The backbone of the group’s sound. He writes and produces most of their title tracks, obsessed with making sure their music feels authentic.
He spends nights in the studio tweaking little details that no one else notices, and when the others find him asleep at the mixing board, they drag him back to the dorm.
Known as the “genius composer” in the industry, but among the members, he’s their perfectionist hyung who stresses too much.
Sometimes gets into bickering matches with Baby, who suggests “wild ad-libs” that don’t fit the vibe. Abby usually steps in, smirking, “Let him cook, Jinu.”
Has a very deep respect for Mystery’s voice, often rearranging songs on the spot just to highlight Mystery’s vocals in climactic moments.
ABBY
Lead dancer, vocalist
The group’s showstopper. His choreo always highlights his physique—tight shirts and sleeveless tops. Loves choreography that flexes his abs and biceps. He lives for it.
Teases Jinu during practice: “Hyung, you make the songs, I’ll make people watch them.” Then rips his shirt halfway through a rehearsal just to annoy him.
Constantly annoys Jinu in the studio by flexing during recording: “Does this improve my diaphragm control?”
Loves dance battles. He’ll pull Baby in to freestyle against him, while the others hype in the background.
Romance teases him the most—if Abby shows off, Romance mimics him dramatically, making Abby yell mid-practice.
Before every concert, he jokes that his arms alone could carry the group’s popularity. Romance immediately smacks him with a water bottle.
ROMANCE
Sub vocalist, sub composer, visual
On stage, he’s always mindful of camera angles and audience perspective.
Romance leans heavily on fanservice because it’s part of his visual role—he knows how to flirt without overstepping.
He knows he’s the face of the group and milks it. Constantly poses even during rehearsals until Baby throws a water bottle at him.
He loves coordinating with Jinu and Abby to make performances aesthetically appealing.
He occasionally argues with Jinu about minor melody choices, but it’s more playful than serious. Jinu usually ends up conceding because Romance can dramatize any idea, so it looks “better on stage."
While composing, he experiments with subtle vocal textures that complement Jinu’s main lines.
He often hums in between takes, which Mystery critiques quietly because he’s a perfectionist about sound blending.
MYSTERY
Offstage, he's the one who lightens the mood, making subtle gestures to others and teasing Baby when he plays with the lyrics or improvisations.
The fans love him for his charisma and looks, but the group teases him mercilessly backstage. Abby especially: “Without makeup, you’re just mid.”
Lead vocalist, backround vocals, sub rapper
His voice is the group’s secret weapon. It’s heavenly, ethereal, and almost chilling. He’s the one who delivers those high notes that make live audiences cry(and unconsciously
While quiet off-stage, he transforms when singing. Even other idols admire him, calling his voice “from another world.”
Sometimes jokes with Baby by harmonizing with his rap lines in a ridiculous high pitch during practice, which sends the others into chaos.
Works seamlessly with Jinu in the studio, offering subtle ideas that elevate songs without ego. Jinu often says Mystery is “the heart of every track.”
BABY
He and Romance have an unspoken rivalry for who fans think is the group’s true visual. Mystery doesn’t care outwardly, but Romance loves stirring it up.
On stage, his aura is mysterious (pun intended). Romance sometimes leans into him during concerts to make fans go wild, though Mystery barely reacts.
Main rapper, sub composer, maknae
Baby balances being cute and bratty with technical skills. On stage, his raps hit hard, contrasting his cutesy persona, which surprises fans.
As maknae, he gets away with the most cheeky gestures, but the older members subtly discipline him mid-performance—like nudging him to line up, keep rhythm or fix his scowling face when on stage.
He improvises ad-libs that sometimes throw the others off—but when done right, it’s electric. Abby and Romance tease him, but Jinu watches him carefully to make sure it doesn’t ruin timing.
In rehearsal, he experiments with silly sounds, driving Jinu crazy.
Baby loves testing harmonies with Mystery, seeing if the older boy will flinch at ad-lib deviations. It’s subtle, but it keeps their dynamic playful.
