Archive of Our Own ^beta

It starts simply enough. Iwaizumi finds an envelope in his mailbox with his name on it but no address. The card inside is one for a child’s tenth birthday. It’s weird, for sure, but that’s not what makes the hair on his neck raise. Inside are ten different photos of him, each taken at some point during the past week. Most while he thought he was alone.

What the fuck.

Iwaizumi looks at the card itself. It has the standard “Happy 10th Birthday!!” on it, but underneath, in neat handwriting: Let’s play a game, Iwa-chan.

He texts Hanamaki about it, but never thinks to take a picture of the set of photos he received. He’s not sure why, especially when Hanamaki responds with only doubt. He could have sent a picture of the photos to him as proof. But he doesn’t want to look at them. He just shoves them back in the envelope and walks directly to the police station.

It’s crowded when he gets there and he accidentally bumps into a number of different people before he’s finally able to report the card and the pictures.

Only. They’re not there. He knows he put them into his pocket. And they’re not there anymore.

What the fuck.

“Excuse me,” a tall man with light brown hair says, voice full of false politeness, “if you don’t have anything to report, could you please move aside so that those of us with real problems can report them?”

Iwaizumi looks down at his pocket once more. His empty pocket. He nods and leaves the police station in a bit of a haze.

The whole thing feels so strange and surreal that he honestly nearly forgets about it. He carries on with his normal life. Hanamaki never brings up the fact that Iwaizumi texted him in a semi panic and he never brings it up either. He doesn’t have any proof that it happened. The pictures are gone. Completely. Maybe it was just a weird fever dream.

Nine comes about a month before his birthday. It’s nothing quite so creepy as the last one. Or, it wouldn’t be. If he hadn’t found it in his house. This time, the card says sorry on the outside. It’s folded horizontally. Inside are nine gift cards to his favorite restaurant. On the top half is the number nine. The bottom half reads:

It seems you didn’t appreciate my last gift, Iwa-chan! Please, enjoy this one more.

Iwaizumi looks down at the gift cards and resolutely promises himself that he’ll never go back to that restaurant, even if he loves the food. The gift cards all end up in the trash and he eats his dinner in his room on his bed with the shades pulled shut tightly.

It’s Matsukawa that he texts this time, asking if this is some sort of prank. All he receives in response is a message claiming that Matsukawa is innocent and has no idea what he’s talking about.

His phone buzzes once more and he picks it up, expecting another text from Matsukawa. It’s not.

[Restricted Number]

Received: Did you enjoy your dinner?

Sent: Who is this?

Received: It doesn’t matter, Iwa-chan.
Received: I’m disappointed that you didn’t make use of my gift, though
Received: I got it them just for you

Iwaizumi puts his phone down and draws his knees up to his chest. He wants to go to the police again, but it was too late at night and he wasn’t sure he would be able to walk alone.

He tosses and turns a lot that night, but finally he is able to sleep. In the morning, he unlocks his phone, certain that he will finally have proof that there is someone fucking with him.

The messages are gone. He scrolls through his phone, hoping to find some sort of evidence that they were there.

Nothing.

Maybe… Maybe it was just a weird dream.

But he still has the texts to Matsukawa. Just nothing to or from the restricted number.

What the fuck.

He’s tired when he goes to work that day and he knows it shows, but Matsukawa never mentions it. Hanamaki doesn’t say anything. And Iwaizumi is just the tiniest bit nervous about bringing it up himself. He doesn’t have any physical proof of the stalker. He should. With how much the stalker has given him.

It’s like the prank with the dollar bill hooked on a fishing line. There for him to grab until he tries to grab it.

On his birthday, he comes home after a relatively short night of drinking. He would’ve been willing to stay out later, but Hanamaki and Matsukawa had insisted he leave early.

Iwaizumi is just drunk enough to not question the fact that his front door is unlocked when he gets home. He heads to the kitchen, mostly just for a glass of water before he goes to sleep. He doesn’t get all the way to the sink though, instead he is forced to stop at his table.

