Haikyuuusimp

Welcome to my blog 😊

I'm Ray Ray I’ll mostly be posting fanfics

Bakugou never thought he’d love anyone. Love wasn’t something he had time for. All he ever wanted was to be number one that was it. Love wasn’t even a shadow in his mind.

Well... until a girl walked into UA with power so overwhelming they had to build a separate section just to contain it.

People admired you from a distance, half in awe, half in fear. No one dared get close.

No one except him.

Bakugou didn’t like attention you got. Didn’t like that someone might be stronger. So he challenged you again and again telling himself it was training, just training, nothing else.

What he didn’t realize was that every fight, every clash, every time you knocked him down and offered him that steady look… he was showing you his own cracks.

You weren’t anything like the whispers claimed. Not cold. Not cruel. Not distant. You had a fire that didn’t burn It wrapped itself around people,

He hated how much he noticed you. How his eyes hunted for your silhouette in every room. How his mornings felt wrong if he didn’t hear your voice at least once. How you made the world feel too bright, too real.

He became close to you without meaning to. Closer than he ever intended. But he didn’t understand any of it not until the day everything almost slipped away.

The sound that ripped from him wasn’t a scream. It was something raw, broken, a noise he didn’t know he could make until he saw you falling, slipping out of reach, leaving him in a world suddenly colder.

And then— a hand on his chest, steady and warm, your voice murmuring, “Hey… it’s just a dream. You’re okay.”

Your voice. Soft enough to shatter him. Soft enough to calm storms he never admitted he carried.

That was the moment it hit him like an explosion to the ribs.

This was love. It terrified him. It infuriated him. But it claimed him all the same.

part1

Mikey

Mikey couldn’t stop thinking about you after that.

He didn’t usually care about girls—never had the time, never had the interest. He had food, his bike, and Toman. That was enough.

But something about you stuck with him.

The way you didn’t hesitate. The way you looked at your brother—not with fear, but with protective fire. The way your voice softened when you said, “You’re okay now.”

He tried to shake it off. Failed miserably.

So, Mikey did something strange.

He started talking to your brother more. Inviting him to hang out. Casual. Chill. No big deal.

“Yo, we’re getting food after school. Come with.”

Draken just stared at him. “Really, Mikey? That obvious?”

Mikey ignored him.

Your brother was confused, to say the least. His gang leader—Mikey, the invincible Mikey—was suddenly asking to hang out?

“H-huh? Me? Why?”

“No reason,” Mikey lied smoothly. “You’re funny.”

You didn’t notice at first. Then the fights started again.

Your brother came home bruised. Again. And again. Every time you asked, he brushed it off. “It’s fine.” “It’s nothing.” “We handled it.”

Until you cornered him. And he admitted something.

“I’ve been hanging out with Mikey more... he kind of... keeps pulling me into these things.”

You saw red.

You stormed up to him, furious.

“Mikey.”

He looked up slowly, like your voice pulled him out of a trance. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“Yo.”

“You’re dragging my little brother into this gang sh*t again? What the hell are you thinking?”

His expression didn’t change.

“He can handle it.”

“That’s not the point!” you snapped. “He’s not like you. He’s not like them. If anything happens to him, I swear—”

You were about to keep going, but Mikey suddenly stood. His face wasn’t smiling anymore.

His voice was quiet. “You think I don’t know that?”

A beat of silence passed between you. His eyes locked on yours—dark, unreadable, intense.

Then he added, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it

“I just wanted a reason to see you again.”

Mitsuya

All he could think about were his little sisters in that moment—how young they were, how much they meant to him. And looking at you, holding your injured brother so tightly… he felt a strange connection. Like he could understand you.

Like he already did.

He didn’t want to let you walk away.

So he followed you.

“Ayo, wait up—” he called out, jogging a few steps forward.

You didn’t stop. You just kept walking, gripping your brother like your life depended on it.

“Hey! Wait—!” he tried again.

This time, you turned your head just enough to look at him.

“What do you want?” you snapped, your voice sharp—but your eyes told a different story. The tears threatening to spill. The way your lip trembled. You didn’t want him to see it.

But Mitsuya saw.

He slowed down, his voice softer now. “Hey... you’ve got a lot of injuries. Let me help patch you up, alright?”

“No! I don’t need your help!” Your voice cracked. “You guys are the reason my brother’s even in this mess! Why he’s fighting at all!”

Mitsuya didn’t argue.

Instead, he gently stepped forward, his hands raised slightly in peace. “I get it,” he said. “I know what it’s like to want to protect someone. I’ve got sisters too. I’d do anything for them.”

He knelt beside you carefully, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let me help you. Please.”

He lifted your unconscious brother and eased him onto his shoulder with practiced care, setting him down gently beside him. Then he turned to you and began tending to your wounds—quietly

Just the two of you. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

You finally broke it. “You should patch up my brother first.”

Mitsuya gave you a faint smile. “He’ll be fine,” he said. “He’s Toman.”

Mitsuya worked in silence for a moment, his hands surprisingly gentle as he cleaned a scrape on your arm. You winced.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You didn’t respond. You were still tense, watching your brother breathe in slow, steady rhythm.

Then Mitsuya glanced up at you. “You’re tough, you know that?”

You blinked. “What?”

He gave a soft smile, eyes flicking briefly to yours. “Most people would’ve passed out with half the injuries you’ve got. But here you are—snapping at me, dragging your brother out of a fight like it’s nothing.”

You looked away, but he caught the faintest hint of a blush on your cheeks.

He chuckled, low and warm. “Honestly... kinda impressive. Kinda cute, too.”

You scowled, not meeting his gaze. “Don’t flirt with me while my brother’s unconscious.”

Mitsuya smirked, finishing the last bandage. “Just sayin’ what I see.”

He leaned back, wiping his hands on a cloth. “There. You’re good for now.”

Then he looked at you again, a little softer this time.

The alley was chaotic—voices raised, hurried footsteps echoing under the flickering streetlight.

Toman stood firm. Mikey’s sharp gaze scanned the crowd, Draken moved with steady strength, Mitsuya and the others stayed alert and ready. Even Takemichi, tired and bruised, refused to back down.

But your younger brother was cornered.

The rival gang’s leader sneered, pushing him gently against the wall. “Call someone to save you. Let’s see if they really care.”

Your brother’s hand trembled, holding the phone. One call. No words, just steady breaths. You already knew what would come next.

Then suddenly, the mood shifted.

