Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sae swears BL High used to not be this dramatic. That, or college application hell gave him rose-colored glasses for literally anything other than writing another damned “Why this college?” essay, and all the signs of the brewing storm had flown right over his head in the process. Understandable. Even this is still preferable, but seriously, was Isagi Yoichi always this popular? Sae’s met the kid before: soft spoken, squishable, generally forgettable at first glance–-essentially the opposite of what he’d expect to be the eye of the drama mill. What about Kaiser and his maybe-maybe not situation with Ness? How about Shidou Ryusei, the school demon who terrorizes the senior class? Or even his own brother, Mr. Number-One-Tall-Dark-And-Handsome who topped the front page of the school newspaper nearly all of fall semester? All much easier targets, and yet, the name that pops up the most in the alarmingly full pages of Sae’s records notebook remains Isagi Yoichi.

Four years at this godforsaken school and three leading it and at the last leg it decides to pull this, as if Sae hasn’t had more than his fill of controversy, call outs, break ups, make ups, both his and others’. Sure, he wouldn’t say no to at least a little sprinkle to spice up the monotonous routine, but this is much more comparable to having food shoveled down an unwilling throat than slowly savoring each bite.

The clatter of pans and the creak of the dish cabinet that Sae swears someone promised to oil two weeks ago interrupts his spiral. He looks up to see Rin at the counter pulling out a skillet and some tupperware boxes with that single minded focus that he approaches everything with.

“What are you doing.”

Rin doesn’t even turn towards him at the question, yet Sae can still hear the scowl surely painting his face in his blunt reply of “Dinner.”

The clock reads just past four in the afternoon.

“Yeah. Dinner just about three hours too early, now what are you actually doing?”

This time Rin does turn and glare, which Sae has come to assume to be his default expression. Alas, his poor little brother clearly never learned how to shape his face into any other emotion.

“So?”

Sae leans more on his arm and taps his pencil against his literature notes, clearly unimpressed.

“Are you being bullied? Is that why you’re making food? Are they forcing you to cook for them?”

The glare multiplies ten-fold and Sae’s brother slams the cabinet door closed so hard that the pans inside nearly ring from the residual energy. “It’s for a friend,” he growls out, voice dropping in volume as he faces the stove again and clicks the heat on.

Sae raises an eyebrow. “A friend?”

Rin swivels again, the glare upgraded to full on radiating hatred. Sae’s surprised he’s not dizzy yet with all this spinning. “Yes, a friend, now leave me alone.”

Is the sky falling to pieces? Rin admitting that he has a friend? Has he actually, finally gotten over the emo phase? It’s as if in the space of the few days that comprise winter break the entire world has been flipped upside down, and suddenly, a no name has catalyzed the total transformation of every aspect of Sae’s life. He shakes his head and focuses back on the bright neon green sticky note that he’s stuck to the edge of his notebook cover.

To-Do List:
- Meet with Karasu for info
- Give notice to Shidou Ryusei
- Find someone to stalk keep an eye on Isagi Yoichi
- Finish that stupid research paper

God. Let me out of high school already, Sae thinks. There’s not even popcorn.

Sae lets out a disgruntled huff as he rearranges the text of the movie night poster for the tenth time. He can’t decide on the style.

See, there’s an art to making shitty, high school event posters: it’s got to be simple enough that some kid on three hours of sleep and a cup of watered down coffee from the shop down the street can understand it with a glance, but tacky enough that it properly embodies the awkward spirit of adolescence. Essentially, it should be to the taste of admin, which is mostly made up of a bunch of old men clearly lacking knowledge of basic graphic design. That at least makes Sae’s job easier, since he apparently can’t even trust the rest of the student council to show up to weekly meetings, let alone take on any of the additional work to keep this trash-fire building just barely functioning.

Now that he thinks about it, are there even other people on the student council? It’s not an exaggeration for Sae to say it’s been over a year since he’s seen his fellow club members. They could have all quit at the beginning of senior year for all he knew. But, no matter, Sae likes it like that–after all, there’s no way anyone else has his years of experience experimenting with Canva to create the ideal, corny school graphics.

He shifts the date for the event over seven pixels again. The change is barely even noticeable. Perfect.

He’s been putting just a little extra effort into this poster, essentially using some more serious font than his default Comic Sans (the perfect mix of sincere and cringe!) and slapping a gradient in the background. This particular movie night happens to celebrate the beginning of the new winter soccer season along with a show match, which means at least half the school will be present. That’s half the school who have a chance of remembering not only what the poster will look like, but also the fact that Sae, as student council president, makes every single one of them. Can’t exactly leave a bad impression.

See, BL High is a soccer high school, meaning half the kids enrolled are idiots and only have the brain for kicking balls around a field. The way they're all blockhead strikers doesn't help either, what with their crazy ass principal’s obsession with the idea of ego and the creation of a star forward.

Pros: they’re the top school in the country in soccer.

Cons: nobody knows how to control their dramatic asses, so when something goes down, it isn’t going to resolve itself in a day, or even a month. A year is an optimistic prediction. With luck, it’ll be through by the time those involved graduate.

That’s why Sae’s so worried about this Isagi he’s been hearing so much about. Usually, he doesn’t intervene or mix with the rumor mill, but Isagi Yoichi just so happens to be the newest star player on the team. He’s heard Rin rant about this forward with spatial awareness and maybe even some favoritism from their coach, Noel Noa (how such a serious man puts up with their principal’s bullshit, Sae doesn’t want to know. He’s got a horrible suspicion of what exactly occurs whenever Ego calls Noa for a meeting and he truly hopes he’ll graduate without ever figuring it out, especially with the fact that Sae has already been exposed to the rumors involving the literature teacher Lavinho against his will), enough to know Isagi’s got to be at least a bit of the real deal. Sae would be interested in playing against him to test out his fabled abilities for himself, but he hasn’t touched the field in months. Soccer’s over to him.

Unfortunately, soccer is very much not over to the rest of the student body, and when the drama begins to revolve around the team it’s impossible to walk ten feet down the hallway without running into some wild conversation over the newest gossip. As things are going right now, Sae won’t be able to rest until graduation. He’s not putting up with that.

Though, knowing a little more dirt on his former teammates wouldn’t hurt either…

“Sae-channnn!!”

The chipper yell echoes and brings Sae’s attention to the hoard of students before him. He sees a glimpse of puffy hair with the underside dyed a neon yellow bounding towards him and thinks, Ah.

Bachira Meguru. Gossip girl #2. Exactly who Sae needs. He’s barreling down the hall like it isn’t barely a meter wide and clogged with tired students. Sae’s got to commend the tenacity and pure presence the other carries, but it’s nicer when it isn’t directly on a crash course with himself.

He side steps at the last second and Bachira goes tumbling into the group of first years milling behind him who yelp and curse at the sudden human cannonball. Bachira, for his part, giggles out a barely sincere “Oops!” and grins that sunshine grin that’s got half the school around his finger–the perfect weapon for collecting info out of unsuspecting victims.

“Sae-chan!! I can’t believe you’d call me so early and then refuse my affection like that!”

This creature is far too loud for eight in the morning. Should Sae just pretend this never happened? No. Endure. It’s for the drama wellbeing of the student body.

“You should know by now that I don’t like it when others touch me. And we’re not having this conversation in the middle of the hall.” With a brisk turn, Sae heads for the council office, ignoring the posse of students they’ve garnered through their antics. They’ll forget about it soon anyways.

“Hey! Not even a good morning? Sae-channn!”

I do not know him I do not know him I do not know him-

“Sae-chan” would like to emphasize that despite the conversation he just held with the gremlin there’s no chance the two were related in any shape or form and thus the crowd of gawking onlookers should know that the situation is out of his jurisdiction. Just a bee that happens to be calling out quite the common name. The fact that said bee also happens to be following him up the stairs is another peculiar coincidence that one should pay no mind to.

The student council room consists of a couple of bookshelves of textbooks, one steel table barely standing on its last legs, three cushioned metal chairs, two with cushions and one with the cushions removed following quite the unfortunate coffee spill, and a window covered with a set of twisted blinds. It’s hell but it’s home for Sae who spends the better part of his day holed up in the office in hopes of no one bothering him (an unreachable dream).

Bachira takes it all in and bounces onto a cushioned chair, legs thrown over the back to lean his elbows on the top. “So president Sae-chan, what did you need from me today?”

Sae sets his computer down on the table and closes it after a quick save before pulling back his own chair much more civilly to observe his conversation partner. Bachira’s nearly literally buzzing with energy, leg bouncing, fingers dancing: he’ll make this quick for his sake.

“Do you know Isagi Yoichi?” Sae states bluntly. No reason to speak in circles.

Bachira’s eyes thin and an unsettling grin promising nothing but trouble splits his cheeks. “Ooooo~ could it be that Mr. Student-Council-Pres-Extraordinaire has a crush on Isagi as well? Well, I can’t blame you-”

“No,” Sae interrupts. Bachira pouts. “I’m asking to know whether or not it’d be suspicious for you to keep an eye on his actions for the next week.”

“Ohhh,” Bachira nods enthusiastically, “Don’t worry! You’re talking to his best friend here! I’d keep an eye on him whether you ask me to or not! Why, though? And when should I check in with you?”

“I don’t have to explain that to you.” It’s for the gossip.

Bachira smirks but agrees anyway. Wonderful. Part one of the plan, beautifully executed. “Just meet me here after school at four from tomorrow on. I’m expecting good results from you.”

With that, the other flies out of the office with his laughter echoing down the hall towards his next adventures. Sae stays behind to cross off bullet number three on his sticky notes and leans back in his cheap metal chair.

Deep breaths Sae. You’ve survived Gossip Girl #2. How bad could Gossip Girl #1 be today? Hopefully nothing bad enough that a little yoga can’t fix.

Yoga is definitely not enough. Sae needs a fucking full body massage and a vacation.

He finds Karasu in the computer lab, unsurprisingly. Just as unsurprising is the blatant porn tab he has open, headphones not even plugged in. The overly exaggerated moan that greets Sae as he approaches is not appreciated.

“Well aren’t you being productive? I thought you’re supposed to be working on the newspaper? I’d think you'd have something bigger to report on than your masturbation habits. And didn’t admin just re-block that site?”

Karasu glances over and grins, not even bothering to pause the video. Another horrible gasp sounds from the tinny, cheap speakers of the school computer and Sae reminds himself of his goal. It’s necessary.

“Ah Sae, how lovely to see you! Just as uptight as usual, huh? Have I told you before that you need to relax? Considered a boyfriend yet? Bet he could fu-”

“Worry about your own love life if you’re still resorting to porn. I thought you asked Hiori out a week ago?”

Karasu hisses and lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, he said he’d think about it, but let’s face it, it’s Hiori. He only says that because he knows a flat out rejection is mean. Hey, I’m almost hurt by the fact that he thought a little rejection would hurt me that bad! I’ve got thick skin!”

Almost like a punctuation, the video adds in its own opinion with a terribly fake wheeze. Karasu’s smile twitches.

Sae peers at the other’s face with its barest hints of dark smudges decorating the eyes and reflects upon the slight tremor in his voice.

“Sure. Whatever you want to tell yourself. Now turn that off, I have business with you.”

With a roll of the eyes and a final pathetic whimper from the speakers, the tab is closed (not before Sae notices the bookmark… gross) and Karasu pushes away from the computer desk to spin in an obnoxious circle to face Sae. He throws his arms back to support himself with elbows on the table behind him, slouching in his chair and plastering his signature sleazy smirk on his face. “What’s up Pres? You only come seek me out when you got something real serious going on.”

His eyes trail to the clock hanging above the entrance to the room. It’s crooked and clearly on the verge of falling from its hook. “Already nine? Might it be that the perfect little president is skipping class to see me? Should I be flattered? School sweetheart of four years is pining desperately over my attention! I can already imagine the comments I’d get for that in the group chat.”

A frown curls over Sae’s lips. “What group chat?” He doesn’t even deign to address the rest of Karasu’s taunt.

“I need info on whatever the hell happened over break. You know my brother and I were abroad. What’s going on with Isagi Yoichi that’s got half the school talking about him?”

That seems to get Karasu’s full attention, his eyes lighting up with a gleam that promises nothing but suffering. He even shifts from his half-melted position, chair releasing a hellish screech as he pushes it back slightly to lean forward with his hands clasped in his lap.

“Ah, so he’s even in your sights as well? That Isagi Yoichi. Well, you should know already about how he’s risen to fame from his performance in the soccer team. Unfortunate that you weren’t around for break though, that’s where the story really begins. The soccer’s just a backstory in comparison.”

“Get to the point.”

“I don’t know all the details because I wasn’t invited, but Reo had a party at his place at the beginning of break, and everything fell apart there.”

A party? It isn’t surprising on its own exactly, Reo can be a bit of a doormat when it comes to the appreciation of others, so he holds parties at his massive mansion every other time his parents aren’t home. Last Sae heard they were settling some company deals in California, must be why there was another one over break. It’s been a while.

“Who was on the guest list then?”

Karasu turns back to the still open computer, the bright light of the newly opened spreadsheet turning his face pale. The sheet contains a list of names and notes.

“Well Nagi of course. Chigiri, Kunigami, Bachira, Kaiser, Ness, and our new drama king, Isagi himself. Plus a bunch of other random people Reo was too nice to refuse.”

“Kaiser?” How the hell did he get into the party? Sae knows for a fact that Reo and Kaiser have never been on good terms. Well, that isn’t saying all that much. Nobody’s on good terms with Kaiser other than Ness. Only the strongest of them can put up with Kaiser and Sae is glad that he’s not on that level. Tried it out before in sophomore year and absolutely would not recommend the experience to another-–Kaiser’s an arrogant asshole and can barely think past his own nose.

Karasu frowns. “Can’t explain that one to you. I’m just as surprised.” He shifts slowly in his chair, head bent over the back and studying the tiles of the school roof, eyes trailing after a spot where the pipe had split open over break and water began to seep through. The place really is falling apart. “I’d assume it’s got something to do with blackmail, considering it seems to be Kaiser’s signature trick. But whatever information it is, Reo’s hiding it well, since even I haven’t figured it out yet.”

