#oc: Kiyoko | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

b1xi · 2 months ago

Text

───𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘐𝘋───ハイキュー!!

Tsukishima Kei(ハイキュー!!)x fem!reader

Word count:4009

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

Anxiety clung to you throughout the day, manifesting in small, uncontrollable gestures. Your foot bounced nervously against the floor, setting an erratic rhythm, while you bit your lower lip every time your thoughts drifted to what Kimura might have discovered. The professor’s words felt distant, a background murmur unable to capture your attention. All your focus was on the clock, which seemed to move at a snail's pace.

Nayuta, sitting beside you, gave you an amused glance at some point, likely noticing your restlessness. "Relax, or you'll wear out the floor," she whispered with a sly smile, though she didn’t seem particularly concerned.

"That's easy for you to say," you murmured back, barely moving your lips. You knew Nayuta was used to dealing with situations that were unfamiliar to you; her confidence in Kimura was proof of that. But for you, having pinned your hopes on what seemed like rumors and gossip, the wait was unbearable.

When the bell finally rang to signal the end of classes, you almost jumped out of your seat. Nayuta, much calmer, gathered her things leisurely before looking at you. "Relax, Y/N. It's not a race," she joked as she adjusted her bag's strap.

"It is for me," you replied hurriedly, grabbing your backpack and heading for the door. Nayuta followed, chuckling under her breath.

"Y/N, come on!" Hinata called out enthusiastically as he took your arm, gently pulling you toward the gym. His energy seemed endless, as always.

"Shoyo, you go ahead. I'll catch up later," you replied with a conciliatory smile, stopping halfway down the hall. You raised your sheet music folder to show him. "I want to practice a bit today."

For a moment, Hinata looked disappointed; his shoulders dropped slightly. But true to his optimistic nature, he quickly recovered. "Oh... sure. Do you want me to let the coach know?" he asked with a mix of understanding and concern, making sure you didn’t need anything.

You shook your head gently. "No need. I'll tell him when I get there. Thanks, Shoyo."

"Alright, but don't take too long, okay?" He flashed you a bright smile before jogging down the hallway with his usual energy.

You walked with Nayuta by your side, her arm linked with yours as you made your way determinedly to the third floor. You stopped in front of a door with a sign that read Computer Lab. From inside, fragments of conversation, laughter, and murmurs filtered out, indicating that the club meeting was already in full swing.

"Welcome," Nayuta said lightly, opening the door with a casual gesture.

The interior was organized chaos, a reflection of the diversity of interests among the club members. Books were stacked on tables and scattered across the floor, some open and others balanced precariously. In one corner, three girls chatted cheerfully as they organized makeup products on an improvised rug. Their laughter contrasted with the two older boys sitting at a powered-off computer, clearly more interested in killing time than actively participating.

Your gaze inevitably drifted toward the center of the room, where Kimura was surrounded by a group of girls. They all held their phones, exchanging quick comments and soft laughter. Kimura seemed to dominate the scene with her characteristic confidence, her relaxed posture as she effortlessly conversed with the others.

Nayuta nudged you gently with her elbow, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Come on," she whispered.

You took a deep breath and followed your friend as the two of you crossed the room, navigating around books and people in your path. Kimura looked up at the sound of your footsteps, her blue eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and barely contained amusement.

"Finally, you're here," Kimura said, setting her phone aside and motioning vaguely to the two chairs in front of her. She leaned back elegantly on the table, her elbows resting on the surface and her fingers interlaced, as if about to seal an important deal.

You and Nayuta sat down in silence. Without wasting time, your dark-haired friend pulled out a gift bag bearing Dior’s unmistakable black-and-white logo. Kimura’s eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm at the sight, as if the bag held the answer to all her dreams. However, Nayuta dropped the bag onto the table with a casual gesture, quickly pulling it out of Kimura’s reach before the blonde could lay a hand on it.

