breaking and entering (yandere! Kuroo x fem reader)

13 || death word

You quietly paced around the bleachers, hands crossed over your oversized blue cardigan as you observed the boys on the volleyball team run from one side of the gym to the other. You liked catching their mistakes - something in their occasional clumsiness ignited your wild competitiveness. And you never tried to help the poor Nekoma boys, instead, you just clandestinely conveyed the gathered pieces of information to Oikawa.

But something that day was really off: Nekoma's sturdy balance was somehow shaken, and it showed painfully in their weak game. The players all looked on edge, with the captain even refusing to talk to some of his teammates; that lack of communication and the boys' tiredness all contributed to breaking the usual serene environment of the gym, so it was no surprise when they decided to wrap up early.

You saw Fukunaga eyeing you from across the gym, a little playful smile gracing his lips despite the exhaustion. He jogged slightly to reach you, already stretching an arm to pull your head and smother you in his sweaty armpit.

You struggled to push him away, slightly slapping his arm to get it off your face, "ew, let me breathe!"

He chuckled lazily, letting himself fall on the bleachers to catch his breath. He let his long legs take up a wide space in front of him, his shoulders kinda curving in as he just stared into an undefined spot on the rubbery ground. His black hair sat flat on his face, the damp bangs almost pricking at the pale skin of his forehead, and his lips hung slightly agape, in a pretty rosy tint that stood out among the rest of his features.

You smiled at the sight, your hand almost automatically going in to pet his hair.

And Shohei smiled again, fixing his dark eyes on you. "Are we gonna make out now."

"I mean," you flicked his head, "if you insist."

You threw him his water bottle, then also took a seat close to your best friend, "what's the matter with your captain?" you asked then, intently staring at the tan boy standing so far away from where the rest of the players crowded, "Oh, and why isn't he with Kenma? Aren't they always together?"

"Well," Fukunaga gulped down a big sip of water, "Kuroo's been acting weird in general lately. You know, picking at the players and always trying to fight kinda shit. And nobody knows what's going on between him and Kenma." He paused, and in the meantime you scooted closer to him, suddenly struck with a bad feeling in your gut.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but you see the bruises around Kenma's neck?" Fukunaga lowered his voice, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You searched for the tiny blonde among the others, and when you found him, it was with a big surprise and a weight weighing down your stomach that you also detected the already purplish tint on his neck.

"What happened to him?"

"I don't know exactly, nor do I wanna throw around false accusations," your best friend seemed way more serious than his usual, his features almost mature now, "but Kuroo's hands are also full of scratches."

You gulped.

Could that mean that...?

No. No, you shook that idea off. As Fukunaga said, that was nothing but a wild guess. Even if you weren't really acquainted with the boy, you just couldn't bring yourself to believe such a thing. Yes, he was weird, overly affectionate, and maybe sometimes suffocating. But him hurting his best friend?

Never. He resembled Oikawa so much in your eyes, that you couldn't really even just imagine such a scene unraveling.

You looked back at Fukunaga, a half-pensive smile stretching your lips, "I don't know..."

"Yeah," he agreed with you, absently nodding a few times, "it's dumb. I don't think so too."

He got up from the bench and patted your head, signaling that he was going to get changed. You nodded and observed as he walked away slowly, his feet loudly shuffling on the ground.