#hngngnn i hate tagging things

[kuroopaisen]

happy accident || iwaizumi hajime

➵ writing a love letter is stupid. childish, even. but it’s no big deal, so long as iwaizumi hajime doesn’t get his hands on it... right? 

 wc: 4k

warnings: f!reader is the captain of the girls volleyball team, cursing 

request: “kind of specific, hope you don't mind but possibly iwa-chan attempting teenage love by accepting the feelings of an accidentally-sent love letter from the girl's volleyball team captain?”

a/n: this was so fun, thank you for requesting it! a big thank you to @nostalgic-yet-forgotten for beta’ing this! 

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi said, offering you a strained smile as he held your pencil out to you.

“Not a problem,” you nodded, trying to take it out of his hand with as little contact as possible.

“Hey, uh,” he stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at you. “How are you doing contemporary lit?”

“Contemporary lit?” You frowned. “I, uh… fine? Not great, but…”

“Right,” Iwaizumi nodded, clearing his throat. “Well, see you around.”

“Sure.”

With that, he was gone.

You watch him go with a budding discontent.

What was that? That barely counted as a conversation. And for God’s sake, why had it taken him a week to return your damn pencil? You’d just assumed he’d forgotten.

You could feel Yuri’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.

“I know,” you grumbled as she zipped to your side, taking her usual spot on your bench. You’d both made a habit of sitting here during lunch – a stone’s throw from the gym, and a short walk to the vending machine.  

“Was that…”

“It was.”

“Fraternising with the enemy, I see.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.” You glared at her, reaching into your bag in some attempt to leave the conversation.

‘Fraternising with the enemy’ was one way of putting it. The ‘enemy’ being a member of Seijoh’s famous volleyball team.

Well, the boys’ volleyball team. That was the only one people wanted to talk about. The girls' team never seemed to get as much attention. And that, quite frankly, was unfair. Yes, the boys' team worked hard; but so did you. So did your girls.

Also, if it weren't for your boundless grace -- and the acknowledgement that a criminal record might mar your college applications -- you would've shoved your fist down Oikawa Tooru's throat by now. He was talented, yes, but you’d always found him kind of an ass. Made worse by all the attention he got – his personality plus an adoring fan club always seemed a recipe for disaster to you.

Iwaizumi Haijme, however, was another matter entirely.

A matter you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Why do you look so angry?” Yuri frowned, tilting her head at you.

“Because, uh… because Iwaizumi took all week to return my damn pencil,” you huffed, shoving the offending object into your pencil case. “And he decided to ruin a perfectly good lunchtime just to return it.”

“Don’t you have a crush on him?” Yuri asked in a hushed tone, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, but…” You sucked your breath in through your teeth. “I'm mad about it."

"You're mad about having a crush on him?" She raised an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah."

"Why exactly?"

"Because he's…"

There wasn't any real reason. You just felt that there had to be some natural rivalry between the two of you, given the state of your respective teams. Sure, Iwaizumi himself hadn't done anything wrong, but it was the principle of it. Worst of all, he was best friends with Oikawa Tooru. Sure, he seemed to be… long-suffering, but the connection was there.

“I’m just mad, okay?” You whispered, hoping to God none of your classmates had decided to eavesdrop on the conversation. But that’s the price you paid, talking about such things so brazenly. “I’ve got all these… these feelings but they’ve got nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean?” Yuri asked, taking a sip of her milk.

“Well, you know,” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I’m never going to tell him about it, so they just… sort of sit there. Stewing. Unanswered.” You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “I just want them to go away.”

That, really, would be the most ideal situation. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Embarrassing, really.

"Look," Yuri sighed, looking up at the sky. "Why don't you just write him a love letter?"

"You're kidding, right?" You scoffed. "Do you want me to do a whole confession? Ask him to meet me on the rooftop after school as the sun sets behind us?"

"You're not going to give it to him, you idiot," she mumbled. "Just to like... get your feelings out, you know? Teen angst and whatnot."

"You're making very little sense."