When composing, Baby often experiments with beats and double meaning lyrics(suggestive and soul devouring), occasionally getting Jinu’s approval or Abby laughing at his ridiculous ideas.
Bonus:
Practice Battles: Abby and Baby often start playful competitions during dance practice, Jinu intervenes with calm authority, Mystery critiques quietly, and Romance exaggerates movements for dramatic flair.
Practice room: Baby lies on the floor pretending to be dead while Abby forces him up to rehearse choreo. Romance films it for “memories.” Mystery quietly practices his falsettos. Jinu sighs but secretly loves their energy.
Live Performance Flow:
Jinu stabilizes the main melody.
Abby keeps choreography sharp while adding flair.
Romance flirts with the audience and camera angles.
Mystery ensures harmonies are tight and sub-raps are perfect.
Baby hits ad-libs and raps while teasing the others subtly.
Off-Stage Banter:
Baby complains about his cute persona.
Abby flexes, showing off.
Romance flirts, sometimes with Jinu or Baby, teasing each other.
Mystery silently critiques or adds subtle commentary.
Jinu observes, nudges, and subtly maintains the group’s balance.
To that rude anonymous blog that sent an ask about how I should stop writing if I'm going to paint the saja boys as "shitty boyfriends" when they're so "complex"
⚠️WARNING⚠️: Opinion
Jinu is the only one people and I can truly mischaractarize among the Saja boys. I don't like writing him that much because of it, but I do try to characterise him better by reading other writers' posts about him and analyzing the movie. So I can take and accept a criticism on how I write him.
But he other 4 only had very few lines and screen time. We have an idea of 15-20% of their character. Then the 75-80% is just a blank canvas that's free for us fans to paint whatever, and there's nothing complex about them(yet).
Let's just wait for the 2nd movie if Sony ever brings them back before we send rude asks to a writer:)
HELLO!! Can I perhaps request Poly!saja boys x S/o where she cooks them food but doesnt know they're taste buds can't taste human food properly so they soit them out and she catches them? THANK YOUU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE🥺🩷
•|DEAR CHEF♥︎
FIC: You cook them food, and they respond so positively. But then you see them spitting it out like it's poison
•|Crack, mild hurt to comfort, domestic fluff
(Fem reader as anonymous mentioned)
{Request}
The kitchen smelled like heaven.
You hummed lightly to yourself as you stirred the last pan, taste-testing with a wooden spoon and sighing happily. Everything had turned out perfectly—steamed rice, golden-brown fried fish, stir-fried veggies, a pot of soup bubbling on the side. It was the first time in weeks you’d been able to cook a full spread for your boys, and you couldn’t stop smiling as you set the table for six.
“Dinner’s ready!” you called, voice bright, the kind of warmth that turned even the coldest corners of their strange home into something human.
One by one, the Saja boys drifted into the dining room.
Abby stretched his arms with a yawn, grinning lazily at the sight of you. Romance was already throwing himself dramatically into the chair closest to the food. Mystery lingered behind with that unreadable face, while Baby padded in last, expression nonchalant, though his eyes flicked to you immediately like they always did. And Jinu, of course, came in steady and poised, the calm pillar of the group, giving you one of his soft, proud smiles.
“You didn’t have to go all out,” Jinu said, sitting down and watching you fuss over the dishes.
“I wanted to,” you chirped, cheeks flushed. “You guys are always training, fighting, doing… whatever you do. I wanted to take care of you for once.”
They exchanged glances. Just for a moment, something unspoken passed between them.
But then you clapped your hands together, so eager it nearly broke their hearts. “Okay! Dig in!”
---
The first bites were taken hesitantly.
Abby shoveled rice into his mouth, chewing with forced casualness. Romance immediately groaned dramatically—“Ahhh, so good!”—though his eyes flickered briefly toward Mystery as if to check if he’d oversold it. Mystery, for his part, ate slowly and quietly, his expression a perfect mask, betraying nothing of the taste on his tongue.
Baby chewed once, twice, and then lazily leaned back in his chair, muttering, “It’s fine.” His usual bratty tone covered the truth, though you didn’t notice.
