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He’s fine. It’s something he’s had to say for years when it became quite obvious that Oikawa wasn’t special, that the only thing magical about him that made him normal was the name printed on his skin in a deep burgundy, stark against the pale skin of his inner wrist. He supposes he’d be considered special if his mark was. Soulmarks are rarely boring. As a window to the soul, soulmarks represent what one's soulmate is like. No mark is the same, no name written out exactly alike. He’s seen the girls around school who have an entire limb covered by their mark, with intricate designs and an array of colors that could rival any tattoo one could design. He, on the other hand, merely has the words ‘Tendou Satori’ written out on his wrist in a simple print. Small enough to hide beneath a watch.
But again, he’s fine.
If he wasn’t fine, then that meant he was hurting, and if he was hurting than he would break and if there’s one thing that Oikawa refuses to do its break .
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to.
Breaking would be so easy. So easy to just crumble and fall under the pressure. He wishes his pride would let him.
It won’t.
As it is, it’s his pride that put him in the situation he’s in now, with a scowl on his face and a snarl on his tongue.
Iwaizumi is standing in front of him, face torn between anger and hurt, hands clenched at his side.
“You’re being ridiculous Tooru.” He screams at him, and maybe he’s right. Maybe Oikawa is being ridiculous. Except.
Except Oikawa is tired . He’s tired of pretending, tired of being a pity case. He’s tired of Iwaizumi looking at him as if he’s about to break.
Most of all though he’s tired of living a lie.
“He’s grouchier than you.” Oikawa says. “Even more of a brute.”
“Tooru, would you please -”
“I guess that’s why you have Mr. Refreshing too huh?”
“ Tooru. ”
Iwaizumi looks far too pale for someone who had just found not just one but both his soulmates, someone who’s life had just fallen into place just as fate had wanted.
Oikawa wants to take that look away. He wants his Iwa-chan smiling again, wants to pretend they can move past this. He wants and that’s the whole problem isn’t it? He wants and wants and wants but that doesn’t mean he can have.
It doesn’t mean Oikawa can’t lose his boyfriend of three years and childhood best friend just because Iwaizumi finally realized how amazing his soulmates are.
It had only been a matter of time, he knew that from the beginning. Knew from the instant spark of heat he had seen pass between Iwaizumi and a gruff and bulky and far too intimidating first year named Kyoutani Kentarou back when they were younger. Knew it when their first practice match against Karasuno had pushed a boy by the name of Sugawara Koushi to the bench to cheer on his teammates on the sidelines. A boy who flinched when Oikawa had called out Iwaizumi’s name right as he had entered the game.
Sugawara Koushi and Kyoutani Kentarou. Two names so different, just as different as the two men who held them. Two names that are printed along the tan skin of Iwaizumi’s chest, right over his heart, right where they belonged.
“We can make this work.”
The pleading in his voice is unexpected, so much that Oikawa can't help the shocked expression he wears when he finally meets Iwaizumi’s gaze again.
It’s not often that Iwaizumi cries. Its rare enough that when it happens Oikawa is left floundering for an excuse to make him stop, because he doesn’t know how to handle it. Iwaizumi looks the same now as he did the last time he had cried, and just like before Oikawa wants to help.
Except they can’t keep pretending forever.
Oikawa Tooru is eighteen years old when he graduates from Aoba Jousai and bids his teammates farewell one last time. He is eighteen years old when he tells Iwaizumi goodbye as well.
Oikawa is eighteen years old and he’s fine .
The first month of college is exactly how Oikawa pictured it. Long, stressful, and oh so busy. He spends most of his days either downing three cups of coffee a day to keep up with his rigorous training or tugging at his hair fretfully with his nose in no less than three text books.
The second month he’s starting to get his footing, though not by much, and it’s only with the help of an annoying but well meaning teammate named Bokuto decides that he’s atrocious at math and decides to assist him. He honestly thought Bokuto had been joking at first, but after the surprisingly intimidating wing spiker dragged him to the library after practice one day and forced the setter to remember an entire sheet of formulas and theories, Oikawa thinks that maybe he is wrong.
Oikawa is proven wrong when he manages to ace an exam for the first time ever after two weeks of gruelling tutoring sessions.
Not that he’s going to admit that.
By the third month Oikawa admits that he may finally gotten used to the differences between high school and college. It’s much more work than Oikawa predicted but he’s managing. If he’s only managed around twelve hours of sleep in the last four days and stayed at least two hours after their team’s official practice has ended to work on his serves and sets, well. It’s not like he has anyone around now to stop him.
It’s in the third month that not just one but two very annoying faces decide to insert themselves in his life.
