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Chapter Text

A certain crimson-haired player in blue lock finds himself longing for a color he doesn't quite remember lately. Ever since he received news of Kunigami's return, days were going by slower, and gone were the days filled with the person he used to know. 

What once was a reliable shoulder to fall on was now an empty vessel for that sleep-deprived manager to use. 

Despite Chigiri's continuous attempts to make amends with Kunigami, the latter wouldn't budge. He could almost laugh at his new 'philosophy.' It didn't suit him at all.

3-2

The teen, occupying the video operation room, realizes himself replaying the match between against Bastard Munchen incessantly. Not for the sake of recognizing and improving his plays— which he should be doing, given that his last match was upcoming, but in order to, atleast somehow, gaze upon a fallen hero, and reminisce all the times they'd spent before all the crap Ego pulled at them. 

"He changed," silky, upturned hair casts upon his shoulders as he mutters to himself. 

He doesn't know what to do. He'd hoped, at the start, to reconcile with Kunigami. To apologize. 

Apologize? What was he to apologize for? He didn't do anything wrong. It was simply a matter of who got chosen. And Isagi's team chose him. 

...Though he can't help but feel guilty, that if not for that scenario, maybe Kunigami wouldn't have been pushed to the edge; maybe he wouldn't have to change. 

Thoughts chipped away at his mind, and self-esteem. It didn't have to be him. Infact, Kunigami was probably a better pick—

Eventually he'd come to: it was morning. 

I don't care anymore, he thinks, sighing. The red panther would walk to the canteen, otping for breakfast. The players of Manshine City were scattered across the tables. There, Reo and Nagi were sitting across each other. While Chris was sharing a table with Agi. 

He places his tray onto the space next to Reo's, "What is it?"

"What's what?" He tilts his head. 

"What has you looking so tired?" Reo asks, serving a mouthful of natto-rice to the sleepy acquaintance sitting across him, who was more than willing to oblige. 

"Both of you. I'm tired of both of you." Chigiri simply responds, laughing lightly. At the sight of the two, he briefly recalls Kunigami trading his food with him back during their Team Z juncture. 

For an apparent reason, the two have only grown closer since that match with Isagi. 

He wonders if, given a chance, he and Kunigami would've been as close, if not more— too.

"..."

In any case, he wasn't given a chance. There's no use crying over milk that doesn't exist. 

Chigiri swiftly finishes his breakfast, if only to be rid of the pocket parrots. Ants could forage them for sweetness, was his passing thought. 

Their last match, which would be against FC Barcha, was just around the corner, whilst Bastard Munchen was up against PXG. Yet still, the thought of Rensuke lingered in his mind. And who was Hyouma, if not a slave to his desires? Who is any man, really, if not that? 

Thus, beyond his better judgement(training), Chigiri sneaks to Munchen's stratum once more. He figures Kunigami would be by the training grounds, and he was about to go there, when he bumps into Anri, who was holding her complementary clickboard. 

"Ah, sorry—" Documents dropped to the ground, and the teen was quick to help out, recognizing a familiar name printed on top. 

Kunigami Rensuke. 

Anri leaves. Chigiri trails after her inconspicuously, ending up at the main stratum, where Ego was residing, as well as... Kunigami?

Chigiri felt as though a chill ran down his spine. How could it not, when the already worrying friend of his was laid onto some bed, with machines attached and strapped to him. Was that a nasal cannula? Could Kunigami be having respiratory problems? The former felt as though the genre quickly changed from sports to thriller. Was this legal??

"Achieve a blank state of mind," Ego's voice rings out from inside, a chilling tone present. 

He was sure, then, that Ego, that mortifying creep, was doing something terribly wrong to his friend. That's totally something a villain would say!

"Kunigami!" Chigiri exclaims the moment the other's figure comes out and away from Ego's dwelling. 

The other merely pauses in his strides, signifying his attention as he meets Chigiri's gaze through tired, bloodshot eyes, which only served to fuel Hyouma's determination.

"I can't believe you.. Are you okay?"

The red-head could almost shed tears at every hypothesis he came up with what happened to his friend. 

"What?" He plainly responds, outright confused. He was already exhausted with all that happened with Ego, and now this? 

Unbeknownst to the former hero, the person in front of him was concocting a terrible fallacy beneath his thoughts. 

A look of pity contorts upon the princess' face, before he shakes his head, and instead, offered to walk Kunigami back to his dorm. The latter kept quiet, fists clenched as he let the other escort him, not uttering a single word. 

Was he being threatened? Chigiri thinks. 

Ofcourse he is. That's why he's been so quiet since he's returned. 

Poor Rensuke, Chigiri's brows meet as he bids farewell to the hero, who continued to ignore his continued advances.

Clearly, the man was being forced to surrender his body, by Ego! To 'contribute' to yet another twisted ideal of a soccer player. He doesn't know what, but he's certain it's definitely something.

The madman was going to turn Rensuke to a puppet..! 

