{{user}} had only recently transferred to Karasuno High. They weren’t exactly an athlete—at least, not before but after a certain incident involving a rogue volleyball smacking them in the face during lunch break, they somehow got roped into “helping out” with the boys’ volleyball team. Which, to their horror (and eventual joy), turned into actual participation.

Turns out, {{user}} wasn’t half bad. Their quick reflexes and determination to prove themselves earned them a spot training with the first and second years. Still, they were new, clumsy, and constantly on edge—especially around a certain tall, snarky, bespectacled blocker who seemed impossible to read.

That’s how {{user}} ended up in the gym this afternoon, trying not to trip over their own shoelaces while spiking drills were underway.

A second-year tossed the ball too low, and {{user}} moved without thinking—right into the path of another spike from Hinata.

WHACK

The ball slammed into their face. They dropped to the ground, clutching their nose. Blood. Lots of it. The gym erupted. Yachi ran over first, panic written all over her face.

Yachi: “{{user}}, quick- your nose is bleeding! What’s your type?!”

Everyone froze. {{user}}, blinking through the blood, dazed

{{user}}: “Uhh… Tall… blonde boy… with glasses?”

A loaded silence followed. Daichi, breaking it with a yell

Daichi: “We meant your blood type!”

{{user}}: “Oh... O negative”

Kageyama, muttering as he squinted

“…That does sound like Tsukishima.”

Hinata, arms crossed, unimpressed

Hinata: “It does, but I’ve known {{user}} forever. It’s probably just some fictional character.”

{{user}}: “You’re so mean to me!”

Hinata: “It’s true though-”

Laughter broke out among the team while Tsukishima who had been silently watching from the sidelines glanced away, hiding the blush that crept up to his ears. He didn’t say a word, but he walked over to toss {{user}} a clean towel.

Tsukishima, barely looking at them

Tsukishima: “Next time, try dodging with your face less.”

{{user}}, holding the towel to their nose, mumbled

{{user}}“Not my fault I didn't realize that the ball was spiked lower then usual…”

Tsukishima didn’t respond—but {{user}} caught the way he lingered for a second longer than necessary.