#background noise

Yes, *this* man is a man in love.

And he is in love with this crazy passionate Red Rascal who smears ox blood on herself to prepare for battle and ward off evil spirits.

So when red shows up around him, if it was anyone else, I would think it's because he is extremely upset and experiencing rage, but because he can't stop thinking of that crazy Red Rascal who turned him down, I know it's because he is in love.

The red just seems to follow him almost like he can't escape it.

But then again, he doesn't really want to.

Because even though Cha Se Gye can't remember his previous life, he was blinded my Shin Seo-Ri's dazzling light even in the past.

So for a man who only knows darkness and comes across as a storm cloud most of the time, it must be refreshing to meet a woman who would rather live on the rooftop in the open air.

Cha Se Gye exists in dark spaces handing out punishments to those who have wronged him.

He hides behind a mask to scare others away.

Which is exactly what he had to do in his previous life.

But now he has met a woman who pushes him to step into the light, so she can clearly see his true nature.

Which is why I had a tiny theory that these two are softening each other's hard exteriors and returning to their true colors.

I think Shin Seo-Ri is actually a kind and caring Pink Person.

Yes, *this* woman is a kind and caring woman.

Which is probably why she got the dog she loved from her previous life back in her present life in the form of her menace of a neighbor.

Yes *this* man was a dog. Literally.

And Shin Seo-Ri took care of him before an evil man came along and ruined everyone's day and lunch by being evil because Shin Seo-Ri, in spite of everything that has happened to her, wants to help others like the old man who needed help looking for his grandson.

And this is why I think Shin Seo-Ri's color is lightening up since she is constantly helping Cha Se Gye without realizing it. It's also why I think her cell phone went from red (below) to pink (above).

And maybe that's why Shin Seo-Ri's coffee truck was pink because, although it wasn't her who paid for it, she was still providing something to the hardworking cast and crew.

The pink even occurred when Shin Seo-Ri mixed the wines together in an effort to unite the East x West.

So it should have been odd that she kept ending up in blue in episode six.

Until I remembered that Cha Se Gye was once a loyal and intelligent Blue Boy.

So even if in the current life he hasn't completely shed his black, he has traded in his black car for a blue 2026 Maserati MCPURA.

And just like Cha Se Gye who couldn't seem to escape the red, Shin Seo-Ri can't seem to shake the blue.

Or the past.

In their current life, Cha Se Gye gave Shin Seo-Ri two dozen red roses, but in the past, he simply gave her one red peony because it stood out, just like she does.

And just like the past, Cha Se Gye can't help but stop and admire the beauty.

Because he is a man in love.

With the woman who brings light to his life.

You learned how to be quiet without realizing it.

Not silent—just… smaller. Easier. The kind of presence that doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t demand, doesn’t take up space. You laugh when it’s appropriate, nod when people talk over you, listen more than you speak. You became good at it. Too good.

Which is probably why you’re sitting on the bleachers at Aoba Johsai, legs tucked under you, watching practice like you always do—like you’ve done for months—without anyone really seeing you there.

Oikawa’s voice cuts through the gym, loud and bright and commanding.

“Again! Faster this time—Matsukawa, stop slacking!”

The team groans. You smile despite yourself.

You’ve known Oikawa long enough to recognize the difference between his showy confidence and the real thing underneath. The pressure he puts on himself. The way he overcompensates with charm because being “the best” never feels secure enough.

You came today because he asked you to.

You coming to practice? I play better when you’re there 😉

You didn’t question it. You rarely do.

Practice goes on. Spikes, blocks, laughter, frustration. At some point, Iwaizumi glances up at the bleachers and raises an eyebrow.

“You know she’s been here the whole time, right?” he mutters to Oikawa.

Oikawa follows his gaze—and freezes.

You lift a hand in a small wave, already bracing yourself for him to forget you again. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But instead, something shifts in his expression.

The smile drops. Not entirely—but enough.

Practice ends shortly after. The boys scatter toward the locker room, sweaty and loud. You’re already gathering your bag when Oikawa jogs over, towel around his neck, eyes sharper than usual.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks.

You blink. “About…?”

“That you were here,” he says, like it should’ve been obvious. “You’ve been sitting there for an hour.”

You shrug. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”

That makes him frown.

You stand, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “You guys were busy. It’s fine.”

“No,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “It’s not.”

The words surprise both of you.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding through the polish. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t matter,” he snaps—then winces, softer. “Like you’re background noise.”

The phrase lands harder than it should.

You swallow. “I don’t—”

“You do,” he insists. “You show up. You listen. You support everyone. And then you disappear into the background like none of it deserves acknowledgment.”

Your chest tightens. “I’m just… used to it.”

Oikawa goes still.

“Used to what?”

You hesitate. This is the part you usually skip. Laugh off. Minimize.

“Being the one people talk around,” you say quietly. “Not to.”

The gym feels too big all of a sudden. Too echoey.

Oikawa steps closer. Not teasing. Not flashy. Just there.

“Hey,” he says, voice low. “Look at me.”

You do.

His eyes aren’t playful now. They’re serious. Focused in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You are not background noise to me,” he says firmly. “You never have been.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “You forgot I was here.”

He winces. “That’s not—”

“See?” you say, softer. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

That’s when he looks genuinely upset.

“I do,” he says.

You blink. “You… what?”

“I blame myself,” he admits. “For getting so caught up in my own crap that I didn’t notice you sitting there, supporting me like you always do.”

He exhales, shoulders dropping. “You deserve better than that.”

You don’t know what to say. No one’s ever said it like that—like it’s a fact, not a comfort.

“I don’t need special treatment,” you murmur.

Oikawa’s mouth quirks—not amused, but determined.

“I know. That’s part of the problem.”

He reaches out, hesitates, then gently hooks a finger under the strap of your bag, stopping you from stepping away.

“Do you know why I asked you to come today?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Because when things get loud,” he says, “you ground me. You don’t demand attention. You don’t compete. You just… see me.”

Your throat tightens.

“And somehow,” he continues, “I’ve been stupid enough to think that meant you didn’t need to be seen in return.”

Silence stretches between you.

Then you whisper, “Say something else.”

He blinks. “What?”

“Anything,” you say. “Just… don’t let this be a moment that disappears.”

Something in his expression softens. Real. Vulnerable.

“I like the way you sit cross-legged when you’re nervous,” he says quietly. “I like that you remember what drink I order.” “I like that you show up even when no one notices.”

His voice drops.

“And I like that you make me want to do better—not just as a player.”

Your heart pounds.

He steps closer again, close enough that you can smell sweat and soap and something unmistakably him.

“You’re not invisible,” Oikawa says. “Not to me. And if I ever make you feel like you are again…”

He trails off.

You meet his gaze. “Then what?”

“Then you call me out,” he says. “Loudly.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “You’d deserve it.”

He grins—this time softer, genuine. “Yeah. I probably would.”

The gym lights hum overhead. The world feels smaller. Warmer.

And for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like background noise.