Notes: Yay for Renegade reaching 1,300 hits! Views are appreciated, though a surprising amount of them are from Denmark. So many that I'm 90% sure they're not real people... well, that was a depressing conclusion. Anyway, reviews are even more appreciated! Hope you guys have a great Christmas!
Chapter 12: Inertia Creeps
In his living room, Cap asked, "Want anything to drink? Nonalcoholic, of course. Parents are around. Complications. You know," he added snidely.
"Piss off," Fudou growled, sunk deep into the sofa. "Anything. Water."
Minutes later, Fudou was nursing a glass of warm water, while Cap sipped his Sprite contentedly. The TV was on and tuned to his favourite channel, sports of course. Of course. Though the sight of the players running round the field pissed Fudou off, he was content to sit there with his warm water in both hands, in the comfy chair and the relatively quiet room. It went without saying that that was the softest couch Fudou had ever had the pleasure of sitting in in his life. Moodily sipping the water, he ignored the screen and let his eyes roam around the decor.
The wallpaper was the typical flower shit he expected from middle-aged ladies and was completely different to the clean simplicity of Cap's room. He got a major Little House at the Prairie vibe from it, but it wasn't nauseating. Fudou leaned back and rested his head deeper in the plush, swivelling around a bit to get the best spot. Then he leaned forward and placed the glass on the coffee table. For the first time, he noticed the magazine on it.
He immediately turned to Cap, who was watching him carefully.
"I knew I'd seen your name from somewhere, you know," Cap said, leaning forward towards him. "It just took me a while to connect the dots." Sliding the magazine towards himself with one hand, he flipped open to the one page and jabbed at it with his index finger. "I thought you were from Teikoku Academy for the longest time, and sure, I got the wrong Teikoku, but Shin Teikoku football captain? What's that kind of guy doing here fucking around and getting high?"
Fudou shook his head. This was so incredibly inconvenient.
"Shin Teikoku doesn't exist anymore," he said. "It was closed down a few months ago."
"I know that," Cap said testily. "I follow the news, you know. This is what you've been doing since then? No other school wanted your abilities? Shin Teikoku had links to the FA, didn't it?"
"Do you know why Shin Teikoku closed down?" Fudou asked Cap, watching his face.
Cap shrugged. "Newspapers didn't say. It was quite shifty, actually. It just happened." He squinted at him but Fudou beat him to the chase.
"Well, if you don't know, I won't tell you then."
"I've been going back to school," Cap said suddenly. Anything to break the awkward silence punctuated only by the overexcited commentator. "It's not too bad. It's actually quite interesting."
"Mmm," Fudou said, trying to sound more disinterested than he actually was.
"I mean, different stuff happens every day," Cap continued. "With the gang, it was just getting boring, you know?"
Fudou gave another grunt, and turned in the sofa so that he was lying on his side, facing away from Cap. "If you say so."
At some point in the game, it became very obvious that one team was vastly more physical than the other. When push came to shove, they didn't hesitate in doing just that, and they produced some very vicious tackles that made even Fudou wince.
"That's bullshit," he commented. Hearing Cap shuffle around, he looked at him to see him looking back.
"You think?" Cap said vaguely.
"Yeah," Fudou said. "Damn Nagasaki. Can't score goals without being total brutes. Especially that number 7."
They watched some more, and Cap started making snide comments about the various offences that were being committed and flagrantly got away with. That shirt-puller's a dick ("He can suck my dick," Fudou commented wryly), that looked totally intentional (Fudou disagreed), he was definitely aiming for skin in that tackle ("You do too, don't lie.")
"No, I don't," Cap said testily in response.
"I do. I did," Fudou corrected himself. "I don't believe you."
"I'll prove it to you. Are you still not playing football?"
"What's up?" Fudou asked, though he had a very good idea.
"Play with me and my friends on Sunday. We go to this field that's under the bridge. It's really nice and the grass is well-tended and doesn't make you slip."
Fudou shrugged and reached for his water. More time out would mean less time home having to face his parents. He dreaded to think what that would even be like after today. And kicking a ball around wouldn't mean much in the end. It wasn't like he had any jobs or anything on Sunday, anyway. But still, even then, the image of Kageyama flashed through his mind, and he shuddered.
