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tsuumu · 4 years ago

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hq boys and their part time jobs.

yet another unseries headcanon post made by yours truly! unlike my last one which you can find here, i won’t be involving every single major hq character so that’s just a heads up!! i can’t always envision stuff fully with every single person...

kageyama tobio: this boy thought that applying to work part-time at a sports shop would be fitting ‘cause of his love for volleyball, completely unaware that this would involve way too much social interaction and tolerance???? like he thought he’d just have to look like someone who does sports and occasionally restock yoga mats but these loud ass kids are coming up to him asking for this that and the other for sports he’s never heard of. suddenly he regrets the entire thing. plus, he has no idea how to use the cash register and it’s his worse nightmare to ring up items without wanting to stomp a hole into it to get the customer’s change.

hinata shoyo: shoyo went straight for the pet shelter because he’s in love with playing with the little puppies. this boy will full on roll around with them, stuff them under his shirt so their heads poke out and just.. intergrate and become one of them... the doggies love him so much n always clamber to sit on his lap because hinata treats them with so much love and kindness!! customers looking for pets often joke about taking him home bc he’s just as excitable and friendly as the actual dogs. he’s also really good at convincing people on the fence to get a pet and explaining their individual personalities because he knows them so well :(

nishinoya yuu: he said: supermarket assistant so he could ride around on the carts, intimidates literally every customer with his ungodly enthusiasm but is determined to help EVERYONE, he’ll run around the store taking people where they need to go but only if he actually remembers where they’re situated. otherwise this boy is like “yeah they’re just... that way.” and bolts in the other direction. gets along with all his colleagues and tells them all about his tournaments with karasuno. he’s not the star employee but it wouldn’t be the same w out him.. often asks the manager if he can taste test the market’s pastry section to which he is rejected every single time.

tanaka ryuu: he’s convinced working in his local gym was him in his element, he wears that tag thing like a badge of honour and just walks around showing people he works there instead of actually doing his job??? he’s also overly enthusiastic and will sometimes cheer on the people working out as if he’s some kind of zealous personal trainer and everybody is like “literally how old is this guy??” he’s surprisingly awesome at reception duty because he’s always chatting to regulars about how they’re doing... the practical side like schedules and paperwork he leaves for someone else, everyone just puts up with him bc he’s a mood setter.

sugawara koushi: don’t get me started on this boy as a teacher’s assistant, like he helps little kids out with their work, tidies up the class during their break times and reads them stories?? he’s THAT senior boy who’s the biggest sweetheart and seeing him handle kids so well is like ... does he want some of his own ?? i’d like to offer my expertise he’s always got a smile on his face, gets along with all the staff much older than him, he’s like this perfect boy they all dote on and he gets super flustered saying he just really likes helping out the children and making them smile. often brings them little snacks too and they all call him big brother BYE.

tsukkishima kei: he does some low-key shit that’s kinda wholesome like working with the eldery or tutoring kids but prefers for literally nobody to know about it because anything he does outside of school is his business. he does it because it’s good pay, there’s not much else to it. if anybody found out he’d be super irritated tbh it’s just an invasion of privacy to him but eventually wouldn’t care because every kid is getting part-time jobs these days.

oikawa tooru: bye he’s THAT guy who got his job at a retail store because he’s pretty. like he has no real interest in clothes or anything but he takes the job as a place to validate himself when girls come up to him purposefully to flirt. he’s winking and laughing with them and also NOT actually doing his job but he brings in customers so at least he’s somewhat useful. doesn’t know how to fold clothes or hang stuff on hangers properly for shit and everyone lowkey wants to kick his ass but he’s actually very friendly and outgoing even if he has no clue what he’s doing. keeps asking if bra sizes come in small, medium and large and everyone just tells him to shut up.

iwaizumi hajime: when picking a job he was like “well what am i good at?” and went from there. he ended up as the local pool’s weekend lifeguard because he had the qualifications and time. again, everyone his age just tries to hit on him and he’s annoyed because it distracts him from the actual purpose of his job. he takes it seriously and impresses his colleagues with his swimming talent and knowledge on first aid. iwaizumi lowkey scares the little kids and they’re kind of afraid to ask him for help so he’s been working on looking a little more friendly.

kuroo tetsurou: kuroo as a tennis instructor assistant or just something sporty other than volleyball because he’s a multi-talented king?? like he’s not a professional by any means but he helps out the youth club and gets along with kids a few years younger than him. fills in for refs at tournaments, makes sure equipment is safe to use and is SUPER good at cheering club goers up when they lose or fail or can’t seem to do it correctly. he often refers to his experiences as nekoma’s captain to relate to them and they really admire his resilience and ask him to tell them more stories!!

kenma kozume: had to be dragged out to do a part-time job. was absolutely against the thought of it until hinata mentioned a friend of his who’d moved to the prefecture near kenma got a job at this new game shop. he was like fine and applied. he just kinda sat and people asked him questions about the games but he refused to do any further socialisation or actual grunt work like shelving, he quit pretty soon after, he just wanted the money to buy a game he ended up purchasing on his way out lmaoo

bokuto koutarou: he was dead set on having a volleyball related job, fukurodani have a club for junior players from all over the city to come and practice together. he was like?!? “and nobody told me??” he’s perfect for it as the captain and ends up as a secondary coach. he shows off A LOT and like kuroo, encourages the kids when they’re down. except kuroo is a more sit down, hand on shoulder, casual talk kind of guy. bokuto gets ridiculously sentimental and tells them dramatically about his lowest memories as captain when fukurodani lost and the kids are genuinely as emotional because of he way he tells it??? idk but they love him and he’s a ball of passion that keeps them going.

akaashi keiji: we are talking pretty waiter at a local gormet restaurant that gets tipped SO MUCH for his true professionalism. knows how to handle every situation with ease and is super calm, doesn’t care at all if someone from his school is there. he’s really just chasing that bag and he’s doing it well. bokuto often picks him up after his shifts so they can do stuff together but akaashi requests it be something calming since he’s tired after work... bokuto is like,, “so no to rock-climbing? alright i’ll reschedule..” the other waiters lowkey HATE the fact he gets tipped so well and they try and figure out his secrets. he has none. he’s just good at his job. i could see kiyoko working a similar job or somewhere lowkey like a flourist or bakery. she’s equally as professional and admired.

ushijima wakatoshi: ANY JOB. give this man any job and he’ll be able to carry it out like he’s been doing it since he popped out the womb. often mistaken for a grown adult so he gets jobs pretty easily? very very professional and aims to do everything perfectly. i think he’d also prefer a vb related job just like bokuto but something that could really get him somewhere big, smth to do with olympics like a paid internship for them .. can you even intern for the olympics lmao?? maybe something for the japanese team. it’s a lot of work to balance school & intern life but he’s very comitted and knows it’ll benefit him in the future. (kageyama was fuming when he found out he could have done that instead of his current gig).

tendou satori: has a job he’s very under-qualified for but somehow pulls off. he’s chilling at the hospital or law firm three times a week after classes or somewhere ridiculous but he’s doing just fine!! doesn’t actually do professional work n helps with small things but it impresses the hell out of everybody he tells, has no interest in persuing those careers but it’s fun for him, he gets paid VERY well for a boy his age and his personality creates a nice, talkative atmosphere in these seemingly tense environments.

miya atsumu / osamu: they both work at a café for novelty because they’re these handsome, athletic twins and it’s a thing that brings people in. they do a lot of fan service stuff and osamu is EXCELLENT like he was made for this job but atsumu is awful at keeping his cool. osamu will be chatting up customers, trying to persuade them to order more and atsumu is having a heated tustle with the coffee machine that’s broken down for the third time that day and it really ruins the magic osamu is trying to create. atsumu has probably sworn loudly. has probably almost been fired. he’s bad at playing along and flirting because he literally just wants them to leave so he can sit down lmao. osamu uses the pastries in the café as inspiration for his own at-home baking fiascos because it’s a stress-reliving hobby.

terushima yuji: he’s that boy in shoe shops that tries to sell you sneakers and he knows literally everything about them even when you really didn’t ask... looking to hit on girls that come in because shoe knowledge is obviously very sexy! alternatively you might catch him in a tattoo shop or sumn real appearance based and he definitely remembers all the regulars and greets them like they’re close friends, we’re talking inside jokes. always seems to know what tattoo people are looking to get purely based on their appearance and initial impression...

the list of unemployed:

yachi: too scared to do ANY job that requires interaction, she’s plagued by it.

hoshiumi: fired for picking too many fights with customers.

kyotani: EVEN WORSE THAN HOSHIUMI though he was strangely very efficient at paperwork.

suna: quit on the first day because it wasn’t what he expected and he doesn’t care about money that much.

lev: his family are like.... rich?? n nobody really expected it but he’s like yeah i really do not need one of those lmao.

yamaguchi: broke things, spilt things, smashed things. he really was trying his best..

aone: intimidated customers too much so they let him go (he was just STANDING THERE.. he deserved better).

sakusa: local venues are filthy, ushijima got the internship spot, no other job interests him enough to persue.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu fics #haikyuu x reader #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu headcanon #kageyama headcanons #hinata headcanons #oikawa headcanons #kuroo headcanons #hq #i’m lazy with tags lol #bokuto headcanons #ushijima headcanons #kenma headcanons #good enough

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findingschmomo · 7 years ago

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[IwaOi] And All the Prince’s Men Part III - Mourning

Title: And All the Prince’s Men Pairings: IwaOi, side KageHina Rating: T Genre: Royal AU, Implied references to suicide, Angst, Friendship

Oikawa rushes toward the dagger, prying it out and shoving it back in with the desperate obsessiveness of a man who has lost everything.

