Chapter Text
His hand. He had used his hand to block Trepone’s shot.
At that moment, only the ball mattered. Nothing or no one else. Neither his mother who came to see one of his matches for the first time, nor coach Fukuda who was yelling at him to calm his game, and even less her, Hana, who had been watching him from the beginning.
Just the ball and me.
The heartbreaking cries of his teammates at the arrival of the ball in the penalty area. The smell of sweat mixed with that of freshly cut grass. Bodies pressed against each other, arguing for possession of the object. Kuribayashi in the distance, who was waiting. And him. Him who had only insulted Ashito all along.
"You’re pathetic! Aren’t you thinking of giving up football?"
No. To him, his senior of second year, he wanted to show him that he deserved it. Yes. That he, Ashito, was worthy to tread this grass with his feet.
Prevent Trepone from scoring. Stay on the field at all costs and block the damn ball. That’s what he wanted. That the ball did not touch the net. That it was finally recognized and admired. Because he wanted to become a pro and would do anything, absolutely everything, to get there.
"Hurry up and fucking go."
That’s what he had told him after the referee blew his whistle. The rage that had combed over his features could have made Ashito tremble with terror if Akutsu had not expressed anything other than mere anger.
Indeed... because there had been something else.
Disappointment.
Disappointment and pure contempt in the look he gave him. That’s what hurt him the most. Not that he was angry, that, he could have faced it. But that Akutsu was disappointed in him, that totally shook him. Because he knew that his senior had never expected anything from him. But the fact that he saw his face writhed in that disappointed epression when he had just not expected anything from him... It was hard.
He brought his knees close to his chest and wrapped them tightly around his arms. All his friends were angry with him, he was sure. Otomo, Togashi, Asari... He didn’t have the courage to join training today. Or the day before, for that matter. It had already been three days since he had left the dormitory. He was sitting there, leaning against the bed base, completely depressed. He had failed in the worst possible way.
"You are useless."
Akutsu was right. He wanted too much and, in the end, it had strictly served no purpose. All this for that.
He had done well. A red card from the start of the pool matches. Shame gripped him again. He hated himself.
He plunged his head into the hollow of his knees, his brown hair falling sadly on his arms. Yes, it was his fault. The old man had warned him.
I know I’m fucking useless. I know that better than anyone...
⚽ ⚽ ⚽
The sun declined little by little, coloring the sky with its pinkish glints. The day was coming to an end. The darkness would soon appear and Akutsu still hadn’t managed to block a single striker all day. Fuck it. The whistle blew across the entire field to announce the end of training.
“Hey, Akutsu,” Kiriki shouted at him.
He stepped up to him and tightened his shoulder with a friendly pressure. Kiriki was not one of those who lingered in long discussions. He watched, evaluated, and then acted. Akutsu understood. He didn’t blame him for his horrible play. He knew it was only passing.
“We’ll win the next match,” he continued. “And the next one too. Esperion will crush them all.”
Akutsu looked at him for a moment, surprised, before nodding.
“Yeah.”
Clearly, Funabashi Gakuin had apparently upset them all quite a lot. Even the chef was getting into it.
He raised his head towards the sky.
Sweat was beading all over his body as he tried to catch his breath. Another day wasted on nothing, without any convincing result.
It made him angry. He wiped his face with the tip of his t-shirt, revealing at the same time the line of his abs.
What a poor performance, he thought. He didn’t understand what was happening. For the past few days, he wasn’t on his level; he could feel it. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t say what. He was itching there, somewhere in his chest. An absence. Or a void? Yes, maybe. He had the impression that everything wasn’t in its place. That it was missing...
“Ashito?”
Akutsu abruptly froze at the agreement of that name. Without realizing it, his grip on his jersey tightened a lot stronger, until his knuckles whitened. It’s incredible how the mere mention of these syllables could bring out so many emotions inside him.
Ashito.
That poor moron who was just bawling all day long. And who had put them in the shit during the last match.
He never wanted to hear that damned name again. Fuck.
“Yes, do you have any news about him?” Otomo asked as they were leaving the field.
“Ask Togashi, I think he’s his dorm mate,” Tachibana replied.
“Well, it’s that... He preferred to sleep at his place. The atmosphere is horrible in the room, apparently. You know, I’m seriously starting to worry...”
Are there really people who worry about this fool? thought Akutsu. He didn’t hear the end of the conversation (not that he wanted to know it anyway) because they both went away to go drink water on the side of the benches.
He clenched his fists.
All things considered, he had 'perhaps' a small idea of his condition when he thought about it, but there was no way that he would let this thought form in his mind. It must have been something else. Yes, the fatigue from the previous match and the stress of the national team selection were necessarily for that.
And not the other one.
He shook his head, hoping with vigor to succeed in getting this guy out of his mind. He needed a good shower and his bed. Everything would be better afterwards. He convinced himself of it with all his strength.
As he was preparing to leave for his own dormitory, a voice called out to him.
“Akutsu, come here a moment please. I need to talk to you.”
Coach Fukuda.
He was sitting on one of the benches, his legs crossed as usual. He looked at Akutsu with a serious look in his eyes.
Akutsu observed his surroundings. Everyone had already left. Only the coach and he were left. Ugh. He knew that he had played like shit. There was no point in him taking the trouble to tell it to his face with such a serious visage.
But he advanced anyway. Simply because he owed much, if anything, to this man. Because otherwise, he would have already left him high and gone without looking back.
“Yes, coach?” he says.
“I have a request for you.”
Akutsu frowned without saying a word. A request? Well, let’s see, he who expected to be yelled at for his inefficiency of the last three days.
He waited, inwardly crossing his fingers that Fukuda did not ask him for something like training the first years every evening.
“I would like you to go talk to Ashito,” he ended up saying, completely serious.
There was a silence.
A terrible silence.
The sentence had fallen slowly between them, as innocently as a small drop of water. But it was Akutsu who caught the repercussions of the waves with unprecedented violence. He blinked once, shocked.
In a completely vain hope, he told himself that he must have misheard what the coach had just said to him. So he repeated it.
“Sorry?”
“You heard me right. I want you to go check on Ashito.”
Akutsu stared at him, completely speechless. In the end, he would have preferred to train all the first years of Esperion, including even those who were not initiated by high school.
Well... He really expected anything but that. Talking to that idiot, me? Is he taking the piss or what? He was laughing inside. No way. And then what?
“I’m sorry, but...”
“Akutsu,” Fukuda said.
Akutsu fell silent immediately. That tone usually didn’t sound good.
“Do you remember when I pulled you out of that dingy apartment?”
Huh? Akutsu narrowed his eyes, annoyed. What is he playing at?
“Are you blackmailing me or something, coach? Seriously, you—”
“I remember it. You were desperately waiting for someone to come and get you out of this hell. For someone to tell you that it wasn’t your fault. That you could start all over again. Am I wrong, Akutsu?”
He did not answer.
He didn’t expect to have this kind of conversation at all, now that the sun was setting. He was tired and hungry. He wanted to sleep.
He ran a hand over his face, completely exasperated. Who was he taking it for? The good Samaritan? Damn, this energetic moron never left him alone even when he wasn’t there.
Fukuda said nothing else and simply handed him a bottle of water.
“It’s your turn to do the same now. Not just for Ashito. It’s obvious, you know. I’m not the one who gonna tell you that you’ve been playing like crap for a while. So do it for both of you.
"For both of you." Akutsu barely held back a laugh. Damn, what a pain in the ass.