Chapter Text
Iwaizumi waded through the creek, dress pants rolled up to his knees. He had to be careful. His mom would kill him if he got his jeans wet. She had told him he wasn’t allowed to search for tadpoles today, but Iwaizumi had let Oikawa drag him to the creek anyway.
“My face hurts,” Oikawa complained, overturning a rock in the stream. Minnows swam out from underneath it, tickling Iwaizumi’s toes. Oikawa dropped the rock in surprise, and water splashed all over his already wet clothes. He had been splashing in the creek for about an hour while Iwaizumi toed carefully around the edges.
“It’s because you’re sunburn, weirdo. You gotta go in the shade,” Iwaizumi replied. Oikawa pouted and scrubbed at his lobster red nose. “You don’t have to get out of the water, just go under the bridge.”
Oikawa’s pout only grew deeper, but he stomped towards the overpass anyway. Iwaizumi backed up so the other boy’s splashing footsteps didn’t get him wet.
The creek was at the entrance to their neighborhood. You had to drive over a bridge to get into their development, a bridge that straddled the stream they liked to visit. There was just enough sand to make moats and sandcastles out of, but the beach quickly transitioned into grass that filled with little yellow flowers in the spring. Underneath the bridge, there were giant rocks that had been excavated by bulldozers when their neighborhood had been built, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa liked to climb on them when there weren’t any teenagers with spray-paint hanging around.
“Iwa-chan, look!” Oikawa shrieked, pointing to a crack between the rocks. Iwaizumi slowly made his way over, refusing to let the ankle deep water get his pants wet. “Faster, Iwa-chan!”
“I’m coming.”
Iwaizumi slipped up the steep rock with wet feet. He grabbed Oikawa’s shoulders to steady himself. The other boy was sitting on top of the tallest rock, his feet dangling over the edge as he peered down at a puddle in the creek bed below. “They’re drowning,” Oikawa said with a frown.
In the space between the rocks, there were at least a hundred tadpoles squirming around in a quickly evaporating puddle. There wasn’t enough water for them to swim. Oikawa was right. They were drowning.
“Well, then, we have to save them,” Iwaizumi said definitively.
Oikawa tilted his head back and flashed Iwaizumi an upside-down smile. “You want to save everything,” he said before jumping up. “But I do, too! Should we give them more water?”
Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, they might use it all up… We should get them into a new place with more water.”
“Like the creek?”
Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “Yeah, that’s good,” he agreed. “I have my bucket up on the hill. We can use that.”
“I’ll go get it!” Oikawa offered, climbing down the rock frighteningly quickly. Iwaizumi frowned as he watched him leave. He wondered what Oikawa’s mom would say if she saw him running around on the shifting boulders with sunburn coating his cheeks and his uniform dripping wet and clingy. He bet Oikawa would get yelled at for not putting on sunscreen when he got home. Next time, Iwaizumi would have to remind him so he didn’t get in trouble.
Oikawa dipped out of sight, but appeared a second later. He waved Iwaizumi’s bright yellow bucket over his head happily. “I got it!” he sang, tripping over stones to try to get back to Iwaizumi and the tadpoles.
“Calm down before you hurt yourself,” Iwaizumi snapped, but Oikawa didn’t listen. If anything, he ran faster.
“Now what?” Oikawa asked, squeezing between the rocks to kneel by the tadpoles. His feet sunk into the muddy sand.
“Now we have to be careful,” Iwaizumi replied. He clambered down to squat next to Oikawa in the mud. He looked at the tadpoles thoughtfully. “Maybe put some water in the bucket first so they can swim around.”
“Okie dokie!” Oikawa chirped. Iwaizumi winced at how loud his voice was directly in his ear. He grabbed onto his toes as he waited for Oikawa to fill up the bucket. “Is this good?”
“Sure,” Iwaizumi said without looking. Because even if it wasn’t good, the whining Iwaizumi would have to put up with wouldn’t be worth fixing it.
A smile spread across Oikawa’s face. (Honestly, he got happy about the smallest of compliments, it was so stupid.) “Great! What’s next, boss?” he asked, squatting beside Iwaizumi. He looked smaller than usual with his knees underneath his chin.
“Next we have to pick them up and put them in the bucket.”
“Gross!”
“Well, it’s not like they can fly in, we’ve gotta hold them,” Iwaizumi replied, his nose twitching in annoyance.
Oikawa pouted. He went from happy to irritated in two seconds flat. Fortunately, Iwaizumi was used to his ever-changing moods. Oikawa had moved into the house down the street in second grade, and now they were big fourth graders. He had been friends with Oikawa for two years; Iwaizumi had gotten pretty good at handling him. “I’m not touching them,” Oikawa replied, his eyebrows furrowed together.
Iwaizumi grunted. “Fine,” he said with an eye roll. He reached into the puddle and cupped up a handful of wriggling tadpoles. A couple dropped from between his fingers and Oikawa squealed. “Be quiet, you’ll scare them!”
“But it’s gross!”
“Maybe they think your gross. You don’t know,” Iwaizumi snapped. He released the tadpoles into the awaiting bucket before reaching into the puddle for more. Oikawa yelped and whined the entire time, talking about how nasty the tadpoles were and how disgusting they looked wiggling around in Iwaizumi’s hands.
Iwaizumi ignored him for the most part, but one thing Oikawa said stood out. “Your so brave, Iwa-chan!”
“They’re just baby frogs. There’s nothing scary about it,” he said as he fished out the last of the tadpoles. Oikawa watched with wide eyes.
“But I bet they’re slimy.”
“Nah, they’re not that bad,” Iwaizumi replied. He stood up and wiped his hands off on the rock next to him. “Okay, let’s set these guys free.”
The bucket had become significantly heavier with all of the tadpoles in it. He and Oikawa both had to hold onto the handle to lift it and carry it the short way to the stream.
“1…2…3…” Iwaizumi counted before they worked together to tip over the bucket. The tadpoles poured out into the creek, dispersing immediately as the water forced them downstream.
“Goodbye, tadpoles!” Oikawa chirped, smiling and waving as the fish swam away. Iwaizumi looked over at his friend. Oikawa looked hideous; his nose and cheeks were beet red with sunburn and his hair was damp at the ends from splashing around too much. His uniform was wet and clinging to him, and there was sand between his fingers and toes.
“You need a shower,” Iwaizumi said, crossing his arms over his still clean and pressed uniform.
Oikawa didn’t seem concerned. Instead, he turned to face Iwaizumi, his hands clasped together joyfully. “Iwa, we should save tadpoles every day, okay?” His eyes turned into little crescents as he smiled.
Iwaizumi scoffed. The rest of Oikawa might be ugly, but even Iwaizumi had to admit that his smile was dazzling.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” he muttered. He tugged at his collar, starting to feel a little hot. “Hey, I think it’s time to go home, though. My mom’s probably making dinner, and you should probably get out of those gross clothes.”
