Its not an update😂😂 i just wanted to share an Iwaoi fic i read coz iwaoi is freaking life

Its not angst dont worry to all those whoot hate angst😂😂
(Yes im talking to to yuu Ame)
N good luck reading lmaowl its over 9300 words if wattpad is accurate😂

(Time: inescapable, inevitable, moving)

There's a tiny clock on his wrist, bright red numbers. It's supposed to tick, supposed to move, supposed to tell him when he'll meet his soulmate. The time will run to zero when they've met, moving numbers will become stationary—the ticking that signified uncertainty transforming to the silent stability of forever.

Iwaizumi Hajime's clock hasn't ticked for as long as he can remember. For as long as he's looked at it, he has seen only zeroes. Nothing else. The bright red light doesn't bring anticipation to him like it does for everyone else. It's a looming, painful reminder that maybe there's not someone out there for him. Maybe his soulmate is gone, dead, left him there. Maybe he's never had one to begin with.

…

The first time he actually remembers looking down at the timer marring his wrist he’s three, a few weeks away from four. His mother is in the kitchen cooking dinner when he walks in, bare feet pounding on the floor with every step—he never did know how to keep quiet when he was that young.

“What’s this?” He pulls on her shirt, gesturing to his wrist when she turns to look at him, all warm eyes and smiles.

(She can’t see it, of course. He’s the only one that’s able to see the numbers on his wrist, but everyone knows that there’s a clock on each person’s wrist, so it’s easy to guess what he’s talking about.)

“It’s a timer. When it stops ticking and reaches zero it means you’ve found the person you’re supposed to be together forever with.”

He remembers staring at the red numbers for a moment and not completely getting it, and murmuring a quiet “oh” before running off to get back to the toys he’d left strewn on his bedroom floor. The thought of clocks and numbers and forevers are very far from his mind then.

It isn’t until much later that he wonders why his timer is at zero already or why he’s never seen it with any numbers besides zero.

…

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi can’t explain the weird combination of annoyance and fondness that overcomes him when the too familiar presence lets go of his mother’s hand and runs toward him, nearly tackling him to the ground. (Even to this day, he still can’t explain it, chalks it up to one of those things that will probably always be a mystery.)

Oikawa Tooru has been his friend for as long as he can remember. So many of his memories—of their memories—involve each other that he can’t really pinpoint a time when they weren't together.

Their mothers had apparently been old friends, excited to have children who would be born around the same time, wanted them to be friends. Well, they've gotten their wish—Oikawa and Iwaizumi had always been together, part of each other’s lives, best friends.

“Get off!” Iwaizumi complains, trying to shake Oikawa off of his arm. The younger boy had jumped on him, clinging onto him and chattering excitedly.

“Aww, you’re mean.” Oikawa’s eyes are filled with mischief. “Did you miss your nap again, Iwa-chan? Is that why you’re always so cranky?”

He pinches Oikawa’s arm, and the boy yelps in pain, letting go of him and immediately whining. “Mom! Iwa-chan pinched me… again!”

Oikawa Tooru is a brat. He’s spoiled, likes to tease, thinks he can get away with whatever he wants—he probably can, because as bratty as Oikawa is, he’s that charming kid with a cute face and sweet smile that draws attention and makes people want to indulge him.

It’s annoying.

But at the same time, it’s something he’s grown used to. And even though Oikawa can be a complete pain, he’s still fun to be around, even when he acts like a total crybaby.

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi murmurs, not to Oikawa—never to Oikawa, whose crocodile tears and quivering lip are suddenly gone the moment Iwaizumi says it—but to his mother, who probably doesn’t want her son being hit or pinched. It’s not that he wants to say it, but Iwaizumi’s mother probably would have made him say it anyway, so may as well do it before she’s upset with him.

“No, no, it’s fine, Hajime-kun,” Oikawa’s mother assures him. “Why don’t you two go and play?”

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa, who is smiling expectantly. (See, annoying.) He grabs the other boy’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I get to pick what we play to make up for you pinching me, right Iwa-chan?”

“Fine.” He has to restrain himself from squeezing Oikawa’s hand too tightly.

(Together: companionship, united, close.)

It’s probably something they’ll always be.

…

The next time he even thinks about the timer on his wrist is when he’s seven. He’s at Oikawa’s house, the two of them outside, hitting a volleyball back and forth. It’s something they picked up not too long ago after Oikawa had seen it on TV and absolutely insisted that they try it. Turns out, it’s not such a bad idea and they both enjoy it—even joined the volleyball club at their elementary school.

Originally, Iwaizumi thought it was going to be a phase that Oikawa went through. In their years together, there have been a lot of phases: Pokémon, aliens—that one’s still present, though, no matter how much Oikawa likes to say he’s over it, explorers, bug catching. They’re all things that are the be all end all for a short period of time until, without warning, there’s something new to replace it.

When Oikawa first insists on volleyball, it’s not something Iwaizumi expects to stick. But it does, and he’s glad. They have a lot of fun with it, and it’s worth it.

“Oh!” Oikawa exclaims when they stop to take a break, like he just remembered something really important. “Did you hear about my sister?”

Oikawa’s sister is a lot older than them. In high school, Iwaizumi thinks. “No, what about her?”

“She came home the other day yelling about something,” Oikawa explains. “I thought she got into a fight with one of her friends again, but I guess the timer on her wrist reached zero just as she met some older boy at school.”

“Oh…” It’s the first time they’ve ever talked about the timers, about finding a soulmate. He thinks of the zero on his own wrist—red and halted and hanging over his head, a weight ready to crash down on him—and shakes his head. “That’s… cool, I guess.”

“I asked her about it,” Oikawa says. “She said that everyone has a timer and that it only reaches zero when you’ve met the person you’re supposed to be with. It’s normal, I guess…”

“Yeah, I know. My mom told me before.” He really wonders why the thought of zero is starting to bother him now. It hasn’t before… maybe because he’s never thought about it.

