6. The Past And Now Learning What You're Messing With

Whistles blew. Referees stood on either side of the field and Y/n had the ball snug under his cleat.

He passed it back (yes, passed) to build it up as he ran parallel to the inside midfielder. He wasn't going too fast, but just fast enough to give his team time to break down the opponent's forward formation.

Once he was on the right corner of the penalty box line, eighteen yards from the goalposts. His hand went up and he waved it frantically.

This was to get his midfielders to run the ball down the center with meticulously executed plays.

"He's at the eighteen!! Someone cover!" A forward chided, his voice cracking in the process.

Someone ran over.

Y/n sighed.

Thump.

The solo defender glanced behind himself and no one was there. He could've sworn that someone was behind him just a minute—no, a second—ago.

The boy he was defending was weaving in and out with the ball in his clutches, dribbling and faking at every possible moment he could. He was like a needle and the players tailing him were his thread.

Eventually the needle pulled tight, breaking off of the thread and leaving the line knotted and jumbled.

The goalie was his only opponent now.

Those dull eyes locked with nervous ones. The lifeless, cloudy eyes of a master on the field, of a ruthless formation assassin.

Of a King.

Those eyes told that poor goalie to freeze in place. Those eyes were as lethal as a provoked tiger's jaws. But was a tiger really the correct analogy? He had the speed of a cheetah but the ferocity of a tiger.

A ball whizzed past Y/n's opponent's face, stretching the net as the ball spun to a stop and dropped.

"Isagi, how do we deal with this guy?" Someone asked.

Isagi didn't know.

"Just what kind of monster is he?" Isagi was frozen solid as he mumbled.

This was the striker of Sao Meku's team.

"Play a game of keep away," Isagi suggested.

And so, the game restarted.

Goal after goal, it didn't matter to Y/n what the circumstances were. He made sure to get a hat trick every game.

He didn't care if he was about to pass out. He didn't care if every step brought him closer to his inevitable doom; the death he called exhaustion.

A beautiful curve accompanied the high-speed ball his foot collided with, a deafening smack that would hurt anyone else's foot but Y/n's.

Only did he care when no one was there to hand him passes on a silver platter. His entire body froze in fear. His eyes went wide and his lips thinned. He tried to find every reason to believe that he was just seeing things and that he was dreaming.

The game of keep away got easier.

Y/n got slower.

When he stole the ball back, he was crowded so bad he thought breathing would be impossible. He had no time, he had no help, and he had no one to feed him passes so he can get fed goals.

His team just...abandoned him. It was like they didn't want to win. Who doesn't want to win!?

He accidentally stepped on the ball and his ankle bent inward.

Y/n was a clumsy bastard when he was exhausted.

He slipped backwards, colliding with Isagi's chest as the latter struggled to support his opponent and regain his own balance. When Y/n roughly shoved himself off Isagi and bolted, that's when eye contact was made.

That poor boy was struggling so hard, and just by the amount of sheer emotion they portrayed, Isagi could tell that Y/n's body was becoming stiff and cramped. His movements weren't as fluid and he looked like he was about to cry.

But his monster wouldn't let up. It wouldn't let him stop.

Its possession and grip on Y/n's body was far too great that twisted ankles and tripping over air wouldn't even stop him.

He was heaving and his footwork grew sloppy and less rigorous. The strict and laborious movements of his legs and shifting of his hips grew slapdash and careless, as if he was throwing himself on top of the ball.

He watched them score their goals, helpless against eleven players.

Y/n woke up in a cold sweat. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were wide with horror.

He pulled the thin blanket up to his chest, squeezing it so tight that soon his knuckles grew white. He then wrapped the blanket around his body that it wrapped around his face like a hood, his legs straight, making a 'v' shape.

Y/n closed his eyes as the corners of his lips pulled back and he gulped. He soon felt something warm cover his legs and he opened his eyes.

Grey eyes stared back. "Hi."

It was the white haired kid again.

"Hi," Y/n whispered.

"You looked cold."

"Oh."

"Can we cuddle? Reo won't wake up."

"Excuse me?"

This kid...he just curled up in Y/n's lap...

"Hey! I didn't say yes!" Y/n whisper yelled.

It was to no avail. This giant was curled up and asleep in Y/n's lap immediately. He just sighed again and looked up at the ceiling, forced to think about the past with little to no distractions so his mind got the best of him.

How he hated the past. He couldn't forgive and forget. No, that was elementary. He didn't hold any grudges against the opposing team, because they were just doing what they could to win.

No.

He held a grudge against his teammates. Specifically Jingo Raichi. When he thought of that stupid blonde all he wanted to do was pummel him into the ground until he passed out. He was pissed. He grit his teeth and sighed heavily.

He went to sleep late that night.

🥀🥀🥀

"And you called us here why?" Chigiri asked with a very heavy sigh. "We've got training to do."

"Training means nothing if you don't know how Y/n is," Ego stated, interlocking his slender fingers and glaring at them through the television screen as he rested his head on the bridge his hands made. "No amount of training could prepare you for his spontaneity."

"We don't need to know how he plays," Kuon retorted.

Gagamaru's eyes went wide. "When going up against him, analysis is necessary. You need to understand what force you're messing with."

"You hit the nail on the head," Ego whispered with a smile.

"So,"—Bachira crossed his arms—"give us the deets."

"Every team is getting the information. Team W decided against the info and lost brutally, crying about it when they failed to gain a win," Ego told the team. "So, we'll have a vote."

"Raise your hand for yes, keep your hand down for no."

Every single one of Team Z's hands went up.

"Perfect. Sit down, this is gonna be a long discussion."