Chapter Text
It's supposed to be the most perfect day of the year, according to the meteorologist. Tooru begs to differ as the blinding sun causes him to sneeze for the third time on this beautiful, perhaps a little too sunny afternoon.
“Of course, you would be the one to catch a cold on the hottest day of the month,” Iwa-chan taunts without so much as a concerned glance at Tooru.
The sun is not only at fault for making Tooru sneeze, but is also the main culprit for Iwa-chan’s alluring bronze skin and the black wayfarer sunglasses perched perfectly on top of his nose.
“It just means that all the girls out here are talking about me,” Tooru retorts lamely. His brain is too busy processing how well Iwa-chan’s sunglasses accentuate his strong nose and jawline to come up with a better response.
“Then go talk to them.”
“And leave you all alone?” Tooru retorts teasingly, tearing his gaze off his best friend to stare at the brilliant blend of colors displayed all around them. Almost every inch of fine, white sand is covered with beach towels, tents, and oversized umbrellas.
Fighting off a yawn, Tooru lazily stretches his arms and legs out, digging his toes into the painfully hot sand.
Going to the beach had been a great idea until they’d found almost all of Japan crowding the area. Left and right, kids were building sandcastles, throwing frisbees, and kicking soccer balls with terrible accuracy.
Tooru shoots his best friend an accusing look; Iwa-chan had made a terrible body shield from the frisbees and soccer balls that kept flying at their faces during their search for a free spot in the sand.
With a sigh, Tooru wiggles his body weight in an effort to flatten the sand underneath him and create a comfortable spot to lie down. The beams of sunlight are almost too bright and make it unbearable to keep his eyes open. Today would have been just as well spent indoors, with the AC blasting, and a much-deserved afternoon nap.
Hoping to relax and ignore the screaming toddlers all around him, Tooru lets his back hit the beach towel. His mission fails before it even starts. He sits up like he's just laid on pins and needles, the hot sand uncomfortably sticking to his bare, sweaty back.
“Scooch over, Iwa-chan, my towel is covered in sand.”
Without waiting for a response, Tooru rolls over to lie down next to him, bracing himself to get kicked and pushed off Iwa-chan’s towel within seconds. It comes as a shock when no such attack is initiated. Iwa-chan remains motionless, bulky limbs spread out, soaking up the sun; the epitome of peacefulness.
But the narrow beach towel isn’t designed to fit two teenage boys; Tooru has to squeeze his body almost completely into Iwa-chan's. He can feel Iwa-chan’s sweaty arm pressing against his, his sweaty leg touching Tooru’s. Tooru can't stand it a moment longer. It's even too hot to share a beach towel with Iwa-chan today!
“I’m going for a swim,” he announces loudly, abruptly standing up while his skin lags behind, slowly peeling itself off Iwa-chan’s. The silent wish that his best friend in the entire world will offer to join him is flat-out rejected and all Tooru gets in response is a sleepy, disinterested reminder not to drown.
The ocean is just as crowded as the beach itself. Tooru strolls around the shoreline, letting the lukewarm water swish around his ankles.
“Oi, Oikawa-san!”
Tooru lifts his head, trying to find whoever called out for him in the swarm of people. A set of black, spiky hair stands out and Tooru spots Kindaichi waving to him.
“Seems like everyone is at the beach today,” Kindachi says with a grin, a white volleyball tucked underneath his arm.
Tooru gives up on finding an empty spot to swim and decides to walk over to join Kindachi’s group. Out of the corner of his eye, he can make out Nishioka, Tooru’s most recent ex-girlfriend, chatting with other Seijoh classmates.
“A perfect day to go to the gym,” Tooru thinks bitterly, annoyed over the reminder of his latest breakup. Having a fun beach day with Iwa-chan has officially turned into a total bust. He would much rather enjoy being in a vacant gym than risk running into every single one of his exes today.
“We’re trying to set up a match, want to join our team?” Koganegawa asks.
Tooru’s first thought is what kind of maniac would voluntarily exercise outside in this heat. His second thought forms when his eyes take in the rest of the group: It's composed mostly of first-years from different high schools, and a few boys from Seijoh’s soccer team are also present. Tooru is about to decline the offer when he catches sight of Kageyama and Hinata further in the back.
