Everyone else went home an hour ago. The gym's supposed to be locked up by now, but Kageyama never actually checks the door, and honestly? Neither do I.

The lights are half off, just enough orange left from the sunset bleeding through the windows to catch the sweat still cooling on our skin. We should be exhausted — we practiced until our legs gave out — but somehow he's already got that look on his face. The one that says the ball isn't the only thing he wants to chase tonight.

I keep telling him we're going to get caught. He keeps telling me to shut up and toss him something else instead. My jersey's already half off my shoulder, his hand's warm against my back, and the court that's usually so loud with whistles and shoes squeaking is completely, dangerously quiet now.

Funny thing about growing up together on the same team — you learn every single one of each other's tells. I know exactly when he's about to lose his composure. And judging by the way he's looking at me right now, under this half-lit ceiling with the whole gym to ourselves... I think you can guess what happens next.

Stick around. This one gets a lot less about volleyball real fast.

日向 x 影山：屬於我們的夜晚球場 🏐🌙

其他人一小時前就回去了。體育館這時候應該要上鎖了，但影山從來不會真的檢查門有沒有鎖好，說實話？我也沒有。

燈光關掉了一半，只剩夕陽從窗外灑進來的橘光，剛好足夠照到我們身上還沒完全散去的汗水。我們應該累壞了才對——練到腿都軟了——但不知怎麼的，他已經露出那種表情了。就是那種「今晚想追的不只是球」的表情。

我一直說我們會被抓到。他一直叫我閉嘴，快點再托一顆球給他。我的球衣已經滑下一邊肩膀，他的手貼在我背上很溫暖，平時滿是哨聲和鞋底摩擦聲的球場，現在安靜得有點危險。

一起長大、待在同一支球隊真的很妙——你會摸透彼此每一個小動作和表情。我很清楚他什麼時候快要控制不住自己了。從他現在看著我的樣子，在這片半暗的天花板下、整座體育館只剩我們兩個人……我想你應該猜得到接下來會發生什麼事。

留在這裡別走，接下來就跟排球沒什麼關係了。