Links: AO3

Iwaizumi Hajime pets the horse with a soft smile, threading his fingers through her dark mane. She whinnies at him softly, dipping her head into his cupped hand to lick up the oats. He lets out a breathy laugh at the feeling, “You like that, Pumpkin?”

The June sun is high in the sky above him, but the overhang on the stables provides him enough shade to make the heat bearable. He dips inside his pocket for a few more oats for the lady. She nuzzles into his hand as thanks for his services. He pats her head.

“You spoil her, Iwaizumi,” comes a chuckle from behind him.

Iwaizumi turns around, bowing deeply in the same motion, “Good afternoon, sire.”

Oikawa nods at him, eyes clouded. He gives him his princely smile, “Spending time with the horses, today?”

Iwaizumi straightens up, keeping his eyes on the horse instead of Oikawa, “Just checking on her during my break.” He hesitates a moment, wondering if this is the end of the conversation, but despite better judgement continues, “I have not seen you for a while.”

“I was visiting Shiratorizawa,” Oikawa responds, stepping over to a beautiful white mare. His favorite, Iwaizumi knows. The one he prefers to ride. The one he prefers to dress himself. He pets her mane before readying to take her out.

“How was your trip?” Iwaizumi asks, fingers digging into his horse’s mane.

“Fine. Going over the last few details for things.” Oikawa sighs, helping the horse out of her stall once he’s got her reigns on. She’s magnificent. He’s magnificent, next to her. Dressed in his riding uniform, pristine white pants and dark thick boots, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Iwaizumi keeps his gaze on Pumpkin.

“Right. It’s soon isn’t?” Iwaizumi swallows.

“Yeah,” Oikawa mounts, looking out toward the open gate, “Once Ushiwaka-chan turns 18 in August.”

Iwaizumi nods. The horse shakes her head, uncomfortable with his tight grip. He loosens it, removing his hand entirely from her, “Ah.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Oikawa murmurs, before kicking his horse into a trot, leaving the stables with not even a second glance.

Iwaizumi watches him go, turning to press his forehead against the wooden post of the stall. He lets out a frustrated sigh. Why is it not easier? Four years and it’s still not even a slight bit easier. He doesn’t understand it. He can’t comprehend it.

He takes in a calming breath, steels himself for the rest of the day.

He heads back to the barracks. There are young trainees running around, sparring between each other as instructors shout. He smiles at them, stepping over to a lonely girl and offering to spar with her. It’s a nice distraction. The girl’s form is good, she simply lacks training, and Iwaizumi is happy playing target practice for a few hours.

He passes the time between the trainees, lending the instructors a hand as he goes. It’s nice being in the castle grounds and not off on assignment. Though he knows he’ll be sent somewhere else soon enough. He wonders where he’ll be going next. Hopefully something more exciting then babysitting a noble taking a trip to the countryside.

Iwaizumi hears a familiar gruff voice fill his ears with shouting. He sighs, handing back his wooden sword to one of the trainees, and giving a small wave. He heads to the source of the sound, unsurprised by what he finds.

Kyoutani has Yahaba up against the wall, snarling expletives at the smug face the other man is wearing. Iwaizumi lets out a sigh, “Kyoutani!” he barks.

Kyoutani releases Yahaba, who dusts himself off calmly in turn.

“He’s spying on us.” Kyoutani accuses, “I know it.”

“He’s not spying on us.” Iwaizumi sighs, “There’s nothing to spy on. We’re all on the same side here. Also you’ve known each other for years! When’s this nonsense gonna stop?”

“I think it’s how he shows his affection,” Yahaba offers with a teasing smile.

“Fuck off,” Kyoutani growls, throwing a punch that Yahaba dodges easily.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, “Enough, already. Yahaba, stop egging him on.”

“Fine, fine.” Yahaba replies, “How are you, Iwaizumi? It’s nice to see you again.”

“Good as always, not much to complain about, other than wrangling him.” Iwaizumi adds with a playful smirk. Kyoutani growls, crossing his arms.

Yahaba giggling into his hand, “Thank you for your service.”

Iwaizumi snorts. He scratches at the back of his neck, hesitating before asking, “How was Shiratorizawa? That’s where you were, right?”

“Same as always,” Yahaba sighs, shoulders drooping, “Prince Tooru spends the entire time with Prince Wakatoshi until he retires to his room to study alone. It’s dreadfully boring to sit around and do nothing.”

“I’m sure he talks your ear off with his complaints,” Iwaizumi chuckles.

Yahaba blinks, “No, he’s pretty subdued when we visit. It’s probably tiring to decide so many things for the wedding and everything else.” Something flits across the attendants face, something Iwaizumi can’t quite decipher, but it’s gone in a moment and Yahaba conitnues more cheerfully, “It’s fun when we travel through the countryside. There’s so much farmland in Shiratorizawa, the stars are absolutely beautiful out there! Prince Tooru and Prince Wakatoshi spend most of their evenings stargazing, which means I get to see all the constellations too.”

“Right,” Iwaizumi says, heart squeezing in his chest, “I’m glad they’re getting along, then.”

Yahaba nods, “Prince Tooru’s been very agreeable about everything lately. He and the King haven’t had a fight in so long, it’s been wonderful.”

“Really?”

“He’s maturing.” Yahaba supplies with a teasing smile. Iwaizumi snorts, and he hopes it covers up the grimace from the bad taste in his mouth.

Kyoutani huffs, injecting himself into the conversation, “Prince this Prince that. Can we stop talking about useless aristocrats.”

“Disrespect Prince Wakatoshi all you want, but you know I don’t stand for badmouthing ours,” Iwaizumi warns, slapping Kyoutani on the arm lightly.

“You’re so whipped man. It’s been four years and you’re still his dog. It’s pathetic.”

“Says the man who growls like a wild animal at the drop of a hat.” Yahaba points out.

Kyoutani growls at him, then stops when Yahaba raises his eyebrow accusingly. Kyoutani’s ears redden and he snarls out a goodbye before hunkering away. Iwaizumi shakes his head as he watches him go, before looking back at Yahaba.

“You’re doing a great job taking care of him,” Iwaizumi says.

Yahaba smiles, his first sincere expression this entire conversation, “Thank you, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi nods, giving him a small wave goodbye before trotting back after Kyoutani. Yahaba turns the other way, padding over to the castle proper as the sun sinks down below the horizon.

When Iwaizumi lays down in his stiff cot, he thinks about Oikawa. It is an agonizing routine that he could never quite get rid of. Tonight, however, he lets the memories come unabated, worry fermenting in his stomach from Yahaba’s words. Fears that Oikawa may be giving up finally swirl within him.

He knows this is the better option, to retire to Shiratorizawa, rather than be revealed as a monster the Prince never was. But it still pains him to think the fire in Oikawa’s eyes has gone out. He wonders if there is anything at all he could do to stop the wedding without harming Oikawa in anyway.

It was an idea that had plagued him more and more in recent months. An idea he had no right to entertain. He made his decision long ago. To seperate himself, to no longer be part of the equation. To not play the part of villanous accomplice, which in turn, meant giving up the possibility of playing hero.

Still, he can’t help ruminating on different scenarios. Different hopes and dreams. Habits die hard, and Iwaizumi could never stop his mind from worrying about Oikawa, no mattter how many times he tried.

He could kill the King, but that would be nearly impossible, and the Queen would most likely simply follow through with the original command. He could take Oikawa away, far away, but where would they go? And at this point, would Oikawa even go with him? They had not held a conversation for longer than five minutes in years.

He feels a headache fermenting in his skull and he drapes his arm over his eyes. He was never good at coming up with plans, had always been much better at executing them. He rolls onto his side and drifts into unrestful sleep.

---------------------------------

“At attention everyone!”

Iwaizumi looks up from his card game with some of the other Knights, watching as everyone starts to scramble into a line. He stands up, making his way over to stand beside Kyoutani. He nudges his shoulder to remind him to stop slouching.

The guard who made the order steps away, and in his stead, three royals make their way into the mess hall of the barracks. Like a wave, the Knights all bow at the sight of them, and Iwaizumi makes sure to tug Kyoutani down too, especially since it seems they have a guest in their home.

“Gwaah! So cool!”

