Work Text:
They were losing the game. Pre-pubescent fists clenched as they raced down the grassy field from one side to the other, desperate for a victory that had thus far evaded them. Whether the sun was shining or whether it was cloudy or whether it was night time altogether didn’t matter in the slightest. Everyone had their eyes on that black and white ball rolling over the green, coming closer and closer with every swift kick from the opposing team.
Rin was the first one to almost succeed in stopping them, using the mud on the field to his advantage. His arms were close to his chest and his teeth were dangerously bared as he raced up the sidelines and then cut across the field with Kisumi drafting behind, both of them kicking up tufts of grass and balls of dirt with every stretch and touch of their thin, pale legs. They raced, the balls of their feet digging into the earth as if they could force it to move faster themselves, both of them dragging in ragged, icy breaths, neither of them certain whether it was tears or, in fact, rain clinging to their cheeks, but the knowledge that they were nearly halfway through the second half of the game and that they hadn’t scored a single point—not even one—and that losing this game would mean the end of their season kept them pushing onward.
Sousuke was sure that he’d never seen either of them run quite so fast and, yet, he wasn’t sure it’d be quite fast enough. So, he stood on guard, legs set slightly apart and hands up at the ready, the gloves that were just a bit too big for his hands and that bunched up at the wrists offering him only minimal protection from the opposing team and their less-than-honorable methods for achieving victory. There was still blood coming from his right nostril, mud on his forearm from where their star player had kicked him hard—with cleats on nonetheless—and his shin was red with scrapes from where they had struck him and caused him to trip. He’d taken a beating, which was why no one blamed him for their losses.
The other team was cheating.
The first time there was an incident, their coach had called out to the referee, pointing to Sousuke’s leg and showing where he’d been clearly struck before he fell down, but the black and white clad man shook his head, refusing to call a foul because he “didn’t witness any misconduct.” Fine. It was just one occurrence then, so it was forgivable if the referee hadn’t had both eyes open.
The second incident involved one of their players tugging on the back of Rin’s jersey and throwing him to the ground when he’d had possession of the ball—a clear violation of the rules and an obvious foul that even their parents on the sidelines had been furious about. Yet again, no foul called. As far as the referee was concerned, he’d seen Rin fall, but he didn’t witness any so-called shirt pulling.
The third time had resulted in Sousuke’s muddy and aching right arm. As the goalie, he was allowed to hold the ball and, after saving the ball from being shot into the goal, he’d picked it up, as was his right, and returned to his rectangle to prepare to kick it away, hopefully, to Rin or to Kisumi. However, the opposing team’s star player, offended that his victory had slipped away from him, kicked him hard in the forearm, his cleats raking scrapes in his flesh, causing him to drop the ball. They scored a point directly after.
No foul.
At halftime, the coach had had to tell them the bad news: the other team was cheating and the referee either didn’t care, had the worst eyesight in the world, or had been bought. If they won, they were going to win by playing fair and square, because they were better than a team of cheaters, but, if they lost, it wasn’t their fault and they could still hold their heads high.
They didn’t want to hold their heads high in defeat; they wanted victory and they wanted to knock those guys down a couple of pegs.
A minute into the second half, Sousuke got elbowed in the nose. The parents were yelling in the stands as the timeout was called with no foul to accompany it. Nothing was broken, so he’d be fine, but Sousuke wasn’t going to sit out for the rest of the match like they wanted him to do. He had a job to do and his friends were counting on him and any substitute they put in his place was just going to face the same beatings as he. They’d made this personal and he wasn’t backing down for a bloody nose.
Cutting across the field on a direct intercept course, Rin yelled out loud as he got close and, finally, broke their formation. He dug his foot into the ground and slid through the mud, barely making it with enough time to kick the ball out of their possession and back to Kisumi before he slipped and fell, taking another two players with him as they all slid and slipped on the uncertain ground.
It was up to Kisumi now. He turned the ball around with a quick tap of his foot and started back up the field while Rin untangled himself from the muck and the other limbs from the boys he’d fallen down with and Sousuke yelled out from the very edge of the goalie box, “Yeah! Run, Kisumi!”
The other team wasted no time, however, in making sure that Kisumi wouldn’t have a free shot at the goal. At least three players had set up a wall to defend the goal, spacing themselves out in front of him strategically, but Kisumi and his fancy footwork maneuvered around them with ease, his smile that was missing one tooth wide as the goal opened up before him, only a single player in the way.
“Go, Kisumi!”
Kisumi paused for just a moment, swung his leg back and then forward again—
He never made contact with the ball. Time for Sousuke seemed to stop as he watched Kisumi fall down on his side with another player on top of him and he heard him cry out in pain. Everyone on the field stopped running as the opposing goalie grabbed the ball and kept it in his possession and the player that had tackled Kisumi to the ground stood up, wiping mud from his knees and not even offering a hand or a word of apology as Kisumi coughed and choked for air and held his knee close to his chest.
Rin and Sousuke were already running, racing to be by his side. Rin got there first, yelling out, “Kisumi!” He sank to his knees beside him to help him sit up. “You okay? Where does it hurt?”
Sousuke got there next, but he had another target.