Without even looking for a card, he knows this one is eight. Eight little plates of agedashi tofu sit in front of him. He walks forward and sits on the chair pulled out for him, picking up the card. Sure enough, there’s an eight on the front of the card. He opens it.

I must admit, Iwa-chan, I didn’t appreciate the fact that you threw my last gift away! I just wanted you to enjoy the food you love. Please enjoy this meal. If you refuse again, you won’t like my next gift.

Iwaizumi sets the card down. He should probably be careful about this, but he really didn’t want to learn what his stalker meant about the next gift. The small portion sizes help him finish off each plate, even if his head feels fuzzy at the end. He tries to stand, but a gentle hand pushes him back into his chair.

“Rest for a while, Iwa-chan. You’re in my hands, now. I’ll take care of you.”

He feels a hand in his hair, pushing his head side to side and he feels like he should be worried about something, but it’s so much better to not think about it. To not think about anything. So he lets himself drift. At some point maybe his eyes close. There’s some sort of soft pressure on his neck, his lips. He gets cold and reaches out for the warmth nearby.

Iwaizumi wakes up in his bed alone. He can’t remember why that should be significant. It shouldn’t. He lives alone. He opens his eyes to see a glass of water sitting on his nightstand.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa must have known he’d need it for the pounding headache he’s got this morning. He drinks the whole thing before glancing at his nightstand once more. There’s a note left on it.

Last night was fun, Iwa-chan. Let’s do that again sometime.

He blinks and rubs his eyes before reading it again. Then once more. Then one last time.

What the fuck happened last night?

He unlocks his phone and recoils at the picture of himself set as the background. His shirt is off and he’s… honestly he’s not sure he’s even wearing anything in the picture. As soon as he opens up the photo gallery on his phone, he gets a text.

[Restricted]

Received: Good morning Iwa-chan!
Received: I hope you slept well
Received: Make sure to drink lots of water today, you’ll need it after last night
Received: And Iwa-chan
Received: Don’t go to the police about this, okay?
Received: Wouldn’t want all those pictures of you going viral now would we
Received: I’d prefer that your body be for my eyes only

Iwaizumi looks through the pictures in horror, each one getting more and more lewd. He’d lose his job if these were put out anywhere. He set his phone background to the default, honestly nervous about what might happen if he deletes the pictures.

He calls a locksmith to get his locks changed that day.

There’s always been some sort of distance in time between the ‘gifts’ he receives from his stalker, always at least a month. Not this time. There is no card this time, either. Just a box with a hand painted seven on top.

Iwaizumi opens the box to find seven little heart shaped locks. The day after he had gotten all of his locks changed. He closes the box and stares at it for a while. Obviously he can’t take this to the police. Not anymore. He opens the box once more and looks for some sort of note, but there isn’t any.

The box ends up under his clothes in his dresser. He wants to throw them out like the gift cards, but he’s afraid that his stalker might get mad. So he keeps them hidden away. As far as he can tell, that was the right decision. He doesn’t receive anything more from the stalker, not even a text, for nearly a month.

“Excuse me,” someone calls out behind him and Iwaizumi honestly would have ignored them had their hand not landed on his shoulder. He turns around to see a man just barely taller than himself standing and holding a small box of chocolates. “You’re Iwaizumi, right?” He nods and the stranger hands him the box. He looks almost familiar. “Someone told me to give this to you. He said not to open it until you get home.”

Iwaizumi stares down at the box nervously. He has a feeling that he knows who it’s from. He still waits until he gets home to open it. A bright red six is on the lid and inside is a note on top of six chocolates.

I finally got to talk to you again in person! I’m thrilled just thinking about it while I write this note, Iwa-chan. I’m proud of how you handled the last gift, so here’s something nice for you. As long as you’re good, my gifts will be nice. P. S. I’ll text you when you’re allowed to eat one of these

He places the note back into the box and gently closes it before setting it down on the table. He’s tempted, just a little bit, to try one now. Rationally, he knows it’s a bad idea to eat one no matter what. He has no idea what could possibly be in them.

