Renzo let out a long breath before dropping flat on his back against the field, one arm thrown over his eyes. "Fucking extra…" he muttered, voice rough from exertion. The grass was cool against his skin, slightly damp, grounding in a way he didn't care to think about. For a moment, he just stayed there, chest rising and falling steadily, the field now empty, the earlier noise gone like it never existed.
Anyone who saw him like this would probably think something was wrong with him. …they wouldn't be wrong. He exhaled again, slower this time, then dragged his arm off his face and stared up at the sky, eyes unfocused. "…so annoying," he added quietly, though the irritation had dulled into something heavier.
After a while, he pushed himself up, running a hand through his damp hair. His jersey clung to him, the bold Blue Lock lettering stretched across his back, fabric sticking from the intensity of practice. His gaze flickered briefly toward the empty goalpost before he clicked his tongue and stood. "…tch." He grabbed his bag and headed toward the locker room without another thought.
By the time he got there, it was empty, just like he expected. His footsteps echoed faintly against the tiled walls as he walked in, the silence clean, almost too clean. He didn't mind it. Renzo pulled off his jersey without ceremony, tossing it onto the bench before changing back into his uniform. The fabric felt stiff, boring, familiar. He moved automatically, like it didn't matter, like none of it did. Once he finished, he shoved the jersey into his bag and zipped it halfway, fingers pausing briefly on the zipper before letting go. His phone rang. The sound cut sharply through the silence, making his expression tighten slightly. He didn't check the caller ID, didn't hesitate, just answered.
"…hello—" "Ren-channn~" His shoulders stiffened immediately.
"…yes, Mother," he said,
voice flattening in a way that didn't match him at all. "I heard from your coach that you played with someone interesting today," she continued, tone light, almost playful, but with something colder underneath. "A very talented player." Renzo's grip on the phone tightened slightly.
"…yeah." "You didn't lose, did you?"
A pause. "…no." "Mm." A soft hum. Then her tone shifted, subtle but sharp. "Ren-chan, you need to train harder. You will do that for me, won't you?" The cheerfulness came back too quickly.
"…I understand," he said quietly. "I'll try harder." "That's my good boy." A soft laugh followed. "And while you're at it, get closer to that boy. Talent like that is useful. Don't forget, you're meant to stand above everyone else." The line cut.
Silence filled the room again. Renzo lowered the phone slowly, staring at the blank screen for a second before letting his hand drop. "…tch." He sat down heavily on the bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, fingers pressing lightly against his temples. The quiet wasn't peaceful anymore. It pressed in, heavy, familiar. "…figures," he muttered. Of course she knew. Of course she had someone watching. Still—he hadn't expected the coach. That part irritated him more than it should. He exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of his shoulders until his breathing steadied. No point thinking about it. There never was. After a few seconds, he pushed himself up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "…whatever."
The hallway outside was mostly empty, lights dimmer now, the late sun stretching shadows across the floor. His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked, unhurried, gaze forward but unfocused. "…practice again tomorrow," he muttered under his breath, mocking the tone. Annoying. Seriously annoying. His grip tightened slightly on the strap of his bag before loosening again. "…tch." He turned the corner—and stopped. Standing a few meters ahead, like he hadn't left at all, was Sae Itoshi, leaning against the wall, calm, silent, like he'd been there the entire time. Renzo frowned immediately.
"…what the hell are you doing here?" Sae glanced at him, expression unchanged. "…you're late." "…late for what? School's over," Renzo snapped. "For practice." Renzo stared at him for a second. "…are you serious right now?" "You left early.
Your stamina dropped near the end." The words were said casually, like it was obvious. Something in Renzo's chest tightened—not from what was said, but how. "…you kept track of that?" Sae didn't answer. Renzo clicked his tongue, irritation flaring again. "You've got way too much time on your hands." "…and you waste yours," Sae replied.
"…excuse me?" "You slow down when you lose interest. It's inefficient." For a split second, Renzo's expression froze before twisting. "…don't act like you know anything about me," he said, voice lower. Silence. Sae stepped away from the wall, closing the distance just enough. "…then prove me wrong."
Renzo let out a short, humorless laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. "You're seriously pissing me off." "Then don't be predictable." That was enough. Renzo dropped his bag without looking, stepping forward. "Fine," he said, a sharp grin forming. "Let's go."
The field was darker now, shadows stretching across the grass, the air cooler, quieter. No coach. No teammates. Just them. Renzo tapped the ball lightly with his foot, rolling his shoulders once. "…don't complain if you lose." "I won't," Sae replied. "…arrogant." The next second, Renzo moved. No signal, no warning, just instinct. The ball stayed close to his feet as he pushed forward, pace uneven in a way that made it hard to read. A shift left—fake. Cut right—real. His body moved before the decision fully formed, slipping past Sae's first attempt without slowing.
For a second, it worked. Then the ball was gone. Renzo stopped abruptly, turning just in time to see Sae already in control, movements clean, efficient, like he'd seen through everything from the start. "…tch." Sae didn't comment. He just moved. Renzo chased, faster this time, sharper, the gap closing instantly as his foot snapped forward to intercept—and missed by a fraction. "…seriously?" Sae's pace didn't change. Renzo's grin widened slightly despite himself. "…fine. This is better."
The pace picked up. Faster. Rougher. No structure, no rules, just movement and reaction, both of them adjusting in real time, pushing without a word. Renzo's movements grew sharper, less restrained, angles shifting unpredictably, his body choosing paths that didn't look possible until they worked. Sae responded just as cleanly, cutting him off, reading him, forcing him to adapt again and again.
By the time they stopped, the sky had darkened completely. Renzo exhaled, hands on his hips. "…you're insane." "…you're still loud," Sae replied. Renzo barked out a short laugh. "You really don't change, huh?" "No need to." "…yeah, yeah." A brief silence settled, not uncomfortable, just there.
Then Sae turned slightly. "Same time tomorrow." Renzo rolled his eyes, grabbing his bag. "…you're not even asking anymore." "No." "…tch." He waved a hand as he walked off. "I'll think about it." Sae didn't respond, didn't move, just watched him leave. Renzo didn't look back, but his grip on the strap of his bag tightened slightly. He already knew. He'd show up.