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"Wow, Isagi, wow."
Isagi whined, her voice hoarse as she flopped herself on her best friend's bed, face flat on the sheets.
"Stop complaining. No one brought you here but yourself," Chigiri sat on her bed, voice deadpan.
She wasn't trying to be mean, Chigiri just wasn't in the mood for bullshit.
Isagi didn't respond, letting the silence and the shame swallow her before she felt a hand in her hair.
Chigiri stroked the soft, short locks of blue hair slowly, before she also plopped herself down on the bed as well.
Now it was Isagi on her stomach, and Chigiri on her back.
"OK, Isagi, I'm willing to listen, just this once-"
"You always listen to me talk, even if you don't like it," Isagi choked out into Chigiri's pillow.
Chigiri snorted before she turned on her side, rustling the sheets as she slowly brought her hand from Isagi's hair to her chin.
"Tell me from the beginning, please?"
Chigiri's soft uncharacteristic plea made Isagi turn to look at her, throat tight and face red.
When a few moments passed and Isagi didn't answer, Chigiri went back to stroking her best friend's hair.
"I think Bachira hates me."
Chigiri rattled, sitting up so fast she almost got a whiplash.
The sheer absurdity of the statement genuinly left her there reeling in shock.
"Pardon? Are we seeing the same Bachira?"
Chigiri didn't let up, Isagi's silence was making her nervous. How could Isagi even think that?
"Bachira adores you, you know that."
Chigiri knew that both her best friends weren't exactly hiding anything from each other, but not exactly saying everything either.
She knew they basically shared a brain and a soul, but their interests (other than soccer) and personalities lay in two different spaces.
"Just tell me why you think she hates you, and I swear I'll drop it."
Isagi wasn't used to Chigiri begging, hell, Chigiri wasn't used to herself begging.
But if for one moment, one, serious moment, that Chigiri saw her best friend's friendship with her other best friend breaking apart, she would be the first, the damn first, to stop it.
"Do you remember when me and Bachira first met?"
Chigiri nodded, silently urging Isagi to continue.
"She came up to me, in the soccer tryours, and shamelessly asked me if she could have my towel since she forgot hers."
Chigiri giggled, because how could she not remember?
----
"Hey Ms. Egoist," a sun kissed girl said in a sing song voice, waving her sweaty hand infront of Isagi's face that Chigiri had remembered cringing.
(She didn't know either of them well that day, but god did she want to take Isagi in her arms (atleast away from Bachira's sweaty body).)
Isagi had looked around then, but even her oblivious self knew that the only person the girl could possibly be talking to was her.
"Uh, Egoist-?"
"Yah! Because you get all spooky and creepy on the field, I saw it, y'kow?" Bachira was now face to face with Isagi, basically pinning Isagi to the bench she was siting on.
Isagi's face flushed, more from shyness that exhaustion as she looked at Bachira's amber eyes, noting the pretty gold flecks scattered in her iris's.
"Mind if I use your towel, Ms. Egoist?"
The voice was softer now, more calmer and tired as Bachira leaned back to shoot the girl she was pinning a grin.
Isagi didn't comprehend the question, it didn't even get to load in her brain before she was already handing Bachira her towel (she didn't get to use it yet either. She just jumped straight to her water).
"Thanksies!! Your a lifesaver Ms. Egoist," Bachira sighed, closing her eyes and smiling at Isagi before wiping her forehead.
"It's no trouble," Isagi stumbled, her voice jumbled as her cheeks slowly started heating up again. "And it's Isagi. Isagi Yoichi."
Bachira turned to look at her face bright as her smile widened.
"I like Ms. Egoist better, Isagi," she teased.
God that damn smile.
"Who would've thought a girl would give another girl her towel, talk about too kind, right? Or maybe there aren't enough people like you."
"I had a spare towel anyways."
Now, Isagi barely lied, but for some unknown reason, this pretty and seemingly straightforward girl infront of her had made her say a completely harmless lie.
"Always prepared, aren't ya?"
"Hm, seems like it."
-----
"Yeah?" Chigiri answered, finally just resting her hand on top of Isagi's head.
