Archive of Our Own

1.

The sound of the locker door slamming shut left a harsh ringing that painfully echoed in Raichi's ears.

"God dammit," he spat, cursing out Igaguri in his mind.

It was that fucking monk's fault for being such a shitty teammate to practice duos with; they both couldn't do anything against whatever the fuck had gotten Isagi and Bachira so fired up nowadays.

During their practice, Bachira cheerily suggested a bet where the loser would have to clean up the mess on the field. Before Raichi could utter out a complaint, Igaguri, who was idiotic enough to rise up to any kind of challenge, had immediately agreed to the bet.

He'd counted on Igaguri to be a dumbass on the field, but he should've fucking expected his dumbassery to motivate him to get off the field as well. When Isagi and Bachira shared a high five, celebrating their win, Igaguri tossed out a 'bye!' and hurried off in his typical manner of escaping any kind of work, leaving Raichi behind to fulfil the bet.

It seemed like everyone wanted to piss him off today, because when Raichi made an attempt to chase after Igaguri, Bachira swooped in to stop him with a wink, reminding him of their bet and their loss.

So forgive him if he was more pissed off than usual. He spent too much time on cleaning the field, and worse, he was practically bathing in sweat by the time he finished. Even worse was the fact that apparently the showers had decided to go freezing cold on this particular night, so he was both shivering from the chill and seething from his temper.

And just when things couldn't go any worse, he opened his shaving kit to find out he didn't seal the container of his shaving gel tight enough, so all of his tools were fucking covered in disgusting, slimy gel.

"Fuck!" Raichi had yelled with all the vehemence he could muster, but he was just extremely tired of everything, and extremely frustrated about everything.

Before he could slam his fist against the bathroom sink, a sharp voice suddenly cut through the violent storm raging in his mind.

"Do you mind?"

Raichi whipped his head around to sneer at the person who so rudely spoke, before his eyes landed on Chigiri who sent him a look of displeasure as he fiddled with the settings on his hair dryer.

Fucking hell. While he was taking out his fury on every single door, faucet, wall he could see, the team's resident princess was watching him all along, probably getting more and more annoyed (or amused) by the minute.

"Why, is a spoiled princess like you too fucking fragile to handle a bit of background noise?" Raichi sneered.

Chigiri didn't reply. Or he chose to reply by blasting the hair dryer he was holding on the highest setting, the blaring whirr obnoxious enough to piss off Raichi even more.

"Guh—you fucking stop that—!" Whiiiiirrrrr.

"—Your shitty hair dryer's gonna make my ears bleed—!" Whiiiiirrrrr.

"—For fuck's sake!" yelled Raichi. He tried to snarl out something, just anything, with venom, but the way that Chigiri's hair gently swayed even under the powerful ministrations of his hair dryer, his red hair twinkling underneath the lights, made him almost falter. Almost.

Raichi had to think of another insult, fast. "Fuck you!"

That was not what he was hoping for, but it was fast.

Grumbling under his breath, he glanced back at his space, the sludge on the sink and inside his shaving kit reminding him of his problems. "Shit, I'll just fucking give up on this stupid shaving gel," he muttered, feeling defeated.

Both the click of the hair dryer and the sound of Chigiri clearing his throat caught his attention.

"Is shaving gel all you need?" Chigiri asked.

Okay, Raichi was a bit confused. "Well, yeah," he replied back to him, "it kinda spilled and it basically made a mess." He gestured at his current sticky situation.

Chigiri's eyes didn't even follow his movements. "Yeah, I can see that without you showing me."

Raichi felt a vein throb in his neck. "The fuck?!—"

Chigiri held out a bottle of shaving gel in his hand. "You can use mine."

Oh.

Raichi's eyebrows raising in surprise was more apparent than he would've liked, because Chigiri simply rolled his eyes at him while still offering his shaving gel.

Raichi said, "Okay," and waited for Chigiri to come closer. But they just ended up staring at each other in silence.

He gritted his teeth. So this princess really couldn't be bothered to move his feet. Alright then.

Raichi stomped over to him, putting more force in his grip as he tried snatching the bottle out of Chigiri's hand, only to have Chigiri's other wrist wrapping around Raichi's fingers.

"Careful!" Chigiri looked up at him. "Or you'll make a mess again," his eyes crinkled with mirth, the teasing more evident in his tone compared to the snarky tone he had earlier.

Even if Raichi made it a habit to cuss out nearly everyone he knows, this spoiled brat of a princess being no exception, for some reason he felt his heartbeat pick up when he felt how smooth Chigiri's fingers were. He definitely did take serious care of himself, hell, even his fucking nails looked like they were manicured too.

He immediately realized how dry and roughened and not-delicate his fingers were in contrast. He really couldn't give a shit about the calluses on his hands, but now he strangely felt aware of them.

Something like embarrassment crept up his spine. He felt like he was experiencing an intense rollercoaster ride, swinging up and down from one emotion to another. An experience so different to the turbulence of hostility and vitriol he was used to.

Still, Raichi tried out the same ride he was used to. "You don't have to tell me that! Don't be such a little shit!" He snatched the bottle away from Chigiri's hands.

If Chigiri noticed he put a considerably less amount of force this time, he didn't comment on it, instead resuming working through the tangles in his hair. Noticing that Chigiri didn't offer any response, Raichi focused on shaving his sideburns.

The silence that filled through the air wasn't exactly unbearable… but it wasn't something Raichi thought he'd have to share with a teammate, much less someone like Chigiri.

When Raichi sneered at him, Chigiri looked at him either unbothered or annoyed. When Raichi threw out a few curses, Chigiri only gave a succinct response, but it was filled with sass.

Needless to say, they weren't on the best of terms, especially when Raichi knew he kind of still managed to form a bond with Gagamaru, or Imamura, or even useless Igaguri. It didn't help that Raichi was blessed (or cursed, who really knew) with a sailor's mouth, so he was predisposed to showing aggressiveness anytime, in anywhere, to anyone.

But fuck. Raichi had to admit (to himself only) that he really didn't know how to act around Chigiri. He was initially quiet and withdrawn, never eating with the others at lunch, and barely standing out even during practices. He knew only about how endlessly long he took to attend meetings, never changing his efforts even when he was scolded for being late.

When Chigiri started blazing past everyone else on the field, that caught Raichi's attention. He felt flabbergasted as he saw him race past defenders and teammates alike, even passing to himself because only he could catch up to the ball, all while witnessing for himself the spark of joy that shone through Chigiri's eyes. He hadn't known his eyes were that of a fiery red.

The thorns couldn't hide such a beautiful, blooming rose. That day, Chigiri had undoubtedly proved that he was still a genius.

