OLIVIA

UPCOMING FICS

• I don't have a title yet (Zantetsu)

• Traumatized (Bachira, Rin, Barou, Reo, Isagi, Kaiser, Ness)

• Fake Boyfriend (Sae, Yukimiya, Kaiser, Noa, Ness)

• "You're Cheating On Me!" (Kunigami, Isagi, Ness)

• FWB Gone Wrong (Bachira, Nagi, Reo, Barou, Chigiri)

• Problem Solver (Reo, Isagi)

UPCOMING FICS

• Crushing On Karasuno Manager (Aoba Johsai)

• Fake Boyfriend (Karasuno)

MEGURU BACHIRA

Bachira was the hardest hit by your silence. To him, you were his mirror—you were the one who matched his Monster, the one who danced in the rain with him.

When you sat on the park bench and didn't react to his silly faces, he felt a genuine sense of panic.

"Look, Y/N! I’m a penguin!" he chirped, waddling around in front of you with his arms pinned to his sides. He waited for your laugh, for that bright sound that usually filled his heart.

You just blinked, giving him a weary, faint smile. "That’s nice, Meguru."

He stopped. The playfulness vanished from his face, replaced by an expression of deep, soul-searching concern. He walked over and sat right at your feet, resting his chin on your knees and looking up at you with those huge, golden eyes.

"My Little Monster is quiet today," he said, nudging your knees. "Why is it quiet?"

"I'm just... out of energy, Meguru. I don't feel like myself."

Bachira finally realized that he needed to be the one to provide the warmth. He climbed onto the bench and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala. He buried his face in your neck, letting out a soft, contented hum.

"Then don't be yourself," he whispered, squeezing you tight. "Be my quiet girl. I’ll be the bubble for both of us."

He began to rock you gently back and forth, humming a wordless tune. He went from being the hyperactive boy to the ultimate comfort, his heartbeat steady against your back. "I love you when you’re loud, and I love you when you’re quiet. Just stay right here. I’ll keep the bad thoughts away."

TABITO KARASU

Karasu was a man who lived by analysis. He prided himself on finding weak points in any situation, but usually, that meant on a pitch.

When it came to you, his analysis was usually much more lighthearted. He loved the way your voice went up an octave when you were excited and how you’d practically vibrate with energy when telling a story.

So, when you walked into the room and fell down onto his bed without a single word, staring blankly at the ceiling, his internal alarm blared.

He didn't say anything at first. He just leaned against the doorframe, his sharp eyes tracking the slump of your shoulders. Usually, you’d have greeted him with a "Tabito!" and a hug. Today, you hadn't even looked up.

"Hey," he said, his voice lower than usual, losing that mocking edge he often used with others. He walked over and sat in front of you, forcing you to look at him. "You’re quiet. The world end and nobody told me?"

You tried to give him a small smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. "Just a long day, Tabito. I'm a bit tired."

Karasu clicked his tongue. He reached out, his fingers catching your chin and tilting your head up. "Don't lie to me, baby. Your 'tired' usually involves yapping about a nap. This is different."

Karasu saw your bottom lip tremble for a split second before you bit it. He didn't push for a story though. He knew that sometimes, talking was just more work.

Instead, he stood up and grabbed a thick, oversized hoodie from his bag. He practically draped it over your head, muffling the world.

"Put it on," he said, his tone soft. "We don't have to talk. We’re going to get some of that overpriced ice cream you like, and then we can just sit here and be quiet."

He pulled you up by your hands, tucking you into his side. "I’ve got you. The sun can take a day off, Y/N. I’ll handle the light for a bit."

YO HIORI

Hiori was perhaps the most sensitive soul you knew. He understood the weight of expectations and the exhaustion you felt.

When you arrived at his place and didn't immediately start recounting the funny thing that happened at lunch, he felt a physical ache in his chest for you.

You sat on his bed, hugging your knees to your chest. The room was quiet, filled only with the soft hum of his computer and the evening light.

"Do you want to play something?" he asked softly, sitting down next to you. He didn't look at you directly, giving you the space to breathe. "Or we could just listen to that new lo-fi playlist."

"I think I just want to sit here, Yo," you whispered.

He nodded slowly, his blue hair catching the twilight. He reached out and placed his hand over yours. His skin was cool and steady. "That’s okay. You spend so much time making everyone else feel bright. It’s okay to just be still."

He moved behind you, leaning against the headboard and pulling you back so you were resting against his chest. He began to run his fingers through your hair, a slow, rhythmic motion that felt like waves lapping at a shore. He didn't ask what’s wrong or tried to fix it.

"You don't have to be the bubbly one with me," he murmured into your hair, his voice soft. "If you want to be sad, be sad. If you want to be angry, be angry. I’m not going anywhere."

He pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you securely. In the silence of the room, you finally felt the tension leave your body, anchored by the boy who asked for nothing but your presence.

SAE ITOSHI

Sae was not a man of many words, nor was he particularly warm in the traditional sense. He valued efficiency and stoicism. But he wasn't blind. He knew your rhythms. He knew that your silence wasn't peaceful, but heavy.

He found you in the kitchen, staring at a glass of water like it held the secrets to the universe. You didn't even notice him enter.

"You're being tedious today," Sae said, his voice sharp but lacking its usual bite. You flinched slightly, and his eyes softened, just for a second. He walked over, took the glass from your hand, and set it on the counter. "Stop thinking. Your brain is making too much noise."

"Sae, I—"

"Shh," he interrupted, placing his finger on your lips.

Sae guided you toward the living room, his touch firm and grounding. He sat you down on the sofa and left for a moment, returning with a warm hoodie. He wrapped it around you with a domesticity that would have shocked anyone.

Then Sae sat down next to you, not touching you at first, just existing in your space. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through something, but he wasn't looking at the screen. He was listening to your breathing.

"If someone bothered you, tell me and I'll handle it," Sae said after a long silence. "If it's just life, then sit there and be quiet for an hour. I don't mind."

He reached over and took your hand, his thumb tracing the knuckles. It wasn't the warmest form of comfort, but it was the most honest thing you’d ever felt. He didn't need you to be 'fun.' He just needed you to be there.

SEISHIRO NAGI

Nagi was the king of being quiet, but even he knew that your quiet was wrong. You usually did enough talking for both of you, which he appreciated because it saved him the hassle.

When you came over and just laid face-down on his bed without saying a word, he didn't even pick up his phone.

He crawled onto the bed next to you, lying on his side and poking your shoulder. "Y/N... Did you break?..."

"I'm just tired, Seishiro." Your voice was muffled by the pillow.

"So you're 'bad day tired'," he sighed, the sound long and dramatic.

Nagi moved closer, draping his long, heavy limbs over you until he was essentially pinning you to the mattress. He was like a giant, warm weighted blanket. "It’s a hassle when you’re sad. It makes me feel like I should do something."

"You don't have to do anything, baby."

"I'm doing it now," he murmured, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the space between your shoulder blades. "I’m being your blanket. Don't move."

He stayed like that for hours. He didn't ask questions, he didn't suggest movies, he didn't even play his games. He just breathed with you, his calm, lazy energy seeped into you by sheer osmosis (I'm sorry I had med exams on Friday).

Every once in a while, he’d let out a sleepy "Mmm," and tighten his hold. To Nagi, the world was too loud anyway. He was perfectly happy to sit in the dark and the quiet with you until you felt like yourself again.

CHARLES CHEVALIER

Charles was the boy who never stopped moving. He poked you, teased you, and tried to drag you into every scheme he could think of since kindergarten.

When you rejected him, he assumed you just found him tiring. He thought you wanted someone sophisticated, someone who didn't bounce off the walls, and he spent years trying to calm himself down (and failing) just to win your favor.

