Valtteri’s gaze slides from Lewis’s crooked feather up to Seb’s face again. He tilts his head as his lips twitch in a small, resigned smile, as if to say, I understand.

Seb is not the only one who should be Lewis’s flock, but isn’t.

Seb returns Valtteri’s smile with a wry one of his own, and turns back to the briefing.

He thinks of teammates and... See more

The silver arrow hunts the bull, but when the bull bleeds, it bleeds red, and its golden horns turn sharp.

He wishes he could speak Japanese here – there are thousand different polite but firm phrases in Japanese that could communicate what Yuki is feeling in this moment, and none in English that adequately express what he wishes.