Chapter Text
10th June // 8:11pm // Isagi [THREE DAYS BEFORE THE LAKE INCIDENT]
“Do I really have to go to this stupid party?” Isagi complained into the phone.
“Uh, obviously,” Chigiri snapped back through the speaker. “Rensuke and I are determined to find you a hook up.”
“I don’t need a hook up,” Isagi grumbled as he wedged the phone between his cheek and shoulder, freeing both of his hands so he could attempt to tame his mess of dark hair. It didn’t help – if anything, the more he tried the worse it looked.
“We beg to differ,” Chigiri said, “You’ve been so grumpy lately. You need to get laid. Like, yesterday.”
“Chigiri,” Isagi sighed, annoyance creeping into his tone, “You know you can be a nosy bastard, right?”
He could practically hear his friend’s grin through the phone. “But you love me anyways.”
“Debatable.”
“Ouch,” Chigiri laughed, entirely unbothered, “Anyway – be there by ten. Or else I’m knocking on your door and dragging you out by the ear.”
Isagi grimaced at his reflection.
He looked tired. More tired than he wanted anyone to notice.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “I get it. I’ll be there.”
“Wear something cute.”
“I’m going to hang up now.”
“Something cute, Isagi!”
Isagi ended the call with a sigh before Chigiri could continue.
He stared at his reflection; the fingers of one hand still caught uselessly in his hair.
A party.
Music.
People.
All the things he didn’t have the energy for right now…
His phone buzzed again with a message from Chigiri.
- Chigiri: Don’t you dare bail.
Isagi huffed out a laugh despite himself.
Then another message came through.
- Chigiri: Also Kaiser might be there. Just a heads up.
Isagi went still as his eyes read over the words, his thumb hovering over the screen.
The room suddenly felt warmer.
“Great…” he muttered to himself.
***
10th June // 10:09pm // Isagi
Isagi walked along the sidewalk with one hand buried in the pocket of his jeans, and the other scrolling through a string of messages from Bachira.
- Bachira: Sorry, I’m not feeling up to it tonight!
- Bachira: I know what you’re thinking… “How will I survive a party without my best friend in the entire world?!”
- Bachira: If it gets too much, just come home early and we can watch a movie!
- Bachira: But you’ll have to stay at least five feet away from me so you don’t get sick too.
Isagi snorted softly as he read the words.
He typed back casually.
- Isagi: You’re so dramatic.
A second later, he added:
- Isagi: But fine. If the party sucks, I’m blaming you and coming home.
The reply was almost instantaneous.
- Bachira: YAYYY MOVIE NIGHT CONTINGENCY PLAN!
- Bachira: Also drink water. And don’t let Chigiri bully you into kissing strangers.
Isagi rolled his eyes.
- Isagi: That’s oddly specific.
- Bachira: I know him.
Isagi laughed under his breath, but his smile faded just slightly as he stared down at the messages.
Bachira had a way of always making him feel better – of making things feel easier. Even when he wasn’t physically present.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard again.
He typed out a message.
- Isagi: Maybe I’ll just come back now.
He stared at it for a moment.
Chigiri’s warning floated through his mind: “Be there by ten or else I’m knocking on your door and dragging you out by the ear.”
He deleted the words and pocketed his phone.
“Stupid party,” he muttered to himself.
The faint hum of bass pulsing under his feet was the first giveaway that he was close to the party house.
The second was the guy passed out halfway in the bushed near the front path, one arm dangling dramatically over the curb like he’d lost a fight with gravity and accepted defeat.
Isagi stopped.
Stared.
Then sighed again. “Great…”
He stepped around the man carefully, nose wrinkling at the sharp smell of alcohol that was already clinging to the air. The house ahead of him practically vibrated with noise – music thudding through the walls, laughter spilling out through the open windows, coloured lights flashing in uneven bursts behind the curtains.
Every instinct he had told him to turn around.
To go home.
Text Bachira.
Claim emotional damages.
Instead, he forced himself up the front steps.
The front door was already half-open, warm air and noise leaking through the gap like the house itself was exhaling. Isagi hesitated in the doorway, one hand on the frame. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he pushed inside.
Sound crashed over him immediately.
Music.
Voices.
Laughter.
Someone shouted something incomprehensible from the kitchen.
Bottles clinked together.
People milled in every square inch of the house, their bodies pressing together as they moved through the cramped space. He clocked familiar faces – Reo, Nagi, Hiori, Kurona. Shidou stood in the center of a crowd that cheered as he sculled a can of beer.
Isagi’s shoulders tensed on instinct, eyes sweeping the room with the same automatic precision he used on the field. He mentally logged exits, crowd density and familiar faces.
He considered leaving.
It would only be two small steps backwards.
But Chigiri spotted him first. “Isagi!”
Chigiri appeared from the crowd with Kunigami in two, looking far too pleased with himself. “You came!” he beamed.
“Against my better judgement,” Isagi mumbled, his eyes skittering around the room again.
Kunigami clapped him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him sideways. “That’s the spirit!”
“No, the spirit would have been staying home.”
Chigiri ignored him completely and grabbed his wrist. “C’mon – drink first, complain later.”
Isagi let himself be dragged in, already searching the rooms he passed despite himself.
