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astrowaffles · 5 months ago

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Birds of a Feather

Teen for language (?) | fluff, long distance, confessions

for @haikyuuaction & @blithering-ming

When Hajime Iwaizumi was exactly one month old, he got terrifyingly ill with pneumonia.

Everyone around him thought for certain he was going to die. Even his parents, well known for their optimism, were beginning to resign themselves to their tragic fate, collecting up his clothes and toys to be put into storage so they wouldn’t have to look at them if the worst happened. It seemed to be truly in the hands of the gods, unable to be influenced by any human power – and, just as suddenly as it had come upon him, the pneumonia left Hajime and allowed him a full recovery, ten days after he’d fallen so drastically ill.

It wasn't for another five years that they would find out that this miraculous recovery occurred the day Tooru Oikawa was born.

------

OR: Hajime and Tooru are always on the same page, but after moving across the world from each other, it's getting harder to see the lucky coincidences they used to be famous for. But this is iwaoi after all - even 5000km can't shake their bond, and all it takes is a love confession to prove it.

When Hajime Iwaizumi was exactly one month old, he got terrifyingly ill with pneumonia.

New babies are often fragile, crying over every little thing and liable to be hurt by something even as small as a temperature change. The dust and germs that adults forget about invade babies like tiny, evil soldiers intent on revenge. In this case, a sudden summer chill that no-one thought much of struck Hajime down with serious illness, leaving his parents and relatives floundering. He’d been declared a ‘strong, healthy and heavy baby’ by his midwives, not likely to catch any of the common sickness most children are afflicted by, so this bout of coughing and spluttering left everyone on a knife edge, waiting to see what would happen.

It wasn't for another five years that they would find out that this miraculous recovery occurred the day Tooru Oikawa was born.

“What a coincidence,” laughed Mrs Iwaizumi when she heard about it.

“A lucky one,” her husband agreed, and ruffled Tooru’s hair, chuckling at Hajime’s scowl.

It was not the last time Tooru and Hajime produced a lucky coincidence, though perhaps it was the most drastic. It was these odd, fortuitous coincidences that governed their lives: being placed in the same class throughout all of elementary, getting into volleyball at the same time, catching chickenpox from the same kid and being allowed to convalesce together, receiving their first confessions within a month of each other, being added to Aoba Johsai's starting lineup on the same day, discovering a shared love for horror movies the minute they turned on their first one (which, of course, they were watching together). These endless twists of fate kept them together, kept their destinies intertwined, until there was nothing in the universe that could separate them.

Perhaps, therefore, it was only natural that they would both decide to move across the world in the same year - only this time, in opposite directions. Hajime would go north, to California and to higher education. Tooru would go south, to San Juan and to professional volleyball. Perhaps, for once, destiny had not been on their side; perhaps, for the first time since meeting, they would separate. Perhaps it would be forever.

"This should be more dramatic, shouldn't it?" Tooru observed, with a little nervous laugh.

"No," said Hajime, resolute. "That would make it worse."

They stared at each other, washed out and artificial in the LED airport lights. Tooru looked close to tears. Hajime felt close to tears; he hoped it didn't show on his face.

"You look like you're about to cry," said Tooru. How could Hajime forget? Tooru read people for a living, and Hajime had been his first subject.

"I'm not," Hajime lied.

They continued to stare at each other. Tooru fidgeted with his bag. Hajime couldn't think of anything to say. Words didn't come naturally to him like they had at the end of the spring prelims.

"You'll be okay?" Tooru asked, concern etched over his face like Hajime was the one leaving, not him.

"Without you?" Hajime snorted. "It'll be nice. Peace and quiet."

Tooru rolled his eyes. “In California, dummy.”

“Will you be okay in San Juan?” Hajime countered.

“Without you?” Tooru thought about it. “Noooo, it’ll be terrible, come with meeeee-“

Hajime snickered. Tooru’s mock-pained face relaxed into a gentle smile, and he raised his fist. “C’mon, one last bump?”