Chigiri, anxious, resolved to give much-needed care to his friend— who he now knows is a victim of Ego's senseless abuse. Fucking retard. I should get that creep sued while I was at it, he reckoned. 

That very same night, after his training, Chigiri Hyouma would be found stocking up on whatever products he could get his hands on, new-found enthusiasm brewing within him. He was going to help Kunigami, starting from now. 

An act of giving back kindness to that steak Rensuke gave him after scoring the first goal back at team Z.

And Chigiri swears it's nothing more than that. 

So it wasn't by his own will. It was Ego's fault.

Chapter Text

"What is this..?" 

Kunigami's words were reflected by the faces of everyone else in Bastard Munchen's stratum. The last rounds were coming up, the highlights. Yet it would seem Chigiri Hyouma was making his own. 

"First aid." Chigiri replies while dutifully tending to the scratches obtained from that tackle from the other's last match. Which was, bluntly put, days ago. 

"I don't need first aid."

"You do, you just don't know it."

"And, wouldn't you rather give your full capacity during the last match? Trust me on this one." Chigiri adds, grinning sheepishly as he finishes dressing the scratch.

"This is overkill, Chigiri."

"It's not."

It is. 

It was simply a minor wound, says the distasteful, judgemental face plastered upon Isagi Yoichi's face. It was normal for soccer players to earn those during matches. Common, infact. And he doesn't see Bachira crossing stratums to see him and tend to the injury.

That, in itself speaks volumes regarding Chigiri's treatment for the ambidextrous player. 

When were we so caring of our former teammates? 

"Something's going on here." Isagi mutters, earning Hiori's agreement. 

Kunigami simply glares at them, as if they were going to get strangled if their words ever persuade Hyouma to stop whatever it was that involved skinship between them. As much as he hates to admit it, he liked being treated like this. 

Before Isagi could call him out, report to Chigiri, the red-head was already dragging Kunigami to the cafeteria. The act causing the other to follow and third-wheel, simply observing whatever it was that was unfolding between the two. 

Hyouma would be having his lunch in Bastard Munchen's cafeteria as if it were his own, taking liberty of placing two trays of food on the table with Kunigami, Isagi, Hiori, and the much quieter Kiyora, who they had joined. 

"Is this for me?" Isagi jokes, 

"Is the sky red?" Chigiri retorts. 

No, but Kunigami's face, caught up in all this, definitely was. He was aware of all the stares they were getting. Some suspicious, and one particularly mocking look from Kaiser, who most of them knew definitely wasn't one to talk, given what vague relationship he had within his own circle.

But Chigiri couldn't care one bit. He wouldn't have started this care project in the first place if he was going to give up so easily. Kunigami Rensuke had helped enough people in his lifetime. Now it was his turn to receive help. 

"What will you be up to after?" Chigiri asks the Munchen players at his table as he wraps a ready-made onigiri for his friend, where Isagi meets his gaze and was about to respond when Kunigami cuts him off. 

"It's none of your business. Why don't you go back to your stratum and train for your last match? Slacking won't earn you a seat at the U-20's starting position." 

"Ah, so training, then?" He asks, and Kiyora would glance up for the first time, as if surprised Chigiri was able to derive that from the other's words. Just then, Chigiri places the clumsily made onigiri onto Kunigami's tray, smiling,

Chigiri understands. Kunigami was merely worried for him. He's worried for him. It was his way of showing concern. That Kunigami also wanted him to take care of himself, and strive to be at the starting line-up, with him. He can't help but smile at that. 

Isagi nods his head, augmenting Chigiri's guess. "Why don't you join us?"

"No, I'll be alright. This one's right, anyways. Can't have someone else taking my place, yeah?" The red-head places a hand on Kunigami's toned shoulder. As compensation for having to leave early. Even though he wanted to look at his hero more. 

And with that, Chigiri walks out of Germany's stratum, leaving Isagi teasing the ginger-haired player. 

"I mean, I never thought you swung that way, cyborg," an ever-present smile was on Isagi's face as he munched down on his meal, eyeing Kunigami. 

"Not.. Another word." The cyborg in question responds, carefully taking a bite of the onigiri his friend made for him, which had quickly fallen apart. Chigiri was never good at wrapping onigiri. The image makes him smile. 

"What, don't say you're leading Chigiri on..?"

The mere suggestion of it was enough to have Kunigami brooding. 

"Shut your trap, Isagi. You know he doesn't mean it like that."

Kunigami knows it isn't possible, between him and... Chigiri Hyouma. They were different worlds. They were friends. If anything, it was nothing more than Chigiri clinging to whatever semblance there was of his former self. Not him. Not the him now. And he wants to keep it that way, only for the fact that it's better this way. 

Despite that, the comment seemed to fall deaf on ears as Isagi continued his suggestive looks, as if tempting him to doubt his resolve. The other was sure he's going to be at the brunt of this man's relentless teasing for the rest of the day. He only hopes he doesn't bring it up during official matches on camera. 

"What else could he mean then, Kunigami?" He asks the obvious question, to which Kunigami simply gets up to and leaves the table, leaving the three alone to finish. 

