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When you were teenagers, you had joked that if you were both still single at thirty, you’d just marry each other.
It had been a stupid joke, obviously.
You were friends with the one and only Toru Oikawa. All the girls loved him. His fluffy hair, his devastating smile, those big brown eyes that could convince anyone of anything. There was no universe where Oikawa would be single at thirty. He would be married with children by then, wildly successful, dazzling the world the way he always had.
If anyone was going to end up alone, it would be you.
You had a good circle of friends. You were smart. You were pretty, too. But nowhere near as dazzling as starboy Oikawa. You hadn’t been asked on many dates in school, and it certainly hadn’t helped that Iwaizumi kept such a watchful eye on you that most boys didn’t dare try. But still, your lack of dating in school didn’t give you much confidence in your long term love life.
And then life happened.
Oikawa became even more brilliant and left for Argentina. You went to university, graduated, stepped into successful corporate life. You kept in touch with Iwaizumi, grew close to his girlfriend, built a steady mix of old friends and new ones.
Your life was full.
Your love life, however, was not.
Not that you minded. You had matured into an adult, relationships didn’t hold the same weight, the same dreamy allure as they did when you were a teenager. You were happy being single, if anything, you were thriving. Still, sometimes the dark nights felt lonely.
So when Iwaizumi called to tell you Oikawa had had a change of heart and was moving back to Japan, you didn’t even remember the old marriage pact. You went to the welcome-back celebration and re-met Oikawa. At first, it was awkward, but then you slipped back into old habits, old jokes. It was like muscle memory. Like he had never really left.
You hadn’t expected being friends with an international sports star to feel so easy. And now you did the grocery runs together.
It became a routine. Friday nights, he’d finish training and you’d finish work. He’d pick you up, fresh out of the shower, smelling faintly of soap and lavender, and you’d wander the supermarket aisles together. He’d grab what he needed and so would you. Then you’d head back to your place, unpack the bags side by side. He’d borrow your fridge and freezer space until he decided to go home. In the meantime, you’d order takeaway and sit on your living room floor, catching up on the week.
You were halfway through unpacking the groceries when Oikawa suddenly started to chuckle behind you.
You slid the box of cereal into the cupboard and shot him a look.
“What’s so funny?”
He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips, his fluffy brown hair swaying with the movement.
“Nothing.”
You poked him in the ribs with a cucumber. “No, what is it?”
He swatted the cucumber away, making a face of clear displeasure before rolling his eyes. “It really was nothing. I was just thinking we must look like an old married couple.”
You nearly dropped the produce in your hand before letting out a startled laugh.
“Yeah, right. More like disgruntled roommates fighting for kitchen space.”
That made him pause.
“What would be so bad about being married?” he asked.
You had finally finished putting everything away. Bundling your reusable bags together, you shoved them back under the cupboard before turning and leaning against the counter.
“Do you really think your fangirls would want you married to someone nameless like me?” you said. “Don’t you have, like, three major pairings they’re rooting for? There was an idol… what was her name again…”
You trailed off, trying to remember.
“I don’t care about that,” Oikawa said as he finished packing his dry ingredients into a bag to take back to his place. “Anyway, I always imagined myself dating my best friend.”
“Unfortunately, Iwaizumi’s already taken,” you smirked.
Oikawa marched over to the sofa, grabbed a pillow, and immediately launched it at your face. You yelped, giggling as you ducked out of the way.
“Though honestly,” you added between laughs, “you and Iwaizumi would make a pretty cute couple.”
“That’s not very nice of you, y’know,” he said.
Then he stalked over and started tickling you.
“Don’t break my heart by reminding me my sweet Iwa-chan will never come back to me.”
Tears leaked from your eyes as you tried desperately to shove him away, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. Before you could recover, he suddenly scooped you up, tossing you over his shoulder.
“Oikawa!”
A moment later he dropped you onto the sofa.
He leaned over you, bracing himself with one hand and elbow on the cushions. You were still giggling, wiping tears from your eyes, too distracted to notice the way he was looking at you. There was a soft smile on his face.
You wiped your cheeks, then pouted.
“Marrying Iwaizumi would definitely make your fangirls happy. They’re still obsessed with the two of you. Even more now that you’re back from Argentina and spending time with him again.” You hiccupped slightly from laughing. “That shirtless picture you posted of the two of you at the gym the other day was lethal. Isn’t it the most liked picture on your page?”
He nodded, sitting up and draping his arm along the back of the sofa behind you.
“So you liked that picture, huh?”
You blushed slightly as you pulled yourself upright and tucked your legs underneath you.
“You both looked good.”
Oikawa snorted.
“Why can’t you just give me a compliment?” he complained. “Why does Iwaizumi have to share it?”
“Wouldn’t want it to go to your head, starboy,” you laughed.
Silence settled between you. It was comfortable. You curled further into the sofa, feeling the exhaustion from the week sink deep into your bones.
“Have you ever thought about marriage?” Oikawa asked, glancing over at you.
You yawned. “Me?” You blinked at him sleepily. “Not really. I mean… I haven’t exactly had relationships that last long enough. Maybe I’m not marriage material.”
“That’s not true,” Oikawa said. “Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
You shrugged. “I’m fine on my own.”
You pulled out your phone and started scrolling through takeaway options. You weren’t really sure what you felt like tonight… maybe pizza?
“Marry me.”
For a moment, the earth stopped turning.
You stared at your phone screen, blinking slowly like it might somehow help you process what you had just heard. Then you glanced up at Oikawa, wondering if you had somehow hallucinated it.
