sportsanime | Bonus Round 1: Memory

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Bonus Round 1: Memory

Let's start our summer by looking at the past—things that happened in canon, or maybe in an AU, or maybe just as wishful thinking...

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on June 9 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. (There are changes from last year!)

RULES

Submit prompts by commenting to this post! You prompt should consist of one scenario beginning with the phrase "Remember when", along with any ship/ot3/etc. from our list of nominated fandoms.
- Your prompts can take the form of recalling canon facts/events ("Remember when Nozomi and Eli got parfaits after school?"), non-canon events ("Remember when Megumi and Jin met at the Tadokoro Family Reunion?"), or somewhere in-between ("Remember when Bokuto and Kenma first met?"). Headcanons and AUs are welcome!
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Rei & Nagisa). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Rei/Nagisa). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
Post fills by leaving a responding comment to a prompt with your newly-created work.
Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.

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Brand-new works only, please.

Required Work Minimums:

400 words (prose)
400px by 400px (art)
14 lines (poetry)

If PROMPTING:	If FILLING:	If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant:
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP] Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to, including Grandstand or Sports Teams Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points Place the prompt's relationship in the first bolded line of the comment. Including the canon isn't required, but it's nice. Below that, place applicable major content tags (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none") Visual example	FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING] Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E) Place applicable major content tags and word count before your fill (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none") NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of the fill in your comment. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/> Visual example	FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E) Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of your work in your comment. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example

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Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each

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past 4 of 5

#

And like that, simply, easily, gradually, the days continue. Hajime sells flowers; Iwa-chan sticks; Oikawa becomes Tooru.
He gradually comes to learn about Tooru as well. You'd think he'd be all for sharing about himself — God knows he's got the confidence for it — but actually, he's surprisingly shy when it becomes to telling Hajime about certain parts of his own life. Tooru's been around for more than three months before he brings up his past as a national level volleyball player, having started training straight out of high school.
Hajime's more than impressed, of course. He played volleyball himself for years, on his Junior and High school teams, and then at university. When Tooru hears that Hajime himself was considering going pro but chose not to because Ushijima, his closest friend throughout college, suggested they open a flower shop instead, he's livid.
"We could have played together! We could have been teammates, I could have been your setter, you would have hit the strongest spikes in the whole of Japan," he'll cry, and then flop against Hajime's shoulder, glowering at the floor. "He's trying to ruin my life, Iwa-chan. I'm serious. He's out to get me for sure."
Tooru never does ease up with the theatrics, but now Hajime's better at predicting them, faster at reading the underlying message before he hits his stride. Which, believe it or not, makes them bearable. Sometimes he even looks forward to hearing what drama Tooru has to share with him next. Hajime never gets tired of trying to guess which things Tooru will by bashful about, and which things he'll shout to the world. An example would be his college course — he'll shrug and avert his eyes and run his fingers through his messy hair, mumbling something about sports science and scholarships and 'don't want other people to go through what I had to with my knee'.
He's amazing, Hajime eventually realises. Tooru is so amazing, amazing beyond words.
(When he in turn learns that Hajime studied biochemistry specialising in botany, he wonders if all florists are secretly evil geniuses, shooting daggers at Ushijima as he says it. Hajime wishes he could have a picture of the look on Tooru's face when Ushijima casually mentioned he double-majored in Japanese Literature and Business Marketing.)
They're both twenty-four and from Miyagi prefecture as well, believe it or not, except Hajime grew up on a rural farm with his grandparents, and Tooru enjoyed the hustle and bustle of Sendai itself. It's another opportunity for him to flop across Hajime's front counter and bemoan 'the Universe's (and Ushijima Wakatoshi's) Conspiracy Against the Happiness and Well-Being of Oikawa "Grand King" Tooru And Iwa-chan Hajime'.
He gets a flick to the forehead for such a ridiculous title, rest assured.
Hajime never could get Tooru to come clean about the arranged date fiasco concerning Ushijima. And when Hajime asks Ushijima, the weirdest thing happens -- he laughs, and won't say a word about it.
"It's better if you don't know, Iwaizumi," he insists, lips quirked. "You will find out sooner or later. Don't dwell on it."
One thing is for certain, though -- as happy as it makes him growing the most beautiful, admired, strong, healthy plant from seed to sprout, Tooru makes Hajime even happier.

