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koushisun · 16 days ago

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runnin' home to you

Iwaizumi x GN!Reader, reader and iwaizumi both graduated from UCI, sequel to - Where the Love Light Gleams -

WC: 2.7k - angst to fluff, getting back together

A/N: i wrote this almost 3.5 years ago and figured it was finally time to post it lmaooo

You have no idea how you ended up in this situation.

One minute, you were washing dishes peacefully in your apartment, and the next you were braving LA rush-hour traffic to pick up Oikawa from the airport.

After your break-up with Iwaizumi two months ago, you hadn’t really expected to see him again.

“Oikawa? What’s up? Is everything ok?” You were in the middle of washing dishes when your phone rang. After quickly drying your hands with a fluffy dish towel, you picked up the phone, only slightly confused at seeing Oikawa’s name.

You heard him gasp loudly through the phone. “Must something be wrong for me to call you?” You could picture him with his hand over his heart, dramatic as ever.

Rolling your eyes, you replied, “I guess not.” You moved away from the sink and over to your living room, plopping down on your couch. It was a… well-loved couch, one that you had thought of replacing many times, but kept for Hajime’s sake. He really seemed to love that worn, green sofa for some reason.

“Well anyway, I need you to come and pick me up from the airport,” Oikawa stated happily.

Your face scrunched up in confusion. “The airport?”

“I know you know what an airport is.”

“Obviously I know what an airport is, dumbass,” you scoffed. “I meant why are you at LAX? Shouldn’t you be in Argentina right now?” You put your feet up on the couch, hugging your knees close to you.

The last time you had seen Oikawa was well before you and Hajime broke up.

You hear him sigh. “Just come get me and we can keep talking after that. Okay?”

“Fine. But I live out in Anaheim so you’re gonna have to wait at least 45 minutes.” You glance at the time on your phone. “Make that an hour. Maybe more.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. How is this happening to you? All you wanted was to move on from your breakup in peace. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently.

“See you then!”

—

You and Oikawa sit in your car, a tense yet awkward silence enveloping the space. The radio is humming quietly, the bright guitar chords the only thing keeping you sane at that moment.

“So…” Oikawa begins. You mentally brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say. “Why exactly did you and Iwa break up?”

Your grip on the steering wheel turns your knuckles white. “I can’t imagine Hajime didn’t tell you already.”

“Oh, no, he did,” Oikawa states. “I just want to hear your perspective.” He turns to look out the window. The sun had already set, the city lights the only thing left to light up the twilight. The yellow of the streetlights casts the car in an amber glow.

You let out a deep sigh. “Well, I’m not really sure how much there is to tell.” You purse your lips before continuing, “I didn’t want to break up. Hajime did. We talked about it, and he got what he wanted.”

“Ok.” His eyes flick over to you. “Is that really all there is to it?”

Somehow, you feel like Oikawa is testing you. On what, you don’t know. “We tried long distance.”

He hums, nodding you along.

“Hajime said he felt guilty asking me to wait for him.” You nearly whisper the words, and you wonder if Oikawa could even hear you. You speak up. “He said he didn’t want to keep me waiting when there was no guarantee we would get to be together in the future.” Your grip on the steering wheel remains firm, the grooves of leather digging into your palm. “I got angry with him. I still am angry with him. It felt like he was just giving up on us.”

“Let me ask you this,” Oikawa says. He locks his eyes on you, and though you can’t look at him, you feel his gaze burning into your skin. “How far would you go for him?”

You feel your anger dissolve, floating off into the night. “For Hajime?” You question, eyes soft as you stare out at the road ahead of you. “For him, I would go anywhere.” You feel a bittersweet smile rest on your face. “And maybe that’s naive of me, but it’s the truth.”

Oikawa smiles in return. “I don’t think that’s naive at all.” He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I literally left Japan to play volleyball in Argentina. I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time, but I don’t think I could ever regret it.” He turns his attention to the night sky.

Your voice is soft as you say, “I offered to follow him, y’know.”

The words linger in the air, resting warm but heavy on the two of you.

“I know.”

—

“You want me to do what?”

Oikawa leans back in his chair, laughing. “I want you to go see Iwa-chan in Miyagi!”

The two of you sit at your dinner table, his laptop open in front of the two of you. The slightly cracked screen shows a list of flights from LAX to Sendai, all set to arrive by December 23rd. Oikawa must’ve lost his damn mind.

“Are you actually stupid—that's like, a month away.”

