๐ต๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐๐ผ๐ ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฒ๐ฒ๐ฟ for ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐บ - ๐ฏ๐น๐๐ฒ ๐น๐ผ๐ฐ๐ธ
โคท ๐๐๐ป๐ผ๐ฝ๐๐ถ๐.แ หหห youโre in the stadium while watching them do what theyโre were supposed to do, you started to cheer for them.
they definitely heard you from afar cheering on for them.. what will they do next?
โคท ๐ณ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐๐๐ฟ๐ถ๐ป๐ด.แ หหห ego jinpachi เงด michael kaiser เงด sae itoshi เงด isagi yoichi เงด rin itoshi เงด bachira meguru เงด nagi seishiro เงด shidou ryusei เงด chigiri hyoma เงด don lorenzo เงด kunigami rensuke เงด aoshi tokimitsu เงด mikage reo เงด bunny iglesias
๐ฃฒ EGO JINPACHI
the final whistle blows. and just like that blue lock wins.
the field is loud with cheers, players collapsing, shouting, celebrating.
ego stands at the edge with his arms crossed, eyes already cutting through the noise. the score doesnโt surprise him. the result doesnโt either.
it went how it should. then he hears it. your voice.
โego!โ
it cuts through the crowd in a way nothing else does. he stiffens, just slightly.
โthat was amazing! your plan worked perfectly! they won because of you!โ
ego exhales through his nose. โโฆobvious,โ he mutters. โthey followed the optimal route.โ
but he turns this time.
fully.
his eyes find you in the stands, clapping, smiling like youโre proud of him. not the goals. not the players. him.
something shifts.
his shoulders drop a little. the tight line of his mouth eases. he adjusts his glasses, not to hideโjust to give himself a second.
โโฆyouโre too loud,โ he says quietly.
but thereโs no bite to it.
when the players run past him, celebrating, ego gives his usual sharp orders. yet his voice is calmer. steadier. like the edge has dulled just a little.
after the match, when you meet him in the hallway, he stops when he sees you. really stops. studies your face like heโs confirming something.
โโฆyou were watching,โ he says.
you nod.
he looks away for a moment, then back again. โthe execution wasnโt perfect,โ he adds. โbut your assessment wasnโt wrong.โ
itโs a strange thing to say. careful. almost kind.
later, alone in the monitoring room, ego replays the match footage. when a goal lands exactly as planned, his lips twitchโbarely.
he thinks of your voice in the stands. the way you said his name like it mattered.
โโฆannoying,โ he murmurs.
but this time, he doesnโt sound irritated.
he soundsโฆ pleased.
๐ฃฒ MICHAEL KAISER
the clock is almost out.
michaelโs lungs burn, legs heavy, sweat dripping into his eyes. the score is tied. the crowd is loud, restless, desperate.
he hates this feeling.
pressure crawling under his skin, old thoughts trying to drag him down.
the ball comes to him. his instinct takes over.
one sharp turn. a burst forward. the shot leaves his foot clean and fast.
goal.
the stadium explodes. for a second, michael canโt breathe. but then he hears it.
your voice.
โmichael!โ
clear. loud. shaking with excitement. โyou did it! i knew you would!โ
his chest tightens.
his grin comes fast and wild, almost reckless. he pumps his fist, heart pounding like itโs trying to break out of his ribs. for once, the cheers donโt feel like noise.
they feel like validation.
he looks up, scanning the stands until he finds you. youโre clapping, eyes shining, yelling his name like it belongs to you.
something in him cracks open.
โโฆyeah,โ he mutters, breathless. โi did.โ
he points toward the stands without thinking. just for a second. just enough.
after the match, when the team crowds around him, michael laughs louder than usual. his confidence is back, burning bright.
but when he finally breaks away and finds you, his voice drops.
โyou saw that?โ he asks, almost unsure.
when you nod, he lets out a shaky laugh and pulls you into a tight hug, forehead pressing to yours.
โโฆi really needed that,โ he admits quietly.
and the sound of your cheer stays with him long after the stadium goes quiet.
๐ฃฒ SAE ITOSHI
the match is intense from start to finish.
sae moves across the field with sharp control, every pass clean, every decision precise. he doesnโt look at the stands. he never does. crowds are noise. distractions.
until he hears it. his name.
