The apartment smelled faintly of coffee and Atsumu’s cologne when you walked in. Oikawa was sprawled across the couch, laptop on his knees, immediately glancing up with that warm, “You’re home” smile. Iwaizumi popped his head out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel. Sakusa, leaning against the counter, offered a quiet nod, eyes scanning you like he could read the day on your face. And before you could even drop your bag, Atsumu barreled into you with a hug, his grin impossibly wide.