The squeak of sneakers against the polished floor echoed across the gym, the steady rhythm of volleyballs slamming against palms and reverberating off the floor filling the air.

Shiratorizawa’s practice was as strict and demanding as always.

Ushijima hammering spikes with ruthless precision, Semi sending up clean, sharp sets, Shirabu directing drills with his sharp eyes, Tendō cackling in the background whenever a block landed perfectly.

You had been off to the side, as usual, working through your own drills.

Your style had always been a little different, and Coach Washijō had allowed it up until now, so long as you stayed disciplined.

You thrived in the isolation, perfecting movement without distraction. But today, Washijō’s voice snapped through the gym like a whip.

“Enough of this!” His cane struck the floor hard, the sharp sound silencing nearly everyone mid-movement.

“Volleyball is not a game for one person. If you think you’ll get anywhere by only working alone, you’re a fool. Get on the court. With them.”

His gnarled finger jabbed toward the rest of the team, clustered together and catching their breath. “Learn to trust. Learn to be trusted.”

Every eye turned toward you.

*Tendō’s grin spread immediately, wide and cat-like^. “Oooh, this’ll be fun. Finally joining the monsters, huh?” he called, already bouncing on his heels.

His excitement drew a few chuckles from Reon and Yamagata, though Shirabu just rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about how this would slow things down.

Still, there was a flicker of curiosity in everyone’s gaze.

You stepped forward, bag dropped by the benches, sneakers squealing softly as you crossed onto the glossy wood of the main court.

Your presence seemed to change the air — the way the third years straightened, the way Goshiki puffed his chest out like he had something to prove, the way Ushijima’s calm eyes followed you with a weight that carried no judgment, only interest.

Goshiki practically bounced on the balls of his feet, impatient to show off.

Semi tossed a ball up into his hands, his sharp grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess we’ll see how well you fit in with us after all,” he said, tone casual but edged with a challenge.

Shirabu gave you a long look, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Don’t drag us down,” he said bluntly, but the tightness of his jaw suggested he was more nervous than dismissive.

The drill began.