Everything is silent.
There is nothing particularly strange about this. Both boys are fast asleep.
Their minds are everything but silent.
One is fighting a green being with six tentacles, massive suction cups on the underside of each one. The creature is wearing bright purple armor patterned with flames, dragons, and all the general gaudiness of any design thought up by a six-year-old. The boy himself is dressed in a loud orange breastplate, covered with death rays and more flames, and is firing a blaster at the creature, his gun giving off a deafening Hollywood-worthy sound effect when fired.
Nobody bothers to tell him that bullets are not typically composed entirely of light, nor do they create a clean hole when shot into the chests of green aliens. The boy gives a loud whoop of delight as the creature staggers and collapses onto the dusty ground, clearing the path that leads to a legendary treasure.
As for what this treasure is, the boy has absolutely no idea, but a treasure is a treasure, and he wants it.
"You have met your match, foul beast!" the boy yells triumphantly as he hoists the blaster back onto his shoulder, attempting to mimic the deep voice of heroic movie stars. "And tell your people that all should fear the great Captain Tooru, Avenger of the Seven Planets, Hero of the Galaxy!"
Nobody bothers to inform the great Captain Tooru that dead aliens cannot tell anyone anything, much less return to their people and declare that they must fear the Avenger of the Nine Planets, Captain Tooru, self-proclaimed Hero of the Galaxy.
Nor does anybody tell the boy that "heroes of the galaxy" typically do not go onto strange planets to steal treasure and kill the inhabitants. But this is his fantasy, and his mother isn't here to lovingly bestow upon him her profound wisdom, so he goes off on his way, taking great care not to step off of the worn dirt path.
The boy next door has dreams that are less fantastical, but equally exciting and adventurous nonetheless. At the moment, he is a gallon hat wearing, mustang riding, fabulously muscular sheriff of the Wild West, striking fear into the hearts of bandits with a single shot of his gleaming pistol. This would all be very plausible save for the fact that the fabulously muscular sheriff has never shot a gun before and has never ridden a horse, nor is he fabulously muscular, but technicalities aren't necessary.
As he rides through the dismal deserts on his trusty horse he christened "Shadow Fire," his eyes scan the land for trouble, trouble that he, the fabulously muscular, pistol-wielding sheriff, will have no problem disposing of.
And behold! The eagle-eyed sheriff spies a leather clad, mask wearing scoundrel hoisting a money bag onto his horse as the bank teller cries for help, help that only he, the fabulously muscular sheriff, can provide.
With a single shot of his gleaming pistol in the air, Shadow Fire races toward the criminal, and the bandit flees for his life, money bag in tow.
He is the one-shot sheriff, and with a single shot from his trusty pistol the crook has fallen off of his horse, which continues to race off into the sunset.
"And it's jail time for you, you dirty bandit," the one-shot sheriff says in his deep western accent as he slides off Shadow Fire, who nickers in agreement.
The scoundrel hangs his head in shame and allows himself to be taken to the jail in handcuffs, where they are greeted by massive crowds cheering for the one-shot sheriff, trusty keeper of the Wild West.
"How could we ever thank you, Sheriff Hajime?" the mayor says with tears in his eyes as he and the sheriff grasp hands tightly. Ever humble, the sheriff shakes his head.
"It is the least I could do for the town, mayor," he says. "I can't leave you all defenseless, after all."
The mayor bursts into hysterics and all the ladies around them sniffle softly into their lace handkerchiefs.
Let us leave the fantasies for now and allow me to tell you a story:
Once upon a time, there were two boys in a small suburban area of Japan.
These boys were not long-lost princes, nor were they knights. They were not sheriffs, they were not captains of futuristic spaceships. There is simply nothing particularly remarkable about the two.
Strange, isn't it? With the entire "Once upon a time," I expect that many of you thought that I was going to tell you a fairytale about princes and princesses, about magic and cunning and hundred-year long naps featuring people who actually are special.
Well.
I guess I am telling you a fairytale, then, if that's all is needed to have a story become one.
