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43 YUKKI, THE PRETTY BOY!

Gagamaru pops up from behind Barou, bug eyes watching the screen and it reflects almost laughably perfectly, "They didn't let him in on anything. He just kinda took the ball away from them."

Barou snarls at Gagamaru's head on his shoulder and whips his face around to look down at him, "You wanna fucking go, jungle boy?"

Gagamaru shakes his head. "Not really."

"It's still pretty amazing regardless," You say, and Hiori nods to your words. "Nothing unexpected from somebody like you, King."

Barou shifts his gaze from the jungle boy to you, sharp red eyes cutting into you like knives—a scrutinizing gaze that felt less condescending and more...

You couldn't find the word. He lifts a brow, as if questioning you, but quickly scoffs and turns his head away before you grow even further confused. You squint your eyes at the back of his head.

Barou... is a particular guy... but I don't think that's a bad thing.

No, not at all.

Hiori catches your attention when he raises his finger and points at a move, "Shidou's scoring is so independent. He doesn't rely on anybody whatsoever. Ego told us that becoming strong is all about the chemical reactions you create, but I would go so far as to say he hasn't done that one time since I've seen him play."

"You're right," Reo suddenly speaks up, and all attention is now on him. You peer over at him from behind Hiori—Barou and Gagamaru's head peaking atop of yours—"Even in the second selection... Shidou's always played his own way. He doesn't listen to anyone. He doesn't even try and connect with anyone. He just... plays how he wants to."

"Huh. So like, a more extreme Barou." Gagamaru places a long finger on his chin.

"YOU—"

You nod, ignoring the brawl between the two boys happening behind you. You bring your legs up to your chest and hold them close together, "Shidou doesn't really care how others see him, and he just does what he wants... If it wasn't him, I'd probably respect him for it."

Hiori nods, a solemn expression on his face. You wonder what he's thinking about. "Yeah."

"There's only ten minutes until the last match," Gagamaru speaks up, big beady eyes trained on you. "Isn't your team playing, [name]?"

Your eyes widen and you scramble up, pillow flying towards the side, but you barely notice through your panic, "Sorry—I have to go! Bye!"

You rush through the door, slippers barely hanging on your feet and smacking against the hard tiles of the halls as you run.

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The game ends with a loud blow of a whistle, and Jenny sighs loudly with her face in her hands. The last game for your team (and by extension, the whole stratum) has finished with a teeth-chattering goal that was practically shared between Shidou and Rin. The last few seconds were them both running next to each other and trying to push the other back physically for their goal—which ended up in Rin's favour.

Shidou snarls, a tic mark pulsing on his forehead and eyes red with rage, "You little shit...!"

They both tumble to the ground from the sheer force of Rin's kick, and your stomach starts twisting at the thought of what might come next.

"GAME OVER! With a score of 5 — 4, Team A wins!"

You should be happy your team won. Deep down, you are. You should feel good and proud at this very moment—but how can you, when your players are currently engaging in their fifth brawl today?

Bachira wipes the sweat off his top lip and voices your thoughts—you waste no time in discarding your bag and rushing into the field, as fast as your fucked-up legs could possibly take you. But you're far too slow and far too late—Shidou's cackling maniacally and probably knocked a tooth or two out of Rin's mouth.

Blood seeps out of Rin's nose and every alert in your brain is going off. You're barely thinking as you reach into your pocket and grab ahold of the button, and wasting not a single second, you slam it down hard. Shidou is frozen mid-air for a second with his position of about to be kicking Rin's brains into his throat—he falls to the ground with a loud thump.

Unmoving, and motionless—Ryusei Shidou twitches idly on the ground for a few seconds before he's fast asleep. You look down, standing over him with a blank look. You ignore Tokimitsu's terrified whimpers, the laugh Bachira lets out, and the gasps from the other players.

Crouching down to your knees, they dig into the plastic grass beneath your skin and it stings—but not nearly as bad as your head pounding with fury, "You... really like making my life harder, don't you?" You lean down, lips fluttering over the shell of his ear—you don't care he can't hear you, you need this etched into his brain. "If I'm fired, I'll haunt you and your next seven generations."

Your eyes meet Rin's when you say that—and he only looks away, clutching his bleeding nose with a clearly pissed-off face.

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