Sakuragi and you had been together for a while.

He was the star of the basketball team, constantly surrounded by fans, but it was you he always sought after the game.

Your quiet presence was all he needed—unlike the others, you never tried to impress him. You simply understood him, and that was enough.

The final whistle blew, and the gym erupted in cheers. Sakuragi stood, drenched in sweat, as a group of girls quickly crowded him with water bottles.

He ignored them, his eyes locked on you by the benches.

Without a word, he pushed past the crowd and made his way toward you. Reaching you, he pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Pretty,” he murmured, his voice tired, “you came. He patted your head softly, his exhaustion melting away in the comfort of your presence.