A/N: Discussions of abortion.

November 10th, 2012

"Say cheese!"

"Cheeese!"

The camera flashed, Naoko's eye twitching as she fought the urge to blink. She ended up sneezing instead. Noticing this, Iwaizumi held back a snicker unsuccessfully, feeling Oikawa tense up beside him when his boyfriend felt Iwaizumi tremble.

"Hay fever, Mako-chan?" Oikawa teased. Ever since Oikawa had left her for Iwaizumi, it'd been back to Mako-chan from Nacchan. Personally, Iwaizumi thought that he shouldn't have changed it. It just rubbed salt to the injury.

"Don't be ridiculous," Naoko said shortly, sniffing. "Dumb chihuahua."

"Lemme see!" Sumire was hounding the photographer, a random passerby, for Hanamaki's camera. "Tadashi, come check it out! Oh, and thanks a lot, sir."

Obediently, Makoshima Tadashi, the eldest of the Makoshima siblings, padded over to where his youngest sister was saying goodbye to the good Samaritan who had helped them take the photo, blond hair glowing under the sun. He was a quiet boy—well, man now, Iwaizumi supposed, seeing as he would be turning twenty in just over a week—with lanky limbs and a sharp jawline which he knew made Oikawa envious.

"It could grate cheese, Iwa-chan," Oikawa had said to him once, on the verge of pulling his perfectly coiffed locks out in frustration.

"Wow, it looks great," Matsukawa remarked as he and Hanamaki crowded around the two siblings. "Except you, Hiro—it looks like your eyes are closed."

Hanamaki scowled. "Shut up, man! It just be like that."

"Well, I, for one, think we all look wonderful," Sumire said, giggling. The youngest of the bunch, she was a mere thirteen years old.

"Except Hiro."

"I said shut up!"

Matsukawa switched targets. "Oikawa doesn't look too great either."

"Excuse you, Mattsun, but I look dashing. Right, Iwa-chan?"

While Iwaizumi would usually punch his arm for asking him to stroke his ego, he found himself pausing. Eventually, he said, "Yeah. You look good." You always do, Shittykawa.

Oikawa gaped, the rest of their group not far behind. Sumire had to pinch herself to check she wasn't dreaming and Naoko just seemed stunned and the change in attitude.

"What?" Iwaizumi growled. "Am I not allowed to be nice for once?"

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa mock-bawled, hugging him. "I love you so much!"

"Get off me, idiot!" They hadn't told anyone they were going steady, although Naoko, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki had surely figured it out by now. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, relenting and deciding to just wait for Oikawa to finish sucking his blood like the leech he was.

As Oikawa clung to him, Matsukawa and Hanamaki making obnoxious kissy faces, Iwaizumi locked eyes with Naoko, taken aback by what he saw.

In her dark eyes, there was sorrow.

But there was also peace.

November 3rd, 2019

It was a lovely Saturday morning—pale grey skies and a cool drizzle splashing over the front porch of the house. She stared at herself in the mirror, shame coiling in her gut and the dark circles around her eyes accentuated by the flickering bathroom light. Makoshima Naoko stood with her shoulders hunched at the sink, white singlet that belonged to someone else hanging on her slight frame.

Had she gotten thinner? Lost all the lean muscle she was proud of?

She palmed her cheek. It felt hot, but not feverish. She knew it was only so because her hands were ice cold.

Sitting in the sink, proclaiming all of her sins to callous gods—

Two lines.

Naoko pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. Calm down. You can handle this. You've faced worse things. Collecting the test from the basin and throwing it in the bin, she gave herself one last look into the mirror before ducking her head and washing her hands.

Scum.

Sighing, she made her way back to the bed they shared, pausing once in the hallway to allow discomfort to roil over her. Iwaizumi was still asleep, his chest rising and falling and his features slack and tranquil. For a moment, Naoko debated whether or not to wake him. But she knew if she didn't do it now, she might decide to hide it from him later on. Climbing into the empty space beside him—still warm from where she had lain beside him during the night—Naoko sat on her ankles and shook his arm. "Hajime. Hajime, wake up."

He stirred with a groan, turning over. The blankets twisted around his waist. He slept shirtless. "Nacchan?"

The nickname hurt, but she let it go. He was still half asleep, after all. "Positive."

Iwaizumi rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What are you...? Oh."

"I took it just then," Naoko told him. A beat. "Three times. I tested myself three times."

