𝟸 & 𝟺

-sixteen-

Boundaries existed. They were around people in years before they became a social idea.

Boundaries of walls, borders, lines drawn in the sand. Signifying where one territory started, and where one ended.

How boundaries separated classified areas, the doors of rooms justifying the entrance and exit of those boundaries.

Physical boundaries: the maps in which cut off personal realms and just where you stood with someone, in many aspects.

Mental boundaries: Guards. Walls. Barriers. What you kept up to keep things out. Invasives. Intruders.

Social boundaries: the w's of life. Who and the what in the where, but when with the why. Everything was a story, and every story was everything. Discrepancies and locations.

A place for everything, and everything in its place, essentially.

But the rest only tied in afterwards. Just how you stood just outside the boundary of the Senseki gym, for example.

The days prior had flashed by, including the fiasco of the game against Shiratorizawa. The contents shall never be revisited.

The plays kept fallen apart, important parts being misplaced or severely forgotten.

The timing was spontaneous. Consistency never existed within you both.

The after math...

In the dark hallway...

With only the mirrored image of the dim street lights to witness...

You couldn't finish your thought as another dove it, sinking itself deep among the rest of your boundary defying ideas, paddling along and nestling thin within your mind.

The idea travelled through the main doors, stepping into the same light you stood within. It began to breathe the air you had just recycled, watching as the particles travelled in,

and outwards into the atmosphere. Carbon dioxide surrounded you both, such a similarity. He took the same steps to be just in the same area as you stood.

Your guard was high. Boundary protected. Set on high motion till further notice.

Till this overwhelming feeling of being shooken was settled.

When his prescience didn't want to make you run for the open hills, away from the discomfort of your own torment.

He was only him. He did nothing wrong.

But test your boundaries, because he cared.

Too much.

"Hi..." he kindly spoke, unsure of what to say. You could tell just how uncomfortable he was as well. The way his body tried to hide itself in the open, arms connected behind his back and his hips folded inward. His forehead almost parallel to the floor, eyes drifted away lest he contact your lost gaze.

You looked up, gave an attentive nod, and looked away. It didn't help that he was now looking to you, as you were looking elsewhere.

He looked to his phone, the bright screen illuminated his face. He saw the time was well before the start of the game. Being the 3rd match of the regular games, he was in no way, anymore, thrilled.

He just wanted to see the end, hoping for a good result.

Physically, to you, that's what he showed. Secretly, he had his mind racing around as his conscience chased after trying to collect himself. He was beyond optimistic, hopeful and reckless with ideas as to how he would take you. Take you to the tournament, to nationals. To the Asian Championships, so to say they had them. He was far more invested than he let you see.