#daichirarepairweek

Over the years, his soulmate wrote to him constantly. It was slow, at first… simple phrases, in that same neat, crisp handwriting. Then it switched to a wobbly, heavy-handed, messy scrawl in various colors of marker. He also saw smudges of colorful crayon on his fingers, even when he wasn’t coloring that day. Asahi wasn’t very good at his characters yet, so he held off… he was embarrassed. Still, the tangential connection to his soulmate gave him comfort in hard times. When Yuki moved away, when his mom sold the family home and moved them from Kyoto to Miyagi, and when his grandmother passed during a family reunion in Hokkaido… his soulmate had been there.

Although Asahi had never responded. Every time he even considered pressing pen to skin to write back, or just draw a simple doodle to show that he was there, he thought better of it. Some dumb part of him thought his soulmate didn’t want to hear from him, and when his hands and arms were covered in his soulmate’s scrawl, he felt bad for having nothing to say.

Next time… next time, he told himself over and over again.

Next time ended up being in Junior High, when interest in soulmates really started to peak. The few girls in his class who would talk to him fawned over the lines and lines and messy writing all over his arms and hands. They were interspersed with little drawings, and Asahi felt a twinge of affection. The more his soulmate wrote to him, the more he learned. And the more he learned about this person who loved volleyball and rock music and art and video games, the more he started to love them.

So it was disconcerting to say the least when his soulmate went silent. Utterly and terrifyingly silent. After years of constant communication--of learning about them, watching their doodles and drawings come to life on the backs of his hands, and seeing the lists they made for themselves on their arms--for the first time, there was nothing. No writing, no lists. He was afraid for a moment, because he’d heard of this phenomenon--of soulmates dying and severing all connection instantly. But that fear abated as the day went on--his soulmate still smeared ink on their fingers and got pencil residue on the outside of their hand. But other than that, nothing.

He wondered what had changed.

After four days of silence, Asahi started to worry that maybe he’d offended his soulmate somehow, or that they realized who he was somehow and didn’t want to be with him. It was his worst fear come true, and he spent the better part of his morning practice and classes agonizing over it, but sometime after lunch, writing appeared again.

It wasn’t a list, or a greeting like normal. It was a strange squiggle on the inside of his left wrist. Asahi cocked his head at it, squinting, trying to figure out what exactly it was. His soulmate was usually so forthcoming… what were they trying to do?

The squiggle suddenly bolded, like someone had traced over it with frustrated strokes. Asahi paled--it wasn’t a squiggle… it was a heart. Well, half of a heart. His soulmate’s impatience was almost palpable, and it was like a signal. Now was the time. He was finally ready to respond… and his soulmate had been so kind as to give him a starting point.

