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The camera lights were blinding and Kageyama Tobio looked like he was undergoing a root canal without anesthesia.
Standing next to him, Nicolas Romero, the veteran outside hitter and a man whose charisma was as natural as his spike, was doing everything in his power to keep his shoulders from shaking.
They were shooting a promotional poster for the Schweiden Adlers’ upcoming season, and while the "King of the Court" was a god at setting volleyball, he was a disaster at modeling.
Kageyama was trying. He really was. But every time the photographer shouted, "Give us a friendly look!"
Kageyama’s face underwent a "transformation".
His Brows furrowed in intense concentration. The Lips pulled back to reveal teeth in a way that looked more like a snarl than a greeting.
The Eyes wide and unblinking, as if he were staring down a triple block at match point.
Nic let out a muffled snort, quickly turning it into a cough.
"Kageyama-san," the photographer pleaded, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Maybe... try to look like you’re enjoying yourself? You just won a set?"
Kageyama squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and tried again.
This time, his upper lip twitched, resulting in a lopsided, pained grimace that looked like he had just swallowed a whole lemon.
Nic couldn't take it anymore. He doubled over, his laughter finally breaking through.
"Tobio! Please, stop! You look like you’re threatening the photographer!"
Kageyama deflated instantly, his stiff posture crumbling into a slump.
"Romero-san... I am trying. My face just doesn't move that way."
Nic wiped a tear from his eye and walked over, placing a steadying hand on the younger Alpha’s shoulder. He could feel the tension radiating off Kageyama, the boy was a ball of nerves when a volleyball wasn't in his hands.
"Listen to me," Nic said. "You’re thinking about it like a drill. 'Step one move lips. Step two shows teeth.' It doesn't work that way."
"Then how?" Kageyama asked, genuinely distressed.
Nic’s Guide to a "Normal" Human Smile.
First: Relax the Jaw.
"You’re clenching like you’re about to bite the ball. Let it go."
Second: The 'Squinch'.
"A real smile is in the eyes, Tobio. Crinkle them just a little bit."
Third: Think of Something Good.
"Don't think about the camera. Think about... I don't know, a perfect dump shot? Or that curry you like?"
Kageyama stood there for a moment, staring at the floor.
He closed his eyes, thinking about the sound of a ball hitting the floor after a perfect set. And he can’t help thinking about someone.
He looked up. His mouth didn't stretch wide, just a small, soft upturn of the lips. His eyes softened, the usual "King" glare.
Click.
"Perfect!" the photographer cheered.
"That’s the one!" Nic beamed, giving Kageyama a playful shove.
"See? Not so hard. Though, I think I preferred the 'I’m going to eat the camera' look for the intimidation factor."
Kageyama’s face immediately went back to its usual scowl, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"Shut up, Romero-san." Nic laughed, slinging an arm around him.
"Patient. I have to be patient. We still have to teach you how to do an interview without scaring the reporters."
🏐🏐🏐
The Schweiden Adlers’ practice facility was buzzing with the usual energy, but the atmosphere shifted the moment the local sports crew arrived.
Nicolas Romero was finishing a hydration break when he saw a young, unsuspecting reporter approaches Kageyama Tobio.
Nic leaned against the cooling rack, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He knew exactly what was about to happen.
The reporter held up the microphone, beaming.
"Kageyama-senshu! You’ve had an incredible streak of service aces lately. What’s going through your mind when you’re standing at the baseline?"
Kageyama went rigid. He tucked the ball under his arm so tightly it looked like it might pop. He remembered Nic’s lesson from the photo shoot, thinking of something good.
He thought about the perfect whoosh of a jump serve. He attempted to "squinch" his eyes as Nic had taught him.
He ended up baring his teeth in a jagged line while his eyes narrowed into what could only be described as a "predator-about-to-strike" glare.
The reporter physically recoiled, her smile faltering as she looked confused and nervous. "ummm…"
From the sidelines, Romero lost it, clutching his stomach.
"Tobio! Stop! You’re going to make her drop the microphone!"
Kageyama snapped out of it, his face flushing. "I was doing the 'squinch'! You told me to do the squinch!"
"You looked like you were weighing the pros and cons of tackling her!" Nic wheezed, walking over to save the poor woman.
He stepped into the frame with his signature, effortless charm, immediately diffusing the tension.
"Forgive him," Nic said, flashing a dazzling, genuine smile at the camera that made the cameraman sigh in relief.
