Haikyuu Oneshots!

Aoba Johsai - Assembly of the Unforgotten but Misunderstood

(A/N: Warning for Major Character Death except... like... the death has already happened. [Character Name Redacted] is already dead before this whole thing starts, so.)

Trigger Warnings: Falling from a roof, major character death

Oikawa isn't at assembly the next morning. Nobody blames him.

Well, Kyoutani does, but that's only because he hasn't heard what's happened yet. He learns quickly though, through down-turned lips and empty gazes, trembling fingers and tears. Yahaba kisses him on the mouth and begs him to shut up before he insults anybody else with his ignorance.

Everybody else is required to attend assembly. Even if they skip the rest of the day -the school doesn't care where they go after this- they have to attend this one assembly. The school doesn't even care if they don't turn up for assembly the subsequent days, so long as they're here for this one. 

This is a memorial service, after all. 

A memorial service for someone who was loved. Someone who was beautiful and brilliant and brave and every other adjective under the god damned sun. And now he's dead, too. Dead and broken, and now you can use even more adjectives to describe him. 

Students pile out into the sports field, lining up in neat rows, nerves jittering. A good half of them have tears streaming down their faces. The other, less bothered ones, are just happy to get out of English. They don't care about the dead boy. 

The people who don't care are mostly first years. First years who didn't get a chance to get to know the dead boy. Who didn't get a chance to become his friend. He befriended everyone, the dead boy. He was always happiest around friends, and he had so many of them. There were a few he kept closest to him, though. And those were the ones that everyone knew he loved the most. 

The principal clears his throat and everyone falls into a hushed silence that's full of whispers and quiet sobs. He taps his mic, even though it's clear it's already working. He doesn't say anything for a long moment, as if wondering how to start. 

He stands on a makeshift podium, made from half a stage that the football girls dragged out here for this purpose. There are two deep grooves in the grass leading up to it where it ;ies. A couple other teachers stand with him, clutching handkerchiefs to their eyes. Some of them are actually crying. But not many. There's also a row of empty chairs to the left of the podium, on the grass, the thin metal legs sinking into the ground. 

A couple of students come and fill the seats eventually. They're all crying, or their faces bear the tell-tale red cheeks and tear stains and wobbling lips. The principal waits for them to sit down and get comfortable, either on their own chairs or in each other's arms, before he starts to talk. 

"You may sit," he begins, gesturing widely towards the fidgeting crowd. There's a loud sigh of relief and everybody sits down, crossing their legs on the faintly damp grass. 

"As you likely all know already, last night a beloved student of ours had a tragic accident befall him. His name was Iwaizumi Hajime, and he was a trusted member of the volleyball club here. He was an A-star student and was valued greatly in our community, and he will be missed even more." He halts for a breath, glancing over at the impassive students on the chairs. He swallows and continues. "Last night, he slipped from the roof of one of the sports buildings here, while retrieving lost footballs from the roof. By the time the staff around him had realized he was falling, it was too late."

A murmur runs through the crowd. More people are crying now, the sound growing clearer as everyone else grows quieter, silenced with the cloak of death hanging so heavily over them.