Instead, Kunigami headed for the training grounds to break a sweat. And get his thoughts off of Chigiri Hyouma. 

Did he eat expired food? Acting all weird and caring. Kunigami thinks. Even so, Rensuke, somewhere in his dark, sorrowful heart, hopes whatever it is doesn't digest so quickly.

Hours passed and with steady, deliberate motion, Kunigami was hauling himself up the pull-up bar— ten reps, then fifteen, and so on, and not without thoughts of the upcoming match. Ego's words echoed in his head, he wasn't there to be the best, but to help create it. 

There were no dreams for goners like him, who'd already discarded their ego—

"Kunigami!" Isagi's voice interrupts him from his thoughts, and he was about to ignore him when the next words came out of his mouth;

"Chigiri's waiting outside."

Chapter Text

When Chigiri arrived back in his stratum a few hours earlier, he was greeted by cameramen and Chris, who was filming a commercial for some brand of chocolate. Expectedly, the players of Manshine City were recipients of the excess chocolate. 

"Chigiri!" Reo waves at him, mixing some sort of concoction in a bowl with a spatula, whilst Nagi watched beside him, assisting, and Agi was washing strawberries in the background. And Chigiri could only wonder if this was a soccer program or a cooking show. 

"We're making chocolate strawberries, care to join?" 

"Sure," He agrees, checking out the drawers for toppings. In the end, he ended up with crushed almonds, toasted coconut flakes and srpinkles. For a long while, they savored making the dessert more than eating it. Too much, in fact, that they ended with five bowls the entirety of manshine wouldn't be able to stomach. 

You'd know it was too much by Nagi's determined rejection even when Reo was feeding it to him. He'd never say no to Reo any other time.

The first thing he thought of being Kunigami, "Can I give this to my friend in the other stratum?" Chigiri asks, turning to Chris who enthusiastically agreed. While Reo gives him a knowing look, Chigiri ignored him and grabs a bowl full of chocolate strawberries, heading out. 

By pure luck, he managed to meet Isagi on the way, who seemed to have come from the direction of F.C. Barcha's stratum, he dismisses the thought,

"Isagi,"

"Chigiri, what are you doing here?" The man asked, smiling softly, knowingly, even. 

"Can you call Kunigami?"

"Should I get Kunigami?"

They both said at the same time, earning a laugh from each other. 

"Fine, I will, but you owe me a bowl of those."

"No chance, these are for him. There's some left back at the building though, should I bring them tomorrow?"

And with that, Isagi Yoichi headed inside to inform the person in question. 

Kunigami, before any rational thought, strided past Isagi with willingness he could only compare to a dog seeking his owner. Seriously, what's gotten into him? 

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Ego had made it clear to him what his purpose was. He shouldn't be feeling this. His heart shouldn't be fluttering at the every sight of that crimson hair, nor the smile that seemed to be able to hold its own against heaven itself. 

But it did. 

And god, did it feel so good to feel things you can't quite explain to someone you can't quite have. 

"..Chigiri." The man muttered as he stepped out of the building, where Chigiri was waiting for him, his breathing apparent through the cold breeze of the evening. 

"..."

"I was waiting, you know. Couldn't you have taken longer?" The other responds in kind, with that same, loveable smile he had always worn around Kunigami. The smile that held a warmth only strangers were able to discern— that seemed to have been for one person alone. 

Kunigami responds in silence, tepidly staring at Chigiri with a gaze that was akin to a threat. 

'What the.. is he mad?? What did I even do??' Chigiri deliberates, noticing how the other had clenched his fists in stiffness. Was he about to punch him or something? 

Clearing his throat, he spoke once more, "I bought something." He offers the bowl of strawberries drizzled with chocolate to his acquaintance, who simply glances at them before returning his gaze to him. 

"Is that all?" Kunigami asks, with neutrality you'd never think to see from someone who was facing the very person that made his heart thump like it has loved the other a million ways. Which was funny, because said person was the one who only persevered through wild-card due to thoughts of the one person he didn't want to leave, the same person who, he could swear, would never love someone like him.

Why did it have to be you?

"No, I'm also taking payment. That is, to wash the bowl once you're done eating."

"Understood, I'll have Isagi bring it back tomorrow—" 

'I was going to, either way, it was only proper manners..' were the words he left unsaid. 

"Dream on, I'm taking it back tonight. Chris will get mad if I don't." 

Chris won't.

However, Chigiri, definitely will. Why was Isagi the one bringing it back? He was sick of that demon's face. Furthermore, he wanted Kunigami to give it back. 

"I'll wait for you to finish it." He concludes, giving a thumbs up as the other received the dessert. 

"Ah.. Is that okay? Sorry for the trouble." Kunigami replied awkwardly, a subtle hint of amiability in his tone as fervor rushed to his cheeks. 

That was more like the Rensuke he knew before. 

"Let's go inside."

"Okay, thanks!"

Kunigami opens the door for him, allowing him entry first, before leading him to Munchen's living room, and the two sit there awkwardly for a time. 

