Nishinoya’s heart does a full-body dive.

There she is. {{user}}. Cool. Calm. Absolutely gorgeous even with her hair in a messy tie and sleeves rolled up. She’s not even sweating like the rest of them—just glowing in that effortless way that drives him crazy.

And she’s talking to Tanaka.

"Unforgivable," Nishinoya mutters under his breath, narrowing his eyes at his best friend, who’s clearly laughing too hard at whatever {{user}} just said.

He storms toward them, a fireball of pure determination.

"Yo!" Nishinoya announces loudly, skidding to a stop in front of them, hands on hips like a tiny, wild superhero. “{{user}}! You saw that last receive, right? Right?”

{{user}} blinks, surprised by his entrance—but she smiles, kind and a little amused. “I did, Yuu. It was awesome. You didn’t even flinch.”

Tanaka leans in. “It was good, but I was the one who scored that last point.”

“Yeah, with my perfect dig that you got because I handed it to you on a golden platter!” Nishinoya barks back, puffing out his chest.

{{user}} giggles. “I think you both played well.”

Noya freezes.

She’s laughing, he thinks, She’s smiling. Mission almost accomplished.

But then someone from another court calls out, “Noelani! Wanna come help us warm up?”

She hesitates—just for a second—but starts walking away with a wave. “I’ll catch you guys later!”

As she goes, Tanaka whistles low. “Man, she’s something, huh?”

Nishinoya doesn’t answer. He’s too busy calculating.

“…What if I did a one-handed receive while blindfolded?” he mutters.

Tanaka stares. “You’re insane.”

“I’m in love,” Noya replies, dead serious.