1. A Fright That Comes In Five

"Are you serious?"

He was at the address he was given. He took the paper out of his pocket and looked at it. He looked at the house, then the paper, then the house, then the paper, then the house...

"You're kidding me," he griped, "you've got to be."

"Afraid not," Ego said as he opened the door, beckoning Y/n inside with his free hand. "Just come in."

Y/n entered reluctantly with a sigh. Much to his surprise, the area he was supposed to sit was decorated neatly in dark blues and matte blacks. The chair was comfortable...not really. The fabric was itchy and made him rather uneasy. It was cushioned well and felt rather nice to sit on, but that fabric...

"Hey, you got any other chairs?" Y/n asked immediately, standing up from his chair rather quickly.

"Yeah, how about this?" The cameraman asked, having one of the people on set replace the chair.

"Yeah, much better. I appreciate it."

🥀 🥀 🥀

"Alright, before we roll the cameras, remember to answer these honestly and truthfully as we haven't rehearsed, nor given you any of the questions prior to this statement," Ego explained as he looked down at the paper in his hands. "There are five questions."

"Lights..."

The lights flickered on. Not too bright, not too dim.

"Camera..."

The camera's angle was fixed a little bit instantly and started recording.

"Action!"

A loud clapping noise filled the room.

Ego cleared his throat. "Please, introduce yourself."

Y/n sighed and fixed his posture. "L/n Y/n. I play as a striker."

"Please let us in on any extra information," Ego stated plainly.

"I am one hundred and fifty-seven centimeters. In other words, I'm five-foot-two. I weigh between fifty and sixty kilograms, which is between a hundred and ten and a hundred and thirty-two pounds. I am ambidextrous, although my left leg needs a bit more work on coordination."

"Wonderful. Question one, what type of soccer are you looking for?"

"A type of soccer where I'm allowed to be as selfish as possible. I want a type of soccer that revolves around me and my skill, giving me ample opportunities to score. I want people that are willing to follow me silently, and break apart when I am not there. I want to be an Emperor among all lowly humans.

"My goal is to train people into blindly following me. I want good defenders that'll look for me whenever they encounter a roadblock. I want to be the center of their world. I want them to feel useless without me. I want their talents to be useless without me."

"So, you require teammates that'll bend to your will and blindly follow you because you want to be the only God in their eyes? The one they worship," Ego said and smiled a tad, "correct?"

"Correct."

"I see. Question Two, do you eat onions like you would an apple?"

"What?? I mean, no, but what???"

"Sorry, sorry, I had to mess with you." Ego laughed. "Question two, what are you going to do if your teammates fail? How would it affect your current circumstances in the long run, and how would if affect your playstyle?"

Y/n smirked a little bit. It was almost eerie. "I'd leave them. If they aren't able to benefit me, I'm leaving. They're useless. If they can't make use of their talents and they can't benefit me and give me the ball on a silver platter to score with, then they're disgusting humans and shouldn't play such a beautiful sport ever again. Their mere presence is vile and makes me want to vomit."

"And if they're a beginner?" Ego asked, his voice shaking with pure excitement.

"I'll be more lenient with them, and might take them under my wing to make a mini-me. My ideals are superior to that of anyone else's."

"Understood."

Y/n stared at the camera, eyes half-lidded in an oversized gray hoodie and heavily baggy sweatpants that were a darker gray. A small fang-like canine poked out of the right side of his mouth. His arms rested comfortably on the sides of the chair as he smiled like his photo was being taken for the school yearbook.

He was undeniably charming.

"Third question, out of everyone you've played against, who was the best in the field?" Ego knew what his reply was going to be.

Y/n sighed. "Hey, now...don't you know that I'm the best player on the field no matter who I'm up against? It's no surprise, really."

"Number four, could you beat the likes of Michael Kaiser?"

Y/n paused for a moment, squinting and leaning forward. "What are you getting at, Japanese Victor?" His voice was light and playful as he smiled like a child who had just been given candy.

"I'm asking a simple question, L/n."

"Well,"—Y/n dusted himself off confidently—"probably, yes."

"Really?" That wasn't Ego's voice. "You don't sound so sure."

"I mean, that stupid 'Kaiser Impact' thing just focuses on raw power and not really much accuracy." He didn't pay any attention to the sudden German accent that entered the conversation.

"Ah, I see," Ego sighed. "Question five... Why do you see yourself as such an important figure on the field, and what's a personal quote of yours?"

Y/n yawned. "Listen, I see myself as important on the field because my talent is the most honed. I do not use drugs, I do not use steroids, and I have an extremely rigorous training routine I engage in every other day. My physique is built for speed and my height makes me practically invisible when I zip past the opponent. My technique is perfected in almost every corner it could possibly be perfected.

"The world is hungry for talent, and if you have enough talent, you make it to the top, and if you make it to the top, you get a lot of money. And money makes the world go 'round. I'm a highly important player because not only am I good, but I can bring out the best in terms of talent in my highly inferior teammates. There's only one of me, and this is the only life I have, so I might as well spend it on myself."

"Truly commendable. You seriously know your stuff. And for the quote?" Ego was on the edge of his seat. He was practically a L/n Y/n fanboy. Not in a creepy way, but he was probably Y/n's biggest fan. It was either him or a certain teal-eyed boy with a jersey number of seven...

"Ah. 'My goals matter more than the state of my teammates.'" Y/n's arms were crossed. "It's a quote I live by."

Ego's smile was wider than ever. "Cut! We're ending it here!"

"Am I done now?"

"We need you here for the editing process."

Y/n groaned and got up. "You guys have any snacks or something?"

"Many. We studied your information on the internet and found out what you liked," a feminine voice intruded. "Right this way, King."

"Kind of creepy if you ask me..." he mumbled. "Weirdos... but this lady's pretty."

"Thank you," Anri said with a laugh and a smile. "Anri Teieri."

Y/n's face went red. "Uh, you heard that? And... L/n Y/n."

"I know your name, and yes I heard that."

Y/n put his hands on his face. "So...you have lots of ramune?" (It's really good I recommend you try some.)

"Tons. Your description said you liked ramune and Pandaro. A big no on Umaibo and anything that tastes like straight up soy sauce. We also cooked you salmon and made sushi. You like lobster too, right?"

Y/n nodded.

Crap, he was gonna be here a while, wasn't he?

Good thing he didn't want much done. Just some light editing.

The week went by pretty fast...thankfully...