about their slow and dull game.
Disclaimer: I don't own Loveless.
...
E viva España
...
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Nothing.
Again, then.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Still nothing. Just what exactly was Nisei doing that was preventing him from answering the call? The idiot had probably left it on mute.
Seimei disconnected, glaring at the ceiling as if someone up there should be blamed for his fighter's incompetence. Though honestly, he wasn't pesky this time. He was pretty sure they had agreed that Nisei was to take him to school this morning and now Seimei was not only late, but apparently had little chance of ever making it to the lecture.
One more try.
Beep. Beep. Bee-
"Diga."
Or at least that was what Seimei thought Nisei said. The yawn pretty much made it unrecognizable.
He counted to ten, then took a deep breath.
"Have you just woken up?"
"Uhm… No, sure not."
Seimei rolled his eyes. He could imagine his fighter blindly reaching out for his alarm clock to check the time. Oh, right. Nisei didn't have one. So he was probably struggling with the roller-blind to see how high the sun was.
"It's five past nine", Seimei provided helpfully.
A relieved sigh confirmed his suspicions. Nisei always sucked at predicting the time judging by the sun.
He gave his fighter some time to form a coherent sentence. Relatively speaking.
"Past nine?", he could picture the fighter furrowing his eyebrows, "Don't you have a lecture at nine?"
That was the problem. Apparently Nisei's state of consciousness still left a lot to wish for.
"Well, I did", Seimei kept his tone light, inwardly cursing, "Only some idiot forgot to pick me up."
Silence.
Then, Seimei had to take the phone from his ear so the litany of curses wouldn't damage his eardrums.
"You read my mind", he smirked when he deemed it safe to speak again, "Now, could you just…"
Before he could finish his question, Nisei was on a full whining mode.
"Shit, how does it happen I never do anything right?"
Probably because he hardly ever cared to try.
"I'm so sorry!"
Now, something was off here. Nisei never apologised if he had managed to make Seimei's life more difficult. Besides, as far as the sacrifice was concerned, the fighter had been giving him 'I-don't-want-to-have-anything-to-do-with-you-unless-it's-life-threatening-you-cheating-prick' treatment lately. Not that Seimei had cheated on him (he would never endanger anyone like that). He just had had to temporarily move out of their condo because his professor found him a perfect candidate to act as a babysitter for a transfer student from Dublin. Of course Nisei, on the other hand, found it a personal insult. It was a miracle he'd agreed to pick Seimei up, though right now the sacrifice was beginning to suspect it had been all an elaborate scheme to get back at him.
"Right", he snorted, "It's really okay, just…"
"I'm such a loser!"
With anyone else, Seimei would gladly agree. With Nisei, it just sent alarm bells ringing.
"I thought", Nisei whined, "I forgot! I got so caught up with the spells I…"
"Spells?", Seimei had to sit down. He felt it was going to take far too long.
"Yeah, spells!", another half-wail, half-yell, "It's just that… After the last battle, I really thought I need to train more, I had such a hard time then…", he finished in a whisper.
No matter how hard he rattled his brain, Seimei could find nothing unusual about the last battle. Their opponents, Pointless, were quite strong but Nisei still beat them to a metamorphic pulp.
"Look, as much as I appreciate your sense of duty", he began in what he hoped was placating tone, "The battle went smoothly."
At his last words, his current flatmate appeared in the door frame. Holly, the lucky one, had no lectures till the afternoon, therefore was taking her sweet time with the morning toilette. She had just left the bathroom. She was giving him an amused look, probably guessing what had happened that had made him stay at the flat at this hour.
He rolled his eyes at her and she had to stifle a giggle.
"Can you just come for me now? I may be on time for the second part of the class."
That would guarantee his professor would throw a tantrum but at least he wouldn't miss too much. The old man took a great delight in reminding Seimei that as much as he admired his intelligence, he would not go lenient on him. Of course it was an empty talk. If he wasn't lenient, Seimei would have waved a goodbye to the university months ago.
"I'm so sorry, I was training!"
"Yes, we've already established that. Just come. Please", he forced himself to add. But he had to do something before Nisei succumbed to a rare act of self-pitying and forgot about the whole world.
As soon as he heard a shy 'bueno, bien', he disconnected so Nisei wouldn't change his mind.
He sighed. It was getting more and more difficult with every passing day.
Holly's laughter wasn't helping, by the way.
"What?", he growled.
"Nothing", the girl shook her head, "You're so adorable."
"Excuse me?", Aoyagi Seimei certainly wasn't adorable. To emphasise this fact, he pursed his lips and crossed his arms.
Holly just laughed harder.
"You're treating him like a glass doll", she finally calmed down, flopping down on a couch next to him.
"Of course not", he huffed. "Don't be ridiculous."
Holly nodded at him in the way that left it clear she pitied his self-delusions.
That made him even more defensive. But please, he treating his fighter like a glass doll? It was so ludicrous there were no words to describe it!
"Come on, Seimei", Holly elbowed him gently, "Just look at the way you talk to him. You try to order him around, but you only ever order him to do something you already know he's planning on doing anyway!"
The most remarkable thing about miss Holly O'Hara was that she was well aware of the existence of fighting units. She wasn't a part of them herself. One day, she had just informed him flippantly that he didn't have to go through all that trouble to ensure she wouldn't overhear his phone calls as she had guessed what the word on his hand meant the moment she had seen him for the first time. When he had got over the shock of having been so easily read by a foreigner who barely spoke Japanese (the reason he was stuck with her was that he spoke perfect English) he had stammered a demand of explanation. In the same unconcerned tone she had confessed that her best friend was a sacrifice, so naturally, she had told her all about the nature of the units and spells. That had made him feel like a total idiot, as he had always insisted on calling Nisei a liar whenever he mentioned that in Europe the fighting world wasn't kept such a big secret as in Japan.
