Heroes Without Capes

Natural

Nothing could stop him now.

Kimishita ran faster. His legs flew over the grass, feeling the ball against his feet with every step. The cheers of the crowd, the shouts of his teammates faded against the echo of his footsteps. The wind tugged at his hair, fresh with the taste of freedom and adrenaline.

The goal was right in front of him. Nobody could get in his way. He could see the goalkeeper move in slow motion, noticed every hole in his defense.

He took aim and shot.

The ball flew through the air, lightning-fast and unstoppable. All the world fell silent as it hit the net and fell to the ground.

Then the cheers broke out. His entire team started shouting and laughing at the same time, running up to him to give him high fives and tackle him with hugs. They were shouting things he didn't understand, but he could hear the joy in their voices, the pride.

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind. Kimishita found himself spun around and lifted up in the air, a proud figure smiling up at him. His face was blurry, unrecognizable, but Kimishita smiled back, leaning into him as the figure reached up and pulled him into an affectionate kiss.

This dream again, huh. Kimishita had seen it before, many times. It had been awhile since the last time, but he still remembered every detail as if it had been burned into his brain. The wind, the voices, the goal. The cheers of his teammates. The blurry, faceless figure that lifted him up and kissed him. He'd always thought it was Mizuki, but this time the figure seemed different. Taller, stronger. And his hair...

Red?

Kimishita jolted upright. For a second his eyes saw nothing but darkness. He had no memory where he was, how he had ended up here.

Little by little his eyes got used to the dark. He was in his room, in his bed, wearing his pajamas. The alarm clock on the nightstand showed two in the morning.

Wait, his room? Why was he here? He had no recollection of coming here at all. The last thing he remembered was playing soccer with Kiichi, letting him drag him to that ramen shop, eating together and talking... and...?

No matter how hard he tried, he kept drawing a blank. There was nothing he remembered beyond that point.

It couldn't be...

Had he fallen asleep? At a restaurant? In public?

No, no, no way. If he had, then why was he here, in his room, neatly tucked under the covers and dressed for sleep? He must have been at least half awake on the way home, just awake enough to drag himself to bed and get changed, even if he couldn't remember a thing. Unless...

The memory of waking up at the store crossed his mind, with Kiichi's jacket draped over his shoulders and receipts lying on the desk. Had Kiichi helped him out again? Had he carried him all the way home, somehow managed to change him out of his sweat-drenched clothes and tucked him in, all while he'd been fast asleep?

Kimishita ran a hand across his face. It was burning hot, so hot that he felt like it was glowing in the dark. This idiot... he'd gone completely overboard. Just putting him down on the couch with a blanket would have been enough, but Kiichi just had to act like a worried mother and go the extra mile to make sure he wouldn't catch a cold. And Kimishita didn't know how to handle it all.

He was burning with embarrassment. He was happy. He was grateful. Grateful to have this stupid overgrown brat by his side, who was helping him and supporting him and sticking to him, year after year. Even if they still fought... even if they still couldn't communicate without lapsing into sarcasm and firing insults at each other and getting irrationally angry at the tiniest mistakes or jabs. Kiichi's actions spoke a language that was different from his words, louder and more honest. His gestures said everything his mouth wouldn't.