Chapter Text
"Don't get all pissy, man." Aiku tried to mediate the situation. He already knew about the older Itoshi's behavior, but nothing had warned him about the younger one's ticking time bomb. "Everyone here is just curious, as lost as you are."
No matter how much he looks at the screen, the child gives him absolutely no reason for such a commotion, but he fears saying that in front of this bunch of psychotic lunatics.
The perspective now shifts to a glass window, open, with the wind making the thick blue curtains sway gently. Inside the room is a cozy children's bedroom, with soccer posters and a few books on a large shelf. Sitting on a neatly made bed is a small child, putting on his black shoes. A dark blue bracelet is on his right wrist, and he is wearing a white shirt, dark blue shorts, and knee-high socks.
"Are we going to see the boy now? Honestly, this change in narrative perspective is starting to confuse me." Anri asked, with a few murmurs of agreement around her.
"Looks like Yoichi is the one we're going to be watching." Agi explains.
"It's 'Isagi.' Calling someone by their first name is offensive to us Japanese people." Beside him, Nanase tries to explain the tradition to the Englishman, who seems confused at first, but simply accepts it without question.
"Then why were they calling him that?" Charles frowns, pointing at Rin, Sae, Kira, and Bachira.
"We're childhood friends."
"We're classmates."
"I've known him for a long time. He gave me permission."
"He's my best friend!"
Isagi disagrees with some of the explanations, but huffs instead of arguing.
"Should we assume that one of the two Japanese players who have already appeared on screen is Japan's future?" Loki asked, promptly noticing how the younger Itoshi freezes in his chair for a second before returning to normal.
The redhead beside him doesn't pay much attention. Logically speaking, Sae's younger brother would follow his brother's path and become a weapon like him. Bloodline really was something impressive.
"So, Rin Itoshi?" Pablo blatantly points at the green-haired boy in front of him.
"As if one brat wasn't enough, now there'll be two." Seeing that, between the two brothers, the older one seems easier to deal with, Chris fears what the second one will be like on the field.
Rin ignores every other voice in the large room, his mind focused on his own thoughts. The unspoken question everyone keeps bringing up leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Did he manage to surpass Sae? It doesn't give him the feeling he expected, especially when he turns to the redhead and sees that he couldn't care less, his eyes focused on the screen.
What was the point of it all if it seems like nothing changed?
Isagi had always imagined that Rin would follow Sae's path, becoming a striker like him. He heard through other people that Sae had been recruited by a club in Spain. Maybe Rin had gone along as well?
'What an awful feeling in my throat.' he thinks, swallowing hard in an attempt to distract himself from the sudden burning sensation. As if it were closing up.
"Why do you all keep coming back to the same topic? Always 'one or the other?' What a bunch of idiots." Shito cuts into the conversation. It's obvious that he knows who the future is, and so do the readers, but seeing them return to the subject over and over again and doubt his poor boy pisses him off.
"Dude, do you have Popularity?" Zantetsu asks, confused.
"Popularity?"
"Yeah, you change your opinion way too fast. Of course we're going to try and figure out who the striker is ourselves. You haven't said anything, so how are we supposed to know?" he explains confidently.
"My God, you mean 'Bipolarity' you beast of burden!" Barou corrected him with obvious disbelief on his face.
"It's incredible how you can say something stupid and smart in the same sentence." Reo laughs at his teammate's situation.
Beside him, Nagi sighs. "But he's right. If you don't want us discussing it, why not just tell us who the boy is and why we're watching this?"
It was difficult for Shito to intimidate Seishiro with a glare. That guy was a wall of neutral emotions. Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't succeed, he simply sighs.
"Isagi Yoichi." He makes sure to say it loud and clear. "He's the reason you're all here. There isn't any other." The suspense he wanted to build immediately went down the drain.
Isagi freezes, his eyes trembling slightly. Him? Why him?
"Wow! That's incredible, Isagi!" Bachira beside him seems a thousand times more excited than Isagi himself, who is sweating even though it isn't hot in the room.
"But I—" I don't play soccer anymore.
The words wouldn't come out of his throat. At least nobody was looking at him, or he was sure he would have a breakdown.
Kira gives a fake smile. "What? Yoichi?" His voice doing nothing to hide the skepticism.
"Ah, the cute little boy." Pablo replies, not really caring much about the matter.
"From Itoshi Sae to this little boy. Japan really has no luck." The condescension dripping from those venomous words makes Isagi lower his head into his lap.
"I find it hard to believe such a small kid could become a great player."
Bachira doesn't hold back. "Shut up, you're only saying that because you know you can never become greater than Noel Noa!" he shouts at the blond Englishman who had insulted his star.