And Jinu… Jinu just smiled at you and kept eating, the perfect boyfriend.
Because the truth was, to them, human food tasted like ash. Bland, bitter, sometimes even painful on their tongues. Their bodies weren’t made for it anymore.
But the way you looked at them now—bright eyes, hopeful smile, waiting for their reactions like it was the most important thing in the world—there was no way any of them could tell you.
So they forced it down. Bite after bite, each mouthful heavier than the last, the only thing keeping them going was the sound of your happy hum as you picked up your chopsticks and finally joined them.
---
Halfway through the meal, Romance nearly gave himself away. He tried to discreetly push a piece of fish to the side of his plate, but you caught it.
“Romance,” you frowned. “You don’t like it?”
He panicked for exactly one second—then leaned dramatically over the table, cupping your face in his hands. “Nooo, I was saving it for you, sweetheart. Look at you, cooking so much and not eating enough. Here, say ahhh—” He stuffed the fish back onto your plate before you could question it.
You blinked at him, then giggled, clearly convinced. “You’re silly.”
The boys breathed out in unison.
---
Half way trhrough dinner, some side dish plates were empty. You looked so proud as you started stacking the empty tiny plates, humming again as you carried them back to the kitchen.
And the moment you were out of sight, they all collapsed.
Abby slumped forward, tongue sticking out as if he were dying. Romance fanned his mouth dramatically, groaning. Baby grabbed a napkin and scrubbed his tongue, scowling. Mystery silently passed him a glass of water. Jinu just pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.
“She’s gonna notice eventually,” Mystery said quietly.
Jinu’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll deal with it. But not like this. Not when she looked that happy.”
Because they’d take a hundred meals like that, bitter as ash, if it meant keeping that glow on your face.
And so, every time you peeked back into the room, finding them all sitting up straight again—smiling, laughing, pretending like nothing was wrong—you never suspected a thing.
Not when Abby winked and flexed, bragging that he needed your cooking to keep his muscles strong. Not when Romance begged you to cook again tomorrow. Not when Baby muttered “Tch. She’s gonna spoil us rotten,” though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Not even when Mystery quietly slipped his empty plate toward you with a murmured, “Thank you.”
And especially not when Jinu always kissed your temple and said, “It was perfect. You’re perfect.”
---
You had left the table with a few empty bowls, humming as you headed toward the sink, ready to clean up a little before you relaxed. The kitchen smelled faintly of leftover steam from your efforts, and your heart still fluttered from watching them enjoy your food—even if you didn’t know, they were barely tasting it.
When you turned back around, though, your smile faltered.
Abby, Baby, Mystery, Romance, and even Jinu were all scattered around the kitchen like five cats caught mid-chaos. Abby had lifted a small pile of fried veggies and was practically shoving them into Derpy’s gaping mouth with a proud grin. Baby, napkin in hand, was furiously scrubbing his tongue as if it were a crime scene. Mystery crouched by the counter, dumping a few stray grains of rice into Derpy’s enormous paws to make it seem Derpy stole the food. Romance was waving his dramatically on his mouth and muttering, “This is an injustice! The flavours, the betrayal!”
And then… they all froze.
Your cheeks puffed out in the saddest, cutest frown they’d ever seen. Your eyes glistened, small lips trembling as you whispered, “You… you didn’t eat it?”
Jinu went pale. Abby’s hand froze mid-veggie shove. Mystery looked like a deer caught in headlights. Baby—well, he just blinked and muttered, “Oh crap.” Romance practically screamed.
“We…we can explain!” Jinu blurted, stepping toward you like a very worried panther. “It was for your happiness! You looked so happy! We couldn’t—don’t cry!”
You crossed your arms, shaking your head, still pouting. “But… I made it for you! And you… you didn’t weren't … even eating it.."
Abby tried to interject, but Romance shouted over him, “We were TRYING! Okay?! The taste—it’s… it’s ash in our mouths!”
“Ash!? My hours of cooking?!” you shrieked dramatically, voice cracking just enough to make them cringe.
Mystery groaned, massaging his temples. “We can’t eat human food. Our bodies aren’t… made for it!”
