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"Be honest with me, Rin-kun, am I a replacement for your brother?"
Rin's blood turns to ice in his veins, right then and there as he stares into Hiori's eyes, his face clouded over with an unreadable look.
"What?" His voice is embarrassingly strained, so he subtly clears his throat and straightens his back, trying not to clue Hiori in on how thrown off he is.
"What do you mean by that?"
His voice is blessedly normal this time. He still has to put conscious effort into it, because Hiori's unrelenting stare threatens to chip away at his already faltering self control, especially as he considers the implications of what Hiori's just said.
Hiori looks away, somewhere beyond Rin's shoulder, at a vision only he can see.
"I can relate to him, ya know?" Hiori starts, voice mild and unassuming.
"Who." Rin demands flatly, his skin prickling because he has a feeling he knows exactly who Hiori is referring to.
"Itoshi Sae," Hiori replies, "I can relate to him. Our... philosophies, are similar– passing to whoever is in the perfect place, whoever manages to keep up with our vision."
"And what does that have to do with anything?" Rin snaps, the burning embers of his ire steadily growing the longer Hiori's eyes gloss over him, "What does that have to do with–"
–with what you said before? Rin's words die on his tongue when the crystal blue gaze is finally turned on him. It douses him in cold water, extinguishes the fire in one go.
"During the U-20 match, I was in a difficult position," Hiori's voice gets softer, still avoiding the fucking question, and Rin would've stormed over to him had he not been rooted to the place by Hiori's smile emerging from the previously indecipherable expression.
The clouds part to reveal the sun– but there is no sunshine to be seen in the sky. Hiori's smile is as brittle as an icicle waiting to fall to the ground and shatter into shards of cold glass.
"I didn't want to pass to either Barou or Nagi– they weren't in the right spot. They wouldn't have been able to do it, so I couldn't entrust my winning vision to them. In the end, you took the decision from my hands and saved me. In that moment, I knew... that you were the striker I was looking for."
For as gentle as his voice is, as sweet and heartfelt his words–
Hiori's smile is poison ivy itself, the constricting vines wrapping around Rin's heart making it too difficult for him to breathe.
"And back in the third selection, you and I linked up so naturally that we might as well have been playing for years... Like you and your brother."
Anyone else who dared to speak to him about his brother, reminding him of the years he'd spent together by his brother's side– they'd have their head ripped off faster than they could blink.
Unfortunately, it's the one person who Rin could stand making these audacious claims, mostly because he's right, if only partially.
It doesn't mean that Rin's going to let him off the hook.
"You were the striker I was looking for... just as I was the midfielder you sought to replace your brother. Is that right, Rin-kun?"
Rin springs up from the bench, slamming a hand on the wall next to Hiori's head with a loud smack. Hiori doesn't react to the explosive movement at all, aside from an infuriating widening of his glacial smile.
"Just because you have the same skillset and the same ideology doesn't mean you're in a position to replace him." Rin's voice is low and menacing, teal eyes filled with cold fury boring into Hiori's own. "Nor does it mean I want you to replace him."
"Well, that's reassuring." Hiori remarks, conveniently overlooking the fact that Rin had forgone a direct answer to a yes or no question.
"Is it?" Rin grits his teeth, "I would've thought it was simple enough for you to figure out without me having to spell it out for you."
I thought you knew you weren't a replacement.
I thought you knew that I could never replace my brother.
I thought you knew that what we have isn't a replica of what I had with my brother, because I can never have it back, never again.
I don't want it back, I want you.
So many unsaid things, and all of them go unsaid, dissolving into the air like wisps of nothingness.
Hiori hears him still, the quiet shuffle of ocean waves crashing against the shore.
Rin's eyes are expressive, speaking more than he could ever hope to relay with his words alone.
The tension in Hiori's muscles slackens, shoulders visibly relaxing. The curl of his lips is more wry than bitter now, catching Rin's eyes as effortlessly as always.
"It's nice to have confirmation, in any case."
Hiori looks up at him, long eyelashes casting graceful shadows over his cheekbones.
It's nice to know that I'm not a replacement that can give you back your unfulfilled dreams.
It's nice to know that I'm not a medium for you to live your dreams through me.
It's nice to know that we share the same vision, once again, as always.
Hiori takes Rin's fisted hands and unclenches them. Rin lets it happen without a protest, realisation replacing the rage that abruptly drains out of his body.
It's a slight apology, a soothing balm. They both know that Hiori isn't usually the type to reach conclusions and react adversely.
(But when it comes to his parents, Hiori knows intimately–
The feeling of being a replacement for something more desired. Of being a mere medium, a shell to carry out the fantasies projected onto him, to see himself in the mirror, warped into a shape unrecognisable to his own eyes.
The image that his parents see when they look at him, golden child, trophy son, striker.
The image that for a singular moment, Hiori had assumed, seemed like the silhouette of Itoshi Sae reflected in Rin's eyes.)
Rin intertwines his hands with Hiori's, bringing his fingers to his lips, ghosting them almost teasingly over the digits.
All the anger that had been building up inside Rin over the past few minutes vanishes when he looks down at his–
Partner. Not a replacement of Sae.
Sae was never his partner.
Sae had never seen in him what Hiori had.
They'd both seen themselves for who they were, and decided that this was what they desired–
The cold calculation with which Hiori dismantled the opponent team's structure to find the perfect spot.
The hideous destruction Rin wrought in the pursue of that perfect spot.
Not Hiori the striker who fulfilled his parents' dream of being the world's best, for them.
Not Rin the striker who lived up to his brother's expectations of being the world's best, for him.
Not the Hiori and Rin who continued to walk the path leading to the broken, unfulfilled dreams of others.
"If you wanted confirmation," Rin says after what seems like a millenia of staring into each other's eyes, "You could've just asked. It would've made everything so much easier."
And Hiori dissolves into unexpected laughter, shoulders trembling with giggles as his face crumbles into a lilting smile that Rin much prefers on his face rather than the guarded, frigid smile of someone bracing against a stab wound.
"But I did, Rin-kun." Hiori smirks, "I did 'just ask'. It wasn't my fault you looked like you got caught with your hand inside a cookie jar."
Hiori's smile turns more subdued, melancholy pulling it down at the edges. When he speaks next, his voice has lowered into a whisper.
"It wasn't my fault that you looked at me like you knew I was right."
Rin scoffs, though there's no real bite to his voice. "What was I supposed to do when you asked me a question like that out of nowhere?"
And there is his smug smile again, the hints of shadowy pain evaporating just like Rin had intended.
"You should've just answered, Rin-kun. It would've made everything so much easier."
"You know what would've made things easier? If you didn't jump to conclusions the moment that thought came to you."
Hiori hums, playful and taunting. "I'm afraid it's all the influence you have on me. I guess I should keep my distance from now on, huh?"
He rests his palms against Rin's chest, gently pushing until the boy steps back to let him leave. He doesn't see the hand curling around his wrist until it clamps down in an iron grip and drags Hiori back to Rin, his back flush against the taller boy's chest.
"I never said that, did I?" Rin says simply, arms locked tightly around Hiori's body, and that's how Hiori knows that he's not going to be moving from his spot until Rin decides he's done with him.
(Rin is a vengeful boy. Hiori has quite a fondness even for that part of Rin, much to his own vexation.)
Hiori and Rin are partners, because that's what their egos desire. And what is an egoist who doesn't follow their own ego?
Not Hiori and Rin– who trust each other to fulfill their own selfish vision and use that trust to make the best of their own play.