Archive of Our Own

He cannot stop thinking of the moment when the ball fell to the gym floor for the very last time. It is like his brain is repeating the scene in slow motion over and over again; along with the instant that followed—the second of incredulous silence and then, the loud cheers for the winners.

Karasuno’s victory left a bitter taste in Tooru’s mouth because yet again, Aoba Johsai was not strong enough—he was not strong enough. The realization of the fact that he could not take his team all the way to Nationals weighs down on Tooru's shoulders, but the pride keeps his back straight as they walk back home.

They were supposed to defeat Karasuno and Shiratorizawa to play in the national stage for the first time ever. They were supposed to be the winners, and yet, all their hard work was unfit to defeat a team that had to save itself from ruin in only a few months.

Tooru cannot help but idly kick a pebble as he walks home later that evening. He refused to cry in front of everyone, even when his chest hurt, and the tears pickled at his eyes. He just smiled charmingly—like he always does—to assure his team that he was perfectly fine, something that has become a well-practiced lie.

Iwaizumi places his hand on Tooru’s shoulder, making him stop suddenly. Tooru snaps back to the present and looks at his best friend, who is standing by his side.

“We're here,” Iwaizumi says.

Tooru notices that indeed, they are now standing outside his home. He glances back at Iwaizumi; his eyes are still a little red after he cried earlier.

“Right,” Tooru fiddles with the strap of his sports bag, not making a move to enter the house.

“Are you okay?” Iwaizumi asks after a moment.

“Never been better,” Tooru answers, shoving his hands into his pockets instead.

Another lie.

He knows Iwaizumi knows he is lying, and he expects to be confronted about it, but his friend just shakes his head.

“Just… don't stay awake until 3 a.m.” Iwaizumi pats his shoulder one last time before he leaves to walk down the street to his family’s home.

Tooru’s hands shake when he reaches for the keys inside his pocket. He opens the door, almost falling to the ground when he takes off his shoes in a haste. His mother calls him, but he ignores her, opting to go straight to his bedroom.

As soon as he closes the door behind him, he walks to his futon and finally allows the tears to stream freely down his cheeks. The pressure on his chest does not fade and he hugs his knees, noticing—not for the first time—how difficult it is to breathe when he is sobbing.

He really wanted to win.

◄►

Tooru expected to wake up with a headache, but strangely enough, he feels fine and well rested. He spent the night crying frustrated tears, with his face buried on his pillow, wanting to punch a wall; but he does not feel any of that now. He is just a bit disoriented as he fumbles to find his phone, which is chiming and buzzing somewhere.

He curses internally for forgetting to turn off his alarms, feeling less upset when he notices that he slept through a couple of them.

The annoying sound finally stops when Tooru finds his phone between his sheets and turns off the alarm. He lies on his back for a long while until it starts to hurt, but it is no use, he is unable to fall asleep again. He kicks the covers away and gets up to have breakfast.

“Tooru, why aren't you wearing your uniform?” his mother asks when he walks into the kitchen.

Tooru blinks, confused. He looks down and notices for the first time that he is wearing pajamas, unable to pinpoint the moment when he changed his clothes after he arrived home.

“Don’t stand just there. Sit down and eat something,” his mother continues. “You have a big game today and you need the energy.”

Tooru freezes. He is pretty sure his family is aware of the bad outcome of their latest match.

“We lost,” he mumbles, sitting at the table in front of Takeru.

“Really?” his mother lifts an eyebrow. “Yesterday, you came home really excited because you won both of your matches.”

“You made Dewaichi and Date Tech bite the dust!” Takeru exclaims.

“Yeah,” Tooru agrees tentatively. He is pretty sure that he has already had this conversation with Takeru.

“You gotta defeat Karasuno now!” Takeru waves his hands, knocking down his glass of juice. “I'm sorry, mom.” He apologizes.

His sister sighs, ruffling Tooru’s hair on her way to retrieve a towel to clean the mess, while Takeru tries to contain the juice with napkins to no avail. Tooru does not squeal like he would usually have, staying frozen in place for the second time that morning as his confusion only grows.

There is no possible explanation for what is currently happening, and it only gets weirder when his mother places a bowl of rice and another of miso soup in front of him: the same breakfast they had the previous day. His father arrives a moment later, reading the same newspaper he read the previous morning.

Tooru excuses himself from the table and runs back to his room. With shaking hands, he grabs his phone, just to let it fall to the ground again when he sees the date.

Tooru went to sleep on a Thursday night and somehow, it is Thursday morning again.

How is it possible that it is not the next day, but still the previous one?

A moment later, his mother knocks on his door, urging him to change into his volleyball uniform, go back to finish his breakfast, and just hurry up because it is getting late.

Tooru does as he is told, not knowing what else he can do when everyone is acting so strange and the date does not make any sense. He changes his clothes and walks straight for the door, retrieving his sports bag along the way.

He does not return to finish his breakfast. His morning has been too weird and going back to his family is unnerving. He crashes into Iwaizumi on his frenzied way out, almost tripping and holding onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

His best friend steadies him by grabbing his shoulder.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi says. “It’s not like you to be late for a game, did you even sleep last night?”

Tooru barely nods before Iwaizumi drags him in the direction of the bus stop. He is speechless during the ride, pretending that Iwaizumi is not looking at him suspiciously.

They arrive at school with barely any time to spare and Tooru is definitely weirded out by the familiarity of everything that is happening around him. They take another bus to Sendai’s gym and some things change, but most of them stay the same—conversations that he already heard, jokes that are not really funny the second time around and the same annoyed look that Yahaba shots at Kyoutani every once in a while.

The girls from his fan club call him when they arrive at the gym, and instead of slipping away to talk to them and enjoy the praise—as he likes to do—he stays close to the team, walking by their side, barely waving at the girls.

Their warm up time starts, and they move to the court. Instead of setting for his team, Tooru stays by the sidelines, silently looking as Yahaba sets ball after ball.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Iwaizumi crosses his arms. His tone is not exactly kind, but Tooru can still notice the worry in his voice.

“Iwa-chan, is this a dream?” Tooru asks.

Iwaizumi looks at him with a puzzled expression, but before he can make a snarky remark a ball hits Tooru right on the face. Most accurately, a spike hits him right on the nose, and it hurt like hell.

Dreams are definitely not painful.

Tooru looks in the direction of the player who sent that spike and finds Kindaichi looking like he might just die on the spot.

