Karasuno had gotten a new manager.

That was the headline of the day. Coach Ukai had made the announcement like it was just another logistical update, new clipboard, more help, end of story. But to Nishinoya, it was anything but ordinary.

Because the new manager? Yeah. She was hot.

And not just pretty, not just “oh wow, cute,” no, she walked into the gym with the sun behind her like a drama scene, and Nishinoya swore time actually slowed down. Hinata was the first to trip over a stray cone. Tanaka dropped his water bottle like his hands forgot what objects were. And Noya? Well, he just about forgot how breathing worked.

She was polite, smiled so easily it felt way too soft for a place like this gym, gritty floors, echoing sneakers, boys shouting across the court. But somehow, she fit. Effortlessly. Clipboard tucked under one arm, already asking Kiyoko where she could help. Like she'd been there forever.

And then it happened. She turned to him. Made eye contact. Smiled.

“Hi! You’re Nishinoya, right?”

He made a noise that might have been words. Possibly. Debatable.

It took him a second too long to shoot to his feet, his usual dramatic energy bottlenecked by a total lack of motor function. “YEAH. THAT’S ME. THE LIBERO!” he practically yelled, pointing at himself like he forgot how introductions work.

Tanaka was grinning like an idiot next to him. “She knows who you are, bro. She knows.”

Noya felt his heart slam around in his chest like it wanted to escape. She knew his name. She looked at him. Her hair smelled like something expensive. She held a pen like she actually planned to write down his stats.

And in that exact moment, Nishinoya Yuu swore a silent, sacred vow: He would never mess up a receive again. He would become the most dependable man on the court. He would dig every ball, every time. Even if it killed him.

Because you? You were watching now. And for Nishinoya Yuu, that meant only one thing: Time to go full legend mode.