head over heels for iwa

Ushijima comes up from behind you and grips your hips with his large hands before he presses a tender kiss on your nape. “What’s on your mind?”

You smile as you turn around in his grasp to wrap your arms around his neck. “Nothing much.”

Ushijima raises a brow as he moves his hands from your hips to your waist. “By nothing, I’m guessing you mean anything and everything.”

You grin as the two of you begin to sway to the silence. Dancing to nothing but the sound of your breaths and the noise from the city below. “You know me too well.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Ushijima smiles as he pulls you in for a kiss.

You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms tighter around Ushijima’s neck to pull him closer to you. The telltale signs of lovesickness had been set in motion in your body once more: warming cheeks, speeding heartbeats, and crashing lips.

As you find yourself pulled deeper into Ushijima’s embrace, you wish for the world to freeze this moment. Unmoving. Unchanging. Immortalized in your memory and for the rest of your waking reality.

A few days after your engagement with Ushijima, you found yourself in the place where it all started. Shiratorizawa had not changed at all since you left. Sure, the notices hung on the wall, the faces that roamed the rooms, and the shape of the shrubbery had changed, but everything else was the same as you remember it.

You shut your eyes, take a deep breath, and it’s almost as if you’re transported back to 2012. A year of loss, victory, stagnancy, and change. So many had happened, and it all rushed past you in the blink of an eye.

“Love—“

“Yes!” You stand up straight from the bench, eyes wide open in an attempt to pull away from your little flashback. “Yes, hi. Sorry, Toshi, I was… Lost in thought. Are you done talking to Washijo-sensei?”

“Yes.” Ushijima chuckles softly as he flicks your forehead lightly. “You should be more observant of your surroundings. What if it wasn’t me who found you?”

“But you did, didn’t you?” You grin up at him only to see him looking ahead.

You turn around and your eyes land upon a familiar sight.

Warmth floods your cheeks and Ushijima laughs as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “I remember Tendou catching us there.”

You smile fondly at the memory as you look at the tree beside the volleyball gym. “Not my fault you kissed me all of a sudden.”

“Not my fault you look absolutely irresistible.” Ushijima’s warm breath tickles you as he leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear, placing a quick kiss before he lays his chin back onto the top of your head.

O no! It is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

Ushijima Kimiko’s eyes were burning holes into your skull. It was clear from the moment you had stepped into the house that you were not welcome. That you were not the one she wanted for her son.

There’s bitterness in the way she looks, the way she acts, and the way she speaks. She’s eloquent, so well-spoken that you wouldn’t have noticed the insinuation of each backhanded compliment she threw your way. Her son seemed to be oblivious to the silent war of undertones and context buried underneath your exchange of seemingly harmless words. It had gone on for the entirety of dinner, his mother unforgiving and you unrelenting. If she thought her disapproval would send you running, then she was sorely mistaken.

After dinner, Ushijima leads you to his room. A place you had not acquainted yourself with because this was the first time Ushijima had brought you into his home. Your lover sits on the bed, watching you while you familiarize yourself with the setting.

“So this is where you grew up.” You smile to yourself, choosing to bury the events that transpired earlier into the darkest corners of your mind in hopes that it would be consumed into the void. “Nice room.”

Your eyes trace over every inch of the room, taking in what you can to better understand the man that you were soon going to marry. It’s plain, nothing revealing anything personal save for the pictures lined up and hung on the wall.

There were many different faces. A young girl, a few boys, some familiar, some unknown. There were also pictures of some teenagers, particularly the members of the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club.

“Is something bothering you, love?” Ushijima asks from his bed where he’s currently seated. “You haven’t been talking much since dinner.”

You froze on the spot, having an internal debate on whether or not you should voice your concerns.

“Come here.” Ushijima beckons you to come closer and you do. You stand between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders as you continue to look at the pictures behind him. Ushijima reaches for your hand on his shoulder, intertwining your hands there as he plays with the ring on your finger. “Something’s wrong.”

“Toshi…” You sigh, giving in. “I don’t think your mom likes me very much.”

It’s Ushijima’s turn to tense up. “My mom doesn’t like anyone.”

“Yeah well… I think she hates me.” You fiddle with Ushijima’s collar. “God, I hope not. I really wanted her to like me too…”

“In time.” Ushijima smiles as he pulls at your hand to make you cup his cheek. “But for now, let’s talk about it at home.”

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Ushijima sits alone on the couch, waiting for you to come back. You had left after a heated exchange, unable to stand being in the same room as him, it seems. A few weeks had passed since your visit to his childhood home, and things in your relationship have been somewhat rocky since then. While Ushijima wanted his family to accept you, he knew that their disapproval wouldn’t stop him from pursuing a life with you. You were the person who stood by his side when nobody else was there. The world would have to end before he let you go.

But you didn’t understand that. You were still stuck in the events that transpired at the dinner table while Ushijima was already walking towards your future. He knew he shouldn’t have invalidated your concern simply because he could stomach going against his mother. He just wanted this argument to end, he had an Olympic game tomorrow, and he didn’t want to walk in there with a heavy heart that would most definitely affect his performance.

The ringing of the doorbell pulls Ushijima from his thoughts. He stands up and walks towards the door to answer it, wondering who it could be since he did not remember inviting anyone.

When he opens the door, it is not noticeable, but there is shock written on his face. “Sato-san, what brings you here?”

“Ah, Waka-kun! Your mom told me I’d be able to find you here.” Sato pushes a paper bag into Ushijima’s hands, her eyes disappearing into lines as she gives him a bright smile. “I just got back from Cali, and I wanted to give you your souvenir and some ingredients from Kimiko-san…”

“Ah, thank you.” Ushijima gives a soft smile as he grips the paper bag tighter in his arms. He knew that his mother was in the area, visiting so that she could watch her son’s game tomorrow. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?”

“Ah no! It’s fine.” Sato waves her hands, smiling as she turns the offer down. “I have to go meet up with a friend.”

“Ok then.” Ushijima nods. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Same here.” Sato moves to walk off. “I’ll be off then.”

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

With his bending sickle’s compass come...

When you come back home, Ushijima is quick to pull you into his arms. A string of apologies falls from his lips, weaving their way into your hearts as you melt into your fiancé’s embrace. The walk had cleared your mind enough, and you knew that Ushijima had a point. If he was willing to brave it out despite his mother’s disapproval, then you would do so as well.

After all had been said, and the issue was closed, you both retired for the night. Ushijima lays on his side of the bed, and you on yours. You turn to your side and are met by Ushijima’s broad back. Scooching closer, you wrap your arms around him, press a kiss onto his nape, and mumble, “I love you.”

You wait a few seconds for a reply, but you are met with silence. You sighed and wrapped your arms tighter around him, nuzzling your face between his shoulder blades. He was probably asleep.

Ushijima was wide awake. Memories of a young girl with bright eyes and rosy cheeks running through his mind. And as he loses himself to vivid images of the past, sleep never laid itself upon his eyes that night.

The next day, you make Hayashi rice from the ingredients that his friend had delivered, and you wish him luck.

Apparently, that luck wasn’t enough because the Japan team had lost to Argentina that day, and as much as you wanted to comfort Ushijima, his mother had gotten to him first and was now talking to him inside the stadium.

You waited outside of the venue, sitting on the steps that led up to the doors that opened to the realm of competition and Olympic athletes. You could only wait it out, not wanting to bother your fiancé and his mother in fear that the latter might attack your very being once more.

The sound of footsteps comes closer, and you turn around quickly in hopes to see your lover, but you are met with the sight of their trainer instead.

“Oh, Iwaizumi-san!” You stand up to bow. You notice the red at the corners of his eyes as if he had been crying. You don’t ask. It was normal to be upset after a loss. “You guys fought well, Iwaizumi-san.”

Iwaizumi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He moves to sit beside you on the steps, and you follow suit. “Hey, L/N-san…”

“Hm?” You reply with a hum. While Iwaizumi and you were not close, you two were still familiar enough with each other to carry a casual conversation. “What is it?”

“You’re a writer.” Iwaizumi states, but there is hesitance in his tone.

You can’t help but snort. “No shit.”

Iwaizumi glares at you, and you suppress a laugh. “Ok, I’ll stop, but yeah, I am. Why?”

“That means you’re good at the poetic symbolism shit right?” Iwaizumi asks for confirmation and you resist the urge to laugh at his choice of words.

“I like to think that I am good at the—“ You use your hands to show air quotes, “—poetic symbolism shit as you said.”

“Does first love never really die?” Iwaizumi asks and you nearly choke on air.

Iwaizumi is looking at you expectantly, and you look like a deer caught in the headlights. Out of all the things that could happen in your life, talking to Iwaizumi Hajime about his love life was not something you even thought of ever happening. Not even a single bit. It’s silent, and you realize that Iwaizumi is waiting for a reply.

You pause to think, not wanting to give Iwaizumi a half-assed answer that could make whatever he was going through worse. It seemed like Iwaizumi was more hung up over this than he was over the game they just lost, and while you don’t know the full story, you realize its gravity. “It’s something people like to say… Haven’t quite understood it because I’ve never felt it…”

You smile sadly. It seems like Iwaizumi wasn’t given the similar luxury of living out the rest of his life with his first love. “First love never dies, but true love will bury it alive.”

“And what if your first love is your true love?” Iwaizumi asks, his fists clenching as he looks down at the steps.

“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning a lifetime that was never meant to be yours.” You sigh as you pat Iwaizumi in the back. “You never really know if it’s true love, Iwaizumi-san. Tomorrow promises nothing, after all. The only time you’ll ever truly know is when you’re a breath away from death and reliving your entire life.”

“Fucking hell.” Iwaizumi mumbles to himself. “Love is hard.”

“It is.” You smile. “But whatever the situation, Iwa-san… Don’t deprive yourself of the opportunity to move on, yeah? It’s kind of like volleyball.”

Iwaizumi turns to look at you. “How so?”

“Well, when you get blocked during games, do you stop spiking for the rest of the game?” You raise a brow.

It’s silent until suddenly, it’s not. Iwaizumi is laughing. He’s standing up, and he pulls you up before enveloping you in a hug. “You genius, I hate that you have a point.”

You reach around to pat his back, happy that your words somehow enlightened him. You knew that this enlightenment was brief and that somewhere along the way, Iwaizumi would be tempted to give up, but you were glad to have at least given him a way out. “As I said, I’m good at the poetic symbolism shit.”

A cough interrupts your little hug session with Iwaizumi, leading to the both of you pulling away and turning to the source of the noise.

It seems like the universe just loved screwing you over because standing at the top of the steps were three people: two familiar faces, and one that was teetering between remembrance and oblivion.

Ushijima Kimiko looked smugly angry. Her son looked confused, tinges of betrayal creeping into his eyes. The young woman beside them on the other hand looked absolutely livid as her eyes flitted between you and Iwaizumi.

“How scandalous.” You could hear Ushijima Kimiko whisper to her son. “Are you sure this is the woman you want to marry?”

You pretend you don’t hear it, forcing a smile and a bow. “It’s nice to see you again, Ushijima-san.”

Iwaizumi on the other hand does not let the comment pass. “There’s nothing scandalous about the situation, Ushijima-san. I simply asked my friend for advice and showed my appreciation. She loves your son too much to ever even think of looking at other people.”

You notice how the stances of Ushijima and the young woman relax.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ushijima Kimiko’s smile is tightly lipped.

The drive to Ushijima’s penthouse was silent and absolutely tense. Ushijima’s knuckles were practically white with how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. You can see the creases between his brows deepening as he clenches his jaw in both frustration and concentration.

“Who was the girl from a while ago? She looked familiar.” It was a seemingly harmless question on your end. You didn’t want to talk about the game because they did lose. You didn’t want to bring up his mother because that would be another argument. You didn’t want to talk about Iwaizumi because you figured that maybe the hug you shared was the reason for his frustration. So you decided to settle with the one thing in that situation that had no heavy feelings attached.

Well, you were sorely mistaken.

Ushijima tenses up before he relaxes. “She’s my childhood friend. She used to be my closest friend until middle school.”

“Ah.” You nod to yourself. “Cool.”

“She means nothing to me now, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ushijima quickly added.

“Ooooh, did little Toshi have a crush on her?” You tease, trying to use this opportunity to lighten the mood.

Ushijima tenses up before a fond smile makes its way to his face for the first time since this morning. “She was there for me throughout my childhood. She helped me get through my parent’s separation.”

You didn’t know why, but you finally realized why she looked familiar. It was minimal, very minimal… But there was a large similarity between her facial and body structure and yours. And as you realize this, the conversation you had with Iwaizumi echoes disturbingly through your head.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

Although they had been given a month-long break after the game, Ushijima was still out most of the time. Some part of you was bitter over the fact that your fiancé chose to spend more time spiking balls and playing with his teammates (that he already plays with on a regular basis), but you don’t pressure him to stay. If that made him happy, then you were happy with it as well. But still, some part of you wishes that he would just stay in with you and cuddle while you type your next piece on the laptop.

Later that night, Ushijima comes home with his arm slung around Kageyama who looked like he had just walked through hell and back. There’s a dopey grin on his face as he reaches out for you and crashes his body against yours. The smell of alcohol fills your nostrils, and you scrunch your nose up in disgust.

“Please take care of Ushijima-san.” The setter bows lightly before straightening up.

“Thank you for bringing him home.” You smile at Kageyama who blushes a deep red.

“I’ll take my leave.” Kageyama bows and walks off.

You shut the door once you see that Kageyama has made it to the elevator.

“You’re so pretty…” Ushijima’s grin is wide as he cups your cheeks. Nuzzling his nose against yours before peppering kisses all over your face. “Can’t believe you’re here…”

Ushijima presses you against the door and leans down to capture your mouth into his. He presses against you, grabbing at your wrists to wrap your arms around his neck as he pushes his mouth harder against yours. There’s desperation in the way he digs his fingers into your hips as he lifts you and pulls at your legs to wrap it around his waist.