#

"Iwa-chan," Tooru grandly announces one day, "this will be the last time I come to your flower shop."
Hajime's in the middle of snipping stray stems off of a thick rose stalk. When he hears the words, his hand tenses reflexively and the scissors cut straight through the trunk stem.
"Shit," he mutters, tossing the scissors back under the counter and trying to salvage the poor thing. But the damage is down — one beautiful petite rose flower and a two inch stalk. Brilliant.
"Why?" Hajime asks, rounding on Tooru. "What are you on about, dumbass."
Tooru ignores him and descends on the flower with all the grace of a starving man, oohing and ahhing as he twirls it in his own elegant fingers. He then holds it out to Hajime with a triumphant expression, gently tapping the side of his his head. "Put it in, won't you, Iwa-chan?"
He flutters his eyelids as if that'll have any effect on whether Hajime will do it.
(Hajime does it.)
Tooru looks stupidly good enough all the time as it is, but with the lovely red bud tucked behind his ear, charm becomes radiance. The gold in his eyes and the copper in his hair pop, the light dusting of pink on his cheeks — a flush brought on by the late summer heat — so prettily complimented that he looks like a handsome artisan doll, porcelain and grand.
Tooru turns Hajime's thoughts to sappy poetry metaphors. It's a nightmare. He's a nightmare.
Hajime snickers when it falls out the moment Tooru moves his head, and the latter squawks in distress, leaping after it. "I said, Iwa-chan," he repeats, getting up and gently dusting off his knees, "this is the last time I'll come to your shop."
He puts the flower behind his ear himself, and meets Hajime's eyes.
"I want to confess to someone. So please, one last time, help me pick out some flowers. Okay?"
The fluttering in his stomach Hajime always gets around Tooru turns to lead. "Y-You want—"
"I want to confess to someone, yes. And it needs to be perfect." He's leaning over the counter, into Hajime's space. "You're the only one I can trust with something like this, Iwa-chan."
It's funny because his mind is whirring at a million miles an hour, and his heart is in his throat, and his stomach anchors him down like dead weight; and yet, when he says the words, Hajime hears his own voice loud and clear. He sounds untroubled. He sounds flippant.
Wow, Iwa-chan, he mocks bitterly. Aren't you impressive today?
"What can I get you?"

#

Ushijima returns from his lunch to a broody, irritable, strangely closed-off Hajime.
"Has Oikawa left already?"
"Yep."
"That was fast."
"Mm."
Hajime can feel Ushijima watching him. Out of the two of them, he's usually the more talkative, and Hajime's short clipped answers would sound weird enough without the brittleness of his voice adding to the pathetic mix that is his life. I am the droopy geranium.
And for the first time in a very long time, he feels antagonistic towards his oldest friend, antagonistic in a silly unjustifiable way that reminds him all too much of Tooru. Please just leave me to my plants, Hajime quietly urges him, crouching over a pot of gardenias.
Ushijima hums quietly. When Hajime dares a glance up, he meets unflinching hazel eyes.
"What?" Hajime mutters.
Ushijima considers him for a moment. "Hajime."
I'm drowning my sorrows in soil and shrubbery, go away already. "Yeah."
He hums again, before quietly stepping out of the storeroom, giving him his privacy in typical quiet-kind-Ushijima fashion. "The forget-me-nots need watering."

