Haikyuu imagines

Who did this?- Ushijima

You don't mean to run. You don't even realize you are running.

Not until you're halfway across the gym hallway, breath tight, fingers trembling so hard you can barely hold your bag.

You thought today would be normal.

You thought you could watch his practice without issue.

But Ushijima's fan girls had other plans.

You weren't even out of the bleachers before they cornered you behind the equipment room - three of them, all older, all smiling in that way that isn't actually a smile.

"So you're the new manager?" one of them coos.

"No," you say quickly, adjusting your sleeves. "I'm just watching-"

"Right," another girl cuts in. "Because you and Wakatoshi are so close, right?"

You stiffen. Your eyes dart away.

They notice.

One steps in close - too close - grabbing your wrist, leaning in with a poisonous sweetness.

"Listen. We get it. He's famous now. Everyone wants a piece of him. But don't get comfortable. Girls who get too close to him tend to... disappear."

Your stomach twists. You yank your arm back, voice trembling:

"I'm his sister."

They stop.

Blink.

Then they look at each other.

And laugh.

"Oh, that's adorable," one mocks. "You think using his name will protect you?"

"She's shaking," another says, delighted. "She's actually scared- look at her."

You shove past them, holding in tears until you round a corner and they can't see you anymore.

By the time you reach the gym doors, your breath is gone.

You push them open-

And slam right into someone's chest.

You look up.

Ushijima stands there, still in his practice shirt, sweat on his brow, brows pinched the second he sees your face.

"Y/N?" His voice is low. Too steady. Too calm.

That's when you realize:

You're shaking.

You try to hide your hands, but he gently catches your wrists in his big palms.

His eyes narrow.

"Who did this?"

Your throat locks.

"Toshi- it's fine-"

"No," he says immediately. Firm. Unmovable. Deadly calm.

"Tell me who touched you."

The seriousness in his voice cracks something inside you. A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it.

He releases your wrists just long enough to cup your face with surprising gentleness.

"Look at me."

You do.

His jaw tightens when he sees the faint marks where that girl grabbed you.

"You're hurt," he says quietly. But quiet with him is worse than shouting.

You swallow.

"It was... some of your fans."

His expression doesn't change at first.

Then it shifts - slowly, deliberately - into something hard.

Something lethal.

"Stay here, Tendo, watch her." Tendo looked back at his friend confused, walking over to you anyway.

"Toshi-"

"Stay. Here."

You tense. "Don't make this worse-"

He turns toward the hallway. "Worse is what they did to you."

"Wait, what happened?" You looked at Tendo with pleading eyes before your brother.

You grab his sleeve.

"Toshi, please- just talk to them-"

He looks back at you, eyes sharp gold.

"I am not going to hurt them," he says simply. "I'm going to make sure they never breathe in your direction again."

You try to speak, but he gently pushes your hand back toward your chest.

Then he walks down the hallway with that steady, terrifyingly calm stride-

Straight toward the corner where the girls still linger.

"What happened to your-oh." Tendo's face fell as realization hit. "Oh boy."

You hear one of them scoff:

"Oh, Wakatoshi- we were just-"

He stops right in front of them.

"You touched my sister."

Dead silence.

Their faces drain of blood.

"S-sister?" the bold one stammers.

He leans slightly forward - not threatening, just towering. Immovable.

"You will not approach her again," he says evenly. "You will not speak to her. You will not look at her. If you do..." His eyes narrow. "You will deal with me."

They scatter like he detonated a bomb.

Ushijima returns to you, eyes softening the moment he sees your face again.

He takes your hand gently - carefully, like it might bruise.

"You should have told me sooner," he murmurs.

"I didn't want to cause trouble," you whisper.

"You are never trouble."

Your chest tightens.

He squeezes your hand once, firm and grounding.

"Let's go home. Thank you, Tendo."

"For what?"

And with that, he leads you out of the gym, walking half a step in front of you - as if shielding you from the world itself.