"Okay, three things," she said, holding up her hand. "One, you're not going to tell him how you feel, right? That means you're just gonna stew in your feelings. Like you always do."

"Uncalled for, but okay.”  

"Two, sometimes writing down how your feeling is cathartic. And maybe that'll help you move on."

"Or it could complicate things because I'll overthink it."

"Three, I, personally, am sick and tired of hearing about Mr. Iwaizumi 'personally crafted by the hands of Michelangelo himself' Hajime, and therefore implore you to try getting him out of your system through any means possible."

"I don't talk about him that much." Did you?

Yuri gave you a dithering look. "No, you don't. Just like Oikawa's fan club never talks about his ridiculously swoopy hair."

You glared at her, crossing your arms over your chest. “You make it sound like he’s the only thing I ever talk about.”

“Oh, not at all,” Yuri shrugged. “But I can’t help but think you’d be a lot less angry if you got over him.”

“And you think writing a stupid love letter is going to help me do that?” You rolled your eyes. You knew Yuri wasn’t stupid – she was almost aggravatingly clever, sometimes – but this was the worst plan you’d heard from her in a while.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“I’m not writing a damn love letter okay?”

✧✧✧

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all,” Yuri grinned. “Just do it for me, okay? As an early birthday gift.”

“Yuri, your birthday’s not for another three months.”

“Just do it. Or else I will march up to that boy and tell him myself.”

You knew she was more than capable of making good on a threat like that. Best not to risk it.

"You want me to write it now?" You frowned, looking between your best friend and the writing pad set on your lap. You’d hoped she’d forgotten your conversation from yesterday, but you never got that lucky. Not with Yuri.

"Uh huh," Yuri yawned, sitting cross-legged on the bench.

She'd dragged you into the gym just as school had ended, telling you that it was for something very important and very urgent.

"Why?"

"I wanna see you actually go through with it," she shrugged, taking a sip from the juice box in her hand.

"Can't I just… do it at home and send you a photo?" You tilted your head at her. You still had to survive practice, after all. And there was a chance you’d bump into him before the day was done.  

Yuri shook her head. "Nah. If you're alone -- and if you have all evening to do it -- you'll just overthink it and that'll defeat the point."

You glared at her. She hardly seemed to notice.

"Besides," she shrugged. "If you do it at home, you'll just text me about him."

“Yuri, I do not—”

“Letter,” she hummed, tapping the paper. “We don’t have much time.”

She wasn’t about to concede any time soon. You could see it in her eyes.

"I literally cannot believe you're making me do this," you grumbled, picking up the pencil with tense fingers.

"It's for your own good," she sighed, waving her hand at you. "Then you can shift your focus to the real prize of the boys' volleyball team."

You raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm talking about Makki, duh."

You snorted. "That wouldn't really fix my problem, would it?"

Yuri shrugged. "Hey, at least he'd be more fun to talk about than Iwaizumi."

"And that's because…"

"I dunno. He seems off-beat. Kinda weird."

"Don't be mean."

"I'm not! It's a compliment!"

"So, will you be writing him a love letter, or?"

"I didn't say I'm interested, I just—" Yuri took a deep breath, pressing her eyelids with two fingers. "Look, just write the damn letter!"

It was easier than you thought it would be. That in itself was more embarrassing than the fact you were writing an honest to God love letter to Iwaizumi Hajime. As much as you were resisting it, the words just flowed.

You hadn’t even realised there were so many things to like about him. And apparently, you’d noticed all of them. Maybe you were in deeper than you’d thought.

And this letter was getting a lot longer than you’d expected.

Alright. That was enough.

“Done,” you sighed, tossing the pencil onto the writing pad with a little more force than necessary.

“So,” Yuri drawled, tilting her head at you. “How do you feel?”

“Worse!” You cried. “Now I’ve actually had to think about why I like him and that makes it worse.”

“Ah. My bad.”

“This is going in the bin right now,” you huffed, standing to your feet. “And we are never speaking about this ever again.”

“Duly noted,” Yuri sighed, slipping off the table.