"It's fun," Cap said. "We go for a few hours. We're not that good, but we're okay."
Fudou made a show of thinking a bit more, but frankly wasn't in the mood. "I'll tell you later."
"Where were you, Akio?" his mother asked him with a hard voice when he stepped into the house.
"Out," he said neutrally. A flash of irritation crossed her face, so he clarified, "At a friend's house. We watched TV."
"Is that all you did?" she asked in that same voice. She kept her distance from him, he noticed. He nodded, but she didn't falter. Instead, she stuck out her hand.
"Give me your bag. I'm going to check."
"You cannot be serious." Fudou took a step back, and put an arm over it.
"Fudou Akio, don't forget that you broke the trust in our family." What trust? "And trust has to be earned back. I don't trust you, and I don't know how long it will be before I can. Now give me that bag or you're not taking another step into the house."
He sighed. As much as the idea of another few hours in Cap's sitting room appealed to him, he knew that he wouldn't be welcomed back into the house right after he'd left, and so late at night to boot. And he really wanted to just be in his room for a while. Grudgingly, he handed the bag over and tried to keep his face dispassionate as his mother rummaged through it.
Eventually, she looked up. "Look at me," she commanded, and he complied.
"Now tell me again, Fudou Akio. Did you smoke? Did you drink? Did you do drugs?"
"No, no, no," he answered quickly, and something hateful unfurled within his chest. It was utter bullshit that they were subjecting him to the Inquisition now, after he'd lost his appetite for all that.
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Yes." He stared back at his mother, trying not to flinch. He had never before seen the current expression on her face directed at him. Well, at least he knew how his dad felt now. "Look, Mum, I just want to go back to my room and relax."
His mother faltered, and an odd expression flickered through her face. These odd expressions were fast becoming an unwelcome regular feature. She finally backed up, returning him his bag, and waved him through.
"Don't get too comfortable. I need you to do some chores."
Her orders were terse, and Fudou tried not to let that affect him. It almost seemed like his mother had replaced his father with him.
He couldn't look at his bed again without thinking of the day he'd rolled and how he'd been unable to sleep for so long afterwards. He couldn't look at anything without thinking of that, actually. The (nonalcoholic) drinks on his table reminded him of the filches, hell, even the books on his desk reminded him of school and Shin Teikoku and Kageyama. He rolled around in his bed, trying to sleep, before eventually taking out his phone. It wasn't a high-tech smartphone like the ones all the cool kids sported nowadays, but it did the job. Flipping it open, he scrolled through his contacts and his messages.
Communication from Takan, Wada, and Maki had stopped since his last sale. Not that there had been very much of it. It had mostly been stuff like "hey i got the alc" and "where r we meeting" and that didn't make for good conversation. He probably should have talked to them more back when they hung out, but it was too late now. Besides, apart from being beer and cig buddies, they hadn't amounted to much anyway. Vaguely, he recognised the dull irritation he was feeling as bitterness, and he hated them.
He scrolled down further, and saw messages from his former Shin Teikoku teammates. Again, his communication with them had been brief and work-related. Telling them about practice, giving instructions, assigning duties, and, just occasionally, giving advice on game-related matters. He thumbed past them quicker and quicker but stopped, because he knew that it was all there was going to be. Switching to his contacts list, he scrolled through the various people in his life.
Maki. Their little thing had been nothing, really. It had been because of the drug. Sure, he thought she was hot now, but she obviously didn't return this opinion. And Fudou knew that for better or for worse, she had changed. The sexier clothes, the annoyingly coy voice, the way she leaned closer to Takan… there was no way she liked him, she just wanted the drug. He'd liked the no-nonsense Maki who wore hoodies and sneakers and punched boys who bullied her and resisted his advances firmly so much more. He just couldn't believe she'd changed so much so quickly.
