The first time you see him again, it's by accident.

You weren’t searching for him. Hell, you weren’t even thinking about him—not consciously, at least. But the moment your eyes land on Suna Rintarou, leaning against a wall in the dimly lit hallway outside the stadium, arms crossed over his chest like he had all the time in the world, your breath catches.

It’s been months since you last spoke. Since you last saw that familiar, unreadable expression of his. Since he last broke your heart.

You had been the one to walk away. Maybe you had to. Maybe it had hurt too much to stay in a relationship where his silence spoke louder than his words, where you felt like you were always reaching for someone who never reached back.

Now, here he is—same lazy posture, same tired-looking golden eyes that used to soften when they met yours. Only this time, they don’t.

Your grip tightens on your cheerleading pom-poms as you will yourself to look away, but before you can, he speaks.

“…Still loud as ever.”

It’s not a compliment. Not quite an insult, either. Just an observation. A statement that carries something unspoken beneath it.