CHAPTER ONE:

Heroic Advances

There is something wrong with him. It's not an apparent problem, but he can definitely see it. He does not understand why nobody has said anything or even noticed that there is something wrong. But he's a hero – he's always right. He can spot the difference between the person before and the current one practicing free kicks, a mile away.

"Oi!" He calls out, a knot forming on his brow when everyone turned but him. Oh no. No one disrespects him. He is royalty – nobody has the right to ignore him. Maybe except his former captain. Or their coach. But those two are different matters altogether. Dammit, he needs to catch up on professional-type football skills as soon as possible so he would be able to legitimately gain the right to boss them around.

He grits his teeth in annoyance, calling the other out again, and this time kicking the ball toward his target in an effort to disrupt the other's concentration. It is wide, the strike; however, it does serve its purpose as he sees shoulders stiffen and blazing eyes train at him accusingly.

"Ooshiba, you ass! The hell is wrong with you?!"

Ooshiba Kiichi snorts and stalks forward, rolling his eyes as he sees the other man's aura darken further. "The hell's wrong with you?!" He roars back. "I'm your captain! I call, you come running!"

"Says who? Who died and made you king?!"

Upon closer inspection, he recognizes the other's infamous rage and something else he cannot decipher. He credits it to his superior emphatic abilities (which Kazama keeps saying is nonexistent, rude underclassman that he is), and since it is blatantly showing, Ooshiba thinks it's best to address it before it festers and drags his chances of being scouted in the next football season. It's difficult to rationalize, but for some reason or other, the guy's assists always end up giving him the chance to score magnificently.

"Says me!" He snarls as he feels a hand grasping his shirt front, his own hand automatically doing the same to his antagonist. "I am king of this castle and you're a mere subject, idiot!"

"I am not your subject, idiot! You do not own me! Coach said personal practice time, so I do my duties however I wish! You can't boss me around!" Comes the scathing response, glare boring deep into Ooshiba's skull. He can feel the beginnings of an ire-induced headache in his temple, his veins standing out in relief. It seems the other is in a similar state, except… there is that thing again, the one he can't describe. There really is something wrong, and he is duty-bound to know what it is.

"Umm… senpai?"

The sudden intrusion is enough to make both of them turn with matching enraged expressions. "What?!" They growl in unison, still clutching each other's shirts menacingly.

Nakijin Shou, their current regular goalkeeper, drops the balls cradled in his arms; sweat beading down the side of his face as he raises his hands in surrender. "Umm… Captain Ooshiba… Vice-Captain Kimishita-senpai, Coach Nakazawa told me to call you. I think he wants you in the conference room as soon as possible."

Ooshiba straightens and drops his hands to his side. There is a slight hesitation evident in his current adversary's movement as he did the same. He remembers seeing Kimishita flinch when the ever-polite Nakijin called them by their rightful titles.

He couldn't still be spiteful of Coach Nakazawa's choice is he? He wonders, giving his shorter vice-captain a short (equally short, he snorts inwardly) sidelong glance before nodding in acquiescence to the relayed request and walking away leisurely. Is it because he finally realizes how inferior he is compared to my amazing self?

He frowns, tuning out the sound of Nakijin's squeak as his vice-captain reiterated the need to take care of football gear and application of better sunblock on his skin since the younger goalkeeper is glowing a new shade of troubling red from UV exposure. I don't think that's it.

Ooshiba had been named captain last month (half of the team seemed so shocked that he initially didn't know what to feel but decided they were just jealous of his new role. But just in case, he remembers their faces and will punish them if they so much as breathe wrong in his general direction next time they have a meeting), and Kimishita's peculiar expression as well as behavior started showing only a week ago after an afternoon of skipping practice. It was something unheard of in Kimishita's case; of course he would notice sooner or later. He's not as unobservant as some people think he is (again previously pointed out by Kazama when he briefly protested Nakazawa's choice, the insolent brat).

What is it then? He racks his brains, trying to wrap his head around this mystery only he sees. The festival incident last year? But that's a long time ago – plus, I bought him some A5-grade beef when we won Nationals.

"Where the friggin' heck are you going, you idiot?! It's this way!" Startled from his reverie, he stops and turns. Kimishita is there, hands on his hips and the usual scowling expression present on his face. It seems to give nothing away, but he can really see it.

There is something wrong.

"I know that, peasant!" He huffs, jogging toward Kimishita, his face darkening in answer to the other's mood. "Just taking a shortcut." Ooshiba flips his fringe out of his eyes.

"There's only one way to the conference area, Ooshiba." Kimishita snorts contemptuously. Starting the trek to their meeting as Ooshiba caught up with him. "Unless you want to ninja your way into it by boring a hole through the south wall."

Cheeks heating up in annoyance and embarrassment, he growls in warning, prompting the other to do the same. Today is the first time in a week he has been this close to the shorter man, and traces of physical differences not unusual to others are suddenly magnified. He is thinner. He notices the forearm width and the way his uniform hangs on him. It's not too visible, but I've never seen him this skinny since… ever. His collarbone is more prominent. His –

Kimishita must have felt his gaze because he suddenly stops in the middle of the covered walkway. "What?" He asks with a defensive glower.

His skin is a bit pasty too.

"WHAT?" The other repeats, self-conscious anger rising.

His cheeks aren't as rosy when he's angry. It was completely red before.

"Nothing intelligent to say, huh?" Kimishita scoffs, turning away with an aggravated grumble.

Ooshiba bristles, his body reacting to the condescending tone more than anything. He knows he's not the best in academics, but making disrespectful nuances on his academic ineptitude (which isn't really the case, because he's a football star so he focuses on playing more. He can even top him in the rankings if he wants to. He's sure of it!) when their former captain got even worse grades and was glorified (does Kimishita think no one knows or notices him obsessing over Mizuki since their first year in the team?) profusely, albeit quietly. "Look here you –."

"Ooshiba, Kimishita. I knew it was you two. Good. Let's go." Nakazawa Katsutoshi interrupts him, peeking through the doorway and motioned for them to hurry up. "I need your input on our first game's lineup."

"Yes, coach!" They answer in unison, burgeoning argument forgotten in favour of serious football business.

Later. Ooshiba vows to himself. He will find the answer to his problem. He will pinpoint whatever it is that's slowly engulfing Kimishita.

He is a hero after all.

TBC