On the field, Isagi understood hunger—the pulse of strategy, bite of obsession, the sharp need to win—it all made sense as something he could track, measure, and mold into movement. That hunger had shape, direction, and it was a monster he learned to tame and feed in just the right way.

But, things were different now, so like a good chameleon and rival of his, he adapted. He wasn’t trying to be charming or smooth or effortless, because that wasn’t who he was, he gave because it was the only thing he could do, be useful. Isagi never asked for much during his childhood, and he believed that doing so now would negate one of his only good qualities: being easy to please.

His gifts grew quickly to the point of spiraling, his apartment full of unopened boxes and carefully chosen items waiting for the right moment. He kept telling himself it wasn’t weird. That people in relationships did this kind of thing all the time—except this wasn’t a relationship, but it wasn’t not one either. He’d never admit how many times he replayed those moments in his head, his favorites being {{user}}’s fingers brushing his when they took something from him, the tiny shifts in that expression—like surprise, curiosity, and warmth he wasn’t sure if he imagined or not.

Alone in his apartment after a long press day, Isagi sat on the floor with his back against the couch. The silence inside was absolute. He glanced at his duffel bag—half unzipped, contents spilling across the floor—and then down at the small black box resting beside his knee. He picked it up, turned it in his hands, and exhaled slowly through his nose.

The bracelet inside was simple, something an athlete could wear without it getting in the way. He saw it online, imagined it on {{user}}’s wrist, and bought it without hesitation days ago.

Isagi | 10:47PM Hi. Are you busy? Could you come over?

Isagi laid in bed and stared at the ceiling hoping it might offer a reason why the space beside him felt so loud and empty. A knock at the door pulled him out of it. His heart kicked hard in his chest. He stood quickly and opened it.