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Oikawa slammed the door open, briefcase in one arm, bow-wrapped vase in the other, grin as bright as the sunlight that was warming white walls into cream.
“G’morning, Iwa-chan~!” he sang, prancing over to the windows and whipping the curtains open. “Wow, just look at the weather this dazzling morning!” Shielding his eyes, he squinted into the sun, which was only barely crawling over looming gray buildings. “Must be a good sign, huh? I bet this is a gift from the big guy up there for this special day—after all, who wouldn’t want to reward someone as adorable and talented as me, right?” He laughed. “C’mon, rise and shine already, Iwa-chan, you big fat sleepy head!”
When he received no response, Oikawa sighed and spun around, hands on his hips. “Seriously, Iwa-chan? How long are you gonna lie there for, huh? Geez, after I used up a precious sick day for our anniversary, too! Iwa-chan’s so inconsiderate!”
Still, there was no reply. But Oikawa had gotten used to it by now, so he just rolled his eyes and marched over, plopping down in the wooden chair by Iwaizumi’s bed. “Ugh, I hate this chair,” he muttered under his breath. “Hurts my butt, and not in the good way.”
Setting the vase he’d brought from home on the bedside table, he arranged the red roses carefully before nodding and leaning back. “Sorry these are a little cliché, but Makki and Mattsun said that I should bring something pretty for our anniversary. Dunno what they have against cacti and Venus flytraps. They’re just the cutest. Though I guess it’s okay since we happened to have pink ribbon at home for the vase, not that Iwa-chan understands anything about complementary colours.” Oikawa pressed his lips together, fluffing said ribbon, and then folded his hands into his lap. After a quick wiggle to get as comfortable as he could in the stupid chair, he cleared his throat.
“Anyway, I’m sure you appreciate the amazing flowers I brought you and all, but surprise, surprise: I have another present for you! Because I’m just so great like that! I didn’t know what to get you this year since you weren’t exactly awake to give me hints—” he glared at Iwaizumi’s closed eyes and pale face, “—so I decided to write you a letter.”
He reached into his briefcase to pull out a legal-sized envelope, gingerly peeling open the sealed back and sliding out the thick stack of paper. “Okay, okay, I know, there’s a lot, but I promise it’s not boring, all right? I had to write at least this much. Since I figured, y’know, what with it being our tenth, I’d do something a little more thoughtful than just buying something off a shelf. And somehow it ended up being a letter explaining all the things you do that make me fall a little deeper in love with you. Ahaha. Yeah.”
He breathed in deeply, steadily, and then slowly forced the air out through his nose. “It’s too bad you’re not awake to listen to me read this, because that would’ve been half the fun! Oh, well! Next time, okay?”
Iwaizumi’s heart monitor beeped once extra loudly, as if in agreement. Oikawa grinned and sat up straight. “Okay. Here I go. Ahem.
“‘Dear Iwa-chan. Happy tenth anniversary! I’m mad at you for not taking me to a special dinner or getting me a present or anything on this most auspicious day, but I’ll forgive you if you make up for it next year. Only if you make it super, extra good, though.
“‘You should be grateful that I’m putting so much effort into your present when you can’t even technically experience it, but that’s how much I love you, Iwa-chan. If you were really here right now, you’d probably be blushing and sputtering and pretending you were grossed out. That’s what’s so cute about you, you angry little man! But just for now, I want you to forget about your silly schoolgirl embarrassment and listen closely, okay?
“‘Today, I want to properly convey to you how I feel. Because I’m sure you know that I do love you, but I don’t think you understand the depth of my feelings.’”
Oikawa cleared his throat again and patted the edges of the sheets so that they lined up perfectly.
“‘I know we don’t talk about feelings much, because we’re awkward and we’ve been together for so long that our love seems to just come naturally. I’m sorry it took a drunk driver for me to realize that that wasn’t enough.
