Hello! I'm Shannon. I'm back with another Haikyuu! fic. This fic has mature themes that I have posted online a bit bravely. I hope that in your comments, you take the subject matter of this fiction seriously. If you have any questions for me about why I may be writing this, or how explicit the story gets, please feel free to leave a comment or email me at shanging1 gmail. com
Also: for returning readers, I changed the format of the first few chapters, so I advise you to reread. I took away some of the information that I had previously given you at the beginning.

Tsukishima never enjoyed playing the game. The game of life, that is. He would always watch as his classmates smiled and waved, those sickly sweet grins plastered like masks upon their gruesome, conniving faces. He never trusted them. Too many times had he witnessed fallen friendships and back-stabs to ever consider putting himself at risk to petty things like emotional trauma. He would never be in the position of having his heart broken over a friend's bitter words, said in secret to others desperate to stir up trouble. So he made his stinging words let others know from the get-go just how much he cared. Not to say he didn't wear a mask of his own. He did, and a heavier one than most. So heavy his shoulders would sag by the end of the day from the tedious task of keeping it up. His mask was different from others, though. It was angry and apathetic. Today it was getting quite the workout.

"How are your grades, son?" his Uncle pried, wiping a clean line down the side of his glass through the cloud of moisture. Tsukishima eyed it greedily. What he would give to have a cool glass of alcohol right about now; the icy jolt on his fingers and the droplets of water gathering in a pool on the bottom of the cup and running down his arm, cooling his hot skin on its journey. His mouth watered at the thought.

It had to be at least 90 degrees outside, and with no AC to cool him down he was sweating like a pig. He hated the feeling of sweat. It was sticky and a little smelly, as of late. His 13th birthday was coming up soon, and even though he loved the responsibility his parents were beginning to give him, this new age also came with some troublesome new additions. Such as smelly sweat. He knew the odor hung all around him and the thought of others smelling it brought a slight blush to his pale cheeks, which to his relief could be passed off as the heat's doing. He tried his best to keep his arms glued to his sides anyway, despite the increasing moisture in his armpits, to avoid giving anybody a nasty waft. He shook himself out of his thoughts, looking back up to his older relative coldly.

"My grades are fine." He kept his tone level and tried to tell himself, for the fifth time, that nobody would notice the stench.

His uncle laughed awkwardly, unsure of what to say in response. Tsukishima knew this was the result of the mask that he so perfectly maintained. It always ended like this. They would laugh, or blush, and then find an excuse to stop the stilted conversation before they made themselves look too stupid. He stopped himself from yawning. His uncle was so normal.

"How about I get you a drink? You look hot," he said, fingers playing with the hem of his stained polo shirt. The tension was palpable.

Tsukishima nodded and leaned back on the counter he was standing, returning his gaze to where his immediate family and some relatives they met up with once a year were playing volleyball out on the sand. He nearly groaned when he saw his brother trip over his own feet and fall face first into the sand in a mess of flailing limbs. Shouts of laughter echoed over to where Tsukishima sulked, and he caught his mother's eye. She beckoned with a hand for him to come over and join them, as she had been begging him to do for the past hour, but he shook his head at her and looked to the floor. He told himself that he just didn't want to get a sunburn, but he knew it wasn't the truth. He felt uncomfortable trying to play family with all these strangers, and he was almost repelled by the way they smiled at him and laughed as if he knew them. They knew nothing about him and they should act like it.

"Here's your drink! I just got you a lemonade, I hope you don't mind." His uncle returned with an icy drink and Tsukishima accepted it with a curt nod, almost eagerly taking it into his sweaty palms and craving the cool feeling of the glass against his skin. He mouthed at the straw before taking a long sip, and he nearly sighed at the feeling of the cold liquid quenching his thirst.

"You should really go out there and join them! I'm sure it'll take your mind off the heat. Isn't that right, Akiteru?!" His Uncle shouted the last part out toward the sand where his family was standing, panting between a round of the game.

Aki turned towards him, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to catch his breath and his cheeks tinged pink from laughter and sun. "Kei, if you don't come out here right now, I swear I will drag you over here myself. You'll love this, I just know it!" There were a few breathy murmurs of agreement from relatives which Tsukishima tried to ignore.

Tsukishima tried to, but he couldn't. His brother, his amazing big brother, that even now despite his seemingly aloof nature, he admired with all his heart, had practically ordered him to come out and play volleyball, and he wasn't about to argue with him. So he took another big sip of the sweet lemonade and set it on the counter before emerging out from under the canopy to join his relatives. He could already feel his skin heated up even more by the searing sun and he pushed up his glasses for the umpteenth time. He hated sweat for that reason, too.