It was you.

You stepped forward without hesitation, grabbing the nearest thug’s arm and firmly guiding him aside. Another tried to block your way, but you sidestepped smoothly, then held your ground.

The alley quieted.

“What’s going on?!” “Who’s that?”

Toman paused.

Mikey’s eyes locked on you, sharp and curious.

You didn’t notice them. You only cared about your brother, who was trembling against the wall.

Your expression softened instantly as you reached him. The fierce look faded, replaced by worry.

“I’m here,” you said gently. “You’re okay now but I’ll be sure to tell Mom everything.”

Your hood slipped back slightly, revealing your face.

A hush fell over the crowd as they realized—you were a girl.

The same routine, over and over again — like always. Even your birthday.

As you got older, it seemed like people cared less and less about it. Birthdays started to feel like just any other day. While everyone else had grand celebrations, yours quietly faded into the background. People forgot.

Your parents said you were too old for “those kinds of birthdays.” So they stopped. Even though it made you sad, you eventually told yourself it was fine. This is normal, you thought.

Even your friends started forgetting. You wanted to say something. But what’s the point? It felt silly. So you stayed quiet.

And eventually, you stopped expecting anything — because expecting too much only led to disappointment. You learned that the hard way.

Some years, you just ate cake by yourself. Or maybe you did something small. But mostly, your birthday was... just another day.

So when the doorbell rang at exactly midnight — You were genuinely surprised.

You weren't expecting anyone.

And there they were. The same person you’d only gone on a few small dates with. Not even someone you talked to that much.

Holding flowers. A gift. A grin so wide

“Happy birthday!”

You stared at them, completely frozen. “Wha—what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Simple words. Nothing dramatic. But they cut through everything.

And before you could stop it, your eyes welled up.

Because for the first time in a long time, you felt seen.

Not just remembered. Not out of politeness. Not because someone had to.

But because someone chose to.

And in that moment — standing there in your pajamas, eyes red, gift in hand — you weren’t just someone who got older again.

You were someone who mattered.

character:- BOKUTO ,akaashi, HINATA , sugawara , GOJO ,BACHIRA, REO, mitsuya, chifuyu and ur favs

part8

By the time the kids were tucked back in—bellies full, laughter spent, and dreams safe—the apartment fell into a quiet that felt different than usual.

Osamu stood by the door, keys in hand, He gave you a tired but genuine smile.

“I’ll drop off more food tomorrow,” he said. “Just text me what you need.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Osamu. For everything.”

His gaze lingered on you a little too long. Something unreadable passed behind his eyes.

“Take care, yeah?”

You didn’t notice the way Bokuto watched the exchange. Didn’t see the flicker of something—jealousy, maybe, or doubt—cross his face.

Osamu left quietly

And for a few seconds, you thought Bokuto would follow.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he hovered near the couch, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual brightness dimmed into something softer. Hesitant.

“Um…” he said, almost shy. “Is it okay if I… stay a little longer? I mean, just here. In case the kids wake up again. Or… if you need anything.”

You blinked. “You… want to stay?”

He nodded. “Only if it’s okay. I just don’t like the idea of you being alone right now.”

“…Yeah,” you murmured after a moment. “Okay. You can stay.”

something inside your chest began to ache.

Bokuto had become too close. Way too close.

At first, you told yourself it was just the way he loved the kids. The way they lit up around him. How he made them feel safe

But now… he was starting to have an impact on you.

You hated how you missed him when he wasn’t around. How his voice, his, the way he carried groceries like it was nothing—how all of it crept into your heart without permission.

You were scared. Deeply.

Because this wasn’t just about you. It was about them—your kids. You couldn’t afford to let your heart hope and fail again. Not if it meant they got hurt too.

You weren’t sure you could survive another kind of abandonment.

And Bokuto… Bokuto had become bolder. He didn’t hide how he felt anymore. It didn’t take a genius to see it in his eyes—he loved you.

And you didn’t know what to do with that.

A few days later, when you dropped by the restaurant, Osamu was cleaning up, sleeves rolled, hair messy. You didn’t know what made you bring it up. Maybe guilt. Maybe fear. Maybe both.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you said quietly.

“You’ll never be ready,” Osamu replied, wiping his hands on a towel. “Not really.”

You looked down. “It’s just… I’m scared. For the kids. For me.”

“I think it’s good for you,” he said softly. “He’s good for them. And he’s good for you.”

There was a beat. Then his voice cracked just a little

“I know I lost my chance. I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. And that’s on me. I knew you. I saw you. But I still didn’t show up.”

You swallowed. He kept going.

“I don’t blame you for being scared. But don’t let fear keep you from something that might actually heal you. Just…” He paused, eyes tired but honest. “Try to loosen your grip on the past.”

Your throat felt tight.

“…Thank you, Osamu,” you whispered. “I’ll think about it.”

He gave you a small, sad smile. “That’s all I can ask.”

What you didn’t know…

Across the city, your photo lit up a screen again.

Atsumu stared down at it. His jaw clenched.

His thumb hovered over the screen. Over your face. Over Bokuto’s arm around your shoulders.

Something burned.

all he could see was red

mlist

Prince Oikawa Tooru x reader x knight Iwaizumi Hajime

Part1 Part2 Part3

You obviously asked for your own chambers.

Your chambers were grand — suffocatingly so. Velvet drapes, gold-threaded pillows, and a bathtub large enough to drown in. Everything was perfect — perfectly empty.

Your best friend had helped you undress, laughing as she kicked off your shoes before flopping onto the silken cushions like it was just another sleepover.

“So,” she said, dragging out the word. “First day of being a royal trophy wife. Feeling sexy yet?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not even a little.”

“Thought so.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “But seriously. What’s the plan, boss lady?”

You sat at your vanity, staring at your reflection for a long moment. Not the girl your mother made up. Not the bride they all clapped for. You.

“I want access to the records room,” you said. “Royal archives. The restricted one.”

Your best friend whistled. “Ooh. We’re committing treason now? Day one? Bold.”

“I want to know what happened to my father,” you said quietly. “And what they’re hiding.”

“Alright,” she said, sitting up properly now, eyes sharpening. “Then I’ll distract whoever needs distracting.”

You turned to her, lips quirking. “Even if it’s that knight with the dimples?”

She grinned. “Especially if it’s the one with the dimples.”

“She asked for her own chambers.”

Oikawa’s voice was tight, the wine untouched in his hand. He wasn’t angry. Not quite. But something colder.