#

Having sulked in his shop for as long as he could get away with, Hajime isn't surprised that it's getting dark by the time he's locking up. He didn't bother bring a jacket today, the night still warm enough in summer to get away with nothing at all, and he's stuffing the keys into his pocket and about to head home when he's attacked.
Not attacked, exactly. But with with Tooru, it really is close enough.
"Iwa-chan Hajime!"
Oikawa Tooru stands just beyond the window of the flower shop, a four-flower bouquet clutched tightly in his hands. His knuckles are pale, Hajime notes. Dumbass. Take care of yourself more.
"What are you dong here, Oikawa?"
Tooru takes a deep breath, seemingly preparing himself. He then walks towards Hajime, each step slow and purposeful. He doesn't stop until he's a scant metre from him, fingers actually trembling slightly around his flowers. Hajime wants to—
But he's not mine to do that to, he berates himself. He's not mine to whack or flick or tease or hold or hug or touch or kiss. He's not mine at all, he never was.
"Iwa-cha—"
"Oikawa," he repeats, cutting him off. The word feels awkward in his mouth, lips accustomed to a softer name: Tooru. "I'm locking up, come back tomorrow—"
'This will be the last time I come to your flower shop.'
The silence is horribly tense. And Tooru still doesn't say anything, lips pressed in a straight line, eyes unreadable in the dim orange light. But sunset suits him, he still looks great, and it pisses Hajime off like nothing else.
"What do you want?" he says forcefully.
"Iwa-chan."
Hajime bristles. "Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, you're always saying that dumb nickname. Tooru, if you have something to say, just hurry up and say it already." Go confess to whoever and leave me alone. "Stop wasting my time."
Tooru visibly gulps. "Iwa... Iwa-chan," he says uselessly, and licks his lips. "Iwa-chan, listen—"
"Look, I've locked up," Hajime says quickly. On second thought, he doesn't want to hear this. It's obvious what Oikawa's doing -- last-second cold feet. He's nervous, and he's come to Hajime for second-hand courage. Flowers make telling secrets so much easier, that much he knows intimately well. But for the first time in his life, Hajime doesn't want to let any of his flowers do the speaking. Not for Tooru. Not for this. "I've locked up," he says again, "so there's no point coming to me. I'm sure there are some other florists you can find if it's that urgent. If it isn't, come back later."
His apartment is in the direction Tooru is standing, so Hajime has to walk past him. When he does, a barely perceptive shiver whispers through Tooru's frame. And suddenly, Hajime is jerked back by a hand around his wrist.
"Iwa-chan, please. Wait."
It harks back to their first meetings only a few short months ago. (But was it really, when Hajime could swear he's known Tooru for a lifetime?) Tooru is wearing the same conflicted look as then, something Hajime can't quite decipher no matter how hard he tries. But this time, Tooru doesn't laugh it off — this time, the warm heat of his hand stays locked around Hajime's wrist, grounding them to each other.
Hajime stares. Tooru clears his throat.
"Listen, Iwa-chan." Without warning, he thrusts the flowers at Hajime, knocking the wind out of him. "Gardenia," Tooru rasps over Hajime's muted spluttering, voice unsteady and yet strong as the earth, "yellow camellia, white camellia, red camellia."
And then just stares at Hajime silently. He gets the feeling Tooru's expecting something, but...
"Tooru," Hajime mumbles, a little underwhelmed. "I know what these flowers are. I sold them to you five hours ago."
"No, Iwa-chan." Tooru vehemently shakes his head. "Dumb Iwa-chan, silly Iwa-chan. The meanings, flower language. Duh."
Hajime's glad to see a little of his usual humour poke through his nerves, but—
This dumbass. Of all the people Hajime could have chosen—
"Shittykawa, I haven't memorised Japanese flower language or anything!"
"What?" Tooru blinks down at him, horror becoming apparent in his eyes. "You... You don't know it!?"
"I'm a botanist, not a damn poet!"
"B-But Iwa-chan's a florist!"
"Why do you think I keep a fucking chart under the counter!?" Hajime's laughing even though his heart is squeezing and it hurts, it really does hurt. "Dumbass. You're such a dumbass."
"Is dumbass the only insult you know?" Tooru teases, a weak echo of his usual witty quips.
Hajime reaches up and ruffles Tooru's hair fondly. It's soft and warm under his fingers.
"Write a note. Hmm?" He smiles and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "For whoever they're for. That's what you're supposed to do."
Tooru's shaking his head, the backs of his hands pressing against Hajime's stomach where he's still pushing the flowers against him. "No, it's too late..." he mutters.
"Hey, no, no, you still have time." This is ridiculous. I'm setting up my own heartbreak. Idiot Hajime. "They won't wilt that fast—"
"No." Tooru takes a step back, leaving Hajime to clutch at the flowers before they fall. "I can do better than that."
He fixes Hajime with a resolute expression, and takes a deep breath — there's a look in his eyes that makes Hajime's heartbeat pick up without warning, an intensity buried deep within Tooru.
"Gardenia," he starts. "The first time I saw Iwa-chan was at a flower market in May. You were talking to rural farmers about their hibiscus plants, discussing seeds and bulbs and other boring grubby stuff, I don't know. It all went completely over my head. I just remember how amazed I was that someone who looked like such a brute was into flowers of all things—"
"Oi!"
"—but then you handled the hibiscus so gently, you cradled it in your fingers. I even saw you talk to it, Iwa-chan!" Tooru lets out a strange-sounding laugh. "It was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen. When you left, I asked the farmers you were talking to about you. That's how I found your shop." He smiles ruefully. "The truth is, Iwa-chan, I live a forty minute train ride across the city."
Hajime looks down at the gardenia in his fingers; a small delicate white flower, a little crumpled, a little crooked. "Tooru, what..."
"Don't interrupt," he hushes. "Please don't interrupt, Iwa-chan, it's hard enough as it is. I'm no good at stuff like this."
Tooru exhales slowly. When he looks up, the sunset shines amber through his eyes. They're wet. "So, that's gardenia, Iwa-chan. For secret love."
Oh my God.
Hajime is the world's biggest idiot.

