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The Gist: Oikawa could have anyone that he wanted... except for one.
wc: 2k
warnings: ANGST.
(The timeline for this fic is non-linear, sorry in advance for the whiplash!)
---
They used to hold hands.
He used to know the feel of Iwaizumi's hand- calloused, warm, big- as well as his own. He isn't sure, but he thinks it was around the beginning of middle school that Iwaizumi stopped reaching for his hand on the walk to and from school, or during lunch, or at night while they star gazed.
Now, Iwaizumi held girls' hands. He was into the small, delicate type of girl. The twig like ones with slender little limbs and long hair, and a small, perky bust. Tall, lean, muscled, strong and male Oikawa Tooru did not fit into that box.
---
It was in seventh grade, during health class, that Oikawa first learned of the Hanahaki disease. He sat in the desk beside Iwaizumi's, listening with a cocked head as the teacher pointed to the text projected on the board.
"Moving on to a disease that, today, is almost entirely eradicated... we have the Hanahaki disease. While it used to be more common, today it's only seen in the rarest of cases. How might one have a chance of catching it? Unrequited love. That is to say, loving someone who doesn't love you back. There is no medicinal cure; the only way to survive Hanahaki is to have surgery. Since the disease progress in stages, the sooner you catch it, the better your chances are of a full recovery."
Oikawa raised his hand.
"Sensei, what if you can get the person to fall in love with you?"
---
"Iwa-chan!"
The set sailed elegantly through the air to meet the ace's palm, before smacking through the two person block and onto the opposing side of the court. The nameless opponents from Raion Academy cursed as another point in the practice game went to Seijoh.
And... Seijoh was at match point.
Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a victorious smirk.
Iwaizumi responded by shaking his head, "Oi, they're about to serve. Pay attention, Shittykawa!"
The match ended with Seijoh's victory, of course. As the other school packed up to leave, Oikawa wiped at his minimal sweat with a towel. Chocolate eyes moved across the gym, before landing on his ace, who was still working through some cool-down stretches.
His Iwa-chan. Except, no. That wasn't really right. Iwaizumi was indeed not his, regardless of how much Oikawa wished him to be. An itch started in his throat, and he coughed. And, despite being halfway across the gym, Iwaizumi's head whipped around, green eyes drilling into the setter.
"Hey, you better wear your hat home, dumbass! The last thing we need is our captain getting sick."
Oikawa struck a pose, "my, is Iwa-chan worried about me? I'm so flattered!"
"Shut up!"
The cough returned on their walk home, and Oikawa wondered if he'd caught a cold.
---
"What do you mean, 'something went wrong'?! Is my boy gonna be okay? Is- is anything else impaired?" Oikawa Namiko tossed a gaze to the closed room door behind her, where Iwaizumi leaned against, gaze lost.
The doctor remained stone faced, brushing a dark strand of hair out of her eyes and gripping her clipboard a little tighter. "I'm sorry Oikawa-san, we had not anticipated this either. The only consequence of the surgery should have been losing only his feelings for that boy. Not... anyways. This must have been a complication due to how late Oikawa came to us. He had already progressed so far through the stages..."
---
They lay side by side, enjoying the tranquil summer night. The stars twinkled above them, as Oikawa pointed out an array of constellations. And then, they basked in a comfortable silence. Oikawa turned his head. Iwaizumi was still staring up at the clear night sky, defined jaw pointed up.
The moon's light cast a cool spotlight over his warm skin, and Oikawa's lips parted. Beautiful. He was beautiful, in every sense of the word. Then, Oikawa's eyes lowered. Their hands were a mere few inches apart on the grass. He could shift his closer, brush his fingers over Iwaizumi's. He could. But he wouldn't.
Because that would cross the boundary of their friendship into... a different kind of territory. One Oikawa wasn't ready to face. Not now. Not today.
Maybe, not ever.
But, it was okay to wonder. To imagine, what it would be like if Iwaizumi was his. If he could hold Iwaizumi, kiss Iwaizumi, show him his heart so that he could understand how deep his feelings ran.
Iwa-chan, he would whisper, I love you.
---
The waiting room of the clinic was quiet. An old lady sat across from him, her arm in a sling. A young boy and his mother sat a few chairs away, the little boy cradling a garbage bin to his chest. Ah, he really didn't like hospitals.
Oikawa lowered his gaze and twiddled his thumbs. I'm gonna do this. I'm going to get the surgery. Then Iwa-chan and I can go back to being just friends, like we're supposed to be. Before I screwed everything up.
"Oikawa Tooru," a voice called. He looked up, like a deer caught in headlights, at the nurse dressed in pink garb.
"I-I-"
"Sensei, what if you can get the person to fall in love with you?"
She smiled, albeit bitterly, "well, then you'd be a miracle worker, Oikawa. See, out of all those inflicted with the disease, 95% are cured only through the surgery. This is because love is a fickle thing, you can't force it. Only 5% have been able to make their person return their feelings. It's all about luck."
Luck, huh. Oikawa Tooru hated luck. It was a lot like talent. Something you had, or something you didn't, and if you didn't- oh well. No, he liked to rely on hard work and determination. In volleyball, he sought to prove that he could make it without being a genius.
So what if he hadn't been lucky enough to be born a genius? He'd make it.
So what if he'd been unlucky enough to contract Hanahaki? He'd beat it.
He hated luck. So screw it. Screw luck. He'd fight through this new obstacle like he did every other. With sheer will power, and some hard work.
"I'm sorry!" He blurted, before bolting, the clinic doors swinging shut behind him.
No more running away. He couldn't give up. Because, his feelings for Iwaizumi were too precious to forfeit.
---
Oikawa awoke with a hacking cough, and, slapping a hand to his mouth, he hastily rolled over onto his side. A few disgustingly wet coughs later, and something soft kissed his palm. His tongue tasted... sweet.
He pulled his hand away, and there sat a small, yellow petal.
He stared at the thing covered in his saliva, a pensive frown on his face. What was the meaning of this? Had someone snuck a flower into his salad yesterday without his knowledge? It did sound like something those hooligans Hanamaki and Matsukawa would do. Because, come on, there had to be a reason he just hacked up part of a flower petal, right?
Perhaps he could have brushed it off as an odd one-off, if only it didn't happen again. And again. And again. Every time, the same, yellow petals. He spent more and more time bent over sinks and toilets, choking for air until the damn things came up. He thought back to seventh grade health class.
Hanahaki.
----
He didn't know what the fuck his plan was, or what the hell he was doing. All he knew, was that he needed to do something, because screw giving up and letting the Hanahaki win. Why should he have to forfeit his precious feelings? They seemed to make up so much of his heart these days... he wondered what would even be left once they were extracted.
Oikawa raced out from the train station and bolted through the streets. As he rounded the bend onto Iwaizumi's street, he froze. Laughter echoed throughout the still night air, before Iwaizumi swallowed it up with a firm kiss to his girlfriend's cheek.
A little part of his heart wilted.
The girl waved him off before heading down the opposite side of the street. It was then that Iwaizumi spotted him.
"Oikawa? Where've you been? We went over to your house earlier to see if you wanted to tag along to the movies, but you weren't home." Iwaizumi's face was still flushed, from the cold or from his recent activities with his girlfriend, no one would ever know.
"I was out shopping, but I didn't find what I wanted." Oikawa shrugged and waved the topic away, "wanna catch up on some homework?"
"Sure."
They sat in Iwaizumi's room, working through a set of math problems together. Eventually, Oikawa broke the silence.
"Did you hear about Ichinose-san, Iwa-chan?"
Iwaizumi lifted his head, and nodded. "That she had Hanahaki? Yeah. I think it's silly, that she left it so long she almost didn't make it. I mean, really, are there any feelings worth your life?"
Yes, Oikawa wanted to say, there are. Instead, he hummed, "ah, so Iwa-chan thinks she should have gotten the surgery right away, instead of waiting?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
There's still hope. Don't give up. A tiny voice. A tiny glimmer of light through the billowing darkness. You're gonna beat this. Oikawa's hands clenched at the material of his shorts. It was now or never, there wouldn't ever be a perfect time, not in this world. He had to confess. You're gonna be that 5%, you're going to beat this.
And then another voice rose to combat, like you've "beaten" Shiratorizawa?
And once more, he was plummeted into darkness.
He knew what must be done.
---
Yellow Freesia.
That was the name of the flower he'd contracted, the flower that was literally growing inside of him, determined to suffocate him from the inside out. After doing some googling, Oikawa discovered that the flower originated from Africa, and that they were zygomorphic, and named after some German botanist. The most hilarious part?
They represented friendship. Fucking friendship. Oh, the irony.
It seemed that even the flower itself was mocking him. As if trying to kill him wasn't enough.
---
Oikawa Tooru awoke with a nurse hovering over him, breathing hot air onto his forehead as she gasped, "he's awake! Grab me a phone." She turned back to him, smiling and showing off a lipstick stain on her tooth, "welcome back, dear. Would you like to contact someone? A parent? A friend?"
Slowly, as he blinked dazedly around the tiny, white room, Oikawa's memories returned to him. Ah, right. I came here to get a surgery, without my parents' knowledge. It was for Hanahaki, but I can't seem to recall...
"Ah, yes. Thank you." He politely took the wireless phone and dialed his mother.
She arrived shortly after, his sister and Takeru in tow. Oikawa Namiko burst into the room, wrapping her son up in her arms. He... couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged his mother. Being wrapped up in her strong embrace brought a rush of feelings through him, and the tears came before he could stop them.
"Oh, Tooru, why didn't you tell me?" Namiko whispered into his hair, holding him tighter. "My dear boy... how much you must have been hurting..."
When she finally released him, his sister was next, giving him a more chaste hug while Takeru plopped down on the edge of his bed.
"Are you okay, Uncle Tooru?"
Was he? Physically, he was tired, but okay. The surgery had went well, especially considering how much the Hanahaki had progressed in his body. But still... he had a lingering feeling that something was off. He couldn't exactly place it, but it remained like an annoying itch.
Just then, a boy his age with spiky hair came running into the room, muddy shoes leaving a trail in his wake. He was wet- he must have got caught in the rain, without his coat. Green eyes rapidly searched the room before landing on him, and the boy stomped forward.
"Shittykawa, I'm gonna kill you once you're better. You... how could you not tell me? About it, about who it was for... I would have done something. I would have helped you confess, or been there for you if you still wanted the surgery. You don't- you don't always have to do this kind of shit alone. That's what I'm here for." After his long winded speech, the boy stepped forward and wrapped him in the tightest hug yet.
And Iwaizumi Hajime would never know anything different.
Wc: 4.9k
Warnings: Violence, major character death
---
He was nine years old when both of his parents were killed.
They hadn't been doing anything wrong, simply existing, but apparently that sufficed for a crime. Humans who had waged war against their kind for centuries called knights had slayed his parents, bringing honour to their names while condemning a demon child to become parentless.
Having escaped into the forest, a young demon child, made an orphan, wandered through the woods alone. His little bones ached for rest, but he ignored his weariness and continued to trek forward.
He paused at a pond, collapsing to his knees to stare at his reflection in the water. Small horns poked out from tufts of chocolate brown hair, and a tail flicked at the corner of his vision. Clasping his hands together and closing his eyes, he began to whisper an incantation his mother had drilled into him for years.
A glamour spell. One that required minimal energy, and lasted as long as the castor needed it to. It would temporarily erase his horns and tail, making him appear to be human by both sight and touch.
When he reopened his eyes, Oikawa's lips parted. It might as well have been a human boy staring back at him. But his gut stirred. There was something... almost sickening about pretending to be the animals that he hated, the animals that had brought upon him nothing but pain.
Oikawa rose on wobbly legs and continued forward to an unknown destination. He froze when he heard another creature tromping through the forest. Crouched behind a bush, Oikawa pried the leaves apart to peer through.
There was a boy, a human boy, with a wooden net. He chased after a purple and blue butterfly, determination riddling his lips into a frown. All of a sudden, the butterfly veered sharply, and the boy crashed into Oikawa's bush with a war cry.
Oikawa yelped as they tumbled together across the dirt and undergrowth, the butterfly fluttering away above the trees.
The spiky haired boy leaped to his feet and rounded on him, jutting the net out like a spear.
"Who are you, and why are you wandering so close to my village?!" the human shouted, adjusting his battle stance. Oikawa crawled backwards till his back met the trunk of a tree.
"I- I..." come on, think! Oikawa bit his lip, "I'm- I ran away from home, and I have no family left! And I'm just passing through," The best way to lie, was to weave in bits of truth.
The net wavered, but the boy remained resolute, eyes narrowing.
"You... don't have any family? What about your mom and dad then?"
Oikawa felt it again- the frog rising up in his throat. He bit down harder on his lip to quell his tears, and turned his head to the ground. He focused on the way the sun shone through the leaves, creating a speckled pattern of light. "They- they died."
Instantly, the other boy softened. First his eyes, then his jaw, his shoulders, and soon the net lowered. "Mine too," he said at last, brow furrowed. "So you ran away from your home because they're not around anymore?"
"Yes."
The spiky haired boy took a minute to properly digest this information. Then he stepped forward and extended a hand, "I'm Iwaizumi, and I live in the village just outside the forest."
Don't trust him, don't let him get anywhere near you. Oikawa eyed the hand before reluctantly reaching for it, ignoring the voice in the back of his head to instead admire the sheer green of the boy- of Iwaizumi's- eyes. Something in him yearned to trust this human, to trust him wholeheartedly. Oikawa thought that part of him was stupid and naive.
A loud growl disrupted the forest.
Iwaizumi laughed.
"Hungry much? Here, come back to the village with me. We can get you food."
Coming from Iwaizumi, the invitation sounded genuine. But a village full of humans... that was a horrible idea. His parents' deaths flashed through his mind, and Oikawa rapidly shook his head.
"No! I mean, no thank you. I think I'll stay here."
"Oh." Iwaizumi tilted his head and studied Oikawa, puzzled. Finally, he shrugged, "okay. I'll grab something instead then, and bring it back to you. Just, stay here, okay?"
Oikawa didn't know what to do except nod.
When Iwaizumi did come back, some time later, it wasn't with a hoard of humans, pitchforks and flaming torches. He simply offered some bread, butter, and grapes. "I know it's not much," he started, "but I figured you might want to take it slow if you haven't eaten in a long time."
Oikawa ate in silence, Iwaizumi plucking the occasional grape and throwing it into his mouth. But the human's curiosity must have got the better of him, because he sat closer and parted his lips. "How old are you?"
Oikawa took another ravenous bite of bread, "nine."
"Hey, me too!"
For the next three days, Iwaizumi trekked out to the woods and brought him food. On the third night, Iwaizumi lingered.
"Are you planning on staying here forever? Out in the forest like some kind of animal?" He didn't sound judgmental, more so worried. Oikawa poked at a fat green caterpillar. It squirmed away underneath the leaves.
"Maybe. Dunno."
"You should come back with me." Iwaizumi blurted, refusing to look Oikawa in the eye, "I mean, I know you didn't want to, but my oba-chan, she's really nice, and she'd let you stay with us, if you need to..." he didn't know why he was talking so much, it wasn't really like him. Iwaizumi pressed his lips together and glared down at the forest floor in frustration.
Oikawa curled his legs to his chest and rested his chin upon them.