The words slip past his lips without him even thinking about it. “How much time do you have left?”

Oikawa’s eyes darken for a moment before he looks down at his wrist, biting his lip. Iwaizumi wonders why. It’s not a strange question, is it?

“A lot,” Oikawa finally answers. “You?”

He doesn’t know why the answer bothers him the slightest bit, why it feels unwelcome to his ears. “A lot,” Iwaizumi lies. “That’s normal, right?”

Zero isn’t normal, but no one needs to know that.

Oikawa nods, a smile back on his face, but it seems kind of strained, forced. Not the usual carefree and annoying-looking grin. Maybe he just doesn’t like talking about it. Forever isn’t something seven year olds typically think about, after all. “Come on, let’s go and play again.”

He grabs Iwaizumi’s hand and pulls him back toward the yard. Again, Iwaizumi pushes thoughts of their previous conversation away. It’s not something he needs to worry about.

Not yet.

…

Being older has Oikawa laughing sheepishly as girls run up to him and ask how much time he has left. Every answer is a “Sorry, I still have a lot left,” and despite the words, he doesn’t really seem that sorry about it. Iwaizumi’s never seen such simple words break hearts like that. One time, some girl from the year below them even cried. Apparently, she had reached zero when she was in the hall, saw Oikawa and swore that he was her soulmate.

Oikawa had brushed it off with a charming smile and some comforting words before sending her on her way. It still didn’t stop the tears, though. 

“Being so popular is tiring,” Oikawa complains, leaning back in his chair as they’re sitting in class that morning, waiting for their teacher.

Liar. You love it. Iwaizumi turns around and looks at him. “I don’t know why they would want someone like you.”

Oikawa seems taken aback. “Iwa-chan! Why wouldn’t they want me? I’m a very attractive and wonderful person, after all!”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Yeah, if only they knew you.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“What do you think?”

“I think that you’re mean and jealous.” Oikawa sits normally again, leans his head on the desk so they’re looking at each other. His tone is serious, voice low and quiet when he speaks. “I never knew so many people reached zero just like that. I never noticed it before…”

“Yeah, me too.” He hasn’t noticed it before, but it seems like an almost weekly occurrence that someone’s timer will reach zero and they find their soulmate. (That’s probably an over exaggeration, he thinks later. But when you’re surrounded by people finding what you can’t have, perceiving it as never ending isn’t so odd, is it?) “You still have a lot of time left?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

They don’t get to say more after that since their teacher walks into the room and begins class.

…

Iwaizumi isn’t sure when things start to change. Unexpected until he realizes that it really isn’t, unwelcome until he knows it’s a feeling he’d always want to have. They’ve always had a very easygoing relationship—one where things just sort of happen without them even realizing it, where they could easily fall into a steady rhythm that’s all their own. Pitch can change with one little tweak, though, and that's exactly what happened.

Even then, the tug at his heart—something beyond friendship or fondness—when he sees Oikawa, or the warmth that rises to his cheeks when he thinks of things that could be is an odd, unexplainable feeling.

Possibilities, maybes and could bes are things he shouldn't think about because there is no hope, no chance of anything remotely like that. None.

Not when Oikawa’s clock is still ticking while Iwaizumi’s is defunct.

It wouldn’t be fair to hold him back… it’d be selfish. He won’t do that, no matter how much he’d like to. He won’t. 

Detached. Apathy. Those are easier. Those would be so much easier to feel. But Oikawa is a magnet. He draws people in, makes them feel something—most of the time without even trying. It is impossible to feel apathetic around Oikawa. Impossible.

He's been drawing Iwaizumi in since they were little kids—snotty, sniffling brats who met through their mothers’ mutual friendship. No matter how much Iwaizumi has said over the years that Oikawa is annoying and insufferable and can be the worst to deal with, he never looks away.

He never wants to look away.

I am not falling in love with my best friend, is what he tells himself, but really, he knows it’s far beyond that point. He’s already past the careful, do not cross zone and there’s no going back… which really sucks.

Thanks Oikawa. Really, thanks.

…

I can’t think like that. He’s lying in bed, tossing and turning in the middle of the night. He’s been trying to come to terms with this newfound feeling, still doesn’t completely understand the details that accompany the how and the why, but he’s become a little more adept at putting it into words.

The moment he is able to pinpoint is when Oikawa was stressing himself out over getting better, over not getting surpassed, over being able to finally beat Shiratorizawa. Because it hurt to watch Oikawa rip himself apart like that. It was painful to watch Oikawa feel so inadequate and willing to break himself, leaves an unsettled feeling in Iwaizumi’s stomach, an ache in his heart. He never wants to let it reach that point again—where Oikawa very nearly does break himself and snap in two, while nothing Iwaizumi says gets through to him.

But it’s not like that now. Finally, his words reached Oikawa, finally everything settled. There’s no more of letting his heart break as he witnesses Oikawa sink deeper and deeper into dark and murky depths where there is no reaching him.

(Iwaizumi will always fight to reach Oikawa, though. He won’t ever willingly let Oikawa—someone he loves—drown in his insecurities and doubts, won’t give up until he’s able to grab his hand, to reach him, to pull him out.)

Love.

He still wants to laugh at the word. Just double over and laugh to the point where people would probably dub him insane.

It’s just so ironic though—falling in love with someone you can’t have.

With a soft sigh, he rolls over in the bed, eyes falling on the person who has caused all of this.

Oikawa had asked to come over after the incident where he’d nearly snapped and hit Kageyama earlier, when Iwaizumi had stopped him and finally made him see reason. Iwaizumi had agreed, partly because he still felt a little bad about head butting Oikawa that hard.

