Chapter Text
He was a sight against the picturesque scenery. Amidst snow covered sidewalks, empty streets lined with old establishments, and distant silhouette of vast mountain ranges.
Raspberry colored hair tumbled softly around lithe but strong shoulders, and beautiful, vivid pink eyes the color of roses at spring. Lashes so long they easily catch the tinniest speck of snow falling from the silver skies.
Winters in Akita has a tendency to be harsh especially during the first months of the year, the locals were used to it, of course. But from the way Chigiri Hyoma navigated and walked through the snowy streets, so at ease, blending in naturally, it was hard to imagine that Chigiri only recently moved in the area and transferred schools.
Kunigami Rensuke didn’t realize he was staring. Far too intently for his own good.
“Kunigami? Is something on my face?”
He felt his cheeks grow a little hot for some unknown reason, and he turned his gaze ahead, pointing as the store they’ve been looking for came into view. “Uh, nothing. Look, there it is.”
“Hmm. . . you don’t have to treat me.”
“It’s fine. I caused you trouble.”
Chigiri took out his newly repaired phone. The screen no longer cracked and chipped, “Not really. It worked fine even after falling from a flight of stairs. And the repair only took half an hour.”
It had been entirely, Rensuke’s fault.
Him and Chigiri, they were in different classes, (probably) different clubs, so there was not a reason for them to actually meet, or approach each other, but then, one day, as Rensuke was briskly walking down the corridors, brows knit together from frustration, mind occupied by the recent practice match in his club, Rensuke collided with Chigiri as he turned the corner. And Chigiri’s phone bore the brunt of the impact, slipping from its owner’s fingers.
Chigiri had stared at him with tightly furrowed brows, those pretty eyes deeply displeased, lips frowning in ire.
The expression was enough for Rensuke to forgot all about his own anger.
Rensuke immediately apologized, bowing low and, swore to pay for damages. And so the same day after class, they met up by the gates and went to have Chigiri’s phone repaired in town.
Chigiri does not talk a lot, does not ask a multitude of sudden questions. At first he found it a little awkward, the silence, as they waited for the phone to be repaired, but now Rensuke is at ease. He’s often surrounded by rowdy fellow soccer players, muscle jocks who laugh and speak too loudly. But Rensuke likes being with them, they’re his friends, but Chigiri’s unexpectedly calming presence seemed to be giving his mind some clarity, space to slowly untangle his thoughts, like it’s the one thing he needed at the moment. Especially after what happened in that practice match.
As soon as they got to the store, Chigiri ordered bean paste buns for himself almost immediately, as if he wasn’t telling Rensuke minutes ago that it’s okay not to treat him. They sat on the bench placed outside the store, shoulder to shoulder as it was a little too small. Or maybe Rensuke was just too big. . .
“Thanks for this.” Chigiri said, already taking a second bite.
“Uh, yeah, you’re welcome.” Maybe it’s his favorite?
Chigiri glanced at him, deliberate, “But is this alright? What about soccer practice? You mentioned earlier you’re a club member.”
“Well. . . I’m suspended.” Kunigami sheepishly admitted, “I, uh, nearly threw hands with a player on the opposing team we’re having a practice match with.”
“Nearly?”
“Yeah. It didn’t really escalate to a full blown fight but the coach was disappointed at my actions. He gave me a week to cool my head. . .”
“You don’t look like the hot-blooded type.”
This time, it was Rensuke who glanced over at Chigiri who seemed to be enjoying the food quite well. He suddenly remembers the first time he saw the redhead, where his eyes kind of glimmered, and the first thing that popped in his brain was the word “pretty”.
On Chigiri’s first days in campus, he made a small commotion, catching the attention of many girls because of his androgynous features. Subtly and not, they stared at him from a distance out of curiosity, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the classroom, in libraries, garden, physical education classes. . . even in the school cafeteria, he stood out, turning heads here and there. However, Chigiri seemed unfazed, as if he was used to having eyes on him.
