Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10708911.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Haikyuu!!
  Relationship:
      Iwaizumi_Hajime/Oikawa_Tooru, Kageyama_Tobio/Oikawa_Tooru, Iwaizumi
      Hajime/Kageyama_Tobio, Iwaizumi_Hajime/Kageyama_Tobio/Oikawa_Tooru
  Character:
      Oikawa_Tooru, Iwaizumi_Hajime, Kageyama_Tobio
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Alpha_Iwaizumi_Hajime, Omega_Oikawa_Tooru,
      Omega_Kageyama_Tobio, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Aged-Up
      Character(s), Still_underage_though, Blood_and_Violence, Slow_Burn, like
      the_kageyama_relationship_stuff_is_very_slow_burn, Very_Very_Slow_Burn
  Series:
      Part 1 of HQ_ABO
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-23 Updated: 2017-08-14 Chapters: 9/? Words: 84673
****** Blind Man's Bluff ******
by tiggeryumyum
Summary
     Omegas Oikawa and Kageyama end up forming a reluctant bond after
     surviving a traumatic experience together. Alpha Iwaizumi tries to
     keep up.
Notes
     Mind the tags!!! All rape is in chapter 2 though. Blue language from
     some very rude alphas.
***** Chapter One *****
Oikawa is waiting five more minutes, and then he's going inside.
It's early either way, though, and Oikawa knows it won't be crowded. The Osaka
Auditorium is huge, and even with multiple prefectures hosting their
preliminaries here, he could easily wait until the very last second to stroll
in and still find a good seat, but...
He frowns at his phone, telling himself he's only watching the time, but
truthfully, is hoping for a text.
He knows there's not going to be a text.
~
"Ninety-seven unread messages?! Thirty-eight missed calls??"
"He's got two thousand unread emails…"
"Iwaizumi do you ever use this thing? Or just carry it around??"
Iwaizumi grabs his phone from his shell-shocked teammates, and picks one of
them – of course Oikawa – to smack in retribution.
"Ow, Iwa-chan!!" Oikawa whines, rubbing the back of his head. "I wasn't saying
anything!"
"And I bet my phone just jumped out of the gym bag by itself," Iwaizumi says.
Oikawa laughs as he shrugs, caught.
"Seriously though," Hanamaki says, tone genuinely troubled. "You need to update
your apps. Seriously."
Iwaizumi makes a vaguely affirmative grunt, hoisting his bag up onto his
shoulder. He's not going to be updating his apps.
"No wonder you never respond to any of my messages," Matsukawa says.
"Iwa-chan doesn't even answer messages from his grandmother," Oikawa says, and
the rest of the team stares in disbelief.
Iwaizumi pinches Oikawa's ear, yanking once in a surprisingly gentle warning to
shut up ("Ah, sorry, sorry!"). It's true, though, Oikawa was there when
Iwaizumi's mother scolded him for not checking his phone often enough,
threatening to take it away.
It's not something that particularly bothers Oikawa though, he rarely needs to
text Iwaizumi, because they see each other very nearly every day. Part of
Oikawa knows it won't always been like this, they won't always been in
highschool, in the same club, with the same friends, but it's too distant of a
concept to really concern himself with for now.
~
Me:
did u catch rikkyo v Hosei???
Aug 18
Me:
hey
Aug 23
Me:
ffffoooooouuuuuuurrrrrrrr in the mornnnnnninggggg practice (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
Sept 1
Me:
only omega on the court
again
(。____。)
Sept 2
Me:
You there?
Sept 9
Me:
it's you!!!
Attached: grumpo-doggo.jpeg
Sept 11
Me:
no one agrees but
aoyama has a good chance at championships in spring even after that game
ito is still strong
their receives are still strong!!!
no one appreciates my genius!!!!
◞‸◟
Sept 15
Me:
ningyo. live birth or egg layers?
Sept 17
Me:
aoba johsais playing in osaka
10/5
u going?
Iwa-chan:
Yeah I wouldn't miss it
Me:
ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ !!!!!
Iwa-chan:
What
Me:
A sign of life!!!?
Meet up at the game?
Sept 20
Me:
IWAIZUMI HAJIME HAVE U DIED
Sept 25
Iwa-chan
Yeah lets meet up
Sept 28
Oikawa glowers down at his phone, refusing to send yet another ignored text.
Iwaizumi should see the rest of Oikawa's inbox! It's full of people happy for
the chance to respond to his messages. In fact, he could send a text to just
about any of them right now and get a reply within seconds, and he has a hard
time coming up with a reason why he should waste one on Iwaizumi, again!
… Until he's got the text field open and he's typing.
Me:
going to get a seat
in gym #4
Oikawa finds gym 4, sits down in the front row, crosses his arms, and refuses
to check his phone again.
Iwaizumi is a very out-of-sight, out-of-mind style friend. He easily reignites
old relationships as though no time has passed once he finally meets up with
them again, but does very little to maintain it in the meantime, and is libel
to pick up and leave whenever with just as much fanfare.
Oikawa has always known this, he's just never been out of Iwaizumi's sight
until now, and sure enough, ten minutes into the match, Oikawa smells sage – a
woody, earthy, faintly smoky scent, like a campfire, and Iwaizumi appears.
Sitting down next to him without a word, as though it's only been a few hours
since they last saw each other, not a full two months.
They watch the game in silence. It's 19-15, Aoba Joshai and Johzenji.
"Surprised they didn't go with Yahaba," is the first thing Iwaizumi says. "Or
at least Watari."
"Neither of them have Kunimi's game sense," Oikawa says, watching Kunimi send a
toss to Kindaichi. "Probably would've been setting since junior high if it
wasn't for Tobio."
"And his lazy ass," Iwaizumi says.
"Mm," Oikawa agrees, leaning forward onto his knees to watch the new chemistry
of Aoba Johsai, post Oikawa, post Iwaizumi. He's not sure what happened that
made the coach pick Kunimi over Yahaba, but the decision trickled down to the
team's new ace: Kindaichi, and it shows in his spikes, which have more power
and accuracy than they did last year, and the laziness definitely seems to have
been beaten out of Kunimi, likely not by choice. He smirks. Poor, soft Kunimi,
a creature of comfort turned into a work horse.
"They're doing well," Iwaizumi says, sounding relieved.
"You just assumed it'd turn into a dumpster fire without us," Oikawa says.
Iwaizumi frowns at him. Oikawa shrugs, leaning back. The team is doing fine.
They'll likely win this match. But Oikawa has always been able to spot
weakness, pinpoint it with ruthless accuracy, and he's not blinded by
sentimentality. They are strong, solid, but their plays are safe. Textbook.
Well executed, but timid – except of course for Mad Dog-chan, who still leaves
skidmarks all over the court – there's no innovative spark.
This is not a team that would make it to nationals. But Iwaizumi clearly
doesn't want to have that discussion and Oikawa would like to keep the
conversation pleasant.
"How's Chuo University?"
Iwaizumi's eyes narrow before his mouth turns up, a true, slow smile. True
happiness. How annoying. "Good. How's Tsukuba?"
"Very good," Oikawa brags, ruthlessly sticking a pin in the rant he was about
to go on, about how crowded Tsukuba's gym is in the mornings, how omegas have a
separate locker room and it's lonely, how the current setter is competent but
not nearly as talented as Oikawa and not at all graceful about admitting it,
and how, no matter how well Oikawa tosses, how perfect his aim is, how perfect
the shot is, Iwaizumi is never there to hit it, which is really the root of all
his problems.
"Oh," Iwaizumi says. "They won."
Mad Dog-chan is surrounded by the team, and Yahaba hugs him tight enough to
lift off the floor, falling back onto his ass. Oikawa raises an eyebrow.
"That was interesting."
Iwaizumi makes a worried grunt of agreement beside him.
Kyoutani Kentarou is an omega – a surly, monster of one, but an omega all the
same, and the only one that ever played volleyball at Aoba Johsai alongside
Oikawa. Iwaizumi kept him in line with brute force, but Yahaba took him on with
nothing but a few words.
"… I'm sure Irihata-san has his eye on it," Iwaizumi says after a beat.
"Hopefully."
There's bows and applause, then Aoba Johsai is rushed off the court and
Iwaizumi stands.
"Their next game is in an hour," he says. "Want to get something to eat?"
"Sure," Oikawa says, though he wants to be disagreeable and say no, though he's
not entirely sure why.
It's normal, is the thing.
It's normal, normal, normal.
Iwaizumi and Oikawa have never talked about mating. Never, not even as a joke.
Alpha and omega mating can get intense, and stupid, aggressive and fixated,
leading to premature bonding, especially as teenagers, and high schoolers are
regularly cautioned against it. Aoba Johsai was a close team, as close to a
pack as there is, nowadays, and the risk was always at the forefront of
Oikawa's mind, all through high school. He refused to throw off Aoba Johsai's
balance, and had assumed these were Iwaizumi's concerns, as well.
But now they are not on the same team.
They are not in the same university, they are not in the same city, and
Iwaizumi is not even answering his texts.
It's embarrassing to admit, but Oikawa has been looking forward to meeting up
for weeks, even dressing very carefully for this now-rare occasion to see
Iwaizumi face to face, to feel his presence and be close enough to smell that
sharp, smoky scent.
It's time for something better than normal, Oikawa has been patient! They both
have, but there is clearly nothing outside of the norm in Iwaizumi's invitation
and Oikawa bites it down on the tantrum for more, refusing to degrade himself
enough to ask outright. Oikawa has been the recipient of far too many emotional
confessions of love to associate it with anything but humiliating degradation.
Iwaizumi knows, and Oikawa knows, and Oikawa is not going to blink first.
So they banter instead, normally, trying to decide between eating the shittier,
closer food in the auditorium, or going all the way across the street for
something better.
"'All the way', just how lazy are you?"
"Very," Oikawa says, smiling pretty, resting his chin in his hand.
"Christ," Iwaizumi says. "It's like you're asking me to punch you – "
"Omega, omega, omega ~"
It's a sing-song/chant from the empty court. Oikawa and Iwazumi both grow
quiet, listening to the vaguely familiar voice but unable to place it.
"What's Arai so happy about?" a second voice asks.
"We're playing Karasuno next."
"Yeah? So?"
"Are you serious?"
"They have three omegas in the starting line up!"
At this, Oikawa stands, and they're both moving to the edge of rail to get a
view of the court below, where the new team is warming up.
Sarayashiki.
Oikawa sneers,
~
"Hey, hey, pretty setter!"
Oikawa glances up from his serve, but continues bouncing the ball.
It came from the other side of the net – Sarayashiki's wing spiker. First year,
alpha, annoyingly tall for his age. Annoyingly powerful spikes, but lacks
precision; easily redirected; not a threat; boring. Even with the way he's been
blatantly ogling Oikawa, he hasn't been interesting enough to make it onto Aoba
Johsai's radar.
The spiker is out of position, up near the net, wearing the reckless, angry
grin of a player who has already accepted his defeat, and now has nothing to
lose.
"Let's make a bet!"
Oikawa catches the ball. Raises an eyebrow, waiting.
"If we win this set," says the spiker. "You give me the pretty omega panties
you're wearing right now – "
An explosion of outrage from Aoba Johsai, nearly drowning out the rest of the
spiker's taunt.
" – and if I can guess the color – "
The spiker is whacked upside the head by the ace on his own team. "What's wrong
with you?"
"S-sorry about that!" Sarayashiki's captain says, rushing up to the net,
bowing. "Arai joined the team to meet cute omegas in the stands, so you can
imagine how excited he gets when he's actually playing one…"
"Shut his mouth or get him off the court," Iwaizumi says, meeting him at the
net, and Sarayashiki's captain falls a few steps back, intimidated. All the
commotion is more than enough time for Oikawa regain any lost composure, and he
smiles, coldly, bouncing the ball, enjoying the sharp slap of it against his
palm.
Frankly, outside of the crudeness, it was a disappointingly unoriginal taunt.
Easily shaken off, and, unfortunately for Sarayashiki, a misstep on Arai's
part. It's the kind of distraction that could send an aggressive team
spiraling, and Aoba Johsai is a team of alphas, save Oikawa and beta Kunimi.
He's not sure if that was on Arai's mind when he said it, a calculated move, or
if he's just genuinely a pervert, but either way, Oikawa has experience
redirecting Aoba Johsai's energy, aiming it properly, refocusing it where it
needs to be. He knows how to use this.
"Hmm," Oikawa sighs, a quiet, bored noise, but his team is primed and waiting.
"It looks like this court is infested with delinquents. Let's help wipe them
out."
Aoba Johsai's focus palpably increases.
It's not his favorite role to play, the virtuous and pure omega in need of
avenging, but it sharpens the fangs of his alphas, getting them locked on
target with ruthless fury, and they crush Sarayashiki – 25-9.
~
"They actually got past the first round?" Iwaizumi mutters.
Last year they were a mess, but it looks like more than half the team has been
switched out, including the ace and captain that kept Arai on a leash. Either
they were third years, or just lost interest in the sport, Oikawa can't say.
The new faces look bigger than the average first year, though, taller and
heavier. Arai himself is only a second year, but even from a distance Oikawa
can see how he's grown over the season. He towers over the rest of his all-
alpha team and obviously holds a position of influence, the group watching
avidly as he goes on.
"Karasuno has an omega blocker, omega ace, and omega setter."
"No way," another team member says, impressed. "Those are some big ticket
positions."
"A blocker omega??"
"And the pitch server," says Arai. "Plus two omega managers, and an omega
adviser!"
"That's like… 70% omega??"
"Yep. Always an omega in the rotation, practically guaranteed."
"Damn..."
"Why aren't there any fun omegas at our school?"
"Seriously! Even our manager's a beta. We should start recruiting them next
year."
"Uh, no thanks. Omegas never take sports seriously, it's just a chance to
flirt."
"Hey, remember the Aoba Johsai setter last year?"
"Oikawa," one of them sighs. Iwaizumi makes a small, annoyed noise, gripping
the railing. Oikawa doesn't grin, but he notices, raising an eyebrow. It's not
enough to make up for the unanswered texts, but it's an instinctive reaction on
Iwaizumi's part, probably not even aware that he's doing it, and somewhat
soothes the instinctive tantrum on Oikawa's.
"I doubt this Karasuno's setter will be like Oikawa," Arai is saying,
thoughtfully. "That kind of omega is once in a lifetime."
"Think he's cute though?"
"Probably."
"He's gotta be. To make it this far? The whole team is probably filled with the
cutest omegas in the prefecture!!"
Oikawa coughs into his fist to hide the snorting laugh, elbowing Iwaizumi
beside him.
"Right, well, while the rest of you are all thinking with your dicks, I'm going
to stay focused. You know Karasuno's setter is Oikawa's kohai right?"
"... Fuck me, for real?"
"Like some kinda… omega mentorship?"
"An omega bond."
"Fuck."
The conversation below grows quiet, contemplative.
The amusement has died, and Oikawa feels his lip curling in disgust. There's
heat there, the team below is obviously imagining something straight out of
some perverted omega/omega manga. A full bond? While he was still in junior
high?? With Kageyama??
"Omegas don't bond like that," the player who says manages to sound even more
disgusted with the idea than Oikawa.
"They totally do, they can even do mate marks – "
"Well, they shouldn't," says the first one, then, after a contemplative beat,
"I mean, unless there's an alpha there and they approve it."
"Obviously, but – "
"Guys! Focus! Shinichi's right. Karasuno's omegas are probably cute – with lots
of experience distracting alphas. You can't let your guard down."
"Hnn.. I bet a lot of teams have taken it easy on them up to now."
"Exactly. We need to remember - we're here to win!"
"... Think they'll cry?"
"Mm, I hope so."
"I hope not! I hate it when omegas cry."
"You'll have to be strong, Itchi."
The team turns to discussing 'strategy,' if you can call it that, and Iwaizumi
looks disgusted.
"They're more likely to end up crying than Karasuno," Iwaizumi says.
"I hope not," Oikawa says, blandly. "I hate it when alphas cry." Iwaizumi is
right, though. Mr. Refreshing was fine for some eye candy, but he's gone. They
still have Freckles but he's mostly reserve. Glasses and Tobio-chan, who will
be staring them down directly beside the net, are as flirtatious as two blocks
of ice.
"Too bad that Big Gun ace omega isn't still on the team," Oikawa says, pulling
out his phone.
"What's that for?" Iwaizumi asks eyes narrowed.
"Just in case something interesting happens," Oikawa hums, switching to the
camera. Going by Arai's shamelessness last year and Glasses and Kageyama's
surliness, Oikawa figures it's pretty likely. At the last second he recognizes
the intent in Iwaizumi's silence and yanks his phone to the right, out of
reach, when Iwaizumi tries to smack it from his hand. "Iwa-chan is such a
bully!!"
Iwaizumi gives up, the touch lasting a moment longer than necessary, squeezing
at the back of Oikawa's neck just once, a sort of warning pinch, and Oikawa's
mouth goes dry, an involuntary shiver snaking up his back.
Fuck.
The stands start filling again, Karasuno enters the gym, and Arai gasps.
"Elegant omega~"
"Queen omega!"
"Brown eyes and blond hair? An autumn pixie!"
"Wanna take a bite~"
"They can't be serious," Iwaizumi says.
"They're not," Oikawa says. "It's an intimidation tactic."
The catcalling might have started out as Arai just running his mouth last year,
but it's apparently evolved. The whole team is going at it and reminds Oikawa
of a pack of dogs, ganging up on its prey. Deliberate, systematic, and it's
working. Karasuno's captain – a third year who wasn't even in the main rotation
last year – is the only one successfully ignoring it, jogging through his
warming up team, clapping his hands and shouting out last minute instructions
that are going ignored, the rest of the team fixated on the taunting on the
other side of the net, shouting back insults or just looking sick.
Oikawa pockets his phone, less amused as it drags on. He knows taunting is part
of volleyball, and as long as it doesn't delay the game, a player would have to
say something truly hair-curling for the ref to step in during warm ups, but
it's becoming unpleasant to watch.
"Black hair, blue eyed omega – regal!"
"Be my omega, step on my face!"
Honestly, out of everyone, he would've expected Kageyama to be the least
affected, and is surprised to see the obvious tension in his shoulders, the
flinch when their attention turns on him.
Iwaizumi clearly sees it as well. He's nearing the end of his patience, both
his hands in fists on the rail, faint, dangerous rumble from his throat, that
same annoyed growl as before.
Oikawa notices.
~
"Good afternoon, Tooru-san." The first year beta waiting outside the gym is
blushing, looking down at her feet as she holds out the Tupperware container.
Oikawa's eyes brighten immediately. He's gotten enough gifts to know, plain
Tupperware – sealed tight! – certainly means there's something especially yummy
inside. "Is this for me?"
She nods, still unable to make eye contact as he takes the treats, cracking the
lid and inhaling deep, wondering if it's cookies or chocolates or –
Oikawa freezes. The overpowering stench of vinegar, egg, and fish. He forces
the smile back on his face.
"You made these?"
"Yes," she says, barely a whisper, sinking into herself. She must have seen his
crack of composure.
Oikawa redoubles his smile, bending slightly to get in her eyeline, which is
impossible, as she is quite tiny. "You're very talented!"
She's covering her bright red cheeks, biting down her smile, "N-not as talented
as you, Tooru-san!"
"Ah, that's so kind! I'm sure these will give me lots of energy. Thank you... "
"Aiko."
"Ai-chan," Oikawa says, smiling. "I'll think of you when I eat them! Enjoy your
holiday, alright?"
"Y-you, also, too – please!" she stutters out, bowing as she does, and that
seems to be the end of her courage, because she bows once more, then bolts.
He adds the gift from Aiko to the pile of presents he's received thus far
today. It's the last day before the winter break, and Oikawa is popular, with
younger omegas and betas especially. He's tall for an omega – for an alpha,
even – but pretty, and approachable, and a safe alternative to mysterious and
aggressive alphas. Oikawa loves every bit of it. He loves the attention, the
gifts, and in a way he loves each one of the timid creatures who work up the
courage to approach, giving freely the incredibly fragile, valuable offer of
their hearts, alongside their crafts and treats and – fishy vinegar eggs.
Oikawa hums happily as he gathers all his gifts into his bag, cradling the
overflow in his arms, nearly running into Iwaizumi on his way out.
"There you are," Iwaizumi says, and actually sounds flustered.
"What? Of course here I am, I'm not late," Oikawa says, defensively, before he
notices –
Omegas and betas crush on Oikawa, but underclassmen crush on Iwaizumi, too.
Oikawa saw it last season when they were second years, and it's even worse now,
Iwaizumi naturally hitting his stride as a wise and knowledgeable third year.
Senpai supreme. At one point or another every single first year on the team has
had their heart hooked on Iwaizumi, and trialling behind him a bit hopelessly,
clumsily infatuated.
Physically, Iwaizumi doesn't particularly stand out, but he gives off an aura
that's addictive – experienced, sure, strong, safe. Young alphas in particular
flock to it, hoping for his approval and attention. They don't tend toward
gifts, but will show off for him during practice, ask for his opinion, his
help, his touch and care.
It is immediately obvious what happened as soon as Oikawa spots the volleyball
charm on Iwaizumi's gym bag, glinting in the light, shiny and silver and brand
new, the sort of knickknacky nonsense Iwaizumi would never be frivolous enough
to buy himself, combined with Iwaizumi's frazzled state.
"Who confessed?" Oikawa asks, grinning.
Interestingly, Iwaizumi's expression grows defensive and unamused. His tone is
warning. "Don't, Shittykawa."
Oikawa is genuinely confused for a moment – don't what? Why would Oikawa, of
all people, be cruel about an underclassman giving a gift, as if there's any he
could be resentful – Oh.
Oikawa's expression stiffens.
"Don't what?" he asks, feeling his smile going wonky and mean, the kind that
pisses Iwaizumi off tremendously. "Tease him?"
Iwaizumi doesn't say anything, mouth pinched. This is actually infuriating,
because he's holding something back, and it would really have to be quite
something to make Iwaizumi bite his tongue.
"What?" Oikawa demands.
"Just don't," Iwaizumi says.
Oikawa waves his hand dismissively. "I won't say a word," he says. "Poor Tobio-
chan didn't stand a chance with dashing Iwaizumi-senpai around - "
Iwaizumi smacks him, knocking a stuffed bear and box of chocolates to the
floor. "Ow!!"
"Don't that, Crappykawa."
"Fine. You're going to give him the wrong idea by keeping it, you know," Oikawa
says, not caring that he sounds petty, lifting his chin as they walk home.
"What, you want me to throw it out?"
"Obviously!"
Iwaizumi doesn't even have to say it, gesturing at the spilled chocolates on
the floor.
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because," Oikawa says. "They're not my teammates, and – "
Oikawa bites his tongue. They're not Kageyama, which would sound jealous and
stupid, but it's the truth. They understand the social niceties of giving
Oikawa gift, that the dance ends there, that it's the moment and that's all. He
doesn't trust Kageyama to know that, he doesn't trust kind Iwaizumi-senpai to
make it clear, but he also knows a lot of this is irrational. If the trinket
was from Kunimi, he would only be ribbing Iwaizumi in good humor.
"None of our kohais got me a present," he finishes instead, sticking out his
tongue in an especially bratty tone. "I'm jealous!"
Iwaizumi sighs heavily, shaking his head, hearing the truth. "As if you need to
be."
~
The new Aoba Joshai wins the last game of the day in the third set, but it's
close – 24 to 26. They're happy enough about it, an air of breathless,
exhausted victory as they talk to the coach out in the hallway.
" – and this is allowance you only get because of your especially solid
performance. I expect all of you to be on the bullet train home by nine,
understand?"
"Yes, coach!" They shout back.
"Going on a tour of Osaka?" Oikawa asks, and they all startle in surprise.
"Oikawa-san!"
The third and second years temper down their smiles almost immediately, while
the first years remain openly starstruck, and Oikawa can't help preening.
"Ah, Tooru," Coach Irihata says, smile sincere as he steps to the side.
"Iwaizumi. With these two on the team I barely had a job at all last season!
They've got a keen eye for the game, so listen up."
"Hm, right. Hm," Oikawa says, tapping at his lip as he realizes he hadn't
really prepared anything at all.
"Please coach us, senpai," Yahaba asks, grinning, teasing, obviously incredibly
proud of both his team and the captain's jersey.
"Well, first of all, I am disappointed," Oikawa says, hands on his hips. "If
you keep preforming like this you're going to make people forget your amazing
Tooru-senpai!"
The third and second years stare, unimpressed and unmoved, but the first years
eyes shine.
"We were that good??"
"Seriously, Oikawa-san," Kunimi prods, voice flat. He was never one to tolerate
being placated, and from the slight tightening of his mouth it's clear to see
he's nervous about his performance. That Oikawa was there to see it.
"I was happy with my competent replacement," Oikawa says, sincere, hand on
Kunimi's shoulder. "But if you expect to make it past quarterfinals, you'll
have to be more than just competent. Mm? Mad Dog-chan can't be the only one
taking risks. Playing it safe will get shut down against wild card teams and –
" Oikawa inhales sharply, unable to stop the childish shout, pointing at the
lot of them – "I won't tolerate hearing that you lost to Karasuno!!"
"Oikawa-san would come back as a ghoul and haunt the gym," Kindaichi mutters.
"What? I graduated, I didn't die."
"This team has everything it needs to take Aoba Johsai to nationals," Iwaizumi
says, batting Oikawa to the side. "You need to trust that. Timid plays won't
cut it. You're strong. Act like it."
Annoyingly, this is what makes the team grow serious, nodding.
"So!" Oikawa says, bumping his shoulders into Iwaizumi to retake his place in
the front, clapping his hands. "Who's hungry? A treat from your senpai!"
They end up going across the street.
It is expensive.
"You're the one who offered," Iwaizumi grins wickedly at Oikawa's weeping face
when they get the bill, then, in a surprising display of generosity, pulls out
his own wallet. "We'll split it."
The team has until nine to roam the city, and doesn't seem to know what to do
with themselves once they make it out onto the street. They walk through some
of more popular areas aimlessly. It's almost seven and the Osaka nightlife is
waking up – bright signs lighting up in windows, vendors setting up their
carts, the smell of roasting meats and deep fried pastries filling the air, and
Oikawa enjoys it, smiling over at Iwaizumi. He likes the atmosphere of the
city, he likes being surrounded by familiar teammates and friends, and he likes
Iwa-chan.
Iwaizumi shoves him, gently, shoulder to shoulder, obviously sensing his mood.
"There it is," he teases. "Another one of those impure smiles."
Oikawa just winks.
"Hey, there's an arcade!"
It's one of the first years, looking absolutely delighted about it.
"There's arcades in Miyagi, dumbass," Kindaichi says. "We should do something
we can't do anywhere else!"
"Well, there are some big parks, small parks, the hot springs, museums, if you
have the money," Oikawa says. "Or we could go the one of the malls, if you want
to buy your senpais a gift in return for that dinner."
They settle on the arcade.
~
"So, good news! Your father finally managed to sell all that Hosei gear."
"To who?" Oikawa snorts, remembering the pile of Hosei University merchandise
his father impulse bought the day Oikawa received a scholarship offer in the
mail. Three more universities eventually sent offers, giving Oikawa his pick,
and he went with Tsukuba. The pile of gear went into the loft, only good for
teasing his father.
"He went online," his mother says. "Found a family in Murata with a student in
their second year. I don't know if he mentioned how much was volleyball
related, though," she laughs. "So, how are you? How is your team? Your
classes?"
"Good, fine, and easier than I expected," Oikawa says, laying on the bed in his
dorm, tossing a volley ball toward the ceiling.
"No alphas giving you a hard time, right?" she asks. His mother and sisters are
betas, and his father is an alpha, and his mother had always been particularly
paranoid about the ever present threat of roaming, virile alphas preying on her
omega son. "I wish Iwaizumi had made it into Tsukuba… how is he?"
"Hm?" Oikawa asks, lightly, as though he couldn't care less. "Haven't heard
from him."
"Haven't heard from him? Since when?" she asks, baffled, as though the concept
of Iwaizumi not speaking to Oikawa is a literal impossibility, and rubbing salt
deep, deep into the wound.
"August, I think," he says, spinning the ball on his finger now.
He knows it's not personal.
The thing he doesn't really want to admit, to anyone, the thing that makes his
gut twist in embarrassment, is that he wanted it to be personal. He had
expected to be the exception, for Iwaizumi to seek him out, to answer his
messages while leaving the rest unread. He's sure if he made a bigger fuss, if
he texted every day, Iwaizumi would respond. But his pride only allows him to
stew in unspoken, insecure resentment.
She must hear it, because it doesn't fool his mother for a second. She her
voice goes soft. "You know he's probably working very hard, Tooru. He's always
been a serious student."
"Tch," Oikawa says, feeling cruel. "Only because he has to be."
"Well, I would be very surprised to hear he's spending time with any other
omegas in any case!"
As if he had said anything about that!! Oikawa flushes in annoyance at his
mother's blatant disregard for Oikawa's carefully maintained cool. "Iwaizumi
can do whatever he likes. And – I hope he is! Because I am!"
His mother sighs. "You two – " she stops. "It's a shame you didn't go to the
same school," she says again.
It feels like a cruel simplification of the situation. "Yeah," he grunts
shortly.
"You should talk to him!"
"Yeah," he grunts again, too embarrassed to say he's tried.
"I'm sure he's just busy with his team and the new school! And his new classes,
you always helped him with his English, didn't you? I bet doing that on his own
is taking up a lot of time, as well."
"Mother, if you want to discuss what Iwa-chan's been up to," he says, sugar
sweet. "I can give you his number to talk directly!"
"Oh! Don't take that tone with me, Tooru!" she says, and sighs again. "I'm sure
you'll hear from him as soon as he has free time."
"Did you know Tsukuba Space Center is only nine blocks away?" Oikawa says,
keeping the same chipper tone his mother had objected to, but she's always gone
easy on her youngest omega.
There's a beat. "No, I did not," she says, and lets him go on, indulgently.
~
Aoba Johsai messes around in the arcade an hour or so, most of the time spent
leaning against a crane game, watching Kunimi grab prize after prize. Going to
a movie is discussed, but no one can agree on what to see, and there's really
not enough time anyway.
"But Iwaizumi and I don't have to be anywhere by nine," Oikawa says, masking it
as a way to mock his kohais, but Iwaizumi scrunches his nose in a negative.
"There's nothing good playing," he says.
"There's the mall, too. Bars..." Oikawa says, and knows he's reaching.
"Shrines..."
"And a sixty minute ride back to Chuo," Iwaizumi says.
"Right, because Iwa-chan is such a serious student." It's almost nine, and
Oikawa pouts about it as they walk the team down to the bullet train, until a
slow, repeated, rolling boom catches his attention.
Across the street, there is a club with flashing green, neon clovers beside the
name LUCKY.
It's a huge building, the insides mysterious, dark and foggy, lit entirely by
thin, long streaks of green backlights. There's two levels of dance floors, and
from outside Oikawa can see the silhouettes of people who aren't dancing, tall,
elegant figures in clusters of twos and threes, holding drinks, standing with
easy, lazy authority and sophistication.
"You know," he says, half the team already down the steps to the train. "Most
clubs in Osaka don't card."
They freeze mid-step.
"Really?" Kindaichi asks, looking between Oikawa and the club across the
street.
"Really?" Iwaizumi says, a flat, less than impressed echo.
"How many chances are they going to have to visit a city like Osaka??" Oikawa
asks. "We'll be there!"
"They'll have a chance when they're older," Iwaizumi says. "You seriously want
to take first years into a club?"
"I could take the first years home," Motomu says, staring at the club like one
might an old, moldy sock.
"Really?!"
"Yes!! Team spirit!"
"What about Irihata?" Iwaizumi asks.
"He's probably in bed already," Kunimi says, doing a poor job of hiding his
interest, craning his neck to check out the club. "He won't know what time what
we get back."
"Until you show up dead tired and hung over tomorrow morning," Iwaizumi says.
"There's no practice tomorrow!!" Kindaichi shouts, like he threw down a winning
hand in a card game.
Everyone is staring expectantly at Iwaizumi, eyes hopeful and bright – Oikawa
doesn't want the night to end. He doesn't want the excuse to keep Iwaizumi near
him without begging for it to vanish, he doesn't want to go down those steps
and end up taking the forty minute train ride north, while Iwaizumi goes east,
where he will be completely ignored, until Oikawa can find a good enough reason
for him to take another break.
Finally, Iwaizumi relents with a heavy, annoyed eye roll. "Fine."
There's a collective shout of victory from the team, clamoring up the steps and
rushing across the street.
"Stop," Iwaizumi says once they get there, grabbing Mad Dog-chan by the back of
the shirt, nearly choking him, the rest of the team turns around, surprised.
"Most clubs don't bother to card, but if a group of alphas rush the door like
bunch of starved chimpanzees, they're probably not getting in. Calm down."
"Right – right, yeah," Yahaba says, smoothing down his hair, which gets
Kindaichi comically smoothing his up.
Iwaizumi evaluates the team's poker faces with narrow, critical eyes, adjusts
Mad Dog-chan's shirt, then nods.
Without a word – the same way he simply dropped into the chair next to Oikawa
after two months of silence – he slings his arm over Oikawa's shoulder, and
with a rather bored expression, turns around, and the two of them stroll
through the club without hassle. The rest follow like a line of ducklings, and
the bouncer looks the other way with an amused, indulgent smile.
LUCKY is full of obviously trendy, stylish college students, and while the high
schoolers take in the scene with wide eyes and open mouths, Oikawa holds back.
The team stands out painfully in the clean, bright white Aoba Johsai uniform,
and he's second guessing this decision. The third years Oikawa knew – Hanamaki
and Matsukawa – could've easily blended in with this crowd in high school, but
the next generation is obviously not made of the same stuff, and they look very
out of place.
"Hey!! High schoolers!!"
"You part of a club?!"
"Volleyball!" Three of them shout back to the drunk dancer.
"Ey!!!" The dancers shouts back, happy, amused by the novelty and the team's
enthusiasm. Soon others are shouting questions, encouraging the team out onto
the dance floor, and Yahaba even gets someone offering to buy them all a round
when he tells them they won.
"Has Iwa-chan become a raver?" Oikawa teases, amused by Iwaizumi's
knowledgeable air. He expects Iwaizumi to back down once getting called out.
He does not. He shrugs, arm still over Oikawa's shoulder, his scent especially
rich and strong, almost overbearing after being away for so long, but mostly a
familiar comfort.
"Chuo has some, uh. Partiers," he says.
Oikawa's expression cracks, then he forces a smile. "I see. Iwa-chan is a real
college student now."
"'Real'?" Iwaizumi repeats, unimpressed. "Don't be jealous, Shittykawa – "
"Are you gonna get a drink?" Oikawa asks, pulling away, heading up to the bar.
".. No," Iwaizumi says, letting it drop.
Iwaizumi is going to clubs.
Iwaizumi isn't busy studying, he's going to clubs. Iwaizumi is going to clubs
and Oikawa is texting him about volleyball practice and fictional creatures.
Oikawa knows he has an ugly expression on his face as he heads up to the bar,
but it's still pretty enough for him to get an offer from an alpha to buy his
drink. She's curvy and blond and gorgeous, smells like ginger and coconut, and
he says yes immediately.
"And what's your story, cutie?" she asks, leaning against the bar.
Oikawa settles into the soothing rhythm of the conversation easily – he loves
flirting, loves talking with alphas, loves being doted on, and being charming
in return. She asks his age, his classes, his interests, complimenting his
pretty face, his cute smile, brown eyes, and his bad mood has more or less
melted away by the end of it, practically purring under her attention.
She laughs lightly at the sight Aoba Johsai makes on the dance floor,
impossible to miss with how close they stick together, and the matching bright
white jackets. She nods toward them, "Is it sports night or something?"
"Must be a tournament," the bartender says, setting Oikawa's drink on the
counter. "The other team is volleyball, too."
"Other team?" Oikawa asks, glancing around the club, expression dropping when
he sees fucking Sarayashiki.
Still in their uniforms, even, not on the dance floor but in a booth, having
what appears to be a grand old time.
"Thanks for the drink," Oikawa nods and smiles, taking a step back.
"Aw," the alpha pouts, and it's actually quite cute. "Can't I get one little
kiss?"
It's chaste and brief, and, judging by his annoyed expression, Iwaizumi saw the
entire thing. Oikawa rejoins him at the table he's found near the dance floor,
where they can properly chaperone the team. "You better not drink too much to
be useful. This was your idea."
"It's not really something I can control!" Oikawa says. "It's rude to refuse a
gift, Iwa-chan, isn't it?"
Iwaizumi stares, clearly able to tell there's something unspoken there, but
probably not connecting it to a silver volleyball charm in particular. "You're
in a bratty mood."
"Bratty?" Oikawa says, voice chipper even as irritation rises inside him. It's
not often he feels justified, the one that's actually been wronged, but he
feels like he has been today, has been for months, and in a strange way it
makes him feel powerful, anger sliding through his veins like some cleaner form
of adrenaline, and it makes him smile. "You can pay for my drinks instead, if
you're feeling jealous."
"Hardly," Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, and goes back to watching
the team on the floor.
"Mmm, I see," Oikawa says, tapping the table and smiling as he thinks. That was
actually it, the first time anything other than friendship has been vocally
hinted at between them. It was met with rejection. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe
he's always been wrong, or maybe something changed in the few months they were
apart.
Or maybe, somehow even more infuriating, he's right, and Iwaizumi is just being
a fucking walking bag of cocks, too – too lazy to say something! Or too – too –
what? Oikawa doesn't know what it could be that's holding him back.
"Hey!" A voice gasps. "It's pretty setter-chan!!"
Arai and his team of alpha assholes, a parody of even his mother's worst fear,
had been on their way to the dance floor, distracted by Oikawa along the way,
and all eight of them start walking over to his table instead.
"Where were you today, pretty boy?? We didn't get to see you play!"
Iwaizumi starts to stand, to tell them to back off, but Oikawa waves him down.
"Don't be rude, Iwa-chan!" he says, pleasantly, and Iwaizumi literally double
takes in confusion, looking between the group and Oikawa. "I was only a
spectator this year."
"Good thing! It'd be a shame if you had to play against any more delinquents,"
says the alpha in jersey #5, and they all laugh.
Oikawa laughs along with them, watching Iwaizumi's confused irritation grow out
the corner of his eye. "I did have to watch a nasty team of them,
unfortunately."
They ooooh at the insult, jostling one another and laughing. Happy, because
Oikawa is openly flirting, leaning across the table toward them, running his
finger along the rim of his drink.
"Tooru-san has some teeth on him!"
"Can I get you a drink?" #2 asks, and when Oikawa raises an eyebrow, and the
cup in his hand, #2 grins. "Heh. Another drink, then?"
"Of course. Iwaizumi," Oikawa says, turning to face him with a wide smile.
"Would you like our new friends to buy you a drink?"
Sarayashiki grows suddenly quiet, watching. #2's grin stretches to shit-eating
proportions. It's probably the most emasculating thing an omega could ask an
alpha.
Iwaizumi stares back, blank. Finally, in a calm, cold voice, he says, "Sure."
Oikawa raises both eyebrows, not expecting that, not realizing it was a bluff,
really, until Iwaizumi called it.
"Drinks for me and my friend," Oikawa says to #2. "If that's alright."
"Hell yeah!" #2 says, and nearly falls over himself to get to the bar.
"We played your kohai today," Arai reports, and is watching hungrily for a
reaction.
"I saw," Oikawa says. "I also saw him beat you."
"Yeah, they were a pretty solid team for having so many omegas," #8 says,
looking annoyed. "That left side was powerful."
Oikawa wants to tell them about last year, about the cannon that used to be on
Karasuno's left, and they actually got off easy, and how, by and by, that
cannon was an omega, but instead he just smiles flirtatiously. "Not as strong
as Sarayashiki's left, though."
#8 inhales sharply, and Oikawa is fairly certain he just got the beginnings of
an erection.
#2 returns, holding two ridiculously pretty drinks, pink and sparkling with
fat, sugar-dipped slices of fruit impaled on the straw.
"Enjoy!" he says, setting them on the table.
Iwaizumi calmly takes the straw out, sets it on the napkin, and maintains eye
contact with #2 as he takes a long, slow draw.
The table is small, only made for two, Iwaizumi and Oikawa surrounded on all
sides by the extra large, ridiculous teenage alphas.
They are full of bristling, posturing energy, clearly jostling for Iwaizumi's
chosen position beside Oikawa, and Oikawa finds himself drawn to the way
Iwaizumi maintains his authority, control of the situation, seemingly without
effort. But he can tell – he can see Iwaizumi's slightly flexing jaw – this is
an extreme act of restraint. He wants to lose it, wants to rise the bait, get
in their face, but instead calmly sits the drink back down on the table.
"Thanks," Iwaizumi says to #2, and the word somehow comes across like a
condescending pat on the cheek.
Oikawa realizes his mouth is open slightly, and closes it, swallowing. He has
never felt want like this in his life.
"Wanna dance?"
Oikawa has to blink, clear his head, glancing over at Arai, who asked. He
glances back to Iwaizumi, impressed enough to forgive it all, really, all he'd
need is the words –
Iwaizumi's voice is an obvious dare. "Have fun."
Well. Not those words.
Sour beyond belief, Oikawa smiles his most guileless smile. "I would love to."
The anger has returned, stronger than it’s been all evening, combined with
frustration and fresh rejection. He stands, tossing his crumpled napkin onto
the table, and heads out to the dance floor with Arai.
Oikawa only just identifies the alpha's scent as musky peppercorn and wood, and
is unable to decide if he likes it or not before it’s swamped by the mess of
scents on the dance floor.
It's loud, the crowd so thick he can't even see his team anymore. The smells
are overwhelming, to the point of being unpleasant - entirely alpha, especially
aggressive and potent, reminding Oikawa of the last set of an intense game,
when alphas are at their most aggressive.
"You like this song?" Arai asks, loudly. Oikawa doesn't know it, suspects it's
actually a chopped-up mix of whatever the original song was, but he nods. He
likes anything that will get Iwaizumi jealous, or pissed off. Whichever one
he's capable of drawing from the alpha nowadays.
Arai grins, excited, plastering their bodies together.
He is a terrible dancer.
He rocks his hips, and Oikawa can only follow the rhythm his larger body sets,
feeling like he's being ridden rather than danced with. Why does anyone do
this? is his thought, before it occurs to him that if he actually liked the
alpha currently wrapped around him, trusted the massive hands on his waist,
sliding down toward his ass, rocking his body like a toy, this could be
pleasant , but as is, it's uncomfortable, and loud, and the wafts of competing
alphas around him are setting him on edge.
No, he decides, almost calmly. He doesn't like this. Not even in the greediest,
most attention-seeking sense; this alpha is a loudmouthed idiot who will
literally mount anything that stands still long enough for him to get a grip.
Oikawa doesn't want his attention, doesn't want his hands on him, and he grows
colder, and less cooperative, as the humping and grinding continues.
The music is so loud that Arai has to bend down for Oikawa to hear him,
speaking so close against this ear that he can feel his breath down his neck.
"So can I see Oikawa's pretty panties now?"
He flinches back, and Arai laughs, his hand pressing between Oikawa's shoulders
and forcing them closer together again.
"Okay, this was fun, but I think that's enough for now," Oikawa says, pushing
back, but Arai just follows, greedy, still working his hips.
"Come on, let's do something fuuh – aahh!" He's yelping in pain, and Oikawa is
suddenly free of his grip, falling back, not having to look to know it's
Iwaizumi's chest he's fallen back against; his sturdy, solid frame.
"Ah, thanks Iwa-ch – " There's a fist on the back of his shirt, cutting him
short in a yelp, yanking him away from the dance floor. Oikawa stumbles along
backward for a moment, pulled back to the tables like a misbehaving child, then
still going, until they're out the door, and on the sidewalk.
"What was that?" Iwaizumi is furious, and frustrated - mostly frustrated, now
that Oikawa looks again.
"I," Oikawa takes a deep breath. "Was having fun."
"Knock it off," Iwaizumi says, searching Oikawa's face. "If you were trying to
make me jealous – "
Oikawa feels his jaw clench, his lip curl. "Hardly."
Iwaizumi blinks, taking in the heat there. He clear his throat. "Then what – "
"I was having fun," Oikawa repeats.
"That's fun? Arai is fun?"
"Yes!"
"That's – what you want to do?"
"Who are you, Iwaizumi?"
"What?"
"You just dragged me out of a club," Oikawa says, jerking at his own shirt in
emphasis. "But you're not my father, not my mother. You're not my ace anymore.
You're definitely not my alpha. So. Who are you?"
Oikawa steam runs out immediately, as soon as he closes his mouth. The anger is
over, fear taking its place. It's not how he wanted to have this conversation,
he never imagined it as something full of anger and fear, but it has to be said
now, he has to know now.
There's a long stretch of silence, and when he looks at Iwaizumi's face, he
sees a kind of seething anger there that he's never seen before, not even at
his worst.
"Tooru," Iwaizumi says. His voice is cold, the thing he used at the table
against the other alphas, and it's disarming. "The only people who want to be
anything to you don't know any better."
Oikawa is speechless.
"You use people," Iwaizumi says. "You watch them, find what you want from them,
take it, then throw them out when they can't do it anymore."
Usually, in Iwaizumi's anger, he approaches, he gets in Oikawa's space.
Now, he keeps his distance, practically curling in on himself, and even
ignoring the words themselves, the difference leaves Oikawa feeling dazed.
"… Oh," he says.
Iwaizumi will regret saying such a hurtful thing, Oikawa knows this
immediately. Tomorrow morning, or a week, or in a year – he's not sure when,
exactly, but he will regret it. Even if he truly felt them, the words were
cruel, going beyond honesty, aiming to hurt.
The steel core in Oikawa, the part of him that is always, always coolly
detached from any emotional conflict is the only thing able to respond just
now, and knows there's nothing more he can say here to resolve this. This anger
is irrational, impossible to reason with, and the best medicine for it is time.
"Okay," Oikawa nods, lightly, turns around, and walks away.
It's habit and hope that keeps him expecting Iwaizumi to rush up at any second
– they just had a fight, and that is how they resolve all fights, and he also
desperately wants him to. But Iwaizumi does not.
Still reeling, he crosses the street, heads down to the bullet train for the
forty minute ride north.
***** Chapter Two *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter starts out with Oikawa introspection, then Kageyama
     appears, then it's just rape all the way down. This one is Kageyama
     and Oikawa focused. Some violence unfortunately :(
     Again this is Iwaizumi/Oikawa/Kageyama endgame :)
It's a fifteen minute wait for the north bound bullet train, and Oikawa spends
the entire time leaning against the wall of the station, watching the stairs
leading up to the street.
No one else appears, and the train arrives.
The car in the back is thankfully empty, and Oikawa boards, sitting down
heavily. It's only after the door closes, and any possible chance of talking
this out with Iwaizumi is gone, that his brain actually shakes itself free of
its stupor.
Was... he wrong?
Was he that thoroughly, completely, delusional? Did he misread everything, for
– years?
Going just by tonight, the only conclusion he can reach is that Iwaizumi –
never. Was literally never interested.
What, did he come to Osaka out of pity? No, obviously. It doesn't fit. He
remembers Iwaizumi's easy invitation to eat after the first game, he remembers
their birthday celebrations just three and four months ago. Countless times, he
can tick them off on his fingers, one by one, where Iwaizumi was obviously,
unmistakably interested in spending time with Oikawa. Iwaizumi couldn't have
faked it. But – that doesn't fit what he said, and Oikawa can tell, down to his
bones, that he wasn't faking that, either.
Oikawa leans forward, onto his knees, staring hard at the empty bench in front
of him.
Maybe Iwaizumi just wants to be friends. Maybe he knew what Oikawa wanted,
expected, and got angry and flustered when cornered, because he didn't know how
else to handle it.
Maybe he didn't get jealous, but disgusted. Oikawa's face heats slightly in
embarrassment at his behavior. Maybe Iwaizumi was turned completely off after
seeing Oikawa flirt with Arai's team.
Maybe he found someone else at Chuo University. At a club. Someone who is less
– Oikawa narrows his eyes, pinching up his mouth. Less Oikawa-y and more –
docile.
But no, he instinctively knows these aren't true, and this kind of self-pitying
contemplation does not suit Oikawa, he grows more and more frustrated with each
theory he tries on, and how they obviously do not fit.
The train makes a second stop, and Oikawa grimaces when he hears someone
stepping on board, for once in no mood for small talk.
"Yeah."
Christ.
In a defeated slump forward, Oikawa laughs softly, rubbing a hand down his
face.
Absurdly, impossibly, it's Kageyama.
Just a short, quiet little grunt of a noise, but there's no mistaking it.
"Yeah." Kageyama says again, on the phone, and when he gets close enough,
Oikawa can see that he's nodding along. "Yeah." Oikawa just barely makes out
I'll be waiting at the station... on the other line as Kageyama passes by. He
takes the seat across from Oikawa, finishes the call, pockets his phone and
settles in, and only then registers that he's not alone in the train.
He startles like a cat, then immediately stiffens, sitting up comically
straight.
After a moment of tense silence, Oikawa raising his eyebrow and Kageyama
staring at him with nothing but wary surprise, Oikawa relaxes. At least he
won't have to worry about small talk. Or manners, even. He closes his eyes as
the train starts moving again.
Tournaments are crowded, and usually filled with alphas, who are especially
potent in stressful situations, so it's been a while since he smelled Kageyama.
He catches the once familiar scent as the train keeps going, and it takes
Oikawa back in a vivid, uncomfortable, painful way. Battle wounds, ones
scratched deep into his very soul, start to wake back up, aching as they do,
delivered thoughtlessly, obliviously, by a boy who smells like spiced pears and
vanilla.
~
"Oi! First year!"
All six new players on Kitagawa Daiichi look up from the spike line.
"Eh – " Oikawa struggles to remember the name of the one with the especially
round head. "You."
It's Tobio, Kageyama Tobio, and he hurries over to Oikawa as soon as he
realizes he's being called.
"Yes! Oikawa-san!"
"I forgot," Oikawa says, tapping against his temple. "What part of the body do
we hit the ball with, again?"
Kageyama blinks. "Um," he frowns down at the ball in his hands, bouncing it
once, softly. "Fist?"
"Oh, so," Oikawa says, taking the ball from Kageyama. "Like this?"
He tosses the ball up, and snaps at his wrist, hitting the ball like a sharp
knock against a door. The ball arches weakly, dropping to the ground without
hitting the net. Kageyama watches intently, obviously seeing his own miserable
spike – he'd been preforming poorly in the first year spike line, his hits
limp. Long and clean, arching high over the net, no speed, an easy delivery for
the other team.
That's fine, generally, especially for a player fresh out of elementary school,
clearing the net regularly is really all they expect, and spiking with actual,
effective power isn't expected in a first year. But it had rubbed Oikawa the
wrong way – this first year is an omega, one of the few to actually apply for
the club, and one of the very few to hold his own with the rest. Like all
offensive moves, spiking is not a skill an omega can slack on if they can help
it – it's a weakness their enemies and future team members will be looking for
in him, a target to attack or an excuse to exclude.
"Hm," Oikawa says, waves to Iwaizumi for another ball from the cart. "Maybe
it'd be better if I hit the ball with all of my body."
This time when he spikes it, he tenses everything, from the coiling muscles in
his abdomen, to his shoulder, to his arm, feeding into his fist, which he slams
through the ball.
"Yes!" Kageyama says, watching where it lands, across the court and out of
bounds, then back to Oikawa, face lit up with excitement.
"So when you spike, you need to feel it here," Oikawa pokes Kageyama's stomach.
"Then your fist. Got it?"
"Yes! Thank you, Oikawa-senpai!" Kageyama bows and rushes back to the spike
line. Oikawa joins Iwaizumi at the cart, and the fire in Kageyama's face is so
intense it's comical.
"Oi, don't expect to become an expert if you're not trying to be on the left,"
Iwaizumi says, apparently seeing the same. "The only reason Oikawa can spike
like that is because he practiced the last three – "
Everyone on the court stops, staring at Kageyama's spike, which hits the court
so hard it pancakes on impact, zinging off into the wall.
"... years," Iwaizumi finishes.
"Like that?" Kageyama shouts, oblivious, pointing to the other side of the net,
where his spike landed.
Oikawa is perfectly, silently stunned.
Iwaizumi wasn't exaggerating. It took Oikawa years - years to develop his
spike. To understand it wasn't just strength, but form, too, and to polish it.
And Kageyama is obviously pleased with his performance, but clearly doesn't
grasp just how good it is. The team's attention is split between Oikawa and
Kageyama, and Oikawa knows he has to shove himself out of this stupor, but it's
hard to get the words off his tongue.
"Like that," Oikawa agrees, stiffly.
Kageyama smiles, taking it as praise. "One more??"
Oikawa throws him the ball, rougher than he probably should've - years. Years
he spent, hour after hour, bribing the third year setter to send him tosses
before and after practice - Kageyama's spike is off because of it, but still
powerful, and Oikawa steps back, letting Iwaizumi take over again.
Oikawa watches, trying to read the boy – was he faking, did he honestly improve
that fast? Oikawa doesn't see how it could be possible, but Kageyama moves with
utter obliviousness, and even thanks Oikawa again for his help at the end of
practice, bowing at the waist before running off.
It doesn't take long for Oikawa to realize the truth, and he already knows the
answer when he decides to confronts Kageyama, months later.
"Are you stupid, Tobio-chan?"
"I, uh – " Kageyama drops the ball he's holding, then scrambles to grab it. The
boy is not the most observant, but he must have noticed the growing tension
between Oikawa and himself, spooking easily when Oikawa approaches now, instead
of openly trusting. "There are… things I don't know?"
"Is that yes?"
"I – don't. Uhm," Kageyama says, his mouth screws up and he seems to be
honestly trying to figure out the answer.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock… I think your silence answers the question," Oikawa
places his ball on Kageyama's head, and spins it sharply, ruffling his hair as
it goes. Kageyama bats it away.
"Oi! Knock it off!" Iwaizumi slugs Oikawa in the shoulder as he passes, a
specific warning in his eyes – he knows about Oikawa's rising irritation with
this first year in particular.
"Sorry, sorry~" Oikawa says, looking at Iwaizumi as he pats the top of
Kageyama's head with a flat, open palm in apology.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and keeps going.
Oikawa doesn't mind, and truthfully, neither does Kageyama.
It had become obvious very, very quickly that Kageyama isn't capable of faking
anything. The boy is guileless, to the point of stupidity - to the point of
callousness, oblivious to how his intimidating strides in talent leave others
on the team hopelessly in the dust. They've already had two of the more
pragmatic first years quit after the practices shifted to serves, a notoriously
difficult skill for first years. Oikawa watched the two weaker players trying
to catch their breath on the sidelines, staring at Kageyama, who was unbothered
by the gloomy atmosphere, enthusiastically nailing everything but a jump serve.
Even if he had noticed, Oikawa doubts it would've even occurred to him to hold
back for the sake of their comfort. For anyone's comfort.
"I heard Coach Yoshino say he wanted to try you out as setter, Tobio-chan,"
Oikawa tells him, unable to share this fact with anyone else, not even
Iwaizumi, because he can't hide the furious agony in his voice, and literally
only Kageyama would be unable to hear it.
As expected, Kageyama misses Oikawa's tone and his eyes widen, inhaling deep in
his excitement.
"But," Oikawa says, pretending to think. "I've never met a stupid setter
before."
"I – I'll learn!" Kageyama says, not insulted, undeterred, fingers flexing
around the ball, a manic little smile on his face.
Oikawa stares down at Kageyama – who will not remember this moment outside of
the good news, while Oikawa will stay awake tonight, feeling it eating away at
him. Terrified.
~
With the train's bench occupied, Oikawa has moved his gaze to the pole in the
middle of the aisle, unlike Kageyama, who, as always is staring openly at
Oikawa.
Oikawa knows by now it's just something Kageyama does, he stares at Oikawa, and
it's not an attempt to be rude or unsettling, or even really get Oikawa's
attention. He just does it. The easiest option is to just ignore it, so Oikawa
keeps staring at the pole.
In a way, this is good. His mind had been spinning in fruitless, repetitive
circles, which have been completely derailed by Kageyama's distracting
presence, and Oikawa watches him out the corner of his eye, observing the
changes in Kageyama since the last time they met, almost a year ago. There were
signs Kageyama was evolving at Karasuno in ways Oikawa had not anticipated, at
least not so quickly, and looking at him now, it seems it's finally happened.
Kageyama has settled into himself, no longer the grimacing, gangly thing he
always transformed into off the court. Oikawa understands the regal comments
from the alphas, from Kageyama's posture and expression. It's distinctly
omegan, but with Kageyama's intimidating expression, it comes off as haughty,
unmistakably important. Adding his tendency to speak only when necessary off
the court, his aura becomes refined, mysterious elegance.
