seijaku

“Maybe you should loosen up for me sometime.”

Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi had decided, was an idiot. He just said the first thing to come to mind without giving it a second thought. Or maybe the problem was that he was doing this on purpose, which only made it all the more irritating. Either way, Iwaizumi now battled the simultaneous urge to reach across this restaurant table and deck the idol in the face, and pull him in for a bruising kiss until he could taste the blood on Oikawa’s lips. Both decidedly very violent urges, Iwaizumi would admit, but neither less intense than the other all the same.

His only saving grace was the faint coughing from behind him that distracted Oikawa, breaking their eye contact and offering a much needed excuse to breathe again. Seriously, what kind of moron dropped lines like that in a place like this? Well, maybe it would have been different if either of them had any intention of ending the night together, but seeing as Iwaizumi understood that to be a distinct improbability, all there was left to do was sulk to himself and try not to linger on the unspoken implications that didn’t even exist because this wasn’t real.

He was not on a date with an alpha, they were not flirting with each other, and Iwaizumi really needed to stop letting himself get distracted with “what if”s before he ended up like the two seated at the table a few feet away from them. Well, one of them was seated now. Iwaizumi watched in the dull reflection of a table divider as the victim of their ruse (Matsu…Mattsun?) carefully got up and excused himself to retreat into the restrooms at the back, all the while holding a napkin over his mouth. He also saw the other occupant at that table steal a glance over his shoulder, seemingly meeting Oikawa’s eyes as they exchanged a brief look. Iwaizumi kind of hated having his back turned to the others. It felt like being left out of what must have been a hilarious inside joke, despite acting as the centrepiece of their entire operation. He lifted his glass of water to his lips in an attempt to hide the involuntary scowl slowly taking shape on his face.

“...I think Mattsun saw us,” Oikawa said then, quietly. Iwaizumi glanced up at him. He was no longer looking at his friend across the way, but rather down at their table, picking at a divot in the woodgrain. All at once Iwaizumi felt the vast majority of his misplaced ire dissipate in place of sympathy. He reached out to place his hand over Oikawa’s without hesitation, ignoring the way the other alpha froze under his touch.

“It’ll be okay,” he assured, holding Oikawa’s gaze. “I’m sure it’s just a flare up from the initial reaction of seeing you. It’ll go away in a few minutes.”

Oikawa watched him for a while, searching his eyes for something, and Iwaizumi was the first to break eye contact this time. He withdraw his hand to his lap, gravitating back to his glass of water that had become something of a buffer between him and awkward moments. Oikawa didn’t even give him the chance to retreat back into himself, though.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he began. Iwaizumi closed his eyes because he knew somewhere deep in his gut what was coming next. “And if it’s too personal, just say so, but…back when we first met—or, well, the second time, I guess—and I asked you to do all this for me… I mean, it just seemed like maybe—”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi answered without letting him finish. He stared into his water, mulling over how he would say this, or if he even wanted to say it at all. “...Yeah, I lost someone to the Hanahaki once.”

He could feel the pity radiating from Oikawa’s gaze, but he refused to meet it. He hated that look, as cliche as it sounded, because it made him feel like some kind of wounded animal that somebody else felt obligated to try to fix. He could acknowledge, though, that coming from Oikawa, it held a different weight to it. It was less sympathy, and more empathy. Of course, that arguably made it worse.

“...Is that why you were so quick to agree to help me?” Oikawa asked.

“If there is any possibility that I can prevent someone else from going through what I did… There’s no way I’m walking away from that.” He finally lifted his eyes to meet the other’s, training his expression so that it wouldn’t betray all of the memories this conversation was stirring up inside him. “I have no idea if something like this will even work…but I’d never be able to forgive myself if we didn’t at least try. ”

This time it was Oikawa who reached for his hand, but it was less sure, merely a brush of fingers. The intention was there, though.

“Thank you,” he said. “For trying for me.” Their fingertips slotted together, teasing at the idea of holding hands. “I know I haven’t made it easy for you.” Iwaizumi scoffed lightly.

“That’s an understatement.” He wasn’t surprised to see a pout start to form on Oikawa’s lips, but the latter offered nothing to his own defense. “It hasn’t been all bad… It’s given me the chance to know you, at least.”

In a flash that pout was replaced by slightly widened eyes and parted lips and just the faintest trace of pink on Oikawa’s cheeks. It was looks like those that made Iwaizumi wonder about all kinds of stupid things, like if it would really be all that bad if he just took Oikawa’s hand and kissed his knuckles again like that night on the idol’s couch, but less messy, more purposeful, without the excuse of a possible concussion to hide behind. He might have genuinely considered doing it, too, if their waiter hadn't appeared around the corner to finally take their orders.

Their hands snapped apart as if struck by lightning. Oikawa managed to regain his composure without batting an eye and Iwaizumi really had to wonder just how good of an actor he could be if he put his mind to it. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, had to clear his throat, discreetly peeking inside the menu again when he realized he never settled on what to order. Oikawa, of course, had already made up his mind on the stuffed squid and Iwaizumi had to suppress a gag. Personally he thought the simmered daikon would have been the better choice and, upon further consideration, he decided to order that for himself. He didn’t miss Oikawa’s thinly veiled snicker, but he was quick to recover and add the bottle of sake he had mentioned earlier to their order. Iwaizumi nearly passed out.

“Did you have to get something so expensive?” he asked after the waiter disappeared with their menus. Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“Iwa-chan, that was one of the cheaper selections on the menu,” he said. Iwaizumi had to drop his dizzy head into his hands. “I promise it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, though,” Iwaizumi argued, lifting his head again to direct a half-hearted glare at Oikawa. “I don’t like it when people spend a lot of money on me.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re actually dating, ” Oikawa helpfully pointed out. “Shouldn’t you just take it for what it is? As far as I’m concerned, every cent I spend on you is an investment in my own interests. You could stand to be a little more selfish, you know.” Iwaizumi stared at him.

“No. No, I really couldn’t,” he said. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not one of your crazed fans who would lose their heads over just a taste of fame and fortune. I have my dignity.”

