Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s kind of insane, Isagi thinks, how green everything gets the closer you are to the ocean. 

The skyscrapers and high rises have long since fallen into the distance, trees crowding in to take their place, lush and full of leaves despite the late season. Isagi has spent most of the morning shoved up against the window with how packed the JR Yokosuka line bound for Kamakura is, but he’s definitely not complaining, getting to watch the vivid world outside the train as it whips by. Even the mountains seem brighter down here, rolling hills and grass an electrifying green, and in the distance Sagami bay glitters rich and blue under the late morning light, sun dancing on the waves as they crest over one another.

A message notification dings in Isagi's ear, dulling the music playing for a moment. He unlocks his phone, still left on the message thread from earlier.

6:32

Rice or bread for breakfast the boys wanna know

7:40

Rice for breakfast you dumbass, why are you even wasting my time asking this

Now

If you’re not here in ten minutes I’m leaving.

They arrive at Kamakura station around eleven, a little more than six minutes after the text was sent. Which leaves Isagi three minutes-ish in theory to be here before he’s bailed on, which- he’s accomplished more with less time, he supposes. He disembarks quickly enough, surprised to find Kamakura station is smaller than he expects, more like the one he’s used to in his hometown than the megaplexes in the city, two platforms and a straightforward enough layout. 

Following the exit signs, Isagi joins the tide of passengers, slipping in among the flashy tourists and speed-walking families like a fish into a school. Even fresh off the train, he can smell the sea, salt and humidity and brine tickling his nose. It’s so different from the mountain air of Saitama, Tokyo’s exhaust and rust, Blue Lock’s sweat and astroturf. It’s strangely energizing, knowing the whole ocean is just within walking distance, putting a spring in his step as he makes his way through the station.

It’s packed, but considering how busy the trains were too he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Kamakura is a resort town after all, and it was the weekend. Isagi had been to Tokyo plenty of times but had never gotten the chance to travel to Kamakura before, it being a little too far from Saitama for anything other than a dedicated day trip. And well-

He’s never really had a dedicated day trip planned before now.

Cloudless and blue, the sky opens up above Isagi as he finally finds his way to station plaza, the area wide and lined with trees. In the center of it all is a clocktower, odd and angular with a little pointy roof and open space beneath for sitting. And that is where Isagi spots a sleek head of dark hair, lean shape hunched over on the stairs.

"Rin!"

His head lifts at Isagi’s voice, and Isagi jogs over to meet him. Rin stands up when he arrives, pulling a black airpod out and returning it to its case. 

He’s dressed comfortably and casually, dark jeans and a zip up and cool teal sneaks. The right half of his face is padded in a thick layer of gauze, taped up from cheek to chin, a bandage over his nose and a plaster on his temple up against his hairline. All things considered, Isagi supposes he could have looked worse after taking a kick to the face from a powerhouse like Shidou, but not really by much. Rin got to keep all his teeth at least.

"It's been a while." Isagi greets him, slightly out of breath.

And even after nearly two weeks off, Rin doesn’t miss a beat. "Not long enough."

Isagi grins. It's suddenly a little overwhelming, how normal this is. How strange and good it feels to see him- and to see him like this on top of it all. "I'm still pretty surprised you said yes."

Rin shrugs. Tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he shifts his weight to the other foot, expression impassive.

"So, what did you want?" He asks after a moment.

Isagi thinks all the texts they’ve sent the past few days and the near two-hour combined train ride here should have spoken for themselves, but leave it to Rin to be an asshole about it.

“We’re on break for a little bit longer, yeah? Might as well do something fun.” He says casually, giving his arms a good stretch. “A bunch of us hung out in Shibuya the other day, went bowling and to the arcade. It was kind of a bummer you didn’t join us.”

“Sounds lukewarm.”

Rin looks down at him boredly, and Isagi gets the impression he’s on some sort of timer. Soccer matches get ninety minutes and seeing as Rin has infinite time for soccer and not much else, Isagi has probably way less than that before Rin pulls a Rin and straight up ditches him here.

The thing is, Isagi had expected this. He hadn’t counted on not even being here fifteen minutes before already wanting to bust in this bastard’s kneecaps, but he knew from the moment he got that miraculous Do what you want in response to his request to come see him this shit wouldn’t be near as smooth sailing. But trust Rin to be as efficient off the pitch as he was on it. Being insufferable really was his specialty.

"The Great Buddha.” Rin says suddenly, taking Isagi out.

“Huh?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Kamakura Gozan. Tsurugaoka Hachimangu. The Naked Benzaiten. Enoshima. What do you want?”

Oh, that’s what he meant. Isagi snorts. "I'm not here to do tourist shit. I'm here to see you."

Rin squints at Isagi, like one might at a very large bug in a very inconvenient place. "I don't get you."

Isagi shakes his head. "Seriously? Right back at you."

Rin scoffs and turns on heel, just- walking off. Shit. He really did that. Isagi watches him take several steps away, completely dumbfounded, before Rin glances back over his shoulder.

"Are you coming, or did you just take the train here because you felt like it?"

The sun catches the sea glass sheen of his eyes for just a moment before his bangs fall back into his face, but that's all it takes to issue the challenge, loud and clear: did you think I’d make this easy on you?

Isagi sighs, adjusting the fanny pack over his chest, but follows all the same.

"Yeah, yeah. Lead the way."

Rin leads the way, but it’s him, so of course he does it in the most inconsiderate way possible. 

They take the east exit out of the station, Isagi barely catching up in time to spot him hanging a left. It’s even busier out on the street, Rin cutting through the crowds as effortlessly as he does anything else, leaving Isagi to weave and dodge the passersby as they go. He never slows down or pauses, heedless of anyone or anything at all, and the sun is bright and the air is humid and Isagi is mentally cursing those damn long legs and the genius brain that wakes up and chooses only to use them for violence.

They walk for a while, the strange weave of Kamakura unspooling around them as they become one with the foot traffic. The streets are cozy and narrow, modern structures butting up against low strip malls and the cluttered, clunky shapes of buildings older than the rest put together, painted and bricked in all different colors. In the far distance mountains brush their dark blue peaks against the cold blue of the sky, the telltale red roofs of temples popping up here and there like penalty cones. Kamakura really does give off the impression of being an ancient capital, Isagi thinks, the cluttered ambiance and antique feel of it. The salt-brine scent of the ocean is even stronger out here, sharp and cutting above even the spice of street food and the flowers that decorate the storefronts. 

Eventually the crowd shifts, and a massive red torii gate manifests at the end of the street. Isagi finds himself perking up. 

