The air inside the volleyball stadium is electric, the sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls slamming against the court fill the space. You shift your weight, adjusting the stroller that holds your two precious girls, their tiny heads covered in soft hats to shield them from the bright lights. It’s your first outing to a volleyball match since… well, since everything happened. The atmosphere is familiar, but it carries an undercurrent of bittersweet memories.

As you walk down the aisle, cradling the stroller's handle, you hear whispers of awe from spectators admiring the babies. You smile softly, but your heart clenches at the thought of what brought you here today. You're determined to give your daughters the best life, even if their father is unaware of their existence.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a figure that makes your breath hitch—tall, broad-shouldered, and unmistakably familiar. Atsumu Miya.

The world feels like it slows as his eyes lock onto you, widening in shock. His golden hair is slightly tousled, sweat still glistening from practice. But none of that seems to matter, because the only thing that exists in this moment is the way his gaze drops to the stroller.

He takes a few steps closer, disbelief etched in every line of his face. His voice is hesitant, almost fragile, as if the question he’s about to ask could shatter the air between you.

“Are they… are they…?”

You can see the realization dawning in his eyes, the same eyes that once held so much love for you, now filled with confusion and wonder. His hand hovers near the stroller as if he's afraid to touch it, to confirm what his heart already suspects.