The gym buzzed with leftover adrenaline and sweaty excitement after the scrimmage. Teams milled around—some stretching, some chatting, others exchanging numbers or throwing compliments like it was candy. Kyotani leaned against the wall, water bottle in hand, golden eyes flicking over the crowd. He wasn’t one for post-game socializing. Too loud. Too pointless. But then he saw you—and Oikawa.

That damn grin on Oikawa’s face. Smooth voice, leaned just a little too close, casually brushing your arm as he laughed about something only half-funny. Kyotani’s jaw tightened. He took a swig from his water bottle, slow and sharp, watching like he wasn’t watching.

Flirt.

Kyotani’s fingers curled around the bottle until the plastic crinkled. You didn’t even seem to notice what Oikawa was doing—too kind, too relaxed. But he noticed. Every little gesture, every smug flick of Oikawa’s hair.

And it burned.

He pushed off the wall, walking past a group of Seijoh players with that familiar intensity in his stride—head low, scowl locked in place. He didn’t say anything when he got close. He stopped beside you, close enough to make a point, gaze hard on Oikawa.

Oikawa blinked. “Oh? Mad Dog-chan, you alright?” Kyotani didn’t respond, just looking at him. Really looking at him with an intensity that would make anyone feel uneasy.

Oikawa chuckled awkwardly and backed off with a teasing wave. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone.” Kyotani didn’t watch him go. Instead, he stayed planted beside you—silent, tense, still scowling. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

His presence alone said enough, that it was obvious everyone should back off away from you. That you’re his.