“Don’t make it sound weird,” Hajime sighed, gently hitting Tooru’s fist with his own. A crackly voice announced it was boarding time; Tooru checked his watch, surprised.

“Guess that’s me,” he said. He didn’t move.

“Guess so,” Hajime agreed, not moving either. “Want me to walk you to the gate?”

“Please,” said Tooru, finally beginning to drag himself across the airport.

They walked instep for a few meters, Tooru fussing with his hair, his carry-on, his watch, his shirt buttons, his glasses, and then finally, when they reached the gate, Hajime’s hair, shirt, and rucksack.

“Thanks, Mom,” Hajime said, once Tooru had finished arranging. “You know you’re the one going, right?”

“You’re welcome,” said Tooru. “And yeah. I know.” His smile seemed a little forced now, as he gave Hajime’s shoulder a squeeze.

Hajime squeezed the hand resting on his shoulder, then let go. “See you later?”

“Not if I see you first,” Tooru laughed, and went to board his plane.

It was only when the last of that carefully styled brown hair disappeared behind the plane doors that Hajime thought, I should’ve hugged him.

One year later

“Hey, Hajime!” David called, jogging towards his friend. “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting,” said Hajime, typing furiously on his phone.

“Jeez, who’s pissed you off this time?”

“Tooru.”

“Of course.” David rolled his eyes. “Who else. What did he say?”

“Argentinian volleyball is better than Italian,” Hajime fumed. “Just because he’s got Jose Blanco on his side-“

“Ohh, volleyball,” David teased. “For a sec I thought it was something important- hey!” He stepped back to avoid being elbowed in the gut. “Alright, alright, I know it’s important...”

“Too right it is,” Hajime sniffed. “This could be life or death.”

David raised an eyebrow.

“As in, I’ll kill him if he doesn’t say I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you coming out with us tonight or are you too busy with your precious Tooru~?”

“Precious?” Hajime snorted. “As if. I’m coming out tonight, anyway.”

“And will you actually speak to us or will you just be texting Tooru~?”

“Will you stop talking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a twelve year old girl?”

David gasped. “What do you mean?”

Hajime stared at him.

David shrugged and let his playful expression drop. “I’m just teasing you, man. Pregame at mine?”

“Sure,” said Hajime. “What time?”

“Eh, get ready at mine too, so turn up whenever.”

“I hate it when you say that,” Hajime sighed. “I’ll be there at 6.”

“Early bird gets the worm, I like it,” David nodded.

“That makes no sense.”

“Oh, have you not heard the expression before? It means-“

“I know what it means, don’t worry,” Hajime assured him. “I’ll text you when I leave my dorm.”

“Sure,” said David. “I don’t think you do know what it means, though.”

“I have a vague suspicion,” said Hajime, standing and slipping his phone into his pocket, “That I might know what it means better than you do.” He swung his backpack onto his shoulder and began to walk away.

“This is why Tooru doesn’t like you!” Daniel called after him.

“I wish that was true!” Hajime called back. “Might have some peace from him then,” he added to himself, smiling slightly as his pocket vibrated with Tooru’s angry texts.

Never one to leave a friend alone if he could be bothering them, Tooru facetimed Hajime at 6pm on the dot, right as Hajime stepped into David’s common room.

“Hello?” said Hajime in Japanese, artfully dodging the beer cans that had been knocked onto the floor.

“HAJIME!” Tooru yelled through the phone. “WHERE ARE YOU? THAT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE YOUR ROOM!”

“Why are you shouting?” asked Hajime, exchanging an exasperated glance with a slightly confused David.

“IN CASE YOU CAN’T HEAR ME,” Tooru explained. “I’M BY A BUSY ROAD.”

“Is that Tooru? What’s he saying?” asked David.

“He said he’s by a road,” Hajime translated.

“OH, IS YOUR FRIEND THERE?” Tooru asked. “CAN I TRY MY ENGLISH ON HIM?”

“He wants to know if he can try his English on you,” Hajime repeated.

“Uh, sure?”

