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Trading jerseys was a sign of mutual respect, admiration, and sportsmanship in soccer.
Michael Kaiser was not any of those things when it came to Isagi Yoichi. So it was quite the scene to behold when Kaiser grandly stripped himself on-field after Japan’s victory against Germany.
Isagi immediately turned away, knowing that annoying man was striding up to greet him. The German seemingly unaffected by his team’s loss.
“Yoichiii!” Kaiser stuck up his hand in a casual wave, grinning. “Dammit!” Isagi scrambled to get off the field. Anywhere but here.
“Oh, come on, Yoichi! We haven’t seen each other in awhile. Don’t you miss me?”
“Like HELL I DO. GO AWAY.” His Japan teammates snickered at his explosion.
“Yo-i-chi. If you act like that, you’ll stir up all these reporters here y’know? Come. Let’s show the world a heartfelt reunion. Exchange jerseys with me, Yoichi.”
“What?! No way!” Isagi knew the meaning behind exchanging jerseys, and none of it screamed Michael Kaiser to him. Besides, he only wanted to swap with Noel Noa not this… arrogant, flashy tyrant.
“Be honored. You’ll get the emperor’s personally worn jersey. I’m saving you money from having to buy one really.” Kaiser laid a friendly hand on the shorter man’s shoulder.
Isagi shrugged the hand off and snarled. “Hah? Fuck off! I don’t want it, and if I was going to buy one, it definitely wouldn’t have been YOURS.”
When he tried to push the other man back, Kaiser held onto his wrist before he could pull away. The blond glanced to the side where the photographers were crashing over each other, then back at Isagi. It was a warning to stop acting out. “Tch” Isagi lowered his guard.
Satisfied, Kaiser flung his own jersey over his shoulder, then tugged at the other striker’s shirt.
Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene. Isagi mentally conditioned himself then grit his teeth and smiled, slapping Kaiser’s touchy fingers from his body. “You bastard. Don’t touch me. I can do it myself.”
Kaiser watched as he stripped, lips elongated into a taunting smirk. When he finished, he tossed the top as hard as he could at Kaiser’s face. Not missing a beat, the German caught it before it landed. “How sweet of you, Yoichi.”
“Well?” Expecting Kaiser to hand over his jersey, Isagi held out a hand. Instead, Kaiser straightened out the German shirt and pulled it over Isagi’s head. “Wha-!”
Kaiser leaned down inches from Isagi, his breath tickling the egoist’s ear as he spoke. “You’re only allowed to wear my jersey, okay, Yoichi? Don’t even think about asking Noa for his.”
Isagi shuddered as Kaiser stepped away waving, not once looking back to the field.
In less than half a day, “Germany’s Kaiser and Japan’s Isagi Swap Jerseys” became a trending topic worldwide.