oya oya oya? | haikyu! one shots [ongoing]

gang! kuroo tetsuro: f*cked up

+a/n: as requested by EYDEL_ hope you like it!

this one-shot is written in a more dishevelled and confused state of mind. it's in the third person but i tried my best to mimic a narration by someone void of thinking straight. i tried :/

his breathing is heavy, his fist is bloody, his hair is more tousled than it is on a usual day. his grip on the sides of the sink tightens as he inhales deeply, letting out a shaky breath.

another fight,

again.

it's the third one in two weeks.

as he tries to wash the blood off his fist, he was desperately trying to whip up another excuse in his head to present to you. he had promised he wouldn't get into another fight but it was hard considering what he does.

he inhales sharply yet again, he doesn't even get this soft walking into a fight but it came to you, he was defenceless, vulnerable and exposed. that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he liked being able to confide in you, he loved that feeling of someone accepting and loving him for who he is.

but one thing you never accepted was the fights he got into. you hated seeing him covered in duplicated cuts and wounds, it pained you to even see him in that state and he was well aware of that.

that said, it was remarkably challenging to not engage in any fights.

he tries his best to wash any trace of blood off him but the cut on his lips and blow on his cheek stood out too much.

he shakes his head, attempting to snap out of his train of thought.

he had to see you, he really wanted to, he needed to.

he has been avoiding you for the last two weeks ever since he got into a fight. but he knew you would forgive him.

"you would, right?" he mutters to himself as he turned the doorknob of the washroom open. and with heavy footsteps, he makes his way to the cafe near the university you studied at. it's a friday evening and you would always be studying there.

as always, there you were, seated in your usual spot at the back of the cafe behind the barista's bar in your typical friday evening get-up — hoodie and jeans.

kuroo stands from afar as he stares at your figure.

your lecture notes were sprawled around the recycled notebook attacked with sticky tabs and bright neon-coloured marks. you were spinning your black pen between your fingers, your glasses perched upon the bridge of your nose.

behind the pair of glasses was a rather distressed and distracted expression.

kuroo knew really well that he was the cause of it. a sting of remorse and shame hits him in the chest, he shouldn't have blatantly ignored you like that.

his eyes followed you as you take off your glasses and rub your temples frustratedly right before you leaned back against the back of the bar chair.

he whips out his phone, sending a quick text message to you, watching your eyes widen the instant you glance at your phone you had left on top of your monthly planner.

hastily, you pick up your notes and books, tossing them into your white canvas tote bag.

leaving your half-finished mug of rosehip tea alone on the bar countertop as you frantically rushed out of the cafe, turning your head in multiple directions in a desperate attempt to look for your boyfriend.

"(f/n)," he calls from a distance, instantly making you snap your head in the direction of that oh-so-familiar voice you had long grown fond of.

kuroo turns his head away from you as you appeared in front of him, a faint gasp leaving your lips.

"it isn't as bad as it looks," he starts off, he had already forgotten the excuse he whipped out just now, "it'll get better, i'll get better soon, so—"

"oh just keep quiet, you," you exasperatedly said as you immediately reached out for one of his hands, gently running your fingers over the dried blood on his knuckles.

he glances down at you, watching as you struggled to pick out the shard of glass penetrated in his finger behind your glossy eyes and fogged up glasses.

you bit down harshly on your chapped lips, trying your best not to let the tears fall.

you could only let out soft sobs, the sound of a heart breaking. hearts don't snap like brittle caramel or burst like an overfilled balloon. a heart breaks in the heaving waves of a new disturbing reality that has arrived uninvited.

as he watched you shake with grief, tears flowing unchecked, there was part of him breaking too.

kuroo faces the wall, void of the will to even look you in the eye, his face creased and his right fist closed so tight he can feel the sweat trapped inside them. that's when he hears a sound that almost stops his heart.

"please?" you whisper, placing a hand tenderly on his cheek to make him face you, "please stop hurting yourself?"

your sobs were stifled at first as you attempted to hide your grief, then overcome by the wave of your emotions you would break down entirely, all your defences washed away in those salty tears.

when you at last turned your face to kuroo, you were nothing but a picture of pain, exhaustion, devastation.

ah, he fucked up.