Oikawa chuckles, a hand coming over his mouth, “Why thank you Prince Shouyou, Aoba Johsai prides itself on their knights.”

“Gwaah’s not even a word.” Prince Tobio grumbles with his arms crossed beside them.

“You’re not even a word.” Prince Shouyou counters.

“That doesn’t even make any sense, dumbass!”

Oikawa claps his hands together, “Tobio-chan, why don’t you lead the rest of the tour for your guest, hmm? We would not want to bore Prince Shouyou during his Grand Debut.”

Prince Tobio sends his older brother a glare before stepping away from the foreign prince to take the lead, “This is the barracks,” he mutters, matter of factly, “Where the knights live and train.”

“Ooh! Can we see them train?” Prince Shouyou asks, eyes suddenly sparkling at the possiblity.

Prince Tobio shrugs, “Kindaichi!” he calls, “Go ask Iwaizumi if we can watch them train.”

Kindaichi’s eye seems to twitch behind him. Iwaizumi sees Yahaba send the boy a warning look. Kindaichi straightens up to walk unnecessarily over to Iwaizumi, who could hear everything already, and ask between gritted teeth, “Iwaizumi, would it be possible for our guests to watch you train?”

Iwaizumi gives him an apologetic smile, “Of course, if the Princes would be so kind as to follow me to the training area outside, I would be glad to show them our sparring techniques.”

Prince Shouyou claps his own hands, jumping up down in his giddiness at the prospect of a show. Prince Tobio looks disgusted at the reaction, but Iwaizumi’s eyes are caught on Oikawa’s. They linger, gazes matched, before Iwaizumi tears his away to call for some sparring partners to come with him. He doesn’t look back.

Yahaba and Kindaichi carry out seats for the royals. Oikawa waves them off, preferring to stand for the show. Iwaizumi takes a sword from one of the pages, his sparring partner mirroring him before taking the field. He cracks his neck, flexing his grip on the long sword, flashing his eyes over the field.

Prince Shouyou has stars in his eyes. Prince Tobio does as well, though he seems to be trying to hide it.

Oikawa is staring straight at him.

Iwaizumi swallows, looking away, and he realizes, instantaneously, that Oikawa has never seen him spar before. A heat courses through his veins, blood pulsing, heart beating, and he zeroes in on his partner. His grip on his sword tightens.

The match begins.

Iwaizumi wastes no time lunging at his opponent, surefooted and confident. He jabs at the woman’s leg, but she dodges, bringing her own sword up to counter his. They parry and he springs back, already bringing his sword up to block her slice at his shoulder. He puts some force in the block, pushing her back.

He rushes forward as she stumbles from the force, swinging his sword into her side. She takes a step back, but she isn’t fast enough, and the sword taps her. One point. Iwaizumi grins, sending a triumphant look at his audience. Prince Tobio claps, Prince Shouyou cheers, but Oikawa isn’t looking.

Iwaizumi’s shoulders sag.

Yahaba and Oikawa are conversing in hushed tones, and Iwaizumi strains to hear what they could be discussing, while springing away from his opponent’s attempts. He plays defensive, dodging and countering, trying to maneuver himself closer to the conversation.

A hit on his shoulder brings him back. One point to her.

“Woah!” Prince Shouyou shouts, at the edge of his seat.

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, tearing his eyes away from Oikawa to focus back on the match. The women, Ayame, is grinning at him, bangs slick with sweat. She raises an eyebrow and Iwaizumi’s holds his sword out, ready.

Ayame springs first, bringing her sword around with her to hit his shin. He jumps, back, sending his sword down to hit her back. But her weapon is already drawn up to block. She steps back, and the pair lock themselves into a series of parries, steel hitting steel in loud clashes. They dance together, skilled and magnificent, neither refusing to give way.

Iwaizumi strains to find an opening in her defense, waiting patiently for her to stumble. Finally, she makes a misstep, and Iwaizumi is able to land a tap to her thigh. She groans in annoyance, sending a seething glare. He smiles at her.

She sighs, nodding, and the pair sheath they’re swords. They step forward, exchanging a firm handshake, “One day, Iwaizumi.”

“Probably soon,” Iwaizumi concedes with a breathy laugh in his voice. He’s winded.

Her brown eyes shine at the complement. He pats her shoulder before turning back to his audience. The two knights bow deeply. “I hope that was to your liking, Prince Shouyou,” he calls out.

Prince Shouyou applauds, getting up from his chair for a standing ovation. Prince Tobio stands as well. Oikawa is gone.

Iwaizumi forces on a smile, “What is next on the schedule for our guest, Prince Tobio?”

Prince Tobio purses his lips, face drawn up in a signature scowl that Iwaizumi has come to believe is just his neutral expression, “We were going to walk through the orchards.”

“Would you like me to accompany you?” Iwaizumi asks, flicking his eyes to Kindaichi whose expression seems to be crying out to him for help.

“Yes!” Prince Shouyou shouts, excited at the prospect of an accomplished knight as his escort.

Iwaizumi bows, “Lead the way, sire.”

As the four of them walk toward the orchards, Iwaizumi falls into step with Kindaichi, “It’s been a while, Kindaichi.”

Kindaichi looks at him with a sense of awe, “You’ve become an amazing knight, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi smiles, “Thanks.”

“I truly envy you,” Kindaichi continues, looking back at the princes with scorn in his eyes, “I would give anything to be doing something as worthwhile as training to be a knight.”

“Your job is incredibly important.” Iwaizumi assures.

“He’s awful, Iwaizumi,” Kindaichi mutters instead, “He cares only for himself and has such a foul mouth. I never have a moments peace! It’s as if he doesn’t realize I’m a person too.”

Iwaizumi squeezes his shoulder, “I know it’s difficult. I--Oh, should we, stop them?” he interrupts himself, seeing as the two princes have started sprinting away as fast as they can toward the oncoming trees.

“No, they’ve doing that all weekend.” Kindaichi sighs, “I’m in charge of remembering the tally.”

“Really?” Iwaizumi blinks, watching the Princes pull and snap at each other as they weave through the grounds, screaming as they go, “I’ve never seen the young Prince so...animated.”

“It’s tiring.” Kindaich huffs, “But I guess we should catch up.”

“I’m glad Prince Tobio has finally made a friend. Maybe this is what he needs to start changing his poor attitude.”

Kindaichi snorts, “I doubt it.”

The pair shift into a light jog to catch up to the princes. The two royals have exhausted themselves against a tree, sweat dripping from their brows. Through their ragged breaths they continue to argue who came first.

It is a scene so youthful and sweet, Iwaizumi can’t help thinking of his own fun he had made with Oikawa at his side, and the words stumble out of his mouth without his permission, “Where did Prince Tooru go?”

Kindaichi flicks his gaze to him with a shrug, “The King has been keeping him busy doing all sort of things in preparation for the wedding.”

“Ah, of course.” Iwaizumi swallows, bringing his head up to scratch the back of his neck.

Kindaichi nods solemnly, “Ever since the Queen fell ill, the King has been very demanding of Prince Tooru.”

Iwaizumi blinks, swiveling his head to the side, “The Queen is ill?”

Kindaichi reddens, eyes widening, he holds his hands up, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I assumed you would know. I...Please, keep this information to yourself. I’m sorry.”

Iwaizumi takes Kindaichi’s arm, pulling him away from the bickering princes trying to outdo each other in apple picking, “Kindaichi, tell me, what is the King having Prince Tooru do?”

Kindaichi looks sweaty, eyes constantly flickering around, “I don’t know. But Prince Tooru has not been bickering with him much as of late. He drops everything to do what he asks of him.”

Iwaizumi frowns, grip on Kindaichi’s arm tightening, “Has Prince Tooru been able to see his mother?”

Kindaichi swallows, “I don’t know. He’s not there when Prince Tobio visits her.”

“When does Prince Tobio visit her?”

“Whenever he wishes to?” Kindaichi winces, “Iwaizumi, you’re hurting me.”

Iwaizumi releases him, taking a step back, “Could you send the princes my apologies, I just remembered I have something to attend to,” he murmurs. “Oh, and, you should probably stop them from climbing that tree before they get hurt.”

Kindaichi turns his head around, groaning, “Prince Tobio!”

Iwaizumi slips away, measured steps turning into a sprint as he heads back into the barracks. He passes servants, butlers and maids all running about the grounds as normal. They all wave and call to him, but he’s too distracted to return their greetings. He pushes his way through swarming trainees and finally makes it back to the barracks.

He glances about the mess hall, eyes scanning the many people before laying eyes on cropped blond hair and dark lined eyes. He wades over, grabbing Kyoutani’s arm unceremoniously and pulling him free of whatever argument he was having. He drags the grumbling teen out of the mess hall entirely, into one of the side hallways.

“What the fuck?” Kyoutani barks.

“Hey, I need you to tell me where I can find Yahaba.”

“How the hell would I know?”

“I need to know where Yahaba is right now.”

