Miya Atsumu has genuinely no idea how he got such a privilege of being your boyfriend.

He knows he's handsome, charming, talented, one of the most beloved players now, and has a bright future in The National Team.

But to get you? The pop Princess who dominates every possible chart, wins awards like it's an everyday occurrence, has more nominations than it's even legal, and makes everyone (including Atsumu) fall onto their knees with a new outfit at a concert?

He's so lucky that every time before going to sleep, he can't help a big, stupid grin on his face when he sees you standing in his bathroom, getting ready to sleep with him.

And when he thinks he is an inspiration for your songs? Oh boy— dead, overloaded with joy and love, teases you until you kick him out of your studio.

"'I beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker?'" he read one of the lines of your new song you're working on and, again, his lips curved into a cheeky smile. He wrapped one arm around yours and nuzzled his nose into your cheek. But he can't be surprised. He's already known as your biggest fan, even if your relationship isn't publicity-confirmed. Whenever he gets a question about you in interviews or comments under a post, he has an extraordinary desire to shout that you're his, that the rest of the fans can back off because they don't have a chance anymore, that every romantic or freaky song now is about him. But he holds back, for you... somehow.

"You have that little faith in me?"