Chapter 9: Feeling the Same Way
"The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you"- Rumi
Oikawa's fight or flight signs were easy to spot but hard to manage since they fluctuated at extremes. On one end of the spectrum was a fiery determination that had driven their team to multiple victories. In the worst of times, this same reckless resolve had propelled Oikawa to work his knee to injury, despite his own confession that he was overdoing it. Oikawa's wide-eyed and pained expression still appeared in Hajime's mind the night before big tests or interviews, making Hajime's heart pound with a heart-stopping fear that this time- this time- Oikawa's knee wouldn't recover. This time his best friend would truly be lost to himself. Hajime had vowed after that accident to be on the look out for the series of red flag expressions (narrowed eyes, snarled remarks, set jaws, and cracking knuckles) related to this extreme, but it was still difficult to intervene.
For problems that couldn't be solved by pure willful determination and reckless abandonment, Oikawa utilized his other technique: evasion. Oikawa's ability to skirt around topics he wasn't ready to discuss was something Hajime had witnessed plenty of times. A failing grade on a chemistry test made Oikawa dodge any homework or studying until volleyball was at risk. In high school, Hajime had watched him avoid a number of confessions from girls that Oikawa felt he couldn't reject. At the time Hajime thought he was being callus, but now he supposed it had more to do with being closeted. Still, the signs were always the same: overly polite or neutral face, bad jokes, less eye contact, fidgeting fingers and limbs. Despite this knowledge, Oikawa had only used his full power of flight against Hajime once, after the same knee injury in high school.
Hajime had stopped by the Oikawa residence the first day and was turned away ("Tooru isn't feeling well today"). He came the next day and was turned away again ("It seems to be a head cold that won't go away"). He tried for a whole week and for a whole week he didn't see a single hair on his best friend's head, didn't hear a single word from his lips, and (strangest of all) didn't receive any texts except for short replies to his own questioning.
"That scowl might make the first years cry," Matsun had told him at lunch on the fifth day.
"Kindaichi practically melted into a puddle of fear this morning," Makki added. "What's got your panties in a bunch anyway?"
"Have you talked to Oikawa at all," Hajime asked, stabbing a tomato angrily and dropping it away from his lunch. The two boys exchanged a look that told Hajime they had heard from him, which did nothing to improve Hajime's mood. "He hasn't told me anything. Even his mom won't let me in to beat some sense into him!"
"He's sick," offered Makki.
"He's full of bullshit," Hajime countered, glowering at his rice.
"That would make you sick," Matsun agreed, eating his lunch casually.
On the seventh day, Hajime felt like he was losing his mind. He was sure Oikawa was avoiding him, but he couldn't understand why and he couldn't understand the whirling emotions of loss at a week without his best friend. Instead of pondering this, he translated it all into anger as he snuck around the back of the idiot's house. In the evening light he tiptoed through the slightly broken window and up to Oikawa's room. Was it excessive? Probably, but he'd had enough, damn it! He was getting answers even if he had to beat it out of his friend.
Oikawa was in his room, headphones on and volleyball between his knees as he watched a video of the game against Shiratorizawa, eyes fixated on the screen. It gave Hajime the perfect opportunity to sneak up behind him, spin his chair around and yank off the headphones. A series of fascinating emotions flashed across his best friend's face, some readable (surprise, fear, confusion, realization) and others not as clear, until they settled on a neutral expression. Not quite a frown, but certainly close.
"What are you doing here, Iwa-chan?"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Hajime held his arms out to signal the room, the world, the avoidance in general.
"This is my room."
"Shut up, I know that." Hajime sat on the bed, eyes watching his friend's face for any clues, but he didn't give any. Oikawa was, by nature or habit, an excellent secret keeper. Only the slight sway of the chair back and forth signaled any discomfort. "Why are you avoiding me? Is this because of your knee? The doctor said you'd recover. We just need to do some exercises and stop overworking it."
