Chapter Text
The city takes different shapes under the last rays of the Sun; the sunset paints elegant shadows at the foot of the buildings and all around lingers an atmosphere of calm anticipation.
The kids come out tired from school, some salarymen take a break for a fast dinner and Tobio, in that picture of busy city life, is a trembling dot that goes unnoticed.
The temperatures are dropping, a slight wind blows on his face and he tightens a little in his school jacket, rubbing with warm hands his uncovered legs.
He curses to himself because he left the gym in a hurry; now he's unpresentable, he notices it while looking at his own reflection in the shops' windows: flocks of black hair are stuck on his forehead and his breath is still heavy, irregular for the nervousness.
It starts to get cold, yes, and the bag with his clothes and books is heavy on his shoulder and sometimes he has to stop, avoiding the glances of strangers, because a chill caress his sweaty skin.
His calves tremble while walking, but Tobio doesn't stop - he can't stop now - because the conbini where he must meet with Oikawa is near him, only a few steps to divide him from the entrance.
The neon sign of the mini market is reflected in a puddle just below – as a last hint of an annoying morning rain - and Tobio steps in with his sneakers, jumping fast shortly after because they're becoming soaked.
Then he curses to himself, because in front of the conbini he doesn't recognize any well known face; there's only one man, in a narrow corner, looking disinterested and his chapped lips release perfect circles of smoke, disappearing right after in the humid air of the city.
There's not even a sign of Oikawa there; the silence that greets Tobio in the small parking lot is distressing, uncomfortable, and he hates just a little more his ex-senpai because, if he had known about the latter's lateness, he'd be taken a shower, instead of running like a madman out of the Karasuno's gym.
It's too late to go back now and, while looking at his own shadow cast on the wet asphalt, he whispers a shy "what an idiot" – to himself, and maybe to Oikawa too – because Tobio can't resist like that, in the cold with only his uniform, even though his shoulders are protected with the team's black jacket.
Dense clouds cover the sky above his head and he hopes it won't rain soon – the day is bad just like this - and a part of him now would like to leave everything behind.
The anxiety doesn't help; Tobio still trembles, thinking about what they might say to each other and about what he should tell first.
But he's still undecided, he's undecided because the conversation with his friends, whilst proving to be useful, left open several issues and, in a strange way, it has also created new ones.
However, the aspect that he hates the most about all this story is knowing to be the only one to feel this way: slowly consumed by worry.
Oikawa will be the same as always, a smile to greet him and an aura of lightness to point out that, after what happened between them, there is no reason to be upset.
Yes, for Oikawa it's easy to forget, to pretend that nothing happened since the last time they've met; for Tobio, instead, it's normal to wonder what has occupied Oikawa's mind on those last quiet days.
Did Oikawa too, at night, naively think about their meeting? Or did he, as Tobio, reveal his insecurities to someone else?
These are questions to which he's not sure he wants to receive replies; it would be an illusion to imagine that Oikawa is living the same pain.
It's Kageyama, paradoxically, the more unlucky of them; he has a gift for all, even being in uncomfortable situations like this, and constantly he asks to himself how it was possible to feel so stupid feelings for an equally stupid person.
Oikawa can have what he wants, he has already got something from Tobio months ago when, for the first time, the younger agreed to have sex with him; and he had been naive, again, thinking that their relationship could develop into something beyond their rivalry.
All the initial balance even seemed to work, they avoided those topic that could make them discuss and it was interesting, at first for both, to discover sides of themselves never taken to account before.
Tobio was used so much to Oikawa's presence, he doesn't even remember how it all began; he doesn't know why and since when, but it was liberating to be away from home.
Oikawa helped him with his homework, rarely; sometimes they even remained in his living room, lying on the floor while commenting some stupid quiz on TV.
The problem between them started from there: they continued with all these little things, always accompanied by sex.
Maybe Kageyama was wrong; he had to stop as soon as they realized that there were many others, little things between them, but he underestimated everything because Oikawa has not changed, he remains the same.
And in the end Tobio felt into the trap of the grand King: a nice trap, but now tiring.
At that moment Tobio finally sees him arrive; it's a far blue-white stain in the dark of the night, an umbrella covers his head and only now Tobio realizes that it started raining.
