Affectionate Hearts - Yamaguchi x Reader (Haikyuu Soulmate AU)

Evening Star

Hello!

I opened my window and whispered.

How are you?

Alone in my room, with no one.

Morning!

The morning has arrived, with a heavy downpour.

Tick-tock.

Someone please rewind my spring for me.

- Hello/How Are You, Hatsune Miku

-

When was the first time you held hands with somebody?

You wouldn't remember, but the first time you 'held hands' with somebody was when you wrapped your tiny fingers around your mother's thumb when you were born. She cradled your little, delicate body, draped in a towel, as you softly gripped her thumb while you were sleeping.

"Isn't she beautiful?", she wearily whispered, gazing at her newborn daughter lovingly.

Your father pulled his chair closer to your mother's hospital bed and gently circled his large finger around your much smaller palm; the one that wasn't wrapped around your mother's first digit. Your fingers curled around his, and he caressed your chubby cheek and gave you a peck on the forehead.

"She is", he smiled.

The next time, which you also wouldn't remember, was when you were learning to walk. You were giggling wildly and tottering up and down the living room, clinging onto your parents' hands as they showered you with encouragement.

"You can do it, sweetheart!".

"You're doing so well!".

You'd often tumble down onto cushions which were carefully placed on the floor to prevent you from getting hurt.

But soon enough, you were able to walk on your own. Without the need to hold anyone's hand.

And the next time, you remember rather vividly. When you were four, five, six years old, maybe even a couple of years older, your parents would take you to the park on the weekends. They'd stroll alongside you and swing you up whilst you held their hands.

If they took you to the park in the spring or the summer, you'd pick a bunch of daisies and give them to your mother as a present, then sprinkle them all over her hair while you were laughing away. Sometimes you and your family would sit on a picnic blanket and your mother would teach you how to make daisy chains as you sat in your father's lap. You'd get upset when you struggled to successfully make a daisy chain, but she'd comfort you and finish the chain for you. She'd place it on your head and hold your grubby hands to cheer you up, and it worked every time, as you'd be all smiles again in no time.

If they took you to the park in autumn, you'd wander through the gold and brown leaves which would crinkle under your feet. You'd scoop up a bunch of leaves and playfully throw them in the air and your parents would try and duck out of the way to avoid the avalanche of leaves. Then your father would grab you and throw you onto his broad shoulders as you gleefully kicked your legs. You'd tightly hold on to his rough hands so you wouldn't fall backwards. He'd run in circles around your mother, who'd be chirpily chortling at her husband and daughter having fun. And in the car ride home, you'd doze off after an adventurous day.

The first person you held hands with who wasn't your parents, was (F/N). It was the first day of elementary school, and you were sat on the bench in the playground at lunchtime, alone. Being the very first day of school, you were jittery and intimidated, and too shy to mix with your new classmates. You had no idea what to do, so you simply sat there, twiddling your fingers. Your feet barely touched the floor, so your short legs dangled freely off the bench's edge. You gazed at the other children intently, desperate to join in, but unsure how.