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Chapter Text

The air in Barcelona was warm and humming with life. Tourists, locals, vendors, and street performers filled every corner, the sound of music and chatter blending like a living heartbeat.

Isagi Yoichi walked briskly down the stone-paved streets, trying not to stand out too much. But even halfway across the world, the occasional football fan still recognized him.

Just here to watch a match, he reminded himself, gripping the ticket in his pocket.

FC Barcha vs. Chicorid. Watching international talent live was part of his training now. Observe. Absorb. Evolve.

But first… food.

His stomach rumbled as if shouting over the crowd. After wandering for a few blocks, he stopped outside a quaint-looking restaurant with wooden signage: El Amuerzo.

He stepped inside.

It smelled incredible—garlic, seafood, something slightly smoky. The place was cozy, dimly lit, and filled with locals chatting casually. He sat at a corner table, the only tourist in sight.

The menu was dropped in front of him. All in Spanish.

“…What the hell is a sepia a la plancha?”

He frowned. Nothing made sense. No pictures either.

Across the room, someone caught his eye—a man sitting alone near the window. A baseball cap shaded his face, but what stood out was the stitched bunny emblem on it—scarred like it had seen war. The man himself bore a scar too, a cross-shaped one beneath his right eye that curved over the bridge of his nose. He was hunched over a plate, calmly eating, like he belonged to another world.

A bit suspicous.

Still, desperate times.

Isagi got up and walked over. “Uh, sorry, excuse me but what is this food called?” He said while pointing at the man's plate.

The man looked up slowly, eyes sharp but not unfriendly. He smiled, “Hola!”

"Hola," Isagi replied back.

The man tilted his head, clearly not understanding.

Right. Wait... Isagi dug into his pocket and pulled out one of his Mikage Corp earbuds. “Let’s make this easier.”

He handed the man one earbud. The man inspected it curiously, then inserted it without a word.

“Can you hear me now?” Isagi asked.

A pause—then the man’s eyes widened slightly, amused. “Yes. That’s much better.”

“Great,” Isagi exhaled. “So… what are you eating?”

“It’s Fideuà,” the man answered, slowly chewing. “It’s like paella. But instead of rice, it’s made with short noodles. Seafood, mostly.”

“Whoa,” Isagi blinked, looking closer. “Looks good.”

“It is,” the man replied with a faint smile.

“You should try it.”

A waiter passed nearby. Isagi flagged him and pointed to the man’s dish. “One of that, please.”

As the waiter nodded and left, the man leaned back, studying Isagi. “So… where are you from?”

“Japan,” Isagi said brightly, relaxing now that communication wasn’t a problem. “I just got here today.”

The man nodded slowly. “You came here alone?”

Isagi paused, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. First time traveling by myself, actually.”

The man raised an eyebrow, faintly amused. “So you’re not just excited, you’re also a little lost.”

Isagi scratched his cheek, smiling sheepishly. “Kind of. But it’s all part of the experience, right?”

The man hummed in response, tapping his fork against the plate. “Alone in a foreign country... That’s bold.”

Isagi’s smile grew a little more confident. “It’s scary, but I think that’s why it feels real.”

The man nodded. “And what brings you to Barcelona? Vacation?”

“Sort of,” Isagi said. “I’m here to watch the FC Barcha vs. Chicorid match tonight. I want to see how football is played here. How it feels in person.”

The man nodded. “You like football?”

“Yeah! The more I study it, the more I love it. It’s crazy how scientific it’s gotten, data, analysis, psychology. But also the way tactics evolve, and how formations shift over time… all of that’s fascinating to me.”

Isagi leaned forward with a huge grin, arms open. “But what really gets me is how a single player’s unique style, how they see the field, can influence everything. Shape trends. Inspire whole new systems. That’s why I’m so excited for tonight’s game.”

The man was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “I envy you.”

“You can talk about something you like with such excitement.”

“Huh?” Isagi tilted his head.

The man looked at him for a moment longer, expression unreadable beneath that battered cap.

“Seeing a joyful person like you,” he said, voice calm, almost casual, “makes me wanna die.”

The words hit like cold water.

Isagi blinked. “Huh—wait, what…?”

Isagi looked at the man, unsure if he’d misheard. But the man was still smiling, as if he’d just commented on the weather.

“I–I didn’t mean to say anything weird. Or bother you—really. I should probably go.”

But the man lifted a hand slightly, motioning him to wait. “Ah—wait, don’t go. I wasn’t blaming you.”

Isagi hesitated.

The man offered that same lopsided smile—soft around the mouth, but tired in the eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… the insensitive type.”

A beat of silence passed.

Then Isagi looked at him carefully, and said, voice lower now:

“But ever since I first laid eyes on you… you’ve had the saddest smile on your face.”

That froze the man. Just for a moment.

For the first time, the man’s smile faltered. His eyes widened slightly, just for a second before he regained his composure.

“That’s so rude,” he replied while pointing his fork at Isagi, almost playfully while smiling again.

But he didn’t deny it.

“But you're making that same face right now.”

The man’s gaze dropped, just briefly, before he leaned back in his seat. He kept the smile.

Then, casually, he stood up.

“All right,” he said. “Guess I’ll leave first, then. Thank you for the entertaining conversation.”

He tossed the earbud back to Isagi with a wink.

“Have fun with your football stuff.”

“Gracias!” Isagi replied with a cute smile while slightly blushing.

Isagi caught the earbud on reflex, watching him turn toward the door.