---
He didn't know why he agreed to this, or what stupid part of his brain authorized this decision. Because, it was a horrible decision. Oikawa clutched Iwaizumi's hand as he was led into the wolves' den, jumping and squeezing Iwaizumi's hand even tighter when the humans looked up to watch them pass.
Why was he entrusting his life and his safety to Iwaizumi in the first place? This foolish human boy had no idea what he was, and if he did, surely Iwaizumi would rush to throw him mercilessly to the humans in the village.
But, something in his gut told him that Iwaizumi was good. Humans weren't good, he knew that much. Humans hated him, he didn't know why. But if Iwaizumi never found out, everything might just be okay.
"This is my home," Iwaizumi spoke proudly, stopping before a narrow, two story stone brick house. To the side of the house, a long clothes line spanned. Oikawa jumped when something furry brushed his leg. Iwaizumi laughed.
"That's Coco, she's a stray that keeps hanging around cause oba-chan keeps giving her milk." With no fear of the strange creature, Iwaizumi bent down to rub the cat's head. The cat slunk away, and the boys headed inside.
"Oba-chan, I'm home!" Iwaizumi called.
A short, stout woman wearing a messy apron with her hair tied back in a braid bustled through from around the corner, clapping her hands together, "Hajime, I thought you'd be gone all day! And how was your- oh, and who might this be?" her hazel eyes flickered to Oikawa, voice growing apprehensive.
Iwaizumi stepped forward. "This is-"
"Oikawa... Tooru." The brunet interrupted, meekly. The house grew quiet and still.
Finally, Iwaizumi's grandmother smiled. "Well, Tooru, why don't you go upstairs and find Iwaizumi's room? You can look through some of his toys while I have a quick chat with him."
Obediently, the demon boy tiptoed down the hall and up the stairs of the unfamiliar home.
"Hajime," his grandmother started, "who is that? He's not one of the village children, so where did you find him?"
"I found him in the forest, but that's not important-"
"-the forest? Heavens, where are the boy's parents?"
"They're dead." Iwaizumi spat, and his grandmother's eyes softened.
"Ah, I see. So you feel sorry for him. But we can't just take strangers into our home. We know nothing about him, or where he came from." She reached down to rub Iwaizumi's shoulder with a sigh, "I know you just want to help."
"I do, and that's why- that's why he should stay with us!"
"Hajime-" his grandmother warned, before she cut off by her grandson.
"-No! He's- he's all alone. He doesn't have anyone, and you wanna abandon him too? Well not me, I'm not gonna leave him." With his declaration said and done, the boy puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. He was ready to face whatever she threw at him.
His grandmother gave another weary sigh, one where you could almost hear her bones rattling. "Fine. He can stay a few nights, until I decided what to do with him. But he follows my rules of the house while he's here, just like you do. Is that understood?"
Iwaizumi's face glowed like a firefly in the dead of the night- fleeting, but beautiful. "Yes, yes Oba-chan!"
---
A few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months. See, Iwaizumi had begun to realize that Oikawa had a knack for charming people- there was something about him that you just couldn't say no to. And, Iwaizumi took equal pride in being immune to his new friend's charms.
As his stay in the village extended, the villagers who'd once been wary of him were soon wrapped around his little finger.
For Iwaizumi Hajime, life right now was everything that it should be. His days were filled with adventures with Oikawa, from bug catching to playing pretend in the forest to running around in in grassy fields ubiquitous with wildflowers, to getting revenge on the village girl who tried to chase Coco.
Life was simply everything a nine year old could have asked for.
---
At ten, Iwaizumi and Oikawa caught dragonflies.
At least, they attempted.
They spent hours at the edge of the forest, running through leaves and snapping twigs under their shoes, and yet they'd failed to catch a single dragonfly. They'd seen plenty, but the tricky little things were just too fast.
Then, out of a sheer bout of luck, a dragonfly flew right into Oikawa's jar. With a squeal, the brunet screwed the lid with poked holes in it shut, entrapping the buzzing creature. He paraded about the forest, holding the jar high above his head.
"Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan! Look!"
When they had to let the creature go, Oikawa cried.
At twelve, they tried to bake Oba-chan a cake when she left for the morning market, and almost succeeded in burning the house down. When she arrived home, they both latched onto her in tears.
At fourteen, Oikawa liked to stargaze, and always dragged Iwaizumi out to the hill to go with him. Whenever he couldn't sleep, it seemed, he wanted to go watch the night sky and view the galaxy in all of its brilliance. Unfortunately that was quite often.
They would lay, star-fished out among the tall grass and weeds, and feel like the only two people on the planet. If their fingers happened to brush occasionally, neither of them said anything.
At sixteen, Oba-chan left them alone for a two day trip to a neighbouring village, and of course, Oikawa got them both into mischief. He dragged Iwaizumi down to the cellar with an idiotic grin on his face, and grabbed a large bottle of liquor.
He drank like a fool, but Iwaizumi abstained and remained dead sober, reluctantly accepting his role as babysitter for the evening. They were playing cards when suddenly, Oikawa leaned over the table and pressed his lips to Iwaizumi's.
It was quick, it was fleeting, it was- it was- Iwaizumi's brain short circuited. It was a kiss. He just kissed me.
Oikawa leaned back with a dopey grin plastered on his face, forming a tiny heart with his index fingers and thumbs.
"I love you, Iwa-chan," he whispered into the dead stillness of the night, before laughing and tipping right off his chair.
At eighteen, they were grown men. Well, somewhat. The village had long since become Oikawa's home, as much as the people that inhabited it. His old bitterness towards humans had softened.
And at eighteen, one hot, sticky summer afternoon spent fishing in the river, Iwaizumi made his declaration.
"Hey, Oikawa... I've been thinking about this for awhile, and well, I wanna become a knight."
Oikawa nearly threw his rod into the swimming waters. A knight. The humans who slayed Demons. The kind of evil that killed his parents almost a decade ago. The tragedy that had brought him here felt like it was a lifetime away, or in a different lifetime entirely.
"That's... sudden." Oikawa spoke at last, voice stiff and clipped.
"I know, I should have told you sooner. I just, I didn't know if I was all in or not. So?"
"So what?"
Iwaizumi's brow furrowed, "what do think about it? I'd have to move away a couple of months for training, and then I'll be placed somewhere, and it could be far. I'd only be allowed to visit home occasionally."
"I think it's a dreadful idea," Oikawa sniffed, reeling in his line. "I mean, think how heartbroken poor Oba-chan will be when you leave? Of course I'd miss you too, if only a little. Still, there's nothing special about being a knight anyways, and don't you know the death rate?"
Iwaizumi frowned, chin lowered, "I know it, but I don't care. I told you my parents died a long time ago, well what I never told you was that they died because of Demons. Demons killed my parents. So this is... this is important to me, Oikawa. I want you to support me on this. Can you?"
Oikawa neglected to speak, instead he concentrated very hard on his fishing. Iwaizumi sighed roughly.
"I don't understand why this is such a big deal for you, but, if you really don't want me to go then... then I won't."
Iwaizumi sounded so far away, like Oikawa was underwater. The Demon scowled.
"Oh please, don't let me hold you back. If you want to leave me so badly, then go right ahead!"
"Oikawa." Iwaizumi was calm, as he placed a hand on his shoulder, "it's okay. I won't go."
At nineteen, Oikawa was content. Life in the village was quiet, and peaceful. Iwaizumi ended up staying, and they spent everyday together. It was almost like living in a dream. He should have known he'd have to wake up eventually.
"Great Demon Oikawa Tooru," the dark haired man spoke, except that he wasn't a man at all. He had horns poking up through his black tufts and a tail flicking at his side. The forest was all but silent around them, as though even the critters had tuned in to their conversation.
Oikawa had come out to the forest in search of some wild onions for Oba-chan while Iwaizumi finished with the dishes. The Demon disguised as a human was frozen, rooted to the spot.
"How- how do you know-"
The demon interrupted him, "- I come baring a prophecy. My name is Kuroo Tetsuro, and I am from an old family like yours. Ever since I received the prophecy, I've been searching for you. Please, allow me to pass on my message."
Oikawa was stiff, unmoving. A prophecy. He'd heard his mother speak of scarce Demons with the ability to read into fate and the future. And here before him stood one of those few, a dark haired demon without a glamour spell intact.
Oikawa swallowed and raised his chin, assuming the most regal pose he could, "go on."
Kuro knelt on one knee, unbothered by the damp, muddy earth.
"It is decreed by the fates that you, Oikawa Tooru, son of Oikawa Takei, will unite Demon kind as the Demon King, and save your people, ending the war. If you choose this path, you will live a short life. The other path the fates have offered you is this: live out your life here, playing as a human, and live in peace while your kind lose the war and are killed."
A choice... He got a choice in this? What the hell kind of prophecy was that?! Oikawa chewed his lip incessantly and mulled over this new information. He had a chance to save his people, and to end the war against the humans. But he would die young. On the other hand, he could stay here in the village and live a boring, common life with Iwaizumi. A long life free of bloodshed and pain, at the sacrifice of his people.
Before he vanished, Kuro bowed his head,
"You have until tomorrow after sunset to make your choice."
---
When Oikawa returned to the house, with a small basket of onion, he was eerily quiet. That night when he had settled down for bed, Iwaizumi had knocked at his door.
"Bullshit you are. Do you think I'm an idiot? You've been acting weird ever since you got back from the forest. So tell me what's going on." Iwaizumi's hardened eyes were resolute, as his lips drew into a tight frown.
Oikawa shifted on his bed, laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling.
"I'm tired, Iwa-chan." he spoke at last with a sigh. Lazily, his gaze flicked to Iwaizumi, who still hovered in the doorway. Iwaizumi. A long, happy future flashed through his mind. They'd spent over a decade together. Why should he have to give that up? Why couldn't he want a domestic, easy life? Did that make him a bad demon for wanting to stay here and turn a blind eye?
"Fine." Iwaizumi's gruff voice brought him back, "but we're continuing this in the morning, don't think you're getting off that easy, jackass."
Oikawa smiled, holding back tears, "Of course, Iwa-chan."
When he was finally left alone to his thoughts, his mind wandered down every avenue.
I don't have to do this. He didn't owe his people anything. In fact, all being a Demon had ever done was bring him pain. But in his years of pretending to be human, he'd experienced happiness, contentment, and an appreciation to simply be alive. It was much easier to be human.
He suddenly felt sick.
How could he think that? How could he ever think that? It was humans who had brought the pain into his life. It was humans who took away his happiness. It was humans who slaughtered his parents.
The sheets scrunched beneath his fists.
Oikawa Tooru disappeared into the night.
---
The throne room was dark, lit dimly by only a few torches on the walls. Iwaizumi heaved, the exhaustion beginning to kick in. He wiped dark blood- demon blood- from his forehead with his gloved hand.
Down the hallway, Hinata and the others were holding off the remaining Demons, so that Iwaizumi could do what he came here to do.
The knight took a deep breath in- blood, sweat- and exhaled to lift his chin. There, at the end of the room upon a red throne, sat a Demon cloaked in all black. He was regally posed, elbow resting on the throne's arm and chin propped on his fist. In-between fluffy brown tufts of hair, two dark horns were visible.
Oikawa.
But this was not the Oikawa who had stayed in the village with him for a decade. No, this was the Demon King who burned villages like his to the ground overnight, killed humans without batting an eye, and whose name struck fear into the lives of everyone Iwaizumi cared about. There was no way this monster was the same Oikawa he'd grown up with. Because if he was, then Iwaizumi would have to acknowledge the fact that he'd loved a monster.
And he couldn't do that.
"Ah, Iwa-chan. I've been expecting you, though I didn't think you'd come so soon." The Demon King drawled, head tilting to the side.
"Don't call me that." Iwaizumi growled.
With a cat-like yawn, Oikawa lazily stood. "Well, I suppose this is the part where we fight to the death? I must admit I've heard about your skills, and I hope you'll be at least a little entertaining for me."
Entertaining? Entertaining? Staring at this horrible, twisted version of Oikawa, a part of Iwaizumi's chest ached. "Oikawa," he began, voice dry, "why? Why did you deceive me, all of those years?"
The Demon waltzed down the steps leading to his throne, as though knights breaking into his castle to kill him was a daily occurrence.
"Because I was foolish. I was a silly child with grand delusions of the World, Iwa-chan. But don't fret, I now see you as the filthy animal that you are. Humans are so similar in structure to Demons, don't you think? Except they're a lesser version, weaker. Unfortunately, there just isn't room on this planet for the both of us, you know?"
"Is that your excuse for killing innocent people?!" Iwaizumi shouted, taking a defensive stance and brandishing his sword, "don't you feel anything for what you've done?" If you're the boy I knew, you do.
The Demon laughed.
"Do you feel any remorse for killing cattle? Because that's all you humans are to me. Cattle." He spat the last word out with malice.
With a war cry, Iwaizumi charged forward. Black magic shot towards him, but he dove to the side and kept running.
"Aw, you think you can kill me? How cute, Iwa-chan,"
The Demon's taunts bounced in his mind as Iwaizumi took his first swing. A wall of blue magic rebounded the strike, saving Oikawa from a blow to his arm. Oikawa tsked, "now that was a weak hit, it wouldn't have done me in! Come on, Iwa-chan, are you really serious about this?"
"Shut up!" He tried again, only to be deflected. Oikawa smiled.
"Now that's more like it. Keep it up, I want to see everything that you've got!"
As they danced around one another, Iwaizumi's rage grew. Ten years. Ten years he'd let this monster into his house. They'd done everything together.
In the split second that Oikawa took to recover his magic, Iwaizumi barreled into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Iwaizumi landed on top, straddling the other's waist and using his free hand to hold Oikawa's above his head.
Iwaizumi stared long and hard into those unfeeling eyes, searching for even a glimmer of the person he once knew. Of the soul that was once intertwined with his own. A lump rose in his throat, and he managed to choke out,
"Did you ever love me?"
Those eyes that had turned red shone with animosity and malevolence.
"I hate you." Oikawa spat, each syllable dripping with venom.
Ah. Iwaizumi lifted his sword. A million of the memories they'd made together flashed rapidly through his mind, but he tightened his grip. This is it. Today, I put an end to this monster.
As the sword came driving forward, Oikawa closed his eyes.
---
"Oikawa. I know you're still... settling in, but I've received another prophecy that will be of interest to you."
Oikawa turned from his balcony, voice bouncing off the stone walls. "Oh? Is it about me?"
Kuroo stepped into the new Demon King's quarters, shaking his head. "No, it is about Iwaizumi Hajime."
Oikawa's eyes lit, and his breath caught. "Well? Go on,"
"Iwaizumi will be the one who brings peace, but first he must seek vengeance before he can find that peace within himself."
Oikawa's lips parted in an 'o'. "Ah, I see. So I've... gotta become the monster for him to slay, right?"
Kuroo nodded, "in doing so, you'll be the one who allows for this peace to happen, by allowing him to kill you, thus, fulfilling your own prophecy. You must become the tyrannt Demon King- merciless and ruthless, and Iwaizumi will come to slay you. You will live a short life, but your death will bring peace."
Many months later, as his hands grew bloodier and his horns seemed to twist more and more, Oikawa confronted Kuroo again. He could... he could sense it- his death was soon coming.