Maybe if she were more dramatic, she would have lamented about how the universe was out to punish her. Punish them. But neither of them had ever been the type to dress everything up in bells and whistles—that had always been more of Oikawa's thing. There was no greater being out there that sought their anguish. No—they'd brought it upon themselves this time because they hadn't been strong enough to fight their loneliness.

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, passing one hand through his mussed hair. It just made it stick up even more. "Are you going to keep it?"

"I don't know yet," Naoko replied, honestly. "Hajime—you know I don't love you, right? Not in the way that—"

"I know," Iwaizumi cut her off, "I don't love you either. Not like that."

Both of them had only ever loved one person in their lifetimes.

Oikawa was gone now, and they'd been left to pick up the pieces of their hearts, letting each shard slice their skin open without complaint. Naoko lowered her gaze, her hair curtaining her face. "If we keep it, then there's no going back."

"There's no going back either way," Iwaizumi pointed out.

Deep down, she knew it was true. Things had irrevocably changed between them the moment they had given into carnal desires. Things could have stopped after the first time—but they hadn't. They'd kept going and now they were paying the price for it.

To her ears, it sounded stupid as well. It was stupid, the way they felt that they'd been unfaithful to a dead man.

Naoko lay down on her back, one arm stretched across Iwaizumi's bare chest and raven hair fanning over her pillow. She blinked at the fan spinning lazily on the ceiling. "If I decide to keep it, will you marry me?" Why stop here? Neither of us will ever love anyone as much as we did Oikawa, so we might as well save ourselves the trouble.

Iwaizumi almost smashed his skull on the headboard. "I'm not in love with you."

"I know. We already went through that. But it might be worth a shot. Marriage has lots of financial benefits. If it doesn't work out, we'll just get a divorce."

He narrowed his eyes. "You would put a child through that? Just for tax deductions and joint medical coverage?"

She worried her lip. "Is divorce such a terrible thing for a child?"

Iwaizumi's eyelids drooped. "I don't know. But Mina's parents are divorced. Her father remarried. It put her through a lot of emotional turmoil during her preteen years."

Naoko mulled this over. Her own parents had died in an accident when she was very little. She couldn't remember exactly when—it had been so long—but she knew that she couldn't have been any older than thirteen when she was forced into a position to be the sole carer for her siblings. Her grandma had come into the picture and relieved her of her duties for a few years, but she had died not long after. She would never understand the anxiety and the trauma that came with divorce—her burdens had been too different. "I'll get rid of it, then," she said, slowly. "If it's going to suffer for all its life, then there's no point in keeping it."

"Wait."

"What?"

An indecipherable emotion flickered in his eyes. "How can you be so sure? That... it wouldn't work out?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"It's true I'm not in love with you," Iwaizumi said. "But it doesn't mean that I don't love you, Naoko. You're my... dearest friend."

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his. "Do you want to keep it, then?"

"I'm not sure either," he admitted. "But I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

Naoko hummed. "I see." She was stalling. Stalling for a solution. There was only one she could think of right now. "Ten weeks. That's how long into pregnancy I'll have to get a medically induced abortion. I'll go in for a scan this afternoon—they'll tell me how far along I am. But I suspect that I'm three weeks. Maybe four or even five..." Morning sickness typically started during the sixth week but she hadn't been feeling nauseous at all. "Before the tenth week... We'll make our decision. Together."

Iwaizumi regarded her. She could nearly see the gears in his brain turning as he did the math. "Alright," he agreed, at last. "Let's do it." Then he wrapped an arm around her back, drawing her closer to him. He was warm. Her toes curled as she pressed herself against him, the tension easing out of her body.

For a long while, they simply stayed there.

She broke the silence.

"I'll go make an appointment."

July 29th, 2018

The bouquet flew in the air. It made a wide arc, women screeching and pushing each other out of the way to try and grab the florets. At the altar, Kiyoko and Tanaka were oblivious to the chaos, the latter kissing the former deeply.

Standing beside him, Naoko—wearing a midnight blue dress—was clapping politely, gaze fixed on the couple. She wasn't at all focused on the flowers, completely taken by the passionate display.

The Tanaka wedding's guest list had grown exponentially from its initial size. In celebration of the victory against Hirakawa Daizen and HNN Foundation, invitations had been sent out to dozens upon dozens. The entirety of old Seijoh were in attendance—Iwaizumi and Naoko included. Somewhere behind him, he could hear Kindaichi whooping with his arm around his girlfriend.