Wada. He had been suckered in at first by his friendly and naive big brother attitude. Then he realised that that was all an act, and that he was surprisingly good at getting what he wanted. Though Fudou did one-up him in the end, getting the alcohol and cigs. That had been the first step. Wada had become friendlier after that, but also weak. There was no other word to describe it. Finally, Fudou recognised Wada's closeness as sucking up, exactly what Maki was doing to Takan now. He supposed everybody had their threshold. But no matter. He had made Wada weak and blubbering, but the drug had been the final straw. The last Fudou had seen, Wada was now no better than Takan's lackey boy. It really was a shame.
Takan. That son of a bitch asshole. He'd been happy that the guy had been able to provide something for once. It had really given him some confidence. But the shit he went through to get it, and the people he ran with… Fudou wanted none of that. He was a bastard, but not the "I suck up to get what I want, then stab you in the back" variety. Nor the "I let myself get slapped around so I can do it in the future" kind. And especially not the "I kill people who oppose me" kind. What would Cap say now if he knew what Takan had done?
Takanashi. Fallen out of his life after Shin Teikoku, but back then she hadn't even been a large part. She was the only girl on the team, but she had just been a fellow teammate. He didn't even remember her being that good, just a quick runner with good ball sense. But just like that, she had waltzed back in, and he wasn't sure if he liked it. Her dad was all right though. He worked hard for him, and in return he got money and no questions asked.
Shogo's number wasn't there, but the kid didn't have a mobile anyway. It was actually quite a mystery as to how he always knew where to meet up with them. Wada had probably told him back when.
And finally, way at the bottom of his recent contacts list, was Cap. It was actually a miracle that he had his number. Fudou pressed the green button on his cell, held it to his ear, and waited for it to connect.
"Hey. It's me. (Oh. You coming on Sunday then? Finally thought it through?) Shut up. Fuck off. Where is it? (You fuck off, Fudou-kun. That had a sharper edge to it. It's under the highway that runs towards the city, near the metro station. Near the library.) What time? (We're meeting at noon, but you can turn up later if you like. We're looking at maybe two or three hours.)" He paused to listen, and grunted. "I'll be there."
Fudou was at the Kita Park football field at five minutes to twelve. He didn't dress especially differently, only substituting his long baggy trousers with sports shorts. In his hand, he held his ball, and as he waited, he kneaded it thoughtfully. He'd carried it on his way there, never once able to bring himself to kick it. It just didn't feel like the right time. It had been a long time not playing football, and he hesitated every time he thought of it again. But he thought of the alternatives to what he could be doing—going back with his tail between his knees to Takan, and hoping that he accepted him back, so he could shoot up some more and spend his life running away and die in an alleyway one day, or staying at home and facing the icy awkwardness between his parents and himself. All in all, this was the most interesting thing he had lined up for him that day.
He caught sight of a group of boys coming down the hill, and nodded at them. Though they probably couldn't see it. He could make out the distinctive red cap and, as they came closer, was surprised to see a little shape tagging along.
That hat was unmistakable. It was Shogo.
Whose eyes bugged out when he spotted him. It was actually quite funny to watch, and if Fudou squinted, he could see the boy jumping and waving his hands around and being his old hyperactive self.
"Someone's early," Cap said when he arrived, in that odd amused yet distant voice. By now, Fudou had learned to ignore it and just take his words at face value. It really was easier that way. He gave a shrug in response, not really sure how to respond.
"I brought a ball," he added, then saw that one of Cap's posse had one in his arms. "Just in case."
"Are you really the Fudou Akio from Shin Teikoku?" another of Cap's friends asked him a bit too eagerly, and he couldn't prevent his eyebrows from shooting up. Did his fame really precede him that much?
Cap laughed. "Fudou doesn't play much anymore. But he plays sometimes."
It quickly became apparent to all of them that he was (still) very good. And it was instantly obvious to him that Cap sucked, and that Shogo had barely played before. The others were all right, but more a ragtag bunch than an organised team. But then again, what had he expected? Another army?
The others never stopped reminding him of this fact.
