[better late than never: an after story]
"There are all kinds of love in the world but never the same love twice." - F. Scott Fitzgerald | the one-shot everybody wanted with a sort of closure I needed really
Right after Iwa-chan's little speech, he noticed a figure not far from them - her back was to them and it was dark, but there was no mistaking her raven hair, that backpack with a planet key chain, or that off-white jacket. His heart stopped, he knew that person exactly.
And without hesitation, he walked up to her and snatched her away - catching a glimpse of those grey-blue eyes of hers, glinting in the dark. His heart beating frantically in his chest - but anger took over. God, he was fucking stupid sometimes.
If there's one thing he learned from his sister, it's that you can't force two people back together - even when something as serious as a child was involved.
Aiko had to raise Takeru all on her own when her bastard of a father refused to.
When she gave birth, the name she gave was just ironic – only, he wouldn't realize it soon, as it was the name of a young boy who was dear to someone he knew.
Years later, Aiko would raise Takeru on her own, bearing the burden of it all without the father and live with the stigma of being a single mother as they lived in a conservative country. Thankfully, his sister had a great support team. And soon enough, she was able to find Hirose, a man who would soon fill up the void of what she longed for, and who eagerly took up the opportunity to give her son what his biological father couldn't give.
Every time Oikawa took care of Takeru when he was a teen, he felt like it was divine punishment for all the things he's done to Arisa. Even saying his name felt like a bitter taste in his tongue.
And try, as he must, to bring them back together, it still would've felt forced.
The second time felt almost right, as they had matured a little. Still, it felt forced for many reasons.
Which is why, as he pushed Arisa against the wall, arms caging her in, his anger armed and ready – he couldn't help that small flicker of hope inside him every time their eyes met, even though there was something holding them back; he couldn't help that even though it's impossible to bring two people together, there's always this small flicker of hope.
Hope that yearned for so much, yet, it was at the back of his head as his anger and pride took over.
God, he really was stupid.
...
They haven't been to Miyagi in what seems like forever - Oikawa, moving to Tokyo after he was drafted into the National Team, Arisa, having studied outside, came back and eventually found work in Tokyo as well. In their four-hour trip, via bullet train, it felt almost nostalgic. A trip down memory lane.
But this time, things were different.
The air was different when they arrived, but it was still Japan - they assured themselves. Miyagi was, in a way, different. Urban and rural - home.
She had been in tears at the sight of her weak grandfather, practically throwing herself to his bedside when she arrived in her childhood home. Although weak, the old man offered his only granddaughter a wide smile, eyes shining at the sight of her.
Oikawa had watched from the doorstep, knowing that it wasn't his place. For about an hour, the two were left to talk and catch up on a lot of things - Arisa and her grandfather sure were close.
She and her father, however, were full of contempt. For the sake of Arisa, Oikawa was respectful towards the man, even though deep inside he was seething with hatred for the man who caused her misery.
A little while later, as Oikawa was looking around the old house, Arisa's mother approached, saying that her in-law wanted to speak to him.
Oikawa was never really close with the old man, having never met him when Arisa and he dated.
However, he did remember the old man watching from the far corners of the room whenever they visited or when he had to leave. It was the steely look in his eyes that stopped Oikawa cold - noting how the old man seemed to intercept him, see through him, a silent warning and caution.
Gently sliding the door behind him, he carefully made his way towards the bed, feeling the older man's eyes on him. The room reeked of chlorine, hard medications, sweet flowers, and an impending doom upon bedridden man before him.
Making his presence known, he met the man's eyes dead-on, not deterring or running away.
"Oikawa Toru, was it? Please have a seat," he tells him, with a wave of his hand.
Doing as told, he kept his eyes on him, wondering why he would ever want to speak to him. Blue-gray eyes stare down at him, fierce and hardened - a million shades heavier than another pair he's used to.
"You wanted to speak to me, sir?"
