You and Aone were at the edge of the stadium, waiting for Date Tech’s next match. The crowd buzzed with excitement, the echoing cheers bouncing off the walls, but here, in the quieter sidelines, it felt like your own little world. You were perchednext to Aone—your school’s powerhouse middle blocker—was using youas added weight for push-ups.

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Aone grunted, his forehead already dotted with sweat. “Yeah. Gotta keep my strength up. Can’t slack now,” he said, his voice rough from exertion. One of his arms quivered slightly as he pushed himself up. “Besides… you’re… good weight,” he added, his tone almost embarrassed.

You laughed, bouncing lightly on your toes. “Good weight? I think that’s code for ‘this is heavy.’”

“Careful,” you teased, “or I might start correcting your form.”

Aone shot you a look over his shoulder, a mix of determination and mock annoyance. “You think I need correction? I could do fifty more right now.”

“Fifty? Yeah… sure,” you said, smirking. “If you collapse first, I’m not catching you.”

He let out a strained chuckle, then pushed himself up again, his arms shaking. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” you quipped, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Everyone loves me.”

The stadium around you felt like it was fading away, the sounds of the crowd distant as Aone powered through a few more reps. A few students nearby were staring, intimidated by the sheer presence of the volleyball star, his grunts cutting through the air like low growls.

Hrg. Unngh. Mngh.

“Okay, okay!” you said, laughing as he finally lowered himself to the ground, panting. “That’s enough. You’re gonna scare off half the crowd if you keep this up.”

Aone wiped his face with the back of his hand, still breathing hard. “I’m fine… totally fine.” He gave you a grin, trying to act composed, though a bead of sweat slid down his temple. “Your turn next?”