All Bark and no Bite
Category: Romantic Fluff
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Characters: Hitoka Yachi, Kentarou Kyotani
Hello, everybody! Here is my story for the @hqrarepair2021! I had a great time writing for my favorite rarepair. Be sure to check out the art by my partner @aishiriadanielle, which you can find here!
Hitoka hummed a peppy tune under her breath as she stood on her tip-toes, the tape stuck to her fingers fluttering in the breeze as she pressed her flyer on the window. Holding it still with her elbow, she then plucked the pieces of tape off her fingers and placed them on the corners, one at a time. She smoothed over the paper with her palms to make sure there were no air gaps that would crinkle it, then stepped back to admire her handiwork. In the center of the various flyers advertising town events and Karasuno High School teams slathering the convenience store window was Hitoka’s pride and joy— her flyer showcasing Shouyou’s out-of-this-world jump silhouetted against an illuminated court.
“This will surely get people’s attention!” She grinned to herself, pumping her fist and wiggling her hips in a little happy dance.
After trouncing Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa in the spring preliminaries, Karasuno High School Volleyball Club was now well on its way to the final tournament in spring. They still had a few months to go, but Hitoka wanted to get a head start on advertising the team’s achievement and upcoming battle. She knew that a lot of powerful teams would be there, so she hoped to keep it fresh in people’s minds so that they drew in a huge support crowd at the tournament. “A big crowd is great for morale,” she trilled to herself and waggled a finger knowingly while turning away from the window.
Her self-satisfaction proved her undoing, however, as the wind blew several of her pretty flyers right out of her hands.
“Ah! Oh no! Come back!” She cried and took off in a run after the pacers fluttered in the breeze. Her flats pounded against the sidewalk as she chased them, hopping up to try and snatch them out the air. She managed to catch two, but the last one turned and went down an alleyway when the wind shifted. However, the three walls of the small passageway stopped the wind short, so when Hitoka arrived in the entryway, huffing and puffing, the sheet of paper was slowly fluttering down to the ground.
“Jeez,” she panted and pushed a stray piece of her honey-blonde hair off her sweaty forehead. “That’s one way to get exercise, I guess!” Keeping a hand flat on the stack of papers to make sure she didn’t have a repeat of that little fiasco, she walked into the alley to retrieve her last wayward flyer. “There you are,” she smiled when she leaned down to pluck it off the grimy cobblestone ground. She slid it on top of the stack of flyers, then patted the top. “Now, let’s not do that again…”
She took a moment to stretch out her back, aching slightly from an afternoon of walking around town, by bending down to touch her toes with her free hand. She hummed in satisfaction as she felt the stiff muscles around her spine unwind and her vertebrae decompress. “That’s better,” she sighed, slowly lifting herself back up. She froze, however, when she felt someone place their hands on her hips from behind.
“Don’t mind me, darlin’,” the stranger drawled, alcohol slurring his words. “I was just admiring the view.” Her face turned beet red as she felt him brush his pelvis over her backside, the fabric of his jeans catching the bare skin above her knee-high stockings. With a yelp, she wrenched away from him; either he wasn’t trying hard, or the alcohol made his movements lax, as she slipped right free of his large hands to stumble a few feet down the alley. She whipped around, eyes owlish with fright, to see three college-aged men crowding the entrance. Apparently they’d been indulging in some day-drinking, based on the beer bottle one of them was lackadaisically twirling in his left hand.
“Hey, hey, now,” the same man that had grabbed her hips piped up while holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “There ain’t no need to be frightened. We just wanted to invite you out to have a bit of fun, cutie.”
“No, thank you,” Hitoka said, wishing there was more bite in her voice; the words came out shaky, unconfident. She held the stack of flyers to her chest as if to shield her, but their hungry gazes felt like they pierced everything, straight down to her quivering soul. “I’m not interested. I’m very busy hanging up these flyers, so…”
“Why don’t you let us help you with that?” The one on his left offered, his wide smile brandishing unbrushed, beer-stained teeth that sent a shiver crawling up her spine. “Then, in return, you can have a few drinks with us, girlie.”