Baby, surprisingly blunt as ever, shrugged. “It’s disgusting. But we had to act like it was amazing. Or you'd have noticed. And now you're… looking at us like that.” He gestured vaguely to your pouting, misty-eyed face.
You stomped a foot. “So all this time… all this effort… wasted?”
“No! Not wasted!” Jinu nearly shouted, his calm leader energy cracking into pure panic. He reached out and cupped your cheek gently. “You have to believe us… we wanted you to be proud, to feel accomplished. That’s why we didn’t tell you the truth. We weren’t trying to hurt you.”
You blinked at him, unsure whether to be more annoyed or to just collapse into his arms. He leaned closer, whispering, “We’d rather eat ash than see you disappointed in yourself.”
Your pout softened slightly, though you still crossed your arms. Abby grinned sheepishly. “And… Derpy got the leftovers. He’s happy, see?” He gestured to the blue tiger who was lazily chewing at a stray piece of rice.
Romance groaned again, throwing his hands over his face. “We’re never living this down, are we?”
Baby rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t suppress the little smile tugging at his lips.
Jinu, seeing the tension ease just a tiny bit, leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “See? Nothing to be sad about. You’re… amazing.”
You blinked, caught off guard, and let out a small squeak. Romance dramatically groaned in the background. Abby chuckled, and Mystery shook his head with a small smirk. Baby… just shrugged and muttered, “Still taste horrible, though.”
Somehow, somehow, you couldn’t stay upset.
But still.....
---
You sat back down at the table, poking at the small pile of leftovers that hadn’t made it to Derpy’s maw. Your cheeks were puffed out in the most exaggerated pout imaginable, and your chopsticks hovered dangerously over your food.
“Honestly,” you grumbled, stabbing a piece of rice with the precision of a frustrated general, “all this time I slaved over six portions, and you guys didn’t even tell me you can’t eat it?! Do you know how much effort that was?!”
Abby winced as if you’d just aimed a spear at him. Romance rested his chin on his hand. “She’s… threatening us with chopsticks. Incredible.” In the most fascinated voice ever.
Mystery muttered under his breath, “She could probably blind us with that..."
Baby, leaning lazily against the counter, gave a single, deadpan shrug. “Honestly, deserved. But also… she looks way too cute sulking like that. Almost makes it worth the trouble.”
You jabbed another piece of food into your mouth, glaring at them between chews. “And now I have to eat all of this! Six portions! You’re literally planning to make me fat! This is cruel and unusual punishment!”
Jinu, who had been hovering anxiously, finally leaned forward, hands up in surrender. “We… didn’t expect you to eat it all yourself! We just—look, you have to understand, we couldn’t risk you noticing that it… doesn’t taste right to us. It would have… ruined everything.”
You shook your chopsticks threateningly. “Ruined everything? My pride? My waistline?! I could choke you with these if I wanted!”
Abby, trying not to laugh, added, “She does have a point, though. It is a lot of food for one human. We kinda set her up for this.”
Mystery leaned against the fridge, smirking. “Honestly, watching her sulk while she rants is… pretty entertaining.”
Baby finally pushed off the counter, walking over and peering at your pile. “She’s actually eating it. All of it..?"
You paused mid-bite, glaring at him. “Now you're questioning me?! You all could have just told me! Instead, I have to eat my own cooking for six people! And you didn’t even notice me sulking?! How dare you!”
Jinu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine, fine, we messed up. Happy now?” He leaned over and gave you a gentle peck on the cheek, right in the middle of your dramatic rant.
You froze, chopsticks suspended midair, and squeaked, “That… doesn’t make it better!”
Romance sighed. “She’s literally impossible.”
Abby chuckled, Mystery rolled his eyes, and Baby just shrugged again. “Worth it.”
And yet, despite your furious sulking and threats, the kitchen was filled with a warm, chaotic energy: you, eating the leftovers with a scowl, and five demons silently panicking, laughing, and watching you like you were the absolute center of the universe.
And Derpy is there too. His large paw on your lap, asking for more. At least you know someone actually knows your food is good.