The tips of his shoes has become wet, as well as his bag, and to protect himself from the sudden thunderstorm he becomes even smaller against the wall of the mini market, occupying the corner where just before the anonymous smoker looked at him.
The figure of Oikawa is now more defined and, while watching him, Tobio wonders if he's always been so cute - no, not the superfluous "cute" than others think, but a sincere beauty that only the lucky ones can see.
Oikawa's hair is damp, with no product to fix it in an unnatural position; he seems older and Tobio feels infinitely small, as soon as his careless glance rests upon him.
His eyes are red, and he returns to be the usual baby when he rubs them annoyed – as if he was too attacked by some sudden illness.
He mentions a little, no, tiny smile; it's a tired one, but it has the power to make Tobio blush anyway, because the younger recognises Oikawa's lips immediately and it's natural to remember their only and last kiss.
Tobio would like to greet him first, but his mouth remains sealed, as well as his rigid body under the latter curious gaze; it would be enough a simple "Hello" or a more casual "Hi", but no, Tobio remains silent and Oikawa notices his nervousness.
He had promised to himself to not show any weakness in front of him, but it's an impossible challenge - the only one he always manages to lose against him - because Oikawa is so good at understanding others, especially when it comes to his stubborn kōhai.
Tobio serves his shyness on a silver plate, it's so blatant that, for the first few moments, Oikawa approaches him and remains silent, contemplating his little kōhai's face as if he was a kind of contemporary art masterpiece.
Waiting, fear, pride – a triptych that unites them now, which brings them closer like they may never have been, a paradox, considering how in the silent they both resists against the same illness.
«Tobio-chan, don't tell me you started smoking.»
Oikawa pops his tongue against the palate and his eyes falls on the cigarette butts that are crushed to the ground, so close to Tobio's feet.
He's too young to be able to smoke – this is what Oikawa thinks as if he is actually interested in his kōhai's health; he shouldn't, but a part of him wonders whether if it's the smoke, now, that makes Tobio's eyes so desperate.
«No, I - no. A volleyball player shouldn't do that.»
His words looks like a reproach, as if he knew that Oikawa tried a cigarette once, years before; it was an experience of a moment, something that he left behind because yes, a serious athlete shouldn't smoke.
«As you wish. Can we go in? I have to buy some things.»
Tobio follows him in silence, the sliding doors open up as soon as they are in front of the entrance and, once inside, the warmth of the conbini heats their chilled bones and they finally relax, loosening their muscles from the previous tension.
They're alone, not a costumer or a clerk to receive them; a singable pop song echoes between the lanes and Oikawa moves with ease through the well ordered shelves, turning sometime to be sure that Tobio is right behind him.
He seems anxious, now that Tobio notices it, and it's a show difficult to interpret because Tobio never saw him like this, maybe only during some volleyball match - never in front of his always-mocked-kōhai.
It's a kind of anxiety that tickles Tobio's skin too, a shiver which shakes his body and really, if Oikawa is nervous it means that something need to happen among them today - something that Tobio begins to fear.
He knows, he must be the first to end it, he would like to hurt Oikawa as he did years before, maltreating him only because unsure of himself.
It would be a good revenge, his revenge, but Tobio just can't because he's not that kind of person.
If they have to end their affair it's because he can no longer hold the indifference and the illusion; concluding it would be a good choice for both, not only for himself.
«Tobio-chan, I thought about something.»
Tobio's thoughts are interrupted by the whispered words by Oikawa that, right now, has a small basket in his hands and inside has already placed some products that Tobio didn't see before; they are all crap that Oikawa usually doesn't eat: snacks, sweets and candies that Tobio rarely found at his house - the previous times.
«How strange.»
Tobio's reply is ironic, a murmur that makes Oikawa smile; it's not a convinced one, and his gaze tries to avoid Tobio's figure, focusing on the cosmetic products in front of him.
Neither of them speaks and for Tobio it's okay; he prefers the silence, rather than some of Oikawa's bullshit just to convince himself to be the best.
But Tobio doesn't care about being in constant competition with him, the latter will always be good at something: with girls, with feelings and with people in general.