Mizoguchi notices that Tooru’s nose is bleeding profusely, and despite his protests he sends Tooru to the infirmary with Iwaizumi grimacing at his side. They miss the first set of the game. Tooru’s nose is not broken but it has gotten purple, and he is pretty sure that it will only look worse.

Aoba Johsai loses the game. Again. Tooru asked the coaches to let him play the second half of the game, but they only let him return as a pinch server, not missing the pained expression on his face every time he moved.

On their way out, after they have dried their tears and picked up all of their belongings with sad faces, Tooru notices Ushijima looking at him. The words that Ushiwaka told him the day before still ring inside his head along with the pride and the ache in his chest.

He keeps walking, not sparing a second look at Shiratorizawa’s captain, not really wanting to face him ever again.

Tooru feels exhausted when he goes to sleep on Thursday night.

◄►

Tooru wakes up on Thursday morning.

The catchy tune of his alarm wakes him up and it does not take more than a quick look at the screen for Tooru to know that the date on his cellphone has not changed. His nose is no longer swollen but his family acts and speaks the same as the previous day and the day before that, and it is almost like he is watching a movie with actors reciting a script they know by heart—except he is not.

It is something more complicated than that.

Tooru is sure that somehow he got stuck in time. Time travel sounds crazy, but there is no other explanation for him to wake up in the same Thursday morning all over again. It really psyches him out.

He thinks for a moment about all the time travel movies he has watched in his life—most of the time, the protagonist is sent back to change something from the past, to get another chance.

That is it. Tooru has another chance at beating Karasuno and going to Nationals, and he is sure he will make it work.

He rushes to the Iwaizumis’ household after he gets dressed, rings the bell at least three times in his haste.

Iwaizumi is already wearing his volleyball uniform but still sporting a towel around his neck when he opens the door. Tooru’s eyes follow the path of a couple of droplets that slide from his hair, down the column of his neck. He pauses for an instant, almost forgetting why he ran three streets like a mad man.

“It’s too early,” Iwaizumi says. “Shittykawa, did you even sleep last night?”

“I slept, I’m just excited for the game today,” Tooru answers, letting his confusing thoughts slip away from his mind, pausing altogether for a moment to consider if he should tell Iwaizumi about his time travel problem.

“If you fall asleep on our way to the game, I’ll let Matsukawa take embarrassing pictures of you,” Iwaizumi declares, moving to the side anyway so Tooru can walk into the house.

“I won’t.”

Iwaizumi shrugs, walking toward the kitchen. There is a plate of half-eaten breakfast waiting for him and Tooru realizes that he forgot to grab something to eat in his way out.

“What do you think of time traveling?” Tooru asks suddenly.

Iwaizumi barely looks at him, distracting himself from his food just for a moment.

“I don’t know, I don’t spend my time thinking about fictional things,” Iwaizumi answers, not really looking like he would appreciate having a conversation about it.

“Right.” Tooru sighs.

He tries to keep his mind away from the subject for the rest of the day, until he is standing in front of Karasuno, shaking the captain’s hand with gritted teeth, promising to win the next time.

◄►

As soon as Tooru opens his eyes, he scrambles around his bedroom to collect his things as fast as he can, not sparing a single second to remain on his futon, not when he is still is trapped in time.

He collects his sports bag quickly, running out of the house to the closest bus stop. He needs to arrive at the gym as fast as he can, he needs to train—to jump higher, run faster and serve until his serves are perfect; until he is perfect.

Iwaizumi calls him when he is already sweating inside the school gym. Tooru hits serve after serve, barely noticing that his phone is ringing until he runs out of volleyballs and has to take a break.

“Where are you?” Iwaizumi asks when Tooru finally picks up the phone.

“Practicing a little, I just wanted to serve a few balls.” It’s a simple—and mostly honest—answer. Iwaizumi does not need to know that Tooru has already served more than a few balls.

“We have a game today, you cannot afford to be tired for it,” Iwaizumi chides as Tooru keeps picking the balls up, collecting them and getting ready for the next round of serving practice.

“I know, it’s some last-minute practice, nothing too hard.” Tooru rolls his ankles and takes a ball from the cart. “I’ll see you later.”

Tooru hangs up before Iwaizumi can argue, places his phone over the pile of volleyballs and jumps. He hits the ball with enough force but his aim leaves a lot to be desired.

By the time Tooru makes it to the game—almost late and panting from the physical exertion—his muscles are sore and begging for a break.

Iwaizumi is laughing along with Hanamaki when Tooru looks at him and he would be lying if he said it did not make his heart skip a beat. Then, he wonders when his heart started to race because of his best friend’s joyful face.

Tooru does not have much time to dwell in his thoughts. Irihata orders him to start his warm up as soon as he notices that Tooru has arrived and he complies, feeling a rather unpleasant burn when he stretches.

Iwaizumi notices him soon enough and flicks his forehead, hard; no doubt noticing how his movements are slower than usual. Tooru deserves it, even more when he is too tired to follow the fast rhythm of the game and they lose yet again.

◄►

Tooru kisses the pretty girl from Class 4 just before the match.

Furukawa Chigusa is undoubtedly pretty—she is petite with a small waist, big bright eyes and strawberry blonde hair.

Tooru knows that most of the boy in his class—and in the whole of Aoba Johsai—would love to be in his place right now, as much as he is sure that she would not trade him for anyone else. She is part of his fan club and she blushed prettily when Tooru asked her to talk in private, and even more when Tooru asked for a kiss from her.

So, Oikawa Tooru kisses Furukawa Chigusa just because he can. Because he is tense and frustrated, and her pretty hazel eyes remind him of the person he desires the most but cannot have. Not now, not ever.

Boys do not go around wanting to kiss their same-sex best friends and he is sure Iwaizumi would never like him in that way. So, he gets what the other boys want, while he tries to convince himself that he also wants that.

The kiss lasts too long for Tooru but judging by the way the girl looks at him afterward, it was not long enough for her.

Chigusa wraps her arms around Tooru’s neck forcing, him down to steal another kiss from his lips. Tooru keeps his eyes open, sees the exact moment when Iwaizumi stops in his tracks after rounding the corner. Most likely, Irihata and Mizoguchi sent him to drag Tooru back into the gym.

Iwaizumi looks back at him with wide eyes, taking a step back, and then another. Tooru places his hands on Chigusa’s shoulders, breaking the kiss.

“Iwa-chan, wait!” Tooru exclaims. Iwaizumi does not stop, does not even spare a glance back at him.