"That's not it", he bristled, "I just have to stay… Sensible. He's crazy, has no such thing as attention span, he's unreasonable and unpredictable, I can't treat him like any other fighter", he murmured, feeling her mocking green eyes on him.
"Seimei, a mhuirnín", she loved addressing him in that patient voice of hers, as if he was a child, "I've met him, remember? He's not a retard. I may not be a sacrifice or a fighter, but I can recognise a deadly predator when I see one."
"He's not an insane killer", Seimei growled, fed up with people insinuating it all the time. If someone was an 'insane killer' between the two of them, it was him. Not that he's going to advertise this fact.
"I've never said he was", Holly smiled, once again reminding him of a mother dealing with a stubborn kid, "I just mean he has you wrapped around his little finger."
"He does not", the sole thought was laughable.
Wasn't it?
"Oh please, just look at the two of you", the girl giggled, "You acting like a big bad bastard while in fact you're ready to jump at his mere suggestion…"
"I never 'jump at his suggestions'!", now it was Seimei's turn to chuckle.
"Riiight", she drawled, "Nisei whines he's bored, Seimei books tickets to the theatre. Nisei's Vespa got scratched, Seimei calls the mechanic…"
"To prevent him from trying to fix it himself", Seimei cut in sternly. "That could turn out lethal."
"Exactly. Seimei, he's a big boy. You complain he has no self-control or patience, but you're not doing anything to help him to grow up."
"No, you don't get it, he doesn't think like you or me", Seimei resorted to the well-practised line. He had become so used to it he didn't even think it through anymore.
Maybe Holly could truly offer some fresh insight. But then, what could she know about their dynamics? She certainly did behave as if she had missed her calling when she had decided to become a lawyer not a psychologist. She had a knack for psychoanalysis. Seimei was enthralled by it like any other person as long as it wasn't applied to him. Just like any other person.
"That's alright to have feelings for him despite his personality", Holly patted him in consolation. Seimei stiffened. His feelings for Nisei were something he could hardly voice in his own mind, much less in front of a nosy Irishwoman. "There's something about irresponsible, slightly crazy people that makes everyone fall for them. Big children are loveable. Take all that songs and films."
"I'd appreciate it if you stopped comparing me to a soap opera", Seimei commented dryly, refusing to acknowledge the 'falling for them' part, "Or prying into my private business."
Unfortunately, Holly readily agreed. That only meant she was set on bringing the subject up at the nearest occasion as well as that she had another query prepared.
"So what was it this time?", she stretched leisurely, a contrast to Seimei's tense figure.
"Training."
Holly's eyebrows shot so high they disappeared somewhere underneath her long fringe.
"He took up a sport?"
Seimei turned slowly to give her an incredulous glance. They both burst into giggles.
"Fighter training", Seimei clarified. Nisei's interest in sport was reduced to watching those matches in La Liga when FC Barcelona played.
Holly frowned.
"Didn't you say he refuses to train?"
Oh right. The alarm bells.
Of course Nisei refused to train. He displayed what Seimei called a 'Southern personality' (with all due respect to people from the Southern part of any continent who were nice hard-working fellows). To Nisei, siesta started in the morning and ended at midnight. He fully believed that if something worked, there was no need to improve it. And if it stopped working, you just had to learn to live without it. The only things that those rule didn't apply to were the router, his laptop and his mobile. He was more than willing to spend a whole day fixing the Internet in their condo, while when the fridge had broken down he had just announced they're eating out since that day. When the vacuum cleaner had refused to work one day, Seimei had vowed not to do anything about it to force Nisei to take an interest. Only when he had developed an allergy to dust had he capitulated and bought a new one.
Seimei blamed it on Nisei's parents. They had got him tutors to help him study advanced Physics, but had never found it necessary to tell him you can't put eggs into a microwave.
Maybe Holly was right. He had never told him that either. He had simply accepted Nisei's whimsical and debonair attitude as a part of his charm.
But if Nisei had finally decided to learn some spells instead of making them up as he went, he could hardly be angry about it. He should probably be proud that his fighter had realised that basing their attack and defence on literature and history couldn't be enough.
He was not going to dissuade him.
With that resolve firmly in place, he got down to writing an excuse for his absence in class.
...
"That's alright", Seimei smiled reassuringly at the only classmate he somehow got on with well, "I'll call Nisei and we'll find out."
Yamada was almost hanging on his arm, excited with the prospect of having his theory confirmed. He knew it was driving Seimei mad – that was the reason he was touching the other sacrifice in the first place.
Kabu Yamada was a part of a Merciless fighting unit and unlike Seimei, he didn't usually find asking his fighter for anything a good idea. He was self-sufficient and would rather die than admit he was dependent on someone else. In that aspect, he was just like Nisei. That was probably why the two couldn't stand the sight of each other.
"Nisei?", he heard Aoyagi addressing the fighter, "You're at home? Why you're at home? Don't you have classes or something?", the sacrifice hissed. "Training? Why… Okay, I see. That's not why I'm calling", he sighed in a resigned way. Yamada always wondered how someone so proper and strict as Seimei put up with the nutcase Akame was. Or why he thought he would know which three European countries were the first to introduce written constitutions.
Seimei quickly scribbled something down on the paper and ended the call. Then, with a triumphant grin, he handed the note to Yamada.
"I told you I was right."
