Iwaizumi bid his last client of the day farewell, graciously accepting the tip they offered him. He really loved all of his regulars, and he had quite a few. He specialized in athletic injuries when it came to his massages, since it fit rather well with his educational background, so he had a lot of clients come through the massage parlour who were professional or former athletes looking for relief for their worn muscles. He couldn’t help but find it a little ironic, after learning about Oikawa’s own leg injury. If he had known about that sooner, he might have offered his services in relieving any residual aches in his knee rather than the non-descript back massage he’d given Oikawa the day he came to his shared apartment.
The way his thoughts constantly drifted back to the alpha was beginning to get a little concerning, but he couldn’t help it. Especially not after what he’d witnessed in gym the other night. It was one thing to watch Oikawa play on television, but it was an entirely different experience to see it up close and personal, even if he weren’t in top form. Oikawa truly embodied everything about volleyball, that much was clear to anyone who watched him play. Iwaizumi could only imagine how mesmerizing it would be to see him play on a proper team, to observe him fully within his zone, aching for every point and analyzing the entire court.
Shamefully enough, the thought alone left him a little hot under the collar. Television broadcasts didn’t do the idol justice, not back then. Iwaizumi could just picture the intensity of Oikawa’s eyes while he watched and predicted his opponent’s moves, the stretch of his muscles when he went in for a real set, a real serve, the animosity in those serves. He could be a true beast on the court and Iwaizumi wanted to see every bit of it, and then some other stuff he didn’t particularly care to articulate in his own thoughts at the moment.
Since he didn’t have any more appointments that day, he decided to head out early, thanking his coworkers for staying to clean up that night. He didn’t really have anywhere else he needed to be, but he saw no point in lingering about in the parlour for four more hours until they closed up shop. His appointments could be fickle like that. Some days he was there from open to close (with generous gaps in between appointments, of course), and some days he only had one or two appointments with his regulars.
He passed through the shopping district on his way home, figuring he would stop to pick up some groceries since they were running low on a few things. Bokuto went through the meat like it was nobody’s business, and Akaashi tended to get moody if they didn’t keep nanohana around. Iwaizumi, for his part, wanted to stock up on a few more vegetables for his meals this week. He went inside and, as he was passing the clothing section on his way to the produce at the other end of the store, he caught sight of two familiar faces—an omega and his alpha (distinctly not the other way around).
“Kuroo, Kenma—hey,” he greeted with a note of surprise as he stopped by them. Kuroo looked up from where he was holding some sort of band shirt up to his chest, trying and failing to get Kenma’s attention to provide his opinion on the fit. He grinned when he saw Iwaizumi, extending his hand for their usual slap-followed-by-fist-bump greeting.
“Yo, Iwaizumi! Fancy seein’ you here,” the other alpha said. Kenma barely looked up from his phone, muttering out a quiet “hey” just to be polite.
“Yeah. I haven’t seen you guys since the storm a few weeks ago. How’s the damage?” he asked. He noted in the back of his mind that that had been the same storm he had met Oikawa in, but he shook it off as quickly as it came.
“Ah, not too bad. Had to get the carpet replaced and buy Kenma a new computer, but thankfully we were able to salvage everything on the hard drive,” Kuroo said, lifting a hand to muss up Kenma’s hair a little with a snicker. “Poor guy was in pieces over it. Never seen him show so much emotion at once—I was almost jealous!” Kenma clicked his tongue and lifted a hand to swat weakly at Kuroo’s, throwing him a dirty look through the curtain of his hair.
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not true and you know it,” he protested, his voice as quiet as ever, but carrying more than enough petulance to get the message across. Kuroo just chuckled.
“Well, anyway. How ‘bout you all?” he asked, turning his attention back to Iwaizumi as he rested the hand holding the shirt against his hip. “I know you and the lovebirds live a few stories up, but you didn’t run into any trouble, did ya?”
“Nah, we were all safely indoors before it got too bad,” Iwaizumi assured, neglecting to mention the trouble he did run into into the form of Oikawa Tooru. “So what are you guys up to today? I rarely ever see Kenma leave his dungeon.” Kenma’s eyes were firmly locked on his phone again, but his lips still twisted into a frown at the words.
“It’s not a dungeon. Don’t say it like that. You make it sound weird.” Kuroo, on the other hand, seemed to disagree, a Cheshire grin stealing across his face as he leaned over his mate’s shoulder.
“He’s got a point, yanno. We do kinda have a dungeon—” Kenma shrugged him off with a huff.
“Knock it off, Kuroo. You’re so weird when we go out in public…” The omega turned away from him, though he never left his spot. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile fondly and shake his head at the two of them. For as much as Kenma feigned annoyance at his mate’s antics, he never strayed far from Kuroo, always sticking close by his side when they were around other people. Iwaizumi knew it had a lot to do with his upbringing, but it was still kind of sweet to see between them.
“Heh, whatever, ya little freak.” Kuroo scoffed and turned back to Iwaizumi again. “We’re just pickin’ out a few new outfits for the concert tonight.” Iwaizumi raised his brows.
“Concert? You mean a loud, public, social gathering? I don’t believe it,” he said with no small amount of mock amazement. Kenma gave a loud, drawn-out sigh, indicating that he was still very much paying attention to their conversation despite his attempts to look disinterested. Kuroo laughed.
“I know, right? I was shocked, too. I just brought it up in passing and he was all, ‘so we’re goin’ then?’ Just between you and me, I think he might actually be excited.” Iwaizumi chuckled along with him, but he didn’t miss the way Kenma’s eyes narrowed into slits, even though they remained focused on his phone. He decided it was best not to push his luck any further. Kuroo could probably get away with a lot more teasing and taunting than anyone else, after all.
“What concert?” he asked instead, genuinely a bit curious, since he hadn’t gotten a good look at the shirt Kuroo was inspecting earlier. Conveniently, the other alpha lifted it up again, and Iwaizumi nearly choked on nothing but air.
