Chapter Text
Iwaizumi Hajime had a problem.
Tuesday was supposed to be the most inconsequential day of the week. It just sort of exists – the day after the dreaded Monday, the day before the not so bad Wednesday. Nothing happens on Tuesday. Nobody looked forward to Tuesday. Nobody cared about Tuesday.
But Hajime was fucking stuck in it.
He passed it off as a case of very unsettling deja vu at first. He was tired and between school, upcoming exams, and volleyball – the days had a tendency to run together. He’d just make sure to get a few extra hours of sleep and everything would be fine. Everything would be perfectly normal. There was no possible way he’d just lived through the same day twice. That was ridiculous.
When he woke up on Tuesday for the third time, he squashed the sense of urgency to the back of his brain, replacing it with a denial so deep he didn’t even acknowledge the passage of time as he mechanically emulated himself from the previous days. He ignored Oikawa’s mutterings of body snatchers and Hanamaki playing the twilight zone theme song on his phone at random intervals, almost glad because that was different. He was definitely just sleep deprived. He’d go to sleep even earlier this time and it would be Wednesday and –
His eyes snapped open precisely three seconds before his phone alarm screamed bloody murder in his ear, some shitty pop song Oikawa downloaded on his phone and Hajime accepted to be annoying enough to force him out of bed in the morning (if only to hate the world he lived in).
Besides, nothing said good morning like the cultivated instinct to slap pop idols (and Oikawa) in the face. He settled for slapping his phone across the room instead after confirming that, yes, it was Tuesday. Again.
What the fuck, Tuesday? Hajime’s brain spat as he groaned and covered his face with an arm.
“This is Oikawa’s fault,” he determined after cycling through the cause of everything that has ever gone wrong in his life. They all had a very common element.
He narrowed his eyes out his window towards the house directly across the street where a single window was lit amidst the predawn darkness. A single window withholding the presence of the most insufferable living creature to ever inhabit the planet Earth.
Oikawa Tooru.
Hajime spent a solid five minutes mentally projecting death threats in the window’s direction until the second alarm he always forgot about howled at him to get the fuck out of bed and flush his phone down the toilet and systematically take down the J-pop industry for all the pain and suffering he has endured.
Iwaizumi Hajime was not a morning person. He was most certainly not a Tuesday morning person.
He dragged himself over to his discarded phone, sheets still wrapped around his body, and ended his misery. Some of it, anyways. Oikawa’s face winked up at him from the screen where it alerted him of thirteen unread messages.
All selfies.
“Motherfuckin’ Tuesday.”
“Good morning, Iwa-chan!” Shittykawa greeted, bouncing up on his toes and looking far too awake (far too alive) for Hajime’s liking. He was always like that after nights he couldn’t sleep. Hajime suspected he replaced his blood with caffeine to manage it. He grunted as he shuffled out of his front door and past the other human being he’s somehow been coerced into naming his best friend for the entirety of his life thus far. “Wow, you're looking even more brutish than usual today! If only you’d take my advice and use that skin cream I gave you ages ago, you might be a quarter as handsome as me. Maybe. Probably not. Wishful thinking never hurt anyone, though.”
Iwaizumi was used to this sort of conversation. In fact, he was used to this specific conversation as he had heard the same words in the same tone from the same mouth in the same damned morning four times in a row now. The past three times he responded appropriately: Insult, headlock, mess up hair until Oikawa begs for forgiveness, continue onward to morning practice. But not this time, oh no.
“Ugh,” he groaned pathetically as he pushed Oikawa’s chipper face away from where it was hovering much too close to his own.
“So eloquent, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa praised. “You should stop staying up so late looking at my beautiful selfies if this is how you’re going to be in the morning.”
“I hate you so much,” Hajime said, prompting Oikawa to laugh loudly and throw an arm around his shoulders.
“You really are grumpy today,” Oikawa noted curiously as his eyes flickered across his face. Hajime grimaced and wondered (hoped) for the third day in a row if he was just going insane.
“Hey. What was that American movie we watched a few months ago with the guy that kept reliving the same day over and over after he died? With the aliens?” he asked. Predictably, Oikawa immediately went into nerd mode, brown eyes round and bright.
“The Edge of Tomorrow?” he answered eagerly.
“Yeah, that. How’d the guy get out of his time loop again?”
“Well, the ability was in his blood – so when he got a blood transfusion – ”
“A blood transfusion?” Well, that’s not happening.
“Yeah, he lost the ability that way. But then –”
“Yeah, got it, a blood transfusion. What about other movies when people relive the same day? How do they get out of it?”
Oikawa grabbed Hajime’s arm and pulled him to an abrupt halt, spinning him around to stare him down. Unease spread through Hajime’s gut as he recognized the fanatical look on his friend’s face.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said very seriously, staring deeply into Hajime’s eyes. “Do you want to have a time travel movie marathon with me?” His voice was low and the unease ran up Hajime’s spine as he recognized the tone as one of the few Oikawa used while flirting with girls.
“No way,” he replied on instinct as he spun back around and continued walking.
“But why?” Oikawa whined after a pause, scurrying forward to catch up with him. “I think its a good idea – I haven’t watched any movies in a while because of volleyball. But now that nationals have been unjustly stolen from us by ungrateful jerks –” Oikawa’s speech devolved into bitter insults as he kicked the ground beneath his feet. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.
“Who cares.”
“Rude.”
It was in English class that Hajime decided that maybe he really should care about Oikawa’s shitty sci-fi movies as he was forced to read the same frustrating passage from the same awful book for the fourth motherfucking time. Apparently the repetition helped, because the teacher actually looked marginally less disgruntled than usual as he correctly pronounced remuneration, a word he couldn’t even remember the definition of but fuck if he was going to say it wrong it one more time.
It was (finally) during lunch when the desperately lingering denial which was still happily settled on Hajime’s shoulders like a cloak of rusty nails spiked into his skin was forcibly pried off. He ignored his classmates flowing out of the room around him as he stared blankly at nothing. He dropped his head down onto his desk and allowed himself a moment of peace.
That was a lie.
Iwaizumi Hajime panicked, the cool laminated wood pressed against his skin doing nothing to calm him as he nearly ripped the hair from his skull, wondering why this was happening to him.
Hajime was a simple man. He liked volleyball and good food. He occasionally even liked his friends. He had zero interest in his life becoming the plot to one of Oikawa’s bad movies. It took him several minutes of internal turmoil before he noticed that he had company.
“And then, Makki, and then – long story short, when I was confidently certain we were halfway to being married I realized that was stupid because I didn’t even know her name.”
