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There’s a framed picture of two happy kids on the table. Identical, seemingly. Or, at the very least close in age. Their eyes are wide open, white teeth on full display as they grin directly at Bunny.
Their happiness is blinding.
It makes Bunny’s stomach lurch.
His therapist notices his stare and smiles. Apparently they are 13 now. Their dad lives overseas. She and her husband are divorced. Co-parenting can get tough, but they make it work.
Bunny would rather be anywhere else.
Yet, he remains where he is, hands folded in his lap, pressed tightly between his thighs, while a practiced smile stays stuck on his face as he nods and hums at appropriate intervals.
“You just need to find your people, Bunny.” The therapist reassures him. “In this day and age, it’s normal to feel down. We all do sometimes.”
He wonders what that means. ‘His people’. As if it’s somehow other people's duty to ‘fix him’.
“With all due respect Miss Gonzales, I doubt that is gonna help anything.”
“And why do you feel that way?” She looks up from the tablet on which she has been taking notes.
“If I did find someone like me, it would only make me want to die even more.”
-0-
He gets prescribed more pills in neat little blister packs and white plastic bottles.
He stashes them all under his bathroom sink.
Some are probably expired already.
Bunny has never bothered to check.
He tells himself that he’ll start taking them some day.
But for now, he just goes to bed early.
-0-
Soccer is something that puts food on the table.
Bunny wouldn’t say he enjoys it. It’s a reflexive sort of thing. An activity that manages to occupy his mind for a few hours everyday, so he doesn’t have to confront whatever else nestles and broods in the innermost corners of his mind.
His trainer says he has talent unlike anything he has ever seen.
His teammates look him over, whispering under their breaths.
None of it really matters.
-0-
A new player joins the team during the summer months. Apparently, he’s a prodigy from overseas. It’s nothing new, these sudden additions to the team. People come and go, but only a select few get to stay.
Bunny absent mindedly notes that he’s tall for an Asian, with eyes the color of sea foam.
His smiles are brief fleeting things.
Bunny gives him 6 months tops.
-0-
It takes less than 6 months for the smiles to cease seemingly completely, but he’s still playing on the team - Bunny will give him that much.
Their trainer puts them into a dual-striker composition, but it causes more friction than necessary.
Sae Itoshi, Bunny has learnt, is a prideful sort of creature.
He’ll pass when absolutely necessary, but most of the time, he’ll seek out his own glory, leading to missed shots that seem to put deeper and deeper cracks into his composure.
Bunny doesn’t understand the desperation.
Sae is good. Talented even. So, why does he insist on making life more difficult for himself?
Sae will talk animatedly in English about being a striker to their trainer. About scoring his own goals. About how this isn’t ‘Japan’ and how him being compared to the past isn’t how he wants to play.
Bunny still doesn’t get it.
How Sae Itoshi is a prodigy known alongside his brother. How the two did in fact play a dual-striker composition back home in Japan, but how it was more of a formality. In actuality, Rin Itoshi, the little brother, was the one to score more goals, mostly due to Sae’s innate ability to find the optimal spots to pass to.
None of it matters to Bunny at first.
He just wants to close his eyes and be done with it all.
-0-
Sae always eats alone during lunch.
They all live in communal spaces close to the training field, so it’s hard for Bunny not to notice the quirk when everyone else eats with the team. Himself included. He just does whatever will lead to the least amount of attention.
His teammates call Sae ‘The Japanese princess’ in Spanish, assuming the other won’t understand. Or, maybe they hope he will, just to get a rise out of him.
“He thinks he’s too good for us.” Alejandro laughs. He’s one of the defenders, so Bunny doesn’t really engage much with him on the pitch. “All that attitude when he can barely keep up with us? What a fucking joke.”
Everyone else is eating lunch directly on the pitch, knees stained green, and faces warmed by the sun.
Sae, on the other hand, is sitting by himself under a small roof section, used primarily for spectators.
It looks nice.
Peaceful even.
Suddenly Bunny is getting up, bringing his sandwich with him, as he approaches the other.
He sits down on the bench next to him, without saying a word. He starts to eat, while Sae’s scrutinising stare looks him over.
They end up eating together in silence.
-0-
“How are you feeling lately?”
“Numb.”
“What about the new dose? Is it helping with the intrusive thoughts?”
“I haven’t had any lately. Just feel tired.”
