Chapter 1: Lock in
Summary:
He locks in idk
Notes:
To returning readerrrrsss, this chapter has been updated and rewritten!!! :3
Also, here's my strawpage: https://y4nnie.straw.page
Chapter Text
“fuuuuuck. Yocchan, don’t pass the baaa—he passed it. Fuckin' idiot.”
.
.
.
An unnamed adolescent slouched over his desk, a tattooed left hand splayed out on the side of his face--the other hanging over the edge of said desk, fingers repeatedly tapping each other, fidgeting.
He hummed under his breath as he notched his head into the crook of his arm, cheek scratching against the rough lint of his sweater.
This man--formerly world famous, with a bright future and devoted fans--was now nothing but some fading shut in with no ambition, no ego, nothing.
An abandoned phone was left open to a player tracking website, reading:
Jersey no. 8 | Isagi Yukio
<CLUB> | Re-Al Premier League
Market Value: €12.00m
Nat. | Japanese
Age | 18
Main Position | Center Forward
Secondary Positions | Attacking Midfielder, Left Winger
Acheivements | (trophy 1) (trophy 2) (trophy 3) (trophy 4) (medal 1) (medal 2) (author is too lazy to research more and has a test tomorrow) (pretend these are super prestigious)
It was amazing, really. Yukio had been off of the market for almost a year now--not even participating in most matches, and yet he was still a top ranker in terms of market value and prestige, especially for his age... not like it would matter soon anyways though. He was content with letting his contract expire and living as a hikikomori for the rest of his life. At least, that's what he told himself.
Yukio felt his eyes drooping, breath slowing down--dozing off. The blue light from his laptop illuminated the dark room— a perfect incel setup, energy drinks stacked on his desk, empty food containers, pill bottl—
RRRRIIINNGGG! RIIIIINNNNGGGG!
“…?”
His head turned up slowly as his phone buzzed incessantly somewhere on his cluttered desk. Reaching a sluggish arm out, he felt around until he found it, looking down at the caller ID.
Unknown Number.
“…from… Japan?”
The dark haired man sighed deeply, declining the call smoothly.
“Hopefully my number wasn’t leaked.”
His eyes returned to the football game, watching some boy with silver hair being interviewed.
‘What a loser.’
Ding!
“… seriously?”
He clicked the email notification on his computer, eyes widening by a fraction as he read said email.
[email protected]
It’s Ego. Pick up your phone.
“…Blue lock organization… is this what getting your ass kicked by Noel Noa does to you…?”
He grumbled under his breath, staring at his ringing phone once more.
‘How edgy.’
He answered the call, setting his phone to speaker—a foot coming up to push himself away from the desk, the office chair he was sitting on rolling back through the piles of junk and clothes on his floor.
“Heeeellllloooooooooo.”
Yukio drawled, voice hoarse from the lack of use.
”You sound like shit.”
“…”
‘This egotistical asshole.’
His eye twitched, spinning around on his chair--clicking his tongue in irritation before he spoke, swallowing to soothe his voice before speaking up.
“What do you want.”
A chuckle from the other side. It was smug... how annoying.
”Yukio, you’ve been going through a depressive slump, haven’t you? Taking a prolonged vacation… and your contract with Re Al is about to expire. Aren’t you sad?”
“…what are you getting at?”
“You’re a prodigy, Yukio. Rated number one on the rising stars category of the NSL… but now? You’re depressed, scared to go home to your family. Taking medication to sleep--not to mention that drug addiction of yours. You’re… falling off.”
The long haired man gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath. Where the hell was he getting this information? Lucky guesses? No, it doesn't matter. Ego was ticking him off, and he had no intention of taking this bullshit anymore.
“If you just called to insult me, I’ll be hanging up now.”
“I want your help.”
.
.
.
Three days.
Yukio had three days to get himself together, and to travel back to Japan… for Blue Lock.
He cleaned up well.
Sitting at the airport, nobody could tell that the handsome young Japanese man over there, who was drinking a hot coffee, was just contemplating slitting his wrists—maybe even overdosing on pills, just three days ago.
Two days ago, he got his ass up, cut his hair, took a shower, and left his apartment to stay at a hotel. Hiring cleaners while he was there would be risky. He threw away the majority of his belongings (there wasn't much that he cared about, honestly. Things could always be bought once more) before scheduling cleaners instead. The one thing he didn't throw away were some basic clothes to wear before buying new ones, and the silver ring he had given to Yukio when he turned eighteen.
One day ago, he bought new clothes, all designer. He had almost unlimited funds, why wouldn’t he?
And now, just two hours ago, his contract with Re Al had expired, leaving him a free, clubless man.
”FLIGHT 420 IS NOW BOARDING.”
Yukio sighed, getting up and tossing his empty coffee, slipping the black medical mask previously on his chin over his mouth.
His appearance had changed quite a bit since his last press appearance, almost a year ago.
First off, he had gotten moles tattooed on his face. One under his lip to even out the non-tattooed one above, and one under his left eye.
(A/N: I have made art of Yukio, and I will be posting those on a Pinterest linked at the end :3, make sure to check the Pinterest board for details on his tattoos and extra!!! I drew them lol -- OH MY GOD DON'T FORGET MY TIKTOK!! IT'S LINKED ON MY STRAWPAGE)
Second, he got tattoos. Not just simple, natural looking ones like the moles on his face. He had designs. Symbols on his fingers, flowing star designs behind his ear and going down his neck, trailing down his spine.... Lastly, the piercings. Yukio had left Japan a clean slate. The perfect vision of an extroverted, natural, Japanese schoolboy. Now, he was… in terms of (Japanese) media description, a ‘delinquent,’ or ‘bad boy,’ even. Cringe.
A shiver ran down his spine…
‘I hope I don’t get recognized…’
Being noticed would be a total mood killer, considering how he had tried so hard to wipe himself from the world. Privatizing his social media, going to lengths to avoid paparazzi…
‘The headlines would go crazy.’
Yukio ran his tongue piercing between his lips. It was a bad habit of his, messing with his piercing, running it between his lips as a nervous tick… iykyk.
Boarding the plane, he ducked his head and quickly headed into the economy section, carrying only a duffel bag and travel backpack.
“Into the overhead bin you go.”
He helped the elderly woman next to him put her bag up into the compartments also, smiling politely as she thanked him.
‘Earbuds, phone, check. Portable charger…’
He felt around in the pockets of his jeans.
‘Check. All clear, time to zone out.’
.
.
.
Two hours into his fifteen hour flight from Madrid; Spain, to Kyoto; Japan, Yukio got a text.
Gyatt fan #3000
Why is your location off?
₊˚⊹ ⁀➴ ᰔ‧₊˚⊹
playlist for Yukio btw... :3
Chapter 2: deal
Summary:
Yukio is gonna get his bootycheeks clapped, basically.
Notes:
Idk if I mentioned Yukio having sunglasses last chapter, but he does! They’re basically gojo glasses 🗣️🗣️ it’s not relevant, I’d just like you guys to know!!
I drank too much coffee at the volunteer event I was at 😢 the AO3 curse got to me and now I’m up just writing… I think I have heartburn.
THEY WERE SELLING A TRUMP COLLAGE BTW. Like there was a WHOLE ASS AUCTION, and some stupid collage of trump with his signature sold for FIVE THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED AND NINTEY USD. What the FUCk
Pinterest board with drawings of Yukio: https://pin.it/24PgCN6XJ
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
wow, okay, what happened to hello?? I love you? Toxic yaoi ahh boyfriend
Hello, I love you. Why is your location off?
eeeeeeerrrrrmmmmm
Yukio. I love you, but if you’re doing some crazy shit again, I’ll really report it. You know I’m paranoid after what happened last time.
aaargh. Holy paragraph man. Fine, I’m going to Japan.
Back to Japan??
I thought you said you were never going to “go back to that place ever again.” Not ashamed to see your family anymore?
I can’t tell if you’re bullying me or being really autistic right now.
Both. Now answer my question.
errrrmmm weeeelll, I cleaned up, and I’m gonna go sign a new contract. Working for the blue lock project or something ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Are you fucking kidding me??
Don’t you DARE sign ANYTHING without me. I’ll kill you.
Uh oh!!! ( ° — ° ") please don’t beat my ass…
read.
Yukio felt a cold drop of sweat run down his forehead. He had done it now… Gyatt fan #3000–also known as Sae Itoshi, was going to freak. Maybe if he turned his location on, Sae would give him some leeway… right?
Fuck, it was Sae who he was talking about, of course he wouldn’t.
‘Buddha, if you’re really there, it would be a good—no, GREAT time to prove your existence.’
He uttered a silent prayer, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate.
‘Holy crap that scared the shit out of me— WHAT THE FUCK.’
A photo of Sae booking a flight to Japan.
“It’s been three motherfucking minutes— how insane are you.?”
The dark haired adolescent muttered, staring at the photo.
One singular thought ran through his head.
‘I’m fucking screwed.’
…
Sae was angry.
No, not just angry.
He was LIVID.
“who the FUCK does he think he is? Huh? So intent on being a hikikomori and then suddenly running off to Japan? I’m going to kill him.”
Aoi stood next to him, glancing around nervously. He had just arrived to inform Sae of a new interview he had planned in Las Rozas—but that was certainly going to be discarded, considering the ticket booked to Japan open on his computer.
The lanky man was right to be concerned, considering this was the most emotion he had seen the midfielder show… ever. Maybe there would be a smile or two from texts from some stranger named “♡” person on Sae’s phone, but nothing this… explosive.
Considering the name, Aoi was right to assume ♡ was a possible lover, but what could have caused such a commotion?
“Let’s— calm down Sae, you have an interview in Las Ro—“
”shut up.”
Aoi snapped his jaw shut immediately, looking even more fearful than before.
“Cancel my interviews, and tell the club I’ll be on leave indefinitely. I don’t care how you do it, just make it happen.”
The black haired assistant simply nodded, skittering away at Sae’s dark tone, already making calls.
…
“Ego.”
Yukio stepped into the cold, iron room, illuminated only by the blue screens of countless monitors, surveilling the facility. The… Blue Lock facility. Brrr. Scary.
“Listen, if you’re trying to get me to sign a contract, I can’t do that until tomorrow. I left without telling—“
“Your brother.”
‘… does this asshole have a death wish?’
Yukio instantly felt his eyes widen, blood running cold, along with a dangerous rush of adrenaline.
“Careful, Jinpachi. You’re treading a fine line, failed striker.”
His tone softened, changing from the previous respectful tune to a quiet mutter.
A coiled spring. A taut rubber band.
somebody with nothing to lose.
Ego only scoffed.
“You wouldn’t do anything, I think we both know that. You might think you’re scary, but all I see is a wounded dog.”
Ego and Yukio simply stared at each other for a few moments, the tension palpable— two massive egoists, one with an unmatched greed—the other with nothing.
‘Cup ramen to the left, chopsticks on top. Go for the eyes, then strangle him. Destroy the computers, burn the evidence.’
He stepped forward.
“Try anything, and I’ll make sure your brother pays.”
That line made Yukio freeze in his tracks.
“Pathetic. You’re nothing but a shell. Blue Lock isn’t fit for egoless trash like you.”
Jinpachi—all neck and shadowed eyes spat out, words burning like acid on Yukio’s skin. Perhaps it was because he knew the man was right— or maybe it was the shame.
“Even though you’re hollow, you’re still Japans Fuujin. You’re experienced. Your mind may want to forget, but that muscle memory is something difficult to get rid of—especially under your circumstances. I’ll make you a deal, Yukio. Something that will change your life.”
”I’ll fix you.”
Notes:
Fun fact!! Sae is named Gyatt lover in Yukio’s phone because he canonically has a butt fetish, and Yukio is a brainrotted, grass avoiding, water droplet dodging loser!
Chapter 3: blood
Summary:
TW: implied sexual assault, use of F-slur. (I’m a fraggot myself it’s ok guys!!!!)
Notes:
I would promote my Pinterest, or leave some silly comment here, but this is a bit of a heavier chapter.
Also, from now on, I will be going with the assumption you’ve seen my drawings of Yukio. Lock in brothers 🐺
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yukio signed the contract.
To his credit, he actually read it—Ego was a sneaky, conniving bastard that even idiots like himself didn’t trust—and it really wasn’t that bad. Stick with the Blue Lock program, get two days off a week (his choice, unless they were days where events were planned) AND he gets free roam of the giant, billion-dollar facility.
And, best of all, he would be fixed.
Ego was a total bastard, but one thing he never did was go back on his word. If he said something would happen, it would… aside from winning against Noel Noa, but whatever. Everybody fails, or something.
The contracts terms were negotiable as time goes on— perfect! All things were good. The fine print was even suspiciously… up front. No loopholes or anything.
“…that contract was suspiciously considerate. Do you like, care about me or something?? LOL.”
Yukio snorted at the thought, tossing his bags to the side of his assigned room, tossing off his jacket and falling onto the plush, pentagon shaped bed.
Ego simply said nothing, glancing around the room.
“Feel free to furnish as you’d like. I know you would have preferred an alcove bed, but it wouldn’t have worked considering how the facility is built.”
‘Wow. Very considerate. Yukio was starting to get suspicious. Ego never did something without a motive.’
The turtleneck wearing adolescent sat up, a weary look in his eyes.
“…what do you want me to do? Sexual favor? I didn’t take you for that type of man, Ego.”
The bowl cut man simply looked down at him, mildly repulsed.
“You assuming I would do something like that with a child is disgusting. Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“Okay, first of all, I’m of legal age. Second… yeah, you’re right.”
Yukio deflated a little.
“Bad habit, sorry.”
“Your bad habits are something that needs correction. I don’t care what you went through in Spain, fix it. I’ll assign you a therapist.”
Yukio deflated even more as Ego walked out of the room, a scowl on his already perpetually frowning face.
…
Sae couldn’t stop his leg from shaking.
It wasn’t his fault, Yukio had ran off on his own—and he STILL HANDNT TURNED HIS LOCATION ON.
He hopped on the most recent flight he could find— his luggage could be delivered.
He stared out of the window, sat uncomfortably on the leather seat of some private jet, trying to crush any form of paranoia.
‘Yukio isn’t stupid. He promised me. He promised.”
…
three years ago. Madrid; Spain. The prestigious soccer academy Sae knew Yukio wanted to forget.
It was unexpected.
Actually, no. Not unexpected. The whole reason Sae had followed Yukio around for the entire day was because he had expected something.
”coach, I’m tired today. Please just let me go.”
Sae didn’t want to look anymore. He felt like vomiting.
Yukio didn’t sound like himself— his loud, obnoxious voice— his sharp eyes, the challenging glare— all gone.
”Don’t tell me you forgot our deal, Yuki. You’re supposed to listen to your teachers when they tell you to do something, or do you want everybody to know about how much of a disgusting fag you are?”
Sae should have stopped it. He should have done something.
Except he didn’t.
He was frozen. Standing there and listening. Until— THUD.
”WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU SLU—“
Gurgling. The sound of skin slicing— blood.
Sae immediately ran into the abandoned lecture hall, slamming open the wooden doors—
blood.
so much blood.
He saw the irritating striker, the smug, long haired boy he had butted heads with for an entire year— from the moment he had arrived at Spain— standing above a quickly bleeding out coach.
“…irritating.”
Sae was afraid.
Afraid of what, though? Yukio? His dying coach? Or perhaps, his own uselessness.
“I was only sixteen.”
The stressed redhead hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until an akward cough came from Aoi, prompting a sharp glare.
“Aoi. Get me something to drink.”
His assistant stood up almost immediately, running off.
Sae checked his phone for the millionth time, cursing under his breath.
Yukio still hadn’t turned his location on.
Notes:
If you couldn’t guess, Yukio and Sae went to the same soccer academy in Spain—although unlike Sae, Yukio was sexually abused by the coach— leading to some hypersexuality, as seen with the comment with Ego.
I’ve never written a scene with a topic as heavy as rape before, so please excuse anything that seems insensitive 🙏 I did base this off of my own sexual assault as a child, where I became hypersexual as a result.
If you have suffered from sexual assault, please report it. You aren’t alone.
Chapter 4: WAHAHFHFHGHH
Summary:
Yukio tells his family he’s gay, cries like a little baby because he’s very self destructive, and Sae actually gaf
Chapter Text
This sucked.
“EGOOOOO— I DONT WANNA DO THIS ANYMOREEEE…”
Yukio wailed, pushing himself away from the glowing monitors of the surveillance room, head hanging limping on the back of his chair— which was rolling away— aaaaand hit the wall.
“OUF—“
The man sitting next to him didn’t even look away from the paperwork he was filing, rolling his eyes.
“If you want to be—ahem— fixed, then fill it in.”
Said “it” which needed to be filled in was a mental health form. Yukio was fine filling out forms, but this would mean he needed to talk about his problems to a person—instead of debating in the shower.
Seriously, he had the best conversations of his life in the shower. It wasn’t even funny, he was genuin—
“Are you even listening?”
“Nope.”
Ego simply tsked, clicking his tongue and turning back to his work.
“If you want to be fixed, fill out the form. If not, stay broken for all I care. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”
Yukio stared at Ego for a few moments, sighing deeply before returning to his original position.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
A ghost of a smile graced the grim man.
…
“So you signed it.”
“Yeah— whoops!”
A small chuckle escaped Yukio’s lips, his eyes darting around nervously for something to focus on during this akward conversation.
”I should dump you for this.”
“WHAT?!—Hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves Sae!”
He felt his heart rate speed up— and his tone turned panicky. No way Sae would break up with him over something so sporadic— he would stick with him, he wouldn’t do that. Sae couldn’t do that— please don’t—
Yukio heard a chuckle from the other side of the line.
”There’s your karma. I’ll see you in two days. Trying to avoid the press.”
‘Riiiight. Sae was Japans national treasure. The moment somebody even managed to catch a whiff of the possibility of THE Itoshi Sae arriving in Japan for the first time in years, the press would be all over him.’
“This is why I went radio silent.”
”It’s also why you got tattooed all over your face.”
Yukio let out a bit of a gargled noise, indignantly huffing into the microphone.
“Three dots Sae, it’s TWO DOTS.”
”Whatever you say, Fuujin.
Call ended.
“I hate him.”
Yukio pouted, a slight blush dusting his cheeks… in his defense, I mean, why wouldn’t he blush? It was his boyfriend— his perfect, gorgeous, amazing, supportive, prodigy boyfriend… who he also hadn’t spoken to in two entire months, aside from short text conversations.
‘Yayayayayay! Sae’s coming to see meeeeeee~!’
A small, childish part of himself elated at this, rolling around on his bed— feet kicking like a schoolgirl in love.
Gyatt fan #3000
Monday, 5:30 AM. I’ll find somewhere.
Damn the paparazzi from getting in the way of meeting his boyfriend at a reasonable time. Damn them all.
( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ ) yaya OKOK!!!
He got left on read again. That was okay though. Yukio knew Sae was happy now, so he probably wouldn’t get his ass kicked when they met up again.
…
“Meet Anri-chan.”
Teieri; Anri. Twenty two. Law school graduate, extremely well educated— middle class. Popular within the soccer community, specifically the business side. Perhaps that was how blue lock was able to gain the incredible funding it has currently. A mix of Ego’s savings, and investments from the people the earnest looking woman had convinced.
“Hello, Isagi-san!”
Anri bowed respectfully, peering back up at him with a bit of a doubtful expression. Perhaps she wasn’t sure if he was the real Isagi Yukio, or he looked stranger than she thought he would have … which shouldn’t be right. Yukio literally only had variations of the same three outfits.
“If you’re wondering about the moles, the two of them are tattooed. That’s why.”
He pointed to his face, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair to reveal his face more, allowing the magenta haired woman to peer at his face.
“I—I see. I was simply thinking that you look much more tired than you do in your… press appearances.”
Oh.
Yukio chuckled nervously, letting the circular shades drop back down onto the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah. Stuff happened… haha.”
Anri simply looked confused as Yukio turned to Ego.
“I’m requesting leave for these next two days. Visiting family.”
His new boss nodded plainly, waving him off— mouth full with chips.
“mphlmmh phmhhmph.”
(Go do whatever you want. Just be back before the project starts.)
“Uh huhhh.”
Yukio nodded doubtfully, eyes squinting slightly as he backed away.
“I’m off now.”
The unenthusiastic adolescent left, armed with only his phone, wireless earbuds, and a portable charger— and maybe two or three five hundred yen coins in his pockets… depending on how much the gods of luck decided to bless him that day.
Getting on the nearest train to Saitama, Yukio unsheathed his phone, brandishing it within his tattooed hands, slouched on a train seat.
fellow sperm sharer
hey.
It had been about a year since he had last messaged Isagi. Exactly three hundred and sixty six days.
‘I wonder if he forgot about me.’
A reply came almost instantaneously— and Yukio felt a pang of guilt in his chest.
NII-CHAN???!
HOLY CRAP, IS THAT REALL YOU? I THOUGHT YOU DIED AFTER YOU STOPPED SHOWING UP ON TV??!!!
Yep, he was being gutted alive.
A few tears began to prick at his eyes, and Yukio pushed his sunglasses closer to his face, as foggy as the lenses were getting. His mask was readjusted, and his hood was brought up.
(A/N, just in case you missed it/forgot, I’m continuing this story with the assumption that you know what Yukio’s outfit looks like—since it’s on Pinterest… anything aside from the art you see on Pinterest will be described, ily 😻)
WELL IM BAAACKKK!!!
₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ
We were so scared Yukio.
This is your mother messaging, by the way.
‘Whoops.’
You disappeared on us for no reason! No calls, letters, messages. Nothing! I cried for nights and nights you know?? I’ll never forgive you.
That one hurt extra. Yukio hated seeing his mother upset. Even envisioning her crying was too much for him.
I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything, I promise. I’m sorry mom, I love you.
Yukio panicked a bit as he was left on read— only for somebody to begin typing once more.
Hey, it’s Yoichi again— mom saw your message and burst out crying. Dad and I are angry too. You better come quick and spill it asshole.
He breathed a sigh of relief— although it was an immediately regretted action, as his sunglasses fogged almost immediately after.
