The gym's double doors were propped open, letting the cool afternoon breeze swirl in and stir the faint smell of polished wood. Laughter and overlapping voices spilled into the hallway long before Akira stepped inside. The sound wasn't competitive shouting — no rally calls, no ball thuds — just the energetic chaos of a team gathering without a game to anchor them.
Karasuno High's gym wasn't intimidating. If anything, it had a warm, almost lived-in quality — scuffed court lines, a slightly squeaky floorboard near the far wall, banners fluttering from uneven strings. It felt… human. Not the gleaming, overly formal kind of sports facility Akira had seen in tournaments.
Aya was already there, stationed near the equipment cart like a general taking inventory. A slim clipboard rested in her left hand, pen tapping rhythmically against it. The only thing betraying her "new" status was the bright white cloth armband wrapped around her upper arm with "ASSISTANT MANAGER" written in bold marker — the handwriting suspiciously flamboyant.
Her eyes flicked up at the exact moment Akira entered behind Hinata and Kageyama. "You're late."
Akira's gaze drifted to the wall clock.Five minutes early.He let the pause hang before answering in his low, unhurried drawl."We're five minutes early."
"That's late for introductions," Aya replied, already scribbling something down. Her voice was even, but Akira caught the faintest curve of a smirk at the corner of her mouth — as if she was testing him to see if he'd take the bait.
Hinata grinned like she'd just delivered a volleyball spike. "See, Akira? She's scarier than the teachers."
Akira didn't dignify that with a glance. Instead, he tilted his head toward the clipboard. "What's the list for?"
"Name order. And where you'll stand for photos later," she said, still writing.
Akira blinked slowly. "Photos? What am I, a collectible card?"
From somewhere off to the side, a burst of energy cut in."Exactly!" Nishinoya appeared like a small, excitable storm, practically vibrating as he bounded up beside Aya. "And you—" he stabbed a finger at Akira's chest "—are my junior. My pride. My legacy."
Akira raised one brow. "Your what?"
"My junior!" Nishinoya repeated, bouncing on his toes. "I get to show off that the coolest, tallest, most laid-back first-year in Karasuno history is under my wing."
Akira looked down at him. "You sure I'm not under your hair?"
Aya coughed into her hand — not quite hiding a laugh. Nishinoya gasped in mock offense, clutching his head like Akira had struck a mortal blow.
Daichi's voice rang out, pulling focus like the reliable captain he was. "Alright, everyone, let's get started. First-years, line up."
Hinata, Kageyama, Akira, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi shuffled into place. Well — mostly into place. Hinata couldn't stand still, practically bouncing, while Akira hung a fraction behind the others as if conserving energy by not committing fully to the "line" concept.
Tanaka, hands on knees, leaned forward with an evaluating squint. "Not bad. We've got height, speed, and…" His gaze landed on Akira. "What's your deal?"
"Breathing mostly," Akira said.
Somewhere to his left, Tsukishima let out a short, sharp snort — the kind that carried equal parts amusement and derision. Hands in pockets, the tall blond gave them all a slow once-over before speaking in his dry, almost bored tone.
"Alright… Shrimp." He jerked his chin at Hinata."King." At Kageyama, who immediately stiffened."Tower." To Akira, who responded with a slow, sarcastic clap."Me." He gestured lazily to himself."And Sidekick." A pat on Yamaguchi's shoulder.
"Sidekick?" Yamaguchi groaned.
"Could've been worse," Akira murmured. "He could've called you Accessory."
Hinata jabbed a finger toward Akira. "Wait, why are you Tower? I'm tall too!"
Akira gave him a look so flat it could've been ironed. "Hinata, I'm pretty sure your vertical jump height is shorter than my reach."
"That's not fair!" Hinata protested. "I make up for it with speed!"
Kageyama crossed his arms. "Speed without control is useless."
Hinata whipped toward him. "I do have control!"
"No, you—" Kageyama started, but Akira cut in, voice as calm as if they were debating tea brands.
"You're both wrong. Speed with bad control can still be useful if you're unpredictable enough. But in your case, Hinata, it's about seventy percent unpredictability and thirty percent panic."
Hinata's brows furrowed. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"
"Yes," Akira said.
Aya scribbled something on her clipboard without looking up. "Note: Toru enjoys psychological chaos."
The seniors took turns introducing themselves, but no one mentioned positions or stats — it was all personality and banter. Nishinoya's introductions of the new boys were wildly embellished, turning Akira into a "mysterious prodigy" and Hinata into "Karasuno's pocket rocket." Tanaka attempted to pull them into "manly spirit" poses, which Akira half-heartedly joined, one hand still in his pocket.
Suga, calm and smiling, welcomed each first-year with the kind of warmth that made even Kageyama's stiff nod seem like acceptance.
From his spot, Akira watched the currents of interaction with idle curiosity.Hinata gravitates to enthusiasm like a plant to sunlight. Kageyama only relaxes when talking about something technical. Tsukishima doesn't commit until he decides you're worth his time. Yamaguchi… probably the glue that stops Tsukishima from being a full-time antagonist.
As for himself? He let the flow move around him, answering when addressed, smirking when someone tried too hard to impress. Nishinoya was still glued to his side, introducing him to every senior like a prized rare find.
Aya drifted back over during a lull. "You're popular already," she observed.
"Tragic," Akira replied.
"It's going to make my job harder."
"Your job is to keep things running smoothly. If you can't handle one charismatic Tower, you're in trouble."
She finally looked up, eyes locking on his. "I handle three dozen volleyballs, sweaty players, and Nishinoya's energy daily. You're a lightweight problem."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he said.
From across the gym, Hinata's voice rang out like a flare: "Hey! Tower! Come here!"
Akira wandered over to find Hinata and Kageyama in the midst of what looked suspiciously like a petty standoff.
"We were talking," Hinata began.
"We were not talking," Kageyama cut in, "I was explaining."
Akira tilted his head. "Explaining what?"
"That Hinata needs to stop—" Kageyama started.
"That Kageyama needs to stop acting like the boss!" Hinata blurted.
Akira's gaze slid between them, expression unreadable. "Ah. You're the bickering married couple dynamic."
Hinata's ears turned red. "We're not—!"
Kageyama's scowl deepened. "Don't call it—"
"Noted," Akira said, already walking away.
Tsukishima intercepted him mid-route. "You really planning to put up with those two all year?"
"Depends," Akira said. "How long until you get tired of pretending you don't care?"
The corner of Tsukishima's mouth lifted in the barest smirk. "Tower's got teeth. I like it."
"I'll put that on my résumé," Akira said.
Yamaguchi, lingering nearby, asked tentatively, "Do… all your conversations sound like this?"
"Yes," Akira said.
By the time Daichi called for wrap-up, the gym had become a mesh of casual conversations and laughter. No one had touched a volleyball. But Akira had mapped the first pieces of the team's social puzzle:
Hinata — kinetic sunshine with no brakes.Kageyama — a perfectionist's precision, tightly wound.Tsukishima — sharp intellect behind a lazy shield.Yamaguchi — loyal gravity for his taller friend.Aya — clipboard-wielding tactician in disguise.
As they filed out, Nishinoya slung an arm over Akira's shoulders. "Admit it — you're glad you came."
Akira looked toward the dusky sky beyond the gym doors. "We'll see."
Aya, walking ahead, called back without turning. "Too late to back out. I already wrote your name on the roster."