"So what was playing in Shin Teikoku like, Fudou?" Cap's Friend 1 (because Fudou disliked him the most) asked him again with a stupid grin on his face. You'd think that he would have gotten the message that he didn't want to talk about it after the 10th dismissive grunt, but apparently not. Fudou grunted again, and took the fact that Cap's team was advancing down as an excuse to move away. Cap controlled the ball, though that was a very loose definition of the actual action, down the field, and Fudou relieved him of it with a simple tackle. The first time it happened, his mind stood still for a moment as he marvelled. It was still so easy.
He quickly fell into his natural role of playmaker, gesturing to his team to move up ahead of him. (While ignoring their stupid questions. "Was Shin Teikoku really in a submarine?" "Yes.") This suited all of them. They liked the glory of scoring goals, and he was the one who actually made that possible. Although there was a significant difference in their levels, he quickly got used to playing with them. They were irritating and asked him far too much about his past, but they made good runs and had a decent finishing ability. Needless to say, their team owned the pants off Cap's.
"Wanna stop?" Cap's Friend 2 asked Cap, and Fudou wanted to scream a loud and adamant No! While it wasn't exhilarating, this was the best time he'd had in a while (since the drug, his mind whispered insidiously). He felt as if he could run for ages and not get tired, but clearly the others didn't. A few of Cap's friends were bent over, panting and clutching their knees, and Shogo had been watching them from the sidelines for a while now. All of them had been running slower and playing less well as time passed.
He straightened up and stretched, waiting for the group to reach a conclusion.
"Fudou," a small voice—Shogo—said behind him, and he turned.
"What is it?"
The kid shuffled his feet back and forth, and Fudou had to wait patiently for his next words. "You were really good. I was kind of surprised. I had no idea." (Fudou tried not to feel offended at that. It did make sense.)
"Thanks." Fudou started to turn to see what Cap and the others were up to, but Shogo's insistent voice stopped him. "Wait."
"What is it?" he replied, frowning.
"Cap… isn't very good, is he?"
Fudou laughed out loud. "No, he sucks. But that matters fuck all."
"Can you teach me how to play?"
That took him off guard. "Well, if I get invited to more of these, sure," he finally said, glancing at Cap, who was still talking with his friends.
"Even if you don't come to these, I'll play with you. We can just meet up," Shogo insisted, and Fudou was almost touched. "Though I think they'll ask you again. I think they like you."
That was it. Fudou's mind was blown. He had been nothing but assholish throughout the entire session.
"I heard them talking, you know." Shogo's characteristic cheeky grin started to return. "They think you're really awesome. Though they say you don't talk much. It's true."
Fudou scoffed and turned away, but it was more to hide the growing smile on his face.
"Why do you play?" Fudou later asked Cap, who laughed.
"You're curious, because I suck? You're hurting my feelings." He reconsidered. "Though you'd do that anyway." Fudou smirked and didn't deny that.
Cap stretched out languorously. "I do it because it's fun. Why else would I?"
"Huh," Fudou grunted. He hadn't expected something so stupidly naive to come out of Cap's mouth at all. "You think it's fun to be beaten all the time?"
Cap laughed. "You would say something like that. Have you ever done anything that you're not good at before?"
"What?" To him, that concept was unthinkable. The whole point of trying something was to see if you were any good at it. If you were, it meant you had a talent in it. You were meant to do that. If you didn't, well, there were others who could take your place. Fudou just considered himself particularly talented.
Cap rose back upright and looked at Fudou. "You haven't, have you? That can't be true. That ain't right."
Fudou shrugged. "If I'm bad at it, I don't do it. It's not fun to suck."
"Ouch." Cap shrugged. "Well, if you say so."
"It's fun to win," Fudou said. "You play to win. That's all there is to it."
"Well," Cap turned away from Fudou now, and looked up towards the sky and the cars on the highway. "I play football because I like to run with my friends, and I like the feeling when I help the team score a goal. You're a good playmaker, so I thought you'd know that feeling. It's okay if I lose, as long as I did my best and had a good time. The most important thing is that I'm always improving."
Fudou scoffed. "Can it, man. You sound like a self-help book."
Cap smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm just adapting my material to my audience."
Next chapter: Danshichuugakusei no Nichijou (Daily Lives of Middle School Boys)
