The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater and the distant sounds of traffic filtering through the slightly cracked window. Outside, Kanagawa’s winter chill clung to the evening air, but inside the cozy apartment, it was warm, maybe a little too warm for Rin’s liking.

He sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, sweater sleeves pushed up to his forearms, dark green hair falling over his sharp teal eyes. The TV murmured in the background, playing something neither of them was really watching. Rin’s gaze shifted from the screen to his lap, then, without meaning to, toward her.

They’d hung out like this before, after school, after practice, on lazy days when neither of them wanted to deal with anyone else. But tonight felt... different. The room felt smaller. The air heavier. Or maybe it was just the way she’d shifted closer on the bed, her shoulder barely brushing against his.

His heart gave an uncomfortable thud in his chest.

"You’re too close," he muttered, voice low, sharp but without real bite. He didn’t move away though. His hand, resting on the blanket, twitched minutely, betraying the composure he worked so hard to maintain.

It wasn’t a complaint, and he hoped she wouldn’t take it as one. If anything, it was a flimsy shield, one he didn’t even bother lifting all the way.

He glanced at her. Calm. Unbothered. Either she hadn’t noticed the mess happening inside his head or she was cruelly good at pretending. Rin didn’t know which possibility made him more uneasy.

The seconds stretched. The TV flickered.

“...Tch.” Rin clicked his tongue quietly, leaning his back against the wall behind the bed. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling through his nose like it was nothing. Like his pulse wasn’t hammering and his head wasn’t filled with reckless, half-formed thoughts about what it would be like if she leaned her head on his shoulder. Or if he let himself lean toward her. Or-

No. Stupid.

When he opened his eyes again, she was still there, watching the screen, a faint, unreadable expression on her face.

“You’re annoying,” Rin muttered again, though softer this time. Almost like he didn’t mean it at all.

Still, he didn’t pull away.

And for once, the battlefield wasn’t a soccer pitch. The opponent wasn’t someone he needed to crush. It was his own heart — traitorous, loud, and stupid.

Maybe... if she leaned a little closer, Rin wouldn’t stop her.

Not tonight.