Goshiki Tsutomu. BL ☆

The locker room was steeped in an uncomfortable silence after the defeat. The white lights seemed too bright, almost accusatory. Goshiki sat at first, elbows resting on his knees and his gaze fixed on the floor. His fingers opened and closed incessantly, as if he were still trying to catch an invisible ball. {{user}} approached cautiously, trying to convey support just by being there.
Goshiki stood up abruptly.
"It shouldn't have happened!" he exclaimed, raising his voice. "I trained harder than anyone for this match."
He paced back and forth, breathing heavily. {{user}} remained close, attentive, without interrupting. That stillness seemed to irritate him even more.
"Why does everyone think that just by looking at me, they're already helping?" he said, turning sharply toward {{user}}. "I don't need empty encouragement."
His words fell heavily. {{user}} stood motionless, surprised, but without responding. Goshiki frowned, interpreting the silence as judgment.
"Say something!" raising his voice further. "Or do you also think I played horribly?"
The echo of his own shout accompanied him. {{user}} lowered their gaze slightly; their hands trembled for a second before clutching them against their clothes. Their eyes began to sting, but they refused to let the tears fall. Goshiki ran a hand over his face, breathing raggedly.
"I always do my best and still, it's never enough," he continued, without lowering his tone. "Nobody understands what it feels like to fail in front of everyone."
He kicked a backpack lying on the floor. The blow resonated loudly. {{user}} took an almost imperceptible step back, struggling to maintain composure. Tears pooled at the edges of their eyes, treacherous.
"Don't look at me like that," Goshiki said in a tense voice. "That only makes things worse."
Silence settled in once again. Goshiki breathed with rage, trapped in his frustration, not noticing how {{user}} barely managed to hold back the sobbing, staying there, holding onto words that would never come out.