Kyoutani glares at him, and then his eyes flick to the sky in thought, “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since the rich kids interrupted us a while ago. He’s probably in the castle with the Prince or something.”

Iwaizumi lets out an aggravated noise, “Is that really all you know? Are you planning on seeing him at all today?”

“Why would I ever want to see that idiot?” Kyoutani snaps, pulling free of the elder knight’s hold, “What are you freaking out about?”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re fucking trembling.” Kyoutani points, “You’re a bad liar, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi grits his teeth, closing his eyes and taking a moment to breath, “I just, I just need to talk to Yahaba.”

Kyoutani purses his lips, eyebrows low, “I know where he might be, tonight. When the moon is just starting to creep up, sometimes he hangs out at the servants exit near the west end of the castle.”

Iwaizumi claps him on the back as thanks, but Kyoutani just sends him off with a grumble, ears red at his admittance.

The day passes on slowly. Iwaizumi keeps busy, as best he can, but nothing speeds up the gruelingly slow pace. He can’t help flicking his green gaze up at the castle constantly, worry slowing his movements, making his practices sluggish.

Finally, finally, the sun sets in the horizon and the knights start to turn in for the night. He makes to do so as well, getting into his cot. He waits, lying in silence until he can hear the tell tale sounds of the other men sleeping. Once he’s certain enough time has passed, he slips out of his bed, creeping silently out of the barracks entirely.

He moves across the grounds stealthily, keeping away from the night guards with ease. He had long ago memorized their schedule. He takes a circuitous route, cutting through the orchards. He pauses a second, eyes catching on a thick piece of wood on the ground. He picks it up and keeps moving.

He soon reaches the west exit, deciding to lean against the castle wall. The moon peaks out between thick clouds, its light minimal and haunting. Iwaizumi pulls his knife out, whittling at the wood in his other hand to pass the time.

By the time the door creaks open, Iwaizumi has finished the body of his wood piece. He had been so consumed by his work he startles at the sudden interruption. Yahaba jumps in turn, eyes widening at the unexpected visiter. He catches himself before he lets out a shout.

“Iwaizumi? What are you doing here?” he hisses.

Iwaizumi sheathes his knife, slipping it back into his pocket, “I need to talk to you.”

Yahaba glances behind him into the darkened hallway, “Alright,” he murmurs, stepping out completely, “But we must be quick.”

Iwaizumi nods, taking a few paces away from the door to a more secluded spot. Yahaba follows on his tiptoes, careful not to step on any falling twigs.

Iwaizumi has never been one for subtlety, so he decides to cut to the chase, “How long has the Queen been ill?”

Yahaba’s eyes are wider than the saucers the King feasts on and Iwaizumi lets out a brisk sigh, “Yes, I know she’s ill. Let’s move past that. How long?”

Yahaba swallows, eyes scanning the area quickly before ducking his head down, “I’m not sure. Prince Tooru found out a few months ago but...”

“But who knows the truth, right,” Iwaizumi sighs, squeezing his nose with his fingers, “Has Prince Tooru been able to see his mother?”

Yahaba looks down, “A few times.”

Iwaizumi takes a breath, “A few times in the past few months?”

Yahaba nods.

Iwaizumi clenches his teeth, “And I’m guessing, it’s in exchange for compliance?”

Yahaba looks away.

Iwaizumi punches the wall they are leaning against.

Yahaba blinks, “Iwaizumi, please, calm down.”

“I am calm!” Iwaizumi seethes. He takes a breath, repeats himself in a softer tone, “I am calm.”

“Believe me, I am upset too, but the King’s word is law.”

“How is Prince Tooru?”

Yahaba scratches the back of his neck, swatting at a pesky fly, “He’s doing well, all things considered. I haven’t really noticed anything different. He just hasn’t bickered with the King much at all. He’s been keeping to his studies in his room mostly.”

“What is the King making him do?”

“I don’t know. I’m never allowed in those conversations. Prince Tooru doesn’t complain about them anymore so I can’t even infer. Although, he seemed pretty upset after a recent talk.”

“How so?”

“Just, I don’t know, upset. He wouldn’t talk to me about it. Just locked himself in his room and dismissed me for the rest of the day. He had a gift in his hand from his father it seemed, an early birthday present I assumed.”

Iwaizumi nods, letting out a breath, “Alright, thank you Yahaba.”

Yahaba flicks his gaze back at the door, “Iwaizumi, I...I think if you are so worried, perhaps you should talk to the Prince himself?”

“It’s not my place.”

Yahaba licks his lips, “Iwaizumi, why is it that you keep your distance? From what everyone has told me these past few years, the Prince and you were quite close, and I don’t understand why --“

“You should head back up Yahaba. Thank you for speaking with me.”

----------

Iwaizumi does not see Oikawa again for another week. The Prince is supremely busy, and Iwaizumi is preparing for his own future assignment. It is still unclear exactly where his squadron will go, but he hopes to be useful wherever it be.

While walking the castle grounds on break he finds Oikawa, sitting under one of the apple orchards. Iwaizumi almost misses him entirely. The Prince is dressed relatively plainly, no jewels to be found on his person, and his hair is empty of it’s usual sparkling tiara.

He is curled up at the tree, long legs drawn up to form a perch for the thick book balanced on his knees. But once Iwaizumi sees him, he can not un-see him. He moves toward the royal, despite the apprehension, despite the waves of feeling that hit him, whispering in his ears, turn away, do not come near.

He stops at the Prince’s feet, standing above him, “Prince Tooru,” he greets.

Oikawa snaps the book shut with a start, head jerking up to look at the intruder, eyes tinted red and wide with surprise, “Iwa-ch, Iwaizumi? How did you find me?”

Iwaizumi licks his lips, fingers clenching into his palms. His heart constricts in his chest and he decides he’s feeling a bit tired. That is why he decides to sit down, beside the Prince instead of answering his question.

Oikawa’s look is guarded as he does so, hands gripping onto his thick leather bound book, “What are you doing here?”

Iwaizumi keeps his gaze outward, focusing on the trees around him, “I was walking the grounds on break.”

Oikawa does not seem convinced, keeping his own gaze away. They sit in silence for a while, centimeters apart but worlds away. Oikawa opens up his book, returning to his reading, perhaps to save himself from the unbearable quiet.

Iwaizumi in turn takes out his wood project, slipping his knife out and beginning to carve away. He can feel Oikawa’s curious gaze, but whenever he flicks his eyes over to him, the Prince is glued to his book. But Iwaizumi feels it, swears he does, like this overwhelming pressure on his shoulder. A longing, a desire.

Talk to me, it whispers in his ears, why did you go so far?

Iwaizumi has never been averse to silence, but in this moment it feels suffocating. Perhaps he is no longer use to Oikawa’s presence, perhaps Oikawa has improved his royal intimidation, but regardless of why, Iwaizumi can’t bear it much longer.

He speaks up, “What are you reading?”

Oikawa looks up, and the pressure on Iwaizumi’s shoulder seems to slacken. Oikawa’s face looks conflicted, but instead of responding, he hands the other man the object in question.

Iwaizumi is surprised by it’s weight, heavy in his hands. He runs his fingers along the golden lettering, along the cover, written in a script too fanciful for him to decipher. He opens the book carefully, trying not to breath in the dust. The pages crinkle with age, the ink a bit worn in places.

Iwaizumi bites his lip, heat rising to his face self consciously as the words attack his eyes. A foreign landscape he can’t decipher. He flicks his gaze about the page, desperate for any kind of grip on it. He finds simple words, the, dark, night, horns, but most of it is lost to him.

“I,” he voices, swallowing as he returns the book, “I haven’t read anything in a long time.”

Oikawa pushes the book back into his hands, scooting closer until his side is pressed against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi feels himself curl inward instinctively, and he feels silly for it. Oikawa’s arm comes over to maneuver the book in Iwaizumi’s hand, opening it up to the first page, fingers running along the lines and reading aloud, “The Trouble with Demons, an Ongoing Investigation into the Dark and Arcane Magic of the Creatures Plaguing our Forest.”

Iwaizumi feels sweat pooling at his brow, “Our forest?”

Oikawa shakes his head, face moving even closer, finger gliding through the page to follow the line below the title, “An Account by Akaashi Keiji.”

“Akaashi Keiji,” Iwaizumi repeats, brow furrowing with a hint of recognition.

Oikawa smiles, wide and glinting, “A member of Fukurodani Court,” he explains.

Iwaizumi blinks, and then, as if compelled, regurgitates, “Close friend and scribe to Prince Koutarou.”

“You remember.”

Iwaizumi snaps the book shut, shoving it back into the Prince’s arms. He stands up, abruptly, clutching his wood carving tightly in his hands.

“You’re going?” Oikawa comments, tone unsurprised, but eyes shielded. There’s something almost bored in the way he says it.

“I have to return to my duties,” Iwaizumi forces out, tongue heavy in his mouth.

“Have fun playing with swords,” Oikawa bites back, opening up his book and not sparing Iwaizumi another glance.

