Karasuno Fight {One Shot Book}

I Know You, Better Than You Know You

Welp. Someone pulled this out of my ass. Enjoy y'all.

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Iwaizumi Hajime wasn't really one to brag (that was Sugawara's job), but he liked to consider himself an expert when it came to any and all things that were related to one Oikawa Tooru.

Three years ago, back when he was still eleven years old and learning the ins and outs of being a second in command to a gang leader at such a young age, he would have easily dismissed someone like Oikawa. He didn't see the point in respecting a person who, while older and obviously at least somewhat affiliated with gang life, didn't fully understand how kids like Iwaizumi had to live.

But, after (unwillingly) working with and being around him so much, Iwaizumi had come to understand a lot about him. Oikawa was similar to Sugawara. Cold and powerful and dangerous. But he also wasn't like him at all. He was young and beautiful and hurt.

Iwaizumi didn't know much about Oikawa's past, and if he was honest with himself didn't care too much to bother asking. But there were times were he didn't need to, and he ended up learning things on his own. The way his eyes practically dissected everything he looked at, always watching. The way he fiercely wielded his authority over his servants. The way he acted around Iwaizumi, completely different than the way he acted with anyone else.

Oikawa had his vulnerabilities. His darker moments. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and thrashing, his body soaked with sweat and his chest heaving. Iwaizumi, always laying not far from him, would wake up as well. He'd notice the tears in Oikawa's eyes, but pretend not to notice. Oikawa pretended to not notice him noticing. He'd simply reach out and grasp his hand, grunting softly, voice raspy with sleep. "Hey, c'mon. You're safe here."

Oikawa would stare at Sugawara's sleeping form on the other side of room, his eyes blank. Iwaizumi would pull gently on his wrist, and eventually he would finally lay back down, his head resting lightly on Iwaizumi's chest. Those nights, his sleep would be more peaceful. Iwaizumi's would be as well.

Sugawara had pulled him aside one day, smiled at him (one of his genuine smiles, not the grins and smirks he uses so often), and patted his head like he was still seven years old. "You mean something to him, y'know, kid." He'd said simply. "Something that he didn't think he would ever have again."

Iwaizumi had blushed then, flustered by his leader's words. "Shut the fuck up, Sugawara." He had said back.

Sugawara just laughed at him in response.

He didn't "mean" anything to anybody, otherwise a lot of the things and people that had come and go in his life would have stayed. Besides, Oikawa could take care of himself. Only seventeen and commanding an entire army of grown men to his bidding with a flick of his wrist.

But, he supposed quietly and to himself, that Sugawara had some idea of how things were. Iwaizumi knew Oikawa as a brat, desperate to make trouble for others only to turn tail and run when it ended up backfiring on him. When he was given a taste of his own medicine, it had nearly broken him, but Iwaizumi had been there - had always been there - to help him pick up the shards of his former self. He was a broken mirror,  missing glass in some places, and underneath it all, was something much more raw and new. 

Under all that guarded and reflective glass, he was a kid. Just a seventeen year old struggling with an overwhelming pain. And Iwaizumi was no stranger to pain.

Together, they started rebuilding. Together, Oikawa's missing pieces were refilled, if albeit slowly and awkwardly. Iwaizumi's mind was put more at ease, no longer kept moving with stress that no fourteen year old should experience.

Maybe Sugawara was right. Maybe he was something to Oikawa, maybe Oikawa was something to him as well. But Iwaizumi knew one thing for certain, through thick and thin, he'd always be by Oikawa's side. And maybe, just maybe, Oikawa would be by his too.