Haikyuu imagines

Protective- Semi

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

You'd spent the whole week trying to convince yourself this date would be good - that the guy your coworker set you up with would be decent, respectful, maybe even sweet.

Instead, you were standing outside the café, arms crossed, stomach twisted, while he raised his voice at you over something stupid.

"It's not that complicated," he snapped. "I just asked you to stop interrupting me when I'm telling a story. God, do you always do that?"

You blinked, stunned. "I wasn't interrupting. I just-"

"Oh, so now you're arguing with me? Seriously?" He scoffed loudly. "Unbelievable."

The humiliation stung. People were starting to stare.

You wanted to disappear.

And then-

You heard footsteps. Firm, fast, purposeful.

"Semi?" you breathed when he appeared beside you.

Semi Eita didn't look angry often. But right now? He looked absolutely livid.

His jaw was tight, hands clenched at his sides, eyes dark with something sharp and protective.

Your date turned. "And who are you supposed to be?"

Semi didn't answer him.

He stepped closer to you, just enough that your shoulder brushed his arm - a silent check-in.

Are you okay? You shook your head just a little.

His expression hardened.

Then he turned fully to the guy and asked, voice low and razor-edged:

"Why does he get to talk to you like that?"

Your date frowned like he'd been personally insulted. "Excuse me?"

"No," Semi said, stepping forward once. "I'm asking a serious question. Why does he get to raise his voice at you? Why does he think he can belittle you in public?" His tone was calm, but it simmered with anger you'd never heard before. "Who the hell gave you the right?"

Your date bristled. "I don't need permission to talk to my date-"

"She's not your anything," Semi cut in. "And she sure as hell doesn't deserve to be spoken to like that."

Your date rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. What are you, her boyfriend?"

You opened your mouth - you didn't even know what to say.

But Semi spoke before you could.

His voice dropped lower.

More honest.

More vulnerable.

"No..." Your breath caught.

Semi swallowed hard, but he didn't back down.

"I've known her for years," he said quietly. "I've seen her laugh, cry, work herself sick, and still care about everyone around her. She's one of the best people I've ever met." His eyes flicked to yours for just a second - and that one second made your heart flip. "So when someone treats her like she's nothing? Yeah. I'm going to say something."

Your date scoffed, muttered something rude, and stormed off - it didn't matter. He wasn't the center of this moment anymore.

The air felt still after he left.

Heavy.

Charged.

You turned to Semi slowly. "Eita..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking like the shy teenage boy you used to study with. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't have said that. It just- it pissed me off seeing you with someone like him."

You stepped closer.

"How long?" you whispered.

He looked confused. "How long what?"

"How long have liked me?"

Semi exhaled like the truth had been clawing its way out for years.

"...Since the first time I heard you talk about music and realized I wanted to hear your voice every day for the rest of my life."

Your heart nearly broke from the softness of it.

"Eita," you said again, this time reaching for his hand.

He froze - then melted when your fingers intertwined with his.

"Take me home?" you asked gently.

His eyes softened, anger gone, replaced by something warm and full.

"Yeah," he murmured, giving your hand a squeeze. "I'll always take you home."

And as he walked you away from the worst date of your life, you realized something:

Maybe it had always been him.