Iwaizumi grits his teeth but does not look back as he walks away. He keeps walking, feet taking him past the barracks, to the edge of the castle grounds that look out at the forest beyond. He lets out a breath he had been holding, rears his arm back and throws the wooden fox as far as he can. He watches at it slips behind the tree line, gone. Out of sight. Out of mind.

Lost.

Iwaizumi wonders if this all has been pointless.

-----------

Iwaizumi is mid spar with a young trainee when he feels it. It is a guttural emotion, like a slice through his heart, emptying him out. Making him cold. He stops mid lunge, and he turns his head to the castle. No one else seems to feel it. The dread. The emptiness.

And then Iwaizumi hears it, faint in the wind but horrendously loud in his ears.

An inhuman wail reaches him.

Before he can register it he has thrown his sword to the ground, has run up to the castle and pushed his way through. Servants call to him in surprise, mostly friendly, some worried by his erratic behavior. He pays them no mind, the castle hallways still familiar to him even after all of these years. He takes the ornate steps two at a time.

He hears pounding on wood, frantic clawing, desperate calls unanswered. He turns the corner and he sees him. He sees Oikawa, banging on the door, sees Yahaba’s conflicted face behind him, sees the guard’s unmoving stances. And Oikawa looks over, as if he knew Iwaizumi was coming, and his eyes have no shields up, no attempt to seem superior, no desperation to pretend that everything is fine, no need to show himself so unaffected. Instead they are cloudy, lost and rimmed with tears. And they are begging him for help.

“He won’t let me in,” he hisses.

Iwaizumi wastes no time turning to the guards, “Give me the key.”

“Iwaizumi, it’s orders from the King.” The guard mutters, trying to keep his eyes away from the scene. Iwaizumi steps into his line of sight.

“He wants to see his mother.”

“Iwaizumi--“

“Let him see his mother!” Iwaizumi roars, because how can the world be so cruel? So indifferent? So callous?

The guard swallows at the roar, shame coloring his face as he pulls the key from his pocket.

Iwaizumi nods, taking it from his hands, “You can blame me if the King is upset,” he offers, before turning the key and opening the door.

Oikawa wastes no time stumbling in, and Iwaizumi gives one glance at Yahaba--stay--before following after the Prince and closing the door.

Inside, the King has stood up from his chair, anger filling his eyes at the sight of the first Prince. His gaze sweeps toward Iwaizumi, who’s look is it’s own kind of fury: cold, righteous, and just begging to be provoked. Prince Tobio stands by the window, his own face twisted up into anger. But his is the grieving kind, with the world as its target and with tears caked down his face.

Oikawa is already beside his resting mother, fingers clutching at her limp hands. He is not crying; he is whispering, softly, words that not even Iwaizumi can hear. The Queen does not react, laid down in her bed. Iwaizumi already knows why. Has known since the moment he heard Oikawa’s wail. Has known since he had felt the coldness seep into his heart.

The Queen is dead.

Oikawa’s grip on her hands tightens as he stands. So tight, his knuckles are painted white. The King rises once more, “You’re hurting her,” he snaps, voice gruff and commanding.

That is when Oikawa loses it.

Iwaizumi had not seen it happen in years, but his eyes are not surprised in the slightest as the darkness seems to overtake the Prince. How his aura becomes palpable, suffocating, morose. How his horns seem to appear, thick and spiraling from his nestle of brown hair. How his hands grow talons, how his face scrunches into a snarl jammed with canines. How his ears pinch up and his thin tail lashes about in warning.

Prince Tobio lets out a startled noise, body moving back into the wall. Iwaizumi wonders if he has ever seen his brother like this. If he has always known the truth but never fully realized its implications.

The King reacts as he always has, with a terrified gleam in his eye at the sight of the monster dwelling within his home. Iwaizumi can read his eyes then, open and scared, and knows he will call for the guards to burst in. And everything will be known. That even in the throws of utter grief and loss, Oikawa has no right to be anything but in control.

Iwaizumi steps forward, reaching out his hand to place it on Oikawa’s shoulder. The reaction is immediate, like Iwaizumi had somehow pressed the off button on Oikawa’s demonic ancestry. There was a demon in the room seconds before, but now just a prince.

Iwaizumi squeezes the shoulder. Oikawa shrugs him off. Iwaizumi takes his forearm then, fingers squeezing, let me help you. There is tension in Oikawa’s arm, it trembles in his grip but finally relaxes, acquiesces. Oikawa has no strength to be stubborn in this moment.

It does not feel like a victory in the slightest.

Iwaizumi leads him out of the room all together, passing the keys back to the guard and informing Yahaba he is dismissed for the day. The pair walk silently, Iwaizumi taking the lead as he takes the Prince up once familiar stairs and down the hallway to the Prince’s chambers.

When Iwaizumi opens the door he is struck by how little has changed and how everything is different. The bed does not seem as big as he knew it, the chess set has been replaced by stacks of books and papers, there are scratches all along the walls. But other than that, he remembers this place as home.

Iwaizumi takes Oikawa further into the room before letting him go to close the door. Oikawa still has not said anything, has barely looked at him. So Iwaizumi swallows down some nervous spit and takes a seat in one of the chairs, “You can let it out now.”

The comment opens a flood gate. In an instant, Oikawa’s aura has returned to him, but he spreads it out, consuming the entire room. Even Iwaizumi is caught in it, a cold sweat building on his back as an unnatural dread fills his chest. His eyes dart up, fearfully as Oikawa lets out a scream, so inhuman and dark that it chills Iwaizumi’s bones.

Oikawa snarls at him, but that is the last time he is of focus. Instead, the demon turns toward his shelves of books, knocking them off their perch in a swell of fury. They fly about the room as he screams and claws and tears and cries. Tears finally released from their prisons, flowing down his face freely.

There’s another scream, and Oikawa throws a dagger into the wall, watching it embed into the stone with his inhuman strength. Oikawa rushes toward it, prying it out and shoving it back in with the desperate obsessiveness of a man who has lost everything.

Iwaizumi only watches.

Eventually, Oikawa abandons this endeavor and abandons his anger. His demonic aura returns to press up against him and only him. He collapses on his bed, face down and unmoving.

Iwaizumi stands up.

“Oikawa,” He murmurs, coming over to the bed, fingers twitching but remaining firmly at his sides, “I’m so sorry.”

Oikawa snarls at him, animalistic and angry, “You have no right to be sorry!”

“Oikawa, I-“

“Why are you even here? What gives you any right to speak to me with such familiarity?” The Prince seethes, turning his body to the side to face the knight.

Iwaizumi looks away, guilt sinking his gut down, making it hard to support himself on his legs, “I know,” is all he can muster to say.

It is the wrong thing to say, “Get out of here! Go! I don’t want to see you a moment longer!”

Iwaizumi turns away, but he does not leave. He will not leave. The pointlessness of all his efforts weighs heavily on his shoulders. He had run from this for so long, had tried desperately to cut himself free, and yet none of it had made any difference. He still ran for the Prince at the sound of a muffled wail. And his simple touch still calmed the demon’s wrath. All of it had been for nothing.

Iwaizumi’s green eyes flick toward the dagger in the wall. He walks over to it, wrapping his hand around the leather grip and tugging. He grits his teeth, using all of his strength to free it from its constrains. He’s not embarrassed by how much effort it takes, nor how much sweat builds on his brow as he tries. He is full of admiration for his Prince, despite everything.

When he frees it finally, he turns it, watching the light catch its polished surface. He runs his fingers along the blade, marveling at it’s sharpness, at its slight curve. The pommel is carved with intricate swirling designs. It’s a beautiful dagger. But then he swallows, realization hitting him hard and fast.

He turns to Oikawa. The Prince has not moved from his place on the bed, turned on his side. His brown eyes, however, have followed his every move. Iwaizumi stares at him, “This is silver.”

“So it is,” Oikawa responds with a shrug, flipping himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Why do you have a silver dagger?” Iwaizumi asks, grip on the weapon tightening.

“Early gift from my father,” Oikawa sighs, “Happy Birthday to me.”

Iwaizumi takes a step forward, feels his hand shake around the dagger. He repeats, “Why did your father give you a silver dagger?”

Oikawa sits up with a huff, annoyed, “Why do you think, Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi’s face is a thin line. Suddenly, the dagger feels hot in his own hands, like it will burn him somehow if he holds onto it a second longer. He throws it at the wooden door, watching it pierce easily and stick straight out.

Oikawa snorts, watching Iwaizumi rub a hand over his face with a detached look, “It’s sweet of him isn’t it? Do you know what he told me when he gave it to me?”

Iwaizumi looks over at him.

Oikawa’s smile is devoid of anything. It is empty and yet it takes up half his face, “He said, Tooru, you’ve been so good these past few months. Here, I want you to have this. I want you to have options.”

Oikawa’s breath catches on the last words, caught in his throat and reverberating into a humorless laugh. Tears prickle at his eyes. Iwaizumi feels his mouth open, eyebrows furrowing, “Options?”he repeats, the word hollow.

