If Iwaizumi has to assign a taste to defeat, it would be rotten eggs. Vile, bitter, and stagnant. Their changing room at the Sendai City Gymnasium reeks of its pungent flavor.
He had known that Karasuno wouldn't be easily defeated a second time, and they have proven him correct in the most heart-breaking manner possible — by destroying Oikawa's last chance to take down Ushijima Wakatoshi. He knows he will probably be spending his next couple of evenings sleeping on Oikawa's floor, mopping melted ice cream off of his friend's reddened, snotty face.
If that isn't enough, there is one matter that nags in the back of his mind, and he is pretty sure he won't be able to sleep until it is handled. Iwaizumi can easily go the rest of his life without speaking to a member of the Karasuno Volleyball Club, even if they are fantastic to watch as a spectator. However, there is one conversation that will need to occur between their sparring clubs, even in the wake of this stinging, stinking defeat at their hands.
Iwaizumi does not excuse himself from the changing room before he walks out, still wearing his sweat-drenched uniform.
It isn't difficult to find Karasuno's changing room; the sounds of their obnoxious skinhead wing spiker and deceptively loud libero echo out of the room and spill through the surrounding hallways. Small Fry is chiming in with his idiotic senpai, and Iwaizumi is pretty sure he can hear Sawamura bellowing for them all to shut up.
On any other day, the sound would have drawn a smile out of the Seijou ace. But not today.
Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi leans against the wall outside the room and waits.
After about five minutes, someone emerges. Kageyama starts and drops his shoulder bag when he sees his former teammate and senpai.
Ten seconds of uncomfortably intense staring later, Kageyama asks, "Iwaizumi-san! Is there something you needed?"
Nodding, Iwaizumi says, "I was hoping I could have a word with your manager."
The mention of the team manager brings a mixture of confusion and apprehension to Kageyama's already sour expression. "Not so loud," Kageyama says with an air of conspiracy that Iwaizumi isn't sure he understands. "Nishinoya-senpai and Tanaka-san don't let anyone talk to Shimizu-senpai."
Figures, Iwaizumi thinks, that the two loud clowns on the Karasuno team would also double as guard dogs for the admittedly beautiful manager. Shaking his head, he says, "That's not why I'm here. Something happened before the match, and I owe both of your managers an apology."
Kageyama's eyes widen. "Ossu." Without another word, he slips back into the changing room and emerges with the third year manager, Shimizu, in tow. "Shimizu-senpai, this is Iwaizumi-san."
Shimizu regards Iwaizumi with an almost uncomfortable level of intensity, which belies her calm and pretty face. Wanting to break the scrutiny, or at least his awareness of it, he bows. "Kageyama, could you give us a minute?"
Iwaizumi expects Kageyama to object, but the younger boy is surprisingly willing to leave his manager alone with an opponent. However, he is not in a position to complain, as he doesn't want any more of an audience than necessary for this regrettable piece of business.
"Shimizu-san, I would like to apologize for what happened before the match, during warm-ups."
Straightening, Iwaizumi sees her regarding him, but with a different expression. Her soft features are almost leaden, and her eyes narrow. "No," she says. He is surprised that her wispy, almost mousy voice is edged in steel.
He feels himself scowl. "May I ask why you won't accept my apology, Shimizu-san?"
"I won't accept it because it is neither my place to accept, nor is it your apology to give."
And now, Iwaizumi is utterly confused. "My badly aimed spike nearly injured your manager kouhai. You obviously saw it, since you blocked the hit."
"Yes, I saw it." Is that a snarl? "As I said, it is not your apology Yachi-kun deserves."
Iwaizumi struggles to figure out exactly how he is misinterpreting this situation. "Is it because she wasn't looking?" he muses aloud. "That still doesn't excuse my piss-poor aim."
Shimizu shakes her head in one definitive motion. "Perhaps you should ask your other setter why she wasn't looking in the first place. Then you will understand."
Without another word, Shimizu turns and heads back into the Karasuno changing room, a mask of calm draping over her previously agitated face with an almost enviable ease.
Snorting, Iwaizumi turns back to his own locker room to do as Shimizu had directed — have a conversation with Yahaba.
The team is largely as he had left them — lingering in a sweat-soaked stupor. Yahaba is lounging dejectedly between Kyoutani and Kindaichi, his head hanging between his knees. Iwaizumi nearly feels bad for disturbing his period of grief, but something about the way Shimizu had become icy makes him feel like the matter needs to be handled right away.
"Yahaba," Iwaizumi barks, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Outside. Now."
The entire room stares as Yahaba follows Iwaizumi out into the hallway, sharing the second year setter's lack of understanding.
Once they are in the hallway and a good distance away from the Seijou changing room, Iwaizumi crosses his arms, jaw set, and says, "I spoke with Shimizu-san, Karasuno's manager."
Part of Iwaizumi is hoping that nothing will come of this conversation, but when he sees Yahaba blanch, he has a feeling that it is a fruitless wish. "Talk. Now."
"I'm sorry, Iwaizumi-senpai!" Yahaba nearly shouts, his eyes squeezed closed as if he is bracing for a blow. "I didn't mean for it to happen."
With a sigh, Iwaizumi urges, "Didn't mean for what to happen?"
Head hanging low, Yahaba stammers out an explanation of having thrown a ball just to get Karasuno's junior manager to chase it, which had caused the distraction Shimizu-san had mentioned.
Iwaizumi has played team volleyball for more than half of his life. Outside of Oikawa, he has never had the urge to strike one of his kouhai as he does at this moment.
"I should wring your neck, Yahaba. That was low," he grinds out, now glad to see the younger boy shrink and flinch even lower. That sort of behavior is something he would expect from Oikawa or even Kyoutani, but never directed towards the slight, doe-eyed girl that he doubts has ever even attended an official match.