After looking at his sideburns, satisfied with his own work, Raichi adjusted his position to see his face better in the mirror, only to be caught off-guard by how… soft? …his eyes…looked?

The fuck!

Raichi snapped back to reality, donning his trademark scowl. He then quickly packed up his things, ready to leave. He really didn't want to endure any kind of embarrassment for much longer.

He stopped just a few steps away from the entrance, stealing a glance at Chigiri, who was now applying what seemed to be hair oil on the ends of his hair.

Should he?

Raichi chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Fuck it.

Raichi pointedly looked away from anything that even remotely looked red or pink. "Oi. You better not stay up too long, you spoiled princess. We all need our sleep."

A few seconds had passed, but to Raichi, it felt like minutes stretching into hours. Suddenly feeling a bit uneasy under the oppressive silence, he decided to steal another glance at Chigiri.

Raichi's eyes widened. Shit!

He had to make sure his mouth wasn't hanging open as he tried comprehending the sight before him. Chigiri was looking at him, with red eyes that radiated a mellow and warm hue instead of a red that glowed all passionate and fiery. His soft lips, which were concealing a burning fire within, gently curled into a smile, not a smile that was as sunny as a child's, but a smile that was as breathtaking as a fair woman who was the muse of an artist.

He was so spellbound that he nearly missed Chigiri saying, "Thanks, Raichi. I won't be long."

Raichi didn't know how he managed to leave the place. He probably managed a scoff, or a cough, or a weak attempt of going back to his usual hot-tempered self.

Now the rollercoaster ride was taking him through a heart-stopping dip that trailed into a vertical loop, to a heart-pounding lift hill that seemed like it was going forever until his poor heart couldn't take anymore. All he could feel was the warmth rushing into his ears, staining his cheeks as the sight from earlier still stayed in his memory.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

Fuck! Was Chigiri just waiting for Raichi to look back at him? Since when did Chigiri ever show a smile like that? To Raichi, and not someone that was more deserving?

Though he was already buried underneath his futon, Raichi wasn't feeling exhausted at all. Instead, he just cursed in his mind as he tried to calm the loud hammering of his heart, to cool the almost-feverish sensation of his skin. His efforts proved futile as he couldn't fight through his feelings, with fists bleeding from affection and not violence, struggling to utter out denials to himself.

There's absolutely no way. No fucking way I like the princess.

2.

To the others, Nagi was just lazily tapping at his phone, sprawled out on his sheets.

But only Nagi knew of the swirl of unfamiliar emotions inside him.

He'd put on a video of football plays that piqued his curiosity, but he felt like he was just barely understanding what he was seeing on the screen. Larger-than-life professional players started to look like ordinary blurs of figures, and the green grass gradually looked duller, losing its vibrant hue. Even though the 3v3 match had long ended, Nagi couldn't do anything as his mind wandered back to what had happened just hours ago.

I still don't have a name to the feelings inside me… And Reo…

Nagi let out a soft breath, barely registering the chilling damp on his pillowcase from his wet hair. He had to stop thinking about it. He didn't want to.

As he shifted his focus to his phone once again, Nagi still felt a bit distracted, even when Barou scolded him to dry his hair and pick up after his mess, and after Isagi had urged them to go out for dinner. But Nagi had already set one foot out the door to becoming the world's best; he couldn't give up now.

So Nagi continued to watch and analyse various types of plays, until his teammate spoke up beside him, breaking the thrum of silence.

'Ah, that's right. Isagi went out with only Barou,' Nagi thought. 'So that means I'm with…'

"What have you been watching this whole time?" Chigiri, their new teammate, asked him.

"A world football super-plays compilation. I wanna study their traps," Nagi replied idly. He showed his phone more clearly to Chigiri, who was peering at his phone. "This guy is crazy good. I wanna play like him."

Chigiri's curious expression changed to one of disbelief. "Dude, that's… Noel Noa."

"Who's he?"

"The current world's best striker…" Chigiri trailed off into silence, as Nagi became more interested in the football star he was apparently watching this whole time.

"Oh yeah? Makes sense…" Nagi turned his attention back to the video. "This guy is seriously awesome."

Nagi was ready to type his name into the search bar, until he heard Chigiri softly laugh beside him, asking him if he was serious. Huh. He hadn't known the intense Red Panther he'd faced off hours ago to have such a melodic laugh.

Chigiri smiled down at him. "It's not fair you're as good as you are."

Nagi managed a nod, thanking him. He felt a bit sheepish at receiving a sincere compliment from Chigiri, but he'd guessed it was because they didn't know each other all that well yet.

But there was something that Nagi wanted to know about Chigiri; from the moment they first met as opponents in the First Selection, as he witnessed Chigiri blaze down the field for the first time, to Chigiri's off-handed reply to Isagi earlier.

"By the way, Chigiri…do you have some kind of leg injury? You do PT for it." Nagi asked as Chigiri sat beside him on his bed.

"Oh, kinda…" Rolling up his pants, Chigiri propped up his right knee for Nagi to see. "It's my trusty partner, and it's like a ticking time-bomb," he smiled as he gently patted his knee, "this right leg of mine."

In that moment, Nagi could only look on in both amazement and something like… concern? For Chigiri to show him his scar so openly… and with a quiet smile too, like he'd long accepted it.

There were many things Nagi could ask about, but he only asked if it still hurt. He'd briefly learned about sports injuries, from a distant memory of a lecture from Reo when he'd 'forgotten' to do his stretches, but the fact that Chigiri had showed fiery fervour earlier on the pitch while dealing with the solemn reality of his injury this whole time…

Nagi knew he could never understand what it felt like now, or back then when Chigiri first experienced such a sorrow. The two of them were hailed as geniuses, Nagi being an exceptional case—but Nagi had just begun to venture out into the world of dreams, while Chigiri had already been face-to-face with the disappearance of his.

"It's fine now." Nagi worried if his question was too much, but Chigiri replied to him easily.

"Though it'll be bad if I bust it again… I have no regrets." Chigiri tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, cradling his right knee. "I'm running one day at a time with that resolve."

To be able to voice out your dreams for yourself… Nagi was among the realm of geniuses, yet he never felt like he truly belonged, not when he could barely pinpoint the feelings that stirred in his heart after a goal, after a victory.

One day, will Nagi be able to do that too, with the same resolve that Chigiri had?

"Whoa… That's really cool," Nagi breathed out.

Chigiri's eyes now landed back on him. "Before I can be the world's best, there are a whole lot of guys I need to beat first," he finished firmly.

After rolling down his right pant leg and fixing any wrinkles, Chigiri flopped down beside him, snatching Nagi's phone from his hands. "There are lots of other guys you can watch to learn about traps, like Bergkamp or Ono Shinji."

