ᴀᴄʜʀᴏᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ | ɪɴᴀᴢᴜᴍᴀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

➥▮『ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟹𝟶』▯

A sudden surge of energy erupted as Kazemaru, propelled by determination, sprinted towards the incoming ball. With a resolute declaration, he summoned forth a doppelganger that swiftly coalesced into a protective barrier, aptly named "Spinning Fence." With remarkable finesse, Kazemaru landed gracefully on the ground, the ball firmly under his control.

The Koreans, caught off guard by Japan's unexpected defensive maneuver, faltered momentarily as their momentum was abruptly halted. Sensing the shift in momentum, Endou, the team's stalwart leader, seized the opportunity to rally his teammates.

"Guys, let's keep calm and do this!" Endou's voice resonated with authority as he implored his team to remain composed and resolute in the face of adversity.

"Yeah!" echoed the chorus of determined voices, each player recommitting themselves to the task at hand with renewed vigor.

Meanwhile, amidst the fervor of the game, your earlier interaction with Hiroto weighed heavily on your mind. You couldn't shake the feeling that your actions had unsettled him, leaving his thoughts in disarray and his expression clouded with confusion and frustration.

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Despite your awareness of their cheating and violent play, you found yourself unable to intervene, not out of laziness, but due to a deeper realization. Your logical mind pieced together the puzzle, recognizing the futility of attempting to halt their misconduct.

It wasn't a matter of apathy or indifference, but rather an acceptance of the inevitable course of events. Even as you occupied someone else's spot in the game, you understood that the stort would unfold regardless of your presence.

Interference seemed futile, rendered irrelevant by the inexorable progression of the plot.

In the end, Goenji injured himself due to the actions of the players.

You stood, devoid of emotion, your expression neutral as you gazed down at Goenji clutching his knee and conversing with Kidou.

It felt familiar.

Hollow.

You couldn't quite place it, but emptiness consumed you in this moment. Was it because of the uncertainty of returning home? Or perhaps the frustration of not being able to confront the Korean the way you wanted to.

You weren't sure.

Unintentionally, your gaze drifted to the red-clad figure from Korea, and he met your dead-eyed stare head-on. Never before had he felt such a chilling sense of fear.

"Hiroto-kun, start warming up," the coach commanded, oblivious to your reaction as he faced away from you.

Your relentless glare persisted, unyielding as you brought your hand up to your face, rubbing your tired eyes in an attempt to dispel the inner turmoil raging within. Amidst the internal conflict swirling within your mind, a sinking realization began to take hold - the impending loss of a once-prized privilege: the opportunity to rest on the bench.

Each rub against your eyelids served as a reminder of the fading comfort you had grown accustomed to, a luxury soon to be stripped away by the unfolding events on the field.

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As you brushed the dust off your shirt, Hiroto seized your hand, pulling you onto the field with determined resolve. Standing side by side, you and Hiroto faced the upcoming challenge head-on.