"Talk first," Nayuta ordered firmly, her gaze making it clear she wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense.

Kimura sighed theatrically, as if humoring you both reluctantly. Then she cast a meaningful glance at her nearby friends, who immediately got the message and stepped away, leaving the three of you with more privacy. Once the noise in the room faded to distant murmurs, Kimura leaned forward, a conspiratorial expression spreading across her face.

"Alright," she began, twirling a strand of her blonde hair, "it was a bit tricky, but I got it."

You made an effort to maintain your composure, though your hands betrayed your nerves as they gripped the edges of your skirt. Nayuta, on the other hand, remained unfazed, her expression expectant.

"Tsukishima Kei," she pronounced the name with deliberate pause, "does not have a girlfriend." Her words landed as a small relief, but her tone suggested there was more to it.

"That's it?" Nayuta asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly expecting something more substantial.

"That’s all I can confirm," Kimura clarified with a shrug. "The guy is... unusually private. He doesn’t talk much about his personal life, not even with his closest circle. I could swear I’ve never seen him show interest in anyone here, but if he ever had a girlfriend, it wouldn’t be easy to find out.”

A brief silence followed her words as you tried to process the mix of relief and frustration. It was an answer, but not a definitive one.

"So, in summary, he's single, but there's no way to know if he’s had something going on before," Nayuta summed up, turning toward you. "That’s something, isn’t it?"

Kimura smirked, clearly satisfied. "That’s all you’re getting from me, girls. Now, my reward." She extended her hand, her eyes gleaming, and Nayuta, after a few seconds of deliberation, finally slid the bag over to her with a resigned air.

"A deal’s a deal," Nayuta muttered as Kimura inspected the contents with obvious enthusiasm.

With nothing left to discuss, the two of you stood and left the room. Nayuta closed the door behind her with a soft click, and before she could take another step, you bowed deeply, your arms stiff at your sides and your forehead almost touching the floor.

"Nayuta, thank you," you exclaimed sincerely, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I promise I'll pay you back for what you spent on that perfume."

Nayuta's soft laughter broke the solemn moment. "Enough of that," she said as she stepped closer and placed a light hand on your shoulder, guiding you to straighten up. Once you stood upright, her warm and friendly eyes met yours.

You stayed silent for a moment, biting your lip as you tried to process her words. Nayuta was direct and, at times, blunt, but in moments like this, her genuine support left you speechless.

"Honestly, Yuyu, I don’t know what I’d do without you," you admitted finally, allowing yourself a small smile.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you either," Nayuta replied with a rare touch of sweetness before shrugging with her usual carefree disdain. "Well, at least we know he doesn’t have a girlfriend. That’s a start."

She turned to open the door to the computer lab again, throwing you one last look filled with complicity. "See you tomorrow. Go practice for now and leave the next move to me. I’ll come up with something soon."

You nodded, no further words needed. Her confidence was contagious, and while you still felt a trace of nervousness, you now had a clear direction.

You made your way to the music room, where the calm of the afternoon enveloped you. You practiced for an hour, focused on perfecting the piece you would perform for the auditions. Your fingers moved confidently across the keys, tracing each note with precision as you lost yourself in the music. For a while, everything else faded away: the rumors, the worries, even the uncertainty that had accompanied you all day. It was just you and the music, a world where you had full control.

You nodded, no more words needed. Her confidence was contagious, and while you still felt a slight nervousness, you now had a clear direction.

You headed to the music room, where the calm of the afternoon wrapped around you. You practiced for an hour, focused on perfecting the piece you would present on audition day. Your fingers moved confidently over the keys, tracing each note with precision as you lost yourself in the music. For a while, everything else disappeared: the rumors, the worries, even the uncertainty that had followed you all day. It was just you and the music, a world where you had full control.

When you felt you had mastered the most challenging sections, you let the final chord resonate in the empty room before carefully closing the piano lid. You gathered your things efficiently and hurried to the girls' bathroom.

