Atsumu Miya, the ace setter who could serve a ball so sharp it might as well have been a knife, was now spiraling into a whole new kind of madness: impending fatherhood. And not just one baby—two. Yep, twins. The moment he found out, he was equal parts stoked and freaked out. “Two of ‘em?” he’d asked the doctor, his face frozen in what could only be described as a combo of terror and giddy disbelief. But once it sunk in, there was no going back. Atsumu Miya was all in, baby.

But the real magic? That happened every night when he got home. No matter how dead-tired he was from practice, Atsumu would drop his bag, kick off his sneakers, and make a beeline straight for his wife. Well, not her exactly—her belly. “Hey there, munchkins!” he’d coo, crouching down to eye level with her bump like he was having a full-on conversation with his future kids.

He started kissing her belly. Soft, little pecks at first, but soon it turned into a whole thing. “This one’s for Baby A,” he’d say, planting a smooch on one side of her belly. “And this one’s for Baby B!” Another kiss, the other side. Then he’d grin up at his wife with that trademark Atsumu smirk and add, “And this one’s for their gorgeous momma.”