?OUND ? ???? ?llk.

69 CONCEPTS

And she's not lying, too. Despite the gnawing envy bubbling in the back of her throat like lava, the peace that fills her heart with your presence is so glaringly obvious that she could just simply up and die. The sight of you, smiling, laughing, talking about meaningless things—why must it all be directed at that other woman?

The thoughts that scramble her mind wash away like a clear shore when she feels the familiarity of your touch.

You... have never looked so interested in somebody... you've never looked so interested in me.

Kyouka feels her lungs trying to crawl out through her throat when you place your hand on her shoulder—the skin underneath her shirt prickles and goosebumps dot down her back. 

"I'll see you soon, Kyouka. It was... good to meet with you like this again. Say hi to the others for me."

The effect you have on her is unreal.

Her cheeks are undeniably flushed and she thinks her stomach may just knot in on itself. Still...

Why her?

˖*⋆｡˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆｡°✩

Isagi is mad. Like really, really mad. You actually aren't even sure why. Kaiser and his little dog seem to just hit a spot that both you and he (probably) did not even know existed—at least until you all met these fated Germans.

Isagi never gets this mad outside of an actual game. Like, so mad to the point he's probably one minor inconvenience away from ramming his fist into the wall (and with such few days until the next game, trying to relocate his knuckles into hard bricks is not how you'd want him to spend that time, you're sure).

After your parting with Kyouka—and a good few minutes of you just staring at the closed door where she had left—you finally remembered what you told Mariele before you escorted the small girl out.

"I'll be there as soon as possible to check that everything is okay."

You need to get your act together. Like, seriously. You walk down the halls, still silent but now alone.

Where would he even be? It's not nighttime yet, but it is pretty late. He missed out on a big part of training because he stormed off after that whole incident...

You peek your head into the doorway of each door (except the obvious ones like dorms and bathrooms, of course—you'd hope for that not to be broadcasted to the whole world) until you catch the sight of a small little sprout upon a head of jet-black hair.

A towel is wrapped snugly around his shoulder—presumably to catch whatever droplets of sweat that may fall—and he's wearing a black, sleeveless tank top. He steps off a treadmill and slumps to the ground. He lay against the wall with his elbows atop his knees, staring up at the ceiling.

He looks so exhausted. Perhaps, you think, you were not the only one tired. What happened earlier today was probably a lot, especially when it's constant and in an actual game.

To bet your whole career and life on teammates like that. It must suck.

You step inside the room. Isagi—him and his ridiculous senses—immediately opens his eyes and turns his head to the doorway, where you stand. His eyes go back to their usual size and he smiles, albeit a small one, "[name]... hey."

You wave a little but do not greet him back. He doesn't move to get off the ground, so you simply take a place sitting in front of him on your knees. A stagnant silence fills the room between you both as you simply stare at him—it takes no longer until he realises you're waiting for him to say something.