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Kaiser read everything about Isagi Yoichi.
Not because he was particularly interested in him.
He simply believed that a striker should know everything there was to know about the person standing in his way.
Every little detail could become useful eventually. That was all.
That was what Kaiser told himself as he lounged back against the sofa, one ankle resting over his knee, Isagi’s latest interview open on his phone.
He glanced at the accompanying photograph first. It was a candid shot of Isagi walking through the city in jeans and a loose sweater, looking far more relaxed than Kaiser was used to seeing him.
His gaze lingered for a second too long before he moved on. The interview was in Japanese, so he ran it through a translator first.
Getting to know Isagi Yoichi: Personality, habits, and more about Bastard München’s Rising Star
He scoffed at the title.
Rising star.
As if Isagi weren’t already irritatingly good.
He skimmed over the basic information first.
Height.
Kaiser already knew it.
Weight.
He knew that too.
Age, position, dominant foot—
He kept scrolling.
There was nothing particularly surprising so far. Training habits, thoughts on football, the usual questions. Kaiser had read enough interviews by now that he could practically predict Isagi’s answers before reaching them.
He continued to the next section.
Q: What is your personality type?
A: ENTP.
Kaiser stopped scrolling.
“Hm.”
That one was new.
The E caught his attention first.
Extroverted?
Kaiser stared at the answer.
Yoichi?
The same Yoichi who could disappear into his own head for hours? Who barely noticed anyone around him when he was chasing an idea?
And yet…
Isagi wasn’t shy.
He talked back. He challenged people. He provoked them. He had no problem voicing his opinion, even when the person standing in front of him was someone he had every reason to be intimidated by.
Kaiser knew that firsthand.
The rest of it began to make an irritating amount of sense.
Isagi was endlessly curious. If something didn’t make sense to him, he couldn’t leave it alone. He had to understand it, test it, find its limits.
And when something stopped working, he didn’t cling to it.
He destroyed his own assumptions and rebuilt them into something better.
Kaiser had spent enough time on the pitch with him to know exactly how infuriating that could be.
“…Of course you are.”
He clicked his tongue and continued reading.
The next question made him pause again.
Q: How would you describe your body type?
A: Wave.
Kaiser stared at the word.
“…Wave?”
He searched the unfamiliar term.
Apparently, it was part of a Japanese body-type classification system.
There were three broad categories: Straight, Wave, and Natural.
The description of Wave mentioned narrower shoulders.
Delicate collarbones.
Kaiser frowned.
“…What kind of classification is this?”
He should have stopped reading. Instead, he scrolled down.
Softer skin.
Difficulty building muscle.
A defined waist.
Kaiser’s expression slowly changed.
He reached the final characteristic.
A tendency for weight to settle more noticeably around the lower body.
Kaiser read the description twice.
His eyes returned to Isagi’s photograph.
Then to the description again.
He locked his phone.
This was ridiculous.
None of this was relevant to football. He knew that.
He also knew that there was no reason whatsoever for him to be interested in whether some Japanese body-type classification happened to describe Isagi accurately.
Kaiser stared at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.
His rival had just unknowingly handed him another piece of himself.
He needed to understand him completely. Every strength. Every weakness. Every little habit. Every detail Isagi had carelessly revealed to the public.
Knowing an opponent’s physical characteristics could be useful.
If Isagi really had this particular body type, Kaiser ought to know.
It was reconnaissance. That was all.
He was going to verify every single point himself.
For the sake of crushing his rival, obviously.
The first opportunity presented itself in the changing room.
Kaiser leaned against one of the lockers, pretending to be absorbed in his phone while Isagi changed a few feet away.
Narrow shoulders.
That was the first thing he needed to verify.
Isagi had his back half-turned, pulling his shirt over his head.
Kaiser’s gaze lingered on the exposed line of his shoulders.
They were narrower than he’d expected, their slope noticeably finer than his own.
His gaze was just beginning to drift toward Isagi’s collarbones when Isagi suddenly looked over.
Their eyes met.
Isagi stared at him blankly.
His eyes narrowed.
Then widened. Horror slowly dawned across his face.
“What the hell are you looking at?”
Kaiser straightened. “Nothing.”
Isagi immediately pulled his arms across his chest, glaring at him.
“You were staring at me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I was looking in your general direction.”
Isagi grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on.