No, Tobio doesn't care, because he knows that, at least in volleyball, he's fated to surpass him, but it's a topic they always avoid because he doesn't want to make Oikawa feel bad; he doesn't want to humiliate his ex-senpai, even if he has the power to do so.
Stupidly Tobio continues to admire him, even if he doesn't deserve it, considering how things are going between them.
«Let's end it here.»
Tobio's voice trembles, an undecided and dramatic murmur; those words are completely spontaneous, he spoke without thinking, and part of him regrets it already.
But he now has decided – continuing their pact would be only a silly idea, they don't want it any more, they don't want each other in that way, and to be honest, Kageyama was never really into sex; it was an experience now at its end, he believes so.
«Tobio, Tobio. Are you saying this because of the kiss, right?»
The question comes unexpected, it means that Oikawa has not forgotten; yes, he was conscious during those moments, it's a vivid memory that isn't faded from his head and, foolishly, Tobio begins to believe that the gesture has also influenced Oikawa, in some strange way.
It cannot have gone unnoticed -a damn kiss! - it wasn't the first for Oikawa, and certainly not the last of his life, but it was a kiss with Kageyama Tobio - the Prodigy, his shadow, his enemy.
It's a paradox that Tobio didn't forget, in fact, that segment of his recent past restarts every night, in his dreams; he wondered how it could be true - a so intimate act between two people who hate each other so much.
An action with consequences that even Tobio can't imagine, but in the sad silence of the conbini Oikawa's face seems surprised, irritated even.
«No.»
Tobio's skin is on fire, he knows he's just blushed because Oikawa's smiling at him, pleased to see how bad his kōhai is with lying.
And Tobio tries to convince himself: the kiss meant nothing, it was a mistake to forget, he wants to end the affair because he decided that his own feelings are stupid and that volleyball is more important.
Maybe he'll have a surgery – or maybe not? - but now it doesn't matter: Oikawa Tōru must disappear from his mind right now.
«Oikawa-san, you broke the rules.»
Tobio accuses him, it's easier to blame exclusively him; Oikawa's the oldest, his senpai – he should be the most responsible between the two and the pact was only about sex, nothing more.
He didn't respect Tobio's space, he exceeded a limit and yes , it's his fault, because Kageyama would never kissed Oikawa in such a context.
He imagined it, in a remote part of his head, but a kiss always remained an illusion for him, at least until Oikawa didn't decide to mess everything up.
They're on razor's edge, they have always been like that; but for Tobio, at the beginning, the situation between them was alright, he even accepted Oikawa's freedom with others – even if he was a little jealous about it.
They were nothing in the past and they remains nothing today; ashes to ashes, as the westerners would say in this case.
«God, don't call me like that now.»
Oikawa's hand trembles, resting a shampoo again on its shelf; he shakes and covers his face as if he has something to hide.
It seems embarrassment no, it's worse - shame, indecency for something he did or thought; Tobio doesn't understand his new attitude, but he doesn't change opinion, he can't now.
Tobio doesn't think Oikawa's feeling guilty, it's not repentance, what he reads in his senpai's eyes.
«With you it's always like this;» Oikawa murmurs while throwing different products in the basket; some of them fall to the ground, but it's Tobio to collect them, continuing to follow the other in silence «you always have to question everything I do.»
Tobio would like to disagree: many, many times he trusted Oikawa without complaint; he didn't question his attitudes for years, but the result is what he has now in front of him: a guy who can't make up his mind and lies to himself first.
«Because you always make mistakes, Oikawa-san.»
Oikawa rolls his eyes and sighs, refraining from revealing things he might regrets shortly after; he cannot agree with Tobio – it's a matter of pride - but for a couple of minutes he remains silent because he has no arguments for himself.
So, they roam, alone, across the departments of the mini market; passing between the various types of food, newspapers and manga, but no one utter a word.
Only their steps echoes around, Tobio faithfully follows the latter's path, but he waits for a slow reply.
Oikawa keeps him in a limbo that consumes him slowly, a suffering that he's hating and which, at the same time, doesn't understand.
Why doesn't Oikawa kick him out, if he hates him so much?
Tobio would be willing to leave, but he waits Oikawa's direct order; he accepted his meeting, an informed decision, but now behaves like a child and avoiding the problems won't make Tobio into thin air.