part 5 of 5

"Next is the yellow camellia." Hajime holds it up, wondering at the pale semi-translucent petals as Tooru speaks. "Because it wasn't meant to go like this, I was meant to show up and sweep you off your feet, and you'd fall for me, and we'd date for a bit, and you'd... you'd give me flowers and treat me just like them, all gentle and caring and soft. But it changed, because—" He laughs, a hopeless little sound, and meets Hajime's eyes again. "Because I got to know you, and you're so cool, Iwa-chan, you're so cool I was the one who was swept off my feet. Your sense of humour, and your old-lady bouquets, and that you work so hard just to make other people happy, and how you let me flop on you even when you're tired, and the way you talk about your job — you love what you do so much and it makes me happy just to be around you. I like all the parts of you, the gentle and the rough and everything in between. Iwa-chan, I'm completely and utterly swept away with you." Tooru bites his lip against a soft self-deprecating smile, and shrugs. "Before I knew it, I was too far gone. So, yellow camellia. For longing."
"Oikawa, it's okay," Hajime chokes out, fingers trembling around the ruffled petals in his hand, "you don't have to..."
"Then white camellia, for waiting. Because I was scared, Iwa-chan. I've never— I've only— I'm— " Hajime watches Tooru struggle to find the right words, heart squeezing, beating like a hummingbird in his ribcage. "I'm not the kind of guy who does longterm, I never have been. Or, I never was, until I met you. And I was scared because it's never worked in the past, every time I care about anything too much it disappears. I work too hard and I ruin it. And I thought I'd rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. Because you bring out the best in me, Iwa-chan, just like your flowers. Around you, I feel like I can bloom."
Tooru breaks off and glances at the dark shop window, gaze far away.
"Except that wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, to hold myself back."
Hajime looks at the last flower, a beautifully rich crimson camellia. It's delicate aroma hangs in the air between them, a tenuous bridge.
"It's a red camellia, for lo—" Tooru stumbles on the word. "It has two meanings, actually... Perishing with grace is one of them."
Hajime twirls it in his fingers, eyebrows drawn together. Let him finish first.
Tooru clears his throat. "I didn't want to mess it up. I know I'm a lot to deal with, I know I'm high-maintenance and moody and annoying sometimes and Iwa-chan, I— I can't change those parts about me, that's just who I am. So... if that's too much for you, if I'm asking for too much— "
"What's the other meaning, Tooru?" Hajime murmurs.
"If Iwa-chan wants me to, I'll never come back again, you can pretend as if we never met, that this whole stupid evening never happened, and—" Oikawa gulps, looking on the verge of tears. "A-And if that's what you want, then... then that's okay, Iwa-chan, that's f-fine, I understand—"
"Tooru, you big dumbass."
Hajime does something he has never done before — he drops the flowers to the ground, and reaches up, cradling Tooru's face in his hands, gentle as can be.
"Tell me the other meaning."
Tooru's crying, face blotchy-red, eyes screwed shut, and he shakes his head with a low whine. What a brat. Hajime huffs out a quiet chuckle, and wipes a tear away with his thumb.
"That's fine. I think I can work out the meaning for this one by myself."
In hindsight, their first kiss is their worst kiss by far. Tooru starts hiccuping halfway through and Hajime can't keep his laughter in when he starts, so they're more giggling against each other's lips than doing any decent amount kissing. But his lips are softer and sweeter than flower petals, and it's everything Hajime could want.
It only takes Tooru two seconds after they break away to leap at Hajime and cling to him like an octopus, arms wrapped around his back. Business as usual. Except this time, for the first, Hajime can return the gesture, and he does so with gusto, hugging the man who annoyed the living daylights out of him four months ago as tight as he can. He presses his lips against the soft hair tickling his cheek, smelling that same shampoo; fresh and sweet and quintessentially Oikawa.
"Iwa-chan, that was so scary," Tooru mumbles into the crook of his neck. "I'm never doing that again, never ever ever..."
"You're such a mess." Hajime chuckles, softly patting the trembling head of curls burrowed against his chin. "What was the need to make it so dramatic, huh? All you had to do was tell me you liked me, you didn't have to do all this flower language crap. Honestly, Tooru." He rolls his eyes fondly, nuzzling against the warm skin of wear neck meets shoulder. "What am I going to do with you?"
Tooru sure loves his dramatics. This, Hajime knew from day one.
"You're a florist," the accused defends himself, voice whiny. "I have a reputation to uphold, you know."
"Is that so?"
"Mmm. I can't let my boyfriend be more romantic than me."
The word makes heart squeeze deliciously. "Boyfriend, huh?"
Tooru freezes, realisation dawning. His buries his face deeper against Hajime's neck. "If you want..." he mumbles, and Hajime can feel the heat coming off his cheeks, and it's adorable, Tooru's adorable.
It still pisses him off.
But this, Hajime figures, is perhaps the first beautiful thing of his own that he does not want to share. The flowers, the world can have; but Hajime wants to keep Tooru to himself.
"Hey, dumbass. I red camellia you too."
"Iwa-chan, no!" Round eyes crinkling at the corners. "After I gave you that beautiful confession, that's the best you can do?" Tooru looks giddily happy as he pulls away, gently pawing at Hajime's chest. "Again. I want roses. I want champagne. Maybe even a fancy hotel dinner. You're supposed to say it right, Iwa-chan."
He laughs, ears burning pink, before fingering the line of Tooru's jaw. "What am I supposed to say?"
"You're really the worst."
"I'm in love with you, too, Tooru."
He tenses in Hajime's arms. "Y-Yeah?"
"Head over heels."
Tooru laughs breathlessly and presses a kiss to the corner of his Hajime's lips. "Well, I must say I don't blame you."
"Shittykawa."
"Iwa-chan."
"Cutekawa."
"I-Iwa-chan..."
"Are you crying again?"
"No! You just surprise-attacked me! Say it again, I'm completely normal, see?"
"You're literally crying, Tooru."
A quiet sniff. "Shut up, Hajime."
Laughter rings through the night, carried with the scent of camellia.

