Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Iwaizumi Hajime had a problem.

Tuesday was supposed to be the most inconsequential day of the week. It just sort of exists – the day after the dreaded Monday, the day before the not so bad Wednesday. Nothing happens on Tuesday. Nobody looked forward to Tuesday. Nobody cared about Tuesday.

But Hajime was fucking stuck in it.

He passed it off as a case of very unsettling deja vu at first. He was tired and between school, upcoming exams, and volleyball – the days had a tendency to run together. He’d just make sure to get a few extra hours of sleep and everything would be fine. Everything would be perfectly normal. There was no possible way he’d just lived through the same day twice. That was ridiculous.

When he woke up on Tuesday for the third time, he squashed the sense of urgency to the back of his brain, replacing it with a denial so deep he didn’t even acknowledge the passage of time as he mechanically emulated himself from the previous days. He ignored Oikawa’s mutterings of body snatchers and Hanamaki playing the twilight zone theme song on his phone at random intervals, almost glad because that was different. He was definitely just sleep deprived. He’d go to sleep even earlier this time and it would be Wednesday and –

His eyes snapped open precisely three seconds before his phone alarm screamed bloody murder in his ear, some shitty pop song Oikawa downloaded on his phone and Hajime accepted to be annoying enough to force him out of bed in the morning (if only to hate the world he lived in).

Besides, nothing said good morning like the cultivated instinct to slap pop idols (and Oikawa) in the face. He settled for slapping his phone across the room instead after confirming that, yes, it was Tuesday. Again.

What the fuck, Tuesday? Hajime’s brain spat as he groaned and covered his face with an arm.

“This is Oikawa’s fault,” he determined after cycling through the cause of everything that has ever gone wrong in his life. They all had a very common element.

He narrowed his eyes out his window towards the house directly across the street where a single window was lit amidst the predawn darkness. A single window withholding the presence of the most insufferable living creature to ever inhabit the planet Earth.

Oikawa Tooru.

Hajime spent a solid five minutes mentally projecting death threats in the window’s direction until the second alarm he always forgot about howled at him to get the fuck out of bed and flush his phone down the toilet and systematically take down the J-pop industry for all the pain and suffering he has endured.

Iwaizumi Hajime was not a morning person. He was most certainly not a Tuesday morning person.

He dragged himself over to his discarded phone, sheets still wrapped around his body, and ended his misery. Some of it, anyways. Oikawa’s face winked up at him from the screen where it alerted him of thirteen unread messages.

All selfies.

“Motherfuckin’ Tuesday.”

“Good morning, Iwa-chan!” Shittykawa greeted, bouncing up on his toes and looking far too awake (far too alive) for Hajime’s liking. He was always like that after nights he couldn’t sleep. Hajime suspected he replaced his blood with caffeine to manage it. He grunted as he shuffled out of his front door and past the other human being he’s somehow been coerced into naming his best friend for the entirety of his life thus far. “Wow, you're looking even more brutish than usual today! If only you’d take my advice and use that skin cream I gave you ages ago, you might be a quarter as handsome as me. Maybe. Probably not. Wishful thinking never hurt anyone, though.”

Iwaizumi was used to this sort of conversation. In fact, he was used to this specific conversation as he had heard the same words in the same tone from the same mouth in the same damned morning four times in a row now. The past three times he responded appropriately: Insult, headlock, mess up hair until Oikawa begs for forgiveness, continue onward to morning practice. But not this time, oh no.

“Ugh,” he groaned pathetically as he pushed Oikawa’s chipper face away from where it was hovering much too close to his own.

“So eloquent, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa praised. “You should stop staying up so late looking at my beautiful selfies if this is how you’re going to be in the morning.”

“I hate you so much,” Hajime said, prompting Oikawa to laugh loudly and throw an arm around his shoulders.

“You really are grumpy today,” Oikawa noted curiously as his eyes flickered across his face. Hajime grimaced and wondered (hoped) for the third day in a row if he was just going insane.

“Hey. What was that American movie we watched a few months ago with the guy that kept reliving the same day over and over after he died? With the aliens?” he asked. Predictably, Oikawa immediately went into nerd mode, brown eyes round and bright.

“The Edge of Tomorrow?” he answered eagerly.

“Yeah, that. How’d the guy get out of his time loop again?”

“Well, the ability was in his blood – so when he got a blood transfusion – ”

“A blood transfusion?” Well, that’s not happening.

“Yeah, he lost the ability that way. But then –”

“Yeah, got it, a blood transfusion. What about other movies when people relive the same day? How do they get out of it?”

Oikawa grabbed Hajime’s arm and pulled him to an abrupt halt, spinning him around to stare him down. Unease spread through Hajime’s gut as he recognized the fanatical look on his friend’s face.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said very seriously, staring deeply into Hajime’s eyes. “Do you want to have a time travel movie marathon with me?” His voice was low and the unease ran up Hajime’s spine as he recognized the tone as one of the few Oikawa used while flirting with girls.

“No way,” he replied on instinct as he spun back around and continued walking.

“But why?” Oikawa whined after a pause, scurrying forward to catch up with him. “I think its a good idea – I haven’t watched any movies in a while because of volleyball. But now that nationals have been unjustly stolen from us by ungrateful jerks –” Oikawa’s speech devolved into bitter insults as he kicked the ground beneath his feet. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Who cares.”

“Rude.”

It was in English class that Hajime decided that maybe he really should care about Oikawa’s shitty sci-fi movies as he was forced to read the same frustrating passage from the same awful book for the fourth motherfucking time. Apparently the repetition helped, because the teacher actually looked marginally less disgruntled than usual as he correctly pronounced remuneration, a word he couldn’t even remember the definition of but fuck if he was going to say it wrong it one more time.

It was (finally) during lunch when the desperately lingering denial which was still happily settled on Hajime’s shoulders like a cloak of rusty nails spiked into his skin was forcibly pried off. He ignored his classmates flowing out of the room around him as he stared blankly at nothing. He dropped his head down onto his desk and allowed himself a moment of peace.

That was a lie.

Iwaizumi Hajime panicked, the cool laminated wood pressed against his skin doing nothing to calm him as he nearly ripped the hair from his skull, wondering why this was happening to him.

Hajime was a simple man. He liked volleyball and good food. He occasionally even liked his friends. He had zero interest in his life becoming the plot to one of Oikawa’s bad movies. It took him several minutes of internal turmoil before he noticed that he had company.

“And then, Makki, and then – long story short, when I was confidently certain we were halfway to being married I realized that was stupid because I didn’t even know her name.”

Hajime pulled his face off of the desk it was trying to meld with. Hanamaki and Matsukawa sat across from him, identical degrees of amusement splattered across their faces. A jab from his left had him turning his head to catch a view of Oikawa side-eying him, an annoying quirk to his lips.

“Do you know what happened then, Iwa-chan?” he asked, giving Hajime his full attention while knowing full well that he’d barely heard a word of the story.

But Hajime was prepared.

“You found out her surname was Ushijima, nearly had a heart attack, threw yourself into traffic where you almost got run over by a bicycler who turned out to be Hinata Shoyou from Karasuno where you spent half an hour accusing him of an assassination attempt directed by Kageyama. Then Kageyama showed up and followed you around interrogating you about your serving technique until you lost him in a sporting goods store by knocking over a shelf of tennis balls,” Iwaizumi summarized. The full story was practically soldered into his brain by this point.

There were very few moments in Hajime’s life when he’s experienced Oikawa at a loss for words and even fewer times when he was the reason behind it. He almost gloated at the dumbfounded look on his friend’s face, but was still too caught up in the aftermath of his minor breakdown to muster it.

He’d remember to cherish the moment later.

“Well,” Matsukawa snickered, not even phased that Iwaizumi already knew what happened. “It could be worse. You could have run into Ushiwaka himself right after.”

Oikawa snapped his head back to Matsukawa, “You don’t have to bring up worse nightmare scenarios, Mattsun.”

“Nevertheless, I will. Probably just because I’m an asshole.”

“You’re just being honest,” Hanamaki reasoned, patting Matsukawa on the back. “Really though, why are all these lovely girls lining up to go out with you when you don’t even bother to learn their name until the end of your date? How uncouth of you.”

“I think they want to date him solely for the opportunity of dumping him,” Hajime responded purely on principle, letting his face fall back onto the desk.

“So mean, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined. “It wasn’t a date in the first place; we were just two attractive strangers chatting to pass the time – until she revealed her true nature. Ushiwaka-chan surely sent her to spy on me to figure out what university I’m going to so he can make sure to go to a rival university and judge me for another four years.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure he always makes important life decisions based on what you do,” Matsukawa said.

“He exists to aggravate me; so yes, obviously,” Oikawa complained, pouting at the two snickering at him. He crossed his arms while redirecting a suspicious stare at Hajime. “And Iwa-chan, I know for a fact I didn’t tell you that story yet. Were you following me around after school yesterday? Are you my stalker, Iwa-chan?”

“You really must be full of yourself if you think I’d waste my free time following you around,” he replied, reaching over to give Oikawa a hard pinch on the arm.

Ignoring his captain’s over dramatic proclamations of pain Matsukawa asked, “Besides, weren’t you with Kindaichi and Kunimi after school yesterday, Iwaizumi?”

“Wait. You ditched me to hang out with the first years?”

Hajime ignored Oikawa as he replied. “Yesterday,” he recited dryly. “Yeah, yesterday they asked me during lunch to practice with them after school. They both wanted some extra tips on spiking.”

“Wait, wait – hold on. They hog you enough on practice days, they shouldn’t be allowed to steal you on off days too!”

“Wow, you sound more upset about this than you did about Iwaizumi stalking you,” Hanamaki said.

“He actually sounded kind of excited about Iwaizumi stalking him,” Matsukawa said.

“I wasn’t stalking Oikawa,” Hajime denied as he pushed his face further into the crook of his arm, determined to pretend he was asleep.

“You still didn’t say how you knew what happened to me yesterday.”

“Now I think Oikawa is upset that you’re not stalking him.”

“Why are you guys bothering me in my classroom anyways?” Hajime complained, suddenly resigned to the fact that no one was going to shut up.

“The captain had some great story to tell all of us. We’re still waiting,” Matsukawa said as Oikawa squawked indignantly.

“I’m sorry that Iwa-chan’s stalking tendencies ruined my re-dramatization.”

“Well, anyways – I’m really just here because I wanted a rematch,” Hanamaki said as he set his arm out on the desk and stared expectantly. Matsukawa knocked his arm off the table.

“I know you want to beat Iwaizumi at least once at arm wrestling, but going after him when he looks like death warmed over is pretty lame. You should wait until the light is completely gone from his eye – he’ll be no match for you then. Probably just a few more minutes at this rate,” he advised. Hanamaki shrugged, unconcerned.

“Stalker-chan, did you stalk me yourself or are you in cahoots with Ushiwaka-chan and got the info from someone else?” Oikawa interrogated before the other two could completely redirect the conversation.

“Goodbye,” Hajime said as he calmly stood up and headed for the door. He heard chairs scraping the ground behind him as he left.

“Wait, Iwa-chan!”

“It’s your own fault, Captain. Your narcissism is getting a little ahead of itself today,” Hajime heard Hanamaki tease as they followed him out into the hall.

“Excuse you – the world is lucky someone as attractive as me exists in it. The three of you should feel blessed for the opportunity to have basked in my presence for so many years,” Oikawa proclaimed. Hajime’s headache was quickly evolving into a migraine. He walked faster.

“My statement still stands,” Hanamaki affirmed.

He heard someone break into a jog as he turned the corner. Matsukawa caught up and slowed to match Hajime’s pace.

“All jokes aside – you feeling alright? You were a bit out of it at practice this morning too,” he asked.

Hajime let out a frustrated breath and shot him a fleeting glance. “I’m losing my mind.”

“Well, you’ve been best friends with Oikawa your entire life. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“I heard that, Mattsun,” Oikawa grumbled from a few paces behind. “But Iwa-chan, maybe you should sit out at practice today.”

“Not going.”

“What?” Oikawa asked, a note of urgency straining his voice. Hajime suddenly had a face full of Oikawa and a hand against his forehead. He scowled, but let Oikawa fuss. “Do you have the flu? Have you been sleeping enough? Did our greedy kouhais work you to exhaustion? Did you overdose on my selfies? Have you fallen in love recently? If you fell in love with one of my selfies – that’s perfectly normal, but I’d recommend you move onto the real thing and join my fan club.”

Hanamaki let out a low whistle. “Wow, the captain is at 150% percent today.”

“Must have stolen that extra 50% from Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa continued.

“And I’m 200% out of here.” Hajime concluded, slapping Oikawa’s hand away and continuing his escape. As he rounded another corner to take the stairwell down, he was blocked by Kindaichi and Kunimi who appeared to be in the midst of an argument. He sighed.

“Eep,” Kindaichi squeaked. Kunimi stood next to him, the urge to roll his eyes as clear as day on his uncharacteristically expressive face. Iwaizumi understood that look. He lived that look. “I-Iwazuimi-san!” Kindaichi continued to squeak, face turning a concerning shade of puce.

“Oh no, nuh uh – Not this time, my dear first years,” Oikawa said as he rounded the corner, placing himself in front of Hajime. “Iwa-chan’s really sick and he can’t help either of you at practice today. So don’t even ask!” Kindaichi opened his mouth. “NOPE. No asking, Kindaichi-kun! He’s going to sit on the sidelines and rest until I can walk him home and make sure he doesn’t die a sad, lonely death without me.”

“What the hell, Crappykawa?” Hajime boxed Oikawa’s ears and pulled him back into a choke hold, his patience beyond expended. “Did you inject pure sugar into your veins this morning? You’ve graduated from annoying to infuriating.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa croaked, “Injecting sugar straight into my veins would defeat the purpose of sugar. But I might have eaten a few milk breads for breakfast. And lunch.”

“You’re disgusting,” Hajime deadpanned. “And yeah – Sorry, Kindaichi – Kunimi. I’m not planning on making it to practice today, but I’ll work with you another time.” He started down the stairs, dragging Oikawa along with him. Despite the fact that his head was still locked tight in the crook of Iwaizumi’s arm with his ass sticking out behind him as they shuffled along, Oikawa made a smug face and a peace sign as they passed the duo.

“Feel better soon, Iwaizumi-san! Bye Oikawa-san!” Kindaichi practically shouted while still managing to sound nervous for whatever reason. Kindaichi has always been a little weird around them – not in a bad way. Not anything like Oikawa at least.

Hajime briefly wondered why those two were on the third year’s floor. He hadn’t run into them during lunch on this terrible day before, always sticking to the routine of meeting up with Oikawa in the hall and being subjected to his story of inevitable betrayal and suffering until the bell rang.

His train of thought was derailed as Oikawa tripped and nearly brought the both of them tumbling down the flight of steps. They grappled onto each other, trying to regain some semblance of balance as they teetered perilously, but Oikawa put too much weight on Hajime and knocked them both backwards in a tangle of limbs – fortunately up the steps. Hajime took a minute to catch his breath as his heart hammered in his chest.

Yeah, they were athletes alright. Graceful as fuck.

I wonder if I’d still be stuck in a time loop if I snapped my neck and died. Maybe I already died and this is hell, Hajime thought. At least all these years with this idiot prepared me for it.

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa breathed. He was in a similar state collapsed on top of Hajime, head pillowed against his chest. A sharp wave of concern unwittingly lashed through Hajime. It was an awkward fall – If Oikawa twisted his knee or – “Your hand is on my butt.”

Hajime proceeded to make a sound he’d deny until his dying day as he shoved him off and hurriedly sat up, wincing as the steps dug into his back.

“Dammit, Oikawa.”

“What? I’m not the one groping people in stairwells.”

Hajime groaned as Oikawa laughed. His laugh was light and lacked the vindictive edge that often accompanied it, forcing an involuntary smile to crack open on Hajime’s face.

“Shut up, dumbass,” he said, kicking Oikawa’s foot. He was just glad the stairwell was empty and that Kindaichi and Kunimi apparently seemed to be staying up on the third floor with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He tried to rub the smile off of his face while Oikawa got whatever out of his system.

He kicked Oikawa’s foot with more force.

“Pfft, Iwa-chan,” he tried to say as he broke out into another fit of laughter. Hajime gave up hiding his grin and looked away.

“Shut up, it’s really not that funny.”

Oikawa raised a hand as he wheezed, waving him off. Iwaizumi dropped his face into hands.

“So – haha, Iwa-chan,” he tried again. “Are you really going to skip practice today?”

Hajime propped his chin on a hand and hummed. “Yeah. I was shit already at morning practice; don’t need to embarrass myself again.” But it would be more accurate to say he needed a better location for a more thorough mental breakdown. Namely his room. Under every blanket and pillow he owned.

“I guess I can forgive you this time, since you were giving extra lessons on our day off.”

“Get over it.”

“We were supposed to get ramen, Iwa-chan. I’m very offended.”

Hajime ignored him and kicked Oikawa’s foot one more time before standing up. “Come on, I need something to eat before lunch ends.”

“I might have some extra milk bread –“

“No.”

Oikawa Tooru has never missed a single day of practice voluntarily. If he was a computer program, volleyball would be the first objective in his priority queue. Probably second and third as well, because there was no chance in hell his code would be a well written one, let alone make a lick of sense.

So needless to say, Hajime was thrown for a loop as Oikawa followed him off campus with barely a mournful gaze in the direction of the gym.

He didn’t say anything, but Oikawa must have been able to sense the question looming in the space between them as he caught Hajime’s eye and forced himself to stand up straight.

“I – I feel like such a rebel,” Oikawa said with something Hajime would reluctantly describe as pride.

“Seriously? Go to practice, moron.”

“Hmm, they need to get used to the two of us not being there anyways. Yahaba has been getting a little too desperate for my advice lately. Its been making me feel like there’s some giant timer ticking away over my head.”

“There is one. Its called graduation,” Hajime informed.

Oikawa crossed his arms and bit his lip. “No need to remind me. If only we could just relive the entire year; press a reset button – we’d leave Karasuno and Shiratorizawa in pieces.”

Hajime cringed at the wording, his own problems ringing in his head. Knowing better than to follow up on that statement, he slapped Oikawa’s back, sending him stumbling forward.

“Time to look ahead, Shittykawa. You’re going to have an entirely new host of teams to shred to pieces pretty soon.”