Hajime pulled his face off of the desk it was trying to meld with. Hanamaki and Matsukawa sat across from him, identical degrees of amusement splattered across their faces. A jab from his left had him turning his head to catch a view of Oikawa side-eying him, an annoying quirk to his lips.
“Do you know what happened then, Iwa-chan?” he asked, giving Hajime his full attention while knowing full well that he’d barely heard a word of the story.
But Hajime was prepared.
“You found out her surname was Ushijima, nearly had a heart attack, threw yourself into traffic where you almost got run over by a bicycler who turned out to be Hinata Shoyou from Karasuno where you spent half an hour accusing him of an assassination attempt directed by Kageyama. Then Kageyama showed up and followed you around interrogating you about your serving technique until you lost him in a sporting goods store by knocking over a shelf of tennis balls,” Iwaizumi summarized. The full story was practically soldered into his brain by this point.
There were very few moments in Hajime’s life when he’s experienced Oikawa at a loss for words and even fewer times when he was the reason behind it. He almost gloated at the dumbfounded look on his friend’s face, but was still too caught up in the aftermath of his minor breakdown to muster it.
He’d remember to cherish the moment later.
“Well,” Matsukawa snickered, not even phased that Iwaizumi already knew what happened. “It could be worse. You could have run into Ushiwaka himself right after.”
Oikawa snapped his head back to Matsukawa, “You don’t have to bring up worse nightmare scenarios, Mattsun.”
“Nevertheless, I will. Probably just because I’m an asshole.”
“You’re just being honest,” Hanamaki reasoned, patting Matsukawa on the back. “Really though, why are all these lovely girls lining up to go out with you when you don’t even bother to learn their name until the end of your date? How uncouth of you.”
“I think they want to date him solely for the opportunity of dumping him,” Hajime responded purely on principle, letting his face fall back onto the desk.
“So mean, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined. “It wasn’t a date in the first place; we were just two attractive strangers chatting to pass the time – until she revealed her true nature. Ushiwaka-chan surely sent her to spy on me to figure out what university I’m going to so he can make sure to go to a rival university and judge me for another four years.”
“Ah yes, I’m sure he always makes important life decisions based on what you do,” Matsukawa said.
“He exists to aggravate me; so yes, obviously,” Oikawa complained, pouting at the two snickering at him. He crossed his arms while redirecting a suspicious stare at Hajime. “And Iwa-chan, I know for a fact I didn’t tell you that story yet. Were you following me around after school yesterday? Are you my stalker, Iwa-chan?”
“You really must be full of yourself if you think I’d waste my free time following you around,” he replied, reaching over to give Oikawa a hard pinch on the arm.
Ignoring his captain’s over dramatic proclamations of pain Matsukawa asked, “Besides, weren’t you with Kindaichi and Kunimi after school yesterday, Iwaizumi?”
“Wait. You ditched me to hang out with the first years?”
Hajime ignored Oikawa as he replied. “Yesterday,” he recited dryly. “Yeah, yesterday they asked me during lunch to practice with them after school. They both wanted some extra tips on spiking.”
“Wait, wait – hold on. They hog you enough on practice days, they shouldn’t be allowed to steal you on off days too!”
“Wow, you sound more upset about this than you did about Iwaizumi stalking you,” Hanamaki said.
“He actually sounded kind of excited about Iwaizumi stalking him,” Matsukawa said.
“I wasn’t stalking Oikawa,” Hajime denied as he pushed his face further into the crook of his arm, determined to pretend he was asleep.
“You still didn’t say how you knew what happened to me yesterday.”
“Now I think Oikawa is upset that you’re not stalking him.”
“Why are you guys bothering me in my classroom anyways?” Hajime complained, suddenly resigned to the fact that no one was going to shut up.
“The captain had some great story to tell all of us. We’re still waiting,” Matsukawa said as Oikawa squawked indignantly.
“I’m sorry that Iwa-chan’s stalking tendencies ruined my re-dramatization.”
“Well, anyways – I’m really just here because I wanted a rematch,” Hanamaki said as he set his arm out on the desk and stared expectantly. Matsukawa knocked his arm off the table.
“I know you want to beat Iwaizumi at least once at arm wrestling, but going after him when he looks like death warmed over is pretty lame. You should wait until the light is completely gone from his eye – he’ll be no match for you then. Probably just a few more minutes at this rate,” he advised. Hanamaki shrugged, unconcerned.
“Stalker-chan, did you stalk me yourself or are you in cahoots with Ushiwaka-chan and got the info from someone else?” Oikawa interrogated before the other two could completely redirect the conversation.
“Goodbye,” Hajime said as he calmly stood up and headed for the door. He heard chairs scraping the ground behind him as he left.
“Wait, Iwa-chan!”
“It’s your own fault, Captain. Your narcissism is getting a little ahead of itself today,” Hajime heard Hanamaki tease as they followed him out into the hall.
“Excuse you – the world is lucky someone as attractive as me exists in it. The three of you should feel blessed for the opportunity to have basked in my presence for so many years,” Oikawa proclaimed. Hajime’s headache was quickly evolving into a migraine. He walked faster.
“My statement still stands,” Hanamaki affirmed.
He heard someone break into a jog as he turned the corner. Matsukawa caught up and slowed to match Hajime’s pace.
“All jokes aside – you feeling alright? You were a bit out of it at practice this morning too,” he asked.
Hajime let out a frustrated breath and shot him a fleeting glance. “I’m losing my mind.”
“Well, you’ve been best friends with Oikawa your entire life. It was bound to happen eventually.”
“I heard that, Mattsun,” Oikawa grumbled from a few paces behind. “But Iwa-chan, maybe you should sit out at practice today.”
“Not going.”
“What?” Oikawa asked, a note of urgency straining his voice. Hajime suddenly had a face full of Oikawa and a hand against his forehead. He scowled, but let Oikawa fuss. “Do you have the flu? Have you been sleeping enough? Did our greedy kouhais work you to exhaustion? Did you overdose on my selfies? Have you fallen in love recently? If you fell in love with one of my selfies – that’s perfectly normal, but I’d recommend you move onto the real thing and join my fan club.”
Hanamaki let out a low whistle. “Wow, the captain is at 150% percent today.”
“Must have stolen that extra 50% from Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa continued.
“And I’m 200% out of here.” Hajime concluded, slapping Oikawa’s hand away and continuing his escape. As he rounded another corner to take the stairwell down, he was blocked by Kindaichi and Kunimi who appeared to be in the midst of an argument. He sighed.
“Eep,” Kindaichi squeaked. Kunimi stood next to him, the urge to roll his eyes as clear as day on his uncharacteristically expressive face. Iwaizumi understood that look. He lived that look. “I-Iwazuimi-san!” Kindaichi continued to squeak, face turning a concerning shade of puce.