It’s not a great sign first and foremost because it’s Kaiser of all people making a move, but the fact that he’s willing to bother Reo is even more concerning. Kaiser transferred to BL High in Sae’s second year and therefore Reo’s first and immediately skyrocketed to the top of the popularity ladder. Unsurprising: with his striking tattoo and two toned hair as well as a handsome face and a unique accent, he was the talk of the school for a week straight. What set him apart though, was his ability to maintain that popularity whether through his skill on the pitch or the constant drama that he both flames and sparks. Kaiser lives by the motto “all publicity is good publicity” like it’s engraved into each of his cells from the tips of his toes to the top of his pompous hair. Sae can’t stand him.

But Reo wasn’t any less popular any less quick. A social butterfly from a rich background and a mansion he’s willing to open to the public for parties every other week made a spot in his inner circle the most vied after position in the school overnight. It’s the quintessential mean girl or soft rich sweetie dilemma and Sae’s stuck in the middle.

He’s not forgotten by any definition: being student council president brought particular attention whether he tried to hide or not and with his admittedly above average looks and position on the prestigious soccer team he’s got a bit of a following of his own. Not that he did anything about it other than accept the veritable mountain of chocolates each Valentines Day, which he passed off to Rin most of the time as his brother couldn’t reject any gift from him even after their relationship soured somewhat. Presumably Rin gives them away afterwards, but it’s out of Sae’s hands at that point.

Nevertheless, Kaiser colluding with Reo meant a litany of negative implications. First of all, Sae fears for Reo’s sanity. He murmurs a small apology to him for all the inevitable suffering that comes with being in Kaiser’s bullseye of unwanted attention in his head. Second, never a good sign for two of the most popular people in the school to be interacting in general. It either means a massive popularity war is brewing, or Sae is about to face a hivemind of the two’s combined fanclub in the coming weeks, neither option appealing in the slightest. Sae’s going to have to talk to Reo next. They aren’t exactly best friends considering they share no classes and the extent of their relationship is that time Reo lent Sae a coin for the vending machine back at the beginning of the year after awkwardly watching Sae fail to get the card reader to function for a full two minutes. Humiliating, yes, but Reo wasn’t such an ass as to spread the information around so Sae supposes he’s an amicable person. A little conversation wouldn’t hurt.

Sae’s about to turn to thank Karasu (grudgingly, he’d like to remind) for the information and head towards the roof to check off bullet number two when Karasu starts first.

“Ah, though it isn’t news about the party, I think you might be interested to hear that Nagi’s been hanging out with Isagi instead of Reo ever since we got back. Wonder what’s going on there?”

Another issue? Sae groans internally, there’s more than enough on his plate already. He takes out his notebook and adds onto the sticky note in a noticeably more frustrated scrawl “Talk to Reo about Kaiser and Nagi” before huffing out the thank you and goodbye on his way out. Seems the situation is much more complicated than he first assumed. If he ends up pulling an all nighter for this he’s going to pay someone to break into Kaiser’s house and burn his exorbitant hair care collection. Serves him right for everything he’s put Sae through.

“And seriously, think about the whole boyfriend thing. It doesn’t even got to be that, but you’ve gotta put yourself out there somehow. The soccer team misses you, you know?”

Sae ignores him. It’s his skill they miss anyway.

Shidou Ryusei might be yet another outstanding forward belonging to BL’s soccer team, but he doesn’t share the same popularity as the rest of them. Unlike someone like Rin, where even despite his total lack of interest for anything other than kicking balls still has a posse of followers that shadow his every step, Shidou experiences the opposite. He walks down the hall and students scatter, unsavory whispers of his violence trailing after him in the same manner enamored giggles would trail any other.

Even administration has generally given up on handling his antics. Sae’s sure that Shidou’s accumulated at least fifty detentions over the course of just the fall season, just as he’s sure Shidou hasn’t gone to a single one of them. They’ve resorted to assigning Sae to deliver Shidou’s newest detention in person, this one likely for one of many tardies, in hopes that Shidou might actually listen to a fellow peer.

What a load of bullshit. It’s just because they’ve got to keep up the appearance of at least trying to discipline students so people don’t follow Shidou’s footsteps but don’t want to actually have to pick themselves off of their overly expensive desk chairs even once. But Sae needs to keep his position at least for the sake of appearances (and because it’d be humiliating to have to email all the colleges he applied to tell them the news), so, here he is.

Like any other good delinquent, Shidou Ryusei’s usual haunts include the school roof during hours that it definitely should be closed. It’s a bit of an open secret that the roof door lock has been broken for the past two years as administration’s favorite method for fixing issues is pretending they don’t exist in the first place.

Before Shidou came to the school the roof was the prime location for any meet up of any type: from love confessions to shady deals, saying the roof’s seen a lot would be an understatement. But with his sharp personality and propensity for violence, Shidou has made it his domain entirely. Nobody dares breach it.

Nobody but Sae, who truly could not care less. He slams the door open to announce his entrance, the opening framing blue sky and Shidou bouncing a soccer ball to himself. He doesn’t immediately react as Sae strides up to him but a feral grin makes an appearance to accompany the rhythmic taps of the ball against his shoes. Despite the strong winds of the rooftop, he doesn’t lose control or pace for even a moment. There’s something almost graceful about it, Sae decides.

“Heyyy Eyelashes Senior,” Shidou drawls. The dribble doesn’t stop but he peers at Sae’s approaching figure from the corner of those glowing pink eyes. He’s not wearing much for the beginning of January, just a black tank top and a pair of equally black cargo pants and a couple of rubber arm bands. His hair is pushed back by a zigzag hair band, and there’s paint stains crawling up the base of his pants like vines. Sae searches the roof and doesn’t even find a bag the other’s brought to school. Sure likes to travel light.

He returns his gaze to Shidou who seems to be still waiting on a response. With a jingle of one of the charms that his mom forced him to keep as a souvenir from their family trip to Spain two years ago, Sae sighs and slips his bag off his shoulder. Out of the largest pocket he pulls out a paper, slightly crumpled at the left corner but otherwise in pristine condition. “Principal has something for you.”

As the paper was still holding Sae’s focus, Shidou’s giggled out cry of “Eyelashes Senior! Catch!” flies right by him and he raises his eyes back up to see the ball that Shidou had been playing with heading straight for his face.

Without a second thought, Sae drops both the paper and his bag on the ground and hops up to meet the ball and trap it with his chest. There’s a slight twinge at the ease of the whole motion, like he hasn’t left the pitch at all, like he never swore off soccer in the first place and all these months of inactivity and forceful turning from the calls and shrieks of former teammates as they raced each other across the field in ecstacy evaporated in an instant. Then the moment’s gone and like a judge’s gavel the ball falls to his feet. Sae watches it bounce slightly then roll across the concrete ground cut from its strings and empty of all life. It returns to Shidou who has remained at his position by the roof edge during the whole exchange, and he breathes motion back into it with a simple tap lift. The twinge returns and Sae refuses to give it a name.

Somehow, some quality in Shidou’s grin has softened. “You know, Eyelashes Senior, we never did get to play together, did we?” He’s gone back to shifting the ball around with his feet, sending it up into the air every now and again. This time though, the full force of his intense attention is on Sae.

Sae knows. He recalls the first time he saw Shidou play, how he played like it was twenty-one vs. one and without a care in the world. He remembers how Shidou’s voice filled up the whole field like water overflowing a too small cup when he drove a goal in with an acrobatic bicycle kick. He remembers the fight he got into with Rin afterwards like two feral cats. Everyone agreed after that the two probably shouldn’t be on the same team. Everyone also agreed in a much quieter, much more secret way that Shidou maybe shouldn’t be playing at all. So he didn’t.

“So what?” Sae asks as he bends to collect the dropped paper. There’s a footprint stain on the back where Sae accidentally stepped on it when he trapped the ball.

“Looks like you’d still be worth playing with after all.” He barrels on without hearing a single word out of Sae’s mouth.

Sae glares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a final tap, Shidou finally lets the ball fall and turns to face Sae entirely. There’s a seriousness in his face that surprises Sae somehow. “Exactly what you think it means. Can’t make any explosions with someone who can’t even play anymore because he ran away at the first hint of push back. But maybe you’ve still got something in you.”

“Excuse me?” Despite his best efforts to stay cool, whatever piece of Shidou that lets him stare through Sae like that, like he’s searching for something and finds Sae lacking in a way that nobody else ever does, makes rage bubble up from inside.

The other doesn’t back down, stare steady. “But isn’t it stifling? Playing because you’re scared that you’ll disappoint everyone, stopping just because you might not be the best, perfect little pet everyone thinks you are, thinking that you can avoid failure by just not trying at all?”

An ugly, howling feeling begins to claw at the walls of Sae’s throat, desperately begging to be set free in response to Shidou’s taunts. He wants to tell him he’s wrong, that he doesn’t understand Sae at all, that they’ve spoken maybe only once before so Shidou couldn’t possibly understand at all but it stays trapped inside because, really, Sae barely even knows why he stopped.

It wasn’t something that happened all at once. It was more like a slow trickle, like the last drops of water that cling to a faucet not totally turned off. It started when he began to leave earlier from practices. His participation dwindled. A week or two passed, and he’s only showing up less than half the time–from there quitting was quiet. A silent affair, unlike the splashes of his name printed in bold, praise-filled text splitting the top of sports magazines across the country that accompanied his debut.

The whole thing was a blur of days bleeding into more days, dates seeping into more dates, spaces eating up more spaces. Sae just wants to forget it all and move on. He’s on the verge of picking up his entire life and starting over at some institution miles away where he’ll never have to face his brother, his classmates, their voices, their love and their hate, their eyes-. Why must this stupid bug who barely gets to play in two games a season drag it back up to the surface?

He still finds his mouth shaping around the words “Shut up. You don’t know anything,” but even Sae knows it’s an empty phrase, a defense mechanism as Shidou left him off-kilter and grasping at straws. Those unsettling pink eyes still bore into him, unreadable.

Sae gathers whatever pieces of himself are left and marches up to Shidou without meeting his gaze. He slams the stupid paper that he came here for against the other’s chest. “Here. This is a letter from the principal about your behavior. You’ve got detention. Again.” It crumples slightly under his grip.

A warm hand comes up to wrap around his own, holding it against that firm chest. Sae feels his heart jump in surprise, but he doesn’t turn to look at Shidou. He doesn’t think he can even if he tries. So he doesn’t.

At this range, Shidou’s voice rumbles low and slow. “Sae-chan. Even if you’re right and I really don’t know you at all, I know from the way you jumped when I passed you that ball that there’s more to what happened than just a loss of love. I know from the way you would loosen up on the field that at some point, you, like me, thought of soccer as a biological necessity. I don’t know what happened, sure, but my cells are telling me this: you’ve got something special, and I wanna know how it feels to play with you. So meet me here tomorrow. I’ve got something to show you.”

The warmth leaves Sae’s hand that has gone slack and Shidou shifts from under his grip. He walks to the roof door that Sae never closed ever since he entered, only stopping to scoop up the ball into his arms. Sae focuses on how he indeed does not have a bag he takes with him as their positions switch, Shidou now by the door and Sae at the railing, so he won’t accidentally focus on what the other said.

Wait.

Sae’s eyes narrow as Shidou’s figure fades away down the stairs, and he surveys the roof again, eyes coming to a stop on that cursed, slightly crumpled, footprint-marked paper.

He didn’t even take the goddamn notice Sae came here to give.

Sae waits a touch longer on the rooftop so that he might avoid running into Shidou again on the way down. He stares out at the main courtyard of the school and avoids looking too far to the left. There’s no need to turn his head in order to know what sight waits for him there, he can already see it too clearly without prompt anyway. The wideness of the sky, the smallness of the people mingling amongst peers–watching over it all like a hawk, Sae ponders Shidou’s proposition. Something to show him, huh?

Leaving the railing and the view behind, Sae sighs as he heads to the door. Shidou hadn’t closed it either when he left earlier so Sae makes sure to remember to do so on his way out. The metal lets out a groan as it grinds together behind him, but Sae pays it no mind with how much is running through his head. He walks half unaware until he reaches the first floor by the library. There’s voices.

“Why are you even telling me this?”

Sae jolts. That’s Reo’s voice. He presses his side to the wall and inconspicuously peaks around it at the situation around the corner. Reo is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed wearing a pinched expression. In front of him stands Michael-fucking-Kaiser with his dumbass face pulled into that sickening smirk that he wears whenever he knows he’s causing pain to all those in his close proximity. What the hell is going on?

Kaiser looks off to the side with a lazy roll of his eyes like everything is beneath him. “Because I care about my fellow peers?” His gaze snaps back onto Reo at that, whose face has only gotten tighter. Then cackles break the air as Kaiser doubles over laughing. His stupid little wheeze sounds like a donkey’s dying breath.

“Obviously not! You know me though, I love the drama. But you know what, Reo, you’ve always been a nice guy! Is it so wrong that I want to look out for you?”

Reo does not seem like he’s buying it. Good.

“I’d rather you not.”

“Oh, but I already am! Don’t be so ungrateful as to brush off my goodwill so harshly! After all,” His voice drops then, the temperature seemingly dropping with it, “think about where you’d be with Nagi if I didn’t intervene.”

Nagi? Reo tenses up so fast at the mention of the pale-haired’s name that Sae swears he can almost see the defensive walls rising if he squints hard enough. Kaiser doesn’t miss the change in posture either and he takes the chance to slink closer and throw an arm around Reo’s shoulders which only makes him tense more.

“Ah poor, poor Reo having to find out about his sweetheart like that. But hey, at least it’s better than living a blissful lie!” Kaiser’s arm tightens around Reo, who turns his head the other way. His own tightens around his torso and makes his entire body seem smaller, more vulnerable. Not a good side to present in front of a drama shark like Kaiser.

Silence covers the pair and Reo shrinks even more into himself. Waring alarms blare in Sae’s head and he fights the urge to bring his hands to his face. To continue the shark metaphor, what Reo’s doing would be equivalent to dumping a bucket of blood straight into murky waters.

Kaiser’s grin becomes truly shark-like at that moment. Reo’s screwed.

“I know, I know. You thought Nagi was yours, didn’t you. I mean, we all did! But what he did at the party… You know you can’t just pretend it never happened now, right?”

A scathing glare. “It’s probably not what you think it is. I mean, what even was the context? I’m sure Nagi has an explanation and we’ll go back to how we used to be once he tells me so we don’t,” Like a statue reanimated, Reo suddenly moves to shove Kaiser off and stride away, “need your assistance!”

