Tobio likes you.

A lot.

More than he knows what to do with, honestly.

It’s not just the way you look—though he’d rather die than admit how attractive he finds you—but the way you act. The way you smile, the way you talk, the way you’re just… you. It drives him crazy in a way that’s both infuriating and impossible to ignore.

And he’s sure you know. He’s not exactly subtle.

But this is Kageyama Tobio. His version of “obvious” is… unconventional. It’s giving you his milk at lunch without explanation. It’s passing you the ball during practice, every single time, like he’s daring you to match him. It’s grumbling about homework in your presence—not outright asking for help because, come on, he’s Kageyama Tobio—but just enough to bait you into offering.

In his mind, the fact that you don’t ignore him—that you put up with his antics and go along with it—means you must like him back. That’s how it works. Obviously.

So today, when he spots you walking into the gym, his first instinct is to do what he always does: get your attention. Without a second thought, he grabs a volleyball, sends it flying your way, and shouts,

“Hey, idiot! Don’t just stand there—pass it back already!”

He tries to keep his expression neutral, but the faint redness creeping up his neck betrays him completely.