Ushijima Wakatoshi barrels through his college the same way he does the court, with a purpose and confidence that sets Oikawa on edge just breathing near him. He had been eternally grateful when he found out the college Ushijima had chosen, while still far too close to him, wasn’t his. It does, however, beg the question as to why Ushijima is at his school now.
If Oikawa was kinder he might have offered to ask just why the great Ushiwaka decided to grace his school with his overbearing presence. As it is though, Oikawa decides his little corner of the courtyard is far too cozy to move from, and instead watches amusedly as the other continues to look around skeptically, obviously lost.
Ushijima doesn’t seem all too interested at the other students throwing him suspicious glances, or the way a group of girls passing by take one look at his body and scuttle away blushing and giggling. Its obvious he’s not looking for something, but some one and Oikawa instantly tries to wrack his brain for any familiar faces he may haved passed in the halls on the way to class that screamed ‘Shiratorizawa-made.’ It’s a large campus though, and after a few minutes Oikawa comes up blank and accepts the fact that he’s going to have to just keep watching to find out.
He doesn’t expect the shock of red hair.
Oikawa counts himself as extremely lucky to have not been taking a drink because if he had he would have choked and it would have been none other than Ushiwaka’s fault. No that’s not entirely true. Ushiwaka wouldn’t have been the only one to blame.
Tendou Satori would have shared at least half of the blame for his death.
It’s not clear who spots who first. It really doesn't matter, he supposes, with the way Ushi’s constant scowl seems to give way to an actual smile or the way Tendou whoops loudly as he barrels into his ex captains chest.
It’s a touching scene, Oikawa admits, even as he feels his insides twist with a familiar ache and his soulmark burning on his wrist when he watches Tendou smile up at Ushijima, watches the tallers expression melt into a sort of exasperated fondness at the red-heads antics. Tendou merely grinning in response, just as he leans up and catches the other in a sweet kiss.
Oikawa takes that as his cue to leave.
His hands are shaking slightly, he realizes, as he moves to stand from his little corner. Its faint, the tremors, but they're still there and that's more than enough to have him quicken his pace.
He’ll just say he’s late to class anyway, he decides, should anyone ask why the ever popular Oikawa-san had all but bolted out of the courtyard that day. He’ll just smile at the concerned glances thrown his way, honey dipped words soothing any worry.
Afterall, he’s fine.
Tendou Satori starts popping up in Oikawa’s line of vision everyday for the remainder of the semester. It seems that whatever rock Oikawa been living under decided he needed a bit of sun and decided that throwing the illustrious Guess Monster at him was the perfect way to do just that.
Oikawa can’t seem to escape him.
Now that he’s aware Tendou attends his school it’s impossible to ignore, and though he misses his ignorance he determines to plow on as he always did before. It’s easy, as it should be, to continue to ignore Tendou’s existence. Afterall they share no classes, no breaks, and as far as Oikawa can tell they don't even share the same dormitory. Even better is that it seems Tendou is completely unaware of Oikawa’s existence. So Oikawa merely carries on with his life, spending weeks on end either in the gym practicing or his room studying, and before he knows it finals have arrived and then the semester is over.
If throughout those weeks he just so happened to include Oikawa scratching idly at his wrist where his soulmark is, well. It’s fine.
Oikawa can’t say he’s not happy to be headed home for a visit. He really can’t, because he gets to see his sister and parents again as well as his adorable nephew. He also plans on visiting his old team and checking in with Yahaba to see how he’s handling his role of captain.
So yes, he’s excited as can be, and he’s in good spirits when he finally manages to step off the train with his suitcase rolling behind him.
That mood ends when he sees a certain Mr. Refreshing lip locked with Iwaizumi not too far away from his train.
It shouldn’t bug him, he tells himself over and over. It shouldn’t because he chose this, it was his decision to cut all contact with Iwaizumi the moment he stepped on a train to Tokyo without nothing more than a goodbye and never looked back.
That doesn’t mean the pain isn’t still there.
He figures he should be mature about it though, confront them both and tie up any loose ends. He should, but he’s only on the cusp of being twenty and frankly maturity can screw itself in the ass.
Oikawa tries to slip past them without drawing their attention instead.
He is almost near the front of the station, almost home free, when a hesitant and shocked “Tooru?” reaches his ears.
Oikawa turns around to see not just Iwaizumi staring incredulously at him, but Mr. Refreshing -- Suga, his name is Suga -- himself.
Oikawa can only imagine what he looks like at the moment, with eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and the small shake in his hand that he can never seem to stop when under pressure. He must be a sight, because Iwaizumi looks worried, and for that matter so does Sugawara as they close in on him.