‘The gods of luck are not on my side today.’
He took his glasses off, holding them delicately while typing out a reply.
I know!!! I know!!! I’m sorrrryyyyy 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹
Whatever…
Did you at least bring souvenirs?
‘Oh crap.’
Souvenirs.
Yukio totally forgot! Plus, he was too busy dealing with practice
and his coach
during his stay in Spain! He didn’t even think about souvenirs. I mean, he had sent some in his letters home, but his parents would probably want them from him in person huh… fuck, he was taking too long, better respond.
Nope! I got something even better >:)
REALLY?? WHAT IS IT??
Fuck. He just dug himself into a deeper hole.
Think Yukio, THINK.
A lover~
‘Buddha, I’m so sorry, please make sure Sae forgives me… I’ll grovel if I have to.’
A bead of nervous sweat made its way down Yukio’s face as he fidgeted with his tongue piercing (still a bad habit), holding his breath in an attempt to slow his racing heart.
The typing bubble popped up and disappeared multiple times before a simple reply.
SERIOUSLY?
And the floodgates opened.
Countless messages, spammed by his mother, father, and younger brother, interrogating him.
WHO!?
DOES SHE ALSO PLAY SOCCER?
WHEN DID YOU GUYS MEET??
It seems in the haste of their constant barrage of messages, his family had forgotten how to turn off caps lock.
I’ll tell you guys when I get there, stop spamming me (っT o T ς)
Fine. You better not be lying though. Asshole.
That was definitely Isagi messaging. Cussing just like how Yukio taught him. He would almost feel proud if he wasn’t so busy stressing over how Sae would react.
‘…it would be best to call him.’
…
In two hours, he had arrived in the Saitama prefecture, heading into a back alleyway in the small town near his rural, childhood home.
Yukio had stress written all over his face, biting down on his lip nervously as he dialed his boyfriend.
”Yukio?”
“Sae!”
The previously anxious man brightened up momentarily, before falling into distress once more.
“Um… please don’t be mad.”
”What did you do this time.?”
“…I forgot to bring my family souvenirs when I left from Spain so I told my brother that instead of souvenirs I brought a lover and now you need to come to the Saitama prefecture or else I’ll be even worse of a brother than I already am because I haven’t talked to them in over a year and I can’t disappoin—“
”Yukio. Quiet. You’ll be fine. I need to come to Saitama, right?”
Yukio paused his word vomit, taking a breath.
“Yes.”
His voice sounded a bit strained— Yukio wanted to say more.
”You sound like you still have something to say?”
Sae was inviting Yukio to info dump, an invitation the distressed striker would never turn down.
“My mom— my family— when I stopped appearing in the media, they thought I diedddddd— WAAHGJHHHHHHH—“
Yukio burst out into sobs, pulling down his mask and pushing his shades up, wiping frantically at his face with the sleeves of his jacket.
”…listen, Yukio. If I rush, I can be there by tomorrow—around midday, is that good? So just stop crying. I’ll be there. You’re not a bad person— just, very flawed. Go clean yourself up, I can practically see the snot on your face.”
Yukio’s heart felt as if it melted, turning into goop at the concern in Sae’s voice.
‘I’m gonna fucking marry this bitch.’
“O—okay.”
Yukio sniffed, saying a quick goodbye, hanging up the phone.
‘There should be a convenience store nearby… I can use the bathroom there..’
He brought his mask up again, covering his reddened eyes with his sunglasses.
…
“So?”
“So what.?”
Yukio shrunk back a little at his mother’s glare, sitting at the dinner table.
‘This feels like when I was being interrogated by the police because of his death.’
“Your lover? Where is she… a-and don’t forget to explain why you just suddenly ghosted us!”
His mother looked a little flustered, stuttering; indignant.
“Aaahh… well first bombshell, I’m gay. It’s a he.”
Silence.
”YOU’RE WHAT?!”
Notes:
The same three outfits Yukio has are
1. The one I draw him in
2. A black hoodie with the words “kill yourself” in specifically arial font, size 30–and baggy pj pants
3. Long sleeved shirt, baggy band tee, black jacket, silver chain necklace, baggy jeans.- he has multiple variations of these same outfit combinations (aside from the kys hoodie, that’s a unique item)
Chapter 5: arrival!!
Summary:
Sae meets Isagi :0
Notes:
Bro I’m so sleep deprived rn so be prepared for non proofread chapters, or vary quickly skimmed chapters 😭
Sae my baddie
Yoichi will be referred to as Isagi, Yoichi, and the younger brother because I say so 💪
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“…so… you’re dating Sae ITOSHI!?”
Isagi’s eyes widened, leaning across the table, slack jawed.
“Like, THE SAE ITOSHI?!”
Yukio nodded at his brother’s shock, while his parents looked confused.
“Sae Itoshi?”
His father raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical.
“Is he famous..?”
Isagi’s head snapped over to look at him immediately.
“He’s Japans national soccer treasure!! One of the NEW GENERATION WORLD XI!!! HES INSANELY FAMOUS!”
“Must not be that famous, if we don’t know him.”
Their mother spoke up, walking back to the table, carrying water and apple slices on a wooden tray.
“Mommmmm… don’t go insulting my boyfriend!”
Yukio pouted, snatching an apple slice, other hand already reaching for a second.
She simply slapped his hand away, with a sharp—“mind your manners!”
“And those tattoos… why would you get those.? The moles are okay, but you wont be allowed in hot springs love.”
His mother took his left hand, tracing his thumb over the tattoos on his hands cautiously.
The long haired man rolled his eyes, swallowing his fruit.
“I can’t even go into public hot springs. I’ll be swarmed, ma. I have to walk around with my face covered all the time. If there’s even a rumor of me reappearing, the public is gonna go insane.”
His mother sighed, sitting down, chin resting in her hand.
“Ah well. We can’t help it can we? A contract prevented you from speaking with us—and you’re under an NDA from your current one… as long as you’re doing well, and that Itoshi boy treats you well, I’ll allow it.”
Yukio hummed approvingly, snatching another apple slice from Isagi.
“And you?”
The Isagi turned to his father, speaking with a full mouth.
“…well, I’ve always wanted grandchildren, but my son’s personal happiness is more important.”
A sigh left his father’s lips, with the older man rubbing his temple.
“You can always adopt. My final verdict. It’s fine as long as you’re fine… but! If something happens with that Sae boy, I’ll make sure to set him straight for you, okay?”
A warm feeling coursed through Yukio’s body. He had forgotten how kind his family was.. they were too good for him— forgiving him so easily with such a flimsy excuse…
”Y-you guys—“
His lower lip began trembling, his dark blue eyes glossing over.
“Eh! Yucchan!”
His mother snapped to attention, scuttling to his side almost immediately.
That nickname struck a chord within him, followed by the soft rubbing on his back— he broke.
“WAAAAHHHHHHH— IM SO SORRYY—“
His father and brother looked confused, before their expressions morphed into concern, the two of them also rushing to his side.
“I—I’M SORRY I RAN OFF AND SCARED YOU GUYS- I JUST— I—“
“God, Yucchan. It’s okay, it’s okay! We know something probably happened. You’re not a good liar you know. That contract thing was a flimsy lie. You forgot that your father is still a lawyer, retired or not.”
The eldest Isagi patted his sons back, weary.
Yoichi froze.
‘It was a lie?? He had no idea.’
The youngest member of their family was too used to blindly trusting whatever Yukio said—perhaps this was his sign to start questioning his brother, but that wasn’t important, Yukio was crying. He needs to comfort his brother!
“Y-Yukio! Please stop crying, I don’t know what happened there, but we really aren’t mad. It’ll be okay— we’re here for you. You don’t need to share if you don’t want to, but we’re family. We support each other.”
Yukio seemed to sob even louder at that, grabbing onto Isagi, wailing into his brother’s chest.
This was gonna be a long day.
…
“Sorry.”
Yukio sniffled, awkwardly wiping his face off with tissues, chugging down a cup of water.
“For lying. But, I really can’t tell you anything,
it’ll kill you
it’s… complicated.”
“Some stuff happened, but I’m getting help. It’ll be okay.”
Yukio wasn’t able to look up, eyes trained on the wooden table—stained and scratched by years of use.
He could feel the concerned looks of his family trained on him, and felt his shoulders slump. At that, his mother placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
“It’s okay Yukio. We won’t pry.”
“Yeah! It’s fine. If you aren’t comfortable sharing, we won’t push it, right dad?”
“Right.”
Yukio felt like crying again.
Today really was gonna be a long day.
…
“So… why are you sleeping in my room again?”
Isagi looked down at his brother, who was laid comfortably on a futon, next to his bed.
“Well, Sae’s gonna be here tomorrow, and he’s probably gonna want to sleep alone— and I miss my little brother!”
Isagi simply rolled his eyes before seemingly remembering something, rushing to his desk and pulling out a letter.
“Right, big bro! Look! I got a letter in the mail!”
Yukio raised a brow, lazily turning, staring up at Yoichi.
Oh fuck. He recognized that logo.
‘I’m going to kill Jinpachi.’
“I got invited to a… player improvement project! Blue lock or something, it’s supposed to be a government organization!!”
Yukio smiled grimly, face twitching.
“thaaattsss greeeeaaaaatttt…”
“You need to learn to control your face nii-chan.”
Said nii-chan simply sighed, letting his head loll to the side.
“I’m happy for you Isagi. You should go, but be warned, the Blue Lock project, or whatever—it’s gonna be insane.”
Isagi simply looked adorably confused, putting his letter away.
“Wat does that mea— ARE YOU INVOLVED IN THIS?? IS THAT WHY I GOT A LETTER?? AM I A NEPO BABY?!”
Yoichi dropped down to his knees, shaking Yukio’s shoulders.
“Cmon! Cmon! Is that the NDA you’re under??? Just tell me!! If I got an invitation through nepotism it shouldn’t matter, right, right??”
The elder brother simply rolled over onto his stomach with a groan.
“You didn’t get accepted through nepotism. I actually didn’t even know you would be attending… and addressing that involvement accusation, yes. I’ll be at the facility, but hopefully I won’t have to participate. An acquaintance of mine owns the project, so…”
Isagi felt his jaw drop.
“Is that why you came back?? To help with the project?? To help me!?”
Yukio didn’t have the heart to repeat the fact that he didn’t even know Isagi would be involved, considering how excited his brother sounded.
“Uh huh.”
“Then you have to come find me, okay!?”
“Okay. Can we sleep yet?”
…
Sae was stressed.
He was never stressed.
Not during his games in the Spanish U-15, not when he was swarmed by paparazzi— but now? At the prospect of meeting Yukio’s family? His leg wouldn’t stop shaking.
Aoi looked at him through the rearview mirror of the sleek black car they were in, watching as Sae fiddled with the ring around his left ring finger—of which Yukio’s signature was engraved on the inside.
His boyfriend had insisted on it— and Sae wasn’t exactly one to complain about having a free memento of his lover, especially considering his unstable mental state… who knew what Yukio would do.
Maybe he was overprotective— but really, who wouldn’t be?
Sae slipped the ring off of his finger, staring at the worn down silver band.
He should get it cleaned.
…
The redhead arrived at around 2PM, waiting outside of Yukio’s house, eyes surveying the building.
A traditional Japanese farmhouse. Small, large backyard, one story. Very different from the modernized, sharp corners, cold colors home he grew up in. The home seemed cozy— not constantly cleaned and kept pristine by maids and cleaners.
Aoi was waiting in the car with his chauffeur. The two would leave as soon as he confirmed it was the right house.
Sae was dressed in a loose white button up with the sleeves rolled up, displaying the teal and red kandi bracket Yukio had made for him during his hyperfixation on those silly beads… about a year ago. His silly boyfriend had even custom ordered beads to match his hair and eye color…how idiotic. He had a matching white undershirt on, and a pair of pale blue jeans, a bit baggy, and cuffed at the bottom to avoid getting muddy.
‘Was it a bad idea to wear such pale clothing in a farming town.?’
He adjusted the box of chocolate covered strawberries in his hands, a temiyage for his lovers family.
Sae didn’t have time to contemplate before the door was slammed open by—
Not Yukio.
Was it his brother? Sae had remembered seeing a few clips of his games when his boyfriend was feeling sociable enough during his hikikomori era to send him a short video or two.
“Quick— quick! Come inside!”
He was snatched and pulled indoors quite unceremoniously, stumbling for a moment in the entryway before the door was slammed shut.
“Pardon.”
Sae couldn’t deny his voice was a little strained— he was practically thrown inside, who would be a little irritated— as he spoke, sliding his shoes off, dropping his bag onto the floor.
“Saaaaeeeeee~”
Yukio.
Sae wouldn’t deny the fact that he felt his heart rate pick up a little at the sound of his lovers voice. Glancing up, he saw him.
Yukio, the most gorgeous person to live, the man he adores, the least mediocre person to ever exist, somebody he could sing praises of constantly, his—
“Hello.”
As adoring of Yukio as Sae was, the redhead would never admit it. It would just be fueling the fire, encouraging his lover to go and do whatever he wanted, because Sae would always forgive him.
He stepped forward, setting his box of strawberries down—heading over to where Yukio was sat on the couch, pressing a soft kiss under his eye.
“I missed you.”
click!
Sae snapped up and glared at Yukio’s brother— whatever his name was.
The flustered male underneath him let out a bark of indignation.
“YOCCHAN! W- what the hell!?”
“You guys are gross. Go do that stuff in private.”
Isagi was holding his phone, having just snapped a picture of the two— catching them in the act of.. homosexuality?? PDA??
Yukio huffed, pushing Sae off of him, prompting the other male to sit down.
“Just ignore him. He wont send that photo anywhere. Yoichi’s an asshole, but he’s not stupid.”
Sae simply nodded, glancing around the room, surveying his surroundings.
The redhead supposed that if he wanted to get along with his boyfriend’s family, it would be best to befriend his brother— who, from his knowledge, was quite the soccer fan.
“So, Yoichi.”
The dark haired boy’s eyes shot up from his phone almost immediately, the sprout like ahoge on his head bouncing.
“Uh… yes?? Itoshi-san?”
“Just call him Sae.”
Yukio butted in, grabbing the remote and flicking through tv channels.
“Parents are gone for the next hour by the way. You can give them your gift later.”
Sae rolled his eyes, ignoring Yukio and patting the seat next to him.
“Would you like to sit down, Yoichi?”
Isagi nodded, eyes staring at Sae— eyes wide in awe.
“So…”
The short haired boy looked around awkwardly—attempting to ignore Saes piercing gaze.
“You’re a striker, right?”
“Uh, yes!”
“Are you any good?”
Isagi looked a bit nervous, scratching the back of his neck.
“Compared to my brother..? Not at all, haha.”
Yukio snorted, putting on some trashy reality tv as background noise.
“Don’t put yourself down Yocchan. It’s unfair to compare yourself to me. He’s a good player Sae.”
A tattooed hand reached over to pinch Yoichi’s cheek.
“Where’s your pride?? Announce your ability with your entire chest buddy.”
Yukio shook his brother around by the face for a little bit before leaning back into his seat, sinking into the cushions.
“R-right.”
Isagi looked nervously to Sae again, who seemed completely unfazed. Bored, even.
“Hey, nii-chan. Do you wanna play soccer?”
Notes:
Mutual obsession, my favorite genre
Chapter 6: beginning - introduction to cast
Summary:
Blue lick starts fr now :3
I EMBEDDED A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST FOR YUKIO BTW (≧∇≦)
(its at the end, but I'm probably gonna add it to the end of the first chapter, or like the end notes???
Notes:
bro I'm finally writing on pc for the first time in like forever and this shit looks so ass
like idk how to describe it, the layout just looks worse on pc because I like to use a lot of paragraphs and brakes n shit
kms its so ugllyyyyy asldjfalskjdflaksjdflkasj ending it all
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Fuck.
Yukio couldn't help but ogle at himself in the bathroom mirror, a smug look on his face.
"I'm hot as hell."
He was totally feeling himself, and honestly, good for him. It's been a while since he'd last felt confident.
The striker was basically dressed the same as he usually did, black turtleneck and everything--except instead of a white Re Al jacket, he had a dark navy Blue lock jacket, the pentagon shaped logo plastered on the back, the blue as neon as ever. This new jacket was paired with a lanyard looped though his jean's belt loops, a master keycard attached to it, and a name tag stuck over his heart.
Hello! My name is: Kon/Ko
"I can't decide if this is tacky, or looks really damn good."
Adjusting the blue tie wrapped around his neck, Yukio muffled a yawn, pushing his sunglasses up, strutting out of his room-walkie talkie strapped to the waistband of his baggy jeans.
'errrrmmm... how is this-- okay, got it.'
After a few moments of adjusting his pants, Yukio managed to maneuver the bright yellow taser he was carrying underneath his jacket, hiding it from view.
"I'm so exciteeeeed~"
The first selection of blue lock had just ended, and now it was his turn to shine.
...
"Lets see..."
Yukio had specifically requested to be placed at the furthest stratum from Yoichi, who was in... Z. This meant he was between W and X.
Checking through the security footage on his phone was no biggie. He strolled languidly through the halls, tapping between camera feeds, aaaaaaaannnnddddd...
"Seriously?"
The tie wearing staff member quickly turned around, heading for stratum V. From the player profile details he had reviewed before the project (officially) began, a player known as Ryusei Shidou was fighting.
It seems the blonde with pink tips had a previous history of violence, a wild smile on his face as he slugged his teammate, blood and viscera splattering on the floor.
Yukio had managed to arrive at the entrance to penalty zone sized training room, rushing in the moment that the heavy iron door lifted, dragging Shidou off of-who the fuck was that?
Process of elimination time. Yukio scanned the room, his eyes darting around. All players except from Koshi Tsuba were accounted for.
'Poor guy.'
He sighed, feeling a pang of pity for the bloody teen before turning his attention back to the screaming blonde beneath him.
"Shut up ."
Yukio had at least expected Shidou to pause his screaming, but no. It got louder...
'I regret taking this job...'
"HAHAHAHAHAHAAA- Who the FUCK do you think you are, HAH? I'LL KILL YOU TOO. THAT WORTHLESS, PASSIONLESS BASTARD DESERVED EVERYTHING HE GOT.
"...Calm down. Do you wanna get tased?"
Despite the struggling asshole underneath him, Yukio's grip remained strong, one hand holding Shidou's arms behind his back, a knee on the small of said back, and one hand reaching for his taser-holding it to the blondes neck as a warning.
That seemed to make the shithead come to his senses, stoping his movements, although he was still visibly hostile.
"Good dog."
Yukio cautiously released him, backing off and taking out his walkie talkie to call for medical, re-hooking his taser.
"Medical to training room; Zone Penalty; fight; SV."
After the report, he put his walkie talkie back, next to the taser, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Please don't do that. Lawsuits are hell to deal with. I couldn't care less who you beat up--just... don't do it here."
He cleared his throat, dusting himself off, leaning down to pick up Tsuba.
"Hello everyone, my name is Kon, or Ko. I'm basically your supervisor. Come to me with any problems or questions you have. I handle most of the heavy lifting around here. You can find my schedule posted in the canteen, along with on the official schedule boards located within your locker rooms. I'm happy to help with anything you need me to, within reason.
"Who the hell are you?"
Is this guy stupid? I just introduced myself...? Yukio--Ko, raised a brow.
"I'm Kon... or Ko. Just call me Ko."
Shidou ignored his input, staring intently at him with those sharp pink eyes of his, surprisingly analytical.
Ko returned his gaze with a passive glance.
"You're not like the rest of these losers. You're strong."
What the fuck does that mean? Who does he think he is? Bukuna?
"yeeeaaaaah."
He returned unenthusiastically, nodding-a bit skeptical.
"Are you a striker?"
"I am."
"Play against me."
Ko laughed--A full, shaking, stealing the air from your lungs type of laugh.
Shidou looked confused, and a little insulted- gaze hardening.
"No thanks pal, I'd destroy you. Small fry aren't worth playing against."
He chuckled a little before throwing Tsuba's limp body over his shoulder once more, walking out with a snicker.
"--Give me your number then!"
Shidou's request went unanswered as Kon left the room, a smile gracing the dark haired strikers features.
Buddha, if Ego was watching, Yukio knew he would be smiling too. That sneaky bastard was right. Blue Lock really might fix him.
...
It seemed that the other stratums managed to figure their own problems out, and Ego had wanted to introduce the losers to his "Wildcard" program himself, leaving Yukio with nothing to do.
Currently, the cheery male was busying himself in the canteen-chowing down on a cup of mango pudding, phone in hand.
Gyatt fan #3000
Guess who just had their first successful shift at Blue Lock!!!!
( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
How was it?
IT WAS SO FUN!
I actually feel more excited than I have in like, years. LOL!
There's this one guy, Shidou or something. He's really interesting, I think you'd like him.
I reviewed a few of his older plays before he came to Blue Lock, and our playstyles are soooort of similar.
Hes not half as good as me, but not half as bad either.
Maybe a bit warmer than lukewarm??
I see. Must be fun.
I'd send you his file, but its illegal
(╥﹏╥)
You've done worse. This wouldn't hold a candle to some of the crimes you've committed, Yukio.
YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO ENABLE ME!!
Yukio turned his head to the side, looking up from his phone, watching a smirking participant head towards him.
'His hair sort of looks like a crows beak...'
K, can't talk anymore
sm1 coming
ily
I love you too.
♡ loved your message
Notes:
Fun fact! The reason Yukio's alias is Kon is because Kon quite literally means dark blue, and can also represent the sound of a fox's bark.
Foxes are known to represent trickery, and in mythology are known for their wisdom and as protectors (specifically in Japanese folklore, also being known to bring wealth and good fortune). This relates to Yukio, as he lies about his identity in Blue Lock (trickery), is wealthy, and is very knowledgeable (or wise ig) about soccer. He's also very protective of Isagi, but that comes later.
