Archive of Our Own

"Three days off... Kinda tricky, kinda tricky."

Kurona Ranze tilted his head, unsure what to make of it.

The Neo Egoist League had come to an end, and the players at Blue Lock were granted a three-day vacation.
Freed from strict dietary control, the lack of internet access, and above all the stress of communal living, the players celebrated their temporary release with the usual wild joy.

That day, the locker room bath felt like a victory parade.

Everyone was buzzing—laughing, shouting, running around.
When Igarashi Gurimu struck the iconic pose from the final scene of The Shawshank Redemption while showering, another player clapped and laughed, calling out, “Congrats on breaking out!”

Kurona didn’t know the movie, but judging from the context, he figured it was a metaphor for escaping the “blue prison.” Clever, he thought. He didn’t have that kind of humor himself. Still, as he watched Igarashi playing the clown, Kurona thought: maybe a mood-maker like him is necessary on a team.

“Hey. Those guys are freaking out.”

Kurona was soaking quietly in the bath, watching Igarashi’s antics unfold in silence, when a voice called out to him. He shifted his gaze sideways—and there was Isagi Yoichi, flashing his usual good-natured smile.

Kurona hadn’t really spoken with Isagi much until the Neo Egoist League began.
Out of the five countries, they’d both chosen the same Germany and ended up on the same team.
Not that “team” meant much there—most players only seemed interested in crushing the competition.
Everyone was the enemy. Inside that cage of beasts, Kurona had fixed his eyes on Isagi.

When he compared his own skills with the rest, Kurona realized: without a solid ally, he wouldn’t survive.
But he didn’t just intend to rely on someone—by offering solid support in return, he could create mutual benefit.

Unlike the already-established factions, Isagi’s position was still uncertain.
And so, Kurona poured his entire soccer life into Isagi, putting everything on the line.

As it turned out, his read was spot on—Isagi’s cerebral, calculated play style fit perfectly with Kurona’s own. Their chemistry clicked almost too well.

“Yeah, yeah. I get how they feel though.”

Side by side in the bath, the two of them watched the scene unfold around Igarashi.

Ever since they’d teamed up, Isagi had naturally taken up the space next to Kurona.
Working as a duo required tight communication, and since Isagi had a tendency to act on impulse and drag his partner along for the ride, Kurona had simply stayed within reach.

They were always next to each other.
About the same height. Quiet off the field. Some guys had started calling them “the twins.”
They didn’t look alike at all—both of them tilted their heads at the nickname.

“Hey, Kurona, you’re from Hokkaido, right? You going back home tomorrow?”

“…Thought about it. But nah.”

“Huh? Well, yeah, three days is kinda short for that, huh.”

“And flights are stupid expensive right now.”

“Oh, right…”

To Isagi, who had grown up in the heart of Kanto without any real inconveniences, the idea of fluctuating airfares was a foreign concept. He didn’t even know the going rates.
Not wanting to sound clueless, he just kept quiet.

If Kurona wasn’t leaving, that meant he’d spend the break here.
Sure, they’d get their phones back—but otherwise, the facility had nothing but soccer.
He could go out, but Kurona’s friends and family lived far away.

Isagi, looking more disappointed than Kurona himself, suddenly lit up with an idea.

“Hey, Kurona! You should come over to my place!”

His face beamed as he said it, but Kurona just tilted his head, not quite catching his meaning.
His body had started to heat up from the bath, so he rose from the water and asked:

“Your place? You mean your house? That’s too much, too much.”

“It’s fine, really! I can never keep up with all the talking when I’m home anyway. You’d be a huge help, seriously. Plus, my parents love meeting my friends and stuff.”

Following Kurona out of the bath, Isagi kept talking even as they stepped into the changing room.

Let’s hang out, let’s stay over!
Isagi’s enthusiasm spilled out a little too honestly. But it was the word friends that made Kurona twitch ever so slightly.

In this survival pit full of strangers, players might call each other enemies or allies, but “friend” was far too soft a word. Off the field, Isagi Yoichi was basically just a good-natured teenager.

Kurona let a faint smile cross his lips and gave Isagi a small nod.
If Isagi was going to become just a teenager again, then maybe Kurona could allow himself to do the same.

◇

"Welcome to the Isagi family!"

Two radiant smiles greeted them like blooming flowers.

Before Isagi could even finish saying “I’m home,” a warm and enthusiastic welcome swept over them.
Kurona thought to himself, They must be Isagi’s parents, as he saw their slightly out-of-sync cheer and matching bashful smiles—clear signs of shared genes.

"You're Kurona-kun, right? Welcome! I'm Yo-chan’s mom."

"Feel free to treat this like your own home, Kurona-kun. I'm Yoichi's father."

Both parents stood at the entrance to greet him, and Kurona bowed politely.
They seem kind, he thought.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Kurona Ranze. Sorry for the sudden visit, and thank you for having me."