But now, the excessive attention and everything finally died down.
Rensuke was thankful it did not drag too long. He’s been putting off trying to strike a conversation with Chigiri, not wanting to be a part of the background nuisances. His intentions though, was not anything like theirs.
During his weekend road work, he saw Chigiri alone in a children’s park where the small soccer court Rensuke used to play at stands. Chigiri was kicking a ball around, running, and deftly dribbling it around his feet. And from the way he moved, smooth and sure, it was clear to Rensuke that Chigiri isn’t a novice. In fact, might be an actual player.
From then on, Rensuke had watched Chigiri even closely, not just because he thought of him ‘pretty’, wondering the right time he could walk up and invite the redhead to join the soccer club.
Now, his chance has come, in an unlikely way.
“Uhm, Chigiri. . .” A hand over his nape, Kunigami just posed the question, “Have you tried considering changing clubs?”
There was a weird pause, very briefly that Rensuke thought he imagined it.
“I don’t have a club.”
Oh. “Then, would you consider the soccer club?”
“. . . why? Do I look like I play soccer to you?” Chigiri softly asked, taking another bite.
Rensuke turned to him, the meat bun in his own hand still untouched, “Well, I saw you on the kids’ playground one time during my road work. I thought the way you handle the ball was way beyond what a beginner could do.”
Chigiri sighed, whatever face he was making, it was hidden by the layer of crimson hair framing the side of his face, “You wouldn’t want me on your team.”
“So you do play?!” Rensuke seemed delighted about his hunch being true.
“Back in middle school.” Another soft answer, an unchanging tone, “But I had an injury, went under the knife, and now I can’t play how I used to.”
His delight lasted but two seconds, Rensuke immediately regretting his reaction. He felt like he stepped on a landmine, and was plain lucky it did not explode. “Oh shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to– you know, uhm. . .”
“It’s okay.” Chigiri says, finally looking his way, “I’m not that sensitive about it. At least not that much anymore.”
Seeing Chigiri’s face, with that faint smile, Rensuke relaxes back on his seat, thinking: how pretty.
“What?”
“Huh? Did I say something?”
Now frowning, Chigiri crumples the wrapping paper, having finished his food. “Drink. . .”
“Ah, wait–” Rensuke stands up, finishing the meat bun in two large bites. He then bought them warm tea in disposable paper cups, handing one to Hyoma, mouth still stuffed.
“Thanks.”
“So, uhm, if it’s alright to ask, how are you coping?”
Chigiri sipped his drink, watching the steam float above, “Good. I’m at the acceptance stage– I think. I thought it’d be easier to do that if I don’t ever touch a ball again, avoid watching soccer games. I don't know but. . . somehow, going back into it, slowly turning the sport into a hobby kind of helped.”
“I guess you love soccer too much to give up on it.”
“Yeah, I think so. . .”
“Me too, it would seem.”
“Why? Don’t tell me you had an injury too?”
“No, it’s more of– I don’t think I’m doing well at all. Or that I’m enough.” Rensuke found himself admitting. He would’ve stopped there, felt like it would be too much to say to someone he only just spent time with today, but then he noticed Chigiri curiously waiting for him to elaborate, and so despite his hesitation, Rensuke continued, “In middle school, I was the team’s ace, I stood out, both in skills and physique, but here. . . it was one hard slap after another– everyone’s really good. It made me realize how stupid I’d been. I thought I was special.”
Chigiri fixes his scarf up, the cup of tea in his hand now empty, “Is that your way of comforting me?”
“Huh? No, I– you shared something. . . heavy, so I thought I’d do the same. To be fair.”
“I don’t really keep that a secret.” Chigiri says, “But I don’t go around saying it to everyone either. So, you really didn’t have to.”
“Sorry. . . it’s just, right now I’m questioning if I’m enough. My confidence is plummeting badly.”