“Oh, just Japan’s own indie rock star, Oikawa Tooru~” Kuroo said. “Ya know him? We were pals back in high school, yanno. Well, we knew each other, anyway.” He gave a smug grin, all too satisfied with his proclamation. Kenma scoffed softly.
“Knew of each other,” he corrected. “You used to hate him.” Kuroo frowned at that, bordering on a pout.
“We had our differences. Doesn’t mean I hated the guy.”
“You used to call him ‘Miyagi Prefecture’s Number One Shithead’ and said you couldn’t stand the way he smiled.”
“Kyanmaaa,” Kuroo groaned, lowering the shirt he held to slouch over Kenma’s shoulder dejectedly. “You’re makin’ me look so uncool right now.” Kenma took one, short step away from him.
“Don’t call me that, weirdo.”
“Wait, hold on, so…you know Oikawa?” Iwaizumi interjected before they could get too off-topic. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Kuroo had had connections to Oikawa in high school, considering they both used to play volleyball, but for some reason, it caught him off guard. After all, Kuroo and Bokuto were both close in high school, coming from the Fukurodani Academy Group, so he found it a bit strange that it was never brought up before. Then again, he supposed neither of them really had any reason to share that little detail with Iwaizumi specifically. It wasn’t as if he ever expressed much of an interest in the sport around them outside of casual conversation, nor did they share much of the same tastes in music.
“Yeah, kinda,” Kuroo said, straightening up again as he folded up the shirt to place back on the shelf behind him before he started perusing for a different one. Iwaizumi glanced around the racks and shelves to find that there was a decent amount of merchandise related to Oikawa, likely due to his concert that he was apparently performing at tonight. “You a fan?”
“Uh…” Iwaizumi wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that. After listening to some of Oikawa’s music, he could at least admit that it wasn’t awful, but would he go so far as to call himself a fan? Maybe not. Still, he deliberated whether or not he should spill the beans to these two. “...Not exactly, but I’ve listened to him a little… So he’s performing tonight?”
“Sure is. Hey, you should see if Bokuto and Akaashi are goin’. We could all meet up there,” Kuroo suggested, flashing a grin over his shoulder as he picked out another shirt and held it up to his chest again, this time turning toward Iwaizumi for his input. “What do ya think? Too gauche?” Iwaizumi glanced down at the flashy designs on the shirt, arching a single brow.
“Too desperate,” he said. Kuroo pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at him before reluctantly putting the shirt back with a grumble. Iwaizumi caught the very subtle quirk of Kenma’s lips from his profile. “I should probably get going. I’m sure Bokuto and Akaashi will want something to eat first if they are going to that concert. Maybe we’ll see each other later.”
“Lookin’ forward to it~!”
“See ya.”
Iwaizumi parted ways with them with a wave and continued on his way toward the grocery section, a medley of thoughts swirling around in his head. There was no doubt in his mind that Akaashi and Bokuto were going to Oikawa’s concert, considering how much Akaashi looked up to him. Did Iwaizumi really want to go with them? And even if he did, would there be any tickets available this short notice? Was it worth going through all the trouble?
Iwaizumi heaved a sigh. He really was just so fucked over Oikawa Tooru.
“I’m home!” Iwaizumi announced as he came through the door to his apartment, bags of groceries hanging from his arms. He ended up buying a little more than he originally intended, but that was just as well. It meant that he had more options when it came to preparing their meals.
“Be out in just a sec!” Bokuto called from his and Akaashi’s bedroom.
Iwaizumi set about putting the food away, still debating to himself what he was going to do about this evening. Did it even really matter? He was sure Oikawa would have a million other concerts he could go to eventually, and why did he want to go so badly, anyway? Sure, maybe he had small, wrinkly little feelings for Oikawa that he’d rather keep to himself, but that didn’t mean he had to go out of his way to go see him perform in front of a bunch of people screaming their heads off over him just because he was famous and looked pretty.
But he might appreciate Iwaizumi coming out to support him, right? Or would he just be upset for some characteristically dumb reason? Would he think Iwaizumi really was just an undercover fan obsessing over him? Was he obsessing over him? Or was he just clinging too hard to someone who didn’t immediately want nothing to do with him after finding out what he was?
He wasn’t given any more time to slip into his internal self-degradation when he heard his roommates finally emerge from their room. When he turned around to greet them, he found that they were both already dressed to the nines in idol merchandise that firmly answered the question about their plans for the night. He couldn’t help the deadpan expression that fell over his face at seeing Oikawa’s brand printed all over their shirts.
“Don’t look so jealous, Iwaizumi-kun!” Bokuto chimed with his signature grin, fists on his hips as he proudly boasted his godawful apparel that Akaashi undoubtedly picked out for him, probably a size too small on purpose so that Bokuto’s chest filled it out snugly. “We’re just showing our support for your celebrity boyfriend!”
“ Fake celebrity boyfriend,” Iwaizumi corrected, shaking his head as he moved to dispose of the grocery bags in their recycling bin. He left out the ingredients he would need to cook supper. “So you two are going to the concert tonight, too, huh?”
“Who else is going?” Akaashi asked, tilting his head.
“Kenma and Kuroo,” Iwaizumi said. “I ran into them at the supermarket. Hey, did you guys know that Kuroo and Oikawa knew each other? Well, sorta. I’m still a little unclear on that.” He rubbed the back of his head, still pondering the details about Kuroo and Oikawa’s high school dynamic.
“Actually, now that you mention it…” Bokuto lifted a hand to stroke his chin, eyes drifting off in thought. “I remember how much he used to complain about this really full-of-himself setter. Always used to say he was—”
“Miyagi Prefecture’s Number One Shithead?” Akaashi supplied with a quiet chuckle as he went to take a seat at the kitchen island. “Yeah, that’s the same guy, alright. They had some weird, one-sided rivalry thing going on. Captain stuff.”
“I never had a weird, one-sided rivalry with anyone,” Bokuto said with a pout as he came to sit next to Akaashi. Iwaizumi started pulling out the things he needed to cook with.