“I never said you were,” Oikawa said, slowly, giving him a guarded look. “I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with indulging a little when you have the chance. It’s not like I’m offering to buy you a house or something. It’s a bottle of sake for both of us to enjoy. Relax.”

“You are so full of yourself sometimes, you know that?” Iwaizumi laughed as he spoke, but it was dry and humourless. Oikawa gave him an incredulous look.

“What do you—”

“Don’t you think that flaunting your wealth in front of people can come off a little, I don’t know, patronizing?” He scoffed. “You really don’t have to go out of your way to remind everyone around you that you’re so far above them. It’s actually not that cute.”

“I’m not—”

“You know what?” Iwaizumi pushed his chair back to stand up. “I have to use the bathroom. Do me a favour and pull your head out of your ass before I get back, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for Oikawa to respond, turning on his heel to make his way down the aisle of tables toward the restrooms.

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Oikawa sat there with what must have been the most dumbfounded expression on his face as he watched Iwaizumi walk away. What the hell was that all about? He wasn’t “flaunting” anything, was he? He was just stating facts. Sure, yes, he was wealthy, but he had no qualms sharing that wealth casually when the opportunity arose. Was it really so wrong of him to want to offer Iwaizumi a lavish experience during their fake date in an attempt to repay him for all he was doing to help Oikawa when he didn’t have to?

It wasn’t as if he thought money could in any way equal that kind of generosity, but the way Oikawa saw it, it was all he really had to offer right now. If Iwaizumi asked for his help when he was in a tight spot, Oikawa would agree in a heartbeat. Probably. Of course there were some things that could potentially cross a boundary, but he didn’t expect that from Iwaizumi in the slightest. So what was the problem?

He was still staring after Iwaizumi when he caught sight of the head of strawberry blond hair doing a double-take when the other alpha passed his table. He met Hanamaki’s eyes when the beta whipped his head around to look at him, and for a moment he was confused by the panic in Hanamaki’s eyes. That is, until he noticed that Matsukawa was still missing from his table. His eyes widened to match Hanamaki’s.

Matsukawa hadn’t come back from the restroom yet.

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If someone asked Iwaizumi why he was suddenly so irritable, he honestly couldn’t give them a good answer. He knew it must have seemed out of place from an outside perspective, but there was only so much of Oikawa’s pompous bullshit he could take at one time. It wasn’t that Iwaizumi had grown up exceptionally poor or anything, but he knew what it was to struggle. He only got into that private boarding school on a scholarship, one that he put his blood, sweat, and tears into achieving so that his mother wouldn’t have to worry about him when he went on to university. He wanted his mother to be able to focus on supporting herself since…

Well.

Iwaizumi felt a small fraction of relief once he was in the alphas’ restroom, only inasmuch that he didn’t have to feel Oikawa’s gaze digging into his back anymore. He hovered in front of one of the sinks, turning on the tap to splash a bit of water over his face.

There was more to his spontaneous frustration than Oikawa being a pretty rich boy who was hopelessly oblivious to the world around him, though. He was also frustrated with himself. For allowing himself to keep finding reasons to keep up this charade, for daydreaming about something that was never going to happen, for thinking even for a second that he would come out of this unscathed. There was no path he could take from this point that wouldn’t result in him getting hurt somehow.

One outcome was that their plan would fail and “Mattsun” would die, followed soon after by “Makki” if he had to guess. Oikawa would fall to pieces after losing two of his friends and Iwaizumi would either be there to run damage control while suffering whatever side effects that entailed, or Oikawa would curse him out of his life for daring to get his hopes up about something so unrealistic.

Another outcome was that their plan would work, Mattsun and Makki would carry on with their lives while Oikawa had to go on knowing one of them hated him and the other would probably never be able to talk to him again. Maybe Oikawa would keep Iwaizumi around to try to fill the void that they would leave, but it wouldn’t even come close, Oikawa would start to resent him for ruining his relationship with his friends, and toss him to the curb. If not that, then Oikawa would dismiss him immediately now that he was no longer of use and it would be weird to keep hanging out with an alphaphile who had already made passes at him in the past.

Either way, Iwaizumi would lose.

But this was what he signed up for, wasn’t it? Just as he told Oikawa, he would not turn a blind eye to a chance to spare someone the pain of losing a loved one to Hanahaki Disease. Maybe he didn’t fully consider the risks of doing something like this when he agreed, but it wasn’t like those risks changed anything. This wasn’t about him. The only reason this was becoming so difficult was because Iwaizumi had to go and start caring about someone like Oikawa like a goddamn idiot. It would be so much easier if he could live with the fact that he might never see Oikawa again after all was said and done. He could deal with staying friends if it meant keeping Oikawa in his life. He could settle for that.

It might kill him, but he would settle.

The sounds of dry heaving carrying out of one of the closed stalls in the restroom tore Iwaizumi out of his thoughts. For a moment he was willing to chalk it up to someone having had too much expensive sake to drink, but when that retching was followed by a very distinct kind of choking and the soft plop of something light hitting the water, Iwaizumi froze. He could recognize that sound anywhere.

“...Hey—you okay in there?” he asked, tentative. He imagined it must have been the slightest bit mortifying for the person in the stall to know that someone heard them coughing up flowers in a restaurant bathroom, but Iwaizumi didn’t want to walk out of there without making sure they were okay. He hadn’t quite connected the dots in his head yet.

“...Yeah. Thanks,” a gruff voice replied just before the toilet flushed.

The shuffling noises from the stall indicated the person might be stepping out soon. Iwaizumi realized he still had the sink water running, so he doused his face one more time before shutting it off to grab a couple towels from the dispenser. The stall door opened behind him, and he patted down his face a few more times before lowering the damp paper to glance back at the other alpha in the mirror.

They both froze upon seeing each other. Oh, shit. This was him. This was “the guy”. The alpha who had tragically fallen in love with Oikawa Tooru. The one Iwaizumi was under obligation to torment. Shit. Talk about awkward.

He also realized belatedly that he probably didn’t have any reason to know who the alpha was from his perspective, so Iwaizumi tried to play off his staring as concern. Which it was, in part.

