The bully looked Sota up and down, sizing him up. "You must be new around here if you think you can talk to me like that. This isn't your business, so why don't you just walk away?"
Sota's eyes flicked to Ouji, who was now looking at him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Sota turned his gaze back to the bully, his resolve hardening. "I'm making it my business."
There was a tense silence as the two stared each other down. The other boys shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to react now that someone else had gotten involved. The leader, however, wasn't backing down.
"All right, tough guy," the bully said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see what you've got."
Before Sota could react, the bully lunged at him, throwing a wild punch. Sota dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the hit. He countered with a swift jab to the bully's ribs, catching him off guard. The bully staggered back, clutching his side with a pained expression.
"Damn you!" the bully spat, recovering quickly and charging at Sota again. This time, Sota was ready. He ducked under the bully's swing, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to throw him off balance. The bully crashed to the ground, and Sota quickly moved to stand over him, pinning him down.
The other four bullies hesitated, clearly unsure of whether to jump in or cut their losses. Sota glared at them, daring them to try something. "Anyone else want to give it a shot?"
They exchanged nervous glances, none of them willing to make the first move. The leader, still struggling to get free from Sota's hold, shouted at them. "What are you waiting for? Get him!"
But before they could act, a calm but firm voice rang out from behind them. "That's enough."
All heads turned towards the source of the voice. An old man, dressed in traditional Japanese attire, stood at the entrance to the gym. His presence commanded respect, and the bullies immediately froze in place. The old man's eyes, sharp and discerning, surveyed the scene with a steely gaze.
"Step away from him," the old man ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, Sota released the bully, who scrambled to his feet, glaring at both Sota and the old man. But even the bully knew better than to challenge the newcomer. He scowled, motioning for his friends to follow him as they hastily retreated from the gym.
The old man watched them leave, his expression unreadable. Once they were gone, he turned his attention to Sota and Ouji. Sota, still catching his breath, straightened up and bowed slightly in respect.
"Thank you for stepping in, sir," Sota said, his voice steady but with a hint of exhaustion.
The old man nodded, his gaze softening slightly. "You did well to stand up for your friend. But violence should always be a last resort."
Sota nodded, understanding the wisdom in the old man's words. He glanced at Ouji, who was still standing silently, his expression as calm as ever. Sota couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind.
"Are you all right?" Sota asked Ouji, his tone gentle.
Ouji blinked, as if coming out of a trance. He nodded slowly, his white irises catching the fading light of the day. "I'm okay, no worry." he replied in halting Japanese.
The old man observed the two boys for a moment before speaking again. "You both should be careful. Not everyone is as forgiving as I am."
Sota bowed again, grateful for the old man's intervention. "We will, sir. Thank you."
The old man gave a small nod before turning and walking away, his figure gradually fading into the distance.
Once he was out of sight, Sota let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He turned to Ouji, who was still watching him with an unreadable expression.
"Let's get out of here," Sota suggested, gesturing towards the school gates. Ouji nodded, falling into step beside him as they left the gym behind.
As they walked, Sota couldn't help but think about what had just happened. He had stepped in to help someone in need, just like he always used to on the football field. The thrill of the fight, the rush of adrenaline—it reminded him of a time when he had been fearless, ready to take on any challenge.
But as they walked in silence, Sota's thoughts drifted back to Aiko, and the flag football team. The weight of his guilt returned, pressing down on him once more. He had tried to avoid getting involved, but here he was, once again in the thick of things.
By the time they reached the school gates, Sota knew he couldn't keep running from his past. He didn't know what the future held, but for now, he had found a new resolve. He wouldn't turn his back on those who needed him, no matter how much he wanted to.
But he still wasn't ready to face Aiko or the team—not yet. First, he needed to figure out where he truly stood.
As they reached the crossroads where they would part ways, Sota glanced at Ouji. "If you ever need help… don't hesitate to ask," he offered, his voice sincere.
Ouji looked at Sota, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Thanks, see you" he said, his Japanese still rough, but the gratitude in his voice clear.
Sota nodded, returning the smile before turning to head home. As he walked away, he felt a strange sense of calm. He wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was on the right path.
And perhaps, just perhaps, that path would lead him back to the team. But for now, he would take it one step at a time.
On his way back, he saw the same old man, sweeping by the front of the gym. Once again, he bowed his head, thanking him for his intervention.
"Oi kid, you look like you need some help." The old man said, flexing his biceps. "Why don't I personally train you?" He offered, grinning.