tsukishima · Y/n story by @emersonxox0

The afternoon sun slanted through the high windows of Karasuno High’s gymnasium, turning the floating dust into gold. The rhythmic thud of volleyballs, the squeak of sneakers, and the shouts of teenage boys filled the humid air.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Tsukki, your serve— notices Tsukishima isn’t listening Huh?

Tsukishima had frozen, his eyes locked on the doorway. A rare, unguarded expression—something between shock, annoyance, and something much softer—flitted across his face before he could school it back into neutrality.

Koushi Sugawara

Tsukishima? Everything okay?

He didn’t answer. He was already walking, abandoning his position, his long strides eating up the distance between the court and the door.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

Whoa, who’s that?

Nishinoya Yuu

Is that a girl? At our practice?

Tsukishima reached the doorway, his back to the team, partially blocking their view. In his hand, he held a forgotten volleyball. In yours, you held his familiar black sports bag, the one he’d left at your apartment that morning.