“Too tired to play? You told me your trainer thinks you’re right on the cusp of going pro? We could adjust the dose if needed.”
“Not too tired to play, thank you Miss Gonzales.”
“So, same time next week?”
Bunny still wants to die.
-0-
“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”
Bunny blinks rapidly at the sound of Sae’s voice.
Bunny didn’t actually keep count, but it had already been more than a few weeks of them silently eating their lunch together and yet, it was the first time Sae had actually spoken to him. In Spanish, no less.
Bunny chuckles. “I didn’t know you could speak Spanish.” On the pitch, they didn’t converse much. At most, Sae would command him around with short efficient words such as ‘forward’ or ‘faster’. So the full sentence was a surprise. The rest of the team would probably be equally surprised learning that the Japanese prodigy could understand their trash talk just fine.
“That’s beside the point.” Sae fixes him with his gaze.
Bunny puts on a smile. “I’m trying to prove myself just like you are.” But, clearly, Sae isn’t buying his excuse for an answer, because his gaze remains still. Bunny isn’t sure he likes how heavy it feels. Sae was intense enough on the field, but outside of it, the pressure was even worse.
“You looked lonely.” Bunny settles on finally, since it rings a little more true.
“I think you’re projecting.”
Bunny doesn’t linger on that idea. Is afraid what he’ll find out about himself if he does.
“You’re here all on your own, away from home - I think anyone would end up feeling a little lonely.”
Sae makes a small movement with his shoulder. A shrug, Bunny realises.
“Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I’m necessarily lonely.”
-0-
“There’s this new player on my team.”
“Okay? Tell me about them.”
“He’s from overseas. Doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s sort of hard to get to know.”
“But you want to get to know him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? We’re having lunch together everyday but we barely talk. I feel like we should talk more?”
“You could tell him something about yourself?”
-0-
“Sometimes, I wish I’d break my leg.”
Sae doesn’t even look up from his food.
“That’s stupid.”
“Why?”
"Because then you'd have a broken leg.” A short pause. “And you wouldn’t be able to play."
Bunny’s eyes go down, to the pitch, the green of the grass.
“That’s sort of the point.”
Sae’s fork jabs down to spear into a piece of chicken. The movement is sharp. If Bunny didn’t know any better, he would think Sae was angry.
“That’s even stupidier. If you wanted to quit, you could. You may be talented, but no one is pointing a gun to your head, forcing you to be here.”
That actually sounds nice.
The thought lingers longer than it should.
-0-
Bunny is alone again.
It’s a cloudy day, with the threat of rain looming over the pitch.
The rest of the team is eating in the cafeteria, yet Bunny finds himself with his lunch, sitting under the spectator roof.
Like he always does.
Like they always do.
Bunny should have known already from the trainer's announcement that morning - that Sae would miss the first half of the day for a physical.
And yet, he still finds himself sitting in the same spot. Following the same routines. Leaving room on the bench to his right.
Rain starts to patter against the overhead roof, just as Bunny finds himself staring at the empty spot next to him.
-0-
They often looked out over the pitch together. Mostly quiet. Sometimes, exchanging a word or two.
But now, it was hard not to notice that something was amiss in their usual routine.
“Did you get a different lunch today?”
Bunny sees the chicken. The broccoli and green beans. But, there’s no rice.
Sae would always eat his rice first; Bunny remembered because his expression would soften with every mouthful.
“It’s the same lunch I always get.”
Bunny looks down into Sae’s square black plastic container. Half of it is empty already, and Sae had just sat down next to him too.
“It’s different.” Bunny insists.
“It’s really not.”
Bunny is perplexed by the insistence. “So, you’re just not eating rice anymore?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sae keeps eating, pushing food into his mouth, without meeting his gaze.
“Did the cafeteria run out early? If you want, I could -”
“Stop watching what I eat!”
Sae’s up, moving across the field with his half-finished lunch still in hand. On the way out, he dumps what is left in the trash.
When Bunny leaves later, he glances into the mouth of the bin.
Mixed in at the bottom, are clumps of rice.
-0-
Weeks go by. Sae doesn’t join him for lunch. Instead, he goes somewhere far away where Bunny isn’t invited.
On the pitch, the tension is almost palpable between them. Sae will bark orders like always, but his eyes stay on the ball, sometimes his feet, but never Bunny’s face.
He’s improving at a rapid pace.
