Chapter Text
Chigiri never thought he’d find a use for himself. Days spent dreaming about future passions amounted to nothing for him. He really believed he'd live and die with nothing for him to... live for.
It isn't like he hated life. But he did hate how dull it felt some days. He hated how bleak and boring his future seemed.
He hated how much more boring he seemed to become with each passing day.
But the pull of the net, the captivating aura of the pitch – he felt like he’d walked upon a completely new calling. The first time he ever made the effort to go along with Koyuki to one of their town’s spontaneous games, he didn’t think for a second that the bright lights and the humid crowds were an environment he wanted to stay in for long.
But the first kickoff opened the full to bursting lockers of enthusiasm the audience held in their hearts, and Chigiri felt something similar festering in the depths of his stomach. This rush – this raw, untethered, overflowing rush – filled his body entirely, contaminating each and every one of his cells with the flame of passion.
He knew at that moment that this is what he’d been looking for. A new bottomless pit he could remorselessly throw his talent into. Chigiri Hyoma wanted to turn the grass of the field to dust beneath his feet. He wanted to be a blur in the eyes of those above him.
Chigiri Hyoma, beneath it all, wanted to play football.
————————————————————— ˖°.🌹
The slam of the club door remained in the back of Chigiri’s mind as he walked listlessly between classes. He’d never really cared for the track team in the first place. Everyone there was the same – a bunch of snobby, stuck up speedsters who thought their positions were set in stone for the rest of their lives. It’s not as if he couldn’t keep up with them; he was plenty fast compared to the majority of the students there, despite only being a second year.
But he had to admit, his mindset was the same as theirs, for the most part – at least until he realised the influence Loki had held over the team. They were all blind followers, that was all they were, and they’d never ever ever amount to anything. That’s what he told himself in order to expel any lingering regrets over leaving the track club.
No matter what the downsides of leaving might have been, he was definitely sure of one benefit – getting away from Loki. Despite only having joined the school through an international transfer program halfway through the previous term, Loki had the entire club under his thumb less than a month after he arrived. It was always “practice Loki’s drills”, “sign up to the competitions Loki said to”, “Let Loki choose the anchor”. It got old real quick.
Nobody had any opinions anymore. The moment Loki appeared and crushed everyone’s PB’s, it’s as if his decisions were the only ones that mattered. Track might not have been the most exciting pastime, but it at least gave Chigiri somewhat of a community.
That semblance of enjoyment he got from it was broken the moment Loki stepped in. All of this was Loki’s fault, he’d never have left if not for him. That meddling buzz cut dictator ruined everything.
“Hyoma, I know you’re ignoring me on purpose. Just tell me you aren’t interested in what I’m saying and I’ll stop, you jerk!”
He looked up from his untouched biology assignment as thin purple locks of hair fell into his field of vision. Reo shot him a glare from the desk across from him, upset at his eighteenth tangent about whatever or else being brushed aside.
Chigiri, being accustomed to Reo’s brazen behaviour, simply shrugged and lazily propped his chin up on his arms.
“Excuse me if I don’t want to listen to you complain about your lavish life. I’ve got things on my mind today, so leave me alone, wouldn’t you…?”
Reo frowned at him again before turning around, rolling his eraser between his knuckles as a new way to expel his frustration.
Chigiri can’t truthfully say that he felt bad – Reo dumped on him an excessive amount, and if Chigiri never reprimanded him he’d never hear the end of Reo’s rants.
He closed his eyes once more, letting his thoughts float away with the drafts from the classroom windows, before they finally landed on the track team – again.
Various voices ricocheted inside his skull until the bell finally rang and he felt Reo’s firm hand grab onto his sleeve, hauling him out of his chair.
“I’ve got no idea what’s got you so drowsy today, but you told me you were looking at the football club signups earlier this week. I’m not letting you flake on me again – you said we’d go together, remember?”
