3. in those eyes (a depth you'll have to discover)

Kurama has to move on from Hakuren.

Gemini Storm is defeated. Kurama pays back his debt and sets off for Okinawa, where he thinks he'll get closer to a point where he'll be able to go home.

(Someone arrives.)

-

-

-

Kurama isn't the first player he's known to lose arm mobility.

Coach Kidou told them before of Genda Koujirou, Teikoku's former goalkeeper. After an incident regarding forbidden hissatsu techniques, his arms were permanently shattered in the wrong places, and he could no longer play soccer as he wanted.

They've all seen the surgical scars when the man came over to visit Raimon.

Under skin, metal nails and steel braces screwed his elbows in place, and he apparently even had difficulty doing anything beyond writing. He couldn't lift heavy objects, and there was that eternal stiffness that was hard to miss.

Kurama's situation isn't nearly as dire, but it remains true that there's no real cure to it. Maybe a nerve transplant... but who knows, Kurama isn't a professional.

He can still put force into his arm and hold up a boy to teach him how to skate. But he can't hold his spoon firm enough to drink his soup.

His other hand doesn't have enough movable fingers to hold up a whole bowl without help from his other hand, so after a few spilled bowls, a very shaky dinner, and a few wardrobe changes, Kurama officially hates soup.

One of the Hakuren players gives him their old winter coat (because they change them around every so often and this one doesn't fit anymore, so have it, they said.) The trend continued and now Kurama has two decent sets of clothing (though they're second-hand and a little worn, they're good and he appreciates it a lot.)

His current plan is to regain his energy, then make his way to Okinawa to the interruption point. If that fails... then he'll decide again when the time comes.

-

"Kurama-senpai!" Tenma had come up to them cheerfully, holding Fei's hand (the bunny boy looks incredibly reluctant, he's kinda scared of Minamisawa) with Wondeba trailing a few paces behind them.

It was during the Nationals, at the Pinball Stadium.

Kurama and Minamisawa were just on their way back from the infirmary (because Sangoku got socked in the face by the goshdarn accelerator system again) when Tenma showed up, eyes twinkling in every possible means of a bad idea.

"So so so, we were talking and–" Tenma sounded so ecstatic about it, Kurama's fight-or-flight instinct made him want to say no without hearing it through.

Minamisawa said it first, "whatever you're thinking, no."

And Tenma made a whining sound, "I didn't even finish!" He turned around and dramatically hugged Fei, sobbing something indiscernible.

Kurama wanted to punch him in the head. Minamisawa set a hand at his hip, equally unimpressed.

"Come to think of it, he knocked his head against the bumper, didn't he?"

"No wonder he's gone bonkers."

Fei laughed nervously, patting Tenma's head. "Now, now, senpai," he assured them, "Tenma just wanted to ask if you two wanted to try Miximaxing with each other."

And the two blinked, a little surprised.

"Miximax..." Minamisawa spoke up first, "you mean the dramatic hair-changing powerup thing you guys always do?"

"Yeah," Fei gestured at Wondeba, who already had the guns out, "they tend to work better among people with good synergy-- like Shindou and Kirino, or Tsurugi and his brother. Since you two are really strong strikers on your own, we're wondering what could come out of it."

Minamisawa and Kurama shared a glance.

-

Everyone runs to the hall when they hear a yelp of pain.

They find Kurama, a crumpled ball, holding his wrist, face contorted in agony.

After a whole fury of panic, an ice pack, and maybe a few flustered shouts of random names, Kurama finds himself laying facedown on the sofa, his right hand extended outwards and resting on a stool beside him.

"What were you trying to do?" Fubuki asks, slightly amused. Kurama's never caused trouble before, so what brought this on?

The boy lifts his head slightly with a groan.

"A handstand," he says.

And everyone either facepalms, throws their hands into the air, or stands there stunned in disbelief.

"It's important, okay?!" he whines.

And Kazemaru, god bless Kazemaru, actually snaps at him. "Your wrist is in no state to be doing stupid things like that! Are you dumb? Is that it?!"

From how everyone, including Kidou, reflectively shot back appalled, this is definitely not a normal occurrence.