“Because all your rivalries were mutual?” he offered. Bokuto seemed to perk up at that.
“Yeah! It’s no fun if the other guy doesn’t know you’re out to crush them,” he said with a snicker, reaching a hand out for the bag of vegetables Iwaizumi left sitting on the island counter. Akaashi beat him to the punch, slapping his mate’s hand away.
“Don’t eat raw vegetables. You’ll get sick and spoil your appetite,” he chided. Bokuto withered just slightly and brought both hands to his lap, making Akaashi roll his eyes. “So are you coming with us?” the omega inquired. Iwaizumi glanced at him over his shoulder with an amused huff.
“Fat chance. I didn’t even know he was performing tonight and there’s no way I could get my hands on a ticket this late,” he said.
He was about to turn back to his meal preparation, but Akaashi softly cleared his throat, pulling something out of his back pocket and sliding it forward on the counter. Iwaizumi glanced down to see a fabled concert ticket, and then Akaashi spread his fingers to reveal there were three of them. Iwaizumi flicked his eyes back up to Akaashi, staring. The latter wasn’t looking at him, idly observing the rest of the kitchen.
“...Why would you get three tickets?” he asked after a moment of pregnant silence. “What if I say no?”
“Well, are you?” Bokuto asked, leaning forward with a knowing glint in his eye. Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at him, then, holding his gaze, reached out and slowly slid one of the tickets toward himself, snatching it off the counter and reluctantly folding it into his own pants pocket. Bokuto grinned. “Atta boy! Knew you couldn’t resist~”
“Shut up,” Iwaizumi snapped with an accusatory finger pointed at his fellow alpha. “You’re lucky it’s my turn to cook tonight or you’d both be going hungry.”
“Lighten up,” Akaashi said, a small smile of his own gracing his features as he passed one of the tickets to Bokuto and returned the other to his pocket. “It’s okay to admit you want to go see him. I think he’ll be happy if you’re there.”
“What makes you say that?” Iwaizumi asked as he returned to his task of preparing their food. He couldn’t think of one good reason why Oikawa would feel any sort of way about seeing him there, now that it was being discussed.
“I don’t know what’s really going on between you two,” Akaashi said, “but it’s obvious that he likes being around you. You might just be the only person who doesn’t see that.” Iwaizumi scoffed.
“Yeah, right. I’m just a… convenient means to an end for him. He’d say or do whatever it takes to keep me in the picture long enough to get what he wants.”
He wasn’t sure why the words came out sounding so bitter, or where they even came from to begin with. He might have had his own, reserved suspicions about Oikawa’s true intentions when it came to him, but saying them aloud sounded a little unfair even to his own ears. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel they were true. He wasn’t the kind of person someone like Oikawa would want to keep around for any longer than necessary. He was only interested in his own gain. Of course he would like anything he could benefit from. That was just how spoiled, rich alphas were.
Iwaizumi pursed his lips. No, that wasn’t right, either. Oikawa might have been both spoiled and rich, but he wasn’t that shallow. Iwaizumi could tell that much from their real-fake date the other night. After his friends left, he really had no reason to stick around, and yet he insisted of finishing out their night, and even humoured Iwaizumi’s little detour before they each went home. Why was he getting so bent out of shape over it, anyway? It wasn’t like any of that really mattered in the long run.
There were still only so many ways this little act of theirs would play out in the end, and none of them looked kindly upon Iwaizumi.
He heard Akaashi sigh.
“I’m not going to argue with you about it because you get pissed off every time I try, but just…don’t make up your mind about him so soon,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual. Iwaizumi let his shoulders fall somewhat, but he kept his attention on his cooking. “Otherwise, you’ll just be a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
He knew Akaashi was right. He had this annoying, persistent habit of being right all the time. It was as if he had the gift of prophecy bestowed upon him by some malicious god who wanted nothing more than to watch the world squirm around him. He had, on more than one occasion, predicted the outcome of a volleyball game right down to the point split, just from observing the teams play a few rounds. It was a little scary sometimes.
Thankfully, the conversation drifted to less uncomfortable topics while Iwaizumi cooked. He went with something light that accommodated his own diet: miso glazed eggplant with a side of braised burdock root. He was lucky that Bokuto and Akaashi didn’t mind his vegetarian meals most of the time (well, he knew Bokuto minded a little, being the meat-lover he was, but he also knew that Bokuto was too nice to say anything about it and enjoyed the way Iwaizumi prepared vegetables, anyway). He still bought and prepared meals with meat in them when it was his turn to cook on occasion, but he tried to avoid it as much as he could, and Akaashi normally handled that part, anyway.
After they finished eating, Akaashi revealed that he had also procured a third, matching shirt in Iwaizumi’s size (or rather, just a size too small, as he was wont to do) that he insisted the alpha wear. Thankfully, he didn’t try to dictate the rest of Iwaizumi’s outfit, so he had the freedom to put on a pair of black, form-fitting jeans, combat boots, and a dark denim jacket that Akaashi only glared at briefly before carrying about his business without further comment. He also supplied a bag of obligatory, multi-coloured glowstick bracelets “in case they got separated”. Iwaizumi refrained from pointing out that they could simply call each other if it were really that important. He and Bokuto both knew that this concert was mainly for Akaashi’s benefit, anyway, so neither of them dared to risk putting a damper on his night.
Once all their affairs were in order, they piled into Bokuto’s car. One day, Iwaizumi thought he might need to get a car of his own, but he shuddered at the mere thought. After failing his driving test no less than three times in high school, he eventually just gave up, and he was fortunate enough not to have needed one just yet.
Unsurprisingly, they put on a playlist of Oikawa’s songs for the entire drive. Iwaizumi put up a front of finding it obnoxious, arms crossed in the backseat while he stared out the window, but he couldn’t stop his foot from tapping to the beat of the music regardless. He would have to have been an idiot to deny the fact that Oikawa was talented, but for now, he could chalk it up to good audio editing and music composition. He would be forced to face the full reality of things once they got to the concert venue and watched him perform live, but he would save that existential crisis for later.