“Club? You sure…?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You said so yesterday.”
“Why on earth would I agree to go look at the football club with you…?”
“‘Cause Nagi’s there, and I don’t want to go alone, and I – I shouldn’t be making excuses, you said so already, so don’t stall!”
The football club… a dumb decision Chigiri had probably made while in one of his nostalgic episodes. Yeah, he might have been serious at the time, but it was just another of many impulsive decisions in the end. A consideration, at best. He was probably delusional from leaving the track team.
Reo tugged Chigiri out and into the hallway with minimal effort, not even pausing to breathe whilst voicing how excited he was to spend more time with Nagi.
“Ever since my dad made me join the student council I’ve been bombarded with paperwork and class assignments and event planning… I’ve got nearly no time to myself, which means I can never have Nagi over anymore – but if I can trade council for a club instead, I’ll get sooo much less work and spend all of my time running up and down a field with my treasure… he must miss me so much, don’t you know…”
They walked down from the main classroom block, and as they passed by the vast window panes, Chigiri caught a glimpse of miniscule figures kicking a ball around on the ground. The football club, huh? And here he was, thinking he’d finally have some time to himself, now that track was off the table…
His train of thought was ripped away from him as Reo abruptly came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, just barely preventing a collision with what looked like a brick wall of a man.
“Hey, watch where you’re… Oh, it’s… Kunigami-san, was it? You’re in the football club with Nagi, aren’t you?”
Reo’s face brightened with every realisation he made, and Chigiri’s spirits only fell in inverse proportion. The last thing he needed was a shortcut into this whole mess. He stole a glance at “Kunigami-san”, still trying to look as uninterested as possible. The newcomer stood awkwardly, like he wanted to leave.
Strange, considering the solid presence you’d expect someone like him to have. Chigiri supposed it made sense – the guy probably just wanted to make it to his club on time. He had the demeanour of someone dependable, a nice commodity within football.
The stranger – no, Kunigami, – ran his hand through his voluminous apricot hair, seemingly trying to get Reo’s endless questions out of the way as quickly as possible. Chigiri stood to the side, once again preparing to look uninterested, until something Kunigami said caught his ear.
“I guess it’s true that we’re lacking players… we’d appreciate some tryouts, if you’re willing.”
There’s… really no way!?
There’s really, really no way that Reo had just gotten them both a direct entry into the football club!?
Before he had a chance to object, he was following Reo and Kunigami down the winding staircase and outside onto the playing field. This wasn’t how he envisioned it at all. He’d hoped that he’d at least have a little time to learn the basics, but now he was just being tossed straight into the deep end.
Chigiri had never played football with anyone but himself (and Koyuki’s friends, back in middle school… but that didn’t count, they never played seriously with him anyways), and his knowledge of the rules and plays only came from watching the occasional match on TV, or, again, Koyuki dragging him out to a game.
Reo, however, did play on the side and continued bombarding Kunigami relentlessly about plays and positions.
“Just how many players do you have? Surely enough for the next tournament, though it must be a shame not to have any subs… You’ll be going up against Yumenosaki Academy’s football team, won’t you? It’s that performance arts school. Haven’t you heard of them? Shouldn’t be that difficult of a game, right? At least not if you have the right number of players…”
“Um, I’m not su–”
“Anyways, what position do you think I could end up playing if I got in? Nagi’s one of your forwards, right? I’m the best person to send him passes, so do me a favour and get us as close as possible~”
“You’ll have to try out first…”
Kunigami could barely keep up with the onslaught, but answered as best as he could as they walked outside. The whole time, Chigiri noticed the guy constantly sneaking glances at him as he trailed behind Reo. Chigiri, of course, caught them every time and stared back unwaveringly until he stopped. Every time he was caught, he turned around, brought up his hand and scratched the back of his neck as if nothing happened.