"And ya know how that went, don't you?"
Chigiri obviously knew.
Well, as far she was concerned, Bachira was basically Isagi's human backpack. Both literally and physically.
She walked around following Isagi, knew her schedule and what she took in her classes, and was generally really just wrapping herself around Isagi's back any chance she got.
Chigiri, of course having met Isagi (properly) a few days after that, had joined in the little trio. And then it became a quadruple, like, a few moments after that, with Kunigami ofcourse, who else?
It was their tight little group, until they became too busy with school, and assignments, and practice, and other stuff.
And while that didn't affect any of them much (it was high-school, obviously they knew they would have a load), there were still gaps in their freindships.
Chigiri did now come to realise that Isagi, as oblivious as she is, hasn't exactly been in constant talk with Bachira.
"We hit it off, and gosh, Hyo, do you know how much I thank every god that exists, for the day I met her?"
Chigiri didn't have an answer to that, because no, truthfully, she didn't.
"She means alot to you, she means alot to me, you mean alot to me, so can you just spit it out?" Chigiri finally said, her breath now hitting Isagi's face as she got closer.
"I don't know."
A sharp jagged laugh escaped Chigiri's mouth.
"You don't know?"
Isagi nodded, her head bowed in shame as she sat up on her elbows.
"Or maybe I do know. I'm a horrible friend."
"I’m a horrible friend, Hyo," Isagi whispered again, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.
She pulled her knees to her chest, trying to make herself smaller.
"I’ve been so caught up in evolving... in the way Rin moves, in the way Kaiser calculates, in the way Barou just destroys everything in her way. It’s like I’ve been living in a constant state of ‘I need to devour them,’ and I forgot that… that Bachira isn't a puzzle to be solved or a defender to be surpassed."
Isagi looked up at the ceiling, her eyes glassy.
"I look at my messages, and I see ones from her from three weeks ago that I just… marked as read and forgot to reply to. Because I was watching film on Nagi. Because I was obsessing over a passing lane. I turned her into background noise, Chigiri. I treated my best friend like a training drill I already cleared."
She let out a shaky, self-deprecating laugh.
"And the worst part? When I do see her, I don't even talk to her about how she is. I talk about the game. I talk about my progress. I’ve made our entire friendship just a reflection of my own ego. How can she not hate me? I’m not her best friend anymore. I’m just… I’m just a ghost haunting her life, only showing up when I need to talk about soccer."
Chigiri stayed silent, her hand still resting on Isagi’s hair, letting the weight of the confession settle into the room.
"I think I’m scared," Isagi added, her voice dropping to a near-inaudible tremor.
"I’m scared that if I stop focusing on the field for five minutes, if I actually stop to look at her… I’ll realize that while I was busy trying to become the best in the world, I already lost the only person who actually liked me before I was anyone at all."
Smack.
"Ow!"
Isagi recoiled, her hands flying to her forehead where Chigiri’s palm had just collided with her skin. "What the hell was that for, Hyoma?!"
"For being an idiot," Chigiri said, not even looking sorry.
She shifted her posture, dropping the soft, coddling act entirely for a look of sharp, unimpressed irritation.
"Do you hear yourself? You sound like you’re dissecting a loss after a game. You’re not a 'ghost,' Isagi, you’re just a self-absorbed brat who’s spent too much time in her own head."
Isagi blinked, stunned, her face still stinging. "But—"
"No, shut up and listen," Chigiri cut her off, pointing a finger at her. " I thought you two brats had a fight or something. You think Bachira is some delicate flower you’re starving of attention? Newsflash: Bachira is a soccer freak just like you. Maybe even worse. You think she doesn’t understand? She’s not sitting at home crying because you didn't text her back about your feelings. She’s probably busy obsessing over her own plays or waiting for you to tell her about yours."
Chigiri sighed, her expression softening just a fraction, though her voice remained firm.
"Bachira loves hearing you talk. You know that. Even when you’re rambling about passing lanes or how Rin moved her hips three inches to the left, she drinks it up. She doesn't like talking about herself—you know she hates the heavy stuff—so she lets you take the lead. Most of the time anyways. It’s your dynamic, Isagi. It always has been."