He was tall. Surprisingly tall. Isagi hadn’t noticed it while he was sitting, but now, there was an imposing presence about him. Not just his height, but the way he carried himself. Calm. Loose. Confident.

Before Isagi could say anything, the waiter returned and gently placed a steaming plate of fideuà in front of him.

He looked down at it, then glanced toward the door.

But the mysterious man was already gone.

The stadium lights flared to life like falling stars, illuminating the massive pitch below. Waves of cheers echoed around Isagi Yoichi as he found his seat near midfield — an incredible view, and exactly what he needed.

He scanned the players as they came out onto the field for warm-up. His eyes tracked their movements instinctively, noting formations, body language, rhythm.

Then he froze.

No way.

There — jogging across the pitch in FC Barcha’s kit — was him.

That scar.

The same cross-shaped one that curved beneath his eye and over the bridge of his nose.

It was unmistakable.

It was the man from the restaurant.

Isagi blinked hard, almost laughing to himself. “What the hell?”

Isagi fumbled for his phone and pulled up the match roster.

#19 – Bunny Iglesias

Position: Forward

Age: 19

Club: FC Barcha

Nationality: Spanish

Profile: Selected as a member of the “New Gen 11.” A rising star who will lead FC Barcha into the future. He joined the first team midway through the season and has since scored 11 goals.

Isagi just stared at the screen, dumbfounded.

He’s a pro?

A New Gen Eleven?!

One of the top eleven players under twenty in the world. And he hadn’t said a damn thing.

That tired smile. That weird honesty. That line — “Seeing someone joyful like you makes me wanna die.”

It all hit different now.

He definitely knew who Isagi was.

And he’d said nothing.

Down on the field, Bunny stood at the edge of the center circle, stretching one leg behind him lazily. His eyes swept across the stadium — and for the briefest second, they flicked upward.

Isagi stiffened.

Did he just look at him?

A smirk tugged at Bunny’s mouth. Just slightly. Then it was gone as he turned back to the field.

“Holy cow…”

Isagi leaned forward, adrenaline tingling in his fingertips.

The crowd was still thick, voices echoing as people filtered out into the city streets.

Isagi stood near one of the side exits, fiddling with his phone. He couldn’t stop watching the highlight clips.

That gravity-defying leap..

That ridiculous goal...

Bunny Iglesias.

New Gen 11.

19 years old.

Forward.

Nickname: El Conejo Volador — The Flying Bunny.

Then—

A voice, soft and amused, drifted behind him:

“Nos volvemos a encontrar, japonés.”

(We meet again, Japanese boy.)

Isagi turned fast, wide-eyed.

There he was.

Bunny Iglesias

A towel slung lazily around his neck, his FC Barcha jersey clinging to his frame with sweat. His hair was damp and messy, sticking to his forehead, and the scar beneath his eye somehow made him look even more striking under the floodlights.

His face. His proportions. The damp strands of hair across his forehead. The slight curve of his smirk.

Isagi inhaled. What the hell am I doing?

He wasn't studying a player anymore. He was watching him.

Isagi’s heart gave a weird little stutter.

Wait—what?

He shook his head, tearing his gaze away. No.

That wasn’t what this was. He was just surprised. That was all.

It had to be.

Right?

Isagi blinked. “Uh… what?”

Bunny’s lips curled into that same half-smile. “Ah. Right.”

He pointed to his ear, mimicking the motion from earlier.

Isagi scrambled for his bag, pulling out the Mikage Corp earbuds again.

They slipped them in.

A beat passed.

“…We meet again,” Bunny repeated in Japanese this time.

Isagi stared at him.

Then finally said, “You’re a player?!”

Bunny raised a brow while smiling brightly. “And you thought I was what, a food critic?”

Chapter Text

Isagi felt heat creep up the back of his neck.

“I just… You didn’t say anything,” he muttered, clutching his phone like it might help him balance.

Bunny shrugged, toweling the sweat from his neck. “You didn’t ask.”

“That’s not—!” Isagi stopped himself. “I mean—who does that?! You’re a New Gen Eleven. You’re, like… global.”

Bunny’s smirk softened, amused but not arrogant. “And you’re Yoichi Isagi. From Blue Lock. Who’s also… kinda global.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

Isagi opened his mouth. Closed it. “I don’t—”

Bunny leaned casually against a nearby railing, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were sharp now — curious. Like he was the one analyzing Isagi now.

“I watched your game,” he said. “The way you see the field. That last goal? With the pass from Ness? That was nasty.”

A jolt went through Isagi’s spine. “You watched that match?”

Bunny nodded. “Of course. You think people in Spain aren’t keeping tabs on Blue Lock?”

Isagi blinked. “But you didn’t say anything earlier.”

Bunny looked away for a second. His jaw shifted like he was chewing on a thought.

Then he said, “Sometimes it’s nice. Not being recognized. Not being 'Bunny’ for a few minutes. Just… being a guy.”

That hit harder than Isagi expected.

He swallowed. “Yeah...I think I understand.”

A long moment passed.

The noise of the stadium felt far away now — blurred out under the weight of the moment. Just the two of them, standing near the exit, spotlighted by a soft overhead floodlight that painted everything in gentle blues and silvers.

Bunny tilted his head. “I liked you better before you knew who I was.”

Isagi blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“You were real. You didn’t treat me like a superstar.”

Isagi hesitated. “Do people do that a lot?”