Sakusa and Atsumu were here, too, but on the other side of the courtyard. It was an outdoor wedding.

Then Kunimi shouted: "Look out!"

Iwaizumi glanced up just in time to see the bundle of flowers making a straight beeline for him. Shouting in surprise, he opened up his arms and caught it, accidentally kicking his plastic chair back.

"Iwaizumi, you dog!" Yahaba crowed.

"Well, well," Naoko mused, giving Iwaizumi a once over. "How ironic."

Yes, how ironic that it would go to him—him, who would never love a man or woman like he had loved Oikawa. Iwaizumi held it out to her. "Here."

But she refused it. "No. Give it to someone else."

He wheeled around on his heel. "How about you, Kindaichi?"

Kindaichi's ears went red, as did Shino's. "Uh," he stuttered. "We've only been dating for a month—almost two, but y'know—"

"Relax." Iwaizumi chuckled. With all his might, he chucked it back to the sky, and the pandemonium resumed as guests fought for a second chance at love in the form of Kiyoko's bouquet. "There."

"Give it to me!" Okazaki Naoji was frothing at the mouth as he stepped over an older woman to try and obtain higher ground. "I'm not staying single any longer, goddammit!"

The noise faded away around him, leaving only him and the person in closest proximity to him left. Naoko peered at him. "Are you alright?"

The world expanded a little to include Kiyoko and Tanaka, both of whom were weeping in joy. Tanaka picked his new wife up and twirled her around, her beautiful white dress swaying with the motion. Beneath the happiness and goodwill he felt toward the couple lurked an unspoken yearning that sharpened its teeth on his bones.

It could've been him.

It could've been him and Oikawa, and Naoko could've caught the bouquet and Hanamaki could've teased her and Matsukawa could've told him off because now they were adults and they needed to be mature or else they would—

"I miss him," Iwaizumi confessed. "I—I wanted this. I wanted our lives to be like that." He nudged his head toward Kiyoko and Tanaka, bitterness welling up within him. "That should've been us."

"You and Tooru."

He nodded. "Me and Tooru."

Nine days since he had said goodbye to him and he still wasn't over him. Iwaizumi didn't think he ever would be.

Naoko sucked in a breath. "I miss him, too. Nothing... would've made me happier than seeing you two up there."

Iwaizumi smiled sadly. "Thank you."

He thought there was something else she wanted to say. But nothing else related to the topic came out of her mouth. Instead, she tugged him by the wrist and led him to the snack bar. "Come on. First come, first serve."

Some things never changed.

August — December, 2018

Things fell into tedium after the wedding. Iwaizumi stayed with his parents and his younger brother while he got his life sorted. Everyone else minded their usual business—after the summer holidays were over, Kindaichi and Kunimi dove back into their studies with renewed vigor. Yahaba moved back to Miyagi and into a boarding house with Kyoutani and a girl named Tsuji Runa. Matsukawa, Watari, and Naoko continued with their respective jobs. Occasionally, when she had the time, she would come all the way to Kosaka to see him, but her visits were rare.

Whose visits weren't so rare, however, were Sunano Mina's.

Iwaizumi didn't know how they weren't sick of each other by now—Satoshi and Mina saw each other practically every day at school and she would come over for dinner every other day.

She was here again tonight, bringing from home with her a pot of stew. Iwaizumi answered the door when she rang the bell.

"Good evening, Hajime-san!" she greeted him, chipper.

Iwaizumi gave her a genial smile. "Hey, Mina-chan. Come on in—it must be cold outside."

"Freezing," Mina affirmed as she stepped inside. "It's not even winter yet but the weather's already getting cold here. Kosaka always gets cold early. It's annoying, but the snow is beautiful."

Mina put the pot on the dinner table after politely greeting Futaba and Yoichi. Both his mother and father were at home tonight and cooking together. "Where's Satoshi?" she asked Iwaizumi as they set up the table.

"Showering," Iwaizumi answered with a snort. "He always does things last minute."

"Ugh, tell me about it. Getting him to stick to his study schedule is like pulling teeth." Despite the acid in her words, Mina was struggling to stifle a grin.

Iwaizumi softened. Satoshi was a lucky, lucky kid to have her willing to put up with him. Beneath his brother's prickly exterior, he knew that Satoshi adored Mina. He was just glad to see that the feelings appeared to be mutual.