“Your team included?”

“Shut up.”

“You know, it’s not too late for you to switch universities,” Oikawa practically sang. Hajime aggressively ruffled the laughing Oikawa’s hair. His victim managed to escape, but didn’t continue the conversation.

“I’d better not get any ‘you should have come to Tokyo’ messages when we move. I’ll find Ushijima and give him so much blackmail material, you’ll be at his beck and call for the rest of your life.”

“As if I have anything I’m ashamed of,” Oikawa said as he flaunted his signature smile and ran a hand through his over-styled hair. A few girls giggled as they passed by and any sympathy Hajime might have had for Oikawa disappeared as he winked and blew a kiss to them.

“Last Sunday on the train.”

Oikawa cringed and grabbed Hajime’s shoulders. “You were involved too! You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’d take myself out if it meant dragging you down with me.”

“The worst! You’re the worst, Iwa-chan!”

“I guess that’s why you’re walking me home so I don’t die a sad, lonely death.”

“You know me well,” Oikawa said, dropping the theatrics as he grabbed Hajime’s wrist, swinging their arms as they walked. It was something he used to do all the time when they were kids and Hajime really just didn’t have the energy to stop him anymore. “So,” Oikawa started, peering at him with amused suspicion. “What are you so stressed out about today?”

He debated giving some bullshit answer, knowing Oikawa wasn’t one to push a subject unless he was genuinely trying to be an ass, but quite frankly Hajime was at a loss and Oikawa was his best friend. Somehow. Maybe he should have seen the signs of mental instability much sooner.

“I’ve been living the same day over and over,” he said, scowling at his own words, still unable to accept the absurdity of them. Oikawa remained quiet for a moment, breaking his gaze to stare out ahead of them all the while swinging their arms like the overgrown toddler he was.

“Well, that’s school for you, Iwa-chan. Let’s go do something exciting to make up for it!”

“No, I mean I’ve been living the same day over and over. This day. Tuesday. Today makes it the fourth time I’ve woken up on the same exact day,” Hajime reiterated.

Oikawa stopped swinging their arms, but tightened his grip as he whipped his head to stare at Hajime’s pinched expression. A faint smile tried to work its way onto his lips but it dissipated the longer he watched Hajime.

“That’s -”

“That’s how I knew what happened to you on Monday after school. I’ve heard that story during lunch three times,” Hajime interrupted, feeling stupider with every word. He clenched his teeth and used his free hand to cover his face.

It was a silent and mortifying moment later when Oikawa finally said something. “...So you weren’t stalking me?”

Hajime yanked his hand out of Oikawa’s grip where it was awkwardly hanging between them and stormed off in the opposite direction.

“Wait! Wait, I believe you. Hold on a second,” Oikawa shouted, resting a hand on his back as he caught up. “Iwa-chan.”

“Don’t humor me, Assikawa. I’m just going fucking insane. I don’t even believe me.”

“Really though, I believe you,” Oikawa tried again, forcing Hajime to look at him. His face was oddly serious for a non-volleyball situation, but his eyes were goddamn huge and practically gleaming. “Iwa-chan, I can tell when you’re lying or joking around and – and you’re not. So you’re either a time traveler or nuts, and you know what I’d prefer to believe.”

“Wow, thanks,” Hajime muttered sarcastically as he frowned at the sidewalk. His scowl deepened as he looked up to find Oikawa staring at him like he was turning into a xenomorph right in front of him. Only Oikawa would be happy about that. “So what do I do?” he asked, still unsure if Oikawa actually believed him, but at a loss himself.

“What do you do? What do you mean what do you do? You can do anything, Iwa-chan! The world is in your hands – you can do anything you want with no consequences, but you’ve been what? Going to school everyday? How boring. This is a once in a – a – a quintillion lifetimes opportunity! Why would you waste time at school where you learn boring things when you could stay in bed all day and transform into a spaceship!”

“What the hell? Transform into a spaceship?”

“It’s called imagination, Iwa-chan. I know you don’t have much of it, but I’m sure even you could recognize it from time to time.”

Hajime’s eye twitched and he reached up to pinch Oikawa’s cheek.

“Ow-ow-ow, not my face! Stop it! Ouch!”

Hajime let him go, glaring as Oikawa rubbed his face, fake tears pooling beneath brown eyes as the most pathetic pout Hajime’s ever seen stole across his face. Considering how long he’s known Oikawa, it was saying something.

“But really – you’d better tell me every morning from now on! We’ve wasted so many opportunities already.”

“What do you mean we? I’m the only stuck here,” Hajime crossed his arms as Oikawa continued sulking.

“Doesn’t matter,” he waved off. “If the day’s going to reset – even if I don’t remember it, I’d still rather not waste my time at school.”

“I’d rather just get out of this completely.”

“Get out of it? Iwa-chan, don’t disappoint me. Take advantage of it! You could hone your volleyball techniques to perfection! Binge watch all of the movies and TV shows you haven’t had time for this year! Make a move on the person you like and not worry about rejection! Kick Ushiwaka in the balls and live to see another day! Eat milk bread all day everyday without worrying about getting fat or sick! Seriously, you better tell me every morning. My mom just bought almost an entire store’s worth of milk bread and I’m going to eat all of it. Today. Right now,” He reached into his pack and pulled out a roll of milk bread then and there.

“That’s – Never mind, I’m not even going to say it. I don’t care about taking advantage of this – whatever it is. I just want to live my life.”

Oikawa stood back as the excitement visibly drained from his face and he plastered on a fake smile. He raised his arms and sighed, the effect honestly kind of ruined by the bread roll in his hand.

“Right, right. Living your life – graduation’s coming up and I know you absolutely can’t wait for university. I bet this is all really inconvenient for you,” he shook his head and looked down at his feet as he took a small bite of the sugar disguised as food. Before Hajime could defend himself or figure out why the hell it bothered Oikawa so much, his friend shrugged off whatever moodiness came over him and pushed him forward. “So you want to get out of a time loop! You’ve come to the right person, Iwa-chan! According to every movie, book, and TV show ever – you have to learn a valuable life lesson and suddenly you’ll be back on track. Unless aliens are involved. Aliens aren’t involved, are they?” He looked hopeful as he asked the question.

“What? No! What do you mean, ‘a valuable life lesson’? How is that going to help me?”

“Don’t question it! It’s just how it works. If you want proof, I have a two terabyte hard drive dedicated to science fiction and horror movies – and time travel is a decent chunk of it. So how about that marathon?” Oikawa asked, a much too pleased grin stretched across his face.

Hajime shifted on his feet; very confused about the earlier shift in personality, but hesitant to confront Oikawa about it. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“Of course, we won’t be able to get through all of it today, but when the day starts over for you, you can just pick up where we left off,” Oikawa said, blinked, and dropped into another pout. “This really isn’t fair. Why do you get to have all the fun? You don’t even like having fun. How do I get stuck in a time loop? How did you get stuck in a time loop?”

Hajime resisted the urge to inflict bodily harm. Just barely.

“I don’t know! And weren’t you just saying it didn’t matter if you don’t remember what happened as long as you kept getting to waste your day?”

“Hey! Don’t throw my words back at me! Anyways – what time does the reset happen?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I just go to sleep and when I wake up it’s Tuesday again,” he tried to explain.

“Pay attention tonight so you can make full use of your time in the future. Ha, future. Get it?”

Hajime shot him a withering glare which was received by an innocent smile. The rest of the walk to Oikawa’s house was in a somewhat comfortable silence. Hajime knew that something was seriously bothering Oikawa and he had a hunch as to what it was – but it wasn’t something a good talk was likely to fix. Especially not when the next day wasn’t even a guaranteed thing.

“Hey,” Hajime later said while Oikawa was setting up the videos to play on his TV. “Thanks.”

I feel better knowing I’m not completely alone in this, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to. Oikawa lifted his head up from where he kept plugging the USB in backwards and beamed.

“Anything for Iwa-chan!”

For the first time since the first reset – Hajime managed to relax, smiling back at Oikawa and trying to enjoy the fact he was just going to spend the day with his best friend watching a lot of terrible movies that Hajime might have given Oikawa a lot of shit for, but actually enjoyed himself. Bad acting, bad special effects, nonsensical plot lines – it was a guilty pleasure and Oikawa knew it, the bastard. It was partially his fault.

Maybe using this stupid time loop thing to relax wasn’t such a bad idea. School has been getting to be a bit much, especially since he decided to continue volleyball with Oikawa to help their underclassmen prepare for their following year.

It was well after eleven when Oikawa shook himself out of the food coma he managed to fall into after eating another seven rolls of milk bread. He yawned and pressed his face into Hajime’s arm where he’d slumped against him on the floor hours ago, his glasses long since abandoned on the bed behind them. He blearily eyed the screen in front of them, likely only seeing a series of colorful blurs.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.”

“What?” Hajime asked as the main character in the movie tried to shoot at her crazy future self. At least he didn’t have that problem. He narrowed his eyes. Yet.

“There’s really nothing you’d want to take advantage of with daily reset superpowers?” he mumbled through the gunfire.

“I don’t know. It kind of seems like cheating, doesn’t it? Life isn’t supposed to have cheat codes,” Hajime replied. Oikawa snorted, an ugly sound which made him laugh even harder into Hajime’s arm. Hajime tried to shove him off, but Oikawa just clung on. “It’s seriously not that funny, fuck. Why? What would you do?” he asked, almost dreading the answer. Oikawa would undoubtedly do some stupid shit if it happened to him and Iwaizumi would certainly be involved in most of it – even if he wouldn’t be able to remember it in the end, it wasn’t a comforting thought.

“Are you kidding? What wouldn’t I do? The first thing would be kicking Ushiwaka in the balls, that has to happen no matter what, Iwa-chan. I’m counting on you for that – I’ll settle for living vicariously through your memory. And obviously, I’d master everything there was to master in volleyball. It’s not cheating, it’s just taking advantage of time nobody else has,” Oikawa reasoned, still slumped over on Hajime and looking like he needed another ten years of sleep.

“That’s it? I thought you’d have something better than that. That sounds like what you already try to do everyday.”

“I have a lot of plans, Iwa-chan. In fact, I have an ingenious one planned out right now. Maybe you’ll find out about it tomorrow. You’d better let me know about this right away – call me right when you wake up! But – hey, wait. Its pretty late and the day hasn’t reset yet.”

“I’m usually asleep by now,” Hajime admitted. “Maybe if I stay awake all night it won’t happen.”

Oikawa froze. Hajime could feel eyelashes brushing against the skin of his arm as Oikawa sucked in a deep breath.

“Iwa-chan, go to sleep.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’ll be really sleep deprived all day tomorrow if you don’t? Sleep is very important.”

“I think that might be the most hypocritical thing I’ve ever heard you say. And you say a lot of shit.”

Oikawa threw all of his weight on Hajime, forcing him to fall over, and proceeded to slump over him like the world’s worst blanket. Hajime thrashed a bit, trying not to make too much noise in case they woke Oikawa’s parents, but it was futile as Oikawa tightened his hold on him like a damned boa constrictor.

“Tooru, you shithead,” Oikawa snickered at the slippage of his name, “If you think this would make anyone fall asleep, you are beyond help.” When he never got a response, he sighed and craned his neck to try and get back into the movie, living blanket be damned. The woman on screen was now surrounded by dozens of dead copies of herself and Hajime had no idea what was going on. Not that the movie made any sense in the first place.

“It’s almost midnight.”

Hajime would have jumped if he wasn’t still imprisoned in Oikawa cling wrap, having been engrossed in the drama unfolding on screen. He still had no idea what was happening, but there was a lot of blood and out of sync screaming.

It was pretty great.

“Yup.”

“I feel sick.”

“Weird. It’s not like you’ve eaten your weight in sugar or anything.”

“Ugh, Iwa-chan. You’d better reset the day if only for the sake of my stomach and slim figure.”

“Now I want it to be Wednesday even more.”

Oikawa loosened his grip and rolled off of Hajime and onto his side, staring at him with betrayal in his eyes. Hajime flicked his nose, grinning when it scrunched up – all of that attractiveness and vanity Oikawa always paraded around and girls chattered about reduced to ugly lines coupled with an extraordinarily bad case of bedhead. That was the Tooru he’s always known.

“Hey,” Oikawa started, looking somewhere around Hajime’s ear. “Either way, tomorrow –“

Hajime’s eyes snapped open precisely three seconds before his phone alarm screamed bloody murder in his ear.

All of the tension lost by wasting the day with Oikawa immediately returned as his phone hollered something about wanting to hold his hand through the rings of Saturn.

“No, no, no, no – ” he chanted as he disabled the alarm and checked the date yet again.

Tuesday, thirteen unread messages from Oikawa.

“Fuck. Damn. Shit,” he continued cursing into his pillow until he ran out of breath. He was (still) really, seriously hoping he’d just been having some sort of mental breakdown due to stress and anxiety, but he couldn’t cling to that idea anymore in the slightest after the previous day. He didn’t follow the routine; he broke it and created a day he hadn’t lived before even though it was still Tuesday.

And it was Tuesday yet again.

His second alarm blared on and he nearly screamed. Three indecipherable minutes later found him trekking across the street to Oikawa’s house and using the key he was given to take care of the cats whenever the family went out of town. He hurried up the steps to Oikawa’s room and heedlessly threw the door open.

“Um. Hi?” Oikawa blinked owlishly in Hajime’s direction from in front of his computer screen, already dressed for morning practice. He had two rolls of milk bread on his desk and what seemed to be an infinite number of tabs of twitter open. Oikawa’s cat, Chiro, jumped out of his lap and escaped through the door – probably thinking there was food waiting for her. “Iwa-chan, are you a burglar now? You’re not a very good one – you’re not even wearing a shirt. How unprofessional.”

Hajime knew Oikawa wouldn’t remember the previous day, but it was the first time it really struck him. All of their jokes, Oikawa’s stupid plans for the time loop – just gone. He looked at the space in front of the TV they’d been camped out the entire afternoon and night. The dumbass who was literally just wrapped around him right there didn’t exist anymore.

He never existed.

Hajime pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes as exhaustion and a bit of something else kicked in. Of all days to be stuck in, why would it be the one he woke up feeling like he’d been hit by a train?

His hand was forcibly pried from his face as Oikawa invaded his personal space and stared him down.

“If you’re getting sick, I’ll punch you,” Oikawa said without remorse. “I think you said that to me once, it was mean Iwa-chan! Now you know what it feels like.” he said, grinning.

Hajime slapped the back of Oikawa’s head and barreled past him towards the computer and unplugged the hard drive with his movies.

“I’m watching these,” he finally said. The bewildered expression on Oikawa’s face intensified.

“Right now?”

“Yeah,” he tried plugging the hard drive into the TV, but somehow managed to put in the USB backwards seven times in a row. He glared at the plug until Oikawa gently pried it out of his hands and plugged it in himself, his expression clearly torn between concern and amusement.

“Why don’t you lie down?” Oikawa much too calmly suggested while handing him the remote and a roll of milk bread. Hajime furrowed his brow, but took them nonetheless. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Oikawa said, shooting him a disarming smile after guiding him back towards the bed and forcing him down.

The disorientation from having been very awake to suddenly be in the stages of waking up somewhere else entirely (coupled with the fact that Hajime really fucking wasn’t a morning person) suddenly hit him hard. He abandoned the bread roll on the side table and fell back on the bed, grabbed a pillow, and shoved it over his face. He was well on his way to suffocating himself when the door clicked and Oikawa plopped down next to him. He threw the pillow aside and looked at him, the all too familiar wave of deja vu hitting him as he found Oikawa lying on his side, staring back.

Despite his apparent wakefulness, there were obvious lines under Oikawa’s eyes that Hajime couldn’t help but suspect he was planning to cover up with the stick of concealer he knew was stashed in the inner pocket of his gym bag, likely ‘appropriated’ from one of his ex-girlfriends. He hadn’t noticed any lines the previous mornings.

“You didn’t get any sleep at all, did you?” Hajime asked when Oikawa didn’t say anything.

Oikawa flashed a grin and said, “You know me well.”

“You’re right. I do know you well,” Hajime responded as he sat up and turned the TV on, switching the input to play from the USB and skipping down to the folder Oikawa actually had labeled ‘TIME TRAVEL’.

“I told you last night you should have come over and joined me in my insomnia, but no, Iwa-chan is no fun at all,” Oikawa whined while sitting up and draping himself over Hajime as he scrolled through the list of movies, trying to remember what the one he hadn’t finished was called. “Why the sudden need to watch movies?” he asked into his ear.

“I’m stuck in a time loop. This is research,” Hajime bluntly stated as he took a minute to contemplate the title of one movie. Oikawa stood up from the bed and shrugged his sports jacket off as he grabbed a blanket next to his laptop. Hajime eyed him. “Morning practice is soon,” he dutifully reminded, part of him hoping Oikawa would leave so he could have time to get over his discontent that his friend really didn’t remember anything.

“What kind of friend would I be if I left you here to lose your mind without me?” Oikawa asked.

“A better one.”

“Rude, as usual. Maybe you’re not completely gone just yet. And besides – the team needs to get used to us not being around; the first and second years have been getting a little desperate for attention lately,” Oikawa said through a grimace.

“Feels like some giant timer is ticking away over our heads,” Hajime murmured tiredly. Oikawa retook his position beside Hajime and covered the both of them with the blanket.

“Exactly what I was going to say! Yahaba looks two steps away from a nervous breakdown every time the coach so much as mentions next year, and I’m pretty sure Kindaichi and Kunimi are trying to absorb your skill by osmosis. They practically live on top of you,” He complained.

“Says the guy practically in my lap.”

“Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I’d never try to absorb your skill!”

“Are you insulting me?”

“I would never.”

Hajime fell asleep somewhere in the middle of a random movie he picked after not being able to find the one he wanted. His unconscious state brought his mind to an endless hallway lined with doors, every single one bringing him to yet another hallway. He stubbornly continued forward after peering through countless doors, certain that the hallway would have to come to an end eventually. Endless hallways didn’t exist, after all.

Just like time loops.

He woke up more disoriented than ever.

With one eye cracked open he could see that the TV was still on, but the sun was streaming brightly even from behind the closed blinds, casting a heavy glare across the screen. That alone was enough to determine he’d slept for a couple hours. He yawned, unsurprised yet annoyed to find Oikawa still awake sitting against the wall, legs draped over Hajime’s as he typed away on his laptop.