He had not told anyone about his current dilemma, of how he feels, not even the teammates, or friends he trust. Maybe that was why his self frustration was on the brink of explosion, was transforming into aggression. And he’d been good in keeping himself in control since middle school. Rensuke was aware he did not have to respond to the provocation of the opposite team’s striker. That was why he was actually the one who asked their coach to suspend him for a week, thought it to be a fair punishment. But his coach told him to use the ‘suspension’ to think and cool his head.
“Don’t be sorry. I think admitting it loudly to yourself, and to someone else, is a good step.” Chigiri replied, fiddling with the empty cup, “I couldn’t do that. . .”
“. . . does it still hurt?”
“What? That my dream of going pro like you is nothing but ashes now?”
Rensuke’s back shot up straight, nearly spilling his drink, “No! I– I mean your injury! Geez!”
While he’s afraid he might have hit a nerve, still gauging his ‘pretty’ companion, Chigiri seemed to enjoy Rensuke’s flustered reaction, there was a subtle laughter within his pink eyes though his rosy lips remain neutral. The redhead was messing with Rensuke.
Realizing it in the next seconds, Rensuke sinks back into the seat with a sigh, blindly watching the snow softly fall, “You’re quite. . . not what I expected.”
He already had a mental image of how Chigiri would be like, because there are times when Rensuke would spend breaks in the other’s class, chatting with a fellow soccer teammate. The redhead was always alone, content on just reading a book on his desk whenever Rensuke steals a glance. Despite the seemingly unfriendly demeanor though, no one in Chigiri’s class actually dislikes him, just thought him a good-looking, but sort-of weird, quiet nerd who loved reading novels. Chigiri participates well in classes, and when group projects are involved, he was reliable and actively does his part as a member.
But their overall description is that Chigiri is as cold as Akita’s winters, aloof, and silent.
Rensuke, on the other hand, now think that it’s just a small part of who Chigiri truly is. It nagged at Rensuke’s curiosity, stirring something inside him.
“Oh? What were you expecting?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know– an icy, selfish, haughty princess attitude?”
“Princess?” Chigiri repeated pointedly, sort of bewildered, “I mean, I can be selfish and haughty at times, but, a princess?”
“You are very pretty, you know.”
Chigiri didn’t answer.
Only when the silence dragged on longer than it supposed to that Rensuke realized his words must have been misleading, or that Chigiri has taken it as a blatant insult. Shit. He’s still a guy. I didn’t mean it to sound like–
Chigiri stands up suddenly, and Rensuke fumbled, exclaiming, “S– sorry that I offended you! I didn’t know. You must have insecurities about your feminine features–”
To his surprise, Chigiri flicks his red hair, “Of course not. I know I look good. I love my face just the way it is.”
He pauses, “Uh, then, you’re not mad?”
Chigiri does not turn, just went and walked ahead, “It’s late, we should head back, hero.”
Somehow, Chigiri calling him hero sounded. . . good. A different kind of ‘good’ than when it’s his friends and teammates who’d call him in that nickname. But he no longer thought anything else about it at the moment.
Quickly catching up, Rensuke falls into step beside the ‘princess’. They no longer mentioned each other’s predicament and insecurities as players, they instead spoke about their favorite soccer player, favorite world cup matches, talked about school-related stuff like the trouble of taking notes when the teacher speaks too damn fast, their least liked subjects, and how heavenly good the school canteen’s– sold only once a week– pork cutlet sandwiches are. At some point, when they were at the bus stop and nearly parting ways as Rensuke takes the opposite ride home, Chigiri mentioned about his routine on going for a run everyday after school.
The street lights were still green, and the snow had partially stopped falling. Rensuke thought about this little encounter, wondering if it meant something. Once he crossed the street, will they go back to being strangers at school? Or will this be simple acquaintanceship? That maybe could grow into friendship that can last more than a season? He has no idea, but what Rensuke do know is that this is a chance to find out. So he held onto the tiny thread of possibilities, trusting fate to take him gently to an answer, and went with his gut.
