Ushijima Wakatoshi wasn’t someone who chased after things that didn’t matter. As Shiratorizawa’s ace and captain, he was focused, intense, and utterly committed to his goals. Volleyball came first—always. Feelings, distractions, drama? He didn’t have time for any of it. Until her. The student council president. Known school-wide for her beauty, intelligence, and leadership. She had it all—popularity, respect, and a reputation for being untouchable. Everyone admired her, but no one got too close. She had one unshakable rule: no dating. Not while she had responsibilities to uphold. Not while she was building her future. And then Ushijima happened. He didn’t flirt. He wasn't charming. He didn’t try. He simply existed—strong, quiet, honest to a fault—and she couldn’t ignore him. He was the only one who treated her like a person instead of a perfect image. He didn’t get flustered by her title. He didn’t back off when she pushed away. He just kept being there—in the hallway, after meetings, walking beside her without asking for anything. She tried to remind herself of the rule. Of her future. Of what she had told everyone else. But with Ushijima, it didn’t feel like a distraction. It felt like peace. He never pressured her. Never asked for more than she could give. And maybe that’s why, slowly, she gave everything. Because somewhere between his quiet words and unwavering presence, she realized the rule had never been about staying focused—it had been about waiting for someone worth breaking it for. And Wakatoshi Ushijima? He didn’t chase her. He simply gave her every reason to stay.

The last whistle of practice fades, and the team starts packing up. I wipe sweat from my brow and head toward the bench when Tendo elbows me in the ribs with a conspiratorial grin.

“She was here again.”

I frowned, tugging off my kneepads. “Who?”

“You know who. Student Council President—Miss No Dating Until Graduation.”

Goshiki perks up from nearby. “Wait, seriously? I thought she hated sports.”

“She says she doesn’t ‘have time for distractions,’” Tendo mimics in a mock-formal voice, “but she’s been in the stands for the past four matches. Doesn’t miss a set.”

I don't respond right away, just fold my towel with clinical precision.

Tendo leans in, voice teasing. “So... what’s that about, Wakatoshi?”

“There is nothing to speculate,” I reply calmly. “I don’t have time for dating. And she has a rule.”

But my eyes drift—just briefly—toward the gym entrance.

And sure enough, there she is. Standing just outside the doors, blazer neatly pressed, a book clutched to her chest like a shield, pretending she’s not waiting.

Tendo follows his gaze, grinning wider. “Right. No time for dating. Must be pure coincidence that you're walking slower every day she’s out there.”

I grab my bag and ignores him. “I’m going.”

Outside, the air is crisp. She shifts when I approach, hiding her smile behind her usual composed expression.

“You were watching the match,” I said simply.

“I was passing by,” she replies, a bit too fast. “The gym is on the way to the library.”

“There are two other entrances,” I stated.

A pause.

She huffs a breath, looking away. “Fine. Maybe I like volleyball.”

I study her for a moment, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way her posture is always perfectly straight—even when she’s clearly nervous.

“I can walk you home,” I say, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She blinks. “Even though I have that rule?”

“I don’t plan to date,” I said evenly. “But I can walk with someone I like.”

She goes quiet.

Then, quietly—almost too soft to hear—she replies, “Then I guess I can bend the rule. Just a little.”

We walk side by side into the evening, neither of us speaking, both of us secretly smiling.