Semi x reader

Chapter 2

After practice ends, Semi Eita gathers his things, moving with the usual post-practice exhaustion. But something draws him toward the entrance, a quiet pull that he can't ignore. Before he realizes it, he's heading toward her—Ushijima's younger sister—who's still standing by the doorway, scrolling through her phone as she waits for her brother to finish up. When she senses him approaching, she looks up, her eyes widening slightly before a small, surprised smile lights up her face.

"Hey, you're Semi, right?" she says, her voice warm and smooth, a stark contrast to the crisp spring air around them. There's something about her demeanor—easy, but with a quiet strength that makes Semi feel as if he's in the presence of someone just as formidable as Ushijima, albeit in a completely different way.

He nods, feeling a strange, pleasant nervousness as he shifts his bag strap. "Yeah, that's me. And you're... Ushijima's sister."

She lets out a soft laugh, a sound that feels as comfortable as it is genuine, and shakes her head slightly. "That's one way to introduce me," she says, amusement dancing in her eyes. "But yes, I'm Wakatoshi's sister. I actually came by to tell you... I've seen a few of your games. You're a really impressive setter, Semi."

It's a simple compliment, but it catches him off guard in a way that no words have in a long time. Semi's so used to his role being understated, often overshadowed by Ushijima's powerful presence on the court. Being the team's ace naturally made Ushijima the star, and it was something Semi accepted without question, even if it occasionally left him feeling unseen. But hearing her say she'd noticed his plays—that he stood out to her—strikes a chord deep within him.

"Oh, thank you," he says, feeling heat creep up his cheeks as he tries to keep his voice steady. "That... actually means a lot. I kind of assumed everyone just watches Ushijima out there."

Her expression softens, and she tilts her head, studying him in a way that makes him feel like she's really seeing him. "Well, it's hard not to watch the ace," she concedes with a soft smile, "but I've watched enough volleyball to know talent when I see it. And your sets—they're strategic, precise. The way you work with the team... it's like you're a conductor in an orchestra."

Semi is struck silent for a moment. No one's ever described his playing like that, and he finds himself wishing he could somehow hold onto this moment. His nervousness fades, replaced by a warmth that seems to settle deep in his chest.

They continue to talk, lingering a bit longer than either intended. Their conversation flows effortlessly, moving from volleyball to their favorite classes, and he learns about her love for literature and her recent project on classic poetry. She surprises him, not just with her insight into the sport but with how effortlessly she transitions between intensity and laughter, her presence both captivating and comforting.

Eventually, they realize the sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the gym entrance, and they reluctantly say their goodbyes. As she walks away, she gives him one last smile, and it leaves him standing there, feeling as if the world has shifted just slightly. That brief, unexpected interaction sticks with him, his mind replaying her words and her laugh long after she's gone.

In the days that follow, her encouragement fuels his focus and determination. Each practice, he finds himself putting in that extra bit of effort, visualizing her watching from the sidelines, her gaze proud and attentive. His sets become faster and sharper, his serves more precise. His entire game feels sharper, and he realizes with a jolt that he wants to keep impressing her, to show her just how far he can go.

At their next match, his eyes immediately search the stands, scanning through the rows of spectators. And there she is, seated near the front, cheering with an intensity that matches her brother's on the court. Each time he lands a successful set or assist, she's the first one on her feet, clapping with genuine enthusiasm. Every glance he steals in her direction seems to steady him, filling him with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt before.

After another set, he's back in position, breathing hard, but he can't resist looking her way again. She's beaming, her eyes bright with excitement, and it sends a thrill through him. For a fleeting second, her gaze catches his, and she gives him an encouraging nod. He grins back, the weight of the game feeling just a little lighter as he readies for the next play.

By the end of the game, Semi's exhausted but exhilarated. As the team gathers for the victory celebration, he catches a glimpse of her waiting by the gym entrance, her smile as radiant as he remembers. When he walks over, she congratulates him with a warmth that feels like more than just a teammate's sister being polite. It feels genuine, something uniquely for him.

"That was incredible, Semi," she says softly, her eyes still holding his. "You really controlled the game out there."

Her words feel like a victory in themselves, something more powerful than any win on the scoreboard. He realizes then that his determination to keep improving isn't just for the team, or for himself—it's for her, too, the person who saw past the star players and noticed him.

After the group of boys are done packing, Tendou suddenly asked if they wanna hang out on the weekends since they don't have practice or anything planned, and it would be convenient too since they all live in dorms