It wasn’t like he was looking for anyone specific.
Right?
No, definitely not.
Even as he thought it, though, Isagi couldn’t ignore the burning prickle that started to crawl down the back of his neck – that sharp, instinctive awareness of being watched before he found the culprit.
His gaze moved, scanning…
Chigiri shoved a cold glass bottle into his hand and snapped him out of his thoughts. Isagi blinked down at it. Condensation slicked the glass, wetting his fingers.
“Drink,” Chigiri prodded, giving him an encouraging wave, “It’ll make you less tragic.”
Isagi gaped at his friend. “I-I’m not tragic!”
Chigiri fixed him with a no-nonsense stare. “You stopped in the doorway like you would rather be giving a eulogy at your own funeral.”
Kunigami snorted into his drink.
Isagi shot them both a flat look. “I hate you. Both of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Chigiri grinned. Then, he leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Also, stop looking like you’re about to bolt. You’re been here for like thirty seconds.”
“I’m not going to bolt.”
“You checked the exits twice.”
“That’s just situational awareness.”
“That’s social anxiety disguised as the Heart of Blue Lock.”
Isagi opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then looked down at the bottle in his hands.
“Fine,” he grumbled and lifted the glass to his lips, grimacing at the bitter, fizzy alcohol flooded his mouth. He swallowed the drink, earning a pleased clap on the shoulder from Kunigami.
“There we go.”
“Peer pressure is ugly,” Isagi grumbled.
“Effective, though,” Chigiri sang.
Isagi rolled his eyes, but some of the tension in his shoulders loosened despite himself. A small smile tugged at his lips.
But still…
He couldn’t quite shake that prickle of heat on the back of his neck. If anything, the feeling had sharpened.
Slowly, against his better judgement, Isagi let his gaze drift past Chigiri’s shoulder.
Across the crowded room.
Past the flash of lights, the press of bodies and the blur of movement.
And there he was.
Kaiser stood at the far wall, half-lit in shifting blue and violet, drink hanging loose in one hand. His eyes were already on Isagi.
Like he had been waiting for Isagi to finally look back.
His mouth curved faintly.
Isagi tightened his grip on his bottle.
Chigiri turned, following Isagi’s stare. When he finally spotted Kaiser, he made a delighted noise under his breath.
“Oh?” he teased, grinning at Isagi, “Unfinished business between the two old rivals?”
“Shut up,” Isagi muttered, looking away too fast. But the heat on the back of his neck didn’t fade. Neither did the feeling that Kaiser was still smiling.
Isagi frowned, his attention snapping back. “What do you mean?”
Kunigami let out a low huff and folded his arms across his chest, his gaze flicking over Isagi’s shoulder toward Kaiser. For once, the easy humour had slipped from his face.
“Nothing concrete,” he said after a moment. “I just get bad vibes.”
Chigiri rolled his eyes lightly. “You get bad vibes from anyone who looks at Isagi for longer than three seconds.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is absolutely true.”
Kunigami ignored him, his stare still fixed across the room.
Isagi followed it despite himself.
Kaiser hadn’t moved. He still leaned on the wall, eyes watching in a way that anyone could have dismissed as casual interest.
But something about the way he looked at Isagi made his stomach tighten.
He looked away first.
Again…
“Seriously,” Kunigami said, quieter now. “He looks at you like he’s already decided something.”
Isagi’s fingers tightened around the bottle. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Maybe.” Kunigami finally looked back at him, expression unreadable in a way that made Isagi more uncomfortable than the warning itself. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chigiri clicked his tongue and looped an arm through Kunigami’s. “Ignore him. He’s in protective boyfriend-friend mode.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Isagi huffed out a laugh, but it came out thinner than he meant it to. “Well, you can stop worrying. Kaiser and I are rivals, sure, but that’s all.”
Chigiri hummed, dragging the sound out like he was giving the matter serious academic consideration. “If you say so.” His eyes flicked over Isagi’s face, then toward Kaiser, then back again. “But in my humble opinion, the sexual tension between you two is undeniable.”
Heat flared across Isagi’s cheeks so fast it was humiliating.
“T-that’s not true!”
Kunigami laughed under his breath and reached over, pinching Isagi’s cheek before he could dodge.
“Then explain the blush.”
Isagi swatted his hand away. “It’s hot in here!”
“Sure,” Chigiri said, entirely unconvinced.
Kunigami’s grin widened. “Didn’t realise you had a taste for bad boys.”
“I don’t!”
Isagi’s eyes flicked back to the spot where Kaiser had been despite himself.
But he was gone.
The wall he’d been leaning against was empty now, the shifting party lights washing over the space like he’d never been there at all.
Isagi frowned.
The prickle at the back of his neck – the strange, burning awareness of being watched – hadn’t left. If anything, it had sharpened. Like Kaiser disappearing from view hadn’t ended the game. It had only made Isagi realise he didn’t know where he was anymore.
Chigiri followed his gaze and hummed. “Looking for someone?”
“No,” Isagi said too quickly.
Kunigami raised a brow.
Isagi took another drink just to avoid answering.
The music pulsed louder around them, bodies shifting through the room in a blur of colour and heat, but Isagi’s attention kept snagging on every flash of blond near the edges of the crowd.
None of them were him.