Undeterred and eyes still gleaming with a menacing sharpness, Kaiser brings his hand up to his face, mocking. “Ah, but where is that explanation anyway? Hasn’t it been a week already? But what’s this, Nagi still hasn’t even tried to contact you about it, has he? And you were so upset that day too… Maybe he really doesn’t care at all.”

Reo freezes and stops mid step but doesn’t turn. Sae thinks he can see his shoulders shaking gently. The blond slowly walks up to him and continues, words dripping with more and more poison with each addition.

As an outsider, Sae knows that what Kaiser’s saying probably isn’t really the whole picture even with his limited knowledge of the situation. But still then, Kaiser’s so good at finding and digging into insecurities people don’t even realize they have until he drags them to the surface that it’s impossible to escape. The words seep into skin and stay there like invisible seeds that grow and grow until they’ve grown too big, roots too tangled to remove and his victims can only helplessly wait until they split them apart entirely. In that way, Sae supposes he and Shidou’s discerning gaze are similar. Yet, he finds that the burning hatred that Kaiser always manages to bring out is missing with Shidou, even as the same anger at their perceptiveness remains.

This conversation will be no different if Reo can’t bring himself to leave after denying what Kaiser said. He’s caught in the other’s personal trap now, a fly in a spider’s web.

Kaiser doesn’t let up for a moment. He drawls, “Oh don’t act surprised now. Everyone knows that you’re only popular because of your money. Is it so strange that Nagi’s just another one of those after you because it’s convenient? Because you’ve got a pretty house and free alcohol every other week? Didn’t he ask for money when you first met him anyway?”

“Think about it now Reo, without those blinders you always wear when it comes to anything involving Nagi. What have you done for him? You carry him around, take care of his every need, drag him to your parties and your friends–-you’ve dumped all this time and energy into him and how does he reciprocate? With nothing.” Kaiser’s almost singing. He knows he’s basically gotten his way.

“He doesn’t tell you that you matter, he doesn’t bring you gifts or seek you out to spend time together, he just leeches on your goodwill because you’re too naive to realize and too soft to accept reality even if you did.”

Reo turns then and his face burns a bright scarlet, eyes blazing at the insult to his partner. But Sae knows that too is another mistake, facing Kaiser and seeing the way he carries himself with such confidence as if every word out of his mouth is gospel. It’ll only entrench him further.

Kaiser’s covered the slight distance between him and Reo in the time it took to deliver his spiel, and Reo stumbles back in surprise at the lack of space, shattering his image of surety in comparison to Kaiser’s solid yet relaxed stance.

“He never even confessed to you, did he? You and everyone else always acted like you two were the perfect, inseparable couple–-iconic, as if there was no Reo without Nagi and no Nagi without Reo. But that was all built on assumptions. Assumptions that you were dating. Assumptions that Nagi actually wanted to be your friend at all.”

Reo steps back. Kaiser steps forward.

“Shut up, shut up-!”

“And even if he did,” The glee that coats Kaiser’s voice is sickening.

“Nobody would love you anyway if they knew about that.”

That’s a breaking point. Reo silences but he clearly can’t bear to hear another word, so he rushes down the hall at a pace that’s between a quick walk and a desperate run, footsteps echoing.

Note to self: check in with Reo at some point after this, Sae thinks and moves to leave the scene. That conversation was clearly rough. Also, what did Kaiser mean by “that”? Is it the blackmail that Karasu mentioned?

“Enjoy my show?”

Sae jumps and whips around, eyes wide. Kaiser is still facing the direction that Reo left in but his voice is clear. His cover’s blown. No reason to keep hiding now.

He steps out from behind the wall.

“Why are you going after Reo all of a sudden?”

That smirk of his-–Sae hates the memories it brings up, hates how easily they come back up.

“What makes you think that you can force me to tell you? You might be popular, my dear Sae, but you spend all your time holed up in that little office of yours hiding from everyone that the actually popular one might as well be the imagined version of ‘perfect student council president’ people’ve got in their heads.”

Sae remembers now that the blistering heat of rage has always been accompanied by that piercing cold of being too seen. The two clash together–that’s why all of Kaiser’s victims stand before him paralyzed as he speaks, stuck between extremes.

The other’s blue rat tail brushes past Sae’s shoulder as he strolls by. “Don’t cross me, Sae. You know by now what will happen if you start meddling now.”

Kaiser pauses for a moment, and Sae feels something being forced into his unmoving hand. He grasps it out of reflex and glances down to see it’s a photo.

“But I’ll take pity on you anyway. As a show of goodwill, just for you and our past relationship. Do with it what you will.”

With that, Kaiser leaves Sae alone in the hall, halfway reeling from being ripped open and observed not once, but twice in a row.

Mechanically, Sae brings the photo up to look over its contents, and when he makes out exactly what the dark splashes of ink on the glossy surface depict he sucks in a sharp breath.

It’s a photo from the party. Nagi and Isagi stand on the balcony of Reo’s mansion, frozen under the camera lens and glowing from silver moonlight.

Nagi’s hand is resting on the other’s cheek, the other on the railing and partly caging Isagi in, a small smile adorning his face.

Chapter Text

Some months prior: September, the beginning of Sae’s senior year.

He didn’t turn the lights on when he returned, just letting the blue-black of the night flood the building without interruption. Somewhere in the back of his mind Sae’s convinced himself that if he pretends there’s no one home then Rin would forget Sae's presence and his lack of it at practice.

So he curls deeper into his covers and wishes for a moment for all to disappear. All his duties as captain, his responsibilities as a role model, the expectations of his teammates. The fact that he knows Rin has gotten suspicious and so even if it isn’t today, he’ll eventually ask Sae if there’s something wrong in that too concerned voice that holds too much admiration for a brother who probably doesn’t deserve it. What does Sae really do for Rin anyway? Buy the cheapest popsicle at that old lady’s stand every now and again to please him with the least effort possible?

That warm, entranced look: he used to think that there wasn’t anything to be more proud of. His little brother’s respect felt much more real than the glowing remarks of his coach or the local newspaper when his parents handed it to him each month. Rin’s admiration wasn’t just because he saw Itoshi Sae, soccer prodigy, but Itoshi Sae, best big brother.

But Sae’s confidence in that position wanes with each time he can’t bring himself to stay for more than an hour amongst his teammates. Memories from how he’d used to run across the grass until the sun dipped below the trees and the flood lights spilled their harsh white glow over the field feel years away now. Does Rin love him for more than his skill, his pass? Probably. If Sae breaks it down rationally the answer is clear. Yet here, hidden from the world through a barrier of cloth and down accompanied only with his phone and his thoughts, he doubts.

The phone is partly to blame. He should chuck the hunk of metal across the room and never look at it again, but something urges him to click it on, finger mindlessly drawn to the internet symbol and then mindlessly drawn to typing in his name into the search bar.

Back in elementary and middle school Sae used this for self care, basking in the praise that littered the results page, giggling at the articles that claimed there must be foul play. There wasn’t anything more pleasing in the world than knowing his skill shocked so many, his play so dominant, that people resorted to trying to claw him from his spot as “the best” with jealousy and lies. He was arrogant, but the arrogance was warranted--afterall, he just simply was that good. For many years Sae didn’t doubt that reality. A simple fact of life: the sky’s blue, water’s wet, and Itoshi Sae is this country’s greatest treasure, a prodigy among prodigies.

The words that mar the results differ greatly now. But his constant scrolling down the page hasn’t.

It’s already been two weeks since the incident and yet the aftermath still swirls around Sae’s life like a particularly irritating swarm of mosquitos in the middle of summer. Honestly, Sae’s not even sure there has been a decrease in intensity. There’s still just as many articles, just as many interview offers and journalists begging for a word.

Perhaps Sae should clarify the play already and hope that it all would trickle away into obscurity, but he barely can convince himself to face his team. The entire country's out of the question. So he lies scrolling through his own special brand of self-torture, a sort of morbid fascination with how quickly media turned on him.

There’s a quiet click from the front door signifying Rin’s return. Sae checks the time in the corner of the screen. It’s past nine. Rin’s been at practice for over six hours straight. The guilt that brews in his chest roars at the realization, and Sae continues to pray that Rin will somehow walk right past his door and begin his cool down that he always refuses to do in the company of anyone else like any other day.

A soft thump of Rin’s sports bag hitting the ground and steady footsteps up the stairs to his room shatter this hope, and even before the door is pushed open Sae already knows there’s no more escaping.

Rin stands still on the carpet without speaking a word for a minute which Sae spends fruitlessly pretending he has no idea the other exists. He hasn’t turned his phone off, though Sae can no longer focus on the fuzzy letters it displays.

“Nii-san.”

He sounds sad, a far cry from the joyous way Rin usually calls out to him. Sae doesn’t respond.

“I know you’re still awake. I can see the light from your phone under the covers.”

Fuck, can he? Yet Sae still doesn’t turn the damn device off, like there’s some magic pull it exerts over him that keeps him transfixed to all those headlines criticizing his every action. Not that it matters now that it’s already given him away.

Rin pauses afterwards, and Sae reads the next line of text on the page in the space: “Itoshi Sae, Fallen Prodigy? Critical Mistake Leading To Loss In Summer State Finals!”

It continues in the blurb underneath the link.

This is the first year that BL High has lost the state championships since its creation over half a decade ago. Many thought that captain Itoshi Sae would be vital to keeping its undefeated streak based on his astonishing performance before he entered the school, but it seems now that the team has proverbially flown too close to the sun…

The article has nothing of substance to offer, only baseless speculative drivel. Rechecking the source, Sae notices it’s from a magazine called “Teen Monthly.” Why the hell does “Teen Monthly” even care about what’s going on in Sae’s life?

“If you don’t want to say anything nii-san, then that’s okay, but will you at least listen to me?”

Ah, Rin’s still there. Sure, he’ll listen. Not that he has much of a choice nor does he choose to inform his brother of this decision.

Luckily, or perhaps actually unluckily, Rin takes the silence as confirmation and continues on. “I’m guessing you didn’t go to practice today again.” He takes several pauses awkwardly, like the words originate from a foreign language he’s only just started learning. “You know nii-san, the team misses you. You’ll always be the center of it, no matter if you were captain or not. I mean, who else would be captain? Shidou?”

Rin huffs out a fake little laugh at that. Sae thinks, You would, because he’s seen the way the other players watch Rin, and Sae’s watched him just the same. Rin has that charisma of pure ability that draws people into his orbit despite his stand-offish nature, a sort of combination of elegance and strength that can balance the various egos comprising the team. Most of all though, the piece that Rin has that Sae never really did in its totality, is the drive to score goals that their teammates admire the most.

“I know what you’re going through is probably personal or whatever and I’m not going to pretend I understand it. But nii-san, there’s a game coming up in two days, and we need you to lead us.”

Sae hears the silent double meaning in his brother’s words: I need you to lead me. He wants to scoff.

“Isn’t that fact enough?”

It’s obvious through the way Rin words it that this isn’t wholly his own idea. Rin never speaks more than necessary and relies mostly on fact rather than pathos--their coach definitely put him up to this. Yet, Sae still feels anger flow up from his stomach and threaten to burst from his throat in scathing remarks when really, his brother’s probably the last person he actually wants to yell at. At the media and their shitty headlines though, maybe.

Finished with the scripted spiel, the room descends into stillness once again and leaves Sae to refocus on his phone. He’s scrolled enough at this point that the articles are no longer as recent and therefore no longer as disapproving, now the glowing reviews of his past. They’ve lost some of their focus on the sport though, Sae notices, as he finds another piece from Teen Monthly that proclaims him as “Number One High School Bachelor.” Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Neither the stupid title nor the old articles settle his ire though. Something about the fakeness of it all only builds it.

Suddenly, Rin bursts out. “Nii-san, we all saw that play and we all know what really happened, okay? It was Kaiser’s fault that you lost the ball there, not yours, so ignore those stupid comments online. I know you’ve been looking at them all day.”

That’s much more like his little brother. Just saying things straight without considering the implications or subtleties of it all, seeing things just through his own eyes and completely missing how others might see it for themselves. Sae usually loves that straightforwardness that’s a far cry from the usual two-faced bantering he suffers through from the majority of others, but Rin understands nothing sometimes and it irks him more now. He bites his tongue.

“I don’t even know why you’re dating that guy…”

He’s not anymore apparently, because Kaiser broke up with him a week ago right after the incident. Didn’t even try to be subtle about how much it didn’t hurt him too, like Sae was a toy used and thrown to the side.

“You’ve been different ever since you came back from Spain.” Rin’s voice trails off.

Spain? Seriously? It’s been years since that happened and Sae got over the whole ordeal a month after he returned, so why the hell does Rin have to bring it up now?

Sae knows that’s basically a lie to himself. Really all he did in that month following his return at the beginning of sophomore year was compartmentalize and pretend to forget. But what’s he supposed to do about three years stolen away and used to send him off to some foreign land with foreign people, foreign customs, and a foreign language to please… his parents? Himself? He doesn’t really know anymore why he took that chance. It felt as though there really wasn’t a second choice anyway at the time, like it was between the obvious and eternal damnation. Maybe he was a dramatic thirteen year old.

“Nii-san… I just want to play soccer with you again. Without you, why should I keep playing?”

It’s stupid. What Rin said was undoubtedly completely innocent and without expectation, but a blink and Sae was throwing the covers off and sitting up all at once, a glare set firmly on his face.

“Then fucking quit.”

That’s not what he wanted to say.

The first look of his brother that Sae gets that night is shock and fear bathed in the dark blues of the night. Rin stands completely frozen in the center of the carpet, framed by their various golden soccer awards filling the glass cabinet behind him. In the middle of the third row sits a photo of them in elementary school. Photo Rin holds up a little victory trophy by Sae’s side in wonder like the cheap piece of plastic and marble was equivalent to the world cup. He never said so, but with how much Rin stares at the thing Sae knows it’s his favorite photo. It only makes the current moment hurt more. Or, it should. Because Sae’s just numb. Numb and unfairly angry.

Rin breaks eye contact first and starts to open his mouth to speak up again. Sae cuts in first before he can get a word out.

“Just leave me alone.”

And just like that, all of Sae’s anger dissipates into ice and exhaustion. He flings himself back onto his bed, and Rin stays for a beat longer before walking through the door. He doesn’t even slam it. Sae doesn’t think about what that means, for Rin or for himself. He doesn’t think about anything more, not even the stupid articles on his phone.

Present time.

