71. ENGLAND, AND LITTLE KYOUKA

note: the omake is so h*mosexual but like idk i couldn't not put it in guys.... i think its in character??/ sort of??? kaiser is just like really homo like that

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KURONA

Ranze slips off his jacket. You offer to take it, and he gives it to you with a sharp smile. Walking down these halls feels much more intense than you had expected—however, it is hard to not feel tense when a whole new team with whole new people is right across these halls.

It is hard to not feel tense when Kyouka is acting all weird around you for whatever reason—and you can hardly talk to her without feeling so uncomfortable that you wish to leave.

To distract yourself from such thoughts, you decide to try and strike up a conversation. The person closest to you...

"Are you nervous, Yukimiya?" You tilt your head upwards at the wavy-haired brunette. His sports glasses cover the bright amber of his eyes—but you can see clearly that his brows raise at your sudden voice. You clasp your hand behind your back and stare forward. "I think I am."

"Why?" He intentionally dodges your question—you note—and simply proceeds to ask one of his own. It is a good question. Why are you nervous? It's not like you're playing. You don't really have anything to lose. You'll still have a job at Blue Lock. You'll probably be fine.

You do not even spare him a glance as you speak—yet, you smile while staring into the bright light that encompasses the room in front of you. "Didn't I tell you before? It's kind of scary thinking about watching you all lose... because I want to see you win, more than anything."

He doesn't respond.

"It's a childish thought... but it would be nice if none of you ever lost." You place your hand over your mouth in an effort to hide the way you chuckle. "Stupid, right? It shouldn't matter that much to me, huh?"

He looks away from you, and his silence brings you to stare at his face. His brows are slightly furrowed and he looks really damn concentrated—it's absurdly easy to lose your senses of the world around you in favour of staring at him in awe. "No... it sounds... That is nice. To have somebody believe in me feels..."

He coughs into a balled fist. "Thanks, [name]."

You smile. "It's nothing."

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"There you are..."

"Germany."

"We're going to crush you... Isagi."

Just as always, you think, Isagi has too many cutthroat rivals for his own good. The thought makes you snicker.

Walking into the field feels like an outer-world experience—seeing all your friends gathered here is something you had not realised you missed. You walk up with Isagi towards the middle of the field—towards Nagi, Reo, and Chigiri.

"Hey there, congrats on being chosen as regulars." Isagi waves a little with a small, coy grin—despite his generally friendly demeanour, it seems his infamous reputation on the field still lingers within people's minds—key: they do not take his words so kindly.

Nagi raises a brow with a small scoff—more emotion than you've seen him show in a good while, "Look at who's all high and mighty."

Reo snickers, "As expected from the guy who's got a 17 million salary." Even as Isagi frantically tells the heir that he does not care about the money—Reo only laughs even harder, "Oh, you love it! 17 million is the same as a board member in some big company!"

"Leave it you, Reo, to compare that to some office job," you clutch the notebook under your arm with a knowing grin. The purple head gives you a grin and a thumbs up as if saying—"you know it!"

Out of nowhere—a toned arm is slung around both your shoulders and a gloved hand rests atop your upper arm. Looking to the side, you see the pretty face that belongs to Chigiri, who's looking down at you with a small smirk tugging at his lips, "Says you. If there was a contest for making shitty metaphors, you'd strike gold."

You place your hand on his chest and shove him away lightly—as expected, he does not budge an inch. You roll your eyes but your smile does not falter, "That's really funny, princess."

The stink eye he sends you makes you stifle a small laugh. However—the tickle of his long pink hair on your arm is soon removed and soon follows his arm—it's forcefully knocked off by none other than Nagi Seishiro. Chigiri looks into those void-like eyes with surprise-surprise soon turns into mild annoyance in a show of squinted eyes and furrowed brows.

Nagi slings himself to your side, as he always does whenever he sees you—no matter how recent the last time was, he keeps this unofficial tradition up every time without fail-"Hey, [name]... Missed you. You should've joined our team."

"I know," your free hand finds its way up to his snow-white locks. They're softer than you remember. The ends feel freshly cut. You heard his coach was a stickler for having good looks—so perhaps this was a result of that. You certainly don't have any complaints. "If you want, I'll visit you all after this game."

Nagi peers down at you—now eye-level from how he slouches his back—with unblinking, big black eyes, "... Fine. But... pay attention to me, okay?"

Still as unabashed and witless as always—Nagi Seishiro is completely unashamed in asking for your attention and for this reason you can never find it within yourself to deny him of such a simple luxury. "Okay."

Still, there is a gnawing feeling in the back of your stomach—it grows especially noticeable when you catch Reo walking over to where Kunigami stands, far away from how everyone else is gathered around the midfield.

"You sure went through a lot, Kunigami. I watched the whole thing... so, Wild Card was trying to make a vessel for a Noel Noa copy?"

Right. Wild Card. You stormed into Ego's office a few days ago and demanded an explanation when you first heard the term—a couple of shocked gasps and guilty looks from Anri later, you were fully caught up on the whole situation. The thought of it made you sick to your stomach, but the camera footage was even worse.

You try not to think about it if only for the sake of your own well-being. Perhaps this is why you face such refusal within yourself to give up on this fallen hero—or maybe it's a little more personal than you'd like to believe.

No matter the reason—the truth still stands right here in front of you.

"We both lost to Shidou on the second selection and were both just as close to dying on that day."