“I-I’m not of age…”
“Bahhhh,” the third man said while tipping his head back to pour the last dregs of his beer into his open mouth. Hitoka watched with a nauseous feeling as the amber-colored liquid poured out the bottle to splash onto his awaiting tongue. He then flung the bottle aside; she jumped violently when it smashed into smithereens against the brick wall. He dropped his head down, beer dripping from the corners of his lips. “We won’t tell anyone, cutie. It’ll be our secret,” he promised and licked his lips with a ravenous glare.
Hitoka backed a few paces into the alleyway, but the shadows couldn’t wrap her up and spirit her away no matter how much she wanted them to. She was like a cornered mouse, and these three feral cats were playing a game of who would have her first.
“P-please,” she pleaded, her voice no more than a strangled whisper. Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes and she clenched the papers tight, crinkling some of the edges. “P-please, I just want… I just want to leave, please, you don’t have to do this…”
“Do what?” The first man mocked. His footfalls were heavy and deliberate, albeit unsteady, as he staggered towards her. “You’re makin’ us sound like criminals, darlin’.” Hitoka kept edging backwards until she hit the grime-coated backwall, and even then she pressed into it like she could melt right through. But she couldn’t; the brick scratched at her skin and pressed the fabric of her shirt into the indents. Their shadows elongated to fall over her, black and ominous, and she quailed before them. She trembled as they reached for her, their hungry grins shining white even in the gloom of the alley.
A loud, long screeeeeeeeeech made them freeze with their fingers inches from Hitoka’s shuddering form.
The three men whirled around, giving Hitoka a view of the alley’s entrance. There was another threatening screeeeeeeeeech as Kentarou Kyoutani drew the crowbar along the wall, sending sparks raining down to the cobblestone as it scratched deep into the brick. Hitoka could see the fierce look in his golden eyes even from the considerable distance, the absolutely murderous glint making them shine like topazes in the hard-set stone of his expression.
“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you fuckin’ deadbeats that ‘no’ means ‘no’?” He growled, tapping the crowbar against the side of his leg. “Beat it, before I beat you.”
Hitoka would think that the sight of a very pissed off Mad Dog would make even the most stout of men tremble, but these college boys were either too drunk or too stubborn to submit to a high school student. The one that approached Hitoka first snorted in derision as he looked Kentarou up and down, but despite the aura of bravado he was trying to maintain, she could see the bead of sweat bloom on his temple and go running down his alcohol-flushed face.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? You this girlie’s boyfriend or sumn’? Go back to the crib you crawled out of, brat, ‘cuz we’ll show your honey a grand ol’ time.” He turned to throw his arms around Hitoka’s shoulders, but thanks to Kentarou’s surprise appearance, she’d regained a little bit of her wits. She ducked underneath his uncoordinated swing and scampered through the gap between them, narrowly dodging the fingers that groped at her pleated skirt. She scurried over to Kentarou, hiding behind his broad form and clutching at the hem of his tee shirt. He glanced down at her, then looked back at the three college students.
“Looks like she’s not interested. Fuckin’ scumbags, you’re lucky I don’t crack your fuckin’ skulls open for this,” he snorted. When the three men inched forward like they were going to try and fight, Kentarou smashed the crowbar into the side of the nearby dumpster, filling the alley with a deafening ring. The drunkards yowled in fright and stumbled backward; they ended up slipping on the damp discard newspapers clinging to the floors and falling right on their rumps. “Stay here with the trash, where you belong,” Kentarou sneered, then flung the crowbar aside as the three men just nodded eagerly and continued to huddle in the crumpled-up newspapers.
Hitoka jumped slightly when Kentarou looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. She continued to paw at the hem of his tee-shirt, clinging to it like a lifeline despite the fact it was worn by one of the most intimidating guys on the planet. If he minded, he didn’t say. He just gazed down at her, his golden eyes gleaming as he murmured, “Did they hurt you?”
The fear from the scary situation was beginning to catch up to her. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, like it was coated in lead. She swallowed several times but it felt like the lump lodged in her throat only grew bigger. Tears bloomed in the corners of her eyes once more when she realized just how close she’d come to a very nasty attack— but Kentarou had saved her, so she managed to wrangle enough control of her body to give him an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
Maybe Hitoka was growing delirious from fright because she swore she saw Kentarou’s lips creep up into a soft smile.
