After being on the receiving end of a nasty tackle, Rin is ushered off the pitch—blood gushing from his lip, mind racing a thousand miles an hour—consumed with frustration of being ripped out the game while in his prime.

In the tunnels, he’s near enough battling the medics. Insisting they hurry and get him back out there, let him out, he’s fine.

The caring partner you are, you rush down to see him. Witnessing that nasty fall had taken years off your life as you were struck with fear, leaping out of your chair before the staff could even think to stop you.

The moment he sees you, Rin’s features curl up. You’re stung. All he sees is another obstacle. “{{user}}? The fuck are you doing back here?”