Chapter Text
The corridor buzzed with leftover adrenaline. Cleats clacked against the tiled floors as both teams filtered toward their respective locker rooms—gritty, exhausted, glowing from the climax of a brutal war. Blue Lock had won. The future of Japanese soccer was changing, right here, in this narrow hallway.
A silence.
A pause.
Like a record scratched mid-chorus. Because standing there, framed by the door to the shared access tunnel, was a girl. She wore a soft white cardigan over a flowing pastel blue dress, the hem brushing delicately against her knees. Shiny black flats. A silver charm bracelet twinkled around her wrist. Her long, dark hair curled at the ends, her bangs carefully pinned to the side. Her wide blue-green eyes scanned the crowd shyly, brows creased with a kind of polite panic. Like a deer frozen in headlights.
The confusion hit like a second whistle. “…Uh,” muttered Karasu, wiping sweat off his jaw with a towel. “Anyone else seeing this?”
“She’s pretty…” Aryu practically sparkled, brushing a smudge off his cheek. “But this isn’t glam. This is chaos.”
“Did someone lose their little sister?” Reo tilted his head, squinting. “Wait—no way she snuck in here, right?” Kurona blinked. “She doesn’t look lost. More like... waiting for someone, someone.”
“She someone’s girlfriend?” Chigiri asked with his arms crossed, side-eying Nagi and Reo, who both shrugged.
“Not mine,” Nagi mumbled, yawning. “Too much effort.”
“Ohhh! Do you think she’s here for Isagi?” Bachira leaned toward him with a mischievous grin, whispering with spark in his voice. “Yoichi, she's totally your type, huh? Look at those innocent eyes—classic protagonist material.”
Isagi blinked once. Then twice. She was beautiful. But not just that—there was something quiet in the way she stood. A soft kind of stillness. Something that made his brain short-circuit. “…I—I don’t even know her,” he muttered, eyes locked on her like she might disappear if he blinked.
From the opposite end, members of the Japan U-20 team slowed their stride too. “Who’s that?” Sendo asked aloud, exchanging glances with Aiku. Aiku studied her carefully. Calm. Reserved. There was a subtle tension in her shoulders, like she was used to standing under heavy lights. The way her hands twisted the strap of her shoulder bag suggested she didn’t like being stared at—but was too polite to speak up.
Shidou, on the other hand, grinned like a predator. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see a bunny in the lion’s den.” He stepped forward without a shred of shame. “Yo, sweetheart. You lost, or are you just brave as hell?” Rin flinched slightly but kept her composure, lowering her head in a respectful bow.
“…No, I’m not lost,” she said softly, voice laced with nervousness but clear. “I’m waiting for someone.” There was a pause. Shidou raised an eyebrow, not expecting an actual response. “She’s so polite,” Yukimiya observed, adjusting his jersey. “Elegant too… almost like a ballerina.”
“Closer than you think,” a new voice drawled behind them, dry as ice and twice as sharp. Every head turned.
Sae Itoshi walked down the hall with his usual detached grace, hair tousled, shirt slung over one shoulder. His eyes flicked toward Rin—immediately softening.
“Sorry I took so long. Traffic.” His tone was as flat as ever, but Rin visibly relaxed.
Isagi’s brain short-circuited.
Wait.
Wait.
Sae stopped beside the girl, then raised a hand. Gently—like someone who knew she hated crowds—he rested it protectively on her head. “This is my little sister,” he announced coolly. “Don’t touch her.”
The silence was deafening.
“…You have a sister?” Karasu said slowly.
“No one knew that,” Aiku muttered, brows raised. “Not even management.” Rin bowed again politely, eyes wide.
“H-Hello. I’m Rin. Itoshi Rin. I—uhm, I came to support my nii-chan.” Barou blinked like she’d spoken an alien language. “You… call him ‘nii-chan?’ That Sae?”
Shidou let out a cackle. “Ohhh, that’s fucking hilarious.”
Sae’s gaze narrowed. “Say another word, and I’ll break your jaw.” Shidou raised both hands in mock surrender, grinning wide. Isagi couldn’t breathe. Rin Itoshi. She was standing right there, the light catching in her hair, her lashes fluttering with discomfort under so many eyes.
And yet, despite the chaos, she stayed beside her brother like he was the only anchor she had. “She’s… kinda amazing,” Isagi murmured under his breath. Bachira smirked from beside him, nudging him hard with his elbow.
