You hadn’t planned on staying late.

Practice ended ages ago. You’d helped pack the equipment, checked the water bottles, avoided eye contact when Sugawara offered you one of his soft, familiar smiles. He always smiled at you like he knew something you didn’t.

And maybe he did.

Because lately, being around him felt... dangerous. Not in a bad way. In a too good to be true kind of way. Like if you let yourself fall even a little more, you wouldn’t be able to climb back out.

You liked him. You knew that. And the terrifying part? You were pretty sure he liked you too.

But feelings were messy. And if something went wrong—if he changed his mind, or you did, or if the team dynamic shifted—it would all fall apart. So you chose safety. Distance. You convinced yourself it was better that way.

But now, walking back into the empty gym to grab your forgotten phone, you weren’t so sure.

The lights were off except for one near the back. The floor echoed with your footsteps. And then you saw him.

Sugawara sat alone on the bench, still in his practice gear, one leg stretched out, the other pulled up, elbow resting on his knee. He wasn’t looking at you. Just fiddling with the same shoelace, again and again, like it was the only thing keeping his hands steady.

You stopped a few steps away. Your heart was already doing too much.

Then his voice—quiet, low:

“You should go.”

It wasn’t rude. Just... resigned.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

You froze. Part of you wanted to lie. To smile and say, What? No, I’ve just been busy. But your throat wouldn’t cooperate.

And then he looked up.

Sugawara's smile was soft. Familiar. The kind he gave you on stressful days, the kind that said I see you, even if you don’t say anything. But this time... it wavered.

“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’m not mad.” He looked back down. His fingers tightened slightly. “I just... kinda miss when you used to talk to me first.”

Your chest ached.

Because he wasn’t wrong. And what scared you the most... was how much you missed it too.