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“To winning the World Cup!”
Isagi repeated the declaration with fire in his voice, raising his drink with the rest of the team and cheering as they clinked glasses together before downing most of them in one gulp. Isagi took longer than they did and coughed as the alcohol burned his throat, but he wasn’t so far behind as he slammed the empty shot glass into the table like a judge with his gavel. His teammates roared, at him or someone else, he wasn’t sure, and Isagi was almost shaken off his stool as Hiori slapped him on the back to save him from his teenage choking.
Isagi, having been reminded of his shitty tolerance enough times to know one shot was enough for the night, hopped away from the table with a cheerful goodbye as he made to return to the room he shared with Bachira. But as soon as the lobby was within eyesight, he noticed a head of blonde hair, tipped with blue, making a hasty beeline for the exit.
He knew that bad haircut anywhere.
Isagi glanced behind him for prying eyes, and when there were none, he abandoned sense to instinct and changed his trajectory to the exit as well. Where could Kaiser possibly be going at this hour? They were in his home country, of course, so Isagi knew that logically there could be a million and one reasons for him to go into the city. But he also knew Michael Kaiser wasn’t partial to any of them.
So, before his brain caught up with his legs, Isagi was following after him. He’d never admit it, but he was perplexed by the lack of a courteous, Hey, fucker, suspiciously sneaking out of the hotel in the middle of the night before the first round of the World Cup, wanna come? Isagi was curious, and as he slipped through the rest of the bar and then the lobby he decided he was on a mission.
As the hotel doors slid closed behind him with a soft whoosh, he spotted Kaiser again, a few meters ahead of him next to a spotlight as he waited to cross the street. Ever the strategist, Isagi stayed where he was and plucked out his phone.
Me
what are you idiots doing tonight?
He watched Kaiser feel his phone vibrate in his pocket, turn the device over, and read the text. He stared at it for a few seconds before beginning to type, and Isagi eagerly watched the three little dots bounce up and down until:
bane of my existence (DO NOT PICK UP)
Depends. How long were you going to follow me to find out?
Isagi froze, phone in hand. When he raised his head, Kaiser was looking right at him, waving his fingers with a shit-eating smirk painted on his face. Isagi copied it, cheeks stretching as he put his phone away. Motherfucker.
“You asshole.” He sauntered over, Kaiser staying put at the stoplight and observing him. “How did you catch me that fast?”
Kaiser nodded his head upwards as Isagi approached, and he looked in the direction the taller man indicated to see a large fisheye mirror ornamenting the pole above them. It was wide enough to have captured Isagi, easily identifiable in his bright blue Team Japan jacket, and he cursed himself for forgetting its conspicuousness in his excitement. Kaiser found it amusing. “Sharp as always, Yoichi.”
“Fuck off.” Isagi grinned as he bumped his upper arm against Kaiser’s, then used it to pull him into an aggressive, inescapable yet brief… embrace. Gross. Or something adjacent to one, anyway— as close to a hug as they could get without feeling sick. Because, you know, mutual hatred and all that.
“If you were that desperate for my company, you could’ve just asked,” Kaiser said into his shoulder, voice muffled. “I know you landed on Sunday.”
“How do you know I wasn’t asking so I could see your boyfriend?” Isagi pulled away, pretending to brush himself off in a way that made Kaiser roll his eyes.
“Because I’m fairly sure you text Alexis more than you text me.”
“Well, I like him more than you, duh.”
“Oh, trust me,” Kaiser answered with a playful scoff as the walk sign flashed white above them, “I know. He’s excited to see you, too.”
Kaiser started crossing the street, so after a moment’s hesitation Isagi decided, fuck it, I guess we’re crossing the street . Why not? “And yet, why must you get in the way of our love?”
Kaiser laughed once, confident enough Isagi was a step behind him to not even bother turning around as he bridged the crosswalk. “Aren’t the two of you just horribly tragic.”
“We are. Don’t make light of my soulmate.”
They rounded a corner, chattering pedestrians all around them, and Isagi suddenly wished he was dressed more like Kaiser: all in black with his hood thrown up the second they reached the other side of the street. “Don’t let bob-cut hear you say that. Or Rin.”
“Ah, they know about my star-crossed lover. Maybe in another life,” Isagi joked, and Kaiser snorted in spite of himself. “How is he?” He asked after a second, “Alexis?”
“Good,” Kaiser answered neutrally, stopping at another flickering crosswalk sign. “He’s— good, yeah. Probably already fast asleep in that freakish way he does the night before a game.”