Reflecting on the previous day’s sticky note, Sae feels a slight humiliation at the fact that the only bullet point he has yet to cross off is the only one that actually affects his grades; namely, the research paper. In the early hours of the morning after being woken up in a fury of unwarranted stress from the realization, he sits at his desk and at least opens a document for the rough draft, transferring some of his outline work and adding a header. That’s as far as he gets before passing out for another five minutes and rushing to school once reawoken. Whatever. Progress is progress.

There’s a meeting for the honors society that Sae’s involved in this morning, so he arrives an hour earlier than usual, running on watered down coffee and spite. It ends up wrapping up in only half that time due to their faculty advisor’s absence, and thus the lack of long winded reminiscence of past times were cut out of the biweekly announcements. Reo, as captain of the society, presented the 20 slide powerpoint with blistering efficiency, leaving Sae with an extra half hour to burn before classes.

Initially, he considers confronting Reo about the situation with Kaiser, but the other had fled from the library where the meeting had taken place soon after stating his closing remarks and half-heartedly answering some questions from the students who actually cared. A tingle of relief finds its way into Sae’s chest--despite the clear urgency of the conversation with Reo, Sae appreciates the excuse to not immediately take Kaiser’s threat lightly and poke the bear.

Then there’s the situation with the photo of Nagi and Isagi. The amount of whispers and gawking eyes that followed Reo out of the room match up with what Sae usually expects from a a change in attitude and the lack of the other’s usual shadow: still plenty and likely much more than necessary (seriously, do these people have absolutely nothing better to do?), but not extreme. If this image became public knowledge, then the murmurs wouldn’t stay below a soft din and instead crescendo into an all consuming roar. Because, face it. Any sane person who’s been exposed to whatever situation is going on between Reo and Nagi would interpret the photo as proof of cheating.

Sae still has that favor with the vending machine he’s got to repay and has an inkling that Reo would not appreciate the photo being leaked without his permission. Probably should leave that issue for once he can interrogate the ones actually involved.

So, plan C then: gather more general info on Isagi Yoichi and anything on Reo’s party over vacation he can find.The best course of action to execute this plan would be asking some bystanders and getting a better idea of the rumors floating around. Though this method can’t assure accuracy of information, hopefully it’ll give him a good idea of the people involved in order to narrow down exactly what Sae needs to focus on. The set up’s simple as well. With a little bit of abuse exercise of his power as student council president, calling whatever poor blokes to his office and fishing for information’s straightforward enough.

Idea set, Sae wanders through the other students still mingling and chatting amongst themselves in the aftermath of the meeting and asks four of them to please meet him during either today’s study block or lunch. He gives each a period of fifteen minutes and stares down at their uncertain expressions with his own cold one to silently demand their cooperation. And just like that, Sae’s secured five interviews and hopefully some new info.

A fairly productive start to the day, Sae assesses, shoving down the remnants of his mental reminders about the paper into a dusty corner of his brain. There’ll be chances to finish that later.

It’s probably not a great indicator of what the quality of Sae’s work (or sanity) will be by the end of the year that he can already feel the classic sickness of Senioritis seeping into his bones, aching like he’s some senior citizen rather than a senior high schooler. First semester hasn’t even finished. The only incentive keeping his grades afloat is the midyear report some of his colleges demand of him; still, his attitude on those changes on a dime from week to week. Why the hell is he putting in this much effort to impress some old ass white institutions again?

The first two periods crawled by like life had been set to slow motion, and the 30 minute study block afforded to students afterwards was a breath of air between sections of drowning. Whatever information gleaned during the lectures has already been razed from Sae’s memory, along with the fight that occurred partway through his second class and the subsequent piling of students out into the hallway to gawk. Something about some loser who thinks slinging racial slurs is the pinnacle of comedy? Honestly, Sae cannot care less. There’s only so much drama that his head can hold and random disputes between sophomores is not included in that. Study block has begun. Sae has to focus up.

There’s definitely a need for some oil on the hinges of the student council office room, but otherwise his temporary home is as welcoming as ever when he enters it with a huff. The blinds broke yesterday after school and can no longer be opened, leaving the small concrete box to be lit only through the single flickering LED bulb above and whatever sunlight manages to sneak its way past the slits across the window. The shitty chairs and unbalanced table though? In perfect (though cheap) condition, so Sae sets his bag down to lean against a metal leg and pulls out his trusty sticky notes and a pen.

To-Do List:
- Meet with Nanase and Kurona during break
- Meet with Otoya and Hiyori during lunch
- Me-

Sae pauses. Bright pink eyes flash through his head, and Sae frowns at the reminder of Shidou’s offer. For the most part, as with many issues he comes across, Sae’s solution is to simply repress the memory entirely to leave until later when he’s forced to confront reality. Though effective in the short term, unfortunately, long term it leaves him with little time to actually consider the issue. Whatever decision--to go or to not--he must make today. And soon, Sae notes, glancing at the cheap plastic clock hanging off a peg in the wall.

Whatever. There’s still maybe a couple of hours of procrastination he can squeeze out. Sae leaves that line unfinished and moves to the next.

- Meet with Bachira after school.
- Finish that damn research paper

Just as he finishes stowing the pen back into his bag and rips the list off the pad to attach to his computer cover, a light series of knocks breaks the room’s silence. He glances up at the sound.

“Come in.”

The door opens, its hinges protesting the movement with a loud whine, and in walks victim number one: Nanase Nijiro.

He was definitely among the easiest to convince to meet up with. Sae’s pretty sure Nanase’s intimidated by him because he agreed before Sae even proposed what he’d be doing. That, or he’s clearly far too kind for this high school, seeing as the majority of the student population is formed of either overly nosy gossips or the overly dramatic bitches that cause the gossip.

“Sae! Hey, how are you?”

Upon his entrance, Nanase smiles so bright that Sae’s reminded of how the room used to look without the blinders blocking out the sun. He squints reflexively. Yes, this one is surely too kind for this place; honestly, the polite knocking rather than the usual barging in on Sae’s space without prompt should have tipped him off.

“I’m fine. Sit.”

Not even Sae’s dry, blunt way of speaking manages to cause that smile to dim below the level of the room’s LED light bulb. Nanase simply gives a “Thanks” as he pulls the other cushioned chair to the opposing side of the table. He sits normally and without much fidgeting, which brings up the image of a certain other uncontrollably energetic person who had previously taken up the same spot. The contrast is truly striking, Sae muses as he straightens and observes his companion.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

Small talk isn’t Sae’s thing, so he immediately asks, “What is your opinion on Isagi Yoichi?”

Ah. So that’s all it takes to lower that smile. Nanase looks away, startled at the question and a hand goes up to scratch lightly at his temple. “Ah, what makes you so interested in Isagi-san?”

Sae narrows his eyes. The other is blushing. He can see those scarlet ears poking out from behind black hair. Are you serious.

God, this Isagi probably has half the school wrapped around his finger at this point. “I’ve just heard his name floating around a lot, so I’m curious. That’s all.”

That is definitely not all, but Sae fears any more pressure on this flustered boy’ll cause him to burst. Also, Sae does not need any rumors of him crushing on Isagi as well floating around after this meeting. He doesn’t think that Nanase is the blabbering type, but “better safe than sorry” is a saying for a reason.

And like a light switch was flipped, the smile instantly rushes back with double the force, happiness and admiration positively radiating off Nanase. The cartoon sparkles and flowers are almost visible as they float through the air, Sae keeping himself from swatting at them as if they were corporeal. This is far too much sweetness for halfway through a school day on Tuesday.

“Well! U-um, senpai is…”

Sae swears he could taste bile at the back of his throat, why does Nanase sound like some irritating shoujo protagonist? He’s got a bad feeling for how the rest of this meeting is going to go, and he watches with horror as Nanase’s blush stretches from the tips of his ears to the tops of his cheeks, bleeding a blotchy red across his face. Sae reigns in the urge to cringe.

“Isagi-senpai is just so super cool!” Nanase bursts out all at once, and like flood gates thrown open, his gushing pours out of him without restraint. “I was scared that all the players at this school would be mean and cold-”

Hey, Sae blandly thinks, eyes slowly glazing over, Was that supposed to be targeted at me?

“-but even though honestly I’m not all that great, especially compared to Isagi-senpai, I mean, he’s just so amazing on the field like he’s able to read the future!! He’s even able to follow Rin-san unlike me… I thought maybe I’d be able to at least follow Isagi-senpai but even that’s hard now! Gosh, like I feel like he might be my idol… and did I mention yet that he’s just the nicest?”

“What’s that you said about Rin?” The words fall from Sae’s mouth without much thought, barely escaping from his rapidly noise-filling brain.

“Hm?” Nanase blinks out of his trance as if he hadn’t even realized Sae was still in the room with him, which honestly, he probably didn’t. “Ah! Yes, it seems he and Rin have some sort of rivalry going on? I’m not too sure… Isagi-senpai doesn’t talk much about it.”

He never told Sae about that. Suspicious. Or perhaps Rin just doesn’t acknowledge Isagi as a rival at all--knowing his bothersome little brother, not very surprising. He hasn’t yet reached the stage of maturity where he’s able to break through his festering superiority complex. Or is it inferiority? Is there really that big of a difference?

Sae’s swallowed up with dull ponderings of similar flavor for the rest of the fifteen minutes, bouncing from complexes to what the cafeteria might have today now that he’s lost fancy food privileges with his retirement, thoughts running in slow circles as he tunes out Nanase (“And, and, yesterday! I fell over during practice and he stopped his drills to come over and ask if I was okay! I felt like my heart was going to pound out of my chest, have you ever seen Isagi-senpai at sunset? Man, the colors really compliment his blue eyes- um! I mean… Isagi-senpai’s just so nice, you know?”).

The allotted time finishes just as Sae turns to why goldfish look like their brains have been inverted, and Nanase stumbles out of the office with everything above his shoulders positively burning. Sae dismisses him with a vague grunt, letting his head hit the table with a clang once the door closes. The others better not be like this. He’s not a confessional.

At least Kurona’s quieter, Sae groans. Another fifteen minutes and another zero percent new knowledge gained.

Being of the opposite type to Nanase where Sae could have been a brick wall and the conversation would have still played out similarly, now he spoke for the majority of the time and the other responded in his signature short and repetitive manner. However, it’s too far into the other direction. When most of his inquiries received less than double-digit word count answers, there isn’t much he can glean other than how much Kurona admires Isagi as seemingly the entire population does. Sae doesn’t even bother to lift his head from the cool metal by the end--Kurona’s definitely not the type to tell anyway, so he indulges.

The redhead nods once as the bell signaling the end of break rings, gently stepping away with a “Don’t mind, don’t mind” to leave Sae to his suffering. Another groan spills out, and he turns his head to press his face into the table to stare at pure black and pretend he’s anywhere but here. Sae’s not looking forward to lunch, though the undoubtedly borderline inedible meal he’ll receive is the least of his worries.

The first thing Sae does once he returns to the office after obtaining his salad topped with likely an exorbitant amount of hot sauce (any blandness and disappointment can be remedied with overwhelming spice) is push open the window to its propped open position. Having the whole place stink like sriracha doesn’t appeal much to him.

There’s maybe only about five minutes before his descent back to hell, also known as his meeting with Otoya Eita, self proclaimed token straight, though Sae doesn’t buy that. No one goes to this school without some amount of rainbow either trailing in after them, or infecting them once they assimilate anyway. The straightest person to be found might only be comparable to a twig: attempting to be so, yet interrupted by bumps and gnarls that bend it nevertheless.

He’s worse than Karasu by some yards and worse than Bachira by miles. Originally, Sae had planned to talk with Yukimiya who likely would have proved to be much more agreeable, what with his experience with interviews from his model career, but somehow Otoya had caught on to his plans before he could ask.

It went something like this: As he was about three feet away from reaching Yukimiya and securing the interview, Otoya popped in from behind a shelf to his left, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Without hesitation, Sae then attempted to swerve away from the other the second he recognized the presence, but was soon thwarted by Otoya’s iron grip around his wrist to drag Sae into the lanes of books. Sae looked glumly at Yukimiya’s retreating back as he was pulled away, already knowing it would be near impossible to escape now. At least not without putting up with Otoya’s whining for at least the next week.

“Looking for drama?” He asked, clearly not actually waiting for an answer. Otoya decides for himself when people deserve to listen to him, whether they’re consenting or otherwise.

Sae responded regardless. “More like a place to nap. An escape route wouldn’t be disagreeable either, though.”

Otoya barreled on, Sae’s words in one ear and out the other. “Hey, heard you were looking for some gossip on our new superstar?” How he gained that information Sae didn’t understand nor did he wish to, considering he’d only been gathering sources for the past couple of minutes.

Resigned to his fate, Sae shook his arm roughly to dislodge the other’s hand and glared. “Fine. You don’t have to say more, I already know what you want. Come at the beginning at lunch.”

And so now here he is, bracing himself for the inevitable. He shoves some more pieces of lettuce and “croutons” (actually just yesterday’s leftover pizza cut into squares and rebaked) into his mouth as a distraction, and manages to finish off a bit over half his meal before the office door slams open with a bang.

“You’d never be able to guess what happened at lunch today after you left!”

Sae can probably deduce the general concept, but he opts to pretend Otoya hasn’t entered in the first place, slowly chewing on another mouthful of salad. It’s an effort, though an unfortunately likely futile one.

Otoya drops himself into a chair with a dramatic flair comparable to Aryu, and slams his hand on the table, leaning closer to Sae’s indifferent figure. “So, to set the stage-”

Total ignorance failed, unsurprisingly. Speeding up the pain as much as possible it is, then. “I don’t care about the setting. Get to the point Otoya,” Sae says, putting his fork down and staring him down.

“You’re no fun,” Otoya pouts, but mercifully chooses to follow the order.

“Basically: Kaiser gets up in front of the whole school.” He’s making stupid motions with his arms and hands to vaguely act out the moment. “He’s got a cocktail in hand, no one knows how he got it but whatever, it’s not that important. Ness is with him like he always is, and Kaiser says something or other to him before flinging the drink in Ness’s face, totally unprovoked. Or perhaps…?”

Sounds irrelevant. Sae returns to mechanically bringing his overpriced spicy lettuce to his mouth. “Does it matter? Those two argue every other day, this isn’t anything new.”

“No no no, it’s sooo much more than that.” Otoya looks at him with pity as if Sae’s lack of perfect knowledge of every piece of every possible relationship story in the school is something deserving of condolences.