Grunting, wrinkled hands settled on the man's chest as his eyes turned towards the ceiling.
Silence filled.
"Do you love her?" the old man looked up at him, as though he were standing.
"Yes," he answered immediately, fiercely, eyes locked unto his. He was no longer a teenager with his insecurities getting the best of him, no longer bearing that childish pride of his, no longer what he used to be - he wanted to prove that at least.
"Then," the old man sighed; eyes withered but still full of the same glint from all those years ago. "please take care of her for me. It's selfish of me to ask you this, but I want you - no, I need you to love her, love her fiercely, love her always - she needs that the most."
Grunting, he leaned back against his pillow, eyes towards the ceiling, recalling the past. "I spent the first few years of her life indifferent to her existence only because she wasn't born male. But it was only after I saw her fiercely loving her younger brother that I realized the errors of my ways. Since then, I was dedicated to showing her how much I truly loved her."
Arisa had shared to him how her grandfather had been strict all her life but was really soft-hearted and warm. He was the reason she was so found of vinyl records, why she preferred rock music from the older generation, why she had such an appreciation for the arts.
"She's always loved you," he assured the old man.
Blue-gray eyes turn to him, he was expecting those cold, steely eyes, instead, what he got were soft, warm, matching the soft, small smile on his lips. Ones that remind him of a certain someone with the similar pair. Ah, he was definitely her grandfather.
"I leave her to you now, okay?"
...
Her grandfather died peacefully in his sleep, a few days after she came home to Torono.
Jubei Yoshizawa died at the age of 78.
His remains were buried next to his grandson, Takeru Yoshizawa.
It was a solemn event. Everyone mourning was in pain at the loss of a great man, the Yoshizawa patriarch, even the tiny black and white corgi was solemnly quiet. But everyone could tell that the most hurt was the immediate family - especially the only female firstborn.
She gazed sadly at the coffin as it was being lowered, feeling her heart break slowly with every centimetre it dropped, hands gripping tightly unto the flower in hand, feeling the stem snap into her skin, quiet tears uncontrollably slipping down her face.
It pained her more to see her little brother's grave, the slab was clean and well-polished, displaying his name. It didn't matter the many years that had passed, for the loss of her brother will always hurt her.
Ever since she moved out, the person keeping her brother's grave clean were her parents or Tobio.
Although he had long told his cousin that he no longer needed her to guide him, it was now his turn to watch over her - oh how the tables have turned. Tobio was particularly protective of his cousin, especially from Oikawa. He hated how much pride he had for dismissing his hurting cousin, bearing different kinds of pain and putting on her best for him, becoming his shield when she was breaking herself. Remembering the hostility between the two during his first practice match back in high school made him wary, confirming it afterwards during the Inter-High preliminaries when he found them kissing.
Upon hearing his cousin's announcement that they had been dating again, Tobio was a little puzzled by the prospect.
Three times. This was their third time already – the ring resting against her chest was testament and proof of that.
Tobio was reliving the exact moment when Takeru died, seeing the dullness in his cousin's grey-blue eyes as she clutched unto the image of her smiling grandfather. This time, however, he wasn't there to hold her hand.
Oikawa was.
He took her hand in his, threading their fingers together, gripping tight, anchoring her pain as though it were his.
And for Tobio, that was enough.
…
"Hey, Arisa?"
"Hmm?" Soft fingers ran through his locks, smoothing tangles in its wake, comfort in its after touches. He purred at her touch.
Choosing his words carefully, he tilted his head – brown meeting grey-blue. "If Takeru were alive," fingers stilled, if for a millisecond, her body wincing a bit at the mention of her brother's name "would he like me?"
Tilting her head to the side, she let her hair slip off her shoulder. "Hmm," she hummed at the thought, creating suspense, keeping her expression light. "He'd have hated you, for sure."
"What?!"