“...Sure you’re okay?” he tried, diverting his gaze to wad up the paper towels and toss them into the trash can. “That sounded like…”

“...Yeah. I’m fine,” the other responded. Iwaizumi really wished he could remember the guy’s name and not just the cutesy nickname Oikawa supplied him with more often, but it didn’t exactly matter right now.

“Okay, uh…just…making sure.” Did he sound suspicious? He felt like he sounded suspicious. Fuck, he was blowing this for Oikawa. What the hell was the point of fake dating if the guy knew it was fake? He blinked to himself and moved to turn around so he could leave the restroom without further incident. Maybe he could still play this off as a coincidental encounter, which it was.

“...Hey.”

Fuck. Iwaizumi paused, haltingly turning back around so he could regard Mattsun from over his shoulder. The other alpha stared down at the sink as he washed his hands.

“...Yeah?”

“...You’re here with Oikawa Tooru,” Mattsun noted. Iwaizumi gulped.

“Y-yeah. You know him?” he asked, hoping the question sounded as innocent as intended. He had his doubts. Mattsun hummed.

“Yeah. …You’re an alpha.” Mattsun shut off the water and grabbed a handful of towels to dry his hands. Iwaizumi wished he were anywhere else but here.

“Yeah…” Dammit. How could he swing this to work in Oikawa’s favour? “Listen, uh…could you— I mean, I just don’t want this to, ah…get out, you know?” Okay, okay, he could go the shameful liaison route. That would work, right? “It would be really bad if the media caught wind of…us.” Play it cool, dude. Don’t ruin this.

“...You’re together?” Mattsun asked, turning to stare at him.

“...Kinda?” Iwaizumi softly cleared his throat to keep his voice from cracking. “I mean, it’s—it’s not official yet or anything. We sorta just started courting each other a couple weeks ago. He’s…pretty amazing, though. I never expected—someone like Tooru to want to court someone like me, you know?”

Gods, he wanted to die. The flash of pain in Mattsun’s eyes that disappeared just as quickly didn’t help, either. He stood stock still as the alpha approached, tensing when he lifted a hand to place on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Oh, fuck, were they about to fight? Was this guy actually the violent jealous type? Maybe Iwaizumi should just stop using public restrooms. He always seemed to find trouble in them these days.

“...Be good to him.”

And with that, Matsukawa walked past him and left. Iwaizumi blinked.

…What the hell?

It took him a few moments to regather his composure and exit the restroom as well, turning the corner back into the aisle where their table was only to find Mattsun seemingly ushering the beta he had come with to pay for their food and leave. Iwaizumi briefly met Oikawa’s eyes across the way, trying his damnedest to convey an apology with looks alone, but Oikawa’s gaze was torn away when his two friends shuffled by his table. Iwaizumi still stood too far away to hear much of anything, but he watched Oikawa stand up and make some crude attempt at acting surprised to see the other two there. Mattsun walked right past him without so much as a word, the beta lingering behind to pat Oikawa’s shoulder before hurrying after the other alpha.

Only once the two had left the restaurant did Iwaizumi approach their table where Oikawa slowly sat back down, a shell-shocked expression on his face.

“What…the hell just happened?” the idol asked as Iwaizumi sat across from him again, keeping his guard up. Oikawa looked at him finally. “What happened between you two in there?”

“I-I don’t know,” Iwaizumi answered earnestly. He was still trying to make sense of it all himself. “He just— He was in one of the stalls, and I heard him… I think…he was still recovering from seeing you, and then he saw me, and he—he asked about us.”

“What did you tell him?” Oikawa pried, leaning forward on the table. Iwaizumi sighed.

“I told him we were courting. Tried to play it off like I didn’t know who he was, and he said…” Oikawa leaned in a bit more, urging him to continue. Iwaizumi swallowed. “...He told me to be good to you, and then he just…left.”

“...He just left,” Oikawa repeated in disbelief. Iwaizumi nodded. The former stared at him for a moment longer before sitting back in his seat, taking a deep breath and looking deep in thought.

“...Look, I’m-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in there before he came back out. I didn’t—”

“No, no,” Oikawa interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. It’s… This is good. Now he knows.” He lifted his cup of jasmine tea to his lips to drink from it without meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“...Yeah. Are you—okay?” he asked. He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the other’s non-reaction. Oikawa plastered a half-smile on his face and shook his head as if to dismiss the conversation entirely.

“I’m fine. This is…exactly what we wanted, so I’m…fine. Better than fine. Great, even.” Okay, now I’m scared. “We should still wait for our food, right? It would be a waste not to eat since we’re already here.”

“Oikawa…”

“I said I’m fine. Really,” Oikawa repeated, only now raising his eyes to meet Iwaizumi’s properly. There was a silent plea in that gaze that Iwaizumi knew better than to address. Instead, he just pursed his lips and nodded.

“...Okay. If you say so.” He definitely was not “fine”, but Iwaizumi would try to pry him open later, preferably when they were alone. …Actually, nix that entire sentence. There were infinite better ways of phrasing that. “Also, can I just— I wanna apologize. For earlier. I’m just…going through some shit and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Oikawa’s gaze softened then, his smile turning into something far less forced, and he moved his hand as if to reach for Iwaizumi’s again, opening his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by the server reappearing with their food. Once again it was as if an invisible wall appeared between them, forbidding any contact whatsoever. Then again, that always seemed to happen any time the two of them dared to get too close to each other. Not just physically, but emotionally, as well. There was always something. Iwaizumi had to wonder if he were cursed sometimes.

They ate in relative silence, attempting idle chatter here and there, but it didn’t come close to their usual banter. That is, until Oikawa neatly plucked a slice of daikon off of Iwaizumi’s plate and popped it into his mouth without so much as a “please” or “thank you”. Iwaizumi gaped at him.

“Excuse you,” he said, moving his plate closer to himself as if to shield it from the thief across the table. “If you wanted the daikon, you should have ordered it.”

“Well, I just couldn’t decide, Iwa-chan, and I wanted to see if it was actually any good,” Oikawa said as if that in any way justified stealing food off of someone else’s plate. He pushed his forward and held up a piece of his stuffed squid with his chopsticks in offering. “Here, you can have some of mine so it’s fair.” Iwaizumi scrunched his nose.