"What's..with the dessert?" Kunigami asked casually, placing a strawberry against his own mouth. 

"Huh?" Chigiri visibly stiffens. Right. It was weird for him to go all the way here to give the concoctions to Kunigami specifically, when he could've just handed them to Isagi when they met outside. "They're excess produce, don't worry about it." He tries to play it off. 

"No, I mean...Why me?" 

Kunigami asks the one question he hopes he wouldn't ask. Because in truth, he doesn't know, too. 

He could just keep it simple and say it's for the care project he swore to make for him, however, Chigiri knows that entire shenanigan had never crossed his mind more than once. 

"..Well, I just—"

I wanted to see you. 

'Ah, this isn't good, he's getting annoyed.' Chigiri thinks to himself, noticing the displeasure on the other's face, knowing he knows that he knows what his unwarranted visits may imply. 

Contrary to his thoughts, however, it wasn't like that at all. Rather, the other was simply embarrassed, conscious. And he really doesn't make a good job of expressing it— of expressing how hard he's trying to keep a neutral expression in front of him, or how he can only clench his fists to restrain himself from reaching out to hold him. 

But Kunigami is no idiot. He's sure, beyond his personal feelings, that there had to be something to what Chigiri is doing now. It's not affection. But he's just not sure what. 

"Do you—" Kunigami speaks up once more. 

Do you like me? 

Chapter Text

Do you like me? 

"Do you—"

Kunigami halts, realizing he was overstepping. How could he even suggest that possibility to Chigiri, much more himself? Neither of them deserved the weight of knowing what could come after. It's not supposed to be like this. 

He blinks once, then twice, 

"—like strawberries?"

"What?" A flabbergasted response. That was unexpected of him to say, or not. However, the teen seemed to have connected the dots and went along with the shift in topic, then turning his head to him.

"You seem like the type to have a sweet tooth, with what amount of strawberries you gave me..and all."  

"Hah! Despite how I look, mr. Cyborg, I'll have you know I'm more into savory food." Chigiri responds, leaning against the couch as his frame sat comfortably on the carpet, meeting Kunigami's face who was looking down on him through his view from the couch. 

"Isn't chocolate savory though?"

"It's sweet, there's a difference."

Was there? 

Throughout the night, it would be Kunigami and Chigiri, and the clock, simply biding their time as someone munches down on the sweet, not savory, strawberries bought by another. 

"Why are you doing that?" 

"Doing what?"

"You're looking at me weird, Chigiri."

Was he? Or perhaps he was just tired. It was hard to ascertain, when all he could ascertain was his half-conscious confusion. 

It was a few moments close to midnight, and he's sure he shouldn't be intruding for so long. It wouldn't be right to Kunigami, who was so obviously too kind to send him away— despite apeparances. But what can he do? He wanted to stay here, for some reason. 

"I'm waiting for you to finish eating. There's a difference." 

"..."

The conversation dies down for awhile, before Chigiri speaks up again, shifting to lean his head against his hand, "..What happened in wildcard?"

"I don't feel like telling you." The other responds curtly, not even giving— pretending to give a single moment of thought, as if they weren't that close. As if he were just another stranger passing by. 

Perhaps it really was that late, and he really was just that tired, that Chigiri can't help but feel just the tiniest bit of hurt. The hurt that feels dull, like it didn't even mean anything to the person infront, and his heart clenches just a little bit at that. 

"..Tell me." He tries once more, grinning as he pulls himself up to sit closely beside the other, taking a piece of chocolate-covered fruit from the bowl Kunigami was holding.

"Why should I? I don't feel the need to."

"Why? Because we're..friends, why else?—"

Clench. 

That was weird. The feeling that his heart had tensed in its chest..was that normal? Perhaps he needs to get checked up, too. 

"Friends..." Kunigami responds, a dark, brooding look overcoming his face. 

"Get out."

"What?" 

"I said get out."

"But you have to return the—"

"I'll have Isagi return it tomorrow."

Chigiri, in spite himself, leaves, a disoriented frown upon his face. He doesn't get it. He shouldn't feel hurt by his words at all, it's just how Kunigami generally talks, he swears he shouldn't. And he isn't. Rather, it was his tone. He's been spoken harshly plenty of times in his life; by his teammates, his coach, Isagi, those shitty twins, Isagi. It didn't matter. So why was his heart beating like a wildfire, tugging, no, tearing at him now, when it was Kunigami? 

He wasn't just going to leave like that, or that'd be what him five minutes ago would say. Yet for some reason, he wanted out of here immediately, like somewhere, subconsciously, he was avoiding something. It couldn't have been Kunigami, he likes spending time with one of the first friends he has in Blue lock. 

Looking behind him, he catches glimpse of a solemn look upon Kunigami's face. Solemn. Only for a moment, though, when it then flashed into his usual, hostile look. An expression Chigiri never thought would ever by directed at him by him. 

Oh. 

It didn't ache because he did that. It hurt because he did that. 