"Kuroo." he started, voice uncharacteristically soft, "when all of this is over, you aren't to tell Iwaizumi about the prophecies. Not a single word. I don't want Iwa-chan to live with any guilt because of me, I want him to believe himself the Hero that he is. I can't... I can't bear to burden him any further. Okay?"
---
Here it comes. He wasn't ready. His body shook.
He didn't want to die.
But he had to. This was the path he'd chosen, and he wasn't backing out now.
I hate you. God, how it had broken his heart to say those words. Well, whatever heart he had left after the acts he'd committed. But they were necessary. Soon, soon the world would again be at peace. But first he, the monster, had to be slain.
I don't want to die.
And the worst part of it all, he'll never know how I truly feel.
With his final breath, he thought what he could never say.
I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime.
---
Iwaizumi dragged the body of the Demon King across the throne room, just as the doors burst open.
"Iwaizumi-san- you, you did it!" Hinata cheered, shaking Kageyama. Kenma filed in after them, along with Aone in the back. But Iwaizumi couldn't hear them, they were all but white noise against the sound of his own deafening thoughts.
He killed him. Oikawa was gone. Forever. The knight's silly illusions of talking things through, of saving his best friend had burned to ashes here inside this castle. Because Oikawa Tooru had been beyond saving, and he was no longer the boy Iwaizumi once believed him to be. He was a Demon. A Demon who'd committed atrocious acts against Humanity, and a Demon who deserved to die today.
Still, as he stared down at the lifeless body of his closest friend, Iwaizumi wondered what had started this war in the first place. Had it been Demons or Humans who'd made the first move? It doesn't matter anymore, a voice in his head reasoned, too much bloodshed has already been sacrificed. Need no more.
He couldn't avenge his parents. But, perhaps he could save some poor child from having to go through what he did. The tyrant Demon King was gone, so perhaps now the Demons could see reason.
He would find a peaceful solution.
Iwaizumi Hajime left the castle a hero.
---
Kuroo Tetsurou knew that Oikawa, whether he was in Hell, or whatever kind of afterlife existed for Demons, if there even was one, would not approve of this. He specifically told Kuroo that he was to stay far away from Iwaizumi Hajime, and to never disclose any information regarding the prophecies.
"I want him to be a hero. He doesn't deserve to guilt over me."
But, Kuroo didn't plan on bringing up the prophecies. He just wanted to give Oikawa's soul a good place to rest.
Oikawa's body was burned at a stake outside of his castle, signifying the end of his reign, and the end of the gruesome war. The heroes were quick to leave, eager to begin negotiations post-war. Once the courtyard had cleared out, and the sun dipped below the horizon, Kuroo waltzed out.
He knelt at the ashes, head bowed.
"You've fulfilled your prophecy, and brought peace to your people, as well as peace to the World. You have tainted yourself so that the bloodshed may end with you. Rest in peace."
A few days later, Kuroo traveled to the village where Oikawa had spent a decade of his life. In his arms, a simple, black urn. It was night, and the sky above was clear and twinkling. Kuroo trekked up the village's high point- a hill that was perfect for stargazing. He hummed a soft tune he recalled Oikawa singing on several occasions, a lullaby, as he dipped his fingers into the urn.
The ashes rained down onto the grass and wildflowers.
"Oi. What the hell are you doing?"
A hoarse, cracked voice interrupted.
Kuroo lifted his gaze. Iwaizumi Hajime, the Honorable Knight and slayer of the Demon King. The man who brought peace to both Human and Demon kind. Kuroo gave a tired smirk, "what do you think, Iwa-chan?"
The nickname sparked anger in those green eyes, as Iwaizumi marched forward.
"He doesn't deserve to be here." he spat, eyes locked on Kuroo's.
"Oh? And who are you to dismiss the rights of the soul?" Kuroo kept calm, but his heart ached. You will never know how much Tooru did for you, for everyone. He loved you so much that even now he's forbidden me from speaking the truth.
"Oikawa's soul has no rights after what he's done. I'm not gonna let him taint my village."
"It was his village too, you know. For a whole decade. I think..." The Demon mulled over his words carefully, not wanting to impeach on his promise to Oikawa. "I think he was happiest here."
Iwaizumi's gaze softened before it hardened.
"Get out. Leave my village, right now."
Kuroo placed the cover back on the urn, and made for the forest.
I'm sorry, Oikawa. I tried.
The Great War ended with the death of the Demon King, of whom all the atrocious acts of the Demons were piled onto. The end of his reign promised a new beginning, and for the first time in over a thousand years, things were looking promising.
History was cruel and unforgiving to Oikawa Tooru.
The Demon King was the villain.
The knight was the hero.
And Iwaizumi Hajime would never know anything different.
The Gist: You like Shizuo Heiwajima. Izaya can't allow the monster to receive such affection, and thus he hatches a plan. It doesn't go smoothly.
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: little bit of angst, really that's it...
________
You liked him. A lot. So much, in fact, that sometimes you worried your poor little beating heart couldn't keep up.
He was strong. Stronger than anyone you knew, both inside and out. He took down any opponents that came his way, never showing a glimmer of fear or doubt in himself.
He was kind. Others thought him scary, intimidating... and you were ashamed to say you were no different. Until you spied him in a back alleyway after school, offering the last mouthfuls of a bottle of milk to a scraggly black kitten with no collar.
He was always trying his best, especially when he didn't succeed at something. You'd see him lingering behind after class sometimes, stopping the teacher with a notebook and a few questions.
The only problem? You were shy. You didn't even know where to begin, or what to do or say. The only conversation you'd had with him, was at school, when he turned around to ask for an eraser. You'd stuttered through a reply, and nearly jumped five feet when your finger brushed his.
But today, today you were determined to have a proper conversation with him. It was after school, and he was out in the front courtyard, smoking. A terrible habit, but you didn't mind it. His bleach blonde hair stood out like a beacon among the grass, and the smoke created a trail that led right to him.
You ran the same scenario you planned out over and over again in your head, till it stuck there like cement. When you finally got up the courage to call out his name, he glanced around, looking confused.
Shizuo Heiwajima wasn't used to feminine voices calling out his name.
You trotted over, retrieving your cellphone from your uniform pocket and fiddling with the hem of your skirt. You rubbed the dark blue fabric between your thumb and index finger, the texture sending soft, soothing signals through your nerves.
"I wasn't here yesterday, and uh, I was wondering if you'd taken the note from Ancient History? If not, don't worry, I'm sure I could get it from someone else."
Shizuo cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, I've got it. But why ask me? I'm not exactly an outstanding student." He was blunt. But, you kinda liked that kind of transparency.
Well, see, this is all a stupid lie, since I already got the note from my friend. But I concocted this whole scenario just so I could get a chance to talk to you. Wow. It sounded so much more pathetic that way. You forced a smile that turned out too shy and sheepish, "I forgot to ask someone earlier, and I just caught you on the way out of school. But if it's too much trouble-"
"No, it's fine. I left my notes at home, though..."
"Oh! That's okay, do you have your cell phone?"
The sun burned down on you as you exchanged numbers with Shizuo, who, unlike you, was utterly calm and unfazed throughout the entire situation. With a casual assurance that he'd send you pictures when you got home, he stowed away his pack of cigarettes and headed off.
You stared down at your phone for a long time. The new contact "Shizuo Heiwajima" shined back, and a shot of pride swelled in your chest. I did it. I actually did it. You jumped when someone tapped your shoulder.
"Oh? Someone looks pleased with themselves. Honestly, you're pathetic."
None other the infamous Izaya Orihara slunk around from behind you, eyes sharp and lips tugged into a contemplative frown as he studied you. After what felt like hours, he spoke again, "Hope you don't mind the sudden interrogation, but I've just got to know- what about that monster appeals to you?"
Now, it was your turn to study him. To try and figure out what is angle was, what exactly is was that he wanted.
Izaya kept on to fill the silence. "I mean, I can't understand what any human would see in a monster. And Shizu-chan's the biggest monster of them all..." Reddish brown eyes tried to pry into your soul, desperate to seek answers. Because, Shizuo wasn't supposed to have girls crushing on him- everyone should be in fear of him, the beast. But here you were, swooning over Shizuo like he was any ordinary high schooler. It had to stop. It wasn't right. No where did this fit into Izaya's vision of Shizuo Heiwajima.
You fidgeted underneath his gaze, but forced your spine to straighten and your chin to lift. You'd known Izaya Orihara for a long time, been to the same elementary and middle school as him. And you'd watched how he'd changed over the years, but one thing never did. He always kept his distance. Never got too close to anyone.
So, you sucked in a breath through your teeth and armed yourself with the truth.
"With all due respect, Orihara-san, I think you're just jealous of Shizuo, because you're too scared to love anyone."
Izaya froze. Where on earth did a quiet, shy and unassuming girl like you get the audacity to call him out? This little interrogation was supposed to be about Shizu-chan, not himself. And yet here you were, turning the table around to him. He didn't like that. Not one bit.
The third year's gaze darkened to something cunning and malicious, but instead of scurrying away in fear like you were supposed to, your lips parted and your eyes softened. You had a near maternal shimmer in your eyes, like you were trying to comfort a child.
"I'm sorry," you spoke, a pastel kind of apology and unwavering genuine quality he couldn't see through- because there was no trick, no hidden motive. "It was the truth, but I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."
In that moment you saw right through him. And, he hated you for it.
---
Izaya watched you hopelessly chase after Shizuo Heiwajima over the next couple of weeks, and pondered every which way that he could make your life miserable. But then, an idea caught. Perhaps his goal should be the opposite. If he could play you like a fiddle, not only would he take you away from the monster, but, he'd also prove that no one could get the better of him.
So instead of making your life trash, he'd shower you in the love you so desperately craved, and steal you away from Shizuo all the while.
---
You fretted over Izaya Orihara the next couple of days, and deeply regretted what you'd said. Not really because it hurt him- many would argue that he deserved to be hurt- but because you'd just made an enemy out of him. Izaya was, well... he was Izaya. That was not a good thing. He was the worst person, even worse than Shizuo, to make an enemy out of, and you'd gone and pissed him right off.
Third year of high school was gonna be hell.
That week, you kept your head down, and stayed away from Shizuo temporarily. Because wherever Shizu-chan went, so did Izaya.
The fledgling info broker caught you on your way to your last class.
"(Name)!" He piped up, a smile as false as ever plastered on his face as he matched your pace. You quickened your stride and tugged your books closer.
Again a shocking confidence came with ease. You wish you could keep your mouth shut. "Izaya, what do you want?"
He smiled. "Just your time. What are you doing tonight?"
Tonight? What am I doing... oh. I get it.
"No, Orihara."
"No to what? That's not a proper answer, you know,"
"I know. But I also know why you're asking, and so the answer's no."
"Oh? And pray tell, why am I asking?" He drawled back, shoulder bumping against yours as the pair of you navigated the busy hallways of Raijin.
"Because you don't want to lose to Shizuo, that's why. I'm not going to be another one of your pawns, and whether you like it or it or not, I like Shizuo. You're just going to have to live with it, Orihara."
For a moment, the noir haired boy was at a loss. But like always, Izaya was quick to recover. "Perhaps. But did you ever think that maybe I am interested in you? Just you, nothing to do with Shizu-chan. You know, a girl's never quite talked to me in the nature that you did the other week, and how can you blame me for wanting to know more about such a unique human?"
"Whatever you say, Orihara. Excuse me, but I'm going to be late to class." You chuckled, like he'd told a funny joke. Then you brushed past him like a ghost before he could catch you.
---
Izaya's ploys for affection didn't cease.
The next week, he followed you around during lunch, successfully scaring off all of your friends. Then a couple days later, he invited you for dinner. You declined. Not long after, he wrote you the most beautifully constructed poem you'd ever read. He should've entered it into a contest, or something.
You pondered, not for the first time, how deeply Izaya must hate Shizuo Heiwajima. Going to such lengths for the sake of taking something from Shizuo...
Today, you'd artfully evaded him at school, and spent some time after class in the library. It was time to crack open the biology textbook, and start studying.
Twenty minutes later... and you snapped your pencil in half.
You jumped at first, then turned to cast a glare over your shoulder. "Oh, it's just you, Orihara. Could you pass on the antics for today? I really have to focus or I'm gonna fail this test." Flipping to the next page in the textbook, you turned back to your notebook and retrieved a new pencil. The library was empty except for the two of you. God knows where that useless librarian of yours had wandered off to now.
"Fail? Nonsense, not when you have me as your tutor," he took an unwelcome seat in the chair next to you. You made a loose shooing motion with your hand and shook your head.
"Nope. No way. I'm not letting this happen." You didn't know if you were speaking more to him or yourself.
Izaya smiled, all pearly whites, "don't be childish, biology is my expertise."
"Everything is your damn expertise," you muttered under your breath.
He took the snide remark as a compliment and grinned, "ah, learning about the bilayer? Well, it seems complicated at first, but if you look at it this way..." He'd snatched your pencil and started writing in his own neat scripture below yours, putting your penmanship to shame. His voice was constant and calming as he spoke, and you found yourself allowing him to shift a little closer, and you didn't even comment when his knuckle brushed yours.
All in all, you were shocked to admit that you'd enjoyed spending time with him.
---
Today you'd done it. Izaya had watched from afar, face lighting with a smile as Shizu-chan rejected you. You'd spent two months working up the nerve, all for Shizuo to say a simple no. But what irked him was that the smile wasn't simply one of hate towards his dear Shizu-chan, but one of relief directed to yourself.
It didn't make sense. And, he didn't want it to.
---
Izaya didn't understand why, but even after facing rejection, you continued to pine after Shizuo, like nothing had changed at all. The most obvious obstacle apparently meant nothing to you.
That afternoon Izaya leaned against the school's hard exterior with a yawn as a mousy third year confessed her love to him. He typically liked to play around with the girls when this happened, and he liked to see how long it took before he could make them cry. Not that he had anything against them, just that it was entertaining to see the limits at which he could push his dear humans.
But the longer he stared at this girl, the more her features began to tweak and twist into a very familiar person... you. He imagined how he'd react if it were you standing here and giving the confession instead. Instead of the expected disgust and slight humour, he felt a warmth swell somewhere within his icy heart. It threatened to thaw the ice, and that was not okay.
---
Very abruptly, Izaya stopped with the advances. It had been almost four months of his continued attempts and ploys for your affection, and now that he'd seemingly vanished... well, you kinda missed his company.
When he wasn't plotting or scheming, he was actually an okay guy to be around.
Maybe he's finally given up...?
For some odd reason, that thought made you very sad.
One day your feet brought you to his favourite rooftop spot before your brain could catch up. Sure enough, there he stood, waving off a group of guys as you approached.
"I'm afraid I can't entertain you today, I'm a little busy." Izaya replied smoothly.
"Oh please, you harassed me against my will for months, you can put up with me for a few minutes."
Smiling bitterly, he raised his hands in mock surrender. So, you went on.
"You finally throw in the towel, Orihara? Realize that my feelings for Shizuo are so out of your league?" Enunciating your words just enough to bug him, you continued on, a light breeze taking your hair and dancing with it, "I mean, there must be a reason you suddenly dropped out of my life, right?"