"We," Oikawa repeated and there was a flash of something on his face, but it disappeared again behind the neutral mask. His thumb twitched against his index finger, digging slightly into the nail bed.
"Is something else bothering you," Hajime tried. "Did I do something? If you tell me, then I can fix it."
"You've been worried?" Oikawa asked and his voice was softer than usual, his shoulder hunching forward slightly. He seemed smaller that way and Hajime didn't like it at all. Didn't like that there could be problems that his best friend didn't share with him or that those problems couldn't be solved by putting their heads and muscles, if necessary, together.
"Of course I've been worried, Shittykawa. So tell me what it is and we can go back to normal."
It felt like Hajime was going to drown in the silence between them as he watched Oikawa digest this idea. He could practically see the gears in Oikawa's head turning, calculating, deciding. Finally he spoke, "I hate the knee exercises."
"So it is about your knee," Hajime asked, relief flooding through his lungs as he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He scowled as Oikawa nodded. "Then why are you avoiding me? I didn't mess it up!"
Oikawa let out a laugh, but not his genuine one. This one had a forced lightness, a tinge of embarrassment and secrets unspoken. "Iwa-chan is such a know-it-all. I thought he'd give me a hard time."
At the time, Hajime had accepted the explanation with nothing more than a punch to the shoulder ("Iwa-chan, I'm injured, you brute"). He'd ignored all the signs that there was something more because after that week they went back to normal: back to volleyball, back to being best friends, and back to planning for college. It was easier not to question the whirlwind of aggravating emotions at just seven days without his annoyingly good looking best friend. It was easier to take Oikawa at his word, even if Hajime could tell there was more to it. It was easier to remind himself that Oikawa always told him eventually, Hajime just had to wait.
It was just a few years later and Hajime is standing in front of Miko's house, the last of the three Oikawa residents in Miyagi that Hajime would have thought to check. He watches Oikawa's surprised expression shrink away behind that same flash of emotions (readable and unreadable). Oikawa rolls his eyes away from Hajime to the side, collecting himself, his right hand fidgeting against the top of the gate, digging his fingers into the wood. When he turns back, he looks different. It's smile number 17, the prepared-for-the-worst-but-no-one-needs-to-know smile (usually for doctors offices and teacher conversations). Hajime watches all of this and he remembers that night in third year and the unspoken secret. Now he knows the secret: that Oikawa Tooru is in love with Iwaizumi Hajime. Hajime knows his own secret too (that he loves Oikawa right back), but that doesn't make the thrill of fear any less present, especially when he hears Oikawa speak again.
"Iwaizumi, what are you doing here?"
"I came to..." Hajime starts, remembering his practice at home and his rehearsal on the train. It's all left him now. His mouth is dry and his mind feels blank. "...return your phone?" It ended like a question, but he holds out the phone any way. Oikawa's eyes drop to it, but he doesn't move any closer to retrieve it, the gate still separating them. His eyes look back at Hajime as if they're trying to read his mind. Hajime hopes his best friend is successful because it would make all of this so much easier.
"You didn't need to come all this way, I was going to head back to Tokyo tomorrow."
Hajime's arm drops. "Oh, I didn't know."
"Was there anything else," Oikawa asks and his smile number 17 is almost ruined by the suspicious look that passes across his face.
"Yes," Hajime says firmly. Oikawa waits and Hajime thinks it's this silent listening Oikawa that is the scariest of them all, with his full attention on every flinch and tone change Hajime offers him. "I wanted to apologize."
"Apologize?" Oikawa actually looks a little taken aback at this and the show of real emotions makes Hajime feel a bit better, like he's talking to his actual friend and not some strangely polite robot impersonating him. "For what?"
"For how I reacted to your confession," Hajime says hurriedly. "It was wrong of me to run away."