He was searching for you to tell you something dumb again when he heard you talking to your bestie.

"He’s my ideal," you said, your voice unusually soft. "He’s the only one who makes me feel like I’m actually living."

Charles hid behind a pillar, grinning, until he heard the rest.

"But I’m so boring," you continued. "I’m so calculated and cold compared to him. If he realized how much effort it takes me to be 'normal' around him, or how much I manipulate situations to stay in his orbit without him knowing... he’d think I’m a sociopath. He’s all light, and I’m just trying to keep from dragging him down."

Charles obviously didn't hesitate. He burst from behind the pillar, his face split into a wild, delighted grin. He tackled you into a hug, spinning you around until your feet left the ground.

"You're a sociopath?! That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard!" he laughed, dumping you back on your feet and grabbing your shoulders. "I thought you rejected me because I was too loud, but you were actually scared you're boring? Y/N, you’re the most interesting person I know! I don't care if you're cold and calculating! We’re a perfect balance! Don't you dare think you're dragging me down! You’re the only thing that keeps me from flying away! We’re both disasters, and that’s why we’re perfect together!"

KENYU YUKIMIYA

Yukimiya was the calmest of them all. He'd handled your rejections with a gentle, patient smile, always stepping back and giving you space. He believed that he wasn't bold enough for you, or that his life as an athlete left too little room for someone as quiet and reserved as you. He convinced himself that you were looking for someone more adventurous.

He was standing outside the school when he heard you talking to your friend.

"Ken is my ideal," you whispered. "He’s the kindest man I’ve ever known."

Yukimiya leaned against the wall, a soft, sad smile on his face.

"But I don't deserve him," you continued, your voice shaking. "I’ve spent my life hiding behind a mask of 'calm.' If he saw how angry I get, or how I wish everything would just burn sometimes... he wouldn't look at me with that smile anymore. He’s too good for the real me."

Yukimiya pushed off the wall, his movements fluid. He walked over to you, his gaze focused entirely on your face, his smile incredibly warm. He reached out and took your hand, pulling you closer.

"You think I don't know the world can be a dark place?" he asked softly, his voice soft like velvet. "I have my own demons too, Y/N. That’s why I cherish your 'calm'. I know exactly how hard you work to maintain it. I don't need you to be perfect. I just need you to be honest with me. The real you—the angry, the petty, the complex you, is the only person I want to know. Stop hiding from me. I've been waiting for you to see yourself the way I see you."

SHOEI BAROU

For Shoei Barou being rejected was the most infuriating thing in his life. He had been chasing you since you were both five, and you had spent every year of your youth dodging his arrogant but sincere advances.

He told himself you were just too timid for his greatness, or that you were intimidated by his intensity. He was convinced he was simply not the "gentle type" you were looking for.

He was walking through the hallway when he heard you talking to a group of friends. He paused, ready to barge in and demand why you’d ignored his text, but your words held him in place.

"Shoei? He’s everything I want," you were saying. "He’s the only one who doesn't treat me like I’m made of glass. He’s my ideal." Barou’s scowl faltered.

"But he’s so proud," you continued, your voice dropping. "He’s got such high standards for the people around him. He thinks I’m this sweet, innocent girl. If he knew how much I’ve lied to keep this image up, or how much I’ve sabotaged others to get what I want... he’d look at me with disgust. I’m not the type he wants. I’m just a fraud, and I can't let him see that."

Barou kicked the locker room door open, the heavy steel echoing down the hall. He strode toward the group, looking like a storm cloud, his shadow engulfing the space you stood in. Your friends scattered, leaving you alone with him. He grabbed your shoulder, his grip firm but not painful, forcing you to look up into his fierce, brooding eyes.

"You think I care about your 'image'?" he barked, his voice vibrating with frustration. "I don't want a saint. I want a woman who’s as ambitious as I am! I don't give a damn about your 'fraud' talk! Don't you decide for me what I can handle again! You're mine, and if you’re a villain, then we’ll be villains together!"

ALEXIS NESS

Ness had always been the most romantic guy, bringing you flowers, writing you notes, and acting like a knight in shining armor since you were small.

Every time you turned him down, his heart shattered a little more. He decided that his magic just wasn't enough for you. He thought you found him too needy, too theatrical, or simply not the 'serious' type of person you deserved.

He was waiting for you outside the training pitch with a single rose when he heard you talking to a friend in the corridor.

"Ness is my ideal," you were saying, your voice quiet and melodic. "There’s no one else in this world I would ever choose."

Ness froze, the flower drooping in his hand. "Then why do you always say no?" your friend asked.

"Because he sees me as his magic," you replied, your voice thick with sadness. "He’s so beautiful and so pure. If he saw the real me—the jealousy, the pettiness, the way I hold grudges—the magic would vanish. I’m a mess of insecurities and bad habits. If I let him in, he’ll realize he’s been worshiping a lie."

Ness stepped out of the shadows, his eyes wide and shimmering. He walked up to you and pressed the rose into your hand, his touch trembling.

"You think I worship a lie?" he whispered, his voice catching. "I worship you. The good, the bad, the jealousy, the pettiness—it’s all part of the masterpiece! I want the girl who gets jealous and petty, because it means she cares as much as I do. Please, don't keep me in the dark! I love you, and that’s the only truth that matters."

YOICHI ISAGI

Yoichi Isagi spent his entire childhood being the kid who walked you home, the one who shared his lunch, and the one who watched your back on the playground.

Yet, every time he tried to take that next step—a confession written in clumsy elementary school cursive, a hand held a moment too long in middle school—you backed away.

You were always polite, always distant, always too busy. Yoichi grew up believing that while he was good enough to be your friend, he wasn't the one. He convinced himself he was too ordinary, too obsessed with his own dreams, and simply not the type of person you wanted.

It happened after a late-night study session at the library. Yoichi was heading back to return a forgotten book when he heard your voice echoing from behind the stacks. You were talking to your best friend, and your voice was uncharacteristically raw.

"Isagi is my entire world," you whispered, the sound vibrating through Yoichi’s chest. "He’s the only one who actually sees me. He’s the ideal version of everything I want in a partner."

Yoichi stopped, his breath catching.

"Then why are you pushing him away?" your friend asked.

"Because he’s too pure," you said, a sob breaking in your throat. "He thinks I’m this gentle, kind-hearted person, but he doesn't know the things I’ve done. He doesn't know how manipulative I can be when I’m desperate. I’d rather keep him at a distance than watch him realize I’m the bad person."

Isagi didn't think. He stepped out from behind the shelf, his face pale, his eyes wide. You froze, staring at him, the secret you’d kept for a decade laid bare. Yoichi walked forward, his stride decisive.

MEGURU BACHIRA

• You were the first person who didn't call his Monster weird. When he was five and talking to the air, you just nodded and offered him a plastic shovel. He’s been obsessed with you ever since

• He is a golden retriever, and you are a sleepy house cat. He’ll vibrate with energy, bouncing around you, and you’ll just blink slowly at him. He finds your lack of reaction hilarious and tries even harder to make you laugh

• You are the only person who can get Bachira to sit still. He’ll crawl into your lap and fall asleep instantly because your presence is so stabilizing

• During class, he’ll reach over and draw little smiley faces or monsters on your palms with a pen. You don't stop him, and he loves the way your skin feels under his touch—cool and calm

• He "translates" for you. Since you're so subdued, people often miss what you're thinking. Bachira will always jump in like: "No, no, she doesn't want the spicy one, she wants the blue one! I just know!"