Bunny didn’t answer right away. Then, with a softer tone, “Too often.”

For a second, there was no cocky smile.

Isagi felt something stir in his chest.

He shifted his weight, awkward. “Well… I guess I kinda liked you before I knew, too.”

Bunny’s eyes flicked up.

“Not in a weird way,” Isagi blurted quickly, ears heating. As he put his hands up defensively. “Just—you were easy to talk to. Like I could be myself.”

Bunny smiled. Then, almost absentmindedly, he lifted a hand — resting his knuckles loosely against his lips, like he was trying to hold something back.

“You’re kinda cute, you know that?”

Isagi froze.

His brain blanked, heat flooding his face. “Wh—huh?!”

“You can’t just—say that—” Isagi sputtered, stepping back half a step like it might cool him down. “Seriously?!”

Bunny pushed off the railing, stepping a bit closer.

There was something quieter now in his expression — still teasing, but measured. Thoughtful. Isagi could smell the sweat and grass still clinging to him — clean, earthy, real. The distance between them was comfortable, but charged.

Bunny chuckled, letting his hand drop from his mouth. “Relax. I meant it in a good way.”

Isagi looked away quickly, ears burning. “You’re seriously messing with me…”

“Maybe,” Bunny said, voice low and amused. “But you make it fun.”

Isagi glanced back at him, scowling — but it didn’t quite land, not with the way his heart was still thudding.

“You always get this flustered?” Bunny added, taking half a step closer, clearly enjoying himself now.

Isagi straightened, trying — and failing — to look composed. “No... Just when weird pro players flirt out of nowhere.”

A voice called out, firm but polite. “Iglesias. We’re leaving.”

They both turned slightly. A suited attendant stood a few meters away, waiting patiently but clearly on a schedule.

Bunny clicked his tongue, annoyed but unsurprised. “Right…”

He turned back to Isagi, then looked toward the attendant. “Hey—got a pen on you?”

The man blinked, then handed one over without question.

Bunny clicked it open and looked at Isagi.

“Give me your hand.”

Isagi hesitated, confused. “Huh?”

“C’mon,” Bunny said with a small grin. “Don’t make me write it on your forehead.”

Reluctantly — heart pounding for some reason he refused to name — Isagi held out his hand.

Bunny took it gently, held it steady, and scribbled something quickly across his palm.

A number.

“Almost forgot,” he said, voice quieter now. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Then he reached up and pulled the earbud from his ear, holding it out between his fingers.

Isagi took it from him, their fingers brushing just slightly.

Bunny took a step back, his smile tilting to one side.

“Nos vemos, Yoichi.”

(See you later, Yoichi.)

And with that, he turned and walked off, towel slung over his shoulder, the lights catching the edges of his hair as he disappeared into the tunnel.

Isagi stared down at his hand, the number inked across his skin.

And smiled — just a little.

The hotel room was quiet.

Muted daylight leaked through the curtains, painting dull streaks across the walls. The air conditioner hummed softly in the background.

Isagi sat near the window, slouched in the single armchair, a paper cup of lobby coffee cradled between his hands.

His gaze drifted to the phone resting on the bedside table. Blank screen. No notifications.

His thumb twitched.

He should stretch. Prep his gear. Do something.

Instead, he sat still. Thinking about last night.

Then—

A sharp buzz.

His phone lit up.

Isagi's heart skipped — and he moved before thinking, reaching for it with almost embarrassing speed.

[1 New Message]

He tapped the screen, already bracing himself for disappointment.

[Bunny Iglesias]: You wanna grab food later? Same place we met. 19:00.

[Isagi Yoichi]: Yeah. I’ll be there.

The restaurant looked exactly like it had the first time — golden lights spilling through the windows, the low hum of voices rising and falling like the sea.

Isagi stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room.

It didn’t take long to find him.

Same table. Same seat. Same plate of fideuà.

Bunny Iglesias sat in the corner, shoulders hunched slightly, head lowered — but the familiar battered black cap with red stripes and with the stitched bunny emblem gave him away instantly.

His face was mostly shadowed beneath the brim, but as Isagi approached, he looked up.

Bunny’s eyes flicked up, a slow smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Bienvenido de nuevo.” he said softly.

(Welcome back.)

Isagi blinked, caught off guard.

“Uh… what?” he stammered, cheeks flushing faintly as realization dawned on him.

Bunny chuckled quietly and pointed to his ear.

“Oh… right. The language thing…”

He fumbled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, then hastily reached into his pocket. His hand trembled slightly as he pulled out one of his Mikage Corp earbuds.

Isagi’s face heated further as he sheepishly held out the earbud.

Without missing a beat, Bunny took it and slipped it into his ear. A soft chime chimed between them.

“Welcome back,” Bunny repeated in Japanese, eyes locking with Isagi’s.

Isagi nodded, sliding into the seat across from him. “Thanks...but ehm...”

Isagi’s eyes flicked to the plate of fideuà sitting untouched in front of Bunny.

“You already ordered?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you supposed to order together… on a date or something?”

Bunny’s grin deepened, sharp and amused. “Oh? So this is a date now?” he teased.

Isagi’s face immediately flamed red, his breath hitching. “W-wait, no, that’s not what I meant!” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, words spilling out faster than he could manage.