But then again. His stalker obviously doesn’t want to kill him. Whoever it is could have done it already if that is the end goal. He opens the box again, looking at the note once more. Whoever it is. He had, apparently, spoken to his stalker earlier that day. Was it the man who gave him the box?

Iwaizumi places the note to the side. Does it matter? He can’t decide between being terrified or being resigned.

He eats one of the chocolates before he can think twice about it.

Nothing happens immediately. There’s no razor blades or anything inside. Actually, it’s really good. He’s a little tempted to eat a second now. He sets the box back down onto his table and starts to head upstairs. He gets nearly halfway up before feeling light headed and he can’t make it the whole way before he feels like he’s falling.

Iwaizumi wakes up with a groan. He’s in his bed, which is weird because he doesn’t remember going to sleep. When he brings a hand up to his head, he’s surprised to find bandages there. He’s glad it’s a Saturday, otherwise he would have had to come up with an excuse for being late to work. He could only imagine, ‘Hey, I know I’m late, but I ate one of the chocolates my stalker gave me and then I just woke up in my bed. Please don’t call the police, though, I would rather be fired. I don’t know what he’d do if you called the police.’

Like that would go over well.

He knows that he should get up, but his head hurts, so he goes back to sleep instead. The second time he wakes up, he feels much better. He checks his phone and sees a surprising amount of texts from while he was asleep. Most of them are from Hanamaki and Matsukawa inviting him to some sort of karaoke night. Apparently he’s been “too tense” recently. No shit. The rest are from his stalker, but he doesn’t bother to look at them. Instead he agrees to go to the karaoke night and gets out of bed.

Iwaizumi winces as he takes the bandages off his head. Sometime last night he must have hit his head or something, judging by the mark he can see in the mirror. There’s almost a frightening amount of dried blood on the bandages, even if the cut is small. He gently washes it off, careful not to aggravate it or reopen it.

He doesn’t do much for the rest of the day, mostly just rests and tries not to do anything too strenuous because he’s still feeling a little dizzy after whatever had happened last night. It’s honestly a little bit of a blessing when Hanamaki and Matsukawa pick him up. He’s quiet for the drive there and he can feel the stares from Hanamaki and Matsukawa. They only ask him about the cut to his forehead, though, and he only responds by saying that he fell.

Hanamaki goes off to the bathroom almost immediately after they arrive and that’s probably the exact moment Iwaizumi’s night goes to shit. Nearly immediately after, a woman comes up to him and starts very shamelessly flirting with him. She’s touchy and overbearing and even Matsukawa acting as his boyfriend wasn’t even enough to deter her. Only some stranger coming up and leading her away by the hand makes her stop.

It is a blessing when Hanamaki comes back and they get their own room. It’s fun while they’re there, just the three of them, but then they start going to different bars and he gets nervous.

If Hanamaki notices how nervous he looks, he doesn’t say anything. Matsukawa gives him a few concerned glances, but stays silent as well. It’s honestly a wonder that Iwaizumi could even tell that Matsukawa was looking at him with how much he’s been glancing around each bar they’ve visited. Every time they go to another place, he can’t help but feel high strung.

He would write it off as being paranoid, but he knows that he’s being watched. There isn’t a doubt in his mind. His stalker is here, he just doesn’t know who it is. No matter what, he just grows more and more restless as the night progresses. When Hanamaki and Matsukawa finally drop him back off at his house, he feels a bit bad for ruining what should have been a fun night.

Finally, once he arrives home, he checks the messages from his stalker. Maybe, looking at them now, he should have checked that morning. Every single one of them alludes to something new, some sort of new gift, that he won’t like. They get progressively worse and worse as he reads through.

Then there’s something about the girl who had flirted with him. And his stalker is beyond angry from what he can tell. One of the texts is about how no one should be allowed to touch him. Another is about how the woman deserves do suffer for daring to touch him.

[Restricted]

Sent: Please dont hurt the woman who flirted with me

Received: Oh, now you’re willing to respond?

