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A soft rain falls in the early morning, and the way the raindrops connect with each other before sliding down the window plane has Tooru distracted from rapidly tapping his fingers against the window sill. He was about to chew through his bottom lip until he decides that he had to step outside.
He almost slips while rushing to the entranceway. He doesn’t bother with unlacing his shoes and instead slips on the shoes as best he can. He grabs the small umbrella, the one that’s not meant for two, and shuts the door.
After a short jog, he finally has Hajime in his sights again - a respectable distance of course, he isn’t going to hover that close. Just close enough to keep his nerves from going haywire. But maybe a few more steps, just in case. There might be a car speeding through the residential area.
The other man is swinging a white cane in arc, feeling out the area in front of him. He takes his time, seeming not having any trouble with the cane, but the wind keeps getting caught in the umbrella in his other hand. The only thing that stops Tooru from closing their distance is the argument that would induce. What’s a healthy amount of time together and time alone? What’s the point of orientation and mobility classes if there’s no independence?
Hajime is at the curb for a moment. The street is blissfully quiet and Tooru is relieved that there isn’t any passing car. Hajime crosses the street without a hitch, and manages to walk around the car parked slightly too close to the corner of the curb. Tooru glares at the offending obstacle when he himself crosses the street.
Finally, Hajime reaches the grocery store. He manages to find an employee to help him pick out the right kind of milk he wants. He mutters something about getting the proper whole milk instead of the 2%.
Tooru waits for Hajime outside the store. He needs to jog a few meters ahead of his beloved. The stupid car from earlier had finally moved, but Tooru has to wonder if the rain is distracting from hearing the sounds of the streets. Maybe they should invest in better raincoats so Hajime doesn’t have to hold the umbrella. Maybe a guide dog would be the best – Hajime could even go through the more crowded parts of town. Iwaizumi is definitely a dog person; he had even talked about sneaking a dog in his dorm when they were in university.
Hajime was finally on the final stretch of this grocery trip. It feels safe enough for Oikawa to turn towards their home and break into a light run. He must reach home before Iwaizumi and make sure to quietly close the door. He’ll never know about Tooru hovering him.
Oikawa rubs the bottom of his shoes dry on the rug before taking them off and tosses the umbrella back into the holder. He dashes back into the kitchen and starts boiling water in the pot again. The pudding mix sits on the counter, only missing that whole milk ingredient. Hajime insisted that the 2% milk would ruin the pudding and that whole milk was the way to go. He was so persistent about getting the milk himself that he was out of the house before Tooru could tell him it didn’t matter.
Tooru sometimes doesn’t know how to stop getting into these petty arguments with Hajime. Who knew that the texture of more liquid pudding would be so off putting to Hajime now. It’s not he can perfectly read his mi-
The front door creaks open as Iwaizumi steps into their home and calls “I’m home!”
Oikawa feels all the tension from this morning cascade off his shoulders, and he can finally drop his body on the couch.
“Tooru, did you step out of the house? That other umbrella was wet. Why don’t you get rid of that one anyway? Last time I use it, it was lopsided and didn’t really hold up against the wind that well.”
He’s shoulders stiffen again. There was a moment in which Tooru imagined burning that umbrella. He groans into his hand. He really can’t get away with anything when it comes to Hajime.
“No coddling anymore Tooru. I need to stay in shape for my own games.”
Tooru couldn’t help the smile forming on his face.
--*--
Years ago, while Oikawa Tooru was preparing for the coming of age ceremony, he decided that the soulmate business was over advertised. The empathetic connection should develop at twenty-years old. There was always a new dating app advertising a faster way to find ‘your perfect one’. Medical procedures, with some concerning risks, that help diminish or eliminate the effects of having a soulmate. There were even these diet trends claiming to enhance eye sight and enrich the bond.
He yielded to his curiosity and searched about soulmates online. He was shocked to read about a supposed clinical psychologist encouraging someone to leave behind their partner and children to pursue a soulmate. There were posts online about finding their soulmate through some random online video, which made Youtube surge into popularity in Japan. He also read stories of individuals meeting their other half much later in life, but not regretting the wait.
That last type of story was what made sense to him. Oikawa really did think that a preassigned lover was beautiful. It was nice to have a guarantee about the person you love. The serendipity of finding a love could have been like an adventure. Those dating apps would have been fun to try!
But there were too many things that he wanted to finish first: Getting into the first string of the Japanese national volleyball team. A gold medal. Crushing the genius at those Olympic Games, World Championships and World Cup.
Oikawa needed more time before he could settle down. But at 20 years old, he had looked at his childhood friend turn flat-mate and knew something had changed. Tooru had felt, for the first time in all their years together, an empathetic connection when they held eye contact. Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s immense relief.
It was too bad Oikawa didn’t know how to control his own annoyance of the whole thing.
He had a dull headache whenever they were playing against each other in university. Their respective universities mandated that they wear those hideous sports glasses or special contact lens so they can’t mingle emotions when facing each other on court. It was a shame to see Iwaizumi cover his gorgeous eyes. Those contacts always seemed to dim the light in them.
