Iwaizumi felt like the polar opposite of the night.

It was beautiful out, to say the least. Cloudless and clear, the stars above twinkled like glitter in the sky. A crescent moon shined even brighter.

There was a slight breeze that ruffled the strands of his hair, but it was a relaxing breeze that would've made anyone else sigh with relief.

People milled around the streets, chatting and laughing with each other. Everyone looked happy, carefree without a worry in the world. Building lights illuminated the entire block in different hues of blues, reds, pinks, and many other colors that he didn't have the patience to name.

The Gala was now at least four blocks behind him, and you would think that maybe Iwaizumi could breathe a little easier now, but he was still choked for air as he fumed angrily in silence.

His anger was still rising up inside him. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got and the more he felt like he was being crushed by the world.

He quickened his pace to match his raging heartbeat, huffing and puffing for air as his legs sped up too.

And soon, he was sprinting down the street, pushing past people and dodging others as his feet carried him far away from the mess behind him.

Far, far away.

But he didn't run long as his temper was blinding his vision.

Iwaizumi turned right, sprinting onto the road without any thought. He faintly heard the sound of honking and someone yelling. Bright lights literally blinded him and he came to a stop, just standing out in the middle of the road.

Suddenly he felt someone grab his arm and pull him away from the street. He crashed onto the sidewalk, gasping for breath.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. The world was starting to spin, and he felt insanely dizzy, almost nauseous.

"Hello? Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

Iwaizumi shook his head, half-listening to whoever was talking. He had a very strong urge to throw up.

"Hey, what's wrong with— Hajime? Is that you?" His savior knelt down to his level, and he peeked through the space between his fingers to meet a pair of concerned-filled brown eyes.

He felt his heart leap to his throat as he croaked out, "Oikawa?" His hands fell from his face to get a better look at his soulmate—

"Oikawa?" scoffed his savior. "Who the hell is that? You don't recognize your own sister?"

"Oh," his face fell, "hi, Harumi."

"'Hi?!' Hajime, are you okay? You literally just ran out in front of a car!"

He nodded absentmindedly. The anger he felt earlier was gone and replaced with an emptiness. It was like he's hollow on the inside.

"And what are you wearing? You haven't worn a suit since Mom's funeral..." Harumi trailed off. She cleared her throat and then asked, "What are you doing out here, Hajime?"

"I'm.. I- uh—"

His sister frowned. "Maybe we should get out of here first. Let's go to my apartment; it's only a few blocks away."

Iwaizumi swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He needed to get away.

•

It's been almost a year since he's visited his sister's home.

Not much had change; there were more potted plants and a wall repainted, but other than that, it looked the same as it did the first time he came over.

They weren't super close; Harumi was ten years older than him, but if it weren't for her, he's quite sure that he might have starved to death.

"Make yourself at home," said his sister. "Which reminds me, you should really come live with me. I can't imagine it's easy living on your own."

Iwaizumi flopped down on the couch. "It's not that bad," he replied. "I have a job, and Dad still sends money occasionally."

Harumi raised her eyebrows. "I guess I should thank him for still caring about his son."

"Don't bother," he scoffed. "I think he'd call the cops on you."

His sister laughed, and he relaxed slightly. Here, he was okay.

And yet, he could feel pricks of guilt stabbing at him on the inside.

"Take off your jacket," said Harumi. "I'll get you some water."

He complied, slipping off the black coat and laying it carefully beside him. Sighing loudly, he pulled his phone out of the pocket and turned it off.

His sister came back shortly with two glasses of water. He took one gratefully and began chugging it. After the glass was empty, he set it down on the small coffee table and sighed again.

"So," started Harumi. "Will you explain what the hell you were doing tonight?"

Iwaizumi scratched his head. "Can we talk about this tomorrow? I really don't want to talk about it."

His sister pursed her lips. "And you'll really explain everything tomorrow?"

"Yes."

She raised her eyebrows. "And you're not lying?"

