This story isn't so much to satisfy my need for angst as it is to quench my thirst for rare pairs.

His phone rang.

Hajime turned over, his groan smothered by his pillow, as he lifted his head to check the time. It was 2:30 in the morning, who the fuck was calling him. He slammed his hand down on his cellphone, and he entertained the thought of just ignoring it – he was sleeping, after all – before pressing "talk" and bringing it to his ear. He didn't even bother to check the caller ID. Someone better be bleeding out. Or dying.

"Hello?" His voice was rough, and he rubbed his eyes to adjust to consciousness.

"I'm sorry for calling so late, Iwaizumi-san. I know you've got work in the morning."

"Suga?" Hajime sat up, turning on the lamp on his bedside table glancing at his muted TV that was flashing something about whatever breaking news the media had managed to discover. He didn't bother reading the headline. "No, you're fine. What's going on?"

If Sugawara Koushi, the man who valued his sleep as much as the next sensible man, was calling him at 2:30 in the morning, something must've been up. And judging by the slight waver in the other's voice, Hajime was right on the money.

"It's Tooru," Suga said, letting out a deep sigh.

Hajime should've guessed. "Did he overwork himself again? Or is he staying up watching volleyball matches?" Either way, despite not having played volleyball since they graduated from college two years ago, Hajime still had a hell of a throwing arm. And he wasn't afraid to use it. Especially against one Oikawa Tooru.

"N-No." Suga sounded on the verge of tears and downright panic. "He hasn't come home yet," he cleared his throat, "and I was wondering if you had heard from him."

Hajime shook his head. "No, I haven't. Did you check with his teammates? You know how he likes to go drinking with them after practice sometimes. Maybe they took him out for his birthday and he crashed at one of their places." Though that didn't make a lick of sense. It wasn't like Oikawa to hang around late with his teammates and not let Suga know.

Hajime ran a hand through his sleep matted hair. When he saw Oikawa again, he was gonna strangle him for making Suga worry like this.

"He said he was coming home right after practice today so we could celebrate. I was waiting for him but I guess I fell asleep." His bitter chuckle brushed harshly through the receiver. "And I texted some of his teammates and they all said that he went home."

Hajime was already rolling out of bed and throwing on a shirt. "The last text message he sent me was before practice started." He looked around. Where were his sweatpants? Oh, there they were. Halfway hanging out of his hamper. He pulled them on. "Listen, I'm coming over, okay? Don't go anywhere."

"Iwaizumi-san, that isn't necessary."

"I'm already dressed," Hajime said. "I don't put on pants for just anyone, so feel honored." He didn't even bother turning off the TV or lamp. "And how long have we known each other, Suga? You can drop the 'san'."

Suga chuckled. "All right."

His poor attempt at adding some levity seemed to work. He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Hajime grew serious again when Suga didn't say anything more. He moved towards the living room. "I'm sure he's fine. We're gonna find him, okay? And when we do, you can be the first one to kick his ass." He grabbed his car keys.

"I'm almost looking forward to that." It seemed like Suga was going to continue but then paused. "Excuse me for a moment, Iwaizumi. Someone's at the door."

Someone's visiting Suga? At this time of night?

Hajime was about to run out to his car and speed over to Suga's immediately when he started catching bits and pieces of the conversation. He stopped when he heard the words "detectives" and "Tokyo Police Department" and something about Suga being an emergency contact. He heard Suga agreeing and giving noises of affirmation to show he was listening.

"There was a train accident," Hajime thought one of them said, "with many casualties."

Hajime's stomach dropped and his grip tightened around the phone. He didn't like where this was going. But he found himself rooted to the spot, worried that if he made too much noise on his end he'd miss important pieces of this already quiet conversation.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen – but what exactly does this have to do with me?" Suga's voice was filled with what could only be identified as dreadful hope. Filled with the hope that he wasn't involved in this. That this was all some sort of mistake. Or just a bad dream.

There was a long pause, and for a moment Hajime thought Suga had accidentally hung up on him.

"We're very sorry, but your boyfriend – Oikawa Tooru – was among them."

Suga's response barely registered through the phone call. "What?"

Hajime ran back to his bedroom where they were still broadcasting the breaking news and turned up the volume right as they were giving the statistics: 20 DEAD; OVER 100 INJURED. And only then did he see the massive train pileup behind the reporter.

And only then did he hear Suga sobbing.