Oikawa visibly deflated. “Oh, okay… You’re right, I guess.” Iwaizumi had known Oikawa for two years, and he knew most of the reasons why he felt what he felt and did what he did. However, Iwaizumi had no idea why Oikawa always looked so sad to go home at night. Half the time they were together, they were arguing. Surely, Oikawa must get sick of him at some point.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll walk to school.”
Oikawa offered him a weak grin. “Okay.”
They hiked up the hill and stuffed their wet feet into dry socks and shoes. Iwaizumi tried not to panic as the swampy smell from the creek seemed to linger around them. If his mom realized he had been at the stream, she’d be furious. He tried to distract himself by listening to Oikawa ramble the entire walk home. He spoke faster and faster as they neared their respective houses. Iwaizumi walked him to his door. “See you tomorrow?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa nodded vehemently.
“See you tomorrow.”
The next day, Oikawa was late for school. When he finally arrived during their first break, Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly happy to see him.
“You smell like mud,” he complained. Oikawa’s uniform was disgusting; there was sand clinging to the seams of his dress shirt, and there were creases in his pants like he had them rolled.
“You look like mud,” Oikawa replied. Iwaizumi snarled.
“Well, you’re as skinny as a toothpick!”
“Well, you’re ugly!”
“Your stupid!”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Okay, fine, you’re not,” Iwaizumi conceded, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not annoying. Because you’re definitely annoying.”
Oikawa stuck his tongue out at Iwaizumi before looking down at his clothes. He scratched away some sand from his collar. Iwaizumi wanted to ask him why he was wearing his dirty uniform from yesterday, but Oikawa looked too disheartened as he stared at his rumpled shirt for Iwaizumi to bring it up again. “Do you wanna hang out again after school today?” Oikawa asked, looking up hopefully.
Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “Can’t. I gotta go to my grandma’s house.”
Oikawa looked crestfallen. “Oh... Well, maybe tomorrow?” he asked, and Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. Oikawa wanted to hang out every day.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Okay,” Oikawa agreed weakly, leaving to find his desk. Iwaizumi stared straight ahead, knowing that Oikawa’s frown would make him cave almost immediately. Stupid Oikawa and his stupid face.
In the end, Iwaizumi gave in without even looking at Oikawa. He was being too quiet and sad for Iwaizumi to leave him hanging for a second longer. “Alright, fine, just not for too long, okay? I’m getting sick of seeing you all the time,” he hissed across the aisle. He sounded bitter, but by the look on the other boy’s face, he could tell Oikawa knew he didn’t mean anything by it.
“You know you love me,” Oikawa cooed, blowing a kiss towards Iwaizumi as he took out his school supplies from his backpack. He had a few pencil stubs and a half used eraser.
Class started back up again before Iwaizumi could reply. Iwaizumi fought back a groan. He’d chose bickering with Oikawa over math class any day.
Oikawa sneezed, and snot sprinkled all over Iwaizumi’s arm. “Ew, Tooru! Cover your mouth when you sneeze!” Iwaizumi complained, grabbing the back of Oikawa’s dress shirt to clean off his arm.
Oikawa squealed and tried to pull away from Iwaizumi’s grasp. “No fair!” he whined, wiggling to get free.
Iwaizumi grimaced when he noticed the trail of snot hanging from Oikawa’s nose. “Just hold on for one second,” he said, taking off his backpack. He knelt down on the sidewalk and unzipped his bag. It took a couple seconds of rummaging through broken colored pencils and spare change to find the tissues his mom had packed him. “Here.”
“Thanks!” Oikawa said as brightly as he could, despite how hoarse his voice was.
They were walking home from school, and Iwaizumi was glad the day was over. Their last subject of the day was Japanese history, which was Iwaizumi’s absolute least favorite class. He always finished his worksheets quickly and spent the rest of the period doodling pictures of samurai in the margins.
He kicked a rock and watched it skip across the sidewalk, landing at the entrance of their neighborhood. Oikawa hopped onto the bridge. “Oh, Iwa-chan, look!” he said, leaning over the railing and pointing at the creek below.
Iwaizumi poked his head over the railing, too. There was a cat curled in the grass by the water. “Tooru... No.”
Oikawa stuck out his bottom lip. “But you don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“You want to go pet it,” Iwaizumi said confidentially. “But petting stray cats is probably how you always get sick.”
Oikawa was always getting sick. Every cold and flu season, he caught every bug in the air. Sometimes, Iwaizumi was convinced that Oikawa was out of school more often than he was in school; he had the worst immune system out of anyone in their grade.
“But cats are lucky,” Oikawa declared. “Maybe cats are what help me get better, and if I don’t pet it, I’ll be sick for longer.”
Iwaizumi blinked at Oikawa a few times. “You know what? I can’t stop you. Go pet it, if you’re going to pet it,” he replied, giving in. His mom always told him that sometimes, you just have to choose your battles. Life with Oikawa was all about only fighting the really important issues.
Oikawa was off before Iwaizumi had even finished talking.
He stomped down the hill after Oikawa, treading carefully so he didn’t fall and roll into the creek. Oikawa had no such concerns, however. He sprinted down the hill, only slowing when he got within three feet of the kitten, so he didn’t scare it off.
Iwaizumi joined Oikawa as the other boy was stretching out his fingers to scratch the cat’s head. The kitten purred and rubbed its forehead against Oikawa’s palm. Iwaizumi peered over Oikawa’s shoulder, watching.
“My mom says that if cats like you, it means you’re really gentle and kind,” he said. “But I would never describe you as gentle.”
“Iwa-chan! How dare you!”
“Oikawa, you’re a walking disaster,” Iwaizumi pointed out. “But it’s okay, I like you anyway.”
Oikawa glared at him before shoving him over. Iwaizumi shrieked as he fell to the ground, his arms flailing out to the sides. The noise startled the kitten, who scrambled backwards before running away. Oikawa frowned. “You see what you do? If anyone here is a walking disaster, it’s you,” he argued.
Iwaizumi opened his mouth to reply, but Oikawa started sneezing before he could. Iwaizumi scrunched his nose with disgust as Oikawa sneezed at least six times in a row. “Let’s just get you home,” he said after Oikawa was done. “You need a nap.”
Oikawa sighed theatrically. “For once, Iwa-chan, you’re not wrong.”
Iwaizumi smacked him on the back of the head before walking him home.
“I’m hungry,” Oikawa whined. He was lying on his stomach on the floor of Iwaizumi’s room. The side of his face was smushed so far against the tatami that Oikawa’s left eye was squished closed.
“You’ve been saying that for the past three years,” Iwaizumi complained. He wasn’t one to exaggerate, usually, but sometimes Oikawa’s dramatic tendencies rubbed off on him.
“But, I am. I’m hungry,” Oikawa whined, his body limp on the ground.
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and threw his pillow at Oikawa’s head. “Dinner is in an hour, calm down,” he demanded. He patted a spot on the bed next to him. “Come play Pokémon with me; stop thinking about food.”