"Fine then. Where do you want me to stand?"

Akiteru scratched his chin for a moment before pointing towards the net. "Stand there. You're pretty tall. Try and block the ball!"

He gave his brother a lazy thumbs up before ambling over to the place in front of the net he had pointed to. He watched as his mother served up a slow ball and he only hoisted himself slightly out of the sand to block it from coming onto their side. He nearly scoffed at her, but reminded himself that he couldn't act eager now; his entire family would tease him about it for days.

Once again the opposing team served up the ball, lousily so, and Tsukishima blocked it with ease.

"I knew you would be an asset to our team!" Akiteru cheered, pumping his fists with enthusiasm. "I keep telling him he should play volleyball for his school team but he doesn't listen! Look at him, he's great!" He addressed the relatives. Some Aunt of his chuckled heartily.

The tall blond rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, stepping over to pick up the ball from where it rolled to a stop. This was too easy. He tossed it to his brother, and for a moment- just a moment- he savored the rough texture of the ball on his smooth, unworked palms. He decided then and there he could get used to it. Not that his family needed to know that. At a quick glance to his teammates, he surmised that he was overdressed and bent over to untie his sneakers and toss them and his socks to the sidelines. Some grandfather of his clucked his tongue at him and hobbled over to pick them up. Tsukishima felt no remorse.

"Alright!" an Aunt on his team shouted. Tsukishima suppressed the urge to gag. Like she was doing anything useful for their team.

His brother served up the ball, much more gracefully than his other relatives, and the other team struggled to receive it. When the ball whizzed over the net past Tsukishima's reaching fingertips, he couldn't help but feel an inkling of some emotion he hadn't felt in a long time. Disappointment? No, he had had his fair share of that. Anger? Of course not. Motivation? He supposed that was a better word than any to describe that little spark of desire he had just felt. He couldn't help but frown a bit at the ball as his Aunt dove for it and lifted it into the air, and when another teammate set it, he took the opportunity to spike it from his position at the front of the net. It hurt his hand a bit, and he shook it out as he watched the ball speed to the ground and make an indent in the sand. He dug his toes into it, watching as the little biting grains drifted between his toes and over the pale skin of his foot. It was almost as nice as the sting that accompanied smacking that rough volleyball.

"...Hellooo?" Akiteru's mocking voice brought the little brother out of his reverence.

Tsukishima pushed his ever sliding glasses up his face and turned to his brother, scowl set on his face. "What."

"Get your head in the game, bro!"

Tsukishima grit his teeth together and stormed out of the faux court, the dramaticness made slightly less effective by his sluggish sand-slowed pace. "I'm done. It's too hot out here for me."

Akiteru watched his little brother collect his shoes and then turned back to the game, visibly suppressing a sigh. Tsukishima ignored it and jogged toward the canopy to escape the sun's angry glare.

It was fun while it lasted. And it was true that the sun was getting to be too much. Tsukishima feared that if he stayed out any longer he would be graced with the presence of a sunburn and peeling skin, and he wanted to avoid those consequences at all costs. However, a part of him longed to ignore the blistering heat and continue playing until his muscles burned and he was just as winded as the rest of his family. But he held himself back. He was smarter than them, and he knew when his body was at his limit.

Tsukishima's nosy uncle had since wandered away from the canopy, and to his relief, he was left alone, if only for a few minutes. He returned to his tasty drink and slurped it up through the straw, savoring the wetness even more now that he had exercised. Without even realizing it he had worked up a sweat from the game that overrode any embarrassing heat sweats, making him almost soaked from head to toe. It was odd to Tsukishima that it didn't feel too uncomfortable.

"Kei, dear?" Tsukishima turned to find his mother hobbling over to him with several duffle bags slung over her shoulders and arms. "We're going to be leaving soon. I want you to ride with me; I need to talk to you about something." There was something in her tone that made Tsukishima halt in his tracks.

The blond's eyes narrowed at her, and he couldn't help the tensing in his shoulders at her words. He couldn't remember doing anything bad lately, besides taunting his classmates and skipping dinner every now and then. But that was just rebellious teenage behavior. Surely his mother knew that... Tsukishima squinted his eyes as he thought back, with slightly shaking fingers, to the last thing he had done that could have gotten him in trouble. His eyes widened. Had he forgotten to clear his internet history? A few nights ago, he had been searching a wide range of things out of mere curiosity, but those little things had led him to more drastic things, and soon it led to him making some tentative assumptions about himself. He clenched his fists at the thought of his family finding out.