>Also, I know Isagi is Yoichi's last name, but I'm just so used to calling him Isagi it feels weird to constantly dress him as Yoichi. I feel as if this is a sentiment shared by most of the American/English speaking part of the fandom too :3
Chapter 7: lukewarm - introduction to cast
Summary:
Karasu and Otoya meet Yukio-or Kon.
Notes:
Anything with "- introduction" is the "introduction arc," where characters (at least the relevant ones) meet Yukio.
I'm getting out one last chapter before Monday even if it kills me...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
'Karasu Tabito, the assassin. The one behind him...'
Yukio glanced behind the dark haired man, sizing up the admittedly handsome participant following behind, looking tired. Green streak, white hair, lanky, tall.
'The ninja, Otoya Eita.'
Yukio sighed, standing up quickly and going to toss his snack, not in the mood for any form of socialization currently... Until-
"Remember Yukio, your job is to get to know the participants within the Blue Lock facility, and scope out anybody you consider worthwhile. As hollow as you are, you're still a prodigy, as much as I hate to admit it—So make sure you do your damn job."
'Ego wouldn't mid if I skipped out just once right..?'
"If you even try to avoid your duties, I'm revoking your breaks."
'Nope. not even worth the risk...'
Yukio let out another sigh, although this one was more noticeably irritated. Turning to two figures entering, he waved.
"Hey you two! Which stratum are you from?"
Pretending he had just noticed them would be the best move, and admittedly-Yukio had slacked off when it came to remembering which stratums the participants belonged to.
Crow- Karasu- stared pointedly at him--analytical; sharp. It reminded Yukio of when he had first met Sae.
Sae...
'I miss Sae...'
"We're both from V. We came from the V stratum entrance after all," Karasu smirked at Yukio, sizing the slouched man up.
'Ah, right.'
"Whoops! Sorry, I'm a bit dense sometimes. I'm Kon, but just feel free to call me Ko. Think of me as the guy you go to for anything and everything. My schedule should be posted in your locker rooms-if you need to catch me. My office is on the map too."
"I don't think that I would need assistance from somebody... like you."
Karasu faked an apologetic smile, looking down at Yukio with condescension, lips pressed into a thin line.
'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?????'
"Hey, I wouldn't mind going to your office, if you know what I'm saying."
Otoya stepped forward, tilting his head slightly, face as passive as ever, unaware of Yukio's quickly rising blood pressure.
'...I wonder if restraining orders are possible in this facility.'
"Ha ha. Funny. Just, tell the rest of your team about me, I'm not walking around this entire facility to introduce myself."
"Ah, so you are the lazy type."
'the what.'
Karasu seemed entertained as Yukio's eye twitched, watching the conflicted male take a deep breath-counting to ten.
Don't let one weird comment and some basic ass insult get under your skin. Are you seriously so sensitive now? You used to be able to take all types of beatings from him, verbal or physical, remember, Yukio? Don't let mediocre trash get under your skin. They're all just lukewarm.
"Karasu Tabito. Analytical. He has a habit of picking apart people like a crow picking at a carcass-ripping it apart, inside out. Don't let him get on your nerves Yukio. Your temper isn't exactly the best look for Blue Lock."
'Right, he had just found an interesting person in the V stratum, who cares about a comment or two. Sae would laugh at him for letting such trivial matters get under his skin. Maybe it was because he hadn't had a coffee yet-or he was still hungry.'
"I'm just a-general manager of sorts. Maybe a bit of a slacker. Whatever you make me out to be. As said before, please inform your team about my existence. I'll be off now."
He walked past Karasu, cursing him and his self important, smug, condescending smile the entire time-not sparing Otoya a second glance.
"Sooooo... I take it he doesn't want me at his office?"
"I don't think he does."
Notes:
I don't actually really remember what stratums and teams characters are in... so if there are inaccuracies, feel free to comment.
also im super sleep deprived rn like my eyes are actively unfocusing....... so liiikeeee if there are any typos or whatevers, that's why! (im ending it)
Chapter 8: GET OUT!!!! - introduction to cast
Summary:
Yukio meets a schizophrenic, and then his brother :)
There's also context as to why Yukio asked to be placed far far away from Yoichi now! aaand mild suggestive content with my favorite water droplet dodging depressed nutsack and his boyfriend!!
Notes:
I was listening to Candy by Doja Cat on repeat when writing this chapter vro. ts pmo icl....
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
‘So exhausting.’
Yukio rolled his eyes, turning himself over on the grassy field.
Ego had insisted on using real grass inside of the facility, especially in the training fields, for the extra realism—or some dumb crap.
Along with needing to patrol the hallways in shifts, analyzing players, and even helping set up training schedules, Yukio needed to restart his own training regimen- which had become even more difficult with Ego's insistence that he not only build up the ability he used to have, but also to get "stronger to become a true egoist," whatever in the bumfuck that meant. Now, because of that bastard's even more dictatorial insistence to have real grass, that means there would be real mud, and real dirt to clean up from his cleats... while he was sore. FUCK.
"Screw this egoist crap... I'm getting some rest."
Yukio got up from his position on the ground, standing up with a groan.
'Coming here was a bad idea, some crap is gonna happen- I just know it."
Stratum Z. The stratum he had wanted to be as far as possible from, which coincidentally was also the only area within the Blue lock facility which was currently empty of any strikers--or at least within the full sized fields, until...
"Oh wow! I didn't know Team Z had a secret striker!"
Who the fuck?
Yukio's head snapped towards the direction of the newcomer, eyes wide.
'Huh, I usually would've noticed somebody coming. This training really is something else.'
The striker wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead, the sleeves of his black turtleneck rolled up, his jacket having long been forgotten at the edge of the field.
"I'm not a member of Team Z. Just an employee."
His eyes darted to the exit where the intruding voice originated from, a soft scoff leaving his lips. Maybe it was a bit condescending, but he really was just in a bad mood. It had been a while since he had been snuck up on, and this unknowing player had just hurt is pride.
"Really? What's your name? I'm Bachira!"
'Bachira. Baccchhhiiirrraa... errrrmmm... Baccchhirraaaaa- Right! Bachira Meguru! The little egoistical dribbler he had been interested in. How could he have possibly forgotten.'
"Im Y-Kon. Im Kon... or ko, either works."
Fuck, he really did need to get out of here. That training didn't just take a little bit out of him...
"is this what I get for ignoring that conditioning training Ego wanted me to do..?"
"Huh? What'd you say?"
Yukio's head snapped up as he jumped back, landing with a soft thud on the grass- a grimace painted onto his usually apathetic features. This Bachira kid was... off. Sneaking up on him twice... at that point, was it really a fluke from him--or the purposeful doing of this cat looking femboy? He had managed to get right next to Yukio without him noticing, speaking into his ear. How unsettling.
"Nothing. Learn some personal space."
His snappy response only elicited a silly little smirk from Bachira, the irritating individual sticking his tongue out with a little wink.
"Hey, Kon. Do you know why I snuck up on you like that?"
Yukio raised a brow, keeping silent, allowing the bumblebee to continue.
"I have a monster in me."
.
.
.
"Are you schizophrenic?"
Yukio's comment came from a place of genuine concern, his tone softening slightly as he leaned down, eyeing Bachira up and down.
That response seemed to be something unexpected, inciting a burst of bubbly laughter from the teen in front of him--the former laughing to the point of buckling over.
"Nii-chan?"
Isagi.
Yukio's head whipped around immediately, his eyes--which were previously inspecting Bachira, mildly perturbed, were now laser focused on Isagi.
'I reeeallly didn't want to see him here...'
It was strange, really. One would have expected that Yukio would be ecstatic to see his brother at his place of work, especially considering that his little wide eyed baby brother was one of the only things in life which brought him genuine joy, but no. He was uh... eh... embarrassed.
IT WASN'T HIS FAULT, ISAGI WAS THE ONE WHO DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF KNOCKING ON DOORS--probably because Yukio never had anything to hide, nor did he care about his brother intruding on his space-whats his was theirs after all, but this was different...
... Suggestive content ahead ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! You have been warned!!
"S-Sae- fuuuck."
Yukio fell onto his bed, hands wrapped around his lovers neck--all heavy breathing and soft whines.
"Hm?"
Sae didn't seem to pay him any mind, focused on softly sucking the side of his neck, the redheads perpetually cold hands sliding under the soft turtleneck Yukio wore, freezing against his flushed skin.
"aaaargh. You're cold..."
"Don't be a baby," Sae chided softly--tutting under his breath as Yukio hooked his finger under the hovering redheads belt loops, tugging with urgency.
"M'not a baby. You're just in denial... fucking ice cube."
How bratty. Sae had been so kind as to leave Spain, drop all of his appointments and interviews, even rushing and risking being found by the media to see his boyfriend... yet here Yukio was-still so entitled. It was as if he wanted Sae to be mean.
"Tsk tsk. That's not how you treat your midfielder you know? It's almost like you're asking for trouble."
The redhead wasn't even given an answer, unless a harsh bite on the nape of his neck was one... a bite which would surely bruise. Sae couldn't deny the fact that Yukio little attitude wasn't turning him on. It had been a while, and his striker was just begging for it, for him- for his--
"Yuk- oh."
Isagi was standing there, in the doorway-staring wide eyed at the two.
-Said two, who were definitely, clearly not fornicating just moments ago- separated faster than the drop of a pin, with Sae letting out a soft cough as he held his neck, rubbing the spot which Yukio had just bitten, hiding the quickly forming bruise from view.
Yukio quickly rolled up the neck of his (cough) turtleneck, avoiding eye contact.
"You uh, needed something, Yoichi?"
The flushed striker let out a choked cough, struggling to look at his younger brother, who seemed... a bit traumatized.
"Yeah... You left your jacket in the living room. You know mom gets pissed when you leave clothing lying around."
Isagi nodded slowly, reaching out a delicate arm to hand Yukio's jacket over, the former having already have gotten up to take it.
"Thanks... now GET OUT!!"
With a startled yelp, Yoichi was pushed out of the room, stumbling a few steps back.
'I literally just gave him his jacket, what an asshole!'
...
"Oh wow! You guys are brothers?!"
Bachira let out a shout of surprise, his already huge eyes widening even more, causing Yukio to freeze up. He had paused for too long.
"Yeeeeeesssss?"
"Yeah, you couldn't tell?"
Isagi strolled up to his older brother, glancing between Yukio and Bachira with mild concern. His eyes then caught sight of the discarded jacket, name tag plastered on the front. The two then shared a silent glance of understanding.
"WOW! I didn't know you had a brother!"
Yoichi simply nodded, sensing Yukio's discomfort, changing the subject.
"You said something about a monster inside you, Bachira?"
The hyperactive participant seemed to be easily distracted, nodding quickly--previously bright smile becoming something a bit more sinister... foreboding? Whatever the right word for whatever that clusterfuck happening on his face was.
"The monster speaks to me, you know? During tag today, it told me to pass to you Isagi... and it told me that you were strong, Kon. That's why I snuck up on you, the monster told me you would leave if I didn't catch you by surprise!"
'Okay, there was something seriously wrong with this guy.'
Yukio looked down at his brother, who glanced back up at him-a similar look in his eyes. The younger Isagi frowned for a moment, looking to Bachira.
.
.
.
"Are you schizophrenic?"
Notes:
Short end segment (short skit after Yoichi witnessed his brother getting bitches... or more accurately, bitched.)
ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
'Is he crazy? Doing this stuff in the house..? Gross. Im never heading into that room ever again.'
Yoichi sat on his bed, disgust slowly settling in.
"Whatever, it's not that big of a deal... He's an adult. He can do what he wants."
The teen sweatdropped.
'I don't think I'll ever be able to see him the same after that though... I always thought my brother would top?'
He brought a hand up to his chin, thoughtful. In Isagi's eyes, Yukio was an all powerful, deity like figure... as unhealthy as that was. The younger had never seen his brother venerable, after all. Maybe that was why him bursting out into tears yesterday was so shocking.
"Oh well. It wasn't a big deal anyways."
-
Back in Yukio's room:
Yukio: IM KILLING MYSELF. I CAN NEVER SHOW MY FACE TO HIM EVER AGAINNNNNN--
Sae: ...So, we're not continuing?
Yukio: ...well, I mean... I uh- I'm not gonna say no?
Chapter 9: Lets play. - introduction to cast
Summary:
Yukio meets Nagi, Rin, Ikki Niko, Baro, Wanima brothers (I hate the wanima brothers)
Alsoooo.... If you check the beginning notes, there's a new Pinterest board (Moodboard) :3
-I also added more drawings of Yukio (freaky warning)Sae makes an appearance btw :3 (more freaky warning because I love saying gex bro)
(no actual say gex--in this chapter)
Notes:
BRO IM SO EMBARASSESDEFDLJKL IVE BEEN USING STRATUM V-X-Y ETC INSTEAD OF STRATUM 1-2-3
IM ENDING IT RIGHT NOW WTF
just pretend I've been using numbers goodosfijdlskjfdsljflsjlkjslfkjsd im not going back to change it cause im too lazy im sorry :(
Since I said his office was between W and X, lets just say that its between stratums 5 and 4
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Gyatt Fan #3000
Yeah, and I was like
U schizo or something like wtf???
Like wym you have a monster inside you??
werido
I see.
It must have been a strange experience.
It was weird as hellllll
and scary too
like he wouldn't stop sneaking up on me
I almost beat his ass bro
Huh.
Must've been a bit stressful, no?
Hella stressful.
Need these hoes dead smh
this place sucks ass
I wish I was w/ you
Watch out for me on in the news then.
I had an interview today, and an article should be out soon.
That Jinpachi man was there too.
I saw him in a separate room talking with a bunch of reporters with that Teieri woman.
It really did seem interesting.
I can have Aoi send you my schedule for the next few days so you know what I'm doing.
Whaaat???
You'd do that for me??? (Also, I TOLD YOU! Blue Lock is pretty interesting, but I do hate it... So tedious.)
♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )
I LOVE YOUUUUU
I love you too.
delivered
Yukio felt himself light up, smiling like a madman at his phone, giggling like a schoolgirl as he sat in his office; knees brought to his chest. His hands were quick to shoot off a reply- at least, before his office door slowly opened, the pentagon shaped iron door sliding open with a heavy thud-metallic and mechanical just like all other doors in this god forsaken facility.
"?" He looked up, mildly annoyed.
Two strange figures stood in the doorway of his office, one with an unsettling grin, the other with crocodile shaped eyebrows and a heavyset frown.
A quiet sigh left Yukio's lips. Damn, this facility sure had him down in the dumps... With a swift move, Yukio pushed himself into a more professional position, turning to look at one of the monitors on his large desk space.
Today was Wednesday. Wednesdays were paperwork days, which meant no training, but still very irritating work. Sending polite emails to soccer officials wasn't his thing. Nor was looking over contracts, or anything which required to sit still in general.
This Wednesday was different though.
Since it was the first week of the Blue Lock facility opening, Ego had so kindly requested Yukio to either:
1. Drag his ass to the stratums and meet the players in person
or two:
Invite leading (strikers Yukio was mildly interested in) players to his office today to have a short interview and introduction.
The monitor on his left had his schedule, which had an interview with the Wanima brothers scheduled at 2 PM, and the one on his right was a player information sheet which was opened automatically the moment anybody tried to enter his office (which was also conveniently connected to his dormitory).
If Yukio had to give Ego credit for anything, it would be the security in this facility. Before anybody could open a door which lead to any mildly important room, they had to confirm their identity-being scanned by one of the security cameras placed above each door.
For Yukio's office, unless you were accompanied by the Isagi, manually let in, or had an interview scheduled, nobody could enter... A security measure he himself quite appreciated.
"Hehehehehe! About time! We were called in for an interview?"
The smiling one- Keisuke, Yukio assumed after a glance at his right monitor, laughed.
'What an annoying voice. He's not making it far. I know it.'
One look was all it took. The high pitched, little bitchy one was irritating. What was even worse, was that he was arrogant.
In the world of soccer, arrogance is what can make you lose it all. I mean, just take a look at Snuffy-- or more specifically, his best friend. Mick Moon. Like actually RIP moon man. He was a good player- aaand Yukio was getting distracted again.
"You were."
The impassive employee motioned for the two to sit down, having already prepared two chairs for them.
'Should I have invited them in one by one? No, crocodile eyebrows doesn't talk unless he's with his brother... at least, I think.'
Yukio had spent quite a while watching the teams of strikers while choosing who to interview. As strange as it was, especially for somebody of his demeanor, the man was surprisingly thorough.
"We must be good players if you invited us to an interview.. but that's already expected- Is what my brother would say if THIS ROOM WASN'T SO DAMN SMELLY."
'Oh HELL NO.'
First off, Yukio's room did NOT smell. He had simply doused it in a perfectly reasonable amount of Japanese yuzu and sandalwood perfume to cover up the omnipresent smell of the antiseptic he would use after bad days.
Second off, he was going to make sure Isagi destroyed these two. There was nothing that made two people closer than a common enemy, he would know. That was how Yukio and Sae created their first chemical reaction, after all.
He scowled at the frowning brother who was coughing up a storm... how dramatic.
'Whatever. Lets just get this over with...'
...
The interview... went how he expected it to.
Boring.
The two brothers were so incredibly dull. There was a bit of promise within the younger brother, Junichi- but Keisuke had no chance.
He finished typing up his notes, sending them to Ego before checking his schedule once more.
He couuuuullld get some paperwork done in the (close to an) hour he had before his next interview at three, but what was the fun in that? It's easier to work when you're in a stressful situation anyways.
It was only until a few minutes after he had begun playing Tetris on his monitor before he realized that he hadn't messaged Sae.
"oh fuck."
Sae wasn't informed of the interviews he had today, having no context to why Yukio had suddenly stopped talking and set his phone to DND. All that the redhead knew was that his boyfriend was messaging him, and suddenly stopped.
Considering how Yukio's little loverboy's only information about present time Yukio was that he hated his job and had a previous history of self harm and suicide attempts, it wouldn't be wrong of him to assume that his boyfriend had been messaging him before... ending it all, or something.
'this is nooootttt a good look.'
He immediately tried to call Sae, but none of his calls went through. Then, Yukio checked his messages.
Oh crap.
.
.
.
He was totally screwed.
Gyatt Fan #3000
I love you too.
Yukio? Are you there?
I saw you typing, what happened?
Yukio?
Why is your phone on do not disturb?
Hello?
I'm going to call you now. Pick up.
Pick up, Yukio. I'm getting worried.
If you're playing a prank on me, it's not funny.
You're stressing me out, Yukio.
I'm heading over.
If something bad happened to you, I'm making sure you quit that Blue Lock program for good.
I knew you should've never left Spain.
Please be okay.
.
.
fuck.
Sa e! !
IM SO SORRY
EVERYTHING IS OKAY!!!
IM FINE!!
I HAD AN INTERVIEW SCHEDULED AND THESE TWO GUYS CAME IN FOR IT
EVERYTHING IS FINE!!!!
DONT PANIC PLEASE!
IM SO SORRY
(˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥)
PLEASE FORGIVE ME
I LOVE YOU
DON'T MAKE A SCENE PLEAAAAASEEEE
AASDKFJASLDKJF
IM SO SORRRYYY
ARE YOU SERIOUSLY COMING HERE????
EGO WILL FREAK!!
AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY
Maybe in a good way actually, but PROBABLY NOT!
PLEASE SAE
IM SORRY
I'LL KISS YOU HELLO THE NEXT TIME WE MEET, OKAY?
ILL DO ANYTHING YOU WANNNNTTTTT
PLEASE DON'T BE MAAAAAAAD
(˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥)
delivered
"Fuuuuckkk... Im cooked. He left me on delivered..."
Yukio sweatdropped, letting his head hit his table unceremoniously, groaning loudly.
There was no stopping Sae when he got worked up, no stopping him at all... How tragic. Curse those two brothers, it was all their fault.
'No use regretting it now... at least I'll be able to see his face. Sae is gorgeous no matter what.
...
His next two interviews were fine. One was with some routine obsessed maniac (Barou) who wouldn't stop calling him a donkey. He was uh, spirited, or whatever. The man had talent, and was a good striker though, so Yukio supposed he got a pass. His arrogance was to another level though, which Yukio didn't exactly appreciate. At least Barou had actual skill to back it up though.
Ikki Niko. Yukio wasn't sure how to describe him. Not exactly arrogant, but not insecure either. Analytical, perhaps. Maybe even a bit afraid to step into the limelight. A supporting character, unless he learned how to change his fate, anyways. No complaints from Yukio though. He could pass, he could fail. The Fuujin couldn't care even a little bit.
If Yukio was to be genuine, he would've liked to call in some other players... Especially that Hiori guy, or maybe Kiyora... Tokimitsu... even that irritating Karasu. But, it wasn't worth getting into any of those players just yet. The Wanima brothers, along with Barou and Niko would be the main competitors with his brother in this selection, including the rich and lazy duo he would be calling in after his lunch break. Everybody else could come after.
.
.
.
6 PM. Second to last interview of the day.
Interview with Mikage Reo and Seishiro Nagi.
The lavender headed Mikage strode into the room, an aura of professionalism and authority surrounding him, no doubt from the countless years he was trained in business. The milk haired boy next to him, unlike Mikage, had no such aura of authority, simply... existing. No ego, no ambition, nothing. An unburnt candle, an unpolished gem.
'Thats what I think, anyways.'
Upon first glance, it was easy to tell who was the one that genuinely cared about soccer (hint, it wasn't Seishiro).
Perhaps Mikage had expected Yukio to be formal, and even a bit intimidating, considering the fact that he was working for Ego, but nope! Yukio was just drained. Socialization was hard, especially in a eat or be eaten environment like Blue Lock.
"Heeeeyyyyy, uh, welcome. Sorry, got hungry."
Yukio wrappers scattered on his desk, the majority of them being a variety of jellies. Strawberry and lychee were the most common, from Reo's quick glance across the desk, just moments before his interviewer swept them all off onto the floor in a smooth motion.
The hier to the Mikage corporation grimaced as he watched everything fall onto the floor, the majority of the wrappers missing the trash can placed at the side of Kons' desk.
"You called us in for an interview, Kon?"
