Yabai Koi Series
A/N: Hi! I've never really had experience whipping up a family piece, so I hope this short entry will satisfy your OikaYachi feels to some extent. ^^
Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! and its characters.
Summary: Because according to Kageyama-kun, everything about Oikawa was 'yabai'.
#6: If Iwaizumi had not strangled him half to death from one of his famous chokehold, he wondered if he would have had the guts to ask Hitoka out for that date. Probably not.
"Tōru-kun?" Hitoka called, nudging the door open with an elbow and shifting the plastic bag and her other bags in her hands. "Tōru-kun, are you home?" The door swung open silently, and she stepped inside and toed off her heels. Kicking the door shut and making sure the door was tightly closed by leaning her back against it, she slipped her feet into home slippers and walked into the kitchen to put the bags on the counter.
The bag listed sideways, spilling onto the counter with a quiet rustle. Fruits and canned goods, onions and tomatoes rolled across the counter, coming to a stop just before the edge. Resisting the urge to scream, Hitoka huffed in frustration, running a hand through her already disheveled hair. Raking her fingers through her shoulder length hair, she shrugged off the black suit she wore to work and laid it on the back of a chair. She heard shuffling coming from the hallway leading to the rooms, and a child's squeal.
A tired smile painted her lips as she heard muffled sounds of "Mommy's home. Daddy! Mommy's home!" from behind one of the doors.
"Tōru-kun, come here please! I need help with the groceries." She scooped up the food, gathering it back into the bag. In one move she swept it upright again, balancing it carefully.
Bending over to pick at a stray paper by her foot, she quickly pulled her hair back into some semblance of order, tying it with the scrunchy she kept in the pocket of her pencil skirt and straightening just in time to watch the bag hit the counter again, sending everything tumbling faster. This time however, some of them were saved the casualty of hitting the floor by a hand larger than her own, belonging to her husband who just came out of the bathroom, their four-year old girl latching onto his long leg, wetting the pajama pants he wore.
She heard one of the doors opening, and Takeru's voice called out to the small girl. "Oy, Tsumugi! You're not done yet!"
"Woah!" Her husband cried, catching as many vegetables as he could. His hands filled quickly and a few apples rolled off the counter, landing on the floor with a few dull thuds and the random splat. Hitoka winced, already envisioning the inevitable bruising and floor clean-up to come. From below them, their daughter laughed at the wet sound, brown orbs sparkling with mirth as she peered up at her mother.
"The vege go splat mommy!" Hitoka laughed as her child tried mimicking the sound by clapping her hands together, not bothering to correct her daughter that a tomato is a fruit.
Tōru's brown eyes scanned the counter, his face scrunching in confusion. "Hitoka sweetie… How come you got so many veggies? Where's the ice cream? And the pickles?" He dropped his armload unceremoniously onto the countertop with the rest, stooping to pick up the ones that fell.
He popped back up with two whole apples and a handful of mush that might have been a tomato in a previous life. The man chuckled and placed it all on the counter, rubbing the back of his head with his clean hand. "Well… at least the apples are safe."
"Yes, I suppose they are." Hitoka pulled her daughter up in her arms to plant a kiss onto her chubby cheeks, then placed her back onto the floor, tightening the loosened towel around her wet small body. "Go ask Takeru-kun to dry you up, okay?" The child took off running again into her room, side stepping her father as the man busily wiped off the splattered mess with a few tissue and a rag. She put the cans in the cupboard, turning and pulling the tub of ice cream from the bottom of the bag, miraculously unscathed. She giggled when Tōru's eyes sparkled. How he had been craving for ice cream the past few weeks out of nowhere was so random and so him.
"How was your day, Tōru-kun?"
A lone orange that somehow escaped their attention a few moments ago rolled and stopped as it hit Hitoka's foot, so she bent down to retrieve it, almost feeling Tōru's eyes on her backside. She knew him too well.
Sure enough, when she stood back up and turned around, her husband made no effort to hide the grin on his lips, a low whistle escaping his lips. "I never get tired looking at your sweet ass."
Hitoka snorted and hit his sleeved arm, the impact not quite delivered since her cheeks were pink. "You sound like an old man."