Tooru smiles at Chigusa with his patented apologetical smile and trots after his best friend. It is not difficult to catch up with Iwaizumi—he is not walking very fast, but his body language reflects that he is not pleased at all.

“Didn’t know you had company,” Iwaizumi mutters, not stopping for a second, looking straight ahead.

Tooru throws his arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, playfully squeezing him.

“Iwa-chan, don’t tell me you also have a crush on Chigusa-chan,” Tooru teases.

“I don’t.” Tooru feels Iwaizumi’s muscles tensing before he gets shoved away. He pretends that Iwaizumi’s upset face does not make him upset too.

“There’s no need to be so shy about your crushes, we’re friends after all,” Tooru insists, not really thinking when he adds: “I can even help you get the girl of your dreams.”

That comment makes Iwaizumi angrier, makes him run away and Tooru cannot catch up on him, not when Iwaizumi is sprinting at full speed.

The game is a disaster—Tooru cannot get in synch with Iwaizumi and it only goes downhill from there.

Aoba Johsai loses the game, but that outcome was expected, even if it pains Tooru to admit so.

◄►

Tooru does not think much. There is only one thing in his mind, and that thing is winning.

The days start to blur as more loops happen. Tooru tries his best to change the outcome of their match against Karasuno, but no matter what, there are only two constants in his life: losing, and Iwaizumi.

No matter what he does, or how good he has gotten at predicting his rival’s movements, he is never good enough to win.

Jump higher. Run faster. Make perfect serves. Be the perfect player.

(He will never be perfect.)

Iwaizumi is always by his side, scolding him for spending too much time training, getting constantly angry when Tooru pushes his buttons. But he is also there to give Tooru his water bottle when he catches him at the gym or to buy something for him to eat when Tooru admits that he forgot breakfast.

Tooru actually surprises himself when he wakes up one morning, not even sure of which loop he is in anymore, just to realize that he really wants to kiss his best friend, a feeling that only grows with every loop, no matter how much he tries to deny it because he should not feel that way.

It is difficult for Tooru to keep his façade, but it is even harder to wake up every morning and act like he has not lived the same day a handful of times already.

He sleeps, he wakes up as early as he can, he plays, and then he repeats the routine over and over again. It is monotonous, tedious and Tooru is exhausted of it.

Hell, he really wants to win.

◄►

For the first time since the time loops started, Tooru misses the game.

He wakes up feeling exhausted. His body always feels well rested every morning, but he is mentally drained. He is not sure if he can face his team—if he can face Iwaizumi—and act like he is not crumbling on the inside.

Like every Thursday morning, Tooru gets ready and walks out of his home with his sports bag, already wearing his uniform. However, this time, he stops halfway to school, and just stands there in the middle of a rather lonely street for a moment.

What is even the point in trying? In risking another injury with the amount of extra training he is forcing himself to do? In even going to the match to lose again and again, and again?

Tooru wanders around the city without direction, until he is tired and stops to rest below the shade of a big three in the middle of Dainohara Forest Park as the noon sun makes everything look brighter than it is.

His phone is vibrating inside his pocket nonstop and he throws it away, not caring of where it lands nor if the screen gets cracked or if it explodes. He is only sure that he is tired of it all.

Tooru thinks of other ways to get out of the time loop, feeling no emotion other than distress. For a terrifying moment he thinks of maybe not caring about cars when he crosses the street, of walking too close to the edge of a bridge, or just finding the bottle of sleeping pills that his mother keeps inside her bedside table.

For a moment, he lets himself cry his frustration out, feeling afraid of staying trapped in time forever.

He walks back home after the sun set. His mother cries and hugs him when he shows up at the entryway, clearly worried after he disappeared for the day.

Iwaizumi stops by some minutes later, tells him that they lost the game, scolds him some more for worrying everyone, and then he hugs him, burying his face on Tooru’s shoulder.

Tooru is not sure if Iwaizumi can feel his heart beating out of control inside his chest, but he knows that he would have loved the moment to last longer.

◄►

Tooru tries to forget the previous day, he really does. However, he can feel the remainders of the breakdown on the back of his mind—the unwanted thoughts, the deep feeling of inadequacy and the fear.

He gets back to practice as soon as he opens his eyes, leaving the house silently and jogging to the bus stop, ignoring the cars that pass by, looking anywhere but at them.

Tooru has a cart full of volleyballs to practice with. He has gotten to know how many balls he can serve, how much energy he can use to not feel tired during the match. He set some water bottles on the other side of the net, intending to hit them.

He is not entirely focused on the practice, but the morning goes as he planned it until it does not.

Tooru jumps, but since the moment his feet left the floor he knew that his timing was all wrong. He cannot hit the ball but that is not the end of it—he lands and feels the pain, hears his ankle cracking. He does not have time to think as he gasps, and he falls on his knee. His right knee.

The pain flares up when Tooru tries to get up and he knows that his ankle is far from being fine. He crawls to the bench where he left his belongings, taking out the tube of pain relief gel he always carries with him and his cellphone.

He rubs the gel on his knee, shivering because it feels too cold on his hot skin. Tooru repeats the process with his ankle, taking a moment to catch his breath, not knowing how much time has passed until he hears the doors of the gym opening.

Tooru does not need to look at the door to know that is Iwaizumi, that his training time was over. He does not need to look at his phone screen to know that there are a handful of calls he did not answer.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says through gritted teeth, lifting his hand to wave.

He notices the moment when Iwaizumi takes in his current situation.

“You idiot!” Iwaizumi exclaims. His brow is furrowed when he sits by Tooru’s side, but his fingers are gentle when he gets closer to inspect his ankle.

“It’s nothing,” Tooru whispers.

“What did you just say?”

“I said it’s nothing!” Tooru snaps.

It is not nothing, his skin has begun to turn purple, and he can feel his knee swelling beneath his knee brace that suddenly feels too tight.

“Really?” Iwaizumi crosses his arms, looks at him disapprovingly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine to play later,” Tooru throws his belongings back into his bag.

He stands up, whimpering when he takes a step.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi starts. “Sit down again.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Then stop being a dumbass and take care of yourself!” Iwaizumi is clearly upset.

Tooru is not angry nor sad with his predicament, but he is suddenly furious—with the universe because he is still stuck in a time loop, with Iwaizumi because he is right, and with himself for being indeed a dumbass.

“Why do you even care?” Tooru asks. His voice sounds even more bitter than he intended to and the tears that suddenly well in his eyes make him feel even more upset.

Iwaizumi seems taken aback by his question, conflicted even, and Tooru just wipes his eyes dry with his sleeve and starts moving slowly toward the exit.