Sent: I’m sorry
Sent: I’m sorry just please don’t hurt someone because of me

Received: Why shouldn’t I
Received: Why shouldn’t I hurt you too
Received: After all, you did let it happen
Received: On the same day that you ignored me

Sent: I’m sorry
Sent: I meant to reply
Sent: It’s my fault, I know
Sent: Im sorry

Received: I think I’ve got a good idea
Received: If you care about her so much
Received: Some stranger who you didn’t even bother to talk to
Received: I did, you know. I talked to her after I took her away from you
Received: it was fun being right there, right by you while you were awake
Received: but if you care about her as you claim to, hurting her will hurt you too

Sent: No, please

Received: It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone

Sent: Please
Sent: Please don’t hurt her because of me
Sent: I’ll do anything

Received: Anything?
Received: I’ll hold you to that

Iwaizumi lets out a shuddering breath as he puts his phone down. His hands are shaking, he notices distantly. He thinks it’s finally starting to sink in that he could be in real, actual danger. He had, of course, known already, but now it feels real. He slides a hand through his hair and hopes that his stalker won’t hurt some innocent woman just because she had flirted with him.

He sinks to the floor, right there in his kitchen, and spends a good half hour just shaking. Every time he thinks that maybe he’ll be fine, maybe nothing terrible will happen, he remembers the face of the man who had led the woman away. The face of his stalker. And every time he does that, he remembers another instance in which he had seen him before. There are so, so many. And every time he remembers one of their encounters, he shakes harder. Tears refuse to fall, but at this point he’d honestly prefer it.

The next week is filled with dread. He’s agreed to do anything, probably quite literally anything, that his stalker requests of him and he doesn’t know when the request will come. He was expecting something right away, but a week later he finally thinks that maybe the pleading had been enough for his stalker to forget about everything.

It’s strange, though. Usually he gets at least one text each day, but he hasn’t heard anything since last Saturday.

He comes home from work on Friday to see a small card sitting on his table, the number five on the front. Inside is an address. He looks it up on his phone to see that it’s a tattoo parlour and his heart sinks a little bit.

In addition to the address, there’s a time and date. It’s tomorrow, but it’s not like he has any plans he needs to reschedule. He’s reluctant to go out with Hanamaki and Matsukawa after what had happened and he hasn’t been talking to any of his other friends.

He doesn’t get much sleep that night, but it doesn’t really matter. He wouldn’t be ready for this no matter what.

The tattoo artist, a man with messy black hair falling over one eye, seems nice enough, but he’s almost a little too nice. He tries to talk Iwaizumi out of the tattoo for a while before finally starting. Normally, Iwaizumi would appreciate the gesture, especially with how the man can tell he’s hesitant. Instead, he’s just worried that this is some sort of test.

The tattoo goes on his hip and it hurts just about as much as he had expected it to. He’s glad it’s simple, just what he assumes is his stalker’s name. Tooru. Gift number five because of the five letters. Now at least he has a name to put to his stalker.

He’s still in pain when he gets back to his house and his attention is drawn to the little box of chocolates from the week before. Five of them were still left. Iwaizumi is so, so tempted to just eat one, but…

What if his stalker, what if Tooru gets mad?

What if Tooru decides that even though Iwaizumi got the tattoo, basically a brand honestly, the woman who had flirted with him should still be punished because a week after the fact, Iwaizumi had broken a rule. He doesn’t want to risk it. Not if he can do something to make sure that he is the only one getting hurt.

There might be one way, though. Before he can think about it, Iwaizumi is unlocking his phone and sending a text. Is it the worst idea he’s ever had? No. Is it a good idea? Definitely not. Is he currently regretting it? Absolutely.

His phone lights up with a notification, Tooru responding with yes, it is okay to eat one, but only if you were good. The tension leaves his body as he takes one out and waits until he’s in his bed before eating it this time. It doesn’t take long for his vision to go blurry and his head to feel light. He sets his phone down beside him and closes his eyes.

