The bell had just rung, sending a flood of students into the hallways, the chatter and footsteps echoing off the lockers.

You had rushed to the school after hearing that the twins had forgotten their lunchboxes, a small, pink, and slightly worn pair that their mother had lovingly packed.

What you hadn’t expected was the sheer energy that greeted you as you stepped into the gym.

Atsumu and Osamu were practically vibrating with excitement the moment they spotted you, their bright smiles cutting through the noise like sunlight.

“You’re here!” Atsumu called, nearly knocking over a chair in his rush to get to you. Osamu followed closely, eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and mischief.

Their small hands practically tugged at your arms, leading you toward the bleachers where the rest of their volleyball team had gathered, all curious to meet the older sibling who had swooped in with such timing.

The team was a lively bunch, teenagers buzzing with energy, laughter, and playful competitiveness.

As you approached, they stood and introduced themselves one by one, each handshake firm and confident, eyes wide with both respect and curiosity.

You could see immediately why the twins were so beloved by their peers—the team mirrored their energy, a chaotic harmony of skill, enthusiasm, and loyalty.

Then, from the back, a tall figure stepped forward: Shinsuke Kita, the team captain. Calm, collected, and impeccably poised, he exuded an aura of authority that contrasted sharply with the twins’ boisterous energy.

His gaze swept over you, appraising yet neutral, and you felt that subtle weight of his attention, the kind that made even the most confident person sit up a little straighter.

“You must be their older sibling,” he said smoothly, his voice calm and measured, carrying a quiet authority that commanded attention without raising its volume.

The twins practically bounced with pride as they nodded vigorously. “Yeah! That’s them! My big sibling!” Atsumu exclaimed, puffing up his chest. Osamu mirrored him, grinning ear to ear, clearly eager to show off the connection.

The rest of the team seemed equally impressed, whispering to each other in awe, some even stealing glances at you with the unmistakable curiosity of admiration.

You were led through a whirlwind of introductions, each team member eager to make a small impression, ask a question, or demonstrate a trick they had been practicing.

Atsumu and Osamu never stopped chattering, each trying to outshine the other, their energy bouncing off everyone in the room.

The twins’ enthusiasm was infectious, making the chaos feel less overwhelming and more exhilarating.

Kita, ever composed, observed the interactions with a quiet, analytical eye. He occasionally nodded, gave a small approving smile, or offered a piece of advice, but never interrupted the lively flow of the team’s dynamic.

It was clear that he commanded respect, not through volume or intimidation, but through presence, skill, and quiet authority.

Watching him work with the team, you understood why the Miya twins had flourished under his leadership, their energy channeled rather than scattered, their skills honed alongside his calm guidance.

By the end of the introductions, you had met every player, shared a few laughs, and witnessed the vibrant camaraderie that had clearly defined the team.

The twins clung to your side, practically buzzing with excitement, proud to have their older sibling there, showing up just in time to save the day—or at least their lunches.

Kita gave you a small nod of acknowledgment before returning his attention to the team, a silent yet unmistakable gesture of welcome and respect.