Izaya didn't answer right away, instead he turned to stare past the rooftop fence and out at the city. Horns honked, lights blinked, and buildings buzzed. You took time to look at him. Like, really look at someone. When you actually look at someone, you can find so many unique things. For example, his eyes- were they brown or red? You couldn't tell. How unique. Izaya's complexion was flawless, it was highly suspicious that you'd never once caught a single pimple on his face. His hair was nice too, it looked silky- you had a sudden urge to run your fingers through it.
Izaya's voice broke your trance.
"I stand by what I said a few months ago... you're a unique human."
"That doesn't answer my question," you quipped.
"You want an answer so badly? Fine, I gave up. Simple as that. Shizu-chan can have you, for all I care. Oh, wait. That's right, he doesn't want you."
Ouch. Clearly someone was upset. Your eyes narrowed, gaze growing heavy.
"You know how I said you were too scared to love someone?" He didn't answer, "well what if I told you I could relate to that?" Because I don't want to love a guy like you. But I think I might be-
"-then I'd say that's silly, since you're still pining after Shizu-chan."
"I wasn't talking about Shizuo."
The air prickled, charged with electricity. Both parties stood their ground, neither of you refusing to give in to the other. Finally, you spoke back up.
"You're a really crappy guy, you know that? Every time I turn around you're plotting something, always busy ruining someone's day. Don't you ever get tired of it?"
When he spoke, his voice was light as a feather. "Tired of what?"
"Of holding back, of limiting yourself to observing humanity but not allowing yourself to be among them were you belong. Isn't it exhausting?"
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he decided to take your advice against all of his better judgement, and let go once, if only for a few fleeting seconds. The kiss was slow, your lips soft. He didn't want to pull back, because he knew this would be the last time he got to experience this- this feeling, without holding himself back.
With the desperate nature of the kiss, he guessed you knew that just as well as he did, that this would be the exception to his golden rule. A brief, fleeting window that was about to pass.
As brief as it was, you let yourself love Izaya Orihara with all you had.
Synopsis: You were in love with him. But you didn't want to be. So, you deceived those around you, including him. But most importantly, you deceived yourself.
word count: 8.8k
warnings: drinking, attempted sexual assault (it gets stopped though), ANGST, profanity,
_______
Nine
You were nine years old when you transferred to a new school. Simply put, your father got a new job offering. So your family picked up and moved to Miyagi. Having spent most of your life in Tokyo, coming to Miyagi was... disappointing, to say the least.
"It's so... empty. Where is everyone, Ma?" you asked quietly, kicking at the back of the passenger seat as you stared out the back window of the car. As you bumped along the gravel road, you kept your eyes glued to the grassy fields and spacious countryside.
"Sweetheart," she began slowly, dutifully ignoring the dull kicks, "Miyagi is a... much quieter place than Tokyo. Once we get into town, you'll see how beautiful it is. There's plenty more space for you to explore around here, you'll love it."
As the endless, boring hills rolled on, you turned your lip up at a herd of patched animals. The cows grazed about their vast pasture, tails flicking in the breeze. Gross. "I hate this, why did we have to leave Tokyo!"
"Hey, don't be like that. Miyagi is a wonderful, charming place to live. This is what's best for our family right now." Your father cut in sharply. He kept his head forward, but steel eyes narrowed at you through the rear view mirror.
You squirmed in the back seat and crossed your arms, a petulant pout forming on puckered lips. "I don't care, I miss my friends!"
Mother sighed and shook her head. Father pursed his lips. He adjusted his hold on the steering wheel before replying, "you'll make plenty of new friends here, I promise. But you've gotta give this place a chance." His face relaxed, softening, "can you do that for me, Bee?"
The use of his little nickname sent warmth to your heart, and punctured the ice wall you'd put up. Little fingers reached up to fiddle with the silver and gold bumble bee charm that you'd gotten for your birthday last year. You let the necklace go, pendent resting over your chest.
"...Fine."
Upon reaching the suburban area, your hopes rose as houses became more abundant, and you spied a couple of buildings with more than two or three floors. But they had nothing against the skyscrapers that'd meant home. Your mother chimed out that you were almost there, almost "home".
For some reason that didn't sit well with you. Home. This place wasn't home. Home was bustling city streets. Home was flashing neon signs and lights. Home was ginormous shopping complexes and skyscrapers that seemed to touch the clouds. Home was Tokyo.
I miss home.
---
Stepping inside the empty house your parents dubbed "home", was like being in a strange dream. You wandered to the back of the house, spying a backyard that backed onto a forest. You didn't have a backyard in Tokyo. And you certainly didn't live this close to nature.
Turning around, you padded into the living room. A large window provided sight across the neighbourhood road. The houses each had some space between them, more so than you were used to. There were no bright billboards or flashing lights- just the occasional, dark lamppost.
Placing both hands against the cool glass plane, you continued to peer outside. The sidewalks- they were so small! How would anyone be able to use those without colliding with someone else! The roads were tiny too.
"Sweetheart," your mother called, "you'll get the glass all dirty. Why don't you come upstairs and pick out a room, hm?"
With a childish huff you trotted after your mother. She led you up a flight of creaky wooden stairs to the second floor hallway. The master bedroom was on the first floor, and there were three bedrooms upstairs. Your mother had assured you in the car that you'd get to pick whichever of the three you desired. Excitedly, you peered into the first room.
The walls were a peachy pink and the window faced out to the backyard. Like most of the rooms in the house, it was entirely empty. While some essentials had arrived early, the majority of your furniture wouldn't arrive to the new house until next week.
You stepped into the room, toes cushioned on the carpeted floor.
"Well, what do you think?" mother asked softly.
What did you think? This room was big, that was for sure- it definitely beat the size of your old bedroom. You'd have room in here for another massive bookshelf, like your old one from home.
"I like it, but... I wanna see the other rooms too."
In the end, you picked the second room. It didn't have a nice view of the forest like the first, nor was it as big as the last, and to be honest, you couldn't explain why you liked it so much. It was just a feeling. An indescribable urge to claim this bedroom as your own. This room was not carpeted, and the window faced the neighboring house. It wasn't the largest room either.
"I want this one!"
"Are you... sure? I don't want you to fight once your brother arrives," a hand ghosted over her belly, as your mother smiled absently. "That last room was quite big, but if you want this one, we can turn that into a play room of sorts. And your brother can have the first room."
Your brother. It was weird, you thought. How mother spoke of him as if he was here and in front of you, but he wasn't born yet.
"I'm sure, mom." a bright grin overtook your face for the first time since arriving in Miyagi, "I like this room."
---
"I don't wanna!"
"Come on, Bee. I spoke with the neighbors last night, they've got a boy your age. Don't you wanna make friends?"
"No, I don't!"
Here was the situation. Your parents wanted to introduce themselves to the neighbours, and they wanted you to go along. This is annoying, so it's threat level yellow. But, they want you to make friends with the boy next door. This is threat level red. You don't want to make friends. You can't make new friends.
I can't replace my friends from home- that would be horrible!
You did promise Reiko after all, that you wouldn't forget your friendship. And that was a pinky promise, mind you. So no take backs. Reiko couldn't just be replaced by the boy next door, that would be crazy!
Your parents didn't seem to get that.
"Come on, go get out of your pajamas and let's head over. You two can play while your mother and I talk to the adults. It'll be fun."
You stuck out your tongue.
---
The doorbell rang with a chime. A pretty teenager with dyed blonde hair answered the door.
"Hi uh, you guys must be the new family that moved in next door...?" she shifted awkwardly from side to side, casting glances over her shoulder. "Just a sec," she disappeared, a loud mom! echoing throughout the house.
"That must've been the eldest daughter," your father murmured, "Oikawa-san was just telling me she'd been accepted to her top University. Smart girl,"
The trio of you stood on the front porch. You leaned forward to peer through the ajar door, but your mother pulled you back with a tight lipped frown. A minute later, the door swung open. A gorgeous brunette stood on the doorstep, attention given to her long limbs by the short, navy dress she wore. Elegant makeup accentuated her facial features perfectly. You thought she looked similar to a barbie doll you had. Pretty...
"Oh, you must be the (Last name)'s! My husband said you'd be coming over for a short visit tonight. Sorry, I'm still all dolled up from my day in court. But please, come in, come in!" The excitable woman ran a hand through her wavy brown locks, earrings sparkling in the light of the setting sun as she opened up the door. "Honey, they're here!"
"WHO'S HERE, MOM!" Another brunet came whipping down and around the corner, skidding right into his mother. She chuckled, hugging him at her side and ruffling his hair.
"I was talking to your father, dear. This is my youngest, Tooru. My daughter Kotaru was the one who answered the door. And my darling husband is god knows where..."
As your parents began to talk, you sized up this Tooru. So this was the boy next door... He had his mother's eyes and hair, and he was short. Shorter than you. He was wearing an aqua blue tee shirt and dark shorts, and had a toothy smile. He must have felt your eyes on him, because he blinked right at you. You froze.
But he just smiled.
"What's your name?"
Your mother saved you, "this is our daughter, (Name). Sweetheart, why don't you go play with Tooru while we visit with Oikawa-san?"
Everyone's eyes fell to you, and you shrunk. "I... I don't wanna." It came out barely a whisper.
"What was that, Bee?" your father coaxed.
You swallowed and spoke up. "I don't wanna play with you! I don't want to be friends with you either!"
Your mother gasped and crouched down beside you, blocking your sight of Tooru. She spoke calmly, "That was rude. Apologize to Tooru, now."
But you crossed your arms and stuck your nose in the air.
"No! I'm not making friends with him, and you can't make me! I'm going home!"
You stormed back outside and ran across the lawn before anyone could stop you. In your absence, your mother sighed and frowned towards the Oikawa's. "I'm so sorry about (Name), she- she isn't taking the move very well. Tooru dear, she didn't mean that and I'm sorry." your mother twisted over her shoulder to meet your father's creased face. Honey, maybe we should go,"
Your father was at a loss for what to say. Thankfully, Tooru's mother cut in.
"We understand. It must be hard to leave your home behind at their age... how about we try this again another night?"
"Yes, we'd love to." your mother gave a grateful smile, before escorting your father out the door.
---
The second time you met Tooru was a week later. It was August, summer break was almost over, and you'd be joining a new elementary school in the middle of the term. Thankfully, this meant you had no summer homework. Unfortunately, attending a new school was downright terrifying.
On a high note, the furniture had arrived. Big boxes and little boxes were everywhere, and as your parents scrambled about unpacking everything, your father suggested you head to the neighbourhood playground just down the road.
Since you were bored, you decided to listen to him for once.
You swung gently, legs kicking back and forth for some momentum on the swing. The playground was otherwise empty but you didn't mind that at all. Humming an unnameable tune, you craned your neck to look up at the clouds.
Tokyo clouds and Miyagi clouds looked the same, you mused. Weird.
"Over here, Iwa-chan, let's go on the swin- hey! It's you!"
Your head snapped forward at the bold accusation. And there he was, Tooru. Except today he had someone with him. Another boy your age with spiky hair and sharp eyes.
"What do you want?"
He ignored you to turn to his friend. "Iwa-chan, help me banish the evil witch from the swings!"
Evil witch? Evil witch?
"Hey! I'm not a witch!"
"You said you didn't wanna be my friend. And if you're not my friend than you must be my enemy! Iwa-chan and I are superheroes that protect the whole neighbourhood, and if you're our enemy, than you're the evil witch we must defeat!"
His friend, Iwa-chan, dutifully stood with his twig sword at his side.
Oikawa Tooru raised his own stick high into the air. And then he charged.
You leaped off of that swing so fast the seat flipped, but you didn't look back. Two crazy kids were chasing you with sticks, after all. But you didn't get far when slender fingers grabbed a fistful of the back of your shirt and then the world was tipping, and you were tumbling across the grass.
"Aha! I did it, Iwa! I caught the witch!"
You laid on your back, a heavy weight atop your chest. Oikawa sat there, waving his twig in the air.
"Oikawa," Iwa called, jogging over. "I'm bored of this, let's go play with my volleyball."
"Wait, wait! I'm not done yet," he pleaded, before focusing back on you. When those big, chocolate eyes met yours, your lips parted. So many colours seemed to reflect in those eyes. You blinked. Oikawa grinned, "Do you surrender, witch?"
You spat out your reply before he could blink, "Never!"
"Hm... you're a lucky witch, I just might know a way to reverse the curse put on you, so you can turn back into a hero like Iwa-chan and I!"
If you weren't an "evil witch", did that mean he'd stop chasing you with sticks?
"Fine... what is it?"
"You have to say sorry! If you say that one word, the curse will be broken!" Oikawa declared.
Your brow furrowed. Lips pressed together. Nose wrinkled. There was no way you were apologizing to him! But... if the alternative was being smacked and chased around all day... Face relaxed, you glanced up at Oikawa.
"Fine. I'm sorry."
Oikawa paused. Like he really hadn't expected that to work, or for those words to come so easily. The stick fell to the ground beside you, and he looked kinda stupid like that- lips gaped, face frozen, brown eyes still. But he shook it off and beamed down at you.
"Curse broken! Our next mission is beetle hunting, right Iwa-chan?" Oikawa didn't give the other boy a chance to cut in before continuing, "Come with us!" He leaped up, retrieving his sword from the grass. Then he grabbed his friend by the sleeve and tugged him forward.
"Well, now that we're all friends," you bristled at the word, and Oikawa shivered, "let me introduce you to Iwa-chan!"
The spiky haired boy playfully swatted Oikawa's hand away and stepped forward. "I can introduce my self, dummy. I'm Iwaizumi Hajime, and it seems like you must have met Oikawa before. If he's ever being super annoying, I learned that a good smack does the trick."
"Hey!" A flabbergasted Oikawa stepped in between you two. "Iwa-chan, don't say that! Don't listen to him, he's a jerk sometimes- Ow! Iwa-chan!"
"See? Works every time."
"Huh. That is a pretty cool trick."
"Hey, guys! I'm still here, stop being meanies!"
And so begun the most meaningful friendships of your life.
---
Eleven
Sixth grade. A short period of time, where you got to experience being at the top of the food chain at school. While it didn't seem to faze you much, a certain alien-obsessed idiot soaked up any and all admiration he received from the younger grades like a sponge. Iwaizumi kept him in line pretty well, though.
"Did you see that? (Name)?"
Oikawa's sneakers thudded back onto the gym floor. The sound of the volleyball smacking onto the other side of the net echoed throughout the empty gym. He craned his neck around to the bleachers, were you had been doing homework with Iwaizumi, waiting for him to finish up his individual practice.
Middle school was quickly approaching after all, and Oikawa's love of volleyball only rose. He had to get better. He would get better. He'd make his middle school's starting line up, he had to. Because a future didn't exist where he wasn't standing on the court.
But you weren't in your spot, only Iwaizumi sat there. He had a textbook out, how funny. Iwa-chan trying to understand mathematics... Oikawa's eyes fluttered around the gym, before spotting you at the mouth of the bleachers, chatting animatedly with a female classmate of yours. But most importantly, not paying attention.
He'd been working on this new overhand serve all week!
Iwaizumi glanced up from his work to shout, "you done yet, dumbass? I wanna go home,"
Neither one of them can appreciate my hard work! Oikawa sighed, and smacked another volleyball over the net.