• He’ll put one of his earbuds in your ear without asking. It’s usually something loud and chaotic, but he just wants you to feel the music with him. You’ll listen for a minute, then take it out, and he’ll just pout and hug you

• He knows you don't have a burning passion like he does, and he loves that about you. He wants you to be the person he comes back to when he’s tired of running

• You were always his accomplice when he was pranking someone, because nobody ever suspected the quiet kid. You’d stand lookout while he did something ridiculous, and you’d never tell on him

• His phone lockscreen is a picture of you sleeping in the back of a classroom. He looks at it whenever he feels lonely at Blue Lock

• He is hyper-aware of your mood. Even if you're expressionless, he can tell if your aura is a little grey that day. He’ll spend the whole afternoon trying to bring the good mood back to you

RIN ITOSHI

• You were the only kid who could handle his and Sae’s competitive energy without getting overwhelmed. You’d sit in the grass picking flowers while they tried to destroy everyone else. Rin found your lack of lukewarm ego fascinatingly refreshing

• You’ve been watching horror movies together since middle school. Neither of you screams. You just sit in the dark, shoulder-to-shoulder, in a comfortable, eerie silence that would unsettle anyone else

• Rin hates useless chatter and with you, he doesn't have to speak. You can tell if he’s had a bad day by the way he sits down next to you. You’ll just offer him a cool bottle of water, and he’ll lean his head on your shoulder for five seconds before pulling away

• People think you’re as scary as he is because you’re so quiet. Rin loves the quiet aura you both project. He feels like the two of you are a fortress that the rest of the world can't enter

• He has a specific voice tone for you. It’s not sweet—Rin doesn't do sweet—but it’s lower, a little warmer and less jagged. It’s the voice he uses when he’s telling you he’ll walk you home

• In school, you were his escape. He’d find you in the back of the library, and he’d just nap with his head on the table next to yours while you read. It was the only time his brain truly went quiet

• He buys you things that are useful but secretly sentimental. A warm scarf because you always look cold, a specific pen because he saw yours was running out. He’ll just drop it on your lap and walk away without a word

• He still remembers the time a kid from his soccer team made you cry. He didn't say anything to you at the time, but that kid "mysteriously" found all his soccer balls deflated the next day

• You're the only one who can pull him back when he's lost in his head. One quiet hand on his arm and everything clears. He needs your nothingness to balance his everything

JULIAN LOKI

• You grew up together in the same neighborhood in France. While he was being hailed as a once-in-a-generation talent, you were the one who still treated him like the kid who once got his head stuck in a fence

• Loki's favorite language is the silence he shares with you. In a life full of press conferences and high-speed matches, your quiet nature is a luxury he can't buy

• He loves that you don't care about his fame. Hanging out with you is just sitting by the river or in a quiet cafe, not saying a word. He feels like he can finally take off his prodigy mask and just be Julian

• You move at a snail’s pace. He finds it charming how you never rush, even if the train is coming. He’ll just grab your hand and walk at your pace, enjoying the slow down

• He has a very "refined" way of showing affection. He’ll notice you staring at a specific book or a piece of jewelry in a window, and it will show up at your door the next day with a simple note from him

• You spent your childhood walking through the streets of Paris. He’d talk about his dreams of the World Cup, and you’d just listen, occasionally nodding. He felt like you were the only one who wasn't trying to get something from his success

• He feels like people underestimate you because you're quiet, and he loves that he's the only one who knows how observant and smart you are, even if you don't have the ego to show it off

• Now that he’s wealthy, he wants to fly you everywhere. But he knows you hate a fuss, so he’ll arrange everything to be as quiet and low-key as possible, just the way you like it

• He realized hew important you are to him when he was in a stadium with 80,000 people screaming his name, and the only thing he wanted was to be sitting in your quiet garden, listening to the wind and holding your hand

YOICHI ISAGI

• You are the only person who knows his exact post-practice cravings without him saying a word. You’ll just slide a specific drink or snack onto his desk, and he’ll look at you like you’ve performed a miracle

• You don't talk much and Isagi, who usually over-analyzes everything, finds peace in that. He doesn't have to read you, he just has to be near you

• When Blue Lock gets too intense, he closes his eyes and thinks of your quiet living room. To him, you are home. You represent a world where he doesn't have to be a soccer monster to be loved

• Because you're so subdued, he’s terrified someone will take advantage of you. He’s the first to step in if someone is being too loud or pushy toward you

• He often finds the solution to a tactical problem while just sitting in silence with you. He’ll suddenly gasp, "That's it!" and you’ll just blink at him, totally unfazed, which he finds incredibly grounding

• After every big match, you are the first person he calls. He doesn't want to talk about goals, he just wants to hear you talk about something mundane, like the weather or a cat you saw

• He keeps a blurry photo of the two of you at a 5-year-old’s birthday party in his wallet. You’re looking bored with a party hat on, and he’s covered in cake. It reminds him of where he started

RIN ITOSHI

Rin’s room was exactly as you expected: meticulously organized, dimly lit, and smelling faintly of tea and cool air.

Despite his icy exterior, Rin was a nervous wreck internally. He had spent twenty minutes debating which shirt to give you, eventually settling on a plain black that he’d only worn a few times.

"Change into this," he muttered, thrusting the shirt at you without meeting your eyes. "Your clothes look uncomfortable for sleeping."

When you came back into the room, the oversized shirt hung off one of your shoulders, exposing a bit of collarbone.

Rin was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone, but the second you sat down, he went stiff. His eyes flickered over you, taking in the way his shirt draped over your frame.

"It’s big," you whispered, shifting closer to him.

"Hmph. Obviously," he snapped, though there was no heat in it. He reached out, his long fingers snagging the hem of the sleeve and rolling it up so your hand was visible. His touch was lingering, his thumb grazing your wrist. "It looks good on you. Don't get an ego about it."

As the lights went out, the silence of the room felt heavy. Rin wasn't a "cuddler" by reputation, but as soon as you settled under the blankets, he turned on his side and draped a heavy arm over your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of his own shirt mixed with your skin.

"Rin?" you murmured a little surprised.

"Go to sleep," he said softly, his grip tightening just a fraction.

He felt a fierce, protective surge in his chest. Seeing you in his clothes made him feel like he had finally anchored something beautiful in his chaotic, dark world. He didn't say "I love you," but as he drifted off, he kept his hand firmly over your heart, making sure it was the only thing you felt all night.

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

Kunigami’s room was warm and smelled of woodsy cologne. He treated the sleepover with the same gravity he treated a championship match—with total devotion and a hint of shyness.

He had laid out a fresh, oversized t-shirt, along with a pair of thick socks.

"Here," he said, his voice deep and steady. "It’s clean. I thought you might be cold."

When you walked out wearing the shirt, the hem hit just above your knees. Kunigami felt a lump in his throat. He had always viewed himself as a protector, but seeing you wrapped in his clothes made him feel a vulnerability he wasn't prepared for.

"You look... cute, Y/N," he said, a genuine, bashful smile breaking across his face.

"It's so soft, Rensuke. It smells just like you."

He let out a breath, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his lap. He started to play with your hair, his expression soft. "I like seeing you in my stuff. It makes me feel like you're really mine. Like the world can't get to you while you're wearing it."

He spent the night holding you. You were tucked into his side, your head on his warm chest, listening to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heart. Every time you shifted, he’d stir, pressing a kiss to your temple and pulling the duvet higher.

For Kunigami, this wasn't just a sleepover, it was a sanctuary. He finally felt like the hero he wanted to be, simply because he was the one providing you with a place to rest.

SHOEI BAROU

Barou’s room was a masterpiece of cleanliness. Everything was in its place, the air was perfectly humidified, and the sheets were tucked with military precision.

He had been grumpy all evening about the "disruption" to his routine, but when it came time to sleep, his true colors showed.