“Hey, he’s earned it,” Isagi countered, nudging him. “Remember the way he used to be up all night? I mean, we all were. Still are, evidently. But at least one of us learned how to sleep off nerves.”
“Aw. It’s cute, if you think I’m nervous.”
“Shut up.” Isagi shook his head with a smile, glancing up as the light changed. As Kaiser began to walk forward, not headed towards any immediate explanation, Isagi took it upon himself to inquire about his little field trip. “Where are you going, anyway? I know you guys don’t play tomorrow, but I can’t imagine you have somewhere to be at this hour.”
“That’s presumptuous.”
“Okay, scratch that— I know you don’t have anywhere to be at this hour.”
“Ouch. Hurtful.”
“Kaiser.”
Kaiser released his fake pout with a sigh. “You’ve caught me, then. In the absolutely, horrendously criminal act of going for a walk.”
Isagi didn’t buy it. “Bullshit.”
“Bullshit?”
“Yeah, total bullshit.”
“You’ll be disappointed, then.”
“Really?” Isagi pressed, but, weirdly enough, Kaiser did seem genuine. “That’s it? A walk ? I’ve never known you to do that before.”
“Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Maybe I’ve led a scandalous double life this whole time, and I’m luring you to my secret lair to do away with you.” Kaiser glanced at him, and, faced with the pressure of Isagi’s unchanging expression, he came to an admission. “Alright, fine. I am just going for a walk, as normal people do, but I wanted to… clear my head. Which your presence makes very difficult, by the way.”
“What are you clearing your head of?” They stopped at another corner.
This time, Kaiser took a right. “Give it a couple more blocks. Maybe I’ll tell you.”
“The suspense is unbearable. And you couldn’t kill me if you tried, by the way.”
They bickered like that for the next few blocks, and Isagi noticed the small crowds growing thinner and thinner, the streetlights dimmer, the sidewalks bumpier. Buildings started to seem older, and there were more plants here, like little corners of the world time couldn’t touch. Most of their leaves had long fallen to the ground, seldom to be seen, but the sea of twinkling stars between the wiry branches made Isagi think that wasn't so bad.
“Hold on, I want a slushie.” Kaiser stopped suddenly, so quickly Isagi narrowly avoided tripping over his feet. The sidewalk had intersected with the parking lot of a convenience store, the glaring light of its signage painting their faces in an eerie green hue. “Do you want one?”
“Are you dying or something?” Isagi looked the man up and down for any signs of illness. “Did you come out here because you have some awful disease and you don’t know how to tell—“
“ What is so unusual about a slushie?”
“Uh, offering me one.”
“Am I that horrible to you?”
“Yes,” Isagi answered without a second thought. “You’re horrible in general, though.”
“You’re so cruel,” Kaiser sang, snaking backward on the balls of his feet until Isagi finally caved and followed him into the store with a groan. He had a game tomorrow, he tried to remind the enigmatic blonde, but he managed to talk Kaiser into a compromise of getting them both small cups. At least on Kaiser’s end, it was still healthier than… other habits he used to have on the eve of a game (even though Germany wasn’t playing tomorrow, it was the sentiment of the thing). Isagi supposed this was a compromise in that sense, too.
They left the store, doors sliding closed behind them with a pitchy ding, and after being inside the cold air of the night stung even harder. The frozen drinks in their hands — Isagi’s raspberry, and Kaiser’s blue raspberry, which he tirelessly attested tasted different than the former — didn’t help at all, and Isagi felt the pinch of brain freeze between his eyes after just one sip.
“Lightweight,” Kaiser coughed, and Isagi tried to trip him as he walked. He was unsuccessful, but seeing Kaiser hop on one foot to avoid him was entertaining enough.
Kaiser led them into an alleyway, where a rusted ladder came down off of the side of the rightmost building. Isagi looked at him questioningly, frowning in a voiceless, what the hell? Kaiser just looked back with a crooked smile, the one the press and interviews never saw, and started climbing with one hand. In his other hand, the chemically blue drink sloshed perilously around the lid. After some time playing together, Isagi had learned to tell Kaiser’s real smiles from his fake ones — the real one was uneven, lopsided like one of his cheeks was heavier than the other. In his own (and Ness’ – this is why they were meant to be) personal opinion, it was far more charming than the picture-perfect arch the media saw. Kaiser had never agreed, but they’d get there.