"Now, now Kazemaru--"

"Endou! You get no room to talk! You're the one that punched a tire with a sprained finger because you hadn't seen the tire in two weeks or something!"

"He did what ?!"

For some reason, the situation escalates to a scolding Endou festival, and Kurama moves himself up to a sitting position, holding his throbbing wrist as the pain dies down.

He doesn't see them well. Is that Kazemaru? He sounds so much like Kirino, when Tenma runs his feet full of blisters and Shinsuke scars his hands in practice. There's the same sharp, but so worried tone in his voice-- and for a moment Kurama is there , with the rest of Raimon, his Raimon.

He wants to smile, but he just scowls, and in a moment he has to wipe a tear from his eyes. He buries his face into the pillow under him, and he sighs.

Oh, he's done it. Now he misses them.

He sits up, keeping the ice pack on his wrist, The pain's died down, but they're staring at him warily in case he tries anything again.

(It's different, but so, so similar.)

It smells like it, feels like it-- but this, this, whatever this is, isn't home.

Kurama can't let himself get too cozy here.

-

Gemini Storm loses against Raimon.

Reize despairs over his loss, but before anything else can happen, he sets his purple soccer ball on the ground and sends it soaring for the school building.

"As if I'll let it end like this!"

"No! The school!"

For a moment of horror, everyone gasps, some running hopelessly toward the building, even knowing they'd never get there in time.

Someone covers their eyes, unable to bear it. They've seen the state of buildings crushed by the Aliea attacks. Was their school going to end up like that, too?

" Side-- "

A figure cuts into the scene, feet lifted to receive the shot. It takes a painful moment and a soft grunt, but the purple orb morphs , purple energy eaten in by green and growing into a large spiral of energy.

"--winder!!"

Then he sends it back, swerving to his other side and hurtling another kick at it with his other leg.

"Go!" he roars, like a command.

And the serpent conjures to life, dancing with the ball for a spin before it charges forward, bringing with it the force of a mighty beast.

The ball cuts through the field, slicing through the air-- and hits the goal post.

Standing before the school building, Kurama straightens with a breath out. There's a bated authority in his posture, and from how everyone looks at him, it's as if they've witnessed some sort of miracle.

They're all in awe, jaws agape.

And among them, only Konko finds her voice.

"...Kurama-kun?"

-

"So you play soccer as well," Kidou observes. "You could deflect that ball... are you sure you're not an alien?"

And Kurama throws his hands up in defeat, "goodness! I absolutely hope I'm not," he says, sarcasm seeping through his tone, "I wore a skintight jersey once and I absolutely hated it. If I'm an alien do I have to start styling my hair upwards? That seemed to be the trend in about half of them."

"Dude--"

"Oh gimme a sec, I think I can grow a pair of antennae if I try hard enough."

"Okay, okay! We get it, we're sorry for accusing you!" Kazemaru cuts in hastily before Kidou bursts a vein trying not to scream.

(Endou ushers Kidou to the side, and he and Haruna take turns trying to convince him the world is still pretty. Kidou has his arms crossed and he's pouting, probably plotting a way to commit homicide without getting caught.)

"Endou and I saw him practicing last night," Kazemaru turns to the rest, "he's a good player, that much is certain."

Then Konko and a few others from Hakuren run up to him, engulfing him in a hug.

"Thanks for saving our school, Kurama-kun!" Konko cries in gratitude. Even Fubuki echoes the thanks, bowing slightly.

"It was a magnificent shot."

Kurama tries not to flush at the praise. He turns aside, "I was just repaying the favour I owed you guys," he says, trying to get the slobber kid off him, "it was nothing."

(It's nothing compared to trying to shoot back a Strike Mode ball from El Dorado, so...)

"It was nothing, you say..." Kazemaru gapes at him, slightly taken aback, "even Endou couldn't defend against it until recently, you know?"

Kurama shrugs.

"I think he's really an alien..." Kurimatsu mutters.

Kurama howls a lion-like roar at him, teeth bared and arms positioned like claws. The chestnut head runs off screaming.

Kurama looks away when Endou gives him a disapproving look.

-

"So what are you guys planning on doing from now? Going to fight aliens again?" Kurama asks them when they pack up for their trip home.