Whispers about A-Un relationships were always around their games. Confusion always seem to follow that these two were set against each other.
But Oikawa never backs down from a challenge. Not from determined shrimpy-chan’s, condescending geniuses, or his own beloved soulmate.
It was the things you couldn’t fight that scared Tooru.
They were half way through university when Hajime got a proper diagnosis. Out of the seven years of Hajime’s slow sight deterioration, there were 4 days in a hospital. He had paralysis from the neck down for that hospital stay.
When Hajime was finally able to come back to their shared apartment, Tooru doted on his every need.
They couldn’t find their boundaries anymore. Throughout the days Tooru would bombard him with too many questions:
“Iwa-chan, do you need help finding the remote?”
“Iwa-chan, you need me to pick out an outfit for you?”
“You sure you don’t need help with the bathroom?”
Hajime couldn’t take it. He crunched his enamel and wanted to smack his head into a wall and leave it there. Who wants to let someone hold their dick as they piss?
Months of physical therapy. Occupational therapy. Doctor visits. A whole slew of things that tired Iwaizumi and Oikawa even more than the training for university teams. And the evenings were just as exhausting. There were nights of desperate clinging, peppered with kisses tasting of salt. Hours of constant fear festered between them, trickling from what was left of their empathetic connection.
--*--
Oikawa didn’t think much about retiring. He had played in the Olympics as captain, even winning gold. But blowing out his knee was the tradeoff. The jumper’s knee was advancing to a point where even Tooru had to concede that he might not walk if he kept playing.
He loves to squabble with Tobio-chan, but at the end of the day he decided that his life didn’t need to be a constant battle. That dork could probably handle the tosses for the team. Oikawa wanted to work on other challenges.
Oikawa usually preens at the admiration he is given, but he also loves dishing out the same attention to others. Being appointed a professor at Nittaidai didn’t seem to be all that bad as a retirement plan for him.
So many people had wanted his skills for their team. So many people wanted to challenge and criticize him. Everyone was vying for a little bit of Oikawa here and there. At one point, people had even talked about him becoming the manager of the national men's volleyball team in the future.
His career is always dynamic. It had been exhilarating since being on the radar for the national team. A lifelong dream had led to an understanding of human social behaviors. He pushes his students to gain a real understanding of the status of sports in communities and experience the issues first-hand *.
As invigorating as the daily routines are, Tooru had to learn to find a tranquil balance with his personal life. He found that keeping some routines were best for his sanity.
The newest nightly routine would be settling on the right side of the shared bed. Tooru would often count Hajime’s breaths for comfort. Even in sleep, the other man had a steady rhythm.
By mornings he rolls over to peck Iwa-chan’s cheek. If he were to see creases on Iwa-chan’s forehead – then he uses trying to unfurrow the creases with a longer press of lips.
As for Iwaizumi, he was … adjusting at a fast rate.
Iwaizumi seemed to take a new habit of writing. Oikawa had seen him getting used to typing out his thoughts on a computer with the accessibility voice over. But there were times he seemed to be greatly annoyed by the voice projecting things out loud. Oikawa never seen someone so frustrated at spelling and punctuation.
Iwaizumi switched to using the braille adapter just to keep things quiet. Even in the privacy of their own home, Iwaizumi needed a little space for his own private thoughts. Tooru never really minded this solo pursuit, and rarely bothered the other occupant when spending a lazy afternoon in their living room. Tooru likes to drape himself over the arm of the couch and start his own readings at a leisure pace.
On rare afternoons, he swindles Hajime away from the keyboard to enjoy a podcast to relax them both. But this time, Iwaizumi broke the routine of one of these afternoons with just a short few phrases.
“I’ve been thinking about this soul mate nonsense.” Hajime stops typing on the keyboard and turns to face the couch. He face looks heavy and his eyes seem to droop with resignation.
Tooru felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“This soulmate thing is supposed to be natural. And I was thinking - now that it was naturally broken,” Iwaizumi purses his lips, “that there’s no reason to stay together.”
Tooru gritted his teeth. He felt everything between them crashing down.
“So what I’m saying is – you don’t have to be tied down to me. Tooru you can be free to date any of those volleyball bachelors.”
Never had Tooru felt more out of sync.
After moments of silence and shaking himself out of the shock, Tooru hisses out, “Do you really think this was for nothing?”
Tooru feels his eye start stinging, but he quickly launches off the couch and hovers over Iwaizumi’s sitting form. He grabs Iwaizumi’s head with both hands, urgently peering into his partner’s eyes out of an old (but not forgotten) habit.
“Tooru, you must understand,” Hajime raises a hand to hold one of Tooru’s, “I’ve thought about this for a long time. Ever since I couldn’t move in that damn hospital bed.”
The tears now break free. How can the person he surrounded his life around just decide to give up on them? Tooru couldn’t stand the thought of being separated from Iwa-chan.
“I hit a low tree branch during practice walking in the park. There was no way the cane could have helped me.”