---
Twelve
You weren't the most social person out there. You weren't completely introverted either, though. It was more like, you had no motivation to meet new people. You had your two best friends after all, it felt like that was truly all you needed from the world.
Even if some days Iwaizumi was too blunt, or nagged you about completing an assignment on time. Even if some days, Oikawa smacked you in his sleep on a mattress on Iwaizumi's bedroom floor, or asked you a million times how his hair looked that day.
For all their faults- and your own- they were undoubtedly named your best friends. Between the sleepovers, movie marathons and adventures in the forest or the town, the days bled happily into one another. You almost couldn't remember a time where you weren't close with them. You didn't want to.
It was the last month of sixth grade. You'd be graduating elementary school in March, and then middle school would begin. The three of you were headed to Kitagawa Daiichi, and the boys had their hearts set on joining the volleyball team.
"I'll meet you guys at Hajime's after volleyball practice then...?" you prompted, the three of you headed to your shoe lockers after final period.
"Yeah, but I'm picking the movie this time."
"Hey! Don't give me that look, my movie choices are always supreme!" Oikawa chirped, hugging a book closer to his chest. You walked between them, humming.
"I agree with Iwaizumi. That last movie you had us watch, about the freaky alien invasion? That was messed up. And just plain disturbing."
Oikawa balked, "Excuse you, that was an excellent movie. Body snatchers is a classic trope, you can't deny it!"
You popped a disbelieving brow before stopping in front of your locker. Oikawa's was only a few feet down, same with Iwaizumi's.
Oikawa muttered quietly to himself about appreciating western culture, and swung his locker open. But out shot a pink envelope, landing on the top of his shoe. He blinked. Finally remembering how to function, Oikawa bent to pinch it carefully between his thumb and index finger, examining the telling heart sticker that sealed it.
"Oi, is that what I think it is?"
Oikawa felt Iwaizumi's presence at his side, and you twisted around to see what was going on.
Oikawa's eyes had gone wide as he thumbed the envelope, feeling the smooth, pink texture against his finger pad. He knew what it was, obviously. And yet his mind still struggled with wrapping itself around the idea that he... a confession letter.
The first of many he would receive throughout the next handful of years.
Oikawa gently opened it, careful to cause as little damage to the pink envelope as possible, as though it were a living thing with feelings.
Dear Oikawa-san, it read. Chocolate eyes scanned each word carefully. The contents of the letter were lovely. She talked about how amazing he was at volleyball, how she was also headed to Kita first, and was so excited, and about how talented he was in his academics. She went on to say she thought his presentation in English was wonderful, and how he could convince anyone of anything. She asked him to meet her in the back courtyard on Tuesday, tomorrow, after school, to let her know his answer to her confession.
A droplet splashed onto the crisp, white parchment, smudging the black ink signature at the bottom. Rain? But they were inside, and-
"You really crying over this, Dumbkawa?" Iwaizumi grunted, though there was hardly any real judgment in his words. You joined him, lightly jostling Oikawa's shoulder.
"Yeah Tooru, better not get all teary when you go and meet her tomorrow."
"Meet her? But I... wouldn't even know what to say. Or how to say it. I hardly know her..."
If you could see the future, you'd have laughed. Oikawa Tooru, unable to handle girls? Hilarious. But for now, you only felt a warmth in your chest, and something that softened the skin of your face. He's sweet.
If only he stayed that way.
---
Thirteen
Middle school was a totally new era. You'd been booted back down to the bottom of the school food chain as first years, and tossed into a much more competitive environment. First off, it appeared that there were some new expectations for girls at the middle school level.
"Shit!"
Sitting before your wooden dresser, you wiped the smear of black off your cheek. It only smudged more, and you furiously wiped till your skin turned red.
Makeup. All the girls wore it, now. How they magically became so good at it, you had no fucking clue. Perhaps they'd been practicing in private the last couple of months, preparing for this new daily routine you weren't made aware of.
"What... are you doing..."
Cheeks flush, you whirled around, "Oh shut it, Iwa-chan! I'm trying, okay? It's just really fricken hard!"
A rumbling laugh echoed at the door way as your spiky haired best friend leaned against the door frame. "Well, don't be too long. We've still gotta pick up Oikawa before school, and knowing his hair routine... we could be awhile."
Funny, how Iwaizumi lived almost a whole block away, and he met you here before Oikawa- your next door neighbour- did. You grinned, a mischievous glint playing in your eyes.
"Don't forget about his skin care routine,"
"Fucking unbelievable, that shitty guy..."
You turned back to the desk and mirror. Taking a long moment to evaluate the mess that was your face, you heaved a sigh. Well, this clearly isn't working. "I give up," you muttered, swatting the eye shadows and concealer and mascara and blush aside, reaching for the removal wipes.
As anticipated, Oikawa was not ready when you reached his house. Treating it as you treated your own house, the pair of you walked on in without knocking. Oikawa's parents were both gone to work already, and his sister didn't even live here anymore. For the majority of the time he had the big space all to himself. Lucky bastard. What you wouldn't give to be free of your mother's constant hovering and nagging...
Oikawa was hunched over the bathroom sink. He had several open bottles laying about the marble counter, as he fluffed damp fingers through his hair. You sniffed the air- his products smelled like the ocean- sea salt and a fresh, strong breeze. His usual. It's kinda nice- no. You caught yourself, before following the boys to school.
---
Volleyball in middle school was far more intense than elementary. It stole your time away with your two best friends, and although you still saw them each and every day... it just wasn't the same. You didn't like it.
It was one thing you couldn't share with the boys, and it made you feel like an outsider.
"It's a short practice today, why don't you wait up in the bleachers? Then you can get a front row seat to my new attack combo with Iwa-chan!" Oikawa declared, as though this were a great honour. You rolled your eyes and shrugged your bag over your shoulder.
"Sure, why not."
---
While you stumbled your way through the beginnings of middle school, someone sure seemed to thrive. He'd been lucky to hit some early growth spurts, at this point he could blend in easily with some of the third years if he so desired.
"Which table did he say to meet at, again?" you voiced, loud enough to battle against the chaos that was the cafeteria. Iwaizumi stood at your side, lunch tray in hand as his sharp eyes scanned the room.
"Think he said by the windows near the West courtyard."
Oikawa had a different class before lunch than the two of you, so you'd collectively agreed to just meet up in the cafeteria. But the place was bustling, busier even than the very first day of school.
It had been only two weeks in this new environment. But already, Oikawa had found a way to make it his own.
Unbelievable.
At a table near the windows sat Oikawa, but he wasn't alone. A gaggle of girls surrounded the table, and others flocked around the general area, trying to catch his eye.
"Look who's Mr. Popular," you grumbled. Iwaizumi raised a brow, but didn't comment. The pair of you strode across the busy dining room, having to elbow your way through throngs of girls to get to the damn table.
You slammed your tray down, nearly sending your chocolate milk flying.
Oikawa's eyes lit up, "guys! You found me, I was a little worried you might not see me. It's pretty busy here, isn't it? Nothing like elementary school." Long fingers fluffed through his hair as he talked, absently coming to a pause to scratch his nape before falling back to his side.
Oikawa's own tray looked slightly different than yours or Iwaizumi's. For starters, the mound of chocolates. The cafeteria gave a piece of chocolate, one piece, to each person, and yet somehow Oikawa had accumulated, what, twenty?
"Oikawa." you greeted flatly. "Mind introducing us to your... friends?"
He chuckled sheepishly, then turned to Iwaizumi to save him. Iwaizumi did nothing, merely jutted his chin as if to say, go on. The brunet gulped.
"Ah well, this here is-"
"Mae," a snowy blonde at his side jumped in, flashing a row of perfectly straight teeth. She sidled closer, "I'm a second year, I was just giving Oikawa the scoop on all of the teachers at Kita," her voice resembled that of a kitten's purr, and for some reason she really irritated you.
"Right, Mae." Oikawa nodded and gestured to the left, "and this-"
"Seiko."
"Mira."
Two girls answered almost in synchronous, and then tossed competitive glares at one another. Both were ravens with pale skin, but that's about as far as the resemblance went. Oikawa laughed nervously.
Before he could even speak, a chorus of introductions chimed out from girls all around the table. You shook your head and rested it on your fist. Already, you could feel an impending headache.
If only his popularity was short-lived.
Fifteen
Things got weird in your final year of middle school. Little things that had never bothered you before had begun to. But they only seemed to center around a single person.
Oikawa had always been the clingy, touchy type. It was simply how he expressed his affection towards others, and when you were younger you didn't care if your limbs tangled on the couch, or if you shared a mattress with him or Iwaizumi- or both. Sharing tents on camping trips, eating out of the other's bowl of food, borrowing hoodies- those had at one point, that seemed very far away now, been the normal between you two.
It bugged you, whatever this unknown issue with Oikawa was. He was a pain sure, but he was your best friend. So the question was, why didn't the same problems now apply to Iwaizumi?
You played with the sleeve of a grey hoodie, Iwaizumi's hoodie, feeling a shred of guilt underneath layers of confusion.
Why was Oikawa any different...
And then,
What's wrong with me?
Something light bounced off your cheek and fell to the wood desk. Eyes narrowed into slits, you glared up. Oikawa snickered to Hanamaki, and tossed you a teasing peace sign over his seat, tongue stuck out and all. Yes, definitely a pain...
Hanamaki chuckled along with him, totally feeding into Oikawa's bad traits.
It was last period, and it was Ancient History. Today was a study period and a catch up day for any incomplete work. The teacher had left a minute ago to refill his cup of coffee in the staff room, leaving the class to their own devices. Bad idea.
Unfortunately, Iwaizumi wasn't in this class. So in other words there was no one around to keep Oikawa's bullshit under control. You unscrewed the lid of your water bottle, and waited for Oikawa and Hanamaki to turn back around to the front. Once their whispers subsided, you took action.
Dipping your fingers in cool water, you flicked it forward, successfully sprinkling your target.
Oikawa gasped in shock.
"Hey!"
You smirked and leaned back in your chair. Hanamaki just continued to laugh, clearly enjoying the role of the observer. But with one quick look to the door, Oikawa got up and marched on over. He paused directly in front of you, giving you time to try and anticipate his next move.
He leaned forward, and delivered a hard flick to your forehead.
"Bad (Name)-chan," he scolded, like you were a misbehaving puppy.
Temper sparked, you lunged for the front of his shirt across your desk. He evaded the attack, but in doing so, his arm swung into the uncapped bottle.
You blinked, dowsed. The light blouse of the female uniform turned almost transparent, showcasing your brightly coloured undergarment underneath. And on the one day you neglected to bring the dark blue cardigan with you. I'm gonna kill him. And this time, I mean it.
"Tooru! Look what you did,"
"Me? How is that my fault, you tried to hit me first, I was just dodging!"
"I don't care. Now my damn blouse is see through, thanks a lot!" Upon blurting the words from your mouth, you realized perhaps stating the obvious had been a bad idea. Any classmates who'd been ignoring you up until now stopped to tune in. You felt... horribly exposed. Most literally.
Oikawa hovered a hand in front of Hanamaki's eyes, "Don't look, Makki!"
"Ha? Why do you get to look, then?"
"Because, it's just, it's different!"
"Oikawa, I'm going to the washroom. Go to Iwaizumi's classroom and get his blazer. Got it?" It was more of a demand than a question. But Oikawa's brow scrunched, as he stepped forward.
"Well why don't you just use my blazer? It was, kind of- maybe, partially my fault anyways..."
No. You didn't know why the idea of wearing his blazer sent shivers down your spine, or warmed your face. You didn't want to know, either. Still, he draped the item around you before you could argue.
You raced out of the classroom to dry off in the bathroom before he could see the faint blush spread across your cheeks.
Sixteen
High school was another big shift in your life. You found yourself distancing from Oikawa, sticking close to Iwaizumi instead. Oikawa most definitely had caught on to a change in your behavior around him, but you could tell he didn't know why. And it annoyed him endlessly.
Guilt trickled in your gut, but a much stronger, uglier concoction of jealousy consumed you.
The pink letter was ripped to shreds by your hands, and tossed without care into the trash.
You knew it really made no difference, since he received dozens each day- so why go to the trouble of doing this at all? It didn't make sense. And the poor girl who'd slid it into his shoe locker had looked so kind and so innocent... and you'd just taken her brave confession and destroyed it before it could reach it's intended recipient.
Despite this, an odd sense of victory welled in your heart.
It felt good, to destroy that letter.
You didn't know why.
And you didn't want to.
Eighteen
The final year of high school was a wild one. Full of parties, of course. Because what better way to go out then to go out in style? From meaningless relationships to new and old friendships to final exams to University acceptances and scholarships...
Yeah. It was a pretty crazy year.
"Don't cry, dumbass." Iwaizumi spoke, voice gravelly as he wiped at his own tears.
"Yeah, you guys look like idiots," you sniffled, wiping the sleeve of your graduation gown across your damp cheek.
Oikawa didn't answer with words, but with a wail, fresh tears trailing down his face.
This was it. For the three of you, this would be the first time you'd be separating... ever. Oikawa was going to Argentina, and Iwaizumi to the United States. You were staying in Japan, for now. Tonight was a night of celebration, and a night of goodbyes.
"Y-you guys have to promise to video c-call every week!" Oikawa cried. He looked pretty ugly with tears and snot all over, and you wished his fan girls were here to see him now. The three of you stood on the Seijoh courtyard, and Oikawa directed his eyes to the sky, where the first stars of the night had began to appear.
You didn't understand why your heart ached so much when you looked at him.
Twenty One
You were going to Argentina. So was Iwaizumi. The three of you had already reunited in Japan last year, and visited the US the year before that, so it was finally time to head to Argentina.
The past few years and distance hadn't destroyed the strong bonds of your trio's friendship. The void of distance was instead filled with phone calls, video calls, group chats- you name it. Any way the three of you had found to connect, you did. It was that easy.
And, you'd felt good being separated from Oikawa. Don't misunderstand, you still missed him and Iwaizumi deeply. But those strange, foreign feelings you didn't understand had mellowed- softened, in his absence.
You'd managed many relationships, though none lasted long.
Despite all of this, going to Argentina set a heavy pit into your stomach. Why?
Oikawa's girlfriend.
He'd been a womanizer all through high school, and hardly had any relationship last more than a few weeks. He went through girls like a smoker went through a pack of cigs. But then this mystery woman came along and swept him off his feet. She understands me, he'd ramble, we connect on a deeper level. Something about those words stung.
Anyhow, he'd been with her for over a year now, setting his best record. And you'd get to meet her in person for the first time.
You dreaded it deeply, and it didn't make sense. How could you hate someone you'd never actually met?
I must be a horrible person.
---
You met with Iwaizumi at the airport in Argentina, receiving him with a strong hug before the pair of you headed to Oikawa's.
You knocked twice on the door of a fancy penthouse apartment. A gorgeous woman you recognized from Oikawa's photos answered the door. Blonde hair cascaded; a waterfall over her shoulders, and big, innocent blue eyes blinked at you.
Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and cheeks as she smiled, "ah, you're the infamous duo I've heard so much about, come in! Oikawa's in the other room, but he hardly slept at all last night knowing you guys were coming."
Her laugh was like wind chimes in the spring.
You hated her already.
I'm horrible.