Nagi turned to him, more curious than he was previously. "Really? Teach me!"

They were now watching another compilation of traps, this one showing how Dennis Bergkamp mastered the art of a first touch. Chigiri would pause the video every now and then, explaining why he'd made such a play and how that play came about. When Nagi looked confused, Chigiri would quickly whip out a different video, showing him the basics before delving into more complicated moves. And whenever Nagi started to zone out into boredom, Chigiri would gently shake his shoulder, nudging him to stay focused.

"Nagi, you're an extraordinary prodigy, but you need to learn about your innate talent or else it'll go to waste," Chigiri lightly chided him.

Nag let out a whine, burying his face into the pillow he was holding. "'m trying my beeest. It's just that this is all new to me."

Chigiri shook his head. "Come on, I'll show you another video."

Whatever Nagi said, it came out muffled into the pillow.

"Come onnn. Look, it's actually quite interesting."

"Hrrrnnnmmmff."

Chigiri only sighed after seeing Nagi's laziness in action. Still, Nagi had made no motion to leave the warm embrace of his pillow.

"Nagi." Chigiri's voice sounded closer to his ear, and Nagi almost jumped in surprise.

"Are the videos boring, or am I just a boring teacher?"

Nagi quickly raised his head at the sound of Chigiri's voice. He turned to see Chigiri looking at him, lips forming into a pout.

"Eh, no, that's not it, princess." Nagi tried to look at him, but he couldn't help but notice how soft Chigiri's lips looked. "Continue playing the video."

Chigiri eventually stopped sulking, face relaxing as he started another explanation, making sure he was discussing at a pace Nagi could understand. And for a while Nagi was able to concentrate and understand the concepts without much difficulty.

Though, as Chigiri continued discussing different plays, it was getting harder and harder for Nagi to concentrate. It wasn't that Chigiri was a bad teacher—he was relatively easy to understand—it was more so the fault of Chigiri's student; namely, that Nagi had realized how much he'd liked to see Chigiri's smile and hear his laugh.

It was obvious to almost, if not, all of the players in this place that Chigiri was very beautiful. If your eyes didn't happen to land on his lustrous and silky red hair, they would linger on the roundness of his ruby eyes, or on his long eyelashes. If Nagi had to strain his mind to think of a good comparison (and he would never exert this kind of effort in his literature classes), he would compare gazing upon Chigiri to staring at a blossoming flower in the middle of a war-torn field, a touch of beauty in spite of the chaos that surrounds it.

But it wasn't right to compare Chigiri to an object. He was more than that. Many players had come to learn their lesson after underestimating Chigiri just because of his looks; if Chigiri had the type of beauty that caught your eye off the field, then he was absolutely mesmerising on the field, completely demanding your full attention. After all, Nagi only stared helplessly as Chigiri's ego continued burning brightly during the 3v3 match, an ego that could not be contained nor tamed by anyone.

Nagi already admired Chigiri because he found him cool when his ego was out ablaze for everyone to see, but he had to admit to himself that he found Chigiri slightly endearing when his ego wasn't. When Chigiri smiled softly at him, without any envy in his gaze as he complimented him, Nagi's heart did weird flips inside his chest.

Maybe Nagi was just restless after a taxing match. But Nagi was also curious, eager to know more about his teammate, and of the feelings that started to take root.

Just like in the shooting games he'd often play in his free time, Nagi had to take up arms for his mission.

"Hey, Chigiri?" Nagi gently nudged him.

"Yeah?" Chigiri paused the video, looking up at Nagi through his eyelashes. Nagi tried not to stare.

"I think it's better if you teach me these things with a real ball."

"Oh! That'd be much better!" Chigiri placed Nagi's phone on the bed, then sat up, searching for any ball in sight.

He turned to look at Nagi, a slight frown on his face. "I think Barou hid it somewhere…"

"Then why don't we use this instead?" Nagi pointed to his phone. "Trapping anything might improve my skills…"

"Pfft! Why would you trap anything other than a ball during a match!" Chigiri was quick to cover his mouth as he laughed at Nagi, who quietly wished he didn't hide his smile.

"I think it'll help. See, I did it!"

Nagi had one leg up in the air, with his smartphone balanced atop his foot. His pose must have been so bizarre that it managed to send Chigiri into a fit of poorly concealed laughter.

"Hey! You have to do that again, I didn't see!"

"Ehh… this is going to be a pain—"

"—No backing out now!" Chigiri interjected cheerily. "You suggested it, remember?"

He held out a tissue box in his hand, beaming up at Nagi. "Let's try it again!"

Nagi felt a heat creep up behind his neck. When Chigiri looked at him like that, it was hard to say no to him.

The two found themselves busy for the next half-hour, with Chigiri throwing an assortment of items for Nagi to trap. And for every successful trap that he made, he was rewarded with more and more of Chigiri's mirthful smiles.

It didn't even matter to Nagi in the slightest that Barou barged in with an enraged shout, as he and Isagi looked at the mess they'd made—he was already captivated by the sweet tones of Chigiri's laughter.

I want to know more about the emotions inside me; the emotions that I feel when I see his smile.

3.

Zantetsu fidgeted in his seat, not knowing what to do.

He never had to deal with anything like this in his life at all. He didn't really have friends before coming to Blue Lock.

Well, if Chigiri considered him his friend.

After Zantetsu was chosen to join his team back in the Second Selection, he'd expected Chigiri to have some sort of grunge (grudge?) against him, especially since they considered each other as rivals in their battles of speed. But to his surprise, they'd formed a friendship relatively quickly, as Chigiri turned out to be an easygoing person.

They still traded teasing remarks and nicknames whenever they met on the field, but each passing insult no longer carried any malice, unlike their first time playing against each other back then. If he had to be honest, Zantetsu had gained respect for Chigiri's speed, and judging from how the two formed a chemical reaction without any difficulty, Chigiri had acknowledged his, too.

But he understood that Chigiri's talent came at a price—he'd already witnessed it for himself during their final 4v4 match. It was incredibly troubling for Zantetsu to see Chigiri's expression change to that of panic as he collapsed on the field. Chigiri had assured him and Nagi when they asked about his knee back then, even showing a smile at them while doing so; but he still couldn't help but feel an oddly sad feeling in his chest whenever he passed by the meditation rooms, the sight of Chigiri hunched over as he massaged his knee, making him pause every time.

And that feeling came back full force, gnawing at somewhere deep in his chest when Chigiri got subbed out in the middle of the match.

He felt even worse when he could hear Chigiri's stifled cries.

So Zantetsu was grappling with two, very difficult choices. Should he leave him be, let him cry in silence? Or should he try reaching over, at risk of upsetting him?