On screen, Tooru beamed. “GIVE HIM THE PHONE,” he commanded; Hajime obediently handed his phone to David, mouthed good luck, and went to get changed. The whole time he was getting dressed, from hauling on the overly tight muscle shirt one of his friends heavily implied he should wear to nearly falling over from trying to put socks on while standing up, he could hear Tooru booming through the screen in slightly broken English. David interjected here and there, usually sounding lost and a little scared, but Tooru steered the conversation masterfully. What they were talking about, Hajime had no idea. The walls weren’t that thin. By the time Hajime was fully clothed again and ready to rescue David, he wasn’t needed anymore. Tooru had worked his beautiful Oikawa magic and they were apparently best buddies now.

“Did he really say that?” David laughed. Tooru’s bright smile was slightly pixelated, but still obviously smug.

“YEP,” he said. “HAJIME WILL TELL YOU. HEY, IWA-CHAN! DIDN’T YOU PISS YOUR PANTS WHEN YOU WERE SIX?”

“Didn’t you piss your pants when you were seven?” Hajime returned, sliding in next to David, who eyed his outfit and whistled. “What?”

“Looking to pick someone up tonight, huh?” David suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. “I see ya, I see ya.”

“I DON’T SEE YA,” Tooru complained. “SHOW ME THE OUTFIT!”

David happily flipped the camera and stepped back to allow Tooru a full view of Hajime’s outfit; Hajime braced himself for the teasing that always happened in highschool when Tooru thought he might like a girl.

“Hm,” said Tooru. The cars whizzing past him made more noise now he’d gone silent. “I dunno..”

“Oh, now you talk at normal volume,” Hajime snarked. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“I DON’T LIKE IT,” Tooru sniffed.

“Aaaand he’s back to yelling.” Hajime stepped forward to take his phone back from David.

“PUT A HOODIE ON, YOU’LL GET COLD,” Tooru advised.

“It’s summer.”

“IT’S COLD IN CALIFORNIA.”

There was really no conceivable response to such a blatant lie; Hajime searched Tooru’s face for telltale signs of teasing, but he couldn’t spot the cheeky upturn of his friend’s smirk or playful tilt of his eyebrows. “Are you being for real?” he asked in Japanese.

“VERY,” Tooru replied, still in English.

“Very what?” asked David.

“VERY COLD,” said Tooru. “HOODIE, PLEASE, HAJIME. YOUR BLUE ONE WILL GO BEST WITH YOUR OUTFIT.”

“Yes, mother,” Hajime sighed, rolling his eyes. “Can we stop by my place on the way out?” he asked David.

“Sure,” said David, confused. “I’ve never seen you in a blue hoodie.”

“WHY NOT?” asked Tooru.

“You know why not,” Hajime told him.

“Well, Tara said she’ll meet us there, and Simon’s got the flu, so… let’s go?” David offered.

“Yeesh, I told him to rest up,” Hajime grumbled. “Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, David, Tara and Hajime were crowded around a small table in the corner of the bar, Tooru’s face looming large on Hajime’s screen as he yelled some story about volleyball practice over the bass rattling through the floor. Exhausted by his efforts in English, he’d gone back to his own unique blend of Japanese and Spanish, which Hajime only understood thanks to his own efforts on Duolingo over the past year. Hajime had also faithfully retrieved the requested hoodie on the way to the bar and was now wearing it – a CA San Juan merch hoodie with OIKAWA splashed across the back.

“Who’s Oikawa?” asked Tara.

“A volleyball player, surely,” said David.

Hajime couldn’t do anything but hum in agreement, trying to keep up with Tooru’s fast-paced anecdote.

“Why is he wearing a hoodie at all? It’s summer,” Tara pointed out.

“Tooru told him to,” said David.

“Ah, Tooru,” Tara nodded, like that explained everything.

On screen, Tooru had finally reached his destination and was signing off.

“Bye,” said Hajime in English.

“TE AMO!” said Tooru, waving madly.

“Whatever,” Hajime laughed, and hung up.

“Now, I don’t speak Spanish,” said Tara, “But that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. He’s just like that,” Hajime shrugged.

