Unsui very clearly remembers the last time he'd cried, three years ago on the steps of the park, Agon at his back. It had been because of Agon then, too- his talent, his brilliance, everything he had that Unsui didn't. It wasn't the first time he'd resent his brother for looking exactly like him (it's not Agon's fault the school had them confused, and it's not his fault they wanted him) but he'd told himself then that it would be the last.
He lied.
Football wasn't Agon's sport- he'd only joined the Shinryuuji Naga to screw over Hiruma and destroy Kurita's chance. In the long run, that didn't matter to Unsui. Having the chance to play on the best team in Kantou, alongside his genius little brother- that was enough for him. Agon had even said when Unsui started football, that it was a game for masochists. And if in the end, the bruises on his face, the nosebleeds, the scrapes and ice wraps and bandages set him apart from the brother who never needed and never suffered from any of that, then maybe Unsui's a masochist because he keeps going back for more.
And... for what? So his brother could not just effortlessly pass the audition to, but be scouted for the Japan team?
It's not as though Unsui had expected anything different.
He'd picked up a flier, stared at it, read it over and over, engraved the date of the tryout in his mind and Agon had already made the team. He was at the gym that day, so he didn't see Unsui sitting in his room an hour before the auditions started, with his cleats and shoulder pads and gloves on, jersey wrinkling in his hand while the clock ticked on and he never stood up. Agon hadn't talked to him at all that day- no Unko-chan, hurry the fuck up, or Unko-chan, what's for breakfast and he didn't know, then, why.
Unsui's halfway through a bench-press when the words Agon-kun, we came to see you! completely shatter his concentration. He sees Yamabushi and Ikkyu's heads whip around, jaws dropping. "No way," Ikkyu whispers, "three of them."
Yamabushi, who had been spotting him, quickly helps Unsui return the barbell to its rack before joining Ikkyu.
Agon drops from the pull-up bar and stretches his arms to the side, dragon tattoo on his back peeking over the edges of his black wifebeater, muscles moving and rippling like a well-oiled machine under his skin. "Hey, thanks," he says, flashing the women a wide smile that wouldn't have fooled Unsui for even a split second.
"We brought you what you asked for," a tall, leggy blonde replies, handing over a plastic bag. Agon reaches inside, fishes out a bottle of Pocari from about six more and easily twists its top off, chugging down half the bottle before he inhales deeply and recaps it. "Ne, Agon-kun," the woman continues, and Unsui finally sits up, a little lightheaded from his workout but with no desire to see Agon lose his temper here. She grabs his arm (mistake number one), tugs lightly (mistake number two) and voice in a cutesy whine (mistake number three), drawls, "Weren't you coming out with us? That's why we brought you these."
Unsui's brows furrow, and he lays back down onto the bench, puts his hands on the bar as Agon's voice echoes through the gym. "Aah? Did you fucking hear me say I'd go out with you?"
After they leave, Unsui finishes his set and Agon's back to pull-ups, two ten-kilo weights clamped between his calves. He looks over, eyes flashing behind his Oakleys and snaps, "Hey, Unko-chan, get those useless drinks out of here. I wanted fucking soda."
Unsui passes two bottles to Yamabushi, another two to Ikkyu and sets the last two on the floor beside where Agon was ignoring them all, taking his brother's open half-bottle and finishing it off.
"I already said- I didn't want- any of those disgusting fucking sports drinks," Agon snarls through clenched teeth between each pull-up, not even looking in his direction.
"It's strawberry. You like strawberry."
"You like strawberry, Unko-chan."
Unsui leaves the drinks. Last he remembered, Agon liked strawberry too, and an hour later when they're leaving the gym to hit a bath house, he had drained another bottle and a half of the Pocari, tossing the last of it to Unsui to finish.
The flight to New York took twelve hours and Unsui slept through most of it. He took a cab from the airport to the hotel, two days before the final match against the USA. Agon had told him not to bother flying out if they couldn't even make the finals (so Unsui had bought a ticket on the spot but only for the last two games; he had known that Team Japan would make it, with its roster of monsters and aces and superstars).
He meets Agon three blocks away from the hotel, at a little pizza joint.
"Is that a wig?" is the first thing Unsui says after they've been apart for a week, but Agon's impassive stare is enough to make him back off. He'd watched all the games; against Militaria, #2 was conspicuously missing dreads. Unsui had called Yamabushi.
"Let's just get some fucking pizza, Unko-chan," Agon drawls, feet on the table, picking up a menu and flipping through it. They order a whole pizza, everything on it- a dozen garlic knots and Agon downs an entire large coke; Unsui sticks with Gatorade. They were never especially talkative- especially to each other- but it's a tense, uncomfortable silence.