Chris immediately turns his head upon hearing that, his eyes focusing incredulously on the two-toned boy. "What did you say, kid?"
"Did he stutter, Prince?" Lavinho mocked, enjoying the boy's courage and taking his side.
"Mind your own business, idiot."
Isagi doesn't even know why, but hearing so much doubt, criticism, and condescension directed at him makes his stomach churn with anger. The obvious skepticism people have toward him makes him burn with disbelief, smothering the panic attack that had threatened him moments ago.
He lifts his eyes from his lap and sees the rabbit staring at him fiercely. Instead of looking away, he stares right back. Which earns a scandalously loud laugh from the animal.
"Son of a bitch." He curses. Isagi wouldn't have to go through this entire ordeal if it weren't for him.
The clapping echoes through the room, the rabbit's paws producing an amplified sound. "Okay, okay, that's enough. Get back to watching. This time, knowing who to focus on."
"Yoochan, are you done getting dressed yet?" A soft female voice calls from somewhere in the distance.
"I thought his name was Yoichi." Leonardo teases.
"Yoochan is a nickname." Kira shrugs.
"How did you figure that out?" Isagi rolls his eyes at Kira, noticing that even though he spoke loudly, the other boy didn't even turn around to answer.
Great, now they're ignoring him. It's not his fault that Kira's playstyle is, at best, mediocre. If he spent less time being a poster boy and played more for himself, maybe his performance wouldn't be so bad. He huffs and shifts slightly in his seat.
"A cute nickname. Cute." The red-haired boy with the cute side braid, Kurona, from what Isagi overheard, says quietly, with the verbal tic Isagi was beginning to get used to.
He actually agrees, to an extent, since being called by such a childish nickname by someone other than his parents is a little embarrassing. Though he thinks he wouldn't mind if Meguru called him that.
The child murmurs an affirmation and then walks out of the bedroom. The house is average, tidy, and very cozy. As he walks down the second-floor hallway, there are family pictures hanging on the walls, not many, but carefully cleaned and placed. He goes down the stairs unhurriedly and even carefully, however, on the last step, his poorly tied shoelaces get tangled together. He stumbles without ceremony, and his face hits the floor with a dull thud.
Michael interprets more than what is simply happening in the scene. His eyes wander through the house, the family photographs, the clean and cozy atmosphere. Instead of feeling envy, he feels nothing. Emptiness, perhaps. His house in Berlin is larger, more luxurious, but there is nothing in the atmosphere of that place. Barely any furniture, pictures, or comforting aura.
He scoffs. He's seen enough already. When is the part they promised him, the soccer, finally going to start?
Hiori stares at the screen with a fake smile that never reaches his eyes. His mind betrays him and drags him back to his own childhood. How stupid, bringing back such unhappy memories from such a simple and ordinary scene. Yet all he can think about are taller, wider-spaced stairs, when a light-blue-haired boy with eyes widened in shock makes a misstep and feels a miserable pain in his ankle, enough to make him scream.
He believes he stopped breathing for a few seconds. Even though outwardly nothing seems to change, nobody even notices the slight twitch in his eye.
But before he can cry, even though tears are already gathering on his eyelashes, warm arms catch him. He is lifted from the floor within seconds and placed in familiar arms.
"Yoichi, did you fall again?" There is no reprimand in her voice. His mother brushes away the strands of hair stuck to his forehead and rubs small circles on his back.
Kaiser, contrary to what he thinks of himself, doesn't change his expression. But his mouth goes dry, which is intriguing considering everyone says there's never a shortage of venom on his tongue.
The blond suddenly feels a slight discomfort, almost like a sense of unfairness. The scene gives him nothing, nothing except feelings he refuses to name. Michael doesn't know who this boy is, yet he already feels an antipathy growing toward him.
His hand unconsciously moves to his jugular, almost like scratching an invisible itch.
Hiori clenches his jaw. The screen has never seemed so far away. He lightly bites the inside of his cheek, so lightly that he tastes a trace of iron on his tongue.
"How lucky. Comforting arms." He whispers the words to the wind, hoping nobody hears them, not even Karasu, who is sitting a few seats away from him.
When it was him, arms came to his aid too, but instead of looking directly at the injured child, they looked at what the fall could represent. Instead of comforting arms, he was met with a harsh dose of reality that made him who he is today. He feels a dull envy toward the boy in front of him, apathy running through him.
Suddenly, he doesn't want to be in that room anymore. It seems better to run around a damn field chasing a ball. The chair feels as though it's glued him in place.
"Is that your mother, Isagi?" Meguru asks excitedly.
"Mhm, it is." He can't help smiling whenever he talks about his parents, the people he values and respects most.
