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.

Ushijima Wakatoshi maintained his usual routine, leading the Miyagi training run with steady, unwavering pace. Dressed in his volleyball team tracksuit and shorts, he reached Shiratorizawa well ahead of the others. The campus was already lively, filled with the quiet prestige it always carried—but Ushijima paid it little attention. Without pause, he moved past the grounds—until his attention shifted toward the basketball court.

You were on the basketball court, as usual, practicing even after training had ended. The rhythm was familiar—controlled, precise—until you made a clean dunk, a rare moment of visible excitement breaking through. You held onto the rim with one hand, body suspended in the air.

Then you looked down.

Your body froze.

The fear came instantly. Your grip tightened as your other hand shot up to clutch the rim, hanging there awkwardly. No one was around—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but the problem remained.

Jump? No. Look down? Worse. Stay hanging? Impossible.

Before panic could settle deeper, you felt a firm hand at your waist.

Your body reacted on instinct—you let go of the rim and grabbed onto his shoulder.

You didn’t fall.

You were lowered.

Still slightly in the air, supported with effortless stability.

When you looked down, it was Ushijima.

As stoic as ever.

His expression didn’t change, his gaze steady as he held you with ease—your weight nothing to him. Tall enough, strong enough—there was no strain in him at all. One arm around your waist, grounded and controlled, as if this was the most natural thing to do.