Isagi had a million questions, and he could only hope an answer might be on the roof. So he gripped his slushie in his left hand and ungracefully clambered up the ladder behind Kaiser, spilling a few spare drops as he went. The temperature seemed to fall with every meter in the air, and before he even reached the summit, Isagi was shivering.
As his head finally peered over the ledge, he was hit with a soft, dark wad of fabric haphazardly thrown towards his face. He spat as if lint had found its way into his mouth, and, once his eyes re-focused, was face-to-face with Kaiser’s hoodie sitting on the edge of the roof in front of him. Still on the ladder, Isagi looked up, and Kaiser was staring down at him with one hand in the pocket of his jeans and his muscles on partial display in a tight-sleeved shirt.
“I can hear your teeth clattering,” he said. “Here. Before you go hypothermic.”
“You— What if I lost my balance?” Isagi glared at him, pulling himself over the ledge with a huff as he tried to keep the half-full cup upright. He tumbled onto the rooftop, holding his left hand steady, and pulled Kaiser's hoodie out from under him as he came up to his feet.
The blonde looked at him expectantly, noisily sipping from his own cup with one eyebrow raised. “Then you’ve no hope of winning the World Cup anyway, and I’d be doing you a favor.”
“If you pushed me off of a roof, you wouldn’t be winning the World Cup, either.”
“What, you think the guilt would kill me?”
“No, you idiot, I think you’d be arrested.”
Unimpressed, Kaiser hummed. “They’d never catch me.” Begrudgingly, Isagi put the hoodie over his jacket. It smelled more like Ness than Kaiser.
While Isagi was busy sticking his head through the narrow neck opening, Kaiser had drifted towards the edge of the rooftop that faced the city, where all the lights of the brave souls that persisted long into the night seemed to mirror the stars as if it were an ocean reflecting them. He sat down with his back to Isagi, legs dangling over the edge, and as Isagi followed suit he was greeted with another loud slurp .
Once Isagi sat down, they appreciated the silence for the blurry progression of a minute or so, or more, or less. He watched Kaiser’s eyes, staring out into that ocean of stars removed from the sky, and for the first time in six years, Isagi couldn’t read his mind. It was only then he realized Kaiser wasn’t wearing eyeliner.
“If you jump off this roof,” Isagi warned, pressing into Kaiser’s side, “Kaiser, I swear to God, I will revive you myself and force you to live out of spite just so you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Kaiser glanced at him, chewing his straw between his teeth. “Better make sure I win the World Cup, then.”
“Not. Funny.”
“It’s a bit funny.”
“I’m not letting you win because you said that, you know.”
“I’d never forgive you if you did.”
The moment was almost sweet, but that would be too off-brand for them. “Oh my God, that reminds me,” Isagi remembered, suddenly fishing for his phone, “have you checked Twitter? We’re trending again.”
Slowly, Kaiser cringed. “We’re trending, or we’re trending?”
“…I think you know.”
“Then no, I have not checked fucking Twitter, and I will not check fucking Twitter if that’s—“
”You’re no fun!” Isagi berated playfully, shaking Kaiser by the arm as the other man tried to push him away with equal energy. “Some of it’s, like, pretty good—“
”For the last time, Yoichi, I am not joining yours and Alexis’ weird little book club.”
“Uh, our football fanfiction discussion group is serious business.”
“Ah, discussion group , my mistake.”
“You— I know you’re making fun of me, shut up. There’s this one, it’s, like, a mafia AU—“
”I hate you.”
”—and I’m some big detective and you’re this brooding, mysterious crime boss—“
“Both of you are absolutely insufferable, you do realize that?”
“And you seduce me with your—“ Isagi was failing to keep a straight face, “—your tattoos and your…”
“My charming personality?"
“ Definitely not that.” Isagi beat back giggles, hoping they would infect Kaiser instead. “Don’t worry, though. You could never come between Alexis and I.”
“Oh, good,” said Kaiser sarcastically, “I was worried about that.”
“What did I say? Soulmates.”
Kaiser glared back at him with a smirk, his face betraying the annoyance he tried to feign. “Maybe I should push you.”
“You wanna crush me too much for that.”
They laughed again, softer, as the night seemed to still. And then there was quiet again, but it was a quiet they were both content with, so unlike the way they’d been all those years ago. All those years ago, a time before Isagi even knew what Kaiser’s smile looked like, or the brand of eyeliner he wore, or that he had a shellfish allergy and, according to him, would sooner stuff his face with shrimp at a FIFA banquet and have Ness drive him to the hospital than ever have the public get their hands on that little secret. Before, quiet was impossible between them at worst and forebodingly tense at best. But, knowing it was suspended by something more than animosity, Isagi was okay with quiet. There was so much more behind it now.
