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Olives are not native to Japan. It was in 1908 that olive trees were successfully introduced on Shodo Island, Japan.
Iwa-chan's mother wasn't from Japan either, and so were her green eyes. Emeralds from some Mediterranean country which Oikawa could never remember the name of. Sometimes, when looking at Hajime, he wondered how a boy could look so much like his mom.
Oikawa didn't really like olives— too bitter for his taste. But he knew Iwa-chan loved them, just like he loved sunbathing whenever the weather was good for it.
So, when it got warmer during the weekend, Oikawa pulled out his phone, an iPhone 5! The most recent one! His wallpaper was a selfie of him, accompanied by Iwa-chan, Mattsun and Maki. He doesn't remember when he took this picture, just that he judged it good enough to be seen everyday. He opened Snapchat to text Iwa-chan, he preferred the social media over the regular message app, plus he liked to joke about Hajime's phone (a Samsung Galaxy S he got In his first year) was too old to receive messages, which would earn Oikawa not-so-playful punches from Iwa-chan.
TODAY
ME
iwa-chan!! are you busy rn?? ( ≧∀≦)ノ
IWA-CHAN (^3^)/～♡
Yeah. I'm studying
Why
ME
aww( ￣-￣) u should come over!
IWA-CHAN (^3^)/～♡
Shittykawa I literally just told you that I'm studying
ME
you can study at my place tho
we could study together!
IWA-CHAN (^3^)/～♡
My ass
Every time we do that we end up watching your shitty alien movies
ME
my alien movies are great! thank you! (￣ヘ￣メ)
i bought fresh olives from the market and got two sits in the garden but ig ill enjoy those alone!
IWA-CHAN (^3^)/～♡
.
Fine I'll be there soon
The study books were left on the table after a few hours, exchanged for chatter under the 5 PM sunshine. Tooru’s garden had a pool, which made the heat easier to handle for him, it added fresh air to the atmosphere. No amount of water could cool down the warmth in his chest when Hajime laughed at something he said. He heard that sound so many times but he could never get tired of it, that's what he thought at least.
He watched as Hajime, still giggling, started to bend towards the table to grab a handful of olives. “Iwa–chan! Your greed disgusts me, at this rate there will be none left for me!” Tooru teased, he barely cared for the fruits, only interested in the reaction Hajime would give him.
The tanner boy sticked out his tongue, his eyebrows frowned. “You don't even like ‘em, Shittykawa! Like, you straight up barely touched them.” He shoved the fruits in his mouth. A part of Oikawa thought it would be funny if one of them somehow still had its pits.
“I do like them, Iwa–chan!” He grabbed a singular olive but Hajime wasn't paying attention, too busy struggling to chew and regretting putting that much in his mouth.
When standing a few meters away from Iwaizumi Hajime, you'd think his eyes are dark, almost black. But when you get closer, when the details of his teenage face get clearer, you suddenly get greeted by a pale, shining green.
Maybe Oikawa could bring himself to like olives. To like their bitterness at their emerald immature state and the savory one it reaches once fully black. Iwa-chan didn't have a preference, green or black, olives were olives. But when holding one of these jade-like things while looking at Hajime, he thought that maybe the green ones, though bitter, had a crunch to them that made it worth it.
They had nothing similar to the milk bread he loves. He remembers that time he watched in horror Iwaizumi dip a piece of bread into a small bowl of olive oil. “Bread is bread, Shittykawa.” He said before taking a bite, followed by a regretful expression. The sweetness of the bread didn't go well with the oil, so Iwaizumi went ahead and grabbed the sourdough his mother had prepared. Better. To him, no snack could beat this combo. It took a lot of convincing and a smack to the head for Oikawa to try it out. It was not as bad as he expected, even good. He was originally butthurt that not everything he likes will pair with what Iwaizumi likes but that was a stupid thought.
They stayed outside until the night took over the sky, stargazing until it was dinner time. Iwaizumi lived only a few houses away but Oikawa judged it was too late to let Iwa–chan out in the wild, so he told him to stay over. It happens often, Oikawa’s sleeping clothes were just a bit bigger on Iwaizumi anyways.
Oikawa slept on his bed while Iwaizumi got the futon on the floor, there was a time where they would rest on the same mattress but now they judged they were too grown for that, they were tall and their limbs wouldn't fit like they used to. But then, Oikawa would join Iwa-chan on the futon, “Just so they can talk longer” he said after finishing the movie they'd watched, promising to go back to his bed once they're both sleepy, which never happened. They would always wake up half on the futon and half on the floor. It was routine.The warmth of the person you knew since forever was comforting to the two of them.
Olives are not native to Argentina. The trees came there due to its colonization by Spain in the 16th century. and Argentina happens to be situated perfectly for the cultivation of this Mediterranean species.
Oikawa Tooru never had a green thumb, so his teammates were surprised when learning that the dirt under his nails was from planting an olive tree in his garden.
He had recently turned 26 and the last time he met up with Iwaizumi was 6 years ago. It was quick, awkward and a fuel to this already strong homesickness for not a place— but a person. The last time they texted was 4 months ago, simple small talk. Too simple for what they had, or used to have at least. But that was the cost of adulthood, the cost of kilometers and kilometers of water separating them.
The now Argentinian setter acquired the tree on an impulsive move, which he didn't know how to feel about. He grew a fondness for the fruits’ savor but he doubts that he liked it enough to justify starting to cultivate them in his own garden. He had to accept it was symbolic, somehow. As stupid as this was.
There were always empty promises of Iwaizumi visiting him in San Juan, but if that does happen, Oikawa wants Hajime to look at that goddamn tree and understand how sorry Tooru is for letting their friendship fade away. Olive branches were considered an offering of peace, right?
Olives are not native to Japan or Argentina. Sure, they could be cultivated in other places now, and settle down in newer lands. But it will never be the same, they could never reach the savory they could've had.
It's still surprising to Tooru that such a great olive tree bloomed in Japan. And he wonders if it would've been as beautiful in Argentina, but who would move a tree whose roots already deep in the soil?