He finally forced himself to answer back. "Is there something wrong?"

She glanced up at him from where she stood hunched over the scattered crumb filled paper plates and flashed him a quick smile, much to her son's relief. "Everything's fine, honey, I just had something I needed to ask you. Don't worry about it."

Tsukishima nodded slowly at her, pushing up his glasses, and sat down onto one of the splintery picnic benches. His gaze travelled down to his hand, and he flashed back to minutes ago when he had smacked the volleyball right out of the air. He turned his hand over so that he was looking at the palm, and nearly smiled when he saw that the skin was red and irritated. It was almost like proof that he saved those balls from falling into their territory. Only for himself, of course, but he was never one to seek validation from others.

He heard a scraping from where his mother was working and he glanced up through the top of his glasses to see his mother push back from her seat and stand up. She turned around, once again loaded down with duffle bags, and smiled at him again. "Ready to go?"

"Yup."

They walked down the dusty pathway to the parking lot, which was, in Tsukishima's opinion, undeserving of it's name, as it was literally just a fenced off section of the beach. A loud thud of the trunk opening accompanied his mother's grunt of effort and he almost felt bad for not helping, but he fell back and watched her hoist her luggage into the trunk before unlocking the doors. Tsukishima had gotten used to his mom taking her time to unlock car doors, so he had long since given up on trying to get in before she did. At the sound of the click of the car locks, he yanked open the door, wincing at the heat of the metal, and climbed inside. Instantly he began to sweat again from the burn of the leather seats and the thick, musty air of the inside of the car. He watched as his mother climbed in and cranked up the AC and he adjusted his air vents so they were blowing on his face. It felt amazing.

"Man, it's hot out today!" His mother remarked. He just grunted in response.

Tsukishima watched out the side window as his family, loaded down with the rest of today's materials, climbed up the beaten pathway to the parking lot to clamber into the other beaten up van they had brought. He didn't envy them. Meanwhile, his mother pulled out of the driveway and started up an empty road. It was the middle of nowhere out here, so it wasn't surprising to Tsukishima that no people were out driving, however it was a bit eerie. He suppressed a shiver.

Shadows of trees bent over the road and fields stretched for miles upon miles on one side, while the beach continued for a long time on the other. The sun danced off the water as the waves rolled over the gold sand. Honestly Tsukishima wanted the summer to end. It was just too hot. Way too hot.

After waiting a few moments with no word from his mother, Tsukishima, who was anxious and jumpy, decided to start the discussion himself. "So. What did you want to talk to me about?" It was better to get it over with than be nervous the whole car ride, he surmised.

The blond watched as his mother huffed out a breath of air and her lips pressed together in a firm line. Her eyes softened a bit, and she glanced over at him before she spoke.

"Your father and I have been wondering... if you are being affected by that thing that happened when you were younger." She kept her eyes glued ahead and Tsukishima raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Tsukishima wracked his brain for a few moments, but nothing came to mind. He hated this. He hated not understanding. And he hated the fact that his parents were talking about him.

"What are you talking about?" The words fell out of his lips like a weight, and for a moment he almost wished he didn't ask. But it was too late, and whatever it was his mom thought he was plagued by would be called to mind. He almost wanted to speak out to her, to stop her from telling him, but he didn't let himself. He was also curious and did not want to be left out of the loop, so he let her speak.

"Don't you remember?" Her brows furrowed and she licked her lips. She tended to do that a lot when she was under pressure.

Tsukishima wiped his sweaty hands off on his shorts and took a deep breath. "What is it?"

His mother shook her head. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you, then."

The hands of his that were resting on his shorts tightened around the fabric as he fought back a loud protest.

"Please tell me, mom."

She worried her lip between her teeth and snuck another, almost sad, glance at her son.

"You don't remember? Jirou?"

Tsukishima's eyes widened and the fists that were woven around the cloth of his pants loosened. Oh yeah. Jirou was his brother's old friend. He had moved away years ago, but he had been there once. And he wasn't allowed to come over to their house. And even though Tsukishima had always respected him, he wasn't as perfect as he seemed at a first glance. He had- The blond unconsciously brought a hand up to cover his mouth and he said nothing, just stared straight ahead at the empty country road unblinking as his sweaty fingers began to shake harder. He pressed his fingers harder to his face to hide the tremors.

"Mom... Did I get-" His mother's eyes widened and she brought a finger up to her mouth to silence him.