“Oh no, nuh uh – Not this time, my dear first years,” Oikawa said as he rounded the corner, placing himself in front of Hajime. “Iwa-chan’s really sick and he can’t help either of you at practice today. So don’t even ask!” Kindaichi opened his mouth. “NOPE. No asking, Kindaichi-kun! He’s going to sit on the sidelines and rest until I can walk him home and make sure he doesn’t die a sad, lonely death without me.”
“What the hell, Crappykawa?” Hajime boxed Oikawa’s ears and pulled him back into a choke hold, his patience beyond expended. “Did you inject pure sugar into your veins this morning? You’ve graduated from annoying to infuriating.”
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa croaked, “Injecting sugar straight into my veins would defeat the purpose of sugar. But I might have eaten a few milk breads for breakfast. And lunch.”
“You’re disgusting,” Hajime deadpanned. “And yeah – Sorry, Kindaichi – Kunimi. I’m not planning on making it to practice today, but I’ll work with you another time.” He started down the stairs, dragging Oikawa along with him. Despite the fact that his head was still locked tight in the crook of Iwaizumi’s arm with his ass sticking out behind him as they shuffled along, Oikawa made a smug face and a peace sign as they passed the duo.
“Feel better soon, Iwaizumi-san! Bye Oikawa-san!” Kindaichi practically shouted while still managing to sound nervous for whatever reason. Kindaichi has always been a little weird around them – not in a bad way. Not anything like Oikawa at least.
Hajime briefly wondered why those two were on the third year’s floor. He hadn’t run into them during lunch on this terrible day before, always sticking to the routine of meeting up with Oikawa in the hall and being subjected to his story of inevitable betrayal and suffering until the bell rang.
His train of thought was derailed as Oikawa tripped and nearly brought the both of them tumbling down the flight of steps. They grappled onto each other, trying to regain some semblance of balance as they teetered perilously, but Oikawa put too much weight on Hajime and knocked them both backwards in a tangle of limbs – fortunately up the steps. Hajime took a minute to catch his breath as his heart hammered in his chest.
Yeah, they were athletes alright. Graceful as fuck.
I wonder if I’d still be stuck in a time loop if I snapped my neck and died. Maybe I already died and this is hell, Hajime thought. At least all these years with this idiot prepared me for it.
“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa breathed. He was in a similar state collapsed on top of Hajime, head pillowed against his chest. A sharp wave of concern unwittingly lashed through Hajime. It was an awkward fall – If Oikawa twisted his knee or – “Your hand is on my butt.”
Hajime proceeded to make a sound he’d deny until his dying day as he shoved him off and hurriedly sat up, wincing as the steps dug into his back.
“Dammit, Oikawa.”
“What? I’m not the one groping people in stairwells.”
Hajime groaned as Oikawa laughed. His laugh was light and lacked the vindictive edge that often accompanied it, forcing an involuntary smile to crack open on Hajime’s face.
“Shut up, dumbass,” he said, kicking Oikawa’s foot. He was just glad the stairwell was empty and that Kindaichi and Kunimi apparently seemed to be staying up on the third floor with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He tried to rub the smile off of his face while Oikawa got whatever out of his system.
He kicked Oikawa’s foot with more force.
“Pfft, Iwa-chan,” he tried to say as he broke out into another fit of laughter. Hajime gave up hiding his grin and looked away.
“Shut up, it’s really not that funny.”
Oikawa raised a hand as he wheezed, waving him off. Iwaizumi dropped his face into hands.
“So – haha, Iwa-chan,” he tried again. “Are you really going to skip practice today?”
Hajime propped his chin on a hand and hummed. “Yeah. I was shit already at morning practice; don’t need to embarrass myself again.” But it would be more accurate to say he needed a better location for a more thorough mental breakdown. Namely his room. Under every blanket and pillow he owned.
“I guess I can forgive you this time, since you were giving extra lessons on our day off.”
“Get over it.”
“We were supposed to get ramen, Iwa-chan. I’m very offended.”
Hajime ignored him and kicked Oikawa’s foot one more time before standing up. “Come on, I need something to eat before lunch ends.”
“I might have some extra milk bread –“
“No.”
Oikawa Tooru has never missed a single day of practice voluntarily. If he was a computer program, volleyball would be the first objective in his priority queue. Probably second and third as well, because there was no chance in hell his code would be a well written one, let alone make a lick of sense.
So needless to say, Hajime was thrown for a loop as Oikawa followed him off campus with barely a mournful gaze in the direction of the gym.
He didn’t say anything, but Oikawa must have been able to sense the question looming in the space between them as he caught Hajime’s eye and forced himself to stand up straight.
“I – I feel like such a rebel,” Oikawa said with something Hajime would reluctantly describe as pride.
“Seriously? Go to practice, moron.”
“Hmm, they need to get used to the two of us not being there anyways. Yahaba has been getting a little too desperate for my advice lately. Its been making me feel like there’s some giant timer ticking away over my head.”
“There is one. Its called graduation,” Hajime informed.
Oikawa crossed his arms and bit his lip. “No need to remind me. If only we could just relive the entire year; press a reset button – we’d leave Karasuno and Shiratorizawa in pieces.”
Hajime cringed at the wording, his own problems ringing in his head. Knowing better than to follow up on that statement, he slapped Oikawa’s back, sending him stumbling forward.
“Time to look ahead, Shittykawa. You’re going to have an entirely new host of teams to shred to pieces pretty soon.”
“Your team included?”
“Shut up.”
“You know, it’s not too late for you to switch universities,” Oikawa practically sang. Hajime aggressively ruffled the laughing Oikawa’s hair. His victim managed to escape, but didn’t continue the conversation.
“I’d better not get any ‘you should have come to Tokyo’ messages when we move. I’ll find Ushijima and give him so much blackmail material, you’ll be at his beck and call for the rest of your life.”
“As if I have anything I’m ashamed of,” Oikawa said as he flaunted his signature smile and ran a hand through his over-styled hair. A few girls giggled as they passed by and any sympathy Hajime might have had for Oikawa disappeared as he winked and blew a kiss to them.
“Last Sunday on the train.”
Oikawa cringed and grabbed Hajime’s shoulders. “You were involved too! You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’d take myself out if it meant dragging you down with me.”
“The worst! You’re the worst, Iwa-chan!”
“I guess that’s why you’re walking me home so I don’t die a sad, lonely death.”
“You know me well,” Oikawa said, dropping the theatrics as he grabbed Hajime’s wrist, swinging their arms as they walked. It was something he used to do all the time when they were kids and Hajime really just didn’t have the energy to stop him anymore. “So,” Oikawa started, peering at him with amused suspicion. “What are you so stressed out about today?”
