Of the Nagas, only Unsui and Ikkyu (along with Hiruma and Agon, from external sources) get chocolate on Valentine's Day. It's an all-boys school. Most of them are too caught up with practice to date outside Shinryuuji and one thing led to another and...
"Unsui-san," Ikkyu says when he pulls him aside later, a little desperately, "for White Day, can you help me?"
"I- yes. Of course."
"I don't know how to make chocolate and it's oni rude not to retun some to Sanzo-san, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Unsui says, expression thoughtful. "You can probably just buy some, but-"
"But he went and hand-made this!" Ikkyu's looking down, almost in awe of the chocolate in his hands. It's heart-shaped and simple, delicately patterned on the surface. It's white chocolate, which not a whole lot of people outside of his siblings know he likes, and meticulously wrapped.
Unsui's is dark chocolate, and smaller, only very slightly sweet, the natural bitterness still shining through. He watches his diet and doesn't do well with sweets and that's something only Agon really knows, and he's sure Sanzo didn't go and ask him. Then again, when he and Ikkyu had taken the chocolates out of their respective shoe lockers that morning, Hiruma had nearly broken a rib laughing. Mystery solved.
It's incredibly thoughtful though, and their runner had gone and made two batches of two different kinds of chocolate, and probably two different molds and even different color icing for their names, and Unsui would feel pretty guilty if he just got him store-bought chocolates in return. Though he's not honestly sure of the protocol involved at an all-boys' school.
"Yeah. One of Agon's girlfriends asked me to help her out yesterday, so I have a pretty good idea of how to..." Unsui trails off, trying to ignore Ikkyu's half-jealous, half-awed stare. "Anyway, it's not too difficult. Do you know what kind he likes?"
"No," Ikkyu says despondently, "and I don't want to ask Hiruma-san."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Agon says later as he walks into Aya's kitchen with his arm around her waist.
She smiles at him, runs a finger down his chest and lets her head drop onto his shoulder. "Unsui-kun asked to borrow my kitchen. He helped me out last week when I was making chocolates for you, you know."
"I ate Unko-chan's chocolate? That's fucking disgusting."
"I just helped carry the supplies," Unsui replied. He'd told her things Agon never bothered to, that Agon doesn't like sweets and he likes the taste of coffee, and that if she really wants to get him a present he'd like that won't cost a fortune, that he could use some more lenses for his Juliets. She's sweet, smart and thoughtful and rich, which is probably why Agon hasn't stopped talking to her a week after the holiday. He's also wearing his new emerald iridium-tinted lenses.
Unsui knows how to use his resources, too; they can help each other out. Ikkyu looks up from the cookbook, whisk in hand, face flushing but determined to look cool in front of the cute girl. "Hi, Agon-san."
"I left my phone here," Aya says sheepishly, "and we were close."
Agon leans against the counter when she ducks into her bedroom, dips his finger into the big red bowl of chocolate and tastes it. "Oi, Unko, save some for me."
"How many?" Unsui asks automatically, because Agon's never just seeing one girl at any point in time, and they do have quite a lot of extra chocolate.
"Four for the ones that aren't complete wastes of my time."
Ikkyu's lips are pressed together in a thin line, determined not to let anything slip. When Agon and Aya leave, he says plaintively, "Unsui-san," and puts the whisk back into the bowl.
"I know," Unsui says, and they leave it at that.
Hiruma shows up with a camera when they're finishing up some football-shaped chocolate for Sanzo and four heart-shaped ones for Agon, snapping pictures furiously and complaining that it's no fun if Unsui is completely undisturbed at the thought of photos of him in an apron pouring chocolate into a heart-shaped mold floating around. Ikkyu, conversely, is suitably mortified.
First time in the history of Shinryuuji, coach says on the last day of practice for the school year, and Unsui looks over at Hiruma, who grins back. The new co-captains are Yoichi and Unsui.
"Did you hear that, fucking team?!" Hiruma screeches, whipping a machine gun from behind his back and firing it off in the air while coach looks on, an expression of resignation on his face.
"Ah, well, it went as we expected, right? They've pretty much been running the show from the start," Gojyo mutters to the rest of the Saiyuki Trio.
"That's our cue to get back to practice," Unsui says, discreetly high-fiving the hand Hiruma extends to him behind his back. "I'll be in the gym with defense," he adds, because Hiruma's an offensive powerhouse and defense bores him and everyone knows it, "anyone who plays both, stick with Hiruma. There aren't enough machines to handle all of us."
"Fucking old man, go with the defense," Hiruma says to Musashi, idly twirling a shotgun. "When was the last time you checked your benchpress?"
"Second year middle school," he replies, and takes off with Unsui.
"A hundred kilos," Unsui says later, as Musashi sets the bar back down onto the rack, "and you're a kicker?"
"I help my dad with construction and played line at Maoh too," Musashi clarifies. "Not enough players."
"If you don't mind backing up the line sometimes, you're stronger than any of the second string." Unsui jots something down on a clipboard, sets it down on a nearby bench and nods. "But we'll need to keep your stamina up for kicks, so only in emergencies."
"Yeah," Musashi says, "that's what Hiruma said too."
"Good." Unsui doesn't foresee many problems between him and Hiruma; the way they play their cards is different, but Hiruma likes numbers and statistics even more than he does. The Shinryuuji Naga rarely have to rely on trick plays, but the Fall Tournament next year won't be so easy that Unsui can rely on their sure things and steady, relentless advance.
"Hey, Unsui."
"What is it?"
"Congratulations on making captain."
