Of Godzilla and the Night Sky - Iwaizumi x reader
Finally done - tagging @shoulmate and @emmyrosee because for some reason Osamu had to play wingman in this one - come get your man
It helps that Miya Osamu is roughly your age.
“Please,” you say, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I’m a quick learner!”
He eyes you for a moment. His face does not tell you anything and you suppose you can’t fault him for saying no. You’ve got no experience waiting tables and he’s not exactly looking for an employee.
“You can start tomorrow,” he agrees finally. “Do you have some time to go over everything right now or are you willing to come in earlier tomorrow?”
“I don’t have to be anywhere right now,” you stutter around and he nods, beckons you behind the counter.
This is how it starts. This is how it ends.
You’ve paid off your publisher instead of writing the last novel in your contract.
You’re free but without a job, almost all your savings have gone toward that freedom.
You’ve got no proper training but the almost forgotten two weeks you spent photocopying papers in your father's office when you were fourteen.
Maybe you’ve written too many romance books, have searched for too many signs where there had been none given, but the glowing sign of an Onigiri shop had called you in like a beacon in the stormy sea called life.
-
“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You greet with a friendly smile. Atsumu throws an arm around you and pulls you in.
“This is what I was talking about!” He calls out to his brother. “No one wants to see your ugly face when they come in. This is a smile that makes me want to eat.”
“Gross,” Sakusa mutters right behind him but while his mask hides his mouth, you can tell by his eyes that he sends you a smile.
Most of Atsumu’s team comes by at least once a week. High on adrenaline after a win, for team bonding, as Meian calls it, or just to lick their wounds after a particularly nasty loss. They’re not easy, with Atsumu, Hinata and Bokuto all fighting for your attention while Inunaki keeps ribbing and teasing whoever he can get to. But they’re still under your favorite customers and sometimes, when the ruckus dies down a little, Sakusa comes to sit at the bar, mask put away, and asks about your day. You know Osamu thinks he likes you and Atsumu constantly tries to set the two of you up on a date.
But you know better.
“How’s moving going?” You ask when Sakusa takes a seat at the bar, far away from where the rest of his teammates are trying to drink each other under the table.
Sakusa smiles softly. “It’s going well, thank you. But I’ve come to loathe the feeling of cardboard boxes. It’s disgusting.”
You laugh. “You are very particular in your likes and dislikes, aren’t you?”
He cocks his head to the side as if waiting for something. You sigh. “But you have great taste.” You add and he smiles smugly.
Ever since you met his girlfriend - and was sworn to secrecy by him right after - he’s come to collect that particular comment almost every time the two of you talk.
“But enough about me,” He eyes the counter for a second before placing his elbows on the surface and leaning in. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing okay,” you tell him sincerely. “Osamu pays well and I don’t have that many expenses. I keep going like this I should be fine.”
“Hmm,” he eyes you suspiciously. “But you miss writing?”
You tense, throwing a look over his shoulder to check for people listening in. But they are still absorbed in their drinking game.
“I’m not… I miss the rush of it when the story would just… flow out of me. But I don’t have anything to tell right now and I don’t want to sit at my desk for hours staring at an empty document. That’s… That’s worse than cleaning the bathrooms after someone had the spicy Onigiri’s.”
Sakusa pulls a face but he nods, understanding. “I’m sure it will come back. But it’s good that you don’t have to rush anything, right?”
You smile. Yeah. It’s good. Life’s good.
-
“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You greet with a smile, hoping against hope that the nervous beating of your heart does not show on your face.
Atsumu reaches you first, slinging an arm around you before bounding off towards their table. There’s Hinata and Bokuto who hug you, Kageyama and Ushijima who nod at you in greeting, before Sakusa winks at you and steps aside to let Iwaizumi greet you.
The smile on his face makes your stomach flip a little but you keep your smile in place.
“Good to see you could come in again,” you tell him. He pulls you into a hug, warm and comforting, his scent washing over you like a wave of fondness.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he whispers into your ear before he pulls away again.
“Come on, Coach!” Atsumu calls from the table, “We’re hungry!”