“I love you so much…” Ushijima whispers between kisses as he nips at your neck. “Don’t ever leave me again… Fuck.”

Ushijima’s hand creeps under your shirt, trailing on your skin while his other hand supports you against the door. As good as it felt to be finally receiving attention from your lover, you grab at his wrist to stop him. “Toshi, you’re drunk. Let’s go to bed first, yeah?”

“What happened to Waka-kun?” There’s a pout on Ushijima’s face, and you would find it endearing if you weren’t confused by the words that left his mouth.

Choosing to chalk it up to his drunken stupor, you just smile, unwrap your legs from his waist and bring him to bed. “You need to sleep.”

Once you two were settled in bed, Ushijima nuzzled himself into your neck as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, positioning himself to prepare for sleep.

His breath tickles your neck as he mumbles, “Don’t ever leave me, please.”

“I won’t.” You smile as you sink deeper into his embrace. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You love me?” Ushijima was a talkative, sappy kind of drunk, it seems. “Really?”

“Very much.” You mumble as you intertwine your fingers with his.

“You’ll stay with me forever, right?” Ushijima’s voice is weak, almost as if he was afraid of what your answer could be.

“Of course.” You answer without a second thought.

You can feel Ushijima kiss your neck before his breathing starts to slow. It’s a whisper, the way he says it, lips brushing as he lightly mouths the words into your skin, but you hear it clear as day.

“I love you, Fuyumi-chan…”

If this be error and upon me prov’d,

You stare blankly at the Instagram profile on your laptop screen, your hands on the table as you focus all your emotions into clenching them as tight as possible. The apartment is quiet, but the noise in your head is a different story. Voices, faces, and emotions flood your brain, each wave stronger than the last as it threatens to drown you into the void of your head. You briefly wonder where it all went wrong.

When Ushijima decided to get drunk? No, it wasn’t.

When Iwaizumi hugged you after their loss at the Olympics? No… It wasn’t that either.

Maybe when you had visited Ushijima’s childhood home? No. Although it seemed like it went downhill from there… It wasn’t that.

It all went wrong the moment you allowed yourself to fall in love with Ushijima Wakatoshi.

“Good morning.” Ushijima smiles as he sits across from you on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.

You force a smile. “Slept well?”

Ushijima freezes for a split second before recovering. “Had a good dream.”

“Good for you.” You don’t know how much longer you can pretend like your relationship wasn’t falling apart. “About the wedding—“

“We’re having it in 2 months right?” Ushijima interrupts you, and for some reason, it looks like he’s trying to avoid something. “I’m still on vacation, so I’ll be able to help you and the coordinator plan it—“

“Let’s call it off.” You interrupt with a smile.

“Do you want to move it to a later date?” Ushijima furrows his brows as he reaches over, grabbing your left hand, his heart sinking when his thumb brushes over skin instead of silver on your finger. “Where’s your ring?”

“Wakatoshi,” You start with a smile, your voice as steady as it could be while a war rages in your head, “I don’t want to get married anymore.”

For someone who understood words best when they were said directly, Ushijima Wakatoshi was having a lot of trouble understanding you right now.

Ushijima’s frown deepens, but he continues to speak casually. “That’s fine. We don’t have to be married to love each other, right? That’s just a formal ceremony—“

“I’m leaving, Wakatoshi.” You attempt to pull your hand away from his grasp, but Ushijima holds it tighter.

There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re almost tempted to stay. Ushijima crying was not a common sight. You had only seen it happen once in the entirety of your relationship, and your heart breaks at that thought.

“When will you come back?” His voice is desperate as he looks into your eyes, searching for any sign indicating that you’ll stay. He finds none.

You can only smile. “I’m sorry.”

You stand up and shut your laptop, walking off to your room to pack your things. You didn’t want to make this harder than it had to be. You didn’t want to see him cry, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. If this was love then it seems that Shakespeare was wrong, or maybe what you have isn’t love. But if it isn’t love, then why did every single step away from Ushijima’s crying figure feel heavier and more painful than the last? Why did you yearn for him despite the stabbing in your chest?

When Ushijima hears the door of your shared bedroom close, he opens your laptop, wondering if he’ll find an answer there.

And he did.

Sato Fuyumi’s unmoving face stares back at him, a smile etched onto her face as the sun shines brightly behind her. At that moment, Ushijima understood. Last night was no dream, it seems, but he had blurred the lines between fantasy and reality and that led to the inevitable decay of whatever it was that you two had. With that, Ushijima stood up and walked to your shared room, one last time.

“I’m sorry.” Ushijima states from the doorway. He expected you to be packing your things, but he didn’t expect that seeing it would hurt this much. It was almost as if you were ripping his chest open with each clothing you pulled from your shared cabinet.

“I know.” You whisper, unable to trust your voice.

There’s silence as Ushijima sits beside you on the floor.

“Toshi...” The name feels heavy in your mouth as you speak. “Did you—“

A sob somehow manages to break free, and now you were crying.

Ushijima pulls you into his chest, guilt and despair filling his chest as he feels you sob and shake in his hold. He wishes he could make it all go away, but how could he when he was the reason you’re this way in the first place?

“Please tell me the truth…” You grip at his shirt, your forehead pressed onto his collarbone as you let the tears fall one after the other. “Did you… Did you ever love me?”

Ushijima answers with no hesitation. “I did.”

You cry harder into his chest as you mourn the lifetime that could’ve been yours. Images of a distant life fill your head: a home in the countryside, a young boy, a young girl, a loving husband. You allow yourself to bask in the illusion for a second before you pull yourself away. You were afraid that if you had stayed any longer, you’d never be able to walk away.

“We can make it work, Y/N.” Ushijima pleads one last time. “This is just something we have to work through. We’ll get past this and then we’ll live the rest of our lives together. We’ll go to the countryside when I retire, raise our kids there—“

You cut him off. “Stop.”

“You could write from there. It’s peaceful, no one will disturb—“

You cry harder into his chest, gripping tighter at his shirt. “Stop please, just stop already—“

“We can still make it work, Y/N. Just stay—“

“Just stop!” You pull away, daring to look into Ushijima’s eyes. “It’s never going to work. We would be living a lie if I agreed to all of that. It’s clear that you’re still in love with her, and you always will be!”

Ushijima’s shoulders slump down in defeat, and he lets you cry it all in front of him.

“And what if your first love is your true love?” Iwaizumi asks, his fists clenching as he looks down at the steps.

“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning a lifetime that was never meant to be yours.”

Your own words haunt you.

I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

You realize it now, looking back.

Years of denying the poet only for you to agree with him in the end. It took you 3 years, but now, you were ready to admit that Shakespeare was right in all he said about love. Everything around you was just pointing in a different direction, you just didn’t realize it when you were still in the middle of it all.

It was a mess you no longer wanted to revisit, but you brave through it for your friend.

You watch the love of your life mourn a lifetime that could’ve been his.

Ushijima Wakatoshi watches as the love of his life goes down the aisle.

Sato Fuyumi smiles as she sees the love of her life waiting at the end of it.

Iwaizumi Hajime looks ahead one last time as the love of his life sits somewhere in the crowd.

And somewhere in the sky, Cupid laughs.

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink

Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;

After a few weeks of tutoring, Bokuto’s grades were slowly getting better. It wasn’t “satisfactory” yet, according to Honda-sensei, but you guys were getting there. As a celebration, right after volleyball practice, Bokuto drags you to the closest cafe and tells you to choose anything you want because it was “on him” as he enthusiastically stated.

“Bokuto-san, you didn’t have to.” You mumble bashfully as Bokuto sets a tray down and seats across from you.

“Don’t worry about it!” Bokuto grins as he slides the food over to you. “It’s the least I can do since you’ve been such a great tutor.”

A small smile makes its way to your face. “I guess I’ll take it then. Thank you for the food!”

As you eat, you can see Bokuto’s eyes continuously flitting back and forth between a spot on your face and away from it. He looked hesitant, but your sudden speaking urges him to reply.

“Is there anything on my face?” You furrow your brows, raising a hand to wipe at your cheek.

“Ah yeah, wait, not there.” Bokuto reaches over the table, a large hand cupping your cheek before he presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth and swipes to remove whatever it was on your face. “You had sauce on your face.”

Fire and ice could co-exist at once, you concluded. Because if it didn’t, then you would like to present yourself as evidence. You were frozen, but inside you, there was an inferno of different emotions swirling, sparked by a single touch on your skin.

That night, after Bokuto had walked you home and you had settled in for the night, you dreamt of black and white streaks paired with the brightest golden eyes. You let yourself dream. You knew that this was the closest you could get to him. The real world wasn’t as kind to you after all.

While you slept soundly, Bokuto walked home. It was raining, but it didn’t matter to him because as the rain drops onto his skin, he wished that it was your touch that fell upon him instead. And for a second as he imagines, it almost felt like it was.

And though he so desperately wished for it as he lied in bed, slumber never came. Instead, in its place, were a hundred different stories, a hundred different futures, a hundred different lifetimes, and they all ended with the sight of a bashful smile, and the prettiest eyes.

Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,

Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;

You gripped at your skirt tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape your eyes. Fear gripped your chest as you watched Bokuto’s sleeping figure from your place on the chair beside the bed. There had been a small accident during Fukurodani’s practice match, a small collision, but it was enough to send him to the infirmary and you running after him.

It was stupid, you think to yourself. You had rushed to the clinic the moment your break started, and by the time you reached the room, you were a mess. The nurse only gave you a cheeky smile before she patted your back and said, “Don’t worry about your boyfriend. It’s a minor injury and it was probably just an ant bite for someone like him.”

Ant bites didn’t usually require sleep for recovery.

Also, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d be the biggest liar on earth if you said that you didn’t want him to be. You were just his tutor. Sure you’d been tutoring him for a long time, and that was enough to form a friendship of sorts, but that was all you’ll ever be: a friend. So why were you acting like you were something more? Friends get concerned, they’ll drop by, check on you, go off once they realize it’s minor and you’re in good hands, and then wait for you to recover. They don’t stay, fussing, practically crying, and worrying over something so small.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that the sudden placement of a heavy palm on your head startles you.

Bokuto chuckles as he takes in your disheveled state. Your eyes are damp, your hair is slightly messed up, and your skirt is still tight in your grip, but even then, he still couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way you looked. “Hey hey hey, did I make you worry that much?”

You can’t help it. He’s recovering, you know that, but you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at him and enveloping him in a hug. “I hate you so much. Promise me you’ll never make me worry like that ever again.”

Bokuto chuckles and you could feel the vibrations since you two were practically chest-to-chest. “If making you worry means you’ll hug me like this, then I don’t think I can make any promises.”

“Bokuto-san…” You attempt to pull away, but find yourself unable.

Sturdy arms wrap around your waist, and your frozen figure is pulled tighter against Bokuto’s body as he engulfs you with his larger frame. “Do you like me, Y/N-chan?”

You freeze.

Oh hell no.

Out of all the conversations in this world, this one was the one you did not want to have, especially not when you were emotionally vulnerable. You didn’t know if you had enough control over yourself to give the proper answers.

“What? No! I mean yes? You’re my friend, of course I like you.” Your fight or flight response to this conversation seems to have given you ample strength to pull away. You attempt to stand straight and face this problem head on, but your feet are pointing you towards the exit.

Ready to run. From this conversation. From your feelings. From rejection.

Bokuto raises a brow, a teasing grin on his face. “Oh, really?”

Contrary to popular belief (see: Honda-sensei), Bokuto Koutarou was not stupid. Very far from it. While he’s not academically gifted, he’s definitely smart on the people side of things.

You were an open book, and Bokuto was taking his time rereading every page.

“I…” You’re unable to answer, unable to find the words that would make the impending rejection hurt less.

“Well, if it helps—“ Bokuto sits up and sets his feet on the ground, lightly grabbing you to make you stand between his legs. “—I like you a lot.”

Your heart stops. Your world stops. Everything just stops. You’re gaping at Bokuto, mouth closing and opening as you try to find the proper words. You want to reply, eloquently, confidently, to save what’s left of your dignity, but you can only blink back at him.

You weren’t expecting this. Bokuto wasn’t expecting this.

A wave of uncertainty flashes through Bokuto’s eyes, and for a second, he wonders if he misread the situation. “Hey, it’s ok if you don’t feel the same—“

“Wait, no! That’s—“ You take in a deep breath, attempting to calm your racing heart as you try to find your next words. For someone who usually kept a level head, you sure weren’t acting like it. “That’s not it at all. I just… Are you sure?”

Bokuto is confused. He could understand the words individually. He could understand the sentence too, but he couldn’t understand its relevance in this context. What did you mean by ‘are you sure?’. Would he tell you if he wasn’t? Why wouldn’t anyone be sure about you? I mean, it’s you.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” Bokuto grabs your hand, and he laces his fingers through yours.

You don’t answer as you attempt to arrange your whirlwind of insecurity into one coherent sentence that could sum it all up. You didn’t want to burden him with an entire monologue of self-deprecation, but you couldn’t find a way to express the years of insecurity into one sentence that could do that feeling justice.

Bokuto sees this, and his heart breaks for a second. He was familiar with it. He knew those feelings all too well.

Uncertainty.

Doubt.

Self-Hatred.

“Can I kiss you?” Bokuto blurts out, and as he watches you get flustered, he thinks that this is a much better look on you compared to the one you were previously wearing.

You don’t speak. You just nod.

With that, Bokuto grabs you by the waist and reaches up to press his lips against yours.

It was Bokuto who broke the kiss, breathless as he pressed his forehead to yours. It was almost as if you had taken his breath away to breathe a new life into him with a simple kiss. You can feel his warm breath against your lips, his calloused hands gripping at your waist, and at the same time, you feel nothing. Maybe this is what it felt like to know of everything and nothing all at once. Hyperaware of every feeling, every part of your body that was connected to his, but at the same time you felt weightless, floating on a plane that didn’t seem to exist on earth.