Oikawa groaned. “Can’t. Too... hungry... to move...” he panted out, and Iwaizumi frowned. He was immune to Oikawa’s complaining at this point, but the way the other boy was pressed into the floor... Iwaizumi squinted at Oikawa’s dull eyes and matchstick legs.
“Well... Maybe we can sneak you some Yan Yan from downstairs.”
Oikawa managed to sit up a little bit. “Will you get it, Iwa-chan?” he asked, throwing Iwaizumi his best puppy eyes.
Iwaizumi huffed. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” he replied, frustrated. Oikawa had always been skinny. He should be eating more, not going hungry all the time. Oikawa didn’t even pack good lunches for school –just packaged stuff, when he had anything at all- and he was always begging Iwaizumi to get him food when they were together. “Next time, eat something before you come over,” Iwaizumi complained, climbing down off his bed and stepping over Oikawa on his way out the door.
Iwaizumi flipped over a rock, grunting in approval when he found a centipede wiggling around in the dirt. He tossed it into his bug carrier along with the two stag beetles he had found earlier. Now that it was starting to get really hot outside, creepy crawlies were lurking under every rock and log.
It was officially bug hunting season again.
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called from the other side of the park. He was standing under a tree, the shadows from the leaves making a funny pattern across his face. “Cicadas live in trees, right?”
“Yeah.” Iwaizumi was the expert on all things bugs, so Oikawa was always asking him questions. (He was also an expert on all things Godzilla, but Oikawa didn’t care about that as much). “Why?”
“Let’s go get some!” Oikawa replied, before jumping up and grabbing onto a low-hanging branch. He disappeared into a mass of leaves as he climbed. A foot appeared a second later when Oikawa slipped. “Whoops!”
“Tooru, you idiot, be careful! Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s dangerous to climb trees?” he complained, running over to the base of the tree. He leaned against the trunk, searching through the branches for Oikawa. He spotted his purple sneakers before he saw the other boy’s face.
“Come up, Iwa-chan! There’s lots of cicadas up here! It’s so gross!”
“If it’s gross, then why would I come up?” Iwaizumi asked. He had no idea how Oikawa could be so stupid. If it wasn’t for his constant care and attention, he was pretty sure Oikawa would be dead already.
“Because it’s cool!”
Iwaizumi wavered. He wasn’t very good at climbing trees –he always scraped his arms all up on the bark- but he really liked bugs. “...Is it mating season?” he asked eventually, adjusting his explorer hat on his head anxiously.
Oikawa smirked at him. “Why? Does Iwa-chan like watching bugs--“
“No, you idiot! I’m asking because I’m definitely not coming up if the cicadas are being all... I don’t know, nasty,” he replied, annoyed. Oikawa looked at him with an amount of smugness that no fourth grader should be allowed to possess.
“Shouldn’t you know if it’s mating season? You’re the one who likes bugs, Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi sputtered.
“Why don’t you come up and see for yourself?” Oikawa offered, as obstinate as ever. Iwaizumi crossed his arms and stomped his foot. He wanted to be just as stubborn, but he was too curious.
He held out for all of thirty seconds.
“You just don’t know the answer,” he muttered as he hoisted himself up into the tree, his bug carrier dangling from his belt. “That’s why you’re not saying if it is or isn’t. You wouldn’t know how to tell.”
“I can tell plenty things,” Oikawa disagreed. He looked genuinely offended. It wasn’t often that Oikawa was actually hurt by the things Iwaizumi told him; it was only when Iwaizumi brought up his intelligence that he got pouty.
Oikawa was behind almost everyone else in their grade. All the other kids had their moms check over their homework to make sure their answers were right, but Oikawa always came in with misspelled words and unequal math problems. Their teacher kept telling him to get his mom or dad to help, but Oikawa always made up excuses, saying they were both too busy.
But if Iwaizumi had a son who was as bad at reading as Oikawa was, he’d drop everything to help him learn.
“You can. You’re smarter than people think,” Iwaizumi replied factually, nodding his head. He liked arguing with Oikawa, but not when it made him sad like this. He didn’t mind giving him compliments when he needed them.
Oikawa looked at him blankly for a couple seconds, watching him struggle to meet him so high up in the tree. Eventually, a smile broke out over Oikawa’s face. “I dunno. I can climb trees better than you, though,” he goaded.
If they weren’t precariously balanced on tree branches, Iwaizumi definitely would have punched Oikawa in the chest.
“Oh, look, Iwa-chan! Another cicada!” Oikawa chirped.
Iwaizumi stopped glaring long enough to look where Oikawa was pointing. He swung his leg to straddle one of the tree branches, and he peered through leaves to try to find the cicada. He gasped when he saw it. “It’s huge!” he gasped. He looked to Oikawa excitedly, but frowned at the look on the other boy’s face. “Oi... Don’t do something stupid.”
Oikawa’s eyes flashed. “I’m gonna catch it,” he said.
“Tooru... no. You know that’s dumb.” Iwaizumi loved Oikawa, he did. He was his best friend in the entire world. But sometimes he was an absolute moron. The cicada was out on a dangerously thin part of the branch; there was no way Oikawa would make it without the wood snapping. Oikawa would kill himself trying to get a stupid little bug.
“But I love cicadas! They look like aliens!” Oikawa exclaimed, looking at Iwaizumi with his big, round eyes.
Iwaizumi groaned. He bent over and hugged the branch he was sitting on with both arms. Just thinking about Oikawa falling to his death for a stupid insect made him feel unsteady, like the smallest breeze would send him tumbling to the ground. “You think every bug looks like an alien. You said earlier that stag beetles look like they come from outer space, and we already have two of them. Can’t you just be happy with those?”
“I’m going to get it, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa replied indignantly, already scooting towards the end of the branch. Iwaizumi closed his eyes.
“Tooru...”
“Relax, alright? I almost got it!”
There was a breaking sound, and Iwaizumi squeaked, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. “Toor-“ There was a loud scraping noise and a scream. Iwaizumi looked up just in time to see Oikawa land on his arm.
There was a thump as his body hit the ground. Oikawa shrieked immediately afterwards, his face absolutely panicked.
Iwaizumi bit back a swear and quickly climbed down from the tree. He was more concerned about getting down to Oikawa than whether or not he fell, too. He hopped from the last branch next to Oikawa’s pained face. “Tooru... Tooru...” he repeated.
Oikawa’s face was scrunched up in agony. Tears leaked from the corner of each eye, but that wasn’t the shocking part. The shocking part was Oikawa’s already swelling arm. Iwaizumi was only nine-years-old, but he didn’t need double digits to know that Oikawa’s arm is probably broken.
“Tooru, we need to get you home.”
“What?”
“You can’t lie here forever! We have to get you home so your mom can take you to the hospital,” Iwaizumi said forcefully. He wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
Oikawa’s eyes focused on him. “But she’s busy today.”
Iwaizumi physically flinched away from Oikawa’s words. Something about the way he said it, his voice so tight and his eyes so hurt... Somehow, Iwaizumi knew his expression didn’t have anything to do with his swelling arm or the bruise forming on his cheek.
