Karasuno Fight {One Shot Book}

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Alright guys, I'm apparently obsessed with this sort of AU I have going on here, but hey free fanfiction food, eh?

(Note: this oneshot is no longer involved with the AU. I apologize for any inconvenience)

This oneshot contains direct talk of/mentions of abuse, sexual assault, and death. If that happens to make you uncomfortable/upset, I urge you to find something much better to read.

Anyway, I hope this oneshot isn't as bad as it looked in the drafts and that I don't end up wanting to crawl in a hole from embarrassment because of this monstrosity. Please enjoy.

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"Who the fuck is this scrawny puke?"

The guard at the door, Sato, grins down at him, the cigarette held firmly between his crooked, yellowing teeth. He leans leisurely against the door, one hand lazily tapping a rhythm on the worn brick of the building. He combs his eyes over him, eagerly searching for a sign of weakness.

Kindaichi holds his ground, but he does so carefully, his stance rigid and his hands gripping each other behind his back to quell the shaking. He meets Sato's eyes, challenging him with a level stare.

"Street rat." He answers, his voice soft but steady. "Wants to fight. Boss said to take him to the Delta ring."

Sato's eyes narrow, sharp and predatory, and he draws himself up to his full height, not quite as towering as Miyamoto but still humungous all the same. Kindaichi swallows, but remains silent, waiting for the older boy to say his piece.

Sato peers past Kindaichi, no doubt looking the kid up and down like he's a slab of fresh meat. He knows how Kageyama must look, with his dirty face and ragged clothes, a mere street mutt, not worth anyone's time. Of course, Kindaichi knows better, but keeps his thoughts to himself.

"Boss's orders?" Sato questions, his tone incredulous. "The hell does boss want a-" He cuts himself off as he squints at Kageyama, likely trying to figure out just how young he was. "-what the fuck even is he, like, ten, street rat like that fighting in the Delta ring for?"

Kindaichi can feel Kageyama bristling behind him at the insult, shifting his weight restlessly. He adjusts his own stance, planting his feet more firmly on the ground and settling his arms at his sides, his hands curled into loose fists. If a fight broke out, he wanted it to be between him and Sato. Despite all his bravado, Kindaichi knew if Sato got his hands on Kageyama, the kid wouldn't live to see another day.

"That's not my business to tell." He says. "If you wanna know so bad, take it up with the boss. Now, are you gonna let me in or not, I have more important things to do than deal with you tonight."

Sato growls at his words, leaning down until he's nose to nose with Kindaichi, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and breathing out a burst of smoke right into Kindaichi's face. Kindaichi wrinkles his nose, nearly stumbling backwards from the stench of tobacco.

"You watch your tongue when talking to me, brat. Having an attitude ain't good for nothing but getting you killed."

Kindaichi scowls, his fingers tensing in anticipation, much like Kageyama's had done eariler. He could feel the street mutt within him trying to crawl its way back up his throat, snapping and snarling furiously at the chance to appease its long forgotten hunger.

"Yeah," he mutters. "I need to watch my attitude."

Sato snarled, the sound loud and guttural in the silence of the alleyway. He surged forward, his smoky breath suffocating Kindaichi as his face came closer. A large, sweaty paw gripped the collar of his jacket, and Kindaichi choked on his own spit as he was lifted upwards, the tips of his sneakers barely scraping against the wet ground. Sato's eyes were dark, cold, hardened, and the color of a polished amethyst. They were terrifying.

"I don't give a damn if you are one of the boss's lapdogs, you don't get to talk to me like that, cocky little shit!"

Suddenly, Kindaichi was eleven again, a tiny rabbit fresh from the luxury of domestication, thrown out carelessly into the harsh wilderness that was the real world, trembling in fear at all the predators roaming about, licking their chops and eyeing him hungrily. A panther's gaze met his own, lilac eyes soft but sharp at the same time. Claws dug into him, sharp teeth gentle but unwavering in their ministrations.

"Hey, now, it's alright. Nothing to be afraid of..."

Kindaichi gasped brokenly, his hands feebly grasping at Sato's wrist while his feet scrabbled uselessly against the ground. He couldn't breathe.

"L-L... et g-go!"

Sato's eyes, those damn eyes, gleamed maliciously, his mouth curling into a cruel grin. He said nothing, clearly enjoying the sight of Kindaichi falling apart in his hands once again.

"I'd let him go if I were you."

A quiet voice, followed by a soft click, both so quiet they were barely  noticable. Sato's grin faltered, as did his hold on Kindaichi, and he looked down, eyes widening in genuine surprise at the sight of Kageyama, thin hands clenched carefully around a pistol, a single finger hovering over the trigger.

Kindaichi gasped again, his eyes burning with tears as he took in much needed gulps of air. He tried to reach out for the younger boy, but all he managed to do was weakly raise his fingers. "K-Kag... geyama, n-no..."

Despite currently having a gun pointed at him, Sato had the nerve to laugh. "Well, the rat has some balls, eh?" He chuckles. "You sure you should be playing with that, brat? You could get hurt."

Kageyama's eyes narrowed, swirling with an unreadable emotion. His frown deepened. "You sure you should be laughing at the guy with a gun pointed at your genitals?" He answers. "I can fire this gun at least three times into any of your vital organs in the same amount of time it will take you to steal it back from me. Now if I were you, I'd let Kindaichi go."

Sato bared his teeth, his hands tightening around Kindaichi again. Kindaichi whimpered. "You ain't in the gang, why do you care what happens to the little fuck? He's useless for anything except being a lapdog, and now he's even getting to be useless at that too!"

"Because he's my friend." Kageyama growls. "And if you fuck with my friends, you fuck with me."

Sato laughed again. "What is this, a fucking kid's show? "Because he's my friend." This is gold! How old are you, kid?"

Kindaichi yelps shrilly as a loud bang echos throughout the alley, and then he's released, landing on the ground with a hard thud. He scrambles back as quickly as he can, coughing and spitting all the while as he tries to regain his bearings. When he finally does, he looks up with wide eyes at Kageyama, just a little street mutt, not worthy of anyone's time, standing victoriously over Sato's slumped form, a single bullet hole sat right between the older man's eyes.

Kageyama drops the gun, his blue eyes, so young and bright, staring coldly down at Sato. He kicks the man's arm once and spits on his face. Finally, after a few heartbeats of silence, he speaks.

"I'm twelve, asshole."