Okay, maybe not. He probably would have agreed anyway. Really, he’s just happy to see a change in Oikawa’s demeanor after that.

They had argued for a few minutes about sleeping arrangements—Oikawa insisting they share the bed because “My body is too tired and sore for the floor. You don’t want me to get hurt, do you, Iwa-chan?” while Iwaizumi is reluctant. In the end, Oikawa wins. He almost always does.

Oikawa’s face is smashed against the pillow, his limbs sprawled out everywhere, his mouth open and drool all over the pillow. He’s truly an ugly sleeper. Anyone who says Oikawa is beautiful has never seen him like this.

He’s not. Beautiful, he means. Well, he is. It’s hard to explain. Oikawa stands out, draws attention—for his looks, personality, skills—but a lot of people don’t know the real Oikawa.

Not like Iwaizumi does.

And honestly, he’d say that seeing Oikawa real and genuine—with a smile that’s warm and inherently happy, one that lights up his whole face, not fake and put on, exaggerated and a perfect calculation—is something that is beautiful. It’s beauty that’s not superficial like the girls who follow Oikawa around at school see. Instead, it’s something innate, something that only those Oikawa allows to see into his heart will know. Because despite his flaws and imperfections, Oikawa is beautiful. That’s what makes him beautiful, real.

Fuck. 

…

After a match, another loss against Shiratorizawa, is when things really do change. It’s the last match of their second year of high school, which means they have one more year, one more shot. They have to do it.

Comfort after losses is either hit or miss with Oikawa—he either accepts it full force or wants to pull away from everyone to be completely isolated.

Today is the former.

They haven’t actually talked much—they don’t really have to because sometimes just being there is enough. Iwaizumi’s just glad that Oikawa isn’t pulling away and shutting him out.

They’re in Oikawa’s living room on the couch, both leaning against an arm of it, facing each other, toes touching. It’s dark outside, Oikawa’s parents are out, leaving the two of them alone. Not a word needs to be said for them to simply understand that it’s a night Iwaizumi will be staying over. 

“I just want to win once,” Oikawa finally says, breaking the silence between them.

“I know,” Iwaizumi says. “We will. Next year, we’re going to win.”

Oikawa nods slowly, accepting his promise. With a soft sigh, he moves forward, pushing Iwaizumi’s drawn up legs out of the way and flopping onto his stomach.

“Hey! What’re you doing?” He’s not expecting it, and they’re a tangled mess of limbs, a clash of elbows and knees.

“Getting comfy,” Oikawa answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if lying all over your best friend is completely normal.

It’s not comfortable, but when Oikawa adjusts his position so he’s lying more on Iwaizumi’s chest instead of his stomach and they’re looking at each other, he realizes it’s not that bad.

(Minus the warmth rising to his cheeks at Oikawa’s closeness. That’s kind of bad, and something he’d rather not be teased for at the moment.)

But Oikawa surprises him and doesn’t say anything remotely resembling teasing. He’s completely serious instead. “Iwa-chan, thank you.”

That’s even more surprising. “What for?”

“You were amazing today. We wouldn’t have gotten that close to winning if it wasn’t for you.”

He’s taken aback by the sudden praise. “Uh… you’re welcome…”

Oikawa continues, not done with his thought. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t pull it out for us… I’ll work harder next time and—”

There it is. Self-deprecating tone and all. It reminds him of third year of junior high when things had been at their worst. Iwaizumi frowns and flicks Oikawa in the forehead, stopping the rest of the words before they can come out—as if that will stop Oikawa from thinking about them. “You really piss me off when you say stuff like that.”

“Sorry…”

“Quit apologizing, idiot. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You’re amazing… just like always.”

Oikawa looks genuinely surprised by the praise, his eyes wider than they had been the moment before. “You think so?”

Of course I do. “Yeah. And one day it’s gonna work out, so quit worrying and saying you’re not good enough. Because you are. You are good enough.” You always are.  

Oikawa looks like he’s contemplating the words, but finally nods slowly. “Okay…” He rests his cheek against Iwaizumi’s chest, tangles his fingers in the front of his shirt. “Iwa-chan, I’m glad you’re always here. I’m glad that I can always rely on you. Thank you. Thank you for being there. I don’t know what I’d do—”

His heart pounds at the words, chest tightens. He has always known Oikawa felt this way, but to hear it… to hear it means a lot—lets him know that Oikawa cherishes his presence as much as Iwaizumi cherishes his. “You don’t have to thank me, dumbass. I want to be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Oikawa smiles—really smiles for the first time all night—and hugs him tightly. Iwaizumi’s hand may or may not wander to Oikawa’s hair, resting there, fingers twining in soft curls.

(It’s not his fault if it does. It’s completely involuntary.)

They stay like that for a few moments, are only able to hear their own breaths over the silence of the dark room. Things are comfortable between them, steady. Oikawa has seemingly gotten over the loss. Everything is okay for now.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Iwaizumi asks after a moment, pointing to the remote on the floor next to the couch.

Oikawa snatches it up quickly. “Only if I pick.”

“You picked last time!”

“My house, my rules.”

“You picked at my house last time!”

Oikawa ignores him and flips on the TV, immediately surfing through channels for something to watch.

Iwaizumi grabs the remote from his hands. “Guests should pick. Have some manners.”

“You’re not a guest, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa singsongs. “We practically live at each other’s houses. Being guests went away a long time ago.” He pulls the remote back and holds it out of Iwaizumi’s reach.

“You’re gonna pick one of those horrible cheaply made action movies. Probably about aliens like usual. Or one of those stupid romance movies.”

“Those aren’t that bad if you actually try them!” Oikawa slaps Iwaizumi’s hand away just as it comes close to getting the remote and moves it out of reach again. He smirks, knowing he has the advantage because he’s still lying on top of Iwaizumi, who has to struggle to reach him. “And besides, you have horrible taste! If it was up to you, I’d have to suffer through some horribly gruesome horror movie!”