Once there, Iwaizumi took the liberty of texting Kuroo to inform him of their arrival, and soon they met up with the alpha and his mate just on the outskirts of the large, outdoor music venue. It was certainly extravagant, and maybe just a little overwhelming, but Iwaizumi could handle it. He could only imagine they must have planned to put on one hell of a show tonight.
“Why do ya look so pale, Iwaizumi?” Kuroo purred, slinking an arm over the alpha’s shoulders. “This your first concert, champ?” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.
“Hardly. Just…the first one I’ve been to that’s this big, ” he admitted.
“Aw, well don’t worry. We can hold hands if you’re worried about gettin’ lost~” Kuroo offered, extending his hand with a waggle of his brows. Iwaizumi disrespectfully declined the offer, slipping out from under Kuroo’s arm. Akaashi, to his credit, took the opportunity to clasp a red glowstick bracelet around Kuroo’s wrist, the alpha flapping the appendage curiously. Akaashi continued around their group until everyone had a bracelet, looking satisfied once he was finished as he returned to Bokuto’s side.
“We should go set up before our spots get taken,” the omega suggested, speaking just a little louder than normal to breach the droning volume of the steadily growing crowd in the amphitheatre. “We got front-row tickets.” Iwaizumi raised his brows.
“Seriously? Don’t those cost extra?” he asked. Akaashi shrugged.
“Figured it’d be worth it. You guys want to meet up here after?” He looked at Kuroo and Kenma, the latter wearing what must have been noise-canceling headphones around his ears, but at least he seemed focused on his surroundings rather than on a screen. Iwaizumi had to wonder what kind of appeal the omega found in being here if he couldn’t stand loud noises.
“Sounds good to me! See ya on the flipside, kids!” Kuroo agreed before wrapping an arm around Kenma and tugging him off to their own section of the venue. Iwaizumi stuck close behind Bokuto and Akaashi, letting them lead the way to the sectioned-off area just in front of the wide stage. There were no seats, so he prepared himself to stand for a long period of time. Gods, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been to a live concert. He must have still been in college, at least.
“Don’t be so stiff, Iwaizumi-kun!” Bokuto chastised, nudging his arm with his shoulder. “We’re here to have fun, remember?”
“I know how to have fun, ” Iwaizumi declared, crossing his arms over his chest. “...Sometimes,” he added under his breath, but evidently Bokuto was close enough to hear, judging by his giggle.
“Just follow our lead, yeah? Don’t wanna stand out in the crowd, right?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Actually, Bokuto was right. Iwaizumi wished they didn’t have to be standing right in front of the stage. He couldn’t help but worry about Oikawa seeing him and possibly flubbing his performance because of him. Then again, Oikawa was a professional idol, so maybe Iwaizumi shouldn’t have been so full of himself. Maybe he really did just need to relax and try to have a good time tonight. After all, he was still curious to see Oikawa perform.
The opening act was decent. Some other indie artist Iwaizumi didn’t know entirely too well, but he had seen them floating around on social media quite a bit lately. It at least helped him to get into the mood more than he was initially, considering he hadn’t exactly planned to go to a concert tonight. When it came time for the main event, though, Iwaizumi felt his nerves start to creep back up on him. The stage went dark, and it was late enough that he couldn’t really make out the shapes moving around in the open-faced dome, but then the lights came back on with a bone-rattling fanfare, aqua-coloured smoke billowing up from the edges of the stage as a silhouette came into view in the centre. The spotlight eventually focused on Oikawa with no small amount of dramatic suspense, and from this angle, with the lights shining over him just like that, Iwaizumi felt the air slip right out of his lungs. It was almost dizzying, seeing Oikawa like this, projecting every ounce of power and command over the audience that the rising tempo around them demanded.
He was dressed in a white and blue ensemble, the hue matching that of the smoke that still curled around his feet on the stage, glistening in vibrant, saturated sequins along his tailored vest and popped collar. There were straps and patterns all over his clothes that would have looked garish and unsightly on anyone else, but on Oikawa, they only served to accent his immaculate elegance. Iwaizumi could make out glitter in his hair, and it looked like he was wearing bright blue eye contacts. He was ethereal in every sense of the word and Iwaizumi couldn’t take his eyes off him.
The music suddenly fell silent when Oikawa’s voice rang out with such pristine clarity that Iwaizumi felt goosebumps all over his skin.
“Touch my heart…”
The music chimed through the venue again as the majority of the crowd sang the line back to him in harmony, drawing out each syllable in the same way.
“Touch my heart…”
Another echo filled his ears, but Iwaizumi was drowning out everything that wasn’t Oikawa’s voice. The music picked up its melody then as Oikawa turned his back to the crowd and walked away a few paces, just until the first verse hit. He spun around and addressed the audience with blood-curdling intensity.
“For the first time in forever,
I feel our hearts beat as one.
Eyes closed, we dance together,
We watch our souls come undone.
Take my hand, we sleep, we dream of
The rise and the setting sun.
Don’t be scared, I’ll be right here love,
Our endless night has just begun.”
Oikawa moved like silk across the stage, every step calculated, every twist of his body a page in his story. It was both airy and precise, light and sharp, and entirely too captivating.
“You breathe into me…
Blooming in my heart,
This rose...
Is tearing me apart!
This rose...
Look up at the stars,
And I know...
That no matter where I go,
This rose will always grow…”
There were no words to describe the way that Oikawa looked up on that stage. Maybe it was just from his perspective at the front of the crowd, having to crane his neck up to see all of Oikawa when he strutted to the edge of the stage, but he could say with absolute certainty that Oikawa was a god amoung men. The stage was his domain and he dominated it without hesitation. The tinted fog that still rolled across the floor did nothing to deter the image of divinity that was Oikawa Tooru. And yeah, maybe Iwaizumi was a little bit biased, but the roar of his audience seemed to be in total agreement.