“Can I do that again?” Bokut asks with a grin.

You don’t answer, simply grabbing at his collar and smashing your lips against his.

That was how your love story with Bokuto Koutarou started.

And you wish it ended there.

It well may be that in a difficult hour,

Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,

Bokuto’s fans were ruthless.

Bokuto’s fans are ruthless.

The toxic fangirls? Even more so.

Not all of them are terrible to you, some are kind, but there are enough bad apples that you start wanting to run away the moment you see the tree. His fangirls during highschool only ever went as far as gossipping and making snide remarks, but now that you were older and Bokuto was part of the MSBY Black Jackals, they had gotten worse.

Facebook? You don’t spend time there anyway.

Instagram? You’ve always avoided that place.

Twitter? Ah, good luck.

People are ruthless when they hide behind a screen and a fake name. Anonymity has a way of sparking bravery in even the most sheltered souls. There wasn’t a single tweet on your account that had no comment telling you how you’re not good enough, how Bokuto probably only stayed out of pity, how he’d probably break up with you soon, how they could make him happier than someone like you ever could.

Bokuto doesn’t know. He doesn’t have to know. You don’t want to tell him.

You’re never going to tell him.

It’s pathetic, you think to yourself. You’re afraid that if Bokuto saw these comments, the rose-colored glasses he wore would shatter. You were afraid that these tweets would tip him off the edge and plunge him into the sea of realization. The realization that he could do so much better than someone like you.

You were tired. So tired that you just want to give in to the comments and leave. It’s logical, after all. Bokuto would find someone much better than you. He’d go off, marry a girl deserving of him, and she’ll give him a family, a future, and a life worthy of someone like him. And you? You’d be free. Alone, heart destroyed beyond repair, but free. You could move on, move away, move as far as you could: out of sight, out of mind. It was so easy.

Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,

But you couldn’t.

The only thing you could do was stare at the tweets that dissected each and every single one of your insecurities and laid it bare, waved it around freely for the world to see and judge. You could only let the tears fall as the laptop screen glared back at your face. Everything is numb and you don’t feel like yourself as you scroll through every single comment and find yourself agreeing with each and every single one.

Sobs wrack throughout your body as it all becomes too much.

You’re too weak to stay, too weak to leave. So where do you go? Where the hell are you supposed to place yourself in this world when it feels like everything is going against you? Why was the world doing this to you? Why did it have to be you? You weren’t strong enough for this. You weren’t good enough for this, you never were, never are, and never will be--

“Love?”

You immediately slam the laptop shut and throw the covers over your body as if you had been there the whole time instead of sitting at the edge of the bed and crying over comments.

“Hey…” The side of the bed sinks. “Bad day?”

The fucking worst. You thought to yourself, but you only shook your head before burying your head deeper into the covers of your shared bed.

“Don’t wanna talk about it?” You can hear the worry in Bokuto’s voice as he places his hand on your waist over the blanket, rubbing up and down to soothe you.

Some part of you finds the courage to speak, and the words tumble out of your mouth faster than your brain can process them. “Why are you still with me?”

“Because I love you.” Bokuto doesn’t hesitate as he looks at your still-covered figure.

“What if you stop?” You mumble, but it was loud enough for Bokuto to hear,

“Not possible.” Bokuto gently pries the blankets away from you, uncovering your form that was curled up into a fetal position.

“But— Just—“ You turn the other way, unable to look at him. “What if you do?”

“Like I said—” You can feel the mattress behind you dip lower, sturdy arms moving to wrap around your waist as Bokuto nuzzles his face into your nape. “—not possible.”

With that, the tears start flowing once more.

You bury your face into the pillow, not wanting to show Bokuto because you knew that the sight of you crying wasn’t something he liked. He hated seeing you in distress, and he hated that the only thing he could do was talk you through it and comfort you.

“Hey hey hey…” Bokuto pulls away and makes you sit up straight before he sits against the headboard and pulls you to sob into his chest. “Where’s this coming from? What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong.” You spat angrily, your grip on his shirt tightening. Anger at yourself, anger at the universe, all summed up in a single sentence. “Nothing ever goes right anymore, and I’m just—“

Your speaking is interrupted as another wave of sobs. “I’m so tired.”

You can feel Bokuto freeze, his hand that was rubbing your back stopping as he takes in your words. “Of what?”

“Everything.” You murmur, your grip on Bokuto’s shirt loosening as you press your forehead against his neck. “Just everything.”

“Does that include me?” You can hear Bokuto’s voice waver as his grip around you gets weaker. “Are you… Are you breaking up with me?”

You’re silent for a while. Was this it? Was the universe making the choice for you?

Whatever it was, you take it.

You pull away and look down, unable to stare into Bokuto’s eyes. You didn’t know if you could pull through if you could see the look on his face as you say your next words. “If it means that it will all stop, then maybe I should.”

Bokuto’s heart shatters, and his world follows in its footsteps. He can feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He knew you had been acting off the past few days, but he gave you some space so that you could sort it out until you were ready to finally approach him. But this? He wasn’t prepared for this.

“Why?” There’s a painful tug at your chest as you hear Bokuto speak in such a broken tone. “Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” You cringe inwardly at your statement. Of all the things you could’ve said, you just had to say the most overused line in all of break-up history. “Bokuto, you—“

“It’s Kou.” You can hear Bokuto’s voice crack at the end. “It’s not Bokuto to you, Y/N. It’s Kou. Whatever it is just tell me, please I can fix it—“

“I’m the problem, okay?!” You couldn’t stop yourself from raising your tone, standing up from the bed to distance yourself from Bokuto. “I’m not good enough for you. I don’t deserve you. They’re right when they say that you could do so much better than me—“

You’re cut off as a sob pulls itself from your chest. Your chest is tight, your head is throbbing. Your legs are shaky and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling to your knees as you continue to cry. “I-I just… I know I don’t, but I-I’m so tired of b-being constantly r-reminded that I’m never g-going to be enough.”

“Y/N, none of that is true. Who told you that?” Bokuto’s tone gives away the pain he was feeling, but there was a hint of anger underneath it all.

You don’t answer, shaking your head, continuing to sob as Bokuto moves from the bed to kneel in front of you.

“Love, who told you that?” Bokuto places a comforting hand on your thigh as his other hand lightly grabs you by the chin to make you look at him.

“Everyone.” You wondered how pathetic you looked in his eyes right now. “Not a single day passes by where I’m not reminded by your fans. It’s stupid to keep listening to them, but they’re right—“

Bokuto cuts you off with a brief kiss, just enough to shut you up to give him a chance to speak as he moves to cup your cheek in his palm. “No, they’re not. They never will be.”

You don’t reply. You don’t argue, but you don’t agree either.

“Don’t break up with me, please.” Bokuto cups your face with both of his hands, occasionally brushing his thumb over your cheek as he presses his forehead against yours. “You mean the world to me. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are, and I know you don't believe that.”

You sob at that, and Bokuto is quick to press a kiss against your forehead and pull you into his chest. “If I have to spend my entire life reminding you of that then I will.”

I might be driven to sell your love for peace,

Or trade the memory of this night for food.

Bokuto hovers over you, his arms on either side of your holding him up as he looks at you with the most lovestruck look you’ve ever seen on someone.

“You’re perfect.” Bokuto whispers against your lips before he presses a searing kiss against your lips. “Absolutely perfect.”

Bokuto presses his weight against yours, pulling your bodies closer to each other as he continues to kiss you breathless. You wrap your arms around his neck, an attempt to blur the boundaries of skin, muscle, and bone that separate your soul and his. He pulls you closer against him, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of your hips as he trails his kisses down your neck and every expanse of skin that was laid bare for him.

“I love you so much.” Bokuto whispers repeatedly against your skin between every kiss he puts on you. “So much.”

As you laid beside Bokuto, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face nuzzling into his bare chest, the thoughts of ever leaving slowly become more distant and fade away into oblivion. His chest rises and falls, and you find your breathing slowly matching his as you observe his sleeping face, peaceful, unbothered by all the troubles of the world beyond your bedroom.

You smile to yourself. All rational thought tells you to leave, but for Bokuto Koutarou...

It well may be. I do not think I would.

You would’ve rolled your eyes and told him that restaurants usually were meant to serve food so asking for a bowl of noodles is not too much to ask as long as you pay, but the fear that clawed at your mind stopped you from doing so. His clothes were a dead giveaway of what he was. His maroon haori, his dark uniform, and the blade perched at his hip were enough to make you feel threatened. Only a demon slayer could awaken the instinctive fear that lies within you.“Would any noodle do?”

“As long as it’s warm.” The tall man replies as he sits on one of the tables, the one closest to your booth.

“It’ll probably take some time.” You warn even if you know that you could easily whip up some noodles in a short time. You were doing all that you can to rid yourself of the demon slayer’s presence.

“Take as much time as you need.” The man waves off your fraudulent worries before he relaxes into the chair that seems to be too small for his large frame. “I am in no rush.”

“I’ll go ahead then.” You smile tightly before going to the back to prepare some noodles.

You could feel your fear grow with each step you took away from the man’s presence. You had no qualms about having to defend yourself from him, should he attack, but there’s always that part of you that worries. It was also unnerving how he barely gave you a glance. The tired man seemed to be too absorbed in his fatigue to second-guess your true nature. Perhaps he knew what you were, and he was just toying with you, lulling you into a false state of comfort before he slashes his blade through your neck in one clean swipe.

He did not.

Once the man got his noodles that took you almost an eternity to prepare, he ate it up like it was his first meal in a long time before he stood up, paid for more than what the noodles cost, and disappeared into the shadows of the unforgiving night.

You pray it was the last time you encounter the mysterious slayer. Funny how faithless creatures call on the power of the very gods that have forsaken them when placed in danger’s way. You would think the power that coursed through your veins would set you in a high free of worries, unyielding and arrogant in facing any creature that dared breathe in your direction. However, you should’ve known that anyone who dares defy the power of the heavens will soon meet their match.

The gods reject your prayer, or maybe it never even reached them. The prayers of sinners remain flightless and bound to earth, whispered into the sky only for darkness and oblivion to consume it. Whichever it was, it didn’t matter because a week passed, and the mysterious slayer reappears.

You set a bowl of soup in front of the man and he thanks you. You acknowledge him with a nod before you walk back to your booth. This was the part you hated most: sitting on a chair and wondering if the man was going to figure out what you were. He seemed pretty dense for a man meant to kill such elusive creatures.

“Why do you only work at night?” The mysterious man asks before he takes a sip of water.

You could feel the fear in you growing stronger. Had he figured it out? “How are you so sure I only work at night?”

“I drop by here in the mornings.” The man looks at you, his gaze not giving away any of his thoughts. “I never see you.”

“Why? Are you looking for me?” You attempt to fluster the man, maybe that would shut him up and veer his thoughts away from suspecting you. “After all, you won’t really notice my absence if you don’t seek out my presence.”

“I am.” The man admits, and your attempts on flustering him seem to backfire because now you’re the one who’s flustered, but at the same time afraid, as strange as it sounds. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

You give him the same answer you give to those who get the opportunity to ask. “Working at night pays more, and I have to do less because of the lack of customers.”

You motion to the empty seats surrounding the two of you. “You’re the only one who dares to walk through the dark streets of a town rumored to be infested with evil spirits.”

“I am armed.” The man pats the sword on his hip. “And I’m sure it’s not the spirits that will harm people like you and me.”

“Oh?” At this point, you were playing with fire. However, the monotony of immortality is slowly eating away at the rational part of your brain. The desire to feel something more than just emptiness was leading you to dangerous roads that most likely ended in blood and death. “Then what exactly will harm people like you and me?”

“Demons.” The man replies without a pause, his once dull eyes seeming to glow with a raging inferno of hatred and bloodlust. “Foul creatures that prey on vulnerable humans like you.”

“You speak as if you are not human.” You reply with a stable voice, but it’s taking all of your efforts not to run away.

“I am human, but I am not as weak as one.” The man’s unwavering confidence seeps into his words, and you’re almost tempted to rip him into shreds just to extinguish that flame in his eyes. However, you could tell that he meant every word, and he could easily prove himself if you attack. “However, you are. You shouldn’t be working this late at night. It’s dangerous for a woman, especially one unarmed.”

“So what if I am a woman?” You scoff. “I can still put up a fight.”

“I am not questioning your abilities.” The man replies. “I’m sure you can put up a fight, but you shouldn’t have to if you just put yourself out of danger.”

“Why are you so concerned?” You can’t help but scoff at the man. You just wanted to get this shift over with.

“There are demons lurking in this town.” The man replies, stoic and unyielding. “And I’d like to keep the deaths as low as possible.”

“How brave of you.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Demons are but a tale to keep children in line.”

“I beg to differ.” The man replies. “Should a demon come your way, you’ll know just how horrible they are.”

You can feel your anger grow at his words.

“However, I’ll make sure I kill that demon before it lays a hand on any of the people in this town.”

“Do what you please.” You shrug. “By the way, I never got your name.”

“Why do you need my name?” The man questions, a brow raised questioningly.

“I’m going to gossip with a few ladies here and there about a man who goes to restaurants at the dead of the night and believes in demons.” You reply, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.” For the first time, you see the man smile.

Over the course of a few days, Ushijima’s late night visits become more frequent which led to you becoming more and more comfortable in his presence. His presence had breathed a fire into the cold emptiness that lay within your body, and you found yourself seeking his presence out more and more with each day that passes. Your relationship with the slayer was a friendship of sorts, a few conversations tossed around here and there before Ushijima departed into the night. However, that relationship took a turn during your weakest night.