You changed quickly, carefully folding your school uniform before putting on the black sports outfit of the team. The lightweight, comfortable fabric prepared you. As you tied the laces of your sneakers, you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

When you arrived at the gym, the familiar atmosphere enveloped you: the echo of bouncing balls, the voices of the players, and the squeak of sneakers against the floor. You greeted the coach with a brief nod as he focused on correcting the posture of one of the blockers, then headed to the table where you usually organized the materials.

You checked the stopwatch to ensure it was working correctly, then inspected the water bottles, carefully lining them up on the table so all the players could grab one during breaks. As you worked, you heard a conversation on the other side of the court, interrupted by the unmistakable tone of Tsukishima's voice.

"Finally here? Wasting time, were you?"

Your hands kept moving, arranging the last bottles on the table, even as you felt Tsukishima's shadow looming behind you. Your brow furrowed instinctively at his remark, but you took a deep breath before turning slowly to face him. His tall figure and relaxed stance, with his arms crossed, forced you to look up to meet his gaze behind those glasses.

"I wasn’t wasting time," you replied calmly, mimicking his indifferent tone while holding his gaze without blinking. "I was practicing—something productive, you see?"

He raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue, leaning slightly toward you as if trying to intimidate you. "Practicing? Funny, because when I went to the music room, you weren’t there. Aren’t you supposed to be so dedicated?"

A slow, almost mocking smile spread across your lips as you leaned casually against the table. "You went looking for me?" you asked, drawing out the words as if the idea amused you. "How flattering, Tsukishima. I didn’t know you were so concerned about my whereabouts."

The blond straightened immediately, his expression barely shifting, but the faint blush at the base of his ears confirmed you’d hit the mark. “Don’t make me laugh,” he replied in his usual biting tone, adjusting his glasses. “I just happened to pass by. I’m not as idle as you.”

“Sure, just a coincidence,” you countered with feigned innocence, turning back to the table to rearrange an already perfectly aligned bottle. “It must be hard for you to admit you notice my absence. Don’t worry, I don’t blame you. Sometimes, I’m hard to ignore.”

You could feel his gaze fixed on the back of your neck as you maintained a neutral expression, the air between you charged with that sharp sarcasm that seemed to be his favorite way of communicating.

“You know, for someone so short, you’ve got a massive ego,” he finally muttered before turning on his heel and walking toward the court, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the gym.

You suppressed a triumphant smile as you watched him walk away, Tsukishima’s words still lingering in your mind. There was something almost twistedly amusing about these interactions, like an unspoken game where both of you tested your wits. Maybe, you thought, Tsukishima was one of those guys who responded best when treated with the same indifference and sarcasm he so often dished out.

The idea left you pondering for a moment. Perhaps, in his own peculiar way, his sharp comments were his version of trying to get your attention. Of course, it wasn’t something you could confirm with certainty, but you weren’t about to ignore the possibility either. Still, you had no intention of sitting around like a fool waiting for clearer signs. If he wanted to keep up this push-and-pull dynamic, you were more than willing to play along. But only to a certain point.

"If he doesn’t make a move, then I’ll stop," you thought, adjusting one of the bottles he had knocked out of place on his way out. You weren’t willing to seem needy or lose your dignity over someone like Tsukishima, no matter how much, deep down, you liked him more than you wanted to admit.

The sound of the coach’s whistle snapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly grabbed the stopwatch, heading toward the court. The players were already starting their drills, and you had work to do. However, as you went over the training stats and made sure everything was in order, you felt a gaze on you.

You instinctively looked up, and there he was—Tsukishima—pretending his focus was entirely on the drills. But the slight turn of his head and the barely perceptible shift of his eyes in your direction gave him away.

You stuck your tongue out at him in a quick, playful gesture, making sure he saw it clearly. Tsukishima didn’t take long to react. His eyes narrowed briefly, and an exasperated sigh escaped his lips.

