#except makki and mattsun make a brief appearance

[sodacomets]

IwaOi Soulmate AU ✨

(story under the cut)

I’m writing a series of Haikyuu short stories except each one is based on one of those story ideas I keep seeing on here!

I’m new-ish to writing and to Tumblr so excuse any questionable things. Also, feel free to suggest more ideas if you have any (tell me who to credit if possible)!

credit for this idea: @rubyrushha (whose blog appears to have been deleted) on Tumblr

Soulmates are not an uncommon thing. Every universe has its own version of them, be it the idea that “someday, you’ll meet the one for you”, the red string of fate that connects fated lovers, or in my case, having the first words a person’s soulmate will say to them appear on their skin when they turn 16.

The words would only disappear when you found your soulmate.

I never quite liked the concept of soulmarks and knew from a young age that no matter what mine said, my sister and nephew would tease me about it relentlessly. So when the dreaded day finally came, I wasn’t excited in the least. It didn’t help that I woke up from a mediocre night's sleep to find my family and relatives downstairs with an obnoxious amount of shiny balloons, each reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”, meandering about the living room, and “fuck you!” imprinted on my arm.

I half-heartedly covered the words with my sister’s concealer and then dodged everyone’s questions as best I could. I may have been an expert in the concealing of unwanted marks via makeup, but some things just can’t be hidden for long.

When I showed up to volleyball practice the next day, I tried to keep my jacket on for as long as possible, and hoped that no one would see my arm. Unfortunately, the coaches didn’t like that.

I tried to explain to them that the girls from my fanclub just really liked our new jackets and could no longer stand to see me in the abomination that was our regular uniforms. Maybe I oversold it a little because my teammates quickly grew suspicious.

“He’s a pompous ass most of the time, but this is too much, even for him!”

“Wait. Wasn’t his birthday a couple days ago?”

“OH SHIT! That’s what he’s trying to hide.”

As one can imagine, these kinds of reactions segued into teasing and a barrage of “fuck you”s from the rest of our teammates who, as I had found out, had very little respect for their captain and resident pretty setter.

Later, even the other teams found out about my soulmark and I found out about theirs. Most notably, Kenma and Kuroo from Nekoma had each other as soulmates, and their marks said some insignificant things from when they met as kids. Bokuto and Akaashi of Fukurodani were also soulmates. Their marks had said “Do you have like… a weird dick or something?” and “No, Bokuto, my penis is perfectly normal.” respectively. Admittedly, theirs were worse than mine. And gave me more questions than answers. But at least theirs were gone now.

After graduating highschool, and leaving behind my teammates, who finally showed some appreciation for me now that I was leaving, my soulmark fell into the back of my mind. The rumors, speculations, and jokes had long since died down. It was for the best since there had been a very uncomfortable time in which girls from my fanclub would come up to me and cuss me out. Each would walk away, dejected upon realizing they were not, in fact, my soulmate.

All that’s to say, the peace was much appreciated. I could focus on volleyball, setting, and college classes. And seducing the odd boy or girl I sat next to in the lecture halls. None of them were my soulmate, but that didn’t stop me from taking them out and having an amazing time.

It had been great.

Until one day in my 3rd year when I was walking down the street. I had my face buried in my phone screen, perusing some piece of volleyball news or another. Cliche as it sounds, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and aggressively slammed into another guy walking the opposite way. The books he was holding fell to the ground, some pages taking considerable damage. Both of us tumbled to the ground as well. I looked up from my dazed state and saw that the person I crashed into was an older boy, college-age maybe, with short, spiky, horrendously unstyled brown hair and a plain sort of appearance, albeit with a substantial build and a very, very pissed off look. I felt compelled to do something about his hair. Brush out the uncontrollable spikes, at least.

He gathered his books, some of which I helped to pick up, and stood to walk away. His jacket caught on one of the buttons on his jeans, lending to a rather disheveled look. Under his breath, he muttered something about being late, followed by a creative string of insults and capped off with a “fuck you!”

I looked down at my arm for confirmation. It was him.

Immediately, I whipped my head around and chased after him, nearly tripping, and grabbed his shoulder. He turned quickly and glared up at me. As I began regretting my decision, I took a closer look at him. He was shorter than me. 5’10, maybe? His eyes were hard-set but pretty, a sort of greenish-brown that would look outright offensive in any other context.

I returned his harsh gaze with one of my own, and used my teeth to pull up the left sleeve of my light-brown sweater. Then, l practically shoved the already-fading letters into his face.

“YOU’RE THE MOTHERFUCKER THAT GAVE ME THE WORST FUCKING SOULMARK EVER! WELL GUESS WHAT? I WILL NEVER LET THIS GO! THERE IS NOTHING WORSE THAN HAVING THE WORDS “Fuck you!” PERMANENTLY MARKED ON YOUR SKIN! FOR YEARS!”

The other boy's gaze softened a bit and turned into one of amusement rather than annoyance. He removed my arm from its place on his shoulder and rolled up his own sleeve, revealing a dense cluster of fading words, all crammed on there in a too-tight sort of scrawl.