The emptiness in your chest was not part of the promises that the demon offered you in your wintry deathbed. You should’ve known from the start that the price of rising from the ashes meant that nothing in this world could make you feel that burn again. The demon’s promises were as cold as the snow stained with your blood, if not colder, but you had deluded yourself into thinking that the promise of being reborn would breathe a new fire into you. Being placed at the brink of death had a funny way of clouding a person’s judgement.

It was at the moment, in the outskirts of the dark forest near the town, that Ushijima found you, mourning the death of your humanity and reminiscing the moments that led to it. The feelings had been bottled up for too long, and now the fragile glass that held you together was shattering violently. You were a shaking mess, tears staining your cheeks, blood coating your knuckles as you punched at the ground to feel something other than the void that was once your soul. Even then, the pain that throbbed through your knuckles wasn’t enough.

Ushijima pries you away from the ground and he pulls you to his chest. He doesn’t ask you to speak. He doesn’t ask you to do anything. He just lets you sob into his chest, cradling you in his arms as he runs his fingers through your hair in an attempt to comfort you. He wishes he could calm the storm within you, swipe a hand to alleviate the raging winds of sadness that stirs within you, raise a finger to silence the deafening thunder of regret that crashes within your soul, but could not. The gods despised creatures like you, and Ushijima realizes this as he watches the wounds on your knuckles heal at a speed foreign to the body of a mortal. Ushijima pretends to not see it as he removes his haori and drapes it across your trembling figure.

Ushijima brings you home, your meek voice guiding him as he carries you through the town. You did not have it within you to fight. You did not have it in you to think twice about the offer of being brought back home to the comfort of your bed that you did not even need. When you get there, Ushijima sets you down gently on your futon before sitting across from you, an arm’s distance away.

“I’m sorry for the trouble.” You whisper as you lean against the wall and hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to feel safer. You grip at Ushijima’s haori, pulling it tighter around you. A small voice in your head tells you to wonder about how many of your kind have stained the fabric with their blood, but you push it away because in this moment, nothing made you feel safer than the very thing that was meant to be a danger to your existence.

“Don’t apologize.” Ushijima is as straightforward as ever, and you’re not sure if the tears in your eyes are altering your vision, but you swear there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes the unbeating muscle in your chest flutter. “Do you… Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head. You knew that if you spoke now, you’d let it all out. Something about Ushijima made you want to tell the truth, whether it was trust or foolishness, you did not want to find out. It almost makes you feel bad as you’re reminded of what Ushijima does as you look at the sheathed blade by his side, but you knew that you would feel worse if you had to die at his hands. You didn’t want to see the disgust that would take over his face if he found out that you were one of the very creatures that he swore to destroy. “Can you… stay?”

“If it’s alright with you.” Ushijima replies coolly, but the light blush dusting his cheeks gave away his feelings towards your proposition.

Silence hangs between the two of you like the wisteria that grows on the mountain. Its presence was overwhelming, and it displeased you greatly. You glance at Ushijima for a brief second before you just give it all up. Courtesy be damned, you were lonely and fate was dangling an opportunity not to be right in front of you.

“Ushi—“ Your attempt to call out for Ushijima dies in your throat halfway through. It was pathetic. You thought you were done mourning what has been long dead, but for some reason, without a trigger, without a warning, you’re back suffering through the same feelings again. It wasn’t fair.

Ushijima immediately scoots over to you before he guides you to lie down on the futon. He holds you close to his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as you sob into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Sleep, it’ll help.”

You didn’t know which deity had gazed upon you and thought you deserved a semblance of mercy, but that night, sleep washes over your body as you surrender yourself completely in the demon slayer’s arms.

Ushijima awakens before you do. The sun was still out of sight, and you were still fast asleep. As much as he wanted to stay with you, he had a mission to fulfill in the other town. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he shuts your curtains tight to make sure that neither sunlight nor moonlight will filter through your windows. He knew it was wrong, whatever it was he felt about you. Fondness? Sympathy? Affection? Love? Whatever it was, he knew that he couldn’t feel that way towards you. He had sworn to kill your kind after all. However, for some reason, he can’t seem to do it with you. His hand remains far away from his blade, and the usual urge that Ushijima had to swipe a demon’s head clean off their neck was absent.

What the hell made you any different?

Ushijima shakes his head, hoping that the thoughts in his head would loosen its grip on his consciousness and fall out into the air and fade into the dark. It doesn’t work, but it doesn’t stop Ushijima from trying as he walks out of your house and into the blanket of the cold morning.

The next time you see Ushijima, he is draped in casual fabrics. His demon slayer uniform is out of sight and the sword perched at his hip is nowhere to be seen. In his hands, however, was a bouquet of gardenias.

“There’s a festival later.” Ushijima says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, and you’re almost tempted to tease him for the blush dusting his skin and for the lack of his usual air of unwavering confidence. “I would like to go there with you.”

It’s your turn to be flustered, an unfamiliar heat creeping through your cheeks as Ushijima stretches out the bouquet of flowers to you.

“Gardenias?” You gently grab the flowers from Ushijima’s grip before you give him a teasing smile. “Not my favorite, but they’re pretty.”

Ushijima smiles at your teasing. He has been around you enough to know your little quirks. “The woman at the shop told me they were fitting.”

You don’t understand what Ushijima means, but you don’t bother questioning it. “So, shall we?”

Ushijima smiles as he holds out an arm for you to take.

The music from the band rings all the way to the quiet part of town. Each note thrums in the air and you can almost feel your heart beating in time with the faint boom of the drums. The night is filled with life, and for the first time in your immortal lifetime, you are reminded of the long-forgotten beauty of the things that live under the sun. Ushijima, whether he knew or not, had given you a piece of the life that you have long turned your back on, and in that moment, as you sit beside Ushijima in the grassy landscape, you almost wish you could stay until the sun rises on you again.

“What are we, Ushijima-san?” You whisper out, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the night. You fear that if you spoke louder than a whisper, the shadows would awaken and devour the life that floated through the midnight sky.

“I seek out your company even when I am with others.” Ushijima replies as you both continue to observe the town from a distance, the slowly dwindling orange lights made it look like the embers of a dying fire. “And I can only hope you feel the same.”

Monotony can make even the most simple things feel like a momentous event. Simple words spoken by a simple man, nonetheless, they succeed in making your insides flutter with a felicity unknown to your immortal personage. “And if I do?”

“Then perhaps I would ask if I could kiss you.” Ushijima turns to look at you with an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, swirling like liquid pools of gold under the glimmer of the moonlight.

You attempt to swallow your nerves as you turn to gaze at Ushijima who sits beside you. Your voice still comes out soft and unstable, however, there’s an undeniable certainty in the words that leave your lips. “And if I allow you to?”

Ushijima brings his face closer to yours until your noses are a hair’s breadth away, his warm breath dancing on your lips as he moves to engulf your cheeks in his large calloused hands. “Then I would be the happiest man alive.”

His lips, his hands, his body, everything about Ushijima Wakatoshi is warm. The way his mouth moves against yours feels like the fire you have long forgotten when you decided to rise like a phoenix from the ashes. It dances through your interlocked lips, like a mortal breathing in the sun as he offers a graceful dance to the god of fire. It burns you, his touch, but it makes you feel alive. As Ushijima wraps his arms around your waist, and as he pulls you into his sturdy chest, you forget.

You forget that the fire he breathes into the empty shell of your body is the very same fire that is meant to snuff out whatever light is left within you.

The last time you see Ushijima Wakatoshi, it’s in the forest of the other town.

A brother in need had sent a letter to your domicile, seeking your presence in the mountains that he dwelled in. Oikawa Tooru was the one who showed you how to live after you were reborn. Your creator could not, and so the brunette was the one to fill that spot in. You owed Oikawa your life, and although it was life you used to regret living, it was a life that had brought you to Ushijima

Oikawa had been told that a group of demon slayers were sent to his mountain, and he sought your help. Apparently, the Sun Breather was one of the slayers they had sent. It was alarming to any demon, powerful or not, because every single one of you feared the sun, and to face the man who breathes its rays is even more horrifying. No one knew what he looked like. No demon ever crossed his path and lived to tell the tale.

Oikawa was afraid, and he sought your company.

This leads to your current situation, lingering in the trees with Oikawa across from you as you listened to the growing sound of footfalls against the snow. The moon is nowhere to be seen, and you can only hope that the shadows are enough to conceal you.

“Come out demon, you have nowhere to run.” The familiar voice makes you freeze in your position up in the trees. “There’s no use hiding when I’m going to kill you anyway--”

Oikawa dodges in time, and he hops to the next tree. Another slayer had attempted to kill him from the back.

You, however, are not as lucky as Oikawa is.

A slayer comes up from behind you and manages to slash through your arm. You fall onto the ground, bleeding profusely out into the cold snow, and it almost feels like you’re back at your deathbed.

You don’t lift your head, you didn’t want to see the look on Ushijima’s face when he confirms that it is actually you. You’ve tried so hard to conceal who you are in order to lengthen whatever time you had with the man, and you were not ready to lose him just yet.

“So you’re the Sun Breather.” Oikawa stands protectively over you. “I should have known.”

“Oikawa.” Ushijima nods in acknowledgement as the other slayers appear behind him, including the one who had slashed through your arm. “I never thought you would end up becoming one of them. You were a promising slayer after all.”

Oikawa laughs as he nudges at you with his foot, a silent plea for you to start running. “You brought quite a lot of slayers, I’m flattered.”

“And it seems you’ve brought a friend as well.” Ushijima turns to look at you, taking your figure in properly before he freezes. It couldn’t be, right? The owner of Sakanoshita said you were visiting a friend in another town. Ushijima clears his thoughts, and he hopes he is wrong. However, no matter how much he pretends not to see, he can’t deny the familiar figure. He had been around you enough to know you by the lingering traces of your presence.

“I’m giving you the chance to walk away, Sun Breather.” Oikawa hisses as he pulls you to stand up.

You cover your face with your hair, ignoring the world around you as you focused on mending the wound left by the slayer’s blade.

“Unfortunately, I cannot do the same for you.” Ushijima draws out his blade.

And with that, you and Oikawa break out into a run.

The snow is cold against your feet, you don’t feel it, but you remember the feeling very well. If there’s one thing from your past that you remember, it’s the feeling of the unforgiving cold that nips at your skin, eating away at your warmth until there’s nothing left in you but the raging winds of winter.

You can hear the footsteps, the crunch of the snow under the weight of the slayers that are sprinting to catch up with the two of you. There’s an undeniable fear clawing at your chest, devouring all rational thought and cultivating the demonic instincts that you wished you could destroy.

But alas, the consequence of power is beginning to catch up, and the gods have grown tired of your defiance. Death would not let you escape this time around. You have defied the heavens once, and those proud creatures would not let you disobey them again.

Oikawa stumbles as a slayer cuts him down, and he screams. He shouts at you to continue running, to not look back, and to save yourself from the fate that he knew he was about to suffer.

You can hear the sickly sound of the blade meeting skin, and you run. You run as fast as you can, as far as you can from the snowy mountain stained with the blood of the man you once called brother. Fear courses through your veins and you can only hope that none of them catch up to you.

And if ever they do, you pray that it wasn’t Ushijima to do so.

You are brutally reminded that the gods have no need for your prayers. They did not need the worship of a faithless creature. You trip over a branch concealed in the snow, and you’re sent rolling down a steep incline. The rocks dig into your body as you crash down into a snowy part of the mountain that overlooks the town. Crimson bleeds through the fabric that hugs your figure, and your blood stains the pristine snow.

You hear footstep as you lie defeated on the ground, and you shut your eyes as you surrender your fate to whichever slayer has found you. Redemption does not exist for beings like you. Only death can forgive you for defying it. There is no atonement for a sinner who does not accept their fate.

“Why are you giving up?”

You breathe out a chuckle. The gods really were cruel, of all that they could send to kill you, they sent the one that made you feel alive.

It was poetic, in a way. The man who breathed life into you would be the one to take it.

“It is my fate to die either way.” You mumble out as you trace the skies with your eyes, surrendering to its vastness. “Running away will only prolong my agony.”

“If someone else found you,” Ushijima kneels beside you, hand far away from the hilt of his blade. “Would you have given up this quick?”

“If someone else had found me,” You can feel a tear escape your eye. “I would’ve been long dead.”

“So you’re just going to die,” Ushijima lies down beside you, and you wonder if he can feel just how cold it was. You doubted that though, the man was practically an incarnation of the sun. Even the winter in your body died when brought close to his warmth. “Do you not care about what would happen to me?”

“You would not care.” You mumble out, your throat tightening and your head throbbing with the urge to sob. “I would’ve been just another demon dead.”

“But I would.” Ushijima sits up and brings you with him, gripping your arms as he looks into your eyes. This was the first time you’ve looked at him since the start of the chaos in this mountain. “I’ve always known. Ever since that time at the mountain, I knew.”

“Then why did you stay?” You could feel the tears flowing freely. You gripped at his haori, clenching your fingers tightly as your chest did. “Why didn’t you kill me? Why did you have to make me long for a life I cannot have? Why did you give me a taste of the sun when you knew it would kill me?”

Ushijima doesn’t speak as he wraps his arms around your sobbing form.

“Pathetic, don’t you think?” The laugh that escapes you is laced with bitterness. “I’m a fool for falling in love with someone I’m meant to resent.”

A chuckle rumbles through Ushijima’s chest and you wonder if he has gone mad. His grip tightens around you as he presses a kiss at the crown of your head. “Then I guess we are both fools.”

Hours pass and you are both silent, no one speaks, just having the other is enough. You listen to the beating of Ushijima’s heart, the sound lulling you into a state of calm that you haven’t felt in a while. For a moment, you both lose your identity. He is not the man who breathes the sun, and you are not the demon that brings death upon mankind. There was nothing in that moment that grounded you to the harsh reality of the world you lived in.

“Wakatoshi,” His name feels like a prayer as it falls from your lips. “I want to see the sun with you.”