“I knew it. Yoichi’s got a crush.”
“I do not—!”
Rin looked over at them, tilting her head gently. Isagi immediately shut up, going pink in the ears.
And Sae?
Sae was watching all of it unfold like he already regretted bringing her.
“So…” Reo looked between Rin and Sae, eyes narrowing suspiciously, “...you’ve got a sister.”
“That explains why he never looked impressed with anyone,” Chigiri added. “His standards were probably set by her.”
“She’s not even in Blue Lock,” Otoya mused, tapping his chin, “but she’s already got the aura of a final boss.”
“She doesn’t even play soccer!” Barou grunted. “Doesn’t need to,” Aryu purred, adjusting his collar. “Her hair? Her glow? That poise? Glam incarnate. I approve.” Sae gave them all the same expressionless stare he might give an open sewer.
Rin tugged the hem of her cardigan awkwardly, voice quiet but steady. “Please don’t make a fuss. I didn’t mean to interrupt…”
“You didn’t interrupt anything!” Bachira spun to face her with a bright grin, stars in his eyes. “In fact, you made the post-game way more fun.”
“You don’t usually see Sae-san care about people,” Isagi added honestly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s kind of… cool, actually.”
Like a thunderclap—
“I think I’ve seen her before…” Hiori’s voice cut through the noise. Everyone turned. Hiori blinked. Once. Twice.
“Wait… I have seen her before.” Rin froze. Sae’s eyes sharpened.
“On the news,” Hiori continued innocently. “There was a special on Olympic qualifiers last week. She landed a triple axel combo. Wore that exact same bracelet.”
A full second of silence. Then Otoya practically screeched. “TRIPLE AXEL?!”
“She’s an Olympic skater?!” Reo’s jaw dropped. “Like—Olympics Olympics?!” Karasu blinked in disbelief. “She’s that Rin Itoshi?!”
“She’s a gold medalist?!” Yukimiya asked, somewhere between scandalized and reverent. “And she showed up here?”
“That’s insane,” Chigiri muttered. “The balance, the leg strength—no wonder she looks like she floats.”
“Oh my god,” Aryu gasped. “I am in love.”
“Same,” Otoya said. “But I’m also terrified.”
“Gold medalist AND Sae’s little sister?” Kurona muttered. “She’s the most dangerous person here.”
Shidou burst out laughing, loud and wild. “No wonder the bastard never shuts up about training. He was living with a prodigy the whole damn time!” Sae’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I didn’t shut up about anything.”
“OH! OH!” Bachira suddenly spun on Isagi. “This is why you had a dumb look on your face! You totally fell for her before you even knew she was famous!” Isagi’s soul tried to escape his body. “I didn’t—!! That’s not—!!”
“You were staring like a kicked puppy,” Karasu snorted.
“You blushed when she bowed,” Reo added with a grin.
“I can hear your heartbeat,” Bachira teased, leaning close. “Do-kun, do-kun~”
Isagi buried his face in his hands. Rin was turning pink now too, clutching her sleeves. “Please stop…” Sae, meanwhile, had reached his limit. With all the calm of an executioner, he stepped forward, his tone flat and final.
“If any of you speak to her again without my permission, I will end your careers.” Everyone paused. And then Shidou, smirking like a menace, raised his hand.
“…Define ‘speak.’ Does that include eye contact or—” Sae stepped on his foot. “OW—!! THE HELL?!”
“That's a warning.”
“Bro’s serious,” Otoya whispered, half-laughing, half-panicking. “You really are a big softie under all that ice,” Chigiri muttered. “I’m not.”
“You are,” Rin said softly beside him, tugging at his sleeve. Everyone stopped. Sae blinked. “…Tch.”
The tiniest smirk pulled at Rin’s lips. “Thank you, nii-chan.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, hanging heavy in the air after Rin's soft, "Thank you, nii-chan."bSae let out the quietest sigh and looked away, like even hearing that affectionate tone was giving him a headache. But he didn’t move her hand from his sleeve.
“Hold on,” Reo said, squinting as if his brain had finally caught up. “Are we all just… not freaking out enough?”
“You’re right,” Bachira agreed, perking up. “Because this is crazy.”
“Completely insane,” Otoya added. “They’re both monsters. In different fields.”
“An Olympic gold medalist and a La Liga football star?” Karasu crossed his arms. “That’s not genetics. That’s illegal.”
