she/her. 9teen.

Her and Akaashi had talked, a lengthy conversation that Iwaizumi was not a part of, and decided it would be better if she moved out, lived with Yukie for a bit, got away from him. They don’t know if they’re going to stay friends. Iwaizumi can’t decide how he feels about this, if her eagerness to step away from him is a good sign, or if her inability to be near Akaashi is something that should make him worried. 

He decides not to think about it too much. 

“Thanks for helping me move,” she says to him, breaking the soft silence that settled between them. She stacks a few hardcover books into a box, and Iwaizumi knows he’ll end up carrying it. “I really appreciate it.” 

“”S no problem,” Iwaizumi replies, his eyes watching her hands. “Oikawa’s been wanting to go furniture shopping, so it’s a good excuse to say no. And, y’know, I just wanna help you.” 

She smiles, eyes briefly flashing up to him. “Yeah, I know you do.” 

He was needy, for a while. It was probably too much for her to put up with, but she put up with it. The texts he sent late at night, asking if she was sure about him. The cloying way he would grab at her, holding her close to his side like someone was coming to take her away from him. Constantly asking her to repeat herself, to tell him she loves him, and really, truly means it. 

But she put up with it. She watched the way insecurity would wash over him, tensing him, making him recoil, and she would take his hand, rubbing circles into his palm until he eased. She returned every text, fell into every embrace, told him repeatedly and eagerly that yes, she does love him, and yes, she means it. 

And even still, he doubts her.

She stands, and she interlocks her fingers above her head and leans back to stretch. Iwaizumi watches as the bottom of her shirt lifts to reveal her midriff. “I’m gonna go bring some of these out to the car. I need to stretch my legs.” 

“Save the heavy boxes for me,” Iwaizumi remarks, and she bends down to pick up one, filled with posters and picture frames. 

She smiles. “You know I will,” she tells him, and takes carefully placed steps out of her bedroom, heading for his car that’s parked on the street. 

And then Iwaizumi’s there, alone, sitting on the floor of her bedroom. He looks around. It’s bare now, free of photos of her and her friends, free of posters of bands she likes and shows she’s been too, free of her. It was like this the first time Iwaizumi was there, too. 

She had just moved in, when Iwaizumi first met her, and hadn’t left her mark on the walls yet. When he had kissed her then, for the first time, he thought he had never tasted anything like her. Maybe it was then, that first night, when Iwaizumi knew she was it for him. 

Iwaizumi stands. The wooden floorboards creak when he moves. Iwaizumi loves her, he’s always loved her, and he starts to wonder, surrounded by her packed up belongings, when it will be enough for him. 

It wasn’t enough to spend almost every weekend taking up space in her bed, leaving trails of kisses down her neck. It wasn’t enough to be the one that she called when she needed someone. It wasn’t enough to have her stay with him. And it’s not enough now, even with her constant proclamations of love, to ease the ache in his chest, to quell his desire for more.

He looks down at the boxes beneath him. Things are changing for her, now. And now that his thoughts are in a downwards spiral, he asks himself if they’re going to change with him, too. If it won’t be enough for her, if things will have to change, if she’ll disappear again. There’s this knot of dread that settles in the bottom of his stomach, and he thinks about it again. Her leaving him, what it would look like, how it would break him.

“Haji.” 

He turns. He sees her standing in the doorway for just a second before she approaches him, taking long strides until her arms are around his waist and her head is resting on his shoulder. His arms go around her automatically, hand splaying across the center of her back. 

She’s warm in his arms, and it makes his heartbeat slow down, feel at ease. “I love you,” she says into his chest, unprompted, just because she wanted to. 

His thumb draws circles on top of her back, and Iwaizumi figures that it’s enough. Whatever they have, it’s enough for now. 

an: special thank you to @nekozaki this is 100% dedicated to u ellie because when i say you inspired me and motivated me to actually finish this fic i mean it and i already rambled to you about it i just feel the need to say thank you again and ily <3

also i’m lowkey pretty sad to be finishing full but like i said it’s time for yn and iwa to rest and i had so much fun writing this series :,) thank you all for reading

Kuroo stirs only a little when she lifts her phone to her hear. It’s already ringing. A crowd of people have spilled out of the bar and are lingering on the sidewalk, and their chatter distracts her. She hums under her breath.

He answers. “Why are you calling me?” 

She flinches at the sound of his voice. “Akaashi?” she questions, surprised that it’s him. “Fuck, I meant to call Bokuto.” 

“Well, you called me, so,” he says, and his voice is just a bit fuzzy over the phone. It doesn’t sound as contemptuous as it usually does. There’s not as much bite. “Are you drunk?” he asks. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she brushes off. “Y’know what, ‘Kasshi” she says, the drunken slur in her voice cutting off his name, “I actually have a question for you.” 

There’s a pause on the other line. “What?” he asks, voice low. 

She inhales, and exhales again. “Whatever I did to you that I don’t remember, was it really that bad?” 

For a while, Akaashi says nothing. And she sits with bated breath on the other line, nervously waiting for his answer. When it comes, she’s disappointed. “I’ll see you on Friday,” Akaashi says, and then the line goes dead. 

She sighs, and drops her phone to her lap. “Who was that?” Kuroo mumbles, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells him, staring off into the street, waiting for the cab to bring them home.

extras->

"lately i've been thinking i've been overreacting" = "i can't rationalize what i did and i think it might've been an overreaction"

yn and kuroo took a cab back to her apartment and she made him a bed on the couch while kuroo ate all of matsukawa's chips

yn rolled out of bed with and hardly even brushed her hair and then left to make it to her class

things are changing !!!

akaashi is sort of grasping at straws to try and cling onto his hatred for yn and not let it be overshadowed by guilt and he's sort of hoping that telling bokuto about it will reignite it

his hatred of her is comforting to him and it eases a lot of his uncomfortable feelings about what she did to him

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