“You want the drama right? Well, you’ve come to the right person!”
“I didn’t even ask you for your input. In fact I recall even attempting to avoid it?”

“Pshhh as if you’d get anything out of Yukki. He’s way too good to be dragging out the dirt in other’s lives. I, on the other hand, have no such reservations!”

Clearly. Though that isn’t a trait to brag about.

Otoya leans back in his chair and Sae takes a breath at the added distance between them. “I’ve been hearing talk that it’s more than Kainess’s usual issues.”

He says “issues” with a flair that’s far too gleeful for Sae’s taste. Also, “Kainess”? Really? He clearly reads the mediocre fanfic that Sae knows some sect of the student body spends far too much effort creating. Definitely no way he’s straight.

“Apparently Ness and our little superstar were caught together during Reo’s party~. Kaiser’s clearly not all that happy about that considering he declared popularity war at the end of that night.”

“Popularity war?” Sae hisses. How shallow can that man get?

A sharp smirk peels across Otoya’s face. Damn it. Shouldn’t have said that.

“Seems Kaiser sees Isagi as more of a threat than expected…” Otoya sings.

Sae feels thankful that the last person he’s to see is Hiyori Yo of all people, arguably the nicest person in the school, on par with Nanase. The difference between the two is Nanase’s genuinely that naive and bubbly and Hiyori is hiding his boiling hatred for the world under his veneer of kindness. Luckily for Sae, his underlying cold nature makes him much less hyperactive. Otoya’s rambling has sapped the last of his patience for empty conversation.

Hiyori enters the room quietly after a series of knocks and takes a seat without fanfare. “Hello Itoshi-san. What is it you wanted to ask me?”

“Hiyori. What’s your opinion on Isagi?”

Hiyori doesn’t even flinch. “He’s talented. And a good person. Is that all you needed?”

“Just a bit more, actually. Do you have any information on what might be going on with him and the party?”

Counter to what one might expect from the soft voiced blueberry-head, Hiyori’s got a finger on the pulse of the school’s rumor mill. He’s friends with Karasu, so it would be impossible that he’d be completely in the dark. However, Hiyori’s knowledge goes beyond secondhand mutterings. Sae’s not positive that all of it was gathered willingly, but something about him makes it easy for others to confide in. Thus, he’s the real queen of gossip.

“There’s a lot that’s been going on that relates to Isagi, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“For now, let’s start with Reo, Nagi, and Isagi. What happened between them during the party?”

“To be honest, there isn’t a lot that I know,” Hiyori replies and brings a hand to his chin contemplatively. “I’m not that close to either of them. Reo’s tight-lipped and Nagi barely speaks at all anyway, so gaining any information from those two is essentially impossible. But I know a bit.”

“Go on.”

“I’m not sure if this is news, but to be honest, Reo and Nagi’s relationship has been deteriorating recently. Not as in they’ve become hostile towards one another, at least, not until now, but rather that they didn’t seem to click as well as before.”

Sae nods and motions with his hand to continue.

“You know how Nagi and Reo only started playing soccer this summer season? Well, that’s because Reo dragged Nagi into soccer after gaining an interest in it himself. Back then, Nagi was essentially unknown in the school. I don’t think he had any friends before Reo.”

Hiyori’s eyes fill with some pity at the statement. “So obviously the two were joined at the hip. Nagi didn’t really know anyone else and Reo was the first person to be nice to him. For Reo, all that attention and maybe some of the inattention--the fact that Nagi didn’t care all that much for his popularity and background--made him almost obsess over Nagi. We’ve all heard the infamous ‘treasure’ metaphor.”

Hiyori sets his arm back onto the table, face taking on a more serious disposition. “That changed because of Isagi. Well, mostly Isagi, but technically it was the entire soccer team in some capacity. Going from a total loner to surrounded by comrades and a nobody to a star does things to a person. In Nagi’s case, that’s apparently awakening his competitiveness. Remember how Ego-san made it so there’s those weird practices during the off season? The ones that are built like a game show where the punishment is getting kicked off the team?”

It’s a rhetorical question, and Sae remains still waiting for Hiyori to move on.

“The first one that Nagi participated in after the summer season was the round robin. He and Reo were defeated by Isagi and his friends. He developed an interest in Isagi I suppose, because in the second stage of the practice he joined Isagi’s team and left Reo behind.”

“So the interaction between Isagi and Nagi during the party wasn’t anything new.”

“No, in fact it probably confirmed Reo’s fears,” Hiyori nods. “Nagi’s not great at communicating or really catching social cues in general, so his lack of action exacerbated the issue. But Reo’s insanely loyal, I don’t think he’d just completely drop Nagi even if he saw the other literally kiss someone else.”

“You think there’s more to the situation?”

A long-suffering smile adorns Hiyori’s face at Sae’s proposition. “Isn’t there always?”

The bell that signals the end of the lunch period rings not a second too early, and Hiyori gathers his belongings, heading for the door with a respectful nod in Sae’s direction. Sae stands in response before calling out.

“Oh and, about Karasu.”

Hiyori’s pace stutters but he doesn’t turn. “What about him?” He says carefully, revealing nothing.

“I don’t think he was joking when he asked you out.”

No reaction. Not even a twitch. Well, it’s to be expected when talking about such a volatile subject.

“I… see. Thank you for the advice. And good luck with the Isagi situation.”

With that, Hiyori exits.

Chapter Text

Sae wants to blame the fact that he’s halfway up the stairs to the roof on how boring biology class is. No, he’s not here because he wants to meet up with that blond roach, but rather because he needs a distraction from shoving banal info about stem cells into his mind. That’s all there is to it.

But a step before the door and with a hand reaching out towards the handle, Sae realizes that the reason doesn’t matter in the face of the results--and thus willingly subjecting himself to Shidou’s presence. Whatever the other wants to show him, he sure hopes it’ll be more interesting than a webquest.

Just like the previous time, the door creaks open to reveal Shidou framed by the opening as he leans against the railing. He doesn’t react immediately to Sae’s presence, and despite the fact that Sae can’t see the blonde’s face, he can sense a sort of contemplative melancholy coming off the other. It surprises him. Of all the people to feel melancholic, he’d think Shidou’d scrape the bottom of the list.

No time for more pondering though, because Shidou turns and whatever expression he’d been wearing melts off his face in favor of a too bright grin that toes the line of feral. “Sae-chan! You came!”

Sae sighs and closes the door behind him, resigning himself to his fate. He can’t exactly back out now. “Unfortunately.”

Shidou lets out a giggle and bounds across the roof to stand in front of Sae. He’s clearly dressed up for the occasion: a black cropped tank top with an obnoxious graphic emblazoned across the front thrown over a fishnet shirt, paired with bright pink jeans and black lace up boots. He’s wearing almost enough silver to cosplay a disco ball too, from his myriad of piercings to his collection of rings.

Sae glances down at his own outfit. A dress shirt layered with a sweater and some slacks. All in a soft cream and brown. What a picture they make.

“You better have something worthwhile planned, demon.” Sae says, the nickname slipping out without his intention. Where’d that even come from?

Shidou doesn’t comment on it, thankfully, and he throws an arm around Sae’s shoulder, which he immediately steps out of, dusting off his sweater where Shidou had made contact. “Of course not! Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

The other reels back with a mock gasp and a hand thrown across his heart. “Sae-chan you wound me! And I thought we were friends…”

The difference between the other’s demeanor last time, where he spoke with piercing eyes and slow sincerity, in comparison to the playful teasing Sae faces now is stark. He wonders which of the two is closer to the real Shidou, or if they’re equally as real. Sae’s not sure if he’d prefer one over the other. Both of them have their downsides anyway. “This is the second time I’ve ever talked to you.”

Shidou waves away Sae’s interjection. “Semantics. Now let’s go!”

Before Sae can react, Shidou grabs his hand in his own with a vice-tight grip and drags him towards the door. Sae’s eyes fly open, letting out a reactionary “Let go-”. Yet, he finds himself not quite tugging as hard as possible to escape.

Shidou’s boisterous laughter paves the way from the roof to the senior parking lot across the street, and Sae tells himself that, like the choice to come to the meeting in the first place, this one isn’t his fault either.

Shidou parks his car (a swamp green Subaru Outback) in front of a large concrete building painted in all black and adorned with a glowing sign that reads “XTREME” in dramatic impact font.

Sae turns to look at Shidou from the passenger seat. “What the fuck is this.”

The other looks far too pleased with himself as he pulls the keys out of ignition and places his hand on the door. “You’ll see~” he sings.

Sae does not think he wants to see. “Is this a club or something?”

That earns him a soured face. “Club? What’s fun about that?”

“Alcohol? Sex?”

Shidou lets out a huff of air. “I don’t need people to be drunk to get them in bed with me, Sae-chan.” He looks at Sae with a jokingly leering gaze at that. At least, Sae hopes he’s joking.

“I’d need to be much more out of my mind than just drunk to get anywhere near your bedroom.” Sae finishes the conversation after that by pushing open the passenger side door and stepping out. He hears a slam on the other side of the car that indicates Shidou did the same before the blonde reappears at the back of the vehicle. The car lets out a series of beeps

“Aw, come on Sae-chan! I know you like what you see~”

“You’re delusional. Let’s get this over with.”

Turns out, as Shidou had said, the building is indeed not a club but rather-

“Laser tag? You’re joking, right? What are you, five?”

Shidou pouts. The lobby is lit dimly, with walls painted to look like a sidewalk covered in chalk doodles. There’s a light projector propped up on the reception desk that adds some dancing red and green dots to the decor, all of the tacky choices topped off with a mist machine and ear-splitting EDM. “Hey, laser tag’s fun!”

Sure it is, Sae drawls internally as he imagines running around a playground two sizes too small for him with a hoard of elementary schoolers screeching and yelling their heads off around him. “Sure it is,” he repeats, this time out loud, watching Shidou’s pout deepen theatrically.

The receptionist looks up from her phone when the two approach, clearly around the same age as they are and completely over her job based on her pair of kohl black eye bags. Sae feels a slight pity at her predicament. Shidou obviously does not concur because he smiles wide and animatedly asks her for two tickets for the next half hour round. Her response is one of disgust at Shidou’s energy, which Sae relates to.

She punches in the info and finishes up the transaction as fast as possible, popping an absurdly large gum bubble in the process, telling the two that the next round begins in around five minutes, so they should head down the hall where the door to the arena is held. With a “Thanks~” and a skip in his step, Shidou grabs Sae’s hand once again and leads him to his hell of lasers and prepubescent kids. Sae doesn’t resist, already catching on to the fact that it’s impossible to stop Shidou once he’s set his mind on something. Either escape beforehand or weather the storm. Unfortunately, Sae hadn’t been prudent enough to follow that first piece of advice.

The door they stopped at is marked with a large number “13” and shares the same chalk-like drawings that the lobby walls had. Even with the insulation, Sae can already hear the high pitched screeches of children in the room beyond. He steels himself.

Shidou pushes the door open and releases what Sae’d like to describe as screams echoing from the depths of hell. Essentially: the hyperactive cries of a dozen toddlers. Fighting the instinct to slap his hands over his ears to find some peace, Sae follows Shidou into the room. It’s much smaller and much darker than the lobby, walls painted all black, with the only interruption of the void being another door across from the entrance and the glowing red exit sign that hangs above it. There’s benches lining the room (currently filled with children) and a rack of vests in the farthest corner. The whole place is lit with some sort of special light that causes neon colors to glow. Case in point: Shidou’s hot pink hair highlights and irises. When the other sets his gaze on Sae, the added brightness stirs something in Sae’s stomach.

Why is he kinda pretty like this? Those eyes are…

Wait. What? Disgust floods Sae’s system and flushes all remaining admiration, or whatever those emotions were, out of him. A single person decides to pay him the slightest bit attention beyond the usual vapid praise and he’s already bending this fast? Sae hears a voice pondering if it's because of Shidou’s propensity for ignoring all walls or signs to stop, but quickly smothers that one as well. It’s probably just because he’s not dating anyone anymore that he’s searching so desperately for signs that aren’t there and has nothing to do with the other in particular.

“Hello? Sae-channnnn, you listening?”

Sae’s thrown out of his panic thoughts when Shidou taps his shoulder twice to get his attention. He refocuses on the other’s curious face and suppresses a shiver. The lighting really does make that gaze as piercing as a bullet. “What,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady and free of any indication of his previous predicament.

“The person who’s supposed to administer the game just walked in. Honestly, I think it’s more fun without the safety rules (I mean, no running? Only speed walking? Be serious.), but if you care, you’re gonna miss them!”

Sae scans the room and notes that, yes, there’s an employee wearing a bright green shirt and black slacks that has joined them and the hellspawn. He has plastered on his face the fakest excited smile one could possibly imagine as he explains the rules of the game and hands out equipment. Sae tunes the majority of what he says out. As Shidou suggested, if he’s going to be stuck playing this children’s game for the next half hour, he’s not about to be reigned in by some rules made for said children.

Wait a moment. Sae narrows his eyes and glances across the room again. Is that-?

“Well what do we have here? The Itoshi Sae mingling with the commoners?” fucking Oliver Aiku drawls. Sae glares so hard that his gaze is sure to burn a hole straight through the other’s forehead. As if some higher power saw that the situation couldn’t get any worse and thought it humorous to make it worse despite that, now Sae has to face this loser again. His first boyfriend. And first ex.

God, he had horrible taste as a sophomore. Why was he attracted to this grimy, half-shaven asshole again? Though, considering the fact that his last date was Kaiser, perhaps his taste hasn’t improved by much.

“Fuck off. I don’t need to justify shit to you.”

Shidou’s bright expression melts off his face immediately in response to Sae’s bristling. He shifts to stand slightly ahead of Sae and gives Aiku a once over, eyes frigid. “Who’s this, Sae-chan?”

Sae doesn’t take his eyes off Aiku as he responds. “Oliver Aiku. Goes to a different school from us. Defender.”

“Aw, leaving out the most interesting part, Sae?” Aiku turns to Shidou and surveys him. “Who’s this, your new boy toy? Got tired of Kaiser already?”

“Shut the hell up Aiku. Why do you even know about Kaiser anyway?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Ah well, you know. You’re a big celebrity after all, aren’t you, ‘National Treasure’? It isn’t hard to dig up info on what’s going on in your life. Ego makes it all the more easy by broadcasting half the school day.”