He’s actually heard of this place. He’s always wanted to check it out.

If the buildings of Kamakura proper felt eclectic, the outlets of Komachi-dori feel like someone cleared out a gachapon and threw all the surprises out on a street. The path narrows considerably, funneling under the torii, the buildings lining either side crammed together and spilling out their wares onto the sidewalk. Signs and advertising fly above their heads, colorful and plentiful for shops of every sort. Isagi spots western restaurants and cozy little cafes, clothing and shoe and candy stores. There’s a storefront covered in ivy and sporting My Neighbor Totoro decorations that he looks at for way too long before realizing Rin had stopped and was watching him too. 

The crowds are out in full force here as well, families and groups of friends and just about everyone else under the sun squeezing into this one shopping street. Rin’s head start gets eaten up by the sheer number of people milling about, and Isagi finds himself nearly pressed against his back as they walk. Even though they’re here, Rin hasn’t slowed down yet, so he must have a place in mind, not that he’s bothered to tell Isagi. He can’t find it within himself to be annoyed though, not with everything cool going on around them.

"There's so many foreigners here." Isagi says, moving around a group of girls chattering in a language neither Japanese nor English. “Kamakura really is something else, huh.”

Isagi only looks away for a moment, but when he glances back at Rin, he finds that he’s stopped in the middle of the way- and is talking to someone.

It’s a girl, blond and freckled and very clearly not a local, seeing as she’s gesturing to a map and pointing around with a confused look on her face. And they’re- they’re talking in English, Isagi realizes a bit belatedly. He catches a few words and puts together she’s lost, but can’t follow along, so he stands there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets trying not to hover while Rin directs her.

It’s weird, Isagi thinks. Rin’s English voice is so different from his normal one. It’s a lot softer, makes everything he says sound round and careful- which, considering the only other time Isagi’s heard him speak this much English was when he trash talked the World Five, shouldn’t be possible, or maybe that interaction was just much funnier than Isagi realized.

The girl points one way down the street, but Rin shakes his head, pointing another. Isagi wonders how often this happens. Probably all the time, considering the type of place Kamakura is, but considering the type of person Rin is, it only makes it so much weirder.

Eventually the girl has what she needs, and she smiles brightly at him, thanking Rin with a pat on the shoulder. He flinches under the touch but she’s gone soon enough, disappearing with her friends back into the sea of the crowd. Rin sighs, sounding sixty years old instead of sixteen. 

"You really are a nice guy." Isagi says, flashing him a grin.

Rin’s head snaps back, fixing him with a glare.

"And you're an annoying one."

Rin turns and takes off again. Isagi rolls his eyes. Yeah, those kneecaps of his sure were living on additional time.

Wherever they’re going doesn’t turn out to be much further, though. Soon enough, Rin takes a turn, approaching a storefront and slipping in through the door. Isagi barely manages to catch the door with his hand before he catches it with his face, pushing in behind him with a groan.

It’s a video store, Isagi realizes upon entering, and a pretty niche one at that. It’s all wood paneling and mismatched shelves, movies of all types but most of them seeming to be horror in genre. Isagi can only read the titles of about half of them, seeing the shapes of English and what he thinks might be French or some other European letters.

Rin seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, swiping something from a shelf without a second glance and heading up to the checkout. Isagi follows for lack of anything better to do. Because- why are they here in the first place?

At the register, the cashier seems happy to see Rin, the two launching off into a conversation almost immediately. It’s English again, Isagi recognizes with annoyance. The employee disappears into the back for a minute before returning, brandishing another movie of some sort and Rin nods.

Isagi catches a glimpse of the new DVD as it gets slipped into the bag, a greyscale image of two women’s faces on the cover with stark white lettering to divide them. Isagi can’t read the words but vibes alone are incredibly ominous. The cashier hands the bag over, saying something else, and there’s a strange light in Rin’s eyes as he responds, and wow, Isagi doesn’t think he’s actually ever seen him excited about anything that didn't center around beating his brother at soccer.

“Oh, I get it now.” Isagi says once they’re streetside again, peeking over Rin’s elbow as he messes with the bag. “You’re one of those types of people who loves being scared.”

Rin rolls his eyes. “Have to know what fear is to be scared, dumbass.”

“Wow. You’re scary, Rin.”

"Shut up. I had it reserved for a while and needed to pick it up since I was out today anyways."

The bag quickly gets stowed away, and with it Rin’s excited expression. He’s back to looking at Isagi like something on the bottom of his shoe.

And Isagi- feels kinda bad about it. He was obviously having fun. Maybe he’s the type who struggles to talk about the things he likes? Checks out, honestly.

He tries again. "Still, I never would have pegged you for a horror buff. That stuff’s pretty intense."

"Yeah, well…"

Rin trails off and goes quiet, shifting his weight between feet again and in a sudden jolt of intuition Isagi realizes this all for what it is. 

He’s nervous.

Everything slides into place, that final puzzle piece completing the image of the scene in Isagi’s mind. Rin’s a stone-cold bastard even on a good day, unsociable and moody and never giving anything he doesn’t deem worthwhile a second of his time. But he still accepted Isagi’s request to see him, responded to his texts and helped set up this whole thing. And then- then when Isagi arrived in Kamakura and said he wasn’t interested in tourist traps Rin brought him on an errand because he didn’t know what else to do. What a loser. What an absolute-

Uh-oh, Rin’s glaring daggers at him. Isagi shouldn’t have been surprised. They’re rocking the same set of mental specs and Rin’s always just been way too good at reading him anyways.

Still, he looks pissed, like he's about to walk off again. Which. Would be unfortunate. 

Isagi can throw him a bone, he supposes. Can't let Rin be the only playmaker here.

"Well, if you’re done, I wanna do some shopping. I promised Bachira a souvenir." He claps him on the shoulder and heads for the street. “C’mon, take me somewhere with some weird shit.”

It’s only a moment too late he realizes he did the same thing the foreign girl had done before. Isagi doesn’t get too long to dwell on that though before he hears Rin sigh again behind him, the scrape of sneakers coming on his heels.

“You might regret that.”

The selection of weird shit in Komachi-dori does not disappoint. For every nice clothing store or kitschy western shop, there’s some weird souvenir cart or stall selling the craziest assortment of things. Isagi supposes with a request as dangerous and vague as ‘take me somewhere weird’ Rin really did them a solid by not getting them arrested or into anything permanently traumatizing, which is a great sign that maybe he doesn’t actually have it out for Isagi. Or at least, not bad enough to let himself get dragged down too.