“I’m calling hacks,” Aryu declared, fixing his hair. “Nobody’s allowed to be that coordinated and that pretty.” Kurona muttered under his breath, “That house must’ve been terrifying. Like being raised in a final boss, final boss arena.”
“I bet their family dinners were them silently glaring across the table,” Chigiri said. “…or practicing axel jumps and nutmegs over miso soup,” Hiori added helpfully.
Rin blinked, very confused. “We don’t actually—”
“Wait wait wait,” Bachira spun in a circle dramatically, arms out. “Can we talk about how both of them are national-level prodigies before the age of twenty?!”
“Don’t say it like that,” Isagi muttered, still not over the fact that he 100% had a crush on someone whose brother could bench-press his entire future. “Oh I will say it,” Otoya grinned. “You were making eyes at her, bro. Before you knew she could probably triple-spin-kick your skull.”
“She’s not violent!” Isagi protested, horrified. “I could be,” Rin said quietly, in the same tone one might say "I could try the miso next time." Everyone froze. “She does have Sae’s energy,” Karasu muttered. “Just cuter.”
“I bet she beats him in practice sometimes,” Yukimiya said. “Wouldn’t be surprised if she made him cry once as a kid.”
“I did not cry,” Sae growled from behind them, annoyed beyond belief.
“He definitely cried,” Shidou chimed in, laughing like he’d just unlocked a cheat code. Sae took a step forward.
“Woah, woah, okay!” Reo threw his hands up. “Back to the real point—do you two just… casually dominate your sports like it’s nothing?”
“It’s not nothing,” Rin said softly, cheeks tinged pink now. “I just… skated because I liked it. I didn’t think it would turn into… this.”
“You’re the youngest skater to land a triple axel in the World Championship circuit,” Hiori pointed out. “…That’s true,” she admitted. “And you beat the French champion who had been undefeated for three seasons,” Yukimiya added. Rin fidgeted. “He fell.”
“You broke physics,” Chigiri said bluntly. “Let us have our moment.”
“She’s so humble,” Aryu swooned. “Wish Sae was that sweet,” Barou grunted, glaring. “I’m sweet,” Sae muttered darkly. “No, you’re just silent with extra steps,” Bachira replied.
.
“Yeah, the emotionally unavailable final boss type,” Karasu added. Sae looked at Rin with an expression that said end me now, but Rin just blinked innocently at the group, tugging the sleeve of her cardigan higher up her wrist.
“It’s really okay,” she said. “I’m… not used to people talking about me like this.” That made them pause.
And then Isagi—braver now, but still slightly red in the face—stepped forward and spoke softly. “Then maybe… we should do it more. Not because you’re Sae’s sister or some skating genius, but because you’re… just Rin. And that’s pretty amazing already.”
Silence. Bachira made the world’s slowest, slowest turn toward Isagi. “You are so down bad.”
“I—I’m just being nice!!”
“Sure you are,” Otoya smirked. “I believe in love,” Aryu whispered dramatically. “She’s still not dating until she’s thirty,” Sae said with his usual deadpan. “You can’t enforce that, nii-chan,” Rin replied, soft but firm. Everyone lost it.
Shidou howled. Reo choked. Hiori straight up wheezed.
Isagi?
Gone.
Melted into the floor.
Sae looked like he was seriously questioning his life decisions.
“...I should’ve just left her at home.”
——————————
“Are we seriously inviting the team we just beat to eat with us?” Raichi grumbled as they walked down the dim-lit street, freshly showered and still half-sore from the match. “It’s called sportsmanship,” Reo said, hands in his pockets. “You know, the thing you lose when you yell ‘eat dirt’ during tackles?”
“It was dirt,” Raichi hissed. “I was being accurate!” Behind them, Rin walked quietly beside Sae, eyes wide as she stared up at the glowing lanterns strung across the district. The street was alive with chatter and food smells—fried things, sweet soy sauce, smoke. She kept tugging her cardigan sleeves down over her hands.
Isagi hovered not far back, pretending not to look at her every 10 seconds. “You gonna say anything or just keep stalking from the rear like a creeper?” Bachira whispered beside him, grinning like a devil. “I’m not stalking—!”
“She’s gonna notice soon. Then you’ll spontaneously combust.”
“I will not—”
Ahead, Shidou was throwing an arm around Sendo’s shoulder. “Cheer up, Ace! You might’ve lost the game, but at least you get free meat now!”
