Chapter 3
(Took our broken hearts) Put them in a drawer

23rd of September, 2015
Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium

He had perfect notion of the game, perfect vision, perfect perception of every little detail around him. It was almost like time had frozen and he could, calmly, look around and see who was where. It was one of their best-synchronised attacks. Five spikers against three blockers wasn't fair. And it was even less fair when the one manipulating the game was Oikawa himself. He knew where the USA team was and he knew exactly to whom and how to toss the final ball. Sakusa's spike was flawless and Oikawa never felt so good with the sound of the ball smashing the court on the opposite side.

Arms and loud screams were around him in a heartbeat. Strong hands grabbing and pulling his jersey and voices shouting winning words at his ears. He opened an utterly satisfactory grin as he hugged his teammates back. Even the distant Ushijima was there, in the middle of the limbs and euphoria mess. Oikawa felt those large and calloused hands hold his skull, long fingers tangling into his sweaty hair, as Ushijima's dark olive eyes sparkle directly at him.

"I was fucking right about you!" he stated in his deep voice, a rare smirk showing up on his usually stoic face. "You should have come to Shiratorizawa before! We could hav-"

"Seriously, Ushiwaka!" Oikawa laughed, punching Ushijima's shoulder softly, watching as the other man also falls into a rare laugh. It was so out of character to see Ushijima Wakatoshi laugh and make jokes but… they just won Worlds! Happiness and excitement and that pure bliss of joy were all over them.

It was a whirl in between that final spike and the dinner at the fancy restaurant the team had reserved for the night. Everyone was loud and cheerful and, after a couple of hours, Oikawa felt like he could finally sneak out without being noticed. Ushijima saw him, of course he did, but he kept quiet and, mentally, Oikawa thanked him for that.

The taxi drive took less than 20 minutes and it was only when Oikawa caught himself at the entrance of Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department that he actually thought exactly what the fuck he was doing! His body acted on impulse, taking over his mind when his former kouhai's text message arrived and letting his subconscious rule. He checked his phone when he exited the taxi. 9.02PM.

He just had to wait.

Leaning against a three in between the entrance of the Police Department and the entrance of Sakuradamon Metro Station, Oikawa had time to clear his mind. The street was practically empty and the rain that started to fell was so soft it couldn't penetrate the canopy of trees around him. Oikawa sighed and tilted his head back. He knew what he was doing, he had waited twelve bloody years for it! And he was not going to back off. He had wanted to do it so many times before… when he made National Team at the age of 18, when he became the regular setter on the year after, when they won the Asia Championship and when he was named Captain of the team at the age of 25. He wanted to do it so bad, just forget about the past and about stupid - stupid! - teenager dramas and ridiculous pride and just do it!

But every time he was about to step out of the gymnasium, every time he was about to press the call button, the very same words came bursting into his mind. Win fucking Worlds. Wet, hurt, painful green eyes staring back at him and Oikawa's heart would ache. It would ache so much, he had to return to his routine of not caring, of not remembering, of pretending that it never happen. He would step back and walk inside the gymnasium, back to his fellow team players. A fake smile on his face and another fissure opening slowly on his heart.

Not that time.

No, not this time. This time he had won Worlds! He had done all that there was to do, all his dreams came true, all his ambitions fulfilled, all he ever imagined… done. So, no, he was not backing off. He could not back off, he would not! Their last fight was carved in his mind and he knew - oh yes, he knew - that if he had a chance, a minimum chance, of solving things between them… that was it.

Oikawa waited, protected from the rain by the canopy of leaves above him. He just stood there and waited, checking his phone every now and then, ignoring the absurd quantity of Line messages he got from his team players after they realised he had gone missing. The group chat they kept in between the National Team was full of complains and assumptions that he had just left to meet with a woman. Or two.

"Or five!" Nishinoya wrote and Oikawa hissed at the text, ignoring it.