That evening, Kunigami Rensuke was flooded with an influx of negative emotions fighting for first place. Negative emotions he can't quite discern the cause of. It's not like he was ever so sensitive. There's nothing wrong with being friends with Chigiri, because that's exactly what they are, friends. 

Sighing, Kunigami stared back up the ceiling. If only making eye contact with his friend were as easy. Reaching his hand out to the upper limits of the four corners of the room, he imagines the sight of Chigiri, with his fairytale smile, meeting his gaze and taking hold of his hand to lean against his caress gently, where his face would tinge with a shade of red he's absolutely sure would perfectly complement his fair complexion, conform with his vivid, red hair, as his hands would fidget through the strands, carefully undoing the familiar braid, then—

What the hell? 

He must be tired, thinking about such demeaning things about Chigiri— thinking about Chigiri. 

On the other hand, Chigiri would yet to sleep, with a bored Mikage and a call for a  tête-à-tête.

"It's not like you did anything wrong."

"Exactly. So why's he acting like I did??"

Reo nods his head, crossing his arms as he sits cross-legged. 

"'Get out,' 'I don't feel like telling you,'" Chigiri imitates and goes a tone down, scrunching his hands up in a bear-like manner. "Okay, fine! I will! You think I care??"

The confidant laughs and spends an hour or so before leaving for his own dorm, allowing the other to exhale a breath he hadn't known he was holding in. Despite the talk with Reo, he can't help but feel like he's still holding something back, a feeling as stubborn as himself. 

What was with him earlier? Acting like some pushover because of a few words from Kunigami. That wasn't like him at all. And beyond all else, he shouldn't have backed away just because of that— he's never the type to be so compliant. 

It's just Kunigami. It's just his friend whom he dearly cherishes and wishes to aid in mending the damage that resulted in his victory amid the tumultous wild card training. He should've been more understanding, of course Kunigami wouldn't want to talk about the crap he went through. Nobody does. It's just that, he'd hoped maybe he could've, for his sake. 

Pause. 

'Why would Kunigami feel the need to? There's nothing between him and I. Moreover, why would I feel the need for him to tell me, of all people?'

And at that moment, it hit him, whose face was on the road to being as crimson as his hair. Subsequently, and almost enchantingly, it was like everything had slowed down to allocate time for his pulsing heart to synchronize with the mind that wouldn't accept it. 

'No way. Absolutely no way.'

Chigiri scrambles to get up from his shikifuton, running to the bathroom, it was locked. 

"Open—-" He mutters under his breath, rattling the doorknob. 

"I'm inside." His unwilling dormmate, Hiiragi, responds. Right. He usually stayed up late. 

Chigiri could only mutter his displeasure under his breath, due to the lack of a proper venue to conduct the sensational revelation of the feelings he had yet to get ahold of. 

"How much longer??"

"I'm almost done brushing my teeth."

So half an hour to go. 

He can't possibly wait that long. So, the crimson-haired, crimson-faced teen rushes out his shared dorm, instead opting for the general lavatory of his stratum. 

Practically leaping, the sprinter reaches the bathroom, locking the door before facing himself in the mirror, hands clutching the sink's counter. 

"Are we really acknowledging this, Chigiri Hyouma?"

He talks to himself in the mirror for a good few minutes, or if not, just staring at himself quietly. 

'It's not like I'm into guys, but I'm not not into guys, either. Does that even make sense??'

'Wait, even so, what does it matter if Kunigami doesn't like guys??'

'No, this isn't about him.'

How do I really feel? 

The rational side of his mind says no, that this was merely a fleeting infatuation, an inevitable result of being confined to this facility for so long that was messing with his hormones. On the other side of things, his heart, that was beating rapidly, had as if a mind of its own; it was fate that they met here, and it was the situation that resulted to his feelings. It was that simple, that genuine.

Thus the reason why he was so on the fence regarding Kunigami's harsh tone, which, by the way, he now realizes is a ridiculous thing to get offense from— is because of affection that stemmed beyond friendship. 

"Argh, I don't care anymore, I like Kunigami Rensuke..!" He exclaims, by which was then followed by a knock on the door. 

"..Is anyone here..?"

Way to ruin the moment, were the words left unsaid by Chigiri Hyouma, who unlocked the door to meet Nagi with a disinterested expression. If it were any other, Chigiri would've cringed hard, but luckily, it was the man who couldn't care less when it came to his surroundings. Hence he strides out with a confidence you would not find out of someone who needed to talk to himself in the mirror. 

When he arrived back at his dorm, he would wait for Hiiragi to finish using the bathroom, with the purpose of having his fortune read. 

After a few more minutes, he was almost dozed off to dreamland when the door to the bathroom clicks open, Hiiragi blinking a few times to meet his gaze. After a few moments, Hiiragi looks away uneventfully, heading for his covers. 

"..Wait! Don't sleep yet!" Chigiri exclaims,  receiving a flinch from Hiiragi. 

"What is it?" A dry response from the clearly sleepy acquaintance, 

"..Could you read my fortune?" Chigiri replies, inwardly holding back on calling his roommate out for being willing to spend close to an hour inside the bathroom but seemed unwilling to give him a few moments of his guessing magic. 

