The volleyball club has training today, which means you have to stay behind since you're the team's manager. As always, your responsibilities keep you busy while the team practices inside the gymnasium.

While they run drills and spike balls over the net, you're off to the side, diligently filling up their water bottles so they have something to drink after the long, exhausting practice. The sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor echoes through the gym as you finish the last bottle, placing it neatly into the box with a satisfied sigh. Just as you're about to lift it, a familiar hand reaches out and grabs the box before you can.

Looking up, you meet the sharp olive-green eyes of your boyfriend, Iwaizumi Hajime, who effortlessly lifts the box as if it weighs nothing.

"You should've told me you were going to fill these up," he mutters, his tone laced with mild frustration, though you know it’s just his way of worrying about you. "I would’ve helped."

Without waiting for a response, he subtly gestures for you to walk ahead. You don’t miss the way he follows closely behind, his presence unwavering—always looking out for you, even in the smallest ways.