He debated giving some bullshit answer, knowing Oikawa wasn’t one to push a subject unless he was genuinely trying to be an ass, but quite frankly Hajime was at a loss and Oikawa was his best friend. Somehow. Maybe he should have seen the signs of mental instability much sooner.
“I’ve been living the same day over and over,” he said, scowling at his own words, still unable to accept the absurdity of them. Oikawa remained quiet for a moment, breaking his gaze to stare out ahead of them all the while swinging their arms like the overgrown toddler he was.
“Well, that’s school for you, Iwa-chan. Let’s go do something exciting to make up for it!”
“No, I mean I’ve been living the same day over and over. This day. Tuesday. Today makes it the fourth time I’ve woken up on the same exact day,” Hajime reiterated.
Oikawa stopped swinging their arms, but tightened his grip as he whipped his head to stare at Hajime’s pinched expression. A faint smile tried to work its way onto his lips but it dissipated the longer he watched Hajime.
“That’s -”
“That’s how I knew what happened to you on Monday after school. I’ve heard that story during lunch three times,” Hajime interrupted, feeling stupider with every word. He clenched his teeth and used his free hand to cover his face.
It was a silent and mortifying moment later when Oikawa finally said something. “...So you weren’t stalking me?”
Hajime yanked his hand out of Oikawa’s grip where it was awkwardly hanging between them and stormed off in the opposite direction.
“Wait! Wait, I believe you. Hold on a second,” Oikawa shouted, resting a hand on his back as he caught up. “Iwa-chan.”
“Don’t humor me, Assikawa. I’m just going fucking insane. I don’t even believe me.”
“Really though, I believe you,” Oikawa tried again, forcing Hajime to look at him. His face was oddly serious for a non-volleyball situation, but his eyes were goddamn huge and practically gleaming. “Iwa-chan, I can tell when you’re lying or joking around and – and you’re not. So you’re either a time traveler or nuts, and you know what I’d prefer to believe.”
“Wow, thanks,” Hajime muttered sarcastically as he frowned at the sidewalk. His scowl deepened as he looked up to find Oikawa staring at him like he was turning into a xenomorph right in front of him. Only Oikawa would be happy about that. “So what do I do?” he asked, still unsure if Oikawa actually believed him, but at a loss himself.
“What do you do? What do you mean what do you do? You can do anything, Iwa-chan! The world is in your hands – you can do anything you want with no consequences, but you’ve been what? Going to school everyday? How boring. This is a once in a – a – a quintillion lifetimes opportunity! Why would you waste time at school where you learn boring things when you could stay in bed all day and transform into a spaceship!”
“What the hell? Transform into a spaceship?”
“It’s called imagination, Iwa-chan. I know you don’t have much of it, but I’m sure even you could recognize it from time to time.”
Hajime’s eye twitched and he reached up to pinch Oikawa’s cheek.
“Ow-ow-ow, not my face! Stop it! Ouch!”
Hajime let him go, glaring as Oikawa rubbed his face, fake tears pooling beneath brown eyes as the most pathetic pout Hajime’s ever seen stole across his face. Considering how long he’s known Oikawa, it was saying something.
“But really – you’d better tell me every morning from now on! We’ve wasted so many opportunities already.”
“What do you mean we? I’m the only stuck here,” Hajime crossed his arms as Oikawa continued sulking.
“Doesn’t matter,” he waved off. “If the day’s going to reset – even if I don’t remember it, I’d still rather not waste my time at school.”
“I’d rather just get out of this completely.”
“Get out of it? Iwa-chan, don’t disappoint me. Take advantage of it! You could hone your volleyball techniques to perfection! Binge watch all of the movies and TV shows you haven’t had time for this year! Make a move on the person you like and not worry about rejection! Kick Ushiwaka in the balls and live to see another day! Eat milk bread all day everyday without worrying about getting fat or sick! Seriously, you better tell me every morning. My mom just bought almost an entire store’s worth of milk bread and I’m going to eat all of it. Today. Right now,” He reached into his pack and pulled out a roll of milk bread then and there.
“That’s – Never mind, I’m not even going to say it. I don’t care about taking advantage of this – whatever it is. I just want to live my life.”
Oikawa stood back as the excitement visibly drained from his face and he plastered on a fake smile. He raised his arms and sighed, the effect honestly kind of ruined by the bread roll in his hand.
“Right, right. Living your life – graduation’s coming up and I know you absolutely can’t wait for university. I bet this is all really inconvenient for you,” he shook his head and looked down at his feet as he took a small bite of the sugar disguised as food. Before Hajime could defend himself or figure out why the hell it bothered Oikawa so much, his friend shrugged off whatever moodiness came over him and pushed him forward. “So you want to get out of a time loop! You’ve come to the right person, Iwa-chan! According to every movie, book, and TV show ever – you have to learn a valuable life lesson and suddenly you’ll be back on track. Unless aliens are involved. Aliens aren’t involved, are they?” He looked hopeful as he asked the question.
“What? No! What do you mean, ‘a valuable life lesson’? How is that going to help me?”
“Don’t question it! It’s just how it works. If you want proof, I have a two terabyte hard drive dedicated to science fiction and horror movies – and time travel is a decent chunk of it. So how about that marathon?” Oikawa asked, a much too pleased grin stretched across his face.
Hajime shifted on his feet; very confused about the earlier shift in personality, but hesitant to confront Oikawa about it. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
“Of course, we won’t be able to get through all of it today, but when the day starts over for you, you can just pick up where we left off,” Oikawa said, blinked, and dropped into another pout. “This really isn’t fair. Why do you get to have all the fun? You don’t even like having fun. How do I get stuck in a time loop? How did you get stuck in a time loop?”
Hajime resisted the urge to inflict bodily harm. Just barely.
“I don’t know! And weren’t you just saying it didn’t matter if you don’t remember what happened as long as you kept getting to waste your day?”
“Hey! Don’t throw my words back at me! Anyways – what time does the reset happen?”
“I, uh, I don’t know. I just go to sleep and when I wake up it’s Tuesday again,” he tried to explain.
“Pay attention tonight so you can make full use of your time in the future. Ha, future. Get it?”
Hajime shot him a withering glare which was received by an innocent smile. The rest of the walk to Oikawa’s house was in a somewhat comfortable silence. Hajime knew that something was seriously bothering Oikawa and he had a hunch as to what it was – but it wasn’t something a good talk was likely to fix. Especially not when the next day wasn’t even a guaranteed thing.