"Oh no, not at all! Kurona-kun, are you hungry?"

"Mom, we’ll talk later, okay? Kurona, let’s go upstairs."

Pushing past his parents, who looked ready to launch into a full conversation, Isagi took Kurona’s arm and pulled him along. Since he’d be staying for two nights, Kurona had hoped to spend a bit more time on greetings, but he followed Isagi up the stairs anyway.
Halfway up, he glanced back to see the parents smiling and waving, so he gave a small bow in return.

Isagi’s room was neat.
Posters, soccer figures, and a few too many magazines made it a textbook example of a typical boy’s room.

Kurona unpacked and checked the clock. 11 a.m.—a bit early for lunch.
One glance at his wide-open duffel bag revealed a glimpse of his sleepwear.
When Kurona silently looked at Isagi, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“…We just got here, but wanna take a nap?”

The whirlwind of the past few days replayed in their minds. They had pushed themselves, sacrificing sleep for training, and endured mentally taxing conditions.
Now, just being outside that “prison” loosened the tension—and their bodies were begging for rest. Kurona, recognizing how connected the brain and body truly were, gave a nod.

“You can use the bed, Kurona.”

Isagi, already changed, called out casually.

Kurona, shirtless and reaching for his loungewear, tried to refuse—he couldn’t let the host sleep on the floor. But Isagi wouldn’t accept that, saying his parents would scold him for making a guest sleep on the ground.

They don’t seem like the scolding type, Kurona thought, but he accepted Isagi’s kindness.
As he sat on the bed, he thought to himself that if they’d been on the same team during the second selection, maybe there wouldn’t have been any “bed conflicts.”

After thanking Isagi and lying down, the sleepiness that had stayed hidden finally crashed over him. Next to him, Isagi was setting up the guest futon and yawning lazily. The last thing Kurona heard was the quiet rustle of curtains being drawn—probably Isagi’s doing—before his consciousness faded.

Five hours later, the two of them sat dazed at the dining table as Isagi’s dad chuckled and pulled out a chair.

"Looks like you guys were really worn out."
"I suppose so. They woke up going, ‘I’m starving, I’m gonna die!’ Boys, right?”

His mom’s voice rang out from the kitchen.
She was reheating the dishes she had prepared ahead of time. His dad, setting the table, smiled fondly at his still-sleepy son and his guest.

A few minutes later, the warm, steaming dishes placed before them snapped both boys out of their daze.
They pressed their hands together in itadakimasu and devoured their food with an appetite that could’ve covered both lunch and dinner.

“This is really good. So, so tasty."

“Hey! Kurona, stop eating so much! There’s only a limited number of those crab cream croquettes!”

With arms crossing and chopsticks clashing over shared dishes, Isagi and Kurona bickered in a high-spirited, chaotic way that made their mother beam with joy.
Since Isagi rarely came home, the house had become a quiet place for just the couple. There was no reason to make fried foods anymore, no rushing to wash uniforms, no soccer sounds from the TV.
She hadn’t been ready for her son to leave so suddenly and had been dying to dote on again.
Now, with this extra “son” in the house, her motherly instincts were in full bloom.

“Can you pass that, Isa… Yoichi.”

“Huh? Did you just call me Yoichi?”

Isagi looked surprised as he handed the pitcher of tea to Kurona, who didn’t meet his eyes and instead reached for the salad tongs.

“Everyone in this room is Isagi, after all,” the father chimed in with a warm smile.

Isagi made an “ah, I get it” face and gently elbowed Kurona.

“Kurona~, you’ve got a cute side huh.”

“Shut it, shut it. I can call you Yo-chan too, you know.”

“So your first name’s Ranze-kun, right? Wow, you both have the same kanji in your names! It’s like you’re brothers!”

Watching how easily his mother jumped into the conversation, Kurona thought, So this is where Isagi gets his friendliness from.

“He’s actually a year younger than me. Not that it matters in Blue Lock—age doesn’t mean much there.”

“Really? my, you Blue Lock boys sure seem to get along nicely, don't you?"
The word get along made Kurona choke a little. Blue Lock was filled with egoists who didn’t respect others and rarely used honorifics sincerely. If she knew that, how would she react?

Kurona quickly sipped his tea while Isagi laughed, holding his stomach.

“Ah, well, there are a few people I get along with. Kurona’s one of ’em.”

Rubbing his eyes half-laughing, Isagi looked over at Kurona, who was still debating which salad dressing to use.
Isagi pointed to the soy sauce one.

“Bingo, bingo,” Kurona said, making a small circle with his fingers. Isagi had long since memorized his preferences.

After dinner, Kurona, who had bathed first, waited for Isagi to return after his own bath.
As Kurona finished blow-drying his hair and passed through the living room, Isagi’s mother called out to him and gave him a choice: Would you like hot milk, cocoa, or tea? Apparently, having a warm drink wasn’t optional.

