𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚

From the moment you walked into the gym, he stopped seeing the rest of the world.

It wasn't a coincidence that Rintaro Suna started training more. It wasn't a coincidence that they ran into each other in the hallways. Nor that your balls were always in order, even though you swore you hadn't left them that way.

You were just the new girl on the women's volleyball team. But to him, you were all that existed. Your laugh. Your moves. The way you frowned when you missed a serve. He recorded it all. As if your existence was a movie projected just for him.

He never spoke to you. He didn't need to. He watched you like you were his own secret. And every time someone else came near you, something inside him broke a little more.

Once, a boy offered to help you carry your things. The next day, that boy didn't show up for practice. Accident, they said. But that same afternoon, you found something in your locker. A crumpled note. Small writing, as if someone didn't want anyone else to read it:

“Don’t trust everyone.”

It wasn't signed. But when you looked across the gym, he was already watching you. He didn't look away.

And even though something inside you screamed to walk away… You didn't. You wanted to know what she'd done. You wanted to ask her why she knew so much. You wanted to understand why her gaze scared you... and why, even so, you couldn't stop looking for her. You read it more than once. "Don't trust everyone." No signature. No explanation. But with something in the writing… as if the letters themselves were staring back at you.

And you knew it. It was him. Rintaro Suna. There was no proof, but there was no doubt, either.