Sae’s movements are sharper, his running faster, passes pin-point accurate to a degree that even Bunny, the team’s star player, finds the accuracy almost unnervingly perfect.
Once the whistle rings out though, signalling the end of training, Sae will double over with both hands on his knees.
Sweat drips off him, his breathing hard and ragged as he brings the lip of his water bottle up to his mouth.
Bunny watches the quick rise and fall of Sae’s chest and feels his own chest tighten in response.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” The words are out of Bunny’s mouth before he can stop them.
Sae’s eyes are finally back on him.
“And?”
His shoulders fall, the quiet between them prolonged. In the end, Sae is the one to break the silence.
“You don’t even want to be here, so what does it matter to you what I do?”
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Forget it.”
Sae turns to leave.
Again.
-0-
“My presence seems to upset him.”
“Your lunch friend?”
“Yea, he’s not really my lunch friend anymore though -”
“So you fought?”
“I guess.”
“Fighting isn’t necessarily bad, Bunny. Sometimes, fighting is necessary to clear the air between friends.”
“I don’t think he considers me a friend.”
“Do you consider him a friend?”
Bunny doesn’t know.
-0-
It’s their first big match overseas and they lose. 2 to 1.
Bunny knows that the loss should feel objectively bad, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He feels detached from it all. Like his head is submerged in water and he’s slowly drowning.
Their trainer pulls him aside.
When he calls for Sae to join them , Bunny knows what’s about to happen.
“You two were the reason why we didn’t win today.”
Sae is quick to interject.
“Bullshit! Without the two of us, we wouldn’t even have scored 1 goal!”
“That’s true.” Arms crossed over his chest. “But, you two are also the reason why we didn’t score 3 goals.”
A huff. Dangerously close to a laugh rolls over Sae’s lips. “If Bunny had actually gotten into position for my passes, we would have easily scored 5 goals.”
Bunny stays quiet, because there’s more to it. But, he doesn’t have the energy to argue.
“Fix it.” Comes the curt command from their trainer. “Or you’re both being demoted to 2nd string.”
-0-
The light from the laptop screen illuminates Sae’s face.
“Here!” Sae pauses the video, then rewinds. “I pass here, their defenders are busy manning Marco here, so what are you doing all the way over there?”
Sae’s finger is pointing aggressively at the screen. At the ball, then Bunny’s pixelated body, then back to his desired position on the field. “It would have been a free goal.”
Bunny tries to think back to that exact moment.
“From where I was, I could have shot as well.”
Bunny leans in to press play on the video and they both watch as the Sae in the video passes, but the ball falls short of reaching Bunny’s position.
“Their centre-back is on the shorter side-” Bunny further explains. “If you had put the pass up high, I could have volleyed it.”
But, they hadn’t been on the same page.
They watch another 30 minutes or so of footage, until they get to another goal attempt.
Sae is leaning his jaw into the ball of his hand, as he observes the screen with rapt attention.
“What would you have done here?” he asks, words quiet.
“I wouldn’t have shot it at an angle. I was waiting for you to pass it directly, so I could shoot between their number 3 and 5.”
“That would be risky. My play would have been more likely to succeed.”
“I could pull it off.”
Sae turns his attention from the screen and looks at him.
Then, a small smile curls its way onto his lips.
It feels like winning.
“Maybe you could.”
-0-
“Where would you have run?”
Sae is pointing to the laptop screen, while hovering over his shoulder. The heat radiated from his body is an unfamiliar sensation.
“Here, then here.”
They should have ended their review hours ago.
Somehow, Bunny doesn’t mind.
-0-
It’s getting warmer again, but the air conditioning inside of the cafeteria makes the heat bearable.
“You fall on your face here.” Sae makes a small sound. A laugh, Bunny realises.
And just like that, the Bunny on the screen jumps, shooting the ball straight into the right top corner of the goal - followed by him eating a mouthful of grass, once falling back onto the ground .
“It worked.” Bunny says in his own defence.
“Yes, but you overcomplicated it. You didn’t have to volley. You were free and could have waited for the pass to land instead.”
With every passing review, Bunny understands a little better why they kept missing each other
-0-
Sometimes, Bunny will catch their trainer passing by the cafeteria.
Sae never notices. His eyes are always glued to the laptop screen, too deeply engrossed in every little detail.
Their trainer will smile, give him a thumbs up, then leave again.