A person would have to know Kageyama very well to read that intimidating stare
as surly awkwardness. Have to know Kageyama as a junior high schooler, when he
was a failure as an omega and a failure as a setter. Strong social skills are
needed for both, according to most lines of thought. Where setters are meant to
serve their spikers, Kageyama was a gangly, bossy, stubborn king. Where omegas
are meant to be graceful swans, Kageyama was a gangly, bossy, stubborn ostrich.
And yet Iwaizumi kept his charm... Oikawa thoughts find their center again,
back to the uselessly spinning circles.
But, maybe that's it.
Maybe truly and ridiculously, all the secret, stupid insecurities Oikawa
carried from junior to high school were real – that he will be made obsolete,
one centimeter at a time, by Kageyama Tobio. It was Kageyama who beat
Shiratorizawa, who made it to nationals, and maybe next on the list is
Iwaizumi's heart.
Oikawa laughs softly at what is easily the most indulgently dramatic answer
he's come up with so far.
"Do you have an alpha, Tobio-chan?"
Kageyama blinks once at the sudden question. "No."
"Mmm," Oikawa nods, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. "Do you have a
crush on anyone? Betas? Alphas? In your classes? On your team?"
Kageyama blinks again.
"Of course not," Oikawa says for him. Of course not, Tooru. "Must be nice."
Oikawa imagines the bliss that must be Kageyama's utterly blank mind while off
the court. Talking to Kageyama can be relaxing, the way Oikawa imagines talking
to a pet would be. As long as it's not volleyball related, his expression stays
judgment free and passive. "Remember asking me to teach you to serve?"
Now, Kageyama's expression darkens in suspicion. Waiting for a trap. "Yes."
"Iwa-chan got so mad at me for that," Oikawa sighs.
"Iwaizumi-san is always mad at you," Kageyama says, apparently without thinking
because he immediately flinches, and diverts his gaze.
"True enough." Oikawa tips his head back against the chair, closing his eyes.
Kageyama would certainly know, Iwaizumi was probably his roughest with Oikawa
in junior high, very hands on, shoving and punching. It was as though a switch
had been flipped when they went to high school, where Iwaizumi suddenly took a
step back, only smacking Oikawa when deliberately provoked. At the time, Oikawa
had assumed it was because Iwaizumi had realized that Oikawa was an omega, and
been annoyed by it – then hopeful.
Well, he'd certainly provoked Iwaizumi tonight.
Oikawa frowns as he remembers Iwaizumi's seething face outside the club, his
clenched fists, his hunched shoulders... He groans, and presses his palm
against his forehead. "But I've never seen him angry like that."
Kageyama, helpfully, says nothing.
Iwaizumi's anger is always active, moving. Fixing, stopping, avenging. He's
never – frozen. In anger. Oikawa frowns deeper, almost scowling, going over it
again, feeling like a child with a puzzle, trying to piece it together, because
there is something off, something working at the back of his mind that he can't
quite place.
It's not that he's never seen Iwaizumi freeze up like that. First year – when
all of Iwaizumi's spikes got blocked out, and he was almost pulled from the
regular line up. When he had to give a speech in full English and still hadn't
memorized it the night before the due date. When he broke his father's power
drill. When his father got sick enough he had a three day stay in the hospital.
When he's afraid.
Iwaizumi is.. afraid... of Oikawa? No. He's afraid of – what he was saying
about Oikawa.
Oikawa blinks. Afraid that Oikawa throws people away, and that Oikawa was –
throwing him away, afraid, because –
he –
loves –
Oikawa. It's a realization that hits like a lightning bolt, adrenaline tingling
up Oikawa's spine, to his finger tips. Oikawa had been so focused on his own
ridiculous insecurities, he had forgotten about Iwaizumi's, and it all snaps
together instantly – Oikawa's words must have seemed like a taunt – definitely
not my alpha! to Iwaizumi was outright rejection, not a question. The dancing
was genuine interest. "That's fun?", the sick look on his face when Oikawa said
yes.
Oikawa's mind is spinning, he goes over the night again with this theory in
mind, and it fits, entirely, the only outlier being the texts, which.
Oikawa always knew didn't actually mean anything to Iwaizumi, the fucker.
Oikawa almost laughs out loud, feeling brilliant for the epiphany, though he
knows there's literally no one he could share it with who wouldn't respond with
a blank, unsurprised, 'and...?'
Except, of course, Iwaizumi.
"Is – Iwaizumi-san your alpha?"
Oikawa couldn't have been more surprised if it was the seat beneath Kageyama
that asked.
"Well, that would be telling," Oikawa says, in a far better mood than he was
not five seconds ago. He's smiling, now, cocking his head to the side, feeling
light and almost giddy from the sudden happiness, after months and months of
slowly building doubts. "What makes you ask?"
"You asked about alphas," Kageyama says, glancing to the side. "Then you talked
about Iwaizumi-san."
"Very observant," Oikawa says.
Despite all the awkward years and insults and rivalry, the praise seems to
actually mean something to Kageyama. He raises his eyebrows in surprise,
sitting up slightly straighter. "And – "
Oikawa raises an eyebrow, feeling very generous and patient now, even with
Kageyama.
"He… seemed like he would be," Kageyama finishes lamely, losing courage.
"Mm," he says, looking out the window at the approaching station.
They're still in the heart of Osaka, the train stopping every few blocks, but
the next stop will be the last before a long ride north. Oikawa taps his knee,
and has just decided that he really can't wait for tomorrow, or even an hour.
He's getting off at this stop and heading back to the bar and resolve this,
when they stop and the doors open.
"Hey, I just met you! And this is crazy! But here's my number – " The voice is
loud, the English is poor, but it still isn't enough to prepare Oikawa for the
sudden collective shout from about eight alphas boarding the train –
"So call me maybe!!!"
It dissolves from there, the whole group shouting different parts of the song
or just mumbling, which Oikawa ignores as he checks his phone for messages – of
course none – and considers texting Iwaizumi to wait –
"You took you time with call! I took time with fall!"
"Shut up, Arai!" two of them shout at once, laughing.
Oikawa double takes.
Sarayashiki?? Impossibly, the entire team is on the train, a little messier
than they were at the club, half empty beer bottles in their hands. The group
spots him at the exact same moment, freezing, then shouting over each other –
"Tooru-san!!"
"Pretty setter-chan!!!"
How did they get to this stop so fast?? A glance at his phone shows they've
been riding for at least twenty minutes. "You were just - how – ?"
"We took a taxi to karaoke in Nishishinsaibashi."
"And got kicked out after the first song," #3 glares at Arai.
Arai laughs, shameless as ever, pointing as he sings, "Where you think you
goin' baby! We can have our dance now, right?!"
"Sorry," Oikawa says, waving them off, stepping out of the train. "I have other
alphas to charm."
A collective, exaggerated groan of disappointment from the group.
"Well, Pretty setter-chan can go if he wants," says #7. "We got baby setter-
chan to keep us company."
Oikawa stops, one foot on the platform, looking over his shoulder.
Kageyama glares up at the lot of them, but doesn't seem especially bothered,
attempting to untangle the strings on his hoodie, which Oikawa only just
notices is oversized, loose, and combined with his shorts from his uniform, is
an enticing tease that the alphas clearly noticed, eyeing him up and down.
"Bye-bye, Tooru-san!!" another one laughs. The door chimes, a warning that it's
about to close, instructing Oikawa to clear the doorway.
~
Kitagawa Daiichi lost nine third years at the end of last season, and four of
them were regulars.
Three promising first years ended up in the regular rotation: an alpha, beta,
and omega. They're a matched set, too, all tall and lanky, with piercing eyes
and dark hair. In a way it's pleasing, especially how they tend to stick
together, huddled close during practices and meetings, though that might be out
of nerves more than anything else.
The team is traveling home after an away game, and the bus is quiet, nearly
everyone dropping into an exhausted sleep. Oikawa doesn't know how long he was
asleep when he wakes up, slumped onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, the first years
behind him very awake, and in the middle of what sounds like a very serious
debate.
"I only like girls," Kunimi is saying. "But alphas or betas or omages are fine.
I don't care."
"Hmm," Kindaichi says, thoughtfully. "My father says you don't know which
classification you like until you're older… but I think I'll just like alphas.
They're easier."
"Both of your parents are alphas?" Kageyama asks.
"Yeah," Kindaichi says. "What about you?"
"My mom's an alpha," Kageyama says.
"No, dumbass. What do you like? Boys or girls or what?"
"Oh," Kageyama says, and there's a beat of silence.
Kunimi snorts. "It's not a math problem. What do you like?"
"Uh..."
"I heard most omegas like alphas," Kindaichi says, using an especially
authoritative voice. "So that's probably what you'll like."
Oikawa smiles into the collar of his jacket, not bothering to open his eyes.
The first years are still relatively new, and somewhat tense around Oikawa,
usually trying to impress him whenever they can, so this is the first time he's
heard them speak together so candidly, and he can't help finding it cute.
"I already know what Tobio-kun likes," says a first year from across the aisle.
"Volleyballs."
Kindaichi and Kunimi snicker lightly. "When he gets his first heat, I bet he's
gonna make a whole nest out of them."
"I bet he hides volleyballs under his bed already!"
"Shut up!"
Oikawa finally opens his eyes, lifting himself from Iwaizumi's warmth and
looking between the seats.
Kageyama is glaring, face screwed up into an angry little scowl, flushing
miserably.
"Oikawa-san!" Kindaichi says when he spots his stare. Oikawa winces at being
caught, then slides up to his knees, turning to face them properly. Kageyama
shifts his glare to the window, shoulders hitched up defensively.
"Which do you like Tooru-san?" Oritsume, the first year across the aisle, asks.
"Alphas?"
"Nope, all kinds!" Oikawa says, giving a peace sign.
"Even other omegas?"
"Of course," he says, smiling, remembering some of the sweeter, cuter omegas
he's met.
"When did you realize you liked all of them?" Kindaichi asks. "How could you
tell?"
"E-eh… " Oikawa glances across the aisle and sees the rest of the first years
have woken up from all the fuss and are watching intently now, hungry for this
bit of knowledge. He sweats, struggling to come up with an answer that will
sound impressive and wise. Though – he glances down at Iwaizumi, who is still
asleep, and will probably remain so unless a mach truck hits the bus. His
answer will not be graded for accuracy, then.
The truth isn't terribly helpful as far as Oikawa knows it – he actually
realized his preferences very early on. He's never had a shortage of admirers,
and he imagines it's a bit easier to figure out what one likes when they're
being actively pursued. He knows this isn't particularly helpful for Kindaichi
or the rest of them, though.
"Your body already knows what you like," he finally says, finger in the air as
he speaks. "You just have to pay attention to what it's telling you! Soon your
biggest problem will be figuring out who your mate is, not what they are!"
Oikawa is feeling particularly pleased with this response, smiling to himself
at the impressed gazes of his kohai, and his eyes happen to drift toward the
window Kageyama is staring out.
The defensive hitch of Kageyama's shoulders has relaxed. He's meeting Oikawa's
gaze in the reflection, his face openly grateful, mouth going wobbly with it.
It disarms Oikawa, and he sits down abruptly, re-buckling his seatbelt.
As if – Oikawa had interrupted the conversation to rescue Kageyama from the
teasing! Of course not! And if Kageyama got confused, then he really is stupid,
Oikawa tells himself furiously. Dumber than even Oikawa guessed!
He tries to leave it there, but is unable to explain the heat on his own
cheeks, or forget the look on Kageyama's face, and is in a terribly huffy mood
the rest of the ride.
~
Oikawa gives a frustrated, agonized snarl, his very soul screeching in
annoyance, and turns around, stomping back onto the train.
"Change your mind about that dance?!"
Oikawa ignores Arai, pointing at Kageyama. "Best case scenario, you just cost
me two hours," he says, darkly.
Kageyama glares back, affronted, as if he actually knows what Oikawa is talking
about.
"Same – to you!"
Oikawa rolls his eyes and sits down heavily, crossing his arms.
A forty minute train ride north, sixty minute train ride east, assuming
Iwaizumi is already on his way back to Chou. Oikawa feels like he's entitled to
add another twenty, due to the sheer unfairness of the situation.
The train is gaining speed, and though they're sticking to themselves on the
other side of the car, the energy Sarayashiki gives off is palpable. A
crackling, buzzing, annoying thing, filling the entire train, just the same as
their scents, the kind of energy found in locker rooms and summer camp cabins –
unsupervised, enthusiastic stupidity.
Well, Oikawa reasons, so annoyed he can feel his eyebrow twitching. He
basically agreed to chaperone a group of high schoolers earlier tonight, so
maybe it's a bit of karmatic justice that he finds himself in a train full of
them regardless.
"Hey. Arai."
It's a poorly hidden whisper - #6 is holding his gym bag, nodding down toward
it, smiling suggestively.
Arai peers inside, and gives a loud, amused guffaw.
The rest of the team starts gathering, huddling around the bag, snickering to
each other and – disconcertingly – giving repeated glances up at Oikawa and
Kageyama.
Oikawa has pulled out his phone and is scrolling, bobbing his foot, trying to
give the impression of being unconcerned with whatever giddy business is
happening over there. More alcohol, maybe. Drugs? Porn?
Whatever it is, if this had been a normal train with only few more stops,
Oikawa knows his presence would've been enough to discourage any stupid alpha
rowdiness, but as the train continues on, and on, he can practically smell
their excitement about ramping up, growing bolder, and it's only a matter of
time before one of them says something stupid -
"Kageyama Tobio," says #3, suddenly.
Kageyama slides his eyes from where he'd been staring at Oikawa – again – to
the speaker.
"… Yeah?"
"You got an alpha?"
Kageyama puffs out his cheeks slightly, obviously annoyed with the same
question twice in one night. "No."
"Thought so," #3 says. "No self-respecting alpha would let their omega run
around on a court like you did today."
"Hey, don't be rude," Arai says. "I think it was an honor to play against
Tooru-san's kohai." He makes a show of bowing at the waist to Kageyama, who
stares, both unimpressed and confused. "Too bad it was such a short game!"
Kageyama's eyes flit over the rest of them, still impassive. "You'll have to
practice harder if you want to get to a third set next year."
The entire team's expression darkens, and Oikawa has to bite his cheek to keep
the smirk from his face, which is imperative, because, as he guessed,
Kageyama's eyes slide right back to Oikawa.
"Hey, Tobio-kun," #6 says, in a much friendlier voice. "I got a gift for my
omega when I was in the city. What do you think?"
Oikawa watches with building annoyance as #6 approaches, crossing the
unofficial no-man's land that had existed between the two omegas on one side,
and the cluster of alphas on the other. He holds open his bag for Kageyama to
peer inside.
"Uh." Both his tone and expression are nothing but blank confusion, which is
hilarious to #6.
"Think she'll like it?" he asks, shaking with laughter, while #8 comes over,
followed by #2.
"It's.. good," Kageyama says, woodenly, eyes tracking the other two as they
move closer, and they have to be third years. Like the rest of Sarayashiki,
they're impressively tall and solid, and it feels like #8 is making a show of
this, taking up as much space as possible when he lifts his foot up, resting it
on the bench beside him. Now Kageyama's getting a little nervous. Oikawa slowly
locks his phone, tucking it away, watching.
"Wanna touch it?" #2 asks.
'Touch it' is suggestive, blatantly so, enough to ping on even Kageyama's
radar. He stands, backing away, but #2 and #8 predicted this and he bumps into
their bulk, trapped. Oikawa is already on his feet, recognizing the deliberate
move they're pulling, and it's telling him that this isn't a game, and it needs
to be stopped.
"What, you don't want my opinion?"
The alphas glance up in delighted surprise when Oikawa approaches, and part for
him without a fight. Oikawa shoves Kageyama lightly as he passes, pushing him
just a step or two away from the alphas. He keeps his expression smooth and
unbothered, but this becomes difficult to maintain when he glances into the bag
and sees what's inside, the thing Kageyama had been unable to identify – lumpy
and obscene, and he's not surprised Kageyama hadn't recognized it, the knot at
the end is as big as a fist, and it's so long it looks more like a fat, floppy
sword.
A dildo.
Oikawa blinks, rapidly, can feel the blush on his face, and can't look away
long enough to see the alphas cracking up at his reaction.
Oikawa chokes on a forced laugh, unable to get it out.
Oikawa knows how to work people. He knows how to work alphas in particular, but
looking at the manic excitement in the team's faces as they see his discomfort,
he knows he's not going to be able to redirect this.
The realities of his situation hit him one at a time: He misjudged. Terribly.
Looking past their ages, their teams, their schools - Oikawa is outnumbered by
alphas significantly larger than himself, unable to escape for the better part
of an hour, with no real help. Even sober and on the court, getting Sarayashiki
to see him or Kageyama as anything other than prey would be a tedious, uphill
battle, and an outright impossibility now.
Oikawa can turn into the tailspin, though, use the momentum already working
against him - carefully, not too much, nothing to escalate the situation.
"Tch," he says, so unimpressed it's almost playful, crossing his arms, raising
his chin. "Typical disgusting alphas."
They perk at his tone. The game it promises.
"Apologize to my kohai, and behave yourself."
"Sorry," they laugh. "Sorry, Tobio-kun!"
Kageyama is staring again, clearly wanting to ask what that was all about, what
the thing in the bag was, but he barely starts the question before he yelps in
surprise, "Wha – hey!"
"If you're not into toys," says #7, a quiet, unassuming alpha with a scent so
faint Oikawa hadn't even noticed him approaching, is directly behind Kageyama,
hand on his wrist. "Maybe you'll be more into the real deal instead."
#7 tugs Kageyama's hand toward his crotch, and Oikawa's eyes widen at the
vulgarity, while Kageyama explodes, of course, yanking himself free, shoving #7
away. Oikawa can only watch, as, like a house of cards collapsing, Kageyama
stumbles into #8, an especially large first year who smells like fresh tobacco,
and isn't one to waste an opportunity, apparently. He braces Kageyama with a
hand on the ass, and a good, hard squeeze.
Oikawa has to jump back to avoid getting smacked when Kageyama flails, shoving
his balled up fists into #8's jaw – more of a shove than a punch – scrambling
away.
That gets the entire group's attention, and they're rushing at once from the
other side of the car, shouting protests. It takes Oikawa a moment to realize
it's aimed at #8 himself, and there's real concern on their faces.
"Calm down!!"
"Stay cool man," #2 says, "He's just scared – "
There's a lot of shoving and grabbing, but the other alphas fail to get #8
under control. He has Kageyama by his collar, yanks him back, flinging him into
the wall with a disconcertingly hollow thud.
"Wanna try that again? Omega?"
Kageyama gasps once, air knocked out of his chest. The sound of his desperate
gasping inhale is awful, awful, and Oikawa's fairly sure he's more concerned
about the situation than Kageyama himself when he glares, looking manic, and
wheezes out, "Yes!"
Alphas don't hit omegas. They just don't. Shoving Kageyama against the wall is
one thing, but no part of Oikawa is expecting the CRACK when #8 swings, a full,
solid punch.
"Dude!" #6 moans in shocked disapproval, and Kageyama's head flies to the side.
A beat later and blood starts dripping down Kageyama's upper lip, nose bloody.
The alpha tries to move in close again, and Kageyama still does not relent,
putting both hands on #8's face, shoving him away with all his strength,
breathing hard, spitting out something angry between clenched teeth. When #8's
hand starts creeping up Kageyama's shirt again, Kageyama pulls back his fist
and slams it into #8's throat.
#8 chokes, dropping to one knee, gasping for air.
The other alphas take a step back, apparently realizing there's no saving
Kageyama at this point. #3, who apparently shares the same sort of cruel,
vindictive streak as #8, grabs Kageyama, throws him to the floor of the train,
knee on his back, grinding his heel into the back of Kageyama's hand. "Wonder
how well you'd set with broken fingers?"
It's the very specific nature of the threat that makes Oikawa realize that he's
actually still on the train, watching this happen, and that he has frozen
completely.
"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, over the ruckus. "Come here."
He pointedly does not yell, and it works, silence falling as everyone turns to
look at him.
Oikawa ignores them, crossing his arms and focusing on Kageyama, who is panting
for breath, expression frantic, terrified, blood pouring freely from his nose
and smeared across his lips and chin, face pressed into the dirty floor of the
train.
Eventually, #3 relents. He takes a knee off Kageyama's back, his foot off his
hand. Kageyama scrambles to his feet, cradling his wounded fingers.
"Oikawa-san."
It's a quiet, uncertain, terrified question, and it's ridiculous. It's
ridiculous! The open look on Kageyama's face, looking for or direction or
rescue in Oikawa's. Oikawa remembers Kageyama ridiculously seeking out advice,
not long ago, about how to handle his freak quick. How he'd been certain Oikawa
could solve his problem. This is that, the same unthinking trust, though a more
desperate version, and Oikawa tightens his jaw, doing his best to ignore it,
because of course it's annoying, and sincerity will only be a painful
distraction at the moment.
Oikawa makes a show of tsking at the bloody mess on Kageyama's face. "Give me a
towel."
When none of them react, he raises an eyebrow at Arai. Arai is quick, stumbling
in his hurry, reaching for his gym bag, pulling out an extra towel and handing
it over.
"Here, Tooru-san."
Oikawa takes it, and dabs the blood on Kageyama's face, sees the wound is not
just a bloody nose, there's two sluggishly bleeding cuts from the actual impact
of the punch itself, on his upper lip and on the left side of his nose.
#8 did not hold back.
"Can you count, Tobio-chan?" he asks quietly enough that only Kageyama can
hear.
Kageyama stiffens.
"Did you really think you were going to beat them all?" Oikawa asks. "When I've
never even seen you beat Chibi-chan?"
"I habe!" Kageyama says, voice coming out thick and weird because of his bloody
nose, which makes him look especially feral, and especially desperate. But he
drops the argument there, closing his eyes in furious humiliation as Oikawa
tips his head back.
"The car's not going to stop for another forty minutes," Oikawa reminds him.
"We're stuck."
"So?"
"So," Oikawa says, voice still cool, and soft. "They want to fuck us."
Kageyama recoils, expression contorting hard enough to renew the bleeding from
his nose. He winces, and Oikawa grabs a clean portion of the towel, and tips
Kageyama's head back again.
"Don't fight them," Oikawa says, watching the alphas over his shoulder. Outside
of #3 and #8, they look guilty, rubbing at the back of their necks and scuffing
at the floor, but the restless eagerness is still there, strong as ever. The
remorse is not going to last a full ride.
Kageyama has been thoroughly spooked by Oikawa's words and is staring,
terrified. Amusingly, Oikawa finds himself going into game mode in response,
considering the situation with that steel, impartial core running through him.
The train is a court. The enemy is alphas. Through some bizarre twist of fate
and some bad decisions, Oikawa and Kageyama are on the same team. The two of
them will be overpowered and crushed if they try to fight one on one. They need
a different strategy.
"Just follow your senpai's lead, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, voice chipper,
tapping him on the nose again, gently. "O.K.?"
"Is he okay?" #5 asks.
"What do you think!" Oikawa says, dramatically shaking the bloody cloth in
their direction. "I'm definitely not going to play if you're breaking my toys."
Arai and #2 both slug #8's shoulders, angrily.
"Sorry," he mutters.
"I'm not," #3 says, watching Kageyama with a little sneer.
"You're just embarrassed he got over your block," #7 says.
"And got in all those dumps."
Ah. That's a familiar frustration – the sound of the ball hitting the ground,
just out of reach, looking up and seeing your opponent staring down their nose
at you. Oikawa's felt it multiple times, and when it happens, over, and over,
and over, in one game it can get nearly murderous. He wonders how much more
intense it must have been for #3 to look up and see smaller, omega, second year
Kageyama's haughty expression, and suddenly, his threat to break Kageyeama's
fingers isn't actually that surprising.
Can he keep #3 from Kageyama?
Oikawa considers the rest of Sarayashiki. He's fairly sure they wouldn't
support the violence, but they were unable to stop both #3 and #8 from getting
too rough before. #3 is still focused on Kageyama with more intensity than
anyone else in the car, Oikawa doubts a distraction will work – he clearly
feels personally slighted by the game. No, Oikawa decides, he can't. #3 will
almost certainly get his hands on Kageyama again before they get off the train.
"Why don't you apologize, Tobio-chan?"
"For whad?" Kageyama demands, angrily.
"For not knowing your place as an omega!" #3 says.
Kageyama looks to Oikawa in confusion.
"Yes," Oikawa says. "That."
"I – sorry?" he says, but it sounds more like a question.
"We're both sorry," Oikawa says. "For disrespecting your game."
"Y-yeah," Kageyama's voice is barely more than a grunt, but he bows slightly.
"Sorry."
#3 considers them, and after a beat looks pacified, nodding back gruffly.
Oikawa feels a small, uncomfortable knot of tension he hadn't fully been aware
of forming – when he watched Kageyama's bloody face slammed into the floor of
the train – loosen just a bit. Oikawa assumes #3 will do something else before
the ride is over but, at least – at least, Oikawa's reasonably sure it won't be
that.
Obviously, #8 is the biggest concern after that – he seems cowed for now, but
Oikawa doubts it will stick, and doubts there is anything he'll be able to do
to prevent that. At best, he's someone to keep an eye on.
Next in intensity is Arai, but he seems entirely focused on Oikawa, and he can
deal with that himself as it comes.
#6, the one with the bag, seems to think this is entertaining, nothing more
than a nice night out – seems to be how most of Sarayashiki sees it – which
could go either way, but Oikawa thinks will be easy to redirect.
Oikawa takes a breath, shakes off his nerves, and it's Iwaizumi's sure,
encouraging voice in his head, Don't mind, don't mind! He can get through this.
It's that #7 approaching first though, something about him seems so mild, even
down to his light, powdery, floral scent, that he keeps escaping Oikawa's
attention.
Kageyama grabs his own wrist and holds it to his chest as #7 gets nearer,
backing away in a probably unconscious movement behind Oikawa.
"Hey, sorry about that idiot over there," #7 says, smiling placidly, nodding
toward #8. "How can I make it up to you?"
"You can go away," Kageyama snarls.
"Tsk," says #2, sadly. "He's all timid now. Good job, dumbass."
"Hey," #7 says to Kageyama, "Are you still wearing your uniform under that?
Cause I'd really like to see it again, it's super cute."
Kageyama blanches, yanking the hoodie down further. Though it's optional, both
Oikawa and Kageyama wear the traditional omega uniform, which is just a bit
tighter than the standard alpha and beta one, and sleeveless. It's nothing
particularly special but some alphas lose their minds for it.
It looks like #7 is one of them, eyeing the slip of Kageyama's shorts that he
can see, just below Kageyama's hoodie.
"What can we do to get you out of this hoodie, huh?" #6 asks, and Oikawa's arm
flies out, blocking Kageyama from them as much as he can, which is, of course,
not at all.
"How about you?"
Oikawa jumps, startled, so focused on #7 that he hadn't noticed Arai sliding up
beside him. He positions himself close, nearly chest to chest with Oikawa, and
Oikawa is forced to take a step back, a step away from both Arai and Kageyama.
Arai grins, following, arm planting on the wall above Oikawa's head.
"What can we do to get you out of those jeans?"
It's an act of will to keep his tone teasing rather than mocking - resentment
is restless under his skin. It's not often Oikawa is physically outmatched, at
least so completely. He doesn't mind playing a role when he wants to, but being
forced to sets his teeth on edge. "You couldn't afford it, I'm afraid."
Arai bites his lip, arousal visibly traveling through him. "But it's gonna be
hard to make you feel good with all this stuff in the way," he says, rubbing
the side of Oikawa's jacket between his fingers.
"Mm-hm," Oikawa says, unimpressed. "And what exactly would you do to make me
feel good?"
"Fuck, Oikawa," Arai laughs. "You're so fucking hot. I'm gonna make you feel so
good, it's gonna last all night – "
Oikawa scoffs. "Just how far away do you think the next stop is?"
He realizes the misstep as soon as it's out of his mouth.
"Then we better hurry," Arai smiles, boldly moving in close, like he had on the
dance floor, forcing his thigh between Oikawa's, forcing him up onto the balls
of his feet, his large hands moving to the button of Oikawa's jeans and on
reflex Oikawa grabs his hand, stilling it.
Arai raises an eyebrow. "Is Tooru-san shy?"
Oikawa licks his lips, staring down. It could ruin the game, it could give up
the control Oikawa's been given, the dangling carrot the alphas have agreed to
perform for.
"I, uh," Oikawa says, hating how childish his voice sounds. "I don't really
want to... "
"Hey, that's fine," Arai says, almost gentle. "Trust me, you'll want it by the
time I'm through."
Oikawa grimaces. Well, it wasn't as if he actually thought it would work. It's
an embarrassing loss of composure, though, and he feels his cheeks heat from
hearing his own weak, stupid words, far more than the thick fingers trying to
get past the band of his pants.
"Come on," Arai says, cajoling, running big hands up Oikawa's sides, coming to
rest on his hips, pressing his thumbs in the dips there greedily. "We can keep
the zipper up, eh? Just the button, Tooru-san."
It's not like it's an actual choice. The next time Arai goes for the fastens of
his pants, Oikawa allows his hand to be pushed away, and Arai undoes the
button.
"Mmmm!" the noise is coming more out of Arai's throat than mouth, an
undignified and excited moan. "Black! Black, elegant panties!"
"Tobio-kun's are white!" one of them shouts back, and Oikawa's heart goes up to
his throat, leaning hard to the side to see around Arai –
#2 has Kageyama in his lap, holding him there in a sort of hug, trapping
Kageyama's arms. Despite being told not to fight, he clearly did, and Oikawa
can see the beginning of what will be a nasty black eye, the slit of Tobio's
left eye glassy, just starting to swell, his lip bleeding.
He's managed to keep his hoodie, but his shorts are hanging off one ankle.
Oikawa stares, until he's distracted by Arai's hand, sliding down the back of
his pants, squeezing his ass once before sliding between the cheeks. Oikawa's
jaw clenches, and he feels a second set of hands – not Arai – he looks over his
shoulder. #5. Both of his hands are sliding up Oikawa's shirt.
"Let's show your senpai your cute panties," #7 says, Oikawa stops squirming at
that, looking up again to see the alpha wink, and lift one of Kageyama's
thighs, spreading his legs. Kageyama kicks wildly, but can't cover the simple
white underwear that the alphas are so fascinated by.
"Nnng. Smells so good!! I could just drink it up!!" #7 says, bending down
between Kageyama's thighs, opening his mouth like he's about to lick Kageyama
through the fabric, and Kageyama freezes completely, eyes blanked out in
horror.
"Oi!!!" Oikawa says, instinctively, and to his relief #7 stops and looks over
his shoulder. "I- I didn't give you permission for that, did I?"
"Permission – "
"No, no," Oikawa says, wagging his finger, not hearing it. "That's my k-kohai,
and you're going to ruin all my work."
"You mean he's a virgin?"
"He's –" Oikawa's breath catches. He grabs at #5's wrist at his chest, where
fingers working at his nipples have become a distraction he can't ignore
anymore, circling then flicking in a way that's sending strange energy through
his gut, to his crotch. He yanks the hand down, but it immediately starts
traveling back up, undeterred, and Oikawa winces, this time from Arai. He's
pressing his thighs together, but Arai's fingers are still pushing between his
legs, rubbing, prodding, and he shudders. "He's a g-good boy. Right Tobio-chan?
Now – " ah. He clears his throat. "Come back to your senpai."
He's released slowly, and Kageyama stumbles away, kicking his shorts off and to
the side.
"Are you alright?" Kageyama asks quietly, which is odd, until Oikawa realizes
his eyes are shut and he's panting. Fuck. He's – he's getting slick, already.
It's dripping onto Arai's fingers, and he's spreading it all around the
sensitive areas between his legs, sloppy and sticky and wet. Oikawa ducks his
head, bracing himself, trying to gather his thoughts. He's done this to
himself, he's imagined others doing it, primarily Iwaizumi, but it's never
actually happened, and he never – knew – what it actually felt like. Fuck. It's
good.
"I'm good."
"He's very good," #5 says. "You wanna know how good?"
"No," Arai says. His finger is at Oikawa's slick entrance, and he slides in,
smiling that wide, shit eating grin. "Let his senpai show him."
"Yeah! Let's see you work on your kohai!" #7 says.
Oikawa grimaces, trying to ignore the fingers on him, in him. Kageyama is
staring, mouth a terrified, pinched up line, tugging uncomfortably at his
hoodie, dried blood smeared on his face, one eye swelling, the other wide in
fear. The choice is to let the alphas who did all that touch him more, or touch
him himself.
Fine. Oikawa cups the back of Kageyama's head and brings him in closer.
Kageyama doesn't fight, at all, allowing his head to tip back, his lips limp
and unresisting when Oikawa presses his own against them.
It's bloody. Kageyama's lips are chapped, and quiver in fear beneath his. It's
a nightmare, a parody, but the train goes silent, the hands on Oikawa grow
still, as the alpha's watch, entranced.
Fine.
Oikawa tilts his head to deepen the kiss, hears an excited swear from the
alphas watching, and Kageyama grabs Oikawa's shirt at his shoulders, bracing
himself and giving off a high, confused little whine, only slightly audible in
the near silent car. He doesn't pull away, though, and opens his mouth,
slightly. His split lip bleeds into Oikawa's mouth.
Slowly, the hands between Oikawa's legs start teasing again, pushing in, Oikawa
ignores it until he can't, until his hips are rocking back for it, for the
fingers hitting – fuck, oh fuck – hitting there. Oikawa breaks the kiss, biting
his lip, ducking his head onto Kageyama's shoulder.
"Fuck."
"Oikawa-san?" Kageyama asks, concerned, his grip on Oikawa's shirt tightening,
hands splaying out over the back of his neck protectively.
"Hey, why isn't he presenting?" #5 asks, pouting, his fingers wet with spit as
he continues to rub Oikawa's nipples, a sort of maddening, teasing pleasure.
"Huh. I donno. He's definitely into it," Arai says, and pulls his fingers free
from Oikawa's hole, showing off the slick to the rest of them.
That – the smell, probably, Oikawa's unique scent, unmistakably aroused – is
what finally makes Kageyama realize what's being done to Oikawa, the extent of
it. He leans back in shock, blinking as a blush rises quickly up his face.
Humiliation is a dark, rotting weed in Oikawa's gut, the roots digging deep,
coiling around all his important parts, squeezing tighter at the smooth, warm
slide of slick dripping down his thigh, soaking his pants.
But it is a good question.
Oikawa isn't sure why he isn't presenting. An omega reacts to an alpha's
interest, can't help it anymore than an alpha to an omega's heat. Sometimes if
an omega has already mated and has an especially strong bond it won't happen,
but Oikawa never mated with Iwaizumi. Maybe it's the fact that there's eight
alphas here, too many for his body to process? He can barely make sense of all
the smells, let alone hook on to one.
"We'll just have to make them feel even better," #6 decides, as easy as that,
wrapping his arms around Kageyama's middle. "Let's see if we can get you as wet
as Tooru-san."
"Hey – " Kageyama protests, but it's cut off as #7 and #2 step in, helping
restrain Kageyama, and blocking him from view.
Oikawa gives an instinctive bid for freedom, but Arai and #5 have him, #6
joining in, sliding off Oikawa's jacket, but with the speed Arai is working his
insides, thrusting in and out in a very distinct, primal rhythm, it makes it
very hard for Oikawa to care about that, or his jeans, finally yanked down his
legs, his wet underwear pulled off and immediately pocketed by #6, humming as
he does.
Arai has more room now, his fingers move harder, faster, and Oikawa moans
before he can stop himself, arching his back as he loses the ability to hold
himself upright. #6 braces his weight, laughing lightly.
"Cute, Tooru-san."
"Hey, omegas have a better sense of smell than alphas, right?" he asks.
Oikawa doesn't answer, thighs shaking from the effort to keep from spreading
them.
"Can you smell it, then? Tobio-kun?"
Can he? It's hard. There are a lot of alphas. Oikawa blinks, scenting a new one
for the first time – musky and raw, almost sour. It's #4, who sits alone,
stone-faced in the corner, arms wrapped around his legs, obviously trying to
ignore the madness around him. And then. Yes. Pears. Kageyama.
Kageyama's aroused. #6 steps aside, and flicks #7, so Oikawa can get a view.
He's finally lost his hoodie, but is still in his uniform top, underwear and
socks. No new injuries that Oikawa can spot, for once, but his face is a
brighter red than it's been all night.
"Ah – ah – " Kageyama pants, voice pitched high in fear, head hanging, face
obscured by his hair. Fingers are moving busy beneath his uniform, at his chest
and between his legs, in quick, deliberate, repeated motions, and Kageyama
sounds like he's in the middle of painful work out, sweating and shaking, and
whining. His lips are pressed together in a shaking, wobbly line, and there's
the occasional spasm against the arms holding him, still fighting, before
finally tensing all over with a sob, hips snapping as he comes. The alphas keep
fondling him, and Kageyama cries out openly, tugging his arms and legs, trying
to wiggle free.
Finally, the hands at his wrists let go, and Kageyama stumbles forward on
wobbling legs, but makes it one step before he simply drops to the floor, onto
his ass, legs giving out.
It's quiet for a long beat, then Kageyama sniffles once, the noise especially
thick because of the blood. His eyes are covered by his forearm, but Oikawa can
see the way his mouth trembles, his other hand in a tight, furious fist. Tears
start streaming down his face, cutting into the dried blood, and Oikawa finds
himself growing - cold at the sight.
"Okay," he says, trying to fight free of #6 and Arai's grip, voice shaking with
manic anger. "That was fun. So let's just take it easy for the rest of the
ride."
That is not going to happen. He had expected to see the same sort of remorse on
the alpha's faces from #8's attack, but instead there's aroused, hot interest
as they stare at Kageyama's broken, shaking form on the ground, the way he's
starting to hunch over on himself, still crying.
#6 smiles, a predatory thing, and he laughs. "No way," he says. "Not before we
make you sound like that, too, Tooru-san!"
"I want to see him come, I want to smell it..."
They get him down on his knees as well, pushing him forward onto his hands, and
Oikawa braces, expecting something bigger than fingers, now, but instead, Arai
just spreads open his cheeks.
"Check it out," Arai says, showing off. "It's so tight, I think Tooru-san might
have been a virgin..."
"Seriously?" #3 says, as Arai goes back to fingering Oikawa's insides,
deliberately hitting his most sensitive spot, over and over, rubbing in short,
teasing circles, sending pleasure through Oikawa like sharp little waves.
Get it over with, just get it over with, Oikawa closes his eyes tight, gasping
in deep, desperate breaths. He knows what they want to hear, so he lets his
mouth hang open, latching onto those pleasant shivers for inspiration and moans
freely.
"Tooru-san," Arai says, nearly in awe. "Make that sound for me again? It's so
nice - "
It's not actually that hard to do - the pleasure has been building for a while,
his body is frustrated, his cock is fat and needy between his legs, and he
starts to rock back into Arai's movements, wishing for the petting on his chest
to come back, something – anything – to tip him over.
"Yeah, fuck, look at him move, look at his hips," #2 is panting, and when
Oikawa looks up, he sees the alpha has his cock out, stroking it as he watches
the show. "No way he's a virgin, he's fucking made for this - "
A beer bottle breaks.
The sound is loud enough that everyone stops, looking across the train, where –
Kageyama has been dragged, and is now kneeling between fucking #3 and #8.
The sight makes the twisted knot of arousal in Oikawa's gut cool instantly, and
he takes in the scene – the dildo from #6's bag is laying on the ground, and
Kageyama has fallen backward onto his hands, looking terrified.
"If this'll make it easier for you," #8 is saying, kneeling down to grab
Kageyama by the shirt, holding the broken bottle up to Kageyama's uninjured
eye. "You really wanna risk losing both eyes?"
"What are you doing?" #2 asks, sounding exhausted from their behavior.
#3 grips Kageyama's hair angrily, jerking him back, then forward. "I really
wanted him to suck my cock. I was thinking about the whole game!! Each time he
got a dump…" #3 moans like he's talking about a favorite snack. "Watching him
choke on my cock."
"You know you can't do that," Arai says.
"Yeah, so we got the dildo."
Kageyama's eye is open wide, but staring forward at nothing. Apparently, he had
the resisted the idea, but this time he takes the long, obscene piece of
plastic passively when they hand it to him, then stares down at it blankly.
"Kiss it," #3 instructs.
A long, long pause, then Kageyama brings the thing up to his mouth, staring up
at the alpha as he does, leaving a short, chaste kiss.
"No, no – make out with it. Put it in your mouth, lick it."
"Suck it down, omega."
Kageyama opens his mouth and takes it in as deep as he can, which isn't much at
all.
He starts licking up the sides of it, staring up at #3 as he goes, and the
sight is obviously thrilling him, first palming his dick through his shorts,
then reaching down inside to milk his dick roughly.
"Fuck, just like that, omega," #3 says. His breath hitches, and then he's
scrambling to yank his shorts down, coming in long, thick stripes, painting
Kageyama's face.
Kageyama freezes in surprise, blinking.
"Don't stop," #8 grunts, jerking his own dick, and Kageyama slowly starts
licking again.
"Ito's strong, but he always chokes," #6 says, suddenly, and utterly at random,
distracting Oikawa from the scene.
"Our practices start a four am too, it's rough as hell. One omega on our team,
a pitch server," #6's voice is strange, and each additional word more bizarre
than the last. "Egg laying. Are all your conversations like this, Tooru?"
Oikawa looks up at #6, utterly confused, and sees him holding – his phone. His
phone, Oikawa's phone.
Texts. He's reading texts, Iwaizumi's – replying to the messages from August.
"Your boyfriend is worried, did you get in a fight?"
"S-stop," Oikawa says, lips feeling numb. Iwaizumi. It's a slap to the face,
Iwaizumi, real life, this is really happening -
"We should talk. I'm sorry, Tooru," #6 reads out loud. "I walked the rest of
the team to train, I'll wait at the Osaka station for a few hours. Are you
there? Are you alright? I apologize for ignoring you, so you better not be
acting shitty and ignoring me. Are you alright? I get it if you're mad, just
respond."
Oikawa's chest is heaving, faster and faster, mind spinning. Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi
-
"Stop it!" Kageyama shouts from the other side of the car, which is odd, until
Oikawa realizes he's crying, silent, full, fat tears, down his cheeks.
"Yeesh, it goes on and on," #6 says, scrolling through the messages. "It must
have been some fight! He's really worried. Let's send him some pictures so he
knows you're okay."
"S- stop, stop – don't – " It's the first time he's begged, and of course it is
ignored. Oikawa feels like he's going to drown in his panic and ties to grab
for his phone, but he doesn't have a chance, #6 easily holding it out of his
reach. He backs down as soon as he sees #6 is aiming the camera at him, ducking
his head.
"Come on, Tooru-san! Give your boyfriend a smile!!!" Arai says. "Let him see
those pretty brown eyes."
Oikawa refuses, so they grab him by the hair, forcing his head up. He thinks he
should fight, maybe, but his body is coiled, frustrated agony, Arai's fingers
are still in his ass, and his mind is – a screaming, broken wail, and he drops
his head into his arms as soon as they release him.
"Oh, we should send him a picture from back here, right?" #5 says, spreading
Oikawa's cheeks again.
"Let's get some come on his back first, though."
"Stop," Oikawa says again, trying to jerk away, not caring how foolish it looks
because he can't – he can't – this can't – Iwaizumi can't, not ever –
But they are bigger, and stronger, and have no problems holding him down, and
when they decide they should have video of him coming - "Look at how hard he
is, we don't want his boyfriend to think we're neglecting him!" - they have no
problems working his body up again, toying with the sensitive spots they
learned before, licking in generous swipes at his chest, working away at his
hole, stroking his dripping cock.
Movements a little angry, Arai takes his fingers out of Oikawa, spreads his
cheeks again, and licks.
"S-sto – oh my god," Oikawa gasps, head dropping to the floor, tangling his
fingers in his hair. The next lick has him moaning, long and loud. Oh god, it's
good, good, good, good, that's all that repeats through his head, down his
spine, his whole body humming, the energy building according to Arai's tongue
in his ass, working away at his prostate, and Oikawa shakes, digging his
fingers into his scalp and wailing as he comes, spraying against the floor of
the train.
It's exhausting, if it were any other place, any other time, with anything
other than a pack of rapists around him, Oikawa would've passed out, but he
keeps his eyes open, dully, as his chest heaves and he gasps for air. Holy
shit.
"Wow," #3 says, sounding genuinely impressed.
"Hey, I wanna see something," #2 says, and grabs Kageyama, manhandling him
across the car, to his knees beside Oikawa, then shoves him forward, onto his
hands, and another pair of hands hoists Oikawa's ass up, into the air. Oikawa
doesn't have to look over his shoulder to know they're looking at his hole too,
comparing.
"Man," #7 sighs. "Nothing like a pretty pink omega hole."
"Look, Oikawa's still twitching," #2 laughs, delighted.
"I'm not surprised, it sounds like his soul flew out of his body," #6 says. "I
think this is a good collection to send your boyfriend, how about you? I added
some of Tobio-kun, too, since we didn't get to give you a facial."
#6 actually bends down to show Oikawa the phone but literal nausea builds in
Oikawa at the idea, and he looks away.
"I guess it'll be a surprise for both of you, then," #6 says, kindly.
"Holy shit, we're almost at the station!" #7 says, looking up at the car
display. The alphas start getting ready, pulling on their jackets and gathering
their belongings, wiping down their hands and crotches as best they can.
"You know, you're lucky to have such a pretty senpai, Tobio-kun," Arai says,
almost conversationally, wiping at his chin. "Don't you think?"
Kageyama makes a quiet, hiccup of a noise.
"What's the prettiest part of your senpai?" #5 asks.
A hand goes under Oikawa's chin, forcing his head up for Kageyama to see.
Oikawa watches the conflict play out in Kageyama's bloody, beaten face –
confusion, pain, and finally, pure childish embarrassment.
"H-hair," Kageyama mumbles.
"Good choice! I like his hair, too," says #5, combing through Oikawa's hair
with gentle fingers. "What do you like about it?"
He mutters something but all Oikawa can hear is soft.
"You're right! Very soft. Want to touch?"
Kageyama shakes his head no, almost violently. When he breathes in again it's
shaky, like he's about to start crying again.
"How about you, Tooru-san?"
Oikawa looks up at #5, who is smiling, enjoying this.
"What's your favorite part of your kohai?"
Oikawa looks, searching Kageyama's face for – for something he can't quite
name, immediately, but something he knows is there, it has to be.
~
"Was that really your best? I thought you were a genius!"
The gym is empty except Oikawa and Kageyama, and the balls scattered all across
the back wall. On the other side of the court, Kageyama climbs up to his feet,
and takes up his receiving stance again. He nods.
"Get ready, this one is going to be fast!" Oikawa says, tossing high. "Too fast
for Tobio-chan~!"
He slams the ball down, hurling it across the gym. Kageyama dives – close. Very
close.
Oikawa could take it easy and send the serves directly to him, help him
strengthen his form, but Kageyama already commits too hard to his stance.
Oikawa grabs the next ball out of the cart, bouncing it lazily as he waits for
Kageyama to get to his feet. Committing to a firm receive is good once you're
in the path of the serve, but until then you have to be loose. Fluid. Flexible.
It's something your body has to learn, through habit, hard work, and
repetition, and so Oikawa is deliberately landing the serves in the least
convenient spot, sending Kageyama driving from one corner to another.
"You're definitely not getting this one, Tobio-chan!" Oikawa grunts as he
forces his fist into the ball, visualizing it passing through – the ball flies
strong and sure, hitting the ground less than a second before Kageyama's hand.
"This is what you meant by helping Kageyama with his receive?"
Iwaizumi is glaring from the door, taking in the scene. All he can see from
there is the back of Kageyama's head, his stumbling feet, his scrambling,
sweaty, overworked body diving all around the court hopelessly, the sweat
dripping down the back of his shirt.
"What else would you call it?" Oikawa says, and serves, again. Kageyama dives –
connecting! but sloppy. The ball flies right, off into the stands. "Tsk. You
know, I don't think you're really trying at all."
"I call it being a piece of shit, Oikawa," Iwaizumi says. "This is too advanced
for a first year. Kageyama, go – "
Oikawa is rolling his eyes, getting ready to defend himself, but he's beaten to
it.
"No!" Kageyama lifts himself from the floor to face Iwaizumi. "I want to keep
trying. Please. Oikawa-san."
Iwaizumi stares – Iwaizumi is nice. He doesn't use his full strength when he's
training underclassmen, and has a hard time going all out against omegas
outside of a tournament at all. He sees Kageyama as just that, a younger
student, a darling omega, someone to be kind to, and foster, and help grow with
encouraging words, and everything else regular-style humans need.
But he's can't see what Oikawa sees – even peering into Kageyama's face. Oikawa
knows the dark, intense hunger there. Kageyama is a starving little creature, a
monster, one that will grab experience with both hands, devour it greedily, and
immediately demand more.
This is a mutually beneficial thing, cathartic for Oikawa to hit as hard as he
can, and experience for Kageyama to take the brunt of it, as long as he can.
The meanest thing Oikawa could do right now is be nice.
Kageyama climbs to his feet, licks his lips. Wipes at his chin. He nods.
Another.
"You better start making this worth my time eventually, Tobio-chan," Oikawa
says, jumping high.
He serves, Kageyama dives. He misses.
Iwaizumi glares at the scene, and for a moment Oikawa thinks he might actually
put an end to it anyway. Instead, after another minute or two, he shakes his
head and leaves.
Kageyama climbs up onto wobbly legs. He nods. Another.
~
"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, finally, "Is a monster."
"What! That's so mean, Tooru-san! After he complimented your nice hair!" #7
says, aghast. "You have very pretty hair, Tobio-kun."
Kageyama doesn't give a shit about about his hair. His one good eye is locked
on Oikawa, and it's obvious he knows what Oikawa was actually saying. It makes
his eyes water, and then he nods.
"There we go," #2 says. "Now they're smelling like omegas!!"
"Are they both presenting??"
"Wait – it's off," #5 says, frowning as he smells the air.
Oikawa stops listening. He doesn't hear the warning that the station is
approaching.
He doesn't know what the alphas were smelling, what was off about it, because
Oikawa only smells relief, after all the fear and pain, to put his face into
Kageyama's neck and inhale – he still smells like a child, maybe he always will
– clean and pure and he tugs Kageyama closer, to get more of it, nearly purring
when he feels Kageyama doing the same to his own neck.
Mine. This stupid, angry, clunky boy. In good ways, in bad, in all ways, is
Oikawa's, and he fists the fabric of Kageyama's shirt, bringing him in
impossibly closer. Mine.
He watches the alphas as they pass by once they reach the station, leaving the
train, eyes tracking #3. His eyes are dark, a dare, a threat – try. Try to take
him.
***** Chapter Three *****
Chapter Notes
     Photos from the rape in the last chapter will be briefly described
     here, so approach with caution!!
You missed.
It's the instinctive knowledge – the displaced air of a ball rushing over his
outstretched hands, the faint noise of it hitting the ground, far out of reach
– his body realizing you fucked up, just before his brain.
Iwaizumi made a mistake.
He feels it in his gut the second the words are out of his mouth, and his brain
catches up by the time Oikawa turns around, walking across the street to the
bullet train.
Iwaizumi can't get rid of his anger so quickly, though, he's not Oikawa and he
can't just shut off an emotion because it's inconvenient. It still rages inside
him, and he knows if he follows now, any apology will turn into another fight,
more angry words, because even if he regrets what he said, he's still – not
happy with Oikawa. Iwaizumi clenches his jaw in frustration, the unpleasant
clench of his stomach returning.
"Heeey," a childish whine from behind. Iwaizumi turns around. Four players from
Sarayashiki are in the door of the club, looking around, hoping to spot Oikawa,
as the rest of the team spills out.
"Where's Tooru-san?"
"He went home," Iwaizumi says.
"Kinda rude what you did back there," Arai says with an angry smile, shaking
the hand Iwaizumi crushed, then turning it into a fist, putting it in his open
palm. An implicit threat.
"Okay," Iwaizumi says, unrepentant, looking him up and down. Arai's a big guy,
but he's a high schooler, barely into his second year. If it came down to it,
Arai could possibly win in a fight, but Iwaizumi can tell the kid doesn't have
it in him to get down to it with Iwaizumi, and he is unimpressed and unafraid
as he stares him down.
Arai blinks first, and when he steps to the side for Iwaizumi, the rest follow
suit. Iwaizumi walks into the club without another word, rolling his eyes when
he hears them moaning about what to do with the rest of the night now.
Iwaizumi was only gone for a few minutes at most, so he's not entirely sure why
he only sees four Aoba Johsai jackets on the dance floor – Kyotani, Kunimi,
Watari, Kindaichi –
"What was that all about?" Ah. Yahaba's off the dance floor, waiting at the
table with Oikawa's untouched drink. It doesn't look like the rest of the team
noticed the scene, thankfully.
"We had to talk something out," Iwaizumi says. His tone doesn't invite any more
questions but Yahaba has always been a bit of a shit.
"'Cause Oikawa-san was flirting?" Yahaba says, making his voice deeper, very
serious. He's obviously trying to have an alpha-to-alpha air about it, hands on
his hips.
Iwaizumi stares, trying to reign in his anger because, while it's not Yahaba's
place to ask, he knows this is actually how he looks for advice, specifically
about alpha-related matters: Iwaizumi just dragged Yahaba's senpai out of a
bar. He's rolling the thought around in his mind, clearly trying to see if it
would work with his own unruly omega. Iwaizumi is too irritated to be useful
right now, still too worked up from his moment with Arai, and the fight before
that. "No."
Yahaba is visibly surprised. "Then why – "
"Oikawa has a lot of ways of pissing me off," Iwaizumi says, walking past
Yahaba, to the floor, grabbing one of the teammates by the scruff of the neck.
"Night's over. Let's go."
~
Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a combined birthday party the year they turn twelve.
Their parents are in favor of the idea – just about all their friends and
interests overlap, and splitting the costs make it cheaper. It's only the once,
though, because by the time Oikawa's actual birthday rolls around a few weeks
later, he gets so mopey and whiny that his mom ends up throwing him a second
party anyway.
"You're spoiled," Iwaizumi tells him.
Oikawa grins as though this is a compliment, flashing a peace sign.
Iwaizumi almost hits him, the only thing that stops him is the fact that Oikawa
is holding a handful of sparklers in his other hand, and is cautious about it,
keeping them at careful arms length.
It wasn't a huge party, just a trip to the aquarium – which is discounted as
Oikawa's birthday coincides with Sea Day, again – and then cupcakes and
sparklers in the park while they wait for the fireworks display.
Oikawa sits down next to Iwaizumi slowly, still mindful of the hissing, bright
sparks of flame in his hands.
Iwaizumi watches him move. Oikawa's body is growing this summer, faster than it
ever has, and Iwaizumi is aware of the long, thin line of his thigh as it
tenses, and the surprisingly graceful descent as Oikawa settles on the grass.
It makes a spot right between Iwaizumi's shoulder blades tense, because they've
been going back and forth in centimeters for years, but this time it doesn't
look like Oikawa's going to wait for Iwaizumi to catch up, and it's becoming a
real possibility that Oikawa will always be taller than him.
He's not just growing, either. Iwaizumi's growth is simple – weight and height,
up and out, numbers he can keep track of, but Oikawai is getting – polished. He
doesn't know what else to call it. Oikawa's never been ugly, but lately he's
becoming something – shiny? Iwaizumi's seen models in magazines, very long and
tall, how they look a little like aliens, but beautiful. That's sort of it, but
not quite. Whatever it is, Oikawa is getting closer to it, in the curve of his
face and his broadening shoulders and his long, thin neck. Other people notice,
too, teachers are quick to praise Oikawa in class, he usually gets extra
servings whenever they get desserts from food carts and here he is on his
second birthday.
It frustrates Iwaizumi – not the extra stuff that Oikawa gets, really – but
that he feels it too, like he wants to reach into his pocket and give Oikawa
any random button or paper he has in there. But that's stupid. Oikawa is
spoiled enough already!
"Want a sparkler?" Oikawa suddenly asks, passing one off, and Iwaizumi takes
it, aimlessly frustrated by the thinness of Oikawa's wrist and long, soft
fingers. "They're cool, huh?"
Oikawa is oblivious to the conflict in Iwaizumi – no longer worried about
getting burned, he's staring at his sparklers with such an earnestly delighted
expression, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in his smile – and.
He grins at Iwaizumi, leaning in close to whisper, "My mom got like, five
boxes. I snunk one into my backpack so we can light them later."
"Right," Iwaizumi says, not really paying attention as he says it.
That's what it is. He doesn't want to give Oikawa things, the pushing,
demanding want in him finally has an actual goal, and everything in Iwaizumi
lines up neatly with it.