He noticed, then, by the corner of his eye, a dark figure exiting the Police Department building. He wanted to laugh at how lame it was that his stomach was suddenly overflowing with butterflies. Iwaizumi turned on his direction and started to walk slowly, his head partially covered by the black umbrella. Oikawa watched, with attentive and wistful eyes, as Iwaizumi unsuspiciously approached him.

The National Team Captain released a breath he didn't notice he was holding. He had seen Iwaizumi a couple of times during that gap time. Far away at a park, or at a restaurant, or at a shopping department, but he had never walked close enough to actually see Iwaizumi in detail. (And because Oikawa would never admit that all those occasions were not exactly coincidences and he couldn't dare to step close.) Iwaizumi looked good, honestly good. He had grown up a bit after High School and gained some more defined muscle in the Police Academy that allowed that tailored suit he was using to fit him like a glove. He had also gained a sense of style, using good suits and vests, giving him a classic figure that, as Kindaichi had mentioned once during a former Seijou meeting, made him a success among women.

Iwaizumi was grown up, responsible, handsome and elegant and Oikawa barely believed it was honestly his best friend. How did the silent and frowning Iwaizumi become such a gallant gentlemen? He was almost jealous. Almost.

Oikawa saw the other man looking up when he was no more than 7 meters from him and then, he tilted the umbrella forward to close it. He tensed and Oikawa knew he had been seen. Not just seen, but also recognised. Iwaizumi knew he was there and that, somehow, made a warm buzz spread in his chest. Slowly, he saw the man turning to his direction, umbrella lowered enough so their eyes could meet.

God, Oikawa thought, but those green eyes were still so incredibly full of emotion he was almost overwhelmed. None spoke for what felt like an eternity as Oikawa's mind was suddenly at peace. No fear, no hesitation, no tortuous memories or anguish. He just felt… right.

An honest smile lighted upon his lips and he watched Iwaizumi's eyes widening and he could swear he heard the Inspector's heart skipping a beat. Or completely stop.

"Iwa-chan..." Oh, that name... It felt so nostalgic and gentle out of the sudden. So precious. "I won Worlds."

There was no answer to that, but, honestly, Oikawa was not expecting one. He kept his smile on his face as he was so damn happy and he couldn't even tell why. He didn't know how Iwaizumi was going to react, he didn't know he was going to even acknowledge him at all, but… it all just felt right. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the most intense game of his life together with the fact that his best friend was finally - finally! - in front of him, looking at him. Oikawa couldn't tell. But it just felt so right and he was so happy he couldn't prevent his smile from spreading into a fully breathtaking vision.

The umbrella was forgotten on the floor when Oikawa leant forward, stepping away from the tree, and closed their distance. Iwaizumi was reactionless, just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes never leaving Oikawa's figure. They were about a step apart when Oikawa noticed Iwaizumi inhaling deeply like he was resetting his lungs, forcing them to work again. I'm still taller than him, Oikawa thought fondly, but by less than those 5 centimeters we had back then.

"We played against the USA team. Those bastards were quite good," he kept talking, like what he was saying matter at all. He felt like he could do it, just talk about the game, how it was, how he felt before such a powerful adversary, how his team was so focused. He felt like those twelve years never really existed and he was, all over again, meeting his best friend after a game he couldn't attend when they were 17. "Ushiwaka-chan even got annoyed by one of their middle blockers. Can you believe that guy?! Poker face during the entire championship and, on the finals, he decides to go and be a normal human!"

Iwaizumi walked past him.

Oikawa's eyes widened in shock when he turned around to follow Iwaizumi and saw him hailing a taxi. No, no, no! He couldn't leave. That was not how it was supposed to go! Not how he planned! Iwaizumi was not supposed to ignore him, he couldn't ignore him! He won Worlds! He did all he had to do! Why would he-

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa cried when he saw a taxi stopping in front of Iwaizumi and the door open automatically. "Don't le-"

"There's a good and private sushi restaurant about 10 minutes from here." Iwaizumi hissed, entering the taxi, never looking at Oikawa.

