Chapter Text
Kazemaru disliked Fudou. He disliked every word he talked, the way he flipped his hair, how his eyes got smaller when he snickered. Everything.
He might have been a priceless asset in the match against Korea, but he couldn’t brush aside the fact that he had been individualistic, presumptuous and rude. That's when the hatred was born: Kazemaru couldn’t stand such egotistical attitude. Who did he think he was anyway? Behaving all arrogant and cunning was not something to be proud of, even if he did have the talent he so much despised the others for lacking. It didn’t matter, it was petulant and disagreeable. Fudou was good at football, sure, but he wasn’t alone out there. There were ten other people on the field that were as important as him in the road to victory. Disrespecting them should be enough to question whether he was a liability.
Although Kazemaru had to admit that, despite his poor bonding capacity, the guy did know how to bring the best out of everyone’s abilities. Maybe that was what bothered him so much: Fudou bragged but never disappointed. He knew how to turn the tables when the odds seemed against them and exploited their teammates’ potential to the limit, even if it was accompanied by endless insults and denigrations.
Kazemaru was a little jealous, truth be told. He had always strived to be the best, yet Fudou, whom he deemed too conceited to be on a team whatsoever, outdid him in every way possible. Little mattered how much he trained, how much of his blood and sweat he sacrificed; Kazemaru was cursed to prosper in the shadows of others, never good enough to shine on his own.
It was pathetic. And it was the only thing he could aspire to be.
The defender sighed, tears wetting his eyes. Mediocrity was inherently tied to his person, so much he wasn’t sure he’d know himself anymore if he were to succeed. That’s why he tried so incredibly hard, though, to finally get rid of the shameful, awkward teenager he was. To finally become someone deserving of standing by Endou’s side.
Kazemaru seeked pride with the naturality one seeks water or food. He needed it, and he would fight to feel worthy of it.
Lost in his thoughts, the boy didn’t notice when someone kicked the nearest ball to his direction, aiming at his stomach. Once it hit, the pain started dull, and eventually creeped up to an unbearable throb that made him flinch in discomfort. Now he was crying. Red from the embarrassment, Kazemaru wiped the tears, hoping no one had seen them, and faced the attacker, a furious scowl on his face.
"What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?" He spit the words as if they were venom.
"Coach has asked us to pair up, and you looked distracted so I thought I’d help you snap out of it." Fudou smiled. "I’m a ray of sunshine, aren’t I?"
Of course. He should have called it. Who else would do something like that, if not the biggest jerk in the world Fudou Akio? Kazemaru huffed, the pain lingering in his torso.
"Get lost, then. I have to find a partner."
"Lucky you, I am your partner."
"… You’re what now?"
"Everyone else is paired up already. Nobody wanted to do the drills with me, and you were too deep in thought to notice anything, so…" Fudou put an arm around his shoulders. "We are now bound to be together.
That had to be a goddamn joke. Out of all people... Him? Really? When had fate become so petty?
"I can’t believe it…" Kazemaru mumbled in incredulity. That made Fudou frown.
"Hey, don’t bitch about it, you should be glad. I happen to be great at connecting passes."
"And what does that have to do with the conversation?"
Fudou laughed heartily, clearly amused at Kazemaru’s confusion. His big, smug grin made the defender feel vulnerable, his face suddenly warmer.
"You really were spaced out, huh? That’s what the drills are about today, pretty boy."
Kazemaru lost his breath once he heard the nickname.
"Don’t call me that," he said, bewildered. Fudou, however, just snickered at the other’s flushed cheeks. His derision had Kazemaru feeling both astonished and irritated.
"Whatever. And this time, make sure not to zone out, alright?" He got closer. "I want all your attention on me."
Kazemaru nearly choked on air when he heard that. His blush darkened remarkably, which delighted Fudou greatly. As he got away, he dedicated him a last scornful smile. Kazemaru stared, baffled; how could someone so mean be so charming at the very same time? He immediately disregarded that thought and went to fetch a ball, trying to calm the rapidness of his heart.
He sighed. Kazemaru had the feeling he would be doing that a lot during those drills.
"Let’s get this over with."
Kazemaru couldn’t help but notice how well the suit fitted him. It hugged his body nicely, making him look slim and elegant. He smiled, feeling, for once, handsome. Usually, he was quite strict with his appearance, just as he was with his game. He seldom thought of himself as anything else but average: his skills were ordinary and so were his looks. All the same, at that moment, he did feel positive about his image, so much he couldn’t stop staring. It’s just… Kazemaru wasn’t used to liking what he saw in the mirror. It was revolutionary in the best way possible.
