"CHANCE BALL! GO, HINATA!"

Yamaguchi shouted, looking at the match from the TV screen, he leaped from his seat, gripping his cheering paddle tightly. Clad in a Hinata-numbered jersey, he was brimming with excitement. It was amusing how quickly he’d managed to pull you, his girlfriend, into the world of volleyball since the two of you met in college.

Yamaguchi had always been the shy, humble type, even in most situations. When it came to love, his insecurities ran deeper—constantly worrying he might do something wrong and lose you. But it was precisely his sincerity, his vulnerability, and the way he tried so hard that made you stay.

Watching him in moments like this, fully immersed and unapologetically himself, only reaffirmed how precious he was to you.