"If they continue destroying schools, of course we'll have to fight them!" Endou says, determined.

Kurama laughs a little at that.

"Hey," Endou speaks up a moment later, and Kurama turns to see him staring with a hopeful look in his eyes. "If you want to... you could join us."

There's a pause, then the other Raimon members blow up with their disapproval. Evidently, they aren't in favour of the rude kid joining their ranks on a random whim.

Kidou has a hand at Endou's collar, and someone's crying back there.

Kurama can't help but look at the scene fondly. But he shakes his head. He can't let himself be dragged into nostalgia now. Not anymore. It's a waste of time.

"This isn't my fight," he tells them. "It's yours."

"It's the fight of the entire soccer world!" Endou corrects him quickly, and Kurama pauses, dumbfounded.

But not his world. There's a lot Kurama can say-- he doesn't want to risk his life along with his already injured spine. This is a fight Raimon chose to take-- Raimon should be the one to deal with it.

Instead Kurama laughs, good-natured but brimming with sarcasm. "I think I've dealt with enough alien invasions for a lifetime, really. I'm fine sitting this one out." And he waves them off, dismissive.

The incredulous looks he gets from them is worth it.

"Plus, I can't stay in one place for too long." Or I'll cause a big time rift, somehow . He waves, making his way back toward the dorms, "I need to find my way home, anyways. You guys can go fight your own aliens."

They watch him walk away, not a voice of protest.

Then Endou smiles. "Hey, Kurama!" he hollers, and Kurama turns around. Endou grins, "One of these days, let's play soccer together!"

For a moment, Kurama just looks like he was punched in the face. His expressions are a mixture of surprise and shock, and just a tinge of pain.

With a voice that sounds like he's crying, he smiles the saddest any of them had ever seen, and he says, "yeah, sure."

-

"Kurama-senpai!"

When the space team got home from their Grand Celestia Galaxy or whatever, one of the first things Tenma did was make rounds to hug everyone he saw.

"OFF!! Get him off me!" Kurama screeched when the boy-- and Shinsuke, the pair of absolute devils-- latched onto him, crying his name and something about how much they missed everyone. "TSURUGI! Get your gremlins away from me!!"

Kurama was too busy screaming bloody murder to properly express his relief about their victory, but it wasn't necessary. They all raided Shindou's house after that and they partied into the morning.

"Let's play soccer tomorrow, Kurama-senpai!" those idiots were droning on about how the excitement prevailed their exhaustion. "Together!"

"HUH?!" Kurama sneered at him, "you STILL want to play?!"

Of course, Kirino made sure they slept until late into the evening the next day. These annoying juniors were absolute babies that shouldn't be playing soccer immediately after literally fighting a war in space.

He still remembered angrily dragging a mound of guest blankets from the closets as the huge group of morons just snored, sprawled around the living room like conked-out puppies.

Shinsuke and Tenma were out the longest, wrapped in bandages, curled into each other with Tetsukado's foot, Ibuki's arm, and a soccer ball somewhere in the equation.

Half of them were asleep on anything that was to some degree horizontal, including the table, the railing of the stairs, and human bodies. Matatagi invited his brothers over and they were stacked over Kusaka like a hasty snowman.

Konoha had somehow ended up on top of the fridge, like a cat.

It was sunrise by the time they managed to coax her down in her half-asleep haze and convince her that sleeping with Sakura and Aoi was a much preferable hibernation option.

After all that, Kurama sat at the side with Sangoku, Kirino and Akane. They watched their juniors sleep, their shoulders at ease with earthbound relief.

Kurama really, really missed them. All of them.

-

The day after the Inazuma Caravan leaves, Kurama leaves, too.

With a bag (one of the worn-out duffel bags in the club's store rooms) packed with living essentials and some clothes, Kurama got ready to depart from Hakuren Junior High's benevolent hospitality.

"I really can't thank you guys enough," he tells them, bowing down low.

"You've repaid us in full when you protected our school for us, Kurama-kun," Sorano assures him. "Don't mind it!"

"Good luck on your journey, Kurama-kun!"

"Don't get lost!"

"Don't get caught by the Child Protection Services either."

"And of course, don't freeze to death."