That stupid title again. Sae grits his teeth and chooses silence, refusing to let Aiku get under his skin. Shidou steps even closer and Sae finds himself half hidden behind his larger frame. He takes the chance to break eye contact with Aiku and studies the back of Shidou’s neck instead. A tendon pulses there subtly revealing just how on guard Shidou is.

Fuck it, he thinks. Sae moves himself to fully stand behind Shidou and presses his forehead to firm shoulder blades. The muscles there tense in surprise slightly before relaxing again. Sae steps closer, scant few inches away from plastering his body against the other. It’s warm. Shidou runs hot like a furnace.

If Aiku wants to make assumptions, let him.

Make assumptions he does apparently, because Aiku lets out a low whistle at the display. “So he’s the next one, huh?”

Sae can feel Shidou react to the condescending tone in Aiku’s voice through his back. It’s coiled, ready for a fight, and he whips out a hand to grab at Shidou’s wrist. “Don’t. He’s not worth it. And you’re my pillow right now, okay demon? Good pillows don’t move.” Shidou stops his advance immediately as Sae's voice mumbles between his shoulders. The hand Sae half grabbed slips up slightly to intertwine the two together, and like last time, Sae doesn’t pull away.

“Aw, look at you two all cuddled up~! Must be a match made in heaven.” Aiku pauses, thinking. “Or hell, perhaps?”

“Aiku, who are these people?” A new voice breaks the brewing tension: A blonde approaches the group with a laser tag vest on and a second hanging off his arm. Sendou. The star striker on Aiku’s team. In Sae’s very professional opinion, if one were to gather all the traits of an average, middling striker and mix it together, Sendou’d be the result.

In other words, he’s shit.

Sendou stands by Aiku’s side, passing him the other vest. He observes Sae and Shidou curiously without malicious intent, but still with the haughty energy of a bitch who thinks he’s all that because of a couple fluke goals. Sae’s never met him in any situation other than on the field, but he knows they’re not going to get along great.

“Ah, Sendou. This is Itoshi Sae, remember?” He stares straight at Shidou before adding, “My ex boyfriend.”

And like an afterthought: “Oh and his tag-along cockroach I suppose. What are those antennas supposed to be anyway?”

Shidou, on his part, stays true to Sae’s command and remains still in the face of the provocation, but that doesn’t limit what comes out of his mouth. “Hey, at least call the slut strands what they are! Maybe you should try them too, since apparently all you’ve bagged is some washed up dirty blond fish-lips after Sae dumped you. Might help you out~” Sae can’t see much from his position pressed against Shidou’s back, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Shidou’s sticking his tongue out at the pair in taunt.

“Excuse me?” Sendou asks, face souring and immediately revealing his actual shallow personality. “I don’t even like guys.”

There’s a pause.

“Uh huh. Sure you don’t. So those dick-sucking lips are just for show, that it?” Shidou drawls.

“Sendou-” Aiku starts simultaneously.

“What? It’s true though!”

“Um, sirs?” The group turns to face the employee (sans Sae, who’s continuing to enjoy his pillow) that’s approaching them. “The round is about to start. Please put on your vests and head to the backdoor.”

Shidou glares at Aiku who throws his hands up in mock surrender. “We’ll finish this during the game.”

He smirks in response. “Sure. See you then.” With that, the pair leaves them to join the rest of the crowd.

There’s a slight lull as silence fills the space that Aiku and Sendou previously occupied. Then-

“Sae-chan?”

“Mmph.”

Shidou first spins around so that he’s standing chest to chest with Sae. Then, using his unoccupied hand, he brings the other closer again and repositions Sae’s head so that he’s now lying in the crook of Shidou’s neck. “You good?”

“Why’d you get so mad at Aiku anyway?” Sae murmurs, shifting in his new spot.

Shidou responds with a confused noise, not unlike a dog’s. Or, more like a hyena in his case. “Huh? What kind of question is that? He was making you uncomfortable, wasn’t he?”

Sae barely holds himself back from jolting in surprise, reducing his reaction to just a twitch of the fingers. Hah. Shidou really is far more observant than what Sae would think he’d like. But somehow, the lack of need to put his feelings into words--that’s something he doesn’t mind.

Something about Shidou’s energy and bluntness that he doesn’t mind.

There’s a weird urge bubbling up from his stomach to nuzzle into Shidou’s neck further, so Sae knows it’s time to cut this interaction short before he starts truly losing it. “Let’s go then. We’ll crush them, demon.” With that, Sae finally lets go of Shidou’s hand and pulls away to slip two vests from off the rack. He gets a striking cackle in response.

“Make me come at them, genius!”

The next room they’re led into is significantly larger than both the lobby and prep room. It’s the size of a gym, but instead of being filled with bleachers and a wood court, it’s set up more like a parkour course. Foam structures, from single rectangles of cover to full playground sets spread across every inch of the space. It’s just as dark as the prep room if not darker, the ideal lighting for a laser fight.

Another employee is waiting for them in the room and explains the basics of the game. The vest they wear is the target. Hitting the glowing circle in the center of the front or back counts as a point. After being hit, there’s a ten second period of invincibility, indicated by the target flashing, before the target can be hit again for another point. Whoever gets the most points by the end of the game gets a special prize. Fairly simple. During the explanation, employee #1 from the previous room hands out laser guns and directs people to enter their name into it in order to keep track of points.

Sae catches Aiku’s stare from a couple of feet away in the crowd. He doesn’t glare or startle, simply keeping his expression cold. Aiku smiles before mouthing, “Race for the most amount of points?” Sae doesn’t nod in response, but Aiku gets that Sae agreed to the bet without any obvious indication. Pleased, he turns away to focus back on sharing the news with Sendou.

Sae shares the information with his own partner by elbowing Shidou in the ribs and grabbing his neck to force him to bend. In the other’s ear, Sae says, “We’re beating them in points, demon.”

Based on how red Shidou’s turned, Sae assumes he got the message. Cute.

“Alright then, that’s just about all I have to tell you guys! There’ll be a two minute period where the guns won’t shoot so that you all can spread out and explore. Good luck and have fun!” employee #2 interrupts.

The moment that the employee finishes his speech, a loud buzzer sounds and a robotic voice announces the beginning of the round. Shidou immediately runs off into the forest of foam followed by a majority of the participants, Aiku and Sendou included. Sae stays behind for a moment and scans the area, noting which directions people have moved towards. So far, it seems the main fort in the center of the room has dragged in the most.

Unlike with soccer, it’s impossible to grasp all the locations of the participants with just a glance, but he can generalize. He separates the area into five parts: the four corners and the main structure in the center, then orders them by number of people in order to maximize points. Unsurprisingly, the center contains the most participants, but that also means higher competition for points. Better avoid the area until people spread out further. Thus, they’ll start in the closest corner to the right of the start area (the majority of the population is right handed and thus have a bias towards the right when faced with a decision between the two directions). Sae’ll spend the beginning time surveying the geography of the area. Somewhere with much foot traffic in and out of the center would be optimal.

Scanning the field, Sae notices Shidou’s bright blonde hair glowing in the dark lighting as it whips from location to location wildly. He’s probably also gathering info.

“Demon,” Sae calls out once he gets close, Shidou on top of a stack of foam blocks. The other looks to Sae and grins before jumping down to join him.

“Sae-chan! Got a plan?”

“Of course. And you? What have you learned during your wild exploration?”

Shidou shrugs. “Lots of foam.”

“And? Any kind of funneling structure?”

“Probably! I think I saw a tunnel somewhere? Dunno, it’s all muscle memory by now!”

Sae sighs. He should have known that Shidou wouldn’t be much help for this. He’s always performed when needed and Sae has no doubts he’ll do so again today, but he runs on instinct. That’s how he’s able to create “miracles.” Asking him to put “how” into words is a fruitless endeavor.

“That’s enough. I won’t pester you for more information. Just make sure you don’t go too far from the right corner. I still need to be able to see you, after all.”

“You got it, genius!” With that, Shidou leaps back into the field, bouncing up the foam structures easily. Sae sets out towards the center structure. Though he doesn’t plan to stay there once the game actually starts, the foam tower provides the best vantage point for observing the area.

The tunnel that Shidou mentioned is indeed real, and in the top right corner. A maze in the top left. A range of high and low ground in the bottom right . And moving obstacles in the bottom left. That one will likely have the least amount of players, scared off by the possibility of being hit. The maze won’t be popular either due to its restricting nature. That leaves the right side and center. With a satisfactory amount of info, Sae returns to the original corner and takes his place atop a foam hill of medium height. He spots Shidou around 20 feet to his left perched on a taller lookout. No sign of Aiku or Sendou.

Right on time, an even louder buzzer rings through the room and the voice returns to announce the actual beginning of the game. Jaunty music swells through cheap loud speakers as Sae’s equipment whirs and lights up to indicate it’s now functioning. Sae tenses himself and presses deeper against the foam in order to hide the majority of the light emanating from his vest. He readies the gun in front of himself and waits.

It doesn’t take long before he spots a pair of boys, likely in middle school or younger, who stumble giggling into his line of sight. The gun lets out a fake laser sound effect as it fires twice in quick succession, dings ringing out quickly afterwards to indicate a hit. Sae doesn’t stick around to watch his victims startle and cry out about the surprise attack, instead immediately slipping down from his lookout to head to a different spot while keeping an eye out for others.

Like this, Sae bounces from one foam hill to another, mercilessly taking out children with accuracy and speed. He racks up points quickly, reaching 15 in less than five minutes. It begins to slow at that point as opponents realize Sae’s corner holds little possibility of success, leading to a dwindling population of prey. So, instead of scanning for more players, he finds himself watching Shidou from atop another foam structure. It doesn’t take more than a couple of seconds: even from a distance, the bright glow of his pink highlights make him stand out against the dark environment.

Shidou throws all of himself into the children’s game, unsurprisingly. His cackles echo through the air, cutting through the loud pop music emanating from the speakers. His movements are just as fluid weaving through obstacles as they are dodging defenders on the pitch, barely even pausing to shoot before sweeping away, constantly in motion. It’s almost acrobatic.

Perhaps Sae should feel bad for the kids that, based on the scrambling at the sight of his demon’s approach, seem to be getting traumatized by Shidou’s intensity, yet he finds a curl of satisfaction and pride in his chest at the sight of Shidou absolutely dominating this stupid game. He can’t help himself but imagine that flexibility and skill under his thumb in a different situation, one where the wind blows through hair and sun beats down on emerald grass.

Suddenly, Sae’s breathing fresh air rather than the sweat-saturated heat of this black box, a soccer ball dancing by his feet replacing his plastic gun. He races across the 100 yard field, feeling adrenaline rush through his blood. 30 feet until his cleats cross the white line of the penalty area. 20. Shidou keeps pace with him--despite his erratic and seemingly unpredictable aim, something tugs between the two, like a piece of twine attaching Sae to Shidou spanning from one chest to the other. No thoughts fill his head: just a flash of fuschia, a swish of his left leg sending the ball to a corner of the box, and “impossible” is shattered once more as Shidou delivers the pass perfectly into the goal with his signature drive shot.

The imaginary cheering of the crowd snaps Sae out of the daydream. Stupid. What am I even thinking?

Another one of these senseless fantasies. It seems even miles from a pitch, not even the sky in sight, Sae still cannot manage to break from what shackles him to soccer. This dream version he’s imagining--reality will never measure up to it again. Sae’s learned that lesson deeply. It’s never been the simple game he used to think it was as a young child, where nothing mattered other than the flame of joy that flared each time the goal net “swished” in response to Sae’s play.

BANG.

Sae jolts as his entire vest vibrates and begins to flash. A hit?! He flings himself around to spot Aiku slipping behind a foam wall. Asshole.

Gripping his gun tight, Sae leaps off his vantage point and sprints after the taller one to catch him as he speeds down an alleyway. He readies his weapon and-

BANG.

A ding. A hit.

“Aw Sae, couldn’t you have just let this one go?” Aiku slows to a stop once he notices his own vest buzzing and flashing, gun going slack and twisting his neck to study Sae. Sae approaches slowly with his own held up to his face, ready to shoot again the moment the invincibility timer runs out.

“You don’t deserve that and you know it.”

Aiku chuckles and shrugs. “Not even some residual boyfriend privileges?”

Is he serious? Sae narrows his eyes and tightens his pointer finger over the trigger.“That’s not a thing. And you shot first. I’m only taking my rightful revenge.”

“Okay, okay, let’s all calm down now. Our reunion started off on the wrong foot, but can you really blame me for being a little prickly when I see my ex with someone new?”

“Yes.” Why must all these people around Sae ask these questions expecting a favorable answer? “There’s no reason for me to tailor my activities to your comfort, thus whatever feelings of irritation you experience are wholly your fault.

“I’m not dating Shidou anyway,” Sae adds offhandedly after a beat.

“Touche, can’t argue with your judgment there.” Yet, despite the accepted defeat, Aiku’s eyes still gleam. Sae hisses internally. Shouldn’t have mentioned that last thing. That look--it reminds him too much of Kaiser, though compared to that blonde menace, Aiku might as well be a harmless rabbit.

“But are you sure about that? With the way you act around each other, that’s debatable.”

“He’s like a leech. Latches onto whatever catches his interest. It’s not special.”

“Not you though.” Aiku is refusing to mind his own business. Sae can already feel the threads of his patience fray with each word that leaves the other’s mouth.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve only seen like, what? A single person ever touch you without being immediately thrown off?” Aiku continues, tapping his chin with a finger in a taunting manner and peering over at Sae from the corner of his eye. A smirk curls the edge of his lips. “And that was your brother. Now this random guy suddenly appears and you’ve started plastering yourself against him without a flinch.”

Sae slips his lower lip between his teeth and bites roughly. He could defend himself by revealing that the earlier moment stemmed from just some simple pettiness, but that means revealing that it stemmed from pettiness. Essentially, Sae’d likely rather die, so he keeps silent.

“Why’re you denying it? The Sae I know doesn’t give a shit about what other people think.”

A glare. “Stop acting like we’re close, it’s been nearly three years. I’m not denying anything. I’ve only known him for two days anyway.”

“Only two days? That makes it all the more suspect, you know. You’re already so close despite so little time.”

Sae knows that, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He knows he hasn’t exactly been acting like he usually does for strangers with Shidou. A single conversation managed to convince Sae to return for a second when it absolutely should have done the opposite. A couple of exchanges and a nickname springs from him like it's second nature. A nickname. Not an insult.