“I care because we’re a team, aren’t we?” Iwaizumi answers at last and walks to Tooru’s side to support him and lessen the strain on his injured leg.

“You’ve always been a closeted sentimental,” Tooru says and the tears follow his words, streaming down his cheeks until he is bawling, hanging off Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but leads him back to the bench, rubbing soothing circles on his back until his mother arrives and takes him to the hospital.

The doctor tells him to rest for at least for two weeks and to stop playing volleyball altogether for a whole month. Tooru spends the rest of the day on his bed, sulking and napping because the painkillers make him feel sleepy.

Iwaizumi calls him later to inform him that they lost the game. Tooru does not feel any emotions as he tells him that there was nothing else they could have done.

◄►

Upon waking up, Tooru’s attention goes straight to his right leg. He shakes with relief when he notices that his knee and ankle are not swollen like they were when he fell asleep. He basically jumps out of bed, feeling his heart beating elated inside his chest when there is no remaining pain.

Still, Tooru does not feel like attending the game. Once the initial rush of emotions dies out, Tooru lies down again on his futon feeling like his limbs are made of lead, and so tired that he might as well go back to sleep. But sleep does not come to him and sometime later—minutes, hours; Tooru is not sure anymore—Iwaizumi opens the door of his room.

“It’s late,” he says. Iwaizumi gets Tooru’s volleyball uniform and throws it at him.

“I know,” Tooru replies, his fingers fiddling with the soft fabric of his shirt.

Iwaizumi leaves Tooru alone again. With a huff, Tooru changes his clothes, manages to eat some miso soup for breakfast and then they leave the house together.

The game is the same as always. Sure, Tooru has changed his way of playing since the loops began, aiming to score more points, but somehow the scores are always the same, like they are fated to never change.

They get to match point again. Tooru tosses to Iwaizumi like always, and the spike is almost too powerful to be stopped.

In the past, that move had made Tooru taste the victory as his legs shake when he hurries back to his place on the court, ignoring the throb on his right knee, and feeling breathless.

Something shifts, a change nearly undetectable.

Karasuno’s libero is fast, and the ball is back on the air, flying right to Tooru. He barely has time to look at Hanamaki—the player in the best position to receive the toss—, before he tosses to Iwaizumi again.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen but he still moves to spike the ball. Karasuno’s luck runs out the second time, the captain manages to hit the ball, sending it upwards in an awkward angle that the libero cannot save in time.

The ball falls down to the gym floor for the very last time, a few second of incredulous silence follow and then, the silence morphs into loud cheers for the winners—for them.

“We actually won!” Tooru exclaims, feeling tears picking at his eyes.

“Great job, captain,” Iwaizumi says with a teasing tone and a smug smile.

The thing about living a single day over, and over again, is that worrying about the future is no longer a problem and thinking of the consequences of his impulsive decisions do not weights down on his heart for long.

For a moment time seems to move slower between them. Iwaizumi squeezes Tooru’s shoulder, and he looks so handsome and so irresistible that Tooru cannot help himself when he places a hand on Iwaizumi’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss right there in the middle of the court.

Then, he freezes, realizing that he just kissed his best friend in public. His mind is racing, telling him that kissing his same-sex best friend is wrong, is bad… but at the same time it is everything that Tooru has ever wanted.

Iwaizumi surprises Tooru by kissing back, holding him close, gripping his shoulders so hard it is almost painful.

Matsukawa whistles at them, reminding them of where they are.  Iwaizumi’s cheeks are slightly flushed like his lips, and he smiles when he looks at him.

Tooru wants to kiss him again.

“Let’s go eat ramen to celebrate,” Hanamaki says, throwing his arms over their shoulders and standing between them.

“Yeah, I think the happy couple should be the ones to pay for the team’s food,” Matsukawa adds.

Tooru is about to open his mouth to tell them off, to argue that they are not a happy couple by any means, but Iwaizumi beats him to it.

“We’re not dating.” He shrugs, but he still looks at him with tender eyes.

He likes that look on Iwaizumi’s usually stern face, it makes his heart skip a beat and he no longer knows if he is blushing because he just played a volleyball match or because of Iwaizumi’s smile. It is difficult to believe that he kissed him back, but Tooru knows he wants to kiss him again.

They go to eat ramen in their favorite ramen place and eat to their heart’s content. Their teammates joke and laugh as they eat, and Tooru smiles because for the first time the atmosphere is light and cheerful, unlike the previous times when they arrived at the restaurant after the game with sad faces.

Iwaizumi keeps sneaking glances at him and Tooru finds himself looking back. He really wants to kiss him again.

They wait until they arrive in the safety of Iwaizumi’s room, away from inquisitive eyes and judgmental looks.

Tooru laughs, leaning closer to Iwaizumi, feeling euphoric and maybe a little cynical because he knows how angry his father will be when he eventually returns home and he is confronted for having a big gay crush on his childhood friend.

Tooru no longer gives a fuck, not when the object of his not-so-secret-anymore affections is right in front of him, holding him close and devouring his mouth.

“I waited too long to do this,” Iwaizumi confesses. His voice is slightly hoarse as he traces Tooru’s lips with his thumb.

“Really?” Tooru teases, getting closer—so close that he can feel Iwaizumi’s warm breath on his face.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi whispers.

Tooru kisses him again, coaxing his mouth open and tugging him even closer. They tumble down to Iwaizumi’s bed, not stopping kissing until their lips are red and they are panting.

Iwaizumi’s hands move beneath Tooru’s shirt, and he longs to feel more of his touch, to feel him closer, even though they are already pressed against each other.

Tooru grinds their hips together, he does not think much before doing it, but when Iwaizumi sighs and looks at him with half-lidded eyes, it makes Tooru repeat his movements, muffling their moans with fervent kisses.

Their hands fumble awkwardly, tracing patterns over hot skin, not doing much aside from that, until they both lie side by side on Iwaizumi’s bed that is definitely too small for them.

Tooru does not even notice when he falls asleep.

◄►

Tooru wakes up in a Thursday morning back in his room and completely alone.

“Fuck!” Tooru curses. He feels tears pricking at his eyes and when he blinks there are rivulets of angry tears sliding down his cheeks.

Tooru cannot remember a moment of frustration as intense as the one he is currently experiencing, cannot remember the last time he felt like heart shattering—or if he ever experienced a heartbreak like this.

He sends a desperate text to Iwaizumi as he dries his tears, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.

