Cellphone no. Kenhina ship [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 7: 3rd January 20xx

TW warning: smut and abuse

Hinata POV:
We're back to school! I made sure to put some plasters on my arms and legs that were still healing. Not a lot, but still some. I usually cover up my cuts or bruises to avoid questions. As I am walking to school, I wonder why am I still alive. Who do I do it for? I make a mental note to get some anti-depressants on the way home, if things get worse.

In volleyball practice in the morning, at school:

There's more than one reason why I like volleyball. It keeps my mind off unpleasant thoughts while just having to focus on the ball. As much as I like the tiny giant title, volleyball gives me an excuse to not go home. We are currently playing a 6v6 match. First team is Sugawara-senpai,Daichi-senpai, Asahi-san, Narita-senpai, Kinoshita-senpai and Ennoshita-senpai, 2nd team all the first years except Yachi plus Noya and Tanaka. We start playing our 6v6. We won, but the first years suddenly stared at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Shoyo, are you okay? You seemed out of sorts today." Noya asked.

"um-I'm fine."

"Really? Then explain why you have plasters on your arms and legs."Kageyama glared but his eyes shone with concern.

"Yeah, I fell down. Don't worry, I'm fine." I replied with a smile. Being the idiotic group, they started chattering on the way back to class,

Truth to be told, I really wanted someone to care. Like to understand my family situation, not just to be friends.But yet I didn't want to worry my friends. In that moment, I felt myself split apart into a demon and an angel. The angel said that it was fine to tell them, and they would assist me towards a better future. The demon interjected by saying they wouldn't care and scorn upon how weak I was. The argument got more heated and soon, all I could hear was their voices.

"...Dumbass! Hinata Dumbass!" Kageyama shouted.

I snapped out of my thoughts and asked the first-years to go ahead first as I needed the toilet. There they went, unknowingly innocent beings. I wish to be like them, free from my boundaries. Like a bird. I stepped out of the toilet as I trotted behind them, keeping them from my depressing thoughts, away and away.

Time flew by in school, and it was volleyball practice again. I put on my smile, tried my best and everyone seemed pleased. So far so good. I stayed back to continue playing volleyball with Kageyama. We played until Daichi-senpai chased us home. I didn't go home right away though. I got some anti-depressants from the convenience store. Stepping into the door, I braced myself for the worse. It came, harder than I expected.

"Shoyo! Dinner!Now!" My father screeched at me.

Sighing , I put down my bag and started preparing dinner. It was silent during dinner., as usual. After dinner, it was time for my punishment. I didn't know what I was being punished for, but my father managed to dig up some reasons why I should get punished and more often than not, it was the truth. I really was cowardly to not stand up for myself, but I didn't want any other inflicted pain. Today he brought me to his room and open my mouth. He started stripping and stuffed his dick into my mouth. Of all the things, oral sex. He had disgusting taste. I tried to push him away but he grabbed my hair.

"Now,now,be a good boy. You better be, I'm not done yet."

I complied to his orders eventually,asking me to swallow his cum. Bitter. Moving on he used knives and irons. Knives that cut my stomach and irons that burned my back. It was living hell. He used to do this to my mother, until I discreetly moved her and my sister out. After it had all ended, he collapsed and passed out due to the drinks he had in the club in the day probably. I headed to my room. Tears welled in my eyes as I took a few anti-depressants. What did I do to deserve this? If I did, I wish someone could tell me. Unable to hold back the great tide of emotions, I cried with all my remaining strength.

cc to the artists

Wiping away my tears, I started attempting my homework. It was difficult as I had zoned out during class. I was thinking of calling Tsukishima but accidentally called Kenma instead. 

"Shoyo? Why did you call me?"

"Ah! Kenma! I'm sorry, I meant to call Tsukishima for homework."

"That salty beanpole won't let you copy. Do you want me to help you? I'm a second year so I should be able to help you. But if you still want to call Tsukishima it's fine by me."

"no,no, thanks for the offer. So can you teach me?"

"Sure."

Time flew by as it was quite easy to understand Kenma's method, despite constantly playing games, he was smart and a good teacher.

"That should be enough for now, Shoyo. I have to go, so call me if you need anything."

"I will, I promise! Thanks for all the help, Kenma!"

"See you."

"Later!"

Although I knew there was more to come, I couldn't help but feel happy that someone still cared for me. Even though he was teaching me a subject I disliked, I still enjoyed his company, away from this house.

Kenma POV:

When I hung up from the call, I actually didn't need to go anywhere except to pretend to sleep for Kuroo. I imagined how Shoyo looked like while I taught, however, I wasn't sure if it was just me or that Shoyo seemed a bit sad. Maybe because of school? I didn't know why I was constantly getting an ominous feeling from him. I blushed to see him free from his worries. Wait.. If I'm blushing, am I gay? But I already sent of my parcel to my soulmate last year. Was there a rule that we were bound only to our soulmates. All this thinking made my head hurt so I went to bed.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡

Hello, A/n chan here. I'm sorry that I changed my writing style to more words but I hope you'll continue reading. This chapter had a lot of research done on types of abuse so I hope you enjoy it. If you are being ill treated by anyone, feel free to write in the comments and I'll try to give some advice. Stay safe!

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