They reach him far quicker than Oikawa can get his mask back up.
“Long time no see Iwa-chan.” Oikawa starts when it becomes apparent Iwaizumi won’t speak first, and Sugawara seems uncertain of what exactly is going on. “I didn’t expect to see you at the station.” The ‘ or at all’ isn’t said but it rings loud and clear. Oikawa knows Iwaizumi got the message when he flinches ever so slightly. Sugawara’s brow furrows.
“Oikawa-san” The silver haired man starts, “It’s nice to officially meet you. Well, off the court that is.”
His face is welcoming and warm to a degree Oikawa wishes was insincere. It almost hurts looking at, the way Sugawara seems so genuinely pleased to meet him. It almost makes Oikawa want to forgive .
Except there’s nothing to even forgive, if he’s honest with himself, because for him to forgive Sugawara the other would have to actually have done something in the first place. Sugawara didn’t choose to have Iwaizumi’s name on his skin, just like Iwaizumi didn’t choose to have his. Fate’s a fickle thing and a bitch to boot, so he can’t hold that over Sugawara just as he can’t hold it over Iwaizumi.
Iwaizumi remains quiet, and Oikawa knows whatever he does here and now determines the outcome of their friendship.
So Oikawa merely smiles back, lets the bitterness settle down, and greets one of his best friends soulmates as if his heart isn’t ripping to pieces the longer he stays.
He leaves back to Tokyo at the end of their break with a relationship on the mend between he and Iwaizumi and tentative new friendships with Sugawara and Kyoutani. For the first time in a while, he’s actually fine.
New semesters bring new challenges and Oikawa knows this. He has accepted the fact that his second semester of college would be no easier than the first, and he was fine with that, really. He was fine all the way back to the campus, he was fine the entire trip to where a school official was handing out the keys to his new dorm room and he was even fine on his trek up to where he and his new roommate would be spending the next six months together. His last roommate wasn’t too terrible, and he’s not too worried about this one being anything but bearable as well.
He stopped being fine when he opened the door to his new room and found no other than Tendou Satori behind it.
“You have got to be shitting me.” Is the first thing out of Tendou’s mouth once he spots Oikawa gaping from the doorway, and Oikawa just knows this semester will be a long one.
He’s made it through worse before though. He’ll be fine.
Oikawa is, admittedly, the complete opposite of fine by the time the first month of their living arrangement ends. While it hadn’t been perfect at first, what with Oikawa’s pride and Tendou’s everything they were bound to clash on more than one occasion. The entire first week had been spent like that. If Tendou wasn’t butting his nose into things that it certainly did not belong in (like his soulmark for starters) than Oikawa was tripping over discarded Shonen Jump magazines left haphazardly across their shared space and screaming at Tendou to stop being such a pig.
It’s not his best moment, if he’s honest with himself. Really Tendou isn’t so different from Oikawa’s old roommate.
Except for the fact his old roommate hadn’t been his soulmate, of course. And that’s the problem isn’t it? Oikawa is bitter and defensive because he’s trapped in a room with the man who had no clue they were soulmates.
The man who had the name Ushijima Wakatoshi enveloping the entire length of his left arm instead of the name Oikawa Tooru .
When the second week seems as if it’s going to follow the same pattern as the previous Oikawa knows somethings going to have to give. The problem is Tendou doesn’t even know why Oikawa is so damn bitter, besides the seeming belief that he’s still holding a grudge against Ushijima. (Which isn’t true. He let go of that grudge the day he saw a murder of crows take down the mighty eagle, and the way Ushijima had held Tendou after everything was over.) Still, seeing as Tendou is oblivious, it’s Oikawa that will have to relent.
It goes… About as well as expected. There is sharp words and low blows, but at the end of it all Tendou is laughing at Oikawa’s need to always be so damn serious, and Oikawa trying to ignore the way Tendou’s laugh makes the burning of his mark ease just the slightest.
It’s getting harder to ignore. He still insists that he’s fine.
Befriending Tendou is possibly the best and worst mistake Oikawa had ever made. It’s a friendship not unlike what he had between Makki and Mattsun, full of memes and regret , and honestly had it been between him and anyone else he’d easily have become a best friend in no time. Except.
Except Oikawa can only lie for so long without crumbling.
If there’s one thing Oikawa’s soulmark has taught him it’s that all good things must come to an end. It’s easy at first, pretending Tendou’s casual touches don’t make his heart quicken or send chills down his spine. It’s easy, until it’s not.
