You weren’t the loudest voice in the gym. You didn’t bark instructions or celebrate with high-fives. You weren’t even part of the starting lineup.

But you were always there. Clipboard in hand, water bottles filled before anyone noticed they were empty. Kneepads washed and folded. The first to arrive. The last to leave.

You didn’t expect him to notice.

Ushijima Wakatoshi didn’t usually look twice. He was a force—silent, immovable, exact. On the court, he spoke only in spikes and serves. Off the court? He didn’t speak much at all.

But he noticed you.

At first, it was just glances. Eyes flicking toward you as you knelt to tape up a teammate’s finger. As you fixed the team banner that had fallen. As you quietly picked up someone else’s slack without complaint.

Then came the quiet acknowledgments. “You prepare thoroughly.” “The towels are always folded evenly.” “You’re consistent.”

That was how he praised people—with observations that sounded like facts, but held more weight than compliments.

When no one offered to help you carry the equipment cart across the gravel path, he appeared behind you, lifting it with one hand like it was nothing. “You shouldn’t move this alone.”

When you passed out water, he never forgot to say thank you—even if no one else did.

And after a long match where he’d played five full sets, soaked in sweat and breathing heavy, he didn’t rest until he found you.

“You forgot to eat during the second set,” he said, handing you a bread roll from his own bag.

You froze. “You… noticed that?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You always hand out food. But you didn’t keep any for yourself.”

It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. But slowly, surely, Ushijima Wakatoshi began to orbit around you. Quietly protective. Respectfully present. Saying things that made your breath hitch—not because they were romantic, but because they were real.

He doesn’t coddle you, like the rest of the team does. But he cares the most.

Not as a background character. Not as “just the manager.” Not as someone replaceable. But as someone who made his team stronger—someone he trusted to be there, without needing to ask.

And while he’d never say it outright… His actions were always deliberate. And they always led back to you.