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Tanaka Ryūnosuke and Shimizu Kiyoko were getting married. The wedding had been talked about for months before it actually happened.
And considering the people they had somehow managed to invite, was less of a wedding and more of a fucking reunion. Half the people in the room had met because they played volleyball against or next to each other. The other half had probably been dragged into volleyball-related bullshit by someone who had. There were professional players, old teammates, people who had moved across the country, people who had moved across the world, and people who apparently haven’t changed since they were seventeen.
And the seating arrangement did not help.
Someone, presumably Tanaka, had decided that everyone would sit with their old teams. With that, you can really tell he was planning a reunion in his mind rather than a wedding.
Karasuno at one table. Aoba Johsai at another. Nekoma, Fukurodani, Shiratorizawa, Inarizaki, and everyone else scattered around the ballroom like it was nationals.
It seemed like a good idea, on paper.
In practice, Bokuto had already stolen food from Nekoma’s table, Atsumu was arguing with Osamu about what kind of dress Kiyoko was going to wear, and Nishinoya had somehow gotten Suga to take a picture of him and Hinata doing something that should not have been done in formalwear.
Tanaka, meanwhile, was having the best day of his life.
He had spent most of the afternoon looking like he was about to explode from happiness, which was fair. He was marrying Kiyoko. The woman he had been hopelessly in love with since forever was standing beside him in a wedding dress, and somehow she had actually said yes. No one was going to let him forget that.
Especially Nishinoya.
The whole place was chaotic, but familiar enough to make it feel like no time had passed at all.
People who hadn't seen each other in years were hugging like they'd been separated by war instead of adulthood. Old stories were being dragged out. Embarrassing high school photos were making their way around the tables. Every five minutes, someone discovered that somebody else had gotten taller, shorter, married, divorced, moved countries, changed careers, or somehow became even more annoying.
It was exactly the kind of night none of them had realized they were missing until they were all standing in the same room again.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, there was one person who wasn't there yet. Oikawa Tooru was supposed to arrive later.
He was flying in from Argentina, which had apparently been enough of an excuse for him to miss the beginning of the wedding despite having had months of warning. No one could say that they are surprised, though
.
"He's late," Hanamaki said, glancing toward the entrance.
"He's always late," Matsukawa replied.
"He's not always late."
"You just said that like you were defending him."
"I wasn't."
"You sounded like you were." Matsukawa smirked.
"I hate both of you."
Iwaizumi, sitting across from them, didn't say anything.
He just took a sip of his drink and looked toward the doors. The conversation moved on before anyone could make anything of it.
Someone from the next table called Hanamaki's name. He turned around, got distracted by whatever was being yelled at him, and within seconds Matsukawa was involved in it too.
Iwaizumi stayed where he was, not because he was waiting for Oikawa, but because he wanted to preserve his social battery for the reception.
At least, that's what he told himself.
There were enough people here that he hadn't seen in years. So the ‘preserving his social battery’ didn’t last forever. He had spent the last hour catching up with Daichi, arguing with Kuroo about something stupid, and getting dragged into a conversation with Ushijima that somehow turned into a discussion about training schedules.
Talking to his high school friends after all these years actually brought him some joy. The wedding was also fun with some people bringing them champagne and shots every other minute.
Tanaka had definitely gotten more handsome since he asked Kiyoko for her hand in marriage. Kiyoko looked happier than Iwaizumi had ever seen her. Everyone was laughing, eating, drinking, and making enough noise to fill the entire place.
He was enjoying it.
Then the doors opened really slowly.
It wasn’t dramatic, so no one stopped talking. No music cut out. No one announced anything.
But a few people noticed.
Hinata was the first to turn around.
"OIKAWA-SAN!"
The volume of the room somehow doubled.
Oikawa walked in with one hand still around the strap of his bag, his suit jacket slightly wrinkled from the flight, looking really good for someone who had crossed an ocean and still jetlagged.
"Oikawa!"
"Finally!"
"You're late!"
"Did you get lost?"
"I wasn't late," Oikawa called back immediately. "I was delayed."
"That's what late people say," Kuroo shouted.
Oikawa laughed.
Then people started getting up.
Hinata practically launched himself at him. Everybody knew they had gotten closer after those posts in Brazil. Bokuto came over yelling something about Argentina’s players, Kageyama gave him a nod that somehow felt and looked like a full conversation. Even people Oikawa hadn't seen in years were pulling him into hugs, asking questions, making jokes.
Iwaizumi sat there. He hadn’t seen Oikawa in years. They had nothing to talk about. So, he watched Oikawa laugh at something Hinata said, watched him shove Bokuto away when he got too close, watched him complain about his flight, watched him slip back into everyone's lives like he had never left.
Then Oikawa suddenly looked up, like he felt Iwaizumi’s eyes on himself.
Iwaizumi didn't know what he was supposed to do.
Wave?
Smile?
Get up?
Say hello?
Oikawa's expression changed for half a second. Something small and unreadable crossed his face.
Then he gave him a tiny smile.
Iwaizumi nodded instead of smiling back.
Oikawa turned back to the people surrounding him.
Hanamaki glanced at Iwaizumi.
"Don't," Iwaizumi said.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"I was literally having a tequila shot."
"You're annoying."
"You're very tense. When was the last time you had sex?” Hanamaki smirked at Iwaizumi getting mad.
"I'm not tense. And why are you so interested in my sex life?"
Matsukawa, without looking up from his phone, said, "Cause he is a cuck."
Hanamaki’s smile dropped.
“Oh like you don’t pay people-”
“Can you two please shut the fuck up?” Iwaizumi tried to ignore them.
Across the room, Oikawa was still laughing. And Iwaizumi couldn't stop looking.
Eventually, the attention shifted away from Oikawa. There were only so many questions one person could answer before someone else got bored and dragged him away into another conversation.
The music was louder, people started moving between tables, and the room slowly settled back into the chaos it had been before Oikawa arrived.
Iwaizumi tried to do the same as Oikawa. He wasn’t going to spend his entire time dealing with Hanamaki and Matsukawa.
He listened to Kunimi complain about food, and laughed when Kindaichi made fun of Kunimi. He talked to Aone when he stopped by their table, he even got dragged into whatever argument Kageyama and Tsukishima started.