"Your mom is really beautiful. My mom is a painter, I think they'd get along well." Bachira can't help getting excited either when talking about the only parental figure in his life. His mother is also his father, playing both roles without ever letting him lack anything.
Isagi laughs. "I think so too. My mom is a natural cook, she's an amazing homemaker." Of course, she's much more than that, but Iyo takes so much pride in her cooking skills that he can't help mentioning them.
"They're like two extremes. How funny." The rabbit's voice comes out as if it weren't intentional, a thought spoken aloud.
"Extremes of what?" Snuffy asks, one eyebrow raised.
The rabbit puts on a look of feigned surprise. "Oh, did I say that out loud?"
"Fucking weirdo." Raichi mutters quietly, even knowing the rabbit would hear him anyway.
"Was it the shoelaces?" A different voice enters the scene. Issei approaches Iyo and comforts his son as well. "I'd suggest we buy Velcro shoes, but you seemed confident in choosing shoes with laces."
Isagi sniffles. He had put his hands in front of his face before falling, so he didn't really suffer anything too painful, but his hands are now tinged red.
There is always an air of curiosity and surprise whenever the boy on the screen proves to be smarter than his age or displays remarkable abilities.
"His reflexes are admirable." Chigiri admits.
Kunigami nods. "They seem innate." A skill anyone would wish to have, especially in soccer, where one extra second can mean conceding a goal and losing the match.
"Maybe there really is a reason we're watching him after all." Hiori forces his voice to come out normally, slipping back into the routine of not showing what he truly thinks.
Karasu simply lets out a dry laugh. "You're giving him too much credit. We haven't even seen him on the field."
Lorenzo laughed when the little boy fell. "The best way to soften a fall is by cushioning it with your own body, don't you think?"
Barou looks at him as though he were mentally unstable. "That's the worst possible way to soften a fall, idiot."
"Of course he'd say that. Your body's nothing but bones. What is there to break, Lorenzo?" A voice nobody had memorized yet speaks loudly enough for everyone to hear.
But Sae could never forget that voice unless he tried very hard, and he already has. His usually expressionless face twists with anger, his brow furrowing in disgust. He turns toward where the voice came from and immediately recognizes that nearly white-purple hair he hated so much, and those red eyes carrying such a fake gleam.
His jaw tightens, his eyes almost seeming capable of boring holes through the rabbit in front of him. He hisses through clenched teeth, demanding an explanation. "What the fuck is he doing here?"
"For the rabbit, it was almost a sense of déjà vu, but with far more resentment in those pearl-green eyes. Shito could finally say he was loving the direction this place was taking.
Lorenzo, oblivious to the demons of Japan's New Generation, continued the conversation. "Bunny, my friend! I almost didn't see you there. Still hiding like a shadow?" he mocked playfully, receiving a smile that didn't reach the rabbit's eyes.
"I'll leave the answer for you to figure out on your own." Perhaps it was Iglesias's special skill to always have a comeback and never be left speechless.
"Did you hurt them?" His father takes his hands while Isagi nods, shaking his head, still sitting in his mother's lap.
His mother laughs softly, making the chest supporting Isagi tremble slightly, and then says, "What are we going to do with you, my little crybaby?" She notices that the tears have already dried, leaving only slightly damp eyes.
Isagi blushes like a ripe tomato. He had always been aware of what was happening around him and had a strong memory, even as a child. That scene still remained vivid in his old memories, but seeing it personally on a giant screen, with so many people watching on top of that, was far too embarrassing for a shy child like him.
"So you're a crybaby?" Meguru can't miss the opportunity to tease his best friend, who lightly smacks him on the shoulder.
"Shut up!" He laughs. "I was, okay? But I don't cry over everything anymore." And that fall had genuinely hurt quite a lot. It wasn't his fault that he had weak tear glands.
Bachira laughs so hard he throws his head back, clutching his stomach. What, to him, was a simple and fun conversation caused some of the people around him to look confused and even alarmed.
"Why is that kid laughing by himself?" Onazi whispers to Kuro beside him, careful not to say too much. He was genuinely intrigued.
"I have absolutely no idea." The boy with glasses whispers back, just as confused as his best friend.
In the back, Ego observed cautiously. He was certain of the situation, or rather, almost certain. And not having that certainty completely was irritating him. He looked again at the rabbit, who seemed far too distracted staring directly at Meguru, or rather, beside Meguru.
Yoichi is placed back on the floor, and his father's large hand lightly ruffles his hair. "Can I still go play outside?" The sound of his voice is almost inaudible, but in the comfortable silence it is easily heard.