“Come with me,” he ordered, setting a big hand on the small of her back to nudge her gently out of the alley. It was a good thing, too, because Hitoka’s legs felt like jelly; she stumbled out into the sun with wobbly legs, knees knocking and feet shaking. However, Kentarou’s hand on her lower back, the warmth seeping from his broad palm through the cotton of her shirt, cemented her to reality enough for her to not completely collapse. He said nothing while he escorted her several blocks away from the alleyway, giving Hitoka enough time to fully process the event and find herself back down to earth.
He exclaimed in shock when she suddenly sunk down to her knees and released a loud sob.
“That was so scary!” she howled. The dam finally burst in her ears, sending fat, bulbous tears rolling down her cheeks. They pooled under her chin before they coalesced into a quivering drop, which plummeted to the neckline of her cotton shirt to stain the white collar light gray. She could feel the fabric slowly drenching as tear after tear dropped onto her shirt, but she couldn’t stop the flood of water rolling down her ruddying cheeks. She heaved desperate, hiccuping breaths between wracking sobs that sent her whole body spasming in tremors. “Th-they… th-they were gonna…” She didn’t even want to finish the thought, so she punctuated it with another scream-like howl of despair.
Kentarou’s brain couldn’t decide what expression it wanted to make as he stood over her, just watching her cry pitifully in the middle of the sidewalk. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed that they nearly brushed together, and the corner of his mouth was curled up in a painful, almost constipated look. Passersby gave them a wide berth, casting furtive glances and whispering about a potential lovers’ quarrel or temper tantrum. Hitoka was too distraught to give the gossiping people any mind; she was consumed with what had just happened, the faces of those gross men swimming before her waking eyes.
Kentarou shuffled his feet and scratched at the back of his neck, mouth opening and closing a few times with only distressed noises coming out. He then loudly cleared his throat and squatted down, elbows resting on his knees.
“Hey… Karasuno’s manager…” he muttered. Hitoka actually didn’t hear him over her continuous sobbing; she’d tipped back her head to just scream pitifully at the sky. Kentarou’s face flushed slightly and he cleared his throat louder, and when that didn’t work, snapped his fingers several times in front of her nose with a sharp bark of “Oi!”
Hitoka immediately clamped her mouth shut and snapped her head forward, eyes watering and lips quivering. Kentarou’s cheeks darkened at her sorry state, and he rubbed the back of his neck again while he carefully chose his next words. “Pl-please stop crying,” he asked, almost begging. “We’re in the middle of town, yanno…”
Hitoka couldn’t really find it within herself to care.
“B-but… B-but I…” she sniffled petulantly. She flinched when his face screwed up in a scowl, expecting him to yell at her. He caught himself, though, when she scrunched up into herself in fear; he tipped his head back to inhale sharply through his nose, allowing the rush of air to cool the irritation welling up inside of him. He took a moment, then looked back down at her, his golden eyes softening despite the stoniness of his expression.
“Those pieces of shit can’t hurt you while I’m here.” There was a strange gentleness to his voice despite the seriousness in his face, one that grounded Hitoka. Her eyelashes fluttered, tears still clinging to the thin blonde strands like dewdrops, as she took a few shaky breaths. He’s right… They’re gone now… I’m okay… she told herself. She managed to quiet her sobs to small, hiccupy sniffles, but though she tried to staunch her tears completely, they still leaked from her red, puffy eyes.
Kentarou tilted his head slightly, a touch of discomfort bleeding into his expression. “Do… Do you want me to… stay with you for a while?” He offered in a quiet mumble while a haze of pink appeared on his cheeks. This time, Hitoka’s throat squeezed tight with gratitude; a fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes and dripped down her cheeks when she nodded eagerly. She didn’t really know Kentarou that well—in fact, she’d found him quite intimidating during the match with Aoba Johsai—but she really didn’t feel comfortable yet being alone… even if her company had to be the infamous Mad Dog.
