Okay, so first off - I do appreciate reviews, and will welcome any ideas you'd like to contribute to the story.

Second, I will admit that I might make some mistakes, and I apologize for that beforehand. This story WILL contain abuse, and maybe rape later on, but for now it should be fine. For any questions, you can ask in a PM or a review, and I will - most definitely - answer.

If I don't post for an extended amount of time, I most likely am feeling excessively uninspired (or something similar) and will try to post as son as possible.

Beware, 'cause I definitely know I'll do a pretty bad job of keeping them all 'in character'.

If you'd like the chapters to be longer, or shorter, just say so.

Last of all that I'm remembering, after I finish this story (whenever that happens) I will be working on a sequel. I won't say the title yet, (even if I'm already decided) just because I feel it would act as a sort of spoiler.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Haikyuu

PROLOGUE/chap. 1

Hinata looked back at his house once before pushing off from the ground and riding down the mountain, excitement buzzing in his ears, even as he yawned. I'll totally beat him today! He thought energetically, jumping off his bike and running past Kageyama, shooting him a triumphant glare out of the corner of his eye, seeing the black-haired-boys surprised expression. Kageyama let out a shout of outrage and sprinted after the lightweight, bouncy, energetic fireball. Hinata let out a long, determined cry, and they continued yelling as they raced to morning practice.

The players in the gym yelled out a greeting as they passed the two freshmen. Sugawara Koushi, the senior setter, crouched down beside them, raising an eyebrow at the two as they stared at him. "

"You guys, aren't you supposed to wait until you get into the gym to warm-up?" He said, a glint of humor in his eyes.

Behind him, Nishinoya laughed hysterically, practically throwing himself down next to Hinata and grabbing him into a rough, tumbling hug. "Come on, practice is about to start!" He said, still laughing.

Hinata smiled, big and bright, and leaped to his feet, pointing at Kageyama. "HAHA I got you!" He exclaimed.

Kageyama scoffed, turning his head away as he brushed off his clothes, walking nonchalantly into the gym. "Baka." He said, under his breath.

Hinata, unaffected, turned around and jogged to catch up to him, before pestering him with questions. "Hey, hey, you're gonna pass to me, right. Like, the zoomy one? Or is it the floaty one? Or are we gonna practice the watchy-zoomy one? Kageyama?"

Kageyama sighed, and just nodded. Hinata responded by punching his fist into the air, an excited smile on his face.

"Okay, Recieves!" Shouted the coach, Ukai-san.

- Later that Day. Afternoon Classes. -

Hinata stared at the paper in front of him, glancing from it, to the words written on the board, to his impatient teacher, and back to his paper. Hesitantly, he answered the question he'd been asked. Fortunately for him, it was barely in the realm of the correct, and he was let off with a stern glance.

He sighed. Tuning the class out (of which was probably the reason he hadn't gotten the hang of the subject yet) and staring out the window, he lazily wondered what his family was up to. With a start, he remembered the time difference, and frowned. He shrugged it off, turning back to the lesson to realize that class had been called, and Hinata quickly bolted out of the class, eager to escape his teachers questions. He vaguely mused upon what his parents friend was like. He didn't have time to think on it long, though, because Asahi-san and Noya-san and Sawamura-san came around him, rushing him to practice.

- Nighttime, Hinatas Home. -

As Hinata walked up to his house, abandoning his bike by the side, he took note of the pale white car parked near the edge of the driveway. Walking into the house, he slid off his shoes, positioning them slightly askew next to the red ones already there. He wandered in, stopping short when he saw a number of glass bottles on top of the counter. Confused, he walked towards them, only to stop short when the scent of alcohol reached him. Scrunching up his nose, he backed away.

"Kiruki-san?" He called out, looking around. Not seeing him, he walked up to his home's guest room, peeking in. A suitcase rested against the corner of the bed. Still not seeing the 20-something year old man, Hinata went downstairs. Suddenly, a loud shattering sound filled the silence. Hinata moved forwards, and a tall, muscular (yet surprisingly slender) man stood by the counter, the top of a broken bottle still gripped in his hand. His head snapped up at Hinata's entrance.

"Kiruki-san?" He asked questionably, as the older guy's purple eyes darkened, his dark black-red, tangled hair dangling in front of his nose.

"You're the brat, I assume?" He asks shortly, voice gruff, with a - painfully obvious - trace of anger.

"Um, I... " Hinata stuttered, at a loss for words. "I... I'm Shoyo Hinata, if that's what you mean. My parents were friends of yours so they asked _"

He was cut off as Kiruki shouted out at him , "I DONT KNOW ANY 'FRIEND' ASKING ME TO COME HERE." He said, violently grabbing another empty bottle.

Hinata took a step back, intimidated. "B-bu_"

Kiruki swiftly, and forcefully, chucked the bottle, straight towards Hinata. The small boy' sees widened in fear, and he stumbled back. The bottle shattered as it hit him, burying shards into his skin, causing the boy to scream out, first in fear, then in pain, tripping over his own feet to land on his back, knocking the air from his lungs. He felt blood flowing down his arms, and tried to gently pry a glass shard from his arm, whimpering. He stared up and Kiruki-san, eyes wide and scared, as the man towered over him, glaring hatefully. As suddenly as it happened, it was over, Kiruki left the boy on the floor, closing the guest door.

Hinata let few tears slip past, at first, until he eventually became a trembling, crying, terrified mess. He extended his shaking arms out in front of him, taking note of the various glass shards embedded in his skin. He could feel a thin stream of blood flowing steadily down his face, and a small shard of glass in the skin next to it. He tried to get up, feeling bruises and other pains erupting around his body. He stumbled into the bathroom, discarding his newly bloody shirt outside the door. Taking care to hush his cries, he carefully plucked the glass shards out of his skin, wrapping them in bandages afterwards.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he debated on whether his teammates should be involved. Carefully maneuvering his aching body to his familiar room, he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a long while until he let sleep overtake him.