“You’re buying it,” Sendo muttered. “Excuse me?” Shidou said, hand to chest. “I scored the only goal for you losers. I should be fed like royalty.” Aiku, walking a few feet ahead, sighed. “I already regret agreeing to this.”
“You mean Ego dragging you into it,” Karasu corrected. “Ego-sensei said it was a ‘team-building opportunity,’” Kurona added. “And I quote: ‘Learn to coexist or rot in mediocrity.’”
“I love when he gets poetic,” Yukimiya said dryly.
Sae walked ahead of them all with the quiet menace of a man already planning insults.
——————————
They filled the long table awkwardly, like rival school clubs forced to coexist. Sizzling grills in the center. Meat platters stacking up. Side dishes overflowing. Rin sat down quietly near Sae. The chair beside her was empty for a moment—until Bachira literally dragged Isagi into it and sat down next to him like a gremlin on a mission.
“Look at that,” Bachira whispered dramatically. “The stars aligned.”
Isagi looked like someone had just unplugged his brain.
Rin blinked up at him, then offered a small, polite smile. “It’s okay if you sit here.” And that’s when he died. “Isagi.exe has crashed,” Otoya announced. “Shut up,” Isagi hissed.
On the other end of the table, Shidou was halfway through chewing when he leaned over to Aiku and whispered, “How come the genius genes skipped your family?” Aiku ignored him. Sae, meanwhile, sipped his tea like he wasn’t surrounded by gremlins.
Then he set it down, looked straight at the crowd of U-20 and Blue Lock players arguing over who got the next cut of beef, and said, “You’re all lukewarm.” Everyone paused. “What?!” Barou snapped, standing halfway up.
“Oh god, here he goes,” Karasu muttered. Sae leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, completely composed. “None of you are on my level.” Dead silence. Even the meat stopped sizzling. “You just lost,” Yukimiya said flatly.
“Because I didn’t care enough to stop it,” Sae replied, voice as cold as ever. “It’s not my job to babysit.”
“Then maybe quit showing up,” Shidou grinned. “Or at least take a loss like a man instead of an art critic.”
Reo leaned toward Chigiri. “Is it just me, or is this the most passive-aggressive dinner ever?”
“I’ve been in nicer interrogations,” Chigiri muttered.
Kurona looked at Rin. “Do you guys, like… talk like this at home, home?” Rin, mid-bite, blinked and answered softly, “No. This is… worse.” That got a few chuckles. “So you admit your brother is a menace,” Karasu said. “I didn’t say that.”
“You thought it, though,” Reo grinned. Sae, looking entirely unbothered, reached for another slice of beef.
“I’m just saying the truth. You want to be the best in the world? Start acting like it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go touch grass,” Shidou said, rolling his eyes. Isagi glanced at Rin, who was nibbling on a slice of grilled sweet potato like she was trying to disappear from the testosterone hurricane.
“...Sorry about all this,” he whispered. She smiled softly. “It’s okay. I’m… kind of used to it.” Isagi hesitated, then leaned just a little closer. “You were amazing, by the way. I watched your skate. That final jump—you made it look so effortless.”
Rin’s eyes widened, her ears turning pink. “I… thank you.”
Across the table, Bachira was making slow kissy noises into his hand. Sae caught him mid-noise with a glare so venomous he went completely still like a squirrel in a trap. Aiku took a sip of water and muttered, “This is the most chaotic post-game meal I’ve ever seen.”
“And the most entertaining,” Aryu sighed. “Rin-chan, you’re the only glam thing here.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Isagi whispered honestly. Rin smiled again—tiny, soft. And then Sae, without looking up, said:
“If he tries to kiss you, I’ll break his kneecaps.”
——————————
The air outside was cooler now. Crisp. Still smelled like smoke from the yakiniku grills. Isagi walked out to breathe — just for a second. The meal had been… a lot.
Between Shidou stealing everyone’s pork belly, Barou flipping a plate, Aryu complimenting Rin’s “collarbone aura,” and Bachira making dramatic violin noises every time Rin spoke to him, Isagi felt like he’d been emotionally drop-kicked into a romcom warzone.
And then there was her. Sitting beside him like it was normal. Smiling at him like he wasn’t just another guy. Her eyes had softened every time he spoke.