He would have been fine. Really. He had been doing so good and he had been pretty damn proud of the way his mask never once slipped. Sure, Ushijima’s frequent visits left him rattled for days afterwards. It was only to be expected, and as petty as he can be he can’t find it in him to hate the other man for wanting to be with his soulmate as much as he can. Afterall, Oikawa is. Hell, he lives with his soulmate. His soulmate just doesn’t know it.
Which, yeah okay hurts but really he’s getting over it. He is.
Of course that’s when fate decides it’s not done screwing him over just yet.
He’ll never admit it, not even under pain of death but Oikawa had often found himself imagining just what Tendou would look like when being fucked into the mattress. He’s human, and a growing man, and who also is being forced to live with his soulmate without ever knowing what exactly his touch feels like. So yes, Oikawa thinks it’s perfectly normal to have imagined such a scene once or twice. Which is why, in Oikawa’s mind, Tendou was a screamer.
He really wishes he had been right on that.
If he had been, then maybe he would have known something was up when he decided to come back to his dorm a few hours early to the very surprising lack of noise coming from their room. If he had, then maybe he would have questioned just why the lights had been off in the room when he knew Tendou was already back.
If he had, he wouldn’t have proceeded to, against all better judgement, turn on the lights just to see a very naked and very red Tendou pinned beneath an equally naked Ushijima.
There’s a very small moment when Oikawa is too shocked to even move that Tendou’s eyes meet his. One moment where Oikawa wants to scream about how this isn’t fair to the universe, before he stutters out a quick apology before slamming the door shut and bolting.
His soulmark is burning and there are tears prickling in the corners of his eyes but it’s fine . Just like it always is.
He ends up going to the gym to practice. It’s the only thing that clears his head anymore. He keeps at it until every muscle is burning and he limps his way out afterwards. He ends up sleeping at a friends that night.
He spends most the night assuring himself he’s fine.
It becomes a sort of unspoken rule between Oikawa and Tendou to not bring that night up. It’s stupid really, how deep of a rift it seemed to cause between Oikawa and Tendou’s friendship. Oikawa can see Tendou’s confused by the sudden cold shoulder, and he can’t blame him for that. It’s no secret between them that Ushijima is the red-heads soulmate, and that they fuck wherever Ushijima can make it over for a visit. It’s no secret, but there’s a difference between knowing something and actually witnessing it.
Oikawa’s soulmark had been burning constantly since that day, and the pain is just another reminder of just how fucked he really is. So he does what he does best. He runs away from his problems.
If Oikawa isn’t in the library then he’s at the gym practicing. It’s oddly reminiscent of his first semester when he had struggled to find a balance in his new life. Which, if he’s honest, is fitting for his situation. Whatever balance Oikawa had found had completely shattered along with any sort of ignorance he pretended to still have. He only returns to his and Tendou’s room when he knows the other will be asleep and he rises just early enough to shower and get changed before Tendou wakes.
If he’s lucky he gets around five hours of sleep at night by doing this, and between school and practice Oikawa can feel his body protesting the abuse. His knee in particular, which had only acted up once or twice a month if he was careful, throbbed steadily at all hours. The limp had yet to go entirely away, seemingly only getting worse each minute weight was put on it, but if there was one thing Oikawa was used to it was pain. He ices it when he can, a few quick trips to the nurse in between classes, before returning right back to what he had been doing.
Tendou had seemed to have given up on trying to corner Oikawa somewhere around the third week following that night. Oikawa would says he’s grateful, because with games coming up that’s one less thing to worry about, but it’s a bittersweet feeling. His mom had always told him how his dad had chased her for months on end to get a date with her, even after they realized they were soulmates. He always imagined his soulmate would have done the same, and as a child Oikawa had dreamed of his soulmate chasing after him no matter what stood between them. It had always seemed so romantic to him.
He realizes now how childish a thought that had been.
Oikawa still doesn’t return to his rooms unless he knows Tendou’s asleep though. Habits are a hard thing to break and even if Tendou stopped chasing him he can’t guarantee he can stop running. He’s too good at it.
It’s not any different that night. Instead of following his senpais and heading back to their dorms or with their friends out after practice Oikawa lingers behind. When he offers to lock the gym up himself he’s given the keys and a stern warning not to fool around before being left to his own devices. Oikawa knows the drill by now, after spending weeks doing such, Oikawa makes sure the gym is cleared out and as tidy as needed before he grabs the cart they keep the balls in. Without a spiker practicing sets is nearly useless, so improving his serve is his main focus in these late night sessions. He doesn’t need to per say, his serve is nearly unmatched even at college level, but that doesn’t mean Oikawa can afford to slack and if that means heaving his way through another three hours then he’ll do just that.