He can see Yahaba practically melting into the floor. With a grunt, he hisses, "Get up. You're coming with me."
Not waiting for Yahaba to follow of his own accord, Iwaizumi grabs the setter's arm and guides him towards the hallway where Karasuno's dressing room is located, with a little more force than is necessary. Once they arrive, he says flatly, "Stay here."
His frustration with the situation almost makes Iwaizumi forget about how little he wants to confront anyone on the Karasuno team as he knocks on the door. He is relieved when Shimizu answers the door. "Have a minute?" he asks as he sends a pointed glance towards his now trembling kouhai.
When Shimizu sees Yahaba, Iwaizumi notices her mouth flattening into that icy, stoic expression as she disappears back into the dressing room. She is only gone for a few seconds before she re-emerges with a short blonde girl in tow — Yachi, Shimizu had called her. Yachi's eyes widen when she sees Iwaizumi, and they turn into saucers when they slide behind him and notice Yahaba.
He immediately feels bad when the girl audibly yelps and steps behind Shimizu.
Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi waits for Shimizu to step aside before bowing to Yachi. "Yachi-kun, please accept my apology for the actions of my kouhai. He behaved dishonorably, and it will not happen again." He steps back and yanks Yahaba beside him. He feels a rush of gratitude for Yahaba when he notices the younger boy is already bowing to Yachi.
Iwaizumi steps to the side and finds himself standing shoulder to shoulder with Shimizu as he watches this startled girl blink in bewilderment at Yahaba, a hardened athlete who towers over her by at least thirty centimeters.
When Yahaba sinks to his knees and begins sobbing at Yachi's feet, Iwaizumi can't think of anything to do but tilt his head and stare.
"I'm so sorry!" he cried. "I just wanted you to look at me because you're cute, and then you nearly got hurt! I'm embarrassed that I didn't come find you on my own, that Iwaizumi-senpai had to make me do this, but I'm a shame to my school and to my upperclassmen."
If the scene before him did not come on this particular day, Iwaizumi fears he would have laughed. A sidelong glance at Shimizu tells him that she is at ease and, if he isn't mistaken, fighting a smile.
The ball, however, is firmly in Yachi's court, and Iwaizumi watches her expectantly for her reaction. The girl's face scrunches like she has eaten something bitter before her high-pitched giggle tinkles down the hallways.
Slapping Yahaba on his shaking shoulder, she says, "No harm done!"
Yahaba's head jerks up in surprise. "Y-you aren't mad?"
Yachi, whose face is now flaming red, says, "You thought I was cute! No one's ever said that to me before."
Iwaizumi can't help but feel stupefied as he watches Yahaba spring to his feet, blushing furiously, and waving his arms. "That is unforgivable, Manager-chan!"
And that, Iwaizumi decided, is enough of that. He can almost feel the second-hand sweetness rotting his teeth. "Yachi-kun, do you accept my idiot kouhai's apology."
As if she has forgotten he is there, Yachi staggers away from Iwaizumi. "Y-yes, Scary Ace-san. I forgive him."
Nodding, Iwaizumi grabs Yahaba's collar and says, "Good," before dragging his stuttering underclassmen back to their own dressing room. "Thank you for your generosity, ladies, and your patience." Jerking into a curt bow and shoving Yahaba by the neck along with him, Iwaizumi dismisses himself and spares only one backwards glance at Shimizu to see that she is, hopefully, satisfied with the resolution of the situation.
He sees her lips quirk into a slight smile, and for a moment, Iwaizumi sees why Kindaichi falls all over himself when anyone mentions Karasuno's female manager.
Turning his attention, albeit reluctantly, back to Yahaba, Iwaizumi growls, "I hope you don't intend to embarrass me like that again. Next time, I'll just let Shimizu-san punch you like you deserve."
Yahaba yelps, "Never, Iwaizumi-senpai! Never!"
Iwaizumi thought as much.
Two Days Later
It is around eight at night as Iwaizumi and Oikawa struggle to study for an exam neither of them can concentrate for, the sting of defeat still clouding their brains, when the text alert on the former's phone chimes.
Glancing at his phone with a raised brow, he wonders who might be messaging him. Roughly ninety-five percent of his text traffic was Oikawa, who is sitting across from him with equal interest.
"Does Iwa-chan finally have a girlfriend?" Oikawa teases.
Flailing out a leg for a solid kick to Oikawa's hip, Iwaizumi says, "Shut up, Asskawa."
He picks up the phone and looks at the caller ID. The number is not one he recognizes. Sending one last jab of the foot at Oikawa, who is sneaking sideways to steal a peek, he opens the message. His eyes subsequently shoot open in surprise.
This is Shimizu Kiyoko, Karasuno's manager. I hope you don't mind that I got your number from Kageyama-kun, but I wanted to thank you for the other night. Yacchan is not afraid of stray balls anymore, and she seems taken with your young setter.
Iwaizumi actually grins at the message, imagining the spritely Yachi mooning over Yahaba. His mouth still tugged firmly upwards, he keys a quick response.
Any time, Shimizu-san.
Naturally, he should know better than to let himself show any sign of happiness. While still reading his own text, Oikawa snatches the phone right out of his hands. "Give it back, Trashkawa! That's none of your business!"
"Oooohhhhhh," Oikawa croons as he squints at the screen. "Who is this Shimizu?"
Fighting and losing against the urge to punch Oikawa, Iwaizumi thrusts the heel of his palm against his friend's forehead, smoothly catching his phone as it flies out of the backwards-falling Oikawa's own grasp.
While Oikawa loudly complains and berates him, Iwaizumi saves the number and hopes that maybe he might meet this silent but dignified girl again.