courage dear heart | Yuki Ishikawa

25

After our shower, we got dressed for the game. I slipped back into my skirt and shoes, but this time, I wore his black jersey. He, on the other hand, had on his red national team uniform.

He stared at me, his gaze intense. I tilted my head, teasing. "What is it?"

He cupped my face in his hands. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you in my jersey. I can't wait to see you cheering for me." He gave me a quick peck on the lips making me smile "Now, let's go."

I grabbed my cap, and we headed out to meet the others, who were waiting for us in the underground parking lot.

We were the last to board the bus.

"Finally! Thought you two would never show up!" one of his teammates called out, chuckling.

"Sorry, guys," Yuki said, sitting down next to me.

Ayumu, who was seated in front of us, turned around and grinned. "Look, Chō!" He pointed to the Japanese flags painted on his cheeks.

I stifled a laugh. "Nice. Did you do that yourself?"

"Why are you laughing? I don't have my man's jersey to wear, so I had to improvise! Hiro helped me, though."

Hearing Yuki referred to as my "man" stirred something warm inside me.

Yuki chimed in, laughing. "I could always ask Tomo to give you one of his jerseys, since he's your idol."

Ayumu's eyes lit up. "Yes! And I'll steal one of Chō's shirts for you!"

I frowned at him. "You know I can hear you, right?" He winked. "I'm sure it'd make you happy, Chō."

Yuki chuckled. "Deal!"

Satisfied, Ayumu turned back around, and we settled into the ride.

When we arrived at the arena, the team got off first to greet the fans, while we headed to the parking lot with some of the staff to help carry gear for the players.

Inside, the pre-game atmosphere was electric.
the energy hit me like a wave. The air was thick with anticipation, buzzing with excitement from the crowd.
The arena was full, completely different from the first game of Yuki's I had attended. Fans were waving Japanese flags, holding up signs, and even pictures of the players' faces.

The four of us followed the staff's instructions, placing the equipment near the benches. Being this close to the court felt different from sitting in the stands; even though I wasn't playing I could feel the focus and tension of the players as they warmed up.

Yuki's name was called out from the crowd repeatedly, and I wondered how he managed to stay so concentrated with so many voices shouting for him. He seemed completely unfazed, almost oblivious to the noise.

The team manager came over to show us to our seats, and we found ourselves in the front row, right in the center, with a perfect view of the court.

Unlike the last time, I felt a bit more nervous.

Maybe because now I know who I'm really rooting for—and I want them to win so badly?

I watched them warm up, focusing on the stretches Yuki had told me he always did before a game. He always followed the same routine, so I quietly observed him as he went through each step.

Wow, even his eyes are working out.

As they moved on to spike drills, the crowd erupted with each powerful hit. The energy was infectious, and for a moment, the noise was overwhelming.

In the midst of the chaos, I overheard someone behind me say, "Isn't that the Ishikawa's official jersey?"

I tensed.