This is a story about friendship, about hidden galaxies, about princes, knights, cunning, and two-hour naps. This is a fairytale about volleyball and childhood fantasies, about chocolate and long lazy days where you lay on the porch and dream.
Comes pretty close, doesn't it?
Let's fast-forward a bit. It's the daily, tiresome routine now, no room for fantasies, only for dressing and brushing teeth.
Perhaps another hour or two.
There's even less time for fantasy now amid math and science, save for those brief moments of pure joy called "breaks."
A few more.
"What were you when you were sleeping, Iwa?" Captain Tooru asks as he sits on the moss in the sheriff's backyard, watching the latter grip a tree branch tightly, his legs swinging slightly above the ground.
"A sheriff," the sheriff responds, dropping to the ground. "What were you?"
"Space Avenger Tooru!" the captain says proudly, posing dramatically. He glances at the sheriff, who shrugs.
"A sheriff is cooler," the sheriff says, standing up to his full height of a meter. "You can lasso people and strike fear into the hearts of bandits!"
"But I can shoot aliens!" the space captain protests.
"I can shoot bad guys!"
"Aliens are cooler!"
"Then you're killing less cool people!" the sheriff says, confident that he has now officially won this argument.
"Iwa, aliens aren't people!" the captain says, offended.
"You know what I mean!"
The two lapse into a comfortable silence. A giant beetle scuttles up a tree and the sheriff's eyes are instantly drawn to it.
"So what do you want to be today?" the captain asks, following the beetle with his eyes as well.
"A sheriff," the sheriff says, plopping down onto the ground next to the captain.
"A space captain," the captain says, eager to defend his own pride.
"A sheriff in space," the sheriff says nonchalantly, trying his best to compromise as his eyes continue to track the beetle.
"A space sheriff!" the captain exclaims.
"What do space sheriffs do?" the sheriff asks, tearing his eyes away from the beetle.
"Well, we go on quests for space gold, of course!"
"And we can be fighters for justice and put all the space criminals in jail!" the sheriff proclaims.
"Yeah!"
"And we have super cool space lassos that shoot out laser beams!" the sheriff says, suddenly finding this idea fascinating.
"And bright yellow stars that can blind criminals! But they only blind criminals, not good guys," the captain adds.
"Yeah, our stuff only hurts bad guys."
"Let's go and find the space gold, space-sheriff Iwa!" the captain-turned-space-sheriff yells triumphantly, pointing at no place in particular as he pulls himself to his feet.
"Let's go!" the other space-sheriff yells, jumping to his feet.
The valiant space-sheriffs head off into the woods behind the former sheriff's house, proclaiming their greatness and laser-lassos to the world.
Let's return to our story and allow them to create theirs.
Once upon a time, two space-sheriffs were searching for gold on an alien planet. Dressed in their purple armor and glittering gold stars, they grip their laser-lassos tightly and navigate carefully around the deadly fallen log, hopping over large pools of lava that are shaped like rocks, searching for the "X that marks the spot."
They know, of course, that to find the gold, they would have to fight the invisible Guardian. The Guardian is two meters tall, has bright pink skin with two massive horns jutting out of its head, and is dressed in steel armor. But of course, this Guardian is invisible, so it will take all the courage and intelligence of the two space-sheriffs combined to defeat it.
BOOM! One sheriff senses, with his supersonic invisible-monster detector, that the Guardian is right in front of them! The two space-sheriffs draw their laser-lassos and prepare for an intense fight.
And after a long, ferocious battle, the space sheriffs emerge victorious. Their laser-lassos have served them well. There is a victory dance and a victory high-five, and they Are on their way, confident that they will find the gold.
Which they do, of course, under a crude "X" found on a tree-shaped cliff that they carved themselves.
The former space captain spends his share on alien figurines. The former sheriff spends his on toy cars.
The boys have finished with their adventure, but the story isn't over yet. There is a call from a mother, a disappointed "Aww," a grumbling over vegetables over supper with the parents, a quick teeth-brushing, and both boys are walking in their own minds again.