Iyo smiles. "Do you really want to go buy the ingredients for tonight's dinner?" Her baby had asked her to trust him with a small list of ingredients for one of his favorite desserts, kintsuba and milk.
Kaiser makes a disgusted face, clicking his tongue. "Milk? Gross. What's with Asians and their obsession with milk?"
Aryu twirls a strand of hair around his finger. "Lactose is good for your skin. And your hair too."
"It's Europeans who consume the most milk. What exactly are you trying to say?" Karasu cuts in with a sarcastic tone. "You people drink milk with everything."
"Your breakfast is cereal with milk." Nagi murmurs.
"But Japan has lots of milk flavors. Like banana milk or strawberry milk." Nanase receives confused looks from his teammates.
"Are you on our side or not?" Niko asks quietly beside him. The boy with the headband simply laughs awkwardly and searches for arguments to support his side.
"I like a different kind of milk." Ryuusei jokes with a mischievous grin.
"Nobody asked you, pervert!" Karasu shouts.
Not only does the insult have absolutely no effect, it earns a loud laugh from the brunet.
Ness raises an eyebrow and joins the discussion. "Why are all of you arguing against Kaiser?" he hisses somewhat passive-aggressively.
"Because chemical-cut over there started it." Otoya defends.
And another argument begins, with Ness and Erik defending Kaiser's hair and insulting the Japanese players three times harder, while everyone else occasionally throws in comments to fuel the fight.
The adults, or at least those staying out of the idiotic argument, simply watch. Some even seem entertained.
"What kind of debate even is this?" Snuffy asks, almost finding it funny. Almost.
Unlike him, Lavinho doesn't bother hiding how amusing he finds the whole thing. He nudges his pupil with an elbow and whispers, "Pay attention, Bunny. Who do you think wins this argument?"
The Spaniard shrugs. "Who knows?" His gaze lingers on the back of someone else's head, but quickly shifts back to the pointless debate.
"Kintsuba? That's your favorite food?"
Yoichi smiles just thinking about the soft sweet red bean paste. "Definitely. I'd eat it even if it were my last day on Earth." Maybe with a little tea to go with it.
"I like canned pineapple. It's sweet and really tasty."
Isagi smiles, intrigued. "How interesting. I didn't think anyone would actually like canned fruit. You're really unique." He ate pretty much everything, and on extremely hot afternoons, canned pineapple was refreshing enough, so he couldn't judge. His mother had always said his introduction to solid foods had been incredibly easy and fun.
Bachira can't help feeling like he's floating on clouds again. Normally, having a food like that as his favorite would make people think he was weird, which he personally liked. Being the odd one out had always been normal for him. But the warmth in his chest was new. He could practically hear his heartbeat with how fast it was racing. Unique? He thinks this is the first time anyone has ever called him that, especially with a smile on their face.
"You're really intriguing, Isagi." He forces himself to turn his attention back to the screen, worried that his face might become as red as the heart beating in his chest.
Yoichi doesn't quite understand, but he smiles anyway. Understanding Bachira was like putting together a puzzle, and that was fun.
"Kintsuba? What kind of food is that? Is it like onigiri?" the English player, Agi, asks.
"It makes sense that you wouldn't know. It's mostly famous in Japan. It's not like onigiri, they are completely different, actually." Reo answers.
Isagi perks up the moment his favorite food becomes the topic. Excitedly, he says, "It's made with azuki bean paste. It's delicious."
He explains it to the dark-haired Englishman, who doesn't even turn around to look at him, as if he weren't there.
Reo responds, "I don't really like it, but it's made from sweet bean paste and wrapped in a thin layer of wheat flour."
"Oh, bean paste? That's different." Onazi, who overhears the conversation, speaks to Reo.
The conversation continues, without any openings or moments where Isagi's words are taken seriously.
Isagi watches in confusion. Were they so angry that he was the main striker that they were ignoring him? Did they not even consider him worthy of participating in the conversation?
"How rude. I'll do something about them." Bachira, ever accommodating, feels offended by the way they're treating Yoichi.
A warm hand lands on his shoulder. "Let it go. That's my problem." He tries not to sound rude, but the patience he had always been proud of was slowly running out.
"But they—"
"Meguru." He calls out loudly. Bachira watches his blue eyes darken until they are nearly black with an emotion he can't identify. He should probably feel intimidated, but being called by his first name with so much intensity only excites him. "This concerns me. Stay out of it."
"...Okay."
Isagi turns his attention back to the screen, still somewhat pissed off about the situation. His stare becomes almost murderous toward the rabbit, the main catalyst behind all of this. Being ignored was a terrible feeling. Pretending you didn't even exist was even worse.
With a deep sigh, he gradually calms down.
