𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦 || Blue Lock x GN!Reader

✮ 18.

Two weeks zoomed by in a blur and before either knew it, Blue Lock was about to start again. The pair had spent the last weeks hanging out with friends like those from the program and those from the U20 as well as doing whatever couples (?) did. Well, it wasn't exactly official, but (Y/N) doubted regular best friends took drives out to kiss or cuddle under the moonlight regularly.

Speaking of which, that's where the duo was again, at that outcropping over the beach. Tonight was of more subdued conversation and more stargazing, both relishing their last snags of freedom before they were enveloped in the pentagonal walls of the Blue Lock facility again.

Each held an ice-cold soda in hand–courtesy of Oliver and his cooler–and were sipping them happily, leaned back in the convertible's cushy seats. Perhaps it was just because (Y/N) knew what might come next, but they thought the stars gleamed brighter than usual.

Over the past little while, they'd been thinking rather much about all sorts of things from Kaiser to school to Oliver, all the thoughts churning in a collective acceptance. For the first time in their life, they thought that they were at peace with the world, accepting the hardships that it threw at them in every which way. Maybe that was why they didn't want this to end.

"Hey," they said, their voice slightly hoarse from not using it much all night. (Y/N)'s eyes were still on the sky, spotting the constellations Orion and Aries as they rotated slowly in the twilight. Oliver had an unconscious grin on his face, also looking at the stars as he echoed, "Hey."

"We start again tomorrow," they stated, their irises reflecting the light of the heavens above. Oliver nodded in assent, sighing as he flexed his knuckles, trying to etch the feeling of not being sore back into his mind before Snuffy beat him into a bloody pulp with all the work he'd have to do.

"We do," he hummed in a sing-song voice, "You excited?" (Y/N)'s face impinged on a frown, their finger tapping the half-empty soda bottle in their hand with thought. The waves filled the gap between Oliver's question and his partner's response, "No, not really."

"Yeah, me neither," the captain snickered, starting to count various things on his fingers, "First, there'll be stupid hard training, then stupid people, that bowl-cut dude and not to mention that blonde bitch-"(Y/N) spoke up from their trance suddenly, squeezing the aluminum can in their hand convulsively.

"I'm not going back." They said simply, letting their words hang in the silence that followed, their gaze still focused on the stars though Oliver was boring holes in them with his eyes. The defender paused, midway from taking a sip of his soda before gawking openly.

"What?" He asked, incredulous. Instantly, (Y/N) had a strong surge of déjà vu sweep them over. Involuntarily, they flinched away slightly from their companion, remembering the thud of their body against lockers all too well. Oliver wasn't like that though... right? He'd never do anything of the sort. The defender saw their reaction and added quickly, "Sorry, that came out really harsh... why aren't you coming back to Blue Lock?"

(Y/N) was quiet for a long while before they sighed, shifting their eyes back to the sea on the earth on which they were confined. Finally, the ability to talk returned to them and they spoke their mind, spoke the truth that'd been haunting them for so long, "I don't... think soccer is the thing for me. I guess you could say I'm quitting... again."

They closed their eyes, feeling bittersweet as they braced themselves for the onslaught of questions and demands that they come back. Expecting guilt-tripping and insults, (Y/N) was almost taken back when Oliver spoke again, his voice still gentle and soft as ever.

"Well, I mean... if that's what you want," Oliver sighed, his words coming out a bit more choppy than usual, "I'm not gonna lie though, I'll miss playing with you." (Y/N) turned to him, making eye contact for the first time in a while. Their (E/C) eyes met his heterochromia ones, a mixture of incredulous surprise and gratefulness writing within their gaze.