Iwaizumi eventually noticed that the butlers were bringing less and less complimentary drinks now, since some people (Hinata, Goshiki, and Fukunaga) can’t handle their drinks. The absurd part is, the couple didn’t even say their vows yet. Iwaizumi felt his throat dry up, so he got up to get another drink from the bar. He was halfway when someone stepped into his path.
“Hey.”
It was Oikawa. He looked different up close, Iwaizumi thought. He wasn’t sure what he’d expect anyway. Maybe something about Argentina would’ve changed Oikawa more obviously. Maybe he’d come back looking like a completely different person.
But he didn’t.
He still had the same expression that always looked like he was about to say something annoying. His hair was a little longer than Iwaizumi remembered, and there were faint lines around his eyes that definitely weren't there when they were seventeen.
Oikawa was standing right in front of him, and Iwaizumi suddenly became painfully aware that he didn’t know this version of him.
“Hi.”
All those years without speaking and that was what he had.
Oikawa smiled awkwardly.
“The midnight blue suits you.”
“Thanks. You look like you’re the one getting married with that beige one though.”
Iwaizumi wished he could take that sentence back. He spoke without thinking like this wasn’t the first time they were having a conversation in nine years.
Oikawa blinked.
“...Are you saying I look good?”
“That’s not what I said.”
There was another pause. Oikawa glanced toward the bar.
“You getting a drink?”
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
Iwaizumi shrugged.
“Let’s go.”
They didn't say a word to each other on the way over. Once they found a spot away from the crowd, Oikawa ordered a Blue Lagoon while Iwaizumi settled for a beer. The silence that followed was awkward enough to make Iwaizumi suddenly very interested in the condensation gathering on the side of his bottle.
Oikawa sat next to him, staring at his drink like he was regretting getting a cocktail at his big age.
Then Iwaizumi, because apparently his brain had decided that now was the perfect time to remember how conversations worked, asked the first thing that came to mind.
“How’s Argentina?”
Oikawa looked at him. And he smiled properly this time.
“It’s good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. Really good actually.”
Iwaizumi nodded.
“Still playing as a setter?”
Oikawa gave him an offended look.
“Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi felt weird hearing that nickname.
“What?”
“You know I wouldn’t play in another position.”
There had been a time when Iwaizumi could’ve told you exactly what Oikawa was doing without even asking. What position he’d play, what he’d order, what he’d complain about, what kind of mood he was in just by the way he walked into a room.
He didn’t know anything about this Oikawa.
“I know.” Iwaizumi said.
“Then why did you ask me like I would suddenly be a wing spiker?”
“I was making conversation.”
“You’ve gotten worse at it.”
Iwaizumi snorted.
“Good to know you’re still annoying.”
“And good to know you are still mean.”
Oikawa laughed. It felt easy for a moment, like they were in high school again, walking home after practice and arguing about something neither of them would remember by tomorrow.
Sadly, they weren’t.
Oikawa started telling Iwaizumi about Argentina while he sipped his cocktail. About his team about the city, how different everything had been at first. He complained about the food, then immediately admitted he had gotten used to it. He talked about volleyball with the same enthusiasm he’d always had, only calmer now. A bit more measured.
Iwaizumi listened without saying anything.
And somewhere in the middle of Oikawa explaining something about his current team, Iwaizumi realized he had been listening to his voice for the first time in years.
“That’s nice, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said when Oikawa finally stopped talking.
“Yeah. It really is.”
Oikawa smiled before Hinata called Oikawa’s name from their table.
He turned.
“Looks like I’m being summoned.”
Iwaizumi nodded.
“Don’t worry about it.” He said while drinking his beer in one go.
Oikawa got off from the chair, then looked back.
“Hey, Iwa-chan?”
“Yeah?”
“It was good seeing you.”
Iwaizumi looked at him for a moment.
“Yeah.”
Oikawa smiled again, then disappeared back into the crowd.
Iwaizumi stood there for another second before joining the others. He told himself this was just casual, just a conversation that happened to take place between two people who used to know each other very well. Just two old friends catching up at a wedding, nothing more significant, nothing worth replaying in his head once the moment had passed.
It should’ve been easy to leave it there, to let it blend into the background noise of the night like everything else.
But of course, it didn’t stay there.
So naturally, he thought about it for the rest of the night anyway.
Not constantly though, that would’ve been pathetic. And thankfully, he didn’t have much time to think about it before everyone started quieting down.
Someone dimmed the lights, the music changed, and conversations slowly died out as everyone turned toward the entrance.
Kiyoko appeared at the end of the entrance, with a beautiful gown that had lace patterns. And for the first time, everyone was quiet.
She looked almost unreal standing there, one hand resting lightly against her bouquet as she slowly made her way toward Tanaka.
“Finally.” Hanamaki whispered.
Iwaizumi glanced at him.
“We’ve been here for three hours.”
“It’s their wedding.”
“I know, but I want to eat real food.”
Matsukawa nodded solemnly.
“Valid.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his mouth as he turned toward Oikawa. Kunimi and Shinji sat between them, but Oikawa had clearly overheard the conversation, a grin spreading across his face. Iwaizumi couldn't help but smile back when he saw it.
He turned back to the altar. Tanaka, who had spent the entire evening talking, yelling, laughing, and generally behaving like he was on cloud nine, had gone completely still.
His mouth fell open, and it didn’t take long for tears to run down his cheeks.
Suga immediately elbowed Nishinoya.
“Stop crying, it’s his day.”
“Yamamoto is crying too! I’m not the only one!” Nishinoya said with tears in his eyes.
“Well he is not sitting next to me is he?”
Kiyoko kept walking.
Iwaizumi glanced around the room.
Everyone looked different like this.
Daichi had his hands folded in front of him, watching quietly. Yamaguchi looked like he was trying very hard not to cry, Bokuto was crying very openly, Akaashi apparently accepted that this was inevitable. Yaku was smiling, being genuinely happy for the couple.
And Tanaka looked like his entire life had just led to this exact moment.
When Kiyoko finally reached him, Tanaka took her hand. He laughed under his breath, visibly trying to keep himself together.
“You’re beautiful.”
Kiyoko smiled.
