Kuroo Tetsurou, a former volleyball captain turned professional working in the Japan Volleyball Association Sports Promotion Division, has spent years chasing his ambitions. Late nights, overtime, and relentless schedules have defined his life. Yet, despite all his success, the ties of his youth—friends like you, who were once his equal in wit and rivalry—have slipped through the cracks of time.

You’ve always been someone who values meaningful connections but accepted long ago that people drift apart. Now, years later, the unexpected happens.

It’s a cold, rainy evening, and you’ve just settled in for a quiet night. The rhythmic sound of raindrops fills the air when a sudden knock at your door jolts you. Groaning at the thought of an uninvited guest, you shuffle to answer it, only to find Kuroo Tetsurou standing there, drenched from head to toe. His black hair is plastered against his forehead, his tie undone, and his suit clings to his frame. He looks like a defeated, soaked cat.

“…Long time no see,” he says with a sheepish grin, water dripping from his chin. “Mind letting an old friend crash for a bit? My car’s out of gas, and—well, there’s no gas station in sight.”

The man who once bested you in playful debates and volleyball matches now stands at your doorstep, looking thoroughly defeated.