He knew that he had to pay attention to the match, in the case that he would be picked to play for the team. But even though he was in front of the expansive stretch of the grassy field, he could barely put all his focus into watching with the persisting unease in his chest.

From beside him, Chigiri choked out on a muffled sob, breathing out sharply for air. He was hiding his tears with his hair, so Zantetsu watched as he tried blindly grabbing his own water bottle while keeping his head lowered, unfortunately knocking his bottle over in the process.

In that brief moment, Zantetsu knew what he had to do.

Zantetsu was quick to place his own (untouched) water bottle in Chigiri's shaky hands, and before Chigiri could raise his head in surprise, possibly showing any nosy on-lookers the tear stains on his cheeks, Zantetsu flung out a towel over Chigiri's hair, the towel framing his face and obscuring it from sight.

When Chigiri stared at him, his face bare of any emotion save for the glistening trail of tears on his cheeks, Zantetsu fumbled for any words to say to him.

"You can drink out of mine, it's okay," Zantetsu stammered out, but Chigiri just continued looking at him.

Zantetsu felt bashful underneath his gaze, and he realized he forgot to mention something. Oh. Right.

"I didn't drink out of it, I swear!" Chigiri still stared at him.

Crap. What else could he say?

Zantetsu looked down at his knees, surprised at how sweaty his palms felt all of a sudden. He tried again, nudging his glasses in an attempt to regain his composure.

"You need to rest so you can get back on the pitch," he spoke softly, and as sincerely as he could. "Don't let his words get to your head."

Zantetsu continued looking down, out of fear that once he looked he'll see Chigiri scowling at him. But silence only followed, and Zantetsu was feeling restless from waiting.

He was confused at the disappointment he felt when he found out that Chigiri stopped staring at him, instead back to his previous position with his head down. And he felt even more confused at the relief that filled his heart when he noticed that the water bottle he'd handed out earlier was half-empty.

Still, Zantetsu wasn't brave enough to break the silence between them again. All he could do was continue observing his fellow players' and their opponents' moves, occasionally glancing at his teammate out of the peripherals of his eyes.

If he wasn't also observing how much time was left in the second half, he would have believed he had waited for hours until Chigiri's breathing started to even out.

"…I agree with what Ego said."

Zantetsu turned his head to face Chigiri, but Chigiri wasn't looking at him.

"Blunt as he may be, he had a point. And I was just in denial of the reality I had to face," he continued, his voice sounding pensive.

"My frustration shows me where I am now… when I could still be playing on the pitch," Chigiri only spared the field a brief glance before looking away. "I know what I have to do now."

Chigiri sat up in his chair, now wearing a determined look on his face. Zantetsu was fully watching him, in awe.

"To become the world's best, I have to accept the consequences of the decisions I'd made long ago. And," he paused, his eyes fluttering shut before they opened with a newfound spark. "I'll take action for the dreams that I carry within me."

Zantetsu took in his words. "You don't… regret anything?"

Time seemed to stretch on slowly before Chigiri gave a reply. "If I have time for regrets, then I have time to make up for those too," he spoke softly, almost delicately, as if the words could get lost in the air.

Chigiri turned his head, now looking at Zantetsu. "Right, Zantetsu?"

Zantetsu let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Chigiri was looking at him so seriously he felt like shying away until he noticed the meaningful emotions brimming in his magenta eyes, his vulnerabilities exposed for Zantetsu to see.

Zantetsu opened his mouth to utter out a weak reply, but he couldn't be sure if he managed to say anything at all. He knew he couldn't hear his own words over the thundering pounding of his heart—in his chest, in his ears, in his throat.

They sat together, watching the game in silence, but Zantetsu understood that time had already frozen since then. Red eyes that burned so fiercely a moment ago on the field; red eyes that carried so much emotion unrecognisable to many, but dizzying to those who understood the gravity of an imposing dream, and the weight of the world's expectations; red eyes that continued to carry a flame so strong it couldn't be extinguished—red eyes that had Zantetsu captivated, from his ego down to his soul.

There were many things in this world he could not understand. But…

Zantetsu huffed a quiet breath, staring at the misty cloud that formed as it slowly faded into the chilling air, gone before it could soothe the overwhelming warmth in his chest.

4.

To say that Otoya was relieved would be a gross understatement.

After having to endure literal football jail for months (emphasis on the literal), being allowed a two-week break following their recent victory against the U-20 Japan team was the best news Otoya had ever received in his entire life.

Well, he'd considered it as the best news he'd ever received, unless fate was kind to him and decided to bless him with a cute girl by his side today…

Thwack!

Otoya yelped as he felt someone, obviously Karasu, throw something, obviously Otoya's beanie, at his bare head. At this point, he could identify which object was thrown at him without having to look or even to take a peek.

"Could ya please be on yer best behaviour when yer hanging around with us?" Karasu was massaging at his furrowed eyebrows when Otoya turned to face him.

"Karasu-chan, you have to stop or you'll give me brain damage," Otoya practically flung an arm around Karasu as his friend sat beside him on the lounge, where he was spectating the bowling rematch.

Karasu shot him a look. "Ya already had brain damage before we first met, ya moron," he flicked Otoya on his forehead.

"Ouch!" Otoya covered his forehead defensively, then mimed a puppy pathetically wailing from a wound, if the puppy was also just as insufferable as him. "Can you blame a guy who's been deprived of connection and intimacy?"

Karasu was considering putting him into a choke-hold. He chose to reply instead, against his sane mind telling him it was for the better. "It's less that and more that ya just can't keep it in yer pants."

Otoya just showed him an easy grin. "You're just pretending you aren't the same as me."

"Am not—"

"I can introduce you to a pretty girl if you'd like—Guh—" Otoya choked on a cough.

"Ya won't because I'm not lettin' ya go."

Even as Otoya flailed his arms around, Karasu just strengthened his hold around Otoya's neck. Unfortunately, the taunting look in his green eyes didn't fade away, instead his eyes only sparkled when a red-haired figure came into their view.

The familiar red came even closer, and Otoya's heart did a little flip. Not into guys, he told himself.

"See? There's a pretty girl for you, Karasu," Otoya managed to say, before wincing. "Can't you help me out here, princess?"

Chigiri just crossed his arms, sharing a knowing look with Karasu. "I told you I'm not a girl, Otoya," he said, but lightly swatted at Karasu's arms anyway.

Karasu relented because he supposed he'd put his muscles through more than enough during his time in Blue Lock. Otoya let out a happy sigh as he flopped back on the lounge, motioning for Chigiri to sit beside him.

"Nice spare earlier, redhead," Karasu remarked as Chigiri made himself comfortable, "ya basically saved us."