“You look funny when you cry.”
“Kiyoko.”
They both laughed quietly.
The ceremony continued. Their vows weren’t extravagant.
Tanaka talked about how he first noticed Kiyoko in high school. About how he’d spend years thinking she was so far out of his league that he didn’t even have a chance. About how she had somehow become the person he wanted to come home too. His voice cracked halfway through, which made the crying people laugh a little.
Tanaka looked at Kiyoko and laughed through his own tears.
“I know I’m not always the easiest person to deal with. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you've made me.”
Iwiazumi found it weird that people he’d known as teenagers were sitting here as adults, dressing in suits and dresses, listening to Tanaka promise kiyoko forever. It was strange.
Kiyoko’s vows were shorter. She talked about Tanaka being loud, stubborn, impulsive, and even impossible.
“But you have always been sincere, and you’ve always made me feel loved.”
Tanaka’s face crumpled again.
“Don’t cry.” Kiyoko whispered.
“I’m just sweaty.”
The laughter filled the whole venue. Once they were done, they exchanged rings.
Then they kissed.
The whole room erupted in a second.
Atsumu shouted something incomprehensible, Kita was clapping so hard that it looked painful, Nishinoya was crying openly now. Kageyama looked mildly confused by everyone’s reaction, and Saeko yelled, “ABOUT TIME!!”
Tanaka looked like he might actually explode from happiness. Kiyoko just smiled at him.
And that was that. They were officially married now.
The formal part of the evening was finally over, and almost immediately, the room began to loosen again. People stood up, chairs scraped against the floor, drinks appeared in people’s hands once again, and everyone started arguing about where they were going afterward.
The reception carried on around them, getting louder as the night went on. Someone had convinced Tanaka to take another round of pictures. Nishinoya ended up doing a handstand on a chair. Semi was singing along to the songs like a drunk uncle.
Iwaizumi watched all of it from his table, drink in hand.
“You’ve been staring at the same spot since I went to get shots for our table.” Matsukawa said.
“I’m watching Shinji.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am.”
Hanamaki looked over.
“Shinji is over there.”
Iwaizumi followed his gaze. Shinji was, in fact, nowhere near the spot he’d been looking at.
“Oh fuck you guys.”
Hanamaki laughed.
“Thought so.”
Iwaizumi took a shot and decided not to dignify that with an answer.
A few minutes later, Oikawa passed their table. He was talking to Kageyama, of all people, and wherever they were discussing looked serious enough that Oikawa was actually listening instead of trying to avoid or annoy him.
Then Kageyama said something.
As Oikawa laughed, Iwaizumi looked away. He didn’t have a reason why, he just did.
“You’re being weird.” Matsukawa said.
“I’m just sitting here.”
“Yeah that’s the problem.”
“You’re literally doing the same.”
Before Matsukawa could respond, someone dropped into the empty chair beside Hanamaki.
“Oikawa!” Hanamaki said, like he hadn’t seen him twelve times tonight.
Oikawa rolled his eyes.
“Don’t say it like I'm a stray cat.”
“You did show up one and a half hours late.”
“Flight.”
“Excuse.”
Oikawa ignored him and looked at Iwaizumi.
“Mind if I steal these two?”
Iwaizumi blinked.
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t properly talked to them yet.”
Hanamaki immediately moved his chair.
“Please, Take me.”
“Is he drunk?” Oikawa raised one eyebrow.
“He just can’t behave.” Matsukawa responded.
Oikawa laughed and turned to them. And just like that, the three of them were talking like no time has passed.
Matsukawa asked about Argentina. Hanamaki wanted to know whether Oikawa had picked up any weird habits while living there.
Oikawa complained about both questions and then answered them anyway. He talked about his team. About traveling. About how strange it had been moving so far away from Japan. Hanamaki interrupted every thirty seconds. Matsukawa made fun of him every time he did.
Iwaizumi listened, again. He was hearing most of these things twice already.
Every once in a while Oikawa would look at him while talking, like he was checking whether he was still listening.
Iwaizumi always was. He was staring at Oikawa like he was going to disappear the second he looked away.
Eventually, Kiyoko came over to their table to thank everyone for coming.
Tanaka was behind her, already halfway through another emotional speech about how happy he was.
Everyone groaned.
"Don't cry again," Kiyoko told him.
"I'm not crying."
"You are."
“You’re not as tough as you thinkyou are, love.”
The table erupted.
Tanaka looked personally betrayed.
Iwaizumi laughed.
So did Oikawa.
For a second, their hands touched. Neither moved away immediately.
It wasn’t anything serious. Just an accident.
Still, when Oikawa finally stood up to go help Tanaka with something, Iwaizumi caught himself watching him leave.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Hanamaki noticed. But this time, he didn't say anything, he just took another sip of his drink.
The night went on.
And somehow, without either of them really trying, Iwaizumi and Oikawa kept ending up in the same places.
By the time the reception finally started winding down, they'd talked more in a few hours than they had in years. Not about anything important. Just enough to remember what it had felt like to have Oikawa around.
And maybe that was why, when everyone finally started making their way back toward the hotel, Iwaizumi found himself feeling strangely reluctant to let the night end.
And of course, the night didn’t really end when the wedding ended. It just relocated.
Someone had the brilliant idea of going down to the hotel club, which turned into everyone ordering food because apparently none of them knew how to get back to their place or the hotel they were staying at, without making it someone else’s problem.
So now half of the people who had spent the last five hours pretending to be respectable adults were sitting around in formalwear, eating fries and chicken, and drinking whatever they would convince the bartender to serve them.
Iwaizumi was there because leaving would’ve meant going upstairs and actually sleeping, and he wasn’t tired or drunk enough for that yet. Also, Matsukawa had said “Come on,” and Hanamaki had already gotten up before Iwaizumi could say no. So there he was.
The Seijoh table had somehow become less of a table and more of a pile of people. Hanamaki was stealing fries off Matsukawa’s plate, Matsukawa was letting him because he clearly didn’t have any self-preservation.
Across the bar, Hinata and Kuroo were arguing about something that sounded suspiciously like who would win in a race.
Tsukishima was sitting there looking like he regretted every decision that had led him to this exact moment, Kenma was glued to his phone, Osamu was of course, eating, and Atsumu had somehow gotten into an argument with Suna this time.