“So many,” Oikawa recovers, looking back up at the ceiling to blink away the pesky tears, “Would you like me to list them?”

Iwaizumi would not.

“Kill Ushijima after the wedding and blame it on bandits. I gain control of Shiratorizawa and become my father’s puppet. Kill Ushijima and then myself, to cut out the middle man. Kill myself, and my Father’s problem disap-.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi breathes, and it sounds like a wheeze from the way the words squeeze out of his closing throat.

Oikawa shakes his head, “I don’t want to hear anything from you. You left me.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi tries again, desperate, sad, alone, terrified.

Oikawa hates that it gets to him, “Stop it. Stop it with that face. You have no right to give me that face!”

“Oikawa.”

Oikawa sits up, turning away, “You don’t need to worry. I am not going to kill Ushiwaka.”

The silence after the statement is too much for Iwaizumi. He finds himself climbing onto the bed, fingers digging into princely shoulders, grip trembling, “And? And?”

Oikawa does not look at him.

“Oikawa, Oikawa, look at me.” Iwaizumi pleads.

“I have nothing.” Oikawa hisses, “I don’t have anything left, Iwaizumi. She’s gone.”

“I’m here.” Iwaizumi pleads.

Oikawa shakes his head, “You’re a liar.”

“You know I’m a terrible liar. Oikawa, look at me. I’m here. I’m right here. Please.”

And Oikawa looks at him, and it breaks Iwaizumi. Right in half, down the middle, and he clutches at the boy. Because he may be almost eighteen but he is just a boy. Iwaizumi’s grip is tight, his wet face burrowing into the crook of Oikawa’s neck.

Oikawa swallows and there’s a hesitation before he wraps his arms around him as well, fingers digging into the knight’s back. And now they are both shaking, trembling, lost, terrified.

“Why did you leave?” Oikawa whispers.

“I was scared.” Iwaizumi murmurs into his neck.

“Scared of what?” Oikawa begs, because this has tortured him for so long, for years.

“Of this.” Iwaizumi pulls his face free so his words are not muffled. Oikawa shakes his head, this is a silly thing to be afraid of. To leave him for.

“The King, he,” Iwaizumi starts, words pouring from him now that Oikawa has pried free the plug.

“Of course, he’s behind this too,” Oikawa seethes, words like venom as they drip onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“He told me, he would use me, to ruin you.” Iwaizumi explains, stilted, “He would hurt me, and you would reveal yourself.”

“He threatened you?” Oikawa growls, eyes flashing, teeth growing and Iwaizumi’s brows furrow as he tightens his grip.

“Do you see? Do you see why I had to leave?” he hisses, “It would work. It would all be because of me.”

“It would not matter if it worked, if he were ever to harm you he would know my wrath, this kingdom would know my wrath, I would--“

Iwaizumi shushes him, squeezing his shoulders tightly to get him to retreat back his foreboding aura, to blink away the red fury from his eyes, to dull his sharpened horns once more.

“I did not want to be your weakness,” Iwaizumi continues, letting his head hang, staring at the bed sheets beneath, “I could not be your weakness. I had to, I had to go. To change this. Or at least, to get stronger myself.”

A hand touches his face, lifting his head back up. Oikawa presses their foreheads together, hot breath mingling with his, “You could never be my weakness, Iwa-chan. You have always made me feel invincible.”

Iwaizumi clutches at him.

There is a knock at the door and they separate.

-----------------------------------

The funeral is a somber affair. The normally bright colors of the Aoba Johsai interior are replaced by darkness. Black banners hang from the windows to block the light, white flowers droop at the tables. The flag is taken down. The royals dress in gloomy colors.

It is a somber affair, but it is a huge affair. The servants run around in a panic to prepare the castle for all of the visiting dignitaries. Lords and ladies from all over the countryside have come to pay their homage to the late Queen. It is she the country had known the longest, it is her blood that ties the family to this kingdom. It is she that has always held their hearts.

Royal emissaries from neighboring Kingdoms visit as well. Prince Wakatoshi is here, of course, visiting his grieving fiancé. Prince Kenji of Datekou pays a visit in the stead of his mother. Prince Shouyou and one of his fathers, King Koshi venture to the castle to give their respects.

There is a lot to be done for the visiting nobles. Food must be prepared, chambers cleaned and offered, servants assigned for hospitality’s sake. And then there is the conducting of the funeral itself, the decorations, although gloomy must be perfect, the placement of the casket of the utmost importance.

There is not a moments rest for the bottom rung of society within the castle walls. There is no time for them to grieve their fallen Queen, and yet they do. In the pockets of time allowed them, in the cracks of the wall, in the kitchen for just a moment, a stray tear here, a deep shaky breath there, a thick swallow in the corner.

Because they have lost a woman they had served since infancy, a kind woman, a noble woman, and they too feel it in their hearts.

It is in this sense of urgency and chaos that Iwaizumi blends back into the life of a castle servant. He excuses himself of his knightly duties, citing the fact that everyone needs to play their part in this trying time. This is something he has training in, and the castle servants are in terrible need of extra hands. It’s a noble sacrifice whispered of in the barracks, another point in favor of Iwaizumi Hajime, a ranking in the hearts and minds of his peers that grows every day whether he realizes it or not.

Iwaizumi’s reasonings, however, are not as selfless as his act makes them out to be. Because he longs to be back in the castle walls, longs to stand beside the Prince he had abandoned, needs to be there for him more than he can bear. Ever since the Queen’s death and their subsequent conversation, it has felt like a valve has been released from his heart. All the admiration, and trust, and love for his Prince hits him like a tidal wave and he finds himself drowning.

His only remedy is to make up for lost time. To make up for his foolishness. To be beside Oikawa once more.

And so he takes the chance to return to castle duties, helping out with anything he can as the preparations go under way. He checks on Oikawa throughout, stealing the Prince away for breaks from his own duties, as the son of the deceased.

Oikawa is somber during these days, his eyes darker, his voice lacking its normal playful lilt. He follows his father’s orders numbly: entertain these Lords and Ladies, pick which flowers should go where, write your specific eulogy, make it good, etc, etc. Iwaizumi’s conversations are a bright spot in his dark days, rekindling their friendship and warming his soul.

Prince Tobio is faring far worse, still young enough to feel the shock of mortality fully in the cavern of his chest. Loss is a difficult thing for anyone to understand. Not all children are presented with it as quickly as Iwaizumi, who had seen it over and over again in the orphanage. And not all children were dealt a cruel hand by fate as Oikawa was, reminded constantly of how tenuous their place on earth was.

No, Prince Tobio had lived a mostly carefree childhood with little consequence, and the loss of his mother destroys him.

It is rare for the siblings to find comfort in each other, rarer still for Oikawa to initiate these moments. But in these dark days, Iwaizumi sees it with his own eyes. Sees the moments Prince Tobio is lost in his anger--the only emotion he is comfortable with--face twisted at a servant ready to deliver some damning blows when Oikawa appears, calm, collected, whispering words in Prince Tobio’s ears that make his shoulders loosen. Sees the moments Prince Tobio is lost in his grief, staring at the large portrait of his mother the servants have brought out to the chapel, and Oikawa stands beside him, elbows sometimes touching.

And he sees it in their stilted conversations, far and few between, but enough.

“You look just like her.”

“Yes, but you were her baby and she adored you.”

And Iwaizumi thinks of how much Oikawa has grown, how he carries his grief on the shoulders of a man and no longer that of a petulant child. And for the first time, maybe, he sees the face of a King and not a Prince in his commanding brown gaze.

Oikawa is strong in all these moments. Strong as he organizes the funeral single handedly, strong as he smiles for his guests, strong as he keeps his cool. Strong as he stays in complete control of himself. And strong as he speaks with the servants, the only one to acknowledge their grief too. It is a point in his favor, building the love and affection the workers have for the charming prince who takes the time to know them as people.

Iwaizumi knows Oikawa, however, and knows this strength does not come without weakness. Does not come without exhaustion, and can only imagine the sorrow that fills the Prince’s heart once doors are closed. And he longs to alleviate him from his lonely battle, but there is never an opening. Never a moment for Iwaizumi to slip into his chambers for the evening. There is simply too much to do.

The King keeps to himself throughout this. He does not leave his room for hours at a time. His sons visit him and then go about with their duties assigned.

Iwaizumi sees him only at the funeral itself, presiding over it with a silent vacant stare. The Lords and Ladies have their heads bowed throughout. The servants keep their weeping quiet. Prince Tobio fights through his speech and his tears, his words more barks than anything. When he returns to his spot beside his brother and the other neighboring royals, Prince Shouyou tugs his hand. Prince Tobio grips it tightly in turn.