โsae!โ
the voice cuts through everything. he stiffens for half a step.
then you cheer again, louder this time. โthatโs my midfielder! youโre amazing!โ
his eyes flick up before he can stop himself.
he sees you. wearing his jersey. his number. his name on your back.
something tight in his chest pulls hard.
he almost misses the next pass.
almost.
he recovers instantly, jaw setting, focus snapping back into place. the rest of the match blurs. his movements are sharper. faster. more decisive, like heโs proving something.
when the final whistle blows and his team wins, sae exhales slowly.
he doesnโt celebrate.
but his eyes find you again in the stands.
after the match, in the tunnel, he pauses when he sees you. the noise fades around him. sweat still clings to his skin, breath steady but deep.
โโฆyou wore it,โ he says.
itโs not a question.
you nod, smiling.
he looks away for a moment, then back. his hand lifts, fingers brushing the sleeve of your jersey, careful, almost reverent.
โโฆdonโt do that,โ he murmurs.
you tilt your head. โwhy?โ
his thumb presses lightly against the fabric. โโฆit makes it hard to ignore.โ
he lets his hand fall, composure returning. but when he walks away, thereโs the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.
๐ฃฒ RIN ITOSHI
the score is bad.
rin hates that.
his team is behind, the clock is running out, and the pressure is thick in his chest. every mistake feels louder. every second burns.
his jaw tightens. not like this.
he forces his focus forward, shutting out everything else. the field narrows. the ball, the goal, the path between them. nothing else matters.
then he hears it.
โrin!โ
your voice. sharp. desperate. believing. โdonโt give up! you can still win!โ
his breath catches for half a second.
he doesnโt look at the stands. he canโt. if he does, he knows heโll lose control. instead, his grip tightens, eyes burning with new fire.
โโฆtch,โ he mutters. โlike i would.โ
he moves.
faster than before. smarter. reading the field like itโs written just for him. he steals the ball, drives forward, scores.
the crowd screams. again. another play. another chance. another goal.
the scoreboard flips.
win.
when the final whistle blows, rin stands there, chest heaving, sweat dripping, hands shaking just a little.
then he looks up.
he finds you.
youโre cheering so hard it looks like it hurts, smiling like you knew this would happen all along.
his expression softensโjust a crack. barely there.
after the match, when you reach him near the sidelines, he avoids your eyes at first.
โโฆyou were loud,โ he says.
you laugh.
his fingers curl into his jersey, knuckles white. โโฆdonโt do that,โ he adds quietly. โit messes with my head.โ
but when you smile at him, proud and warm, he doesnโt pull away.
instead, he leans closer and murmurs, almost too soft to hear,
โโฆkeep cheering anyway.โ
because somehow, hearing your voice was what pulled him back when everything was about to fall apart
๐ฃฒ ISAGI YOICHI
isagiโs head is full. too many thoughts, too many paths, too many what ifs. his heart pounds hard in his chest, doubt creeping in like it always tries to.
am i reading this right? what if i mess it up?
the score is close. one mistake could end everything.
he presses his hands into his shorts, breathing slow, forcing himself to think. he scans the field, eyes sharp but tired. he sees the openings, the movements, the future he wants to create.
thenโ
โisagi!โ
your voice breaks through the noise.
he flinches, surprised.
โyouโve got this! trust yourself!โ
his chest tightens.
youโre there. watching him. believing in him. for a moment, his doubt screams louder.
โwhat if i fail in front of you?โ then something changes. โwhat if i donโt?โ
his breathing steadies. the field clicks into place like a puzzle snapping together. the routes, the timing, the perfect spot.
โyeahโฆโ he whispers to himself. โi see it now.โ
the ball comes to him.
he moves, not rushing, not hesitating. every step is clear. every choice his own. he passes once, runs, gets it back, and shoots.
goal.
the sound of the crowd washes over him, but all he hears is your cheer. loud, excited, proud.
his eyes widen. then he smilesโwide and real, not holding back.
he pumps his fist, laughing under his breath. โi did it.โ
when the match ends and his team wins, isagi feels lighter. like a weight heโs carried forever finally loosened.
the later, when he finds you, he rubs the back of his neck, cheeks a little red.
โโฆi was really scared,โ he admits. โbut when i heard you, everything felt clear.โ
he looks at you, eyes bright and honest.
โthanks for believing in me,โ he says softly. โeven when i wasnโt sure i could.โ
and this time, he believes it too.
๐ฃฒ BACHIRA MEGURU
bachira moves like he always does, laughing under his breath, feet light, the ball glued to him. the field feels fun today, like itโs inviting him to play harder, freer.
then he hears you.