The next memory he has is on Sunday night and almost all of the chocolates are gone. All but one. He stands up and immediately regrets it as he clutches his head, trying to combat the pain. He entertains the thought of trying to remember the weekend, but decides that it’s probably best left a mystery.

At work the next morning, he’s apparently “quieter than usual” according to Matsukawa. He tries to shrug it off, but Matsukawa is persistent, saying that something seems wrong and he’s worried. He keeps deflecting and deflecting, but nothing will work until Matsukawa says that he knows about Iwaizumi’s stalker. He’s known since almost the beginning, but he was forced to keep silent. He doesn’t want anything to happen to Iwaizumi.

He tells Iwaizumi to leave, move somewhere else, before it’s too late.

In a quiet voice uncharacteristic to him, Iwaizumi tells him that it’s probably already too late. It has been for a while.

Iwaizumi leaves Matsukawa alone to process what he said, eager to get away from the confrontation. He hopes that Tooru doesn’t know about the short conversation, but he knows that the odds of that are almost zero. Tooru knows everything about him.

When he gets home, there’s a vase containing four roses, white with pink streaked through the petals. He picks up the small card - obviously with a four on the outside - and reads.

Iwa-chan! You were so good today with Mattsun! Good for you, telling him off like that. I got these roses for you as a reward. There’s another gift upstairs for you, but you don’t really need to look at it until you’re ready to go to sleep tonight. Make sure you follow the instructions included!

Iwaizumi sets down the card and pulls one of the roses out of the vase, accidentally cutting himself with one of the thorns in the process. It smells sweet, but he’s quick to put it back, wanting to avoid further injury to himself. His night is relatively uneventful, up until he decides to go to bed.

In the middle of his bed is whatever gift that Tooru had given him in a small box with a card on top. He picks up the card first.

I really do want to reward you, Iwa-chan, but I’m worried that Mattsun may have gotten in your head. This gift is a little bit different from the others, but it’s three accessories. Two that you’ll like and one that you might not. Don’t worry, I just want to let you know that you’re mine. There’s a pair of handcuffs in the box. I want you to attach one of your wrists to the bed frame each night. I’ll let you go if I decide you deserve it.

The countdown is almost done, I can’t wait!

Iwaizumi opens the box and finds a scarf, a watch, and, as promised, a pair of handcuffs. He bites his lip as he considers them. He knows that he should just do as Tooru says. But how can he willingly make himself vulnerable like that?

He sets the handcuffs on his nightstand and grabs a piece of paper to write on.

I won’t go anywhere, I promise.

Once that’s written, he puts the note on top of the handcuffs and puts the watch on. There are no instructions for that, but he assumes that it’s expected he wears it all the time. It is a gift, after all.

When he opens his eyes the next morning, everything is dark. He tries to sit up, but it’s made difficult by something tugging on his wrist. It’s cold and hard and fuck. His heart nearly stops.

“Calm down, Iwa-chan, just relax,” someone says from nearby. “I appreciate the sentiment of your note, but I gave you instructions.”

Iwaizumi’s breath hitches when he feels a hand on his shoulder pushing him down. The bed sinks down as Tooru climbs onto it and the way he settles on Iwaizumi is terrifying. The weight on his hips makes everything too real.

“I know you’ll be good for me,” Tooru purrs and uses his other hand to push Iwaizumi’s shirt up slightly to admire the tattoo. “But sometimes you make impulse decisions that make me question that. All you have to do is follow my instructions and everything will be fine.”

He shivers at Tooru’s tone, bright and sweet, but dangerous.

“But you didn’t,” Tooru whispers into his ear. “You keep disobeying, even now. Even though you were so good yesterday. I’m getting tired of it.”

Iwaizumi wants to apologize, wants to beg for forgiveness, but his voice is caught in his throat. All it would take would be a tiny movement of Tooru’s hand for his air to be cut off and for him to die. He doesn’t… he hasn’t ever thought that he was in danger before, but now with how angry Tooru sounds, it’s a real possibility.