He left the door open. Oikawa followed him inside.

xxx

Iwaizumi couldn't shake off the feeling of being completely lost. Lost between words and emotions and memories. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to yell and to clarify. He wanted to punch Oikawa in the face and tell him that they were not ok! That Oikawa couldn't disappear from Iwaizumi's life for twelve fucking years and, out of the blue, just drop by his work and pretend that bloody decade never happened! He wanted to tell Oikawa how that was not how things work! Not how friendships works and how much - how so damn bloody much - he was hurt and he didn't want to smile and ignore it all!

But Oikawa was there, sat right next to him, their knees brushing slightly. He was there and he was talking and laughing and flashing his goddamn perfect smile around and Iwaizumi's mind was blank. So he listened to Oikawa tell him about his life and his team and how boring Ushijima is because he never goes to the cinema with Oikawa to watched an alien movie. "Not even the new Star Wars he wants to go see, I don't think this is normal, Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi also listened to how Takeru was now the ace of Aoba Jousai volleyball club, how Oikawa's sister was doing very well in her big job position and how his parents were considering a vacation to Thailand for some beach time.

After the second bottle of sake, Iwaizumi started to talk back and that only made Oikawa more eager. "You didn't watch the game? It was the final of the Asian Championship, Iwa-chan! And we won! How come you didn't watch the game?" From then on, it became a conversation instead of a one sided rant about Oikawa Tooru's life and it felt good. So good and so right that Iwaizumi was honestly starting to wonder if they really parted ways, all those years before. If that was not only a stupid dream he had and the truth was that Oikawa had always been there. It felt like it. And damn… how much Iwaizumi liked that feeling.

Oikawa's hand was on his shoulder when they left the sushi restaurant, about two hours later. He was still laughing and talking about random moments of his life, the good and the bad ones. Iwaizumi opened his umbrella again since the rain hadn't stopped. Oikawa sneaked under it and opened a grin when Iwaizumi glared at him. It was all too warm, too comfortable, too… them. Iwaizumi's mind was a whirl and he… he just really wanted to let that feeling last a bit longer. Just a bit longer. It couldn't hurt, right? To pretend it was all ok?

"Hey, my place is 7 minutes from here, by taxi," Oikawa said, casually, pointing at a specific direction while his left arm was almost laced with Iwaizumi's. "Come over? I can show you the games you missed and-"

"No." But it did hurt after all, and he couldn't ignore it. Iwaizumi stopped walking. They were in the middle of Ginza district, with the lights of the fancy stores and the late night drivers passing by. Oikawa was suddenly at a loss for words and just stared at Iwaizumi. "I'm not going over to your place."

"But we just-"

"We're not ok, Oikawa!" he declared, certain and strong and tried his best to keep his posture while looking directly into those widened hazel eyes. His heart cracked with a deep fissure. "You can't do this! You can't disappear from my life, completely forget about me and then just show up and assume we're ok!"

"I never forgot about you, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa stated, his voice dropping to a lower, more urgent tone. The air was heavy. The rain seemed more intense and the humidity was starting to stuck on their skin. It was hot and bothersome and hard to breathe. And, somehow, Iwaizumi felt it had nothing to do with the weather.

"But you were gone," the Inspector sighed and looked away, his expression sad. "You were gone from my life. I called, wrote, left messages. I waited outside your dorm for hours and hours, but you never let me see you again. You were gone. And just because now you're back… that doesn't mean we're ok."

"We just had an amazing dinner! Why would you-"

"Because I'm stupid!" he hissed, turning to look at Oikawa again, the urgency and harshness gripping on his tone. "I'm stupid and I… just wanted to play along when you decide to show up and smile at me like nothing happened. But I can't!" he watched as Oikawa's mouth contorted and his face turned into a pained expression that had been so long since Iwaizumi had last seen it. Why was his heartbeat so uncontrollably loud? "It's been years… we're different people, I'm a different man. I can't just do this."