He leans in, is going to kiss him, but Oikawa suddenly sits up straight, and
laughs a little, eying the difference in their heights.
"This is good," Oikawa says, pats the top of Iwaizumi's head. "But try not to
get much shorter, okay?"
Iwaizumi slugs him.
~
It's not very alpha of him, but Iwaizumi isn't a jealous guy.
This isn't a virtue.
It's the same competitiveness that drives all serious volleyball players, the
vindictive pleasure that comes from a victory of sheer, brute force. Walking
through a tournament of rowdy alphas, watching their conversations grow quiet
once they catch Oikawa's scent, crane their necks hopefully as he passes, only
to be left with a cold look from Iwaizumi: no. This one's mine.
Even watching Oikawa toy with interested alphas, parodically coy, leading them
on, making them dance – yes, that's fine, because Iwaizumi is the one who gets
to shut it down completely. Oikawa can own an entire room when he wants to,
charismatic and bright, annoyingly tall, and intimidatingly pretty. To be the
alpha Oikawa ultimately returns to – to own that moment of realization, the
defeat and frustration in pursuing alphas is satisfying beyond words.
But Iwaizumi does not like being toyed with himself. And he knows just about
every game in Oikawa's repertoire, he knows when it's happening.
He's slumped on a bench in the Osaka station, hand fisted in his own hair,
looking down at the messages he just sent Oikawa.
Me:
Are you there?
Are you alright?
I apologize for ignoring you, so you better not be acting shitty and ignoring
me.
He knows Oikawa's fine, he's probably already in bed, still angry (and hurt, an
annoyingly honest part of his brain reminds him), and Iwaizumi has practice in
– he groans. Four hours. He should go, but the longer it takes for Oikawa to
respond, the more his irritation and worry grows.
Oikawa was toying with him earlier tonight, obviously, but why or when it
started is beyond Iwaizumi.
The club, he guesses. When Oikawa suggested going in, and Iwaizumi said no.
That was the first time the night had felt – off. Then he got jealous about
Iwaizumi going to clubs with Chou – is that why he dragged those high schoolers
from Sarayashiki to the table? It seems a little petty, even for Oikawa at his
brattiest. Is there something he's missing?
Iwaizumi drops his head against the wall behind him, banging it lightly. Does
it matter? No amount of teasing or toying Oikawa did tonight could really
justify what Iwaizumi said. That was all Iwaizumi, backed into a corner of is
own insecurities, lashing out.
He doesn't like being in the wrong, especially when Oikawa's in the right. He
can clearly see Oikawa sticking out his tongue like a grade schooler, and he
scowls.
He checks his phone.
Nothing. It's almost midnight. Iwaizumi should already be in bed.
He starts texting again.
Me:
Are you alright?
I get it if you're mad, just respond.
He considers threatening to call his mother if he won't respond, but knows
that's too far and Oikawa is almost certainly fine.
If he gets some sleep on the train back to Chou, he might manage to get four
hours of sleep before practice.
Iwaizumi growls to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair, then
types in a furious rush.
Me:
I'm not going to be able to get to sleep if you don't respond so just tell me
you read this
alright???
you dont have to say anything else
just 'k' or something
Come on tooru
"Excuse me?"
Iwaizumi looks up. It's a trio. An alpha and two omegas, carrying two sleeping
children. The alpha is older, maybe in her thirties, the omega directly behind
her probably just a little older than Iwaizumi, possibly in university.
Iwaizumi takes a longer look at the third omega, who has a hand against her
lower back, heavily pregnant, and obviously in need of a place to sit. He
almost gets up, before realizing there are benches all along the wall.
"Could you tell us which train to take for Oshu?" the alpha asks,
apologetically, bowing a little. Her language is just stiff enough to give her
away as still learning, so Iwaizumi speaks slowly when pointing to the map and
giving directions. He knows the ride – it's the same line to Miyagi, just a few
stops early. He tells them that it's should arrive in the next half hour, and
to be careful not to take the northbound train, a common mistake.
"Thank you very much," the alpha bows.
Iwaizumi watches them take a seat on a bench, the younger omega moving slowly,
carefully, around her swollen stomach as she sits. She's young.
Iwaizumi looks away, feeling frustrated by this. There's no way she's older
than eighteen. If she wasn't mated, Iwaizumi imagines she'd probably be getting
ready for her last year of high school. Maybe thinking about college after
that. This is obviously not the case.
~
"It's already going to be traditional - "
"Traditional? That big white American thing is traditional?"
Sanae, Hajime's cousin, pouts. "Everything except the dress." Hajime's mother
makes a face, and Sanae scowls. "I want a dress!"
"Of course, it's your wedding," Hajime's mother says. "You can wear whatever
you like, but a gown is going to look absurd at a shrine! What is Nozomu-san
wearing?"
Sanae looks to the side, then mutters, reluctantly, "Kimono."
Hajime's mother raises her eyebrows, like she doesn't have to say anything
else.
"Fine," Sanae says. "I'll think about a kimono."
Hajime watches the two of them talk, his chin resting on the table, bored.
Sanae is Hajime's cousin, his only cousin. She's an omega and way older but he
likes when she visits. She doesn't like sports, but she plays video games and
will take Hajime to see movies or to the park. But then she got a boyfriend, an
alpha, and she got bonded, and now she's getting married.
Her visits haven't been fun for a long time. Hajime looks up at Sanae's neck,
at her bond mark. It's big, like most alpha marks, and Sanae says she likes how
dark it is. She says it looks distinguished. Hajime frowns, and slumps down to
lay under the kotatsu table. They're probably just going to be talking about
wedding stuff this whole visit.
"Now we have to talk about this summer idea - Sanae-chan, do you have any idea
how hot it will be in a dress or kimono during summer?" his mother is saying,
and Sanae is getting more upset, her arms crossed.
"Nozomu-san is already okay with a summer wedding."
"Really?" his mother asks.
"Well. He didn't want to, but we talked about it - "
"Really, think about this Sanae-chan," his mother says. "You're going to be
walking up the shrine steps, through the courtyard, up into the shrine again -
you'll be a sweaty mess and so will everyone else."
"Autumn, then!"
"Next autumn?" his mother sounds confused by this. "Nozomu-san's classes start
next autumn, don't they?"
"But my classes finish this spring," Sanae says.
Hajime has stopped paying attention to this very boring conversation, making
his action figures crash into one another in his hands, but the sudden quiet
has him lifting his head up out of the kotatsu again, curious. His mother has a
very serious expression, but she's looking down at the table. Sanae is -
crying! Or, almost crying. About to cry.
"What's wrong??" he asks, quickly crawling to her side of the table.
"Maybe," Sanae says. She pats the top of Hajime's head, ruffling his hair, but
she's talking to Hajime's mother. "We could... put it off for a while."
"A while," his mother repeats.
"Just to make sure it's not a mistake."
"Sanae-chan, you are well past making any mistakes," his mother says, then
shakes her head, lifting her hands. "But If that's what you want. Will Nozomu-
san agree to it?"
"Maybe I don't care what he'll agree to," Sanae says.
"If that's the case," Hajime's mother says. "Then you should've thought twice
before bonding with him. This is the reality of your situation, Sanae-chan. You
have an alpha who wants to be successful and wants to take care of you. You
have to decide if it's worth the sacrifice of an - an independent life."
"I just want - I want to finish school. I want to graduate, I want to - do
things. I have things I want to do!" Sanae says. "But that's not what Nozomu-
san wants, and it's so hard with this bond - "
"So," his mother says. "A spring wedding, and a kimono. Did I understand
right?"
Sanae is quiet for a second, then she nods. Hajime's mother smiles.
"Good. I understand it's hard," she says. "But if everyone just gave up
whenever something was hard, nothing worthwhile would be done at all."
"Yes," Sanae says. She's quiet, and Hajime is quiet, as his mother gets up and
leaves the room. Sanae doesn't look like she's going to cry anymore, but Hajime
is still worried about it, still looking close at her face and he pats her
shoulder to comfort her.
"It's okay," he says. She doesn't answer, so he tries to give her a hug
instead. This works. He smiles as she hugs back, tighter than usual.
"Life sucks, Hajime," she says, and she does cry, but only a little.
~
Sanae never graduated high school. She'd seemed so old to him at the time, but
she'd be one of his underclassmen today - barely seventeen. She was married
almost three years by Iwaizumi's age, pregnant with her second child. She was
in her thirties before she managed to severe the bond with Nozomu, a painful
process that took years and years of effort.
Iwaizumi sighs, never comfortable when his thoughts go down this path, the
realities and difficulties of bonding. He's pressing his phone to his forehead,
just about to give up, when it buzzes.
He jumps, relief washing through him, then a little bit of righteous annoyance
when he sees, yes, it's from Oikawa.
this better be an apology for falling asleep he's getting ready to reply, but
his thoughts trip up, falling to confused pieces.
It's a picture. He knows it's Oikawa at the first glance, identifying his hair
before anything else. He thinks it's a selfie, before the rest of the image
falls into place, but a strange one, because Oikawa looks so – scared. His eyes
are red from crying.
Still confused, he scrolls to the next picture.
Fuck.
What the fuck.
Oikawa. Bent forward, wearing only his shirt, and a hand – fingers – visibly
wet, pushing inside of –
Oikawa, head down, hand up, trying to block the camera from taking a picture.
Oikawa, a hand – a stranger's hand, grabbing Oikawa's wrist, yanking it away,
someone's touching Oikawa.
"Sir, are you okay?"
Iwaizumi looks up from his phone, and whatever's on his face makes the alpha
take a step back, hands up. He realizes he's on his feet, and several feet away
from the bench he was sitting on seconds ago.
Oikawa was – is – someone is – he scrolls back up through the pictures.
Multiple hands, multiple pairs of feet, people are – raping Oikawa.
It's the word, rape, finally thinking it, that pushes him to react in a
rational step; he needs to call the police.
His thumb actually shakes when he goes to minimize the image of Oikawa's face,
eyes pinched shut, tears running down his cheeks, fuck, it feels like he's
abandoning him but obviously, no, obviously this happened – this already
happened.
Oikawa is on a train, in the pictures. Oikawa was heading back to Tsukuba. He's
on the northbound train, headed for Tsukuba, and he was attacked. He repeats
this to himself, using it as something to focus on – actual, useful human
words, and not a horrified, enraged shout that's banging through his head. And
then he calls the police.
~
"Your son was assaulted by a group of at least four alphas."
Iwaizumi knew that, and he's sure Oikawa's parents were given some idea of what
happened when they got the call in the middle of the night that their son was
in the hospital, but there's something about hearing it, about the doctor's
frank, almost calm tone that sucks the air out of the waiting room.
"Now, Tooru was brought in with another omega who was also attacked," the
doctor continues. "Occasionally, during an extremely traumatic experience,
omegas will form a bond as a way to cope – "
"Tooru bonded with an omega?" Oikawa's father's eyes are narrowed, visibly
struggling to process that.
"Yes – partially," the doctor says. "When they were brought in, we needed to
evaluate their injuries, which meant they had to be separated, which disrupted
the process."
"How bad - how bad were they? The injuries?"
"Thankfully," he doctor says, and from the tone alone Iwaizumi can practically
feel a heavy weight lifting from his shoulders. "Tooru experienced virtually no
physical trauma."
"I'm sorry, I just – " Oikawa's mother swallows, composing herself. "'No
physical trauma.' Could you be more specific, this is going to be a very long
conversation if we're trying to be polite, please."
"The attackers were very careful, all penetration was slow and minimal."
Iwaizumi freezes, hearing a sharp, unpleasant ring, growing louder and louder
in his hears, blocking out the rest of the doctor's words, and all other
thoughts. All penetration. All penetration of Oikawa was minimal. Oikawa was
penetrated -
"Are you alright?"
Iwaizumi blinks and realizes it was the doctor who asked, and is looking at
Iwaizumi with calm patience. Iwaizumi is growling. He stops, abruptly, as soon
as he hears it, feels the strange rippling in his throat that always happens
whenever he does it. "I'm fine."
"No tearing," the doctor continues, slowly, eyes on Iwaizumi as though checking
to make sure that's true. "And they didn't ejaculate inside either omega. But
as I said, when your son was brought in, he was sedated, and his bond with the
other omega was interrupted, which will impact the rest of his treatment. Do
you know anything about partial bonds?"
They all shake their heads. Iwaizumi knows about bonds formed out of a
traumatic experience – a uniquely omegan thing that will be life long unless
severed, like any other bond. He's never heard of a partial or interrupted
bond, though. As far as he's ever heard, they're more or less instantaneous.
Usually bonded mates will take a week or so off from all obligations for the
process, but that's mostly to experience with the aftermath and enjoy the new
connection.
Enjoy the new connection.
Iwaizumi blinks hard, breath catching at a sudden, brutal wave of loss, the
ringing in his ears returning.
Bonding in his mind has always been linked to Oikawa. It's a thought that's
given him a mix of excitement and frustration and comfort for years, because –
he knew, before anything else, that it was going to happen. It's such a well
traveled thought process in his mind, he goes to its conclusion immediately:
Eventually, one day, he'd have to take a week off of his responsibilities in
order to devote himself fully to Oikawa's well-satisfied body in bed. The
thought feels like a slap to the face, now.
He bonded to someone else. Oikawa is going to explore that connection with
someone else.
He drops his head to his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes as the
doctor continues.
"A partial bond is incredibly tricky. If it's disrupted it can damage both
parties," the doctor says. "We've roomed the two of them together and
thankfully it looks like they'll complete the bond, but until that's happened
they're in very strict quarantine from any alphas or omegas. Only beta
attendants will be allowed into the room for very short amount of time, and
your family will have decide on one beta who is allowed to visit – I assume it
will be you, Oikawa-san?"
His mother nods, looking about as numb as Iwaizumi feels.
"How long will it take?" Iwaizumi asks, at the same time Oikawa's father asks,
"How long until he can sever this bond?"
"Ah – well, ideally, the bond should complete in a week, and in about a year we
can start discussing severing his bond – "
"A year?" his father scoffs.
"I know it may seem like a partial bond should be easier to break than a
traditional one, but it's actually much more work," the doctor says. "To be
completely frank, I would be surprised if it's still on the table in a year,
but it has happened in the past. Though this obviously – a shock, and some bad
news, omegas usually recover from this type of event much faster when they're
able to bond, so it's not without its benefits."
Iwaizumi is being greedy. Being selfish. He should be grateful – it could've
been so much worse. He showed up expecting worse, expecting to hear about –
tearing. Broken limbs. Rehabilitation. And Oikawa likes omegas, he's never made
a secret of it. Iwaizumi should take heart in that thought, and hope for the
best, and Oikawa's happiness, but the surge of rage is so intense he can't even
excuse himself, just standing and storming out of the waiting room without a
word, marching down the hall, until he reaches the vending machine at the end
and kicks it as hard as he can.
Fuck. That was a good hurt, though, and he slams both palms into it, leaning
back for a good, solid punch.
"Iwaizumi-san! Iwaizumi Hajime!"
It's a nurse, and he drops back from the machine quickly, looking to the floor
and lifting his hands, still too pissed to actually apologize or speak at all.
They don't seem angry, though.
"You're Oikawa Tooru's friend, correct? You called the police?"
"Yeah," Iwaizumi says, wiping at his eyes, which apparently started dripping at
some point between the waiting room and the machines.
"We were wondering if you could help us identify the second victim in these
photos?" the nurse asks, holding Oikawa's phone. "Both omegas are still
sedated, we haven't been able to identify anything in our records."
Again, it's the hair Iwaizumi places first.
And again, despite the obvious context, is first thought is that it's a selfie.
It's Kageyama with – dirt? On his face? Iwaizumi feels cold dread when he
realizes it's actually wounds, half his face a mess with bruising, left eye
swollen shut, the telltale bruising of a broken nose beginning under his eyes,
blood just – everywhere.
"Kageyama Tobio," Iwaizumi says feeling numb, surprised at how calm he actually
sounds. "He's a second year at Karasuno high school."
"Thank you. Do you have any contact information?"
"Sorry," Iwaizumi says, at best all he has is Kageyama's cellphone number,
assuming he hasn't changed it since junior high, which doesn't really give them
anything helpful.
Iwaizumi stares after the nurse, stunned speechless – after the relief of
Oikawa's lack of injuries, he hadn't even thought ask about the second omega.
What the hell happened?
Not wanting to go back to the waiting room just yet, face the doctor or
Oikawa's parents, he leans against the wall. The exhaustion is confusing until
he realizes it's nearly two in the morning. He has to call his school.
As if waiting for the cue, Iwaizumi's phone rings, but just once. By the time
he pulls it out, whoever it was hung up. Unknown number.
He's going to call back, but he always feels clumsy with his phone, and ends up
tapping the wrong app, one he doesn't remember installing and he can tell by
the slowly spinning processing icon that it's not worth it, and just locks his
phone.
Immediately, a text lights up his lock screen:
Mattsun:
You ok buddy?
Me:
?
Mattsun:
whoa what the hell
you responded
you must really be dying
Iwaizumi's patience is already especially short, but before he can ask again
just how the hell Matsukawa knew something happened, he sends another message.
Mattsun:
you just checked in at UoT hospital
Oh. Iwaizumi glares down at his phone.
Me:
I'm fine. Oikawa
Iwaizumi pauses.
Me:
had a bad accident.
Mattsun:
How bad??
does hanamaki know??
Me:
He's ok. no one knows
except his family
they're here
Mattsun:
???
"bad accident"? but he's ok?
Frustrated, Iwaizumi taps the phone icon beside Mattsun's name.
"What the hell happened?" Matasukawa asks as soon as he picks up.
"Do you remember Sarayashiki?"
"No? What? Should I?"
"That team last year, one of the – " Iwaizumi closes his eyes in annoyance,
digging his fist into his hair. "Oikawa was attacked. On a train. A group of
alphas from that school."
"Wha – " Matasukawa says. "How bad? He's at the hospital?? Fuck, Tsukuba's
season is about to start, if he gets an injury – "
"The doctor says he's not – injured."
A long pause.
"… Oh," Matasukawa finally says, voice cold and distant as it clicks. "No."
"We had a fight before," Iwaizumi says, voice suddenly thick and face hot. "So
I didn't go after him. So. He was alone. Kageyama was with him."
"What – that setter? The freak-quick setter?"
"Yeah"
"What the hell?"
Iwaizumi eyes are still closed tight. He leans back against the wall and tells
him what the doctor said about the bond, and Kageyama, and there's a long,
confused pause.
"What the hell," Matasukawa finally repeats. "A bond. How – honestly – sorry,
but I expected the two of you to be mated by graduation."
Iwaizumi shrugs one shoulder.
"... Why didn't you?"
Iwaizumi shakes his head, staring off blankly. It feels stupid to even
verbalize, now. "I just didn't want anything to change."
"Well."
"It changed anyway," Iwaizumi says, sparing Matasukawa from having to say it.
"Alright," Matasukawa says, obviously sitting up, probably from bed. "I'm on my
way."
"They're not letting alphas in to see him."
"Yeah. You leaving?"
Iwaizumi is quiet.
"Give me – forty minutes," Matasukawa says. "Well, shit. Closer to sixty."
"You don't have to – "
"Iwaizumi." A beat. "I get the whole thing between you guys, but. He's – he's
mine too, you know?"
"… Yeah," Iwaizumi says, and covers his eyes, feeling grateful for it.
~
"I thought Aoba Johsai was supposed to be a powerhouse."
"Hn. It's why I came here."
"So what's coach doing? Letting him play during practice is one thing, but this
isn't junior high! Serious players should be out on the court, not - "
Iwaizumi isn't sure who his fellow first years are talking about – Aoba Johsai
is a powerhouse school, but there are a few mediocre players on the team. There
always are. Iwaizumi can't think of any that are a serious contenders to be
made a regular, though, and he's about to ask, when he sees the two complaining
teammates finally notice Iwaizumi is in the room at all. They're looking at him
with matching defensive, guilty expressions.
Oh.
"Oikawa's more serious than either of you," Iwaizumi says, yanking on his
sneakers.
"Whatever. Tamaru has been setting since last year. Everyone's used to him, and
he has way more experience than an omega first year."
"Tamaru's sets are lazy." Matsukawa is already dressed, and is stretching his
arms, sounding bored. "They're always too close to the net. I hate them."
"Who is going to take our school seriously when we show up with an omega
setter?"
Iwaizumi slams his locker shut, and the two of them jump, startled again. He
glares, but knows not to start a fight, not jeopardize Oikawa's practice match.
He leaves the club house, nearly running directly into Oikawa, just on the
outside.
It's obvious from his long, strained smile that he heard everything. "Ready?"
Iwaizumi scowls, not liking to look on Oikawa's face. He nods sharply and high-
fives Oikawa has hard as he can.
"Oww! Iwa-chan!!" Oikawa whines, shaking his stinging hands as he trails after
Iwaizumi to the gym, where most of the team is already waiting.
"We have a lot of strong new blood this year," Coach Mizoguchi says, pleased as
he looks over the gathered team. "No matter how this plays out, we're going to
have a very dynamic team this year, and with some hard work, a great chance at
nationals. Everyone should be very excited."
They're not.
If he hadn't overheard the conversation in the club house, Iwaizumi thinks he
might have missed it, but most of the players are glancing over at Oikawa.
They've all been practicing together for a while, and he's gained a lot of
attention, because he's good, and because he isn't shy, and he talks a lot, and
he's tall, and none of that is bad. Iwaizumi is annoyed, biting his tongue to
keep from saying so out loud.
He can see the way Oikawa taps against his sneakers nervously, smiling up at
the coach with that fake smile. He wonders how long Oikawa's noticed.
Aoba Johsai is a powerhouse, and last season they had sixteen players on the
roster. There's only six spots on the court, though, and Iwaizumi looks over
the team as it stands now - technically there's only two spots to be filled.
Six second years, only one of them in the regular rotation, a solid, tall
spiker with a powerful serve. He's not going anywhere. Four third years, and
three of them in the regular rotation. But they're lazy. They leaned hard on
the players from last season to fill holes in their offense, and it shows. They
have to feel it, the five new first years breathing down their necks, tall,
ambitious, hungry and eager for a chance to usurp their positions.
"We've been watching your practices and taking notes, but we'll be making our
final evaluations during this match," their coach is saying. "So play your best
– now's when you show us why we need you as a regular!"
There's only two potential setters, Oikawa and Tamaru, and the players aren't
given any direction on how to split the teams, the coaches watching from the
sidelines as they sort it out themselves, and Iwaizumi can only assume this is
part of their evaluation, as well.
He's not surprised when most of the second and third years pick Tamaru, but
it's a stab in the back when Hanamaki and Matsukawa, two of the taller first
years Oikawa has been setting for in all their practices, ask to play with
Tamaru, too.
Oikawa looks openly disappointed, and they both silently watch Hanamaki and
Matsukawa walk to the other side of the net.
Iwaizumi knows it doesn't matter, because Oikawa's tosses are good, they'll
make anyone look good, and it's their own loss for heading over to Tamaru. It
would've been easier for Oikawa to show this if he had stronger spikers,
though, instead of just Iwaizumi and a handful of other first years and the
upperclassmen on the roster that sit on the bench.
"I'm happy to be playing with all of you!" Oikawa says, shaking off his
disappointment, clapping his hands and giving that big, fake smile to the few
who joined his team. "Let's have a great match!"
The whistle blows, Tamaru's team serves – Oikawa's team receives, it goes over
the net – Iwaizumi glares, watching, waiting, refusing to let one of Tamaru's
floppy sets make it over.
Tamaru tosses – Hanamaki rushes up to the net to take it.
Iwaizumi scowls, because he's played with Hanamaki enough to know he's
definitely strong enough to save Tamaru's toss, he'll probably slam it straight
down, and Iwaizumi braces for it, but –
He blinks.
It hit the net.
Hanamaki is looking directly at Iwaizumi as the ball drops on Tamaru's side of
the net.
He didn't save it at all.
Iwaizumi almost loses his balance when he drops back to the floor, confused.
Hanamaki runs back to his spot. "Sorry!"
"Don't mind!" someone else yells.
Iwaizumi glances over and Oikawa, still surprised, and sees a slow smile
starting up his face.
Matsukawa is next, and doesn't attempt to save the toss either. The ball barely
gets over the net, easily saved and returned, and Iwaizumi slams down his next
spike.
The game continues in this way, and Tamaru grows frustrated, his tosses
becoming faster, sharper, but no easier to hit. By the end of the practice
match he's deteriorated to the point that even his own regulars couldn't save
his tosses, and no one is surprised when Oikawa is picked as the regular
setter.
Hanamaki and Matsukawa are both taller than Iwaizumi, taller than most of the
second years. Either one of them should've been an easy pick as a regular, and
Iwaizumi knows the only reason they're benched for the next season is because
they willingly went down with Tamaru's ship.
"Well," Hanamaki says, later in the clubhouse when they ask him about it,
rubbing the back of his neck. "No one would take us seriously if we showed up
to games with that dough roll of a setter."
Oikawa's face flushes, and doesn't seem to know what to do with himself in a
rare loss of composure.
"Just keep us as a powerhouse school until next season, alright?" Matsukawa
says.
Oikawa salutes, sharply.
~
0112510726:
Hello, this is Daichi Sawamura from
Karasuno
Iwaizumi blinks awake from where he'd been dozing in the hospital chair. It
takes him a moment to remember where he is and why, and another, longer one, to
make sense of the text on his phone.
He sits up slowly, trying to come up with a response.
Me:
Hello
Karasuno Sawamura:
Do you have any information you can share about the accident Kageyama was in?
Kageyama messaged one of our teammates but didn't give much detail.
It's a panic.
Me:
University of Tsukuba Hospital
Kageyama is in quarantine
They're only letting beta family visit.
Karasuno Sawamura:
Thank you.
Iwaizumi starts putting his phone away.
Karasuno Sawamura:
How is he?
Iwaizumi stares, the image of Kageyama's bruise face in his head. How does he
put it in words? He doesn't even want to, particularly, it's not his place and
he doesn't know how close Karasuno is, doesn't know how much Kageyama would
want any of them to know, but even implying that it's something private would
basically be giving it away. He slowly types out each word, hating each letter
as he goes.
Me:
He was hurt.
Iwaizumi winces.
Me:
It's not good.
He winces harder.
Karasuno Sawamura:
I see.
Thank you.
Iwaizumi pauses. If Kageyama was able to text…
He scrolls through his contacts.
Me:
You awake?
Karasuno Kageyama:
Yes
Originally he was going to ask if Kageyama could pass his phone over to Oikawa
immediately, but he stares down at the three letters Kageyama sent, feeling
stumped. It's just been so long since they last spoke.
Me:
How are you?
Karasuno Kageyama:
tired
Then a few seconds later.
Karasuno Kageyama:
sore
Anger, again, fast, sharp and hard. He's fuming with it, forcing himself to
type as he bites down hard on his lip.
Me:
It shouldn't have happened.
Karasuno Kageyama:
yeah
Me:
I'm sorry.
Karasuno Kageyama:
Yeah
im going to sleep
Me:
can I talk to Oikawa?
Karasuno Kageyama:
yeah
Me:
Thanks
Karasuno Kageyama:
Iwaizumi
Me:
Oikawa?
Karasuno Kageyama:
yooo
Me:
I'm sorry.
Karasuno Kageyama:
you and me both
im basically fine though
so
relax ꒡ᴗ꒡
Me:
not exactly comforting
Karasuno Kageyama:
they didn't fuck us
Iwaizumi blinks.
Karasuno Kageyama:
it was just groping/finger stuff
"Stop," Iwaizumi says out loud, watching the messages come in in horror.
Karasuno Kageyama:
guess that wasn't very comforting either!
Mom's here
TTYL IWA-CHAN
(ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥
***** Chapter Four *****
Chapter Notes
     another shortish one. After this we should be seeing Kageyama's POV
     for the first time, hurraayyyyyy~
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-
Oikawa's father is bouncing his leg, his heel hitting against the ground at a
rapid, agitated pace, as though waiting impatiently for something. Iwaizumi
can't imagine what. Oikawa's mother will probably be as she can visiting her
son, and Iwaizumi's not counting on there being any updates in Okiawa's general
status any time soon.
"So!" his father says abruptly, trying to sound upbeat and failing miserably,
still shaking his leg. "What can you tell me about this young man? Kageyama
Tobio?"
Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then pauses.
The Kageyama he knows best was twelve years old.
He was an obedient and eager student, with an awkwardly blunt personality that
set him apart from the rest of the first years. The sudden mental image of that
Kageyama, young and guileless, standing in Kitagawa Daiichi's gym as the coach
talks with him, holding the ball to his chest because he'd rather not be
separated from one, even for a few minutes, is a sharp, painful thing after
that - picture of his injuries. Imagining what happened. Everything.
But Kageyama is not twelve anymore. He's obviously grown since then – first to
the frenzied, tyrant king, then coming into himself as the competent,
accommodating Karasuno setter. Iwaizumi's only seen that, the newest Kageyama,
from the other side of the net, and though Oikawa still seems to consider
himself an expert on Tobio-chan from those few glimpses, Iwaizumi doesn't want
to make too many assumptions. He obviously respects his upperclassmen and
coaches, taking their advice and cooperating with his teammates, growing into a
dangerous opponent not to be taken lightly, but otherwise…
"Serious. Driven," Iwaizumi finally says. "Talented."
"Huh. Sounds like you," Oikawa's father says. "Is he cute?"
Iwaizumi's thoughts immediately blank out, almost in an act of self
preservation. "In a way."
"He was Tooru's underclassmen, right? Was there ever any kind of –" The upbeat
tone starts to drop as Oikawa's father clears his throat, scratching at the
back of his neck. "Thing between them?"
"No," Iwaizumi says, easily. "They weren't close. Kageyama was called a
prodigy, and Tooru was threatened by that. A lot of bitterness, if anything."
"Ah, finally a bit of good news!" Oikawa's father laughs, slapping at his knee.
"Hopefully we'll get this bond severed sooner rather than later."
Iwaizumi grunts vaguely.
"Though I suppose nothing's ever guaranteed when it comes to Tooru," Oikawa's
father says, misreading Iwaizumi's lack of enthusiasm. "We thought we were
finally out of the woods when he made it through high school without bringing
home an omega! And then this…"
Iwaizumi grunts again, keeping his arms crossed.
"But," Oikawa's father laughs, giving Iwaizumi an encouraging slap on the back.
"How long is a year, really? Don't count Tooru out just yet!"
Iwaizumi is baffled by this attitude, until he sees the strained, almost
frantic worry in Oikawa's father's grin.
Oikawa looks nothing like either of his parents. Iwaizumi remembers a
photograph of a great aunt or something, with the same floppy hair and impish
eyes, but Oikawa's immediate family is all very serious faced, and his father
is even more so now, his drawn and pained expression making him look like a
much older man.
He's afraid. He thinks Iwaizumi is going to consider Oikawa damaged goods, or
just be too impatient to wait, or something else that will mean Iwaizumi
leaving him to find some other omega. That Oikawa will, perhaps, decide to stay
bonded to Kageyama. This isn't a time to rock the boat, and until now it's an
issue that's never been forced, but Oikawa's parents have never been
comfortable with Oikawa's preferences, and would often comment about how
worried they'd be if it wasn't for Iwaizumi. He's sure it's some backward
sentiment about wanting Oikawa to be properly taken care of, but they should
know better than anyone how capable their son is, considering how often he's
able to completely play them.
Iwaizumi clears his throat, glancing down the hall where Oikawa's staying, off
limits, beyond Iwaizumi's reach.
"Tooru is my family," he says. "He always will be. But if his bond settles, and
he's happy, I'm not going to expect him to go through that kind of pain for
me."
"That - yes, but there are always – other ways," Oikawa's father sputters. "You
could join his bond – "
Iwaizumi scowls down at the floor. The idea of being responsible for two omegas
is an intimidating one. He has no idea how he, himself, would feel about
something like that, let alone Oikawa, let alone Kageyama, let alone a year
from now. "We'll have to see what happens."
Oikawa's father finally sobers, gaze dropping to the floor as well, his leg
stilling.
"I suppose we will."
~
"What are you doing?"
"I'm looking at my health stats," Iwaizumi says, committing them to memory. "So
I'll know if you unpause the game and beat up my character while I'm in the
bathroom."
"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa says, slapping his cheeks in heartbroken disbelief. "I
wouldn't do that!"
"You would," Iwaizumi says. "And if you do, I'll know, and I'll punch you when
I get back."
The way Oikawa pouts makes it obvious that this had been his plan, and they
both stick their tongues out at one another as he leaves the room.
He hurries, because he put off going as long as he possibly could, and because
he knows even with the threat of a punch, Oikawa isn't at his best when he's
staring temptation right in the eye.
He also knows Oikawa's home well, he's familiar with this hall, but a sudden
spot of brightness where there should be shadows gets his attention.
The door to Oikawa Hana's room is open.
Iwaizumi slows to a stop, blinking. He's an only child, and has always found
Oikawa's older sisters to be something very mysterious and interesting, their
high school lives and hobbies. He's only gotten glimpses of Hana's room in the
past, and is very curious about what's going on in there, creeping closer as
quietly as he can.
Her room is clean, and organized, but her bed is unmade. There are papers and
books stacked on her desk, and a large board a covered in notes and photos
tacked into place on the wall. Hana is inside, she's taken off her school
uniform jacket, spinning her tie in agitation as she talks on the phone.
"'What could go wrong?'" Hana says, pacing from one side of her room to the
other. "You could die, for one thing. Your brain literally thinks you're dying
when you sever a bond, Aimi."
Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows. He's heard this kind of talk before – his cousin
is trying to sever a bond with an alpha, and he feels prickling of excitement,
that he knows what she's talking about, this very serious thing that not even
Hana's friend knows.
"No, I'm not exaggerating. Didn't your parents talk to you about this? It's the
same chemicals, you can look it up," Hana says, rolling her eyes, flopping onto
her bed. "No, it's even worse that you're both omegas – " A beat. "No, when two
omegas bond it's like, everything syncs up and it's way more intense than a
usual bond, so when it severs –" she tsks rolling her eyes. "'If' it severs, it
literally feels like you're dying. Half-way."
"K.O.!"
Iwaizumi snaps upright, glaring over his shoulder. That was the video game
announcer, and it's followed by the grunts of Iwaizumi's character's death
animation.
"Oops," comes Oikawa's sheepish, little voice.
"Oikawa! I'm gonna kick your head like a soccer ball!"
"Just my little brother's friend," Hana's voice is getting closer and Iwaizumi
looks up in time to see her raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him before
closing her bedroom door. "No, that's what I'm saying," he hears her say as she
walks back to her bed. "A bond with an omega is a bond for life."
He doesn't particularly pay attention to it anymore, though, too busy running
to the bathroom, swearing at Oikawa as he pees as fast as he can.
~
Exhaustion catches up with Iwaizumi again, and he ends up dozing, slouched low
in the hospital chair, waking when something warm and round taps his forehead.
He frowns, waking up to see Matsukawa standing there, resting a cup of coffee
between Iwaizumi's eyes.
"Morning."
"Thanks," Iwaizumi says, taking the cup and sitting upright.
"I only brought two," Matsukawa says, quietly, and they both look over at
Oikawa's sleeping father. "So?"
"Nothing new," Iwaizumi says.
"You said they identified the team that attacked Oikawa?"
"They sent pictures," Iwaizumi forces out, the memory making his anger heat in
a dark, restless way. "From Oikawa's phone, during the attack. I told the
police I recognized the uniform."
Matsukawa freezes, slowly lowering his cup from his mouth. "That's fucked up."
"Yeah."
"What are they, sociopaths? That's some seriously vindictive shit, did they
even know him outside of that game last year?"
"We saw them at a club earlier last night. They recognized him from last year,
but it wasn't – " Iwaizumi's anger builds at the memory. He'd been annoyed but
he hadn't sensed any real danger. Frustration at a near agonizing level is
weighing on him. He could've stopped it. They were right there. He could've
done more, he could've said something – could've – been more imposing, enough
to make them think twice about putting their hands on – Iwaizumi grits his
teeth and forcibly cuts the tangent short. It's pointless.
"They were assholes," he says. "But they were trying to impress him, they –
they seemed like regular high schoolers."
Matsukawa is quiet, tapping his thumb against his cup. "And now Oikawa has a
bond."
"Yeah."
"It's petty, I guess, but," Matsukawa is shaking his head. "I'm really hoping
this doesn't fuck up his chances to play."
Iwaizumi stares forward listlessly. Outside of a few pitch hitters, no omegas
have played at a professional level in Japan. It's a fact Oikawa liked to bring
up from time to time, when he was at his absolute best during practice, buzzing
with hot, unstoppable energy, eyes blazing. "It doesn't have to be me, as long
as it isn'tTobio-chanfirst," he'd add, in an attempt to be humble.
Everything seemed to be lining up for it, and these are the years Oikawa needs
most desperately to make it happen – to be seen, playing at this level,
regularly, to become an actual name, more than a novelty…
"It's probably on Oikawa's mind, too."
"How's his team, by the way?" Matsukawa asks. "How's yours?"
Iwaizumi doesn't know much about Oikawa's team, and Chou University is a
competitive, powerhouse school, though Iwaizumi doesn't have much serious
aspirations after college, he's trying to make the most of the opportunity,
careful as he picks his classes, still undecided. Matsukawa was accepted into
his college of choice because of a volleyball scholarship, but isn't in the
regular line up and isn't bothered by it. He already knows he wants to major in
literature, and only gives a brief description of his own new teammates before
talking at length about what he's planning for his dissertation, four years
from now.
The hospital is changing shifts, and there have been a growing number of new
arrivals on the floor, but the next time the door to the lobby opens,
Iwaizumi's almost to his feet before he realizes why.
Generally speaking, alphas can't distinguish scents as well as omegas.
According to Oikawa, Kageyama smells like pears and vanilla, calling it gaudy.
All Iwaizumi's ever smelled is Kageyama, he doesn't have any words for it
beyond that, and that's what he smells now.
Kageyama.
It's a woman, with short, cropped hair. She walks briskly past the waiting
room, scanning it as she goes with an eerily familiar expression: serious,
grim, intimidating. She's an alpha, and smells like – well. Not exactly like
Kageyama, but close enough that it got Iwaizumi's attention. Her gaze locks
with Iwaizumi as she passes – dark blue eyes – and barely stops at the help
desk before a doctor is hurrying out to greet her.
"Kageyama-san," the doctor says. They're not the same one who spoke to Oikawa's
parents, this one looks younger, smaller and somewhat timid, already bowing.
"Please come with me."
Iwaizumi watches the two of them leave the room, presumably for privacy.
What had the doctor said about Kageyama.. ? Iwaizumi's suddenly not sure. He
knows Oikawa didn't have any injuries, but that obviously did not extend to
Kageyama. He knows Oikawa wasn't – wasn't spilled in, but what about –
"Iwaizumi?"
Iwaizumi looks sharply over at Matsukawa, who is taking a long, considering sip
of his coffee.
"I've heard a lot from Oikawa about Kageyama," Matsukawa says. "From Kindaichi,
too... But you've always been pretty quiet."
"… There's no point in arguing with Oikawa when he gets like that," Iwaizumi
says, getting out his phone.
Me:
Kageyama's mother just got here.
"What's funny," Matsukawa says. "Is I've never seen him get like that about
anything, except that kid."
Iwaizumi has, but they're all very closely related fears, easily bleeding into
each other – failure, the limitations of his body, Shiratorizawa, Ushijima
himself. Kageyama was the first, though, and probably the least intimidating
one, the one Oikawa made the most personal.
"Kageyama definitely struck a nerve."
Karasuno Kageyama:
he's still asleep
Karasuno Kageyama:
ATTACHED: 00000001545.jpg
The picture is dark, and Iwaizumi tenses, the memory of the last time he got a
picture from Oikawa still too close, but there's nothing to fear. Oikawa has
his forearm up, blocking his eyes from the glare of the screen, masking his
expression. He's making a lazy peace sign, and under his chin is the
unmistakable curve of Kageyama's head, Iwaizumi can just make out one closed
eye.
It's a surprising image, though he's not sure why – completing a bond would
logically include some physical closeness. It's peaceful, bringing a strong
wave of relief and he types back Thanks before really thinking about it.
"How close were you two?"
Iwaizumi blinks up from his phone. "Huh?"
"You and Kageyama," Matsukawa says.
"… Not very," Iwaizumi says.
Matsukawa raises an eyebrow.
Iwaizumi doesn't blink. It's the truth – he'd made sure of it.
~
Not even Oikawa is staying late to practice today, eager as anyone for winter
break to start. The halls and gyms are quickly emptying at Kitagawa Daiichi,
and Iwaizumi expects the clubhouse to be the same, but when he opens the door,
someone in the back springs to their feet.
"… Tobio?" Iwaizumi asks when he turns on the light, baffled.
The boy was alone, in the dark, and looks – angry. Hands clenched in tight
fists at his sides, and he scowls down at the floor.
Iwaizumi's noticed some friction between not only Oikawa and Kageyama, but
between Kageyama and the rest of the first years, as well. He seems to be an
almost constant offbeat, and Iwaizumi can't guess what brought this gloomy mood
on in particular, simply because there's so many possibilities.
It must have been something especially bad, because Kageyama's expression
doesn't smooth out when he sees it's Iwaizumi, like it usually does. Kageyama
actually looks angrier, his glare tightening.
Iwaizumi has to resist the urge to take a step back, never really noticing
Kageyama's presence like this before. The thing that makes him a beacon on the
court, impossible to ignore, is now a smothering, suffocating black hole, the
whole room darkening with his mood.
"You… okay?" Iwaizumi asks.
"Yes!" Kageyama shouts tightly, clenching his hands again. Something crinkles –
balled up plastic in Kageyama's hand.
"What's that?" Iwaizumi asks.
"Ha – " Kageyama stops, swallows hard, and for a terrifying moment, Iwaizumi
thinks he might start to cry. Then he starts again, shouting – "Have a good
winter break, Iwaizumi-san!"
Kageyama is bowing low, holding out the balled up plastic: a shopping bag.
Stunned, and catching on slowly, Iwaizumi steps properly into the clubhouse and
takes it, feeling something small and heavy inside. Ignoring the receipt still
in the bag, Iwaizumi pulls out a tiny, silver charm. It's round, and as
Iwaizumi watches it dangle from his fingers, he realizes is a volleyball.
Kageyama is still bowing, but he's moved his hands to his shorts, gripping them
tightly, obviously distressed.
Iwaizumi thinks of Oikawa. Oikawa gets gifts all the time, practically every
game. Iwaizumi remembers his reactions: big smiles, loudly thankful, and
generous with praise.
Iwaizumi almost attempts this, but he can't summon that kind of energy inside
himself, doesn't even know how to try, and he's pretty sure it's not something
Kageyama would want, anyway.
Instead, he nods, lifting it higher for a better look. "Cool."
He knows it was the right reaction when Kageyama finally snaps back up, a blush
and relieved smile on his face. "I have one, too," he says, and pulls his bag
to the front, pointing at the charm on the handle. "They match."
Iwaizumi inhales shortly, composing himself.
"Nice," he says, casually. "Thanks for thinking of me, Tobio. Have a nice break
too, alright?"
Kageyama bows shortly, serious again, and hurries out of the room.
Fuck. Iwaizumi glares down at the charm clenched in his fist. Fuck, that was
cute.
He can't let this last – it will stop as soon as he leaves the clubhouse, it's
the moment, and that's all. That's all.
But it is a very nice moment.
Oikawa's instincts can seem almost supernatural, and the way his eyes
immediately lock on the charm when they meet up again is one of those times.
Oikawa needles him about it, and it's pure luck that he abruptly pulls back as
he's going in for the kill. He's too aware of his own jealousy and over-
corrects, letting it drop and pouting impotently instead. Maybe it's cruel, but
Iwaizumi lets him.
He knows what it means, and what it can never mean. But he can have this
memento, he's allowed it.
~
There wouldn't have been any conflict in Iwaizumi if he had been close to
Oikawa and Kageyama at once, but... as much as he tries not to spoil Oikawa, he
knows that would've been just one more demon for him to fight off, one more
insecurity, one more reason to fear a first year, and Iwaizumi wasn't going to
put him through that. If it was a question of one or the other – well, then, it
was never a question at all.
"Have you talked to Oikawa?"
"They took his phone, but I still had Kageyama's number," Iwaizumi says,
holding up his own phone, and seeing he has… three missed calls. He grimaces.
"Poor Hajime-kun has to actually check his phone now," Matsukawa mocks,
lightly.
Iwaizumi gives a rude gesture but otherwise ignores him. Kindaichi twice and an
unknown number. "Did you tell Kindaichi what happened?"
"No, but Oikawa's mom made a post about an accident," Matsukawa says. "It's
getting around. I left a message with Hanamaki to call as soon as he wakes up,
but he has make up exams today, so – "
Iwaizumi's phone vibrates with a new call, and they both stare at it.
It's the unknown number, calling for a third time that night. If left to his
own devices, Iwaizumi would let it ring, but Matsukawa is watching him with
that lazy, effortlessly judgmental stare.
He brings the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
There's a loud argument happening on the other line, voices heard from a
distance.
" - did I say??"
"But we're lost!"
"We're not lost, there's a map right here – "
"Hinata!! Did you actually call – "
Suddenly, a vaguely familiar voice is speaking directly into his ear. "Sorry
about all this!! Goodbye!"
"Uh." Iwaizumi looks down at his phone, and sees the call has ended. "Huh."
"Who was it?" Matsukawa asks.
"I... think it was Karasuno."
As a very young child, Iwaizumi's favorite book was about a group of animals
escaping their cages at the zoo one night, and marching down the street. The
best part was at the very end, when the lion kicked down the door to the
zookeeper's office, the elephant trumpeting so loudly that both the zookeeper's
hat and hair flew right off his head.
Iwaizumi is reminded of this when Karasuno explodes into the waiting room a few
moments later, with such a shocking burst of energy it wakes Oikawa's father
from his sleep with a startled snort.
"Kageyama Tobio??" the little orange cannonball says, dashing to the front desk
with that unnatural speed, slapping his hands on to it and jumping up into
their face, before the back up setter – Sugawara? Former third year, not on the
team anymore – pulls him back.
"Sorry about that," Sugawara says, bowing slightly. "Our friend was brought in,
and we were hoping to see him."
"Um," the nurse glances between them, obviously unnerved. "Kageyama Tobio isn't
able to have any visitors at the moment, at – at the moment only beta – "
"There aren't any betas in his family!!" Hinata, again, and Sugawara, again,
pushes him back, away from the desk. Another member of Karasuno – tallish, with
a closely shaved head, tags in, dragging Hinata over to the chairs and sits him
down.
"Oi, what did we say the whole train ride up here, dummy?" he says, bopping
Hinata on the head before returning to the help desk. Ryu, Iwaizumi suddenly
remembers being called from the crowd. Tanaka Ryu. Wing spiker.
"How long until he can have visitors??" Hinata shouts, staying where he was put
on the chair but immediately going up to his knees, turning around.
"What do you think we're asking, dumbass?!"
"Calm down, we're in a hospital."
"I am!! I'm very calm!!"
Matsukawa shifts back in his seat, entertained. "I always just assumed they
worked themselves up for games..."
Hinata turns at the sound of Matsukawa's voice, apparently just realizing
they're not alone in the waiting room.
The last time Iwaizumi spoke to this guy off the court, he was so spooked it
was like trying to talk to a bug, scurrying around on the ground after turning
on a light. Maybe that was just pre-game jitters, because instead of the
explosive, panicked reaction he's expecting, Hinata suddenly grows quieter,
more intense.
"Iwaizumi-san – uh," he looks at Matsukawa a bit blankly. "Middle blocker-san."
Matsukawa snorts. "Do you know anything?? Is Kageyama okay?"
"Last I heard, he was asleep."
This was the wrong thing to say. Hinata zeros in on Iwaizumi, jumps from the
chair across the waiting room, taking up the one beside Iwaizumi. Again, an
alpha's sense of smell is nothing compared to omegas, but Hinata's scent is so
strong Iwaizumi feels a little bowled over – it's unusual for an alpha, a very
comforting scent, and Iwaizumi has a sudden memory of falling asleep in a
basket of clean laundry as a child. It's oddly uplifting, and therefore
unsettling.
"What did you hear? When? Was it from the Grand King? How bad is Kageyama, can
he still play – "
"You should save your questions for Kageyama."
"He's not answering any texts," Hinata says, still oddly serious. "Is Oikawa-
san answering yours? He's with Kageyama, right?"
"Hinata!" Sugawara shouts from across the lobby. "Personal space!"
Hinata pouts like a small child might, pulling back from where he'd been taking
Iwaizumi's unoccupied armrest.
Me:
kageyama's friends are here
The response is almost immediate.
Karasuno Kageyama:
Tobio-chan is awake
but he doesn't want to talk to anyone
Iwaizumi's thumbs hover over the keys, ready to ask if he's sure it's not
actually Oikawa that doesn't want to give up the phone, but for some reason it
feels wrong, too harsh or too soon or something. Oikawa's tone is still an
unsettling thing and Iwaizumi knows better than to rush into a minefield.
It's more convincing when a second text comes in a moment later.
Karasuno Kageyama:
╮( ˘ ､ ˘ )╭
Iwaizumi glances back up to see Hinata still watching with piercing, intent
eyes.
He knows.
He knows Iwaizumi has information, just got more of it, and is trying to figure
out how to get it out of him.
Iwaizumi wonders how he would handle it if someone was withholding information
about Oikawa. Not nearly as calm, he's sure.
Hinata continues staring until the rest of the team comes over, jostling Hinata
and breaking the eye contact. As they sit down, Iwaizumi realizes it's
literally just the three of them – Tanaka, Sugawara, and Hinata, they just have
such a loud presence that it had seemed like more.
"You three are – Kageyama Tobio's friends?" Oikawa's father asks, gamely.
"Yes," Sugawara says, bowing slightly, and they introduce themselves.
As they talk, Iwaizumi boggles, yet again, at how sullen Kageyama had found a
home with these people.
Though, that might have been the thing. Even as a first year Kageyama was
introverted, focusing most of his energy inward, and it ended up poisoning him.
In a team like this, it would be impossible for negative feelings to fester
unsaid - they'd be poked and prodded, tested and pushed, dragged kicking and
screaming into the sunlight. Whatever the case, it's obviously healed something
in Kageyama, these rambunctious idiots that won't take no for an answer.
It's still an incredibly irritating thing, though.
"We still don't know what happened," Hinata says as soon as there's an opening
for it in the conversation, looking to Iwaizumi again.
"I'm sure if our friend knew anything, he'd tell us," Tanaka says, smiling a
sort of shark-like grin.
"Don't you two have school today?" Matsukawa asks. Both of them flinch.
"This is more important!"
"You told Sawamura-san only betas could visit, but no one in Kageyama's family
is a beta!" Hinata says. "But – "
"Suga-san is!!"
They both point at the beta that sits between them, and Sugawara waves once, a
little sheepishly.
"You're a beta?" Iwaizumi asks. He distinctly remembers Sugawara in an omega
uniform during games.
"Ah, well. There was a mix up during my first year with the uniforms," Sugawara
says, vaguely, but considering that super-sized ace omega, Iwaizumi can easily
fill in the blanks himself. "It ended up sticking."
Iwaizumi's father always called betas lucky. They're the rarest of the
classifications and most betas Iwaizumi's met, like Ushijima, and Kunimi, and
both of Oikawa's sisters, tend to have annoyingly calm temperaments, a sort of
mellow, steady ease with themselves that he sees in Sugawara now, the reason he
was able to carefully cut through Aoba Johsai's defense so accurately.
He also remembers the easy way Kageyama and Sugawara spoke to one another
during their first match with Aoba Johsai. He'd never seen anyone ease Kageyama
out of a tailspin like that before, the tension and anger had literally melted
off, pulling him out of that reptilian brained panic that had so thoroughly
alienated Kunimi and Kindaichi.
This is good news, Iwaizumi decides.
"And Sugawara-san will tell us what happened to Kageyama," Hinata says.
"Hinata," Sugawara says. His tone is soft, obviously trying to pull him into a
private conversation. "I think you should consider the possibility that
Kageyama might not be comfortable with everyone knowing yet."
"Well, yeah," Hinata says, oblivious. "Kageyama isn't comfortable with
anything."
Tanaka's eyes narrow. Iwaizumi's sure he has the answer, but probably doesn't
want to actually go there. "You don't think – "
A door just out of view opens, and Iwaizumi knows this because it slams, hard,
into the wall. Kageyama's mother comes walking out at that same brisk pace as
before, this time holding her phone.
"Kageyama-san," the doctor says, hurrying after. "Please, I know this is – a
surprise, but – "
"A surprise?" She repeats, dangerous, and her dark, chilling aura swamps the
room. "Claiming a forced bond is the only treatment for 'at least four alphas'
raping my son – "
"Hey."
Kageyama's mother swings her gaze from the doctor to Iwaizumi.
"This room is full of Kageyama's teammates," Iwaizumi says, waving a hand
toward the Karasuno players. Both Tanaka and Hinata look sucker-punched,
Sugawara dropping his head to his hands. "If you want to fight about this, do
it somewhere else."
She gazes travels from the team back to Iwaizumi, and he can't quite read her
expression, but her scent is something threatening at least, and both Iwaizumi
and Matsukawa tense instinctively.
"It's not the best news," Oikawa's father says, grimacing through the tension,
arms crossed, pointedly not rising to the challenge. "I haven't been able to
find anything about this – partial bond either. It sounds rare. To be frank, I
don't think there's going to be any happy solution, but I assume there's a
reason why your son and mine started to form it in the first place, so. Letting
them see that through is probably the least harmful thing I can think of right
now."
"… You're Oikawa Tooru's father," Kageyama's mother says.
"Yes."
"And who are you, exactly?"
"Iwaizumi Hajime," he says. "Kageyama's old vice-captain."
It feels odd to say, to make any sort of claim on Kageyama, but it's true, even
if it was in junior high. It happened.
It's only once Kageyama's mother steps directly in front of Iwaizumi that he
realizes she's short, barely reaching his chin.
Not many alphas challenge Iwaizumi head on. Oikawa's father is never so
confrontational, and by the time Iwaizumi was old enough to actually be
challenged at tournaments, he had found his center as an alpha and was pretty
hard to jostle. He feels like he actually feel the flame of Kageyama's mother's
rage though, as she tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed. Justified or
not, it's – a bit intimidating. He can't really do anything to help Kageyama,
right now, he couldn't prevent what happened - all he can do, at the moment, is
protect Kageyama's privacy, try to give him some kind of dignity, and he knows
she's pushing against him with that same drive to do something.
Her will is stronger, and it's only because Iwaizumi has so little experience
actually backing down that he keeps it up, and it turns out to be just long
enough.
She steps back, putting her phone to her ear. She addresses the doctor, "I'll
be pulling my son out of this hospital as soon as I hear back from our own
doctor about any other options."
"Hey!" Hinata suddenly says. "Hey, hey – " he bursts from his seat, running
around him and stopping in front of Kageyama's mother before she can leave the
room. He stares up at her with almost terrified eyes, like he can't believe he
got the guts to do it. "Since Kageyama doesn't have any close beta relatives,
we brought one – "
"What?" If she was surprised by Iwaizumi talking back to her, she does not seem
to know what to make of Hinata at all, anger actually derailed in her
confusion. She looks over her shoulder when he points over to Sugawara.
"Can he go in? To visit Kageyama?"
"Fine," she says, dismissively. "He'll be out of that room soon enough anyway."
~
Iwaizumi had assumed that Hinata, at least, would get louder after finding out
what happened, have an endless list of horrified, furious questions, but after
Sugawara leaves, both of them get miserably quiet. Hinata curls up in the
chair, texting steadily, while Tanaka takes a call after call, standing off to
the side having quiet, agitated conversations. They don't talk much, or
interject in any of his conversations with Matsukawa.
It's surprisingly hard to sit through, and Iwaizumi is glad for the excuse to
hang back for a moment when he gets a call on the way back from the hospital's
cafeteria.
"Hello?" Iwaizumi says.
"What happened?" Kindaichi blurts out. "Sorry – I heard about Oikawa-san."
Iwaizumi summarizes briefly, barely finishing before Kindaichi impatiently
says, "I heard that he wasn't alone."
"Yeah. Kageyama's here, too."
Kindaichi swears shortly. "I saw him."
"What?"
"When we were at the arcade, I saw Kageyama outside. He was walking down the
street," Kindaichi says. "He was lost."
"How do you know that?"
Kindaichi scoffs. "He always gets lost."
"Does he?"
"I mean – sometimes," Kindaichi says, backing down immediately, a terrible
bluff. Iwaizumi wonders how many times Kindaichi and Kunimi had to track
Kageyama down and drag him back to the rest of Kitagawa Daiichi before their
senpais or coaches noticed he was missing. "I knew he was lost, I could tell,
but I was still angry, I – I just – I didn't say anything. I just… watched him
go."
