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Meguru and Rin are hooking up.
And Isagi… doesn’t hate it. He’s unused to it, sure, but that’s not a good reason for the uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest. It’s just that he thought he had them all figured out by now - years after Blue Lock and years playing against each other and years spending off season and holidays together - that for Isagi, Meguru, and Rin, everything started with football, and everything else just an extension of that.
Isagi still remembers the full-body thrill and electricity in his eyes when he first played with Meguru then Rin, and he knows they feel the same, how they’d each become the others’ maker and monster the way they all came alive at Blue Lock. Isagi craves it, even now. The thrill, the obsession, the falling hand-in-hand, headlong down into football. It’s not romance, but it makes Isagi sing. He wants to devour Meguru and Rin with it, and he wants them to want the same too. He isn’t so selfless to pretend otherwise, even as he insists, It’ll always be football first and I care about you too, but it’s not the same. and I’m sorry.
Isagi realizes too late that choosing football over Meguru and Rin is useless. He still has far to go with football, and he’ll never forget that first love, but he’s grown into himself some more and accepts too that he can’t envision a life without Meguru and Rin - if it’s not too late to ask for it. It never crosses Isagi’s mind that Meguru and Rin might want and have something outside of football, and outside of Isagi, much less with each other.
In the corners of those moments between monsters, between Isagi’s rejection of them and the realization of his vision, when it’s just Meguru and Rin, wanting starts taking shape, one that ripples so quietly that Isagi doesn’t notice the splash until he’s drenched. All the times Isagi had thought that Meguru pushed Rin too far and Isagi had to intervene; all those times when Rin made those cutting remarks at Meguru’s clinginess and Isagi had snapped at him to chill; all those times when Isagi had thought they’d never really gotten along and found Meguru oddly quiet or Rin so expressive in the aftermath; when he’d found them at each other’s throats in the locker rooms after a match between Barcha and PXG, wrists in hands … take a turn in his head and Isagi now realizes - oh. Oh.
Isagi kicks and sprints after his shot, streaking across the night sky. The air burns, and he wants to scream the frustrated monster out of his throat, but he doesn’t. He’s not a teenager anymore, so he can handle the bruised fruit of his thinking with more dignity.
At the same time, Isagi wishes he could throw himself into the sun. His mind obsesses over how he should’ve said something and how there’s nothing to say. It’s not like Isagi’s in love with them, and Meguru and Rin know that too. There’s no bravado and no pretense and no distance between them.
But it is different. Isagi exhales through his gritted teeth, looking up to the vast sky. And he doesn’t hate it, but he can’t say the same for himself.
The Barcelona night sky watches over him, stars twinkling their condolences, and Isagi thinks of Meguru and Rin back at Meguru’s apartment. Isagi and Rin arrived a few days ago and have been sleeping over at Meguru’s place while waiting for their actual holiday trip to start. Meguru insisted on taking them around and treating them to all the newest foods Barcelona had to offer. Isagi had gone back with them after their 3D-printed dinner, which had been when Meguru swayed on his feet, face flushed and eyes shining, happily announcing “We’re hooking up!” to Rin’s displeasure and Isagi’s shock. Before Isagi could get a word out, Rin had then dragged Meguru into the bedroom “to have a word”, and Isagi didn’t quite know what to do, his mind immediately latching on to dissect what the hell just happened, so he’d tugged on a light jacket, grabbed his sneakers, and now found himself kicking his football at one in the morning, a few blocks down from Meguru’s apartment.
Later, he’ll blame the jetlag and pent-up energy from all the recent traveling for his frustration (because, his monster taunts, how could they not tell him? how could he not see this coming?), but for now he lets his mind fixate on Meguru and Rin and him and football and kicks and kicks and kicks.
Isagi loves football, Meguru, and Rin. Not in any specific order but with the same deep hunger that‘s never been sated. It’s not a romantic love, but it fills him up and pours through him. If Meguru and Rin were puzzle pieces fit together in their own corner of Isagi’s mind, then Isagi is water poured on top of the whole thing, always shifting, flowing through the cracks between pieces, filling in the empty spaces.
And it’s fine, at the start. When the three of them go through Blue Lock together, launch their football careers, and accept that their fates are intertwined. But, Isagi soon finds water doesn’t fill a puzzle substantially, not like a proper piece. It smothers. It clings. And water can rot puzzles.
That’s why Isagi doesn’t ask Meguru and Rin to be with him, why he doesn’t say anything about his future hopes of the three of them together, has only hoped that they want the same as him because as much as he thinks he’d like to, Isagi can’t offer the same to them.
The feeling is lost to him, a series of actions and emotions that he’s carefully thought through, even understood, but never fit into himself. He can’t dig into and devour this difference, which turns into rocks in his mouth.
Isagi lets himself collapse on the grass, the feeling washing over him, finally putting a name to his grief.
One day, football will end.
Sooner or later, Meguru, Rin, and Isagi will end too.
He wishes to the night sky, that vast cold and dark space awaiting him.
I want more. I want it all.
I want to be the one who chooses.
🎄❄️🎅🎁🌟🎄
Eventually, after a week of forgetting to knock and slipping on hazard pools of clothing, of fielding unnecessary but concerned calls from their mutual friends, of being tackled by Meguru’s good morning hugs and handed a cool water bottle from Rin and inevitably playing football and more football because Isagi refuses to waste any time, the shock and envy and not-aloneness around Isagi blurs into the surrounding air, becoming familiar and breathable again.
Things go back to normal, which is good, because Isagi doesn’t want to spend his off-season at sea, unmoored without his best friends.
Rin had gotten them Mediterranean Christmas cruise tickets, the trip embarking from Barcelona, unceremoniously inviting them both when he emailed them the confirmation numbers two months earlier. Isagi had just finished dinner when he’d been idly checking his personal inbox and caught Rin’s surprise buried beneath several days worth of emails. He video-called Rin immediately, who sent him to voicemail and texted back:
Rin: What.
Isagi: The cruise tix. Pick up.
Isagi rolled his eyes and video-called again, and this time, Rin picked up.
“What if I already made plans?” Isagi asked Rin.
Rin raised an eyebrow.
“Ok, fair.” Isagi would’ve spent the time with Rin and Meguru anyway, either in Europe or Japan, visiting their families. He mused, “Well, I guess we won’t be seeing our parents and Sae this year then.”
