Archive of Our Own

The week was normal, very normal.

Just like every other day in the world, Hiori woke up with the bright lights flashing on in the dorm. Normally though, he’d push the covers off, make his bed, and shuffle off to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. 

Okay, maybe today wasn’t like every other day in the world, because despite getting a little over seven hours of sleep, Hiori felt exhausted. Far more exhausted than usual for him. Growing up in that house meant that sore muscles and after lasting fatigue was something he was extremely used to. 

But today, as he went to shove his blanket off and stretch the sleep stiffness away, everything hurt real bad. His spine popped loudly as Hiori raised his arms above his head, and a dull ache spread through his biceps at the motion.

“Who’s breaking bones this early in the morning?” One of his roommates mumbled.

Guess the sound echoed…

“Uh, it’s nothin’,” Hiori replied, brushing off the event before any weakness was shown. “Just a little stiff.”

And it probably was nothing. He probably just pushed himself a little too much during the prior day’s training. Noa wasn’t exactly a tame coach, pushing the entire team to their limits day after day was bound to catch up with them sooner or later.

Guess for Hiori, it’s today.

He groaned as he swung his feet off the bed and waited for a moment before standing. God, his thighs felt awful. He should roll them out on the textured foam roller before morning stretches.

That is if his arms could stand to have the weight of his body…

Hiori nearly shook at the physical effort it took to spread the sheets over the mattress. Tucking them in was even more of an effort because it meant climbing on the bed. And now his legs were shaking too.

Well this is just fantastic isn’t it?

“Imma go brush my teeth,” Hiori announced through his cringe, doing his best not to limp as he shuffled out of the room.

Blue Lock was an interesting place to be, what with all the people, no real outside, fifty muted scents that mingled together. And of course, no parents. For a while, no adults, at least outside of Ego, who barely counted in nearly everyone’s opinions. And Noa wasn’t the type to just give out any sort of parental support, so he doesn’t really count either.

Keeping a routine was something Hiori did his best to maintain while here. Blue Lock was an escape, and in order to keep escaping, he needed to thrive as best he could. Even if that meant doing things he hated, like playing soccer in the first place, or continuing his rigid training schedule in the facility.

And if he near groaned while brushing his teeth and scrubbing his face clean of any bits of sleep sweat or dried drool, so what?

That was his business, no weakness must be shown. Especially since he didn’t have an excuse like some of the others. He was a beta, and that meant he was effectively “normal” by evolutionary standards. No special periods of the year to blame for any weakness, just his own body being a quitter.

Hiori had illogically assumed that everything would go away once it hit time for practice. Even as his wrists decided that lifting his chopsticks was the most difficult effort that he could ever do. Even as pain rippled through his legs at the foam roller massage. Even as the tight fabric of the Blue Lock standard uniforms compressed his muscles in a way that constantly reminded Hiori of how sore he was.

He’d pick up some icy hot cream from someone, that always helps. Damn, why the hell does it hurt this bad?

It didn’t get better by practice. Not by a long shot.

Passing shot electric jolts up his left leg at the impact of the ball. Receiving meant a lingering throb wherever the ball hit. Hiori almost felt like he’d forget how to breathe when a wild pass from Raichi hit his chest. 

But still, he remained as calm and collected as he normally was. He did his best to keep up appearances, teasing his friends when it felt appropriate, otherwise remaining stoic and calculating.

Don’t show weakness. That’s a surefire way to get booted straight out of Blue Lock. Get sent back home. Where weakness was tolerated even less.

Hiori bit back a shudder at the thought. If he was this sore and tired back there, his mother would have yelled about how his body should be able to handle this. How a little pain is good for the system, builds stronger muscles. Tear and rebuild, get sore and take longer to be sore again. Rebuild and rebuild. Push and push.

Until you’re unbreakable. Infallible. The perfect striker. The perfect child.

He barely registered anything by the time lunch came around. If the audible groan of relief was any indication, morning practice pushed Hiori nearly to his limits. And it was only 11:45. He was just barely walking by the time he retrieved his lunch tray and sat down next to Isagi.

His body screamed, his head throbbed. Did he drink enough water? Hiori was sure he had been taking the necessary sips. Why was everything hurting like he’d been hit by a bus?

He barely registered the mess hall, the table, the metal bench that was cold under his thighs. The chopsticks in his hand felt both weightless and like they weighed a million kilograms. His vision grew dim, the surroundings faded away as his head fell forwards and jerked back up.

God, he could just fall asleep right there and now…

“Hiori?” Isagi’s voice cut through the pleasant static that had muted the sounds of people talking and dishes clinking. “Are you alright?”

“I’m awake!” Hiori exclaimed, probably way louder than needed.

“I mean,” he started, embarrassed. “‘M fine, just tired.”

Isagi squinted, in the way that only he could. When he was psychoanalyzing every little detail. Hiori wished that Isagi kept that little ability to the field and the field alone, trying his best not to shrink under the pressing gaze.

Wait.

Huh?

Why did this feel like an intimidation? Sure, Isagi was looking at him all intensely, but it shouldn’t feel any different than the other times he tried to read Hiori. They were friends, not to mention both betas. This type of thing shouldn’t have an effect that has Hiori feel like he’s being suffocated.

“Would’ya stop lookin’ at me like that?” Hiori scoffed, forcing a smile to his face. “I had a restless night, i’s not a crime. Not like I’m sneakin’ out to midnight practices or anything.”

Except he hadn’t had a restless night. Hiori had slept stiff as a board, especially if his cramped spine and lower back were any indication. He usually slept on his side, but he’d woken up on his back. Probably stayed that way the whole night. Yeah, that’s why he’s so sore, unusual sleeping position.

Isagi raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. But he smiled back and elbowed Hiori in the shoulder. Hiori forced himself not to wince at the shock from the contact, instead redirecting that energy to a laugh. 

