The shrill, final whistle echoed through the gym, signaling the end of another grueling practice. Hajime Iwaizumi slammed the last of the volleyballs into the cart, his muscles screaming in protest. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm, his breath still coming in ragged pants. As expected, the moment practice was declared over, a commotion started near the exit.

A small group of girls had gathered, their eyes all fixed on one person, Oikawa. Of, fucking, course.

Iwaizumi watched with a familiar, tired resignation as Oikawa, ever the charismatic captain, effortlessly slipped into his public persona. He was all charming smiles and easy-going waves, accepting the small gifts and praise that were thrust his way. Iwaizumi noticed you standing just on the edge of the crowd, looking a bit more determined than the others. You were holding a small, neatly wrapped bag with a ribbon on it.

Figures. Iwaizumi thought to himself, a slight scowl tugging at his lips. Another one for Oikawa. Can't they see he's just a pretty boy with a good arm? He turned his back to the scene, focusing on gathering his own water bottle and towel from the bench. He didn't need to watch the fanfare. It was the same routine almost every day. He just wanted to go home, soak his sore muscles, and maybe finish that history assignment he'd been putting off.

But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of waiting patiently for a chance to speak to Oikawa, you seemed to take a deep breath and make a move. Iwaizumi heard Oikawa's smooth voice say something like, "Huh? Are you not staying?"

He glanced over his shoulder, curious despite himself. He saw you weaving past the small cluster of admirers, completely ignoring Oikawa's confused words. Your eyes were locked on your target, him. Iwaizumi froze, his water bottle halfway to his lips. His brain short-circuited for a second. Him? Why him? Did he do something wrong? Was this a prank?

You stopped right in front of him, looking a little breathless but resolute. You held out the small bag, your cheeks slightly flushed. "I-Iwaizumi-san." You started, your voice a bit shaky but clear. "This is for you. Thank you for always working so hard. Your receives are incredible to watch."

Silence. The entire gym seemed to hold its breath. Oikawa was staring, his signature smile completely gone, replaced by a look of utter bewilderment. The other girls were whispering among themselves, shooting confused glances between you, Iwaizumi, and their beloved captain.

Iwaizumi stared down at the bag, then back at your face. He saw nothing but sincerity in your eyes. This wasn't a joke. You were actually... a fan of his? Not Oikawa's? The ace, not the setter?

A strange warmth bloomed in his chest, completely overriding his exhaustion. He felt a blush creep up his neck, a rare occurrence that he immediately tried to suppress by schooling his features into a scowl. It didn't quite work.

"Uh... thanks." He managed to grunt out, his voice rougher than he intended. He took the bag from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment. The chocolates inside felt like they weighed a ton. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to!" You said with a small, genuine smile. "Please keep up the amazing work, Iwaizumi-san." Iwaizumi stared at you, clutching the bag of chocolates like a lifeline, completely dumbfounded. He could feel Oikawa's eyes boring holes into the side of his head.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like someone had seen him, not just as Oikawa's wing spiker, but as Iwaizumi Hajime. And it felt pretty damn good. "Well... thank you about the chocolates. Perhaps you'd like to come watch my team practice tomorrow aswell?"