Y/N has always played her game with control-measured steps, precise timing, and just enough distance to keep everything steady.
As a third-year ace and a regular at national youth camps, she knows exactly where she stands and where she's going. Volleyball is predictable like that. If you work hard enough, if you read the game right, everything falls into place.
People don't. Especially not Suna Rintarō.
What starts as a quiet, almost unremarkable familiarity-shared classes, passing conversations, mutual friends-slowly shifts into something harder to define. Not sudden, not obvious, and definitely not easy.
Somewhere between late practices, unexpected conversations, and moments that linger a little longer than they should, the rhythm they've both relied on starts to falter.
And for the first time, being off tempo doesn't feel like a mistake.
It feels like something they might not want to fix.
But with nationals, youth selections, and futures pulling them in different directions, timing becomes the one thing they can't seem to control.
And not everything off-beat finds its way back in sync.
Somewhat a slow burn
No smoker suna
No smut only fluff
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All credits of the fanarts to the artist
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