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“Nothing should bring you more joy than your own goals. Live only for that glorious moment. And if you can’t, then you’re no striker at all.”
Those words keep echoing in Nayeon’s brain, wedging themselves in the parts of her thoughts not overcome with the lingering pulse of adrenaline from Team Z’s win. It’d been odd, standing right in front of the goal, skin flushed and slick with sweat, with the cheers of her teammates ringing around the arena, unable to match their euphoria. Nayeon had turned to look at them, wiping her face with the edge of her issued jersey, watched Dahyun jump on Sana’s back and nearly tackle her to the ground with joy, watched how Jihyo and Tzuyu exchanged high fives and a rare, full smile erupted across Tzuyu’s face.
She couldn’t see him, but she knew Ego was observing them from his control room, waiting to deliver another announcement about how this was nothing to get excited about. And he was right. Team Z was dependent on each other now, but when the other teams finally (hopefully) fell, they would shift from teammates to obstacles. Nayeon couldn’t become the best striker in the world with any of them shackled to her by feelings.
No matter how nice it felt to eat with Sana and Momo during dinner, or strategize with Jihyo, or practice with Jeongyeon in the evenings.
Nayeon let her jersey drop, about to walk off the field, when she noticed the one person who wasn’t celebrating.
Mina brushed sweat-damp hair from her eyes, a few strands curling out of her ponytail and against her neck. She looked refined in a way that should’ve been at odds with the quick, dirty actions of soccer. Her jersey was as soaked as the rest of theirs, but Mina carried herself with a certain elegance that drew Nayeon’s attention from the first day. It didn’t make sense, not when they’d been locked in a rivalry since Team Z was formed, but Nayeon had excellent vision. Mina was beautiful as she was enigmatic.
Their eyes held, just for a few seconds, when Mina’s head turned. Something awakened in the pit of Nayeon’s stomach, the kind of fiery sensation normally reserved for scoring, and her chest tightened, breath trapped unconsciously.
“Hey, Nayeon-ah!” Momo’s voice blasted through her Mina-induced fog like an air horn, swinging hands with Sana absentmindedly. “We’re going to wash up and get dinner. Sana heard a rumor that we get tonkatsu for winning our last two matches!”
“Be right there.” Nayeon called back, hurriedly looking away from Mina. She was the only person who trained as rigidly as Nayeon did, always beating her to the practice field and silently going through her regime while Nayeon stretched.
She’s the only one who’s as ruthless as I need to be.
***
Droplets burst over Nayeon’s skin, refreshingly cool in her post-workout state, dribbling from the mouth of her water bottle. Team Z celebrated with an all-you-can-eat buffet provided by Ego, halfheartedly looking at strategies when Jihyo pulled out her whiteboard, but mostly reveling. Nayeon couldn’t help the bloom of fondness that unfolded in her chest, watching it all with a full stomach and tender muscles. Mina said little, but smiled along with the rest of them and engaged in side conversations with Tzuyu and Sana. Nayeon didn’t like the fleeting glances Mina sent her way, getting the sense she was being challenged without knowing the game.
The locker room was blissfully silent, since most of Team Z passed out early from their self-induced food comas. Jihyo stayed up to tinker with the strategy plan she sketched, and Mina had slipped off without any warning. Nayeon added an extra 15 sets to her sprinting exercises as punishment for being disappointed about this. You don’t become the best striker in the world by catching feelings for the other players.
It was pushing 10:30 now. Nayeon needed rest as much as anyone else on Team Z. Their match against Team X tomorrow would determine who got to move onto the second selection, and Nayeon refused to relinquish her spot. She grabbed her discarded jersey from the bench, still overheated in just a tank top, and muttered a curse when her water bottle clattered to the floor. Before Nayeon could grab it, another hand scooped it up.
“Careful.”
Mina stood, weighing the bottle easily in her palm, looking fresh from a workout. Nayeon nearly took a step back, unfamiliar and unnerved by the surge of vitality in her system. This should’ve only been activated by the rush on the field, the unmatched power of scoring the most, knowing the opponent was utterly defeated.