"I thought Nagi wasn't gonna get that strike, but I guess he's still a genius in other aspects too," Otoya chimed in.

Chigiri laughed. "No kidding! I'm just happy to watch the show," he pointed to where their teammates stood, crowding around an angry Barou. "I made a bet with Bachira on how many times Barou has to sanitise his ball today."

"That's what ya guys decided to bet on?" Karasu asked, in disbelief.

Chigiri looked back at him smug. "Oh trust me, I'm familiar with Barou's antics by now."

"Tell you what, if Bachira ends up winning the bet, then help me liven things up for Karasu." Otoya proposed, ignoring the glower Karasu directed at him.

"And if I win the bet?" Chigiri asked.

"Then Karasu'll treat you to wherever you want to go."

"Hey!"

"Deal." They shook hands, with Karasu's protests falling on deaf ears.

Fate was also not kind to Karasu, because Chigiri ended up winning the bet.

"I still have to save my allowance for when I get home later," Karasu sighed like he had just experienced the longest day of his life.

Chigiri smiled at his weary expression. "The fearsome assassin, scared of spending a little money? Relax," he flashed Karasu a thumbs up. "I just wanted to take a look into the bookstores around here."

Otoya blinked. "I was expecting something more fun."

"We're not staying there to read—I just want to browse the titles there," Chigiri clarified.

Karasu grinned at Otoya. "Ya only bother to open a book if yer girl says she's into it."

Otoya moped, but only for a bit before slinging an arm around Karasu, the other around Chigiri. "Well then princess, let us escort you there."

Something about the way Chigiri grinned at him made Otoya feel skittish. This time, though, it wasn't because Otoya liked seeing his smiles (he'd admitted that to himself a long time ago), but because this was the cheeky grin that Chigiri showed if he was up to something.

And Otoya turned out to be right. Within a few seconds, Chigiri was already out the doorway, yelling, "Race you two there!" as Karasu called out for him to slow down. When the two managed to catch up to him, he stuck out his tongue and sped up even more. Otoya knew he should've held onto Chigiri's shoulders tighter.

By the time Karasu and Otoya made their way to the entrance of the bookstore Chigiri had mentioned earlier, they were both trying to even out their breathing. The cause of their suffering popped out of the doorframe, flashing a triumphant grin at them before pulling them in.

"You two took so long!"

Whatever retort Karasu had, and whatever quip Otoya was about to say, was immediately forgotten when they saw Chigiri beaming openly at the vast array of novels before them. In the time they spent together playing, and discussing strategies they could pull off as a trio, Otoya still could not be ready enough whenever Chigiri just smiled like that. Suddenly, his tongue was tied, and his heart gave a flutter, almost like he was the one being played even though he was used to having girls wrapped around his finger.

Karasu recovered shortly to show a smirk. "Guess Blue Lock made ya miss out on all of these."

Chigiri's eyes twinkled with wonder. "It's been so long," he muttered, before facing the other two. "You two can go on ahead, I'm just going to browse through here."

Otoya's lips quirked. "Eager to leave us, princess? Just lead the way and we'll follow."

"I'm actually doing you a favour, Otoya," Chigiri looked mischievously at him. "I thought this might bore you to death."

"Nah, I'm good," was all Otoya could reply before he nearly reacted at the sudden warmth in his palm; Chigiri had taken his hand to lead him to the shelves displaying a selection of romance novels.

"Luckily for you, I know just what you need," Chigiri playfully gestured towards the books, which displayed unabashed titles that were most likely targeted towards desperate, single men.

Otoya mumbled, "Bold of you to assume I'm off my game," but his ears felt hot when he looked down to see their hands still entwined together.

He shouldn't be feeling bashful all of a sudden, not when he and Sendou had literally just chatted up some pretty, starstruck women who wanted their autographs earlier. And he definitely was sure that he was not into guys. But Otoya wanted to know where this unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome, feeling took him; he liked to do the chasing, and Chigiri just happened to be in a league of his own.

Oh well. Otoya won't back down now.

And maybe, maybe he'd do a quick 'Find Out Your Sexuality Test' later, and delete it from his search history right after.

Otoya was focused on enjoying the warmth of their hands together, when Chigiri spotted Karasu inspecting the new arrivals from an aisle over. Just as quickly as he'd grabbed Otoya's hand earlier, he let go of it to walk towards Karasu.

Otoya sighed as he watched Karasu and Chigiri talk between themselves, failing to notice how much softer Karasu's grin looked as he tried to distract himself from focusing on the stuttering pulse of his heart.

Much later, as the three wander through the bustling cityscape of Shibuya, Karasu and Otoya will slow down as they hear Chigiri's footsteps come to a halt. As they turn, they'll notice Chigiri step quietly into a dark alley, in pursuit of something.

When they follow him, Chigiri is crouched down, holding a mewling kitten in his arms, the kitten's striped fur mussed and its golden eyes shining in the darkness.

And when Chigiri gazes up at them, looks through his eyelashes, his lips opening to ask if it's okay for him to stay behind, and to urge the two to go on without him, Karasu will look at him with fondness in his eyes, while Otoya's stare will linger too long on how striking Chigiri's eyes still look in the dark. The two will crouch beside him, and as Otoya's fingers brush against Chigiri's when he pets the kitten's fur, Karasu tries to memorise the faint, flowery scent from Chigiri's hair.

"Just lead the way and we'll follow," Otoya repeats.

"We ain't leaving until ya come with us," Karasu reminds.

The quiet appreciation that will shine on Chigiri's face is far more precious than any other jewel.

5.

This was not how Aiku had expected to meet him, but he'd make it work.

"Didn't expect to be paid a visit by such prestigious royalty," Aiku grinned at their unexpected visitor, "what brings you to our humble abode?"

As Chigiri playfully rolled his eyes at him, Barou shuffled in the corner of his eye.

"Ha! I'm the only royalty around here," Barou grunted, briefly regarding the newcomer in their stratum with interest before returning his attention to Aiku with an impatient scowl. "Now could you get started?"

Ever since Barou had straight up threatened Aiku to assist him with dyeing his hair in celebration of his 100-million-yen salary, he appointed Aiku as his hairdresser (apparently). To be fair, Aiku trusted Sendou like no other but he wouldn't let the overly eager guy touch his hair; Aryu would make him his personal dress-up doll; Niko'd probably struggle to see what he was actually cutting (seriously, how was he so freakishly perceptive with those bangs?); and Lorenzo was just happy with watching them while giving moral support from the sidelines (if his cheers weren't muffled by him happily munching on caramel popcorn).

And since Aiku didn't have any complaints (or the others dashed off before he had the chance to complain), he was now the sole man behind the famed Ubers Barber Shop. And his (only) regular was the most authoritarian guy Aiku had ever met.