Yamada only snorted. He didn't believe a word this fighter said. He was going to check it up anyway.
"We'll see", he said threateningly. Seimei just arched an eyebrow. There was nothing he considered threatening what made him an arsehole to deal with.
"So", Yamada glared at him to let him know he's not letting it go for good, "What is the nuisance up to this time?"
"He's training", Seimei growled.
The way he always got protective whenever his fighter was being criticised was priceless. Even more given the fact he never realised that.
"Again? Wasn't he training yesterday too?", Yamada's own fighter made a point to learn ten new spells every week. Until the last few days, he hadn't heard of Akame ever doing something akin to studying.
"He's ambitious", Seimei replied, feeling a bit silly. One look at Nisei made it obvious his ambition was somewhere below sub-zero.
"If you say so", the other sacrifice nodded politely, "But why does he experience the peak of his ambition between six and ten a.m.?"
That was something Seimei would gladly get the answer to too, only he would never admit it to the Merciless sacrifice. They may be friends, but they were still potential opponents.
"He feels the most energetic in the morning."
Bullshit. Nisei had probably rarely seen six a.m. with his own eyes. He was a zombie till midday. That's why his training pattern was more than a bit suspicious in Seimei's opinion. Only he hardly could go and check as his lectures started at eight or nine. Besides, Nisei tended to look suitably tired afterwards, so maybe he had been following some advice about morning exercises he had read in a newspaper, disregarding his organism's life philosophy.
"If you say so", Yamada repeated.
...
That was beginning to get ridiculous. Nisei had been consistently claiming to train in the mornings and coming up with more and more lame reasons for it.
Seimei was almost sure he was being tricked. He made a full analysis of the entire situations. He even had a special note about it.
Nisei:
a) Was lazy
b) Hated schedules
c) Thought himself a genius of spells with no need to improve
d) Won every single battle
e) Hated waking up early
There was no way he spent those days training. Seimei was willing to believe he had indeed studied some spells once or twice after the initial thought had crossed his mind, but he had never managed to keep a habit of doing anything for longer than three days.
Time to find out what he was up to.
...
"Hey, Fearless, hang on!", Seimei jogged up to the blonde guy he would never approach under normal circumstances.
"What do you want?"
At least Mimuro didn't make it harder by being nice.
"Have you seen my fighter?"
"You've lost your own fighter? Again?", the blonde smirked.
"I didn't lose him!", Seimei glared, "It's just that he's been so busy lately…"
"Training", Mimuro stated harshly, "Glad you're so interested in his plans."
"That's none of your business", the brunette hissed impulsively.
"Apparently", Mimuro shrugged and began to walk away.
Just great.
"Hey, I really want to know", Seimei degraded himself to grab the other's hand. In return, he got pushed away so hard he almost landed on his butt.
"What do you want to know?", the Fearless sacrifice crossed his arms, "I may not want to tell you."
That was only fair. They'd never got along and if it wasn't for Nisei, they would have solved the differences between them with fists.
"Has he really been training?", that came out a bit too quiet for his liking.
"You're so fucked up you always suspect others of deceiving you, Aoyagi?", Mimuro stared at him coldly.
Put like that, it didn't sound too good. Maybe he was a tiny bit too suspicious. Yamada hadn't helped, but then, the Merciless guy wasn't exactly fond of Nisei…
"No, of course not, but don't you find it weird he trains so early? It's so unlike him…", he tried a gentler approach.
He shouldn't have bothered. Mimuro would stab him even if he brought a new Lexus as a peace offering.
"He trains so early", Mimuro's ears flattened against his head, "Because he wants to spend the rest of the day with *you*. He knows he's invincible, yet he forces himself to study all that silly little spells to appease *you*."
Seimei smiled goofily. Then, he frowned.
"I don't know what he told you, but I've never really complained about him not training enough. I may have teased him once or twice or said a stupid joke, but that's all", as Holly has said, he always backed down where Nisei was concerned.
But if the fighter didn't realise that… Nisei always had trouble understanding emotions, maybe he thought his jokes were for real? Could it be that he had been literally forcing himself to train to make Seimei happy? Was it because… Because he was afraid Seimei would stay with Holly and never return to their condo? That was stretching it a bit, but Nisei was prone to exaggerating… And panicking, and generally doubting himself unless Seimei praised him often enough…
Shit. He hadn't told him anything kind in ages. Firstly, Nisei had been acting offended, then Seimei had got caught up in the university project… He should have inquired about that training. He should have congratulated Nisei on self-discipline. Maybe he should have treated him to a cheesecake. If only Holly hadn't started this whole 'you're wrapped around his finger' thing…
"Sure, Aoyagi", Mimuro snarled, "You always do your best to put him down."
That was it. He was going to find Nisei and get everything between them sorted out.
...
He didn't manage to do it that day. Yamada called him and demanded he came to his place to finish the project and after they went through all the data and photos he was so exhausted he barely had strength to drag himself to Holly's flat and onto a couch he had been sleeping on.
He wished to sleep forever. Or at least till noon.
Of course, someone up there hated him because at dawn, Holly's phone went off. Seimei let out some intelligible grunts as the girl kept chirping to the phone.
"Oh really, shouldn't you be calling mother instead of me?", she pretended to scold someone, "Or have you already done it, and she said no?"
After that, a long monologue from the other side followed.
"Okay, okay. As long as you buy me something with ambers. Preferably earrings", she smiled at Seimei when she noticed he was watching her, "Yes, I am sorry for them, you know I wanted to go…"
Seimei stopped listening and soon enough, the call was over.
"My brother", she offered as she began making coffee, "Has come up with a wonderful idea to prolong his stay in Poland. He apparently finds the Baltic captivating."