“Those aren’t that bad,” Iwaizumi insists. “You’re just a big crybaby like you’ve always been.”

Oikawa’s mouth drops open, he looks incredulous. “Crybaby? I am not a crybaby, Iwa-chan! Maybe the only reason I ever cried was because you would pinch and hit me. You’ve always had a horrible temper.”

Iwaizumi finally wrestles the remote away from Oikawa’s hands, but drops it on the floor immediately after because Oikawa starts tickling him.

“Dammit! You idiot! Stop that!” he chokes out between laughs.

Oikawa is smiling triumphantly. “Did you think I’d forget how ticklish you are, Iwa-chan? I’ve got this to hold over your head for all eternity!”

“Dumbass! Stop it!”

Oikawa laughs too, leaning in even closer. “Not until you say I win.”

“Like hell I will!”

It stops so suddenly, he doesn’t notice it for a moment. Oikawa freezes, the laughter dies down, and they’re just staring at each other. Their faces are so close. So very close. Only a breath away.

Suddenly, Iwaizumi is uncomfortable, is sure his face is bright red upon noticing their proximity. But Oikawa’s is a little red too, and it’s strange. It’s—

Oikawa leans down and kisses him. It’s tentative, unsure, but it’s nice. It’s so nice and feels right. So he kisses back—without even thinking, honestly. It’s just a natural reaction.

They break apart, and look into each other’s eyes. That’s when Iwaizumi remembers. Timers. Soulmates. Being like this with Oikawa isn’t supposed to be right.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, looking away from Oikawa’s face, from his swollen lips.

Oikawa touches his face gently, turning it back toward him so their eyes are locked once again. “I wanted to. But I won’t do it again if you don’t…”

It’s probably a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. But he can’t help that all of the pent up feelings built up and ready to explode choose right now to completely rush forward and eliminate any rational thought he may have. And he wants to be selfish. For once, he wants to.

“Don’t be stupid. I want to.”

Their lips meet in another kiss, one that feels like forever even though it really isn’t.

…

It’s so easy after that. At least, that’s what he wants to think. They’re still best friends, attached to each other from years of being by each other’s sides. But it’s nice—a little unbelievable, but still nice—to touch, to kiss, to exist as more than just that.

For short periods of time, he’ll forget the ever present reminder that he doesn’t belong with Oikawa, ignore the doubts brought on by the zero on his wrist. But those thoughts can never stay away for long. Because ultimately, when Oikawa’s timer runs out there won’t be any more of this.

(Of course, they’ll still always be friends. No matter what happens, he can’t imagine walking away from someone who has been such an important part of his life. But still, the reminder of what was and what could have been will always hurt even if he comes to terms with letting go.)

Oikawa won’t tell him exactly how much time is left, only that there’s a lot. And when he asks, Iwaizumi lies and tells him the same. It seems promising. It seems like it could work. But there are so many odds stacked against a random relationship like theirs—one outside of the entity of soulmates.

Everyone says you’re drawn to your soulmate, that you’ll find them no matter what and any previous threads of relationships past are cut. Denying the inevitable is stupid, especially when there exists something as powerful as a soulmate—someone who can shatter your whole world and rebuild it all anew in just one instant.

(Iwaizumi knows he stands no chance against that.)

It’s like a stab to the heart thinking that one day Oikawa will meet the person who completes him while Iwaizumi will be left behind—alone and forever incomplete.

Still, it doesn’t stop them, doesn’t pull them apart.

It doesn’t stop Oikawa from whispering a quiet “I love you” against Iwaizumi’s chest one night.

It’d hurt so much less if you didn’t, Iwaizumi thinks. But it doesn’t stop him from curling his arm around Oikawa’s waist and drawing him in closer. It doesn’t stop him from enjoying the warmth radiating from Oikawa’s skin and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. It doesn’t stop him from murmuring an “I love you too.”

…

It takes everything he has to stop himself from turning around. Class is really boring that day, drags on. The teacher and a student—a particularly outspoken girl—somehow got into a conversation about soulmates. Of course. 

No one is paying attention to the discussion at the front of the class, or if they are, it’s only vaguely so. There are kids hiding other work behind their books, on their phones, sleeping. Oikawa is another story, though.

Which brings Iwaizumi to his current dilemma. Oikawa’s seat is behind his, and he’s been subtly kicking Iwaizumi’s chair for the past five minutes, trying to get him to turn around.

He wants to turn around, but only to throw his English book in Oikawa’s stupid face. Too bad he can’t do that, though. The chance of getting caught is too high.

(There have been enough times where he’s gotten called out on in class for reacting to something Oikawa did. He does not need another instance of that, thank you very much.)

He’s half paying attention to the conversation going on, vaguely listening to the words as he tries to ignore Oikawa’s foot on the back of his chair every few minutes.

“Finding your soulmate prevents divorce, makes relationships more stable. There’s less domestic violence. Things are better this way and everyone should at least acknowledge that.”

“Yeah, but no one wants to wait around for someone if they have a lot of time left,” the girl argues. “We should be allowed to have our fun while we wait.”

Iwaizumi looks up from what he’s drawing in his notebook when a piece of paper lands on his desk. A note. Really? Are they back in junior high?

Still, he opens it and immediately recognizes Oikawa’s handwriting. I think we should break up. This conversation has made me see the light.

Iwaizumi wants to laugh, doesn’t because of class going on, but scribbles an equally sarcastic note back. Who says you can break up with me? I’ll be the one breaking up with you. And he subtly throws it back to Oikawa’s desk when no one is looking.

Oikawa’s laughter is muffled behind his hand, but still noticeable. That, and he kicks Iwaizumi’s chair again. Idiot.