Obviously, they didn't actually have a barber shop inside their stratum, but thanks to Aiku's creativity and leadership, the Ubers players were able to coordinate well enough to build a set-up by themselves. The hairdresser vanity set-up was simply composed of several pieces: a spare tabletop they'd found in one of the ominously dim stock rooms, and a mirror that was large enough (Aiku didn't want to know how Sendou had gotten this out of nowhere). When Snuffy had accidentally walked in on the Ubers team shuffling about and yelling around in the locker room, he just threw back his head in laughter and returned with a few comfortable chairs for them to use.

"Barou-chan," Aiku sang in his best attempt at a hairdresser's shrill voice, "don't forget who's holding a pair of scissors and who's not," he finished with a smirk, punctuating every word with a snip of his scissors.

Barou swore, motioning to leave his seat, but Aiku had set a firm hand on his shoulder and draped a hairdressing cape over his chest. "Please make yourself comfortable in your seat, mister," Aiku continued, still in character, "we have a special guest today~."

While Aiku sanitised his workspace, Barou finally sat still with a huff, instead fixing Aiku with a deathly glare through the mirror. Then he turned his gaze to Chigiri, who moved over to stand beside the dresser, entertained by the sight.

"And who said you were welcome here, princess? This salon is reserved for us only," Barou raised an eyebrow.

Chigiri only flashed a toothy grin at him. "Is that so, King? The owner hasn't kicked me out yet, so there must not be any issue here," he replied, as he propped himself up on the vanity.

"Get off of that!" Barou scowled at him, as Aiku muttered wearily how he had to sanitise his space again lest he risk another lecture from his customer. To this, Chigiri rolled his eyes, complaining that he didn't have anywhere else to sit to enjoy the show.

Aiku and Barou both shared a look as the former briefly left to get a chair for Chigiri, who grinned up at him as he sat down.

"Comfortable now, princess?" Aiku asked.

"Hm, I guess this will do," Chigiri sighed, pretending to be dismayed at the delayed customer service. "What kind of barber shop doesn't even have any kind of magazines?"

"Now, now, I only opened for our resident King…"

"You know you should always be ready for any surprise customers."

"Can't be helped, I'm just the poor sole owner around here—"

"Hey! Stop blabbing and get to work already!" Barou's impatient voice boomed through the room.

Aiku let out a long-suffering sigh, before sauntering over to Barou. "All right, all right. You just want a trim, right?"

Barou gruffly nodded, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from his forehead before Aiku started on his work. For his typical tyrannical behaviour prior to his trim, Barou was surprisingly compliant during the whole process, offering his honest opinion whenever Aiku asked every now and then.

Just as expected from how he played on the pitch, Aiku worked efficiently. Though he hadn't expected he'd have to help his teammates like this, he wasn't opposed to giving a haircut. Frankly, this was a great change of scenery for Aiku, who usually spent his days with an unchanging schedule: memorising various tactics that Snuffy had devised in the training room, conjuring their next plays with the others in the lockers and on the field, and rewinding by himself in the monitor room. It was important for all of them to devote their time to the sport, but it was just as of great importance for them to balance work with play as well.

Even though Aiku busied himself with his work, he certainly didn't forget about their visitor, and if Barou was just going to stare at his handiwork through the mirror in silence then he might as well take his chance to talk with Chigiri. Aiku had been curious about him for the longest time, though he figured he finally understood why the Blue Lock players kept on calling for a 'princess' in their team.

"So, redhead," Aiku began as he carefully parted Barou's raven hair into sections, "you wanna fill us in on why you're here?"

"Well, I always visit the Bastard Munchen stratum, so I thought that paying the other teams a visit might be nice in a while too," came Chigiri's reply, though he was still watching Barou closely.

"I wasn't planning on staying long… until I bumped into you two," Chigiri's mouth quirked up in a hint of a smile, "seeing our menacing King so well-behaved is something I definitely don't want to miss after all."

Aiku let out a snort in agreement, and was about to reply when Barou cut him off. "The hell are you saying, you little shit?"

Barou's eyes flared. "If you wanna be a spoiled brat here, then you might as well make yourself useful!"

Chigiri didn't hesitate. "You expect me to work here for free?"

A vein popped in Barou's temples. Aiku had to take action, because he was sure Barou was about to launch himself off the chair.

"I hear you, King," he said mildly, then glanced at Chigiri. "Unfortunately, since we're all just commoners around him, you have to work as my assistant for now."

Chigiri tilted his head to look at him. "And what about my compensation?"

Aiku just grinned wolfishly at him. "We can always privately discuss the terms later, if you're catching my drift."

For a brief moment, Chigiri's eyes widened, if only by a fraction. Then his features shifted into a coy expression. "I'll hold you to that, then."

Then he stood up, settling beside Aiku. "So what do you want your assistant to do for you?" Chigiri playfully batted his eyelashes up at him.

Aiku, being an experienced womaniser, was distracted by the gentle flutter of his lashes only for a few milliseconds, and smoothly replied. "Help me divide his hair into sections, and once you're done, put them in place with these," Aiku held up a set of hair clips.

"You better not make a mess out of my hair," Barou warned as Chigiri placed some of the hair clips by his side.

Chigiri only rolled his eyes at him. "Barou, out of everyone here, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what I'm doing when it comes to hair."

And Chigiri proved himself worthy as an assistant—hell, Aiku thought Chigiri knew more than he did about what they were supposed to be doing. The two seamlessly worked together, both donning looks of concentration as Aiku began to trim the ends of each section while Chigiri swiftly brushed away the leftover strands that landed on Barou's shoulders.

As the two made considerable progress, Aiku broke the silence. "You're pretty good at this, princess. Do you have any siblings by any chance?"

"I have an older sister," Chigiri answered, still focused on their task. "She loves to experiment with hairstyles, and I was her unfortunate victim. One day I stumbled upon her holding a pair of scissors in the bathroom, and she begged me to help with trimming off her split ends. I was kind of terrified of cutting it at first, but she guided me through it."

Aiku hummed, letting Chigiri continue. "And she ended up liking what I did. So ever since then, I would always help trim her hair whenever she didn't feel like visiting the salon. Our mother scolded us at first, but the next day she came home and gifted us with quality tools." Chigiri's expression softened, looking fond as he recounted the memory.

Aiku stared at him, entranced by the warmth glowing in his eyes. For as fierce he was on the field, and oftentimes as spoiled as his nickname made him out to be, Aiku had to admit that seeing Chigiri's sincere, unguarded expressions was more than a pleasant surprise—it felt rewarding, even thrilling when he felt like he wanted to see more of it.