“Did you just say something?” you asked awkwardly.
“Marry me.”
He said it again. There was no smile on his face. No hint of a joke. His dark eyes were serious, yet soft in a way that made your chest tighten.
“That’s not funny, Oikawa,” you said.
“I’m being serious,” he replied quietly. “We made a promise.”
A promise? Shit. The promise.
“You’re kidding, right?!” you exclaimed. “We were kids. Stupid kids. That promise doesn’t matter anymore. Being single in at thirty doesn’t mean anything anymore.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he said, pouting slightly. Then his mouth settled into a thin, stubborn line. “And I want this.”
“Why?” you breathed. “If you’re that desperate to get married, ask one of your ex-girlfriends.” You eyed him suspiciously. “Is this some sort of PR stunt? Is your manager pressuring you?”
“No,” he laughed softly, the sound almost breathless. “Nothing like that.”
He reached over and took one of your hands in his. His touch was warm and soft. “I don’t want any of my ex-girlfriends,” he murmured. “None of them get me like you do. I want you.”
What the hell was happening?!
Part of you wanted to rip your hand free and run. Hide in your bedroom and slam the door. Pretend this whole conversation never happened. The other part of you wanted to move closer. No. That was dangerous.
“I don’t understand,” you said honestly. “Where is this coming from?”
He smirked faintly, then began tracing small shapes across the back of your hand with his fingertip. His gaze dropped to watch the movement, focused on the path his finger made across your skin.
“Moving away was the best thing for me career-wise and for my mental health. I had to stop living in the shadow of the others, like Kageyama or Ushijima. But something was missing. Coming home I realised what that was. I needed my person. Not a PR-worthy girlfriend, but my person. The missing part of my soul. That’s always been you.”
You stopped his hands and looked up at him, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “We’re just friends, Oikawa.”
His eyes flickered with hurt.
“Maybe for you. But I always wanted more. When I was a kid, I was a fucking idiot. I was in love with you, but I put volleyball first. I put it above everything. You saw how good that did me. It cost me my friendship with Iwaizumi; I became the villain.”
You rolled your eyes. “You weren’t the villain.”
Oikawa pressed your hand against his face.
“Tell me the truth,” he said quietly. “And if the answer is no, I’ll drop it. I’ll never bring it up again. I’ll stay your friend.” His voice softened. “But do you have feelings for me? Even a little?” His big brown eyes searched yours, full of hope and something that looked dangerously like fear. “Is there any chance… that I could win your heart?”
Your breath caught. You had always loved Oikawa. Those feelings had faded a little while he was gone, buried away in some locked corner of your heart. But the moment he came back, the vault had burst open.
“I…” The words died in your throat.
What the hell were you supposed to say?! That you’d been in love with him ever since you were a kid? That wouldn’t sound creepy at all.
“Please,” he begged. “Tell me.”
He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss into your palm, and you nearly melted.
“Why now?” you asked instead, dodging the question. “Why are you telling me this now?”
He looked at you confused, then you felt his face grow warm. He kept your hand pressed into his cheek.
“I guess…” he began quietly, “the more time I spend with you, the more I realise I never want it to end.” His thumb stroked gently over your fingers. “I want this to be our life. Coming home together every night. Sitting on the sofa like this. Talking about nothing.”
“And the thought of you doing that with someone else…” he grimaced. “It makes me feel sick.”
He looked back at you again, vulnerability written all over his face.
“I just want to know if you feel the same.”
You took a slow breath.
“Yeah… I guess I do.”
Then you shook your head.
“Wait. Not ‘I guess.’ I know I do.” Your voice softened. “I’ve always loved you, Oikawa. Since high school. I just… didn’t think I deserved you.”
For a moment he froze. Then tiny fireworks seemed to explode in his eyes. He let your hand go and surged forward, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you tightly.
“You mean it?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Wow. I guess I really am irresistible, huh?”
Blushing furiously, you smacked his chest. He leaned forward to kiss you, but you stopped him, pressing your fingers against his lips.
“But,” you said seriously, “I know I’m not what the press, your fans, or your management would want you to be with. I let you go once for your career. And if I had to… I’d do it again.”
You pulled your hand away from his lips. “I don’t want to start something that’s just going to break my heart.”
Gently, Oikawa gathered your hands in his and held them tight.
“I don’t care about that. I want you, and only you.” His lips curved into a grin. “Besides, the press would eat it up. Heartthrob Toru Oikawa, after several tragic romantic failures, finally finds true love with his childhood sweetheart who’s been waiting patiently for him all along.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Sounds pretty cute to me.”
Before you could respond, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
“And I will…” he kissed your other cheek.
“Stay with you…” a kiss to your forehead.
“Forever…” a kiss to your nose.
“And ever…” a kiss to your chin.
“And ever…” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck.
You burst into giggles, squirming further up the sofa as he chased after you with an exaggerated pout.
“Okay, okay,” you laughed. “I get it.”
“So…” he said hopefully, leaning closer again. “Will you marry me?”
You cupped his face between your hands, squishing his cheeks slightly. He only pouted harder.
“How about we start slow,” you said. “We try dating first. Then we can talk about marriage.”
His pout deepened. But when you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, it melted instantly into a smile.
“Alright,” he said softly. “Deal.”
And exactly one year later, after a year filled with late-night conversations, stolen kisses on the sofa, shared dinners, quiet mornings, and a thousand little moments that slowly turned friendship into something deeper, Toru Oikawa asked you to marry him again. And this time, smiling through happy tears, you said yes.