You can feel Ushijima shaking. His breathing speeds up, and his heart starts beating faster. You can hear the sobs forming at his throat. “But… That would mean…”

You pull away from Ushijima’s chest and you move to cup his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” There are tears flowing down Ushijima’s cheeks as he leans into your touch. His heart mourns a death that hasn’t happened, and for a moment, you’re almost tempted to stay.

“They’ll kill you if you don’t kill me.” The smile on your face has an underlying tragedy underneath it. “And I don’t think you can raise your blade far enough.”

Ushijima’s eyes widen. “I could never raise--”

“I know.” You wipe the tears away with your thumbs. “So let me see the sun, okay? I’ve forgotten what it looks like.”

“Please,” Ushijima grips at your wrists. “Not like this.”

“One day, Wakatoshi.” You smile sadly. “A time will come where we can gaze upon the sun with no worries.”

“Please don’t do this.” Ushijima pleads with you, desperation evident in his words as he seeks to change the inevitable.

“There will be a lifetime for us, my love.” You run your fingers through his hair, you trace the features on his face, and you embed every inch of his face into your memory. “Maybe not today, but someday.”

You ease the wrinkles in between Ushijima’s furrowed brows. “Promise me you’ll find me?”

There is resignation in Ushijima’s eyes as he presses his forehead against yours. It is inevitable. The two of you can only make the most of what you are given, and you were not given much. “I would happily die a hundred deaths to reach the lifetime meant for you and I.”

You smile sadly. “Can I kiss you?”

“What if I say yes?” Ushijima thinks back to the festival as he gazes into your eyes.

You can feel a tear roll down your cheek. “Then I’d be the happiest woman alive.”

And as you kiss Ushijima, the skies begin to shift, the sun slowly rising in the horizon as dawn breaks in the distance. You never see the sun before you fade into the ashes you once escaped, but you didn’t have to. The only sun you needed held you in its arms, whispering confessions of love and promises of devotion.

Ushijima can only look at the rising sun with contempt. He hated how the very thing that gave him strength was what took away yours. He hated how you had to suffer. He hated how he had to fall in love with you in a world that would never accept it, but he relents.

The sun brings with it a hope so strong that it pulls Ushijima from his thoughts.

One day, he thinks to himself, the sun will shine on us again.

The sun is bright.

You were starting to think that hiking up a mountain during the summer was a bad idea. It’s not like you were the one who willingly brought yourself here. Oikawa was back from Argentina, and for some reason, the first thing he wanted to do was hike up a damned mountain. You don’t know where your brown-haired companion was, but you could care less. The view you got from this part of the mountain was a sight to behold.

The mountain overlooked the town. The skyscrapers looked like dots in the distance, and the city’s noise was unable to disturb the peace protected by the towering trees. As you breathe in the air and feel the sun kiss your skin, there’s an overwhelming sense of peace and recollection that floods through you.

Something about standing in that spot felt so familiar.

“Excuse me?”

You nearly trip off the edge at the sound of someone’s voice.

You turn to look at the culprit, ready to chew them out for almost sending you to your death. However, when you turn to look at the stranger, the words die at your throat.

You knew who he was, Ushijima Wakatoshi. One of the players in the Schweiden Adlers team. Someone Oikawa has always talked about with distaste.

However, you feel like you knew him more than just that. For some reason, as you look into his olive eyes, you feel like you’ve known him your entire life. And he probably felt the same because the next thing you know, the same words escape your mouths.

”Do I know you?”

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

In that moment, as you lose yourself in the kiss of a boy you had once considered a distant dream, the world stops and there is nothing left but the warmth of his hands against your skin.

I lift my lids and all is born again. 

Suddenly the world was back in motion as Oikawa pulled away from the kiss. Your eyes flutter open and before you, you see chocolate eyes and a charming smile.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N-chan?” 

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Oikawa’s voice. You were brought to the present. Oikawa hugging you from behind as you sit between his legs, an alien movie of sorts playing on your laptop placed on the bed (You didn’t bother checking the title since it was Oikawa’s turn to choose anyway).

“Have the aliens taken my adorable girlfriend and replaced her with a clone?” You can practically see the pout on his face from his tone alone as he wraps his arms tighter around your waist.

Your face warms but you don’t fold as you answer in your most deadpan tone. “I can only wish.”

“How mean.” Oikawa rolls his eyes, but amusement is clearly written on his face. “Iwa-chan is rubbing off on you.”

“Probably cause I’ve known him for as long as I’ve known you.” You answered casually. “Although I’ll admit it’s probably cause I’ve been seeing him more than I’ve been seeing you.”

You were not meant to say that.

You did not mean to say that (out loud, at least).

Especially not with that bitter undertone laced in your words.

“Oh?” You can practically hear the smirk in Oikawa’s voice as he digs his fingers lightly into your sides. “Replacing me with Iwa-chan already? How mean~”

One part of you was thankful that Oikawa chose not to unpack the issue of his recent absences since you weren’t really ready to lay your feelings out in the open yet. However, another part of you realizes that you just dug your own grave, and Oikawa Tooru was probably going to be a little shit about what you just said.

“Maybe you need me to remind you who your boyfriend is?” Oikawa’s lips brush against the shell of your ear and you could feel the tiniest of shivers diffuse throughout your body.

He presses a kiss behind your ear. Your face warms. He follows the previous action with a tender kiss on your neck. You nearly combust.

But of course, for the sake of what’s left of your dignity, you bite back. “Maybe I do.”

You can feel Oikawa grin against your neck, as if he expected nothing less. “Perfect.”

Oikawa turns you around so that you’re straddling him, legs thrown over on both sides as you sit on his lap. He grabs you by your wrists and leads you to wrap your arms around his neck before his hands eventually find purchase on your hips. 

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And with that, he’s kissing you. It was almost as if he was trying to chase away any thoughts of Iwaizumi from your head with the way he was moving his lips against yours. Oikawa knew that he didn’t have to worry, but he can’t help it. He’d take any opportunity to kiss his girlfriend senseless.

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

Oikawa brings his hand to your nape, pulling you closer, deeper into the kiss, deeper into the dream created by the motion of his lips. There’s a desperation in his actions as if he was trying to make up for something.

And in that moment, you understood. This was his temporary apology. The way his hands trailed from your neck down your arms before it settled on your hips was his way of placating any possible hostility you may hold against him for his recent absence.

You didn’t really mind. You understood that he was busy, but you had the right to miss your boyfriend every now and then. The only thing you could do now was to take as much as you could of Oikawa Tooru before he’s once again pulled back to the whirlwind that is called his life.

Oikawa pulls away for a second before he’s back to pressing kisses on any expanse of skin that he can lay his lip upon without moving from the position you were both in. You were both so lost in your makeout-session--excuse the lack of a better term--that you weren’t able to hear the text notifications from Oikawa’s phone until someone was actually calling him.

“Babe, your phone’s ringing.” You managed to pull away from Oikawa to inform him, but he’s relentless, ignoring what you just said and the phone in favor of trailing kisses up and down your neck.

“Babe--” 

Oikawa pulls away for a second. “Ignore it, they’ll probably give up soon.”

You roll your eyes and go back to kissing your boyfriend. You guys were getting back to the groove of things until it was once again interrupted by the ringing of Oikawa’s phone.

A groan of frustration leaves Oikawa’s throat at the disturbance, and you attempt to hold in your amusement at the irritated look he had on his face as he reached to the side and answered the phone.

“What?” You nearly snorted at how frustrated Oikawa sounded.

However, as the other person answered, that look of frustration was replaced with a softer gaze which made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. The stream of confusion only grew when Oikawa patted your thighs, an unspoken request for you to get off him.

“Oh Yuki-chan, what’s up?” A smile was on Oikawa’s face.

The stream of confusion had slowly turned into a murky ocean of several emotions that you had not encountered in a while.

Uncertainty.

Insecurity.

Fear.

You knew only one Yuki, and that was Fujimoto Yuki. The darling of the school, loved by all who meet her for her beauty and gentle nature. Oikawa’s friend.

Oikawa’s ex-girlfriend.

“Sure! Library on the second floor, and same time as always?” Oikawa talks animatedly for a second before freezing as if he was realizing where he was. When he speaks again, it’s softer, but there’s a hint of restraint in his tone as if he was trying not to show just how overjoyed he was.

Your heart sinks for a second before you mentally slap yourself. You felt guilty for feeling some dislike for the girl that Oikawa was talking to, but some part of you felt that you were justified in your dislike considering that this was your boyfriend’s ex. His ex who broke up with him because he was too invested in volleyball.

You felt sick.

A few moments pass and Oikawa ends the call. An awkward silence fills the room. Neither of you talk.

“I’ve been--”

“Was that--”

You both speak at the same time. You gesture for Oikawa to speak first and he does.

“I’ve been tutoring Yuki-chan recently.” Oikawa sounds uncertain.It was as if he was walking on eggshells with how cautious he was being. “If you’re wondering.”

“Fujimoto Yuki?” You sat against the wall that your bed was pressed to. “Your ex?”

“My friend.” Oikawa winces at the tone in your voice. 

You try to make sense of what’s going on, One part of you wanted to let out all the negative feelings that were bubbling in your chest, but the more logical part of you chose to tread carefully so that the conversation doesn’t end in an argument. “Is that why you haven’t been around these past few weeks?”

Oikawa’s breath hitches for a second. “Yeah.”

“Stop being so defensive then.” You mask the uncertainty that gripped at your chest with a teasing tone accompanied by a playful jab to Oikawa’s shoulder. “They’re just tutoring sessions, right?”

Oikawa takes the path of escape that you opened up for him as he gives you a small smile. “Yeah.”

For now, you were at ease. You crawled back into his arms and Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you before he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you.” You breathe out on his neck, heart racing with both love and fear racing through your veins.

Oikawa stills before he squeezes you tighter. “I know.”

 That moment in your bedroom was now a thing of the distant past. It was forgotten, buried under several layers of denial. Looking back, you realized that the turmoil you felt then was nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated agony that threatened to rip you open at the present.

“Argentina?” You mumbled to yourself, repeating it in hopes that you’ll be able to make sense of what Oikawa had just said. “You’re going to Argentina in a month, and you’re only telling me now?”

Oikawa reached out to you, regret painted all over his face. “Babe-“

“Don’t-“ You pushed his hand away, and you almost felt guilty as a glassy veil took over Oikawa’s eyes, “-touch me.”

“I’m sorry.” Oikawa looks down, clenching his fists so tightly that he almost broke through the skin. “I didn’t want to ruin the remaining time we had left.”

You frowned, extremely confused. “What do you mean remaining-“

Ah. A look of realization settles on your face, and suddenly the fight within you dies. I get it now.

“So you just planned on leaving me then?” For the first time since the start of this conversation, you look Oikawa dead in the eye. “Leave me behind, no closure or anything. I’ll be left wondering where I went wrong or why I wasn’t enough. Is that it?”

You could see the tear roll down Oikawa’s cheek before he hastily wipes it away. Your jaw clenched and your throat felt tight. He had no right to cry when you were the one being left behind.

“I didn’t want to hurt you-”

“And look where we are, Tooru.” You hissed venomously, the pain slowly transitioning into anger. “I would’ve understood you know? I’d be more than willing to make it work-“

The split-second widening of Oikawa’s eyes was enough of an answer to you.

“Oh.” Your mouth opens and closes, but no words leave your mouth. The next thing you know, you’re choking on your tears as you lean against the wall, sliding down to the floor as you gasp for air.

Oikawa’s eyes widen and he immediately rushes to kneel beside you. He pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back gently as he urges you to let it all out. “Fuck, Y/N. Just breathe, okay? Let it all out.”

An ugly sob wretches itself from your throat and you can only grip onto the sleeves of Tooru’s sweater to ground yourself to the world around you. Your head pounds, and a sharp pain repeatedly stabs at your chest as you hold onto Oikawa Tooru as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat in the ocean of your turmoil.

“I’m so sorry.” Oikawa murmurs against your hair, and it is followed by his tears as they drop onto your head. “God, I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

Oikawa’s sobs are beginning to match your own as he tightens his hold around you. 

All you can focus on is the fact that he said “I love you”.

It took a few minutes for both of you to calm down. Numerous tears had to be shed and endless sobs had to be released, and now, you both sit in the aftermath of your confrontation.

Oikawa still held you in his arms as he sat on the floor. His arms were still tight around your waist, and your arms were still locked around his neck. The perfect picture depicting two inseparable lovers if only one were willing to ignore tear-stained cheeks and the creases of sadness that seem to have etched itself onto their skin.

“I’m gonna come back.” Oikawa mumbles against your neck before he presses a soft kiss onto it. “I promise you. I will come back.”

“Go chase your dream, Tooru.” You mumble back as you bury your head deeper into his shoulder, lip trembling, fingers shaking. “I don’t want to be the one to stop you.”

“When I come back, I’ll win.” Oikawa tightens his hold as the tears threaten to fall from his eyes once more. “I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

You smile sadly, resignation settling into your veins. “I’ll be watching so you better win.”

Oikawa smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s too guilty. Too conflicted. Too absorbed in his self-deprecation to fully smile. Regardless, he answers. “I promise.”

 A month passes by. You don’t send Oikawa off. Only his friends and family were there, and you were nowhere to be found. Some part of him died at your absence, but another part of him was thankful because he probably wouldn’t have mustered the courage to get on that plane if he had to watch you slowly slip away from his grasp

You had both agreed that you’d enjoy the last month together. Oikawa thought it was best that you broke it off when he left for Argentina. He said it would be easier for you. You wondered if he was right. You wondered if you should’ve agreed. Oikawa was smart on and off the court, but emotions weren’t volleyballs that he could just toss around. Relationships weren’t game plans.

But it’s all in the past. From here on, you could only move forward. So you took up all you had, and you moved to Tokyo after you were accepted to a university in the capital.