“If you don’t want to.” Rin had responded noncommittally, which probably meant that Isagi would have to plan visiting his parents around this Christmas cruise trip.
“Well, what if we didn’t check our emails? You know Meguru doesn’t.” Isagi pointed out.
“Only idiots don’t check their emails.” Rin scoffed. Isagi opened his mouth, but before he could defend Meguru, Rin had cut in. “Come or not, I don’t care.”
Isagi had laughed at that and Rin had hung up on him. They didn’t talk about it again, but after that call, Rin had then forwarded his flight information to Isagi and Meguru, and so Isagi had returned the favor.
(When Isagi calls Meguru later to double check he’s seen Rin’s emails, Meguru says, “Oh yeah! Rin-chan called me about that a few days ago”, and Isagi laughs doubly hard. Mr. Itoshi I don’t care, my ass.)
🎄❄️🎅🎁🌟🎄
Meguru is boisterous in tugging his suitcase along, the yellow sticker-plastered bag skipping and rattling to his steps. Rin on the other hand keeps a steady pace, his gaze sweeping over Meguru then Isagi, as if he’s making sure they’re all on track to board the ship. Isagi waves at him, and Rin nods back, his head turning back towards Meguru. Isagi’s not sure who speeds up or slows down, but the gentle tide of the crowd inevitably guide Rin and Meguru to each other’s sides.
“Give me that, you’re going to ruin your suitcase, idiot.” Rin sighs, and Meguru happily leaves his luggage to Rin’s responsibility. Rin’s always been soft like that, thinking that no one can see his heart behind a few barbed words.
Isagi follows them. Usually, he’d be on Meguru’s other side, holding his other hand, but today, the crowd feels tighter around him, so he lingers behind, just observing. He doesn’t know how he missed this whole hooking up thing happening. The three of them have been rivals and friends since Blue Lock and the years after. He remembers a younger Rin who held himself apart, both too good and not enough to offer himself to anyone or anything. He also remembers a younger Meguru who wholly threw himself into everything, sometimes so exuberantly scattered that by the time the colors quieted, his own golden self was made murky. Somewhere along the way, Rin started softening like stone smoothed by sea waves, and Meguru started painting his own edges more clearly. Isagi’s not sure where he misses a step, stumbling as his heart briefly leaps into his throat, but he thinks it makes sense now.
🎄❄️🎅🎁🌟🎄
“You’re avoiding us,” Meguru pouts, flopping over on Isagi and crossing his arms.
It’s their first night on the cruise, and after a day of exploring the ship and the area around Barcelona’s port, Isagi, Meguru, and Rin have finally settled down into their king sized bed. The sea’s rocky motion has settled into a gentle lull, and Isagi’s mind has also started wandering into sleep until Meguru’s words yank him back into reality. There’s no escape. Isagi sighs, firmly sandwiched between Meguru and Rin, not for the first time wondering why he’s stuck in the middle.
“I just spent the whole day with you both, Meguru.” Isagi replies, looking past Meguru’s eyes and into the storm his mind is whirling up. He knows, of course, that’s not what Meguru means at all, but he just needs a moment to gather himself, and he can’t do that when Meguru’s eyes are drilling into him, hot, persistent, and inescapable like the sun. Isagi has never won a staring contest against him. However, turning to his side and meeting Rin’s eyes is just as bad. He’s an impassive wall, forcing Isagi to come up against the truth.
I want more than I can have, but it still wouldn’t be enough.
Isagi screws his eyes shut, his feelings stuck in his throat.
Meguru slowly draws patterns on Isagi’s arms. He knows that Isagi’s mind sometimes works faster than he can react and that ultimately, it slows him. It’s a lot unlike how he usually is when playing football. Isagi appreciates it, and he knows that he can’t leave them hanging for long too.
“I was surprised, that’s all.” Isagi’s words slowly appear, “I had a lot to think about. I was frustrated and confused. I think? Not because I don’t think you guys aren’t good together! You are - I just…”
Wanted it to be us - just not in the same way - but it’d be enough. We’d all be together and happy, even when we can’t play together anymore, it’d still be us. But even for Isagi, who can sometimes be shameless in demanding what he wants, that’s a bit too egotistical to say out loud, especially now.
“It’s not the same.” Isagi finishes weakly, color rising to his cheeks, his nonchalance with the whole affair betrayed by his inescapable monstrous heart. “It’s not that I don’t want to - I just don’t know how to talk about it.”
Meguru chews on his lip thoughtfully quiet. He leans his head against Isagi’s chest and looks up at him, eyes shining. “We love you too.”
“I know, Meguru.” Isagi gives his best friend a small smile, even though he doesn’t know what that means. Is that a fact? A promise? A future? He doesn’t want anyone to be worried about him, but already, the image of a future where their closeness inevitably cools creeps around Isagi’s shoulder. Meguru and Rin will have each other, but what else is waiting for Isagi when he no longer has football, Meguru, and Rin? When there’s nothing and no one left to devour?
“Stop overthinking it.” Rin cuts in, no doubt honing in on Isagi’s silent spiral.
“Who said I was overthinking it?” Isagi scowls at Rin who pinches his side.
“Obviously you were, dumbass.” Rin moves to pinch Isagi again, but Meguru stops their bickering with a solid chop to their heads, proclaiming, “No fighting when I’m on top of Yoichi!”
“Anyway, how did this finally happen?” Isagi finally asks, the ache in his chest giving in to curiosity because if Isagi can’t devour something, he has to at least understand it.
“We started hooking up - hmm… it’s been awhile, huh, Rin-chan!” Meguru laughs, his cheeks blooming.
“We’re not hooking up.” Rin interjects.
“Still denying it, Rin-chan? Yoichi already knows, so it’s no biggie.” Meguru teases back, no sign of his lightheartedness masking a quiet hurt the way it would’ve years ago.
“We’re not hooking up because we’re dating, dumbass. Since last year, after you got your contract renewal from Barcha.” Rin grunts, and Isagi almost chuckles at how petulant he looks except Meguru also looks surprised by the news, which surprises Rin in turn, “Why the fuck do you look surprised?”
Isagi’s mind whirs, ready to do damage control if need be, but Meguru manages this one himself. Something which, when Isagi turns this moment over in his mind later after Meguru and Rin have both fallen asleep, makes him feel both fond and rueful. (Just another sign they don’t need you between them already, his monster taunts.) How egoistic of him.