“How long has he been like that?” Tara asked.

“Our whole lives.”

“Sheesh,” Tara whistled, “That’s a long time to be pining away for.”

“Pining? Who’s pining?”

David winced and put his hand over Tara’s mouth. “She didn’t mean anything by that, Haji. Now, what’re we having to drink?”

“I did mean something by that. I meant A LOT by that,” Tara hissed as Hajime studied the menu.

“I can hear you,” Hajime informed her. “Though I am choosing not to engage.”

Tara jabbed a finger at him accusingly. “We are so discussing this when we get back home.”

“Sure, sure,” Hajime agreed.

They never did. They never even asked who Oikawa was again, writing him off as some player that only a ‘volleyball nerd’ like Hajime could’ve heard of. Tara good-naturedly watched some matches with him (to ‘tide him over until Tooru visits’, she insisted) and Simon let him hang merch in their dorm; all three of them went to cheer him on when he played for the university, but none of them understood what was so enchanting to Hajime about the sport. That side of volleyball was reserved for fast chatter over the phone late into the night, the comforting sounds of his mother tongue bouncing around whichever room he took the call into, usually the kitchen. Hanamaki called once, excitedly announcing that Matsukawa had managed to pirate a UC Irvine match and Hajime had looked ‘pretty cool for a guy with hair like that’ and Hajime had hung up immediately. Mostly he just texted his friends and his mom, and sent them pictures from the restaurant down the road he frequented with his friends.

No-one really knew him like Tooru did. No-one ever could, really.

“I’m too busy to talk for long,” Tooru said sadly, on the day that Hajime coincidentally had two finals and couldn’t speak for more than ten minutes.

“My train was cancelled,” Tooru complained, before Hajime could rant about his own cancelled bus.

“I’m going home for winter break,” Tooru told him on one of their daily phone calls, just at the exact moment Hajime had opened his mouth to say he was going home for his break.

“My flight was moved to Sunday,” Tooru huffed. Hajime smiled and flashed a ticket reading the same date.

My flight’s landing, came the text when Hajime was pulling his bag from luggage claim.

“HAJIME!” Tooru yelled, and this time it wasn’t through a screen, Hajime’s shitty phone speaker crackling over the familiar voice – this time Tooru’s obnoxious, loud, lilting call echoed embarrassingly through the airport, and Hajime wanted the ground to swallow him.

“Do you have to be so loud?” he complained, swinging around to face his friend as Tooru made his way towards him. “You could’ve just tapped my shoulder.”

“Nonsense,” said Tooru dismissively, grabbing Hajime’s arm. “I was too far away.”

“You could’ve waited. Or walked faster.”

“Impatient, impatient, as always. There’s no delicacy to you, Iwa.”

“Will you ever just pick a name?”

“Hm? Why, my dear Haji, would I ever do that~?”

“Whatever, freak. Let’s go.”

“You love meeeee-“

“I said, let’s go.”

“That wasn’t a noooooo-“

“Let’s GO.”

Tooru allowed Hajime to drag him out, stopping to rescue Tooru’s suitcase from the pile of similar sleek cases floating around baggage claim. Hajime didn’t even attempt to hand it to his friend, just grabbed the handle with the same arm his duffel bag was hanging from and kept walking.

Tooru waved cheerfully at the security guard. “He probably thinks I’m being kidnapped.”

“After your little show just before? No chance.”

“You mean when I dramatically shouted your name and you dragged me across an airport? There’s definitely a chance.”

“Either you think he’s stupid, or you’re stupid and just projecting.”

“Maybe we’re actually in a super intriguing relationship where you’re a mafia boss and I’m an innocent victim of your devilish good looks.”

“We’re not in any relationship, never mind an intriguing one,” Hajime snorted.

“I should change that,” Tooru mused.

“What?”

“I said, I SHOULD CHANGE THAT,” Tooru yelled into Hajime’s ear.

“OW, you fucker!” Hajime shook his head lightly to try and stop the ringing. “We’re unpacking that later. For now, you have to walk a meter away.”

“What? Whyyyyyyyyy?”