Iwaizumi leaned against the window frame, arms crossed. His jaw ticked.

“And?” he said, voice low.

“She’s my fiancée, Hajime.”

“You didn’t want a fiancée.”

Oikawa shot him a look. “That’s not the point.”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi said, finally looking at him. “It is.”

They fell into silence — the kind that crackled with things left unsaid. Outside, the sky was darkening, clouds thick with rain. Inside, the tension was thicker.

“She didn’t even hesitate,” Oikawa said, pacing now. “Just smiled. and told she’d prefer her own space. Like it was her choice.”

Iwaizumi’s brow lifted. “You’re angry she didn’t want to share your bed?”

Oikawa turned on him. “I’m angry she isn’t afraid.”

That silenced Iwaizumi. For a second, only the wind outside filled the room.

“She’s not like the others,” Oikawa said more quietly now. “She’s not simpering. Not starry-eyed. She’s watching.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi said. “You need someone who sees through your performance.”

Oikawa gave a sharp laugh. “You mean like you?”

Iwaizumi didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

They stood like that — two sides of a bond forged in years of stolen nights and silent wars. Iwaizumi had always been Oikawa’s anchor, the one who knew the man beneath the crown. But you? You weren’t meant to become a third variable.

And yet.

“She spoke to my mother,” Oikawa said at last.

Iwaizumi’s expression shifted. “She never speaks.”

“She did today. And she smiled.”

That drew Iwaizumi off the wall.

“She smiled?”

“A real one. Like she remembered something warm.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “What did they talk about?”

“I don’t know.” Oikawa’s jaw clenched. “But it made her look at me like she knew something. Like she saw me. Not the version I give the court.”

“She’s smart. Controlled. I can’t tell what she wants.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want you,” Iwaizumi said plainly.

Oikawa flinched — just a little.

The halls of Aros Castle were quieter at night. Thick stone and velvet tapestries swallowed most sounds — except the right ones.

You weren’t looking for it. You didn’t need to hear it.

But you did.

A door left slightly ajar. A breathless laugh. A low groan. A voice you now legally belonged to — gasping another man’s name like a secret prayer.

Iwaizumi.

You paused mid-step.

No guards in this wing. No servants. Just silence — broken only by the rhythm of bodies colliding, and the heady intimacy of a love that had nothing to do with you.

You stood there a moment.

Listened.

Then smiled — not cruelly, not sadly. Just… amused. A little impressed.

Bold, you thought, moving on. But not surprising.

They found you the next morning in the gardens — dressed too casually for a queen, hands dusted with soil, sleeves pushed up to your elbows as you inspected a dead rose bush with narrowed eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” Oikawa asked smoothly, walking beside Iwaizumi like they hadn’t just broken every rule of royal decency twelve hours ago.

You didn’t turn. “Perfectly,” you said.

A beat of silence. You felt it — the tension behind you. Like two predators waiting for a trap to spring.

“i missed you,” Oikawa tried again, voice honey-slick. Testing the waters. “You never came to the east wing.”

“I was tired.” You straightened, finally looking at them. “And I assumed your bed was… occupied.”

Iwaizumi froze. Oikawa blinked.

You smiled.

“I heard you,” you said simply.

Stillness.

Oikawa opened his mouth.

“I don’t mind,” you interrupted, still pleasant. “Truly. I wasn’t under the impression this union was built on love. We all knew what it was. And what it wasn’t.”

You dusted off your hands and stepped past them.

“But,” you added lightly, “doing it on our wedding night? That was a bold choice. Not very smart… but bold.”

And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. But you should at least be careful.

And then you were gone.

Prince Oikawa Tooru x reader x knight Iwaizumi Hajime

part 1 part2

You walk through the marble floors of your wedding — everyone is silent, save for soft murmurs echoing through the grand halls of the Kingdom of Aros. The only sound truly reaching your ears is the echo of your own footsteps, heavy with dread.

You're in a ball gown so tight you can barely breathe. Your mother forced you into it, laced up with no mercy, as if appearance could mask the pain in your heart.

Since your father's sudden death, nothing has felt the same. Everything fell apart so quickly. No one had expected it, and in the chaos, the only solution to preserve the kingdom was an arranged marriage — a political union with the prince of Aros.

Oikawa Tooru.

The charmer. The flirt. Everyone knows him — not just for his good looks and dazzling smile, but for the way his eyes always seem to linger a little too long on someone else.

Someone specific.

Everyone whispers about it. About the way he looks at Iwaizumi Hajime — the vice commander of the knights. Stoic. Powerful. Loyal to a fault. Known for his brute strength, feared and admired across the realm.

You glance at them as you walk. Oikawa stands at the end of the hall, smiling like this is just another game, another show. And right next to him is Iwaizumi, silent and serious, as always.

Their smiles don’t fool you. You can see straight through the masks they wear. They don’t want this — not you, not the crown, not the ceremony. Just each other.

And yet, here you are.

Your head is bowed. You only look up when you see your mother, her expression sharp as a blade, signaling you to smile — fake it. Like you always do. She’s the same woman who tightened your corset this morning until your ribs protested and you almost collapsed.

Beside you, your best friend — your lady-in-waiting — tries not to laugh. She's the only thing keeping you sane, the only one who knows the real you. You clutch her presence like a lifeline.

You lift your eyes to the prince. He smiles down at you with practiced fondness. He’s beautiful, infuriatingly so, with his perfect hair and broad shoulders. He holds out a hand, firm, steady, warm. You take it.

He lifts you onto the small altar for the ritual. He smells good, like expensive oil and lavender. He leans in for the ceremonial kiss — short, sweet, perfect for the crowd. The kingdom erupts in polite applause.

But from the corner of your eye, you catch Iwaizumi watching.

Let them have their secret, you think. Let them play their games behind closed doors.

You’re not here to fall in love.

After the ceremony, a grand party was held for all the higher-ups.

“Well, that was a long day,” Oikawa said, being the first to speak to you.

“If you want, my knights — Matsukawa and Hanamaki — can take you to your chambers so you can rest.”

“That won’t be needed,” you said.

You weren’t going to sit in your room and do nothing. You loved the thrill. You wanted to talk to everyone, get to know them — gain social standing, learn the rumors, and uncover secrets. If they thought you were going to sit back and look pretty, they were definitely wrong.

And that’s exactly what you did.