You stormed out of the locker room, tossing the cursed letter at the bin. You never wanted to see that damned thing ever again.

✧✧✧ 

"Guess what I found!"

Yahaba's voice rang through the locker room, a tad too much delight in his voice.

“Your dignity?” Matsukawa called out.  

"Even better," Yahaba's face appeared from the doorway, grinning. "It's a love letter."

He held his hand up, a small, crumpled piece of paper pinched between his fingers.

"Just put it with the rest of them," Oikawa sighed, waving a hand at him. Iwaizumi's eye twitched.

"Uh…" Yahaba cleared his throat, eyes flicking to where the rest of the third years were standing. "It's not actually for you."

Everyone's head perked up at that.

"Huh?" Matsukawa tilted his head to the side.

"Who's it for, then?" Kindaichi asked quietly, the top of his ears blushed red.

"Iwaizumi."

A moment of shocked silence.

"What?"

All eyes were on him. Iwaizumi could already feel his cheeks growing red.

Someone had left a letter for… him? Not for Oikawa?

Seriously?

Yahaba slunk towards him, holding the letter out. The fact he seemed a little nervous about it made Iwaizumi feel something akin to annoyance.

"Did you read it?" Iwaizumi swallowed roughly, yanking it from Yahaba's hand like an unlucky fortune strip.

"Just who it's for," Yahaba said, eyes on the ground. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, but he didn't press the issue further.

There was no way this letter was supposed to end up in his hands. None at all.

"Well, are you gonna read it?" Hanamaki was smirking. Iwaizumi didn't even need to look at him to be sure of that.

"No," Iwaizumi grumbled. "Isn't that a little rude?"

"But Iwa, the drama--"

"Don't be an ass," he grunted, cutting Oikawa off. Sure, he was curious himself, but he wasn't going to embarrass the writer. Not if it wasn't even meant to get to him. 

“Fine,” Oikawa sighed, waving a hand at him. “Let’s start, okay?”

Iwaizumi tried to ignore the strange feeling in his chest for the entirety of practice. He really, truly did.  

But by the time he got home, his curiosity had reached its absolute limit.

He lay on his bed, turning the letter over in his hands. Something about it felt so… sacred. So forbidden. It had his name on it, but it hadn’t been given to him by anyone. It hadn’t even been left anywhere for him. Yahaba had ‘found’ it.

Should he read it? Should he put it in the bin?

Thoughts about what it might say had hounded him all practice. He could barely focus on the matter at hand – no, he just kept wondering who could possibly have written him a love letter.

He had to read the damn thing. If he didn’t, he was sure the suspense would drive him mad.

He sighed, unfolding it.

 “Dear Hajime Iwaizumi,

Admittedly I'm not great at this sort of thing. It wasn't even my idea. You can thank Yuri for that. Apparently I talk about you too much so she told me to put my feelings down on paper. So, that's what I'm trying to do.”

He frowned. Yuri? Wasn’t that the vice-captain of the girls’ team? And the author talked about him too much? A girl talked about him? Not in comparison to Oikawa?

I first noticed you in our first year (I promise I'm not about to launch into a whole retrospective -- that's not only a waste of time, but it's also deeply unromantic), when you made a killer spike during practice. I came to watch because I wanted to scope out what the boy's team was like. I didn't expect to be genuinely impressed. So, congrats, I guess? Good job?

Practice? The author had been there during practice? Why would they want to ‘scope out’ what the boy’s team was like? He’d assume it was one of Oikawa’s fans, but…

Anyway, I thought you were kind of cute, so I kept an eye on you. Oh man, that sounds creepy. I promise I didn't get up to anything weird, I just yearned from afar. I thought it would pass. But then, like, halfway through second year you got hot. So, fuck you for that one.”

He snorted at that.

“Okay, this is sounding less like a confession and more like a list of your crimes. Sorry, just some of that unnecessary rivalry I've built up in my head towards the boys' team.”

The reference to the ‘boys’ team’ again. Was this who he thought it was?

No. He wouldn’t let himself hope.

