Kageyama felt something in him clench in fear as the tiny redhead opposite him placed a hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head. His eyes were glittering with something unnatural, and Kageyama could barely remember the conversation, frightened as he was by a fellow middleschooler.
In the volleyball match the little thing in green had leapt out of nowhere, like a little speed demon.
This didn't change in Karasuno, and neither did Hinata's scary face, the one where he could turn knees to jelly and make stomachs curdle unpleasantly at the threat of what he was, what he could be.
Kageyama knew Hinata would be special, was special, and woe to anyone who tried to separate number nine from his number ten.
Hinata was intimidating when he wanted to be.
Kageyama was just intimidating full stop. And not in the way that excited, but in the way that frightened.
As much as he beat on Hinata, Hinata was his.
Or, Kageyama amended, watching as Hinata 'swished' and 'guwoahed!' at the very least, he would be
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That Number Ten
Fan fikciaHinata, while small and unassuming, can also be intense and intimidating, especially while on the court. For some people (read: a lot of people) this is somehow attractive. Case in point, this is the third time in a month that Daichi is forced to sh...