You'd almost forgotten. This fact makes your stomach swirl. Perhaps you are the bad person—getting all chummy with the demon that sent your friend (could you even call him that, anymore?) down to hell. The recollection of the events that happened on the bus makes your chest start to hurt. You don't want to think about that, either.

Reo turns on his heel and it makes an eerie squeaking sound on the faux grass. "I'm glad you're back, and I'm glad we can fight again."

"True that." Chigiri replaces Reo as the one talking to Kunigami—yet without that softer tone that Reo sported, Chigiri looks Kunigami dead in the eye without a hint of sorrow. "I know that the way you see it, you're all changed and all that edge-lord shit..."

He slips his glove onto his hand and stares down the yellow-blonde, "But as far as I care, I'll fight as if I'm still facing the same old you that I knew."

There is a stark silence that surrounds you all for a moment. A terrifying, gross moment-until Kunigami, surprisingly, breaks it, with a roughly-edged voice that is far deeper than you remember—"You'd better let go of that idea... you sheltered little princess."

His words are unkind. He turns his back on his former friend and walks away—and yet, Chigiri is so unlike you, because he can still smile. He can challenge his former friend and his new ideals with that same grin as if nothing had changed, "Keep talking. I'll be sure to wake you up, cynic hero."

A frown pulls taut at your lips. Nagi's removed his leech-like status of being latched onto you and only stares at your miserable expression with an unreadable expression. In spite of this—Reo places a hand on your shoulder.

You're a little surprised by this action—really, you were never the closest person to the purple-headed heir—but you appreciate the menial comfort the words following this action give.

"Don't worry too much about him. If you fret too much about the people around you, you'll have no time for yourself."

A strange sense of deja vu fills your senses when he says those words. You have a fleeting thought that maybe, Reo has been thinking about your words, too—but it passes as soon as it forms because you're quickly instructed to come sit on the sidelines, as the game is soon to begin.

The whistle rings in your ear and your brain is completely void of that advice.

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—OMAKE:

Isagi Yoichi hates Micheal Kaiser with his entire being. This is not new information. Practically every being, dead or alive, should be automatically aware of this fact. Nobody strikes a nerve within Isagi as Kaiser does—not Shidou, not Rin, not even Barou—Kaiser is just the most terrible person on this planet.

Isagi is convinced that Kaiser would do anything if only to make his life more miserable. He doesn't really know what kind of grudge the blonde holds against him—but it is certainly getting old, and fast. Everything Kaiser does annoys the Japanese striker—especially when Kaiser decides to get all up and comfy with you.

However—this is something he did not expect. Kaiser's finger is shoved into Isagi's face, a cocky, sly smirk on his lips as he peers down at him. Ness is behind him—as always—and peeking his head out over his owner's shoulder (his smile is as pleasantly creepy as always, Isagi notes).

Kaiser strikes a dramatic pose with a hand on his hip before he speaks, voice as grand with pure egoism as always, "Yoichi. Don't disappoint me now—you are a regular. Passing the ball to somebody else won't just cut it, you know? It's either me or nothing."

Isagi gives him the most judgemental stink-eye he can possibly manage, "Whatever. I'll never bow down to you, shitty emperor. We both know that."

Kaiser smiles. It feels a little too forced it shows a little too much of his teeth. It makes Isagi viscerally uncomfortable. "I'm well aware. That is why... if you refuse to bow down to me—you should be able to prove yourself better, no? If you cannot... you are just an unruly subject who does not have enough power to back up his words. You aren't worthy of anything."

... What?

"What are you trying to say?" Isagi scrutinizes the German man with his gaze, brows furrowed deeply and lips pulled taut downwards—like he is trying to discover the hidden meaning behind his words.

"If you cannot prove yourself better, then there is no reason for her to believe in you."

By her, there are only two options. The first option is that blonde woman who is always by your side. Isagi has not once spoken with her outside of training—no shot that she quote unquote, believes in him. The second option looks far more likely.

"... [name]?" Even Isagi did not expect this. Not once have you ever been mentioned within a match, nor had Isagi really given you much thought during a match, ever. You are an entity that forever existed outside the field and it seemed it would forever stay that way—at least, until now. "What does she have to do with anything?"

The smile Kaiser has plastered on his face makes a vein Isagi does not know the name of pulse out of the side of his head and grits his teeth, hard. "Yoichi—you should do well to know your place as a dirty thief. [name] is my love interest—but it seems that in a twist of fate, the damsel wound up placing her care in a filthy criminal."

Is this guy seriously all right in the head? No fucking way.

Kaiser jots his thumb toward Isagi, nearly poking at his chest—he would've if he did not take a big step backwards—"So, prove yourself, you filthy thief. Defeat me, command me to step aside—show me, Yoichi Isagi, that you are worthier than I to rescue her."

It was as if all time froze like shattering ice at this moment. What... the hell? What is he... Isagi sneers, brows pointed downwards and eyes squinted with a striking glare, "Fuck you. I don't need to show you anything. I don't care about being worthy or not—all you need to know is that your illiterate theatre fantasy is bullshit."

If this were a cliche comedy show, then the words Isagi were spitting at him would've bounced off of Kaiser like he was wearing a bulletproof vest. The blonde grins, wide, "Then, you just wait, Yoichi. Before you know it..."

Frost seeps out of the corner of Kaiser's mouth from how cold his silver tongue is. Isagi felt a shiver flicking down his spine when the blonde leaned in closer, eyes staring into his intensely and unblinking, "I'll have taken everything from you, including your sweet manager."

Isagi doesn't believe he could've mistaken the dead seriousness in Kaiser's voice for anything else.

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