He turned back to face the court, now wearing an expression of barely concealed annoyance. The gesture was so typical of him that it almost made you laugh out loud.

As the day wound down and you prepared to head home, you made sure to help with the last few tasks. You gathered the scattered balls across the court and placed them meticulously in their designated spots.

“Y/N.”

The soft, delicate voice of Kiyoko caught you off guard. You turned to find the manager, her dark hair perfectly styled and her blue eyes avoiding yours with a shyness that was as characteristic as it was endearing.

“Yes?” You set the ball in your hands down and gave her your full attention, trying to interpret the slight unease in her expression.

“I… wanted to ask for your help with something.” Her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence, and she avoided looking directly at you, fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket. Your mind immediately drifted to not-so-distant memories of her last request, which had landed you in a slightly embarrassing situation. Internally, you prayed this wasn’t something similar, but your curiosity won out over your nervousness.

“Of course, tell me,” you replied with a calm smile, though your eyes carefully studied her every movement, waiting for her words to clear up your doubts.

Kiyoko took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to speak was a challenge in itself. Finally, her blue eyes met yours.

“I need you to come with me… to buy something for the team,” she admitted softly, her tone almost apologetic for the interruption.

“Sure, no problem,” you answered without hesitation, offering her a reassuring smile. “Just give me a minute to grab my things.”

You quickly headed to where you had left your bag, making sure not to keep her waiting too long. As you slipped on your jacket and double-checked that you hadn’t forgotten anything important, you noticed Kiyoko standing nearby.

When you returned to her side, you gestured for the two of you to leave the gym. “What exactly do we need to get?” you asked, trying to break the silence that had settled between you.

Kiyoko glanced up, her delicate features lit with a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I was thinking of ordering a banner for the team,” she said, a slight smile appearing on her face. “It’ll be black, with white letters, and I want it to say: ‘Fly.’ What do you think?”

You paused for a moment, reflecting on the idea. It was simple, direct, and motivating, but also carried a lot of meaning for the team. "I like it," you replied firmly, giving your approval. "It’s the perfect message for them—short but powerful. It matches the energy they bring to the game.”

Kiyoko nodded, clearly relieved by your support. “I thought something too long wouldn’t catch their attention, but I wanted it to have an impact. I want them to see it before every game and remember they have what it takes to reach higher.”

You smiled, impressed by the level of thought she had put into something seemingly so simple. “Do you already know where you’ll have it made? If not, I can help you find a place.”

“Yes, I think there’s a place downtown that does this kind of work,” Kiyoko explained as the two of you walked toward the subway station.

You took out your phone and quickly typed a message to your mom, letting her know you’d be home late. You didn’t want her to worry unnecessarily, and you knew she’d understand that you were helping with something for the team.

The subway ride was quiet, though the silence between you two was palpable. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t particularly lively either. Kiyoko seemed focused, mentally going over the details of the banner as she looked at her phone. Meanwhile, you watched the train’s movements and the flickering lights through the windows, letting the gentle swaying of the car fill the space between you.

When you arrived downtown, Kiyoko took the lead, confidently guiding you to a small shop specializing in custom prints and designs. The place was filled with samples of work displayed on the walls, from sports jerseys to banners of all kinds.

“I want it to look professional but simple,” Kiyoko explained to the clerk, who was jotting down notes as she spoke. “A black background with white letters and the message ‘Fly’ in an elegant yet eye-catching style.”

You nodded subtly from where you stood, pleased to see her handling everything with such precision. Although you weren’t directly involved in the decisions, you felt your presence gave her the confidence to express herself clearly.

“Would you like to add the team’s name or logo?” the clerk asked, and you noticed Kiyoko hesitate for a moment before turning to you.

“What do you think?” she asked, seeking your opinion.

“I think just the message will be enough,” you replied after a moment of thought.

Kiyoko nodded, grateful for your input. “Alright, just the message then.”