"Our setter is a genius on the court, but his 'friendly face' is still under construction." Nic stayed right there, keeping a heavy grip on Kageyama’s shoulder to keep him from fleeing.
"Deep breath, Tobio," Nic whispered, loud enough for the mic to catch.
"Don't try to win the interview. Just answer the lady. Look at me, not the lens."
Kageyama looked at Romero. The veteran’s presence was calming, reminded him they were just talking about volleyball, the one thing he actually understood.
"I just... want to hit the spot I aimed for," Kageyama muttered, his face finally relaxing into its natural, neutral state. It wasn't a "model" smile, but it was honest.
Nic patted his back firmly.
"There he is. See? No teeth required."
As the reporter moved on to interview Hoshiumi, Nic leaned into Kageyama’s space.
"We’re going to work on 'The Nod' next. Your current nod looks like you’re trying to headbutt someone."
Kageyama groaned. "I hate TV."
🏐🏐🏐
The camera crew was taking a five-minute break to swap out their battery packs, giving Nic a narrow window of opportunity.
He looked at Kageyama, who was currently rubbing his jaw as if it had seized up like a rusted engine.
"Tobio, Come here."
Kageyama looked suspicious. "What? I'm practicing my 'relaxed' look."
"You still look like a gargoyle," Nic countered, beckoning him over.
"The problem isn't your brain, it's your muscles. You’re an athlete, right? You warm up your hamstrings, you warm up your shoulders... but your face is stiff. We need to stretch it."
Before Kageyama could process the logic or lack thereof, Nic stepped into his personal space. Being a fellow Alpha, Nic had no qualms about bypassing Kageyama’s intimidating aura.
He reached up and placed his thumbs at the corners of Kageyama’s mouth.
"Romero-san! Whath are you—"
Kageyama’s protest was muffled as Nic firmly hooked his fingers and stretched.
Nic pulled the corners of Kageyama’s mouth outward toward his ears.
"See? This is where the tension is. You’re holding all your stress in your face muscles." Romero then gently pushing Kageyama's cheeks upward to force a "chipmunk" look.
"And here. If these don't move, you look like a statue."
Kageyama’s hands flew up, grabbing Nic’s wrists, but he didn't pull away, partly out of respect for his senior, and partly because he was genuinely confused.
"Ith hurt-th!" Kageyama mumbled through distorted lips. "Shtop touching my fache!"
"Your face need to be flexible, Tobio," Nic laughed, ignoring the murderous glare. He began kneading Kageyama’s cheeks with his palms like he was working a batch of pizza dough.
"Relax. If you bite me, I’m telling the coach you’re the reason the team's media presence is failing."
After a good thirty seconds of face kneading, Nic finally let go.
Kageyama stumbled back a step, his face bright red and his cheeks looking slightly puffy from the "massage."
"There," Nic said, incredibly proud of himself.
"Try it now. Just a small, natural lift." Kageyama huffed, feeling his face tingle.
He looked toward the reflection in the equipment room window. He tried a small smile. Because his muscles were actually warmed up and tired out, the usual intensity was gone.
It was a soft, slightly dazed, and remarkably human expression.
"Oh! That was actually good!" Nic cheered, clapping his hands.
"My face feels like it was hit by a volleyball," Kageyama grumbled, gingerly touching his jaw.
"That’s the feeling of charisma, Tobio. Get used to it," Nic winked.
"Now, back to the camera. If you mess up, I'm coming back for round two."
Kageyama practically sprinted toward the reporter, terrified of another "facial warm-up" from the veteran.
🏐🏐🏐
The reporter was finally getting something usable. Kageyama’s face was still a bit flushed from Nic’s "massage".
"So, Kageyama-senshu," the reporter said.
"Who is the one person you’re most excited to play against this season?"
Kageyama opened his mouth to give a standard, stiff answer about "the next opponent," but his eyes suddenly darted toward the entrance of the practice gym.
The heavy double doors swung open, and a blur of orange hair barged into the room.
"Kageyama!! You forgot your bento again, you idiot!" Hinata skidded across the gym floor, holding a wrapped lunch box aloft like a trophy.
He was loud, sweaty from his own practice, and completely oblivious to the fact that a national news crew was currently filming.
"I told you three times this morning!" Hinata shouted, sliding to a halt in front of the startled setter.
"If you don't eat, you’ll lose your focus, and then I’ll beat you even faster next time we—oh. Are you doing a commercial? You look weird. Why is your face so red?"
In an instant, the transformation happened.
The tension in Kageyama’s shoulders vanished. The defensive posture he usually held for the public melted away.