"Please." He gently holds onto the hem of his mother's dress. Iyo had become a mother relatively young. Planned, of course, but still young. Her years of motherhood had never truly been exhausting. Isagi had been a crybaby, but he was calm and well-behaved.
"I saw there was supposed to be a small snowstorm today. Are you sure you want to go?" His father speaks loudly from the kitchen, where he was taking care of some household chores.
Anri hopes that if she ever becomes a mother one day, her experience will be as peaceful as the mother of that adorable child. Although her one and only focus at the moment is the World Cup, bringing the trophy home to her country, with or without the psychotic Ego, would fulfill her childhood dream.
Jinpachi, sitting beside her, raises an eyebrow when he notices the hopeful look on the woman's face as she watches the screen, mentally deducing what she is thinking.
"Household chores? Usually that's the woman's job." Aiku laughs, his tone clearly playful.
Barou fixes him with a hard stare. "Household chores are for any functional adult, old man." He crosses his arms. He had always kept his house spotless despite being a man, and jokes like that infuriated him.
Anyone who couldn't take care of their own mess shouldn't even be considered functional.
The two-toned-haired man looks offended, pointing at himself with visible indignation. "Old man? I'm nineteen."
"Beside him, a pink-haired teammate laughed. "Hahahaha, old man, that was a good one. Maybe if you got those scraggly hairs out of your face, you'd look your actual age."
"Shut up, Sendou." He reprimanded him. He wasn't getting rid of the source of his masculinity. Girls loved his beard.
Isagi didn't like snowstorms very much, even the brief ones. His head would throb and his teeth would chatter from the cold, even beneath a thin winter fog.
He looked outside through the closed window. The weather was milder compared to the cold, but it was still winter. Feeling and trusting his innate instinct, he felt confident.
Trusting one's instincts was something many players did. Even those who based themselves on a rational style of play, since each person's instincts were like their ego, shaped individually through experience and adaptation.
Noa could swear he heard a murmur of interest coming from Dark Ray behind him, but he chose to ignore it. You couldn't make hasty decisions based solely on scattered information, although the idea of a talent like that child pleased him. He could use him as a stepping stone to push Kaiser further. A player in his comfort zone was a dead player on the field.
He turned his gaze back to Itoshi Rin. Seeing his personality, he would be the one most compatible with Kaiser. Someone with such an explosive personality would drag him out of his comfort zone quickly.
Considering how calm that boy seemed, it was possible he would simply submit to Kaiser the way everyone else did. But that Itoshi...
"It's a shame that kid doesn't appreciate football. He seems quite promising." Loki admitted.
The skepticism was still far too obvious, especially from those who thought too highly of themselves, and the target of all those conversations was hanging by a thread.
The hare dressed as a clown observed the entire situation with great care, even more so when he saw that conflicting side of Isagi's personality manifesting under so much stress and pressure.
"He's still unpolished. A rough gem."
Isagi couldn't decide whether that was praise or criticism, but he was irritated either way.
Human beings are immensely complex in every aspect. When one is subjected to a humiliating situation or overwhelming stress, what emerges can be either a fragile and insecure person or someone hardened and consumed by fury because of those memories.
Shito wondered which of the two would come out.
"It's not going to snow today, Dad." His voice was sweet when speaking to his father, and the man nodded, confident in his son's words.
Yoichi headed toward the genkan, but was soon stopped by a question from his mother.
"Wouldn't it be better to take a coat? Where's that favorite scarf of yours? I'll get it from the closet for you."
"No need. I lent it to a friend."
He didn't know if he could call that cute boy a friend yet. They hadn't met again, and it had already been three weeks. He would probably never see that scarf again. Well, at least he hoped it was being taken care of and put to good use.
Rin chose to ignore the part where Isagi called him a friend, and the part where he called him a cute kid too, instead thinking about the scarf he so often pretended didn't exist. Contrary to what child Isagi thought, the piece of fabric was crumpled at the bottom of a drawer Rin never opened. Neither cared for nor used, Rin had repeated his brother's behavior and disappointed a child just like himself.
Sae didn't look at his brother. He searched his memories of the last time he had been home. He had never seen the scarf, although he knew Rin hadn't returned it. He wondered where it was.
"Who would've thought someone would call one of the Itoshis a friend?" Lorenzo mocked, laughing at someone else's expense.
Isagi said goodbye to his mother with a kiss on the forehead, walking through the quiet Tokyo neighborhood. He had only moved there a few months ago because of his father's new job. It was busier than Saitama Prefecture, even in a neighborhood somewhat removed from the main crowds, but Isagi could handle it.
Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted back to the green-eyed boy he had met weeks ago.
The boy himself clenched his jaw. 'Can he just stop thinking about me?' Though what he thought wasn't what he wanted.
