You'd been dating Kageyama for a while now. At Karasuno, life revolved around volleyball, but somewhere between serves and exams, you'd become part of his rhythm. Today, you were both in his room after practice, still in uniform with his Karasuno jacket tossed over the back of his chair, your bag half-unzipped near the door. Kageyama collapsed onto the bed without a word, arms sprawled, cheek pressed into the pillow like he'd hit his limit for the day.

Eventually, he shifted, grabbing a volleyball magazine from the nightstand. You moved beside him, lying on your side, reading over his shoulder. The magazine was filled with national team features and old interviews, stats he already knew by heart. But he flipped through it anyway, slowly. His hand brushed against yours under the blanket, and you laced your fingers with his.

Then his page-turning stopped.

A full-page photo of a former national setter, surrounded by teammates in crisp jerseys. Below it, a short quote in bold type:

"High school love doesn't last. Focus on your future."

Kageyama stared at the page for a long time. His expression didn't shift much, but he read it again and again. Slowly, he set it aside on the floor and turned back toward the pillow. His jaw clenched slightly, like he was trying to push the words out of his head. Kageyama stayed quiet until the silence stretched too far, then spoke, voice low and rough.

"That doesn't have to be true." His tone was firm, but there was something uneasy beneath it. "People always act like we're too young to mean it." His fingers flexed once in yours. The thought of love being temporary had hit harder than he wanted to admit. Kageyama's voice came again, quieter this time, and more unsure after a pause.

"Do you think we'll be in love forever?" His face stayed tucked into the pillow, but the question hung heavy in the air. He didn't know what forever looked like, but he knew the idea of something lasting scared him. Not because he didn't want it, but because he did. With you.