Kurama sighs as they barrel him with floods of warnings they've already given to him many times before. He's got them all in his head by now, really.

"Y'know, Kurama-kun, you're always welcome here," Konko holds his hand, beaming up at him with the purity of an angel. "So if anything ever happens, just come to us, okay? We'll be on your side. Always."

Kurama's smile is shaky.

No, no, it's not very Kurama to be moved by sentimental words. It isn't. It isn't. It--

"Kurama-kun, are you crying?"

Kurama shoots back, arm at his face. "m'NOT!!"

"He is!" Konko squeals, "guys, look! Coach, coach! Get the camera!"

In a few minutes, everyone is crying, Kurama is pulling someone's cheeks, and their laughter is coated with tears. It's cold, but so warm.

They take a group picture with Kurama in the center, and they hang it up on the clubroom wall as a memory. To commemorate the ridiculous incident as something to pass down in stories.

It's only after the picture is taken that Kurama wonders if he should've let it happen. Ten years down the road, he'll find that picture and people would be convinced that he was a... time traveler... or something...

...is this how all those memes started?

Kurama gives one last bow to the school building, then he turns around and walks away. He doesn't once look back.

-

It's a long, fifteen-hour overnight train ride to Kyushu. Then he'll have to think of how to get on the ferry to Okinawa.

He doesn't have a passport for a flight, so this was the next best option.

It's amazing that Coach Takayama was benevolent enough to foot the bill for all of this. He's not sure if he wants to know how to repay them in the future. The guilt of it all was already crushing him enough.

He's not even in college yet and somehow he's neck deep in debt. The hospital, the Raimon fellows, and now the Hakuren fellows too. Oh, this sucks.

Enough, enough. No more moping. He's got fifteen hours to do nothing.

He closes his eyes, breathing slowly in and out. It takes a while for him to find a comfortable position. It takes another while for him to clear his head enough to sink in.

(And when he opens his eyes–)

(--maybe, hopefully, this will all be a dream.)

-

The world isn't a dream, but he does get one.

It's less of a dream as it is sleep paralysis in a drifting consciousness in the depths of his own mind.

Kurama opens his eyes to six more, staring right back at him. He doesn't jump, but he sure as hell sucks in a breath and tries not to yelp .

The looming figure towers over him– three faces all fixated on just one of him.

( Asura , he thinks but he can't say.)

And he breathes out– calming himself. He takes a breath, and look up again.

For a long, quiet moment, neither of them do a thing. Kurama wanted to reach out– but he couldn't move. Asura was never one to reach out, so they just inspecte him.

Kurama could feel it– those faces were stuck in their permanent, apathetic expressions– but he knew that they were filled with consideration.

(Are you disappointed in me?)

(The Hunter of Glory, Asura, only wished for the most devout, the most wrathful, the most prideful. That's why he's Kurama's Keshin. They're both consumed by an insatiable desire for power– they're both devoured by the demons of envy.)

(Are you scolding me? For being such a burden.)

Kurama could think all day and never get closer. He wasn't the kind that got through his struggles by thinking deeply about them– that was more Kirino's thing.

He will not apologize.

( Just wait there, it's a demand, not a request, because Asura will not be the spirit of someone who bows his head in weakness. I'll be back when I'm stronger. )

He doesn't think much of it, but the grunt that Asura gives him might have been of approval.

-

Hitchhiking is easier than he'd thought it would be.

Getting onto the ferry with the money Coach Takayama gave him was also decently easy enough. It was almost too easy, albeit the scorching summer heat brought horrendous discomfort to his shoulder brace.

He was drenched in sweat, even after he's down to just a tank top and shorts. He didn't trust himself to take off his braces, so they were going to have to stay on. This sucked.

Hopefully this plan would be worth it, because Kurama really didn't have anything else. He was going to be out of money soon, so it was hard to imagine he'd be able to survive for long alone. It wasn't like they had their caravan or Wondeba around, after all.

(Alright, stop worrying.)

He settles by the side of the boat, looking out toward the sea.

He can't remember the last time he's seen the sea. Maybe it was when they went to Okinawa for a practice match with Oumihara. Sakura was there as a member, and he remembered talking to Aoi about how everyone in their team was so surprised that Sakura was a pleasant person to team with.

