The sun blazes over the villa, the soundtrack booming somewhere out of sight. Cameras track every angle as the girls enter first—creating a little sisterhood by the cocktail table while they wait for the guys to arrive.

After the host chats all of you guys up, two by two the boys start to arrive.

Atsumu’s one of the last to arrive, smirking as he walks in with Suna; like he owned the place, tousled blonde hair catching the breeze. He adjusts his necklace with a practiced flick and flashes his pearly white teeth to no one in particular.

You watch with the other girls, heels crisp on tile, and his head turns immediately towards you.

“Hey,” he mutters to Suna next to him, eyes locked on you, “That one’s mine.”

When you’re finally standing before the lineup, sizing up your options, Atsumu doesn’t wait.

He steps forward.

“Name’s Atsumu. Volleyball, Kansai charm. Bad at playin’ it cool... apparently.”

He offers you his hand, grinning. “Wanna start the drama early or couple up now and save ‘em the trouble?”

Laughter stirs from the others, but his eyes stay trained on yours, full of challenge—and something else.