You couldn’t get much from the guests — most just offered congratulations and smiles. But then one old duke came forward with his even older wife. You and Oikawa tried to help them walk, but they waved it off.

“Oh no, no! I want to greet the handsome husband and the bride the old traditional way,” the old woman said. “Sorry if it takes a while to reach you.”

It warmed your heart.

You may not have found anything valuable tonight, but this moment was enough.

“Ooooh, my pretty girl’s married,” your best friend whispered in your ear. “Sooo, what you gonna do to the prince? Doggystyle? Missionary? Or maybe a threesome with the knight?”

“Shut up. I’m not doing anything,” you hissed.

“I’ve got different plans.”

Your best friend smirked knowingly. “Knew it. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You’re supposed to say that to your husband.”

“Ugh.”

The celebration dragged on, music swelling as nobles toasted to your new union. You smiled when expected, nodded through empty congratulations, but your eyes were always moving — scanning, reading the room.

Your best friend whispered in your ear, “God, if I hear one more 'may your union be fruitful' I’m gonna throw a wine glass.”

You snorted into your goblet. “Control yourself. You’re supposed to be the respectable lady-in-waiting.”

“Ugh. That’s you now. I’m just here to make sure you don’t stab someone.”

You laughed under your breath — only for your moment of joy to be cut short as Oikawa suddenly appeared at your side.

His smile was polite, his tone smooth but curt. “Walk with me for a moment?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice, but nodded. He didn’t offer his arm. He simply turned, and you followed.

Your best friend raised an eyebrow, mouthing Oooohh, before following a short distance behind with the knights.

As you walked through the quieter corridors of the palace, the music and chatter fading behind you, Oikawa finally spoke again — low, clipped.

“I’m taking you to see my mother.”

You glanced at him, caught off guard. “Now?”

“She’s in the west wing. It’s isolated,” he said flatly. “For safety. You’ll keep your distance.”

“…Why?”

“She’s ill. And whatever it is, no one’s been able to cure it. They say it’s contagious. I don’t believe that, but the court…” He exhaled sharply. “You’re not obligated to see her. Just—don’t get too close.”

There was no warmth in his words, no room for discussion. Just a warning. You nodded.

Your best friend leaned in beside you. “Harsh much? It’s like he wants to get pegged tonight.”

You tried not to laugh.

Matsukawa seemed to have heard her. A quiet chuckle escaped him. She gave him a glare

Iwaizumi walked beside Oikawa, and you were just behind them. Hanamaki and Matsukawa followed behind you, along with your best friend, as you walked toward the old part of the castle — the part no one visits anymore.

Oikawa knocked on the door. A frail, soft voice answered, “Come in.”

He stepped inside. “Wait here. Let me speak to her first, okay?”

why is she this part of the castle... u frowned

“She’s been outcasted,” Iwaizumi said, his voice low. “They believe her illness is contagious. But we know better.”

Oikawa stepped back out.

“So, if you want to believe the others, you may leave,” he said coldly. No sugarcoating. His eyes were hard.

“No. I want in. I want to see the Queen of Aros,” you said firmly.

They were surprised. No one called her queen anymore — just “the sick one,” “the forgotten,” “the weak.”

“You may enter,” Iwaizumi said quietly, still in shock.

You entered a large, dark room. A frail-looking woman lay thin in her bed.

But you could see it — the pride, the dignity. Though her body was weak, her spirit still burned like a true queen.

You walked closer and knelt gently at her bedside, your eyes meeting hers.

Her eyes, though dulled by sickness, still shimmered with the sharp intelligence of a woman who once ruled an entire kingdom without flinching. The scent of old herbs and dried roses filled the air. Though she was gaunt, she radiated an aura of unwavering grace.

“You are the new one,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, but steady. “The girl who did not bow.”

You blinked. “I’m sorry if I—”

“No,” she interrupted with a faint smile. “That was not a scolding. That was... refreshing.”

A silence settled — thick with tension and unspoken history. You could feel it in the room: years of exile, betrayal, and whispered rumors. And still, she sat proud, her back slightly propped by pillows, like a lioness weakened, but never broken.

“I was once like you,” she said. “Hungry. Curious. Dangerous.”

You swallowed. “They say you’re sick. That no one is allowed near you.”

She chuckled — it sounded like crumpled paper. “They always fear what they do not understand. That hasn’t changed.”

Your fingers itched to take her hand, but you waited. “What don’t they understand, Your Majesty?”

She turned her head slowly to meet your eyes, her gaze dark with something ancient. “That I remember everything. Every betrayal. Every lie. Every secret that built this kingdom higher while burying its heart beneath stone.”

Goosebumps spread across your arms.

Her voice lowered. “And I know you are not here just to play the pretty bride. Are you?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m not.”

Her eyes gleamed. “Then we will get along just fine.”

You could feel Oikawa’s presence at the door — a storm waiting to crash in.

“I’ll come again,” you promised.

She closed her eyes, but a soft smile stayed on her lips. “You’d better. I’ve waited a long time for someone like you.”

You stood, but leaving didn’t feel like stepping out of a sickroom — it felt like exiting a chapel. Sacred. Full of secrets. And now, destiny.

When you stepped out, Oikawa’s face was unreadable, but his jaw was tight. “She spoke to you?”

You nodded. “She’s stronger than they say.”

He said nothing, only turned sharply. “Let’s go.”

Your best friend leaned in and whispered, “Girl, what was that? I thought I saw ghosts in there.”

You only smiled, your mind spinning.

Because now, you had your first real thread in the web of the kingdom’s lies.

part7

Bokuto had been growing closer to your kids with every passing day. You tried not to get too involved with the Miya brothers and their circle, but it was hard—especially because your kids had started to adore them. Bokuto would take them out to parks, give them piggyback rides, buy them little toys… their laughter around him was so genuine. And honestly, your days felt a little brighter, a little less heavy, whenever he was around.

You didn’t have the heart to pull your kids away from the people who made them smile.

And of course, their favorite restaurant had become Osamu’s. He always slipped them extra onigiri without charging, even though you told him over and over that you weren’t looking for handouts. You had pride. You had worth. You didn’t want to feel like a freeloader.

But despite the smiles and the laughter, not everything was good behind closed doors. Your bills kept stacking up—unpaid and untouched. The landlady knocked so often, your kids had learned to fall silent and hide whenever she showed up. You were scared. Your pay wasn’t enough, not for everything. You hadn’t had a proper meal in ages, not because you didn’t want to eat, but because every extra cent went to the kids.

