Work Text:
Frustration didn’t even begin to cover how he felt.
Because of course, frustration was there. That was what Noa said to him after the game as he clapped him on his shoulder and told him to get ready.
“I know you must be frustrated, Kiyora Jin. You will play in the next game .”
Which, you know, was fucking fine , but it still didn’t take away the fact that his opportunity got taken away from him by a smug little know it all who somehow had figured out how to kiss their stoic master’s ass.
Kiyora rolled his eyes, even though there was no one there to see. Everyone else had run off after the game to get a shower, but since he didn’t even do anything, he decided to skip the showers and head right to get dinner before heading back to the dorms.
All he wanted to know was how Isagi got to get away with all the shit he pulled. It reminded him of being back in high school as a first year, and the upper classmen got to do whatever the fuck they wanted to just because they were older, even if Kiyora could hand their asses to them on a silver platter. With Isagi, he knew that wouldn’t be quite as easy, because god, they had already seen what happened when two guys can’t stop fighting. Kiyora really wasn’t looking to get electro shock therapy from Ego.
No, a lobotomy actually sounded so much better because then he wouldn’t even have the brainpower to interact with or acknowledge these stupid “teammates” of his.
Disappointment was the second biggest emotion he was feeling. Disappointment that all of his hard work and effort had been acknowledged by a player as great as Noel Noa, and he still had nothing to show for it.
“Oh you’re a really great player, but…”
But.
But…… what. But what? But you’re not going to get to play this week, again, because someone is being selfish and all for themselves. Again. Just like always.
God, if he didn’t have the smallest sliver of hope that he would get to play next week, then he may have asked to go home. He may have given up and said fuck it, this isn’t worth it.
See, Kiyora never had any grand dreams of playing professionally one day. He never had any dreams of joining the National Team. The only thing that ever put that idea in his head were other people. His teammates, who praised him so much (just so he would do what they wanted and get their own way). His coaches, who said that he had great talent, maybe enough to get someone’s attention. His parents and brothers who only ever supported him and told him he could do it if he tried.
If he really, really wanted to.
Kiyora never believed it. He really wasn’t one for getting his hopes up. He knew that with his skill level, stature (god why did his dad’s genes really come through and make him so short), and general nature, he would top out in football in high school, maybe college if he was lucky (and he never really was), and that would be it.
It would just be fun stories to share with friends and maybe if he ever had kids, he could teach them a thing or two if they were interested. But that was also as unlikely as him making it into the pro-European leagues because of the whole being gay thing.
So okay, maybe through Blue Lock, he had let his expectations get a little bit too high, because actually “making it” finally seemed realistic and not just some long off far away dream that a guy like him could only imagine. A fantasy. Delusional hope. Ego had made it seem real , and so having it all ripped right out from under his feet by some cocky little puzzle freak and his lazy blue haired friend with freakishly huge eyes.
Disgusting. Disgusting that he was even disappointed because he should’ve expected something like this to happen.
It didn’t even matter at this point. The stupid game was over and Kiyora… well. Couldn’t change it now, even though he really, really wanted to.
He wanted this. More than anyone could guess from his grumpy, cold demeanor. More than stupid fucking Hiori who didn’t even try at practice since they all got back from break and were divided into these teams. And now he was worth 20 million yen.
20 million off of a chance that should have been his .
God, and don’t even get him started on Isagi and his 150 million. He had never identified with Michael Kaiser more than after that match, watching him scream in frustration and disappointment and anger that Isagi had fucked things over for him so royally that the only thing left was rage.
At least Kaiser already had it made. His livelihood wasn’t in the balance from one or two games being sabotaged by Isagi.
But Kiyora’s future? Well, you couldn’t convince him honestly that he’d actually get to play in the next game now. Now, Noa had seen what Hiori and Isagi can do together and so realistically, all hope was gone of ever getting his chance to let the leaders of the football world actually see him.
Slamming his fists into his pillow a few times, Kiyora flopped down into his bed face first, fantasizing about suffocating himself in the sheets just for fun. He pulled his blankets over his head, hiding himself and his shame from anyone who might be coming or going from the room. His roommates were obnoxious, and he doubted they would leave him alone when they came back because they were simply not those kind of guys. They were noisy and nosy and damn insufferable. They’d want to talk about how he felt and how upset they’d be if they were in his position.