It's the reality; no more monsters in the dark, illusions and fantasies to make fun of him.
The guy who follows him is the true Kageyama Tobio and the expression which is painted on his face is impatiently asking Oikawa if, in the end, it's really worth risking everything for his stupid pride.
«Fuck off Tobio, you always did what you wanted and now don't preach to me.»
Kageyama grabs his hand and that minimal contact is enough to silence him; Oikawa turns, then, trying to analyze the confused expression that spoils the face usually impassive of the younger.
Anger, disappointment, boredom – Oikawa doesn't know with certainty what it is; he only sees their fingers touching and if Tobio knew, oh, if he only knew, he wouldn't tighten the right hand of his senpai so strongly.
«Why?»
«What?»
Tobio tightens more, and they feel both foolish, although there is no one there to observe them; it should be a little thing, two hands clenched together, but Tobio and Oikawa are not accustomed to everything that is natural between friends or lovers.
They are all small gestures that, eventually, Tobio doesn't forget and this time no, he won't accept another lie in response.
«Why did you do that, Oikawa-san?»
Oikawa sees Tobio well, his blue irides are no longer a confused dot in the darkness of his room and his "Oikawa-san" isn't an illusory whisper under his own blankets; Tobio's question is interesting, but it's difficult to find an answer.
And finding an explanation is unnecessary for Oikawa, because well, there is no real explanation; he could continue to escape from reality or, for once, lie for a good purpose.
He'd say that he kissed Tobio because he really wanted it; or maybe not, Oikawa can follow his rationality, knowing that nothing can work between them, even if they try.
«What answer would you like to receive?»
Kageyama is biting the inside of his cheek, then he licks his own lips - now so chapped for the nervousness; Oikawa watches him in a snooty way, impassible to anything Tobio will say later.
Don't care about anything - Tobio continues to repeat it to himself because he can do nothing else right now; Oikawa's insistence is incomprehensible, something that makes Tobio believe that maybe, maybe, a part of his senpai have lived in doubt too during the last few days.
«The truth, it's enough for me.»
Oikawa sighs, hiding the slight redness which now colours his cheeks; he still considers Tobio the same stupid kid who followed him as someone to idolize, but now - now Tobio looks like a young adult, so sure of who he is and what he wants.
And Tobio continues to stare at him, in a sweet silence, admiring a show that he had never witnessed before: Oikawa runs a hand through his own hair, looking vulnerable.
This is the real Oikawa Tōru - no more games or lies, no presumption or apparent courtesy to please others; it's Oikawa in his simplicity, with those grains of weakness that make his eyes more lively.
And Tobio just sighs, knowing that whatever the answer will be, it's useless to deny an indisputable truth: he's in love with Oikawa, maybe since the first time he saw him play volleyball, even before the stupid illness and the sex without feeling.
It's a sad and belated realization, it makes him feel distressed because his pride has denied it for so long, and yet there he is, stupid Tobio observes Oikawa as if his life depended on his senpai's next words.
Oikawa leaves the basket on the ground and walks back and forward between the shelves, a hamletic doubt is eating him and his thoughts collide with each other, in an invisible battle from which he won't come out victorious anyway.
Tobio has the option to reject him, if only Oikawa would confess his feelings; it's a kind of power that he wouldn't want to give to his dear kōhai, but a part of him knows how much he has already hurt the younger in the past and leaving Tobio behind now would mean to forget him forever.
Yes, get rid of Kageyama Tobio once and for all, forget Kageyama Tobio and relegate him to a simple reminder of his adolescence.
Oikawa will laugh about all this inconvenience when he'll be adult, or perhaps – he won't.
And now he's sure: he can't forget about Tobio and, maybe, he can give a try, for once, for him, for them.
A failure is better than regret.
«Tobio-chan.»
He turns to him, only now realizing that Tobio's wearing Karasuno's uniform and they seems to live again a continuous déjà-vu, whenever volleyball comes back to their mind.
He always recognizes in his eyes the same boy who followed him during middle school, and he asks to himself if there's still a part of Tobio who desirers to follows him like he did before.