Rensuke turned to the ‘princess’ and asked, hoping for a positive response, “Chigiri, mind if I join you in your roadwork after school? Just for the week, till my suspension’s over?”
Chigiri casted him a quick glance, the lights now blinking yellow, “Sure. If you buy me bean paste buns as recompense.”
Rensuke found himself smiling. Maybe, a little too wide. “Sure.”
The next day, Rensuke went to meet up with Chigiri for some running across the neighborhood. He mostly take uphill routes, but this was not his roadwork, what he intend to do is match Chigiri’s pace, get himself more exercise. . . and maybe get to know more about the princess.
Who arrived fifteen minutes late, saying his tracksuit’s zipper busted and his hair took a while to behave. Chigiri normally wears all his silky red hair down at school, but for the afternoon, a part of the left side is styled into a braid, while still leaving a few strands to frame his face.
Rensuke likes it.
They quietly began to do some stretching, wishing that the snow won’t fall any time soon.
“Is this your usual route?” Rensuke asked, eyeing the road ahead.
“I have three more, but this is my favorite because it passes longer along the fields. The view is very. . . freeing.”
“You should try to do some star-gazing along those paths then.”
Chigiri looks up from bending his legs and began to jog in place, “Maybe when it’s no longer snowing like crazy. The snow’s been really thick these days, we don’t get this much in my hometown. It’s like a disaster.”
“But this is still considered normal.”
“Yeah, I know. Are you done warming up? Let’s go.”
“Oh, okay.”
“You better keep up with me, hero.”
Puzzled by the words, Rensuke went and followed Chigiri away. Their pace was relatively slow, but then it was picking up speed. Subtle but sure. The interval on which they’d pause was becoming shorter too. Rensuke does not say anything, simply going on, eyes on the crimson hair ahead lightly whipping against the wind, the color reminding him of red maple leaves rustling gently in autumn, of ripe raspberries, and of pink-red flowers glowing bright under the sun.
Pretty, he thought.
Just as they stopped to partly catch their breath, Chigiri glanced his way, and Rensuke held those pink gaze before Chigiri looks back upfront, let out a deep, long breath. Then he bent his body lightly, and sprinted. Fast.
What the–
Not bothering to think, or waste another second, a puzzled Rensuke sprinted after Chigiri, and realized what that pointed glance was for before the ‘princess’ left him in the dust. In that simple look, was a silent challenge, Chigiri, without a doubt, daring him to keep up.
A wild, toothy grin spreads across his face and his body trembled, not from the cold, but from sheer excitement.
Rensuke reached the final stop, saw Chigiri panting hard on the side, face flushed, breath misting thick in the cool air. Then there were his pink eyes, a certain sheen in them, as if the speedy running lit up a long extinguished flame within him.
“Why?!” Rensuke exhales, breathing heavily beside Chigiri, hands braced on his knees, “Why were you– so fast?! And hiding it?!”
“I told you to keep up, didn’t I? You lost!” An obviously exhausted, but oh-so-feral smile that Rensuke found absolutely gorgeous.
It was then he knew he had managed to see another hidden layer of the pretty princess by his side. Always so quiet and seemingly cold, never had Rensuke thought Chigiri can make such an expression.
Chigiri coughed, wheezing, looking more exhausted and out of gas than Rensuke.
“Hey, you alright?”
“Fine. Just– haven’t sprinted like that in ages.” Chigiri admits, coughing a bit more. “Damn, I think I’m about to get a leg cramp– ow.”
“Eh? Why would you do that now of all times?”
“You’ve already been taken down a peg or two by your ‘really good’ teammates,” Chigiri reasons out dryly, still heaving, “So I figured it wouldn’t hurt should I sneak in a kick of my own.”
