In My Demise / Haikyuu (Female Y/n x Osamu Miya)

Chapter 1 : Everyday Life As It Is

Y/n

Onigiri Miya is placed in Tokyo, conveniently where your pent house is placed. You're high above the ground, about twenty stories.

It's late in the evening by the time you've come home, after coming back from a shopping spree... and a car chase.

Before going into the hallway you check for any blood over the leather bag. Seeing none, you toss it aside onto the couch and walk into the hallway, getting to the end and to the master bedroom.

Then taking off your blazer, slinging it over the end of the bed post. It's drenched in dried blood, and still damp with the blood of the wound you have on your shoulder.

You turn to the mirror to work out the ugly laceration of the bullet graze. You have to angle your head back a bit to look at the back of your shoulder, leaving an uncomfortable crick in your neck muscles.

Oh your poor car too. You'll have to take it to the shop... or throw it away completely and get a new one.

Exhaling between your gritted tooth you opt to move to the bathroom. You'd rather not get the sheets dirty—blood is a pain to get out without hydrogen peroxide and you lack any currently.

Within the bathroom, you take paper towels from under the sink and with cleaning alcohol you dab at the wound. Luckily, it won't need any stitches, just a giant bandaid.

After cleaning up completely, you collapse onto your bed, without care of lifting up the blanket to completely snuggle under the comforter. You know you'll have to get up and get your phone anyway.

You get up, reluctantly, after a few minutes pass. Heading to the living room for your purse and on the way, retrieve the blazer that hung off the end of your bed.

There's ringing that gets louder and louder as you  get closer to your purse and with a final huff you snatch the phone out of the bag and press it to your ear after accepting the call.

"Yes?" You attempt to not snap, or at least sound somewhat bitchy. But you're temples have begun to ache and creak pain in your head whenever your jaw moves even subtlety. A sign that you haven't gotten enough sleep.

"Y/n, thank GOD your safe." Your cousin, the one from your step mom's side you haven't heard from in a long time. She isn't all in... the family business on your dad's side. But she dabbles, a bit.

"Shin?"

"I heard from... you know who, that your Mercedes' got totaled."

Oh yeah, the Benz.

"What about it?"

"So?" She urges. From the other side of the call, on her end, you hear ruffling, some papers and more shuffling.

"Nothing happened. Car crash."

"Lies. You haven't fucked up on something like a Benz since high school." Sheesh. You internally cringe, your stomach pitting against you. Making you want to curl up and shrivel.

You tuck the phone in between your shoulder and ear. "We all fuck up sometimes, yeah? Like your first marriage?"

She scoffs. "Fake." Not you, the marriage.