When Oikawa takes his turn on the stage, he smiles, and the world seems softer around the edges. His speech is simple, but his words drip love and adoration for his late mother that rumble through the hearts of the crowd. But even this takes its toll, as tears slip from his eyes as he speaks, voice wavering with emotion as he ends. It is enough to make Iwaizumi cry, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

There are claps and sniffles as Oikawa steps back into his spot beside his brother and fiancé. Prince Wakatoshi wraps a hand around his shoulder, the motion natural and familiar. Oikawa does not fight it, in fact, he turns his face into the foreign Prince’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around the other’s waist. It is a moment that makes Iwaizumi’s stomach drop in shock, makes his eyes tear away as if they had been staring at the sun. Makes his hands sweat at his side and his feet itch to leave.

The Lords and Ladies take their turns offering their own words for the fallen Queen. And at Oikawa’s prompting, a few servants summon the courage to speak. Iwaizumi thinks of doing the same, but he has never been good with words, has never felt sure of himself in that realm, and so he remains rooted to the spot.

After the funeral itself, the nobles retire to the entertainment rooms. Iwaizumi is quick to take some serving trays to enter one. He offers orderves to the higher class, recognizing a few faces. Lord Takahiro offers him a sad smile when he takes one of the offered treats from him, “Long time no see.”

Iwaizumi gives his own half smile, nodding his head, “It’s good to see you, sir.”

Lord Takahiro lets out a breath through his nose, “Matsukawa is here too, somewhere. We should have a little reunion some time. It’s been a while.”

“I’m sure it would lift the Prince’s mood to spend time with you,” Iwaizumi agrees.

Green eyes flick around the room to find the Prince in question, spotting him seated beside his fiancé. Prince Wakatoshi sips at his wine, leaning back in the sofa comfortably, arms spread out on the back. Oikawa sits with his thighs press against his, leaning forward, conversing with one of the Ladies.

Iwaizumi longs to hear the conversation.

“Iwaizumi!”

Iwaizumi swirls around toward Prince Tobio, who beckons him to his corner. The Prince looks furious, color clinging to his cheeks, “Do you know where Kindaichi is?” he glowers.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “What’s wrong, sire?”

“That idiot spilled his wine all over my shirt!” He hisses and Iwaizumi’s gaze flicks downward to a sheepishly grinning redhead. He bows to the foreign prince.

“Would you like me to help you change?”

Prince Tobio huffs, “No, I’ll just do it myself,” he grumbles, slipping out of the room. Prince Shouyou follows after him not so subtly, promising to help in someway to atone for his mistakes.

When Iwaizumi turns back around Oikawa is looking at him. His eyes hold a message that had once been so familiar to him, I’m exhausted, I need you to get me out of here soon.

Iwaizumi makes his way over, “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he murmurs, bowing, “Prince Tooru, I was just speaking with Prince Tobio and he would like to speak with you upstairs.”

Oikawa lets out a sigh, “Excuse me, my dears, it has been wonderful speaking with you all but my brotherly duties call. I hope to bless you with my presence soon enough,” he calls, giving an excessive bow to a round of excited giggles. He slips away then, and Iwaizumi makes to follow him.

“Iwaizumi.”

He turns again, tray extending out automatically. Ushijima has stood up from his perch on the sofa and at full height he towers over the servant boy. It surprises Iwaizumi, for a moment. The last time he had met the man they had been roughly the same size.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Iwaizumi coughs out quickly, bowing his head.

“I have been meaning to speak with you for a while, do you have a moment?”

Iwaizumi had been hoping to take this time to be with Oikawa, but he doesn’t know how to deny one of the most powerful people in the world. So instead he nods, following the man to a secluded corner.

“I am honored you remember me,” Iwaizumi comments, placing his tray down on the nearby side table.

“Tooru talks of you often,” Ushijima supplies easily, “I will not keep you from your work for long. How did you enjoy the book?”

Iwaizumi blinks, “The book?”

Ushijima frowns, “On thunderflies?”

Iwaizumi furrows his brows, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies, and then, self consciously adds, “Sire.”

Ushijima looks puzzled, “Did Tooru not pass it to you?”

“I am afraid not.”

“That is a shame,” Ushijima murmurs, “Well, I will be sure to hand it to you myself next time. I don’t know if you recall our last meeting during Tooru’s debut, but you expressed an interest in thunderflies, so I had given Tooru a book to lend to you on the subject.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi says, a conflicting pool of emotion swirling in his stomach, “Thank you.”

Ushijima waves him off, “Do not thank me for a book you never received. I will be sure to send it to you. Anyway, that is all. I will leave you to your duties.” The royal nods, turning away to rejoin the party.

Iwaizumi finds Oikawa upstairs, sitting on his bed, “Isn’t it terrible,” he sighs when Iwaizumi recounts this encounter to him, “I want to hate him, and I do hate him usually, but he can be so decent most of the time.” He lies down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, “It pains me to say this but Prince Wakatoshi Ushijima is a good person at heart, and will no doubt be a great King, if a bit infuriatingly blunt at times.”

“How are you doing?” Iwaizumi asks, softly, fingers finding themselves combing through brown hair.

“Better than I expected,” Oikawa hums, “I just want today to end.”

Iwaizumi nods, fingers tracing his horns. Oikawa reaches up, fingers running along Iwaizumi’s arm until he grips him. He whispers, softly, “I miss her. I miss her so much.”

Iwaizumi holds his hand.

------------------------------------------

Lord Takahiro gets his wish almost a month later. As July gives way to August he is able to return to the Aoba Johsai castle grounds for Oikawa’s bachelor celebration.

The King has prepared a grand banquet for his first son’s leaving ceremony, and nobles from around the kingdom have made their way to give their congratulations. Mixed emotions flutter about the castle in preparation.

It has not been long since the Queen’s passing, and many had expected the wedding to be postponed. But the King is adamant to remain on schedule. The servants rush about the grounds, stripping the walls of their dark and gloom, refreshing them with their brilliant teal and white sparkles.

Iwaizumi hovers around, giving orders to the servants with a natural ease. They come to him, constantly, asking, “Would Prince Tooru prefer this wine? Or the other?”

“Iwaizumi, does Prince Tooru like roses or lilacs?”

“Iwaizumi, would Prince Tooru accept a parting gift from us? We are going to miss him.”

Iwaizumi fields these questions with simple answers full of expertise. It surprises him, how much he has retained after all of these years, how much of this is just innate knowledge.

It’s nice, to be distracted, to be needed by so many and therefore to be constantly busy. It means he has little time to dwell on the reality of the situation. That time is ticking. That very, very soon, Oikawa would be leaving the Aoba Johsai castle forever, and that Iwaizumi would be shipped off to some border to guard.

The celebration itself is a grandiose affair. Nobles give speeches on the competency of the First Prince. Many share their pride, share their stories, share their adoration. A few Lords and Ladies bemoan the fact the Prettiest Prince in all the Lands is soon to be officially off the market.

Oikawa takes all this with a gracious smile and his normal charming flair. He dances among them with calculated ease, pulling on heartstrings and assuaging fears. He gives speeches both humorous and serious, and the same thought plagues the crowds, the same question boggling the minds of the kingdom for years and years and years.

Why are we sending our beloved Prince away?

Again, Oikawa lets the servants speak their peace, smiling as they tear up, offering his well wishes, naming them off with ease. He accepts their parting gift, a simple basket of his favorite baked goods, hand-weaved and dyed in the colors of his kingdom. Oikawa holds it reverentially in his arms.

Iwaizumi, again, declines to speak. Voice lost in the myriad of emotions swirling in his stomach. It becomes apparent he does not need words to make his feelings apparent, as he spends the early evening being consoled by servants from every department within the castle.

“We’re all going to miss him.”

“You two were always so close.”

“I’m sure he’ll visit often.”

“Maybe you’ll be assigned to the Shiratorizawa border.”

Iwaizumi is surprised by their genuine kindness, unsure how to take it all. Does he look that miserable? That torn up inside that it bleeds through his pores, painting him a portrait of overwhelming sadness?

It as he is helping clean up one of the dining rooms that Yahaba interrupts him. By then most of the nobles had departed, the festivities having come to an end.

“Iwaizumi,” Yahaba mumbles into his ear, “Prince Tooru wishes you to join him in Lord Takahiro’s guest quarters.”

Iwaizumi nods, handing Yahaba the tray of dirty plates in his hand and moving to climb the ornate stairs. He slips into the guest hallway, making his way to the corner room. Lord Takahiro always requested it, because of its large overlooking windows.

Iwaizumi knocks on the door. Matsukawa opens it, now towering over him. That seems to be a common--and unfortunate--thread in his life. He smiles down, letting him into the simple guest quarters. The chairs have been pushed away, leaving Oikawa and Lord Takahiro to sit sloppily on the rug.

Oikawa practically purrs as he enters, making Iwaizumi bristle uncomfortably. But then he notices the wine glasses in their hands, and the empty bottles beside them and he lets out a sigh.

“Was I summoned to collect the Prince?” Iwaizumi asks, glancing over at Matsukawa. The servant chuckles, taking the moment to check on his caged falcon, under its blanket.