“I mean—ordering together isn’t, like, a mandatory thing or anything, right? It’s not a rule! People order separately all the time. So, it’s totally fine if you just… ordered. On your own. Maybe you were super hungry or maybe you already knew what you wanted—honestly, that makes sense. Not that I was expecting us to, like, order together or anything weird like that! It’s just—well—you haven’t even touched your food yet, but that’s totally your business, and I’m not judging or anything, I just—uh—forget it.

And also—like—who even calls it a date these days?! That’s not what I meant! I just meant like… food. Two guys getting food. That’s normal. This is normal. I mean—are we really gonna get stuck on semantics? I’m not that kind of guy. Seriously. I came here to eat and maybe—maybe—talk about football if you want to? You don't have to, not like I am forcing you to talk about football. That’s all!

Like, FC Barcha’s press structure is insane, the way they use spacing and tempo to manipulate passing lanes—it’s genius. And that goal you scored last match? You literally flew. I swear! You jumped so high I thought you were flying for a second. Like—was that planned? Did you read the defender’s blind spot ahead of time or was that pure instinct? Either way, it was crazy—so it’s not like I’m saying this is a da—wait, what are you—mmph?!”

Bunny’s hand shot forward, shoving a forkful of steaming fideuà into Isagi’s mouth before he could finish.

The taste bloomed in his mouth — warm and rich, like a hug from the inside. The noodles were soft, kissed with garlic and olive oil, and the shrimp was perfectly tender, buttery with just a hint of sweetness. A faint smoky flavor lingered at the edges, grounding the dish like a quiet warmth. Isagi blinked, a little dazed...

It was... really good.

“It’s delicious, right?” Bunny said with a teasing smile.

Isagi blinked, cheeks blooming into a warm, rosy pink that spread across his face like the first light of dawn. His heart hammered as he hurried to chew and swallow, completely caught off guard.

When he finally managed to swallow, he shot Bunny a half-exasperated, half-embarrassed glare. “Hey! You can’t just—”

Bunny cut him off with a lazy smile, voice low and teasing:

“Too much talking. You’re kind of adorable when you don't talk.”

Isagi’s heart hammered against his ribs, and he could practically feel the heat crawling up his neck again. Isagi’s eyes darted away, his cheeks deepening to a soft, glowing red. He folded his arms and pouted, lower lip jutting out just a bit.

“F-fine… I won’t say another word then,” he muttered, voice small but stubborn.

Bunny chuckled softly, resting his chin lightly in his hand as he leaned in just a little. His eyes locked onto Isagi’s metallic blue gaze with a teasing intensity.

“But honestly...you’re pretty captivating when you ramble.”

Isagi opened his mouth to reply, but before a word could escape, the restaurant door swung open with a sharp bang.

A stern voice cut through the quiet.

“Bunny Iglesias.”

Both their heads snapped toward the entrance.

There stood Itoshi Sae, his eyes blazing with anger. His gaze locked onto Bunny.

Chapter Text

The restaurant had gone quiet.

All the warm, golden light suddenly felt a little too bright. A little too exposed.

Isagi stared at the doorway, heart thudding.

Itoshi Sae stood in the entrance like a glitch in the atmosphere—cool, composed, but unmistakably irritated. His teal eyes locked on Bunny with the kind of sharp, silent judgment only Sae could wield.

“Bunny Iglesias,” he said again, tone flat. “What are you doing?”

Bunny didn’t flinch.

He sat back in his seat, smiling, a single brow arched like he was trying not to laugh.

“Eating,” Bunny said simply. “With someone special.”

Isagi, who had just swallowed the last bite of fideuà, stiffened. His eyes darted to Bunny in disbelief, then quickly away.

“Stop bothering Isagi Yoichi.”

Bunny didn’t flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Didn’t know conversation and enjoying a meal together qualified as harassment.”

Sae’s jaw tightened. “You know what I mean.”

Bunny leaned back in his chair, casual — but the air shifted.

“I asked him to dinner. He said yes. Doesn’t seem like he’s being bothered.”

Bunny tilted his head slightly. “I don’t remember inviting you, though.”

Sae’s voice cut in, cool and razor-sharp. “Isagi’s got enough distractions already without you adding to the noise. If you care about him at all, you’ll back off.”

But Bunny’s smile only widened, soft and razor-sharp. “Yoichi’s here because he wants to be. Not because I dragged him.”

Bunny glanced over at Isagi, still smiling. As he reached across the table, his fingers brushed lightly against Isagi’s before gently taking his hand.

“Right, Yoichi?”

Isagi jolted slightly, eyes darting down to their joined hands. A faint blush bloomed across his cheeks. Isagi blinked, stumbling over his words as he tried to steady his racing heart. “Y-Yeah… I came on my own.”

Bunny’s grip softened, and after a brief pause, he gently released Isagi’s hand.

Bunny turned back to Sae. “There you go. No chains. No manipulation. Just two people sharing a meal. So what exactly are you upset about?”

He leaned back leisurely in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, perfectly composed. “You came in here ready to blow up a quiet dinner over nothing. Over me existing. You’re pissed because you can’t control who he talks to. Who Yoichi spends time with.”

Then he tilted his head again, as if honestly curious.

“But tell me something, Sae — why aren’t you the one having dinner with Yoichi tonight?”

Sae stiffened.

Bunny let that silence hang for just a beat before continuing, voice light, but deliberate.

Sae took another step forward, hand twitching at his side like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch something or restrain himself.

“Have you ever asked him to hang out? To talk? Have you ever asked him to dinner? Or coffee? To actually spend time with him — outside of football?”