“Tell your brother then!” Hoshiumi crows right before Suna yells “Samu!” through the restaurant.
“Yeez, I’m here!” Osamu calls out from the kitchen. “And I’m not deaf, have some manners, will ya?!”
Iwaizumi takes his place at the table. It’s no coincidence that you come to stand right next to him to take their orders. It hasn’t been that long since they come in regularly after Friday’s training, Japan Men’s National Volleyball Team taking up most of the available space. It’s no loss in profit to keep the restaurant reserved for their team meetings and you’ve certainly enjoyed yourself ever since the first time Sakusa ventured over, Iwaizumi in tow, to introduce the two of you.
You like him. A lot, actually. There’s a warmth in his eyes that you seems to increase every time he looks at you. His interest in you is calm but sincere, and he remembers even the small things you mention offhandedly - like how you were worried that the plants you own could be poisonous to the kitten you found on the street or how your favorite brand of coffee has been discontinued. You like that he takes things slowly but is never careless about the meaning of his words. You wish, for the first time in forever, that you could write a story that feels like him.
…
“Can I walk you home?” Iwaizumi asks as the team’s clearing out. You’re disinfecting the table, almost jerking up from surprise.
“I… uh…” You throw a look at Osamu who grins.
“Go,” he insists. “I can take care of this.”
You live barely fifteen minutes away and while you’ve longed for a shorter distance on particularly rainy days, you loathe the shortness of your walk tonight. Iwaizumi’s warmth seems to seep into you just from walking next to him. His laugh vibrates through the air in a way you can almost see.
“I used to paint doors,” you recall as you walk, not really sure what question of his got you to this answer, “Hoping I’d be able to open them and step into different worlds.”
“Do you like that idea?” He asks, “To step out of this world, to get away?”
“Not necessarily to get away. It’s more like… What’s out there, you know?”
He nods slowly, eyes straight ahead. You wait, trusting the time he takes to think.
“When I was a kid, I used to capture Cicada’s. But I always let them go again. I felt sorry for them, I think, because their life’s so short anyway.”
“But you still caught them.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, rubs his neck awkwardly, “What does that say about you?”
“I don’t know, but… maybe you knew that they did not belong to you, but you still wanted to hold on to them for a moment. Like friends? We don’t own them, they don’t belong to us, but we still wish we could keep them close.”
“That’s a weird analogy,” Iwaizumi teases you and you can’t help but laugh about it. “Yeah, but it’s late, so I’ll blame it on that.”
Your apartment block appears in front of you. You stop, not wanting the time to end. A small white face appears in your living room window, peering down at you.
“Do you own a ghost?” Iwaizumi asks and you laugh. “No, that’s my kitten. She’s got a black body and a white head, so I named her Onigiri.”
It’s his turn to laugh. “You are quite creative with names. But I guess Onigiri wants you to come inside, so I won’t keep you any longer.”
It’s as awkward as it is not, to stand in front of each other, unsure on how to say goodbye. It’s Iwaizumi. It’s Iwaizumi.
When he hugs you, you wish he would have kissed you but you still sink into his arms like you always do, trying to imprint his warmth into your skin to last you until next Friday.
…
That night you can’t fall asleep.
Around midnight you find yourself in front of your computer, typing away, too tired to really think about the words flowing from your fingertips. But there are cicadas and little boys and doors leading to nowhere and everywhere at all.
-
“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You burst out, a little breathless from running. Just seconds ago you’d been helping Myamura in the backroom when the bell over the door alerted you of new customers. Iwaizumi’s grinning and you can feel your own lips pull into a wide smile at his sight, your hands already moving to grasp his.
“I’ve got something for you!” You tell him before you can back out, glad that he came in alone today, just like you hoped he would. After all, it’s not Friday.
“Really? But I have nothing for you-” He starts, breaking off when you come back. “Is that a book?”
“Yes. Well, a manuscript, you could say. I wanted you to read it first. It’s a little silly and I might not sell it after all, because, you know, the whole thing about Godzilla-”
“You didn’t?!” His voice flips a little, his eyes wide. “You really wrote that silly little thing I mentioned?”