The clerk promised to have the design ready in a few days, and Kiyoko thanked him for his time before you both left the shop. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in warm hues that contrasted with the bustling city around you.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Kiyoko said softly, giving you a faint smile as you walked back toward the subway.

“It was my pleasure,” you replied sincerely. “I think the team will be thrilled when they see the banner. It’s such a thoughtful gesture from you.”

The manager nodded but didn’t respond right away. She seemed deep in thought, perhaps imagining how the boys would react to her effort. Her slight pause made you stop walking as well, until she finally spoke, her smile just barely visible.

“What do you think about getting some ice cream?” she suggested, her voice calm but carrying a surprising warmth that caught you off guard.

“Really? Ice cream? Kiyoko-senpai, you’re the best!” you exclaimed, your excitement spilling over as you gave a few small jumps of joy and eagerly followed her.

“Yes, really,” she confirmed with a soft laugh at your reaction, though she quickly added, “My treat.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you protested, though it was clear you had no intention of refusing the offer.

The walk to the ice cream shop felt lighter, the atmosphere filled with a mix of city sounds and the occasional quiet chatter between the two of you about the team’s practices or future plans. When you arrived at the small but cozy shop tucked into a quiet corner, the sweet and refreshing scent of ice cream greeted you.

“Pick whatever you like,” Kiyoko said, giving your shoulder a gentle pat as she stepped up to check out the flavors on display.

You moved closer, eyeing the wide variety of options. “Are you sure I can pick anything? This could be a dangerous decision,” you joked, shooting her a playful look.

“I trust you won’t blow my budget,” she replied, with a touch of sarcasm that wasn’t common for her but made you laugh.

Finally, you settled on a two-flavor ice cream, something classic yet delicious. Kiyoko chose something simpler, reflecting her understated style. The two of you took a seat at a table by the window, where you could watch people passing by.

“Thanks for this,” you said after a moment, savoring a spoonful of your ice cream. “I really needed it.”

Kiyoko looked at you, her expression calm but with a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. “I think we both needed this.”

You nodded, letting the quiet comfort of the moment settle between you. And as you shared the ice cream, you felt your bond with Kiyoko grow stronger—not just as teammates, but as true friends.

You had never felt as much pressure as you did in those days. Tomorrow was the highly anticipated interschool games, and in just four days, you had the audition you had been preparing for so diligently. The constant demands of dividing your time between team practices, piano sessions, and the endless pile of schoolwork had you on the brink of exhaustion. You could barely find moments to relax or even take a calm breath.

“Go home and get some rest early,” Coach Ukai ordered in his firm tone, his voice echoing against the gym walls.

“Yes!” the boys responded in unison, their energetic voices momentarily drowning out your fatigue.

You absentmindedly played with the Pochacco keychain hanging from your bag, a nearly automatic gesture in an attempt to dispel the weariness and tedium that had built up.

“Oh, wait, one more thing,” announced Takeda-sensei, his voice bringing silence and attention back to the center of the court.

Everyone stopped in their tracks, turning to hear what he had to say. Takeda looked toward Kiyoko, who stood beside him with her head slightly tilted as if trying to hide her nervousness.

“Shimizu-san,” the teacher called gently, prompting the black-haired girl to slowly lift her gaze.

The manager took a deep breath, as though she were gathering all the courage she could muster. “I know I’m not very good at cheering…” she began, her voice barely a whisper at first. Then, she seemed to make a sudden decision. She walked with determined steps toward the bleachers, climbing the stairs with Takeda close behind to support her.

From where you stood, you could see the players exchanging surprised looks.

After a few moments of expectant tension, Takeda-sensei and Kiyoko began to unfurl the black banner. The white letters in the center formed a single word: "Fly." It was both an instruction and a form of encouragement that seemed to fill the space with symbolic weight. The design was simple, but its visual impact immediately captured everyone’s attention.