“Hey,” Hajime later said while Oikawa was setting up the videos to play on his TV. “Thanks.”
I feel better knowing I’m not completely alone in this, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to. Oikawa lifted his head up from where he kept plugging the USB in backwards and beamed.
“Anything for Iwa-chan!”
For the first time since the first reset – Hajime managed to relax, smiling back at Oikawa and trying to enjoy the fact he was just going to spend the day with his best friend watching a lot of terrible movies that Hajime might have given Oikawa a lot of shit for, but actually enjoyed himself. Bad acting, bad special effects, nonsensical plot lines – it was a guilty pleasure and Oikawa knew it, the bastard. It was partially his fault.
Maybe using this stupid time loop thing to relax wasn’t such a bad idea. School has been getting to be a bit much, especially since he decided to continue volleyball with Oikawa to help their underclassmen prepare for their following year.
It was well after eleven when Oikawa shook himself out of the food coma he managed to fall into after eating another seven rolls of milk bread. He yawned and pressed his face into Hajime’s arm where he’d slumped against him on the floor hours ago, his glasses long since abandoned on the bed behind them. He blearily eyed the screen in front of them, likely only seeing a series of colorful blurs.
“Hey, Iwa-chan.”
“What?” Hajime asked as the main character in the movie tried to shoot at her crazy future self. At least he didn’t have that problem. He narrowed his eyes. Yet.
“There’s really nothing you’d want to take advantage of with daily reset superpowers?” he mumbled through the gunfire.
“I don’t know. It kind of seems like cheating, doesn’t it? Life isn’t supposed to have cheat codes,” Hajime replied. Oikawa snorted, an ugly sound which made him laugh even harder into Hajime’s arm. Hajime tried to shove him off, but Oikawa just clung on. “It’s seriously not that funny, fuck. Why? What would you do?” he asked, almost dreading the answer. Oikawa would undoubtedly do some stupid shit if it happened to him and Iwaizumi would certainly be involved in most of it – even if he wouldn’t be able to remember it in the end, it wasn’t a comforting thought.
“Are you kidding? What wouldn’t I do? The first thing would be kicking Ushiwaka in the balls, that has to happen no matter what, Iwa-chan. I’m counting on you for that – I’ll settle for living vicariously through your memory. And obviously, I’d master everything there was to master in volleyball. It’s not cheating, it’s just taking advantage of time nobody else has,” Oikawa reasoned, still slumped over on Hajime and looking like he needed another ten years of sleep.
“That’s it? I thought you’d have something better than that. That sounds like what you already try to do everyday.”
“I have a lot of plans, Iwa-chan. In fact, I have an ingenious one planned out right now. Maybe you’ll find out about it tomorrow. You’d better let me know about this right away – call me right when you wake up! But – hey, wait. Its pretty late and the day hasn’t reset yet.”
“I’m usually asleep by now,” Hajime admitted. “Maybe if I stay awake all night it won’t happen.”
Oikawa froze. Hajime could feel eyelashes brushing against the skin of his arm as Oikawa sucked in a deep breath.
“Iwa-chan, go to sleep.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’ll be really sleep deprived all day tomorrow if you don’t? Sleep is very important.”
“I think that might be the most hypocritical thing I’ve ever heard you say. And you say a lot of shit.”
Oikawa threw all of his weight on Hajime, forcing him to fall over, and proceeded to slump over him like the world’s worst blanket. Hajime thrashed a bit, trying not to make too much noise in case they woke Oikawa’s parents, but it was futile as Oikawa tightened his hold on him like a damned boa constrictor.
“Tooru, you shithead,” Oikawa snickered at the slippage of his name, “If you think this would make anyone fall asleep, you are beyond help.” When he never got a response, he sighed and craned his neck to try and get back into the movie, living blanket be damned. The woman on screen was now surrounded by dozens of dead copies of herself and Hajime had no idea what was going on. Not that the movie made any sense in the first place.
“It’s almost midnight.”
Hajime would have jumped if he wasn’t still imprisoned in Oikawa cling wrap, having been engrossed in the drama unfolding on screen. He still had no idea what was happening, but there was a lot of blood and out of sync screaming.
It was pretty great.
“Yup.”
“I feel sick.”
“Weird. It’s not like you’ve eaten your weight in sugar or anything.”
“Ugh, Iwa-chan. You’d better reset the day if only for the sake of my stomach and slim figure.”
“Now I want it to be Wednesday even more.”
Oikawa loosened his grip and rolled off of Hajime and onto his side, staring at him with betrayal in his eyes. Hajime flicked his nose, grinning when it scrunched up – all of that attractiveness and vanity Oikawa always paraded around and girls chattered about reduced to ugly lines coupled with an extraordinarily bad case of bedhead. That was the Tooru he’s always known.
“Hey,” Oikawa started, looking somewhere around Hajime’s ear. “Either way, tomorrow –“
Hajime’s eyes snapped open precisely three seconds before his phone alarm screamed bloody murder in his ear.
All of the tension lost by wasting the day with Oikawa immediately returned as his phone hollered something about wanting to hold his hand through the rings of Saturn.
“No, no, no, no – ” he chanted as he disabled the alarm and checked the date yet again.
Tuesday, thirteen unread messages from Oikawa.
“Fuck. Damn. Shit,” he continued cursing into his pillow until he ran out of breath. He was (still) really, seriously hoping he’d just been having some sort of mental breakdown due to stress and anxiety, but he couldn’t cling to that idea anymore in the slightest after the previous day. He didn’t follow the routine; he broke it and created a day he hadn’t lived before even though it was still Tuesday.
And it was Tuesday yet again.
His second alarm blared on and he nearly screamed. Three indecipherable minutes later found him trekking across the street to Oikawa’s house and using the key he was given to take care of the cats whenever the family went out of town. He hurried up the steps to Oikawa’s room and heedlessly threw the door open.
“Um. Hi?” Oikawa blinked owlishly in Hajime’s direction from in front of his computer screen, already dressed for morning practice. He had two rolls of milk bread on his desk and what seemed to be an infinite number of tabs of twitter open. Oikawa’s cat, Chiro, jumped out of his lap and escaped through the door – probably thinking there was food waiting for her. “Iwa-chan, are you a burglar now? You’re not a very good one – you’re not even wearing a shirt. How unprofessional.”
Hajime knew Oikawa wouldn’t remember the previous day, but it was the first time it really struck him. All of their jokes, Oikawa’s stupid plans for the time loop – just gone. He looked at the space in front of the TV they’d been camped out the entire afternoon and night. The dumbass who was literally just wrapped around him right there didn’t exist anymore.
He never existed.