His smile grows wider. “I’ll choose to ignore your hurtful words. But hey, that’s plenty of time to buy your plane ticket!”

You pause for a moment, nervously searching his eyes before sighing. “Why are you doing this?”

Oikawa’s cheerful expression softens, turning a touch more serious. “You said you would go anywhere for Iwa.” He leans towards you. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course I did.”

He leans back, a gentle smile on his face. “Then go chase your dream.”

—

You’re glad to be off the plane; a full ten and a half hours of sitting still is not your idea of fun. You make a mental note to book a session with your chiropractor when you get back to California.

You drag your suitcase behind you, scanning the crowd for Matsukawa. You’ve never actually met him in person, though you had talked to him a few times when Hajime video-called his old friends. You spot him leaning against the wall just outside of baggage claim; he’s taller than you thought he would be, though you suppose it makes sense given that he used to play volleyball.

“Matsukawa-san!” You greet him with a smile.

He kicks off the wall and reaches out for your suitcase. You let him take it but keep your backpack with you. “Nice to finally meet you in person,” he says, adjusting his grip on your luggage. “I'm parked not too far from here.” He nods towards the door and you follow behind him as he exits the terminal. “How was the flight?” He asks.

“Eh.” You shrug. “It was about as good as it could be, I guess.” You’re suddenly grateful for all the time you spent learning Japanese, both for Hajime and for fun. The words still feel foreign in your mouth, though you manage to get through your response without too much trouble. Hopefully, you haven't gotten too rusty in the past few months.

Matsukawa chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not exactly an easy trip.” You walk in silence for a few minutes before finding his car and beginning the drive to his apartment.

“Y’know,” he says, glancing at you briefly. “I’m glad you agreed to come.”

“You are?”

Matsukawa sighs before replying, “Hajime wanted to do what he thought was best for you. Even if that meant hurting you and him both. The ends justified the means.” He flicks on his blinker. “He misses you.”

You can’t make yourself look at him, so you content yourself with looking at your fidgeting hands. “I would certainly hope so,” you mutter. “It would make this whole trip a little awkward if he didn’t.”

“Well,” Matsukawa chuckles, “you’re not wrong about that.” He comes to a stop at a red light. “Hajime’s never given up easily. I’ve known him for years now, and I don’t think he’s ever backed down from a challenge,” he says. “He hates losing, but he hates giving up even more.” he glances at you for no more than a moment, but his knowing gaze burns you all the same.

You don’t respond for a moment. Then, “I thought I knew a lot of things about Hajime.” You pick at your nails, grimacing when you pull a hangnail a bit too far. “But I’m not sure what I know anymore.” You shake your head, willing the thoughts away. They could wait for another time. “Anyways,” you redirect, “why don’t you tell me more about Hanamaki-san! I’m excited to meet him.”

Matsukawa snorts, responding, “What do you want to know?”

—

Matsukawa’s apartment was surprisingly clean. You had seen your fair share of bachelor pads back in California, and they were almost never this neat. Not to say you didn’t welcome his apparent cleanliness; it was a nice surprise, really.

The kitchen was an absolute mess, though.

“Hey! Issei!” You jump a bit when a head pops around the corner—you can only assume the mystery man is Hanamaki. His strawberry blond hair is dusted with flour and, once he moves into the hallway, you can see he is wearing a frilly blue apron that is absolutely caked with who knows what.

You had no idea it was possible to get that messy in the kitchen.

“Hiro!” Matsukawa walks further into the apartment with you following closely behind. “What the hell happened to my kitchen?” He asks, more confused than angry.

“I made us all dinner, obviously.”

“Fuck that,” Matsukawa deadpans, “we’re ordering take-out.”

Hanamaki pouted at the taller male, whining, “Aww come on, man! I promise you won’t get food poisoning this time!”

Well, that’s not concerning at all.

“Do you want your usual?” Matsukawa is resolutely ignoring his friend at this point. Hanamaki doesn’t answer, choosing to grab a plate of the food he prepared. “I’ll take that as a yes. Do you want me to just order for you?” He asks, turning to you.

“Oh, uh,” you begin, “I wouldn’t want to upset Hanamaki-san!” As worried as you are for your immune system, you still don’t want to turn down someone’s hospitality.

“He’ll be fine,” Matsukawa says, eyes shining with amusement. “Hiro just started watching this cooking competition and now he thinks he’s God’s gift to the culinary arts.” He continued typing on his phone. “Last time he tried to make something, we both got food poisoning; let me tell you, it was not a fun time.”