Kurona was about to say “tea,” but when he saw the gentle, narrowed eyes of the mother, full of kindness, he changed his mind and asked for cocoa.
She bustled off cheerfully to prepare it.
Seeing her warm, nostalgic expression made Kurona feel just a little homesick—and a little longing to be spoiled.

“Thank you… very much,”
he said as he received a cute mug. His polite tone was still slightly stiff.

“So, Kurona-kun, what’s Yo-chan like over there?”
His mother leaned forward with a relaxed tone that blew away Kurona’s nervousness.
Ah, so this is what she was after, he realized.

“He’s really something. Honestly, I think he’s got serious potential as a striker.”

“Aw, that’s so nice to hear! He’s always been good at only soccer. If he’s having fun, then I’m glad.”

“…He’s kind to everyone, sort of acts as a quiet leader, and he always comes up with bold ideas, so you never get bored.”

Kurona didn’t like that she said only soccer.
Isagi had real talent and appeal—that’s why he stood at the center of it all.
But if Isagi hadn’t told them how harsh the environment was, Kurona wasn’t about to spoil it for him. Maybe that distance, that gentle ignorance, was part of what made Isagi feel at ease here.

By the time Isagi returned to the living room after enjoying a rare solo bath, his mother was already calling Kurona “Ran-chan,” and Kurona was speaking to her almost casually.
She had fully adopted him as a second son, and Isagi, fearing what more might be said, dragged Kurona away and forced an escape.

Back upstairs, Isagi laid out his collection of treasured DVDs—
The French World Cup victory, highlight reels of legendary European players, documentaries on Noel Noa… all traces of the young Isagi’s obsession with soccer from every angle.
Kurona rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Can’t choose just one… Let’s watch them all.”

Isagi gave a firm thumbs-up of agreement.
What had once held meaning only to Isagi now felt validated by Kurona’s approval.

Just then, the chime from what sounded like a local community center rang out—it was 6 p.m., and there was still plenty of time before nightfall.

“Whoa! That was insane!”
The stick balloon was smacked with a pop-pop. Isagi let out a gleeful yell, while Kurona nodded rapidly in shared excitement.
It was the moment when Marc Snuffy’s incredible shot found the back of the net, leading his team to victory in Serie A, Italy’s top domestic league.

Wearing a replica French national team jersey, Isagi had his arm draped over Kurona’s shoulder.
He had saved up diligently for this beloved shirt, one that made him feel a little closer to his idol, Noel Noa. He’d only bought the top, feeling too self-conscious to go full uniform, but it was enough.

When he wore it for jogging, he would imagine himself running beside Noa—not just next to him, but as the one scoring a goal and getting that proud nod of approval from the legend.
Now that Noa might actually see him one day, this was a secret Isagi would take to his grave.

“I’m outta tea. I’ll get more.”

His voice hoarse from excitement, Isagi muttered to himself, “Maybe water this time…” as he left the room and headed downstairs.
Kurona waved lazily and turned to reach for the snacks laid out on the table.

On the TV, the Italian team embraced in celebration. The dramatic moment, captured by a reporter, had been shown countless times on the news—and Kurona had seen it before.

As he chewed, in the kitchen Isagi poured water into a pitcher.
On his cheek was a sticker of the Japanese flag, the sun symbol. These were simple supporter decals that Isagi had treasured as a boy, vowing to one day see the national team in person.
Now that he was a national player, he opened them casually—no longer something a player needed.

Wearing the French team’s jersey, sporting a Japanese flag on his cheek, while watching an Italian league…
The chaos of it made Kurona smile quietly.
Now that he represented Japan, he couldn’t cheer for other countries so freely.
But someday, when everything was over and the weight was off his shoulders, watching matches like this openly wouldn’t be so bad.
By then, he’d be able to drink, too—and just like those fans he used to see, he’d chug a beer.
Drinking with Isagi sounded like it’d be fun.

As he glanced at his empty glass, a DVD on the table caught his eye.

“Go for it, Yoichi!”
“Fight, Yo-chan! You’re so cool!”

Familiar voices rang from the room.
Isagi hurried back, pitcher in hand, water sloshing so much a few drops hit the floor.

“Hey—wait—what are you watching!?”
“Lil’ Isagi. Kinda cute, honestly.”

On the TV was a young Isagi in lower elementary school, running around the field.
His parents’ voices were loud in the background, but young Isagi didn’t seem bothered—his innocent smile and peace sign were clearly caught on camera.

“Yoichi in Grade School: Soccer Edition”
That was the handwritten label on a plain DVD Kurona had found. Without hesitation, he’d played it.
Originally, he meant to tease him—but what he saw was different.
Humble passing, smart positioning—Isagi’s grounded and sharp nature was already apparent.