Sorry this took so long! We had exams this week, and I simply couldn't afford to fail, so I hope you understand and enjoyed this<333
Hcs. Things were about to get steamy until they accidentally pinned you too hard on the wall, and you hit your head
Characters: Jinu, Abby, Romance, Mystery, Baby
JINU
The second your head thuds against the wall, his “sexy face” drops instantly into pure panic.
“Oh crap—are you okay??” He’s already rubbing the back of your head before you can answer.
When you say it’s fine, he still keeps muttering, “I’m such an idiot,” but then bursts into laughter because he can’t believe he just fumbled that hard.
The rest of the night he keeps mock-posing against the wall going, “Are you ready for round two?” and then fake-pushing himself away like he's scared of breaking you again.
ABBY
The thud echoes in the room, and he just blinks like, “…That wasn’t sexy, was it?”
You glare at him while holding your head, and he’s already apologizing but trying not to laugh.
“Baby, your skull’s tougher than that— ow, okay, okay, no hitting.”
He ends up hugging you to “check for injuries,” but somehow makes it feel like round two is about to start anyway.
ROMANCE
You let out your “ow!” and instead of apologizing immediately, he stares at you like he’s calculating the exact degree of embarrassment he feels.
Then—dead serious—he says, “In my head, that move looked hot as hell.”
You start laughing, which makes him laugh too, and now the whole “sexy mood” is completely gone.
He ends up leaning his forehead against yours, chuckling, “Okay, okay, let’s just pretend that never happened and try again… gently this time.”
MYSTERY
You let out your “ow!” and he immediately tries to stifles a grin.
“Sorry—sorry—okay, no, I’m not sorry, that was hilarious.”
You threaten to walk away, and he’s grabbing your waist to keep you there, still grinning like an idiot.
Any attempt to get back into a sexy mood is impossible because he keeps fake-“thudding” you against imaginary walls just to tease.
BABY
Instead of apologizing, he stares you dead in the eye and says, “…Your fault for having such a big head.”
You swat him, and he finally cracks a smirk, grabbing your chin to look at the “injury.”
“Aww, did I hurt the princess? Should I kiss it better?” — proceeds to kiss everywhere except the spot you actually hit.
He's the only one who somehow turns the moment back into foreplay without skipping a beat.
Hcs: Their red flags. (Other than the fact that they're demons)
Characters: Jinu, Abby, Romance, Mystery, Baby
JINU
Gaslighter: Will gaslight you with a smile if it gets him what he wants. “You’re remembering it wrong, baby. That’s not what happened.”
Emotional manipulator: He has no issue using your insecurities against you in arguments, just to watch how you react, then swooping in to “comfort” you afterwards.
Passive-Aggressive: Instead of directly confronting you, he'll withdraw affection until you “figure out what you did wrong.”
ABBY
Peacock Complex: He needs people to see him looking good. Will subtly steer you toward crowded spots so more eyes are on him, whether it’s the gym, a bar, or even a grocery store.
Physical Intimidator: Not in the sense of hitting you, but using his size, stance, and closeness to make sure you feel small when he’s angry.
Trophy Mindset: Treats you like the ultimate accessory. Yes, he loves you, but part of him also loves how you make him look when you’re on his arm.
ROMANCE
Emotional Manipulator: Will weaponize his feelings — guilt-tripping you by acting hurt or sad until you cave to his demands.
Obsessive: Keeps track of every detail about you, including things you never told him directly, and uses it to his advantage.
Isolation Tactics: Subtly discourages you from spending time with others so he becomes your primary emotional outlet.
MYSTERY
Smothering: Treats you like a possession he constantly needs near him — to the point where he gets restless if you’re away for too long.
Playful Control: Masks his dominance under teasing and “cute” nicknames, but it’s still control — and you realize later you’ve given up freedoms without noticing
Jealous Possessive: Doesn’t like anyone else get your attention. Will physically insert himself between you and another person and bark without warning.
BABY
Power Player: Turns sweetness into leverage, making her feel like she owes him compliance because he’s “so good” to her most of the time.