Rin Itoshi…
He leaned against the hood of a parked van and exhaled. "What am I even doing…?"
“You’re daydreaming.”Isagi flinched. He turned slowly.
Sae stood a few feet away, hands in his coat pockets, expression unreadable. His voice was calm. Flat.
Unapologetic.
The parking lot felt ten degrees colder. “I—uh—just needed air,” Isagi stammered. Sae didn’t move. “Let’s make this quick,” he said, stepping forward.
Oh god.
Oh no.
Not now.
Isagi straightened up, heart already punching his ribs.
“…Quick?”
“Yeah.” Sae stopped just in front of him. Still. Still as a storm that hadn't started yet. “I know how you looked at her.” Isagi swallowed. “I—I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Sae said simply. “The moment she smiled at you, you looked like your brain stopped working.”
“I—”
“And she looked back.”
…shit.
Sae tilted his head slightly. The corner of his mouth curved — not into a smile, but something crueler. Something like disappointment dressed in apathy.
“Here’s the thing,” he said. “Rin’s not like you.”
Isagi frowned. “She’s not like anyone.”
“Exactly. She’s better.”
“…I know.”
“No. You don’t.” Sae’s gaze sharpened, voice still eerily calm. “She’s been through more than you can imagine. Pressure you’ll never understand. She trained until she bled, skated on broken ankles, smiled for cameras while vomiting from nerves. And she still won.”
Silence.
Isagi said nothing.
Sae stepped even closer, shadows cutting across his face beneath the dim yellow light. “You think I’d let someone like you near her just because you were polite over dinner?” Isagi’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
“I don’t want anything from her.”
“Then walk away.”
“…I can’t.”
Sae’s eyes narrowed. Isagi took a breath. “I’m not trying to hurt her. Or use her. Or—get something out of this. I just… I want her to be seen. To be okay. That’s all.”
A heavy silence.
Sae stared at him.
Then, finally, he spoke again.
“You’re weak.”
“I know.”
“You’re stupid.”
“I know that too.”
“You’re not ready.”
“I’m trying to be.”
Another pause.
Sae’s eyes flicked away for a second—toward the restaurant, toward the warm yellow windows glowing against the night. “She’s shy,” he said quietly, voice losing some of its cold edge. “But she loves deeply. She hides everything and still thinks of others first. You break her—I'll break you.” Isagi looked up, gaze firm now. “…Okay.”
“No. Not okay.” Sae stepped back. “It means don’t even think about getting close unless you’re ready to bleed for her.” The door behind them creaked open. Rin peeked out, cardigan sleeves pulled up around her knuckles. She spotted them, eyes softening with concern.
“Nii-chan? Isagi-kun?”
Isagi flinched.
Sae glanced over his shoulder.
“We’re coming,” he said smoothly, like nothing had happened. Rin nodded, then slipped back inside. Sae turned back to Isagi, gaze like steel. “You’re not good enough for her.”
“I know,” Isagi said again. This time… quieter. Stronger. “But I want to be.” Sae studied him. Then, without a word, he turned and walked toward the door.
Isagi stood frozen in the parking lot, heart still thudding.
He’d survived.
…Barely.
——————————
The last of the yakiniku sizzle was dying down. Most of the Blue Lock team had migrated to the corner booths, arguing over dessert or showing off photos of Rin’s skating with awed “No way that’s real” reactions. Isagi sat quietly near Bachira, still processing what just happened outside.
Sae had slipped out again—he always needed space after crowds. Everyone assumed it was to check his phone or avoid Shidou’s voice. But Rin knew better.
After a beat, she stood up, quietly excusing herself and heading toward the back exit.
Outside, the cold air nipped at her skin. The streets were mostly empty. The dim lamp above the door cast a halo of soft yellow light. Sae was standing there, hands in his coat pockets, staring up at the stars like he was trying to forget how exhausting the world was. She walked up beside him, quietly. He didn’t look at her, but he said, “You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“You were.”
“I’m me.”
“…That’s not a reason.”
Sae sighed, shoulders stiff under his jacket. They stood in silence for a moment. Then Rin spoke softly. “You scared Isagi-kun.” Sae’s jaw twitched. “Good.” She looked at him, her face calm, but not passive. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t need you to.”
That stung more than he expected. He didn’t show it. But Rin saw the way his fingers tensed in his pocket. “I’m not trying to ruin anything,” Sae said after a moment. “But people aren’t always as good as they seem.”
