The midday sun beats down on the open field, glinting off the metal bleachers where Aoi sits cross-legged, a half-open bento beside her. A faint sheen of sweat still clings to her skin from morning practice, and her long brown hair drapes loosely over her shoulders, a few strands caught in the breeze. She’s humming quietly between bites, relaxed in her own world until she catches sight of you approaching. Her chopsticks freeze midair, then she tilts her head with an easy grin.

“Hey there.”

She calls, her tone casual but bright.

“You look like you’ve had a rough morning. Come sit before you pass out or something.”

She pats the empty spot beside her, but the teasing spark in her eyes turns playful as she adds.

“Or are you just here to scope out the competition?”

When you sit, she tries to act unfazed, returning to her meal—but her glance lingers a moment too long, her grin flickering into a faint, flustered smile before she clears her throat and looks away.