‘Can I come over? There’s something I need to tell you.’ A simple question and a simple phrase: a text devoid of the usual kaomojis and charm that have become his texting trademark.

Tooru does not wait for Iwaizumi’s answer, silently stepping out of his room and carefully tiptoeing as he passes by his parent’s bedroom, not wanting to wake them up. Maybe he is feeling too paranoid, but the memory of Iwaizumi’s lips on his is enough for him to want to avoid a conversation with his parents at all costs.

He puts on his shoes and slips out of the house, jogging down the street until he arrives at a house that, over the years, has become as familiar as his own.

Iwaizumi looks ready to play volleyball for the rest of the day when he opens the door. He is already wearing his sports uniform and his hair is wet, like in the previous times. Tooru gulps.

“Is everything okay?” Iwaizumi asks, moving to the side to let Tooru take off his shoes and walk into the house. He seems to notice Tooru’s red eyes and he frowns.

Tooru bites his lower lip. “Let’s go to your room first.”

Tooru follows Iwaizumi to his room, walking the corridors that he has already walked countless times in his life.

“What’s so important that you wanted to see me first thing in the morning?” Iwaizumi asks.

Tooru sits next to him on the bed, right where he has sat countless times before, making sure to leave some distance between him and Iwaizumi. He almost feels like an intruder, like he does not belong next to his best friend.

“You're going to think I'm crazy,” Tooru starts. “But I've already lived today.”

Iwaizumi arches an eyebrow. “Like a déjà-vu?”

“No, I’ve really lived today before.”

Iwaizumi looks at Tooru for a long minute, like he is trying to decide what to believe: the words of his desperate best friend, or his common sense.

“Maybe you should stop watching sci-fi movies for a while,” Iwaizumi says, standing up.

“No, wait!” Tooru reaches to grab at Iwaizumi, barely managing to take a hold of his sports jacket.

“We’re going to arrive late and Mizoguchi’ll have our heads.” Iwaizumi sighs.

“Look, I know how you feel about me, you told me yesterday.” Tooru whispers and Iwaizumi stops in his tracks. “Well it wasn’t actually yesterday but today, because this already happened.” Tooru watches as Iwaizumi’s frown deepens.

“What are you talking about?”

“You like me,” Tooru says bluntly, feeling bad when he sees Iwaizumi paling because of his words. “You really like me.”

“What are you talking about?!” Iwaizumi looks horrified for a second, like Tooru just said out loud his deepest secret and maybe he did just do that. “Who told you that?”

“I already told you.” Tooru struggles to maintain eye contact. “You did.”

Iwaizumi takes a step back and Tooru takes two steps forward. He places his hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders and kisses him, not expecting the hard shove he gets in return.

“Stop!” Iwaizumi runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

“Iwa-chan, I–”

“No, I don’t want to hear it, I’m not someone you can play with.” Iwaizumi is clearly distressed, an emotion that Tooru has only seen a couple of times on his face.

“I’m not,” Tooru argues.

“Please leave me alone.” Iwaizumi pleads in a small voice and Tooru complies, not wanting to anger him further.

Iwaizumi ignores Tooru for the rest of the day, going as far as missing the game, getting his mother to call the coaches to tell them that he is suddenly really sick. Tooru is not completely focused when he plays and Karasuno does not misses their chance to score points easily.

Out of all the matches Tooru has attended so far, this is the one they lose the fastest.

◄►

“What’s so important that you wanted to see me first thing in the morning?” Iwaizumi asks.

Tooru sits by his side again. He is even more anxious than the previous day—the previous loop—, as he fiddles with his cellphone, looking everywhere but at Iwaizumi’s eyes, pretending to be interested in the old pictures on Iwaizumi’s desk.

Tooru ponders his answer for a moment. He does not know, he only wanted to see his friend, he longed for the comfort of the person that knew him best.

Tooru answers by kissing his best friend. He holds Iwaizumi’s face in his hands and brings him closer, presses his mouth against his, he feels tears picking at his eyes and Iwaizumi placing his hands on his shoulders, maybe to push him away again.

“You're going to think I'm crazy,” Tooru says, he can feel his heart thundering inside his chest. “But I've already lived today… and I guess I like you.”

Tooru’s chest hurts as Iwaizumi looks at him like he is trying to make sense of his words—with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth, like he cannot think of something to say.

“Like a dejà-vu?” Iwaizumi asks at last. He sounds a little breathless and Tooru feels his knees wobbling.

“Something like that,” Tooru mutters.

“And you guess you like me?” Iwaizumi continues. “And you actually kissed me?”

“Yeah,” Tooru agrees. He cannot deny those facts.

“I need time to process this,” Iwaizumi says, moving to sit at his desk.

“Why Iwa-chan? No one has ever confessed to you yet?” Tooru asks.

“Not someone I care about,” Iwaizumi whispers and Tooru almost misses his words.

“Iwa-chan, you do really care,” Tooru says, placing a hand over his chest in a dramatic way. Iwaizumi blushes and shifts his gaze to the side.

A moment of silence engulfs them both.

“Now what?” Iwaizumi asks after a beat.

“I don’t know.” Tooru sighs.

“Wanna grab something to eat after the game?” Iwaizumi looks him in the eyes again.

“Like a date?” Tooru’s heart skips a beat.

“Yeah.”

“We can’t,” Tooru states, maybe a bit too bluntly. “I mean, what will my fan club think if I’m not longer available?”

He cannot tell Iwaizumi that he is afraid of ruining their friendship over something so asinine as having a crush on him that most likely will disappear soon. That everything is probably just a dumb phase, that he is not ready nor brave enough to hold his hand and tell the world that they are together.

Sure, he is the one who kissed Iwaizumi, twice; but the nagging feeling in his mind would not leave him alone, repeating to him that he did something wrong.

However, his excuse was not a good thing to say. Iwaizumi frowns and crosses his arms, not happy with his answer, and Tooru almost slaps himself for being such an idiot.

“Why did you even kiss me?” Iwaizumi demands.

“I’m not even sure.” Tooru answers, he might as well keep digging his own grave.

“Then leave,” Iwaizumi says, not leaving room to argue. “I’m not someone you can play with.”

Tooru barely nods. The words hurt even more the second time around.

Iwaizumi attends the game, but he acts like Tooru is not present. Their usual rhythm is nowhere to be found and their lack of focus is too obvious and damaging to their team dynamics.

Karasuno beats them effortlessly.

Tooru notices Ushijima Wakatoshi looking at him when he walks out of the gym. He has done a great job so far forgetting about the fact the Ushijima always waited for him after the game. It is a constant, something always present in every single loop and it drives him crazy.