He smiled, fake and businesslike, hands cupped together, elbows on the desk. Reo immediately took possession of the conversation, asserting his presence in the room.
"what a hassle..."
Reo glanced over to his treasure, snatching away his phone and patting him softly on the head, smiling fondly.
"I'll make it up to you later Nagi, try to keep off your phone. This is an important interview, you know?"
Yukio glanced between the two.
'Seishiro was lazy, Mikage was assertive and took the lead... were they like, gay lovers or something? Whatever, its not his place to pry.'
"Excuse me."
Reo immediately turned his head back to Yukio, his faux smile plastered upon his face once more, leaning forward on the desk.
"Right, apologies. Lets get on with the interview, yes?"
.
.
.
7:30 PM.
'that interview took too damn long.'
Yukio let out a deep sigh, leaning down to pick up the clutter on his floor-wanting to clean up before Sae arrived.
"Riiiight. His brother is here too, isn't he?"
The male took off his sunglasses, something he kept on no matter where he was, placing them onto his desk, crouching down to clean.
Should I call him in? That would... Sae doesn't exactly have a good relationship with Rin... I don't know--well...
Yukio thought back to when he asked Sae about his younger brother... bringing a finger up to his chin thoughtfully.
"He's angry with me right now, but that's just because he's having a rebellious phase. It's best if you don't see him until he gets over it."
"Sae just said Rin was having a rebellious phase. It can't be all bad. I'll call him in. Plus, why would anybody hate Sae?"
...
ITOSHI RIN, PLEASE REPORT TO THE 5/4 STRATUM OFFICE IMMEDIATELY. KON IS REQUESTING YOU.
Rin immediately looked up from the field he was practicing on, ignoring the whispers of his teammates, heading out.
He didn't know why he was being called in. What could he have done?
The apathetic striker had memorized the layout of the facility on day one, walking through the hallways without urgency, mulling over the possible wrongs he could have committed to end up being summoned to Kons' office, whoever the hell that was.
...
"Wow, he really does look like Sae."
Yukio mumbled quietly to himself, drumming his fingers softly on his desk--admittedly jittery.
He had never met any of his boyfriend's family before. Maybe because they weren't close, but Yukio would like to think that he was likable... enough, to (at minimum) have a cordial relationship with his future brother in law.
With a soft "you got this," to hype himself up, Yukio watched impassively as Rin entered, feigning nonchalance.
"Rin."
Fuck, was he too mean? Was his tone too harsh?? Aaarghghghg he's so nervouuuusssss.
The younger brother of his husband-sorry, boyfriend, looked unimpressed- simply standing there... unmoving.
'I need to ask Sae if his family has a history of autism, cause what the fuck is this?'
"Sit down."
Yukio gestured for the still silent man to sit down, only for him not to do as told... maybe he really was in his rebellious phase, or maybe he was just an asshole.
"Why am I here?"
'Seriously? Literally just sit down. It's not that hard...'
Yukio felt like banging his head against the wall. Why were all the Itoshi's so difficult to deal with??? BE NORMAL, GODDAMN!
"Uh..."
'I'm dating your brother and wanted to meet you? I want you to like me? I want to see how good you are at soccer? I want to have a relationship with you?'
Yukio was struggling for a moment to form a sentence before finally blurting out;
"I'm dating soccer and want a relationship to like you.?"
'Somebody kill me now.'
Rin continued looking impassive, although slightly more confused... and disgusted.
"FUCK. Just, ignore that. I fucked up my speaking- you're sorta intimidating. Just sit down... please?"
The frowning Itoshi eventually obeyed with some minor hesitation, sitting down on one of the two chairs in front of Yukio's desk.
"Thank you. Uh... so like, I'm supposed to be doing interviews with people here that I find to have potential, which is why you're here."
"What about the dating thing?" Rin raised an eyebrow, looking even less confused, and more... disgusted.
Yukio let out a soft sigh, glancing to the side. He didn't even blame Rin... if some random guy named dark blue called him from practice at seven PM without telling him what for... the striker might just have thrown hands, depending on how locked in he was during said practice.
'Wow! Sae would be proud. I'm actually actively attempting to empathize with somebody. incredible!!'
"Riiight. uh..."
Yukio's eyes widened as his phone started ringing.
'CRAP! SAE WAS CALLING!'
His monitor showed the security feed outside of his room, and there he was... SAE ITOSHI, WHO HAD SOMEHOW MANAGED TO GET PAST ALL OF THE OTHER PLAYERS, STANDING THERE... MENACINGLY.
"I'm screwed."
Yukio mumbled, eyes blown wide, staring at his monitor.
"OKAY! RIN, pllleaaaseee don't freak, and pleaaaase just hide under my desk."
If his predictions were correct, Sae was either going to, one, rage at Yukio, or two, rage at Yukio... just, in a less conventional way.
The teen sitting in front of him seemed even more confused now, brows furrowing by a fraction.
'Thank Buddha for these soundproof walls.'
"I'mdatingyourbrotherandhegotmadatmeandhe'shererigthnowandi'mnotsupposedtotalktoyoubecausehesaysyou'rehavingarebelliousphaseandnowyouneedtohide,butyoucanthideinmyroombecausehe'sprobablygonnabargeinthere."
Holy word vomit bro.
"YOU'RE WHAT?"
Wow, genuine emotion from the younger brother. That's a new one.
Sae stood up suddenly, slamming his hands against the table, furious.
"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU-"
"NOT ENOUGH TIME, JUST HIDE!"
Yukio, with strength that Rin had not expected-like, at all, yanked the six foot one striker over the desk, shoving him underneath the wooden structure, rolling the chair to his chest-knocking the wind out of him, keeping the Itoshi in place.
"Please keep quiet."
The person who had just ASSAULTED HIM, now had the absolute GALL to ask Rin to keep silent? Especially since said person was apparently DATING HIS BROTHER? God DAMNIT he was NOT going to keep quiet.
Rin had half the mind to just burst out from underneath the table to cuss Kon out before he heard the metal door opening, and a familiar, icy voice.
"Yukio."
"Sae- it's Kon, don't go around exposing me- seriously."
'So that irritating interviewer was using an alias... Not that it was unexpected... but, Yukio.. where had he heard that name before..?'
"Why should I give a damn? Huh? You scared the shit out of me."
Rin felt his heart clench slightly. Sae was worried, for.. Yukio. He was using the same scolding-affectionate tone he would use with Rin whenever he got drool over his shirt while playing soccer--back when they were kids.
"I'm soooorrrryyyyyy-"
Yukio was cut off.
"You owe me something."
A slight pause.
"YOU ASSHOLE! YOU TURNED OFF READ RECEIPTS JUST TO SCARE ME? SERIOUSLY?"
"You still owe me something."
Yukio scoffed, staring at the eyes of his lover, who looked angry-and mildly smug. What a bitch.
"You're lucky you're the treasure of Japan," he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss onto his boyfriend's lips, dragging him further into the room.
"Somebody might see, let's go to my room."
Yukio attempted to redirect Sae to the door of his dormitory, which was on the other side of his room, behind the desk... uh oh.
'Rin, for the love of everything good in this world, do NOT make a sound...'
Rin, who was still hiding under the desk- feeling cramped, frowned as he saw Yukio walking with his brother, who was--all over the male.
Sae couldn't keep his hands off of Yukio, unzipping the latter's jacket, undoing his tie and tossing it to the side, reaching a hand under his turtleneck.
"Sae- hey- wait, you're so damn impatient."
"Not my fault I'm pent up. Your brother was always there whenever I tried to-"
Yukio slapped a hand over his lovers mouth, slightly irked, but more embarrassed.
'My brother huh? How ironic.'
The male shivered slightly as Sae dug his nails into the side of his ribs, letting out a small hiss, reaching up and pinching the redheads ear.
"We can have fun in the bed. Move it."
Sae let out a low chuckle, breath slightly labored.
"Anything for you, love."
Rin didn't know if he should be in awe at how... affectionate his brother was being, or be disgusted. Probably both.
He stared as Sae held onto Yukio's side, tracing his hand underneath the mans shirt, the two of them stumbling into Yukio's room. Sae frowned at Yukio when the latter glanced to him, and then the door.
He had half the mind to stay, but that was just an intrusive thought. Even watching his brother kiss somebody was a bit too disgusting for him.
'If I want to surpass Sae, will I need to surpass that annoying bug first?' The previously hidden player stood up, walking out of Yukio's office.
Rin knew that if Sae was willingly touching Yukio, that meant he must be a good player. Rin was just unwilling to admit that fact... because it would mean there was another person between him and his brother.
...
Yukio stared down at Sae, who currently was busying himself with leaving bruising bites all over his thighs with a resigned expression.
'I should call off tomorrow... for a break.. and maybe the day after too... Fuuuck.'
Notes:
Can we tell I really want to write Sae getting freaky????
sorry if this chapter is sorta fucked tho.. im tired as helllllllll and its late...
Lowkey wanted to get the introduction to characters over with, which is why my fellow ocd haver Barou didn't show up too much :( Idk what I wanna write for him ngl, probably gonna mull over him and Niko- but don't worry, they will get screen time :) or is it fan fiction time?? idk bro im dying here its already ten pm I've been writing for like two hours (including getting distracted every 20 seconds, but that's different)
Also, my writing does have a lot of perspective changes here and there, so I really hope that it isn't too confusing to keep up with! I've noticed my writing is very uh, everywhere and everything, all at once-esque.
I actually don't know when to use apostrophe s. Ex:
Kons'; Kons; Kon's
like whats the difference??? I get its like nouns or whatever but I also don't remember what a noun is... Like I remember learning about them, I just forgot.... sooooo. I'm also not good at using : and ;, so any help with my grammar is appreciated 😭😭 im less capable than you believe me to be.
Rin and Isagi can confide in each other with their shared trauma of witnessing their brothers NOT fraternizing now!
Chapter 10: First selection - backstory
Summary:
Blue lock (Neo-egoist league) spoilers in the upcoming chapters!! If you guys wanna find somewhere to read the manga illegally, it's linked in beginning notes.
Notes:
I wanna get through first and second selection as soon as possible so I can get to Neo-egoist, so up until then it'll probably be slight mentions of what Isagi is doing, and more of Yukio's backstory.
Read BLLK illegally here :3: https://mangafire.to/manga/blue-lockk.kw9j9
I'm probably getting times wrong, but from my knowledge, after Japan U20, Ego says that the U20 World Cup would be in about 6 months time, so I'm gonna go with the assumption that Selection 1 to Neo-Egoist took about 3 months (I don't wanna write too much about the selections, and will definitely either go under or over the 3 months plan, so forgive me for that :( I'm not good with days and crap, plus I don't think it matters that much).
If the above paragraph is a bit ineligible, what I mean is:
1. I don't know how long Selections 1-3 to Neo-Egoist league took in terms of months
2. Since I don't know how long those arc's took, I'm going to assume they took 3 months in total
3. Since I'm assuming they took 3 months in total, all time skips and crap I write should be within the 3 month limit (and if you see any inconsistencies, I apologize 😭😭)
4. Since I don't wanna write the selections (they're lowk boring to write), it'll mainly be about Yukio, his backstory, and interactions with the cast.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A/N: I know not a lot of people read the summary/authors notes, but check beginning notes for a link to read the BLLK manga (no ads :3)
Isagi is learning.
How to turn zero into one--one from zero, the formal for originality.
The formula of a goal. Breaking down the conditions to success.
He'll learn about chemical reactions soon.
"ego types... adaptability, evolution..."
Adaptable <talented> learners... Geniuses. Their coexistence... or their relative relationship, to be more specific.
Sae let out a resigned sigh, turning over in bed, looking at Yukio--sitting agains the headboard, busy mumbling to himself--watching replays of the first selection, scrawling down notes.
It had been a week since the beginning of this project, and first selection had just finished--with second selection not too far in the horizon. Sae had also been at the Blue Lock facility for a week, staying with Yukio, practicing with him, leaving only for interviews and press appearances.
Currently, his bipolar; neurotic boyfriend was spewing some soccer theory on adaptability and ego types.
"Yukio."
Just by uttering his name, Sae could call Yukio to attention... It was, sort of cute, how much Yukio paid attention to Sae's voice specifically.
"Mh? Yeah, Sae?"
The redhead tilted his head slightly at Yukio's dismissive answer, watching as he wrote in that barely legible, cursive kanji script.
"You're ignoring me."
"I am?"
"You are."
Yukio pushed his papers to the side, laying back down, staring directly at Sae.
"Sorry, I was uh, locked in-for lack of a better phrase."
Sae chuckled slightly at Yukio's admission, hugging the tired looking male.
"It's fine. You should get some sleep though. It's been a long day. Practice was draining, no?"
"It was."
"Then sleep."
"I will."
With a soft, contented hum, Sae watched as Yukio busied himself with nuzzling into his chest--breath hot against his skin. He trailed his hands up the latter's spine, reaching the back of his neck, fiddling with the long underside of Yukio's hair.
...
"GOAL!"
Sae couldn't stop staring.
That- that annoying, seemingly lukewarm striker just won against him, for the fourth time in a row. He was going to become the worlds best, goddamn it-
What the fuck was wrong with Yukio? He was fifteen, just fifteen, and yet he could jump that abnormally high??
Sae was sure Yukio had broken a world record with that jump.. It looked like one, no, two meters.
"six feet in the air... there's something wrong with him," Sae couldn't help but mumble under his breath, staring wide-eyed at Yukio, who was busy celebrating with his team.
"Isn't it crazy?" Hinata, the only other Japanese speaking boy on his team couldn't help but let out a chuckle of awe as the two of them stared at the same, dark haired boy.
A harsh slap to his back, Sae stumbled a little.
"Don't worry, it's normal here. I know you're new, so you don't know about Yukio, but he's a monster. The media here even calls him the Fuujin. He's incredible."
'Fuujin.'
The buddhist god of wind.
"Don't feel dejected. Even the coaches here struggle when playing against him."
Hinata walked away, an unconcerned smile on his face.
That was the first time Sae had ever tasted defeat, and he hated it. That day was probably the worst day of his life.
Scratch that.
The worst day of his life was the day when Sae found out he would be rooming with Yukio--playing on the same team as him... as second striker. Of course, Yukio was the main striker.
From that day on, it felt as if Yukio was always a step ahead of him.
It was disgusting.
Sae felt less than human.
Every single day he played against Yukio, he became more and more... depressed.
The redhead was supposed to be the treasure of Japanese soccer, yet some unknown was better than him, at... everything.
Jumping? Yukio had him beat--obviously.
Passing? Yukio could kick three times as far as him, two times as high, and five times more accurate.
Receiving? Yukio would always steal the ball from Sae.
Dribbling? Yukio always had better ball control than Sae.
That fucking asshole was a one man team. When Yukio had the ball, nobody else did. How could you get it, when the player who possessed said ball could kick it over your head, and just... jump over you?
Worst of all, Yukio beat him at everything with that stupid smile on his face.
He was never sad, never depressed. Extroverted, easy to get along with, he had... everything.
Maybe that was why it was all the more shocking when he found his teammate with a razor blade in his hands, cutting away at his thighs.
"Yukio... What are you-"
The moment Sae opened his mouth, the bleeding male hid the razor, the silver object disappearing between his fingers--the same slight of hand trick magicians would do to make cards vanish into thin air, causing a crowd to cheer.
Sae wasn't cheering.
He rushed to Yukio's side--reaching to snatch the razor from the back of his hand--where Sae knew it would be.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" The silver blade was discarded with a quick flick of his wrist, clattering somewhere onto the bathroom floor of their shared dorm.
"Haha- nothing, nothing- I'll be fine, lower your voice!"
Sae stared in disbelief at Yukio, who wasn't even concerned in the slightest, even letting out a small chuckle, attempting to push Sae back playfully--like this was some game.
It wasn't a game.
"FUCK! Yukio, how long has this been going on-?" Sae pushed Yukio down, pushing up his hoodie to reveal-
Bruises.
There were hand shaped bruises on Yukio's hips, scratches along his back--raw and red. Bite marks along his chest, some bleeding, others looking on the brink of infection.
He had been making those incredible plays in this condition? It was a miracle that he hadn't doubled over in pain during one of those gymnast like jumps of his...
The teen underneath Sae's hands froze the moment he touched him--the dark haired male's breath quickening, eyes widening, panicked.
'Fuck'
Sae was socially unaware, but not stupid.
He might be too quiet, too hard to talk to, but he wasn't stupid.
Yukio was being sexually abused. It was obvious.
But, if it was obvious, why didn't he notice?
Yukio was cheery, all bright smiles and aura of sunshine--he wasn't supposed to be hurting. He was supposed to be the high energy friend (when had Sae started to refer to Yukio as a friend?) who always dragged Sae to food trucks, farmers markets, and festivals.
Yukio was the one person Sae acknowledged, the one person he would pass to. The one person he would ever consider supporting.
When had he started to focus more on making the best possible passes to Yukio, rather than scoring goals?
"Sorry. I- Yukio-"
He stumbled back momentarily as Yukio ran past him, out the bathroom, their dorm, and into the hallways.
Sae didn't follow.
He stood there.
Silent.
...
Yukio didn't come back until three days later, acting like nothing was wrong.
Maybe nothing was wrong.
If Yukio was still the extroverted, prodigy striker that he always was, maybe... just maybe, nothing was wrong.
Maybe everything was okay.
what a joke.
...
"SAE! I'M OPEN!"
The redhead barley spared a glance for Hinata, hyperfixated on Yukio.
Where was it?
Where could he make the perfect pass?
"Found you."
A quick, cruyff turn was all it took to get past the defenders in his way.
The ball slipped between his legs, past his left foot, back around, and there, the perfect spot for his perfect pass.
Sae executed his pass impeccably, just as Yukio jumped into the air--turning left, right leg shooting up and redirecting the ball up.
'Left leg down, eighty degree spin, kick to the goal.'
A shared vision.
In the years to pass, Yukio would refer to this moment as their first Chemical Reaction.
Sae couldn't care less about chemical reactions.
All he cared about was the feeling that flowed through his very being at that goal.
A goal which ricocheted through the field, the sound of applause, the metal rings connecting the net to the skeleton of their goal clattering, the anguished cries of their opponents.
Pure ecstasy.
Sae thinks that was when he truly unlocked his ego.
That was the day he evolved.
...
Yukio didn't remember it that way.
It was painful.
It burnt.
The feeling of fire along his body as Sae forced him to make that goal was excruciating.
He wanted to rip his skin off- to gouge his eyes out, to bleed out and die.
The cheers of the crowd, the thunderous applause, the shouts-- the flash of cameras...
It was overwhelming.
The only thing that made it even a minuscule amount better was when Sae came to hug him.
He looked happy, so Yukio did too.
He didn't want to be a boring person, after all. He was destined for the limelight.
Even though it hurt, Yukio let Sae squeeze all he wanted. He allowed his teammates to pile on him, shouting his praises--he allowed the paparazzi to ask their redundant questions, to push microphones uncomfortably close to his face.
It was fine.
This was the way it should be.
He had long forgotten the comfort of his home.
...
Coach was happy that day, treating Yukio as if he was the destined rain after a drought.
'Was that all it took?'
'A simple goal?'
It wasn't difficult at all... aside from hurting a little.
He could do it again, if it meant coach would be nice to him.
Yeah, he could do it again...
That night, Yukio imagined it was Sae who was atop him.
...
The next day, Sae and Hinata switched places.
Hinata became second striker, and Sae was "demoted" to midfielder.
It didn't feel like a demotion, if he was honest.
It made him capable passing to Yukio without any restrictions; the media couldn't bash him for only passing, it was his job now.
Yukio seemed happy too, and that was all that mattered.
Notes:
The reason Sae didn't mention Rin when he thought about "the one person" that he would support is because he doesn't consider Rin somebody who needs to be supported. Rin, in his eyes is his brother, therefore strong enough to handle himself. Sure, minor help is obvious, but he believes Rin to be competent enough to become the best striker on his own.
Chapter 11: Second Selection - immediate pass?
Notes:
I've honesty given up on using "Kon" for Yukio's actions, as atp idgaf
I'm probably only gonna use it for the characters who don't know Yukio's true identity, so yeah :P there's your context of the day
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"You want me to WHAT?" Yukio whipped around in his chair, eyes blown wide-- staring at Ego.
The stone faced man stared down at him, sitting in front of the countless screens streaming the participants of second selection, part one.
Yukio couldn't help the way his eyes drifted to Yoichi, who was seen to be scoring goal after goal--quite incredible, considering how he was just a few weeks ago. This program was truly helping him improve.
'I'm so proud of you, Yoichi! Big bro Yukio will always cheer you on--but back on topic.'
"I'm NOT doing that. Do you know how embarrassing it is to pull some crap like that?? Especially with what happened with Rin! He'll definitely try to challenge meeeeee-" With a pouty expression, Yukio spun around in his chair, wailing like a child.
"Whining won't get you out of this. Your boyfriend left anyways, so you'll need to keep yourself occupied with something else but the nasty crap you've been doing with him. In MY facility, nonetheless," Ego stared down his nose at Yukio with disgust, pointing at the door, past the confused looking Anri.
"What things?" The redheaded assistant tilted her head slightly, turning away from her section of the room, glancing between the two cautiously. The ego's on those two, really...
"NOTHING! I'M LEAVING. SCREW YOU JINPACHI!"
Yukio stormed out of the room in a flurry, flushed embarrassingly red.
"Is he okay?" Anri raised a brow, glancing over to Ego with a concerned expression.
"Teenage angst. Go do my laundry."
"Seriously? Isn't he eighteen?"
"Go do my laundry."
"Fine."
...
"You."
"Me, yes."
Yukio couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed, glancing to the side--circular sunglasses pressed up to the top of his nose, hiding his eyes.
Did Rin seriously have to be the FIRST person to finish? This sucked...
"Uh, sorry about your brother. You didn't need to witness that," with a slightly bashful expression, he apologized, tone cautious.
"I don't care. What are you doing here?"
'This bitch-!'
Whatever, it wasn't worth his time to argue. He just wanted to get this over with.
"I'm here as an immediate passing score. If you can beat me in a one on one, you get to skip the rest of second selection. Sound good?"