“No, thanks. I’m vegetarian,” he said. Oikawa raised his brows.

“Wait, really?” Iwaizumi nodded. “I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t ask,” Iwaizumi pointed out, taking another bite of his daikon. Honestly, Oikawa was lucky this place had vegetarian dishes. This night could have gone extremely differently if that weren’t the case.

“...But what about when I made us that omelette?” Oikawa asked, pointing his chopsticks at the other accusingly. “Don’t tell me you just threw it out.”

“Of course not.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I don’t count eggs. They’re unfertilized anyway. It’s kinda like milk. If you don’t have to hurt the animal to get it, then I don’t see a problem with it. I’m vegetarian, not vegan.”

“...There’s a difference?” Oikawa thoughtfully chewed on his squid as Iwaizumi looked back up at him like he’d just said the dumbest thing in the world. And, on some accounts, he did.

“Yes, Oikawa, there’s a difference,” he confirmed, unable to mask the chuckle in his voice. “Have you really lived this long not knowing there’s a difference between vegetarianism and veganism?”

“I just thought veganism was, like, the radical version or something!” Oikawa said. “So—wait, if it’s not the same thing, then what is veganism?” Iwaizumi groaned and put his face in his hand, still chuckling to himself. When Oikawa spoke next, he could hear the pout in his voice loud and clear. “Come on! I can’t ask anyone else about this without sounding stupid.”

“You already sound stupid,” Iwaizumi said, lifting his head again to see the proof of the pout with his own two eyes. “Veganism abstains from all meat and animal products, including eggs and dairy. Most vegetarians will still eat and drink eggs and dairy products.”

“ Most? ” Oikawa parroted, seeming to only grow more confused by the minute. Iwaizumi laughed again.

“Yes, most. Some vegetarians still consider eggs to be meat. I think milk is still considered totally vegetarian, but there are still people with lactose intolerance, so.” He watched Oikawa mull this over to himself, then look down at his half-finished plate, and promptly look back up at Iwaizumi with those wide, doe-like eyes of his.

“Do you think I’m disgusting for eating squid?” he asked as if it would genuinely break him if Iwaizumi said yes. He was almost tempted to. Almost.

“No, Oikawa. Your diet is completely your choice,” he said. Oikawa let out a small sigh of apparent relief. “I’m not even, like, against eating meat completely. You know, like, hunting for food is perfectly fine. I guess being a vegetarian is just my way of saying ‘fuck you’ to slaughterhouses and shit. More of a statement, really.”

“That’s…” Stupid? Pointless? I’ve heard it all. “...really admirable.” Iwaizumi paused and blinked up at Oikawa, who was smiling at him in that gentle, sincere way that made his heart race. People could say what they wanted, but Oikawa’s genuine smiles were just as awe-inspiring as a rainbow after a bleak day. Not that Iwaizumi would ever admit that out loud. “So this is the kind of stuff you lose sleep over, huh?”

“...What?” he asked dumbly. Oikawa giggled.

“When we first met,” he clarified. “You said you had more important things to lose sleep over than what everyone else thinks about you. I’m starting to see that now.” He spared Iwaizumi one last glimpse of his smile before diverting his attention to the sake sitting untouched in the middle of their table, preparing two glasses for them.

“...What about you?” Iwaizumi asked. “What kinds of things do you lose sleep over? Just in general,” he added quickly. Iwaizumi was right in the middle of one very major reason that Oikawa undoubtedly lost sleep, but he wanted to know what lay beyond that. Oikawa smirked at him again as he filled the alpha’s glass.

“What everyone else thinks about me. I thought that was obvious,” he said. Iwaizumi deliberated for a moment.

“Is that…because you’re an idol, or…?”

“No,” Oikawa said, “but it’s probably what drove me to be an idol in the first place.” He lifted his glass to his lips, drinking down the sake in one go. Iwaizumi dragged his toward himself, but he didn’t drink it yet, still too busy observing Oikawa.

“How’s that?” he asked. “I remember before you talked about how you almost decided to play volleyball professionally. What really changed your mind? And don’t say you weren’t good enough. I’ve watched the videos of you play. You were amazing.” Oikawa offered a bashful smile as Iwaizumi finally drank his sake.

“...Music was…the most logical option,” he began. “Sports are… They can make you or break you, depending on the kind of person you are. …I let volleyball break me.” That smile slowly vanished as Oikawa poured himself another drink.

“What do you mean?” This was probably the most he would ever get to hear about Oikawa’s life pre-fame. He didn’t want to waste the opportunity to learn more about him.

“I got very…obsessed. To the point that it was all I could think about. Every time I lost, I pushed myself harder and harder.” Oikawa’s gaze was unfocused, somewhere far beyond the restaurant and deep in the catacombs of his own memories. Iwaizumi couldn’t look away. “My therapist said it was my coping mechanism. I turned something I loved into a method of self-destruction. …I pretty much ruined my knee my third year of high school. There was no way I could go pro without seriously injuring myself somewhere along the way.”

He watched Oikawa swallow down another cup of sake. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but listening to Oikawa talk about his memories of volleyball made Iwaizumi want to cry. He never even felt that passionately about the sport himself, but now a part of him wished he did so that he could try to understand the depth of Oikawa’s heartbreak. It was so clear now that Oikawa had lost a part of himself when he gave up on volleyball. The man in front of him was only a shadow of what he could have been, and Oikawa must have known that with every atom in his body. It must have been hell to live with that.

“...I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “I’m sorry you had to let go of something you loved so much. And—you don’t have to talk about it, but whatever you were coping with? I’m sorry for that, too.” He knew it couldn’t have meant much coming from him, but he wanted to say it anyway. Oikawa deserved to know that he didn’t have to suffer in silence. He only gave a sad smile and a quiet word of thanks in return, but Iwaizumi wasn’t satisfied with that. “...You could still play casually, right? As long as you don’t push yourself too hard?” Oikawa blinked.