If they made it to FFI, then they would have definitely taken a boat to an adjacent island, too. It would have been nice. Minamisawa would have been there.

They would all be together.

(He can't keep mulling like this.)

Ahh, he's so homesick. Maybe he should work on his arm rehabilitation to get his mind off things for now.

-

"The ship will be arriving at Okinawa Island. Thank you for riding with us."

Kurama hurried right out as soon as possible. He only had one duffle bag of supplies, so it was easy to get around. First thing he'll have to do is find out the specifics.

He's been here before. Only once, but that's all he has to go on.

He remembers Oumihara and Tenma showing them around the area when they came for their practice match. They even stayed over at Tenma's old house.

Tenma didn't say where exactly he met Gouenji that time, but he did say they were out by a beach area, and it was a place with construction or loose limber. That should narrow it down quite a bit if he–

"Ack, hey!"

Kurama yelps, bumping right into someone while he's lost in thought. The older boy nearly drops his can of soda, but he catches it in time.

"That was dangerous," he says.

Kurama lifts his head, "ah, yes. I'm sorry–" he stops short.

Tsunami Jousuke's looking back at him, shirtless, hair damp, looking fresh from a surf. He even had his huge surfboard under his arm.

"Well, just be careful," he says, then he grins, "lucky none of my soda dropped on ya, huh? That'd have been awful!"

"Ah, yes... wait, I'm not that short!" he snaps. Come to think of it, Kurama's much older! Like, even now he's– probably junior high second year? Ugh, Tsunami's a year older still. It's so damn weird to be physically the same age as Endou Mamoru.

Tsunami laughs. "Bye then, kid!"

"I'm not a kid!"

The man walks away before Kurama gets another word in edgewise.

(But alright, at least he's got the right place. That guy was really close to Tenma when they were young, apparently, so if he followed him long enough, he'll get to there .)

(To the most important moment in Tenma's entire soccer career.)

(And where, hopefully, Fei will notice him.)

He fixes an eye on Tsunami, hand clenched around the strap of his bag.

(He has to find it.)

-

It's not difficult to find a place to sleep. A quiet hut in the corner of the beach, a park bench– as long as the police don't find and take him in for questioning, he'll be fine.

The nights are cold, but that's what he's got all these extra clothes for.

He manages to unlatch his back brace for some reprieve, laying it on the back of the bench for some air.

It no longer hurt, but he could immediately tell how much it had been helping– It was a little harder now to move his arms into a comfortable resting position, and his fingers trembled.

He managed to find the school, and Tenma's old house– thank goodness most of the roads were still the same– but the location was a bit tougher to pin down. Maybe he should find a proper city map tomorrow and–

"Hey, it's getting pretty late. What's a kid doing out here alone?"

Kurama curses. Not out loud, but immediately he stands up, reaching for his things and hurried to pack them up–

"Hey hey, no need to be so alarmed. I'm not going to arrest you or anything."

Kurama looks to the side– and he doesn't exactly know him, but he recognizes him from pictures, passing mentions, and one faraway glance.

Hijikata Raiden. He's a member of Inazuma Japan.

(Damn he does not look like a ninth grader.)

There are kids by his side. Four of them. Kurama dreads the mere idea of children, especially if they're looking at him with eyes of sheer interest.

They were evidently on their way home from– ah, grocery bags. The supermarket, then– and were only calling out to Kurama out of curiosity.

"Ah, then," Kurama turns back around defensively, "if you're not after me, that's great." He feigns a confident smile. "What I do's none of your business."

See, he's so rude. He's an insufferable prick of a delinquent. N ow, please leave me alone I beg of you.

Hijikata actually laughs . "You run away from home or something, kid?"

Kurama clicks his tongue. "Fuck off already, mister."

"M- Mister?!" Hijikata sputters. "I'm not that old! And watch your mouth around the kids, would you!"

"An-chan, what's–" Hijikata hurriedly shushes his brother before he'd repeated that terrible, awful, horrendous word.

Kurama stuffs the jacket he was using as a blanket back into his things, picking up his back brace and hefting up the bag with some effort.

Putting strength into his shoulder without the brace was a strain. Good to know.