Yukio pointed above him, to the sign which read:
Beat me in a 1V1 to immediately pass!
If I'm not present, please wait.
Rin simply stared at him, eyes not drifting away for even a moment.
Yukio sweatdropped.
'I wonder if Sae's family really does have a history of autism...'
"Okay. Easy enough. Hurry up, I don't have time to waste for some tepid shit like this."
'Yep, definitely autism.'
"aaaaalright then."
With one swift motion, Yukio stood up and adjusted his tie, leisurely walking off, not waiting for Rin to follow.
...
"Sae told me about how you lost to him... after Spain," Yukio attempted to make small talk as they walked through the barren hallways, although his choice of topic probably wasn't the best, considering the way Rin's shoulders tensed.
'Sensitive subject, huh? Noted. Don't talk about Sae.'
"I'll win the next time I see him. I'll kill him."
'Oh!'
"I uh, I see. So your motivation for coming here was to improve your skills and eventually surpass Sae?"
No response.
'So... yes.'
Yukio had never wanted to leave a situation quicker... aside from maybe back then. But oh well!
"We're here," with a flourish, he brought his hands out to display the field in front of them, the two blue lock men goalies, and the singular soccer ball in the middle.
"Just a word of warning though, one on one's are my specialty. You won't pass--but if you're good enough, I might just give you some advice!"
Rin simply shrugged him off, walking onto the field without a care-- how rude.
'Even Sae was easier to talk to...'
"Ahem, okay then! We'll start when the whistle blows."
"Get ready to die."
"How enthusiastic of you."
FWEEEE!
The whistle blew, and Rin was blown away.
He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.
Tepid? Mediocre? Boring?
Whatever impression Yukio had given him, Rin was never so wrong.
The moment that fucking whistle rang out through the room, Yukio flew into action.
One quick flick of his foot, and the ball was above both of their heads.
'Is he stupid?'
There was no way Yukio could reach that ball. Rin was 6'1, and even with his incredible jump height, he wouldn't have even touched that ball, so how was some 5'11, brother stealing asshole like him going to--
150 feet. 50 yards. From the center circle to the goal. From six feet in the air to the goal.
'What the FUCK.'
The universe was truly unfair. With just a few weeks of training, Yukio had returned to peak performance, quickly surpassing his peak.
An unstoppable force.
"How did you-" Rin couldn't even finish his sentence, as Yukio was already walking away, heading back the direction they had come from--acting as if his goal wasn't something godsent--a move which couldn't have been replicated by anybody else. True originality.
Rin had another competitor.
If this was the type of person who was recognized by Sae--who was strong enough to be of equal standing to his brother, Rin had some work to do.
"I'll devour you, shithead."
Yukio couldn't help the wolfish grin from appearing on his face. That was it. That was what he was looking for. Entertainment. Something that could fix him.
Blue Lock was exactly what he needed.
Notes:
A U-20 soccer field is 100yd long by 70yd wide (according to google), and during BLLK vs Jpn U-20, its shown that Sae can pass about 50-70m (around 150-210ft), so this story will be continued with the assumption that Yukio and Sae are around the same skill level :3 ty
The reason Rin doesn't know who Yukio is, is due to the fact his emo ahh was too focused on beating Sae, so yeah!
- rin was also shown to be able to score from the halfway line btw (sorry for short chapter)
Chapter 12: and today I cried
Summary:
angst.
TW: SUICIDE, MENTIONS OF DRUG USE
im a sucker for fluffy endings, so this chapter has a happy one :)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
𝙔𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮.
𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙩.
𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙚, 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚.
𝙔𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙖', 𝙥𝙖', 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬.
𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚.
𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞.
𝙈𝙤𝙢, 𝘿𝙖𝙙. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙩.
𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
𝙎𝙖𝙚.
𝙄'𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮.
𝙏𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙃𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙖 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙝𝙞.
𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.
𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚.
𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚.
𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
A dry chuckle escaped Yukio's cracked lips, the striker sinking deeper into the warm water of the bathtub, watching with morbid intrigue as red infected the beautiful, clear liquid around him.
"I'm going to die."
He stared up at the blank, clinical ceiling, a realization hitting him.
"I'm going to die."
𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙮.
𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚.
𝘐𝘧 𝙄 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
"Yukio?"
Sae stepped tentatively into their shared dorm, eyes darting around the dark entranceway. He had left practice early-not even changing out of his jersey- although with no idea why. Something told him to leave.
something was wrong.
so, so, incredibly wrong.
"Yukio?" Sae felt himself begin to panic, not bothering to take off his cleats, rushing throughout the dorm.
Living room? Not there. Kitchen? Nope. Bedroom? No.
Yukio was always in his room these days.
"Yukio- Yukio? Where are you..?"
He hadn't checked the bathroom yet.
Sae felt his hand freeze, hovering over the door handle.
WRONG, WRONG, WRONG. Something was so so so wrong.
Sae was scared of what he would see.
He pushed on the door, trying the handle.
It was locked.
FUCK.
The redhead became more panicked, rattling the door handle, cursing under his breath.
"YUKIO! LET ME IN! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" With a slam of his fist, Sae began pounding on the wooden barrier--the only thing preventing him from seeing Yukio.
From finding out if he was still alive or not.
He didn't realize it yet, but Sae was screaming, throwing his shoulder to the door- pleading for Yukio to let him in. It was good nobody was around. Sae didn't scream, and Yukio was okay. It was okay. He was okay. They were both okay.
what a fucking lie.
With one final slam of his shoulder, the door gave.
Shit shit shit shit. No way no way no way no way-- he didn't- Yukio didn't- there was no way-
this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be happening.
THIS COULDN'T BE HAPPENING.
"YUKIO!"
Sae screamed as he rushed to the boy's side, hands wrapping around the limp form of his... friend? lover? partner in crime? What-- what was he? Why did Sae even care so much? Plus, everything was okay. It was always okay.
It was okay when their coach died--the police didn't find out. It was okay when he saw Yukio flinch as Hinata grabbed his arm, when the small crimson droplet of blood ran down his palm. It was okay when he found Yukio hunched over the toilet, with white, powdery lines that he pretended not to notice on the side of the sink counter.
What had happened? Sae glanced around, eyes wide, looking for anything that could help, reaching desperately in his pocket for his phone, hands coated in blood.
Fuck, there was so much blood.
Long, red streaks marred the smooth underarms of the ivory pale boy in his arms, gushing out tidal waves of blood, staining the pristine white bathroom tiles a deep vermillion.
Sae dialed 112, shakily holding the phone up to his ear, breath ragged.
"Please help him, please help him, please--"
Sae couldn't breathe. He couldn't get his words out correctly.
He needed to be able to speak--he had to breathe so he could get Yukio help. Please Sae, useless, mediocre, lukewarm Sae, please get your act together for once. Save him.
.
Here he was now sitting in a Spanish ambulance, watching blankly as the first responders rushed to put pressure on Yukio's wounds, shouting at each other.
Something about saving the genius.
Saving the pride of the youth team.
Yukio hated being called a genius.
Yukio would hate this.
Sae looked away, eyes turning to his hands, wrapped securely around his own arms. The redheads eyes widened with realization... or was he really realizing anything? His mind felt blank. He heard nothing but the ringing in his, ears, saw nothing but the crimson blood and rose colored crescents indented in his limbs.
He was bleeding. Just like how Yukio was. Red. Although, not nearly as violently.
The crumpled notes sat in his pockets; Sae was too afraid to read them.
.
Yukio looked up at the blank, clinical ceiling.
Not the pearly gates of heaven. Not the six paths, not even at the river of Styx.
A blank, clinical ceiling.
Actually, no. He was wrong. It wasn't just a blank, clinical ceiling. He could see the bars of a hospital bed around him, sheets drawn, a blood bag hung nearby.
It wasn't the blank clinical ceiling of his bathroom, no. It was that of a hospital. If Yukio focused hard enough, he could hear the faint beeping of a heart monitor and the sounds of soft crying nearby.
Soft... Crying? Who was crying? Why were they crying? Was it over him? Why would anybody cry over him?
"my head hurts."
Almost immediately, the crying ceased, the blue curtains surrounding his bed being ripped open with force.
"yukio."
Sae's words were almost inaudible, too quiet for Yukio to pick up on. The hospitalized boy had to read the lips of the redhead above him.
Had Sae been crying? How silly. Why would anybody cry over him?
A shaky hand reached up to touch the redheads tangled bangs, feeling the smooth hair underneath his numb fingers.
Why had he wanted to die? That was such a silly thought. Why would he want to die when Sae was here? What was wrong with him, making the midfielder cry like this.
A salty tear dropped onto the corner of Yukio's mouth, seeping between his lips.
How strange. Sae's tears tasted the exact same as his own. How funny. Perhaps the two weren't so different. After all, Yukio was a terrible person, but he supposed... he was still just a person. Just as Sae, no matter how gorgeous, amazing, and kind he was, was just a person. He was just like Yukio, and Yukio was just like him.
"don't cry... you'll get wrinkles."
With a small chuckle, Yukio pulled Sae down by his bangs, hand migrating to the back of his head, tousling the mop of red hair.
Their lips touched.
They kissed.
Softly. Barley grazed each other, even, but it was still a kiss.
Sae stared down at Yukio, eyes blown wide, pupils dilated. He didn't know if he wanted to kill the weakly laughing boy beneath him, or if he wanted to kiss again.
He could kill Yukio later.
.
"What is WRONG with you, Yukio!"
Sae chastised Yukio, tone harsh, although his actions directly contrasted said tone.
The two were bundled under the blankets together, Sae softly cradling Yukio's smug form, threading his hands through his raven locks. With a rough tap to the back of his head, Yukio whined.
"soooorrry."
"The doctors found out about your little drug escapades, idiot! What'll happen to your soccer career!?" Another rough hit was directed to the back of the boys scalp, before being soothed with a warm palm.
Sae's comment went unanswered, simply inciting a sigh from Yukio.
"I... don't like soccer."
'huh?'
Sae raised a brow, glaring down at the striker, who had suddenly lowered his gaze... eyes pensive. Sae immediately softened at this, pushing Yukio into his chest.
"It's okay. If you start liking soccer again, then we can play."
Notes:
I meant to post the third selection chapter first, but THE URGE got to me.
Chapter 13: he who has fallen from grace wants another to succeed in his place.
Summary:
Yukio finally gets screen time
also I hate luna he pmo I hate them blonde bitches smh
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Sooooo, you want me to choose the top six?" Yukio couldn't help but raise a brow in amusement at Ego, who was currently wearing a steely frown, shuffling through papers with an irritated huff.
"Yes. Usually, I would be there for something as important as this, but the sponsors won't stop bitching," the clearly exasperated man sighed loudly, spinning in his chair to face Yukio.
"You're going with Anri, I assume?" The younger was already rifling through the Blue Lock records, checking out players who would be... worth his while, "Do I have to introduce them to everything too? I'm just starting to get back in the zone, y'know. I actually care about training now."
Jinpachi couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, a bony hand going up to readjust his glasses.
"If you want to re-enter the public eye, it's time to work on your social skills. You can't just charm your way out of everything--no matter how good you look, it won't spare you from the rabid paparazzi, you should know this better than anyone here," The frowning man chastised Yukio, getting up from his seat with a weary expression, "I don't care how you go about it, Yukio. I know what you think of me, and I know that even with this judgement, you still consider me capable."
"You're a shell of your former self, but you're still the best striker in all of Japan. I trust your capabilities."
With that admission, Ego walked away with a flare--leaving Yukio's jaw slightly ajar.
Somebody trusted him. Somebody believed in him... not even Sae did.
'What a strange (yet not unwelcome) feeling.'
"Aye aye, Jin. I'll get it done,' a small smile graced the corners of Yukio's lips, the striker turning back his paperwork, "I won't disappoint."
"I know you won't."
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
"Julian Loki, Leonardo Luna, Adam Blake, Pablo Cavasoz, Dada Silva..."
Yukio couldn't help but sweatdrop as he read out their names, a small sigh escaping his lips--a hand going up to rub at his temple. Of course Ego had to leave him with some extra work to do, picking the top six and managing third selection was just too easy, huh.
The exasperated teen felt a vein in his forehead throb.
'At least Michael Kaiser wasn't on this list... his bitchass piss me off.'
Flipping through the paperwork, Yukio adjusted the tank top he was wearing--something stolen from Sae's expansive closet, another small piece of his lover Yukio kept close to him.
Yukio really wanted to see Sae again... paperwork was sooooo boring. Anri was too all but too patient, dealing with this crap.
'She truly had an admirable work ethic...'
...
"Welcome to the Blue Lock facility," with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Yukio bowed politely to the foreigners, who were all sitting in a lounge area--uh, lounging around.
Julian Loki was the first to recognize him, followed quickly by Leonardo Luna. The rest... maybe slight recognition, although the older players seemed mainly uninterested.
"You're ze.. eh, Fujin, oui?" the prodigal French striker tilted his head politely, sitting up in his seat. His accent was quite pleasant to the ears, in Yukio's opinion. The Japanese native liked the way Loki spoke a bit nasally, switching his t's with z's.
"That I am. Nice to meet you, Divine Sprinter."
With a small nod, Yukio approached him, reaching a hand out to shake.
"Ah! Fujin, the boy who took over the j'outh team a few jears ago! It's a pleasure to meet j'ou. Sae told me j'ou were quite the player," Luna, ever the charmer, smiled brightly at him, holding out a hand for Yukio after the boy had shook with Loki. Just like Loki, he also had an accent, although it was more throaty--with y's being pronounced as j's. Also very pleasant to the ears.
"Aha... He talks about me?" with a curious tilt of his head, Yukio turned to Luna, who nodded sadly, a slight pout on his face.
"Yes, he would talk about j'our playing quite often-comparing it to mine-It was quite demoralizing at times," Luna's smile turned sad, as if looking for sympathy-although Yukio new better. Those eyes were watching him. "Sae would say things like... 'wow, Yukio could do so much better,' or 'huh. You can't jump nearly as high as Yukio.'"
'Seriously...? Sae, you ass... I'm so, sooooo breaking up with you for this,' Yukio couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle, silently cursing his lover. Of course, he would never break up with Sae, nor would he threaten his boyfriend (read: not too often, anyways).
"I apologize. He's always been...blunt. You're a good player. Don't let him get to you," another strained chuckle escaped his lips, with Yukio looking over to the other players, who were sprawled over the leather couches.
'As if Blue Lock isn't even worth the effort... How irritating.' - Yukio couldn't blame them though. Japan wasn't exactly renowned in the soccer department.
He backed up, straightening himself, coughing into his hand to get the attention of the others--which wasn't necessary, considering they were all already watching him (out of the corner of their eyes). This wasn't out of caution, no. Yukio doubted anybody saw him as a threat, which was perfectly reasonable. He had been MIA for quite some time... despite his contract with Re Al. Pair that with his disappearance in the media, the reason that he was even being noticed was probably out of curiosity.
"Alright! It's very nice to meet you all, my name is Isagi Yukio--but I go by Kon, specifically in this facility. I would appreciate it if you would call me that, instead of my given name, at least for now. I'm going to be the one organizing your face-offs, sending payment--all the like."
"Eh? Kon instead of your real name? Why's that? Trying to hide your identity, fallen star?" Dada Silva, ever the instigator, sneered at Yukio--grin wide.
'Instead of insulting me for hiding my identity, why don't you hide your ugly ass teeth and close your goddamn mouth? Save us all the trauma from having to look at those uneven fucking bricks you have in your stupid fucking gaping maw you ugly fucking stupid a-'
Yukio grit his teeth, sneering right back down at Silva.
"I'd appreciate it if you showed a bit more respect. You're fulfilling the stereotypes, Silva," the taunt didn't go unnoticed by the Brazilian, who in turn responded with equal contempt.
"Hah? Bold words from a little boy who couldn't even respect his commitment enough to not bail on all of your games."
Yukio was about to respond with something equally insulting before Luna stopped him, the blonde standing up and getting between the two--hands outstretched.
"Let's not argue, I'm sure there are more important things to speak about. We're all adults, are we not?" At that comment, Yukio looked pointedly to Loki, who shrugged, a polite smile on his face.
Luna noticed the glance, letting out a resigned sigh, "okay, maybe not all of us-but enough. J’ou get my point."
"I do," Yukio pushed Luna's hand away from his chest, still staring daggers at Silva.
'Whatever, this isn't worth my time.'
With a roll of his eyes, Yukio began speaking once more.
"I just need you guys to play against some groups of five and survey them. After you win, please fill out the forms provided to you on the computers. The system should automatically give you the names and faces of whoever you play against. That's all."
With a heavy exhale, Yukio walked off, ignoring the provocative calls coming from Silva.
"If you need any further information, please check the file sent to you on your respective emails."
Before he could leave, Loki appeared-in the flash of an eye-moving to stand in front of Yukio.
A quiet hum of surprise could be heard from the Japanese striker as Loki stood there, smile as polite as ever--each moment thought out and carefully curated.
"I've 'eard (heard) a lot about you. Before your, eh... disappearance, you were quite ze player, oui?" Yukio couldn't help but cock his head to the side slightly, curious at what Loki had to say, nodding for the younger to go on.
"I'd like zo play a match against you."
oh?
Oh.
Julian Loki wanted to play against him?
How... interesting.
"You... want to play against me?" Yukio raised a brow, his lips quirking into an imperceptible smirk, "I'm honored, really--but I fear that won't be happening any time soon. I've just recently gotten back into soccer, so I'm quite rusty."
Loki simply sighed, sitting back down, mildly dejected, "I zee. Zat iz disappointing. You weren't what I had expected."
Yukio simply huffed, walking away... although a small part of him felt offended. This kid (Yukio was only a year older than him, but that doesn't matter right now) thought he knew everything, just because he was a talented rising star... cunt. Although, he was being a bit hypocritical, considering he used to act like Loki too, but that confidence was quickly crushed.
...
Isagi couldn't help but stare as his brother appeared on the large monitor, staring wide eyed at his brother who was sat cross legged, leaning back in a relaxed slouch, looking disgustingly content with himself.
"Heeeeya," with a smooth sweep of his hair, mouth parting to reveal a set of perfect, pearly white teeth--canines sharp--Yukio waved at them, his eyes obscured by circular shades, pushed to the very top of the this nose..
"So, I just wanted to say, good job! Old man Kon here is reaaaal proud of you. Surviving the selection process against three hundred other high schoolers. You're 11.6666667% out of 300%, y'know?" He looked amused, glancing down at his carefully manicured hands.
"Buuut, you guys still suck! Compared to the strikers you will face on the world stage, you guys are still insignificant shits. Sooooo..." Kon glanced around for a few moments, as if looking for something. After a few seconds of awkward silence, the man leaned over to pick up a notepad, letting out a triumphant huff.
"Found it. Anyways, as I was saying. You lot are insignificant shits, and with the help of my aaaamaaazing assistant Ego Jinpachi~"
This comment caused a few confused murmurs from the crowd watching the monitor. Wasn't Ego the organizer of the Blue Lock project? Was that also a lie?
Yoichi simply let out a sigh of defeat. Trolling the other players at such an integral moment... how shitty.
"~I managed to complete a list of team groupings or whatever for this next stage. I dunno, I wasn't really paying attention to anything Ego said."
'Nii-chan, what the fuck.' The youngest Isagi let out a groan, a hand going up to cover his eyes, exasperated.
"Oh shiiiit."
Carefully, with reluctant curiosity, Yoichi looked up to the monitor, finding Kon staring down at his phone, eyes widened.
"I totally forgot! You guys have a match with the Japanese U-20 in like, three weeks or something! Whoops."
WHAT THE FUCK.
Yoichi stared up at the monitor, the players around him breaking out into hushed whispers.
"How does somebody just forget that?"
"Isn't the dude on the screen just supposed to be some random employee? I've seen him around a few times, what is he doing leading this selection?"
As much as Yoichi didn't appreciate the way some players were speaking about his brother, the Isagi couldn't exactly defend 'Kon' right now, having been thrown off by the revelation--and admittedly, just a tad bit irritated.
"OHHH YEAAAAH, one more thing."
oh god.
"Sae Itoshi will be captaining the Japanese U-20! Also, if you guys win, Blue Lock will officially rep Japan at the World Cup!! Due to this, losing also means the end of Blue Lock."
The tension in the room finally snapped. Without Ego's domineering presence, the room burst into chaos, with everybody mainly shouting at Kon.
Today was going to be a nightmare.
.
"A'ight, now that we're all calmed down, I'm gonna start announcing players who will become the new core of this wondrous program! If your name is called, please step forward..." Kon paused ominously... eyes staring blankly down at his paper.
"Whoops. I can't read what I wrote."
A nightmare indeed.
.
"Fist up, victim number two... who the fu-- Oh. Rinnie. Uh, yeah, like step forward or something," Kon waved his hand dismissively at the camera, brushing off the strange nickname he had written down.
"Sorry, I might have some trouble here. I was totally sleep deprived when writing this shit, and like... I forgot who I was writing about... Kay I'm talking too much, next person."
Rin sighed dramatically as he stepped up, murmuring something under his breath about lukewarm employees.
With a dramatic squint at the notepad in his tattooed hands, Kon tilted his glasses down, raising a brow.
"Nut buste- Shidouuuu! My maaaannn. You're in second place," with a cheery thumbs up, Kon watched as Shidou stepped forward, circling around Rin like a snake.
"Well well, would'ja look at that... We're numbers one, and two! Nice~" Yoichi looked at the duo with concern, and mild disgust. Why the hell was his older brother calling some sleazy fuck like this... His man? Sae would be so mad... oouuhhhhh he should totally snitch... wait, no, he was drifting! Focus Yoichi, focus! You need to be a member of the core--Yukio would've probably taken some pity on him and put him as a top ranker... right?
'Yukio, if you love your darling little brother Yoichi, you better have put me as a member-- cmon, cmon...' Yoichi sweatdropped, brows furrowing as he willed his thoughts to come true.