Sae’s expression flickered — just for a second — something between realization and regret.

Bunny caught it instantly.

He cocked an eyebrow, voice dipped in mocking curiosity.

“Do you even have his number?”

Sae froze — just for a second. His mouth parted like he was about to say something, then shut again. Whatever reply he’d been holding onto dissolved before it reached his lips. His eyes dropped to the floor, and stayed there. Like he couldn’t meet Bunny's gaze anymore.

Sae didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Bunny sighed softly, then slowly raised his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head.

“Thought so. You walk in here, fuming like you’ve been wronged, but you’ve never even tried to be part of his life.”

“So why are you acting all jealous now? Like you suddenly care? ’Cause let’s be honest — this isn’t about Yoichi. It’s not even about me.”

“This is about you and Rin Itoshi. Your little brother, the one you left behind in Japan when you came to Spain. You see Yoichi Isagi with someone else and it burns, not because of him—but because he reminds you of Rin.”

Bunny uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his red eyes stripped of their earlier warmth, now cold and empty.

“Honestly, Sae, what a dramatic entrance. Scaring the whole restaurant and ruining the mood. Enough with the theatrics. If you can’t manage your own family drama, maybe try not dragging it into public—and spare the other guests your temper tantrums. This is a restaurant, not your personal battlefield.”

Bunny gave a slow, pitying shake of his head. 

“That’s what really burns, doesn’t it? That all you’ve got is this half-baked anger — loud, messy, and lukewarm at best. Same as always.”

“Your football skills might’ve improved, but everything else? Half-baked feelings and lukewarm convictions.”

Sae’s gaze hardened, eyes sharp and seething, burning with extreme intensity.

Bunny was wearing a confident smile, his eyes narrowing into amused crescents, radiating calm and quiet control as he watched Sae flare up.

But Sae’s composure shattered completely. His teal eyes burned with raw anger as he exploded.

“Don’t you dare bring my brother into this, you smug, manipulative piece of shit,” Sae snarled, stepping forward, his voice rising. “You think this is funny? Making a mockery of everything? Of me?”

Sae didn’t wait for a reply — the words came spilling out in a furious stream, bitter and venomous.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me. Or Rin,” Sae snapped, his voice rising, sharp with fury.

A waiter approached, nervous but trying to keep their tone firm.

“Sir. Please lower your voice or we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

But Sae didn’t even hear him. His voice rose, cracking like a whip — sharp, ragged, and practically unhinged.

“You think you can bring up my brother like you know him?! Like you know me?!”

His fists were clenched at his sides, shoulders trembling.

“You don’t know fuck all about what I’ve been through. What I’ve given up. What I’ve had to throw away. What I’ve had to become just to survive!”

Another staff member, older and clearly more authoritative, came briskly from the back. His expression was apologetic—but firm.

“Sir, if you don’t calm down immediately, we’ll have to call the police.”

Isagi exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, visibly agitated now.

Isagi suddenly sat up straighter, pushing his chair back a few inches with a sharp scrape against the floor.

“OKAY—ENOUGH,” he said.

Both Sae and Bunny, no, everyone glanced at him.

Isagi’s hands were clenched on the table, knuckles faintly white. “I’m right here. I don’t need either of you speaking for me like I’m not.”

Isagi turned to Sae, tone steady but frustrated. “If you wanted to talk, you could’ve just done that. You didn’t have to make a scene.”

Then he looked at Bunny, expression softening—but only slightly. “And you. You’re not helping.”

There was a tense pause.

Sae didn’t move.

His chest heaved, breath sharp through his nose. For a second, it looked like he might say something else — something worse — but then his eyes caught Isagi’s.

Not wide-eyed. Not fearful. Just… disappointed and sad.

That single look knocked the air out of him harder than any insult could.

The silence between all three of them crackled like a live wire.

The older staff member stepped forward again, firmer this time. “Sir.”

Sae blinked, like coming up for air.

He turned on his heel without another word, footsteps sharp against the polished floor as he stalked out of the restaurant — jaw tight, hands still balled into fists at his sides.

The moment the door swung shut behind him, the tension seemed to exhale all at once. Conversations resumed in hushed murmurs. The staff slowly returned to their posts.

Bunny turned back to Isagi, then casually spearing another bite of fideuà.

Isagi just stared at his empty plate for a second, the echo of Sae’s words still ringing in his ears.

Then, quietly Isagi asked:

“…Did you have to push him like that?”

Bunny’s chewing paused.

He didn’t look up right away — just let the silence settle around them as he slowly finished the bite. Then he placed his fork down with deliberate care, and this time, he lifted his gaze and met Isagi’s eyes.

His red eyes softened — the cold, empty eyes that had cut through Sae earlier melting into something quieter. Warmer. Like the heat of a candle reigniting after a gust of wind. The same light Isagi had seen before Sae came — when it was just the two of them, sharing a table, laughing, existing in a space untouched by anything else.

It was a look only meant for him.

“I didn’t start it,” Bunny said, voice low. Not defensive. Just calm and soft. “But I wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that. Not in front of you.”

Isagi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze flicking down again — until Bunny leaned forward, elbows on the table, and tilted his head slightly, catching his eyes again.

“I didn’t want this to happen, Yoichi,” he said quietly. “None of that drama. That wasn’t what tonight was supposed to be.”

“I just… I was really looking forward to this. Just sitting here, sharing food, listening to you ramble about football. I didn’t come here to fight anyone.”

