you and tooru had known each other since you were born. being hajime's younger sister made it the default setting for you to always cheer on the sidelines of their volleyball matches. it didn't occur to him that somewhere along your first year in high school, he'd gone completely whipped the second he saw you standing proudly on the benches, watching seijoh play.

maybe it was about the way you looked so different, so mature now, that made him nervously glance at the benches every time. your hair, once a familiar childish tangle, now framed a face that held a quiet confidence. your eyes, always bright, seemed to hold a deeper understanding. he knew better than to cross that line, though. he knew iwa wasn't exactly fond of the idea of his best friend, the notorious flirty setter, getting too close to his little sister.

hajime knew his best friend. he knew the whiny, flirty, and stubbornly dramatic man tooru was. he didn't want that for you — well, not yet, anyway. he wanted someone steady, someone honest, and tooru, at that point, was a mix of self-indulgence and ambition.

over time, tooru had instinctively created a distance, a self-imposed barrier to protect a burgeoning feeling he couldn't quite name. he was pining silently, every glance, every lingering smile, every casual touch screaming "more than friends" to anyone who cared to notice. he kept a respectable distance, for he knew if he did anything stupid, anything that felt like a betrayal, he wouldn't just lose you, but also his best friend, his anchor.

and over time, despite the unspoken boundaries, you'd grown closer, fonder of each other. the casual conversations lengthened, the inside jokes multiplied, and a comfortable silence settled between you that was deeper than any loud laughter. hajime, ever watchful, didn't want to be that kind of brother who would control his sister's choices, but he saw the way tooru looked at you, a possessiveness he’d never seen directed at anyone else, and it was a look that both reassured and terrified him.

your relationship somehow grew a little more, a delicate dance around the unspoken feelings, never quite crossing the line between friends or something more. and over time, hajime would just stare, observing tooru's unusual sincerity when it came to you. maybe, he’d come to realize that oikawa really did change for you. he’d actually fallen in love with you, and it scared him a little less, and maybe, it started to scare him because it felt right.

after he went to argentina to pursue his career, the distance became a tangible ache. you'd been stalking his socials for a while, every post, every photo a breadcrumb leading back to a person you suddenly realized you missed with an intensity that surprised you. it felt like a part of you was missing — and, tooru couldn't help but realize that as well, the vibrant colors of argentina muted by the absence of your presence.

tooru convinced himself that his tiny crush on you was a fleeting romance, a dumb high school crush, a youthful infatuation he'd outgrow. and yet, after he returned home, the familiar air of japan felt different, charged with a renewed anticipation. he felt his heart thumping the same way it did all those years ago, a relentless drumbeat that refused to be ignored.

and now, well, he's here. the after-party for the alumni game had dwindled, leaving a comfortable quiet in its wake. he was holding your wrist, his thumb gently playing with the delicate silver chain of the bracelet you're wearing — the one he'd given you because it reminded him of you when he was away.

the silence of the after-party was evident, a hushed understanding settling between you. the way he's holding onto you made him realize that he doesn't want this to end. he still wants this. he still wants you.

"i just... haven't told you how nice you looked today," he murmured quietly, the words a gentle caress in the quiet space between you. it was a simple statement, yet it carried the weight of years of unspoken admiration, a tentative step across the line he’d so carefully avoided.