"But…" Oikawa hesitated, and Iwaizumi saw how much the setter's hands were trembling. God, how much he hated all that stupid situation. "But you said… back when… it's… Goddamnit!" and then, he was close, too close, a hand on Iwaizumi's arm, hurt eyes piercing the inspector's soul. It was Oikawa without barriers, without masks, without fake smiles and sweetened voice. It was Oikawa raw and crude and broken. "I won Worlds! With a wrecked knee! I won the fucking World Championship of Volleyball! Why can't you come back to me?"

Iwaizumi froze. Left hand holding the umbrella, right grabbing Oikawa's wrist that was pulling them closer together. His green eyes widened and fixed on those turbulent hazel ones. There was pain and sorrow carved into Oikawa's expression. Breathless, hopeless attempts at keeping the masks up, only to have them shattering and the smithereens flying with the night wind.

A cold shiver ran down Iwaizumi's spine and he cursed, mad. His throat hurt, his stomach hurt, his mind was dizzy and his heart… his heart was bleeding. Bleeding for all the times he tried and failed to save Oikawa, for all the times he left his own self behind, for all the times he prayed for him instead, for all the times he just wished Oikawa would hear him… and he thought the other never did.

"I won Worlds!" And they were no longer in the middle of Ginza district with a metro station a few steps away and an expensive scarf boutique behind them. They were back in Miyagi, back to being 17, back to the street between their parents' houses, back to the graduation night. "What else do you want me to do? I won Worlds!" Raw Oikawa, crude, pained, despaired, tortured Oikawa. "I joined the National Team… I won Worlds!"

Something warm and wet rolled down Iwaizumi's face without him even noticing it was coming. He saw Oikawa's eyes shadowing with worry and the setter's hands on his face, cleaning the liquid salt away from his skin. Oikawa muttered something, but Iwaizumi didn't listen. He covered his mouth with his free hand and hid his eyes away.

The whirl was growing bigger and stronger and his anger gave away to something else. His heart was wrecked and tortured, bled out and burnt. He was exhausted and drained of any capacity to play that game. Only it was no game. He swallowed dry, his throat hurting and his breathing faltering. And he bit his lip, almost drawing blood before he exhaled in a shattered pace.

"Oikawa…" he muttered in a voice that he hadn't used in over ten years, feeling his heartbeat hurting his chest, his stomach twisting in agony, his mind overheating and shutting down - again. And all he wanted was to be back in time. With a happy and smiling and innocent Oikawa at his side.

Was that too much to ask?

"Iw-" Oikawa started, but his voice failed him when he felt Iwaizumi's free hand on his hair, caressing those rebel and fluffy locks away from surprised eyes and flushed cheeks. And teary green eyes, filled with so much emotion, broke Oikawa's heart.

"You won Worlds…" Iwaizumi whispered, like a secret, a confession, with the purest smile he had ever displayed, watching as Oikawa's eyes widened and a flash of too many meanings crossed his irises. "You won wor-"

He never finished his sentence. Oikawa's hands were on his face again and Oikawa's fingers were on his hair and on his nape and Oikawa's breathing was on his. They were 17 again, and again their noses bumped and their teeth clashed. And this time was Oikawa the one swallowing the groan from Iwaizumi's throat as their lips locked and they lost their minds.

To be continued

A.N.: "Took our broken hearts / Put them in a drawer" - Welcome to New York, 1989 by Taylor Swift

Oikawa is not a sane person. No, he's not (◍•₃•◍) I promise more details on how much he is not sane… soon x3
I'm honestly trying my best to write this fic as fast as possible but did you know that being a grownup sucks? Bah!
I'll be answering reviews on tumblr for next chapter, I'll link it here on chapter 4 :) And talking about chapter 4… some good smut is coming Wuahahaha!

I'll be happy to have you follow me on twitter: ahakira_

Or tumblr: ahahkira dot tumblr dot com

Akira