Chigiri bristled and slowed his steps so that there was a little more distance between the two. He had no idea what was going on inside that guy’s head, but whatever it was, he wanted it to stop. He hated to think that he was being silently judged.
By the time they reached the playing field, he was sweating a yellow line down his back. All he was going to do here was embarrass himself, right before he’ll go crawling back to Loki, just like he always has –
A ball came rolling to his feet.
Followed by an overly audacious voice shouting at him from across the pitch.
“Hey, girl – yeah, you – could you be a pet and kick that over here?”
Chigiri looked around until his eyes landed on the speaker. The origin of the voice was a seedy looking third year; he had white hair covering half of his face with a verdant green stripe down the middle. Like a strand of spring onion. Kind of a stupid haircut, but to each their own.
He was wearing a jersey emblazoned with the number 6. It hung off of his frame like the shoulders were too wide, and it, along with the characteristic green stripe, gave off the image that he belonged to some sort of delinquent gang.
A few other players were scattered across the pitch; some short kid with a bushel of hair covering his eyes, and a taller one wearing ridiculous looking bright orange sports goggles right by him. He recognised the second athlete, but couldn’t quite pin down the memory.
His eyes went back to rest on the ball. It definitely looked kicked, that’s for sure. It was worn and quite a few of the black patches were peeling off. He gently tapped it in the direction of spring onion and shouted right back at him.
“I’m a guy, you know.”
Spring Onion started, but quickly recovered, laughing off his surprise.
“Seriously~? I had no idea, could never have guessed from this far. Guess asking you to dinner is off the table then, huh?”
Chigiri noticed Kunigami also flick his gaze towards him for a second, before yet again turning back as if nothing happened.
He probably thought I was a girl, too… Reo’s girlfriend or something. Is that why he kept looking back at me? Oh, ew… and practically impossible. After all… Nagi’s here, isn’t he?
As if telepathic, Nagi walked out of the changing rooms at the very moment the thought appeared in Chigiri’s mind.
Seishiro Nagi, the ace of a losing deck of cards. At first glance, his tousled hair, wrinkled clothes and lazy stance would be enough to convince anyone that this guy just didn’t do sports. That might've really been the case, if not for one person in particular.
Reo Mikage had been the one to encourage Nagi to make use of his talents in the dying football club, promising it would bring him a more ‘interesting life’ and vowing to join him there as soon as possible.
The two had been joined at the hip as of late, of which Chigiri had been the most prominent witness, thanks to being in the same form. Despite only having really become friends at the start of the school year, any onlooker would think they’d been together their whole lives.
Reo, in particular, obsessed over Nagi to the point it caused concern. He took it upon himself to be his makeshift football coach and cheerleader until Nagi finally gave in and tried out for the team. Of course, he got in with flying colours.
Chigiri, having been friends with Reo for far longer, was understandably ticked that Reo had ignored him in favour of his new ‘project’. However, his feelings soon dissolved, being replaced by slightly nauseated pity.
Reo was chronically lovesick, to the point that Chigiri actually found it draining to be around him sometimes.
Nagi at least wasn’t as obsessive as Reo was, but he’d settled into such a comfortable routine with him that he’d reverted to acting like a ragdoll whenever Reo was around.
A completely different persona than the one he holds on the pitch, Chigiri mused.
Nagi’s drowsy eyes scanned the sidelines until he found the excited face he was looking for.
“Oh… there you are, Reo… I really wasn’t gonna come to practice today, but you said you were gonna try out, since you’ve got less student council work… Carry me, won’t you…?”
As if the sun itself had offered him its embrace, Reo’s entire face brightened. He grabbed Nagi’s legs and hoisted him up onto his own back with a practiced routine, as if they’d done this hundreds of times before.
Chigiri, unfortunately, had also seen this done hundreds of times before. Gosh, he really hated being alive around those two.
Nagi settled himself on Reo’s back before pointing in a vague direction and yawning. “Hey, captain… let Reo join the team, won’tcha… making him go through the hassle of tryouts is just too much work… I won’t have any fun ‘nless he’s here too, you know…?”