But despite running so joyfully, passes never came to him near the goal.
Even though he was a forward skilled in direct shots, he didn’t complain—he celebrated his teammates’ goals.
It was frustrating to watch.
Isagi shortening his passes to match those around him, relying too much on teammates, handling the ball too cautiously, and his reluctance to take center stage in front of the goal.

He didn’t realize his own ability and unconsciously lowered himself.
That was Isagi’s budding talent, nipped before it could bloom.

Isagi Yoichi is honest.
Kurona had known that even before they started spending so much time together in Blue Lock.

He listened more intently than anyone to Jinpachi Ego’s revolutionary theories, absorbed them like a sponge, and then craved even more—fearlessly, even on the biggest stages.
He stood face-to-face with Noel Noa, their coach, and asked bold questions, always striving desperately to reach the next level.

In that prison where everyone was the enemy, Isagi would reach out to players he had his eye on, and even if they brushed him off, he kept trying to communicate.
Whatever the reason, he always managed to slip into the hearts of others.

Isagi Yoichi’s way of listening hadn’t changed one bit—then or now.

The weight of a true leader’s influence made Kurona shiver.
At the same time, he couldn’t help imagining a world where he had teamed up with that little Isagi on the screen.

A pass to the left side, right in front of the goal—that’s Isagi’s specialty. Kurona would’ve absolutely passed to him.
A long ball to a free Isagi—Kurona could’ve done it at that age.
And with Isagi’s talent, he would’ve seen Kurona looping around and passed it back.

If they had played as double strikers…
If Kurona had been there to awaken the ego buried deep inside that young Isagi…
If he had been the one standing beside him all along...

But thinking about it wouldn’t change anything.

Because now, Kurona was the one beside Isagi.
Their partnership was strong, and Kurona had no complaints.

“You look sleepy, Kurona. Wanna call it a night?”

Isagi gently offered the suggestion, misreading Kurona’s silence.
Sometimes he was off, but his kindness always felt warm.

He’d probably make a great older brother if he had one.

Looking relieved, Isagi quickly switched off the TV and changed the subject:

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

Kurona was impressed.
Even after being caught watching old childhood footage, Isagi didn’t get mad.
His patience might not be something that mattered in Blue Lock, but… it was something Kurona appreciated deeply.

◇

“See ya later!”

Their voices overlapped in a low tone as the front door clicked open.
Isagi waved energetically, while Kurona bowed his head slightly and offered a modest wave.

Despite having been freed from the Blue Lock, the members had chosen to gather again of their own volition.
They were different from ordinary classmates—sometimes bitter rivals, sometimes comrades in shared struggle.

This was Kurona’s first time joining one of these outings. His first time in Shibuya.
Startled by the sheer number of people, he froze up a bit—prompting a laugh from Isagi.
But once inside the café where they were meeting, Kurona smoothly placed his order, and it was Isagi’s turn to be surprised.

“Just so you know, we’ve got plenty of Starbucks in Hokkaido.”

With a look of mock exasperation, Kurona walked off to pick up his drink.
Isagi, who had been hoping to show off a little, pouted and stared at the menu in defeat.

Some of the members they met up with barely knew Kurona, so the meeting began with introductions.

“Wait, Kurona—aren’t you from Hokkaido? That’s your hometown, right?”
Chigiri Hyoma cut into the conversation with a sudden question.
Chigiri, who lived in Kyushu, recalled that Kurona, too, came from the countryside. A thoughtful look crossed his beautiful face as he tilted his head.

“Bingo, bingo. Right now I’m staying at Isagi’s.”

What surprised Kurona more was that Chigiri even remembered that much about him.
Kurona didn’t stand out, but standing next to someone like Isagi, who radiated like the sun, people noticed by association.
Isagi’s influence reached further than expected.

“Wait, you guys are doing sleepovers? That’s sounds fun!”
“So close! Like twins or something!”
“Hey Kurona, what are Isagi’s parents like?”

Everyone began chiming in after Kurona’s simple comment.
Isagi was caught off guard by their enthusiasm, while Kurona remained calm, answering everyone politely.
He didn’t mind saying that Isagi’s parents were kind—though a bit shy about it.

When Kurona proudly showed off the gloves he’d received from Isagi’s mom—saying “These are from the ‘Mother of Saitama’”—Isagi begged him to stop before his parents actually started believing it.

With their near-limitless teenage stamina, they made full use of the sports complex and then went on to karaoke, games, billiards—everything they could think of.
As it got dark and colder, the group began to scatter, one after another, they depart, returning to the families they love.

“Later! Next time I’m crashing at your place too, Isagi!”
“Sure—if you ditch the no-clothes thing first.”

After saying goodbye to Bachira, only Isagi and Kurona remained.

Each farewell made Isagi more certain—he was truly glad he’d brought Kurona along.
After having this much fun… he didn’t want to send him back to that cold prison again.