โbachira!โ
his head snaps up.
there you are.
his grin spreads instantly, wide and unguarded. his chest warms in a way that has nothing to do with running.
โโฆfound you,โ he whispers. the monster inside him hums happily.
from that moment on, he plays differently. more daring. more playful. every dribble feels like a little show, every pass like a joke meant just for you.
the ball comes back to him near the goal.
he doesnโt hesitate. one clean move, one sharp shotโ
goal.
the stadium explodes.
bachira laughs out loud as he turns toward the stands. his eyes search quickly, urgently, until they lock onto you.
then he lifts his hands.
his fingers come together, slowly, clearly, forming a heart.
right at you.
he holds it there for a second longer than needed, smiling so brightly it almost hurts to look at. then he points at you, taps his chest, and laughs.
โthat oneโs yours!โ
his teammates shout at him to hurry, but he jogs back still grinning, cheeks flushed, energy buzzing.
after the match, when he finally reaches you, heโs still glowing.
โdid you see?โ he asks, eyes shining. โi made it just for you.โ
he leans in close, voice softer now.
โwhen you watch me,โ he says, โsoccer feels like love.โ
and he laughs again, because with you there, it really does.
๐ฃฒ NAGI SEISHIRO
nagi feels it in every part of him. his legs are heavy, his chest tight, and his head is full of too many thoughts at once.
the scoreboard is against his team, the other team dominating, and every pass he tries to make feels slow, clumsy, like heโs moving underwater.
he hates it, hates how helpless it feels, hates how his own mistakes keep repeating in his mind.
he stands there for a moment too long, watching his teammates run past, their movements sharp and precise while he feels stuck.
his hands twitch at his sides, restless, but every move he makes seems wrong.
maybe iโm the reason weโre losing, he thinks, heart tightening. maybe i donโt belong here.
maybe iโm justโฆ slowing everyone down. the thought presses into his chest, heavy and cold.
thenโ
โnagi!โ
the voice slices through the noise of the stadium, sharp and warm at the same time. itโs yours. clear. full of energy, full of belief.
โyou can still do it! i believe in you!โ
he freezes for a second, caught off guard, and then slowly his head tilts up.
he sees you in the stands, leaning forward, eyes bright, hands cupped around your mouth, shouting his name with everything youโve got.
your smile is steady and confident, like nothing could break it. it reaches him. it hits him in a way nothing else has all day.
something in him shifts. the weight in his chest eases slightly, and the knot of doubt loosens, just enough for him to remember what he can do.
โโฆyouโre loud,โ he mutters under his breath, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. but it isnโt mockingโitโs acknowledgment.
acknowledgment that somehow, hearing you, seeing your face, believing in him, makes all the pressure feel lighter, like the noise of the stadium and the fear of losing suddenly donโt matter as much.
the ball rolls toward him. his legs respond without hesitation. no clumsiness, no doubt, just movement, fluid and sure, as if his body remembered what his mind almost forgot.
he traps the ball perfectly, feeling the control, feeling the rhythm of the game settle into him.
one defender approaches, then another, and he weaves through them with precision, steps light, eyes sharp, timing perfect.
the opening appears, almost like itโs been there the whole time, waiting for him to see it.
he shoots.
goal.
the stadium explodes. the roar is deafening. the scoreboard flips. victory.
nagi exhales deeply, shoulders dropping, feeling a tension he didnโt even realize heโd been holding finally release.
his chest feels lighter, the tightness gone, replaced by something soft, warm, almost dizzying. he looks up, and his eyes find you again.
there you are, still cheering, still smiling, still believing. the world quiets around him for a moment, like everything else fades and all that exists is you.
โโฆguess i didnโt lose after all,โ he murmurs, voice low and rough with relief, a small smile finally breaking through.
later, after the match, when he finally meets you by the sidelines, he scratches the back of his neck, eyes soft, face still flushed from the game but glowing in a different way.
โwhen you cheered,โ he admits quietly, almost shyly, โit didnโt feel like a pain anymore. it feltโฆ like i could do it.โ
he pauses, looks down at his cleats for a moment, then back at you, a small, hopeful grin spreading.
โโฆnext timeโฆ cheer again,โ he says softly, a quiet request hiding in his words.
