UNDERDOG | haikyuu x f!reader

JESUS SAID IT'S BAPTISM TIME

jesus said it's baptism time
she snatched a wig and impressed some dorks

It's been approximately under an hour since you've stepped foot in Karasuno, and you already wanted to die.

Let's recap a bit.

Two months were filled with nothing but insomnia and you questioning your existence in the dead of the night. You remember getting banned for two months from some convenient stores you can't remember the names of even if your life depended on it. The mad giggling you did when you successfully shoplifted a candy bar, and how it stopped when the shadow of the store manager loomed over you.

Or how you bought - more like stole but sis didn't succeed - bird seeds for a brewing master plan you have. Which in return, bit you in the ass as they denied you access to the train for two months.

You, all in all, were thriving.

But it comes to a halting stop when you had forgotten to set the alarm for your first day in school, two weeks after everyone else, thus leading you to hurry the fuck up and sprint all the way to Karasuno with a bedhead that can nest a couple of birds and a bag that almost spilled out all its contents when you almost toppled over due to a goddamn pebble.

Which leads you to where you are now.

A hand cupping the bottom half of your face as you struggle to fight with your oncoming laughter. A wig traveling in the air, the principal standing in front of you, the rays of the sun reflecting off of his bald head - shiny -, it almost made your teary eyes squint.

The art student, you guessed when you saw the apron with drips and splatters of varying colors of dried paint, stands off to the side. They dropped the can of paint they had been holding and just stares in shock with mouth agape. Finally, as if it was all planned, the wig finally made its way down and -

Splat!

- and onto the open can of paint, successfully submerging in the color of cherry red that kinda resembles the principal's scrunching face with steam escaping his ears and oh god, oh fuck-

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

A trip to the principal's office, an atonement for your sins, two weeks of cleaning duties, and two hours later, you were finally able to make your way towards your classroom, knowing full well it's already the second subject.

But that doesn't stop you, no, momma didn't raise no pussy.

Worn out budget tennis shoes hits the polished floor in an erratic manner, tap-smack, as you tried to at least make yourself presentable so no more people would be exposed to your atrocious bed head; an art student and the principal seeing it was enough to last for a whole year.