"Baltic?", Seimei's sleep-fuzzed brain had trouble with processing that news.
"Yes, the Baltic Sea", Holly gave him a disapproving look, "You know there's a sea called that, don't you?"
"Of course I do", lying entangled in the bed sheets, his curls in disarray, he didn't sound convincing.
"He was on and on about how picturesque the beaches are there and how dreadfully cold the sea is", she put a mug on a small coffee table and made herself some space between Seimei's legs, "And how beautiful the women are. I do hope he doesn't fall in love", she pouted, "Am I boring you?"
Seimei looked awful. Besides, despite being awake, he seemed to be snoring. Her question somewhat helped him regain awareness.
"No", he yawned in her face, then smiled apologetically, "I just have a hard time comprehending what your brother may be doing in Poland. A transfer student?"
"Oh, no", she chuckled, "Brian would never get to the university. He's a great guy, but not the brightest crayon in the box", she began to massage Seimei's back absent-mindedly, "He went there to see the Euro, dummy."
"Euro?", the sacrifice's ears literally perked up, "As in…"
"The Euro Cup, yes", Holly confirmed happily, "It's so difficult to find anyone even remotely interested in football here. I wanted to go with him but the transfer happened a lot earlier than planned."
Seimei felt all the missing puzzle pieces falling at him from the ceiling.
"Does Spain happen to play too?"
"Why, of course", Holly crossed her legs, "They're defending the title. And they beat us to a pulp. In fact, everyone in our group did: the Spanish, the Croatian, the Italian… Well, the Italians took their share of the Irish hide yesterday to be precise. Hey, where are you going?", she suddenly lost balance when Seimei rolled from the couch.
"To kill someone", he growled, running a hand through his curls.
"Don't say that", Holly propped herself to her knees, wincing, "When you do that, it looks as if you mean that."
"I won't avouch I don't."
Before he could take another step, he felt himself colliding with a wall, kept in place by a very small Irish body.
"I said don't say that!", Holly's feet found his calf, "With you it sounds extra dangerous."
"That bloody liar played me, what do you expect me to do? Go pat his head?"
Holly frowned, apparently still not getting it. Eh, when was he finally going to find someone able to keep up?
"Nisei", he barked, "He was watching those bloody matches all that time, telling me he's training!"
He was sure it came out suitably offended. That's why Holly's round eyes and laughter put him off the track.
"You think it funny?", he managed to get himself free.
"Oh, Seimei", she shook her head, "You're jumping to conclusions as usual. Don't you think you need a proof?"
"I have enough evidence. Look, what time those matches are in Poland?"
"Around nine o'clock, I believe", Holly was starting to connect the dots now too, "Some of them earlier, at least at the beginning…"
"And when was the first kick-off?"
"June 8th."
"And when my studious fighter began his morning training sessions?"
Holly bit her lip, trying to restrain herself from giggling. Seimei looked so bloody insulted.
"June 8th, if my memory serves right", she provided dutifully.
Aoyagi's fist met the wall. Fortunately it didn't do any lasting damage.
"I'm going to kill that weasel!", he screamed, rushing off to find something to wear, "Here I was, getting all worked up thinking what I did to make his noble arse act so offended and obedient, getting ranted at by all of you", a murderous glare at Holly, "While that idiot was comfortably watching twenty two grown-up men running after a ball!", the word 'ball' was spat out as he pulled on a sweater.
He whirled around only to bump into Holly blocking the front door.
"Funny, you sound as if you didn't like football", she said flippantly, though he wasn't fooled for a second.
"I don't have anything against it", he huffed, trying to get past her, "Though I still basically find it unworthy of all the attention it's receiving."
"From your fighter", she added cheekily.
"Him too."
Holly looked cross.
"Listen, mister. Can you hear yourself? You're jealous of *football*?"
Why did people insist he was ever feeling jealous where Nisei was concerned? Couldn't they see the little bastard had lied to him? Deceived him? And why couldn't they excuse his anger for once?
"I'm not jealous! I'm pissed! He could've told me, Holly, told me!"
"And what would have you done then?", she arched her eyebrow.
"Nothing", he bristled, "Just as I did nothing when he wanted to watch the Mundial. I would be mad at him for missing classes but I think we've already established my control over him is purely nominal", he suddenly felt like a balloon treated with a needle. Empty.
So he turned around and plopped down on a couch.
"Oh, a mhuirnín", Holly sighed, coming up to him, "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? What for?"
"For accusing you. It's just that", she bit her lip, "Please, don't take it personally, but generally, you're a prick extraordinaire. You tend to exaggerate. And explode at the merest hint of being defied."
"Well, thank you", he snarled, "And here you were on a good road to comfort me."
She blushed.
"Why don't you just go and get it all sorted out? Maybe he's been training, actually."
He snorted.
"You honestly believe that?"
"Well, no", she winced, "But give him the benefit of doubt."
"He gets all the benefits he may dream of with me", Seimei rolled his eyes, "And just so you know: I was on my way to get it all sorted out before you attacked my with your psychological approach. The whole talk about jealousy and my temper was unnecessary. We've somehow managed to co-exist and not kill each other for years now."
At that Holly looked crushed. Maybe she shouldn't have interposed.
"Hey, come on", she felt his hand on her forearm, "You coming with me or not? Nisei says I'm especially entertaining when I lose my head."
She could only blink at him.
"You mean it?"
"Oh please, don't make such a drama of it", he answered nonchalantly, "With all that 'do you mean it?', 'you think so?' and other 'gentling me' crap. Gods. Is that your personal trait or just a girl thing?", he smirked.
