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33.THE WORLD 5
note: i'm still pissy about how the anime took lines from them ESPECIALLY LOKI (he literally has like 5 lines in the anime bye) so I'm using the manga for the majority of this part.
if u saw this earlier. im publishing it again bc whenever i do a double update nobody reads it grrr so im doing it again
*⋆｡˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆｡°✩
YOU
ring out your hair over the sink, then wrap a towel around your shoulders before walking out of the shower room, slipping on your slippers and looking around your new bedroom. Shared with six other people.
You meet Komi's eyes, and both have a silent conversation—as soon as you nod towards her, she leaves and goes into the shower room. It doesn't take too long until you hear the warm water start running again. You sit on a bed beside Bachira, and he gives you a grin when he meets your eyes.
"Oh, hey, [name]." Isagi greets you, and you give him a curt nod in response. You turn your attention towards the television, with a picture of the World 5, and Tokimitsu seems to be geeking out about this subject, given how excited his voice was and how he was blushing.
"That's Luna! The Scion of Royale! The illustrious Spanish club!" Toki points at the blonde, green-eyed man. You weren't the biggest soccer fan in the world, so you didn't really know too many players (really, the only ones you were aware of were the super popular ones, like Noel Noa... and... Noel Noa).
You decided this would be a great learning experience for you. Toki then motions towards a player with a nasty glare and a half-shaven beard, "And Adam Blake! The top scorer in the English league!"
"World-class free-kicker, the freckly Pablo Cabasoz!"
"And the hungry heavy tank from Brazil! Dada Silva!"
Tokimitsu's hands fly over his face and he looks like he has just witnessed a friggin' satanic possession from how frightened he looks, "Oh jeez, this is nuts! Their team's made up of the world's best strikers!"
"Such a glam memory—" you have to physically suck in a breath to stop yourself from laughing at Aryu's appearance. His hair is tied up with a towel, and you mistake him as bald for a second. Without his hair, he's almost unrecognisable. "—are you some kind of soccer facts nerd?"
"The idea of facing them is making me both excited and terrified," Bachira giggles, and you don't notice how your legs are touching until then—in fact, you hadn't realised you two had gotten so close together. You thought you left at least a little distance between you both. You're so close next to him, that every time he rubs his towel over his damp hair, his elbow bumps into your cheek. "I don't know the guy in the middle with the shaved head, though."