“That aside, I couldn't help but notice how dedicated you are to the sport. How hard you work. How much you apply yourself. It mustn't be easy, keeping Oikawa in check; he strikes me as the sort who's prone to self-destructing if no-one's looking. But it's like you keep him grounded. I'm not sure if you get praise enough for that.  

And I can tell that your team really, really respects you. Especially your underclassmen. That's no small feat, you know. I mean, I'm sure you do know, but—”

He pressed a hand to his face. Yep. He was burning up, alright.

“I don't quite know how to explain it, but I see this kindness in you as well. We've only spoken a handful of times, but when we have, I've always felt like you've respected me and what I have to say. A lot of the girls are scared shitless of you, but they all feel safe when you're around.”

‘The girls’? As in… the girls’ volleyball team? God, what he wouldn’t give…   

“Okay, I'm definitely rambling, and I'm not making a lot of sense, but thank you for being a good guy. That's a big part of why I'm so attracted to you.

So, this has gotten embarrassingly long. I'm sure my face is bright red as I write this.”

If only he could let the author know that his face was just as red while reading it.

“TL;DR -- you're hot and you seem cool. Also, you look great when you're all sweaty after practice. I don't know how you manage it.

Okay bye.”

And there, at the very bottom, was your name.

His heart felt like it was going to both collapse and burst through his chest.

You’d written all that. You. The captain of the girls’ volleyball team. The girl that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you walked in the room. The girl he kept borrowing stationery from because it gave him an excuse to talk to you. The girl he was sure overlooked him for other members of his team.

You’d written him a love letter.

What should he do? What should he say? Should he say anything? You hadn’t actually given it to him yourself. Did that mean you didn’t want him to see it?

God, he felt like he needed to get up and pace. He sat up, slinging his legs over the side of his bed.

He couldn’t just ignore this. Not when you’d said all that. Not when he’d been paying just as much attention to you these past three years. But again, you hadn’t handed it to him yourself, and –

He clapped his cheeks in a poor attempt to ground himself.

No. He had to act on this.

And soon.

✧✧✧ 

"He's here."

"Huh?"

Yuri nodded at the door of the gym. You looked over your shoulder. Huh? Iwaizumi?

"Do you know why?" You asked, turning back to your best friend.

"No idea," Yuri shrugged. "Looks like he wants to talk to you, though."

You frowned, turning to look at him again. He gave you a tiny wave. It looked so bizarre coming from him. But, admittedly, it was kind of cute. "He better not be trying to kick us out of the gym," you mumbled, turning around and jogging towards him.

Iwaizumi took a step back as you closed in, putting a bit more distance between the two of you.

Rude, you thought. Even after I’ve written him a love letter and everything. Not that he knew that.

“How can I help you?” You sighed, trying to smile at him a little.

“Uh…” He was staring at his feet. That was unusual. He always made eye contact with you – and you knew, because you always had to make sure you weren’t intimidated by those striking eyes of his.

Was he… blushing a little?

What’s going on?

“Can I speak to you in private?” He sounded nervous. Why on earth –

Oh. Oh no.

You could feel your teammates staring at you. Not that they knew what had happened. But there were certainly whispers about you and Iwaizumi.

"Outside," you barked, pointing one stiff arm out the door. "Now."

Iwaizumi nodded, turning on his heels and marching away.

You scurried after him, your mind bubbling with a whole slew of anxieties. Were you about to get rejected? How did he even get his hands on that cursed letter in the first place? Couldn’t he have just ignored it?

You walked a short distance from the gym, tucked around the side. At the very least, he’d chosen a location that’d minimise the number of passers-by.

But it was also the side of the gym that faced the setting sun. Meaning that a warm glow was illuminating his aggravatingly handsome features in the most delightful way.

You felt like you were about to die.

You were about to be rejected by The Iwaizumi Haijime while he looked this beautiful—

“Here,” he mumbled, holding the letter out to you.

You frowned. You hadn’t seen him get it out. “Where did you get this?”

“One of the guys found it,” he shrugged.

Oh. Of course. You may as well start digging your own grave.

