here’s my secret santa for kabedont ( aka lilly )!
title: Sturdy
pairing: oikawa x himself. jk it’s iwaoi.
word count: 1795 ( its so short omf i’m sry )
note: sci-fi/dystopian au i lofe– so here’s an angstier-than-intended weird sci-fi/alien-filled enders game au ( idk if you’ve seen it before or read it but like… its rad ). and??? you said you like fluff omg i’m so sorry it’s not rlly fluffy so much as brotp-ish? i’m not sure. i’m super sorry. also im sry i couldn’t put shun in it bc i know nothing about her and i’d feel weird trying to write your oc for you hh hope that’s ok?
They’ve changed the rules of the game, and as Oikawa looks over the new ones on his tablet, he feels a tight knot grow in his stomach. It’s the first time something like this has ever happened, though he’s only been in school for two years previous to being given command of the Lepus Army. And, he draws his brows close in frustration, it’s the first time that the Corporal has made such a drastic change without informing any of the soldiers – only the army commanders. The whole ordeal seems unusual, and for a moment Oikawa wonders whether it’s meant to be a prank, maybe by one of their rivals – Crow Army, Swan Army, Cat Army? But it’s been encoded with the battle school’s official seal, so he assumes that it must be real ( the higher-ups like to keep their young captains on their feet, apparently ).
Secluded from his army in the captain’s quarters, he’s completely alone. Sometimes that’s bad, he thinks, because he somewhat likes all the attention his soldiers give him when they’re together; but sometimes it’s good, because then they can’t see how close he is to breaking.
Iwa-chan had warned him multiple times not to suppress his worries, because it would only eat him from the inside out, and when he finally broke, he’d lose all he’d built up. Once the walls around his castle crumbled, the “Grand King” would be left vulnerable – he’d fall, hard. Allowing one’s self to break like that was the kind of thing that got people kicked out of battle school, and sent back to Earth. It meant that in a real situation, with the bugs, if Oikawa faltered and misstepped only once, he might risk hundreds of lives. He could potentially wipe out his entire fleet if he messed up.
And while he’d brushed it off at the time, with a wave of his hand and a smile, telling his right-hand, “Ne, Iwa-chan, you’re such a worry-wart. If you keep frowning like that, you’ll get early wrinkles! You don’t have to obsess over me like that – I don’t think girls are into that sort of thing…” Oikawa understood his words. He knew he was dangerously close to being removed from the program, for a multitude of reasons, though he was aware of them before Iwa-chan could ever warn him.
“You’re too competitive,” Oikawa mumbled up to the ceiling of his compact quarters, anticipating Iwaizumi’s next scold. As soon as they met tomorrow for breakfast in the mess hall, Oikawa would have to describe to him the game changes; and then, in two hours, they would have to play. It was perhaps the most inconvenient time to alter the tournament, especially since there would be one game before his, meaning he had no time to try practicing with his army in the arena, and since tomorrow their opponents would be the Swan Army. And whenever Oikawa was matched against that bastard Ushiwaka-chan, his competitive nature was inflamed drastically, to the point where it was impossible not to notice how infatuated with winning against Swan Army he was. Iwaizumi would be well-aware of his precarious mental state tomorrow morning; it was undoubted that he would pull Oikawa to the side and tell him to watch himself in the match.
But now, with new rules that suddenly meant both armies were relatively unprepared, Oikawa’s competitive nature might excel him – becoming very dangerous. He might be removed from leadership if he let it overcome him, because he might make foolish mistakes in cockily assuming that his pride and desire to win would pull him through.
He let himself drop the tablet onto his lap, and leaned back against the wall, the cot underneath him giving an ugly squeak in protest. A soft, broken chuckle. Only the best treatment for the best battle school commanders.
That night he fell asleep late, alone in his quarters, designing and planning formations he could use for the game tomorrow.
–
"Oi, Trashykawa,“ obviously Iwa-chan had noticed his lack of appetite this morning, the chopsticks in his fingers languidly playing with the breakfast food on his tray, “you look like shit.”
“That’s mean, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa responded, voice only slightly less convincing than usual. “I’m always beautiful.”
Silence. Oikawa’s eyes flicked up from his food to look Iwaizumi directly in the eyes. He sat parallel to Oikawa, next to no one since the team knew not to sit near their commander or Iwaizumi during breakfast before a morning game. In the many years that Oikawa had known Iwa-chan, even before they were both coincidentally accepted to be promoted to the battle school on the same day, he didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so mature before. It wasn’t like Iwa-chan had been hardened by war or anything – his eyes didn’t look like they’d ever seen anything traumatizing before, like everyone always said of veterans’ eyes.