"Must've been nice," Aiku finally replied, now working on the upper portion of Barou's hair. "I bet you miss your sister, huh?"

Chigiri stilled for a moment. Then, he smiled softly. "Yeah, I won't deny that I do," he said, before he looked at Barou cheekily through the mirror. "But I think our scary King misses his baby sisters more."

"Hey! I'm much better at being an older brother than you two could ever be!" Barou retorted, before glowering at them through the mirror. "And of course I miss them," he huffed.

Chigiri and Aiku both cooed at him, as a hint of red tinged Barou's ears. Somehow, the three of them started trading stories of their own sisters, after Aiku sheepishly revealed that he'd often get into trouble with his older sister because his former girlfriends would complain to her. "That's what happens when you go after multiple older women!" Chigiri had remarked as Barou only looked at Aiku menacingly before yelling, "What kind of example are you setting for your younger sister?!"

"My little sisters deserve nothing but the best." Barou finished after spending a good amount of time berating Aiku, outright saying that he needed to step up.

"Such a sweet brother you are, how cute," Chigiri looked down at Barou fondly, the tenderness in his expression catching Barou off-guard.

Barou looked away, now interested in his hands all of a sudden. "Shut up."

Aiku sighed, tired after defending himself from Barou's wrath. "I think I'm almost done here, by the way."

Chigiri nodded at him, leaving Aiku's side to take a broom and a dustpan to start cleaning after them, asking Aiku to let him know if he was done so he could take a look too.

After what felt like forever, Aiku finally laid his tools to rest on the dresser, his eyes roaming over Barou's newly-trimmed hair for any strands out of place. When he didn't spot anything amiss, he called out to Chigiri, who came over (although Aiku noted he was a bit too excited to drop the broom down).

"Hmmm," Chigiri appraised Barou's appearance meticulously, then suddenly drew closer to his face, shy of just a few centimetres. Aiku had to hold himself back from letting out a wolf whistle at seeing the imperceptible surprise dawn on Barou's usual hardened features.

Barou inhaled sharply as Chigiri placed a firm hand behind Barou's head. "Don't move," he scolded. This close, Barou could count the individual lashes that fluttered every time he blinked, could pick out each shade of red that glimmered in his irises, could wonder about how soft his lips must feel on his own, on his skin.

Barou's eyes flitted away, hoping to focus on something else while trying to extract the sight from his memories. This was why he'd often act disgruntled whenever the princess came near him, because he'd get stupid wandering thoughts like these. Recently, they've only gotten worse.

He felt Chigiri's hand relax from behind his head. Then, his fingers combed through his dark strands, silky after the hair treatment, before letting them fall gently over Barou's shoulders. In a blink of an eye, he was no longer too close to Barou, now standing beside Aiku while wearing a satisfied expression.

"I think our King looks as dashing as ever." Chigiri complimented.

Barou nearly raged in his mind. What did he even mean by that?

Before Barou could open his mouth, Aiku replied, probably thinking Chigiri complimented him on his work. "You think so? Well, you're good to go, Barou-chaaan," he drawled as he removed the cape from his shoulders.

As soon as Barou left his seat, his eyes raked over the floor, desperate to compose himself after his brief flustered spell earlier. Noting some leftover hairs on the floor, he cursed at Chigiri for putting in such a half-assed effort at cleaning, and left the room to find a mop and a bigger waste bin.

Now that they were the only ones left in the room, Aiku smirked back at Chigiri, resuming their talk from earlier. "Are you ready to talk business with me?"

Chigiri only cocked his head, looking at him coyly. "I'm afraid your offer won't meet my standards."

Aiku's grin widened. He found that he liked playing this kind of game best with Chigiri. "Yeah?"

"You think I can't keep up with your standards, little Red?" Aiku continued, as he leaned in, watching Chigiri closely.

There was not a single change in Chigiri's expression. "Well, captain," he began, as he let his fingers trail over Aiku's biceps, every touch leaving a searing trace behind as Aiku's eyes glinted with a hint of a challenge.

The two shared a look, the tension rising in the air. Then it suddenly dissipated; Chigiri let his arm drop to his side before briskly walking over to the door.

"If you're willing to, you can always change my mind," Chigiri looked over his shoulder, and a coquettish look painted his face. "In private."

Chigiri left before Aiku could reply, the full-back too stunned into silence. It was after Barou entered the room, shouting at Aiku to move his feet before Aiku let out a chuckle.

"That panther sure has claws," he breathed out, and he finally recognized the look in Barou's eyes when their gazes met.

+ 1.

In hindsight, Isagi should've expected this to happen sooner.

Had Isagi allowed himself a brief moment of calm from the arising pressure he'd placed on himself to achieve his goals to become the world's best, he could've taken action before his rivalry with Kaiser started to seep into his personal matters.

Actually, it wasn't even his personal matters alone that Kaiser, being the cunning bastard that he is, wanted to meddle with. Isagi, after having witnessed a smirking Kaiser—his nemesis—pull Chigiri—his friend since Blue Lock started—into an obscured corridor, belatedly realised his mistake.

Isagi knew about the reputation he'd gained whenever he showed up on the field, but he would say he was relatively reserved; he was friendly, sure, but he wasn't naturally charismatic. He'd much rather spend time with his closest friends instead of daring to talk to a rival off the field, especially if said rival was inclined to toss out death threats with a maniacal look on his face.

Though Rin and Barou were surprisingly easier to talk to, it was Kaiser that gave Isagi a headache and a migraine combined into one aggravating pain.

And Isagi hated to pick fights, but if goddamn Kaiser was trying to provoke a reaction out of him by stooping so low as to interfere with his relationships with other people; by cornering and possibly doing who knows what to a very dear friend of his, then Isagi would not hesitate to throw the first punch.

Here was the thing about Chigiri that Isagi liked: he shared the same raw ambition that Isagi held for football, and Isagi always learned a lot from him, even inspiring Isagi to succeed his plays on the field. Here was another that Isagi liked: despite Chigiri's intensity, he was caring and compassionate towards his friends. Chigiri showed it in his unique ways: patting Isagi on the head after a good practice session, ruffling Bachira's hair whenever Bachira nuzzled up to him, passing Kunigami a water bottle after his workout, and even joining Nagi in his antics by lazing on the bed with him. Isagi also didn't fail to notice how Chigiri always looked after Reo when he was left alone even when Chigiri complained to Isagi in private, or how he hid his worries behind a composed, unaffected face. It made sense why Chigiri described himself as an intense person; after all, it was also revealed in the way he cared more than what people expected: more fiery than the initial ice, yet soothing like a gentle warmth. Isagi knew long ago that there was a reason why it felt reassuring to have Chigiri as a teammate, as a friend.

