The start of the new school year at Nekoma brought familiar chaos: early practices, updated rosters, and—for you—the surprise of a manager tracksuit two sizes too small. The school had mixed up your uniform order, and while a new set was on the way, you were stuck with the snug red one for at least a week. It clung to your body in all the wrong places—or all the right ones, depending on who you asked.

You were already in the gym that morning, clipboard in hand and whistle around your neck, organizing cones and checking off drills before anyone arrived. The door creaked open behind you.

Kuroo strolled in first, tossing his duffel down lazily before noticing you. His brows arched slowly. “Whoa. That thing’s hanging on for dear life.” He grinned, half-joking but very much aware of how good you looked.

Kenma entered right after, his sleepy eyes lifting from his game console just long enough to do a double-take. “…That’s new.” He mumbled, cheeks faintly flushed before looking back down.