"I knew you didn't have the guts to be that fucking mummy," Agon says at the end, popping a garlic knot into his mouth whole.
"He doesn't look anything like me," Unsui murmurs, sitting properly in his uncomfortable plastic seat.
Unsui covers the check, as usual, and drops his things off in Agon's room. His twin calls up a girl and leaves; Unsui watches ESPN.
They meet before the big game, too. Unsui catches Agon before he heads into the changing room, for once unable to keep an eye on him before an important match begins. He hands him a bottle of Gatorade and a fresh pair of wristbands. "Don't get dehydrated."
"Fucking Christ, Unko, you sound like our mother."
"And if you don't feel well at any time, Agon," he says, corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk, "talk to the nurse."
Agon shoves him, but lightly, turns around and stops with his hand on the door. "Just say what you came here to say, idiot."
"Don't get hurt."
"Don't fucking give me orders, mother."
"Good luck, Agon."
"Only pieces of trash need luck."
"Win, Agon."
"About fucking time, Unko."
Unsui very clearly remembers telling himself not to do anything shameful like crying because of Agon, again. But when he sees his twin down on the field, sees his face (sees his own face) streaking scross the field faster than he could, moving and winding and playing better than he ever had, he can't even imagine himself in Agon's shoes. Their levels are too different, the gap in talent too wide. Unsui can see Habashira Rui struggle and fall, the one man on the field who's even close to Unsui's level- he's getting trashed. Unsui doesn't want to be him.
He doesn't.
He's being taunted, because that's what Agon does. He's being taunted with his own face by his little brother, who's wearing his expression and, he's pretty sure, his shoulder pads because Agon had cracked his own and didn't want to have to break in a new set on the eve of the World Cup. Finding a fit would be a problem, if his body weren't every inch the same as Unsui's, every dip and curve of muscle, every sharp angle of his face the same.
He doesn't want to do their Dragon Fly on this world stage with his twin, to sit on the bench and show the world how painfully average he is; how little he belongs with geniuses like Yamato and Taka. Hiruma and Kid are better quarterbacks; that's all there is to it. Careful, by-the-books Unsui can help his team dominate the Kantou tournament with the power of its all-stars, but against America?
Sometimes he just wants to rearrange Agon's face so it looks less like his; maybe with a baseball bat.
Unsui grits his teeth, covers his face and tells himself that no matter what else, he won't let Agon see him cry.
The bathroom is empty, as expected in the last few minutes of the game. Unsui can hear the announcer from here, so he doesn't feel the need to stay in his seat and watch. He washes his face- cold water- scrubs at it until he can't tell if his eyes are red from rubbing or from tears.
The game ends in a tie, which Unsui hears clearly over the deafening silence of the crowd. He stares at himself in the mirror, tries a sneer and decides that he couldn't look like Agon if he tried; this identical twin thing only works in one direction.
"Kah, that look doesn't work for you," a voice says from the door.
Unsui's head whips around so fast he thinks he hears his neck crack.
"Damn, Kongou, didn't you hear me?"
"You played well," Unsui says at last, regarding the bruises on Habashira's face, the way he favors his left arm and the faint streaks of blood under his nose. "It was a good game."
"I looked like a damn fool out there," Rui says, approaching the sink, pulling off his gloves with his teeth and leaving them on the counter while he runs his hands, knuckles bruised and scratched, under the water, "and the changing room got pretty fuckin' crowded. They're calling a tie."
"Oh," Unsui says, and he appreciates it, he really does, but for this game he's just a spectator. Not a coach, or a captain or a player. "Are you allowed to tell me that before they announce it officially?"
"Nah." Rui flashes him a grin, pats his hands dry on his uniform and reaches for his gloves again. "But I thought you should know that your damn twin is looking for you."
Unsui loves Agon like a dutiful big brother, but he isn't his servant. The faint roar of the crowd echoes through the restroom and he sighs. "If he needs me, he can call me. I don't think it's over yet anyway, so he can find me after the game."
"I mean he's looking for you in the stands," Rui says, and that finally gets his attention, "every damn play. Never turns his head but he's always fucking lookin' at you. Even I noticed."
Unsui isn't known for his sense of humor but he says tentatively, "Are you asking me to talk to him for you?"
"Shut the fuck up!"
He regards the lineman impassively, then sighs. "What are you trying to say?"
"I tried to follow your example, idiot. I couldn't." Rui pulls on his gloves, slicks his hair back and heads for the door. "But you're a football player too, right? Unsui."
"What are you trying to say?" Unsui repeats.
"I hate your brother's damn guts, but you would've been alright out there. Stop fucking thinking about everything for once in your damn life."
"Habashira." Unsui stops, corrects himself. "Rui."