Tooru turns to Hanamaki, who talks animatedly about his favorite ramen that he cannot wait to eat. “I’ll join you in a minute, there’s something else I need to do.”

Hanamaki nods and jogs to catch up with Iwaizumi who walks in the front, as far from Tooru as possible without giving away the fact the he is ignoring him, like the whole team is not already aware of that.

“What do you want from me?” Tooru asks, getting closer to Ushijima.

“I noticed you seemed a bit distracted out there,” Ushijima replies, avoiding the question.

“Well, I’m pretty sure everyone noticed it, you’re not that special.” Tooru crosses his arms.

“You could’ve been better in Shiratorizawa,” Ushijima says.

That only makes Tooru’s blood boil. “What for?”

“To win.”

“I can win with my current team,” Tooru clenches his fists, struggles to maintain his calm demeanor.

“Then, why are you not doing that?”

◄►

Tooru carries on his routine as calmly as possible while he feels anything but calm. It is Thursday morning again and Tooru is sure that he is unable to hate any other day as much as he hates Thursday mornings now.

(He is not even sure of how many Thursdays he has lived so far and that is what scares him the most.)

On his way out of his home, he eyes the liquor cabinet where his father stores a couple of bottles for special occasions. Tooru almost wishes he were alone to steal one of them.

The game carries on as usual, but it is not like Tooru expected otherwise. He even pushed aside his confusing feelings toward his best friend, not wanting to argue with him.

However, something shifts, and while Karasuno scores the winning point, it is thanks to a well-aimed spike from Kageyama Tobio that they win.

Tooru sees red. Kageyama has never been the one to score the winning point in the previous loops, it was always one of the wing spikers or the captain, even the number 10 shorty has scored the winning point a couple of times.

Out of the six players of the other side of the net, Kageyama Tobio is the one who reclaims the victory for his team thanks to a chance ball that fell directly to his arms.

He did what Oikawa could not do. He is the one standing tall while Oikawa fists his hands in frustration as his nails scratch the polished wood of the gym’s floor.

Tooru feels the blood boiling inside his veins. Overcome with rage, he walks to his rival setter as he heaves and his hands tremble. Tooru does not think for a moment, feeling numb, like his brain is completely blank as punches Kageyama Tobio right on the nose.

The following seconds are pure madness. Kageyama touches his face like he cannot believe he just got punched, his fingers are stained red and he looks at Tooru in surprise.

Iwaizumi is behind Tooru in a second, holding him back, but there is no need, he slumps against his friend, realization downing upon him.

He really punched Kageyama.

He is not able to deny the guilt that creeps inside him, especially when the rest of Karasuno looks at him exactly like he is—a bitter asshole who just punched his junior in a fit of rage.

Iwaizumi hastily pulls him into the locker room while madness still erupts around them.

“What the hell is wrong with you? What is your problem?” Iwaizumi squeezes his wrist. It is almost painful.

He is aware that Kageyama and Ushiwaka are not the problem. He is the problem, the entire universe that is punishing him is the problem.

Tooru struggles to get free, but Iwaizumi’s grip does not falter. Tooru cannot remember the last time his friend was so angry and that leaves an unpleasant taste on his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Tooru whispers, so low he even wonders if Iwaizumi heard him at all.

“What did you say?”

“I said I don’t know!” Tooru exclaims, his eyes prickling with unshed tears. “I have no idea why I did it!”

Iwaizumi releases his wrist.

“What do you mean, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi slides his fingers through his hair, obviously frustrated. “Shit, you'll be suspended from future games, maybe you even ruined your whole career.”

“Well, I don’t exactly care about that right now,” Tooru whispers.

“There are university scouts out there and they saw that!” Iwaizumi continues. If he heard him, he does not acknowledge it.

Tooru is well aware of that.

When he returns home, earlier than usual, he steals his father’s shochu and drinks the whole bottle. Like expected, he got suspended from playing any future games and he is sure that his sport scholarship offers will be taken away from him, so he drinks, ignoring the burn on his tongue, until he falls asleep.

◄►

Tooru walks to the park where he spent countless hours playing with Iwaizumi when they were kids.

He is too big to play on the swings now, but he sits there and just thinks. His crush on his best friend has not gone away, not in the slightest, and maybe a part of him has already accepted that it will not go away.

So what if he likes his best friend? What if wants to kiss him?

Hell, he will kiss Iwaizumi if he wants to, even if the world reprehends him for how wrong his actions are, even if he ends up regretting it sometime in the future.

In a few months he will go away for university, Iwaizumi most likely will go study in a different one, they will go on their separate ways, and it seems foolish to want to start a relationship in that short amount of time, but maybe it will be for the best.

It is hard to see his mother crying for the second time when he arrives home late at night after disappearing for the whole day, but at the same time it has been a while since his mind felt so calm.

◄►

“Mom, dad,” Tooru starts, his heart is beating out of control inside of his chest. “I–I think… I like a boy.”

“What do you mean?” his mother asks.

Tooru takes a deep breath. “I think I… like a boy,” he repeats.

Everyone—even Takeru, who is busy stuffing his face with food—, pauses for a moment.

“You had a girlfriend a few weeks ago,” his father says.

“Yes, I guess I like both, girls and boys,” Tooru explains.

“Go to your room until you stop thinking such nonsense,” his father says.

“But the game–”

“Go to your room right now.” Tooru swallows, his father's eyes are severe, and he cannot bring himself to argue that the team needs its captain as much as he needs his team.

Feeling defeated, Tooru climbs the stairs back to his room, pausing for a moment at the door when his sister rushes to his side and hugs him. He lets his sports bag fall to the floor, feeling tears welling in his eyes.

His legs are trembling when he collapses back to his futon after his whole family left. He is alone and there is no one near to hear him, however he still speaks in a small voice when he talks to himself.

“I think I like a boy,” Tooru whispers, his chest hurts, and it is hard to breath. “No, I'm in love with a boy.”

The words sound foreign to his ears.

Love.

Over the years Iwaizumi Hajime has gotten into his heart, and now Tooru is sure he will remain there, permanently.

Tooru laughs as he wipes his eyes, letting the hot tears fall freely down his cheeks, feeling that for once he was honest with himself.

Later that day, he gets an angry voice call from Iwaizumi, asking why the hell he skipped such a crucial match of the tournament. Tooru laughs and cries until he gets the hiccups.

