Oikawa sips at his coffee idly in the shop, staring at his laptop pensively. His life had slipped back into routine the past few weeks and he embraces it. Assimilating back into Japan is a bit more difficult than he had originally thought, but nothing he can't handle.
He's moved into his apartment in the heart of Tokyo. A simple one bedroom, one bath, but in a great location, right near the metro. Getting to work is a breeze. It's currently sparsely decorated, but only because he hasn't had the chance to buy new furniture. Only the bare necessities. He has plans though. Wonderful plans, to decorate the place into his new home.
Work is nice. Being his charming self is much easier when he knows the language by heart, and slipping into his confident persona again is like slipping on your favorite jacket you thought you lost forever ago. It just feels right. Feels like home.
His coworkers seem like good people too. He's been out drinking with a couple of them. Unfortunately none of them are lookers. Well, the one lady is quite the catch, with a sharp witty tongue and sweet smile. Michimiya, is her name. He doesn't know much about her, other than that she worries a bit too much. He'd like to get to know her better. But he's come to realize over the years that he is much more partial to men than women. Still, she seems like a worthy friend.
Everything seemed to be falling into place. He was happier, more fulfilled, less pitiful. Less clingy of the past. He was finally beginning to move on. And it wasn't as if he had always been so pathetic. In fact, a good majority of his years in the U.S. had been fantastic, filled with playing on one of the best teams in the world. It was only recently that he had fallen into such a deep pit of self-loathing. But he was pushing past it again. Because Oikawa Tooru refuses to stay down for too long.
He types up another work email, taking another sip of his coffee. He glances up from his screen, yawning a little. It's early morning and Oikawa is not a morning person at all. However, he'd had trouble sleeping the night before, tossing and turning and lying awake. And finally at five am he had decided to give up and get up.
He didn't have a coffee maker at home, a luxury he had grown used to in America, but the coffee shop was right by his apartment so he had decided to be at least a little productive and venture out towards the little shop and tackle some work e-mails. He didn't have to get on his train for work for another hour or so anyway.
It's becoming a more reasonable hour, and the morning rush is starting to fill the tiny spot. The line is growing, filled with suited businessmen and women, high school students with their bags and the occasional parent toting a napping toddler in their arms.
Oikawa watches them a moment, amused, before turning back to his e-mail. He needs to get in touch with a few other departments about their current project. He needs to focus. But the sigh of high schoolers in their pristine uniforms brings a small ache to his heart.
He was getting better. Better at moving on. But not completely. He'd spent almost ten years not thinking about him-almost. It was only recently that a certain someone had been consuming his thoughts. That a certain event opened the heartbreak and can of worms he'd worked so hard to bury deep deep down.
He was being childish.
He should call him.
It would be the adult thing to do.
Oikawa glances at his phone, swiping it open to reveal the note app with seven digits marked down and the name Iwaizumi Hajime typed out underneath. He stares at it and feels his stomach churn. He bites his lip before letting out a sigh and turning back to his computer.
He had gotten the number from Kindaichi a few weeks ago, back when he was still visiting his parents in Miyagi. It makes him a bit nauseous to look at the numbers, taunting him from the small screen. It makes him a bit sick to think of the memory. Sick enough to throw up.
The first thing Oikawa notices is that Kindaichi has cut his hair. It is no longer gelled up to a comical height, warranting the nickname of turnip head. Rather, the strands are casually slicked up, as if brushed through with his fingers only. It looks good on him. It looks a bit like Iwaizumi did.
Oikawa swallows, but puts on a charming smile, if only a bit tight at the edges.
Kindaichi is stiff and nervous, and looks as awkward as he'd always been. It's nice. It had felt as though everything around him had changed. But it's nice to know that Kindaichi's personality remained as he remembered.
"Oikawa-san it's good to see you." Kindaichi starts, dipping his head down slightly. Oikawa chuckles, waving him off.
"Oikawa is fine." The ex-captain smiles, "Thanks for meeting me."
"Of course!" Kindaichi quickly sputters, nodding a few more times to be sure, "I was so surprised! Is this your first visit to Japan?" He continues, finally sitting down. He's a bit flushed from his nerves, and his hands are tense in his laps. Oikawa wishes he'd calm down.