It’s kind of ironic that they’re even joking about this, isn’t it? Neither wants it to get to that point, but here they are writing stupid notes and acting like it will all be okay when they do get there.

He reads Oikawa’s response, hastily thrown onto his desk and is torn between smiling and rolling his eyes. As if, Iwa-chan. There’s no way you’d be able to break up with this beautiful face. I don’t care about whether there’s some stupid soulmate there or not.

They both must have looked like they were not paying attention because next thing he knows the teacher is calling on them. “Oikawa-kun, Iwaizumi-kun, is there something funny about this?”

Iwaizumi freezes, unsure of what to say, but Oikawa is quick to recover. “I actually was wondering why we put so much faith in the idea of soulmates. Who’s to say that I can’t find someone that I love just as much, if not more, on my own? Isn’t that what loving someone should be about? Not finding your perfect match in one chance instant, but finding someone you’ve grown to love on your own.”

Damn. Iwaizumi wants to bury his face in his hands and never look up again, but since everyone’s eyes are on them, he remains calm. At least he thinks he does.

A bunch of the girls in class sigh at Oikawa’s words, as if they think this gives them a chance with him.

The teacher seems surprised by the words, taken aback by Oikawa’s smile. “Well, regardless of the issue, let’s get back to work. Open your books to page…”

Oikawa kicks the back of his seat again when they teacher isn’t looking. This time, Iwaizumi turns around and sees him smiling. He smiles back.

Even if this is what they both want, what they both feel, there’s no guarantee that years from now it will be the same. And that just makes everything more difficult.

…

“I don’t believe in soulmates,” Oikawa declares. It’s late one night, and they’re doing homework together in Oikawa’s room—the brunet sprawled across Iwaizumi’s stomach and reading his textbook while Iwaizumi leans against the pillows of the bed, using Oikawa’s back as a pad to do math homework. It’s not the most practical method, but it’s good enough for them. The closeness is nice.

Iwaizumi sets his pencil down, trails his hand over Oikawa’s back, gentle. “You say that now, but you’ll change your mind when you meet yours.” He leans back against the pillows and rubs his forehead, hoping that the lump in his throat won’t prevent him from saying more.

Oikawa turns to look at him. “What if I don’t even have one?”

Iwaizumi wants to laugh. “Don’t be stupid. Of course you have one. Everyone has one.”

Except for me, but you don’t need to know that.

“Well then, what if I don’t want to meet mine?” His voice is petulant, has the slight whiny lilt to it that Iwaizumi knows so well from years together. It’s Oikawa’s defiant tone, the one where he declares he’s not doing something and does not back down.

The difference now, though, is that he doesn’t know what to say. He’s become so accustomed to dealing with that side of Oikawa that he usually knows exactly how to respond. But now… now, he doesn’t.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa sits up, turns to face him. All thoughts of homework are forgotten.

Then you could be mine, he wants to say. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were.

But he doesn’t say that. Instead says, “You’ll want to. Even if you say now that you don’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because everyone says you can’t resist getting drawn in by your soulmate when you meet. You’ll forget all about this when that happens.”

Oikawa frowns, brows furrowed as he thinks about Iwaizumi’s words. “You don’t know that.”

“Maybe I don’t, but it seems more likely than not.” Iwaizumi looks down at his lap, away from Oikawa’s face as he says his next words. “Let’s just enjoy this while it lasts, okay?”

It’s silent, and for a moment he thinks Oikawa is going to refuse, but then he hears a soft “Okay.”

He looks up, realizing that Oikawa doesn’t seem pleased with his words, doesn’t seem satisfied. For a quick moment, Oikawa’s eyes are dark—filled with sadness, fear, and a bit of anger. But as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone, almost like Iwaizumi imagined it. “Tooru?”

“I wouldn’t forget you,” Oikawa mumbles. “I could never forget you, Hajime.”

His heart constricts at that, torn between happiness and sadness. Happiness because this—whatever this is—is real, true, will leave a mark on both of them… something almost like forever. But there’s sadness because it isn’t, and this will break someday. All good things come to an end. Realities can’t touch dreams. Even unbreakable things can be shattered when an even stronger force sweeps in.

Nothing lasts forever. Not them, anyway.

Eventually, all they’ll have left are memories, and who knows if those will even be something they look back on? Years later their memories from right now could be useless, could be collecting dust, a photo album stored away in the darkest corners of an attic—never even looked at anymore.

He doesn’t want that. Not at all.

Oikawa leans forward, resting his hand on Iwaizumi’s arm. “Don’t forget me, okay? Please don’t—”

I could never. Would never. “There’s no way I could.”

Even though it’s a promise forged through their shared determination, desire, punctuated with a sure touch, it doesn’t feel like one. Promises should be built on stability, aren’t supposed to break.

This one could. Would.

Because all things break in the end. Deteriorate. No longer exist.

But he hopes that’s not all they’ll amount to. He hopes with all of his heart that they can beat all of the odds even if that’s something more akin to a dream than a reality.  

…

If it’s possible, Oikawa pulls him in even closer, kisses him soft and slow. Their breath mingles together. They’re so close, no part of them left untouched. Everything is familiar. 

When they're together like this, it feels like they belong. With hushed whispers, and soft gasps, with sure, steady, and gentle fingers, loving presses of lips against skin, they move—in sync, together, a slow burning with every touch, the thudding of their beating hearts.

Alive. Together. Meant for each other.

“Hajime,” Oikawa breathes out, blunt nails digging into Iwaizumi's skin, leaving marks that prove he belongs there.

“Tooru. I—” Oikawa's lips are on his, then. Kissing him hard, searing, wanting.

Something has never felt so perfect, so right.

…

Iwaizumi is tired, about to fall asleep when he feels Oikawa shift against his chest and lean closer to whisper softly in his ear. “Do you regret it?”