Punitive Lover: If you upset him, you feel it — whether it’s through denial, distance, or public humiliation.
Verbal Knife-Thrower: Knows exactly what to say to hit where it hurts — and will use it when he’s angry.
Riddle is not Emo or Goth! Emo style focuses more on expressing sadness and depression. Idia, or rather his outlook on life, would be Emo.
Goth is more romantic with a focus on macabre topics like death and mortality but not as much sadness, closer to Malleus.
Riddle’s dream perspective is different from these two!
He’s dreaming about being wild, chaotic, and breaking the law! He wants to form a band and rebel! Cater said that Leona’s dorm uniform would fit with Riddle’s idea!!
Riddle’s outfit combines various patterns and styles. Pearls and too many rings! Three different types of socks! A fur coat with various patches! His perspective is loud, wild, and in your face!
Atsumu, Sakusa, Suna, and Tsukishima reacting to their girlfriend wearing something revealing on a date
Atsumu Miya
Atsumu loves it. The moment he sees you in that outfit, his jaw drops, and he lets out a long whistle.
“Damn, sweetheart, ya tryna kill me before dinner?” He’s shameless about checking you out, grinning like a fool.
He will 100% show you off, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and making sure everyone knows you’re with him.
If he notices other people staring too much, though, he gets a little possessive. Might throw an arm around your shoulders or kiss your temple just to make it clear you’re taken.
But mostly, he just hypes you up. “Hottest person in the whole damn place, and ya came here with me.”
Sakusa Kiyoomi
At first, he’s stunned silent. His eyes widen slightly, and he stares for a solid few seconds, taking in every detail.
He clears his throat and tries to act normal, but you can see the tips of his ears turning red. “You’re wearing that?”
He’s conflicted—on one hand, you look incredible, but on the other, he hates the idea of other people looking at you the way he does.
The entire date, he’s extra protective, walking close to you, guiding you with a hand on your lower back, and glaring at anyone who stares too long.
At some point, he mumbles, “You look amazing, but next time… maybe something less eye-catching.” He’s not even mad, just struggling.
Suna Rintarō
He raises a single eyebrow when he sees you, smirking. “Well, well, well. What’s the occasion?”
He loves it but plays it cool, teasing you just enough to get a reaction. “Trying to make me jealous? Or just making my job harder?”
If someone stares too much, he just gives them that look—the lazy, unimpressed stare that makes people immediately look away.
The entire night, he has his hand on you somewhere—your waist, your thigh, the small of your back. It’s casual, but there’s a definite you’re mine energy behind it.
At the end of the date, he leans in and murmurs, “Next time, you’re wearing that just for me.”
Tsukishima Kei
The moment he sees you, he pauses. His eyes drag up and down slowly, and then he just… scoffs. “Seriously?”
But don’t be fooled—he is definitely affected. His ears turn pink, and he keeps glancing at you when he thinks you won’t notice.
If you tease him about it, he’ll roll his eyes and say something sarcastic like, “I just don’t want to deal with every idiot staring at you all night.”
He acts annoyed, but he subtly adjusts his stance so he’s always between you and anyone staring too hard.
At the end of the night, when he thinks you’re not looking, he lets himself really admire you and mutters, “You really do look good, though.”
You always liked watching Iwaizumi workout. It was mesmerizing—the way his muscles flexed and stretched under the weight, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he pushed himself harder, the sharp focus in his eyes. And now, years later, after he had carved a career out of fitness and sports science, watching him train in his own gym was an entirely different kind of experience.
Because now, you got to be part of it.
“Alright, sit,” Iwaizumi says, dropping into a push-up position.
You grin, already moving to straddle his back, your weight settling over his strong frame. His muscles twitch slightly at the added pressure, but he barely hesitates before he starts. Smooth, controlled movements—like you weigh nothing at all.
“Still too easy?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm.
Iwaizumi huffs, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”
You shift your weight slightly, adjusting your position, and he grunts at the change in balance. His arms flex harder, veins popping against his skin as he continues his reps. Your fingers absentmindedly trail over his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin, the power beneath it.