“Oi! Asshole!” he yelled, grabbing the offending player by the front of his jersey and pushing him back down to the ground where he belonged. With his fists clenched, he struck the side of his face once and again and then with his other fist while the player cried out and lifted his arms in self-defense. “Don’t you ever touch my friends again!” Sousuke yelled, his young voice breaking with strain.
Whistles blew and, naturally, a foul was finally called. Sousuke was still raining down punch after punch, unleashing the fury of the entire game and the entire team onto the single player who’d hurt Kisumi, hitting more of his forearms than anything and doing only so much damage to his muddy face, but every swing of his arm felt good and, had it not been for the coach grabbing him by the back of his shirt and tugging him off of his victim, he’d have slugged him until his hands were numb.
“Yamazaki!” the coach yelled, barely holding Sousuke back enough to keep him from kicking at the downed player. He all but dragged him off the field while Sousuke struggled and yelled, demanding that the player apologize to Kisumi, calling the whole lot of them cheaters.
In the meantime, Rin had helped Kisumi to his feet and, slowly, they made their way toward the sidelines, Kisumi’s arm slung around Rin’s shoulders for support while he limped painfully along, both of them stunned to silence by Sousuke’s outburst.
Sousuke, quite unceremoniously, was plunked down on the grass in a huff. He wiped away the blood from his nose on the hem of his shirt and clenched his jaw angrily while the referee penalized their team for unsportsmanlike conduct, awarded the other team another point they didn’t deserve, and banned Sousuke from play for the remainder of the game as well as the next two games. He lay back on the grass and covered his eyes with his forearm, his bleeding fists clenched in anger.
There was a rustling in the grass beside him and Sousuke peeked out from behind his forearm to see Kisumi carefully lowering himself to sit, tears streaming silently down his cheeks while Rin, after a quick glance to make sure the two of them were okay, was quickly ushered back onto the field so that play could resume.
“You okay?” Sousuke asked, pushing himself up to sit. He dragged the back of his hand across the underside of his nose and sniffed, smelling tangy copper and grass.
Kisumi nodded. “It’s just my knee got twisted," he said quietly before he glanced shyly to his side. "Thanks, Sou… You didn’t have to fight him for me.”
“Yes I did,” Sousuke was quick to insist. “They’ve been cheating this whole game and he tackled you just so you wouldn’t score.” Tch.
Kisumi sniffed again, looking down at the grass by his cleats and picking indiscriminately at the green blades as he replied, “You got yourself suspended.”
Giving a huff, Sousuke pulled his knees up to his chest and set his chin down on top. “I’d do it again too,” he promised in a mumbled voice, unable to purge the sight of Kisumi falling from his mind. It filled him with such rage again that he let out a sharp tch from between his teeth. “Assholes…”
“You shouldn’t say that out loud,” Kisumi warned, though Sousuke caught that the corner of his mouth had picked up in amusement. “It’s a bad word.”
“Fuck that… It’s just a word… ,” Sousuke mumbled back into his arms, peeking at Kisumi from the corners of his teal eyes. “Who cares?”
Giving a little chuckle, Kisumi glanced his way, saying, “That one’s even worse.”
Sousuke shrugged, then lifted his head and leaned a bit closer, saying, “Shit.”
“Shhh!” Kisumi hushed through a small fit of giggles, waving his right hand in the air in front of him. “Someone’ll hear!”
With a grin, Sousuke only continued, listing off, “Crap. Shit. Asshole…”
“Sousuke!” Kisumi giggled turning his face away as Sousuke leaned closer.
“Fuck. Bitch. Motherfucker.”
Kisumi’s giggles increased and he turned his face back to say in a hushed tone with a wide smile, “Sousuke, stop it! Someone’ll hear and we’ll get in trouble!”
Rising to his challenge, Sousuke smirked and leaned only closer, whispering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Kisumi’s hands rose up to cover his mouth and Sou stopped, grinning into Kisumi’s palm. “Shut up!” Kisumi whispered back, feigning sternness as little giggles broke through the hard line of his lips. Slowly, once he was apparently confident that Sousuke was done with his swearing, his hands fell away and he used them to wipe what remained of his tears from his cheeks. “Jeez, you’re so weird...”
Resting his head back on his knees, Sousuke pouted, watching Kisumi brush away tears and dirt, that smile of his with the missing front tooth quickly fading away once more. Any moment now, he’d look back out at the field and feel bad that they’d been penalized, somehow blame himself for Sousuke beating up another player, and feel somehow responsible for their loss.
He couldn’t let that smile die.
Sousuke looked around and grabbed the first fistful of yellow, bursting dandelions he saw and, without much ado, tossed them at Kisumi's head.
“Ah!” Kisumi raised up his hands and shook his head to get all the leaves and little flowers out of his fluffy hair. “What was that for?!” he asked, picking out the little pieces in despair. “I’m injured, so you’re supposed to be nice to me…”
With a frown, Sousuke watched the little yellow petals as they clung to his hair and his skin, little green bits and pieces landing on his thighs, and Kisumi’s soft pink locks that framed his young face settling into regular fluffy chaos, and Sousuke had to look away before Kisumi could see the soft dusting of pink settling onto Sousuke’s cheekbones.
“Just cheer up already… You’re ugly when you cry.”