It’s obvious that Oikawa is talking about more than sex.

Do you regret loving me?

“No, I don’t,” Iwaizumi answers honestly, his fingers tracing soft circles on Oikawa’s back as he holds him close—as if he could draw a world for just them, where this would be okay, where it would be forever. “Do you?”

“Not at all.” Oikawa kisses his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think you’ll ever regret it?”

Even though there’s a chance of this, of them, ending and that will hurt, when he thinks back on the year they’ve spent together like this he doesn’t think he’d be able to regret it. Experiencing this has been worth it. Forever or not.

“Like hell I could." And he draws Oikawa in closer, kisses him again.

…

It’s late fall when he realizes everything is coming to an end. High school, volleyball, them. Everything is drawing to a close. All they know will end with different universities and no more volleyball. Being together is no longer a guarantee. It’s still a choice that they will prioritize, that they will hold above any other option, but there is no guarantee it could be that way. There’s never a guarantee. 

Everything ends eventually.

Oikawa had called him—at almost midnight, no less—and asked him to come over. He gave Iwaizumi no explanation, no reason. Just asked. It wasn’t like the usual demand for him to come over—the annoying, almost whiny, and expectant pleas when Iwaizumi would initially say no.

(And yes, he would say no to a stupid request at midnight after a long day at school and practice when all he wants to do is sleep.)

No, this was different. It was just a simple request—not all dramatic and drawn out. Plain, simple, a “Can you please come over?” There’s even a please. He wants to laugh at that. It’s so vastly different than the usual “Iwa-chan, come over, I’m bored!”

Five minutes is all it took for him to pull on a sweatshirt and quietly sneak out of his own house, walking the short distance to the one across the street that’s basically become his second home over all of these years.

It isn’t until he gets there that he thinks about getting in. After years of this, he knows how to get into Oikawa’s house—knows exactly which first floor window will open if you jostle it the right way, knows which stairs to be extra careful on because they creak loudly when stepped on the wrong way. It’s become an art, of sorts. A perfectly mastered skill.

Breaking into Oikawa’s house without his parents’ knowledge… what a skill to have. That one will be really useful in real world application.

It always feels a little awkward doing so without his parents’ knowledge. It feels wrong. Almost. Hasn’t stopped either of them for all of these years, though.

He’s about to head back toward the window that he always uses when a voice stops him. “They’re not home. The door’s open.”

Iwaizumi looks up to where the voice had come from, sees Oikawa sitting on the roof, knees drawn to his chest, chin resting on them.

“What the hell are you doing up there, dumbass? It’s cold out! You’re gonna get sick and we have a tournament next weekend! I swear if you—”

Oikawa grins at him. “You know, I could have sworn that my mom was gone for the weekend…”

“You wanna repeat that?”

Oikawa laughs. “No, no. Sorry, Iwa-chan.” He’s all smiles and it is seriously too late for this. “You wanna come up?”

As if he has a choice. “Fine, but only for a few minutes. Then we’ll go inside.” It’s cold, and obvious it will be winter soon. A night out on the roof in the cold air pales in comparison to sleep in a warm bed.

This is something he’s familiar with too. They’ve spent countless times up there. When they were kids, going on the roof was a taboo. There was a constant warning that they would fall and get hurt. But one day Oikawa had determined that ten was old enough to climb up there on their own. Their parents didn’t have to know about it if they snuck it in the middle of the night. So they had. Nothing bad happened, fortunately. If anything, the routine stuck and now it’s a place they can go, a place where they don’t have to talk in hushed whispers or fear waking their parents up. No, this is a place all their own.

By now, they’re both experts at climbing up there, don’t need any help from each other like they had when they were kids. Still, he takes Oikawa’s outstretched hand and lets him help pull him up.

He sits down, their shoulders brushing, Oikawa’s hand never leaving his own. “What’s up for you to call and ask me over this late?”

“Oh, so I have to have a reason now, Iwa-chan? I can’t just ask you over because I want to?”

“Idiot,” he murmurs softly, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder with his own. “Of course you can. It seemed like more than that though.”

“My parents are gone for the weekend. They went to visit my aunt and uncle and I hate being home alone.”

Iwaizumi knows that’s true. Back in junior high Oikawa’s parents had left him home alone to go to some friend’s wedding under the impression that Oikawa would be fine on his own for a few days. (Really, there was no reason for them to think otherwise, especially with Oikawa’s loud assurances that he would be fine alone.)

Not even a day had passed and he was spending the rest of his parents’ trip at Iwaizumi’s house because he didn’t like being alone in the house at all.

“You still scared of the dark?”

Oikawa pouts at the jab. “Am not. Shut up.”

“Then it’s that you think someone’s going to break in.”

“I do not! I just don’t like being by myself.” Alone. Lonely.

He quits with the teasing, squeezes Oikawa’s hand tighter. “You should have said something earlier.”

“You don’t mind, then?”

Another gentle nudge of his shoulder.  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A smile, a nudge back. “Yeah… you are. You always are.”

It’s something that doesn’t need to be answered with words, can instead be conveyed with a reassuring squeeze of his hand. I want to be.

They’re quiet after that, just look at each other, enjoying the moment between them. They might not have many more left, so cherishing every single one is important.

Oikawa is bright, radiant against the dark night sky, fits in perfectly. A bright star that won’t stop shining, that won’t go out even when clouds try to cover him.

(Each look they share, each breath, Iwaizumi falls more and more in love with him.)

Oikawa’s hand is warm in his own, a soft and gentle touch—one that he doesn’t want to end. But it’s a touch that could break, shatter at any moment.

Time ticks on slowly, will continue to tick until their time runs out. It’s inevitable. It will happen.

…He’s dreading it.

But…

“Tooru?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you mean it?”