Just as Oikawa's picture showed up on the screen.

Sugawara didn't get out of bed for the first three days, and Hajime was seriously starting to worry. As to be expected, Suga was a wreck that night so Hajime offered the spare bedroom in his apartment until Suga felt okay enough to return to his and Oikawa's place. And Hajime wasn't taking no for an answer. So they packed some duffel bags with a couple weeks' worth of clothes and hauled themselves across town to Hajime's.

Hajime thought he caught some shuffling behind the spare bedroom door from time to time, or thought he heard the bathroom door open and shut, but nothing concrete. He'd leave whatever dinner he made that night outside the door with a glass of water and return in the morning to find the food untouched but the glass empty. And he'd dump the spoiled food into the trashcan, thankful that Suga was at least trying to stay hydrated.

Of course, Hajime kept a straight face during the day in the event that Suga crawled out of bed and would need something, or when he faced Hanamaki and Matsukawa or anyone else that stopped by to offer their condolences.

But at night, when he was alone with nothing else but his thoughts lying beside him, he'd feel the dam beginning to break. He'd feel the tears burn at his eyes and his chest tighten, like he weighed a thousand pounds in such an empty place. That was when he felt Oikawa's absence the most. In the dead of night, when people had gone home to happy and healthy lives. When the traffic slowed to a crawl. When the lights went down. When his head was alight with unanswered questions.

When the world ceased to spin.

When Hajime's world ceased to spin.

On the fourth day, Suga emerged from the bedroom when Hajime was in the kitchen, empty plate and glass in hand and a smile on his swollen, tear-soaked face. And Hajime took it in stride, not drawing attention to Suga's dull eyes or quivering voice or slumped shoulders, and tried to give what semblance of normalcy he could. Which wasn't very much at all.

On the fifth day, Suga started spending more time outside of the bedroom and spent his days on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching comedic re-runs, cheesy soap operas, or anything else that happened to catch his interest on TV. Hajime noticed he completely avoided the sports and science channels.

On the sixth day, Hajime received a text message from one of Oikawa's teammates saying that they had a volleyball match against their strongest rivals (the team that Oikawa had been working so hard to defeat) that afternoon if he and Suga wanted to attend. Suga readily agreed much to Hajime's surprise, to which Suga said that he needed some fresh air anyway. They found themselves on their way to the gym before either of them had a chance to change their minds. And when Hajime saw the team wearing Oikawa's name on the back of their jerseys, it took everything he had to keep himself together. The team won, and Hajime and Suga watched them lower their heads to hide their tears.

"For Oikawa," Hajime heard the captain say.

On the seventh day, Suga had gone with Hajime to the grocery store and out on other menial errands, saying that he couldn't just lay around all day anymore and take advantage of Hajime's hospitality. Hajime knew that Suga still struggled, especially at night when he could hear the other's soft crying behind closed doors, but Hajime nodded. And then Suga asked how he was holding up. Of course, Hajime said he was fine, but the look in Suga's dark eyes told him he knew so much more. That he knew about Hajime's terrible sleeping habits. Or the fact that he stayed up all night tossing and turning in his own tears. Suga knew. Of course he knew.

But that night, Suga knocked on Hajime's bedroom door and peeked inside, the dim light from the hallway pouring into the darkness.

"Iwaizumi?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

Hajime glanced at the clock. 2:30. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, but, I just – I can't sleep." Suga fidgeted in the doorway, the light barely illuminating whatever expression he bore or how many tears were running down his cheeks. He looked so small. "Do you mind if I stay here with you? Just for tonight?"

"Not at all." Hajime scooted over to give Suga room on the other side of the bed.

Suga immediately crawled in, pulling the covers up to his face with a soft, "Thank you."

Hajime nodded, knowing full well Suga couldn't see him.

"And Iwaizumi," Suga started, and Hajime held his breath. "Just because I'm not okay doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be."

Hajime felt a lump growing in his throat.

"You loved Tooru, too," Suga continued. "You were his best friend, and I know you miss him just as much as I do. Don't keep yourself from grieving because you think you have to be the foundation here. We can support each other."

Hajime remained quiet but looked over his shoulder to find Suga staring at him.

"You were there for me. Let me be here for you, too." Suga reached out his hand, placing it on Hajime's cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that Hajime hadn't even noticed.

"It's okay," Suga said, voice soft and warm. "It's okay."

And the dam that Hajime worked all week to build crumbled at his feet.

