Do Calico Cats Like the Sun?

The roar on the court and the warm aroma of the bakery, the handwriting on the tactical board and the late night lamp, the four beams of light carve their own trajectory in the grinding world with their own arcs. Wood Rabbit's passion is always childlike and pure. During training, he would repeatedly adjust the height and rotation of the smash in order to catch each ball accurately. When scolded by the coach, he would only scratch his head and giggle, "The most important thing is to be comfortable with the grinder." After the game, he rushed over with the sweaty medal in hand and put the cold metal on his face. The light in his eyes was hotter than the spotlight on the podium. He remembers that two soft-boiled eggs must be placed in the ground ramen. Even the owner of the ramen shop knows that "two eggs are the standard order for wooden rabbits." Knowing that he is afraid of strangers, every party is like a beast protecting its cubs, standing in front of him and accepting all greetings. The phrase "I never liked you" that he had hidden for many years was more like a confession burned by the sun - he was afraid that his temperature would be too strong and would scorch the shade-loving plant, but during countless late nights when he was alone looking at the tactical board, he stared at the little sun painted on it in a daze, and his fingertips rubbed the small word "gna" next to it over and over again. After the reunion, he could not learn to beat around the bush, and would only say "I was wrong". When he was grinding and recovering and frowning in pain, he clumsily handed over a hot water bottle. He didn't say a word until he was burned, and just stared at his knees with red eyes. Gong Yoo's sharpness hides an awkward concern. He was a perfect setter on the court, shouting "You'd better react half a second faster", but he would be the first to notice the slight tremor in his knees during the timeout, and deliberately force him to take a rest by saying "You're so weak and can't catch my ball"; after training, he threw an ice bag at him, cursing him for being "slow and delaying things", but his eyes were fixed on his ice application, and he didn't turn around and leave until he was sure there was no problem. He remembers that at every time point in the grinding rehabilitation plan, a piece of paper would be suddenly thrown over one day, "This is a new training chart, more reliable than your previous one." In fact, it was revised after staying up late to check countless information; when someone questioned grinding's "slow condition", he could scold the other person to shut up, but turned around and handed grinding a bottle of warm water, the cap of which had already been loosened. His love is never soft words, it is the domineering "you can only catch my ball" and the determination of "we will shoulder the loss together", like putting all his armor on the world, leaving only his weakness to him - the person who can catch his most tricky pass. Miyaji's tenderness is always hidden in the most everyday folds. The warm light of the baking room floods the side of his face. When kneading the dough, he remembers grinding to avoid sweetness, and reduces the amount of sugar in the chestnut filling to just right. When baking dorayaki, he deliberately leaves an extra portion without filling, knowing that he occasionally wants to eat some simple wheat flavor. When I was in high school, I helped to organize rehabilitation notes. The handwriting was neater than my own wrong answer book. Even "the hot compress time should not exceed 15 minutes" was marked with a red pen. When I became an adult, I opened a store and specially placed a single sofa by the window with a brushed blanket. "It is most comfortable to watch the rain when it rains." He never said "I'm waiting for you", but he always left a light in the entrance hall when he came home from work late at night. When he was in a daze in front of the computer, he silently handed over the freshly baked dorayaki at the perfect temperature. When it comes to feelings, he is like a patient baker, slowly waiting for the dough to ferment and the frosting to solidify. Only when he is hesitating about grinding, he whispers "No matter what you choose, I will be here." His tone is as light as the frosting on Dorayaki, but it is so sweet that it is reassuring. Chiwei's restraint always breaks down at some point. His notebook is always well-organized. The first few pages are opponents' data, the middle is tactical analysis, and the last few pages contain Grindstone's rehabilitation records, which are as accurate as "Today the knee bend angle improved by 1 degree." During training, he calmly records every passing error, but when Grindstone accidentally falls, he will be the first to rush over, and the sweat on his palms will leave shallow marks on the record board. He never uses strong words, and hides "worry" in "the rehabilitation plan has changed" and wraps "concern" in "this angle puts less pressure on your knees"; when faced with the approach of others, he refuses gently but firmly, "there is no extra space in my plan." But this restraint would always get out of control: when he was grinding and saying "you are good to everyone", he would frown and retort "it is different for you" for the first time, with a tremor in his voice that he was not aware of; after an argument, he would stand downstairs in his apartment in the heavy rain, holding the revised rehabilitation form in his hand, just to say "I was wrong". His love is like a secret written in a tactical book. It seems calm, but there is a footnote of "making an exception for you" hidden on every page. Four beams of light, four temperatures. The blazing sun will temper your edge, the sharp light will hide the corners for you, the quiet warm light will stay bright for you, and the cool moonlight will make you lose control of your preference. With their own clumsiness and determination, they passed through the hustle and bustle of the stadium, the aroma of the bakery, and the handwriting on the tactical board. They all ended up in the same direction - wanting to give you the best. Intention: You know, every time I see your smile, my heart is like being pulled by an invisible thread, beating uncontrollably.