Redirect. Hide. Conceal. Nothing’s wrong.

The rest of the day hadn’t got any better. Hiori was slacking for the more intense training, lagging behind during running, missing the target at aim and range practice, and nearly collapsing when it was time for a water break.

By dinner, he was so exhausted and so in pain that Hiori laid his head down on the table, ignoring any question that came his way as he grit his teeth and waited for the building pain to go away and leave him be.

Isagi wasn’t the only one to notice that he was dragging. A few other team members had asked what was up, but Hiori gave them the same excuse he gave to Isagi, that he hadn’t slept well and was dealing with the consequences. 

He wasn’t sick, he knew that for a fact. Every time Hiori got sick, his shoulders got incredibly itchy. A weird side effect, but it was helpful for situations like this where he wasn’t sure what was even going on.

With sickness ruled out, he had two options. Sore from overworking himself or sore from poor sleeping positions. Maybe a combination?

Whatever the case, Hiori went to bed feeling worse than he had when he woke up. Kurona had the icy hot cream, which Hiori liberally rubbed into his skin after showering off. Showering both felt incredibly good and incredibly horrible. The water felt nice on his sore body, but the act of washing up was excruciating.

He curled up in bed almost immediately after returning to the room, not even bothering to dry his hair. In a small slip of routine, he held his pillow close to his chest for comfort as the cream began to burn. 

Hopefully he felt better the next day. 

Hiori did not feel better the next day. Somehow, everything felt worse than it had the day before. When the lights flicked on, he winced and ducked under the covers to shield himself from them. His whole body felt like it was going to implode, and his head throbbed with searing pain. 

He heard his roommates shuffling around, making their beds and stretching. He heard the alarm go off, announcing the time of seven in the morning. He heard the muffled sounds of “good morning” greetings being passed around the room. And most surprisingly of all, he smelled his roommates.

Hiori knew vaguely what they all smelled like. Isagi smelled like rain and freshly cut grass, Kurona smelled like salted caramel, and Gagamaru smelled like soil and pine. He knew vaguely because betas didn’t have a strong sense of smell for scents.

But today, the smells felt overwhelming, mainly the pine and caramel ones. Hiori cupped his hand over his nose to block them out, but it didn’t work. Literally what the actual hell was going on? This isn’t normal. This can’t be normal.

But nothing’s going on, nothing can be going on. This was just a fluke. It had to be. He’s a beta, and betas don’t really smell other people this much.

Someone must’ve gotten really aggressive with scenting. That had to be the explanation. There was no other one Hiori could come up with to explain why he was suddenly so sensitive to smells.

Something nudged his shoulder, and Hiori had half a mind to shrink in on himself, wanting to curl tighter into a ball. But instead, he forced himself to be normal, to push back the covers and be greeted by the familiar muted smell of grass and rain. Muted, as it should be. Thank god.

“Are you sick?” Isagi asked, brushing the back of his hand on Hiori’s forehead.

His hand was cool, and Hiori wanted to lean into the touch. But he didn’t. He’s not sick or anything, he’s just being weird.

“Nah, my shoulders get itchy when I’m sick,” he replied, almost giggling at the confused expression from his friend. 

“That’s… weird, what? Okay,” Isagi collected himself. “Then what’s going on? You’re always the first one out of bed.”

Hiori gripped his pillow tightly in one hand. Weakness, that’s what’s being shown. But he trusts Isagi, because he’s his friend. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize anyone. Well, maybe Kaiser, the two hate each other. But he wouldn’t do anything to Hiori, even if he doesn’t know what his home life is like and why he needs to stay

“Everythin’s sore,” Hiori admitted quietly. “Yesterday was awful, an’ today is worse.”

Isagi frowned.

“Then take it easy, don’t hurt yourself. We need you and your brilliant passes.”

Take it easy? No. He can’t.

Hiori pushed himself to sit, ignoring the way his spine cracked.

“If I start slackin’, there’s no way in hell Noa’ll put me in next game,” he said, doing his best to sound like his normal self.

At this, Isagi laughed and stood up, offering a hand to Hiori, which he took gratefully. But maybe standing up was a mistake. Because the second his feet hit the ground, Hiori’s knees buckled and he stumbled forwards. Isagi put a hand on his chest to stop the fall, but that sent a shiver through Hiori’s whole body.

Fuck.

What is going on?

Yesterday, Hiori could barely eat anything with how tired he was. But today, he can’t seem to get enough.

It was way more difficult than it should be to stop himself from just shoving rice in his face. And he’d drained the bowl of miso soup almost as soon as he sat down. The eggs had vanished too at some point, but Hiori didn’t remember eating those.

Could lunch come quick already? It’s a right shame that Blue Lock doesn’t give them seconds on meals. At least the protein shake dispensers never seemed to run out.

“I’m makin’ up fer yesterday,” was Hiori’s excuse when asked why he practically inhaled breakfast. 

Admittedly, he was slightly embarrassed that this apparently caught folks’ attention. Why were they even focusing on his eating habits anyways? They should be concerned about their own diets. Not about how weird Hiori is behaving.

He could barely manage the foam roller this morning. His body screamed for some sort of pain relief, and there was only so much the icy hot could do to alleviate the discomfort. Sliding back and forth in a plank made his arms ache, and flipping over to a hollow didn’t help, if anything, it felt worse.

Hiori tried not to focus on it. He tried to focus on keeping up with the other members of the team during running. Calculating the perfect angle for his shots. Holding his arms up and not sitting down during breaks and water.

Yet everything still hurt, and by now his leg was cramping up.

And then finally, it was lunch.

Even though he swayed while walking, Hiori grabbed his tray and joined the little group he always sat with for meals. The tray made a thunk on the table when he set it down a little too hard, just wanting to give his arms a break. 

