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25 RUNNING DEEP


25. RUNNING DEEP

note: bet u guys won't be able to guess who the first kiss will be with. lol.



*⋆。˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆。°✩



YOU

might have rabies. You're practically foaming at the mouth and you promptly passed out (you actually didn't, you just like the dramatic effect the phrase brings) five minutes before. After hearing the news of how Isagi Nagi and Barou had challenged Kyouka's team to a match (once again, without consultation) you nearly fainted. Reo, Kunigami, and Chigiri... Are they serious?!

After regaining your soul that had tried to escape from your mouth, you finally gathered up what little left of your composure you still owned, and overviewed their training.

You watched the timer on the large, white screen go down second by second, minute by minute... 

You sit down with your legs folded, in a small, makeshift group circle alongside your teammates. Your notebook rests on your lap, and your pen is limp in your palm. You're sitting between Isagi and Barou—in a poor attempt to stop fighting. Isagi takes a swig from his water bottle, then hands it back to you with a small thanks before speaking, "We'll pass it around so it's easy for Barou to move. If the situation allows, Nagi and I will break them down with our link-up play. We'll be flexible about who shoots."

"Okay then," Nagi rests backwards on the faux grass, one hand propped behind him and the other threaded through his snow-white hair, "Feels like I'll be doing a lot of the scoring."

"Hey, make sure you pass me the ball," Barou resumes his death glare at Nagi. Nagi, with a deadpan expression, retorts at Barou.

"Yeah sure, as soon as you start passing to me."

Barou leans forward, lips curling up in a snarl and you can immediately feel the frustration radiating off of him, "Just do it."

"No way," Nagi doesn't hesitate to glare right back. You watch the two argue for a little longer, then slump down on the ground and toss your notebook behind you. You can't focus. You feel like you're going to go crazy.

That whole thing with Kyouka hasn't left your mind—and you're sure it won't, at least, not until you clear up the air with Isagi. Your conscious won't let you rest without it. But every time you've tried since then—something has gotten in the way. Whether it be a soccer ball flying at your head, Nagi ending up refusing to leave your back after you begrudgingly carry him (with, might I add, much difficulty since he is nearly two metres tall), or even Barou cursing out Isagi for wimping out on practice, nothing has gone your way since that day.

You sit up and pay attention once more when you finally hear them stop fighting, and Nagi looks over at Isagi, "By the way, Isagi, why'd you let them provoke you into agreeing so fast? We could've searched for a little while longer for some other team to play."

Isagi looks up, a long, drawn-out sigh escaping his lips, "Sure, we could've. I just didn't want them underestimating us. Our weapons are Nagi's first touch, Barou's dribbling, and finally, my direct shot. When we run into Rin's top three team, there's only one way we can defeat them. We gotta find a way to max out the stats we're lacking in."

Nagi raises a brow, "For example?"

"Hyoma Chigiri, the human lightning bolt. His speed... that's what we're gonna need." 

You find yourself silently agreeing with Isagi. For all it's worth, you did miss having late-night talks with him, when you both did your respective physical therapy sessions. That reminds me... I've been forgetting lately.

Nagi sounds as bored as ever when he rests his cheek in his hand and peers at Isagi through half-lidded eyes, "He's your first pick?"

Barou's taken-aback, nose scrunched up at the striker, "Hey, wait a second, I wanna steal someone who's good at hold-up plays. Like that beefy orange-haired dude. We keep the ball, it means more goals for me."

You wouldn't mind Kunigami either. You two weren't as close as you were with the redhead, but you did have some nice conversations with him, and he was one of the nicest people you've ever met. You'd like to be on his team again.

Isagi seems to consider his words, despite their ridiculously selfish reasoning, "I guess that's true. If we had Kunigami, the ball would definitely stay up front more. Also, he's got that killer mid-range shot."

"I guess I would have to choose Reo. After all, I promised him we'd play together again." Nagi looks lost in thought when he says that.

You can't say you have the best opinion of Reo—but you have to admit, he's pretty good at passing and making sure others have the best chance to score. He's a good way to link all these selfish strikers up. Maybe you judged him too quickly, based on his weird obsession with Nagi, but other than that—he didn't seem too bad, you guess.

And that also means Kyouka would be on the same team as me... can't say I wouldn't like that.

Isagi makes a noise of surprise, before he looks between Barou and Nagi in disbelief, "Hold up! Can't be good if we all want different people."

"You asked me, and I told you what kind of soccer I want to play." Barou closes his eyes and folds his arms over his chest when he talks back to Isagi. It's abundantly clear that even if you didn't know him, he's a stubborn person.

"It's still way early. Not like we have to make a decision right now," Nagi sips from his water bottle and adjusts the towel that hangs around his neck. "Besides, if we don't win, one of us will end up being stolen."

The silence of that reality settles in uncomfortably. You look at all of them sullen gazes, then stand up, abruptly and suddenly, so that they all look at you in shock. You pick up your notebook and pen, and clap your hands, "Okay. Let's run through the formation one more time."

This is the least you can do for them, you think, as they all nod and run onto the field. Their towels get left beside your feet, and you don't even glance at the forgotten pieces of damp cloth in favour of your eyes not straying away from the field in front of you.