“We’re home~!”

Just like when they left, their voices overlapped as they stepped back inside.
The scent of cooking filled the entranceway.
When they peeked into the living room, Isagi’s mother was happily stirring a pot.

“What’s for dinner, Mom?”

Isagi asked as he unwrapped his scarf.
Kurona took off the gloves he had borrowed, and Isagi picked them up.
Winter always meant more laundry, and Isagi felt a little guilty toward his mother—
though he didn’t know that she had even come to miss doing the laundry.

“I made cream stew tonight. Thought Ran-chan might be missing the taste of home with this cold weather.”

Isagi felt a little weird having his friend treated like another son, but when he saw how Kurona’s eyes lit up with joy, he kept quiet.
When Kurona learned it wasn’t just made from a boxed roux but was fully homemade, he beamed and went off to wash his hands, repeating, “cant' wait, can't wait.”
No wonder Isagi's mom liked him.

Isagi warned him at the sink to keep his words in check—at this rate, they might not let him return to Blue Lock, and he’d definitely be expected to come back next break.

◇

They sat trembling in front of a DVD with the bold title:
“True Terror! Exorcisms Based on Real Events—America Was Shaken”

“Dude, this is way scarier than I thought—The Conjuring’s like this?”
“We got fooled by the dumb packaging. Totally terrifying, totally terrifying.”

They’d picked out a horror film from Isagi’s dad’s collection, thinking it would be fun.
Armed with cushions and blankets as emotional shields, they peeked at the screen nervously, jumping like startled cats at every loud sound.

“I—I can’t, I might not make it. Is something about to happen!?”
“It’s fine, it’s fi…—ah.”
“WHAT?! You just paused—something’s totally coming!! I need to pee!!”
“Me too, me too. No jumping the gun!”

Their desperate struggle dragged on until they finally agreed on a peaceful solution: pause it during the least scary scene.
It was a pitiful battle born from minds too conditioned by the competition of Blue Lock.

“Ughhh… that was brutal. I’m never playing blindfold tag—never ever. Not that I’ve done it before…”
“Thank god Japan doesn’t do basements. Creepy, creepy.”

The movie, which they’d thought would be over-the-top American horror, instead kept delivering relentless, subtle dread.
By the end, both of them were physically and mentally drained.

“But it was good. I didn’t realize horror movies had foreshadowing and all that. I’m satisfied, satisfied.”
“Glad to hear it… I knew my dad had a good collection—he’s a real movie buff—but I didn’t think it’d be this scary.”
“You want me to hold your hand when we go to sleep?”
“No way. I’m older than you, you know.”

They exchanged teasing words as Kurona started laying out the futon.
Tonight, he planned to let the host sleep in his rightful place.
Isagi tried to insist again, but Kurona dove under the covers and asked him to turn off the lights.
Seeing that, Isagi finally gave in and quietly lay down in his own bed.

Second night at the Isagi residence.

When they woke up tomorrow, it would be time to return to the usual prison.
Compared to the days when he’d freely played soccer up in the north, Kurona's life had become violent, chaotic.
Don’t lose. Survive. Bite back. Devour. Kill.
Those were the kinds of words flying around them—and Isagi had started to change.
To be precise, it was as if a sleeping lion had slowly begun to wake.

The gap between the gentle Isagi off the field and the intense, bloodthirsty one during matches grew wider by the day. Sometimes it even felt like he was dealing with a man with two personalities.
But Kurona didn’t mind that. It was a small thing.
Isagi Yoichi was fascinating. Adapting to him wasn’t difficult.
In fact, Kurona welcomed the change.

In the pitch-dark room, Kurona kept thinking.

Like a fish in water, Isagi had soared in the Blue Lock. He would probably thrive anywhere, all on his own.
Then what about me?

Kurona had a quiet fear tucked deep in his chest.
He hadn’t meant to grow just by staying in Isagi’s shadow.
And it wasn’t like he lacked hunger—he did want to become the best striker in the world. Strongly.
But something was missing. Something critical.
There was always this sense that he was floating, ungrounded—unable to find the final piece.

He glanced at the bed beside him, at the sleeping Isagi.
Of course, he couldn’t get answers from him. But the kind of soccer they played together—that lit up his brain—had been the most exhilarating thing in his life.
And now, it would end tomorrow.

Sensing his gaze, Isagi suddenly opened his eyes.

“…What is it, Kurona? You scared or something?”

The eyes Kurona had assumed would stay closed flashed open.
In the darkness, Kurona’s adjusted vision caught the clear blue of Isagi’s eyes, narrowing slightly as he teased.
Isagi couldn’t ignore someone reaching out for help.
Kurona knew that.

“Yeah. Please hold my hand, big bro.”