"Use this," he grunted, handing you a perfectly folded, athletic compression shirt and a pair of soft shorts. "I don't want you getting your 'outside' germs on my thread-count."

When you emerged, the compression shirt clung to you in a way that made Barou’s eyes widen. It was meant to be tight on him, but on you, it was loose enough to be comfortable. He cleared his throat, suddenly finding his polished floor very interesting.

"Barou? Is the bed okay for me to sit on?" you teased, knowing his obsession with order.

"Tch. Just sit down already," he muttered.

But as you sat, he didn't move away. Instead, he grabbed a comb and started gently working through your hair. It was one of his ways of "organizing" you into his life. He was meticulous, his movements surprisingly gentle for a man of his size.

When the lights went out, he dropped his guard. He pulled you into the center of the bed and wrapped his limbs around you like a human cage. He tucked your head under his chin, his scent—expensive soap and a hint of musk—surrounding you.

"Don't move," he grunted into the dark. "My shirt suits you. It’s high-quality, just like me."

You could hear the smirk in his voice, but you could also feel the way his heart was racing against your back. He wasn't used to sharing his space, but as he felt you relax into him, he realized he didn't want it any other way.

"You’re staying here," he whispered, a final decree. "I'm not letting anyone else have this view."

YOICHI ISAGI

The rain was drumming a steady, rhythmic beat against the window of Isagi’s room, creating a cozy cocoon. This was your first official sleepover, and the air was thick with a nervous, sugary sweetness.

Isagi had spent the last hour fussing over the perfect movie setup, fluffing pillows with a level of focus he usually reserved for analyzing a goal.

"I, uh, didn't know if you brought pajamas," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood by his dresser. He looked a little flushed, his blue eyes darting toward you and then back to the drawer. He pulled out a worn, blue hoodie—the one he usually wore for late-night film sessions—and a pair of grey joggers. "They’ll probably be big on you, but they’re soft."

When you emerged from the bathroom, Isagi actually stopped breathing for a second. The hoodie swallowed you whole. The sleeves hung past your fingertips, and the hem reached mid-thigh. You smelled like him—laundry detergent and a hint of that crisp, citrusy soap he used.

"Isagi? Do I look that ridiculous?" you teased, tugging at the oversized collar.

"No!" he blurted out, his face turning a vivid shade of crimson. "No, you look... incredible. It’s just... seeing you in my clothes is a lot for my heart, Y/N."

He cleared his throat and patted the spot next to him on the bed. As you crawled under the duvet, the sheer domesticity of the moment hit him.

He wasn't the soccer player right now. He was just a boy who wanted to be close to you. He tentatively reached out, pulling you into his side. The fabric of his hoodie felt different now that you were wearing it—warmer and softer. He rested his chin on the top of your head, his heart hammering a frantic "thump-thump" against your ear.

"You can keep it," he whispered, his voice dropping into a tender, private register. "The hoodie I mean. I want you to take it home. That way, when I'm at training, I can imagine you're still wearing it."

MEGURU BACHIRA

• Bachira sees it as a way to find your inner Monster. He loves how you lose yourself in the music

• He’ll try to incorporate ballet moves into his dribbling. He thinks some of the moves could be the key to a perfect feint. He’ll ask you to teach him the footwork

• Stretching sessions are never boring with him. He’ll try to match your flexibility (and fail), or he’ll use you as a human barre while he does his own soccer stretches

• Bachira is your biggest fan. He’ll bring a giant bouquet to every show. He’ll also yell "LET'S GO Y/N!" from the audience, much to the horror of the more "refined" patrons

• He’s always poking your abs. "Whoa! Your tummy is like a rock! Is this from those slow leg lifts?" He’s genuinely in awe of your strength

• He’ll steal your leg warmers because they’re cozy, but he also buys you the highest-quality professional gear because he wants your body to be protected

• If you have a bad rehearsal, he’ll do a silly dance to make you laugh, reminding you that even the most disciplined athlete needs to rest sometimes

RIN ITOSHI

• Rin sees the way you push your body to the absolute limit for the sake of a perfect performance and respects the energy you bring to the stage

• He loves that you take it as seriously as he takes soccer. If you have a 5:00 AM practice session, he’s up with you, doing his own drills in silence. You don't need to explain why you can't go out, he gets the grind

• He'll go to your performances and sit in the front row, arms crossed, looking intense. People think he’s bored, but he’s actually captivated by your technical precision

• If he sees people wearing ballet flats just for the look, he’ll scoff. "They wouldn't last ten seconds in a real rehearsal. They’re lukewarm"

• Rin is very tactile. He likes feeling the muscles in your back and legs. He’s genuinely impressed by how hard your muscles are despite your slender frame

• He treats you like a pro-athlete because to him you are one. He’ll never tell you, but seeing you dance inspires him to be more graceful and precise on the pitch. You are his ideal of physical perfection

SEISHIRO NAGI

• Nagi finds most things a hassle, so when he sees you practicing for seven hours straight, he is genuinely stunned. "You move so much... it’s amazing you don't just collapse"

• Since you’re always exhausted from rehearsals and he’s always lazy, you two are the perfect nap partners. He’ll let you use his legs as a footrest to elevate your tired feet

• He’ll watch you jump and be confused by the physics. "How do you stay in the air so long? Are you cheating?" He tries to mimic you on the soccer field

• To Nagi, if it’s hard and you’re good at it, it’s pro level. He’ll defend you by simply saying, "She’s a genius. You just don't understand her genius"

• If you’re practicing at home, he’ll let you use his arm as a barre while he stands perfectly still. He’s like a solid, unmoving pillar for you

• The first time he tried to lift you and realized how much active weight and muscle you had, he was impressed. "You're like a little iron statue... woooow"

• He'll play his games with the sound off while you play your rehearsal music. It’s a quiet, harmonious coexistence of two different types of geniuses

REO MIKAGE

• Reo will buy you the best custom-fitted pointe shoes, hire the best sports massage therapists, and ensure you have access to the best facilities

• Because Reo is an all-rounder, he knows how hard it is to be perfect at everything. He sees the athleticism behind the artistry. He’ll defend the sport of ballet to everyone

• He’ll talk to you about your muscle groups with actual medical terminology. "Your lateral rotation is improving, I noticed it in yesterday"

• If you ever need it Reo will rent out a stage just so you can practice in peace without distractions. He wants you to have everything you deserve

• He loves showing you off, but not as a pretty trophy. He brags about your stamina and your pain tolerance to his Blue Lock teammates, parents, other family members and even random people at school

YOICHI ISAGI

• Isagi sees ballet as a masterclass in body control. He is fascinated by your center of gravity. He’ll watch you do a pirouette and mentally map out how your core, head, and feet all coordinate

• If he ever hears someone make a joke about ballet being easy, Isagi shuts it down immediately. "Do you even know the sheer leg strength required to stay on point? Her calves are more developed than yours, shut up"

• He loves watching you practice. He’ll give you feedback that sounds like soccer coaching: "Your spatial awareness during that move was incredible!!"

• He'll sit on the floor with you while you stretch. He’s impressed by your flexibility, but more so by the grit in your eyes when you’re pushing through a difficult sequence

MEGURU BACHIRA

Bachira is the reason you can't focus in class. He is a constant whirlwind of energy, whispering jokes, drawing little monsters on the corners of your handouts, and making silly faces at you whenever the teacher turns their back.

He is completely, shamelessly in love with the fact that he gets to sit next to you.

He’s the type to pass you folded-up notes that contain nothing but a drawing of a bee with your name on it.

He’ll "accidentally" drop his eraser ten times just so he can lean down and whisper something funny to you while he’s picking it up. He wants to be your best friend and your boyfriend all at once.

