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

hinata shoyo: lost in

you've been so lost in constructing scenarios for the evening ahead that you're surprised to see how far you've come.

already, the cafe tsukishima said hinata would meet you outside at, was in sight.

there's nothing slick about it, no fancy fonts or white etching upon the glass. anyone could pick the whole thing up and send it back thirty years and it wouldn't look out of place. there aren't any tables with fancy umbrellas, just the uneven pavement baring the cracks of age.

despite the late hour, you could still hear music from inside, the kind of rolling Jazz tsukishima always plays a little too loud for his neighbours' liking. but you're not here to sit at the cafe's bar and chat with him until the wee hours, you're here to see hinata, an old teammate tsukishima said was interested in a casual date.

he'll already be there looking like he's been stood up, but he knew you'll be late, so he'll wait, right? tsukishima should've warned him about your infamously horrid manners and habit of making people wait.

"(l/n)-san?"

suddenly, all your preparations flee your mind like scared children, your brain feels full of static like an old television set that's lost its signal. you stop. a part of you is screaming to turn around but felt frozen in place.

this, after all, is your first-ever blind date.

"y-y-yes?" god damn it, that was the line you just had to mess up, 'he must already be judging the hell out of me,' you groaned inwardly.

"ah, thank god i found you even though tsukishima only sent me one picture of you," the redhead chuckles as you whipped your head in his direction, looking at the said picture.

it was a god forbidden picture of you sleeping in the middle of your psych lecture, your hair messily covering half your face, "that bastard— oh shit, i really shouldn't be swearing on a first date— damn it, i did it again— ah fuck it," you exasperatedly slapped yourself in the face, unintentionally leaving a prominent red mark in the middle of your face.

"ow—"

hinata lets a hearty chuckle leave his lips, gently pulling your hand away from your face, scanning your forehead, "you're quite a handful, aren't you? and please, feel free to swear, i really don't mind. i was teammates with tsukishima, so."

oh, you liked his voice already, and his manners. and that fluffy orange hair, you wanted to ruffle it already. god, you're already liking him so much.

"i know a place, down the street, shall we?" he reaches out for your hand, which you gladly took, a shy beam spreading across your face. gosh, you didn't even know you had such a side to yourself.

"sure, let's."

his hands were calloused, probably from being a volleyball player but it felt like home.

you really didn't want to let go.

every time the two of you would have to walk through a crowd of people, he would tighten his hold around your hands ever so slightly.

and when your food took a longer time to come, he refused to touch the food in front of him till yours came. he even offered to eat the beans you tried your best to hide.

and when the two of you decided to sit by a fountain to chat, he laid his jacket down for you to sit on.

everything he did seemed like the bare minimum but all the small gestures he did were making you like him more and more as the evening passed.

the evening went by quicker than you had anticipated and hinata insisted on sending you back home.

of course, you didn't refuse.

but by the time you were at your doorstep, you didn't even realise how much you were dreading to say bye to the man.

he didn't leave without leaving his phone number and a flower he whipped out of nowhere.

you suspected it was from your neighbour's garden.

but it's a cute gesture so you're not going to question it.

you sent him one last smile before sending him on his way.

you already had a great feeling about the next date to come.