Haikyuu imagines

Don't touch her- Kentaro

The hallway between fourth and fifth period is packed - bodies moving, lockers slamming, laughter echoing off the walls. I'm weaving my way toward my locker when I hear it:

"Y/N!"

I already regret turning around.

Takeru strides toward me with that swagger he thinks is attractive - chin lifted, shoulders back, ego spilling out of every step.

"Hey," he says, leaning on my locker like he owns it. "Been looking for you."

I try to open my locker, but he blocks the door with his hand.

"Okay," I mutter. "And I've been trying to avoid you. So we're even." He laughs like I made a joke. "I don't have time for this," I say, keeping my voice level.

"You never have time," he scoffs. "Why're you being difficult?"

I blink. "I told you. I'm not interested."

He laughs - an ugly, disbelieving sound. "You don't even know what you're saying."

"Actually," I snap, "I do."

His smile drops. Just a bit.

"Really?" he asks, stepping closer. "'Cause you didn't sound so sure when you smiled at me in chem last week."

I stare at him. "I smiled because you spilled sulfuric acid on yourself."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Look-"

He angles his body between me and the locker, forcing me to step back.

"I'm trying here," he says, voice tightening. "Most girls would kill for my attention."

"Then go give it to one of them," I fire back.

A couple students slow down to watch.

Takeru doesn't like that.

He leans in, voice lowering. "You think you're better than everyone? That it's funny to play hard to get?"

I take another step back. "You need to move."

"And you need to stop acting-"

He reaches out and grabs my wrist.

Hard.

Pain spikes up my arm.

I gasp. "Let go."

"No," he snaps, yanking me closer. "We're not done talking."

"I said LET GO-"

Something shifts in the air.

A ripple of tension.

A shadow stops beside us.

Then a low, animal sound vibrates through the hallway:

"...the hell do you think you're doing?"

Takeru turns, annoyed.

Bad mistake.

Kyotani Kentarō stands there - shoulders squared, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with something that looks a lot like barely restrained violence.

"Oh great," Takeru scoffs, tightening his grip on me, "the psycho dog is here."

Kyotani doesn't react to the insult.

He reacts to Takeru's hand on me.

His stare drops to my wrist.

His breath shortens.

His fists curl.

"Let. Her. Go."

Takeru laughs. "Relax, man. We're talking."

Kyotani steps forward.

Not fast. Not loud.

Just inevitable.

"You don't get to touch her," he growls, voice dangerously steady.

"Oh yeah?" Takeru challenges. "And who's gonna stop m-"

Kyotani is inches from him in an instant.

I've never seen someone go still so fast.

Kyotani leans in, lips barely moving, voice a razor hidden in velvet:

"Let go before I break something you actually use."

Takeru releases me so quickly I nearly stumble.

Kyotani's hand shoots out-catching me by the waist, steadying me without looking away from Takeru.

And that's when Takeru finally seems to realize:

Kyotani isn't bluffing. Not even a little.

"This is bullshit," Takeru mutters, backing up. "She's not even your-"

Kyotani's jaw ticks.

Takeru swallows his words and bolts.

The hallway bursts into whispers. A few people stare. Most pretend they didn't witness a murder almost happen.

Kyotani turns to me, breathing deep, trying to come down from whatever instinct took over.

"You okay?" he asks, voice rougher than the scuffle deserved.

"I'm-yeah. Thank you."

"He shouldn't touch you," he mutters.

"Well, yeah. I didn't want him to."

He reaches for my wrist but stops an inch short.

"Can I?" he asks quietly.

I nod.

His fingers brush the red marks Takeru left. Kyotani's jaw clenches so hard I hear his teeth grind.

"He hurt you."

"It just stings. I'm fine."

His eyes lift to mine - intense, unreadable, but softer around the edges.

"He touches you again," Kyotani murmurs, "I won't stop at a warning."

My breath catches.

"Ken... why do you care so much?"

He takes a step closer.

Close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek. Close enough that his voice is only for me.

"I don't like people putting their hands on something I want to protect."

"Something?" I echo, flustered.

His gaze drops to my lips.

"Someone."

My cheeks burn. "You... want to protect me?"

He swallows once, hard. "I want you safe. With me."

I can't breathe for a second.

Then-

"Walk you to class?" he asks.

"That's not where your class is."

He shrugs, fighting a smirk. "Didn't ask."

And when he holds out his hand- hesitant but hopeful-

I take it without thinking.

Kyotani's fingers tighten around mine, protective even in the softest touch.