She bit back a giggle, eyes twinkling at his response and of adoration. "I mean, he's always wary of boys. You'd have a hard time convincing him." Her hands slipped down, feeling the shape of his head before grabbing a fist full of tufts on the back of his neck. Grey-blue eyes were happy and full of adoration, matching with a small smile. "Considering how he's tiny and vulnerable, with a slight bit of big sister complex, so he's very protective of me." Sliding her hands towards his fine jaw, taking his face in her hands, expression now earnest. "But yeah, he would've wounded up liking you for sure. The only thing that matters to him is his big sister being happy."
The corners of his mouth curled slightly, eyes warm at the girl before him. "And do I make you happy?" He leaned in, Arisa's hand dropping to her sides, their noses touching.
"Like an idiot."
…
It had started out with a few dates. Some text messaging. Video calls in between trainings and photoshoots. Weekend brunches. Coffee. And then, on her 28th birthday, she had asked him to accompany her back to Torono to visit her brother's grave, as they shared the same birthday after all.
Together, they had stopped by a nearby shop to buy some flowers and candles. Oikawa had helped her choose, settling with lilies.
Noticeably, Arisa's body tensed as they neared the grave, her expression turning grim with each grave they crossed. Truly, it shows that despite the many years that have passed she would still be affected by the death of her younger brother. No matter how many years passed by, nothing could ever heal her pain - her first true taste of pain and loss.
He realized with a squeeze to her hand, shamefully remembering, how much he had called out on her affections with Tobio in the past. That was uncalled for.
Standing next to Arisa, she just stood in silence, staring at her brother's grave, eyes soft at his name on the marble.
Breaking the silence was a soft buzz from Arisa's phone, it was her mom, wanting to greet her. Excusing herself, she took a few steps away, leaving Oikawa with her brother.
Though dead, Oikawa still felt nervous around the mere mention of Yoshizawa Takeru. Although he was one for the paranormal, the supernatural made him sceptical. Yet, the marbled grave was off-putting, like he was there, glaring at the brunet, judging him for being there with his beloved sister, wondering why she decided to be with him – detesting him.
But Takeru had every reason to be – for every tear Arisa shed, every insecurity he planted in her head, every doubt she had about protecting Tobio. Had he been alive, he would've avoided Oikawa from ever hurting Arisa, he'd protect her from the heartache and pain, he'd have ensured that his sister got nothing but what she deserved. Key word: had.
It dawned to Oikawa that he knew all these but knew somewhere in his fragmented heart, that he was good enough for his sister. The future was uncertain, but it was exciting and new.
With a roll of his shoulders, shifting from foot to foot, the crunching beneath his foot grounded him, the familiar smell of Torono, reminding him of everything, and the knowing of a certain dark-haired girl behind him, gave him incentive of a future he was looking forward to. And for his piece of mind, he looked back at the marble head on, as though he were looking at Takeru, himself.
"I just want you to know that it's her, it's always been her, and I'm going to keep it that way. I won't promise that I'll make her angry, that we'll fight, that we'll hurt each other, that I'll make her cry. But I won't let her go this time. Because I want her, I need her, I love her." He said in one breath, his heart beating rapidly against his chest, and yet, he felt light, calm.
Suddenly, the wind blew harshly, something light tapped his cheek, slipping into his hair. Plucking it with his fingers, he found a lone Sakura petal. Strange, since hanami was over a week ago.
…
The door opened, two teens slowly making their way in, the taller one announcing his arrival, when a pad of feet was making its way towards them.
"Welcome, Arisa-nee-san!" greeted Takeru, eyes bright and bouncing with excitement at the dark-haired girl, completely ignoring his uncle.
The teenage girl didn't seem to mind, walking up to him with a smile before crouching a little to greet him. "Good afternoon, Takeru~"
A dramatic sigh was heard behind them, not that they both seemed to care nor mind.
"Nee-san, can you help me with my homework again?" he asked, eyes shining, cheeks tinting.
"Sure thing!" She immediately replied with a tilt of her head, strands of hair slipping to the side.