The bright lights in the facility had been beaming down on him all day, slowly making his headache worse and worse. If he was less of a coward, Hiori would’ve gone and asked for painkillers, but that would be admitting he wasn’t doing so hot, which would jeopardize his chance of finally being put in the next game.

No, he couldn’t do that. He needed to be put in so that he could be seen. So that he could finally have a salary given to him. So that he’d be able to never go back to his family again.

Isagi leaned over.

“Are you doing okay?”

Hiori nodded through a mouthful of vegetables. He waited a moment before speaking, talking with your mouth full is rude in his opinion.

“‘M fine, everythin’ hurts real bad, but I’m fine.”

He wasn’t.

His head was pounding, his senses were overwhelmed by smells and sounds being much more prominent than they usually were, and his body felt just downright terrible.

The scent situation hadn’t improved. At one point, the combined smells of the team had made Hiori want to throw up from how strong they were. Too much pine, too much saltwater, too much cinnamon, too much, too much, too much. He wanted to go back to yesterday when his biggest problem was trying to stay awake at lunch.

“I’m sure I’ll be right as rain tomorrow,” he added, just before shoving more vegetables into his mouth.

By the time the day ended, Hiori was ready for everything to be over. For the pain to go away, for his headache to stop, for all the smells to fade back to the way they used to be. 

He was tired of this, and it was only two days. He needed to be stronger than this.

He wanted to hide from everyone. Hiori didn’t miss his house, but right now, he missed his room and video games. He missed his headphones and fuzzy pajamas. If only he could log into PubG and wipe the floor with the opponents, that never failed to distract and unwind him. Or load up Borderlands, perhaps? But sadly, his computer and game systems were back home, and Blue Lock WiFi didn’t work all that great for mobile gaming, so Hiori was stuck with silly little games that were pretty under stimulating.

Not that he could even bear to look at his phone without shooting pain in his head. He should probably invest in some blue light glasses when he got the chance, best protect his eyes from damage.

He massaged the icy hot practically everywhere before pulling on the loungewear. Kurona helped him reach the places on his back he couldn’t reach, which was slightly embarrassing because Hiori hadn’t even asked for help. Kurona was the one who offered, and Hiori was just so tired and sore that he couldn’t refuse.

And now he smelled like wintergreen from the cream, and salted caramel from Kurona’s wrists brushing against his shoulders from applying said cream.

The overwhelming sweetness of it made Hiori want to gag. He wasn’t all that fond of sweets to begin with, but his headache seemed to be progressing into migraine territory, and nausea was beginning to set it. He held a hand over his mouth, but it smelled of the wintergreen cream and backfired, actually making him gag.

Hiori withdrew his hand immediately and snatched his water bottle from the ground next to him. He knew he shouldn’t chug it, that he should take slow and even sips, but his mouth was already filling with saliva and his stomach churned. So he drank what remained in the bottle in rapid gulps, desperately hoping that it would push back the building nausea.

Of course, all the water did was sit heavy in his stomach. And there was a weird metallic aftertaste from the bottle. Fuck, it didn’t taste right. It just made everything worse.

Hiori covered his mouth again as his chest lurched.

Oh shit, he was gonna throw up.

As fast as he could, Hiori shoved off the ground and to his feet, half speed walking, half jogging to the bathroom. His stomach churned again with the movement, sloshing around half a bottle’s worth of water and the sizable dinner he’d eaten.

His nose was still overwhelmed with wintergreen, Kurona’s salted caramel, and now the stale smell of sweat from the halls. He coughed into his hand as he pushed into the bathroom, making a beeline for the furthest stall from the door.

Hiori was sweating profusely and his skin burned from the cream. He was hot and freezing. His throat was clogged and his head swam both from the migraine and the assault on his senses.

His sore legs gave out just as he locked the door, and Hiori had to basically drag himself to the toilet.

This sucked. He wasn’t sick, so why did he feel so fucking awful?

With one arm braced on the seat so he could rest his forehead, Hiori uncovered his mouth and pushed his bangs back so they wouldn’t get anything on them. His stomach clenched at the musty smell of toilet water, only making him feel worse.

For a few minutes, he did nothing but cough and spit into the water, interrupted by the occasional gag. As much as he hated getting sick, Hiori just wanted to throw up and have it be over because this part was the worst of it all.

And luckily, it didn’t take much longer for his pleas to be answered. His mouth filled with the acidic taste of bile, and soon after, he coughed up a bit of stomach acid. And like that, the dam broke, and Hiori gagged up mouthful after mouthful of half digested food and water. 

He was shaking, sweating so much that his shirt felt damp. The vomit burned his mouth, nose, and throat, bringing tears to his eyes. He didn’t know if the burning in his nose was from the smell, or if bile had actually come out of it, but it didn’t matter at this point. All Hiori wanted was for today to end.

The smell of everything made the whole ordeal even worse, and had Hiori dry heaving for a while after his stomach was empty. He managed to reach up with a shaky arm to flush. He didn’t move for a minute, just in case his body decided that there would be a round two, which he desperately hoped not. Thankfully, it seemed to be over, though he didn’t feel much better at all. 

Hiori slumped to the ground, shivering and clutching at his sides. He haphazardly rubbed his nose on his knee to wipe away whatever was dripping out of it. The burning from the icy hot had faded away, and now all he felt was ice cold all over. Silently, Hiori sat on the floor of the bathroom stall for ten minutes, just hoping to whatever god was out there that no one would come in until he could compose himself.

The aftertaste was terrible, and threatened to make him sick again, and Hiori had enough. Slowly, he forced himself to uncurl and used the wall as support to stand up.

He felt like crap. He felt disgusting. And everything still hurt something awful.