They lost and Tooru was not there to support the team. He failed his team again and he feels guilty but also strangely giddy.

“Are you alright?” Iwaizumi asks after Tooru stops laughing and he is able to speak again.

Tooru wants to run to the Iwaizumis’ household to kiss his best friend again—kiss him in the current timeline, that is.

“Never been better.”

It is no longer a lie.

◄►

“What’s so important that you wanted to see me first thing in the morning?” Iwaizumi asks.

Tooru sits by his side on the bed. Their thighs brush against each other’s and Tooru wonders for a second if Iwaizumi also likes to keep him close.

“You're going to think I'm crazy.” Tooru smiles, looking straight at Iwaizumi’s eyes. “But I've already lived today.”

Iwaizumi looks at him like he is crazy. “Like a déjà-vu?”

“No, I’ve really lived today before.”

Like every other time they have had this conversation, Iwaizumi looks at him with confusion. However, before Iwaizumi can scold him about spending too much time watching weird sci-fi movies before bed, Tooru speaks again:

“I can prove it.” That single phrase changes the routine Tooru is used to following loop after loop.

“How?” Iwaizumi asks.

Tooru thinks of a way to do that, one different to kissing his best friend.

“No matter what we do, we won’t win today’s match,” he says.

Iwaizumi frowns.

“It isn’t like you to talk like that before a game.”

“It’s because I already know what is going to happen, for example, Irihata will arrive a couple of minutes late because he couldn’t find his keys in the morning, also a van that carried fresh fruit will crash with a tree in the Aoba Castle area and traffic will be awful,” Tooru assures him.

“Really?”

“Yes, I can give you a summary of today and you can judge by yourself,” Tooru says. “If you turn on the news in a couple of minutes you’ll see.”

Iwaizumi does that, and just like Tooru informed him, the crash happens and a bunch of fruit ends up on the pavement.

“Alright, I believe you,” Iwaizumi says after a moment.

“What?!” Tooru exclaims. “I thought you’d need more evidence.”

“The corners of your lips twitch when you lie, and you’re not doing that right now,” Iwaizumi shrugs. “What do you want to do now?”

Tooru decides to ignore that comment, but he still presses his fingers to the corners of his lips, wondering when Iwaizumi got to know him so well.

“Let’s skip the game,” Tooru answers eventually, when Iwaizumi has started to look at him with amusement.

They walk around the park where Tooru spent most of his time a couple of loops ago. He lies on the grass, playfully tugging at Iwaizumi’s sleeve in a silent invitation to lie next to him. Iwaizumi sighs, but he joins him a moment later anyway.

“So, how many times have you lived this day?” Iwaizumi asks suddenly.

“I’m not sure anymore,” Tooru counts with his fingers as he tries to remember as well as he can how many times he has woken up on a Thursday morning. “Maybe twenty times.”

“That’s a lot.”

“I’m so tired of everything,” Oikawa comments. He lifts his arm, opening and closing his fingers, letting the light pass through them. “I just want to win this stupid match, but I can’t even do that.”

A burst of cold wind makes him shiver as some leaves fly around them.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispers and Tooru turns around so fast he gets dizzy, because the instances when Iwaizumi uses his given name are as sparse as they are precious.

Iwaizumi is looking at him with an unreadable expression, like he cannot decide between fondness and exasperation.

“Hajime,” Tooru whispers back.

It has been already four loops since he got to kiss his best friend for the last time and it is too tempting to just close the distance between them and press their lips together.

He really wants to kiss his best friend, but he knows that a misstep could damage their relationship greatly for the remaining of the loop and he does not feel like spending the day alone.

Tooru opens his mouth, not even sure of what he should say, silently wondering if he would ever gather the courage to ask for a kiss from Iwaizumi after all. But then Iwaizumi reaches to slide his hand through Tooru’s hair and Tooru's words die in his throat as his breathing stops altogether and his heart skips a beat.

Iwaizumi’s fingers move softly as Tooru's tresses slip between his fingers. Tooru wants to close his eyes and let himself relax because Iwaizumi’s movements are soft and soothing, but at the same time it is impossible for him to do so when Iwaizumi is so close to him. Eventually, Iwaizumi retrieves a leaf from his hair, showing it to Tooru afterward.

“You had a leaf in your hair,” Iwaizumi says casually, like it is not a big deal.

Sure, a leaf is not something to fuzz about. The intimate gesture, on the other hand, has Oikawa’s heart hammering inside his chest. Tooru wants to know if Iwaizumi’s heart is beating out of control too, wants to know if Iwaizumi wants to kiss him as much as Tooru wants to kiss his best friend.

Iwaizumi smiles at him, and all Tooru can think of is “Fuck”.

“Why are you so obsessed with winning anyway?” Iwaizumi asks.

Tooru does not even have to think of an answer. “Because I don’t want this to be our last game.”

Iwaizumi hums, and a moment of silence passes between them.

“You never change,” Iwaizumi mutters eventually.

“Also I guess I want to see Tobio-chan’s face when I win,” Tooru adds.

Iwaizumi chuckles.

“You truly never change.”

Tooru sits up, this is a moment as good as any other for him to tell Iwaizumi what he wants to say.

“All my life I've tried to hide who I really am,” Tooru starts, taking a deep breath before his next words. “I’ve tried to hide who I really like because I’m afraid.”

Tooru sighs shakily, appreciating Iwaizumi’s silence and the honest look on his face.

“I like girls, but I might also like boys,” Tooru whispers, shifting his gaze to look at his best friend. “I think I like you.”

For the first time ever, Iwaizumi kisses him first. An unsure brush of lips, a shaky hand caressing his cheek.

“I like you too.”

Karasuno wins, but for the first time, Tooru feels like he just won something bigger.

◄►

In between shy kisses, Iwaizumi helped to think of a plan to finally get out of the time loops—to win the game again, and Tooru is going to make sure to follow it.

He tries to change things as little as possible, while he also does his best to anticipate Karasuno’s movements. He keeps quiet about the time travel mess that is currently his life, while he also tries to be nicer, because that is what usually works in movies.

(If anything, it is funny to see Iwaizumi’s expression when he acts like a model player—politely refusing the attention of his fangirls and answering Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s brash comments with kind ones.)

They keep losing, but Tooru will keep trying.

◄►

The ball falls to Tooru’s arms and he sets it easily. Kyoutani spikes it with force, lacking any finesse but the middle blockers cannot stop it and that is enough to give them another point.

Karasuno catches up fast enough, and when they are at match point Tooru feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest.