No matter how much he tries to convince himself their proximity is because avoiding would be futile, he’s aware of his strange softness that lets Shidou get away with much more than Sae should be allowing. He’s never leaned up against someone new within the first 48 hours of acquaintance in pettiness fueled revenge either (though the pettiness is admittedly much more common). Hell, that’d be out of character even if the two were dating, seeing as Sae rarely pulled something similar with Aiku or Kaiser. Initiating contact has never been Sae’s style.

Until now, supposedly.

“I can tell through your facial expression that I’m right on the money, huh?”

Nosy piece of shit. Sae’s glare intensifies. “It’s none of your business.”

“Hey, I just want to help you out! Honest-”

His knuckles turn white with the force he grips the laser gun with.

BANG.

“Jeez, no need to be so defensive-!”

BANG.

“Wha- Okay, I get it! That’s really unnecessary, not like you can even get another point so fast-”

BANG.

“I’m leaving! I’m leaving, god.” Aiku hurries away grumbling soon after that. Sae lowers his gun and turns on his heel with a huff. Time to find his little demon and shut those two up for good. Or, at least for more than just a couple of minutes.

He finds the other sitting on a foam block swinging his feet and humming, looking over the screen on his gun with a grin.

“Hello demon. All tuckered out? I would’ve thought you’d still be running about chasing down points.”

Shidou spins immediately upon hearing Sae’s voice and his entire figure lights up. “Sae-chan!” He slips down from on top of the foam and bounces to Sae’s side. “I’ve been waiting for you. Seems I might have scared off the last of the other opponents in this area, whoopsie! So I’ve been waiting for you!”

Ah. That’s right, Sae did ask Shidou to stay in this corner and within Sae’s line of sight. His obedience and smile as he looks to Sae now for approval-

Just like a dog… Sae can imagine the perked ears and wagging tail already. He suppresses the insane urge to pet Shidou’s blonde hair.

“Don’t act like you did something amazing already, the round’s just barely passed the halfway point. We still need to beat out Aiku and Sendou. How many points have you gained?”

“42!” That’s almost double Sae’s own 24. Impressive, considering they haven’t moved much from their original sector.

“We’re moving on to the center section now. Don’t slack off now.”

“Sure! And if I end up with 100 points, I get your number, ‘kay?”

“I’ll consider it if you actually manage to.” Sae says absentmindedly. Seconds later, he cringes at the thought of what he just agreed to. There he goes again, being too soft on Shidou. Too late to take back what he said now though, considering Shidou immediately shoots him a blinding smile and a, “I’ll hold you to it!” He’ll just have to pray that Shidou doesn’t manage to reach the goal after all.

He’s going to have to pick up the slack if he’s hoping Shidou doesn’t get too many more points. Sae’s not naive enough to underestimate the skills of Aiku at least. Sendou, though? He…

…

Basically the goal is to beat whatever score Aiku can scrape together. And if there’s one person in the world that could be better at Shidou in crushing the joy of small children, it’s the self proclaimed “cop” of soccer. He’s too good at keeping anyone from getting away from him, opposing soccer players or three-feet-tall elementary schoolers otherwise unimportant. Still, Sae’s fairly confident that the two of them together would be able to surpass Aiku, but nothing wrong with straying to the safer side.

Appeased with Sae’s agreement to his bet, Shidou has already rushed towards the center during Sae’s rumination. By the time Sae returns his focus on the game, Shidou’s become a flash of hot pink weaving through the foam field. Sae follows behind soon after, taking a slower and more methodical method, pausing after every few foam blocks to survey the area and snipe off whatever stragglers he can spot along the way.

He reaches the base of the central structure in that manner. Sendou stands on the top floor pompously watching over the goings-on of the “commoners,” occasionally shooting a couple of random shots into the crowd.

…

He hasn’t hit anyone, huh?

A sudden weight slams into Sae’s left side and he lets out a soft gasp from the force of it before turning to the newcomer. Unsurprisingly, he finds a giggling Shidou there. “Sae-chan, I’m already halfway there! You better stick to your word!”

“Don’t remind me,” Sae mutters, shoving Shidou off. “If you really want it then you better stop bothering me and get those points,” he says a touch louder.

Shidou performs a silly salute in response and bounces away to fulfill his goal. Cackles and screeches follow him out as he presumably mows down more children with his laser gun. Sae sighs. Why the hell did I agree to that again? He can already tell that he’ll regret indulging Shidou at the end of the day.

However, at the moment, Sae has greater worries to focus on. If he’s completely honest with himself, he doesn’t hold anything against Sendou. He barely knows the guy, after all, beyond some slight inklings of his irritating nature. There’s no reason for him to target him. Weighing all the benefits and downsides of attacking, it should be a clear decision. He just reminded himself that he had to fill in the points that he hoped Shidou would miss. He started this game with a clear plan. All signs support the choice to ignore Sendou and move on.

But, Sae’s feeling petty and thinks he’ll extract some borderline-sadistic glee from absolutely destroying the other. What can he say? He never promised to be a fair or kind person.

No matter how shit Sendou’s aim is, running straight at him from up the stairs to the tower he’s cowering in is still suicide. Yes, perhaps after reaching the top and getting hit once Sae’d have a chance to retaliate, but there’s no way he’s about to give Sendou the satisfaction of managing to hit him in the first place. He’s going to have to find a different way in.

A quick scan of the structure reveals that there are several entrances to the top: the aforementioned stairs, a fireman’s pole, a climbing wall, and a rope ladder. None are conspicuous enough or fast enough to compensate, leaving no choice but to improvise. In that case, the pole might be the most promising. It reaches all the way to the top of the structure, and if Sae can time it correctly, he’ll be able to get to the roof of the building and go from there, even though Sendou's likely to spot him on the way up.

First though, Sae climbs atop a stack of blocks a couple of feet away in order to identify the design of the roof. A couple of metal beams, most covered in protective foam, pierce through the top: the inner foundations of the tower. Some ledges that form the overhanging roof pieces for the balconies, the main overlook adorned with a flag containing the laser tag arena’s brand symbol. That should be able to support Sae’s weight and succinctly assist with his surprise attack.

Observations completed, Sae heads back towards the tower to enact his plan. He spares a glance for his demon, who hasn’t changed much from last he checked: still terrorizing all with ten feet of him.

Showtime. Sae listens for Sendou’s yelling and the artificial sound of his gun firing, and once he catches a particularly spirited waterfall of insults and rapid fire, he leaps into action. There’s no strap for the gun to sling over his shoulder, so he stuffs it as best as he can into his vest and takes a running jump towards the pole up. There’s a pause of breath as Sae’s airborne and flying towards steel, before he collides with a loud clang. Sendou lets out a yelp at the noise and pauses in his tirade. Footsteps reverberate through the floor. He’s approaching.

That’s fine. Sae lets out a steady breath of air. All this has been included within his calculations either way. He isn’t stupid: a plastic vest and gun against his chest and a metal pole coming into contact with them doesn’t just go unnoticed. Rather than stressing, Sae begins to pull himself up the pole with his arms and legs, muscles burning slightly from the exercise after some time since dropping his old intense workout schedule (though he keeps his body in shape: habits are hard to break, after all). Each inch up lets out another sharp clack.

Sendou’s footsteps quicken and Sae hears him call out, “Hey! Who’s there!?” He doesn’t respond in order to focus on the pole, one hand atop the other bringing him higher and higher. Just as he reaches the top and vaults himself over the edge of the roof, loud electronic gunshots sound by the opening of the platform, and Sae spots Sendou leaning out near the pole with a trembling gun in his hands. A curse leaves his mouth once he determines there’s no threat in sight, though he’s still suspiciously scanning the ground and area as he retreats back onto the platform. Step one: success.

From this new vantage point, Sae can clearly monitor the entire area without much effort since the central structure rises several feet above the rest of the room. Shidou’s as eye-catching as ever: not much has changed with his situation in comparison to last Sae saw. Aiku takes a bit more effort to find with his black hair that blends into the background, but the neon green highlights give him away. In almost opposition to Shidou’s style, Aiku’s waiting at a high traffic intersection for unsuspecting prey to fall into his hands rather than hunting them down.

Sae lets out a “Tch.” Aiku and him think too similarly--that’s probably why they never worked out. Can’t have two closed off over-analysts in the same relationship and expect it to function.

Sendou has returned to his lookout and overconfident antics during the time Sae spent watching Shidou and Aiku. Despite the disturbance Sae’s climb caused, it seems Sendou’s already managed to put the whole event past him. Good. That means he won’t be expecting a surprise attack now.

Sae crouches and crosses the roof towards the overlook of the balcony that Sendou occupies. As he nears the other, Sae carefully detaches his laser gun from his vest and readies it within his right hand, grasping it tightly against his arm and chest. The flagpole that holds the arena’s symbol’s within sight now. Sae takes a slow breath in and out, focusing only on the goal in front of him and filtering out the clamor of children and music.

Then, with careful, quiet steps, Sae balances himself on the pole standing first, before flinging himself backwards off the edge.

Adrenaline and a touch of fear rushes through Sae’s veins as he floats untethered within the air for a moment. Sendou notices the movement with a shout--he scrambles to shift his aim and lets out a couple of panicked shots that fly past Sae’s cheek--but it’s a second too late. Sae grits his teeth and reaches with his unoccupied hand for the pole above him, using it as a swing bar to guide himself onto the balcony, air blowing his hair back against his ears. Shocked, Sendou stumbles back: a perfect opportunity. Though Sae can still feel his heart pounding as he lands feet first on the structure, the force of the impact streaking up from his soles to his knees--almost enough to make Sae buckle--he immediately takes up his gun with his other hand and aims-

BANG.

The squawk Sendou lets out at the buzz of his vest feels like a soothing balm on all of the stress he and Aiku has caused Sae today. He collapses, gun falling to the side with a clatter, shifting back on his hands and feet in an attempt to escape from Sae’s scrutinizing gaze. Sae follows him under the main section of the roof with cold eyes.

“H-hey! You stay away from me, alright?! Yeah, you got me and whatever, now just leave me alone!”

Sae doesn’t respond. There’s some sort of sadistic glee traveling up from within at how Sendou cowers, probably not anything healthy. He’d worry about this new malice of his, but honestly? He couldn’t care less at this moment.

“What’d I even do to you?! This is about Aiku, isn’t it? I’m not responsible for whatever problems he’s got himself involved in, so just take your revenge out on him!” Sendou looks around frantically for an escape and Sae simply continues his approach.

Seeing how all his efforts have failed to halt his attacker, Sendou then shifts to taunting, a shaky smirk crossing his face. “Well?! Gonna say something? Maybe you’re all bark and no bite after all genius!”

“You know I’ve always hated that dumb title of yours. Who do you even think you are, some savior blessed by the divine to come save your poor, little fellow soccer players? Even that stupid unruffled expression gets on my nerves. Huh? You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?”

“Well, why should I lie to you and pretend any of you are anything above the level of sub-monkey creatures?” Sae’s voice stays even and detached as he finally responds. Sendou’s face contorts into a scowl.

“Why you-”

The loud sound of pounding footsteps is the only warning before a certain demon comes barreling onto the platform. Sae’s eyes widen at Shidou’s entrance--he thought the other would still be preoccupied with racking up the points needed to win the bet, but he can’t analyze the possible motivations behind Shidou’s presence for much longer, as not a second after he arrives, Shidou rushes at Sendou with a flying roundhouse kick.

“Heh, SHUT IT FISH-LIPS!” he shouts. There’s a sickening crunch as Shidou’s boot makes contact with Sendou’s face, and Sendou immediately crashes into the ground with a yelp.

Ah, Sae thinks. There’s no way we’re ever coming back here.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that that blondie was being such a prick! If anything, he shouldn’t have pissed me off,” Shidou whines as he kicks at the ground and grumbles.

Sae levels him with a dry stare. “Yes, it is your fault.”

Ignoring Sae’s interjection, Shidou just continues on with his rant. “And getting kicked out for it? It was just a little violence, geez!”

Sae sighs. The two of them are standing outside of “EXTREME” following an extremely terrified but firm message from the staff that their conduct was unacceptable, and thus they must be dismissed. They didn’t say it explicitly, likely out of fear of what Shidou might pull in response, but Sae knows the two of them are definitely banned for life.

“You’re lucky you didn’t give him a concussion.”

“Pshhhh- so what if I did though?” Shidou cackles. “Might’ve knocked something loose in his brain and made him a better player anyway.”

“You’ve never played against Sendou in your life, how do you know how good of a player he is?”

The other shrugs and lifts his arms behind his head, face tilted towards the blue sky. “Eh, I can just tell. There’s no way some wimp like that would be able to make anything close to an explosion on the field.”

That’s not a valid explanation at all, but Sae simply decides to leave the subject as it is, not wanting to subject himself to further Shidou tormentation. He picks up his pace a bit to pull ahead of the other. He throws over his shoulder as he walks a “Sure. I don’t actually care how you came to that conclusion. Take me back to school already. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”

Shidou speeds up as well and quickly reaches Sae’s side once again in only a handful of strides. Damn tall people. “Yeah, yeah, genius. But I know you had fun, admit it!” He grins at that, a wide one showing off some of the gums of his teeth.

Sae doesn’t deem that worthy of response, so he stays silent. He arrives by the passenger side of Shidou’s car a step before the other and stands with a hand on the handle as he waits for Shidou to unlock the doors. Two beeps sound in a row and there’s a clack as the car unlocks. Sae doesn’t wait a moment longer--he throws open the door and slips into his seat. Shidou follows.

They sit in silence for a minute before-

“Hey. Start the car.”

Shidou turns to look at Sae with wide eyes and says, “Wait, what about your number? You promised!”
God. This again? “You only got 97 points. Last I checked, 97 does not equal 100. As per our agreement, you don’t get my number.”

“And I told you that I would have definitely gotten 100 if it weren’t for that blondie!”

“I don’t care about whatever hypotheticals you have in your mind. 97 doesn’t equal 100, and that’s final.”

“Saeeeeeeee!”

“If you don’t stop that and start this car right now, I’m going to get out and call Aiku to send me home.”

That shuts Shidou up quick enough.

They drive in silence for a while, the only sound being the quiet music playing from the car’s speakers--some type of alt rock--and Shidou humming along under his breath. Sae stares out the window at the scenery flying by before turning to his phone.