"Iwa-chan, (Name)!" Oikawa gushed, running out from a back room at full speed like a child on Christmas morning. Strong arms of a pro athlete crushed you in a group hug, and you gasped a little for air. "Guys, meet my girlfriend." He stepped back to proudly gesture to the blonde, "Maeko-chan!"
Maeko offered up another perfect smile of sparkling teeth. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead plastering on a fake smile, "It's great to finally meet you in person,"
"Yeah, don't know what you see in a Shitty guy like this though,"
"Hey, Iwa-chan!"
The apartment filled with laughter.
---
Dinner came and went. Oikawa monopolized the conversation like usual, as he told Iwaizumi and you only his most "crazy" stories that he'd been saving for tonight. Maeko hung at his side the entire meal, jumping into the conversation here and there.
You called the waiter for another drink.
That night, the three of you went clubbing. Maeko didn't attend- she had work the next morning. You were kind of- no, very, glad.
Oikawa was all too excited to show off and take the three of you to the "best club in the city". You swayed to the music, watching Oikawa make a fool of himself on the dance floor, and Iwaizumi get approached by a pretty, platinum blonde with a boob job.
You sat back at the bar and ordered another round of shots. It was going to be a long night.
"Hey, mind if I sit?"
You blinked and twisted to the right. There stood a pretty noir haired male with dark eyes. A chiseled jaw and pointed nose were welcomed by your eyes, and you gestured loosely. He took a seat.
Small talk floated between the pair of you. He's funny, and he's good looking, but he's not... Unwillingly, your eyes traveled back to the dance floor. But you shook your head and downed another shot.
Late that night, Iwaizumi- designated driver, hopped into the front seat of Oikawa's car and shoved the other brunet into the back. You took passengers'. As he started up the car and adjusted the mirrors, Iwaizumi caught your eye.
"That guy seemed into you. And you seemed to like it. So why'd you reject him?"
The answer to his question- the thing you'd refused to realize for years- was right there on the tip of your tongue. But instead of opening up Pandora's box, you turned to stare out the window with a deflated sigh.
"Dunno, I think I drank too much."
"Oh."
The rest of the car ride was in silence.
You woke up the next morning on the sofa in Oikawa's living room. Iwaizumi was asleep on the couch opposite you, and noise came from the kitchen. Maeko and Oikawa were whispering, although she was making a better effort to be quiet.
Then Maeko came flying out, dressed in a skin tight blue miniskirt and dark blouse. Her hair rained behind her in a high pony. She didn't even notice you as she headed for the door.
"Bye Tooru!"
He popped his head around the corner to blow her a kiss. And then, she was gone.
You sat up with a yawn, arms stretched high above your head.
"Good morning!" Oikawa called boisterously, waving a spatula around in the air. He headed back into the kitchen, and you trailed after. Eggs were being fried in a pan on the stove, and it smelled delicious.
With a light hum, you hopped to sit on the counter beside him. He was singing something- a song, in English under his breath as he cooked in his PJs. Perfect, You thought. Everything in this very moment felt perfect, as though this should be your routine every morning.
"Hey," you croaked.
When he turned, you pressed forward before you could think twice. Of course, his lips were smooth. They'd better be, with the million different chapsticks and balms that he owned. He wasn't kissing back, you knew that, but lingered just a little longer.
"Oikawa, I just forget some... thing..."
Oikawa leapt back like he'd been burned.
"M-Maeko, I-"
"-stop. Just stop. Don't say a fucking word," she hissed, and you finally got to see her face without a smile. A pit dropped in your stomach as you backed away. Maeko turned around, grabbed a vase from the sill and threw it onto the floor, bits of blue and green glass shattering across the hard wood. "I can't fucking believe you'd do this, Tooru!" Hot tears streamed down her face in black streaks- her carefully put together makeup was ruined.
She stormed out before he could get a single word in.
Oikawa turned to face you, and for a moment the entire house was deadly quiet. And then, he exploded.
"What is wrong with you?! You- you- shit," he raked fingers through tousled locks, "god, you ruined everything! I was going to- going to fucking propose tomorrow night! That's the whole reason I invited you and I-Iwa-chan down here, and then you-" he sucked in a sharp breath, "you're so selfish! How could you do this?"
You kept quiet. He's right.
"Tooru, I-"
"We've been friends since we were children. How could you betray me like this? I don't understand, I don't get it. No. No," he pointed a finger at you, "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what? Like I love you?"
"Stop! Just stop!"
"I can't!" You screamed, "don't you think I would if I could?! Who the hell would want to be in love with their best friend! You have no idea how-"
Beep beep beep beep beep beep*
The blaring of the fire alarm overhead interrupted your spat. Oikawa swore and moved towards the eggs, which had caught fire. He closed the lid of the pan over to extinguish all oxygen from it, before stepping back with a heavy sigh.
Throughout it all, Iwaizumi remained peacefully asleep on the couch.
---
You left that apartment like it was on fire. And well, it sort of had been. You raced to the airport in search of the next flight home.
"What do you mean the next flight isn't for another day? I need to leave now." you argued, gripping the edge of the counter like it was your lifeline. The poor airport receptionist lady offered a patient shake of her head and a practiced smile.
"I'm so sorry miss, but tomorrow is the closest flight available. However, we do have other flights leaving today headed to France, Australia and Miami that leave within the next hour."
You mulled this information over in your brain, knowing that right now, you'd take anywhere but here.
"Fine, book me one for Miami."
You were on the plane, flying through the clouds when your phone rang. Debating ignoring it, you stared out the window, lips tugged down in a pout. But, what if it wasn't Oikawa? Glaring at your bag, you finally leaned over to fish out your cell and hit accept.
"Oi, what the hell is going on- where are you?" The gruff, familiar voice that bled through the phone brought a little bit of comfort to your heart. You gazed out the window.
"On a plane."
"What?"
"You heard me," you spoke stiffly, "I'm headed to Miami."
"Miami- why the hell are you going to Miami?! You know what? Don't answer that. Instead, you're gonna tell me what happened this morning." Iwaizumi declared.
"Tell you...? Why would I, when I know Oikawa's already told you everything?"
"He's told me his side of the story. But I wanna hear yours too. Why'd you kiss him? Still drunk from last night?"
"Yeah," you began, because you wished so dearly that that was the truth. But when an annoying prat in alien pajamas surfaced in your mind, you sighed. "No," You glanced around the plane, paranoid for eavesdroppers- like anyone actually cared. "I'm in love with... Tooru."
There it was- the first time you'd admitted it to yourself.
It hurt, admitting the truth.
"That's a pretty strong word, you know. Are you sure?" Iwaizumi didn't contest it, didn't act disgusted like Oikawa had earlier. He simply wanted to hear your thoughts and feel things out. It was fair.
You gulped. "Yeah. Unfortunately. But Iwaizumi, I shouldn't have kissed him. I ruined his proposal with Maeko- she's probably gonna break up with him now because of me."
The line was quiet, contemplative. Then he spoke, "You shouldn't have. But it's over now. If time away is what you need, I won't come after you. But just be safe, alright? And I know he's mad right now, but Oikawa cares about you. Don't block him out."
Block him out? He'd already expressed how much you'd ruined everything. If anyone was getting blocked out, it'd be you. You wouldn't be surprised if this singular fight broke up your friendship forever.
Tears welled in your eyes, accompanied by a big lump in your throat. You sniffled. He's right. I ruined everything. Now we can't go back.
"Hey, you still there? (Name)?"
"Y-yeah..." you murmured into the phone. "Goodbye, Iwaizumi. Tell Oikawa I'm sorry."
"Don't worry, he already knows. Have a safe flight, and call me when you're back in Miyagi."
"Okay."
The line went dead.
---
One week later found you back home in Miyagi, with a fresh tan and a hurting bank balance.
You hadn't reached out to anyone, in fact, you'd completely unplugged yourself from all social media platforms. But all the beaches and fancy hotels and handsome foreigners in the world weren't enough to evade your problems.
Oikawa Tooru sat heavy in your mind.
You'd just stepped foot in your apartment when your phone buzzed. A text. From Tooru.
[Call me?]
That was it. Nothing that alluded to his mood or feelings, nothing at all.
You left your bags at the door and headed to your bedroom, forcing down the tears that begged to flow. Quickly cleaning off your desk to make it presentable, you sat in your swivel chair and hit call.
He picked up immediately.
"Hey," He sounded breathless, like he'd just finished a run.
"Hey," you echoed back.
You heard him take a deep breath on the other line, "I know things got... out of hand, in Argentina. And I'm sorry. I want you to know how much your friendship means to me, ever since we were little. And I also think you should know, that Maeko and I are doing okay again. I didn't propose, obviously, but we're back together. So don't feel too guilty about it, alright?"
You were quiet. So, he went on.
"And about the kiss, I get it. And I don't want one stupid decision to break up our friendship."
Stupid decision? Stupid decision? You wanted to shout and scream- tell him how many years it took for you to summon the will for that one stupid decision. He didn't understand. He didn't "get it". Of course he didn't. He never would.
"I still want to be friends. I wouldn't give up our friendship over this. So? What do you think?"
What did you think? As you clutched the phone to your ear, a tsunami of images flashed by. Oikawa and Maeko getting engaged. Getting married. Having a family. And you knew that your heart would shatter if you had to stand at his side and watch it all.
"Oikawa- I can't."
"Can't... can't what?"
"I can't go back to being friends. You know how you feel about Maeko? Well, that's how I feel about you. So I can't just squash those feelings and pretend like we're only best friends again." I've been doing that for too many years. "So, I'm sorry. But I can't be your friend."
The line was silent. There was a loud thump- did he throw his phone?- and then the line went dead.
For a long time- you didn't know how long- you sat in silence, simply staring at the wall, sitting in your chair. Motionless. Numb. Because your heart couldn't handle feeling right now. So you sat. The perfect embodiment of a corpse, if not for the constant beat-beat in your chest.
You're not sure when your eyes closed.
---
The next few weeks were spent falling further and further down a dark, spiraling void. The only way to stay remotely afloat was to drown yourself in partying and alcohol. It wasn't healthy, but at this point you didn't care.
It made the pain go away. Even if only for awhile.
You stumbled around the unfamiliar house, music blaring so loud you could feel the bass reverberating in your chest. Party goers whooped and hollered in the dim rooms, tossing around bottles of liquor.
Someone passed you a shot, you downed it. And then another. And another. And some more not long after that. The buzz settled itself into your bones, you felt kind of like you were floating. Or walking on clouds, maybe. The feeling of utter detachment from reality was welcome.
"Hey gorgeous," a clammy hand came to rest on your shoulder, steering you down a quiet hallway. "Up for some fun tonight, beautiful?" Warm breath that reeked of alcohol and weed fanned your cheek. Your nose scrunched, and you tried to move. To get away. But your body was numb; it refused to move or obey your commands.
Unwanted hands roamed where they pleased.
You tried to speak. Your lips parted, but nothing came out.
A flash, a fist- and then your assaulter was on the ground, clutching the side of his jaw. Your glassy eyes moved to your saviour, and saw dark, spiky hair and green-green eyes.
"She's not interested, asshole!" Iwaizumi growled, before grabbing your shoulder and pushing you out and down the hallway. He dragged you out to the front lawn of the house.
"I tracked your phone because you weren't answering anyone's messages or calls. Not me, not Oikawa, and not even your own mother. And here I find you so wasted out of your damn mind that you can't even defend yourself?!"
"I-Iwa..." you slurred, fresh tears springing in your eyes.
"I know things have been hard between you and Oikawa, but is this really where you want to end up? Get a hold of yourself. I don't wanna watch my best friend destroy her life!"
Your skin was flushed. Dark, big bags hung under your eyes. Your makeup was streaked down your face by tears. Your hair was a frazzled mess, and your clothes reeked of alcohol. You were a walking disaster, in every sense of the phrase. You hiccuped a cry into the night, and Iwaizumi shook his head, palm sliding down his face.
"Let's go. I'm taking you home."
You started to cry. Not because of his shouting. Not because he was angry. Not because he was mad. But because disappoint filled his eyes.
The next morning, Iwaizumi handed you a glass of water. He already had his shoes and coat on, and his lanyard with his keys dangled from the pocket of his sweats. You watched him in a hung over daze. Just before he opened the door, he turned, and muttered,
"Is this really how you want to live your life?"
Whether it referred to the drinking, the partying, or even Oikawa himself, you didn't know.
One week later, you picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.
He answered on the second ring.
"Yes?" His voice was rushed, like he thought the line would hang up any second.
"Tooru-" you paused to plaster on a fake smile you knew he wouldn't see. But, you needed it, in order to convince him properly. This was very important, and it had to be done right. "Tooru, I wanted to apologize. I was... upset, the other week. And I'm sorry for everything that I said, I didn't really mean it."
Liar. Your heart scolded.
But you kept on,
"And I'm so sorry for everything that happened in Argentina. It was just a stupid decision, but I got worked up over it, and I'm sorry."
"I... I'm so happy you said all of that, really." Oikawa spoke softly, "I was so scared that I'd lost you."
"Well, don't be. I would never sacrifice our friendship, Oikawa."
---
He was happy. Therefore, you should be happy. That's how friendship worked, right? Except that it didn't work, because to you, he'd be forever more than just a friend. But alas, Oikawa was happy. And you played the role of the dutiful best friend quite well, even now on his wedding day.
"God, I think I'm gonna puke." Maeko rubbed at her temples, beautiful hair curled into a fancy up-do atop her head. She sat in a dressing room, with you and her other two bridesmaids.
You played with a loose curl that framed her face, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
"Don't be, you'll do great. This is your day, Maeko."
She smiled. You did too, but then a shot of guilt was injected into your veins. You wanted to be happy for her- she was a wonderful, outstanding woman who deserved it- but part of you, a large part, never would be. Never could be. Not when it was Oikawa who she was marrying.
As she walked down the aisle, Oikawa wore the brightest, most genuine smile on his face.
He was happy. Your heart was breaking.
This, you thought, is what true love must be like. Caring more about his happiness than your own.
The Gist: you're Izaya's right hand man, and have been by his side since high school. You were the first follower he attained, and he's always kept you close. Closer than the others. And finally, you want him to admit why.
2.8k
Warnings: mention/hint at past abuse, angst, Izaya is a jerk, profanity, sadness, Izaya wants to love but can't..
____________________
"Ah, isn't is wonderful? Even at night, the city still buzzes with human life, I love it!"
"Don't be a creep. Let's go to bed, I'm tired."
"You're always taking naps though, like a cat." Izaya chuckled as you glared over your shoulder at him, "I'm amazed you could even fall asleep at night based solely off of how much you sleep during the day,"
You didn't dignify him with a response, just padded over to the window he stood before and tugged lightly on his sleeve, like a child. Izaya was silent, taking in the city with one final blink before dipping his chin.
"Alright, alright."
You curled up on the left side of his bed, while he lay flat on his back on the right. A knife was stowed away in his bedside drawer, but honestly you were surprised he didn't keep it under his damn pillow. Besides, even if some monster broke in, you weren't worried. I've known monsters that were far worse...
Snuggling deeper under the covers, you thought of your shithole apartment downtown. What a waste of money, since you spent most nights here. However much you knew this, you knew even more that you'd never sell your place and fully move in with Izaya. It's not that he wouldn't let you- you knew he would, you already spend most of your time here- it's more so that, for whatever reason, that tiny shit hole of an apartment is yours. And that's important to you.