Maybe he already had. After all, it had been years since they had seen each other.
"Tokyo is stressful for a child. Especially alone." Chigiri had a sister who lived in the giant metropolis, and even he couldn't handle the busiest days in Shibuya.
"That's why I like the mountains. I can't stand the city." Gagamaru knew how big it was from stories his grandmother told him, but he had never really been interested in going there.
"I hate the mountains. I want to live in Tokyo. Temples make me anxious." It was ironic hearing that from Igaguri, a monk in training.
Nanase listened to everything. He had experience with both worlds, since his family owned several Buddhist temples but lived in Ibaraki Prefecture.
"I like both." He lightly tapped his feet against the floor in delight.
Isagi's memory was clear and vivid. He had gone out to play that cold afternoon. Everything in his mind had been a mess, and silence sometimes made him feel better. After wandering aimlessly, he came across shouting and running coming from a large, well-maintained field.
"What's so interesting about that?" It was a genuine question he asked himself, not understanding the appeal of the sport, even feeling somewhat condescending toward the naïve people who liked it.
"Whoa, that's a strong opinion." Snuffy stammered, clearly not expecting that.
"Pretty funny, I'd say." Ryuusei wasn't offended. Instead, he quite enjoyed the offended and affected expressions on the other players' faces.
Indirectly, or perhaps directly, the child on the screen had insulted almost everyone there. Everyone who harbored a passion for the sport and had made it their life's goal. For some, the sport was their life.
"He's just a kid." Ego shrugged, far calmer than the others.
Isagi should have felt embarrassed, but instead he felt vindicated by the discomfort he had caused them. It was fair payback.
"My God." Was he openly mocking everyone else? This environment definitely wasn't doing him any good.
"You didn't like football?" The idea of not running across a field with a ball under his control left Bachira stunned. The greatest feeling of freedom he had ever experienced was running and dribbling.
Afraid of offending his friend, Isagi searched for the right words. "I was a difficult child. But I recognize football's value now."
The ambiguity in his words was explicit to Isagi and implicit to Meguru, who merely nodded and accepted his friend's explanation.
For some of the people there, the child had already earned their dislike. Many lived for the sport, not as a hobby, but as a chance at life.
Rational and methodical, Noa simply let out a deep sigh. A comment like that wouldn't affect him. He was a child who had always had everything. He knew no reality other than his own.
"On the other hand, Michael couldn't help but feel even angrier. Having his escape called worthless left a sick feeling in his stomach, worse than any he'd felt sitting in that damned room.
"Yoichi, huh?" He would wait for that child to become a player, then show him how the despair of pressure on the field could leave someone completely broken.
Not even the exceptional movements of a red-haired, green-eyed boy caught his attention. He walked right past, heading toward the small park beside the field.
Sae raised an eyebrow. Was Isagi's perspective before meeting them really that shallow? He could now deduce more about the blue-haired boy he knew.
"I guess that for someone who doesn't like football, not even a genius could impress him." Kunigami pointed out.
"I should've asked his name."
He was pulled from his thoughts when he arrived in Shibuya.
It was like stepping into a room packed with blaring microphones and speakers. Isagi immediately began regretting his decision to come alone to a place where the sheer volume of noise was already starting to make him feel unwell.
He forced himself to walk toward a quieter area, if such a thing even existed in that sprawling metropolis. Looking down and covering both ears with his hands, he wasn't paying enough attention and ended up bumping into someone, immediately falling to the ground.
"I don't know whether I should be annoyed at him or feel sorry for him." Niko exclaimed, confused. He had been just as offended as everyone else by the boy's indirect comment, but he still felt bad seeing how uncomfortable he looked.
"I don't need your pity." Isagi blurted out unintentionally, though he didn't even care about what he'd said. The only one who seemed to genuinely listen to him was Meguru anyway.
He rested his chin on his palm and leaned against the armrest of his chair. He knew exactly what scene was coming next, and he wasn't looking forward to it at all.
Just as Isagi knew, Rin also knew very well which memory was about to be dragged out by the scene. The discomfort wasn't obvious on his face, but it was still there.
Isagi lifted his head to apologize for being distracted, and his eyes met the boy he'd been thinking about.
"You!" He pointed at him with one hand. The other boy had fallen to the ground from the impact as well.
"Oh, and it's not even the end of winter yet." He said it, sounding somewhat amused.
"Wow, Rin has a sense of humor. Who would've thought?" Shidou laughed, along with several others.
Isagi didn't really understand the joke. Rin had always been a playful and fun child, albeit a little naïve.
"Then again..." Looking at the tall boy with the cold gaze seated several rows ahead of him, he didn't even seem like the same person.
