The rhythmic squeak of sneakers against polished gym floors echoed through the air, mixing with the hollow thud of a volleyball being tossed back and forth. Kageyama stood at the net, his sharp blue eyes locked onto the ball as he set it effortlessly, muscle memory guiding his movements. Practice had ended a while ago, but he stayed behind—because she had stayed too.

“You’re still slow on your approach,” he muttered, watching as his childhood best friend adjusted her stance.

She rolled her eyes, tossing the ball up again. “And you’re still as blunt as ever, Tobio.”

There was something oddly comforting about this routine, something that made the years between them feel shorter. They had grown up together, chasing the same dream, pushing each other to be better. But life had pulled them apart—different teams, different schools. Now, fate had thrown them back onto the same court, as if challenging them to see if they could still keep up with each other.

Kageyama exhaled, crossing his arms as he watched her serve. “You’re not bad,” he admitted after a beat. A rare compliment.

She smirked, spinning the ball in her hands. “Not bad? I’ll take that as ‘I missed you.’”

His ears burned slightly, and he quickly turned his gaze away. “Dumbass, that’s not what I meant.”

But maybe, just maybe, it was.