#yamamoto

“You two better brace yourselves,” Yamamoto said, arms crossed, eyes shining with smug energy. “I’m about to ruin your entire worldview.”

Tanaka glanced over with a frown. “What’s your damage this time?”

“Is this about Nekoma’s libero?” Nishinoya asked. “Because I’ve already accepted he’s cracked. That’s fine.”

“No, no. It’s not that.” Yamamoto turned, gesturing across the gym. “It’s her.”

You stood at the sidelines, clipboard in hand, scribbling notes with a steady grace that didn’t belong in a noisy, chaotic gym. The sleeves of your red Nekoma jacket were zipped open just enough to show the thin chain of your bracelet glinting under the lights. Your hair swayed gently as you moved, long and effortlessly styled, catching the light in a way that made you look like you’d stepped straight out of a drama.

Tanaka blinked. “Who’s… that?”

“She’s our new manager,” Yamamoto said proudly. “Third year. In Kuroo’s class. He helped get her on the team, but really, she didn’t need the help. She walked in and everyone just listened. No yelling. No chaos. Just…” He gestured vaguely. “Senpai energy.”

You turned at that moment, making eye contact with the three of them briefly. Your eyes were calm, intelligent, and sharp in a way that cut straight through any idiocy. You gave them a soft, polite smile. Not flirty. Not too warm. Just enough to kill them a little.

Tanaka audibly swallowed. “She smiled.”

“She smiled at me,” Nishinoya hissed. “I was slightly more in her line of sight.”

“Are you kidding? She was looking past you.”

“She clearly respects me as a fellow short king.”

“Shut up, Yuu. She doesn’t even know you.”

“She will when I ask her what kind of pen she’s using. It’s called a natural conversation.”

“That’s your plan?”

Yamamoto looked like he was watching a nature documentary about self-destruction. “I warned you.”

“She’s got that cool beauty thing going on,” Tanaka muttered. “Like, lips perfectly lined without trying. You know what I mean?”

“And her hair—” Nishinoya started, breathless.

“Like it floats,” Tanaka finished.

“Like it has better conditioning than my entire soul,” Nishinoya agreed.

You walked past them then, your stride even and composed. There was a soft cherry tint to your lips that made their brains short-circuit. You didn’t say anything, just gave a slight nod as you passed, the edge of your ponytail brushing your shoulder.

Tanaka turned in slow motion. “I think I’m in love.”

“You already are in love—with Kiyoko-san!” Nishinoya barked.

“I can’t help it if I’m emotionally complex!”

“You traitor.”

“She’s just a different kind of angel!”

You didn’t say much as you joined Kiyoko and Yachi by the benches. Kiyoko handed you a bottle of water without a word, her expression calm, unreadable as always. Yachi was nervously adjusting towels on the bench, cheeks pink, eyes flicking back and forth between you two like she couldn’t believe she was standing in the presence of two composed goddesses. (I stand for lesbian yachi)

The three of you stood together for just a second, saying nothing. No wild gestures. No competition. No attention-seeking. Just calm, collected managers radiating unshakable serenity. Three girls in red and black jackets that represent their team, hair neat, eyes focused, a wall of silent strength behind every reckless boy on the court.

And behind you—

Pure chaos.

Tanaka had dropped his water bottle. It bounced off his foot and rolled under a bench, but he didn’t notice. He was staring, slack-jawed.

Nishinoya had one hand over his chest like he’d been shot.

Yamamoto was gripping the railing beside him like he needed support just to keep standing.

The three of them stood frozen, wide-eyed, breathless, staring at you and Kiyoko and Yachi like they’d just seen the final evolution of beauty itself.

“They’re… all together,” Tanaka whispered.

“This is too much,” Nishinoya said, voice breaking.

“It’s like a crossover episode I didn’t know I needed,” Yamamoto whispered reverently.

“They look like they belong on the cover of a shoujo manga,” Tanaka added.

“They look like they’d ignore us in a hallway,” Nishinoya said.

“They already do ignore us,” Yamamoto replied.

Yachi leaned in nervously. “Um, they’re still staring.”

“They’ll stop,” you said quietly.

Kiyoko didn’t even glance back. “Ignore them.”

And you did.

Tanaka sighed.

“I’m never recovering from this.”

── .✦

Omg I really liked that :D I enjoyed writing it, ty for the idea! Keep them coming! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)