He tosses to Iwaizumi like he always does, feels the pain on his knee as he runs back to the court to see the moment when Karasuno’s players are not able to save the ball.

They win and Tooru’s cheers are the loudest.

For the second time, he kisses his best friend in front of everyone, with no regrets, holding him close, whispering a “I really like you” over his lips.

Tooru follows Iwaizumi into his family home, and he presses him against his bedroom door to kiss him again and again, until his lips are swollen, and they are panting.

“I don’t know why we waited so long to do this,” Tooru says, feeling better than he has felt in days as the adrenaline courses through his veins.

“It was worth the wait, though,” Iwaizumi agrees.

He pushes Iwaizumi down to the bed, tumbling down after him. He kisses his best friend with enthusiasm until his lips are too red and too sensitive.

“I really like you,” Tooru says.

“You already told me that,” Iwaizumi replies. “I like you too, if you haven’t caught up with that already.”

Tooru giggles.

“Iwa-chan, would you like to go to eat something tomorrow?” Tooru asks. “Maybe also watch a movie?”

“After we beat Shiratorizawa?”

“Yeah,” Tooru has forgotten then have another match to play.

“Sure,” Iwaizumi smiles. “You’re paying for the food, though.”

“Only if you pay next time,” Tooru promises.

“It’s a deal.”

Iwaizumi tugs him closer, brushing his bangs out of his face.

“What will happen in a few months?” Tooru asks after a moment. “When we get into university?”

“We’ll figure it out then,” Iwaizumi assures him.

“But what if there are hundreds and hundreds of kilometers between us?” Tooru whispers.

“We have time to figure out something.”

Just before he falls asleep, he looks one last time at his best friend face, thinking of how much he wants to take him out on a date, of how much he wants to keep kissing him.

Tooru cannot wait for time to continue its natural course. He wants that more than anything else.

◄►

Tooru opens his eyes and his heart skips a beat, feeling his blood freezing because he is alone, and he is inside his own bedroom, lying in his futon. He can see his volleyball uniform hung, ready to be worn, he can almost smell the miso soup his mother is preparing downstairs, and he can feel the tears sliding down his face, and the pressure on his chest that makes breathing difficult.

“No,” he whispers. “Please no.”

With shaking hands, he reaches for his phone, squinting a little because of the too bright screen, sobbing harder when he sees the date.

Still, he gets out of bed, not quite ready to show the world who Oikawa Tooru is, but willing to try anyway. He eats breakfast with his family and walks with Iwaizumi to the bus stop. It is almost unbearable to be so close to his best friend and be unable to hold his hand, even more when Tooru can remember how well they lips fit together, how good Iwaizumi’s arms felt around his waist.

He feels tempted to ask Iwaizumi for a moment to talk alone a few times, but he does not, preferring to ignore the fast beating of his heart when he finds himself thinking of it.

Karasuno gives them a hard time, they play with all they have, but like Tooru expected they cannot win, and somehow it does not hurt as much as it did a few loops before.

They lose the game and Karasuno wins thanks to Kageyama, who hits a perfect spike again. Tooru looks at the younger setter, sees his small smile as his teammates squeeze him in a hug, notices how much things have changed since the time when Kageyama played in Kitagawa Daiichi’s team.

“Tobio-chan, do you have a moment?” Tooru asks, speaking before he can stop himself.

Kageyama stops in his tracks, looking at Tooru with a surprised and curious expression. Tooru cannot forget that the last time Kageyama looked at him like that was when he punched him on that very same court. He is glad Kageyama will never know about that.

“Sure,” Kageyama answers, taking two steps closer to the net.

“You played a good game out there,” Tooru says, surprising himself when his voice sounds too sincere.

Kageyama blinks at him. “Thank you, Oikawa-san.”

“Don't get me wrong, I still hate geniuses,” Tooru tells him, half-fighting the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “And Aoba Johsai will crush you the next time.”

“Not if we crush them first,” Karasuno’s number 10 interrupts, throwing an arm around Kageyama’s shoulders.

Tooru wants to argue back but he notices his team waiting for him to thank the audience and he just waves as he jogs to Iwaizumi’s side.

“You all did a great job today, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Tooru says to his team, while they walk to the exit.

He moves to place his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, pats him a couple of times and like usual he notices Ushijima Wakatoshi staring at him. He excuses himself for a moment, walking in his rival’s direction.

“If you’re going to tell me something about my life choices, go ahead, but I want you to know that I wouldn’t change a thing,” Tooru crosses his arms.

Ushijima keeps looking at him with serious eyes.

“In Shiratorizawa–”

“We’ll never know what could have happened there,” Tooru interrupts. “So what’s even the point of delving into the past?”

“Your team–”

“It’s great and I’m sure they’ll win everything next year,” Tooru finishes. “It was good to talk to you, Ushiwaka-chan.”

Tooru knows it was a childish way to carry out a conversation, but he still leaves before Ushijima can say another word. He joins the rest of Aoba Johsai and they eat ramen together. The gloomy atmosphere lingers, but there is also something brighter than the previous times they have been there after a game.

Tooru cannot help but idly kick a pebble as he walks home later that evening. Iwaizumi is walking by his side, he has told him that even if their teams change, Tooru will be always a partner he can boast about, and that is enough to make him feel lighthearted for the rest of their walk back home.

That is the final push he needs to stop for a moment and do the thing he was missing since the morning: take a hold of Iwaizumi’s hand.

“I really like you, Iwa-chan,” Tooru confesses, smiles and rubs circles with his thumb on the back of Iwaizumi’s hand.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, bemused.

It might be the third time someone looks at Tooru with wide eyes today and that makes him chuckle as he gets closer to his best friend.

“If you don’t want this, push me away, I won’t object,” Tooru whispers into Iwaizumi ear. Then, he places both of his hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders and leans down to kiss him.

It is a short kiss, Tooru just smashes their mouths together, but it makes his lips tingle and it is perfect.

“Iwa-chan, go on a date with me tomorrow.” Tooru says.

Iwaizumi still looks too surprised by the turn of events, but then his cheeks flush and he laughs, squeezing Tooru’s hand.

“I’d love to.”

They do not spend much more time outside, and Tooru walks into his home after pressing one last kiss to Iwaizumi’s lips. He greets his family, internally promising himself to talk to them soon, before he walks into his room, where he texts his best friend until he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Tooru goes to sleep on Thursday night, feeling for once that everything is in the right place.

◄►

Tooru wakes up on a Friday morning.

It is a beautiful day.

◄►