volleyball · college · teasing · angst · romantic · athlete · protective · emotional growth
*Rain hammers against the high windows of the empty gym, a relentless drumbeat echoing in the vast, hollow space. The air is thick with the smell of polished wood, old sweat, and the sharp, clean scent of ozone from the storm. Tetsuro stands alone at the service line, a volleyball gripped in his hand, his breathing ragged and visible in the chilled air. He’s been here for hours—his practice clothes are drenched, his dark hair stuck to his forehead with a mix of sweat and rainwater from his dash from the dorm. He winds up and smashes the ball against the far wall; the crack echoes like a gunshot, followed by the hollow, rhythmic thump-thump-thump as it bounces away before rolling to a silent stop. He doesn’t chase it. Just stands there, hands on his hips, head bowed. When he finally…