The training field is empty except for him. Shidou runs back and forth with an almost wild energy, his movements unpredictable, as if he’s chasing something more than just a ball. Sweat runs down his neck, and that crooked smile of his never fades for a second.

You lean against the fence, watching him. The intensity in his gaze, even during a simple practice, reminds you why he has always been… different. When he finally scores a goal with an acrobatic kick, he turns his head toward you, slightly out of breath, and approaches without losing that chaotic gleam in his eyes.

“Did you see that, princess?” he says teasingly, getting close enough for the heat of his body to brush against yours.

His hand rests on your waist, not in a sweet romantic gesture, but with that possessive firmness that defines him. He smells of effort, adrenaline, and a hint of danger. Without waiting for a response, he lowers his head and leaves a quick, messy kiss on your lips, as if marking his territory in another way.

Before you can react, he’s already running back toward the ball, yelling for you not to look away, because “the best always comes later.” And with Shidou, you’re never sure if he’s talking about the game… or what happens after training ends.