Shopping for Bachira turns into shopping for everyone the more things that pop out to Isagi. For Bachira, he acquires a cracked-out looking beaded dolphin on a keychain, and then sees a pretty fan that reminds him of Chigiri, so he gets that too. A funky three-in-one chopstick-spoon-fork monstrosity calls to him in an especially Nagi-like way, and he cannot help grabbing the set of patterned towels that screams Barou to him. For his mom he gets a small set of nesting bowls from a local potter and for his dad incense from a cupboard of a shop, and when they make back to the shop with all the Totoro decorations, which Isagi was thrilled to discover was a whole store devoted to Ghibli merch, he drops a chunk of change on himself there too. By the time they’ve made it down the street Isagi is toting several bags and Rin is looking almost impressed, a victory in and of itself. 

They’re discussing their next course of action when Isagi’s stomach grumbles, long and low, cutting him off. 

Rin’s eyebrow game has to be genetic because Isagi’s pretty sure he saw Sae’s make that same condescending arch during the U-20 match. He chuckles awkwardly, looking at his shoes and cursing that breakfast had to be at 5am this morning in order to make his train.

“Can’t be helped, I guess,” Rin says after a moment. There’s something a little amused in the half quirk of his mouth as he watches Isagi squirm, the bastard. 

Rin leads him off the main street and a few blocks back to a little place set in a stone wall. Isagi scans the building’s face, scraping what he can from the English sprinkling the advertisements and signs. He’s not entirely certain what food this place has, but Rin heads inside and Isagi follows, not to be left behind. His question gets answered soon enough as he takes in the room and the delicious smells coming from the back.

“Pizza?” 

“It’s authentic.” Rin supplies. “And good. What, expecting something basic like seafood?”

Isagi grins with a shrug. “Shirasu at the very least, yeah! Not that I’m complaining.”

Rin shoulders past him, heading for the counter. “Good. Because if you were going to, I was gonna let you starve.”

Rin orders without looking at the menu, leveling Isagi with an impatient look as he flips through the book trying to decide what he wants. He settles on something called a ‘pizza fritta’ which only gets a slight twitch of the lip from Rin, but before he can pull out his wallet, Rin has already thrown down his card. When Isagi tries to make eye contact with him afterwards Rin pointedly does not allow him, and that’s just gonna be that it seems.

They grab their slices to-go, sitting on the stairs under the tree outside. Isagi hasn’t eaten pizza too many times before, but this stuff is definitely the best he’s ever tried. In typical Rin fashion he does not attempt to initiate conversation and Isagi is plenty content to stuff his face, and so they sit there and soak up the sea breeze, nothing to fight about for once.

Rin finishes first and gets up to throw his trash away, scrolling through his phone when he comes back.

“Hey.” Isagi calls him. Rin looks up. “Thanks for the food.”

Rin’s face does something weird then. His mouth wobbles, eyes going a little funny before slipping closed. 

He kicks the bottom of Isagi’s shoe, not gently at all. “Yeah.”

They bail on Komachi-dori after lunch, stomachs full and Isagi’s wallet considerably lighter, taking to the outskirts of Tsurugaoka Hachimangu. It’s a little quieter here, outside the temple and underneath the trees, giving them space to walk without bumping into each other. It’s not the blooming season, but Isagi can picture how pretty these gardens must be in the spring. As it is, the fading autumn colors the trees in muted oranges and plum purples though more than a few are still a bright, defiant green.

They cross a bridge, the fans of pond foliage thumping lightly against the bottom, the silvery darts of fish flashing through the water. Isagi had meant it when he wasn’t all that interested in seeing the temples today, but even just seeing the outside parts of them he understood why so many people flocked to see them. He once read somewhere that a good chunk of Japan’s tourism was from its own citizens, and damn if he wasn’t convinced.

"This is what I used to do back home all the time.” Isagi says as they walk through a patch of sun, taking a deep breath and basking in the feeling. “Nothing like taking a stroll on a nice day, getting to go out and see new places."

Rin hums but doesn’t add anything. Isagi takes that as permission to continue.

“There’s this park in Chichibu back home that I love to walk around in the spring. All the moss fields turn these incredible shades of pink. There’s nowhere to play soccer there but it’s still cool to walk around and see all the colors. I bet it’s really pretty here too, during the spring. All these temples covered in flowers.”

This time he only shrugs. Back to clamming up, huh. Did getting thanked hard reset him or something?

"Man, I didn’t think about it when I left this morning, but I should have brought a ball." Isagi muses. "Could have been practicing my dribbling with all this walking around."

When he glances again, Rin actually looks like he’s giving it some consideration. Score.

"What?" Isagi teases. "You're just upset you didn't think of it first." 

It really must hurt, how hard Rin's eye twitches. Isagi can feel that eye roll all the way over here. "I'm going to push you in front of the street car."

"Tokeiji? Are you getting a divorce?"

The streetcar rattles under them, dutifully following its wide yellow path through the Koshigoe shopping district. It’s kinda strange, watching people walk around them as they roll by, almost a meter and a half higher than the rest of the street. Rin, in a shocking act of benevolence, did not push Isagi in front of it.

"Divorcing you from Blue Lock." Rin says, completely deadpan. His bangs are swaying with the momentum of the street car, sunlight catching green in bright sudden bursts. "So I can go back to becoming the world's best striker."

"You're not making any sense." Isagi reasons. Rin really does have the greenest eyes he's ever seen, and that becomes Isagi's intrusive thought of the hour. "I don't think you can forcibly get someone else divorced."

"Won't know until we try."

"Pretty sure that's cheating."

They don’t go to Tokeiji, but they do end up spending quite a bit of the afternoon in Koshigoe Town. Rin takes Isagi to a second-hand bookshop he likes, full of old manga and comics from the 90’s, and they spend a while longer people watching from the street car until they get kicked off. At some point Bachira texts Isagi to check in, and when Isagi confirms he’s alive the rest of the Ex-Team Z group chat congratulate him on not getting drowned in the ocean, though Raichi adds an ominous Yet that Isagi does not appreciate.

Midafternoon rolls around and running on empty, they decide to stop for snacks.

Even the convenience stores in Kamakura are something else. Food, drinks, souvenirs, fishing supplies- Isagi must go through all the snack aisles at least three times in a stupor before forcing himself to stand in front of the candy and pick something. His go-to is gummies, so he grabs some sort of local sour variety and a soda and heads for the till. 

He pays, craning his neck and spotting a dark head still wandering about the aisles. Isagi wonders idly if Rin got overwhelmed by options as well but supposes if he's going to be a while longer, he might as well wait outside.