“Enjoying the view?” he asks, voice steady despite the strain.
“Very much.” You don’t even try to deny it.
After he finishes his set, you hop off and watch as he moves to the bench press. This time, you’re his spotter, standing at the head of the bench while he lies beneath the bar. His arms extend, lifting the weight effortlessly, but you stay close, hands hovering just in case.
Not that you think he needs it.
His gaze flickers up to yours between reps, and there’s something almost playful in his eyes. “You’re supposed to focus on the bar, not my face.”
“I am focused. Just not on the bar.”
Iwaizumi lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head before racking the weight. He sits up, sweat dripping down his temple, and you hand him his water bottle. He takes a sip, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at you.
“You should train with me sometime,” he says, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt—giving you an absolutely unfair glimpse of his abs in the process.
“I am training,” you counter, gesturing to yourself. “Moral support is a very important part of the gym experience.”
He rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the small smile that tugs at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. You just wanna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work.”
“Exactly,” you say, beaming. “And you love it.”
He doesn’t argue. Instead, he reaches out, tugging you closer by the waist until you’re standing between his legs. His fingers drum lightly against your hip as he looks up at you, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I do,” he admits, voice low. “But if you’re gonna keep distracting me, I might have to start making you work out with me.”
You pretend to consider it, then shake your head. “Nope. I think I’ll stick to my role.”
Iwaizumi chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach before standing up. “Fine. But if you’re gonna sit there looking pretty, at least count my reps.”
You grin, hopping onto a nearby bench to continue watching him train.
The late afternoon sun spilled golden streaks through the dusty windows of Shiratorizawa Academy’s old music room. Dust motes danced lazily in the beams of light, and the faint hum of volleyballs being spiked in the distance was like a distant heartbeat—steady, familiar, and comforting. But for Semi Eita, none of that mattered. His heart was racing far too fast, thumping wildly against his chest as if it was trying to escape.
Across from him, you sat on one of the worn chairs, your bag slouched at your feet, an easy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Semi’s hands were clammy, fingers brushing over the cool strings of his guitar. He wasn’t nervous about the chords—they were etched into his muscle memory. No, what terrified him was you.
You were about to become the first person to hear his music.
“I-I mean, it’s nothing special,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrayed him with a nervous hitch. “I just… thought maybe you'd want to hear it. Or not. You don’t have to.”
You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening into something that made his heart stutter even more. “Eita, I’d love to hear it.”
That was it. No backing out now.
He took a deep breath, fingers finding the first chord—familiar yet foreign under the weight of your attention. His voice, low and a little rough around the edges, wavered only for the first few words. But as the melody flowed, the lyrics wrapped around the room like a fragile confession.
The song wasn’t perfect. His voice cracked slightly on the bridge, and he fumbled a chord near the end. But it was real. Every line was stitched with feelings he’d been too scared to say out loud—how your laughter felt like the first day of spring, how your presence made his world brighter even on the grayest days, how just seeing you turned the ordinary into something extraordinary.
When the last note faded, leaving only the quiet hum of his racing heart, he finally dared to look up. You were staring at him, eyes shimmering with something he couldn’t quite read—until you spoke.
“That was beautiful,” you whispered, voice soft like the song’s final note. “Eita… did you write that about… me?”
His face flushed instantly, ears burning bright red. Semi looked down, fiddling with his guitar strings, mumbling, “Maybe. I mean—yeah. Probably. I guess.”
Silence settled for a heartbeat before you stood, crossing the small distance between you two. You gently took the guitar from his hands, setting it aside before kneeling in front of him. His breath caught.
“I’m really glad you showed me,” you said softly. Then, with a courage he didn’t know he deserved, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, right where the blush bloomed the fiercest.
Semi felt like he was floating. Like he was still caught in the chorus of his song, wrapped in a melody only you and he could hear.
And in that tiny, dusty music room, under the golden hues of the setting sun, Semi Eita realized that maybe—just maybe—the scariest songs to sing were the ones that mattered most.
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
kaledo-art
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind