The volleyball practice match would be the first time Iwaizumi saw Oikawa since they'd left for their respective colleges, Oikawa to Waseda, and Iwaizumi to Keio, six months ago.

It was weird, living without Oikawa over his shoulder every day. Iwaizumi had felt so confused after graduation, facing the loss of a presence he'd had at his side for as long as he could remember. He didn't know who he was without him, so he took their separation as an opportunity to take a step back from their relationship and view it with an objective, clear mind, and one thing became startlingly, annoyingly clear, very quickly:

He was in love with his best friend.

He may have panicked and stopped taking Oikawa's calls for a while. Eventually the incoming calls and texts dwindled and stopped altogether, and by then it had been too long since they'd talked that the prospect of calling was awkward and a big deal in a way it never should have been–

And now, Iwaizumi was on the bus to Waseda for a practice match whether he was ready to see Oikawa or not.

He was leaning on the side of ready. The six months apart had put his greatest worry to rest, that he only thought he was in love with Oikawa because they'd been together so long and he didn't know how to live without him. Six months and Iwaizumi was still there, still fine, still moving forward and making friends, but he missed Oikawa. He missed him so goddamn much. Fuck. How did Oikawa still manage to be so annoying and bothersome when he wasn't even there?

There was a swirling pit of nerves and something like excitement in the pit of Iwaizumi's stomach because he was going to see Oikawa again.

They unloaded into the gym, and there he was, tall and proud, setting to his players in a warmup spiking exercise. His sets were perfect. His form was perfect. He was fierce and beautiful and confident. They met eyes across the net–

And they were not the warm brown that Iwaizumi remembered.

They were cold and dull, and Oikawa looked away quickly. There was no 'Iwa-chan!' There was no smile, and there was no acknowledgement.

Iwaizumi watched most of the game from the bench, because he hadn't quite managed to snag a place on first string in his freshman year like Oikawa had, but during the few times they were across the net from each other, Oikawa very pointedly avoided looking at him.

Oikawa's team won by a mile, and Iwaizumi's team did a lap of flying receives. Then, it was time to go.

And he hadn't even gotten to say anything.

"Coach," said Iwaizumi, his bag slung over his shoulder. "I'm actually meeting with a friend here, if that's all right."

"I'm not your mother," said Coach. "As long as you're at practice on Monday."

Iwaizumi did a quick bow in thanks and hurried off towards where he saw the Waseda team disappear into the locker rooms. He stood outside, tapping his foot–

And the door opened.

There were two players from the Waseda team, one with messy black hair and an untrustworthy grin–one of the middle blockers–and one with white and black hair and wide, earnest eyes–he was the spiker that kept hitting those killer cross shots–Bokuto, he remembered someone calling him.

"And the rice ball was so cute," said Bokuto, "it looked just like an owl! With cute little eyes and cute little ears– Guess what the ears were made from! Guess!"

A resigned sigh from the middle blocker. "What?"

"Almonds! Now guess what the eyes were made from! Guess how he made the rice on its belly look different from the rest–"

"Bo, you're killing me."

"Ah, excuse me," said Iwaizumi, and the boys stopped and turned around. "Uh, is Oikawa still in there?" Because if he'd left already, then Iwaizumi didn't have a clue how he'd go about finding him. He was painfully unfamiliar with the Waseda campus, and all he had to go on was that Oikawa had a room in one of the sports dorms.

The two pairs of eyes on him were unsettling, wide gold that stared into his soul, and an analytical hazel.

"You know Oikawa?" asked the middle blocker.

"Friends from high school."

Those hazel eyes narrowed. "Got a name?"

"Iwaizumi."

"Are you by any chance the famous Iwa-chan?" Iwaizumi nodded, and the middle blocker's face went feral. "Then no, Oikawa's not here."

"What are you talking about, Kuroo?" asked Bokuto. "Oikawa's still–"

Kuroo stepped on Bokuto's foot, who yelped. "Like I said. Not here."

Iwaizumi frowned. "I need to talk to him."

"Yeah, well, a lot of people need a lot of things."

"If he's in there–"

"He isn't," said Kuroo, "and even if he were, he wouldn't want to speak to you."

"This isn't any of your business," said Iwaizumi. "He's my best friend–"

"Some best friend," said Kuroo with a sneer, "ignoring him for months."

Iwaizumi's stomach dropped.

"He doesn't want to see you," said Kuroo, crossing his arms. "So you can just make your merry little way back to Keio and forget you ever came here, just like you forgot about him."

Then the door opened, and Oikawa stepped out in his team jacket before and froze, his eyes locked on Iwaizumi and flashing with panic. "Iwa-ch– Iwaizumi."

The stumble over his last name was painful and raw and Iwaizumi flinched.

"I'll… um… meet you guys at your apartment," said Oikawa.

Kuroo's brow furrowed. "Oikawa–"

"I'll only be a minute! And Bo-chan," he said, turning to Bokuto, "you should make that pretty setter of yours a bento in return, as thanks."

Bokuto lit up. "I should!"

Kuroo touched Oikawa on the shoulder. "Call us if you need us," he said quietly, and Oikawa nodded. Kuroo threw Iwaizumi one last glare before he and Bokuto turned and left.