A petty, childish reason. Rensuke laughed. An old, familiar sensation, loud and childish. He couldn’t remember if he ever laughed this hard since his self-esteem begin to spiral, doubting his skills as a soccer player.
They spent the next afternoon with another ‘race’, with Rensuke losing again, though it was Chigiri who struggled with a mild, leg cramp after. But this time, they did not just went for a leisure jog after racing, they spent most of their time gazing at the gorgeous outline of the distant snow-capped mountains, rice fields, drinking in the serenity of the shrines they passed by, and tarrying longer than intended on the edge of a nearby woods even though it was getting dark, gambling to catch a glimpse of any wild animals nearby.
Their route had Rensuke rediscovering the simple beauty of his hometown. He’s always been proud of his place of birth. But it seems that lately, he has somehow stopped slowing down to appreciate the surroundings. His vision too far ahead that it dimmed his mind. Too desperate to shape up, chasing a dream he thought was beginning to elude him so early.
Rensuke is not really someone who easily gives up, but perhaps he was panicking a little. He did not plan on spending his ‘suspension’ this way, but maybe it was destiny that he collided with Chigiri in the hallways. Because this was seemingly what he needed at the moment. To temporarily let go, and reevaluate the harsh training regimens he put himself into, take things slowly, look around, and breathe.
As the succeeding days passed, the suffocating tension and heaviness he felt for many weeks was dissolving like ice. Chigiri’s presence, he cannot deny, was warm, grounding, a safe haven that has a hidden, playful barb to it. But it nonetheless eased more of the knot, banishing away the gray clouds that had obscured Rensuke’s mind and heart. Rensuke knew he wouldn’t be able to do so much about it in a short span of time on his own, he knew the ‘princess’ definitely helped, even if Chigiri doesn’t know it.
“We should head back too.”
They’re currently still in the playground, sitting side by side on the swings, the kids who had pestered Chigiri and Rensuke to teach them soccer had gone home minutes ago. Playing with the rascals had reminded the two how they used to be, back when they were little kids themselves– no pressure, no problems, no weights. Just the simple joy of playing soccer, uncaring of bruises and fall and messing up. It was nice to reminisce those innocent days in the sun where it was easier to dream, to make promises, make friends, for it was impossible to be that way anymore. They’re now entering a treacherous path in fulfilling their dreams, as teenagers, and a few years more, as young adults.
“Yeah.” Rensuke answered a few seconds late, “It’s dark. And it’s snowing again.”
But though he said that, they remained on the swings, lightly swaying, as if they both do not really want to go home yet.
“Hey, Kunigami.”
“Mm?”
“How long have you been feeling that way? That you’re not good enough?”
Rensuke thought about it for a second, and said, “Maybe a couple of weeks when I started high school, I guess? I know I kinda hinted I thought of giving up but, I think I was just. . . panicking. I really have no intention of abandoning soccer.”
“Hmm, you don’t look like you’ll give up without a bloody fight anyway.”
Rensuke laughed a little, eyes blankly at the ground, “Yeah. It’s my dream we’re talking about after all. I already knew it ain’t gonna be easy, but still, I was really fired up. Everyone’s got different opportunities in life, so as long as there’s even the tiniest chance for me, I’ll drag myself to get there, even in a frightened state. . . Maybe it won’t look cool, but so is giving up.”
“. . .”
Rensuke turned to Chigiri, quickly noticing a speck of snow caught on the outer edge of those long lashes. He suddenly had a strange urge to reach out, gently brush it away. But he remained in place. “Uh, sorry, was I talking too much?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m kinda getting used to it.” Chigiri admits, smiling a little.
Chigiri rarely smiles, and so Rensuke thought: pretty.
“Huh?”
“. . . did I say that out loud?”
Chigiri gently turned away, face hidden behind the soft curtain of his hair, “You did. Again.”
“. . .”
