The gym was already loud when Akira stepped in, the kind of loud that wasn't just noise — it was layers of chaos, stacked and tangled like a badly coiled volleyball net.
Tanaka's voice boomed from the far end, equal parts enthusiasm and bad decision-making. Hinata was bounding from one end of the court to the other, not actually participating in the drill but somehow managing to intercept three people's movements at once. Kageyama barked something unintelligible that sounded like "Move faster!" except it came out more like "MO—ffst!"
And in the middle of it all, Daichi's voice rose above the din in a futile attempt to restore order.
Akira stopped just inside the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes lazily sweeping across the scene.
Tanaka: high decibel output, minimal filtering. Probably the type to tell a joke before checking if it's appropriate.Daichi: Dad energy, but maybe the kind of dad who lets the toddler run in the store "to learn."Sugawara: smiles too much — dangerous. No one is that cheerful without plotting something.Tsukishima… Akira's gaze lingered on the tall blond. Ah, yes. Condescending giraffe. Voice like it's allergic to enthusiasm.
"Wow." Aya's voice broke his thoughts. She stood a step behind him, clipboard hugged to her chest, ponytail swaying slightly. "I think I just got a migraine from watching them."
Akira smirked. "Welcome to the flock."
"Is it always this—"
"Chaotic? Yeah. But in a weirdly… productive way. Think ant colony, but every ant thinks they're the queen."
Aya bit back a laugh as the sound of a ball smacking into the wall echoed. "And what's your role in this ant colony, exactly?"
Akira tilted his head, eyes narrowing in mock thought. "Observer. Occasional provocateur."
Before Aya could ask what that meant, Coach Ukai blew the whistle. "Gather up!"
The team shuffled in, though "shuffled" was generous. It was more like a controlled stampede. Aya sat cross-legged on the side, scribbling notes she probably wouldn't need, while Akira leaned casually against the wall.
Ukai started talking about training schedules, but his voice was quickly drowned by small side conversations. Hinata was whispering something to Yamaguchi. Tanaka was gesturing wildly at Kageyama, who looked seconds away from walking away entirely.
"Hey," Akira called lazily, "just wondering… is this a meeting or a festival?"
That earned him a few side-eyes. Tsukishima, in particular, raised a brow. "Big talk from the guy leaning like he's in a fashion ad."
Akira didn't blink. "Better than towering like an irritated lamp post."
A couple of first-years choked back laughter. Tanaka laughed loudly, which earned him a smack from Daichi.
Tsukishima smirked. "Lazy Oracle."
Akira blinked. "Excuse me?"
"That's your nickname now. You sit there, say one cryptic thing, and suddenly everyone reacts."
The rest of practice passed in much the same way — Akira contributing almost no actual physical effort but somehow managing to get people both flustered and laughing. Aya was scribbling so much she eventually gave up and started just doodling volleyballs on her notes.
When practice ended, the seniors called the first-years together.
"Tomorrow, we're doing something different," Daichi announced. "No volleyball. Just… bonding."
"Bonding?" Kageyama repeated like it was a foreign word.
"Yeah," Sugawara said, grinning. "Trust games, team challenges. You know — getting to know each other off the court."
Akira's eyes half-lidded. Translation: supervised chaos.
The next day proved him right.
The "trust fall" exercise failed instantly because Kageyama flat-out refused to let Hinata catch him. "You'd drop me," he argued.
"I would not!" Hinata yelled.
"You would," Akira muttered from the sidelines, earning a glare from both of them.
The "build the tallest tower with gym mats" challenge went fine until Tanaka decided to "add excitement" by tackling Tsukishima mid-construction.
By the end, everyone was sweaty, laughing, and mildly irritated — but somehow closer.
Akira? He hadn't lifted a single mat. Just threw in the occasional deadpan comment that kept tensions from boiling over.
Across town, the Aoba Johsai gym echoed with the sound of volleyballs and sneakers.
"Hey, Oikawa, you hear about this?" a second-year called, tossing a ball from hand to hand. "Karasuno's got a new guy. Three-time middle school national champ. Name's… Akira Tōru."
The ball in Oikawa's hands thudded to the floor. "…What?"
"You know him?"
Oikawa's jaw tightened. "He's my brother."
Iwaizumi, from the far end of the court, grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
Oikawa glared. "It's not fun. Why is he at Karasuno? He—" He cut himself off, muttering something under his breath.
The captain of Aoba Johsai turned toward the coach, only to hear the news that sealed his expression into a mix of annoyance and determination:
"Practice match with Karasuno. Next week."
That evening, Akira strolled out of Karasuno's gym with Hinata and Aya. The sunset painted the campus in warm gold, the air buzzing with the fading sounds of practice.
"Oh, by the way," Aya said casually, flipping a page on her clipboard, "I overheard Ukai-sensei and Takeda-sensei talking. Something about… facing Aoba Johsai soon?"
Hinata's head snapped toward her. "Seriously?! That's Oikawa's team!"
Akira's smirk was faint but deliberate. "…Guess we'll see how my dear brother reacts."
His tone was light, but in his mind, pieces were already falling into place.