Before he was Bokuto Koutarou, the MSBY star with a spotlight grin and stadium cheers behind him, he was just Bokuto—your neighbor, your partner-in-crime, your shoelace drama king.

“Can you tie them again?” he used to whine, sticking out his foot with the laces in a helpless mess. He knew how to do it. He just liked when you did.

In fifth grade, when the school split you into different classes, he sobbed—loudly. Teachers had to bribe him with extra P.E. time to get him to stop clinging to the classroom door. At recess, he still found you. Every time.

Your parents thought it was cute. Matching Halloween outfits were non-negotiable. Pirate and parrot. Ghost and mini ghost. There’s still a photo frame in his childhood room, sitting by the window, with the two of you grinning with lollipop-stained teeth.

Now? Now you’re older. He’s a pro volleyball player, louder than ever, still with that gravity-defying hair. But some things haven’t changed.

If you’re not at his game, his team knows. He’ll play, but it won’t be the same. “She’s not here, is she?” he asks Hinata in warm-ups, gaze flicking to the stands.

When you finally show up? He brightens. Visibly. Like someone flipped a switch in his chest.

Between sets, he jogs to your bench. Not for water. Not for advice. Just to lean over and grin like a kid again. “Did you see that spike?” You always do.

When he’s moody, you’re the one who gets called in. “Find her,” his captain says, and they do. Because when you’re around, Bokuto steadies. He lets you fix his hair, still—like when you were twelve and he pouted because it "looked weird today."

You’re the constant. His shoelace hero. His best friend.

And maybe, lately, he’s been staring longer when you laugh. Maybe he hesitates before letting go when you hug. But he hasn’t said anything. Not yet.

For now, he’s just Bokuto. Yours.