Tōru shrugged and had already reached for a spoon to scoop the ice cream into a small bowl, popping the tub back into the freezer. "Eh, the usual." He fed himself some, and proceeded to spoon some into Hitoka's mouth. She moaned in pleasure as the sweet cool treat melted in her mouth, noticing her husband biting his lower lip at the sound. She pretended she didn't see that.
He spooned some more into his mouth, and swallowed. "Tobio and your overgrown orange brat were still trying to outdo each other, completely forgetting that they are practically in the same team." Hitoka pouted when she heard him referring Hinata as such. "Don't call him that."
He finished the ice cream in two scoops, and gently tapped the back of his cool spoon against the pout. When his wife blinked rapidly at the gesture, he laughed and set the used bowl into the sink. "Well, the freak quick pair are doing well. I however, was tasked with the newcomers. They were late on the first meeting though. Makes me wonder if they really were aiming to make it to the Nationals team."
Hitoka watched silently as her husband fell silent at the mention of the Nationals team, the look in his eyes at the time was something she had witnessed countless times when he spoke of the team he was currently coaching. He sighed as his tall body slumped against the counter, his hands flat on the surface on either sides, a small smile playing on his lips. She reached a hand to cup his cheek, her other hand bunching one side of the blue long-sleeved shirt he was wearing.
"Was your knee acting up again?" She asked, her voice gentle as her hand that was bunching his shirt trailed down his thigh, stopping on his left knee. He felt the familiar tingling on the small scar left there, hidden underneath his pants.
He was supposed to be on the same team as the oddball duo. He was offered a spot to join the Men's National Team and offers poured in from universities all over the Tohoku and Kanto region the moment he graduated high school. He could have picked any one of them, and pursue his Volleyball career. It was his dream to pursue the sport, it was his life. Everyone was testament to this side of him.
But Fate, oh Fate, was nothing if not cruel.
He had been on his way back from the entrance exam at Tohoku University, when he had seen the pair of yellow hats on the street. If he could stop time, at that moment, he would have bitched about what kind of parents would let their kindergarten children roam around the streets without adult supervision. He would have punched them for not keeping an eye on them, and he would have scolded the kids for not checking the lights first before crossing but no. He could not do any of those, and he could have, really, he could have just let someone else save the kids. Preferably a passerby whose life didn't revolve around sports. However, while Tōru Oikawa knew he could be a pompous ass sometimes, he was not selfish.
So Fate had decided to pull a fast one on him, and destined that he sprinted towards the small children, their yellow caps still in the middle of the road as they froze, petrified at the red truck furiously honking away. He was fast enough to pull the kids to the sidewalk, and the next thing he knew he was avoiding an approaching car that had appeared from nowhere and then his left knee had burned, it had burned so much he could still feel the tear whenever he thought about what had happened ten years ago.
He could still remember the smiles and laughter he had hid behind to fool everyone into thinking that he was fine. That even though he could no longer run as much as he wanted to, that his dreams to keep playing Volleyball was crushed along with his knee, Tōru Oikawa had accepted his fate. For a few months during his rehabilitation he had thought that his life was over, until he met a very persistent girl with star-shaped clips in her hair.
Friends and family had helped him recover little by little, but she was the one who instilled in him the desire to not stop there. If she hadn't suggested that he could go into coaching and train players that were as amazing as he was, he probably wouldn't be where he was now. He also had Iwaizumi to thank for kicking him in the butt whenever he started to feel gloomy again.
Noticing that he hadn't answer her yet, Tōru nodded as he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close to him, trapping her petite body in between his long legs. Her brown eyes were clear as she peered up into his own, and he knew he couldn't escape her question. "A little. I was playing a set with half of them to get the trainees into the game."
Instead of pinching his thigh like she usually would when he would do something similar, Hitoka smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"
He grinned back. "Hell yeah."
They could hear their daughter squealing with laughter, no doubt playing with Takeru. They both chuckled when they heard the teenager whine, "Again?! Sheesh!"
Sighing, Hitoka buried her face into his chest, the hectic day earlier at the office forgotten as she listened to his steady heartbeat. She felt him shift a little and then his left hand was pulling off her scrunchy, before running his fingers through her blonde strands. Their daughter had Tōru's hair and eyes, but the girl had Hitoka's height.
