The Monsters Inside Us

Seven

Much to Bachira's annoyance, the monster still wasn't offering much in terms of how to cope with his jealousy, which was lingering in his chest with an unfamiliar ache. He'd never felt much jealousy before. He'd never had anything that could make his feel jealous. He'd never had anything to lose.

He'd sooner die than lose Isagi.

And to lose him this soon would be especially heart wrenching. After all, he'd just found him. How cruel that would be indeed.

What the monster did say was he's yours, and you're his too.

But, Bachira started to protest, before the monster cut in with, Prove it to him.

That advice stuck with Bachira. There was no context to it, no further instructions. Just something he knew for certain that he needed to do somehow at some point and it would settle this awful thing in his chest. That was fine, Bachira eventually decided. I can do that. I'll know when the time is right.

Or rather, the monster will tell me.

He'd all but forgot about it when the situation presented itself. He was aware of the growing tenseness during the game against Team V, and he'd felt it himself, to some degree, but he knew he didn't feel it the same way as everyone else did. After all, how could he? He hadn't come to Blue Lock hoping to be the best. He'd accepted the invitation for the same reason he did anything else. Because he thought it would be fun.

Or, more quietly, because he thought he'd find this special person here.

And he had. Isagi had quickly become the reason he'd come, and he was now his main motivation for staying. Everyone else was so hell bent on winning, advancing, becoming the best, and Bachira was too, but not for himself or his own ego or the other reasons constantly being forced down their throats. He wanted to win and advance and better himself because that would be the best way to stay with Isagi.

Because, really, if they were to lose and get kicked out, they all went back to playing mediocre or casual soccer. Or most of them would. Bachira, on the other hand, knew he'd go back to playing lonely soccer. He was different than everyone else. Weird. It had never mattered how skilled he was, how good he was. He was strange, and people tolerated him at best. Nobody had ever liked him because of or in spite of it. Until now.

Isagi was different. Isagi had options. Isagi was good, good enough, good enough to be here and keep his head above water. But he didn't have to be good good. He was likeable. That made all the difference. Bachira knew Isagi was special, but so did everyone else, to some degree. A lesser degree, Bachira was sure, but awareness was awareness. The entire team had been so quick to follow him once he'd ranked number one after that one game. Bachira had been insanely happy for him, but it's not like he could ignore the sadness he felt for himself in knowing that they wouldn't have so readily done so had he found himself in that spot instead.

So, when Team V had three goals to their zero, Bachira felt the tension. He felt the sting of we might lose, only he saw it as if we lose, we all have to leave, and I might not get to play with Isagi anymore.

A horrifying thought indeed.

Everyone else was losing hope fast. Bachira was looking around, trying to gauge the situation, which wasn't looking good. He thought they could still come back from this. He thought they could come back from anything. But it didn't look like anyone else did. Even Isagi looked frustrated in the way that told Bachira that he might be losing hope.

Unacceptable.

Prove it to him, he then heard, clear as day. Now.

"Okay," Bachira whispered back, surrendering as much of himself as the monster wanted to take to make this happen. He was very diligent when it came to the monster.