#

"You'd think, being a florist and all, they'd have more flowers around the place." Hanamaki examines the living room with a critical eye. "But you know, I think it suits them."
Matsukawa nods before frowning. "Oi, Ushijima."
The man in question pokes his head out of the kitchen.
"What are those?" Matsukawa asks, pointing to the sole flowers present in the whole of Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's new apartment.
"That is the Ex-Boyfriend Vase, I believe," Wakatoshi says patiently. One would think Matsukawa would know that, being one of Oikawa's closest friends and all.
"Thanks, genius," Hanamaki deadpans.
"The flowers," Matsukawa corrects himself. "What are the flowers?"
Wakatoshi eyes the three flowers in the vase; yellow, white, and red. "Camellias. Those are camellias."
"Heh~" Hanamaki leans down and inspects them as well. "Weird choice."
Memories flash through his mind, of a bright-red Oikawa demanding he be set up on the ultimate rigged blind date, of a pouting Iwaizumi crouching over a pot of gardenias, of crumpled petals at the shop-front welcoming him in one late summer morning. He thinks about the way Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi to the door with a smile, insisting the groceries for their 'First Apartment Feast (as courtesy of Ushijima Wakatoshi, Life Ruiner and Best Friend in Law)' would take two to carry. He thinks about the way Iwaizumi grinned as he let himself be pulled along.
He looks at the vase of camellias in the centre of their new home.
"I think it suits them," Wakatoshi offers with a small smile, quietly returning to the kitchen.

i really really hope you could enjoy it even a little!!! <3 even though it's ridiculously long for what it is hahaha (ugh)

Edited 2016-05-31 02:32 (UTC)

OKAY

OKAY

NOW THAT I HAVE THE TIME TO NOT DIE FROM WORK AND READ THIS FILL I'M JUST SO EXCITED AND HAPPY TO READ IT???

oh god it was worth the wait to read i loved every bit of this and i especially loved ushijima (my farmer child) and THIS WAS REALLY GREAT TO READ

Ahhhhhh this is so wonderful! Ushijima was precious throughout and the flower language - Iwaizumi not knowing flower language - BEAUTIFUL. I really liked your dialogue, and Iwaizumi's teasing, and how gone he is for Oikawa :)))

'He hesitates, before kindly offering, "It was very pretty."
Hajime burrows his head in his arms and groans. I know he is, that's the problem.'
That was precious, haha :D

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Bonus Round 1: Memory

Re: FILL: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, T

Re: FILL: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, T

Re: FILL: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, T

Re: FILL: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, T