Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!
── .✦ “IWAIZUMI HAJIME VS. WEDDING” — iwaizumi hajime
a/n : sorry for being inactive!! finally found motivation to write for haikyuu
content : post timeskip. iwa crashing out. pre wedding. he’s so in love. seijoh 4. fluff. crack.
Iwaizumi Hajime doesn’t spiral.
He doesn’t pace. Doesn’t panic. Doesn’t start talking just to fill space. He’s the one people lean on. The level-headed one during a crisis.
Which is exactly why the Seijoh 4 are now watching him like he’s a science experiment gone wrong. The groom’s waiting room is too quiet. Tense. The kind of quiet that happens before someone snaps.
Oikawa, back from Argentina just for the wedding, sips sparkling water with the smugness of someone who saw this coming. Matsukawa is filming. Hanamaki looks both entertained and slightly afraid.
And our dear Iwaizumi paces. Mutters something to himself. Then—without warning—drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups in his suit.
Everyone stares.
“Everybody stay calm, he’s spiraling,” Matsukawa says.
“He doesn’t spiral,” Hanamaki replies, blinking. “I’ve never seen him spiral. This feels illegal.”
“I once saw Iwa-chan roll his ankle and tell me to breathe,” Oikawa says, horrified. “This is terrifying.”
“I’m not spiraling,” Iwaizumi mutters, chest nearly kissing the floor. “I’m keeping my heart rate in check.”
Push-up. Push-up. Push-up
“I’m grounding myself. This is tactical. I am not emotionally compromised.”
Push-up.
“She’s gonna look like a goddess and I’m gonna forget how to breathe.”
“What was that?” Oikawa asks.
“I said I’m fine, Shittykawa.” Oikawa blinks. “You haven’t called me that since we were 18. Oh god, he’s malfunctioning.”
Iwaizumi keeps going. “She’s gonna smile. At me. In front of everyone. And I’m gonna cry. I know I’m gonna cry. I can already feel it. It’s sitting right here—” he gestures to his throat, “like a threat.”
He stops and lays flat on the floor. The silence is deafening. “I’ve never seen him like this,” Hanamaki whispers.
“He cried when she said yes, didn’t he?” Matsukawa murmurs. “This is stage two.”
“I didn’t cry,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “I teared up. Briefly.”
“You FaceTimed me,” Oikawa adds. “There were tissues involved.”
“I was sick.”
”You were sniffling,” Oikawa corrects.
“It was February.”
Iwaizumi sits up slowly. “She’s gonna be in a dress. With her hair done. And makeup. She’s gonna walk toward me like she means it and I’m gonna stand there looking like I forgot how knees work. And then I’ll cry. And then she’ll cry. And I’ll ruin everything.”
Oikawa kneels and hands him a water bottle like it’s an offering to a storm god. “You’re in love. That’s not ruining anything.”
“I’m so in love,” Iwaizumi whispers, like a confession. “It’s making me physically ill.”
Hanamaki just nods. “That tracks. We’ve been waiting years for your emotional constipation to catch up.”
“Push-ups aren’t fixing it,” Matsukawa adds. “Try burpees.”
“I will throw up on your shoes.”
There was a knock on the door: “Five minutes.”
Iwaizumi stands. Adjusts his suit. Rolls his shoulders like he’s heading into combat. “I’m marrying my girl. My terrifying, gorgeous, brilliant girl.”
He turns to them, solemn.
“If I cry—don’t say anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hanamaki says.
“If I pass out—don’t catch me.”
“You’re gonna cry in, like, thirty seconds,” Matsukawa grins. “But you’re gonna look shredded in the photos.”
“I better.”
2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.
TAGLIST (OPEN). / @ayatakanosstuff@angelkiyo@honeycrispappletree@itsmeaudrieee