After a minute or two, he decided enough was enough and got out of the room, his ego not needing to be inflated any more. He went down the stairs with light steps and was met in the living room by practically everybody else. His teammates looked as neat as he did. Being accustomed to seeing them sweaty and grimy, mud over their legs and clothes, it was kind of weird. However, Kazemaru had to say they all appeared very proper and good-looking.
Gouenji waved his hand once he saw Kazemaru arrive, and started to walk towards him. His beauty was shining even more that evening. “Must be the tie”, Kazemaru thought. Either way, Gouenji looked spectacular.
"Aren’t you a sight!" His friend complimented. "You look fantastic."
"So do you! It is strange, though, being all dressed up."
"Tell me about it, I’m pretty sure I’ve been wearing sportswear exclusively for the past year."
"I guess winning the Football Frontier tournament took most of our time away," Kazemaru chuckled.
"Yeah, as well as fighting against aliens. All we did was train."
Now, that didn’t bring as pleasant memories as the FF did. The Aliea Academy had only meant pain and frustration to Kazemaru. The whole situation had made his self-esteem dwindle, and he didn’t enjoy remembering the terrible mistakes he had committed. Gouenji, noticing his abrupt silence, tried to change the subject.
"Have you ever been to a ball before?" He asked, apologetic. "I mean, I appreciate that the Knights of Queen has invited us, but I don’t quite know what to do with myself."
"Me neither, to be honest. It feels foreign."
"I guess we should take it as an opportunity to make new friends or something, right?"
Kazemaru didn’t look forward to such a thing, but grinned nonetheless.
"Careful, you're starting to sound like Endou."
When Gouenji was about to respond, though, the girls arrived, and everyone went silent. They looked… stunning. Haruna was wearing this puffy-sleeved dress with frills of a lovely shade of pink that complimented the color of her glasses. Fuyuka, on the other hand, had put on a long white gown, plain but very becoming, with a big purple flower on her waist. She had also styled her hair with a bow, which made her look adorable. Aki was wearing a blue-toned dress that had pink and green accents. A headband of those same colors adorned her hair. Kazemaru wasn’t fond of any of the girls that way, but… even he blushed a little bit at the sight of them.
"Not bad," he heard Fudou say behind him, "but I think you’d pull it off better. "
"Oh, shut up." Kazemaru tried to sound edgy, but a certain redness colored his ears. Fudou tittered when he noticed.
Now that everyone was there (except the captain, but Aki assured she would take care of that), they started to make their way to the British zone. Kazemaru's first impression of the place wasn’t exactly positive. It was very classy, but too contemptuous for his taste. It was as if they were trying to show off their superiority; the whole place harbored a fake feeling that made him uncomfortable. It didn’t feel authentic nor welcoming. If anything, he felt judged, demanding eyes all over his figure.
Kazemaru started to feel self conscious, whether for the few locks that escaped his ponytail or the callouses of his hands. With each second that passed, he found a new fault to be ashamed of.
When they arrived, the chaste party began; it was lively and his friends seemed to be having fun, but Kazemaru stayed in the corner, where no one would pay attention to him. If he didn’t exist, neither did his flaws.
The only one who noticed his distance was none other than Fudou. Kazemaru cursed under his breath when he saw him approaching, his hands in his pockets and a presumptuous grin on his lips that seemed to be mocking him.
"Your presence is not welcome, Fudou."
"I couldn’t care less whether you enjoy it or not. I can be here if I wish to, you know? Or does this corner belong to you?"
"Cut it out. What do you want?" Kazemaru knew better than to expect sympathy from the boy. There were two plausible options: he either needed something or, on the other hand, wanted to make fun of him. He didn’t trust there was another explanation.
In spite of his suspicions, Fudou’s expression softened. His deep blue eyes found Kazemaru’s.
"You came across as if you could use some company."
"… Wait, you are not gonna pick on me or something? Are you being nice for real?"
"Why would I be shitty to you? What have I done for you to think so low of me?"
"Well, what haven’t you done?"
"… Yeah, good point," Fudou laughed, not even a flicker of guilt in his voice. "But I didn’t come here to pick up a fight. I just wanted to check on you."
That was… uncanny in a sense. Maybe Kazemaru had misjudged him a little bit.
"Are you okay?" The worry in his voice seemed genuine.
"I guess I feel out of place." Before Kazemaru could stop himself, the words had already slid from his mouth. "It’s just… everyone else looks so perfect. And I… don’t. I look like myself."
“Which isn’t enough”, he managed to avoid saying, biting his tongue. Kazemaru couldn't help but sigh; his confidence was nowhere to be seen, no longer feeling like he looked handsome.
