"Behind every mask is a face, and behind that a story."
Ukai Keishin was abused as a child, and the faces of his parents haunt him even to present day. He takes his grandfather's place as the Karasuno Volleyball team coach and finds at least a bit of peace in them, especially the faculty advisor, Takeda Ittetsu. However, his mind is still plagued with the panic from his childhood and always feels as if someone is out to hurt him again. Although Ukai hides this well, his mask is no match for the keen eyes of Takeda.
a.k.a The Angsty Ukatake AU Nobody Asked For
Ukai Keishin didn't like to think about his parents.
However, that didn't mean he didn't think of them at all.
It had been a long time since he had last seen his parents—eight years to be exact—and he wasn't entirely comforted by the fact that they would be released from prison in another two to three years. Even though he was a grown man, he couldn't escape the things that had shaped his childhood.
Ukai remembered his parents' awful behavior toward him as far back as when he had been in elementary school. He remembered that in the third grade, there were consecutive days—and sometimes even weeks—where he had gone without proper meals because his parents deemed him "overweight". When he had asked for something to eat, his mother roared at him, sometimes even slapping him when she was in a really bad mood. This sort of set Ukai into a turmoil of image problems (which he still battled with on occasion).
What he usually remembered next was his junior high years and his first year of high school. They had really started cracking down on Ukai for his grades. If he wasn't up to par with their expectations, they would take away his games or his books; sometimes his father would hit him, but with much more force than his mother ever could.
Ukai had tried to balance his studies with keeping his parents at least somewhat agreeable with him, but it was never easy to juggle.
His high school years were his worst. Sometimes a classmate would see a bruise or two on his bare forearm when he rolled his sleeves back, or a few scattered across his shoulders when he changed for gym or for volleyball practice. He kind of laughed it off and told them it had come from practice without knee pads, or that he was simply a klutz at home.
Ukai would stay after school for hours in the gym, even when he didn't have volleyball, just so that he didn't have to come home to his parents waiting at the door for him, seething and ready to beat the living shit out of him for just about any little thing they could blame him for. Volleyball practice kind of gave him a free pass to not worry about what his parents thought of him, or what they might do to him when he got home. The gym and the exercises gave him a medium to vent through when things were particularly tough at home. He would spike balls to rid himself of his frustration. His grandfather happened to be the coach at the time, however, he never said a word about his parents to him. They would've beat him for it.
Sometimes they would threaten him with knifes or scissors, even though they had never carried any of these out. He feared that maybe they would kill him in his sleep—suffocate him—or purposely get into a car accident just to be rid of him. Ukai never felt safe at home, but yet he still didn't bring it to anyone's attention.
To say he was stressed out was an understatement. Some of his friends who were third years said that sometimes cigarettes were of use when they felt high-strung, and they offered him one when he was sixteen. The first time Ukai inhaled the toxicity that was a cigarette, he spluttered and coughed for a good four minutes, but continued to take drags on it until he could control his coughing and breathing. Whenever he needed a break, he lit one during his lunch break or even after practice. He would light one even now when he felt himself panic or worry.
And halfway through his second year, things sort of mellowed out at home. Ukai thought he had been safe, if only for a little while. But he should have known that things wouldn't have stayed like that for long.
Towards the end of his second year, Ukai decided that his parents stopped caring. So, almost to prove to himself that they didn't care anymore, he bleached his hair and got an ear piercing for added affect. When Ukai had come home that day, his father was downright furious. Tugging at his bleached locks, he pulled Ukai into the kitchen so that his mother could see what their son had "done to himself". His father yanked him around so that his earring was visible and his golden hair was mussed and in knots.
Ukai squeezed his eyes shut and brought his arms up to cover his face when his mother whipped around and started screaming at him. Screaming at him that only homosexual men had piercings and dyed their hair and that homosexuals would rot in hell and that she didn't raise her son to be some other homophobic slur. And that's when he felt the rolling pin crash against the side of his head.
His mother backed him into a corner, hitting him repeatedly with the rolling pin until he felt blood drip from his hair line and onto his collar bone. She was still screaming at him that he was not her son, he was not her son at all, and that he would be a sinner for the rest of his god damned life. All he could hear was her nonstop roar and the blood drumming in his ears.
When his mother's throat was raw from screaming and the bloodstained rolling pin had fallen from her grasp, that's when things stilled and Ukai heard police sirens in the distance.
Ukai wasn't too sure what had happened directly after that, because he was pretty sure he had blacked out. But he remembered the trial and he remembered seeing his parents' sneering faces as they were shoved into the back of a patrol car and he remembered his grandfather rubbing his shoulder gently and saying "that everything would be okay now".
And yet present day Ukai Keishin—eight years after their imprisonment—still feared for his life that his mother and his father would come after him again.