They deserved everything. They were your whole world.

That night, after you tucked them in, you finally broke. Alone in your room, in the quiet dark, you cried silently—overwhelmed, scared, helpless. You hated how selfish it felt to want someone—just someone—to be there for you for once.

What you didn’t know was that Aoi had seen you crying. She got scared. She whispered to her brother, and Akira and they called the only people he thought could help.

Not long after, the doorbell rang. It was late. Your heart jumped. You grabbed the nearest thing—a plastic bat from the kids’ toy bin—and held your breath as you opened the door.

To your shock, standing there under the dim porch light were Bokuto and Osamu.

Both looked surprised to see each other.

“You’re here too?” they both asked in unison, eyes wide.

Then they looked at you. Your face was still streaked with dried tears. You hadn’t expected anyone to see you like this.

“Akira called,” Osamu said gently. “Said it was urgent. That you were crying.”

“AOI! AKIRA! Get over here, right now!” you called, a bit flustered.

The kids came running, looking sheepish.

“We thought we should help,” Aoi whispered. “We didn’t want you to be alone... I’m sorry if it made you mad.”

You knelt, pulling them both into a hug. “No, baby. I’m not mad. Just… surprised.”

You looked up at the two men. Embarrassed. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to drag anyone into my mess.”

Bokuto shook his head. “No. Don’t say that.”

“If anything,” Osamu added, “can we come in?”

You hesitated—but only for a second.

Then, quietly, you stepped aside.

“…Yeah. Okay. Come in.”

They stepped in quietly, the kind of quiet that showed they understood this wasn’t the time for jokes or loud reassurances. Bokuto’s usual energetic presence felt toned down, respectful. He took off his shoes at the door

Osamu followed, carrying something—a paper bag.

“I brought food,” he said, almost like an apology. “Didn’t know what else to do.”

You blinked. “You… brought—?”

For all of you,” he said. “And I swear if you pay, I’m walking right back out.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Bokuto gently cut in.

“Hey,” he said, crouching down to Aoi and Akira’s level. “You guys wanna help me set the table?”

Both kids lit up instantly. “Yes!”

You just stood there for a second, not knowing where to put your hands, your emotions, your pride. You’d spent so long holding everything together,

Osamu gave you a look—one that didn’t ask anything, didn’t judge. Just saw you.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said. “Just eat.”

The four of you sat around the table. The kids were happier than they’d been in days, maybe weeks—chatting to Bokuto about their favorite cartoons, telling Osamu all the names they’d given their plushies. The food was warm and comforting. You hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d eaten without guilt.

At some point, Bokuto looked at you across the table, eyes soft but firm.

“You don’t always have to be strong alone, you know.”

You looked down, suddenly blinking hard. “Yeah, well… I don’t really have a choice.”

“You do now,” Osamu said. His voice was low. Sincere. “We’re not here to pity you. We’re here because we care. And because your kids care.”

Akira reached out and took your hand under the table, his small fingers curling around yours. You smiled at him, trying to hold back the tears again—but they came anyway. And this time, you let them.

Not out of hopelessness.

But because, for the first time in a long while, you felt safe enough to cry in front of someone else.

You felt seen

mlist

part6

You were walking your kids to school, doing your best to stay hidden under your sunglasses and wide-brimmed hat. You didn’t want to be noticed today. Not by anyone. Especially not by him.

You were always on high alert, keeping your eyes peeled, making sure he wasn’t waiting around the corner. You weren’t ready for a full-on conversation with Atsumu. You knew it was selfish, even cowardly, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t ready to face the person who had hurt you so deeply, to see that regret in his eyes that would only tear you apart.

You were scarred. You didn’t want to get sucked back into the past, to remember what things were like when you were younger, when everything seemed perfect.

But then you heard it.

"Y/N?"

Your heart stopped. You turned instinctively, and there he was—Bokuto Kōtarō, running toward you with that familiar energy, the same wild grin stretched across his face.

"OMG, Y/N, how have you been?" His voice was loud and cheerful, but you could tell he was trying to keep it quieter than usual, almost like he didn’t want to draw attention.

"Hi, Bokuto," you said, trying to sound casual, but the nerves in your chest made your voice waver. "How are you"

Bokuto’s voice was full of excitement, but there was a soft vulnerability hidden behind his words. It wasn’t the loud, confident energy he usually carried around. This was something else.

"I'm here for the volleyball program," he added quickly. "Long time, no see! OMG, it’s been forever!"

You blinked. You and Bokuto hadn’t been that close. You were usually stuck with Atsumu during team dinners, but seeing Bokuto here, in front of you, felt... comforting, in a way.

"Hi, Bokuto. How are you?" you said, trying to keep it casual.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his usual playful vibe still there but mixed with discomfort. "Yeah, I know... about what happened between you and, um..." He trailed off, not needing to say the name.

"I know, Bokuto. You don’t have to worry about it," you reassured him, trying to push the tension away. You didn’t want to dwell on it.

He nodded but then looked at your kids, who were energetically chattering beside you. "So... I heard about the twins. They’re Atsumu's, right?"

"No," you said quickly, your tone protective. "They’re mine." You didn’t know why you said it that way. Maybe you just wanted to claim them, to protect them from everything that had happened with Atsumu. You wanted them to know, no matter what, they were yours.

Bokuto blinked at you for a second, processing your words. "Ahh, yeah. Twins. Gotcha." He nodded slowly, then paused, his expression turning serious. "But hey... are you sure you’re okay? You’re wearing sunglasses and a hat... it’s not even that hot out."

You sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "It’s... complicated," you said softly, not wanting to go into it. But there was something in his eyes, something that made you feel like you could trust him, even though you barely knew him.

Bokuto raised an eyebrow, then, in a sudden shift, looked at you with more intensity. "Are you hiding from Atsumu?"

The question took you by surprise. You stared at him, unsure how to answer. "What?"

He lowered his voice, glancing around as if making sure no one else was listening. "I mean... if you want, I can drop you off somewhere. Atsumu won’t be coming around here, I promise."

That hit you in a way you didn’t expect. Bokuto, the loud, carefree guy, was offering something more. He wasn’t just being the clown you knew him to be. He was standing in front of you now, offering something serious. Protection. A way out.

"I didn’t think you’d be the one to offer that," you admitted, surprised.

Bokuto shifted uncomfortably but stood his ground, his eyes sincere. "I can’t leave you to handle this alone," he said softly. "I may not have been close to you before, but I just... can’t stand seeing you go through this by yourself. No woman should face this alone."