Hajime pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes as exhaustion and a bit of something else kicked in. Of all days to be stuck in, why would it be the one he woke up feeling like he’d been hit by a train?
His hand was forcibly pried from his face as Oikawa invaded his personal space and stared him down.
“If you’re getting sick, I’ll punch you,” Oikawa said without remorse. “I think you said that to me once, it was mean Iwa-chan! Now you know what it feels like.” he said, grinning.
Hajime slapped the back of Oikawa’s head and barreled past him towards the computer and unplugged the hard drive with his movies.
“I’m watching these,” he finally said. The bewildered expression on Oikawa’s face intensified.
“Right now?”
“Yeah,” he tried plugging the hard drive into the TV, but somehow managed to put in the USB backwards seven times in a row. He glared at the plug until Oikawa gently pried it out of his hands and plugged it in himself, his expression clearly torn between concern and amusement.
“Why don’t you lie down?” Oikawa much too calmly suggested while handing him the remote and a roll of milk bread. Hajime furrowed his brow, but took them nonetheless. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Oikawa said, shooting him a disarming smile after guiding him back towards the bed and forcing him down.
The disorientation from having been very awake to suddenly be in the stages of waking up somewhere else entirely (coupled with the fact that Hajime really fucking wasn’t a morning person) suddenly hit him hard. He abandoned the bread roll on the side table and fell back on the bed, grabbed a pillow, and shoved it over his face. He was well on his way to suffocating himself when the door clicked and Oikawa plopped down next to him. He threw the pillow aside and looked at him, the all too familiar wave of deja vu hitting him as he found Oikawa lying on his side, staring back.
Despite his apparent wakefulness, there were obvious lines under Oikawa’s eyes that Hajime couldn’t help but suspect he was planning to cover up with the stick of concealer he knew was stashed in the inner pocket of his gym bag, likely ‘appropriated’ from one of his ex-girlfriends. He hadn’t noticed any lines the previous mornings.
“You didn’t get any sleep at all, did you?” Hajime asked when Oikawa didn’t say anything.
Oikawa flashed a grin and said, “You know me well.”
“You’re right. I do know you well,” Hajime responded as he sat up and turned the TV on, switching the input to play from the USB and skipping down to the folder Oikawa actually had labeled ‘TIME TRAVEL’.
“I told you last night you should have come over and joined me in my insomnia, but no, Iwa-chan is no fun at all,” Oikawa whined while sitting up and draping himself over Hajime as he scrolled through the list of movies, trying to remember what the one he hadn’t finished was called. “Why the sudden need to watch movies?” he asked into his ear.
“I’m stuck in a time loop. This is research,” Hajime bluntly stated as he took a minute to contemplate the title of one movie. Oikawa stood up from the bed and shrugged his sports jacket off as he grabbed a blanket next to his laptop. Hajime eyed him. “Morning practice is soon,” he dutifully reminded, part of him hoping Oikawa would leave so he could have time to get over his discontent that his friend really didn’t remember anything.
“What kind of friend would I be if I left you here to lose your mind without me?” Oikawa asked.
“A better one.”
“Rude, as usual. Maybe you’re not completely gone just yet. And besides – the team needs to get used to us not being around; the first and second years have been getting a little desperate for attention lately,” Oikawa said through a grimace.
“Feels like some giant timer is ticking away over our heads,” Hajime murmured tiredly. Oikawa retook his position beside Hajime and covered the both of them with the blanket.
“Exactly what I was going to say! Yahaba looks two steps away from a nervous breakdown every time the coach so much as mentions next year, and I’m pretty sure Kindaichi and Kunimi are trying to absorb your skill by osmosis. They practically live on top of you,” He complained.
“Says the guy practically in my lap.”
“Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I’d never try to absorb your skill!”
“Are you insulting me?”
“I would never.”
Hajime fell asleep somewhere in the middle of a random movie he picked after not being able to find the one he wanted. His unconscious state brought his mind to an endless hallway lined with doors, every single one bringing him to yet another hallway. He stubbornly continued forward after peering through countless doors, certain that the hallway would have to come to an end eventually. Endless hallways didn’t exist, after all.
Just like time loops.
He woke up more disoriented than ever.
With one eye cracked open he could see that the TV was still on, but the sun was streaming brightly even from behind the closed blinds, casting a heavy glare across the screen. That alone was enough to determine he’d slept for a couple hours. He yawned, unsurprised yet annoyed to find Oikawa still awake sitting against the wall, legs draped over Hajime’s as he typed away on his laptop.
“Makki and Mattsun have been texting me all morning. They’ve started coming up with some really lewd reasons why neither of us are at school today,” Oikawa said. The lighting painted heavy, intricate shadows over his face, unexpectedly reminding Hajime of the chiaroscuro paintings they’d seen at an art museum once.
“Makki and Mattsun should mind their own damned business and pay attention in class so they don’t fail and have to retake the year,” Hajime said as he sat up, squinting through the sleep in his eyes. “You should be in class too.” He’d spent enough time tutoring all three of their dumb asses in subjects they’d spent playing games on their phones in, despite the fact they were all more than intelligent enough to get above average marks on their own. He was almost sure they only did it to watch him straight up lose it when he tutored them as a group. They had a tendency to always need help in the same subject.
“Hmph. If I’m not going to practice, I’m definitely not going to class. Besides, I told my mom you were over here sick and she took one look at me and practically ordered me to stay home too.” There was some genuine offense written across his face as he spoke, as if it were some terrible crime for him to look less than flawless after being awake for a 24 hour time frame. Hajime fell back down and turned to stare at what he could of the movie. The glare was slowly moving down and off the screen. “Feeling any better now?”
“I feel even worse,” he admitted, turning his face into the pillow. “Dreamed I was stuck in an endless hallway of forever. It’s fitting, at least.”
“What’s fitting?” Oikawa asked, pushing the glasses he must have swapped his contacts out for up his nose. Hajime always thought glasses suited him well, but hell if he would ever say it aloud.
“Nothing, never mind.”
“Iwa-chaaan,” Oikawa whined, reaching over with his leg and shoving his foot in Hajime’s face.
“You’re so gross, get away from me.” He pulled the blanket over his head to block the attack.
“But you’re not telling me something! You know I hate secrets.”
“Funny, coming from the guy who tries and fails to keep things bottled up all the time,” he said from under the blanket as Oikawa’s foot mashed against his head.
“I only fail because you’re so nosy.”
“I’m not nosy.”
“Uh huh, sure,” Oikawa said, withdrawing his foot. “You know, you’re a lot less violent when you’re sick. I usually have half a dozen bruises by now. Maybe you should stay sick.”