“Are you okay?” He asked, letting his arm drop to the side when you made no move to grab that cursed little McGuffin.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” you swallowed, hands gripping your shorts.

“Oh…”

“My friend, she—she thought that I should write about my feelings for you to get them out of my system, so—” Why were you telling him all this? This just made you feel worse?

“Oh,” he swallowed. “I see.”

A pause. A deeply painful pause.

“So you don’t feel like this anymore?”

Was that… disappointment on his face? Heartbreak? Something of a similar ilk?

Oh. Oh, letting yourself hope was a very bad idea. But you couldn’t help it.

You shook your head, your cheeks beginning to head up. “I… I definitely still feel all those things I put in the letter.” Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the details very well. God, you hoped they weren’t too embarrassing. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, let’s just… pretend it never happened.”

You tried to smile, but you didn’t know how convincing it was. It definitely wasn’t.

He smiled. God, he was so damn beautiful. You really were going to die.

You’d never seen him smile like this before, had you? That was a damned shame. At least it would be the last thing you saw before you—

“What if I don’t want to pretend this never happened, though?”

Wait, what? Had he really just said that?

“Why… why wouldn’t you?” Your heart was about to hammer its way through your ribcage, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

He finally looked you in the eyes. His own were so intense, so beautifully green. “Well, I-I was hoping I’d be able to take you out on a date.”

Oh shit. Did the great Iwaizumi Hajime just stutter?

Your face bloomed red. “I’d love that,” was the only thing you could choke out.

And God, his smile. The one you’d seen just a few minutes earlier was nothing compared to this. No, this smile was the last hit you could take.

Iwaizumi wondered if he should do something; hug you, hold your hand, kiss your cheek. But he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep it together if he did.

So, he just gave you some kind of nod-bow – something a little awkward yet earnest.

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

“So,” he rose back to full height, clearing his throat. “Friday, after practice?”

You tilted your head at him. “Won’t you be all sweaty, though?”

A new kind of smile touched his lips. Three flavours of Iwaizumi Hajime’s smile in one day. You truly were blessed.

“I thought you liked me like that.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck. You’d written that in the letter, hadn’t you?

You clamped your hands over your face. You couldn’t look at him anymore. Not today, at least.

Iwaizumi laughed gently. God, you were so cute. “Really, though. Is that time okay with you?”

You just nodded, hands still covering your face.

“I look forward to it,” he said. And he smiled, even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

He wanted to say something else. To compliment you, maybe. But he couldn’t think of what to say – there was too much, and he didn’t know how to phrase any of it.

And, he didn’t want to embarrass you. You looked one compliment away from an implosion.

“See you around,” he murmured. And with that, he walk-jogged back the way he came. He just hoped that his face wasn’t too red. The guys would never let him live that down.

You peeked through your fingers. Yep, he was definitely gone.

You keeled over, taking a deep breath. Did you really manage to make it through that in one piece? Without saying anything too embarrassing? Well, past the fact that your shitty love letter had ended up in his hands…

But that didn’t matter much. No, there was something much more important.

The Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to take you on a date. Did that mean he liked you, too? Well, he obviously liked you a little, since he’d asked, but…

Oh, this was so embarrassing. You really needed to get yourself together.

You had a date on Friday, after all. 

✧✧✧

“Good job letting one of the second years find it,” Yuri murmured, peeking around the corner.

“Ah, well,” Hanamaki chuckled, “that’s how you make it look even more like an accident.”

Yuri looked over her shoulder at him. “Am I a bad person?”

Hanamaki shook his head. “Nah. They needed this push, y’know?”

“Yeah, but…” Yuri bit her lip. “You do realise they’re both perfectly capable of killing us, right? And that’s on their own. Imagine what their combined power looks like.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hanamaki grinned, waving a hand at her. “They’ll be too loved up to notice.”

Yuri frowned, staring off into the distance for a moment.

All’s well that ends well, I suppose, she thought. After all, both her and Hanamaki had worked far too hard to make this happen. At middling cost.

“You know, I had to stick my hand in the garbage for that letter.”

“You did what?”