Stay Gold, Kid. | Haikyuu!!
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- Parts 4
"Us greasers will always remain greasers. Socs, well, they'll just remains socs. No matter what you try to do, nothing can change that. You dig, Hinata?"
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With a deep desire to end the fighting and heartache for everyone, Hinata Shouyou also wishes to prove to everyone that he is, in fact, stronger than he looks. But how can he do so, when everything just seems to be getting worse for greasers and socs alike?
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Greaser/Outsiders/50s and 60s AU, updated frequently. (Light BL)
All characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the author of Haikyuu!! This is also based off of "The Outsiders," by S.E Hinton. //This is also being written on my AO3//
Cover made by yours truly.
All Rights Reserved
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Kana Amai never believed in "fresh starts." People didn't become better versions of themselves just because they crossed an ocean - they just found new places to be a mess in. London had been loud, wild, and full of bad decisions that tasted like freedom. Tokyo? Tokyo was the same - just with better vending machines and stricter uniforms. At seventeen, Kana wasn't trying to reinvent herself. She liked who she was - talkative, dramatic, a little reckless; the kind of girl who could talk her way out of anything except a 7 a.m. class. She liked sleeping in, spending money she didn't have, and laughing too loud. If the world thought she was "too much," that sounded like a them problem. Her grandparents adored her anyway. They'd gotten her into Itachiyama Institute - an elite school where everyone breathed ambition and walked like they already had careers. Kana thought it sounded boring. Until she met Sakusa Kiyoomi. He sat two rows ahead in Class 3 - tall, sharp, disgustingly neat. The kind of boy who wiped his desk before sitting down, whose expression said, I'm surrounded by idiots. He was also the ace of the boys' volleyball team - school royalty, and, unfortunately, her new entertainment. Itachiyama had rules: every student needed a club. Kana tried. And failed. By the end of the week, her teacher sighed. "Fine. The boys' volleyball team needs a manager." "Wait, that's a thing?" Apparently, it was. She was handed a clipboard, and a court full of sweaty, six-foot boys who moved like they had engines instead of lungs. At first, it was hilarious - all that yelling and cleaning like their lives depended on it. Until she saw the team's ace. Sakusa Kiyoomi.
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