“‘Hajime. Even if it’s cheesy as hell and I feel like a total moron writing this, I want you to know how glad I am that you’re in my life. I don’t express my appreciation for all the things you do for me often enough, and even though you can probably tell ninety-percent of the time what I’m thinking, I want to put my feelings into words. Not just for you, but for me, too.
“‘Anyway, I decided to just talk about some recent things for now. If I wrote down all the ways I’ve been loving you since we were children, this letter would be as long as the Great Wall of China, and then Iwa-chan would need to get glasses from reading all the tiny print. And I don’t think you could pull off glasses as well as I do.’” Oikawa smirked. “Just so you know, I drew a winky face after that line because I know how much you adore those.”
He took a deep breath.
“‘Dear Iwa-chan,
“‘I don’t know if you know this, but in the mornings, minutes before the alarm goes off, you always throw an arm around my waist and drag me to your chest. And then you mutter a little under your breath and coil your arms and legs around me like an octopus. You hold on to me so tightly it hurts, but I love it.
“‘When you’re drunk, the first thing you do, and this is backed up by Makki and Mattsun so don’t even bothering denying it, is start looking for me. If I’m not there, you end up drunk-dialing me and making a huge fuss asking what I'm doing. The morning after, you grumble and apologize sheepishly, which is adorable and completely stupid, because you should know that that’s why I love drunk Iwa-chan, right?'" Oikawa chuckled. "Remember that time you got a horrible hangover too? Oh my god, that was hilarious. But I digress." He laughed and shook his head before continuing.
“‘Iwa-chan doesn’t believe in aliens, and doesn’t like watching alien movies much either, but you subscribe to Extraterrestrials Monthly and keep me updated on all the newest intel anyway. I know you get excited from seeing me happy, not because you actually give a crap about extraterrestrial life. Thank you for understanding and sharing my interests, Iwa-chan. I love you.
“‘I’ve noticed that your paperwork has slowly started migrating from your office to the dining room table. That one time I asked about it, you mumbled something about better lighting, but you’ve always been a terrible liar, Iwa-chan! Just admit you’re doing it because you want to be close to me while I’m procrastinating and cracking up at Korean dramas in the living room. Because I love it, and I love being close to you, too.
“‘Do you remember Suga-chan, that psychiatrist friend of mine? He told me once that most failed marriages happen from lack of communication. People run out of things to say to each other when they’re together all day. It makes sense, and I understand, because that happens for me with other people. So I don’t really know why we always have endless conversation topics, or why talking to Iwa-chan doesn’t get boring, even though we know each other so well that I should be able to guess how you'll react to most things. Other times, I need silence, and you’re okay with that, too. I love both our inane chatter and our silences.
“‘Once, you got home from work past midnight, stressed out about a new project, and when I tried to ask about it, you snapped at me. It wasn’t even a huge deal—god knows how many times I've taken my anger out on you...I'm sorry—but you made the most heart-wrenching kicked-puppy face after realizing what you did, and spent the rest of the week being disgustingly nice to me. Iwa-chan, you’re only human, so of course you’re not perfect. I don’t want or need you to be. But I love how you strive to be perfect for me anyway, despite knowing that.'" Oikawa paused, grinning. "Gotta admit though, you buying me all that make-up milk bread was totally worth it. I wouldn't mind if you, y'know, did that more often. Wink wink nudge nudge.
“Okay, moving on! ‘You know that one time we made lists of our favourite foods? Agedashi tofu was ninth on mine, and first on yours. But when we order it, you leave the last one for me anyway, because ‘it’s still in your top ten, Stupidkawa,’ and I love that. But it’s okay, Iwa-chan, just eat it. Seriously.
“‘When I go on business trips, sometimes I forget about the time difference. Or at least, I pretend to, because I’m selfish enough to wake you just to hear your voice. I love the way you always, always pick up even though you know that. Then you act all grumpy and growly but listen to me ramble until I conk out anyway.