"Takeru, let your Uncle Toru and Arisa-chan settle in first," Oikawa's mom called from the kitchen, the young boy smiled at Arisa one more time before running off to the living room.
Standing straighter, Arisa had just taken off her shoes when she felt arms around her, hugging her from behind. "Toru," she says, with a roll of her eyes, walking up the foyer and he still didn't let go. "you're heavy." She turned her head to him, blowing strands of hair that came to her face, humming as she felt his nose and hot breath against her hair.
"Sometimes, I hate how close you are with him." He tells her, arms protectively wrapped around her like a vine. Arisa could only hum in reply, waddling them both down the hall, Oikawa being heavy on purpose.
He says that, but he also loves seeing Arisa and Takeru interact – it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Re-entering the living room, his gaze fell on the two figures, huddled on the coffee table, watching them on the coffee table – Takeru reading aloud from his textbook while Arisa patiently helped him pronounce some words, and gently explained when he asked a question.
Oikawa would've helped, but he liked hearing Arisa speak English – hers was near perfect with just a twinge of her accent falling in, but perfect, nonetheless. The soft glint in her eyes sent a warm twinge in his heart, her actions were delicate and soft when regarding the younger Oikawa. He saw a wave of emotions wash over her as Takeru read on – struggling to read in English, patiently waiting on.
…
The perks of being a national athlete meant he had an unlimited paid vacation, compensating to the rigorous hours spent training and playing for the country. Oikawa made it a point to spend every free moment he had with Arisa. But of course, it wouldn't be a relationship with some scrutiny from the media, but they were passed that, having gone through high school and grew up as fine young adults of society.
Though she worked for the local media, she held her own judgements to a fault, enough to be fair in separating work and her personal life. Something she clearly had to hone from years before.
Getting to know someone you've had the greatest connection with was, at most, both easy and difficult. Easy, because he already knew what she was, saw the areas she could improve on, and just because he was content with however, she was. Difficult, because there stilled lied a fragility of their relationship stemmed from years of insecurities, fear, anger, and many more, which could just as easily break it again, depending on who'd take the chance to.
However, both he and Arisa, best decided that as difficult as it was, it was best to acknowledge and move on from it. It wasn't easy though, nothing about them was easy to begin with.
Somehow, they made it work. They always did.
And when they did, it felt like the most natural transition from all the hurt to this state of bliss.
Truly a bliss, but somehow, something was missing.
Dark clouds loomed over Tokyo, threatening the arrival of a tropical depression, and it was a Friday at that.
Currently, Oikawa was still on break, spending his unlimited paid time-off with his loved ones, especially with one special girl.
Coming back from their date, both she and Oikawa were wet, dripping all over her floor. He was in her apartment. She let him use her bathroom, first. Her mind was hazy, from all the emotions spent from today – the glances, the touches, the whispers, the look in his eyes, the thrill of knowing he was looking, the smile on her face when he made a joke, the skip of her heart when his lips were millimetres from her skin but never quite meeting-
Oikawa's apartment was in Shibuya, which was a 25-minute ride by train, 11, if he took a taxi and traffic wasn't heavy. However, considering their current predicament, it was best that he stayed a while.
Thump thump, came the familiar beating of her heart.
28, and still, it was there – palpable, sneering, inviting- No, not again! She willed it away, wishing for it to melt as her ears lulled to the rain pouring outside, the water running in her shower.
Unable to help herself, she marched towards where he was. Steam rising smelling of coconut and flowers, she pulled the curtains open, Oikawa was surprised to find her there. She was still wet, clothes clinging to her skin. And he was naked.
"Arisa, anything wrong?"
She blinked, breathing slowly. "No, nothing's wrong."
And then she stripped her clothes off in front of him, falling behind her with a slap to the ground.
Oikawa swallowed, but didn't stop her.
In bated breath, he watched her join him in the shower, pulling the shower curtains close without looking back.
