THE PAIN - Inazuma Eleven Go Fanfic

CHAPTER 71: SCARED

Her thoughts spiraled back through everything—his quiet restraint, the deliberate way he had kept himself at a distance, even while lending Raimon a guiding hand. The flickers of warmth, yes, but always with that invisible line drawn between them. And Shizen... their strange hostility toward Raimon, their guarded edge.

It all made sense now.

The shrill sound of a whistle cut through her haze. Aoi blinked, startled back into the present as the children's laughter swelled one last time before fading into tired chatter. Training had come to an end. Little by little, the players retreated toward the benches, wiping sweat from their brows, their small bodies sagging with exhaustion and satisfaction alike.

Arion trailed behind them, his steps unhurried, his hands resting lightly on Kiyoshi's shoulders as the boy carried the ball under one arm. He was smiling faintly, listening as the children chattered at him, their voices tumbling over one another in excitement. He didn't speak much, but his presence alone steadied them, as though the glow of his approval was enough to keep them proud of every clumsy kick and near-miss.

Aoi watched him closely, her pulse still uneven. To the children, he was just 'Coach Nii-san'—the older brother who played with them, who corrected their stances, who laughed with them. But to her... she now saw the boy who had once led Raimon with boundless optimism, now tempered into someone quieter, steadier, older than his years.

Coach Riku stepped forward as the last drill wound down, clapping his hands together with a sharp but warm finality. "Alright, that's enough for today!" he called, his voice carrying across the field. "Good work, everyone. Grab your things, cool down, and don't forget to rest up. Tomorrow, you'll need those legs fresh again."

The children groaned half-heartedly but obeyed, dragging themselves toward the benches where their bags waited. Some plopped down with dramatic sighs, others giggled as they compared grass stains and sweaty hair, but one by one they began to gather their belongings. Riku moved among them with practiced ease, offering a pat on the shoulder here, a quick correction on posture there, his presence like the steady anchor of a ship's captain.

Arion remained close, crouching to help Kiyoshi tie his shoelaces properly this time. The boy beamed up at him, clutching the ball proudly under his arm as if it were a treasure. Aoi's chest tightened at the sight—at the tenderness woven so effortlessly into the simple gesture.

Eventually, the tide of children began to ebb away. Parents arrived at the edge of the field, voices calling, hands waving. Excitement shifted into farewells, and soon the little group thinned into nothing more than scattered laughter disappearing down the road.

The field grew quiet again.

Riku lingered only long enough to ensure everyone had gone before turning back toward Arion. The older man's sharp eyes softened as he regarded him, arms folding across his chest. "Good work today," he said simply, the weight of gratitude carried in his tone. "The kids are always happiest when you're around."

Arion gave a small shake of his head, though the corner of his mouth lifted faintly. "They're the ones who did the hard work."

Riku chuckled under his breath, as though unsurprised by the reply. "Still," he murmured, resting a hand briefly on the younger man's shoulder, "thank you, Arion."

There was a pause, an unspoken understanding passing between them, before Riku finally stepped back. "I'll see you around."

Turning to Aoi, his gaze sharpened with polite warmth. "Nice meeting you, Sorano-chan."

And with that, he gathered his things and strode off the field, his figure growing smaller against the dying light of the day. The sound of his footsteps faded, leaving only the three of them—Aoi, Arion, and Kiyoshi—standing in the quiet glow of the late afternoon.