And, while everything he had said was true - at least as far as he was concerned -, confessing it to Fudou had him now regretting it. How come he had told him? He would surely poke fun at him for being so stupid, so pathetic, so weak… So ugly. Kazemaru hugged himself and closed his eyes, expecting hurtful words to be directed at him at any given moment. The mockery, though, never came. When he gathered the courage to look up, he didn’t find a cruel smirk, nor a pitying gaze. What he found was a look of comprehension.
With everlasting gentleness, Fudou came closer to Kazemaru and extended his hand to him:
"Care for a dance?"
Kazemaru wasn’t anticipating such a proposal, but, nevertheless, accepted the offer. He wasn’t sure why, but before being able to rationalize an answer his arms were already on Fudou’s shoulders and they were both moving to the sound of the music; slowly, lazily. The other boy’s hands were on his waist, gripping tightly. Was Fudou… nervous? He did look a bit jumpy, but his clutch didn’t loosen.
"Auch!" Kazemaru let out after Fudou had managed to step on both of his feet at the same time, somehow. "For being the one to suggest dancing, you’re not the dancer yourself."
"Shut up and relish it," he responded, a faint blush on his cheeks.
And maybe that was a mistake, because Kazemaru, with nothing to dwell on but his surroundings, noticed that they were the only ones swaying. Moreover, most people were staring. At them. Oh, people were staring, their scrupulous eyes on him and only him. Kazemaru could feel their thoughts, sharp as razors, digging into his skin.
He looks disheveled, doesn’t he?
I don’t like his bright blue hair, it’s too much.
That suit looks terribly wrinkled, it’s a sore sight!
He abruptly let go of Fudou’s shoulders and tried to get away, but his teammate didn't permit the escape. Kazemaru begged him with watery eyes, but the other didn’t flinch.
"Don’t let it get to you."
"But… they are critiquing me, I know it. They think I’m…"
"The only one that thinks badly of you is yourself, Kazemaru. It’s all in your head, and it pains me that you actually believe whatever is going on inside this mind of yours. You look alright, pretty boy."
Fudou took a lock of turquoise hair and put it behind his ear.
"You look more than alright."
Kazemaru stopped breathing for a moment, face burning so much it hurt. Fudou was…
Being kind.
He had misjudged him very badly, hadn’t he?
Kazemaru would have reflected on it more, but with Fudou’s hands now caressing his back and a smug but friendly smile on his lips, he couldn’t be bothered. All he could think about was Fudou, and neither the increasing speed of his heart nor the pressing sensation on his chest were able to overshadow it. No, not even the hungry glares of the crowd surrounding them.
The next time Fudou stepped on Kazemaru’s feet, they both giggled, finding it humorous… and sweet.
Despite Endou’s kind words, Kazemaru sighed. He didn’t feel as if they had done well. At the end of the day, they had lost against Argentina. Their chances of qualifying for the next phase were notably slimmer, which meant the Inazuma Japan couldn’t afford another defeat.
And it had been his fault, really; for once, he had been the captain. An opportunity to prove his worth had made itself clear in front of him, yet his performance had been sloppy. He had gotten hurt so early on in the match it was embarrassing, and it had been Hiroto’s understanding of the game that had managed to turn the team’s execution into something not to be ashamed of. Kazemaru hadn’t done shit. Kazemaru had made the whole team and himself look like fools.
He didn’t feel proud. He felt sheepish.
He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Endou had been there. They would have won, surely, as the goalkeeper knew how to bring the best of his teammates out. In comparison to his, Kazemaru’s leadership was awfully inferior.
Gouenji noticed his gloomy air, and was about to talk to him when Fudou approached. The forward rose an eyebrow, but ultimately let the other execute his intent first.
"Why so dim? You look as if you were about to crawl across the floor and die."
"Very funny" Kazemaru answered, unimpressed. "But right now I’m not in the mood for your shenanigans."
Fudou’s expression remained the same. The guy was smart, he had surely figured out already that something was wrong.
"Is it because you lost the match?" Kazemaru’s gulp confirmed his guess. "Well, don’t worry about it. You did alright. And, if we have to choose a culprit, then it’s our fault for running off to help the Italians."
"No; you, Sakuma, Endou and Kidou did the right thing. There was no way for you to know the match would be brought forward."
"Then why are you so upset, Kazemaru? I’ve already told you it’s not on you."
"But it kinda is," he mumbled, a hand pinching his nose. "The team is not dependent on you four, we are all talented players that can perform well on our own. The issue was me and my shabby captaincy.