"Number three..." Kon seemed to hesitate for a few moments before returning to his announcement, albeit a bit amused, "cunt. Thats.. that's uh, all I wrote..." he squinted at the paper, clicking this tongue.
"who would I even call a-- oh, Tabito Karasu. Yeah uh, you're up... I guess," Kon murmured something explicit under his breath, looking thoroughly irritated as Karasu raised his arm, smirking.
"Hold your applause, losers," Kon clicked his tongue again at Karasu's arrogant statement, scrunching his nose.
"nobody was fucking applauding anyways... weirdo." He snarked under his breath, clearly displeased. Karasu seemed to become even more amused at this, raising a brow. Fuck, he was pissing him off.
"Heh. What a sore loser~" Karasu taunted, tilting his head at the camera. Kon was going to commit murder. Whatever, on to number four.
"Number Four, Eita Otoya," Kon drawled his next announcement, clearly beginning to grow bored. His attention span was truly shit.
"Hey.. sup," Otoya seemed as bored as Kon, perhaps even more so, walking with lazy abandon.
"Number fiiiive... fuck when will this get good... boring ass announcements-- fashion nova! Step-on up, Yukimiya Kenyu... and nuuuumber six, our favorite sugar baby, Seishiro Nagi," Kon deadpanned, tossing his notepad to the side, rolling his eyes.
Yoichi couldn't help but glare up at his brother's digital face. He was acting as if these announcements were some chore, not something that would decide the entire futures of real people. Plus, how dare he not put his own brother up on the board! Sure, he didn't want to be a nepobaby, but sometimes it would be real nice if his brother weren't so intent on making everything so difficult for him. He reeaaaallly wanted that spot.
'Whatever. This just shows Yukio doesn't consider me good enough yet. I'll improve, and prove him wrong. I want to be the core of this group- the Blue Lock Eleven! I'll make Yukio acknowledge me- and admit I'm a great player!'
The Isagi grimaced, clenching his teeth--eyes burning with unseen fire.
"Um, if I may," Kon raised a brow as Yukimiya spoke up, turning back to the camera, a carefully sculpted brow raised, "why did you rank me fifth? What separates me from first," Yukimiya pointed to Rin, tone respectful--a jarring difference from Kon's irritated mood swings.
"Oh, that's easy," Kon responded, his voice now much less... irritated than before, "Out of the thirty five strikers here, only two managed to score agains the World Five. Rin, and Shidou. The rest... those were based on total goals during first selection, along with the evaluations of the World Five, and obviously, subjective inclination. Got it, mister model?"
Gagamaru seemed shocked at this revelation, murmuring something to Raichi, which led to a jealous remark from both him, and the non-speaking Wanima brother... although it was more like a jealous noise, than an actual remark.
Kon sighed, perking up, taking his shades off, eyes a brilliant blue-reflecting in the lights of... whatever room he was in. A small mole rested beneath his right eye, something Yoichi didn't remember from their shared childhood. This was probably the first time Yoichi saw him with his glasses off at the facility--he didn't notice this one when Yukio was at the house--how dramatic, taking his shades off like a supervillain.
'Big bro doesn't have a mole under his eye. Thats a tattooed one... weirdo.'
"And with that, the next selection begins. First, the top six will be divided into three teams. This, is obviously by ranking," Kon turned in his chair, using a (Blue Lock logo tipped) pointer stick he got from... who knows where, to signal at animated backdrop behind him, periodically looking back at the camera, "The remaining twenty-nine players must then decide which group to team up with. Keeping up, you insignificant shits? Good. Now, listen up, this part is the most important."
Kon spun the stick in his hands, snapping it back to attention, "You will make teams of five by adding three players to the top six duos. This is where it gets real interesting. Each team will then play ONE five v five match."
Yoichi nodded to himself, biting down unconsciously on the inside of his cheek as he thought..
'I get it.. Yukio's trying to find players who can mesh with the attacking styles of the core team members.'
"The top six get to play multiple times, but for the ones who aren't part of them... You lot get only one chance."
The words 'ONLY ONE MATCH' flashed urgently on the screen, with Kon pointing at the phrase, and then underlining it, and then circling it, multiple times in a row, as if the watching players couldn't read.
"See, these tryouts will determine who plays against the Japanese U20 team, so don't fuck it up, idiot," with one more dramatic underline of the phrase, Kon tossed his pointer stick behind him- giving it the notepad treatment.
Yoichi heard the mumblings of his fellow players, yet kept his eyes on the screen. Yukio was looking at him--he knew it. His brother had said idiot, singular, instead of plural, after all. Yukio was referring to him.
"Now, because of the--eugh, headcount, one of you will get to play two games," Yoichi perked up at this, eyes widening. Was--was this really... his chance? The spoken of nepotism within the sports community?
"Obviously, that would be the runner up- number seven..."
'Yukio I swear on Buddha I won't tell Sae about the things you've said about Noel Noa if you put me as seven, I swear, I promise, I pinky promise!!"
"Meguru Bachira."
'never mind, I'm telling Sae everything.'
Bachira smirked, looking over to Isagi, clearly aware of his irritation.
"Aye aye, mister mysterious brother."
Yoichi scowled, eyes scanning the core members of the Blue Lock eleven.
'Damn. We've been playing together up till now, yet all of them are better than me? This is a sign from Yukio, isn't it?' Isagi brought his gaze back up to the screen. Yep, definitely. Yukio was looking at him again.
“One more thing, you loser,” Yukio stared directly into his younger brother’s eyes—however the fuck he did that—tone dropping.
“Today, and only today, I’ll let you lucky individuals replace the Blue Lock seven!” Yukio brightened up, hands shooting into the air with ecstatic fervor.
“I’ll be on the main field behind those big ol’ intimidating doors there in like, ten minutes. If you manage to steal the ball from me and score a goal,” a holographic model of Yoichi’s player icon was shown stealing the ball from Yukio’s, scoring a goal, “you’ll take the place of number seven, Meguru Bachira. You have ten minutes. The more goals you can score within the ten minutes, the higher up you can move.”
This was his chance. Yoichi could take Bachira’s place—and then Nagi, then Yukimiya—and Rin.
…but could he really?
Yukio was the best player in Japan, Yoichi even considered him one of the best strikers in the world—could he really go up against his brother? Against the person who pushed him into soccer? Against somebody so far out of his leauge..?
Could he really…
“I’ll see you on the field, Yoichi.”
Right. Yukio—his big brother was waiting for him. Yukio was there for him. He wouldn’t go easy on Yoichi, but he would always help his younger brother pick himself up.
Yukio truly was the best big brother in the world.
Yoichi couldn’t help but feel a smile begin to form on his face—his eyes lighting with a familiar fire.
‘His ego.’
Yukio grinned down at Yoichi, his own eyes gleaming with a fire long thought to have been extinguished.
After all, he who has fallen from grace wants another to succeed in his place.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Yukio sat on the field, legs crossed, tapping away on his phone, soccer ball between his legs.
——————
♡
OH MY GOD
IM SCARED
JELH
KELP
JELP
HEKLP
HELP
?
What’s wrong?
YOUCH
YOICHI
HES PLAYING AGAINDT ME
IM SO EXCITED
YAY
I LOVE MH BROTHER
Sae let out a soft sigh as he stepped off the treadmill he was running on, looking out of the window wall--down into the large grass field below. The Re-Al clubhouse really was something to behold.
He tapped away on his phone with one hand, the other reaching for a water bottle, heading to the showers.
"Sae!" the oldest Itoshi turned his head up at the sound of Luna's voice, brow raised, "where are you heading off to? Cutting training short today?"
The blonde chuckled as he approached Sae, attempting to get a glance down at the redheads phone screen, "Who are you messaging? A girlfriend? That would cause a public scandal, you know."
Sae scoffed at his comment, making a mental note to change Yukio's name from a heart to something much less inconspicuous, lest it cause him even more trouble if spotted in public.
"Not a girlfriend. I didn't pick the name."
Technically, Sae wasn't lying. He had gotten Yukio's number... four years back or so, and had never bothered to change the name from what Yukio set those four years ago. Perhaps it was finally time.
"Wow, there isn't even a profile picture... You must really want to keep this private, eh?" Luna teased, attempting to swing an arm around the blank faced man, only to be promptly dodged.
ding!
A traitorous notification popped up on Sae's previously dark phone screen, revealing...
- ♡: oh gorgeous beautiful amazing lovable future husband of mine, pls don't leave me on read o(╥﹏╥)o
- ♡: did I do something wrong??? im sorry (◞‸◟,)
- ♡: pls don't be mad at me, I didn't mean to spam :[
"Oh? Future husband? So it is a girlfriend," Luna's smirk widened, his eyes trained onto Sae's phone, snatching it from the redhead.
"Hey- give it back," Sae's ever-present frown deepened, brows furrowing in agitation.
- ♡: LEAVING ME ON DELIVERED TOO???
- ♡: ur just telling me to kms atp (´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥`)
- ♡: k he's here gtg
- ♡: I'm really sorry if I made you mad, please say something.
Luna chucked, amused at the situation, glancing down at Sae, "She seems upset. Best you respond."
Tossing the phone back to Sae, as if he didn't FUCK EVERYTHING UP THAT PIECE OF SHIT OH MY GOD--Luna walked out of the training rooms, leaving Sae to attempt to piece the situation back together.
"Fuck."
Sae mumbled to himself as he saw Yukio's messages, quickly unlocking his phone and responding.
——————
♡
Yuyu?
Are you there darling?
I'm sorry for leaving you on read, babe. Luna took my phone, so I wasn't able to respond.
I know you're probably playing against your brother right now, but I'm not mad.
I would never be mad at you love.
I'll be in Japan again soon, so I'll be sure to make up for this.
I love you gorgeous.
Have fun playing with your brother, and tell Yoichi I said hi, okay?
Love you.
Notes:
I'm not good at writing accents, so you guys might have to fill them in yourself...
Extra: Yukio is 18, Sae is 18, Isagi is 17 (same as Rin), Julian is 17.
I literally haven't slept in ~18 hours im ending it all (this chapter was written in intervals, so idk If the writing will suffer or not...)
I know for a fact that Isagi would be upset from being a product of nepotism, but I also know he is def a hypocritical fuck, especially when it comes to a brother (they both bitch at each other), so he whines about it ig. Pls don't think that Isagi is super one dimensional in this fic btw, he does have internal thought, I just wanna write the funny parts more :(
I write Kon as Yukio in Yoichi's internal dialogue, as he knows Yukio's true identity.
Chapter 14: Not making it out of the hood with this one
Notes:
WARNING!!!
First part (Sae pov) contains some murder and sexual violence, imo it’s tame, but each to their own
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sae didn’t have Yukio.
Sae never had Yukio.
Yukio only allowed Sae to have him.
That was a reality the Itoshi had to come to quite early on into their relationship.
If Yukio didn’t want Sae, Sae was unneeded. It was as simple as that—
Until it wasn’t.
Yukio wanted—needed something visceral. He needed something real—something… violent—familiar.
On rare occasions, their nights would be spent laid next to each other—quiet. Unbothered, simply craving closeness. The warmth of another.
But most of the time… they were harsh.
Their nights together hurt.
Sae bit because Yukio wanted him to. Sae clawed because he knew that was what Yukio was familiar with. He snarled and tore and ripped and defaced.
Yukio just took it all.
After all, acceptance was the strongest form of love.
Sae had long since learned to accept violence. First from the media—the vultures who tore at his appearance, playstyle—his switch to midfield.
Then, from the players in Spain. Their racist remarks, jokes, snarls—the purposefully kicked soccer balls in his direction, each aimed for a different part of his body—the crumpled up papers tossed at him as he walked, with curses written in Spanish.
Yukio never decoded those papers for Sae, but Sae knew. He learned Spanish, and he remembered.
“Cunt.”
“Yellow freak.”
“Chink.”
“Go back to your country.”
“Cock sucking Asian fuck.”
“Dog eater.”
The insults didn’t hurt anymore. He faced worse.
His last acceptance of violence was when Yukio killed their coach.
He remembered every moment of it in vivid detail. The way the knife tore into skin, how they dismembered his body, ripping at joints and snapping bones.
How they dragged poor Hinata into it, making him bring them a cleaver.
The poor boy was so confused—unaware of what was going on.
Sure, the police investigation not long after may have caused him to suspect something—but he knew better than to snitch.
They didn’t burn their coach. That was amateur. They hid pieces of him across campus.
A few chunks of calf under the willow tree.
A few diced fingers fed to the ducks.
A crushed eyeball or two fed to the stray cats on campus
The worst were the pigs.
Their school had a small communal farm—garden. Whatever.
It was for enrichment of the students, to keep them occupied. Hobbies—gardening was good for the soul, apparently.
In that garden, there were these cute little hogs.
.
.
.
Do you know why farmers often send pigs that seem too interested to humans to slaughter?
Because those pigs have already developed a taste for flesh.
A pig watching you as it ate—even if it were a few glances; if it showed even a hint more interest in you—there is a genuine risk that it was planning how to eat you.
Sae wouldn’t say anything more than:
“Students were attacked by rabid hogs later that year.”
It was… not normal—just, acceptable, perhaps.
Sae accepted the violence, but never embraced it. Not like Yukio did.
Not like how Yukio would actively search out danger, bleeding himself dry.
Sae realized far too late he was the one handing Yukio the knife.
Yukio was drowning, and Sae just kept pouring more water into the pool. Dumping gallons, even.
Yukio choked, and Sae—although not the noose, was the one who kicked the chair out from underneath the boy.
.
Yukio came looking for something. He always did.
Sae was tired, he should have turned him away. Training was draining.
He never turned Yukio away.
They collided—there was no love, no intimacy, no foreplay.
It was an explosion. A war of gnashing teeth, clawing hands, held back sobs.
Yukio looked up at Sae as if he was the most amazing thing in the world—reveling in the redheads presence—even as Sae was actively tearing him apart.
No intimacy. No love. No softness.
Blood.
Scream.
Teeth.
Cut.
Tear.
Consume.
Saes hated himself for it. He didn’t realize when he started to feel this way. When he started to feel a little more like god when Yukio looked at him like that.
When he started to hurt on purpose—not when Yukio asked him to, but when he wanted to.
He held him a little too tight.
Drew a little more blood.
Pushed a little bit deeper.
Yukio never complained. He seemed happier.
That’s right, Yukio was happy, it was okay.
It was all okay.
.
Sae felt Yukio claw at his back, teal eyes staring down at the striker pinned underneath him; his eyes were blown wide.
They were tangled together, heavy, breath ragged—all snapping teeth and sharp talons.
Yukio let out a strangled mix between a scream and a moan as Sae bit into the crook of his neck, drawing as much blood as possible, reveling in the taste of iron.
Yukio never complained.
He never told Sae to stop.
So Sae never did.
Maybe that’s where he messed up.
He kept on pushing.
Sae never thought of Yukio when they were intimate—he did in the beginning.
Yukio was traumatized, but he was eager for sex. Sae found that a bit strange, but he never questioned it.
Thinking back, it was probably because Yukio didn’t feel valued for anything but the pleasure that he could bring.
Violence was his validation.
So Sae was violent.
He was soft in the beginning, but Yukio always seemed upset afterwards. Like he didn’t know how to process it, like it was bad that Sae took it slow.
So Sae stopped.
He dug his teeth into Yukio’s bicep, watching with cold detachment as Yukio trembled and bit back another cry of pain.
This was what he wanted.
If it made Yukio happy, it was worth it.
Yukio was falling, and Sae was falling with him.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Yukio stood up on the field, hands a bit twitchy. He watched with sharp eyes as players filed onto the field, waiting.
What if this made Yoichi nervous? What if he wouldn’t be able to preform well under this pressure—with all these eyes?? What if he had hurt his brother— what if—
‘Stop it.’
He shook his head, reaching a sweaty hand up to rub at the bride of his nose, biting down on his tongue, feeling the iron piercing click along his teeth.
‘Don’t doubt him. He’s your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s you. He’ll figure it out. Trust him.’
Yukio looked back at his brother, dropping his jacket and phone down onto the turf in an undignified lump.
“Bachira, could you grab my stuff? Thanks.”
Yukio didn’t even acknowledge the fact that Meguru might’ve not moved to take his things—because there was no possibility that he wouldn’t have.
That’s how the boy worked. Yukio was sure of it. There were no maybe’s in his world. Only yes’s and no’s. If he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, he wouldn’t make a move. That’s the type of person Yukio was.
Bachira was curious. He wanted to figure “Kon” out, so he would follow until he got his answers.
And “Kon,” would keep dropping clues until he got bored of the chase.
So, he watched with detached amusement as Bachira scrambled to pick his things up, reaching out to unlock his phone for Bachira.
“You can snoop if you want. I’d advise you to keep your eyes on the field though. That’s more important.”
There was nothing to be worried about. Yukio had his messages with Sae on private—there was nothing incriminating in his photos… not on this phone, anyways.
It was like entertaining children—being at Blue Lock. They were so easily influenced; Yukio made a mental note to remind Yoichi to be more skeptical.
Yukio chuckled dryly as Bachira immediately took his phone, looking through all of his apps.
“Eyes on the field, bumblebee,” Yukio called to Bachira. With a self assured roll of his neck, Yukio approached Yoichi, “this’ll be an experience, yeah?”
With a gentle tap of his foot, Yukio rolled the ball over to his younger brother.
“I’ll give you ten seconds.”
At that command, Yoichi immediately straightened up.
He had to move.
With a heavy start off, he ran towards the goal, not glancing back as Yukio followed, a respectful distance away, not attempting to make a move to steal the ball.
‘He’s going easy on me… whatever— get within scoring range and just shoot—it doesn’t matter. Score. Score. Just score, Yoichi.’
Isagi grimaced, eyes darting back momentarily to his brother as he sprinted towards the goal.
‘He hasn’t even broken a sweat—fuck.’
Isagi felt a nervous lump forming in his throat. That sickening feeling he got whenever he played with his brother, the feeling that something was wrong. Yukio was too quiet, too invisible on the field.
There was a change. Yoichi felt a snap in the atmosphere—the field had tipped. Ten seconds were up. Yukio was going to do something, the problem was what.
‘Shit, I can’t keep kicking the ball ahead—just focus on keeping possession— I’m getting closer to the goal.’
Instead of kicking the ball ahead, Yoichi kept it close, between his legs. His progression was slowed down, but he was close enough to shoot.
‘Twenty-four feet away. Within range.’
He aimed his shot to the upper left of the net, bringing his leg back and—
‘Intercepted…?’
That shouldn’t have been possible—Yukio was behind him—he couldn’t…
Yoichi’s eyes widened with a sudden realization.
‘He slipped into my blind spot, slotted himself there perfectly, waiting.’
But, Yukio that shouldn’t have—how did he build up all of that momentum for his jump..?
“Fuck.”
Whatever, there was no time to think. He had ten minutes to score as much as possible, and first goal was just stolen from him.
He was really counting on that goal.
Yoichi sucked in a breath through his teeth, irritated. His brother was beating him again.
Isagi didn’t want to live in Yukio’s shadow—he was his own person. Being known as nothing but the genius’s mediocre younger brother—that was his worst fear.
He wanted to make a name for himself.
‘I’ll score, even if it kills me.’
Taking off in a sprint after Yukio, Isagi made one major discovery.
‘Holy—how did I not realize this earlier…?’ A disbelieving chuckle left his lips, his previous grimace turning into a smile.
He might’ve just found his winning card.
In all his years of studying Yukio’s games, Yoichi doesn’t think he’s ever noticed—not even once—how Yukio moved. How he really moved.
Yukio has a certain arrogance to his playstyle, dominating the field with an untouchable aura, moving with single minded confidence.
Nobody could get to him. He was the Fuujin after all—the freest in the world, able to leap and bound out of range, negating any possibility of failure.
Yukio was too focused on the goal, he wasn’t paying attention to the field at all. If Yoichi could just slip past his defenses—into a blind spot…
It was perfect—or it should have been. Yoichi had managed to gain on Yukio, slipping into what should have been his blind spot…
“Good job, but I’m not gonna let you win that easily,” Yukio commented, almost as if he was taking about the weather, voice light, tone jovial.
With a gentle tap of his foot, he redirected the ball, turning with it to spin around Isagi, continuing his route.
“I’m gonna show off a bit,” he said offhandedly, speaking mainly to himself, “good luck.”
Now that part was directed towards Yoichi.
Yukio kicked the ball into the air, jumping up following it, leg shooting out from the side, scoring a perfect goal.
.
.
.
He couldn’t score, and it didn’t kill him either, much to his relief.
Yoichi gasped for air, hands braced on his knees as beads of sweat rolled down his face, tears of frustration building in his eyes.
He was so close—but each time Yukio would steal the ball from him—he was so mean—couldn’t he have shown a little more compassion.
“Good job Yoichi! You’re nowhere near world class, but you’re getting there!”
Did Yukio really have to rub more salt in the wound? It was okay when others insulted him—they held no meaning to Isagi. He didn’t know them, but his own brother? Sure, teasing was okay, but it gets to a point.
He took a deep breath in, pretending to wipe sweat off his face, when in actuality, he was swiping away his tears.
“Shitty brother,” he grumbled under his breath, glaring at Yukio as he walked over to Yoichi, not a single hair out of place—dry from any sort of perspiration.
Yukio raised a brow down at Yoichi, going to poke his cheek, “hey, what’s up with you? Don’t tell me you’re being a sore loser, heh.”
Shitty brother.
Isagi glared up at “Kon,” a new wave of tears building in his dark blue eyes, nose beginning to grow red. Yukio’s eyes widened at this, the older Isagi immediately scrambling to console Yoichi, panicked.
“Oh shit, uh, was I too harsh—? Yocchan?? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you all those names, fuck, I knew this would’ve been too much, hey, hey, look at me—“ Yukio’s Voice immediately dropped, his hands gently holding Yoichi’s face, eyes worried, lips pursed into a pensive frown.
Yoichi didn’t honor him with a response, leaving Yukio to stew in his worry as he stared up at his older brother, with the most pathetic, watery puppy eyes he could muster.
Clearly it worked, as Yukio let out a groan of frustration.
