Haikyuu!! Oneshots

What a Little Shit (Keishin Ukai)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Ma2]

Requested by: The Ghost of Easter Present

Word Count: 3,810

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Platonic Oneshot; Not Romantic
- Name Calling: Cupcake, Mini-Me
- Single Father Takeda
- Overprotective Uncle Ukai
- Smoking
- Mentions of Drug Abuse
- Mentions of Underage Drinking/Marijuana Use
- Underage Smoking
- Mentions of Blowjobs
- Cheating

———————————————————————
     "What the fuck is that?" I ask my fellow coach, my eyes wandering over a short package of pink dye, piercing-filled skin, and a fluffy skirt.
     "A person, you grump on a lump," the drench of... of girl snaps at me. Her arms are across over her chest as she tries to glare at me. The want to be angry just makes the teenager look like a kitten plucked from her clutter too soon. "You know, your mood would improve if you gave up smoking. Not at first, but in the long run it would."
     Takeda sheepishly smiles at me as he strengthens his hold on the girl's shoulders. The big round eyes empathized by the glasses on her plump face make her look like an obscured Mini-Me of the teacher behind her. "This is my lovely daughter. She didn't mean that insult."
     The shock that rakes through me is great enough that the cigarette between my lips tumbles to the counter, promising a burn mark to be left behind. "I'm sorry?" I mutter, sitting up straight as I once over the child again. "Daughter?"
     "Yes," Takeda laughs, the sound announcing his nerves even more. "There's a mandatory teaching conference in Tokyo this weekend but she has an art exhibit on Saturday so I can't take her with me. So, I was wondering - "
     "No," I answer before he can ask his question.
     "Come on. Please?" He starts his begging, my constant headache caused by him already rolling in. "I don't have anyone else to watch her or else I wouldn't ask."
     "What about her mother?"
     "My Cupcake's mother left us when she was three months old. Last I knew she was strung out somewhere in Hiroshima but that was almost a year ago." The sudden seriousness in Takeda's voice is almost as unsettling as the quick history lesson on his Baby Mama.
     "I'm old enough to stay home for one weekend by myself, Dad," His daughter butts in, unfazed by the openly hung dirty laundry about her mother. If anything, her interest in her cellphone almost convinces me she didn't hear any of it.
     "Disobedient daughters that sneak out of the house to go drinking and get high with their classmates don't get to be home alone." Or maybe she's not unfazed by it. After the small reprimanding, Takeda turns his attention back to me, the whole father mask wiped from his face. "It's just two nights! She'd be more than happy to help you around the store - "
     "Absolutely not." His daughter's snarky comment and Takeda's blatant ignorance of it are almost funny enough to make me laugh.
     "She's pretty self-sufficient and I'll give her money for food. You can stay at my place so you'll both have a comfortable amount of space. I just need someone to make sure she's okay and staying out of trouble. Really you just need to watch her Friday night and Sunday until I get back since she'll be busy with her art exhibit most of Saturday. She's a nice kid, I swear. Her insulting you was just - "
     "Let me think about it," I grumble, cutting off Takeda's ramble of pleas. My fingers dig into my temples as I massage them, my headache full steam ahead now. A river of 'thank you's spills from my friend, relief melting off of him as annoyance melts from his daughter. "I didn't agree, I said let me think about it!" I yell, finding his appreciation more annoying than his pleas.
     "Thank you so much, Ukai!" He chirps over his shoulder, herding his daughter out of my store. "I really appreciate it."
     "I didn't say yes!" Great, now I'm stuck on babysitting duty all weekend because Takeda can't take no for an answer.
     What a little shit.