They continued setting up the table, portioning everyone's rice and languidly placing down chopsticks, spoons, and soy sauce saucers. "So," started Mina. "What's been going on with you, Hajime-san?"

"Not much," Iwaizumi replied. "I've gotten two part-time jobs—one at Iwabuchi Fitness and the other at Lawson." His cashier position was quite boring—being trained as a personal trainer by old man Iwabuchi was much more fulfilling. Still, he was looking for something more than that. He'd started an online course so he would have qualifications to become a personal trainer—it would take him a year of study to complete. So far, that was going well, but he was eager to jump straight into the workforce as something more than a minimum wage worker.

Mina soured at the mention of Iwabuchi. "I hate that old man. He's so grumpy and I'm pretty sure he's hit Satoshi before."

"They box together," Iwaizumi said flippantly. Satoshi was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

"I know, but still. I don't like it when he gets hurt."

"Don't worry, Mina-chan," he reassured her, "It'll take more than a gloved punch to bring him down."

She relented. "I guess you're right. I should have more faith in Satoshi."

"Not too much, though," Iwaizumi quipped.

"Oh, definitely not." Mina looked up at him with her big violet eyes, a deep sadness suddenly filling them. What pained her eluded him until she opened her mouth once more. "Hajime-san, I think you should start seeing people."

Eh? What is she talking about? 'Seeing people'? "What do you—"

"I know a few girls who might be interested," Mina rambled on, nerves getting the better of her. "Kosaka's a small town, so I know most people around here and there are a bunch of college girls in the area—"

Iwaizumi gripped her shoulder. "Mina-chan, calm down." He considered his next words, wondering how he would tell Mina that he wasn't interested in meeting up with any of Kosaka's women. Her earnestness came from a good place—it would be hard to disappoint her. "Thanks, but I'm not looking to date anyone at the moment." Or ever, really. He couldn't see himself with anyone else except Oikawa. And he's gone now.

Mina nodded, understanding. Just when he thought she was going to subject, she asked, gingerly, "Is it because you like her?"

He put down the last pair of chopsticks in his hand at Satoshi's seat, tossing her a puzzled glance. "Hm?"

"Makoshima-san. You like her, don't you?"

Him and Naoko? Now, that was just laughable. Iwaizumi didn't even like women. He didn't think so, anyway. The idea of being with a woman wasn't repulsive to him, but the only person he'd ever loved like he did had been a man.

Well, a voice in his head whispered, If Oikawa had been a girl, you would've still loved him, wouldn't you?

Yes, he would have.

Bisexual people existed. Logically, Iwaizumi knew this, but he'd never entertained the idea of being one himself.

He pondered this notion over dinner, replying to his parents' attempts at conversation with halfhearted, but acceptable, answers. Oblivious to his sexuality crisis, they bobbed their heads along.

"The food is so good, Futaba-san!" Mina praised his mother's cooking. Satoshi, who was seated between Iwaizumi and his girlfriend, was pointedly avoiding Futaba's gaze. "I've never tasted fresher miso soup before."

Bless Mina and her icebreakers. Iwaizumi was not in the mood for conversation tonight and Satoshi was broody by default. The rift between him and Futaba hadn't lessened by any stretch, either, Satoshi content to let her suffer his lack of acknowledgement in silence. Without warning, Iwaizumi slapped him lightly upside the head, making his tofu fall back into his bowl.

"Ow!" he complained. "What was that for?"

"You were being a brat."

"I didn't say anything!"

"I got the seaweed from the local fish market," Futaba said, receiving Mina's praise in her mousy manner.

Mina nodded. "Mm! I can tell!"

Dinner faded into the background, Iwaizumi picking more at his rice than actually eating any of it.

"Makoshima-san. You like her, don't you?"

Something pleasant stirred in his chest.

But it wasn't the way it had been with Oikawa.

December 31st, 2018 — January 1st, 2019

"Three...

"Two...

"One...!

"Happy New Year!"

Yuda burst into noisy tears as the clock struck midnight, chugging a bottle of sake while Yahaba, Kyoutani, and Matsukawa whooped. "First drink of the goddamn year!" Yuda slurred, slamming the bottle down on the table.

"Hurry!" cheered Tsuji Runa, her face red with a bad case of Asian glow. "What's everyone's resolutions for this year?! I'm gonna lose fifteen pounds!"

"To crush our opponents!" roared Kyoutani, fueled by alcohol.

"Hell yeah!" screeched Yahaba, the rest of the Frogs screaming along with him.

