𝑬𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑹𝑰𝑽𝑨𝑳𝑹𝒀 (Tsukikage)

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬

Helloooo!
Sorry if there is any grammer mistakes,
and enjoy reading!

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3𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐕-

The gym was still bathed in the soft glow of dawn when Tobio Kageyama arrived.
The familiar scent of sweat and polished wood greeted him as he stepped inside, his sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor.
It was early—earlier than usual—but that was how Kageyama liked it.

The quiet moments before the rest of the team arrived were his time to push himself, to refine every motion until it became second nature. Volleyball was everything to him, and he didn’t mind being alone in his pursuit of perfection.

Except today, he wasn’t alone.

Kageyama froze as his eyes landed on a tall, slender figure on the other side of the court. Kei Tsukishima was already there, practicing his serves with an unusual intensity. The sharp thwack of the volleyball echoed through the empty gym as Tsukishima hit the ball, sending it sailing over the net with a precision that caught Kageyama off guard.

For a moment, Kageyama just stood there, watching. Tsukishima’s form was flawless—his movements fluid, yet deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to calculate the perfect angle, the perfect trajectory. Kageyama had always known that Tsukishima was a good player, but seeing him like this, so focused and determined, was... unsettling.

Not because Tsukishima was improving—Kageyama respected anyone who worked hard to get better.
It was something else.
Something about the way Tsukishima’s brows knitted together in concentration, the way his glasses slipped down his nose and he absently pushed them back up.
The way his eyes narrowed as he tracked the ball’s flight, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips when he executed a particularly good serve.

-𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐏-

Kageyama shook his head, trying to clear the strange thoughts. This wasn’t the time to get distracted. He stepped onto the court, making his presence known with a deliberate cough. Tsukishima glanced up, his expression shifting into one of mild surprise before settling into his usual indifferent mask.

“You’re here early,” Kageyama commented, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Tsukishima replied, his tone as flat as ever.
He spun the ball in his hands, his gaze drifting back to the net. “Figured I might as well practice.”

Kageyama nodded, unsure how to respond.
There was an awkward silence as they stood there, neither of them making a move to start their usual routines.
Kageyama felt an odd tension in the air, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was like the gym was filled with static, crackling with unspoken words.

Finally, Kageyama turned away and headed toward his bag, pulling out his own volleyball. He needed to focus—he was here to train, not to analyze Tsukishima’s sudden change in behavior.
But even as he started his drills, setting and spiking the ball with practiced precision, his mind kept drifting back to the tall blonde on the other side of the court.

Why was Tsukishima here so early? He wasn’t known for being particularly dedicated to practice, often preferring to skate by on his natural talent rather than putting in extra effort. So what had changed? And more importantly, why did Kageyama care?

It wasn’t like they were friends. They tolerated each other at best,

-𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐭-