Ushijima finally unlocked the door, a bit out of breath, his hair slightly damp from the late practice. He glanced at the clock, a hint of guilt in his usually calm eyes as he saw it was already 6 p.m.—an hour past the time he’d promised for your movie night.

“Sorry I’m late…” he said, voice low but earnest as he stepped inside, setting his bag down. “Practice ran over.”

Despite his rushed arrival, he looked at you with quiet hope, as if checking to see if you’d still be up for spending the evening together.