Haikyuu imagines

Worried- Sugawara

I didn't mean to hurt myself.

Really, I didn't.

But that stupid sprint to save the ball, the dive, the awkward twist of my ankle - it had to happen. And now I was sitting on the sidelines, ankle throbbing, socks soaked through with sweat, trying desperately not to grimace every time I shifted my weight.

I was fine. I was fine.

I kept repeating it in my head like a mantra, willing my brain to believe it.

Then Sugawara appeared.

From the moment he saw me hobbling, the calm, smiling captain-in-training demeanor he always carried evaporated. His eyes went wide. His eyebrows furrowed in that perfect mix of worry and frustration that made my stomach twist.

"Y/N," he said, voice sharp but quiet, like he was trying to keep his panic under control. "What the hell are you doing sitting out here like this? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I... didn't want to make a fuss," I muttered, wincing as I shifted again.

"Didn't want to make a fuss?" he repeated incredulously, crouching beside me. His hands hovered near my ankle like he was afraid I'd collapse if he touched it. "You're injured. That's not a fuss-that's your body screaming at you to stop! Do you even hear yourself right now?"

I tried to protest, but the sharp intake of his breath cut me off.

"You're limping like a wounded deer, and you're telling me you're fine?" he demanded, eyes blazing with that rare intensity I only ever saw when he was genuinely scared for someone.

"Really, it's not-"

"Not fine," he interrupted, louder this time, shaking his head. "Not fine is an understatement! Do you understand how reckless that was? You could've made it worse! Y/N!"

I sighed, dropping my head into my hands. Part of me wanted to argue, to reassure him, but another part of me was caught up in how frantic he looked-hands fidgeting, shoulders tensing, that way he chewed on his lower lip when he was panicked. I knew if I said the wrong thing, he'd just spiral further.

He crouched lower, his hands finally landing gently on my ankle. I flinched instinctively.

"Relax," he murmured, softening immediately as he examined it. "I'm not mad at you. Just... scared. Really scared."

"You don't have to be," I whispered, though my voice faltered. "I'll be fine."

He shook his head firmly. "No. I will not let you 'be fine' when you're clearly hurt. That's not responsible. That's not smart. And I don't care how stubborn you are-I will make you sit still."

"I'm not that hurt," I said weakly, trying to shift my ankle again and immediately regretting it.

He grabbed my hands in his, holding them firmly, stopping the movement. "Stop moving. That's an order," he said, his tone half-serious, half-teasing, but the worry never left his eyes.

I laughed a little, though it was shaky. "Sugawara..."

"You don't get to laugh at me right now," he said, narrowing his eyes in mock sternness. "You've been through worse, but that doesn't mean I can't worry!"

I let my head fall back against the bench, closing my eyes. "I just... I didn't want to ruin practice."

"You could have ruined yourself!" he said sharply. Then softer, almost guilty: "I mean... not that I care about practice being ruined, I just-You're not a robot. I can't stand watching you play like that when I know you're hurt."

I opened one eye to peek at him. He looked exasperated, jaw tight, eyebrows furrowed, but there was this softness in his gaze I'd only ever seen directed at teammates he cared about deeply. And me.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll let you help."

He gave a small, triumphant smile that quickly softened again into that familiar warmth he had. "Good. Don't test me," he murmured, pulling a first-aid kit out of his bag like a professional.

I watched, slightly embarrassed, as he knelt on the ground, carefully unrolling gauze and cleaning my scraped ankle with practiced hands. His touch was gentle but precise, lingering a little longer than necessary, like he couldn't help himself from making sure I was okay.

"You're bleeding," he said softly, dabbing at the scrape. "Did you even realize how much?"

"I... yeah, I guess," I admitted.

"That's a lot for someone who says they're fine," he said quietly. "I'm not angry-just... I don't want you to brush yourself off like this. You can be tough, but you don't have to pretend for me. Not ever."

I felt a lump in my throat. He wasn't lecturing me, exactly. He wasn't scolding me in a cruel way. It was concern. It was care. And it hit me harder than any anger could have.

"I... I just didn't want to seem weak," I whispered.

Sugawara shook his head, brushing his thumb gently over my skin. "Y/N, you're not weak. Not for a second. It's smart to take care of yourself. It's brave to admit you're hurt. And if anyone tells you otherwise, they're idiots."

I managed a small laugh, shaking my head. "That's you, though-you're always too nice."

"I'm just responsible," he said with a tiny smirk. Then he went completely serious again, eyes locking on mine. "And I'm responsible for looking out for my friends. That includes you."

I swallowed hard, overwhelmed.

He finished bandaging the ankle with careful precision, but his hands lingered, resting lightly over the top of the gauze, almost possessively. "There. Done. Try walking a little?"

I shifted carefully, testing the ankle. It hurt less than before-Sugawara's careful bandaging had stabilized it.

"See?" he said, relief flickering across his face. "You're okay. But listen-I mean it. No running. No jumping. No pretending you're invincible. Got it?"

"I... got it," I muttered.

He stood, offering his hand. "Good. Now, I'm taking you inside. You can't just sit out here nursing an injury and expect to be fine. I'll make tea, maybe even cookies if you want."

"Cookies?" I asked, barely suppressing a grin.

He grinned back, ruffling his hair. "What? I have to bribe you into rest somehow."

I let him help me up, leaning slightly on him as we walked inside. Every step reminded me that I was cared for-really cared for-and not in a casual, passing way. Sugawara's worry, his gentle scolding, his careful, lingering touches-it all spoke louder than words ever could.

Once we were inside, he helped me onto the couch and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. I leaned back, exhausted but... safe.

"Feeling better?" he asked softly, sitting beside me.

I nodded, finally allowing myself to relax. "Yeah... thanks."

He smiled warmly, brushing a stray hair from my forehead. "Of course. Always. Don't forget it-being responsible doesn't mean you have to do everything alone. Not ever."

I looked at him and realized I wouldn't ever want to be alone in this-injuries, pain, or anything. Not if he was around.

And in that quiet moment, with his hand resting lightly on mine, I felt something I hadn't expected: completely, utterly cared for.