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"Hyoma."
It slips out like a curse word in front of a parent, like an airplane crashing into the ground at full speed.
It's familiar and inevitable, that Kunigami would let Chigiri's first name fall from his lips after thinking it so often. So often, in fact, that Kunigami doesn't realize that he's said anything wrong until Isagi points it out.
"The fuck?"
The fuck indeed, as half of the room was intensely confused, and the other half had been wondering when the two would finally fuck, and who would win the betting pool. Reo was internally calculating the profits for each person in the room, adding up sums in his head that had accumulated interest over the past five months. Most notably, Zantetsu owed Hiori fifty thousand yen.
Their merry band of egoists consisted of Isagi, Bachira, Kurona, Hiori, Zantetsu, Nagi & Reo, and of course, Kunigami & Chigiri.
"Are you two together," Zantetsu asked, "or do I have to cash in my 401k?"
Reo frowned. "You know that you don't have a salary yet, right?"
"What did I say that implied that I had one?"
Reo was going to snap and kill Zantetsu, but that day was not today. Reo needed to sort out whatever this was before it affected his profit margins.
Kunigami, the poor man, was too stunned to speak. Chigiri nonchalantly wrapped his arm around Kunigami, pulling the taller man to face level.
"Yeah. We're together."
It took a moment for everyone to register what had just happened - but once they had, applause filled the room, even drowning out Zantetsu's cheers at having avoided bankruptcy.
"Thank God, you guys," Hiori said. "I literally joined your table two weeks ago, and I knew that you two had crushes on each other on the first day."
Kunigami turned bright red, sputtering, and Chigiri withdrew his arm.
"Guys," Chigiri started, but everyone ignored the redhead, sharing their own painful experiences of seeing how oblivious the two had been, everyday, that Chigiri flirted with Kunigami on the daily, and why in God’s name it had taken so long for them to get together.
"Guys. We're not together."
The applause that had filled the room died down.
Nagi looked briefly confused, and then said, with dawning realization, "You call your ex by his first name?"
Some mutters that sounded suspiciously like no, dumbass, they're too in love to be divorced. Divorced? Kunigami wasn't even old enough to drive. Where did Nagi get the idea that him and Chigiri were married in the first place?
Chigiri laughed, because apparently this was all so funny to him. Funny, as if Kunigami going into cardiac arrest right there and then wouldn't be Hyoma - no, Chigiri's fault.
"It was a joke!"
"Ha, ha," Isagi commented dryly. "Good one."
A casual observer might have noticed that Kunigami’s left eye had started twitching in anger. Said casual observer may have checked in on him, asked him to please calm down and not storm out like a little kid throwing a tantrum, but this was Blue Lock! Everyone needed anger management and/or therapy, and Ego thought it would be detrimental towards his players’ growth to give them that privilege.
For example, Kunigami.
After being traumatized by Shidou for no reason other than preventing Igaguri’s head from being smashed in like a coconut, you would think that Kunigami would receive a reward for protecting the innocent, but again, this is Blue Lock! The question of whether you should protect people is insignificant, but rather if you have the strength to do so.
Rightfully, the previously considered golden boy of Team Z was now significantly more temperamental, but was temporarily calmed by Chigiri’s presence. There was a reason, one that Kunigami didn’t feel the need to name, for letting Chigiri be the only one to nickname him “hero”.
Now, let’s consider Kunigami’s already flustered state of mind, and how vulnerable he must feel as of this moment; being teased by his crush and having said crush laugh at the idea of them being in a relationship.
Kunigami slammed his lunch tray down and stood up off of the bench, that stupid tiny bench that only Chigiri could fit on.
"Kunigami? Kunigami!”
Ego’s voice echoed in his head, and the memories of his being experimented on broke through the dam he had put up to protect his sanity.
"Your only use to me is how well you can imitate the top striker."
"No one else cares. Isn’t that why you were abandoned here, instead of moving to the next stage?"
Ego had saved the worst for last.
"The red panther left you here because you were - no, are useless in your current state."
Kunigami, the phrase breaking his heart to ask it.
"How do I become worthy of him?"
Ego's advice:
"Train, goddamnit. Train to be better."
Kunigami had spent days after that comment alternating between the weights room and the pitch, sometimes falling asleep on the exercise mats and waking up to see Ego watching over him. More accurately, studying him like a particularly interesting subject.
Are you of worth to me? To him?
The answer was no - it would never be enough. So he kept straining, muscle fibers tearing and falling apart.
Do you want to be strong?
Strong like Chigiri.
Yet, he was still humiliated, running away when faced by rejection.
Just as Ego had taught him.
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Chigiri sat, stunned, the image of Kunigami leaving the cafeteria looping in his head.