By the end of the performance, Iwaizumi felt as exhausted as if he were the one parading around on that stage. He never caught Oikawa’s eyes like he was worried would happen and that was probably for the best. If he had to guess, Oikawa probably couldn’t even see the faces of his audience through all that fog and light.
Akaashi and Bokuto dragged him through the throng of invigorated fans to the concessions for some refreshments, gathering Kuroo and Kenma along the way. Iwaizumi kept throwing glances over his shoulder, wondering if there would be a chance to congratulate Oikawa before they left, but he was distracted from his curiosity (he wouldn’t deign to call it pining ) as they approached the concession stands and crossed paths with another group of people who happened to be chatting about someone whose name caught Iwaizumi’s attention.
“It’s a shame Hanamaki and Matsukawa couldn’t come tonight.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think Matsukawa would have come, anyway. He probably shouldn’t in the first place.”
“Yeah, that makes sense…”
“It’s for the best. You know I would have bailed if Hanamaki tagged along.”
“You’re still not over that…?”
Iwaizumi couldn’t help but eavesdrop when those two names were mentioned. He was relatively certain those were the names Oikawa gave him leading up to their “real fake date”. He didn’t recognize any of the people involved in the conversation, though…except for one.
“Kyotani-san?” he asked before he could think better of it. A fuzzy head of bleached blond hair turned in his direction, sharp eyes locking onto his. He had effectively put an end to the group’s discussion as the man he now was certain of being Kyotani turned to face him and bowed slightly.
“Iwaizumi-san.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Kuroo pitched in, a cool drink now in hand. He peered around Iwaizumi with that Cheshire grin on his face. “If it isn’t Aoba Jōsai’s very own Mad Dog. ”
“...Nobody calls me that anymore,” Kyotani replied, his brow twitching just a little. Kuroo gave a full-body shrug.
“Fair enough. Sorry to hear about your career, by the way. For what it’s worth, I don’t agree with the way they handled it.” Kuroo’s grin fell from his face to give way to a more sombre expression.
“He doesn’t really like to talk about it,” another voice chimed in, stepping closer to Kyotani’s side.
Iwaizumi’s gaze was torn from the shock of seeing Kyotani to the one standing next to him—very close to him now, actually. He couldn’t make out a distinct scent here; most everyone wore scent blockers due to the nature of the event, but after a moment of examining the other’s face, he realised he didn’t need a scent to identify this person as Kyotani’s omega mate: Yahaba Shigeru.
“Do you two know each other?” Yahaba asked, gesturing toward Iwaizumi. He seemed a little wary overall as his eyes flickered between his mate and this strange alpha in front of him. Iwaizumi shook himself out of his lingering stupor and offered a curt nod.
“Kyotani-san actually just started coming to my parlour recently,” he explained. “We’ve been working on— …Well, I can’t exactly say. Non-Disclosure Agreement and whatnot.”
“It’s fine,” Kyotani muttered out. “I fucked up my shoulder during a skirmish. Iwaizumi-san’s helping with my physical therapy.” He didn’t seem all that happy about admitting to his injury, but he also didn’t seem embarrassed about getting the help he needed.
“Oh, so this is the guy who’s able to bend you over backwards without you snapping at him, huh?” Yahaba mused with a glint in his eye. He glanced back at Iwaizumi and bowed his head. “You have my respect, Iwaizumi-san. Not many people can get away with putting their hands on this brute and walking away with both of them intact.”
Iwaizumi couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He could admit that it hadn’t been easy getting Kyotani to cooperate with him, but it didn’t take long for him to figure out what Kyotani responded well to and what set him off. He was an odd sort of alpha, to be sure, but Iwaizumi didn’t mind a challenging client here and there. Besides, they happened to get on quite well these days.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us Kyotani Kentaro is one of your clients now,” Akaashi muttered beside him, nudging his elbow into Iwaizumi’s ribs. The alpha rubbed at the spot with pursed lips.
“You know I’m not allowed to talk about that stuff…”
“Still, it’s pretty cool, right?” Bokuto gushed, bobbing his head in that peculiar way of his while he pinned Iwaizumi with his all-too-knowing eyes. “It’s about time you started meetin’ all of Oikawa’s friends!”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the two groups of people and this time Akaashi drove his elbow into Bokuto’s ribs instead. He started to complain about what he did to deserve that, but that was when he finally noticed the strange atmosphere he had inadvertently created. Kyotani, Yahaba, and the two other people they had been conversing with all looked at Iwaizumi with an identical, scrutinising glint in their eyes.
“You know Oikawa?” one of them asked—the one with spiked up black hair and shaved undercut. Iwaizumi cleared his throat, glancing around as if in search of some escape from this situation. It was one thing to scramble together a last-minute ruse when he had stumbled across Matsukawa in the restroom at the restaurant, but in front of all these people, he felt a little more put on the spot.
“Uh…yeah. Kinda,” he stalled.
He shouldn’t tell them that he was “dating” Oikawa, should he? That wouldn’t really lend itself to the impression he’d given Matsukawa about keeping their “relationship” under wraps. Which meant he now had to come up with another fabricated story to cover up the real one. Er, fake one. Whatever.
“How do you know him?” Yahaba pried.
“Are you close?” the one with the undercut asked.
“You didn’t say you actually knew the guy we were coming to see tonight,” Kuroo noted with an arched brow. It really wasn’t helping that his own friends were only adding to the pressure Iwaizumi was suddenly faced with. At least Akaashi and Bokuto had the decency to keep their mouths shut and their eyes askance for the time being.
“Uh… It’s—It’s kinda complicated, I guess…” He also wasn’t doing himself any favours here, but when his gaze flickered back over Kyotani, an idea popped into his mind. With a wave of tentative confidence, he cleared his throat. “As long as this stays between us…Oikawa is another one of my clients.”