Bunny paused, then gave a little wave with one hand, like brushing off a bad mood.

“Let’s forget about all that, yeah?” he said gently. 

He nodded toward Isagi’s empty place setting.

“Why don’t you order something? You didn’t even get to look at the menu before all that happened.”

Then, with a softer glint in his eyes:

“And when you’re done, we’re getting dessert. The flan here’s incredible — light, smooth, caramel on top. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

Isagi blinked. “Flan?”

Bunny perked up a little. “You’ve never had flan?”

Isagi shook his head. “Nope. What is it?”

“It’s a dessert that’s soft and smooth—like a creamy, sweet jelly that melts the moment it touches your tongue. It’s topped with this rich, slightly bitter caramel sauce that cuts through the sweetness just enough to make you want more. Simple, but unforgettable.”

Isagi thought for a moment. “So… kind of like pudding?”

Bunny’s eyes narrowed, mock serious.

“No. Don’t compare flan to sad plastic-cup pudding.”

Isagi blinked, then cracked a small smile.

“Alright… you’ve convinced me.”

Chapter Text

Bunny leaned back with a satisfied little grin. “Good. Then it’s settled — we’re getting the flan.”

When it arrived, the plate was simple but elegant: pale custard glistening under a thin sheen of caramel, spoon already set to the side. Bunny slid it toward the center of the table and picked up the utensil with a playful flourish.

“First bite’s yours,” he said.

Isagi blinked. “I can get it myself—”

“Ah, ah. Don’t ruin the moment.” Bunny dipped the spoon into the custard, carved out a neat bite, and lifted it across the table. His eyes gleamed red under the golden light, fixed on Isagi with an intensity that made his throat go dry.

“…Open.”

Isagi hesitated, cheeks warming. But Bunny didn’t move, didn’t blink. His hand hovered steady between them, spoon glinting, his expression daring Isagi to refuse.

Against his better judgment, Isagi leaned forward and let the bite slip past his lips. The flan was soft, smooth, dissolving instantly on his tongue. But the taste wasn’t what made his chest tighten. It was Bunny’s gaze — fixed, patient, devouring him more than the dessert.

“Well?” Bunny asked, voice low.

“…It’s good,” Isagi muttered, forcing his eyes down, but that only made him more aware of the spoon withdrawing, Bunny’s fingers brushing his lip just faintly as he pulled it back.

“Good,” Bunny murmured, dipping the spoon again. “Another?”

Isagi swallowed hard, but his nod was almost imperceptible.

Bunny’s smile deepened. He didn’t bring the next bite immediately to Isagi’s mouth — instead, he paused halfway, holding the spoon between them. His other hand slid across the table, palm open, warm fingers curling lightly over Isagi’s wrist.

“You know,” Bunny said softly, almost conversational, “you’re a lot cuter when you’re nervous.”

Isagi stiffened, pulse spiking under Bunny’s thumb.

Bunny tilted his head. “Makes me wonder, Yoichi… how would you taste if it wasn’t caramel on your lips?”

The spoon clinked softly against the plate as he set it aside.

Then he leaned across the table, slow and deliberate, leaving no space for Isagi to mistake his intent. His voice dropped to a whisper, just for him.

“…Want me to find out?”

Bunny’s face drew closer, the heat of his breath brushing against Isagi’s skin.

But before his lips could touch, Isagi jolted back a few inches, his chair creaking.

“W-Wait—” His voice came out more desperate than he meant it to, and he scrambled to steady it. “Bunny. We’re… we’re in public. At a restaurant.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Bunny’s eyes lingered, half-lidded, amused, and just a little predatory. Then his smile returned — slow, sly, curling like smoke.

“So…” He leaned back in his chair, but never took his eyes off Isagi. “…It’s fine if it’s in private?”

The question wasn’t asked innocently. It was a challenge, a promise, a taunt all at once.

Isagi flushed, fumbling. “That’s not— I mean—” His hand tightened on the edge of the table. “…You’re moving too fast.”

Bunny tilted his head, studying him, eyes gleaming like he was trying to read every flicker of hesitation. Then, instead of pushing further, he gave a light laugh, easy and disarming.

“Fast, huh? Guess I got carried away.” He picked up the spoon again, scooping another bite of flan and eating it himself this time. “Don’t worry, Yoichi. I can take things slow.”

He licked the edge of the spoon with deliberate care, then let it clink against the plate again.

“Besides…” His voice softened, warm, almost teasing. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Bunny didn’t push further. He simply leaned back, giving Isagi space, and the moment of heat settled into something quieter. Cozier.

The rest of the flan disappeared slowly between them — a bite for Isagi, a bite for Bunny, back and forth like a silent truce. Neither of them said much, but the air stayed charged, every brush of fingers against the spoon a reminder of the almost-kiss that hadn’t happened.

When the plates were cleared, Bunny asked for the check with his usual ease, slipping the waiter a bill before Isagi could even think about arguing.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” Bunny cut in smoothly, his red eyes catching Isagi’s as he stood. “Don’t fight me on this one.”

Isagi sighed, but he didn’t push it. He followed Bunny out into the cool night air, the noise of the city rushing around them after the muffled warmth of the restaurant.

For a moment, they just stood there on the sidewalk. The glow of streetlamps painted soft halos in Bunny’s hair, and the faint trace of caramel still lingered in Isagi’s mouth.

Bunny slipped his hands into his pockets, tilting his head toward him. “So,” he said casually, “what now? Wanna call it a night… or keep me company a little longer?”