As the screen lights up to show his lockscreen (a family photo that he’d sooner kill Rin over than reveal it to him), he notices a new notification, one not pertaining to his school activities or parents’ once a month text tentatively probing him about his relationship with Rin that he always ignores. It’s from Bachira, in fact.

Sae unlocks the phone with a fingerprint and navigates to his messages.

Bachira: SAE CHAN!!!

Bachira: im so ssooso sorry btu i cant meet up w u today aftrskl bc i made some plans w isagicchi and nagicchi sryyy!!

Bachira: ill text u later though bc i did find out smth but busy rn!!!

Well, whether he receives the info in person or otherwise, it doesn’t matter to Sae. He leaves the messages on read and places his phone back into his pocket, only to look up at the bare trees lining the road rushing past the window and squinting.

“This is not the way back to school. Are you directionally challenged, demon?”

Shidou’s humming breaks off in response to Sae’s accusation, and he glances over from the corner of his eye as he flicks on his left blinker. His gaze refocuses on the street ahead for the turn (surprisingly smooth for how wild he is in any other situation) and explains with a teasing lilt, “Hey, since our time together was unfairly cut short-”

No thanks to you, Sae thinks.

“-I was thinking we could go hang somewhere else!”

He’s unbelievable. “No. Absolutely not. Take me back to the school, that’s what we agreed on.”

“No can do Sae-chan!”

Sae’s left speechless at just how shameless the other is. In the moments where he struggles to gather his thoughts through the shock, Shidou pulls into the lot of a public park and shuts the car off. This time, Shidou’s the first one out, and he looks back at Sae to call out, “You coming?”

Sae considers the possibility of just switching into the driver’s seat and heading back to school without Shidou, but Shidou has already taken the keys on the ignition and put them into his pants. So Sae sighs (which he feels he’s been doing a little too often these days) and exits as well. Appeased, Shidou heads towards the main field area. Sae follows at a much slower, resigned pace.

Surprisingly, Shidou doesn’t immediately launch into a new conversation the moment the two of them reach the path and instead remain quiet, as if waiting for Sae to initiate.

Well, if that’s what he’s waiting for, he’ll be waiting all night. It seems Shidou realizes that too, since after only a couple more paces he can’t hold back what he wants to say any longer. “So, aren’t you gonna ask?”

“Ask what?”

“About what I wanted to show you! Like, why laser tag?”

“I just assumed you lied to me yesterday in order to get me to come play this useless game with you, for no particular reason other than the fact that you’d get a kick out of being able to brag about spending time with the famous Itoshi Sae of BL High.”

Shidou pouts. “You think I’m that shallow?”

Sae opens his mouth to respond, but Shidou quickly cuts him off before the “yes” is out of his mouth. “Okay, okay I get it. But I promise I had a reason! Other than the fact that laser tag’s fun.”

“It’s not like I could stop you from telling me anyway.”

“Well, I knew you’d never join me in a soccer game, as crazy as that is. Laser tag might be fun but there’s nothing like soccer!”

“So you took me to a laser tag game because you thought it was similar to soccer? How stupid. No matter how many similarities there are, it’s not going to make me want to play again. As you just said yourself, laser tag isn’t soccer, after all.”

“That was only part of it. Honestly, I really just wanted to bring you somewhere fun to forget about it all. Just didn’t expect your ex to be there too!”

It’s then that it hits Sae that he did actually have fun during the game. Sometime between goading Aiku and planning his attack on the tower, the world had melted away to leave Sae’s focus only on the action and the bet. That realization brings a lump into his throat that he forcibly swallows down.

“Then your mission failed. That was the worst experience of my life,” he lies. It’s almost more out of obligation to keep up appearances than his own will.

Shidou sees through the dishonestly without effort, Sae can tell by the glint in his bright pink eyes, but stays silent about it beyond a smile. It’s softer than the rest of his usual feral grins, and something stirs at the sight. Sae ignores it like he does with any unknown emotion he feels.

The blonde then halts suddenly, so much so that Sae nearly runs into the other’s back. “Hey-!”

“You wanna get some ice cream?” Shidou asks, gesturing to a stand by the side of the field, safely tucked into the shadows of a couple of trees. Sae looks over at where Shidou’s pointing and cringes internally. He’s definitely never been to this park before, but he recognizes the ice cream advertised on bright signs and idealistic illustrations. It’s the same brand as the one he used to eat with Rin.

“We can even try our luck~”

Sae turns away. “Do whatever you want.”

Shidou clearly takes that as permission as he bounces off towards the stall not a second later leaving Sae to his memories. Sharing ice cream with Rin, despite his now strained relationship with the other, Sae can’t help but see those moments as bright spots of his childhood.

He’s not the type to believe in luck: Sae lives in a world of numbers and simulations, a kingdom ruled by logic and nothing else. In the end, luck doesn’t exist, that’s undeniable. Yet, no matter the amount of time he spends rationalizing the concept of luck as impossible, something twinges inside whenever chance doesn’t go his way. It’s hard to accept a failure when there’s nothing to blame for it. Harder still for Sae. He’s aware he’s not exactly the greatest when it comes to defeat, considering he’s a perfectionist by even the strictest of definitions. Not that he feels the urge to change that aspect of himself particularly. So, when toddler Sae finished his popsicle to see the words “You lost!” and Rin by his side received the opposite, on a whim he claimed that losing is the better option of the two anyway: so as to not waste your luck. Sae didn’t believe in luck back then either, even as a child.

Winning or not, though, didn’t matter all that much. The camaraderie, the admiration: that’s why he always bought those ice creams after practice. So, is it really all that bad that he never admitted that he had just made up an arbitrary rule about a fictitious force to avoid that slight failure? Not like it really hurt Rin in the long run, unlike-

“Hey, Sae-chan!”

Shidou runs back towards Sae with a grin on his face and- is that? Two popsicles. When had Sae indicated any interest in getting one for himself?

“Got you one too!” He thrusts out one of the two towards Sae.

“I didn’t ask for one.”

“I’ll just keep bothering you until you take it then.”

Sae glares. “Fine. If it’ll finally get you to leave me alone.”

Shidou’s smile brightens as Sae takes the popsicle from him. “Can’t promise you on that last part!”

The packaging of the ice cream crinkles as Shidou rips it open to reveal artificial bright blue. Without a moment to spare, he sticks the entire thing into his mouth in one go, letting out a disgusting slurp in the process.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Sae lets the other know.

“Hrm?” Shidou manages to get out around the cheap snack. He tugs it out of his mouth with a wet pop, and Sae’s mind plunges into the gutter without his permission. His grip around his own still unopened popsicle tightens unconsciously.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Shidou smirks. “Is it working?”

“I’m leaving.”
“Woah, woah! Wait, Sae-chan! I’ll stop, okay?” Shidou says as he scrambles to keep up. Sae doesn’t fully believe Shidou’s words, but he stops skeptically anyway. True to his word, Shidou stops attempting to deepthroat the popsicle and just bites chunks of it off the top like a regular person. Well, like a slightly more violent normal person, but it’s good enough. Sae takes the wrapper off his own popsicle and begins to eat it as well.

For a moment, there’s peace as the two of them focus on their respective popsicles, only the occasional crunch and the chirps of birds filling the space. Then, because peace can only last for so long when Shidou Ryusei is near, he bites off a considerably larger chunk of his popsicle before asking, “Hey Sae-chan. You know how to take a shit, right?”

What. The fuck.

“What the fuck?” Sae repeats aloud.

Shidou takes the popsicle from out of his mouth and waves it around in vague gestures. “You know, you’re kinda uptight right? Could be fixated on the anal stage.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Excuse me?!”

“You know, Freud?”

Sae does not know. He does not think he wants to know.

In response to Sae’s silence, Shidou elaborates. “Freud’s psychosexual stages. The second one is the anal stage. Said that learning to poop was sexy for kids or some shit, and if you never figure out how you get ‘fixated.’”

“In what world does that make any sense. And how does any of that apply to me?”

Shidou shrugs. “Apparently, if you can’t shit means you start getting overly meticulous and stuff.” He looks over at Sae. “Like you.”

Sae stands in total shock for a moment. “Do you even hear the bullshit that you’re saying right now.”

Shidou throws his hands up in a “Hey, don’t blame me!” motion and says, “I’m not saying anything really! It’s all Freud’s theories anyway, and he made them all without even talking to kids, so they’re probably all wrong.”

“Then why the hell are you applying them to me? Where’d you even learn all this anyway?”

“You were looking kinda far away. At least it got you out of your head!” He pauses for a moment to take another bite from the ice cream. “And you know. You learn a lot of random shit a fuck-o-clock at night.”

Sae bites his lip. “Even if you were right, there are much better ways of getting my attention other than accusing me of not being able to go to the bathroom by myself.”

“Well, Freud’s interesting though! Sure, most of his theories were obviously thinly veiled projections, but you gotta admit he’s got a point about some stuff. Like the repressed anger shit?”

This conversation is rotting Sae’s brain. He bites a large piece off of his popsicle in hopes that the cold would shock his mind into freezing and he wouldn’t have to listen to this drivel any longer.

Unfortunately, Shidou continues. “No offense Sae-chan, but I think you might have to release some of those unconscious urges. Can’t be ruled by the superego all the time! Gotta listen to your id too. Like, when’s the last time you got laid?”

Please shut the fuck up. “You’re only saying that because you want to be the one to change that.”

He gets a cackle in response. “Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down!”

“I’m not.”

“Now that’s what Freud would call the defense mechanism of denial.”

“And your response is what I’m going to call the defense mechanism of delusion. Now drop this stupid topic.”

Shidou snickers. “Whatever you say, Sae-chan!”

Sae rolls his eyes. That’s rich coming from someone who only listens to Sae’s wishes about 30% of the time.

With that, Shidou takes the last bite of his popsicle and flips the stick over. “Would you look at that, won again!” Then he wanders into Sae’s personal space and says, “What about you Sae-chan? What’d you get?”

Sae shoves the other’s face away with a noise of disgust. “Back off, demon. And be patient, can’t you see I haven’t finished yet? I’m not a heathen like you.”

Under his breath, he adds, “Not like that’s going to change the outcome anyway though. It’s going to be a loss like always.”

“No need to be so negative! I’ve got tons of extra luck, so just treat me like your lucky charm, ‘kay?”

“That’s… not how it works.”

But Sae doesn’t fight Shidou’s logic any further and finishes off his own popsicle soon after. Despite how many years have passed since he last shared ice cream with Rin, the familiar anticipation still fills his stomach and he can feel his heart pound a bit faster in response. He takes a shaky breath, then flips the stick over to check the words on the other side.

“I… won,” Sae murmurs, voice filled with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“Told you so!” Shidou sounds so proud of himself, acting as if he did anything to control this random outcome. “Hey, getting you the win should be enough to make up for those couple of missing points, right? So you gotta give me your number now!”

Sae ignores the other’s self-serving logic to simply stare at the stick. The words are printed in a burnt umber, ink slightly streaky from the ice melting into the wood. A machine made this. Whether it read win or lose wasn’t decided by Shidou’s last minute offer to share some luck, but rather something set in stone from the beginning, since before Sae took the popsicle from Shidou, from before Shidou bought it from the vendor, from before the vendor even received it from the factory.

In that case, would it be more accurate to attribute this moment to fate?

Sae still doesn't believe in luck. He believes in fate even less. But- looking down at the stick with the "You won!" printed into the wood, he feels a certain warmth.

Lucky charm, huh?

“Sae-chan! You did hear me right?”

Sae brushes past Shidou to head towards the trashcans set up by the side of the gravel path. The door slides open with a clank, and Sae tosses the stick into the basket. He shuts it before he sees the stick hit the bottom.

“Sae-chan!!”

He’ll regret this, he already knows. But whether it’s the lingering warmth of winning this stupid game of chance, some dormant thankfulness for the laser tag that he shouldn’t have enjoyed as much as he did, or just Shidou’s strange influence that always softens him, Sae’s holding out a hand before he knows it.

“Give me your phone,” he says.

Shidou brightens immediately and smiles in that self-satisfied way that only someone who knows he’s won can. “Knew you’d come around, Sae-chan.”

“If you send me your dick, I’ll block you,” Sae says. Somehow, in that moment, he can’t find it within himself to regret punching his number into Shidou’s contacts.

They leave the park soon after exchanging contacts, and Sae ends up at home safe just after when he’d usually get there. Rin’s still out practicing unsurprisingly, so Sae has the whole place to himself for a while (he and Rin started living alone when they had to move closer to BL High and their parents couldn’t drop their jobs to move with them). He heads up to his room and throws his backpack onto the ground to boot up the computer on his desk. Better work on that research paper he’s been putting off.

Partway into the introduction and fighting to find a suitable hook, his phone lets out a buzz. In response, his heart does something halfway to skipping a beat, but Sae dismisses that possibility the moment it crosses his mind. He’s not some shoujo protagonist waiting for the male lead to text him. He’s Itoshi Sae for god’s sake, BL High’s ice prince. To prove this to himself, he ignores the device to finish the sentence he’s working on.

The phone lets out a series of rapid buzzes, and it’s finally enough to pull Sae’s attention away from the paper. He reaches over for it with a huff, then flips it so he can see the notification banners.

A twinge of disappointment runs through him when he realizes it isn’t from who he had thought, but rather a message from Bachira.

Wait. Disappointment? If anything, he should be happier to see it’s Bachira over Shidou--that means that there’s been an update with the Isagi situation and not just some stupid meme or something that’d just waste his time. What’s been going on with him these days? Sae shakes his head violently in hopes to clear his mind from whatever strange thoughts that have been plaguing him ever since he met Shidou and unlocks his phone to read the texts.

Bachira: as promised!!! heres the info!

This message is then followed with a deluge of emoticons. Sae moves on.

Bachira: not much going on w yoi and nagi rn but guess what i foudn out!!

Bachira: apparently nagis not the only one who got caught doing smth he shoudnt… our resident rich boys got a scandal of his own!

The next message is an image. When Sae makes out what’s going on through the blurry shot and horrible resolution, he reflexively sucks in a breath. A scandal indeed.

Bachira: the plot thickens hehehe…

A feeling of déjà vu overcomes him as he stares at the photo. It’s taken from behind a stone planter that covers half the image, and he can just make out who it’s of.

Reo, hand in his partner’s hair, eyes closed and head tilted to press his mouth against the other’s.

With bright red tresses braided up against one side of his skull and the rest falling over his shoulders, the camera catches Chigiri Hyouma frozen in the moment.