"Hey!", she elbowed him non too gently, "You're a total bastard. I just wanted to help you. If you find altruism a condemnable girly trait…"
"And that's why I'm more inclined towards guys", Seimei massaged his hip, "Seriously, I appreciate how worried you are about me and my 'relationship'", a quotation mark here, "But there's no need to point out problems where there are none. Now, I'm just going to our flat, give him the piece of my mind, get ignored or yelled out and storm out. Want to see it?"
"Sure", she brightened up, finally swallowing down all the information.
"And I need you to give me a quick football tips for dummies."
...
Nisei was ecstatic. And crestfallen. And ecstatic again. And crestfallen again.
He was ecstatic that La Roja got to the quarter-final. But crestfallen they seemed to have problems with the *Croatian* attacks.
Not that he had anything against the Croatians, he had honestly wished them an advance, but how could the Euro *and* World Champions have trouble stopping anyone on the Croatians' level? There were two possible solutions: either the Croatians were ingenious, or the Spanish lacked. He feared the latter.
So it wasn't all that surprising he hadn't gone to sleep yet but it was slightly disturbing Seimei hadn't called. He usually made a single call around eight, as if to confirm Nisei hadn't got himself killed with his training. So far, his mobile had been silent.
If he was to be truthful, he felt somewhat bad about constantly lying to his sacrifice. All in all, the bastard hadn't been too 'bastardous' lately and probably didn't deserve to be deceived. But come on, Nisei had already lived through one final with him. Seimei had been hopeless. His knowledge about football ended with the fact that there were two teams eleven players each. He didn't know what a penalty area was. He didn't know how many yellow cards a player had to get before leaving the pitch.
And he had supported the Netherlands. That wasn't something Nisei could easily forgive.
Besides, Nisei was planning on watching *all* the matches, not only those of La Roja (one had to know his enemies). It wouldn't be possible with Seimei complaining or deliberately occupying Nisei's time with imaginary tasks. He would get cross with his fighter for ignoring him and Nisei would get pissed at being pulled away from his football. Anyway, the Euro Cup was only once in four years, Seimei could live without his fighter's undivided attention for a month once in four years (Nisei was conveniently forgetting the Mundial in his calculations).
And his 'training'? Well, he was practically unbeatable. With his technique, Seimei would never be able to tell whether he had studied or not.
Now he only had to make himself presentable and head out for whichever classes he hadn't already missed. Mimuro was bound to throw a fit sooner or later, but fortunately, he had been blaming Seimei so far. So all was peachy.
The sound of a key turning in the lock froze him in his tracks.
Shit. Seimei wasn't supposed to come home!
When the doorknob was pressed down, Nisei did the only thing he could to do the 'damage control' and sat down on the Spanish flag still lying on the sofa, inwardly apologising to the national emblem.
"Hello, Nisei", Seimei's smooth baritone rang in the stillness of the flat.
"Hola", the fighter chirped back, doing his best to look innocent. The fact he never managed to learn how to do it was a different matter.
"I've been wondering how your training's going", Seimei ruffled his curls, "I'm afraid I've been neglecting you, but I trust you got my message about the up-coming exam and my current project…"
He might have, once he thought about it.
"Sure, I don't mind", he smiled broadly at his sacrifice, praying he wouldn't ask him to fetch anything, "I planned to surprise you with my new-learnt tricks anyway."
So he'd just have to come up with two or three spells. No big deal.
"So how went today's… Aah, session?"
Nisei certainly didn't like the wolfish expression on his sacrifice's face. The younger boy crossed the distance between them and sank on an armchair, smug and too self-satisfied.
"Pretty well", Nisei wouldn't get beaten in his own game, "Though I admit my wording gets too complicated at times. It slows the action", at least he got inspiration.
"I see", Seimei grinned predatorily, crossing his ankles, "But I hope you're not underestimating the opponent? Not get too arrogant? Or worse yet, has a perfect spell going on but lack the final, how to call it… Kick?"
Nisei couldn't help fidgeting. How came Seimei seemed to have the same inspiration?
"I'm working on everything", he tried to wind the topic up, "Soon the final 'kick' will be unstoppable too."
"That's good to hear", Seimei agreed sweetly.
A pregnant pause.
"Nisei, by the way", he propped his chin on his hand, "Don't you think squashing a national flag with your arse is a tiny bit offending? Surly a grandson of a minister of foreign affairs knows better."
Nisei felt his cheeks flushing red but he couldn't help a relieved sigh when he finally got la Rojigualda from underneath himself. He put it on the sofa next to him with appropriate respect, getting rid of all the wrinkles. All that time, he was desperately thinking of an explanation. Still, was it that suspicious to have one's flag in a flat?
Surprisingly, Seimei didn't ask. Instead, he went on about how tedious his project was and how he couldn't count on Yamada to do anything right without holding his hand and telling the directions. His voice was even and relaxed.
So Nisei relaxed, too.
A fatal mistake. He dozed off.
"Nisei!", Seimei's sharp voice accompanied by a shake penetrated his clouded mind.
"Uhm, yeah?", he blinked rapidly, stifling a yawn.
Seimei didn't look amused.
"Sorry", Nisei squeaked sheepishly.
"You're ignoring me", the sacrifice stated coldly, eyes boring into the fighter.
"I'm not", Nisei dragged himself to an upward position, crossing his arms defensively. "I just didn't get enough sleep. Training."
"I wonder", Seimei drawled, "Whether you truly think me as stupid as you think yourself smart."
Nisei's skin prickled. Not in a pleasant way.