Chigiri’s eyes followed the direction of Nagi’s hand until they landed on the figure of another boy in the distance. If his memory served him correctly, this was probably the captain of the football club, Yoichi Isagi.
He looked pretty plain, considering he was captain of the football team… but Chigiri supposed appearances weren’t everything.
Isagi was something of a legend at their school – and by legend, he meant something along the lines of a basement ghost, not some incredible athlete among the students. His motivations were so strange that half the school doubted his existence.
Isagi was scarily determined to keep the football club together, to the point that when the previous coach quit, he used his leverage as an honour pupil and student council secretary to keep it running without one.
That meant he had to deal with the signups, tournament paperwork, practice session plans and everything usually handed over to the coach. On top of his council work and being a high achieving student, it couldn’t be easy.
A bunch of theories were thrown around every other day – “Isagi’s a scout in disguise”, “Isagi’s the ghost of a graduated captain trying to bring the team back”, “Isagi’s cross eyed, so he thinks they’ve got fourteen players”, and other ridiculous stories.
The truth behind Isagi’s desperation to keep the club alive was just as much a mystery to Chigiri as anyone else, but he was down to earth enough to respect whatever it was. It haunted him the kind of stories people might come up with if it came out that he ‘left’ the track team. He didn’t want to make the same assumptions about the football captain.
Isagi sighed as he walked over to the trio, the afternoon sun highlighting his, quite frankly, worn-out features. Chigiri was surprised to see how tired he looked – the guy looked like it was taking him a huge effort just not to fall down.
All the work was probably taking a toll on him, all while providing no outcome. Despite Isagi’s efforts, the football club members dwindled every week as more and more people stopped showing up.
His voice was dry as he regarded Nagi.
“You know we can’t do that… if we go around letting anyone join, it’ll bring down the synergy of the team. You of all people should know that, Nagi. It means you’ll perform worse too.”
“But we’re running low on players, aren’t we…?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean–”
Nagi took to pointing at Spring Onion.
“Otoya doesn’t even play at this school, he just wears Karasu’s stuff until he’s kicked out…”
“Okay, but–”
“We only have seven players not including Otoya, no goalie, and no subs…”
“That’s why we’re holding tryouts–” Nagi moved his hand to gesture at Chigiri before continuing.
“And it’s been a week, and only Reo and Princess have shown up.”
“...”
Another yawn. “I was on the verge of leaving too, y’know… just let them join, or you’ll only have six players. Tryouts are such a hassle…”
Isagi was silent for what felt like a minute straight.
“Y-you… you can’t… do that…”
Kunigami clapped his hands together resolutely. “Well, it’s decided then. Nagi, you know we can’t lose you just yet, so – Mikage-san and Pr–, I mean, Mikage’s friend – welcome to the team. We ask that you try your hardest as part of our team, Blue Lock. We’re glad to have you.”
Less than twenty words out of his own mouth, and he’d already been drafted. Chigiri knew by now that there really wasn’t any hope of getting out of this, was there…
————————————————————— ˖°.🌹
Chigiri walked down to the bus stop in silence behind Nagi and Reo, who were too wrapped up in one another to notice him. Either that, or they were too embarrassed to have a conversation with him just then.
He wouldn’t blame them either. He knew the football club was a mistake. He knew everything was a mistake. He knew everything Reo conjured in his stupid, overblown, scarily obsessed brain was a mistake, through and through.
Reo, Reo, Reo. He just got his ass dragged across the court for an hour and a half nonstop, and it was all Reo’s fault. He was starting to get tired of the little rich boy. His thoughts shot back to the practice session, causing him to drag his footsteps even more than he already was.
