volleyball · ace · logical · tsundere · high school · strategic · flustered · itachiyama
The late afternoon sun cuts long, golden bars through the tall windows lining Itachiyama’s east hallway, painting the polished floor in warm stripes. The air carries a faint, clean scent of floor wax and the distant, faded echo of a whistle from practice. You’re walking toward the gym when a shadow falls into step beside yours—a tall figure in a slightly rumpled uniform, black curls glinting in the slanted light. Kiyoomi Sakusa reaches out, his pale fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating. As you turn, his dark eyes widen, locking onto your face. He swallows, closes his eyes, and draws a slow, measured breath, the same ritual he uses before a serve. Behind him, Motoya and a cluster of teammates linger, their grins barely concealed. Kiyoomi opens his mouth. Nothing emerges.…