"Just leave me alone, sis." He grumbled. "It's been a long night."

"I bet. Did your date leave you or something?"

More like I left him. "It wasn't a date."

"Your outfit says otherwise."

"It wasn't a date," he repeated, frustrated. "Can't you just drop it already?"

Harumi whistled. "I haven't seen you this agitated in like.. ever. Come on; tell me what's wrong."

He exhaled angrily. His temper was rising again; the emptiness he felt earlier already filling with heat.

"Nothing's wrong!" He shouted. "Why can't you just believe me!"

"Because I know you, Hajime," his sister replied calmly. "You're not going to be okay until you talk about it. That's how you've always been."

"But I just don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, defeated. "I don't want to do anything."

"Okay," said Harumi. "I won't push you too much. Let's talk about something else."

Iwaizumi sighed. "I don't even want to talk."

"That rough of a night?"

"Yes."

Harumi chuckled and then grabbed the TV remote, turning the device on. She flipped through a few channels before settling on the local news.

Iwaizumi stared at the bright screen, not paying attention to anything the reporter was saying. He was too far in his own thoughts.

Maybe I shouldn't have left Oikawa.

But he shouldn't have said that to Mr. Mori, he countered.

But he definitely has the right to say that. I shouldn't have interfered.

His face scrunched up. But he's my soulmate. And he obviously needed help.

But did he?

Iwaizumi paused for a moment.

Yeah, he did. He would've gone through even more abuse if I didn't—

He frowned. What exactly did Iwaizumi do?

I—

His frowned deepened because he can't recall a single time where he actually helped Oikawa—

"Holy shit. Someone got hit by a car."

Iwaizumi blinked a few times, letting his sister's words register in his brain. "What?"

Harumi was staring at her phone, ignoring the TV just like how he was. She turned the screen towards him so he could read the words.

"Breaking: someone hit by vehicle at tonight's annual Gala."

He suddenly blanched; the worst thoughts already forming in his mind.

"Did it say who?" He asked quietly.

His sister turned the phone back and scrolled with her finger. He carefully watched her face, his heart thundering in his chest.

Please don't be Oikawa, please don't be Oikawa, please don't be—

Harumi frowned. "The person wasn't named, but I think they were kind of important. Maybe they'll release more information later."

"Yeah, maybe." His leg started bouncing. Please don't be Oikawa, please don't be Oikawa.

He paused.

"Harumi."

"What."

"Was there any other news about the Gala? Something about- uh, Politician Mori?"

"Eito Mori? No? I don't think so. Why? Did something happen?"

Iwaizumi's brow creased. There's nothing?

"Are you sure? Like, you double-checked?" He questioned.

His sister frowned. "Yes, I checked. Hajime, did something happen? You're not telling me anything."

There were definitely reporters inside of the party. I remember seeing a few phones recording too.

How could there be nothing?

"Let me see your phone, sis."

"What? No! Use your own!"

He growled. "Just lend me it for a minute. Come on."

"Use your own, Shitface," snapped Harumi.

He grumbled a few curses but grabbed his own phone, turning it back on. Tapping his finger impatiently, he looked back at the TV screen.

The news station was still playing, and he was waiting for something—anything—about his and Oikawa's little argument with Mr. Mori to be displayed.

But the reporter kept talking about the upcoming election and how "Politician Mori is the best candidate for this country."

Bullshit, he thought.

Finally, his phone turned back on and he quickly tapped on the screen, browsing through the internet for news, any news.

But the only coverage any station gave was about the car accident at the Gala.

He shouted in frustration.

"I think you need to calm down," said his sister. "Seriously, what is up with you?"

Iwaizumi angrily shook his head. He tossed his phone to the side, burying his face into his hands.

Fuck.

I shouldn't have left Oikawa alone.

"I shouldn't have left Oikawa alone," he said aloud.

His sister whistled. "I'm not sure who Oikawa is, but they just released more information. Looks like it was Mori's son who got hit."

•

Ahhhhhhhhhh