The only connection you had left from your high school days was Iwaizumi. On occasion you’d talk to Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but it was Iwaizumi who had a more prominent role in your life. You had a strange bond, which was partially strengthened by the fact that you two were the people closest to Oikawa Tooru, and you were both left behind. The only difference between the two of you was that Iwaizumi still had contact with the setter while you had completely cut off all ties.

Aside from one tie, at least. From time to time, you’d find yourself looking through Oikawa’s social media profile. Just checking to see how he was doing.

If he was doing as badly as you were or if he had moved on.

It was what you were doing right now as you sat in a cafe waiting for Iwaizumi to show up to your usual “friendly” dates. The dates he liked to call “get Y/N’s dumb ass to move on from the dumbass called Shittykawa”. You were just about to click on Oikawa’s profile before someone suddenly took your phone.

It was Iwaizumi.

“Damn, what’s your problem?” You raised a brow as the former Seijoh ace took a sip from your coffee as he scrolled through your account, sitting down on the chair across from you. In all honesty, calling it a sip was an understatement, the man practically drank half of the cup’s content. Your eyebrow twitched in irritation.

“It’s unhealthy.” Iwaizumi answered once he had set the cup of coffee down, still scrolling through your phone.

“How is social media unhealthy?” You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you sipped what’s left of your coffee. “I’m just scrolling.”

“Makes you less productive.” Iwaizumi shrugs as he leans back on his chair, pointing an accusatory glace towards you. “Especially when you’re checking your ex’s Instagram.”

“I was not--”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Yes you were.”

“Yes I was.” You admitted, giving up since you knew that Iwaizumi was probably more stubborn than you.

“Y/N, you have to stop.” Iwaizumi tears his eyes from your phone for a second to emphasize his words. A look of concern along with something unreadable flashing through his eyes. “What’s the point of not communicating with him if you’re still gonna look at his profile every night.”

“Not every night.” You grumbled.

Iwaizumi scoffed and continued to scroll through your phone. Some part of him was also curious about Oikawa’s current life, and while he got updates from the setter through the calls, he hasn’t really seen his best friend’s profile in a while. “When’s the last time you checked—“

Iwaizumi stops himself as his eyes land on Oikawa’s most recent post and the caption attached to it.

‘Guess who I bumped into today’

When Oikawa Tooru left for Argentina, he had already accepted that it would be a fresh start. No one knew him there, and no one he knew was there. There were no expectations, and there was no image to uphold. And while that thought made him ecstatic beyond words, there’s always that melancholic undertone to the situation as he realizes that he’s completely alone. Sure, he had friends that he could play volleyball with, but Oikawa’s connection with them wasn’t as deep as the ones he formed in his own country. He chalked it up to his subpar Spanish-speaking skills. Perhaps the heavens knew that Oikawa Tooru, born with a silver-tongue and the face and body of a god, would be unstoppable if he knew how to speak Spanish fluently.

Which is why he was so shocked to see a familiar face holding a tray of food and asking if she could sit with him. The place was empty and the girl could literally sit anywhere, but Oikawa paid it no mind. All he knew was that before him was a reminder of home. Not home home, but Miyagi kind of home.

He never truly felt at home since her, but he didn’t want to dwell on that.

“So Yuki-chan,” Oikawa starts as he notes how the girl in front of him has changed since high school, “What brings you to Argentina?”

“School.” Yuki replies, an eager grin on her face as she looks at the man in front of her. “I needed a change of scenery.”

“Why Argentina?” Oikawa raises a brow. It was a harmless question on his end. He never really liked small talk, but he didn’t really have a choice. The woman across from him was practically a stranger. That’s what it felt like, at least.

Red floods Yuki’s cheeks and Oikawa realizes the implication.

His heart stops, and he wishes he had never asked. He didn’t need this. He didn’t want this. He genuinely hoped he was wrong, but the fidgety way Yuki moved and the way she bit down on her lip out of habit was enough to answer his question. Oikawa was familiar with that look. It was a look he had always put an effort to bring about when they were still together. 

Yuki smiles, practically wearing her heart on her sleeve as she answers the setter. “Because you’re here.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Oikawa Tooru’s life was in Argentina, and you decided that maybe it was time to start accepting that. He had the path all ready for him, and all he had to do was walk through it. He’s earning decent money, living in a decent apartment, doing what he loves most—probably in more ways than one, you thought bitterly as you remembered the post Iwaizumi had shown you earlier in the cafe—and it’s all just working out for him. 

So yes, maybe it was time to move on. It would be easy. If loving Oikawa Tooru was a dream, then so be it. Dreams were fleeting. Dreams were insignificant. All you needed to do was treat the memory of him the way you should be treating it. An unreachable reality. A product of the subconscious.

And with his absence, it has never been easier.

If only.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

“Hajime.”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat to speak, mildly unsettled by your choice to call him by his name. You guys were walking down a dimly-lit alley, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that would be the last alley he ever sees considering the tone you used. “Yes?”

“I guess I have to wake up now, huh?”

Iwaizumi is baffled. Confused. Discombobulated. Genuinely wondering what you meant because maybe the heartbreak finally drove you insane. “The fuck?”

“Damn I was trying to be poetic too.” You gave an exaggerated sigh, a small amused smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Way to kill the mood.”

“Do I look like I care?” Iwaizumi’s eye twitched.

“You’ll never get girls to like you if you’re so harsh, Iwa-chan~” You teased, attempting to lighten the mood. “It’s a miracle that Fuyumi-chan still likes you.”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t need other girls to like him. He didn’t need Sato Fuyumi’s one-sided affection. This. This moment was enough.

Years pass and you find yourself in the locker room of Japan’s Olympic Volleyball Team, supporting their trainer the way bridesmaids support the bride on her wedding day. You knew how much the match meant to Iwaizumi, and you knew that win or lose, he’d still be happy with whatever happens. However, Iwaizumi still has a competitive streak, and you knew that hell would have to freeze over before Iwaizumi Hajime stopped chasing victory.

“You nervous?” You asked, eyes trailing after Iwaizumi’s pacing form. His eyebrows were pinched together, and his lips were pulled into a straight line. “The match is in 30 minutes.”

“Don’t remind me.” Iwaizumi groans as he plops down on the bench beside you. 

“They’ll be fine.” You smiled. “You’ve trained them well, and they’ve been giving their all.”

“What if we lose?” Iwaizumi asks, uncertainty lacing his voice.

You scoffed. “You’re probably used to it considering your old rivalry with Ushijima-san-“

Iwaizumi punches your arm.

“Hey that hurt!” You glared at the trainer while you attempted to soothe the point of impact.

“Good, it was meant to.” Iwaizumi smirks before it fades into a soft smile. A distant look glazes over his eyes before he continues speaking. “He’ll be there, you know.”

I fancied you’d return the way you said

“I know.” You shrugged. After so many years, the pain had become a dull ache. It may have been dull, but it was an ache nonetheless. “He did promise.”

Silence fills the room.

“Are you ready to face him?” Iwaizumi turns to look at you, attempting to gauge your reaction only to be met with a blank expression painted onto your face.

“Honestly,” You almost scoff as you start your lie with that word, “I think I’ll be better off not seeing him.”

Silence takes over.

You didn’t want to admit that you never truly moved on. You didn’t want to admit that all those years apart only made you better at hiding how devastated you were. While it’s true that the pain has dulled out, it seemed to be chronic. It’s manageable most of the time, but there are days where it flares up when you’re alone in your room and no one’s there to call you stupid for holding on. It always hits you as hard as it did in the past, sometimes it gets even worse. You were afraid that saying it out loud would solidify itself into your waking reality, not that it hasn’t, but you’d take whatever chance of denial you could get.

Loving Oikawa Tooru was no dream. It was a nightmare on repeat and you showed no signs of waking up.

The nightmare just got worse the moment he stepped onto the court and on your hopes of ever moving on. It grew out of control when he stepped off, victory smiling down on his figure, and his eyes were set on you. 

So you did what you deemed to be the best course of action.

You ran away.

Kind of stupid now that you think about it, considering that your were quite literally running away from an Olympic athlete.

But I grow old and I forget your name

“Oikawa-san.” You bowed slightly before straightening up. You didn’t have a choice other than to act civil considering that the athlete cornered you in the corner of an empty hallway. “Congratulations on your victory.”

When you look up at Oikawa, you’re shocked to see the pain written on his face. His lips were parted, eyebrows were furrowed, and there was a glassy sheen glazing over his eyes. “Oikawa-san?”

Hearing his voice almost made you want to burst into tears, but you didn’t fold, choosing to clench your fists and grit your teeth in hopes that you’ll be able to keep your composure. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Oikawa’s mouth falls open fully, and unlike you, he’s not putting any effort into masking any emotion. He looked like he didn’t know what to say. It seemed that he wasn’t expecting the situation before him. “I’m sorry.”

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes. You avert your gaze from his, turning it to the floor and hoping that he wouldn’t be able to see the tears that began to form. For a second, it felt like you were reliving your third year in high school. “You kept your promise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Oikawa reaches out towards you. “I’m sorry for leaving-”

“Don’t.” You hissed as you moved away, the last shreds of civility escaping your body. “If you didn’t leave you wouldn’t be here today, so don’t.”

“It was hard without you.” Oikawa sounds defeated as speaks. If he had a goal in mind when he cornered you, it seemed that the said goal was now out of reach. The flame in his eyes when he approached you was slowly dwindling. “Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve listened to you and made it work-”

You could feel your head starting to pound. “Oikawa, don’t-”

Oikawa continues speaking, fim, determined. “Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if I still had you by my side even if you were halfway across the world-”

You could feel your throat constricting as the tears began to fall from your eyes.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if I had asked you to come with me-”

Yuki’s face flashes through your mind, and you break. “Can you just stop?!”

Oikawa looked like he expected that from you because he was unfazed at your tone. “I’ve been away from you for almost seven years, and every night was hell.”

“Every night was hell, as if.” You hissed through your tears, stepping away from Oikawa as you gave him the darkest glare you could muster. “You had Fujimoto at your side. You didn’t need me.”

For some reason, instead of the guilt that you were looking to find, you saw a rekindled flame slowly starting to blaze through his eyes. “I only met Fujimoto once.”

“I’m not your girlfriend. I don’t need your explanation.” You replied sharply as you turned your gaze to his shoes. 

You don’t pull away when Oikawa pulls you to his chest to surround you with his embrace. You allowed yourself to enjoy this moment, just this one moment before you decided that it was time to let go.

You grip at his shirt as you speak, lip trembling, fingers shaking. “Just… I’m trying to move on, and you’re just making it harder for me.”

“What if I don't want you to move on?” Oikawa tightens his grip as he feels you attempt to pull away. 

“Then you’re a selfish asshole.” You managed to hiss out, continuing to struggle in his hold. You knew that the longer you were in his arms, the less you would be willing to put up a fight.

“I love you.” Oikawa whispers, and all the fight within you dies. 

“Don’t.” You choke out as your vision turns blurry from tears. “You don’t mean that.”

“I mean it. God, if it means that I have to tell you everyday, every hour, every minute just to convince you I will.” Oikawa is firm as he pulls away and looks you straight in the eyes. “I love you. I didn’t say it enough back then. Looking back, I never really did enough to let you know just how much I loved you. I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but please--”

Oikawa stops to close his eyes, taking a deep breath as he attempts to calm his racing heart, hands trembling as he holds you by the curve of your biceps. “Please, give me another chance.”

Silence engulfs the two of you. 

You can feel the blood rushing to your head, throbbing, pulsing as you take in the words that had left Oikawa’s lips. Your throat goes dry, your limbs feel weightless, and for once in your life, you don’t know what to do. You didn’t have the guts to push Oikawa Tooru away. You loved him too much to ever truly get over him, and here he was presenting you a reason to not move on from his unyielding presence--even if he was physically absent--that had such a great influence over your life. On the other hand, you’ve had to endure years of heartbreak caused by his departure, and you weren’t sure if you could handle any more. It would be too difficult. 

But you didn’t really give a shit anymore.

Oikawa's eyes blow wide open as your lips meet his. In that moment, he felt everything and nothing all at once. The world around him fades, and all he can focus on is the warmth of your hands that bleeds into his cheeks, the movement of your lips against his, and the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers as he kisses you back desperately.

When you pull away to catch your breath, Oikawa gives you a second before he presses you to the wall, wraps one arm around your waist, and rests his weight on one palm beside your head. He kisses you once more, desperation, regret, apology, and the promise of a better future bleeding through his kisses as he pulls you closer to his body, chest to chest, with only bone, muscle, and cloth to separate the hearts that--in the beginning of days--may have once belonged to the same body.

The waves calm and Oikawa speaks. He doesn’t ask--no--he says it with his whole chest, unwavering as conviction settles itself into his dark eyes.

“Come to Argentina with me.”

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;

At least when spring comes back they roar again.

Iwaizumi is leaning against the wall, smiling sadly to himself as he begins to stand up straight, preparing to walk away, whether it was from the venue or from the reason there’s a slight pang in his chest, he didn’t know. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and a familiar name is shown along with a message that he deemed was the sender’s attempt to comfort him on his team’s loss.

Sato Fuyumi

I watched the game [5:31 PM]

You guys fought well so don’t be too down in the dumps, okay? [5:32 PM]

Iwaizumi smiles a little as he pockets the phone. Sato was right, they fought well, he fought well. Two years in middle school, three years in high school, and nearly seven years after, all he did was fight and hold on. 

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead

For a second, Iwaizumi closes his eyes and through them he sees flashes of countless memories: locks of hair, teary eyes, and the saddest face that looked a little out of place for someone who gave him a reason to smile.

Iwaizumi almost didn’t want to open his eyes. Maybe if he shut them a little longer then the images of an impossible future would become the reality of his waking world, but he knew it would never play out like that. Deep in his mind, in the darker corners of his head that was covered by layers of denial, the distant memory of a dimly-lit alley plays in his head. Iwaizumi scoffs as he realizes that he wasn’t the only one who still had their eyes shut.