Fudou frowned as he gave him a glare.
"That is bullshit."
"Is it, though? If anyone else had taken the responsibility, we could have won…"
"Yeah, but nobody else but you did. You were the one to stand up and accept the burden. You were the only one brave enough to do so." Fudou crossed his arms above his chest. "If you ask me, that speaks volumes."
Kazemaru felt the tension leave his shoulders gradually, feeling better with each word his teammate spoke, but remained silent. Seeing that a response didn’t seem to be coming, Fudou just continued.
"Plus, you played nicely. The time you spent on the field you were at the top of your game. I can tell you because I was observing you, and you performed great. I mean it."
"You were observing me?"
Fudou turned red at the sudden question.
"I mean, not you especially, but…"
Kazemaru let out a hearty laugh, interrupting Fudou’s ramble. That man, in spite of the initial impression he had had of him, knew how to cheer him up. Maybe he was right. Maybe there were reasons to be proud after all. Fudou just smiled, secretly glad to see the defender merry again.
"What else did you notice from up there? Any suggestions for improvement?"
"Well you do this thing of clenching your fists whenever you are about to tackle an opposing player. You should drop it before someone else notices," he explained, not mentioning that someone would have to be examining him very hard to actually discern it. He didn’t want to give himself away, did he?
"Thanks, I appreciate the feedback," Kazemaru beamed, quite grateful.
"Oh, and I also noticed that you make this really funny face when you are on the bench and you can’t play alongside our teammates. Like, you look frustrated and invested at the same time, your mouth crooked and your eyebrows furrowed." Fudou closed his eyes when he said it, as if picturing it. "It’s cute."
"… That is not as helpful." Kazemaru blushed the tiniest bit.
"It is for me! As much as I like you on the field, I think I prefer you on the bench."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" He huffed, kind of amused.
Fudou ignored his remark.
"Next time, you can keep me company. That way I’ll have something much nicer than the match to look at."
Kazemaru needed a moment to understand what Fudou meant. He wanted him there to… look at something nicer? What was that even about? His face turned bright red when it clicked. Oh. Oh.
"That’s not funny either!" Kazemaru jolted his friend, flushed starting from his toes to the tip of his nose. Fudou took pleasure in his reaction, liking just how easy it was to fluster the boy.
When Kazemaru turned the other way, he saw Gouenji staring directly at them, a knowing smirk on his lips. He couldn't supress a sigh; he was so going to tease him about it.
That was it. A tie. In spite of their efforts, the Inazuma Japan hadn’t been able to win the match, leaving their classification to the semifinals in the hands of fate. It depended on whether the United States selection managed to beat Argentina or not. Kazemaru felt sweat dripping from his forehead to his chin, but couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. He was demolished, as he had really done his best.
And, usually, he’d be feeling terrible with himself. They hadn’t acquired a victory. Hell, it was due to his questionable captaincy that the team needed to win the match against Italia with such urgency. All the same, he felt at peace, knowing his game had been as good as it got. As Midorikawa had told them when he left, the one who offers it all is not obligated to give more. Kazemaru wondered if that was how his friend had felt; down, but not disappointed. For a long time, he had feared what happened to Midorikawa with a fright so tangible it made him tremble, but he now realized it was all nonsense. The boy, even if for a short time, had performed to the best of his abilities and helped the team prosper as much as he could. Midorikawa had left with the dignity of someone who didn’t have a single remorse. There was no shame in his departure.
Right then, Kazemaru felt as if he had nothing to regret either.
He looked across the field to spot his teammates on the floor, exhausted and at the border of collapse. The draw was a pity, yes, but nobody looked defeated. Their expressions were of utter satisfaction, as well as frustration. They had had the entire world close enough to grab for a moment, yet they hadn’t been able to keep it on their palms. They were dispirited, but satisfied as well. They took pride in never giving up, and they hadn’t. That was enough.
At least, it was for practically everyone. There was a frown among all that stood out to Kazemaru. Fudou didn’t seem a bit content. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line, an expression so tense it could make anyone uncomfortable. Not Kazemaru, though. He knew that face all too well, as he used to make it all the time. Lately, Fudou had been able to dismantle it. Kazemaru felt the need to return the favour.
"You played well," he told Fudou as he sat down right by his side.
"I don’t want your compassion, Kazemaru. Get lost." His voice came out rough.
"I mean it, though," he insisted. "The moment you stepped on the field the tie turned. It was thanks to you that we managed to break the Catenaccio Counterattack."
"No, that was Kidou’s doing. I only enlightened him a bit."