“Pervert,” he muttered, then stormed away.
Kaiser froze.
Pervert?
He considered the accusation seriously.
He replayed the scene.
Standing silently in a changing room and staring at Isagi while he undressed probably did, in fact, look suspicious.
That wasn’t ideal.
Fine.
If he was going to conduct proper reconnaissance, he needed to be more subtle.
The second confirmation happened by accident. Or, at least, Kaiser told himself it did.
They were arguing after training.
“You can’t seriously think that play was better than mine,” Isagi said.
“It was objectively better,” Kaiser replied.
“You lost, Kaiser.”
“I allowed you to score.”
“No, you didn’t. You literally fell for my feint. Twice.”
“That second one doesn’t count.”
“It absolutely counts. It made you look stupid—”
Kaiser reached out and caught Isagi by the cheek.
“Watch your mouth.”
Isagi froze.
Kaiser’s fingers rested against Isagi’s cheek. The skin under his palm was warm.
Soft.
Almost startlingly so.
Kaiser went still.
Oh.
Exactly as described.
His thumb shifted almost imperceptibly against Isagi’s skin.
Isagi slapped his hand away.
“Don’t touch my face!”
He rubbed his cheek, glaring.
“What the hell was that?”
Kaiser barely heard him.
He curled his fingers into his palm, the unexpected warmth of Isagi’s skin still lingering against them.
The third trait was more difficult.
Weight gain supposedly settling in the lower body.
Weight distribution wasn’t something Kaiser could determine just by looking at Isagi, especially in his training gear.
He needed more to go on.
Fortunately, Kaiser was exceptionally good at acquiring information.
“Come with me after training.”
Isagi looked up from his phone. “Where?”
“For food.”
“…Why?”
Kaiser shrugged. “I’m in the mood to treat you.”
Isagi narrowed his eyes.
“That’s suspicious.”
Kaiser’s expression fell. He looked away, letting his shoulders droop just slightly.
“I see how it is. Forget it.”
He waited.
Isagi stared at him for a long moment, clearly unconvinced.
Then came the inevitable sigh.
“You’re such a pain.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“…Whatever.”
They went to a nearby café after practice.
Isagi studied him as they sat down.
“So?”
“So what?”
“You dragged me all the way here. What do you want?”
“Is it so strange that I wanted your company?”
“Yes.”
“How cruel.”
Isagi ignored him and picked up the menu.
Isagi ordered something ridiculously sweet - a generous slice of strawberry shortcake piled high with cream and fruit.
Kaiser watched him take the first bite.
Isagi took another bite. And another.
With each one, his expression softened further, until the tension between his brows disappeared entirely.
He ate with an enthusiasm Kaiser found strangely difficult to look away from. His shoulders relaxed. His eyes brightened. A little bit of frosting caught at the corner of his mouth.
He looked almost cute—no. Kaiser mentally slapped the thought out of existence.
“This is really good.”
Isagi took another bite, looking genuinely delighted.
Kaiser rested his chin against his hand.
“Do you eat sweets often?”
Isagi paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“Sometimes.”
“How often?”
Isagi slowly lowered the fork.
“Why are you asking me that?”
Kaiser considered several answers. He couldn’t exactly tell Isagi the truth.
I read an interview about you and now I’m systematically verifying whether the things said about your body type are accurate.
There was no universe in which he was saying that out loud.
He needed something less incriminating. “It’s relevant.”
“Relevant to what?”
Kaiser considered the question.
“You’re an athlete,” he said. “Eating too many sweets can affect your condition. If it starts interfering with your performance, that becomes my problem.”
That sounded convincing enough.
Isagi gave him a skeptical look.
“…How would it affect my condition?”
“Depends on how your body handles it,” Kaiser said. “Some people can eat whatever they want and barely change. Others aren’t so lucky.”
His eyes lingered on Isagi.
“Don’t you gain weight easily?”
Isagi blinked, caught entirely off guard.
“I don’t—” he started defensively, but his voice caught. Heat rushed to his cheeks. “It mostly—”
He stopped himself.
Kaiser raised an eyebrow.
“I train a lot!” Isagi added quickly, looking away.
Kaiser’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I know you do.”
Isagi glanced back at him suspiciously.
“You ask too many questions.”
“And you seem awfully determined not to answer them.”
“Because you’re asking weird questions about my diet!”