๐ฃฒ RYUSEI SHIDOU
shidou thrives in chaos. letting instinct take over. defenders stumble, the ball rolls fast, passes are reckless but perfect in their randomness. itโs exactly how he likes it.
but suddenly, a sharp sound cuts through the roar of the stadium.
โshidou!โ
your voice. clear, urgent, full of excitement, echoing over the chaos.
he freezes mid-dribble for half a second. it shouldnโt matter. he shouldnโt notice. chaos is his home.
but he does.
โโฆhuh?โ he mutters, almost laughing. a grin spreads across his face, wild and uneven.
his eyes scan the stands until they find you, leaning forward, hands cupped around your mouth, yelling his name like youโre the only person there.
just enough for him to feel something he rarely allows warmth. a strange pull, a tether to the ground in the middle of all the noise.
then instinct kicks back in. faster. sharper. smarter. his movements are alive with energy, but now, thereโs purpose behind themโjust enough to aim for the goal, just enough to take control of the chaos.
he winds up, shoots.
goal.
the crowd erupts, but shidou doesnโt move toward them.
he looks at you again, grinning wide, chest heaving, hair sticking to his sweat-soaked face. his fingers twitch in the air like he wants to reach out but doesnโt.
โโฆthat oneโs for you,โ he mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear.
after the match, when the players are celebrating around him, shidou stalks straight toward the stands.
his grin softens a fraction, chaotic energy still there but now tempered by something quieter, something he canโt usually name.
โโฆyou really saw that, huh?โ he says, leaning slightly forward, voice rough but sincere.
you nod.
he lets out a laugh, sudden and unpredictable, then shoves a hand through his hair. โโฆdonโt stop cheering, got it? itโฆ keeps me alive.โ
๐ฃฒ CHIGIRI HYOMA
the match is intense, but chigiri moves through it like he owns every step.
defenders stumble in his path, passes bend to his will, and he smirks almost constantly, daring anyone to keep up.
he loves itโhe thrives on being faster, sharper, better than everyone else.
and then he hears it.
โchigiri!โ
your voice cuts through the roar of the stadium. itโs not loud like the crowd, not part of the chaos.
itโs yours. bright. teasing. sharp. confident.
he freezes mid-dribble, barely, just long enough to feel it. itโs a strange feeling, something heavier than the match itself. his grin twitches, uneven, slightly caught off guard.
โโฆwhat?โ he mutters under his breath, trying to play it off. cocky, casual, like he doesnโt care.
but his eyes flick up to the stands anyway, scanning until they find you, arms clapped, face glowing, cheering him on.
and suddenly, the confidence heโs always had feelsโฆ warmer. softer. like he doesnโt just want to win for himselfโhe wants you to see him at his best.
he shakes his head slightly, trying to push the thought away.
โโฆdonโt make me think too much,โ he says, voice rough but playful. he dribbles past a defender, smirking, letting his ego shine.
but even as he shows off, he keeps stealing glances at you. your cheer makes him bolder, faster, sharperโbut alsoโฆ quieter in a strange way he doesnโt like admitting.
by the end of the match, chigiri hasnโt scored the final goal or done anything dramatic for you. he doesnโt need to.
when you meet him after the game, he approaches with that cocky swagger, grin wide, hair sticking to his forehead.
โโฆso you were watching?โ he asks, trying to sound casual, teasing.
you nod, smiling.
he smirks, flicking his hair back and pretending to look unimpressed. โโฆhm. thought so.โ
then, for a moment, his grin softens. just a fraction. his shoulders relax slightly, and his gaze lingers on you longer than he thinks anyone would notice.
โโฆcheer louder next time,โ he murmurs, almost to himself, almost joking. โmakes me feelโฆ unstoppable.โ
๐ฃฒ DON LORENZO
lorenzo moves like heโs untouchable. his every step is confident, precise, even a little playful.
defenders try to read him, but he changes direction, tempo, and angle too quicklyโthey never know whatโs coming. he thrives on unpredictability, on being one step ahead, always just a little wild.
then, a voice cuts through the noise.
โlorenzo!โ
your voice. sharp, clear, full of energy, and completely impossible to ignore.
he falters for a split second, just enough to feel it in his chest. his smirk twitches.
instinctively, he glances toward the stands, scanning until he finds you, arms waving, eyes bright, smiling like youโre daring him to do more, to show off even harder.
for a moment, the chaos of the fieldโthe shouts, the ball, the pounding of feetโfalls away. heโs only aware of you.
he shakes his head slightly, a laugh escaping, low and wild.
