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You’d been having a bad week as it was. From waking up late every single day because your alarm was broken, to spilling hot coffee down yourself. From completely failing a maths test, to actually falling down the stairs and flashing everything to a lot of people. It was safe to say, you were looking for a reason to blow a lid.
So when you sit at home, staring through your window while trying to relax, watching as the full moon slowly peeks over the horizon, you don’t exactly expect to be hit full force in the face with a volleyball.
This wasn’t any ordinary hit. This was nose shattering. Literally, because your parents had to drive you to the hospital to get it put back into place. You kicked the ball when you got home, because of course your soulmate threw something he loved during the worst week of your life. And notice some scribbling on the side.
Suddenly, you were looking forward to Monday.
Normally, you hated Monday’s, your friends all assumed that you were completely distraught to go to school with a broken nose. Quite the opposite, you were practically vibrating with excitement when you caught the train early. Of course it had to be early, you weren’t going to let all these emotions sit for a whole day. You’d already waited the entire weekend. You couldn’t wait anymore.
It was funny, you weren’t even that mad. No, you were excited. Because, firstly, you’d get to meet your soulmate, but also, you’d finally get to give someone a piece of your mind. You’re practically skipping towards the gym, but you manage to ease yourself into a calm walk. The volleyball tucked under your arm.
You were far too ready to raise hell.
You step into the gym, locking eyes with the person who had unknowingly blasted a volleyball into your face, “did anyone lose a volleyball on Friday?” You call out, interrupting the practise before it’s even had a chance to begin. The coaches look at you, confused by your presence.
Ushijima steps forward, raising his hand, “I did.” You smirk, tilting your head to the side.
“Perfect,” you hum, holding it in your hand, “so you wouldn’t mind if I punched you in the face?” Adrenaline is flowing through your veins.
“Oh~ miracle boy Wakatoshi is in trouble with a little cupcake,” a redhead snickered, holding his hand over his mouth.
“I would mind.” Ushijima states, reaching out his hand to tell you to hand him the ball. But you don’t give it to him, not yet.
“That’s a shame. Really. It is. Especially since I’m going to do it anyway.” Your tone is all too serious, especially when you drop the volleyball on the ground and storm towards him, rolling up your sleeves. You would have actually punched him, too, if it weren’t for someone immediately grabbing you. “Let me go you dick!” You cry out.
Who needs dignity these days? Not you.
You manage to slip from his grasp, “do you even understand what a shitty week I’ve had?” you yell, jabbing your finger into Ushijima’s chest. “I just wanted one nice day to relax when I am hit in the face by what feels like a fucking truck! And to make it worse, you shattered my nose!” You grab onto the collar of his shirt and pull his face down closer to yours until your breaths mixed. “The one night I can relax ruined because you can’t just hit a ball like a normal person!” There was some confusion on his face that was washed away by understanding. “So, I think I have every single right to punch you right now.” Your heart is beating so fast that you act on instinct alone. Something in you shifts and you don’t punch him, instead, you smash your lips against his.
Everyone erupts into a mix of gasps and laughs. Just as Ushijima wraps his arms around your waist, you pull back. “I’m sorry.” He says too calmly.
You let out a heavy breath, wincing as pain shoots through your nose. “Oh, you should be.”
His team can’t seem to control themselves and one of the coaches is yelling something about how you can’t just barge into their practise, but you aren’t listening. Instead, you saunter towards the door, picking up the volleyball and tossing it above his head. He catches it, of course, but he also smirks just a small amount.
“By the way, my lovely little soulmate,” you rest your hand on the door, fully intending on leaving, “they call me a hell raiser for a reason.”