"Exactly, you were the one to figure it out!" He tried to sound friendly, but it only enraged the other more.
Fudou turned his head to face him, fury evident on his countenance. He appeared deeply troubled.
"Look, Kazemaru, we are not fucking friends, so don’t act as if you actually cared about me or something. I don’t need you to comfort me, are we clear?
The words felt like a blow, but Kazemaru didn’t flinch. In those recent weeks, he had discovered a new side of Fudou, one that showed a caring, sensitive, soft boy. He was saying all that to scare him off, but Kazemaru wouldn’t let his edgy facade trick him. Not anymore.
"I know you don’t mean it. The Fudou I’ve got to know is nice and understanding, you see. My Fudou is good to me. And I know he’s still there, just too vexed to show himself. So insult me as much as you want, but I won’t leave until I make sure you’re fine."
Kazemaru’s genuine words seemed to affect the other boy, as his glare was less fierce and the clench of his fists not as hard.
"… It’s none of your business."
"Well, if it’s important enough to you to have you all cross," he said as he took the midfielder’s hand, "I’d like it to be."
That was the last drop needed for Fudou to let his walls down. He pressed more into the touch, his shoulder now brushing Kazemaru’s.
"I’m allowed to play so little I really want to make myself useful when I get to be out there, you know? But this time I couldn’t make the difference."
"You were the one to save us from defeat, though."
"But not the one to guarantee the win either. I wasn’t talented enough to figure it out. Why on earth was I selected, then? If I can’t demonstrate just what my worth is, then it might be none."
"Don’t say that! You know that is not true. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn't have made it against Korea." Kazemaru’s grip got a little stronger.
"Yeah, but this time I actually had something to prove to someone else but myself! This match had to be the match. And I fucking failed."
Kazemaru gulped, suddenly understanding what it was all about.
"… It’s about Kageyama, isn’t it?"
"Obviously." Fudou looked so angry it was scary. "This was my chance to show him just how mistaken he was, that he shouldn’t have forsaken me. That I am more powerful than he gave me credit for. His wrath melted with a sigh. "But I guess he was right after all."
His defeated pout was a sight so rare he gasped. He had never seen his teammate so dejected before, so unconfident. And he didn’t like it one bit.
"Fuck off, of course he wasn’t."
The fact that Kazemaru had sworn startled Fudou.
"You own nothing to that man, especially not your self esteem. He took you in and exploited your vulnerabilities in order to form a new Royal Academy. God, you’re as much of a victim as Sakuma and Genda are!" The more he talked, the more everything made sense. "He doesn’t deserve your time nor your thoughts. And if he didn’t appreciate just how great and skilled you were back then, that’s on him. You needn’t prove anything."
Kazemaru now had both his hands holding Fudou’s. His skin was surprisingly warmer than expected. Kazemaru didn’t even notice the color on his cheeks, too engrossed in his own speech to notice.
"So, are you proud of your performance?"
"… Yeah, I think I am."
The defender smiled brightly.
"Good, because we both did outstandingly."
Fudou beamed when he heard those words: Kazemaru was happy with how he had played too. A pang of gratification hit him, incredibly glad to see his friend, for once, appreciative of himself. He liked to think he had played a part in that.
"Thanks. For everything."
"Oh, it’s really noth-"
"Your Fudou is grateful."
Kazemaru stared at him for a moment, his face suddenly scarlet and his eyes wide open.
"Did you really, out of everything I said, stick with that?"
"I sure did." Fudou chuckled scornfully. "I wasn’t aware of your game, Kazemaru. It was suave."
"It was an out of the moment thing! Don’t get any ideas," he answered as he retired his hands swiftly, sweaty all of a sudden.
Fudou grabbed them before Kazemaru was able to fully let go.
"Too late," and he smiled, softly.
Kazemaru, before such words, found himself speechless. Before being able to come up with a response, a scream by Coach Kudou let them know they were leaving. Kazemaru got away as quickly as possible, his heart beating so fast it was alarming. His cheeks still burned.
What the hell was happening to him?
Kazemaru drank eagerly from his water bottle, too exhausted to care about the droplets wetting his shirt. That day’s training had been incredibly tough, more than usual; with the match against Os Reis approaching, Coach Kudou was becoming more and more demanding. It was okay, though. Endou’s cheering and encouragement was becoming louder as well.
Kazemaru closed his bottle and stared at the carefully drawn birds that surrounded the cylinder. Fuyuka had put a lot of effort in those, and Kazemaru appreciated her gesture a great deal. It was reassuring to know there was someone on the sidelines taking care of them, someone who could lead the fights they didn’t have the energy for.