Kyoutani stormed over to Iwaizumi, smirking. "Startin' with you, senpai."

Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, situating himself on the couch and drawing the table close. Oh, he knew exactly what Kyoutani wanted. "Bring it on, pup."

"Let's not get too overboard," Naoko warned as she approached them along with the rest of the party crowd, stopping to toss back a shot of vodka. All of Kyoutani's teammates had been invited, seeing as it was Koganegawa Kanji who was hosting the big bash.

Alcohol truly was a gem in this cruel world. Liquid courage was no joke. "Aren't you a hypocrite, Nacchan?" Iwaizumi goaded, cracking his knuckles as he prepared to arm-wrestle with Kyoutani.

Naoko snatched another shot from Tsuji, who whined. "Hmph. Maybe I am." She threw it back.

"I can't believe I'm taking shots with the Lunchtime Delinquent Princess," Tsuji said, her voice pitching into another unbearable whine. She got bratty whenever she drank.

"Shut up, Tsuji."

Kyoutani's clammy hand clasped Iwaizumi's, the two men sneering at one another. The world was all bright flashes and sparkles, the alcohol making his head spin. Somehow, throughout it all, he managed to stay steady. He felt all the muscles in his arm bulge at the same time was Kyoutani's. He had gotten stronger over the years with his professional volleyball training, but Iwaizumi hadn't exactly been sitting around all day during the time he spent incarcerated. Even now, six months out of prison, Iwaizumi had a regular exercise routine.

Under the dim lights, Iwaizumi could see traces of sweat beading on Kyoutani's forehead.

The younger man gritted his teeth, a vein popping in his cheek as he desperately tried to stop Iwaizumi from crushing his hand against the surface.

Vaguely, he could hear the cheers of his friends around him. Most of them were total strangers, though—friends and acquaintances of the outgoing Koganegawa.

Their cries grew even louder when Iwaizumi won, slamming Kyoutani's hand down.

The crowd went wild. "YEAHHHHHH!"

"Ladies and gentleman!" Yahaba lifted up Iwaizumi's arm, and he automatically clenched it into a fist of victory. "Your arm-wrestling champion, Iwaizumi Hajime! Who dares to challenge him next?!"

A few brave fools volunteered. Iwaizumi went through them like cannon fodder. When no more men volunteered, Iwaizumi thought he was done for the night, but someone sat down in front of him.

"Ooohhh!" Tsuji gasped. "The arm-wrestling champion versus the Lunchtime Delinquent Princess!"

"Delinquent Lunchtime Princess, actually," Naoko corrected easily, smirking and holding her arm out. "You ready to lose?"

Iwaizumi scoffed. "In your dreams, Nacchan."

What happened next, he could not entirely recall. He could not recall who won, only that it was loud, sweaty, and shiny. And then the next thing he knew, he felt hands pushing him into the adjacent room with someone. Then it was all softness pressed against his chest, waves of pleasure rocking down his hips and legs and hard mattress digging into his back. The scent of alcohol was overpowering—and it wasn't just for him.

He called his name as he came.

"Oikawa."

He woke up the next morning nursing a hangover.

Shirt on the floor.

Pants discarded.

Paling, he grabbed the sheets and sat up, staring at the fight of Naoko pulling up her underwear. "Oh." She blinked at him, and maybe he would have believed her to be nonchalant had he not noticed the way her ears flushed brightly in embarrassment. "Shit."

"Shit," he echoed, unable to say anything else. "That was—"

"That was a mistake," Naoko finished. He nodded, lips pressing into a grimace. "Right. This changes things between us, but I'm sure things'll be back to normal soon."

"Yeah, me too. This won't happen again."

Naoko looked like she was about to agree, in the middle of buttoning up her shirt, but then she frowned, thoughtful. "Why not?"

"Didn't you just say it was a mistake?"

"I know. But still—why not?"

He caught the implication. They were both lonely. Both deprived.

But he had no good answer for her. "It just won't."

She shrugged. "Alright, then."

They both lied.

November 3rd, 2019

"I'll go make an appointment."

Naoko slid out of the sheets and out the door.

It clicked shut behind her.

Iwaizumi threw his arm over his eyes.

Fuck.

A/N: Okay, I'm back after, like, 2 months lmao. Was super busy with uni (still am, but I had a bit of a reprieve tonight) and had a case of writer's block while I was reworking the sequel a bit.

Up next: SakuAtsu discover dead bodies and see a strange kid