haikyuu oneshots

ushijima - blame game

this one shot was inspired by the movie good will hunting!

"Hey, look at me." Sure, his face almost looks identical to how it usually is, but you know that there's pain swelling in his chest minute by minute. His eyebrows furrow when he grabs his things so their team could exit the court. Was he thinking about how this was his last tournament for the year? Or how he allowed this former powerhouse team to defeat his team?

"Look at me, Ushijima." His eyes trace across your face and you actually want to cry. It's all he ever deserved and yet, they fell short. They were the likely ones to move onto Nationals, yet here he is, with his heart shut off to the world. "You were amazing."

"I need to train more." Ushijima leaves the gymnasium without you and you quicken your pace to catch up. No more words are exchanged until after you go back to the Shiratorizawa gym.

You hate it when Ushijima knocks himself down before even trying to come to terms with the fact that he is a great volleyball player. It happens sometimes, but you wish it hadn't happened to him.

"Ushijima, no one else is training. Everyone's going home," you mutter to yourself because what much of a difference will you make? Your feelings aren't enough to sway the stoic person who stands in the distance.

"Bye, (Y/N)-chan. Can you try to cheer him up for us?" Tendou taps his fingers on your shoulders. "You know how stressed he can make me." His eyes are longing, but knowing him, he needs to head home right away.

You squeeze his hand before nodding with determination. He cares so much for him. Even at your best, Tendou beats you. "I'll try my best. Have a good night, Tendou."

Ushijima rolls out a cart that is overflowing with volleyballs and calls out, "(Y/N), since you're staying, please set some balls for me to spike."

"No. You're better than this," you say as you approach him. "I know you're better than this."

"Please. I just want to train." Ushijima shakes his head as if he has zero clue of what you're speaking about. He palms one of the balls and squishes it between his hands.

"It's not your fault." With a careful step, you advance towards him.

"It is." His words are said nonchalantly, but despite his attitude, you know that the words he say are the truth and only the truth. He sets the ball upwards for a few tosses. His attention is only on the gravity that sends the ball up and down.

"It's not your fault."

He's silent this time so you repeat your phrase and now, you've ended up by his side.

"(Y/N), stop saying that." He looks down to the floor. He tosses the ball in the air and it's sent over the net with his serve. It slams on the floor with a sound that resounds throughout the space.

"It's not your fault," you take his hand into yours, rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb. Liquid glazes over his hazel eyes. "It's not your fault."

He collapses into your arms and you struggle to stand with the entirety of his weight on your body. Gut-wrenching sobs vibrate into your very being and you can feel moisture seeping into your shirt. His nails claw at your shoulders.

"I'm so proud of you, Ushijima." As he is brought down to your size, you press your lips to his temple and it is in this moment, in this gym that has caused him heartbreak and triumph, he finds peace in your presence.

He, who is a study for detachedness, cracks open his chest because of four words.