Haikyuu imagines

Not another face in the crowd- Akaashi

I didn't even mean to come today.

Honestly, I'd spent the whole morning telling myself I wouldn't - I'd stay home, avoid the noise, avoid the memories, avoid him. But even as the arguments looped through my head, my feet were tying my shoes, grabbing my jacket, walking straight toward the damn train station like muscle memory outvoted logic.

Old habits die hard. Apparently, so do old hurts.

By the time I made it to the arena, my hoodie was pulled low, my head was down, and I'd picked a seat so far off to the side it barely counted as watching. I could see the court, but no one could really see me. Perfect.

The crowd roared as the Jackals jogged out, and like an involuntary twitch, my eyes snapped straight to him - Bokuto. Bright smile, loud laugh, bouncing on his toes like the entire world was made of pure adrenaline.

Just like always.

He didn't look up my way. He never did anymore.

My chest tightened. I looked away.

I didn't come here for him. I came because... I don't know. Because once upon a time I belonged here. Because a part of me still missed what it felt like to scream myself hoarse cheering the moment his number hit the court. Because I missed the excitement, the team, the stupid inside jokes, the shared lunches after practice.

Because I missed him, even if I hated that I did.

The whistle blew. The match began.

The Jackals played beautifully - Hinata soaring, Sakusa sniping impossible angles, Atsumu yelling something half-inspiring half-insulting across the court. And Bokuto... shining like a goddamn sunbeam in fluorescent lighting.

I tried watching without feeling. That lasted maybe ten whole seconds.

Then I felt someone's gaze. Heavy. Intent.

My eyes shifted cautiously.

Akaashi.

Of course.

He stood near the rotation box, waiting for his sub timing - and staring directly at me like he'd seen a ghost.

My stomach dropped. Shit.

He blinked once, slow and deliberate, like he needed a second to make sure I was really there and not a trick of the lights.

Then he looked away.

Except... he didn't.

Akaashi never looked twice at anything unless it mattered, but he kept glancing. Subtle flicks of his eyes every few plays. Noticing. Assessing. Recognizing the gap where my cheers should've been.

I sank deeper into my seat.

Halftime came quick. The players jogged toward the corridor, towels slung over their shoulders. I kept my gaze down, scrolling aimlessly on my phone, pretending I wasn't hyper-aware of every step coming closer.

The footsteps stopped.

Right in front of me.

I didn't have to look up to know who it was - his quiet presence was unmistakable. Careful. Observant. Still.

"(Y/N)."

His voice was soft, but my name sounded too loud in my ears.

I exhaled slowly, then lifted my gaze.

Akaashi stood there with a towel draped around his neck, hair slightly damp from sweat, expression calm but eyes... sharp. Searching. Concerned.

"Akaashi. Hey." My voice came out small.