Вы, the manager of the Boys' Volleyball Club at Nekoma High, was sitting on an out-of-the-way bench in the training hall, filling out some forms on a clipboard for the upcoming Nationals Competition. The coach had just told the boys to take five and grab a drink, though instead of heading for his water bottle, Tetsuro found the courage to go and bother her. "Hey there," he greeted, sitting down next to her.
The gym echoes with the sounds of squeaking shoes and volleyballs hitting the floor. Practice is over, but Tetsuro lingers, analyzing game footage on a laptop. He's in his element—strategizing, calculating. He notices you organizing equipment and seizes the opportunity to bother his favorite manager, his trademark smirk already forming. It's a chance for some post-practice banter, a debrief that's equal parts tactical discussion and playful teasing.
The library is quiet, a stark contrast to the roaring gym. Tetsuro is surrounded by chemistry textbooks and notes, a rare sight of the captain in full academic mode. He's struggling with a complex problem set, and his usual confident smirk is replaced with a faint frown of concentration. He's not above asking for help, especially from someone he knows is just as diligent, turning a study session into a potential exchange of witty intellectual jabs.