โโฆso youโre watching me,โ he mutters, almost to himself. โhmโฆ bold.โ
the next play comes fast. lorenzo moves with that same confident swagger, dribbling, feinting, taunting defenders with impossible little tricks.
he isnโt trying to score, not yet. heโs playing for himself. for the rush.
but every now and then, his eyes flick to you. your cheer pushes him forward.
he adjusts his speed just a fraction, times his moves just so, making each flick of the ball, each twist of his body, sharper and more precise than before.
the crowd scream around him, but heโs aware only of your voice in the stands, calling his name, bright and steady.
it makes his chest tighten in a strange way, a mix of excitement and something softer he doesnโt like to name.
after the match, lorenzo walks off the field with that usual cocky stride, hair sticking to his forehead, sweat running down his temples. he finds you immediately.
โโฆso, you came to see me,โ he says, voice low, teasing. โโฆhm. i like that.โ
you grin.
he smirks back, tossing his towel over his shoulder, trying to act like heโs unaffected.
but when he leans just a little closer, letting his hand brush yours as he passes, his eyes soften. the grin doesnโt falter, but thereโs warmth behind it, unspoken and quiet.
โโฆcheer for me next time too,โ he murmurs, almost to himself, almost teasing. โmakes meโฆ feel alive.โ
๐ฃฒ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE
the match has been tense from the start.
kunigami runs across the field, sweat soaking his jersey, muscles burning, but something keeps nagging at the back of his mind. he hasnโt scored yet, not even close, and he can feel it.
every miss, every failed attempt sticks in his chest like a weight. the other team is strong, quick, organized. his team is relying on him.
โcome onโฆ get it togetherโ, he mutters under his breath. his jaw tightens. heโs usually so controlled, so fair and steady. but todayโฆ today he feels it slipping.
thenโ
โkunigami!โ
your voice cuts through the noise of the stadium. bright, warm, clear.
โyou can do it! i know you can score!โ
he freezes mid-dribble, cheeks heating almost immediately. his eyes snap to the stands, scanning frantically until they find you.
youโre there, arms raised, smiling, bright eyes focused on him like heโs the only player that matters.
he stammers under his breath, โyouโre cheeringโฆ for me?โ
the question is quiet, more to himself than anyone else. his shoulders tense, then relax a little, heart beating faster in a way that has nothing to do with running.
the fluster makes him clumsy for half a second, but it also sparks something elseโsomething sharper, more confident.
he nods to himself, muttering, โโฆi can do this.โ
the ball comes toward him again. his legs move fast, but this time his mind feels lighter, sharper.
every step is clearer, every angle obvious. he fakes left, pivots right, dodges a defender, and sees the opening.
he shoots.
goal.
the screams of the crowd is massive, but kunigami barely hears it.
all he notices is your wide, cheering face. your smile. your belief in him. and suddenly, he feels like heโs done more than just scoreโheโs proven something to himself.
he wipes sweat from his forehead, still flustered, cheeks pink, breathing hard. he glances at you again and lets out a small laugh, nervous and happy all at once.
โthanks,โ he mutters, almost embarrassed. โโฆ you made me do it.โ
after the match, when he walks toward you, he scratches the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes for just a second before finally looking up.
โi didnโt think i could,โ he admits quietly. โbut hearing you it helped. more than i expected.โ
๐ฃฒ AOSHI TOKIMITSU
aoshiโs chest feels tight. his legs feel heavy, even though heโs running as fast as he can.
every pass, every move, every choice feels like it could ruin everything. his team is losing, and he can feel the pressure building up inside him.
the stadium is loud, people shouting and stomping, but it all feels like itโs pressing on him.
donโt mess this upโฆ please donโtโฆ
his hands twitch at his sides. his jaw is tight. his thoughts are spinning, doubt clawing at him like it wants to stop him.
โaoshi!โ
your voice cuts through the noise. clear, bright, full of warmth.
โyou can do it! i believe in you!โ
his breath catches. he freezes for a moment, staring at the field. then he looks up and sees you in the stands, leaning forward, smiling, yelling his name like it matters more than anything else.
something in his chest changes. the tight, heavy knot of worry loosens. confidence sparks inside him.