Rensuke had not fully realized, but it was becoming more impossible not to find himself drawn into his newfound friend’s rose-colored eyes the more they spend time together. And so, even though it seemed like one of his problem is partly solved, there was another concerning matter slowly filling in the spaces it was leaving behind, silently growing, uninvited, but ironically welcome.
Pure, unexpected, and sweet.
It was there in the afternoon walk and runs they took, the warm tea and snacks they shared, the conversations; the laughter and subtle bickering as they sat shoulder-to-shoulder on cold benches too small; in the way their eyes would sometimes linger a little too long, stealing glances, thinking the other wouldn’t notice. . . the invisible traces woven into those snowy roads, parks, metal, and wooden fences, frigid grasses and forest’s edge, the wild winter flowers. . .
But both of them were unaware.
One day, after class, with anticipation in his heart for another afternoon with Chigiri, as Rensuke was thinking of buying the princess something other than bean paste buns– maybe a cake will do– his teammates came and playfully dragged him out of the classroom, congratulating him for ‘graduating’ on the suspension.
He was stunned to place, couldn’t speak. He hadn’t realized at all that the week was over.
The ‘suspension’ indeed worked. The mental setbacks that weighed him down has lessened dramatically. It showed in his stabilizing performance in all aspects of training, especially in practice matches. Instead of looking at his teammates too much, Rensuke took deep breathes, focused on his own self, his own improvements, things that will work and help him best without damaging himself mentally and physically. He no longer wallowed on what he lacked, rather, he strived to strengthen his own existing weapons, his own resolve while trying to discover other areas to improve next.
One at a time. Slowly.
Their coach was impressed by how he managed to get himself back up so quickly, but Rensuke does not accept the compliment as he’s still considering himself at the starting point, and thanked the coach for believing and waiting for him.
Though really, he’d rather thank a certain someone too.
He hasn’t spoken to Chigiri in nearly a month. Rensuke was oddly beginning to get a little restless.
Since they’re in different classes, and exams were up before the spring break, they both had been too busy. Especially Rensuke who had to bury his head on the least favorite and difficult subjects he just barely passes every single semester. Then there were his club activities. Rensuke, frustrated, could only catch a quick glimpse of that pretty face, that vivid crimson hair. Even he can tell how occupied Chigiri was.
Three days before the exams, exhausted, and trying to remember stuff from the history book he just spent an hour reading and copying key points down, Rensuke did not notice another hand reaching for the library’s doorknob as he was exiting.
“Ah, sorry–” they said in unison.
And Rensuke’s eyes zeroed. He exclaimed, as if in reflex, far too intense for a library, “Chigiri!”
The ‘princess’ instantly hushed him, coloring at the many pair of eyes suddenly looking in their direction, drawn by Rensuke’s enthusiastic, booming voice.
“Ssh! You’re too loud, musclehead!”
“S– sorry!” Rensuke whispered back, before repeatedly bowing at the students and teachers he unintentionally bothered.
With a sigh, Chigiri motioned for the two of them to just step out.
“Really, sorry.” He whispers, “I’ve been here for an hour and didn’t even notice you.”
They went out the library, softy shutting the door with Chigiri scowling at him, a hand on the corridor’s window frame, “The heck was that exaggerated bark for?”
Rensuke couldn’t answer. Not because he’s too embarrassed by how loudly he said Chigiri’s name that it echoed, but because he was taken aback as to how his heart just fucking stuttered at the sight of Chigiri standing right before him, close enough to touch, and scolding him. He could even catch the familiar whiff of Chigiri’s floral scented shampoo/conditioner, and hair mist. Then came the tiny fluttering sensations in his stomach. No it wasn’t a type of dreadful collywobbles that he can blame on what he ate at afternoon soccer practice. It was a different kind of tingle.
He stood frozen into place, face growing hot he had to look away from Chigiri’s adorable glare. Rensuke drops his face on his palm, hunching in a vain effort to hide as it dawned on him. As clear as a cloudless summer sky.