Like no fucking shit. Who wouldn’t be upset by getting told you were going to play, and then having your backstabbing teammate convince the coach to re-bench you? He was livid. Pissed. So filled with rage and anger that he half considered actually starting a fight with Isagi.
But again. Not worth the shocks.
Sighing heavily, Kiyora tried to calm himself, knowing it really wasn’t worth it. His anger was better spent in other places, like getting back at Isagi and Hiori and the rest of their stupid team who didn’t stand up for him. But even so, it was hard to get his eyes to stop burning. He wasn’t so much of a bitch to cry over something like this, but his body sure seemed to want to.
Hearing the door slide open and shut had Kiyora curling further into a ball under the covers, hoping to make himself as tiny as possible just so no one would interact with him. He didn’t want to talk, even if the person who came to seek him out was wanting to.
“Kiyora? Are you in here?”
Yukimiya. Not in his top ten list of people he would expect to seek him out right now. And definitely not in his top ten list of people he wanted to talk to. So, he didn’t say anything. Rather, he simply continued being a bug, curled up into the smallest possible space. He imagined he just looked like a little lump under the covers.
“Kiyora, you weren’t in the showers nor at dinner. I know you’re here.”
And what if he was? It wasn’t like he and Yukimiya were friends. They spoke sometimes during practice or at dinner, because Yukimiya was one of those guys that made it hard not to respond when he knew you heard him. Just standing there, with that friendly smile that Kiyora was certain was fake. He seemed like a nice enough guy, at least in their passing interactions, but Kiyora knew they were on totally different levels in most ways. Kiyora could probably kick his ass in football, but Yuki was taller, more handsome, and friendlier than he. He was liked and had friends.
You know, it actually made sense that Yukimiya was coming after him then. It shouldn’t be so easy to explain but he was in fact a “nice guy” and did this shit without even thinking about it.
He was so perfect it made Kiyora sick.
“Come on now, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Yukimiya’s voice was closer now. Just at the foot of his bed. He could kick out at him and graze him if he tried hard enough. Probably. But he wouldn’t do that, because it seemed a bit excessive and he wasn’t that crazy.
But he was a bit crazy, and he snapped his teeth at Yukimiya’s hand when he pulled the blanket away from his head.
Sitting up quickly, he yanked the blanket out of Yukimiya’s hand. He considered hissing for added effect, but he hadn’t done shit like that since elementary school so yeah…. Deciding against that for now.
“I’m fine,” Kiyora grumbled, wrapping the blanket around him and over his head like a hood. His voice grumbled, and he knew he looked pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted Yukimiya to leave him alone to mope.
“I get it, you know. That was a dick move Isagi pulled, even if we won.” Sitting down on the bed beside him, Yukimiya gave Kiyora a soft, understanding smile. He reached out one hand, clearly not afraid of the grumpy bed bug, and patted his knee beneath the sheets.
“I hate that guy,” Kiyora grumbled, shaking his leg to get Yukimiya to stop and leave him alone. Yukimiya seemed to understand, and removed his hand. Clasping them both in his lap, Yukimiya nodded, sage understanding on his face as he observed Kiyora..
“I did too, for a really long time. He’s made me feel the same way. Useless. Not good enough. I never wanted to follow along with his schemes because he was just so annoyingly confident and self-assured. Sometimes, I still dream about one of his plans bombing so hard that I can tell the other guys who kissed his ass ‘told you so’.”
Kiyora, not responding, stared dead ahead at Yukimiya. Maybe a dash of intimidation in his gaze and a drop of appreciation. Kiyora knew, if from observations alone, that Isagi did have a penchant for making people's football lives hell. Which absolutely sucked, because off the pitch, he seemed “okay” and nice. Kurona always reminded him of that, which he hated.
Like, he could be a nice guy and an asshole at the same time. He could hate him for one, while the other still existed. And right now, he wanted to squish Isagi’s head like a watermelon. Squeeze it in his hands until pop , there it goes.