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi with a blank, indecipherable gaze. Iwaizumi had never been on this side of Oikawa's walls before.

It was terribly lonely.

Oikawa started walking deeper into campus, not bothering to check if Iwaizumi was following. The campus was beautiful, with simple, strong architecture and green grass.

Iwaizumi hurried to catch up. "You played well today," he said. "You made first string. Congratulations."

"Mm."

"Your teammates seem… interesting."

Oikawa hiked his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Do you like your coach?"

Oikawa shrugged.

"Oikawa," said Iwaizumi with a sigh. "Would you please talk to me?"

"Talk to you?" Oikawa's voice was sharp. Dangerous. "I tried to talk to you, Iwaizumi. I tried for months. So just–" his voice broke. "Go back to Keio."

"Oikawa–"

"You didn't have to pretend to be my friend, you know."

"What?"

"Tolerating me, humoring me, because I was convenient, because I was there. You didn't have to do that."

"Is that what you think?" asked Iwaizumi, anger rising. "That our entire friendship was– what, made up? That sixteen years of our lives was just me humoring you?"

Oikawa rounded on him, meeting his eyes with fire. "Well then what am I supposed to think? The second you were able drop me, you did. Was it a relief, to finally get rid of me?"

"What? No, that's not–"

"I called you," Oikawa snarled. "I texted you every day. You. You gave up on me. You stopped talking to me. You threw away sixteen years of history, not me."

"I needed some time," said Iwaizumi, desperate. "I needed to think–"

"And you couldn't have said that?" yelled Oikawa. "You didn't think telling me that might have been better than ignoring me for months? Screw you, Iwaizumi."

Watching Oikawa's back as he walked away, Iwaizumi panicked. "I did it because I realized I was in love with you!"

Oikawa froze.

"And I couldn't– You know how bad I am with that kind of stuff," said Iwaizumi. "I just… I needed some time."

"That's not fair."

"It's true."

"That's not fair," said Oikawa, turning back around, his eyes shining. "You are so unfair! Do you think that's a redeeming excuse? That because you say you love me–"

"I do–"

"–that means what you did was okay? My best friend dropped me like I meant nothing. You don't– You don't do that to people you love, Iwaizumi! You don't leave them alone and let them doubt everything you've ever gone through together! You don't let them face a scary new world alone! I needed you! Did you know that I had to change roommates because my first one was a homophobe who locked me out of my room every night? How do you think I felt when the one person I could always go to about anything suddenly hated me?"

"I don't– I never hated you!"

"How was I supposed to know that!?" Oikawa was crying now, big, fat, horrible tears. "You left me, Iwaizumi. So just go! Leave! You were fine without me for six months, you'll still be fine without me again!"

But Iwaizumi wasn't fine. He was miserable. He'd been miserable for six months, and he would be miserable for the rest of his goddamn life if he didn't have Tooru in it. "I won't."

"Don't–" Oikawa's voice cracked.

"Please listen to me, Oikawa," said Iwaizumi. "Please just imagine how I felt, for a second. We've been best friends for years. Our whole lives. The thought of changing what we are… The thought of you finding out how I felt…"

"Oh, please," sneered Oikawa, "that's what you're going to go with? You're a fucking coward."

Anger flared in Iwaizumi. "You aren't even trying to understand–"

"Understand how terrifying loving your best friend is? I've been dealing with that shit for years. I understand. I understand more than you, because I never let it rip us apart!"

Iwaizumi blanched. "You–" He couldn't be telling the truth. There was no way he was telling the truth. "You didn't–"

"What, are you telling me how I feel, now?" asked Oikawa, low and dangerous. "I didn't need to ignore you for six months to find out that I was in love with you, Iwaizumi."

"Tooru, please–"

"If we hadn't had a practice match, would you have visited? Called? Texted?" asked Oikawa. "Or would you have waited to confess to me the next time we were forced to be in the same room together? Maybe our ten year high school reunion?"

Iwaizumi's throat felt raw. "You loved me all this time?"

Oikawa's face went red. "That's– Did you listen to anything else I just said?"

Iwaizumi sank to his knees and shoved his face in his hands.

"Iwa… Iwa-chan?"

"I'm such a fucking idiot. You… Oikawa, I am so sorry."

The silence that followed was so long, Iwaizumi was sure Oikawa had left.

"You apologized." Iwaizumi almost didn't register Oikawa's voice in its softness. He looked up. "You just kept making excuses, before," said Oikawa, looking so lost. "But you finally apologized."

"Shit. I meant to– God, I'm such a–"

"Six months."

Iwaizumi's breathing hitched.

"You have six months to make it up to me," said Oikawa. "If you… if you love me like you say you do–"

"I do–"

"Then waiting another six months shouldn't be a problem for you."

"Anything," said Iwaizumi.

"Then… start with being my friend again?" And fuck. Fuck. Oikawa shouldn't sound so fucking sad and it was all his fucking fault–

"Can I hug you?" Iwaizumi croaked. "Please. I just really fucking missed you. I love you. I love you. And I missed you. I missed you so much."

Oikawa nodded, his bottom lip trembling–

And Iwaizumi jumped up to engulf him in a giant, desperate hug–

Oikawa started sobbing.

I love you.

I missed you.

The promise of a future, and the weight of the past.