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Tooru's hands grasp at his pillow, eyes impossibly wide, impossibly scared.
He's only seven but the words he hears makes his heart ache and life flash. He can hear his mother screaming, voice hoarse as she curses at his father. He yells back, of course, because that's all he knows what to do these days. He hears his sister crying through the thin walls, her teenage years ruined by her parents words.
He hears his parents bedroom door slam, swears it shakes the house, and hears his door open. He squeezes his eyes shut, fingers forming fists over the pillow cover. He fights the urge to flinch as his mother's hand rests on his shoulder and pulls him to face her gently. Her face is red with anger, though it's dulling as she smiles at him.
"C'mon, Tooru," she slurs, pulling at his arm and forcing him to stand. He stumbles over his feet and she leads him into the hallway. "Let's go for a drive." The front doors opening and he's being shoved out, shoved towards the car parked in front of their house. His mom fumbles with the keys, drops them twice, and is finally able to press the unlock button. She opens the passenger side door, motioning for him to get in. He gives her an incredulous look.
"Mama," he says, eyes going wide again because he's impossibly scared at the hazy look in her eyes.
"It's okay," she assures him, "Daddy doesn't need to know. It can be our little secret." She grabs his arm and sets him into the passenger seat.
His heart jumps when their neighbors porch light turns on.
"Mrs. Oikawa?" His neighbor asks, stepping out of her front door. Her lips pull down and her husband appears behind her, hand resting on her shoulder. "Come on inside. It's too late for a drive right now, Tooru has school tomorrow."
His mom is staring at him, back towards them. Her expression is blank and Tooru looks up at her, hoping she can uncloud her eyes and read his. She nods slowly, then jerks her head a few times. She pulls Tooru out of the passenger seat and he's barely able to close the door as she walks towards the neighbors house, hand clenching around Tooru's. The neighbors are touching his mom's arms, shoulders, pulling her into the house.
He follows, because that's all he knows what to do.
"You can stay with Hajime, if you want, Tooru," Mrs. Iwaizumi says. He doesn't look her in the eyes because she has the same look she always does when she stops his mom, just nods and walks towards the staircase. He looks back at them, watching as they lead her to the kitchen to, hopefully, help her sober up.
He pauses in front of the first door he sees, staring at the white painted wood with tired eyes. He brings his hand up to knock, stopping when the door is swung open.
"Do you want the futon or do you want to sleep with me?" Hajime asks, already settling back into bed. Tooru closes the door behind him, lifts up the lip of the blanket because Hajime knows Tooru can't stand the futon. His back settles against Hajime's and he breathes, letting the first tears drop onto his best friends pillow. He feels a familiar tanned hand move towards his, fingers slipping between his and squeezing.
Hajime holds his hand and he cries harder.
xxx
Tooru frowns, eyes sharp as he looks at the clock. Practice is almost over and he's been berated by his coach and team mates about going home early for once.
"Go eat dinner with your family," they'd say, or "I'm sure your parents misses you, go home!" He always smiles and laughs, promising to leave after a bit. A bit turns into hours, getting home by the time his mother's in bed, too drunk on something to realize the doors being opened and that it was never locked. He spends the rest of his nights watching other teams play or looking up universities and cheap apartments for when he's finally able to get out.
His father and sister moved out years ago, his sister getting married and his father leaving during the night, taking the car and his stuff. He sends a check every month for them to live off of, since he wasn't a father but knew his wife wasn't a mother, either. She couldn't keep a job down, she could barely keep her booze down.
His limbs feel cold as he shuffles towards the locker room, doesn't even register himself getting changed until he's closing his locker door. He pauses, stares through the holes in the metal. He shoulders his gym bag and feels Hajime's gaze on his back as he leaves without a word.
xxx
His mother isn't home.
He changes into running clothes, ignoring the sharp bite of the cold air. It's late October but he doesn't care, closing the door behind him. He sees Hajime's light on, sees him through the blinds in his kitchen with his parents. They're talking about something, and it takes all Tooru has to tear his gaze from their smiling faces, because he knows Hajime can feel it when he stares.
He breaks off into a jog, telling himself he'll take it slow this time. As he passes houses though, sees families, he breaks into a sprint, breath coming out in short wheezes and his heart is beating so fast he's afraid it'll stop from overuse.
