He pauses, reminiscing. “Karasuno was where I learned that volleyball is about more than just scoring points. It’s about connection—trusting that someone will be there to receive your pass, that someone will cover your back. Without them, I’d never have made it to Brazil. Or here.” Even now, years later, you can feel the weight of those memories in the way he talks about them.

He pauses for a moment, then breaks into a grin. “But I’m not done yet,” he says with sudden conviction. “I still want to get better. Every match, every jump, I catch myself thinking, what’s next?”

Hinata leans back slightly, the smile still playing on his lips. When asked about the transition to professional volleyball, his expression turns serious for a moment.

“Honestly, it was tough,” he admits. “When I went to Brazil, I didn’t know the language, I didn’t know anyone. I thought, ‘Did I really make the right decision? The right time? What am I even doing here?’ There were times I felt so small—not because of my height, but because I didn’t feel like I belonged. I was a complete stranger to the people, the culture. If I can be candid, I cried a lot in private. But every day I still got up and worked and played. And little by little, I started to find my rhythm.”

“Oh, Yoshimoto-san, can you write down that I said hi to Pedro? He was my roommate!” he calls, waving as if to someone off camera. “I’m going to get you that signature from Oda-san, I promise!”

Turns out, One Piece was how they first formed their friendship. Back in Japan, it would be the kind of topic he would be able to talk about with almost anyone in school, but hearing it mentioned halfway across the world in Brazil felt like a lifeline. A much-needed reminder that yes, he was a stranger in this country, but that was only because he didn’t take the chance to know it yet. Morale restored, he further pursued what drew him to the country in the first place: beach volleyball.

The years abroad were transformative and priceless, and they prepared him for his current role with the Black Jackals. Hinata practically shoots upright. “Oh man, beach volleyball was so hard,” he whines, making a dramatic flopping motion with his arms. “Like, every step feels like you’re sinking into quicksand. You try to jump and it’s like—boooof!” He mimics a heavy thud, then laughs at himself.

“It really helped me though,” he continues, gesturing animatedly. “You can’t slack off. There are only two of you out there, so if you mess up—bam!—the ball’s already on the floor. You have to read everything faster, move faster. It made me way quicker on my feet.”

He pauses, scrunching up his face as if remembering the sting of diving in sand. “And sand burns hurt! But it made me tougher. Every dive, every jump was harder, but because of that, I felt like my body got stronger, and my brain too. Like, if I can keep up here, then maybe I can keep up anywhere. Plus,” he adds, cheeky, “The tan I got was pretty cool.”

For all the grumbling and goofy sound effects, his grin is unmistakable. “It kinda gave me a second love for volleyball. Indoor is still my heart, but beach volleyball taught me how to push through when things feel impossible. Even if I’m sinking—literally sinking—I just keep running anyway. I don’t think I would be where I am now if I hadn’t taken that leap,” Hinata says. “It’s scary, but if you never take chances, you’ll never know how far you can go. I’ll always take Brazil with me.”

[Photo: Hinata holds his old volleyball in one hand, the other gently resting on his engagement ring. The light makes the ring gleam. His past and present, personal and professional.]

The phone rings as his phone lights up. “That's just Tobio.” Hinata says after sheepishly sending a quick text. He is referring to Kageyama Tobio, the 21 years old setter for the Schweiden Adlers and now-fiancé of Hinata himself. Kageyama’s public proposal, set right after the Jackals-Adlers match, had shocked everyone, including Hinata. “I just couldn’t believe it. Half of me thought he was joking but Tobio doesn’t joke around like that. But still, I—” He covers his face with his hands. His next words are muffled, then he breathes in and out and places his palms together. When probed about Kageyama, the topic makes him laugh nervously again, a harsh contrast from the Hinata that was practically jumping with excitement to recreate how he had to jump on his toes because the sand was so hot in tropical Brazil. This Hinata is shyer, though his grin is the same size. “People think Tobio and I are so different, and maybe that’s true. He’s more serious, for sure, I’m more… me,” he gestures vaguely, “but somehow we understand each other better than anyone else could. He sees me exactly as I am. Sometimes I want to smack him because he’s too blunt, but at the same time, that’s why I trust him. He doesn’t hold back. He makes me better.”