Seeing those two, Tooru is reminded of the weather forecast for today and a wide smile forms on his lips. The most perfect day, after all, is the day he beats Tobio.
It might be the first time in his life that he truly regrets agreeing to a volleyball match. Sweat is incessantly running down Tooru's face, stinging his eyes and making it difficult to follow the path of the ball.
By the time they recruited enough players, all the courts on the beach had been occupied by college students and, as a result, they had to resort to drawing lines in the sand and using a portable net that Sakunami had brought with him.
Tooru's guess is the net belongs to Sakunami's younger brother because it’s much shorter and lower than a regular-sized net. The change in height is enough to throw everyone off their usual game and none of the passes land where they’re supposed to. Even the timing of Tooru’s jumps is off and he barely manages to hit the next ball with his fingertips.
“Sorry, Oikawa-san”, the setter on his team apologizes.
It was only after Tooru had agreed to join Koganegawa’s team that he had found out they’d already picked a setter on their team and that Tooru was to be a wing spiker. The hopeful thought that he might at least get some spiking practice out of the match diminished when he discovered the size of the net.
If it weren’t for Tobio also being thrown off by the change in net height, Tooru might have already come up with an excuse and left. That, and Tooru’s team is currently in the lead. Beating Tobio today still counts as a win in Tooru’s books.
The ball is tossed back to Tooru’s side. Automatically, Tooru leaps into the air and throws his right arm back. His body is indifferent to the smoldering heat and what a lousy, messy game it is that they're playing. The habitual burst of adrenaline he experiences in every game shoots through his veins and his heartbeat increases in anticipation before the hit. His surroundings become blurred, he curves his body backwards, his fingers make contact with the ball.
“Careful, Hinata!”
Tooru’s head collides with something hard. His vision changes from pure orange to black. Sharp pain slices through his temple. A dull thud pierces his ears.
Silence.
Then all at once, a mass of hysteric voices:
“Are you okay?”
“Oikawa-san!”
“What happened?”
“Hinata!”
“I just saw them both go for the ball and then they passed out.”
“I think they banged heads.”
“Should we call an ambulance?”
Tooru slowly peels his eyes open, the blaring sun almost blinds him. Carefully, he pads his head down, searching for any bumps or open cuts.
“Hinata, you dumbass!”
Tobio’s voice is unmistakably angry. It’s a blessing that Iwa-chan is still sunbathing and didn’t witness any of this. Tooru gets to relish in Shrimp’s misery and, for once, can enjoy not being the one getting yelled at by his best friend.
Someone walks over to him. Tooru hopes it’s Kindachi offering him a drink of water. His throat feels scratchy and dry.
To his horror, blue eyes, distorted in absolute rage, stare down at him. “You stupid dumbass, you almost took him out completely! Don’t you even know the basics of volleyball? You don’t put your body over the net, and you don’t headbutt your opponents!”
Tooru winces and draws into himself while Tobio continues to yell at him. It takes a few seconds for Tooru’s brain to kick him.
“Don’t yell at me like that, you brat!” Tooru barks back and gets up on his feet, ready to use his height to his full advantage and tower over Tobio. How dare he talk to Tooru like this, Tooru is still his senpai!
Before Tooru can straighten his back and reach his full height, Tobio has already stomped away and joined the circle of people gathering around… what?
Curiosity trumps anger and Tooru is quick to follow Tobio. He tries to stand on his tippy toes to sneak a peek over the group of boys and find out what everyone is staring at, but to no avail. Had they all suddenly grown taller?
Tooru gives up and forcefully pushes his way through the crowd until he can see with his own eyes what all the fuss is about.
His gaze falls on the body lying unconscious in the sand. A beautiful body, tall and muscular, the bottom half covered in mahogany shorts that would bring out the color of the boy’s eyes if they were open. If Tooru’s eyes were open.
Tooru gasps and barely suppresses a scream.
This is his motionless body lying in the sand, which means that Tooru must have died! This must be an out-of-body experience. Shrimp killed him with his terrible blocking skills and reduced Tooru's consciousness to that of a ghost!
Tooru’s thoughts begin to spiral, trying to gather any useful information, trying to make this make sense. In all the stories he’s ever read and movies he’s watched about ghosts, the premise is always the same: only one other character can see the ghost. A chosen someone who must either exorcize the ghost or help them accept their own death.
