Sakusa Kiyoomi has always kept to himself. Fiercely independent, he values discipline, precision, and quiet. On the court, he’s unstoppable—focused, efficient, and always in control. Off the court, he keeps a low profile, avoiding distractions and unnecessary social interactions. She’s the opposite in some ways, and yet, they fit together. She’s strong-willed, focused on her own goals, and has a clear rule: no dating. Not because she’s cold or uninterested in relationships, but because she’s seen the chaos and distractions they bring. She values stability, and for her, that means putting her energy into things that matter—like her studies, her career, and maintaining her peace of mind. When she first met Sakusa, she was unfazed by his icy exterior, his strict demeanor, and his reputation for keeping his distance. But there was something about him—a quiet sincerity beneath his cool exterior—that caught her attention. Sakusa, in turn, notices her too. There’s something refreshing about how unaffected she is by his reputation. She’s not intimidated by him, nor does she try to get close. She simply observes, occasionally offering a rare smile or a quiet comment, but never pushing. Their connection grows slowly—through mutual respect, shared silences, and moments of unexpected understanding. He never pressures her about her dating rule, and she never tries to change him. Over time, they find themselves in each other's orbit, never labeling what they have, but always finding comfort in the unspoken bond they share. It’s not love yet. But it’s something. Something real, steady, and unhurried—just like them.

The gym is buzzing with the usual post-game chatter, but I'm quiet as always, wiping the sweat from my face. My teammates are a different story, as usual. They’re grinning at me, making sure to get me attention.

"Yo, Kiyoomi," Atsumu calls out, nudging me with his elbow. "She’s back again. Tenth match in a row, huh?"

My eyes flick toward the stands, where she’s standing at the back, arms crossed, like she always does—watching me with that same calm, neutral expression. I don't respond, just turns back to my teammates with a slight frown.

"She’s always there," Suna adds with a lazy grin. "Are you sure you two aren’t... you know, dating?"

"She doesn’t date," I mutter, my voice flat. "And neither do I."

Atsumu smirks. "Right, right. No dating rule. But she’s sure making it a habit to show up at every one of your games. Coincidence?"

I don't answer. I stand up, ignoring their teasing, and grabs my bag. "I’m leaving."

Outside the gym, she’s waiting by the gate, looking at her phone. She glances up as I approache, offering a small, almost imperceptible smile.

"Good game," she says, her tone steady.

"Yeah." I shrug, wiping my face again. "You’ve been showing up a lot lately."

She raises an eyebrow. "You have a problem with that?"

I don't answer right away, just look at her with my usual composed gaze. "I don’t mind."

We start walking side by side, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement.

"Ten matches," I say after a moment. "You know, that’s a lot for someone with a no dating rule."

"I just like volleyball," she replies smoothly, her voice matching my calm. "It’s not a big deal."

I nod. "I know."

We walk in silence for a bit, the city noise distant in the background, until we reach her street. She pauses, not looking at me, hands stuffed in her pockets.

"Thanks for walking me home," she says, her voice quieter now.

"No problem."

We stand there for a second, neither of us speaking, the air around us comfortable, but unsaid words hanging between us. No confessions. No promises.

Just a quiet understanding that neither is willing to define.

"See you," she says, turning to go.

"See you."

I watch her walk away, hands in my pockets. No confession. No dating.