Isagi opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat.
"She doesn't hate you," Chigiri continued, leaning back against the headboard.
"She’s just waiting. She’s used to you being a soccer-obsessed lunatic. That’s the version of you she fell in love with—the Egoist on the field. She isn't mad you're busy, Isagi. She'd probably be more worried if you weren't."
The silence that followed Chigiri’s lecture didn't last long.
Isagi sat up, her eyes wide as the gears turned.
"Change my approach," Isagi muttered, mostly to herself.
She looked at Chigiri, her expression turning uncharacteristically earnest.
"Okay. You're right. I can't just dump all my theories on her. I need to be better. I need to… to actually show interest. Like, I’ll start now. If I’m going to practice, I should start with you, right? Tell me what you’ve been thinking about lately. Like, regarding your speed, or—"
"Go ahead," Chigiri prompted, crossing her arms and settling in to watch.
"Practice your 'not being an egoist' act. Tell me about your feelings, Isagi."
Isagi blinked, cleared her throat, and looked directly at Chigiri.
"Right. Okay. So, regarding the way Bachira’s been playing lately—"
Chigiri’s expression went completely flat.
She didn't smack her this time, but she did let out a long, suffering sigh, dropping her head back against the wall.
Isagi didn't even notice. She was already off to the races, her hands waving excitedly.
"I just think it’s interesting how she’s been shifting her center of gravity when she gets into the final third. A few months ago, she was all about that messy, instinctive dribbling—you know, the kind that felt like she was playing with a person that was invisible—but lately, there’s this specific rhythm to it. It’s like she’s trying to sync up with the field, not just run through it. And the way she looks when she’s about to pull a move? It’s almost like she’s waiting for someone to notice. Do you think she’s trying to show me she doesn't need my passes anymore? Because that would be cool, but also, I kind of want to be the one to—"
She kept going, rambling about Bachira’s footwork, her passing lanes, and how her recent training footage looked "different" in a way that made Isagi’s heart do a weird, fluttering kick against her ribs.
Chigiri just watched her.
She didn't interrupt to tell Isagi that she was supposed to be talking about her, Chigiri, nor did she point out that Isagi had completely forgotten the assignment.
She just let the girl talk, her eyes softening as she watched the way Isagi’s entire face lit up the second Bachira’s name left her lips.
Finally, when Isagi paused to catch her breath, Chigiri leaned forward, her voice quiet.
"You’re overthinking the 'showing off' part, Isagi."
"I am?" Isagi asked, blinking rapidly.
"Yeah. You think she’s trying to prove she doesn't need you? She’s just trying to prove she’s worth looking at," Chigiri said, a small, knowing smirk tugging at her lips.
"She’s not trying to cut you out. She’s trying to stay in your line of sight. Honestly? She was insufferable when you were obsessing over Rin’s movements those first few weeks. She didn't say it out loud, but you could tell. Every time you mentioned her name, she’d try to pull off a move twice as flashy just to get you to look at her instead. Though of course not actually risking you a loss on the feild. "
Isagi froze, her face turning a bright, burning crimson. "She… she was jealous of Rin?"
"Not of Rin," Chigiri corrected, reaching out to flick Isagi’s forehead —harder this time than her last smack.
"She was jealous of your attention. You’re such a dense idiot, it’s a miracle you even learned how to kick a ball.
Now, try again, but this time can you please actually talk about Bachira, and not just about her soccer?"
The room went quiet again, save for the rhythmic tapping of Isagi’s fingers against the mattress.
She wasn't looking at Chigiri anymore.
She was staring at the space where the wall met the ceiling, her eyes unfocused as she tried to peel back the layers of the girl who had been her shadow and her sunshine for so long.
"It’s not just the soccer," Isagi started, her voice losing that frantic, analytical edge and replacing it with something softer, more hesitant.
"I talk about her game because that’s the language we both speak, but... when I actually stop to look? I realize I’ve been reading the cover of the book and assuming I knew the story inside."
She pulled her knees closer, resting her chin on them.