The way he said it left no doubt what “longer” could mean — but his tone wasn’t forceful. It was an open door, waiting to see if Isagi would step through.

Isagi glanced down at his shoes, then back up at Bunny. “...A little longer,” he admitted quietly.

Bunny’s smile widened, soft but unmistakably pleased. “Good answer.”

They fell into step together, the city fading behind them as they wandered toward the quieter paths of a nearby park. The night air carried the smell of grass and faint flowers, cicadas humming somewhere in the distance. Their shoulders brushed once, twice, and every time Isagi felt his chest tighten.

For a while, it was just walking, just breathing, just existing beside each other. Then Bunny broke the silence, voice low and casual.

“You’re awfully quiet, Yoichi. Usually I can’t get you to shut up about football.”

Isagi huffed softly. “Yeah, well… a lot happened back there.”

“Mm.” Bunny shot him a sidelong look, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Still thinking about me almost kissing you?”

Isagi sputtered, heat rushing into his cheeks. “T-that’s not—!”

Bunny chuckled under his breath. “Cute.”

Isagi shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to combust on the spot. “Idiot…”

They strolled quietly for a few minutes, the gravel crunching underfoot, the occasional hum of cicadas in the air. It was calm — almost too calm.

Then, as they rounded a bend, Bunny suddenly reached out and grabbed Isagi’s wrist.

“Get down.”

“Huh—?!”

Before Isagi could protest, Bunny tugged him sharply off the path, pulling him down into the shadow of some tall bushes. The damp grass pressed against his palms as he crouched, eyes wide.

“Wh-what are you—”

“Shh.” Bunny pressed a finger to his lips, eyes glinting with quiet mischief. Then he nodded toward the clearing just beyond the shrubs.

Isagi followed his gaze—

—and froze.

There, only a few meters away, a man and woman were tangled together on the park bench, moving with frantic, shameless rhythm. The man’s head was buried against the woman’s neck, her gasps breaking the night air, her nails digging into his back as his hips slammed against hers in desperate, raw need.

Isagi’s entire face went hot. He tore his gaze away instantly, pressing both hands over his face.

“Oh my god—” His voice cracked into a frantic whisper. “They’re— they’re actually—!”

Beside him, Bunny didn’t move. He just leaned on one knee, watching the scene with a lazy smirk, red eyes flicking toward Isagi instead of the couple.

“Mm. Looks like we stumbled on the late-night entertainment.”

“Bunny, what the hell—!” Isagi hissed, still hiding behind his hands. His ears burned, his heart hammering in his chest. “Why are we even hiding?! We should just— just go the other way!”

Bunny tilted his head, clearly amused by Isagi’s fluster. “And miss the show? Shame.”

Isagi groaned, burying deeper into his hands. “Bunny—!”

Bunny didn’t move, his eyes still on the couple—but then he tilted his head slightly, letting a sly smile tug at his lips.

“If it were us… would you hide your face the same way?” he asked, voice low and teasing.

Isagi’s hands froze over his face. He peeked between his fingers, heart hammering. “…W-what do you mean?!”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Bunny said softly, leaning just enough closer that Isagi could feel his presence pressing against him. “If it were me and you… in their place… would you be covering your face too?”

Isagi’s blush deepened to burning red. His hands clutched at the grass beneath him as he stammered, “I-I… I’m—n-not like that! I like girls! I’m— I’m not interested in guys!”

“Mm. Straight, huh?” He tilted his head, red eyes gleaming in the dark. “Funny, how you go red every time I get close to you.”

Isagi’s mouth opened, then shut again. He swallowed hard, clutching at the grass like it might anchor him. “That’s— that’s different! You just— you get too close, that’s all—”

Bunny chuckled low, leaning even closer, their shoulders pressing, his lips near Isagi’s ear. “You can say whatever you want, Yoichi. But your body doesn’t lie.”

Isagi’s breath hitched, sharp and shaky. He turned away, burying his face in his hands again, wishing he could disappear, be back in Blue Lock.

Isagi groaned into his palms, wishing desperately that the ground would swallow him. “B-Bunny… please… I—this is ridiculous. Let’s just go.”

Bunny tilted his head, amusement flickering across his features. “Go? Where? We’ve barely started our evening adventure. Besides…” He leaned a little closer, voice low, teasing, just above a whisper. “I think you’re enjoying this way more than you admit.”

“I’m not! I—this has nothing to do with me!” Isagi sputtered, fists tightening in the damp grass.

Bunny’s eyes glinted, sharp and knowing. “You can keep telling yourself that, Yoichi. But your body’s saying otherwise. Heart racing, cheeks burning… you’re not exactly fooling anyone.”

Isagi’s stomach twisted. He peeked again through his fingers, catching Bunny’s red eyes fixed on him, and immediately slammed his hands back over his face. “…I can’t believe this,” he muttered, voice muffled. “I… I don’t even—”

Bunny let out a low laugh, soft and deliberate, brushing one finger along Isagi’s shoulder as if to punctuate the moment. “It’s okay… you don’t have to say anything. Just… feel it for now.”

Isagi froze at the touch, then jerked back instinctively, cheeks flaming hotter than before.

“B-Bunny! STOP—!” he shouted, panic making his voice crack.

Immediately, his heart sank. The couple on the bench froze mid-motion, heads snapping toward the bushes, eyes wide with alarm.