“Uh—yeah, hypothetically,” he said, forcing a laugh. “I just…never really got the chance to. Everyone from my team went off to the big leagues after high school or just…got so busy with their lives. Not to mention I haven’t picked up a volleyball in years. I’d probably be terrible if I tried now.”

“Let me take you somewhere tonight,” Iwaizumi said without missing a beat. “I wanna show you something.” Oikawa narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the side.

“Should I be worried…?” he asked. Iwaizumi smirked and reached for the bottle of sake.

“No. You should be excited.”

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They left the restaurant after finishing their food and Iwaizumi gave Oikawa directions to this mysterious destination of his. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea for either of them to drive after finishing off a bottle of sake together, but thankfully they both had a relatively high tolerance and made it to their destination without incident.

Oikawa would admit to being a little skeptical when Iwaizumi instructed him to park around the back of an unlit building rather than the semi-well-lit parking lot out front, but he was also endlessly curious about what Iwaizumi wanted to show him here. Despite the rough patch during their fake date at the restaurant, they had left in somewhat high spirits and Oikawa was eager to keep that momentum going. After all, they had seldom had the chance to peer into each other’s lives since they met and Oikawa viewed this as an opportunity to change that.

“What is this place?” Oikawa asked as they got out of his car, following close behind Iwaizumi as they approached the back entrance of the building.

“You’ll see,” was all Iwaizumi offered by way of an explanation, fishing a set of keys out of his jacket pocket.

“Naa, are you sure we should be here? It doesn’t look like this place is open,” Oikawa said, glancing around them as if he expected a cop car to roll around the corner and catch them at any moment.

“ Relax. We’re allowed to be here,” Iwaizumi assured, unlocking the door and opening it for Oikawa to step inside. He did so cautiously, lingering right by the doorway as he peered into the darkness of the room. He jumped a little when he heard the door close behind them, blindly reaching out to grab onto the nearest part of Iwaizumi he could find, which happened to be his arm. He heard the other alpha chuckle beside him just before the lights were switched on.

Blinking until his eyesight adjusted to the light, Oikawa looked around. They appeared to be in some sort of storage room, various materials and crates stacked around. He didn’t let go of Iwaizumi’s arm as he was led to another set of doors that opened into a much wider space. More lights came on, revealing all the different kinds of exercise equipment set up in the room. There was something off about this place, though, as he noticed there were some things that certainly resembled standard equipment, but were a little different, and things he didn’t quite understand at all. A few pairs of ramps that didn’t seem to serve any explicit purpose, pull-down machines with no seats attached, some sort of miniature elliptical-esque machine he had never seen before. He furrowed his brows.

“A gym?” That much seemed obvious, but he still couldn’t put his finger on why this didn’t feel like any of the gyms he had ever been to.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, placing his hands on his hips. “Bokuto’s pride and joy. Second to Akaashi, of course.” Oikawa turned to look at him, eyes widening.

“Bokuto’s? You mean he owns this place?” he asked. Iwaizumi smiled, none too shy about bragging about his friends, it would seem.

“Yup. He bought it from the last owner when their business started going under a few years ago,” he said, then gestured around to the equipment. “Now it’s an adaptive fitness centre for people with disabilities.” His eyes softened as he gazed around the room. “It was one of the first big investments he made after going pro. He wanted to show Akaashi how serious he was about his activism as an anniversary gift or something.”

Oikawa stared at him for a moment longer before he looked around the gym again. This was…amazing. He had no idea Bokuto had such a big heart. Well, he had an idea —it was impossible not to understand how kind and caring Bokuto was after talking with him for any length of time—but Oikawa never would have guessed he would have done something like this. Then again, that was probably because he couldn’t see himself coming up with something like this. Not on his own, at least. What did it say about him that he felt so inferior standing in this room when anyone else would only feel admiration?

“...Come on,” Iwaizumi said, tapping on his shoulder to regain his attention. “There’s more I wanted to show you.”

More? Oikawa blinked and followed him across the gym, wondering what Iwaizumi’s intentions were by bringing him here. Inspiration, maybe? He supposed he would just have to find out.

Iwaizumi led him through another set of doors that appeared to lead to the other half of the building. Oikawa gasped once the lights came on and he was met with the hauntingly familiar, polished wooden flooring of an indoor court. It was multi-purpose, judging by the boundaries on the floor, but Oikawa had a feeling he now knew why Iwaizumi had brought him here.

“Iwa—”

“You don’t have to,” the other alpha interjected. Oikawa looked at him, wary. “I’m not gonna ask you to do anything you don’t want to. But, ” he added, “if you do want to, then you can help me get the stuff to set up from the storage room?” Iwaizumi gestured behind him with his thumb to another back room.

Oikawa stared at him for a moment, deliberating. Part of him was already itching at the thought of getting his hands on a ball, while the other part wanted to break out into a cold sweat thinking about how rusty he must have gotten after all these years. After giving up on volleyball, he never went back to it. It only ever served as a painful reminder of what could have been. He had found other methods of distraction—his music, for example—and he told himself he wouldn’t look back because it was pointless to torture himself with something he could never have.

However, maybe…

Maybe enough time had passed.

Oikawa opened his mouth to say something, but then he paused, looking down at his attire. Any hype he had worked up deflated in an instant.

“...I can’t play dressed like this,” he said, pouting. He could certainly try, but he would almost definitely make a fool out of himself, rip something, or both. Iwaizumi put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Oikawa looked up to find him smiling again.

“They’ve got spare clothes. Come on.”

He started off toward the back room. Oikawa stared after him, wondering how Iwaizumi always seemed to have a solution for everything, then followed behind at a light jog. They changed into the spare practice jerseys and shorts Iwaizumi promised in the adjoining locker room, set up the net (not without the obligatory near-death encounter when Iwaizumi pulled ahead too quickly while carrying one of the poles and nearly obliterating Oikawa’s foot in the process), and filled a basket with volleyballs to use.

As they were doing their warm-ups on the side of the court, Oikawa doing seated twists and Iwaizumi stretching his arms and shoulders beside him, the brunet looked over at him, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi glanced down, brow raised. “Why’d you wanna bring me here, anyway?”

