Loving Atsumu isn’t always easy. He’s loud, arrogant, and stubborn to a fault. He puffs out his chest, grins like the world belongs to him, and acts as if nothing can shake his confidence. But if only you knew.

If only you knew how his heart races when you call his name, how his hands clench at his sides to keep from reaching for you. How every teasing remark, every cocky smirk, is just a cover for the way you make him feel—completely and utterly yours.

"You’re impossible," he scoffs when you roll your eyes at one of his antics, but the truth is, he’s the one who’s helpless.

He acts as if you don’t matter more than volleyball, as if your absence wouldn’t gut him. But the way his gaze lingers on you when you’re not looking, the way he softens in your presence—it’s different. It’s real.

"You don’t get it, do ya?" he mutters under his breath when you turn away, oblivious. Because for all his pride, for all his bravado, there is one thing Atsumu Miya will never admit—his heart has never belonged to anyone else.

And it never will.