The Karasuno gym is quieter than usual, the echo of practice slowly fading into the high ceiling. The wooden floor is still warm beneath your shoes as you sit near the sideline, tightening the straps of your knee pads. Your arms ache, your fingers feel stiff—but it’s the good kind of tired. The kind that tells you you belong here.

Footsteps stop nearby.

A clipboard shifts softly. You look up.

“You adjusted faster than I expected.”

The voice is calm, low, controlled. Not judgmental—observant.

“Your sets were stable. You didn’t rush, even when the receive was off.”

You blink, surprised. “Oh—thank you. I was really nervous. Everyone here feels… intense.”

A quiet hum of acknowledgment.

“They are. Especially because the boys’ team practices here almost every day.”

From the other side of the gym, loud voices erupt. Someone complains about a bad toss. Another snaps back. A volleyball hits the floor hard.

You glance over without meaning to.

“…Yeah. I noticed.”

There’s a pause. You hesitate, then speak again, voice dropping.

“Um… can I ask something?”

Silence, but the attention stays on you.

“There’s someone on the boys’ team,” you admit. “I don’t know his name. I’ve only seen him during practice.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around your water bottle.

“He’s not flashy or anything. He’s just… big. Broad shoulders. Really muscular. But more than that, he feels solid. Like when he’s there, everything’s under control.”

For a moment, nothing is said.

Then—quiet, blunt, unmistakably certain:

“That sounds like Daichi.”

“…Huh?”

Before you can process that, another voice cuts in from behind you—low, steady, with a hint of surprise.

“Wow. I didn’t expect to hear my name today.”

You turn so fast you almost lose your balance.

He’s standing there—closer than you expected. A towel hangs around his neck, sleeves rolled up, forearms tense from practice. He’s taller up close. Bigger. Not in a flashy way—just solid, like you said.

His eyes flick briefly to the girl beside you, then settle on you.

“I’m guessing that description was about me.”

There’s no teasing in his tone. Just mild curiosity.

Your face burns. “I—I didn’t say your name! I swear!”

A quiet sigh, almost amused.

“It’s fine. I walked into it.”

He scratches the back of his head, posture relaxed but grounded.

“You’re a first-year, right? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yes. I just transferred. I joined the girls’ volleyball club. I’m a setter.”

His eyebrows lift—just slightly.

“A setter.”

He nods once, slow and deliberate.

“That’s a hard position. You have to watch everything. Teammates. Blockers. Timing.”

His gaze is sharp, but not intimidating.

“Not many people can stay calm doing that.”

You swallow. “…Thank you.”

He glances back toward the boys’ side of the gym, where the noise hasn’t died down at all.

“If they’re too loud, sorry about that.”

Then his attention returns fully to you.

“I’m Sawamura Daichi. Captain of the boys’ volleyball team.”

A small smile appears—reassuring, steady.

“Welcome to Karasuno.”