He thought about Oikawa’s unchecked homework and about how bad he was at reading. He thought about how hungry Oikawa was all the time, and how skinny and short he was. Something was wrong. Iwaizumi didn’t know what, he couldn’t put the pieces together, but something was wrong.
“She’ll take you to the hospital, though,” he choked out weakly. “She’d have to take you to the hospital, your arm is broken.” When Oikawa looked at him doubtfully, Iwaizumi had to close his eyes and breathe through his nose to keep calm. “She’ll take you, Tooru, I promise.”
Oikawa whimpered. “Okay,” he replied. “Okay, just... just one second before I get up, I gotta... I gotta...”
Oikawa collapsed into tears before he could finish, but Iwaizumi had a feeling this was what he had been meaning to do. If Iwaizumi had fallen from a tree and broken his arm, he would need to cry, too. He rubbed Oikawa’s leg as the other boy sobbed. “I didn’t... I didn’t even get the cicada!” he wailed, blubbering into the grass.
Iwaizumi patted his leg awkwardly. “There, there...” he said, not exactly sure of what to do.
“Iwa-chan, I don’t want to go home!”
“But you gotta get your arm checked out, and I’m not leaving you here in the park,” Iwaizumi said sternly. Oikawa sniffled, trying to pull himself together. Iwaizumi impulsively ran a hand through his friend’s hair. “Do you think you can walk?”
Oikawa coughed on snot and tears. He wiped his nose off clumsily on his good arm. “Yeah.”
Iwaizumi stuck his tongue out. “You’re such an ugly crier,” he complained, if only to break the tension, as he helped Oikawa to his feet. The other boy whimpered as his arm dangled uselessly by his side. His forearm looked warped where the bone had broken.
Oikawa cried as he cradled his arm to his chest to keep it still, and Iwaizumi gave him some privacy, looking away until he was ready to go.
They made the short trek to Oikawa’s house in silence. It seemed to be all Oikawa could do to focus on walking without crying. The block and a half it took to get from Oikawa’s front door to the park felt like an eon, but eventually they made it. Iwaizumi was relieved to see a car in the driveway. “Look, see? Your mom is home. She’ll take you.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll get a really cool cast, and I’ll be the first to sign it.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want a hug before you go?”
Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi, startled. But his face quickly crumbled. He nodded his head frantically, tears streaking down his chubby cheeks. “Yes, Iwa-chan. Yes, please!” he sobbed, and Iwaizumi hit him lightly on the back of the head before pulling his friend into a massive hug. Iwaizumi tried to focus equally hard on avoiding Oikawa’s hurt arm and being warm and cozy. Oikawa was always clinging to him; hopefully he had learned how to give a good hug at some point of their friendship.
Iwaizumi eventually had to peel himself away. “Now, go get your mom, idiot. And pick a purple cast. It’ll match your sneakers.”
“Okay,” Oikawa croaked before walking up to his steps. Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa walked through his front door. They’d be laughing about this tomorrow, he was sure, and everyone would be signing Oikawa’s cast.
So why did he feel so scared?
Oikawa showed up at his door the next morning to walk to school, and he was a sight to take in.
His shirt was rumpled like he slept in it, and the button on his pants wasn’t done. His hair was ruffled, too. Iwaizumi was pretty sure he could spot a blade of grass still hiding in his fringe.
But Iwaizumi was used to seeing Oikawa in dirty clothes with messy hair. It was gross sometimes, yes, but he was a good friend, and Iwaizumi could put up with a little dirt and his goofy bedhead. That was all normal.
What wasn’t normal were the tear tracks running down Oikawa’s cheeks. There were streaks on either side of his face, and his eyes were puffy like he had been crying. Iwaizumi frowned and quickly looked at the other boy’s arm, only to discover that it was more bruised and more swollen than it had been the day before.
Iwaizumi immediately pulled Oikawa into the house. “You idiot, where’s your cast?” he asked, alarmed.
Oikawa shrugged meekly.
“Did you even go to the hospital? This looks gross! We need to get you some ice.” Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa towards his kitchen, forgetting all about school. He didn’t care if he was late. Oikawa was hurt, and he had been since yesterday. Someone had to do something about it.
“My mom said that it didn’t need to get looked at,” Oikawa murmured as Iwaizumi rummaged through his freezer for an ice pack.
He found one and looked down at Oikawa’s black and blue arm. His face scrunched up as he stared at it. His forearm was at least twice as wide around as it had been yesterday, it was so puffy. The bruise was a deep, disgusting purple –a color Iwaizumi had never seen skin turn before- and it reached from his elbow to his wrist. Iwaizumi felt tears collect in his eyes as he looked at it. “M-mom!” he called out, voice wavering.
“Hajime? What are you still doing here?” his mother asked, running down the stairs. She looked panicked when she rush into the room, which might have had something to do with how shaky Iwaizumi’s voice had been. He couldn’t even speak, he just gestured to Oikawa with the ice pack he still had in his hands. His mom turned to the younger boy, noting his black eye first and his molted arm second. “Oh, sweetie...” she cooed in one breath.
Iwaizumi pressed his lips together, trying not to cry. “I think he broke it,” he said, speaking up when Oikawa wouldn’t. Normally, Oikawa was desperate for attention, but now he was shrinking in on himself. “We were climbing a tree yesterday, and he fell.”
His mom didn’t take her eyes off Oikawa. “Does it hurt, honey?” she asked, and Oikawa shrugged. “I think it would be best if we took you to see a doctor. Would that be okay?” Oikawa just shrugged again. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you in the car.”
Oikawa walked quietly to the car. He didn’t say a word when Iwaizumi’s mom buckled him into his booster seat, which was crazy because Oikawa always complained about having to use a booster when Iwaizumi didn’t have to.
Iwaizumi’s mom looked back at him through the rearview mirror before she pulled out of the driveway. “Hajime, would you like to go to school or come with us to the hospital.”
“I wanna go with Tooru,” Iwaizumi said with as much determination as he could muster.
His mom smiled proudly; she was always telling Iwaizumi to be a good friend. However, he could tell she was stressed. Iwaizumi was, too. How could Oikawa’s mom say he didn’t need to go to the hospital? Just looking at his arm was enough to make Iwaizumi’s mom jump into action, and Oikawa wasn’t even her son.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa squeaked, looking at him with big round eyes. “You’re sure you’ll come?”
Iwaizumi swallowed thickly. He reached out to take Oikawa’s good hand. “Of course, I’ll come. I’ll be there whenever you need me, okay?”
Oikawa looked at him, his eyes flickering, before a tiny smile crept up his face. “Okay. I’ll be there whenever you need me, too. Promise,” he said, shifting their hands so their pinkies were linked. Iwaizumi snorted when Oikawa winked at him, but his pinky wrapped more tightly around Oikawa’s anyway.