Standing by the door, Isagi tears into his candy and scrolls on his phone for a while. Bachira demands to see his souvenir and is pleased by the unhinged quality of his dolphin, though the rest of the chat's reactions to the picture are mixed. He's nearly halfway through the candy by the time Rin finally comes out, toting his own bag of snacks and… eye masks? This guy really never stops being the absolute weirdest, it seems.

Isagi must be pulling a face because Rin looks at him for a bit, just looks at him, so Isagi presents the remaining gummies in his hand as a peace offering. After a moment of apprehension, Rin takes them.

Isagi doesn't think anything of it, popping a few more in his mouth when a choking sound comes from a vaguely Rin-like height at his side.

When he glances over Rin’s mouth has pulled a disappearing act, lips sucked in as far as they can go, shoulders quivering as shudders wrack his body. He sniffs in a deep breath through his nose, face contorting, and then he gasps, squeezing out a pained Sour under his breath before choking again.

"Oh- shit. Oh!" Isagi laughs, grabbing him by the shoulder as he doubles over with the force of his coughing. "Are you the type that can't handle sour stuff?"

If looks could kill, Isagi would be cremated dust in a jar right now. As it is though, that's not a thing, and Rin's death glare does nothing to affect Isagi's state of being other than making him laugh harder at the pinched expression on his face.

He takes pity on him though and goes and buys Rin a drink, which he downs the moment it touches his hand. He chugs it so fast tea streaks the side of his chin, and when Isagi helpfully points this out all he gets for his trouble is a wicked punch to the shoulder and a truly scathing bitch out on the ethics of informing people on the things they’re about to eat.

All things considered, if this is what gets Isagi drowned in the ocean, he accepts his fate. It was worth it to watch Rin suffer. But it's as Rin lays into him again that Isagi realizes something else. 

Part of Isagi had thought he’d spend the entire day thinking about the U-20 match. Rin achieving ‘flow’, that unblinking expression, how he turned every obstacle he faced against his opponents and destroyed the field without mercy. It had been incredible to watch, even as horrible as it had been to admit in defeat that even if the winning goal had been Isagi’s, Rin was the one who’d found his ‘flow’ and dominated with it. They still were not equals on any playing field at the end of the day.

But in truth he hadn’t thought about any of that once. He’s been too busy having a good time, exploring a new city, spending time with a friend. Rin was a friend now, wasn’t he? A rival for sure, he’d said so himself, but the Rin who’s eyes went dark and jaw went slack is the same as the Rin who’s mouth twists up now because of something sour, chin sticky and eyes watery and green tea all over the collar of his jacket. He rubs his face vigorously until it goes red and Isagi laughs some more because he just looks so dumb doing it.

He can still make faces like this it seems.

The school comes into view over the tops of the trees, set back atop a hill. It’s sort of wild there’s a hill here at all because they had just been walking through a completely flat industrial area filled with tech buildings and shops, but that’s just the way Kamakura works, Isagi is starting to realize.

The gate at the foot of the slope is tall, barred on either side by brick and climbing ivy, the paved path beyond tree-lined and green. Three stories high, the main building is sleek and sharp, late afternoon light catching on its pale face and illuminating all the windows like signboards in a stadium. All in all, it looks pretty nice.

"Oh, a private school!" Isagi says, upon reading the placard beside the gate “I guess I really shouldn’t have been surprised, huh.”

Rin’s hands are in his pockets, looking up the hill coolly. “Their soccer team was beyond lukewarm. Even as a first year none of them could prove a challenge for me.”

Isagi chuckles. “That’s right, you’re still a first year student. Sometimes I forget you're younger than me.”

“Barely.” Rin says, indignant. He’s scowling again, like Isagi’s taken a dig at his pride. 

And it's not the and I'm still better than you at soccer he was expecting, which he isn't entirely sure if is a good thing or not.

"And I'm still better than you at soccer."

There it is. Isagi rolls his eyes.

They follow the fence around the building, stone and steel giving way to chainlinks as they reach the sports fields. They’re on the flat portion at the back of the hill, and Isagi can see the practice building and track circuit closest to the school, a decently wide open field taking up the rest of the space between there and the fence bearing the remnants of both baseball and soccer in the scattering of plates and cones.

Rin’s eyes are on the field, though his gaze is somewhat distant, Isagi notices, long fingers clutching the chainlink. With the way Blue Lock fell, he probably hadn’t gotten much time to play here at this school. He hadn’t even gotten much time to be at this school, Isagi realizes, never got much of a chance to play here with his team or his friends or anyone at all.

Shit. If he’d had time to make any friends. Did Rin even have friends?

Except- considering how normal he is about soccer and his brother, Isagi is beginning to seriously doubt Rin has friends. Excluding Isagi, apparently, who doesn't really count in this instance.

Shit. That’s pretty sad.

"Hey." He calls, nodding to the school when Rin turns. "Let's hop the fence."

The fence gets hopped easily enough, Rin all easy grace as he throws a long leg over the top and drops effortlessly down to the dirt on the other side. Isagi's landing is less elegant, but he's broken into plenty of fields after hours and scaled enough fences in his life to not eat shit upon touchdown, so it's fine. And if Rin looks a little amused at it too, that's also fine.

They walk the sports field for a while, Rin leading them around the perimeter, offering minimal commentary. The grass is neatly trimmed, vibrant and lush, dirt packed down in the appropriate spots, and Isagi would bet money it’s nicer than just about any field he’s ever played on, Blue Lock- maybe - excluded. The ocean breeze cards through the trees, bringing with it the scents of wood and sea and leaves, air so alive and green it makes Isagi wanna take off across the field just to feel the way it would enter his lungs. He’s really regretting not bringing a ball now. When he suggests breaking into the practice building to nab one Rin actually looks like he’s going to agree for one long moment before telling Isagi he’d call the cops on him if he tried.

Inevitably, they end up in the middle of the pitch, at the cross of the fading white lines outlining the soccer field. Rin kicks at the grass half-heartedly and maybe it's just because Isagi has such a clear, defined image of Rin's soccer in his head but he struggles to picture him playing here, on a normal high school team with normal high school people. Has anyone here got to see him make a goal from the center line, or take his parabola shot, or knew anything, the slightest bit, about what this genius bastard was capable of at all?