She just kept her eyes on his, unaware that he's never looked away the moment she entered – not even once.
Joining him in the hot spray of water, trickles and drops of water covered her naked flesh, making her body glisten.
Rising on her tip toes, distances closed, skins touching, before her mouth found his.
…
"I hate how easy it is for you to waltz back into my life as if you never had anything to do with leaving me so broken," he whispered into her skin, feeling thin fingers running through his slightly damp hair. He feels her breath on his scalp, could almost see her lazy smile.
"You're complaining now?"
"Well," craning his head to hers, nose touching her jaw, eyes meeting. "it was ten years due and it's true."
Smiling, she drew him closer - the tip of his nose trailing along the slope of her face, her cheekbone before bumping against hers. "Well, I hate how you can easily haunt me wherever I go, whatever I do with sunsets that remind me of you, of salted caramel, and chocolate." Her breath fanned against his, could see the glazed look in her eyes, along with another feeling that made him hard and mushy at the same time. "I also hate how you were right about one thing: how I'll never find anyone better than you."
That should make him smile, it should.
And it did.
Only he didn't want her to know that and dove in for a kiss.
"Happy 28th birthday, Arisa."
…
This was more than blissful, there was almost no word in the dictionary to describe what this felt like.
Just that, they both knew it was the happiest the two have been for years.
…
When they dated again, the first thing they ever disagreed on was Arisa's love for certain niches. She's always been like that ever since they were teenagers – evident in the way she dressed, her photography, her choice of music (that was mostly influenced by her grandfather), and her creative spirit.
However, her love for sentimentality in all forms of art has nothing to do with their disagreement. In fact, it's because she was a sentimentalist and a lover of art, that they disagreed on one thing Arisa owned – her car.
A faded yellow, 1990, mini-cooper. It was her pride and joy.
(Also, it was a graduation gift from her grandfather upon hearing that his only granddaughter was coming home)
At first, he absolutely refused to step inside her car because: one, he was a tall person. That was it. The other reasons were just plain stupid and childish, according to Arisa. To quote, it cramped up his style, end quote.
Slowly, but surely, he began warming up to the vehicle – especially finding out that it smelled like cinnamon and honey, the seats were comfortable, and that it saves extra time to travel, and he got to spend time with Arisa in it.
However, there was one particular memory that really sold him to liking it.
It was a chilly evening in March, the two had just been from dinner and were talking about their day when Arisa found herself looking out her window. Oikawa turned to her, wondering about her silence and followed her view – the beach.
There wasn't much beaches in Tokyo, being at the heart of the country, compared to their hometown, Miyagi. And it just so happened that the two were in Aichi prefecture for vacation. A four and half-hour drive.
"I wanna try something," Arisa announced, making a turn at the intersection. Oikawa, again, turned to her in surprise, wondering but not saying a word. Instead, he keeps his eyes forward, watching as buildings disappeared in sight and was replaced by a vast blue.
The car jerks as the tires hit from asphalt to rocks and sand, cruising slowly until Arisa pulls the break and just stares at the water.
Arisa turned to Oikawa, he turned when she did. She offered was a smile, sweet and inviting.
"What are we doing here?"
Her only reply was a toothy grin, pulling her door open. "Come on,"
Wordlessly, she pulls her summer dress over her head, leaving her in her bra and panty, kicking off her sandals, and runs into the water. Oikawa is perplexed at her actions, especially because it was late at night, this was a public beach, but they were the only people around. Still, it didn't stop her from looking over her shoulder, taking slow steps to the water. Laughing, he takes off his clothes as well and joins her.
The sand was soft, enough to bury their toes in as they walked towards the water. At the feel of tiny waves, touching their skin immediately brought about goosebumps across their skin – the water was cold, almost too cold.
He was just about to comment about it when Arisa splashed him, wetting his head and torso. She laughed at his stupefied expression, her laugh joining the sounds of waves crashing. He wasn't particularly keen on the taste of saltwater after chugging on bottles of beer. So, he retaliated by splashing her as well, rewarded by her screech.