“Makki and Mattsun have been texting me all morning. They’ve started coming up with some really lewd reasons why neither of us are at school today,” Oikawa said. The lighting painted heavy, intricate shadows over his face, unexpectedly reminding Hajime of the chiaroscuro paintings they’d seen at an art museum once.

“Makki and Mattsun should mind their own damned business and pay attention in class so they don’t fail and have to retake the year,” Hajime said as he sat up, squinting through the sleep in his eyes. “You should be in class too.” He’d spent enough time tutoring all three of their dumb asses in subjects they’d spent playing games on their phones in, despite the fact they were all more than intelligent enough to get above average marks on their own. He was almost sure they only did it to watch him straight up lose it when he tutored them as a group. They had a tendency to always need help in the same subject.

“Hmph. If I’m not going to practice, I’m definitely not going to class. Besides, I told my mom you were over here sick and she took one look at me and practically ordered me to stay home too.” There was some genuine offense written across his face as he spoke, as if it were some terrible crime for him to look less than flawless after being awake for a 24 hour time frame. Hajime fell back down and turned to stare at what he could of the movie. The glare was slowly moving down and off the screen. “Feeling any better now?”

“I feel even worse,” he admitted, turning his face into the pillow. “Dreamed I was stuck in an endless hallway of forever. It’s fitting, at least.”

“What’s fitting?” Oikawa asked, pushing the glasses he must have swapped his contacts out for up his nose. Hajime always thought glasses suited him well, but hell if he would ever say it aloud.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Iwa-chaaan,” Oikawa whined, reaching over with his leg and shoving his foot in Hajime’s face.

“You’re so gross, get away from me.” He pulled the blanket over his head to block the attack.

“But you’re not telling me something! You know I hate secrets.”

“Funny, coming from the guy who tries and fails to keep things bottled up all the time,” he said from under the blanket as Oikawa’s foot mashed against his head.

“I only fail because you’re so nosy.”

“I’m not nosy.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Oikawa said, withdrawing his foot. “You know, you’re a lot less violent when you’re sick. I usually have half a dozen bruises by now. Maybe you should stay sick.”

Hajime didn’t rise to the bait as he went quiet, suddenly grimly aware that all of the banter would fade into nonexistence soon enough. It didn’t seem fair – having these moments Oikawa later wouldn’t acknowledge happening. Even if the moments were supremely stupid.

“Hey, what would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?” he asked after a minute. He could hear Oikawa’s typing slow down as he thought about it. “Something other than playing volleyball, kicking Ushiwaka, watching movies, and eating milk bread,” he belatedly tacked on.

“Ruin all my imaginary fun, why don’t you?” Oikawa grumbled. “Well I wouldn’t do what the guy on TV is doing. He’s stupid,” Hajime had no idea what the guy on TV was doing. “I’d kick Tobio-chan too,” he mumbled bitterly.

Hajime kicked Oikawa. “Stop bothering the poor kid, you already dropped a shelf of tennis balls on him.”

Oikawa stopped typing. “How did you know about that? Are you –”

“I’m not stalking you, Assikawa. I told you earlier, I’m stuck in a time loop,” Hajime was still under the blanket, but he could hear Oikawa trying not to laugh. “You believed me yesterday.” That was not a sulk, he promised himself.

“I see! So we’re researching how to get you out of the time loop, right?” Oikawa presumed, humoring him.

“I don’t think the movies are really helping. The horror ones are the best, but I don’t think I’m going to be going insane and on a murdering spree anytime soon,” he paused, “though I guess the going insane part is still debatable.”

“I’d learn to draw,” Oikawa said after a moment.

“You’re terrible at art.”

“I know, Iwa-chan. That’s why I’d learn! I mean volleyball is definitely priority, but there’s nothing wrong with developing other fun skills if I’m going to have all the time in the world. And being stuck in a time loop would give me all the time in the world.”

“You’d be fine with that? What if the next day never came? You’d be getting better at stuff for nothing.”

“There’s always a way out of time loops!”

“Learning a valuable life lesson?” Hajime hazarded blandly.

Oikawa nodded, lifting his glasses to rub his eyes which were more than a little bloodshot. “Unless aliens are involved. Besides, if I got stuck in a time loop, at least you’d be there everyday! I’d get the both of us into so much trouble, Iwa-chan.”

“I hate you.”

“I know your hatred means love. You’re making me blush.”

“I wouldn’t remember, you know. All the shit you would get us into – the next day would be like it never happened. You’d remember, but the entire world around you would be a constant reminder that it wasn’t real. What’s the point of making memories if no one shares them with you?” Hajime asked, voicing his thoughts. Oikawa stayed quiet for a suspiciously long moment. Hajime turned to look at him, just to find himself being scrutinized.

Oikawa reached out and tapped him on the forehead. “Stop making sense, you killjoy. That’s how you’ll really lose your mind. Though I’m surprised you haven’t lost it already, considering how small it is,” Hajime playfully kicked him multiple times in the ribs until he crumbled over in laughter, begging for mercy. “Besides,” he wheezed as he covered his ribs protectively, “time travel is supposed to be fun.”

Hajime turned to scowl at the TV, now glare free. “Tell that to the guy on the screen.” The man was standing on the edge of a tall building, a look of complete apathy on his face.

Hajime never realized he was falling asleep again until he was already in the midst of waking to the sound of muted voices. He covered his head with more pillows and groaned, wishing he was still asleep but also soaking in the relief he wasn’t waking up three seconds before his cursed alarm went off. Hardly a minute later, the door clicked shut and a body threw itself on his back.

“I know you’re awake, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, wiggling around to make himself more comfortable.

“Who the fuck wouldn’t be after that, you asshole!” he shouted, turning around on his back and throwing the pillows at Oikawa’s face who blocked them with a cheerful laugh. Oikawa backed up to the wall, his legs still lying over Hajime’s stomach as he used the pillows to create a useless barricade between them. His hair fluffed around his face and his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, making him look like he was ten years old instead of the adult Hajime was certain he’d never really grow into.

“Makki and Mattsun stopped by with our homework. They wanted to say hi, but I told them you were sleeping. They kept insinuating things. It was very uncalled for.”

“You probably encouraged them,” Hajime said. It was a long running joke that the two of them were a little too close. Hajime honestly didn’t give a fuck about the rumor mill or about what people thought of them, but Oikawa always added fuel to the fire – sometimes going out of his way to start the fires himself. It was probably only due to Oikawa’s omnipresent line of girlfriends that nobody ever took any of it seriously. It didn’t mean the waggling eyebrows, the less than subtle winks, or the lewd gestures Matsukawa and Hanamaki showered them in were appreciated, however.

Romantic relationships were not something Hajime was well versed in. Or versed in at all. His only experience in the subject were with the few confessions he was given over the years, in which he apologetically rejected the girls, citing his studies and volleyball. He’d had the misfortune of being guilt tripped into hearing the lamentations of several of Oikawa’s girlfriends about how little time Oikawa gave them – Hajime didn’t want to go into a relationship so halfheartedly and remained quietly disappointed in Oikawa for doing so.

Hajime didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s grief or feelings of neglect.

But at the same time –

“Well, you have been sleeping in my bed all day, half-naked. Those boxers don’t cover much,” Oikawa said, deliberately eying him as though his body was visible to the world and not completely covered by the blanket he’d put there himself. Hajime rolled his eyes before closing them. Oikawa looked through a folder on his lap. “Oh, good. Just some reading to do for English and History. I was scared that I’d end up with a million hours of Chemistry homework. I stopped paying attention in that class last year.”

“As much as I’d like to yell at you for being an idiot, it’s probably a good thing you’re shit at chem. The world doesn’t need you knowing how to make a bomb.”

“That’s what the internet is for,” Oikawa benevolently informed as he held out another folder. Hajime suddenly felt fear for Shiratorizawa. “Do you want to see what you have?”

“Reading for English I’ve been done with for a while, chapters 15.2-15.4 for Calculus, the intro chapter to Particle Physics, and a new essay in Modern Lit due on Saturday.” Hajime recited. It was actually a considerably lighter load than he usually had to deal with, considering he was in advanced classes. Small mercies.

Oikawa frowned, confused, as he opened the packet and reviewed the listed assignments. He stared a moment longer until he moved his stare to Hajime, his eyes narrowing.

“Iwa-chan, did you already message someone for your homework?”

“Do you see my phone anywhere?”

“How did you know I knocked a shelf of tennis balls on Tobio-chan yesterday?”

“I’ve already said it twice.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to say it one more time,” Oikawa said, keeping his tone as even as possible.

“I’m stuck in a time loop,” he repeated. “I wake up three seconds before my alarm goes off at five am and it resets my day at midnight.” Hajime thought it was midnight anyway. He wasn’t exactly counting the seconds. “You insult my face as soon as I walk out my front door, take our entire lunch period to tell your adventure after school yesterday with the Ushijima spy and the Karasuno freak duo, and you eat milk bread non stop. I don’t care if your mom bought an entire store’s worth of milk bread, Oikawa. It’s disgusting.”

“That’s –”

“Fantastic. I know,” Hajime interrupted with a flat tone. “I have the world in my hands, unlimited opportunities, no consequences, blah blah. I’ve heard it all before.”

Oikawa seemed disconcerted. He was ecstatic the other day. What changed?

“How long has it been?”

“Today makes it my fifth Tuesday.”

“Iwa-chan –”

“I know you’re excited and want to talk about it, but I just – not today – alright? I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Again. Hopefully it’ll actually be tomorrow this time.”

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed after a moment, much to his surprise. Even so, Hajime could hear the bridled curiosity in that one word. Whatever face or voice Hajime was making must have been desolate enough to keep him at bay. He was unsure Oikawa even believed him, this day or the previous – Oikawa had the tendency to view everything as a game and it was a well known fact that volleyball was the only one he took seriously. For everything else he had the unfortunate predisposition to choose the option that would expose the most entertaining path ahead of him.

And as Oikawa said the previous day: he had the options of believing Hajime to be going crazy or being stuck in a time loop. No one wanted to deal with their best friend having a breakdown, but being a time traveler was the stuff of dreams.

“But really, Iwa-chan. Here I was thinking you were sick all day, dragging yourself to me for comfort, when you were just being lazy. How rude of you.”

“I will punch you. I promise that won’t get old no matter how many times I relive this day.”

It was after more harmless squabbling (instigated by Oikawa, always instigated by Oikawa) and an early dinner that they finally settled down and watched movies. Hajime watched them anyways, finally finding the one his unwanted reset button cut off the previous night. Hajime could feel Oikawa staring at him over the hours, the glasses doing nothing to block the curiosity beaming out of his eyes like a goddamned laser.

“What?” Hajime finally snapped. Oikawa put his hands up defensively as he grinned.

“Watch the movie, Iwa-chan, don’t mind me.”

“You’re being annoying.”

“There’s nothing wrong with staring at your time traveling best friend who doesn’t want to talk about his time traveling adventures.”

Hajime leaned in to glower at Oikawa, “You’re creeping me out. I will punch you.”

“Tough words for the guy staring longingly into my eyes.”

Hajime was sure that if he was stuck in the time loop for a hundred thousand years, Oikawa would still annoy the shit out of him. He grabbed the blanket they were once again sharing and threw it over Oikawa’s head and proceeded to strangle the bastard. Oikawa had the gall to laugh through the few breaths he managed to take.

“You are so annoying it doesn’t even make any sense,” Hajime said after Oikawa managed to reach up and grab Hajime’s nose, prompting him to let go, Oikawa smugly stayed quiet after being released, but Hajime didn’t need words to read what was all over his face. He lowered his eyes before bringing them back to the TV screen.

He found himself drifting off again, the litany of tried storylines, stereotypical characters, and lack of excessive cheesiness over the next few movies numbing his brain. Tomorrow he’d figure out something else to do. As entertaining as watching all this crap was, it really wasn’t giving him any ideas. He supposed he should have known that from the start. He guess he sort of did know.

“It’s almost midnight,” Oikawa’s voice stammered through a yawn. Hajime jumped, thinking Oikawa had fallen asleep hours ago when he slumped over his laptop.

Hajime hummed an affirmative, suddenly wishing he was asleep to spare himself the disorientation he was soon to endure. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Oikawa dragged him up and shook him like a rag doll.

“You said the day starts over at midnight, right?”

“Yep,” he blandly replied.

“So anything I do right now, everything I’ve done today – I won’t remember it?”

“Yep,” Hajime confirmed, wondering why it was suddenly a big deal.

“And you’ve already told me about all of this before, right?”

“Yes, Shittykawa. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all, Iwa-chan! I just thought – you could tell me anything at all right now and I wouldn’t remember it! Do you have anything to tell me that you’ve been holding in all these years? Any deep dark secrets?”

Hajime knew it. Oikawa didn’t believe him at all – just going along with the situation because it was fun and he thought Hajime was having some fever dream. He couldn’t blame him – It took Hajime four whole days of living it before he genuinely accepted it.

“What would I even have to tell you?” he asked, not really sure what Oikawa was trying to get out of him. There really wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other. Nothing that mattered, anyway. “I can’t even keep your birthday presents a secret from you.”

“Oh, come on,” he persisted. “There has to be something.”

Hajime pursed his lips as he thought. Was Oikawa waiting for some sappy declaration of friendship? Unlikely, since they had the misfortune of falling into those types of conversations whenever Oikawa pushed himself too hard or they lost a volleyball match. Or with all the insecurities boiling away in Oikawa’s head, was he waiting for the opposite? Expecting Hajime to take the chance to list off all the reasons he was a shitty friend? Mute point for Oikawa, because Hajime made sure to tell him immediately whenever he pissed him off and why. They wouldn’t cover any new ground there.

The only contentious topic between the two of them at the moment was university, but there really wasn’t anything to say about it. No deep dark secrets there. Not really. Just awkwardness.

And he definitely wasn’t going to tell Oikawa he thought he looked good in glasses, time loop be damned.

“Oh, never mind,” Oikawa sulked after Hajime stared blankly at him for a prolonged period of time. He turned his sulk in the direction of the TV as he pulled his knees up to his chin. “But it resets at midnight, right?” he asked again. “Midnight exactly?”

“I don’t know, probably. I was talking to you when it happened – Wasn’t exactly staring at the clock.”

“But I don’t remember anything afterward,” Oikawa mumbled, basically repeating himself.

“That’s what I said.”

Oikawa muttered something to himself before falling into silence as he stared down at Hajime's stolen phone. Something akin to nervous tension seemed to sweep over him. Hajime looked over to find him glaring at the clock on his phone as it ticked over to 11:59 pm.

“One minute left,” Oikawa said.

Hajime frowned, unsettled by both Oikawa and the fact the day was likely going to reset very soon. They watched the seconds tick away.

“Hey, Hajime?” Oikawa hesitated. Hajime was too focused on the clock to think anything about the deliberate use of his name.

“Yeah?” He asked. Five seconds til midnight.

“I love you.”

Hajime barely had time to catch a glimpse of the nervous smile on Oikawa’s face before his eyes snapped open and he was met with the familiar view of his room, dimly lit by the fading starlight streaming in through his window.

“What the fuck.”

His alarm screamed in his ear.

Chapter Text

He sat up, his alarm a vague whisper beneath the roaring heartbeat taking residency between his ears. A wave of vertigo passed over him as he threw his legs over the side of his bed. He reached blindly for his phone, his face hidden in his hand as the disorientation – the nausea – passed. He mechanically disabled his alarm as he tried to avoid thinking all together.

It backfired as the three words played on repeat in his head, sounding like a fragment of what Oikawa wanted to say, but conveying his meaning regardless.

“Fuck,” Hajime said, his voice hoarse and barely audible even to himself. “That was a joke, right?” Oikawa was always saying shit to get a reaction out of him, that was all it was. He blinked away the glimpse of his friend he managed to catch before the reset. His face was too sincere. Oikawa could fake a lot of things, but not that.

He jumped as his second alarm went off in what seemed to be just seconds later. Trembling fingers struggled with the touchscreen as he hurried to shut it off. His phone tumbled out of his hands as soon as the awful noise ended and he didn’t bother reacting to the tell-tale sound of the screen cracking as it landed in exactly the wrong way.

He shook his head. It was a joke. A really tasteless joke, but tasteless and Oikawa basically went hand in hand so it shouldn’t really be a surprise.

It wasn’t a joke. He shook his head stubbornly to clear the thought out of his head. Why did Oikawa always have to pull shit out of nowhere and skip out with no explanation?

He picked up his phone, eying the cracks that now splintered across the screen like lightning. Next to the notification of thirteen unread messages, the small image of Oikawa was split in half. Hajime turned the screen off.

Thirty minutes later found him staring at the inside of his front door knowing Oikawa was on the other side, less than a meter away – waiting for him. He swallowed the lump in his throat, coughing violently when he somehow swallowed air the wrong way down. Seriously, just fuck his entire life.

After deciding there was no way Oikawa didn’t hear that, he gave up and opened the door.

“Good morning Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s much too normal face popped out at him before Hajime could even drag himself outside. “Wow, you're looking even more brutish than usual today! If only you’d take my advice and use that skin cream I gave you ages ago, you might be a quarter as handsome as me. Maybe. Probably not. Wishful thinking never hurt anyone, though.”

Hajime’s jaw clenched as he stared at him, trying to find anything different in his expression. Maybe in his voice.

It was the same as always.

Of course it was – he didn’t remember anything. Besides, it was just a joke. There was no way Oikawa was – Just absolutely no way – Really, Oikawa wasn’t even interested in men that way; Hajime would know. Wouldn’t he? That’s something he’s pretty sure he’d notice. Subtle isn’t a word that describes his friend.

It was just a joke, he repeated to himself as he stared, willing the contradictory voice in his head as far back as he could.

Oikawa fidgeted under the attention. “Um, Iwa-chan – I know that seeing the real thing after somehow managing to survive off of selfies all night may be daunting, but...”

Yeah, Hajime would definitely notice something like that. Especially if Oikawa had feelings for him of all people. Oikawa wasn’t afraid of taking risks if he wanted something more. He didn’t deny himself things. If he was… interested, he’d flirt and tease – be all up in Hajime’s space all the time –

“Earth to Iwa-chan!” Oikawa hollered from way too close, practically standing nose to nose with him, clearly irked at being ignored. He wrapped a hand around the back of Hajime’s neck as he narrowed his eyes and continued leaning in.