Kentarou patted his thighs, then boosted himself into a standing position. He then extended his hand to Hitoka in a silent offer to help her up. She took his hand gladly, as her legs still felt like sticks of jelly attached to her hips. His hand was rough and calloused from years of volleyball, but there was a warmth and gentleness to his touch that sent a soothing feeling spreading up Hitoka’s arm and flooding through her body to make her all warm and fuzzy. He gently pulled her to her feet, then slid his arm up the length of her forearm to skip over to the small of her back again—a slightly possessive move that was a silent warning to anyone else who dared think they could mess with Hitoka, and one she appreciated.
“Thank you,” she murmured shyly, finally having enough wits to realize she hadn’t expressed her gratitude for saving her. “I was in a real pinch back there…”
“Thugs like that hang around here,” he shrugged indifferently and glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the alley, as if to make sure they hadn’t mustered their courage to try and come after them. “Although, I’ve never seen them hassle a girl this early in the day. Those bastards were bold.” Hitoka’s body sagged, and she inadvertently leaned a little into his side, causing the broad arm looped loosely around her back to slide closer to her hip. It should have been embarrassing, but there was something so comforting about the loose embrace that it superseded propriety in her fear-addled mind.
Kentarou could apparently tell that she was beginning to slip back into a panic attack, probably based on the small shudder that traveled up her spine at his words. He grunted awkwardly, then pushed slightly into her back to nudge her down the sidewalk. “Do… Do you like ice cream?” he asked, looking away; she could see his ears turn slightly red from embarrassment, though, which made her smile slightly. He’s a lot shyer than he looks!
“Yeah, I do. There’s a little shop on the corner here, right?” Somehow, she’d managed to hang onto her stack of flyers throughout the ordeal, and she hugged them to her chest. “I like that place…”
“Then let’s go.” He pressed his large hand into her back again, fingers spreading over the entirety of her lower back and ghosting the edge of her spine. She felt like a tiny porcelain doll next to him, but he treated her with such gentleness and care with each of his movements and words that she felt strangely… cherished. He kept his hand on her back as they moseyed down the concrete path, both a guide for her wobbly legs and an anchor to the reality that she was safe as long as he was with her. She found the tears welling up again so she dropped her head a little to hide her watery eyes. Kentarou was all but a stranger to her, yet he was taking the time out of his day to let her decompress from the frightening encounter and offer himself as a shield. He’s really… kind…
“Um… My name is Hitoka, by the way,” she said after a minute of walking in silence. His golden eyes flickered down to peer at her through his peripherals, but his expression remained that same stoic, almost contemplative visage.
“You can call me Kentarou,” he said, then looked straight ahead again. Something about the simple statement made her heart flutter like a bird in her chest. Heat rose to her face to paint her cheeks in pink, and the corners of her lips tugged up into a shy smile. Silently, she rolled his name over her tongue, appreciating how it did so. She fiddled with the corners of the flyers as she walked, trying to concentrate on the breeze rippling the thin paper—because her eyes kept drifting to the young man beside her, the planes of his muscular body and his slightly lidded golden eyes focusing on the path ahead.
“Is there something you want to say?” He asked suddenly, eyes flicking back to her. Hitoka’s face blazed red and she spluttered some noises that were supposed to be words but didn’t quite hit the mark. He stared intently at her for a second, and then his mouth twitched up into a smirk. Finally, she managed to gather herself and find something halfway decent to say.
“I-I just… It’s really nice of you to stay with me and make sure I’m okay…”
Kentarou’s mouth twitched like it was unsure how it wanted to respond, and he turned his gaze forward once more. She felt his hand shift on her back, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of her shirt before straightening again. He used his free hand to skim his fingers over his close-cropped dyed hair, a red tinge appearing on the tips of his ears again.
“Unlike those jackasses, I was taught how to respect women,” he mumbled. “What was I supposed to do, leave you crying in the middle of the street?” He seemed almost unsure about it, which made Hitoka giggle slightly.
“Well, regardless, I appreciate it.”
He said nothing, as they’d arrived at the ice cream parlor. It was a quaint building, painted baby blue with white shutters framing big windows that gave a perfect view of the row of ice cream tubs filled with colorful flavors. Several booths lined the side walls, filled with young families enjoying cones and cups of ice cream smothered in various toppings. Kentarou finally removed his hand from her back to open the door for her, and she lamented the loss of the circle of warmth that had made a home in her skin. Yet she didn’t want to embarrass herself, so she stepped onto the black-and-white tiled floor of the parlor.
