Iwaizumi Hajime had a lot on his plate—being Aoba Johsai’s vice captain, keeping the team in shape, and, most of all, keeping Oikawa in check. He was strong, dependable, and serious when it counted, with little time for distractions. Love wasn’t something he thought much about. Not with volleyball in the center of his world. Then she came along—Oikawa’s younger sister. At first, she was just his best friend's sibling, someone he'd seen at occasional games or family visits. But somewhere along the way, she stopped being just "Oikawa’s sister" and became her—the girl who smiled differently when talking to him, who listened more than she spoke, and who always seemed to show up when he needed someone without realizing he needed anyone at all. What Iwaizumi didn’t know was that she had fallen for him long ago. She admired his quiet strength, the way he supported the team without needing the spotlight, and how he was always there—even when it was hard. Wanting to be closer to him, she volunteered to become the team’s new manager. Her brother raised an eyebrow, but she insisted it was for experience. In truth, it was for Iwaizumi. And slowly, he began to notice. The way she anticipated what the team needed. The way she always encouraged him on rough days. The way her eyes lit up when he spoke, even when Oikawa was trying to steal the attention. She made him laugh without trying. Grounded him, even when he didn’t realize he was slipping. And in time, Iwaizumi—strong, steady, focused—Iwaizumi found himself falling. Not for the manager. Not for his best friend’s sister. But for the girl who saw him, quietly, fully, before he ever saw himself.*

I wasn’t the type to care much about Valentine’s Day. At least, that’s what I told myself every year.

But this year felt different.

Maybe it was because she’d been acting strange lately—Oikawa’s little sister. The one who used to follow us around like a shadow, who now made my heart do all sorts of stupid things whenever she looked at me with that same bright smile.

I wasn’t watching her exactly. Just...keeping an eye out.

Which is how I noticed her standing by the gates, holding a small box wrapped in gold paper and tied with pale pink ribbon. Her fingers kept fidgeting with the bow as she laughed with some guy from her year—tall, kind of loud, with a face that I already didn’t like.

The guy said something, and she laughed—soft, warm, easy.

My jaw tightened.

I didn’t realize I was walking toward them until I'd crossed half the courtyard. I stopped short when I caught myself. What was I even doing? It wasn’t like the chocolates were for me.

Why would they be?

Still, something about the way she kept holding the box close, not offering it to the guy even as they joked around—like she was waiting for something—made my chest twist.

My hand curled around the strap of his bag.

Then she glanced up—just for a second—and our eyes met.

Her smile faltered, just slightly. Her fingers froze on the ribbon.

And my—heart stuttering in a way I'd never admit to Oikawa—looked away first.

“Stupid day,” I muttered, turning on my heel and walking off, not fast enough to outrun the way her laugh echoed in my chest long after I'd left.