Ryuji stood on the field, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. To anyone watching, it had looked like a brutal accident—two players colliding in the heat of the moment. But Ryuji knew better. His plan had worked exactly as he'd intended.
Years of getting bullied, ducking punches, and sidestepping kicks had sharpened his sense of awareness to an almost supernatural level. It wasn't something he boasted about, nor was it a skill he flaunted. But it had become second nature to him. He always knew where people were going to be, their next move mapped out in his mind before they even made it. So when he saw Asakura breaking away, sprinting toward the end zone with blazing speed, Ryuji had already calculated his next step.