The tension swirling in the air seemed to diffuse a little, allowing Iwaizumi’s shoulders to relax just a bit. Luckily, that seemed like the right story to tell. He would have to make quick work of catching Oikawa up to speed after tonight, though.
“Oh, really?” Undercut Guy hummed in thought. “I guess his knee must have started bothering him again.”
“It’s about time he started seeing someone about it,” the fourth, unidentified person commented, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s already ruined by now, though.”
“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Yahaba scolded. “The doctors said it healed up just fine and that he just had to be careful not to push himself too hard anymore.”
“Yeah, but when has that idiot ever listened to anyone about going easy on himself?”
“Show some respect for your former captain!”
“I barely even respect you… You’re asking for too much.”
“Hey!”
“Well, this has been a fun treat and all,” Kuroo interrupted, raising his hand toward the Oikawa groupies(?) with a faux-bashful smile. “But I really gotta get Kenma home. I’d say he’s about five minutes away from collapsing at this rate.”
True to his observations, Kenma had more or less retreated into himself, having pulled his hood up over his head with his eyes trained on the screen of his phone and a distinctly tense, restless energy in the way his fingers tapped against the device. Iwaizumi felt a little bad for him, but he hoped Kenma had enjoyed the concert, at least.
“We should all catch up sometime, though! High school is all water under the bridge now, right?” Kuroo offered. Yahaba scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“We’ll see about that. Don’t think we’ve forgotten about the training camp incident.” Kuroo laughed.
“Oh, yeah. Good times, good times. Talk soon, yeah?”
He didn’t wait for a proper response before he began guiding Kenma away from the venue with a carefree wave of his hand. Meanwhile, Yahaba shook his head after them and then regarded Iwaizumi, Bokuto, and Akaashi with a note of hesitance.
“...Well, we were just going to go backstage to meet up with Oikawa, so…do you guys wanna tag along?” he asked. Iwaizumi opened his mouth, about to say how that probably wasn’t such a good idea, but Akaashi slapped his hand over his face before he could get a word out.
“Yes,” he answered simply. Iwaizumi sighed and rolled his eyes, slapping Akaashi’s hand away as they all began walking toward the backstage area. He forced the omega to lag behind with him with a stern hand on his arm.
“What are you doing? We shouldn’t go see him right now,” he hissed. Akaashi gave him a cold look.
“ Don’t ruin this for me, Iwaizumi,” he warned. “I am not letting your charades get in the way of a proper autograph.”
“What? But you already have his autograph. I got it for you, remember?”
“I don’t have it on this shirt, do I?”
“Oh my gods, you’re literally impossible.”
“Hey,” Bokuto whisper-shouted as he timed his paces to match theirs. “You wanna get Kyotani’s autograph while we’re here, too?” He seemed much too giddy to feed into Akaashi’s trivial desires, seemingly with the sole intention of annoying Iwaizumi that much more, judging by the way he waggled his brows. Akaashi merely nodded in agreement, getting all starry-eyed as if he hadn’t just stood witness to a casual conversation with Kyotani a few short moments ago.
One of these days, I’m moving out, Iwaizumi resolved to himself.
When they arrived backstage (which was less of a stage and more of a fenced-off area with a few scattered security guards), Yahaba did the explaining to get the three of them clearance to join them with their VIP passes, which seemed like a fairly simple and easy task as they were let through without issue. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Did they really just let anyone get this close to Oikawa with a few convincing words? Some security…
It wasn’t long after that that Oikawa must have spotted them. Iwaizumi heard the telltale screech of excitement as the idol charged toward them, arms outstretched to envelop Yahaba and the other three (sans Kyotani) into a tight hug. Kyotani, for his part, kept a respectable distance, though he did offer a nod when Oikawa waved at him.
“So glad you guys could all make it! How was the show? Pretty awesome, right?” he started gushing as if already expecting their praise to come flooding in.
“Those contacts make you look like a robot.”
“Are you always gonna wear those weird outfits on stage?”
“Sounded kinda pitchy to me.”
Surprising nobody, Oikawa pitched an absolute fit over their teasing remarks, but that came to a screeching halt when his eyes finally settled on Iwaizumi, then Akaashi and Bokuto in turn. He fell silent and he stopped flailing his arms as if he suddenly weren’t sure what to do with himself.
“Hey,” Iwaizumi greeted with a somewhat awkward wave.
“Oh yeah, we ran into your physical therapist after the show,” Yahaba explained. “Hope it’s not weird that we invited him back here.” Oikawa blinked, catching Iwaizumi’s gaze again. Iwaizumi could only offer a slight nod, as if to confirm that this was the story he gave them.
“Oh, no, that’s fine! I didn’t even realize he was a fan!” he said, gradually slipping back into his idol persona. “And you two! Good to see you again!” He moved to hug Akaashi and Bokuto as well, laughing good-naturedly when Akaashi immediately handed him a sharpie and stretched out the hem of his shirt. “Once a fan, always a fan~”
“You know them, too?” Undercut Guy inquired, seeming more confused than before. Oikawa hummed in acknowledgement as he signed off his name on Akaashi’s shirt.
“We kind of just met and started talking a bit ago. Did you know they used to play on Fukurodani’s team?” he asked. Undercut Guy’s face lit up.
“Oh, yeah? That’s pretty cool! I always wanted to play against Fukurodani back in high school.”
“Well, be glad you didn’t! We would’ve crushed ya,” Bokuto preened. Yahaba scoffed.
“Yeah, right. Seijō was practically unstopped in our prime.”
“You wanna put that theory to the test, buttercup?”
“Buttercup…?”
“Yeah, ‘cause your hair’s shaped like a buttercup!”
“Says the guy who’s got frosted tips like an owl…”
“You tryna tussle? Let’s tussle! ”
In spite of all of Bokuto’s posturing and Yahaba’s taunting, neither of them made a move, and nobody really seemed to expect them to, either. Oikawa chuckled and put his hands on his hips.
“Now, now, boys, let’s not forget why we’re all here together. To celebrate me, remember?”
