Severance 84

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A hum leaves her lips as she folds the towels, sitting on the bench, the boys practice behind her

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A hum leaves her lips as she folds the towels, sitting on the bench, the boys practice behind her. Her eyes carefully watch each crease and fold. After she was done, Y/N was about to take them to the storeroom when Riseki suddenly took them from her hands.

"Let me help you!" He said and ran away with the towels towards the storeroom before she could say something. Dazai stared at his retreating figure with a confused gaze, blinking a few times. She looked at Kita and Aran with confusion: the two simply went back to practice.

She opted to sit beside the coaches and watch everyone practice receives. Dazai hummed to herself quietly as Atsumu spiked and Akagi received. She noticed the moment delay in Akagi's step and immediately told the coach. The older man noticed it the second time and told Akagi.

"Take a break!" The announcement had the boys cheering, well, almost everyone.

"Y/N-chan." Atsumu hugged her from behind, as Osamu simply took one of the water bottles from her hands.

"He's like a clingy cat." One of the 1st year's quietly commented and Dazai wondered.

Cat? More like a fox, no?

"You're heavy." She said as she looked at Kita for help.

"Mean!" Atsumu whined.

"And sweaty."

"Of course, I am!"

"And you stink."

"Now, you're just bullying me!"

Y/N shook her head and took a towel in her hands, herself, turning around and looking at Atsumu, "Bend down." She said.

The blonde immediately did as she said, no questions asked, making the others sweatdrop at him.

Is he a pet?

Is she a magician?

Were the thoughts of majority of the team while the others just watched blankly or continued with their own work. Y/N dried the blonde Miya's hair with the towel with a normal, neutral face. Miya Atsumu found himself staring at her from under the towel, eyes staring at her green and black irises as she seemed to be concentrated upon drying his slightly damp hair.

"Y/N-chan." Atsumu found himself asking before he could stop himself. The words left his lips in a low and quiet whisper: so unlike him, Miya Atsumu never was one who was quiet. Yet, in front of Dazai Y/N, it felt so natural, so easy to be quiet and calm. Was he loosing sight of his own loudness and rowdiness because of her?

The dark haired girl looked at him, her eyes dimmer than he had ever known or seen. All the others were busy with their own things and the coaches were talking; the two of them stood alone, in a corner, in their own world. His eyes skimmed over her face, noting all the changes that he had missed. Everything that his boisterous self had missed upon.

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