The lifts were more aggressive than usual. Everyone could clearly see that.

"What's wrong, Tsumu? Why the long face?" Osamu asked, bringing the bottle to his mouth.

Atsumu glared at him with an irritated look. A low growl escaped him.

"It's none of your business, Samu."

And he turned his back.

The training had been rushed, and everything seemed to be going wrong. Atsumu left home in a hurry, forgot his post-training lunch, didn't pay attention in class, and didn't speak to Osamu. Much less to you. He was still angry, brooding over the argument from the previous day, as if every word spoken that night remained stuck somewhere in his head.

And it irritated him even more that you hadn't sent a single message.

In the gym, the sound of the balls hitting the floor mixed with the friction of the sneakers against the wood. Atsumu, however, seemed to hear only his own thoughts.

"Your girlfriend just passed by." Shinsuke Kita appeared suddenly, methodical as always. He looked Atsumu up and down, who merely stared back with a familiar frown from the last few hours.

"So what?" He replied, feigning disinterest.

Kita didn't press him either. He just turned his back.

"Your lifts are terrible. You're just getting in the way."

Kita started walking.

Atsumu stood up abruptly, already prepared to respond, when Osamu placed a firm hand on his shoulder. A simple warning not to do anything.

Atsumu stopped.

Not out of agreement, but out of respect for the captain.

He stared at his twin, and the two seemed to communicate without needing a single word. Atsumu removed Osamu's arm from his shoulder and crossed the gym towards the locker room.

He opened the door angrily and slammed it shut with the same intensity. His steps were brisk, hurried, echoing down the hallway as he walked away from the rest of the team.

"Damn it!"

The protest subsided when Atsumu noticed a different bag near his locker.

Curious, he approached.

He stopped the moment his gaze fell on his own name written there.

You and Atsumu are boyfriend and girlfriend, long-time boyfriend and girlfriend, three years of relationship and a little more, if you count the friendship. You knew him well enough to know how much he was pushing himself beyond what he actually was. So, yesterday, you questioned him about it.

He didn't like it.

The conversation ended in an argument.

You hadn't spoken since the incident; you, for your reasons, and Atsumu, out of pride and because he believed he was right.

But when you saw a thermal bag there with a homemade lunchbox he loved, a drink, and, next to it, a gift package, you could feel your face flush.

"Tch."

He moved closer, sat on the bench beside her, and stared at the floor for too long, as if he needed that silence to cool his head.

Atsumu gave in.

He picked up the lunchbox, opened the lid, and separated the chopsticks. The heat still escaped from the food, carrying with it a smell he would recognize even with his eyes closed.

He tasted it.

The tuna melted on his tongue, and he almost let out a satisfied groan.

That was unfair.

He ate enough to forget he was angry with you, but still, when he picked up his phone, he could feel his pride burning beneath his skin.

Atsumu looked at his contact, opened the conversation without further ado, and stared at the screen for a few seconds.

Then he typed:

"I ate."

He sent the message.

Right after, before he could overthink it and delete it, he wrote:

"I still think I was right, but I overreacted. Sorry."

The message was sent too quickly.

Atsumu stared at it for a few seconds, as if he could undo it just by looking at the screen.

He couldn't.

Finally, he typed:

"Come see me when training is over."