Oikawa nods, taking a sip of his drink hoping his cool and calm aura will envelop his junior, "I've actually moved back. I'm here permanently."
Kindaichi's eyes widen and he perks up, "Really?"
Oikawa cracks another smile, "I transferred to a company in Tokyo so I'll be out there from now on." He explains easily. It's nice to feel missed and wanted. Kindaichi has always been a good kid in his eyes.
"That's amazing!" And Kindaichi is all grins for him and Oikawa quite enjoys the attention. Their conversation soon moves on to Kindaichi's current state, how his college days were, how his college team was, how he's working on getting another degree. Oikawa listens to it all pleasantly.
And then the conversations moves on yet again, "I see Kunimi all the time but I haven't seen Matsukawa, Hanamakki or Iwaizumi since the wedding, unfortunately."
Oikawa clenches his hand against the cup he's holding reflexively but decides to feign ignorance, "Wedding?"
Kindaichi blinks at the question, "Iwaizumi's wedding?" He repeats, looking up at his senior, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
Oikawa nods, "Oh right! I was upset I missed it." I wasn't invited, understandably "How was it?" He hopes he sounds genuine. He hopes Kindaichi can't tell that his teeth are clenched behind his smile. He hopes he can't see how tight his fist is under the table where it sits on his thigh.
Apparently he doesn't, because Kindaichi looks a bit more at ease now, "It must have been five years now? Four? Time flies. It was really nice. The whole thing was outside. It's funny, do you remember Sawamura? He was Karasuno's captain when you were captain. He was the best man! They became friends in college, is what they said."
Oikawa nods slowly, quietly. The fist on his thigh is so tight his knuckles are white. He thinks about an old promise he made. An old promise he was sure to break, but not like this. Never like this.
"Bu-But I'm sure you'd have been the best man if you were able to come." Kindaichi covers awkwardly, perhaps sensing the tension in the air but misreading it. Oikawa tries to relax himself, uncurling his hand. "But i mean you must know all this already anyway. You guys are best friends!"
Oikawa tries not to grimace, "I actually haven't talked to him in a while." He confesses. He tries to make it sound nonchalant. Like its no big deal to cut ties with your best friend in the whole wide world. Like it means nothing to him, this hole he dug himself into years ago.
Kindaichi blinks yet again, "Did you lose his number or something? I have it! Do you want it?"
"Er, I-" Oikawa flounders, his chest tightening.
He's building a protest in the back of his throat but Kindaichi is already pulling his phone out, dictating the numbers and so Oikawa obediently jots them down with shaky fingers onto his phone. He soon after steers the conversation away from the past, and toward the future once more, and they both relax.
It ends up being a nice talk, and Kindaichi promises to keep in touch and try to spread the word of Oikawa's return. His senior thanks him for that and they part ways.
All Oikawa can think about is the number burning a hole in his pocket.
Oikawa blinks out of the memory.
He's still only two sentences into his important e-mail, he realizes with a sigh. He leans back, and sees the café is quite packed now. A glance at his watch lets him now its almost seven. He wonders if he should just pack up and head to work now, get there early, get some praise.
He ponders and finishes his coffee, staring at nothing in particular until a figure breaks his field of vision.
He blinks, sitting up and looking down at a little girl squinting up at him. She has black shoulder length hair, silky and recently combed. She has an elementary school uniform on, a white shirt with a pale pink skirt that reaches her little beat up knees. They have little bandages on them from minor cuts, it seems. Her bangs are swept to the side and held by a pretty blue hair pin.
Oikawa's eyes widen in recognition.
He had definitely seen this little girl before.
But before he can put it all together the girl speaks up, eyes wide and knowing, "The famous guy!" She shouts, accusingly, pointing a finger at him.
Oikawa blinks, eyebrows furrowing at the exclamation. He's about to say something when suddenly the little girl decides to kick him right in the knee.
His right knee.
His bad knee.
His chair screeches back as he pulls away, clutching at his knee and swearing obscenely loudly. His eyes water a bit from the sheer hot pain that shoots up his leg and through his core. Children pack a punch and then have the audacity to giggle at your pain, he notices. But the pain is enough to send him to sniveling tears. Still, he's a grown man and he tries to hold the tears back as best he can. They simply crowd around his eyes blurring his vision.