Kindaichi has never been a subtle guy, and the guilt is so heavy it's making
his voice shake. "The problem wasn't that Kageyama got lost," Iwaizumi says.
"He wasn't mugged when he wandered into an alley, he was on a train. They
wanted to hurt him, and waited for the chance to do it. It's not something you
could've prevented unless you were planning to escort him home."
"I'm not – I wasn't saying I should've – "
Iwaizumi waits for him to get his words together.
"I just..." seems to be the best Kindaichi can do.
"You two have a weird relationship," Iwaizumi finally says.
"I guess."
"A lot of stuff is unresolved."
"Yeah."
Oikawa would probably know what to say. He's good at reading people like this,
finding out what they want and either dangling it above their head or handing
it over graciously. Iwaizumi is about to try to force something out, maybe
about – forgiveness, or alpha responsibility, or – something, when Kindaichi
sighs before he can even try.
"Thanks, Iwaizumi-san."
"No problem," he says, baffled, but he'll take it.
~
Karasuno Kageyama:
what's the worst nightmare you ever had?
This particularly cryptic text comes about four nights after the attack, around
midnight.
Me:
Other than what's happening right now?
Karasuno Kageyama:
literal nightmare iwa-chan
bad dream
Iwaizumi has to think. He knows the sensation of waking in a cold sweat, an
uncomfortable churning in his gut, the immediate relief once he realizes the
cause was never real to begin with, but he's drawing blank on any examples. He
picks the first unpleasant dream he can think of.
Me:
once I dreamed I was stuck under the floorboards in the gym
Karasuno Kageyama:
i just dreamed i found a baby bird on the sidewalk
i stomped it to death
i could feel it under my foot
Iwaizumi... does not know what to say to this. It's late at night, Iwaizumi's
fairly sure that Kageyama and Oikawa have come to an agreement when it comes to
Kageyama's phone, as Oikawa's texts now mostly come around midnight, waking
Iwaizumi from sleep with usually unsettling messages.
Me:
yours sounds worse
Karasuno Kageyama:
wanna see something?
Iwaizumi's first reaction is no, because at times it feels like he's talking to
an irritated viper, every text he gets is like a warning rattle, telling him to
get ready for a bite. But of course he can't say no, and he grimaces as he
clicks on the image Oikawa sends him, bracing for the worst.
It's a picture of Oikawa's neck.
… Oh.
Iwaizumi sits up in bed.
Alphas, betas, and omegas all use the same process to bond, but the bites heal
differently. A bite from an alpha expands as it heals, leaving a large, oval-
ish mark, sometimes taking up the entire side of a neck. An omega bite
condenses, they're typically a pale color, unobtrusive enough to sometimes be
confused for a birthmark.
Iwaizumi stares, surprised at his own reaction – if he had been warned he was
going to be seeing someone else's mate mark on Oikawa's neck, he would've
expected to feel rage and pain, but – he's fascinated by the tiny, pale pink
mark on the base of Oikawa's throat.
It's – cute. Iwaizumi realizes he's mouth is slightly open as he stares, and
forces it shut, clearing his throat. It suits him. A charming, happy looking
thing.
Me:
what's kageyama's look like?
A thumbprint. He can see it clearly in the picture Oikawa sends next, Kageyama
sitting up in bed, a blanket pooled around his waist, expression blank, the
wounds on his face looking worse than ever, and giving possibly the most
sarcastic peace sign Iwaizumi's ever seen in his life.
The mark is higher up on Kageyama's neck, just under his ear, and it's small
reddish brown. Iwaizumi presses the spot it would be on his own neck, if Oikawa
bit there.
From the marks, he can clearly visualize how the two of them were embracing
when it happened, and he feels his face start to heat.
~
Iwaizumi has been masturbating to Oikawa since about the time he realized his
dick was dual purpose.
Not exclusively, he's thought of other omegas from time to time, usually just
in snippets – a smile during class, or an appealing scent, or the way they
moved. Most of what he pictures is vague in that way– the motions, noises and
sounds of a very pleasured omega. Sometimes crying, sometimes begging, usually
moaning, usually coming.
He usually masturbates in bed, mentally carding through fantasy or memory but
tonight, he's at his desk, rewarding himself for finishing an essay, scrolling
through an image board. He only seriously started using the internet for this
in high school, because most of his initial searches while in junior high
resulted in videos he found unsettling. Omega-based porn can be brutal, the
omegas often unwilling and hurt, or at least pretending to be, and not
appealing to Iwaizumi. Eventually he found animated porn, which is a
comfortable step away from reality, something fake and guilt free, even when
they lean toward unsavory themes. It's also easier to picture a drawing of an
omega with soft brown hair as Oikawa than it is with real life omegas who are
distinctly and obviously not, and when he does see the occasional image that
makes him think of Oikawa, it's a sharp rush of surprised pleasure, usually
leading to an especially satisfying climax.
He's going at it lazily, stroking his dick slow and steady until he finds a
topic that appeals – Sporty omegas, yes. Hard to do better than that. He milks
his dick faster, scrolling down the images, omegas peeling off soaked
swimsuits, breasts shaking through tight, transparent jerseys, a tennis racket
slick, dripping between dark thighs –
The resemblance of the character in the next picture is so eerily on point, for
a second he actually thinks he's looking at a drawing of Kageyama. Shiny,
short, dark hair, dark blue eyes, staring right at Iwaizumi with arousal and
desperation, legs spread wide, straddling a pommel horse.
Iwaizumi comes before he can even really process what he's looking at.
Once sanity returns and his eyes clear, he sees it's more of a vague likeness
than what his worked up mind had imagined. It's a drawing of a girl, even, just
with an especially flat chest and a similar hair style.
Iwaizumi catches his breath, closes the window, throws out the tissue, and is
unsettled. But why? Kageyama is an omega, he reminds himself, and only a few
years younger – it's hardly even a notable age gap. And it wasn't even a
picture of Kageyama. The unnameable annoyance with himself doesn't do anything
to diminish the tingling satisfaction from the climax, though, and as he lays
down in bed, he can still feel it. If he pushed it, if he kept riding that
surprised, breathless arousal from seeing Kageyama's face, he thinks he could
manage a knot, something he's only done when picturing Oikawa.
Of course, he doesn't.
The next time he's on the image board, a week or so later, he pretends he
doesn't really know what he's looking for when he sees What's better than one
omega? Two! omega/omega thread. It's not like black or brown hair is rare, so
it's pretty easy to find what he's - not looking for... but most of the
pictures are sweet. A gentle, soft sort of fantasy, and it's just too at odds
with reality for Iwaizumi to enjoy.
He clicks back.
~
Me:
are they healing alright?
they look good
Karasuno Kageyama:
not jealous?
Me:
sad and angry
but it suits you
It says he's typing, then stops.
He waits, but Oikawa doesn't say anything else.
Chapter End Notes
     This is the Iwaizumi/Kageyama song i was channeling for this chapter
     if anyone wants a cool tune https://soundcloud.com/a-little-nothing/
     right-place-right-time
***** Chapter Five *****
Chapter Notes
     THIS was actually supposed to be longer, I ended up cutting in half
     because I realized it would be another week at least before I
     finished the whole thing, and as a reader I know I definitely like as
     many updates as I can get, lol. SOO there might end up being 3
     Kageyama POV chapters, even though the pattern was supposed to be 2,
     2, 2.
     ALSO I mentioned in an earlier chapter that readers could skip the
     rape chapter and still read this but honestly the rape is such a
     prevalent theme and parts of it are going to be revisited so much, I
     really don't think that would be possible, so that was irresponsible
     of me to say and I apologize for that.
     So at the end of this chapter I believe you'll all finally have the
     basic premise for this story, there's only going to be one more like
     TWIST/revelation with Iwaizumi, and then it'll be like. All the
     pieces are in place for the endgame pairing lol.
Kageyama has been scared before, of course.
When he was six, he fell off the roof of his house. He doesn't remember hitting
the ground, or the hospital or anything else about it, really, except the
feeling of his feet lifting off the surface of the roof. Tipping backward,
falling, and then falling turning to dropping, because there was nothing there
to stop it, and the fear was so intense and sudden, he couldn't even scream.
Once, his sister hit a patch of ice while driving, sending the car sliding
across a busy street, and all Kageyama could do was cling to his seat-belt with
both hands and hold his breath as they spun.
Once, he saw his mother crying, crumpling a picture of his father so tightly in
her hand that it was starting to tear.
"S-stop."
Tears falling down Oikawa's face, his eyes squeezed shut, begging, is more
terrifying than any of it.
"Stop, stop – don't –"
~
Kageyama wakes up, swamped by fear, shaking with it, his head throbbing in
pain, disoriented. His thoughts are too jumbled to name the thing that had
scared him so deeply, but this just makes the fear worse, and he gasps for
breath shakily.
"Shh, it's okay – just a few more minutes, alright?"
"He's awake?"
"Yeah, I think so," the voice says, and a soft hand strokes Kageyama's
forehead. "Shh, we're almost done."
He doesn't know these voices, or that hand, they belong to strangers. When he
tries to flinch away, he realizes he's stuck, he's strapped to something, and
the fear rises to panic, the pain in his head cracking down, radiating sharply
through his head and neck, throbbing cruelly.
"Hey – shh, it's okay – you're safe, calm down, honey."
That's a lie, that's a lie. Kageyama is not safe. A sudden, vivid memory of
hands where they shouldn't be, fingers between his legs, and under - under his
clothes, under his - shirt, r-rubbing, and the nausea is too intense to stop.
"Oh, dear."
"Help him over," someone says, and he's being unstrapped, tipped to his side, a
small, warm hand running up and down his back as Kageyama vomits. "Better out
than in, there you go."
Kageyama manages to crack open an eye – there's too much hot, pulsing pressure
over the other one to manage both – and sees a tile floor, and the familiar
pastel color of hospital scrubs. He pants weakly, suddenly too exhausted to
even keep his eye open, rolling to his other side.
"That's a bad sign."
"The scan looks clean so far. I don't think it's a sign of head trauma," says
another voice.
"More like bonding trauma," says the first one.
"I've never seen a disrupted bond before..."
"We'll have to see what the doctor says."
Kageyama's head hurts too violently to open his eyes again, but he attempts to
help with shaking hands when something warm and wet – a rag – touches his lips,
cleaning his chin. He's being moved, but is too miserable to really understand
much of it, until he's brought into a blissfully dark room.
He smells strawberry.
A memory of stirring a glass of milk, watching pink swirl into white –
pleasant, sweet, a small whisper of relief, and Kageyama swallows on reflex.
"Think you can walk?" the voice asks, gently, an encouraging hand on Kageyama's
shoulder. They're nudging him toward the scent, and yes, Kageyama can sit up
and take the unsteady step onto the bed, immediately pressing up against the
warmth there. A person, the one who smells like sweet, creamy strawberry milk.
Oikawa.
It's Oikawa's scent, and smelling it brings the memory Kitagawa Daiichi's gym
door, the weight of it against his palms, pushing it open, then... a desperate,
terrified voice, S-stop... Stop, stop – don't –
It's the fear that's been hovering since Kageyama woke. The pain, the fear,
what he saw, and what he – f-felt –
Kageyama wraps both arms tight around his body, trying to confirm nothing's
there, no one is touching him. He grits his teeth and feels hot tears start
down his face.
Maybe Oikawa isn't fully awake, his hands on the back of Kageyama's shirt feel
clumsy, like they did on the train. Like the train, though, being pulled close
brings almost immediate relief. He inhales the scent and the headache gradually
fades, each throb lesser than the last.
He knows Oikawa – the touch is rougher than gentle hand on his forehead before,
and Oikawa doesn't say anything, but it's far more reassuring than anything the
nurses were saying. There is a very young part of Kageyama that knows, without
question, without doubt, that Oikawa can do anything he wants to, and if that
thing is keep Kageyama close to him, that's what's going to happen, and
Kageyama will be safe.
~
"Look!!" Hinata says, shoving his phone in Kageyama's face. It's a picture of a
Ferris wheel. "It's the biggest one in Japan! It's in Osaka! We should go there
after we win!"
Kageyama shoves it away.
"It takes a half hour to go all the way around," Hinata continues, without
missing a beat. "It's that big! Also," Hinata scrolls to the next picture, and
shoves it back in Kageyama's face. "It's right beside the biggest aquarium in
Japan, too!"
This time Kageyama doesn't bother to push it away, he just turns to look out
the window.
"Oi. Kageyama-kun," Hinata says, his voice going stupid and gruff like he does
when he's trying to be serious. "You can't be freaking out about the Grand
King, he isn't even there."
"I'm not freaking out."
"Is it Turnip head?"
Kageyama glares at Hinata through the reflection in the window before punching
behind him, but it's an awkward angle and it doesn't have any force. Hinata
dodges easily, then grabs Kageyama's fist, so Kageyama swings his other one –
"Don't fight on the bus!" Ennoshita shouts.
They both freeze, releasing each other immediately.
"Is that it?" Hinata asks "Is Turnip head your new rival?"
"No."
"He said he was gonna beat you, he said it, like – three times!"
"… Maybe Kindaichi considers us rivals," Kageyama says, turning back to the
window. "But I don't want to beat Kindaichi any more than anyone else."
Kageyama doesn't get angry when he remembers Kindaichi and Kunimi leaving him
on the court. He gets sad. Getting sad just makes him feel weak, and
directionless, so it's not a good rivalry. It isn't like Oikawa. Oikawa makes
him feel a lot of things – fear, and excitement, and ambition, and frustration,
and insecurity. Even the bad feelings are actually good, because all of them
motivate him to be a better player, push himself harder.
He presses his forehead against the glass, frowning.
"Are… you gonna miss the Grand King?" Hinata asks.
Kageyama stiffens, embarrassment heating his face from the way Hinata says
miss, teasing and sentimental. But then he relaxes, slumping against the window
again.
"Yeah," Kageyama says. "I will."
"Hmm," Hinata says. A long, long beat of considering silence. "I think I'll
miss him, too."
He's quiet the rest of the ride.
It's a rhythm Kageyama should be used to, he's never really struggled with
changing teams in the past, but it took a while to adjust to training without
Sawamura and Asahi, and as they unload the bus Kageyama finds himself missing
Sugawara.
Anyone could ask Sugawara anything, and even if the question was stupid or
obvious, Sugawara would answer – even if they didn't really know how to ask
yet, Sugawara usually had the missing words. Kageyama doesn't fully understand
his gloomy mood, and he thinks talking to Sugawara would help.
He knows this is the worst time to fall into a slump, too. Ennoshita has earned
their trust as captain during fall training, but it's still his first game in
the role, and confidence will be especially important, for every member of the
team. Just one dark mood can spread, infect players one by one like a cold.
It's each player's responsibility to find the right headspace before a game,
just like it is to warm up, show up well rested, with all their gear.
He grimaces under the pressure to fix it, and it only makes his mood grow
worse.
"Oi! What's with the grim face?" Tanaka asks as he passes by, slapping
Kageyama's back hard enough that he nearly drops his gym bag.
"Lighten up, it's just volleyball!" Nishinoya laughs loudly, slapping his back
even harder on the other side, and this time he does drop it.
Then again, distractions work, too.
~
Kitagawa Daiichi hasn't won the Junior High Athletics Meet since Ushijima
enrolled at Shiratorizawa.
It's frustrating for everyone, and Kageyama wants to beat them, but no one
wants it like Oikawa. Ushijima is a third year, like Oikawa, so they'll always
be against each other, every single year, even in high school.
Some of the other third years complain that Shiratorizawa Junior High Academy
is in the Miyagi prefecture at all, but Oikawa never does, at least not in
front of Kageyama. He's only ever confident: he talks about it like it's
inevitable Kitagawa Daiichi will win, like it's already happened, he says when
instead of if, and how much he's looking forward to seeing Ushijima's face once
he realizes he's lost.
It's finals now, though, almost at the end of their second set, and it's 13 to
20.
"Ushijima is serving next," Kindaichi says when the coach calls a timeout. "So
that means once we shut him down, he'll be in the back of the rotation for
three plays – then it's Oikawa-san's turn to serve! So we'll definitely catch
up."
Everyone seems to like this, nodding in agreement, but Kageyama frowns, finding
it very odd that Kindaichi would try to act like Ushijima serving is a good
thing.
"What if we can't shut Ushijima down?" Kageyama asks. He didn't say it very
loudly or anything, but everyone on the team turns to look at him anyway, like
he shouted it, all their smiles dying.
"What a stupid question, Tobio-chan!" Oikawa laughs.
Kageyama nearly squawks when two hands land on either side of his head, pulling
him away from the huddle.
"Good teams can lose, and weak teams can win," Oikawa says, shaking Kageyama's
head back and forth slightly. "Because of what they've got going on in here.
Got it?"
"Yes!" Kageyama agrees, quickly, just to get Oikawa to stop. Oikawa can
obviously tell, because he doesn't let go.
"The other team wants us to ask stupid questions like that," he says. "Because
once we start doing that, we're already planning on losing, got it?"
"Okay, okay!"
"Are you planning on losing, Tobio-chan?"
"No!" Kageyama says, and finally yanks himself free.
"Do you think we can cut Ushijima off at one, Tobio-chan?"
Kageyama opens his mouth, looking up at Oikawa. Oikawa glares down, his
expression tense and expecting, like he's really waiting for Kageyama's answer,
like it really matters, and he realizes that his doubt got to Oikawa a bit,
too.
"... Yes," Kageyama says.
"Why?"
"Because," Kageyama licks his lips, and looks over at Kindaichi, and Kunimi,
and Iwaizumi, and the others. He knows how good they are, he's seen it himself.
Ushijima's serves are strong, but Kageyama knows his team could stop them – and
they will. "We have a strong team."
They're just words, but he means them, and apparently they can tell.
Kageyama watches Kitagawa Daiichi's mood change, almost like magic. His
teammates stand taller, like weight has been lifted from their shoulders, their
expression growing focused and confident. He looks between Oikawa and the rest
of the team in surprise. Oikawa knew his words could do that – Kageyama didn't
even know, but Oikawa did. It's not possible, really, but sometimes it seems
like Oikawa-san does know everything.
They do shut Ushijima down, cutting him off at one serve, then, just like
Kindaichi said, hold out until Oikawa gets to serve. They win the set, but end
up losing the game.
~
"Who're we playing next?"
"Looks like… Sarayashiki," Tanaka says, searching on the roster. "Gym 4."
Ennoshita groans softly.
"What?"
"Are they strong?" Hinata asks, clearly hoping the answer is yes.
"Not sure," Ennoshita says. "Their school is a powerhouse in baseball and a few
other sports, but they've never really taken off in volleyball… I heard the
captain started recruiting students from other clubs this season. Players that
were benched because their own teams were so large, or kicked off because of
behavioral problems."
"That's dumb," Hinata says. "Baseball is nothing like volleyball."
"That's what I thought," Ennoshita says. "But they did make it to the second
tier…"
"And that's where we'll knock them out," Tanaka says, grinning.
Kageyama can feel a dark, answering grin staring to build inside himself, feels
a similar energy in the rest of the team –
"Need help with your bag?"
The mood drops.
All of Karasuno turns to look at the alpha who suddenly appeared next to
Tsukishima. Not exactly small, he's an average height, but at least a head
shorter than Tsukishima.
Kageyama can't see the expression on Tsukishima's face as he looks down at the
alpha, but it's obviously unpleasant from the way the alpha shrivels in on
himself, twitching like he wants to run.
"Gym 4," Tsukishima reminds them, turning away without a word to the alpha.
Tanaka and Nishinoya underscore the rejection with intense, goonish mugging as
the rest of them keep walking.
Several teams stop as they head to their next game, staring openly.
Karasuno, Kageyama hears them murmur, then nationals, then omegas. He can feel
Hinata's chest puffing up with pride as he walks alongside him, glancing up at
Kageyama occasionally with open admiration. It gets so embarrassing that
eventually Kageyama's forced to slug his shoulder.
"Ow!!! What was that for?"
"Stop it."
"I just like that we have a strong team!" Hinata scowls, rubbing at his
shoulder. And everyone knows it."
"It is a little better that last year," Yamaguchi says.
Kageyama grunts. There was a lot of taunting last year, a lot of condescending
pity. Even when they made it to a serious, competitive level in the games,
opponents were still treating them like a joke or a novelty. Kageyama will be
happy if that's all over.
They find a team of tall, wide players in gym 4. Sarayashiki is loud, and they
say gross things, and Kageyama feels each word testing his focus like an
obnoxious pebble getting flicked at his head.
"Be my omega, step on my face~"
Kageyama hates taunts like that, weird ones. He'd rather be told he sucked, or
asked if he's gotten lost on his way to cheer on his alpha, or anything else
that's straightforward, because last time he got Nishinoya to explain a weird
one, it had been way dirtier than he expected and he can only assume the rest
are the same, even though he's pretty sure this time there really can't be
anything perverted about asking for someone's smelly foot on their face. It's
just – weird.
"If the little prince needs a seat during the game, he can use my face ~"
Weird – and definitely perverted, because all the third years react to that,
even Ennoshita drops the ball he's holding.
"Shut up!" Hinata shouts.
"If they didn't want us to look, they wouldn't be walking around in that slutty
uniform!"
"Oi," Tsukishima says, tossing a volleyball toward Kageyama's face sharply. He
barely catches it in time, annoyed, until he sees Tsukishima's expression.
Tsukishima has a way of smiling with just his eyes, and a turn of his head. It
is a very, very mean smile, and Kageyama looks over at Sarayashiki again,
ignoring their taunts and actually watching the warm up.
... There's no balance. They can probably all spike as strong as Asahi, but he
doesn't see any real speed, or any impressive receives. He can't even tell who
the setter is.
The Iron Wall is supported tirelessly by the rest of their diverse team,
filling in the holes left by having three giants that specialize in blocking.
Even super ace Ushijima needed to have a team built around him. Sarayashiki has
no support that Kageyama can see, and the holes only get more and more blatant
as the warm ups continue.
Yamaguchi is nice, and he doesn't think about things like this, and Asahi was
probably too nervous to ever bother – and they've never spoken about it out
loud, but Kageyama knows Tsukishima understands the very specific bliss of
shutting down alpha players, especially very unpleasant ones.
Kageyama shares his own mean grin with Tsukishima, and for once it's the two of
them jogging out to the court first instead of Hinata.
This is going to be fun.
~
Oikawa wore an omega uniform in junior high, and Kageyama had done the same
without thinking twice about it.
Things were different after Oikawa graduated to high school, though, and
Kageyama was the only omega on the team, often in the entire tournament. Oikawa
knows how to get people to treat him kindly, and make them regret it when they
don't. Kageyama doesn't, and without the implied protection of Oikawa, he found
the number of nasty taunts only growing by the year.
At Karasuno, he's handed a sheet to order his uniform, and he realizes it's a
chance pick something different, if he wants to. Something that would get less
attention. It sounds like hiding, though, and that makes him scowl.
"Are you… trying to make other players underestimate you?"
Sugawara looks up in surprise. Tanaka overhears Kageyama's question and glares,
immediately ready to fight. He thinks it was an insult and Kageyama bites his
tongue, scowling, defensive. He doesn't have the words to explain himself and
he's still got bad habits from his last team. He wants to shout, but holds it
in.
Sugawara spots the order form in Kageyama's hand and it visibly clicks on is
face. "Ah. By dressing like an omega?"
Kageyama nods shortly, both thankful and embarrassed.
"No," Sugawara says. "It wouldn't work very well either, most alphas go harder
on omegas, if anything."
"Oh."
Sugawara sets aside the mop he was cleaning with, and hops up to sit on the
platform Kageyama was writing on. "Did Hinata ever tell you why he started
playing?"
Kageyama rolls his eyes. Hinata tells everyone. "The Little Giant."
"He saw a short player," Sugawara says. "And he's short, so anytime anyone says
to him that he can't play, he remembers that the Little Giant did. So, I think,
if people see more omegas playing, it might help them believe they can play,
too."
Kageyama looks down at the uniform order form.
Kageyama's mother had to drive to Kageyama's school in elementary and yell at
both the gym teacher and the principal so that Kageyama could play on the team.
She had to do it at the start of every year, and again when the gym teacher
retired and they brought in a new one. He knows he's lucky, because a lot of
parents wouldn't have bothered even if they didn't mind their omega playing a
sport.
"Plus," Sugawara leans down, pretending to whisper but the next thing he says
is loud, and he looks directly at their ace, who is rolling up the net. "Asahi
was too shy to be the only one wearing it."
"Hey!" he says, blushing.
"But either one is good!" Sugawara says. "Whatever one you'll play best in is
the one you should pick, I think."
~
"As promised," Ukai says. Both he and Takeda are smiling, but neither of them
look especially happy. "You received more than a third of the serves today, so
you get your pick of where you want to go in Osaka before going home."
"We're going on the Ferris wheel!! Then the aquarium, then – "
"The park!!"
"Ferris wheel, aquarium," Ukai grimaces. "Then the park," he says. "Then we'll
head – "
"There's an ice cream shop in Naniwa serving cactus flavor all this week – "
"Amerikamura's got a new show – "
"Can we go to Spa World?!"
"Ah!! Spa World!" Hinata gasps when he hears that, eyes shining. "Kageyama,
we'll go there instead of the Ferris Wheel."
"I want to watch the rest of the tournament."
Everyone stares at Kageyama, like they think it was a really bad joke, but it
wasn't, so he just stares back. Spa World sounds like fun, but there are teams
outside of Miyagi prefecture here. He's excited at the chance to see them play.
"Alright," Ukai says, rubbing at his forehead. "Kageyama, I think there's two
more rounds – you can stay until the end, then catch the bullet train home?
It's right outside."
Kageyama nods, and stops listening as the rest of the team is split up into
groups.
Hinata is annoyed that Kageaya didn't go with him to Spa World, and makes faces
at him as he leaves, saying he's going to send lots of pictures to make
Kageyama jealous, then Kageyama reminds him that taking photos in a spa is
illegal, and he'll just get arrested for being a pervert.
The last two rounds are powerhouse schools and they're both solid, intense
games. Kageyama is excited – at first he's only watching to compare against
Karasuno, to see how they stack up, but soon he gets distracted by the games
themselves, impressed by the new and different playing styles. He thinks Hinata
would've liked this, too, and it seems like Hinata was thinking along the same
lines, because there are messages waiting by the time the last game ends.
Hinata:
Still at spawrold!!
u should come!!!!!!!
Is the tournament over yet?
COME TO SPA WORLD!!!!!
Me:
ok
Hinata:
(➲ ᗜ ➲)!!!!!!!!!!
c u soon yamayama!!!!!!!!!
Kageyama scoffs. He walks out of the auditorium with the rest of the crowd,
looking up directions to Spa World on his phone, but he gets overwhelmed by the
dizzying mass of unfamiliar, tiny side streets. He decides to simply follow the
arrows at the top, turning his phone a few different ways to try to orient it
correctly. He knows he messed up when the Spa World dot gets smaller, and
further away, after he walks a block.
He turns around to head the other direction, and his phone struggles to adjust
to the change of direction, and then dies.
Kageyama stares down at the black screen, feeling betrayed, then glances around
his surroundings properly for the first time – the crowd passing around him,
the utterly unfamiliar streets and buildings. He turns around, and when he
realizes he can't even spot the Osaka auditorium, starts to feel a little
nervous.
But, he has his charger in his bag, and there's no way Osaka doesn't have
outlets. He keeps calm, clenching his dead phone in his hand as he wanders
deeper into Osaka in search of a coffee shop. It doesn't take long at all, and
he quickly sits down at a table with an outlet beside it.
They must be used to people in this situation, though, because as he pulls out
his charger, a waitress comes over and tells him loitering isn't allowed, and
he'll have to buy something in order stay.
He walks up to the register with the intention of getting chocolate milk, one
of the few things that he can actually recognize on the menu, but the beta at
the register wonders if he'd like a chocolate mocca instead. The suggestion is
a startling and exciting one, and he says yes. Some of his classmates drink
coffee regularly, but he never has, it never really occurred to him to even try
it, and he feels very daring as he takes the cup back to his table.
This feeling dies after the first sip.
The sugary chocolate isn't nearly enough to cover the drink's overwhelmingly
bitter taste, and he sets it down on the table with a grimace. He doesn't even
have water to wash it out of his mouth.
"Here alone?" an alpha asks, smiling sweetly from the table across from him.
Kageyama glances first at her, then to the empty chair across from him.
She smiles again. "So am I. You go to school out here?"
"No," Kageyama says. "I'm in Osaka for a tournament."
"Ah, should've guessed from the uniform!" she says. "You know, I love sporty
omegas."
Kageyama nods, because he can tell she wants a response, and he guesses what
she said wasn't objectionable.
She laughs lightly. "I love shy omegas, too." She winks.
Kageyama feels his face heat, realizing that she is flirting. He presses a
little roughly on his phone, hoping to see it turn on, but it's still charging,
stuck on the logo screen.
"Are you enjoying the city?"
"It's big," he says, annoyed as he remembers the confusing map on his phone.
"... How old are you?"
"Sixteen," he says, because he basically is, just a few months away.
"Ah," she says, eyebrows flying upward, demeanor changing completely. "You're,
ah – tall for your age."
"Yeah."
"Isn't it a little – late for you to be out alone? Downtown?"
"I'm meeting up with my friends after my phone charges."
"Good, good," she says, looking genuinely comforted by that. "Well, better
hurry before some alphas decide to snatch you up anyway!"
He grunts vaguely at that, and she thankfully decides to leave him alone from
there. By the time his phone turns on again, there are messages waiting.
Hinata:
ಠ╭╮ಠ
going home now yamayamam
u SUCK!!!!!!
hey ask ur mom if we can go to spa world next wekend or s omething
Me:
Maybe
Hinata:
its so cool u can stay in the hotel
and theres food
and 3 pools 2 slides
u can tell me what the omega spas look like!!!!!
also
tanaka wants 2 know where u are
so do I!!!! young man!!! ಠ~ಠ
Me:
on my way home
He waits for Hinata to ask what took so long, already defensive about having to
admit he got lost, but he just starts going on about Spa World again.
Kageyama decides not to risk his phone dying by looking up directions,
wandering a little hopelessly until he sees signs posted along the main street,
with an arrow pointing to the bullet train. He's eventually forced to walk
through the busiest areas of Osaka, which is uncomfortably full of older, drunk
people. He's been tall enough to get looks since he was in junior high, and
he's used to the blank, lingering stares, but he blushes hard when he sees a
beta and omega making out in public, grinding against each other lewdly.
He wishes his team was with him – even if it was just Hinata, the scene would
turn into something to snicker at, but instead he just shuffles by with his
hands in his pockets, miserably.
~
"How are your teammates?"
"I like them," Kageyama says. "Kindaichi thinks I can be a setter, I want to do
that after Oikawa-san leaves."
"Kindaichi is the beta?" his mother asks.
"No," Kageyama says. "Kunimi. Kindaichi is an alpha."
"Do you like Kindaichi?"
Kageyama frowns.
"Pfft," his mother laughs, glancing in the review mirror. "Look at that pout,
my god. I guess not?"
"No," Kageyama says, but he's not mad about that, he's mad because it reminds
him about the bus, about how everyone was making fun of him, saying he likes
volleyballs, and not people. He frowns tighter. "I don't want to talk about
that stuff."
"Alright," his mother says, still sounding amused. "To be honest, I'm a little
relieved you're a late bloomer."
Kageyama grows quiet, wondering if she's going to talk about his father, and
bonds, and other sad things.
"After that alpha in preschool – "
"Mom," Kageyama slumps against the window, not interested in this topic at all,
because he was just a baby and didn't know any better, and it wasn't even his
idea, and his mother just likes to see him get upset anyway.
He can hear her smile as she keeps going. "I thought junior high was going to
be a nightmare!"
"Stop," he says.
"No, really," she says, voice serious again. "Keep your head out of all that
nonsense as long a you can, Tobio. Omegas need alphas like a fish needs a
bicycle."
Kageyama runs his finger down the side of the window, thinking. Thinking about
Oikawa's winking face, and the way he smiled when he said of course! he likes
other omegas.
"What about omegas?" he asks. "Like. Omega liking another omega? Is that
alright?"
They're at a stoplight, so his mother can put her forehead against the steering
wheel, sighing heavily. "I just jinxed it, didn't I? Yes, Tobio," she says.
"And I was joking, before. You can like whoever – whatever. It's all alright."
Kageyama nods, fiddling with window latch, and doesn't think about anything in
particular, because it's a pretty boring topic overall, really.
~
"You human yet?"
Kageyama is resting against someone's warm chest, blinking awake slowly. His
face is aching and sore, like he took a spike to the cheek, and he groans
slightly as he lifts his head.
He's jarred to immediate and full wakefulness at the sight of Oikawa's face.
He makes some stupid, gurgled noise of surprise, but Oikawa ignores it.
"Anyone tell you what's going on?" he asks.
Kageyama shakes his head.
"We need to finish bonding."
"Bond.. ing?"
"Guess I buried the lead," Oikawa says, blowing at some of his floppy bangs in
his eyes. "We started to bond."
"… We're bonded?" Kageyama asks, his understanding and feeling of horror rising
together.
"Almost," Oikawa says. "If we keep trying. You're so cute when you're sleeping
so maybe you should just go back to doing that and we'll finish in no time!" He
pinches Kageyama's cheek. Kageyama yanks back.
"Wh- when?" Kageyama demands, fear intense enough to make his eyes sting as he
sits up onto his knees. He looks down and sees they're both wearing hospital
gowns, and he can taste the nasty remains of his sickness earlier. "Why?"
"Don't get so enthused, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, squirming like a child trying
to get comfortable, pulling blankets up to cover the side Kageyama left. "My
ego's big enough as it is."
"A bond isn't something to joke about, Oikawa-san!"
"I'm not joking," Oikawa says.
They glare at each other, and Kageyama realizes he's breathing heavily.
"Seriously, you're reacting worse than I did."
"Bonds – aren't something to joke about!" Kageyama repeats, miserably. When his
mother finds out... Kageyama nearly sways, several realizations hitting him all
at once. Bonded. Oikawa raises an eyebrow.
"You're really freaked out."
"You're not?!"
"We all cope differently, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, lightly. "But you'll be the
one telling the doctor if you decide not to try. They seemed to think it was
very important."
"I need to – I need – " Kageyama says, shaking his head as he crawls backward,
off the bed, following a building desire for escape, to get clean, and have
some privacy. "I need to shower."
Oikawa gestures vaguely behind him, and Kageyama sees an attached bathroom. "I
don't know if there's a washroom in there, though."
Kageyama stumbles a bit on his feet, swaying again. Back to bed, his body
immediately warns him, back to Oikawa's warmth and scent, but Kageyama ignores
it and keeps going.
It is a washroom, and it's western style, the kind he saw in the international
hotel they stayed at when Karasuno went to nationals, with the bathtub and
shower combined, and the shower head mounted high on the wall, unable to move.
Kageyama swallows weakly as he braces himself against the side of the tub,
yanking off the paper-like gown. By the time he gets in the tub, his balance
has suffered so much that he doesn't even attempt to stand, simply sitting
there under the warm spray.
It feels like there's nothing in his mind but high pitched static - he can't
think, but cannot relax, and the anxiousness only builds the longer he sits
there.
He remembers the awful, dizzy, throbbing headache he first woke up with at the
hospital and knows, now, it wasn't the result of a head injury like the doctors
were afraid. It was the bond, screaming to be completed, and this is the start
of it happening again. He'll fight it! Kageyama decides. He'll outlast it! But
as soon as he thinks that especially stupid thought, he hears Oikawa's
unimpressed voice. Can you count, Tobio-can? He remembers the brutal slam onto
the floor of the train, struggling to breathe through blood, held down by
someone he can't fight - he bites down on his fist, chest shaking.
Back to bed, back to bed, his body demands in response, as if that will help
with the terrible memories in his head, the need growing until it's fogging up
his mind. He left something important there, something he needs, it will help.
The fact that it's Oikawa, and he logically knows he doesn't need Oikawa for
anything, doesn't shut the voice up at all. The privacy of the shower feels
more like being trapped, something pressing down around him, and he knows its
the cause of his headache starting up again.
The curtain is suddenly pulled back violently – the relief of seeing Oikawa
standing there is so intense Kageyama nearly sobs.
He doesn't seem to be doing any better than Kageyama, leaning heavily against
the wall, pulling off his gown with one clumsy hand and stepping heavily into
the tub beside him.
"Move," Oikawa grunts, but he doesn't really say how, and there's really
nowhere for Kageyama to go, but they slowly settle into something of a
comfortable position, pressed closely together, Oikawa's head against his
shoulder as he shudders in long, shaking breaths, occasionally clinging tight
enough to Kageyama to bruise.
He needs Kageyama.
The realization is so strange Kageyama doesn't know what to do with the
thought, other than place it in a very prominent place in his mind and consider
it from a distance.
Oikawa – needs him.
"Sorry," he says, though he doesn't know why. Oikawa doesn't ask. They sit
under the warm spray for a while, long enough that Kageyama could almost fall
asleep again, feeling warm and safe. Instead, Oikawa stands up.
"Here," he says, passing Kageyama the shampoo, which reminds Kageyama of – the
mess in his hair.
He takes it, climbs to his feet and grits his teeth, closing his eyes tight as
he works the foam in, unable to stop the distressed, strangled, choking noise
when his fingers brush against a patch of clumped, filthy hair, disgust
traveling through his body, freezing him up.
Oikawa knocks Kageyama's hands away and takes over with a short, put upon sigh,
scrubbing Kageyama's hair thoroughly. Kageyama allows it, reminded of baths he
took as a young child with his sister, and that, plus the building need to have
as much contact with Oikawa as possible, calms Kageyama down significantly,
even when Oikawa roughly swaps places with him, pushing Kageyama under the
shower head.
Despite everything, Kageyama pauses rinsing his hair to watch, curious to see
Oikawa's own hair washing routine. Disappointingly, it isn't especially
different from his own.
"What were you expecting?" Oikawa scoffs, working the shampoo into his hair,
and Kageyama shrugs vaguely. Oikawa frowns after looking around the bathroom.
"Well, there's no conditioner. Do you use that?"
"No," Kageyama says.
"There you have it," Oikawa says, having to bend to get his hair under the
spray. "I use Tsubaki."
When his hair dries, it's still as floppy and shiny as ever even without his
Tsubaki conditioner, but Oikawa seems unhappy with it, continually running his
fingers through it and frowning.
They've been given some hospital scrubs to change into, but they're too small
for either of them, and Oikawa rolls up the legs to make proper, knee-length
shorts. Kageyama's dirty clothes have been taken away, but his gym bag is
sitting beside a dresser, and he digs through it to find his phone. He has to
scroll past several messages about Spa World to get to the newest ones.
Hinata:
text when you get home ok
did u get on the wrong train again haha
did u take earlier train???
Tanaka is gonna call the cops!!!!!!!!!
cuz it's so late!!!!!!!!!!!
seriously!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NO JOKE!!!!!!!!
ANSWER BAKAYAMA!!!!!
Me:
not going home tonight
at the hospital
Hinata:
NOT FUNNY!!!!! ヾ(｡｀Д´｡)ﾉ
Me:
it wasn't supposed to be
something happened on the train home
Hinata:
what happened??? Are u ok???
what happened??
where r u????????
t
What happened???? r u alone??
does ur mom know?????
r u bleeding?? r you okay????????
KGAYAMAA!
Me:
Oikawa's here
Hinata:
WHAT?????????????????????????
Kageyama actually winces when he gets the text, unable to handle Hinata's
energy. He silences his phone, flipping it face down on the mattress.
"Your mom?" Oikawa asks.
"No," Kageyama says. "A friend."
"Tobio-chan has friends," Oikawa says, and seems genuinely surprised. Kageyama
glares. "Oh – was it Chibi-chan?"
Kageyama doesn't answer, but Oikawa lets it go, doesn't seem to truly care,
maybe only needling Kageyama out of habit.
He's still messing with his hair, and honestly seems more concerned about it
than anything else, including their bond, which he talks about like it's
nothing, no big deal at all. "They think it'll take a week if it's stubborn,
but that's not too long, hm? A nice vacation from classes. Once we finish
bonding, we'll have a year to figure out the rest of it."
Kageyama sits up. "A... temporary bond?" he asks. He's never heard of something
like that.
"No, it'll be a real one, but that's when they think it'll be stable enough to
sever," Oikawa says.
"Sever?" Kageyama repeats, numbly.
"Really?" Oikawa asks, pulling his bangs down between two fingers, narrowing
his eyes at it accusingly. "You looked like you were about the jump out the
window when I said we had to bond, now you're upset about it severing?"
"That's what makes it so bad!" Kageyama shouts, then feels stupid, because the
room is already silent, it's late, this is a hospital – Oikawa doesn't tell him
to be quiet though, just stares with surprised, wide eyes.
"Yeah," he finally says, slowly. "I heard that's the rough part. Iwaizumi's
aunt or something tried to sever a bond, I heard it was – rough."
Kageyama doesn't say anything, glaring down at his fists on the bed.
"But," Oikawa says, voice upbeat and happy again. "We can't look up, right?
Only forward!"
"What?"
"We don't have a choice," Oikawa laughs a little, and it sounds – terrifying.
Kageyama risks a glance up and sees Oikawa's smile is a little manic, too. "I
mean, when you left the room I felt like someone was gutting me or something.
We have to finish the bond, or - "
"What about Iwaizumi-san?" Kageyama asks as it occurs to him, then immediately
regrets it. He breath catches at a sudden, sharp jab of deep, profound pain in
his chest.
He just – he just felt Oikawa's pain. Because they're bonded, or well on the
way.
"We'll just have to see what happens, I suppose," Oikawa hums easily, and
there's no hint at all of the pain Kageyama felt in Oikawa's voice or face.
"Sorry," he mutters, because the sting from asking about Iwaizumi is still so
sharp it makes Kageyama want to rub at an invisible wound on his chest.
Oikawa dismisses it, waving his hand. "As I was saying. If we don't sort this
out, we're going to be stuck 5 feet from each other for the rest of our lives.
I don't know about you, but."
He doesn't bother to finish, both hands back in his hair.
Kageyama stares, opens his mouth, then looks around the room.
It's small. Two beds, but they're sharing one. It's cold. It's painted pale
blue. There are two imposing medical devices Kageyama doesn't recognize pushed
into a corner. There's a privacy curtain that could be pulled shut. There's
overhead lights but they're off, the room is lit by a small lamp on a bedside
table. It's still dark out, Kageyama can see city lights in the far distance
through the window, impossibly out of reach.
"How?" he finally asks. In movies and shows, bonding is always shown as a
dramatic and instant thing, linked closely to love. That's how Kageyama's
mother spoke about her own bond, too. How could any of that ever happen with
Oikawa?
Oikawa is puffing out his cheeks like he's wondering the same. "Not sure,
frankly. I've been trying to remember - to think about - how it started." He
stops, lips pressed together, suddenly uncomfortable, but whatever he's feeling
isn't going through the bond, so Kageyama can only guess.
"We started to bond because we were attacked," Kageyama says.
"Yeah."
He remembers a beer bottle, broken, the sharp, dripping edge pushed closer and
closer to his eye, the fist yanking at his hair, keeping him trapped in place.
He bites his lip, and feels a crushing inescapable sadness and exhaustion. It
wants to escape him as tears, but he just feels too tired.
Oikawa closes his eyes, sighing heavily.
Kageyama felt Oikawa's pain about Iwaizumi, so he wonders if Oikawa felt any of
that – felt any of Kageyama's pain since he woke up? He thinks the answer is
probably yes when Oikawa grabs his sleeve, tugging him closer again. Laying
down next to Oikawa helps of course, helps a lot. They shift a little to find a
more comfortable position, easier than it was in the shower. The unhurt side of
Kageayama's face pressed against Oikawa's chest again, and after some silence
to calm down, he can hear Oikawa's heart beat.
A bond. With Oikawa.. For a year, at least.
He wonders how tall he'll be in a year. If he'll still have to lay down next to
Oikawa like this, if they'll still fit comfortably.
After junior high he stopped drinking strawberry milk, because it always
reminded him of Oikawa, and that would make the rest of his day complicated.
But he really does like how Oikawa smells. Instead of trying to ignore it like
usual, he focuses in on it.
At least Oikawa is actually trying – or is trying to try. He actually feels a
rush of gratitude for it, though from a realistic standpoint it wasn't as
though Oikawa had any other option. Being unpleasant would've sabotaged
himself.
His phone chimes a notification he's not familiar with – he's already learned
to tune out the one for Hinata – and he lifts his head, grabbing for his phone
blindly.
Iwaizumi:
You awake?
Kageyama stares, stunned.
Me:
Yes
Iwaizumi:
How are you?
Me:
tired
Kageyama sniffs, wipes at his face, wincing as he rubs against tender flesh.
Me:
sore
Iwaizumi is typing a long time before a short message finally appears.
Iwaizumi:
It shouldn't have happened.
Me:
yeah
Iwaizumi:
I'm sorry.
Kageyama swallows, feeling oddly soothed by the conversation, settling nerves
he hadn't fully be aware of. Without them rattling around, he's suddenly aware
of how tired he actually is, and he drops his head back onto Oikawa's shoulder,
eyes heavy.
Me:
Yeah
im going to sleep
Iwaizumi:
can I talk to Oikawa?
"Iwaizumi-san," Kageyama says, dropping his phone on Oikawa's neck.
"What?" Oikawa sputters, then takes the phone. After a beat, "You're really
trusting me with your phone, Tobio-chan?"
Kageayama shrugs, his thoughts already fuzzing out as he starts to doze. He
knows other people have secrets on their phones, but Kageyama just uses it to
talk to his family and teammates, and wake up on time for school and practice.
"There's only like, seventy pictures on here." Oikawa sounds disappointed.
"How many do you have?" Kageyama asks, without opening his eyes.
"Like – five thousand?"
Kageyama stares up in shock.
Oikawa is frowning, flicking his forefinger across the screen of Kageyama's
phone. "Mm, I guess I'm doomed to attract phone Luddites."
Whatever that means. Kageyama relaxes again has almost managed to fall asleep
when the door opens.
"Tooru...?" a woman asks, softly. "How are you?"
"Never better," Oikawa says, and hands Kageyama his phone again. "Where's dad?"
"Still in the lobby. They're only letting one beta in to visit until you finish
your bond – ah, hello. Kageayama Tobio?"
"Hello," Kageyama says.
"I'm Tooru's mother," she says, gently. Her hair is pulled up into a sloppy
ponytail, and she looks incredibly stressed, though she tries to smile. "I'm so
sorry about what happened to both of you."
Kageyama nods, and feels rude for not getting up, but it's not going to happen,
and Oikawa's mother doesn't seem to expect it to.
"They're afraid anyone with especially strong pheromones could disrupt the
bonding process," she says, looking back to to her son. "So our visits will
have to be short. Did they tell you the good news?"
"What," Oikawa's voice actually shakes with his laughter. "On earth could
possibly be good news right now?"
His mother presses her lips together in regret. "Well," she says, "It doesn't
sound like you two will be stuck together! All you'll have to do is wait a
year, and then you can sever the bond."
Kageyama doesn't realize his plummeting mood until Oikawa's hand rests on the
back of his neck. Maybe it's supposed to be a warning, but Oikawa doesn't have
to worry, the last thing Kageyama wants to do is get in a fight with his
mother. He just closes his eyes, and stops listening.
~
"Tobio," his sister, Atsuko, is shaking him. "Wake up."
"Why? It's early," Tobio says, rolling out of her reach, closer to the wall.
"Because," she says, rolling him back again. "Dad's in the hospital."
Tobio sits up.
"Mom's already there," Atsuko says, going to Tobio's dresser, grabbing a pair
of pants and tossing it at him.
"Did he do it again?" Tobio asks.
Atusko pauses for a moment, then nods, grabbing a t-shirt and throwing that at
Tobio, too.
"Hurry up," she says, and leaves the room so Tobio can get dressed.
As long as Tobio remembers, his mother and father have been divorced, and their
bond severed. He lives with his mother, even though she's an alpha, because
severing bonds is very hard on omegas. Even though it's been six years, his
father is still unstable, and not a fit parent, and sometimes goes to the
hospital because he hurt himself very badly.
"Bonds are so fucking stupid," Atsuko says, darkly, as she drives to the
hospital. "Mom and Dad were stupid for doing it."
Tobio doesn't say anything. He knows his parents were very young when they
bonded, still in high school, and he knows everyone says it was a mistake, but
he likes both of his parents, and his sister, and himself, too much to
understand how he's supposed to hate that like everyone else does.
"I'm never bonding, especially not with an omega," Atsuko says.
"But then we wouldn't have been born," Tobio says.
"You can mate without bonding. You can get married without bonding," she says.
She gets really upset when their father hurts himself. When she was Tobio's
age, everything was still happy and their mother says Atsuko takes it
personally. "The only people who bond have something to prove. It's so –
tacky."
Tobio's father has hurt himself five times. Each time they've gone to the
hospital and get to spend the whole day with him, even if it's a school day,
and they get to eat out for lunch and dinner. Tobio knows it's sad, but his
father is always really happy to see Tobio, and he likes to spend time with
him, so Tobio is impatient when they get out of the car. He hops up and down a
little on his feet while his sister grabs her school bag and books from the
back.
"Come on!" he says, hurrying to the doors, then scowling when Astuko grabs his
hand to slow him down.
"Don't run through a parking lot, idiot," she mutters.
Atsuko sounds kind of bored and angry when she gives the front desk her name
and asks about her father. He's annoyed when the nurse tells them to go to the
waiting room instead of giving them a room number, though, and when they get
there, a doctor waiting for them, and their mother's eyes are red.
"There's some bad news," his mother says, holding out a hand for Tobio, and he
takes it, confused, and his mother lifts him up onto her lap.
His sister is not confused. She takes a step back.
"He's dead," Atsuko says, voice shaking. She's looking at their mother instead
of the doctor. "Isn't he?"
The doctor presses their lips together. "This attempt wasn't any more severe
than the ones in the past, but the accumulative damage on his heart – "
"Fuck," Atsuko drops her books and her bag, and slams the door when she leaves
the room.
Tobio looks between the doctor and his mother. "Did he really die?" he asks.
His mother nods, and holds him very tight. He feels confused, mostly, because
all the people he knows who are dead are very old, and he also just saw his
father very recently, so it thinks there might be a mistake, but his mother has
put her head against his hair and started crying, so instead he just hugs her
back and sits quietly.
~
It wasn't his father, it was the bond. It's the mantra Kageyama grew up with.
Talking about bonds was an awkward thing for his sister, and outright taboo for
Kageyama himself. He never really bothered to learn about them, because he
figured it would never apply, because he couldn't see any possible future that
would involve them.
"You drooled."
Kageyama lifts his head, blinking heavily, too out of it to even be
embarrassed, wiping at his face.
"Get up, I want to take this off," Oikawa says, yanking the portion of his
shirt with the visible wet mark away from his chest. Kageyama wants to snicker
at his annoyance, shifting up onto his hands and knees, until he hears another
person's weight shift, and remembers Oikawa's mother is in the room, sitting on
the bed across from them.
Now it is a little embarrassing.
Oikawa lays back down, and tugs Kageyama back into his previous position.
"Your friends showed up. Wanna talk to them?" Oikawa says, handing the phone to
Kageyama, but he pushes it back.
"… You sure?"
Kageyama nods.
"Chibi-chan's been texting like. A lot."
"He always does."
"Alright," Oikawa says, disbelieving.
"I'm sure they're just worried," Oikawa's mother says.
"Yes," Kageyama mutters, it's the only respectful response he can think to say.
If he could, Kageyama would be alone right now. He feels uncomfortable with his
body in a way that makes him want to go for a jog, to run as fast and as hard
as possible, to sweat and push everything awful outside of it, until his
muscles ache from it, burned clean.
The last thing he wants to do is talk, especially not to his friends, who will
ask lots of questions, and will not stop.
He's starting to feel anger, now, resenting them, and Oikawa's mother, and
Oikawa, and the drool on Oikawa's shirt. He grips the sheets beneath him, the
frustration of wanting to be alone and being stuck hitting him hard.
"So, Tobio," Oikawa's mother says, pleasantly. "Tooru says you play volleyball,
too?"
"Ah, mother," Oikawa says a little weakly, putting his hand on the back of
Kageyama's head, maybe as just a barrier between the two of them. He must feel
it, Kageyama's anger, and lack of patience, and his want to yell at just about
anyone. He still can't imagine yelling at someone's mother, though. "I think
Tobio-chan is still sleepy."
"Mm," she says. "How about you, Tooru? Have you slept at all?"
He makes a vague noise. "Here and there."
They continue to talk, and Kageyama frowns as a thought occurs to him. Outside
of that single stab of pain when he mentioned Iwaizumi, he hasn't felt anything
from Oikawa at all, but Oikawa is apparently feeling most of what Kageyama is
feeling.
From what he understands about bonds – the traditional bond between an alpha
and omega – an omega feels most of what an alpha is feeling, but an alpha only
gets vague impressions. Alphas are rarely bothered by severed bonds, because
they don't really change much to start with. Omegas are the ones that get most
of the benefit and pain, though – he's never really heard of any benefits. So
just pain, then.
Is a bond between omegas... different? Or is it because the bond isn't
complete? Is it because Kageyama's feelings are stronger than Oikawa's? But he
barely wonders that before dismissing it completely; he's seen it firsthand,
several times, the sudden and overwhelming depth of Oikawa's anger.
He's not sure how he feels about it being because of the partial bond, and the
promise of being able to see into Oikawa's head, all the time, in the future.
He doesn't need to sleep, and lays there in a bored sort of trance as Oikawa
and his mother continue to talk, until she shifts around like she's about to
stand.
"Well it's about time I gave Tobio's friend a chance to visit, I think," she
says, picking up her purse.
Kageyama lifts his head, blinking in surprise.
"A young man named Sugawara Koshi," she says, digging through her purse. "I
thought I mentioned that when I came back from visiting the nurse?"
"You did," Oikawa says, and almost sounds fond about it as he taps against
Kageyama's head, but he's too shaken to care. "Tobio-chan is a bit of an
airhead."
"Tooru," she tsks lightly. "Anyway, I'm sure he's eager to see his friend – "
Kageyama drops his head back to the bed. "That's okay."
"Eh?"
Sugawara – is the absolute last person Kageyama wants to see. He'd rather
Kindaichi, he'd rather Satori Tendo. He doesn't want to talk to Sugawara for
the same reasons he wanted to before the tournament.
Sugawara knows.
He'll – he'll just know. It won't matter what Kageyama says, Sugawara will see
through it, to things Kageyama doesn't even want to think about yet.
Neither Oikawa or his mother seem to have taken Kageyama seriously though, as
she's heading for the door.
"See if you can get me my phone," Oikawa says, quickly, obviously reminding
her.
"I know, and decent conditioner, and shampoo," she says. "Let me know if Tobio
needs anything, it won't be a problem."
Kageyama nods goodbye, and there's a strained beat where whatever farewell they
usually give one another is apparently felt to be too private in front of
Kageyama. Eventually she just nods.
"Get some rest, alright?"
"You, too. Say hi to dad – and Hana! And Ya-chan! And don't forget – "
"Conditioner, I know," she says, and is rolling her eyes and she leaves.
"Goodness."
The door closes and there's a quiet moment where he feels like Oikawa's sizing
him up for some reason, waiting for him to say something.
"Your mother's nice," Kageyama guesses.
"She is," Oikawa agrees.
The door is at the foot of the bed they're sharing, and they are both tall –
it's not exactly hard for Kageyama to reach out and block the door with his
foot, knocking it shut again after Sugawara starts to open it.
There's a confused beat, and then a knock at the door.
"Uh," Oikawa says, staring in confusion. "You… gonna get that?"
Kageyama shakes his head sharply. "No," he says.
"What is your problem?" Oikawa asks, but it sounds like a genuine question,
rubbing at his chest as though wounded, like Kageyama had when he mentioned
Iwaizumi. "He's that setter right? You got along with him."
Sugawara knocks again, and Oikawa gets up to answer the door, so Kageyama
shuffles down the bed to block it more properly with his whole leg –
"I said I don't want to talk to – " Kageyama says, but Oikawa has the balance
to grab him by the leg and simply tip him out of the way. "Hey!"
Kageyama falls to the floor, jumping to his feet as the door opens, anger going
right to panic when he sees Oikawa's hand on the knob. "Stop!"
Still looking more confused than anything else, Oikawa doesn't listen, and
opens the door.
~
"I mean, no, it's not her fault, of course not," whispered in another room.
"It's just – you know. Omegas after that. They're just ruined, aren't they?"
"What's sad is she thinks we can't tell."
"Well, she's trying."
"She should've tried harder then, and it wouldn't be an issue, would it?"