Everything is quiet, save for the soft snoring that comes from the former space-captain's room.
Tonight, the sheriff has morphed into an armor-clad knight, armed with a gleaming sword and mounted on a sleek stallion. He fights for truth, for justice, and with every stroke of his mighty broadsword, another villain crashes to the ground. He is Sir Hajime, the cornerstone of the country, and he will defend it to his last breath.
Our captain has been promoted to a prince, dressed in fine silks and furs, a gold crown adorning his head as he sits upon his throne. A million jewels gleam with every move he makes, for he is Prince Tooru, who will surely become a great king someday. Carriage rides on seats made of the finest velvet, his fingers covered with rings worth millions, hunting with his faithful falcon- what more could a prince ask for?
An excellent knight.
His wish is granted the day after on mossy ground amid giant trees when the knight kneels on one knee and swears to serve and protect the prince for life. They go on battles, conquer hundreds of empires filled with fabulous treasures, and defend their own against those who want to destroy it. They are the cornerstone and centerpiece of their realm, Prince Tooru and Sir Hajime.
Then there are are days in which they can't remember who they became last night, and spend their time relaxing on the prince's porch, sunning themselves and drawing with crayons while the knight sneaks chocolates from the kitchen, and it melts into a giant gooey puddle soon after.
"Where do you think aliens come from?" the prince asks on one of these days, his face smeared with chocolate.
"Other planets, I guess," the knight responds, doodling a massive sword onto a piece of paper. The answer satisfies them until the prince has another burst of curiosity.
"Iwa, do you think that there are different galaxies out there, and we're there, only different?" the prince asks, another piece of melting chocolate held firmly in his hands.
The knight snorts and pauses his doodling. "'Course," he responds. "In one of those we're the aliens, and in another we don't have to do homework!"
The prince nods with satisfaction. "I wish I could live in that one," he says, looking at the sky wistfully. "But will we still know each other?"
"Why wouldn't we?" the knight asks, returning to his doodling. "We're friends, aren't we? And friends stick together, even in different galaxies!"
They give each other wide grins and the prince takes another chocolate bar, breaks it in half, gives one large slab to the knight, and keeps the smaller one for himself as he stretches out on the porch, basking in the sunlight.
It's on days like these that the prince finds himself the most happy, and it's not just because of the chocolate.
Fast-forward hundreds of daytime-dreams, thousands of roles, millions of words that are exchanged between the two, and we land at a middle school volleyball court, where the prince has now become a supreme setter. The knight is now his ace.
They've "grown up" now, and are too old for childhood dreams of becoming a space-sheriff or a prince and his knight because now it's volleyball, volleyball, volleyball. Giving a perfect toss, delivering a perfect spike, performing a perfect receive- the adrenaline this sport gives them is addicting, and they want more, more, more.
Ace and knight.
Setter and prince.
The only difference between the two is age.
"Hey, Iwa-chan, remember those stories we would act out as kids?" the setter asks as they walk back along the sidewalk from their new school, Kitagawa Daiichi, their bags laden with textbooks.
"Yeah," the ace says, shrugging. "We would be stuff like aliens, right? And space-sheriffs."
"Mmm. We were obsessed with space back then, weren't we?" the setter asks, glancing at the ace, and they lock eyes.
"We're still obsessed with it," the ace snorts, turning his head and looking straight ahead. "What are you talking about? We've watched practically every meteor shower that we could stay up for, every space launch, and you're the one with the alien wallpaper."
"You still have those glow-in-the-dark star stickers on your ceiling."
"Those are cool, dumbass."
"Alien wallpapers are cool, Iwa-chan!" the setter protests loudly.
The ace and setter are quiet as they turn onto their street. It's dark now, as it is every evening when they return from volleyball practice. Their mothers fret about their homework, but they pull through.
Back to our story.
Once upon a time, a prince and his knight became a setter and his ace. Once upon a time, they grew further than they ever could have dreamed. Once upon a time, neither of them knew of a boy named Kageyama Tobio, who would shut their world down completely.
