Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

oikawa wasn’t sure what happened.

a good thing turned into

            a less good thing.

                        and less good

                                    and less good

                                                and less good.

Until what lay between them wasn’t a fight,

But 9000 kilometers.

the warmth of

Iwaizumi’s hands

Of his body

Of his heart.

oikawa’s cold phone pressed against his cheek

listening

to the robot operator spouting out the same nonsense it has for years.

he scrolled through posts of 

His Iwa-chan,

Having the time of his life.

With his New Friends,

New Home,

New Life.

9000 kilometers away

from tooru.

who didn’t fight enough.

who had turned weak and feeble

in the very moment he needed to be strong.

9000 kilometers between them.

9000 promises not kept.

Iwaizumi will follow his dreams to the end.

tooru suddenly realizes

9000 kilometers away

Was the only unwavering Support

That he’d ever felt.

Chapter Text

Oikawa really was trying to stay calm. Really, he was.

But his legs jittered. He fidgeted nervously and couldn’t quite get his seatbelt on once on the plane. Thank God for his teammate’s help; he isn’t quite sure he could look the flight attendant in the eye if they saw him, the starting setter of Argentina’s national volleyball team struggling to put his seatbelt on like an uncoordinated toddler.

But how was Oikawa supposed to react? They’re on a flight to play against Japan. Away. He knows those players, and worse, he knows who’s become their trainer.

Iwaizumi Hajime. The biggest bonehead on Earth. In more ways than one.

His teammate nudged him.

“ You alright, Tooru? ” He asked in Spanish.

Oikawa nodded, responding in turn, “ Just weird. Being home after so long. ”

His teammate nodded in understanding, “ You never visited, right? ”

“ Never. ”

This was a first, for everyone.

~🏐~

As soon as they got to Japan, Oikawa–despite insisting he knew very little about Tokyo–became their certified tour guide. He brought their team to a cheap bar on their request, and ordered his recommendations of food and drink for them.

Tooru just ordered water. He doesn't drink anymore; it made him anxious. Hell, just being at a bar kind of freaked him out.

But it was okay. He was with his team now. A team that cared about him. A team that doesn’t know or care about any of Tooru’s high school drama. He could relax. Have fun prodding at his tipsy teammates. Cut them off when he knows that any more could get them in trouble with the coach. Just like they do back in San Juan.

But this isn’t San Juan.

“Is that Oikawa Tooru?”

The setter swiveled in his seat. A few of his teammates looked over too, not understanding the Japanese, but recognizing their teammate’s name.

Oikawa stood, grinning, “Makki? Matsun? What’re you two doing in Tokyo?”

He wandered over to the two, looking over them. He hadn’t seen either of them since high school and a lot had changed. Hanamaki looked a little stronger. Like he started caring about hitting the gym the way he never did in school. His face was a little older too, more mature. Experienced. Matsukawa looked more mature too. He’d let a beard grow out, the facial hair complimenting his face shape. It made him look sharper. A little older than he was, but certainly not in a bad way. Oikawa swears he got taller too, but maybe he’s just seeing things.

Hanamaki smiled, “We’re here to see you.”

“Well, your match anyway.” Matsukawa added.

Oikawa nodded, smiling, “Really? Awhhh, Makki and Matsun do love me!”

Matsun rolled his eyes, “I see some things don’t change.”

“And others do. A beard? Bold choice.”

“You sound jealous.”

“Oh please. I like looking 5 years younger than I am, thanks.”

Makki laughed, “Still doing all that skincare?”

Oikawa gasped, scandalized, “Every morning and night!”

The three laughed. The way they were easily able to fall back into conversation was soothing. Like maybe this land he left behind was still home. Speaking his native tongue, being around people who looked like him again… all of it was like a balm to his heart. Even the air felt different here. Oikawa didn’t realize how much he missed it until he was there, the country wrapping itself around him like a warm blanket. Like home.

“So which hotel are you two staying at?” Oikawa asked.

“Actually,” Makki answered, a little cautious, “We’re staying at Iwaizumi’s place.”

And there it was. The other shoe. Oikawa flushed, suddenly uncomfortable, and glancing back at his team, wondering, momentarily, if they’d be able to find their way home if he ran out of the place right now.

“Oh. Iwaizumi. Right…” Oikawa murmured, testing the name out on his lips, like something foreign.

Makki and Matsun both nodded, but squirmed in their seats and didn’t push the subject any further.

“How’s Argentina been?” Matsun asked, suddenly.

“Good.” Oikawa said, thankful for the redirect, “Hot. A lot of fun though.”

Makki nodded, “Volleyball’s good there?”