He realizes, as his face heats up in embarrassment, that the entire café has fallen silent and is staring at them. He also realizes he just shouted a very nasty word at the top of his lungs in public. Everyone is still and watching them and he realizes this can't get any worse. And than it does get worse as one man pushes his way through toward them, "Oh my god, I am so sorry." The man starts apologizing, and Oikawa can feel his blood running cold and the pain in his knee is momentarily forgotten.
The man swoops down to pick up the girl, "Kaede what's gotten into you? Kicking a stranger?" He scolds seriously, glaring at the little girl who's frowning and looking down, suddenly apologetic now that her father is here to discipline her.
"Kaede..." Oikawa breathes out the name. Kaede. He's lost in a memory. A place he'd rather be than this reality. This horrible, cruel reality.
The man looks away from his daughter and finally faces him, "I'm very sorry about th-"
But then he falls deathly silent.
Because Oikawa knows exactly who the man he's looking at is, with his stern face, his pointed brows, his dark hair, his piercing green eyes. He's still five cm shorter. He's still as handsome as ever.
Iwaizumi looks pale, as if he's seeing a ghost, enough to cause his little girl to look up in alarm from her petulant gaze at the ground, "Oikawa?" He asks the air around him, mouth left open, eyebrows drawn in such an expression of confusion and sadness. It almost sounds like an empty wish, breathed out into the wind.
Oikawa cant take it.
He can't take that broken look. He just can't.
And he lets the pent up tears start to fall down his trembling face.
There in the middle of the café, a grown ass man, sobbing into his hands like the awful child he is inside.
Oikawa hates how weak he's become.
But mostly, he just hates himself.
Iwaizumi, it appears, begins to work on instinct, grabbing his arm in a tight grip, as if he'd slip away at any second. Evaporate into the air without a trace. Leave him again. His face is empty of anything.
Oikawa is dragged out of the coffee shop, feebly remembering to grab his laptop with him. He's trying to quiet himself down, feeling pathetic and terrible and they still haven't exchanged any words but Iwaizumi is leading him to his parked car. Iwaizumi lets go of him in front of the vehicle, but gives him a stern look as if to say Don't you dare fucking leave. The 'again' is implied, but Oikawa can feel it with the sting of distrust in those darkened green eyes.
Oikawa fidgets there, wiping at his gross wet face with the back of his hands. He watches as Iwaizumi opens the back door, buckling his daughter into her car seat with care and smoothing a lock of her hair behind her ear. She watches him, wide eyed, as he whispers something to her. He pulls back and closes the door.
And then he looks at him.
Oikawa turns his head away. Weak. Pathetic and weak. Can't even face him.
Iwaizumi opens the door to the passenger seat.
Oikawa hesitates. Iwaizumi hardens.
"Iwaizumi-" Oikawa begins, shakily, voice raw from crying. He's trying to protest. To delay even more. He's not ready. He's not ready. He's not-
"Don't make me curse in front of her. Get in the car." Is Iwaizumi's cold reply.
Oikawa swallows, steps forward and takes a seat.
It's weird, sitting silently in Iwaizumi's car after ten years with his daughter in the backseat, that he didnt even know existed, early in the morning. He glances at his watch, and realizes he only has an hour until he's got to be at work, and he doesn't want to be here, and whenever he looks at Iwaizumi's face he just wants to cry and surely they could catch up some other time?
It's deadly silent in the car, and Oikawa tries to break it, "Where are we going?" His voice is weaker than he wants it to be, and it crackles at the edges. His throat feels hoarse. His eyes are burning.
"Kaede needs to get to school first." Iwaizumi explains curtly, never letting his gaze leave the road.
"I don't need to go to school." Kaede mutters quietly from her spot in the back, fidgeting with her seatbelt.
Iwaizumi glances at her through the rearview mirror, "And you're still in trouble for kicking adults. I'm telling your mother about this."
Kaede whines from the back seat, grumbling, "I wanted to make sure I was right." She insists, crossing her arms, cutely. Oikawa can't help but smile a little, despite everything.
"I don't care why. We don't kick people. Period." Iwaizumi scolds and Oikawa thinks back to all the times Iwaizumi had punched him, threatened him and kicked him. If it were any other time he would have brought it up and teased him about it. A decade ago he would not have hesitated. But that was then and this is now.