The two continued splashing at each other, going at it for a while, before Arisa gave up and dove under water. Perplexed, Oikawa searched for her in the dark water, looking around the empty beach, before he felt arms behind him, dragging him down. She was such a strong woman.
He lunged for her, she laughed as she tried to swim away from him.
Her skin was glistening in the moonlight, basking her in a glow that made her look unearthly, a goddess, his. Unable to help himself, he grabbed her by the hips and planted his lips on hers. He swallowed her gasp, with an aftertaste of seawater and beer.
Breaking away, he pressed his forehead against hers and hugged her close, arms refusing to part from her skin.
"Toru?" she asked worriedly, breath fanning against his wet skin. It was all the confirmation he needed, to know that she was here, she insinuated this, his heart couldn't stop pounding.
Opening his eyes, he met her gaze, illuminated by the moon above them, before descending his lips unto hers.
The earth seemed to shift at their kiss, he could feel himself falling as he kissed her deeper. When she kissed him back, something inside him snapped, unable to help himself.
Hoisting her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, he wadded out of the water and back to their car, uncaring of their discarded clothes on the hood, as he continued kissing her. And she kept kissing back, desperately, hungrily, especially when she felt something poking her.
Feeling the cold metal dig into her naked skin, Arisa desperately felt for the door handles, pulling the door open, she and Oikawa quickly went in.
Her car was cramped, small, and hot as the two began shedding off what little pieces of clothing they have left. Gasps, groans, moans, whimpering, and whispers, all filled the cramped corners of Arisa's car.
He made sure to kiss every part of her skin, drinking up drops of water that made him drunk from her. His kisses and touches were sending her on a high, mind clouded by the feeling of him everywhere.
Outside, a lone yellow car could be seen from the distance, jerking awkwardly from side to side. If you'd squint, you'd see two figures joined together before they were blocked up by the building fog.
With the moon and the stars as their witness, the two continued on their lovemaking, it didn't matter anyway – the sky and the sea were witnesses to their tale.
Apparently, the years she spent abroad has made her a bit more daring.
"I can't believe we did that," Oikawa breathed, his skin sticking uncomfortably to the car seat.
Above her, the dark haired woman hummed, tracing lazy circles around his chest. Brown eyes fixed pointedly down at her, grey-blue eyes lazily looked up to meet his gaze – feigning innocence and mischief.
"Admit it," long fingers curled against her cheek, she tilted her head to fit into his palm. "you like it."
"I had no idea you were this adventurous," he laughed with a shake of his head, feeling his heart beginning to calm down.
Her eyes trailed from his messy-damp locks to the fogged-up window behind him, ever reminding her of that one scene in an old movie she can't name.
Throes of love shared inside a four-wheeled vehicle, away from prying eyes, and the two were in their secret world, their tiny haven. A single hand slammed against the glass, falling slowly down, down, down.
Oikawa awkwardly propped up his long legs to accommodate Arisa – again, her car was small, and he was a big person. Fixing their position, as Arisa kept her eyes on the window, fingers finding his as a comforting silence fills in between the two.
The windows had fogged up, evidenced by their earlier activities. Reminding her of a scene of a movie from before, where a similar activity had been done. Her brows furrowed together, trying to think of the damned title of that one movie.
Oikawa's arms wrapped around her body, keeping her close as he rested his chin on her shoulder, enjoying the moment. Outside, the moonlight emanated a soft glow down on earth, casting upon its wake to bless life with the gift of its silvery wisp, shadows were cast from the other side.
Breaking away from his hold, Arisa turned to her side, seeing that the window was still fogged-up and planted her hand against it. Beside her, brown eyes watched curiously, noticing the furrow of her brows at her actions, as if she were trying to puzzle something.
And then it dawned to him. He laughed.
Leaning over, pressing his chest to her back, he gently brushed his hand over hers.
