Haikyuu imagines

he hits you- Iwaizumi

You knew Iwaizumi was stressed.

Everyone did.

Exams, volleyball pressure, Oikawa blowing up his phone every two hours - it was building, layer after layer, until he was practically vibrating with tension.

But today?

Today he came home already angry.

Slamming the door. Running his hand through his hair. Breathing too hard.

You sit up from the couch slowly.

"Haji? Everything okay?"

He doesn't answer at first. Just drops his backpack so hard it echoes.

Then he snaps.

"At least someone had a good day."

You blink. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he growls, pacing, "you get to sit here relaxing while everything keeps falling apart for me!"

Your stomach twists - because that isn't him. He never talks to you like that.

"Haji... I didn't do anything wrong."

He whirls around.

"You never do anything wrong, right?!"

The accusation stings hard.

"That's not fair."

"NOTHING has been fair!" he shouts, louder than you've ever heard him. "I'm trying so fuckin' hard and it's NEVER ENOUGH!"

You step closer. Big mistake.

Because he throws his hands up - dramatic, frustrated, not meant for you.

But you move right into his reach at the exact wrong moment.

And his palm hits your cheek.

Just a small impact. Barely forceful.

But the sound is awful.

And the look on his face?

Absolute horror.

His eyes widen. His whole body goes still. His voice drops to a whisper:

"...Y/N?"

You touch your cheek, stunned - not from pain, but from surprise.

"Haji," you say softly. "I'm okay."

He blanches.

"No- no, you're not- I hit you- I hit you- fuck, I didn't mean to- please don't- I'm so sorry-"

"Haji." You step closer.

He steps back, shaking.

"Don't- I can't- I could've- I didn't see you- fuck- I swore I'd never-"

You grab his hands before he can pull away.

He flinches at the contact.

"Haji. Look at me."

He lifts his eyes, terrified.

"I'm not hurt," you say. "And I'm not leaving."

His breath catches in his throat.

"But I- I touched you- in anger-"

"You lashed out at the air. I walked right into it. It was an accident."

He shakes his head violently. "That doesn't make it okay."

"No," you agree. "It doesn't."

His shoulders tense, ready for you to walk away.

"But you are."

He breaks.

His face crumples as he sinks onto the couch, burying his hands in his hair.

"I'm so tired," he whispers. "Everything's so damn heavy. I feel like if I slow down, I'll fall apart. And now I- I hurt you. The one person I'm supposed to protect."

You sit beside him, pulling his hands from his face.

"Haji. You don't have to protect me from you. You just have to talk to me."

His voice cracks.

"I'm scared. I've never been this stressed. I feel like no matter how hard I work, it's not enough. And I- I took it out on everything around me. I didn't even see you."

You cup his cheek - purposely, gently, to show you're not afraid.

"Haji," you murmur, "accidents happen. You didn't intend to hurt me."

"I'd rather break my own hand than lay it on you," he whispers, and it comes out so broken it hurts.

"I know," you say. "That's why I'm still here."

He finally leans into your touch. Finally breathes.

"Come here," you whisper.

He does - folding into you like he hasn't allowed himself to in months, arms wrapping around your waist, forehead pressed to your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into your neck. "I swear I'll never let it get that far again."

"I know, Hajime."

"And I love you," he adds, voice rough.

You smile softly, threading your fingers through his hair.

"I love you too."

His breathing evens. His hands stop trembling. And for the first time all day, he lets himself feel safe.

With you.