Bunny wonders what he thinks.
Maybe he knows something Bunny doesn't.
-0-
Their first proper match is hard earned.
Their opponents are tougher than anything they have faced before; well-coordinated and with a tight defence.
They give away 1 goal early.
Then, it’s as if something clicks.
Bunny looks back, meeting Sae’s gaze.
The ball resets, and it’s magical from there.
Sae intercepts the ball when their opponent places a pass too low. He dribbles up, before landing one beautiful pass right at Bunny’s feet.
Bunny finishes it. Driving the ball home, scoring and tying them.
It’s back and forth from there. But Bunny just knows from somewhere deep within that Sae will gain possession of the ball again and when he does, Bunny will be ready.
The moment happens and they score 1 more goal, then another in quick succession.
It still doesn’t feel like enough.
There’s a fire in him and Sae is the match.
Sae doesn’t bark commands at him anymore. He doesn’t have to. They’re in sync.
When Sae can’t quite place the ball where it needs to be, the opposing team manning him two to one, Bunny makes up for it. Taking possession of a short pass in mid-air, before re-adjusting and scoring the final goal of the match.
They win 4 to 1.
The whistle cuts through the air.
Bunny turns around, looking for Sae.
He’s already there. Staring back.
Before Bunny realises it, his hand is already moving up.
Sae looks at it.
Then, their hands meet.
The contact only lasts for a second but Bunny feels on top of the world.
-0-
Training becomes easier.
Their team celebrates, but it’s hard not to notice the attention the two of them have drawn. He and Sae were the obvious playmakers of the match. Their team’s star players.
A few crude comments are thrown around. How they ‘should get married already’.
Bunny tells himself he doesn’t care. He just puts on a smile, something to placate, before he sits down to eat his lunch.
He closes his eyes and leans back. Feels the wind on his face, and the comfortable shade provided by the spectator roof.
Footsteps approach.
Something bumps against his shoulder, followed by a light thud as a familiar weight settles next to him.
“Our right-wing attack. The timing is off.”
Bunny smiles without opening his eyes. “Really? Maybe I felt like slacking off today.”
-0-
Even though they’re back to winning their matches, the review sessions become a part of their weekly routine.
It feels good. The structure; the knowing what to do and what to expect.
It feels even better, showing up in the cafeteria long past lunch hours, to find Sae already waiting for him.
-0-
Bunny picks out one of the blister packs from the front of the cabinet.
‘3 tablets a day with a glass of water.’
The stark white of the tablets stare back at him. His doctor’s note is put on a sticker on the front, the jumbled letters small and strung so tightly together that it makes Bunny’s eyes strain to read them.
He can already feel his palms heat up, his breathing quickening.
He tries to ignore it.
Pops out three tablets and immediately considers flushing them down the drain.
Bunny reminds himself why he is doing this and brings them up to his mouth anyway.
He swallows.
-0-
“You’re staring.”
Bunny blinks heavily to snap out of his stupor. He runs a hand over his face, while Sae’s eyes stay on him.
They’re under the spectator roof. Lunches resting in both of their laps.
“My last physical. It was no good.”
Bunny regains his senses then, perking up.
“You were staring at my lunch again.” Sae explains, because Bunny must have looked confused. And he was. But slowly, things start to make sense, even before Sae goes on.
“It’s just rice.”
Bunny looks down at his own lunch. A pretty hefty sandwich, loaded with cheese and ham and various vegetables.
It doesn’t sit well with him.
“But you like rice.” Bunny mumbles under his breath.
He remembers the first few weeks they ate lunch together. How Sae would always eat his rice first, making sure to pick up every single grain as if it was the best part of his lunch.
“I also like ice cream, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cut out a few things if it’ll make me perform better.”
Bunny shakes his head. “But you’re already plenty good. You made the first string-”
“The adjustment was made before our latest win.”
And why does that admission make something warm unfurl in Bunny’s chest?
Not ‘mine’. But ‘our’. Bunny feels as if Sae isn’t even talking about the team, but something smaller. Much more intimate.
“Maybe Coach will come around on the next physical. Either way, I’ll be fine.”
Bunny doesn’t just want Sae to be ‘fine’.
-0-
Bunny only intends to close his eyes for a bit. Then, he only intends to drift off for a brief moment. But before he knows it, his mind has wandered off into deep sweet oblivion, and he’s left snoring lightly, body slung over his laptop in the cafeteria.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed, when he feels a nudge to his shoulder.