Tsukishima's throat tightened a bit at the simple gesture. Was she embarrassed by him? He supposed it made sense, given that he was a boy. And at this horrifying revelation, his jaw dropped. Weeks ago, when he had been on the computer and searching around the web out of mere curiosity, he had come across the article about homosexuality. And he had thought that maybe, just maybe, that was what he was. Was this why he was gay? Did Jirou corrupt him forever? Tears welled in his eyes and he stifled a sob as the knot in his throat tightened.

"I shouldn't have told you..." she sighed.

He shook his head just slightly, enough for his mom to see, and let out a little sound that sounded something like a sob or a sigh. He wasn't so sure himself. He quickly brought up a hand to wipe the tears out of his eyes before they fell and turned toward his mother again.

"Did that... really happen?" he couldn't help but ask.

She nodded grimly, turning on her turn signal. The little clicking was soon the only noise to be heard in the car, and Tsukishima found himself listening to it desperately, as if it was the only thing holding him in place. He just had to focus on something else.

"Well, I didn't even remember it happened until now." He couldn't help the bitterness in his tone. He knew that it wasn't his mother's fault that he remembered. She only brought it up out of concern for him. And yet he still felt a stirring anger in his stomach that was only growing.

She sighed, "Kei. I'm sorry. I was planning to ask you if you wanted to go to therapy or something like that. I didn't know it was going to end up like this. I assumed you still remembered."

Tsukishima shook his head slowly, resisting the ever-growing urge to roll his eyes.

"Nope."

"Then we can just drop it." Her hands tightened around the steering wheel, and the ticking stopped.

Tsukishima pinched his nose between his fingers. "Sounds good to me."

The next few minutes were spent in silence, with thoughts racing around the boy's head.

How had he forgotten something so important? Was it on purpose? Did he purposely block it out? That type of thing actually happened? Jirou... When he was younger he hadn't been able to understand what was done to him, but he did now. He felt a bit nauseous thinking about it. He was a statistic now. He always had been, really. It was just that he hadn't remember it until now. He had been sexually assaulted.

He squeezed his eyes shut. That sounded so foreign to him. Never in a million years had he imagined it would have happened to him. He may have even forgotten it happened if he didn't tell his mother about it in the first place. Tsukishima once again found himself regretting naively telling the secret.

Bits and pieces of the incident were starting to flash behind his clenched eyes and he nearly let another sob escape.

He remembered that it was under a couch. And then that office Dad used to work in. He remembered the feeling of his shorts being pinched open and that moist breath hitting his neck, and the way he didn't feel ashamed; just bored.

Tsukishima's eyes snapped open. Could it even be considered sexual assault, then, or had he been asking for it? He buried his face in his hands, and he noted he could still feel a faint tingling of the skin on his hand where he played volleyball.

He thought about that for a moment. Akiteru laughing behind him, the sun's rays beating down on his sticky skin. His skin was still sticky under the coolness of the AC. His breath was moist on my neck.

No. The dry roughness of the ball as it passed over his pale hand, the fear in his opponent's eye. That was what he wanted to remember. He was almost bored with how easy it was to stop that ball from coming into their side of the net. I just wanted it to stop. I was bored and I wanted to play Tales of Symphonia.

Enough. The cool bite of the burning sand on his bare toes, slipping in between them and sticking a bit to the sweaty skin there. He could do that again. Heck, even if it wasn't on the sand; even if it was on a court, the way that Akiteru kept begging him to play volleyball, he would do it. He loved it. Even if it was just a distraction, he would use it. And then he decided.

"Mom. I think I might sign up for the volleyball team at my school next year." He said it out loud so he couldn't back out. Because he knew he would try to. He had always been filled with this fear of being rejected, fear of being snickered, fear of being betrayed. It's why he kept his mask so perfectly maintained. But now, was the mask really necessary? He had been betrayed in the worst possible way; even if it happened a thousand times over, that petty pain would be nothing compared to the sheer agony of that first betrayal.

His mom glanced at him, surprised. "Why is that?"

Tsukishima thought for a moment. Why was he doing this? He could just listen to music to keep those memories out of his head, or maybe start drawing again like he used to in Elementary School. Was this really necessary? He finally settled on the one thought he was 100% sure of.

"Today was a lot of fun."

This is based on my own childhood experiences, and I was originally not going to post, but since I put so much work into it I decided to share it with others who may relate to Kei's story, or want to learn how to help. (I sound all official right now, but I am usually very peppy in my author's notes, to the point where it's obnoxious.)

You can find me at haikiuyu . tumblr . com
Please comment so I know what you guys like and want me to do differently!