He knows the answer is no, and somehow that’s so disappointing. But then again, who were any of them before Blue Lock? A bunch of nobodies scraped up from every corner of Japan who didn’t know what they were capable of, and the few who knew all too well, big fish quickly outgrowing their small ponds. The Isagi of now was able to do things the Isagi of just a few short months ago couldn’t have ever imagined, and a good part of that was due to the indomitable force that was Itoshi Rin. Beating him became everything, every measure of Isagi’s worth as a player. After U-20 it was all out in the open but the pressure’s always there, the current still tugging at him, to drag Isagi along or down yet to be seen. It is tiring and it is frustrating, knowing he’s chasing after him even now, but Isagi is closer than ever before to standing shoulder to shoulder, looking him in the eye and knowing Rin was looking back. It makes the threat of having the cops called almost worth it to steal a ball and have at it right here and now, another chance to prove himself a threat not to be taken lightly.

But the grass looks soft and it's been a long day, so Isagi decides not to get arrested this evening and flops down on the ground instead. After a moment Rin abandons his one-sided beef with the grass to quietly follow suit, sitting down a short distance away, facing the school. Neither of them say anything for a while, and why did we come here ? is a question Isagi knows better than to ask. So he’ll ask something else.

"What were you good at in school?"

"P.E."

"Ha, of course." He snorts. "My favorites were P.E. and art."

"Art?" Rin echoes.

"Yeah. It was just fun, you know? Just something I could get into a flow with. Didn't have to think so much about it." Isagi stretches his arms out behind him, leaning back to stare at the yellowing sky. "I sucked at math and science and just about every other academic subject. I just wanted to play soccer, but art was okay. I liked painting.”

"Hmm." 

Then he says it so quietly, Isagi almost misses it.

"Me too."

Rin is tearing a blade of grass to pieces when Isagi looks at him again. The tips of his fingers are tinted yellow, and there’s a small pile of green collecting on his knee.

“What kind of stuff did you make?” Isagi asks.

“Gashadokuro.”

“...You’re scary Rin.”

“I doubt you did anything better.”

“Well, I painted a lot of soccer things…"

Rin makes a sound like all the air is being squeezed out of him. Isagi perks up.

“Oh, you’re laughing!”

“No, I’m not.”

“I heard it! So Rin can laugh!”

“You’re delusional.”

Except he's really not. Rin absolutely laughed. But when Isagi says it again he gets a handful of shredded grass to the face, directly in his mouth because of course it was open. He sputters, eyes going watery as he coughs up a lung, but through the running colors he can see the small grin on Rin’s face, the dip of his chin as he laughs silently at his pain. 

I want to make you laugh again. The thought strikes Isagi like a blow. He’s sputtering like an idiot with a lung full of pollen and grass on his tongue and he’s looking at the guy who did this to him and he’s thinking, and I want to be able to watch you properly next time.

When the worst of it subsides, Isagi pulls up his shirt to wipe his face, and realizes that this is probably karma coming back for him after those candies. And while he's in there, regretting his life decisions, Rin's words from earlier suddenly echo back up in his head, as if returning from the depths of a well. What did you want?

Isagi wants lots of things. Some perfectly regular and normal and others he’s discovering at mortifying inconvenient times, but he’s always known in some way he desired Rin’s attention. It seems stupid to say he came here to talk, because Rin doesn't talk with people, not really.

Rin’s been talking with him though. That’s what they’ve been doing- walking and talking and trading jabs, reciprocal back and forth rather than just the devouring on the field. Doesn’t that mean something?

What would Rin do if Isagi told him the truth? Would he be upset? Angry? Walk off and leave him here and never speak to him again?

Isagi drops his shirt and glances up, surprised to find Rin looking at him though he is quick to turn away. He's a little red on the cheeks and neck, and Isagi wonders if he got a sunburn walking around today. 

Rin stands up a moment later, dusting off his pants. “You look ridiculous.” He says coldly, not even gracing Isagi with a parting glance before legging it for the fence. “Hurry up. We’ve got a train to catch.”

And as Isagi watches him walk off for the millionth time today, he wonders why he does this to himself. He’s had to see this shitty guy almost constantly for the past few months, and the first chance he got to not have to he chooses willingly to go see him instead. He knows on some level this isn’t one-sided, but it wouldn’t kill Rin to make it a little easier to be his friend, would it?

Except, maybe it would, because that’s just who Rin is. All long legs and long neck and complete and utter disregard for Isagi as a person. Fucking bastard.

Though Isagi knows he's always been the type to look too much at others’ expressions, it feels especially dangerous now. But as he trails him all the way across the field, a blue silhouette stark against the golden sky, he knows he won’t stop.

You told me to keep my eyes on you. I just feel like right now I can't leave you alone.

“Does it still hurt?”

Isagi asks this to the space between them, what little there is. They’re in the middle of the train car, Rin holding to the handrail and Isagi standing free, trying not to fall, get crushed, and die. It’s really not that hard. The Enoden line is slow and runs along the ocean, packed with spectators up against the windows looking at the waves, heading to the beach for the coming sunset. The only thing making it hard is how close he has to stand to Rin and not be pressed against him.

Rin glances down at him, traces Isagi’s eyes to where they linger at the bandage on his cheek.

He shrugs.

Isagi follows the line of his shoulders, up, down, slump , watches him just stand there after, back to staring out the window like Isagi never said anything. 

Rin lives up to his name often enough; dignified, cold, aloof and above anything and everyone ever. Except for when he isn't. He can burn as hot as he does cold and Isagi knows he’ll do anything to win even if he’s too prideful to accept anything other than total control of a situation, and for some reason Isagi finds himself getting a little angry then. It’s a pointless, antsy anger, running through his wrists and fingers like static, and he clenches his fists. Reminds himself Rin got to keep all his teeth. For better or for worse, he really does have a habit of making impossible saves with that stupid face of his.

Isagi elbows him a little. All it takes in this cramped car is raising an arm a bit. “You just keep taking shit to the face, huh.”

Rin lets out a long breath through his nose. “Story of my life.” 

The laugh is out of him before he knows it. He’s coughing before he gets it under control, and people are looking at him now, shuffling away in tiny increments, and Rin’s expression hasn’t changed but there’s a gleam in his eyes as they observe Isagi making a fool of himself in the middle of their packed train.

And really, how is any of this fair? It can’t just be karma at this point, but if it is, it’s everything the universe has been holding against Isagi for the past year. For every goal he’s scored in Blue Lock he will have to have one meltdown in front of Itoshi Rin- loudly.

He does stop eventually, leaning against Rin then. He’s got his hand on his shoulder once more but he tells himself it’s only to find his balance now that there’s air in his lungs again.

“Nothing keeps you down, though.” Isagi says, looking up at him from under his bangs.

Rin snorts, but doesn’t move away, eyes full of the orange-tinted sea. “Damn straight.”

