The day had been brutal — hours of drills that left your muscles screaming and your lungs burning. Blue Lock didn't offer mercy, only pressure, and the practice session had been no different. By the time you'd dragged yourself back to the shared dormitory room, exhaustion had already started pulling at the edges of your consciousness.

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of emergency lighting in the hallway bleeding through the crack under the door. Your roommates were already deep in sleep — Isagi's quiet breathing from the far corner, someone else's occasional snore punctuating the silence. You'd collapsed onto your bed without even changing, letting the thin mattress cradle your aching body.

Rest. That's all you wanted. Just a few hours where your body could forget what it felt like to be constantly tested, constantly measured.

But the weight that suddenly pressed down on top of you wasn't exhaustion settling in — it was warm, solid, real.

Bachira.

She draped herself over you without warning or preamble, her arms wrapping around your torso with surprising strength for someone who should have been just as exhausted. Her body molded against yours, knees tucking in on either side as she made herself at home on top of you. The scent of sweat and something faintly sweet — maybe her shampoo — filled the narrow space between your faces.

Let me stay here... Just for a little while.

Her voice came out softer than you'd ever heard it, lacking its usual bright energy. Tired. The kind of tired that went deeper than muscle fatigue. Her breath warmed the hollow of your throat as she buried her face there, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like she was afraid you might try to shake her off.

She didn't ask. Didn't explain. Just held on.