Chapter 16: A Broken Wing, Not a Flightless Bird
Kiyoshi gently flattened his palms together, slim fingers leaning thoughtfully on his lips. He was about to heave when a sharp kick on the leg cut his breath short and he leaped a whole foot. He hissed at the person who interrupted his attempt at resting, the one he least wanted to see right now, and spat an insult.
The walking annoyance was staring back with a stoic expression and urged him to spit what he just learned. Kiyoshi was so done with social interaction for the day. His bones were heavy, sore muscles adding to the dull weight like rice sacks. With a weary sigh, he straightened his shoulders. "I'm tired. I'm going home."
"No, tell me," Kensou ordered and Kiyoshi frowned. He couldn't shake the worrisome thought the tyrannical edge was fading like an aging painting. It happened after the student council president spoke about this asshole's past in response to his impartial answer about their relationship.
Kiyoshi begrudgingly acknowledged that after that, to correct other possible erroneous impressions, the people around him were in his mind often. This mindful awareness was dangerous: Kiyoshi's initial conviction of not getting close to anyone was slipping; if he didn't steady, he would topple, crash, and faint. Then the red oni would take control, he who didn't care about Kiyoshi's goal but its own carnal desires.
"Who do you think gave you the chance to talk to the Tatsumaki twins? Ungrateful bastard." Kensou clutched him by the collar, yet Kiyoshi didn't react. Their faces weren't near, and their height difference left him staring blankly at the guy's yellowish neck. "Say something," Kensou commanded.
Kiyoshi didn't have the energy to speak. And what would Kensou do, beat him?
Instead, he was freed. Kiyoshi gasped a little, taken by surprise to hold all of his dead weight.
"You are not going until you tell me what you found out," Kensou threatened with a steely tone and hot and pointy feeling pinched Kiyoshi. He gritted his teeth and glowered with half-opened eyes.
"I'm fucking tired. Leave me alone."
"Then hurry up. You are wasting time." The insistent reply caused the hot feeling to claw at Kiyoshi's chest.
"Fuck you," he spoke slow, emphasizing each word.
Kensou seemed to notice the honest sentiment behind Kiyoshi's words, blood rushing to his head. He grabbed Kiyoshi by the collar and plunged him to the ground, burying his arm on Kiyoshi's Adam's apple.
Kiyoshi struggled, slapping Kensou's humorless expression to nudge him off. His saliva didn't roll down his sore throat when he swallowed involuntarily, and the air was cut off as well. Whining and groaning in agony, he flailed his legs to improve his desperate attempt at freedom.
"SPEAK!" Kensou roared. The familiar fear slipped into Kiyoshi's veins like a cold slime, dirtying his short-lived sense of safety.
"You are just. . ." Kiyoshi groaned hoarsely, "a loser. You don't. . . care! Torturing us for your sick pleasure. . . g__uh . . .so you feel less empty!" Empty marron eyes shifted and narrowed, analyzing Kiyoshi's words. The murky waters finally created a wave--at the specific mention of the person closest to him.
"The President. . . told me. . . Everything."
Kensou bared his teeth, stabbing his arm deeper and Kiyoshi gagged. Soon, black spots bubbled on his vision and his head felt light. Kensou was as unmoving as a boulder. Kiyoshi's arms were giving out.
When he contemplated his unjust death, Kensou sprung away. Kiyoshi took the deepest breath and many more before falling into a desperate coughing fit. After steadying his breath, he pushed himself up, knowing there was a practical reason Kensou showed mercy.
"You are not better than me," Kensou promptly declared, looking down on Kiyoshi who adjusted his glasses. "Just because you want to play soccer, faithfully being Kageyama's pawn. . . It doesn't make you any better."
Kiyoshi breathed out, touching his dull throat. "I wouldn't compare myself with someone for our aims. I know I'm not even better than you as a person."
There was a smirk on Kensou's voice. "Who knows if you can go further even if you enter the team."
"I won't know until I try," Kiyoshi simply replied. His vision was progressively improving but his throat still burned. As his head cleared, he intuitively understood he should be furious at Kensou for what he just did. Kiyoshi was conditioned to withstand many kinds of abuse, but the new insight about the person in front of him threw their unequal dynamic off.
In other words, Kiyoshi properly acknowledged this oppressive treatment was unfair.