"Um.."

"Great, thanks!"

Hiiragi sighs, knowing there was no helping his stubborn, often quiet roommate whose antics he's grown used to. 

"I'll go get my cards.."

Chapter Text

"Kunigami!" Chigiri's delightful voice rings out. 

The last match, between PxG and Bastard Munchen had just reached it's climax, with the latter claiming victory. And while Chigiri's team, on the other hand, didn't win any matches, he finds himself more joyful than usual. Perhaps at the realization of something worth more than numbers. 

"..." As usual, tired, gloomy eyes peered back at him, that then turned away. 

Chigiri simply grins cheekily, hastening to ride the bus next to Kunigami. "Let's sit beside each other!" He exclaims, reaching out to the other, who quickly deterred his hand and grabbed onto the person nearest. 

"..I'm sitting with glasses." He curtly responds, holding a taken-aback Yukimiya. 

That was... odd. 

Could it be? That Hiiragi's prediction was, infact, aligned with reality..?

Chigiri ended up with the lonesome Mikage, who had yet to process Nagi Seishiro's lock off. 

Yukimiya, the ever conversationer, began to talk in all manners of speech to Kunigami, who'd already shoved his headphones on. Though that didn't seem to let the other down. 

They're..close, according to the trustable perspective of Chigiri Hyouma sitting behind them. For the duration of the trip, Chigiri kept looking around, as if his focus were not solely focused on the task of glancing at the two people infront of him and picking out the little details. 

It couldn't be.

Despite himself, the crimson-haired teen finds his fists balled into fists, a certain something bubbling up within him. 

Is the world screwing with him right now? After all that resolve he'd mustered throughout the weeks? 

"..." 

This time, the silence did not come from Kunigami, nor the other blue lock players. Infact, this time, against all the erupting noises from the others, and the cheers outside, it was Chigiri who found himself holding something back. 

Holding what back? It couldn't be his feelings, he'd already come to terms with it, it couldn't be Kunigami, he'd already accepted they were both—

Chigiri's eyes zeroed in at the sight of Yukimiya, who so endearingly placed a hand on Kunigami's shoulder, talking about some nonsense he could not register in his ears. Ah, he wants to lash out right now. 

"..Chigiri," Isagi's voice, vague, turned vivid as the person in question snaps out of his thoughts. 

"What is it?"

"Let's go outside!" The usual, bright-eyed Isagi says, leading him out to the bus's roof before he knew it. Still, Chigiri's eyes would not miss how the two remained inside together. 

The cheers from the fans would not silence his throbbing heart, however. 

At their destination, Kunigami and Yukimiya walked down together, the scene hitting a nerve. 

He clenched his fists tightly, so tightly you'd think between them was the most precious thing in the world. But that wasn't the case, especially when the most precious thing in his world was holding hands with someone else. 

Just then, images from last night came gushing back;

"Two of cups."

"There's interest, there's attraction." Hiiragi explains, yawning through the sleepiness. 

"Right on the money!" exclaimed Chigiri, who's voice seemed to light up just a bit more. 

"U-huh..Should we stop here then? Let's sleep already.." 

"No, no, one more. I need more details." He says, picking up another unfolded card from the floor. 

"..."

"The moon?" Chigiri peers over the card, blinking once, then twice, before processing. "So it is love!"

"..Not quite. The moon symbolizes uncertainty. Don't get complacent Chigiri Hyouma. Interest and attraction doesn't imply a reassuring end to a mean."

"..."

The mood had visibly dwindled, clearly, Hiiragi shouldn't have dropped that bomb on him. 

"Gosh, who even believes stupid predictions? We're in the 21st century!" He yells, more to himself than Hiiragi, which only earned him a tired look, then a yawn, as if Hiiragi were to say 'you were the one who asked.'

Just as Chigiri plops down his futon, Hiiragi unfolds the last card, the darkness too heavy to make out his face as he places the card away. 

That night, red eyes lit the night's tranquil. Shuffling from his position, he pulls his blanket up, then shoves it away.

He couldn't possibly believe Hiiragi's nonsense. And in any case, it didn't mean total failure at all. Just... not certainty. 

Beyond his trepidations, Chigiri would fail to notice the eyes looking back at him. Kunigami, like the other, barely got any sleep, and in his drowsiness, found his eyes lingering on a certain someone instinctively. 

He looks sleepy, Kunigami thinks, fighting the urge to reach out and cradle his face. 

"Chigiri," He couldn't help but call out. And at that, the red-haired teen snaps out of his train of thought, eyes visibly widening as he realized how close his love had gotten. 

"H-hi." He replies simply, then shutting his eyes, feeling himself cringe at the stutter. Lord help me. 

"You look unwell, are you sick?" Kunigami's brows furrow slightly, scrutinizing every detail of him face. To which Chigiri had felt conscious of. 

'Is he worried about me..?'

"N-no, I- I'm not."

