𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻

"Isagi, do you think he's dead?"

The pair of you were huddled over Bachira, who was currently dead to the world. You'd been trying to wake him for the past five minutes to get ready for the day's practice and absolutely nothing had worked.

Isagi shook his head, "No, but he will be if you keep suffocating him with that pillow."

Your eyes widened and you quickly lifted the pillow from Bachira's snoring face, "I forgot I was doing that...well, at least we know unconscious adrenaline won't wake him up."

"Everyone's already eating..."

"Oh!" you brightened, "You know how like when people are in comas, their favorite song is supposed to wake them up?" You were truly quite the genius, if you do say so yourself.

"A, we don't know his favorite song. B, we have nothing to play music with."

Okay, never mind.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Alright, you grab his left hand. I'll get the other one."

You and Isagi pushed the cafeteria door open with your backs, dragging Bachira's limp form in tow.

"How is he so fucking heavy?" you grunted and let the boy's arm fall next to the rest of his body once you were through the door frame.

Isagi wiped his forehead with his sleeve, "You tell me."

"Why is Bachira sleeping on the floor?" Kunigami called out from his table.

"We can't wake him up!" Isagi shouted back.

You sighed and retrieved your meal. It was disheartening to have to eat the same thing three times a day, every day. The food managed to look even sadder and soggier than usual, maybe it was feeling the effects of being locked in this building, too. Resigned, you sat down with your tray at the table along with the rest of the team.

"Where do you guys think Kuon is?" Luckily, Kuon was nowhere to be seen, saves your knuckles a pounding, but you were curious anyway.

"He better be fucking thankful it's not here, I'd kill him!" Raichi yelled, you shrugged in agreement. Rivals to partners in crime AU? You'd look pretty good in an orange jumpsuit, in your opinion.

Isagi shook his head, "You guys can't murder him. What he did was screwed up, but so is this entire competition. He just wanted to survive."

You pointed your chopsticks toward him, "Wanna be an accomplice?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I can take care of the evidence."

"Amazing." you smiled, "Anyway, assassination plots are for later. We still have to wake him up." Your arm lazily motioned toward Bachira, who was still snoozing on the floor. Cafeteria floor. Disgusting.

You pushed out from your chair and walked over to him. Crouching down to where your mouth was level with his ear, "Wake up and I can show you another trick-shot during warmup."

He immediately jolted up and his head knocked with your nose. Your hand flew over your face to hold it.

"Fucking hell!" you yelped.

He looked back at you and grinned, "Sorry!" he said, completely unremorseful.

You grumbled under your breath but stood up and yanked him off the ground as well, "You sleep like a goddamn rock, Bachira."

"Thank you!"

You gawked.

Your team was currently occupying the weight room. You had just previously attempted to pick up the dumbbells Kunigami was using, quite effortlessly. Meanwhile, you nearly collapsed back over the rack. There'd never been much use to building up your upper-body strength, something you were currently regretting.

"How do you pick it up that easily?" you frowned, still leaning over the rack of the weights to stare at him.

He looked back at you, "Muscle."

"No way! Forreal??"

"Yeah."

"I was kidding..." you muttered.

"Sorry, Kazuma. I'm pretty focused while I work out."

You sighed, "I get it." As per usual, you walked out on whatever Team Z was doing to roam the hallways. Maybe if you spent enough time in them you'd unlock an achievement, evolve into a spirit that haunts the Blue Lock facility.

No, actually, being bound to this place for eternity sounds like a condemnation from hell.

You walked in the bathroom and shut one of the stall doors behind you, and you were about to sit down until you heard a voice from the other side of the door.

"How come you never use the urinals like everyone else?" Bachira? Why does he always find you in the bathroom? He continued, "Y'know, you never shower with us either."

Your throat went dry, why does he pay so much attention to everything? "Why are you in here?" You managed to ask instead.

"You told me you'd show me another trick of yours, so when I saw you leave the gym I thought you might be going to the field." The sound of Bachira's foot tapping on the tiled floor became more rapid, "But, now, I'm just kinda confused. I get if you're insecure, but why do you even go in a stall if there's no one here?"

You were absolutely frozen, which was quite awkward in the middle of a restroom stall, "...What if I'm taking a shit?"

"Are you?"