“No offense, but I think the only one paying attention to you right now is you,” Iwaizumi remarked, fighting back an amused smirk.
“Mean, Iwa-chan!”
The evening continued with similar banter, interrupted only by Oikawa being dragged away to take pictures and sign autographs for his actual fans. It was strange to see Oikawa in this kind of element, Iwaizumi mused. Bits and pieces of the Oikawa he knew bled through here and there, but it seemed obvious, at least to him, that the performance hadn’t ended for Oikawa yet. He was still putting on a show, even if he didn’t realize it himself. Of course, some of that had to do with the way they had to watch carefully how they interacted with each other and their own friends. There was a fine line to walk between masseur-and-client, secret-fake-boyfriends, and whatever it was that defined their real relationship with each other. Neither of them knew how much of which story they should be putting on display right now. All of this was new territory for both of them.
Unbeknownst to anyone, Kyotani had kept his eyes trained on Oikawa and Iwaizumi the entire time. It was easy to forget about his presence when he wasn’t actively trying to impose it upon anyone. He was quiet and observant, more than most people gave him credit for, and thus didn’t miss a single detail between the two people who seemed to be skirting around the edges of each other’s space as if getting too close or straying too far would have dire consequences. If it weren’t for the scent blockers that muted his ability to sniff out certain other details, he might have started piecing together the reason for this strange dance of theirs.
By the time they were wrapping up to head home, Iwaizumi had learned that the other two people’s names were Kindaichi and Kunimi, who also happened to be former players on Aoba Jōsai’s volleyball team with Oikawa. It made him curious, then, why their opinions seemed to be split on Matsukawa and Hanamaki. The two weren’t brought up in conversation throughout the evening, likely for good reason, but Iwaizumi had discerned from context that they had all been on the same team. He wondered how much they knew about the situation between Matsukawa and Oikawa, especially regarding Iwaizumi’s role in it all. He supposed he would have to figure that out later, though.
Kyotani and company took their leave first, bidding Oikawa goodnight and leaving Iwaizumi, Akaashi, and Bokuto with him. Without the obstacle of other oblivious parties in the way, Oikawa seemed to deflate a little, finally taking out the blue contacts in his eyes (which, admittedly, did look a little strange on him now that he wasn’t on stage).
“Well, that was fun,” he said with a heavy note of sarcasm. He took a deep breath and released it with a sigh as he faced the three of them properly. “I hope that wasn’t too awkward for you all…”
“No, not at all,” Akaashi assured. “They all seem very nice. I’m glad you’re still on good terms with them after…well, you know.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Oikawa said, chuckling a bit sheepishly. “Makki-chan talked to them after…the incident. Which reminds me—” he looked at Iwaizumi now, brow raised, “—physical therapist?” Iwaizumi cleared his throat softly.
“Yeah, that…kinda just slipped out. Kyotani-san already told them about our sessions, so…”
“Kyoken-chan?” Oikawa blinked. “He’s one of your clients?”
“Yeah, as of the other week,” Iwaizumi said. “Speaking of which…I guess I should put you on my schedule?”
They both hesitated at that, each of them calculating the pros and cons of such an arrangement to themselves. As far as Iwaizumi was concerned, now that so many of Oikawa’s friends were under that impression, it was for the best that they stuck to it. Even if Matsukawa caught wind of it, it wouldn’t punch any holes in their story. If anything, it would only bolster the image of their alleged, taboo relationship if Iwaizumi put himself in the position of Oikawa’s personal masseur. He definitely wasn’t supposed to develop intimate relations with his clients, and while going through with this could pose complications later down the line, he was confident he could manage them.
“...I guess we can try that,” Oikawa conceded. “You should know my schedule is very busy, though.”
“We’ll work around it. I’ll text you the receptionist’s number so you can set up the appointment.” Iwaizumi pulled out his phone to do just that so that he wouldn’t risk forgetting later.
“Okay, thanks… Oh—”
“Tooru-kun!”
They all turned around to see someone waving for Oikawa behind the ropes sectioning off the backstage area. She was a tall, pretty woman with long, blonde hair, but that was all Iwaizumi could make out in the dim lighting at this distance. Oikawa softly cleared his throat as he moved to start gathering his things.
“I should…get going. That’s my ride home tonight,” he said, though something about his explanation sounded guilty. Iwaizumi turned to watch him curiously. Whoever that person was seemed… familiar with Oikawa. Familiar in a way that made his skin itch a little.
“Catch you later, rockstar!” Bokuto bid him farewell with a chaste fistbump as Oikawa strode past them, pointedly not meeting Iwaizumi’s gaze as he approached the woman.
Iwaizumi watched as she linked her arm in his before they walked away together. That itch under his skin got a little more intense, his veins burning with something he hadn’t felt since that night at the movies. It was the same sensation that had made him glare so intensely at the lunatic alpha who stalked them in the theatre after Oikawa mentioned that he’d been hitting on him.
Now that same glare had befallen his features as he watched Oikawa and the woman disappear around the corner of the stage, arm in arm.
“Hey, man, tone it down a notch,” Bokuto warned in that tone of voice he used when he got protective over Akaashi. “You didn’t put on your scent blockers before we came here.” Iwaizumi snapped himself out of it, casting a glance at his two roommates who eyed him cautiously.
“...Sorry. We should go home, too,” he suggested, already walking back the way they came so they could return to Bokuto’s car. The other two trailed behind him at a distance, though he could still hear them muttering to themselves. He didn’t need to hear what they were saying to figure out what they were talking about. He tried not to linger on it, focusing instead on reining in his pheromones.
What was wrong with him, anyway? It wasn’t as if he had any right to get jealous over Oikawa. What was there to be jealous of? Oikawa wasn’t his. Oikawa wasn’t his mate, or his suitor, or even his real boyfriend. They were tentative friends at best. Whomever Oikawa chose to spend his time with outside of the charade they were playing was none of Iwaizumi’s business, even if that meant Oikawa was courting someone else. He had every right to do whatever he wanted, see whomever he wanted. Iwaizumi had no claim on him whatsoever.
