When Iwaizumi-senpai is having a shitty day, he’s genuinely terrifying. And today is one of those days. During the morning practice, there’s tension in his broad shoulders and a clouded expression on his face. He doesn’t say much, sticking to monosyllabic responses. Kindaichi suspects something is wrong but doesn’t confirm it until he notices Oikawa-san being unusually calm around him. There are no annoying comments, he’s not flitting around Iwaizumi-senpai like a hummingbird, no teasing, no tossing balls at his back and hiding behind Mattsun, no jumping on him and hanging off him like a koala. Oikawa-san is just there, calm and collected, keeping the practice running smoothly without drawing any attention to Iwaizumi-senpai, giving him space.
This actually takes Kindaichi by surprise. But he says nothing, not that he had much time to anyway, since the bell rings just as he’s finishing changing, and he has to dash out like a bat out of hell, shoes in hand, his uniform shirt untucked, and his pants unbuttoned, racing to make it to his math class on time with the strict sensei.
It isn’t until the practice after classes that he thinks about it again, noticing how much worse Iwaizumi's mood has become.
If earlier his expression was clouded, now it’s completely dark. He doesn’t speak to anyone, and the only sounds that leave his lips are hoarse apologies. And it gets worse during the practice set they’re playing. Iwaizumi is an exceptional player, but today, all his hits and serves are, at best, terrible. His receives are mediocre, barely managing to save the balls deflected by the blockers, and his blocks are far below his usual level.
And Iwaizumi knows it, which only seems to frustrate him more, turning him into a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
Kindaichi tries to cheer him up with encouraging words, but they barely reach Hajime. He seems to be in his own world. He doesn’t even hear Irihata-san’s instructions.
It’s only when one of his intense spikes goes completely off course with a dull thud, plunging the gym into a heavy silence, that he finally snaps.
“To hell with this fucking shit!” he yells angrily, hands clutching his hair, pulling it in frustration and startling everyone. “Dammit! Fucking dammit! Fuck it!” He squats down, head bowed, huffing in an attempt to control his rage.
Yutaro blinks in near fear, clutching Kunimi’s shoulder tightly, who is too shocked to even protest. No one says a word yet.
Until, of course, Oikawa-san steps in.
“Okay!” He claps to get everyone’s attention, wearing an easy smile. “I think it’s a good time for a switch! Group C, you ready?” He turns to the bench where the first and some second years are sitting; they nod, still a little shaken. “Great, then come on in for us,” he encourages them, getting the coach’s approval.
“I thought my hands would fall off from all the blocking.”
Kindaichi barely registers Matsukawa-san’s and Hanamaki-san’s words, still watching Iwaizumi. His breathing is still a little heavy, and he soon stands up as the two third-years gently pat his back. He keeps his head down as he heads to the opposite bench from everyone else, shoulders tense and fists clenched.
Kindaichi twists his lips into a frown, letting Kunimi drag him to the bench. They drink water and towel off while the practice set resumes. The young boy tries to focus on his teammates, but his eyes keep drifting back to where Iwaizumi-san is sitting, leaning against the wall, one leg bouncing frantically, arms crossed, and a towel covering his head and face.
He’s alone, but not for long. Yutaro’s eyes widen in slight surprise when he sees Oikawa-san approach and sit down so close to Iwaizumi-san that their legs and arms are touching. For the moment, he doesn’t say anything, taking a long sip from his bottle before closing it and placing it on the floor.
And then, he casually places his leg over Iwaizumi’s, completely stopping his frantic movements. That’s when Iwaizumi rests his head on Oikawa’s shoulder, and the storm seems to calm. Kindaichi can’t help but blush in embarrassment, quickly averting his gaze, feeling like he’s intruding on an incredibly intimate moment.
But his curiosity gets the better of him, and he sneaks another glance at them. Oikawa is playing with Iwaizumi’s hand on his thigh, stretching his fingers, gently caressing them, intertwining them with his own. He’s moving his lips, speaking to him, and from the way they’re softly curled up, he’s either telling something funny or teasing him. Iwaizumi looks more relaxed by the second, and moments later, he pulls the towel off his head with his free hand, tossing it to the floor.
He still doesn’t say anything, just listening, staring at their intertwined hands. But his expression softens; he’s no longer frowning, and there’s a small tug at his lips before he finally speaks. Kindaichi can’t make out what they’re saying, but he feels a little better seeing that Iwaizumi-san is okay, so he turns his attention back to the game, enjoying it.
Though, a little later, amidst the shouts and the squeaking of sneakers, he hears Iwaizumi-san’s laughter. Yutaro blinks in surprise when he looks at them again because it’s one of the very few times he hears that laugh from him—so clean, loud, and genuine (though the one to coax it out of him is always Oikawa). He finds them in practically the same position, with his captain looking at him amusedly and his vice-captain still laughing, head now lifted to look at Oikawa with squinted eyes.
Oikawa’s leg is still over Iwaizumi’s. Their hands are still intertwined. Their arms still touch.
Kindaichi once again feels like he’s intruding on an incredibly intimate moment and looks away.
Oh, so this is what real love looks like.
i miss my laptop but i miss iwaoi much more
u can find me on my ao3 🍉
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