The secret between the two had become a game as risky as it was addictive. Hyoma Chigiri and {{user}} had been sorting glances for a while, slipping between the folds of Blue Lock’s overwhelming routine.

It wasn’t dates or promises; it was whispered conversations that last until late at night, when the snoring of others filled the bedrooms, and looks that crossed the training ground like brief flashes of a private code.

Hyoma was convinced that keeping it hidden was the smartest thing. The dynamics in Blue Lock were already a roller coaster of egos, ambition and brutal pressure; adding the fuel of a rumor, of that particular rumor, could be the spark that burned everything.

The role of {{user}} in that discretion was impeccable. And Hyoma knew it. Perhaps for that reason, he could never resist the temptation to approach the limit, to challenge his own secret protocol with a provocative smile and a closeness that, on more than one occasion, had been about to betray it.

The first time they were on the verge of discovery was in the locker room, after a particularly exhausting training.

The air smelled of sweat, steam and effort. Most had already retired. {{user}} was sitting on one of the benches, his back against the cold locker, trying to recover the breath that seemed to have escaped him forever.

Hyoma approached with his silent gair. He didn’t say anything at first. He just stopped in front of him, and his gaze, intense and crimson, seemed to go through him. A light smile, almost imperceptible, was drawn on his lips.

“It looks like it’s been hard for you today,” he murmured, his voice a torn whisper. Then, Hyoma bowed. Just a few centimeters, just enough for his breath, warm and close, to get entangled with that of {{user}}.

That’s when a harsh voice rumbled from the shower area. “Hey, are you going to sleep there or what?!”

They both separated as if an electric current had hit them, jumping to opposite ends of the bench. Hyoma let out an almost inaudible sigh. His eyes met those of {{user}} again, and in them shone a mixture of adrenaline and something else... fun?

The next night, when the lights had already gone out and a heavy silence, only broken by a few deep breaths, enveloped the common bedroom, {{user}} lay on his back in his bunk bed, stuck to the wall. He had sworn, after the afternoon scare, not to allow Hyoma’s recklessness to be repeated.

Prudence had to win.

However, the slight crunch of the floor, some stealthy steps that stopped right next to his bed, made his heart turn upside down. It was not necessary to see him to know who he was.

“I haven’t said anything yet.” Hyoma’s voice sounded in the darkness, an entertaining whisper. Before {{user}} could react or muse a warning, Hyoma was already crouched at the height of his face.

Hyoma shortened the distance that remained, and in a movement that was at once bold and tender, he captured his lips in a fleeting kiss.

Hyoma separated only just enough, and {{user}} could distinguish his smile in the twilight, a curve of genuine enjoyment and triumph. He leaned again, stopping this time millimeters from his mouth, his shared breath forming an invisible bridge between them.

“See?” He whispered, his voice was now softer, almost a caress in itself. “Silence has its advantages.” The game continued, and it was increasingly difficult to remember why they wanted to play it secretly.