"Look! I made a paper crane! It’s for you!" he’ll beam, handing you a crumpled piece of paper that looks more like a ball.

He is very tactile. He’ll play with the charms on your bag, try to compare hand sizes, or use your desk as a drum kit. His Monster is always telling him to make you laugh, and he takes that mission very seriously.

If you're having a bad day, he’ll notice instantly. He’ll sneak a piece of candy onto your lap or make a ridiculous face that forces a giggle out of you.

To Bachira, the classroom isn't for learning math—it’s a six-hour opportunity to win your heart, and he’s playing for the gold.

RIN ITOSHI

Rin’s desk is like a fortress of solitude, but the wall facing you is paper-thin. He spends 90% of the class trying to stare straight ahead at the chalkboard, looking like he’s contemplating the destruction of his enemies, but in reality, he is intensely aware of your presence.

He can hear the rhythm of your breathing, the scratching of your pen, and the way you shift in your seat.

He is manifesting with terrifying intensity. He doesn't have the will or social courage to strike up a conversation out of nowhere, so he stares at the side of your head with a look so piercing it’s a miracle your hair doesn't catch fire.

He is internally commanding you to look at him. "Turn around. Ask me for the time. Complain about the homework. Just acknowledge my existence, you lukewarm distraction."

If you actually do turn to him, his brain glitches. His defense mechanism is to act like he doesn't care, so he’ll give you a sharp "What?" even though his heart is doing backflips.

If you ask to borrow a pencil, he’ll hand it over without looking at you, his fingers trembling slightly as they graze yours.

He is the most devoted person in the room, hidden behind a mask of total indifference.

TABITO KARASU

Karasu is usually the smoothest talker you've ever seen. He knows how to read people, find their "weak points," and charm them into doing whatever he wants.

But put him in a desk next to his crush, and he suddenly forgets how to use his tongue.

He starts the class with a plan. He’s going to make you laugh, and secure a lunch date. But then you look at him and say, "Morning, Tabito," and he completely short-circuits. "Morning, Person—I mean, Y/N. The weather is sky. I mean the sky is weather today." You end up laughing and making him even more flustered.

He’ll then spend the next forty minutes staring at his textbook, wanting to bang his head against the desk for being so uncoordinated.

He tries to regain his cool, but it comes out as awkward and cute. He’ll look at your notes and say, "Your handwriting is a weak point, isn't it?" just to get you to talk to him, but then he’ll immediately panic that he offended you and spend ten minutes trying to analyze why your handwriting is actually "conceptually interesting."

He’s a mess of over-analysis and genuine adoration. He’ll find excuses to lean into your space, pretending to look at a diagram, just to be near you.

When he finally manages a smooth comment, he’s so proud of himself he practically glows for the rest of the day.

SEISHIRO NAGI

Nagi’s classroom existence is 100% focused on two things: sleeping and you. Usually, he’d find school to be a massive hassle, but since he got seated next to you, he’s actually started showing up on time.

His ideal "date" is just both of you putting your heads down on your desks and napping in the afternoon sun.

He spends a lot of time resting his head on his arms, facing your direction. He’ll watch you take notes with a sleepy, half-lidded gaze, mesmerized by the way you focus.

He thinks you're the most interesting thing in the room. Sometimes, he’ll reach out a lazy hand and gently poke your arm or tug on your sleeve. "Hey... Y/N... I’m bored. Talk to me."

He doesn't want to talk about the lesson, he wants to know what games you like or if you’ll share your snacks with him.

If you let him rest his head on your shoulder for a second, he is officially yours for life. He doesn't need grand gestures or fancy words, he just wants to exist in the same quiet bubble as you.

He’ll even try to stay awake if he sees you’re struggling with a problem, offering a genius-level shortcut in three words before falling back asleep. "It’s 42. Don't work so hard, it’s a hassle."

YOICHI ISAGI

Isagi doesn't just sit next to you. He operates as your personal secondary locker. He is the king of "anticipatory service." He has spent so much time observing you that he knows your habits better than you do.

He knows that on Tuesdays you always forget your pencil, and on Fridays, you usually run out of loose-leaf paper.

His backpack is a treasure trove of "just in case" items. If you so much as let out a tiny sigh of frustration while digging through your bag, Isagi is already leaning over, a brand-new eraser or a pen held out with a shy, hopeful smile.

"Oh, I had an extra one," he’ll say, despite the fact that he actually went to the stationary store specifically to buy the brand you prefer.

During lectures, he’s a nervous wreck. He tries to look like a model student, but his notes are a mess because half of his brain is tracking the way you occasionally smile at something outside the window.

If the teacher asks a question you don't know the answer to, he’ll frantically scribble the answer in the margin of his notebook and slide it toward the edge of his desk so you can "accidentally" see it.

When the bell rings, he lingers, slowly packing his bag just to see if you’ll walk to the next class with him. If you thank him for the pen, he’ll think about it for the next three days, replaying the "thank you" in his head like a world-class goal.

ALEXIS NESS

Ness is the most diligent student in the room, but only because he thinks being a perfect student will make him look impressive to you.

He is the person who has color-coded highlighters, perfectly organized folders, and a pristine uniform. He wants to be your ideal in a purely academic sense.

If you miss a day of school, Ness is already at your door (or in your DMs) with the most comprehensive set of notes you’ve ever seen. He doesn't just write the lecture. He adds "helpful commentary" and little diagrams to make sure you understand.

He’s incredibly polite, always offering to carry your heavy textbooks or walk you to the library.

"I wouldn't want you to strain yourself, Y/N!" he’ll say with a bright, slightly frantic smile.

He is very sensitive to your opinion of him. If you compliment his notes, he’ll practically vibrate with joy for the rest of the week. If you mention you like a certain subject, he’ll stay up all night researching it just so he can talk to you about it the next day.

He has a bit of a "magician" streak, too—he’ll "vanish" your stress by bringing you your favorite drink or surprising you with a tiny origami heart tucked into your textbook.

MEGURU BACHIRA

Bachira has always been your little Monster. Since the sandbox days, he’s been the chaotic energy in your life, the one who pulled you into puddles and shared his snacks.

But every time he tried to make it official—every time he asked if you’d be his Monster too—you’d laugh it off or tell him you were better off as normal person to him.

He figured he was too weird, too much for someone as grounded and kind as you.

Today he was hiding in the lockers at the training facility, planning to jump out and scare you, when he heard you talking to Isagi.

"Bachira is my soulmate," you said, and the words made Meguru's heart stop. "He’s the only one who sees the world in color. I want to be with him more than I want to breathe. He is my absolute ideal."

Bachira felt like he was floating. But then your voice dropped. "But Meguru is pure. He’s all heart. But I don't think he still likes me like that... I rejected him so many times..."

Meguru didn't jump out to scare you. He walked out slowly, his golden eyes wide and shimmering with a liquid intensity. He didn't look like a playful kid anymore, he looked like a man who had finally found the missing piece of his soul.

He walked straight into your space, ignoring Isagi entirely, and cupped your face in his hands.

"You’re a dummy," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. "Did you really think my Monster would give up on you? I’ve been waiting for you to finally see me like this."

He let out a soft, shaky giggle, his thumbs brushing away the tears forming in your eyes. "I'll always want you. I’ve loved you since we were little, and I’m not letting anything stop me from winning you!!"

RYUSEI SHIDOU

Shidou is a firework—all heat, violence, and passion.

He’s spent his life being told he’s too much, and when you constantly rejected his wild, aggressive advances since kindergarten, he just assumed you wanted someone tame. Someone normal. He thought you looked at him and saw a disaster you didn't want to touch.

