𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, haikyuu

𝟰𝟭. 𝗳𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝘂

apologies if theres grammar mistakes 🥹
it was kinda hard to concentrate bc my brother
was singing imagine dragons in the shower 💀

dont cancel me

♡̶ ♡̶ ♡̶

osamu's leg brushes against yours under the table. a warning for what was to come, or perhaps a signal. maybe it was an attempt at comforting you, trying to soothe the worried scrunch between your brows. you could hear your heart beating out of your chest, the watch around your wrist felt tight and heavy, suffocating you with this niggling sense of guilt. you tried to wave it off, but it lingered.

nonetheless. it was time.

you clear your throat, and just then tsumu's eyes lock with yours, a subtle nod that he sends your way before his face entirely shifts. he looked a bit mean now, a certain glint in his eye that had you nibbling on your bottom lip and biting back a shallow sigh.

"ya know, miss keiko," the blond starts, prodding idly at his food. at this, she expectantly looks up, a curious smile on her colored lips. "yer daughter's nice and all, but..."

you can tell that a few pairs of eyes have now fallen on you, and you vaguely wonder if they notice the way your nose twitches or the quiver of your lips as you gingerly chew on your food. "but...?" you hear your mom offer a nervous laugh, pulling more information out of him.

"but she's just, ah," he shakes his head a little, and there's almost this look of guilt that crosses his gaze. "just so quiet, ya know? can never have a real conversation with her."

"oh." keiko blinks. the man beside her has a darkened scowl settling over his features, fork stiff in his hand as he side-eyes his son. "atsumu."

atsumu brushes the warning off- maybe he didn't even hear it.

"well," you suddenly perk up, a hesitant anger bunching between your brows. shit, you were really gonna go through with this, huh? but you didn't wanna hurt tsumu's feel-!

"i think atsumu's just a bit too loud. you can never even start a conversation with him because he's always yelling." you finish with a forced huff. beside you, osamu brings a hand up to prop his head on, but his fingers barely hide the smile that teases at his lips.

"yeah?" atsumu tilts his head, feigning interest. he hums, "ya know, i always tried to be nicer to you just cuz my dad's fucking yer mom and whatnot-"

"atsumu!" his father fumes, fists clenched atop the table as you blink owlishly, gauging your mother's startled expression as atsumu raises his voice a little.

"but it's really fuckin' tiring when ya gotta deal with a bitch like you. you really got nothing going for ya, ya know? no hobby, no friends... not even a damn voice!" he finishes with a derisive laugh, and you furiously blink back the blurriness that begins to form over your wide eyes. osamu's hand hesitantly rests over your thigh under the table, his eyes peering with subdued worry at your side-profile. damn, he doesn't mean it, he's just being all mean in order to sell the show. and now, you have to make sure that the deal is sealed.

"i can't help but feel a lil bad for y-"

"you've got barely anything going for you either, tsumu." you counter, forcing your voice to raise by a pitch. "you've got no girlfriend- and you're always such a jerk just because you're not half-bad at volleyball. all you've got is your brother, but even then, i bet he's tired of you, too."