Back when he played in Raimon, Haruna, Natsumi and Aki had been so very kind. They had looked after him with the tenderness of a friend when he wasn’t feeling confident and scolded him with the determination of a mother whenever he overworked. In his rights and in his wrongs, his dear managers had been there to tend to his wounds as well as to hear his cries. They might have not been actual players, but they were a virtual part of the team and their hard work didn’t go unnoticed, at least not to Kazemaru.
Once his thirst was satiated, Kazemaru returned the water bottle and found a distant spot where to stretch peacefully. He liked to take his time when that part of the training came, as it brought serenity to his mind. It was a brief moment of silence amidst a day full of screams and shouts. He cherished it greatly.
He started by bending his back in order to touch the tip of his feet with his hands. He did so without any major problem. Unlike many of his teammates, Kazemaru prided himself in being flexible; not as much as a girl, yet pretty good for a boy. He pushed just a little bit more, his hands managing to be flat against the floor. The muscles of his legs burned, but Kazemaru maintained the position for a few seconds before giving up.
He then sat down, opened his legs and tried to place his elbows against the floor. A tickling pain spread all over his body, but Kazemaru didn’t renounce just yet and took a deep breath instead, hoping to relax his body. The tension was starting to ease when an abrupt touch pressed onto his back, forcing him to stretch further.
Kazemaru hissed, feeling the soreness intensify.
"Come on, pretty boy, you can do better."
"Fudou?" For whatever reason, his heart fluttered. "What in the world are you doing?"
"Helping you out, of course."
"I was doing just fine, thank you."
"How are you going to improve with that mentality?" He responded as he pushed harder.
Kazemaru squealed once again in pain. Now, his head was close to touching the floor.
"Hm. You’re clenching your fists really tight. If you don’t loosen up, you’ll get hurt."
"You are not helping, mind you!" His words slid out with difficulty, as breathing was more difficult in that position.
"Oh, really? Is it because I make you nervous?" Fudou tittered close to his ear.
“Don’t flatter yourself”, Kazemaru was about to respond, but it was then when he realized just how close Fudou actually was. His hands were softly stroking his back, a movement so light but so deliberate it made Kazemaru squirm. His face, on the other hand, was just behind him: nose brushing locks of turquoise hair and mouth so near to his cheek he could feel his uneven breath, warm and sticky. Kazemaru felt a sudden weight on his chest, tightly squeezing his heart.
He. Was. Too. Damn. Close.
"Fudou, get off me," Kazemaru sputtered as two big rosy spots settled on his cheeks.
"Just a few seconds more, I know you can do it."
"It’s not about that, Fudou; just get off!"
Sensing the urgent pitch of his voice, Fudou did as he was asked and got away. When Kazemaru turned to the other side, still feeling sore, he was faced with the other’s worried expression.
The weight only increased.
"Sorry, was I too harsh?" He seemed genuinely apologetic, something so out of character for Fudou that Kazemaru thought he was being sarcastic for a moment. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."
"No, I…" Why was it so hard to think when he was around? Kazemaru couldn’t help but get lost in that deep blue gaze, unusually mellow. "I’m alright. I am. Could you… maybe… bring me some water?"
Fudou relaxed at his words.
"‘Course. You do look quite red." His declaration caused Kazemaru’s blush to darken even more.
"My bottle is the one with the-"
"Birds, yeah. I know. I’ll be back in a minute."
Fudou got away, and Kazemaru kept his eyes glued to his figure as he did. He couldn’t stop looking, not when he appeared so charming, so caring, so sweet. Lately, Fudou had been everything he could think about. God, he was consuming his life, but how not to ponder on his pretty eyes, how not to ruminate about his handsome smile, how not to dwell on his kind soul? Kazemaru had never felt such a thing for anyone, much less for someone like Fudou. Out of all people, why him?
He was reckless. He was mean. He was conceited. And he knew what his water bottle was, just as he knew his favourite soft drink, was aware of what triggered his insecurities and carried some spare hair ties in case his broke.
That’s why. Because he cared about him, and Kazemaru was frightened to realize he cared just as much about him. He had managed to steal a piece of his heart scarily fast. Yet it didn’t race when he was with Endou, about whom he cared just as much if not more, nor his face was set on fire. Whatever Fudou set off in him, it was different from friendship.
He watched as the former exchanged some words with Fuyuka and turned around, his water bottle on one hand and a towel on the other. When their eyes met, he smirked, fondness evident in his expression.