“Is someone… there?!” the man hissed, voice sharp and tense.

The woman gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh my god… someone is watching us?!”

Isagi’s ears burned hotter than ever. “O-Oh no… oh no oh no oh no—!” he hissed, pressing both hands to his face and crouching lower. “They heard me! They heard us! I’m—!”

Bunny’s smirk faltered for just a moment as he quickly assessed the situation. Then he leaned down, grabbing Isagi by the wrist firmly.

“Alright, enough,” Bunny said, voice low but urgent. “Time to go now.”

Isagi scrambled to his feet, still red-faced, stumbling over the grass as Bunny pulled him toward the path. “B-Bunny! Do you think they saw me? I’m—!”

“Shh! Move, Yoichi!” Bunny hissed, tugging him along. His smirk returned as he glanced back once, red eyes glinting with mischief. “This will make a hell of a story someday… if you survive it.”

Isagi’s knees felt like jelly as they burst onto the path, hearts hammering. He couldn’t believe what just happened. “I… I can’t believe that—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bunny interrupted, letting go of his wrist but keeping pace beside him. “Let’s just… get the hell out of here before they get any ideas.”

They ran a few steps, laughing breathlessly, adrenaline still pumping. The park stretched around them, quiet except for the distant hum of the city and cicadas. Isagi pressed his face into his hands, cheeks still blazing.

Bunny stopped mid-step, pulling his phone from his pocket with a sly grin. “Wait a sec,” he said, tilting his head toward Isagi. “I want a picture. Of us. Of this moment. A memory of tonight, just… you and me.”

Isagi froze, heart skipping. “A… a picture? Now?”

“Yeah,” Bunny said, eyes glinting. “But we need a spot where no one will see. Let’s go over there.” He nodded toward a small public toilet tucked behind some bushes.

Isagi’s eyes widened. “…Uh… that place? Bunny, it’s… kind of dirty.”

Bunny laughed softly, looping an arm through his. “It’s fine. Nobody’s coming in. Trust me.”

Isagi hesitated, stepping back. “I… I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bad idea. What if… what if someone sees the picture?”

Bunny tilted his head, his red eyes gleaming gently. “Hey… it’s just for me. I won’t show it to anyone else. Nobody else will see it. Please Yoichi, for me?”

Isagi fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, chewing his lip. “…Okay… I guess… if it’s just… for you.”

“Good.” Bunny tilted his head, narrowing his eyes in mock offense. “I’m a little hurt you doubted me, you know.”

Isagi’s cheeks heated again. “…I just… don’t like it being public, that’s all.”

Bunny’s grin widened as he lead Isagi toward the restroom. 

Once inside, Bunny positioned himself slightly above Isagi, holding the phone high and angling it downwards. “Alright… peace sign. Cute face. That’s perfect,” he teased.

Isagi hesitated, hands trembling slightly, then raised two fingers, cheeks flaming.

Bunny’s grin softened into something warmer, encouraging. “Yes… exactly like that. So cute, Yoichi. Seriously… adorable. Look at you, all flustered and perfect.”

Isagi blinked, heart racing, heat creeping into his ears. “I… I’m… not that cute—”

“You are,” Bunny interrupted, voice low and teasing, leaning closer. “You look amazing. I could stare at that face all night.”

Bunny snapped a quick selfie, still holding the camera above them. Then he leaned slightly closer, his grin mischievous. “But… I think it could be even better.”

“…Better?” Isagi asked nervously, gripping his shirt.

“Yeah,” Bunny murmured. “Bite your shirt… just lift it a little. Show me your navel and abs. Quick, I promise. Just for us. Nobody else around.”

Isagi froze, stomach twisting. “…B-Bunny… I… I don’t know if I—”

“It’s just me,” Bunny said softly, leaning in. “You’ll be fine. For me, pretty please?”

Trembling, Isagi bit his shirt and lifted it just enough to reveal the curve of his navel and faint lines of his abs. Bunny angled the phone perfectly above them and snapped the selfie, capturing their faces side by side—Bunny grinning, Isagi blushing furiously.

Bunny’s eyes softened, admiring him. “Yes… that’s perfect. You’re… so cute, flustered like this. Honestly, you look amazing, Yoichi. Just… perfect.”

Isagi quickly tugged his shirt back down, heart hammering. “…I… I can’t believe I did that…”

Bunny chuckled, looping an arm around his shoulder. “Relax. It’s just for me, a little memory of tonight. Something special we can keep to ourselves.”

Isagi exhaled shakily, cheeks still flaming, while Bunny’s red eyes gleamed, clearly pleased with their little secret.

Bunny’s smile lingered, but once Isagi’s attention drifted for a moment—fidgeting with his shirt, cheeks still bright—Bunny subtly unlocked his phone. A few quick taps later, the photo they’d just taken appeared on the screen.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself, fingers dancing over the screen. With a sly glance around the empty restroom, he sent it to Sae with a single, silent swipe.

The phone buzzed briefly, confirming the message had been delivered. Bunny’s grin deepened, satisfied, but he didn’t let a trace of it show to Isagi. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, letting his arm rest casually around Isagi’s shoulders as if nothing had happened.

“Ready to head out?” Bunny asked lightly, his tone easy, teasing.

Isagi glanced up, completely unaware, cheeks still pink and stomach fluttering. “Y-Yeah… let’s go…”

Bunny just smirked faintly, keeping his secret tucked away for himself—and for someone else who would appreciate it even more.