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A satisfying arc of the ball into the net. That is all he sees before the world explodes into colour and noise envelops the stadium. The final whistle blows, announcing the end to the U20 worldcup, and all Itoshi Rin can feel is a distinct sense of emptiness. He can vaguely hear the sound of his teammates screaming, though it all sounds foggy, like he retreated into a dark corner of his mind and watches passively as his body acts on autopilot mode. They just won, he can see Loki fuming on the other end of the pitch, so why does he feel so…empty?
His teammates move around him like the current of a raging river, threatening to drag him along to the festivities against his will. Before he gives up on resisting the push of bodies and drowning, his gaze catches on a solitary figure standing off to the side, pushing a hand through their hair, the total epitome of calm and nonchalance. He starts without even having to think about him, his feet carrying him towards the source of his everything.
His reason for playing, his ultimate goal, his best friend, his only true family, the first person in Rin’s life. Sae’s eyes barely pass over him before he looks away, as if avoiding the conversation he knew was coming. “Big brother, I beat you.” Rin states, because it’s not a question anymore. That final goal had secured his superiority over Sae, therefore meeting his ultimate want. His voice still sounded just slightly in awe, despite everything.
The man before him finally turns to face Rin, his expression not wavering in the slightest.
“Yes. You did. You’ve finally hit your maximum potential, as I had intended all along. Don’t you get it now, Rin? You don’t need me to play football, you never have. All you need now is someone else to chase, and you’ll keep getting better.” The admission that he was better feels oddly cathartic, but everything else that comes after it is so…casual. Painfully so.
It’s like his brother can’t get that it isn’t so easy to find another rival, that nothing would ever compare to the sadness and anger that has been consuming him since he was fifteen. How could he possibly play without running solely on those intense feelings? He can sense them melting away now, leaving his insides hollow. Shouldn’t this be freeing? The weight of all that anger was gone now, shouldn’t he be able to take normal breaths without feeling it now?
He tests that theory, and realises he’s forgotten how to breathe without it. He’d gotten so used to lugging around hate everywhere that it feels unnatural to leave it behind now. A sense of weird loss and confusion hits him, what is he supposed to do now? Everything is changing, and he is stuck here alone, with no purpose and no plan. Through the corner of his eye, he sees Isagi and Bachira look in his direction, and chooses to make a bee-line towards the locker rooms. He doesn’t think he can stand their positivity right now, not when he feels such visceral emotion.
This entire situation reminds him of the Blue Lock vs. U20 match, where he ran to the locker room due to the sheer intensity of his hate. That was simpler, though, because he could at least direct his emotions at someone and keep moving with that goal in mind. Right now, his entire being had just become redundant. He’d achieved everything he ever wanted in life, and now he was ready to ‘die’. A blurry memory from when he was a child resurfaces. He recalls telling Sae that he wanted to die spectacularly, destroying himself as he gave his everything to beat the hero. It seemed like Rin had never considered what he’d do if he won, and now the city was burnt up, and there was nothing left to destroy.
He was a lonely monster, with no civilians to invoke fear in and no heroes to beat. What does one do when they achieve their life goal prematurely and now no longer see a reason to play the sport that governed their life? The gravity of the situation starts to play on his mind. He has no other hobbies. No acquaintances not connected to football. No plans for his future if he ever decided not to go pro. A wave of nausea encapsulates his body, and he doubles over with a hand pressed to his mouth as the thought of being so terrifyingly unprepared for the future overwhelms his every thought.
A knock sounds through the room, breaking him out of his growing panic. Isagi’s disgusting soft and comforting voice calls for him through the silence.
“Rin, are you okay? You walked off after we won. Everyone’s looking for you.” Before Rin can even pick the pieces of himself back up and pretend to be whole, the other boy goes on.
“I’m coming in.” The door pushes open, revealing Isagi with a worried expression on his face that sickens him to the core. He hates the thought of there being anything to pity within him.
“I’m fine.” He grits out in response, hoping to just be left alone. Unfortunately, the world is not on his side today, as Isagi steps further inside, further into his personal space.
“No, you’re not.” The latter states, firmly. “You’re clearly not fine. What’s wrong?”
Much to Rin’s annoyance, the two had actually started to become friends over the U20 worldcup. It was…weird, having someone willingly approach him because they genuinely appreciated his company, though he got used to it once he stopped thinking too hard about the implications of letting Isagi into his mindspace and letting him live there rent free.
Hence, he begrudgingly allows himself to open up.
“I…beat Sae.” Rin responds, as if expecting the ravenette to understand just from that. Upon noticing Isagi’s confused expression, he goes on, glancing at the floor in shame.
“I don’t have a reason to play anymore. That was my goal. To beat him.” He finally looks up at the boy, who seems to realise the situation now. They both know what happens when you get content.
After a brief silence, Isagi speaks.
“You still haven’t beaten me. Are you ready to give up on football so easily?” Ah, right. He forgot he was talking to a grade A bastard. But he was right. Rin hadn’t beaten him yet. Sure, the last goal was his, but it was all due to this shithead’s doing. He could feel that familiar feeling of competitiveness rise up, and it comes with a sense of relief. He could play without Sae. He could play without Sae.
“Yeah. I haven’t. Don’t get comfortable, Isagi.” The mentioned grins widely in recognition of the Rin he knew so well.
“There you are. I thought I nearly lost you.”
“Don’t even dream about escaping me.” And thus, his fire is relit, and his new opponent is secured. He can go back to burning towns, and scaring civilians, and giving up his life to beat heroes. Sure, he’s going to have this problem again once he beats Isagi, but that’s for later.
What’s the use of looking so far into the dark, unknown future anyway?