"Then get your act together." Kunigami cuts him off, before turning his back on him and walking to the venue. 

"What was that about?" Reo asks, stepping beside Chigiri, before he turns to his friend, with a face so flushed you would not tell it apart from his hair. 

"..Y-you—-" Reo looks to him, then Kunigami, then back to him, "You two—"

Chigiri covers his mouth, shaking his head. "It's not like that." He desperately manages to get out, bowing his head low as he shakes his head and makes an effort to deepen his voice to actually sound convincing. 

"..."

"You're embarrassing..."

"So are you. "

Inside the building, Ego starts some ever dramatic speech about the U-20 World cup challenge. Yet his words fall empty put beside the longing gaze Chigiri directed toward someone of the same crowd as him.

"You will all be sent out for the next few months, training to bring glory not for Japan, but to your egos..."

The next few months?? Chigiri flinches, looking to the stage. 

That's ridiculous. That would mean no interaction with his love for the next few months until the U-20 World Cup. Not to mention they, for sure, would not be placed in similar positions to talk. That's barely enough time to profess his love. 

For the next hour or so, Ego continues to blabber about Blue lock, about how far they've come and their egos. Things he'd heard from more than his own mom at this juncture. All the while he was panicking, his nerves were all over the place,

As soon as the speech was over, the crowd quickly heads for the exit, so much that he'd lose sight of the man he was watching all the while. 

His heart pounded like never before, his heart racing to the exit- much like he was in search of Kunigami Rensuke. 

"Kunigami!" He manages to choke out, reaching a desolate hallway where he was. 

This isn't the right time at all. But at this rate, there will never be the right time. Everything up to this moment were all signs the universe was trying to pry them apart. As if trying to tell him no, he's not for you. But what can he do? His heart chose to beat for the one person that could not give him the security love could offer. 

There were so many things to consider, so many things to ponder— Are relationships allowed for people like him? Is it okay he's a guy? Could he- the two of them, make it work? 

But right now, only one thing was certain; there will never be a right time until he makes it so. Love waits for no one. It's you who has to chase after it, always. 

"I like you..!"

He chokes out, despite the shortness of breath as he didn't even feel the need for a mirror to know his face was completely flushed. Whether from the running, or the words he'd just uttered, he wouldn't know.

In a few seconds, he's not even sure he said it loud enough. But that was all he had, he couldn't bring himself to say it once more even as he opens his mouth to speak. 

Ah. He's seeing two Kunigamis. And for the first time, a face other than that stern one, too. Perhaps he came on too strong? Nonetheless, it's up to fate now. 

Kunigami's lips part to speak, placing a hand on the back of his own neck timidly, apprehensively. He seemed about to say something, but dissmisses it as his hand drops to his side, looking away. 

"..I-I don't like guys."

Chapter Text

And at that moment, everything seemed to stop. Not in the way he'd wanted, no— just in a way that stepped on the very feelings he'd convinced himself were true. Was rejection ever so serious? 

Love was tender, soothing the hearts of even the unwounded. Atleast, that's what it was to Chigiri Hyouma; the soft, fuzzy feeling that flutters in your chest as a child whenever it was Christmas, inspite of the harsh snow. Inspite of anything, for that matter. Love was withstanding, independent of others' perspective, and rooted upon the faith of a happy ending, all while being a new beginning. 

If love had him feeling so horrible, it couldn't be love at all, right? 

The silence was suffocating, giving him too much time, too much space to convince himself it was simple confusion. He'd hoped, at the very least, to get some sort of emotional reaction out of Kunigami. To show him he- not as a man, but as Chigiri Hyouma had an effect on him. He saw none. 

And right now, all he sees is disdain. He was a man before another man. When did love ever become topic for discussion— much more 'like,' for people like them? He feels bugs crawling on his skin— he wants to puke, his legs trembling as he fights the urge to double down on the ground. But he doesn't. He'd made his own bed, now he has to sleep on it. 

"You don't?" He asks, with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

"..I don't." He reinforces, too blunt for the other who'd wince, as if it were another dagger stabbed inside his chest. 

"Why?" The man asks, barely recognizing his own voice as he tilts his head to the side. 

Despite the question, he could hear all the answers ringing in his head. For one, he wasn't a woman— he didn't have the heart to love a man, couldn't have. He didn't have the grace to match a man's ambition, gentle hands to welcome him after work, not even a womb to foster a family or home. 

"Why?" Kunigami returns the question, as if finding fault in justifying the question at all. Chigiri's vision blurs, all while the face of the one person he was ready to love seemed to slip away from his senses. 

"..I mean that I—-" The man manages to choke out, wanting to talk, wanting to understand. 

"Chigiri,"

From behind, a hand reaches for his wrist, pulling him back, to meet a Mikage shaking his head, 

"Stop," Reo mouths quietly, referring to the crowd that had gathered around the once quiet hallway. Murmurs surrounded the scene, finding interest in what two men could possibly have to talk about— what Kunigami Rensuke and Chigiri Hyouma could possibly talk about. 