“Great.”

The two smiled. Matsun nodded over to his teammates, “That’s the rest of them, then?”

Oikawa nodded, “My teammates. They’re cool. Drinking.”

Right. Oikawa should cut them off soon.

“You’re not drinking?” Matsun asked.

“No,” Oikawa said, “I don’t drink anymore.”

“Yeah,” Makki murmured, “Me neither.”

The two glanced at each other for a moment before Makki turned to the window, looking solemn, and Oikawa glanced down. Something, suddenly, caught his eye.

A new, shiny ring, freshly on Makki’s left ring finger. He had been fidgeting with it nervously for a moment as he thought of something to say. The thing was gorgeous, with a small, but bright gemstone in the center of the intricate thing. The gold band had swirling designs in it, like something caught in a breeze, letting the current of wind carry it along until the metal hugged onto the gemstone beautifully. The thing looked real. Expensive.

“That ring’s gorgeous,” Oikawa said, a little in awe, “Where’d you find it? And why are you wearing it out to a bar?”

Makki glanced down to his hand, smiling a little, “I wear it everywhere, Oikawa.”

“Seriously? Aren’t you scared of losing it or something?” He asked, but Makki shook his head, “Why?”

“Well,” He said, trying to keep his voice steady, but a wide smile was bubbling up, “It’s an engagement ring.”

Oikawa’s eyes blew wide, “Engagement? To who?!”

“Well…”

Hanamaki glanced up at Matsukawa, taking his hand. Matsukawa just smiled back down at him, squeezing their hands together tight.

Oikawa knew it was rude to stare and gawk. But the two totally deserved it.

“You two… when?? How??”

Matsukawa laughed, “Kinda started during senior year but… Neither of us pursued it. After seeing what happened to you and Iwaizumi… but a year after graduation or so I was a few drinks in and left him quite the voicemail…”

“Issei is not comprehensible when he’s drunk, no matter what he says.” Hanamaki said with a laugh.

Matsukawa grinned too. The two seemed happy. So damn happy.

Oikawa thought he might throw up.

“That’s… so great.” Oikawa said, a little more sincere than he felt, “I’m really happy for you too.”

“Thanks.” Matsukawa said and Hanamaki nodded.

The three just stood there for a second. Letting it all sink in.

“Well then. I should uh… get back to my team. Nice seeing you two.” Oikawa said.

“Oh! Of course. Don’t let us hold you back. Enjoy.” Hanamaki said.

They said their goodbyes and Oikawa made a beeline for his table. He sat back down, sighing sharply. His teammates were still talking and having a good time. After a few minutes, Oikawa collected the money, paid their tab, and brought them home.

Things had been changing for the years he’s been gone, but he has too.

The only question that remained was if it was enough.

~🏐~

The game finally came two days later. Oikawa was warming up with the team. He was setting for them as he did, trying to warm up his joints especially. His knee had been acting up again the last couple of weeks. 

But really, he was just trying his best not to look over at the other team.

In a circle, stretching, was the Japanese National Team. Oikawa recognized plenty of faces: Chibi-chan talking to Tobio, who watched with a typical reserved interest. Ushiwaka, already locked into his game, ready to play his hardest. Then there were the players he never managed to play in high school: Bokuto speaking rapdily to Kiyoomi, as their athletic trainer pushed him farther into the stretch.

Their athletic trainer.

Iwaizumi Hajime .

He was as handsome as ever, if not more. His piercing eyes were still as firm and sharp as ever, able to kill with just a glance. Any muscle from high school had been improved upon, leaving him with hunking arms and strong legs showing through his uniform. His jawline was sharper, all of the baby fat melted away and leaving the sharpest line he’s ever seen on a man’s face. Paying attention enough, he could see stubble, the very same shade as his hair, peeking out from his face.

He fumbled the next set. Jose shouted at him to pay attention in Spanish.

Throughout the warm up, he couldn’t help but feel as if something was boring into him. He was on edge, ready to fling into action and much flightier than usual. Jose called him over, switching into the little Japanese he knew.

“What’s happening, Oikawa?”

He sighed, rolling his shoulders, “The whole situation is just.. weird. Sorry. I’ll shape up, I promise.”

Jose nodded, “Take it easy. Do some mobility stretches.”

“Got it.”

Oikawa jogged back, moving his knee in circles a few times. He adjusted the white brace on the joint, recentering it. He kept doing his stretches, but the fact that Iwaizumi was so close, just on the other side of this court…

It was hard to focus. Especially now that the guy looked like that .

But the game did have to start.