“‘There was that one day when I got sick but couldn’t put off going to work, and you ran out to the store to buy me concealer because I was whining about being unpresentable. You used up all of your data for that month sending me pictures of different brands and googling which ingredients would be good for my skin. When you came back, your face was still pink from being stared at by the gossipy ladies in the store, the back of your hand smudged with shades from ivory to warm beige. If the same thing happened again, I know you would do it all over, even as you fake-complain. I love that.
“‘Whenever we get into arguments, you never shut me down with things like “I don’t get what you’re saying,” or “you’re not making sense.” Instead, you demand that I explain what I’m feeling until you understand. No one gets me like you do, Iwa-chan. And no one tries as hard to get me, either. Thank you. I love you.
“‘On my bad days, Iwa-chan wraps me up into a huge blanket cocoon and carries me to the couch so that I can snuggle against you while you do your work. I love the teensy smile you get on your face when I lean extra hard on your nice, hard bicep. Have I ever mentioned how handsome you look during those moments? Because you really, really do.
“‘Speaking of how handsome you look, I love the way you tend to our balcony flowers with that funny concentrated scowl of yours, dirt all over your hands because you hate using gloves. Whenever I find you like that after coming home from a long day of work, I feel all my fatigue washing away! And side note, I know you bought those About Face roses because I said they were pretty once, don’t lie to me, Iwa-chan, there’s no way they magically 'went on sale' the day after.'" Oikawa snickered. "I also know you water them the most because you're so worried they'll die. Don't worry, Iwa-chan, I've been taking good care of them while you've been lying here like a completely useless log.
“‘While watching TV, even if it’s during your oh-so-precious Godzilla movies, you still pay attention to whatever I ramble about. “Is it just me or does Godzilla get uglier with each movie?” I’d say, and you’d pretend to ignore me like I was a nuisance. But then a moment later, you’d follow that up with, “You’re just jealous Godzilla is so badass.” You’re always blowing your prickly cover on your own, Iwa-chan, you dumb, lovable thing.
“‘Although sometimes I have to wait for a while because you’re busy at work, you never fail to reply to all of my texts, even if I only send an emote. I love every single one of your responses, Iwa-chan, especially your terse 'what's and 'you’re an idiot's. I don’t think any other person out there could express so much love in an insult. Surely, that's a superpower, or at least some kind of an exquisite talent. One day I’ll convince you to start using emoticons too, and your world will become all the more colourful, I promise!
“And finally, last one of the day...I let myself be grossly cheesy just this once, so bear with me, okay? 'I love the way you smile, Iwa-chan. Your nose scrunches up and your lips curve over shiny white teeth, and you squint your pretty dark eyes. Most of all, I love the way I make you smile like no one else can, because you’re mine, forever and ever, and no one can change that, not even you!’”
Oikawa heaved out a long sigh. “All right. I think that’s enough for now,” he chirped, shuffling the papers. “That’s just the top fifteen, so get ready for more tomorrow, Iwa-chan! And the day after that. And after that, et cetera, et cetera. I’ve written ninety-six of them so far with no sign of stopping, so let’s get through this together, little by little.” He slipped the stack back into the envelope, neatly folding it closed and zipping it back into his briefcase. Then he frowned down at Iwaizumi, watching his weak breaths puff against the face mask. “That was a little anti-climatic, to say the least. You’re not even crying, Iwa-chan! I went to all that effort for nothing.” Oikawa pouted, eyes sliding over Iwaizumi’s limp hair, his smooth features. He sighed, the pout slipping off his face.
“It’s been nine months now, Hajime,” he said quietly, and took Iwaizumi’s hand in his own. “Doctor said if you don’t wake in twelve, chances are you won’t wake at all. If this were a Korean drama, I would’ve given birth to our child in this time. Ah, but I’m not a girl, so maybe not. Too bad, ‘cause I’d want a kid who looked like you.” Oikawa pursed his lips, waiting for a reaction, but of course was only met with the answer of the heart monitor. “Just kidding, I wouldn’t wish that on my own child. That would be cruelty to its max, haha.” He laid his head on the bed beside Iwaizumi’s arm.