A small fit of coughing scratched its way up his throat, and he finally decided to grab a drink from the concession stand as they passed it on the way back. He should have dressed a little warmer for a chilly December night like this. With his luck, he was coming down with a cold. That would be just what he needed to top off the night.
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The streets surrounding The University of Tokyo Hospital were fairly well-lit and busy even at this time of night, but that didn’t stop Kageyama Miwa from prowling through the back alleys, keeping herself close to the shadows as she took her time patrolling the area. She made sure to keep the hospital entrance well within view at all times, eyes peeled for any suspicious characters who might have made themselves known.
Yachi had asked her to stay away from the hospital, so that was what she was doing. She didn’t like that Oikawa Midori got exclusive access to go visit her whenever she wanted, but she could at least do her part from out here. There was no telling when Inagawa was going to make his move. For all she knew, he could have been targeting that Hanamaki kid first, but that was the least of her concerns. That guy got himself into this mess, and while Miwa was grateful that his actions had led to Yachi’s successful escape, she couldn’t be bothered to try to protect someone who meant next to nothing to her. Yachi was more important. Yachi needed this treatment to break her bond with Hagimura once and for all, no matter how long it took.
Of course, if Miwa had it her way, she would be hunting down Hagimura right this moment to collect his head. Sure, if he died, the bond breaking would be excruciating for Yachi, but at least it would be over with, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. The Kyokuto-kai wouldn’t give her the time of day to suggest something like that, though. She was only even here because securing Yachi would mean getting one over on the Inagawa-kai and strengthening their bond with the Yamaguchi-gumi. They could use Yachi to draw Inagawa out of hiding, and while Miwa despised the idea of using her as a bargaining chip like that, she knew it wouldn’t come down to a real trade.
At least, she hoped not. If it did, she wouldn’t think twice about disappearing with Yachi for however long it took. As much as she owed the Kyokuto-kai a great deal of gratitude for turning her life around, nothing, nobody, was more important to her than Yachi.
“A little late to be out here all by yourself, isn’t it?”
Miwa whipped around at the voice that seemed to creep up on her out of nowhere, a knife slipping into her hand in the same movement. She narrowed her eyes at the three shadowy figures that slowly approached her from the shadows at the back of the alley she was in. Once their faces came into view of the dim light seeping in from the street, though, she huffed out a scoff and lowered her weapon.
“A little creepy to be sneakin’ up on women in the middle of the night, isn’t it?” she shot back. The man in the middle smiled, causing the beauty mark right above his left cheek to crinkle. He could look so innocent sometimes, in spite of his lethal capabilities.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said with that wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing voice of his. “We were just wondering why you’re out here when our target is in there.” He nodded toward the hospital in the distance. Miwa pursed her lips, glancing at the other two on his flanks: one a tall, imposing beta with a resting face that could make babies cry; and the other a broad, yet unassuming alpha one might expect to see at a neighbourhood barbecue.
“...I’m keepin’ tabs on her,” she said. “Makin’ sure no one suspicious gets close to the hospital.”
“That’s real thoughtful of you, but I’m afraid that’s not your mission, Kageyama,” said the omega who stepped closer, never losing that unsettling smile on his face. “Your job is to get her out of there, so we can keep her safe.”
“ In there is safe for her right now,” Miwa insisted, holding her ground. Although, when the omega raised a brow at her, she felt her head dip instinctively, eyes falling to the ground. “...With all due respect, Sugawara-san, I think it’s best to let her go through with the procedure before we relocate her. It’ll be harder for Hagimura to track her that way.”
The omega paused at that, humming in consideration. He tapped the toe of his shoe against the pavement rhythmically and stroked his chin.
“...I suppose you have a point,” he said after a long, pregnant silence. He snapped his fingers in front of the beta standing to his right. “Take point on high ground. Keep a close eye on the target’s room,” he instructed.
The beta nodded with a grunt of affirmation before he retreated back into the alleyway. Then, Sugawara beckoned the alpha to his left to step forward. Obedient as ever, the omega’s mate did so without a missing a beat, tilting his head toward Sugawara when he lifted his hand to stroke under the alpha’s stubbly chin.
“Darling, do me a favour and keep Kageyama company for a while, will you?” he asked, sickly sweet honey dripping from his voice that the alpha all but lapped up like he was addicted to it. “We can never be too cautious, and I want to make sure our feisty friend here doesn’t do anything…unexpected. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, sir,” the alpha answered. Sugawara smiled softly and gently pulled the alpha closer to place a featherlight kiss on his lips.
“Be a good boy for me, Daichi. I’m counting on you.”
In Miwa’s opinion, the oddest sound in the world was hearing an alpha purr. Sugawara had this guy wrapped around his finger since day one and not once had Sawamura Daichi ever complained about it. Miwa, on the other hand, was going to start complaining if those two didn’t stop making goo-goo eyes at each other soon.
“I’ll be in touch, Kageyama. Let’s hope this little venture pans out for us, yeah?” Sugawara said, finally tearing his eyes away from his mate long enough to pierce Miwa’s with his cold, calculating stare. That look of his paired rather poorly with the robotic smile and wave he offered as he turned to take his leave. “Keep my boy safe for me, now.”
Sugawara dissipated into the shadows as if he were darkness incarnate, leaving Miwa alone with his whipped mate. Once absent of the omega’s presence, however, Daichi seemed to regain a little autonomy, the smile he directed at Miwa decidedly more human in nature than Sugawara’s.
“Guess it’s just us for now,” he said, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “You wanna grab some coffee since we’re gonna up and at it all night?”
The abrupt transition from smitten guard dog to…just a normal dude never failed to throw Miwa for a loop. Heaving a sigh, Miwa shrugged her shoulders and started walking toward the mouth of the alley leading out into the street.
“Yeah, why not?”
Seemed like it was going to be a long night, anyway.