“Nope, not surprised, really, but you have to tell me these things, Rin-chan!” Meguru’s not-surprise softens into a goopy smile and before Rin can turn away to hide his flushed face, he rolls over Isagi onto Rin and squeezes Rin’s hand.
“I‘ve always liked Rin-chan.” Meguru grins, and Isagi feels the floor sweep out from under him. “And Rin-chan fell for my super dribbling skills and good looks, of course! But he never made a move, and so here I am, thinking that it’s just me who likes Rin-chan like this! And, y’know, maybe all this hooking up is just good exercise for his heart and feels good - anyway, that’s how it is until this time Rin-chan sees Eita flirting with me at that showcase in that one fancy hotel, and he comes over, takes me by the hand to his room, and -”
“Enough, you little monster.” Rin slaps his free hand over Meguru’s mouth, then quickly pulls away a few seconds later, wiping his hand on Meguru’s shirt, to which Meguru wiggles out of his shirt and throws it at Rin’s face, laughing then sticking his tongue out.
“Anyway, do you think that’s what you want too?” Meguru asks suddenly, his face a bit flushed, and his wavy hair all mussed up. He tilts his head to the side towards Isagi, “Is that why you were jealous?”
“Huh?” Isagi can’t imagine wanting someone to lick his hand when he already has Meguru for that, nor can he imagine wanting someone to slap his hand over his mouth, whose sole honor belongs to Rin. “I have you and Rin.”
Rin makes a strangled noise.
“And football.” Isagi adds, knowing it’s a non-answer, an obvious given, but not a relationship, even though it holds the same nature of connection, passion, dedication, and future for Isagi. For all that he had subconsciously envisioned a future where this would be something he could share with Meguru and Rin until their legs and brains and hearts stopped moving, Isagi thinks that he’s starting to make peace with it being a unique relationship of his own undertaking. It doesn’t feel so much like grief now.
Like everyone keeps saying, like Isagi keeps telling himself, it’s not like he’s actually losing Meguru and Rin.
“Noooo, I mean hooking up! Or a relationship! Dating?” Meguru persists, squishing Isagi’s cheeks together. “Is that something you want?”
“I don’t think so…” Isagi trails off. He has to think through it, lay the pieces he’s started gathering since that night in Barcelona down in his mind. Meguru and Rin are hooking up. Monsters, football, desire. Peace, loneliness, forever.
Sure. He’s jealous, but the feeling is at the edge of an endless abyss. Isagi can’t imagine stumbling into it only to find out it was sexual frustration or frustration with being single all along because that doesn’t even come close to what he feels for Meguru and Rin. It’s incomparable to his selfish loss and loneliness. He can’t imagine sleeping with anyone or going on dates, bringing flowers and talking about their favorite football teams, growing domestic and old together, and calling it a day. If someone were to give him their heart, Isagi might kick it like a football. He might really hurt someone, but worse is not knowing if he’d hate that or want it like nothing else in the world.
It can only be Meguru and Rin, but they already have each other, and it’s not something Isagi can ask of them when Isagi doesn’t understand wanting and love outside of his greedy football-obsessed heart.
“Well, whatever happens, you have me and Rin.” Meguru promises, lacing his free hand with Isagi’s own, and Isagi lets a small smile out.
“I know.”
🎄❄️🎅🎁🌟🎄
Existential crisis aside, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to meet someone who’s into football, find another monster to chase, another monster to devour. A new obsession to tide his mind over and transition into a world where eventually, there might not be a Meguru, Rin, and Isagi.
Isagi stares at Rin expectantly.
“Are you asking me to tell you if you want to go fuck someone?” Rin asks bluntly.
They’re adults. Professionals with jobs. Jobs playing professional football. Obviously, if Isagi wanted to fuck someone, he would, which he just as much says to Rin. Should is another question, one which Isagi brings up to Rin who stares at him, eyes narrowed.
“Don’t ask me stupid questions.” Rin pauses, “What about Kaiser-“
Horrified that Rin would even bring up Kaiser, Isagi throws Rin’s words back at him, “Don’t ask me stupid questions.”
That’s how Isagi finds himself seated at a bar, drinking warm beer.
Because Isagi may have been dealing with extremely life-altering, future-visioning changes, but that doesn’t mean he’s at that low of a point to - ugh. Kaiser.
Fuck.
Isagi’s not entirely sure how these things work, but surely, if he sits here long enough, someone will sit next to him and start a conversation. The cruise ship only has so many options by way of bars, but surely a sports bar with cheery Christmas tunes is a good place to find someone who loves football.
Despite his growing prominence in the football world, Isagi still maintains a sense of anonymity, his style and demeanor easily overlooked by most everyone, except the most diehard of fans. Isagi doubts that they’ll find him on this Mediterranean Christmas cruise sailing from Barcelona past France to Rome. And as expected, the guy who slides into the seat next to him doesn’t recognize him.
“Heya,” The stranger smiles, angling his body towards Isagi, his voice emanating stars. Obviously, this guy knows he’s… charming. His hair is brown and swept to the side. Objectively, he’s easy on the eyes.
“Hey,” Isagi turns towards him too, forcing his body to relax, look casual and confident. This stranger doesn’t need to know this is his first time doing this whole talking to strangers at bars thing. He’s always had Meguru and Rin before.
Stop that. Isagi forces a smile. All he needs to do is fake his bravado, until he can figure out what he wants from this stupid excursion. Or whatever Meguru and Rin said.
“Do you follow football?“ Isagi asks, tilting his head very casually towards the screen where a match is playing. He pushes through the awkwardness of this new situation with a smile. Isagi wouldn’t say he’s bad with people, but right now, he’s free falling and worse still, he can tell that this stranger sees it.
Is there such thing as metavision for chatting strangers up in bars?
The stranger laughs at Isagi’s question, wiping a crocodile tear from his eye.
Isagi’s face burns. He doesn’t think he’d been that funny. Luckily, the stranger seems to sense Isagi’s embarrassment and calms down, “It’s nothing, it’s nothing. You remind me of my junior. He’s got nothing on his mind but volleyball.”
The stranger flashes what Isagi thinks is meant as a cheeky wink and introduces himself as “Tooru”. The conversation carries on.
And it’s not that bad.
Tooru leans in when Isagi starts getting really into football, and in the middle of Isagi relaying how Noel Noa outmaneuvered his opposite, Tooru asks, “Wanna head back to my place and watch some 4k clips of Noel Noa’s greatest plays with me?”