~
Kageyama is reaching out to stop it, feeling suddenly terrified, until his eyes
land on Sugawara on the other side.
He doesn't know what he expected.
It felt like something bad, but – it's just Sugawara. He looks worried as he
peers into the room, then relieved when he catches sight of Kageyama. Not –
angry or disgusted, he doesn't look like he knows the bad things that happened
to him, he just looks like – normal, like he does every day. He doesn't know
why Sugawara's eyes suddenly go wide with concern at first, then he feels his
chest shake with tears – he didn't think he had any left.
"Tobio," he says, and they've never – hugged or anything. Sugawara is very
physical with his teammates, Kageyama watched him punch and kick all of them
one after another when entering a game, and he was constantly touching Asahi
and Sawamura, but he's always kept a respectful distance from Kageyama.
He's surprised at how easy it is when Sugawara steps close, both arms wrapping
around him tightly, no hesitation, one hand at the back of Kageyama's neck,
encouraging his head down to Sugawara's shoulder.
"Yeah," Oikawa says, still sounding confused, letting the door shut. "That's
what I thought."
***** Chapter Six *****
"Hinata said he did really well during the tournament."
Kageyama scoffs.
"No?" Sugawara laughs.
"His digs don't suck as much as they did last year," Kageyama admits,
reluctantly. "He still can't hit a decent straight."
"Oh? Did he try?"
"Against Tokonami," he says. "It was out."
Kageyama's head is in Sugawara's lap. He hasn't laid like this since he was a
small child, not with anyone, not even his mother. The questions keep coming,
and Kageyama knows his answers are awkward and lacking, but Sugawara still
asks, about each game, each set, each point, each play. Easy, undemanding, and
his fingers light and gentle as they slowly comb through Kageyama's hair.
He is relaxed, but across from them, in the other bed, Oikawa is not.
Oikawa is having a bad dream, and Kageyama knows it, because he can feel it.
Oikawa is asleep, curled just a little on his side, and the steady pulse of
muddled, half-formed emotions remind Kageyama of his own unfocused thoughts
just after waking up. It's odd to feel them from Oikawa – mostly confusion,
frustration, stress, and occasional sharp peaks of anger, before fading to long
stretches of quiet.
Kageyama watches Oikawa sigh softly, then roll onto his back, a knot of
unpleasant confusion softening to nothing.
"When's your next game?" Kageyama asks.
"Next month. But I won't be playing," Sugawara says. "I probably won't stay on
the team after this season, if I'm being honest."
"But – why?!"
"Mm," Sugawara says. "I like watching volleyball, but Karasuno is the only team
that I'm willing to sit on the bench for."
Kageyama is upset about this, but he doesn't know what to say. He knows,
really, that Sugawara's skills are quickly outmatched in games. He scores
points because he's smart, and he can spot mistakes, but once the other team
closes those gaps, they start to outpace him, and he has to got back to the
bench, until he can spot more mistakes. But Sugawara's guidance kept the team
glued together, made Karasuno strong in a way no one else could've done, not
even Sawamura or Ukai. It was as important to the team as any of it.
"You should be a coach."
"Maybe," Sugawara laughs lightly. "So."
His suddenly heavy tone has Kageyama looking over at Oikawa, double-checking
he's still asleep – and he is, mouth slack.
"How are you doing?" Sugawara asks.
Kageyama grunts.
"You gave us a pretty good scare," he says.
Kageyama frowns at that, remembering the ignored texts from Hinata. Getting
lost in the first place. Not listening to Oikawa when he said not to fight, and
then not fighting hard enough, not being strong enough to stop any of it, and
something gross and dark and sticky behind all of it that he doesn't fully
understand.
"Sorry."
"No! No, don't – let me rephrase," Sugawara says. "I'm glad we found out where
you were. This must have been..." Sugawara looks so sad when he softly touches
the hot flesh of the injury on Kageyama's cheek, lips pinched together. "Really
awful."
Kageyama flinches, more from Sugawara's words than his touch. "Yeah."
"To be honest, it's... ah. It scares me, seeing how much they hurt you,"
Sugawara says. "It makes me worry that you might be hurting more, in ways I
can't see."
Kageyama huffs, closing his eyes tight, wanting to run, wanting to escape. "It
shouldn't have happened," he finally says, repeating Iwaizumi's words, because
he liked them. They sound strong, like a warning to the universe to back off.
Sugawara nods sadly, combing his fingers through Kageyama's hair again.
Nice, happy, good – Kageyama blinks at the sudden, distracting whisper. Oikawa
just pushes deeper into the pillow in his sleep, doesn't really smile or
anything, but Kageyama feels it: Oikawa is having a very happy dream.
Kageyama watches, wondering if he's dreaming of Iwaizumi.
"Are you going to bond with Sawamura-san?"
"Wha – " Sugawara sputters at the sudden question, and Kageyama glances up,
surprised to see his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. He's never acted
shy about Sawamura before. "That – " he clears his throat. "You – you're
worried about – bonding with Oikawa?"
Kageyama nods shortly.
"Well," Sugawara says. "Have you ever been interested in omegas before?"
Kageyama shrugs.
"Interested in…" Sugawara's voice is very careful. "Anyone before?"
Kageyama shrugs.
~
"We don't need that, right?? We're not studying English!"
"It's not for studying," Yachi says, and Hinata grabs the gigantic English
dictionary from Yachi's shaking arms before she drops it. She points to her
bedroom doorway, and Hinata sets it down, where, to Kageyama's relief, it's
used as a doorstop. "But we have to keep the door open!"
"Right. Cause I'm an alpha?" Hinata asks, and looks proud about it, puffing up
his chest, hands on his hips.
"Yes! I mean.. sort of," Yachi says, and fiddles with her fingers like she
always does before saying something uncomfortable. "My mother thinks you two
are – uhm. You know."
Kageyama thinks she's about to say something like, goons or bad influences,
maybe, but he doesn't see how anyone could see Hinata as anything but a goofy,
loud dork. He's about to say so, when she finally finishes.
"Together."
"What?!"
"It's not that weird!!" she says, all worried and frazzled. "You're both
volleyball crazed – and – and Shouyou's an alpha! And Tobio-kun is an omega!!
It's not bad!!!"
She drops down into an apologizing fit, and Hinata laughs a little, comforting
her. Kageyama stands back, like he usually does during these episodes, until it
all settles again. He watches Hinata's hand on her back, the way he encourages
her up to her feet again.
Hinata is an alpha.
And Kageyama can easily boss him around, and Kageyama's never bored when he's
with Hinata, either, and he smells good – very good, like sheets hung out to
dry in the sun – and his mother always says that's one of the most important
things.
He narrows his eyes at Hinata, considering, but looks quickly away when Hinata
glances up, still smiling from his words to Yachi.
He's kind, too. He's very kind.
They don't say anything more about it, not during the rest of the studying
session or even during the long walk to the train station.
But a year later they're at camp, and Kageyama has woken up before anyone else.
He gets dressed in quiet, pulls on his sneakers and sits on the deck outside,
stretching, looking up at the stars, waiting for them to dim. It's still too
dark to see, and he's not familiar enough with these roads to jog down them
blind, not wanting to risk an ankle injury by stepping into a hole or tripping.
Hinata comes up to join him, and sits down with an exaggerated, goofy sort of
sigh. They sit in the comfortable silence, until Hinata sighs again, and he
looks up and sees Hinata watching him with an uncharacteristic frown.
"You're not like. The ugliest omega."
Kageyama stares back blandly, both hands wrapped around his left foot, slowly
switching to the right. He doesn't respond, because it's still early enough
that his thoughts haven't quite woken up yet, and he can tell what Hinata was
actually saying, but – honestly it's hard to pick a trait that Hinata isn't the
absolute lowest category that an alpha should be: he is the shortest, weakest,
dumbest alpha Kageyama knows.
When he finishes stretching, leaning back, Hinata shifts forward, kneeling in
the space left between his legs. He leans in for a kiss and Kageyama allows it.
He's expecting a chaste thing, something on the cheek, but Hinata has never
been a coward.
Kageyama licks his lips when they're done, and they stare at one another with a
careful, considering look.
Maybe, Kageyama decides. But the sun has started to rise, at least enough for a
jog down unfamiliar streets.
He stands, and feels Hinata watching as he jogs around the corner.
~
But maybe not. It was never something that occupied either of their minds
seriously.
Sugawara sighs, heavily. "Have you ever heard of a Rorschach test?"
"No."
"It's pictures, ink blots. A doctor shows them to a patient, and the patient
tries to find a picture in the image," Sugawara says. "The patient sees what
they want to see, and it helps the doctor understand what they're thinking
about."
"Oh," Kageyama says, confused about why this is being said to him.
"Sometimes – because you're so quiet, you're remind me of a Rorschach test," he
says. "People see what they want to see – if they want to fight you, then they
think your expression is mean. If they want to talk to you, then they see you
as shy."
Kageyama waits for him to finish, still confused, frowning harder.
"Right now, I'm nervous," Sugawara says. "So I'm worried that I'm starting to
see things that aren't there, too. It would be helpful if you shared more of
what you're feeling – I don't always know what you mean when you're quiet."
Kageyama grimaces hard, trying to come up with words. "I don't want to have a
bond," he says, miserably.
"With Oikawa?"
Kageyama struggles to organize his thoughts toward Oikawa at the moment. Fears
he might have had in the past haven't happened. Oikawa can be very mean, but so
far he's just been – pushy and curt. But he guesses that makes sense. They're
on the same team now. And that is what he feels: Oikawa, reluctant or not, has
allowed him onto his team, sincerely.
"Oikawa-san helped. He's still helping."
"That's good!" Sugawara says, eyebrows flying up in surprise. "Things have been
okay between you two, then? I was – worried about that, too."
Kageyama shrugs. When he scowls again because he can't think of a way to
elaborate, Sugawara laughs, and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Sometimes a shrug says enough," Sugawara says, then glances back up to Oikawa
and nods to himself. "A bond is a scary thing, and this is a bad situation, but
you're strong enough to get through it."
A bond is a scary thing, and Kageyama latches onto that – everyone talks about
it like they're good, and he wonders if that's why Sugawara acted so oddly
before.
"You don't want to bond, either?" he asks, remembering Sugawara's blush.
"Well – " Sugawara says, getting flustered again. "That's – it's a little –
different – "
"Beta bonds are physical."
They both look to the other bed, where Oikawa is awake, but barely. His face is
soft with sleep, and he's slowly sitting upright.
"Ah," Sugawara says. "Yeah. They're very different from alpha and omega bonds.
They're very – private."
Kageyama looks between the two of them, confused.
"Alphas and omegas are already wired to fuck each other," Oikawa says, yawning,
reaching up high and bending his back as he stretches. "'N a bond between those
dynamics compensates for the emotional connection. A beta bond gets them horny
enough to meet their partner's needs."
"Oikawa," Sugawara says, tense.
"I have two beta sisters," Oikawa says, like that explains anything, waving his
hand dismissively. "There's some sexual stuff in an alpha and omega bond, but
it's mostly mental, which is a good thing, considering – " he stops, and looks
at Kageyama. An awful prickling kind of emotion hitting in Kagemya's gut.
"Considering."
Guilt.
Kageyama is trying to make sense of that when Oikawa stretches again, hard,
popping his back, and the feeling vanishes like a light-switch flicking off,
like it was never there at all.
"Alright," Sugawara is saying, shifting his weight, and Kageyama sits up so
Sugawara can climb off the bed. "They said we should keep these visits as short
as possible. Any messages for Hinata? Tanaka?"
Kageyama shakes his head. He'll answer some of Hinata's texts, and he can't
think of anything to say to Tanaka either way.
"Your mother?"
Kageyama pauses, then shakes his head no again. He can message her himself,
too.
Sugawara closes his eyes, exhaling in relief. "Okay. I have classes tomorrow,
but I'll visit the day after that. Want me to bring anything?"
"A volleyball?"
"Oh my god," Oikawa says under his breath, rolling toward the wall while
Sugawara laughs again.
"Sure."
Oikawa seems to have woken up in the same rotten mood Kageyama had earlier,
Kageyama can feel it, licking along the edge of his mind.
He doesn't want to be alone with Oikawa.
It happens, though, Sugawara slips his shoes back on, pulls on his jacket,
waves goodbye and closes the door when he leaves.
In the quiet, Kageyama is nervous to even look toward Oikawa, afraid making eye
contact will make the irritation he feels at bay even worse.
"Get over here," Oikawa just mutters, without sitting up, and without looking
at Kageyama, and sounding kind of bored about it. "I didn't leave you alone
when my guest showed up."
Kageyama climbs off the spare bed, back onto theirs, against Oikawa's side.
Again, he's surprised at how immediately soothing the closeness is. He hadn't
even been aware of the steady stress against his mind – and they were only a
bed apart – but he presses his cheek against Oikawa's back, feeling him breathe
in and out, and the tension melts slowly away.
"Were you dreaming about Iwaizumi-san?"
Oikawa stiffens, then shifts, rolling to face Kageyama, no longer sleepy.
"What's this preoccupation with Iwa-chan?"
"What?"
"That's the third time you've asked about him," Oikawa says, smiling a mean
smile. "You know Iwa-chan isn't as stupid as Kindaichi, right?"
"What?"
Oikawa's mean expression flattens and he looks away, unimpressed. "Never mind,"
Oikawa says. "Yes, I had a dream about Iwa-chan. Why?"
"I felt it," Kageyama says, feeling stupid for bringing it up, now. "It felt
nice."
Oikawa looks stunned, then laughs shortly. "Mr. Refreshing is right. You make a
really good Rubin vase, Tobio-chan."
"What does that mean?" he asks. It's not usual for him to be confused by what
Oikawa is saying, but he's truly, completely lost.
"It's just easy to forget that you don't care about alphas," Oikawa says,
flicking at Kageyama's bangs. "Do you?"
Kageyama's had enough of talking, now.
He just shrugs.
~
Tobio doesn't have a nap buddy in preschool, and he likes to finish his lunch
quietly, without talking to his neighbors.
At recess, he likes to swing, but because those are usually crowded, he walks
across the empty soccer field. He likes to walk along the big square line on
the outside of it, looking down his feet, watching the white powder puff up
onto his shoes.
Sometimes, the teachers ask if he wants to play games with the other children
instead, so he he does, but he likes the soccer field better.
The other children leave him alone, except one day, Reiji, an alpha with lots
of freckles, runs across the field toward him.
"Hi," Reiji says. "Can I hold your hand?"
"Uh," Tobio says, but Reiji has already taken it, and smiles really big. Reiji
walks back toward the playground, still holding on, so that's where Tobio goes,
too.
Reiji holds Tobio's hand when it's lunch time, and after lunch, he takes Tobio
to the slide, even though there are swings open. Tobio's teacher is very happy
when she sees Reiji taking the spot beside Tobio during their nap.
"You've got your own a nap buddy, Tobio-chan!" she says, smiling.
Tobio tries to walk on the lines of the soccer field the next morning, but
Reiji finds him again, and holds his hand again.
This happens so many days in a row that the teachers make jokes about them
being naughty and kissing if they're left alone, but they don't do that. Reiji
just kisses his cheek, which isn't naughty, and he does it in class or on the
playground or during lunch, or anywhere he wants, no matter who's there.
Even his mom knows about Reiji, because the teachers tell her when she comes to
pick him up. "It looks like Tobio-chan just needed someone to get him out of
his shell," she says, happily. "He follows his little boyfriend everywhere,
they're inseparable. It's adorable."
"Well," his mother says, stiffly. "I'm glad he's making friends."
Tobio spends every day with Reiji until winter, when Reiji's father moves to
another city, so Reiji has to start going to another preschool. He gives Tobio
another kiss on the cheek before he goes, and says that they're married now.
"Okay," Tobio says.
The next day, Reiji is gone, so Tobio gets to walk along the soccer field again
during recess. It's quiet, and he's happy.
"I bet preschool is a little lonely without Reiji," his mother says kindly, on
the drive home.
Tobio shrugs.
"It's alright if you're sad," his mother says.
"I'm not sad."
"Really?"
"I like it better when I'm playing just by myself."
"Well. Why did you play with Reiji so often?"
Tobio shrugs.
"No reason?"
"There wasn't anything better to do."
His mother is quiet, then laughs, hard, leaning back to ruffle his hair. "Yes,
yes, exactly," she says. "That's exactly right. Alphas are only good when you
don't have anything better to do."
Tobio smiles back, though he's not sure what exactly made her so happy.
This is Tobio's understanding of romance with alphas. It's not something he's
curious about, because he already knows it's boring. He knows holding hands is
boring, he knows kisses are boring, he knows attention and words from alphas
are boring, and by the time he gets to junior high he's found volleyball, which
is way better than any of that.
In junjior high, volleyball isn't just gym class anymore, it's a club, a real
team, and his captain, Oikawa-san, reminds Tobio of some of the dolls his aunt
likes to buy him for his birthday, or the heroes in animes for young children.
He's tall, and his smile is very nice, and he's good at volleyball, at
everything, and he's omega, like Tobio.
"Miss!!!"
The volleyball, which Oikawa had been aiming toward the trashcan on the
opposite side of the gym, hits the wall and bounces away.
"One more, Tooru-kun," says the alpha who bet Oikawa couldn't serve a ball into
the trashcan. Oikawa has three chances to make it, and that was his second.
Oikawa doesn't seem nervous though, bouncing the ball calmly, then – Tobio
holds a volleyball tight against his chest, toes curling in his shoes – the
toss, the run – slam –
The ball lands so cleanly in the trashcan that it actually bounces out again
smoothly, and the whole gym claps for their captain, almost louder than his
gloating.
"Ha!" Oikawa shouts, spinning around to grin at the alpha.
He gloats for a long time, his smile is very happy. Tobio watches from the
benches, impressed. He'd like to be a part of the scene, somehow, but by now
knows it's safer to just watch.
"Annoying, isn't he?"
Tobio looks up in surprise and sees Iwaizumi sitting down on the riser in front
of him, tying his shoe.
"I think he's amazing," Tobio says, resting his chin on the ball.
Iwaizumi stiffens, and when he looks over his shoulder, there's a small smile
on his face. He ruffles Tobio's hair. "Guess that's what I meant."
Tobio stares.
When Iwaizumi runs out to the court to play, he throws a volleyball at Oikawa's
head, and tells him to stop showboating, because it's pissing him off, and he
has to learn to be a graceful winner. Tobio watches, a rush of strange
excitement in his stomach – Iwaizumi likes Oikawa.
Likes Oikawa, romance likes Oikawa – but it's not boring. It's like they're
friends.
Oikawa whines, rubbing at the back of his head like he's really hurt and upset
about, but he's not actually hurt, and he's not actually upset. They're both
happy, and they play together, and Tobio watches.
~
"Get up," Oikawa says, pushing Kageyama a little roughly. "I want to brush my
teeth."
They walk to the bathroom and Kageyama stands beside Oikawa at the sink,
watching him brush his teeth, and then wash his face. Oikawa gives himself a
long, long look in the mirror when he's done, takes a deep breath, then turns
to Kageyama with a smile.
"So," he says. "What have you been up to?"
Kageyama opens his mouth.
"Not volleyball," he says.
Kageyama's mouth snaps shut.
"There has to be other things you're interested in," he says. "Movies? You like
manga, right?"
"I like Dokaben."
Oikawa closes his eyes. "That's for grade school kids."
Kageyama doesn't respond – he did start reading it in grade school, but he
still likes the characters and likes reading about them.
"Iwaizumi still reads that stuff, too, I guess," Oikawa says, as though
reminding himself to be patient. "What are your favorite classes?"
"Math," Kageyama says.
Oikawa perks at that, seeming surprised. "Really?"
Kageyama nods. "Once I almost got put in a 4 class, but – " he almost stops,
sensing that Oikawa isn't going to appreciate the end of the sentence. "I
stayed in regular because I wanted more time for volleyba – "
Oikawa covers his mouth.
"If we're going to finish this bond," he says. "We're going to have to have
some pleasant conversations."
Kageyama nods.
"Do you think we can do that if we're talking about volleyball?"
Kageyama thinks yes –
"The answer is no, Tobio-cha – " he says. "Tobio. So, we have Dokaben and math.
I don't know anything about Dokaben and I'm good at math but not enough to bond
because you almost, once, were above mediocre at something outside of
volleyball. Anything else?"
It's like Kageyama's mind is working against him, now that Oikawa's said not
volleyball, it's all he can think about, even more than usual. He likes – parks
with open courts, he likes early morning jogs, the last time he went to the
mall was for a new pair of sneakers, and he knows a lot about sneakers, but
there's no way he's saying any of that because they're all actually about
volleyball and Oikawa will know that.
"What do you like?" he asks, instead.
"The beach," Oikawa says, easily. "Astronomy, dogs, museums, comedies,
historical fiction, Shibuya-kei, psychology, swimming – "
"You already said the beach!" Kageyama says, feeling more inadequate with each
thing Oikawa lists off.
"I don't go to the beach to swim," Oikawa says, as though Kageyama is
incredibly stupid. "I swim in a pool."
"What else – "
"What else do you do at a beach?" Oikawa asks, unimpressed. "Barbecues, beach
volleyball, Frisbee, drinking – "
He stops himself, looking at Kageyama's pinched up face.
"So you, what? You just – stay at home?" Oikawa asks. "Sitting in your room,
just looking at a volleyball?"
"No!"
"So?"
"So – I – like games," he says.
"Games? Video games?"
Kageyama nods. "Mostly – "
Oikawa raises an eyebrow, not encouraging as much as demanding Kageyama finish
that.
"Hinata plays them. Fighting games. I don't – play them alone but," he shrugs.
"I really like to beat him."
Kageyama thinks this is going to be unimpressive, again, but it actually makes
Oikawa pause, tilting his head to the side.
"You're competitive," he says, thoughtfully.
Kageyama is.
It's something omegas aren't supposed to be, but his mother had encouraged it,
and when he's competing with someone he feels everything inside him flare up,
excited and hot. He thinks if he didn't have that, he might be exactly what
Oikawa described: a boy that just sits in a room doing nothing. Remembering
what Sugawara says, about not being able to guess what Kageyama is thinking,
Kageyama wonders if he should – sort of attempts to think of a way to say all
that – but it quickly feels dumb and not worth sharing.
Maybe Oikawa understands it anyway, though, because he's grinning like he has
an idea.
A nurse comes in about three hours later, and looks over the swelling around
Kageyama's eye and says it's healing well. Oikawa asks for some paper and
pencils, and when they get it, he starts drawing a series of dots all across
it, in neat rows.
"Here," he says while he does it, handing the second pencil to Kageyama, and
his interest is immediately piqued, watching Oikawa work. "This is Dots and
Boxes."
"Like tic-tac-toe?"
"Sort of, but," Oikawa says. "No, not at all."
"Oh."
"Connect the dots," he says. "Only one line at a time. The goal is to close as
many boxes as you can."
Oikawa goes first, drawing a dark, confident line between two of the dots, then
sliding the in front of Kageyama.
Kageyama looks over it a moment, and connects two of the dots at random. Oikawa
goes, then it's back and forth, until Kageyama completes a box and writes his
initials inside.
"Well done!" Oikawa says, but doesn't take it when Kageyama tries to pass it
back. "You get to go again after you complete a box."
Kageyama looks over the remaining dots. Feeling confident, he quickly connects
two, and Oikawa happily yanks it back, and quickly starts connecting all of the
boxes –
"Hey!"
"After you connect a box you go again, remember Tobio-chan?" Oikawa says,
smiling. Kageyama glares down at the sheet – they'd made so many random lines,
all that's left are winning ones, and Oikawa quickly closes all the boxes, one
after another, whistling as he goes. "So that's Tobio-chan: one. Oikawa-san:
eight. I win. Again?"
Kageyama glares, nodding. He's determined to do better this time, but somehow
doesn't manage even one box before Oikawa sweeps the board again. "Zero to
nine. Tsk. Maybe this game is too advanced for Tobio-chan?"
Kageyama scowls, yanking the sheet off the pad and setting up the next board.
There's strategy, Kageyama starts to realize after their fourth game. Trying to
close all the boxes as quickly as he can seems to only set Oikawa up for easy
victory, and he starts hanging back, trying to lure Oikawa into being the one
to connect the first winning box.
"The player to make the last move typically wins," Oikawa says, nodding in
approval when he notices Kageyama's new strategy. "So you do have something
going on up there."
Kageyama isn't even annoyed by the taunt, grinning as he sees his opening,
sweeping the board. "Two to seven," Kageyama says, and writes his name across
the top, big, proud characters in victory.
Oikawa sneers, yanking the sheet from the pad hard enough to rip it, and starts
the next one.
Oikawa is a poor loser, but Kageyama is, too, and when it's just the two of
them there's no need to hide it or pretend otherwise. They are quickly furious,
and it actually makes the game more fun – they hurry from one board to the
next, ripping the sheets off in rages, crumpling losing ones and throwing them
across the room.
"You little shit," Oikawa laughs in what sounds like delighted fury when
Kageyama takes his first game completely, all nine boxes. Kageyama would like
to gloat, but it's the last time he wins at all for another four rounds, and
then they're out of paper.
"Did you really have to rip this one in half??" Oikawa asks, as they retrieve
the crumpled up balls of paper from around the room, smoothing them out as best
they can to reuse them on the back.
This game occupies their attention for hours, only half paying attention to
lunch and dinner when it's brought in, and when it's finally time to stop, to
go to bed, he feels a pleased, buzzing kind of energy, exhausted but in a very
nice sense. It's so like his own that it takes a moment to realize Oikawa's is
there with him, too.
~
They haven't bonded when they wake up on the second day.
Kageyama wasn't really expecting to be, but Oikawa is disappointed, and he
doesn't want to play Dots and Boxes again.
"Later," Oikawa says, vaguely, when Kageyama asks, staring forward at nothing,
like he does when he's thinking very, very hard.
Oikawa was trying to bond, Kageayam realizes. Obviously – obviously he was,
Kageyama thinks, he'd basically said as much. But Kageyama had gotten so swept
up in the game, he'd forgotten about bonding at all.
He frowns, and tries to be useful, thinking about ways to bond, too, but he
really doesn't know much about it.
"Don't we need to bite to bond?" Kageyama asks.
Oikawa nods.
"Should we just… "
Oikawa pauses, then lifts his eyebrows, considering. "It couldn't hurt."
Kageyama immediately knows he was wrong, though, as Oikawa scoots closer and
Kageyama tilts his head to the side. His sister told him that if he ever bonded
that he wouldn't have to think about it, it'd come naturally, and feel very
nice, but this feels awkward, and weird. He shivers, almost snickering when he
feels Oikawa's lips on his neck, then –
"Ow!" he yelps, yanking himself back, away from Oikawa.
"Seriously?" Oikawa says, rolling his eyes. "I thought you'd be tougher than
that. You wouldn't last a minute with Iwa-chan."
Kageyama glares, rubbing at his neck. Oikawa really went for it. "My turn," he
says.
"No – no," Oikawa says, sliding back on the bed, but Kageyama is determined,
and follows. "I think we've figured out won't – fuck! Ow! You little – monkey,
let go."
Oikawa tries to push him off, and Kageyama bites down a little harder, just to
prove a point, then releases him.
They glare at one another, holding their necks.
"So that didn't work," Oikawa says, glancing down at his hand as if to check
for blood. "Thanks for your thoroughness, Tobio-chan."
Oikawa gets quiet again after that, distracted as he tries to come up with a
solution. After the pain in his neck, Kageyama decides to leave it to him.
After lunch, Oikawa asks for Kageyama's phone, and after messing around on
there for a while, he suddenly asks, "What's your blood type?"
"AB."
"Of course it is," he sighs. "Mine's O."
Kageyama rolls his eyes. Of course.
According to most people, O is the best, blood type. People with O are supposed
to be realistic, outgoing and confident and social. The rest of the blood types
are known for an even amount of both good and bad traits, except for AB, which
is known as the worst, irresponsible and flaky. Kageyama once read an article
about scientists trying to test the truth to this superstition, but no one
would volunteer to work with the AB group, so the study was canceled.
"Iwaizumi is B, though... " Oikawa says, to himself. "What's your birthday?
Christmas, right?"
"December 22nd."
Oikawa nods, still looking at his phone. Kageyama is surprised that Oikawa
remembered at all – he thinks Oikawa's birthday is in summer, but doesn't want
to ask now, in case that is very wrong.
"Bad news," Oikawa says after a while. "It looks like we're doomed either way."
"What?"
"As a lively and flighty Cancer – that's me – you need to be careful with your
omega Sagittarius – that's you, Tobio-chan. Your omega Sagittarius is happy,
bubbly spirit, sensitive and freely communicative with their needs," Oikawa
reads. "There's no such thing as too much for your Sagittarius! The mushier,
the better."
Kageyama feels a little like he does in while being forced to study English:
confused about what's being said to him, and resentful that it's happening at
all. "What is that?"
"Astrology," Oikawa says, still reading. "Does that sound like you?"
"No."
Oikawa grunts in vague agreement. "I share a sign with my sister. We're nothing
alike."
"Then why are you looking it up? "
"The illusion of control is soothing," Oikawa says. Then, after a long pause.
"Oh, wait. You're a Capricorn."
By the time Oikawa's finished his research, it's late, and Kageyama has several
messages from Hinata waiting. He doesn't bother to read them all, just
scrolling down the last one.
Hinata:
i'm sending good vibes your way!!!!!!!!!
Me:
i don't want good vibes
The last message was from over and hour ago, but Hinata responds quickly.
Hinata:
(；￣Д￣)
Me:
i want a spiker that can hit a straight
Hinata:
AAAAAAAAHHHHHH
YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'LL PRACTICE WHILE UR GONE!!!!!!
ILL GET AN AWESOME STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!
BETTER THAN YOURS!!!!!!!
try not to cry when u see it
(〜￣▽￣)〜
Me:
from disappointment
Hinata:
from
J E A LO U S Y!!!!!!!!!
〜(￣▽￣〜)
"Stop," Oikawa says, pull the phone out of his hand before he can reply.
"What?"
"We need to focus on each other," he says, dropping the phone on the
nightstand.
"You were on it all day!"
"I wasn't chatting with anyone," he says. "That's why we're not supposed to be
talking to anyone else in the first place. You can flirt with Chibi-chan all
you like once we're bonded."
Kageyama rolls his eyes.
"Little heartbreaker Tobio-chan," Oikawa says. "You really have no idea, do
you?"
He knows Oikawa is saying that Hinata has a crush on him – this has been joked
about too many times by other people for it to rustle Kageyama's feathers much.
What has him sitting up straight, looking at Oikawa with apprehensive eyes, is
the tone.
It's probably the nicest voice Oikawa's ever used to talk to him, honestly
fond.
Kageyama stares, waiting for the insult.
"You're cute," Oikawa says, and looks Kageyama straight in the face, utterly
sincere. "You know?"
Kageyama's chest does something very strange. "Sh-shut up."
Kageyama craved Oikawa's approval and attention like a literal hunger in junior
high, and Oikawa had held it out of reach as much as possible. Kageyama got
used to being kept on the outskirts of Oikawa's orbit, the very best he could
hope for was to be tolerated. It's only a moment, but to have – Oikawa – Oikawa
– looking at him like this, with open – affection – his full, undivided
attention, even for a moment –
Oikawa smiles, eyes crinkling with it. It's not mean, at all, it's gentle and
relaxed, and when he touches Kageyama's hand, he feels goosebumps crawling up
his arm.
Kageyama tries to speak, probably shut up again, or stop it, or something
similar, but all that comes out is a strained miserable little choking noise.
"You look like you're about to overheat," Oikawa laughs, fondly. "You can't
seriously tell me no one's tried to hit on you before."
"Not – that – not, " Kageyama chokes out. "Not you!"
"What makes it different?" Oikawa asks. "That it's me?"
Oikawa is serious again, still touching his hand, leaning in closer, Kageyama
presses against the wall behind him, literally feeling the heat on his own
face.
"You don't like me."
"I like you."
Oikawa says it so fast, and so easily, without any conflict. Kageyama blinks,
and the spell is broken.
"This isn't going to get us to bond," he glares, still feeling the flustered
embarrassment and dizzy anticipation.
Oikawa realizes that the gig is up. He grins, and it's the overly cutesy one he
gives to Iwaizumi after being deliberately rude, shrugging. "I suppose it'll be
more effective if I don't give you a heart attack in the process."
Kageyama looks down at their hands, still touching, and yanks his away quickly,
scowling deeply.
"But now I think we know the right track," Oikawa says.
"What?"
"Your crush on me."
"I don't – "
"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, hand over his chest, looking smug about it."I can
literally feel it."
"Th- that – anyone – if you said – things – "
"I'm pretty sure if you said things to me, I wouldn't – "
"Tooru," Kageyama says, grabbing Oikawa's hand. Not the gentle, flirtatious
touch Oikawa used, it's a clumsy grip and he knows it, and he leans in far
closer to Oikawa had, so fast that Oikawa is startled and leans back. He looks
straight into Oikawa's eyes. "You're amazing."
It comes, a sudden, thick brush of emotion, warm and tingling and too surprised
for Oikawa to hide, pink warming his face as he stares in open shock.
"Whatever," Oikawa finally says after a second, yanking his hand free. "That's
– whatever."
He expects Oikawa to gloat a little maybe, about being right, that this is a
good way to try to bond, but he seems just as flustered as Kageyama. He lays
back on the bed and tosses Kageyama's phone back to him.
Kageyama pretends to scroll, but his heart still races in his chest when he
thinks about Oikawa's stare, the tone he used – and it's distracting. He gives
up trying to concentrate and just curls up on the bed, thinking about nothing
until he sleeps.
~
Oikawa is angry.
The force it, the intensity, jerks Kageyama from sleep like a rude shove.
He opens his eyes – it must be very late, because he can't hear anything out in
the halls at all, and it's dark enough that all he can see is the only thing
lit up in the dark hospital room: Oikawa's face, glaring down at the cellphone
screen.
Oikawa's handsome features are twisted up in rage, and because he's so perfect
looking already, it makes his features look like something inhuman, like a
mask.
Kageyama feels like he's stumbled somewhere he shouldn't be, something private,
not meant to be seen – like in stories where children get lost late at night
and end up where youkai live, and end up cursed because their curiosity gets
the better of them. He always told himself he'd be smarter than the characters
in the story as a child, but maybe not.
He closes his eyes, and eventually Oikawa finishes, turning off the phone and
setting it down to charge. He lays down, and once Kageyama is sure he's asleep,
he leans over Oikawa to see what he was up to.
It's a conversation, with Iwaizumi.
Me:
Iwa-chan is staying up awfully late for such a serious student
How are your classes?
Iwaizumi:
Fine.
It's not that late.
Iwaizumi:
I'm sorry.
Me:
Why
Iwaizumi:
for a lot of things
Me:
Say them
or they don't count~
( ˘ ɜ˘)
Iwaizumi:
i'm sorry i was too scared to bond with you
i'm sorry i was too scared to talk to you about it
i'm sorry i didn't go after you
i'm sorry i cant do anything about any of it.
i'm sorry i wasn't there
Me:
That wasn't as satisfying as I imagined it would be
Iwaizumi:
sorry
Me:
Okay. Good night.
It doesn't seem bad, really, more sad than anything, but Kageyama is still
reminded of curses when he plugs his phone back in and lays down, pretending
he'd never woken up at all.
~
By the third morning they're still not bonded, but Oikawa gets his conditioner,
and Kageyama gets his volleyball.
Sugawara sneaks it in with his messenger bag, telling Kageyama to be careful,
because the nurses would not approve, and it'll probably be taken away if he's
caught with it.
Sugawara decided to go shopping in Osaka, and brought his bags up to the room
with him. "There's such a difference in selection in a big city like this – I
found olive beef for 6,000 yen!" He takes the heavy, wrapped package out of the
bag, showing it off.
"That's enough for steaks," Oikawa says, as they both stare enviously.
"I was actually going to try to make some dumplings," Sugawara says, putting it
away.
"You're not going to broil it?" Oikawa asks, sounding offended.
"I know, it's a waste of marbled meat, but I can experiment more with
flavor..."
Apparently Oikawa is interested in cooking, too. The two of them spend the rest
of Sugawara's visit talking about different ways to prepare beef, while
Kageyama lays on his back and tosses the ball in the air, enjoying the company,
the closeness, without any pressure to speak himself.
"The energy in here seems way better than it did before," Sugawara tells
Kageyama as he's getting ready to leave, smiling. "It's a relief. Oh – I almost
forgot!"
Sugawara pulls out a pamphlet from his bag. It has the two omega symbols at the
top, overlapping each other, and for a moment Kageyama is horrified, not sure
what it could be – he's only seen symbols like that on porn.
"Would you relax?" Sugawara laughs. "You seemed really unsure about bonds,
before. This is specifically about traumatic bonds that omegas form, I thought
it could help."
Kageyama nods, taking it, but when he opens it he sees charts and arrows, lots
and lots of tiny, complicated looking paragraphs and feels overwhelmed.
"Thanks," he says anyway, nodding. Sugawara smiles, waves goodbye to both of
them, and they both stare after longingly.
"What are they serving for lunch today?" Oikawa asks, almost wistfully.
"Curry rice," Kageyama says, setting the pamphlet aside to start bouncing the
volleyball again. "Miso soup, fish."
Oikawa sighs. "What's your favorite food?"
"Beef," Kageyama says, immediately.
Oikawa snorts.
They spend the next few hours sitting on separate beds, hitting sharp,
underhanded receives to each other, bounced against the wall between them.
"You seem more relaxed about the bond thing," Oikawa says.
Kageyama frowns, snapping the ball sharply when he gets it.
"No?" Oikawa asks.
"Like you said," Kageyama says. "It has to happen."
They continue to serve the ball in silence, and Kageyama thinks about the
advice Sugawara gave him, about speaking more. Finally, he takes a sharp
breath.
"My parents were – bonded," he says.
Oikawa is obviously surprised, but doesn't interrupt.
"They severed it. My father never recovered."
"Right," Oikawa says, his voice is only nice, but Kageyama feels impatience
creeping against him. Oikawa wants to say something – is waiting for him to
finish so he can go, and Kageyama quickly loses his nerve.
"He lost his job and everything, and then he killed himself," Kageyama rushes
out.
Oikawa blinks, catching the ball, the impatience Kageyama felt pressing against
him suddenly cutting out, just that quick.
"How do you do that?" Kageyama asks.
"What?" Oikawa asks, looking disoriented. "What about – your dad? How old were
you?"
"Six," Kageyama says. "How do you – stop your emotions like that?"
Oikawa raises and eyebrow. "I guess I don't know," he says, and tosses against
the wall. Kageyama receives, tossing it back.
Kageyama waits for Oikawa to say whatever he'd been impatient for before, but
maybe he forgot what it was. He seems distracted, tossing the ball lightly,
giving an open palmed serve, but his aim is off, and it hits the bed post, then
slams into Kageyama's face.
"Oh my god," he jumps to his feet, but Kageyama only hears it, as his head
flies backward, vision blinded by the sudden flash of bright white pain
"Everything alright in there?" a nurse asks, poking her head in the door, and
Kageyama forgets the injury, quickly hiding the ball under the blankets and
pillow behind him.
"Nothing!" he shouts, awkwardly.
"Oh – goodness," the nurse hurries in, looking at Kageyama's face, lifting his
chin for a better view, and he feels something warm slide down his face and can
only assume it's reopened wounds in his face. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Kageyama says again.
"It's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed," Oikawa laughs, a little forced.
"Tobio-chan fell as he was getting into bed!"
"I see," the nurse says.
She leaves, then comes back with supplies, and at the end of it, Kageyama has a
proper eyepatch.
Hinata is delighted.
Me:
0000000000934588.jpeg
Hinata:
WHAAAAT
That's so cool!
but
you still have ur eye right???
Me:
why wouldn't i
Hinata:
real pirates didnt have eyeballs anymore when they had eye patches
dumbass
Me:
pirates arent real dumbass
Hinata:
dumbass yes they are!!!
Me:
no theyre not
they're fake
"Were pirates real?" Kageyama asks instead of continuing the fight he like he
usually would, because he figures Oikawa will be able to settle it.
"Not like," Oikawa says. "How they look in movies, but yeah. They were real."
Kageyama looks back toward his phone, slowly.
Hinata:
well how was I supposed to know!!!!!
Me:
maybe try not to be a dumbass
He sweats as he types it, though, and ends the conversation as quickly as
possible, dropping his phone on the bedside table in favor of the volleyball.
~
"Who's this?"
Kageyama leans over to look at the photo Oikawa's pulled up on Kageyama's
phone.
"Atsuko. My sister. She plays volleyball, too."
"Alpha?"
Kageyama nods.
"Two alphas?" Oikawa asks, like this is something awful, but Kageyama just
shrugs. He's seen people joke about how alphas can't live together, but it's
never been especially bad in his family. Hinata and his younger sister are both
alphas, so are Tanaka and his older sister, and none of them have any problems.
Sometimes his sister and mother fight, but he thinks that's the case in every
family.
"You take a lot of pictures of cats," Oikawa notes. "What's this?"
Kageyama feels his face heating a little in embarrassment. It was taken during
the summer break between classes, all the first years in Karasuno decided to
see a movie. Hinata had been looking forward to it for a while, and decided to
dress up, like super fans in America do for big premieres. It had embarrassed
Tsukishima so badly that he refused to stand in line next to them.
"We're seeing a movie."
"Okay, but why is Chibi-chan dressed up like that? Did someone trick him, or…"
Oikawa wrinkles his nose in confusion, looking back down at the phone. "Was
he.. confused… ?"
"He was just excited."
Oikawa's eyebrow raises very slowly. "He was just excited."
Kageyama nods.
"… So he dressed up." At first he thinks Oikawa is about to cry, because his
voice shook a little bit, but then he sees how Oikawa is biting on his lips,
fighting a smile.
"Yeah."
The first laugh is wheezy little huff of air, Oikawa is still trying to fight
it, ducking his head, hiding his face behind his hand. But once it's out, it's
out, growing as he continues to laugh, bracing himself against the bed as he
continues.
He's not sure if it's feeling Oikawa's amusement so clearly or the contagious
laughter itself, but Kageyama has to stop bouncing the ball, setting it on the
bed to calm his body, his shoulders bouncing with sudden laughter.
"We – we went out to eat like that," Kageyama says, voice wobbling.
Oikawa has to pick up his pillow, shoving it against his face to shout into it.
When he pulls the pillow away, he sees that Oikawa's eyes have started to water
a little, but he seems a little more composed, until he looks down at the phone
again, and he starts laughing again – Kageyama feels it as clear as if it was
his own, it sets him off again, snorting loudly as he tries to stop it, and
Oikawa flops onto his back, and rolls to the side.
"Oh my god," Oikawa gasps, arms spread, chest visibly shaking with the laugh.
"Okay," he says, calming. "Okay."
Kageyama has a sudden memory of the hostess's expression when she saw Hinata,
and how it was almost exactly the same as Oikawa's baffled confusion – and
Oikawa actually laughs first, rolling back upright, looking at the picture
again.
"Thhh – " Kageyama gasps for air. "The hostess pretended like – he wasn't
wearing it. Didn't say anything."
"Oh my godd."
Kageyama is panting, wiping at his eyes, calming down, when he feels it in a
wave, Oikawa's amusement peaking again, and they both bust up laughing again,
Kageyama slapping at the mattress, head dropping forward.
"Holy shit. I'm gonna die. Holy shit."
"One of us – should've – left the room," Kageyama gasps, breathless. He
suddenly remembers Oikawa's expression when he looked down at the picture
again, and giggles weakly, it hurts to do anything more than that.
Eventually the laughter dies off to a few shaking gasps for air, and they're
left staring at one another again. Like the competitive rage earlier, it is odd
to have his exact emotion mirrored back at him from Oikawa.
Oikawa is thinking the same thing, apparently, and he flops onto his back in
frustration.
"What is taking so long?!" he asks the ceiling, spreading his arms. "This
shouldn't be so hard! You – told me about your dead dad! You're – not a
murderer! You're clean! You smell good! So what's the problem!?"
Kageyama perks a little at that.
"What??"
"You said you hated my scent at Kitagawa Daiichi," Kageyama says.
Oikawa stares at him, as though processing that very, very slowly.
"But – you don't."
"I guess," Oikawa says, reluctantly, face heating up. "I do not."
Kageyama feels the grin on his face, before a pillow is slammed into it.
"Shit," Kageyama hisses, covering his still tender injury.
"Ah – sorry, really, I forgot – sorry. Your face just looked so stupid," Oikawa
frets, dropping the pillow. Kageyama glares, grabbing it, and smacking Oikawa
back. "That's not fair! I can't hit you back!"
Kageyama hits him with the pillow just one more time, then drops it.
He knows it's something bad, but – Oikawa doesn't hate his scent. It's one of
the most important things for a bond, so it could happen, he could bond with
Oikawa, and part of him was really, truly happy about realizing this.
He's laying out on his stomach, and feels Oikawa laying down next to him.
Oikawa stares at Kageyama's face with a thoughtful frown, and there's been so
much constant contact between them that it doesn't even feel particularly odd
when Oikawa runs his fingers across Kageyama's forehead, a thumb running down
his eyebrow. Over the apple of his cheek, then down, to his chin. His hand
pauses on Kageyama's neck.
Finally, he pokes Kageyama's forehead, almost accusingly.
"Why isn't it working?"
Kageyama doesn't have an answer.
~
Guilt, for Kageyama, is a very specific emotion, tied to a very specific time.
It's seeing the damage he caused to his teammates at Kitagawa Daiichi without
realizing it. Otherwise, it's not something that haunts him very often, and
it's a very uncomfortable feeling. His dreams are shadows of that time, those
people, that place, until they grow so unpleasant he finally wakes up.
Oikawa's anger was rough and aggressive. Oikawa's guilt is just as strong, but
it – clings. It wraps around him and squeezes.
Kageyama sniffs a little, wiping at his face, trying to wake up, looking over
to see Oikawa staring blankly at the ceiling.
It's a long time before either of them say anything.
"I was under the assumption," is the first thing Oikawa says, very slowly.
"That it could've been anyone on the train – any omega. And I would've bonded
with them."
Kageyama nods. He'd assumed the same.
"But all these bonds," Oikawa says, shaking the pamphlet in his hand. "All
happened when omegas were trapped weeks or months together."
This is significant to Oikawa, obviously, but Kageyama doesn't follow. "So?"
"We were stuck together less than an hour. There was something there already,"
Oikawa says. "To begin with. There had to've been."
Oikawa couldn't sound more sure of himself, it's almost enough for Kageyama to
go along with, but he doesn't like where this is going.
He knows what Oikawa is going to say, that Kageyama had a crush on Oikawa, that
he still admired Oikawa, still worshiped Oikawa –
"It was me," Oikawa says. "I instigated the bond, on the train."
Kageyama stares, shocked.
"Because. I'm a selfish piece of shit, honestly," he laughs. "I just wanted
someone to lean on, and I knew you could take it." Oikawa breathes in and out.
"Not many people – " he stops, smiling angrily again, licking his lips. "Not
many people know how just how shitty I am."
Kageyama watches.
"I hold back a lot, and I do it a lot," he says. "Even with Iwaizumi."
"You… trusted me?"
Oikawa looks over, and Kageyama's surprised to see his eyes are a little
glassy. "I guess I did," he says. "Do. You've seen – all of it, I think. The
worst. So when I needed – someone I could show my worst to – "
He feels Oikawa's anger, but Oikawa's eyes are growing wet.
"I thought I could stop them," he says, through tightly grit teeth, covering
his eyes. "I really fucking thought I could stop it."
"You told me not to fight," Kageyama says, confused.
"Tobio," he laughs brokenly. "There are other ways to fight, and I thought I
was – doing it, I thought – and – god." he laughs again. "I'm doing the same
thing now! I've been trying to keep you away this whole time, as if we could
actually bond like that."
Kageyama is confused, because it had seemed like Oikawa was trying to get
especially close, if anything.
"I was trying to control it," Oikawa calmly explains, clearing his throat,
apparently understanding the source of Kageyama's confusion. "Get you close
enough to bond, on my own terms, because, of course, I thought I could control
it. But. I can't – control anything." He laughs again, dry and broken sounding.
"You can't trick me into bonding with you," Kageyama says.
Oikawa lifts his hand into the air, then drops it. "Apparently not," he laughs
again.
"But. I think it would help if you trust me," he says. "Like you did before."
"… Alright," Oikawa nods, easily, but it's sort of mocking, like Kageyama made
it sound too easy. "Alright. So – I thought I could stop them, somehow, but I
was too fucking weak, I wasn't smart enough, it's humiliating. And I fucking –
used – you. Just – and we're both fucked now, I fucked everything – everything
is – ruined now, everything – Iwaizumi – " He stops, jaw clenching hard, tears
leaking down the sides of his face. "Saw. And I – I fucking – I couldn't stop
it, I couldn't – "
On the train, it had been a pull. Kageyama had practically felt it rope around
his waist, a clear and distinct feeling, cutting through the horror around him,
a clear line to safety. He'd followed, because it was welcoming, and safe, and
he was terrified.
This time, it's a call for help, Oikawa's horrified, muffled screams, anger and
embarrassment and pain and guilt, grabbing toward Kageyama desperately, and he
could step clear, but – no, he couldn't, he couldn't do that.
He reaches to meet Oikawa's shaking, broken need. It's a lot, it takes the
breath from Kageyama's chest, the intensity of it, like stepping out into a
hurricane, but Oikawa was right. Kageyama can take it.
They're curled up together in a way that has already becoming familiar, but
with Oikawa's emotions sweeping over him like this feels like – more.
He bites first.
It's instinctive, feels like the right thing to do, that'll help the pained
creature he's trying to soothe, and when he feels Oikawa's bite against his own
neck a thick, comforting hum settles over his mind, spreading to Oikawa, and
everything grows peaceful and calm.
~~~~~~~~
Oikawa and Kageyama are finally being released from the hospital today.
Iwaizumi waits in the lobby, feeling surprisingly calm about it. Some people –
most people, Iwaizumi thinks – wouldn't want a big scene, but this is Oikawa,
and he'd asked for it specifically. All of Aoba Johsai and some teammates from
Tsukuba are showing up to celebrate his recovery, and that's all anyone is
going to refer to it as.
Iwaizumi would've preferred to meet him alone, but he wonders if that's
something Oikawa is deliberately trying to avoid.
"Iwaizumi-san."
Iwaizumi waves at the newcomer – Kyotani, both hands in his pockets, expression
particularly dark and uncomfortable. Iwaizumi nods to greet him then –
Stops.
The smell makes it immediately, horrifically obvious. Iwaizumi doesn't ask for
permission, actually growling low in his throat as he storms toward Kyotani,
who freezes on instinct, growing even stiffer when Iwaizumi reaches him, grabs
the high collar from his jacket, and flips it away from his throat.
A bond mark.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Iwaizumi says, stepping away, but then immediately
circling back, pulling the collar away again for a second look at Kyotani's
neck, as if hoping he'd imagined it the first time.
There it is again.
A bond mark, from an alpha. Iwaizumi walks past him, out of the room, and of
course it doesn't take long to track Yahaba down. No alpha would stray far from
their freshly mated omega.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Iwaizumi demands, shoving Yahaba toward the
wall in a snarl.
Yahaba is only a few centimeters taller than Iwaizumi, something they'd have to
be standing side by side to even notice. Iwaizumi has at least twenty pounds on
him, though, and he's never so much as stepped up against Iwaizumi, not in two
years of training.
Instincts, though, are a powerful thing, and Iwaizumi only touched Kyotani but
Yahaba can clearly smell it, and clearly knows what Iwaizumi is doing – it all
translates in a very primal way to a challenge for Yahaba's omega, and his eyes
dilate, face twisting to something dark, as he shoves Iwaizumi back as hard as
he can, snarling.
It's not just Kyotani's bond mark. It's his fight with Oikawa, it's the alphas
that hurt him, it's Oikawa being kept away from him for a week, it's knowing,
knowing it's entirely his fault. It's everything.
He loses it, shoving back – "What the fuck," Iwaizumi shouts, both fists in
Yabaha's shirt. "Were you thinking?! After – after this??" he waves his arm at
the hospital hall around them. "How stupid are you?!"
"This is why!" Yahaba shouts, sounding frustrated, straining to pull away. "You
didn't mark Oikawa-san when you could! I didn't want – that!!"
Part of him isn't really listening, the alpha in him only sees a member of his
pack, unruly, challenging him – put him down, make him submit, prove his
strength –
A hand over Iwaizumi's, and he snaps his eyes over, glaring, ready to fight
this intruder, until he sees its Kyotani. Omega. Not a threat.
"Yoo-hoo! Iwa-chan!"
Omega - no, not just omega. Oikawa.
Everything else is forgotten completely, he releases Yahaba with a rough shove,
turning toward Oikawa's voice.
Oikawa's chin his tilted back, showing off his mark.
Iwaizumi heart races at the sight, thoughts dimming to a peaceful, calm nothing
as he zeroes in – Oikawa. Oikawa's neck.
"Well? What do you think?" Oikawa's voice keeps talking as he gets closer, a
distant, pleasant buzz. Iwaizumi likes the sound of it, but doesn't try to make
sense of it. He likes Oikawa's smell, he likes looking at Oikawa and he – would
very much like – to taste him –
And then he is.
His teeth sinks into the soft skin of Oikawa's neck.
Oikawa's body stiffens in surprise, and Iwaizumi bites harder, getting a better
grip. Oikawa, Oikawa, they'd been separated for so – long – the warmth of his
body, solid and familiar in his arms – it couldn't possibly get any better,
until it is, when he feels Oikawa biting back.
***** Chapter Seven *****
Chapter Summary
     Just. A heads up, there's about 4k before this matches up with the
     cliff hanger of the last chapter. We get there though. Some might
     ask, why did I end at that cliff hanger if I still had so much ground
     to cover between here and there? And to them I say, http://imgur.com/
     X6WjzAE
     Starts out with Oikawa's POV, switches to Kageyama's.
The longest Oikawa's ever gone without sleep is three days.
It happens, sometimes, when he's fixated on something – good or bad – and his
brain just won't slow down. He'll try, he'll stare up at his bedroom ceiling
for hours before finally giving up, rolling out of bed and digging his fingers
into whatever's keeping him awake.
Of the four days in this hospital room, he thinks he's managed about seven
hours of sleep all together, and he's fairly sure Kageyama is the only reason
he even got those. Kageyama's presence in his mind is impossible to ignore, and
while asleep he's like an anchor, sinking deep and steady into the dark, quiet
bliss of unconsciousness, forcing Oikawa's busy mind to actively fight against
the pull in order to stay awake.
Oikawa doesn't have the energy to fight right now, but Kageyama's not quite
sleeping. He's pressing up against Oikawa's chin.
Nuzzling.
"You're punch drunk," he tells Kageyama, accusingly.
Kageyama slowly blinks dark eyes up at him, pupils fat and unfocused. Obviously
not processing it.
Oikawa's heard of this happening after bonding, sometimes. If a bond was
especially intense, or, more likely in this case, the omega bonding is
particularly young – sixteen year olds really have no business being bonded.
And yet.
Oikawa drops his head against the pillow, eyes tracing the now familiar
patterns of the hospital ceiling as Kageyama pushes even closer against him.
This is not Oikawa's story.
Oikawa's story is nationals, college, classes, scouting, games, Iwaizumi. It
hasn't all gone according to plan, but this?
He made peace with it, in a sense, deciding to view himself as some kind of
benevolent, long-suffering martyr who made a sacrifice for someone weaker.
Needier. Realizing that he was ultimately the weak and needy one makes his lip
curl. He's been trying to swallow it down since he realized, but it's stuck in
his throat like an awful, prickly knot.
Last night it felt like he was literally burning alive from his anger, his
humiliation and pain. Fulfilling the bond with Kageyama - Oikawa swallows,
heart picking up a bit at the memory. Kageyama's presence reaching out to his -
was soothing. It was amazing. It was all-encompassing. It was everything
everyone's ever said about it. Not only did Kageyama's uniquely blunt,
straightfoward presence remove the pain, but replaced it with a profound sense
of - peace. Satisfaction. Oikawa is always chasing something, always trying to
go higher, get more, and for a moment, it felt like he'd actually grabbed it,
and it was safe to relax.
Of course, he doesn't know Kageyama's story. He's fairly sure Kageyama doesn't
know it either, outside of volleyball, but – maybe it was Hinata. Maybe it was
Baldie. Maybe it was some random student in math class, or a stranger at the
park, maybe it was no one.
Whatever it was, Kageyama's new story, as written by Oikawa, is pressing his
face against Oikawa's neck while drugged up on endorphins from the bond he
never wanted.