Asahi picked up his blue pen, and with shaking hands, completed the heart.

~~~

Daichi had learned about soulmates early from a girl in his kindergarten. Apparently, her soulmate got crayon all over his hands every day, and he could even write some words. According to her, they were going to get married someday. Daichi had joined in with the other boys in gently rejecting the idea--girls were gross, kissing was grosser--but something about it intrigued him. Someone he was meant to be with? He’d slept on it, but decided the next morning, he was going to do what he did best--he was going to act.

His mother had written the neat, simple note on his arm as he fought the urge to bounce in place. When she capped her marker, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

As he grew visibly dejected, his mother took him in a comforting embrace; “It’s ok, little man. Maybe they can’t write yet… or they might not be born yet. You’re young; you never know.”

Daichi smiled, trying to reassure his mother, asking her if they could write a new message the next day. Looking back, it had been a silly request, but his mother had given him a fond laugh and a shake of her head before agreeing. So she wrote another greeting on his arm the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

And every day after that until Daichi learned to write himself. He’d worked extra hard, because maybe his soulmate didn’t want to talk to his mom… maybe they only wanted to talk to him. That made him excited. So when he could finally write a greeting in a bright green marker, he waited. But as always, his soulmate was frustratingly silent.

He didn’t give up. First, he tried different colors, because maybe his soulmate didn’t like the colors he was choosing. Then, as he learned new words, instead of greetings, he wrote questions, because what if they wanted to talk about themselves? Then, he figured his soulmate didn’t want to talk to someone they didn’t know, so he started talking about himself. Then, he figured what if they couldn’t read Japanese? What if they were American or European (how cool would that be!?) and they saw nonsense on their arms every day. So he switched to pictures--he liked drawing pictures anyway. He continued to write, too… just in case.

He wrote everything on his arms. It became a habit, from phone numbers to important dates to reminders to a random thought that occurred to him during his grade 5 literature class. When he got interested in volleyball, he talked about that too. Maybe his soulmate liked volleyball. Maybe they wanted to talk about that? Surely, someday they wanted to talk about something, right?

The winter he turned fourteen, two possibilities came to mind, both equally unpleasant. The first was that maybe his soulmate hated him. Maybe they took a look at this actual crazy person filling their arms with nonsense about his hopes and dreams, wanting desperately to know the person on the other end, and was sickened by the very thought. He tried to dismiss that notion--it was his soulmate… they belonged together--but the doubt clung to him and left him feeling sick inside. He’d heard of couples--soulmates--who couldn’t stand each other.

The other possibility--the one his mother seemed to be leaning on, even if she wouldn’t say anything--was that he didn’t have a soulmate at all. The thought made him feel worse than sick...it made him want to curl in on himself and cry. He shed more tears than any fourteen-year-old boy would likely admit over something as silly as not having a soulmate. He ran his hand adoringly over his heartbreakingly-blank forearm. He just needed a sign… anything. Just to know his soulmate was there. Just to know that somewhere, there was a person just for him. Someone that would love him for exactly who he was, and wouldn’t call him boring or unremarkable. Choking on his own tears, he picked up his marker.

I wish I knew you were there. I’ve never talked to you, but I need you sometimes. And you don’t answer me. Do you hate me? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me… I can fix it. Please. I love you.

Before he could get to sleep, he’d been completely overcome with anxiety, and washed his message away.

~~~

For four days, Daichi was silent. He avoided writing on his arms or marking himself in any way. He tried to not show it, but he was miserable. For some reason, he had put a lot of stock into his soulmate… so many of his dreams and future plans had revolved around finding them. He knew it was stupid. Even if he did have a soulmate, he wasn’t anything special. Who would want him, anyway?

It was harder than he expected, staying quiet. Even if he was talking to no one, even if they didn’t want to hear him, writing to this person--who may or may not exist--had become a part of his daily routine. He wanted to tell this person everything… because they were a part of him. A perfect match…

It was a lazy afternoon towards the end of junior high. It was unseasonably warm out, and him, Michimiya and Ikejiri were taking their lunch on the roof, their sleeves pushed up. Ikejiri arms were covered in neat, loopy handwriting in a language none of them could really read. Ikejiri told them it was French, and his soulmate lived in Paris. Michimiya was showing off the myriad doodles and drawings all over her arms, sometimes interspersed with small, bold, dark writing. Daichi stared at his bare skin, unmarred. He hadn’t even written to his soulmate in a few days. All he wanted was a sign… anything to show his soulmate was there.

He pulled his ballpoint pen out of his pocket...just one more try. Just one more time. His train of thought is both hopeless and desperate, but he didn’t care. He had to try… he had a feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but he had a feeling that this time would be different. Today, he would know for sure if he had a soulmate or not.

He didn't write anything. He didn’t have the courage to just come out and ask ‘hey, do you exist and if so, why have you been ignoring me?’ Instead, he just drew half a heart on the inside of his wrist. His hand shook the whole time, and he thought how fitting it was that he was staring at an incomplete part while praying for his other half to finish it. There was probably a poetic metaphor there, but he chose not to unpack it, and instead waited.

And waited.