“Uh, maybe because you just burst my eardrum? Now shoo!”

Tooru sadly detached from Hajime’s arm and fell a few steps behind. “When are we gonna unpack that?” he called.

“When you stop being an ass!” Hajime called back.

Shittykawa

>> can we unpack it now lol

what about my eardrum tho <<

>> aww is iwachan hurty……

>> itll heal soon. probably

u better hope it does <<

>> so………

>> can we unpack it now

………. <<

fine. come over <<

“Hello, Mrs Iwaizumi!”

The familiar greeting made Hajime laugh a little from his spot on his bed, thinking of tiny Tooru Oikawa who used to bow the full ninety degrees to make sure his best friend’s mom would love him.

“Hello, dear,” Hajime’s mom greeted back. “Hajime’s upstairs.”

Hajime sat up and crossed his legs in anticipation.

“Thank you!” Tooru said, smile audible, as he began taking the stairs two at a time.

“Slow down,” Hajime called down to him through the doorway. “If you fall I’m not calling the ambulance.”

“Liar!” Tooru accused, bounding through the doorway with too much energy, as usual. “Your mom would never let me die.”

“My mom would swap me for you,” Hajime admitted, and shuffled back to make room on the bed. “Alright, loser. Come sit.”

“Yes, sir,” Tooru mock-saluted, and practically threw himself down on the mattress.

“I said sit, not flop,” Hajime complained, straightening the sheets.

“Whatever,” Tooru shrugged. “What’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine. Therefore, this is my bed.”

“What are we, married?” Hajime grumped.

The tips of Tooru’s ears turned red.

Hajime stared at him. “Are you serious right now.”

“It’s a cute concept!” Tooru defended. “Just because you’re an emotionless brute doesn’t mean all of us are insensitive.”

“So,” Hajime said in disbelief, “When you said you should change our relationship-“

“Yep, I meant it,” Tooru nodded.

What could Hajime even say to that?

“So, you –“

“Yes, Hajime,” Tooru said impatiently, “I like you like that, you big baby.”

“Since when were you the emotionally mature one?”

“Wow, Iwa. Haven’t I always been?”

“No.”

“Well, who was? It definitely wasn’t you.”

“It definitely was.”

Tooru sighed heavily. “So am I gonna get an answer?”

“An answer? To what?”

“Oh my goddddd,” Tooru complained. “I’m actually going to have to do this ....”

With as much grace as he could muster – which wasn’t a lot, given the situation – Tooru slid off the bed and landed on one knee.

Hajime raised an eyebrow. “I know we joked about it, but I’m not actually going to marry you.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do!!” Tooru squawked. “Just listen, will you?!”

“Sure,” Hajime said easily, leaning back. “Go for it.”

“Hajime Iwaizumi –“

“That’s me.”

“Let me finish!”

“Whatever you want, my liege.”

Tooru rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking annoying and I’m in love with you.”

“.... That’s it?”

“I had a whole speech but you ruined it,” Tooru pouted.

“You can save it for our wedding,” Hajime suggested.

Tooru stared at him. “What.”

“Do you suddenly not speak Japanese anymore?”

“No, I heard what you said, I just meant... is that a yes?”

“You haven’t actually asked me a question.”

Tooru genuinely looked like he was going to scream. “You make my life very difficult, Hajime.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tooru took a deep breath. “Do you wanna go out with me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

“I’ve already said that. Find your own lines.”

“There’s no agonising over your feelings? No shock when you discover you like men? No worries that our friendship will be ruined?”

“Should there be?”

“Um, yes?”

“Because that’s what you had?”

“Yes?”

“Well I’m not stupid like you, so.”

“I hate you.”

“Woah, divorce already?”

“Fuck you.”

“All in good time, dude.....”

Tooru mimed strangling him. Hajime cackled.

Shittykawa

>> i miss you already :(

uve only been away five minutes <<

>> ITS BEEN FIVE HOURS.

rly? feels like more <<

>> awwwww~~~~

>> you do love me!!!

>> 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

duh. <<

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