“Are you gonna sign my cast or what?” Oikawa asked, stealing a piece of salmon from Iwaizumi’s bento box. Iwaizumi let him do it. He’d heard the doctors talk to his mom about how even though Oikawa’s arm was broken and how that was a big deal, their real concern was how emaciated he was.
It was scary. Oikawa weighed so little that the doctors thought it was a problem. They lectured Oikawa about eating while they wrapped plaster around his arm.
Every time Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa’s cast, he thought about it. He thought about how thin Oikawa was, and how short he was, and how gross his arm had looked, and how no one in his house was doing anything to help him. No one was helping him with his homework, or with his lunches, or with his injuries...
Oikawa’s arm had been so hurt. Iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to touch Oikawa’s cast, he was so scared of making things worse.
Oikawa had no such concerns, though, and he was constantly flinging his hurt arm around to shove open doors or bat away mosquitos. Currently, he was shoving his purple cast in Iwaizumi’s face.
“I don’t even have a marker,” he said grumpily. He didn’t want to let Oikawa know how nervous he felt. He’d been a wreck at the hospital, hovering over his friend in the waiting room and pressing his face to the glass as they did x-rays on his arm. Oikawa already knew how worked up he was about all of this. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing Iwaizumi pull his hair out any longer over something so stupid. Tons of kids broke their arms falling out of trees. Oikawa wasn’t special.
At least, he shouldn’t be.
“I have one!” Oikawa chirped happily, pulling out a silver sharpie from his bag. He stole Iwaizumi’s chopsticks and replaced them with the marker. “Come on, sign my cast! Make sure you write ‘Iwa-chan,’ not ‘Hajime.’”
“That’s stupid.”
“You’re stupid for not signing my dumb cast! You said you’d be the first person to do it, and I’ve been waiting ages,” Oikawa whined, kicking his feet a little bit. “Please? Please, please, please, please?”
Iwaizumi glanced at the clock. They still had another thirty minutes of lunch and then recess after. Iwaizumi couldn’t take a full hour of Oikawa whining at him; he really couldn’t. “Alright, fine,” he snapped, pulling off the marker cap with a bit more force than necessary. “Give me your stupid cast, already.”
Oikawa flourished his arm out dramatically, beaming when Iwaizumi started to write. He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Tooru made me do this.
-Iwaizumi Hajime
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelped indignantly when he read the message. “You could at least pretend to like me sometimes!”
Iwaizumi snorted. “Fine,” he replied, reaching out for Oikawa’s cast again. Now that he had written on it, it seemed less scary to touch. He ignored Oikawa’s watchful gaze as he wrote a new message on the opposite side of the plaster.
You’re out of this world.
Love, Iwa-chan
He finished the note with a little picture of a UFO and a couple silver stars. Oikawa immediately started squealing happily, ignoring the strange looks the rest of their class was throwing their way.
“Oh, Iwaizumi signed your cast!” their friend, Kenji, exclaimed. Apparently, he could see the metallic signature from the other side of the room. “Does that mean everyone else can finally sign it, too?”
“I wanna sign it!”
“I wanna sign it, too!”
“Me first, Oikawa!”
The entire class huddled around Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s desks. Oikawa straightened up in his chair, beaming under the constant attention. He held up his cast for everyone to sign, grinning when girls drew him little cats and dogs and whining when Kenji wrote “butts” by his elbow.
One of his classmates, Akiko, elbowed Iwaizumi in the side, pulling his eyes off of Oikawa. “Isn’t it cool that you got to sign Oikawa’s cast first? He hasn’t let anyone touch it since he got it!” she asked, hands fisted in excitement.
Iwaizumi shrugged. “I guess,” he replied. Akiko looked horrified.
“It’s cool!” she admonished. “You’re so lucky. Oikawa is the first person in our year to have a cast to sign! And now all of our names get to be on it!”
“The idiot fell from a tree. It’s nothing to get excited about,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes. He glanced at Oikawa’s broken arm again, feeling stressed. Oikawa had made everyone wait just for him. He didn’t know how he managed to become so important to Oikawa, but it was almost overwhelming.
Akiko laughed. “Falling from a tree certainly sounds exciting. It would be so scary!”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, ignoring the anxiety that had swelled up in his chest. “It’ll heal soon. Everyone should just calm down.” Honestly, Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if he was talking to Akiko or himself, but the sooner Oikawa had his cast off, the better.
Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa flipped through his DVDs. He didn’t really care what they watched, but so help him, if Oikawa made him watch My Neighbor Totoro again, he was going to go insane.
As if hearing his thoughts, Oikawa held up My Neighbor Totoro victoriously above his head a moment later.
Iwaizumi scrambled of the couch to physically block the DVD player with his body. “No. No. Every time you’re over here, we watch the same movie. I’m not watching it again,” he said, arms spread wide to prevent Oikawa from sneaking through.
“But it’s so happy,” Oikawa gushed, hugging the movie to his chest. “It’s like... It’s like a feel good movie,” he said excitedly. He flopped over onto the rug with glee. Iwaizumi blinked slowly at him.
Sometimes he forgot how dorky Oikawa could be.
“You’re such a nerd,” Iwaizumi said. He rubbed his face with both hands, messing up his hair a bit in the process. “Ugh, fine. We can watch it, but only because you’re such a loser,” he offered.
“Yay!” Oikawa leapt up from the ground, and shoved the movie into the DVD player before Iwaizumi could change his mind.
Iwaizumi begrudgingly climbed onto the couch. Oikawa tucked himself into his side moments later, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as the other boy clutched onto his arm. Oikawa seemed completely engrossed in the movie. He watched as the girls hid under all of their luggage on the way to their new house, but as they walked around their new home, Oikawa turned to look at him.
“Hey, you know? You’re the best best friend I’ve ever had.”
Iwaizumi shoved Oikawa as hard as he could. “You’re nine-years-old. I’m the only best friend you’ve ever had.”
Oikawa pouted. “Just be happy about how much I love you,” he replied, reattaching himself to Iwaizumi’s arm. “You love me, too, right? You would let me have your umbrella if I was like Totoro, standing in the rain?”
“We haven’t even gotten to that part of the movie,” Iwaizumi grumbled.
“Iwa-chan!”
“Well, of course I would!” Iwaizumi replied. “What kind of question even is that? I see you every day. We’re friends. Friends do stuff for each other.”
Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed together. “But we’re best friends, right? We’re best friends?”
“Yeah, yeah, best friends. Now watch the mov-“
“I knew it!” Oikawa interrupted, leaping on Iwaizumi and pulling him into a massive hug. Iwaizumi choked as the other boy tackled him onto the couch cushions. He struggled to sit back up for a moment, but Oikawa was like an octopus. In the end, he had to resign himself to watching the movie with Oikawa on his chest. The smaller boy’s hair tickled Iwaizumi’s nose whenever Oikawa threw his head back to laugh, and his knees and elbows poked Iwaizumi uncomfortably.
He shifted under Oikawa, trying to get more comfortable. Oikawa sat up a little bit, letting him move, before flopping right back down on top. Iwaizumi grunted when Oikawa’s boney shoulder dug into his chest.