That one day he was walking through the hallway when he heard you talking with a friend. He was ready to come in and tease you, but then he heard his name.

"Shidou is the only one who makes me feel alive," you said, staring at your hands. "He’s all that raw, beautiful energy. He’s my ideal. I love that kind of intensity."

Shidou’s eyes widened. He stopped moving, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"But I’m a coward," you whispered. "He’s so honest about his feelings and his desires. I hide mine. I feel like I’m manipulative towards him. If Ryusei saw the real me, he’d realize he deserves someone who is actually as straightforward and honest as he is."

Shidou didn't need to hear more. He came around the corner and stopped in front of you with a grin that was more demon than human. He looked thrilled. He grabbed the front of your shirt, pulling you close until your noses touched, not caring about your friend at all.

"I'm your ideal?" he asked, his eyes glowing with an unhinged joy. "That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard! Did you think I'd ever stop loving you? No way! I want you and only you!"

He let out a loud laugh, pulling you into a crushing hug. "I’ve been waiting for you to stop acting, Y/N! FINALLY! I’ve loved you since we were five, and I’m not letting you go just because you’ve got some teeth! I'LL BE WITH YOU FOREVER!"

TSURUGI ZANTETSU

Zantetsu has always tried to be intelligent for you. Since kindergarten, when he first saw you sitting quietly with a book trying to read, he decided that a girl as refined as you could only love a man of high intellect.

He spent years wearing non-prescription glasses, using big words incorrectly, and trying to act like a stoic philosopher, all while you gently turned down his invitations to study or get coffee.

He’d accepted it: he was just a simple speedster, and you were a high-class mystery he couldn't solve.

Today he was looking for his misplaced glasses in the library’s quiet study nook when he heard your voice. You were talking to a friend, your tone uncharacteristically shaky.

"Zantetsu?" you whispered in response to a question. "He’s exactly my type. He’s earnest, he’s cute, and when he tries so hard to look smart just to impress people... it’s the most endearing thing in the world. I’ve loved him since we were five."

Zantetsu froze, his hand trembling on a bookshelf. Endearing? Exactly her type? "Then why do you keep rejecting him?" your friend asked.

"Because he’s just so... ugh," you said, your voice cracking. "He’s pure. He’s honest. If he actually dated me, he’d realize I’m not this perfect, quiet girl he thinks I am. I’m selfish, and I have a temper that would shock him. I’d rather have him think I don't like him than have him look at me with disappointment once the mask slips."

Zantetsu didn't wait. He didn't care about being intellectual anymore. He rounded the corner, his glasses slightly crooked on his face, his "explosive start" bringing him right in front of you in a blur. His usual stoic mask was gone, replaced by a raw, burning sincerity.

"You think I’m that shallow?" he asked, his voice low and vibrating with emotion. "I don't care about a perfect girl. I’ve spent fifteen years trying to be smart because I thought I wasn't good enough for you. If you’re 'not a perfect person,' then we’re a perfect match, because I’m just a fool who can't even use a dictionary properly."

He grabbed your hands, his grip firm. "Don't reject me to protect me. Let me see the version of you under the calmness. I promise, my heart is too simple to do anything but love all of you."

JULIAN LOKI

Loki is a prodigy. He’s used to being the best, the fastest, and the most composed. But with you, he always felt like he was losing.

Since you were little kids, he’d been your shadow, offering you the world on a silver platter, only to be met with a polite "no, thank you." He assumed he was too polished for you, too professional, and that you wanted someone different.

He was walking past the breakroom at the international training camp when he heard your voice through the cracked door.

"Julian is the only man I’ve ever truly wanted," you told your sister. "He’s brilliant, he’s kind, and he’s so incredibly handsome. He’s everything I ever dreamed of."

Loki leaned against the wall, his breath catching. You wanted him?

"But he’s a star," you continued, a sob catching in your throat. "He has this image to maintain. He’s so noble. If he found out how messy I am—how much I struggle with simple stuff sometimes, he’d realize I’m not the person he thinks I am. I’m just a girl with a lot of flaws, and I can't bear the thought of him looking at me with pity."

Loki pushed the door open. He didn't look like the world-class striker in that moment, he looked like the boy who used to chase you through the parks of Paris. He walked over to you, his expression one of profound, heartbreaking warmth.

"I don't feel like a star when I am with you," he said in his smooth, melodic voice. "I am just Julian. And I've been in love with you for a lifetime."

He took your hand, kissing your knuckles with a reverence that made your knees weak. "You think I am noble? I am a striker. I am selfish and greedy by nature. If you think you are not good, then let us be imperfect together. I don't want perfection. I want a partner who knows what it’s like to struggle and be human. Please, don't keep me at a distance because you are afraid of your own humanity. I love you."

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

Kunigami is the Hero.

Since kindergarten, he’s protected you, walked you home, and offered you his heart with a sincere smile, only to be told "we can't." He’d spent years thinking he wasn't cool enough, or that his Hero persona was too corny for a girl like you.

Today he was coming back from a late-night gym session when he saw you sitting in the darkened common room, talking to Chigiri.

"Kunigami is my hero," you said, your voice thick with tears. "He’s the standard I hold every man to. He’s strong, he’s loyal... he’s my dream."

Kunigami stopped in the doorway, his gym bag slipping from his shoulder.

"But I’m not enough for a hero," you sobbed. "For example, I’ve lied and I’ve been petty to get what I want. If Rensuke knew the real me, his heart would break. He looks at me like I’m the best person alive, but I’m really not nice. I have to stay away from him so I don't taint him."

Kunigami didn't hesitate. He stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with a warm, steady light. He didn't look disappointed, he looked determined.

He walked over to you, ignoring Chigiri’s surprised look, and pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

"A Hero’s job isn't to judge," he whispered, his voice deep and comforting. "It’s to stay by the person they love, no matter what."

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression full of a fierce, protective devotion. "I don't need perfection. I need you. If you’ve made mistakes, let me help you carry them. If you think you're not nice, then I'll just have to love the not nice version of you too."

🐈KENMA KOZUME🐈

Kenma didn't like effort, but for you, he was willing to grind. He had spent months watching you during matches, hidden behind his bangs.

He liked that you were quiet but efficient, and that you never yelled at him for playing his switch during breaks—you just held out a protein bar and waited for him to take it.

When he heard you were transferring, his heartbeat actually spiked for reasons that had nothing to do with boss fights.

Kenma immediately wanted to make Nekoma feel like the most comfortable place for you to be. He knew that starting a new school was exhausting, so he focused on removing the noise for you.

He didn't say much, but he made sure he was always nearby, a familiar face that served as an anchor in the sea of new Nekoma students.

His manifestation was subtle. He began leaving the side door of the gym propped open during the late afternoons when he knew you’d be walking toward the station.

He didn't call out to you, he just waited for you to notice the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the floor—a sound he knew you were used to.

One afternoon, when you finally stepped inside to say hello, he didn't ask you to be the manager. He simply looked at you and said.

"The first years are messy," his voice was devoid of his usual boredom. "It’s probably as loud here as at your old school... but it’s less lonely if you’re here."

It was the most vulnerable Kenma had ever been with anyone. He didn't need a grand plan, he just needed you to know that in a school full of strangers, the gym was a place where you were already understood. He was willing to wait as long as it took for you to realize that you belonged with them.

🐈‍⬛TETSURŌ KUROO🐈‍⬛

Kuroo had it bad.

He was currently staring at a brick wall. Or, more accurately, he was staring at the space next to the brick wall where he’d just seen you, walking toward the cafeteria in a Nekoma uniform.