"I'm afraid I'm lost here", he tried to chuckle but Seimei's glare killed his pretended amusement.
"Let me enlighten you", the sacrifice stood up, stalking towards Nisei. When he was centimetres away, he stopped to state icily. "For the past two weeks you've been claiming to 'train', while you were simply sleeping the mornings away because you spent every night watching stupid matches!"
"They're not stupid!", Nisei protested hotly. Then he wished to have something to bang his head with.
"So you're not denying it."
Nisei put his chin up defiantly.
"Alright, so I'm not", he couldn't help but sound sheepish. He lowered his eyes, though, to appease Seimei's sacrifice instincts.
Unfortunately, Seimei was well past buying such acts.
"You little lying shit", he made a move as if to grab Nisei, but the frail fighter cowered and he changed his mind. He noticed a shocked, wary peek focused on him, though, and grimaced. Did Nisei expect him to beat him up right now? Okay, so he felt like it, he sooo felt like it, but it probably wouldn't solve anything. He'd tried that approach years ago and there had never been any visible results. Besides, Holly was standing just behind the door and he was sure that the moment he touched Nisei, the Irish girl would punch him. So he took few calming breaths before continuing, "You've had me tiptoeing around you for those all days, in case I disturbed your precious training time", he let Nisei see his balled fists. He may not be planning to knock him around, but Nisei didn't have to know that, "Changing my bloody schedule or taking stupid buses so you had your mornings to yourself, all for nothing!"
"I didn't ask you to take buses!", Nisei found his voice again, "I didn't ask you to tiptoe! Besides, what's wrong with you, you prick? You haven't shown any interest in me or my day since you moved in to that Irish witch!"
"I-", Seimei needed a moment to process it. Was it him who was being presented as the guilty party here? "It's you who's been giving me a silent treatment."
"As if that ever stopped you before", his fighter snorted, eyes flashing.
"I had a project, you had your training", Seimei spat the last word, though all in all, he sounded awfully close to defensive, "And I did call you every day."
"To ask how my training was going", Nisei finished coldly.
"Because I was under impression you *were* training. Forgive me for taking an interest in your daily activities", he used his fighter's previous argument.
"If you had truly taken an interest, you would have found out sooner", Nisei sneered.
"Now it's my fault I trust you?"
"It's your fault you don't give a damn about me unless you need me!", the fighter's glare was murderous as he whirled on his heels to stomp away.
"I was busy, okay? And I though you're busy", Seimei grabbed his shoulder to turn him back to face him, "And I'm not the one who should be apologising", he added sternly in vain hope to restore his authority.
"Keep dreaming", a snort, "You'd rather I'd told you?"
"Of course!"
"So you could have ordered me not to watch anything?", came a venomous question.
Seimei had to let go of the fighter's shoulder. He may end up dislocating it any second now.
"Ordered you?", he hissed, narrowing his eyes, "We both know how good you're at ignoring my orders. It's obvious that idiotic football would have been put above me!", he realised how hurt and bitter he sounded when the words were already out. Shit.
"Don't play a victim, it doesn't become you", the fighter growled lowly, "You know I always listen to you. Don't blame me for wanting to save that little part of my life from your pompous, self-righteous influence", he said in a deceptively calm voice.
"You always listen to me?", Seimei's eyebrows shot up, "No, the expression you're looking for is 'you always hear me out'. What you do afterwards is what you damn please."
Nisei bristled. Maybe that had him too close to home.
"But you'd have come up with some school crap for sure", he pouted, suddenly deciding to act like a kid.
"Of course I would have. You're skipping *again*."
"Because I don't need to learn that. I already know it all", it was a well-practised line, usually fed to Mimuro. But while the Fearless sacrifice had some means to check it as he was at the same school, Seimei didn't have a clue about how his fighter's skills measured to those expected of a programmer.
"But once you get kicked out it doesn't really matter, does it?", he chose the safest option.
"They would never kick me out", the fighter stated with such conviction that Seimei could only throw his hands up in hopeless defeat.
There was a pregnant pause. Seimei was so pissed he was ready to storm out but Nisei's fighter instincts or placating nature kicked in. He silently walked up to his sacrifice and gently nudged his arm.
"Hey, chill out, Seimei", he poked him shyly, "The Euro is only once in four years. Surly you can live with that."
The sacrifice huffed.
"Yeah, and there's the Mundial every four years too."
"Alright, so you can live with a bit of football once in two years", Nisei amended, inwardly grateful it'd been Seimei who's brought the difficult subject up.
The sacrifice snorted and the fighter knew he'd won.
"Don't forget the Olympic Games, the winter ones included. Once in four years each."
"No te preocupes", Nisei grinned cheekily, "I don't watch those. Plus, no one can guarantee La Roja will play in every Mundial and Euro."
Seimei was too smart to express his wish that it'd turn out to be true.
...
Few minutes later, the curly haired sacrifice slipped from the condo. As soon as she spotted him, Holly gave him a head shake.
"No wonder you're constantly on a war path. If that's the way you solve your conflicts", she informed curtly.
"Great", Seimei was too tense after the confrontation to stay polite, "What's wrong with us now?"
"You didn't really solve anything."
"We never do."
"That's what I meant."
...
Thirteen days later, Nisei's preparations for the final were disturbed by knocking. He went to check out who's insomniac enough to visit him in the middle of the night and found that green-eyed witch smiling at him behind the door. It wouldn't do him any good to be rude to his sacrifice's temporary roommate, so he opened the door. To his surprise, the said sacrifice was standing right behind her. He wasn't there willingly, mind you. It had been all Holly's idea that he "got to know his fighter better, because no relationship can work without tolerating each other's little quirks and besides, Seimei, you're already letting him watch the Euro till the end, why not try to enjoy it yourself?". Personally, he was sure he wouldn't, but that hadn't quite made the girl changer her mind.