Every hair on Hajime’s body must have stood on end as he tensed. So what if Oikawa was always all up in his space? Always touching him. Oikawa’s very tactile. They both were – it was natural to just reach out for the other by this point, they were so used to being around each other. It didn’t mean anything. Hajime didn’t need to prove anything to himself, there wasn’t anything unusual about any of it.

Oikawa’s thumb brushed against the underside of Hajime’s jaw.

“Oh, wow. Look at the time,” Hajime spewed out, looking determinedly at his wrist, blatantly lacking a watch. Hajime didn’t even own a watch. “We’re going to be late for practice,” he announced before barreling down the street at top speed.

I love you. The words looped in his head.

Why? Hajime asked himself. Why would he say that to me?

He cursed Oikawa’s slightly longer legs (just slightly, dammit) as his friend caught up with him, forcing his competitiveness to kick in as they raced to school.

“Well,” Oikawa panted as they collapsed in front of the empty gym. “I guess we’re okay to skip the warm up laps today. Good job, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime didn’t respond as he groped around in his bag for his water bottle just to dump the whole thing over his head. He closed his eyes as he let the morning breeze cool him down, trying to push his thoughts away.

He immediately became well aware that trying not to think of something did not have the intended effect.

“Iwa-chaaan,” Oikawa whined from where he sat splayed out across from him, his jacket threatening to fall off.

“What,” Hajime grunted, finally working up the nerve to look at him. His skin was flushed from the run and a slight sheen of sweat was visible even in the poor lighting. Oikawa tilted his head back giving his eyes a hooded appearance as he gazed at Hajime, all in all looking more like he was posing for some debauched photo shoot than catching his breath after a run.

Hajime immediately diverted his eyes, wondering if Oikawa had any idea what he actually looked like half the time. Probably. He didn’t become a narcissist by being oblivious to himself. On the contrary, he was self-aware to a frustrating degree. And Hajime – he’d always been abnormally aware of Oikawa as well. His idiotic best friend who couldn’t take care of himself.

I love you.

How could he have never noticed something like that?

Oikawa never followed up, but Hajime listened to him breathe in and sigh, heard the rustle of his sports jacket as he stood up and unlocked the gym door. The metal groaned as he pulled it open.

“Hey, Iwa-chan? Want to get some spikes in before our entourage shows up demanding attention?”

Hajime snorted, running both of his hands anxiously through his hair before hoisting himself off the floor. He looked up to find Oikawa watching him cautiously – as though he was the one starting shit.

“Sounds good.”

The slightest flicker of relief crossed Oikawa’s face before he grinned and pulled him inside behind him. Hajime was hyper aware of the hand on his shoulder, the familiar touch now a brand against his skin as fingers tightened almost possessively.

How did he never notice?

He successfully focused on volleyball as soon as the first ball came his way, the transition becoming easier when Kindaichi and Kunimi immediately set their sights on him as they trickled into the gym with the rest of their club members. He watched as Oikawa pouted, but let himself along with Kyoutani be pulled away by Yahaba over to another net. Hajime was almost certain Yahaba was bossing the both of them around if the twitch Oikawa developed over the next few minutes was anything to go by.

Hajime liked Yahaba.

“So, um, Iwaizumi-san?” Kindaichi hesitantly asked towards the end of practice. “Are you okay? You’re not looking too good today.”

Hajime raised a brow before Hanamaki appeared out of absolutely fucking nowhere.

“Oh? Are we already making fun of Iwaizumi? Be careful, Kindaichi-kun. Talking about Iwaizumi’s appearance has a 100% chance of summoning Oikawa.”

“W-what?” Kindaichi stammered. “No! I wasn’t making fun of you Iwaizumi-san! I just meant – I’m not saying you look bad, its just you’ve had better days? That – that came out wrong. I think you’re very handsome!”

Hajime’s other brow joined the first high up on his forehead as Kindaichi progressively became more and more red after acknowledging his own words.

“Ooh?” Oikawa’s familiar drawl crept out from behind him. Hajime could feel the static build in the air between them as he waited for the unavoidable insult. “Iwa-chan has an admirer?”

“And there he is,” Hanamaki very unnecessarily announced.

Oikawa threw an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders as he stared Kindaichi down. The poor kid tried to sink into a puddle on the ground under the unwanted attention. “I guess he might have some sort of appeal if you manage to avoid looking at this part of him,” Oikawa said as he waved his other hand over Hajime’s face. Hajime grabbed the hand and crushed it in his own.

“Ow – that hurts! Iwa-chan, you brute!” Oikawa uselessly tried to escape his grasp by flailing his arms, only succeeding in whacking Hanamaki upside the face in the process. Kindaichi only continued his attempt to evaporate into nonexistence until Kunimi appeared and wordlessly pulled him away to help clear out the gym before class started. “Hey – you two! Don’t abandon your captain when he needs help!” he tried. Kindaichi stammered apologetically in his direction while avoiding all eye contact. Kunimi didn’t even spare them a glance.

Hajime sincerely wished he had Kunimi’s ability to not give a fuck about anything. It would make life with Oikawa so much simpler.

“That’s just how Iwaizumi holds hands, Oikawa,” Matsukawa appeared beside Hanamaki who was nursing his jaw with a spiteful look in Oikawa’s direction. “He’s trying to be romantic.”

“I’ll be the most romantic guy in the world if you keep talking shit about my face,” Hajime growled out.

“I never said a thing about your face. You’re so touchy,” Oikawa said as he finally managed to pull his hand away. “Besides, you should be flattered – Kindaichi-kun thinks you’re very handsome.”

“He was actually saying that Iwaizumi looked bad today before realizing how rude that was,” Hanamaki helpfully informed, earning a frown from Hajime.

“Hate to say it, but its true. You really aren’t looking your best,” Matsukawa cut in.

Hajime leveled a stare at Oikawa before heading for the showers. “At least I’m not wearing makeup.”

He suppressed a vengeful grin as he heard the two round up on a protesting Oikawa.

It was after his shower he found himself staring in the mirror. He honestly never gave much thought to his appearance. It was just his face – the one he was born with. Not much he could do about it. But it was the same face everyone else had to look at and associate with Iwaizumi Hajime.

Sharp. That’s the only word he could really give to describe his features. Sharp eyes and brows, a sharp jaw, hell – even his nose was a bit on the pointy side. He eyed his hair, standing on ends and adding even more to his prickly appearance.

If Oikawa was the standard for handsome – soft and well maintained – Iwaizumi was nowhere near the word.

“What’s this? Have you finally discovered the mirror?” Oikawa asked, fresh from his own shower. Hajime ignored the jibe, because in a vague sense it was kind of true.

“I’m really not that great looking, am I?” he asked, prodding his face with a finger. He wasn’t insecure about the fact, just stating an observation. Kindaichi was a little overzealous with his earlier compliment.

Oikawa obviously wasn’t expecting that as he dropped the hair dryer he was pulling from his bag and whipped his head over to Hajime with a horrified expression.

“Iwa-chan… You know I’m just joking about all of that, right? It’s just for fun! I mean, you really don’t know how to pose for a camera – but with my guidance we can fix that! Let me teach you the ways of the photogenic,” he said, failing horribly to be reassuring. Hajime could feel a vein throbbing in his head, but Oikawa wasn’t wrong about the camera thing. It seemed every time a lens was aimed at him, he blinked or suddenly had to sneeze. He’s only ever managed a good photo when he didn’t know one was being taken.

“I’m not saying I’m ugly, Trashykawa. Its just – compared to you I’m average.”

And of course Oikawa would focus on the compared to you part of that sentence.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asked, pointing at himself, eyes wide as though he didn’t hear his appearance complimented seventy-eight times a day by every girl in school. Hajime’s eye twitched, having no intention to elaborate. Oikawa squashed Hajime’s face in both of his hands. “Your face is my favorite face!” He nonsensically declared.

“What the hell does that even mean?” Hajime shouted back as he grabbed Oikawa’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

“Oh no, Hanamaki – cover your eyes. You’re too young to see this.”

“I’m older than you.”

Hajime only become more irate with the appearance of Matsukawa and Hanamaki. “Both of you cover your eyes so I can take all of you out with less resistance.”

“Sorry Iwaizumi. We’re not really into polyamory,” Hanamaki informed as Kindaichi and Kunimi walked into the locker room behind them. Hajime felt something snap. Probably just his remaining sanity. Maybe it was for the best.

“Makki, Mattsun! Iwa-chan thinks I’m attractive!” Oikawa happily announced, having escaped the arm twist. Kindaichi squeaked and walked faster towards the showers.

“I never said that!”

“It was heavily implied!”

“Why did I come to school today?” Hajime asked himself as he viciously pulled the rest of his uniform on before storming out of the locker room altogether. Fortunately for him, Oikawa refused to go anywhere with wet hair, so he’d be annoyance free for a few minutes at least.

I love you.

Well, never-fucking-mind. Oikawa could still irritate him across campus and an alternate Tuesday away.

He eyed the front gate to the school. It was still open, he could just go home – tell his mom he got sick at practice and hide away for the rest of the day while he tried to figure shit out. Figure what out exactly; he wasn’t sure.

Was Oikawa – Was Tooru really in love with him?

He sighed, hiking the shoulder strap of his bag further up as he turned away from the gate. Running away from an awkward situation would never fix it. And running away from Oikawa was something he’d never do. With the exception of that morning, anyways. Not that Oikawa let him get very far as it was.

Oikawa was in especially good spirits during lunch as he recounted his previous afternoon, going out of the way to emphasize the magnificence of his face the entire time. (“Shrimpy didn’t attempt a second attack on me because he was distracted by my overwhelming attractiveness!” Cue winking at Hajime here.)

Hajime sincerely regretted his decision to stay at school.

“Not attractive enough to keep a girlfriend,” Hanamaki offhandedly remarked after the twentieth time or so Oikawa went off about his good looks. Oikawa sputtered.

“Don’t worry, Oikawa,” Hajime said after he failed to make a come back. “I know one person who would never reject you no matter what.”

Oikawa perked right up as he looked at Hajime with goddamned stars in his eyes before smirking and purring out, “Who, Iwa-chan?”

“Ushiwaka,” Hajime deadpanned. Hanamaki choked as Matsukawa poorly stifled his laughter.

“Hmph." Oikawa slumped down on the desk with a glower as he traced something out with his hand. He startled slightly when he looked up to find Hajime still watching him, but only sunk further into his sulk as he stared back, wordlessly demanding an apology. Hajime never broke eye contact, wondering when Oikawa started thinking along a path Hajime couldn’t follow.

He was relieved when the bell rang.

“Let’s get ramen today,” Hajime intercepted Oikawa before he could head for the gym after school.

“Trying to make up for yesterday, Iwa-chan? You’ll have to do better than that. Your treat!”

Hajime rolled his eyes. Well, the money would be right back in his wallet the next morning, so it was no loss on his part. “Fine, its on me. Let’s go.”

“Huh? Right now? Aren’t you forgetting about something?” Oikawa asked as he gestured out the window towards the club room.

“They need to get used to us not being around eventually,” Hajime stole Oikawa’s words from previous days. “We can practice on our own later if you want. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to seriously work on my spikes.”

More like its been a while since he’s done anything at all, since he spent the past two days watching movies in Oikawa’s room.

“Free food and private practice with Iwa-chan, huh? Well, say no more – let’s get some ramen,” Oikawa agreed a little too easily. Hajime didn’t think much about it the previous times – but it was pretty obvious Oikawa was just aiming to spend more time with him.

There’s a timer ticking away over our heads.

Not anymore there wasn’t; not for Hajime. A firm hand on his shoulder pulled him back to reality.

“You look like you have something you want to say,” Oikawa casually brought up as they exited the grounds. “Ever since this morning.”

Hajime lowered his eyes. “You know me well,” He echoed the past Oikawas.

“Obviously! I know you better than you know yourself, Iwa-chan. It’s about time you’ve figured it out.”

Hajime looked at him, something like guilt churning in his gut. It was true – Oikawa probably did know him better than he knew himself. And somehow, Hajime hadn’t been returning the favor in equal measure.

I love you.

When did something like that happen?

Oikawa grinned at him, long lashes brushing against his cheek as he winked. “So what is it?”

“What’s what?”

“What have you been waiting to say? If its making you nervous it must be good.”

Hajime chewed the bottom of his lip. How was he supposed to ask his best friend if he was in love with him? Especially when Hajime didn’t have the response Oikawa would want to hear if he was. Hajime wasn’t used to that – not being able to meet Oikawa halfway. Everything felt – off center now. They weren’t on equal ground anymore.

“Iwa-chaaan,” Oikawa started whining when Hajime stayed quiet for too long. “Spit it out already! I’ve been patient all day!”

“You’ve been annoying all day,” Hajime corrected.

“You’re just embarrassed because you’ve finally admitted I’m attractive.”

“Are you still going on about that? Fine – Oikawa, you’re good looking. You figured that out in middle school. I don’t know why hearing it from me is such a big deal,” Hajime said to get Oikawa to shut up about it. He glanced over as they walked, expecting to find his friend wearing the smuggest face in the universe.

He just looked happy.

Hajime rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress the slight quirk of his lips. He supposed paying Oikawa a compliment every now and then wouldn’t hurt too much if it made him that happy. He’d just have to give him a few extra ego checks later. His grin fell when he remembered why Oikawa would want to hear Hajime thought he was attractive.

“So, Iwa-chan – what have you been hiding all day?” Oikawa badgered. Hajime winced when that smile flashed directly at him, making him feeling irrationally guilty and sort of pissed at Oikawa for making him go through this.

He still didn’t understand. He was confused: What was Oikawa expecting to get out of what he did? Confessing while knowing he wouldn’t remember it ever happening?

“Have you ever told anyone you loved them before?” tumbled out of his mouth before he could find a better way to go about it. Not that he should be worrying about that in the first place considering he was still stuck in a time loop and why was he bothering with being indirect?

Oikawa’s grin faltered as he stumbled over his own feet. While righting himself he cranked the brightness of his smile to be on par with the sun – and fuck, it was so fake; Hajime had to look away.

“Could this be – Iwa-chan are you in love with someone? And you’ve come to me, the master of dating – Oikawa Tooru – to ask for advice on how to make a move?” Oikawa blathered, gesturing excessively between the both of them.

“How did anything I say translate into that?” Hajime asked. “Besides, you’re the last person I’d ask for that kind of advice. You only know how to flirt. If I needed dating help I’d talk to Hanamaki.”

“Makki?” Oikawa asked, offense distorting his face. He crossed his arms and pinched his lips together. “Why in the world would you ask Makki for dating advice?”

“He’s had a couple long term girlfriends – unlike you.”

“I just haven’t dated the right person yet,” Oikawa grumbled defensively. Hajime rolled his eyes and decidedly chose not to go there. “So if you aren’t in love with someone – that means someone confessed to you?”

“Why don’t you answer my question instead of try to figure out why I asked it?”

“Because I need details, Iwa-chan. Details change everything.”

“Its a yes or no question, dumbass.”

“Yes,” Oikawa answered.

“Wait, seriously? Who?” Hajime asked, genuinely surprised. He didn’t think Oikawa ever got that attached to any of his girlfriends if how quickly he got over them was any indication.

“My parents, sister, and my adorable nephew when he was still adorable and not a little punk.”

Hajime snickered, “Takeru is a great kid.”

“You’re a terrible influence on him, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sulked.

Hajime knocked into him with his shoulder. “And don’t evade the question. You know what I meant.”

“Do I? Maybe you need to add some details!” Oikawa said, faux innocence stamped on his face. Hajime closed his eyes, took a deep breath, reopened his eyes, and reached out before the idiot skittered away making placating motions with his hands. “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. It’s only fair! Did you get a confession?”

Hajime’s hand twitched after being denied its chance for blood. “Fine. Yes,” he answered in a rush of breath. He stomped down the hysteria in the back of his mind screaming about the absurdity of his situation – having to tell Oikawa that Oikawa confessed to him. Everything about the situation was so wrong.

Oikawa whirled and grasped his shoulders as he tried to shake the answers out of him. “Who was it?”

“No. I answered your question. Your turn.”

Oikawa frowned petulantly and kept Hajime in his grip as though he would escape at the slightest chance. “Fine,” he mimicked Hajime’s tone. “No, I haven’t said it to anyone romantically. Believe it or not, Iwa-chan, I do take that sort of thing seriously.” If Hajime didn’t feel like shit before, he sure did now. “Now cough it up, who confessed to you?”

Hajime hoped the flush to his skin wasn’t as obvious as it felt as he looked somewhere around Oikawa’s ear. “It doesn’t matter. They didn’t even give me the time to respond.”

Oikawa wasn’t deterred. His eyes possessed a steely resolve as he grinned deviously. “It was Kindaichi-kun, wasn’t it?”

“Kindaichi?”

“It’d explain why you’re so embarrassed! Being confessed to by a guy for the first time is a little uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

Hajime decided to skip the whole Kindaichi part of the conversation to better understand the implication of that sentence. “Wait, does that mean you’ve been confessed to by other guys?”

Oikawa laughed as he switched his hold on Hajime and threw an arm around his neck, hastily pulling him down the street to the old ramen shop they occasionally went to after practice. It was only after they sat down with their orders and Hajime’s increasingly impatient looks that Oikawa answered with a roll of his eyes.

“Of course I’ve been confessed to by other guys.”

“’Of course’? Are you really that conceited?”

“I’m not conceited! Its just a fact, Iwa-chan. No need to be rude. Its not as though I dated any of them!”

“You didn’t?”

Oikawa blinked back his surprise. “I’d have told you if I did.”

Hajime redirected his attention to his food. He wasn’t trying to interrogate Oikawa, but it felt like he hadn’t been telling Hajime a lot of things recently, so he couldn’t help the stream of questions.

“But,” Oikawa continued, “one of them did kiss me.”

Hajime promptly spat out all of the food in his mouth and coughed out the bits that managed to get stuck in his throat.