The thought made him snicker a bit, which only earned him a smile of confused concern from the model sitting on his bed.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Yukimiya asked, cocking his head to the side so his wavy brown hair shifted and Kiyora frowned at himself for getting distracted just because of Yukimiya’s looks.
Yukimiya was clearly so fake nice it made him angry. No one could be that nice all of the time. Always trying to make friends and “be there” for people. A pretty boy with a savior complex, and he guessed he was the damsel in distress this time.
“No.”
Yukimiya seemed a bit surprised by his response (honestly, that made two of them because Kiyora had no idea why he said that), but nevertheless, settled himself in by pulling his legs up and orienting himself so that they were now sitting face to face, rather than face to side.
“Did you eat dinner? You need to keep up your nutrition if you want to play the next game against PXG.”
Kiyora nodded his head, rolling his eyes again for good measure.
“You’re not my mom,” Kiyora added, frowning slightly as Yukimiya laughed.
“I’m not, you’re so right.” Yukimiya wiped a tear from his eye that seemed genuine, before shaking his head with a sigh. “I’m your friend though, right? So I can worry about you too.”
Kiyora grimaced, not liking the sound of that. Again, barely friends. Barely acquaintances. Barely teammates too, because Kiyora had yet to play a game while Yukimiya has been in every single one. He didn’t even know how he and Yuki could be friends. Yuki probably liked boring shit like coffee and fashion and talking about fancy cars and jewelry, while Kiyora was more than content to occupy his time with self-taught break dancing and chasing bugs and snakes down with his brothers.
They could never be friends. Even if the idea of being friends wasn’t totally repulsive.
But Kiyora was fully convinced that he only wanted that, or was at least open to that, because of Yukimiya’s similar dislike for Isagi.
And his handsome face.
And soft brown hair.
And that stupid fucking smile that made him want to punch a wall.
And this is why Kiyora never made many friends, especially with guys like Yukimiya. Way out of his league. Way too handsome to ever be interested in a mousy guy like him. Kiyora just couldn’t allow himself to act like this when all Yukimiya could ever want with a guy like him was friendship.
Because he would get his hopes up.
That this
kindness
was anything more than just simple kindness when it wasn’t.
Getting his hopes up and disappointing him again. At least, if he got his hopes up with Yukimiya, he would only have himself to blame.
“You’re not my friend,” Kiyora grumbled from his blanket cocoon, pulling the sheets up even higher around him so that Yukimiya could only see his red eyes and bangs.
Cue Yukimiya’s turn to roll his eyes, and he made a move to get off the bed.
“Since I’m not your friend, I guess I should go?”
Before he could move, Kiyora grumbled again, fighting with his internal monologue telling him all of the things he would regret and everything that would go wrong if he made the request that was at the time of his tongue.
But, Kiyora was a glutton for punishment and really didn’t care if his spirit got broken a bit more with a broken heart.
“You can stay, I don’t care.” Even though that was a big fat lie and he did care. Too much in fact. The thought of him leaving and being alone for the rest of the night until his stupid roommates showed up made a pit of dread form in his stomach and he hated it.
He hated most of all that it was someone like Yukimiya giving him this reaction, because he knew that nothing would ever come from this.
Probably.
Didn’t want to get his hopes up, at least not too high. He would set those expectations at friends… they could probably manage that.
“We can talk shit about Isagi to make you feel better,” Yukimiya offered, leaning back on his hands as he settled in and got comfortable.
“And Hiori too,” Kiyora offered, sitting up just a bit straighter and pulling the blanket away from his face to keep his voice clear and open.
“Oh of course. Can’t forget him,” Yukimiya smiled, his cattiness coming out and making Kiyora wonder if there was more to him than met the eye. Maybe he wasn’t so nice after all. Maybe he was a catty little bitch, just like him.
Hiori sucked.
Isagi was a dick.
Both of those things were true.
But maybe he was wrong about Yukimiya. Maybe he was a shitty guy too. Maybe he was a gossip and talked about people behind their back, all while keeping a pleasant grin on his lips when he interacted with them.
Kiyora liked that about him.
Kiyora liked him.
That was disgusting, wasn’t it?