“Well,” the other alpha began, switching arms, “Akaashi, Bokuto, and I come here all the time to work out. I haven’t played in a long time either, and after hearing you talk about volleyball…” He spared Oikawa another chaste glance before turning away again. “I wanted to see what you’re really made of.” Something told him that that wasn’t the real reason, but, then again, it didn’t really need to be said. Oikawa squinted at him with a playful smirk.

“Really, now? I thought you said you watched my games already,” he pointed out.

“Research and observation,” Iwaizumi said. “I need to do both before I decide whether or not you’re as good as they say.” Oikawa humphed, getting to his feet to stretch his quads.

“Well, you’re gonna have to give me a little while to warm up,” he said. “Like I said, it’s been years, and I did warn you I’d probably be terrible now. Prepare to be disappointed~”

“We’ll see,” Iwaizumi said, his eyes following Oikawa’s path to the ball basket. He concluded his stretches and crossed his arms while he waited on the sidelines, simply watching.

Oikawa wouldn’t admit to the way having an audience made his palms a little sweaty. Iwaizumi probably didn’t intend to become an intimidating onlooker just waiting to catch him screw up in real time, but Oikawa couldn’t help feeling that way. This kind of nervousness was foreign to him. He was always performing in front of others, all the way from elementary school until now. Singing and dancing on a stage in front of a full concert hall was slightly different from playing on a court in a packed stadium, but a lot was still the same.

The main difference was that, back then, Oikawa never paid any mind to the eyes on him until after the fact. When he was on the court, that was his entire world. He tuned out everything else, devoting his undivided attention to the game. After so long, however, even though stepping back onto a court was like greeting an old friend, so much had changed about him. He wasn’t the same person anymore.

He bounced the ball once, twice, spun it in his hands, and took a deep breath. As he released it, he tried to summon back that feeling. He focused on the net. Just get it over.

He tossed the ball into the air. One step, two steps, run, leap. He reeled his hand back, angled his body, and swung. He winced upon contact, knowing that the trajectory would be off just from the way his hand hit the ball. As he landed, he saw the ball fly off to the side of the court, touching ground a few feet away from the boundary line. He frowned.

“Hey.” He turned toward Iwaizumi, who was still watching him with the same neutral expression. “You’re just warming up. Shake it off, and don’t try to go all out right at the start. You’ll hurt yourself doing that.”

Oikawa blinked. He…had a point. He needed time to get back into the groove and find his tempo before he could expect halfway decent results. He retrieved another ball from the basket. Spin, breathe, toss, run, leap, swing. He held back this time, sacrificing power for accuracy. He hit the boundary line. Again. Spin, breathe, toss, run, leap, aim, swing. It was still out of bounds, but it touched down in the middle of the far line. Oikawa zeroed in on his target zone. Toss, run, leap, swing. Success. Toss, run, leap, swing. Success. Toss, run, leap, swing. Success!

Now for the moment of truth. Toss, run, leap. He felt a coil tighten in his shoulder. His arm was comfortably loose now, anticipating the swing. His body snapped forward, a grunt pushed out of his lungs as he hit the ball. There was a distinct slap on the other side of the court just before the ball ricocheted into the wall. Oikawa didn’t even notice the manic grin that had grown on his face until he heard Iwaizumi whistle from the side.

“That really is one monster serve,” he commented, walking forward onto the court with his own smirk. “Looks like you still got game, Shittykawa.” Oikawa’s smile was immediately replaced by a pout.

“Do you really have to call me that right after giving me a compliment? It kinda defeats the purpose, you know,” he said. Iwaizumi laughed and slapped his back, making him jolt forward a bit.

“Help me clean those up and serve to me a few times, yeah? I wanna try receiving some of those.”

Let it be known that those were Iwaizumi’s words, and Oikawa was simply obliging. To his credit, he actually managed to receive a fair few of Oikawa’s serves, but not without a number of frustrating misses. He even dove out of the way to avoid one ( “Stop trying to kill me, asshole!” ). After a while of that, though, Iwaizumi decided he wanted to put Oikawa’s setter abilities to the test next.

“Good idea, Iwa-chan! This’ll be way easier for you. You won’t even have to use that little brain of yours, promise!”

“ Hah?! You wanna try that again, Assikawa?!”

“Stop calling me names! HEY— Let go of my ear! Ow, ow, ow!”

“Just set the ball, dumbass!”

Oikawa rubbed at his ear where Iwaizumi had pinched it, still pouting as he held a ball in his other hand. Nonetheless, he took his position near the net. It would be a little awkward to try to set to his full potential without anyone else to put the ball in play, but he would manage. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tossed the ball straight up. Iwaizumi approached from the back at first tempo and Oikawa grit his teeth. Give me a break, would you?

Unsurprisingly, the timing was way off, and Oikawa’s set was noticeably imprecise. Iwaizumi swung at nothing and the ball flew right over the apex of his swing. Oikawa put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to one side, arching a brow at Iwaizumi, who did a double-take at his posture.

“What?”

“Seriously?” Oikawa asked. “First tempo? Did you really think that would work?” Iwaizumi scoffed.

“Of course not,” he said. “But it would have been really cool if it did, though, right?” Oikawa rolled his eyes with an incredulous huff of air through his nose, but he couldn’t quite hide the slight smile on his face as he shook his head and went to retrieve another ball.

“Third tempo. I wanna make sure you can actually hit my sets before I start making adjustments,” he instructed.

“You know this is just for fun, right?” Iwaizumi reminded him. “You don’t have to psychoanalyze my play style to make sure every set is perfect.” Oikawa plucked another ball out of the basket, twirling it in his hands as he turned around again and smirked at the other alpha.

“What’s the point if you never hit the ball?” he countered. He held Iwaizumi’s eyes when he walked by to get back into position, passing in front of him perhaps a bit closer than strictly necessary. “Third tempo.”

“...Yes, sir,” Iwaizumi muttered before jogging back to his place. Oikawa paused, wondering if he misheard, but he was sure he didn’t. He spent a few seconds taming the smile that tried to betray the fuzziness in his gut, then tossed the ball in the air again.