Oh Gods, butterflies? Why?! Am I seriously–?! With Chigiri?! When did that happen?!
“Dude, can you hear me?” An impatient question. “You okay?”
Still reeling, Rensuke just nodded, still not facing Chigiri even though he’s been complaining for weeks that they haven’t spoken after the one-week ‘suspension’.
“Then, I’m going. We have a small group study in english today and–”
Hearing that, his body hastily straightened up as if to prevent Chigiri from leaving right away, like he’d been pinched really hard, throwing out the giddy, nervous feeling, and failing miserably, “Chigiri! I– !”
Another deep frown, knitted brows. And lightly furious pink eyes. “Kunigami, will you stop shouting my name? I’m right here not a soccer’s field away.”
“Ah, right. Sorry! Again. Uh. . .” He apologizes, cursing himself for being too flustered by his sudden realization, “Uhm, it’s just, I haven’t seen you in weeks so I was wondering how you’re doing and everything. . .”
“I’m fine. Same as ever.” Chigiri answers, trying to understand Rensuke’s expression, “Busy with reviews, right? Almost everyone here including you.”
“Yeah, and uhm, busy with soccer too. I stayed back here after practice. Coach will cut off practice time early for the next two days so the players can prep more for the exams.”
“Finally got your mojo back?”
“I guess so.” Rensuke smiled a bit, “Thanks to you, Chigiri.”
The other blinked as he dug into his pocket, replying, “Me? What did I even do? Anyway, good for you. Here–”
Rensuke hold out a hand almost without thought.
Chigiri placed a piece of candy on the center of Rensuke’s palm. It was pink, encased in a clear plastic wrapper. “Congratulations.”
That night, as he lay in bed ready to sleep, Rensuke stared at the pink candy that reminded him of a certain ‘princess’, holding it between his fingertips.
His cheeks began to warm as he thought of it, wishing those classmates of Chigiri did not suddenly come out of the library and cut their moment short. Though disappointed, Rensuke played it cool and calmly waved Chigiri goodbye though he was vibrating inside. He wouldn’t want to be in the way of Chigiri’s scheduled group study.
But maybe it was good that his classmates walked in when they did. I was a fucking mess and didn’t know what to say. Uncool.
He places the candy on the bed side table next to his phone, pulling the blanket up to his still blushing face. Rensuke thinks of Chigiri still, their simple but magical time together around the town and neighborhood, and how he wants to see and spend time with the other as soon as possible even knowing he might mess up once more and get embarrassingly rattled by the fact that he has developed a huge crush on Chigiri, not even knowing when it started.
Though a little restless, he managed to fall asleep soon, dreaming of borrowed snowy afternoons; of serene silence under calm, winter skies, and empty roads; soft scarlet hair, and pink luminous eyes.
Rensuke is always the last one to leave after club practice has finished. He diligently takes at least an additional thirty to one hour of personal training. With weights, sometimes running, ball control, shooting practice, etc. Today, he did a couple of laps around the field, and is now in the middle of cool down stretches. Rensuke lays flat on the grass after he was done with the last set, admiring the afternoon sky, wishing his exam results will be kind to him.
Just as he allowed his mind to settle, to clear, he hears footsteps on the grassy field coming in his direction. Thinking it was one of his teammates, he did not move nor bothered to speak up.
The footsteps stopped right a few inches away from his head, and his eyes flew open.
A pair of vivid pink gems stares down at him, framed by absurdly long lashes, “Hey.”
Rensuke bolted upright, “Chigiri!”
“Again with that lively response.” Chigiri sighs. “Anyway, that was a nice goal.”
“Oh.” Rensuke blinked, realizing. “Thanks. Were you watching the match the whole time?”
His heart made a tiny somersault at the thought that Chigiri had been watching the match, though it was only a practice game between the club members.
“Just for the last fifteen minutes.” Chigiri answers, before pointing out, “It’s late, shouldn’t you be heading back?”
