10. Piss Poor Planning

"Are you feeling better?"

That was Anri's voice. Y/n had barely came to and still felt a little drowsy.

He must've passed out after colliding with the wall. Great. His head was spinning, too.

"A little," Y/n replied, holding his head with his hands. "This headache is killing me, though."

"We have Advil and some other medication," Anri told the boy. "Would you like some?"

He nodded, his eyes half-lidded from his drowsiness. He was...really tired. His lips curved downward in a frown. "Please..."

His head still rested on his hands as he kicked his feet childishly, waiting for Anri to grab the drugs he politely asked for.

🥀🥀🥀

Y/n's head felt lighter than it did before, and he was now trying his best to stand. His body ached of torn muscles and scratched skin. He often held his head in his hands because the lights caused his head to pound ceaselessly. He reached for one of the light switches hastily, shutting off the bulb on the other half of the room. His legs bent easily with little pressure and they shook violently when he shifted his weight onto either of them. His legs hurt. Really bad.

Why? He pushed himself to run faster than he ever had before, and he probably pulled something. No, he definitely pulled something. It was his hamstring. And to add to that, his thighs were undeniably sore and tight, along with his knees. His body wasn't used to the pain he experiencing, neither to this degree. He felt helpless and his body shuddered at the thought.

(—A/N: In case you don't know, the hamstring is made up of three muscles in the back of the thigh that extend to just below the knee, helping you be able to bend your knee and extend your leg.)

Every time he sat down, his legs ached.

Every time he walked, he strained his muscles.

Every time he jogged in place, it felt like the bones of his knees were grinding together like stuck cogs trying to continue turning, only to make an ear-piercing screeching noise. It felt as though he was being split in half every single time he moved and he hated it. He hated walking with how broken his legs felt. How shattered.

Even so, he continued to do so.

Because Y/n refuses to accept defeat, he strained himself even more until he was forced to sit back down and rest. He didn't want to sit down and do nothing but twiddle his thumbs and feel like a sack of potatoes left in the basement for God only knows how long.

It felt like he was chained to the bed, the inability to move a muscle as of right now weighing heavy on his mind. He felt helpless underneath the shadow of the dim side of the blindingly white office. The walls were like a bright light in and of itself, damaging his vision every time he glanced at it.

Gagamaru had been the one to bring him straight to on-site medical professionals so they could treat him, though. That was something he did remember.

His bodysuit had been ripped up and he was bleeding. Not profusely, but more so than not. He seriously messed up his back on impact and it would take at least a week and a half to heal and for him to get back on track due to the strain his muscles felt.

But what Y/n didn't realize, is that Gagamaru was there all throughout the entire treatment session while Y/n was knocked unconscious due to the fright and pain he felt. He helped the professionals as best he could and refused to leave until Y/n was at least a bit better; at least in good enough shape to wake up.

He was there.

He cared deeply, and wanted to show his cousin such affection because he didn't know if there'd be anything to challenge their relationship later. This was Blue Lock, for crying out loud. People were bound to betray their friends for the top spot and if Gagamaru had ever experienced that from Y/n, he wouldn't blame him in the slightest. He'd still love Y/n regardless.

By his side. All the time.

He wanted Y/n to know what it was like to feel loved because the shorter boy was so selfish that he often isolated himself when not in school. He stayed inside or played alone by himself in vacant fields. Gin would also frequently find himself remembering encountering a sad Y/n because no one wanted to play with him when they were younger, so he'd often ask to play with Y/n. He remembered going over to Y/n's house frequently to play with him as well.

He cared.

He was the only one that cared.

Y/n realized he had fallen asleep the moment he had woken up. He was still sore, but just laying there in the cool room with a rather comfortable blanket and a well-cushioned mattress was kind of calming. He stared at the wall and pictured playing with Gin once more, or just being around him. He loved his cousin and thought the world of his caring attitude.

