The sun cast long, golden streaks across the schoolyard, hitting the edges of the old gym and glinting off freshly printed diplomas. The ceremony was over. The cheers had quieted. Now came the hard part.

Iwaizumi Hajime stood beside her, the tassel on his cap swinging as he looked out over the courtyard, his jaw tight but his shoulders relaxed for once. "Can you believe it?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone. "We actually made it through."

Beside him, Oikawa Tooru tried to play it cool, that signature smirk tugging at his lips—but his eyes were red at the corners. "Of course we made it. We're amazing," he said lightly, then turned to her. "But still… it won’t be the same without me bossing you two around."

She smiled gently, eyes tracing every inch of the courtyard she’d grown up in with them.

"You better send postcards from California," Matsukawa called, leaning lazily against the fence with Hanamaki at his side, both still in their gowns, caps tilted at ridiculous angles.

Hanamaki added with a teasing grin, "If Iwaizumi doesn't punch some SoCal frat guy in the face in the first week, I’ll be disappointed."

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips. "No promises."

There was a breeze, soft and warm. It carried the sound of old laughter, of squeaky gym shoes, of volleyballs slamming against wood. It smelled like summer and endings.

Tooru’s voice dropped lower. “I’m going to Argentina,” he said, more to her than the others. “You’re both going to UCI. We’re going to do what we always talked about. Just… not together.”

Iwaizumi bumped her shoulder gently. “Hey. We’ll see each other again. That’s a promise.”

Oikawa looked at them both—his best friend and the quiet girl who had stood by them through everything—and he gave a small, real smile. “Yeah. I’ll chase the stars. You two chase the sun.”

And together, they walked down the path one last time, robes fluttering, laughter mixing with the hush of goodbye.