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It begins with his heart.
Small at first, with patters that become louder and louder with each passing moment. Then they grow, flowering into his chest with violent resolution. Louder and louder, Oikawa’s heart sinks into his stomach as the motion grows and takes a hold of him.
His head is next. It pounds with empathy for his torso – ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. His temples pulse and the backs of his eyes sharpen.
He doesn’t hear the thoughts before this. He always feels it first.
Words of doubt creep up on him, slinking into his head without a trace. Oikawa never heard them coming, until they are whispering sensually in his ear; until they thoughts tempt him with the worries he never wants to surface.
You.
It’s you.
It’s always been you.
Even in the dark of his bedroom, Oikawa shut his eyes from the light escaping through his curtains. The pressure in his head was becoming unstoppable. The tiny sliver at the bottom piercing the ache in the front of his head and stabbed through to the beat of his heart. It moved in, out, in, out, following the beat as it threatened to tear through his skin.
The harder Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, the louder the taunts became. They knew something he didn’t – had a power that he didn’t know how to escape from as the words he has trained himself not to think start to ink themselves back into his mind.
Let down.
Unwanted.
Failure.
Oikawa took a deep breath, opening his lungs in the tiny crevice of his chest, before they stopped, and he was forced to breathe out. Weird. He took another deep breath, only to have that abruptly interrupted by his thoughts.
You failed them.
Each breath became those words over and over again. The breaths became pants against his comforter, his brand-new number one jersey and captaincy cloaking him. But yet another defeat against Ushiwaka drummed into his head. It was his fault. He was the one who failed them. If only he had jumped higher, hit harder, served better, tossed better – been better – he would have succeeded.
But he was the one to let the team down.
Again.
A part of him tried to scream back at the thoughts, but his voice was drowned out by the symphony of blame and self-doubt. It had been his fault. He failed. He… was a failure.
Oikawa pulled the comforter up over his head, careful not to wake Iwaizumi with his erratic breathing. Iwaizumi always slept over after a defeat because he knew exactly what went through Oikawa’s head. Oikawa couldn’t wake him – not when he knew that Iwaizumi was feeling the same burden that Oikawa did.
But… it couldn’t be Iwa-chan’s fault. It was never his fault.
Underneath the comforter, Oikawa opened his eyes and let the tears run free. He couldn’t contain them anymore, knowing that his body was being overwhelmed by his failure. Each breath blew hot against the fabric, creating a bobbing bubble – the only sign of life. He wanted it to drown him.
Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Failure. Fail—
The comforter was ripped from Oikawa’s grasp, and the cool night air entered his lungs just as quickly. It ping-ponged in his lungs, struggling to make its way through his body to make any sense of his thoughts.
He was getting lightheaded. Failure. Why was he getting lightheaded? Failure. Why wasn’t he breathing? Failure. Why wasn’t there room? Failure.
He was vaguely aware of a voice. He couldn’t make it out over his own thoughts, but he knew it was just as familiar and just as strong. The voice couldn’t break through. It was trying very hard, Oikawa knew, and a small, logical part of himself wanted to latch onto the new voice and not let go. But the whispers had become so loud, and he had so little left in his system. His body was heavy.
“—Oikawa.”
His name. That was his name. He knew that. Oikawa tried to latch on with all his might.
“—hear me? Oik—”
Hands. Hands on his shoulders. Hands he knows. Hands he has felt—
Oikawa gasped, “Iwa-chan—”
“I’m here. I’m here.” Iwaizumi’s voice was firm. Solid. Like it always is. It never strayed – just as Iwa-chan never strayed – and Oikawa could feel the pain behind his eyes subsiding. Oikawa reached towards Iwaizumi – his hands were shaking, when had they started shaking? – and placed a palm over Iwaizumi’s heart. The bare skin was warm to the touch, complementing the cold wash that had taken over Oikawa’s body. It gave him a shock, stopping the rhythm of his breathing for one moment.
“Oikawa, I need you to breathe with me.”
Oikawa’s palm lifted with Iwaizumi’s first deep breath. Oikawa followed him dutifully, his chest battling against the beating of his heart to follow in Iwa-chan’s steps. That’s all he had to do. Focus on Iwa-chan. Focus on Iwa-chan and it would get better.
Oikawa opened his eyes, and even though he lagged he could see Iwaizumi’s encouragement without focus. Iwaizumi leaned towards Oikawa, his hands firmly placed on his shoulders and chest moving slowly, evenly, against Oikawa’s palm.
“That’s it, Oikawa. Breathe with me.”
Each breathe with Iwaizumi blocked out the whisper. It was still there, of course, fighting against the warmth and the comfort of Iwaizumi. With Iwa-chan, I am okay. With Iwa-chan, I am okay.
Oikawa’s pants for air subsided, and with them his heart shrunk back into place. It slowed, and slowed, until the only feeling between the two was the unison of their hearts. Oikawa met Iwaizumi’s gaze, finding it already fixated on him.
“You know you’re brilliant, right?”
A weak smile crossed Oikawa’s face. His voice was soft. “Is that a compliment I hear, Iwa-chan?”
Iwaizumi frowned, leaning back from Oikawa’s touch. “You must be feeling better if you’re being a brat again.”
“Iwa-chan—” Oikawa exclaimed with urgency, desperate to maintain the warmth and singularity between them. He moved closer to Iwaizumi, but hesitated inches away. Iwaizumi sighed.
“What do you need, Shittykawa?”
“Must you be mean in my time of need?” Oikawa reached forward for Iwaizumi, grabbing his right arm and pulling him against himself. Oikawa’s pyjama shirt tickled against Iwaizumi’s skin, making him shudder. Oikawa managed a grin, wrapping Iwaizumi in a full hug and dragging Iwaizumi down next to him.
Iwaizumi went willingly, allowing Oikawa to soak up his warmth. Oikawa had always done this, ever since they were kids. He would coil himself around Iwaizumi like a snake, knowing there would be absolutely nothing Iwaizumi could do to stop him. So, Iwaizumi let him, smelling the lavender from Oikawa’s shampoo as Oikawa’s head found its way into the crick of his neck.
“Stay with me?” Oikawa whispered. And Iwaizumi was never one to say no to Oikawa.
“I’m not going anywhere.”