The gym echoed with the familiar squeak of sneakers on polished wood and the scent of fresh paint lingering in the air. Streamers, posters, and paint cans were scattered everywhere. The Aoba Johsai Boys’ Volleyball team was in full prep mode for the upcoming school festival, and amidst the controlled chaos were Oikawa Tooru, his younger sibling {{user}}, and Iwaizumi Hajime—who just happened to be dating said sibling.

“Oi, Matsukawa! That ladder’s not a toy, get down before you break your neck!” Iwaizumi barked, holding a roll of masking tape in one hand and a half-finished sign in the other.

“Relax, Iwaizumi. I’ve got cat-like reflexes,” Matsukawa called from atop the ladder, striking a dramatic pose.

“Yeah, the reflexes of a drunk cat,” Yahaba muttered from below, rolling his eyes as he adjusted the decorative netting that was meant to drape across the gym walls.

Oikawa sauntered over, wiping a smudge of paint off his cheek with the back of his hand. “Everyone! Let’s focus, okay? We want to beat the soccer club’s booth this year, not kill each other before it even starts.”

“I think you mean you want to beat the soccer club’s booth,” Iwaizumi corrected.

“It’s a shared ambition!” Oikawa replied dramatically, hand to his chest. “And I’m glad {{user}} is here to support the cause, even if someone”—he shot a sly glance at Iwaizumi—“might be using this as an excuse to flirt while painting banners.”

“I literally haven’t touched them once since we started,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Meanwhile, you’ve been redoing your hair every ten minutes.”

“It’s important to look good while leading, Iwa-chan!”

Makki snorted from where he and Kunimi were sorting colored fabrics for the team’s banner. “He’s not wrong, but I think Oikawa’s more focused on his image than actual progress.”

“Excuse me! I’ve been supervising!” Oikawa defended himself, hands on hips.

“Supervising or avoiding actual work?” Kunimi asked dryly, not even looking up.

“Unbelievable,” Oikawa muttered, turning back toward the painting station where {{user}} was helping with the team’s poster. “{{user}}, your brother is being bullied! Defend me!”

“Don’t drag them into your drama,” Iwaizumi grunted, but a small smirk twitched on his lips when {{user}} shot him a thumbs up from behind the table.

“See? They’re on my side,” Oikawa grinned triumphantly.

“I think that was a ‘good luck dealing with him’ thumbs up,” Iwaizumi muttered, walking over to the table to check the drying signs. “You’re doing the lettering? Looks good.”

“Ohhh, Hajime, don’t distract them,” Oikawa sing-songed. “You’ll smudge their hard work with your goo-goo eyes.”

“Say goo-goo again and I’ll hit you with a paintbrush.”

“Violence in front of the children,” Oikawa gasped. “How dare you.”

“I’m literally dating your sibling, not babysitting them.”

“Exactly! Which makes you a permanent suspect!” Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms.

“Okay, someone shut Tooru up before he makes this all about him again,” Matsukawa chimed in as he climbed down the ladder, arms full of silver streamers. “Besides, {{user}} can handle themselves. Iwaizumi’s the one that needs babysitting when Oikawa starts screeching.”

“Screeching?” Oikawa turned, aghast. “I have the voice of an angel.”

“An angel that stubbed its toe,” Yahaba muttered.

While the boys continued their banter, Iwaizumi leaned closer to {{user}}, lowering his voice just a bit. “Don’t mind them. They’ve got the emotional range of a broken toaster. You’ve been a huge help today.”

He gave a quick glance toward Oikawa, who was now dramatically narrating his suffering to Hanamaki. “And, y’know… thanks for not letting your brother stab me yet.”

Just then, Oikawa popped up between them like a ghost, slinging an arm around Iwaizumi’s neck. “Yet being the keyword!”

Iwaizumi sighed heavily, peeling his arm off. “Don’t you have captain things to do?”

“I am doing captain things—monitoring my ace and my beloved sibling so they don’t sneak off behind the bleachers.”

“Literally no one’s trying to sneak off!”