Hiori unlocked the door and staggered out to the sinks, rinsing out his mouth and then brushing his teeth. For longer than needed. He just wanted to be rid of the horrible acid. He needed to drink something, he knew that, he’d just lost a lot of fluids and that’ll make his headache worse. But the water tasted weird, and the thought of it made his empty stomach churn with the ghost of what used to be in there.

He needed to change, probably should shower again, but he was too exhausted to even consider that. He wanted sleep.

When Hiori got back to his dorm, all three of his roommates were already there. He tried not to bring too much attention to himself as he made his way to his bed, casually pulling off his shirt and discreetly removing his sweatpants. And now he was cold…

Hiori burrowed into the sheets, wrapping them tightly around himself and hoping he wasn’t visibly still trembling. Everything was going wrong. He wasn’t sick, or at least he didn’t think he was. All his senses were dialed up to eleven and his body temperature regulation was all out of sorts. If he didn’t know any better, Hiori would think he was dying.

He didn’t sleep well at all.

Halfway through the night, Hiori had to practically bolt out of the room to go throw up again. There wasn’t much that came up this time, just stomach acid and spit. He’d brushed his teeth for the fourth time that day and gone back to bed.

The whole night was just plain miserable. Every thirty minutes or so, his body would swing from being boiling hot to freezing cold. He’d kick off the covers and then be blindly grasping for them in the dark. His headache only got worse and all of his joints were screaming at him in pain, no matter how many times he tried to crack them.

He didn’t remember sleeping, but all too soon, the lights were coming on and the new day began. 

As soon as he registered the lights being on, Hiori wanted to cry. He couldn’t do this! Not again…

He did his best not to just break out sobbing, and to his credit, he did a halfway decent job at it. Yet despite his efforts, or to spite his efforts, his eyes still welled up as he grit his teeth to keep back the overwhelmed whimpers that wanted to escape.

He didn’t care at this point if the others noticed something was wrong, Hiori just wanted this all to end. This was now day three of suffering, and he couldn’t take it anymore. So he just buried himself under the covers and quietly cried to himself. He was used to this, keeping quiet while in tears. He’d mastered this skill before shutting off his emotions.

He could hear his roommates talking, whispering about something. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he was sure they were talking about him. After all, how could they not when he was behaving so out of character?

He flinched when something brushed his shoulder, probably a hand, and probably Isagi. He was basically the group mom when he wasn’t in soccer-ego mode.

The hand hesitated, before pressing further into his shoulder and rubbing up and down, from the edge of his shoulder to the base of his neck and back.

Hiori squeezed his eyes shut. The touch was nice, soothing, and it just made his throat tighten. He heard soft whispers, but he didn’t understand them. Everything was just so damn terrible and he felt miserable and nauseous and sore.

All he wanted was to stay curled up in bed for the rest of his life. 

He vaguely registered Isagi telling the other two to go on ahead to breakfast. Then footsteps fading away. Then the door closing.

And all the while, he was trying to stop crying.

He needed to push through this, whatever it was. If he couldn’t perform his best, he’d be kicked out. And the thought of going back to there only made him cry harder.

It was all too much. Too much pain, too many smells, too much light, too much exercise, too many emotions.

But he couldn’t just give up…

Not now…

His whole body was shaking now, and he knew Isagi could feel how much he was trembling under the blankets. He didn’t want to face his friend. Shame crawled up his spine and set a feeling of dread deep in his core. Everyone knew. They all know how weak he is.

Isagi sat with him for basically the entire breakfast hour, silently rubbing his shoulders until finally, Hiori managed to calm down. The embarrassment didn’t leave when he was able to take steady breaths, he wanted to stay under the blankets forever if he could.

Unfortunately, Isagi broke the silence.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he started. “But if something’s wrong or you’re sick, we’ll help you.”

Hiori sighed and shook his head as best he could.

“‘Nless ya can make the world go ‘way, I’on’t think it’ll help,” he whispered, voice rough.

There was a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.

“You should come out,” Isagi said. “You need to drink something.”

He’s right, Hiori knew that. He hadn’t drank any water since the first time he threw up. Maybe today it’ll taste normal.

Slowly, he uncurled his hands from the blanket and pushed it away, wincing as the bright lights hit his eyes. He gave his wrists a roll and they audibly popped. The aches had escalated to genuine pain, and Hiori wasn’t sure how he would make it through the day’s practice at this point.

The mattress dipped as he sat up, and before he knew it, smooth plastic was being pressed to his dry lips. A straw, he realized. His face flushed red, but he latched on anyways and took careful sips of water. At least this time he had the self control to pace himself. 

When he pulled off, Hiori sighed and stared at his lap.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

For a few moments, there was silence again, then Isagi spoke up.

“Look, I can’t make you do anything, but I really think you should tell someone about this.”

Hiori flinched.

He can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t-

“No.”

“But this isn’t normal,” Isagi protested. “You’re in pain, you can barely stand, and I know you got sick last night.”

Hiori bit his lip. Of course he knows. Everyone probably knows.

“You said you’re not ill, but how else do you explain this? Something’s wrong, you can’t just push through it if you’re waking up in tears.”

“Would you stop?” Hiori asked. “If it was you, would’ya actually stop to rest? I can’t. Blue Lock in’nt a place where ya can just take a break.”

Isagi sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He was thinking, Hiori could tell. If Isagi was as smart as Hiori knew he was, then his friend would realize he was right. You can’t just stop training here, that was basically a one-way ticket to leaving. To having your career ended right then and there. It sucked, but that was the reality of the situation. Even if he didn’t care about soccer, he still needed to stay.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Isagi asked after a moment. 

Hiori shrugged.

“Unless ya got painkillers, I’m not sure.”

And Isagi smiled. Just a bit.

“I have over-the-counter.”