“He -” Hajime croaked out a word before coughing a few more times. “He didn’t force it on you, did he? Because if he did –”

Oikawa waved him off. “Relax, Iwa-chan. It was just a simple little kiss. It was almost cute. Oh, not that you’d know since you’ve never kissed anyone.” He batted his eyes. Hajime stomped his foot under the table, initiating an over aggressive game of footsie until they noticed a disgruntled employee giving them the stink eye (whom Oikawa scared away with a charming smile). “You should fix that whole ‘never been kissed’ thing.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Oikawa grinned behind his bowl.

“I’m sure Kindaichi-kun wouldn’t mind helping you out.”

“I will shove your face right into that bowl,” Hajime threatened. “And why are you so focused on Kindaichi?”

Oikawa slumped back, waving his chopsticks in the air with practiced nonchalance. “Because he’s had a big fat crush on you since middle school?”

“What? No he hasn’t.”

“Um. Yes, Iwa-chan. He really has. Why else do you think a middle blocker always insists on practicing with you, our ace, instead of Mattsun?”

Hajime searched Oikawa’s face for hints of a lie, but didn’t find any. “Huh.” Surprise registered briefly on his face before he resumed eating.

“Huh? Is that all you have to say about poor Kindaichi-kun’s feelings?” Oikawa threw a noodle at Hajime. He wondered if that was supposed to be some sort of symbolic gesture. “He pours his heart and soul out to you in a confession and you reply with ‘huh’?”

Actually, he said ‘What the fuck’ and it wasn’t Kindaichi, but he didn’t feel like explaining that to Oikawa right now. Or ever. Definitely not ever.

“What am I supposed to say? He didn’t even give me the chance to say anything.”

“Okay, so pretend he didn’t run away and you were facing him right now – what would you do?”

Hajime was about 99% certain this entire conversation was some sort of trap. Oikawa was being way too casual about all of this.

Oikawa didn’t do casual.

Apparently he took a millisecond too long to think, because Oikawa almost immediately sighed dramatically and clicked his tongue at Hajime. “And this is why we’re best friends. You’d never figure out your life without me.”

“Oh. I always thought it was because I was cursed at birth.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime gazed into the broth left in his bowl with the hopes that it carried all the answers to his life within its murky depths. It didn’t. How the fuck was this guy in love with him? He still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“I’d apologize, turn him down, and hope he didn’t take it too badly.” Oikawa would take it badly. Oikawa would take it very fucking badly.

“No finesse – its a wonder you’ve ever gotten any confessions at all. Just follow my advice – you’ve never seen anyone running away brokenhearted from me, have you?”

“Only broken spirited.”

Oikawa huffed at that, pointedly looking away as he picked at his food. “Well, if that’s how you’re going to be – maybe I won’t help you after all!” That was just fine with Hajime. Oikawa offering him advice on how to turn Oikawa down gently was a bit much. “Maybe you should date him just so he learns first hand how rude you are. Then when you inevitably get dumped, I’ll be here to comfort you and say I told you so.”

“Right. Great talk, loved it – except for when I hated it,” Hajime said before downing what was left in his bowl and standing up.

Oikawa ditched his half eaten free meal to follow him. “Aww, but Iwa-chan – think about it! You’re going to go off to university with zero dating experience? Not even with one kiss under your belt? I'm embarrassed for you,” Hajime had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. “Wait – Iwa-chan! I have an idea.”

Hajime walked faster. “No.”

“Kiss me!” Oikawa may have well shouted if all the looks they got as they exited the building were any indication. Hajime knew the bastard was working up to something. Naively, he never thought he would be so forward.

“No.”

“Why not?” he asked, linking his arm through Hajime’s as they walked. “It’ll get that nasty first kiss business out of the way, you’ll get some experience –”

“Oikawa, I’m not kissing you.”

“Well, obviously I’d be the one doing the kissing. I’d hardly let a beginner take the lead –” And with the best timing possible – Hajime’s phone rang.

From inside Oikawa’s pocket.

Oikawa fished out the phone. “Makki’s calling!”

“Why the hell do you have my phone?!”

Oikawa shoved his hand in Hajime’s face as he answered the call. “Hellooo!” He sang into the phone. “You’re interrupting our date, this better be good,” Hajime tried escaping the hand clinging to his face to no avail. “Yeah, we ditched and got ramen. It was Iwa-chan’s idea! I would never abandon my poor teammates willingly, but Iwa-chan left me no choice,” Oikawa struggled as Hajime yanked hard on his sleeve, pulling him closer and freeing himself. “Sorry, Makki – Iwa-chan’s getting frisky. Gotta go!” He ignored the promise of death on Hajime’s face as he ended the call and continued looking at the phone. “What happened to your screen? Wait, thirteen unread messages? I put love and care into those photos and you didn’t even open them?”

“Believe it or not, I already know what you look like. I don’t need thirteen reminders in the morning.”

“Hmm, maybe. You do spend most of the day with me and then all night dreaming about me, so I suppose it is a bit redundant.”

Every bit of pettiness within Hajime boiled over in his brain and came up with a plan. A plan of vengeance for the previous night and the current day. A plan executed purely out of spite – a plan that only Hajime would remember and would never have to suffer the consequences.

“I’ll let you kiss me,” he said. Oikawa’s face went blank as he gaped. “I’ll let you kiss me as much as you want – On one condition.” He eyed the bags under Oikawa’s bloodshot and bruised eyes, the concealer likely brushed off throughout the day from constant rubbing. “You have to stay awake until midnight.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he confirmed. He knew Oikawa could stay up that late even after pulling an all nighter, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. And Hajime would get to watch as he became more and more smug until it was almost time – and bam, Tuesday morning reset.

“Deal,” he agreed, enthusiastically shaking Hajime’s hand as though it were a binding contract. “As much as I want, huh? You’re underestimating me – but its too late to change the conditions! Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I’ll make sure you get the best first kiss in history.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s set up a net by my house. I want to work on my spikes today – I’m getting rusty.”

After the third searching gaze aimed his way, the seventh tremulous smile, and the tenth call for Oikawa’s attention when Hajime was trying to practice, he suddenly recognized the feeling that started crawling up his gut as soon as he set the terms for their bet. Guilt.

He studied the dazed look on his friend’s face, the same daydreaming expression he’d seen on many girls’ faces after Oikawa was done flirting with them.

“I’m going to watch a movie,” Hajime suddenly announced, dropping the volleyball he’d been attempting to hand to Oikawa. He left the wooded area behind his house, ignoring the confusion on his friend’s face and berating himself for the fact that his stupid ‘plan’ was essentially just toying with Oikawa’s feelings.

This Tuesday was not his best Tuesday.

He tried putting on a boring movie they’ve already seen with the futile hope that Oikawa would fall asleep and he wouldn’t have to feel so bad about cheating his friend out of the stupid deal when the reset happened. He should have known better when Oikawa came back from the kitchen half-way through the movie with two energy drinks.

“Where did you even get those?”

“Your mom has a secret stash.”

“What?”

“Shh, Iwa-chan. Whatshisface is about to confess to the leggy girl.”

He tried using homework to make Oikawa fall asleep, but the half-interest he usually showed in school work must have been on steroids; he was actually taking notes for his English class. Oikawa and Hajime were both nearly fluent in English from classes and watching foreign movies on TV most of their lives – Oikawa never took notes anymore.

It was an hour until midnight when Oikawa relaxed and allowed the smugness to kick in, sending victorious looks in Hajime’s direction while ‘surreptitiously’ scooting closer until they were pressed together. Hajime shot him a wary glance before returning his attention back to the PS Vita in his hands. Unfortunately, ignoring Oikawa didn’t make him fall asleep either as the past several hours demonstrated.

It was ten ‘til midnight when Oikawa tossed aside his phone and happily plucked the Vita from Hajime’s grip. He stayed quiet, but Hajime watched the tense line as it set in his jaw and the anticipation that grew with each movement.

“Its not midnight yet,” Hajime reminded as he stared forlornly at his only shield against Oikawa being thrown away.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime could hope.

It was five ‘til midnight when Hajime admitted to himself that it was more than just guilt clawing at his gut and fuck – he was actually nervous for something that wasn’t going to happen because he was a human time machine with a broken cog.

Three minutes to midnight and Oikawa fucking crawled into his lap with the biggest shit eating grin smeared over his face, effectively locking Hajime down in the case he decided to flee.

“I think you should just admit defeat so we can get a head start on this.”

“I can always knock you out.”

“That’s cheating,” Oikawa mumbled halfheartedly as his eyes locked onto Hajime’s mouth. A hand reached out, gently cradling the back of Hajime’s neck.

Hajime swallowed down a retort as Oikawa tilted his head and leaned in.

“You’re so fucking greedy,” Hajime croaked just before he made contact. Oikawa pulled back slightly and Hajime watched as the red eyes that should have been desperate to slip shut for a good solid eight hours widened and honed in on him. “You always have to ruin good things because you’re always so damned sure there’s something better waiting for you.”

I love you, the previous day’s Oikawa repeated. Hajime didn’t understand any of it, but the truth of it was clear to him as he scanned Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa took a sharp breath, all pretenses dropped as several emotions battled for dominance on his face. “I know. I know. But I can only settle for the best, Iwa-chan,” He murmured before closing the distance between them.

I’m not the best, Hajime thought in response as soft lips crashed against his. This will only hold you back, streamed through his head as Oikawa ran his hands through his hair. Oikawa moved his lips over Hajime’s, briefly guiding him through the motions before pulling away. Something that wasn’t quite satisfaction fixed over his face as he watched Hajime with dark eyes, their foreheads still pressed together.

Hajime wondered if he looked at wrecked as he felt. The confident hand running across his back in a comforting manner suggested that yes, he did.

“Hajime,” Oikawa whispered against his lips. “Hajime, I –”

Hajime opened his eyes to the dimly lit view of his room. He grabbed his phone just as the alarm went off and trudged over to the window where he threw it out into the middle of the street.

He went to sleep.

A hand on his forehead and a slight shake to his shoulder woke him up. He rolled away with a groan, curling his knees up to his chest.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s voice called quietly. Hajime opened his eyes and stared at his wall, not prepared to face him just yet. “Iwa-chan, I found your phone outside. You must have, uh, dropped it last night? The screen’s cracked pretty bad.”

Hajime just wanted to sleep. He didn’t want to think. Being stuck in the same day left him with little else to do so far. His newfound revelations regarding Oikawa didn’t allow him to do anything else.

Oikawa was in love with him and Hajime wasn’t sure if he had it in him to reject him.

Wasn’t sure if he wanted to reject him. And hell if he had any idea what that meant. He brushed his fingers against his lips, recalling the kiss that happened both less than an hour ago and not at all. It didn’t feel wrong. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to be. Oikawa was supposed to go to university and break hearts across the board while Hajime would work hard for his degree and probably pathetically avoid relationships like the plague. He liked that plan. It was safe. Taking risks was Oikawa’s field, not Hajime’s. And fuck if taking a risk is what Oikawa was trying to do right now.

He planned this, Hajime suddenly realized. As soon as he believed Hajime about the time loop, he fucking planned it all, knowing Hajime would have to figure this shit out all on his own because Oikawa kept fucking forgetting.

Because he wanted to take this risk, but he was afraid of being rejected. Funny how Hajime was the one holding all the cards, yet Oikawa still managed to be the one dealing them.

“Iwa-chaaan.” The familiar whine reached his ears. “It’s almost time for practice and you’re still trying to sleep.”

Hajime tried to push down the resentment he knew would only be temporary. “I’m sick. Go without me.”

He heard a derisive sniff. “Sounds like you’re just being lazy. C’mooon.” He shook Hajime a few times before grabbing his arm and pulling.

Hajime whipped his arm out of his grasp and snapped at him. “I said I’m not going today.”

Oikawa winced, but didn’t back off. Instead, he furrowed his brow in concern when he got a good look at Hajime’s face. “Iwa-chan, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“You happened,” Hajime snarled before shutting his mouth with a click and withdrawing back into himself. “Sorry, just – not today. I need to be alone today.”

Of course that wouldn’t deter Oikawa from trying to help as he straight up ignored Hajime and sat down next to him on the bed. “Did I do something?” he asked after an uncomfortable stretch of silence.

Yes, Hajime didn’t say. It wasn’t fair to him, not really. If time was linear – if Hajime wasn’t living in some faulty reality – they’d figure this out. They might fuck up a bit, but they’d figure it out. That’s what they’ve always done. But Hajime was stuck in a fucking time loop, he didn’t have time to –

He stomped that thought right out of his head. Who was he kidding, he had all the goddamned time in the world and then some. He just didn’t know what he was doing; he spent his whole life solving Oikawa’s endless problems that he didn’t know how to take care of his own anymore.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa besought.

Hajime groaned and covered his face with an arm. “Tooru. I’m going through a bit of a crisis right now. I just want some time alone to sort it out. I’m not pissed at you.”

“You sounded like you were.”

“I just – wish you’d have told me like a normal human being, but you always have to make everything so difficult.”

A harsh beat of silence. “Oh,” Oikawa said, his voice barely the ghost of a whisper.

Yeah. Oh, Hajime thought bitterly. “Just one day, Tooru. Tomorrow – tomorrow, I’ll have an answer for you.”

If tomorrow existed, maybe.

Hajime slept. He woke once when his mom checked in on him, easily believing he was ill, and once more when his phone went off, the broken screen still managing to display Hanamaki’s name and picture. He ignored the three calls in a row, the subsequent voicemail, and the text messages from Matsukawa.

No contact from Oikawa.

He didn’t have an answer for Oikawa his tomorrow. Or his next tomorrow, but that was fine. He gave himself a vacation, ditching his phone and his friends for a while to take some time purely for himself, get his head on straight. It was fucking fantastic not having to deal with the old stress of school or the new stress of Oikawa’s feelings. He spent a few days hiking through his favorite mountain trails, another day playing a video game he bought months ago and never got around to beating, he took a bus to the beach, spent a day spending all of his money and then some on shit he didn’t need or particularly want, took a trip to Tokyo and got indescribably lost while wondering how Oikawa was going to survive living there by himself, played more video games, taught himself how to juggle, watched every movie at the cinema, practiced his spikes alone, missed his friends, tried yoga, missed Oikawa, jogged through the parks, really fucking missed Oikawa.

He wanted it to be Wednesday, but Wednesday never came.

Chapter Text

Before, he’d never properly appreciated the quiet sort of calm that waking up through natural methods provided; The dull fuzz occupying the brain that blotted out the complications of life; The soft comfort of a light blanket spread loosely over sleep heavy limbs, existing as the last line of defense against wakefulness.

Hajime sighed as he tightened his grip around his pillow, turning his head into it to block the light that managed to flood its way in through closed eyelids. He wasn’t willing to succumb to the day just yet.

It was quiet enough that he could hear his own heartbeat drum steadily, drowning out any whisper of a thought that trickled across his mind.

He took a deep breath, the hand running though his hair only enticing him further back into sleep.

His breath stuttered and came to a halt. Hand in his hair?

He clenched his fists, coming to the conclusion that neither of them were anywhere near his hair. Blearily cracking open an eye, he raised his head just enough to see around him.

His pillow was not a pillow.

“Oikawa?” He croaked as his heart decided to barrel roll right the hell out of his chest. And there he was – the very Oikawa Tooru he’d gone out of his way to avoid in a poor effort to collect his thoughts for weeks – he was right here, in Hajime’s bed.

Snug between Hajime’s arms.

Oikawa grinned down at him from where he was propped up by all of Hajime’s traitorous pillows, the hand not busy destroying his grip on reality with every brush through his hair predictably occupied with his phone.

Hajime’s phone, of course.

“Morning, Iwa-chan!” He chirped as he ruffled Hajime’s hair with a blinding smile. “How’d you sleep?” Hajime’s brain was still in the process of attempting to process whatever was supposed to be processed. “I can see that you’re confused. Well, you see – after I waited outside for you forever, I knew something was up – so I came inside to find you still sleeping. So, naturally, I tried to wake you up, but your cuddling instinct was too strong and you latched onto me, dragged me into bed with you, and refused to wake up,” Hajime would have loved to call bullshit, but it was an unfortunate truth that he sometimes had the tendency to cling to anything that moved near him in his sleep. Volleyball training camp brought some very awkward mornings. “I’d ask how I’d rate as a pillow, but I already know I’m a 10 out of 10, would sleep with again,” A lascivious smile graced his face as he winked down at him.

Hajime’s brain crashed as he groaned and buried his face back into Oikawa’s side. It was too late to be embarrassed and it wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before. Several times before. It wasn’t like any of this will have happened after the next reset.

Nothing Hajime did mattered anymore.

The third time he woke up completely relieved from thousands of dollars worth of credit card debt was proof enough.

Oikawa resumed petting his hair as Hajime reconciled that Oikawa was really there in his room after what must have been the longest time he’d ever gone without him. He listened to the heartbeat he could now distinguish as Oikawa’s drum away.

It was faster than before.

Hajime wondered if he made Oikawa nervous. ‘Perfect’ Oikawa Tooru – with all his charm and all his allure – heart set aflutter by none other than Hajime himself. Not the adoring girls that dolled themselves up to perfection specifically for Oikawa – but Hajime. The very same Hajime he’d seen drenched in mud when he fell into a creek trying to catch frogs, the same Hajime who taught him how to tie his fucking shoelaces when they were 5.

It was fucking weird. It was flattering. It was heady.

Hajime always knew Oikawa listened to him more than anyone else, but he never would have imagined he had any genuine sort of control over him. But here he was, able to control the very rhythm of his heart – the quickness of his breath with a simple touch, without Oikawa even being consciously aware of his reaction.

He ran a hand alongside Oikawa’s rib cage, listening for the predicted shortness of breath and the flurry of beats as Oikawa’s heart overcompensated in his chest. Was he insecure? Was he expectant?

Hajime didn’t know what he was doing, hadn’t known what he was doing from the start – but thinking about what to do didn’t work and not thinking about what to do was excruciating. And if Oikawa could get away with being a little shit all the time, then why couldn’t Hajime?

Screw it. The day would be over and done with and gone forever at the stroke of midnight. He needed to figure this out.

He was beyond tired.

Hajime propped himself up on his elbows, the bones in his back and neck cracking grotesquely as he stretched his body, shrouding the nervous energy running through him. Oikawa winced at the sound, his face scrunching up into dozens of little lines as he tried unsuccessfully not to stare at the newly revealed skin as the thin sheets slipped down Hajime’s body.