"Titanic," he breathed against her neck, making her jump in surprise.
"A-Ah, now I remember."
Pressing his face against her shoulder, he pressed the lightest of kiss, before letting their intertwined hands slip slowly from the glass.
After that day, they somehow named the car 'Jack'. Also, Oikawa would sometimes drive.
…
Two bodies lied under the tangled sheets - both were bare; pillow lines, dark marks running along their skin. There was heat between the two, emanating even from hours of their activities.
His skin on hers. Their limbs were a tangled mess.
Interestingly enough, there was a strange taste in his mouth, only to find that it was some strands of her hair.
The strange taste and feel of this were what woke Oikawa up, eyes blearily taking everything in - their intertwined state.
How he never wants to get up, to leave.
Taking her hair from his mouth, he tucked them behind her ear, smoothing his fingers over her face.
Her eyes pinched, face souring a little, before relaxing, her eyes tiredly opening - galaxies unravelling in front of him.
Greeting her with his rare smile, reserved only for her.
Tiredly, she replied with a smile of her own.
There was only him and her. Them. In bed, their little haven. Him, in her arms, where he felt safest. Her, is his, where she felt secure and sure.
He wonders if she knows what his thoughts were about, if she could jump right into them and surface back easily.
Insecurities filled his head, his demons coming back to torment him-
The slight pressure from soft lips shook him off his thoughts, finding himself staring into a pair of twin grey-blue pools.
Constellations. Galaxies. Rivers. Waters. Those eyes were a window to a world he wanted to get lost in. They were the only pair he'd love to wake up to without tiring.
Suddenly, he broke into a laugh, he didn't know why. Maybe it was the ridiculousness of his demons, trying to break this bliss – if that's the word for it.
She joined in, her laughter breathless and most possibly, the most beautiful thing to hear first in the morning.
Fingers reached over, finding hers, intertwining.
He pulled her to him, bodies pressing even more.
A cold press stuck between their bodies, biting.
Looking down, he found the ring he gave her all those years ago, along with a years' worth of words he left unsaid, wasted but not quite, spoken but not really said, promises, wishes, hopes, dreams, and plans – his love, in the form of this simple ring.
A rare genuine smile broke from his lips as his eyes drank in the ring, fingers running over the thing while his free hand absentmindedly touching her skin.
It was a beautiful smile, one probably too beautiful for her. Did she deserve it, really? Was it hers to be? Was it truly hers?
Suddenly, lips pressed against hers – full of heat, warmth, affection, and love, leaving her dazed before she was met with his eyes, warm browns of sunsets, caramel, and chocolate – him.
The feel of his love for her was numbing – considering the depth of it was no match for anything he'd lay out (like his volleyball career or his vanity), but it was all she will ever need now that she knows that.
Long fingers gently touched her chin, lifting her gaze to his, fully.
Grey-blue meeting chocolate brown, both held the same emotions as they reflected from each other – all the respect, joy, and love they had for the other.
It was a realization and revelation that caused them laughed again at the fear, at their silliness, at them.
Wordlessly, he took off her necklace and slipped the ring off. She just watched as he took her left hand, eyes meeting, they smiled silly, before slipping the ring into her finger.
It was a perfect fit, as he predicted.
It was beautiful, as she thought.
It was perfect.
...
There was a smile on his face.
And for once – and that was saying, mind you – this was a true and genuine smile. One that Iwaizumi Hajime never thought he'd see in a while from his best friend, whose eyes never left the dark-haired woman who was showing his twins how to work her camera towards the falling sakura.
"You seem happy," he called out to him, a simple observation that meant no malice whatsoever.
The brunet's smile widened, looking at his friend momentarily, before returning to his woman, coaching Shigeru to photo as she held Koharu's hand – clearly, the twins adored their godmother. When finished, the two girls excitedly checked the end product, Shigeru worrying on his lower lip, before Arisa congratulated on a great job.
