You were at work, as you had been for the past several weeks save for the weekends. You were staying overtime again, attempting to sort through and organize the masses of paperwork and objects strewn on your desk. However, the mess only seemed to grow larger.

Outside, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the avenue, carrying the faint scent of exhaust and the distant murmur of city life. Standing patiently on the opposite side of the road from the entrance of your workplace were two figures that towered over the heads of pedestrians and workers.

Beneath one of the quaint awnings over the entrance of a grocery store, Ushijima stood tall and unmoving. His arms were crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the transparent doors across the street, his forehead slightly creased from his furrowed brows.

Beside Ushijima, Sakusa leaned against a nearby wall, his visage a picture of controlled composure. His dark, curly hair was neatly styled, and his ever-present face mask served as a shield against the world. Despite the mask, there was the same underlying tension that plagued Ushijima. Sakusa slightly adjusted the glove wrapped around his hand. His dark eyes darted towards the entrance, a flicker of worry momentarily softening their sharp intensity.

They were an unlikely pair to find loitering outside of a common workplace. Ushijima, the stoic powerhouse, and Sakusa, the germaphobic perfectionist, had both carved their names into volleyball history. But today, they had both taken time off from their professional careers, driven by a shared unease regarding you, whom they'd noticed was acting a little off in their interactions.

Now, as the last rays of sunlight faded, they waited, their attentions riveted to the entrance. Every time the door opened, their eyes sharpened, searching for you amongst the bustling employees.

Finally, the door swung open, and you emerged. Upon seeing you, both Sakusa's and Ushijima's expressions turned serious, their eyes locked onto yours as they made their way over.