29. CHIGIRI HYOMA

note: song to i reccomend to listen to while reading this chapter—walking back home by vira talisa. its such a beautiful song.

told myself I would wait a while until publishing this. I couldn't take it anymore. so here you go. enjoy 🤭

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YOU

can't sleep. Whether it be from the excitement that was last night's Nagi's Let's Control Everything championship or even just the fact that your legs were aching, you didn't pay any mind to it. All you knew was that tonight, you wouldn't be able to sleep until later, so you might as well do something to pass the time until you were sleepy.

You slide out of your bed without a sound and slip on your slippers, peering over your shoulder at the people sleeping soundly behind you. Barou and Nagi sleep like vampires—while Isagi has one leg hanging off the duvet, and Chigiri is sleeping soundlessly on his side, facing the door like a normal person.

You break your eyes away and slip out of the door, smoothing down your sleeping shorts and opening the door, letting a crack of light shine on Chigiri's peaceful face. He really does look like a princess, you think with a smile, before shutting the door silently behind you.

You walk through the bright halls of the Blue Lock prison, hands clutching your shorts as you look around for anybody possibly being around. When you're sure you're alone, you make your way into a dimly lit room. There, you see the camera footage of the game this morning, between Isagi's team and Chigiri's previous one. You slip your notebook out from under your arm and click your pen on the paper, taking a seat on the cool marble.

You cross your legs and the fur of your slippers tickle your leg, so you kick them off and they now lay discarded beside you. You look away from them and up to the big screens in front of your eyes and watch the instant replays of the most exciting moments.

* Reo passes the ball over to Chigiri, who speeds down the midfield without so much of a hitch—despite Nagi running behind him. You had almost forgotten how incredible his speed was, but you think his prompt goal is a sound reminder.

You write down in your notebook about the way Reo passed—the direction and speed. Despite all the shit you give Reo, he is pretty amazing at passing. It's elegant, the way it curves. You smile.

It's almost scary, how Nagi can play people like a fiddle without a second glance, you think, as he passes the ball over to Isagi in such a swift motion you can hardly see it. Isagi maneuvered himself into everyone's blind spot, in a place where only Nagi could see, just to get himself in front of the goal. And his plan works, too, because he shoots the ball right into the net with his deadly direct shot.

Isagi is improving a lot. Ever since he teamed up with Nagi, it's like he hasn't stopped bettering himself once. You aren't too surprised though, because, especially with the addition of Barou's new daily training regimen, he's been working harder than ever. 

Chigiri comes running in at top speeds, sliding down to try and kick the ball out of Isagi's grasp—only to be met with air, when Isagi passes it over with perfect precision, into Nagi's clutches. The snow-haired boy's eyes light up at the sight, and with his domineering play, he shoots the ball into the goal without a single defender marking him.

Nagi has always been incredible from what you've seen, but this strategy brought out how he shines. He's a star on this field, and you would be lying if you said your eyes weren't immediately drawn to him. Snow white hair, ridiculously tall, and strikingly dark eyes... He sure is weird. You snort at your own thought, scribbling something down.

Chigiri runs down the field, and Reo passes over to him. This time, Chigiri does not stop or slow down, even for a second—propelling the ball forward so he can still keep his top speeds, is a strategy you have never seen him use before this moment.

He isn't even phased when Barou comes charging in like a raging bull—jumping over his foot and propelling the ball up with him, and with a play that couldn't possibly be stopped, he slams his foot into the ball and scores one more goal towards his team's count.

This moment was a beautiful moment that you could only compare to when he finally broke free of his chains during the game against Team W. He leaps in the air without a hitch, smoothly running and leaving everyone behind in his dust. The only way you can describe the way he moves is beautiful. You've always admired him, ever since that day, but he's grown so much that you can't help but idolise him in a way.

Something you could've been.

But you push that thought right down.

You note down his new strategy, with which he propelled the ball forward instead of stopping to trap it, and unconsciously, you draw a little chibi head of him, that's easily recognisable from the long hair, bangs and snarky look. 

