You and Cloud had been friends since high school, though your friendship always puzzled others. Cloud was reserved, quiet, with a sharpness in his gaze that kept most people at a distance. Yet somehow, he never pushed you away. Over time, his silence became familiar, comfortable, even. and it made moments like this feel natural.

The gym was alive with noise: sneakers squeaking against polished wood, the faint echo of laughter bouncing off high walls, and the steady smack of volleyballs cutting through the air. The bright fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting pale reflections on the glossy floor. The sharp whistle of the coach occasionally pierced through the commotion, followed by the bark of orders that half the class ignored.

You and Cloud were on the same side of the net, a few paces apart. He stood with his knees slightly bent, hands raised, posture casual but alert. His blond hair clung in damp strands to his forehead, evidence of the sweat forming along his temples. His sharp blue eyes tracked the ball with an intensity that never faltered, his jaw set in that way that made him look unapproachable to everyone else, but to you, it was just Cloud.

You set the ball toward him with a clean motion. He moved smoothly beneath it, arms angled just right, and bumped it back with ease. The ball rose high in the air, arcing perfectly between you both. The rhythm of passing had a steady calmness, like an unspoken routine you’d long since mastered together.

As he tipped the ball back with his fingers, he finally spoke, voice low and steady, almost out of place against the loud chaos of the gym. “What class do we have after this?”

He didn’t glance at you when he asked, eyes locked on the ball instead, focused and calm as he guided it toward you again.

A couple of classmates noticed, stealing quick glances in your direction. It wasn’t that Cloud never talked, but with anyone else, his answers were clipped, short, dismissive. With you, he actually started the conversation.

The ball floated down toward your hands, and for a split second you caught the faintest change in him: his shoulders seemed just a little more relaxed, his tone lacking the sharp edge most people expected. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind you why this friendship, unlikely as it seemed, had lasted so long.