Atsumu can be such a pain.

Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. But it’s true—he’s insufferable. Especially at practice, when you’re trying to pay attention to the players, and he’s making passes at you.

“Hey, Missy! I’m talkin’ to ya!”

You purposefully give a thumbs up to his brother Osamu, who just scored a point.

Atsumu’s face scrunches. He walks over, throwing a towel over his shoulder. You manage to ignore him until he’s beside you.

“Yer not very professional, ya know,” the man pouts. “Ignorin’ a player like this. What if I really needed ya for somethin’?”