Isagi brightens. “Really? I’d -“
“He’s not going to watch 4k clips of Noel Noa’s greatest plays with you,“ a strangely familiar voice interrupts. Isagi turns to his left and meets a very familiar and unexpected face. Even at 25 years old, Sae’s face remains as softly angular and perfectly moisturized as it was at 18. Much like Rin, Sae’s eyes are equal parts coolly disinterested and judgmental. But where Isagi can read the minute glimmers in Rin’s eyes and pick apart the smallest of twinges in his jaw, he looks at Sae and sees an uncharted sea.
Sae takes a sip of his drink, what looks to be a fruity little concoction, probably a salted kombucha with vodka, and says to the other man who’s still hovering by Isagi, “And he’s not going to fuck you.”
Isagi coughs into his elbow, flushing, and Tooru’s face goes blank, he pouts, then laughs. Sae only fixes him with a cold stare.
With a sorry wave, the stranger leaves but not before telling Isagi - “Call me, Yoichi-chan!”
Isagi waves to be friendly, but he doesn’t mention his phone plan doesn’t cover being out in the middle of the sea. He’s not sure he likes Tooru enough to follow up on that call.
When Isagi turns back to the bar, Sae is still slowly sipping his drink. Isagi asks him, not really expecting an answer since Sae’s best known for ignoring people, “What are you doing here and not Madrid? Or Kamakura?”
“Where do you think Rin got those cruise tickets from?” Sae replies, looking completely bored — but clearly just interested enough that he’s still talking to Isagi, which peaks Isagi’s interest in return.
Rin’s cryptic response several months ago about not seeing Sae or their parents on the cruise makes more sense now. Isagi could roll his eyes. Later, he learns through Sae’s well-timed silences and short responses (plus some good guesses on his part) that Sae had flown into Barcelona several days ago before their trip and checked into a hotel. There had been so many chances for him and Isagi to cross paths on the streets and ignore each other under Rin’s careful eye, as they usually did, only for them to finally and spectacularly meet on this Christmas cruise ship. What a Christmas miracle.
“And how do you know he wouldn’t have watched Noel Noa’s clips with me?” Isagi challenges.
“I doubt he’s even heard of Noel Noa before you.” Sae says, half-shrugging. He doesn’t say it, but Isagi can feel Sae thinking And he’s not that great anyway, even though he’s objectively the best striker in the world right now, even nearly a decade later. Sae did always think himself above others’ opinions, “And he was obviously flirting with you, moron.”
Before Isagi can make a snide Ok, and? remark back, Sae continues, surprisingly proving himself to be the more talkative and critical between both Itoshi brothers, “He’s a pro volleyball player, probably just looking for a quick holiday fling.” Sae sips his drink, and says in his cool judgmental tone, “If you’re into that.”
“And how do you know? Did he flirt with you too?” Isagi grins, wanting to poke a chip into Sae’s carefully constructed armor.
“I study other sports.” Sae shrugs, every word coming out of his mouth a blunted barb, “You could learn a lot from it.”
Isagi doesn’t rise to the bait. He hasn’t lived all these years with Meguru and Rin pushing his buttons to just crumble in the face of Itoshi Sae.
“And what if I wanted to fuck him?” Isagi smiles, raising an eyebrow, his eyes daring Sae for what - he’s not even entirely sure yet.
“How lukewarm,” Sae doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his eyes back to his near empty glass. And Isagi is about to scoff that that’s such a lukewarm answer when Sae flicks his eyes back up to Isagi. “When you could be here, talking to me about football instead.”
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Unsurprisingly, Sae’s version of talking about football is criticizing football. He’s vehement in his disappointment and neutrality, but equally passionate in how he’s analyzed each team and players’ flaws. Sae’s only just finished going through his laundry list of why Noel Noa is overrated, what about Luna’s piss poor attitude is obnoxious to deal with, and which players on his team he would trade for a grain of salt on his kombucha margarita.
“And, Ronaldo’s better than Messi. People always get that wrong.” Sae continues over the soft instrumental Christmas pieces - his voice like the brunt of waves against shoreline. He’s taken Isagi out to the deck, where they wandered through Santa’s village, under the fake snow and twinkling lights. They’re both now standing by the holly-wreathed railing, looking out to see as their ship makes its way to Palma de Mallorca. Isagi’s impressed by the level of commitment to the Christmas decor on this cruise, but much less impressed with Sae’s hot and very wrong take.
“No way. Everyone knows Messi’s better. His dribbling is magic, his metavision is insane, even other top players say he’s better-” Isagi insists. Next to Noel Noa, Messi’s one of his favorites.
“Even better than Nazario? Messi only has better branding,” Sae scoffs, “No wonder Japan hasn’t won the World Cup if its strikers have such bad taste.”
Isagi ignores Sae’s jabs, something he’s caught on very quickly, if he’s going to have any kind of conversation with him.
“Nazario can score goals, but Messi can play a game. He’s a striker and a conductor, and he’s always in the right place,” Isagi’s voice melts into awe, “Nazario’s only more offensive, but Messi’s got it all. And his burgers are great.”
“You only like Messi because he plays like Bachira.” Sae rolls his eyes, “But Rin tries to play like Nazario. Are you saying you don’t like him as much?”
“Wh - what?!” Isagi splutters, “That’s not -“
The smallest of smiles grace Sae’s lips, and it takes Isagi a second to realize Sae, Itoshi Sae, is teasing him. Isagi stares back at him, speechless, his brain lighting up fireworks.
“What, am I wrong?”
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“Say that again.” Isagi demands to Sae who sits across from Isagi at their holiday craft table, upright and focused, manhandling his piece of the gingerbread roof. Hanging out with Sae has been… nice, actually. Sae’s always been something of an unknowable entity for Isagi, both as Japan’s jewel and Rin’s older brother. They’ve met before at the U-20 match, played a few matches in leagues against each other, and exchanged greetings on the rare chance Sae’s home for the holidays and Isagi’s visiting the Itoshi household, but they’ve never really hung out like this before. Isagi’s been wanting to get into his head for awhile, and even though Sae gives him very little to work with, Isagi thinks he’s starting to understand Sae.