Oikawa held the ball in his hand, breathing deeply as he went through his serve routine. He threw it up, launching the ball towards the other team, starting the game off with a service ace for Argentina. The crowd was already going wild. By the time Oikawa hit his third point, the Japanese team was already calling their first time out. Oikawa just had to stay calm and do what he always did: play the game, and play it well.

~🏐~

Argentina took the first set, Japan the second. Late into the third, with Argentina just a point away from a second set, the rotation had gotten the Japanese team back to Ushiwaka. The team stood ready: that left hand of his is what cost them the second set.

But, miraculously, their libero received the ball perfectly. Oikawa had run up from the back line and set it for one of the middle blockers, but the spike was received. He fell back into position as they started their counter attack: a synchronized attack. He crouched, waiting in bated breath and his team moved about, trying to cover their bases.

It was going to Kiyoomi- No, Chibi-chan– Or-

Back row attack. Ushiwaka. The corner just to his right. Move. Move, move, move-

Not to him. Of all people to lose to, not to him.

He rushed to move to the side and slammed his foot down, getting his hands into position when the sound rang out around them. A loud, sickening crack.

But the spike was received. Oikawa got right back up to be ready, but a pounding pain stopped him in his tracks, knocking him to the floor. An emergency set and spike won them the last point they needed for the set. Oikawa was sure the crowd was screaming, but he really couldn’t hear them. Not over his own heart. A teammate offered a hand, but as soon as he put weight on his knee, he collapsed back to the floor.

He held his leg to his chest. This can’t be happening. Not here. Not now. Not after everything he did to get to this point. The ice baths, the physical therapy– this wasn’t supposed to happen.

His trainer came running, already unraveling a roll of bandage with an instant ice pack under his arm.

“Let’s see the damage.” He said in Spanish, crouching next to Oikawa.

Oikawa lifted his leg, unbending it with a gasp. A spike of pain jolted through his leg, making him bite his lip with agony as he panted. Stupid knee. Stupid chronic injury.

“Okay… that’s it. A little swollen, but a sprain’ll do that. We’ll x-ray it later.” He said.

“X-ray?”

The trainer nodded, peeling his brace off as gently as possible. He wrapped the joint efficiently, trapping the ice pack against it. The pain was starting to subside; assuming he didn’t move too much.

“Okay. We’re going to get you to one of their recovery rooms.” The trainer said, “Up on three?”

Oikawa nodded, planting his other foot as the trainer hoisted his arm around him.

“One, two..- up we go!”

Oikawa pushed up on his good leg and the trainer helped steady him. But he was clearly struggling under Oikawa’s weight. (Un)Fortunately, the Japanese team happened to have a trainer who lifts.

And before he knew it, Iwaizumi Hajime was practically carrying him through the stadium’s hallways.

Oikawa had resisted at first, attempting to mostly walk on his own, but for fear of injuring himself further, he let Iwaizumi be his crutch.

“Here we are.” Iwaizumi murmured, helping him onto the examination table when they got there.

Oikawa wishes he didn’t miss how warm Iwaizumi’s hand had felt on his waist. Holding him up and steady. Like he cared.

“We have an x-ray machine on the premises. This is our most advanced location ‘n all.” Iwaizumi explained, “So I’ll have the techs take a look. Just to make sure.”

“Right,” Oikawa responded, “Thank you.”

They both made eye contact, then averted again.

“You look different.” Oikawa commented, a little softer than intended.

Iwaizumi leaned against a counter, casually, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Good different!” Oikawa blurted, waving his hands a little, “Seriously! I promise. With the muscles and the…”

Iwaizumi was smirking . Ugh! Oikawa was supposed to make Iwaizumi sweat with questions like that! Not the other way around! That stuck up piece of–

“Good to know you haven’t changed that much.” He said, looking back down at his phone, “You still kiss my ass when you get nervous around me.”

Oikawa clenched his jaw, “Good to know you’re still a douchebag.”

Iwaizumi glanced up, scoffing a little, “Yeah, yeah.”

Things kind of went quiet from there, but not a comfortable kind of quiet. Maybe it would have been–there was certainly potential for a calm time waiting for the x-ray techs–if Iwaizumi wasn’t shamelessly checking him out.

And maybe Oikawa deserved this. Maybe he flirted a little too much back in Argentina. Maybe it was payback for what happened when they were younger, or for Oikawa checking out Iwaizumi much the same way only hours before. Maybe his luck was just shit enough for him to end up in a room with his ex, who is still looking at him like a piece of meat.