It’s not that he was embarrassed about it – he had far more important things to do than be embarrassed about his performance at high school sports tryouts, like some 2000’s sitcom cheerleader – but more… overwhelmed. Despite the lack of players, every member of Blue Lock had overwhelming skill, each equipped with their own mix of special talents that made them stand out.
The only exception to this was Reo, who was the closest to Chigiri’s own skill level. But even he managed to catch on quickly and nab some tricks from the other players, much to their approval. Even Reo was doing better than him. Being accepted faster than him.
For some reason, it irked Chigiri more than it should have. All Chigiri had was his speed, built up from years of running and natural talent. But even it wasn’t all that useful when he barely knew how to manoeuvre his feet around a ball. He knew that with time, he’d probably get used to the sport completely. But Reo had dragged him in blind, and he’d been completely overshadowed and ignored by the rest of the team.
Frustration settled on him like a thick layer of snow on a ground awaiting winter. Yeah, whatever, he doesn’t ever get embarrassed or anything… but he’d really made a fool of himself back there.
If Reo had just given him some time – if Reo just hadn’t been the pining idiot he always was…
Chigiri sighed, his breath appearing in front of him as a soft cloud of mist diffusing into the air. Too late to worry about that now. It didn’t matter anyways. He’d already decided that football wasn’t what he thought it was.
As much as he tried, he couldn’t recognise the spark he was chasing anywhere on the field today. Just as he expected, but he couldn’t help but feel at least a little disappointed that he hadn’t found another worthwhile extracurricular.
However, there was one conversation in particular that kept scratching at the back of his brain.
————————————————————— ˖°.🌹
That guy had come around to ask after him once practice was over.
“Your name… it was Chigiri, wasn’t it? I’m Kunigami. You probably know that from your friend Mikage already.”
Chigiri, having been in a foul mood at the time, didn’t bother with etiquette.
“What of it? You here to tell me just how great I did today? Reo’s done enough of that, you can leave now.”
Kunigami didn’t seem phased at his behaviour at all. Chigiri hated people like him – thinking they were thick skinned just because they were able to handle one jab? He’d send this biceps-for-brains crying back to his team.
“I didn’t come for that, don’t get me wrong. It’s not my place. I basically dragged you and Reo into this in the first place, didn’t I? I just wanted to ask you something.”
So you can take responsibility for your actions now, can’t you.
Chigiri still wasn’t convinced, and he definitely wasn’t going to sit around and get ridiculed. But still… he couldn’t help but be a little intrigued.
“So what did you come for?”
Kunigami didn’t have the decency to look even a little nervous.
“Were you even trying out there?”
Chigiri paused for a moment, stunned. He knew he performed badly. But was it really so bad that he needed to be asked such a forward question?
“No, that came out a little bluntly, didn’t it. Let me rephrase that. Do you really want to be here, is what I meant to ask. I recognise you from the track team. And Yukimiya only confirmed my theory. You’re Hyoma Chigiri, one of the best runners there. Why would you waste your time on the football club? Even though nobody’s saying it, we all know this thing’s a lost cause.”
He flinched at the mention of his old club. Guess not everyone knew of his melodramatic exit from the track team yet. And he knew he recognised that glasses bastard from earlier – Kenyu Yukimiya. He’d been on the track team last year. Who was he to tell other people about Chigiri’s business?
“You’re their star anchor, aren't you? I’m just wondering why you came here at all. I know I said it’s not my place, but this isn’t exactly your forte. I’m sure you’d get on well with some practice, but why not stick with track?”
Chigiri glared at him, a thick tension filling the room.
“Who are you to decide if I should leave or join? Pretty bold of you to jump out and dictate my life like that. I wanted a change, that’s all.”
Kunigami stiffened, and Chigiri noticed. Good. The more uncomfortable he felt, the better.
“I’m not trying to dictate anything. It just looked like you only came to follow Reo, and I’m just wondering if you wanted an out. Your name isn't down in our files yet, Isagi hasn’t gotten round to it. You can just… leave, if you want.”