"Aah, thanks. I won't let the team down."
"Good," Musashi says, expression serious, "because we need to talk."
Unsui waits for the team to gather in the locker room after practice. He changes out of his jersey and into some casual clothes instead of the Shinryuuji robes, which is a Big Deal for a student who's rarely out of uniform. Everyone's watching him out of the corners of their eyes when he picks up his cleats and does his customary check of the spikes and seams. Unsui's shoes are always meticulously kept; he has a pair for every kind of weather and field, and in the year he's been at Shinryuuji, he's one of only a few Nagas who have never employed their password.
Today, he easily pops a spike out from the heel of his cleats, then two others, frowning. He never was the type to make an excuse, but he's too careful with his equipment to make this kind of timing an accident.
"Hiruma," he calls across the locker room, "how are your spikes?"
"Falling apart, fucking monk," and the sound of a clip locking into the mag of the gun Hiruma managed to sneak in is audible even across the deadly silent changing area, "just like everyone else's."
Unsui nods, expression set as usual. "I think it's about time we got new ones," he says, "break them in over the summer and when practice starts again, they'll be good to go."
There's a collective groan; of course Unsui would take even this seriously. He rarely passes on the occasions the team announces shoe-shopping trips (really codeword for "I need protein!")- cooperation exercises are always helpful- but he also never initiates them. Leave it to serious, responsible Unsui to turn dinner into a football excursion.
Kurita says later, as they're walking to dinner ahead of the rest of the team. "Congratulations, Unsui-kun!"
"Hiruma-san too," Ikkyu chimes in. "Though I don't think anyone was surprised at all."
Musashi's walking ahead of the group, hands deep in his pockets, but he looks over his shoulder and grins at the four walking behind. "Hurry up. The reservation only lasts for another ten minutes."
"It's your treat, fucking monk," Hiruma says, elbowing Unsui in the shoulder. "Kekeke, we can finally eat something besides that shitty vegetarian food."
Unsui knows Hiruma had already paid off the tab, but he's been sworn to secrecy so he doesn't mention it, only pins him with a steady, amused look while Hiruma refuses to meet his eyes. As they're turning the corner, the door to an apartment building slams open- Agon falls into step beside Unsui and throws an arm over his shoulders. "Yo, Unko," he drawls, "all-you-can-eat, right?"
Unsui nods, not even surprised that his twin had heard about this despite having not shown up for practice. "The place you went last week."
"Dropping out to help my father's company while he's in the hospital," Musashi repeats to a silent table. "I'm going back to Tokyo."
"He told me about it and I talked to Coach," Unsui adds, hands resting on his knees. "We still have a kicker, but he won't have Musashi's power. Hiruma and I will adjust the lineup as needed."
Hiruma's teeth clench and Unsui thinks he can almost hear them grinding. Kurita's uncharacteristically quiet.
"What a fucking waste of time," Agon snorts, brushing his hair out of his face before snapping up a perfectly-seared piece of meat still sizzling on the grill. He looks across the table, not at Musashi but at Unsui, as if telling him that it looks like he's not the only idiot holding himself back for someone else's sake, and see how much it fucking sucks, Unko-chan?
Unsui looks at Hiruma instead. He had to know that this was coming, though probably not so soon. Musashi had been trying to put off his return for as long as possible, but his father had collapsed that morning- he had delayed heading home for the day, but only because it would be the last time.
"Fucking old man," Hiruma says, and Unsui can see the gears in his 500-kilometer-a-second brain turning, and turning, and coming up with nothing.
Unsui doesn't try to stop him when he kicks the bench over, after Musashi's left, helmets and water bottles and all, or when he starts kicking the lockers, leaving shoe-shaped dents in the thin metal. Kurita does; he's shouting Hiruma's name, begging him to stop, even though Unsui's sure he wants to join the other quarterback in his methodic destruction of the Naga locker room.
It's when Hiruma starts slamming his fists against the lockers that Unsui catches his wrists, holding them down with probably more force than strictly necessary.
"The fuck do you think you're doing," Hiruma snarls, but he doesn't try to struggle out of his grip, fully aware of the 20kg difference in their bench presses even when he's trying to rampage.
"You're our quarterback." Practical as ever, understanding but firm, Unsui says, "Get it out of your system, but don't take it out on your hands."
Hiruma's voice is hoarse, throat scratchy from screaming and he hisses back, "What do you know, you fucking monk?"
Kurita's crying, but that's not new. He's always bounced back, but Hiruma's a different story. This is the first time Unsui's ever seen Hiruma helpless, and he decides that he doesn't like it; doesn't like knowing that there's no solution he can whip out of his threat notebook or a way to bluff through this situation in a way that'll get Musashi back on the team. Unsui doesn't know what it's like, to be Hiruma.
He hasn't made many close friends like Hiruma and Musashi and Kurita; the closest anyone could have come is Agon, and they haven't been close since before they started middle school. Hiruma knows it as well as anyone could know. "I don't have to know anything," Unsui says (and he thinks back to the last thing Musashi said to him, Don't let that idiot do anything stupid), "the only thing we can do is keep winning until he's back on the field with us."
The next day, Unsui's taking his time between classes the day before spring break and the third-years' graduation ceremony, and he's walking past the chemistry room when Hiruma pops out of it, foot aimed squarely at his ass. Hiruma walks away without a word, turns the corner and he's back to form during a quick team meeting between freshmen Nagas that afternoon.
Unsui, on the other hand, has to sit carefully during meditation class and gets scolded for shifting around too much.