They pull up at the school and Iwaizumi helps her out of her car seat, sending her off on her way. She waves back. "Remember, Mom is picking you up today!" He calls to her. He watches her go into the building, lingers a moment, and then steps back into his car.
Neither say a word for a long while, parked in silence. Oikawa has mostly composed himself by now, but he still just wants to run away at this point. He can't even imagine what's going on in Iwaizumi's head. At least Oikawa had been trying to prepare himself for this inevitable moment. Hell, Iwaizumi didn't even know he was back in the country until about a half hour ago.
Oikawa glances at the clock in the suffocating silence and then timidly cracks it again, "I need to be at work in forty minu-"
"What the fuck happened to you?!" Iwaizumi shouts, hands clenched onto either side of the steering wheel, glaring at it, "Why the fuck did you just stop talking to me? Where did you go? What did you do? What did I do?"
Oikawa swallows, feeling small, "I..."
But Iwaizumi doesn't want explanations at the moment, "You're an asshole you know that? An absolute piece of shit. I used to call you trash but I never actually believed you were until now. You motherfucker. How dare you just stop talking to me like that? As if I didn't exist anymore?"
"Iwa-"
"No. Fuck you. I don't want to hear it." He snaps, slamming a fist onto his steering wheel, "I don't give a flying shit about what you want to say. You can go fuck yourself for all I care." He hisses, leaning onto his steering wheel, glaring at the wind shield, shoulders tense.
Oikawa remains silent.
"One text. One text. That's all I wanted. One fucking text to let me know you were ok. An e-mail! Just one word. One fucking word you piece of shit."
Oikawa looks out at the elementary school.
"Ya know, I get it. Just one `goodbye' would have been enough for fuck's sake! But instead I get nothing. For years. Fuck you. I knew you were a self centered shitpile but i never knew you were such a self-centered shitpile."
Oikawa swallows, looking down at his lap.
"How long have you been back here? How fucking long? Have you been here all along? One fucking text. One. Fuck you. Just-Just fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. You're a piece of shit. Worse than that. Worse than anything in this whole fucking world. "
Iwaizumi refuses to look at him.
They're quiet for a while then, and Oikawa doesn't realize that Iwaizumi's teared up until he sees the other wiping at his face angrily. Until he sees how is shoulders are trembling without his control. His heart sinks at that, and he feels worse than he's ever felt before.
Iwaizumi Hajime should never cry.
Iwaizumi starts again after a moment, but quieter, like a whisper, "Even...even if you wanted to break up with me that's fine...but." And his voice is cracking now, and Oikawa buries his own face in his hands at the sound, hunched over in his spot on the passenger seat "but I thought we'd still be friends."
Oikawa takes in a shaky breath, letting it out through the gaps between his fingers, "I'm sorry." He whispers into his hands, "I'm so sorry." Because it's all he can say even though he knows its not enough. It will never be enough.
Iwaizumi doesn't say anything. They stay quiet again. The moment feels like forever. Two men in a small car, crying quietly over a decade of disconnect. But finally, Iwaizumi punches his steering wheel one last time, takes a deep breath and sits up. He puts the car into reverse and backs out of the parking space.
"Where do you work? I'll drop you off." He asks in a monotone, devoid of anything. A courtesy because Iwaizumi is nice, has always been nice, can only be nice. And it makes Oikawa want to burst back into tears more than the raw abuse that had been shouted at him. The abuse he wholly deserved.
Oikawa gives him directions numbly and the two remain in silence for the rest of the trip. Oikawa steps out of the car at the curb in front of his office building. He lingers a moment, but Iwaizumi doesn't give him another glance as he drives off.
Oikawa watches him go, standing in the spot feeling hollow. Feeling nothing.
He pulls out his phone and dials his boss to call in sick. His boss doesn't argue after hearing his raw pained voice over the receiver. Oikawa then slips the phone back into his pocket and heads for the metro to go home. As he moves he falters, biting his lip. He pushes through the pain and limps forward.
His knee is screaming. His heart is throbbing. His eyes are stinging.
He hopes he can make it home before throwing up.
hahaha that was fun right
c:
reviews make me smile
see you next time!