In the end, you decide to play it safe and let Matsukawa order you food. Though you did graciously (and perhaps a bit stupidly) let Hanamaki feed you a sample of his dinner.

It was pretty gross.

“So, Hanamaki,” you started up some conversation as you waited for the delivery to arrive, “what do you do for work?” You notice Matsukawa’s smile as Hanamaki finishes chewing his food.

“I’m sort of in between jobs right now,” he admits. “But I just had a job interview for the Sendai Aquarium, so I’m hoping that’ll work out.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck!”

Your eyes flit between Hanamaki and Matsukawa as you try to piece together their dynamic. They seem really close. How do they make it work? Hanamaki is such a free spirit, and Matsukawa seems much more grounded. Of course, they’ve known each other for a long time, and they certainly have things in common, but what makes it so easy for them to stay together?

And why wasn’t it that easy for you and Hajime?

“I’m not gonna ask about you and Iwa,” Hanamaki’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, “but I will say this: sometimes, it’s best to just go with the flow. Shit happens, y’know? I mean it’s not like Issei and I always get along. We just keep trying. So, just see where this takes you.”

You let that sink in for a moment. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” You give him a small smile. “Thanks, Hanamaki.”

—

On the frigid morning of December 24th, you stand on the front step of Iwaizumi’s childhood home. He had moved back in with his parents when he returned to Japan six months ago, hoping to save up money and move to Tokyo.

You feel your heart squeeze in your chest as you knock on the door. The ensuing silence is almost suffocating despite the winter wind chilling your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the soft scuffing of socked feet on the wooden floor inside.

The door opens to reveal Hajime in a faded UC Irvine hoodie and dark grey sweatpants. The hoodie was one you had given him for his birthday two years back, and the sight makes tears rise, unbidden.

“Hey, Hajime,” you whisper. You wear a ghost of a smile, your eyes drinking in his form.

He says your name, obviously confused. “What are you doing here?” His eyes are wide, and he ushers you in from the cold. He takes your jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. “I thought you said you were going home for Christmas?” You can see the concern in his dark brown eyes.

Your voice is thick as you reply, “I am home.”

Hajime stills for a moment before his face crumples and he cries, pulling you into a warm embrace. You bury your face in his sweatshirt, comforted by the familiar scent of his cologne. When he finally pulls away, he asks, “How long are you here for?”

You slide off your shoes, answering, “I go back in two weeks.” He nods, leading you into the living room. “Hajime.” You call. He turns to look at you, your hands held firmly in his.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk about what happened,” you say firmly, but not unkindly. He nods silently, walking to the couch. It’s plush and comfortable, and the two of you sink down into the cushions, a safe distance away from one another.

“I know you had your reservations about this, but I’m going to move to Japan.” You squeeze his hands. “I told someone recently that I would chase my dream. And I meant it.” You look into his eyes, hoping he could feel your sincerity. “I’m going to be here for this Christmas, and every other Christmas after that.” A shaky breath. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“You know I want that too.” His eyes are watery, and his hands hold yours in a firm grip. “Of course I do. But I can’t ask you to uproot your whole life for me. That’s just not fair.”

“Hajime.” You pull a single hand out of his hold and guide his face to look at you. “You’re not asking me to give up anything. I’m telling you this because it’s what I want.” He leans his face into your hand. A stray tear makes its way down his tan skin and you gently wipe it away. “If I didn’t want this, I’d be sitting on my shitty green couch in California, not here right now with you.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you, ok? I want to be with you—I don’t care if that’s here or California, or anywhere else in the world. And that’s my choice. Not yours, not anyone else’s—mine.”

Neither of you say anything for a while, simply sitting and basking in the other’s presence.

“You know,” Hajime’s voice cuts through the silence and you open your eyes to see his dark brown ones staring at you intently, “I happen to really like that ‘shitty green couch,’ thank you very much.” A teasing grin sneaks on his face and you can’t help but laugh.

“Not really sure why, but whatever.” You shake your head, grateful the atmosphere lightened up. Your hands are still intertwined, and though his palm is a bit sweaty, you’re grateful for the reminder that he’s really here with you. “So, will you let me stay?”

His smile grows. “Nothing would make me happier.”

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #kris writes #thank you to my friends who read this #back when i first wrote it and now!#arell if u see this in the tags ilysm <3333

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