(I think I made you up inside my head)

A lifeless chuckle escapes Iwaizumi’s lips as he tries to shut his eyes tighter, pain and frustration pooling underneath his lids. The realization hits him, and he resists the urge to cry because he had seen this happening before it even did, but he was too stubborn to admit it, too caught up in a dream that he’d eventually be violently ripped awake from.

Oikawa Tooru defeated him twice that day. 

And the second loss was more painful.

Iwaizumi sighs before he stands up and goes to your side. He plops behind you, pulling you in between his legs before he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’m gonna miss this.”

You smile at his touch, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that he emits before his words sink. “You’re talking as if I’m gonna be leaving.”

You giggle lightly before you turn around and wrap your arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, pressing your forehead onto his. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

Iwaizumi looks conflicted as he stares into your eyes, his grip on your waist getting tighter with each passing second. You can see his eyes swirl with a million different things, and it scares you. What was it that had him acting like this?

“Hajime—“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a kiss.

It’s desperate. The way his lips move against yours, searching for something, longing for something. His lips were soft against yours, but the emotions you could feel swirling inside him made his movements hasty and thoughtless. It was like he was trying to forget something, erasing whatever it was that ate him up on the inside as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe before he’s hoisting you up and dropping you on his bed, hovering on top of you as he gazes into your eyes.

His eyes were teary, and this prompts you to speak. “Hajime what’s wrong?”

Iwaizumi drops to your side on the bed before he pulls you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?” The serious tone laced in Iwaizumi’s words makes your heart beat quicker, the fear of something—you didn’t know what exactly made you feel afraid at that moment—settling itself deep into your chest. “Hajime, what’s going on?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me.” Iwaizumi whispers, his arms wrapping tighter around you as if he was afraid that you were going to disappear. “Please.”

“I promise.” You grab Iwaizumi’s cheeks with your hand before you press a quick peck on his lips. “Now tell me what’s going on. You seem so stressed lately, and it’s kind of making me worried.”

“I’m…” Iwaizumi’s voice is strained as if the words stuck in his throat were laced with thorns that wound him as he struggles to let it out. “I’m gonna study Sports Sciences.”

You giggle lightly. “Why are you worried? You’re gonna do great—“

“In California.” Iwaizumi whispers, but you hear it nonetheless.

It doesn’t sink in. You don’t want it to. As the anchors of that statement plunge deeper into the ocean of your system, the currents that try to keep you alive raise themselves to fight against the weight of the anchors. It’s futile, the waves of emotions, thoughts rage until they’re slowly drowning you in the uncertainty of your future. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” Iwaizumi sits up, which in turn makes you sit up as well. “No. I’m just… I don’t want to lose you just because I’m leaving.”

“Then why are you so stressed?” You could feel your eyes well up with relief, but no matter how much you look on the bright side, there’s still that gnawing feeling in your stomach. “You’re not losing me unless you break up with me, idiot.”

“Hey, don’t cry.” Iwaizumi pouts lightly at you, making you laugh at the way he looked. He smiles, his heart swelling as he sees you laugh. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I’m gonna be all the way in California. The timezones won’t match. I’ll be busy on some days. I won’t be here to hug you or kiss you. Which is pretty damn unfortunate cause I really like kissing you—“

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Iwaizumi stops when he hears you call his name while grabbing his cheeks.

“Yes, love?” Iwaizumi responds immediately. It was as if months of being with you had trained him to do so when you called out his full name.

“I love you, and kilometers of land and sea isn’t gonna change that.” You smile before pressing a kiss on his lips. “Stop worrying.”

“Do that again.” Iwaizumi says as he eyes your lips.

“Do what?” You decide to tease him, acting as if you didn’t know that he wanted another kiss.

“Y/N.” He groans as he glares at you playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t.” You have a shit-eating grin on your face.

“Fine, be like that.” Iwaizumi huffs before he pulls you for another kiss.

You can feel him smile against your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

That was 10 months ago. Iwaizumi left in July, making it a total of six months that you haven’t seen him in person. The first month went off without a hitch. Video chats every day, messages shared regardless of the other’s time zone, and other methods of communication were used just so you guys felt like you were still there with each other in person. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that well.

If you were to describe what happened, you would say that you could compare it to a candle. It burns brightly at first before it slowly melts the way and the candle comes crashing down, snuffing out its flame with its own wax. Each month that passed was a step closer to the end that you both desperately tried to ignore.

You laid in your bed, snuggled into your blankets as you tried to seek warmth. The jacket that Iwaizumi gave you that you wore provided no warmth. It may have eased the cold that the rain brought, but it did nothing to ease the winter that stormed within your chest. Despite the bitter cold, you held on. After all, every winter has to end, right?

You frowned as you looked at one of the pictures that Iwaizumi was tagged in. A blonde girl with her arm around his shoulder, and Iwaizumi with a bright smile. The kind of smile he used to wear in pictures with you.

You could feel anger in your veins, jealousy mingling with it as it brought your blood to a light simmer. You were being unreasonable, you knew that, but six months without Iwaizumi was getting to you, and seeing some other girl doing what you desperately wanted to, but not being able to, made an envious feeling grow in your chest. It didn’t help that she wore the jacket you knew all too well: A jacket you gave Iwaizumi before he left for California. Your eyes teared up at the fact.

You shut your phone and your eyes, ready to turn in for the night before the familiar ringtone fills your ears. You wait. You don’t answer immediately. You let the phone ring a bit more. Your irrational side coming out to play as you hoped that maybe Iwaizumi would feel just as cold as you if you answered him later than you usually did.

You pick up.

“Good morning, love.” Iwaizumi’s face pops up on your skin, a bright smile on his face as the beginnings of the morning sun kiss his skin. The background was moving, and the camera was unstable, which meant that Iwaizumi was probably walking to his class somewhere, “I’m sorry for calling at this time. It’s probably late there but I missed— Wait, are you okay? You look like you just cried.”

You saw that Iwaizumi had stopped walking, the background behind him as stagnant as the words stuck in your throat.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi furrows his brows. “Talk to me.”

You begin to speak. “I don’t think—“

The lightning strikes outside, and a bright flash fills your room. You laughed bitterly in your head, perhaps it was a warning from the universe.

You change your approach. “In the hundred different futures you imagined… In the Dateko game…”

You struggle to find your words.

Iwaizumi smiles, but it looks quite forced to you. “The hundred different futures I imagined with you when you cheered for me in the Dateko game?”

“Yeah.” You almost feel guilty as you finalize the words you’re about to say in your head.

“What about those?” Iwaizumi asks, ever the patient and understanding boyfriend he was, but you could see it. The glint in his eyes that he had whenever he wanted to finish something. The look he had in his eyes whenever he just wanted to get things over with like they were some sort of… Inconvenience.

“Did you...” You shift in your bed, second-guessing your words as you sit up and fiddle with the hem of Iwaizumi’s jacket. “Was there a future that went like this?”

“Like this?” Iwaizumi looks confused. “Where I call you in the middle of a street? Not really? That’s too specific, honestly.” He chuckles and your heart sinks.

“No, not that.” You say solemnly. “A future where we don’t work.”

“What?” Iwaizumi looks stunned, and for a second, your heart races at the sight of him looking as he did before… Before he went to California. “What do you mean? Y/N?”

“I just—“

“HAJIME!” You could hear a woman’s voice on the other side. Years of learning English made sure that you understood what she said without a problem “Ready to go?”

Iwaizumi looks away from you as he turns to the source, a smile painting his face. “Of course, just give me a second.”

Your heart sinks in realization.

That’s how he smiled at you in the past.

“I’m gonna go.” You choke out as tears flow down your cheeks. “Have a good day, Iwaizumi-san.”

You shut the phone.

You cry. You didn’t need to hear it fall from Iwaizumi’s lips. You didn’t need to have it confirmed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you knew that he had feelings for that girl, whoever the hell she was. You knew that he probably only kept you because he didn’t want to hurt you. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you anymore. He probably did, it’s just that he found someone who was… There. Someone who wasn’t in a different place. Someone he could hug anytime he wanted to. It’s unfortunate that it wasn’t you, but maybe you should’ve seen it coming.

So you let go, and it was timely. What started underneath the rain, ended under it. The warmth of the first confession was washed away by the droplets, leaving nothing but the cold to soak deep into your system as you sobbed into your bed, hastily pulling the jacket off of your frame.

You make sure that Iwaizumi never gets to contact you. You had left him a message: a cruel “I’m breaking up with you, I’m sorry,” and nothing more. Maybe that would hurt him enough to make him feel less guilty about making moves on the other girl. You knew it was stupid to just leave him like that, but you just wanted it to stop. You hated the feeling of uncertainty. You hated the feeling of not being able to do anything. If you had to hurt yourself in the process of finding your peace of mind, then so be it.

Years pass and you’ve graduated. You’ve moved on. It wasn’t an easy process, but you pulled through. There were moments you just so wanted to desperately call Iwaizumi and crawl back into his arms, apologizing and all, but you stop yourself each time. You cut off all contact with him, you weren’t going to waste that. However, you knew that no matter how moved on you are, some part of you will always love him… And that’s okay. You’re okay. That’s the only thing that mattered.

Currently, you were in a convenience store, grabbing a quick snack before you went to the stadium to watch the volleyball match with Oikawa, who arrived from Argentina a few days back and wanted to meet up. The setter was probably looking for milkbread in one of the aisles, so you took your sweet time in picking a drink and snack because the setter would probably be shocked by the new variety of milkbread choices that popped up while he was still in Argentina.

Your phone buzzes.

Flatass: I’m at the table near the back, slowpoke. Get your ass here.

You roll your eyes with a grin before you text back.

You: You’re just jealous I have more ass than you.

You don’t get a reply. You shrug and pay for your items before you walk to the back of the store to eat with Oikawa.

“Oikawa—“ You stop at the sight.

Instead of Oikawa on the chair, it was Iwaizumi, still as handsome as he was years ago.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi smiles. “Do you mind if I watch with you guys? Oikawa had an extra ticket and who was I to decline—“

“I don’t mind.” You smile, nothing but happiness filling your chest as you reunite with an old friend.

Kiyoko sighs as she pulls her pens out of her bag and arranges them neatly on her desk. “Why did you stay up so late? It’s not like we have a quiz today.”

Your eyes shoot open, a dark look in your eyes as you look at Kiyoko. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” Kiyoko looks at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to make sense of what you’re trying to say. “Did you think we have a quiz today?”

You shot up straight in your seat, feeling slightly betrayed as you thought back to a certain grey-haired setter’s words.

‘I heard that Takahashi-sensei is giving a surprise quiz tomorrow.’

You move back to sleep on your desk, mumbling insults lowly as you shut your eyes. “Sugawara told me that we had a quiz in Math.”

Kiyoko stifled her amusement, not wanting to add insult to your injury. “You actually believed him?”

“Yes.” You answered curtly before proceeding to grumble as you shifted to find a comfortable position. “Evil monster. How could he do that to me?”

“Well-“

Kiyoko is interrupted as her phone buzzes. She grins a little as she looks from the message on her phone to the female hunched over the desk. “Sawamura’s asking if I have notes from Takahashi-sensei’s recent lecture.”

Y/N, despite her sleepy state, makes an effort to play it off coolly. Her eyes remain shut as she mumbles out in reply to Kiyoko. “And?”

“Didn’t you study for math last night?” Kiyoko states as she replies to Daichi’s text with a ‘No, but Y/N has. You can borrow hers.’

You nodded as you tried to calm the racing of your heart. Just hearing Daichi’s name had you feeling all sorts of giddy.

“I told Sawamura he could borrow your notes.” Kiyoko held back a small smile as a plan formulated in her head. One where it would end with her two friends together.

If it was even possible, your heart started racing even faster. Daichi? Early in the morning? You were so happy and nervous at the thought of seeing him that you couldn’t stop your mouth from running. “Oh, he can borrow more than just my notes.”

“Why don’t you just confess?” Kiyoko asks you in a straightforward manner as she opens up her notebook. The girl had known both for three years already, and in those three years, they’ve been doing nothing but dance around their feelings.

At that same moment, someone walks into your classroom. “Kiyoko, where’s Y/N-“

However, neither you nor Kiyoko notices the newcomer, stuck in your little bubble.

You sat up at Kiyoko’s question and went into your rant before you could even worry about who could hear you. “Daichi’s just so perfect? What does someone like me have to offer him? He’s strong, reliable, sporty, smart, and it doesn’t help that he’s really attractive. Sometimes I just wanna go to his mom and say ‘Thank you, ma’am, for giving birth to this god amongst men’. I’m so whipped it’s pathetic!” You huff as you turn to look at Kiyoko. “Like who even gave Sawamura Daichi the right to be this damn fine-“

Your words stop short as you notice the figure standing a few meters behind Kiyoko. “Oh shit. Am I dreaming?”

Daichi stood a few meters away, a blush on his cheeks as he looked to the side and rubbed the back of his neck.

All color drains from your face as the situation hits you like a brick chucked by a world-renowned pitcher. You had just poured your feelings out about your crush and said crush just had to overhear it.

Kiyoko looks at you weirdly before asking. “What’s wrong?”

You’re unable to reply, just staring at Daichi who looked like he didn’t know what to say either.

Kiyoko follows your gaze and turns her head around, and she stiffens in her seat. “Sawamura, you’re here.”

Daichi gulps, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “Yeah.”

Kiyoko stands up without a word and walks out of the classroom, and you can only gape after her.

“Traitor.” You mumble under your breath as you slam your forehead on the desk with a light thud.

