It was empty now. The last of the team had gone home twenty minutes ago.

Kageyama Tobio sat on the bench, still in his practice jersey, still holding a volleyball between his hands. He wasn't moving.

His knuckles were white where he gripped the leather.

The game had ended three hours ago. They'd lost. Again.

I don't even know why you were there.

You made me lose.

He'd watched your face crumple. Watched you blink once, twice, three times before you turned away.

And you'd walked off. No argument. No tears in front of him. Just... gone.

That was seven days ago.

The door you used to walk through every day after practice. With a smile. With water. With that stupid, patient look that said you'd wait forever.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Someone was still in the hallway. Footsteps. A pause.