“As wonderful as I am, I don’t have that great of a memory. What is it, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa is smiling at him—that stupid grin he’s become so accustomed to. It’s the type of smile that he either wants to wipe off of Oikawa’s face or brush his lips against. That decision is always such a struggle…

“That you’d give up something like a soulmate for this?” It’s still a little hard to believe even when he says it out loud. Before, the words seemed like something he had dreamed, told himself as a reassurance, but hearing it our loud… that made it real.

Oikawa laughs at first, quiet and breathless. “You put too much faith in that stuff, Iwa-chan.”

How can I not? It’s normal, isn’t it?

But Oikawa continues before he can say anything, almost like he doesn’t have to think about the question. “Of course I would. I think I’d always choose this.”

The wind sends chills down his spine, brings goose bumps to his skin, but Oikawa is warm. His hand is always so warm. He doesn’t want to let go.

So don’t. 

And that’s the ideal option. But it’s the unknown of the future that scares him. Getting in so deep with this may have been a bad idea. Because even if he and Oikawa don’t want to let go, that may not hold true in the future. Anything could happen.

“Everything is going to change soon, isn’t it?” It will. Next weekend is potentially their last volleyball match together. (Potentially, because he still hopes, no knows, that this time they’re going to win and go to Nationals. There will be more. That won’t end yet.) But even when volleyball is over, the rest of the school year will be filled with preparations for college and graduation. So much will change, will continue to change.  

Oikawa frowns.  “Yeah, but not completely. We’ll still be together. Even though we’re going to different schools we can still live together. They’re not that far apart.”

“You don’t want a fresh start?” It would be the perfect chance.

“Why would I?”

“Because letting go now is easiest.”

There’s a twinge of pain on his arm, like someone just pinched him, but before he can say anything, Oikawa leans forward and brushes their lips together, kissing him for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “Just because something is easy doesn’t mean it’s the best choice.”

He almost laughs. Almost. But instead he presses their foreheads together, swallows any protests or arguments, just looks at Oikawa. Can’t tear his eyes away. “Wow, that’s deep. Where’d you get that?”

“You’re acting like nothing I say is meaningful, Iwa-chan.” He presses another kiss to his lips, leans in closer.

“Because it’s usually not,” Iwaizumi manages to get out between Oikawa’s insistent kisses. 

Oikawa stops with the kisses, but doesn’t pull back, allows their foreheads to continue resting against each other. “Rude.”

“Shut up or I’m going home.”

“I won’t let you. You’re here and I’m not letting you leave.”

It’s said as a joke, but he wonders if there’s more meaning behind it than Oikawa lets on, wonders if it applies to more than just this particular instance. He’s about to say more, but stops when he feels Oikawa shiver beneath his touch. It really is cold out… “Come on, we’re going inside. And I don’t care what you say, but I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, okay.” He takes Iwaizumi’s hand, lets him pull him to his feet so they can head back inside, all thoughts of the cold night air forgotten, replaced with thoughts of holding each other in Oikawa’s warm bed.

…

Iwaizumi thinks about Oikawa’s words later—about what’s easy and what’s best. On one hand, ending this would be easy. It’s a break that will hurt, but will ultimately cause less pain in the long run. But then there’s the other side of it—the one where he doesn’t want it to end, where he doesn’t want there to be any sort of break between them.

It’s not that he wants to give up that easily. Because he doesn’t. He’s willing to fight for this, but wonders if it’s futile in the end—a big waste of time.

Time. That’s funny, because time is the thing that’s keeping them on edge like this. It’s what’s making this all so difficult.

(Sometimes he wishes the timers on their wrists were real, had some sort of physical manifestation. Because then he could act on the urge to smash it and stop their time from slowly ticking away.)

He can’t imagine looking down at a timer that slowly counts down their time together, that is signaling when things will break between them. For that, he’s not envious of Oikawa. He wonders how Oikawa can look at that every day, a constant reminder that they have a time limit placed on them.

At least he doesn’t know when it will end. Watching their time tick by with each passing day would be even more painful. Having the inevitable loom over them as an unknown is one thing. To know the exact amount of time until it is over, until they will break is horrifyingly cruel.

For that reason, he’s almost glad he has a zero on his wrist. Almost.

Even though he doesn’t want it to end—never wants it to end—running is easy. Ending it is easy.

Something that can never last is something that should be ended. Before it hurts too much and they’re at the point of no return.

And maybe that’s selfish. Maybe. Probably.

But hurting more now than later is the best option. Selfish or not, it’s the best—the only—option.

…

The snow falls slowly around them. The storm from earlier that had left heavy snow covering the whole city had tapered off to a much quieter and peaceful snowfall. It’s serene, beautiful. A memory that will stick in his head, one he’d rather remember than what he’s about to do.

Oikawa is chattering about something—Iwaizumi’s not really sure what about, it’s hard to focus when he’s trying to gather the courage to do this—their fingers loosely intertwined, linking them together.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa squeezes his hand, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Everything okay? You’re really quiet.”

Now or never. “Can we talk?”

“We already are talking,” Oikawa jokes, but Iwaizumi can see the curiosity in his eyes, the slight worry behind them. They stop walking, feet firmly planted in the snow, and they’re just looking at each other.

He realizes that Oikawa is waiting for him to say what he needs to, and for a moment, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to. But then it’s tumbling out all at once, so quickly the words jumble together a little. “I think this needs to stop.”

“W-what?” Oikawa’s hand goes limp in his. “What do you mean?” He asks even though he knows exactly what Iwaizumi means.

(It shouldn’t feel like he just shot someone dead. It shouldn’t, but it does.)

For a second he wants to take the words back, to pretend this never happened, but it’s out there now and he realizes it needs to be. Maybe that’s selfish, but it’s something that at least needs to be addressed.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

Oikawa rips his hand away, his initial shock quickly turning to anger. It’s the response that Iwaizumi feared—expected, but feared. “Why not? If we’ve got time and we’re both happy then why does it have to end?”