Like how despite as blank as Sae’s face looks, Isagi can tell now after hanging out with him a couple of days, that Sae hates this. But he’s also surprisingly not bad at it. There’s a high art to making gingerbread houses, and Sae, ever the genius, has figured it out. The way he meticulously approaches the construction of their gingerbread house reminds Isagi of Rin who’d be similarly diligent in his work and of Meguru who would now be dumping cup-fulls of sprinkles on the fresh icing. Isagi forces his mind back to Sae and leans in, holding out his freshly decorated piece to Sae who’s grimaced at every decorated piece Isagi’s offered him so far. Isagi grins, placing a set of graham cracker wings on their gingerbread castle dragon.
“Fishing for compliments?” Sae scoffs, ignoring Isagi trying to push his buttons and glossing over the fact that he had just named Isagi as a striker he wanted for Madrid Real, as if he hadn’t just extended an unofficial offer to Isagi a few minutes earlier, “Don’t be pathetic. I only said I’d rather work with you than Kaiser, which says more about him than you.”
“Yeah, like the fact you’d choose me over Bastard’s crown clown?” Isagi grins, plopping a gumdrop on the icing coated gingerbread flooring. “Maybe you do have taste after all. Didn’t your club make an offer to Kaiser?”
“Whatever. Your NEL performance left a lot to be desired,” Sae says plainly, “It’s nothing to get a big head about, but at least you’ve improved.”
Their holiday craft table is littered with red and white sprinkles, gumdrops, and cookie crumbs, which Sae sweeps to one side with a napkin before grabbing another star-shaped cookie to ice. He passes one to Isagi too, and their conversation quiets.
“Why’d you choose me then?” Isagi blurts out. There’s still a lot that he doesn’t get about Sae too - namely, his interest in Isagi. They talk about football, about Rin sometimes, even Meguru sparingly, but Isagi gets the feeling that Sae’s not coming back for the conversation.
Sae stares at Isagi much too seriously over their gingerbread house, which is slowly coming to better resemble a castle, lumpy gumdrop icing dragon included. Finally, he admits, “You remind me of myself.”
When people say that about Isagi, they usually reminisce of a boyish wonder and intensity, of long-lost childhood dreams they gave up and which Isagi clung onto, or of persistent logical obsession. Isagi wonders which Sae means, or if it’s something else. He wonders if it means that Sae is as interested in him as he is interested in Sae.
“You’re what I could’ve been,” Sae continues, “If I weren’t a genius.”
That makes Isagi laugh because who says that? No wonder Rin had the world’s biggest chip on his shoulder in the early years of their friendship. Rin had warned Isagi that Sae kind of just… says whatever, that he’s got a bit of an attitude without really meaning to, and Isagi takes it in stride, Sae’s thorns making Isagi want to dig into him even more, “Tell me more then, boy genius.”
Sae looks at Isagi, consideringly, and Isagi gets the feeling that whatever Sae says next will be devastating and delivered in his cool neutral tone, “You don’t know? If I hadn’t made Rin into the monster he is, you would’ve. Now, you’ve taken what I made and made him worse.”
“Yeah…” Isagi’s vaguely heard of this before - the crushing disappointment and bitter loneliness which shaped Rin into the machine he is on-field. He does have an inkling of how his presence and their friendly rivalry impacted Rin, but Isagi’s surprised that Sae would attribute this much of Rin’s development to him and that he’d consider it a similarity between them.
“You know that football is a cruel obsession. You know the price of reality and being ordinary among your peers and still wanting as much as they do and more. Whatever Rin goes on about football being a battlefield, he doesn’t get it. You make him get it.”Sae says, assessing Isagi, “I want to know how you did that.”
(And what’s stopping you now? Isagi’s monster taunts.)
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Later, when Isagi walks under the high ceiling atrium with Sae, he stops to take it all in. The traditional twinkling lights spiral around the columns, darting in and out of ribbons and wreaths, ultimately creating a beautiful constellation of stars across the ceiling. The lights add more magic to the Christmas decor scattered through the open space. Sae keeps walking.
“Why would you book a Christmas cruise if you don’t like any of this?” Isagi asks once he catches up to Sae. Sae doesn’t seem particularly charmed by all the Christmas decor of oversized ornaments, decorated trees, gingerbread houses - not even the cute balloon dogs dressed as reindeer and elves which Isagi knows won Rin over.
“I wanted to meet you.” Which doesn’t really answer the Christmas question, but Sae’s response surprises Isagi and lights his brain up.
“Just to make me that unofficial offer earlier?” Isagi hazards a guess, though he seriously doubts that Sae wants him to play with him on Real Madrid that badly, “That’s a pretty elaborate scheme.”
Sae doesn’t bother answering that, instead walking into the elevator and hitting the button for his floor. He lets the door close on Isagi, his eyes daring him to jump in.
Isagi doesn’t. He offers a small wave to Sae through the glass door, and Sae looks back at him, unimpressed, his form slowly disappearing as the elevator rises through the floors. Isagi can catch up later without getting his body sliced in half, something which Rin is fond of reminding always happens in his B-rated horror films. He thinks about how if he’d been with Meguru and Rin, Rin would’ve held it open. He thinks about how Meguru would’ve waited for him, so that he wouldn’t be gruesomely sliced in half alone. He thinks about them.
🎄❄️🎅🎁🌟🎄
“Stop following me.” Sae steps off the elevator, brushing past Isagi. Despite Sae’s invitation to talk more about football, he doesn’t seek Isagi out. But, he makes it easy to find him. This early in the morning, Sae’s headed towards the ship’s buffet for his post-yoga morning yogurt and kombucha.
“Stop using this elevator.” Isagi matches his pace, hardly able to keep the excitement from his voice, “Guess what? There’s a -“
“There’s a football field on this ship.” Sae replies. “You’re forgetting who booked your ticket.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“No wonder they didn’t call you the brain of Blue Lock.” Sae never pulls his punches. It was bewildering when he was a kid; cruel when he was a teen; and annoying as hell when he’s 25. Isagi’s glad that Rin doesn’t hang on his brother’s words or lack of words anymore.
Isagi ignores Sae’s comment. He’s found what works best with Sae is being insistent and direct, “Play with me.”
“No.”
“You’ve been complaining about every other football player,” Isagi rolls his eyes, “I want to see if you can do better.”
Sae ignores him and the cheerily waving Santa greeting breakfast goers.
