A Reluctant Step Forward

The steady rhythm of the rain against the window filled the quiet classroom. Gabriel sat near the back, his elbow resting on the desk, chin in his palm. The teacher droned on about something he wasn't paying attention to, and his mind was elsewhere—still stuck on Kenta's words from lunch.

"You love football. So why?"

He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening into a fist. He didn't owe anyone an explanation.

The classroom buzzed softly as students scribbled in their notebooks. Across from him, Ryota lazily spun his pencil between his fingers, occasionally glancing at Gabriel like he was waiting for him to snap.

Eventually, the final bell rang. Students shuffled out, talking about the rain, their weekend plans, anything and everything Gabriel had no interest in. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, planning to go straight home.

"Oi, Gabriel."

He turned, finding Kenta standing near the door. His expression was unreadable.

"What?" Gabriel asked flatly.

Kenta didn't back down. "Come with us."

Gabriel frowned. "For what?"

Ryota appeared beside him, grinning. "Some of us are heading to the arcade. You look like you need to punch something, so I figured I'd give you a chance to try and beat me at something."

"I'm not interested."

Kenta sighed. "You don't even know what we're doing yet."

"I don't care." Gabriel adjusted his bag and stepped past them.

Daichi, who had been lingering nearby, leaned in with a teasing grin. "What, afraid of losing?"

Gabriel paused. Then scoffed. "You guys must be really desperate if you're inviting me."

Ayane, standing beside Daichi, rolled her eyes. "Just take the invitation, genius."

For a second, Gabriel considered walking away. But then he thought about the silence waiting for him at home—.

"…Fine."

Ryota clapped him on the back. "See? That wasn't so hard."

The arcade was loud—neon lights flickering, the hum of machines, the clash of buttons being pressed too aggressively. Gabriel watched as Daichi and Kenta argued over a claw machine, while Ayane challenged Ryota to a rhythm game.

Gabriel stood by a punching machine, arms crossed. This wasn't his scene.

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere else," Kenta said, appearing beside him.

Gabriel shrugged. "Its that obvious?"

Kenta smirked. "Maybe." He eyed the punching machine. "Wanna give it a try?"

Gabriel glanced at it. "No point."

Kenta raised an eyebrow. "What, scared you'll lose?"

Gabriel exhaled through his nose, then stepped up. He cracked his knuckles, pulled back his fist, and let it fly. The machine rattled from the impact.

High Score: 900

Daichi whistled. "Damn. What did that machine do to you?"

Gabriel ignored him, stepping back. Kenta grinned and took his turn, but his punch didn't come close to Gabriel's score.

Ryota appeared behind them. "So, Gabriel's a freak in football and at throwing punches. Remind me never to piss you off too much."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but for once, he didn't feel like walking away.

Maybe—just maybe—these guys weren't as annoying as he thought.

And maybe he wasn't as alone as he pretended to be he just didn't know how to express himself.

The rain hadn't stopped by the time they left the arcade. It was a steady drizzle, misting over the streets and making the neon signs shimmer against the wet pavement. Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked slightly behind the others, half-listening to their conversation.

"That was so unfair," Ayane complained, nudging Ryota in the ribs. "You totally cheated during that last round."

Ryota gasped, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Excuse me? I have no idea what you're talking about. I won fair and square."

Daichi snorted. "You literally blocked her screen with your arm."

"That's what we called a strategy," Ryota said, smirking.

Ayane groaned. "You are the worst."

Gabriel found himself watching them, the easy way they bantered with each other. It was different from what he was used to—loud but not hostile, teasing but not cruel. He had never been good at this kind of thing, at just… being part of a group.

Not that he wanted to be.

"You look like you've got something to say," Kenta said, falling into step beside him.

Gabriel scoffed. "And if I did?"

Kenta shrugged. "Maybe you should try actually saying it instead of standing there like some mysterious loner."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I'm not a loner."

Ryota, who had apparently been eavesdropping, turned around and walked backward to face them. "Bro, you literally eat lunch alone and barely talk to anyone. That's the definition of a loner."

"I talk," Gabriel muttered.

"Grunting doesn't count," Daichi chimed in.

Ayane giggled. "Yeah, you kind of have this whole 'too cool for everyone' vibe going on."

Gabriel clicked his tongue. "Maybe I just don't like talking."

"Or," Ryota said, tilting his head, "you just don't know how."

Gabriel's steps faltered slightly.

He hated how that struck a little too close to home.

The group reached a street corner where they would have to split off. Kenta stretched his arms over his head. "Alright, this was fun. Let's do it again sometime."

"Yeah," Daichi agreed. "Maybe next time, Gabriel won't be so grumpy."

Gabriel scowled. "I wasn't—"

"Bye, grumpy," Daichi said, waving as he and Ayane turned down a different street.

Gabriel let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Idiots."

"Come on, I'll walk with you," Ryota said, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as they headed in the same direction.

They walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps mixing with the rain.

Gabriel found himself thinking back to earlier—to the arcade, to the way they had so easily included him. He had expected to feel annoyed, out of place. But instead…

It hadn't been that bad.

Still, he didn't get why they even wanted him around. It wasn't like he made an effort to be friendly.

"Why'd you invite me?" he asked suddenly.

Ryota glanced at him. "Huh?"

Gabriel kept his gaze ahead. "To the arcade. You could've just gone with your usual friends. So why ask me?"

Ryota was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "Felt like it."

Gabriel frowned. "That's not an answer."

"Sure it is."

Gabriel huffed. "You're annoying."

Ryota grinned. "And yet, you still came."

Gabriel clicked his tongue, kicking a stray rock. "Shut up."

They reached Gabriel's house, and he hesitated at the entrance. He wasn't sure why—usually, he couldn't wait to be alone again.

Ryota stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets. "You coming to school early tomorrow?"

Gabriel frowned. "Why?"

"We usually mess around with the ball before class."

Gabriel hesitated. "I'm not joining your team."

Ryota smirked. "I didn't say anything about the team."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

"…I'll think about it."

Ryota grinned wider. "See you then."

What the hell was he getting himself into?

The next morning, Gabriel found himself at school earlier than usual. He told himself it wasn't because of what Ryota said. He just… didn't feel like being at home.

Sure enough, Ryota, Kenta, and a couple of others were in the schoolyard, passing a ball around. Gabriel lingered near the entrance, watching.

Ryota spotted him first and grinned. "Look who actually showed up."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

Kenta passed him the ball. "Are you playing or did you will just standing here like a flag?"

Gabriel caught it with his foot and balanced it effortlessly. "Depends. Do I get anything out of it?"

Ryota smirked. "The satisfaction of humiliating us?"

Gabriel smirked back. "Sounds tempting."

He joined in. The others wasn't that good, but it was obvious they played more for fun than competition.

Still, there was something different about this kind of play—no pressure, no expectations. Just the ball, the movement, the game.

And for a while…

It felt fun.

"You're smiling," Kenta pointed out, smirking.

Gabriel immediately dropped his expression. "No, I'm not."

Daichi laughed. "Bro, we saw it."

Gabriel scowled, but it was half-hearted.

He hated to admit it, but maybe… just maybe…

This wasn't so bad.

And maybe, he didn't hate the idea of sticking around after all.