"I'm glad you had fun. It's good to let loose sometimes, right?"
Hitoka felt the rumble in his chest as he hummed distractedly, and she peered up at him. A beatific smile lit up her face, when she suddenly said "I love you." For a moment Tōru was speechless. It always seemed to hit him how sincere her expressions were whenever she said those words. She could have been rolling in mud and stank of sweat and say those words to him over and over again through the course of their relationship but it would never cease to amaze him. His eyes dropped to her lips, watching the remnants of her lip gloss glisten.
"I love you too."
The beaming smile she gave him did him in.
Stooping, he caught her lips in his, his hand in her hair holding her head in place as he slanted his lips over her. Hitoka moved both her hands to rest on his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt as she drew him in for more. When he felt her nipping at his lower lip, he almost smirked. That part of his wife turned him on like nothing, and he tightened his arm around her, practically plastering her body into his. Their tongues were twining against each other in a sensuous slide, and he could have stayed there all night making out like teenagers. He would have, but a nagging in the back of his head told him to stop since Takeru was still there. He faintly registered the fact that Tsumugi was quiet.
Tōru pulled away scant inches, looking down into Hitoka's face. Her hair was slightly mussed, and that lovely blush had made a re-appearance. She looked good enough to eat.
"Ugh, get a room will ya?"
Takeru's voice jarred the attention he had on his small wife, and lazily he dragged his eyes to look at his nephew. The bald kid grew up to be quite the looker, if he had to say so himself. Hitoka once said that Takeru looked exactly like he would if he had been a bit shorter and chubbier. He cleared his throat, unsure if his voice was okay and spoke up from the counter.
"Is Tsumugi asleep?"
"Yeah, soundly. Thanks to me."
His wife untangled herself from him, and helped the teenager gather his textbooks that cluttered the coffee table, making idle chat with him. When his nephew told her about a girl who had confessed to him earlier that day, Hitoka laughed.
Takeru blushed a little.
Tōru was positive his nephew had a crush on his wife.
He didn't know when it started, but it was surely during the time he had spent helping the young parents take care of Tsugumi. He called out to his nephew from the kitchen and asked if the teenager would need a ride to the nearest station.
"Nah, I'll be jogging back home."
"Ooh, your tournament's in a few weeks huh? Kick some ass yeah?"
Hitoka watched silently as her husband bumped fist with his eldest nephew, smiling a bit when they both laughed at a joke Takeru cracked. There were a few playful jabs exchanged between them, before Takeru was out of the door. Tōru closed the door, and mumbled that he was hungry as he poked his head into the fridge. She rolled the sleeves of her lilac shirt, and started towards the kitchen.
"I'll whip up some yakisoba for you if you want."
Her husband shook his head. Planting his hands on her shoulders, he spun her around and pushed her towards their bedroom. "No, I can handle this. You go take a hot shower and change into something comfortable. I won't be able to hold back if I have to spend another hour watching you in that skirt."
She laughed, and disappeared into a door. When he could hear the showers, he finally reached for a knife and started cutting some spring onions for the yakisoba. While he was not as adept in housework as his wife was, but he had helped out a lot to know how to cook some dishes. Like yakisoba and miso soup, though his skills were limited to those. Oh, and a sunny side egg. He could whip up a mean sunny side whenever breakfast was on him.
He smiled resignedly as he watched the onions and pieces of chicken sizzle on the pan. Never in a million years would he have imagined living a life with her. Although there were times he did hate it when his knee would act up, he was thankful that he had a family to come back to. The days when he had felt too hard to move on seemed so far behind now.
If he had not caught Hitoka that one night when she was trying to help Hinata and Kageyama sneak into the hospital to visit him when they couldn't make time in the day, Tōru wondered if he would have pursued professional coaching.
If Iwaizumi had not strangled him half to death from one of his famous chokehold, he wondered if he would have had the guts to ask Hitoka out for that date.
Probably not.
A/N: There you go, as promised. The next entry is about done, but I'll hold back for a few days. Please drop a review since they're brownie points for us writers. *wink *wink