Iwaizumi watched the chaos for a while, nursing his drink. He’d been quieter since they’d come downstairs. He wasn’t upset, just thinking. Which was worse because every time his brain went quiet, it seemed to circle back to the same thing.
Oikawa laughed when he talked about Argentina.
He'd complained about the food.
He'd made that stupid face when Iwaizumi called him annoying.
He'd looked exactly the same and completely different at the same time.
Iwaizumi took another sip of his drink.
Hanamaki glanced at him.
"You've been quiet."
"I'm tired."
"You've been tired for twenty minutes."
"I've been tired for longer than that."
Matsukawa looked over his drink.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Stuff. I don’t know. I'm always thinking."
"You’re usually thinking about how much you hate us."
"Yeah."
Hanamaki snorted.
"Sure."
Iwaizumi looked down at the table.
There was a half-eaten basket of fries between them, somebody's abandoned napkin was stuck to the bottom of his glass, the music from the bar was low enough that he could hear everyone talking over it. It was stupidly comfortable.
Maybe that's why he said it.
Maybe he'd had enough to drink.
Maybe he was just tired enough that the thing he'd been refusing to acknowledge all night slipped out before he could stop it.
"I think I really miss Oikawa."
Hanamaki stopped chewing.
Matsukawa slowly lowered his glass.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Iwaizumi immediately regretted opening his mouth.
"Don't say that."
"I didn't say anything," Hanamaki said.
"Your face did."
"What did my face say?"
"That you're about to be annoying."
"I was actually going to say that's sad."
"That's worse."
Matsukawa looked at him for another second.
"You miss him?"
Iwaizumi shrugged.
"Yeah."
The word came out quieter this time. Iwaizumi looked across the room without really meaning to. Oikawa wasn't there.
Maybe he was. There were too many people moving around to tell.
"I don't know," Iwaizumi muttered. "It's weird."
"What is?"
"I haven't seen him in years."
Hanamaki leaned back in his chair.
"And?"
"And I thought it'd be... I don't know."
"Worse?"
"Maybe."
Matsukawa didn't say anything.
Iwaizumi rubbed his thumb against the side of his glass.
"I just forgot."
"Forgot what?"
Iwaizumi stared at the table.
"What it's like having him around."
He hadn't spent the night thinking about high school. He hadn't been thinking about what happened back then or what they could've been or any of that shit. He'd just been sitting there, listening to Oikawa talk about his life, and realizing how strange it was that there was an entire version of him Iwaizumi knew nothing about.
He'd missed his voice.
His laugh.
The way he talked too much when he got excited, the way he still somehow managed to piss Iwaizumi off in under thirty seconds.
All of it.
Iwaizumi exhaled through his nose.
"I think I just miss him more than I'd like to admit."
Iwaizumi took another shot. Neither Matsukawa nor Hanamaki made a joke this time.
Iwaizumi felt vulnerable, because now that he’d said it out loud, he couldn’t really take it back.
Hanamaki picked up another fry, turning it between his fingers before eating it.
"So what exactly do you miss?"
Iwaizumi looked at him.
"What?"
"You said you miss him."
"I know what I said."
"Then what do you miss?"
Iwaizumi opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
He hadn't actually thought that far. He looked down at his drink again.
"I don't know."
Hanamaki raised an eyebrow.
"That's a pretty broad statement."
"I know."
"Come on."
"Makki."
"What? I'm curious."
Matsukawa leaned back in his chair.
"Let him think, dumbass."
"I'm letting him think."
"You're staring at him."
"I'm waiting."
"That's worse."
Iwaizumi sighed.
"You two haven't changed."
"Neither have you," Hanamaki said.
Iwaizumi looked toward the other tables again.
He could see pieces of everyone from where he was sitting. Kuroo found a bartender to bore. Bokuto was gesturing so wildly that Akaashi had to move his drink out of the way. Suga was laughing at something Asahi had said.
The whole night had been like this. Maybe it was the nostalgia that had gotten to him. He'd spent the whole night remembering things without actually meaning to.
"I miss him being annoying," Iwaizumi said eventually.
Hanamaki smiled.
"That's specific."
"I miss him talking too much."
"Also specific."
"I miss him stealing my food."
Matsukawa nodded.
"That's definitely him."
Iwaizumi laughed quietly.
"I miss knowing when something was wrong with him."
That one made both of them go quiet.
Iwaizumi swallowed.
"I used to know everything."
Not everything, obviously. But enough.
He could tell when Oikawa was nervous from the way he messed with his hair, he knew when a smile was fake, he knew when Oikawa was actually angry and when he was just being dramatic. He knew what food Oikawa hated. What songs he'd pretend not to like. How long he could go without sleeping before becoming completely unbearable.
And now?
Iwaizumi didn't even know what time Oikawa usually woke up, he didn't know what his apartment looked like. Didn't know what his favorite place in Argentina was. Didn't know who he'd become when nobody from Japan was around to remember who he used to be.
"I don't even know him anymore," Iwaizumi said.
Hanamaki looked at him.
"You talked to him tonight."
"Yeah."
"So?"
"So I realized I don't know shit."
Matsukawa laughed under his breath.
"That's growing up."
"Shut up."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Iwaizumi rubbed a hand over his face. He was quiet for a moment.
Then Hanamaki said, almost casually,
"You know he asked about you earlier."
Iwaizumi's hand stopped.
"What?"
"Earlier. Before you came down here."
Hanamaki shrugged.
"He was sitting with us."
Iwaizumi stared at him.
"What did he ask?"
Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchanged a quick look. Just enough for Iwaizumi to notice.
"He asked if you hated him."
Iwaizumi blinked.
For a second, he genuinely thought he'd misheard.
"What?"
"Yeah."
Hanamaki took another sip of his drink.
"Apparently he thought you didn't want to talk to him."
Iwaizumi looked away.
The club suddenly felt much quieter than it had a minute ago. He thought about the way Oikawa had looked at him earlier. The awkward smile, the way he'd said It was good seeing you, the way Iwaizumi had simply said Yeah and let him walk away.
He'd thought that was enough. Apparently it hadn't been.