He lifted his right hand slightly and reached toward Isagi, who lay just a bed away.
Isagi hesitated a moment, then extended his left hand and gently clasped Kurona’s.
It wasn’t the easiest grip, but Kurona didn’t seem to care.
Like brothers, they lay in the dark, holding hands for a while.
Kurona leaned into the comfort Isagi gave.
Isagi leaned into Kurona’s quiet acceptance.

“…You know,”

Isagi’s voice broke the silence.

“When you stood by me back then… it really saved me.”

He was talking about the start of the Neo Egoist League.
Isolated, targeted by strong teams, Isagi had been alone.
And Kurona had chosen to back him up, claiming a support slot.
Sure, Kurona had done it as a calculated gamble—but it worked out because of Isagi’s skill.
Isagi understood that.
That’s why he didn’t say thank you. But knowing his personality, the gratitude still had to come out somehow.

“Kurona. I want to be the best striker in the world.”
“Mm. Me too.”

Lying down, staring at the ceiling, Isagi spoke with rare resolve.
Kurona echoed him.

“…That means we’re gonna have to fight each other. I’d rather not, but… it’s unavoidable.”

Kurona stayed quiet, sensing Isagi wasn’t done.
Isagi took a breath. But what came out was small, fragile.

“But I really, really don’t wanna be apart from you.”

Caught off guard, Kurona turned to look at him.
Those shaky words drew Kurona in.

“I meet someone this good, and then Blue Lock just… tears us apart. It’s messed up. Teen emotions can’t keep up.”

“Agreed, agreed. …But you know we have to do this, right?”

“Yeah. Can’t get soft when we’re aiming for the top.”

Isagi’s blunt honesty landed directly in Kurona’s heart.
Words spoken with his whole being—Kurona had to answer with the same sincerity.

“I like playing soccer with you. I learn stuff, and you suddenly go all king-mode, and if I follow you, it gets even more fun. Total brain rush.”

Kurona spoke calmly. Isagi gave a quiet laugh but didn’t answer.
He knew what came next.

“But I can’t just follow you. I’ve gotta go my own way.”

Isagi’s grip on Kurona’s hand began to loosen.
As if about to let go—Kurona tightened his own hold.

He looked up at Isagi and said:

“Good news, good news. I’m the type who knows when to switch off. So I’d really like it if you’d still hang out with me like this sometimes.”

That unexpected line snapped Isagi out of it. He released Kurona’s hand and shot upright.

“Ku… Kuronaaa!! You almost got me! Damn, that was close! Dude, you could totally be a host — the Japanese kind or something!”

He crossed his arms over his chest like a flustered girl. Kurona followed his lead.

"Yay. I’m not letting you go home tonight."

Kurona struck a peace sign.
Isagi, laughing hard, added on.

“haha! Doesn’t suit you at all! I think you’re more the cute type, y’know?”

“Got it, got it.”

Kurona sat up, cupped Isagi’s left hand gently in both of his, and gave it a little squeeze.
Preparing for another round of their improvised skit, Isagi giggled.

“I like you, Isagi. You’re cool. You’re a good guy.”

“Kuronaaa!!”

Isagi finally burst out of his bed and dove onto the futon where Kurona sat.
He collapsed on top of the blanket, prompting Kurona to let out a cartoonish “guheh” like a squashed frog.

“You’re not hosty at all, but you’re seriously cute, man! I like you too, Kurona!”

Rolling over, Isagi peeked out from under the covers, gasping with laughter.

"Haah, that was hilarious. Just don’t ever become a host, okay? You’d be dangerous."

Chuckling as he said it, Isagi shivered and muttered, "So cold," then casually grabbed Kurona’s blanket and slipped right under it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Security breach. I’ve let a customer sneak into my bed."
"Customer? Say that again and I’ll smack you with my tab."
"Oh? Got other regulars, do I? But you’re still my number one, Isagi. Special, special."

Isagi burst into laughter, like something had hit the perfect spot, then hugged Kurona tightly and ruffled his hair.

"Damn it... I hate that I’m happy, even if you’re lying."
“It’s true, it’s true. ………I'm not lying."

Kurona added quietly, his voice nearly fading out.
Isagi turned to look at him, startled.
Kurona’s lips were drawn tight, ears slightly red, and his eyes awkwardly averted.

His entire body screamed, that “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

"Uh… wha—"

Caught off guard by the situation, Isagi couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

"Cringe cringe. G’night."
"W-Wait… hey, hold on…"

Kurona turned his back to Isagi with a swift motion, trying to hide—his voice came muffled from the other side.

"Just got a little lonely, talking about being apart. Switch, switch."
"You don’t have to deal with that now… Hey, Kurona, look at me."

Kurona’s actions were so all over the place, Isagi had no idea what was going on.
When he reached out to touch Kurona’s shoulder, Kurona flinched visibly.
They had been speaking so openly just moments ago, and now it felt like Kurona was suddenly pushing him away. Frustration welled up in Isagi, and he grabbed Kurona’s shoulder with a firm tug, pulling him toward himself a little forcefully.