And Oikawa knows he doesn't deserve it, he never said sorry or begged for forgiveness, but Tobio is still here with him, after all; and this is mean something.
«Tobio-chan, your nose is bleeding.»
The younger covers his face with his hand and on his skin there's a perfect, red line; then small drops fall on the floor, but Kageyama doesn't care, in fact, a finger stretches toward Oikawa's figure and he points the older with a surprised expression on his face.
«Oikawa-san.»
And in that moment Oikawa licks his own lips and finds a strange taste that pervades his palate, then he looks his own reflection on his smartphone and realizes that a thin red line is there, on his skin too.
Exactly like the girls of those photos he saw weeks ago, there's blood on his lips; it's the Hanahaki who warns him - not of an upcoming death - but it's a clue that now they can't avoid.
Kageyama yes, Kageyama Tobio has his same disease.
«Hey, move now, the floor is dirty.»
The dramatic moment is broken by the conbini's clerk voice, he turns out to be the smoker that Tobio has seen just before outside, and in a rude way he tells the two boys to get away from the spot, forcing them to sit on two stools next to the cash register.
«Ah, these Brats.»
* * *
Kageyama remains silent, now small on the tiny chair not far from the counter; from his position he can see the entrance of the shop and the confused silhouettes of the passers-by, some of them are running because they have no umbrella.
The weather outside is worsened, the sky sometimes lights up with the glow of a lightning bolt, preceded by howling thunders and the sound of the raindrops against the window.
It's a gloomy atmosphere that reflects well what they are now feeling; the silence is still there, between them, extended towards an infinite that the taciturn Tobio starts to fear.
But yet, Oikawa is still at his side, so close to feel his knee touching his; the chairs are small for both, but even more for Oikawa who, in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, tries everything to appear at ease.
Kageyama understands his behaviour because he notices how his gaze is wandering vacuous, pointing the white cream ceiling that he seems to like so much.
Yes, Kageyama understands it well, it's what Oikawa always does when he feels embarrassed; he flees to another dimension, something that Tobio cannot reach, a shell where Oikawa locks himself in because he doesn't want to disappoint the frivolous image he has of himself.
And the only thing that Tobio doesn't understand is why: it should be easy for Oikawa to break the silence between them, he's always easy-going and extrovert, but no, he doesn't speak.
Not a disappointed sigh nor a concerned murmur; it's clear that they're thinking the same thing - the Hanahaki disease -, but the sense of surprise and a touch of pride make them remain motionless, like timeless statues.
The air is filled with a melancholic ballad, and Tobio would really like to turn off the radio behind the counter because the slow notes of the song are depressing for the moment they are living.
It has to be him, the first to speak; he wouldn't want to, but Oikawa doesn't give signs of life and if it wasn't for his perplexity about it, he might believe he's been kidnapped by some extraterrestrial creature.
«Oikawa-san.»
Tobio mumbles against the tissue with which he's keeping pressure on his nose; his view is a bit blurred and he thinks he needs something sweet, but at the moment he's too lazy to move and he also feels guilty to have bothered the clerk before.
Anyway, he doesn't receive reply from the latter, only more silence and again an empty expression that he would rather like to see full of the usual smiles that Oikawa dedicates to others, even if by circumstance.
In this instant in Tobio's eyes Oikawa seems vulnerable; he wouldn't have never thought, but a part of him regrets his false politeness because he can't stand to see this weaker side of his senpai, although he should consider himself lucky to witness so much sincerity.
«How long?»
These are the first words that escape from Oikawa's pink lips, a lazy whisper that reaches casually Tobio's ears - now reddish for the embarrassment.
Tobio knows what Oikawa's asking, it's a simple and predictable question, yet he isn't sure about the answer.
On second thought, he's doubtful that his feelings were born together with the petals: maybe there was a precedent, since those middle school times, which helped him to understand some things about himself that, in other circumstances, he would have just ignored.
There weren't others that gave him emotions like Oikawa; his senpai was, for better or worse, the watershed between the Kitagawa Daiichi student and everything that happened next.
Since then, Tobio's changed his approach with volleyball and with his own sexuality too; for him it wasn't crucial to know what kind of person he liked, but it was Oikawa – unintentionally - to make him understand what his standards were.