His words, simple as they were, struck something deep inside of you. For a moment, you felt a warmth in your chest, a spark of something that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

"I’m not asking you to owe me anything," Bokuto added quickly. "But... if you ever need help, if you ever just want someone to talk to, I’ve got your back, okay? You don’t have to carry all of this on your own."

You blinked away the sudden emotion, realizing how much you needed to hear those words. You hadn’t heard them in so long, not from anyone. You felt like a weight had been lifted, just a little.

"Thank you, Bokuto," you said quietly. "That really means a lot. You have no idea."

He grinned, that familiar infectious smile of his making its return. "Anytime, Y/N. Seriously. Anytime."

As you turned to walk away, you couldn’t help but notice your kids. Aoi had noticed Bokuto, and his eyes were wide with excitement.

"OMG, THIS GUY MADE THE VOLLEYBAL GO BAMM TO THE GROUND, HE'LL VOLLEYBALL TO THE GROUND!" Aoi exclaimed, jumping up and down. "YOU'RE SO COOL, I WANNA BE LIKE YOU!"

Akira, usually quiet and reserved, couldn’t hide the sparkle in his eyes. His cheeks flushed slightly, and you saw him shyly glance up at Bokuto.

"OMG, YUEAA WAS I COOL?!" Bokuto asked with his usual infectious energy, and it was enough to make Aoi laugh even harder.

Bokuto's boisterous and upbeat nature seemed to rub off on your kids, and before you knew it, they were excitedly talking to him, Akira even chipping in with more than his usual quiet responses. You’d never seen him like this.

Bokuto handled it all so effortlessly, his energy infectious. He bent down to their level, listening intently, and making them feel like they were the most important people in the world.

For a moment, you found yourself smiling.

You were smiling at Bokuto—at the way he was treating your kids. At how he seemed to genuinely enjoy their company. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t just about you. It wasn’t about your pain or your struggle.

It was about the present. About your kids. About the people around you who cared enough to step in and make things feel a little less heavy.

And maybe that was what you needed right now. A small moment of joy, a little lightness, after everything that had happened.

mlist

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓐𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮

They said she was lucky. Married off to a prince with a smile that could make nations kneel.

They didn’t mention the rumors. The lover in the shadows. The glances. The hush-hush scandal that everyone pretended not to see. Prince Oikawa and his knight — Iwaizumi Hajime — inseparable, unreadable, untouchable.

And then came her. The quiet bride. Sent from another kingdom in silks and pearls. Eyes soft. Voice sweet. Hands folded just right.

Everyone thought they knew what kind of girl she was.

A girl who’d fall in love too fast. A girl who’d cry when she realized she was a replacement. A girl who’d break quietly.

But they were wrong.

She didn’t come to fall in love. She came for something else. Something darker. Older. Something hidden beneath the palace floorboards and between the spaces where power lived.

She played her role. Smiled where she needed to. Bowed just enough. But behind the softness was something sharp.

She wasn’t here to be crowned queen. She was here to watch. To hunt. To make the palace bleed if it had to.

Because before the crown touched her head, She had already stolen the throne.

part1

part5

“Excuse me — who are you?”

Your voice was cold. Sharp.

“Please refrain from saying anything else,” you added, grabbing your kids’ hands.

“They’re my kids,” you said calmly — but the weight behind your words shut him up.

“Let’s go, babies.”

The twins didn’t fully understand, but they followed.

“Aoi! Akira!” Atsumu called, panic in his voice. “Wait—what’s—Y/N! Wait—please!”

He looked wrecked. Teary-eyed.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

For a split second, his voice took you back — To 17-year-old Atsumu. To the boy who once made you feel like forever was real.

But forever ended long ago.

“Y/N,” he begged. “Please don’t walk away.”

You kept walking.

“Y/N—please—don’t—please don’t go—”

But you left. You didn’t turn back this time. You left him the same way he once left you.

And Atsumu? He broke. He stood there, devastated.

You didn’t look back at Atsumu.

You left, never turning back.

It became routine.

He didn’t come near you. But you saw him — every time you picked them up from school. Standing across the street, cap pulled low, sunglasses doing a poor job of hiding his eyes.

His pleading eyes.

One day, Aoi was bouncing beside you, tugging your arm.

“Mommy! Mommy! My friend said there’s an onigiri shop that makes animal-shaped ones! Can we go? Pleaseee?”

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts.

You didn’t want to think about him anymore. Not today.

So you said yes.

You went to a small shop in the corner of a busy street.

The air was warm — full of rice, miso, and a hint of soy.

It smelled like something safe. Something from another life.

“Aiko, look! Look at the bunny one!!” Aoi shouted.

“Akiraaa, get the bear one!” she squealed.

You smiled at their joy… Until your eyes landed on the man behind the counter.

Your breath caught.

He looked up.

His eyes widened.

Osamu.

He looked older now. More mature. Sharper jaw. Sleeves rolled to the elbows. He looked like a man, not the teenager you used to know.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

He looked at the kids. Then back at you.

You could see the realization on his face — in the way his expression slowly fell.

“…They’re his,” he said quietly.

You nodded once.

“You look tired,” he added. “Too tired for someone who deserves peace.”

Something inside you cracked.

“I don’t need pity,” you whispered.

“It’s not pity,” he replied gently. “It’s… guilt.”

“Why?”

“I knew,” he said. “I knew he was breaking. I knew he wasn’t ready for what you gave him. And I let it happen anyway. I should’ve told you.”

“You owed me nothing.”

“No,” he said. “But maybe I wanted to. Back then.”

Silence again.

“Did you ever wonder why I stopped texting?” he asked. “Why I stopped showing up?”

Your throat tightened.

You had wondered.

“I thought maybe you hated me,” you admitted.

“I just didn’t want to be the other twin. The twin you didn’t choose.”

The soft confession made you look up.

His eyes were softer, you noticed.

“Atsumu knows. He saw them.”

“He’s trying to ask for forgiveness,” Osamu said. His voice tightened. “I told him to let you go. I told him you deserved better.”

“Y/N…”

“They’ll have whatever they want,” Osamu said softly. “On the house.”

You started to protest.

But he shook his head. “Let me do this one small thing.”

You nodded.

As he packed their food, he glanced up one last time.

“You don’t owe him anything, Y/N.”

You met his gaze.