Not that Oikawa minded. Not too much…

He should mind. But Iwaizumi was hot and being home was making him a lot more sentimental and suggestible than he usually is. With all these foods and feelings he missed. The feel of the air and scent of the streets. The settling back into a rhythm the entire population followed; the very one he used to as well. The food, the people, the sights and sounds, he missed it all.

And there was no denying the truth anyway: Iwaizumi was the thing he missed most.

So he grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand.

“Take me home tonight.”

~🏐~

Lucky for Oikawa, it was just a sprain. 

Lucky for Iwaizumi too, incidentally.

Oikawa’s trainer, after looking over every aspect of the thing, mandated two weeks of rest and one week of PT. It definitely wasn’t the worst prognosis; but not the best either. At least he could still walk. Mostly.

Iwaizumi offered to take him home the second that the trainer asked him who would. The walk was fine. Quiet. But charged. They both knew what was coming.

That was clear when Oikawa had his back against Iwaizumi’s mattress, kissing him harder than he’s kissed anyone in years. They fell into old habits like clockwork. Iwaizumi remembered what spots made Oikawa melt, and Oikawa remembered just what to say to get him worked up.

“Shouldn’t we be careful?” Oikawa murmured as Iwaizumi sucked his collarbone, “I did just sprain my knee.”

“S’fine, Tooru.” Iwaizuimi murmured, moving up to his ear, “If you’re a good boy and sit still, you’ll be just fine.”

Then he bit. Sharp and stinging and so incredibly tantalizing. Every brush of teeth and tongue was sweet to the taste and each bite to his skin incredible. They kissed again, almost like they were trying to suck each other up. Or make the other die of asphyxiation.

So yeah. Oikawa didn’t really have much hope. Not after stepping right into the fire.

~🏐~

They laid quiet in the middle of the night. Sometime between them letting up and now, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had gotten home. Iwaizumi had gone out to talk to them for a bit before coming back into their shared silence.

Something about it was comforting. Familiar. Iwaizumi’s smell–some cheap cologne he’s been wearing since high school. Oikawa almost forgot how it smelled completely–surrounding him as he sank into the bed, a strong arm wrapped around him. This was good. Something Oikawa could get used to… something he’d love to get used to.

But this wasn’t high school.

“Look, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, suddenly focused on honorifics like they didn’t just have sex, “This was good and all but… This can’t happen again. We said we were done. We’re done.”

Oikawa paused, “What?”

Because… what???

“You heard me. We broke up when we were kids and that was for the best. We shouldn’t try to… bring that back. I just wanted a fun night, alright?”

Oikawa sat up, ignoring the ache in his lower body. He turned to Iwaizumi, mouth hanging open, agape.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” Iwaizumi rested on his elbows, “You wanted to keep this up? You’re going back to Argentina.”

“We didn’t break up .” Oikawa corrected.

Iwaizumi paused, staring, “What… are you talking about?”

“You ghosted me . Wouldn’t let me explain myself at all.” Oikawa said.

“There wasn’t anything to explain! I saw what I saw!” Iwaizumi said.

“You don’t even know what happened! And you ignored me until today! Nearly 6 years , Hajime.” Oikawa pointed out, crossing his arms.

Iwaizumi sighed, “There was nothing to explain. Everyone said you could do better and we both knew it the best. You just did what everyone expected.”

Oikawa huffed, “Can you listen to me? For once? I didn’t cheat on you. And I told you to ignore stuff like that. People who said that were jealous, Iwaizumi.”

“Yeah. Cause you could have anyone you want and you chose me .”

“Cause I wanted you!”

They went quiet, just staring at each other for a moment. Oikawa stood and got dressed.

“Guess it’s too late for that though.”

Iwaizumi just watched as he got ready to go, but he called his name at the last moment. Oikawa turned around, watching expectantly.

“We can’t…” Iwaizumi sighed, “I stand by what I said. No matter what. Even if we see each other all the time in the future… this is done.”

Oikawa looked him dead in the eye, expression utterly unreadable.

“I agree.”

Chapter Text

The cherry blossoms were in

full bloom

on the day tooru left.

Today,

full bloom

graces them again.

The scent helped him

ground himself.

Helped him breathe.

Hajime used to climb them,

clambering up their thin branches

when they were kids.

Tooru never knew

whether or not to follow.

Once upon a time,

under the flowing petals,

they shared their meals here.

Meat buns after school,

and convenience store gummies,

became a pot luck;

which invited stories

and laughter

and love.

Today,

the petals

mean nothing.

Hajime long ago decided that;

he thought Tooru would never climb with him

to the cool shade of the thin branches.

And Tooru still stares up,

waiting for Hajime’s hand, or some other sign from God,

that it was the right path.