Now, here was the thing about Chigiri that Isagi… liked less. As an effect of his outward aloofness—or maybe he was just used to people admiring him for his talent and his looks—he didn't seem to pay much thought to the increasing attention he was getting. Isagi didn't have enough fingers to count the number of times he had to intervene: he'd glare at the back of Imamura's head when their Casanova stared too long in the communal bath, or he'd rush to sit beside Chigiri (with Bachira zooming to their spot shortly) because someone might try hitting on his friend again during lunch.

Being cursed with the ability to observe closely left Isagi badly aware of the number of people who felt something for Chigiri. (And he definitely did not want to unpack the spike of jealousy he'd get after the thought appeared in his head.)

But even if Chigiri might know about his effect on people, Isagi strongly abhorred the thought of Kaiser even standing a little too close to him.

So Isagi did what a well-meaning friend would do in this situation: follow Kaiser on his tracks and try to make a swift rescue.

Except he couldn't exactly make a swift rescue without getting closer, for if Isagi tried to approach Kaiser, Ness might suddenly appear out of nowhere and cause serious bodily harm to him, fully knowing it would affect his playtime and consequently give Kaiser an advantage in their next matches.

Isagi did the next best thing to do in this situation: stay in the shadows and watch for an opening. Even if it meant having to listen through Kaiser's flirting, and imagining how Chigiri would react.

"Here you are, Red," Isagi heard Kaiser purr, "right here in my arms."

Isagi held back a gag. He hoped Chigiri could make a speedy getaway.

Isagi continued to listen.

"Kaiser," there's a faint hint of confusion in Chigiri's voice, "why did you bring me out here?"

"You don't feel safe with me?" Isagi tried not to scoff at the overconfidence seeping through Kaiser's voice.

"No, you said you were going to take me to Isagi." Never mind that Isagi brightened up at the mention of his name.

Unfortunately Kaiser liked to ruin good things for Isagi. "Don't think about that damn Yoichi when I'm right here."

"What could Yoichi have that I don't?" Kaiser continued, voice still disgustingly sweet. Isagi had never wished so badly to have another first name in his life.

"Well, I happen to be friends with him, and I'd like to visit him," Chigiri replied matter-of-factly.

Isagi hoped there weren't any cameras nearby to capture the possible smug look he had on his face. Take that, Kaiser.

There was a sudden gasp, presumably from Chigiri, but why would he be gasping – until Kaiser spoke again.

"I'd hoped to be something more with you, Hyoma," Kaiser's voice was dangerously more hushed. Almost like he was drawing closer… like Kaiser had gripped Chigiri's chin, just like how he did to Isagi back then.

What the hell!

"Kaiser," Chigiri sounded peeved. "Let go of me."

The situation was getting worse, but Isagi had faith. He knew Chigiri to stand proud, not one to be easily intimidated. Kaiser was no match for him. Actually, Isagi probably didn't even need to be here, but he definitely did not want to leave Chigiri alone with Kaiser.

"You know, Hyoma, ever since our match I've been dying to know more," Kaiser breathed out, and Isagi could basically imagine his leering at his precious friend. "Who you are, what you like."

"You were so gorgeous when I first saw you on that field. But I prefer seeing you like this," Kaiser's voice dipped to a husky tone, "wrapped around me."

"Well, Blue Rose, I prefer not to be like this at all." Isagi listened as Chigiri just scoffed at him. "There are better ways to get my attention."

Kaiser barked out a sharp laugh, sending unease straight to Isagi's gut. "Oh, Red, are you actually this clueless?"

"Just get to the point." Isagi noted that there was an edge to Chigiri's voice.

Isagi could practically hear the leer in Kaiser's voice. "Don't you see, that everyone's got their eyes all over you?"

"What?" Even if Isagi couldn't see it, he could hear the surprise etched into Chigiri's voice. But Isagi couldn't bear to stand there and continue listening anymore.

Isagi barely heard the next few words they'd exchanged, over the swirl of unease and indignation inside him.

"Or maybe—you're already taken,"

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever your answer is; just know I always get what I want—"

"—Get away from him, Kaiser." Isagi all but barrelled into Kaiser's shoulder, controlling himself from grabbing onto his jersey. Kaiser looked at him like he was dirt, and a wicked sneer made its way onto his features.

"Isn't this a surprise," Kaiser drawled.

"I'm warning you." Isagi's fists were tensed by his side. Cameras be damned, he was getting more and more pissed off by the minute.

But Kaiser surprisingly didn't choose to linger. He stepped out of their way, not without shoulder checking Isagi.

"I must say, Yoichi has good taste in picking a friend," Kaiser smirked, licking his lips as he looked behind Isagi, "and I hope to see more of Hyoma soon."

Isagi managed to rein in his temper, and tore his eyes off of Kaiser's retreating figure. He breathed deeply, the last remnants of his anger leaving his body as he turned to face Chigiri.

"Chigiri," Isagi asked, "are you okay?"

The hair across Chigiri's face made it hard for Isagi to assess his expression. He stepped a bit closer.

"I'm sorry, this was all because of me." When Chigiri's head snapped up to look at him, Isagi felt bashfulness creep up his neck. "I should've known that Kaiser would resort to this just to get at me."

Chigiri continued looking at him, then looked away and sighed. "I guess I made an impression on him during that match."

He crossed his arms, almost protectively over his chest, and leaned against the wall. "Though, now I have no idea how I'm supposed to approach him the next time we meet."

Isagi blinked at him.

"Chigiri… you… do you not understand what Kaiser was saying?"

Chigiri's eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

"During that match, Kaiser wasn't just interested in your speed," Isagi felt a hint of annoyance rise at the memory before continuing on. "Kaiser wants you beyond that."

"And he knows he isn't the only one looking at you. A lot of people, actually, are paying much more attention than you'd think—and he wants to get you first." And the last thing Isagi wanted was another private encounter between Chigiri and Kaiser.

"So that's what Kaiser meant." Isagi finished, glancing down briefly before looking up just in time to see the bright red that bloomed across Chigiri's face, seeping into his ears, down to his neck. His hair gently framing his face, his ruby eyes growing rounder in his surprise—it was like Isagi had walked into a painting.

Isagi opened his mouth in surprise. Oh.

This whole time, he really didn't know.

"Chigiri—" Before Isagi could continue, Chigiri rushed past beside him, avoiding his gaze, and hurried towards the end of the hallway.

Even if Chigiri still shied behind his hair, he couldn't do anything to hide the flush on his nape.

Isagi watched until red wispy strands eventually left his view, and slouched against the wall. Just when he had a lot on his mind already, he was hit by the startling realisation that he'd liked to see that look appear on Chigiri's face for longer.