“But if you ever need anything…” His voice trailed off. The offer lingered between you. “…you know where to find me.”

“Let’s go, babies.”

And as you walked out the door…

Osamu just stood there. Watching you leave.

Quiet.

Still holding everything he never got the chance to say.

And you cried when you reached home. And this time — not just about Atsumu.

mlist

part4

Atsumu was devastated. Tears started flowing.

He tried contacting you for many days. Now it’s been years.

He misses you. He misses everything. And it’s too late.

He was wrong. What he had with Sakusa wasn’t love. They broke it off — maybe it was better off as just friends.

The truth?

Atsumu got scared. You were his future — the serious, forever kind. And deep down, he didn’t feel worthy. Sakusa offered something easier. Less pressure. Less responsibility. It wasn’t love — just comfort. A safe distraction he mistook for something more. But it was always you. Everything was always you.

He sits in the gym, sprawled out and exhausted. His fame increased. He’s winning more and more games.

But still… There’s something hollow in his heart.

He dreams of you every day.

Oh, how he wishes you'd come back to him.

His teammates tried to help him — even Sakusa.

“C’mon, man, just leave it. There are so many hot chicks out there.”

There were. Many models. Many superstars. But all he had in his mind was you.

He missed your touch. Your cooking. Your comfort. Your eyes. Your smile.

But it was too late.

So he kept his fake smile, his flirty attitude, and worked himself until he was no more.

Then one day, the coach called everyone up in front.

“Gather up. We have a program where you guys will go to schools and teach young kids how to play volleyball. It’ll help the club’s image.”

Bokuto and Hinata were very excited, practically jumping.

Sakusa clearly hated the idea — germs all around him.

Atsumu… well, he looked forward to it. He had nothing to lose.

Everyone was assigned different schools and warned not to get too excited or accidentally throw a ball at a kid’s face.

Atsumu went to his school — a small one, full of lovely kids.

He could tell some of the teachers had the hots for him.

But among all the kids, he noticed one quiet boy.

Something about him felt so familiar.

Then he saw the energetic girl next to him — she had the same eye color as him.

He could tell both were so excited to meet him.

“Oh my god! I’m a big fan!” the girl shouted. “I’m Aoi, and this is Akira!”

“We watch you on TV! You were soooo cool — like whoosh and bam! I wanna do that!”

“Oh, you wanna be a spiker, huh?”

“YEAHHH!! Akira always sets the ball to me — just like you! He’s sooo good at it!”

You could see Akira smiling shyly, trying to look unaffected.

Atsumu couldn’t help but chuckle at them.

They were so cute. They reminded him of… He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Teaching the kids was way more fun than he expected. He especially bonded with Akira and Aoi.

“Bye guys!! I’ll see you! I’ll miss youuu!!”

Atsumu truly enjoyed it.

As he was about to leave the school premises, he saw his two favorite kids (he knew he shouldn’t have favorites, but he couldn’t help it) running.

He was about to call out to them to say a final goodbye — until…

He saw who they were running to.

“Mommy! Mommy! Guess what!!”

Their voices faded.

All he saw… was you.

After years of waiting, everything he had hoped for stood right in front of him.

You looked tired. Thin.

But still… So. Beautiful.

So heartbreakingly beautiful.

His heart dropped.

“Atsumu!! There, that’s the one!” Aoi shouted excitedly, pointing at him.

You looked up.

Atsumu stood frozen, his breath caught in his chest. And you — wide-eyed, stunned — like time had just stopped.

You hadn’t changed. Still so achingly, devastatingly beautiful.

And in that moment, it all made sense.

Why Aoi’s eyes looked just like his. Why Akira’s quiet smile felt so familiar. Why he felt drawn to them without knowing why.

The pieces fell into place

They were his.

His children.

His heart dropped.

He staggered back a step, breath caught in his throat, chest tightening.

“They’re mine.”

part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8

part3

It’s twins.

You didn’t know how to react when the doctor said it. You just cried.

“Maybe everything will be fine,” they assured you. “Everything is going to be okay.” You nodded, held back the storm in your chest, and went back to your tiny space. You were happy — scared, but happy.

Your babies were born. It was a challenge But when they arrived… everything felt right. The world made sense.

You had a shift in an hour. No time to rest. You got ready in a hurry, throwing on the baggiest clothes you had. cuz If they had found out about your pregnancy, they would have kicked you out. You couldn’t afford that. You needed this job — not for you, but for your baby. No — babies.

Most of your things were gone — sold off for money.

You stepped out into the city. Billboards of MSBY lined the streets. There he was — Atsumu Miya, in his prime. Shining, thriving, a star.

But you didn’t flinch. You held no grudge.

You came to peace with it all a long time ago. As long as you had your babies, nothing else mattered.

He didn’t stay long — but the days he was with you… Those days were the best.

You had a baby girl and a baby boy. And somehow, both looked just like Atsumu.

No surprise — the Miya genes ran strong. But they had your smile.

You loved them more than anything. More than you ever thought was possible. You would give the world for them. You already had.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Your three-year-old daughter came running to you, eyes wide with wonder. “Who’s that on the TV? He’s sooo cool! I wanna do what he does!”

You turned to the screen. MSBY.

Atsumu. Fans screaming, lights blinding, the court alive.

You expected this. The volleyball blood ran deep — it was only natural. But you wouldn’t stop them. You couldn’t.

You would never be like your parents. You wouldn’t clip their wings.

“That, my love,” you said softly, “that’s volleyball.”

warning-pregnancy, cheating

part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8

part2

Atsumu became a pro like he promised

but

You didn’t know where it went wrong.

Maybe it was always wrong.

Lately, all you felt was hollow.

Atsumu wasn’t really there anymore. He wasn’t like before. The glow he used to carry — the warmth, the light — it was gone. Faded.

Every time you called to ask where he was, he gave dry, vague answers. “Practice.” “Team dinner.” “Long day.”

But his voice lacked life. His words felt like placeholders.

He had changed. He wasn’t the same Atsumu who used to run through puddles just to make you laugh. Not the boy who’d roll in the dirt to pick wildflowers — just to give you the best one. Not the one who’d sneak out late just to hold you during your parents’ worst days.

That version of Atsumu… felt like a dream now.

He started coming home late, leaving early. No affection. No laughter. No connection.

Everything felt off. Cold. Dull.

And still… you held on.

Because you had news. Big news.

You were pregnant.

And maybe, just maybe… when he found out, he’d smile again. Maybe the idea of a baby would pull him back to you. Back to everything you two were supposed to be.