Chigiri didn’t like the practice session all that much, but there was a spark of defensiveness flaring in his gut. He felt like he was being talked down to, and he despised it.
“What makes you think I want to leave? Who do you think you are, some knockoff hero? I’m doing perfectly fine here.”
“I think your skills would be of better use in the track team, is all. Just giving you my honest piece.”
“I’ll use my skills however I damn well please. I don’t need you to save me from playing a sport that I chose to play. This is beyond your call of duty, hero.”
Kunigami looked at him appraisingly, having seemingly reached some sort of conclusion.
“Well, I’m glad to see you’ve made up your mind. Now I’m only more excited to see you really play.”
“What do you mean, 'really'? This is the first time you’ve ever seen me kick a ball. As far as you know, this could be the extent of my skills. Don’t go making assumptions.”
“Then I’ll be honest – the way you play football’s rusty as hell. But you know what you’re doing. Or at least, what you’re trying to do. You’ve played before, or you at least watch it often. Am I right?”
“If you want someone to validate your guesses, don’t come to me. I already told you not to assume anything.”
“I think I will. And I sure hope I’m right. Come ready next practice. I wanna play football with you.”
Kunigami’s declaration left a nervous pit in Chigiri’s stomach. What the hell did he mean by that? And why did it leave such a strong impression on Chigiri’s mind?
————————————————————— ˖°.🌹
Chigiri was knocked out of his reminiscence by Reo’s piercing voice.
“Hyoma, I won’t be walking you to the bus stop today. Nagi’s coming over to my place, and I already called my chauffeur, so we’ll wait around here for him. See you tomorrow?”
Chigiri tried not to frown. Well, not really – he had no qualms about letting Reo how he felt about this. Reo knew exactly what that face meant. ‘You’d seriously ditch me to hang out with your situationship???’
He tried his best not to make eye contact as he waved Chigiri away.
Chigiri didn’t even grace Reo with a ‘goodbye’ as he stalked off. You’re being sour, he thought. Since when were you ever this petty? Get a hold of yourself.
Chigiri slowed his steps as he examined the pavement below him. A mycelium of cracks spread across the pavement. He thought back to the biology lesson of that morning. Like a system of fungi invading a host… Not too dissimilar to how he felt right now.
He couldn’t help but feel either frustrated or exhausted lately. Like something was slowly invading his sense of self, messing with his emotions entirely. He’d never been in such a slump before. Having all this time and nothing he loved enough to fill it with was slowly boring a hole into his body.
Chigiri never felt like he was worthwhile unless he was doing something. These past few weeks had been painfully devoid of that something.
His hands clenched at his sides as he walked. He didn’t think being bored was so damaging. Despite the cold, he felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. Even just thinking about it made him lightheaded. He quickened his pace in the hope he’d get to the bus before he collapsed in the middle of the street.
What if he wasted away without ever finding that ‘something’? He’d already tried and failed, twice. Was that how it was meant to go every time? Was his foolish ideal of ‘passion’ just the delusion of some starstruck kid? If only he’d kept his head down. If only he’d never gotten involved. If he’d never given himself the hope of finding a ‘passion’, he wouldn’t have dug himself into this hole at all.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the sudden wave of fatigue out of his body. He was looking too deep into this – again. If anyone else were to see him act this way…
He found the energy to look up, hoping to see the bus stop nearby. Thankfully, it was just a few yards away. He stood in an empty corner and closed his eyes, trusting that the gentle hum of the engine would alert him to the bus’s arrival.
By the time he arrived home, he felt too sick to even do his haircare. He rarely had the energy to do it anymore. For the past month or so, he rarely had the energy to take care of himself at all – something completely out of character for him. He knew the extended neglect would eventually come back to bite him, but he couldn’t bother caring too much about it.
He threw on a headband and curled into bed, trying his hardest to ward away any visions of his talents shrivelling away.