A million thoughts are running through your head. Your brain is working faster than it ever did before, and you’re kind of bitter at how it only works this fast now and not when you actually need it to function. What would happen to you? Daichi probably thinks you’re weird now. Anyone would be weirded out at the thought of your mother receiving thanks for birthing you, right? What if Daichi is so disgusted with you and he just goes away? Worse, what if Suga finds out and never lets you hear the end of it? Oh, the constant torment from him would be so bad that you’d never go to school. Your education would be at risk! All this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

You were internally screaming, and it was so loud that you didn’t notice Daichi moving to sit in the spot that Kiyoko was in just a few seconds ago before she betrayed you and left you with Daichi right after you made a fool of yourself. You wanted to run away so badly, but you were just frozen on the spot. You could only clench your fists on your lap and squeeze your eyes tightly and hope that Daichi walks away.

The chair screeches loudly as Daichi pulls the chair he was sitting closer to your desk.

You could feel your heart beating even faster because you could sense how close Daichi was, and damn was he real close. As you clench your fists tighter, you could only wish that the floor beneath you opens up and lets the earth swallow you whole.

Warmth spreads through your wrist as a calloused hand encircles it. “Ease up on the grip, you might hurt yourself.”

You turn your head and look at where Daichi is holding you. You couldn’t even look him in the eye as he unfurls your fingers slowly. You relax your hands but the rest of your body is tense, unable to comprehend the situation. Your eyes grow wide as you watch Daichi gently bring your hand to press on his chest right above where his heart is.

His heart is beating really fast, you noted.

You sat up straight and just stared at Daichi, not knowing what to say or do as he gazes at you intensely.

“Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?” Daichi asks as he stares into your eyes as if he was searching for something.

You could only nod in reply, unable to trust your voice in fear that it may come out shaky. Your mind was blank. You couldn’t think of anything. All coherent thoughts were consumed by Daichi’s presence and the feeling of his hand around your wrist.

“Do you know why?” Daichi asked softly as his thumb gently stroked the back of your hand that was on his chest (MAN WAS THAT MAKING YOU FEEL ALL SORTS OF THINGS).

Once again, you were filterless. Even embarrassment was not enough to sober you up. “You’re afraid of me cause you probably think I’m weird after overhearing the things I said-“

Daichi shuts you up by moving the hand that was your wrist to your forearm and tugging you to him before he gently presses his lips against yours to shut you up.

Your eyes were wide.

Nothing was sinking in.

Except it kind of is sinking in.

His lips were soft against yours, a stark contrast to the feeling of his calloused hand that had moved to cup your cheek. You could only close your eyes, melt into his touch, and wish that this moment never ends. Your heart was beating so fast and your body felt so warm as Daichi continued to move his lips against yours.

Daichi pulls away first, his hand still on the side of your face as he strokes your cheek. “If it helps, I’m considering going to your house and personally thanking your mom for giving birth to you.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you look away from Daichi. Daichi doesn’t let you and grabs your chin lightly to make you look at him.

You were so tempted to faint then and there as Daichi gazes into your eyes warmly, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to speak. “This isn’t exactly how I planned to confess, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Shock. Just pure shock. It was written all over your face. Sure, he kissed you, but there are times where you’re pretty damn dense where you needed things to be spelt out for you in glowing neon letters. Hearing your crush confess to you had you feeling all sorts of happy, nervous, and doubtful.

“Y/N.” The way he said your name made you want to melt into a puddle right there. “I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

“Yes.” You grinned widely as you lunged towards Daichi and wrapped your arms around his neck. You still couldn’t believe it, but you sure as hell weren’t about to let this moment fly by you. If this was a dream, then you can only wish that it would never end.

Daichi smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly but gently, not wanting to let go of you now that he has you in his arms, something he had only dreamt about before overhearing your conversation with Kiyoko.

Deep in your mind, you thanked Sugawara. If he didn’t give you false information that led to you pulling an all-nighter, you wouldn’t have blurted out your feelings like an idiot, and you would have never gained this opportunity with your longtime crush.

It was a Monday, meaning your entire circle of friends would be walking home together because the boys didn’t have volleyball practice. However, it seemed like everyone but you and Iwaizumi had plans after class. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were going to some sort of arcade, Oikawa was going to pick up Takeru, and your two other best friends, Asano and Yamamoto were going to check out the new cafe that opened, and said cafe was conveniently on the direction opposite to your way home.

Which leaves you with Iwaizumi.

You were excited, but you two barely talked, and you didn’t know why it was like that. You guys were fine during the first year, comfortably talking from time to time, hell you were probably Iwaizumi’s number one cheerleader then, but in your second year, things got a little rocky for some reason, and it just got awkward all of a sudden. However, it was probably your fault for shying away from him due to your crush on the ace. Iwaizumi would make the effort to start small conversations with you, and he always seemed confident, but you on the other hand, wouldn’t even dare try to strike up small talk with the strong, reliable ace because you did not want to embarrass yourself in front of him. 

The tension in the air was palpable in the first few seconds that passed after your amazing friends decided to leave you both at the school’s gate. However, Iwaizumi is the first to break the silence.

“Guess I’m the only one walking you home today.” Iwaizumi has a sheepish grin on his face as he rubs the back of his neck. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You just wanted to pounce on him then and there and pepper his face with tiny kisses because, one, you did not mind at all, and two, he looked so cute at that moment that your heart felt like it was gonna combust.

“I don’t mind at all.” You can feel a blush creeping into your cheeks. “But your house is closer though, so technically it’s me who’s walking you home.”

Iwaizumi raises a brow before he ruffles your hair. “As if I’d ever let you walk home alone.”

The blush that was creeping into your cheeks was no longer creeping, it was sprinting through the surface of your skin so quickly that you were sure that the warmth that your face emitted was enough to get you through winter without a heater.

Iwaizumi seems to have realized the fact that his hand was still on your head, and he also seems to have realized what he just said. He immediately retracts his hand away, clearing his throat before he speaks, “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You look at your shoes, the black surface suddenly looking like the most interesting thing on the planet. “But we should go already, it looks like it’s about to rain.”

Iwaizumi turns his gaze to the sky and sees the signs of a storm brewing. “You’re right, let’s go.”

The walk is as awkward as your conversation at the gates of the school. No words were shared, and a heavy layer of tension seemed to rest in the air. However, it didn’t seem like Iwaizumi felt the heaviness in the atmosphere at all. Either that or he’s doing a great job at looking calm and composed.

A few more seconds of silence pass and you can feel the tendrils of recklessness starting to tug at your body, urging you to do and say something stupid. You were pretty fed up with Iwaizumi being so dense that you almost didn’t care about the rejection. You just wanted him to know how much he means to you. Sure, a rejected confession would make things awkward, but both of you were already pretty damn awkward even without the confession. Surely nothing can be worse than this, right?

The words exit your mouth faster than your brain can evaluate them. “Hey Iwaizumi-san, do you not… like me?”

From the corner of your eye, you can see the corner of Iwaizumi’s lips tilt down into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing as he contemplates on what to say. “I do, though. Did Oikawa not tell you?”

“What?” It’s your turn to look confused. “What do you mean?”

“Huh?” Iwaizumi stops walking and turns to look at you. “Isn’t that why you don’t talk to me that often?”

“I’m not following.” You tilt your head in confusion, unable to decipher the words coming out from the ace’s mouth. 

Iwaizumi is gaping at you, a million thoughts seemingly running through his head as he blinks repeatedly. “Did Oikawa not tell you last year that I like you?”

You blink once. Twice. It takes three blinks before you can reply, and the best you can say is, “What?”

Your heart is beating quickly. The words are sinking in, but at the same time, they aren’t. The hopeful part of you says that Iwaizumi liked you, while the part that doesn’t want to get hurt from expectations refuses to believe the words coming out of the ace’s mouth.

Before Iwaizumi can reply, it starts raining.

“Shit, it’s raining.” Iwaizumi clicks his tongue before he shrugs his uniform jacket off and drapes it over your head. “Come on, there’s a convenience store just around the corner.”

Iwaizumi grabs your wrist, and you can only follow him because you were still too stunned to form any coherent thoughts. If you tried to reply now, you feel like the only thing that would come out of your mouth is ‘I love you’, and the world was not yet ready for that.

When you reach the convenience store, there are tiny droplets dripping from Iwaizumi’s hair, making you feel guilty because his jacket shielded you from the droplets of rain that decided to skydive at the worst time.

You’re both seated on one of the benches in the convenience store, thankfully, the one behind the register knew your circle of friends well, and she didn’t mind the fact that you were getting the floor wet.

You hand Iwaizumi his jacket, and he takes it, but instead of wearing it, he wraps it around your shoulders. “It’s cold, you might get sick.”

You frown. “I’m not the one who’s dripping wet from the rain. If anyone here has a chance of getting sick, it’s you. Take your damned jacket before you get sick.”

“Continue scolding me like that and I might just think you like me back.” You see the blush on Iwaizumi’s cheeks before he looks away from you.

“Stop that.” You grip at his jacket to wrap it tighter around your form. You were honestly just confused. Did this dense idiot really not know? And did this dense idiot actually feel the same? 

“Stop what?” Iwaizumi turns to look at you again, worry etched into every inch of his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Stop saying you like me when you don’t.” Your brain has reached the conclusion that maybe Iwaizumi finally realized that you did like him and was now leading you on. Deep in your heart, you knew that Iwaizumi was such a kind person that doing such a thing would never cross his mind, but you were still in denial because how the hell is someone like him, into someone like you? “It’s true that I like you but you don’t have to play with my feelings like that.”

“What?” Iwaizumi’s mouth is gaping open. “Are you saying that you… Do you like me?”

You blink at him in disbelief. A few beats pass and suddenly you’re laughing like a madwoman. You were ready to doubt him again, but the pure shock on his face was too genuine to be questioned. “You are dense! Oh my—“

Your sentence is cut off by your laughter, unable to hold it in. You couldn’t believe it.

Iwaizumi is still confused, but he looks a little embarrassed. There’s a blush on his cheeks, but there’s something in his eyes as he looks at you. A tiny glint of happiness shining in his eyes as he adores the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh.

When you calm down from your laughing, you decide to give Iwaizumi an explanation. “Yes, I do like you, you dense idiot. Probably since our second year? I’m pretty sure you’re the only one in the entire school who isn’t aware.”

There’s a blush on Iwaizumi’s cheeks as he searches your face for any sign of deception, but he finds none. The embarrassed look on his face is immediately replaced with a confident smirk as he brings his face closer to yours.

Instinctively you scoot back, but Iwaizumi’s reflexes are quick so one of his hands is immediately behind your neck to keep you where you are. “Bold of you to call me a dense idiot when I’ve been in love with you for three years and you never even noticed.”

It’s your turn to be embarrassed, your cheeks warming as you attempt to look down to avoid Iwaizumi’s intense gaze. 

“Oh no, you’re gonna look at me while I confess.” Iwaizumi teases as he removes his hand from your neck to tilt your chin upward. “I really like you, Y/N. Your smile, your eyes, the way you laugh… Just everything about you. You’re just so… Amazing.”

You can’t reply, too touched and overwhelmed to form any words.

“It sounds stupid, but I’m pretty sure I’ve imagined a hundred different futures with you the moment you cheered for me in that one Dateko game where I kept getting blocked.” Iwaizumi whispers, gazing into your soul in hopes that the other feelings he couldn’t put into words would be conveyed through his eyes. “You probably don’t remember, but that day, I realized that I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“I got pretty bummed out when you got distant in our second year, I thought you disliked me so I kept our conversations short just so I don’t inconvenience you.” Iwaizumi grows as he recalls the moment you guys got awkward before it’s replaced with a smile as he speaks. “What a surprise that you like me too, huh?” 

Iwaizumi chuckles lightly before he gently brushes a stray strand of hair from your forehead, and the feeling of the tip of his calloused fingers grazing your skin was enough to send your heart into a frenzy. “Can I…”

“Can you what?” You whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment by making your voice too loud.

“Can I kiss you?” Iwaizumi looks into your eyes, waiting for permission. Waiting for a sign, a word.

You don’t reply, instead, you grab him by his tie and tenderly press your lips against his. Your heart feels like it’s about to escape the confines of your chest as you move your lips against Iwaizumi’s. Years of chasing after Iwaizumi finally concluded, and damn did it conclude pretty damn well.

You’re the first to pull away. Leaning away as you looked to the side to hide the blush on your face.

There’s a stupid grin on Iwaizumi’s face, his wide eyes accompanied by a bright smile as he breathes deeply. “Shit, I’m in love.”

Your face practically bursts into flames at how happy Iwaizumi looked at that moment, but you compose yourself and muster a quick reply. “I mean, this situation would be pretty awkward if you aren’t.”

Iwaizumi raises a brow as he smirks teasingly—boy did that simple action do things to your heart—before he grabs your wrist, making you faceplant right into his sturdy chest. He proceeds to cup your cheeks with his hands, pressing his forehead on yours. “I’m not gonna ask you to be my girlfriend yet.”

You can feel your heart drop a bit as you look into Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“I’m gonna give you the first date that you deserve then I’ll ask you.” Iwaizumi grins as the worry on your face is replaced by a small pout. “I hope you say yes.”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You answer a little too quickly, which makes Iwaizumi chuckle before squishing your cheeks.

“I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet.” Iwaizumi reasons out, continuing to absentmindedly squish your cheeks with his large hands.

“If you’re not asking me then I’m asking you.” You grin teasingly. “I’ve been pretty whipped for a long time now and I’m not about to let this opportunity slip.”

Your heart leaps into somersaults at the sound of Iwaizumi’s laughter. 

“Fine, you win.” Iwaizumi pinches your cheek. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You nod enthusiastically.

Iwaizumi smiles before he places a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in for another kiss. His other hand pulls you by your waist to bring you closer to him, and when you’re close enough, the hand on your neck moves your waist as well. Iwaizumi continues to kiss you, gently, sweetly, too afraid to hurt you in any way even if it was unintentional.

That day, you tell yourself, was probably the best day of your life. The rain added to the beauty of that moment because it gave you an excuse to snuggle into Iwaizumi’s side as he pressed small kisses on the side of your head from time to time.