A raging ocean is a terrifying sight, with waves that roll towards stormy skies like walls more formidable than concrete and currents that grasp like hands pulling unforgivingly towards the deep. A raging ocean is a sailor's worst nightmare, one they're never sure they'll survive.
But imagine an ocean completely still. Imagine an ocean stagnant without a single ripple or wave breaking its dark surface, reflecting light evenly like a pane of stained glass. A completely static ocean, stretching endlessly in a suffocatingly silent and disturbingly calm.
To Oikawa, a still ocean is his worst nightmare.
To Oikawa, this is what it's like when Iwaizumi dies.
"It was a car accident," The doctor tells him when he arrives at the hospital, "He sustained too many injuries, he passed away in the ambula-"
"NO!" Oikawa screams, rage burning in his chest and bubbling out in a series of grating words, "A CAR ACCIDENT? HE COULDN'T HAVE FUCKING DI-."
But the word sticks to his throat with a choking sound and he can already feel hot tears prick at the corner of his eyes.
Because Iwaizumi couldn't have died like that, that's not how he should have gone out. Oikawa remembers they talked about this at an age he can't quite remember, on a night that was like so many others; in the darkness of Oikawa's bedroom, in the comfortable silence and promising lull of sleep hanging in the air, broken by hushed words.
"How do you think you'll die, Iwa-chan?"
"What kind of question is that?"
Oikawa had fidgeted in his bed, his leg brushing against Iwaizumi's under the sheets, looking at the other boy with curious eyes, far too awake for the time that glowed across the clock on his nightstand.
"I'm just wondering."
Iwaizumi had huffed irritably, having nearly been asleep before Oikawa's question, "Fine." He had replied curtly, humming in consideration, Oikawa moving himself closer in anticipation as he did so, "It'll be really cool. Like in movies."
"Oh! Like a ninja and gang member faceoff?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Okay I'll be the ninja, you're the gang member."
"Nuh uh, you don't get to decide!"
"YEAH HUH, IWA-CHAN."
The images of the memory he had thought he'd forgotten fades, dissipating like ink in water, clouding his mind, turning it a shade darker than what it had been previously. The tears are flowing freely now, but Oikawa is too numb to feel them. The doctor looks concerned, the wrinkles of his forehead creased as he looks upon him in a way that only causes Oikawa to grit his teeth harder, his jaw clenching in a furious glower.
"I'm sorry." Is all he says, but Oikawa ignores him, ignores everything except the room number. He takes off down the hallway, the call of his name muffled along with everything else, molding together in a sort of static hum.
He eventually finds the room, opening the door to see Iwaizumi's parents sitting at the bedside. Mrs. Iwaizumi's shoulders are shaking from where she's kneeling on the ground, her upper body pressed into the starchy bed sheets. Mr. Iwaizumi sits in a chair beside her, a hand on her shoulder. He's not crying, but the lifelessness in his eyes indicates that he had been until recently.
Oikawa stands frozen in the doorway until Mr. Iwaizumi notices him standing there.
"Tooru." He says, and it almost looks like he tries to smile, though his lips ultimately comply as little as his eyes.