Isagi smiles at the Santa Sae ignored and grabs two plates for them as Sae makes a beeline for the yogurt bar. Isagi quickens his step as Sae slows down in front of the berry selections. If being direct doesn’t work, Sae’s a sucker for challenges and rewards. “Play with me, and I’ll consider your offer.”
That gets Sae’s attention. Isagi perks up, pleasantly surprised. Sae slowly tilts his head towards Isagi and raises an eyebrow, communicating skepticism in that smooth arch.
“Are you telling me you want to join the Christmas carolers today?” Isagi asks, always game to egg on Sae, and Sae’s face goes expressively blank.
“Die.”
“Yoichi!!” Isagi’s head snaps towards Meguru’s voice and finds him beaming and waving at them. His pulse catches for a moment before Isagi waves back. “Sae-chan!!”
“Meguru, morning,” Isagi grins as Meguru makes his way over. He must’ve gone to the DIY Ugly Christmas Sweater event because today’s outfit is a shockingly fuzzy green sweater with splatters of glitter and patches of colorful shapes in what Isagi thinks is meant to look like a Christmas tree. Sae refused that event because the sweaters provided by the cruise weren’t cashmere and the ones he brought were too nice to be destroyed by holiday gremlin antics.
“Like what you see?” Meguru grins and spins around for him.
Isagi offers Meguru a smile and pleased hum. It’s really cute. He tried to say so, but the words are stuck in his throat, and instead, he asks, “Does Rin have one too?” which somehow makes him feel worse.
“Whaddya think? I couldn’t get it on him fast enough. Anyway, we’ve got a table over there - come join us!!” Meguru must sense hesitation in Isagi because he clings onto his arm and tugs, the shape of him burning hot against Isagi’s side, “Come on!!! They’re doing Christmas movie breakfast trivia!”
Isagi looks around for Sae who’s finally decided on his choice of yogurt and fruit for the morning. Christmas movie trivia probably isn’t how he wants to start his day - but to Isagi’s surprise, Sae looks Meguru over and says, “Fine.”
Back at their booth, Meguru asks, eyes sparkling, “So what’ve you guys been up to?? Have you done any of the Christmas activities onboard? Christmas cocktail making? Christmas book club? Build a fake-snow-snowman yet?”
“We made a gingerbread house the other day,” Isagi offers, and Sae steals a grape off his plate.
“We saw that!! Your gingerbread castle - with the dragon and gumdrop clouds and big towers!” Meguru exclaims, “I wanted to steal it!! How’d you even get it to stand like that?”
“Better question is, why the hell are you two hanging out?” Rin asks, his voice low and suspicious. Rin’s eyes map out Isagi’s face, as if the crease of his eyebrows and flush in his cheeks will give him his answer. When Isagi flounders for a response that isn’t your brother’s a good distraction or I need to get over myself, Rin’s brows furrow. “Are you… okay?”
Isagi’s eyes widen. Rin and Sae might be on sharing-cruise-ticket terms, but apparently, there’s still little room for trust, much less affection between them. That Rin is looking out for him, even though he really doesn’t need to… surprises Isagi. That Rin thinks hanging out with Sae means something must be wrong coaxes a snort from Isagi. It’s surprisingly accurate, though not for the reasons he’s thinking.
“I’m okay, thanks Rin,” Isagi reassures him, “Better than okay.” Which is a bit overkill, but he doesn’t want Rin to worry about him.
Rin slowly nods and takes a closer look at Isagi and Sae, sitting side-by-side in the booth, and Isagi can feel the gears in Rin’s mind spinning… to the last time they had spoken, to Isagi and Sae making a gingerbread house together, to now, having breakfast and stealing food off each other’s plates. Immediately, his concern shifts into something heavier (not unlike when you found out about him and Meguru, his monster unhelpfully supplies), eyes narrowing. Rin hisses from across the table, his voice just low enough over Meguru’s chatter, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re fu-“
Isagi furiously shakes his head, putting his finger to his lips, mentally sending shut up, shut up, shut up as hard as he can to Rin.
Rin glares back at him, a signature don’t fuck with me look, one which Isagi’s intimately familiar with, “He’s your football hookup?” and Isagi gives him a half-shrug half-nod.
“Something like that,” Isagi says, and Rin’s expression twists. Isagi doesn’t bother correcting him because the truth feels somehow more pathetic. Yeah, I’ve been hanging out with your brother because I can’t talk to you or Meguru. It’s a bad habit of his to shove his ugly feelings into a neat box. He does it around his parents, who love him but don’t understand him, and now with Rin and Meguru too. Isagi stabs his fork into his eggs, sneaking a glance to Sae, who’s still engaged by Meguru grilling him on Christmas movie trivia as practice, “I think he’s enjoying his time with me.”
“… Dumbass.” Rin says under his breath, “Should’ve just gone with Kaiser.”
“Screw you,” Isagi kicks Rin under the table. If he’d previously thought a new monster could replace the ones he had found and made himself, Isagi’s quickly dispelled that notion. Sae’s brilliant, fun and intense and strange, but he doesn’t fill Isagi or his monster up.
“Fine.” Rin presses his lips into a thin line, “Fine, if he makes you happy. Or whatever.”
And Isagi, who likes to get the last word in, which is another bad habit of his, responds firmly, “He does.”
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“Fine.” Sae stops in his tracks, “Let’s play football.”
After their devastating Christmas movie trivia defeat (The losing question: What is the Polar Express conductor’s name?), they’ve been wandering the ship, Isagi pointing out all of the playfully inviting signs advertising some kind of holiday workshop or event as they walk. Sae shoots them all down. No Secret Santa because why the fuck would I buy a gift for a stranger; no Christmas cookie decorating because we already made a gingerbread house and I’m not doing that again; and definitely no caroling because Sae hates fun.
“Really?” Isagi brightens, secretly relieved he doesn’t have to try pitching holiday glitter painting to Sae.
“Let’s go, little monster.” Sae crosses his arms, waiting for Isagi to lead the way.
The football field spans the whole top floor, except for the deck where players can leave their belongings, lounge, and rent shoes and footballs. Isagi handles the exchange as Sae watches on, and Isagi wishes that he’d brought his own things, but as soon as he steps on the field in his rented cleats, the artificial turf grass slightly crunches beneath him, and he forgets his regrets.
In a few hours, the football field will be converted into an ice skating rink, so they better make the most of it.
“Come on, boy genius.” Isagi grins, “Show me your ego.”
