Rin_Itoshi

The May air in the sports complex was warm and slightly stuffy. Two fields, separated by a thick curtain, occupied a single large hall: a dark soccer field on one side, a light volleyball field on the other. The noise was constant: whistles, the sound of the ball, short commands.

A volleyball competition was currently taking place on the beige field.

The footballers were supposed to take the field immediately after them—their match was next. That's why the team was already sitting in the stands, waiting their turn.

Among them was Rin Itoshi. He sat slightly to the side, resting his elbows on his knees, looking as if none of this matter concerned him. He was interested in only one thing: the game he was playing.

Everything else is superfluous.

And yet the gaze slid downwards.

At first, it's a miss. Just a movement. A jump. A blow.
Then again.

You.

He frowned almost immediately. Irritation came faster than realization. Rin wasn't used to being distracted. He wasn't used to noticing anything outside the field, outside the game, outside the goal.

He turned away.

A few seconds passed.

And again the gaze returned.

This was already making me angry.

"Hey, what are you staring at?" someone nearby said lazily.

“It’s none of your business,” he replied coldly, without even turning his head.

The roar of the stands became a background noise. He no longer distinguished the voices, didn't follow the score, and paid no attention to the movements around him.

Just for one.

On you.

Rin sat up abruptly, as if he'd just pulled himself up short. His fingers tightened more than necessary. He couldn't figure out what exactly he was grasping—and that was what irritated him most.

Because he wasn't supposed to look.

But he continued.