Oikawa's cheeks flame pink and his eyes dart to the side again. He looks as if he's seriously thinking of running away this time. Hajime takes three steps closer and the movement makes Oikawa snap into attention again. Hajime waits and he's seventeen again, drowning in the silence. He can see the gears in Oikawa's head turning, calculating, deciding. He can practically see his friend putting the pieces together. Then he blinks and there is a softer, more genuine smile on his face. Hajime feels a physical tug in his chest and he wonders how the fuck he ever went around being oblivious to his own feelings for the man before him, especially as the tall setter moves through the gate to the door of Miko's house. He bumps Hajime's shoulder lightly and it feels like an embarrassingly strong electric shock shoots through Hajime's whole torso.
"You always worry too much," Oikawa laughs lightly. "How much did you torment Kuroo to get my phone?" He unlocks the door and motions for Hajime to follow inside. They slip off their shoes. Oikawa stays a few long steps ahead of everything Hajime does, just slipping pass any attempt to reach out.
"I heard the voicemail that you left Ito and then called you until Kuroo picked up," Hajime admits, sitting where Oikawa gestured. "He pretended to be you."
"I bet it was unflattering." Oikawa scrunches his nose and Hajime almost wants to laugh at how cute it looks.
"It was okay, but clearly not you."
"You can't imitate perfection," Oikawa says, flipping his hair slightly as he moves to the kitchen, taking the kettle and filling it with water. "So the voicemail is what triggered your memory, huh? How much do you remember now? Just the confession?"
"The whole night," Hajime replies and he hears Oikawa's movement pause in the kitchen, but it's so brief that Hajime doesn't think too much of it, his own nervous energy buzzing in his ears. This is going better than he anticipated. He hasn't had to wait a week, hasn't had to break into any houses, hasn't had to scare Oikawa into talking. Well, he surprised him, but at least it wasn't as threatening as last time.
"So you came all the way here to pester my mother and apologize," Oikawa clarified and he's moving again in the kitchen, turning on the fire and getting down mugs. Hajime's right knee won't stay still, it's bouncing under the table.
"Yes and to apologize for other stuff."
"Other stuff," Oikawa questions, peaking out of the kitchen to look at Hajime. Hajime feels his mouth go dry again as their eyes meet, Oikawa's warm brown ones questioning, perfectly placed on a too beautiful face with hair falling gracefully and (almost) effortlessly across his brow before being pushed into place. Again Hajime wonders how he could interact with his best friend for so many years without knowing his feelings. Now it feels like they're screaming at him non-stop.
"I wanted to apologize for missing all the signs and being inconsiderate of your feelings for all these years." Hajime explains. He wants to add that he loves Oikawa as well, but the words stick in his throat, so he swallows instead. He hopes the tea will help clear the way. Oikawa steps fully from the kitchen, staring at Hajime with that surprised look again, the blush back and rising up his neck, sprinkling his cheeks in a way that makes Hajime consider embarrassing him every day.
"You've been thinking about all the signs from the last few years," Oikawa says. He seems to silently replay his own series of signs that may or may not line up with the ones Hajime has realized. The mortification is obvious.
"You always said I was a bit dense," Hajime chuckles and the self-deprecating jab seems to bring Oikawa back to his usual self because he rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns to the kitchen to pour the tea.
"I'm always right," Oikawa reminds him as he returns. He places a cup in front of Hajime, scoops up his phone from the table, and sits himself across the table. It's a bit farther than the conversation warrants, in Hajime's opinion, but he's not going to push his luck. Especially when Oikawa takes a sip and says, "I accept your apology, but there's no need to worry. I'm just glad you have all your memories back. Imagine if I had to care for you for your whole life? I'm not made to be a caretaker!"
"You'd probably kill me through some absurd accident with that much responsibility," Hajime replies, taking a sip. "Thanks for the tea." It slides down Hajime's throat, coaxing his courage and Hajime thinks maybe, maybe, he'll be able to say what he thinks Oikawa has already figured out.
