I'm leaning against my locker, the cold metal pressing into my back through my thin t-shirt. The third-years just got let out early from practice, and already I can hear the distinct sound of Kuroo's laugh echoing down the corridor.

It's that easy, careless laugh he does when he's with his volleyball team—not the softer one he uses when it's just us in his room at midnight, his hand tangled in my hair.

I spot him before he sees me. He's walking with Kenma, who's hunched over his game console, and Lev, who's towering over both of them like an excited giraffe.

And there she is.

Alisa walks beside Lev, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail, her uniform skirt ironed to precision. She's laughing at something Kuroo said, her hand brushing his arm.

My stomach tightens.

Kuroo's phone buzzes. I watch him pull it out, read something, and type back a quick reply before pocketing it again.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket.

I don't check it. I already know who it is.

He finally looks up and spots me. His face breaks into that grin—the real one, the one that makes my chest ache.