Their engagement has been met with overwhelming support from fans and teammates alike, though Hinata confesses he never expected it to happen so publicly. Kageyama, as described by Hinata, is not a person who is big on PDA (that stands for Public Displays of Affection, for those over 40 years old). “It did shock me.” He says, though I don’t think anyone would have doubted that. The clips from their very public proposal, taken from all angles by strangers that whipped out their phone as soon as Kageyama got down on one knee, showed the orange-haired opposite hitter with his mouth wide open for an uncomfortably tense and uncharacteristically quiet 14 seconds. Everyone held their breath. Kageyama was visibly sweating, swallowing, before Hinata jumped in his arms and both of the teams (and the audience) cheered louder than after the Jackals won.

“I understand you and Kageyama met—”

“In middle school, yeah! Though we weren’t exactly friends back then.”

I didn’t ask him to elaborate further. Who doesn’t know the start of their relationship? They’ve trended so many times over the years, their story asked by interviewers over and over—they started first as rivals who could barely stand each other, then as teammates with their Freak Quick, and now as professionals whose names are almost always said together. To the public, their story feels almost myth-like: two teenage prodigies clashing on the court, pushing each other past every limit, and somehow ending up here, years later, engaged and smiling like it was inevitable and the world just had to play catch up to their potential, to their story.

He touches the ring on his finger before continuing, “It’s one of those things where you’re like, ‘Oh. I should have expected this. It feels right.’ Like it feels natural, but it still hits you by surprise. It’s like a sunset, in a way? You know it’s gonna happen but it still catches you off-guard. It’s breathtaking and beautiful and…” He trails off, smiling at the gold shining on his finger. It is a private moment, so I don’t interrupt. Instead, I take the time to observe at his living room.

Family photos decorate every shelf, especially filled with Hinata and his younger sister Natsu’s smiling faces. There’s a calendar tacked on in the corner of the room. It’s unmarked, so I guessed it’s something that was placed more for habit’s sake and less for the practicality of seeing what day it is. There’s a pleasant smell of freshly washed laundry drying on the rack outside. It’s a humble home, but one that boasts an incredible sense of warmth. These are the small, ordinary comforts that make Hinata Shoyo who he is: open, eager, and endlessly genuine.

“In hindsight, I don’t know why it surprised me so much. It’s like something we were always running towards it without realizing it.”

When asked what he thinks about “finding the right chances”—a phrase that has followed him since high school—Hinata pauses, considering. “People always wait for the perfect opportunity, but I don’t think that’s how it works. I think the right chances show up when you’re already moving, when you’re already chasing something with your whole heart. It’s not about luck, it’s about running toward it, even when you’re scared. That’s when the world opens up for you.”

“Finding the right chances isn’t about waiting. It’s not about luck, it's about running toward it, even when you’re scared.”

He glances out the engawa, where the last streaks of sunlight fade into the suburban horizon. “It’s like sunsets, you know. It still feels like a miracle. Brazil, Tobio, all the people I’ve met because I kept chasing—they remind me to keep running, to keep trying. I've never regretted trying.”

Even now, after his first explosive leap onto the court, Hinata Shoyo retains the same wide-eyed wonder that made fans fall in love with him since that viral Freak Quick clip of him and Kageyama. Back when they were first-year high schoolers, they had nothing but a burning rivalry, time, and a dream. Sitting across from him, it’s hard not to feel swept up in that same energy—the sense that everything is still new, still thrilling, still worth giving his all for. For all the magazine covers, sponsorships, and viral clips that orbit his name, Hinata remains startlingly normal, more eager to show off his latest favorite snack than brag about his numerous achievements.

When the interview ends, Hinata apologizes again for the “mess” in his living room and nearly trips over himself in his rush to see me off, as if there was a match starting in the next minute. He laughs, recovers, and gives me a grin, all teeth. As I step outside, the last of the sunlight stretches across the garden, glowing the same way it had when Hinata described his engagement: ordinary and miraculous all at once. He waves from the doorway. If there’s one thing certain about Hinata Shoyo, it’s that he will never stop running—toward the next match, the next challenge, the next chance to fly higher. And maybe that’s why the world can’t stop watching him.