“Makki and Mattsun have been texting me all morning. Or, well, you technically,” Oikawa informed, waving Hajime’s phone at him. Hajime didn’t care. “They’ve started coming up with some really lewd reasons why neither of us are at school today. I told them we eloped last night and snapped a picture as proof.” He fluttered his eyelashes, and Hajime wanted to reach out, wanted to feel them against his skin.

“Maybe,” Hajime’s voice came out low and hoarse, a sure sign he’d just woken up and probably wasn’t rational enough to be making life destroying decisions. Oikawa’s face was close, but he could distinctly remember a time when it was closer. He wondered if Oikawa’s lips were as soft as he remembered, or if he’d made that detail up as he spent weeks fervently denying how he might have actually liked it. He wondered if he would regret what he was about to do, but he – just – didn’t – care – anymore. “Maybe we should gather some more proof.” He ignored the question on Oikawa’s lips as he lurched forward and covered them with his own, not quite meeting his mark, but close enough to easily fix his mistake.

Oikawa was shock still beneath him as Hajime attempted to move his lips the same way he remembered Oikawa doing. The exact same way he tried not to think about for the past however many Tuesdays. He heard his phone clatter to the floor and only moments later felt a hand flitting across his back as Oikawa tentatively kissed back, allowing Hajime to continue his clumsy lead.

He tried not to think too much.

He tried not to think at all.

It wasn’t too hard with his sleep addled brain.

He needed to understand what it was between them, if he could give that part of himself to Oikawa.

For Oikawa, he’d try.

Oikawa deliberately and delicately brushed his hands across Hajime’s bare skin as if he were some priceless artifact doomed to shatter at the first errant touch. His lips were as soft as he remembered and he tasted like milk bread. Sweet was not a word Hajime would use to describe Oikawa on a normal day, but nothing about his days lately have been normal.

A hand once again found its way to his hair as Oikawa ambitiously pressed himself somehow closer, apparently having decided Hajime’s time to lead was done and over with, the impatient bastard.

Oikawa kissed deeply and as if he had something to prove, and Hajime couldn’t keep up as Oikawa simultaneously reeled him in and pushed himself forward, any hesitation he once had abandoned as he took advantage of the situation. He didn’t know it was possible to be so close to someone – every point of contact lit the nerves under his skin – and fuck, he was burning alive – and he didn’t know if it was normal or if it was repressed hormones flaring to life or if it was just Oikawa.

Oikawa ran his teeth across Hajime’s bottom lip, his tongue following up with an insincere apology as his hand tightened in his hair.

The new sensations kick started the part of Hajime’s brain that controlled how far he was willing to let this go, which had thus far been losing the battle against hormonal curiosity. He couldn’t lie to himself it didn’t feel good. He felt fucking fantastic. Oikawa clearly knew what he was doing and Hajime was putty in his hands, ready and willing to be molded however Oikawa saw fit, because he fucking trusted him.

Because with Oikawa, there was nothing to be afraid of.

He pushed himself away and opened his eyes for the first time since he very skillfully mashed his face against Oikawa’s. His breaths were short and erratic and if the way Oikawa was looking at him was any indication, Hajime must have become the embodiment of sin itself.

He looked fucking intoxicated and kept a zealous watch on Hajime as if he were his last lifeline in an all consuming storm.

Hajime should have known Oikawa would never do something like fall in love at anything less than full throttle.

He pulled back further, awkwardness casting a heavy cloud over him as he shuffled his eyes away and figured it be a good time to finally try and think of something to say. He desperately tried to ignore the fingers creeping higher and higher up the back of his thigh.

Oikawa, however, was not in the mood for words as he threw a leg over Hajime’s, easily flipping their positions and assaulting Hajime with his mouth. Oikawa’s body pressed down against his as he slotted a leg between Hajime’s, and fuck there was no longer anything chaste about any of this as a hand traveled further down Hajime’s navel than he knew he was comfortable with, than he knew was appropriate for a first fucking kiss, Oikawa – What the fuck.

He broke his lips away from Oikawa’s and shoved him just enough to send a message.

“Oikawa.” The tone of his voice left every trace of a warning.

Oikawa stopped and slumped down on top of him, pressing his face into the crook of Hajime’s neck as he returned his wandering hand to a much less compromising position. “Sorry. I was almost sure this was a dream,” he mumbled pathetically, but Hajime could feel the grin pressed against the skin of his throat, the remorseless piece of shit.

“Do you take advantage of me in your dreams often?” he tried to play it off, as though he hadn’t just reinvented everything he knew about his best friend in the past few minutes, the past few weeks – as if he hadn’t just rediscovered himself. He ignored the disproportionate flow of blood between his brain and the part of his body that would have very much appreciated Oikawa’s wandering hand if it kept on wandering.

“Trust me, Iwa-chan – There’s always much less taking advantage than there is enthusiastic consent.” And wow, Hajime suddenly wished he could retract his question as an influx of blood traveled up his neck and face. He swallowed a few times, unable to find the words to respond. Oikawa just snickered into his shoulder as he wrapped a leg around Hajime’s, sending a pretty clear message that he may have agreed to stop, what – molesting Hajime? – but had no intention of letting him go anywhere. Apparently capturing a leg wasn’t enough to keep him down as he proceeded to wind his arms around his back. Hajime might sometimes be clingy in his sleep, but the word belonged to Oikawa during daylight hours. “Iwa-chan,” he mumbled quietly, sounding somber enough that Hajime couldn’t help but feel as though the three words that never stopped echoing in his head were finally going to be said again. “I think – I’ve been thinking that, well, you know – our universities aren’t too far away, we could maybe – if you want to – get a place together. Somewhere in the middle. When the time comes around.”

The words weren’t the same, but under the circumstances, Hajime knew they meant the same thing.

Hajime found himself wanting to hear those lost words again.

“Huh, kiss a guy once and suddenly he wants to move in with you,” he tried yet again to sound casual, but the tremor in his voice gave him away. “You move fast. How many times have you been married without telling me?”

“Just the once, but don’t worry, Iwa-chan. That’s in the past now – I’m all yours.”

Hajime really needed to stop trying to be smooth because Oikawa clearly had the upper hand and Hajime was just embarrassing himself.

“Oikawa –“

“It's Tooru,” he insisted, finally raising his head to beam down at him. His eyes were wide and hopeful, but their heavy dilation and his bruised lips ruined the innocent effect he was probably going for. It still fucking worked, though, because Hajime is weak.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes just to make a point. “Shittykawa Tooru,” he corrected himself. Oikawa slumped over again, huffing into his shoulder and jabbing him in the ribs. “You know where we live is up to our parents.”

“My parents would throw a party if they knew I’d be living with you. My mom has been crying for weeks about how I’ll die in the terrible, terrible city without someone to take care of me.”

“Its true, you would.”

“Then I guess you have no choice but to move in with me! Its settled.”

“The only thing that’s settled is how spoiled you are.”

“Can’t help it, I’m the baby of the family.”

“No, you’re just a baby.” And it was so terribly easy to fall into their usual banter even when Hajime wanted to ask so many questions, wanted to understand what he felt, wanted to understand what Oikawa felt – He just wanted –

“Hajime,” Oikawa whined, rolling over and dragging Hajime with him off the mattress and onto the floor. Hajime was pretty damned sure he landed on his phone if the sharp pain in his side was anything to go by.

“Oh, come on,” he hissed as he rolled away from Oikawa, grabbing his phone and tossing it at Oikawa’s smug face. The smug face he was just swapping spit with. The phone hit Oikawa square on the mouth and Hajime caught a flash of the ugliest wince in history before curling forward and hiding behind his hands as the actuality of everything that happened caught up with him. He should never be allowed to make decisions immediately after waking up. What the fuck was he thinking?

He’d never be able to look at Oikawa the same way again. Not that he could after the whole confession thing. He pressed his palms into his eyes.

“Hey Hajime,” Oikawa said as if being able to use his given name was some special privilege and he didn’t already do it whenever he felt like it. “We’re going out for lunch. To that old place downtown that you like – My treat!”

So that’s how it was – Oikawa really wanted it all, didn’t he? “Out to lunch – you mean like a date?”

“Of course I mean like a date,” Oikawa replied quickly, stepping around the semantics, the gritty details – still afraid of hearing something he didn’t want to hear. “You owe me that much after kissing me out of nowhere. I mean, really – at least give me a little warning,” Hajime noticed that Oikawa conveniently failed to leave an option to refuse. “And by the way, your breath stinks. You should really go brush your teeth.”

Hajime stared at him in disbelief. “I think I’m already prepared to dump you.”

Oikawa huffed as he stood up, but Hajime could still see the smile he couldn’t hide if he buried himself in the center of the earth. “Go get dressed. As nice as you are to look at, I don’t want anyone else getting any ideas.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“We haven’t gone that far yet.”

“Fucking – Trashykawa – I will throw your ass out the window, shut the fuck up.”

He picked up his phone to find the screen had broken yet again – and something about it tried to stir a memory from before his unending Tuesday, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. The thought was lost forever as Oikawa shuffled by and bent over to kiss him, pulling away looking as though he’d won some grand prize.

It was up until that point Hajime was still uncertain. Whether or not he was gay, whether or not he liked Oikawa – he really didn’t know.

But that smile stopped his heart right in his chest – and there was nothing platonic in the sudden desire to pull Oikawa back down to him and pick up from where they left off and – wow, his thoughts were getting horrendously off track.

Time loop – he was still stuck in a time loop. Technically this day wasn’t real. Unless Oikawa’s bullshit solution ‘learn a valuable life lesson’ was a real thing. Figuring out he was probably gay and was developing less than platonic feelings for his best friend were valuable life lessons, right? Maybe?

Valuable lesson or not, it wasn’t the solution to making Wednesday come into existence.

He threw his phone at the TV when his alarm screamed itself awake. It was wholly unsatisfying as neither the TV nor the phone showed any sign of damage, apparently being made out of fucking titanium when he actually wanted to break something.

Getting rid of Tuesday wasn’t something he was going to be able to do on his own, after all. Hajime may have been book smart, but critical thinking and planning shit out had always been Oikawa’s strong suit.

"You know the saying – always do what you’ve always done and you’ll always get what you’ve always got.”

Hajime’s head swerved over to where Matsukawa was instructing Kindaichi during their after school practice, the words taunting him with their useless simplicity. He scowled in their direction. After a few weeks of wasting time doing shit he never would have otherwise, those words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. After, fuck – kissing Oikawa and going out on a fucking date with him (which honestly wasn’t too different than getting food with him any other day), then dealing with his smug, shitty face and tooth rotting smiles and all the damned touching, so much fucking touching –

Off track, way off track.

If there was any sort of reason this was happening to him, it would make sense that the answer would be found in his daily life. So he opened his front door that morning with the purpose of enlisting Oikawa’s help, only for the words to bubble and die in his throat at the sight of an Oikawa who yet again had no memory of the previous day.

So he stuttered an awkward greeting and left Oikawa to his usual rambling, the phantoms of wandering hands and lips playing out across his body.

Matsukawa noticed the extra attention and raised a brow at Hajime, prompting Kindaichi to look over and flush slightly as he tugged at his collar. And, oops, Hajime almost forgot about that amidst his Oikawa crisis. Kindaichi apparently had a thing for him too, if Oikawa was right. He usually was. He shrugged it off when Kunimi joined him on the side of the court away from where Oikawa and Yahaba were attempting to cram some sense of technique into Kyoutani’s head and failing miserably.

“They’re too noisy,” Kunimi griped, referring to the setters who were supposed to be setting for the spikers.

Hajime snorted. “Go find Watari, he’s much easier to deal with than those two,” Kunimi hummed noncommittally as he sat down with his water bottle. “Or take a break. I’m not really in the mood to drill anyone today,” Kunimi probably already noticed that. If he sat down anywhere else, the coach would have been on him in an instant. Hajime was the current safe zone for slacking off.

It was a peaceful few moments before Kyoutani apparently had enough harassment and stalked over to their location, the ranting setters trailing behind him at full volume. Hajime grabbed a random water bottle and squirted the contents at the approaching dictators.

“Leave my spikers alone. I’m declaring this a setter free zone. They’ve endured your torture long enough.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa gasped as he gracefully dodged the attack. Yahaba wasn’t so lucky as he wiped the water from his eyes. “What use is a spiker without their setter?”

Hajime shrugged. “On the court? Not much. Off the court? Capable of delivering a very painful slap to the back of your head. And look at where we are.” He made a show of gesturing to their position, very much off of the court. Oikawa ignored the undisguised threat as he cocked his head and let a playful smile curl his lip, apparently content to let Hajime have his win if only to preserve his unusually good humor (read: threatening instead of immediately resorting to violence). “Go teach Yahaba your strongest move. I have a feeling he’ll pick it up easily.”

Yahaba looked up from where he was wringing the water out from his shirt. “Oikawa-san has already been helping me with my jump serve. We wanted to work on setting for the spikers today, but they all took off.”

Hajime eyed Kunimi who appeared to be trying to make himself as invisible as possible on the floor behind a wall of water bottles and Kyoutani who seemed to have retreated into the depths of his own mind where he was free from tyranny.

“I’ll work with them today,” Hajime insisted. “Besides, that wasn’t the move I was talking about. Oikawa’s strongest move is talking shit to peoples’ faces. Its up to you to uphold his status, Yahaba,” Even Yahaba’s respect for Oikawa couldn’t smother the smirk that crawled up as Oikawa sputtered at Hajime.

“Excuse you, Iwa-chan. I’ll have you know my strongest move is talking behind people’s backs, followed very closely by to their faces.”

“Oh, sorry. I always get them mixed up since behind their back usually means loudly and still within hearing range.” Oikawa’s face split into something that wanted to be both a smirk and a grin at the same time as he didn’t even bother to deny the fact. “Now go away. We’re taking a break.”

“Hmph, fine. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook for being so lazy today. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime scoffed, but let his eyes linger on Oikawa as he guided Yahaba back to the court, chatting animatedly the whole way with an extra spring in his step. Only Oikawa would be rejuvenated by being made fun of.

He returned his attention to his fellow spikers. “Here, have some milk bread. It’ll give you some energy.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re a million miles away right now,” Oikawa said after school on another Tuesday. Hajime failed to bring up the time loop a few days in a row, the sight of Oikawa throwing him off each time as his brain dissolved into mush. If this was what a fucking crush felt like, he was glad he’d never had much of one before.

Hajime blinked at the coy smile creeping onto Oikawa’s face, remembering how it felt against his neck. He shivered. “Not a million miles. Only about a month,” he replied, dragging his eyes to the forgotten pencil in his hands. He tapped out an unsteady rhythm on the textbook he hadn’t bothered opening to the correct page. After a moment he forced his eyes back up to find Oikawa still watching him with the same smile.

“You should be more careful when you zone out like that – you’ve been staring at me for ages. I was starting to get self-conscious.”

Hajime hummed under his breath as he yet again let his eyes fall away somewhere else. “Sorry. Just trying to figure something out.”

“Pretty sure there isn’t a calculus problem on my face, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sang. Hajime grabbed a sharpie and raised it towards Oikawa, snorting when he yelped and flopped away. “And I’d really prefer there not to be, thank you,” Hajime shrugged and looked out the window of Oikawa’s room, his own room visible across the street. Oikawa briefly followed his line of sight before snapping his eyes back to him. “So what’s on your mind? You’ve been a little off all day.”

Hajime resumed tapping on his textbook as he slouched over, resting his head on his other hand. “I’ve spent the past few weeks thinking about a few things. I mean, I tried not to think about them, but that didn’t work out too well,” he began.

When there was no follow up, Oikawa huffed and stole the marker from his hand just to throw it back at him. “Well? About what?”

Ignoring the assault, Hajime deliberately looked away. Always do what you’ve always done and you’ll always get what you’ve always got, Matsukawa’s stupid saying ran through his head. Maybe it was time Hajime confronted Oikawa verbally. Kissing him was one thing, and okay, fine, it turned out to be quite the thing – but they hadn’t really talked about anything. Hadn’t really solved anything.

“You, mostly,” he muttered. After a prolonged silence, he flicked his eyes back over to Oikawa who stared back with obvious shock.

Uncertainly, he asked, “You – you know what that sounds like, right?”

“Yeah.” He could tell the lack of follow up was starting to piss Oikawa off, but a pissy Oikawa was an honest Oikawa, so he didn’t bother indulging him.

“Well?” Oikawa asked anxiously, clenching his fists in his lap.

“You look good when you wear glasses,” Hajime not-answered, not yet brave enough to say the words he needed to say or ask the questions he needed to ask. He was a man of action, alright? Words were fucking scary. Words left vulnerability, they leave a hole straight to the heart where anyone can reach in and mess everything up. He was starting to understand why Oikawa seemed incapable of confessing like a normal human being – he was just as terrible at talking things out as Hajime was.

Ironic, considering how much he liked the sound of his own voice.

Oikawa blinked before reaching to push his glasses up, somehow surprised and offended when he found that the aforementioned glasses weren’t perched on his nose to maximize his attractiveness. He coughed as he took a discrete look around the room, casually leaning back. “So the nerdy look is what you’re into?” he asked.

So very casually, of course.

When Hajime rewarded him with a flat stare, Oikawa started chewing on his bottom lip and it was really fucking annoying how endearing that was. Oikawa sprung up from the ground, his English book hitting the wood flooring with a dull thud. “Wow, my eyes suddenly got really dry! Be right back!” He scrambled out of the room whilst attempting to take his contacts out, slamming his shoulder against the door frame in the process and rebounding backwards. With a small ‘ow’ he disappeared from view. Hajime briefly felt he should be embarrassed for the both of them, but whatever. If the day was just going to reset forever, he might as well say stupid shit if only to see the stupid shit Oikawa did in return. He’d have to work himself up to the more serious stuff. Learning to talk about crap was a valuable life lesson, right? Maybe that was the true secret to all of this.

With that thought, Oikawa strode back in through the door, glasses and smug smile fixed in place.

“So I look good now, huh?” he asked as he leered down at Hajime, any trace of nerves professionally concealed.

Hajime gave him another unimpressed look as he lifted a brow. “Not with the face you’re currently making,” Oikawa literally fell into a sulk as he dropped down onto the floor cross legged, knee to knee with Hajime. “Oh wait, this face is better.”

“You’re a sadist," Oikawa grouched as he pressed his glasses further up his nose.