It feels wrong to indulge, wrong to acknowledge it, wrong to enjoy it, wrong to
look down and see the simple, sweet happiness on Kageyama's face –
Because, right now, in the afterglow of the bond, Kageyama is happy. He is
very, very happy, the way Oikawa felt last night, and Oikawa should not be
proud of that. Oikawa's never thought of Kageyama as a liar, but the sheer
intensity of his sincerity is overwhelming, and feeling the full scope of
Kageyama's emotions is like getting hit upside the head with a bat.
Tooru. You're amazing.
Oikawa pinches his mouth shut, heart picking up again as he remembers
Kageyama's expression when he said before, squeezing Oikawa's hand tight enough
to hurt. The look on his face alone would've been enough to tell he meant what
he was saying, but feeling the full, monstrous scope of it –
And having Kageyama against him like this, cheeks pink with his happiness, soft
and welcoming, tempting in a way Kageyama Tobio has no right to be – Oikawa
grits his teeth –
No one would know. Not even Kageyama would remember.
Quickly, as though afraid of losing his nerve, Oikawa returns the embrace,
closing his eyes as he breathes in the sweet scent from the top of Kageyama's
head, holding him tight, tight enough that his arms shake briefly, probably too
tight to be comfortable, but if anything this only makes Kageyama happier,
returning the embrace.
They spend the morning curled together in this contented knot, and Oikawa
manages maybe another hour of sleep.
~
"Thank goodness," is the first thing his mother says when she walks into the
room. "You two were starting to worry the doctors."
"Eh?" Oikawa says. "They said five days! It's only been four. And thank you,
mother."
He reaches out for the bag she's carrying, full of clothes from Oikawa's old
bedroom, for his hopefully imminent discharge from the hospital.
"They said they want to do some more observation," his mother says. "And a
bonding consult, but they're hoping you'll still get out today. Aaand – "
Oikawa looks up – inhaling in happy surprise. "Mom!"
"I just got it back from the police this morning," she says, handing over
Oikawa's phone, smiling. "They've already been able to get footage from the
security cameras at the station – "
"How's dad?" Oikawa interrupts, easily slipping a smile onto his face.
"… Your father," his mother says slowly, allowing the topic change. "Is happy
you'll be able to leave the hospital soon. Though he's still – well. You know."
Oikawa is feeling merciless, so he raises an eyebrow in question, as though he
doesn't know.
"He's ready for this year to be over," his mother says, diplomatically.
Oikawa watches her gaze shift to Kageyama, her expression carefully neutral.
The omega that replaced Iwaizumi, he knows she's thinking. The omega they have
to put up with for the next year. Because Oikawa wants to show off, and because
he really can be awful, getting a bit of vindictive enjoyment out of his
mother's annoyance, and he rests his free hand against Kageyama's neck, running
his thumb along the sharp line of Kageyama's jaw, blatantly affectionate.
Kageyama hums a little, smiling as he nuzzles closer to Oikawa, and he freezes,
not expecting that reaction. He immediately regrets it, at least in front of
his mother, because he has an urge to do it again.
"So," his mother says, visibly forcing herself into a positive mindset,
clasping her hands together in her lap, smiling again. "Let's see it."
Oikawa tilts his head to the side, bringing Kageyama's mark into view.
"Oh," she says, breath catching. "It's gorgeous, Tooru."
"Annoying, right?" he laughs. He hasn't been able to stop messing with it,
staring at it through the camera's phone, rubbing, poking – right now the skin
is still tender, like a bruise, but it should heal soon.
There are magazine articles, bonding experts and products that claim there are
ways to perfect a bond mark – practicing bites on plums, practicing mouth
shapes while slurping in ramen, and so on, but Oikawa knows now it's all
garbage. There's no way Kageyama was ever reading advice columns on the
aesthetics of bonding, and he still left a perfect little mark Oikawa's only
seen in movies.
"Omega marks are so much more – tasteful than alpha ones," Oikawa's mother says
with a frown, fingers on her own mark. It's biggish, pale, a sort of wobbly
blob. She usually touches it up before leaving the house, darkening it and
smoothing out the edges, tsking to herself as she does. "And how did yours turn
out?" she asks, peering to look at Kageyama's neck, but it's hidden against
Oikawa's shirt. "Oh. Is he asleep?"
"No, just out of it," Oikawa says, and tries flicking Kageyama's ear to get his
attention, but all he does is look up at Oikawa and frown sadly, like he's not
sure what he did to deserve that. "Move over," he says. Kageyama clearly
doesn't follow the words, but understands Oikawa's hands, encouraging him onto
his other side.
"Oh!" Oikawa's mother says, and the impressed tone is obviously forced. "It's
nice."
"Meh," Oikawa says, waving away her platitude. It's fine. If Kageyama hadn't
left a masterpiece on his own neck, he'd probably be pretty proud of the deep
red oval on Kageyama's, but in comparison it's just. Fine. Normal.
His mother can't stay long, again, and is actually saying her goodbyes at the
door when a doctor comes in, and the two women bump into each other.
"Excuse me," his mother says, stepping aside for the omega doctor, who smiles
and bows in thanks.
She's Kageyama's doctor and after taking stock of the situation, asks Oikawa to
hoist Kageyama's unresisting body upright so she can get a look at his eye.
"His scans from intake came back clean, but you can never be too cautious,"
she's saying, as Oikawa holds Kageyama up against his chest, and she presses
her thumbs along the edges of his wound with slow, firm pressure. "Hm. Was he
hit again?"
"Ah," Oikawa laughs awkwardly, vividly remembering each time Kageyama's head
was knocked backward. He gives a weak shrug.
"The swelling's gone down a bit, at least…" She takes off her gloves and
considers the both of them. "I think I'll schedule one more look, just to be
safe."
After Kageyama's taken out of the room for his second exam, Oikawa is abruptly
alone – but not.
The bond is a steady thing now, no longer waxing and waning with Kageyama's
presence, always there, and he can feel Kageyama's sleepy contentment as
clearly as he could when Kageyama was lying on top of him like a cat.
It's actually a very comforting thing in this quiet room, as he unlocks his
phone – and nearly drops it when he sees he has over three hundred unread
messages.
It's a daunting number of texts even for Oikawa, the only thing that's ever
come close is ninty-eight, on his sixteenth birthday. The surprise turns to
confusion when he sees fifty-three of them are from an unknown number.
"What the… " he mutters, and ignores those for now, sending quick thank you!s
to a few messages from worried acquaintances, and short updates on his status
to closer friends – he pauses at Iwa-chan's name.
He can see, in the preview, that the last message sent is from him. An image.
Oikawa deletes the text chain, sets his phone aside, and takes a shower.
~
When Oikawa opens the door to the washroom to let the steam out, he sees
Kageyama has returned and is sitting up in bed like a real boy, one knee pulled
up to his chest, on his phone.
It's not an especially unusual scene, but something about it makes Oikawa
suddenly nervous. "Uh."
Kageyama glances up, fully awake. He's still in a good mood, still riding the
edges of the bond, but his severe, haughty impassive expression gives none of
it away.
"How's your eye?"
"Fine," Kageyama says.
Oikawa nods and heads back to the washroom to finish getting dressed. When he
comes back out, he knows what he's going to say, he went over it in the shower
several times, but he still finds himself clearing his throat a little
awkwardly.
"Thanks."
Kageyama frowns, tilting his head in confusion.
"For the bond," Oikawa says. He's ready to elaborate further, but Kageyama's
unpleasant expression and rising embarrassment makes it clear he is not
interested.
"Yeah," Kageyama says, diverting his glare.
Oikawa stares, not expecting that. He's surprised by the hurt, and quickly
shifts to anger instead. It's too late for Kageyama to shy away now, and Oikawa
is annoyed with at this pathetic attempt to do so.
"And I know I just cost you a year of your life. And a pretty – important year,
so – "
"Okay," Kageyama forces out. Oikawa could almost laugh at the intense scowl on
Kageyama's face. His emotion is something Oikawa's really never felt himself
before, a sort of squirming, impatient agony – stop, stop, stop.
"Fine, alright," Oikawa says, lifting his hands in surrender. "Just. I'm
sorry."
"Okay." Kageyama is frustrated – annoyed by all this, and it's like a shove to
Oikawa's chest when Kageyama stands, and walks into the washroom without
another word, shutting the door harshly on the entire conversation.
Oikawa rolls his eyes when he hears the shower switch on.
Fine.
Obviously, it's unpleasant! The whole thing. It's humiliating. Obviously,
Kageyama has decided to just avoid thinking about it entirely, to just ride out
the year with his head as deep in the sand as possible. Of course, that's the
smart thing. Oikawa can't stop himself from stewing, though, feeling rejected,
which is something he is really not used to, and from Kageyama of all people -
The door to the washroom is suddenly thrown open, and Kageyama stands there,
dripping wet.
"Oikawa-san," Kageyama says, just below a shout. "I didn't bond with you to be
thanked!"
Oikawa stares, gobsmacked. "… Alright."
"And the only apology I want is from Sarayashiki!"
"Okay."
Kageyama nods, and then shuts the washroom door again.
Oikawa blinks into the silence, his phone sits in his limp hand, entirely
forgotten.
What on earth? Oikawa is good at reading people, and he marvels at just how
completely off base he was, even with a clear view into Kageyama's mind. He is
– flustered, but mostly fascinated. It's like walking into his childhood home
and discovering an extra door he'd simply never noticed before, never bothered
to open, unknown, uncharted, exciting. What else is going on in there, in
Kageyama's mind?
"Huh," Oikawa says.
~
Iwa-chan:
There's a western-style bbq place a few blocks from the hospital
Tsurugyu
Me:
YES
THAT
THERE
Mattsun:
you don't want to do something quieter?
Makki-kun:
I'm up for whatever
haven't seen you guys since July
Me:
what's loud about it
Yes, good Makki!
d(⌒⌒)b
Mattsun:
texting you always makes me miss my sister
who is also a 14 year old girl
Me:
(눈‸눈)
Mattsun:
loud is inviting everyone in aoba johsai and half your team from tsukaba
Makki-kun:
oh
is kageyama coming?
Oikawa looks up at Kageyama, who is still damp from the shower and wearing the
too-small hospital scrubs.
"Here," Oikawa says, tossing over the bag of street clothes. "My mother brought
extra."
Kageyama blinks, catching the bag with his chest. There's a bit of childish
excitement when he opens it up and realizes what's inside, which surprises
Oikawa. Kageyama doesn't seem like the type that cared much about clothes.
"It's all old stuff I left at my parent's house," Oikawa says. "Keep 'em, if
you want."
Kageyama pulls out a long sleeve shirt – semi-transparent, requiring an
undershirt, and obviously for an omega, then looks at Oikawa in question.
"My sister went to Australia last summer," Oikawa says, immediately
understanding Kageyama's baffled expression. "Sent back a whole duffel full of
clothes."
At their height it's hard to even find alpha clothes that fit, let alone omega
styles. Extra large specialty stores typically cater to wider bodies, and
there's really not much selection for an omega over 180cm and svelte in Japan.
Kageyama nods, putting it back in the bag and picking the only other top, a t-
shirt with a cartoonish Grey alien on the chest, and a pair of shorts.
Oikawa licks his lips, unsure of why he's nervous about this. "First thing I'm
doing," he says. "Is getting some barbecue."
Kageyama is still putting on the shirt so Oikawa can't see his expression, but
his stomach audibly growls and Oikawa snickers.
"Iwa-chan found a western style place down the street," he says. Then, very
casually, "You coming?"
"What – right now?"
"I said first thing," Oikawa says.
"Uh," Kageyama opens his mouth, then closes it again, as though thinking very
hard, or listening very hard to something he can't quite make out –
Oikawa stiffens. Kageyama is feeling Oikawa's nerves about asking him along.
His face heats. "It's a yes or no question!"
"I'll – have to ask my mother." Kageyama says, then his scowl deepens. "But I
probably won't be discharged tonight."
"Why? You said your eye was fine."
"There was an emergency at my mother's job," Kageyama says, balling up the
scrubs and tossing them toward the hamper in the washroom. "She had to travel.
The doctors said she doesn't want me to leave until she gets back."
"Oh," Oikawa says, not sure how he feels about that.
"But maybe," Kageyama shrugs.
The call to his mother does not sound promising, though. Oikawa does his best
to pretend like he can't hear it, or feel the steady frustration on Kageyama's
end.
A lot of short grunts from Kageyama – Yes. … Yes. … No. … A lot. … Kunimi and
Kindaichi...
Oikawa's done a good job tuning out, when, after a long period of silence,
Kageyama says, "I can walk home by myself." He sounds a bit annoyed, and the
frustration in him is starting to crack, something raw leaking through.
It was obviously the wrong thing to say, and Oikawa can hear the cadence of a
testy alpha, speaking at length on the other line.
Kageyama says nothing, arm wrapped around his knees at his chest, the curve of
his back particularly frail. He looks and sounds very young, and very sad, when
he says, "I want to go home."
Like everything Kageyama feels, the desperation is intense.
He's on the phone for another minute or so without saying more than a few
grunts, then hangs up.
Oikawa waits, but Kageyama doesn't say anything.
"So?"
Kageyama glances over out the corner of his eye. "I can go."
It's not the answer Oikawa expected, not from the general misery floating
around him.
They're sitting side by side, it's only a slight shift of his weight that gets
Oikawa close enough to touch, close enough for Kageyama to lean against him, if
he wanted, and settle with his head against Oikawa's shoulder, which he slowly
does, while Oikawa chips away at the mountain of messages on his phone.
Finally, the only ones left are from the mystery number, and it takes about a
second of scrolling for Oikawa to realize who it is.
His expression goes flat. He shakes his shoulder, annoyed. "Did you give
Shorty-kun my number?"
Kageyama looks down at the messages. "I let him copy my contact list when he
got a new phone," Kageyama says. "For the Karasuno numbers."
"And you didn't tell him to delete mine?"
"I didn't think he had to be told!"
"Well, whatever," Oikawa says, typing up a short, cordial thanks for Hinata's
concern. He glances over and sees Kageyama texting furiously.
Me:
hey
weirdo
why'd u keep kitagawa daiichis numbers??
Hinata:
what
who???
Me:
the team that beat your shitty team in jr high
u copied their phone numbers from my phone
delete them now
Hinata:
NO!!!!
hey
r u coming home today???
Me:
yeah
but late
Delete them dumbass
Hinata:
M ake me
( ･_･)ﾉ ⌒ ●~*
me:
is that a volleyball
Hinata:
no it's a BOMB
BUT
( ･_･)ﾉ ⌒ ●
NOW IT IS!
Oikawa watches Kageyama copy the emoticon, editing it before sending it back.
Me:
●
＼(-_＼)
Hinata:
AAAHHH
AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!
THAT'S SO COOL KAGEYAMA!!!!!!!
YOU'RE SETTING IT!!!!!
ok
i'll delete them
Oikawa scoffs. If Matsukawa thought Oikawa's texting was immature, he should
see –
Hinata:
d(⌒⌒)b
… Well. Then.
The door opens, and Kageyama sits up straight immediately, flustered.
"Ah, I apologize for the wait!"
It's a short, round alpha with a beard, hurrying into the room. "I'm Atsushi,
the bonding counselor here at Tsukuba."
Oikawa and Kageyama nod shortly.
"Well, well," Atsushi says, giving a blatantly appraising look as he sits
across from them, eyes lingering on their legs. "Very nice to meet you. You're
Tobio-kun?"
Kageyama nods.
"So you're Tooru. Great. Perfect," he says to himself as he writes something
down. "I was actually called in to help you two finish the bond, but it looks
like you worked it out in the end." He smiles at the picture they make on the
bed, effortlessly close. Embarrassment strikes in Kageyama, but Oikawa stares
back, deadpan, doing his best not to react to the stare, or to the tone that is
approaching suggestive. "So, basically I'm just here to help guide you through
the process, make sure you don't have any questions, and just be a resource
here at the hospital. Sound good?"
"Sure," Oikawa says, as Kageyama nods, very seriously.
"I've already reviewed your case, and I think this is going to be pretty
straightforward," Atsushi says. "With severing the bond as the ultimate goal,
we need to ensure that it's as stable as possible. The best way to do this is
physical proxmity. Tooru, you're enrolled at Tsukuba University. I think the
best course of action is to prioritize your classes, and have Tobio-kun move in
with you, for the next month or so – "
Neither of them make any noise, but the looks on their faces must be enough for
him to stop.
"I see Tooru has his own apartment off campus, right?" Atsushi says, looking
confused, checking his paperwork.
"I go to school in Miyagi," Kageyama says. "I can't leave for a month."
"Well," Atsushi says. "I think the most practical thing to prioritize is
Tooru's college. He's already enrolled, it's more expensive – and frankly, it's
not as though – " he laughs a little. "You really need school."
He's saying it as a compliment. One of the only reasons omegas were originally
allowed in alpha and beta schools was for the chance to socialize and court
mates their own age. In comparison to the arranged mating with much older
alphas, it had been seen as progressive at the time.
Implication being, Kageyama is attractive, and doesn't need the assistance in
order to catch an alpha. Oikawa feels his lip curl. This alpha probably isn't
an idiot, but it's clear how Oikawa could pick him apart, if he wanted. Easily.
He could be coy and flirtatious and get him to bend, bit by bit. It's a game
Oikawa knows, a game he used to enjoy, but he finds that part of himself
hollow, and furious.
Kageyama clearly hasn't picked up on any of it. "My team – "
"I'm sure any clubs you're in will be fine without you."
"No," Kageyama says, so forcefully it makes the counselor lean back.
"If you want to spend time with your friends, realistically – "
"Realistically," Oikawa says, echoing the alpha's condescending tone. "Kageyama
is a nationally ranked player. He was chosen for a spot on the Junior National
Team. I'm hoping to get an offer from a professional team in the next two
years. Neither of us can afford to leave our lives for a month."
Atsushi looks startled, then he laughs – still condescending. "Ho, ho! I see
we've got a couple of omegas who know what they want!" Atsushi says. "But I've
been doing this for a while, and it's better safe than sorry, and I still
recommend Tobio-kun moving in with you for the time being."
Oikawa glares. He could've avoided that, he could've been sweeter, made it seem
like Atsushi was kind and benevolent, indulging them by working around their
classes. The thought of doing so now sets his teeth on edge. Atsushi is a dumpy
old man. Probably someone's father. Unimpressive.
"The next thing I think the two of you should consider is an alpha companion,"
Atsushi says. "Bonds between omegas without an alpha's more rational influence
can grow unstable, and it will make the severing process much easier – "
"Atsushi-san, you're here to give advice?" Oikawa asks.
"Yes."
"And to answer our questions?"
"Yes."
"So if we don't have any questions, and we don't want your advice," Oikawa
says. "It sounds like this consult is over."
"That's hardly – "
"Thank you for your time, Atsushi-san!" Oikawa says with a smile. He stands,
grabs his jacket and bows shortly.
Kageyama watches this with wide, startled eyes, but scrambles off the bed to
follow, grabs his gym bag from the corner then bows as he backs out of the
room.
"Weekends," Oikawa says, once Kageyama catches up to him in the hall, texting
the chat to let them know he's coming. "We'll start with weekends and see if
that works."
"Okay," Kageyama says, bewildered, looking back toward the room.
"We're not going to get in trouble," Oikawa says. "He wasn't a doctor."
"Right… " Kageyama says, but still sounds lost.
"If you want to go back, go ahead."
"No, I – " Kageyama starts, then stops, looking frustrated. Oikawa curls his
lip, resisting the urge to grab Kageyama by the shirt and shake whatever it is
out. Finally, he spits out a constipated, awkward, "Thanks."
Oikawa freezes, practically feeling his anger tripping over its feet, falling
flat on its face.
"Yeah. Well," he mutters, hurrying down the hall. "Alphas."
~
Except for last year, when beta Kunimi and omega Kageyama joined Kitagawa
Daiichi, Oikawa's only played with alphas. He thinks he's been through the
worst of it, but when he walks into Aoba Johsai's gym the third week, he has to
literally pinch his nose.
"Gross," he whines, and he can feel Iwaizumi freeze up as the smell hits him,
too.
It's – beyond describing. It is a very, very bad smell, not just musky and
potent, but angry. As practice starts, the source becomes obvious: third years,
angry about one of the regular wing spikers – Kyo – stealing their tosses. It's
been happening for a while, and last night he did it during a game for the
first time.
It's already been resolved, Kyo was taken out of the game in the third set and
Coach Irihata scolded him for being impatient and selfish, but tempers are
still high.
It's not a fight, yet, but there's been a few warning snarls, one especially
rough shove, and it's only a matter of time. Everything about the smells and
noises coming from the alphas warn Oikawa to stay quiet, and far away, make
himself as small as possible and hope to be ignored. Oikawa does not like being
any of those things, but it's intimidating, and Oikawa is not an idiot. He
keeps to the sides of the court, practicing quietly.
"Oikawa," Coach Irihata suddenly calls, halfway through practice, waving him
over.
Oikawa is surprised and quickly rushes over. Irihata usually leaves practices
to Mizoguchi, but maybe the scent was enough to get his attention, too.
"Work on your tosses with Kyo."
Oikawa is horrified. "Right now?"
"Right now," Irihata nods.
Oikawa looks back over his shoulder at the group of alphas – three of them,
openly glaring at Kyo, just as angry as they were at the start of practice. One
of them throws a ball toward Kyo and he barely catches it before it nails him
in the head, and they two glare, hot and angry.
Oikawa looks back toward his coach, but Irihata only nods again, looking
unconcerned.
Oikawa swallows, and slowly turns, grabbing a ball from the car, and gives a
confused little shrug to Iwaizumi as he passes.
"Kyo-san," Oikawa calls, approaching slowly. His voice sounds annoyingly
hesitant, so he clears his throat and puts a smile on his face, and holds up
the ball. "Want some tosses?"
"What?"
As expected, all the alphas look over sharply. He expects them to sneer, to
make snide comments about a first year being too stupid to keep to himself, and
just – vague, undefined fear of violence, though he has a hard time picturing
any of his teammates actually attacking, it's exactly what the smell is
warning.
None of that happens. They look at Oikawa, holding the ball with an awkward
smile on his face, and slowly, as though waking up from a daze, start coming
back to themselves. The tension doesn't vanish, but there's an obvious
difference as they shake their heads and clear their throats.
Kyo nods after taking a sharp inhale. "Sure. Sounds good." He's unable to make
eye contact with anyone when he adds, "Want some, Mako?"
Mako, who had started drifting away, looks over his shoulder and glares hard at
Kyo.
Testing something, Oikawa takes another step closer, smiling. "Yeah, I can toss
for Mako, too!"
Mako looks between Kyo and Oikawa, as thought fighting to keep his anger up and
failing.
"Fine."
Oikawa tosses, and the third years spike, and give advice, and by the end of
practice the tension has peacefully deflated, like a balloon that was
carefully, patiently unknotted, rather than popped. Oikawa thinks about this as
he helps gather the extra balls, and Irihata confirms his suspicions when
Oikawa asks, a little hesitantly, before heading to the club house.
"To an angry alpha," Irihata says, sounding amused. "The only thing more
interesting than a fight is an omega."
Oikawa nods, his face heating a bit but he's not entirely sure why.
"And," Irihata says. "If you want to be captain one day – " Oikawa chokes. He
hasn't talked about that to anyone but Iwaizumi! In secret! But Irihata says it
easily, like it's not a big deal at all, and actually smiles at Oikawa's
surprise. "You can't be intimidated by alpha temper tantrums."
"Y-yes, sir," Oikawa nods, and hurries out to the clubhouse, where Iwaizumi is
probably waiting, annoyed and impatient.
~
"Great," Oikawa says in disgust at the stench wafting through the hall.
Kageyama hesitates at the smell, but Oikawa did become captain of Aoba Johsai,
and knows how to force down the instincts to run in the other direction.
Alphas are fighting, or close to it, and one of them is Iwaizumi but – Oikawa's
not quite sure who with… it's sort of familiar, but…
They turn the corner. Ah. Yahaba. He's always seemed a bit above alpha
posturing, he certainly never did it around Oikawa, at least, and the smell is
new.
Iwaizumi has him pinned against the wall, and it's easy to piece together what
probably happened: Yahaba said something particularly smart mouthed, and on
edge from the last week, Iwaizumi lashed out. It's not a serious fight –
Iwaizumi is holding him still, not attacking. Yahaba is enduring it, furious,
but he hasn't dropped far enough to actually fight back – he knows he's
outmatched. It's pretty clear neither of them want this, but alphas can almost
never back down to another alpha.
"Yoo-hoo! Iwa-chan!"
It's an excuse to let go, and it works. Iwaizumi is distracted from his target,
letting poor Yahaba go with a rough shove, which is good, but the tension
doesn't fade.
"Well?" Oikawa says, lifting his neck for Iwaizumi to see the mark, unable to
think of a better distraction than that. "What do you think?"
Wrong move.
In the half a second it takes for Iwaizumi's teeth to sink into his skin,
Oikawa reflects on that in almost amused disbelief. What sort of idiot –
showing his neck to a keyed up alpha – and then everything in his mind whites
out in the unthinking hum of a bond, of Iwaizumi, a boy he's trusted with every
important thing even before he knew their names.
~
"So, what? You don't love me?"
"Of course I do!"
"But when I bit your neck, nothing happened!" On the screen, the American actor
punches the wall in frustration.
Tooru lays on his stomach, watching, shoving popcorn in his mouth. Tooru likes
watching movies at Hajime's house. They're allowed snacks like this – Tooru's
mom only gives him nuts and pretzels and other boring food, and because
Hajime's parents trust him, they're allowed to watch all sorts of violent
movies unsupervised.
"What'd I do wrong?!" asks the alpha on the screen.
"You can't force an omega to accept a bond," says the omega. "It has to be
consensual."
"So… you don't want it?"
"I want it – but…" the omega turns away dramatically.
"This movie sucks," Hajime says, bored. It's movie for adults, so there should
be action and fights, but so far it's just been a lot of talking. Hajime he
doesn't like the talking parts, because he doesn't know English as well as
Tooru, and he doesn't like reading the subtitles. "Let's fast-forward."
"It's almost done," Tooru lies. He can tell they're going to keep talking for a
while.
"Omegas are sensitive," says the omega. "You have to be... gentle. Ease into
it..."
"Oh. I get it," the alpha says, suddenly smiling wolfishly.
Tooru freezes, eyes go round.
"Hajime."
"What?"
"I – " Tooru stops, because suddenly the alpha grabs the omega's shirt and rips
it open, buttons flying. The omega gasps, turning her head to the side. She's
not wearing anything underneath, and Hajime sits up straight while Tooru covers
his mouth with both hands, and they stare at her breasts. "I don't think this
is a fighting movie."
It isn't. They watch in riveted, shell shocked silence as the two actors have
sex – real sex, Tooru's sister said all kissing and sex in movies were fake,
but she obviously didn't know about movies like this – and in the end the alpha
bites the omega's neck, and they're bonded. "That's more like it," says the
omega, with a cheeky wink toward the camera.
It finishes, and Tooru doesn't really know what to say.
Silently, Hajime climbs off the couch, takes the movie out, and puts it back in
the case, and then carries it out of the room.
When he comes back, he asks if Tooru wants to play out in the yard.
They're in the middle of soccer when, suddenly very frustrated, Hajime says,
"If an alpha wants to bond with you – you should make sure they do a better job
than that, okay?!"
Tooru is surprised, then smiles so hard he feels his cheeks dimple with it.
"Okay." He knows, though, that it won't ever be a problem. It will obviously,
obviously be Hajime, and Hajime will obviously do a good job.
~
"I – " Iwaizumi stutters out, eyes wide, his arms still around Oikawa's waist.
"Tooru, I'm – "
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa interrupts, smiling. He knows it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Aren't you getting tired apologizing? Because I'm getting tired of hearing
it."
There's a long silence between them. Iwaizumi shifts as though trying to step
away, give Oikawa his space, but Oikawa realizes his hand is in Iwaizumi's
hair. He flexes, gripping tighter, crueler, keeping Iwaizumi in place. Finally,
Oikawa forces himself to let go, and step away from Iwaizumi, and face the
other shell shocked alpha in the hall.
"Yahaba! How are – "
Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa's shirt. "Tooru, we need to – "
Oikawa stops, looks down at Iwaizumi's hand, then grabs Iwaizumi's wrist,
stepping close again.
"It didn't matter when you asked," Oikawa says, voice quiet as he squeezes
Iwaizumi's wrist with his full strength. Oikawa is not weak. Oikawa is not
helpless, and it's satisfying to watch Iwaizumi flinch as he realizes this,
releasing his hold. "The answer was always going to be yes. And you knew it.
And you did it here and now. That's very selfish, Iwa-chan."
"I – didn't mean – "
"But you did, and you got your answer," Oikawa says, gesturing up at the mark
he feels, hot and spreading against his neck. He glances down impassively at
the bite he left on Iwaizumi's neck. It's prettier than the one he gave
Kageyama, a dark red circle. He looks back up to Iwaizumi's, frankly terrified,
face. "What else do you want from me? What else can't wait until later? We have
– " he almost laughs. "The rest of our lives."
That is true, and it actually calms some of his anger. There will never be a
time in Oikawa's life when he won't want to smell Iwaizumi, when he won't want
to be around him. It truly doesn't matter where and when. This is embarrassing,
this was badly timed, but he knows this was always going to be the end result.
The methods are not as important as the end result.
"Be patient," Oikawa says, smiles again and pats Iwaizumi's cheek.
It's actually the suspicious absence of Kageyama in his mind makes him remember
the other omega's existence.
Oikawa looks behind him, where Kageyama is standing, expression uncertain,
gripping the bottom of his shirt and working the edge of it between his fingers
like a small child might, diverting his gaze to the wall beside him.
Obviously they're still bonded, so Kageyama is there – Oikawa has to search in
his own mind in order to feel Kageyama pulling away, a desperate want to not
been seen, profoundly uncomfortable.
"Tobio-chan," he says. Kageyama looks over, and Oikawa realizes he didn't
really have anything to say, he just – didn't like Kageyama drifting away, for
some reason. He clears his throat, coming up with a reason. "You know Yahaba?"
Kageyama and Yahaba look at one another, and give identically awkward nods.
"Let's meet the rest of the team," Oikawa says. "They're here, right?"
"Uh," Iwaizumi says, looking surprised at being addressed. "Yeah. The lobby."
Oikawa nods, then looks again to Kageyama, who has yet to take another step
forward. "Well?"
~~~~~
Yahaba looks like a very kind version of Oikawa, and he smells like cinnamon
and apples.
There's no reason for Kageyama to be intimidated by him.
He doesn't know why he is as he follows after Oikawa.
All he wanted to do was leave the hospital room, but now that they are, each
step away from it feels – bad. His mother had wanted him to wait until she
could get back to Japan to go home, and it had felt like she was asking the
impossible. Now he wonders if this is the impossible thing.
He trails behind slowly, and Kageyama can smell all of Oikawa's friends as they
approach the lobby. He hears them talking in there, and hesitates again before
walking in.
A sudden had on his shoulder, and Kageyama blinks in surprise.
"Iwaizumi-san?"
Iwaizumi's grip is tight, and the intensity of his expression is enough to
distract from the uncomfortable feelings.
"It's good to see you," he says, like it's important that Kageyama believes it.
"You too," Kageyama mutters, embarrassed.
"You don't have to come with us," Iwaizumi says quietly. "Oikawa's – Oikawa. If
you want, you should call your parents – "
"My mom's not here," Kageyama says. He'd like to go straight to his house, but
his mother said, specifically, he can only go home without her if he's walked
there by Kunimi, the only beta present that she knows and trusts. This is too
embarrassing to say to Iwaizumi, so he just shrugs. "It's fine."
Iwaizumi narrows his eyes, checking Kageyama's expression, then lets it go.
Kageyama watches Iwaizumi walk into the lobby. He still feels nervous, he still
wants to go home, but – somehow Iwaizumi noticing, and asking about it, makes
him feel the things in his ways are just obstacles he can endure, and not
something impossible.
~
"We're having lunch in the courtyard."
"Oh," Tobio says. His fingers flex around the lunch he brought from home. He
has been looking forward to lunch, to privacy, all morning. He likes this time
to himself, and when Kindaichi grabs Tobio's bento box to encourage him to
stand up, he fights him on it, pushing it back to the desk.
"Come on, Kageyama," Kindaichi says, rolling his eyes. "Don't be weird about
it."
"All the first years are going," Kunimi says. "Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san,
too."
"This is your chance to try to – you know," Kindaichi says, gesturing with his
hand. "Make a better impression on Oikawa-san."
Tobio looks down at his lunch, frowning hard. He likes to spend time with his
team, but when it's not practice he feels out of place, and nothing Tobio says
seems to be acceptable to Oikawa, and he just – he wants to eat lunch.
"Oi. You all coming?"
The rest of the first years in Tobio's class stare at Iwaizumi, who is standing
in the doorway of the room, holding his lunch.
"Maybe you can convince him," Kindaichi says, stepping aside, pointing
accusingly at Tobio.
Iwaizumi frowns a little, stepping into the classroom.
Tobio glares down at his lunch, knowing he will not be able to say no to a
direct request from Iwaizumi to join them.
"If Tobio wants to join us, he will," Iwaizumi says. "Right?"
Tobio looks up in surprising, feeling a rush of gratitude, nodding quickly.
"We'll be in the courtyard," Iwaizumi says, and holds out his fist. Tobio
stares at it for a moment before realizing what he's asking for, face heating
with excitement as they pump together. "Come on," Iwaizumi says, nodding to the
doors, and Kindaichi and Kunimi follow.
Tobio spends the rest of his lunch bent over his desk, face bright pink, head
spinning as he replays the moment in his mind over and over again.
~
"To be honest, some good could come from this."
"Really?" Oikawa asks, flat.
"Mm, yeah, we were talking about it on the way over. I don't think coach really
knew how much you were improving the team until now."
The group is big enough that they had to get a private room at the restaurant,
which Kageyama is grateful for. He's sitting next to Oikawa, and the wall, and
across from them sits three players from Tsukuba University.
Kageyama is already familiar with two of them from their teams at nationals,
five and six years ago. Kazama Taichi and Saotome Yuto. They're both powerful
spikers, Kazama was an ace on his high school team, they're regular players at
their university as well, and Kageyama isn't surprised to hear that they're
interested in Oikawa's return.
"Ha, yeah!" says the third player, one Kageyama doesn't know but was called
Yoshi-san by a starstruck Kindaichi when he arrived at the restaurant. "The
coach was wondering why the b-line suddenly seemed so 'lazy.' You could
practically see when he realized you weren't there anymore."
Oikawa looks happy about this, chest puffing up a bit, and his pride feels warm
and confident, and Kageyama likes it, much more than the anger that keeps
peaking in Oikawa's mind.
"Oi, Oikawa," says Kazama. "I've never seen an omega mark like that before."
"Yeah. Looks just like an alpha one," Saotome says, resting his chin in his
hand, holding his saki between two lazy fingers. "You bonded with an omega,
right?"
Both of them look to Kageyama, as if double checking that he is an omega.
They're both alphas.
Kageyama doesn't know why this fact is making his palms sweat, why their stares
feel like a challenge. He tucks his chin a little closer to his chest, standing
his ground.
"I did, but," Oikawa laughs a little, briefly resting his hand on the back of
Kageyama's neck, an attempt at soothing coming through the bond. "Iwa-chan
couldn't seem to wait."
They both look at Iwaizumi in surprise.
"You're – not gonna drop out, right?" Saotome asks.
"Of course not," Oikawa scoffs.
"Two bonds in one week," Kazama laughs. "Busy boy, Oikawa."
"Isn't that a little – uh," Yoshi frowns, eyes going from Iwaizumi, to Oikawa,
to Kageyama. "You know."
"My parents are a trio." That's Kunimi. Kageyama can't see him, but he can hear
his cool and impassive voice, and the look in Yoshi's face freeze up.
"Nothing wrong with that!" he quickly says, then looks back to Oikawa. "Hope it
works out."
Kageyama waits for Oikawa to talk about severing the bond, about how it's only
going to last a year, but instead he just smiles nicely. "Thank you," he says.
Aoba Johsai's energy is very different from Karasuno's.
If Karasuno was in a room like this, it would be very loud, and bowls would
probably be knocked over, there'd be fights, and a lot of yelling, and a lot of
laughter.
He can hear Aoba Johsai all talking to one another, and it sounds like they're
enjoying themselves, but it's quiet and calm – the only time Karasuno could get
this quiet is when something especially bad happened.
Kageyama leans his head against the wall beside him, thinking. He wonders if he
would've fit in with this team, if everything had gone like it was supposed to.
He'd been so miserable the summer after junior high. Everything had seemed
awful, he had been blocked from all the powerhouse schools in Miyagi, left with
Karasuno, where he learned too late that Coach Ukai wasn't going to return.
He'd wished for Aoba Johsai or Shiratorizawa, because he didn't know that Asahi
was waiting for a decoy to help get his spikes through, that Daichi and
Nishinoya were waiting for receives, that Hinata was waiting for the right
setter to put his speed and jumps to use. A year later, Kageyama knows it was
luck that put him in Karasuno. He wouldn't be the setter he is without them,
and he's thankful for that.
He looks at Oikawa's neck. His own bond mark is hidden for now, under
Iwaizumi's fresh bite, but he knows it will bleed through again, after it's
healed.
Kageyama wants to feel lucky that this happened.
He wants to feel like there was a reason he was hurt and – grabbed that night.
Kageyama feels a frown taking form, a miserable one, one that's shaking, and
looks away, but not fast enough to avoid Oikawa's sudden, worried glance his
way.
He doesn't think there will be a good reason.
Trying to imagine one is making him feel awful.
"Excuse me," he says, standing up from the table.
Kageyama can hear the room grow quiet as he leaves, feel the stares, feels
Oikawa's steady confusion and concern, but he doesn't stop. He closes the door,
and stands there a moment with his eyes closed very tight.
When he opens them, Kageyama glances to the left, past the public tables,
toward the door. He imagines leaving the restaurant and jogging home... It'd be
dumb to try, but he likes the thought.
He spends a long time in the bathroom, looking down at the running water.
Oikawa has Iwaizumi. All Oikawa wants is Iwaizumi. He was nice to Kageyama
because he needed to bond. Now they're bonded, and it's the real world, not the
hospital, and Oikawa can be with Iwaizumi, like he was supposed to be, and –
Kageyama grips the sides of the sink, pure frustration making his eyes sting
and his face scrunch up. Maybe there will be a reason, the stupidly hopeful
thought comes again, as if giving one more attempt to ward off tears. Maybe –
something really good – will happen. He's too embarrassed to even think it in
his own head. He washes his face, hard, then scrubs it dry with the shirt he
borrowed from Oikawa. He clears his throat from the lingering thickness there,
and finally leaves the room.
Off the court, it's not often that Kageyama meets people who are taller than
him. The feeling is distinct, and his entire body freezes up when he senses the
presence of someone taller coming up behind him – hands, touching, grabbing,
jerking him –
Kageyama jumps, spinning around. Middle blocker – Hanamaki. He puts both hands
up, to show he isn't a threat.
"Whoa! You alright?"
Kageyama nods sharply, taking a step back.
"You were taking a while, Oikawa was getting kind of worried," Hanamaki says,
then grins. "But you probably knew that."
Kageyama nods again.
"Uh," Hanamaki raises an eyebrow, taking another look at him. "You… seem a
little uncomfortable. You sure you're alright?"
Kageyama nods again, not thinking about the answer, panic beginning to rise.
"Hey – oh. Good," Matsukawa is poking his head out the door of their private
room. He calls back over his shoulder, "He's right here."
Matsukawa is taller than Hanamaki. He stands at his friend's shoulder when he
comes out to join them, and the two are big enough to block Kageyama's view of
the door completely, which makes the panic more pronounced - no escape, no
escape. Yoshi is even taller than the both of them, when he decides to come
out, too, followed by Kindaichi -
"He okay?" Kindaichi asks, though he's looking at Kageyama, and could've asked
directly. His face is red, he's a little drunk.
"You okay?"
Kageyama opens his mouth, but nerves and fear jamming up everything from his
brain to his throat and nothing comes out.
Yoshi looks down at him, then sucks in air through his teeth in a noise of
pity. "Kid's gone alpha-shy."
There's a beat of silence.
Alpha shy. It's something that happens to very tiny, cute omegas in mangas. It
would make even – having dinner with a group of alphas a nightmare, let alone
playing against a team of them. It would ruin any chance of playing at a
competitive level.
"No, that's – "
"Not a real thing," Hanamaki says, but they're all stepping back, giving
Kageyama his space, staring at him in a mix of horror and pity.
"There's no way," Kindachi laughs, shaking his head.
"Look at him," Yoshi says.
Kageyama opens his mouth, frustrated with himself and determined say something
but all all that comes out is a pathetic little whine. It's an omega noise,
instinctual and desperate.
"Oh, no," one of them says, soft and sad.
"Hey," Iwauzimi says, not loud, but impossible to ignore, and Kageyama hears
some of the diners in the public area freeze at the noise. "Back off, already!"
They apologize, the group filing back into the private room, and as they go,
Kageyama sees both Iwaizumi and Oikawa behind them, waiting outside the
doorway.
The hall is full of alpha smells, and he can't smell Oikawa – only a lingering
trace on the borrowed shirt. Kageyama swallows, clenching his hands into fists.
"I want to go home."
Oikawa nods, and bats Iwaizumi's shoulder, forcing him back into the room.
Iwaizumi, who still looks furious, looks back and forth between Oikawa and
Kageyama, like he's reluctant to go, and Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him,
then slides the door shut in his face.
"Okay," he says, stepping closer. Kageyama doesn't want to, doesn't plan to,
but as soon as he gets within arms reach, he's grabbing for Oikawa, putting his
face in his neck. Oikawa sighs, hand on the back of Kageyama's head. "Let's
head down to the train."
"I need Kunimi," Kageyama mutters, embarrassed to have to do it.
"... Eh?" Oikawa asks.
~
"I don't think you're alpha-shy," Kunimi says. "I think you're just freaked
out. This dinner was a bad idea."
"Yeah," Kageyama says, as they walk down the steps to the bullet train.
"Do you know what I hate?"
Kageyama flinches, bracing himself, pretty sure there's not any good answer to
that. "No."
"Ice."
Kunimi had seemed incredibly impassive in the restaurant, even moreso than
usual, when he was told he had to be the one to walk Kageyama home.
Kageyama had assumed it was because Kunimi was annoyed, or maybe feeling bad
about everything, but he realizes, as they take a seat on the train and Kunimi
continues to complain at length about ice, that he's just incredibly drunk.
Kageyama is grateful, though, not in the mood for any kind of serious
conversation.
"They fill the cup with it so they don't have to give you as much to drink,"
Kunimi is still going as they exit Tsukuba. "And when it melts, it dilutes the
drink. And, I saw a special once, about how restaurants don't clean out their
ice machines, so they're full of germs – What? Why are you making that face?"
"Wouldn't… it just be.. water?" Kageyama asks. What do they need to clean?
Kunimi stares for a second – then gives such a surprising burst of laughter,
Kageyama almost jumps. "Oh my god. Kageyama."
He knows Kunimi is laughing at him, but it's been so long since he's seen him
happy that it's hard to get annoyed - Kageyama actually holds back a smile at
the sight.
"Germs live on water, too, Kageyama," Kunimi finally explains.
"Right."
"Heating the water – ?"
Kageyama's face heat as he cottons on. "Kills them."
"Freezing the water doesn't," Kunimi finishes the thought, obviously still
amused, but he's always been good at explaining things without being mean about
it, and being drunk hasn't changed this. "Do you think we would've won?"
"Wha – ?"
"Back in Kitagawa Daiichi," Kunimi says. "If we had all stayed on the court."
Kageyama looks down at his feet. He knows the answer immediately, he's wondered
about it enough. He nods.
Kunimi nods. "I think so, too."
Silence.
"You were nice when we first met," Kunimi says, smile still lingering on his
face. "Weird, but nice."
Kageyama stares harder at his shoes, anxiousness rising. He doesn't know what
to say.
"I almost quit, third year."
Kageyama looks up in shock.
"You were – " Kunimi narrows his eyes, struggling to figure out the right word.
"Awful. Awful to play with. I love volleyball. It took a long time for me to
remember that after playing with you."
Kageyama swallows, then nods, stiffly.
"And I don't like confrontation," Kunimi says, then covers his mouth to cover
either a hiccup or a soft burp. "I was just going to stop showing up, but
Kindaichi – Kindaichi was sure he could fix it. He tried talking with you – and
you got worse."
"Yeah."
"You were nice, once… " Kunimi says again, sadder this time. He sighs. "Then
Kindaichi tried talking to the coach, and Coach Yoshino didn't do anything, so
– what else was he supposed to do?"
Kunimi actually looks at Kageyama as though expecting a response, and
Kageyama's mouth works, "Uh – "
"He wasn't going to quit, and he wasn't going to let you keep – shouting at him
like that. So what else? What else what he supposed to do? He was in junior
high."
Kageyama nods quickly, his shoulders hitching up in shame.
Kunimi stares at him for a long moment then sighs again, dropping against the
seat.
"But," he says. "You were in junior high, too."
Kageyama looks over in surprise.
"I remember being jealous that you never freaked out during games," Kunimi
says. "It didn't matter how poorly we did. Then I realized you were freaking
out when you started getting – annoying. And mean, and loud. But you didn't
make mistakes, so you got to stay on the court. I was jealous of that, too."
"But then I realized you never… when most players freak out, they start making
mistakes, so they get switched out, and they get a break, and calm down,"
Kunimi says. "But you never made enough mistakes to get pulled off the court.
So you never got to calm down. When it started to happen in interhigh last
year, I couldn't believe when your coach subbed you out for that other setter!"
His eyes open at the memory, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's all I ever
wanted Coach Yoshino to do, but when it happened, I remembered thinking how
risky for your team… how stupid. One game away from the prefecture qualifier!
Of course Yoshino never had the guts. As long as you were still going, of
course he was going to keep you in. But that wasn't fair to you. Or to us. It
gave you a lot of bad habits, I think."
"He said he could sub me out any time," Kageyama says, he'd always known it was
an option, Coach Yoshino reminded him constantly, if he couldn't handle the
pressure, there were others who could take his place –
"He threatened you with getting replaced," Kunimi says. "He did it to all of
us. Honestly." He covers his mouth again, and it's definitely a burp, cheeks
puffing out a little. "I don't think things between you and Oikawa-san ever
would've gotten as bad if it wasn't for Yoshino."
"What?"
Kunimi shakes his head, waving his hand. "Never mind. I don't know anything. It
was a while ago."
Kageyama nods, accepting this, but then Kunimi's starting up again, louder than
before.
"All I know is, Coach Irihata wouldn't have handled it like that," he says.
"Competition is good, but he knew Oikawa was afraid. We all did. He just made
it worse."
"Afraid?"
"Afraid. Of you."
Kageyama just stares, and Kunimi shakes his head again. "Don't worry about it."
Kunimi really has finished for now, and has started closing his eyes, bringing
his knees up to his chest, somewhat awkwardly of the small space of the bench.
It forces him sideways, against Kageyama's shoulder.
"What are you gonna do?" Kunimi asks, sleepily, as his eyes close.
"About what?" Kageyama asks.
"Oikawa. Your bond. Your – your fucking life," Kunimi laughs a little flatly.
"I'm not sure," he says.
"Well," Kunimi snickers, lifting his arm up over his own head to pat
Kageyama's, awkwardly. "You'll always have volleyball."
By the time they get to Miyagi, Kunimi is asleep, and doesn't want to wake up,
grouchy and uncooperative when Kageyama gets him up onto his feet.
He wobbles a bit under Kunimi's full weight – he's skinny, but tall, and it's
an awkward weight to carry, especially with how Kunimi's feet drag on the
ground, tripping both of them up.
"Wa- wait, stop – " Kunimi suddenly says, hitting Kageyama's back repeatedly in
a panic. Kageyama stops, unsure of what Kunimi needs, and he stumbles the few
steps to the sidewalk to be sick in the bushes of his neighbor's home.
"You could – stay at my place," Kageyama offers, as his hand hovers over
Kunimi's back, not quite able to bring himself to touch. He's sure coming home
like this will cause some problems, his own mother would destroy the world if
Kageyama came home in this state, but Kunimi waves him off.
When his father answers the door he seems surprised, but not especially angry
at Kunimi's state, but double takes at Kageyama.
"Oh," he says, looking suspicious. "Tobio-kun."
Kageyama nods. It must be odd, Kageyama thinks, to have your son dropped off at
your home by his junior high bully.
"Do, uh – you want to come in?" he asks, gamely.
"No, thank you," Kageyama says, and bows a brief goodbye, so anxious to get
home he ends up running most of the way.
He fumbles as he unlocks the door, showers, and even though it's a warm night,
he bundles up in pajamas – as an afterthought, dropping Oikawa's shirt on the
bed, just in case – curling up in his own blankets, on his own bed, and thinks
he's too worked up to sleep, but drops off almost immediately.
~
Kageyama wakes abruptly, feeling happiness so intense his eyes are wet. It's
profound – the intensity of the bliss, a kind of relief, like finding something
he thought was lost.
It's Oikawa.
Kageyama tilts his head back on the pillow, panting, unsure of what to do – the
feeling is so strong it takes another moment to even realize he's in heat.
Maybe that's why he was so nervous around the alphas? And so desperate to get
home? Though his heats have never hit like that before, it's a better answer
than being alpha-shy.
Kageyama hands grip the bedsheets, breathing in shakily. Oikawa – is extremely
happy. And – and something else, something that makes his stomach flex in a
tingling way he doesn't fully understand at first, and feeling it in same makes
him – makes him –
He's not sure, but he ends up rolling onto his stomach, sliding a body pillow
between his legs, flexing his thighs around it. This feels good, it – feels
good.
~
"Try jumping!"
"I am!"
In the Kitagawa Daiichi gym, Kindaichi and Kunimi were put in charge of
mopping, and Kageyama was gathering all the extra balls. He's gotten all but
one, which is lodged in the bars of the basketball hoop. Kindaichi and Kunimi
are watching, leaning against the mops, cheering him on and laughing, as
Kageyama uses a stick, jumping, trying to tap it free.
"Commit your heart, Kageyama-kun!"
"You can do it!"
But even jumping his highest, Kageyama can't reach. He's pretty sure one of the
third years could, he could ask, but he wants to do it on his own –
"Here."
Kageyama blinks at the sound of Iwaizumi's voice, very close – very close, then
chokes a little at Iwaizumi's hands, suddenly on his hips. Iwaizumi hoists him
up into the air with strength that makes Kageyama's mouth fall open.
"Can you reach?" Iwaizumi grunts, straining.
"Uh – y-yeah," Kageyama says, head spinning. He knows it should be
embarrassing. Iwaizumi would never handle an alpha or beta like this, and if it
was anyone else lifting him up, it would be, anyone else's hands wrapped tight
around his hips, thumbs digging slightly into the small of his back – but
Iwaizumi isn't mean, and Kageyama isn't upset, really, he just – just –
He jabs once at the ball, and it arches high, dropping to the floor. His face
is so red when Iwaizumi sets him down that Iwaizumi laughs. "You alright?"
Kageyama nods, but he's got so much confused energy in him that it turns into a
bow, and he escapes, running after the ball.
That night, just two hours later, while watching television with his sister, he
remembers the feeling of Iwaizumi's hands at his hips, of his easy, impressive
strength, has his first heat.
~
Kageyama has seen himself done, there's really no other options during heats.
It's always simple and fast, and he doesn't think about anything, biting his
lip as he grinds against the pillows or works with his hand.
Combined with Oikawa's – feelings – though – he needs more. There's something
dangling in his mind, a craving he can see the outline of, and if he thinks
hard enough about it, he'll know what fits in there...
Daichi.
He's the only person Kageyama's imagined like this, the way Daichi smells like
freshly brewed coffee and clove, he only does it because of one specific time:
the meeting where he passed behind Kageyama, setting his hand on the small of
Kageyama's back as he went.
"Scuse me," Daichi had said, smiling kindly, removing his hand – large and warm
– but it still left a sudden, surprised tingle up Kageyama's back.
It was very easy to imagine the hand staying put – Daichi pulling him closer –
thick, strong arms around Kageyama's waist – a shudder through his body, but
it's not quite right, not quite – not – what he needs right now.
~
"What's wrong?"
Tobio shakes his head. Go away, he wants to say to Iwaizumi. There's only one
month left before the end of the year, and he knows he's running out of time to
impress Iwaizumi. For Iwaizumi to want to hit his tosses, to want to play with
him. He definitely won't want any of that if he sees Tobio crying in the
clubhouse like a grade schooler because he can't get his shoes right.
"If there's nothing wrong," Iwaizumi says. "You better get to practice. You're
going to be late."
Tobio sniffles hard, and stands up, and it gives his problem away.
"And get your shoes on properly."
He can't. They're new, and they fit in the store, but then his mother tightened
the laces once they got home, and he's been picking at them since he got out of
class, but they're too tight, and he can't cram his feet back in –
Iwaizumi frowns, bending down on one knee to look. "Sit down," he says, and
Tobio does, his face heating in misery and frustration, his fingers aching from
trying to loosen them, the tips of his fingernails ruined.
"It's okay," Iwaizumi says, soothing and calm, hand on Tobio's knee, because
apparently he's still sniffling. "It's important to get this right. Some
players tie them up too tight and damage their toes."
Tobio nods.
It feels like there's pressure on his chest, sometimes, when he comes to
practice, because he always tries his best, but Oikawa never likes it. To mess
up on something so easy, something a baby could do, is so awful it almost makes
his head swim. He can't imagine how Oikawa will react when he hears about it..
He doesn't realizes he's worried about all that, though, until Iwaizumi puts
his thumbs in either side of the shoe, pushing outward, and the tops of the
laces loosen a bit. Patiently, slowly, he goes through, row by row, pulling the
laces up, speaking calmly the entire time, and Tobio realizes that it won't be
as bad as he thought. Maybe Oikawa won't even find out. He sniffles again, for
another reason he's not really sure about, but it's not bad.
"You don't want them too loose either, this is a mistake a lot of people make,"
Iwaizumi says, still calm and soothing. He finishes tying the knot. "Alright?
That feel good?"
Tobio knows how to check this – he's done it a lot. He rolls his foot and takes
a step, testing the support on the heel.
He nods. "Thank you, Iwaizumi-san," he says, wiping at his cheeks.
Iwaizumi smiles, and rests his hand on the top of Tobio's head. He doesn't
ruffle Tobio's hair, though, like he usually does, and Tobio blinks in surprise
when he feels Iwaizumi's thumb brushing gently across his forehead.
"It's... been nice playing with you this year, Tobio," Iwaizumi says. "Make it
to Aoba Johsai so we can play again, alright?"
His eyes are warm and fond and Tobio feels his head swimming again. He nods
weakly, then follows Iwaizumi into practice like a shadow.
~
Kageyama's thighs grip the pillow tightly, and he shakes, finally finding the
word for what fits in that shape – the thing Oikawa is blasting into his mind.
It's love, and he found shades of it there, in that scene, caring patience and
understanding, and when he comes, he's imagining the look on Iwaizumi's face,
that warmth and fondness, in a very different context.
The feeling pulses through his entire body, making his orgasm tingle
pleasantly, and he's always been silent when he came in the past, but this time
he finds his mouth opening, moaning softly as the feelings wash pleasantly over
him.
He's lying in a sort of daze, shivering, still wrapped around his pillow, sure
he's never felt this good in his life – maybe something good will happen –
Until, like a lightswitch being flipped, the feeling is cut off.
***** Chapter Eight *****
Chapter Summary
     IIIIINNNN Japan it's the decent thing to have a shower before sex,
     not showering before sex is seen as really unhygienic/gross. I
     wouldn't have included that element in this fic, except it really
     helped pace the scenes, SO. JUST A HEADS UP.
     Also I AM SO SORRY, i didn't want to do this but this current chapter
     was reaching almost 19k and I knew I wasn't gonna be able to finish
     it tonight and it's already been so long since the last update DX
     This is almost ENTIRELY an Iwaizumi/Oikawa chapter!!! The second half
     that i am going to try to get up by Wednesday is all about kageyama
     in Miyagi. There's some kageyama stuff here but. u know. not the Good
     Stuff. which i really didn't want to do after that cliffhanger but
     glakdgglkd anyway. wish me luck for wednesday posting!! :P
     also this starts out in the middle of the last chapter from Oikawa's
     POV.
"You're not gonna drop out, right?"
"Of course not."
"Two bonds in one week," Kazama laughs. "Busy boy, Oikawa."
Oikawa smiles back, as wide and shameless as possible. Thankfully, Yoshi says
something stupid almost immediately, and the distraction means no one notices
when Oikawa's smile drops.
There's nothing especially judgmental in Saotome or Kazama's faces, and they
sound genuinely eager to have Oikawa back in the Tsukuba University gym, but he
can tell they're watching, carefully.
They're curious.