Hajime didn’t rise to the bait as he went quiet, suddenly grimly aware that all of the banter would fade into nonexistence soon enough. It didn’t seem fair – having these moments Oikawa later wouldn’t acknowledge happening. Even if the moments were supremely stupid.
“Hey, what would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?” he asked after a minute. He could hear Oikawa’s typing slow down as he thought about it. “Something other than playing volleyball, kicking Ushiwaka, watching movies, and eating milk bread,” he belatedly tacked on.
“Ruin all my imaginary fun, why don’t you?” Oikawa grumbled. “Well I wouldn’t do what the guy on TV is doing. He’s stupid,” Hajime had no idea what the guy on TV was doing. “I’d kick Tobio-chan too,” he mumbled bitterly.
Hajime kicked Oikawa. “Stop bothering the poor kid, you already dropped a shelf of tennis balls on him.”
Oikawa stopped typing. “How did you know about that? Are you –”
“I’m not stalking you, Assikawa. I told you earlier, I’m stuck in a time loop,” Hajime was still under the blanket, but he could hear Oikawa trying not to laugh. “You believed me yesterday.” That was not a sulk, he promised himself.
“I see! So we’re researching how to get you out of the time loop, right?” Oikawa presumed, humoring him.
“I don’t think the movies are really helping. The horror ones are the best, but I don’t think I’m going to be going insane and on a murdering spree anytime soon,” he paused, “though I guess the going insane part is still debatable.”
“I’d learn to draw,” Oikawa said after a moment.
“You’re terrible at art.”
“I know, Iwa-chan. That’s why I’d learn! I mean volleyball is definitely priority, but there’s nothing wrong with developing other fun skills if I’m going to have all the time in the world. And being stuck in a time loop would give me all the time in the world.”
“You’d be fine with that? What if the next day never came? You’d be getting better at stuff for nothing.”
“There’s always a way out of time loops!”
“Learning a valuable life lesson?” Hajime hazarded blandly.
Oikawa nodded, lifting his glasses to rub his eyes which were more than a little bloodshot. “Unless aliens are involved. Besides, if I got stuck in a time loop, at least you’d be there everyday! I’d get the both of us into so much trouble, Iwa-chan.”
“I hate you.”
“I know your hatred means love. You’re making me blush.”
“I wouldn’t remember, you know. All the shit you would get us into – the next day would be like it never happened. You’d remember, but the entire world around you would be a constant reminder that it wasn’t real. What’s the point of making memories if no one shares them with you?” Hajime asked, voicing his thoughts. Oikawa stayed quiet for a suspiciously long moment. Hajime turned to look at him, just to find himself being scrutinized.
Oikawa reached out and tapped him on the forehead. “Stop making sense, you killjoy. That’s how you’ll really lose your mind. Though I’m surprised you haven’t lost it already, considering how small it is,” Hajime playfully kicked him multiple times in the ribs until he crumbled over in laughter, begging for mercy. “Besides,” he wheezed as he covered his ribs protectively, “time travel is supposed to be fun.”
Hajime turned to scowl at the TV, now glare free. “Tell that to the guy on the screen.” The man was standing on the edge of a tall building, a look of complete apathy on his face.
Hajime never realized he was falling asleep again until he was already in the midst of waking to the sound of muted voices. He covered his head with more pillows and groaned, wishing he was still asleep but also soaking in the relief he wasn’t waking up three seconds before his cursed alarm went off. Hardly a minute later, the door clicked shut and a body threw itself on his back.
“I know you’re awake, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said, wiggling around to make himself more comfortable.
“Who the fuck wouldn’t be after that, you asshole!” he shouted, turning around on his back and throwing the pillows at Oikawa’s face who blocked them with a cheerful laugh. Oikawa backed up to the wall, his legs still lying over Hajime’s stomach as he used the pillows to create a useless barricade between them. His hair fluffed around his face and his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, making him look like he was ten years old instead of the adult Hajime was certain he’d never really grow into.
“Makki and Mattsun stopped by with our homework. They wanted to say hi, but I told them you were sleeping. They kept insinuating things. It was very uncalled for.”
“You probably encouraged them,” Hajime said. It was a long running joke that the two of them were a little too close. Hajime honestly didn’t give a fuck about the rumor mill or about what people thought of them, but Oikawa always added fuel to the fire – sometimes going out of his way to start the fires himself. It was probably only due to Oikawa’s omnipresent line of girlfriends that nobody ever took any of it seriously. It didn’t mean the waggling eyebrows, the less than subtle winks, or the lewd gestures Matsukawa and Hanamaki showered them in were appreciated, however.
Romantic relationships were not something Hajime was well versed in. Or versed in at all. His only experience in the subject were with the few confessions he was given over the years, in which he apologetically rejected the girls, citing his studies and volleyball. He’d had the misfortune of being guilt tripped into hearing the lamentations of several of Oikawa’s girlfriends about how little time Oikawa gave them – Hajime didn’t want to go into a relationship so halfheartedly and remained quietly disappointed in Oikawa for doing so.
Hajime didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s grief or feelings of neglect.
But at the same time –
“Well, you have been sleeping in my bed all day, half-naked. Those boxers don’t cover much,” Oikawa said, deliberately eying him as though his body was visible to the world and not completely covered by the blanket he’d put there himself. Hajime rolled his eyes before closing them. Oikawa looked through a folder on his lap. “Oh, good. Just some reading to do for English and History. I was scared that I’d end up with a million hours of Chemistry homework. I stopped paying attention in that class last year.”
“As much as I’d like to yell at you for being an idiot, it’s probably a good thing you’re shit at chem. The world doesn’t need you knowing how to make a bomb.”
“That’s what the internet is for,” Oikawa benevolently informed as he held out another folder. Hajime suddenly felt fear for Shiratorizawa. “Do you want to see what you have?”
“Reading for English I’ve been done with for a while, chapters 15.2-15.4 for Calculus, the intro chapter to Particle Physics, and a new essay in Modern Lit due on Saturday.” Hajime recited. It was actually a considerably lighter load than he usually had to deal with, considering he was in advanced classes. Small mercies.
Oikawa frowned, confused, as he opened the packet and reviewed the listed assignments. He stared a moment longer until he moved his stare to Hajime, his eyes narrowing.
“Iwa-chan, did you already message someone for your homework?”
“Do you see my phone anywhere?”
“How did you know I knocked a shelf of tennis balls on Tobio-chan yesterday?”
“I’ve already said it twice.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to say it one more time,” Oikawa said, keeping his tone as even as possible.
