Thursday afternoon.
The school buzzed with excitement. Posters were plastered across the halls — "Eastside vs Hoshikawa – Friday!" — and students wore team scarves and jerseys, hyped for the biggest football match of the year.
Gojo Namena walked through the crowd like a man on a mission, earbuds in, his playlist a mix of piano instrumentals and motivational anthems. One particular song — the soft melody Hinata played the first day he saw her — had been stuck in his head. It didn't just calm him. It centered him.
He had been practicing harder than ever. His legs were sore, his arms bruised from drills, but he hadn't let up.
Still, something was missing — her.
As he turned the corner near the music wing, fate intervened.
There she was.
Hinata Aoki stood by the bulletin board, pinning a recital flyer with both hands. Her long black hair was tied up today, and she was humming a soft tune under her breath — the same one he'd memorized since that first encounter.
He stopped walking, removed his earbuds.
She noticed.
"Oh. Gojo," she said, startled but composed. "Training hard?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Harder than I ever have."
"I heard you stayed after practice again," she said, arms crossed but a faint smile playing on her lips. "Coach Nakamura told my homeroom teacher you're 'possessed.'"
Gojo chuckled. "Maybe I am."
Hinata tilted her head. "You're doing all this for me?"
He hesitated for just a second, then looked her dead in the eyes.
"Yeah," he said. "Every sprint, every shot, every bruise — it's all for you."
Hinata blinked, and before she could stop herself, a warm blush crept across her cheeks. She quickly looked away, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"…Idiot," she mumbled under her breath — but her voice had lost all sharpness.
Then, quietly: "What if you don't win?"
Gojo's smile faded. He took a breath and stepped a little closer.
"Then I'll still stand in front of you," he said, voice low and steady. "And I'll tell you again that I like you. Because this… it's not just about a scoreboard. It's about showing you I'm not afraid to lose if it means being honest."
Her eyes met his.
There was silence.
Then, softer than before: "I'll be at the game."
Gojo's eyes lit up, surprised but steady.
"Then I'll give you something worth watching," he said. "Something you won't forget."
And just like that, she turned and walked away, her recital flyer fluttering gently on the board behind her — but the blush still lingered on her face.
******
That night, Gojo lay in bed, eyes wide open. He replayed their conversation over and over, every word etched into his thoughts.
Tomorrow was the match.
And whether the scoreboard favored him or not, Gojo Namena was ready to put his heart on the line.
*******
Meanwhile — across town — in her bedroom, Hinata Aoki sat by the window.
The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across her room. Her open piano sheet lay untouched on the desk, the notes blurring as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
She wasn't thinking about the recital anymore.
She was thinking about him.
Gojo Namena — the school's star forward, the loudmouth who always had a joke, the guy who never seemed to take anything seriously… until he stood in front of her and said, "Every bruise is for you."
Her cheeks grew warm again just remembering it.
She pressed her hands to her face and groaned softly. "Why does he say things like that with a straight face…"
She picked up her phone and opened her messages. No new texts. Not from him, anyway. Of course not — he was probably already asleep, getting ready for the big day.
Or maybe he couldn't sleep either.
What if he loses?
What if I made him feel like he has to win just to earn a chance with me?
The guilt tugged at her chest, but then she remembered how he looked — not desperate or frantic, but determined. Like he wasn't just trying to impress her, but trying to become someone better because of her.
That made something ache in her chest.
A knock at the door broke her out of her spiral.
"Come in," she called.
Her best friend, Yuki, peeked in and stepped inside. "You're still up? I thought you'd be sleeping before your recital prep tomorrow."
Hinata closed her notebook slowly. "…I'm going to the game."
Yuki blinked. "What? You? Since when do you care about football?"
Hinata didn't answer right away. Then she smiled, a little embarrassed.
"Since the boy who always laughs got really serious… and told me he likes me."
Yuki's eyes widened. "Wait—Gojo told you that?"
Hinata gave a soft nod, eyes drifting back toward the moonlit sky.
"And now… I want to see what he does when the whole school's watching. Not because I need him to prove anything, but because I think… he really means it."
Yuki stared at her for a beat, then grinned. "Girl. You're blushing."
Hinata swatted at her with a pillow, but the warmth in her cheeks stayed.
*****
Tomorrow would be loud. Chaotic. Emotional.
But tonight?
Tonight was quiet.
And in that stillness, Hinata Aoki admitted to herself what she hadn't said out loud:
She wanted him to win. Not just the game.
She wanted him to win… her.