They're wondering if Oikawa is the kind of omega who will become soft and
pathetic after a bond, or skittish and timid after being hurt.
Oikawa knew this would probably be one of the fall outs from bonding,
regardless of how or when, but he'd always assumed it would be on his own
terms. After a traumatic bond, all he can do is scramble for damage control. In
three years, Oikawa expects to be putting on The Tsukuba captain's jersey, but
that won't happen if his teammates start seeing him as a victim, a helpless
omega, and any show of weakness could do exactly that.
This is fine, because there's no weakness to show.
Oikawa is not pathetic, soft or timid. He is not a victim.
He invited these people to dinner for the specific purpose of demonstrating
that: Saotome and Kazama are both reliable, honest teammates and leaders, and
Yoshi is a shameless gossip. Oikawa wants to control the story they'll end up
reporting to the team, but he hadn't anticipated Iwaizumi's restlessly broiling
frustration on his left, nor Kageyama's tremulous, rapidly growing fear to his
right. Oikawa can feel his expression growing pinched as he's crushed between
them, and forces himself to relax, smiling just a beat behind at a joke someone
at the other end of the table made.
He resents Iwaizumi for this.
For everything, really: for cramming his distracting feelings inside Oikawa's
head, for the two months of silence, the fight, the train, and everything that
happened to him and Kageyama because of it, each uncomfortable moment, each
pain, the entire sobbed, humiliating confession.
Part of him thinks that's not fair, no one person could possibly make up for
all of that, and in fact Iwaizumi has already attempted to apologize. But
feeling very vicious and mean, Oikawa thinks that he never promised to be fair.
This is what Iwaizumi signed up for when he bit into Oikawa's neck, all of
Oikawa, even Oikawa at his very worst, and he resolves to shove each bit of it
down Iwaizumi's throat.
Kageyama's fear, a steady, constant pressure against his mind that he's bracing
against, suddenly warps, to a sharp, piercing sort of misery, and stabs into
Oikawa so cold and deep that he flinches.
He glances over, but Kageyama quickly looks away, embarrassed and overwhelmed,
then stands.
"Excuse me," he mutters, voice tight.
Oikawa watches him go – feels Saotome and Kazama and Yoshi watching him – but
Kageyama's hectic feelings grow much, much calmer as soon as the door slides
shut.
Oikawa relaxes slightly in relief. Kageyama wants to be alone. Fair enough.
"You okay?" Iwaizumi asks. He's looking down at Oikawa's drink instead of
Oikawa's face.
Oikawa glares, and brings his drink to his lips, forcing Iwaizumi's gaze to
follow, then look away awkwardly. Fucking coward.
"I'm good," he says.
He doesn't need to feel it, he can see Iwaizumi's disbelief in his face, but
he's smart enough to leave it.
Yoshi is attempting to make eye contact, about to open his mouth to ask a
question, probably about Kageyama, and how he's doing, and how Oikawa's doing,
and so on. Oikawa quickly cuts him off, grabbing for the first distraction he
sees –
"So, Mad-Dog Chan," he says loudly, resting his chin on his hand. "When exactly
did you get your bond?"
Kyotani is apparently too startled to be disagreeable. "Three days ago."
"Tell us about it."
"About..?" Kyotani repeats, in that deep, severe voice, chin tucking down
defensively in a way that reminds Oikawa of Kageyama. Yahaba watches in
suspicion beside him.
"Mm, all about it," Oikawa says.
"Yeah, you guys are like – crazy young to be bonded," Watari – obviously
sharing whatever Kunimi is drinking – says. "What's it like?"
Kyotani scowls, and it's not until he sees the mirrored annoyance on Yahaba's
face, the protective way he leans closer to confront the others at the table,
that it actually clicks for Oikawa, the two of them. It's interesting, he
thinks – the inversion of Iwaizumi and himself. If Iwaizumi was an omega, if
Oikawa was an alpha, maybe. If Iwaizumi's aggression was more defensive and
scared, and Oikawa was more straight forward and assertive with his words,
maybe. It's Yahaba that takes over as the tips of Kyotani's ears go pink.
"Oikawa-san, that's private – "
"It's like a dislocated joint."
There's a beat of silence. Yahaba looks horrified. "Wha – what?"
Kyotani clears his throat, looking enormously uncomfortable. "I haven't had
one," he says, still muttering, and it makes the rest of the table lean in
closer to hear. "But I saw, once, someone popping their shoulder back into
place. It hurts, but there's relief after. When it's back where it belongs. So
you're whole. It's like that."
A dislocated joint. Oikawa could kiss Kyotani, it's about the least omegan
thing he could've said, and it's obviously going over well with the Tsukuba
players, who stare, looking impressed.
"You're on the team, uh – " Saotome asks. "Mad Dog?"
"Kyotani," he says.
At the same time Yahaba nods, "Wing spiker."
"On the left??" Yoshi says. "Sheesh! You Miyagi omegas are something else!"
Yahaba laughs politely along with the rest of them, but it's a little strained,
and his arm stretches possessively over the back of Kyotani's seat, still
worked up.
Truthfully, Oikawa is beginning to find it difficult to follow the
conversation.
He had hoped Kageyama would keep growing calmer, but this is not the case.
Oikawa is reminded of the phone call Kageyama made to his mother – that
suffocating hopelessness, but far more intense.
Well, this is definitely something he can't blame on Iwaizumi. Oikawa wanted to
make an appearance, but he genuinely enjoys being social, and he couldn't feel
safer than he does with his friends around him.
But Kageyama is not Oikawa, the way he comforts himself is certainly nothing
like the way Oikawa does, and these are not his friends.
~
"Tobio-kun."
The assistant coach is losing his patience, and it's really no surprise. The
tournament with Shiratorizawa Junior Academy is coming up, and they're pushing
blocking at practices, doing everything they can to limit Ushijima's demon
spikes.
This is the second day of working on swing blocks with Kageyama, and practice
is almost over.
"Slow down. When you go that fast, you get too much momentum! You can't run
into a swing block without running into the other blockers. Got it?!"
"Yes!" Kageyama nods, holding his hip from the last time he crashed into
Kindaichi.
"Really? You understand?"
"Yes!"
"Okay. Let's try it again."
Kageyama does not understand. The assistant coach has tried to phrase this
about ten different ways and it's obviously not clicking. Oikawa watches,
unsurprised, as Kageyama overcorrects, going far too slow for a proper swing
block, and the spiker slams the ball down over his head.
"A little faster than that," the assistant coach says, between clenched teeth.
"R-right," Kageyama says, clearly confused.
Again. The spiker jumps. Kindaichi steps, turns, jumps to block – wincing when
Kageyama slams into him, yet again.
"Tobio!" The assistant coach stops, and forces himself to calm down. Kageyama
is watching with anxious eyes, wilting inward. He's trying, clearly, trying to
listen, but this, Oikawa supposes, is the downside of being a natural. When
something doesn't click, not a lot of coaching is going to help. "Let's pick
this up tomorrow. Go practice your spikes."
Kageyama nods, shoulders still up as he runs off, obviously embarrassed by his
performance.
It's petty. Everyone struggles, of course, it's part of getting better, but the
sight of Tobio-kun's is enough to have Oikawa whistling and nearly skipping to
the clubhouse at the end of practice. He's smiling all through classes the next
day, especially helpful and kind to his classmates and teachers.
This good mood lasts until the end of day, when club activities begin, and he
enters the gym to see Kageyama is still struggling, but it's not the assistant
coach and Kindaichi working with him today.
"Let's count it. Alright?" Iwaizumi says. "One, two, three – "
Oikawa scowls, and turns around to focus on his own practice, but of course he
keeps getting distracted.
Kageyama is worse than ever. He's obviously more invested in performing well
for Iwaizumi than he was for the assistant coach, and failing makes him even
more flustered, leading to even more mistakes. After the fourth fall into his
rear end, Iwaizumi suggests switching to receives. Miserably, Kageyama agrees.
This should make Oikawa happy, but Iwaizumi keeps working with him until the
end of practice, obviously out of pity.
Iwaizumi practices with the younger students all the time, but his focused
attention on Kageyama always rubs Oikawa the wrong way. Maybe it's the silver
volleyball charm that still dangles off Iwaizumi's bag, or the particular way
that Iwaizumi speaks to all omegas, just a bit gentler, just a bit kinder, that
he of course extends to Kageyama, as well.
Oikawa is in a horribly jealous, scowly mood by the end of the day and isn't
trying to hide it. He knows Iwaizumi won't have much patience for it, and is
ready for all his angry attention when he meets him outside of the club house.
Iwaizumi closes and locks the door, then turns around and glares at Oikawa.
"You're not the only one who wants to win."
Oikawa blinks in surprise. It's not the reprimand he was expecting.
"Kageyama is good," Iwaizumi says. "If he's good, we're all good. I'm going to
work with him until he gets swing blocks, and if you were smart, you'd stop
being selfish and do the same. Shittykawa."
Oikawa frowns slightly, thumb under his messenger bag, watching Iwaizumi march
off without waiting for him.
Oikawa walks slowly past the gym, and hears what he knows is Kageyama, still
inside, the soft tap of the ball against the wall as he practices receives.
Oikawa pauses in the doorway, watching. If asked, Oikawa would say it's because
Iwaizumi is right. Kitagawa Daiichi needs the best blockers they can get in
order to win the Junior High Athletics Meet. The coaches, apparently, don't
know how to make this happen, neither does Iwaizumi, or anyone else, but Oikawa
does.
Oikawa can fix this, and if he does, Iwaizumi won't have to help him anymore.
It's actually selfishness – extreme selfishness – that gets him dropping his
messenger bag by the door.
"Tobio-chan."
Kageyama looks up.
"If you're going to run into a swing block," he says. "You have to stop."
Oikawa walks to the center of the net, and Kageyama watches, head tilted to the
side. Oikawa doesn't hurry into swing blocks during games, not like Kageyama is
trying. But he's seen it done, and he knows the problem isn't timing. Oikawa
copies the speed Kageyama was using, and at the very end – stomps his foot into
the ground, planting it in place, then springs up, into a block.
Kageyama's face clears, eyes growing wide.
"Got it?"
"Uhm – "
"Use your leg," he says, patting his own thigh, stomping again. "Plant it. Then
jump. If you can't stop, then you can't go that fast. Fast, stop, jump. Got
it?"
Oikawa knows Kageyama understood when he copies it, stomping his own leg
experimentally.
Oikawa nods and leaves the gym, waving over his shoulder at Kageyama's shouted
Thank you, Oikawa-san!!
Monday comes, practice starts, and Kageyama only crashes into Kindaichi twice.
"Whatever you're thinking about," Iwaizumi says, voice heavy with warning.
"Stop it."
Oikawa looks quickly away from Kageyama's vastly improved practice, too
confused by his reaction to it to play along.
Well, it worked – Iwaizumi isn't practicing with him. And, honestly, it doesn't
really mean much. Eventually, Kageyama would've figured out the swing block.
But Oikawa knows, absolutely, that the coach never would've taught it to him.
That no one here could – except Oikawa. Oikawa saw Kageyama's confusion and
knew what words to say, for Kageyama in particular. That Kageyama had a
problem, and only Oikawa could solve it.
It's a strange thing churning in his gut, almost to the point of being
uncomfortable. If he wanted… If Oikawa wanted… he could. Certainly. It'd be
easy, to just reach out and… take. If he wanted. Kageyama wouldn't even resist.
He'd twist into whatever shape Oikawa wanted, happily.
Of course, Oikawa doesn't want this. He'd be happiest if Kageyama's parents
moved to Timbuktu, if he turned out to be the long lost son of the Imperial
Family, if he got discovered by some boy band and became an idol. Any of it,
anything, as long as it got him away from Oikawa.
But he could.
~
"Hey, you alright?"
Oikawa blinks open eyes he's only just realized he's squeezed shut, and sees
the entire table watching.
"Is it the bond?" Hanamiki asks.
Oikawa licks his lips, wanting to strangle Hanamiki. He's not sure how to play
this. Tobio-chan, poor, scared, little kohai? – it's a tempting narrative, a
degree away from Oikawa, and the only thing he can think of.
"Well," he says, solemnly. "This hasn't exactly been easy for Tobio-chan."
"That's right, with an omega to omega bond you can both feel each other."
"He's still in high school, right? First year?"
"Second," Kindaichi says.
"Man," Saotome says. "Poor kid."
"Should someone go after him?"
Hanamiki is already getting to his feet. "I have to go to the bathroom anyway."
Oikawa keeps his expression impassive, humming to himself as he cuts into his
steak, taking a bite that his overworked nerves turn to rubber on his tongue.
He's not entirely surprised when Matsukawa, who is always hands on with any
kind of problem and particularly chivalrous when it comes to omegas, decides to
follow after Hanamiki, and from there almost everyone's attention is on the
door, and Oikawa can drop his fork with a sharp huff.
"How are you two going to handle this?" Kazama asks.
Oikawa glances up, caught.
They're not close enough for that to be a polite question, but Kazama's staring
Oikawa down, pointedly. He's not trying to be polite. It's the reason Oikawa
invited him, Kazama is known for his candor. He wants Oikawa on the team, and
wants to know how realistic that still is. He's being as nice as possible about
it, too, waiting until everyone else was distracted, half of them out in the
hallway, to ask.
"He went to nationals last season, right?" Kazama asks. "And he's just gonna
drop out?"
"No, he's not," Oikawa says, struggling to keep his tone light. This is the
conversation he's been waiting to have, but out in the hall, Kageyama is
nearing a full on panic, and it takes all of Oikawa's self control to keep
meeting Kazama's gaze. In the hospital room, all he had to do to calm that
panic was stretch out his arm, but now he can't, Kageyama is out of reach, and
his fingers flex around his knife. "But it's not like this is the first long
distance bond in the world."
"No, but it's new, and – " Kazama shakes his head. "Our tournament season is
starting up soon. We need you at practices. If you can't prioritize – "
"I don't think I've given you any reason to doubt that I'd prioritize our
team."
Iwaizumi is frustrated by this discussion. He's tense all over, holding himself
back from interjecting on Oikawa's behalf, which would be the absolute worst
thing – Oikawa has to speak for himself. Part of him appreciates the wealth of
Iwaizumi's annoyance, but another part wants to put his head down on the table
and scream at the two extremes making a mess of his mind.
Instead, he smiles as charmingly as he can at Kazama to ease any defensiveness
or hostility in his tone.
It works, Kazama smiles back ruefully. "Ah, true. I guess I'm just worried. I'd
really like to play a tournament with your tosses before I graduate."
"You and me both," Oikawa says, laughing lightly. "Ah, excuse me. It looks like
I'll have to settle this."
He gets up as calmly as he can, but by the time he's at the door, he's reached
his limit. When he runs straight into Kindaichi's back, he has to in the urge
to just shove him to the side, to force his way through the wall of people
blocking him from his – his what? His mate? He's not sure, but Kageyama is a
shuddering, desperate presence in his mind, officially terrified, and Oikawa
doesn't have patience for a wall of alphas standing between them.
A shaking, desperate noise cuts through the group. Oikawa freezes, nearly
seeing red, but Iwaizumi, directly behind him, hears it, too.
"Hey," Iwaizumi snaps, and the alphas freeze at his voice. "Back off, already!"
It'd be impossible not to listen – even Yoshi, who has never met Iwaizumi
before, quickly stands to the side, apologizing as he does.
Oikawa finally gets a good look at Kageyama when they clear the hall, and has
to bite his tongue.
Kageyama is not an expressive person. He'll show an emotion once it reaches a
point of extreme, and Oikawa's seen Kageyama reach this point a few times the
past few days, but – it's gutting each time, the visual representation of
what's happening behind his normally impassive features. His eyes are red from
recent tears, his pupils pinpoints of fear, taking in sharp, shaking gasps for
air. He's gripping the bottom of his shirt again, hands in tight fists.
It seems to take him a second to focus on Oikawa, and when he does, he takes
another breath in, wiping at the tears on his face.
"I want to go home."
Oikawa steps forward instinctively – and feels Iwaizumi beside him, doing the
same. No, Oikawa thinks, eyes narrowed, batting Iwaizumi back. This is
Oikawa's.
Iwaizumi looks like he might protest, but he must realize he really doesn't
have a claim here, even if he wishes he did. He relents, and Oikawa sticks his
tongue out before sliding the door shut in his face.
He reaches Kageyama, and the way the boy's nerves start to settle and calm from
his touch, after feeling them grow worse and worse all night, is satisfying
beyond belief. He grips the front of Oikawa's shirt, like he's afraid of Oikawa
stepping away, so he puts his hand on the back of his head, holding him closer.
Despite what just happened, Oikawa's immediate thought is to turn around and
lead Kageyama back into the room with his team – and he realizes what he had,
quite stupidly, been trying to do this evening.
No one talks about packs anymore in any kind of seriousness, but Oikawa knows
that's exactly what he sees his Aoba Johsai teammates as. Kageyama, now, as
well. He was trying to integrate him in, make him a proper member, and now that
he's hurting, take him to safety – but he couldn't have picked a worse time and
place.
Kageyama pulls at Oikawa's shirt again, redoubling his grasp, shaking. He needs
to go home.
~
Running his thumb along the serrated edge of his knife, Oikawa nods along with
the conversation, barely listening.
Kageyama – presumably on a train with Kunimi – is feeling uncomfortable. Oikawa
lets point of the knife dig just slightly under his fingernail, a warning
pressure, about to turn into pain. He backs off and does it again, pressing
slightly harder as Kageyama's stress increases.
It's not fear, though. So nothing's wrong. He's just uncomfortable. All sorts
of things make Kageyama uncomfortable. It could be an old lady trying to make
conversation, or child staring too long. Or another teenager. Or an older man.
He remembers the bonding counselor's blatant look up Kageyama's legs –
"Ow," Oikawa says, pouting down at his finger, finally pressing hard enough to
actually hurt. When he checks, though, there's no cut and no blood.
Still, he pushes the knife away to keep himself from playing with it anymore,
fiddling with his chopsticks instead. The worry is steady and unrelenting, and
he can't focus on the conversation until finally, Kageyama is at home – relief
and happiness spreads through both of them like warmth – and at almost comical
speed, is asleep.
Dinner winds down, and properly drunk Kindaichi makes a foolishly generous
offer to pay for the entire table's meal, then obviously regrets it. The whole
group toys around with him for ten minutes or so, watching him sweat, then
splits the bill properly, and start saying their goodbyes.
"The coach will be glad to hear you're ready to start playing," Kazama says, as
one of the last ones to leave, and Oikawa grins and thanks him, sure Kazama's
word will be enough to smooth over any sort of exaggerated nonsense Yoshi makes
of that scene in the hall.
And then there was one, Oikawa thinks, looking over at Iwaizumi.
"You coming?" Oikawa asks, then frowns in exaggerated thought. "Unless you need
to catch that 60 minute train to Chou."
Iwaizumi clearly recognizes his own words from all those nights ago, his
expression growing flat – interestingly, his presence in Oikawa's mind pulls
back briefly, like a short, surprised inhale. Then it's back, frustrated.
"There's no way you're as angry at me as I am at myself."
"Don't count me out yet!" Oikawa laughs. He bows to the restaurant staff as
they leave. "Thank you very much!"
This, of course, obligates Iwaizumi to do the same, and he echos Oikawa with an
exasperated nod.
Living off campus is an allowance given to all omegas at Tsukuba University,
including first years, and Oikawa's apartment is three blocks from east campus,
where the volleyball team practices. It's an incredibly lucky set up, and he's
bragged about it almost constantly to the rest of his team.
He wants to brag again as his apartment comes into view – the size of it, the
warm, romantic glow of the balconies all lit up, welcoming and impressive at
once. He missed his apartment, he realizes. He's only lived here a few months,
but he's become attached. He missed his balcony, his bed, his tiny kitchen,
even the stray cats in the alley that scramble angrily away from any human
contact.
"How can your parents afford this place?" Iwaizumi asks, once they make it
inside, looking around the lobby.
"The university has a deal with the building."
There's more to it than that, and Oikawa would like to go on about how his
father was able to get a discount on the lease because he knew the landlord's
husband. He even got them to drop the key exchange and maintenance fee, and
there's free internet, and a pool on the roof, and a spa on the floor below
that, but anger keeps him silent. Silence is making Iwaizumi uncomfortable,
which pleases Oikawa.
His apartment is on the seventh floor, and Oikawa takes his time at his door
once they get there, humming as he slowly sorts through his keyring. Iwaizumi's
impatience has finally started to overtake his discomfort by the time he gets
the door open.
"Tooru," Iwaizumi says, reaching behind him to close the door, just a little
harder than necessary. "I'm – "
"Apologize again," Oikawa says, turning on the lights, toeing off his shoes.
His tone is pleasant, but it's clearly a dare. He'll cut Iwaizumi to pieces if
he apologizes, yet again. What does Iwaizumi think apologies will fix?
Certainly nothing so far. Nothing useful. He wants to say that to him, and
worse. The words are hot on his tongue, and Iwaizumi is waiting – now's the
time to do it, to say the worst of it, but – he finds himself freezing up,
unsure of how to start.
"Your blocks are sloppy," Iwaizumi says, breaking the silence. "And you're
disrespectful to your mother."
Oikawa chokes in surprise, almost dropping his keys, looking over his shoulder.
Iwaizumi didn't want to say that – he isn't happy about it, eyes tired as he
meets Oikawa's surprised stare. Iwaizumi doesn't want to fight, but he can tell
it's what Oikawa wants, and like any good friend, he's obliging.
Oikawa laughs. "Who are you to call me – "
"The alpha who's been picking up your shit for the past 15 years."
"The alpha I've been dragging around by the balls the past 15 years!" Oikawa
snaps back. This is good. He's not ready for nice words, he wants something
ugly and cruel. He's broiling with unanswered, vengeful fury, and has been for
days. Where could he direct it? The alphas who deserve it are long gone.
Kageyama, the only company he's had since this started, did nothing wrong.
Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi is here, finally, and is the perfect target. Oikawa sneers,
yanking off his jacket roughly. "Pathetic, just how desperate are you?"
Alphas have said this to Iwaizumi in the past, laughed that Iwaizumi talks a
big game, but Oikawa obviously carries Iwaizumi's balls in his pocket. Iwaizumi
had dismissed it easily then, and is unimpressed with it now.
"Come on, Tooru."
"Your gym bag," Oikawa grinds out, hands clenching at his sides. "Smells like
rotting potatoes."
"And you still need your mother to do your laundry."
Oikawa bites the inside of his cheek, furious. He can do his own laundry now,
but saying so would just be proving Iwaizumi's point, that it was something
he'd only recently learned. He laughs, mockingly. "Is this really the Iwa-chan
who blew up my phone with apologies? Because you seem to be on an awfully high
horse."
"It's not exactly hard to take the moral high ground when compared to you."
"Well – " Oikawa opens his mouth to say something about the dinner, about what
Iwaizumi's selfishness and stupidity cost him – but that would make this more
serious than he would like, and could possibly make Iwaizumi fold in regret.
"You chew with your mouth open."
The fight continues, Oikawa pacing wildly, riding high on the crest of anger,
while Iwaizumi stands, arms crossed, weathering it. Half of what he says is
ridiculous, the other half hardly matters. It's having the chance to say it at
all, to shout hateful things until his chest heaves. It's so satisfying that it
doesn't even occur to Oikawa to wonder what will happen when the anger runs
out, until it finally does.
"You – your spikes would be nothing without me!"
"Your serves are so reckless they lose just as many points as they score."
"You – left me."
The anger in the room drops, completely. Neither of them expected that, the
words or the hurt in Oikawa's voice, and they stare at one another in surprise.
"You left me waiting," Oikawa keeps going, into the perfectly quiet silence.
"You knew – we both knew... but you… "
Disappointingly, this doesn't sound as wrathful and victorious as Oikawa
imagined it would. It sounds weak, hurt and confused. The question of a child.
Iwaizumi left him.
"You let me – squirm. For months..."
A fight would've been better than the look on Iwaizumi's face. He looks to the
ground, lips twisting into furious scowl.
"I… I didn't trust you. And I didn't trust myself. I was scared."
He waits, but Iwaizumi doesn't elaborate further, and Oikawa has to turn away,
feeling his face morph again, wonky and twisted in emotion. "Fuck you," he
laughs wetly.
Iwaizumi just nods, biting on his lip.
"L-look what happened! What they – " Oikawa can't say it. "Did."
"I know."
"You cuh – " Oikawa has to gasp for air, wiping at the tears on his face. "You
fucking coward."
Iwaizumi inhales sharply, closing his eyes tight as though bracing from a slap.
"Yeah."
"You made me – you really made me feel like shit. And I want to say if you
ignore me like that again, that I won't take it, that I'll leave, but." Oikawa
laughs a little, jerky with poorly suppressed emotion. "You could do it all
over again. You could even do it worse. You – you could do – whatever. You
could do whatever to me – and I'll just take it!"
"I never wanted – "
"Shut up!" Oikawa shouts, tears falling now. "I'm always going to come crawling
back! Alright?! I'll always take it! So fucking – don't fucking do this again!"
"Tooru," Iwaizumi's voice cracks. "I'm sorry."
Oikawa shakes his head, eyes shut tight as tears slide down his face. He
doesn't see Iwaizumi approach, if he did, he'd probably push him away, but as
it is, Iwaizumi already has him pulled close, arms strong and firm around him.
He tenses, then gives in with an angry, frustrated sob, hiding his face against
Iwaizumi's shoulder. "Fuck you."
~
"Iwaizumi-san?"
It's only his second month at Chou, and Iwaizumi already knows the nervous,
tentative voice of the beta who shares a dorm with Eto Yuto.
Eto is Chou University's single omega volleyball player. A pitch server. There
were originally two omegas on the roster, but the back up libero ended up
bonding with an alpha between terms, and dropping out.
"It's Eto," the beta says, of course. "He's gone again."
Iwaizumi sighs, hard, throwing his blanket off and rolling out of bed.
"Thanks," Iwaizumi says, and the beta nods, scurrying back to the shared omega/
beta dorms before he gets caught past curfew.
Iwaizumi pulls on his jeans, glaring as he does, glaring harder as he yanks on
his jacket.
He doesn't like clubs. Too much noise, too much alcohol, too many alphas, and
all of that adds up to too many fights.
His teammates love them, though. Iwaizumi is a strong player, but not a genius,
and he's back to being a first year. While jokes have already started about him
being a big brother of the first years, no one really relies on him. He's not
essential to the team, still trying to carve a spot for himself. He knows he
can find success at Chou, but it's something that will take a steady,
concentrated effort, he can't afford to slip, and he can't afford to ditch any
kind of team bonding. It means a lot of Friday and Saturday nights at clubs.
While Eto does his best to spend every night there.
Iwaizumi's lost track of how many times Eto's attempted to sneak out on a
school night with varying members of the team, and it's somehow become
Iwaizumi's default responsibility to drag him back to school.
It's frustrating, but Iwaizumi's always had a soft spot for omegas, and Eto has
an almost uncanny resemblance to Kunimi, which makes it difficult for Iwaizumi
to turn his back on him, and has the outrageously flirtatious temperament of
Oikawa at about fourteen years old, which makes it impossible. It's Eto's first
time away from home, ever. He came from an extremely strict, traditional
household – even asked the coach if he'd require an alpha chaperone around
campus – and Iwaizumi is still hoping this is something Eto will get out of his
system before he gets kicked off the team, losing his scholarship, and sending
him back to the small prefecture he came from.
He's cursing Eto under his breath as he walks to the nearest club, though, not
feeling especially generous or kind. The bouncer takes one look at Iwaizumi's
very dark expression and almost turns him away.
"I'm here to take a friend home," Iwaizumi says, trying his best to sound
civil, and the bouncer gives him a long look. He must eventually recognize
Iwaizumi, he comes here often enough anyway, and finally nods, letting him in.
Eto's not on the dance floor, and he's not at the bar. He's not in the back
with the smokers, and it's on his way back from there that Iwaizumi finally
spots the top of Eto's smooth head in one of the booths.
He's sitting with an alpha, and the alpha has his mouth – on Eto's neck.
"Fuck – " Iwaizumi hurries forward, grabs Eto's shirt to yank him back –
But it's too late.
The alpha struggles to stand, ready to take on Iwaizumi's challenge, but
Iwaizumi just stares at the mark spreading across Eto's neck. Small town omega,
bonded in the back of a dance club, his first month away from home. It's so
cliché it sounds like a joke, and Iwaizumi is furious with Eto for putting
himself in this position, furious about how obliviously Eto tells the rest of
the team, like this is something good, furious with the rest of the team's
badly suppressed amusement.
"It's the season, you know," one of his beta teammates says, shaking his head.
"When you learn which omegas are serious about graduating and which ones are
just trying to get an alpha that went to college."
"Yeah, I'm not biting any omega's neck until my last year here," says one of
the alphas, firmly. "It's a mess, they get so – needy."
"Try the other way around," says their beta libero. "Alphas get all freaked out
and possessive. It messes with their head, and then it messes with their
omega's head. But yeah. Definitely the smart thing to wait until after you
graduate."
"Ugh, it's gonna suck without Eto though," says another. "His drive serve is
killer…"
"Stop talking like he quit the team," Iwaizumi says.
Everyone in the locker room looks up in surprise, and Iwaizumi realizes he was
probably a little more forceful than necessary, but it's their own fault for
the bothersome conversation.
"Well. We'll see how long it lasts," says one of them, under his breath.
Iwaizumi is annoyed by the conversation, but it's not like they're questions he
hasn't asked himself back in high school, trying to come up with reasons why
the number of omegas in their classes drop, why devoted students are suddenly
barely concerned with graduation at all.
Not all omegas are the same, though. Iwaizumi knows it, and he knows Oikawa. He
doesn't know Eto, really, but he hopes…
But not even he's surprised, by the end of the third week bonded, when he finds
Eto packing up his locker.
"It's just hard," Eto says, packing away his still clean sneakers. "With all
these alphas around? Being close to all of you… it was hard before, but now
that I have a mate… and you're all so – smelly? Not to be rude."
Iwaizumi shakes his head, shrugging. He's heard an omega's already sensitive
senses can grow even stronger after bonding, some getting so attached to their
mates scent that other potent alphas can make them nauseous... but you hear a
lot of things about omegas.
"I still love volleyball," Eto says, fiddling with the strap of his gym bag.
"So I'll definitely be watching you play!"
"Sure," Iwaizumi says.
Eto nods shortly, obviously uncomfortable, and leaves.
It's a Friday, so of course the team is going out to a club again. Iwaizumi is
in no mood, but starts getting ready when he makes it to his dorm after
practice.
His phone goes off, and Iwaizumi's dormmate perks up.
Iwaizumi glares, waiting. He made the mistake of showing Oikawa's picture to
his dormmate when she asked, and now the alpha is endlessly curious about every
text Iwaizumi gets, finding it very funny to ask if Oikawa has any omega
brothers or sisters.
"Is that your Oikawa?" she asks, suggestively.
"Probably," Iwaizumi says, but pockets it without checking.
He doesn't know what will happen when he bonds with Oikawa. If it will change
him, or Oikawa, or everything, or nothing at all.
But he knows what Oikawa wants – he knows how much Oikawa wants – how he wants
everything, and how it's within arm's reach.
His phone buzzes. Probably Oikawa again – probably some random, offhand thing,
but Iwaizumi knows it's actually a question, one he doesn't know the answer to,
yet.
~
"Andromeda," Oikawa says, pointing.
When they were younger, Oikawa would point out constellations, then get annoyed
when Iwaizumi was unable to repeat them back, accusing him of not paying
attention, so he's not surprised by Oikawa's already annoyed challenge. "What's
that one?"
"Mmm," Iwaizumi looks up. He can't even tell which one Oikawa's pointing
toward. "Little Dipper."
"God. Iwa-chan sucks," Oikawa sighs. "It's Capricornus. Capricorn."
Oikawa's apartment is smallish, but it has a decently sized deck, and the sight
makes Iwaizumi happy. It's exactly the sort of thing Oikawa should have, and
the futon pushed out there is even better. It's a nice mental image: Oikawa
sitting out here after his classes and practice, doing homework, taking breaks
to mess around on his phone, snacking, dozing, as close to the stars as he can
manage.
They sit in the late autumn air, a thin blanket around their shoulders, Oikawa
leaning heavily against Iwaizumi, looking up at the stars. He knows his own
feelings are being broadcast into Oikawa's head now, but Oikawa is just as much
of a mystery as he ever was. He's heard, with enough time and practice, that
alphas can start sensing their omega mate's feelings as well, but at the moment
the only thing that's changed is physical wants: touching, smelling, hearing,
all seem far more important that before, even the rise and fall of Oikawa's
chest while they were arguing was a suddenly profound and fascinating thing.
His mate.
He feels an adolescent excitement at Oikawa's familiar smell and weight,
though, and the soft curl of his hair brushing against Iwaizumi's cheek. This
is a valuable thing, his gut is saying. Keep this safe, you almost lost it,
don't fuck up again.
"Tobio-chan's blood type is AB," Oikawa says, a bit abruptly.
"Oh," Iwaizumi says, unable to follow that. "Okay."
"Typical, right?"
"If you believe any of that, I guess," Iwaizumi says. "What's it like? Having
both of us in there?"
"Distracting," Oikawa says. "He's asleep right now, though. Happy to be home."
Iwaizumi grunts, glad to hear it. "How – uh. Is he? In general?"
"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, slowly, pointing at one of the stars, apparently to
indicate Kageyama. "Was in the perfect spot to do what he wants with his life."
He drops his hand back into his lap with a bit of a dramatic arch – the
Kageyama star falling to the earth.
Iwaizumi wants to argue, but he knows it's just a childish, baseless want to
hear that everything is fine. That Kageyama is fine, and happy, and nothing bad
will touch him again.
"Iwa-chan shouldn't ask questions if he doesn't want to hear the answers,"
Oikawa sing-songs.
"He's not weak," Iwaizumi says.
"Mmhm. And he has lots of good friends now, too," Oikawa says agreeably, but
this is clearly just to make Iwaizumi feel better, as he starts playing with
Iwaizumi's hand. Iwaizumi looks down at his own thicker palm, held between
Oikawa's slender fingers, running his thumb along the lines there.
"Tooru," Iwaizumi says, looking up from their hands to face him, straight on.
"Hm?"
Iwaizumi feels like putting his hand on the side of Oikawa's neck, sliding into
his hair, was enough of a warning, but Oikawa continues to look patiently,
obliviously curious, not cottoning on until Iwaizumi is pressing his lips
against his, kissing him.
It takes Oikawa a moment to remember to breathe, and Iwazumi feels it in a hot
rush against his lips once he does, then Oikawa is shifting toward him, his
hand resting on Iwaizumi's wrist, the other gripping the center of his shirt,
flustered, but obviously wanting and he tilts his head to the side, immediately
deepening it.
They break the kiss and stare at one another, panting heavily, then Oikawa
licks his bottom lip and Iwaizumi surges forward again.
He's imagined doing this, countless scenarios, countless ways, countless
outcomes, and each fantasy is pale, bland, and forgettable in comparison to
reality, Iwaizumi's excitement picking up with the rate of his heart, Oikawa –
Oikawa – he moans again against Iwaizumi's mouth, his skin is warm beneath the
fabric of his shirt, riding up slightly, enough for Iwaizumi's fingers to rest
on the skin there, then greedily seek out more, more flesh and more of the kiss
–
"Fuck," Oikawa pants out, hot against Iwaizumi's mouth.
"Love you," Iwaizumi says. "I love you, Tooru."
"Fuck," Oikawa says again, voice pinched up. "I want – "
"What? What do you want?" Iwaizumi asks, the compulsive urge to give it to him,
anything he wants – everything he wants – a physical thing, literally making
his fingers flex.
"But it's too cold," Oikawa says, pouting, looking back up at the stars.
"You want to – out here?"
"Not tonight," he admits reluctantly. "One day, though."
"Yeah," Iwaizumi agrees. "You fucking deviant."
"But you love me," Oikawa reminds him, looking so smug about it, Iwaizumi
kisses him again, with a bit of teeth.
Iwaizumi has craved vague closeness with Oikawa for what feels like forever,
but he's known how to direct it, exactly what he wants to do with him, for
years, and he nearly shakes with anticipation as Oikawa stands up, takes him by
the hand, and leads him inside, to his bed.
He looks toward the bathroom as they pass – Iwaizumi's has never been
particular, but he's sure Oikawa would prefer to shower. He doesn't stop,
though.
It feels – fast, it feels off, but Oikawa is nothing but sure, utter calm. This
is Oikawa's energy as a captain, when he will not tolerate being questioned. He
pushes Iwaizumi back onto the bed, and Iwaizumi falls back willingly, the
blankets rich and heavy with Oikawa's tempting scent, distracting from any
concerns – it's another pleasing mental image, Oikawa curling up under the
blankets, sleeping, even the idea of his bare skin touching the sheets is
somehow erotic, but nothing compared to Oikawa's heat and weight as he follows,
straddling Iwaizumi's lap.
He makes a show of settling in, his thighs stretching wide as he does, and
Iwaizumi bites on his lip, his fingers sliding into Oikawa's pockets, between
the belt loops of his jeans. He wants them off.
"Does Iwa-chan want to touch me?"
Iwaizumi inhales sharply but says nothing, looking between Oikawa's eyes and
the promising little dance his fingers are doing on the buttons of his shirt.
"Does Iwa-chan want to fuck me?"
Iwaizumi bites his cheek to keep from digging his fingers any harder into
Oikawa's hips. A sound he doesn't really mean to make escapes him, a deep,
rumbling noise that makes Oikawa grin.
"I've thought about it," Oikawa says, almost absentmindedly as he undoes the
buttons, one at a time. "A lot."
Iwaizumi swallows. He hadn't really – thought about Oikawa thinking about it.
The idea sends heat straight to his crotch.
"Thought about how good it would feel... Thought about how big you are… "
Oikawa's clever hand is suddenly there, between Iwaizumi's legs, flexing around
his slowly thickening dick, and Iwaizumi nearly chokes.
"Fuck," Iwaizumi grits out between his teeth. "Are you trying to get me to
come?"
Oikawa stops, and gives a guilty little grin.
Iwaizumi feels an abrupt, terrified chill.
He reaches down to grip Oikawa's hand, stopping him short.
"You know – we don't have to do anything. You know that, right?"
"Of course," Oikawa says, immediately annoyed, yanking his hand free. The
smooth, detached seductiveness is suddenly embarrassingly transparent, and
Iwaizumi feels like a fool. "I'm not broken," Oikawa snaps, disgusted at the
feel of Iwaizumi's concern. "It wasn't even that bad."
"Tooru – "
"I want to see you come," Oikawa says, angrily. "Alright? Fair's fair, right?"
"What?"
"You saw me," he says. "So."
Iwaizumi shakes his head, lost. When would he have seen… ?
They stiffen at the same moment, Iwaizumi remembering the pictures on his
phone, and Oikawa realizing that Iwaizumi is not lying, isn't pretending, and
had no idea what he was talking about.
"I only saw at the first three pictures they sent," Iwaizumi says, quickly,
sliding his fingers between Oikawa's and holding his hand tightly, as though
scared he's about to vanish. "As soon as I realized what they were, I stopped.
I didn't look through them."
"The first three," Oikawa repeats, a little distantly.
Iwaizumi nods.
"Which ones were the first three?" he asks, voice very quiet.
"… The first one, you… looked upset," Iwaizumi says, slowly, ready to stop at
the first sign of horror or hurt in Oikawa's face, but Oikawa is only watching,
eyes almost hungry, more intense than Iwaizumi's ever seen. "You were hiding
your face, I – didn't know what was going on. The second one… you were crying,
they were forcing your head up. The third one was a second later, they were."
This time Iwaizumi pauses for himself, trying to hold back the rage. "They were
touching you."
Oikawa processes that, blinking slowly, then nods, eyes growing distant.
Iwaizumi has seen Oikawa at his absolute worst, red-faced, tear streaked,
gnashing teeth rage. But this is something new, something horrifying, something
Oikawa never, ever is – distant and quiet and – fragile like the thin,
translucent line of a spider's web, something even a breeze would hopelessly
destroy.
The hate and anger for the alphas that put this on Oikawa's face comes again,
makes it hard to even breathe for a moment, but Iwaizumi forces it down.
He knows he's rougher than he needs to be when he grips either side of Oikawa's
face, bringing them close together, forehead to forehead, he's just – he's
desperate to keep Oikawa here, look in his eyes and know he's there, with him,
not lose him to wherever he's going in his own head.
Oikawa blinks, then forces a tiny, broken smile on his face, grabbing
Iwaizumi's hand, gripping so hard his nails dig in.
"It was – bad," Oikawa says, quiet again, like he's admitting a secret. Like
he's admitting it to himself. "It was really bad."
He drops his head down, against Iwaizumi's chest. If he's crying, it's silent,
but either way, it's fine. It's fine, Oikawa can hide there as long as he
likes, Iwaizumi can hold him there, make sure nothing – no one – hurts him
again. It is hard to keep his attention focused on Oikawa and not on anger,
simply because that's the easier thing. It's easier to be angry than it is to
hurt, and he supposes that's why it took Oikawa so long to admit it was – bad.
Oikawa takes a shuddering breath, then presses harder into Iwaizumi's chest,
and he feels the tears.
"Fuck," Iwaizumi says, feeling useless. He presses his cheek against the top of
Oikawa's head and stares out the balcony. Holds him tighter, because it's all
he can do.
"I could've left," Oikawa says, turning his head to the side, wiping at his
face. "I wah-was, ah. I was about to leave, to find you."
"Why didn't you?"
Oikawa snickers, it sounds wet and sad. "I thought they were going to pick on
little Tobio-chan."
Iwaizumi closes his eyes tighter, then looks down, tilting Oikawa's face up.
Oikawa allows it, and he doesn't look like that pale, distant thing anymore.
There's pain on his face, but it's strong, and present, and it's a relief in
comparison.
Oikawa seems to know what he's thinking – of course he does – and smiles a
little, grabbing Iwaizumi's hand on the side of his face, turning it to give
his palm a biting little kiss.
"I'm not saying – " Iwaizumi regrets this as soon as it's out of his mouth, but
he can't think of any other way to end the sentence so he keeps going. "Any of
this is good, but. I'm impressed that you tried."
He didn't need to worry – Oikawa snorts in agreement. "Good. You should be."
Iwaizumi grins sadly. Oikawa is impressive. In a lot of ways. It's annoying to
admit, because Oikawa is always so keenly aware of it, but Iwaizumi feels
hopelessly proud of it now, close to awe.
"I wish it had a better payoff."
"If nothing had happened," Oikawa looks suddenly thoughtful. "If they hadn't
done anything, I just would've been annoyed with Tobio-chan for wasting my
night. And then... tried not to think about him again until he started applying
for colleges. Not much of a payoff, either."
It actually sounds a bit melancholy, which is surprising, but Iwaizumi is still
going to tread as carefully as possible on that minefield.
"I suppose."
There's about ten million ways this could've been even worse, Iwaizumi wants to
say. He's spent the last four days thinking about all of them, but it feels
unfair to tell Oikawa that. He's just… thankful that regardless of the hurdles,
and the mistakes, they ended up together, that Kageyama is whole, and sleeping
safely in his own bed in Miyagi.
It's all he would ever ask for.
~
"He's not in the captain's jersey."
"Naturally," Oikawa says. He's beaming, a wide, giddy smile on his face.
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. Rumors of Kageyama being called King of the Court had
started during the fall games. It's spring now, the last games the junior high
schoolers will have this season, and as future captain and vice captain of Aoba
Johsai, Oikawa and Iwaizumi made the trip to the Junior Athletics Meet, to see
their future kohais play.
Iwaizumi had assumed Kageyama would be the captain by now – liked the idea
quite a bit, the second omega to play as a regular on Kitagawa Daiichi and the
second omega captain, following the trail Oikawa blazed – and the king rumor
seemed to cement that. It had made Oikawa truly unbearable the past few weeks,
grouchy and pouting, whining non-stop about why he never got a cool nickname.
Of course he's all confidence now, fingers tapping happily on the banister as
Kitagawa Daiichi plays. "Who is captain? Who is that, Hashikami-kun?"
"He's a steady player," Iwaizumi says.
"Which is a nice way of saying forgettable," Oikawa says. "Mmm, no way captain
Hashikami has Tobio-chan as his vice captain. It has to be... Oritsume… " his
voice trails off in thought.
They're both wondering the same thing. Why king? What makes Kageyama king?
Kageyama tosses, quick – surprisingly quick, and Kindaichi can't match it. He
must be panicking. Iwaizumi's seen Kageyama mess up in games and practices,
internalizing it furiously before apologizing, and this is what he's expecting.
Neither he or Oikawa are prepared for the outburst when Kageyama turns on
Kindaichi, angrily. Iwaizumi's not sure what Kageyama is yelling, but he hears
try and faster, and sees his face twisted unrecognizably in disgust.
"He's blaming that toss on Kindaichi?" Oikawa says, incredulous. His fingers
have stopped their happy little tapping, limp in surprise.
Iwaizumi says nothing, glancing over at the coach, waiting for a time out,
waiting for a player swap… But no. He must be used to scenes like this, because
Coach Yoshino just watches, arms crossed, waiting it out. Captain Hashikami,
too, does nothing. They start playing again, and this time Iwaizumi watches the
expressions on Kindaichi and Kunimi's faces. The three of them were friends,
Iwaizumi's fairly sure, drifting close together whenever they had the chance.
There's anger, now, in their faces. Frustration and stress. Not concern,
because apparently, this is normal behavior.
"I knew it was an act," Oikawa says. "That whole innocent, 'teach me, senpai!'
thing."
Iwaizumi looks over. That seems unlikely to him, but truly, Oikawa has always
been good at reading people. Did he really see this…? "Really?"
"Well," Oikawa says, and shrugs a shoulder.
That's a no, then. Iwaizumi goes back to the game. Chidoriyama is closing the
gap, getting closer. But Kitagawa Daiichi is still ahead, the win is still
comfortably in their grasp. The rally is coming to an end – the ball reaching
the setter, Kageyama tosses –
They watch in silence as Kindaichi takes pointed, deliberate a step back.
This is obviously something the team has discussed, because none of them seem
surprised. The rest of the wing spikers follow suit, and the ball falls to the
floor.
Kageyama stares over his shoulder, confused, then finally turns around. Takes
stock of the situation.
Kitagawa Daiichi is the favorite to win the meet. It's the first time in years,
and Iwaizumi had been dreading this, the brat Oikawa would turn into if
Kageyama won where he had lost.
Kageyama stares in open shock at his glaring, rebelling team, and it doesn't
look like that's something he'll have to worry about. Oikawa is clearly
thinking the same, smile back on his face.
"You know he's probably coming to Aoba Johsai," Iwaizumi says, wanting to wipe
it off. "All three of them."
"Naturally," Oikawa says again, still smiling. He steps away from the railing,
and thankfully leaves it at that, apparently not feeling the need to gloat.
Iwaizumi gives one more look at the game.
Kageyama has been benched – too little, too late – his shoulders hitched up,
hands on his knees. His body looks particularly young, arms long and thin, legs
coltish. Why isn't the coach talking to him? Iwaizumi glares at the man, who
keeps watching the game. Why aren't any of his teammates…? The manager, even?
There's a towel over his head, masking Kageyama's face. Iwaizumi would like to
imagine he knows the expression he's making, but maybe not. Maybe it's too
intimidating, too unwelcoming to approach… king of the court.
In any case, Iwaizumi decides, he'll be ready for him at Aoba Johsai. They'll
fix this, he's sure. He can fix this.
But Kageyama doesn't go to Aoba Johsai, and he fixes it without any help from
Iwaizumi.
He'd be proud, if he had any right.
~
Oikawa is close to a lot of people, but Iwaizumi knows he wouldn't have let
himself go like that or be that vulnerable with anyone else – not Matsukawa, or
Takahiro, or even his sisters. Iwaizumi and Oikawa have spent years learning
each other, working together, fighting and making up, seeing each other at
their best and worst, to get to the point where he could.
Does Kageyama have anyone like that? Karasuno seems like an open group, but
this is a pretty delicate thing, and Kageyama is a pretty private person. All
the alphas he's met from Karasuno seem too explosive. There's that setter,
Sugawara, but are they actually close enough… ? His mother, maybe.
But these are pointless questions to ask, because, as Iwaizumi decided years
ago, he's not close enough with Kageyama to say, and maybe he never really knew
him at all.
He can't forget that sound Kageyama made, though, that terrified whine at the
restaurant. A call for help that pierced through all Iwaizumi's higher thought,
tapping into his instincts like an exposed nerve. He can still feel the useless
rush of adrenaline from the noise. Did he cry out like that on the train? Was
it ignored? Iwaizumi swallows down the anger at the thought. He's safe now,
he's home now, he has a whole team of people who are probably far more
concerned that Iwaizumi is.
The shower switching off in the other room gets Iwaizumi's attention, and he
shakes off the thought, sitting upright from Oikawa's bed, waiting, watching
the door.
From his boldness earlier, Iwaizumi imagines, briefly, Oikawa stepping out of
the washroom already naked, skin wet and warm from the shower, and his face
heats –
But Oikawa comes out in wearing a pair of pajamas bottoms, his pale shoulders
and back bright pink from the heat of the shower. He looks up and grins
wickedly.
"What was Iwa-chan thinking about?" he teases. "You were so optimistic until I
opened the door."
Shit. Iwaizumi frowns darkly. "This is going to be troublesome."
"I thought I was already troublesome."
"You were," Iwaizumi says. "And now you're even more troublesome."
"Not too troublesome for you to lay on my bed," Oikawa says.
"Of course not," Iwaizumi says. Oikawa's approaching, and again, from earlier,
Iwaizumi is half expecting him to slide up onto his lap – but he only settles
sides down beside him. Oikawa starts picking at the bedspread almost
immediately, and his cheeks are flushing a bit.
Throughout his junior and high school career, Oikawa has had one boyfriend and
three girlfriends. All betas and omegas, and the first one had sent Iwaizumi
into an insecure, jealous spiral, until he realized what it was Oikawa wanted –
extra special presents to exchange on birthdays and holidays, walks during
festival activities, texts back and forth after every class, and someone to put
them at the center of dramatic gossip.
Iwaizumi wasn't interested in any of those things, wasn't for years, and never
felt the need to seek them out.
So, neither of them have had sex. As far as he knows, what happened on the
balcony was the first kiss for both of them.
Of course now that Oikawa's not rushing through it like some sort of kamakazi
mission he's nervous, and the sight of Oikawa carefully picking any piece of
lint off his duvet as the tips of his ears turn rose pink is adorable. It also
makes what happened earlier feel like a narrowly dodged bullet. If he'd let
Oikawa keep going – if they'd actually had sex while he was pretending, hurting
– the thought has Iwaizumi reaching out again, clasping Oikawa's picking hand
in his.
Oikawa looks down at their hands, then up at Iwaizumi's face.
"I might change my mind," Oikawa says suddenly, sternly.
"Well – I might, too," Iwaizumi says quickly. That's a lie. There's no way he's
going to change his mind.
Oikawa apparently knows it, and laughs, then nips at Iwaizumi's nose. "You're
adorable, Hajime."
That is something Iwaizumi hadn't even really thought about, at all, and he's
surprised at how pleasing it is to hear. Exciting, even. Hajime. Oikawa can
tell immediately, smiling again.
They kiss, and it's the same easy, addictive feeling from the balcony, real and
just slightly awkward, learning each other in this new way. It sets Iwaizumi at
ease, but he's still careful about it, hyper aware of his own building arousal
as he presses their bodies together – waiting, on edge, for any sign of
discomfort.
"Take off your clothes."
Iwaizumi blinks, and pulls back.
Oikawa is watching him with intent. He can't actually place what it is, it's
not the half-lidded, sexual stare he's seen in fiction. But there is interest
there, new interest, it's hypnotic enough that Iwaizumi would do just about
anything he asked.
He climbs off the bed, pulls off his shirt, and rests his hands under the waist
of his pants.
If he had simply done it, gotten it over with, it would've been nothing, but he
made the mistake of hesitating, and looking up at Oikawa as he did.
Oikawa is watching, a small, almost innocent smile on his face, like he's
waiting for a treat.
He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and Iwaizumi sighs and undoes his belt,
pulls down his jeans and underwear in one go.
Oikawa's smile dims, expression growing more serious, and the reaction is
enough to make Iwaizumi's stomach tighten in arousal, already thickening cock
growing just that harder.
He huffs out once, stepping back onto the bed, up onto his knees, and Oikawa
immediately reaches out for his dick, like greeting a new friend.
"Honestly," Oikawa says, slowly, eyes half lidded as he pets with both hands
greedily, curiously. "I've thought about topping a lot."
Iwaizumi blinks in surprise, mentally flailing as he tries to switch gears –
some alphas refuse to bottom on principal, but Iwaizumi can honestly say
there's nothing he wouldn't be willing to try as long as it involved Oikawa,
and after everything… it might be exactly what he needs.
"But – I mean, I wasn't lying before," Oikawa says, still stroking him. "I've
spent a lot of time thinking about this."
"Tooru," Iwaizumi hisses out a warning, cock twitching at his tone.
"It's true," Oikawa says, sounding a bit annoyed. Possibly at himself. "You're
the only alpha, the only… anyone. That makes it make sense that I'm an omega."
Iwaizumi doesn't want to disagree, because he can certainly see why Oikawa is
saying it. Alphas that are too dumb or naive will assume they have the lead
while Oikawa easily pulls them along, but there's no doubt who has the reigns.
It's definitely alpha-esque, but, truly, there's no a part of Oikawa that's
suited to be an alpha. He's omegan perfection, practically sculpted, idealized,
his lashes and the tips of his fingers, the way he walks – everything.
But he does deserve the best. Iwaizumi is filled with the sort of ambitious,
victorious passion he usually feels on a volleyball court. He's earned this,
he's been preforming for Oikawa for years, and Oikawa has picked him. He is the
best. He's the one Oikawa will submit to, the only one, and he's not going to
fuck it up anymore.
"I want to do," Iwaizumi says, pushing Oikawa onto his back, firm but gentle.
"So much to you."
"List them," Oikawa says. "All of them. Everything."
"That – " Iwaizumi sputters. "Every – every thing I've ever thought about. It's
always you." It's no exaggeration. Everything – every sexual urge, every random
sexual thought, was immediately associated with Oikawa – even things like
experimenting with another alpha, maybe, was quickly more about sharing Oikawa
between them, or imagining what Oikawa would be like if he'd been born an
alpha. "I want to – kiss you after you come. Fuck, I want to make you come," he
says, closing his eyes tight before opening them again. "I want to fuck you so
good you're yelling my name."
Oikawa is grinning and trying to hide it.
"Keep going."
"God. You're so fucking spoiled," Iwaizumi says. Then, reluctantly, because
it's taken him years to admit it to himself and it's like pulling to teeth to
say it out loud, "I want to spoil you."
Oikawa's smile is gorgeous, and better than he could've imagined.
"O.K."
"Okay?"
"You have my permission," Oikawa says. "Spoil me."
Iwaizumi lifts his fist and bops it, gently, against Oikawa's forehead. Oikawa
grabs it, bringing it down to his mouth, where he begins to shamelessly lick
Iwaizumi's fingers, looking him dead in the eye as he does, until Iwaizumi
pulls his hand free, and leans down for another kiss, intense and wanting this
time.
"I want to spoil you, too," Oikawa pants out when he can, hitching his legs up,
around Iwaizumi's waist, opening the way to his most interesting bits, the
parts that are still covered by his own thin pajama pants. Iwaizumi presses
down into it, firmly, feeling the shape and heat of his crotch, his dick, and
the wetness behind that. He's getting wet. Iwaizumi has to brace himself for a
moment against this knowledge, gripping the sheets beneath his hand tightly.
"God, you're big," Oikawa says, as Iwaizumi thrusts down again, rutting against
him. "I thought I saw it before, during camp – I didn't think it was this big."
"Your fucking mouth, Tooru," Iwaizumi hisses out, still gripping the bedsheet.
"What about it?"
"Is troublesome," he says. If Oikawa keeps talking like this, saying things
like that, Iwaizumi is almost certainly going to come before they can do
anything.
As if reading his mind, Oikawa starts humming to himself, running his hands
along Iwaizumi's arms, scratching lightly on the back of his biceps, seeming
pleased. "You're filling out, you know. Did you notice?" he says,
conversationally. "Your shoulders, too. I bet you've already outgrown your
Seijoh jersey."
He's just going to have to shut up him, then. He moves his hand down Oikawa's
side, to the elastic top of his pants. They're obviously well worn and
comfortable, probably with enough stretch for him to yank it down his legs
without much effort.
He raises an eyebrow in question, sliding his hand beneath. Oikawa nods, and
he's right. Two pulls at the fabric and they're gone, dangling off the side of
the bed.
