That day was just like any other.
Saturday. A sunny saturday.
But for Aoba Johsai third years, it was their last chance for the Nationals. Their last semifinals in highschool, against Karasuno.
Oikawa's serves, for he had stayed in the gymnasium all night, practicing until his palms felt like touching an ember, were more precise than ever. But Karasuno's captain also proved himself, picking up few of those serves.
It all went well until third, last set.
Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's eyes would meet sometimes, carrying unspoken words between them.
They both felt the pressure and lust for victory. But they had to remain calm and focused, and those looks helped both of them to find their focuses.
In the trickiest times Oikawa's tosses would go to Iwaizumi. All his trust lied on Iwaizumi.
Players on both sides of the net were panting for air, sweat dripping from their foreheads, but neither of them even thought of backing down. They all had their eyes wide open, awareness on point.
Karasuno was now on their match point.
His eyes cathched the glipse of ball falling down, outside the court.
Withouth a second thought, his insticts worked for him.
Talent is something you make bloom, instict is something you polish.
Without a word he pointed his finger at Iwaizumi, and he understood. He was his last resort, his rock, his ace.
Oikawa's fingers found the ball in mid air and directed it back at the court, at Iwaizumi, whose feet were already in a position to jump.
Oikawa crashed his back on the chairs, pain shooting through his spine, but he immediately stood up, helping himself with his hands.
He clenched his teeth when his injured knee hit the floor, but in that moment it didn't matter.
All that mattered was Iwaizumi who just slammed the ball down at the opponent's side.
And it got received.
It came back.
And back.
And back.
Then it all happened in a blink of an eye.
He caught a glimpse of Tobio-chan tossing the ball from the back of the court, and a small, orange haired figure appeared in the mid air, slamming the ball like a crow that attacks it's victim.
He knew where Shrimpy aimed. He saw it, he knew and still, he failed to receive it.
His eyes met Iwaizumi's, and those words lingered between them.
We lost.
Later on, from a day that they lost their last chance for the Nationals, that Saturday became a day when Oikawa saw Iwaizumi cry for the first time in his life.
