Even though the light is mostly shrouded by the covers, it doesn’t obstruct the light in Eduardo’s eyes – bright, hurt. Not like when he’d answered what had your shares been diluted to – that had been dull and old. This is new, like Mark has done something to fuck him over all over again.
When Shoyo comes back to the lockers because he’s forgotten his elbow pads, Kageyama’s there too, rustling with something in his bag. Shoyo feels his heart rate spike, consciously aware of every single one of his own movements. The tension lies thick in the room.