“I’m stuck in a time loop,” he repeated. “I wake up three seconds before my alarm goes off at five am and it resets my day at midnight.” Hajime thought it was midnight anyway. He wasn’t exactly counting the seconds. “You insult my face as soon as I walk out my front door, take our entire lunch period to tell your adventure after school yesterday with the Ushijima spy and the Karasuno freak duo, and you eat milk bread non stop. I don’t care if your mom bought an entire store’s worth of milk bread, Oikawa. It’s disgusting.”
“That’s –”
“Fantastic. I know,” Hajime interrupted with a flat tone. “I have the world in my hands, unlimited opportunities, no consequences, blah blah. I’ve heard it all before.”
Oikawa seemed disconcerted. He was ecstatic the other day. What changed?
“How long has it been?”
“Today makes it my fifth Tuesday.”
“Iwa-chan –”
“I know you’re excited and want to talk about it, but I just – not today – alright? I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Again. Hopefully it’ll actually be tomorrow this time.”
“Okay,” Oikawa agreed after a moment, much to his surprise. Even so, Hajime could hear the bridled curiosity in that one word. Whatever face or voice Hajime was making must have been desolate enough to keep him at bay. He was unsure Oikawa even believed him, this day or the previous – Oikawa had the tendency to view everything as a game and it was a well known fact that volleyball was the only one he took seriously. For everything else he had the unfortunate predisposition to choose the option that would expose the most entertaining path ahead of him.
And as Oikawa said the previous day: he had the options of believing Hajime to be going crazy or being stuck in a time loop. No one wanted to deal with their best friend having a breakdown, but being a time traveler was the stuff of dreams.
“But really, Iwa-chan. Here I was thinking you were sick all day, dragging yourself to me for comfort, when you were just being lazy. How rude of you.”
“I will punch you. I promise that won’t get old no matter how many times I relive this day.”
It was after more harmless squabbling (instigated by Oikawa, always instigated by Oikawa) and an early dinner that they finally settled down and watched movies. Hajime watched them anyways, finally finding the one his unwanted reset button cut off the previous night. Hajime could feel Oikawa staring at him over the hours, the glasses doing nothing to block the curiosity beaming out of his eyes like a goddamned laser.
“What?” Hajime finally snapped. Oikawa put his hands up defensively as he grinned.
“Watch the movie, Iwa-chan, don’t mind me.”
“You’re being annoying.”
“There’s nothing wrong with staring at your time traveling best friend who doesn’t want to talk about his time traveling adventures.”
Hajime leaned in to glower at Oikawa, “You’re creeping me out. I will punch you.”
“Tough words for the guy staring longingly into my eyes.”
Hajime was sure that if he was stuck in the time loop for a hundred thousand years, Oikawa would still annoy the shit out of him. He grabbed the blanket they were once again sharing and threw it over Oikawa’s head and proceeded to strangle the bastard. Oikawa had the gall to laugh through the few breaths he managed to take.
“You are so annoying it doesn’t even make any sense,” Hajime said after Oikawa managed to reach up and grab Hajime’s nose, prompting him to let go, Oikawa smugly stayed quiet after being released, but Hajime didn’t need words to read what was all over his face. He lowered his eyes before bringing them back to the TV screen.
He found himself drifting off again, the litany of tried storylines, stereotypical characters, and lack of excessive cheesiness over the next few movies numbing his brain. Tomorrow he’d figure out something else to do. As entertaining as watching all this crap was, it really wasn’t giving him any ideas. He supposed he should have known that from the start. He guess he sort of did know.
“It’s almost midnight,” Oikawa’s voice stammered through a yawn. Hajime jumped, thinking Oikawa had fallen asleep hours ago when he slumped over his laptop.
Hajime hummed an affirmative, suddenly wishing he was asleep to spare himself the disorientation he was soon to endure. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when Oikawa dragged him up and shook him like a rag doll.
“You said the day starts over at midnight, right?”
“Yep,” he blandly replied.
“So anything I do right now, everything I’ve done today – I won’t remember it?”
“Yep,” Hajime confirmed, wondering why it was suddenly a big deal.
“And you’ve already told me about all of this before, right?”
“Yes, Shittykawa. What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, Iwa-chan! I just thought – you could tell me anything at all right now and I wouldn’t remember it! Do you have anything to tell me that you’ve been holding in all these years? Any deep dark secrets?”
Hajime knew it. Oikawa didn’t believe him at all – just going along with the situation because it was fun and he thought Hajime was having some fever dream. He couldn’t blame him – It took Hajime four whole days of living it before he genuinely accepted it.
“What would I even have to tell you?” he asked, not really sure what Oikawa was trying to get out of him. There really wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other. Nothing that mattered, anyway. “I can’t even keep your birthday presents a secret from you.”
“Oh, come on,” he persisted. “There has to be something.”
Hajime pursed his lips as he thought. Was Oikawa waiting for some sappy declaration of friendship? Unlikely, since they had the misfortune of falling into those types of conversations whenever Oikawa pushed himself too hard or they lost a volleyball match. Or with all the insecurities boiling away in Oikawa’s head, was he waiting for the opposite? Expecting Hajime to take the chance to list off all the reasons he was a shitty friend? Mute point for Oikawa, because Hajime made sure to tell him immediately whenever he pissed him off and why. They wouldn’t cover any new ground there.
The only contentious topic between the two of them at the moment was university, but there really wasn’t anything to say about it. No deep dark secrets there. Not really. Just awkwardness.
And he definitely wasn’t going to tell Oikawa he thought he looked good in glasses, time loop be damned.
“Oh, never mind,” Oikawa sulked after Hajime stared blankly at him for a prolonged period of time. He turned his sulk in the direction of the TV as he pulled his knees up to his chin. “But it resets at midnight, right?” he asked again. “Midnight exactly?”
“I don’t know, probably. I was talking to you when it happened – Wasn’t exactly staring at the clock.”
“But I don’t remember anything afterward,” Oikawa mumbled, basically repeating himself.
“That’s what I said.”
Oikawa muttered something to himself before falling into silence as he stared down at Hajime's stolen phone. Something akin to nervous tension seemed to sweep over him. Hajime looked over to find him glaring at the clock on his phone as it ticked over to 11:59 pm.
“One minute left,” Oikawa said.
Hajime frowned, unsettled by both Oikawa and the fact the day was likely going to reset very soon. They watched the seconds tick away.
“Hey, Hajime?” Oikawa hesitated. Hajime was too focused on the clock to think anything about the deliberate use of his name.
“Yeah?” He asked. Five seconds til midnight.
“I love you.”
Hajime barely had time to catch a glimpse of the nervous smile on Oikawa’s face before his eyes snapped open and he was met with the familiar view of his room, dimly lit by the fading starlight streaming in through his window.
“What the fuck.”
His alarm screamed in his ear.