Inamuragasaki park springs from the cliffs of the peninsula in a jarringly sharp way. There’s street and then there’s green and then there’s just a whole park high on a bluff, overlooking the ocean and the rocky shore below.

“Wow! The sand really is black here!”

Isagi jumps up on the guardrail, glancing out over the beach. At the base of the park a sharp rock outcropping juts into the sea and from there miles of coal-dark sand hug the tide, glittering like stardust in the golden light. A handful of people mill about the rocks, pedestrians dotting the sand and paths, wearing wetsuits and hanging their surfboards off the side. 

In the distance Enoshima island lingers along the horizon, green and stark, the high curves of its cliffs rising above the sea. And even higher above that, the massive shape of Mt. Fuji, crowned in snow and piercing the twilit clouds skirting its remote peak.

“This really is like something out of a TV show.” Isagi squints at the island. "Oh, is that the Sea Candle over there? I’ve never seen it before!" He glances back at Rin, standing several feet behind him. “Have you ever been, Rin? We should go sometime!”

“No.”

Isagi laughs, hopping down. “You’re no fun.”

The footpath continues for quite some length, curling with the coast and the street, and they follow it along. Couples were already starting to gather on the rocky shore, ready for the sunset, the cars that pass them on the road growing fewer and farther between. Isagi really would have expected more people to be here, but it’s the quietest it's been all day, just the two of them walking for long stretches of beach, the rustling of seagrasses and the soft lapping of waves falling over the scrape of their sneakers. 

After a while, Isagi declares they’ve found the perfect spot, tucked around a little bend in the path and partially shielded by trees, set perfectly behind Mt. Fuji with a full view of the sky. Rin doesn’t say otherwise, so they settle against the metal railing, a meter or so between them. The breeze is colder here, stronger right off the ocean, the scent bitter and spiked. 

"Wow, we got lucky to be able to see it this clearly.” Isagi says, drumming his hands excitedly on the rail. “Ending the day watching the sun go down over Mt. Fuji… we ended up doing some touristy stuff anyways today, huh."

Rin shrugs, eyelashes fluttering against the wind. "I just went where I liked. You followed me."

Isagi doesn’t argue with him, hiding a smile in the fist he rests his chin on. He checks his phone, noting that sunset is still a little while off, and after shooting a quick text to his mother to let her know he’ll be a bit longer, pockets it. There hadn’t been any agreed upon time for this to be over, but Isagi was pleasantly surprised at how long the day had stretched out. He’d really expected Rin to ditch him sometime after midday, but here they were, sworn rivals watching the sunset at the beach. Life was full of surprises.

Isagi cranes his head up, watching the sea birds scatter in the air, soaring for the horizon. Mt. Fuji is cast dark red in the falling light, limned in clouds and so, so huge, towering over the waves of Sagami bay. It's a sight to behold, unlike any sunset he’s ever seen before. He is surprised to find then, when he glances over to the side, that Rin isn’t even watching. 

His head is tipped down, looking at his hands where they’re resting on the guard rail. Small faded white cuts criss-cross the flats of his palms and fingers, thread-thin shadows on his skin in the slanted light. Isagi has never noticed them before. Or rather, never been close enough to notice.

His eyes trail up to Rin’s face, hidden behind bangs and bandages. Something aches within Isagi at the sight, thick and slow, starting in his knuckles and traveling up and up and all the way to the center of his sternum. He looks so distant. Lonely. What could be on his mind, making him look like that?

"Rin." 

He glances up, as if being pulled from a trance. His eyes refocus on Isagi, blinking softly, liquid green.

And Isagi has to swallow the knot that's suddenly tied up his throat. “Hey. What’s on your mind?”

Rin blinks again, distaste twisting his upper lip before his expression smoothes out. “Nothing.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Isagi informs him kindly. “C’mon. Talk to me.”

“Fuck off.”

"Can’t. Kind of stuck here with you. You know, if you didn’t want to talk to me, why did you let me come here today?"

Rin’s gaze sharpens. "Why did you want to?"

The question drops like a stone, like a gauntlet thrown. They look at each other in the low light. Isagi had been messing around, but by the look on Rin’s face, he was not.

No one says anything. They just keep staring. It’s a stalemate. Isagi wonders how it is, no matter the situation, they always end up here. Neither one of them able to make progress unless the other moves first.

Isagi decides he’ll take the loss for this one. "I was worried about you." He admits.

Rin’s brow furrows, expression slipping into something guarded. His hands flex against the rail, knuckles clicking as they go white, and as difficult as his face can be to read, Rin’s body more than makes up for it in communicating his thoughts on any matter. Isagi knows he’s treading into dangerous territory but he’s never been afraid of what following Rin might earn him. 

He rubs a hand up his neck with a sigh, and forges on. “After everything that happened, you said you’d never forgive me. I still don’t expect you to, but I wanted to see how you were doing. And when you said I could come see you I thought that maybe you weren't as angry as-"

" Shut up . It's your fault you know." The hiss is blunt and forceful, a strike. Rin whirls on him and Isagi nearly flinches, the acid burn of his gaze searing when it lands on him. "You thought, what, exactly? That I wasn't still pissed at you when you ruined everything for me? Because I am. I never stopped.”

He lurches closer, voice so low, seething, dripping cold fury. “You’ve been watching me all day. I know you have. You pity me don’t you? After all, you know what you did. You took my goal. You took my spotlight. You took my brother's-"

Rin cuts himself off, looking faintly ill. His throat works, taking back down everything he left unsaid, but Isagi hears it loud and clear.

You took my brother’s attention away from me.

The thing is, Isagi didn’t go into this with a plan. This trip, this interaction, this very moment, he was taking it as it came, rolling with every punch. He figured something like this would happen at some point and hadn't thought about consequences, just wanted to try his luck, because as he’d learned all those months ago at the end of the second selection, when it came to Rin and luck, sometimes you just had to fuck around and find out. 

Isagi steps forward, forcing Rin to back up. "Yeah. I did. I meant what I said too. I will be the one to lead Japan to victory in the U-20 world cup. " He steps closer, stares him dead in the eye, past the bandages and the bangs and all the bullshit. "I also wanted to be the one who crushed you. I wanted you to look at me."

Rin’s lip curls like he’s about to snap back but Isagi doesn’t give him a chance. "It's not pity, by the way. You're always telling me to look at you, focus only on you. You use me for your own goals and still you never look at me." Isagi grins, teeth and vitriol, and he's never been a good goalkeeper or defender for that matter, he's always been a forward, tackling his problems head-on with everything he has. "I hate being ignored, you know. I'm a living being too."

