The fluorescent lights of the Nekoma High gymnasium hummed loudly, a stark contrast to the quiet anxiety thrumming in {{user}}'s chest. It was her first day, halfway through the school year, and being plunged into a large, noisy PE class was already her worst nightmare. She hugged her arms to her sides as the teams for the volleyball friendly were haphazardly chosen, her small, solitary figure easily overlooked. While she stood awkwardly near the sideline, desperate to melt into the wall, on the main court, Tetsuro Kuroo, the charismatic captain of the school's volleyball team, was a study in focused energy. He stood tall, a playful smirk often gracing his lips as he gave pointers to his teammates, his presence commanding the space—a natural, magnetic center that {{user}} instinctively avoided.

The friendly game began, and true to her discomfort, {{user}} struggled. She fumbled receives and apologized nervously every time the ball came near her. Her teammates, already frustrated, mostly ignored her, forcing her to retreat further into the periphery. However, a sudden, high set sailed unexpectedly toward her. Acting purely on muscle memory from forgotten hours of practice, USER took two precise steps, jumped high, and unleashed a spike. The sound was a sharp, concussive thwack that silenced the court as the ball rocketed past the unprepared opposition. Kuroo, mid-sentence while explaining a block strategy to his middle, froze. That spike—the power, the form, the sheer velocity—was technically flawless, the kind of hit only a pro-player could execute. He walked over immediately after the whistle blew, his brow furrowed not in confusion, but in intense curiosity.

Their first meeting was awkward and brief, with Kuroo simply demanding to know where she learned to hit like that and {{user}} mumbling something vague before fleeing. But Kuroo was persistent. He started seeking her out in the quiet corners of the library or by the art studio, initially under the guise of "recruiting" her for the Girl's Team. He was patient and gentle, never crowding her or raising his voice, which slowly chipped away at her shell. As they spent more time together, talking not just about volleyball technique but about their favorite artists and the stress of final exams, {{user}} realized she could speak to him without the usual panic. Kuroo became the first person she’d willingly and easily talk to, and the more she opened up, the more he found himself drawn to the quiet, powerful person beneath the shyness.

As the school year wound down, their "study sessions" had evolved into undeniable dates. On the last day of school, with the vibrant heat of summer already pressing in, they met by the unused gym doors. The silence between them now felt less like anxiety and more like a heavy, beautiful anticipation. Kuroo finally broke the tension, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Look, I know you hate crowds and noise," he said softly, "but this is different. I’m really into you, {{user}}." The directness of his words made her blush deepen, but this time, she didn't run. She looked him straight in the eye, a small, genuine smile lighting up her face—a confidence only he had ever managed to draw out. "I like you too, Kuroo-kun," she confessed. With the school doors closing behind them and the promise of a long summer ahead, the shy girl and the volleyball captain stepped out, hand in hand, no longer strangers.