He bolded the outline of the half-heart, careful not to dig into his skin. Enough time passed that whatever hope he’d had started to dwindle. No one was there. He tried to remain positive, perhaps take it with his normal maturity, but he couldn’t. All this time, he’d been writing to no one…

Suddenly, before his very eyes, the heart on his wrist completed itself with blue ink. Daichi stared dumbfounded as he saw writing he hadn’t made appear on his wrist. He had to respond! He had to… do something! He had to--

Without warning, tears began streaming down his face, landing on his forearm. One landed on the small heart, smearing the ink of the half he’d written, but not his soulmate’s. His soulmate’s! He couldn’t even respond when Michimiya turned to him with concerned eyes; all he could do was hold out his arm and point to the untouched blue ink on his wrist.

“Sawamura!” Michimiya exclaimed. “They’re--”

“They’re real!” Daichi gasped, trying to take a proper breath. He was starting to feel dizzy.

“No, Sawamura, they’re writing back!”

Daichi stared down at his arm and, sure enough, angular writing started to appear. It was slow, almost like his soulmate was tentative, or shy.

Hey, you ok?

Daichi couldn’t even be mad. He wanted to be angry, ask why he spent his whole life wanting and waiting and wondering because of this person, but he couldn’t find the conviction. He was too busy being happy that they were real and writing to him! He fumbled for his pen, his hand shaking as he wrote his response.

You’re real!

His soulmate paused for a moment, and for a second, Daichi was nervous he’d scared them off, or made them feel bad. He wanted to reassure them--everything was going to be alright, he wasn’t mad, he just wanted to talk to them. To get to know them.

I’m so sorry I did that to you. That was selfish of me. If I could do it again, I’d have written back when I was 4.

Daichi chuckled--so he and his soulmate were the same age then--and quickly wrote back.

It’s fine! I was just worried that you didn’t exist but you’re real! I’m so happy I can’t even be upset! I just want to know everything about you.

Ha! No pressure or anything! Well, there’s not much to know about me.

You could start with your name?