"It's the least I can do after you skipped class to apologize. Iwaizumi pretends to be mean, but he's always been a big softy."
Hajime's knee pauses, a sinking feeling setting in as he starts putting the pieces together: the tea, the distance at the table, the light conversation that doesn't address any real feelings, the use of his full name again. Things are not going as well as he thought, after all. Damn it.
"That's not-" Hajime begins but Oikawa's already finished his next sip and he jumps in with that damn polite smile again.
"You don't have to worry though. You can't get rid of me that easily. You said we'd always be friends, so now you have to keep it up. I think there was a pinky swear involved."
"It was a spit-shake, but-" Hajime corrects, feeling his nervousness turning into a slight panic.
"I still can't believe you convinced me that was the only way to make our promises last. Disgusting," Oikawa says, making a face that doesn't show any real repulsion. "Are you staying with your parents tonight or going back? You have an early class tomorrow, right?"
Hajime doesn't know what to do, so he takes another sip of tea to think. This is bad. He's been misinterpreted. Oikawa's taken this all as a sign of Hajime trying to fix their friendship. He's taken it to mean that Hajime is apologizing for hurting his feelings and that he hopes they can stay friends, not that Hajime is here to confess that he feels the same. What's worse, he's showing all the signs that this weekend is just the start. Hajime feels the gnawing anxiety returning as he looks at Oikawa's polite smile setting more and more firmly into place with each sip of tea. He has that determined look in his eye to keep up the façade no matter what. The alien is back and Hajime doesn't know how to confess to him.
"I've got to use the restroom," Hajime says standing. The suddenness near sends the seat toppling over, but he manages to catch it before it does. Oikawa blinks owlishly, but nods as Hajime turns and marches determinedly to the bathroom down the hall.
"Hajime, you have to just say it. Suck it up and say it or you're never going to say it." He stares at himself in the mirror, scowl setting deeper and deeper into his face as he hisses to his reflection. "You'll both just go back to normal like you always do and he'll never know."
No, Hajime thinks as he splashes water on his face. No, they won't go back to normal, they'll go back to the new normal. That Oikawa who doesn't steal his food, doesn't bump into him as they walk, doesn't point out constellations and tell him the same story over and over again with his face so close that Hajime can feel his brown curls skating across his cheek. He reaches out for a towel, feeling around, but his hand lands on a paper instead. He squints his eyes open just enough to see what it is: available apartments in Tokyo, a few notes written down next to them.
Farther away from campus, but close to the bus stop.
Bit pricey, but balcony. Plants?
In price range, but neighborhood?
Hajime feels like he's been dunked in an ice bath. Oikawa Tooru is looking at listings to move out, without a word about it to Hajime. He can see the next few months in his mind's eye: Oikawa moving out, Oikawa's text becoming sparser and sparser, Oikawa dating someone (maybe Suzuki, that's who his mind supplies). Hajime watching, angry scowl in place. All because Hajime couldn't say what he came all the way to Miyagi to say.
Hajime moves from the bathroom back to the kitchen with a new determination. When he arrives, he finds that Oikawa has finished drying the cups and is typing on his phone, leaning against the sink with a slight smirk on his face. He looks up as Hajime enters the kitchen, the polite smile back on his face, tone teasing as he says, "So many missed calls, Iwaizumi. You're so overbearing. You'll never get a girlfriend at this rate!" His eyes drop back to the phone again.
Hajime takes a deep breath, taking another step forward. "I don't want a girlfriend."
"What a playboy." Oikawa's eyebrow quirks as he rolls his eyes. "I thought that was my reputation."
"Not a playboy," Hajime says. "I'm just not interested."
In a few more steps he is directly in front of Oikawa, who looks up again, his eyes widened slightly at Hajime's new proximity. The brown pupils dart to the left, then the right, then back to Hajime. There's nowhere to escape to. Oikawa flips the phone closed, back open, then closed again. Still, his tone comes out teasing as he leans back slightly, both hands grasping his phone to his chest.