The boy stood up, but quickly noticed how Isagi still looked dazed, and much paler than he remembered.
"Are you okay?" Rin didn't wait for an answer before offering his hand to help the boy up.
His head still spinning, Isagi took the offered hand and got to his feet.
"More or less."
The noise inside Isagi's mind caused by the environment faded rapidly when Rin took his hand, though he didn't notice it immediately.
Isagi tilted his head to the side, somewhat confused. He hadn't realized it before, but now that he saw it, back then whenever he was around Rin or Sae, his headaches would disappear quickly.
He sighed in relief that he no longer needed that. Back then, not even medicine made him feel better. He felt sorry for his younger self.
Rin simply bit the inside of his cheek.
"I didn't expect to find you here. Why were you running?"
"I'm sensitive to loud noises."
At least that's what his mother had told him after he cried until he passed out the first time he arrived in Tokyo.
"Wait, passed out?"
Murmurs of confusion and surprise sounded in unison.
"Was it really that serious?" The concern in Bachira's voice made Isagi feel shy.
He scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "It's really not a big deal." He felt his cheeks flush slightly.
"And you're in Shibuya? Are you an idiot?"
There wasn't a shred of malice in Rin's voice. He was asking genuinely.
"'Rin' and 'genuine' in the same sentence feels unprecedented." Once again, Shidou couldn't resist making a joke.
A loud bang from Rin's chair silenced the laughter.
"Ah, you son of a bitch, I'm sick of your jokes. One more like that and I'll kill you!" shouted the boy with the cold eyes.
The brunette laughed, not taking the situation seriously in the slightest. Beside him, a short blue-haired boy widened his eyes.
"Hey, I'm sitting here. If you're gonna hit him, do it away from my chair."
His voice was relatively calm compared to the expression on his face.
"Relax, Blue Boy. That idiot wouldn't stand a chance against me in a fight." Ryuusei jumped up from his chair so quickly that it tipped backward.
"What did you call me?" Rin did the same.
But before either of them could throw the first punch, their bodies were slammed back into their chairs with force. They were forced to remain seated. Even though Shidou struggled, he couldn't move a single inch.
"Didn't I already say fighting wasn't allowed, you sons of bitches?" The rabbit radiated anger.
Though it was admittedly funny seeing a small rodent dressed as a clown getting angry.
"Keep watching!"
"I came to buy groceries for my mom." Isagi wiped away the tears that nearly slipped from his eyes.
Rin smiled slightly. "Do you live around here?"
Isagi nodded, still holding tightly onto his friend's chubby hand.
"I came to play at the playground." He pointed to a park up ahead, where children of various ages were playing.
"Do you want to come with me? We can play afterward." He offered his brightest smile, trying to convince the little boy in front of him.
"Hm, alright. Where are we going?" Rin felt pressured by the blue in those eyes.
"You shouldn't accept invitations from just anyone like that." One of the adults warned.
"But he was a child too?" The sentence sounded more like a question than a statement.
"Doesn't matter."
"Chris, please shut up."
The two children walked down the street. Rin knew the quieter routes and guided them along the way. At no point did they let go of each other's hands. Isagi listened attentively and curiously to everything Rin said.
"My brother is the best player in the world." The child said proudly.
Rin was grateful for his expressionless face because he regretted that innocence nowadays. The embarrassment almost made his cheeks turn red.
On the other hand, Sae showed a small smile, nearly imperceptible, remembering the sweet child his brother used to be.
"A player of what?"
"Football!"
And once again, that word appeared before Yoichi.
"Maybe it's fate." Chigiri laughed.
There was something ironic about it. The boy destined to play football was the same one who kept complaining about it.
Hugo laughed quietly at the red-haired Japanese boy's assumption. He was always surprised by how powerful fate could be, and a sense of vindication rose in his chest at being right.
"Stop smiling like that, robot." Charles mocked.
"Shut up." He shot back.
"Stop talking and pay attention to the screen." Loki reprimanded them.
"Is that the game you were playing earlier?" he asked curiously.
""Football isn't just a game!" Rin exclaimed. Right after, he looked confused. "You've never played?"
Yoichi shook his head. "No."
"I can teach you! Then we can play together!" the sweet child smiled, and Isagi couldn't help but think about it.
Rin had his doubts about this scene. In his memories, he pretended that this moment, among many others, had never existed. But now, being forced to watch it again, he felt regret mixed with anger. Playing together... How could two different situations lead to the same destiny? Whose fault was it, in the end?