Azumane. Azumane Asahi.

~~~

They’d just finished their first practice as high schoolers. Sugawara was a scream, and his arms were covered in crude anime doodles and long lines of loopy, thin handwriting. But the one Daichi was interested in was Asahi--tall, shy, and baby-faced, he’d messed up his greeting so badly Sugawara was convinced he was a foreigner. But Daichi wasn’t so sure. How many boys his age could realistically be named Azumane Asahi?

But he had to be sure.

He took a pen out of his pocket--since the first day his Asahi started writing to him, he’d never been far from one--and chose a blank spot on his forearm, one he knew Asahi could see.

Hey, on your left.

An eagle and a crow circle each other mid flight. Below the crow lies concrete streets. Above the eagle, the vast skies were bright. That was the design wrapped around his upper arm.

 As a child, Daichi feared what his soulmate would be like. Why did the two birds seem to be fighting? He didn’t know. His mother had told him the markings represent aspects of their personalities and the things that represent their lives. Perhaps not now, but later on in the future. Daichi would spend many nights staring at the marking, slightly in awe and with a hint of fear at the prospects of what it meant. As he grew older, his understanding of the mark changed. No longer did the birds look ready for battle, instead, it seemed as if they were assessing one another. It was no longer hostility, instead it was curiosity.

 As a child, other kids would look at his soul mark with awe or glee. Some would say it was graceful and cool, others would agree that it was rather intimidating. None the less, they would all excitedly chatter about future meetings with their own soulmates and how they predicted them to be based of of their soul marks. As he grew older, the looks would become slightly pitying. They lived in an era were it had become increasingly facile to find your soulmate after all. Many would take photos of their marks in order to post online with the hopes of finding their other half. Daichi had done it once, but he never had no such luck as some of the others he had met throughout his life. After a while, he realized that there wasn't much point and took the photo down.

 So, Daichi had settled for the old fashioned way of showing off his mark whenever possible and waiting to see who would approach him. Or perhaps await for the day he caught sight of the familiar mark on unfamiliar skin. It was in his favor that the mark was around his bicep, this just made the task much easier. Alternatively, he chose to focus on discovering the aspects that were represented in his marking instead. As shocking as it was to discover, the crow represented his favored team, and by extension, the best three years of his life.

 Suga had thrown many cheerful jokes at him the first time he had discovered his mark involved their school's mascot.

 Daichi had told him to his petals where his mouth is.

 The jokes aside, Daichi was happy with the progress he has made in understanding his mark better.

 The concrete streets below represented stability. It represented his solid will and determination. This is what he believed anyway. It was hard to break through something that made up the foundation of his being. The rest was merely speculation. He was positive that the eagle represented his soulmate, but the skies themselves stood for possibilities and potential. However, Daichi wasn’t sure if it was part of his destiny or his soulmates.

 He had an inkling it was both.

 Once he had entered his third year Daichi felt there was nothing left to analyze in his mark. Finally, all he could do was wait. He was never one who held impatience for these things, but it certainly helped that he was constantly busy. Between his college preparatory classes, practice and his troublesome first years, he had very little time to dedicate towards soul searching.

 He did however, take comfort in knowing that he was not the only one who had a crow representing some aspect of their soul mark. Though, this only lead to Suga taunting him even more and thus began calling him ‘papa crow’.

 Regardless, for the first few months Daichi falls into a steady routine. After class, head towards the club room, stop any potential arguments and change. Practice, treat himself, and occasionally, his team to pork buns, before heading home to eat a proper meal. Then he would study, do some light exercise and shower before turning in for the night. It was a comfortable and relatively pleasant routine. In between everything, there were always surprises that would leave him flabbergasted and would leave him distracted

. But still, he sometimes finds himself laying in bed late at night, before sleep can overcome him, and finds himself longing for his soulmate.

 He then wonders if the other feels the same.

 He can’t help but feel his curiosity peek as he reads the article following the Youth World Championship. His achievements were astounding and the notoriety of his skills were amazing. He couldn't bring himself to focus on those aspects. He does hear the rest of the team talking about the young male’s skills but Daichi finds himself focused on a small box of gossip.

 Ushijima Wakatoshi

Soulmate status: unconfirmed

Despite his refusal to show the public his soul mark; on court glimpses have shown two birds in flight. His team gave no comments on the topic.

 Daichi knows better than to get his hopes up. Birds seem to have become a more common thing as of late. With different birds having various meanings, there’s a high probability that the birds mentioned are completely different from the ones that mark his skin. Even so, for a brief second, he finds himself thinking of the ‘super ace’ and the feeling of longing lessens.

