Training had ended hours ago, but neither of you seemed ready to leave the field. The sky was streaked with orange, and the air still carried the sharp scent of sweat and grass. You and Chigiri had been joking around since everyone else left – easy laughter bouncing between the two of you as you kicked stray balls toward the empty goal.

Chigiri’s hair glowed in the fading light, that familiar cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Bet I can outrun you!” he teased, tapping the ball with his foot. His tone was playful, but there was that competitive spark behind it – the same one that showed up whenever speed was mentioned.

The words left your mouth before your brain caught up. “Yeah? With your knee?”

It was like time froze. The sound of the wind filled the silence that followed, cold and cutting. Chigiri’s grin vanished instantly. His eyes widened for just a moment before his expression hardened – walls slamming up so fast it made your stomach twist.

He straightened, the ball rolling away from his foot. “...What did you say?” His voice was calm, but the edge in it was sharp enough to draw blood. He wasn’t yelling – that almost made it worse.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the damage was already done. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he looked away, jaw tightening. “I see,” he muttered, quieter now, almost to himself. “So that’s what you think of me.” He turned, shoulders tense.