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06.HERO
*⋆｡˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆｡°✩
IT'S
hard for you to realise what time it is by now. Since there aren't an abundance of windows here in Blue Lock, you either have to check your phone (which in itself, is something you aren't really used to doing) or just plainly guess based on how tired you are. Right now, of all times, you are feeling really tired. So, it must be late.
You check your phone. 9:57 pm.
But you can't go to sleep, not yet. Your duty as a manager comes before sleep—but not before eyebags—and this is your duty. You write down your notes as fast as you can—trying to keep up with their conversation—which ends up looking more like scribble than actual handwriting.
A conversation like this was not one you could easily spark up, nor was it one that you could involve yourself in (not like you could involve yourself in many conversations, anyway) so this opportunity was rare—legendary, even. A conversation about skills. For once, you did not need to use your master deduction skills to work out who is good at what, and you can finally hear it straight up from them with no extra work.
You needed to use this.
Isagi is unsure of his ability, and ignoring a rude comment from Raichi, you move on to the next person—writing down their name...
Chigiri. Kuon peers over at your notebook—as he was generally the one you felt you could trust the most—and asks Chigiri what his talent is.
"I'm... not saying," he mumbles, digging his face into his knees.
"What the hell man? If pretty boy here wants to be selfish, let's keep going," Raichi hisses narrowing his eyes at Chigiri, then at the next person.
You peer down at your notebook, reading the words over and over until a shifting catches your eye. While the others talk, Bachira is dead asleep, laid across multiple beddings and his head right next to your knee. He shifts a little, clearly still sleeping, so his cheek is pressed right up against your bare calf. It wouldn't be as uncomfortable if you were wearing pants, but tonight (of all night) you decided to wear shorts.
You shift away, paying no mind to it, until he moves closer again.
You shift backwards. And he follows.
Again. And again. And again. To the point, you seriously doubt if he is sleeping or not, and you feel so fed up with him that you just stop moving, and let him get what his (maybe) unconscious self wants. It's too much of a bother to keep moving back—and you don't want to draw any weird attention.