He starts off easy, as he always does, facing off against an opponent that isn’t there and focusing on controlling where the ball lands. It’s something he’s good at, but knows he could be better, and the first hour is spent with him trying to hit the same four spots over and over again while increasing the serves power.
The second hour follows a similar routine, except this time the focus is on power alone. If he’s being honest the second hour is just an excuse to blow off steam. Without the focus of accuracy, Oikawa is free to hit the ball as fast and as hard as he possibly can. He cannot even begin to count how many bruises the second hour usually costs him, or deny the way his palms sting and blister and his hands can’t stop shaking even hours after he finished up practice. He should stop, or at least lessen the amount of time spent doing such, but he’s stubborn. It doesn’t help that Oikawa can only truly feel like he isn’t drowning until after the hour is up.
The third hour is typically where Oikawa’s more self-destructive tendencies become a problem. His energy is usually drained by his point, knee throbbing and arms practically screaming from the exercise. It’s in the third hour that Oikawa can practically hear Iwaizumi screaming at him to stop in his head, can almost remember the way Iwaizumi’s hands feel when wrapped around his wrist as he dragged him out of the gym to rest.
It’s in the third hour that everything comes crashing down.
Oikawa doesn’t think of much when he serves. It’s a mindless task that his body has memorized the movements for, which is exactly why he should have realized the slight twinge of fear that shot through him as he jumped up to serve wasn’t a good sign. The moments he’s in the air time seems to halt for just a moment. Just one small moment, when Oikawa can see over the net and watch the ball fly gracefully over it. One moment, to realize the blinding pain in his knee, before he lands on final time.
He doesn’t remember ending up on the ground, doesn’t remember falling , but next thing he knows he is curled up screaming as he hold his knee to his chest. He’s vaguely aware of the tears falling freely down his face and the burning of his throat as his screams and cries echo in the empty gym. It hurts it hurts it hurts is the only thing going through his mind other than help and he’s dimly aware of his hands moving on autopilot to where his phone rests in his bag. He doesn’t think as he scrambles to get it out of the bag, doesn’t even think twice when he scrolls through his contact list to hit a numer he rarely ever used.
Oikawa doesn’t think even as Tendou’s sleepy and confused voice filters in through the speakers with a grumbled “Hello?” before he’s blubbering out where he is and that it hurts and it hurts so bad please, please help it hurts it hurts it hurts.
Oikawa blacks out from the pain before Tendou even makes it out the door.
When Oikawa awaken, its to blank walls and sterile sheets and a sharp pain in his knee that has him keening. When he looks down he can see a cast wrapped tightly around his knee, thick and ugly and oh so foreboding. When he tries to move it, to try to convince himself this is some twisted nightmare, the pain is too much that he flinches back into the bed with a silent scream and a few tears shed.
Oikawa is scared and confused and it’s only when he feels on the verge of a complete breakdown that he realizes he’s not the only one in the room.
If there was anybody in the world that Oikawa would choose to not be in the room with him it would be Ushijima and Tendou. Which of course means they’re both present.
Ushijima is seemingly asleep, tucked away as much as his large body allows in the furthest corner of the room so as not to impose on the staff coming in to check on Oikawa.
Tendou, however, seemed to have decided to have taken the closest seat possible to Oikawa’s bed as he could, as awake as could be and staring at where Oikawa rests.
Oikawa is just about to snap at the other for being a creep, because watching people when they sleep is beyond creepy, when he finally notices.
His band is gone. His band is gone and the name Tendou Satori stands out proudly against his wrist. Exactly where Tendou himself is staring.
Oikawa wants nothing more than to pretend to still be asleep, to pretend this isn’t happening and that when he opens his eyes Tendou and Ushijima will be gone and he’ll be safe and sound in his own bed. He tries to, except Tendou’s eyes are already on him and he knows there’s no more pretending. No more running.
Oikawa can pretend all he wants that the horrified look on Tendou’s face when their eyes meet doesn’t completely rip him apart. He can pretend that the argument following it didn’t make the burning of his soulmark burn throughout his entire arm, that even through his tears and harsh words his mind isn’t screaming ‘no please, i’m sorry, please accept me, don’t leave please please please.’
He can pretend that his hope doesn't completely shatter when Tendou grabs Ushijima from where he sits watching silently and storms out of the room before the nurses could finally kick them out. He can pretend all he wants that everything will get better. He can pretend for one more moment that he’s fine.
He’s just not quite ready to admit to himself that he’ll never be fine.