They ended up missing both breakfast and the morning stretches, but after taking four of the painkillers, Hiori felt slightly better. His headache was less, though it wasn’t gone. But at least he could walk around without wanting to gouge his own eyes out from the lights.

They’d joined up with the rest of the team for practice once Hiori got dressed. He still felt like crap, but he pushed through it. At the very least, the nausea was gone for now. Though his stomach was organizing an uprising against the lack of breakfast, audibly growling from time to time.

At least it was almost lunchtime.

The painkillers lasted until the alarm went off. They seemed to be on cue, timed with the schedule. Because as everyone was making their way to the mess hall, Hiori’s headache came back with a vengeance.

He swore under his breath and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, as though that would make it go away. Of course, it had no effect.

He face planted into the table once he sat down. The smell of steak was making his mouth water, but it was too much effort to lift his head. It felt like it was stuffed full of lead. He thought before that maybe he was dying, but now, he kind of actually wished he was. Just so that his body would stop hurting and the smells would go away.

Something smelled a little burnt. Sugar?

And something else smelled sour. This one he couldn’t pinpoint.

“You okay?” Isagi asked, routine at this point.

“Just end me,” Hiori groaned.

Somehow, he’d managed to eat lunch. It took almost the entire hour, but he did it. And drank a glass of water. This time he held it himself. 

The second half of training was already killing him. His legs were on fire, his head throbbed and pounded like something was trying to escape from inside. The intense smells of his teammates had him spinning. Pine, grass, carmel, cinnamon, saltwater, bubblegum, clean laundry. And to top it off, sweat and general body odor.

Still, he pushed himself. Dragging his fogged up mind to calculate his shots and hit the targets on the wall. Every time he missed, Hiori felt frustration building in his chest. Usually, frustration led to anger. He was usually always angry, some sort of rage boiling just below the surface, waiting to emerge and strike. But this time it only led to sadness and added to the lump in his throat.

He refused to cry. Not again. Not in front of his teammates. In front of Noa. Getting so worked up in the dorm had been bad enough already.

He kicked the ball at the wall, aiming for the high corner on the right. Yet the ball disobeyed and veered off to the left, bouncing pathetically off the lower center instead.

Hiori’s face screwed up and for a moment, he felt like he couldn’t control his emotions. But he wiped away the tears that welled up and collected the ball to try again. And again. And again.

On the fifth try, something went wrong.

Not the way that it had been going wrong, something different.

A sharp pain rippled through his abdomen and Hiori gasped.

It wasn’t like the nausea from last night, that was a churning and sloshing type of feeling. This one was stabbing, squeezing.

He grit his teeth and swung at the ball. His foot missed as a second pang shot through his system.

“Fuck,” he winced, before he could stop himself.

This was worse than anything that had happened already. Worse than the constant aching. Worse than the headache. Worse than throwing up.

This pain was worse than Hiori could’ve ever imagined. White hot, searing, stabbing, squeezing.

It came for a third time, and lingered. He couldn’t help himself and he clutched his stomach and doubled over. He barely noticed his knees hitting the astroturf through the agony.

Someone shouted his name. He could hardly hear it over his own groaning. 

He was dizzy, everything was spinning around and all Hiori could feel was the pain in his stomach. He tried really hard not to, but his eyes welled up again and this time, he couldn’t will away the tears.

He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could. It didn’t help. He was lightheaded, nearly choking on jagged gasps of air, and somehow, it got worse. It felt like his body was being ripped into, like someone was yanking his organs out and tearing through his skin. This time he cried out.

Someone asked what’s wrong, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“I-“ Hiori tried to answer. “I don’t know! I don’ know I dunno! It- fuck, I ca-“

Another wave, and he whined and pressed his hands into his abdomen. It didn’t help.

“Help,” he whimpered, though he had no clue how anyone could help. “Shit, j’st, ohmigod j’st-“

His shoulder hit the ground, and Hiori realized he’d fully fallen over. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He was literally curled on the ground in pain and all he wanted was for it to stop.

A part of him remembered that everything they did was broadcasted live. Everything from morning stretches to dinner was being seen all around the world by millions of people. They were all witnessing Hiori like this. His parents were witnessing this— fantastic... That thought only made him sob, as if the stabbing wasn’t enough.

People were talking. Saying things that didn’t make sense. Scent? What about his scent? Hiori could barely smell it himself most days.

Someone touched him, and it sent lightning through his body.

“He’s burning up.”

Who said that?

“J’st fuckin’ kill me,” he managed to gasp out. “F-feels like ‘m dyin’!”

He was so hot. His clothes were suffocating him, sticking to his damp, no, drenched skin. And it crawled, like a million ants, marching wildly on his body and biting into him.

Another wave.

He tasted blood.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. But he could smell. He could smell everyone, and it made him whine. His sides were cold where his nails dug in through the fabric. He couldn’t let go. He couldn’t.

The only thing he could feel other than the pain was an uncomfortable stickiness on his thighs that had him squirming, gluing the tight uniform to his skin. End him. Just fucking kill him!

He vaguely registered movement. He felt weightless as light flickered behind his eyelids. Something was pressed against his forehead, something cold and wet. It did little to soothe the torture. Hiori didn’t know what was going on. Everything was too much!

Something soft hit his back. Or his back hit something soft. He couldn’t tell.

“I wanna die,” he managed, pleading to whoever was around. “No more, please.”

The next while was a blur, he didn’t know how much time went by. He didn’t know what happened. All Hiori knew was agony and suffering.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth. Something warm and heavy was on top of him.

The second thing he noticed was the familiar pain in his head, now having gone from lead-weight to a full on building pressing against his skull.

And the third thing he noticed was that he was naked under the warm object.

Hiori’s eyes shot open and he groaned immediately after. Wherever he was, it was blindingly white, even in the dim lighting. What the hell happened? The last thing he remembered was falling to the ground from pain.