"Why would he think I hate him?"
Hanamaki shrugged.
"Maybe because you haven't talked in years."
Iwaizumi frowned.
"He hasn't talked to me either."
"Yeah."
There was a pause.
Matsukawa looked between them.
"Maybe you both just suck at talking."
Iwaizumi stared at him.
Hanamaki nodded slowly.
"That's actually the most accurate thing you've said all night."
"Fuck both of you."
But Iwaizumi was smiling..
And for the first time that night, the thought that had been sitting somewhere in the back of his mind finally came to the front.
Maybe Oikawa hadn't been indifferent. Maybe neither of them had.
Maybe they'd just gotten really, really good at staying silent.
Neither Hanamaki nor Matsukawa said anything after that. They didn’t really had to.
Iwaizumi sat there with his drink between his hands, staring at nothing in particular.
He should've felt relieved. Instead, he felt strangely unsettled. Because if Oikawa had really spent the night thinking Iwaizumi didn't want to talk to him, then what the hell had the last few hours even been?
Iwaizumi had assumed Oikawa was being polite. Oikawa had probably assumed Iwaizumi was being polite.
And somehow they had both walked away from the exact same conversation thinking completely different things.
"That's fucking stupid," Iwaizumi muttered and took another shot that was on their table.
Hanamaki looked at him.
“That’s your fifth shot.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Matsukawa stopped Iwaizumi as he was about to grab another shot glass.
“You’re drunk, Iwa.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“You weren’t even keeping count of your shots and you had 3 drinks by now.”
“So?”
“Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t that drunk.
Hanamaki laughed.
“You’re definitely drunk.”
Iwaizumi decided to ignore them. He could still walk, probably, and he could still think. The problem was that thinking had become significantly easier now that his brain wasn’t bothering with the usual filters.
And apparently his brain had decided that the appropriate thing to do with this newfound freedom was think about Oikawa.
“He is still annoying.” Iwaizumi muttered.
Matsukawa looked at him.
"What is?"
"Nothing."
"You're doing the thinking thing again."
"I'm going to bed."
"You said that twenty minutes ago."
"I mean it this time."
He pushed his chair back.
Matsukawa looked up.
"Sure."
Iwaizumi gave him a suspicious look.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you know something."
"I don't."
Hanamaki snorted.
"The exit is the other way, Iwa."
Iwaizumi stopped. He looked toward the bar, then the exit.
“Shit.”
Hanamaki and Matsukawa were laughing so hard that everyone was looking at them.
"You're both annoying." Iwaizumi scoffed.
"Goodnight, Iwaizumi."
"Fuck you."
He walked away before either of them could say anything else.
The elevator was only a few steps from the bar.
Iwaizumi pressed the button and stared at the numbers above the doors.
He could go upstairs. Take a shower. Get into bed. Wake up tomorrow. The wedding would be over. Everyone would go back to their normal lives. Oikawa would fly back to Argentina.
And that would be it.
The elevator doors opened, Iwaizumi stepped inside.
Then stopped.
His thumb hovered over the button for his floor.
He thought about Oikawa asking if he hated him.
He thought about that stupid conversation about Argentina.
He thought about Oikawa saying it was good seeing him.
And suddenly the idea of just going to bed felt wrong.
He stepped back out of the elevator.
"Fuck."
He stood there for a second, hands on his hips.
He wasn't a teenager anymore. He wasn't obligated to wait for Oikawa to make the first move. And Oikawa wasn't obligated to wait for him either.
Which, apparently, was how they'd ended up here in the first place.
Iwaizumi turned around.
He didn't know where Oikawa was. The hotel was huge. There were people everywhere. He could've been upstairs, still at the bar, outside, or already asleep.
For all Iwaizumi knew, he could've left the hotel entirely.
Still, his feet carried him back toward the bar.
He wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. He just wanted to talk. Actually talk.
For once.
And if Oikawa didn't want that, then at least Iwaizumi would know.
That was better than spending another ten years guessing.
The bar was still crowded. Not as crowded as before, but enough that Iwaizumi had to look around for a minute before he spotted him.
Oikawa was sitting at the end of one of the couches with Akaashi and a couple of the others, listening to some story that clearly wasn't very interesting because he kept checking his phone.
Iwaizumi stopped a few feet away.
"Oikawa."
Oikawa looked up.
His expression changed immediately.
"Iwa-chan?"
Iwaizumi walked over.
"You busy?"
Akaashi looked between them.
"I'll take that as my cue."
He got up before either of them could say anything, dragging the others with him.
Oikawa watched them leave.
Then he looked back at Iwaizumi.
"What's up?"
Iwaizumi stared at him.
He'd had this whole thing in his head on the way down.
Now that Oikawa was actually looking at him, they were all gone.
"I wanted to talk."
Oikawa blinked once.
“Please?” Iwaizumi added.
"Okay."
Iwaizumi sat down beside him.
There was a little too much space between them. He hated that.
"I think you're avoiding me."
Oikawa scoffed.
"I'm not avoiding you."
"You are."
"I've talked to you tonight."
"Yeah."
Iwaizumi frowned.
"That's not talking."
Oikawa gave him a look.
"You asked how Argentina was."
"I know."
"And then we talked."
"For like five minutes."
"You didn't exactly give me much to work with."
Iwaizumi looked down at his hands.
"Because I didn't know what to say."
Oikawa looked away.
"Well. Neither did I."
Iwaizumi nodded.
"Yeah."
He could hear the music from the other side of the bar. Lev laughed too loudly. A glass hit the table. Somewhere behind them, Tendou yelled something that made absolutely no sense.
Iwaizumi swallowed his pride.
"I missed you."
Oikawa scoffed.
"You're drunk."
"I know."
"Very drunk."
"I know."
"So you don't have to say things just because you're drunk."
"I'm not saying it because I'm drunk."
Oikawa looked at him.
Iwaizumi stared back.
"I missed you."
Oikawa's expression faltered.
"Iwa-chan..."
"I fucking missed you."
"I heard you."
"No, you didn't."
"I did."
"No."
Iwaizumi leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"I missed you."
Oikawa looked down.
"You're going to regret this tomorrow."
"Okay."
"You're definitely going to regret this tomorrow."
