Sigh~
Sota Kazemachi couldn't shake the gnawing guilt that had settled in his chest since yesterday. The devastating loss against Tsubasa High School was a blow to Seiryuu High's flag football team that no one had seen coming.
The score, a humiliating 115-0, echoed in his mind, and with it came the overwhelming sense that he was somehow responsible. He hadn't even stepped onto the field, yet the weight of the defeat clung to him as if he had been right there in the thick of it.
"No... it was, inevitable. I mean, the team's made up of students from other clubs. Also, there's only two key players, Kaminari and Koenji." Sota said to himself, wondering why the other applicants haven't played yet.
(Unbeknownst to him, Aiko still haven't processed their application.)
He tried to convince himself that he had made the right decision. After all, he had his reasons for staying away from the sport. But watching the team's morale crumble, especially seeing Aiko so disheartened, made it hard to keep that conviction.
Sota had never seen her so downcast before. Aiko, the ever-optimistic, spirited manager of the flag football team, had walked off the field yesterday with a cloud hanging over her head. That image of her lingered in his thoughts, fueling his inner conflict.
Today, Sota was determined to avoid her at all costs. He knew Aiko would try to talk to him again, and he was afraid of what might happen if she did.
Deep down, he knew that if she asked him to join the team one more time, he might not be able to say no. And that terrified him. If she were to ask him now, he knew he'd say yes in a heartbeat.
'I mean, how could I deny Aiko, after everything's she's done?' He complainingly thought to himself.
The school day passed in a blur, Sota doing everything he could to stay out of Aiko's sight. He skipped lunch in the cafeteria, opting instead to eat alone on the rooftop where he wouldn't be found. He ducked into classrooms and took alternate routes in the hallways, all to avoid a chance encounter.
Despite his efforts, Aiko remained on his mind. He could see her in the corner of his eye, the way she moved through the day with less energy, less light in her eyes. Guilt gnawed at him, and he hated it.
But he hated the idea of going back even more. He couldn't risk it—not again. The memory of his injury was too fresh, the fear of being broken beyond repair too strong.
The final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of classes. Most students would be heading home, but Sota lingered in the hallway, waiting for the crowds to thin out. He figured it would be safer to make his escape after everyone else had left, minimizing the chances of running into Aiko or anyone else who might try to pull him back into the sport.
With his bag slung over his shoulder, Sota made his way towards the gym. He wasn't sure why he was going there; maybe part of him hoped to find some solace in the quiet, empty space. Or maybe he was just delaying the inevitable moment when he'd have to face his guilt head-on.
But as he approached the gym, something caught his attention. A group of five students stood just outside the entrance, huddled around a single figure. The posture of the group immediately set off alarms in Sota's mind—they were too close, too aggressive.
He slowed his pace, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out what was happening. As he drew closer, he recognized the figure at the center of the group: it was Yukishiro Ouji, the new exchange student. The pale-haired boy stood there silently, his white irises reflecting a strange calmness despite the situation he was in. The five students surrounding him weren't exactly friendly. Sota's gut told him they were up to no good.
Sota crept closer, staying out of sight as he observed the scene. One of the bullies, a tall, muscular boy with a sneer plastered on his face, was demanding something from Ouji. Sota strained to hear their conversation.
"Come on, albino freak," the bully sneered. "Hand over your wallet."
Ouji didn't move, didn't speak. He just stood there, staring at the ground with that same unperturbed expression. Sota clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger. Ouji wasn't even fluent in Japanese yet—he probably didn't even fully understand what they were saying.
The bully, clearly annoyed by Ouji's lack of response, shoved him hard. Ouji stumbled back but remained silent. The other boys laughed, encouraged by their leader's actions. Sota could feel his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline starting to surge through his veins. He knew he couldn't just stand by and watch this happen.
Sota took a deep breath, stepping out from behind the corner. "Oi, leave him alone!" His voice cut through the air like a blade, and the bullies all turned to face him. Their expressions shifted from amusement to surprise, then to irritation.
"And who the hell are you?" the leader of the group snarled, stepping towards Sota. He was taller than Sota, more built, but Sota didn't back down. He met the bully's glare with one of his own, standing his ground.
"Kazemachi Sota." Ouji said in a calm voice. He still had the same cold and expressionless face on himself as he shook his head. "I'm okay. You go." He said, gesturing for Sota to get out of there so he won't get in trouble.
Quite frankly, the reason why Ouji didn't retaliate against the bullies was because he didn't want to tarnish his name. 'I just applied for the football club. If I fight these bullies, it might reach the ears of the school administration. I can't allow that to happen.' He said in his mind.
"I ask you, who the hell are you? Some kind of saint? You want in on the fun, huh?" One of the bullies tried to rile him up by raising his voice.
"Doesn't matter who I am. I'm telling you to leave him alone," Sota said, his voice steady.