“Okay, okay!! Fine, I’ll uh—I’ll figure something out, okay?” Yoichi shook his head at Yukio’s compromise. He didn’t want to be some shitty nepo baby.
“What—! Then—do you just want me to feel bad?? Yoichi!! Give me some sort of way to fix this cause I feel like a total asshole!” Yukio bemoaned, letting go of his brother to drag his hands down his face, groaning loudly.
Once more, he was not answered, just left to marinate in the silence.
“…okay, I get it. I’m really sorry, and I’ll make up for my shitty behavior, okay? I didn’t mean to power trip, so don’t,” his voice dropped; conspiratorial, “cry.”
That was okay with Yoichi, so he nodded, grabbing Yukio’s jersey to wipe his face off on, much to the surprise of his brother, who let out a squawk of indignation.
“I’m still mad,” Yoichi stated with a harsh finality in his voice, walking off to rejoin the crowd.
“Cmon! I already apologized—“ Yukio whined childishly, tensing up as his younger brother flipped him off—that cunt.
.
.
.
The rest of the tests passed in a blur, with Yukio lost in his thoughts. It didn’t help that after seeing the vicious display of sheer… dominance, that Yukio displayed on the field, the majority of players who wanted to attempt to increase their rank… never went up.
Of course, he allowed members of the top seven to play against him too, with the promise that they could move even higher up.
It didn’t work, none of them scored, but it did gain Yukio some more respect—along with Shidou’s incessant nagging.
For the next good while, it was:
“Kon, let me get your number,” this, and “Kon, you make me feel so excited,” that.
‘So tiring.’
Yukio mused to himself, hiding away in his room once more, looking for his burner phone.
He and Sae had made up already (thank god) along with arranging a time for the two to meet up.
For now, he had to get through today—a planned outing with his little brother to a nice, little downtown cafe. It had great food, was quiet, gorgeous, and most importantly, private.
He smiled to himself at the thought of being able to speak to his brother normally again for once, no restrictions, no need to pretend to be some one else—just him and his brother.
But that wasn’t why he was getting his burner phone.
Sadly, it was for a much darker reason.
——————
💉
I need enough for at least the next 3 weeks or so.
I knew you’d be back lmao
dw tho, I gotchu slime
thxs
I’ll tip
and that’s why ur my favorite customer/
you should quit though, for the good of everyone. Don’t let yourself spiral again.
sorta crazy that the dude enabling me is giving me advice
I got a family to feed, what can I say 💔
plus, even if I stopped sell in to you, you’d just find somebody else. I’m a necessary evil lolol
You’re a much appreciated evil
——————
Yukio sighed, careful to slip the old flip phone back into its hiding place—under his mattress.
He shouldn’t be doing this, but it was too tempting. He had left Spain without doing anything—no smoking, snorting drugs, shooting shit…
He had gotten clean, wether he had wanted to or not (Ego had him under constant surveillance), and here he was, willingly starting his addiction again.
To top it off, it wasn’t even because he was suffering or anything, he just wanted to feel the high again. To feel a burn no amount of slitting his own wrists could give him.
He just wanted to feel something.
Blue lock, as amazing as it is, as proud of his brother as he was, as adoring of Sae as he is—none of those things matched the pure ecstasy drugs would bring.
The doctors were right. Drugs and shit do fry your brain or whatever. They make you feel so good that you’re constantly chasing another high… and here he was, chasing another high.
Damn.
He was NOT making it out of the hood with this one.
Notes:
Finals tmrw..:
Chapter 15: Amazing gorgeous beautiful name
Notes:
The closer school gets to finishing the more I write 🤑🤑
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
‘Fuck, my head hurts like hell.’
Yukio sighed, his hands going up to cradle his throbbing forehead.
“Aches and pains are a physical manifestation of depressive symptoms.”
He mumbled to himself, repeating the words said by his Blue Lock assigned therapist, staring blankly down at the ground.
Sitting at his desk, he hunched over unfinished papers, a small bottle of antipsychotics at his left.
“Medication for manic-depressive disorder.”
His therapist had said. Apparently, he was bipolar now, haha. Fucking funny.
His chest shook as he chuckled, nails digging into his hair, scratching at his scalp.
“How fucking funny.”
He sneered, before erupting into more giggles. His chest heaved as he laughed, eyes growing watery.
“Fuck—I’m so pissed right now.”
Yukio mumbled to himself, choking on his words.
The world was collapsing on him. It was collapsing—shattering, falling, crushing, collapsing shattering falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing collapsing shattering falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing falling crushing—
He couldn’t breathe
It’s like there was a weight on his chest—his heart wasn’t pumping blood fast enough; blood became sluggish; lungs were blocked.
This is bad bad bad bad bad bad bad
Stop it—stop it— stop—
Yukio shook uncontrollably as he attempted to stand up, falling onto the ground, the bottle of pills scattering onto the sound with a grating crash.
Everything was so goddamn LOUD.
He was right there, he can hear it—please, please stop being so loud—it’s so noisy—
The scattering of the pills sounded like his voice.
Fuck—that shit ass coach, this was all his fault—FUCK
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”
He screamed out, voice cracking—visceral.
His hands shot out to claw at a body which was long decomposed, to reach for a knife long thrown away, to hit flesh long consumed.
Just stop already—I’m safe, I’m okay, there’s nothing wrong—
EVERYTHING IS WRONG, YOU USELESS FUCKING SLUT— can’t you tell?
There’s nothing wrong, I’m clean, I’m alone—
THATS THE GODDAMN PROBLEM. YOU’RE ALONE!! FIND SOMETHING, FIND SOMEONE— GO, GO, GO—
Yukio sobbed uncontrollably, attempting to get up—he stood, fell, stood, fell again. It was like watching a newborn fawn attempt to walk— pathetic.
Pathetic. You’re goddamn pathetic. Can’t even walk. How did you ever manage to kill him? Do you need Sae’s help that much? Go call him, he’ll comfort you. Who else would?
No—I’m not—I’m not, stop, I’m just overwhelmed. I can do it, please, please just leave me alone—I can’t take it anymore.
He crumbled to his knees, hyperventilating—sobbing, heaving.
The weight in his lungs wouldn’t let up. No matter how much he cried it out, no matter how much he reasoned, attempted to process, it didn’t work. It didn’t FUCKING WORK—
‘This is so frustrating—so frustrating. Cmon’ get up, it’s okay, get up— WHY CANT I GET UP?!’
It didn’t make sense. His brain was okay. He knew what was going on. He was having a panic attack—some random, sudden mental breakdown—who cares! Shrug it off, he always could.
It was so quiet in his head—but that couldn’t be right?? Out there, it was so loud, it was so so so so so so so so so so so LOUD.
It didn’t make sense—it didn’t make sense.
He couldn’t predict his moods, he couldn’t rationalize his way out of them—fuck, fuck, fuck.
‘Best in the world my goddamn ass. Best in what?? Running away?? Sobbing and crying like a damn newborn?? Get up—get up!’
His body wasn’t listening to him. He didn’t like that.
He didn’t like anything he couldn’t reason—and he certainly couldn’t reason this. Nothing was making sense.
Life is like a math equation—it’s like a scale. There are rules, formulas to follow, patterns. Patterns to memorize, things to add and subtract—
But bipolar wasn’t like an equation, was it? Mania doesn’t work like that.
“Yes it does. Yes it does work like that.”
Everything had patterns. Everything could be predicted, negated—or at the least, regulated.
He had to regulate himself, bring it in. Retrieve the tears, undo the emotion. Unwind.
Why are you crying?
Because of unaddressed stress and piling worry—bottled emotions.
Okay, now why are you shaking so much?
Because I’m panicked. It’s hard to move. My body isn’t listening to me.
Then make it listen to you.
How?
First, breathe.
Yukio took in a shuddering breath, lips chapped, vocal cords strained from the screams he didn’t know he had been letting out.
Again.
He took another choked breath, and another, and another, until the heaving of his chest eventually slowed—and stopped.
Now, stand.
He stood, no longer stumbling, feet planted heavily into the ground.
Good job. You can take it from here.
“okay.”
He walked, with mechanical accuracy, into his bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom mirror.
Staring into it, he faced a… uncomfortably familiar sight.
Puffy eyes, parted, red lips, swollen, snotty nose—and tear streaked cheeks.
He was such an ugly crier.
Yukio couldn’t help but chuckle brokenly at the sight, turning on the sink.
‘Whatever, time to clean the evidence.’
Ice cold water and a dream was all it took.
Sure, his eyes were still a tad puffy, nose to red for comfort, philtrum still too scratchy.
“Good enough,” he murmured, tossing off his jacket, peeling off the tear and sweat soaked turtleneck he constantly wore.
It was probably time for a shower…
He sighed, throwing his clothes onto the floor, stepping into the shower.
The ice cold water hitting him was like a wake up call. He scrubbed at his skin, washing away the sweat—and maybe, one day, the memories.
He shuddered at the thought, turning his face up to feel it rush down his cheeks once more.
It reminded Yukio of him.
Sae.
.
.
.
The cold rain poured; the skies were clouded, and they were still outside.
Sae let out a sigh of exasperation, squinting his eyes, trying to find Yukio. He walked a few steps, turned his head around, walked a bit more.
It was freezing. What if they got sick? He couldn’t become the best striker in the world if he was sick, damn it.
“Yukio! Let’s head back inside!! We’re never gonna play official matches in this weather anyways, practice some other day!” He called out into the rain, unable to make out the other’s figure in the downpour.
Suddenly, a soccer ball came rushing at him from the side. Instinctively, he caught it, scowling.
“Hey!” Sae glared at Yukio as the other striker approached him, giggling, “That could’ve hit me for real, what the hell, Yukio.”
“¡Está bien! You gotta be prepared for anything, Sae! Cmon, don’t catch the ball, kick it back!”
‘This guy….’
Sae let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.
“Whatever, don’t complain when you get sick though.”
Even though he sounded unwilling, Sae dropped the ball quickly, kicking it back to Yukio with a renewed fervor.
The two ran around in the rain for a good while, attempting to hit the other with the ball, passing it back and forth.
“UP HERE!” Sae’s head snapped up as he heard Yukio’s call, eyes widening as he watched the shorter boy in the air, prepared to kick the ball at him.
‘Is this how I die..?’ He thought sarcastically, ducking as the ball flew past his head, thudding into the mud with a wet splat.
The rain was starting to let up, and the clouds were parting—finally.
‘It’s about time we head insi—‘
His train of thought was cut off as a human cannonball barreled into him from 5 ft in the air, slamming the two into the muddy gras.
“auuughh—“ Sae let out a pained groan as Yukio laid on his chest, laughing loudly, cheek pressed into the crook of Sae’s neck.
“What’s so funny?” He grumbled, arms moving back to push himself up from the ground, groaning as he saw the mud on his jersey.
“It’s just—hahah—you look so annoyed—like an angry kitten,” Yukio choked out from between breathy laughs, leaning his weight on Sae’s chest once more, pushing the redhead down.
Sae huffed under his breath, glaring at Yukio—although there wasn’t really any malice in his gaze.
The rain was starting to let up—the clouds thinning; sun finally making an appearance. The light refracted through the droplets of rain, turning the water into shards of sparkling diamonds.
“Sae,” the redhead raised a brow as Yukio moved his face away from Sae’s chest, meeting eye contact.
‘He has really nice eyes,’ Sae couldn’t help but note to himself, staring at Yukio’s face—
—his eyes were a deep shade of blue, like a nighttime ocean. There were slight flecks of gold and a vibrant, leafy green. Sae didn’t usually pay much attention to Yukio’s eyes—they looked black anyways… but under the sun?
The striker, still planted firmly on Sae’s lap, poked him in the cheek, “eyes on me,” he grumbled, a hint of red flushing across his cheeks.
“Yes..?” Sae answered a slight drawl in his tone—‘what do I do with my hands…’—he thought to himself, glancing down at his hands with were planted firmly into the mud.
‘I shouldn’t hold him—I’ll get his jersey dirty,’ Sae mused, sighing to himself, ‘he’s so warm though, and my hands are cold.’
The redhead furrowed his brows, fingers twitching.
‘Whatever, he owes me. This is his payment for forcing me to play in this rain,’ Sae grumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he wiped his muddy hands on the grass, clasping them harshly onto Yukio’s hips.
Yukio let out a squeak as he felt Sae’s hands grip on his hips, blunt nails digging into the soft flesh.
‘Cute,’ Sae mused to himself, lightening his grip, smirking.
“Hey—you— ugh,” Yukio grumbled, digging his own nails into Sae’s shoulders in return, “whatever. Just, let me talk.”
Taking in a deep breath, Yukio steeled his expression.
“I really like you, Sae.”
Notes:
Im so sorryyy!! I couldn't get the hover text bs to work so you'll have to stick to 1. translating by highlighting (I should be an option on safari & google), or 2. manually translating
- I’m posting this as I’m coming back from ju-jitsu (my arms hurt so much)
Chapter 17: Fuck
Summary:
kaaaaiser
Notes:
The ao3 curse is real. It got to me.
To make a long story short, guy who’s been staying w/ us hasn’t paid rent in a month. Just left today at ~7:30 (~2:30 am now), and he’s been living in a pigpen.
He’s 100% got some sort of mental illness, but that doesn’t mean he can do what he did to our home.
It’s not worth getting into so much detail, but he:
1. Broke our window to install an aircon
2. Has been pissing in bottles and I guess has shit on the floor before?? It took 3-4 hours to empty all of his fucking piss bottles, and four of them popped (really fucking scary) from the pressure when they were opened.
3. Gave us a roach infestation once + we found baby roaches behind the bed we provided him
4. Total fucking bitchass liar
5. We’re taking him to court
6. We were pouring those goddamn bottles for so long they the hand of somebody helping me dump them 😐There’s probably more but I’m too tired rn
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“There’s this disconnection.”
“Whether it’s on the field, in a classroom, or in a professional setting.”
“There’s always a disconnection.”
Yukio’s therapist, an American woman named Anna, clicked her pen, tapping it on the clipboard she held.
Yukio sat on that couch, across from her, eyes flitting around the dimly lit room. He parted his chapped lips to speak, before closing them again.
She noticed this, pushing her glasses up and raising a thin brow at him, “do you have something to add?” She questions, composed as ever.
He nodded, pausing for a few moments as if struggling to find his voice before speaking again.
“It’s difficult,” he murmured, eyes trained on the floor. Seriously, he was so pathetic.
‘I’m the Fuujin. A professional athlete—I’ve practically been in the spotlight for as long as I’ve been alive, so why am I sitting here, hunched over like some sad little bitch with no friends, talking to a shrink?’
Yukio suppressed the urge to scream, instead burying his head in his hands.
“I don’t know how to fix it—how to open up,” he said, voice lowering down to a whisper, “I want to fix it. I want to fix myself—but I can’t figure out how…”
He felt like crying.
Anna simply listened, nodding along, scrawling something on her clipboard. If she was using that tactic where therapists didn’t talk so their “client,” would open up and feel the need to fill the empty space, it wasn’t working.
Yukio had long since learned to keep his mouth shut.
Anna sighed, realizing that she wouldn’t get any information out of Yukio, clicking her pen.
“I understand, Yukio. But remember, you have to open up before being able to fix anything. The first step to recovery is understanding.”
She stood up, waking back to her desk, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors.
“We’re out of time for today. Make sure you remembered what we talked about, and don’t be too harsh on yourself, okay?”
Although Anna seemed stoic, and even a bit scary, she was a really kind person. Yukio appreciated that.
“Of course, have a nice day,” the striker stood from his seat on her couch, a sigh escaping his lips, “I’ll be sure to think over everything said.”
He was such a lying asshole.
Yukio frowned as he left her office, stepping out into the cold, brightly illuminated hallways of the skyscraper Anna’s sessions were situated in, biting his lower lip nervously.
He sighed-heavy, tired, worn out-pulling out his phone…
——————
Fellow sperm sharer
Hey yoichiiii (^｡^)
You ready to go? I’m coming back to the facility rn!! Make sure you bring a hat or something to disguise yourself ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
Yep!
im so excited \(˚☐˚”)/ , but also really nervous…
y?? There’s nothing to be nervous about ☆〜（ゝ。∂）plus, nii-chan is here for you lol
Thats why I’m nervous!!
we haven’t hung out since I was 11, and you were 12 (ó﹏ò｡)
it’s been like 6 years!!
Well it’s not gonna be different at all, I promise ✌︎('ω')✌︎
You’re my little brother, and I’ll always love you + have your back ヽ(*＾ω＾*)ﾉ
Virtual hug, see you soon brochacho
kay（ ; ; ）
see you soon!!!
♡ loved your message
——————
Yukio pulled a mask out from his pocket, slipping it over his face with a sigh, weaving through the jam-packed streets of Tokyo city.
He internally debated the necessity of hanging out with Yoichi, and then scolded himself for even debating the possibility of flaking on his brother.
'God, Yukio, what the hell is wrong with you? You can't just- never mind."
He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping down, a hand reaching into his other pocket, pulling out his wallet. A convenience store was nearby, and the striker was feeling a sudden urge to buy a pack of cigarettes.
'nah. I'm getting weed later, I should be good for now. No need to speed up the development of my lung cancer.'
His eyes darted around as he walked, a habit he learned from watching that awful German... ew.
'Thinking of it, I'm sort of similar to him, aren't I...?' Yukio scrunched his eyebrows as he thought, eyes drifting across the crowd... him and Kaiser truly were similar. Both afraid of their pasts, hiding from it in their own screwed up ways.
"Damn, that's pretty pathetic," he murmured, stepping into the subway station, watching out for anything even reminiscent of a camera pointed in his direction. A hand reached for the back of his jacket, pulling his hood over his head, tugging the fabric down to obscure more of his face.
He looked pretty suspicious, with his sunglasses and everything. Perfect drug dealer get up.
’…I wonder what he’s doing.’
Yukio began to take his phone out of his pocket, huddling himself in the corner of the train cart. He would definitely regret this later on, but that regret was for future him.
’what time is it even in Germany right now?’
——————
Michael motherfucking Kaiser
Guten morgen…
Wow. Look who finally decided to come crawling back.
At least you’re decent enough to greet me.
I fucking hate you.
Liar.
Why are you even messaging me? Trouble in paradise over there in Spain?
Not in Spain anymore.
Went back to Japan…
（ ; ; ）
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHDJDKDKWN
LOLOLOL
👎 thumbs downed your message
BRUH UR SUCH AN ASSHOLE
(´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)
I LEARN GERMAN TO TALK TO YOU AND YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS???
HEY
STOP LEAVING ME ON READ
OML
DIE
read 12:34
——————
Yukio scoffed quietly, insulted at Kaiser’s complete and total lack of any form of grace—how dare he, leaving Yukio on read like that… fuckin’ ass.
bzzt!
A shudder from his phone broke him out of his self pitying trance.
Michael fucking Kaiser: Whatever lmao. You’re so pathetic.
Michael fucking Kaiser: Wanna come over to Berlin?
.
.
.
”I’m so excited.”
Yukio raised a brow at his brother, who was practically vibrating out of his seat—god, it was endearing as hell.
”For what? We’re just going out to eat.”
Yukio’s eyebrow raised higher as he caught Yoichi glaring at him from the corner of his eye.
”And?! First off, we—yes, WE, are finally getting out of that oppressive ass facility, and two, I get to hang out with my brother.”
Yoichi scoffed his response indignantly, rolling his eyes and turning to look out the window, almost bashfully.
“Awwww, you wanna hang out with this shitty brother of yours? I’m so happy,” Yukio chuckled, driving down the mountain path—and away from Blue Lock—hands drumming on the leather of the steering wheel.
”Shitty alright. Couldn’t even be bothered to write to us.”
”Hey! I thought we went over this,” Yukio turned to look at Yoichi for a moment, frowning.
”Some stuff happened, okay? I can’t share it, but I’m really sorry.”
He mumbled his apology, eyes staring ahead, almost afraid to see his brother’s response.
“…fine. Give me your credit card number then.”
“Five eight three—“
”Wait wait! Let me get something to write it down!”
”—nine two seven—“
.
.
.
“So, how is it?” Yukio picked idly at his strawberry cheesecake, hands unconsciously trailing over the silver engravings on his fork.
“It’s really nice— how did you find this place?” Yoichi looked amazed, looking around the scenic room, eyes idling over the other, very few, customers in the cafe.
It was a small, two story cafe—with an upstairs balcony which could be rented out for privacy. The building itself was warm, with dark oak and velvet furnishings, bookshelves filled with… every type of book Yoichi has ever imagined, and golden fairy lights and fake ivy vines strewn about the ceilings.
The two were currently situated on the upstairs balcony, which could be blocked off from the normal upstairs floor with a shoji screen.
Yukio glanced away, out into the bustling streets of the town below, watching the current farmers market sale going on.
”Ego recommended it,” he responded, a bit distant—taking a bite of his cake. A few more moments passed until he realized his dissonance, quickly snapping back to reality, “he said it was somewhere he used to go often, to work or whatever. That bowling ball looking creep.”
That got a chuckle out of his brother, which Yukio smiled at.
”Anyways, tell me about how you feel—with Blue Lock and all.”
Yoichi hummed thoughtfully, taking a bite of the tiramisu he ordered for himself, face scrunching up like the candy wrappers Yukio loved to crush in his hands.
”Well, I’m still mad you didn’t put me as one of the top seven—and you totally humiliated me!”He whined, pointing his dessert spoon accusingly at Yukio, who feigned ignorance, a tattooed finger pointing at his own chest.
”Me?! Neverrrr… that must’ve been an evil doppelgänger, I would neeeever do something like that to my own…”
”YOU—“ Yoichi sputtered, his eyes widening, reaching out to poke Yukio’s cheek with his chocolate stained spoon, “—ARE SUCH A LIAR!”
Yukio swatted Yoichi’s spoon away with his fork, rolling his eyes, “You’re gonna ruin my makeup, you whiny baby.”
Yoichi blinked a few times, eyes widening in shock.
”You wear makeup?!”
Yukio deadpanned at his brother, watching as Yoichi struggled to calibrate that information.
