Piercing The Clouds Part 3
"Let's go!" Kiyoshi shot up and blinked away the tears, waving a short goodbye to Keima's mom and following Keima out.
Back to the main road, Kiyoshi asked, "What do you want to show me?"
"You'll see," Keima teased.
". . . Is it," Kiyoshi thought ". . .a new hissatsu?" Keima sighed. Kiyoshi was right. "Is it a shoot, dribble, block?" Kiyoshi jumped, looking into Keima's eyes for another hint.
Keima grinned proudly, bobbling the ball up and down. "It's a shoot."
He looked at Keima in amazement, his eyes bright like stars. "I'm sure it's amazing!"
"Hehe, of course, it is." Keima's shoulders widened with pride. If Kiyoshi didn't know better, he would think Keima missed being admired. Well, Kiyoshi liked his flashy hissatsus, that was all. Not like he would say it out loud.
The two eventually reached the park and settled on one side of the pitch. Kiyoshi gave a quick look to the benches, playground, and the trees. There weren't that many people. Good. No one to worry of getting hurt.
Kiyoshi and Keima warmed up individually, then played a few rounds of short and long passes. Half an hour later, Kiyoshi stood before one of the goals, Keima a few feet apart with the ball under his foot.
"Hit me!" Kiyoshi gave the sign that started the match.
Keima dribbled--so far it seemed his style hadn't changed much--a challenging grin splitting his face.
Kiyoshi's heart started to beat faster. Keima didn't hold back, and he couldn't ask for more. They had faced each other countless times for any reason, learning each other's tricks to the last twitch of a muscle. Even if Kiyoshi was at a physical disadvantage, his grin rivaled Keima as his blood vessels filled with adrenaline.
But before he entered his attack zone, a rail appeared in front of him and the ball took a blue hue.
"Three-hundred-sixty vault."
Before Kiyoshi could react, the realization he was witnessing a hissatsu settling, Keima resumed dribbling behind him.
"You jerk!" Kiyoshi laughed, sprinting to catch up.
Keima snorted with a back glance. "You and I know I can't beat you on a one-on-one."
Kiyoshi chuckled sharply. "Face me seriously!"
He turned. "Is that a challenge?!"
Kiyoshi quicked his pace, dust lifting behind him and the fight for the ball began.
If there was something Keima couldn't match with, was Kiyoshi's body coordination. He could foreshadow his friend's movements, even if they were slightly different from what he remembered, and shift his body accordingly, like a cat falling from a high building.
The fight ended when Kiyoshi kicked the ball with his heel and out of bounds.
"Che."
Kiyoshi chuckled at Keima's reaction and kicked the ball back to him. "Show me the shoot."
Keima caught it with his chest, smoothly letting the ball fall to his foot. "Don't get too surprised." He kicked the ball up and again before it fell. Following shortly, he twisted his body before slamming the ball with his sole.
"Curtana!"
The ball entered the goal with a sharp sound of clashing metal, with strength and speed Kiyoshi rarely witnessed. Kiyoshi's eyes narrowed slightly. His unfinished hissatsu would be able to stop him the moment before he jumped, otherwise, it was his loss.
"Oh!" Kiyoshi perked up, "It's great."
Keima threw his head back. "Do you know about Curtana?" He answered after Kiyoshi shook his head, "It's known as the Sword of Mercy."
"You did your research," Kiyoshi said plainly.
"We learned it in History class."
Of course.
Unexpectedly, Keima passed the ball to him. "Show me yours."
"W-what?" Kiyoshi stammered confusedly. "I-It's not that great. It's incomplete too."
"It doesn't matter," Keima urged.
Ugh, soon his smile will drop.
". . .Okay. Don't be dissappointed." Kiyoshi passed the ball back, explaining as it flew, "it's a block hissatsu."
"Nice. What do I have to do?" Keima stopped before Kiyoshi who moved back a few steps.
"Just dribble towards me."
