The Heidel Devils are looking for a shield. A true defensive anchor. We are looking for you.

  Himeko's eyes went wide open.

  Getting recruited was one thing, but it mattered who did the recuiting. The young captain of the Heidel Devils was from the very team that had annihilated the Port Osea Divers and knocked them out of the playoffs just weeks ago.

  The memory of the 0-3 scoreline and her team's futile battle against Ivanka's attack still haunted her with a chilling fear. That moment, Ivanka’s gaze, emotionless and belittling, was still fresh in her mind, the cold glare with which a judge looks at a sinner she was about to execute.

  But now, the Queen wanted her in court.

  "You won't be fighting for a position, Himeko," Ivanka added. "Our blockers are... capable. But they lack your understanding. You would be a starter from day one."

  To be a starter for a title contender meant no more scraping by in the port, no more carrying the load for a team still finding its identity. Ivanka was offering a golden opportunity, Himeko should take it every chance she had.

  Himeko looked down at her knees, imagining herself wearing the purple and black of Heidel, crowd cheering, fame and fortune.

  Another image superimposed itself over the fantasy.

  Flickering lights high above the Port Osea gym - worn-out ball, sweat on the floor. She saw Jules wearing that warm smile, albeit a bit goofy at times. She saw Sarah handing out bottles water, asking if Himeko were tired but knew her current state anyway and offered some cookies. And Lisa with those stubbornly endearing eyes, it was as if the team had two very different types of hard-headed introverts. Her teammates had always been there for as long as she could remember.

  Then, she saw Willow Vance.

  The anxious, trembling, who hid behind her bangs, stuttering through play calls. Beneath her, the other Willow, who saw the court in mathematics, whose sets were becoming sharper, faster, and more brilliant every day. Willow needed her to be there, to leave now would be to abandon a masterpiece halfway through its creation.

  Himeko let out a breath.

  Then she looked up, meeting Ivanka's gaze.

  "A nice offer," Himeko said. "And coming from you, it means a lot. Truly."

  Ivanka smiled and closed her eyes, sensing the 'but'.

  "But I can't," Himeko continued. "We're building something in Osea. It's messy, loud... but it's ours. And we have a setter who's going to surprise everyone very soon."

  Ivanka studied her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Her smile returned. She didn't look offended; if anything, she looked impressed.

  "Loyalty," Ivanka mused. "A rare currency these days. Perhaps that is why your defense is so excellent." She smoothed the front of her training kit. "I accept your answer, Himeko. For now."

  Ivanka turned to leave. "However, seasons change. If you ever find that the Port becomes too small for your ambition... or if the burden becomes too heavy... come to Heidel."

  With a nod, Ivanka walked away.

  Ivanka disappeared into the crowd of elite athletes; the regal scent dissipated in her wake.

  Leaning back against the ball, closed her eyes for a second. That was a lot to take in, all she wanted was five minutes of silence to process the last minutes.

  "Scary, isn't she?"

  The voice came from directly above her.

  Himeko's eyes snapped open; a huge shadow cast over her face. Kevin Marvant stood there, arms crossed over his chest, looking in the direction Ivanka had walked. He seemed... amused.

  Didn't respond, Himeko turned her head, and gave him the weirdest, most unenthused side-eye.

  Kevin, however, just looked down at her, meeting her gaze with an unbothered smile.

  Silence stretched between them...

  ...

  She waited for him to get the hint.

  ...

  He didn't.

  "What are you doing here?" Himeko asked.

  Kevin did a half-shrug, taking a half-step closer, though remaining a respectful distance. Then, his expression shifted; his smile lost a bit of its playfulness to show a more genuine expression for an honest exchange.

  "Look, I just wanted to circle back... about earlier and at the fountain. I might come off a bit strong, or maybe you thought I tried to mess with your headspace. Wasn't trying to be hostile."

  Himeko let out a short, sharp sigh. Grabbing her water bottle, she screwed the cap on tight.

  "I know you weren't hostile," she stood up. The height difference was annoying; she had to tilt her head back slightly just to look him in the eye. "You were just asking a question and I understood that."

  "Okay. So... we're good?"

  "We aren't 'good' or 'bad', I told you earlier and I meant it. I don't want to be bothered."

  Kevin’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  "I don't get it. We're peers. It's just a friendly exchange. Why put up a wall? Is it superstition or something?"

  Himeko slung her gym bag over her shoulder, and looked at him, like really looked at him. He wasn't arrogant, or malicious. He was just... extroverted, and he couldn't comprehend someone who wasn't.

  "There is no superstition," Himeko said. "And there is no logic to it that you would accept. I am simply... illogical."

  "Illogical?"

  "I don't like strangers. I don't like small talk." She took a step past him. "I'm asking you, to stop bothering me. Please."

  Himeko walked away as she headed straight to the exit.

  He stood alone by the bench, watching her retreat for the second time that day. Kevin reached up and scratched his head, and messed up his hair.

  The following days at the Aegutez Center turned into a bizarre game of cat and mouse, played by two people who couldn't be more different in their ways of life. Kevin was used to having people talking to him, or at least tolerating him, Himeko Nakamura, instead, treated his presence like a weather report she needed to evacuate from immediately.

  Attempt #1

  Next day at lunch, Kevin spotted the tall, dark-haired blocker sitting alone at a corner table, meticulously picking the onions out of her salad. Grabbing his tray, Kevin put on his most disarming, "I come in peace" smile, and began his approach.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  "Hey, about yester-"

  When he blinked once, the table was empty.