And another part of you knows that moving in would be to cross another line in your twisted bond- a line you weren't sure you were ready to cross.
You closed your eyes, already anticipating the nightmares that would follow.
In the middle of the night, you jerked awake. Of course, light a sleeper as he was, Izaya stirred from your abrupt movement. You huffed, gasping for air as you sat upright in bed, covers pooling at your waist. Briefly, you wondered why Izaya put up with this every night.
But like most nights, he curled his finger at you, the tiniest of smiles playing on his lips. You flopped down to face him, on your side. He placed a palm under your cheek, cradling your head. You leaned into his cool touch.
"Neko-chan~" he purred. Ironically.
Your eyes fluttered closed once again.
This time, sleep came much easier.
---
"Give this file to Courier-san," Izaya instructed, handing you a crisp, white envelope. He didn't have to tell you what was inside, and you wouldn't ask. You were his loyal pawn, after all. Ever since high school. For now, and probably forever.
From the moment you met the enigma that was Izaya Orihara, you knew your life had taken an irreversible twist.
"Mm," you hummed. Taking the envelope, you headed to the door and slipped on your shoes, "anything else you need while I'm out?"
Seated at his computer, Izaya typed away without lifting his head. "yeah. Let's do lunch."
You didn't even need to ask which place.
The dull trip to Ikebukuro was passed listening to music through your headphones, and watching the city whiz by through the bus windows. You entered Shinra's apartment complex, and knocked at their unit thrice.
Celty excitedly opened the door, but her shoulders sagged at the sight of you. She whipped out her PDA, [ oh... it's just you. Well? What does Izaya want? ]
Wow, what a lovely reception...
"I'm doing well Celty, and how about yourself?" You replied, with a side order of haughtiness.
The headless woman typed aggressively, [ oh, shut up. You're just his gopher. So? What is it now? ]
Just a gopher. Huh. Yeah, that about summed it up in a single word. You knew that's how everyone saw you. Hell, maybe that's even how Izaya himself saw you. A gopher. A pawn. A follower.
But, thankfully, you didn't give a damn what they thought. Except for one.
---
It was on a quiet summer evening that your life changed dramatically.
You headed down from the top floor- your floor- of your crappy, rundown apartment complex, folding a grocery list into your sweater pocket as you went. On the landing of the second floor, you spotted him.
Shizuo Heiwajima. But, what the hell was he doing here? Had he really used his brains for once, and determined your location to attack you and get back at Izaya for all of his bullshit? Perhaps. Groceries forgotten, you took a fighting stance.
Shizuo dropped the cardboard box he'd been carrying. You. He hated you. Izaya's right hand man- you and the flea were thick as thieves. Because of that, you were number two on his shit list. Only topped by Izaya himself.
Surely, Izaya had sent you after him, to spy on him. Gather intel. Well, he wouldn't let either of you get away with it. Not to-fucking-day! Shizuo charged forward with a roar.
"DAMN YOU! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
You ducked to avoid a punch, and swung your own fist, even though the action was basically useless. Shizuo was built like fucking stone, after all.
"DIE!" The beast growled.
You flipped back and out of his range, raising your voice over all of his rumbling.
"What are doing here, Heiwajima." You spat, the name tasting filthy on your tongue. Shizuo halted, confusion clear as day on his face. The fortissimo's chest rose and fell heavily through panting breaths.
"Me? What are you doing here? This is my fucking place, you got that?! Don't act like you and the flea don't already know it!"
As a matter of fact, we didn't know. Not until now. You stumbled back, and laughed at the universe.
"Oi, you wanna die!" Shizuo shouted.
You sighed, "Heiwajima, I'm not here to scope you out, or to fight. I for one, don't have a death wish today. I live upstairs."
What? Was he hearing things correctly, or had he gone mad? You, you of all people lived in his new apartment complex?! God, the universe must really fucking hate him, always screwing him over in the worst ways possible.
He cracked his knuckles, preparing for a fight. Because you and the flea lived to make his life miserable.
But then you did something he least expected.
You raised your hands in surrender.
"Hey, can we leave peacefully? Look, I won't tell Izaya you've moved. Now could you let me go by? I've really gotta go grocery shopping." You spoke casually, not the least bit scared of him. Shizuo blinked.
"You... what? Why?"
Your gaze slid sideways, out the setting sun.
"Let's call a truce, while on this property. I really like this place, you see. I don't want you and Izaya's fighting to ruin it."
It was a selfish request. But that day, Shizuo Heiwajima let you walk.
---
Shizuo stared into his cup of tea, seated across from Shinra in the man's living room. He'd been invited over by Celty for dinner- the headless woman had been practicing her cooking, and was excited to show it off.
As the Dullahan danced about in the kitchen, Shizuo and Shinra sipped away at their drinks.
Shizuo chewed at his lip.
"Say, Shinra?"
"Yeah?"
He spoke your name quietly, like a whisper, "She's been following the flea around since high school, right? What's all that about?"
Ever since the apartment complex incident, he's felt unsettled. He always had a clear picture tinted with hatred and malice of you in his mind, right alongside the flea. But now, the lens was blurry. It bugged him. He didn't like it, not at all.
"Ah, yes. Where to begin...?" Shinra chuckled like the whole situation was amusing to him. It probably was. "Well, I don't know everything, but I do know that Izaya saved her in high school."
"Saved her from what?"
Shinra's smile dropped. "Her own family. Ever since, she's been stuck to his side like glue. You could say she was his first follower. Maybe that's why he's kept her around all this time, instead of discarding her like all the others."
The way Shinra spoke so casually of the girls that Izaya manipulated made Shizuo's stomach churn.
"That's sick." He spoke at last. He glared into his tea, "She's not a trophy, but a human fucking being."
Shinra didn't reply.
---
That evening, you sat beside Izaya on the couch as he read aloud. The baby blue cover read: Advanced Psychology: Unraveling the Human Mind. Not something you were particularly interested in, but Izaya was. So, you listened to him.
Half of the terminology and concepts went over your head, and after two chapters you'd tuned out the meaning behind his words, focusing solely on his voice, and the way it sounded as each syllable rolled cleanly off of his tongue.
The two of you sat side by side, with a tiny gap in between. But, as he rambled on, your eyelids began to droop. You fluttered them back open. Deciding the couch simply wasn't comfy enough, you shuffled closer to Izaya. He paused his reading as you curled up against his side, head knocking lightly by his shoulder. But he quickly recovered.
You didn't see the tiny lift of his lips.
---
A couple weeks passed by in normal fashion. Running errands for Izaya. Spending the nights at his place. Watching him antagonize Shizuo Heiwajima.
Cleaning your apartment. Going grocery shopping. Doing the dishes. Nightmares.
All mundane, to you.
It was early in the morning when you decided to go for a run. You ran to take your mind off things- essentially, you tried to outrun your problems through a frosted, dew soaked city and the under the light of dawn. It had yet to work.
Sweat clinging your hair to your nape, you sipped from your water bottle and began the trek up the stairs to the fourth floor. The apartment complex really should invest in an elevator system. Though you figured you'd be buried in the ground before that ever happened.
It was just before eight by this time. As you reached the second floor, a tall silhoutte of a man against the rising sun caught your eye.
Of course. Just my luck.
As if he could smell you, Shizuo whipped around, alert. His room key jangled at his side as he scowled. When you drew closer, you swore you heard him utter, stinks like flea... under his breath.
Shizuo was, like any other day, dressed in his bartender uniform and ridiculous sunglasses.
Damn. Must have caught him on his way to work. Shit luck.
But instead of deepening, Shizuo's scowl softened. The mellow, near comprehensive look on his face was quite unsettling and alien to you. You, much like Izaya, only ever saw one side of Shizuo Heiwajima.
And this wasn't it.
"Hey," he began, voice still raw from having just woke. "I uh... I don't know your life story or anything, but..." Shizuo fumbled through his words, gaze sliding sideways, "but even if that blood sucker "saved" you, or whatever... just know that- that you don't owe a bastard like that anything. And you, well uh, you shouldn't stay with him if it isn't what you want."
Red. You saw red. A momentary flicker of rage clouded your mind. But then your eyes welled with tears to wash it all away.
What I want...
No one had ever asked you what you wanted. Not once. No one's ever asked me what I've wanted, before.
Shizuo Heiwajima turned his back and walked away without another word.
You stood there as the sun rose, deadly still and silent.
And then, with a wail, you cried.
---
You spent all morning and afternoon moping about your apartment.
The one sided conversation with Shizuo floated around in your head, taking precedence over everything else. One question stood out above all else.
What do I want?
What do I want?
What do I want?
Shizuo's words were sharper than any of his blows.
You knew your role. Gopher. Follower. Pawn.
So the question remained, why did you stay?
Because Izaya saved me, your brain piped up. And yet, you knew that wasn't the whole truth. Dig deeper, dig deeper. But that was hard and scary.
After all of these years... why am I still playing the part of the dutiful pawn?
And then the most obvious conclusion of all came to light.
The tears returned.
---
"Do you know?" You asked him. Quiet. Timid. Shy.
You sat with him, on the roof of some tall building in Ikebukuro. It was night. Izaya smiled down at the glowing city below, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. "About your pitiful feelings for me? I've known for years. Though, you figured yourself out far quicker than I thought you would."
In an instant the nerves were gone, burned to ash by anger. Of course.
"Everything is just a game to you, isn't it?!"
"Ah, so the cat has claws after all..."
You don't remember the last time you raised your voice at him, if ever.
Izaya seemed taken aback as well, but quickly schooled his expression into stoniness.
"Izaya," voice hoarse, "don't play around with me. Is it too much to ask for you to be transparent for once in your goddamn life!"
"You don't love me," he started. Slowly. Calmly. As though he were trying to convince someone. You. Himself. "You don't love me, you simply see me as your white knight ever since I saved you. I've allowed you to show your affections towards me simply so I could witness how you'd react when you finally discovered your misplaced "feelings" yourself. See, while I may not be transparent, you are. I've seen right through you for years. It's funny, really, how obvious you are to everyone but yourself."
"Stop-"
"-perhaps you think you're somewhat special to me, because I've kept you around all of this time. But need I remind you of my principles? I love all humans equally, even the ones who are uglier on the inside, like yourself."
"Shut up!" You spat. The tears had returned, and Izaya just laughed. "That's it. I'm done, Izaya. If you can't- if you won't tell me the truth- I can't do this anymore."
You left the roof, slamming the door in your wake.
---
It was almost two years before you saw him again.
Temporarily, you moved to live with your cousin in the countryside. You needed an escape, needed to be anywhere but Ikebukuro. Hell, you even sold your shitty apartment.
You spent the days helping out around the farmhouse and taking care of the animals in the barn. It was quite relaxing, to be away from the ever bustling city.
You were upstairs flipping through a book when the doorbell rang. Strange, since your cousin didn't receive too many visitors.
You really should have checked the window before answering.
He looked exactly the same, unlike you in your cowboy boots and button up blouse.
He looked you up and down before speaking, "Ah, the country has done you some good after all. You look well."
You schooled your expression from shock into a blank, unimpressed glare. "Why did you find me, after all of this time, Izaya?"
He took awhile to answer. You thought he might take all day.
But finally, he shifted his weight on the porch and smiled, "I came to apologize, of course."
"Really? Because in all the years I've known you, you've never apologized sincerely to anyone." You drawled.
His eyes shone with annoyance, "do you want an apology or not?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
You crossed your arms. "Depends if you're gonna admit it."
Izaya stalled before replying, "admit what?"
You knew he knew. You even knew that he knew that you knew. And yet here he was, still bullshitting his way through life. Honestly. "Come on, Izaya. If you'll admit why you've really kept me around all of these years, why it is that I'm a special human to you, then I'll go back with you."
"You're- you're not special." he rebutted fiercely. Adamantly. Lying through his teeth, as per usual.
Izaya should have known this was a losing battle from the start. He should have known you'd ask this, ask for the truth. Who wouldn't? Yet he foolishly came all the way out here anyways, hoping against hope that you wouldn't. You did.
He knew the three little words you wanted to hear. But, he couldn't say them. Rather, his heart was too fragile, too brittle- it couldn't handle it. Part of him wanted to say it. To have you, to have a life with you. Part of him knew his poor heart could never do it. He grit his teeth and smiled.
"You're just another human, if not one I might prefer the company of over others."
He watched and analyzed you as your features continued to draw into a frown. "That's not enough. Tell me why, Izaya. Please."
Short Drabble: You try to moralize Eren, the man you love, as human, despite everything he’s done.
Warnings: Angst!, profanity...
________
The cell was a bit cramped with the members of the 104th all cooped up inside. You sat curled against the wall, eyes dully watching a game of cards between Connie, Jean and Armin unfold at a rickety wooden table. Mikasa was just as silent, taking up residence on a worn rocking chair in the opposite corner.
As it was right now, the Yeagerists had taken control over the military, through the help of the volunteers and Zeke's wine trap.
You curled in as tightly into a ball as your body would permit, feeling the cold stone of the wall through your uniform. You sniffled. Everything was so very, very wrong. Where did it all go wrong?
"Oi," Jean called, "are you crying again?" Blatant annoyance bled through his words. You buried your chin. Jean mumbled underneath his breath before scraping back his chair to complain some more. But he was interrupted by the jangle of keys down the corridor.
"104th..." Floch appeared like a nightmare before the metal bars. His eyes swiveled with mirth about the cell, before settling like a predator on you. He gave a chilled smile. "You, come with me. Everyone else stay put." For good measure, he jostled his gun strap.
You didn't move. Floch clicked his tongue, "Come on, come on. Eren wants to see you. Don't you want to see him?"
You didn't like the suggestive lilt in his voice, nor the distrustful glint in his eyes. But you stood anyways, slowly. You needed to speak to Eren- you needed to see Eren, anyways. You hadn't seen him since the attack on Liberio. And now, with the threat of the rumbling you had to hear his side of things to prove to yourself that the man you loved wasn't a monster.
You felt the eyes of Jean and the others bore into you as you shuffled towards Floch. Smile widening, the Yeagerist fitted a key into the lock and clicked it off. He gestured you forwards, and proceeded to snag your arm and tug you along. After locking the cell once more, the pair of you headed upstairs.
Floch paused before a grand wooden door.
"He's just inside,"
You took the cue and pushed against the door. A million fears and thoughts raced behind your eyes; your mind was a whirlwind.
"Eren, I-"
But a tight, bone crushing embrace interrupted it all. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling flush against his chest. Warm. He was warm. You breathed a content little sigh, basking in the familiarity presented to you. You turned your face sideways to press your cheek to his collarbone.
"It's been so hard..." Eren began, voice raw. You felt a frog in your throat, but he went on, "it's been so fucking hard. I don't want to, I don't- but I have no choice. You get that, don't you?"
"Eren, I-"
"-I have to become the monster. If I don't, Paradis doesn't stand a chance- not against the rest of the world. The world won't let us be free, you know? The world wants to destroy us. So I've got no choice but to destroy it first."
You parted your lips,
"Eren, I-"
"You know," he interrupted with a pause, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I was so disappointed to find that there was life beyond the walls. It made me so- so-" he cut himself off. He sighed.
You tried again.