"Gotcha." Kiyoshi observed Keima's pace intently, legs moving at a nostalgic pace and threw himself to the ground in a straight line.
"Killer Slide!"
Keima fell to the ground with a thud. For an instant, the thought he had been hurt crossed Kiyoshi's mind. Before he knew it, he was beside the fallen boy. "Are you okay? Sorry for not telling about the fall." He extended a hand which Keima took gratefully.
"It's cool. I was taken off guard." He was fighting back a grunt, but his smile sent a reassuring wave of relief on Kiyoshi. "Hey, isn't that technique Teikoku's? It's kind of different though."
Kiyoshi nodded. "They don't teach it to anyone but I managed to record it and practiced on my own."
"That's awesome!" Keima lit up with excitement like Hachi-dan.
"Uhn, but it's not complete. It's not a big deal, Keima."
"Of course it is a big deal!" Keima slapped Kiyoshi's shoulders. "You are learning it on your own, right? That's amazing! You know hissatsus aren't learned in a day."
"Y-yeah but--"
"It's awesome!"
"O-okay." Kiyoshi looked away, his face heating up. It did take him a few weeks to get somewhere. But then it's been a year he has been learning it. Self-studying can only get you so far.
They went on for a few hours, and before long, the sky was tinted orange.
The two fell to the ground panting heavily. Keima was the first to regain his breath, retorting as he checked his phone, "Crap, I should have been home two hours ago."
Kiyoshi tried to recall what he said to Mother with the least effort, giving up a second later. Well, it was pretty late already. He was going to get yelled at one way or another. His clothes were smeared with dirt after all.
"Then let's call it a day," Kiyoshi said standing up before holding out his hand.
"Yeah, I'm pretty tired." Keima dusted off his butt, walking off the park, ball in hand.
"Wait, I'm going to drink some water." Kiyoshi jogged to the water fountain and satiated his thirst. It seemed Keima was just as thirsty, taking a few minutes to jug down the water before they were on the sidewalk to their respective houses.
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Keima asked nonchalantly.
"Eh? Don't mind me." Dinner would be ready soon, and his mother didn't like to waste food.
"Are you sure? You don't look like you want to go home yet."
Kiyoshi stopped. He held his breath and asked quietly, eyes set on the ground, "Do I? Do I really look like I don't want to go home?"
"Yeah," Keima answered plainly. "You can call your mom from my house."
Kiyoshi shook his head, the energy he had shown on the field was gone. Reality always waited at the end of the dream. "I have a cell phone." He took the device from his pocket and messaged his mother that Keima invited him over to dinner. A pang of sadness hit his chest imagining his mother eating alone.
"So. . ." Keima trailed, "What have you been doing?"
He was startled at the question. Kiyoshi scratched his neck as he built an answer. "I entered in Technology club after failing the tryouts. Sometimes, I go to observe the soccer team's practice. In class. . ." Kiyoshi glanced at Keima who had gone quiet.
"In class?" Keima asked without a hint of wanting to talk over. He was properly listening to him. Again, a feeling of defeat crept to his heart, causing to be unexplainably bitter.
". . . It's not that fun, I guess." He wasn't sure if Keima would judge him for willingly separating himself from his class. It wasn't like back then, he had taken precautions to extinguish every flame of bullying against him.
"Ah!" Kiyoshi perked up, remembering a topic they had in common back then, "I started playing MMORPGs too."
He found meaning in Keima's eyes. "I have played once or twice, a few friends are into that."
"It's fun, in particular, the strategies. I like the graphics and the maps but what I like best is the different kinds of soldiers you can train and the fight itself."
"Aw." Keima sighed. "I don't have a laptop so I can't play with you. It sounds super fun when you put it that way."
"We can play in the library," Kiyoshi offered bashfully.
Keima accepted, surprised the public library allowed the public to use the computers freely.
Kiyoshi announced with pride he had installed the software in one of them.
"Yoshii has gone to the dark side," Keima teased, poking him with his elbow and the two joined in laughter.