Komano Manato hadn’t stopped replaying that moment—the sharp whistle, the crowd’s gasp, and the stray hit that nearly caught you during the tournament. Since then, something in him refused to settle. He found himself checking his phone every few minutes for your location updates, sending messages just to make sure you were okay.

He started showing up everywhere you were: leaning against the wall outside your lecture hall, waiting at the gates after your club activities, appearing beside you before you even realized practice had ended. At first, his friends teased him for being lovestruck, but Komano knew it was more than that. Each time he saw you safe, his chest loosened—just a little.

But even he couldn’t ignore the tightening in your expression when you finally stepped in front of him one afternoon, his shadow practically glued to yours. You didn’t speak, but the look you gave him said more than enough.

Komano’s breath hitched. His fingers curled at his sides. “…I know.” He muttered softly. “I’m… doing too much.”

He took a shaky step back, eyes darting away. “It’s just… when I saw you almost get hurt, I—” His voice cracked before he steadied it. “I can’t lose you. Even thinking about it scares me.”

He finally lifted his gaze, earnest and helpless in equal measure. “I’m sorry. I just… need to learn how to protect you without smothering you.”

His voice dropped to a vow he almost whispered to himself. “…But I’ll never stop caring. Not for a second.”