โokayโฆ i can do this. i have to do this.โ
the ball rolls to him. he moves, faster and sharper now, each step sure and steady. he dodges one defender, then another, and sees the opening. he pushes himself harder than before.
he shoots.
goal.
the stadium yells, but all aoshi hears is your voice cheering for him.
it lifts him up, makes him feel like he can do anything. like he belongs on the field.
his heart pounds. sweat drips down his face. he spins toward the stands and finds you.
youโre clapping and smiling, eyes shining, still cheering. his chest tightens again, but this time in a good way.
when the match ends, he doesnโt run to his teammates. he runs straight to you, stumbling a little, breathless, cheeks red.
he hugs you tightly, forehead against yours, holding you like he can finally let go of all his fear.
โโฆi did it,โ he whispers, voice shaking but happy. โโฆthanks to you.โ
you laugh softly, hugging him back.
โโฆdonโt stop cheering,โ he says, quietly, almost embarrassed. โโฆplease. iโฆ i need it.โ
๐ฃฒ REO MIKAGE
reo runs across the field, moving like he owns it, every step sharp and confident. his teammates look to him for direction, but heโs always thinking one step ahead, always looking for the opening.
the score is close, and every second matters.
then he hears it.
โreo!โ
your voice cuts through the crowd. bright, loud, full of energy.
he freezes for a tiny moment, heart skipping. then he looks up and sees you.
youโre leaning forward, smiling, clapping, shouting his name like you believe in him more than anyone else in the stadium.
a grin spreads across his face, wide and teasing.
โโฆyouโre loud,โ he mutters, almost to himself. but thereโs no bite in his wordsโjust something soft he canโt hide.
the ball comes to him. he moves faster now, sharper, more daring. he dribbles past one defender, then another, weaving through the chaos with that smooth, confident flair only he can pull off.
he sees the opening, the chance to finish this, and he doesnโt hesitate. he shoots.
goal.
the stadium explodes around him. fans are screaming, but all he notices is you.
he spins toward the stands, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hair sticking to his forehead.
then he lifts his hands, fingers forming a perfect heart, and blows it directly at you.
โthatโs for you!โ he shouts, laughing, eyes sparkling.
his teammates cheer, some rolling their eyes, but he doesnโt care. heโs focused only on you, on the way youโre laughing, clapping, bright and happy.
after the match, when he finally reaches you by the sidelines, heโs still grinning, still full of that wild energy.
โโฆdid you see?โ he asks, voice playful. โi made it just for you.โ
you nod, laughing.
he leans forward, brushing his hands over yours, still smiling that cheeky grin. โโฆyour cheerโฆ it made me do better. it made meโฆ unstoppable.โ
๐ฃฒ BUNNY IGLESIGAS
bunny moves smoothly across the field, calm and precise, every step measured, every pass careful.
his teammates look to him, but he rarely shows emotion. he doesnโt shout, doesnโt laugh, doesnโt even celebrateโhe just focuses.
until he hears it.
โbunny!โ
your voice. soft, but full of warmth and encouragement, cutting through the noise of the stadium.
he freezes for just a moment, heart skipping a beat he rarely admits exists.
his calm, polite mask wavers slightly. he scans the stands and sees youโcheering quietly but clearly for him, eyes shining, hands clapping with that soft, steady rhythm that makes him feelโฆ safe.
โโฆyouโre here,โ he whispers to himself, almost inaudible. his lips twitch into a small, nervous smile.
suddenly, the pressure on the field feels lighter. the tension in his chest eases just a little.
every pass, every step, every choice he makes feels sharper, more confident. he moves with purpose now, not just careful, but certain.
the ball comes to him near the goal. he fakes left, spins, and shoots. goal.
the stadium erupts, but bunny barely notices the noise.
all he sees is you, smiling, clapping, proud and calm. the warmth in your gaze reaches him in a way no victory could.
he leans forward slightly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, cheeks pink despite himself. his voice is soft, almost shy as he says, โyouโฆ you believed in me.โ
when the match ends, he walks slowly to you, hands slightly trembling, still trying to hide how much your presence affects him.
โโฆthanks,โ he murmurs, finally letting himself relax. โโฆyour cheerโฆ it helped me. more than i expected.โ
you smile at him, and he hesitates for a moment before offering a small, careful hug. his arms are gentle, holding you like heโs afraid to let go too soon.
โโฆdonโt stop cheering,โ he whispers quietly into your shoulder, voice low but sincere. โโฆitโฆ it keeps me steady.โ
ใยฉvalentinesxoxoห เผ เณโ๏ฝกห ใ