"Maybe I will."
"Then stop."
Iwaizumi shook his head.
"No."
Oikawa sighed.
"Iwaizumi."
"I really missed you, Oikawa."
"You're unbelievable."
"I missed you."
Oikawa rubbed a hand over his face.
"Okay."
"I missed you."
"Okay."
"I really fucking missed you."
The words came out rougher this time.
Oikawa went quiet.
Iwaizumi stared at the floor.
"I don't even know what the fuck you've been doing all these years."
Oikawa's face changed.
"I know."
"I don't know what your apartment looks like. I don't know what you do when you're not playing volleyball. I don't know what food you eat. I don't know who your friends are."
He laughed once, but there was nothing funny about it.
"I don't know anything."
Oikawa looked at him.
"But I remember everything."
Iwaizumi's eyes burned.
He blamed the alcohol.
"You used to call me whenever you couldn't sleep."
Oikawa's mouth twitched.
"You complained every time."
"Yeah."
"You still answered."
Iwaizumi nodded.
"Yeah."
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then Oikawa said quietly,
"I thought you didn't want to hear from me."
Iwaizumi looked at him like he'd said something insane.
"Why?"
"You never called."
"Neither did you."
"I thought you were done with me."
"I thought you were done with me."
Oikawa laughed under his breath.
It was a miserable little laugh.
"God."
"Yeah."
"We're idiots."
"Yeah."
Iwaizumi leaned back into the couch.
His head was spinning now.
He closed his eyes for a second.
Then, very quietly:
"I missed you."
Oikawa looked at him.
This time, he didn't scoff.
"I know."
Iwaizumi opened his eyes.
"I really did."
"I know."
"I don't want to lose you again."
Oikawa went completely still.
Iwaizumi looked exhausted now.
His words were getting slower, his head dropping slightly every few seconds before he forced himself awake again.
Oikawa stared at him.
"Okay," he said softly.
Iwaizumi nodded.
"Okay."
A minute passed.
Then Oikawa looked at him properly.
"How much did you drink?"
Iwaizumi frowned.
"Not that much."
"How much?"
"Four."
Oikawa stared.
"Four shots or drinks?"
"Maybe five. Both"
"You can barely sit upright."
"I'm sitting."
"You're leaning on me."
Iwaizumi looked down.
He was, in fact, leaning against Oikawa's shoulder.
He didn't move.
Oikawa sighed.
"Come on."
"I don’t want to."
"Let’s get you to your room."
"I can walk."
"Sure you can."
"I can."
"Great."
Oikawa stood and held out a hand.
Iwaizumi stared at it for a second before taking it.
The walk upstairs was humiliating. Mostly because Iwaizumi kept insisting he was perfectly fine while walking slightly to the left of where he was supposed to be. Oikawa had to grab his arm twice.
"I'm fine."
"You're walking into walls."
"I wasn't."
"You literally just did."
"No I didn’t."
"Right."
By the time they reached Iwaizumi's room, Oikawa was laughing.
Iwaizumi glared at him while trying to get his key into the lock.
"Stop laughing."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"Open the door."
Iwaizumi finally managed it.
Inside, the room was dark and quiet.
He kicked his shoes off and immediately nearly tripped over one.
Oikawa caught him.
"Okay. Bed."
"I can take my jacket off."
"Great."
Iwaizumi grabbed the bottom of his jacket and wrestled with it for several seconds.
Oikawa watched.
Then sighed.
"Give me that."
"I can do it."
"You've been fighting your jacket for thirty seconds."
"It's complicated."
"It's a jacket."
"Shut up."
Oikawa helped him out of it. Then his tie, then the stupid dress shirt that Iwaizumi had somehow managed to button wrong.
Oikawa laughed when he noticed.
"Don't."
"You buttoned this wrong."
"I was drunk."
"You were drunk when you put it on?"
"Shut up."
Oikawa fixed it anyway.
Iwaizumi sat on the edge of the bed, watching him.
Neither of them said anything. It was strange.
Oikawa was standing in his hotel room. Helping him get out of a suit.
Like they were still seventeen. Like there hadn't been years between then and now.
Oikawa stepped back.
"There."
Iwaizumi looked at him.
"Thanks."
"Try not to die of alcohol poisoning."
"I won't."
"Good."
Oikawa turned toward the door.
His hand was already on the handle when Iwaizumi spoke.
"Oikawa."
He stopped.
Iwaizumi looked at him.
His eyes were half closed.
"Stay."
Oikawa didn't move.
Iwaizumi swallowed.
"Just..."
He looked down.
"I don’t want you to leave again."
Oikawa stared at him for a long moment.
Then he slowly let go of the door.
"Okay."
He came back toward the bed.
Iwaizumi shifted further onto the bed, his back against the headboard.
Oikawa stood there for a second like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now.
"Are you actually staying?" Iwaizumi asked.
"You told me to."
"I know."
"Then yes."
Oikawa took off his jacket and put it over the chair before sitting on the other side of the bed.
There was still a ridiculous amount of space between them.
Iwaizumi stared at it.
Then at Oikawa.
Then back at the space.
"You can come closer."
Oikawa blinked.
"You're drunk."
"I know."
"That's exactly why I'm not coming closer."
Iwaizumi frowned.
"I didn't mean anything."
"I know."
"Then come here."
Oikawa hesitated before moving a little closer.
Not enough.
Iwaizumi grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him the rest of the way over.
Oikawa laughed quietly.
"Subtle."
"Shut up."
They settled against the headboard, shoulders almost touching.
For a while, neither said anything. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. That was weird. They had spent years not speaking and somehow silence with Oikawa still felt familiar.
Iwaizumi looked at the ceiling.
"What did you do after high school?"
Oikawa turned his head.
"What?"
"After high school."
"You know what I did."
"I know the big stuff."
"What does that mean?"
"I know you went to Argentina."
"Yeah."
"I know you play volleyball."
"Obviously."
"I know you became annoyingly famous."
Oikawa smiled.
"Jealous?"
"Not even a little."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
Oikawa laughed.
Then he went quiet.
"I moved around a lot."
Iwaizumi turned toward him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It was weird at first. I didn't know anyone. My Spanish was terrible."
"Your Spanish is still terrible."