"No..." Why didn't you lie? A woman's gotta have some dignity. Was it a stupid decision? Yes. Do you regret it? Yes. If only you could have said 'yes.' In all honesty, you were just here to have some time to breathe. Now that you think about it, it's pretty cruel the place you can take deep breaths is a bathroom. Of all places.

"Hmm...Alright!" He laughed. "Meet me on the field."

You heard his footsteps echoing off the walls. Thank fuck. He really gave that up quite quickly, at least you hoped he did. You seriously did not some guy on your heels trying to figure out what your deal was. You sighed in exhaustion. What a morning. He should have stayed asleep, though.

You walked out of the stall and stopped in front of the mirror. You looked pretty shitty, lips chapped and eyes heavy-set.

Nah, fuck that. If you had eyeliner in your proximity, you'd be considered the universe's gift to earth on social media.

With that new sentiment, you walked to the practice field, where Bachira was waiting criss-cross-applesauce in the center. Obviously. He had a ball in his lap that rolled off when he jumped up as soon as he saw you walk through the doors.

He kicked the ball to your feet. You watched it slowly roll to a stop in front of you, "What?" He was staring at you impatiently, you felt almost squeamish under his unwavering gaze. What did he want from you?

"Do the trick!" Oh, right. Right. Fuck.

You sighed while the déjà vu set in, "Bachira...I don't have one, I just wanted you to wake up."

He frowned briefly, until a slightly mischievous smirk swiped across his face, "Do one or tell me why you always act so weird." He offered. More so, demanded.

Well, this was quite the predicament. "Look, I don't-"

"You fuckers thought you could just cut the weight room short and leave!??" Raichi's sickly sweet voice rang throughout the field as the doors slammed open and the team, sweaty and already tired, flooded in.

As much as you didn't want to hear Raichi's incessant yelling, you let out a sigh for what seemed like the tenth time that day. Iemon threw practice pennies in your faces before Bachira could try to protest. The pungent smell of B.O. stung your nostrils, but you threw the jersey on nonetheless.

"Sorry, muscle-building isn't really my strong suit, anyway." You tried to reason while you unloaded balls onto the racks.

"It fucking should be," Raichi replied, "You have no muscle anywhere on you."

You rolled your eyes. That was not true. For obvious reasons, of course, you didn't have the muscle density of a guy, but you sure as hell were not weak. But, it's not like you had room to explain that to him. Instead, you have to hit him with a classic, "Die."

He laughed, "Shitty response, runt. Get better."

You nodded your head with pursed lips, "That's fair."

"Okay! Everyone get into your positions!" Iemon shouted and, hence, practice commenced.

You were strolling back through the hallways. Shocker, really. All the guys were eating dinner, so you took that opportunity to shower. You were currently on your way back to the Team Z room, newly fresh.

"Chigiri?" You questioned. You didn't expect anyone to be in the room at all. Seeing him there on the ground made your heart rate peak momentarily.

He looked over his shoulder to see you standing in the doorway, "Yeah?"

You walked over next to him to see his hands massaging his right knee, "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be at dinner?"

"Just take care of my knee. Shouldn't you be at dinner?"

You exhaled, he was right and you were pretty hungry. Not the point, though, "I'm good. Do you want help? One of my teammates used to have an old knee injury."

He looked back down and you sat down next to him, "It's alright, I got it. Thanks, though."

"Yeah." You paused for a moment and hoped you wouldn't be intruding on something he didn't want to talk about, "How'd it happen?"

He was silent for a few seconds, which only helped in multiplying the nervous sweat that broke out on your neck, "I was running too carelessly in a match back in middle school. Tore my ACL." He explained with a sigh.

You observed him from the corner of your eye, he looked something akin to disappointed, "Really? That's quite impressive, I'd say." He whipped his head to look at you, eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment. "Sorry, I mean, it's impressive to have an injury like that and recover the way you did. Still run the way you do."

His face relaxed and he nodded slightly, "I guess so. I really wanted to quit football for a while because of it, actually. I think I found reason here to play again."

A smile curved onto your lips. That's why you were here, right? Help them out. Having Chigiri open up to you felt like a double-edged sword, though. It's as if all the friends you'd made here were just friends with the 'Kazuma Kenji' they believed you to be. Would they ever get to know you?

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the end got weirdly serious which is quite unusual but plot progression ig

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