Hajime’s phone buzzed. He flipped it open to find a single text from Oikawa.
“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan! Mom finally learned how to scan old photos and send them by email!”
Hajime scrunched his eyebrows, confused. “Why’re you telling me that now?” he typed as he buttoned up his white shirt.
His phone buzzed again.
“She sent me this!”
He felt tempted to tell Oikawa that he’d be late if he kept wasting time sending him nonsense messages, but he stopped when he saw the file attached to it.
“Where’d you even get this?”
“Told you, Mom had it stored somewhere and she finally learned how to put her in her cellphone and send it to me.”
Hajime clicked on the photo to enlarge it and put down the phone on the bureau where he could see the screen while he tucked his shirt inside his black pants. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
It was a photo of him with Oikawa when they were barely eight months old. They were both sitting on the carpeted floor of Oikawa’s playroom, wearing matching dark blue onesies with a UFO print. The alien craze ran deep in the Oikawa family. Hajime had seen millions of photos of them as children, and had vivid memories of how Oikawa’s face had changed over the many years they’d been friends, but he couldn’t help smiling seeing the photo.
His phone buzzed again just as he finished buckling his black belt.
“I still have that onesie, and you?”
He put the phone down again to fix his mint-blue necktie around his neck and think about it.
“Dunno, maybe Mum has it.” he’d never been the kind to get too attached to his clothes. He outgrew them and got rid of them, end of the story. But his mom kept a lot of his childhood memorabilia, so there was a chance she had it.
“How rude! How can you be so careless about a precious memory of our childhood?”
Hajime sighed and put on a cream-colored waistcoat. Oikawa sent another message before he could think of anything to reply.
“Mom says they bought us a lot of matching clothes, isn’t that cute?”
Hajime smiled again, wider than before. It was so like Oikawa to get hung up on something so simple and silly.
“We’ve gone to the same school since forever so we’ve been wearing matching clothes all along, anyway.” he typed, buttoning up his black jacket and fixing the lapels, his fingers trembling a little.
Oikawa’s reply came barely a second later
Hajime looked at his face on the mirror one more time, making one last attempt to make his hair look presentable and grabbed a white rose bud from the bureau and pinned it to the lapel of his jacket. He saw on the screen that Oikawa was typing something, but the clock showed he would be late if he waited to see what it was, so he just typed “I’m going out now.” and exited the room, leaving his phone behind.
The device buzzed once more with Oikawa’s last message:
“It’s like it was fate!!”
“Iwa-chan, I just realized something!!” Oikawa whispered excitedly.
Hajime glared at him. He could sense something stupid coming from Oikawa’s mouth. Would it be bad if he smacked Oikawa in front of everyone now? It definitely would.
“We’re wearing matching clothes today too!” Oikawa continued, not waiting for Hajime to show any interest in his poorly timed discovery.
Hajime glanced at Oikawa, his eyes roaming over the smooth ivory suit, the royal blue necktie (such a flashy color, exactly like Oikawa) and the cream-colored waistcoat peeking over the last button of the jacket. His eyes then went to the white rose bud that somehow stood out against the pale color of the lapel.
“Not quite.” Hajime replied quietly, eyeing the judge, wondering if they would get in trouble for arguing during the ceremony.
“How rude Iwa-chan, we totally are.” Oikawa pouted
Hajime rolled his eyes and grabbed Oikawa’s left hand to slide a golden band down his ring finger. Oikawa then did the same thing to him. His touch was soft and gentle like silk, and Hajime felt himself blush.
“Like I said, it was totally fate.”
“You may now kiss the groom.”
“For heaven’s sake, Tooru, shut up already.” Hajime snapped, grabbing Tooru by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to kiss the nonsense out of his husband’s mouth.