"Abstain from the internal screaming, Tetsuro," he muttered to himself, rubbing his face. "Be cool. Be a captain. Be... why is she here? Did Bokuto finally made her quit Fukurodani? Did she realize red is a superior color?"

He spent the next three days vibrating with a very specific kind of nervous energy. Currently he kept pacing back and forth while Kenma tried to change into his practice gear.

"Listen, Kenma... this is a tactical advantage falling into our laps. Y/N knows how to calm down an ace mid-collapse, she'll definitely deal with our team. If we don't get her into this gym, we are failing as a powerhouse school. It’s about the team."

"You just want her to look at your serves and block," Kenma deadpanned.

"That is a secondary, purely coincidental benefit!" Kuroo shouted, waving his arms. "But seriously. How do we do this without looking like we're begging? We have pride! Have you seen the state of our clipboards? They’re dusty! Dust, Kenma!"

From that day Kuroo was trying to be "casually" everywhere you were.

One day you bumped into him while rounding the corner. He smiled and asked how you like it in Nekoma.

You laughed, and Kuroo felt his brain short-circuit for a second. "It’s definitely quieter, Kuroo-san."

"We’re schoolmates now! Drop the formalities," he said, falling into step with you, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He looked at you sideways, his messy bedhead bouncing as he walked. "We really missed having you around since the last camp. If you ever... you know... get bored of having free time after school... our doors are basically off the hinges waiting for you."

He stopped at the corner of the hallway, looking uncharacteristically earnest. "I just think we’re a better team when you’re watching us.

He gave you a thumbs-up—a totally uncool, high-energy, dorky thumbs-up. "Think about it! I hope you'll come over to the practice!"

🐈YAKU MORISUKE🐈

Yaku’s crush was built on respect. He’d watched you handle the chaotic energy of the Fukurodani third-years and thought, "That person is so amazing."

He admired your discipline. When you arrived at Nekoma, Yaku was the one who actually got angry at the thought of you joining any other club.

He saw a group of guys from the Cooking Club (I don't know if stuff like that exist, but I had to come up with something) talking to you and nearly kicked a hole through a locker.

He didn't do subtle. He walked straight up to you on your second day and snatched your bag.

"This is too heavy. You're going to mess up your posture," he said, though his face was dusted with a light pink blush. He walked you to your class every single day, acting like a human shield against the idiots (mostly Lev) who might bother you.

When it came to the manager position, Yaku was relentless. He’d bring you printouts of the team’s defensive stats and ask for your expert opinion, knowing full well you were used to Fukurodani’s offensive-heavy playstyle.

"We need someone who actually understands it," he’d tell you, standing as tall as he possibly could. "First years are just bunch of little bastards. We need a manager who isn't afraid to yell."

He made it seem like the team's survival depended entirely on you. If you hesitated, he’d pull out the big guns: guilt. "You’re really going to leave us out here with no one to keep those kids in check? That’s cold, Y/N."

He hovered and he made sure everyone in the school knew that you were already their manager before you even signed the papers.

🐈‍⬛KAI NOBUYUKI🐈‍⬛

Kai was the calmest of the group. He had always found your presence at Fukurodani to be the most grounding part of the games or tournaments. He liked everything about you—even the way you folded the towels.

When he found out you were coming to Nekoma, he just smiled that serene, slightly terrifying smile of his.

Kai was the one who made sure your transition to a new school was flawless. He found out your schedule and made sure there was always a bento or a snack waiting for you if you missed lunch.

He didn't pressure you. Instead, he would strike up long, pleasant conversations about nothing in particular, making you feel like you’d been at Nekoma for years.

"It’s as noisy here as at Fukurodani, isn't it?" he’d say with a chuckle as you watched the team practice from the doorway. "But I think you'd find us very nice."

He would gently steer you toward the gym every afternoon, never forcing, but always suggesting. He was the one who eventually sat you down with a cup of tea and told you, "The boys are trying very hard to impress you. They're doing a poor job of being subtle, but it's because they truly value you. I do, too."

Kai’s sincerity was the ultimate trap. While you could say no to Lev's dramatics or Yaku’s yelling, it was impossible to say no to Kai’s gentle, steady gaze.

🐈TAKETORA YAMAMOTO🐈

To Yamamoto, you weren’t just a manager. You were a Goddess of Victory who had been tragically misplaced at Fukurodani.

He had spent weeks weepily admiring your work ethic from afar, often getting scolded by Yaku or Kuroo for staring at you instead of the ball.

When he heard you were transferring to Nekoma, he practically underwent a spiritual awakening. He didn’t just want you to be the manager, he believed it was your destiny.

His recruitment method was Overwhelming Enthusiasm. Yamamoto didn't believe in subtlety. On your first day, he formed a one-man welcoming committee at the school gates, sporting a headband that said "NEKOMA GODDESS!!"

He followed you (at a respectful, yet loud, five-foot distance) to every single one of your classes, loudly proclaiming to anyone who would listen that "A legendary beauty has graced these halls!"

He made it his personal mission to make sure no other club even got a chance to speak to you. When the Drama Club tried to hand you a flyer, Yamamoto appeared like a guardian deity, his face contorted in a terrifying scowl that sent the theater kids running.

"She is destined for the volleyball court!" he bellowed.

Yamamoto’s manifestation technique involved a lot of shouting and manual labor. He spent his lunch breaks cleaning the gym floor until it was literally reflective, hoping the "shimmer of a well-maintained facility" would lure you in like a moth to a flame.

He’d corner you in the hallway, eyes welling with manly tears, and deliver impassioned speeches about "The Soul of the Cat" and how the team’s morale was at an all-time low because they lacked your divine guidance.

He would describe the team’s plight in such tragic, exaggerated terms—claiming they were basically "starving cats in the rain"—that you started to feel like a criminal for even considering any other Club.

He was loud, he was dramatic, and he was 100% devoted to the idea that Nekoma’s success started and ended with you holding their clipboard.

🐈‍⬛SHŌHEI FUKUNAGA🐈‍⬛

Fukunaga’s crush was always the quietest, but perhaps the deepest. He liked the way you never looked confused by his weird jokes or his sudden urges to pour water on his own head.

At Fukurodani, you were the only one who would laugh at his puns without a three-second delay.

When news reached him that you were now a Nekoma student, Fukunaga didn't say a word. He simply nodded once, a glint of determination in his eyes.

Fukunaga didn't talk to you directly about the manager position. Instead, he started a campaign of "accidental" encounters that felt like scenes from a movie.

You’d open your locker, and a single, perfectly folded Nekoma jersey would fall out.

You’d sit down for lunch, and Fukunaga would be sitting at the next table, silently eating a bowl of rice and smiling at you.

He’d walk past you in the hall and "accidentally" drop a volleyball team flyer that fell directly in front of you.

By the end of the week, you felt like the universe itself was telling you to go to the gym. Whenever you saw him, he’d just give you a tiny, mysterious thumbs-up.

He didn't need to plead, he just made his presence so constant and surreal that joining the team felt like the only way to restore balance to your reality.

🐈YŪKI SHIBAYAMA🐈

Shibayama was the most wholesome of the entire team. He had always been intimidated by the Fukurodani giants, but you had always been kind to him during the summer camps, making sure he got extra energy drinks when the heat got too bad. He had a massive crush on your competence.

When you transferred, Shibayama felt a surge of protectiveness. He knew how loud some of his teammates were, and he didn't want them to scare you off.

Shibayama became your unofficial Guide to Nekoma. He’d find you during breaks and offer to show you where the best stationery shop was or explain which teachers were the strictest.

He was helpful, sweet, and completely non-threatening. But every single conversation, no matter how it started, eventually circled back to the volleyball team.