It isn't until he trips over his own feet that he stops, stumbling forward and barely catching himself. His hands and knees scrape across the pavement and he grinds his teeth, pushing himself upwards again. He frowns at the small cuts in his skin, ignoring the sting in favor of breaking into a run again. He circles around the area he has mapped as a mile twice, going for a third when he sees Hajime sitting on the back of his dad's car. He slows to a walk, flashing a grin at his best friend as he takes the water bottle held out for him. He sees his mom's light on and his smile falters and he looks away from Hajime.
"Thanks, Iwa-chan," he says, voice holding the usual chipper. He can feel the gaze on his back and he lets out a silent sigh, pushing the water bottle back to his best friend. "I'll be done in a little bit. Gotta train hard to play hard, right?" He smiles before running away again, because its all he knows what to do.
xxx
Tooru sleeps in on Sunday, hoping his mother isn't home when he's able to drag himself out of bed. He lingers around his room, starts three different match recordings before realizing he won't be focusing today.
He takes a shower, setting the water on the coldest he can handle, sighing at the numb feeling that washes over his body. It's past noon when he gets out, drying his wet hair with a towel as he walks downstairs.
Tooru stops when he gets to the bottom, regarding the woman sitting at the kitchen counter, open bottle of wine and half empty glass in front of her. Her hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, the color matching Tooru's with a few gray hairs mixed in. Her eyes are dull and sunken and her tanned skin looks yellow in the kitchen lighting. She's mumbling about something on her phone, not registering Tooru's appearance until he turns to go back to his room, the stair creaking under him.
"Tooru?" She calls, a twinge of hopefulness lining her voice. His stomach flops and he runs up the stairs, closing his door and resting his back against like he did as a child. His heart pounds in his chest, his eyes sting. His breath hitches as he hears footsteps on the stairs, stopping to rest in front of his door. If he bothers to look under the door he'll see socked feet fidgeting, stepping back for a moment before coming forwards again.
"Tooru, sweetie, please let me see you," her voice croaks. It's strained from years of abuse, years of screaming and drinking matches with herself.
A tear streams from his eye and he opens his mouth to say something, but a strangled sob escapes instead. He quickly covers his mouth with his hand, squeezing his eyes. He hears her shuffle behind the door before it moves with added weight against it, her back pressing in on the door. Her head connects with a soft bump, a sigh escaping. "I never meant to let this happen, baby. I swear I tried."
He cries then, waiting until she gets up and leaves before he turns off the lights and crawls into bed, curling around his pillow and pulling the blankets over him, like he did as a kid.
xxx
Tooru wakes up around eleven the next day, not caring too much about missing a day of school. He's sure one day won't do anything but mess with his attendance, which is damn near perfect so he doesn't waste more thoughts on it.
The house is silent, and after a quick check of the fridge, he trudges upstairs again to sleep away hunger and, hopefully, his headache.
He gets to the top, only stopping when he nearly bumps into a slightly shorter version of himself. He pauses, making eye contact with his mom before pushing past her, opening and closing his door, locking it before he throws the covers back and the tears return.
xxx
A harsh knock wakes him later, his phone screen telling him it's after seven. It sounds again minutes later, followed by quiet grumbling. Tooru parts his chapped lips, says, "Go away, Iwaizumi." He grimaces at how raw his voice sounds and shoves his face into his pillow again.
There's more fumbling with the doorknob before Hajime finally pulls out his student ID, slides in through the door crack, pushing it open and closing it again, going ahead go lock it.
"You can't just skip school," he says, "Or practice, for that matter. The hell's up with you?" His bags dropped on the floor next to his bed, followed by his jacket. Hajime sits on the edge of his bed, yanking softly at the blanket pulled over his head. "Seriously, Oikawa, please tell me."
Tooru doesn't respond, doesn't acknowledge anything but the burning behind his eyes and God, why can't he stop crying? Hajime sighs and pushes at his back, shoving his towards the other side of the bed. He turns and lays in the open space, fights for some blanket before pulling it over his as well. He rests his back against Tooru's, let's his head bump into his.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," he says, "I just wanted to check up on you. You scare the shit out of me, sometimes." Tooru chokes on a sob, pushing the pillow against his face harder. Hajime turns, arms wrapping around his stomach and pulling his closer, despite the noise of protest. His hand finds one of Tooru's, pulls it away from the pillow and intertwines their fingers. He holds him, burying his face into his back.
"You're enough, Tooru." and he holds him, because that's all he knows to do when Tooru gets like this. The tears continue to stream down his cheeks, the quiet sobs turning into choking noise.
Hajime holds Tooru's hand as he cries harder.