Isagi Kaiser Ness

at first, it was quiet. the kind of rare, precious silence that only happened after a long day—post-practice exhaustion hanging in the air like fog. you were already under your blanket, lying on your side, eyes closed, one ear pressed into the pillow. barely awake. on the edge of sweet unconsciousness. and then: “isagi, are you seriously gonna keep sulking over that goal?” kaiser’s voice cut in smooth and sharp like a knife through glass. you didn’t move. you knew what was coming. you’d seen this play before. “isagi, come on. we’re not doing this again,” you thought silently to yourself, like praying could stop it. “i’m not sulking,” isagi bit back. already defensive. already fired up. “i’m pointing out that you cut in front of me again. after we literally talked about spacing this morning.” kaiser scoffed from across the room. “and i scored. shocking how that works.” you rolled to your other side and buried your face in the pillow. “you only scored because ness cleaned it up when you missed the first shot,” isagi snapped. “you’re not a genius, kaiser. you’re a freeloader with a fan club.” perfect. you knew that was the exact sentence that would trigger— creak. the dorm room door opened slowly. ness peeked in with his usual half-dreamy smile and the soft shuffle of socked feet. hair tousled, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, holding a bottle of strawberry milk like it was sacred. “huh?” he blinked, stepping in fully. “were you guys talking about me?” your hand twitched under the blanket. the timing was almost supernatural. “ness, can you please explain to your “boyfriend”how to stay in position for once?” isagi said, hands gesturing wildly in the dim light. ness blinked slowly. “but… he did stay in position. his position.” he turned and gave kaiser a devoted smile. “right where the spotlight hits.” kaiser smirked from his bed, legs stretched out, arms behind his head like he was sunbathing in his own ego. “see? validation. from someone who knows what they’re talking about.” you resisted the urge to groan out loud. instead, you pulled the blanket higher. “he’s not validating you, he’s enabling you,” isagi shot back. “ness is just happy to chase behind you cleaning up your messes.” ness tilted his head. “i don’t mind~” he said it so cheerfully, like being insulted was a compliment. “you should mind,” isagi muttered. “you’re supposed to be a midfielder, not a golden retriever.” kaiser leaned up on one elbow. “says the guy whose entire strategy is built around chasing people who are better than him.” that got isagi riled. again. “i’m building plays, not chasing clout—unlike you. if you’re so great, why does ness have to trail you like a safety net every time?” kaiser laughed, slow and low. then he turned, looked past isagi and straight in the direction of your bed— and dropped the bomb. “you want proof you’re insufferable?” he said, voice casual and smug. “even she’d rather pretend to be asleep than talk to you.” silence. for a beat. then ness gasped, dramatic, pressing a hand to his chest. “kaiser! don’t drag her into this!” kaiser shrugged. “am i wrong?” isagi blinked and turned toward your bed like you were suddenly a live witness. “wait—are you even awake?” you didn’t move. not an inch. you were a statue. a blanket-covered ghost. not here. not involved. not interested. god, please don’t make this your problem. “you traumatized her,” kaiser continued, sounding weirdly pleased with himself. “look at her. full fetal position. probably questioning her life choices.” ness, now standing beside your bed, crouched slightly and whispered, “are you okay? do you need strawberry milk?” you didn’t respond. you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. behind you, isagi groaned and flopped onto his bed. “i swear, i’m surrounded by idiots.” “wrong,” kaiser said, lying back down with a smug stretch. “you’re surrounded by winners. and ness.” ness smiled proudly. “i’m part of the aesthetic.” same dorm. same idiots. now with ness, milk, and public humiliation.