He hated being forced to think about it. He deliberately thought about it when he wanted to fuel his anger toward Sae, using bitter and distorted memories. With Isagi, it was completely different, a forced indifference. He wished he could pretend that meeting the boy had been nothing more than a hallucination from his memories, like those situations where you can't tell whether something was a vivid dream or reality.
"What a fucking mess." He hissed, forcing his teeth shut so that nothing else would come out of his mouth.
"Playing together... Doesn't that remind you of something, Onazi?" Kuso laughed beside his best friend.
"You mean us playing together when we were kids?" the other shot back, just as amused.
The boy with the braids gave a mischievous smile as he raised an eyebrow. "I mean us trying to convince you while you threw a tantrum."
Onazi put on a fake look of indignation. "Cut it out!" He lightly punched his friend's shoulder, who only laughed in response.
Bachira watched the scene on the screen with a childish pout, feeling jealous. "Hey, Isagi, why didn't we meet when we were kids? I would've liked to play with you too." His pout made Isagi let out small laughs.
"Sorry, Bachira." He ran a hand through the yellow and brown hair of the boy beside him. "We'll make up for it by going out together."
'A date?' Bachira thought, smiling brightly enough to power a nuclear plant.
"We'll play together?" He put into different words, perhaps even more special ones, what he had in mind.
Meguru was far from understanding what love was, or what romantic feelings were. But he liked Isagi's company. He liked being understood without having to fight for it. He liked the feeling of peace in his chest.
At the same time, he hated seeing Isagi hurt, a need to comfort him rising instinctively.
Meguru didn't know what love was.
But he knew how special it was.
'Would I be a hypocrite if I criticized something and then immediately did it myself?' he wondered, but quickly pushed the thought aside. He didn't care about things like that. The idea sounded fun.
"Okay."
Yoichi wondered if accepting had been a good idea.
The older Isagi found himself trapped in thought as he relived the scene in full color. Football had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. Even if he didn't like it today, he understood the weight the sport had carried in his life.
Above all, Isagi knew himself well. Even if Rin hadn't introduced him to it, he would've found a way to learn, and in the end everything would've led to the same destination.
He let out a sigh. "This is making me way too reflective."
"Yeah, that makes you a hypocrite, kid."
His reflective moment was brutally interrupted when Nagi made a particularly sharp comment.
When everyone's eyes turned toward him, Reo was the one who did damage control. "Nagi! For the love of God, watch your mouth."
Karasu cleared his throat. "Well, I was thinking the same thing."
Isagi got annoyed. "Ah, shut up!"
Beside him, Bachira simply laughed uncontrollably.
"So, what did you all think?"
The atmosphere was interrupted by the rabbit. The screen faded into darkness.
Then lights turned on. Now, every face in the room was perfectly visible.
"Ugh, that's bright."
"My eyes! Warn us before you do that, idiot!"
"Somebody turn the lights off..."
Complaints came from every corner.
The creature huffed, tired. "You all complain about everything. Just tell me already, what did you think of my dear Yoichi?"
"A stupid kid." Kaiser answered, sounding somewhat bitter.
"He has potential." One of the Master Strikers replied.
"A great friend!"
"That was about the scene, not your relationship with him, Bachira." Chigiri warned the boy.
"I thought it was stupid."
Since it was Isagi himself speaking, he thought the rabbit would at least give his opinion a little more weight.
Instead, the disguised demon merely laughed and kept talking.
Isagi felt his eye twitch and a vein bulge on his forehead. Did nobody in that damn room take him seriously?!
"You don't seem satisfied with what you've been shown." The creature began. A wide smile spread across its face. "But that's only the beginning. The main event starts now."
"Be less subjective ." Ego remarked with his arms crossed.
"What do you mean, subjective?"
"Shut up, Zantetsu."
"Funny hearing that from you specifically, Jinpachi."
"Don't call me by my first name. We're not close." Ego shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"Have you ever heard of Blue Lock?" Shito said loudly.
Anri and Ego froze for a few seconds, Anri in particular being the one most visibly stunned.
"Hm? Blue Lock? What's that?"
"Lock... Is that supposed to be a metaphor for a prison?" Reo, being a good reader of both literature and social situations, took a guess.
"Hey! Blue Lock isn't a prison!" Anri defended immediately. She had gone through far too much to simply call the facility a prison... Maybe the contract terms looked like those of one, but that didn't mean anything!
All eyes turned toward her, the person most likely to have an answer.
"You know what he's talking about?" Ranze asked.
"More or less?"
"Is that a question or an answer?"
"I don't know?"
"My God, everyone here is insane." Barou nearly smacked himself. "Just tell us what's going on already, you damned rabbit." The rabbit casually adjusted its clown hat.
For some reason, Yoichi felt offended by the clown appearance, though he couldn't explain why.