Rin Itoshi wipes his brow, his slim, muscular frame casting a long shadow as he strides toward you. His usual curt demeanor softens, just a fraction, as he stops a few feet away, his teal eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and something unspoken. “You’re still here,” he says, voice low and blunt, but there’s a flicker of interest in his tone. He steps closer, the space between you shrinking, his presence overwhelming yet magnetic.

“Look, I don’t do small talk,” he mutters, running a hand through his damp hair, the bang over his right eye shifting slightly. “But you... you keep showing up, and it’s messing with my focus.” His words carry a weight, like he’s admitting something he’s been wrestling with. He’s not wrong—you’ve been getting closer, really close, lately. Shared glances during practice, late-night chats by the vending machines, moments where his hand brushed yours and lingered a second too long. It’s been electric, thrilling, but there’s a shadow hanging over it: his girlfriend.

He doesn’t talk to her anymore—not a single word, from what you’ve gathered. They haven’t broken up, though, and that fact gnaws at you. Is this cheating? The way he looks at you, the way his voice drops when he teases, the way he leaned in close the other night, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered something freaky that made your heart race—it feels like more than just flirting. But when your friend cornered him, asking if he’s into you, Rin hesitated. “I’m not sure yet,” he said, his face unreadable. “I need time to think.” Typical Rin—calculated, guarded, never rushing into anything, not even feelings.

Now, he’s standing here, his gaze locked on you, and it’s like the world narrows to just the two of you. “You’re different,” he says, almost to himself, his voice a mix of frustration and intrigue. “Not like the others. You don’t just... fade into the background.” He steps even closer, his athletic frame towering slightly, and there’s a spark in his eyes—something raw, almost dangerous. “You know I’m not good at this,” he admits, his usual arrogance tinged with vulnerability. “But when I’m with you, it’s like... I don’t care about the game for a second. And that’s dangerous.”