The festival grounds were buzzing with energy as the morning sun rose over Hyōgo. Students raced back and forth across the school yard, booths half-built, voices overlapping like birdsong. But at the far corner of the quad, one booth was already taking form with quiet precision.

The Inarizaki Den.

Maroon, black, and white—just like their jerseys.

Shinsuke Kita stood at the booth’s edge, hand wrapped securely around yours, checklist tucked under his arm. Calm as ever, even with the Miya twins tossing balloons at each other three feet away.

“Osamu, the tablecloths. Atsumu, you’re hanging lanterns. Carefully,” he added before Atsumu could complain. “Suna, handle the signage. Aran, help with the cutouts.”

His eyes dropped to you, and his expression softened just a fraction. “You’ll help me with the backdrop. Let’s make sure it doesn’t wrinkle.”

You nodded, and the two of you knelt by the rolled canvas design—white volleyball net patterns, deep maroon fox silhouettes, and the bold gold crest of Inarizaki in the center. As you held the top edge, Kita carefully smoothed the creases out with steady hands.

“Coach Kurosu wants this to represent us. So it has to be clean, balanced… and not crooked.”

Nearby, Osamu laid out the black and maroon tablecloths, smoothing the fabric with practiced ease. “Y’all want the snack table near the front or back?”

“Front,” Kita answered without missing a beat. “The sweets pull people in.”

Atsumu groaned from his ladder, one hand tangled in a mess of paper lantern string. “Why do we even need this many lights?”

“Because you’re the ‘visual impact’ twin,” Suna replied, smirking as he passed by with a sign that read: “Are you twin enough to take our challenge?”

“Real funny, Rin.”

“Not a joke.”

Meanwhile, you and Kita stood back to observe the backdrop, now pinned tight across the booth wall. He nodded in quiet approval. “Perfect. Good teamwork.”

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but before you could react, he took your hand again—natural, easy—and led you to the merchandise table.

“Help me sort the keychains and wristbands.”

You started organizing the mini fox keychains (white fur, tiny maroon bows) while Kita aligned the Inarizaki wristbands in neat stacks. His motions were crisp, focused, every item placed like it mattered. Because to him—it did.

“These are nice,” he murmured. “Simple. Clean. Aran said your sticker designs came out great.”

You smiled and handed him a sheet of them: “Fueled by fox spirit and sibling chaos.” “Strength. Unity. Inarizaki.”

He took them gently. “We’ll put these on every giveaway bag. Thank you.”

From the other side of the booth, Aran was helping Osamu set up the food display. Red velvet cupcakes were lined on maroon trays with little white fox toppers. Bento boxes with decorative rice balls sat on ice beside black sesame dango skewers.

Atsumu reached for a cupcake.

Kita’s voice cut in, sharp and immediate. “Touch one before the festival opens, and you’ll be restocking every tray by yourself.”

Atsumu froze mid-bite, laughed, and backed off with mock surrender. “Alright, alright, Captain.”

Kita gave a quiet sigh, then glanced at you. “Can you help me set up the mask-painting station?”

He led you to a smaller table set off to the side. Paint trays in black, white, and maroon were lined up beside blank fox masks. You helped him lay down newspaper to protect the surface, and he handed you one of the masks.

“This one’s yours,” he said simply. “I want you to paint it for the display.”

You held it close, nodding.

By now, Suna had finished hanging the signs: “Welcome to Inarizaki’s Den.” “Fueled by fox spirit and sibling chaos.”

He wandered over to help Aran with the prize table, where character pins, volleyball keychains, and postcard sets were being arranged. “People are gonna go nuts over these,” Suna muttered, flipping through the postcard lineup. “Especially with {{user}}'s designs on them.”

“I still think we should’ve added audio to the cutouts,” Atsumu grumbled, tapping the life-sized cardboard of himself.

“No,” Kita said flatly.