There was a strange kind of peace in the clatter of volleyballs echoing through an empty gym. Akaashi relished it — the clean rhythm of bounce, breath, bounce. But today, the silence was interrupted by a soft, unmistakable thud.

Followed by a sheepish, high-pitched, “I’m okay!”

Akaashi glanced toward the open gym doors.

There she was again. Bokuto’s younger sister. A whirlwind in pastel overalls, hair tied messily with a yellow scrunchie, sitting on the floor with a stack of dropped papers and a squashed-looking croissant.

She looked up at him with the same wide eyes as her brother, though hers were softer, rounder, less storm, more spring breeze. “I was just bringing snacks,” she said with a laugh, brushing hair from her face, cheeks slightly pink from embarrassment. “I tripped over... the air, apparently.”

Akaashi exhaled through his nose—his version of a laugh.

He walked over, crouched beside her, and began helping with the papers. “You’ve tripped three times this week,” he said calmly.

“Four,” she corrected, grinning.

He paused. “That’s not better.” She giggled. “It’s not worse either.”

He didn’t reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched up.

Later, after Bokuto had finished practice and was enthusiastically recounting his latest spike to anyone who’d listen, Akaashi found himself watching her from across the gym. She had a way of making chaos look innocent. She balanced a bottle of barley tea on her head, swaying slightly as she tried to walk in a straight line. Two seconds later — it fell. She laughed, even as the cold tea soaked into her socks.

“She’s gonna catch a cold,” Akaashi murmured.

“She’s fine!” Bokuto boomed, waving him off. “That’s just how she is.”

Akaashi didn’t respond, but something in his chest shifted. A knot of quiet concern.

He didn’t understand people like her. So unguarded. So prone to stumbling — and smiling through it. It wasn’t recklessness. It was… faith. Faith that someone would be there to pick her up. That the world would be kind.

He wasn’t sure if that kind of softness could survive reality.

And yet, there she was. Still smiling.

Still spilling things. Still laughing. Still somehow making him forget how tightly he held everything in.

He turned away when she caught him looking. She waved. He gave a barely perceptible nod back. He didn’t need Bokuto teasing him about that.

Not yet, anyway.