 Daichi notices the rise in volume. He pushes any other thoughts to the back of his head and quickly yells at Tanaka and Nishinoya to finish changing. He lets Hinata know that his shirt is on backwards and shouts at Tanaka to get back inside the club room and put on some pants.

 He can hear Suga snickering in the background.

 Daichi can’t help but stare at Ushijima when they first confront him in front of the building. At first, he’s confronted with a slight intimidation. He’s about to compete against one of Japan’s top players after all. But soon, after the out burst of his most troublesome duo, he’s filled to the brim with determination. He’s well aware that this will not be an easy fight, but he knows it will be worth while.

 Soon the match begins and it is as he expected. They struggle for the first set and has to leave it up to Nishinoya to find his rhythm and set their pace. Daichi himself struggles with his receives for a while, feels as if his arms are constricted. Without much thought, he rolls up his sleeves, too absorbed in the game to notice anything else; too absorbed to notice Ushijima briefly staring at the mark during their time out.

 No one thinks much of it, but while Daichi doesn’t notices Ushijima’s stare, he becomes aware of the flailing and pointing his teammate instead. He doesn’t pay further mind to it thought one he realizes who it is. If there is one thing he’s come to acknowledge, it’s the fact that Tendou Satori is strange.

 Time out is over and he makes back to the court, he shouts quick words of encouragement to his teammates and takes his position.

 The game continues and eventually Daichi finds himself face to face with Ushijima at the net; its their serve and Daichi waits for the rally to begin. However, he’s finally become aware of the gaze that's upon him. He momentarily locks gazes with Ushijima and throws him a curious glance. The other takes note of it and looks away, though his face holds a look of contemplation. Daichi hears the familiar wail of the whistle and decides it’d be best to leave the thought alone. He'll have time to process is later, when he isn't in the middle of a match.

  Once the game is won they exit the building high on victory and disbelief. Excitement surrounds them like a heavy mist. Daichi finds himself lagging behind; his knees are sore and his body feels heavy but he finds himself reveling in the sensation. He feels prideful of his team and of himself. They have all managed to grow so much since the beginning. From the extra practice to the hellish training camps. it makes him happy to know that all their hard work has paid off.

 They're going to Nationals.

 He sees Shiratorizawa exit the building shortly after, the team is sullen and though it is of a different brand, they too exit with faces of disbelief. Daichi is surprised to see Ushijima break away from the group, more so when he heads towards his general direction. Daichi remembers his intense gaze from earlier, he figures he man has something to tell him. He waits politely for the other man to reach him and soon they stand face to face, seeming to size each other up for a moment. Ushijima nods to himself, apparently agreeing with a statement he had quietly thought about. By now, Daichi has become vaguely aware of their respective teams curious gazes.

 Ushijima offers him a bow and Daichi is stunned by the words that follow.

 “My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi and it appears that you are my soulmate”

 Daichi can’t help but gape, his mind buzzes momentarily. Ushijima takes this as a sign to continue. He elegantly takes off his jacket and raises his left sleeve to show Daichi the mark underneath.

 An eagle and a crow circle each other mid flight. Below the crow lies concrete streets. Above the eagle, the vast skies were bright.

 Daichi smiles and returns the gesture, carefully taking off his jacket and showing the matching mark adorning his right arm. Ushijima shares with him a small, but ecstatic, smile.

Kyoutani didn’t beat around the bush and walk on eggshells. It wasn’t his style to begin with, he preferred to being direct and not stressing over every little thing that could go wrong. He cared a lot about his bundling relationship with Sawamura even if it looked like he was all calm and collected. It just happened that he wasn’t fond of awkwardness that radiated off his body the way he was unfamiliar with letting someone so close to him. Dogs were easier; they wagged their tails when they were happy, they told people when they wanted to eat and play. Sometimes Kyoutani was able to understand their language better than humans the way it was more simplistic and direct. Maybe that was why he like Sawamura. The guy was reliable, strong and in some ways very direct like Iwaizumi. He had a personality that wasn’t outright scared of himself and Kyoutani could appreciate the way Karasuno’s captain had the air of a proper leader had. He was sensible and something that he felt like he could live with. It was so unexpected to find Sawamura and later on the day accept this attraction that bloomed after over analyzing his team’s defeat.

