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Well, perhaps every action has its consequences. Some you have to deal with right away, but sometimes the situation is slightly different: you wait, you are cautious, afraid of every new step, and you cannot get rid of the nagging feeling, as if something is very, very wrong here. Your worry turns into sleepless nights, and your initial doubts grow, wrapping around thoughts just like a vine, cluttering the already buzzing head until there is absolutely no space left for anything else.
Ranze buries his face into the pillow, feeling his cheeks turn red. He wants to burrow himself even deeper into the hard fabric, but at the last moment he pulls away and inhales loudly through parted lips. His gaze unconsciously falls on a crumpled blanket and messy bed. Somewhere Yukimiya is tossing and grumbling discontentedly, while Isagi’s bed is still empty.
It seems Kurona made a terrible mistake. But it’s not entirely clear when exactly.
***
The most worrying thing is making the first move. Then, when there is no choice left, it will be easier; the burden of responsibility and variability of a binary choice — yes or no? — will fall off your shoulders, leaving behind excitement and a sharp surge of adrenaline that carries you along with the flow. Come what may.
When Kurona carefully took Isagi's hand for the first time, Yoichi only smiled softly, raising his eyebrows in surprise. At first, he looked confused, but then he squeezed the hand tightly in response. He did it without a second thought or subtext, without even thinking. His skin was warm and a little rough, but his grip was noticeably strong. Although Isagi's thoughts weren’t there: he was still on the field, calculating every next move of the opponents and breaking away from reality outside of soccer.
But Ranze felt that his heart did a somersault and fell back with a crash, causing a tremor and a strange itching sensation somewhere in the rib area. A slight blush appeared on his face, and Kurona sighed with satisfaction.
Once he tries, he is not gonna stop.
The second time, Isagi reacted much more calmly, nodding his head in understanding, but still expressing the awkwardness and uncertainty that had formed in thick lumps somewhere deep inside. Ranze then simply looked away and bit his cheek, groaning softly as his sharp teeth scraped the delicate skin. He was burning inside from this sudden awkwardness, but was afraid to unclench his fingers that were carefully squeezing the striker’s palm, as if doing so would make it immediately disappear, forever evaporating into water vapor without the possibility of returning to its previous state of aggregation.
Ah, and as they say, everything good (and not so good, but it can be missed) should happen three times, purely to consolidate the result. Or even more, but only if you get lucky.
***
The more you get, the more you want. Here it is, the statement worthy of an egoist.
Stupid thoughts creep into his head while this sleepless night and the absence of someone significant take their toll, and Kurona crawls out of a warm bed with firm intentions not to leave everything as it is. He feels the touch of cool air, shudders, but doesn’t retreat, only hurriedly leaves the room, quietly closing the door of the dormitory.
Kurona feels slightly uncomfortable as he sneaks through the dark corridors. He is not a criminal, he is not hiding with bad, bad purposes, but he is still restless. His own steps sound quietly, echoing the beating of his heart in his temples, as he reaches the next turn in search of a certain person.
And as expected, he finds this someone in the next room with monitors. He comes in quietly and immediately announces his presence with a quiet knock. Just in case. Yoichi slouches a little, but does not look away from changing frames on the screen.
He looks a little tired, but overall satisfied.
“How’s your leg?” Isagi turns his body in Ranze’s direction, still watching the recording of the match out of the corner of his eye.
“It’s okay, okay,” Kurona nods and carefully looks over Yoichi’s shoulder, also focusing on the monitor.
Germany vs. Italy. It seems to be the early half of their game, since he is still on the field, not benched. Thinking about it, it’s quite weird to look at yourself from the side. But his gaze still unconsciously slides to the dark-haired figure, as if it shines brighter than anyone else on the field, attracting the attention of both the public and the rest of the strikers within the Blue Lock walls. All that remains is to sigh and watch the unbridled progress of a previously unimpressive player with strange reverence.
Ranze probably changed too, watching the person in front of him. The confidence that shone through his actions pushed him to radical measures and some impudence that Kurona would never have allowed himself.
Before.
Isagi forcefully changes himself, everyone and everything around him. As it turned out, not only for the better and not only within the framework of soccer. Right, this suddenly acquired assertiveness is what Ranze always lacked. But this player with the eleven jersey number is full of it, as if Yoichi has not the ego of a desperate striker, but a bottomless ocean at his disposal. And if necessary, Kurona is ready to drift in these waves, even if there is no way back.
Silently dropping down next to him, Kurona gropingly finds Isagi’s wrist and wraps his own fingers around it, but Yoichi gently pulls his hand, shaking off Ranze’s palm. Kurona blinks several times in confusion and tilts his head to change the viewing angle and get a better look at the face behind the bluish strands. A pang of worry causes a strange anxiety: did he do something wrong?
What is the mistake?
For a moment, Isagi tenses his whole body, as if about to stand up, but in the end he just sighs heavily and looks at Kurona. Not just looks, but even stares.
The ocean of blue eyes is unusually bright, as if thousands of ships illuminated the salty waters. All this is accompanied by a sudden rush of warm waves washing the sandy shore: Yoichi's fingers gently stroke Ranze’s knuckles, so Kurona forgets how to breathe and bites his lower lip, this time without holding back.
His teeth dig into the sensitive mucous membrane, blood flows in scarlet drops from the mouth to the chin. Realizing the absurdity of the situation, Kurona covers his reddened face and tries to turn away, but gets interrupted by the hand on his cheek as Yoichi’s lips suddenly press against his own.
His first kiss includes a salty taste and a pair of beautiful eyes in front of him that stare with a sly squint.