The air was as frail as crystal. They observed each other, for the one who would take the first step. Kiyoshi patiently wanted a reason to lash out, fuel for his rage.
Kensou grinned maliciously and took the initiative, striding to the back of the clubroom and returning with a soccer ball a few minutes later. "This will level our abilities a little. Although the result will be the same," he arrogantly added. Kiyoshi smoothly caught the soccer ball with his chest as Kensou proposed a game. "Try scoring a goal against me, and you can keep the information. Lose, and it's mine."
"But I'm tired," Kiyoshi protested weakly, sinking his shoulders for emphasis.
"I haven't played soccer in a year," Kensou shrugged off. "You have been working out." Kiyoshi's eyes widened slightly, surprised he noticed. The terms seemed as fair as they could be, and soccer didn't lie. Kiyoshi took off his glasses and accepted.
That's where the trap laid.
⚽️🐰⚽️
When Kiyoshi was an inch from dribbling past Kensou and certain victory seemed to brush against his fingertips, the white goalpost shifted to a pale orange before his vision fell into blackness. Kiyoshi pushed himself off solid ground and searched for the ball, finding Kensou's polished loafer on top, hungrily claiming ownership.
Passing the ball felt like a taunt, mocking Kiyoshi to prove he rightfully deserved to play soccer. Kensou laughed sarcastically. "Who's the loser now?"
The red oni roared, rattling on its old chains.
The acute pain didn't compare to the following humiliation, Kensou picking at Kiyoshi's weak points and snatching the ball in one swift motion. The red oni spasmed violently, unwilling to accept the loss. The vicious desire to break and ruthlessly destroy filled Kiyoshi's mind, narrowing his vision. But one critical look at Kensou's arrogant grin pushed it all down. He didn't want to rely on the red oni to win, or for anything else. Instead, he put his brain to work.
"I can't dribble past him when he's not even a midfielder," Kiyoshi whispered solemnly to himself. For the time being, he decided to carefully observe Kensou with each attempt.
But Kensou had other plans, dropping his teasing for unacceptable plays.
The bearable pain finally won over the embarrassment. Kiyoshi clutched his aching stomach after Kensou withdrew his knee. He covered his mouth, stomach acid about to launch off. How could he think he could properly beat this guy? Violence was part of Teikoku's soccer, and while Kiyoshi's was no less fierce, the unexpected forward was deadly and accurate like an eagle.
"For someone called an oni in the soccer world, I thought you would be a challenge," Kensou mocked.
"Not fair," Kiyoshi's childish complaint wavered. "You have been playing in a better team."
Kensou shrugged nonchalantly, looming over with lukewarm eyes. "Serves you right. Someone like you can't understand what really happened." A loud pop pierced the quiet air. Kiyoshi covered his face before the ball knocked on his head.
'How could I think I could beat Teikoku's former captain?' Kiyoshi mourned, knees on the ground. How could he have forgotten The King's crushing power? He must have seen him during last year's tryouts, but he didn't even bother learning the name! The meaningless fight with Keima knocked him hard, and he kept soccer to himself, ignoring any news about Teikoku's soccer team. Maybe he had heard The King's name when he was a sixth-grader but he couldn't remember; his memory was hazy.
The President willingly explained Kensou abandoned Teikoku's soccer team in his second year because he couldn't continue obeying the Coach. He did as he pleased and was refused to depend on the Coach's dirty tactics to win. The regional finals with Mikage had always been rigged but the immature captain slipped here and there in the Nationals, causing Teikoku's 'Absolute Victory' motto to lose ground. The Coach pulled some strings, tearing the soccer team between those in his side and Kensou's. After a narrow victory the following year, a fistfight between the two factions broke out, causing some members to be hospitalized. Kensou renounced the next day and transferred out for the following year.
"He believed he could go against the system," the President had told Kiyoshi. "He must be envious you keep chasing soccer after falling so many times." His lips twisted into a sneer, "served him well."
Kiyoshi struggled to stand up. "I underestimated you," he apologized. "I can't win."
Kensou puffed his chest. "Then this match--"
"I'm not forfeiting," Kiyoshi clarified. "I will keep playing until I faint."
The eagle's eyes narrowed, spite visibly thickening. "Whatever. The tiger is more entertaining to play with."
A Broken Wing, Not a Flightless Bird | End