"How do you feel about tofu tonight?"

"You read my mind." Hajime held his cellphone between his shoulder and ear as he finished drying up some dishes. "But I'm gonna hold off on the spice, if you don't mind."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Suga said. "You're being overdramatic."

"I had heartburn for two days, Koushi."

"Not my fault you can't handle spicy foods, Hajime."

"Not my fault you're a freak of nature." Hajime put a plate away in the cupboard. "I don't understand how you do it. I'm in pain just watching you eat."

Suga laughed on the other end. "What can I say? It's a gift. At any rate, did you want one of us to make it or did you want to go out? I know a restaurant that has some amazing tofu. And sushi, if you decide to chicken out."

"Do I need to sign a waiver of any kind?" Hajime asked. "You know, in the event that I meet my untimely end at the hands of whatever you're subjecting me to."

"Oh be quiet, drama queen."

Hajime smiled. "I'm fine with going out tonight. I've been too lazy to go grocery shopping."

"Never thought I'd see the day Iwaizumi Hajime shirks his responsibilities."

"You talking a lot of shit today, Kou."

"Another one of my talents." The smile was evident in Suga's voice. "Anyway, I'll be over in about 20 minutes. That okay?"

Hajime glanced at the clock. 7:30. Right on schedule. "Yup, sounds great. See you then." He hung up and finished drying the rest of the dishes and putting them away.

It had been about a year since the train accident, and Hajime was confident enough to say that things were getting better. Not entirely okay – it would never be okay again. But it was better. Suga had gone back to his and Oikawa's apartment about three weeks after that night and had gotten himself back into a routine. And that routine consisted of him and Hajime meeting every Friday evening for dinner because Suga didn't want to spend them alone, as those used to be the nights him and Oikawa would just stay in and watch movies or go on a date. And Hajime was fine with that. He'd be lying if he said that Fridays were particularly easy for him either.

But today wasn't Friday.

Hajime looked at his calendar on the wall and today's date was circled.

"Happy birthday, Shittykawa."

Hajime decided that with 20 minutes to kill, he could make a quick run to the local convenient store and pick up a few snacks for the movie he and Suga were going to watch after dinner. Suga had never seen The Lovely Bones since he wasn't big on American movies like Hajime was, but he agreed anyway since Hajime watched one of the comedy flicks Suga brought from home.

He was looking forward to it.

Slipping on his shoes, Hajime stepped out into cloudy twilight. Despite already it being well into summer, it had definitely been a cool and stormy one. He made a mental note to bring an umbrella when going to dinner. But upon taking that first step, his toe nudged something, making him look down.

He blinked once. Twice. Three times.

A wicker basket?

Hajime looked around but none of his neighbors were in sight, and there was no visible note attached to the basket. There was, however, a blue blanket draped over the top, and the ranks in the fabric made it seem like it was full of… whatever was in there. Hajime kneeled down to inspect the contents but pulled back when the blanket started to move.

"What the fuck?"

And that's when he heard it – the soft, broken whimpers. That's when he saw the outline of a tiny hand press against the blanket. All before there was a loud, piercing wail.

Hajime moved quickly to pull the blanket off the – yup, that was definitely a baby. A living, breathing, very naked baby. Hajime tried to form words, resembling a fish more than anything, as he stared down at the sobbing infant lying in a wicker basket at his front door.

What was he supposed to do?

What was he supposed to do?

He looked around one more time, trying to catch the eye of any passerby, before returning his attention to the still wailing baby. Does he just…?

Hajime grabbed the blanket and picked up the baby carefully, trying to remember all the times he held his little niece when she was born, and awkwardly maneuvered the blanket around the infant's body right as he started shivering. He made sure the head was well supported and had a firm hold before trying to walk back into his apartment.

The baby started calming down almost immediately, seeming to find comfort in the massive warmth enveloping him, in the steady thumping of a heartbeat in his ears, and fell right to sleep. Hajime watched the infant for a moment, taking note of the wild, curling dark brown tufts of hair and how tiny hands were held close to a tiny body, and promptly cursed.

He dug his phone from his pocket with his free hand and dialed, pressing it to his ear, fidgeting as he waited for the call to connect.

"Hajime? What's going - ?"

"When are you coming over?"

Suga held a questioning tone. "Well, I can leave now since it's started raining. Why? What's the matter?"

"I have a baby," Hajime said.

And Suga was silent.