Oikawa swallows, nervous again, blush traveling down his chest, and Iwaizumi
quickly lies back on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, his hand
traveling down Oikawa's stomach, gripping this part of Oikawa he's never seen
before, not like this. It's a pleasing size, and Iwaizumi watches it grow
harder against his palm as he strokes it, starts rutting against Oikawa's hip
again once he starts leaking a bit at the tip, and Oikawa makes a soft, pleased
groan.
He keeps going, wanting to hear it again, thinking maybe this will be good for
tonight – this is all they'll do, and he'd be more than happy with it,
especially when Oikawa's breath hitches and he rolls his hips up, wanting.
"Hajime," he moans.
Iwaizumi nearly growls, working his hand faster, kissing Oikawa again, rougher
than before, loving the feel of Oikawa struggling to keep up, panting against
his mouth.
"Wa- wait – stop – "
Iwaizumi stops, immediately and waits, freezing all over.
"No, not – " Oikawa moans, rocking his hips up against into Iwaizumi's still
hand. "I just – we've been waiting a long time."
"Yeah."
"I don't want to come like this." He's almost pouting.
Iwaizumi almost releases Oikawa's dick completely, making his touch a light,
faint tease. "How do you want to come, Tooru?"
"I want Hajime," Oikawa says, slowly. "To fuck me."
Iwaizumi feels beneath, the wetness that's been building, that spreads easily
against his fingers, against Oikawa's hole, which twitches at the sensation at
the same time Oikawa bites his lip.
"Here?" he asks, the tip of his finger sliding in. "In this pretty hole?"
"Fuck," Oikawa laughs in surprise, chest bouncing, "Yeah. There. In there."
It's tight, flexing uncertainly as Iwaizumi presses his second finger against
it, but the slick eases the way, and he pushes in. Oikawa's hips do a little
squirming movement, biting on his lip as he adjusts to the feeling.
"It's different," he says.
Iwaizumi inhales sharply at the sudden mental image. "From yourself?"
"Mmmm – " Oikawa's face is scrunched up, his legs bending a bit to help brace
against the bed, help move his body in a more helpful way, up and then down
against Iwaizumi's fingers. "No, the – the one in the train. They did – this."
Iwaizumi freezes again, watching Oikawa's hips continue to move, testing out
the sensation.
"I thought – I don't know," Oikawa huffs a little. "It would feel like them
again. But it feels different. It's good. I'm glad."
Iwaizumi lets him go, watches him move, watches his body arch, and thinks that
he should add another finger, or – trying to keep stretching him, or jerk him
off, or something, but he's still frozen.
"Are you sure?" Iwaizumi finally asks. He wasn't expecting it to sound as shaky
as it does.
Oikawa stops, and that's when Iwaizumi notices he's worked up a sweat,
breathing a little harder. He sits up, pulling his ass out of reach before
scooting forward. He puts his hands on either side of Iwaizumi's face, bringing
him in close, forehead to forehead, and Iwaizumi recognizes the position, just
an hour or so ago.
"I am very," Oikawa says. "Very sure. Are you sure?"
Iwaizumi swallows, suddenly nervous, remembering how completely he fell for
Oikawa's act earlier. "Uh."
"Hajime," Oikawa says, apparently just to say it. He kisses along Iwaizumi's
jaw, down his neck. He sighs it again, "Hajime... I missed smelling you."
"I missed that, too," Iwaizumi says, clearing his throat.
"And I only want your fingers in my asshole," Oikawa says, expression utterly
serious, running his thumb along the apple of Iwaizumi's cheek. "I'll wait as
long as it takes for you to stick them up there again."
Iwaizumi blinks at him. He snorts despite himself, dropping his head onto
Oikawa's shoulder. "Just be honest with me, alright? If – it's weird. I need to
know."
Oikawa gives a short little salute. "Yes, sir."
This time when Oikawa lays back again, he shifts a bit, lifting one leg up over
onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, and it opens him up in a brand new, tantalizing way,
distracting somewhat from the awkward moment. Iwaizumi slides his fingers back
in, paying closer attention to Oikawa's reactions, the way he bites down on his
lip, the way the muscles on his stomach tense, as Iwaizumi's fingers churn at
Oikawa's insides, searching… wanting to see..
"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa gasps in surprise, toes curling, and Iwaizumi could almost
laugh, because he definitely did not plan to say that, and of course by now
it's just habit to call Iwaizumi that ridiculous nickname.
"Good?" Iwaizumi asks, pushing his fingers on that spot at a nice, easy pace,
and Oikawa's strong thighs, the one still over his shoulder, tense, then
release, tense, and release, in time with his fingers.
"Yeah, right there," Oikawa sighs. "I want – I want you to touch it with your
dick."
Iwaizumi actually whines at that, hips jerking forward, but he keeps
stretching, adding a third finger, rubbing that spot, until Oikawa's toes are
curling, until his slick hole is overworked and sensitive to the touch, and
Oikawa is squirming, kicking his heel into Iwaizumi's back.
"Now, now, come on – now, " he's chanting, frustrated and wanting.
Iwaizumi promised to spoil him, so pulls his fingers out, rubbing at the
surface of it as he moves back up, kissing at Oikawa's cheeks.
"Now?"
"Fuck you," Oikawa says, impatiently wrapping his other leg around his waist,
pulling him in closer.
"Okay, okay," Iwaizumi says, lining himself up, taking a moment to appreciate
the moment, the way Oikawa's hole looks, his own dick, fat and ready, just
outside of it. It's an unbelievable sight when he presses in, and it stretches
for him, wide, and wet, and pink, slick as hell, and Oikawa's shaky moan as he
sinks is almost enough to make him lightheaded.
"Oh my god," he gasps, a shudder traveling up his back at just how warm and
tight Oikawa is, better than – better than anything, he thinks, dazed, leaning
down for a sloppy, lewd kiss, filling Oikawa on both ends.
"Hajime," Oikawa whines when Iwaizumi lifts himself upright, adjusting his
position, pushing deeper inside. "You're fucking huge."
"You're going to kill me," Iwaizumi gasps, tilting his head back as he tries to
hold himself steady, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, gaining
centimeter by centimeter inside Oikawa, with the goal of filling him,
completely, with his cock.
"Ah – ah – ah – " Oikawa pants out, quietly, in time with each thrust in.
This sound sets Iwaizumi's pace, the speed of his thrusts, eventually
encouraging it faster, and faster, until Oikawa is not just panting but crying
out, nonsense and attempts at Iwaizumi's name – "Aah- Ah! Iwa-ch – fuc –
please, g- god – Haj- Hajime – "
"Good?"
"S'good!" Oikawa sobs out quickly, nodding.
"You look good, Tooru," Iwaizumi says, feeling oddly calm as he says it,
watching the pink on Oikawa's face and neck, the glassy slits of his eyes. "You
sound good, too – god, you're really good at this."
Oikawa just nods along, probably not listening, and Iwaizumi listens to what
his body is clearly asking for: Fucking him harder, lifting his hips, grinding
his dick in, listening to the way the pleasure of it, of Iwaizumi fucking him,
is enough to make Oikawa wail.
"Y-you were made for this."
"Yeah," Oikawa agrees, moaning. "For you, yes. Ha- Hajime – "
"What?"
"Are- are you gonna knot?" he asks this innocently, apparently. If he hadn't,
Iwaizumi probably would've. But he's stunned by the question, the idea, Oikawa
saying the lewdest thing he's said all night – and he becomes a thing of wild,
driven movement, thrusting into Oikawa harder than ever, holding him against
the bed as he does, hips snapping when he comes like he's proving a point,
unloading deep, deep inside of Oikawa, hips continuing to grind in the
aftermath.
"Fuck," he gasps as he comes back to reality, trying to orient himself –
Oikawa's cries ringing in his ears, and he's relieved to see Oikawa milking his
own dick, Iwaizumi's loss of control having at least done enough to get him
off.
"Ssshi – shit," Oikawa suddenly gasps, arching against the bed and clinging to
Iwaizumi's shoulders with both hands. He sounds genuinely distressed, eyes wide
in what looks like fear.
Iwaizumi stops breathing, freezing over, waiting to hear – that was too much,
it was too rough, it broke something –
Oikawa's gasping for air, still, focusing hard on the ceiling. "Tobio."
"What?"
"He – he's awake," Oikawa says.
"So? What does that mean?"
"Fuck," Oikawa says, reaching for his pile of clothes, grabbing his phone from
his jean pocket.
A second later he's up, walking over to the bathroom, and Iwaizumi drops to the
bed, embarrassed at his performance, but it's distant. Right now he just wants
to be close, to kiss lazily and pet down Oikawa's body. It's a nearly physical
ache. He wants to hold Oikawa, wants to smell him as he is now, properly
fucked, wants to touch his body and the undeniable evidence of what they just
did.
This urgent need is probably the main reason it takes so long for Iwaizumi to
remember – Kageyama can feel what Oikawa is feeling.
The embarrassment stops him short, and he looks at Oikawa for answers when he
comes back to bed, but he gives none.
"What's going on?" he asks.
"I'm not sure," Oikawa says.
"Is he – "
Oikawa raises an eyebrow, not rescuing Iwaizumi, waiting for him to finish the
question on his own. Is he embarrassed? Is he angry? The questions feel stupid,
but he honestly cannot begin to guess what Kageyama's reaction to this could
possibly be.
"Is he okay?" Iwaizumi finally asks.
"I don't know," he says. He doesn't seem to want to talk about it any more than
that, but slides easily back into bed, into Iwaizumi's arms, where he was
before, like he hadn't even left. They fit together easily. Perfectly. It
pleases a part of Iwaizumi deep, deep in his mind, a rumbling sort of instinct
that doesn't even have words. Mate, here, would be about it. It is pleased, and
Iwaizumi is exhausted.
He falls asleep like this, only to wake up a few hours later to find Oikawa,
sitting up in bed. It's dark enough that all Iwaizumi can see is Oikawa's face,
looking down at the cellphone screen, expression unreadable.
***** Chapter Nine *****
Chapter Summary
     This was supposed to be longer!! but it was also supposed to be
     posted many days ago!! I don't actually feel that bad about it though
     because my car broke down on Monday and my bathroom fan started
     raining ants on Friday, SO i feel like I did pretty good.
     This chapter starts out with Kageyama and his mom, and then Kageyama
     and Karasuno, and then some Kageyama and Oikawa stuff.
Kageyama's heats are regular, and easy.
They last a week, and the worst of it is always the first day. He's never had
to stay home from school or practice or skip workouts or anything else, so even
though he's unused to the intensity sloshing around his gut when he rolls out
of bed, it doesn't occur to him to do anything about it. He shakes it off, and
stretches for his regular jog in the familiar morning light of his bedroom.
It's only when he gets to his front door and looks out into the dark, quiet
street that he remembers this isn't his usual heat.
His hand clenches around the door knob, and he frowns stubbornly.
He's not stuck in a room anymore. He's not tethered to Oikawa.
He can jog.
He pushes forward, down the steps of his home, to the street.
The lazy days stuck in a hospital are there in the muscles of his calves and
thighs, and the ache as they wake back up is satisfying, a burn he's missed.
He's vicious as he starts chasing it, pushing harder with each complaint from
his groggy and confused legs.
When it's time to make the choice between a straight, easy jog down a flat
street, Kageyama turns left instead, up a viciously tall hill.
At this incline it doesn't take long before he's breathing hard, huffing, and
he pushes harder, faster, ruthless.
Usually, when he jogs, he thinks about past games, and how they could've been
improved. Sometimes arguments, or something that annoyed him, or something he
regrets.
Today, he thinks about bonds.
He thinks about severing bonds.
It's not easy, but the concept is simple. Either mate can do it, they don't
even have to talk about it. Kageyama's mother and father did, though, and his
mother bought what they used at a pharmacy down the street: a flare stick. On
the package it says for lighting bonfires and cigars or flagging down cars, but
everyone knows how they're actually used.
For an alpha it only hurts as much as the deep burn as the mark is scorched
off, but like basically everything, it's harder for omegas. People compare it
to cutting off a leg or an arm, or removing an organ. Something that bumps,
steady and constant, through the body, altering it permanently. Kageyama didn't
understand it before, but he does now, because he feels it inside of him,
there. If something heavy was about to fall on his foot, he would jerk it to
safety instinctively, and if anything was to threaten his bond, he would cover
his mark, because it's a part of him. How he personally feels about it doesn't
matter, or even if it's causing him pain.
Kageyama runs faster, harder up the hill, his chest heaving. He can't keep this
speed up for long, his legs are already starting to shake, and he has so much
further he wants to run, but he can't calm down enough to slow down.
He remembers how it felt, last night.
Being. Alone. Left alone.
He knew better than to say it out loud, to anyone, ever, but Kageyama never
really understood why his father did what he did. But after last night…
He reaches the top of the hill, and stumbles, nearly falls. He has to stop,
leaning against a post as he gasps for air, his heart going rapid and frantic
in his chest.
After last night, it makes sense. Because he was connected to Oikawa. And then
he wasn't.
The connection to Oikawa is there – Oikawa is asleep and his presence is faint
in Kageyama's mind. Right now it isn't bad. It's only after feeling... what
Oikawa made him feel last night..
Kageyama shakes his head. If he had never felt that, then he wouldn't feel bad.
It's going to happen again, because Oikawa and Iwaizumi love each other, and
they want to be close together. Kageyama can't imagine another night of that. A
week. A month, and another month, and another month, over and over, every day,
until a year is over – his mind flooded with happiness and warmth and love that
doesn't belong to him, at all, and will be taken away as soon as Oikawa decides
to shut it off.
Kageyama's throat is painfully dry from gasping. He didn't bring a water
bottle, but there are fountains outside of stores, a few blocks away. He
glances up.
The pharmacy is a few blocks away, too.
He remembers, when he was younger, after his father did what he did, glaring at
the flare sticks on the shelf, wishing they were locked away.
But they're not, and he could go get one.
He waits until his heart has calmed to a slower rate, then starts jogging
again.
The pharmacy is quiet and empty when Kageyama gets there. There's a cashier
reading a newspaper behind the counter, and they give a bored, barely awake
Morning! when the doors chime.
The flare sticks are toward the back, with the condoms and pregnancy tests and
other embarrassing things. Kageyama walks toward it all slowly, but seeing the
overwhelming rows of the whole area is all it takes for him to lose his nerve.
He mills around the back of the store trying to regain his courage, sweating,
grabbing a bottle of water to make his presence a little less ridiculous. After
a handful of minutes, the cashier starts growing suspicious, Kageyama can see
them looking over the edge of the paper, peering around the shelves to see if
Kageyama is shoplifting.
Kageyama holds his breath, stomps over to the shameful shelf, grabs the first
flare stick he sees, and up to the front of the store.
The cashier's eyebrows fly up on their forehead when Kageyama slams the water
and the stick on the counter.
"Find what you were looking for?" They ask, picking the flare stick up, looking
at Kageyama a vaguely amused expression.
"Yes."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen," Kageyama says.
"Okay," the cashier doesn't believe this, laughing, setting the stick down.
"They give you that?"
"What?"
"Your mate. They give you that black eye?"
Kageyama frowns, tucking his chin toward his chest.
"Seriously, kid. That bond mark is still fresh. Everyone has bad days. Give it
some time," they say. Kageyama grimaces, physically repelled at the idea of
listening to a lecture from this stranger. He wants to just leave, but his
hands twitch – he's not going anywhere without the stick. "There were times I
regretted my bond, too," the cashier says, ringing up the water bottle. "But I
stuck with it, and – "
It's impulsive, it's something he wouldn't have done on any other day, but in
the moment, he literally can't come up with any other option.
Kageyama grabs the stick and runs.
He keeps running, fear and panic pushing him faster that he has all morning,
and by the time he realizes he's not being followed, he's almost to his own
neighborhood.
Slowing to a walk, Kageyama stares at the flare stick in his hand.
Would it be cruel… ?
No. Oikawa has Iwaizumi. He'll be fine. And maybe it will be hard for Kageyama,
but he knows what happened last night was worse. It was the worst thing he'd
felt since this started, even puking over the side the hospital bed was better,
because at least then he was too confused to know what was going on.
He flinches, distracted as he feels sweat sliding down his thigh. The sprint
out of the store must have been harder on him than he expected.
He reaches down to wipe it away absentmindedly, and is horrified to realize it
– isn't – sweat.
Pooling in his shorts, spreading between his thighs, is slick. Wet, disgusting
slick, wet enough to make the fabric of his shorts sticky as it oozes through.
Kageyama chokes on a disgusted gasp, wanting to wipe it off on his shirt, then
instinctively not wanting it on his shirt. Blind panic re-energizes him. He
barrels home at full speed, tosses the flare stick on his desk, yanking off his
clothes, before getting distracted by the steady blue light on his phone.
There's a new text.
Standing naked in his bedroom, Kageyama looks down at the message, sent a few
hours ago.
Oikawa:
call me when you wake up
No, is Kageyama's instinctive answer. No way. Separate from everything else,
and feeling especially strong just now, is the embarrassment. How Oikawa's
feelings – made him react, and how Oikawa had to've felt it. He doesn't even
want to think about talking to Oikawa right now. He tosses his phone back onto
the bed, and hurries to washroom.
The slick keeps coming, even under the spray of the shower, more than he's ever
had before. Disgusting, he winces. Finally clean again, he grabs his usual
protection, three of them, and uses them all at once, hoping it will be enough.
The thickness between his legs is uncomfortable and makes him feel pathetic as
he lays down in bed, curling in on himself.
The flare stick sits on his desk, across the room, still in the packaging.
He stares at it, suddenly unsure. Would it be cruel? The question comes again.
The same answer is there: Of course not. Oikawa has Iwaizumi. The answer isn't
satisfying this time. Maybe it's an excuse. Maybe he's just afraid.
Kageyama hugs his own middle tightly. He shifts backward, the way he did when
he was laying with Oikawa in the hospital, hunting out his warmth.
It isn't there.
Kageyama grits his teeth, angry at himself for looking.
He hugs a pillow instead, mashing his face down into it. He doesn't feel tired,
he feels like a piano with all the keys jammed down at once, screeching, awful,
and exhausting.
Karasuno's first bell rings in an hour, and he wanted to go, but after this
tiresome morning, it's a relief to just give up for a moment.
~
"Left!!"
Kageyama tosses left, Tanaka spikes.
It's a clean, solid hit, and it easily clears the net, because there are no
blockers on the other side.
The ball doesn't hit the ground.
Kageyama swallows, silently nervous about whatever prevented the ball from
touching down.
It's lurking on the other side of the net, whatever it is, more dangerous than
blockers could ever be. Kageyama can't see it, and doesn't want to, doesn't
want to know what it is or why it's there, he just wants it gone. He knows it's
bad, something very dangerous, and Kageyama can't let it touch him.
But he also knows as long as the net is there, he's safe. As long as he keeps
tossing to his team.
"Center!!" Hinata yells, and Kageyama sends the ball his way. The timing is
perfect, Hinata smashes the ball, and this time Kageyama watches as it
disappears into the blackness on the other side of the net, swallowed whole.
Silent.
The sight is unsettling, and Kageyama wants to step away, step back from the
net, from the darkness, but this is where the setter is supposed to stand. He's
safe, he reminds himself, as long as the net is there. As long as he can toss,
he's sure that his spikers will hit hard enough to push the threatening
darkness back. He can trust his team, they're strong, they won't give up, as
long as he keeps tossing, they'll keep hitting.
"Tanaka!" Kageyama says, and tosses – but it's too fast. It flies past Tanaka's
outstretched hand, and then suddenly Tanaka's annoyed, frustrated face is
Kindaichi's.
He lands awkwardly, and glares at Kageyama.
Kageyama can't speak, staring in open mouthed shock at Kindaichi, who will
certainly leave, now, and Kageyama glances quickly between him and the other
side of the net, desperate – sorry, sorry, please – stop – don't go –
But he does, Kindaichi walks off the court, out of sight, and Kageyama can feel
that dangerous, unnamed thing grow stronger.
"Bring it to me!!"
Hinata. Relieved, Kageyama tosses toward the sound of Hinata's voice, but the
ball is not hit by a spiker's hand. He looks over his shoulder. Hinata is gone.
Kageyama is alone on the court, and the darkness is getting closer.
The net vanishes.
Kageyama's eyes go wide in fear, he quickly steps back, tries to escape, but
he's not nearly fast enough – the darkness rushes up on him, and he's grabbed,
cruelly, large hands slamming him to the ground, holding him there. No, no, he
knows this feeling – this ground isn't the smooth polish of a court, but the
filthy, textured aisle of a train. "No," but the hands yank at his hair, press
between his legs, slide under his clothes.
He stares up at nothing, helplessly, hopelessly stuck. He can't kick, he can't
fight, he can't move, humiliation and fear make him cry out, but there's no
noise, only a desperate mantra in his mind – stop, stop, stop – "Stop!" he
manages to shout.
The hands still and Kageyama goes cold with new, deeper fear – that was a
mistake, he shouldn't have done that – shouldn't have fought – he tries to
shield his face but can only manage to hitch up his shoulders, closing his eyes
tightly to brace himself for the hit –
~
Kageyama wakes abruptly, eyes snapping open.
He's shaking now, muscles stiff, pillow cold from sweat. He stares at his
blankets, his pillow, the familiar wall of his room. He doesn't process any of
it, his mind still reeling with fear.
It takes another moment for him to make sense of where he is, what's going on,
what happened. He finally catches his breath, and the sharp sob shakes his
chest is a surprise. He tries to ignore it, but another one comes, just as
violent.
Pushing his face back into the pillow, the sobs come faster, and Kageyama digs
his nails into his his arms out of pure frustration. His tears are mostly
silent, a few desperate gasps but even those are muffled into his bedding.
He doesn't know how long it takes for him to stop crying, but when it happens
he just lies in bed, staring forward at nothing, feeling spent, empty and
awful.
Suddenly, his phone jumps to life. It's a call, but Kageyama doesn't move. He
just watches it shake, until it stops.
He still feels exhausted, but doesn't fall asleep again, and doesn't really
want to, wary of his own mind's ability to attack him. After his final
tournament in junior high he had bad dreams, sort of like that, where his
tosses were the only thing keeping something bad away, and Kindaichi refused to
help. He always woke up before anything really bad happened, though.
A sob jerks through his body again, and he bites down on his hand to keep it
quiet. He's fine now. He's home now. It was just a stupid nightmare, and a
stupid memory.
"Tobio?"
A heavy thunk, then the front door slamming shut. Kageyama sits up.
"Mom?" he asks, voice shaking.
She's already up the stairs and knocking on his bedroom door – she stopped
entering his room freely after he had his first heat – before he even steps off
the bed.
"Are you in there? Tobio?"
Kageyama stumbles to his feet, opens the door and is immediately grabbed,
pulled into a tight hug.
Kageyama grew taller than his mother when he was twelve, and taller than his
sister just last year. He started wanting his own personal space sometime in-
between, and it's been a while since his mother has held him like this.
It's exactly as he remembers, though, it's strong and safe and makes him bite
his lip, closing his eyes tight as he hugs back, resting his head against hers.
"Sorry, I only just landed. What time did you get home? Did I wake you up?"
she's saying, her hand petting down the back of his head. "How are you? Let's
see – "
She steps back to get a look at his neck, expression growing a bit blank when
she sees his mark. Then she looks up at his face, and touches just below his
healing eye
"Tobio," she says. "Are you crying?"
Kageyama frowns and mutters, "Nightmare."
Her expression hardens, growing more angry than sad, now. "Well," she says,
firmly, yanking him into another hug. "You're home, at least."
It's only when she heads down to the kitchen and Kageyama starts to change,
that he realizes it's actually late afternoon. Oikawa is awake, feeling
steadily irritated, but nothing intense, and is easily ignored.
Kageyama gets dressed, then takes a moment to check his bed – the slick was
stopped, nothing was ruined, not the sheets or his shorts. Good. He'll just do
this from now on, then, use more than one pad. Problem solved. He won't even
have to tell his mother about this new embarrassing thing. This puts him in a
bit of a better mood as he joins his mother in the kitchen.
"I just have one more thing to do in the office," his mother is saying,
hurrying from the cabinet to the stove. "Then I have the next week off. I just
stopped by because – well, because. Obviously."
"I want to go to Karasuno," he says.
She looks at him from over her shoulder, eyebrow raised in disbelief. Then
closes her eyes, turning back to the fish on the pan. "Practice only. That's
all you're actually interested in, anyway."
Kageyama nods, quickly.
"And don't stay the entire time."
Kageyama nods again, "Yes."
"I'll be home at seven, I expect you to be here then, too. Ask one of them to
walk you home."
Kageyama glares. "I can walk by myself."
She looks over her shoulder, expression severe. Kageyama winces, knowing that
was pushing it. He should be grateful she's even considering letting him leave
on his own right now, that she let him leave the hospital at all. His mother
has always had strict rules for Kageyama – curfews and calls that his sister
was never bothered with. He's still not allowed in the southern districts after
eight at night, but he's been allowed to walk to and from school for years. If
all this makes her go back to her old rules – it'll be unfair. He didn't do
anything wrong.
"We talked about this before, Tobio," she finally says. "I know you can, but I
also know what alphas – " She shakes her head. "How are we having this
conversation after what just happened?"
Kageyama stops arguing, and eats when she puts a plate in front of him.
"I know how much your team means to you," she says. "And I want you to see them
– I'll be surprised if that Iwaizumi boy doesn't insist on walking you back."
Kageyama pauses, spoon half way in his mouth. "Iwaizumi?"
"Your vice captain? He was extremely – " his mother looks off to the side,
looking for a polite word. "Worked up about you at the hospital."
"About Oikawa-san," Kageyama corrects.
"His name didn't come up," she says, obviously annoyed at the memory. "But he
definitely threw his weight around when came to you." She waves her hand
dismissively, misreading Kageyama's expression. "But we were all worked up."
"Oh," Kageyama says, and starts cleaning his plate, shoveling food into his
mouth as quickly as possible. He remembers last night, the thoughts that tipped
him over the edge and left his skin tingling, and can tell his face is slowly
turning red.
"Anyway." His mother kisses the top of his head, then grabs some toast and an
energy drink, heading back to the door. "Be safe. I'll be back as soon as I
can, text when you get to Karasuno. And when you leave. I'll text you once I
leave the office, so – just. Be safe."
~
Nationals is less than a month away, but no one has to ask why Tsukishima
suddenly stopped showing up for practices on Wednesday.
"It's bad timing," Hinata says, pouting about it.
"When would've been better?" Kageyama asks. "A month ago during the interhigh
preliminaries? Or a month from now, during nationals?"
"Augh! Neither!!" Hinata says, frustrated. "But you better not get yours at
nationals."
Kageyama rolls his eyes. As if Hinata would be able to tell. But it is annoying
that Tsukishima is missing out on a full week of training, and he's probably
happy for the excuse to relax.
That's a mean thought, though, and even Kageyama knows it. Tsukishima has the
worst heats out of anyone he's ever met, and usually takes an entire week off
when they hit. He's especially irritable when they start, and brittle and
exhausted when they're over.
"He just wants space," Yamaguchi will apologetically say when Tsukishima makes
it back, standing between him and the rest of the team.
He's extra testy about alphas, too, which can make practice with a team of
seven of them a little difficult.
It's only been three days, and it's a Saturday, a voluntary practice, so no one
is expecting Tsukishima to walk through the doors of the gym. But, wearing
sweatpants instead of shorts, looking pale and sour faced, but there.
"Tsukishima!" Hinata says, and Kageyama grabs the back of his shirt before he
can go bounding up to Tsukishima, possibly sending him right back out the door
again. "Here to practice??"
Tsukishima gives such a withering glare that it makes Hinata wince a little,
taking a step back. "Obviously." he says, politely leaving out the idiot.
"Hey!!" Tanaka laughs when he catches sight of him, but it's not the teasing.
Tanaka and Nishinoya will sometimes joke about Yamaguchi and Kageyama about
their heats, but never Yachi or Tsukishima. "You're back early!"
Tsukishima mutters something about nationals, then starts to stretch. Suddenly,
he stops. Looks around the gym. Stiffly goes back to stretching. After Kageyama
takes a look around himself, he remembers – Yamaguchi was unable to come to
practice today, stuck at home with a visiting relative.
It takes Tsukishima longer than usual to finish warming up, because without
Yamaguchi there, each time the alphas in the gym shout or laugh or do anything
particularly loud, Tsukishima freezes up for a moment or two, then has to relax
again.
Kageyama watches out the corner of his eye, waiting for him to grow frustrated
enough to leave. But he doesn't, and eventually starts heading into the court.
He hesitates again, but Kageyama already knows there are no good options. No
Yamaguchi, and alphas are the majority in each cluster of teammates.
"Tsukishima."
Tsukishima glares at Kageyama as he approaches.
"There's. There's not enough room to practice receives in here," Kageyama
mutters, awkwardly. He's awful at lying. "We should go to the girl's gym."
Tsukishima glowers at him, unimpressed. "There's even more alphas in the girls
team, idiot."
Kageyama scowls, embarrassed for trying, ready to turn away.
Tsukishima gives a very put upon sigh. "Where did you and Shrimpy practice at
the start of the year? The park?"
"The baseball field."
"Fine," Tsukishima drags it out, heading for the door. "You coming?"
Grabbing a ball, Kageyama follows.
~
The sight of Karasuno cheers Kageyama up, because the way the building looks at
this particular time – the sun setting behind it, the classrooms mostly empty,
the students out of uniform and on their way to club activities – all signs
that it's finally time to step on a court.
He gets some looks as he passes, but isn't sure if it's because of his eye, or
his mark. It's not uncommon for third years to bond, but even then it's toward
the end of the school year. A second year before winter break is weird enough
that even Kageyama knows it.
"Hey – you!"
Kageyama stops, looking over. An alpha he doesn't recognize is staring. He's
taller than average. Probably a third year.
"Yeah?"
"You, uh. You're in the basketball club?" the alpha asks, awkwardly.
"No. Volleyball."
"Okay, right, yeah," the alpha says. Kageyama waits a bit, but the alpha
doesn't say anything else, so Kageyama nods, and keeps going. Weird. The alpha
keeps staring after him as he walks down the hallway, and Kageyama feels
shadows of the fear from his nightmare earlier resting on the back of his neck
– something dangerous, a dangerous thing that will to hurt him – He walks
faster.
"Kageyama?"
It's Tsukishima, standing ahead of him in the hall, gym bag over his shoulder.
Kageyama stops. They both stare at each other, surprised.
"You weren't in class today," Tsukishima says, turning to face him properly.
His expression is odd. It's not until he looks Kageyama up and down carefully
that he realizes it's concern. Kageyama is already growing annoyed with the
bruising on his face, the way it marks him as someone who was hurt. He bites
back a defensive and ungrateful I'm fine.
"Yeah," he says instead.
"Come on," Tsukishima says, jerking his head to the side as he turns around,
going in the opposite direction of the gym. It's said with such boredom and so
blandly, that Kageyama finds himself following without question, until they end
up at the omega stalls at the end of the school.
Tsukishima pulls out something wrapped in pastel plastic from his bag, and
Kageyama recoils, "What??"
The thing in his hand is a form of protection for omega in heat, a heavy duty
version Kageyama's never used before.
"You're in heat."
Kageyama immediately spins around, looking over his shoulder, checking his
pants, worried that this slick leaking through –
"You're fine," Tsukishima says. "But if you're going to leave the house during
a heat this heavy, you need something that will actually cover the scent."
Kageyama grimaces at the protection Tsukishima is still holding out. He feels
like Tsukishima is making fun of him, trying to start a fight, but –
Tsukishima's expression is blank, impassive.
Kageyama takes the package and looks it over. There are instructions, but to
his further embarrassment, they're not clear enough for him to figure out.
Tsukishima takes it back, opens it, making it more obvious before passing it
back. "Here."
"… Thanks." Kageyama knows his face is flaming red as he backs into the stall
for privacy.
"Your mom is an alpha?"
Kageyama grunts yes.
"Yamaguchi's the only omega in his family, too. He didn't know any of this
either," Tsukishima says, like the whole subject bores him, crumpling up the
wrapper. "Anyway. You're going to make a lot of idiots very happy when you show
up to practice."
It sounds like goodbye, so Kageyama is startled when he finds Tsukishima still
waiting outside the door, now joined by Yamaguchi.
"Kageyama!" Yamaguchi moves forward like he's going to hug him, then stops.
"You're coming to practice?"
Kageyama nods.
Yamaguchi nods back, lips pinched on something he wants to say, before it
bursts out anyway. "Good!"
Yamaguchi is suddenly hugging him, and Kageyama stiffens, choking in surprise.
Yamaguchi quickly backs off, apologizing.
What does he know? Kageyama wonders, his embarrassment rising. This reaction
doesn't make sense unless Yamaguchi knows everything, but Kageyama also knows,
more than anything, that Sugawara wouldn't have told anyone what happened. He
puts his trust in that.
"Thanks," he says, awkwardly.
"So, u-uhm," Yamaguchi says, trying to change the subject as they walk to the
gym. "How was Tsukuba?"
"It wasn't a sight-seeing trip," Tsukishima says.
"Right, yeah," Yamaguchi laughs, sheepishly. "Did – ah. Did you watch the whole
tournament in Osaka?"
"Yes," Kageyama says, cheering up immediately. He knows Yamaguchi is mostly
just trying to be polite, but Kageyama had forgotten about them, how much he
wanted to talk about some of the moves with Hinata. "There were a lot of strong
teams. Hopefully we'll play some of them at nationals."
Yamaguchi is quiet for a beat, then laughs. "You're a beast, Kageyama."
"Huh?"
"Not many people would spend their first day out of the hospital already making
plans for nationals," Tsukishima says, grabbing his sneakers before entering
the gym. Kageyama pauses a moment before walking through the doors, an excited,
eager tingle all the way down to his fingertips. He's missed this, and things
have been so awful at times the past few days, it felt like he'd never be
standing in this gym again. He inhales, breathing the familiar scents in -
Azumane smells rich, like syrup and butterscotch.
Kageyama's so used the scent lingering in Karasuno's gym that it's not until he
sees Azumane in regular, street clothes, that he remembers Azumane shouldn't be
there at all.
It's a good surprise, though, and he's happy to see him, and happy for the
distraction as he walks into the gym behind Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.
"He's a family friend," Azumane is saying. He's holding a case of what looks
like beer bottles. "They've been talking about it the last few years."
"They?" Nishinoya repeats, annoyed. "You got yourself some elderly alpha fiance
without even talking about it?!"
"I meant we! Me, too," Azumane says weakly.
"But it's for real? You're really getting married?" Hinata asks.
"Mmhm," Azumane says. "In three months."
Kageyama isn't totally surprised. Azumane's family is extremely traditional and
even though, out of everyone he's seen in Karasuno, Azumane is the most
physically suited for accomplishing something with volleyball in the future, he
struggles with the right mentality. That could be fixed, but Azumane also has
the least amount of interest in improving. Like Sugawara, it seems like
Azumane's loyalty was to his Karasuno teammates first, and the sport itself
second. It's a frustrating realization, but one Kageyama has been having about
talented teammates since junior high, and has learned to let go.
"But he's old!!!"
"Fifty-five isn't that – "
"Asahi-san is just gonna be a nursemaid," Nishinoya says, looking sour about
it, crossing his arms.
Instead of wilting, like Kageyama is expecting, Azumane actually frowns.
"Nishinoya."
Nishinoya looks angrier for a second, then shrugs and lets it go. "Sorry."
Kageyama glances between the two of them, but knows better than to ask.
~
"Is Azumane-san your omega?"
"What?!" Nishinoya yelps so loud that Kageyama actually takes a step back in
shock.
"That's a good question, King. He did quit when Nishinoya quit," Tsukishima
says. "And Nishinoya-senpai wouldn't play unless he joined again."
Kageyama can tell that Tsukishima is mocking Nishinoya, but his own question
had been genuine. He was obviously wrong, though, so he's not going to correct
anyone.
"That's – got nothing to do with anything!" Nishinoya says. "The omega I'll
bond with one day will be an omega that can stand tall! A graceful beauty, and
a powerful beacon –"
"But Asahi-san is strong," Hinata says. "And powerful!"
"Despite himself," Nishinoya says, sniffing it out, unimpressed. He won't
elaborate, and seems genuinely annoyed by the questions. Even Tsukishima, who
loves to rattle people, seems unnerved by the sight, so he stops, and they go
back to cleaning.
~
"I'm actually.. his third... omega."
"What?!"
"What is he doing up there?? Just collecting omegas?!"
"Ah, he has a lot of land. He farms. Oh," Azumane says, lifting up the case of
beer. "He brews, too, I brought some as a gift for Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei
– "
"And your good friend Tanaka."
Azumane smiles, but continues to keep it out of Tanaka's reach. "His omegas are
getting older, too, but they don't have any kids to take over, so – " Azumane
shrugs. "I'll probably be more of an apprentice than anything else."
"Oh!" Nishinoya says, suddenly sounding way happier about it. "Oh, that's good!
Yeah! Farm your land! It's gonna be yours, right? After they die?"
"Noya-san!!" Tanaka, of all people, says, smacking the back of his head.
"So what should we call you?" Kageyama asks.
"His family name is Nikko, but – Azumane is fine for now. Asahi, of course."
Kageyama nods.
There's a pause, and then a loud, collective shout.
"Kageyama!!!"
Kageyama recoils at the noise, all of them shouting questions at once –
"When did you get here?!"
"Oh wow, look at that shiner!"
"It's even worse than the picture – where's your eye patch?"
"How are you?!"
"You smell like the Grand King."
"Wonder why, idiot."
"Are you back in classes now?? I didn't see you all day!"
"Are you gonna practice with us?"
"Have you heard from the police yet??"
"Guys."
Ennoshita puts an arm out, blocking the manic group from him, which Kageyama is
grateful for. He answers the only question he can actually remember that
doesn't make him grimace.
"Yeah, I want to practice," he says.
Hinata jumps, eyes blazing. "Aah, yeah!! Let's go!"
"One second," Ennoshita says. "I actually wanted a chance to talk to Kageyama-
kun."
Kageyama tenses from his tone, but follows Ennoshita to the side of the court,
where he actually looks uncertain of what to say next. Kageyama's only seen him
like this a few times, and they've always been on the court itself. He's always
been certain of himself otherwise, and it's unnerving.
"Yeah?"
Ennoshita sighs. "I'm sorry."
"What?"
"Your safety was partly my responsibility as captain," he says. "I let you
down."
"It wasn't – "
"Please, Kageyama."
Kageyama scowls, but nods, deciding this has more to do with Ennoshita than
himself.
Ennoshita takes a breath and looks him in the eye. Here is the familiar
certainty. "I want you to know it's not going to happen again."
Kageyama is annoyed. He doesn't like other people apologizing for this. If it
happened again, Kageyama would fight again, and this time, he would win. He
wouldn't get hurt again. Ennoshita apologizing means he thinks Kageyama is too
weak to do it, it means he thinks Kageyama was never strong enough.
But Ennoshita is an upperclassman, and the captain, so he's respectful. "Okay."
Ukai arrives later than usual, and is surprised by Kageyama, then shakes his
head. "I should've guessed this would be the first place you'd turn up, eh?
Welcome back." Kageyama nods, happy with this, until he adds. "We'll talk after
practice."
They manage to talk Azumane into staying, and with him there, they have enough
experiened players for a proper scrimmage. Kageyama sets for his side, the
motions familiar and soothing, and it's satisfying to see the first years
impressed with the former ace's spikes.
By the time the game is over, Kageyama is starting to feel normal again.
"Oh, Kageyama-kun," Yachi gasps when gathering up the water bottles. "It's so
pretty…"
"Eh?"
"Your mark!" she says, and gets everyone's attention on him once again.
"Ooh, yeah. It's pretty nice," Tanaka says.
"I think that's called an egg shape," Nishinoya says. "It means your bond will
be long lasting and fertile."
"Fertile?" Hinata asks.
"They'll have lots of kids."
Both Kageyama and Hinata recoil so violently that Nishinoya laughs.
"Hey, what's it like? With a bond?"
"Yeah, can you tell when Oikawa is playing?" Hinata asks. "Is he playing right
now? Is he serving??"
"No!" Kageyama says.
"No to which one??"
"All of it!" Kageyama says. Oikawa's irritation and worry is still a murky sort
of fog in his mind, unpleasant but something he can ignore. He doesn't know
what could cause such a steadily miserable day, but he's sure it doesn't
involve playing volleyball.
"They were just questions, Bakayama!"
"They were dumb questions, dumb ass."
Some first years are making a game of gathering the balls, tossing them toward
the cart. Most of them miss, but with Azumane and Kageyama here it hasn't
really felt like a structured practice anyway, and no one is paying much
attention to their mess, or the fight between Kageyama and Hinata.
He's shouting Hinata's name, when a ball flies wild, heading toward the pile of
gym bags and jackets, knocking over Azumane's case of beer.
The bottles shatter.
~
Hand in his hair. Yanking his head upright, trapping him, fear throbbing
through him like a wound, crushing and intense.
Two alphas stand above him, taller and stronger, holding him in place, and the
sharp edges of a broken bottle centimeters from his face.
They're telling him to open his mouth, they want to stick something disgusting
inside him, something humiliating, and Kageyama's lips pinch together, shaking,
terrified to open. The bottle moves even closer, threatening to plunge into his
eye – no –
Suddenly, he can move, and he does, desperately, pushing the body close to him
away, shoving the one behind him back, and when someone tries to approach
again, he pushes again harder, keep away!
"Kageyama – "
"Tobio, it's okay – "
Arms loop around his from behind, and he's lifted from his feet. He's panting,
shaking, and as his vision clears he makes sense of the scene.
The team is standing around him, horrified, and on the ground, in the puddle of
spilled beer, Hinata is holding his own wrist, blood dripping down his arm from
a nasty cut on his palm. Kageyama obviously shoved Hinata back, into the broken
glass, but Hinata doesn't look angry, he still looks worried, and is scrambling
up again, trying to approach.
"Kageyama-kun," he says. "Kageyama – "
"S-sorry," Kageyama stutters out, but he can't say much more than that,
stumbling so badly when Azumane releases him that he immediately reaches out
again to steady him. There's tears on his face, again, that he wipes away
quickly.
"Is that blood?!"
They all turn – the vice principal is standing in the doorway, looking
scandalized. "Is that – alcohol?!!"
"It's nothing, sir!"
"It's just – "
"He fell!"
"I fell!" Hinata parrots, quickly.
"It won't do to lie, I saw the whole thing!!" the vice principal says. "I came
to welcome our nationally ranked setter back to school. But I see we may have
some issues that need to be addressed!"
What? Kageyama can't make sense of any of that, head spinning.
"Please come with me, Ennoshita. Ukai."
The rest of the team continues cleaning up for the day, subdued, while Yachi
takes Hinata to get his palm cleaned and wrapped. Kageyama is glad about this,
because at the moment, he feels too guilty and stupid to be around him.
That was like a nightmare, except he was fully awake. And like a nightmare, the
feelings were even more extreme than reality, and just remembering it makes his
eyes start to sting from fear alone.
Kageyama leans against the wall, slowly sliding down.
"How much – " Kageyama clears his throat. "How much does everyone know?"
Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are the only ones close enough to hear, and they
glance at once another.
"… No one knows anything," Tsukishima says.
"Tanaka and Hinata were really mad when they left," Yamaguchi says. "But when
they came back it was like – they were deflated. So. I donno, whenever you hear
about alphas attacking omegas, and you just. Hope it didn't happen, but you
think – maybe it did… "
Yamaguchi doesn't try to hug him again, but he kneels down, scooting closer,
and puts his hand on Kageyama's back. This is fine, because Tsukishima is
standing in front of them, blocking him from view, and Kageyama can also press
his face into his knees without anyone really noticing.
~
"Kageyama," Ukai says, poking his head into the gym. He waves for Kageyama to
join him outside, even though by now there's barely anyone left, a few first
years carrying the poles and mops back into storage.
Kageyama moves slowly, dreading whatever it is they discussed.
"So, how to put this," Ukai says, hands on his hips, frowning as Kageyama walks
down the steps. "Unfortunately, the vice principal decided to ban you from club
activities for the next two weeks."
"Wai – what?"
"I disagreed, but." Ukai shakes his head. "He's dead-set on this 'alpha-shy'
thing."
The term obviously means nothing to Ukai. Ukai's family is almost all alphas,
and he's only ever played with alphas and a few betas. When he was in school,
Karasuno hadn't even started admitting omegas as students yet. Out of all
Kageyama's coaches, Ukai has been the most clueless about omegas, but he's also
been the most unassuming.
"So I don't know about that," Ukai goes on. "But I think it's a good idea to
respect this like any other injury. You know? If you walked on a sprained ankle
too early, what would happen?"
"You- you'd make it worse," Kageyama mumbles.
"Exactly. And pushing yourself this early could make it worse too, I think,"
Ukai says.
"Pushing?" Kageyama asks. It's not pushing to play volleyball with his team.
It's what he wants to do. It'd be pushing if he was kept away from the court.
"Mm, trying to act like everything's okay," Ukai says. "There's a lot of
healing going on in here right now," Ukai says, tapping his own temple. "You
should let it happen."
"I can heal and practice at the same time!"
"I kind of figured you'd say that," Ukai says, with short laugh. "Like I said,
the vice principal's not changing his mind, but – the thing I wanted to discuss
with you after practice isn't all that different. Suspension is uncalled for,
of course. But this team is kind of a tornado. Not the best place for you right
now."
"You think I should stop playing?" Kageyama asks, piecing together what his
coach is saying, much slower, and feeling numb about it.
"No," Ukai says. "My grandpa. He has a court he teaches some students at.
You've been there, right?"
"Yes."
"If you're up for it, I'm thinking you could get some with him for next two
weeks, where it's less likely – you know. What just happened would happen,"
Ukai says. "Maybe bring up some of the other guys for a few days, too, if they
wanted. But frankly," he grins meanly. "The team could spend a while training
without your tosses spoiling them."
Kageyama nods, still feeling a little numb.
"Kageyama," Ukai says, when Kageyama starts to turn away. "This isn't a
punishment. Well. From me, it isn't. This is one of those make or break
moments. I'm gonna try to make sure it's not a break. I'm expecting great
things from you."
Make or break. Kageyama repeats the English phrase in his head, liking the
rhythm of it. He nods again, and starts heading to the gates, where Hinata is
already waiting.
He doesn't tell Hinata the news of his ban, still trying to swallow it down
himself. He's silent as they walk, and he can tell Hinata wants to ask about
what happened, but he doesn't, which is good. Kageyama can't talk about this
with Hinata.
He misses Oikawa.
This is such an odd thought it surprises even himself. But Oikawa was there.
Kageyama lost his composure when they were stuck together, but Oikawa had
understood why each time. Kageyama never had to explain himself. Oikawa
would've understood why he panicked like he did in the gym.
Oikawa is smart, and he's been – nice? He made Kageyama feel better when he
could, and he didn't make a big deal about it. He defended Kageyama's playing
the counselor, as well, and the memory makes him feel warmer, especially after
what just happened. He remembers the text on his phone, though, asking for
Kageyama to call. He wonders if it's too late now, if Oikawa would just be
short and annoyed with him for ignoring it until the afternoon…
"So," Hinata says. "Did you get over your fear of the Grand King?"
Kageyama grimaces as he remembers Oikawa's fond expression while holding his
hand…
"Not really."
"Wha? But you're bonded," Hinata says. "Hey, what do you think it'd be like to
play against him now?"
Kageyama pauses. He hadn't thought about that. But he remembers how it felt to
play that dots and lines game on the paper, how fun it had been, how they egged
each other on. "Good," he says. "Really good."
"We'll have to get into a good college to play against him though," Hinata
sighs.
Kageyama nods. Tsukuba University is a regular winner of the men's volleyball
championships. To even play against Oikawa, Kageyama will have to get accepted
into a college on equal footing. He's sure after making it to nationals that
he'll have offers, but in junior high, he had been sure about going Aoba
Johsai… But there's no point in trying to predict the future. "We'll have to
keep playing our best."
Hinata usually gets worked up and excited about statements like that, like a
dog hearing the word walk, so he's expecting something like, Yeah! or even a
shout. But Hinata is quiet, and when Kageyama looks over, he sees Hinata has
stopped walking. He's blinking, staring forward.
Kageyama follows his gaze, and nearly falls over his own feet in surprise.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Are there, outside of the gate of his house, leaning
against it, talking to each other. They haven't noticed Kageyama yet, and after
what happened in the gym - Kageyama swallows and feels his eyes start to sting.
He feels an overwhelming, desperate pull toward Oikawa, enough that his hands
start to shake slightly in his pockets. It's overwhelming to the point that he
almost thinks about running away.
Oikawa suddenly looks up, spotting them. He grins sweetly, waving.
"This is weird," Hinata says, quietly.
Kageyama starts walking forward, grateful for Hinata's familiar, steady
presence there with him. He had wanted to see Oikawa not a few minutes ago, but
he's suddenly scared of what is going to happen when he gets there. He feels
the need in his stomach starting to grow with each step he takes.
"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, sitting up straight when they get closer. "We need
to talk."
Kageyama clears his throat, forcing himself to calm back down, and nods.
He unlocks the gate, holding it open for both of them to pass by, stiffening a
little when Iwaizumi does. "Iwaizumi-san," he nods, and Iwaizumi nods back. He
takes a closer look, remembering what his mother said about him being – worked
up. But Iwaizumi looks like he usually does.
"Uhm," Hinata says, dithering between following them inside, and continuing on,
to his own home.
"Whichever," Kageyama says, still holding the gate open.
"Hrmm," Hinata says, gripping the handles on his bike, peering into the yard.
"I wanna see your house."
"That's what you're worried about?!"
"Well!" Hinata says, then hurries inside before Kageyama can change his mind.
He rolls his eyes and locks the gate behind them.
"Here," Oikawa says once they get inside the house, dropping a package into
Kageyama's hands. It's a gift, nicely wrapped, probably some milk cream
biscuits from the smell.
"Uh," Kageyama stares at it, lost. A formal – gift? A formal visit, so that
means he should give them something to eat in return, but there's nothing
really in the kitchen he could offer. It suddenly hits him that there are
guests in his home – not children, and he's not a child. Whenever this has
happened in the past, either his mother or sister welcomed them properly and
entertained them, but now it's just him. He's the actual host. "Uhm – "
"How about," Oikawa takes the gift from Kageyama, and gives it to Hinata
instead. "These two eat down here, and we talk upstairs?"
"Okay," Kageyama says, flustered again, looking over at Hinata and Iwaizumi.
"Uh – "
"We'll be comfortable down here, Kageyama," Iwaizumi says.
"Okay," Kageyama says, and starts following Oikawa up to his bedroom, then jogs
back down a few steps. "The bathroom is through there!"
"Thanks, Kageyama!!" Hinata says, around three biscuits already in his mouth.
Kageyama tsks at him in disgust, the hurries back up the stairs, where Oikawa
is waiting at the top. His bedroom is at the end of a short hallway, and Oikawa
looks around, curious, when they walk inside.
"Your room isn't cute."
Kageyama stares. He's not offended, it's not anything he ever wanted to be, but
this is all too surreal for him to really get a grip on. Oikawa, in his room,
looking over his shelves with lazy, impassive eyes.
"So," Oikawa sighs, running his hand through his hair. "You've had an awful
day, which is an accomplishment considering you were asleep for most of it."
Kageyama nods shortly, feeling some of that awful emotion bubbling up now, and
feels guilty for it. Oikawa has been a more or less polite guest in Kageyama's
mind. Last night was terrible, but at least Kageyama was in bed, alone. He's
not sure what Oikawa was doing when Kageyama had his nightmare, or during that
episode in the gym, or the aftermath. His jaw wobbles slightly as he remembers.
"Sorry," he mutters.
"No, that - " Oikawa shakes his head, "That's my fault. So, uh. I think it's
becoming obvious that the counselor from the hospital had a point. I was think
– "
Oikawa has frozen completely, staring down at Kageyama's desk. When he lifts up
his hand, he's holding the flare stick Kageyama grabbed this morning, and had
actually forgotten about. The reaction from Oikawa is like a cold wind of fear
and anger blasting over Kageyama's mind.
"What's this, Tobio-chan?"
Kageyama lips pinch together tight, and he glares, unable to answer. Oikawa
shakes his head, the initial reaction turning to concern, which makes Kageyama
glare harder.
"Why? You – you're the one who was so upset about – " Oikawa shakes his head
again. "Why?"
"Last night."
Oikawa winces hard, and is more flustered and awkward than Kageyama's ever seen
him, "That – I didn't mean to, I know, after what they did – "
"What?"
"They – what they did. On the train. They made you – come, and then last night.
I – made you – come?"
Kageyama can't react. He can't speak. He stares, feeling like Oikawa just
reached into his stomach and ripped out all the organs there. He feels his
breathing go wild in his chest - it feels like he's been pushed closer and
closer to the edge of cliff all day, and he feels something important inside
himself teeter dangerously.
"No?" Oikawa asks.
"No!" Kageyama shouts, loudly, trying to cover the sob.
Oikawa blinks, then throws his hands up. "Okay, so - you need to tell me what
you're thinking, because last night you freaked out, wouldn't answer any texts,
you've - you're - " Oikawa gestures at him. "I assumed it was because I
basically just – raped you."
"That – no!"
"Then what happened last night?? You felt it, right?"
"You love Iwaizumi-san!" Kageyama shouts. "I felt it, and how – he loves you,
too." His voice shakes, he can feel his face crumbling. Why did he want to be
around Oikawa? Why did he want to do this weak thing freely? He can't stop it,
he's crying, again, and maybe he'll always be this way now. Maybe he's as weak
as everyone has been trying to tell him. "And – and then – "
Oikawa takes a step forward, and Kageyama recoils violently, nearly hitting the
wall.
"I don't want to feel things that are just going to go away!" Kageyama
finishes, quickly, before Oikawa can say something. "So – " he gestures toward
the stick.
"Okay," Oikawa nods, slowly, thinking this over as he licks his lower lip.
Kageyama feels it like a tide coming in: once, weak, then a second, stronger
wave. Concern. Kageyama glares in furious confusion. It's different from
before. Last time it was – defensive? Scared, panicked. This is slower, but
warmer and sincere. He wipes at his face, annoyed with the tears. A third wave,
this one inescapable, submerging him completely in Oikawa'a presence, uncertain
at first, then growing stronger the more Kageyama allows it, the calmer he
grows. He doesn't realize how hard he's breathing, or the weight he was
carrying from the stares in the gym, the memories of the nightmare, the doors
to the gym being closed on him, until Oikawa's energy slowly eases it from him.
He takes a shuddering breath in and almost wishes Oikawa would reach for him
again.
"Where's your friend?" Oikawa asks, calmly, as though nothing out of the
ordinary was happening. "That – Sugawara-kun."
"College."
Oikawa nods. "Right," he says. "Well, I came out here because I don't think
this is going to work."
Kageyama nods.
"But I think we can come up with a better solution than this," he says,
waggling the flare stick between his fingers.
Like what? Kageyama thinks, hopeless, and now exhausted. There's no way Oikawa
would be willing to stay apart from Iwaizumi for a year. Kageyama can't get any
further away, and he can't block Oikawa's feelings, he's tried. They're already
in his mind, coloring all the edges of his thoughts.
"I think – being apart like this isn't going to work right now."
Kageyama is startled. "You want to get - closer?"
"Couldn't hurt to try."
Maybe something good will happen. The thought pokes its head up again, proving
Oikawa wrong, because this time it hurts more than ever – after last night,
Kageyama knows better. He shoves the embarrassing thing down. "It's going to
end in a year," Kageyama says. "And it'll be worse."
"That could happen," Oikawa agrees, shrugging. "And I can't make any promises.
I don't even really know you."
Kageyama shakes his head. They've known each other for years.
Oikawa rubs at his forehead, frustrated. "I didn't really know you in junior
high. You were just an annoying, overconfident kohai that was really focused on
volleyball. But there's more to you than that. I keep thinking I have you
figured out and," he drops the flare stick back onto the desk. "You surprise
me. I want to know – more."
"More?"
"I mean, this is selfish," Oikawa says, flustered. "I don't even know, exactly
– what I want with you. From you." He frowns at Kageyama. "You could be right,
in a year it could be way worse. But this clearly isn't working and. I don't
want to give up on this just yet."
Give up on this. Give up on this, Oikawa keeps talking, but Kageyama is
reeling. On this. They have a this?
"I can't make any promises," Oikawa says again, sharply.
If the affection that pulsed through the bond last night was a full, tight
embrace, this is more of a questioning, loose hand resting on his own. There,
if he wants to grip it.
Oikawa's face is turning a little pink.
Kageyama swallows, his heart doing that awkward sort of flop in his chest, and
that thought that he keeps trying to shove down pops back up, stronger.
Maybe... something good…
He grips it.
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