Haikyuu x Reader ⇹ One Shots

Tempo ↠ Kageyama Tobio

Note: THIS IS A PREVIEW OF A CHAPTER OF A KAGEYAMA X READER FANFIC (That i havent posted yet) IM WRITING. It's not complete, but this preview is pretty lenghty at 3.5k+ words. I'm barely gonna edit this one here. I'm going to edit and continue writing this on the full story (I'm not sure when I'll post it- probably once I finish the writing whole story idk)

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(Y/LastN) (Y/FirstN) wasn't much of a sports person. No, she wasn't fond of getting sweaty, or chasing after balls, or catching one's breath. She simply was not meant to be an athlete, she would say.

(Y/FN) was more of a music person. But she wasn't restricted to just listening to songs through her earphones. She was more than that. She was a musician.

Such soft and delicate hands were never meant to spike volleyballs, or to swing rackets. They were more useful towards playing sweet melodies on musical instruments. Fingers playing keys on the piano, hands holding on to a violin- rather than shooting threes into a basketball hoop.

Her ears weren't accustomed to loud cheers of "Let's Do This!", "Nice Serve!", or "Time Out!". The (Hair/Colour) haired girl much preferred hearing the lovely voices of her favourite artists. The beat of her metronome was much better than the not at all synchronized sound of the ball hitting the court, or the whistling of referees, or the annoying buzzers.

She could never be a coach, or manager, either. Not even a supporter. Her voice was used to sing, or to instruct others on how to play an instrument. (Y/FN) wasn't tactical enough to give game plans.

In a way, (Y/LN) (Y/FN) detested sports. What beauty was there in it? Where is the harmony? The unity? She would ask herself often those questions, only to have no answer in the end to give to herself.

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The young female was not so delighted when she was informed that she had to watch a bunch of sweaty men toss balls above nets. "(Y/FN)-chan, we're going to leave the house in a while. You're going to watch some Volleyball tournaments with Dad and I." Her older brother told (Y/FN), and she cursed mentally.

Sitting on the bleachers, she knows she would not need to be there if it weren't for the fact that her father and brother were such sports enthusiasts.

"Couldn't you two have gone on your own?" The (eye/colour) eyes girl complains quietly, causing the eldest (Y/LN) family member to chuckle. "Oh, lighten up, kiddo. You're too much like your mother.."

Ah, yes, mother. It's been a while since (Y/FN) has last seen her in person. But through videos of mother's performances, and news articles, she knows that her mother is as she remember. The same (h/c) hair she had, the same eyes.. The only difference is that the older woman's smile seems more genuine than her own. Less formal, and polite, and distant.

Many say that the famous musician's daughter was almost a carbon copy of her. (Y/LN) (Y/FN) was a music lover as well, after all. A metronome of all things would be her 7 year old self's ideal toy.

The girl replies to her father. "I know. I've been told." But it seems her response is ignored, in favour of the game that is about to take place in a matter of minutes. The two men she is sandwiched in between cheer loudly for the younger one's school- Aoba Josai.

"The game hasn't even started yet.." She grumbles. Darn her low battery cellphone. Her eyes shift from her lap, to the court. The teams were simply warming up, but (Y/LN) (Y/FN) is already hit with a flash of realization.