But he’d grown from the boy Oikawa had befriended as a child. He was a lot larger; he didn’t surpass Oikawa in height, but his shoulders were broader and his frame sturdier. When he leaned over the cafeteria table, he looked like an adult, worn down and hunched over, feeling the effects of being involved in a strict military lifestyle. His features had hardened, his jaw sharpened, and his face grown more handsome. It was surprising that he hadn’t yet started to grow facial hair, and finish off the adult look with four-o'clock shadow.
And his eyes were keener, more attentive. It must’ve been because they’d spent so much time together already that Iwa-chan was able to read him with ease, but when Oikawa had looked up from his food to catch his gaze, it pierced into him and made him scowl in distaste. He didn’t like being looked at that way.
“Iwa-chan is scary,” he mused, and in a way he wasn’t being so joking as he was serious. “I’m actually glad you aren’t my mom, now. You’d probably tape me to my bed to get me to sleep, instead of singing me a nice lullaby like a good mom would.”
Iwaizumi ignored his comment, and looked away, grunting as he did a quiet, “Shut up.”
Oikawa let his shoulders fall with comfort, feeling a bit more relaxed now that Iwa-chan wasn’t staring at him with those scary eyes. They seemed to know more about him than he wanted them to. If Iwa-chan knew how he lived apart from the army, he thought, and subconsciously let a shiver pass down his spine. If Iwa-chan knew how he lived alone, in the private commander’s quarters, he’d be mad.
“But get more sleep tonight,” Iwaizumi grumbled quietly, almost as if he didn’t want to be caught saying it – like the idea that he might care for Oikawa was too embarrassing to make public, “or I’ll come in into your room and beat you up.”
“Waaa, mean, Iwa-chan – !”
–
Much to Oikawa’s surprise, Iwaizumi hadn’t actually given him warning before the game, and Oikawa wasn’t sure why. It was obvious that Iwa-chan could read him – not only was he stiff and forced during breakfast, he was just as tense in their warm-ups before the match. He wasn’t nervous; Oikawa was simply getting into a competitive mood he wouldn’t be able to escape from. But anyone could tell that there was something irritating Oikawa, causing him to become extremely antsy and more frightening than usual.
Yet, Iwaizumi had been silent and focused elsewhere. All he’d done was slap Oikawa on the back and wish him luck.
“Pull us through, asshole.”
–
Oikawa had almost lost control. If it wasn’t for Iwaizumi pulling him back when he had opened his mouth to shout something vulgar that wouldn’t change the game, but would only make him seem more childish, he would’ve lost a large amount of his credibility to graduate as a military officer. He was always on thin ice it seemed, but Iwaizumi realized how fickle he was, and would always be there to support him before he threatened to fall.
“Iwa-chan, you’re not a commander yet,” Oikawa frowned as they walked back to the dorms, purposely ignoring the flashing light codes in the hallways which directed their army to their destination. It would give them more time to talk, and Iwaizumi had complained about not wanting to go back to the dorm with the rest of the soldiers because he had a headache.
He shot Oikawa a glare that seemed to say, ‘leave it be,’ but nonetheless replied simply, “You’re perceptive.”
“I think you should have one,” Oikawa was certain that he would be a cood candidate for leadership. He somehow managed to keep his best friend in-check, as tiring as Oikawa had made it for him; it would be much easier to lead a group of teenage boys. He was intelligent, too, and kept himself in a better emotional state than Oikawa; he would be a skilled leader, though his temper was ufortunately short and harsh. But he might’ve joked, for Iwa-chan’s sake, that most of the corporals in charge of the battle school also had terrible tempers.
“If I did, you know I’d beat you in the arena,” his friend joshed in return, giving a soft chuckle that Oikawa was surprised to hear come from him, though it echoed through the barren halls like a dead, emotionless sound. It was heartening to hear him express himself more, in a better mood than it seemed he’d been earlier, when he’d unnecessarily concerned himself with Oikawa. “Too often for your taste.”
“Ne, but you’d never beat me at attractiveness or niceness,” Oikawa gave a wink. “Iwa-chan is too grumpy to make other friends – you better appreciate me!”
Iwaizumi hit the back of his neck rather forcefully, making Oikawa stumble forward with his head ducked. “I appreciate you for being a pain in the ass, sure.”
Rubbing his neck and pouting, as if the blow had hurt his feelings more than his body, Oikawa snickered. “And Iwa-chan is terrible at comebacks, too.”
“Whatever,” was the deadpan response. Iwaizumi hesitantly raised his hand again, and seeing him from the corner of the eye, Oikawa ducked in expectation of another hit. Much to his relief, however, it didn’t come; Iwaizumi had clapped him on the shoulder casually, and pulled him a step closer.
Though they’d lost, they were still fine. When Iwaizumi caught Oikawa’s gaze, arm still around him, the corner of his mouth tugged upward in a small smile, and without saying anything they both understood each other: We’ll keep fighting.
“You’re actually not that bad for someone with such a shitty personality, y'know.”
⛄️ Christmas present from @nebaaru to @kabedont ⛄️
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