𝗡𝗢 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗣𝗘 | ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ʙʟᴜᴇʟᴏᴄᴋ × ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

xx (way too dizzy)

ִ ࣪𖤐_________________________ִ ࣪𖤐

what? did you seriously think this was going to continue being happy?

oh. and i wonder why [name] has been getting sick so easily lately... i wonder... :)

You wasted no time returning to the room, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Thankfully, no one was there yet. With shaky hands, you searched frantically for your phone, which you had left behind before going to the field. Your vision blurred slightly as you turned on the device, holding your breath.

No notifications. Your father still haven't  said anything yet.

Your shoulders slumped, the breath you were holding escaping your lungs in a shaky exhale. It seemed like he hadn't found out about your pathetic loss... yet. But how much longer until someone told him? The fear of his reaction gnawed at your insides, making the room spin even more. You could only hope that this Blue Lock project lasted long enough for him to calm down. Because when he found out, he was going to be furious.

Footsteps from outside signaled the arrival of your team, and you fought back the tears threatening to spill. You couldn't let them see you break down, not like this.

The door slid open automatically. Only Isagi was there, but it looked like the other ones weren't going to take long before arriving. After all, the next selection was starting, and everyone had to get their belongings back before moving onto the next wing.

"[l/n]–"

You brushed past him, phone clutched tightly in your hand, lips sealed shut. Your head felt like it was full of cotton, and each step was an effort to stay upright.

"Hey, wait–!" Your wrist was grabbed, forcing you to stop. "What happened? Is this because of our loss? Don't lose your cool over that, they were the top five players for a reason. And it's not like you didn't put up a fight... in fact, you might even have exceeded Rin in his playing."

"As if I fucking care about that," you snapped, yanking your hand away. The room tilted slightly, but you ignored it. "Did I even score a goal?"

"I mea—"

"No, right? Those efforts didn't matter." You turned to face him, your vision swimming. "Did you score a goal? No, right? Yours didn't either. So keep your words to yourself, because you're a nobody, and I'm not pathetic enough to get comforted by a useless fucker like you."

"E-eh?" Your words struck heavily to him, his surprised reaction showing how your unexpected commentary caught him aback. He hadn't seen you act like that since way back in the first selection, and memories of your forgotten rudeness and coldness flashed through his mind.

"Shut up, and just let me walk past you already," you muttered, slipping between his shoulder and the frame of the door. "If only you were as good at blocking the ball as you are at blocking the way, tch."

He probably tried to say something else, but you couldn't hear him. It was all unintelligible noise to your ears. Your head was spinning, and your ears were ringing too much to hear him correctly.

Your head was dizzy, and his concern was the last of your worries.

You ran to the bathroom, each step heavier than the last. Your stomach churned violently as you stumbled into the bathroom, the cold tiles under your feet barely registering. You barely made it to the sink before the nausea overwhelmed you, and you vomited, the acidic taste burning your throat.

You gripped the edge of the sink, trying to steady yourself, but the room continued to spin. Your vision blurred, dark spots dancing in front of your eyes. The last thing you felt was your knees hitting the hard floor as your strength gave out completely. The world faded to black as you lost consciousness, the fear of what awaited you when you woke up lingering in the back of your drowsy mind.

ִ ࣪𖤐_________________________ִ ࣪𖤐