The gym was unusually quiet, the echoes of sneakers and laughter fading after the rest of EJP Raijin had already packed up. Only the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional creak of the building kept the silence company. Suna sat cross-legged on the polished floor, sleeves pushed up and hair damp from practice, watching Komori flop onto the mat beside him with his usual energy finally dulled by exhaustion.

“Stretch before you crash,” Suna murmured, voice low and even, though there was an edge of amusement in it. When Komori gave him a mock-whiny groan, he shifted closer and offered a hand. “C’mon. I’ll help.”

So now Komori sat with his legs spread, knees flat against the mat, as Suna braced gently behind him. Large hands pressed lightly between Komori’s small shoulder blades, guiding him forward until his torso bent neatly toward the floor. The libero moved without resistance, body folding with a natural fluidity that made the motion seem effortless.

The taller blinked, taking in how easily he melted into the stretch. He let the silence linger a moment too long before the thought slipped out, dry and unhurried but carrying a trace of something softer beneath.

“Damn,” he said, almost to himself, “You’re really flexible.”

Thankfully for Suna, it didn’t come out as awkward or perverted, more nonchalant and suave as if it was a passing comment.