Chigiri looks back and forth between the two, before reluctantly stepping back. He would let Kunigami roam free this time. Not for long. He's not backing down without an answer. Not without receiving an explanation as to why his heart seemed to slow down— was it the extent of his resolve? or the realization of what was never real in the first place? 

"This isn't the place for it." Reo mutters, pulling him out and away from the crowd. No explanations were spoken, actions established all thought that needed to be established. 

"I'm sorry," Chigiri finally sounds out, eyes shut as the two walked to nowhere. 

"What're you apologizing for?"

'For everything.'

'For dragging you into my own mess, despite all the things that conflicted you, too. For stepping into the role of my friend even when I completely put myself in the most humiliating positions.' were the words he meant to say, in lieu of the silence he responded with now. 

"No, I take that back. Rather, thank you, Reo. What would I do without you?"

"What happened?"

A tilt of his head. 

"You can't put on a wry smile and believe anyone would buy into it, especially with that." Reo's gaze drops down to his hands, clutched too hardly for comfort, too softly for anything serious. It was hurt, nonetheless.

Unfurling his fingers, Chigiri stares at his reddened palm, blinking once, then twice. That was always the case for him, isn't it? Always on the fence between anything. He thought he'd made up his mind. He thought he'd really liked him. Yet here he was, betraying his own resolve. He'd make one move, then stop halfway before he gets to any conclusion. In the end, he'd started his own goose-chase. 

Truthfully, he's thankful Reo pulled him out of there. He feels no regret at all. Had his arrival been prolonged any more, he's sure he would have been the one who ran away just to silence any answer Kunigami could've had. He's a hypocrite— always barked fiercer than his bite. Questioning questions he doesn't want the answer to just to make himself feel understanding. To make himself think he really tried this time. 

What was there to have resolve for? His feelings were only to appease the 'past' version of himself who was too weak to do anything— as if he were not completely the same even now. 

Even then, his kindness is rooted upon repaying favors for things done in the past. 

"I feel like shit—" Chigiri mumbles to Reo, and Kunigami to himself, as he paces out of the facility, walking elsewhere, somewhere- to dissmiss Chigiri's voice continuously ringing in his mind. 

'That was on all levels of wrong,' heart throbbing— thumping out of his chest as he clutched his hand to keep it from trembling. 

He was just confused. He? Who? Chigiri? Or him right now? 

But he meant what he had said in the moment. He did not like men. Rough, Scruffy, Conceited— Gross. But Chigiri Hyouma was not any of those. His steps were measured, with the meaning every man sought to have in his life. His attire always well-kept—crimson-hair always in immaculate condition. And he always found purpose in even the littlest things. 

He wasn't like anyone else. But he was a man. 

He could feel himself gag at the last thought. He, him, and the list went on— he never imagined scorning what he himself were. Never imagined he'd have a heart that wanted— 

no,

'want' merely suggests desire for something simple. And it's not. 'Want' describes something readily available, readily achievable. And it's definitely not what he's feeling. 

—yearned for one. 

And yet the very idea that should be paramount to his survival feels all the more foreign knowing it was directed to a man. 

He felt sick, knowing the only cure he could stomach was the idea of Chigiri as a woman. If he was, his love wouldn't be so conceited. His love wouldn't be tethered to the idea of 'gross.' 

If Chigiri Hyouma were a woman...the idea of love could not be closer to reality at first sight. He would not need another day more to come to that conclusion, could not want for any more reason to spend the rest of his life for their sake. But that couldn't be the case for people like them, is it? 

Any woman who resembled the idea of Chigiri Hyouma would not be Chigiri Hyouma. They would not embody the same resolve he'd silently adored, the 'never-say-never,' mentality, or the easygoing smile only he could make even against all odds— forged from years of adversity and love for the sport he's passionate about. 

Infact, any woman anything like Chigiri Hyouma would not have met him at all— blue lock would be missing one fundamental person. And all the same, he would not have felt anything lacking in his life. But he did meet Chigiri Hyouma. Not any version; the Chigiri Hyouma. And his heart beats for the him he could not and would not end up with in any world at all. 

Funnily enough, he imagines a future with a woman he doesn't love more realistic that a man he does. 

It leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 

'Why did he have to be a man?' knowing he could not like any woman that was similar to him the same way. 

Conflicted, Kunigami shuts his eyes, sighing, before he finally comes to, realizing he's right in the middle of the street by cars' blaring and beeping, urging him out the fucking way. With rambled apologies, he stumbles to the sidewalk, flinching when he catches sight of a woman with crimson hair. He could almost be knocked over by a feather, had she not have turned around. And the man, changing tunes as if having ice water in his veins, did not turn a hair. Only staring, silenty, the odd feeling Greek to him.

However this wasn't between Scylla and Charydbis. This was between the truth that he will never love a man while being haunted by the thought of one. Haunted by the thought of all the possibilities of a future that couldn't be in this one. 

All while wishing, longing, hoping that maybe, somewhere in the distant future, when all this confusion has lifted, love wouldn't be such a bitter pill to swallow.