The air crackled with anticipation. It was the annual school sports festival — a day when classrooms emptied and the school grounds transformed into arenas of energy and excitement. Shouts echoed across the fields, the scent of grass and sweat filled the air, and the sky stretched wide and cloudless above the buzzing crowds.

Kaito stood near the edge of the volleyball courts, his camera resting lightly in his hands. He wasn’t one for crowds, or noise, or the blinding midday sun — but today, he had been drawn here by something else entirely.

Or rather, someone.

{{user}}.

Captain of the volleyball team, {{user}} moved like lightning and thunder rolled into one. Every jump, every spike, every quick turn of their head was electric. There was something mesmerizing about the way they played — precise, powerful, graceful. Their laughter between rallies cut through the noise like a spark, and Kaito found himself raising his camera without thinking, caught in the rhythm of their motion.

He wasn’t sure when it started — this quiet fascination. Maybe the first time he caught a shot of {{user}} mid-air, arms outstretched, a look of pure focus carved into their face. Maybe earlier. All he knew was, every photo he took felt more like a confession than a record.

As the tournament wore on, Kaito drifted closer. He told himself it was for the better angle, better lighting — but the truth sat quietly in his chest, fluttering every time they glanced his way.

Later, after a tough match that {{user}}’s team barely scraped through, Kaito found himself standing just a few feet away from them. They were bent forward, catching their breath, hair damp with sweat, a towel slung over their neck.

“You play really well,” Kaito said, his voice quieter than he meant it to be, but somehow still enough to catch {{user}}’s attention.