*⋆。˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆。°✩



Night falls beneath your feet, and you yawn in response to the moon's shine. Per usual, training stretches out long past what you were previously accustomed to (courtesy of Barou—thanks, King). After thirty minutes of Nagi being a corpse walking, Barou finally decides to turn in for the night, and Nagi follows closely behind, stumbling and crashing into every wall he turns to.

This leaves you alone with Isagi—just like before, except now, you know what you want to say. You had thought over Kyouka's words, and you think she's right. Maybe you did bury your feelings so deep inside that even talking about it makes you act upset, and irrationally, and he didn't deserve that. 

Isagi kicks the ball into the goal once more, and he pants, sweat dripping down the side of his face and chest heaving for air. You walk over to him once Blue Lock Man fades away, as the clock has just struck midnight, and Blue Lock Man doesn't condone the loss of a sleep schedule. You stand in front of him, and he looks up at you from his hunched position, a hand outstretched in his face with a water bottle.

He takes it and drinks, gulping down the drink loudly before panting and wiping his lip, a smile on his face. "Thanks, [name]. I'm probably going to go to sleep now, too, so you don't have to worry."

It takes every ounce of confidence in your body to grab ahold of his wrist when he turns to walk away, and you grip tightly so that he has no choice but to stay put and stare at you in surprise. "Before you do... I have something I want to talk to you about."

You let go of his wrist when he stays in place, and you're now facing each other. He's waiting—listening for you to continue, so you do, "About... that night," you say, and you see he immediately knows what you're talking about, by his expression. "I know that I was the one who told you about my problems, and you were trying to help... but all I did was get upset. I acted irrationally, and I shouldn't have lashed out like that at you."

You pause, avoiding his wide-eyed gaze, "I'm sorry."

Isagi swallows thickly—you can see it from the way his Adam's apple bobs—before he speaks, tone small and meek, "It's okay, [name], but if you didn't want to talk about it, then you shouldn't have."

You instantly feel a wave of guilt wash over you, and your stomach twists uncomfortably. "I know. I don't know if I was ready... but I know that I didn't want to accept that maybe, you were right. That I loved something so much but I could never have it again. It felt better to ignore it than to hurt."

You feel stupid, that's all you know, but the words leave your lips like vomit. You can't stop, as much as your mind screams at you to just close your mouth. "I have problems that I need to work through, and I shouldn't have pushed them onto you. I'm sorry."

You don't dare to look at him—head shamefully lowered and hands grasping at the fabric of your pants. You feel so stupid.

However, your thoughts are abruptly cut off by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you and bringing you close, something that makes your head snap up, and from the corner of your eye, you see Isagi's dark, jet-black hair falling over your shoulder and tickling your neck. He's hugging you, is all you can realise, but you don't hug him back.

At least, not until he speaks, "I don't know what kind of problems you mean, but you shouldn't feel like you shouldn't have burdened me. I don't think you're a burden. I want to hear about your problems—I want to see it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly."

You can almost feel him smile when you dig your hands into the back of his disgusting, sweaty shirt, but you don't care that he's all gross right now, because you have finally realised it. He's your friend. It's not like you're going to lose him that easily. 

Maybe you had never truly seen him as anything other than a companion that you were charged to take care of before this—but you certainly did see him differently now. After a long few minutes of silence and gripping onto him tight, you finally pull away, but his hands still rest on your upper arms, and he's smiling.

"Thank you," you say, but your voice cracks and is barely above a whisper. The lingering, warm touch of his hands on your arms brings a sense of comfort—one you didn't expect from Isagi, but maybe, he's always brought you comfort, even since the first selection.

* Isagi places a hand on your shoulder and gives you an apologetic smile, something you return in kind. It's a strange sense of comfortsomething you didn't expect to come from somebody like Isagi.

Your lips stretch out in a wonderful grin—and you believe you wouldn't have this any other way. You're glad that you met Yoichi Isagi.

This raw, vulnerable side of you felt strangely intimate, given your usual standoffish demeanour, and it made all of this feel all the more sweet to him—at least, that's what Isagi thinks when he smiles at you with a bright, unwavering grin.

It's hard to remember when his stomach started twisting at the thought of his manager—but he guesses it might be around the time when you ran into his arms, and ever since then, just maybe, he was hoping that you would do it just once more. And maybe, if you allowed him to be selfish, you would let him lift you up off the ground and twirl you around after such a thrilling goal.

You smile at him with a beautiful curve of your lips, and Isagi Yoichi thinks, right then and there, that this is the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. "Announcing something like this is redundant... but... thanks for being my friend, Isagi."

Your faces are strangely close together, and the way you gaze into his eyes is like taking a bite of honey. A shiver runs down his spine, and he hopes that you believe the red that runs up his neck is from his practice.

Isagi doesn't protest at the friendly term, nor does he give in to his own, selfish thoughts of leaning in at this moment. He knows all you need is a friend right now—and he's content with that friend being him, even when he feels the tickle of butterflies in his stomach, and the place where your hand rests feels burning hot flesh.

He brings you close once again and prays that you don't feel the way his heart thumps in his chest, or the way his fingertips grip your waist a little tighter than just a friend should.

At least let him bathe in this rare moment.

It's the least this egotistical maniac deserves.



*⋆。˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆。°✩



note: well that was a ride! how r we feelings with our first romance ehehhehehehe

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