"Oh, you like this brand of pen? Our coach uses those for the stat sheets... we really miss having someone else who'd keep such good notes though," he’d say with a wistful, heartbreaking sigh.

He would tell you stories about how the team was struggling to stay organized and how much he personally looked up to your management style. He made you feel like you weren't just a manager, but a source of confidence he definitely needed.

"I just feel so much more confident on the court when someone like you is watching the sidelines," he’d admit, his face turning bright red.

You couldn't say no to him because it felt like you were kicking a kitten. He was so endearing that you felt a personal responsibility to make sure they succeeded.

🐈‍⬛LEV HAIBA🐈‍⬛

Lev’s crush was as loud as he was. To him, you were the Cool Manager who could actually catch the balls he accidentally spiked out of bounds. He thought you were the coolest person on earth.

When he found out you were at Nekoma, he practically vibrated out of his skin. He didn't understand subtlety—he only understood BIG ACTION.

His strategy was pure physical persistence. Lev didn't care about anything. He would literally stand in the middle of the hallway, waving his long arms like a windmill, shouting your name the second he saw you. "MANAGER-SAN Y/N-SAN! YOU’RE HERE! YOU’RE FINALLY A CAT!"

He’d scoop you up in a literal bear hug (before Yaku kicked his shins to make him put you down) and start dragging you toward the gym by your backpack straps.

Lev didn't ask you to join the team. He simply told everyone—teachers, students, the principal, that you were the new manager.

Sometimes he’d show up at your classroom and just stare at you like a giant, hopeful bird until you noticed him. He’d bring you gifts that made no sense, like a single glove or a bag of salt-flavored candy he thought you’d like.

"I told the coach you’re coming today!" he’d chirp, ignoring the fact that you hadn't agreed yet. "I even bought you a special whistle! It’s shaped like a cat! Cheer for me and I’ll jump higher, I promise!"

He was a whirlwind of chaos, and his sheer, unadulterated joy at seeing you was so infectious that it was hard to stay mad at his pushiness. He just willed you into the gym through the sheer force of his excitement.

🐈SŌ INUOKA🐈

Inuoka’s crush was built on shared energy. He loved how you were always the first one to cheer when Fukurodani scored, and he’d spent many practice matches trying to catch your eye after a big block. He saw you as a fellow athlete of the spirit.

When you arrived at Nekoma, Inuoka was the one who decided you needed a "warm welcome" that you couldn't possibly refuse.

Inuoka was like a ray of sunshine that followed you around. Every time you did something—literally anything—he was there to give you a high-five or a "Nice job!"

If you turned in a paper, he was there with a "Whoa, you’re so smart!"

If you tripped, he was there to catch you with a "Great save!"

He made you feel like a superstar. He didn't want to trick you into joining. He wanted you to want to be there because the vibes were so good.

Inuoka was the one who coordinated the others, telling Lev when to show up and reminding Yamamoto not to be too scary. He’d approach you with a big, honest smile and say, "The gym feels kind of empty without your voice, Y/N. We've got the talent, but we're missing our heart."

He would talk about how much the rivalry with Fukurodani meant to them and how having you would be like bringing a piece of the sun to their team.

He was so genuine and so happy to have you around that the idea of not being their manager felt like turning off a lightbulb in a dark room.

TŌRU OIKAWA

Crushing On Fukurōdani Manager

KOZUME KENMA

KŌSHI SUGAWARA

NEKOMA

FUKURŌDANI

ITACHIYAMA

SHIRATORIZAWA

INARIZAKI

KAMOMEDAI

AOBA JOHSAI

KARASUNO

DATEKO

👑OIKAWA TŌRU👑

Oikawa is used to being the one putting on a persona, so finding out you have a different side to you actually makes him feel incredibly special—once he gets over the initial spook.

• At first he genuinely thought you were just a shy, delicate flower who needed him to be your social shield. He bragged to Iwaizumi about how soft and precious you are

• He tried to surprise you by sneaking up behind you at a convenience store. Before he could even say "Yahoo!", you told him with a tone that could freeze the sun to "back the hell off"

• He literally squeaked. His soul almost left his body. The second you realized it was him and your face melted back into a sweet smile, he spent five minutes clutching his chest

• After that he starts observing you more closely. He notices that when fans or strangers approach while he’s getting water, you don't look shy—you look annoyed

• Once the shock wears off, he finds it incredibly hot. He loves that you have that level of intimidation hidden under that sweetheart exterior

• He stops worrying about people bothering you when he's not around. He realizes you aren't trapped in the room with them—they’re trapped in the room with you

• He starts making jokes about your scary face. If someone is being annoying, he’ll lean in and whisper, "Do the thing, Y/N-chan! Scare them away!"

• He treasures your sweetness ten times more now. When you’re cuddly and soft with him, he knows it’s a manual choice you’re making because you love him, not just your default setting

• He’s low-key jealous of your friends at first because they’ve known about your mean side forever, but he quickly integrates himself into the trusted circle

• If someone calls you rude or cold, Oikawa will defend you, but internally he’s thinking they just weren't worth your energy

• He loves being the person you choose to be kind to. It feeds his ego in the best way possible

🐦‍⬛SUGAWARA KŌSHI🐦‍⬛

Suga is observant, so he might have suspected you had some bite, but seeing it in full force is a total "That's my partner!" moment for him.

• At first he thought you were just quiet and polite. He loved how peaceful you were compared to the chaotic energy of the Karasuno members

• He saw you in the hallway being cornered by a pushy classmate. He started to rush over to help you, only to stop dead in his tracks when he heard you dismantle the guy's entire argument with three cold, surgical sentences. Your eyes were completely dead. No spark, no warmth—just "Get out of my way." Suga found it terrifyingly impressive

• When you saw him, you immediately brightened up, running over to hold his hand and asking if he wanted to get meat buns. The whiplash almost gave him internal bleeding

• He doesn't try to fix your attitude. He actually finds it hilarious. He’ll stand in the background with a mischievous smirk while you’re being blunt with someone

• The Karasuno team is terrified of you now. Tanaka and Nishinoya once saw you glare a stranger into another dimension, and they now treat you with the utmost respect

• He loves that your sweetheart mode is a sanctuary. When you’re venting to him about how stupid people are, he just pets your hair and laughs

• He appreciates that you don't fake being nice to people you don't like. He finds your honesty refreshing in a world of social niceties

• He stops sneaking up on you, though. He learned his lesson after you almost took his head off with a textbook because he startled you

• He’s incredibly proud. He knows you’re a sweetheart where it counts, and anyone who doesn't see it simply hasn't earned it

🐈KOZUME KENMA🐈

Kenma is the least surprised, but the most appreciative. He’s an introvert himself, so seeing you be mean to the world is basically his love language.

• He knew you were an introvert, but he thought you were the anxious/quiet type like him

• He was gaming next to you when someone tried to strike up a loud, unwanted conversation with you. He watched out of the corner of his eye as you shut them down with a single, devastatingly cold look and a "I'm busy. Leave."

• He didn't say anything, but his character in the game stopped moving for a second. He was thinking, “Whoa, teach me”

• He feels so much more relaxed knowing you aren't forcing yourself to be "on" for people. He hates social performance, so he respects your refusal to do it

• He loves that you both can sit in a corner at a party, both looking like you'd rather be anywhere else, but holding hands under the table

• He likes watching you with your friends. Seeing you laugh and be animated with them—and then instantly go stone faced when a stranger walks by—is fascinating to him

• You don't even have to speak. You can just look at each other across a room, see someone annoying approaching, and both give the "don't even think about it" aura

• Since he’s so used to your resting glare face, when you give him that soft smile, it hits him right in the heart. He loves that your kindness is exclusive