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@cursedfell's chigiri hyoma & the fate

𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩, for someone who flinches away from being just a tad too close during progress reports ; is it really a joke made for his rivals to laugh about, or is there something genuine that lingers in the usually cold tone of voice?

oh, to be protected like that — to be pulled away from danger, held close, safe and sound. oh, to have someone jump head first into fight just to be pulled away from harm's way. oh, to be closer to hyoma chigiri.

but how does one express it, openly, especially when it's so entertaining to watch him all flustered & stuttering, with his head down as to avoid looking directly into the other's eyes, even if they can't hold the gaze as they simply won't be able to see it. hyoma doesn't know that, yet, and it's amusing how badly he tries to hide his embarrassment now so easily recognized, and how funny it is to see him fail.

don't play favorites, ego said, and she really isn't, promise! but, she is a liar, an ugly ugly liar.

❝ if shidou hurts any of you, i'll make sure he pays the price, ❞ she offers before she takes another step closer, girlish giggle piercing through the deafening heartbeat of his. she leans just a tad, hands behind her back ; playfully, as to peek at his expression she won't see anyway.

❝ i'm not joking! ❞ she takes offense, a fake one, before a kiss is planted onto hyoma's cheek ; soft lips pressing a quick peck, then nimble feet stepping away. she's got her duties now — the room goes quiet.

❝ just wish, if there was ever danger coming my way, you'd be around to protect me. never thought ill be jealous of isagi, of all people. ❞

it's equally teasing as it is honesty ; jealousy not vile nor bitter but a stir in her gut that she wants to experience more and dissect into pieces — if anything, more curious about the sensation than wishing to get rid of it.

chigiri makes her feel all kinds of feelings. fascinating.

and it's so funny to leave him by himself now, all exposed to his rival's teasing and comments and gossip.

❝ if you win, ❞ she adds before she passes by him, back to the screens and keyboards and numbers and graphs, ❝ i'll let you kiss me back~ ❞

is that doping and unfair motivation? perhaps. will ego be mad? most likely. are her actions about to influence chigiri's performance on the field? mei is about to find out.

chigiri freezes, and for a heartbeat, it feels like the entire room goes quiet. the teasing lilt in her voice lingers, echoing in his mind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions he isn’t entirely equipped to process. his heart stutters, skipping beats in a rhythm he can’t control, pounding so loudly in his ears it almost drowns out the distant laughter of the others. her words crash into him like a wave, sweeping away his usual composure and leaving him floundering in unfamiliar waters. it isn’t every day a cute girl teases him like this—asks to give him a kiss on the cheek, of all things. the thought loops in his mind, unrelenting, tugging at his chest with an ache that feels equal parts exhilarating and overwhelming.

his heart pounds so fiercely he wonders if she can hear it. each beat reverberates through his body, echoing in his ears, thrumming in his veins. it’s not the same as the rush he feels when he’s on the field, running faster than anyone else, defying every limit set before him. no, this is different—chaotic and raw, leaving him unsteady on his feet. he doesn’t know what to make of it. is it embarrassment? irritation? or is it something else entirely, something more unsettling? the way her words stir something deep within him, something he’s not sure he wants to face, leaves him disoriented. it gnaws at him, this unfamiliar sensation, twisting in his chest like a knot he can’t untangle.

his gaze darts to her, but it doesn’t hold; it slips away just as quickly, landing somewhere on the floor, where it feels safer—less dangerous. his cheeks flare a shade of red that burns hotter than anything he’s ever felt running on the field. he ducks his head further, hiding his face behind the crimson veil of his hair, as if that alone could shield him from the weight of her words. she's close now, closer than he expected, and the air around him feels charged, heavy. his mind races, grasping for something—anything—to say, but the words remain tangled in his throat, caught somewhere between flustered indignation and an inexplicable, budding warmth.

he tells himself it’s just the situation—that anyone would feel flustered if they were in his place—but the warmth creeping up his neck and the butterflies erupting in his stomach tell another story. he can’t decide if he wants to run away or if he wants to stand still, to let her words linger a little longer. chigiri’s gaze stays firmly fixed on the floor, as though meeting her eyes might unravel him completely. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, desperate for something to anchor him. his voice, when it comes, is soft, almost uncertain. “i-it’s not… you don’t need to joke about stuff like that,” he says, but the words lack bite, coming out almost as a plea rather than a reprimand. they spill out too quickly, uneven, betraying the calm façade he’s desperate to maintain.

he doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that she said it so boldly, so casually, or the fact that some small part of him wonders—briefly, fleetingly—what it might feel like if she did. his fingers twitch at his sides, wanting to do something, to move, to dispel the tension that clings to him like static. but all he can do is stand there, still as stone, hoping the fire in his cheeks will eventually fade.