"Hi", Holly greeted him warmly as if she didn't notice his hostile glare, "We're bringing the reinforcements", she explained, pointing to a shopping bag Seimei was carrying.
Nisei's eyebrows shot up in a pleasant surprise.
"Seriously? Pasa, pasa", he quickly ushered them inside, smiling madly, "Everyone's welcome to see the night that changes the history!"
Holly beamed at him as she'd been a bit apprehensive of coming there and hurriedly took out her own Spanish flag to put it on her shoulders. As she was already wearing an Irish hat, she looked very international.
"I wouldn't have thought you'd support La Roja!", Nisei elbowed her wickedly, all his doubts about her evaporating as soon as he saw la Rojigualda, "We kind of bit you to a pulp."
"Oh, come on", she rolled her shining eyes, "You're so much better."
"'Course we are! We're unstoppable", Nisei made a pirouette, smiling like mad.
Seimei could only shake his head at his antics as he was sitting down on a couch. He might be here to watch that damn match, but that didn't automatically mean he was enthusiastic about it. All in all, the whole situation only emphasised that he always bent to the fighter's wishes, whether they were expressed or not.
"Don't be so rash", he smirked, "The Italians may still prove otherwise. The Spanish don't even have a striker."
"Stop right now!", his fighter plopped down just next to him, shaking his finger at him, "If I as much as suppose you're supporting them you're gonna find yourself outside the door sooner than you realise what's hit you!", even though he was clearly joking, his eyes were gleaming in the same way that always made their opponents re-think the decision about challenging Beloved. "And they don't need a striker. They're all strikers."
Seimei sighed and made a face that suggested someone was hugely exaggerating there. Then, he caught the expression on Holly's face, that kind of mirrored Nisei's and it just cemented his belief that all football fans were insane and another species. Just to be safe, he wrapped a red-yellow scarf around his neck.
...
After collecting all edible products that they had managed to find in the condo, the two cheering and one reluctant spectators seated themselves on the sofa. Nisei was occupying the middle seat, with Seimei and Holly flanking him. He found some Internet channel that was broadcasting the final in English.
The moment the Spanish anthem rang through the speakers, both the Irish girl and the fighter stood up looking focused, as if they were praying, lips moving even though the anthem had no words.
"Why am I even here…", Seimei began in a miserable tone.
"SHUT UP!", he didn't have time to finish as both his companions yelled at the same time. So he sank into his seat, resigning himself to two hours of torture.
...
"Fàbregas…", the commentator's slightly excited voice was relating the events from the Italian penalty area, "And Silvaaaaa!"
His shout carried on as a small man with a mop of dark hair sent the ball straight into the goalpost.
"Yeees!", the silent sacrifice jumped up on the sofa as both Nisei and Holly sprang to their feet, yelling like crazy and finally throwing themselves into each other's arms.
"Olé, olé, olé, olé!", Nisei intoned too enthusiastically to keep in tune, "Take that all back bastards, all that you've said about La Roja and del Bosque!", he pointed to the screen, apparently warning the commentator even though Seimei had no idea what had been said about any of them.
...
"Italy… And now Xavi has the ball, Xavi…", Seimei was gradually moving to the edge of the sofa as his fighter was leaning on him more and more as the ball kept rolling on the grass. He bit down a huff. Really, as if anything could ever be achieved with such an action. "Jordi Alba, Alba, Buffon gets forwards, Alba… GOAL!", the sacrifice's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as another small guy ran straight at the Italian goalkeeper and calmly kicked the ball right under Buffon's nose. He didn't have time to marvel at the genius behind that simple manoeuvre because Nisei launched himself at him, screaming madly into his ear. He was vaguely aware of Holly jumping somewhere to the right.
"Yeah!", Nisei punched his shoulder playfully, "That was sooo brilliant wasn't it? And Barca has just bought that guy. Viva Alba!"
His joy was contagious, it must have been, because Seimei elbowed him back, grinning.
"Hey, you're always saying they're all brilliant", he reminded, "Don't be so surprised."
"Ya, ya, I know, but those people have been all talking how La Roja plays awfully", his fighter pouted, "But they've been just saving their strength for the final!"
"Then they're not only brilliant, they're also prophets", the sacrifice snorted good-naturedly and Nisei nodded. Right now he was probably willing to believe they were gods.
...
"Oooh, the end already?", Holly whined as the arbiter whistled the end of the first half.
"They need a break", Seimei needed a break himself.
"Ya, and dear Cesare needs a chance to scold the living hell out of his boys", Nisei winked, "Not that it will do them any good."
"Don't bring them bad luck", Holly frowned, "If you keep this up, they may lose."
"Don't be ridiculous", Seimei shocked himself with huffing, "The Spanish don't even let them create a decent situation, only some corners and frees, but they're not as impressive as the Spanish team work. And if they do, that chicken will catch the ball anyway", he may be a complete laic, but he could notice which team was better. And seriously, that slim, delicate-looking guy? The one Nisei was always going on and on about? He must be some kind of a wizard! It was surly impossible to lead the ball like that, as if it was glued to his leg. Or rather, as if it was it leading him and not the other way around.
Holly glanced at him with amusement but Nisei was far too gone in his fan-mode to realise his sacrifice had just displayed an unusual interest in football.
"Chicken?", he pretended to be offended, "Casillas may just about steal the title of the best goalkeeper from Buffon!"