He sits up with a jerk, eyes blinking rapidly.
“I’m up!” Bunny exclaims.
“I can see that.” Sae sits down next to him, leaning back in his seat, teal eyes weighing down on him.
“You’re tired a lot lately - are you not sleeping properly?”
Bunny smiles sheepishly. It’s an ambivalent feeling, having Sae’s attention on him. Especially considering the topic. A topic, Bunny would hate with a passion, were Sae anyone else.
“I go to bed the moment training is over.”
“So, at 7?” Sae’s eyebrow almost goes all the way up into his hairline.
“Yea?” Bunny chuckles, hand coming up to rub awkwardly at the back of his head. “I guess that might be a little strange?”
Sae’s quiet, his narrowed gaze giving away that he knows there is more to it.
Because of course he does.
Bunny feels compelled to say something. So, he says what feels like the truth. Even if it deep down makes him anxious.
“Some days, I wish I could just stay asleep and never wake up.”
To Sae’s credit, he doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he seems to take the words in, to work them over quietly in his head like a puzzle piece ultimately making out a bigger picture.
“Are you talking to someone about this?” Sae asks finally.
And because it makes his chest feel a little lighter, Bunny puts on a smile and says:
“I am talking to you right now.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Then, quietly.
“I am.” Bunny keeps smiling. “Don’t worry.”
-0-
It’s one of the rougher days and one of those mornings where Bunny sleeps through 5 alarms.
He’s just so tired. It’s not even his body so much, as it is his head desiring to stay asleep. Enveloped by oblivion. Comfortably unaware of the world around him.
Bunny doesn’t know what time it is, when he registers the door to his room click open.
Did he lock the door last night? Bunny doesn’t remember. Now, sunlight is filtering through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow. Bunny can feel it on his face. Warm and insistent.
He doesn’t open his eyes though. It’s too much.
A bit of rustling follows, then a light thud as something is set on the floor next to his bed.
“It’s 11 AM.”
Bunny finds himself smiling. Not because he wants to, but because the sound of Sae’s voice seems to instinctively pull that reaction out of him.
“So it is.”
A beat of silence. Then two.
“Guess I didn’t hear my alarm today.”
Bunny realises it was already several hours past the start of training.
“You shouldn’t waste your lunchbreak by being here.”
More light rustling, then a weight makes the bed dip. Bunny slowly opens one eye, to peer over at Sae, now seated on his bed, with a black plastic container resting in his lap.
“I’m not wasting anything.”
And Sae starts to eat.
-0-
They have a rare day off.
The weather is mild, the team having scattered to indulge in their usual vices, which often seemed to include alcohol, women or just lounging around wasting the hours away.
Bunny considers the third option.
The pull of his bed is still there, but something feels amiss.
He goes outside, checks the training field, the cafeteria, then the dorms.
Empty.
Then it comes to him. It’s strange how he just knows.
He boards the next bus, gaze vacant as the scenery passes by.
Once he’s back outside again, the smell of salt water fills his nose. He can’t remember the last time he had gone to the ocean himself or if there ever had been a time at all.
He walks up the promenade.
When he spots him, seated on a railing outlooking the ocean, Bunny feels his chest ease, shoulders lowering.
“How did you know I would be here?”
Sae’s eyes are on him; the color matching that of the vast landscape behind him.
“You told me.”
It was during one of their review sessions. The topic coming up in passing, threaded into talks about attack formations. ‘I used to go to the ocean whenever I had the chance’.
Sae makes a small sound. A snort.
“That was months ago.”
“It seemed important.”
Sae shakes his head and turns back towards the vast blue waves.
The sound of the water, continuously coming in and receding, are in Bunny’s ears. The wind whips against his face as he crosses the distance to walk up to sit down beside him.
“In Japan, the ocean is always close by.” Sae says unprompted. “So it’s easy to imagine everyone else back at home right now.”
Bunny doesn’t say anything.
Sae is watching the horizon, while Bunny watches Sae.
“Do you miss them?” Bunny finally asks.
“Of course I do.”
And Sae turns back towards him. Their eyes meet.
The distance between them feels impossibly small.
Bunny doesn’t know if he leans in first or if Sae does. Suddenly, they just are.
Their lips come together.
Bunny realises there is nowhere else in the entire world he would rather be.