HAPPY ENDING FIRST:
You turn right on the familiar corridor that lines the row of apartments. One of them, that you call home.
You reach inside your coat pockets for the key, and stare at the sight before your eyes.
The nameplate. A gush of hot air welled up inside you. It almost felt like pride.
The words: Iwaizumi and Oikawa. His name
and yours. Lined up next to each other on the plate of wood. It was a present by Iwaizumi's parents. You were smiling so widely back then. He carved out your name, and you carved out his.
Simple, but meaningful.
The handwritings were a world apart. The personalities shone through them more this way. Much better than getting a pre-written one.
It was just pure love back then. No worries, no fights, no bills to pay.
"We'll get through this together." You had said. The ideal you had in your mind was much more different than the situation you had at hand. Iwaizumi was too busy with his projects anyway. You had practice, too.
Volleyball at university was tough. Completely different from the time you spent at Seijoh. No one was messing around during practice. The team doesn't really hand out together, either. Except for the drinking parties. Practice suddenly became really quiet, and you were not sure whether you liked it or not.
Iwaizumi comes to see you outside the gym once in a while, much lesser now. But on the occasions when he bothered, he didn't really talk much.
Now, the drinking parties. Usually after every win either from a rival, or when the occasion arises. Alcohol was playing a big part of your college life. To be honest, booze didn't taste good at all. When the team had their first drinking party, the seniors put the cup of sickly yellow liquid in front of you.
"Drink up!" They said.
You gulp, giving the glass another uneasy glance. In one big swoop, you take it to your lips and let it flow into your mouth. It sizzled inside. It was sparkling wine, after all. Swallowing was hard. It was cold, and the taste was horrible, but after two or more glasses, it just didn't seem to matter anymore.
Going home after drinking that much was impossible. It was raining, too. Iwaizumi had to take you home that night. It was nice when you rested your head on his shoulder on the bus. The memory was a little bit blurry, but you could make out the important parts. For once, Iwaizumi didn't seem to mind.
That day was nice.
You smile, fumbling with the keys you have in your hand. They clattered against each other, the cold metal pieces grazing your palm.
You pick out the silver coloured one, then inserted it into the keyhole. The door was heavy. You supported it with your shoulder and pushed your way in, kicking off your shoes. You throw your gym bag on the floor, then go back to lock the gate and arrange your shoes neatly against the wall closest to the door.
Iwaizumi used to stick post-its in the house.
Yellow ones in the bathroom mirror, blue on the countertop. Then, green ones in your room. They weren't blank, but with little notes on them. Simple.
Simple notes like "Remember to eat breakfast", "Don't fall asleep in the bathtub", even just saying "Good morning". On some days, he even draws aliens on the green ones, along with a note at the back too. "I love you", it says. You still have it in your drawer. Every single one. Be it even the shortest of messages, it was there was Iwaizumi wasn't.