“Your too skinny to cuddle, Tooru. It’s annoying.”
Oikawa frowned. “It’s not my fault,” he pouted.
Iwaizumi thought about that. No, he supposed it wasn’t Oikawa’s fault. If Oikawa’s mom had taken him to the hospital for his arm, then she would know that he was too skinny and give him more to eat. But instead, Oikawa was hungry all of the time.
Iwaizumi sat up, making Oikawa sit up too, and crossed his arms. “It is your fault. You’re on top, so you’re the one who is in charge of getting up and getting snacks.”
Oikawa tilted his head for a second, looking at him curiously, before an excited smile took over his expression. “Okay, Iwa-chan! Pause the movie, I’ll get pretzels!” he said excitedly, leaping off Iwaizumi and running towards the kitchen.
What Oikawa lacked in size, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.
Iwaizumi sat up normally on the couch, kicking his feet while he waited for Oikawa. When he finally came back, he had his arms full of fruits and vegetables. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I thought you were getting pretzels,” he said, catching an apple as it fell from Oikawa’s arms.
Oikawa didn’t seem to hear him. “Your mom is making onigiri,” he said absently, absorbed in the food. He popped edamame into his mouth a few pods at a time. Oikawa put the shells back in the container, and Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. Oikawa settled onto the couch. “Play the movie.”
Iwaizumi followed Oikawa’s orders and unpaused their show. In a few minutes, his mom came in with the onigiri Oikawa had promised. Iwaizumi didn’t miss the way Oikawa preened when she ruffled his hair.
Silently, Iwaizumi made the decision to make sure Oikawa came over more often. It was good for him to be surrounded by healthy snacks and a mom who actually paid attention to him. Iwaizumi wanted to help take responsibility for Oikawa. “Hey, do you wanna come over tomorrow, Tooru? We can watch a different movie for a change,” he offered around a bite of rice.
Oikawa straightened up excitedly. “Yeah! I’d love to do that! Do you think your mom will make onigiri again, if we ask?”
“I most certainly will!” Iwaizumi’s mother shouted from the kitchen, and Oikawa practically collapsed into giggles. Iwaizumi hit his back when he started choking on his soy beans.
“Calm down. You’re too worked up.”
“I’m just excited,” Oikawa croaked. He rubbed his throat pitifully.
Iwaizumi snorted and looked to the side. “You’re always excited,” he replied. He tried to sound angry, but he couldn’t hide the fond smile on his face.
School had always been boring for Iwaizumi. His mother told him it was because he was too smart, but he didn’t think that was necessarily true. Things like math and reading came easily to him, yes, but that didn’t make him any smarter than any of the other kids. Everyone was good at something, and if their talents didn’t help them get good grades, that didn’t mean they were dumb. It just meant they weren’t good at school. That was different.
But maybe he only thought that way because of Oikawa.
Iwaizumi didn’t think Oikawa was stupid, but that’s not what the other kids in class thought. He always heard the kids around him whispering to each other when Oikawa answered a question wrong or asked the teacher to explain something that should be easy.
Iwaizumi couldn’t figure it out. Oikawa was sharp. He was ridiculously quick-witted for a nine-year-old; Iwaizumi struggled to come up with clever comebacks to match Oikawa’s when they bantered back and forth. Also, Oikawa always thought up the games they played. His imagination was unlimited, and he always remembered the details to whatever game they decided to play, so they could pick the story right back up.
Plus, Oikawa could remember stuff. He could recite endless facts about aliens, all the lines from his favorite movies, and the ingredients to the all meals Iwaizumi’s mom cooked for him (Oikawa always asked his mom how she made dinner). Clearly, he wasn’t stupid.
And Iwaizumi hated it when he did things to make their classmates think otherwise.
Currently, Oikawa was up at the front board, staring at the times tables his teacher had written out for him to solve.
He was one of five kids at the board. They were all supposed to race to see who could finish ten problems first while the rest of the class cheered them on. However, while the rest of the kids sped along to write out their answers, Oikawa stood frozen.
He didn’t have a single answer written down.
The kids around Iwaizumi were all screaming for different kids –Matsuko, Risa, Hiromi...- but no one was cheering for Oikawa. Although, to be fair, why would you cheer on someone who had yet to answer one question?
“Come on, Tooru! Do the ones you know first!” Iwaizumi goaded. The other kids had at least three questions done, but Oikawa was still stuck on his first. Iwaizumi punched his desk angrily when the other boy didn’t move. “Look, Tooru! Look! Seven times one, you know that one, that one’s easy!”
Oikawa stuttered to life. He stepped back from the board, looking for the question Iwaizumi pointed out. Eventually, he found it. He hesitantly wrote a seven after the equal sign.
“Good job, Tooru!” Iwaizumi called, not caring that the rest of the class was quieting down as the other kids finished. “Good job, good job! Nine more!”
Oikawa glanced back at Iwaizumi. His eyes looked bigger than usual, and Iwaizumi suddenly felt furious. He didn’t want everyone to think Oikawa was stupid; he wasn’t stupid. How could you look Oikawa in the eyes and think he was anything less than genius? He was Iwaizumi’s best friend; he didn’t deserve this.
Iwaizumi turned away from Oikawa. He couldn’t look at him right now, not when he was feeling so much secondhand embarrassment for the other boy.
It took a long while, but eventually Oikawa managed to at least put answers down for the rest of the questions, although most of them were wrong. Their teacher was kind as she corrected his mistakes, but there were a lot of them. The class snickered as she circled problem after problem.
Iwaizumi grew more and more furious with each chuckle he heard. It was all he could do to stop from shouting. Instead, he gripped his pencil so tight his knuckles turned white.
As their teacher called up the next group of students to race, a crumpled up note landed on Iwaizumi’s desk.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.
-Tooru
Iwaizumi stared at the note incredulously. He felt like smacking his head against the table. He wasn’t angry at Oikawa; he was angry at everyone else. He hated how badly they were probably making Oikawa feel about himself, and now –here he was- making everything worse.
He rubbed his temples. Unfortunately, before he could respond to Oikawa, math class was dismissed. Iwaizumi used their ten-minute break between classes to rush over to Oikawa’s desk.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. He looked scared.
Iwaizumi balled his hands into fists by his sides. It took everything he had not to punch Oikawa right then and there. “I’m not mad at you, you idiot. You did the best you could. That’s a good thing.”
“Then why-“
“Because no one was cheering for you! And you felt bad, I could tell, you were all frozen! I hated it,” Iwaizumi seethed. “But that’s not your fault, it’s everyone else’s fault. Nothing is your fault, Tooru. Don’t be sorry.”
Oikawa looked a little overwhelmed. His cheeks were flushed, and he ducked down to hide his face behind his cast. “It is my fault, I’m stupid,” he said, voice cracking.
At least seventeen different alarms went off in Iwaizumi’s head at once. He reached out to grab Oikawa’s hand, tears piling up in his eyes too, though he didn’t understand why. “Oikawa, the only stupid thing about you is how you think your stupid. That’s dumb.”
