Through the Rivalry, to You

The Lines We Cross

The confession played on an endless loop in Isagi's head. "I can't stop thinking about you." No matter how many times he replayed it, the meaning stayed the same, and it left Isagi in a state of constant, confused tension.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Or about Rin. Was this still about soccer? About their rivalry? Or was there something more, something neither of them could fully understand yet?

Whatever it was, it was messing with Isagi's focus.

The next morning, as the team gathered for practice, Isagi's gaze kept drifting toward Rin. He hadn't seen him since that moment in the hallway, and now, standing across the field from him, Rin looked as composed as ever. As if nothing had changed.

But something had changed. Isagi could feel it in every glance, every pass. It was like a shadow hanging over them, lingering between every breath, every heartbeat.

Ego's voice snapped through the air, pulling Isagi's attention back to the present. The team was gearing up for another match—a rematch, this time, against the same players they had drawn with the day before. Only now, the stakes were even higher.

"This is your last chance to prove that you two can function as a team," Ego said, his cold eyes flicking between Rin and Isagi. "If you can't pull this off, you're both done here."

The weight of his words settled over them like a lead blanket. Isagi swallowed hard, glancing at Rin, who was standing stiffly beside him, his face a mask of determination.

"We've got this," Isagi muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Rin.

Rin didn't respond, but Isagi could feel the tension radiating from him. It wasn't just about the game anymore. It was about everything that had happened between them—everything they were trying to ignore but couldn't.

The whistle blew, and the match began. The opposing team was just as aggressive as before, their eyes locked on Rin and Isagi with a predatory gleam. Isagi could feel their intent—they wanted to break the two of them apart, disrupt the fragile balance they'd found on the field.

But despite the pressure, something clicked between them. Even with everything that had happened—maybe because of it—they were in sync. Every pass, every play, was perfectly timed. Rin moved with his usual precision, and Isagi followed without hesitation, their connection more fluid than ever.

They were dominating the game.

But Isagi couldn't shake the strange, twisting feeling in his chest. Every time he passed to Rin, every time their eyes met on the field, that tension resurfaced, threatening to pull his focus away from the game.

And Rin wasn't immune either.

At one point, with the ball at his feet and the goal wide open, Rin hesitated again. Just for a second. But it was enough for the opposing defender to close the gap, forcing Rin to pass the ball back to Isagi instead of taking the shot himself.

Isagi barely managed to make the play, scoring with a lucky strike. But instead of celebrating, he turned to Rin, breathless and confused.

"Why didn't you take the shot?" Isagi asked as they jogged back into position.

Rin's eyes were dark, his face unreadable. "Shut up and focus."

Isagi's frustration boiled over, but there was no time to argue. The game wasn't over yet. But the questions gnawed at him, just beneath the surface. Why was Rin hesitating? What was holding him back?

And why did Isagi care so much

The match ended with a narrow victory for their team, and the relief that washed over Isagi was tinged with exhaustion. But as the rest of the players gathered to celebrate, Rin stalked off the field without a word, his expression colder than ever.

Isagi hesitated, watching him go. He knew he shouldn't follow—shouldn't push Rin any further. But something inside him refused to let it go.

He found Rin alone in the training room, pacing back and forth with a stormy look in his eyes. Isagi's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped into the room, the silence between them thick and heavy.

"Why are you avoiding this?" Isagi asked, his voice quieter than he intended. "Whatever's going on with you... it's affecting both of us."

Rin stopped pacing, his hands clenching into fists. "I'm not avoiding anything."

"Yes, you are," Isagi pressed, stepping closer. "I know you, Rin. You're not playing like yourself. You're holding back."

Rin's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't know anything."

"Then tell me what's going on!" Isagi's voice rose, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Stop shutting me out and just—just talk to me."

The words hung in the air, heavy with all the tension that had been building between them for weeks. Isagi's heart was pounding in his chest, his emotions a confusing mess of anger, confusion, and something else—something he wasn't ready to name.

Rin glared at him, his eyes hard and unyielding. But there was something else there too—something raw and vulnerable, just beneath the surface.

"I told you," Rin said, his voice low and strained. "I can't lose to you."

"You already said that. But we're not rivals anymore, Rin. We're on the same team," Isagi said, his tone softening. "Why are you making this so complicated?"

Rin's jaw clenched, his body tense with barely contained frustration. "Because it is complicated."

The confession hung in the air, raw and unguarded. Isagi stared at him, his breath catching in his throat. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond to the turmoil he could see in Rin's eyes.

But before he could even begin to process it, Rin took a step closer, closing the distance between them in a single heartbeat.

Isagi's pulse raced, his heart hammering in his chest as Rin's intense gaze bore into him. The air between them crackled with tension, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the rivalry, the pressure, the game. It was just the two of them, standing on the edge of something neither of them could quite define.

Rin's voice was barely a whisper when he spoke again, his words laced with frustration and something dangerously close to desperation.

"I don't know how to stop thinking about you."

The admission hit Isagi like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. His heart pounded, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. He didn't know what to say—didn't know how to handle the intensity of Rin's confession.

But before he could respond, Rin stepped back, his expression closing off again, the vulnerability disappearing behind a mask of cold indifference.

"This doesn't change anything," Rin muttered, turning away. "Don't get in my way."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Isagi standing in the empty room, breathless and shaken.

A/n: Hey guys sorry I haven't posted in a while. My science teacher is a bitch. Anyways enjoy!!!!!!