Sae doesn’t bother giving Isagi a response, just waits for him to start the game.
It’s been years since Sae’s played as a striker - years since he’s had the desire to be the forward leading the charge. Isagi wonders if he misses it, if his dream really has changed or if it’s only settled.
Isagi stills, lets his metavision expand the field, washing over Sae, and he kicks off.
As Isagi expected, Sae is brutal. His more experienced metavision eyes are unrelenting as they try to overpower Isagi’s own metavision, taking in all inputs from the way his breath shakes out to the way his ankle slightly turns to try shooting the ball past Sae. Sae meets Isagi head-on, just lightly tapping the ball out of Isagi’s reach and sprinting away on the opposite side. Isagi chases him, each step and each pump of blood through him surging through the tangle of thoughts in his chest. Isagi flits around Sae’s blindspots. Sae is intense and overwhelming, but he doesn’t play like a monster.
They’re at 2-1 when they take a water break. Isagi sips on his bottle and nods along, making mental notes to Sae’s stray comments on the holes in his play. Sae is hardly sweating, but he lightly dabs his face with his towel anyway, rubs some more sunscreen on, and pushes back his red hair, and Isagi has the silly thought that Sae looks like he’s modeling for some advertisement.
“Yoichi, Sae-chan, surprise!” Meguru yells, and Isagi startles, then waves at him. They’re truly monsters cut from the same cloth. If Isagi had thought to check out the football field despite all the other cruise ship activities, there was no way Rin and Meguru wouldn’t too. Meguru waves back to them from across the field, where he’s just finished lacing up his own pair of rented cleats. He runs over to them, beaming, and Rin follows.
“What are you doing here?” Sae asks directly in lieu of a greeting.
“Nice to see you too, asshole.” Rin scowls with some grim determination, and Meguru sticks his tongue out, “We’re here to kick your ass and steal Yoichi back!”
Playing with Sae as his midfielder is like playing tug-of-war while sight-reading a duet with the world’s most demanding partner. If Meguru had once shot an idea into Nagi’s head, Sae’s passes are like open-ended questions with a singular perfect score response. Isagi loves it.
They’re running side-by-side, Sae’s lithe form at the corner of Isagi’s metavision, Rin shadowing them at their heels, and Meguru herding them from the outside, looking for an opening to steal the ball and turn the tables. The artificial turf is getting more slick, and Isagi furiously blinks through the rain, waiting for Sae’s pass. The water runs down his face, shortening his breath and quickening his thinking. From this angle, at this speed, in these conditions, Isagi can score a goal through Meguru. Sae won’t let Rin near him. They’ll win (he has to, his monster threatens). Isagi doesn’t know what to do if he loses.
Now!
Instead of shooting him a pass, Sae stops the ball, slowing to a stop, and announces,“I’m done.”
Isagi slides to a stop, catching himself on the grass. He’d put himself in position to steal a pass from Sae, and it takes some quick reflexes to dodge colliding with him.
Sae looks down at him and doesn’t offer him a hand up. The blunt bangs he usually styles up out of his face are starting to plaster on his forehead and the rest of his hair looks like it’s starting to deflate. He looks like the most unimpressed wet cat ever, which strangely enough is a charm point for him. Isagi rolls his eyes and gets up himself, breathing hard from the humidity in the air.
Rin stalks forward, annoyed by Sae’s Sae-isms, “What the fuck are you -“
“I’m not playing football in the rain.” Sae says in that matter-of-fact way of his. He punts the ball to Meguru, who catches it in his hands with a little oof!
“We can play again another time,” Isagi offers, putting his hand on Rin‘s shoulder, “Now that we know there’s a field here.”
“Rin-chan, Yoichi!!!” Meguru exclaims, waving his arms at them. “Sae-chan can go, but we can keep playing right?”
Isagi freezes.
Can he? Keep playing?
Meguru looks at him expectantly. Isagi knows what he should say, but when he opens his mouth, uncertainty filters his words.
“Well,” Isagi hesitates, thinking of the rain and thinking of Meguru and Rin and Sae, “It might be better if we take a break.”
Meguru doesn’t quite frown, but Isagi can feel his disappointment and confusion.
Sae clamps his hand on Isagi’s shoulder and announces, “I’m taking him.”
Huh?
“You’re stealing Yoichi again?” Meguru whines, “But he’s been playing with you all week already…”
Isagi sheepishly shrugs. Has it really been that long? No, but Sae’s verbal barbs and disinterested care have been a good distraction from… everything.
“And tonight’s movie night! You can’t miss out on the height of Christmas cinema with hot chocolate. Pinky swear.” Meguru insists, raising his voice above the drizzle.
Isagi’s not sure he’d consider the Polar Express as the height of Christmas cinema, since his personal favorite is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, but he wraps his pinky around Meguru’s own. Meguru beams, and Isagi smiles back, “I’ll see you later. Promise.”
Isagi hurries to his things, only to find that his towel is drenched as well. Rin’s own towels, tucked underneath an umbrella, are still dry, and Rin wordlessly tosses one to Isagi who smiles in thanks, but Rin only nods and looks away, his lips fighting a losing battle against frowning.
“FINE, I guess.” Meguru sighs dramatically. “Don’t let Sae-chan have his way with you!!”
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Sae’s grip on Isagi’s neck is cold.
He doesn’t loosen his grip or remove his hand, even when he fishes for the keycard in his wallet and taps it to open his room. Sae pushes Isagi inside, and Isagi stumbles, wanting to take off his shoes properly, but Sae ignores him until he has Isagi up against the hallway wall. Sae’s grip never loosens.
Now, they stand face-to-face, almost eye-to-eye, Sae coolly assessing Isagi. Similarly, Isagi looks at the man in front of who has the face of Japan’s child prodigy; his best friend’s harsh older brother; the subtly teasing stranger at the bar; the rival data analyst; the tentative friend commiserating this holiday vacation’s weirdness. Isagi dreads finding out what Sae sees in him, but he’s also morbidly curious.
“You’re hopeless.” Sae shakes his head and roughly pushes Isagi inside towards the bed, “Take your clothes off.”
Isagi obediently starts stripping the wet shirt plastered to his body off when his heart nearly stops. Wait. Wet bodies + some level of chemistry + alone in bedroom - Are they actually hooking up?!