“Yeah, I’m already done here.”
“Hurry up and get changed before you catch a cold.”
“Ah, right.” He breathes. “Uhm. . .”
“I’ll wait for you here.” A small smile.
He did not know what prompted that, as if Chigiri had read his mind, but Rensuke’s face visibly lit up, in an instant, he zoomed past the other, shouting, “I won’t take long!”
Rensuke reaches the club room, quickly stripped his damp clothes off and changed into a white t-shirt. He then stuffed his things haphazardly inside his bag, not wanting to make Chigiri wait too long. Or rather, he wanted to have as much time he can get, as if this was a rare opportunity.
Done and all, and making sure the room was locked, he quickly returned to the field. Chigiri was outside already.
“That was fast.”
He just smiled, “Let’s go?”
Rensuke’s settled in a kind of calming mood but with this weird but welcoming happy buzz that radiates through his body as they walked side by side out the school premises and down the streets, speaking about the exams, the bloody reviews, what they had for lunch, and late soccer practices. At some point they’ve mutually decided to make a detour into a store, bought meat buns, and lingered on a mini children’s playground. It did not have a court or anything, just a rainbow slide, swings, a few manual animal rides, and a sand box that has an unfinished attempt of a wobbly castle.
They sat in comfortable silence on one of the cold, stone benches, sipping on hot, canned cocoa.
“We’ll have our asses frozen on this seat.” Chigiri says with a scowl, shifting to sit more on the edge.
“Haha. It’s colder than wooden ones. Wanna just stand?”
“No. It’s bearable. . .” He sighs, tucking a few strands of red hair against the back of his ear, “It’s almost spring but we still get plenty of snow.”
The remaining lights of the day has died, and the lamp post nearby suddenly lit up. Rensuke wondered if he was smiling too much today, happy that Chigiri stayed late to watch the soccer match, and actually waited for him. He no longer wondered why, Chigiri was just like that. Rensuke began to talk about anything, not wanting to part with Chigiri just yet. He talked about his dream, about playing for Japan, for himself. . . and shyly admitted on including Chigiri in his list.
“Kunigami, thanks, but you don’t need to do that.” Chigiri says almost reproachfully.
“But why not?”
Chigiri sighs faintly, looking conflicted, “I’ve been lying to you about my injury.”
What? “W– what do you mean?”
Rensuke listened with baited breath as Chigiri made a confession. Of how the latter got an injury, Of how the doctors had warned him that a second tear was possible though he can still continue playing soccer, and aim to be a pro. But even after hearing that, it prevented Chigiri from playing to his full capacity, from playing the way he used to even after it fully healed. But Chigiri had been since bound by the fear of the injury happening again, he’d lost his spirit, and slowly began to withdraw from the sport he loved so much.
Chigiri continues to speak, and Rensuke does not interrupt. He quietly listened, absorbing every word, giving Chigiri his full attention.
“I really don’t have any plans on telling you this,” Chigiri concluded, “But you’re such an honest, and earnest guy. . . straightforward in a kind way, I felt guilty for lying to you.”
“No, I understand why you’d hide the truth.” Ah, I never thought Chigiri thought of me that way.
“That’s, by the way, just a part of why I came out clean.” Chigiri breathes deep and turned to Rensuke with a smile, “I thought about what you said before and. . . you’re right. There’s still a chance for me, it’s tiny, but it’s there, so I’m going to grab it.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s been. . . an invitation for me actually. Uhm, long story short, despite them knowing my condition, they still wanted me to be a part of their soccer team. As a forward.”
“Wait.” Rensuke paused, thinking what that meant, “So you’re. . . transferring schools?”
Chigiri nods once, smile widening a little more. There was hope and a certain glow in those pink eyes Rensuke has only ever seen when Chigiri outruns him on their playful ‘races’, a radiant light trying to find its way out. And so he could only stare as Chigiri said:
“Yes. I’m going back to Kagoshima.”