Oikawa lets out a whine, “Iwa-chaaaan, don’t be so grumpy! Come sit with us!”

“Yeah, Iwaiiiiizumi,” Lord Takahiro echoes, “Have some wine! It’s been aaages.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but takes a seat beside Oikawa, and accepts the offered glass. He rarely gets the chance to imbibe, though he pours the drink out often. The taste shocks him slightly, but he keeps it down, enjoying the pleasant burn in his throat.

“Iwa-chaaaaan’s back everyone! Isn’t that amazing!” Oikawa shouts with unimpeded glee.

Lord Takahiro laughs, “Thank God for that. I couldn’t stand hearing you moaning about it a second longer.”

“You talked about me?” Iwaizumi asks, blinking.

Oikawa sticks his tongue out.

Matsukawa takes a seat beside Lord Takahiro, taking a sip from the noble’s wine, “I don’t think there has ever been a conversation with Prince Tooru that did not mention you at least once by name.”

Iwaizumi feels his heart beat faster, his grip on his wine glass more tenuous, as heat rises up to his face, “Really?”

Oikawa huffs, face red from alcohol and embarrassment, “Don’t play innocent Iwa-chan!” he practically growls out, “I know for a fact you were thinkin’ and talkin’ about me too.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, “Uh huh?”

Oikawa squints at him, leaning forward, “I’m not dumb, Iwa-chan. I know whats going on in every corner of my castle.”

“And you made your attendant check on him constantly,” Lord Takahiro adds with a laugh.

“Are you serious?” Iwaizumi joins in with his own chuckle, “Kyoutani always claimed Yahaba was spying on me.”

Oikawa purses his lips, “This conversation, this conversation is stupid. Change it.”

“Yes, of course, Your Highness.” Iwaizumi sneers playfully.

Oikawa’s eyes seem brighter, grin breaking free on his face, “Good job, minion.”

And the pair break into a long need laughing spell, clutching at each other and at a shared memories of better times. Warmer times. Closer times.

As the laughter dies down, Matsukawa cuts in, “Remember that time, I think we were like twelve, but remember when we filled Prince Wakatoshi’s napkin with blue paint and he opened it onto his lap and got it all over his pants?”

“His face didn’t change but his eyes looked crazed for like a second. It was so worth it.” Lord Takahiro agrees.

Iwaizumi thinks of the memory fondly, but the mention of Ushijima leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, so he speaks up, “Remember that time Oikawa didn’t get to have the first slice of cake and he threw an absolute fit.”

“First of all, I was eleven, second of all it was my birthday, and third of all Tobio wasn’t even invited so why was he there.”

“He’s your brother and you love him.” Iwaizumi comments back, bopping the Prince’s nose. Oikawa swats him away.

“Whatever, he’s dumb,” Oikawa grumbles, swallowing the rest of his wine, “Let’s talk about not dumb things.”

“So not you?” Iwaizumi asks.

Oikawa swats him again, this time aiming at his shoulder, as Lord Takahiro and his attendant snicker into their hands.

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean to me! Is this how you want me to remember you?” Oikawa snaps.

Iwaizumi tries not to think about it, forcing on a grin and another snide remark, “I need more wine so I can forget you completely.”

The foursome spend the night sharing stories and laughs, enjoying their company and the easy going feeling of a youth soon finished. Lord Takahiro will start assuming more responsibilities as the head of house. Matsukawa will follow him. Iwaizumi would soon be sent off to a border, and Oikawa would be crowned a Prince of Shiratorizawa in less than a week.

Eventually Iwaizumi rises from the ground, a bit tipsy but mostly solid. He hauls Oikawa up, letting the Prince lean heavily against him. He sends his goodbyes to their two guests before leading the Prince out of the guest quarters to his own chambers.

When he gets to the room and closes the door, he turns to Oikawa. As easy as ever, he moves to start unbuttoning his shirt, motions routine and familiar. But Oikawa stops him by placing a hand over his, and instead drags him into his bed.

He’s clumsy with drink, and the pair end up half on top of each other, tangled in each other’s limbs. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, trying to pull away, but Oikawa wraps his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Oikawa, you can’t sleep in your clothes,” Iwaizumi mumbles.

Oikawa presses harder against Iwaizumi, fingers digging into his back, and it takes Iwaizumi a moment to realize the dampness on his shirt and the shaking in Oikawa’s shoulders. He’s crying.

Iwaizumi hugs back, almost immediately at the realization. Worry clawing at his throat with its visceral grip.

“Don’t leave me,” Oikawa murmurs, voice low and shaky.

Iwaizumi tightens his grip, “I won’t.”

Oikawa shudders, “You know, they’re not even coming. None of them are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Father’s making Tobio start his debut early, so he’s leaving this week. Father will make up some sort of excuse for his absence. And Mom...Mom is gone. No one’s coming. I’m getting married in a stranger’s castle and no one’s coming.”

Iwaizumi holds him tighter.

Oikawa won’t stop shaking, “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go. This is my home! Not there!”

Iwaizumi feels his heart clench, “I’ll go with you. Make it happen. Just order me to go, and I’ll go. They can’t stop you if you do. Just send me with you. I’ll go with you.”

“And what? Just so father can harm you in his effort to ruin me?”

“Oikawa.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa speaks up, and his tone is desperate, insistent, as he lifts his tear stained face up to look into green eyes, “I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do. And there’s only one thing I do know. And it’s that I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, so don’t even try to deny it because you are a terrible liar and I see it in your face. I’ve seen it all these years and that’s why I could never understand your distance. And I don’t understand why you haven’t kiss me yet. Why won’t you kiss me? Please just kiss me, Iwaizumi. I can’t bear the thought of Ushiwaka having my first kiss, so please, please, kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me, kis-“

And Iwaizumi kisses him, pressing his lips firmly against Oikawa’s, pulling him closer. Needing him closer. Oikawa wraps his arms around him immediately, fingers clawing at his clothed back, legs curling around him until every inch of him is pressed against the knight.

Iwaizumi pulls his face back for breath, but Oikawa does not let him leave him for long, dragging back in. Oikawa peppers his face with kisses, sloppy with drink but lovely all the same. Iwaizumi is still trying to catch his breath, arms trembling as Oikawa starts working his way down his neck, mouthing the skin there, wet and insistent.

“Oikawa, I-“

“Please,” Oikawa whispers, his breath tingling Iwaizumi’s saliva-slick neck, making him shudder, “Let me do this, I want him to know, I want the world to know, that no matter what, I, I-“

Iwaizumi finds his fingers digging into Oikawa’s hair, expertly dodging his spiraling horns and pressing him closer to his neck. Oikawa lets out another puff of breath and then he latches on, lapping at Iwaizumi’s jugular, mouthing him and sucking. Iwaizumi can feel the scrape of sharp teeth on his skin, and he feels his heart tense with fear.

Oikawa’s fingers knead at his shoulders, “Trust me. Do you trust me?”

Iwaizumi relaxes, almost immediately, and he wonders if he maybe he has an off button too, that only Oikawa can press.

Oikawa bites him and Iwaizumi groans. Oikawa laps at the blood bleeding out, kissing at the mark. He whispers into it, words that Iwaizumi can’t comprehend even if his mind wasn’t suddenly so hazy. He feels his head slump onto Oikawa’s shoulder, breathing deeply as Oikawa massages his back, whispering into his ear and nuzzling into his neck.

“I do,” Iwaizumi whispers, feeling calmer then he’s ever felt. No worry clinging to his shoulders, no fear of death or consequence hovering over his figure, just peace and quiet and warmth, “I love you so much.”

“I know,” Oikawa murmurs back, his fingers combing through Iwaizumi’s hair, pulling his face into his chest.

“So tell them, tell them I’m coming with you. Order me to go with you. Tell the world,” Iwaizumi continues, words muffled.

Oikawa keeps petting his head, “Iwa-chan, you’ll always come back to me won’t you?”

“Even if it takes me years,” Iwaizumi replies, with more confidence than he’s ever felt before.

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

Oikawa’s smile is pained as he speaks, “You’re too good to me. Don’t you know I’m a monster?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “You’re not a monster. You’re the First Prince of Aoba Johsai.”

Oikawa clutches at him, and the pair end up falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms. Iwaizumi had forgotten how comfortable the Prince’s bed was, and how wonderful it was to have his warmth pressed against him.

In the morning, they separate. Iwaizumi returns to the barracks. Oikawa returns to Yahaba to prepare for his departure. And by that evening, the First Prince of Aoba Johsai has left the castle for Shiratorizawa. Iwaizumi spends the next few days waiting. Waiting for word of his re-assignment to Oikawa’s person, of his relocation to Shiratorizawa.

It takes a week for a message to come to the castle.

It is a simple note, but the words echo the halls as they spread from the royals to the nobles to the servants down below.

Prince Tooru is dead.

#hq #haikyuu!!#hq fanfic #iwaoi #haikyuu quest #demon au #my shitty fics #lmao sorry for the cliffy #enjoyyyyy

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