Iwaizumi had temporary amnesia.
He had sustained a concussion, the doctor told him, had taken a nasty fall while practicing volleyball, hit first by a volleyball's rebound, then again on the gym floor when he passed out.
His parents had visited earlier, Iwaizumi knew that much, hugging him in relief and fussing over him, later waving sadly when they had to go home to rest up for their jobs and Iwaizumi had to get an MRI.
But the boy next to him now- staring at him with sad brown eyes and biting his lip like he was about to burst into tears- Iwaizumi didn't know who that was. He knew his name- Oikawa- he knew they were close- friends? Classmates? Teammates? Iwaizumi watched Oikawa's eyes drop to his hand almost longingly, then flick to a spot on the floor. Lovers?
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa said, a tiny warble in his voice. Did Iwaizumi let Oikawa call him that? "I thought idiots with thick skulls like you were supposed to be immune to this kind of stuff."
Iwaizumi shrugged, too tired to argue. "I guess not."
Oikawa was silent, and Iwaizumi couldn't help but feel that he'd missed a beat in the conversation, some sort of easy dance that he didn't remember the steps to.
"It's alright, temporary amnesia, not permanent. There shouldn't be that many lasting effects. The doctors looked at the scan, and they said at most I might need to wear glasses sometimes."
That didn't seem to make things better, and Oikawa still fiddled with his fingers like he was lost in thought. Iwaizumi had an urge to pick them up and press them to his lips. Wait- was that a memory or just an old ache?
Iwaizumi cut into the silence. "If it makes you feel better, I don't really remember how I got here."
"I do. It was scary." A confession to the quiet room.
"Oh."
"I- Seeing you on the ground- it was-" Oikawa started, then bit back his words."I really hope this won't come between us- between volleyball. I really love it. But if it does- we can always go back to stargazing, like when we were kids."
Iwaizumi stayed silent, studying his hands. The callouses on his hands were probably from volleyball, and he could imagine himself jumping through the air, spiking down with brutal ease.
"Anyway!" Oikawa clapped his hands together with false cheer- Iwaizumi could see it in the quirk of his smile, the tight crinkled eyes that didn't seem right- "Let's talk about happier stuff, huh, Iwa-chan?"
"You said we- you really love volleyball?"
Oikawa deflated and he pouted, looking a bit disappointed but not surprised. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about this? Or do you have short-term memory loss on top of amnesia?" Oikawa laughed, but it sounded a bit lost and self-deprecating, like he was hoping for a little too much. It sounded too familiar, and Iwaizumi wanted to reach across and headbutt him.
"Answer the question, Shittykawa." The nickname rolled off Iwaizumi's tongue like he had been saying it his entire life.
Looking a bit taken aback, Oikawa's eyes widened a bit. "Oh, yeah, okay. Volleyball. I love it. Ever since we were kids, I've loved playing with you. When it became dark after practice, we'd ignore our parents calling us for dinner to look at the stars."
"What was your first love?"
"The stars."
"And the second?"
Oikawa's eyes bore into Iwaizumi's. "Volleyball."
Iwaizumi stared back, unwavering. He got the sense that Oikawa was leaving some things out, but he could remember bits and pieces of what Oikawa was describing: ruddy faces flushed in the exhilaration of success, snickering and running when back doors opened, spilling dinner calls and light onto an empty backyard. A stubby hand pointing to the stars and naming them, the warmth of fond confusion shielding him from the night cold.
Even now the same warmth rested in his chest, even if it was tinged with a bit of loss.
Their eye contact broke, Oikawa's eyes darting down to his hand again, and Iwaizumi almost snorted at his transparency.
Iwaizumi held out his hand, sighing. If anything bad came of it, he could just blame it on his concussion.
"Iwa-chan?"
"C'mon," Iwaizumi grumbled out, twisting his head the other way as his mind caught up to his actions and his face heated. This invitation was clear, right?
For a beat longer, then- warmth. Oikawa's fingertips danced on his for a moment, then slipped into Iwaizumi's grasp, linking their fingers and squeezing their palms together.
Iwaizumi's head whipped back in shock, but he squeezed back, relishing in the solid comfort of Oikawa's hand in his.
Yeah, this- this was familiar. Whether it was the familiarity of having held Oikawa's hand in the past, or the ache of pining (or both), it made his blood roar in his ears and his chest swell.
Spurred on by success, or adrenaline, Iwaizumi didn't really know- he brought up their interlocked hands, pressing his lips to the skin on the back of Oikawa's hand.
Days later, even after Iwaizumi was discharged from the hospital and all the missing pieces of his memory fell into place, Oikawa's flushed face remained in his mind, more exhilarating than watching stars twinkle in the sky, or being the stars shining on court.