"The date didn't go well?"
"It was okay, but I couldn't stop thinking about you."
It seems impossible for Oikawa's brown eyes to grow any larger, but they do. Oikawa opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again. He gulps, then tries again. He successfully manages to mutter, "Sorry," his eyes attempting to look anywhere except at Hajime, but Hajime isn't backing down this time. He isn't leaving Miyagi without saying what should have been said in high school or in middle school or for as long as he can remember. He takes a deep breath, steadying his will and praying Oikawa can't hear how loud his heart is pounding, even though it's practically all Hajime can focus on.
"I'm always thinking about you: on the train, on dates, in class when I should be paying attention- everywhere and all the time." His brown eyes are lock on Hajime's, a bit cross eyed because of their how close they are. Hajime can smell lavender shampoo and some deodorant, not the normal smells his best friend has, but not unpleasant.
"W-why," Oikawa breathes. It is so soft that if Hajime hadn't been hovering over Oikawa he probably wouldn't have heard it at all. This is it. This is the moment. Hajime takes another deep breath, breathing in Oikawa's scent before opening his mouth and- a pop song breaks through the conversation. They both look down at the phone clutched in Oikawa's hands like a shield, the name Suzuki Aito flashing on the screen. Hajime is really starting to hate that guy.
The pop song punctures his courage, a reminder of the outside world and insecurities flood into Hajime's mind: it's too late, he's moved on, you missed your chance twenty-times over. He releases his breath, taking a step back, allowing Oikawa enough room to open the phone again. Hajime kicks himself mentally as he turns away. The music stops, but the moment is lost. Why hadn't he just said it over the ringing? When was he going to get the courage again?
He feels a tug on his wrist. Oikawa's hand is wrapped there, holding him in place. Hajime's eyes move slowly, hopefully, from the hand, up the arm to see Oikawa watching him. Smile number 17 is long gone. Now there is only a questioning look, his eyes scanning across Hajime's face, searching for something as his teeth chew his lower lip. When he speaks the tone is so fragile that Hajime feels that one wrong move could shatter his friend standing before him.
"Are you leaving?"
This wasn't how he planned it, but Hajime has wasted years to get here, so he'll take what he can get. He turns, twisting his hand around to grab Oikawa's wrist. He tugs lightly and Oikawa stumbles the few steps forward into Hajime. He can feel Oikawa stiffen, but Hajime wraps his arms around Oikawa anyway, turning his face slightly into Oikawa's neck.
"No. I can't leave," Hajime admits. He gathers all of the courage he can muster from his two failed attempts so far and somehow manages to add, "Not until you know that I love you, Tooru."
There is an intake of breath, shakier than usual, but Hajime doesn't care because Oikawa wraps his arms around him and ducks his own head into Hajime's shoulder. The rush of warmth spreads throughout Hajime from his toes to his head.
"When-How-" Oikawa's muffled voice asks, but he seems to be as lost for words as Hajime has felt because he can't seem to finish his thoughts. Hajime pulls away slightly, glancing at Oikawa, whose brown hair is falling across his exposed face. Somehow knowing that he's said his confession and Oikawa hasn't pushed him away, hasn't fled entirely, hasn't scoffed and teased, makes Hajime more courageous. There may be a chance that he's not too late. There may be a chance to make up for lost time.
"When did I realize? When I got my memory back. For how long have I been in love with you?" Hajime hums in thought. Hajime thinks back to their graduation day when Oikawa pulled away from his crowd of fangirls to wave down Hajime, throwing his whole body weight on him as he wrapped his arms around Hajime's shoulders and teased him about being red eyed, even though Oikawa's eyes were red from crying as well. "Definitely in high school."