Hitoka scampered up to the counter, eager to survey the selection of rich ice creams available. Kentarou sidled up behind her with his hands resting in his jeans pockets. He stood behind her and leaned over her shoulder to inspect the flavors; the closeness of his body brought a blush to her face, making the ice cream flavors a jumble of words swimming before her eyes. She jumped when Kentarou pressed his finger into the glass partition next to her head, but he was looking at the attendant.
“That one.”
Hitoka breathed a small sigh of relief when he moved from behind her to go pay, allowing her high-strung nerves to unwind enough to return to the task at hand. She decided on a cup of rich vanilla slathered in strawberry syrup and coated in small rainbow sprinkles. When she arrived at the counter to pay, she found Kentarou sliding a couple of bills across the counter to the cashier while in direct eye contact with Hitoka, which made her face blaze again.
“O-oh, that’s not necessary, I can pay for myself!” She stammered, the one hand that wasn’t holding her flyers to her chest flapping around wildly. Kentarou’s expression did not change, prompting the cashier to accept the bills without paying much attention to the argument.
“I don’t recall asking,” was all he said before taking the change from the cashier. Hitoka flushed, both unnerved by Kentarou’s power move and charmed by his consideration for her. She took her ice cream with a meek “thank you” and then followed Kentarou across the parlor to the lone untaken booth, her short legs shuffling quickly to keep up with his long strides. He slid into one side of the booth, stretching out his legs so Hitoka could rest hers primly between his in the small space when she slid in across from him. As he adjusted, the fabric of his jeans brushed against her stockings, sending an electric tingle up her leg.
“So, what are those flyers?” Kentarou asked, pointing at the stack she’d set down on the table with the end of his spoon.
“Oh, they’re advertising our team for the spring tournament! We want to draw a big crowd to support us!” She explained, momentarily forgetting that their slot in finals was the direct result of defeating Kentarou’s team in the winter. She then blushed, swirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. “Ah, sorry… I didn’t mean to be insensitive…”
“Don’t be,” he shrugged and looked down to stab his spoon into his scoop of dark chocolate ice cream. “It is what it is. We lost, you won. There’s no point in being bitter about it.” Despite his words, she could detect a hint of resentment bleeding into his tone. All these volleyball boys, so competitive, she thought fondly while she swirled her ice cream around in her cup to mix in the chocolate sauce and sprinkles, then spooned the creamy mixture into her mouth. Meanwhile, Kentarou reached across the table to tug one of the papers off the stack and pull it toward him to inspect it. “Did you make this?”
“Yes!” She said, wiggling in the booth a little as pride welled up inside of her. “Graphic design is a skill of mine, so I thought I would put it to use for the sake of the team.” He nodded wordlessly, golden eyes sweeping across the page. After a minute or so, he replaced it in the stack with a slight grunt.
“You’re talented.” Rather than a flat, unemotional statement, she could detect genuine acclamation in his tone. At this rate, her cheeks would be stained a permanent stain of red with how much Kentarou was making her blush. She murmured a meek “thank you” and sank down slightly into the booth, inadvertently knocking her knee against Kentarou’s—which didn’t help the bright pink blush coloring the skin of her face. She played with her ice cream, her tummy swirling too much for it to be appetizing anymore, and tried to act natural.
She peered through her lashes at Kentarou, who was looking down at his ice cream. She studied the sharp contours of his face, the smudges of kohl underneath his golden eyes, the dark lines through his dyed close-cropped hair—despite his intimidating appearance, he really was quite handsome. It made her heart flutter in her chest, the realization that she was sitting across from a very attractive boy, the boy who had also rescued her from three thugs, no less.
“You’re looking at me again,” he remarked suddenly, a smirk painting his thin lips as his gaze flickered up to meet hers. Her eyes blew wide as moons while her face grew brighter than ever, and she accidentally clenched the plastic spoon so hard that it snapped in half. Kentarou tilted his head slightly when he looked down at the broken spoon, his smirk widening with an amused lilt. “You’re not very good at hiding it.”