“You’re not even making sense.”
Well, Iwaizumi couldn’t disagree with that one. “Just don’t cry, okay? You’re not allowed to cry about things that aren’t true,” he begged, getting on his knees so he could see his friend’s face better. Oikawa blinked at him.
“You’re sure you think I’m smart? Because I could only answer, like, three-“
“You’re not smart at math,” Iwaizumi interjected before Oikawa could bring up what happened at the board. Iwaizumi didn’t want to think about it. “But that’s okay. You’re smart at tons of other things, so don’t worry about it.”
Their history teacher called everyone to their seats, and Iwaizumi frowned. It was probably the worst day for class to start early.
“Don’t worry,” he repeated, walking back to his desk obediently. He gave Oikawa one last look. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m bored,” Kenji complained.
Oikawa was out sick, and there was nothing fun to do at recess without him there to make up stories and pretend to be the bad guy when no one else would. (Seriously, out of all the boys in their friend group, Oikawa was the only one who would be a thief when they played cops and robbers.)
“We could play tag?” Iwaizumi offered, but he was met with three groans. “Or not.”
Iwaizumi flopped back in the grass. He loved hanging out with Kenji, Eito, and Hiromi, but it really was boring without Oikawa.
“We have to think of something,” Hiromi complained. “I don’t want to spend all of recess staring at the clouds. What fun stuff is there to do?”
“I mean, I already said tag, and you all said no. And tag is the most fun thing to do,” Iwaizumi said grumpily, crossing his arms.
“You always say tag,” Eito replied. “But you run the fastest; it’s no fun playing with you when you’re never it.”
Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. “I have a lot of fun,” he muttered snottily. His three friends threw grass at him.
Kenji moaned and soon joined Iwaizumi lying in the grass. He sprawled out clumsily, not caring who he kicked in the process. “I miss Oikawa! Why does he have to get sick all the time? He’s never here,” he whined, rolling back and forth on the grass like a two-year-old having a tantrum.
“He’s better off at home where he’s not sneezing on my face,” Eito replied moodily. His face softened pretty quickly, though. “But yeah, it’s more fun with him here.”
Iwaizumi huffed out another sigh and stared at the clouds. At least he wasn’t the only one who felt lost without Oikawa.
Oikawa’s toes were in the creek despite how unusually chilly it was for September. He had been forcing Iwaizumi to play outside every day in preparation for winter, when they would have to spend all their time indoors. Iwaizumi was happy to hang out by the stream, even though his mom had made him wear gloves and a hat to brace the cold.
Oikawa kicked his feet, making the water splash. “Hey, can you skip rocks?” he asked out of the blue, holding up a flat stone from the creek bed.
Iwaizumi shrugged. “I dunno, let’s see.” He tossed the rock towards the water, and it landed with a plop. It immediately sunk. “I guess not.”
“That’s okay, neither can I,” Oikawa replied, rubbing his runny nose off on the back of his hand. Iwaizumi stuck his tongue out and wordlessly passed him a tissue. Oikawa blew his nose hard, scaring away several fish. “I heard though, that you can skip bullets on water if you shoot your gun right.”
“That’s sounds like a lie.”
“I bet it’s not. I bet that could happen, and you could like... skip a bullet to the other side of –like- a huge lake or something,” Oikawa mused. He sat up straight and turned to Iwaizumi excitedly. “Hey! We should go to a lake when it gets warm out again! We could go swimming!” he said, miming out a couple different strokes.
Iwaizumi stood up, inspired. “Hey! I bet I can hold my breath longer than you!” he said excitedly. He loved a good competition, and he especially loved beating Oikawa.
“Bet you can’t.”
“Can, too!”
“Fine, on the count of three. One... two... three!”
“...”
“...”
“...”
Oikawa gasped for air. “All right, all right, fine. You win,” Oikawa agreed. He looked crestfallen for a minute before he looked up at Iwaizumi mischievously. “Or maybe best two out of three?”
“Okay,” Iwaizumi panted, getting his breath back. Oikawa counted down from three again, and they both held their breath. Iwaizumi’s lungs had started to burn when he realized he could hear Oikawa breathing through his stuffy nose. He pinched the other boy’s nostrils closed, and Oikawa immediately sputtered for air. “I win again,” he teased. “Also, you’re a cheater.”
“Only sometimes!” Oikawa said indignantly, batting away Iwaizumi’s hand. “When we go swimming, I won’t cheat during any of our races.”
Iwaizumi snorted. “I don’t trust you.”
“No, I’ll prove it! Maybe it’ll be really warm tomorrow and your mom will take us to the pool,” he said excitedly.
Iwaizumi arched an eyebrow and looked down at Oikawa’s purple cast. “Well, you can’t exactly swim with that thing, now can you?” he said, gesturing to Oikawa’s healing arm. He frowned. It had been months since Oikawa had fallen from the tree. The whole summer had passed. “When are you supposed to get it off, anyway?”
Oikawa shrugged. “I dunno... I think it’s been a long enough time. I only needed it for four to six weeks, and it’s getting really itchy and stuff.” Talking about it seemed to remind just Oikawa how itchy it was. He picked a twig up from the ground and shoved it into his cast, scratching.
Iwaizumi’s frown only deepened. “If it’s been long enough, why don’t you get it taken off?”
Oikawa didn’t look at him, staring at his cast instead. “My mom doesn’t have time to take me back to the hospital,” he replied. He seemed upset for a second before flashing Iwaizumi a massive smile. “But it’s okay! I kind of like it! There’s lots of nice messages on here, even one from you, Iwa-chan!”
“Tooru, that’s stupid. You can’t keep a cast on forever. Some day, you’re going to want to move your wrist again.”
Oikawa waved his hand flippantly at Iwaizumi, but when he spoke, his voice was strained. “You worry too much. Everything is fine.”
Iwaizumi wasn’t convinced.
“Mizushima-sensei?” Iwaizumi squeaked, making his teacher look up from her desk. He wasn’t one to speak to his teachers when he didn’t have to. He knew it was important to be very formal and polite, and he worried about messing up. Iwaizumi’s mom always told him he was a grumpy kid; it was probably best that he kept quiet around his elders.
But this was important.
“Do you-? I mean... I was just wondering... I have this problem- Or someone else has this problem, and... Well, do you think we could talk about it?” he asked. His teacher turned her desk chair towards him.
“Of course, Iwaizumi-kun. What’s bothering you?” She pulled over another chair for Iwaizumi to sit in, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know why he had been so nervous. Mizushima was a wonderful teacher, and she was always engaging her students more personally than any of the other teachers Iwaizumi knew. He took a deep breath to calm down.
“Okay, well, it’s about Tooru. Or, Oikawa-san, I guess,” he said. “He still has his cast on, but he broke his arm months ago, and he’s been complaining about it feeling itchy and getting too tight, and all this stuff. But he says his mom is too busy to help him.”