"Or you're gonna regret it forever."
"... thank you."
Japan loses.
Unsui makes it back in time for the announcement; Agon's not paying attention to it, but when Unsui sits back down, Agon's shades are back on, though he'd left the wig on the field, and he turns to look at him, shaved head standing out even on the field, where the players are no larger than action figures.
He holds Unsui's gaze for a few long seconds, turns away.
Afterwards, during the celebration, Unsui tries to go back to his and Agon's hotel room but Rui drags him to the party; he's allowed a guest and he didn't bring any teammates anyway. Unsui tries to politely decline, but Habashira threatens him with a knife, and then tells him that he just doesn't want to stand around and be awkward, okay?
It's only after the latter that Unsui agrees.
The Deimon Devilbats (and Ikkyuu, and Yamabushi) mob him when he shows up. They confirm he's not Agon before handing him a drink (sparkling apple cider; it's still a youth tournament, after all), but he ends up at the Oujou table with Rui, Shin and Sakuraba and Takami.
Agon corners him halfway through; Rui takes off before Agon reaches him but not before clapping him on the shoulder and wishing him luck.
"The fuck did he want?" Agon asks casually, but Unsui hears the hitch in his voice where he'd stopped himself from calling Rui trash.
"I ran into him when the game was winding down," Unsui answers, and he sees Shin and Sakuraba regarding him very seriously out of the corner of his eye. "He said to tell you thank you for covering him."
"The fuck he did, Unko," Agon says, but sits down with a huff and snatches a cream puff off Sakuraba's plate.
"Where's your date?"
"Boring-ass bitch, I ditched her at the buffet table."
Unsui looks at the buffet table, where a beautiful brunette had started to flirt with Panther.
"I'll get some food," he says, shooting an apologetic glance at Sakuraba, "anything you want, Agon?"
"More of this stuff."
Panther starts when he gets close (mistaken for Agon, again), but tells him that he must be a pretty chill dude if he lives with a scary guy like Agon. Unsui tells Spencer that it was a great game; congratulations; he's an amazing runner.
The party winds down and Agon is somehow hammered. Unsui figures someone over the drinking age kept him supplied, and decides that he'll have to hunt whoever it is down and they're going to have words about getting a minor drunk. Agon leans against him, one arm over his shoulders and Unsui's making his way slowly upstairs. He runs into Hiruma on the elevator, who cracks his bubblegum and then leers at Agon.
"Fuck off," Agon says, and flips him off, head lolling on Unsui's shoulder.
"Did you drug him?" Unsui asks incredulously, "He's never gotten like this before."
"I got him a fake ID and free tequila shots," Hiruma says with a shrug. "the fucking dreads will be fine in the morning. Well, the dreads won't be, he will."
Agon will be a nightmare in the morning, is what Unsui thinks, but he loses his train of thought when Hiruma cracks his gum again. "Fucking monk, you didn't even try out."
"No," Unsui agrees, "I didn't. You played well without me."
"Why the FUCK not? We could've used another quarterback." Hiruma's trigger finger starts twitching and Unsui remembers that, from when he and Agon used to hang out. "I wouldn't even have had to bribe the fucking stubble-head over there. You would've made it."
"You know why," Unsui says even as he tries to wrap his mind around 'stubble-head', and the elevator doors open. "Good night, Hiruma."
He hears Hiruma's gum crack again, then the ding of the elevator as it closes.
"You made me do a Dragon Fly with that piece of trash," Agon growls against Unsui's shoulder.
He finally understands why Agon hadn't been home on the day of the tryouts.
"Saikyoudai," Agon says, and drops the test schedule onto Unsui's desk. "If you don't get in, I'll fucking kill you."
Unsui hands it back; "I'm going to Enma."
Agon looks at him as if he's gone completely out of his mind.
"You don't need me to make you the best," Unsui clarifies, "you already are. I like the idea of facing down the aces of the Shinryuuji Naga."
"Well well," Agon says, voice low and dangerously smooth, "Unko-chan's finally grown a backbone."
"If you'll miss me that much," Unsui shoots back, ignoring the tone that would have his teammates shaking in their spikes, handing over a folder with photos and a lease contract, "it's about twenty minutes away from both Saikyoudai and Enma."
Agon blinks twice, snatches it and walks away with the folder.
Unsui looks down at the practice book. Really, he's only skimming it; Enma's test doesn't look difficult and he knows all this material already. He'd picked the closest university to Saikyoudai with a football team on purpose.
"Hey," Agon says, sticking his head back around the door, "what do you think about an afro?"
"On you? You don't want to know what I think about an afro, Agon."
Agon snorted. "Well, fuck what you think, Enma trash."
Unsui smiles.