Oikawa raises his head slightly. Hajime considers the bright look of accomplishment on Oikawa's face as they walked home after the setter award ceremony, Oikawa leaning close to point at a passing satellite in the sky to relay a new theory on aliens that he'd been thinking about (instead of completing his homework).
"Most likely in middle school," Hajime continues, dropping his hand from Oikawa's waist, intertwining their fingers the way six year old Oikawa had when he tugged Hajime forward to hunt bugs, declaring that he would be Hajime's first human friend. "Probably from the first time we met."
"Are you sure?" Oikawa's eyes drop to their intertwined hands before moving back to Hajime's face. He's looking at him through long lashes as if hiding his embarrassment there, but the look only sends a thrill through Hajime as he considers seeing this Oikawa every morning, every afternoon, and every night.
"I'm sure, Tooru." There is an eyelash on his cheek, so Hajime reaches up with his free hand, resting his hand on Oikawa's warm face as he swipes the eyelash with his thumb. He hodls it out to explain, but Oikawa doesn't even glance at it. Instead he leans forward, wrapping his free arm around Hajime's waist, tugging him forward to close the remaining distance. They're mouths close on top of one another. Hajime lets his eyes drop closed, eyelash forgotten as he runs his hand from the back of Oikawa's neck up into his extraordinary soft brown hair, pushing them even closer, though it doesn't seem possible for any space to remain at this point.
The longer they kiss, the more real it seems to be. Hajime has successfully apologized and confessed and (the most surprising) Oikawa Tooru, who could be in love with and kiss anyone, is kissing him. There is a hurried quality to Oikawa's kisses, as if he had even less faith that this moment would happen. This thought makes the nearly forgotten guilt squirm in Hajime's stomach because if anything is impossible it's the idea that anyone could know Oikawa the way Hajime does and not fall in love with him completely. As if to prove it, Hajime meets his desperation with steady certainty, pushing them back a few steps until he has Oikawa caged against the wall. He pulls back slightly, for breath and to meet Oikawa's eyes as they open to gaze at Hajime.
"I'm not going anywhere," he mutters.
Oikawa's eyes widen again, as if he's confused how Hajime could answer a question he hadn't said aloud, as if that's a new trick they have and not one they've perfected since they were six years old. In response, Hajime peppers kisses across his cheeks, his forehead, down his neck before coming back to his lips that are soft and waiting for him to run his tongue over. Oikawa shivers slightly, using his hold on Hajime's shirt to steady himself as if his knees might give out at any moment. Hajime leverages the wall to keep himself upright.
After a few more minutes (or an hour, honestly Hajime isn't keeping track), Oikawa pulls back. It's sooner than Hajime would have liked, but they both use the opportunity to inhale fresh air.
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa says, running a hand down his back.
Hajime tries to communicate all of his fondness in his hummed response.
"Can we go home?"
Hajime drops his hand to intertwine their fingers again as Oikawa pushes himself from the wall. He all but drags Hajime through the house as he finds his glasses and collects his clothes, double checking he has Kenma's sweater, his phone, and his wallet. They leave a message for Miko before Oikawa tugs Hajime out the door.
They fall into step with one another, shoulder to shoulder, arms pressed together as they walk, as if the concept of personal space has never existed between them at all (and it hasn't really). Hajime's eyes keep dragging away from where they ought to be looking (on the road) to look at Oikawa, whose face is practically glowing in the growing darkness, a laugh like a bell tinkling from his lips as he recounts his lunch with Makki and Matsun. His hair (messy from Hajime's fussing with it) bounces as they walk. Hajime's eyes trace his face: across the brow, down the elegant arched nose, pausing on the slightly bruised lips. Hajime tries to absorb the radiance of Oikawa Tooru in this exact moment. The sound of his laughter, the smell of his lavender shampoo, the teasing tone, the nervous energy waiting to be released. Hajime wants to commit it all to memory in his mind and soul so it can never be forgotten again.
A/N: As always thanks so much to all the people reading & reviewing! There is one more chapter to go!