“Really? Because I feel like a masochist for putting up with you for so long,” Hajime teased.

Oikawa sniffed, failing to suppress the upturn of his lip as he looked down his nose at Hajime. “It should be an honor to have spent so much time with me, Iwa-chan.”

“Something like that, yeah,” Hajime answered sedately, watching the blush spread across Oikawa’s face as he struggled to find the right words to the candid response.

“Iwa-chan, I’ll be honest here –” Oikawa awkwardly glanced to the side before locking his eyes onto Hajime’s. “I really can’t tell whether you’re flirting with me right now or if you’re just –” He gestured incomprehensively at Hajime. “Being yourself,” he finished lamely.

Hajime curled up a little at the word flirting, and then even more as Oikawa flinched and appeared to regret saying anything at all.

“I’m still figuring that out, too,” Half-true. He’d already regretfully accepted there were definitely more than friendly feelings between them, but he knew that something like starting an actual relationship would be a disaster on multiple levels. Something as intrinsically harmless as being in a gay relationship had its repercussions – especially in sports. He didn’t want to be the reason Oikawa had to struggle even more to reach his dreams. He also knew Oikawa would want to take the risk.

Always – always taking the risk.

Oikawa straightened up a little bit and scooted back to his abandoned book, turning his head in a futile effort to minimize Hajime’s view of the increasing color to his face. “Oh. Well.” He cleared his throat as he looked down and flipped through the novel’s pages. “Continue staring if that’s helping you figure things out. Stare a lot. As much as you want. My face is my best feature and apparently I look good in glasses.”

“Oi –” It's Tooru. “Tooru.”

Oikawa startled slightly, his glasses almost falling off as he whipped his head over, wide-eyed, to look at Hajime. “Yes?” And it was pathetic, because Oikawa really did look good in glasses and that stupid thought wiped whatever Hajime was going to say right out of his head.

“Shit. Uh.” He hunched over as he tapped his fingers anxiously, the color of his face coming to match Oikawa’s. When Oikawa had the audacity to look at him fondly of all things, Hajime spewed out, “How did you know?”

With a blink, Oikawa asked, “Know what?”

It was Hajime’s turn to gesture incomprehensively. “About – about how you feel. About me.”

And shit, he was supposed to be asking for help with the time loop, wasn’t he? That definitely wasn’t what he wanted to ask, but the question had been burning a hole in his head ever since Oikawa said I love you. How did he know? How long had he known? When did it all start? How did Hajime miss it? Hajime didn’t know he’d ever even entertain the possibility of a relationship if Oikawa hadn’t made the first move, but it was seeming all too real and all too incredibly fucking natural now.

He really hoped his time loop had something to do with Oikawa or he was going to be stuck in Tuesday forever.

Oikawa’s face blanched out as he stared slack jawed at Hajime, and he supposed he was kind of being a dick for putting him on the spot like that. “Uh. I – well, I – didn’t realize you noticed,” Oikawa muttered, his voice tapering off into nothingness – and yeah, maybe Hajime was enjoying making him uncomfortable a little too much.

“Someone told me.”

Oikawa jumped up, flustered. “What? Who was it? It was Mattsun, wasn’t it? He’s always getting into everyone’s business. That little gossip, no wonder he’s been looking so smug lately. I’m going to have some words with him tomorrow. No wait, right now! Where’s my phone?”

“Matsukawa knows? If he knows, Hanamaki knows. Who else knows? Do you just run around spouting your love for me when I’m not around?”

Oikawa was in the middle of emptying the contents of his bag on his bed in search of his phone – which Hajime could see sitting on his desk in plain sight.

“I don’t do that!” Oikawa claimed, spinning around with an angry finger pointed in his direction. “They just knew and then they started pestering me everyday, then they started pestering me when you were around so I went along with it like it was some big joke so you wouldn’t figure it out!” His jaw clicked shut as he caught sight of Hajime’s stunned face, made aware of just how much he revealed.

“They – they started that back in first year, Tooru, what the hell?” And there was no better definition for mortification than Oikawa’s face at that moment. “Three whole years? Why didn’t you just say something?” Hajime thought avoiding the issue for a few weeks was bad, but Oikawa was just ridiculous.

“Because you never showed any interest! In anyone, Iwa-chan. And what were the chances that you’d feel the same way about me? I mean, we’re both… we’re not…”

‘We’re both men’, ‘we’re not gay’; the stigma was still strong – Even as progressive as they might consider themselves, the label was still there – and it was still heavy.

“We’re both idiots, if that’s what you mean,” Hajime said, picking himself off the floor and reaching out for Oikawa. “Tooru, I love you.” And fuck, that happened. The words shouldn’t have been so easy to say when ten minutes ago he didn’t even know he felt that much. “I love you,” he repeated just to make sure. “Oh.” Oh. He really did love him. Oikawa Tooru with his stupid face and shitty personality – it was a disaster in the making, but Hajime fucking loved the bastard. “Fuck, I actually love you.” He was going to spend the rest of his life with the selfish shithead and never regret a thing. He found himself with an armful of Oikawa when he slammed against Hajime, nearly toppling the both of them over. “Are you crying?”

“It's your fault,” He babbled into his chest. Hajime couldn’t see his face, but he was familiar enough with him to know what he looked like when he was emotional – the type of ugly that often gets mistaken for cute. “Iwa-chan’s so dense.”

“Its Hajime,” he corrected as Oikawa wiped his face on Hajime’s shirt. Oikawa sniffed, confirming that yes, Hajime now had snot on him. “I hope you’re planning on buying me a new shirt.”

“You deserve this.”

“If you had any idea what I’ve been –”

Oikawa never let him finish his sentence as he swallowed the words with his mouth – and Hajime let him have that. It was Oikawa’s – It was Tooru’s first kiss with Hajime. Another first kiss he wouldn’t remember.

But he was starting to accept that it was alright – everything was alright – when Tooru’s hands combed through his hair as he slotted his body against him in a way that begged for so much more – so much more that Hajime couldn’t even begin to comprehend how badly Oikawa wanted this, how he managed to keep the wool over Hajime’s eyes for so long – for three fucking years.

He really was dense.

“Hajime,” Oikawa breathed as he pulled away, his glasses sitting crookedly on his nose, and Hajime had never before been so aware of their height difference as he found himself craning his head to maintain eye contact through the short distance. There was still a glimmer of wetness beneath Oikawa’s eyes, accompanied by splotches of red and Hajime gave into the urge to reach up and brush the trace of tears away just for Oikawa to clamp his own hand over his as he leaned into the touch.

“Clingy,” Hajime accused with a soothing smile, the hand at the small of Hajime’s back shamelessly pulling him closer in retaliation.

“Hajime,” Oikawa said again, much more firmly. His eyes narrowed slightly, but the thumb stroking Hajime’s hand was so terribly distracting he didn’t spare the slight action a thought. “Hajime, that wasn’t your first kiss. I know what first kisses are like and that definitely wasn’t one. Have you been sneaking around behind my back?” Hajime snorted and couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling in his throat from spilling out, much to Oikawa’s indignation. “It's not funny! I wanted to teach you.”

“Its been what, a minute? And you’re already playing the jealous lover?”

A flush spread over Oikawa’s skin as he purposely avoided eye contact, his mouth pinching together unattractively. “So who was it?”

“Just you.”

“I think I’d remember kissing you before.” The words lit a flare of guilt in Hajime’s chest. Maybe he’d grown to accept his situation, but Tooru couldn’t even remember what he was going through. “Unless – have you been kissing me in my sleep? Iwa-chan, you dog.”

Never mind, guilt gone. Tooru was an idiot.

“That sounds like some desperate shit you’d pull, not me.” When Tooru didn’t respond and deliberately plastered a much too forced smile on his face, Hajime understood. He shoved Tooru and slapped a hand over his face with a groan. “Are you kidding me right now? How many times?”

Tooru tried taking a step closer, but hesitated at the piercing stare Hajime threw at him. The corner of his lips twinged up nervously as he waved his hands in front of him. “It was just once! Just the one time, I promise! Okay, maybe twice. Maybe three times if you count that one time, but I’m not counting that one time. Or that other time and the time before,” He continued in a mumble. Hajime sat down against the wall with a sigh. The guilt was definitely gone. Tooru tensed defensively, hands on his hips and his head turned up as though his honesty exonerated him from any crime. “They were just tiny little pecks, barely even that! I’ve given my grandma better kisses! And its your fault! You sleep like a rock! And do you know how hard it is to not to kiss you when you’re groping me in the middle of the night?”

Hajime threw an eraser at him. “I should sue you for sexual harassment! And you’re the one who always decides to sleep so close to me when we go to each others houses even though you know I grab onto everything! At training camp too!”

“Not that it stopped you from cozying up to Makki those few times,” He grumbled.

Hajime ignored him. “And when did this all start? First year?”

The fake smile again, this time accompanied by a sudden need to hum horribly out of tune.

“Shittykawa,”

“Fine! Okay! Last year of middle school, alright? Just once on the forehead! Can we go back to kissing instead of talking about kissing? I think that was a much more enthralling subject,” He sat himself down right on Hajime’s lap while tangling his hands around the back of his neck. Hajime clamped his own hand over Tooru’s mouth before it could crash into his own.

“Middle school? Do you really think I’d just let that drop?”

“No,” Tooru accepted defeat as he fucking wilted on top of Hajime, his voice muffled by the hand over his mouth. “That’s why I tried to distract you.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Tooru, when did all of this really start?”

“Do we really have to talk about this? What about you? I don’t think you just suddenly woke up this morning, saw my beautiful selfies and said, ‘hey, now there’s a face I wouldn’t mind waking up to for the rest of my life’. Even if I definitely do have a face no one would mind waking up to for the rest of their life. That was a bad example.”

Hajime restrained himself from strangling his – whatever Tooru was now and decided it was now or never for this Tuesday. “I’ve been stuck in a time loop for a while and being the dumbass you are, you decided to take advantage of it and confessed to me right before a reset.” Hajime took a moment to enjoy the visible lack of comprehension on Tooru’s vacant face before continuing. Out of everything he might have expected Hajime to say, that definitely wasn’t it. “Then on a different Tuesday when I was trying to think of a way to turn you down, I made a stupid bet that ended with you kissing me.” Just remembering the stress and confusion following that night darkened his mood. “It messed me up, Tooru. You’re seriously a greedy piece of shit, you know that?”

Tooru’s face was still blank, but his eyes were sharp and analytical as he took in everything he said. “What happened then?” He inquired, close enough to breathe in, lips moving fleetingly against Hajime’s.

Hajime shivered, ignoring the victorious glimmer on Tooru’s face as he continued with a stutter. “I, uh, I avoided you for a while. Then I guess one day I accidentally slept in and when I woke up, you were – you were in my bed. Then I kissed you,” he hissed as Oikawa’s hand reached up under his shirt.

“So you kissed me in bed, huh? What then?” he asked, his voice low and husky before grabbing Hajime’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“Uh,” Hajime managed when Oikawa’s mouth teased down his neck and he slowly dragged his tongue up his throat while cool fingers danced along his back, sending a jolt down his spine. “Uh, then, ah – this happened. Basically,” he choked out. He only hoped he was audible, because the only thing he could hear was the sharp silence surrounding them, ringing in his ears at a shattering decibel as Oikawa bit his jaw.

Tooru nipped his way up to Hajime’s ear as he skirted his hand across the waistband of Hajime’s shorts. “Details, Hajime,” he breathed into his ear, his other hand reaching down and down and – he shoved Tooru right the fuck off of him and onto the floor. “Okay,” he wheezed. He’d knocked the wind out of him. “Clearly we didn’t get that far yet.”

Hajime was sure that that between his embarrassment, anger, and other things, there was visible steam pouring off of him. “I’m trying to tell you about how I’m stuck in a fucking time loop and all you can think about is – is – is –”

“Sex, Iwa-chaaan.” He broke out into a wheezing laugh as Hajime tried to throw a book at his face. “I’m kidding, kidding. Mostly. Just saying – if some other me managed to get there first...”

“Tomorrow, you’re going to be some other you unless you help me figure out how to get out of this,” Hajime seethed.

“Ah. Good point,” Tooru said under his breath as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, readjusting his glasses. “You know – in one old movie sex was the way to get out of the time loop.” He dodged a kick to the face. “Just saying, Hajime. I mean, maybe try it as a last resort? Today maybe?”

“I’m leaving.” Hajime stood up and only made it a few steps before Tooru grabbed onto his legs, forcing him to trip and stumble onto the ground next to him.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry! I’ll stop teasing you! I’m just – It's just –”

Hajime knew.

He didn’t really give Tooru much time to process the whole I love you bit before throwing the plot to a science fiction movie on him. He should really start timing things better.

“I love you,” Tooru confided as he laced their hands together, the smile on his face so unbearably sweet that Hajime was sure he’d die if it was aimed at him too long. Tooru pressed their sides together, seemingly content with the simple contact as he allowed a stretch of silence – presumably for the both of them to collect their thoughts.

“I don’t want you to forget anymore,” Hajime’s voice shook. Tooru stroked his hand with a thumb, the simple gesture doing more to calm Hajime down than a month’s self-appointed vacation ever could. “I miss you.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Tooru promised.

He lied.

“Are you sure it's not aliens?” Another Tooru on a different day asked as he pushed himself back on an old swing set, kicking sand into the air.

“If I saw an alien, I would remember.”

“I dunno – what if it's not your time loop, but you got sucked into remembering everything eventually – maybe you were like the rest of us and couldn’t remember anything at first?”

“Then there would be literally nothing we could do to get me out of this.”

“In one old movie the main character got out of his time loop by winning his one true love and sealing the deal,” Tooru said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Oops, I’ve tried that one before, haven’t I? Wait, am I your one true love, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime dumped an abandoned bucket of sand over Tooru’s head.

He hoped there was cat shit in it.

After several days following a frustratingly similar vein, Hajime needed another break. Tooru tried, he really did – but the science fiction in reality shit was clearly beyond him. Hajime’s problem wasn’t going to be solved by movie logic or wishful thinking.

He was done stressing over it, he tried to tell himself as he shamelessly ogled Tooru’s ass one day at morning practice. He’d barely touched Tooru since the day he acknowledged he loved him back – knowing it was both a distraction and unfair to both of them.

The most terrifying thing he could think of was for Tooru to become predictable.

“Enjoying the view?”

Hajime flinched when Matsukawa materialized beside him, letting out a low whistle when Oikawa lifted his shirt to cool himself off.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Kindaichi?”

“He’s practicing something with Kunimi right now. Well, when he’s not busy watching you watch Oikawa.”

“Man, Oikawa was right. You really do get into everyone’s business, don’t you?” Hajime asked, turning his attention to Kindaichi – who was, in fact, staring right at Hajime. Kindaichi spun away with a flush, only to be greeted with a spike to the face. Hajime didn’t know whether or not that was intentional on Kunimi’s behalf. Matsukawa watched the event with growing amusement. “So what I am supposed to do about it?”

“Oikawa or Kindaichi?”

“Kindaichi,” Hajime clarified. “I already know how to handle Tooru.”

“Ooh, its Tooru now, huh?”

“I’ve been calling him Tooru since I learned to talk, dipshit.”

“Not in front of us, you haven’t.” And Hajime had to concede to the point. Using family names turned into a habit somewhere along middle school in some pointless endeavor to feel more like an adult. Something Tooru eventually flipped upside down with his stupid nicknames and Hajime kept up out of spite. “As for Kindaichi – He’s harmless, you don’t need to do anything. But he might appreciate an extra compliment here and there, if only for the team’s sake. He’s always 5000% more motivated after you give him one. Now if only there was a way to motivate Kunimi.”

Hajime kept that in mind even as Tooru noticed their little powwow and bowled into them, halting any further conversation.

It was during cleanup when he decided he might as well give it a shot.

“Hey, Kindaichi.” And shit, maybe he should have thought of what to say before deciding to say it. He rubbed the back of his neck as 1000 watts of the most powerful puppy eyes he’d ever encountered pinned him to the spot.

“Iwaizumi-san! Did you need anything?” He asked as he dropped an armful of volleyballs and flounced over to him, abandoning a resigned Kunimi to their duties.

“Oh, no. I don’t need anything, I just – uh. Wanted to say – Good job today.” Hajime patted Kindaichi’s shoulder three times before turning on his heel and scurrying away.

“T-thank you, Iwaizumi-san!” Kindaichi shouted to his back, sounding way too enthusiastic.

It was Tooru’s turn to pop out of thin air as Hajime glanced back for barely a millisecond only to turn around and smash his nose into Tooru’s jaw.

“What the shit?” He pinched his nose, glad there was no blood, but fuck if it didn’t hurt like a bitch. Tooru’s hands cupped Hajime’s face as he inspected it, actually managing to look concerned when Hajime knew he was laughing on the inside. Hajime shooed him away with his hand.

“Really, Iwa-chan, you should pay more attention to where you’re going.”

“I am going to push you down a flight of stairs,” Hajime growled.

“I’ll pull you down with me! And then we can share a hospital room together.”

“I’d rather be left for dead.”

“Aw, don’t worry – we could share the bed if you wanted to. I’m sure we could find one big enough for the both of us.”

“And it still wouldn’t be big enough to fit your ego.”

“Ouch, Iwa-chan,” he said, lumbering over and throwing all of his weight onto Hajime.

The topic of Kindaichi was forgotten until lunch.

“Oh look, its Iwa-chan’s only fan,” Tooru said through a mouthful of milk bread as he pointed at him standing in the open doorway, successfully scaring him away.

“Oh look,” Hanamaki mimicked, “It's the natural reaction to being spotted by Oikawa.”

“Should I go see what he wants?” Hajime asked, wrestling away the piece of milk bread Tooru was attempting to smash into Hanamaki’s face.

“I think we all know what he wants,” Tooru muttered in what he probably thought was under his breath.

“You’ll need to hurry to catch up with him before he’s gone,” Matsukawa advised, ignoring Tooru’s existence. Tooru grappled onto to Hajime’s arm as he stood to leave.

It took dragging him across the room and into multiple desks, but Hajime managed to shake him off before following the path he figured Kindaichi took. He found a flustered Kindaichi and an irritated Kunimi in the stairwell.

“Hey, uh, everything alright, guys?” he asked when they didn’t notice him.