He hadn’t meant to push Kunigami so far as to leave. Chigiri had meant to push him to take that first step; had been hinting at it for the couple months since Kunigami had come back, changed, from the Wild Card program.
Kunigami was so - so -
“Stupid, right?”
Reo placed his hand on top of Nagi’s, resulting in a small grunt of acknowledgment from the latter.
“You think he’s stupid, because he won’t acknowledge that there’s something between you two.”
Did Reo read minds? Was this some rich people manipulation stuff?
“No, I don’t read minds,” Reo informed Chigiri. “I went through the same thing with Nagi, and I thought that some advice might be beneficial to avoid the weeks of angst.”
Everyone at the table nodded in agreement. They hadn’t been on Reo’s team during the second selection, but had heard of his legendary emo phase after Nagi had left him.
“Don’t push him. Just be there,” and to Chigiri’s surprise, it was Nagi who had said this. The sloth, who all but tuned out the subject of romance in general.
"I don't know if this is the same thing," Nagi added, now intertwining Reo's fingers with his, "but Reo was always helping me. I think he might've helped me a little too much, to be honest."
Reo, humbled, nodded.
"I built up Nagi in my head as this impenetrable, genius of a player who couldn't be beaten." Reo glanced at Isagi. The blue-eyed striker tried (and failed) to hide a smirk. It had been satisfying to watch the top wing lose to the supposedly weakest one during the first selection.
Chigiri still didn't realize how this applied to his situation. Reo decided that he had to be more direct. After all, this wouldn't have happened if the famous princess of Blue Lock had been straight-up with Kunigami in the first place.
"Have you ever asked Kunigami what exactly happened in the Wild Card program?"
No response. Hiori had to dumb it down even further.
"Do you think that there's a specific reason as to why he hasn't told you?"
Chigiri burst out in frustration. "I've tried! You think I haven't? He won't open up at all about what happened, and I can't tell if it's because I'm not close enough to be told his experiences, or if Kunigami assumed that I'm condescending to him, somehow, and I don't know what to do."
That was the truth, raw and bleeding in its enormity, too big to pin down and erase.
I don't know how to fix him.
Now it was Bachira, practically lying down on Isagi's shoulder with the kind of familiarity that only came from completely trusting the person you lay on and knowing that they wouldn't push you off.
"Do you need to? Fix him, I mean."
Isagi started absentmindedly drawing circles in the water that Kunigami had spilt.
"Isagi-kun didn't mind my monster. He didn't think that it was something to fix, because it wasn't a problem."
Chigiri stared at the two, and wondered how he had never noticed the depth of their relationship. Sure, Rin and Barou had been the most dramatic, pulling up Isagi by the fabric of his shirt and naming him as their rivals, but Bachira had always been there in the background to be relied upon, waiting for the chance to play with Isagi and feel comfortable playing with someone who understood the monster as well as its master.
"Stay by his side," Bachira continued. "And then maybe Kunigami will tell you everything, or he'll feel better knowing that you're there."
Chigiri - no, everyone was stunned at the simple wisdom that the little bee of Blue Lock had dispensed.
Isagi patted Bachira on the head. "You're kinda weird, you know that?"
"I do."
"Cool."
It was heartbreaking and heartwarming, the care that these couples had for each other.
"Chigiri?" Isagi asked. "What are you still doing here?"
"Huh?" Lunch wasn't over yet.
"Go get your man," Reo added, along with a fond "dumbass."
And so Chigiri did.
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Chigiri ran, sprinted down the hallways as if his leg was made of platinum instead of glass, ran, breathing in and out as naturally as if he had been running for his entire life.
He had, Chigiri realized, been running for his whole life. This was just the first time that he'd run outside of the pitch, ran for someone rather than only for the joy of doing so.
Down the hallway, to the right - wait, backtrack, that was the way to the baths - left, left, another winding passageway to go down, but it was nothing for Chigiri. He knew where Kunigami would be.
In the weight rooms, lifting barbells over twice his body mass, was Kunigami.
Chigiri had known that Kunigami wouldn't go to the former Team Z living quarters - too many flashbacks of befores - before the team had split up, before the wall that Kunigami wouldn't breached had been formed between himself and everyone that wasn't one of the Wild Card test subjects. Everyone that was left, because the few others that had participated in the project had disappeared.
"How did you know where to find me?"
Chigiri laughed. "You think you're slick, Mr. Hero? You're in here every night, exercising hours past all the players' bedtimes."
Kunigami paused, bracing himself for an insult, and Chigiri was sorry, so sorry that he'd made himself 'just someone else' to the man in front of him.
"You don't have to force yourself to be strong."
That...was not what Kunigami had expected, and he'd responded without thinking.
"Obviously, I do. I'm fucking useless without it." Kunigami let the barbell drop with a heavy clunk. "Only reason why I was invited here in the first place."
