Plan {Iwaizumi x f!reader}

California

It all started in your first year of college. You traveled all the way to California for your bachelor's in media literacy. It was humorous when your mother found out, her teasing, "Of course, you leave me for Hollywood's drama." You rolled your eyes, and she offered a hug which you didn't indulge in. The last conversation you had in person though, you did accept that hug, saying goodbye for what would most likely be eternity. You aren't returning to New York, and you especially aren't returning to her or the devil she let inside the house. Now, you're just faced with over-coming everything alone, dorming with a stranger, keeping up at the cafe you've worked at since the beginning of August, and making sure you have fun with college work and don't let it consume you like high school's did. Also, making friends. The last isn't going so smoothly.

You hit it off with your roommate, letting her put on some school-spirit make-up on you before you both had a mini photo shoot in your bathroom with the Shrek shower curtain. It was perfect until your first day of classes, when you had to find a seat and chose the back, knowing you needed to sit in the front because you are an old lady, body breaking from the lack of security in your childhood. However, after the first week, you finally got the hang of it, and like a normal college student, showed up in pajamas and sat in the middle, sitting with one leg under your butt with heaps of supplies in your old backpack. Yes, you kept your high school bag, the flight cost a million of them. Anyway, everything was going well besides that one factor. And then, English class offered you a hand. You want to say it was fate, but if you think that, then you'll think about what happened in your home, and fate doesn't seem so kind after that.

Hajime, he said, sat next to you. It wasn't his first time in the class since you saw him on your first day, but it was his first time sitting back here- with you of all people. He must be confident, you muse, showing up early and sitting in the front. Or showing up late and sitting in the front. English is boring -so much fucking writing- so there's a lot of space up front. "So, how long have you been going here?" You look over to him, admiring his green eyes and how they seem to like your own. "This is my first year." He nods, admitting, "Same." You smile a bit bigger, fingers playing with the number 2 yellow pencil in your grasp. "Well, first year, was this your first college pick?" He shakes his head with his own smile, opening his lips with a breath slipping inside before he responds, "No, but I decided learning English has to benefit me somehow, so I ended up applying to here... Which gave me the most money." You airily chuckle, nodding your head. "Yeah, that's most people's reason." His brows furrow. "Not yours? You take a moment, letting your eyes flicker between his own before you lose his, looking at the computer in front of you.

You're both letting the lesson fly by without any consideration. The professor will post the notes after, and all the assignment for this week so you're not really missing anything. But even if you were, you doubt you'd want to pay attention when this is the first stranger to come up to you. It's a bonus that he's hot and smart. "Well, not to get all emotional, but I think some people go to college to find themselves... And I'm trying to do that with hiding from my past..." You shrug. "They also offered me the biggest scholarship in California." He 'aha's with a little chuckle, airily like your own. You don't linger on how warm it makes you feel, his next question grabbing your attention unlike this lecture. "And why California specifically?" You shrug again. "Most different from New York, in my opinion." He nods, eyes back on the professor. "And what if something isn't different?" You admire his side profile before he looks at you, his jaw sculpted and hair almost comically spiky. When he meets your eyes again, you smile outwardly. "I'll deal with it when it comes." You turn back to the lecture, hoping he checks you out the way you did him.

After the lecture, you move to pack up your stuff, gratefully free from lectures even though it's only twelve. Hajime copies you, moving to pack up his bag and failing to line it up in time with you. "Um- Hey," he starts, already grabbing your attention because he wants to talk to you. You turn towards him, old bag on your shoulder with your hand in your hoodie pocket.  He's wearing grey sweatpants and a black college hoodie with his old backpack opened, needed to be filled with the supplies he used. "Do you... want to grab coffee now?" It's what people say when they want the conversation to continue. You know that but hearing it from his lips sounds like a morning bell. You're shocked, eyes blinking and wide as you take in his words. Then, you shrug with a smile. "As long as I can get tea." He as his own smile again, no sheepish, hesitant look on his face as he talks to you, affirms, "Yes." 

The cafe you both go to is tiny, aesthetically calming with the light and shiny auburn wood and planting long and short decorating the cream-colored counters. You order a tea as asked, and Hajime orders a coffee, however when you make a move for the wallet, he pulls out his own, a twenty-dollar bill on display as the man behind the cashier nods. "Okay, your drinks will be out in a second." You both thank him, waiting until he leaves before you make a comment "You paid?" He nods, you both walking to a table near-by. It seats two people, each chair across from each other and the table shiny like the rest. "I asked you out, so it only makes sense." You nod, cheeks heating even if you know this really isn't a date. You only just me, and asking someone out for coffee isn't romantic when you're both strangers. "Okay, but I'm totally paying you back." He smiles with a shake of his head and breath from his nose. "I want to pay." You roll your eyes playfully, sitting back in your chair and looking around. "So, what's your degree?" You look back at him with your answer. "Media literacy. Yours?" "Sports science." You smile, big leaning forward because this man intrigues you. "You came to Cali to study sports?" 

You're playful as you tease, his own body leaning towards you as he smiles. "It's to be a trainer." "Wow, and I thought I was stereotypical for coming to be a journalist or advertiser. Where are you going to apply with that?" He takes a moment, olive green eyes flickering between your own, inhaling once before answering in an exhale. "To be an Olympic trainer." Your face falls, shock more obvious than when he asked you for coffee. You don't know if he expects you to be excited, or if he still sees you as a stranger the way you should as well. You just know that your eyes light brightly, hand reaching over to rest over his beige one. "That's amazing! Ugh, I wish I had that goal before I came here." He stares at your hand for a second, mouth moving before a response sound in the air you both share. "You still can, y-y'know?" You hum. "Yeah, but I'd rather report on others. Like, get some side of a true story, tell someone's true story... I'd want that if I were them. I want people to trust me like I want to trust other." You give a shrug and smile at the end, obviously giving a too in-depth answer, but unable to supply anything else. Your mother knew this was your flaw, so did that man in the house, if you can call him that.

"Well, you need practice with building trust with your interviewees, so... Why not start with me?" Your eyes widen like before, though in this cafe, under this circumstance, it's not as disbelieving, it's more hopeful. "Here are your drinks." Maybe one day you will get to that trust before your first real interview, and maybe it will be with Hajime. Or maybe, his Olympic dream will come true in Japan, where you will visit but never be.