Tooru’s eyes wander away from his own body and to the lanky boy currently crouched in full concern over it.
Tobio can not be Tooru’s guide to the spirit world.
Tooru runs as fast as he can away from the crime scene. He finds he moves a lot quicker; a must-be bonus of being incorporeal.
It doesn't take long to find the place he's looking for. He comes to a haltering stop, eyes widening as he takes in the two beach towels lying abandoned in the sand. Iwa-chan’s gym bag with all the essentials that Tooru forgot to bring (suncream, towels for drying off, snacks, and water bottles) is still just sitting in the sand beside the two towels.
Where the hell is Iwa-chan?
Tooru frantically looks around until he finds a familiar broad-shouldered figure strolling along the shore. Tooru immediately sprints toward it.
“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!! Can you see me? Can you hear me?”
Iwa-chan turns his head. His black sunglasses are perched on top of his head, exposing his green eyes which are slightly downcast but looking straight at Tooru. For a moment, Tooru’s heart leaps with the belief that Iwa-chan can see him, but the look of confusion on Iwa-chan’s face breaks Tooru’s heart just split seconds later.
“You can’t see me, can you? Oh, Iwa-chan, this is so awful! I had our entire future planned out. I never even got to tell you how I felt.”
Iwa-chan tilts his head, questioningly. “Tell me what? And why do you keep calling me Iwa-chan? Did Oikawa put you up to this, have you seen him anywhere?”
Tooru once read an article about an extraterrestrial encounter where a woman had been unable to deal with the inexplicable situation and had made herself believe that she was seeing her deceased husband and it had been the husband she was having a conversation with, not the E.T.
Can it be that Iwa-chan is somehow able to hear Tooru but not see him and that his brain is unable to explain the situation and is thus embodying Tooru’s voice into a made-up physical being?
There is only one way to clear this up.
“Follow me, Iwa-chan! I will lead you to my body.”
“Your body? What the- hey, slow down!”
“Iwaizumi-san! I’m so sorry. We were just playing and then Hinata and Oikawa-san collided and then-” Kindaichi’s voice falters and he looks away with guilt written all over his face.
“What happened to Oikawa? Where is he?” Iwa-chan demands and looks around the group of first-years.
The authority in his voice almost makes Tooru forget about his death. It's truly mesmerizing how Iwa-chan can command an entire crowd with a few simple words and fear-striking, slanted eyebrows.
It’s Tobio who bravely clears his throat and approaches Iwa-chan. “We think he hit his head really badly. He’s not making any sense. He’s just spurting a bunch of nonsense.”
To Tooru’s bewilderment, Iwa-chan’s eyes land directly on Tooru. “What about you, Hinata? Are you hurt?”
Tooru surveys his surroundings, trying to find Hinata in the crowd but he’s nowhere to be found.
Suddenly, a warm, familiar hand clasps him on the shoulder. “Hey, Hinata. Are you alright? We can take you to a doctor.”
Like being tied to train tracks and seeing the train approach you, everything around Tooru begins to move in slow motion. Iwa-chan is addressing him. Iwa-chan is taller than him. Tooru looks at his own two hands and doesn’t recognize the smaller palms and fingers. Carefully, he lifts those hands and touches his face. It’s not his face. In fact, none of this is his!
Tooru pulls a strand of hair from his scalp and finds not the well-conditioned, soft brown hair, but a thin, dry orange strand dangling like a bean sprout from his fingers.
In absolute horror, Tooru looks up at Iwa-chan. “Who am I?”
“You’re me.”
A figure steps into his line of vision and Tooru stares at it in astonishment. Tall, muscular, smooth brown hair, and flawless skin.
“No,” Tooru stutters and takes a few steps back. “No, it can’t be. You’re me!”
Next to Iwa-chan, Kindaichi scratches his head in perplexity: “Oikawa-san keeps insisting he’s Hinata and now Hinata thinks he’s Oikawa-san? What the hell is going on here?"
A light bulb goes off in Tooru. “We must have switched bodies when we hit our heads!”
Iwa-chan lets out a loud, annoyed scoff, before he forcefully grabs the person in Tooru’s body by the arm. “Of all the pranks you’ve pulled, this has got to be the absolute dumbest.”
