❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑. ❞
The L/N name is one that one should hold highly. A family of elitists that specialize in volleyball, and Y/N L/N is no excep...
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"CRY ALL YOU NEED TO, YOU'VE BEEN STRONG FOR US - NOW LET'S HELP YOU."
•••
Y/N exhaled, her breath was quite icy in the warm gym. She sat there, eyes empty, arms limp, she was broken within minutes of the final whistle of the game.
You know you could've done better.
She told herself.
Maybe if you had practiced more topspin serves with the team, they would be ready for Oikawa's ones.
Everything else was inaudible, the teams quiet cries, Seijoh's burst of joy, the footsteps walking to the line. She couldn't hear any of it within her little own crumbling world she had so desperately tried escaping from roughly a year ago
"THANK YOU FOR THE GAME..."
Within her own headspace, Y/N was a wreck. However to the outside world, Y/N had a blank face.
Her inner demons fighting to break free, her open consciousness trying to keep her safe.
"It's our fault this happened."
The conversation was fuzzy, like something straight from an old cassette tape from the 80's.
"It's not, ̶y̶/̶n̶ don't listen to them."
She covered her ears, whimpering. She wanted the two voices to stop fighting. She blamed herself for the loss. Maybe if she had tried a little harder...
"look what you're doing, ̶a̶k̶k̶i̶..."
" ̶t̶e̶n̶s̶h̶i̶ just let me go. she's obviously struggling."
"she's not going to gain any help from you, ̶a̶k̶k̶i̶"
"Make it stop..." Y/N sobbed quietly, sitting back down on the bench. Her fingertips digging into her scalp.
The team watched idly, wondering what was happening to the poor Angel who was soon going to grow her own pair of horns.
̶"̶l̶/̶n̶-̶c̶h̶a̶n̶?̶"̶
The outside world sounded like static to her, an annoying television static on an never ending loop. She hated it.