This time, Iwaizumi waited for the set to make his approach. When he made contact with the ball, he hit it hard. Harder than Oikawa’s earlier serves. Maybe it wasn’t quite as powerful as Oikawa’s serve had been in its prime, but it still packed quite the punch. Oikawa tore his eyes away from where it had landed on the other side of the net to find Iwaizumi staring down at his hand.

“...That felt good,” he remarked, half to himself. Oikawa smiled again, more confident this time.

“Then let’s do it again.”

They repeated that process a few more times, finding a comfortable rhythm. Now that they had, though, it was time to switch things up a little. Second tempo would challenge Oikawa to start tailoring his sets to his spiker rather than the other way around. He couldn’t just set the ball and expect Iwaizumi to hit it from wherever he put it. Iwaizumi would approach with his own idea of where he wanted to spike the ball, so Oikawa’s set had to conform to that.

The first attempt left something to be desired. When Oikawa asked for feedback, Iwaizumi advised that it was still a little too high for his liking. Oikawa adjusted. After the second attempt, Iwaizumi said it was too fast. Oikawa adjusted. Iwaizumi fumbled the third attempt due to a misstep. By the fourth attempt, they found their synchrony. The nano-seconds between the ball meeting Oikawa’s fingertips and Iwaizumi’s hand colliding with it were magnetic, and the end result was positively show-stopping. They both felt it, exclaiming their excitement and celebrating with a high-ten.

They continued like that for a while—Oikawa wasn’t sure how long—then transitioned into serving back and forth to each other across the net as they began to wind down. Once they came to the mutual decision to give it a rest for the night, they took turns at the water fountain, cleaned up the court, and deposited their clothes in the laundry bags in the locker rooms to change back into their regular clothes.

Oikawa decided to forego his jacket, hooking it over his shoulder, and Iwaizumi left his tie loose around his neck. They made their way out of the gym, reminiscing the events of the night.

“It’s kinda terrifying, actually,” Iwaizumi said regarding Oikawa’s sets. “It took you four tries to get it right. I bet if we had met in high school, it wouldn’t have even taken you that long.” Oikawa laughed.

“Oh, I dunno about that. It’s not like I can read minds or anything. I’m just good at reading people, ” he stated.

“Well, whatever.” Iwaizumi waved it off. “I still think you have what it takes to go pro if you wanted to.” Oikawa stayed quiet at that, pursing his lips and turning his gaze down to the ground. Iwaizumi seemed to realize his mistake a moment later. “Sorry, I—”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa said, lifting a hand to pat his arm reassuringly. “Really. I appreciate you for saying that. Maybe,” he took a deep breath, “if I didn’t screw up my knee so bad, that might still be on the table…”

“...What happened, anyway?” Iwaizumi asked as they started crossing the back parking lot toward Oikawa’s car. “To your knee.” The brunet smiled sadly at him.

“You didn’t watch that game, huh?” He sighed, reluctantly recalling that fateful day. “It was…my last game in high school. The Spring High Tournament. We made it all the way to the semifinals before it happened. I spent way too much time over-exerting myself, over-analyzing our opponents, I didn’t get enough sleep. I was just…stressed out because I wanted to win so badly. I didn’t want my last memories with my team to be a loss.

“In the end, that’s exactly what happened. I collapsed in the middle of the game. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but I already had a weak knee from shattering it as a child. I got away with a greenstick fracture—and some severe bruising from crashing into a table, but that was a completely separate thing.” He went on before Iwaizumi could question that part of his story. “They had to sub in our second year setter. Don’t get me wrong, Yahaba-kun was good. Really good, especially with our ace, but…”

“...Not good enough,” Iwaizumi finished. Oikawa nodded. They were standing beside his car now. Oikawa leaned back against it, heaving another sigh and watching his breath fog in the air in front of him. Iwaizumi leaned next to him, on his shoulder so that he was facing the alpha. “You know, I think that’s the most you’ve ever said about yourself.” Oikawa furrowed his brows at him.

“What are you talking about? I talk about myself all the time,” he defended. He knew this because his friends never failed to call him out for it. Iwaizumi just shook his head.

“No. You’ve talked about Oikawa Tooru, the idol. You haven’t talked about yourself that much.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that. Was there really any difference? He had already acknowledged that he was a different person now than whom he used to be. He was Oikawa Tooru, “the idol”. There was no distinction between that title and the kind of person he had grown to be. There were only memories.

“...What about you?” he asked, shifting to turn his body toward Iwaizumi, arms crossed and jacket held against his chest. “I feel like you don’t talk about yourself at all. All I really know about you is that you’re a total Godzilla nerd—” Iwaizumi snorted, “—you’re amazing with your hands, you’re a vegetarian, you have a killer spike, and…you care a lot about your friends.”

Maybe that would sound like a lot to an outsider looking in on the petri dish of awkward tension and intermittent banter that comprised their relationship, but Oikawa knew it was peanuts compared to the depths another person could possess. Despite Iwaizumi’s claims that he supposedly didn’t talk about himself often, he knew that Oikawa had a therapy dog and that there was a reason for that, he knew (now) that Oikawa had sabotaged his own athletic career with self-destructive tendencies, he knew how fragile his friendships were because his two closest friends were staring down almost certain death, and he knew to what lengths Oikawa was willing to go to change that outcome.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi started, “you already know I’m an alphaphile, which is, like, my worst—”

“Whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa—whoa?” Oikawa cut him off, hands flying around wildly as if to dispel the presence of Iwaizumi’s words from the air itself. Iwaizumi raised his brows at him. “Don’t—don’t call yourself that.”

“...What? Alphaph—”

“Shhh, sh-sh-sh-sh! Sh. ” Oikawa went so far as to place his hand over Iwaizumi’s mouth, startling the alpha into leaning backward slightly, but he made no move to remove the offending appendage, favouring a mildly irritated and extremely confused look with his eyes. “ Jesus. You can’t just— say that. ” This time Iwaizumi did slap his hand away, gesturing out with his arms.