It has always been Oikawa to establish a ideal example for Tobio, about volleyball and about romantic and sexual attraction too.
«It's not important.»
Tobio mutters in response, meeting the latter's gaze and it's more difficult than he thought to look him in the eyes, without any lies or pride.
It's more complex because they both feel exposed, without that stubbornness usually used to protect themselves.
They're unprotected, now, in front of a reality that intrigues them, but at the same time scares them; they've never imagined such a situation, and yet here they are, alone, looking at each other like they're discovering someone new.
«May I ask you something, Oikawa-san?»
Tobio questions him hesitant, observing his own fingers stained with blood; it's a disaster hard to explain, if someone will asks questions once he'll be at home.
To be honest, he doesn't really want to go home – it would mean letting Oikawa go and Tobio wouldn't accept an end without answers, at the cost of spending a whole night in an anonymous conbini with the other.
«Maybe. Not if you know already the answer.»
Oikawa snarls, avoiding Tobio's gaze; no obvious questions permitted then, like the fact that they both feel something for each other.
Kageyama would want to hear a confess from Oikawa in person, but he knows how much proud they are – their gestures, when they're together, are always been louder than words, and Tobio can't say that he doesn't like the pragmatic side of his senpai.
«Your flower;» he now remembers the conversation with his Karasuno's friends and he asks to himself again if Oikawa too spoke about them with others; «your petals, how are yours?»
Tobio doesn't know exactly why he asks it, he knows it's a stupid question that won't solve anything, but he gives a possibility – maybe starting to believe in fate if they'll find out that the same flower made them sick.
«It's not important.»
Oikawa copies his words, stands up and tosses in the near bin his issue full of blood.
He thinks about what Iwaizumi would do if he were here with him – probably saying he's an idiot as usual, but he would be happy for them.
Then, he also recalls the conversation with his nephew, a twist of fate, if only Takeru knew that the "girl who doesn't want him" is that Tobio he met years before.
Nobody would stop him from trying, it's just his superb inner self to stop him - almost fearing that accepting this reality means giving up the competition against Kageyama, as the losing part.
«Wasurenagusa.»
Tobio exclaims it with an arrogance which Oikawa can't understand; his kōhai's eyes watches his and Oikawa considers his display of pride so foolish: why should he be proud of those damn feelings?
He shouldn't, but yes, Tobio seems pleased to feel something for his stupid senpai.
And Oikawa maybe begins to envy him, at least a little.
«Here in Japan it's called like that.»
Tobio keeps talking, moving closer to the older to reveal something that Oikawa wouldn't like to see.
Resting on the palm of his hand, here it is, small and anonymous, gracious, despite its fragility – of a shiny blue that hurts Oikawa's eyes, blinded by so much beauty.
It's a familiar sight, yet seeing a petal in Tobio's hands is a show of great value, unique and painful at the same time.
«Myosotis.»
Oikawa whispers searching into the pocket of his uniform; he shows a petal – a white one – and Tobio's eyes now shine with a new light, something that should make Oikawa happy, but it doesn't resolve, however, his indecision.
What can they do with all this story?
The clash between instinct and reason continues a bit longer, seconds where they observe each other without uttering a word; their eyes are enough because they both realize what they're thinking and it's the instinct – perhaps – to push them towards the same direction.
For Oikawa is a "fuck" that echoes in his own mind, a sweet word to that paranoia which followed him until now and that, inevitably, brought him there, in the anonymous conbini with Tobio.
And on the other hand, Tobio seems a little more convinced; it could prove to be a bad choice, but he doesn't underestimate himself and he knows – he's sure – that their petals should mean something bigger than themselves, although they never believed in fate.
There is nothing romantic in predestination, it's a concept that doesn't suit the two boys, but this is a challenge they both don't want to lose.
«Tobio-chan, I got sick because of you; I deserve one more kiss, right?»
Oikawa spreads his arms and it looks like an invite to the younger; a simple and silly hug, a childish gesture – surely, but after that, their second kiss tastes of trust and truth that no, they both, this time, will ever forget.
{Hey, stay here until the clouds fade away
because it will surely rain soon
you don’t need to say anything
just sing softly for our sake}
Kalafina - Kugatsu