He didn’t have to scream to strangers that he was in love. All he had to do was look past the sting of his loss and watch Karasuno’s captain smile at his own teammates and see the truth behind his heart pumping hot blood through his body. That was all the confirmation that he needed to find peace within himself. Sawamura took a little longer to notice the way Kyoutani looked at him but with the help of his own forwardness and a nudge from his friends he accepted this weird but pleasant turn of events. They shared numbers, texted on occasion that Kyoutani loved how their time together became more frequent to his liking. He adored how his cheekiness made Sawamura bite back in fun. There was this effortless game of domination that stringed him; it was relaxing to have an equal by his side that made him feel safe. It was by far one of the best decisions of his life to see how Sawamura become so comfortable around him that it didn’t take long for them to start the next little steps such as holding hands. Even if the act itself was an awkward mess Kyoutani moved along enjoying theses small moments of watching Sawamura over think about proximity or timing.

It was hilarious and sweet how someone strong could be gentle. But after five minutes of hands brushing each other and having miscommunications Kyoutani quickly and very clumsily grabbed Sawamura’s. There was a short pause between them with Kyoutani’s ear tips turning red and noticing Sawamura’s hand being clammy against his. But after the short few seconds of walking alongside each other Kyoutani got used to the heat that was emitted within his palm and fingers. It was a foreign sensation; but very pleasant. Sawamura’s thumb creased his softly and slowly that it took all his willpower to not blush deep red. He masked his awkwardness with a cough but it didn’t escape Sawamura as he chuckled out loud making him crack a smile with him as an idea popped into his head. He didn’t dodge the moment that was being presented and quickly leaped into action and basked in glory of hearing Sawamura’s soft gasp after he kissed his cheek. Still holding his hand, Kyoutani couldn’t help but let his grin widen as Sawamura blush deepen and felt his hand grip tighten for a second.

Yamaguchi popped up on Hajime’s other side, his tail a brilliant gold and red and silver carefully twitching through the water as he mirrored Bokuto’s pose.

“Still no word from him?” Yamaguchi asked softly.  

Hajime shook his head and the mermaids shared a sympathetic glance.

While they didn’t exactly have any plans he wasn’t sure how much longer he and Issei would be able to stay here.  They weren’t made for staying in one place for too long.  Just one of the many reasons their stint in university never really worked out.  Daichi was out there dealing with some of the other reasons it didn’t work and while Hajime didn’t regret not going with Daichi not knowing what had happened or was still happening with him was starting to eat away at Hajime.  He was sure that Daichi was safe, he was too stubborn not to be and he had left with Yahaba and Tanaka and Tsukishima as back up so barring some kind of absolute end of the world apocalypse happening outside the lagoon that none of them knew about… Daichi was safe and sound.

He just should have met up with them here at least three days ago, if not more.  Hajime was getting worried, and so was Issei.

A fish landed in Hajime’s lap with a wet slap and he jerked at the feel, looking down to scold Bokuto only to find that it was Yamaguchi grinning up at him; Bokuto had slipped away to talk with Issei.

“He’ll be back.”

“I know.  He always comes back.”  Hajime tried to push the fish back into the lagoon but Yamaguchi just tossed it back into his lap.

“You need to eat.  Start up a fire and Kou and I will get you a couple more.”

Hajime wasn’t the best cook, none of them were really, but he was good enough that he could manage without turning it into charcoal and before long he and Issei were settling down on the beach with their meal.

“If he’s hurt I’m gonna kill him,” Issei grumbled after he finished eating and collapsed sideways with his head in Hajime’s lap.  Bokuto and Yamaguchi had their heads tilted together as they murmured to each other and watched Hajime and Issei from the water.

Hajime was about to respond when a shadow covered the lagoon and a moment later something hit the water.  Daichi popped to the surface and threw a string of impressively poetic curses at Kyoutani as he flew away into the nearby forest.

Daichi was a bit bruised and scraped but he was alive and Issei was draped across his lap like an overgrown cat and tugging gently at his necklace to get Daichi to bend forward for a kiss.  Hajime leaned against Daichi’s back and watched the stars slowly lighting up the sky high above them.  The water lapped gently at the shore in the background and Daichi’s laugh rumbled through into Hajime’s chest and finally the lagoon felt like the peaceful respite it was supposed to be.

Hajime’s pack vibrated a few feet away and he frowned at it, unwilling to inspect it.  This was their moment of peace.  Their chance to breath in clean air and listen to birds chirp and watch soft waves break upon the shore.  Their slip of a vacation before the world tied knots around them again and yanked them back into the fray.  His pack vibrated again and he felt Daichi’s back stiffen against his own.

He refused.  Not today.

His pack vibrated almost violently this time and Daichi sighed.

“You realize ignoring him will just make it worse in the end, right?”

“Oikawa can go to hell,” Hajime stated calmly.

“Um, babe.  He’s already kind of there.”

Issei finally sat up and peered at Hajime’s pack as it vibrated hard enough to carry it across the sand a few inches.  “Uh who’s Oikawa?”

Daichi twisted and pressed a kiss to Hajime’s temple before rolling over to drag Hajime’s pack closer.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll answer it.”

“One day,” Hajime muttered as he glared at his pack as Daichi dug through it.  “Can we not get just one day of relaxation and walking through the woods and enjoying nature and all that?”

“You kind of hate nature,” Daichi reminded him with a laugh.

“If my choices are dealing with whatever demon shit Oikawa is about to drag us into or dealing with nature I’ll chose nature.”