Sighing, Oikawa replied. "I'm the happiest I've ever been, Iwa-chan."
A weight had lifted from his shoulders from his statement, allowing him to feel light and chase away the worry he's always had for the man before him. Finally.
There were only a number of times he'd ever seen Oikawa genuinely happy, and mostly it was in regard to volleyball. But majority would be because of Arisa Yoshizawa. Since she left him heartbroken, those smiles were a rarity and the brunet became adept to the many kinds of smiles – all fake and full of malice or mischief.
A smile that came from the heart, stemmed from a happiness so incomparable that it couldn't be put into words but expressed through your face, enough to radiate off and infect practically anyone – that was the smile Oikawa Tooru currently had on his face.
Segumi, currently five months pregnant, appeared by his side, arms wrapped around his shoulders as they shared a look. Having heard their conversation, olive green eyes gleamed with joy and pride. His heart swelled, as he gave her a quick peck on the lips.
For as long as he lived, he wished his best friend could always smile like that.
Unbeknownst to them, one Iwaizumi Koharu caught them in the moment – her parents looking happily at her uncle, who was radiating at someone off-camera, and all of them stood under the blossoming sakura tree. Picture perfect.
…
Sweat glistened her skin, beautifully accentuating all her curves, sticking her hair on her face, shoulders, wherever. Her lips were as soft as ever, melting him enough to create glass.
When they come undone, heated breathes mixing in the air, collapsing against each other, they realized that this was a long way coming.
He doesn't know how many times they've done it, all that he knows is they both wanted more – to feel each other's heat, to connect with them. Over and over, they did it. It must've been hours, he thought. It always felt like it wasn't enough.
And with each passing, with every push and pull, they held on to each other as if it were their last. Only then did the two realize how exhausted they both were, how satisfying it had been.
Oikawa laughs to himself, putting an arm over his eyes, his heart feeling settled. No, this was enough.
Lifting his arm, he finds a pair of grey-blue eyes watching him.
Smiling, he wraps his arms around her and draws her close. She fit perfectly against his arms like a puzzle, the final piece to his heart.
Arisa pulls back, hands holding his face and her eyes holding his. She had a certain intensity in them that she's been withholding for years, long before they fell apart.
There were hundreds, thousands, millions of things he'd like to say to her, things he'd like to ask in the years that they were apart.
"I love you." Arisa says to him, quietly, softly. But to him, it was the loudest declaration.
It's the first time she ever said it out loud, and without hesitation.
Something pulls inside of him, his breath hitching, but he doesn't dare pull his gaze from hers.
And then, he feels the heat in his eyes, blurring his view. He crawls up to her, one hand on hers, and the other on her face, never breaking contact.
"I love you," she says again, as if hearing his plea. "I love you," a kiss to his temple "I love you," a kiss on his nose "I love you." A kiss on the corner of his lips.
He presses his lips against hers, softly, gentle, and lingering.
"I love you, too."
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So... hello again folks. It's like, three years too late. I think I was a little unsettled with the fact that Arisa never really told Oikawa she loved him, kinda selfish of her don't you think? Also, maybe this was my sort of return attempt to writing smut. Bc it's-been-a-while-I-need-you makeup sex is what I kind of live for, sometimes. Also, this was some excuse to write light/inexplicit smut (bc tbh i'm kinda sketchy at it) and to keep some deleted scenes. Lastly, writing the steamy part to 'Intertwined' by dodie gave me a lot of feels and serves as a sort of theme to this fic. I've also been listening to Taylor Swifts' 'Lover' when patching the missing pieces, because the overall song, tone, and feeling was very much reminiscent of this shot, if that makes sense. I was very insistent on posting this after 'what were the chances' btw (it's out, btw again, just separate just cause).
I am aware that this strays away from the canon/manga, because I haven't read that part because life has been hectic as of late. Sooooo, pretty much consider this an AU. I really missed writing these two. And this story, really.