He sunk deeper into the mattress and turned on his back, pulling the blanket up to just below his bottom lip. It reminded him of home. The gentle and constant whirring of the fan was comforting. The cool temperature so that he didn't sweat was comforting. The pillows were comforting. Everything of the room besides the white walls reminded him of the place he longed to be.

He exhaled calmly and slowly, then inhaled the same way. He actually felt at peace, even if he was in pain.

He thought of his mother, tears pricking at his eyes. He remembered her kind words when people would bully him or make fun of him. He remembered her pretty smile, her pretty, happy eyes. He bit his lip, sniffling. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to hug her again.

She thought the same of him. As she got ready for bed, she looked at her son's vacant room. She refused to move anything around that her son owned, afraid it'd take away his very existence from her house whether it be in the past or the future. She often called out for him to get ready for school, then she remembered he wasn't home, and wouldn't be for a while. Their morning chats were had no longer, and his complaints of the lack of coffee were gone.

She was happy for her son, truly. She just missed him a lot, and wanted to see him again. She had a feeling she would see him some time soon, though. She hoped she wasn't wrong. She wanted to see how much her precious little boy had improved.

He turned on his side again and closed his eyes, falling asleep again rather quickly.

His mother did too.

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(—A/N: Bold is English.)

"This is the place?" A certain chocolate-haired boy asked his friend.

"The map said so," his friend replied. This boy's hair was a light brown, a braid tied up in a bun.

"This looks like a prison," the first one stated blandly.

The second boy nodded. "I can't believe they're training boys eighteen-and-under in here."

"Tell me about it."

"I can't, I didn't make it."

"Thanks, smartass." The dark-brown-haired boy sighed and walked in, followed by his slightly taller friend.

"You're welcome."

"Fuck you."

"That's my job."

🥀🥀🥀

"Wake up."

That was all Y/n heard before blinding white lights entered his vision and his eyes fluttered open. He sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes. He yawned, stretching arms and legs and his body shook from the somehow pleasurable stretch.

"Hm..." Y/n hummed.

"You have visitors." Ego's lanky, thin body stood tall in the doorway. "They're polished diamonds and were extremely difficult to get into touch with."

"I'm not even awake yet..." The boy yawned.

"Well get awake," Ego demanded. "Sao Meku's adult league has sent you some trainers."

Y/n froze. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Ego stepped forward. "One of them has an account but barely uses it, and the other never checks his direct messages. I had to email their captain and ask for them to arrive."

"So...who are they?" Y/n asked

"They're far from adults, but they got bumped up a couple years ago at tryouts for Sao Meku. They're teenagers, like you," Ego's words left the boy on edge.

"Yeah?" Y/n said, rubbing his eyes.

"We asked them to arrive today around a week ago, but we didn't know you'd have such a sudden injury. Even so, these two agreed to face you head-on while others fought a hologram."

"Are they strikers?"

"No, but they're close enough to become some. The only reason they're stuck on midfield is because they're maxed in both defense and offense. The entire world flipped upside down when they announced their relationship but they do make a terrifying duo."

Y/n sat still.

"These Asian-American prodigies are well-known for their speed and technique. And while one is often quieter than the other, that doesn't make them any less of a threat. One started his freshmen year back in America, and the other just practiced with him until he himself found interest in the sport."

"It would be great if you told me who you were talking about," Y/n griped.

"Okay, okay, it's—"

"Waaah triple P..." someone groaned as they burst through the door. "Could it have been any more terrible?"

"Quit your whining..." another boy entered, following close behind.

"Oh, hey!! It's him! Jinja Ren, pleased to meet you!!" The first boy—now know as Ren—bowed. "But we aren't on a first name basis, so just call me Jinja-san."

"Yanagihara Aoi." Aoi, as he said, raised his hand. "Call me Yana-san since my surname is a bit of a mouthful."

Ego sighed. "Jinja Ren and Yanagihara Aoi."