Mizushima-sensei frowned. “Well, I’m sure she has-“
“But there’s more!” Iwaizumi replied before he could stop himself from interrupting. “When he broke his arm in the first place, she didn’t take him to the hospital at all. My mom had to take him because Oikawa-san’s mom sent him to school that day, even though his arm was all swollen and bruised!
“And she never gives him nice clothes to wear, he’s always dirty and wrinkly, and he’s always sick and hungry. He’s hungry all of the time, seriously. Even when you give him a lot of food, he finishes it all. He finishes everything -even if he feels sick- cause he’s so hungry.
“And did you know that he comes over to my house every day, and he never has to call and tell his mom where he is? Sometimes he’s at my house until really late at night! Sometimes he sleeps over! Plus, you know he doesn’t have anyone helping him with homework.
“I don’t know why no one helps him with anything! There’s no one helping him, he’s all alone, he can’t drive himself to the hospital, Mizushima-sensei, and I told my mom, and she told me to talk to you. Someone has to take Tooru to the hospital, Sensei; someone has to help him,” he prattled off, his chest heaving by the end of it.
Mizushima-sensei looked taken aback, but mostly, she looked concern. Her hair fell into her eyes, but she was too startled to push it out of her face. “Okay. Okay, first, Iwaizumi-kun, how about you take a deep breath?” she instructed.
Iwaizumi breathed slowly.
“Good job. I’m sorry you’re so worried about your friend. It seems like he is having some trouble at home, doesn’t it?” his teacher asked. Iwaizumi nodded, and Mizushima mirrored him. “I have been noticing some concerning things as well, and I’m already talking with certified social workers to help Oikawa-kun as soon as possible.”
Iwaizumi took a shuddering breath and tears welled up in his eyes. He shoulders shook. “I just... I just...” He didn’t want to start blubbering in front of his teacher, but he had been so worried for so long, it was all pouring out without his permission. Fat tears rolled down each cheek. He was only in fourth grade, this was too much for him to keep track of. “I don’t like how dirty and hungry Tooru is. I don’t like how no one is paying attention to him.”
“I don’t like it either,” Mizushima replied empathetically. “But if what you say about his medical situation is true, then it will be very easy to get him somewhere safe, okay? There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll help Tooru.”
Iwaizumi nodded, but he didn’t stop crying. He knew Oikawa would have all kinds of questions for him about why he didn’t wait to walk to school with him and why he had been crying, but he had been too scared for too long to calm down.
Mizushima-sensei stayed with him until it was time for class. They braved assembly together, and Iwaizumi had to hold his breath the whole time to keep from crying.
Even though Mizushima promised him everything would be all right, he couldn’t help but feel scared for Oikawa. Every time he thought about Oikawa and his skinny legs and his long healed broken arm, he felt nauseous. Oikawa was way too important for the way his mother treated him.
Iwaizumi hadn’t expected to find so many cars parked outside of Oikawa’s house.
It was late Saturday afternoon. Usually, Oikawa would have come over to ask him to come out to play, and they would have spent a couple hours at the creek or the playground. However, Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him all day. He had figured he would go knock on his door and see if he was sick, but it looked like a bunch of other people had beat him to it.
“Tooru?” Iwaizumi asked, spotting the other boy sitting in the back of one of the cars. He was strapped into a car seat. “What’s going on?” It was obvious that Oikawa had been crying: there were tear tracks running down both cheeks and his body was curled inwards on itself, despite the small booster seat.
Oikawa looked up at him, startled. However, instead of looking happy to see Iwaizumi, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Go away,” he said, slamming the car door closed.
Iwaizumi jumped back.
Panic swept over him. Oikawa was hardly ever mad at him. They fought all the time, and Oikawa got frustrated with how cautious Iwaizumi could be, but he was never ever mad.
Iwaizumi looked up to Oikawa’s house, and saw a tiny suitcase and a couple boxes of things sitting on the front step. There was a woman and two men –all wearing suits- talking to a lady who was screaming at them, a letter crushed in one hand. Iwaizumi didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed her before; she was so loud.
She looked familiar. It took Iwaizumi a second, but he realized it was Oikawa’s mom. In two years, he couldn’t remember ever once actually seeing her.
However scared Iwaizumi had been feeling before, he was twice as scared now. He scrambled to the other side of the car and let himself into the back seat. He sat next to Oikawa. “Tooru? Tooru, are you going somewhere? What’s happening?”
“Like you don’t know,” Oikawa scoffed, looking out the window and avoiding Iwaizumi’s eyes.
“No, I don’t know,” Iwaizumi replied. “What’s happening? Why are there suitcases? Why is your mom yelling?”
“Because I’m moving.”
Iwaizumi’s heart dropped like lead. He blinked, his chest tightening so painfully that he thought it might cave inwards. “What?” he asked, voice smaller than usual.
“You idiot. Sensei said someone in class told her about how I broke my arm, and how your mom had to take me to get it fixed, and how I still haven’t gotten my cast off, and now I have to live with my grandma,” Oikawa spat. Iwaizumi couldn’t see his expression as he looked out the window, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to. “And I know it was you. This is your fault. Now, I have to leave.”
“Tooru, I-“
Oikawa’s head whipped around, and he fixed Iwaizumi with the angriest glare he had ever received. “I hate you, Iwa-chan. I hate you so much. This is... This is...” Oikawa stuttered as he started to cry. “All your fault.”
Iwaizumi clawed at his chest, suddenly feeling too hot for his clothes. “Tooru-“
“Get out of the car.”
“I didn’t mean to make you move, I just wanted to hel-“
“Get out of the car!” Oikawa screeched, ripping his alien keychain off of the backpack nestled at his feet and throwing it at Iwaizumi. It missed him and landed in the grass outside. “Get out, get out, get out! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, get out!”
Oikawa’s yelling alerted the adults to Iwaizumi’s presence, and he realized that Mizushima was the lady he saw.
Iwaizumi scrambled out of the backseat before he could get in trouble. Oikawa’s mom disappeared into the house, and the two men carried Oikawa’s things to the car, putting them in the trunk before climbing in the front seat. Mizushima-sensei held Iwaizumi back as he rushed to get in the car again. “Don’t worry, Iwaizumi,” she said, rubbing his back to calm him down. “I’m sure you and Oikawa will keep in touch. He isn’t going very far, just a few towns over.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Iwaizumi said, his heart beating way too fast. “You don’t understand, I have to talk to him. He can’t leave yet, he can’t leave.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.”
Iwaizumi’s face crumbled as he watched the car pull away from the curb. Oikawa glared out the back windshield, his gaze locked on Iwaizumi as the car drove away. Iwaizumi felt sick. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, his best friend was leaving.
Forever.
Mizushima-sensei didn’t let him go until the car was out of sight. Iwaizumi fell to his knees. The keychain Oikawa threw at him caught his eye, and he picked it up, sniffling. It dawned on him that this was the last time he would ever see Oikawa.
(Or so he thought.)