You texted him, heart pounding:

tsumu, i have something to tell you. can you come over early?

He replied right away:

i have something to tell you too.

You didn’t think much of it. You just smiled. Hopeful. Nervous. You’d surprise him. It would all work out.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang. You rushed to the door, smiling—

—and froze.

Atsumu was there.

So was Sakusa.

You hadn’t expected him. Not tonight.

Your face faltered, smile falling slightly. “Oh… I didn’t know you were bringing him too,” you said, letting out an awkward laugh.

They walked in. Both looked uncomfortable.

Visibly tense.

Like they were hiding something.

Something bad.

You swallowed. “So… what did you want to tell me?”

“No, you go first,” Atsumu said.

“Just tell me, please. Tsumu… you’re scaring me.”

Your eyes bounced between him and Sakusa.

You knew Sakusa. He was quiet, but kind. You’d gotten close to the team because of Atsumu. And as far as you knew, Sakusa was just a friendly guy. Someone you even considered a friend.

But right now? He wouldn't even look you in the eye.

You could feel your heart sinking.

“Atsumu?” you whispered.

He didn’t call you ‘babe’. Didn’t joke. Didn’t smile.

Just a quiet: “Y/N.”

Your name had never sounded so heavy.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted to say this sooner but… Y/N… I— I love Sakusa.”

Silence.

It felt like the world stopped spinning.

He kept talking, stumbling: “It doesn’t mean I didn’t love you. I just… I don’t know. Please.”

Your chest tightened. Breath shallow.

You knew. You knew something was wrong for weeks. But hearing it out loud — Seeing it — Was a whole different kind of pain.

“Shut up,” you said, voice shaking. “Atsumu, shut up.”

Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was the betrayal. Maybe it was the grief, or the rage.

Maybe it was all of it.

But all you could feel was heat. Anger. Sadness. Heartbreak.

You grabbed your keys.

“Y/N, wait—”

“Don’t. Don’t say another word unless you want me to do something we’ll all regret.”

You turned to Sakusa, shaking.

“I expected better from you. You knew he was in a relationship. You both did this—behind my back?”

“Y/N—”

He tried to grab your wrist. “I still love you.”

But before he could say anything more—

SLAP.

Your hand met his face. Hard.

You ran. Straight to the car. Drove fast. Far.

And when you couldn’t drive anymore, you pulled over and sobbed.

Gut-wrenching, soul-shaking sobs.

You had no one. No one to hold you. No one to call. No one who loved you back.

You were alone.

You curled into yourself, hands cradling your stomach.

A whisper:

“Baby… Mommy’s gonna take care of you.”

A promise.

“Everything’s gonna be okay. I won’t let you feel what I feel. I’ll give you everything I can. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you won’t have a dad. I’m so, so sorry.”

You wiped your tears. Slowly. Breathing deeply. Trying to calm down — for your baby.

Because now, that’s all that mattered.

A few days later, you went to the hospital for your first check-up.

You sat quietly in the waiting room, filling out forms with trembling hands.

A nurse called your name. You followed her back, heart pounding.

She looked around, then asked gently, “Is anyone with you today?”

You shook your head, voice small. “No… I’m alone.”

She paused, then gave you a soft, sympathetic smile — the kind people give when they don’t know what else to say.

And somehow, that smile made it worse.

But you stayed strong. For the baby.

You returned to the apartment only when you were sure they wouldn’t be there.

Took your things. Blocked their numbers.

No goodbyes. No closure.

Just a new beginning.

You sold what you could. Moved into a small, quiet place. Not fancy like Atsumu’s — but safe. Yours.

You picked up part-time jobs. Bought secondhand baby clothes. Started preparing.

It wasn’t the life you imagined.

But it was yours now.

And no matter how broken you felt…

You were ready for whatever came next.

For your baby.

For yourself.

part-1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 Part8

You loved Atsumu.

He was your everything.

High school sweethearts — the perfect couple.

To others, you two were just cute together. Nothing deeper. They didn’t know. They didn’t know the struggles. The nights you didn’t sleep. The scars you hid. The damage your parents caused — to you, to both of you.

Your father… well, he was wild.

He had a bad temper.

Some days were really bad — especially the days he had too much alcohol. God, those days were hell. Your mom? She just listened. Agreed with everything he said. You tried — tried so many times to help her. To protect her. Tried to call the police once. But she always shut it down. “Stop being dramatic,” she’d say.

That day — that day — was the worst.

Everything’s a blur now. Just pain. Yelling. Rage. Tears.

Days like those happened too often.

You hated staying home.

No — you despised it.

School wasn’t much better. But then there was him.

Atsumu.

You don’t even know how the love began.

Maybe it was the way he looked at you. Or how his shoulder would brush yours when he walked by. Or the way he’d grin when you caught him staring.

Then came the small touches. Lingering eye contact. And finally — the question: “Wanna go out with me?”

You said yes.

God, you were so grateful you did.

Somehow… the bruises didn’t hurt as much anymore. Nothing did. Because all you felt now was love. Teenage, messy, warm love.

Maybe it was puppy love.

But for a girl who had nothing… This was everything.

You didn’t just get close to him. You got close to his teammates too. Suddenly school didn’t feel like a cage. It felt fun. It felt like freedom.

You were cuddled in his bed that day — like you always did.

You’d started going over to his house more. Kisses exchanged between whispered jokes and soft laughter.

He’d tried asking about your home before. Your parents. But you always changed the subject. You never felt ready.

So he stopped asking.

Until that day.

“Y/N, you can take your time,” he said gently.

That day… he held you a little closer.

And you flinched.

“Ah—Y/N, are you okay, baby?” he asked, pulling back immediately. “I didn’t even hold you that tight…”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing it off. “Just leave it.”

But before you could move away, he gently grabbed your wrists.

“Y/N, baby… what’s this?”

His eyes widened.

He’d seen the bruises.

That day, you told him everything.

All of it.

And he didn’t say a word. He just pulled you into him — held you close until you couldn’t cry anymore.

He picked up your broken pieces. Held every one. And for the first time in your life…

You felt like someone actually saw you.

He cried too. Cried with you. Whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N… I’ll do anything, I promise. I promise.”

“I’m gonna go pro, and when I do — we’ll live together. We’ll get married. Just you and me.”

That night, you both held each other close.

Maybe it was just a teenage love.

But oh — how real it felt.