"……!"

The sight that met Isagi’s eyes left him speechless.
Kurona’s face was a deep, unmistakable shade of red.
He was biting his trembling lower lip hard, eyes averted—but his catlike eyes glistened faintly, like a thin film of tears was threatening to fall.

Isagi’s mind froze.
What had just happened? He couldn’t keep up.
He stood there in silence, but when he noticed blood at the edge of Kurona’s lips, he quickly scrambled to find tissues.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Finding something in the room wasn’t hard.
Besides, he sensed Kurona needed this darkness.
The lights stayed off. The night quietly dragged on.

Isagi returned to Kurona’s side with a tissue in hand.
Kurona hadn’t moved—he kept his eyes hidden behind his arms, refusing to face Isagi.
With no words, Isagi gently dabbed the tissue to the wounded lip, careful not to touch too hard.
Kurona’s soft, shaky sniffle echoed faintly—but Isagi pretended not to hear.

"…Sorry. I must’ve done something to upset you. I went too far with the teasing or something, huh."

No matter how much he thought about it, Isagi couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
Still, it was obvious he was the cause.
So all he could do… was apologize.

But Kurona shook his head, weakly and silently, arms still covering his face.
A choked breath escaped him—painful, involuntary.

What was driving Kurona into such a corner?
He had denied it, but Isagi couldn’t help thinking he was the cause.
He had wanted Kurona to rely on him—he couldn’t deny that.
But he had never imagined that he would be the one to push him this far.

No matter how much he thought about it, there was no answer—but he knew this situation wouldn’t change unless he acted.
Making up his mind, Isagi grabbed Kurona’s upper arm, pulled it open with a firm motion, and pinned it down against the sheet.

It was a rough move.
Tears that had welled up finally slipped down Kurona’s cheek.

His lips tightly sealed in frustration, Kurona turned his face away, avoiding Isagi’s gaze.

"Wh-What’s going on with you… seriously…"

Kurona writhed lightly, as if trying to escape, but there was no desperate struggle—just a heavy, unbearable tension in the air.

It was the first time Isagi had gone against Kurona’s wishes and done something he likely didn’t want.
Kurona remained silent under him, his face turned aside, unwilling to speak or resist.

This wasn’t what Isagi wanted.

He let go of Kurona’s arms, murmuring a quiet "Sorry…",
and wrapped the slightly smaller frame into a firm embrace.

He didn’t know why he felt so emotional—but right now, all he could do was hold him.
His arms trembled as they closed around him.

After a while, Kurona’s hand gently touched Isagi’s arm—the one still wrapped around him.
The touch was hesitant, almost reverent.
Kurona’s hand was trembling too as he began to speak, his voice soft and uneven.

“…I imagined you being gone.”

Isagi stayed still, holding him.

“It was pitch black.”

—Planets don’t shine by themselves. They need the light of a star.

It wasn’t just on the field—imagining a world where Isagi Yoichi didn’t exist on his path… it was unbearable for Kurona.

He felt ashamed of having harbored something like dependency toward Yoichi Isagi.
It was humiliating that he had wanted to stay by his side, and he feared the pettiness in himself—the disgraceful desire to have Isagi feel even a trace of the same.

Tonight, here in this place, Kurona finally realized what his feelings were.

And at that exact moment, he was told he was needed.
That he was liked.
That Isagi didn’t want to let him go.

Those words, spoken with pure, platonic affection, twisted painfully inside him.
He hated himself for letting his heart leap with something impure.

He’d already said goodbye—gracefully, he thought.
But now it felt like the hand of some god had locked him in a cage, whispering:
"You’re not worthy to stand beside Isagi Yoichi."

To realize all this only after it was over—
it was far too late.

Kurona had built a strategy: use Isagi to rise, strike when the timing was right.
There had been no flaw in that plan.
No matter the emotional noise, the result should’ve been the same.

This was love destined to vanish the moment it bloomed.

He couldn't bring himself to convey the overwhelming emotions to Isagi.
Who in the world would be glad to hear that a friend and partner—someone they’d trusted as such—suddenly wanted something more?

Kurona need to find a way to explain it—make it dramatic, say he was just shaken at the idea of losing a friend.
Maybe Isagi, the kind soul he was, would believe him.

He tried to form the words.
But it felt like sludge was caught in his throat—his voice wouldn’t come out.
His throat wanted to scream, Don’t go. Don’t leave me.

He was terrified of the moment Isagi’s warmth would fade.
Because after tonight, he would no longer have any right to touch him again.

Just for now—just for a few more minutes—please… stay like this.
Kurona didn’t think he’d be able to meet Isagi’s eyes after this.
Isagi, don’t leave me.
Isagi,stay by my side.
Isagi, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry, Isagi.
…I love you.