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t take it out on you.” Tooru places a soft kiss to his lips. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve already made it clear that I can hurt other people to ensure you’ll behave. This time I just won’t tell you who it is yet. That way you can’t try to talk me out of it.”

Why can’t he just unfreeze? He’s got one hand free still, he could at least try to push Tooru away. He could say something, anything. He wants to at least try, but he just can’t.

“Enough talk about that, though. I don’t want to talk about punishments while I’m here,” he says, the hand keeping his shirt up moves downwards, instead, under Iwaizumi’s waistband. “Let’s just enjoy our time together.”

Iwaizumi finally finds it in himself to move, but the most he can do is turn his head away when Tooru tries to kiss him again.

“Don’t resist, Iwa-chan,” Tooru murmurs, voice once more beautifully threatening.

Iwaizumi’s afraid of what might happen if he ignores the warning, so he doesn’t.

It takes a few days before Tooru allows him to get up and go to work again. When he finally does, he learns that Matsukawa has been missing for those same few days that Iwaizumi was a prisoner in his own home. Hanamaki is predictably a mess and no one judges him for it. Afterall, his husband is missing.

Iwaizumi is taken to the police station for questioning because he knows Matsukawa and because he was the last person seen with him before his disappearance. He doesn’t think he stops shaking the whole time. Maybe he’s not a suspect, but he’s sure he looked suspicious. And he should have. He’s probably partly to blame. He should have gone to the police about Tooru more than just once, no matter what he said.

But he didn’t.

And now Matsukawa is missing. And it’s kind of his fault.

As soon as he’s allowed to leave, he texts Tooru. He doesn’t want him to be mad because Iwaizumi talked with the police. He didn’t say anything about Tooru, but he needs to make sure that Tooru knows it.

He’s not happy with Iwaizumi, but everything is apparently forgiven. Tooru’s response should make him feel better, but he’s mostly just apprehensive. Iwaizumi knows that he’s going to be punished eventually. He just doesn’t know how.

Getting up and going to work the next morning is hard for him, now that he knows Matsukawa is missing, but he manages. He unlocks his classroom and opens one of his desk drawers.

So this is how.

Set neatly upon a card with the number two are two eyes. Human eyes. One of his students walks in and asks if he’s feeling alright. It takes everything in him to not break down right then and there. Instead, he gets the student to leave the room before closing the door and locking it so that no one else can get inside.

Once more, the police take him in to ask questions. It feels much more accusatory this time, but what does he really have to lose. Maybe if he got arrested he would be able to escape Tooru. It seems unlikely, though, and no matter what he can’t bring himself to say anything about Tooru that might incriminate him. He pretends he doesn’t know what the two means.

He pretends he doesn’t know that it means whatever game Tooru is playing with him is coming to an end.

When he’s finally allowed to leave, he finds one unread text from Tooru.

[Restricted]

Received: do you get it Iwa-chan? Eye’m watching you

He spends a while after he gets home alone under blankets, staring blankly at the wall. He knows that the blankets won’t really do anything to protect him, but he feels better like that.

The next morning when he wakes up, he doesn’t go to work right away. He’s allowed to, the handcuffs had been undone during the night, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even call in sick or anything, even though he probably should.

Nearly an hour later than usual, he gets out of bed, going through the motions of his morning dully. When he finally opens his laptop, he finds a one minute long video pulled up on the screen. A small piece of paper covers the keyboard. It has the number one on it and the instructions to press play.

The first five seconds, it’s a recording of him coming home from work one day. After that it splits in two, footage continuing on the left, but on the right is a video of him sleeping in his room. It splits once more to add other places in his house, and then again and again and again until he can barely tell what’s going on in each video, but he knows that every one includes him.

He stares at the screen after the video finishes, unable to do anything else. He has always known that Tooru knows what he does all the time, but this… there are so many cameras. Tooru truly has been able to see his each and every single move.

Iwaizumi is still staring blankly at his computer screen when he feels arms wrap around him from behind. He’s terrified but he barely jumps. In a way he expected this.

Tooru leans down, kissing his neck just below his ear before whispering, “Zero.”