"Puta Madre."
Iwaizumi smiled.
"There you go."
Oikawa looked at him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You were smiling."
"So?"
"I haven't seen you smile like that in a while."
Iwaizumi's smile faded slightly.
"Yeah."
Oikawa looked down.
"I missed that."
The room went quiet again.
Iwaizumi swallowed.
"What else?"
Oikawa looked at him.
"What?"
"What did I miss?"
Oikawa didn't answer immediately.
Then he started talking.
Not about volleyball. About the stupid apartment he'd had when he first moved. About the neighbor who complained whenever he practiced serves against the wall. About getting lost on his way to practice. About learning which places sold food he actually liked.
Iwaizumi listened to every word.
Sometimes he laughed, sometimes he asked questions.
Sometimes he just stared at Oikawa like he was trying to memorize him before he left for Argentina.
Then Oikawa asked about Japan.
Iwaizumi told him about university.
About work, about people he'd kept in touch with and people he'd lost touch with. About how weird it had been watching everyone grow up.
"I thought about calling you."
Oikawa said it so quietly Iwaizumi almost missed it.
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you?"
Oikawa laughed without humor.
"I don't know."
"That's bullshit."
"I was scared."
Iwaizumi turned toward him.
"Of what?"
Oikawa picked at a loose thread on the blanket.
"That you'd answer."
Iwaizumi stared.
"What?"
"If you didn't answer, I could tell myself you were busy. Or you changed your number. Or whatever."
He swallowed.
"But if you answered..."
He didn't finish.
Iwaizumi understood anyway.
"You would've had to talk to me."
"Yeah."
"That's what you were scared of?"
"I didn't know what you'd say."
Iwaizumi looked down.
"I would've said hi."
Oikawa laughed.
"That's not very reassuring."
"I would've said more."
"Like what?"
Iwaizumi thought about it.
"I don't know."
"Exactly."
"No."
Iwaizumi turned toward him again.
"I would've wanted to know how you were."
Oikawa went still.
"I would've wanted to know if you were okay."
Iwaizumi’s voice was quieter now.
"I would've wanted to know if you were happy."
Oikawa looked at him.
"I was."
"Good."
"But I wanted you to know."
Iwaizumi looked away.
"You could've told me."
"You could've asked."
"I know."
"Me too."
Iwaizumi let out a tired laugh.
"We're so fucking stupid."
"Yeah."
They both smiled.
Then Iwaizumi's expression softened.
"Did you miss me?"
Oikawa didn't answer.
Iwaizumi waited.
"Oikawa."
"Yeah."
The answer was barely audible.
"Yeah, I did."
Iwaizumi's chest tightened.
"How much?"
Oikawa looked at him.
"Don't."
"Why?"
"Because you're drunk."
"I'll remember."
"You won't."
"I will."
"You'll wake up tomorrow and pretend none of this happened."
Iwaizumi shook his head.
"I won't."
Oikawa studied his face.
“Even if I do, I’ll see you laying next to me and remember.” Iwaizumi added.
Oikawa quietly said:
"I missed you all the time."
Iwaizumi stopped breathing for a second.
Oikawa looked back at the ceiling.
"Not every second. I'm not insane."
"Sure you’re not."
"You’re mean, Iwa-chan."
Iwaizumi smiled.
Oikawa continued.
"But there were things I'd want to tell you."
"Like what?"
"Stupid things."
"Tell me now."
Oikawa laughed softly.
"I'd see something and think, Iwa-chan would hate this. Or I'd eat something you used to like and think you would've complained about it."
"You would've stolen it anyway."
"Obviously."
"And?"
"And sometimes I'd have a bad day and think..."
He stopped.
Iwaizumi waited.
"Think what?"
Oikawa looked at him.
"I wish I could call him."
Neither of them spoke. Iwaizumi slowly reached over and rested his hand on the blanket between them. Not touching him, just wanted to be closer.
"I wish you'd called."
Oikawa looked at his hand.
Then at him.
"Me too."
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
Iwaizumi's eyes were beginning to droop. He shifted lower against the pillows.
Oikawa watched him.
"You should sleep."
"I don't want to."
"You can barely keep your eyes open."
"Stay."
"I said I would."
"No."
Iwaizumi's fingers caught lightly around Oikawa's sleeve again.
"Stay till the morning."
Oikawa looked at him for a long moment.
Then he moved closer.
"Okay."
Iwaizumi finally let his eyes close.
A few seconds passed.
Then, barely awake:
"Oikawa?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're here. I don’t want to lose you again, Oikawa."
Oikawa's expression softened.
"Me too."
And for the first time in years, Iwaizumi fell asleep with Oikawa beside him.
Morning came with the kind of headache that made Iwaizumi briefly consider becoming a monk.
He opened his eyes. Closed them again.
His mouth tasted like he'd been licking the floor of the hotel bar, his head was pounding behind his eyes, and there was something warm pressed against his side.
Iwaizumi frowned.
He slowly opened one eye.
Oikawa.
For a second, his brain simply refused to process it.
Oikawa was asleep beside him, still wearing the same shirt from last night, his hair a complete disaster and his face half buried in the pillow.
Iwaizumi stared. Then the memories started coming back.
The wedding. Oikawa arriving late. Talking about Argentina. The bar. Matsukawa and Hanamaki.
I think I really miss Oikawa.
“Oh, fuck.”
Iwaizumi squeezed his eyes shut.
Then came the rest.
The hotel hallway. Oikawa helping him into his room. The bed. Talking. Everything they'd said. Everything Iwaizumi had said.
He opened his eyes again. Oikawa was still asleep.
Thank God.
Iwaizumi stared at the ceiling.
He remembered telling him he missed him repeatedly. He remembered asking if Oikawa had missed him. He remembered Oikawa saying he had. He remembered saying he didn't want to lose him again.
And then, because apparently humiliation wasn't complete without a final blow, he asked oikawa to spend the night in his room.
Iwaizumi covered his face with both hands.
"Fuck me."
Beside him, Oikawa stirred.
"What?"
Iwaizumi froze.
Oikawa slowly opened his eyes. They stared at each other.
Then Oikawa's mouth twitched.
"Morning, Iwa-chan."
