The Monsters Inside Us

Six

A/N: yes, I know the events happen all out of order and this story is full of plot holes but sephlav is only a man ok? new theme of this fic is "no accuracy, just vibes" ty. 

It dawned on Bachira during the game against Team W.

It had started as a bit of a hunch. There was an oddity to the game. But it wasn't that the other team had been outsmarting and outplaying them them at a level that didn't quite make sense. Even Kuon's betrayal had been irritating, sure, but background noise nonetheless. Compared to what else he was seeing, anyways.

What weighed on Bachira's mind was that while he was watching Isagi, Isagi was watching Chigiri. It was only the second time he did this that Bachira wondered if he'd been the other person missing in their room the other night, but when Chigiri took off with that incredible speed, at Isagi's encouragement, he was sure it was.

And he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

His monster is awakening things in others the way mine did to his, Bachira thought selfishly. He complained this loudly in his head, hoping his own monster would offer him some reassurance, but it did not.

Don't get distracted, was all it had to offer.

Good advice, all things considered.

There was a balance to be found here, between soccer and the monsters that played the game here on the field. Why should he care that other people had monsters inside of them? They were all strikers, were they not? It was hardly uncommon or unexpected, especially here. There was still a game to be played and a goal to chase. If Isagi was awakening others, that was a skill, and something to be impressed by, inspired by, celebrated. Simple as that. That's him, the monster had said. He's yours.

Apparently, jealousy was a pesky little monster all its own, and it was one Bachira was much less comfortable with.

A draw was hardly something to celebrate, Isagi realized, but he couldn't help but feel the same gratitude as everyone else that they were indeed still head above water. One loss, one win, and one draw wasn't ideal, but it didn't count them out. He could find it in himself to celebrate that.

Plus, Blue Lock was exciting. Getting to see everyone else's weapons in action, discovering his own, learning how to combine them and put plays together like jigsaw pieces, it was an entirely different game than he'd ever known. He'd stepped into an entirely different life and with it, an entirely new version of himself had formed.

"Isagi!" Bachira had suddenly popped out right in front of him, as he'd tended to do. Unlike the closeness, strange jokes, and overly affectionate demeanour, Isagi had not quite gotten used to this yet. It always scared the shit out of him. "You're really incredible, you know that?"

"Thanks, Bachira," he said, willing his heart to calm down.

"That's why I have this for you!" The black and yellow haired boy proudly announced, holding a piece of steak up on a fork. Isagi laughed a little before reaching for it, but Bachira pulled his hand back, shaking his head. "Nuh-uh! Open up!"

"No way," Isagi said, reaching again. "I can feed my-"

Self did not form. Instead, the air filled with laughter and his mouth filled with steak and the harsh metal prongs of the fork.

"Thanks," Isagi said, mouth full and all.

"You're welcome!" Bachira grinned widely, not picking up on the sarcasm at all.

Isagi had offered to get everyone drinks because he wanted to be nice, and Bachira had offered to help because he wanted to be selfish. It washed over the both of them as they walked the quiet Blue Lock hallways, as they often were in the evenings, so different than during the bustling days, that the two of them were seldom alone.

Bachira loathed this knowledge, because he was always wishing for more of it, even if they didn't say anything. Even if they didn't look at each other. The sensation of his soul being close to Isagi's put him at this inexplicable ease. Isagi, on the other hand, was always a little anxious about it. He'd stopped worrying, for the most part anyways, that Bachira was going to bring up what had happened in the locker room. Maybe it was all the jump scares that kept him on edge.

Outside of the anxiety, he liked Bachira. He was unlike anyone Isagi had ever met in every way he could imagine, including how little regard he had for how people perceived him. There was a lot both on and off the field that he could learn from him, and he liked that too.

Bachira was clearly in no rush to get back to the room with everyone's drinks, and for whatever reason, Isagi didn't mind. He let the two of them linger, chatting and talking about their games so far rather than completing the task at hand.

"You know, Bachira," Isagi started.

"Hmm?"

At the sound of Isagi saying anything, including and especially his name, Bachira pulled his hands back and looked up at Isagi, giving him his full attention. Isagi met his eye for a half second before he broke it, not able to meet the same level of eye contact. Looking Bachira in the eye was a lot like looking into the sun, Isagi thought.

"You're pretty incredible too," Isagi told him.

"Really?" Bachira asked him, wide eyed. "You think so?"

"Of course I think so, dummy," Isagi said, laughing. He still wasn't looking at him head on, and he'd started making pointless busy work with the sports drink bottles. "I wouldn't have said so if I didn't think so."

"You don't think I'm weird?" Bachira asked. It was a careful question, posed like it was a joke, but slithered into the air with a snakelike quality only Bachira felt.

Isagi laughed again. "I definitely think you're weird."

There was a childlike rage incited at the sound of that phrase. The snake ready to strike. Before it could come to fruition, Isagi stopped messing around with the bottles and looked at Bachira straight on.

"But I like that you're weird," he said with a smile. "It's one of my favourite things about you, actually."

I like that you're weird. How easily that phrase beheaded the snake. It had once aggravated him so much. He wasn't weird, he was different. Special. His mom had told him so, and he'd believed her. But he found he didn't mind it so much anymore. He thought he'd wanted to find someone who didn't find him weird, but as he looked back at it, that wasn't it. He'd wanted someone who saw him as he was and liked what they saw. It's one of my favourite things about you.

How quickly that word had ceased to be an insult.

Why do you worry? The monster asked, almost mockingly.

"If you like me so much," Bachira teased, jabbing a finger in Isagi's direction. "I guess that makes you pretty weird yourself."

"Yeah," Isagi agreed. "I guess so."

"Well, I like you too," Bachira said, lifting his hand, palm towards Isagi. "You weird egoist."

Isagi eyed the hand a little nervously, as if it might jump out at him, but as his eyes darted back and forth between Bachira's hand and face, Bachira just grinned and the hand didn't move. Once he deemed it safe enough, he relaxed and lifted his own hand to complete the high five.

The smacking sound never filled the room. As he had a habit of, Bachira had lured him into a false sense of security. His hand had pulled back so fast, it put his scissors on the field to shame, and before Isagi even realized he'd done so, the side of Bachira's hand came down on the top of his head. Hard.

"Fake high five chop out!" he called out.

"Oh, come on," Isagi groaned, rubbing the spot on his head that had just been struck.

Bachira wasn't mad about the whole weird thing, but he hadn't been trying to lean into the idea either. It didn't matter how nice the moment was or how much the monster assured him there was no reason for it. He was still a little jealous, and it made him feel a little better.