Kunigami continued, and Chigiri had the sense that this was an oft repeated mental beatdown.
"I'm Tokimitsu, but with less endurance. Barou without his ego. An Ichigo lookalike with a savior complex to match, but none of the power that defined his character. I'm the product of what happens when you never tell a child that heroes don't exist."
Chigiri didn't say anything immediately, and Kunigami's stomach dropped as if it had been weighed down by rocks, or manacles.
"Ego!"
A voice, projected from the control room.. Speaking to failures didn't necessitate looking them in the eyes.
"Ego-san, if you will. Or director."
Don't chain me, please.
I'll be stronger, please.
"I'll be worthy," Kunigami said, and a sigh telegraphed over the intercom.
They both knew it was a lie.
"Maybe," Chigiri said, softly, stepping towards Kunigami cautiously as one might a stray cat.
"Maybe, that's optimism."
Kunigami couldn't help himself. He started laughing hysterically, the cackles bouncing off of the walls and reflecting back at him.
"Optimism? Optimism is delusion. Optimism is not knowing when you're beat."
Chigiri stared, and Kunigami couldn't bring himself to meet the redhead's eyes.
"Optimism is for wannabe strikers who can't score a goal unless another, better player places it right in front of them."
Chigiri looked terrified. Of course, Kunigami had scared off the one person who bothered to check in on him. He was better off scoring his own goals, making his own opportunities.
"What are you, worthless on your own without Isagi Yoichi to spoon-feed a goal to you?"
Chigiri placed a hand on Kunigami's arm, shocking both of them.
"I think," Chigiri said slowly, as if watching the mental wall for a moment, witnessing it for the final time before smashing it to bits. "that the world needs heroes."
The two sat with that for a moment, Kunigami still staring down at the floor.
"Rensuke?"
Kunigami despised Chigiri now, for the scars and wounds that were left exposed by his one weakness, this glaring (radiant), eye-catching (beautiful), naive (dreaming, wonderful, bright-eyed dreamer) rival who'd stolen a spot in the second selection. A spot that could've been his, but it was so easy to forget about that when Chigiri (Hyoma) was angling Kunigami's face towards his, staring at him with those ruby red eyes.
"Have I ever told you," Chigiri whispered, the breath and the words it contained ghosting against Kunigami's cheeks, "that I've always wanted a hero?"
Chigiri left the space between their mouths untouched, and Kunigami dug his fingers into Chigiri's hair and kissed him, blindly, and although the remnants of Ego's voice swirled in his head, the sensations of his lips on Chigiri's, the silk-like hair under his fingers, the impossibility of the fact that he was kissing Hyoma without thinking about what came next, what that meant for them.
Kunigami broke it off, only because he had started to get lightheaded.
Chigiri smiled slyly at him, and Kunigami was fully grinning now, giddy with exhilaration. Only with Hyoma could kissing be a competition of who could pull away first.
"By the way," Chigiri said, mock-serious expression on his face.
"A princess needs his knight, and I think that it would seriously change our dynamic if you started acting like an evil tyrant."
But Kunigami had been terrifying, even to himself. How the hell was Hyoma not scared of him?
"Oh my God." Chigiri looked up at the ceiling, and prayed that the love of his life was not as stupid as he seemed. Kunigami might be, in fact, because Chigiri's new boyfriend (love interest? homie that kissed him?) had spoken his thoughts out loud without realizing it.
"You idiot. I was scared of you because I was scared that you'd reject me."
And then the unspoken, 'because I was scared that you'd hurt yourself and me by doing so, because it's what you believe you deserve.'
Kunigami, surprisingly, wasn't deterred by Chigiri's brutal honesty. He'd already heard it phrased thousands of times by the inner voices representing his doubts, the voices that took the shape of Jinpachi Ego, and worded far more harshly.
"One more thing," and then Chigiri added cheekily, "Rensuke."
Kunigami was going to start having heart palpitations if this became something they did regularly. He was nervous around Chigiri without hearing his first name from his boyfriend's(?) mouth, thanks.
"We're dating, right?"
Despite his promises to swear off love, to focus on himself, Kunigami didn't mind opening the wound in his heart a little wider. He had been nursing it for ages.
"Yes. Just don't tease me like that again."
Chigiri "hmm"ed noncommittally. That was fine with Kunigami. He was blessed enough already.
Maybe, one day, he would talk about it, but he knew that Hyoma wouldn't rush him in the meantime.
For now, they were in a world of their own, where neither monsters that whispered from the dark nor voices that came in from all sides could phase them. Where princesses and knights would win in the end, relying on each other to save the day and protect them at night from the devils that they couldn't fight.
It was good for now, and that was all either of them needed to hear.