You smile when you turn your head back to the monitor, bright lights flashing in your eyes. They're all amazing. You can't deny that. Barou comes on screen, and you're about to write something down about him—

There is a creak at the door.

Despite looking so technological, it seemed that the doors here weren't all that good. They were loud—and that was what gave away the fact somebody was at the door, presumably watching you. You narrow your eyes at the dark crack between the door, and you can barely make out a figure standing there. "What?"

A strange sense of deja vu fills you when the person walks out of the shadows, and there you see a bright red head of hair and a sleepy, gleaming look that you instantly recognise belongs to none other than Chigiri Hyoma. 

You don't falter when he makes eye contact with you, but his eyes soften, and he steps over cautiously. Despite his frigid steps, a smirk still falls over his face and he says, in a teasing tone, "You're up late." 

You don't react to his amusement, rather, you just turn back to the screen to hide how you roll your eyes, "I could say the same for you. I thought you were sleeping."

He notes how you refer to when you left, you looked at each of the peacefully sleeping faces. Chigiri laughs, taking his seat beside you with one knee pulled up to his chest, while his other lay flat on the ground, "I'm a light sleeper. Anything can wake me up—like you leaving late at night and shining light onto my eyes."

But he's lying through his pearly white teeth—he couldn't sleep just as you could, and Chigiri found himself wondering where you had walked off to. Perhaps, he thought, it could be how it was before when you and he would talk late into the night during your time as his team's manager.

This time, he sees you roll your eyes, but he doesn't sass you back, only laughs again and leans back on his hand while staring up at the screen. "You watching the match?"

"Mhm," you nod your head, writing down notes about Barou's new and improved lightning dribble. "Very impressive, you were. Every time I looked at you, I couldn't look away."

His chest tightens at your words, but he doesn't mention it. "... Thanks." Your praise runs deeper than he would've imagined, and deep down, he hopes you'll compliment him again. "Nagi and Barou at the end weren't anything to sneeze at either, though."

"True," a smile crawls up your lips at the thought of your friends, and you tap your pen against the inked page of your book rhythmically, "but still. You're doing pretty great, Chigiri. I put some notes down on things I'd like to see you focus on—but you can wait until tomorrow to read them if you'd prefer that."

He shakes his head, and his bangs fall over his face, "Yeah... I'm not sure if I read them tonight, that I'll remember them the next day. I'm not myself when I'm tired."

You snort at that, and you cover your face so as to not see the glare he shoots you, "Maybe then the next thing we should work on is stamina, then."

"Haha, very funny," he rolls his eyes, pulling his knee down so his legs are lying flat on the marble. "Got anything else you wanna tell me, manager?"

Your voice grows quiet and deadly serious, and Chigiri can sense the next thing you say isn't a joke, so he turns his head to look at you. The expression you make is nothing short of conflicted, "Yeah, I do. I lied to you, Chigiri."

That confuses him, so he asks, "What?"

You parrot yourself, voice a little clearer this time, "I lied to you. I said to you, a while back," and his mind instantly goes to the first night you two emotionally connected, "that I didn't care about soccer. I said that the only reason I came here was for money, and before, I believed it to be the truth. But I think... I think I lied."

He doesn't say a word to disrupt you, big red eyes focused on your face when you scrunch your nose up and your fists tighten. "I told you I didn't enjoy soccer the way others did, but I lied about that too. I did. I think I just love it so much that I just can't stand that I won't ever be able to play again. Even worse, it wasn't even my fault."

You spit the last words out through your teeth and swallow thickly. For a second, he's convinced you're going to break down in tears right then and there. Chigiri is not known for comforting people—really, he's well known as an emotionally constipated man with no eyes for anything other than soccer, and yet, still, he reaches his thin, pale hand over and grips it tightly in yours. 

With fingers linked together, it's like it gives you a surge of willpower to finish, "I think I just wanted to forget. But I don't want to forget anymore. Even if it hurts... I want to grieve. I think... I at least owed an explanation to you."

A sad smile falls over your face, and for the first time, Chigiri wishes to wipe such a smile away. 

Silence fills the room between you two since the monitors didn't include sound within the recordings, it was only the bright flashes of faces that accompanied you both in such a lonely room.

