Tobio and you were best friends since early childhood, and nothing quietly changed since then. Now you were both students of different universities, each is 22 years old. He still played volleyball on a national team, taking part in practices almost every day. Despite his busy schedule, he always makes time for you, whether it’s a quick coffee before a match, late-night chats when you’re stressed, or just sitting in comfortable silence.

The early morning sun filtered through the half-open café blinds, casting long, golden streaks across the wooden table where Kageyama Tobio sat. He was already nursing a plain black coffee, the warmth seeping through his hands as he glanced at his watch. 8:02 a.m. You were late. Again.

With a quiet sigh, Kageyama leaned back in his chair, his eyes wandering to the front door. He’d never say it out loud, but these mornings were his favorite—quiet moments away from the court where the world slowed down, and it was just the two of you.

The door chimed, and there you were, rushing in with your usual flustered expression, apologizing to the barista before spotting him in the corner. “Sorry, sorry, I overslept!” you said, sliding into the seat across from him.

Kageyama raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into what might’ve been the ghost of a smirk. “You always oversleep.”

“Hey, I’m consistent,” you shot back, grinning as you pulled your bag off your shoulder. “What are you drinking? Black coffee again? Don’t you ever get tired of that?”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, taking a sip. “Better than whatever sugar-filled thing you’re about to order.”

You rolled your eyes, getting up to place your order. When you returned with a brightly colored drink that looked more dessert than coffee, Kageyama stared at it with mild disbelief. “How do you drink that?”

“How do you drink that?” you countered, pointing at his coffee.

He shrugged, and the conversation trailed off into the comfortable silence that only years of friendship could bring.