“And you’re not always right.” That made him look at her. Really look. Her eyes were steady—shy, yes. Gentle, always. But there was steel in her gaze that reminded him too much of the first time she fell during a routine and got up before anyone could help her.
“You think he’s different?” he asked. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I want to find out.” He stared at her. The girl who used to cling to his sleeve during press interviews. The one who cried silently after competitions when she thought no one was watching. The same one who now stood here—telling him, the genius, the star, the brother who built walls around himself—to let her breathe.
“…You’re not a little kid anymore,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been for a long time.”
“…I know.” The wind rustled the hem of her dress. Rin looked up at him, smile faint, wistful. “You don’t have to protect me like that anymore, nii-chan.” Sae looked away. His voice was barely audible.
“…I know.”
A pause.
“But I still want to.”
Rin stepped closer and gently wrapped her arms around his waist. Sae froze, startled. He wasn’t used to being hugged anymore. Not by fans. Not by friends. Certainly not by her. He didn’t move for a second—then slowly, carefully, rested a hand on her shoulder.
“You can,” she murmured into his coat. “Just don’t forget I can protect myself too.”
“…Fine.”
They stayed like that for a few breaths.
——————————
When Rin stepped back into the room, the chatter died for a second. Just for a second.nThen Reo leaned over to Chigiri and whispered, "Ten yen says she sits next to Isagi again." Chigiri didn’t blink. "She will. And he’s going to malfunction." Isagi, mid-sip of water, nearly choked when Rin began walking toward the exact same chair beside him she’d been in before.
Not across.
Not by her brother.
Beside him.
She slid in quietly, folding her hands on her lap. “Sorry for leaving,” she said softly. “O-Oh! No worries! You didn’t—um—yeah, you’re good,” Isagi fumbled, waving his hands like he was shooing a fly. “I mean—not good like—! You know—you're fine! Wait—!!” Bachira put his face in his hands and screamed into the table.
“HE’S SO GONE,” Otoya snorted. “Unrecoverable,” Aryu confirmed. “We should start writing his eulogy. Make it glam.”
“Yoichi, blink twice if you’re still in control of your central nervous system,” Karasu deadpanned. “I'm fine!!” Isagi barked, face red. “She just sat down!”
“She sat beside you,” Reo said, eyes twinkling. “That’s basically a love confession in anime rules.”
“I don’t even know her!”
“You didn’t know any of us when you got here either,” Chigiri replied. “Look how that turned out.”
“Chaos and trauma, chaos and trauma” Kurona muttered. Rin, for her part, looked completely calm. A bit shy, yes. But not surprised. She reached for the last slice of sweet potato on the plate and set it neatly on Isagi’s plate. “You didn’t eat much,” she said softly. “You should.”
Isagi stared at the potato like it was a marriage proposal.
Bachira physically slid off the booth in defeat. “It’s over. He’s in love.”
“It’s a sweet potato,” Isagi hissed. “It’s love, actually,” Yukimiya corrected. “She’s a golden girl with medal aura and he’s a soccer nerd,” Otoya grinned. “That’s peak sports manga couple.”
“Someone stop them,” Sae said from the other end of the room, sipping tea like it was vodka. “I tried,” Shidou replied, grinning. “Failed. Gloriously.”
“She’s too sweet,” Aryu sighed. “I want to protect her and also be her. I’m torn.” Rin blinked slowly, processing the loudness like one would a museum tour gone off-script. “They’re very… energetic.”
“You get used to it,” Isagi mumbled, poking at the sweet potato like it had personally attacked him. “Do you… want me to move?” Rin asked quietly.
“NO.”
The table went dead silent. Isagi froze. “I—I mean,” he said quickly, voice cracking like a haunted door hinge, “No, you’re totally okay here! Like—yeah. This is… fine. Cool. Chill.”
“She’s gonna think you’re broken,” Karasu said. “I am broken!” Isagi whispered in despair. “You’re the most awkward person I’ve ever seen,” Reo teased. “She clearly doesn’t mind,” Hiori said softly. Everyone turned.
Hiori looked up from his tea, calm as ever.
“She’s smiling.” They turned again. And indeed—Rin had a soft, amused smile on her lips. Her eyes were still shy, her hands still neatly folded in her lap—but there was a warmth there, quiet and real. “You’re funny,” she told Isagi. Isagi nearly melted into the booth.