Chapter Text
Bachira was not jealous.
It hadn’t been the first time he and Isagi had been separated – hell, it was precisely because they had been apart that they had been able to grow stronger and develop their own play styles.
It also wasn’t the first time he and Isagi had made friends at Blue Lock besides each other. They’d both met people like Chigiri, Kunigami or Nagi, and they were all pretty close (at least Bachira thought they were – it’s not like he’d had the chance to know how it felt before coming to Blue Lock, but that wasn’t the issue at hand). Isagi had also made plenty of friends (and enemies) over at Bastard München – and that was okay, too!
… However, there were some things that, even though he was supposed to be happy about, made his chest feel all tight. Seeing Isagi celebrate his goals with his teammates was fine, they all got pretty touchy when it happened, drowning in the adrenaline of scoring. But as he was revisiting Bastard München’s latest match, Bachira couldn’t help but focus on how Isagi and Hiori kept clinging to each other well after scoring.
I thought Isagi only did that with me.
Bachira shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the actual match rather than between the interactions of the players. Still, it kept on lingering on his mind. As much as he enjoyed playing against Isagi, he also missed playing by on his side. He missed jumping on top of him whenever he scored. He missed revisiting strategies with Isagi while Bachira rested on his shoulder.
Knowing how Isagi loved to analyze tactics and take control of the field, Bachira had no doubt he was doing the same with Hiori his team right now. And of course he would! That was how soccer was played! They were egoists, after all, and egoists didn’t stick to one place. His soccer wasn’t going to be looking for someone forever, afraid of fighting alone.
But deep down, Bachira knew this wasn’t about soccer, but about his own feelings. Feelings he didn’t even know he had before coming to Blue Lock, but that had occasionally seeped through during his childhood, such as punching his classmates after they berated his interests and looks. Bits and pieces that Bachira had eventually put together in his mind, but shoved away, even when they threatened to come out. Like right now.
He really missed Isagi.
He curled on himself, hugging the pillow that was supposed to act as a seat on the cold tile floor. It oddly reminded him of that one underpass he hid under when his feelings got the worst of him, usually comforted by the monster, but still alone. Just thinking of that word made him tear up a little. What was he even doing? Wasn’t it weird for him to get stuck up on his even after all they’d gone through? What was he afraid of?
Suddenly, the words he told Isagi during the Second Selection popped into his mind.
If you want me, then steal me back.
Back then, it’d been a declaration – a promise to see each other again, even. Don’t wait for me, go after me. Let’s keep playing soccer together without holding back.
Next time, let’s meet as egoists aiming for the same goal.
He’d be stupid if he couldn’t even apply his own words to himself. Without turning off the TV, he ran outside, not wasting a second looking for Isagi until he found him. And he did. By sneaking into the German team’s stratum, but he did. It was the perfect chance. Isagi was his fated person, but Bachira wouldn’t wait for fate to catch up with them when Isagi was right in front of him.
He wouldn’t let go.
“Isagi!” he called out, draping himself all over Isagi’s back, keeping his balance the best he could as Isagi recovered from the scare.
“Bachira!” Isagi yelled back, still surprised. Bachira hoped he hadn’t actually worried him. “What are you doing here?”
“Isagi keeps replaying our matches in that room, right?” Well, Bachira didn’t know what Isagi had been doing, so he just projected his own situation. He knew Isagi well, though, and by his reaction, it seems like he’d been right. “So I thought I could surprise him!”
“And you sure did…”
He’d meant to keep the conversation going for a little longer – they had so much to catch up on, after all. However, all the crying from earlier had tired him out, and soon enough, he was out like a light, still clinging to Isagi, hoping at least part of his feelings would be conveyed.
And when he woke up the next day on Isagi’s bed, he knew he’d succeeded. He fell asleep again, and hoped Isagi would still be there for him.
But if he wasn’t, he’d just have to find him again. He’d make sure of it.