"Hey, I don't really care what's happening with you, but I can't just let a kid stay out here in the cold," Hijikata says. "Have you even eaten dinner yet?"

"What are you, a mom ?" Kurama snarls. "Just go away!"

Hijikata sighs.

And then, "go get him, kids."

Four at once, the children saluted with a chorus of "Aye, An-chan!" and blitzed right through, two at Kurama's feet and the one that jumped onto his back made him immediately crumple with a pained whine.

"Got him!"

"Good, let's bring him home," Hijikata says.

With one child sitting on his very fragile back, he couldn't get any strength out to even get up. Kurama cursed out loud this time, because he swears to actual fuck he's going to murder these brats later.

-

"What the– Gouenji Shuuya?!"

For some reason, the famed ace striker of Raimon Junior High was in the Hijikata Estate. Damn, what was Kurama even struggling for? Hijikata brought him right into a crucial lead without even trying.

Gouenji hurried to throw his hood over his face, and Kurama balks. Right, he's currently not playing soccer or something.

"What, you know each other?" Hijikata asks.

"No," Kurama says. "I've just heard of you. You're famous, after all."

(That, and your friends told me a whole lot about you when I was up in Hokkaido. I was trying to avoid more of you morons but you guys keep coming right at me.)

"Who's he?" Gouenji asks.

"A homeless kid I found outside," Hijikata says, like that's Tuesday. "Get along now."

"I want to leave," Kurama immediately says.

"Then go," Hijikata says, as a challenge.

The kids are still rummaging through his duffel bag. Kurama will die before leaving with none of that.

"Fuck you," Kurama says.

"Watch that mouth, child!"

Oh that does it. "For fuck's sake, I am–" seventeen, " fourteen years old already, stop calling me a child!"

"You are what?!" this response comes from all of them, even the actual kids in the room. Gouenji had this flabbergasted expression on as he whirls around in confusion.

"But you're tiny?!" the kids gawk, like they weren't tinier.

"You're my age?!" Gouenji asks, disbelieving.

Kurama will commit homicide one day. He swears.

-

-

-

Kyan Rinka, member and midfielder of Oumihara Soccer Club, sighs, standing outside the Okinawa lighthouse.

She'd been collecting seashells and lost track of time. She might as well spend the night here in the lighthouse, it wasn't like it would be the first time she did this.

There were dangerous aliens in the country, but that wasn't a problem. The school was right opposite, and the Girls Gymnastics Team were having drill camp today. Plus, the residents of the beach houses along the shore kept track of her. She would be fine, it's not like she's scared of being alone or anything–

A swirling light catches her eyes and she lifts her head. It's blinding, far more blinding than she'd thought it was– it's gone when she squints, and the world becomes night once more.

She thinks she imagined it– but seconds later, something plunged into the waters right before her, the shores shattering upward like an eruption.

It settles, and Rinka was filled with fear.

Something– whatever it was– had dived into the lake. It came in a flash of light, and now it was too dark to make out what it was.

No one would ever believe her.

She quickly hustled on her flashlight, looking down to the lake from her ledge.

Something was in there. Something that hopefully wasn't an alien that would kill her; she's not in a horror movie, right? She's not going to be the first kill of the night, let's pray.

"K-achk!" there's a choke, a sharp breath of air– and a string of coughs, violent and panicked. "Ah... what... water?"

Rinka jumps.

Quickly, she points the flashlight at it– it doesn't turn around, but that was because it was disoriented, and facing the wrong way.

A small figure, clambering to the shallows– little and covered in seaweed and algae and sand. Under it she could make out a T-shirt and shorts, and football shoes. At first glance, she didn't recognize the colours– but wasn't that a jersey? There was a number.

"...I'm somewhere else again," it chokes out, breathily. "Where–"

It began to swirl its head around, trying to gain its bearings– but Rinka was frozen in place. She knows what it is now.

"Who–"

It finally looks at her.

It's a humanoid– a human boy. Small, just like her, maybe smaller. But she knew better than to think so. If the news on TV regarding all the indiscriminate terrorist attacks have been clear enough, that's definitely an alien.

Rinka does the logical thing and screams as loudly as she can.