  Left alone was just an empty chair and a salad bowl that was still slightly spinning on the table surface. He looked left, then right. The cafeteria doors swung shut.

  "Damn she's fast," Kevin muttered, impressed despite himself.

  Attempt #2

  Later that afternoon, Kevin rounded the corner toward the vender machine, humming a tune. He saw a shadow stretching across the floor ahead of him, unmistakably hers.

  "Gotcha."

  Kevin sped up, rounding the corner with a friendly wave ready. "Yo, Himeko, do you have change for a-"

  ...

  The hallway was empty, the vending machine let out its usual clanking noise. Kevin noticed the maintenance door next to it was clicking shut. He stared at the door and knew she was behind it, he also knew that if he opened it, he would be crossing the line from "friendly pest" to "actual creep."

  Kevin sighed, put a coin in the machine, and bought a soda he didn't want.

  Attempt #3

  By Day 3, Kevin realized a frontal assault was impossible. Himeko's defensive reads were simply way too good.

  He found Damian snoozing on a stack of gym mats, a towel over his face, he tapped and called the snoozer.

  "Dam. Wake up. I have a mission for you."

  Damian groaned, lifting one corner of the towel. "If it involves running, I quit."

  "It involves talking. Go talk to that tall girl from Osea. Then burritos are on me."

  Damian sighed, deep, existential suffering sighing, but he hauled himself up. He shuffled across the gym toward where Himeko was stretching. Kevin observed from behind.

  Damian approached her. Himeko looked up.

  Kevin couldn't quite hear what was said between them, but he saw the interaction clearly. As Damian opened his mouth, Himeko's eyes narrowed into slits, cold as antarctica.

  Damian's mouth closed. He nodded once, turned around, and walked back to Kevin.

  "Well?"

  "She said 'No,'" Damian said, collapsing back onto the mats. "You're on your own. I'm going back to sleep."

  Attempt #?

  End of the week, and it had become ridiculous.

  Kevin was actively looking for her now; he searched the lounges, checked the weight room, the balconies, but Himeko always disappeared right before his eyes. At this point, he was just making a desperate attempt to simply wish her good luck before the upcoming Olympics.

  Squeezed into the dusty gap between a rolling cart of volleyballs and a stack of unused nets in the equipment room, Himeko held her breath. She could see Kevin's red sneakers pacing back and forth through the crack in the door.

  Go away, Himeko willed silently. Go away, go away, go away.

  She wasn't afraid of him. No... okay, perhaps a bit she was. She just knew that if she engaged with him again, he would keep talking, and if he kept talking, she would have to listen, and he was the type of person that had a way of speaking that made you want to listen, which was the most dangerous distraction of all.

  The sneakers paused. He was right outside the door. Himeko pressed herself flatter against the wall, making herself as two-dimensional as possible.

  Kevin stopped. He looked at the equipment room door, didn't quite know she was in there, not for sure. But he felt... something. He shook his head.

  Kevin leaned against the wall, looking up at the ceiling lights.

  Thinking back to that moment outside the stadium, it hadn't just been her face or her dismissal that caught him. It was "the vision". Kevin Marvant didn't believe in destiny, as he didn't believe in any kind of that 'love and first sight' bullshit, but he strongly believed in his own intuition. He placed absolute trust his gut on-court more than he trusted the eyes. That moment when she outright scorned him, Kevin Marvant - the MVP, those moments when he had seen her play, her disciplines, that refusal to break - his gut had screamed at him - of a partnership that could change everything. He rarely missed a read. The MVP, he was, because he saw things before they happened.

  But then, he couldn't force a play that wasn't there.

  "Man," he sighed. "I guess I really am just a nuisance, huh?"

  Kevin pushed himself off the wall. The vision was still there, nagging at him, but he knew when to rotate, can't win a rally if the other player refuses to touch the ball.

  "Alright," he said to the empty air. "I surrender."

  Inside the closet, Himeko heard his footsteps retreating, slowly fading away down the hall.

  She waited a full two minutes before letting out an exhale. She slid out from behind the ball cart, dusting off her jersey. She was safe. She had won.

  So why did the silence feel a little bit colder than before?

  The rest of the training camp passed without incident. True to his silent word, Kevin stopped approaching her, as they existed in the same orbit, passing each other during drills or meals, but he offered nothing more than a polite nod. Himeko returned it with her usual blankness.

  The Olympic Games arrived. The Voland National Teams performed exactly to expectations.

  Himeko played her part. She rotated in during the group stages against the lower-ranked teams, nations that were happy just to be there, blocked a few spikes, served cleanly, and did her job. Once the knockout rounds began, the coaching staff tightened the rotation: top players took the floor, and Himeko took the bench. Her sole job from then on was just to stand in the square box, hand out water bottles, and clap when a point was scored. Voland steamrolled the competition, dropping a single set in the entire tournament.

  On the Men's side, it was much of the same. They won Gold and Kevin Marvant was named MVP. Himeko only knew this because she heard the announcer talking it over the speakers while she was packing her bag. She didn't watch the match nor did it concern her.

  Podium ceremony was long. Anthem played, flags went up, and confetti cannon fired.

  Himeko stood in the back row of the formation; the gold medal hung heavy around her neck. She stared blankly at the flashing cameras.

  The VNL season opener was in two months. Port Osea's gym needed new nets. Himeko wondered what everyone's plan was before the season and what they would do once it started. The Gold was nice, sure, but it was just a piece of metal. The real work was waiting for her back at the port.