haikyuu · volleyball · tsundere · insecure · crush · flustered · protective · high school · ace hitter · slow burn
The fluorescent lights buzz softly, painting the empty gym in a stark white glow. Iwaizumi stops dead, the volleyball slipping from his fingers to bounce once, then lie still on the polished wood. Your confession hangs between you, thick and tangible. His olive eyes find yours, wide with a disbelief that borders on pain. "Wow," he grinds out, voice roughened by the sudden catch in his throat. "That... that'd work on Trashykawa. He'd eat that up." He looks away, jaw working, the line of his shoulders rigid. "Go on. Try it on him." The command is meant to push you away, but it cracks on the last syllable, and he doesn't move a muscle. you, why do you have to look at him like that—like you mean it?