“I – Iwaizumi-san!” Kindaichi squeaked.

Kunimi pushed Kindaichi towards Hajime. “He wanted to talk to you,” ue unceremoniously announced before taking the stairs down. Kindaichi watched him walk away in horror.

“Did something happen?” Hajime asked.

“No! No, sorry. I just wanted to let you know, uh, we both wanted to tell you before graduation that we learned a lot from you this year – I mean, we learned a lot from everyone on the team! Oikawa-san too, of course! But, you always made extra time for us, like yesterday – So I just wanted – to say –” He ran his hands through his hair and scowled at the ground. “Thank you.” His scowl deepened as if the wrong words came out.

Hajime, thanks to certain parties, wasn’t oblivious to what Kindaichi probably wanted to say. He took a few steps closer and slapped his upper arm with a grin. “Don’t worry about it. I know Oikawa can be a pain to deal with sometimes so I’ve always made sure to pick up his slack. Spending a little extra time with you guys here and there really isn’t a big deal.”

“Ah, well – still. Even back in middle school you were always so nice to everyone. I just really wanted you to know – that – I – really... appreciated it. A lot.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. Just make sure not to slack off when I’m not around, I’m expecting to see you guys on the court in university, too. Even if it's on the opposite side.”

“Of course! Next year – next year and the year after that, we won’t lose to anyone!”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

And whether Hajime was somehow being too encouraging or Kindaichi was just a little too determined, Kindaichi lurched forward to press his lips against Hajime’s in a chaste kiss. He’d barely pulled away, his face horrified, when Hajime was yanked backwards and away from both the stairs and Kindaichi.

He wasn’t surprised to find it was Tooru dragging him around when they’d come to a halt around the corner.

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s tone was light, but his face was pained.

Hajime cuffed the back of Tooru’s head. “Do you always follow me around like I’m your cheating husband or is this a new development?” Hackles raised, Tooru turned an infuriated glare on Hajime. “Relax Tooru, fuck. It was just a kiss. He knew it wasn’t going anywhere before it even happened.”

“It wasn’t just a kiss,” Tooru snapped.

Hajime felt bad for the sudden grin, but Tooru was such a hypocrite he couldn’t help it. He stepped close to whisper, “Then I guess you’re just going to have to make me forget all about it later.”

Tooru was frozen to the spot as Hajime walked back to class, just in time for the bell to ring.

Kindaichi didn’t show up to practice, but Tooru followed through on Hajime’s suggestion. Aggressively.

He spent some days trying to find the right words for Kindaichi. Words that would encourage him to continue working hard at volleyball, but said in such as way that wouldn’t give him hope for something more. He failed a few times, got asked out on a date once after a very botched attempt, and was more often than not rescued by a very aggravated Tooru.

He eventually found that mentioning Tooru in addition to himself in his motivational speech was the key to keeping Kindaichi at bay. Using Tooru’s given name instead of Oikawa increased the effectiveness and he knew he was sending the message ‘not available’ pretty strong, but it didn’t seem to affect Kindaichi’s volleyball drive. After he finally managed the conversation with exactly the right amount of everything, he found Tooru in his eavesdropping spot around the corner, posed leaning against the wall with an easy smile on his face.

“Look at you, Iwa-chan. Motivating the kids.”

“Someone has to,” he replied pointedly as Oikawa reached over to drape an arm along the span of his back. Hajime wore the air of the put upon vice captain, but he knew his expression must not have matched when Tooru’s breath hitched and the tips of his ears burned red.

He spent a week studying as the thought of suddenly being free from the time loop and being more than a month behind in school scared him into nearly into a fucking heart attack.

He spent another several days looking at possible locations for an apartment he could share with Tooru in university, eventually finding a place that was reasonably priced, appeared to be well maintained, and was conveniently near the train station. He burned the location to memory in the desperate hopes that it might someday be useful.

He spent a lot of time ditching school with Tooru to play volleyball or whatever Tooru felt like doing for the day, since before the unending Tuesday they’ve never actually ditched school on purpose a day in their lives and Tooru seemed to get a childish rush out of it. Hajime discovered he enjoyed watching the rebellious smile flash across his face as he checked the time on his phone whenever they were supposed to be starting class.

He spent a few days trying to think about what he liked about Tooru even though he was a shithead. He wrote a list when he was sitting in Tooru’s room, pretending to listen to him complain about how he hated chemistry, just to find everything he wrote was an insult.

“Are you paying attention to me, Iwa-chan?”

“Nope,” he answered, not even looking up. The paper was ripped from his hands as a disgruntled Tooru scanned over it, probably wondering why it deserved more attention than him.

“What is this,” he deadpanned, eyes narrowed to slits.

“I was thinking about titling it An Ode to Tooru.”

And oh, he also really liked the way Tooru suddenly became so much more aware whenever Hajime used his given name. He supposed one benefit of the time loop was that Tooru would never get used to it.

He wondered if he should save it for special occasions when he was finally free.

“Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah?”

“Why does it say down here that I have no good qualities and that you must have Stockholm Syndrome?”

“If you’ve eliminated all other possibilities, whatever remains must be the truth,” he quipped, resulting in an attack that ended with him being duct taped to a chair and being lectured about how he was going to learn a few things about actual Stockholm Syndrome very soon.

He loved the idiot. He didn’t need a tangible reason for it.

He’d lost track of how many Tuesdays he’d been in somewhere along the first month, but some vague number was always in the back of his head and he figured it must have been around three or four months before he mentioned the time loop to anyone besides Tooru.

To Kunimi, of all people.

It was a day he let Tooru drag him to school even though he was planning on browsing the PlayStation Network and playing whatever looked interesting.

He brought his PS Vita to school anyway and feigned stomach pain as he took a spot on the bench. Kunimi, ever the quick learner, joined him.

“I hate mornings,” Kunimi substituted for a greeting. Hajime spared him a grin before he had to dodge a ball Hanamaki ‘accidentally’ spiked at him, probably unappreciative of being put in charge of drills in Hajime’s place.

“I hate Tuesday mornings, specifically,” Hajime replied. “They’re the worst. It doesn’t help that everyday is Tuesday lately,” And for the first time all year, Kunimi’s face transformed from its usual apathy to confusion. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt, Hajime explained, “I’m stuck in a time loop. Its been Tuesday for a few months now.” Kunimi’s baffled face didn’t change as he did the closest thing to gawking that he was capable of. Hajime shrugged and unpaused his game.

A few minutes of silence between them went by before he figured Kunimi must have thought he misheard or was still asleep.

“How did you get stuck in a time loop?” Kunimi asked, the unexpectedness of it startling Hajime into his virtual death.

“Um,” Hajime blinked at Kunimi. “I don’t know. It just happened.”

“Something must have happened,” Kunimi said, turning his head away just in time to see Kindaichi plummet headfirst into the ground. “Something on the first day, before it started.”

Hajime didn’t waste his time wondering about whether or not Kunimi believed him, torn between the shock that Kunimi was actually taking an interest in something and remembering how level headed he was and that he might actually be able to offer some advice the science fiction aficionado, Tooru, wasn’t able to. He spent a moment trying to remember the first Tuesday.

It felt like years ago, but living in the echo of it prevented him from forgetting completely.

It was just a normal day. He woke up, tried to stop himself from destroying his piece of shit phone when the alarm went off, went to volleyball and school, then went to Tooru’s house.

Kunimi was going to ask something again when Kindaichi plopped down between them, an ice pack on his nose. Kunimi’s face changed to something that might have resembled long-suffering exasperation as Kindaichi stammered out an unnecessary apology to Iwaizumi for being so clumsy.

Hajime spent the rest of the day trying to remember what happened the first day.

He spent the next day recreating the original day, trying to do and say thing things he would have before everything started, finding it difficult to do so around Tooru, but managing. It was after school at Tooru’s house when he realized he had no memory of the latter part of the day.

Did he stay at Tooru’s? Did he go home? Did he go for a run?

Did he do some hardcore drugs and pass the fuck out and everything was just some extended acid trip?

If he had any idea where people would even go to buy drugs, he probably still wouldn’t consider it a possibility. The body is a temple and all that shit.

Seriously, what the hell did he do that first Tuesday?

He threw recreating the day out with his blood pressure as it soared through the roof and blasted all the way to the fucking Andromeda Galaxy. When Tooru started sending him concerned glances, Hajime curled around him, breathed him in, and fell asleep with a worried hand carding through his hair.

A few days later, after trying a few variations of whatever he usually did on school day, he pulled Kunimi out of the gym at morning practice to talk.

“I need your help.”

Kunimi frowned as he watched the gym door close in the faces of a few curious teammates and Hajime had to drag him further away when he noticed the door open just slightly enough for whoever was on the other side to eavesdrop. Probably Tooru.

“Is this about Kindaichi?” Kunimi asked. “I’ve already tried talking to him.”

“What? Oh, no. This is, uh, something else. I tried getting Tooru to help me already, but I think you’re smarter than him when it comes to certain things. Don’t tell him I said that or he’ll be a dick all day.”

A glimmer of humor actually showed in Kunimi’s expression before Tooru popped out from behind a fucking bush.

“Did you seriously run to the side door and sneak all the way over here just to eavesdrop?” Hajime hissed. He didn’t even know how it was possible to be that fast.

“Excuse me? Did you seriously just say Kunimi was smarter than me?”

Hajime rolled his eyes and turned back to Kunimi.

“I’m stuck in a time loop.” As predicted, his two man audience went silent. Momentarily, anyhow.

“Why would you need Kunimi’s help with that?” Tooru asked, skipping straight past the skepticism and right into offense.

“Because your method of helping is quoting fictional plots at me!” he shouted. “I brought it up to Kunimi once before and he was actually rational about it, even if he didn’t believe me.”

“Why would you even bring it up to him?” Tooru grumbled, still affronted that he hadn’t been included in their get together.

“We were both sitting on the bench pretending to be sick to get out of practice and I figured why the hell not.”

A pause. “You were slacking off at volleyball practice? How could you, Iwa-chan?”

“I’ve been living the same exact day for months.” He turned back to a thus far silent Kunimi. As expected, he’d managed to school his face back into its usual apathy during their squabble. “Last time you said something must have happened on the first Tuesday, so I tried to recreate that day as exact as I could – but I just don’t know what would have started this. I don’t even remember what I did after school, so that either means something really weird happened or absolutely nothing happened.”

Kunimi kind of just stared at him for a minute and he could practically hear the gears in Tooru’s head working on overdrive to try and come up with something to say that would definitely be smarter than whatever Kunimi could come up with. Kunimi was probably just wondering if Hajime forgot to take his medication that morning.

“How does it work?” Kunimi finally asked. “The time loop.”

“They day resets at midnight and I wake up at five am when my alarm goes off.” Or to his never ending frustration, immediately before his alarm went off – but he grudgingly learned to accept it. It wasn’t like he had much choice.

“Midnight exactly?” Tooru asked.

“Yes,” he answered, able to tell Tooru was already plotting his stupid confession scheme instead of trying to think of ways to help him.

“It's weird,” Kunimi said. “Why would it be midnight exactly? I don’t understand why a time loop would need to follow the Japanese timezone.”

“It's a time loop, it's not supposed to make sense,” Tooru sagely explained, rolling his eyes.

“If it doesn’t make sense, it only means we have yet to understand it,” Kunimi droned – much to Tooru’s ire. Probably only because he’d never manage to say anything even half as profound in his entire life.

Hajime was starting to think Kunimi was the type of guy who was so smart that school didn’t challenge him enough, hence his perpetual disinterest.

Or he was just a bigger nerd than Tooru.

Either way, he appreciated the fact that Kunimi just calmly went along with all the shit Hajime threw at him. Ultimately, he supposed he hoped for too much. The science fiction in reality shit was beyond Kunimi too. But at least he’d been given something to think about.

What happened that first day? Why midnight?

It was on a day he ditched school with Tooru that he remembered.

“Wait, thirteen unread messages? I put love and care into those photos and you didn’t even open them?” he crowed as he swiped Hajime’s phone.

Hajime was about to lecture him about his narcissism for probably the millionth time when Tooru tripped on rock and threw his arms out to stabilize himself – and therefore catapulting Hajime’s phone down and off the side of the cliff they were hiking on. He watched in morbid fascination as it hit every single boulder while bouncing down the untraversable mountainside before it clicked.

He careened his head over to Tooru who was raised his hands defensively as he took a few jittery steps backwards, trying to plot out the best route for escape. “Please don’t throw me down there too,” he pleaded.

Hajime grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him.

“I love you,” he said to the stupefied Tooru, dragging him back down the trail.

Tooru managed to recreate what happened at the end of that first Tuesday by being a clumsy oaf. Hajime dropped his fucking phone on a trail by his house, managing to forget about it completely when he woke up and it was Tuesday again.

It didn’t make sense – except it did. The reset happened exactly at midnight to the second according to his phone. He’d cracked the screen and done some minor damage to it multiple times over the course of his time loop hell, but he’d never fully disabled it, never broke it down completely, never turned the fucking thing off.

He ditched Tooru as they neared their houses, ignoring the hopeful confusion and hesitant questions lobbed at him so he could shut himself in his room to try and fall asleep. It was an hour later when Tooru determinedly blasted into his room with the intention of resolving everything Hajime didn’t say.

Hajime pulled him into bed, promised they’d talk tomorrow, and fell asleep with Tooru’s arms wrapped possessively around him.

His eyes snapped open precisely three seconds before his phone alarm screamed bloody murder in his ear, some shitty pop song Oikawa downloaded on his phone and Hajime accepted to be annoying enough to force him out of bed in the morning (if only to hate the world he lived in).

He sat up calmly, the resignation of having to wake up to that shit long since settled in. He reached for his phone, took it out of the protective casing, and walked downstairs to grab a hammer.

A hand on his forehead and a slight shake to his shoulder woke him up. He rolled away with a groan, curling his knees up to his chest. “Iwa-chaaan,” the familiar whine reached his ears. “It’s almost time for practice and you’re still trying to sleep.”

He blinked heavily at the blur of the world around him before propelling upwards, clanging his head against Tooru’s. He ignored the pain and Tooru’s bitching as he groped around for his phone, not finding it where it always was, or anywhere else it would usually migrate to on the days he managed to sleep disable the alarms.

“What are you doing?” Tooru griped from where he was clutching his nose.

“Today’s Tuesday, right?”

“Yeees?”

“Call my phone,” When Tooru only blinked at him, Hajime groped around in Tooru’s pockets until he found his phone.

“A little frisky this morning, huh?” Tooru asked, far too amused for so early in the morning.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied as he found his number in the contacts list.

Straight to voicemail. His eyes lost their focus as he stared at the phone, listening as his own tiny voice told him to leave a message.

“What’s going on? Where’s your phone?” he heard Tooru ask, his voice sounding miles away.

It worked?

His fucking phone was the key to all of this?

Why? How?

Never fucking mind, it was over. His phone was gone and this would be the last Tuesday he’d ever have to suffer through. Probably. He’d only be convinced when it was Wednesday. For all he know, his phone was a vindictive bastard that would keep him in Tuesday from beyond the grave.

“Iwa-chan, we’re going to be late to practice.”

“Yeah – yeah. Sorry. One sec,” he said as he handed Tooru’s phone back and pushed himself off his bed, savoring the way Tooru’s eyes drank in the sight of his bare skin as he stretched.

Wednesday, he promised himself. He’d tell Tooru then. Everything.

“So what happened to your phone?” Tooru asked as he unabashedly watched Hajime dress.

“Lost it when I was hiking.”

“So you didn’t get my messages last night?”

“A bear might have.”

“I didn’t take all those pictures for a bear, Iwa-chan. I’m going to show them to you on the way to practice.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“And now you can be even more fine! And see how fine I am at the same time,” he exclaimed as he grinned and fiddled with his phone.

“You’re incredibly lucky I’m morally bound to tolerate you.”

He went to practice. He went to class. He teased Tooru with Hanamaki and Matsukawa at lunch, motivated Kindaichi before practice, thanked a nonplussed Kunimi for his help, did his homework at Tooru’s house, and went to sleep.

He woke up to his newest alarm clock: Tooru.

“Is today Tuesday?” he asked, trying not to let the anxiety shake his speech.

“It's Wednesday, Iwa-chan. Yesterday was Tuesday.”

“Oh,” he said, falling back down into his bed and staring vacantly at the ceiling. “It's Wednesday,” He echoed, the monotony of his voice shrouding the chaos in his head.

“It sure is,” Tooru laughed as he crouched down next to him.

It was the most beautiful sound Hajime ever heard.

He smiled. “Tooru – Hey, I’ve been thinking – our universities aren’t too far away from each other. Maybe we could get a place together – somewhere in the middle.”

820 million kilometers away, the on board astrophysicist of the brand spanking new intergalactic spaceship of a species originating from the Andromeda Galaxy tried to disguise their distress as their captain furiously gnashed two rows of their teeth together.

“This is a disaster,” they spat, every scale on their body raising in irritation. “Do you have any idea the repercussions we could face if they find out about this back home? We need to take immediate inventory and check the logs to see who had recent access to the Kiandriev-Orso Oscillator.”

The poor astrophysicist heartily agreed while wishing they’d refused the last minute invitation to join the field team in their data collection on the brief trip to planet PNF-404 all that time ago. They felt bad for accidentally tripping that poor earthling – it looked so upset about the rudimentary device it broke in the fall. The device was embarrassingly simple, fixing it was a cinch – and so what if they gave it a little upgrade? It was only supposed to improve reception and invalidate any future need for charging the battery.

Was it really their fault they forgot to disable the entropic stabilizer? It was supposed to be a defunct model, anyhow. They’d been using the stupid thing as a toothpick for ages.

“I suppose we should be thankful that nothing of any magnitude happened while the device was active, but whoever was responsible for this will be located. I’m leaving the investigation in your hands, considering your expertise and familiarity with the device and who might have accessed it. Don’t fail me.” The Captain bristled as they stormed away.

“Ugh. I don’t know why the Captain’s making such a big deal about it,” a passerby said to their friend. “It's not like we remember it.”

“Whoever left it there remembers. Besides, leaving behind technology on underdeveloped planets is a capital offense – You know that.”

“Well, I sure hope that guy gets fired.”

“Seriously.”

When they looked at them, the astrophysicist nervously added in, “Indeed, y-yes. What an imbecile.”