Kaiser was the first to say something, still chewing on his straw and looking ahead into the cloudless sky. “Speaking… of Alexis.” His tone shifted like he, Michael Kaiser, the God-favored prodigy, was actually thinking about what he said next, and Isagi was immediately attentive. “There is something I wanted to tell you.”
“What’s wrong?” Isagi asked, shoulders squared, his worst fears suggesting that maybe there was another reason why Ness wasn’t here and—
“What? I—“ Kaiser cut himself off with an elongated groan, his hand going for the rightmost front pocket of his jeans as he looked upwards. “Nothing’s wrong. Hold on—“ He put his cup down on the side of him facing away from Isagi so he could more easily reach his pocket, but when his fingers touched whatever it was he was looking for, he paused.
Isagi narrowed his eyes, but waited expectantly.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” Kaiser stared at him with sharp eyes, which really only concerned the latter more, before adding, “I’m serious.”
“Kaiser, what are you—?”
And then Kaiser pulled out a small, square box. He ducked his head into his shoulder, holding out the cube towards Isagi with one hand like he was wary of looking at it. The already distant noises around them seemed to go quiet, as if the city itself stared in awe, and Isagi felt his lips part as he stared, too. Until Kaiser peeked out from behind his arm to see the damage.
Isagi’s smile was like a beacon.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Kaiser protested, faking disgust, and Isagi knew his face was red without even having to squint through the dark.
“Kaiser,” Isagi began, drawing out the syllables. He was grinning too wide to even speak properly as he brought a hand to his mouth to reign in his expression, blinking at the ring box all the while. “Oh my— Kaiser— ”
“Stop that!”
“Well, something tells me that’s not for me—“
Kaiser’s voice was muffled by his elbow. “I will push you.”
“No, wait, you’re—“ Isagi found his feet dancing in his shoes, his hands equally charged with movement and his cheeks starting to hurt. “That’s so— Kai— “
“If you Kaiser me one more time, I swear—“
"Is that for what I think it's for?"
"...Yes. I'm proposing. To Alexis."
“Oh my God, Kaiser—! Can I see?”
Kaiser started to roll his eyes, then stopped, like even he couldn’t pretend he didn’t look like a fool any longer. He turned his upper body to face Isagi, crossed his legs, and the other mirrored him as Kaiser carefully opened the lid.
The engagement ring was gold. Ness was partial to gold jewelry, Isagi knew, and Kaiser was partial to Ness in gold jewelry. The bottom half of the band was thin and simple, but across the top of it a small, delicate rose wound itself around the metal, sparkling and gold like the rest of it but glowing as if the moonlight had favorites.
Isagi’s chest felt warm as he looked upon the jewelry. Kaiser let him stare, but Isagi could see in his peripheral the way his eyes darted up and down, and he tilted his own up to face the German again. “Of course you would go custom made,” he murmured softly, which was Isagi-Kaiser speak for, it’s beautiful. He beamed up at Kaiser, no doubt red like he was for different reasons, and bumped their knees together. “It’s about time, you dumbass.”
“Shut up,” Kaiser laughed under his breath, closing the box and cupping it in his hands. “You’re not one to talk. How’s Rin?”
Isagi kicked him, using his hands to support his weight as he risked his balance. “Screw you, this isn’t about me! He’s great, ” he added after a second thought, and Kaiser mockingly mimicked his expression. “Do you have a date in mind? What’s your plan? And how long have you been thinking of buying that without telling me, you—”
“I do have a date, actually.” Kaiser was turning the box around in his hands, watching it carefully, and when he paused he looked up at Isagi with a daring glint in his eye and a sly smirk on his face. “I’m asking him after we win the World Cup.”
Isagi almost gasped. “You. Motherfucker—“
“After the final, in Berlin—“
Isagi’s eyes were round, his mouth open yet upturned as he swatted at Kaiser again. “You’re that fucking confident, really?”
“And then some.” Kaiser tilted his head, glancing between Isagi and the box. “What, you didn’t think I’d lose to you?”
“I’m gonna feel a little bad when I beat you, now.”
“As if.”
“What are you gonna do? When— When you lose? Wait another four years?”
“Ah, that’s an easy fix. I won’t lose.”