“And why the hell not? It’s true—”

“ No. No. Stop.” Oikawa grabbed his shoulders instead, his grip a little tighter than strictly necessary, and stared directly into Iwaizumi’s eyes. “Look at me. Listen to me. You are not some kind of… pervert who preys on other alphas. You’re not. What an awful thing to say about yourself, Iwa-chan! Do you really think of yourself that way?”

“I—” Iwaizumi floundered for a response, but Oikawa could already see the answer dancing behind his eyes. He felt safe in assuming that it would have come readily in any other situation, any other conversation, with anyone else, but right now he acted as if Oikawa’s reaction had thrown him completely off-kilter. Oikawa would take that tiny victory.

“There is nothing wrong with the way you are,” he continued. “Absolutely nothing. You are not sick for being attracted to alphas. Do you understand that? Tell me you understand.”

“I-I—...” Iwaizumi was still at a loss for words, it seemed, and he still had that deer-in-headlights look on his face. Almost like a child being scolded for the first time. “You… Why—”

Instead of letting him finish, or addressing any version of the question he might have asked, Oikawa pulled him into a bruising embrace. Well, hopefully not literally bruising, but it was definitely the most intensely he had ever hugged someone before. Maybe it was the remnants of the alcohol in his system or some other equally lame excuse, but the thought of Iwaizumi truly believing himself to be a deplorable predator simply for daring to exist brought tears to Oikawa’s eyes.

A few seconds passed, and Oikawa was about to let go as the awkwardness of silence and inaction began to settle in, but that was prevented by Iwaizumi’s arms finally wrapping around him. Oikawa paused for a moment, then squeezed the other alpha that much tighter. Once again Iwaizumi’s unique scent invaded his mind, dragging forth the memory of Oikawa sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, an old, unused sketchbook spread across his lap as he tried to map the stars that shone through the small patch of sky he could see through the trees, assisted only by the campfire next to him.

He remembered that entry in his first diary with distinct clarity. It was a solidly laughable attempt at astrocartography at the ambitious age of seven, but he never discarded the pages even after discovering just how much more vast the night sky was beyond the gap in that particular canopy. He kept them around because they served as a potent reminder that there was always something new to discover, or some similarly cheesy reason he came up with as a child.

A tear slipped down his cheek. The memories were getting stronger every time he breathed in Iwaizumi’s scent. He felt equal parts selfish and miffed for wishing they would stop. After all, what kind of crazy person would want to turn away from something like this?

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi grunted, voice muffled by his shoulder. Oikawa hummed in question, sniffling quietly to try to compose himself, but it was a moot point. “Stop crying. That doesn’t even make any sense. I’m the one who should be crying.” Oikawa gave a weak laugh, turning his face into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck.

“You mean you’re not?” he accused without any heat behind his words. “After I gave that whole big speech? Unbelievable.” He felt, more than heard, Iwaizumi’s laugh rumbling in his chest. He let a few seconds pass before he spoke again, tilting his head to prop his chin on Iwaizumi’s shoulder now. “Iwa-chan?”

“Mm?”

“What did you go to university for?” Iwaizumi fumbled with a response before snorting, as if unsure how to parse the question. He still made no move to part from their embrace.

“What?”

“I wanna know what you studied for.”

“...Exercise science,” he answered after a moment. Oikawa furrowed his brows slightly.

“Really?”

“Yeah… I wanted to go into rehabilitation therapy. That was only after I met Bokuto and Akaashi, though. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do before that.” Oikawa hummed at that, considering Iwaizumi’s words in silence. It was heartwarming to know that Bokuto wasn’t the only one who went out of his way to support Akaashi. He was certainly one very adored omega. “...What about you?” Iwaizumi asked then. Oikawa pursed his lips.

“...I didn’t go to college,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t exactly need a degree to sing and dance on a stage,” he said, trying for a lighthearted tone that fell just short of convincing. Iwaizumi finally shifted to peel away from Oikawa’s arms, though not completely. His hands still rested on the brunet’s sides as he searched his eyes.

“Did you want to?” he asked. Oikawa shrugged, averting his gaze to the ground between their feet.

“I dunno… I never really thought about it,” he answered honestly. He was never really given the opportunity to think about any other career options. At first, it was always only volleyball. After high school, his choice was all but made for him. He had no drive to pursue anything other than what he knew he was already good at.

“...If you could go, what would you study?” Iwaizumi asked after a moment. Oikawa glanced up at him again, thinking.

“...Astronomy?” he said, voicing the first thing that came to mind. Iwaizumi’s lips quirked up at the corners and Oikawa couldn’t stop his own from mirroring the motion.

“Yeah? Wanna be the first one to discover aliens?” Oikawa stifled a giggle and lightly swatted at the other’s chest.

“No. Dummy.” He shook his head, trying (and failing) to fight the smile stealing across his face. “...Maybe. Actually, I just…really like the stars.”

At that, Iwaizumi curiously tilted his head skyward, Oikawa following his gaze to find the speckled canvas of the night sky above them. It wasn’t nearly as magnificent as he knew it could be if not for the light pollution in the city, but it was still a breathtaking sight. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. A nearly full moon beamed down from its apex, the only thing that couldn’t be diluted.

“...The moon’s beautiful tonight.”

His gaze fell back to Iwaizumi’s face in a heartbeat, a heartbeat that seemed to stall for a few sparing moments. Iwaizumi kept his eyes to the sky, as if completely unaware of what he’d just said. Does he…?

The other alpha finally lowered his gaze to find Oikawa’s again, seemingly taken aback by the fact he was already being stared at.

“...What?” he asked, guarded. Oikawa blinked and snapped out of his clouded thoughts.

“Uh…nothing,” he lied. “I should get you home, right? It’s gotten pretty late.”

“...Yeah. Guess so.”

They got in Oikawa’s car without further comment. In fact, they were both silent the entire drive back to Iwaizumi’s apartment complex. Their farewells were a little stiff. Iwaizumi hesitated as if he wanted to say something he just couldn’t find the words for, but eventually he just gave up and bid Oikawa goodnight. Oikawa waited until he was safely through the front doors before leaving to return to his own apartment, all the while turning those words over in his head on repeat.

Yes, he thought. Yes, the moon is beautiful tonight.