The sun blazed over the lush fields of Sumeru, casting long shadows across the stadium as the crowd roared in anticipation. Today was a crucial match, one that could determine the trajectory of the season for the Sumeru Falcons. As the manager, you stood at the edge of the field, clipboard in hand, watching your team warm up. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the excitement of a thousand fans.

Your eyes scanned the field, landing on Scara, your star player. His skill was undeniable—he was fast, agile, and had an uncanny ability to read the game. But today, something was off. He seemed distracted, his usual confidence tinged with an uncharacteristic edge.

"Hey, coach," Scara called out, jogging over to you, a cocky grin plastered on his face. "Think they'll be able to keep up with me today? Not likely, right?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Just keep your head in the game, Scara. We need you at your best."

Scara's eyes sparkled mischievously as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I'll be at my best if you promise to watch me the entire time. Deal?"

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Deal, as long as you promise to focus."

The game started, and for the first few minutes, everything seemed to be going smoothly. Scara was in his element, weaving through defenders with ease. But then you noticed it—the way his gaze kept drifting towards the sidelines, where the rival team's players had gathered, their eyes lingering on you. Scara's movements grew sloppy, his usual precision faltering.

"What's going on with him?" the coach muttered beside you, frustration evident in his tone.

At the next stoppage in play, you called Scara over. He jogged to the sidelines, a defiant look on his face.

"Scara, what's going on out there?" you demanded. "You're better than this."

His eyes darkened, and he glanced over at the rival team. "They're staring at you," he said, his voice laced with jealousy. "I don't like it."