“Ehehe…” She laughed nervously and set down the now-useless spoon. She sank down in the booth seat, pressing her knees together so she didn’t accidentally brush Kentarou’s long legs again. “I, um… I was just thinking…”
“About?” He pressed, seeming to take delight in the shades of red he could make her face turn. His golden eyes twinkled mischievously as he watched her squirm. She twiddled her fingers while she fidgeted in the seat, face growing hotter and darker under the scrutiny of Kentarou’s intense gaze. Yet she didn’t find ridicule or disdain in his smoldering gaze, but a level of amusement and interest that guided what she decided to say next.
“Um… You’re really sweet and nice-looking.”
That seemed to take him by surprise. He straightened up like a rod, and his golden eyes shrank into the whites of his eyes when they widened. He stared at Hitoka in shock for a moment. Then, he hid his face with his broad hand, but it didn’t stop the bright pink skin from peeking out from between the gaps.
“You… Mmm,” he grunted, gaze sliding away from her while he struggled to recover from her startling confession. Hitoka blushed as well, concerned she’d insulted him somehow; but as he just sat there in tense silence, ever-so-slightly, his lips teased up into the tiniest hint of a shy smile. “You’re cute…” he whispered, and he probably didn’t even mean for Hitoka to hear the admission.
But she did.
She cheekily poked the tip of her tongue out between her lips, confidence bolstered by Kentarou’s bashfulness. His eyes dropped down to her mouth, and then his face turned an entire shade darker. He hastily averted his eyes again to scoop up a large chunk of his ice cream and shove it into his mouth, smearing it a little over his mouth in his haste. Seeing such a rough-and-tough boy bungle through the motion made her laugh lightly.
“Kentarou, I could use some help hanging up the rest of these flyers,” she said and patted the stack of papers. “If you aren’t busy, would you mind helping me?”
Kentarou, who still had his hand covering his face in mortification, looked at the stack of papers. He cleared his throat, then finally lowered his hand to give her a small nod.
“All right…” This made Hitoka’s smile widen. She rather liked Kentarou, now that she got to spend some with him. He really was a sweet guy at heart, very considerate of her feelings and well-being. She found herself wanting to get to know him even more, to spend even more time with him. That’s why his answer made joy flutter up inside of her and fill her with a warm, fuzzy feeling.
They finished up their ice cream and then headed out of the parlor, the stack of flyers clutched to her chest with one hand. While she looked around to see which businesses might be interested in allowing her to post the flyer, she felt something nudge her fingertips ever-so-gently. She looked down just in time to see Kentarou hook his index and middle fingers around hers. When she looked up, he was hiding his face again with his free hand.
“I thought it would make you feel better,” he mumbled, eyeing her uncertainly out of his peripheral vision. Hitoka had long since ceased feeling afraid of what had happened earlier, but she was still charmed by the fact that Kentarou was still trying to make her feel at ease. She gave his fingers a little squeeze and offered him a bright smile.
“I do feel better, Kentarou. Thank you.”
She then gasped as he looked fully away, hand dropping to clutch at his heart. His face was as red as an apple, though all she could see were the curves of his ears underneath the black stripes in his hair.
“You really are too cute,” he groaned, loud enough for her to hear this time. “I feel like I’m getting cavities…”
“Really?” she asked, too elated to have the sense to become bashful. She cozied up to him a little, her arm brushing against his broad, muscular one. She heard him make a choking sound. Perhaps it was wrong of her, but she derived a little delight from flustering such a tough-looking boy like Kentarou—so, when he turned to look at her, she pushed herself up onto her tip-toes to kiss him lightly on his bright red, hot cheek. “I think you’re cute, too.”
“O-oi!” he exclaimed with a wild, almost frightened, look. “Don’t call me that!”
“What? ‘Cute’?”
“Yes! I’m not cute!” he insisted, but that just made him look even cuter in Hitoka’s eyes. She giggled, swinging their arms back and forth that were still linked by their fingers. “I’m not! Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like… like…” He stopped short, instead giving her an irritated huff and tugged her forward. “Whatever. Let’s hang these stupid flyers and then I’m walking your ass home.”
Hitoka giggled as he continued to blush and scowl, marching her down the street. She didn’t set out this morning to tame Aoba Johsai’s infamous “Mad Dog” but it sure was entertaining. He was really all bark and no bite!
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