He looked at Hinata, and his face did something it hadn't done all morning: moved on its own.
A real smile broke across Kageyama’s face. It wasn't the "friendly" smile the photographer wanted but a "Shoyo-I'm-going-to-crush-you" smile.
Click. Click. Click.
And zoom.
The cameraman was having a field day.
"Keep that! That’s it! That’s the passion!" Nic stood back, crossing his arms over his chest with a knowing smirk.
He watched as Kageyama reached out, snatched the bento from Hinata’s hand, and started a muffled argument about who the "real idiot" was.
"So," Nic whispered to himself, his patient mentor-vibe turning into pure amusement.
"The secret to the King's heart and his facial muscles is a noisy little Ninja Shoyo from the MSBY Black Jackals. Why am I not surprised?"
Kageyama, realizing the cameras were still rolling, tried to revert to his "scary face," but Hinata was already poking his cheek.
"Romero-san said your face was stiff!" Hinata chirped, grinning up at Kageyama.
"He’s right, you look like a grumpy grandpa!"
"Shut up, Hinata! I’ll kill you!" Kageyama barked, but he couldn't hide the soft curve of his lips.
Nic walked over, patting Hinata on the shoulder. "Thanks for the assist, Shoyo-kun. I was about to have to start stretching his ears next."
"No problem, Romero-san!" Hinata beamed.
Kageyama looked between his veteran teammate and his "best friend," feeling thoroughly teamed up on.
🏐🏐🏐
The Schweiden Adlers’ PR department had never seen anything like it.
After the footage from that practice went viral showing a relaxed, actually human Kageyama Tobio, they came to a unanimous, albeit slightly desperate, conclusion.
A new clause was unofficially added to the Adlers’ media handbook: Invite Hinata Shoyo, MSBY Black Jackals.
The next time a major sports magazine arrived for a feature, Nic didn't even bother trying to massage Kageyama’s face.
He just have to pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.
Ten minutes later, Hinata Shoyo was ushered into the gym by the Adlers' staff as if he were a visiting dignitary.
He was wearing his MSBY tracksuit, looking confused but excited.
"Why am I here again?" Hinata asked, hopping on his heels.
"And why did Romero-san promise me premium grilled meat if I just stand behind the tripod?" Nic leaned down, whispering conspiratorially.
"Because, Shoyo-kun, our King here has the social grace of a wet brick. You are his 'emotional support rival.' Just... exist. Maybe make a stupid face if he starts looking like a serial killer again."
The photographer set up.
Kageyama took his position, immediately beginning to stiffen. His jaw locked. His eyes started that familiar, terrifying "searching for a target" squint.
"Okay, Kageyama-san, look into the lens and—"
"BAKAYAMA!" Hinata yelled from behind the lighting umbrella.
He stuck his tongues out and pulled his eyelids down "You look like you’re constipated! Is that the face of a top-tier setter? My grandma has a more intimidating face than that!"
Kageyama’s head snapped toward Hinata. "What did you say, boke?! I’ll toss you into the ceiling!"
"Then do it! But do it without looking like a gargoyle!" Kageyama let out a frustrated huff of laughter, his face breaking into a perfectly natural expression.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Nic stood off to the side, sipping an espresso and watching the magic happen.
Whenever Kageyama’s smile faltered, Hinata would shout something about a "fast break" or "meat buns," and Kageyama would instantly react with a genuine emotion, usually irritation, but on camera, it translated to "charismatic passion."
The photographer was delighted.
"He’s so expressive! Why were we told he was difficult?"
Nic chuckled, stepping over to the PR manager. "Make sure we clear a spot for the kid in the budget. From now on, whenever there's a camera, we need a Shoyo."
🏐🏐🏐
As the crew packed up, Kageyama walked over to Hinata, looking exhausted. His face actually felt tired from moving so much.
"You're loud," Kageyama grumbled, though he handed Hinata a sports drink.
"And you're a hand-full!" Hinata retorted, grinning.
"Romero-san says I'm the 'Kageyama-Whisperer' now. It's a very important job."
Nic draped his arms over both their shoulders, he looks like a proud (and relieved) father.
"It’s perfect. Kageyama gets his photos, Hinata gets his grilled meat, and I don't have to spend my afternoon stretching a grumpy setter’s cheeks."
Kageyama paused, looking at Nic.
"Wait... the grilled meat is coming out of my paycheck?!"
Nic winked at Tobio.
"Consider it a consulting fee, Tobio."
The end