Kaiser leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself.
Isagi returned to his cake, though his ears were still red.
Kaiser found himself watching him again.
He hadn’t realized how easily the time had passed, or how little he’d minded sitting across from Isagi with nothing to do but watch him eat, argue with him, and listen to him complain.
There was only one characteristic left to confirm.
The one that refused to leave him alone.
A noticeably fuller lower half, particularly around the hips and thighs.
Kaiser couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much.
He understood why he wanted to know everything about Isagi’s football.
He understood why he wanted to know Isagi’s habits, weaknesses, strengths, and thought processes.
But this?
This was different.
And yet, somehow, it felt important.
He told himself it was simply because he wanted to complete the classification.
Kaiser waited until the changing room was nearly empty.
Isagi had just turned away when Kaiser glanced over.
Just for a second.
Just a quick look—
Unfortunately, Isagi turned around at exactly the wrong moment.
Kaiser immediately turned his attention elsewhere, as though he hadn’t been caught staring.
A minute later, Isagi caught him again.
Finally, Isagi pulled his shirt into place and crossed his arms.
“Kaiser, what’s your deal lately?”
Kaiser met his gaze, feigning innocence.
“That’s a remarkably vague question.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“You’ve been… weird. More than usual.” Isagi gave him a pointed look. “First you were staring at me in the changing room. Then you grabbed my face. Then you took me out for food and interrogated me about cake.”
“…”
“And now you’re doing it again.”
For a moment, Kaiser said nothing. His eyes drifted toward Isagi again, before settling somewhere just past his shoulder.
Kaiser sighed. There was no point pretending anymore.
“…I read that interview.”
Isagi’s brow furrowed.
“What interview?”
“The one where you described yourself as a wave type.”
Isagi’s face slowly changed as realization dawned.
His ears began to warm.
“You read that?”
Kaiser shrugged, as though there were nothing unusual about it.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s not even that interesting. It’s just a stupid little profile detail.”
“I disagree.”
The answer came too quickly.
Isagi looked at him more carefully.
Kaiser leaned back against the lockers and crossed his arms.
“I didn’t know what ‘Wave’ meant,” he admitted. “So I looked it up.”
“…Oh.”
“I wanted to understand it.”
“Why?”
Again, Kaiser fell silent.
This was becoming increasingly inconvenient.
“I was curious,” he said eventually.
“…About my body?”
“Yes.”
Isagi’s face slowly turned red.
“Why are you so curious about that?”
That was a surprisingly difficult question.
He could explain the initial curiosity. It had been an unfamiliar classification. Naturally, he’d wanted to understand it.
Then he’d wanted to verify whether the descriptions actually applied to Isagi.
And then—
Somehow, somewhere along the way, verifying the information had become much more important than it had any right to be.
“I don’t know,” Kaiser admitted.
He clicked his tongue, faintly irritated by his own inability to explain himself.
“I just… needed to know. It’s important information.” his voice dropped, “About you.”
Isagi was quiet for a moment.
His gaze dropped, and his fingers tightened around the hem of his shirt.
“…Is it really that important to you?”
Kaiser nodded. The answer was immediate.
Isagi studied him for a long moment.
Then the disbelief in his expression slowly gave way to something dangerously close to amusement.
He shifted his weight, eyes flicking away for half a second before locking back onto Kaiser’s.
“So… do you want to go somewhere more private?”
Kaiser went still.
The flush remained on Isagi’s cheeks, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes now.
“I’ll let you get a proper look.”
Kaiser’s brain short-circuited into pure white noise. Every calculated thought evaporated.
Somewhere private.
Yoichi.
A proper look.
Alone.
His thoughts scattered in every direction at once.
Isagi grinned when he saw the look on Kaiser’s face.
It was the sort of smile Kaiser hated - the one that said Isagi knew he had the upper hand.
Isagi turned and headed for the door. After a few steps, he glanced back over his shoulder.
“Coming?”
Kaiser stood there for another second, recalibrating.
His body moved before his brain had finished catching up.
“…Huh—yes.”
He fell into step behind Isagi, still looking faintly dazed.
For perhaps the first time since this ridiculous investigation had begun, Kaiser had the uncomfortable suspicion that he was no longer the one conducting the reconnaissance.
And judging by the knowing smile on Isagi’s face—
He’d already been thoroughly figured out.