“Because it will eventually! We can’t keep denying that.”

“So I’m only good enough until something better comes along?”

Iwaizumi sighs angrily, grips Oikawa’s arm tightly. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I’d choose you every single time, but—”

“But what? Who cares what some dumb clock says? Why is there a rule that I can't find someone I want to be with on my own?”

He’s heard this before. He’s heard this so many times before, and he doesn’t get why Oikawa still doesn’t understand that soulmates will trump any other relationship. There’s no chance of this lasting once their time runs out. “You shouldn’t let me hold you back. I don’t want to be the one who does that!”

“You don’t! You never do!” Oikawa grabs his shoulders, holding onto him tightly. “Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that I want this? That I need you?”

He’s breathing heavy, looks upset and frazzled and heartbroken. And there’s a pang in Iwaizumi’s heart because he’s the one who caused this in the first place.

“Why do you want to give up so easily?” Oikawa asks quietly. He’s still squeezing Iwaizumi’s shoulders tightly, like holding on will somehow prevent the end. Really, it’s just prolonging the inevitable, isn’t it?

“Because we don’t have forever.” He doesn’t raise his voice, says it quietly, eyes averted from Oikawa’s. “No matter how much time there is left, one day it’s going to run out. I don’t want to get to that point and have it hurt worse than ending it now would.”

“But we still have plenty of time left. Why not give it a chance and see—?”

“How much time is left?” Iwaizumi asks. “And I want an honest answer. If you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

It’s something they’ve never said, something they’ve always feared talking about. But he wants it in the open now. He wants to know.

“None.”

That, he isn’t expecting. At all. “None? What do you mean?” There’s so much confusion, but he can’t help but notice the way his heartbeat picks up its pace. Is there a possibility that—?

“Mine’s at zero,” Oikawa mutters. “It’s been at zero for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t run.”

What?

Oikawa must see the shocked look on his face because he continues. “I know it’s not normal. I still don’t understand why it’s like this, but…”

No way. There’s no way.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help that I fell in love with you even though I’m not supposed to.” Their eyes finally meet. Oikawa’s are glassy, the beginnings of tears in them now that the truth is finally out. “Hajime, say something. Please say something.”

He doesn’t. Instead, he leans in and kisses him, catching Oikawa completely off guard. But still, Oikawa kisses him back despite the confusion he must be feeling, and for once it feels like everything is going to work out. It’s weightless. There are no worries, no doubts, no fears. For once Iwaizumi is completely free because this isn’t a maybe or a possibility anymore. It’s a definite. A forever.

Because of course it would work out where they’ve had forever within their grasps this whole time, have been dancing around it, unable to see. But now it’s completely clear.

“Mine too,” he whispers when they pull apart. “Mine has been at zero ever since I first looked at it.”

Oikawa freezes, sucks in a breath slowly when he realizes what this means. “Do you think…?”

“We’ve known each other since we were babies. There would have been no way for us to know if it hit zero back then.” This is all still a little unbelievable. Amazing, perfect, but unbelievable that it’s working out this way.

Oikawa nods. “And even if for some reason we’re not, there’s no way to know if there really is someone else out there, so why not continue this?”

There’s no reason to tear them apart this time. None. So he doesn’t protest, doesn’t doubt anything when he wraps his arms around Oikawa in a warm embrace. They’re together. They can be together now. For all time, for all eternity. Forever.

Nothing is in their way.

“I can’t believe this,” Oikawa manages to get out, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. His eyes are still slightly teary from before. “All of this time…”

“All of this time,” Iwaizumi repeats, feeling similar, still unable to completely process this all so quickly. Everything he wanted—they wanted—is more than just a possibility now. It’s a guarantee.

They don’t speak anymore after that. Oikawa leans in and kisses him and it’s perfect. It’s the best thing he could ever ask for.

This had started as a night he wanted to remember nothing about, but now, now he wants to remember everything. He doesn’t want to forget a single detail.

It doesn’t matter that it’s freezing out, that they’re outside on a cold winter night. It doesn’t matter that snow is falling on them, that their feet are chilled and uncomfortable from standing on a sidewalk covered in snow for so long that they can feel the cold starting to seep into their bones. It doesn’t matter that their cheeks are rosy, that they’re shivering the slightest bit because they should have been home a long time ago instead of spending so much time walking there.

All that matters is that they’re holding onto each other tightly, lips locked and hearts thudding in their chests.

Iwaizumi pulls back first, and Oikawa whines a little, starting to protest their loss of contact. “Let’s go home, Tooru.”

Oikawa looks like he wants to kiss him again, like he’d rather spend all night outside just being, just existing, here with each other. “But—”

He rests his hand on Oikawa’s cheek, leans in to press one last quick and chaste kiss against his lips before he pulls back and takes his hand. Their fingers are intertwined, linked. “We’ve got forever for this.”

…

Graduation brings change. Everything will be different now. No more high school, no more volleyball. They’ll be at different universities that are nearby, granted, but it’s still going to be different not to see each other at school every day, and they’ll no longer be playing volleyball together like they’ve always been.

But it’s okay. It’s okay because they’re going to live together, share a small apartment in Tokyo that’s nearby both of their universities. It’s okay because they’re together, happy.

“I love you,” Iwaizumi says when they’re alone together after graduation, ready to face their futures by each other’s sides.

Oikawa smiles. “I love you too.”

And Iwaizumi leans in close, kisses him with a sort of finality—an irreversible promise sealed between them. 

(Together: forever)

It’s something they’ll always be.

Lmaoooooo if you even made it this far i clap for you😂😂😂i gave up reading halfway coz well

not my story!! Credits to its original author :))