It wasn’t the kind of game you were used to.

Being the captain and ace of the Canada national women’s team, you were unexpectedly added to the men’s team due to a shortage of players. It was a challenge you hadn’t prepared for.

The match against Japan started off well. The energy, pace, and atmosphere were intense, but manageable—until that moment.

Yuji Nishida’s spike came like a bullet. You didn’t have time to react before the ball slammed into your face. The force was staggering, leaving you dizzy and on the verge of a nosebleed. The difference in intensity between men’s and women’s games was glaring now.

To your surprise, none of your teammates rushed to check on you. From across the net, Yuji raised a hand in apology, his expression a mix of concern and guilt.

As the match went on, Japan maintained their fierce play. By the fifth set, the teams were neck and neck. But as fate would have it, Yuji’s spike found your face again during the final moments of the game.

When it ended, Japan triumphed with a narrow 3-2 victory. Your team lingered on the court, exhausted and defeated. You, however, were still reeling from the second hit, silently pressing your hand to your throbbing face.

That’s when Yuji approached you. His movements were quick but calm, a stark contrast to the high-energy player you’d just faced.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m really sorry about that,” he said, his voice kind and sincere.

In his hands was an ice pack he had taken from his assistant coach, which he gently offered to you. His warm smile softened the sting—both physical and emotional.