The gym was already buzzing when the sliding door creaked open.
Heads turned. Conversations stopped.
There, standing in the doorway, was Asahi Azumane—tall, broad-shouldered, hair tied back, a nervous look in his eyes. He was wearing simple sweats, a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder like he wasn't sure he belonged here.
Before anyone else could move, Hinata sprinted over. "Asahi-san! You came!"
Asahi's expression cracked into a tiny smile. "Yeah… figured I'd at least see how it feels to be back."
From the far end of the court, Akira looked up from tying his shoes. "So you're the legendary ace, huh?" His voice was teasing but curious, not mocking.
Aya, leaning against the wall with a water bottle, added, "Legendary… and way taller than I thought."
Asahi rubbed the back of his neck, clearly overwhelmed. "I'm… not really—"
"Stop," Akira interrupted with a smirk. "You don't walk into this gym with that frame and get to say you're not an ace."
Daichi walked over, clapping a hand on Asahi's shoulder. "We're glad you're here, Azumane. Suit up."
Warmups started awkwardly. Asahi kept glancing around like he was afraid of letting everyone down again. But then Hinata darted past him to grab a ball, nearly colliding into his side.
"Whoa—you're huge up close!" Hinata said with a grin. "We're totally gonna win with you here!"
Asahi chuckled nervously. "Uh… thanks?"
Kageyama walked over, tossing a ball in the air. "We're working on a new quick attack. You should see it."
Aya leaned toward Asahi like she was letting him in on a secret. "Translation: prepare for chaos."
They set it up.
Hinata crouched, eyes sharp. This time, he wasn't staring at the floor—his gaze tracked Kageyama's hands, the ball, the blockers. The set came fast, just like always, but instead of closing his eyes and swinging blindly, Hinata chose the angle midair, smashing it past Tanaka's attempted block.
The ball hit the floor with a sharp thwack.
The gym erupted.
Akira whistled low. "Guess the shrimp learned a new trick."
Hinata landed, beaming. "See?! I can look now! We can totally do more!"
Kageyama's eyes narrowed, but there was a small, almost proud smirk tugging at his lips. "Still needs work."
They kept running drills, but something had shifted. Asahi, watching from the back row, started edging forward. The more he saw—the quicks, the hustle, the way Akira's serene style seemed to make even chaos look controlled—the more the old itch to play burned in his chest.
When it was his turn to hit, Akira tossed him the ball without a word. The set came from Kageyama, clean and high.
Asahi's spike roared down the sideline, a perfect kill.
The team exploded in cheers, and for the first time in a long while, Asahi grinned like he believed he belonged there.
As practice wound down, Akira fell into step beside him. "You're staying, right?"
Asahi hesitated… then nodded. "Yeah. I'm staying."
Aya smirked from the water cooler. "Good. You'd better—because now we've got three unstoppable hitters."
Daichi, overhearing, chuckled. "Karasuno's attack might just be scarier than ever."