Silence lingered as the players’ eyes scanned the message, and it was Kiyoko who broke it. Lowering her head slightly, with her cheeks faintly tinted red, she murmured, “Just… do your best.” Her voice, though barely audible, carried a sincerity that resonated deeply.

For a few seconds, the gym remained in a reverent hush until excited shouts and exclamations broke the spell.

“Kiyoko, no one’s ever said something like this to us before!” Daichi exclaimed, raising an arm to his face in a dramatic gesture as he tried to hide the tears that had started to well up. Around him, the others echoed his sentiment with endless words of gratitude.

The newer members of the team watched the scene unfold, not fully understanding the magnitude of what was happening. They had heard stories about Tanaka and Nishinoya’s devotion to Kiyoko, but seeing them completely silent, staring at the banner with almost reverential admiration, was something else entirely.

“Wow, they’re speechless,” Tsukishima commented from the side, his tone laden with his usual sarcasm. His gaze lingered for a moment on Tanaka and Nishinoya, who appeared frozen in place, staring at the banner’s message. “And that’s saying something—they never shut up,” he added, prompting a laugh from Yamaguchi.

Despite the remark, the intensity of the atmosphere remained. The players continued exchanging words of encouragement, feeding off the emotion of the moment. It was as if Kiyoko’s gesture had ignited a spark within the team, a renewed energy that seemed to transform the air in the gym.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Hinata urged, waiting eagerly by his bike at the front of your house. The redhead had offered to give you a ride to school that morning.

A light morning breeze brushed your face as you put your keys in your bag, trying to stifle a yawn. “Honestly, I should ban you from coming to my house this early,” you grumbled, adjusting your bag strap and walking toward him with reluctant resignation.

Hinata grinned enthusiastically, completely ignoring your complaint. “Hurry up and hop on!” he insisted, patting the back seat of the bike to indicate where you should sit.

You eyed him skeptically, crossing your arms. “Are you sure you can handle both our weights?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course, I can! I’m stronger than I look,” he replied with a wide grin, puffing out his chest as if to prove it was no problem at all.

You sighed, still hesitant, but finally gave in. “If we fall, I swear I’ll never forgive you,” you muttered, carefully climbing onto the back seat while he held the handlebars firmly.

“Trust me, nothing will happen!” he assured you, though the initial wobble when he started pedaling didn’t exactly inspire confidence. Despite that, he quickly managed to stabilize, and the bike glided smoothly along the quiet morning streets.

The morning breeze grew stronger as you moved, ruffling your hair and carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of a sunny day. Despite your initial doubts, you began to relax, enjoying the steady rhythm of the pedals and Hinata’s boundless energy.

“This isn’t so bad,” you admitted after a while, watching the scenery blur past you.

“See? I knew you’d like it,” Hinata replied, turning his head slightly to flash you a grin full of his usual enthusiasm.

“Awesome, we’re the first ones here!” he exclaimed jubilantly as he reached the front of the school and noticed the gym area was still empty.

You hopped off the bike, smoothing out your clothes and watching with a small smile as Hinata rushed to park his bike. Without wasting any time, you followed him toward the clubroom.

The peaceful morning was abruptly interrupted when Kageyama sprinted past the two of you, his usual focused expression and the rhythmic sound of his footsteps echoing around.

“Ah, Kageyama, you idiot!” Hinata exclaimed, startled as he was overtaken so suddenly. The redhead nearly lost his balance before reacting, picking up his pace to chase after him.

“Idiots,” you muttered to yourself, your tone a mix of frustration and amusement. It wasn’t the first time you’d witnessed one of their spontaneous clashes, and you doubted it would be the last. Despite their constant disagreements, deep down, you knew they complemented each other more than they cared to admit.

You decided to follow them at a more relaxed pace, listening to their voices echo down the hallway, mixed with the sound of their hurried footsteps. As you walked, you wondered if they would ever stop competing over everything... but deep down, you knew it was one of the dynamics that made the team special.

60 notes · View notes