”Why wouldn’t I? I’m not this flawless and beautiful normally,” he huffed, running a hand through his layered hair, fluffing it up a bit, “It’s just some basic stuff. A good base with concealer, foundation—eyeliner, mascara. When I feel fancy I use khol instead of eyeliner…oh, and I draw on an ayegosal.”
Yoichi stared blankly at Yukio, brows furrowing. Ayegosal? Khol?
”What the fuck?”
His eyebrows shot up as he realized he’d spoken his thoughts out loud, raising a hand to cover his mouth. He’s just always thought his brother looked like that.
”I’ve BEEN doing makeup,” Yukio deadpanned once more, frowning, “I started with concealer when I was like, twelve. Cause the media was on my ass for my acne.”
Yukio rolled his eyes, not realizing how screwed up his revelation truly was.
The media, attacking a twelve year old for his looks—a child.
Yukio raised an eyebrow at Yoichi’s expression, taking another bite of his cake.
“What?” He grumbled through his mouthful of cake, watching—almost cautiously—as Yoichi found his words.
“I—“ his brother spoke, voice level and slow, “did not know that.”
“Of course you didn’t. I didn’t tell anyone, duh,” Yukio rolled his eyes once more, bringing up a finger to tap at his nose.
“When I turned eighteen, I got a nose job too. And chin filler—to make it sharper.”
The long haired man shrugged, swirling his coffee in one hand, taking an experimental sip. It was a bit too bitter, but that was fine.
Yoichi just sat there, looking dumbfounded, staring at Yukio’s face. Not even his eyes—just at his face.
“You’re making me a little self conscious man. No need to stare, what’s up?” Yoichi seemed to snap out of his little stupor as Yukio questioned him, eyes darting to meet his older brother’s.
“It’s just that… I… had no idea. You did a lot of stuff, without me—or us, knowing,” he murmured, voice cracking a bit, “I feel a little betrayed.”
Yukio raised an eyebrow at this, leaning down to get a better look at Yoichi’s face—which was faced down and obscured by his hair.
“Ah—I’m sorry Yoichi. I uh, wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, and I assumed it would’ve been fine.”
He flinched as his younger brother’s head snapped up, eyes bleary with tears.
“That’s the problem—you never… you never tell me anything! Not mom, not dad—not even your younger brother!! It’s—I’m so tired of being left in the dark all the time and I-“ Yoichi’s voice cracked as he spoke, hands reaching up to clumsily wipe at the tears streaming down his face.
“The kids at school—at the soccer club, they all expected me to know everything about you—they asked about you all the time! And—and it was so—so humiliating not to be able to answer any of their questions! I don’t even know your favorite color—and you don’t even know mine!” He sniffled, shoulders trembling as he spoke, tears staining his hoodie.
Yukio just sat there, hand half reached out to comfort his brother, only for him to decide to retract it.
“I’m sorry, Yoichi. I love you lots, and my favorite color is vermillion red and midnight blue. The red reminds me of Sae’s hair, and the blue, your—our, eyes. Don’t cry, okay? I’ll tell you everything you want to know—it’s just that, right now…” Yukio’s words trailed off, his hands reaching to grab Yoichi a napkin, “…it might be too much for you, and even maybe me.”
Yoichi’s tensed at this, swatting away Yukio’s hand, refusing to take the napkin.
“w-what the hell does that mean?” The younger Isagi sniffled, grabbing a napkin himself, blowing his nose.
Yukio hesitated, reaching out once more with a napkin to wipe at Yoichi’s tears, sighing.
“In Spain, something really fucking bad happened. Something terrible—to both me, and Sae. After what happened, I…” Yukio paused, crumpling the napkin in his hands, tearing it to shreds.
“I got addicted to drugs,” Yukio murmured, avoiding eye contact with Yoichi—afraid to see his brother’s reaction.
Instead, all he saw was his brother leaving his seat—going to hug him.
Yukio froze at the intimacy, previously dry eyes welling up with hot tears.
“Nii-chan… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were… going through that stuff. I— shouldn’t have pushed you,” Yoichi murmured, blinking away tears as he held his brother.
Yukio was hesitant to put his arms around Yoichi—to reciprocate the action. I mean… did he really… did he really deserve it? Did he deserve to be loved and to be held and cared for like this?
‘Well, maybe it’s okay.’
He hugged Yoichi back—arms looping around the other’s back, pulling him close. It was a crushing grip, but it was what he needed. What they both needed.
“It’s my fault. I should’ve… been more clear. You’re not wrong for wanting answers.”
Yoichi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Notes:
finally got opera gx
best decision of my life
its so fun yayI feel like this chapter was a bit rushed but idk 3
Chapter Text
"Soooooo, Kon went to Germany?" Bachira raised a brow, body moving on instinct to steal the ball from Isagi, eyes honing in on the goal.
"Yeah," Yoichi responded, voice a bit dejected, chasing after Bachira.
The two were currently circling each other, attempting to gain possession of the ball to score. It was a friendly, training match—although sometimes they got a little heated .
"Why do you sound so sad? You've been weirdly down in the dumps after that date you had with your brother," Meguru teased, quickly stepping aside as Isagi attempted to steal the ball from him, giggling, "you brocon."
Isagi let out sort of a strangled noise, eyes widening--stumbling slightly as he registered Bachira's words.
"I told you to stop calling me that!" he whined, face flushed as he sped up, kicking the ball from between the laughing boy's feet, "I'm not a brocon! And it wasn't a date, I just really like my brother, okay? Not like you would know," Isagi grumbled the last part under his breath, taking a few stuttered steps back as Bachira gained on him, brows furrowing.
"Well, all you do is talk about him, so sorry I didn't knowwww~" Bachira taunted, letting out a cheerful "woah!" as Rin sped past him, an irritated look written over the Itoshi's face.
"What is he even going to Germany for? Is that even allowed? We're about to have a match against the U-20, aren't we? So tepid," the emerald eyed striker sneered, a frustrated growl escaping from his throat as Yoichi moved out of his way, keeping possession of the ball.
How great. Yoichi finally manages to get Rin to train with them (courtesy of some persuasion from his brother), and the first thing the asshole does is make fun of said brother.
"Shut up Rin. Y-Kon, told me it was perfectly fine. He'll only be gone for three days anyways," Isagi tensed for a moment as he stuttered on Yukio's alias, leaving an opportunity for Rin to steal the ball--somehing that Rin absolutely took advantage of, taking off with the checkered sphere.
'Shit,' Yoichi cursed under his breath as he ran after Rin, followed quickly by a laughing Bachira.
He wished he had more time to spend with Yukio. I mean, after that tender, brotherly bonding moment he had shared with Yukio at the cafe—one wouldn't be wrong to assume that the two would've had gotten closer.
Well... They had gotten closer, but Yukio just left so suddenly after that. It was upsetting, but Yoichi didn't have a say in it. His brother had gone through a lot, and it was probably a sensitive subject that he had been embarrassed to admit.
'Well, if I was him, I'd be scared to speak to me too.'
Yoichi jolted as Bachira jumped onto his back, legs locking around his waist, peering at his furrowed brows—smiling as he saw the pursed lips Isagi seemed to wear like a second skin these days turn up for even a moment.
"Bachira! Hey, what are you-?" Yoichi raised a brow as the cheery boy swung himself around the dark haired striker, straddling him from the front.
“Cmon Isagi, let’s turn that frown upside down!” Bachira reached out to grab on the sides of Yoichi’s face, tugging at his cheeks and pulling at his lips.
“Mph—Bachira—Ouch! Hey!!” Isagi looked over to Rin for help as he stumbled back and fell down, writhing as Bachira kept him pinned to the grass.
Rin didn’t even raise a brow at the ongoings before him, simply turning around and going to run drills.
“You two are tepid. Hurry up and get back to practice,” he grumbled, blatantly ignoring the screeches of glee from Bachira as Yoichi resorted to his last option—poking Bachira on his very ticklish sides.
“HEEEELP!”
.
.
.
“Kaiser,” Yukio waved awkwardly as he entered the penthouse the German “prodigy” resided within, kicking his shoes off at the entrance.
The floors were cold, he noted offhandedly—the chill of the sleek oak floors soaking through his socks.
Said German was busy, sprawled out on a modern, white velvet couch—glass of wine in hand. He barely registered Yukio’s entrance, waving the Japanese man off before going to pour himself another glass of the red liquid.
A red robe with white fur hung loosely around his form, not even tied all the way.
‘Annoying... why even invite me to hang if all you're gonna do is drink and be depressed?’ Yukio tutted under his breath, dropping his luggage by the front entrance—heading over to the large open bar Ness was behind, the other German preoccupying himself with wiping down glasses.
“What’s up with him?” Yukio murmured, sitting himself down on one of the rounded stools at the bar, murmuring a quiet thanks as Ness handed him a glass of whiskey—on the rocks.
Ness shrugged, taking an nervous glance at Kaiser, who’s eyes seemed a bit glazed over, the blonde German staring into the distance, perhaps out at the cityscape visible from the wall-windows which encompassed most of the living area.
“No idea, he’s been like this all day. Wont talk…” Ness’s words trailed off as he glanced to the side, nervous.
Yukio raised a perfectly sculpted brow, taking a sip of his alcohol before letting out a low hum of realization.
“Did he yell at you?” He asked, eyes not wavering from Ness’s face for even a moment.
“…well…” the magenta haired midfielder fidgeted with his cleaning cloth as he answered, voice hesitant, “he didn’t yell, per say…”
Yukio rolled his eyes, frowning.
“Yelling and getting rough at you are basically the same things when it comes to mister Kaiser over there,” the Japanese man huffed, slouched over the dark granite counter of the bar, “he’s just being an asshole. Don’t listen to shit he says—his ass has less emotional regulation ability than a literal toddler.”
However, what said Japanese man had failed to notice was that a certain “asshole,” he was speaking about was approaching him from behind—causing Ness to tense up.
“Less emotional regulation ability than a what?” A smooth German voice echoed from behind Yukio, followed by a familiar tattooed hand coming to rest on the striker’s shoulder.
Yukio didn’t even flinch, meeting the icy German’s glare with one of his own—still scowling.
“Than a toddler,” he answered, no hesitation present in his voice, “also, you stink of alcohol. Are you drunk?”
At that comment, Kaiser laughed.
“Me? Drunk off of some red wine? What do you take me for, a lightweight? I could drink twenty of these and be fine, unlike somebody.”
He looked pointedly at Ness during his last comment, smiling at the embarrassed huff which left the midfielders lips.
“So,” Kaiser drawled, sitting down next to Yukio, hands cradling another glass of red wine— “how was the trip? Were you recognized?”
Yukio shook his head, hands clasped onto the glass of his whiskey, watching the ice melt.
“Probably not,” he sighed, raising a brow as Kaiser took his whiskey—which he downed in one gulp.
‘This is the greed they speak of in the Bible…’
Yukio looked down at his empty glass of now just rocks—no more whiskey on it, a solemn expression overtaking his features.
“…my whiskey….” He murmured, cradling it as a mother would cradle a newborn child, wiping away an imagined tear which fell from his left eye.
“Oh shut up. You don’t get to be so dramatic over whiskey and call me an emotionally immature asshole when you didn’t even tell Sae you were coming.”
Yukio’s eyes widened at Kaiser’s comment, a flash of confusion flickering across the dark blue of his eyes before he quickly schooled his expression back into place.
“What?” He questioned Kaiser, tone soft and a bit disbelieving. How had he known that Yukio didn’t tell Sae? Was it just a lucky guess, or was the German really keeping tabs on him…?
Yukio hoped with all his heart it was the first option, as the second would be too creepy to imagine.
Kaiser laughed at Yukio’s contemplative expression, snapping his fingers between the man’s eyes—laughing again as Yukio went cross eyed to track the motion.
“It’s nothing like what you’re thinking. Sae reached out to me. Isn’t that crazy?” Kaiser chuckled, sliding the vodka shot Ness had prepared for him to Yukio, “Drink up~” he teased, a smug smirk on his face as he watched Yukio scrunch his nose at the taste of the alcohol.
“I thought Sae hated you? At least, you clearly aren’t his favorite person,” the words ‘I am’ were left unsaid, but quite obvious.
“That’s the best part! He saw that your location was off, and immediately reached out to me. Got quite angry at me too, for telling you to come over. You might want to expect an argument soon.”
Kaiser half sneered, half warned, smiling at the way Yukio’s face blanched.
“Aw shiiiitttt… He’s barely just forgiven me for leaving Spain without telling him…” Yukio let his face sink into his hands, groaning.
Ness looked a bit concerned as the striker had a mini meltdown at the bar, eyes meeting Kaiser’s for a moment, only to dart away. They had argued earlier, after all.
“…whatever, if I’m lucky, he’ll get over it,” Yukio murmured—although he had a slight feeling that this time, he wouldn’t be so lucky.
“Another one?” Ness asked, already pouring the Japanese man another shot of vodka.
“Just give me the whole damn bottle…” Yukio snatched the vodka from Ness when it was handed to him, downing a third of the bottle in one go.
Kaiser let out an impressed whistle at this, eyes flitting to Ness for a moment.
“Roll us a few blunts,” he commanded, already beginning to look away as Ness scurried off to do his bidding.
Yukio frowned at this, eyes turning to meet Kaiser’s, brows furrowed.
“You should really stop treating him like that. Aren’t you two like, boyfriends or something?” His brows furrowed further as Kaiser laughed, downing another swig of vodka.
“In his dreams. Ness is a dog—a pawn, even. There’s nothing more,” He waved Yukio off, taking a freshly rolled blunt from Ness, leaning closer to the curly haired midfielder—allowing him to light it.
“…” Yukio frowned deeper as he spectated this… clearly very homoerotic scene before him.
‘I swear to god I’ve seen something like this in a porn flick before… Whatever.’
He brushed off his thoughts, returning to the matter at hand.
“So, Kaiser, there’s this river in Egypt.”
.
.
.
Again. It happened again.
“Why is it always like this. ”
Sae snapped the pen he was holding in his grip, much to the nervousness—and badly hidden fear of his assistant.
Was he not good enough for Yukio? Why was his stupid fucking boyfriend always running off on his own to do whatever the fuck he was doing??
It was always like this, it was ALWAYS FUCKING LIKE THIS.
Sae grit his teeth, dropping the remaining half of his previously mint condition pen onto the ground, letting it clatter—watching the red ink slowly coagulate in a puddle on the floor.
“Hah…haha… hahaha—“ he clenched his fist, staring at the red which now stained the palm of his hand. The red which seeped under his fingernails, turned watery after mixing with his sweat— the red which looked so much like the blood of their coach.
Aoi watched from the couch opposite to Sae’s, a nervous bead of sweat running down his forehead. He thumbed at the sleeves of his black suit, face too wrinkled and plagued by stress for somebody as young as him.
This job seriously wasn’t worth it. Why were all professional athletes clinically insane? Maybe he Should’ve just kept that crappy office job instead— was Sae okay mentally? Should he book an appointment with a psychiatrist? Nah, the redhead probably wouldn’t even g—
“Aoi.”
Sae’s cold voice snapped the fidgeting assistant out of his stupor, with the other man’s head snapping up immediately to meet Sae’s icy gaze.
Aoi realized two things in that very moment.
Number one, the world renowned midfielder known as Itoshi Sae was beyond pissed.
Number two, unless he gave Sae an answer he wanted to hear, Aoi’s job was as good as gone.
“Y-yes, Itoshi-san?” Aoi’s smile shook as he met Sae’s eyes, the man breaking out into a cold sweat. What was this oppressive atmosphere?
“If somebody who you cared for; kept alive during their darkest moments—suddenly began to run off, leaving you, their savior, in the dust, forgotten—what would you do?”
Was this about the “♡” person that had Sae stressed the fuck out a few months ago..? Probably—whatever, no time to think.
“Ah, well…” Aoi stammered as he attempted to think of a response, eyes darting around the room in an attempt to evade the harsh glower of Sae’s eyes.
“I don’t really have a person like that—“
“If you were to have a person like that, then.”
Oh man, Sae really wasn’t giving him any leeway, was he…?
“I think… I’d attempt to speak to them about it—sort of like an intervention..?” Aoi froze as he saw Sae’s expression, waving his hands in front of his face, shaking his head and quickly backtracking.
“Of course— I-it’s okay to be mad! That’s a perfectly fine reaction, especially since it would be a person who relied on you and then suddenly left when given the opportunity. Um—it’d feel a bit as if they’re taking advantage, no? Sort of like an opportunistic person..?” Aoi stumbled over his words as he spoke, a wobbly smile on his face.
He let out a small sigh as Sae nodded slowly, those biting teal eyes turning to look up at the fluorescent ceiling lights, biting the inside of his cheek.
“So I should go confront him, huh…” Sae murmured, standing up suddenly, wiping the red ink on his hands off on his pants. Aoi secretly thanked the Buddha that Sae was wearing black today—lest the red stain on any other color of clothes have caused a controversy.
Aoi had a bad feeling.
Notes:
im gonna have some very bad things happen soon trrust
Chapter 19: Non-Rewritten chapters (NOT IMPORTANT TO LORE, JUST TIME CAPSULE)
Summary:
Since I'm rewriting my older trashy chapters in my free time, here are the unrewritten ones as a little time capsule!
This will be updated as chapters are rewritten.
- this is mainly for me, so I can look back at how much I've improved, heh...
Chapter Text
> chapter 1 / Lock in
“fuuuuuck. Yocchan, don’t pass the baaa—he passed it.”
Yukio slouched over his desk, a tattooed left hand splayed out on the side of his face. The other was hanging lazily over the edge of the desk, with the dark haired adolescent leaning into the crook of his elbow.
He looked disheveled, wearing a coffee stained white sweater, the hood sagging over his head— his uncut hair shielding his eyes.
The blue light from his laptop illuminated the dark room— a perfect incel setup, energy drinks stacked on his desk, empty food containers, pill bottl—
RRRRIIINNGGG! RIIIIINNNNGGGG!
“…?”
His hand reached out, sluggishly dragging the phone to him.
Unknown Number.
“…from… japan?”
The dark haired man sighed deeply, declining the call.
“Hopefully my number wasn’t leaked.”
His eyes returned to the football game, watching some boy with silver hair being interviewed.
‘What a loser.’
Ding!
“… seriously?”
He clicked the email notification on his computer.
[email protected]
It’s Ego. Pick up your phone.
“…Blue lock organization… is this what getting your ass kicked by Noel Noa does to you…?”
He grumbled under his breath, staring at his ringing phone once more.
‘Fine, I’ll pick up.’
He answered the call, setting his phone to speaker—a foot coming up to push himself away from the desk, the office chair he was sitting on rolling back through the piles of junk and clothes on his floor.
“Heeeellllloooooooooo.”
Yukio drawled, voice slightly hoarse.
”You sound like shit.”
“…”
‘This egotistical asshole.’
His eye twitched, grip hardening on the phone.
“What do you want.”
A chuckle from the other side.
”Yukio, you’ve been going through a depressive slump, haven’t you? Taking a prolonged vacation… and your contract with Re Al is about to expire. Aren’t you sad?”
“…what are you getting at?”
“You’re a prodigy, Yukio. Rated number one on the rising stars category of the NSL… but now? You’re depressed. Taking medication to sleep. Scared of going back home. You’re… falling off.”
The long haired man gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath.
“If you just called to insult me, I’ll be hanging up now.”
“I want your help.”
….
Three days.
Yukio had three days to get himself together, and to travel back to Japan… for Blue Lock.
He cleaned up well.
Sitting at the airport, nobody could tell that the handsome young Japanese man over there, who was drinking a hot coffee, was just contemplating slitting his wrists—maybe even overdosing on pills, just three days ago.
Two days ago, he got his ass up, cut his hair, took a shower, and cleaned his apartment.
One day ago, he bought new clothes, all designer. He had almost unlimited funds, why wouldn’t he?
Just two hours ago, his contract with Re Al had expired, leaving him a free, clubless man.
”FLIGHT 420 IS NOW BOARDING.”
Yukio sighed, getting up and tossing his empty coffee, slipping the black medical mask previously on his chin over his mouth.
His appearance had changed quite a bit since his last press appearance, almost a year ago.
First off, he had gotten moles tattooed on his face. One under his lip to match the non-tattooed one above, and one under his left eye.
(A/N: I have made art of Yukio, and I will be posting those on a Pinterest linked at the end :3, make sure to check the Pinterest board for details on his tattoos and extra!!! I drew them lol)
Second, he got tattoos. Not just simple, natural looking ones like the moles on his face. He had designs. Symbols on his fingers, flowing designs behind his ear and going down his neck.
Lastly, the piercings. Yukio had left Japan a clean slate. The perfect vision of an extroverted, natural, Japanese schoolboy. Now, he was… in terms of media description, a ‘delinquent,’ or ‘bad boy,’ even.
A shiver ran down his spine…
‘I hope I don’t get recognized…’
Being noticed would be a total mood killer, considering how he had tried so hard to wipe himself from the world. Privatizing his social media, going to lengths to avoid paparazzi…
‘The headlines would go crazy.’
Yukio ran his tongue piercing between his lips. It was a bad habit of his, messing with his tongue piercing, running it between his lips as a nervous tick… iykyk.
Boarding the plane, he headed to the economy section, carrying only a duffel bag and travel backpack.
“Into the overhead bin you go.”
He mumbled, tossing his luggage up, sliding quickly into his window seat, pulling out his phone.
‘Earbuds, check. Portable charger…’
He felt around in the pockets of his jeans.
‘Check. All clear, time to zone out.’
…
Two hours into his fifteen hour flight from Madrid; Spain, to Kyoto; Japan, Yukio got a text.
Gyatt fan #3000
Why is your location off?
₊˚⊹ ⁀➴ ᰔ‧₊˚⊹
playlist for Yukio btw... :3
H4l0_MyC on Chapter 1 Sun 23 Feb 2025 12:46AM UTC
Last Edited Sun 23 Feb 2025 12:48AM UTC
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sstxarr on Chapter 18 Mon 14 Jul 2025 07:20AM UTC
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