Iwaizumi groaned and pulled the blanket over his face.
"No."
Oikawa laughed.
"Oh, this is good."
"Don't."
"You remember?"
"I remember enough."
"Enough?"
"Unfortunately."
Oikawa rolled onto his back, grinning at the ceiling.
"You were very emotional."
"I know."
"You told me you missed me about fourteen times."
"Ugh."
"You also told me you didn't want to lose me again."
Iwaizumi pulled the blanket down just enough to glare at him.
"Did I?"
"Yeah."
A pause.
"Did I mean it?"
Oikawa's smile disappeared.
"Yeah."
Iwaizumi looked at him.
"I thought so."
And somehow, waking up hungover in a hotel room with Oikawa beside him wasn't nearly as terrifying as it should have been. It was actually kind of nice.
Iwaizumi stared at him.
Oikawa didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at him, the stupid smile slowly disappearing from his face.
The room was quiet again.
Morning light was coming through the curtains, thin and way too bright for Iwaizumi's current state. He could hear the faint noise of people moving around in the hallway, doors opening and closing, someone laughing somewhere downstairs.
It was a regular morning. Except Oikawa was sitting beside him, and they had spent the entire night talking.
Iwaizumi rubbed a hand over his face.
"So..."
"So?"
"What happens now?"
Oikawa blinked.
"Now?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know."
Iwaizumi looked at him.
Oikawa shrugged.
"We haven't talked in years, Iwa-chan. I don't think there's exactly a rulebook for this."
"That's annoying."
"You've always hated complicated things."
"I don't hate complicated things."
"You hate talking about complicated things."
"That's different."
"Not really."
Iwaizumi sighed.
Then he looked down at the blanket between them.
"I don't want this to be a wedding thing."
Oikawa's expression softened.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want us to talk all night and then leave and go back to not talking."
Oikawa was quiet.
"I don't either."
Iwaizumi nodded.
"Okay."
"Okay."
Oikawa smiled a little.
"So I guess you need my number."
Iwaizumi looked at him.
"I already have your number."
"No, you have my old number."
"I know."
"And you still have it?"
"...Yes."
Oikawa laughed quietly.
"You're weird."
"You're one to talk."
Oikawa reached for his phone.
"Give me yours."
Iwaizumi unlocked his phone and handed it over.
Oikawa typed his number in, then called himself.
His own phone started ringing somewhere underneath the pile of clothes he'd thrown onto the chair last night.
He looked at the screen.
Then back at Iwaizumi.
"There."
Iwaizumi took his phone back.
He stared at Oikawa's name on the screen for a second. Oikawa leaned back against the headboard.
"So."
"So?"
"What are you doing today?"
Iwaizumi frowned.
"Today?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know."
"You don't have plans?"
"My first plan is to get rid of this hangover."
Oikawa smiled.
"Good."
Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes.
"Why?"
"Let’s go get breakfast."
Iwaizumi stared at him.
"You want breakfast?"
"I’m hungry, and since you’re complaining about your head hurting, eating something will help."
"I didn't complain."
"You said your eyes were pounding in your skull."
"Because I'm hungover."
"Exactly. So we should eat something."
Iwaizumi looked at him for a second.
Then he smiled.
"Fine."
Oikawa grinned.
"Great."
And it was such a small thing.
But for two people who had spent years assuming they would never talk again, it felt like a pretty good place to start.
–
Three months later, talking to Oikawa had somehow become normal again. Not completely normal. Iwaizumi still had moments where he'd look at his phone and remember that, three months ago, he hadn't even known what Oikawa's number was anymore.
Now there was a whole conversation sitting there.
At first, it was small, like a picture of whatever Oikawa was eating, a photo of the gym after practice, a random complaint about one of his teammates.
Iwaizumi sending him a picture of Bokuto doing something stupid at work with absolutely no context because he knew Oikawa would laugh anyway.
Then it turned into actual conversations.They started texting almost every day.
Sometimes it was only a few messages before one of them got busy. Sometimes they'd start talking at eleven at night and somehow still be texting two hours later.
Oikawa sent pictures from Argentina. The city, restaurants, his team, the view from his apartment.
Iwaizumi sent pictures from Japan. His food, his apartment, the occasional picture of Matsukawa or Hanamaki doing something embarrassing, usually followed by look what your former teammates are doing.
Oikawa always responded.
Usually with something like:
“Glad you’re having fun!”
Or:
“They look stupid.”
Or, more often:
“Iwa-chan you're literally the one taking the picture.”
They started FaceTiming too. The first time Oikawa called, Iwaizumi stared at his phone for almost ten seconds before answering.
"Why are you calling me?"
"Because I wanted to see you."
"You could've texted."
"I can text you whenever I want. I wanted to see your face."
"That's creepy."
"You answered."
"...Right."
Oikawa had laughed.
And then they'd talked for almost two hours. After that, it just became a thing.
Sometimes they'd call while Iwaizumi was making dinner, sometimes Oikawa would call after practice, still sweaty and complaining about his coach, sometimes one of them would fall asleep while they were on the phone.
Neither of them really talked about the fact that this was the exact opposite of what they'd been doing for the past several years.
They just kept doing it.
Iwaizumi had gotten used to waking up to Oikawa's messages. He'd gotten used to sending him things without thinking twice. He'd gotten used to hearing about his day.
And somewhere along the way, Oikawa stopped feeling like someone he'd found again at a wedding. He just felt like Oikawa.
The thought would've embarrassed him three months ago. Now, he mostly just accepted it.
Which was probably why, on a completely ordinary afternoon, Iwaizumi was sitting at a café when his phone buzzed.
He glanced down.
Oikawa: Iwa-chan.
Another message came through.
Oikawa: Don't freak out.
Iwaizumi immediately frowned.
Iwaizumi: What did you do?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then:
Oikawa: I'm in Japan.
Iwaizumi stared at the screen.
Another message.
Oikawa: Surprise ♡
Iwaizumi sat up.
Iwaizumi: You didn't tell me.
The reply came almost instantly.
Oikawa: I wanted it to be a surprise.
Iwaizumi stared at the heart at the end of the message.
Then typed:
Iwaizumi: Fuck off.
Three dots appeared.
Oikawa: Missed you too!