Everything still hurt. His joints were still achy, and clearly the migraine refused to leave. But the stabbing pain in his stomach had gone away. At least, at least for now.

Slowly, Hiori rolled over to his back. He took in his surroundings carefully. Where was he?

The room was white. White walls, white ceiling, white sheets.

A hospital?

No, Blue Lock doesn’t have a hospital. So maybe an infirmary? 

The heavy thing on his body was a weighted blanket. And it had a cord, it was probably a heated blanket too. 

He couldn’t see anyone in the room. There was no one in the room except for himself. But to his left, Hiori spotted a red button. A call button, he realized.

His limbs felt like jello, but he forced one out from under the blanket and pushed the button. As soon as it clicked, he let his arm fall to the bed. He was exhausted. 

Time didn’t seem to exist. Hiori didn’t know how long he waited in the bed before the door opened. He was too busy drifting in and out of consciousness to notice the clicking of heels on the floor.

Until he heard his name.

“Mhm?” He managed, letting the person know he was listening.

“How are you feeling?”

A woman’s voice?

Oh, Anri.

“Shitty,” Hiori whispered.

A pause, then a click of a pen.

“I’d imagine. Most people do after their first heat.”

Wait.

His eyes went wide.

Hiori tried to shake his head. He couldn’t have heard that right. Heat? He doesn’t have heats, he’s a beta. Always has been. He’s sixteen, way past presentation age.

“Tha’s wrong,” he said. “‘M a beta. I’on’ have heats.”

Anri pursed her lips and her fingers clutched the clipboard in her hands.

“What do you remember?” She asked, glancing at whatever paper was on the clipboard.

“I fell over,” Hiori replied bluntly. “It- it hurt.”

Anri wrote something on the paper, probably what Hiori had said.

“And how have you been feeling this week?”

“Miserable.”

“Can you be more specific?” She prompted.

Hiori didn’t want to. Talking hurt, his throat ached along with his body. But apparently Anri was a doctor, or at least had the authority to give this sort of interview. He should answer, or at least try. 

“Sore, an’ I’ve had a headache. Threw up a couple times,” he summarized. 

Anri frowned. Did Hiori say something wrong? No, he couldn’t have, that was a personal question. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

And he shrugged.

“Don’t wanna be booted.”

Anri sighed and shook her head, making a note on the page.

“Have you been tired or felt extra hungry?”

Yes. To both.

“And you’re sixteen?”

Of course, why and how would he lie about his age?

“And what do you remember?”

Again? Didn’t he answer this already?

“I already said this one,” he said.

“I need you to be more specific, then I can help you,” Anri explained.

How can she help? All Hiori wanted was to rewind back to three days ago, before the pain, before the smells, before humiliating himself on worldwide live television.

“I- I was tryin’a hit the targets. My stomach hurt, like stabbin’, and I fell down.”

He didn’t know how much detail she needed, but Hiori didn’t exactly want to relive that. 

“And,” Anri said, crossing her foot over the other. “When you said you wanted to die, were you serious?”

He said that? Vaguely in the back of his mind, Hiori could hear himself crying out, begging for it to stop. But, he didn’t mean it. He just wanted the pain to go away.

“No,” Hiori said quickly. “No, I’m not suicidal, if that’s what yer gettin’ at. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Do you still feel sore?”

Hiori nodded.

“Can I have some water?” He asked.

Anri widened her eyes and immediately walked across the room. She knelt down, then stood, and when she returned, she was holding a plastic disposable water bottle. Thankfully, she twisted the cap off before handing it to Hiori.

He didn’t try to sit up, not that much. His stomach still hurt, but not like before. More like a dull, consistent throb that cramped up his insides. Bearable, but still annoying. The water was room temperature, but cool, soothing his sore throat and washing away the stale taste in his mouth.

The room smelled stuffy. To his surprise, Hiori could smell his own scent, kiwi. He’d never really smelled it before. Anri smelled like jasmine and the two at least worked together, instead of the horrible cocktail of the main compound. No more stale sweat.

As he drank, Anri flipped the page on the clipboard. She scribbled on the page a bit, the scratching of her pen becoming white noise in the silence of the room.

“Hiori, do you know what ‘suppressed presentation’ is?” She asked, once Hiori had handed the water back to her.

He shook his head.

He had no idea what that was. It didn’t sound good though.

Anri made a quick note.

“Suppressed presentation is when an alpha or an omega is put through so much stress at a young age, that the body cannot handle the strain of secondary gender development. It goes dormant until the main stressor is gone.”

Huh?

“It’s not common enough to have schools teach about it, and the studies on it show that it makes the cycles more… difficult, once the person does present.”

Hiori felt a little dizzy as the pieces fell into place. The soreness. The new sensitivity to smells. The nausea. Suppressed presentation?

“Did-“ he tried, voice catching in his throat. “Do ya think… that happened to me?”

It didn’t sound right. It couldn’t sound right. But… but it would make sense…

Of fucking course it would happen to him. Hiori didn’t want to believe it, but with everything that happened these past few days, how could he not?

“We ran some tests earlier this week,” Anri explained. “Just to be sure, and all of them came back with the same results. Hiori, you’ve presented as omega.”

Hiori just blinked. Omega. Not beta. Omega. 

His whole life, his entire existence, everything was put into perspective. He thought back, searching for any sign that could indicate the smallest bit, the slightest possibility, that there could have been a sign. But nothing came to mind, not anything before three days ago.

Wait. Anri said “earlier this week” and not “earlier today.”

“How long was I asleep?” Hiori asked, his voice quiet.

Anri pursed her lips for a moment before answering.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for five days.”

Five days?

Five days…

He’d forgotten five entire days.