"Everyone else just sees the 'Bachira' who’s always smiling. They see the weird, sunny girl who just gets along with everyone, even the people who seem unapproachable. Like with Rin... honestly, I used to think she was just being annoying, pestering her until she snapped. But then I saw it. She didn't just want to annoy her. She saw that Rin was just… trapped in her own head, just as lonely as anyone else could be. She has this way of looking at people, Hyo—like she’s looking past the scary exterior and seeing the kid underneath."
Isagi sighed, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips.
"But that’s the thing. She sees everyone else so clearly, and she’s so willing to open her arms to them, that I think I’ve been taking for granted that she’s... fragile. Not in a physical way, obviously. She’s tougher than me on the pitch. But she’s so damn carefree that it scares me sometimes. She trusts people instantly. It’s like she never learned how to be guarded."
Isagi shifted, her brow furrowing as she picked at a loose thread on her blanket.
"There’s a part of me that thinks she’s so afraid of being alone again—that 'monster' she used to talk about—that she’d rather be vulnerable and get hurt than close herself off. She’s so incredibly emotionally mature, the way she handles the weight of her own self, but she’s also so naive. It’s like she hasn't realized that the world isn't always as bright as she makes it out to be. And here I am, thinking she’s just 'happy-go-lucky Bachira,' while she’s out there carrying all that history."
Isagi looked back at Chigiri, her expression pained and earnest.
"I think I offended her once, months ago. I said I couldn't imagine her ever being sad or overthinking things. I meant it as a compliment—like, she was so strong and positive—but she looked at me like I’d just insulted her intelligence. And she was right. I was reducing her to a caricature. I’ve been so caught up in my own evolution that I’ve treated her like this constant, unchanging element of my life, when in reality, she’s a person with her own ghosts. I don't think we’ve ever actually... sat down and talked. Not really. Not about the heavy stuff."
She let out a long, shuddering breath, the realization settling heavily in her chest.
"I feel like I know her soul on the field, like I know exactly where she’s going to move before she even thinks it, but I don't know the girl who goes home at night. I don't know if she’s actually okay, or if she’s just performing for me, no, us, because she thinks that’s what we want to see. And if that’s true... if I’ve just been enjoying the performance and never once asked about the actress... then yeah, I’m a terrible friend."
Isagi looked down at her hands, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Chigiri sat quietly for a long time, the silence of the room no longer feeling heavy, but thoughtful.
She watched Isagi, seeing the way the realization had finally stopped the gears from turning so violently and left her with nothing but raw, genuine concern.
"You’re finally starting to look, Isagi,"
Chie2giri said softly, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Isagi’s ear.
"Now, stop thinking about 'how' to be a better friend, and just start by being one. You don't need a strategy for this."
"Just like how you don't need a strategy for Kunigami, right?"
Smack again.
"Hyoooo- Stop!!" Isagi yelped, now clutching her side as she dodged another hit.
"Don't."
Another smack from Chigiri.
"Mention."
Another dodge from the left side.
"MY love life."
Isagi was almost going to scream in triumph before suddenly Chigiri caught her wrist.
Somehow, some way, Chigiri ended up makign Isagi topple out of her bed onto the ground, but not before Isagi tugged her down with her.
Both were breathing heavy before Isagi winced at the weight on top of her.
"Ah.... Fuck, my head hurts," Isagi muttered, her short hair spilling out on the floor.
"That's... What you get, you damn bastard. Don't mention Kunigami and me, ever."
"Noted."
Of course, Isagi did know Kunigami was a sensitive topic, after the poor girl mysteriously left the school, ignored her Chigiri, and Bachira's messages, blocked them, came back, and still keen on ignoring them.
Yeah Isagi did think Kunigami and Chigiri were endgame, still does, but God sometimes she needed to think less about love and more about the fact that Kunigami needs her friends by her side and not just a lover or whatever.
After a few heavy breaths, Chigiri finally got up form where she was was ontop of Isagi, extending a hand out to help Isagi up.
"Y'kow I love you right?"
Startled, Chigiri looked down.
"Where'd that come from?"
Isagi shrugged, taking Chigiri's hand and helping herself up.
"Dunno. Just thought to say it since you my best friend and all."