His words land with some effect, if the ripple in Rin’s throat is anything to go by. As if to prove his point, Rin’s head drops, staring at the ground.

Standing over Niko felt a bit like this, Isagi thinks, looking at the top of his bowed head. Half triumph and half something a little sicker- pleasurable, cruel. But as satisfying as it should be, laying Rin low, there is no triumph in this. This isn’t the way he wanted to crush him. This isn’t the way he wanted Rin at all.  

"You're wrong."

Rin says it to the concrete. He's shaking.

"I look at you. I see you all the time. I'm forced to." Rin spits. He tears a hand through his hair, baring those bright, dangerous eyes for one flash of a moment. "The fact I needed you for my goals at all. It's disgusting. And now, I have to acknowledge you as my rival? I can't be free of you, no matter what I do."

Isagi takes another step, gesturing to the shrinking space between them with a hand. "You said this distorted way was how our relationship was supposed to be. Did you mean that?"

"Of course. What other way could there be?" He shakes his head and looks away. “It doesn’t matter though. I’m not going to play soccer for reasons like that anymore. I won’t be tied down by you, or my brother, or anything else.”

Rin says it with such conviction, eyes all ice, spine all steel, and Isagi feels the horrible desire to laugh. He’s going to cram their fucking skulls together one of these damn days, put them both out of their misery. Maybe steal some of those thoughts, those plans while he’s up there, see what he sees and maybe fucking get a clue what he actually feels about any of this because he's obviously not going to tell Isagi himself. 

He scrubs a hand up the back of his head. It’s not pity he feels, it’s really not. It’s hard to pity someone when they’re this willfully stubborn. "You were lying when you said it was an awkward yet healthy relationship between you two, huh."

"I didn't think I was at the time." Rin’s face screws up. "But I was a fool. He wouldn’t look at me, no matter what I did. And now I know there’s no point." 

Isagi recalls a brief glimpse amongst the chaos, Sae standing over Rin on the ground after the U-20 match. Thinking of how long he sat there afterwards, and how he acted in the locker room following that, Isagi figures whatever words were exchanged probably weren’t great.

And it doesn’t take a genius to see how much of Sae’s frigidity affects Rin's too. For all his ferocity, Rin was still a shadow, fashioned from his brother's spotlight by his own hand. But if Sae was ice to the core, Rin was frost-bitten, cold in all the places where it mattered despite the fever that still beat at the heart of him, freezing and alone in this wasteland soccer had become in his brother’s absence. 

Isagi had always been lucky in that regard. He never had to go through any of this alone. His parents encouraged him to live as he wanted, loved him whether he was average or special, the friends he made along the way always pushing him to be better. Isagi was more than that oft-forgotten forward he was before, changed and sharpened and yeah, probably a little bit worse as a person, leaving behind so many things but learning so much more and never once alone through any of it, surrounded and supported by so many people aiming for that same goal as himself.

And then there was Rin. Brutal. Singular. Clawing for every inch he got, all on his own, starving for so long before he’d made a meal of Isagi that first time, and every time he devoured him since. Feeding his own ferocious ego bit by bit rather than letting himself freeze over and go numb.

Isagi looks at him. Really looks at him. "You work so hard, Rin." He says.

And Isagi actually gets to watch it happen this time, Rin going red from ears to neck. Not a trick of the light, not a sunburn. Just good old fashioned fury.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rin snarls, looking about two seconds away from pushing Isagi over the rail.

"Exactly that." Isagi rolls his eyes, turning back to the water. "It's a compliment, genius. Just take it."

A huff comes from his left, but Isagi does not get pushed over the rail, at the very least. Rin’s been kind of a coward with carrying through on his threats today. 

A moment later he feels when Rin draws near again, putting his weight back on the rail beside him. Their shoulders brush as he adjusts. And then they’re still.

The waves roll on. Birds fly overhead. A couple walks quietly along the shore below, hand in hand. The world is not still, but they are, for once. 

Isagi stares down at the sand, glittering darkly from below. Shoulder to shoulder at last, in this regard at least. It’s not as satisfying as he expects it to be. There’s still a tension in the air, thick as ozone, lightning ready to strike; but they sit there in silence, close enough to hear each other breathe, and neither of them acknowledge it.

The sun finally begins to slip away. Rin is watching this time, hard chin and round cheeks and unbelievably straight nose, a perfect relief cast in gold. The clouds overhead blaze red, a flare sent up at the last moment before it’s truly gone, leaving behind golden trails of light and the sinking blue of the coming night. A stunning, once-in-a-lifetime scene.

Isagi finds it hard to pay attention though, is still looking at Rin despite it all. It won’t let up- that tension. It’s harder, more centered now, pressure bearing down on his stomach directly. 

To address it is all but asking for the storm, running out into the lightning with a kite. Wild faith and belligerent disregard for anything other than what he wants- but Rin put it out there. And now Isagi needs to know. 

He turns to him, before he loses the nerve. "You know, you never answered me. I keep telling you, I came here to see you. Why did you let me, if you were so tired of seeing me?"

The world tilts sharply- sharp as the jolt of pain that shoots through Isagi’s chest when he collides with the metal railing. Rin had shoved him. Hard. And before Isagi can recover, Rin is on him again, shoving him and shoving him until Isagi gets his arms up between them and shoves back. 

Rin grunts, stumbling back for a moment and Isagi pushes him again. It doesn’t do much, not with how solid the bastard is, and Rin’s got reach and retaliates quickly, forcing him up against the railing. Boxed in, Isagi takes a shot at his kneecaps like he’s wanted to all day and this proves effective in getting Rin to back off- for all of three seconds. And then the next thing Isagi knows, he’s being full-body tackled by two meters of teenage soccer prodigy.

They end up locked at the elbows, struggling against each other for a moment before losing their balance, slamming into the nearest telephone pole. They both groan upon impact, and Rin disentangles them, pushing Isagi back and putting distance between them. 

As quickly as it started, it’s over. They end up on opposite sides of the path, gasping for air, the harsh sounds of their breaths cutting open the night. 

Isagi curls against the rail, wiping sweat from his face, ribs and shoulder aching. Shit fucking hurt. 

Rin’s somewhere behind him and he can hear him panting, moving slowly towards him. He takes a deep breath, and just as he’s about to stand hands grab him by the shoulders and then Rin’s in his face, and Isagi sends up a prayer because he’s probably about to eat one hell of a headbutt-

And then Rin’s kissing him.

