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Gentle fingers carded through tousled white blond hair. They lingered in curiosity for a brief moment until tired eyes slowly blinked awake.
The hand that had rested on the crown of Nagi Seishiro’s head retreated as steel gray irises met deep ocean blue.
“Nagi, let’s go to breakfast,” came Isagi Yoichi’s soft but firm call. He stubbornly stood on his tippy toes so his face could peer at his teammate over the top of the bunk bed. Nagi had slept up there well into the late morning after lying dormant like a mummy the night before.
The silence extended Yoichi a wordless greeting as Nagi stared blankly at him.
‘How can he look bored even when he’s just waking up?' Isagi wondered.
Then those morose eyes disappeared languidly behind heavy eyelids.
“Nagi…?”
Isagi found himself looking on in morbid fascination as Nagi dramatically stretched, oddly reminding him of a cat—a giant, over-sized human one. A low groan peeled through parted lips. Nagi tensed his entire body and reached his long limbs out in every direction, making like he would get up, before slinking back down into the bunk mattress as if Isagi wasn’t there and hadn’t invited him to breakfast.
Incredulous at being ignored, all at once Isagi’s face flushed.
Nagi was none the wiser. He let out quite the drowsy yawn and turned so his back faced the agitated striker.
“Hey, Nagi, come on, it's time to eat,” Isagi tried again. At his plea, the lazy genius deigned to curl up and buried himself even further under the covers.
Isagi gaped. ‘He’s not a very considerate guy at all!’
Isagi recalled how he used to lightly shake Bachira awake for early practices on Team Z. Bachira would spring up and drag Isagi excitedly by the arm toward the soccer field, as if it had been him who woke Isagi up in the first place.
This was nothing like that.
Today, Nagi greeted Isagi with no such eager compliance. Isagi had even done his early soccer drills alone, thinking Nagi might like to sleep in, but now it was well past time for breakfast and the lazy genius still refused to move.
‘Doesn’t he want to eat?!’
Isagi noticed his tippy toes were beginning to strain from standing on them too long to look at Nagi on the top bed. He descended to stand flat on his heels and leaned against the bed post. Isagi was still, sulking as he stared at the ugly cinder block wall, and another minute elapsed.
Isagi sighed. He really didn’t want Nagi to miss breakfast hours, and the cafeteria would be closing soon to prepare for lunch. Determined, Isagi turned and rose up onto his toes for the second time.
A full head of hair peaked out from under the blankets, mocking him from a position of tranquil repose. For a split second, the worst part of Isagi itched to yank that albino hair. It would merely be a small repayment for the way Nagi had yanked his own hair so unceremoniously the previous day. But instead, Isagi was overcome by a strong urge to feel its fluffy softness again.
Isagi committed to reaching out to stroke that hair once more—
GRRRR!
Isagi flinched, halting his movement as an embarrassingly loud growl emerged from his stomach. His eyes flew shut as his face scrunched up, flustered. Apparently he was hungrier than he thought after those workout drills.
Silence.
‘Maybe Nagi didn’t hear anything?’
Isagi peeled one sapphire eye open and saw two grey eyes wide awake, looking at him with... interest?
Nagi blinked at Isagi once, twice, and then wordlessly sat up. He clambered to the edge of the bed and shimmied down the side bunk ladder.
Hands in his pockets, he strolled to open the door.
‘Huh?’ Isagi turned around from his space by the bed, surprised by Nagi’s sudden urgency.
Nagi pointed a thumb in the direction of the hall. “Dinner time, right?”
“No, breakfast, genius,” Isagi snickered, his previous chagrin forgotten. He too padded over to the door where Nagi stood waiting.
They exited the sleeping quarters and into the 2v2 loser's stratum.
Isagi kept an even pace alongside Nagi, their shoulders a hair’s width from touching and their steps in perfect sync. They walked together in silence for a little while, until Nagi muttered a question he had on his mind.
“Why didn’t you just go to breakfast earlier if you were so hungry?”
Leave it to Nagi to be openly curious about everything and everyone.
“It’s no fun to go to breakfast alone, silly,” came Yoichi's gentle chide.
Leave it to Isagi to deliver a disarming response in kind.
Nagi’s step barely faltered at Isagi’s simple, matter-of-fact words. They might’ve pricked him with sadness had he been more sensitive to his lonely childhood, but the easy way Isagi spoke was friendly and secure—as if it were so obvious that Isagi would want his 2v2 partner’s company. Nagi’s company.
“Hm,” Nagi shoved his hands deeper into his sweatpants pockets. Nagi had definitely noticed how Isagi had been patient and kind earlier.
The way he had been woken up today had been less bothersome than hearing Reo’s five blaring alarms go off in 5-minute increments before dawn or Zantetsu’s snoring after he would roll onto his back when the sun came up. The sensation of a warm hand stroking his hair was a much nicer way to wake.
"Well, as long as you keep waking me by petting my hair, I guess it’s ok...” Nagi confessed aloud.
Isagi flushed with embarrassment at Nagi’s tactless comment. It happened to coincide with another rumble of his stomach. Isagi saw it as a strangely welcome reminder of the first morning they'd shared. Nagi was his teammate, now, after all.
“Sure,” Isagi relented, feeling relieved as they finally rounded the corner to the dining hall in time to eat. The warm smell of cinnamon wafted into their faces.
“Now shut up about it already, genius.”
On this, Nagi was more than willing to comply.