"Eren, I-"
"I'm going to do it. I've already done it before," he went on. Your brow furrowed. Before? What was he talking about? But Eren rambled on, conviction returning, "I will initiate the rumbling. I'll destroy the entire world, to protect Paradis. To protect my friends. To protect you." He drew a long breath, "I'm selfish, but I refuse to let anyone steal my freedom."
"Eren, I-"
"I just-"
"Eren!" You finally snapped. The brunet stalled. Listening to the beat of his heart, you replied, "what do you want me to say? That I condone this, that I understand? I'm sorry, but I can't. Genocide isn't- can't, be the only way out of this problem."
He tightened his hold one last time before pulling away. "I see... so even you're against me. But that's okay, I understand. I'm the only one capable of doing this." he turned his head, looking away and out the window at the vast world. "Please don't try and stop me,"
"Eren, you know I can't do that."
"I know," he sighed, "I know. It seems the whole world is against me." He began to walk forward, toward the door.
"But, I'll keep moving forward."
The door closed with a slam. You fell to your knees.
Short drabble: Levi does his best to comfort you after you wake from a nightmare.
_________________
You gasped.
Sweat beaded on your forehead, shimmering when the bedside table light flickered on. You shifted in your nightgown, hunching over to try and catch your breath. Your heart still raced, like you were still there.
A warm arm found your waist and drew you near.
"What's wrong?" came a rumbling, rich voice.
You frowned, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's alright. I wasn't sleeping anyways." He replied. Now that, you could believe. He moved to sit up and twisted to face you. Dark, shiny black hair fell in a curtain around his head. He ran his fingers through it, before settling his steel eyes on you. Levi's lip curled down.
He tried. He really did, but he worried that it wasn't enough. He was never good at comforting people- he wasn't good at dealing with his own emotions, let alone somebody else's- and he fretted that he wasn't doing enough for you when you got these nightmares.
Recurring nightmares, ever since that day. He hadn't known you then. He wasn't there. He couldn't fully understand the pain you felt, or what you had- were, going through. It would be silly to think otherwise.
But as he watched fresh tears spring into your eyes, Levi knew he had to try. So he reached forward, using both arms to carefully shift you against his chest. Your crying continued, and he held you tighter.
Then, he began to hum a tune he didn't know the origins of; if it belonged to a song or had accompanying lyrics. Levi only remembered his mother humming it to him as a young child. He'd mostly forgotten it, until now. The tune came easily to him when it was for you.
"It'll be okay," he said at last.
You burrowed into his shoulder, lips ghosting his skin as you sniffed back, "yeah. Yeah, it will be."
Everything would end up okay in the end, as long as you had him by your side.
sic itur ad astra: thus, you shall go to the stars
☆ Levi Ackerman x reader Drabble
warnings: angst, sadness...
_________________________
"It's beautiful today, isn't it?" you asked, tilting your head back to blink up at the cloudless sky. Blue stretched above, enveloping your little world within the walls. Levi's reply was more of a grunt than anything else,
"Hm."
You grabbed his wrist and tugged him along, escaping further into the back courtyard. Some members of the Corps dotted the fields. Few trained, but most were following in your footsteps and taking advantage of the the gorgeous, sunny day they'd been gifted.
Levi was dutifully quiet at your side, as always. Not a man of many words, he struggled to start the conversation. But for once, words came spilling from his lips as the sun beat down on your face, "you're awfully pale, today. Are you sick?"
---
Levi sat rigid at his desk one Tuesday morning. Tuesdays were his off day from training with his squad. While they loved Tuesdays, he detested them. Because when he wasn't busy training, that damn Erwin drowned him in paperwork.
He glared at the opposing stack of white parchment, as though it was capable of receiving and understanding his frustration. Then with a huff, Levi leaned back and dropped his ink pen. He'd already been at it all morning, and it was almost noon now. Yet he swore that pile grew each time he looked away. Perhaps you were responsible. He looked to you. You grinned.
"Come on, just get on with it. Once you're done, you can clean. I know you mentioned this room needs it, though I can't say I agree." you swiped a finger across his window ledge, and it came back entirely clean.
He snorted and grabbed the duster stowed beside his desk. "Here, why don't you get started while I finish up,"
The feather duster sailed in a smooth arc across the room, but you failed to catch it. It clattered to the floor.
"Oopsie," you smiled sheepishly. Levi shook his head.
---
Another day meant another serving of slop for dinner. Levi scowled at the poor excuse for potato stew, but raised a steaming spoon to his lips regardless. It was quite late, leaving him alone in the dining hall. Well, not quite alone.
"That looks good," you murmured. He turned to face you, setting his spoon on his napkin. Levi raised a judgmental brow.
"Are you kidding? It's the same sloppy shit it's always been. Stupid budget cuts..."
You continued to eye the grey sludge longingly. Resting your cheek on your palm, you let out a soft sigh. "Yeah, but I still miss it, you know? I miss being able to eat, even if it's that."
Levi frowned. Here you were again, acting so odd. You must be getting sick. You had to be, surely. He should- he would bring you to the infirmary for a check up tomorrow, regardless of your complaints or whines. "Then just eat, here." he dipped the silver spoon back into the potato stew to lift it carefully in your direction. But you ducked back,
"I already told you, I can't eat."
"You're just being ridiculous."
"I am not! If anyone's being ridiculous, Levi, it's you."
He went silent after that, and you wisely chose to do the same.
---
It was pouring rain- a torrential kind of downpour, when Levi spotted you out in the courtyard. He walked briskly to the arching doors, staying underneath the overhang as he shouted,
"Oi! What the hell are you doing!"
You didn't answer- not verbally, at least. Just lowered and turned your head to meet his eyes. You looked hollow. Dead. Something deep in his gut that he'd been trying to ignore the past couple of weeks resurfaced, churning madly.
Underneath the moonlight that fought to shine through heavy, rain-full clouds, you glowed.
Cursing under his breath, the captain ran out into the rain, surrendering himself to the elements in order to reach you. By the time he did, he was soaked. The rain kept falling.
When you turned to face him, it was to envelope him in a tight embrace. So very tight, as though you were scared to let him go. Silent sobs racked your body as you clung to him like he was your lifeline. After a few tense seconds, Levi reciprocated. His arms slowly came to rest around your waist.
It was only after you'd rested your chin on his shoulder, that you spoke.
"You know I'm not real, don't you?"
Silence.
Rain pelleted onto the dirt and grass around the two of you. Levi hugged you just a smidge tighter.
"I know..." he whispered, "but I don't want to let you go." And finally, the truth he'd been fighting to realize the past couple of weeks revealed itself. The memories he'd stowed away to protect himself came surging to the surface.
Expedition.
Titans.
You.
Dead.
He choked a sob. The rain swallowed it up into the night.
"I don't wanna let you go, either," you murmured at last. "I'm scared, I don't know what's to come of me once I leave. Promise you won't forget me?"
Levi leaned back to meet your eyes. "I promise." He closed his own to place a kiss on cold lips.
Levi Ackerman Headcannon: Levi is a gentleman to Tipsy! Reader.
___________________________________________
The expedition had gone well. Okay, perhaps that was an overstatement. It had gone well in definition of the Survey Corps. Which really, wasn't well at all.
As had every one before it, the last expedition outside the walls brought death, casualties, and offered minuscule information up about the outside world as a reward. What a joke. Levi headed downstairs to the mess hall to brew himself a cup of tea, something to aid his dark thoughts.
He regretted this action almost immediately.
Upon opening the wide, swinging doors to the Hall, his ears were met with a boisterous wall of sound. Laughter, banter, and cheers. The air smelled like filthy liquor and sweat. Disgusting. Last he checked, this was the Survey Corps military base, not some brothel in the underground city.
Cadets were grouped around the hall swinging jars of whiskey. Some sang, others retold their stories from previous expeditions and adventures. Faintly, a drunken chorus echoed around the room,
"We drink and we sing when our fighting is done..."
He stepped back and turned for the door. Levi would have left, had he not seen your mug among the other flushed faces in the room.
You. How did he describe you? Annoying, his brain supplied. But slightly less annoying than all those other idiots. By a hair. He paused in the doorway to scrutinize. You downed one shot, then another. Some cadets cheered, one slapped you roughly on the back with a toothy grin. Levi frowned, brow furrowed.
Then he strode in your direction, pointedly ignoring the other cadets and their drunken ramblings. "Oi," he started, standing over your left shoulder. "Oi." he repeated, a little sharper.
Finally you looked up, cheeks flush from drink and lips curved upwards in a careless, free smile. It looked surprisingly good, he mused- he wondered what you'd look like if you wore it more often.
"Yes, Captain?" you sang.
Levi crossed his arms.
"It's late. Go to bed."
"Ha?" you lifted a brow, pausing to take another swig, "but the night's just started! C'mon Captain, loosen up a little. Here, have my shot!"
Grey irises narrowed in on the amber liquid thrust up at him. He tsked. "No fucking way. Put the drink down and let's go."
"But Captain~" you whined. The sound sent shivers down his spine, and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't pleasant. "Don't be such a downer, we're all having so much fun!"
"That's it," he grabbed the back of your shirt like a mother would grab it's kitten, and hauled you to your feet. The world swam for a few seconds as you blinked and wobbled on legs that were as solid as jello.
A strong and sturdy hand came to your rescue, giving support and gently pushing you along.
Once the pair of you reached the hallway, you'd begun to hum.
"Stop that." Levi ordered.
You did. But only to move on to other means of annoying him.
"Say, Captain?" you asked, eyes big and full of drunken mischief and trouble. Levi narrowed his own eyes before responding,
"What?"
"Tell me, are we going back to your room~?"
The insinuation made crimson bleed across his cheeks. Levi looked away and gave a bit of a rougher push. You stumbled without falling, laughter echoing throughout the empty corridor. He grumbled something incoherent underneath his breath, before coming to a sudden halt.
You froze, blinking up at him.
"Well? What the fuck are you waiting for, this is your room." He asked flatly.
Sparing him another smile that was two parts trouble and one part lust, you slid past him into your room. The dark room was empty, since all of your bunk mates were still down in the West wing enjoying themselves. As you were, before shorty came along and policed you back to your room.
Taking a moment to twirl around in the empty middle space, you sighed and jumped on the edge of your bed to kick off your boots. Damn things were dirty as hell. You cast another glance to Levi, who stood like a guard in the doorway.
His slate eyes bore into yours, and with a meeker smile, you crawled underneath the warm covers and into bed. Once you'd settled, you assumed he'd already left. But the silence was broken by an approaching pair of footsteps.
Levi hovered over you, and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, knowing you'd forget by morning.
No matter how many times he told himself this, the peace they finally had still felt fake. Wrong. Like if he didn't keep his guard up, someone would rip the rug right out from underneath them all and they'd be back to fighting for their lives.
Paradis island was no more. Those who had lived on the segregated island had migrated to the new world, ready to rebuild after the destruction that was Eren Yeager.
Eren.
His chest compressed. Jean clutched at his shirt, right over his heart. His jaw clenched. Eren. The boy who was supposed to be their savior. The boy who eradicated 80% of life beyond the walls. Eren had been a symbol of hope for the people of Paradis, but now he represented a devil. He shouldered the sins of the Eldian people. In doing so, they could move forward. Find peace among what was left of the outside world.
Thanks to Eren, there wasn't a nation well enough to oppose them. Not now, anyways.
But still, did it have to end this way? Did all of those innocent people have to-
"Jean."
A voice like honey broke his chain of thought, pulled him safely back to the present. Jean leaned into the touch of a warm hand against his cheek.
"You have to leave soon, don't you?"
You. You were his savior, more than Eren ever had been. You weren't Eldian, but you hailed from a different nation. One that had been narrowly saved by the alliance, and the end of the rumbling. You smiled, a soft smile that thawed the ice around his heart. Sliding closer to the chair he sat on, you placed yourself to straddle him, bumping foreheads. "You've got important political things to get to, hm? My silver-tongued, handsome fiance..."
Wisps of hair tickled the skin of his face. Jean breathed a chuckle. But it was hollow.
The members of the alliance had quickly landed powerful positions in the New World after the rumbling. As the ones to bring it to an end, the people had faith in them. Reiner was a general. Armin was one of the highest advisors in the government. Jean was commander over the military forces.
He wondered why, in such peaceful times, a military was necessary.
"Jean, you're crying." you pulled away, swiping a finger across his jaw. A wet droplet smeared over the pad.
He blinked for a moment, dazed. You went on, "you're thinking about it again, aren't you? Thinking about before."
"No," he immediately denied, but once his eyes met yours, they welled once again. Fuck. "Fine- Maybe, a little. I just can't- I spent my entire life fighting... I don't, I just can't believe in the peace here. It feels like a rouse, like I'll wake up tomorrow to titans outside our window or Marleyean soldiers knocking on the door,"
"I know," you replied quietly. But you didn't know. You wished you could do a better job in helping to heal his mental scars, but you'd lived a life full of peace. You couldn't fully understand everything that he'd been through. You hadn't been back on Paradis Island with him; shared his terrors. The only thing you could do was be there for him now.
You prayed it was enough.
Jean's voice cracked. "I just- fuck, I've been fighting all my life, and without anything or anyone to fight I feel... like I don't have a purpose, or a meaning. Violence and fear was all the people of Paradis knew. It's all I've ever known. I don't- I don't think I can be normal." He dipped his chin, lashes fluttering as his eyes went to half-mast. "But I wanna be, I want to be normal for you. I've always dreamed of the peaceful life, of settling down. But after everything I've been through, I don't know if I'm capable."
You chewed your lip, and came to rest your chin on his shoulder. You stared forward, at the dawn framed by your white wood window. The sun rose, pinks and purples and oranges bleeding across the sky.
"I don't care if you're normal or not. You know I love you anyways, right? I fell in love with you, knowing full well the baggage you carried. But I don't care, Jean. However long it takes, I'm willing to wait for you. Because I love you."
He always envied how easily those three words came to you. For him, he choked on the damn sentence every time. But you were so good at expressing yourself, wearing your heart on your sleeve for everyone to see. He loved that about you.
He loved you.
"Hey, aren't you excited to see your friends again? You haven't in a while, and I heard the Great and Mighty Levi is gracing the court with his presence today. Last time he was let into a political event, he sent ten guys to the hospital." You laughed, and smiled when Jean joined in.
"Yeah, that's him alright. The captain doesn't hold back, you know? It'll be good to see him again, now that he's out of his wheelchair. I heard he made a lot of progress in his rehabilitation. Ackerman genes, I'm telling you. How come that wasn't erased with the rest of the Eldian powers? So unfair,"
"Hey, do you think he'd agree to come into the lab?" you asked cautiously.
Jean hummed thoughtfully. You were a scientist, ever the curious mind. You would rant for hours about the advanced technology those of Paradis had never known, and sometimes Jean got a headache. And yet he loved you anyways. He smiled to himself. Weird.
"Maybe. Why?"
"Why? Because the Ackerman genes are fascinating! We believe they were created using titan science, but like you said, their powers weren't erased after the rumbling like the rest of Eldians. It's amazing, really..."
Jean laughed. "Still think you'd be better off asking Mikasa. She won't bite your head off, anyhow."
You nuzzled into his neck, humming.
He wasn't perfect. Neither were you.
Still, you had a feeling the two of you would make it.
