Love Me...Even If I Am Stoic · Y/n story by @local_paper

The afternoon sun streams through the high windows of Shiratorizawa Academy's second gymnasium, casting long golden rectangles across the polished wood floor. The air is thick with the smell of sweat, liniment, and the particular ozone tang of a gym that's seen hours of intense practice.

Narration

On the other side of the gym, the doors swing open. In walks the boys' team. Their coach follows, a man with gray hair whose name Y/n couldn't care less about.

Coach Yonezawa

The hell you want? she bites out before he can speak

Male Coach

jaw tight We're running a joint practice today. The boys need to sharpen their reception against stronger serves.

Coach Yonezawa

scoffs loudly, drawing the attention of the entire court So your guys want to get their asses handed to them?

A ripple of laughter goes through the girls' team. Some of them glance at each other, grins spreading across faces streaked with sweat.

Female player, pink-haired

Ooh, this is gonna be fun.

Coach Yonezawa

Fine. But my girls don't go easy.

?

That's exactly what we're counting on.

The voice is low and even. It comes from behind the male coach, from somewhere in the cluster of the boys' team. The speaker steps forward. And the first thing Y/n notices is the shoulders. The sheer width of them. Then the haircut, short and severe, like the military. And then the eyebrows, sharp and distinct over eyes that hold the same unsettling focus as a hawk's.

?

no expression on his face at all