His heart and his voice felt like they were tearing apart.
Kurona moved his lips soundlessly, mouthing words too fragile to speak aloud.
Only faint sobs escaped.

He had to cover it up.
If he corrected course now, maybe—maybe Isagi would still talk to him.
Maybe they could at least remain friends.

As Kurona choked out a voiceless sound, Isagi—now sitting up—gently cupped his cheek.
It was the same hand that had held his just moments ago.

So he’s comforting me…
Like I’m some helpless child throwing a tantrum.
As Kurona closed his eyes in resignation—Isagi kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle.
It was firm, overwhelming—driven by instinct.

“Nngh… Isagi—!”

Kurona gasped, wide-eyed.
But Isagi straddled him now, pressing him deeper into the sheet, kissing him again.

He changed the angle, invading Kurona’s mouth again and again.
Kurona, breathless, instinctively started breathing through his nose to stay conscious.

In his swirling, oxygen-starved thoughts, one fact burned clear:

Isagi Yoichi is kind.
Too kind.

If you reached out—he’d answer.
Always.

And that kindness, even if it was cruel, even if it wasn’t love—
Kurona couldn’t stop himself from feeling happy.

I love him, he thought. God, I love him.

And so, without resisting, he gave in.
Kurona accepted Isagi’s cruel kindness as if there had never been any choice to resist it.

◇

He didn’t know if this was truly what Kurona wanted.

But it was what he had wanted—what Isagi had done on instinct.

After calling a world without Isagi “pitch black,” Kurona had gone completely quiet.
His face was twisted in a tragic expression, lips drawn into a hard line, as if he’d fall apart if he spoke even a word.

And yet, the hand clinging to Isagi’s arm was clearly reaching for him.
After everything they’d been through together, Isagi felt like complaining—“Don’t you know how much time we’ve spent side by side?”

Isagi broke the long kiss and pulled back.
Kurona slowly narrowed his eyes, gazing at Isagi with a look full of affection.
His expression was one of release, as if something had been lifted from him—like he had severed himself from everything.

It pissed Isagi off more than he expected.
He cupped Kurona’s cheek and murmured:

“…Kurona. Do you love me?”

Kurona’s face flushed with such intensity it answered before he could even open his mouth.

“…Yeah. I love you. I just realized it earlier.”
“I see.”

Isagi answered calmly.
Then, after a few seconds of thought, he dropped a bomb:

“I love you too. Just realized it earlier.”
“Wh— Huh!? …The hell!?”

“Biggest reaction of the day,” Isagi snorted.

It was well past midnight.
When Kurona practically yelled, Isagi quickly shushed him with a raised finger.
Kurona clapped both hands over his mouth, still completely stunned.

“Y-you’re totally the type who falls for someone just ’cause they say they love you, right?”
“Yeah, probably.”

Kurona gaped.
Totally dumbfounded, unable to speak.
Isagi laughed, light and easy.

Seems Kurona had planned to go to hell alone.
But there was no need to decide that by himself.
Together—heaven or hell—anywhere would be fine with the right partner.

"You cried 'cause you didn’t want to be away from me, right? That’s pretty damn cute.”

The feelings Kurona directed at him were a little embarrassing. But more than that—Isagi wanted to return them.

“I might not be able to leave you now, Kurona.”
“……”
“Soccer might be a separate story, though.”
“I know, I know.”

In soccer, Isagi Yoichi was a player who couldn’t stay loyal to one person.
That was both his flaw and his strength.

His curiosity was insatiable—he couldn’t stay with just one.

“Kurona. Can I hug you again?”

He didn’t wait for a clear answer.
Isagi pulled Kurona into another embrace.

Kurona flinched, but didn’t resist.
He was completely swept along by Isagi’s pace.

It still felt like a dream.
Kurona shifted slightly and, almost secretly, pinched the skin on the back of his hand.
The pain registered clearly, and with a quiet sense of wonder, he hesitantly reached out to grasp Isagi’s sweatshirt.

“Wh… why’s this one so much more low-key?”

It had all gone so smoothly until now.
Was I pushing too hard? Had scared Kurona?
Seeing how he didn’t wrap his arms around him or fully close the distance, Isagi worried he’d gone too far.

“Well… I thought that one was going to be the last.”
“Bit of emotional overload, honestly.”
“Sorry, but… let me take this slow, yeah?”

Kurona pulled back a bit, looking at him apologetically.

“Goddamn it, you’re too cute.”

Isagi groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Then he thought—
If Kurona hadn’t come here today,
If they hadn’t had this conversation—
He might never have realized any of this.

—Planets don’t shine on their own.
They need the light of a star.

But stars and planets are drawn to one another.
They orbit, pulled by the same force.
They need each other.

Maybe, from the moment the word inevitable.“planet” was used to describe Isagi and Kurona’s relationship, this ending had already become inevitable.

【END】