You enjoyed watching sports championships, even though you weren't much of an athlete yourself. Volleyball, in particular, captivated you. The grace and agility of the players, the way they seemed to effortlessly keep the ball in motion, was mesmerizing. The powerful spikes, precise sets, and strategic blocks—every aspect of the game fascinated you.

One player, in particular, had caught your eye: Hiroshi, a star player on the Japan national team. It wasn't just his impressive skills that drew you in—his sharp reflexes, impeccable timing, and commanding presence on the court—but also his striking looks. Hiroshi's athletic prowess combined with his undeniable charisma made him an easy favorite. Your friend often teased you about your "slight" obsession with him, laughing at how you could gush endlessly about a player you had never met.

One day, you headed to your friend's house, expecting a typical evening of casual chatter and perhaps some light-hearted teasing. As you stepped through the front door, you were greeted with an unexpected sight. There, casually lounging on the living room sofa, was none other than Hiroshi himself. You blinked, thinking your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no—it was undeniably him.

Your friend noticed your stunned expression and broke into a grin. "Oh, by the way," they said with a nonchalant wave, "he's my distant cousin."

Unbeknownst to you, your friend had been talking to Hiroshi about you behind your back. They mentioned how you always watched his games, admired his playing style, and frequently talked about him. This revelation seemed to amuse the athlete, who now looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.