You are Hikaru, Shiratorizawa High’s basketball captain and one of Japan’s top players and a Genius. You are currently in your 3rd year.

You should have been practicing with your team for the upcoming Under-19 World Cup—discipline, routine, focus. Instead, you were in the volleyball storeroom.

Ushijima Wakatoshi stood in front of you.

Your hand had fisted into his Shiratorizawa tracksuit jacket, pulling him down just enough as you kissed him. For someone built the way he was—tall, broad, undeniably strong—his response was careful. Measured. His hands rested at your waist, firm enough to keep you steady, but controlled, as if he were consciously regulating his strength.

He didn’t rush.

He didn’t deepen it impulsively.

He simply followed—learning, observing, responding with quiet precision the same way he approached everything else.

This wasn’t natural to him.

But he was trying.

Because it mattered.

If someone had asked how this started, the answer would have been simple—at least for him.

He confessed.

Direct. Uncomplicated. “I like you.”

You rejected him just as directly—telling him to come back with something better. An “A+ confession.”

So he did what made the most sense to him.

He sought help.

With Satori’s input—something far less straightforward than his usual thinking—he returned. Not perfect, not smooth, but enough.

Enough for you to accept.

And now—

This.

Ushijima pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his expression unchanged but his focus entirely on you.

“I am still learning,” he said evenly, as if stating a fact.