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” Anri said quickly. “It’s completely normal to forget bits and pieces of your heat. Some people barely remember any of it.”

Heat.

There it was again, that word.

Hiori covered his eyes with his hands as another realization set in.

“I presented to the entire world…”

He couldn’t see Anri, but her scent changed. Just slightly. A little sweeter.

“We cut the cameras after we realized what was going on,” Anri said, sounding sympathetic. “I’m sorry this had to happen like this.”

Hiori sighed and pulled the warm blanket further up his chest and rolled onto his side. He didn’t want to be here, everything felt like it was going wrong. He’d missed five whole days of Blue Lock, had such an intimate moment shown to the world- embarrassed himself in front of the whole world. Everything was so much more intense, scents had layers to them instead of the normal base scent, and apparently, he wasn’t a beta.

“I have just a few more questions to ask you before I can let you rest,” Anri said, clicking her pen open once more and flipping the clipboard page. “They might be uncomfortable, but I need you to be honest with me. Everything here is confidential, this room does not have cameras and these records will only be shared with your doctor.”

And what could he do except nod? There was no running from this situation. It had caught up to him in quite possibly the worst way it could, at least in Hiori’s opinion.

“First, do you remember anything after ‘falling over’?”

“No,” Hiori said honestly. “Not until wakin’ up.”

He wasn’t sure if forgetting the past few days was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, from what he knew about heats, they left omegas in an insatiable manner. It’s natural, but the thought of himself being in that state left Hiori’s face pink. But on the other hand, he knew nothing about the past days. If anyone had helped him with basic needs like food and water, any of the tests he’d been given, getting to this room in general.

Anri continued.

“How much were you taught in school about omegas and heat cycles?”

“Not much at all, they separated us by secondary gender for health class.”

“We can supply you with a book on heat cycles if you need,” Anri said.

That might be a good idea…

“Final question,” Anri held her pen over the clipboard. “What in your life do you think could have caused the stress?”

Hiori grit his teeth.

He had an idea… His life had been nothing but pleasing his parents, doing what he hated, following rigid schedules, and trying to keep his parents from having a divorce. If he didn’t succeed, their marriage would fail. They didn’t love him, they loved what he could do. No one has ever loved him at all.

That was probably the cause of the stress.

Anri sat down on the edge of the bed, far enough away that she didn’t risk touching Hiori. Her gaze softened from the clinical look to one that was more peaceful, more natural. There was something soothing about her scent, what it was, Hiori couldn’t put his finger on. Was this what people meant when they said that scents could be used to detect emotions?

“Is everything okay at home?”

Hiori’s throat went dry. He swallowed, but it didn’t help much at all. How was he supposed to answer this question without getting in trouble? His parents would find out sooner or later if he said anything remotely negative, which is why he keeps it hidden. The only one who knows what’s going on is Karasu (and Rin on some level). He didn’t expect Blue Lock to fully follow the laws, but wouldn’t something as serious as this be mandatory to report?

“If something is going on, we need to be aware of it.”

“Just,” Hiori managed to say. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He could see Anri’s face from the corner of his vision. He saw how her eyebrows knit together in a look of concern. Did he already say too much?

“Like I said, everything you say here will be confidential.”

Fuck it. What more could happen? It’s not like he planned on going back to that house again.

“It’s… not the greatest,” Hiori admitted. “My parents want me to be the best at soccer, they don’t care all that much about me outside of it. They just want me to win, they don’t care that my body is destroyed in the process.”

It felt so weird to say out loud. He’d never actually said any of this out loud before, only in his head. Karasu knew him and picked up on all the signs, for as ridiculous as he was, Karasu was pretty smart. And it had been difficult to hide the calorie counting or that they could never hang out at Hiori’s house.

“It’s not like they hit me or anythin’ like that,” he added, speaking a little faster. “I just, don’t matter if I can’t do well.”

The more he talked, the more he admitted, Hiori found it easier to share. He shared the pressure of having to keep his parents from getting a divorce, going into the story of his foot scar briefly. He shared the strict diet regime he was kept on. How he couldn’t have any friends, or even play on the playground like a normal kid. And all the while, Anri took notes on her clipboard.

Of course, there were some things he kept to himself, such as the murder fantasies. Anri didn’t need to know about those. Hiori was sure that those specific thoughts would get him admitted to somewhere.

When Hiori ran out of things to say, he fell silent and tried to pull the blanket over his face. His arms burned at the motion but the strange mix of both ease and shame from sharing so much that he’d kept private before made him want to be alone.

“You said this was all private right?” Hiori asked softly. “Ya won’t tell anyone?”

Anri pursed her lips and held the clipboard to her chest.

“Nothing will leave this room,” she said, and Hiori breathed a sigh of relief.

“However,” she continued, making him immediately withdraw that sigh of relief. “In good conscience, I can’t allow you to go back to your house.”

Anri shifted on her feet as she stood, she looked nervous. Her jasmine scent changed and a brief hint of decay began mingling with the air.

“There’s no easy way to say this, but, that is an abusive environment. It’s no wonder your presentation was suppressed, you’ve been under this immense pressure your whole life. Legally, we cannot let go back.”

Hiori blinked.

He’s not an idiot, he knows what emotional abuse is. Karasu made sure that he knew, even offering a place to stay if Hiori needed to get away. And yeah, he was technically running away by coming to Blue Lock, but being forbidden?

It kind of felt… nice.

“Okay,” was all he could say.

“Is there anyone else who was aware of the situation?” Anri asked, collecting herself.

Hiori nodded.

“Karasu knows, and Rin knows a bit, but no one else.”

Anri made a note of that, then tucked her clipboard under her arm.

“Thank you for cooperating, I’m sure you want to get back to resting.”

Hiori laughed weakly at that. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but it sounded good to him.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Anri nodded.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to run your vitals, and if all looks good, you’ll be free to return to your stratum.”