Your gaze is directed at the floor, eyes half-lidded and exhausted. He can tell you're growing tired. Your shoulder slumps and your hands grow too weak to support the pen in your hand. Your nails dig into the back of his hands, smooth surface tainted by crescent-shaped marks—but the redhead can't find it within himself to mind.

Has he always been this soft?

Chigiri finally breaks the silence with an uncertain tone, "Then, you can grieve all you want." He pauses. "I'll listen. If you don't want me to, I won't say a word. But I swear..."

He grips your hand even tighter within his grasp, an unusually genuine expression on his pretty features, "I'll listen to whatever you want me to. Even if it's for days on end, I'll sit right by you and I'll remember every word."

He's never felt so compliant. It's a strange feeling—for the Red Panther to act like a domesticated cat. But maybe, he's always felt something bright, something heart-throbbing towards you.

You look at him, and the light from the monitors gleam onto your face, the colours giving your skin a beautiful hue. 

Chigiri really can't look away. 

In his eyes, you've always shined. You smile, lips stretching out from miserable to a softly joyous curve, and he selfishly wonders if when you smile, it's because of him.

"Thank you, Chigiri," you swallow thickly, and your mouth feels dry as you talk. With each word, your throat bobs, "I... I... appreciate you. You're... a kind person."

Your heart churns, and his heart grows fiery hot. In this silent room, he hopes you cannot hear the pathetic way it thumps in his chest like the way you used to drum your finger against the leather seat, in a way that used to annoy him.

Every part of him—every crevice in his body has been filled and kissed by you, leaving your presence there in it's wake, and it scares the shit out of him. 

The way his heart races—does yours feel the same?

He doesn't break eye contact, and you dare not either.

"[name]," he mumbles, voice low and husky, pressing his lips tightly together. He's squinting his eyes, and you can tell he's conflicted about something—but you aren't too sure what. You tilt your head to the side slightly, and like it was a driving point—you finally see what it is he was so conflicted about.

In a short, sudden motion, he's leaned forward, and his face is so close to yours, so close that his lips are right there, entrapping you in a warm kiss. Fireworks explode in his chest and he feels like every nerve in his body has been melted away by molten lava, but he doesn't let it show. The only evidence of it being his red hot cheeks that glow from the light of the monitors beside him.

It's as if every nerve you have in your body fizzles out, and every part of your mind has been turned to a pile of pink mush inside your skull—electric zaps pulsing through your skin, in every place he touches.

Your eyes widen in shock and your brows raise, but you don't pull away. His eyes are fluttered closed, lashes fanning against his cheek, but you almost can't remember to close your own, not until his hand grabs your cheek and pulls you closer to him.

The other free hand slips down to your waist, gripping tightly and keeping you as close as possible—fingertips digging into your plush skin as greedily as he wanted.

You'll let Chigiri be this greedy, even if just once, won't you? He thinks this as he presses his body right up against your own, lost in the haze filling up the room slowly. Every thought and feeling at this perfect moment is you—and god, he fucking loves it.

You finally shut your eyes, but only for a second, because you pull your head back—but he follows your lips, right until you're leaning backwards and he's basically fallen onto your lap. He looks up at you—practically on his knees—eyes half-lidded and misty, and you can barely make it out from the darkness of the room, but his cheeks have gone a bright red.

He matches his hair, you think, but can't find any humour in the thought. You pant softly with parted lips, chest rising and falling with each sudden breath. With this, he smiles, like he's accomplished something, and moves back, so you can sit properly again. 

He sits cross-legged, cloudy eyes focused on your face for a moment more, before he gets up, hair falling over his shoulder as he stands. He looks down at you, red eyes sharper than ever, "Goodnight, [name]."

You can't bring yourself to call him a friend. After that, you're not too sure what you are anymore. Still, your voice cracking and quiet, you manage to say, "Goodnight, Chigiri."

You catch him smile one last time before he turns around and walks out the door.

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note: hee hee. thoughts? also hope this wasn't too... uhhhh badly written... im not good at kiss scenes lol