(But, maybe it was because Nayeon knew Mina shared her mindset that this was so appealing.)
Nayeon frowned. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you on the field.”
Mina shrugged, even that motion annoyingly fluid, and tossed the bottle to Nayeon. “I have another space I like to use. Plus I’m familiar with your workout routine by now, and I figured you weren’t going to want my company.”
That rankled, sharp and taut with irritation. Nayeon slipped the bottle into her pocket, intending to brush past Mina without another word, but my company caught like a thorn against her thoughts. She spun around abruptly, almost trapping Mina between herself and the lockers. The flash of surprise in Mina’s eyes was relishing.
“Why your company specifically?” Nayeon demanded. “Don’t get a bigger head than you deserve.”
“You keep better track of my goals than I do.” Mina raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “You look so, so pissed every morning when you show up for workouts and I’m already there. I know you’ve been asking Sana and Momo about what my nighttime rituals are.”
“Who told you that?” Nayeon spluttered, already knowing the answer. Mina didn’t bother replying. Damn that blabbermouth Sana. “It- it doesn’t even matter anyway. You’re keeping tabs on me just as much. I see you watching, all the fucking time. And during matches, you’re always making sure I’m in the vicinity. Because-”
She trailed off, not sure what point she was trying to make anymore. Mina’s lips were slightly parted, fingers splayed over her arm, and something about the tilt to her head, the surge of breath through her chest, Nayeon was flooded with dizziness.
“Because I know you’re just as determined as I am?” Mina supplied lightly. “Because I see that- that cold fire on your face and I know you get it, what Blue Lock is for? We’re not here for friends, or camaraderie. Anyone who doesn’t understand that is wasting everyone’s fucking time by taking up a potential slot.”
Nayeon shouldn’t be so on fire from Mina’s cutthroat mentality. But here she was, tensed like she was about to take the winning shot.
“And I see how you look at me.” Mina added, much quieter. “The hunger in your eyes.”
“Give me a break.” Nayeon rasped out. “We’re all running on adrenaline and spite, of course I react when a hot girl is on my team.”
Of course, Mina wasn’t the only attractive one on Team Z, but Nayeon was pretty sure Sana and Momo were at least friends with benefits, if not actively (tragically) falling in love. Tzuyu and Jihyo brushed hands a little too much for it to be just friendly.
But none of them had that fire rampant in Nayeon’s veins, or the one flickering in Mina’s eyes before she grabbed two fistfuls of Nayeon’s tank top and yanked her into a searing kiss.
Nayeon’s hands fluttered for just a moment, surprise flushing out every other emotion, before instinct took over and she planted them against the cool metal on either side of Mina. The fatigue creeping up was beaten back by rapidly accelerating desire, hyper aware of Mina. How she breathed and sighed and rushed into kisses like an ocean wave, clinging to Nayeon’s hip and cheek, how she allowed Nayeon to nibble on her bottom lip but took back possession with a stroke of her tongue, how there was only thin material between their bodies.
“God, Mina-” Nayeon gasped when Mina finally broke away to mouth teasingly at her earlobe. The deep shudder that trembled through Mina’s shoulders afterward was a welcome surprise, awakening something dark in Nayeon’s gut, much like the rumble under her skin when they took the lead in a match.
“I like how it sounds when you say my name like that.” Mina murmured, palms hot where she’d slid them under Nayeon’s tank top. “Almost as good as scoring.”
“Maybe-” Nayeon practically purred, bones rattling in time with her frayed nerves, “maybe we keep this up for a bit? If we both make it to second selection, we continue until someone doesn’t want to. If not, no hard feelings.”
Mina paused just for a moment, thumb brushing against Nayeon’s hipbone in a deliciously short curve. “No feelings at all?”
Nayeon could commit to that. No one’s presence here was guaranteed, after all, and if Nayeon had her way, Mina would be facing off against her to crown Nayeon the best striker in the world. She craved that moment like air.
(And the chance to explore Mina some more.)
“None.” Nayeon promised before pulling Mina in for another kiss.