“Hajime,” Tooru cups Iwaizumi’s face with a bit more force, “We can work something out. We can get a guide dog to help. But please don’t just give up on us – ”
Tooru pauses and takes a deep breath. He needs to tell Iwaizumi, “I don’t think you ever realize how amazing you are to me. Did you know, Iwa-chan, I had no idea what to do after that gold?”
Tooru thinks about all those things that brought them together. He thinks about the decisions to teach the lifelong sports courses. He saw the change in Iwaizumi, but knew that the athlete was still in him.
Tooru swipes the tears that ran down Hajime’s cheeks.
“Iwa-chan’s happiness is my own. I know that isn’t an easy thing to obtain.”
Tooru presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s forehead once more.
--*--
The way Oikawa charms his way through a crowd never ceases to amaze Iwaizumi. Even at his cousin’s wedding and not knowing this side of the family, Oikawa seems to move the small talk with impeccable timing. Oikawa seems to ask the right questions, but even Hajime could tell when Tooru was starting to wear down. The names and faces are probably a blur, and by the end of it all, Hajime nudges Tooru to just sit and enjoy the food with him.
Tooru practically embed into his family already anyways, they’ll see him in some other family gathering. For now, Hajime wanted Tooru to just relax a little every now and then. Every time Hajime met Tooru’s eyes, there’s a pensive tension underneath that cheery façade. They could have left the reception – there was only extended slow music near the end.
He couldn’t get a proper read on his partner. Hajime furrows his brows. He really needed to get Tooru out of his slump, so he decided that figuring things out was more important than his comfort. He grabs Tooru by the arm and drags him on the dance floor. To a slow dance of course, there was no way he was risking stepping on other people’s toes.
“Obviously I’m not leading this,” Hajime mutters and places his hands around Tooru’s neck. Even without the ahoge, Tooru still one-upped him in height. “Don’t let us crash into anyone.”
“Iwa-chan, you can’t get your hands off me. I knew you liked me.”
“I like you enough. The blurriness has really raised you to a ten out of ten though.”
“Iwa-chan rude! We’re slow dancing please don’t kill the romance.”
Hajime starts playing with the nape of Tooru’s hair. “I thought you might needed a break from everything. Is my family bad with the all those pestering questions, Mr. super-athlete?
“No your family is wonderful. It was just –” Oikawa pauses. “It was so nice seeing a couple get together and party with friends. And I thought that maybe it’s time for our turn soon.”
Iwaizumi moves his right hand in search for Oikawa’s left hand. Oikawa easily catches his partner’s hand and starts leading them across the dance floor.
“You know, Iwa-chan, I really liked their little slide show of the couple’s pictures. I think we might have more pictures together than the newly married couple. I’ve been taking plenty since high school. Mom has a bunch from when we were in diapers.”
Iwaizumi squeezes Tooru’s hand tighter.
“There’s so much I miss, Tooru,” a frown appears as soon as the words leave his mouth. Hajime feels his eyes start to sting. “I going to miss you aging.”
Oikawa kept swaying them, never letting go. “Yeah, you’ll won’t see me become a silver fox. Don’t worry sweetheart, you’ll still be able to touch.” He brings Hajime’s hand to his face.
The sadness seems to dissipate immediately.
“Dreadfully, I can’t hide wrinkles from you. But my old man wrinkles would be from smile lines. I’ll make sure you match me too.” Tooru pecks his other man on the cheek. He then leans to whisper in Hajime’s ear, “I’ll tell you a secret about some of the things you miss. There’s some unattended perks.”
Hajime quirks his eyebrows. The lop-sided smile on Hajime is contagious.
“Sometimes I catch you in my boxer brief’s and I get incredibly turned on.”
Even with the reprimanding smack on the shoulder, Tooru think it was well worth seeing the face and neck flush on the other man.
--*--
There had been a noticeable leap in popularity in Japan for Paralympic sports. One such team, the goalball team, is in the running for the podium.
Perhaps it was due to a certain advocate, who loves to talk about the athleticism needed for these games. One who loves shutting down those ideas that the Paralympic games aren’t ‘real sports’. One who loves using social media. One who has managed to record and post about the goalball team practices and qualifying rounds. One who is already a huge sports audience.
Gold medal Olympian. Professor at a sport university. Full time loving partner.
…and part-time fanatic fanboy.
And boy was this a fanboy moment.
Who wears a freaking track suit jacket in the middle of summer?
In high school, Oikawa had always given Iwaizumi a hard time with those ghastly t-shirts. Especially the one with the kanji for ‘concentration’ printed loudly on the chest of the former athlete.
The very same one that’s tucked in the folds of Oikawa’s jacket. The lucky omen of wearing Iwaizumi’s shirts seemed to relax Oikawa just a tiny bit. Really this is the only time he couldn’t care less about fashion. The national Japanese track suit makes him stand out from the stands though.
Hushing noise echoes throughout the stadium, the game is about to start.
His Iwa-chan has always matched him. Oikawa thinks that a gold for goalball would match the one he has for volleyball.
The signal to start the game goes off.