Haikyuu Oneshots | ハイキュー！！

tsukishima kei

hello, lovelies <3

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❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

When we got married, and even before that, I knew there would be a few things that I'd be struggling with. But one thing I miscalculated was that I'd only struggle with a few things when there is in fact a lot more than I expected.

For example, cooking. I suck at cooking, but now that I'm married, I cannot be bad at it. Although we're both still in college and probably have no time to even do the simple things, I still have to cook for my husband who also works at night. I have to be at least the admirable wife for being able to support my husband with whatever he may choose to do.

But me trying to be more than what I am—that's all me. I chose to be more. He said he doesn't expect much from me, saying that he knows how I am. Terrible cook, not that intelligent, and not as capable as he is.

Which now leads me to saying that our marriage was a huge shock to the people who knew us. Though our families were very supportive and happy about our decision to marry, the outsiders criticized me a lot. Yes, me. Of course, I'd be the one to receive all the criticism. The incapable wife. And because of that, I decided to be more than what I already am. I have to be. If I become a mother someday, how will I be able to take care of them properly?

I finish wrapping the bento with the furoshiki, putting it away in his bag so he won't forget about it when he leaves for his classes. His classes start at 10 AM whereas mine starts at 2 PM. That gives me a chance to be the capable wife in the morning, helping him get ready, making him coffee and breakfast, and just being of help in the way that I can be of help.

He exits the bedroom fully clothed with his hair still wet. I flash him a smile as I walk past him to get to the bathroom, take one of the clean towels, and return to the kitchen. I tap his shoulder, and he turns to me, drinking water. I stand on my toes and reach for his hair, drying it thoroughly with the towel.

"You are going to catch a cold if you don't dry your hair, Kei," I scold him, and he just nods, putting his mug down on the kitchen counter. "I put the bento in your bag, and I brewed coffee. And for breakfast, I made you a sandwich. It's in the fridge."

"I told you, you don't have to make me a bento. The last time you made me omelettes, there were eggshells," he says, and I frown at his remark. I made omelettes for him again. I don't know if there are no eggshells this time. "You don't have to cook for me, (Y/n). I'll be fine." I stop drying his hair, still frowning when he doesn't show any sign of saying anything to cheer me up. "I'm late, so I'll just drink coffee later." He takes his bag from the chair and hurriedly puts his shoes on.

"But Kei, the sandwich?" I frantically hurry to get the sandwich from the fridge and run to him, offering it to him. "Come on, you have to eat."

"I'm late. I'll see you tonight," he says, giving me one last glance before exiting the house, and I stand here dumbfounded and upset.

I look at the sandwich in my hand and sigh. He probably doesn't want to eat it because everything I make tastes horrible. He doesn't expect anything of me, and somehow, that hurts more than having extreme expectations of me now that I'm his wife. It just feels like I'll never ever be of help.

I return to the kitchen, stopping in my tracks when I step on the towel I dried his hair with. I pick it up from the floor and stare at it for a long while before finally moving again to put it in the laundry. I try the sandwich I made, my eyes watering as I eat. It doesn't taste horrible. It's okay. But maybe after all of my failed attempts of cooking him something nice, he doesn't trust the food I make him anymore.