Once upon a time, this new boy brought back all the old insecurities that the space-sheriff-turned-prince had hidden away in his armor and gold crown.
And the knight was worried.
He finds the setter overworking himself one day, and has to drag him back home and gives him a loud talk about resting himself and how that if he gets hurt, he'll never be able to play again.
The two vanish into their houses with a worried glance and a brow furrowed with resolution.
Everything is silent.
There is something particularly strange about this.
Their minds are everything but silent.
"But don't you get it, Iwa-chan?" the setter roars at the ace one day after practice. "He's going to surpass me! He's going to surpass me and replace me! He's a genius, Iwa-chan! I have to beat him!"
"Some upperclassman you are!" the ace yells back. "You're supposed to train him! You're supposed to help him grow and make Kitagawa Daiichi better than it will ever be! He's got natural talent, you've cultivated yours, but it's for the team! We're responsible for the team, and I don't want to make Kitagawa Daiichi lose because you didn't teach him!"
"They aren't going to lose because I won't teach him how to serve!"
"Maybe, but you're being pretty damn cocky, don't you think? It's for the team, Oikawa! Can't you see that he's going to be brilliant one day? You're unbelievable already, but you won't be staying at Kitagawa Daiichi forever, we've got to graduate, and I don't want to leave our school with a setter that hasn't got his full potential!"
"He's going to beat me someday, Iwa-chan," the prince says softly, lowering his head. "I've practiced for years, and still he's so close to surpassing me."
The ace doesn't say anything and the two stand there among the volleyballs scattered around the gym floor.
"I don't want that!" the prince roars suddenly, his eyes filled with passion, with fury. "Don't you understand, Iwa-chan? I don't want him to beat me! I can't let him beat me, Iwa-chan, I can't!"
"That doesn't mean you can work your sorry ass until to break your legs, either!" the knight yells, grabbing the front of the setter's shirt and shaking him around slightly. "You've got to rest! I don't care if Kageyama beats you, because he certainly will if you're stuck with a bad leg and can't play anymore!"
The setter is now quiet.
"Either way," the knight says, a bit softer now as he lets go of the setter. "If you don't want to train him, I can't force you to. I think it's better for the team, but you do what you want with Kageyama if you feel so threatened. He's got talent, he should be okay and be able to carry the team."
The prince's eyes widen in shock and he feels an icy cold forming in his chest.
"But!" the knight roars, slapping a hand on his chest, right over his heart. "To me, you'll always be the best setter! No one, genius or not, is ever going to change that!"
I dare you to say otherwise, the ace challenges with his eyes, and the setter sees in them only steely resolve. He feels the ice melt and his features soften slightly.
There's a wide grin on the setter's lips now, and his eyes glint strangely as he wipes his nose with his sleeve.
"Thanks, Iwa-chan," the setter says quietly, and the ace harrumphs and grabs up one of the numerous volleyballs lining the gym floor.
"Let's pick up, then," the ace says as he gathers another volleyball into his arms. He pauses at the third one and glances up at the setter, who hasn't moved, his eyes questioning and worried. The setter smiles and bends down, picking up one volleyball, then another. The ace grabs the one closest to him and they spend a good five minutes picking up volleyballs and tossing them into the blue basket.
There's a comfortable silence after they shut the doors and the lights, and they walk back along the lamp-lit sidewalk, back home.
A pat on the back, a "sleep well," an extra "dumbass" from the knight and a soft smile and a half-hearted "Iwa-chan!" from the prince, and both setter and ace grin and wave each other goodnight.
Everything is silent as they walk into their houses.
There is nothing particularly strange about this.
But their minds are everything but silent.
A/N: So, hi. How you doing? Thanks for reading, by the way. I've always been a sucker for Iwaoi, and I hope that you enjoyed it! I love Haikyuu!, and this is literally the only piece that I haven't abandoned, but I do hope I'll be able to muster up the creativity to write more!
Please leave a review if you liked it! Those are the best!
