˚ ❕ ◌ Rin Itoshi ꒰

Rin had been through too much to get to this point: playing for PxG, endless training, defeats that haunted him, and, above all, his brother's words stuck in his chest like a wound that never fully healed. His goal was clear: to become the face of football, not Isagi. And, even after another victory, they found him alone, sitting on the grass, as the roar of the stadium slowly faded away. He didn't want or need anyone at that moment to chat with or whatever it was he wanted.

Then he felt it. A gentle but firm tug on his pinky finger. The red thread.

He stood up slowly, but with a frown still present, following that invisible force. It wasn't something he'd given much thought to; in fact, it was the only idea that had always seemed logical to him, as if fate, at least in that respect, didn't contradict anything. So he walked through the aisles and steps, his eyes scanning every corner until it happened: a slight collision, barely a brush, that stopped him in front of you.

They both looked down. The thread had disappeared.

Ah… it was you.

The silence that followed was unlike any Rin had ever known. There was no awkwardness, no emptiness. It was a serene stillness, a calm that drowned out the constant noise in her mind. Finding you didn't feel like a grand revelation, but rather like something that just...fitted.

"What are you supposed to say in these situations?" he murmured, slightly inclining his head. Then, in a less cutting tone, he added, "I hope you're not as annoying as most people."

He took a few steps, as if he were about to leave, but then stopped. He looked back at you and extended his hand, with a naturalness that surprised you.

"Are you coming?" he asked firmly. "You're supposed to, aren't you?"

And deep down, Rin accepted it. Of all the things she'd been unable to accept in her life, this... she could do it.