                  —————————————

     A puddle of annoyance, heated eyes, and soft blue with streaks of pink hair settles in front of me. Takeda is hunched over in his millionth bow, 'thank you's exhaling from him more than air. I wonder if his back hurts from how often he bows to others.
     "It's not that big of a deal," I grumble, a cocky smile crawling on my face at the win of my staring contest with the pissed girl. "I just have the team and the store this weekend anyway. One more teen can't make too much havoc."
     Takeda wearily smiles as he straightens his stance, making me second guess my statement. His attention quickly shifts to his daughter, his hands jumping from her shoulders to her hair. "I'll be back Sunday night, Cupcake."
     "Okay."
     "I'll call you as soon as I get to Tokyo."
     "Okay."
     "Behave for Ukai-San."
     "Okay."
     "Hey, I'm being serious," Takeda says, his tone firm as he grabs his daughter's face, forcing her to look at him. "Behave. Don't go around causing him any issues. No drinking. No smoking. No weed. No boys. Understand?"
     "Yes, Dad," she answers, her tone annoyed and eyes rolling.
     He tucks her head down, leaving a light kiss on his daughter's forehead. "I'm going to miss you so much. I love you, Cupcake."
     "I love you too," the girl whispers, wrapping her arms around her father as she buries her head in his chest. "You promise you're going to call tonight?"
     "Of course. I'll call you every night I'm gone. Feel free to text or call whenever you feel like it. You're the most important thing in my life, Cupcake. Don't forget that."
     I rip my eyes away, my stomach churning from the sight of my friend's eyes watering. I know Takeda is a softy but damn, I didn't think he was that soft. It's one weekend away from his teenager. It's not like she's going off to college.
     Slowly, the two of them part, Takeda buzzing with anxiety as he picks his bag off the ground. "Alright, behave," he reminds her, giving her a stern look before pecking her forehead again. "I'll see you in two days! I love you!"
     "Love you too, Dad!" The girl responds, waving at her father until he's tucked in his car and far enough down the road that he can no longer see her.
     "I can't believe you were giving me shit about smoking when you smoke too," I half tease, carefully watching her reaction. I don't know how to comfort a crying girl. Especially one that misses her dad. What did the Old Man do when I missed my dad?
     "I can't believe you're making me stay at your crummy bachelor pad instead of the nice house Dad offered for you to stay in." Well, I guess she's not as worked up as Takeda. That's good.
     I shrug my shoulders, pulling my pack out of my apron pocket. "It's closer to the school than your house. Besides, I figured you would want to sleep in instead of waking up at the crack of dawn to come to the store with me. Smoke?" I ask, tipping my open pack toward her.
She carefully eyes it for a moment before looking up at me. "Five seconds with my Dad and already trying to set me up?"
I shrug my shoulders, not entirely sure what I say as I take a cigarette from the pack. "I might not condone your habits but I understand them. Having an absent parent weighs heavy on the soul."
Again, Takeda's 'Cupcake' eyes me before slowly pulling a cigarette from the pack as well. In a swift movement, I snap my pack closed and drop it back into my pocket. "Don't tell your dad," I grumble, fishing out my lighter. She nods in agreement, letting the roll of paper and tobacco rest between her lips. I cup the end of the stick before flicking the lighter on, letting the fire rest for a second before pulling away to do the same to mine.
I carefully watch her for a moment, observing the way she easily inhales the smoke before letting it leak out the corners of her mouth. It's a weird comparison. Such a young girl wrapped in a baby blue sundress, dripping in silver jewelry, and fading pink-tipped hair easily smoking a menthol cigarette. "You're just all sorts of issues, aren't you?" I ask, finally taking a drag of my smoke.
"What makes you say that?"
"'No drinking. No smoking. No weed. No boys,'" I mimic Takeda, pitching my voice higher to poke fun at my friend. "Plus the whole... Mom situation."
The girl rolls her eyes, her anger showing through in the way she sharply inhales her cigarette. "My Dad is a very anxious squirrel."
"A very anxious squirrel," I echo, finding enjoyment in the comparison.
She slowly nods her head in agreement, her eyes twirling in tune with the like of smoke swimming in the sky. "I occasionally smoke a little weed because it helps with the anxiety he gave me. It freaks him out. He thinks it's a gateway drug. Smoking is a bad habit I picked up on because of my 'oral fixation' as my therapist calls it. The drinking is just a high school party thing, you know?"
"Ya," I murmur, memories of my high school days running through my mind. I went to a party almost every weekend. Went to a game or practice hangover more times than I'd like to admit to. She shakes her head again, ashing the end of her smoke before sucking in more of the smoke. "And the 'boys' thing?"
I watch carefully as her jaw flexes, clenching and unclenching as she thinks over her words. "My boyfriend... my ex-boyfriend thought getting his dick sucked in the bathroom was a good way to spend time at the last party we went to together. So, I've spent the last two weeks flirting with his teammates."
I bite my tongue to hold back my laughter. The task gets harder when Takeda's Mini-Me shrugs her shoulders with a smile. "It's whatever. I win in the end seeing how some of his teammates are coming to my art exhibit tomorrow. I'm going to suck his greatest hated teammate off in the bathroom. I'll sure enjoy that. A get-back and a cute boy fumbling with his words? Beautiful."
"I can't let you do that," I tell her, managing to keep any humor out of my voice. The kid might have gotten Takeda's anxiety but she definitely got his optimism too. I've never seen a girl so joyful after a breakup.
"Why not?" She asks, smoke curling around her words.
That baby face of hers almost makes me want to rip the cigarette from her fingers, stomp the flame out, and yell at her for smoking, but I can't, seeing how I'm the one who gave her the smoke. "I'm responsible for you all weekend. I don't think your Dad would approve of you giving blowies to begin with, let alone on school grounds."
"I don't think he'd approve of his best friend standing outside his shop to share a smoke with me either."
What a little shit.