Isagi doesn’t know if they are or if he wants to (you could, his monster supplies helpfully, to make a point), but he could. He’s thought about it, considered it, and played out scenarios of what might happen if something did happen. Logically, he and Sae work well together, and Sae pushes him to be better. Logically, they run in similar friend circles and football circles, meaning not much would actually have to change for Isagi and he’d still be involved with Meguru and Rin too. Logically, Sae is the next best monster after Meguru and Rin (but not quite, his monster cackles). Logically.
Isagi leans in, having made up his mind to throw himself into this, full fuck-it, and see if this makes up for all his confusion, when Sae takes a step back.
“Stop. This isn’t a hookup.”
The low whir of the AC stretches the silence between them.
“Oh! Oh. ” Isagi sits down on Sae’s bed, shivering, before quickly standing up, horrified that he’s getting Sae’s bed wet on top of entirely misreading the situation. Isagi mumbles, “I thought this might’ve been part of your elaborate scheme to win me over as your striker.”
Sae raises an eyebrow at that.
“Ok, I thought it made sense.” Isagi slumps, sighing. “I thought it made sense because you…”
Suddenly all the reasons he’d thought of earlier sound half-baked. Lukewarm.
“Get yourself together.” Sae tosses him a towel, then a fluffy robe. “And don’t make a mess. I’m taking a shower.”
Isagi nods, vigorously rubbing the towel across his body, taking care not to make more of a splashzone of Sae’s room, as Sae picks a few dry clothes from his closet and disappears into the bathroom.
When Sae returns from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, his skin is slightly glowing in that fresh hot shower kind of way, and Isagi envies him for that. At least Sae had been nice enough to spare him a towel and robe. He really isn’t so bad, and Isagi doesn’t know if he feels more regret for what could’ve happened than the confusion he can’t avoid. Isagi wraps the robe around himself tighter, relieved that the rain and his wet clothes aren’t clinging onto him now.
Sae ignores Isagi as he walks around his room in his fluffy robe, putting his wet clothes away in the laundry basket, then opening the mini fridge for a bottle of water. Isagi follows him with his eyes, unmoving from his seat by the window. The air feels wrong for casual conversation, but Isagi doesn’t know how long he’s supposed to stay here in Sae’s room. Something looks different about him and it isn’t until Sae finally sits on his bed across from Isagi that he realizes Sae hasn’t restyled his bangs. He looks younger. Isagi can’t look away and commits this new Sae to memory.
“I told you that you reminded me of myself,” Sae starts, slowly drumming his fingers against the bed, “How your lack of genius made you into a monster that could inspire even Rin and use him. I wanted to know how you did that,” He continues, his words twisting a familiar route in Isagi’s memory, “And I want to know what’s stopping you now. Isagi Yoichi, when did you start fearing the future?”
Isn’t this close to what Isagi asked of Chigiri too?
Years ago, so Isagi doesn’t remember exactly what he said, but he remembers how Chigiri snapped at him. Isagi now gets why Chigiri reacted the way he did because there’s no way Sae understands him and what he’s going through to assume he’s scared of the future. But, Sae’s not wrong. Him and Isagi are more alike than not.
“Is that what you see when you look at me?” Isagi asks, returning to his hallway thoughts and his dread that Sae might see past Isagi’s contentment and anxiety into something lesser.
“I changed the shape of my dream because it gave me control. But I shouldn’t have made that decision for Rin. And you don’t get to either.” Sae says, each word drawn out of him carefully like a secret. “Do you get it, little monster?”
Isagi slowly nods.
“Good. I want a striker who’s running towards something, not away from something else. You don’t need me to tell you what you’re not.” Sae responds, then continues a little more kindly, if it can be called that, “I’m not here to be your replacement for Bachira and Rin. Fix your shit with them, then come find me.”
🎄❄️🎅🎁🌟🎄
“I’ll see you at the Christmas movie event! Be there, boy genius. I’ll drag you out in that fluffy robe if I have to!” Isagi yells over his shoulder, wriggling his feet back into the rented cleats. He doesn’t wait for Sae’s response before letting the door fall behind him.
It’s still raining outside when Isagi rushes outside, his sudden urgency to find Meguru and Rin heightened by Sae’s unexpected encouragement. Only a half hour has passed since Isagi left, and knowing them both, they should still be at the football field. He still doesn’t know exactly what he wants to say, just that leaving earlier had been a mistake. Avoiding Meguru and Rin and distracting himself while he’d been trying to sort his thoughts out had been a mistake.
There’s still a part of Isagi that clings to the pre-Blue Lock version of himself, softened and accommodating yet still too uncanny and intense to truly fit in. But for years now, thanks to Blue Lock and finding his ego, Isagi’s always done what he’s wanted. Sae’s right - why did he stop? He’s never been hesitant about being a monster before. He trusts that Meguru and Rin will push back. (Nagi calls him cringe for it.)
From underneath the holly-wreathed awning, Isagi watches Meguru and Rin run against each other on the far end of the field, limbs pushing against each other, the rain melding their forms like surging tidal waves dancing and rearranging.
I should be there.
Isagi opens his mouth, but the rain and his anxiety swallow his words. The sound of it all is lost to the heartbeat in his ears. Maybe this is a conversation for after the cruise, but Isagi still can’t bring himself to walk away. The flicker of lights turn on overhead, illuminating Isagi with a bit of Christmas Eve magic, and Meguru and Rin turn. They start running towards him, passing the football between them in short bursts forward. And finally, Isagi moves, stepping into the rain, his steps and their steps closing the distance between them, football tumbling between them like a string of fate drawing tight.
The storm inside Isagi swells and crashes down hard on him when they’re close enough that his eyes meet Meguru and Rin’s. Isagi knows right then that he hasn’t been seeing clearly this whole time - that he’s let his anxiety and obsessions get the worst of him. The sky rumbles in anticipation, and the rain picks up.
I’ll find my own bravado.
“Play with me”, Isagi repeats - demands of them, asks of them, and promises to them - in one rushed but certain breath. “Play with me tonight, tomorrow, forever. Play with me until I’m done with you.”
The rain fills the space between them, and it’s not at all like ruin and rot.
Meguru breaks into a wide smile, rushing forward to jump on him, and Rin’s eyes are shining when he takes Isagi’s hand. His heart swoops, and - oh. Oh. Isagi’s not a romantic, but when he remembers this moment many years later, he remembers the sound of rain hitting the deck around them like applause.