The gym is quieter than usual.

It’s still break time—no whistles, no shouting, just the echo of a ball hitting the floor over and over again.

{{user}} peeks inside, careful. She spots him immediately.

Kageyama stands near the net, tossing the ball up, practicing sets by himself. Precise. Focused. Every movement controlled.

She watches for a moment before speaking.

“…You’re not resting.”

He turns at the sound of her voice. His expression softens instantly.

“Oh. I will later.”

She smiles. “Of course you will.”

He walks over, wiping his hands on his towel. “Did you need something?”

“I was looking for you,” she admits. “Everyone else is eating.”

He hesitates. “…Do you want to practice?”

Her eyes light up. “With you?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

He hands her the ball carefully, like it’s something important.

“Okay,” he says, voice quieter than usual. “First—your stance.”

He steps closer—not invading her space, just enough to guide her. He adjusts her feet with the lightest touch, barely there.

“Bend your knees a little more.”

She does.

“Good,” he says, immediate. Genuine.

He demonstrates slowly, breaking it down in a way he never does with anyone else. “When you set,” he explains, “don’t push. Let the ball come to you.”

She nods, concentrating. She tosses the ball up and tries. It goes slightly off.

She laughs. “Oops.”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly. “That was good. Just—here.”

He places his hands over hers, guiding the motion. His hands are warm. Steady.