His body is being forcefully pulled away by Iwa-chan. Tooru wants to run after them, but before he can so much as blink, Tobio has wrapped his sweaty hand around Tooru’s forearm and is dragging him away in the opposite direction.
“Let’s go home. That joke was seriously not funny, Hinata.”
Tooru finds himself sitting on a light-blue bicycle, paddling behind Tobio at full speed. He has no idea where they’re going. Tobio is too pissed off to talk to him and Tooru has better things to do than to talk to Tobio. He needs to figure out a way to get out of this situation.
They eventually stop at a small family home. Tobio drags him toward the door. A kind-looking woman with curly ginger hair opens it and Tooru gets shoved inside while Tobio paddles furiously away.
Tooru kicks off his tiny-sized shoes and slowly enters the main foyer of the house.
The woman says something to him. Tooru barely registers her words, his mind fully occupied with taking in the new environment.
Based on the pictures on the wall and the physical resemblance of the woman, this must be where Hinata lives.
Tooru carefully preens each door open until he finds the bathroom. He quickly sneaks inside and locks the door. Trepidation builds with every step as he approaches the mirror hanging above the sink.
Tooru covers his mouth. A muffled scream escapes, filling the unfamiliar bathroom with sheer terror. Orange hair, stubby nose, big, hopeful brown eyes.
He’s Hinata. There’s no mistaking it.
Every part of his soul wants to escape this house and run straight to Iwa-chan's parents' home, but what would happen then? Iwa-chan already thinks it's a prank they're pulling on everyone. If Tooru insists on the switch, everyone around him might start to think he's gone insane and who knows what will happen to him then.
“Shouyou, bedtime. You have school tomorrow,” the woman’s soft voice penetrates through the bathroom door.
This has got to be a bad dream. Surely, all Tooru has to do to fix this is go to bed and then wake up from this nightmare.
Slowly, he gets up from where he’d sunken down onto the tiled bathroom floor. His legs feel unstable. His stomach threatens to regurgitate whatever food Hinata last ate.
After popping open a few more wrong doors, Tooru finally locates what can only be Hinata’s bedroom: Volleyballs and workout clothes litter the floor, a balled-up Karasuno jersey lays inside-out on a chair, an unopened school bag is propped on the unmade bed.
Tooru is close to asking Hinata’s mom for clean bedding when he remembers that none of this is real. It’s just his imagination. All Tooru has to do to wake up into the real world is fall asleep in this dream world.
He carefully slides underneath the sheets and, before he knows it, he’s dead asleep.
“Shouyou, wake up, wake up!”
Big, round eyes stare at him from up close. Tooru blinks. Once. Twice. Then almost pushes Hinata’s younger sister off the bed.
No freaking way! He’s still in Hinata’s body. Could this still be a dream?
“Pinch me.”
Natsu stares at him blankly, then shrugs and laughs. “Okay.”
Her tiny hands pinch his upper arm and Tooru yelps loudly in pain. He’s definitely awake now. He needs a new plan, needs to do more research. This cannot be happening.
Tooru tries to remember where he’d last put Hinata’s phone and finds it on top of a stack of sports magazines.
Tooru dials his own number first in hopes that maybe Hinata knows something that Tooru doesn’t.
No one picks up. Tooru resists the urge to call Iwa-chan and moves on to Plan B instead, which involves googling everything that comes to mind.
On the back of a failed English test that he finds crumpled on the floor, he begins to scribble down all the possible solutions that the internet guarantees will return him to his own body:
- Re-enact the moment that caused the body swap → headbutt each other during beach volleyball
- Tell Shrimp how I feel about him + learn to appreciate him (???)
- Alien potion
- Wait until the time limit has passed (24 hours/1 week/ 1 year (?!))
- Save someone’s life
“Shouyou! You’re going to be late if you don’t get up now.”
Tooru stares at the last bulletin. Maybe something tragic is bound to happen around Hinata today and only Tooru can stop it from happening. The universe so far has pushed him into pretending he’s Hinata. Maybe all Tooru has to do is act the character, save a cat from a tree, and then everything will return to normal.
Confident in his newly found hope, Tooru grabs the creased Karasuno school uniform off the floor and mentally prepares himself for the day he’s about to have.