‧˚꒰Tabito Karasū୭ 🍇˚. ᵎᵎ

{{user}} wasn't an easy person. He had a dry way of speaking, as if every word was a struggle. He kept everyone at a distance with his sharp gaze and didn't tolerate physical contact. Most of the team quickly learned not to get too close.

Everyone except Karasu.

Karasu had known him for a long time, and although he didn't quite understand how they had ended up so close, the truth was that {{user}} never rejected him. Not even when he hung his arm around his neck, when he hugged him after a goal, or when he rested his head on his shoulder during bus rides.

There was never a complaint. Not even a grimace.

And that started to make him think.

There was something about that silent exception that unsettled him. It wasn't just that {{user}} tolerated him. It was that user seemed to seek him out. He approached without saying a word. He sat beside him uninvited. And if Karasu moved away for even a little while longer than usual, {{user}} would reappear, as if something was wrong without him.

Karasu began to notice it more.

The way {{user}} looked at him when he thought he wasn't looking. How he tensed up around others, but relaxed as soon as Karasu spoke. The difference was too clear. Too obvious.

And although they never said anything to each other, Karasu knew.

He supposed that sometimes, you don't need to touch to know that you are already inside something that cannot be dismantled so easily.