“You so will.”
“I will not.”
“You’re going to.”
“ You’re going to.”
“Oh— really? Shall we check the—?”
“The pundits and their predictions are full of shit!” Kaiser was laughing openly now, and that , even now, was rare for him. He raised the ring box like he was going to hit Isagi with it, and the latter dramatically cowered in fear to rile him up. “You fucking asshole . ” Kaiser ducked his head again, trying to hide such trivial emotions, like the great Michael Kaiser was above silly things like love. He wasn’t.
Isagi leaned forward and shook Kaiser’s right shoulder, not giving in as he lazily tried to push him away. “ Please tell me your arrogant ass has a backup plan?”
“ No. ” Kaiser’s eyes glinted, and he sighed through his teeth. “…Maybe. In an impossible event— call it a failsafe. That I will not be using.”
That alone was evidence of how much time had passed— Isagi knew that the Kaiser of seven years ago would’ve never had anything of the sort, would’ve been so absurdly overconfident that he had no reason for one. But this Kaiser had experienced failure, had flown around the sun until he could bear it no longer and was forced to reconstruct himself after hitting the ground. “Glad to know you’re human after all,” Isagi said, as if Kaiser hadn’t proved that he was years ago, when Isagi started calling him something other than an enemy.
Kaiser chuckled. “Don’t think so little of me.”
They faced the edge again, Kaiser keeping the box close to his chest, and Isagi nudged his shoulder again with his own. “I am happy for you, you know. Shithead.”
Kaiser gagged. “Ugh, gross. Don’t say that to me.” Isagi just smiled at him, opting to give the man with the engagement ring in his hand the floor and sensing that man had more to say. Kaiser was quiet for a moment or so before proving him right. “I… did want to ask you something. For when, ugh , we actually start planning the… the wedding. ” He said it as if he only just remembered what would actually come of a marriage proposal, but even the bliss of that realization did nothing to make his next words sound less like pulling teeth. “…I— I wanted. I would want. I wanted to ask you. If you would be. My—“
The way Isagi’s close-lipped smile exploded into a grin cut him off. He knew where he stood on Michael Kaiser’s list of people he could tolerate, and could already hear what the question was.
“Shut up!” Kaiser snapped, “You’re so— nevermind, actually—“
“I didn’t even say anything! C’mon, just ask me—“
”You’re so childish.”
“No, no, I’m serious. I’m serious, look.” Isagi straightened his spine and forced a pout. “Now, ask me.”
Kaiser stared in disbelief. “You know, if you already know what I was going to ask you, I’m not saying it.”
“What?! Michael Kaiser—!”
“I’m not saying it, you already know!”
“No, no, actually, I have no idea—“
“You fucking—“
“—I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you have to be really clear, Kaiser.”
“No.”
“What did you want to ask me?”
“I’m going to poison you.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“ Say it. ”
“ No. ”
“Tell me how you love and appreciate me and that deep down you’re actually a big—“
“You are the worst possible best man I could imagine, I hope you know that.”
There it was.
Isagi teased him: “I’m hesitant, because you didn’t phrase that as a question, but, yes, I will be.” His eyes were bright. “I’d love to be.”
Kaiser tried to look angry, but the annoyance in his features was accented with a kind of fondness Isagi had grown familiar with. “Yeah. You’re the worst.”
“I think that title belongs to you, shithead emperor.”
“Stupid clown.” Kaiser gave him that look again, then smiled and looked away. Isagi watched him, watched the way age seemed to have softened his features, not sharpened them, inside and out. He was still adorned in thorns not unlike the roses on his throat, he probably always would be, but like his tattoo flowers had grown upon him, too. They would always fight. That was inevitable, that was them , but somewhere along the way, the undertone lurking beneath rivalry became something different. It became something that explained why Isagi leaned his head against Kaiser’s shoulder so easily, why he knew his eyeliner brand and his allergies and his coffee order and the way to his flat and, now, that he was going to be married before anyone else (and that Isagi would be right there next to him). Michael Kaiser had always claimed to be a master of the impossible. Isagi would never say it out loud, but maybe he’d been right.
Beside him, Isagi felt a weight leaning into his own. Kaiser was shivering without Ness’ hoodie. Isagi wouldn’t return it, and if Kaiser was sneezing tomorrow he figured he’d have something to laugh at. “I’m glad we’re friends,” he said, and he knew the smile beside him was lopsided. “And I’m winning the World Cup.”
“…Fuck you.”