At least, he’s pretty sure that's what's happening. Rin’s face is shoved against Isagi’s face and he’s not headbutting him unless headbutts in Kamakura have a lot more tongue than he’s used to, and his brain is racing- what is happening - but in its haste it stumbles over itself and achieves nothing. 

Because Rin. Itoshi Rin is kissing him.

There is so much spit. So much tongue. Despite the rapid breakdown of his better senses Isagi knows this is objectively hilarious, because of course Rin would kiss like this, would laugh if he had a mouth to laugh with and two brain cells to make it happen. As it is, there’s drool on his chin, and Rin tilts his head, clutching Isagi’s jaw hard enough to ache, and Isagi isn’t sure if he’s kissing back at this point or just being torn apart in Rin’s riptide, slashed between hands and teeth and tongue. He isn’t sure if he even wants to be kissing back, because, really, he hadn’t expected this, couldn't have foreseen this, how was he ever supposed to know, except-

Shit. He hadn't even realized it. Rin had already said it- all the time he'd been watching Rin so closely, Rin had been watching him right back. He’d just been looking away before getting caught. Isagi was the one struggling not to be left behind all day but they’d actually been chasing the other’s turned back the entire time- and hadn’t they always been like that? 

And then Rin rips his face away.

"I never want to see you again." He hisses through clenched teeth. His chin is wet too and at some point one of his bandages got ripped off and he’s saying this inches from his mouth but so pointedly not looking at Isagi like it’s what’s going to save him this time.

It’s a feint and the worst one he’s seen yet. Isagi wipes off his chin with his sleeve. "You're lying about that too."

Rin looks up, just for a moment. His eyes shine like sea glass, clear and sharp and fragile. Like Isagi could crush him under heel right now. Like he would be powerless to stop him. 

He jerks away, breaking contact.

Rin presses his hands to his face, burrowing every inch of vulnerability in them. “I just wanted to fight alone… Why won’t anyone just leave me alone?”

His voice is so raw. He hunches against the cold wind, tearing at his face, and it may have taken him a second to get with the program, but Isagi’s up to date now, and he’s never wanted anything more in his life than to force Itoshi Rin to look at him at this moment. He won’t let him slip away that easily.

He grabs Rin by the collar, dragging him to eye level. “Tough shit. We’re going back to Blue Lock together, with everyone else. There needs to be a second-best striker in the world after me, after all.”

Rin’s eyes are wide, expression one of open shock before it crumbles. He goes rigid under Isagi’s touch, shoulders folding in like a wounded animal backed into a corner.

"You're going to drag me along whether I want to go or not, aren't you?" His voice cracks, and Isagi realizes it then. Rin is terrified, and that makes Isagi a little too.

This is going so fast. Neither of them have even said- what, how they feel? How does Isagi feel? A little confused. A lot like he just got punched in the mouth by Rin’s mouth. He wasn’t angry, he’s just so out of his element here, but Rin must like him though, right? That’s why he kissed him. 

Somehow forming that complete thought feels like taking a tackle all its own. Isagi's heart is pounding, and when did that happen? 

He looks at Rin again. Finally within his grasp after so long spent chasing him, eye to eye for real now. His chin is still wet, face red from ear to ear and there’s a strange little pale space across his nose where the bandage got torn off. Isagi isn’t angry. He isn’t even disgusted. He feels- he just feels caught, and caught for what, exactly? For looking? For caring? For wanting?

And that’s the final piece, isn’t it. Once more, Isagi sees it. He sees it all. 

Isagi hadn’t just been an idiot, he’d been blind. This thing that crept up on him so slowly and steadily that he just about missed it happening at all before it arrived.

But there isn’t any way this ends well. At least not as Isagi sees it with the field at play. It feels like losing, but he might need to stop while he’s still ahead.

Isagi lets go of him. "No. That's for you to decide." He’ll make the pass to Rin, put him back in control. He straightens up and takes a step away.  "You started this. You get to choose how it ends."

Rin looks at the distance Isagi puts between them, separated now by one length of metal rail. One-third of the telephone wire above their heads, one tiny infinitesimal portion of the wide and endless ocean stretching between them, distant and near all at once. Closer than where they started but somehow farther apart than they’ve been all day.

And it's like something has cracked within him, the way he looks at Isagi next. Green eyes search him over, rake him up and down, openly, unabashedly. Resentful, sour, and bare. 

He turns, putting Isagi to his back.

“You’re going home. I’m walking you back to the station.”

He starts off without waiting for an answer. And after the day he’s had, Isagi will take the heads up for what it is- a concession. 

“Alright.”

The walk back to the station is painfully awkward. Gone is the enthusiasm for the banter, the day. Isagi is just tired. There’s been a lot of revelations in the last hour alone, things that will undoubtedly be keeping him company on the train ride home. Things he will spend the night in bed staring at his ceiling and reliving until exhaustion claims him- if it takes him at all. 

Rin hasn’t completely pulled away from him at the very least. He sticks close to Isagi’s side, blocking off the worst of the cold sea wind. Their hands have bumped together several times as they’ve been walking.

It’s asking for another shove, or worse, another punch. But when has Isagi ever known when to quit? In a moment of daring, he takes the chance to reach out, wrapping Rin’s pinky with his own and squeezing.

Rin’s eyes cut down to their interlocked fingers, looking a little rueful, thinking a thought he doesn’t share. He stands it for a few moments before pulling away and tucking his hands into his pockets.

And Isagi knows better than to count that as a win, but it’s not a loss either, he thinks. Rin allowed him to do it at all. 

There’s still a lot he hasn’t sorted out in his head. A lot ahead of them and behind them and in between, but it’s because of that Isagi won’t give up on Rin, on this. They pull each other along, pull each other down, but they can’t do this without each other just yet. They’ll have to face this again at some point.

And Isagi will be ready next time for when they do.

"Hey, Rin."

Posture hunched, Rin’s tired eyes slid over to Isagi. Looking like he’d rather do anything other than exist right now.

Isagi sticks out his foot, kicks him a little. "Tell me about those movies you got earlier. They looked interesting. I might want to check them out too."

Rin scoffs. "Not sure you could handle them. They're pretty intense." 

He’s way too smug, throwing Isagi's words back at him, for someone who looked like he wanted to die not a few minutes ago.

Isagi shrugs, and does his best to reassure him. "Won't know unless we try."

If Rin feels any way about Isagi using his own words against him too, he makes no indication of it. But that's fine. This is the way Isagi usually handles things. It's certainly proven an effective approach with handling Rin, and seeing as he’ll be meeting him back at Blue Lock soon enough, he’s sure he’ll get plenty more mileage out of it there too.

Because they really won’t know. Not unless they try.