That was it. A gentle smile was what Kazemaru needed to finally understand. He liked Fudou. He liked him as in wanted to hug him, to kiss his lips, to cuddle in bed with him. What Kazemaru felt whenever the boy approached was love.
Oh, he was smitten, wasn’t he?
Kazemaru had approximately ten seconds to get a grip and relax because ohmygodhelikedFudou before the latter arrived where he was laying. He breathed as deeply as he could, patted his burning cheeks to see if that way the color would dwindle and tried to make less noticeable the tremble of his limps. When Fudou appeared next to him and handed him the water as well as the towel, Kazemaru managed to thank him without fumbling too much.
If he didn’t pull himself together soon, those would be some potentially embarrassing days.
Orpheus losing in such a disadvantage was the biggest surprise. After all, Inazuma Japan had given blood and tears to merely tie the score. Little Giants, on the other hand, had won the match struggling very little, not even looking tired after it. What could they expect, if not outright defeat? That motivated Kazemaru to train even harder than before.
Despite the tension that his muscles were amassing, he kept sprinting as he kicked the ball. He had to be faster. He had to be stronger. He had to improve his techniques. Now that they were so close to fulfilling their dreams, he wasn’t going to loosen up. No; Kazemaru would give his all and more to win the finals. He didn’t care what it took as long as victory was what awaited at the end of the road. After everything he had undergone, after sleepless nights feeling worthless and unending tears running down his cheeks, winning was what he owed to his younger, more insecure self. He’d claim the trophy not only for his country, but also for himself; to prove that even people like him could dream about something bigger, that even people like him were deserving of greatness.
He was so focused on the ball, determined to achieve his goal, that he didn’t notice when someone appeared in the distance. Fudou decided against disturbing Kazemaru while he was doing drills, looking too concentrated to bother. He just stared, as he usually did. Since joining the Inazuma Japan, he had gained that habit of observing the boy. He possessed something that fascinated Fudou in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Was it his remarkable beauty? His impressive will? His fine skills?
Kazemaru spotted him across the field, and his lips curled into a smile. He redirected his path towards Fudou and waved as he got closer, not absorbed anymore and rather glad. His honest grin was enough to make Fudou’s insides tingle.
That was it, he thought. He liked Kazemaru’s genuineness. He liked how real he felt. Unlike the others, he didn’t pretend to be something he was not, he didn’t try to come across as superhuman nor tried to act nicer than he really was. Their teammates had a fake feeling to them, as if they were too collected and accomplished to be lifelike, but the defender exuded the fragility of an actual human being, who blundered, made mistakes and felt bad. He allowed himself to feel both dejected and elated, proud and disappointed. Kazemaru struggled and, although weary of external help, accepted the fact that he had issues to deal with. Fudou admired that of him, as he wasn’t that authentic himself.
The latter was brave enough to be exactly as he was, faults and everything, which made getting to know him very rewarding. With time, Fudou had learned to cherish every aspect of his, even the parts the other boy disliked. And seeing the honesty Kazemaru had shown him from the start, a peek of his naked soul, Fudou couldn’t help but return the act. For once, he had allowed himself to be vulnerable, to be real; not the jerk he had convinced everybody else he was, but the little kid who still ached for love and care. And it had been worth it, because, somehow, he had never felt so at peace with himself before. That stupid facade he put on was to protect himself, but tearing it down had him feeling more sheltered than ever. Maybe it was Kazemaru’s soft hands. Maybe his tired but loving eyes. It didn’t matter, at least not when the defender was about to arrive where he stood.
Loving Kazemaru had helped him love everything else too, including his true persona. That was the most precious gift Fudou had ever received.
"I see you are still training."
"Yeah, the confrontation against Little Giants has me in a chokehold, you know?"
"I get it, I’m preoccupied as well." Fudou had been reviewing the recordings of the matches they had performed during the Football Frontier International, and their incredible game had him meditating whether they actually had a chance of winning or not. "I’ve been trying to come up with some strategy, but nothing seems to be good enough."
"Well, why don’t you join me? Maybe we can figure it out together."
Fudou chuckled as he patted Kazemaru’s shoulder.
"I think I should discuss such a thing with Kidou or something, not with an airhead like yourself."
"Hey!" The defender faked irritation. "That was rude."
"Rude but true. That’s what you get for hanging out so much with the captain."
"Okay, I won’t let you slander Endou like that."
"I’m not wrong, though! He’s a football freak who hasn’t thought about something else but a ball in his whole damn life. If I asked him to help me create a tactic, he would tell me to ‘give my best’ and that ‘the power of friendship should be enough.’"
"Well, if that football freak, as you called him, was here," Kazemaru objected, "he’d tell you to stop whining and train with me!"