“Anyway, here's your PSA that you have three months before Oikawa-san runs away with a nicer, buffer, smarter, taller guy who’s better at volleyball than you, Iwa-chan. So you’d better get yourself together by then! Oikawa-san’s a catch and you know it!” He bit his lip, mouth pulling tight, and brushed the back of his hand against Iwaizumi’s sunken cheek. Then pressed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, before trailing under his eye.
“I love you, Hajime,” he whispered.
Iwaizumi didn’t so much as twitch.
Oikawa sighed, hand dropping back to his side. He straightened up. “Okay then! I’m gonna grab some sports magazines from the lobby now, so you wait right here. We can read them together and make fun of Tobio-chan and Shrimpy.” Oikawa stood, shooting Iwaizumi his last longing look of the day before stepping out.
***
Oikawa was humming to himself, stuffing his face with milk bread as he bombarded that new kid at work with mocking text messages, when he heard a wheeze.
At first, he thought he’d misheard, but then the consistent beeping that had become his lullaby over the past eleven months began to speed up for the first time, and Oikawa’s phone clattered to the ground.
“Iw—” he choked, coughing down the bread with a hand slamming against his chest. He tried to stand up, but his knees went weak, and he collapsed halfway across Iwaizumi’s arm and chest. The wheezing this time was louder, a clear “hnhh” sound. Oikawa froze as he stared at Iwaizumi’s face, watching for some sign of movement, any sign of movement.
Iwaizumi’s eyelashes fluttered, and a moment later, his eyelids were slowly peeling back. Oikawa trembled all over, mouth dry, the back of his neck prickling. He cupped Iwaizumi’s cheeks, hating that the wetness in his eyes was blurring Iwaizumi’s features.
“H-Hajime?” he whispered.
Iwaizumi’s lips parted, the barest sigh hissing out, eyes hazy.
“Wait! Wait, I—I’ll get the doctor,” Oikawa gasped, but then Iwaizumi’s brows were scrunching together in his telltale scowl, and Oikawa’s relief was so heavy he couldn’t bring himself to move for a second. Iwaizumi let out another shuddering breath, eyes clenching tight in frustration. When he opened them again, the familiar glint of determination in them had Oikawa’s breath rushing from his lungs.
“T-T—hmph. Tooru,” Iwaizumi huffed, and then stronger, halting but crystal-clear: “Tooru. I-I love you.”
Oikawa’s chest shook with restrained emotion, and he swallowed it down, smile quivering. “Took you long enough, stupid Iwa-chan.”
Iwaizumi blinked slowly at him, expression melting into warmth, and Oikawa felt whimpers hitching in his throat, his nose beginning to run. “You stupid, stupid, spiky-head,” he hiccupped. “I hate you, I hate you so much, I love you, I love you, ahh—uhh—”
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi croaked. “Can...can you...?” He broke off into a fit of coughs, and Oikawa snapped up with a sharp inhale, carefully patting his chest with one hand and frantically slamming the button for the nurse with the other. He scrubbed furiously at his eyes and was about to leap up to grab a glass of water, but a warm hand closed around his wrist.
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi murmured weakly. “Wait.”
Oikawa immediately scrambled closer, pressing his face right into Iwaizumi’s. “Yes, Iwa-chan? What do you need?”
Iwaizumi smiled, small and soft and lovely, and Oikawa knew he would do anything to make sure he never lost that smile again.
“Read me your letter again, okay?” Iwaizumi said, corners of his eyes crinkling. “I didn’t hear all of it. Read it to me again, Tooru.”
Oikawa teared up anew, sobs building in his chest as he pressed his fist to his mouth. He nodded frantically, hair bobbing into his eyes. “Okay, Hajime. Okay.”