Oh right, he had to go back. Hiori had almost forgotten about that in the aftermath of the sudden heat and opening up about his parents. God, he hoped no one would look at him differently, or treat him any differently. And he also really hoped that Noa would still put him in for the match against the Ubers. 

An air of uncertainty settled over him. Now that he was forbidden from returning to his parents, where would he go if he was kicked out? He wasn’t going to be eighteen for a while, so would he have to live with someone? Or he could get a job and get emancipated, but that would be complicated because all he knows how to do really is play video games and soccer. Would someone at Blue Lock take him in? Or maybe Karasu’s parents?

No, he couldn’t think like that yet. He had to be put in the next game so he could get a salary. He couldn’t think about what would happen after Blue Lock yet, that would only muddle his judgment. Once the game was over, then he could start planning what to do.

Anri left the room, and Hiori collapsed back into the pillow behind him. He was still bare from head to toe, but the warm weight of the blanket was enough to keep him from freezing. With no distractions left, Hiori fell asleep.

The room was still in the same liminal white, timeless space that it was in when he woke the first time. Anri was quietly calling his name, stirring Hiori from his nap. His head throbbed and his body ached, but he was still used to it. The scents and the medical related questions confirmed that this was all not a crazy dream that he was having.

“Just a few more questions before the physical exam,” Anri said, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Are you still experiencing cramps?”

Hiori shook his head. Those had subsided the first time he’d woken up. He answered the same for the nausea question, though he was a little less sure about that answer because he didn’t know the last time he’d eaten anything.

Anri nodded, jotting down the answers.

“Alright, what I’m going to do now is leave the room so you can dress, and then we’ll start the physical.”

She handed over a small pile of clothes, folded up nicely. They looked like the standard Blue Lock loungewear, tank top variant. Once Anri left the room, Hiori pushed the weighted blanket off of his body. God, his arms ached like crazy. He didn’t want to try standing up yet, in case he fell over again, so he did his best to dress while sitting up or laying down in the bed.

“You can come back now,” he called once his shirt had been pulled on.

Anri returned.

“The first part of the exam is your vital signs. I’ll check your temperature, blood pressure, and pulse.”

Hiori cooperated with the exam, letting Anri wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bicep and place the finger clamp to check his pulse. Anri used a forehead thermometer, which felt kind of strange as it swiped above his eyebrows. The cuff constricted and the squeeze wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was tolerable.

“Alright,” Anri said once the blood pressure cuff deflated. “Everything looks normal, given the circumstances. Your temperature is a little higher than normal for a forehead scan, 38 degrees, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. The body usually has a higher temperature after a heat or rut cycle.”

Hiori nodded, a little absent. He was still processing the information. He’d lived his whole life thinking he was a beta, and now it was all different. Even if no one else thought anything else of him, Hiori would think of himself differently. And what would his parents say? Surely they didn’t expect an omega son, not with their weird sports eugenics and more traditional outlook on life and secondary gender. Alpha was preferable, and given his height, it would be the obvious answer in their eyes. Beta was… fine.

But there were taller omegas, even in Blue Lock. Rin, for example, was taller than Hiori, and he’s an omega. But Hiori didn’t usually make it his business to know the other boys’ secondary gender. Only if they shared it with him did he know. Maybe he’d get a pass and go talk to Rin? He’d been meaning to pop over to the PxG stratum anyways, since he hadn’t gotten a chance to chat with Rin since after the break and the initial return.

“Are you able to stand?” Anri asked. 

Hiori shrugged.

“I haven’t tried yet,” he admitted. “I didn’t wanna fall over again.”

Anri nodded, understandingly.

“Dangle your feet over the bed before you stand, you’ve been laying down for a while now.”

Hiori listened, shifting to sit over the side so the floor just barely grazed his toes. After a minute, Anri offered her hands for balance, and Hiori stood up. He was a little shaky on his feet, but after a moment, he stabilized. Anri had him walk around a bit and gave an abbreviated sports physical, before declaring him well enough to leave the infirmary.

“I’ll walk with you back to your dorm,” she said, leaving the clipboard in a locked slot on the wall. “Noa has been informed that you’ll be coming back now.”

Hiori cringed inwardly. He’d never really been the type to get super embarrassed easily, but this was so new. And so public. He was dreading looking at the twitter posts and comments after his presentation was broadcasted.

Before they left, Hiori had to ask a question of his own.”

“Is it gonna be like this every time? Like, am I gonna forget it all?”

Anri’s face turned puzzled as she thought.

“I can’t say for sure. It’s different for everyone. Some people remember the whole time, others forget everything. But most fall somewhere in the middle, with periods of lucidity and missing gaps in time.”

Hiori nodded, he guessed that was the best he could hope for.

There was no one in the halls, much to Hiori’s relief, as Anri escorted him back to the dorms. The dorm itself was also empty, so Hiori flopped back on his bed, debating if it would be a smart idea to pull out the tablet or not. Out of his roommates, Hiori was usually the one to be up to date on all things that fans and viewers were saying about everyone. But he’d been keeping to the background so far.

This was so much different from the usual Isagi and Kaiser rivalry discussion. This was personal information that everyone now knew. Folks were bound to start speculating and he didn’t want to see that. So instead of looking at the online forums and twitter feeds, Hiori played mobile games to pass the time. According to the tablet, dinner would be soon, which meant that everyone was probably in the showers or would be returning very soon.

In the middle of a candy crush level, the door to the room slid open. Hiori turned his head, seeing all three of his roommates entering, having some sort of conversation about the training they’d done that day.

“Hey, you’re back,” Gagamaru said, before simply walking to his own corner of the room and changing clothes.

Kurona gave a wave while taking off his shoes, and Isagi smiled at him.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.