"He’d not-"
Fudou wasn’t even permitted to end the sentence, as Kazemaru started sprinting in the opposite direction without warning.
"Oh, come on!" Fudou complained. "We are not racing, it’s not fair to me!"
"Just try to not get left behind, pretty boy!"
A blush appeared on his cheeks, slowly creeping up.
"You are a menace, Kazemaru Ichirouta!" Fudou shouted back, attempting to keep up.
The other laughed loud and clear, his face just as rosy.
"I’m your menace now!"
They both laughed it off, continuing to run as if their lives depended on it, but Fudou relished those words immensely. He was used to being the one to tease, but Kazemaru taking the initiative had him hoping just a little bit too much, just a little bit more than usual. He was so flushed his skin felt on fire, his heartbeat so loud it rumbled in his ears like a blaring drum.
He was down bad, he realized. So much it was ridiculous. So much he couldn’t stop himself from increasing the speed of his legs and grabbing Kazemaru’s hand before he could get away again. It was as cold and smooth as he remembered. Fudou wanted to never let go.
"Wasn’t expecting you to actually catch up!"
"You were going easy on me, though."
"Yes, I was," he smiled, "but I’m still impressed."
"Whatever, but give a minute, won’t you?"
And that was a genuine request, as Fudou’s lungs burned from the effort and were grasping for air gravely. Kazemaru felt guilty for a second, and gifted the other an apologetic smile. A couple of minutes later, Fudou was as good as new.
"Can’t believe you maintain this pace during the entirety of a match."
"It’s tough, trust me."
"I figured so, yeah," he huffed, still feeling sore from the run.
"A lot of times I end up so exhausted I can’t get up!"
"Well, I’ll be there whenever you need me to pick you up, so it's alright." He whispered it as if he were making a promise.
Scarlet appeared on Kazemaru’s face, but he didn’t try to cover it.
"That’s reassuring," he mumbled coyly.
"Well, look at you." Fudou cupped his cheeks. "Running at top velocity didn’t color you in the slightest, but now, all of a sudden, you’re as red as a pepper. Is it my doing?"
"Don’t be stupid, Fudou." Kazemaru turned his head slightly to kiss the palm that caressed him. "You know it always is."
Fudou's eyes gaped at the statement. It was bold. It seemed earnest. His hopes skyrocketed at the same time his fingers started quivering and his breath became off– again. He tried to find the perfect words, but they got stuck in his throat; the only thing he managed to mutter, was the unfiltered, sincere truth.
"Kazemaru."
"Hm?"
"I like you." They were spoken so quietly the wind could have taken them unheard.
It didn’t, though. Kazemaru was able to hear it.
And, for a brief moment, he looked aghast, a certain perplexity in his expression. He wasn’t expecting such a confession, but, in Fudou’s defense, he hadn’t either. It had just slipped; his true feelings had unravelled just as they tended to do around the boy. His astonishment, however, didn’t last long. A spark lightened up his brown gaze and a shy smile curved the tips of his lips.
Fudou stopped breathing altogether.
"I like you too. So much." He looked away, getting progressively more nervous. "I… I realized it a bit ago and… you are all that has been in my mind since. Everything I once knew is dismantled and the only thing that remains clear are my feelings for you. I like you. I love you." He then started rambling out of restlessness. "And, god, I am being so mushy right now; I’m sorry, I…"
"Shut up, pretty boy."
Fudou silenced Kazemaru with a kiss, sudden and clashing. Despite the harsh meet of their lips, it was the sweetest experience either of the boys had ever had the pleasure to live. The touch was so light yet so intimate; it felt as if everything they wanted to say was settled in the kiss. They closed their eyes as they relished the moment, dragging the contact as long as they were able to.
When they separated, both looked embarrassed, but definitely not regretful. It had been… perfect.
"We should get going," Fudou said out of the blue, a little bit awkward because of the situation. "Dinner’s about to be served."
"Yeah, you are probably right." Kazemaru gulped before continuing to speak. "Fudou, are we…?"
"It’s not like I do this with everyone," he interrupted. "We better be."
Kazemaru giggled, still remarkably red.
"Okay, good to know."
"So?"
Fudou offered his hand. Kazemaru took it without hesitation.
"Let’s go. I’m starving!"
The boys made their way to the hostel, fingers intertwined no matter how sweaty they got. When they arrived, everyone stared quite astounded, but neither Kazemaru nor Fudou cared. They were elated, satisfied and giddy, but, most importantly, terribly in love. And nothing, not even the burning gazes that before would have frightened Kazemaru, could change that