“Not silly at all!” You promise, still beaming. “I’m still working on a title, but I think “My best friend Godzilla” is a strong contender.”
Before you can react, think, feel even, Iwaizumi pulls you into a crushing hug. Your head sinks against his shoulder like it’s an instinct, like your body instantly knows where it belongs.
You could have stayed there longer, warm and safe in his embrace, if not for Osamu pointedly clearing his throat behind you.
“Oh, shit, sorry,” you pull back, “I was supposed to help Myamura.”
“Are you staying?” Osamu asks Iwaizumi over your head, handy busy as he speaks. Iwaizumi shakes his head and you feel your heart drop a little before he turns back to you with an apologetic smile.
“I’ll see you on Friday. I’ll try to finish the book until then.”
“Oh, you don’t have-”
“I do.” He leans forward, pressing his lips against your temple in a move bolder than anything else he’s done before. You freeze and when he pulls away, his face is flushed and his voice hoarse as he bids you goodbye.
Osamu’s sending you a look that you pointedly ignore, skipping down the hallway to where Myamura’s waiting for you. Your heart’s somewhere in Iwaizumi’s back pocket, beating as fast as a hummingbirds wing as it follows him wherever he goes.
-
“Closing up?” Iwaizumi’s voice reaches you where you’re currently wiping the tables, exhaustion pulling on your limbs. His voice is soft and filled with warmth and something else you can only hear when he talks to you.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, surprise evident in your voice. The doors should have been closed already.
“Osamu let me in,” he explains, stepping closer and pulling you into a hug. You sink into the embrace, the way he holds you threatening to put you to sleep.
“What are you doing here, though?” You ask again, trying to fight the exhaustion. “It’s not even Friday yet.”
“I finished the book. I wanted to talk to you about it.”
“Oh?” You pull back, anxiety filling your stomach. Suddenly you’re no longer tired.
His smile sets you at ease. It’s that small smile he gets when he’s proud of something but doesn’t want to boast about it. You’ve seen it happen a lot with the team but never directed at you, never like this.
“Well, I… uh…” You turn around, trying to figure out what else you’ve got to do before you can call it a night.
“You can go home,” Osamu’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m your boss,” he points out, voice much too warm for his choice of words, “Go before I reconsider.”
…
“I never thought I’d get to read a story about a bitter Biologist who befriends Godzilla and learns to love humankind again because of that friendship.”
You laugh. “But you put that idea in my head. Why is it so surprising?”
“Oh, don’t put this on me!” Iwaizumi puts a hand on his heart as he walks and it looks so much like Atsumu’s usual antics that you can’t help but giggle even as he talks on. “I only said it would be cool to see humans from Godzilla’s point of view. You created everything around it.”
“What was the best part?” You ask, nudging his side with your elbow. “Of the story?”
To your surprise he falls quiet, staring up into the night. You can’t see any stars through the fog of millions of streetlights, but somewhere above you they still exist. You look up as well, hoping to find what he’s looking for, hoping to find some calm when your heart’s still beating much too fast, much too far away.
“I might butcher it, but I want to quote it.” He starts and your mouth turns dry when he looks at you like that, like he’s found the stars in your eyes instead of the night sky. “I saw the world as black and white before I met you. Too many wrongs and not enough rights, as if the world had turned into a night sky and one has to squint to make out the little shimmering dots of good in the blackness of bad. But you turned the night into morning, black into the soft lavender hues of a sun rising.”
“Hajime,” you breathe out and his lips pull into a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s wide and daring but softer than anything you’ve ever seen before.
“I love your book,” he says, voice strong and confident now, “Because you put into words what I felt but didn’t know how to explain. And you told me how you felt too.”
“I-I did?”
His hands take yours, his skin warm, his hold strong. There’s something like amusement shimmering in his eyes.
“Somewhere in the middle of the book you messed up. Our bitter Biologist was suddenly named Hajime. I can believe some coincidences but not this one.”
You swallow thickly. He pulls you forward and you sink into him like it was always meant to be. His lips press against your temple and you wonder, not for the first time, how one step to the left can lead you down the right path all along.
my Kofi if you want to tip me
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