"And Silva?", Holly cut in, "Amazing! He even started a header fight with Balotelli!"
"Right", Seimei laughed, "No one can say he's a coward. But the only header fight he can win is when he rams his head into someone's stomach!"
They all erupted into laughter, face shining with appreciation of the man's header skills.
...
And the second half.
Seimei wasn't even aware of the exact moment when he forgot about his scepticism and pre-planned irony.
"Fàbregas, Balzaretti, no, Fàbregas keeps the ball", the commentator was getting excited.
So was Nisei, who's nails were currently digging into Seimei's forearm. He hardly noticed though, eyes boring into the screen, urging the damn guy to bloody do something with this ball.
"Buffon, Silva… Ay! Such a situation!"
"Fuck!", three voices merged into one.
...
"Montolivo", Seimei bit his lips, "Di Natale… Casilllas!"
Three relieved sighs.
"Fuck, that chicken", Seimei was quite at loss of words about what exactly that chicken was. Definitely a force to be reckoned with. But there was no real need for words, the others understood him perfectly. In fact, Nisei looked ready to go and kiss Casillas' face on the screen.
...
They all made faces when the Italian guy was getting carted off. It didn't look that he would be returning anytime soon. And Prandelli had used all his subs. Even though La Roja had already scored two goals and showed exactly who ruled the football world, they suspected there would still be talking that they won unfairly, with only ten Italians on the pitch.
"At least he wasn't fouled", Holly tried to sound comforting.
...
Then the game got a bit slow. The Spanish seemed to be looking for the third goal, but with no urgency. Which was rather kind of them, once you thought of it. If not a bit dull.
Finally, Fàbregas and Pedro went for the Italian goalpost, but this time the defence worked well.
"He's getting subbed", Nisei stated when Seimei and Holly were still cursing the small defeat, "Del Bosque will change him with Torres."
"How can you know?", the sacrifice arched an eyebrow. Sure, the guy wasn't lucky himself, but he had assisted with some great situations.
"I just do", Nisei smiled minutely as if he had shared some big secret with the Spanish coach, "Torres is like a symbol", he provided after a second, "He has to play in this match. And del Bosque always changes Fàbregas with him."
"Oh, you're kidding", Seimei rolled his eyes resolutely.
(Un)Surprisingly, Fàbregas walked off the pitch a minute later.
...
"Xavi, this man could make a career as a sprinter", the commentator's voice was laughing.
"He plays for Barca", Nisei added as if it made the guy a ball virtuoso by default.
"Xavi, Torres…"
"YEEEEEEEEES!"
"Oh I love them!", Nisei cried out and for that reason, apparently, kissed Seimei.
The fighter just kept on jumping and swinging his flag when his sacrifice was standing there, blinking dumbly.
...
"Iniesta?", Nisei scowls darkly, "How the hell can he fucking replace Iniesta? You can't replace Iniesta!"
Seimei only shook his head mutely at his fighter's indignation and ruffled his hair to cheer him up. His favourite player had already showed everyone in Kyiv who's the ball wizard. Someone else deserved a chance, even if you couldn't replace Iniesta.
...
It turned out you could.
"Torres, he's heading for another goal, Torres… Mata!"
Seimei and Holly jumped up, screaming some intelligible words of admiration. The fell into an embrace and only then noticed that the fighter had remained on the sofa, his face in his hands.
"Nisei", Seimei gently nudged his head, "Nisei, come on", he picked the small face up and found tears streaming down the place cheeks, "Gods, what's wrong?". As far as he was concerned, everything was going damn well: the bloody Spanish were winning and he was here, going through all that madness even though he couldn't care less about football. He still didn't quite get when you got a free or a corner.
"Four goals", the fighter managed to choke out, a grin breaking on his face, "No one has ever won the Euro final 4:0!", he exclaimed and burst into even worse tears, though his grin never disappeared.
Seimei exchanged a shocked glance with Holly, who in the end only shrugged. Her eyes seemed to be saying: "you deal with him. Show that you care, you bastard."
"You're mad", the sacrifice scooped Nisei into his arms, petting him awkwardly. "Utterly mad."
...
"And Proença whistles the end of the match", the commentator announced, "Something unbelievable has happened on my and yours very eyes, first La Roja won the European Championships in 2008 in Austria, then the Mundial in 2010 in RPA and now, La Furia Roja re-asses their dominance by winning here, in Kyiv, finishing the Polish-Ukrainian Euro in the greatest way possible, proving that tiki-taka still defeats the opponents! They are the first European Champions to retain their trophy, and the first team in history to win three major international tournaments in a row!", Nisei had been shamelessly sobbing since the last goal and now Seimei had to admit that his sight was also blurred with something. But the tone of the commentator was just so… Big. "Iker Casillas wins the 100th match in his career. My God, they have all just become legends. La Furia Roja triumphs again!"
"We need champagne!", Holly cried out, waving like crazy.
...
The Spanish squad was cheering and showing off their cup, the champagne catching all of Holly's attention, when Seimei took his chance and kissed his fighter once again under la Rojigualda.
"I take you liked it?", the fighter whispered flushed when they broke the kiss.
"I could get used to it", especially if it ended like that. Again, he had to admit Holly had been right. He had become such a softie he wasn't even seeing his behaviour as a kind of a reward for Nisei. Honestly, he was ready to think that this kiss was *his* reward. Not that Nisei, Holly or Yamada would ever learn of this.
"Good", Nisei chuckled, running his hand through the sacrifice's curls, "La Liga starts again soon."
He didn't expect an answer. He didn't have any doubts that Seimei would be there.
...