3. in this courage (I believe)

The first problem now is how to make sure they survive past day one. 

But surviving day one in the only way they know how to means every change before now resets nearer to the old path, and the trouble thereafter doesn't change. Raimon is still going to crumble into nine members.

Kirino sighs.

-

Kirino honestly wonders how he looks to the others.

Tsurugi's kept Shindou mostly unharmed thus far, simply to spite the captain-- so when Kirino stands back up, again and again, Tsurugi found himself facing two stubborn players instead of one standing.

With Shindou at the front and Kirino at the back, they have a formation. But outnumbered as they are, they don't get anywhere.

Kirino finds himself turning internally to Jeanne for help.

If only he could use her charisma, roaring his team back to life with his willpower alone. But no-- he can't use it too often. He's already used one Miximax this morning (a severe miscalculation, on his part) so he shouldn't use it again. The appearance change would really draw some unwanted attention, too.

An elbow digs into his back, and he cries out a strangled noise. His knees lose their energy, and he's thrown off the ground, rolling on the path sharply as the agony just throbs like a shattered organ in his side.

Bruise. Bad.

(But he'll live.)

So he stands up again.

"Stop it, Kirino!" Kurama calls out, worriedly. Wisely, most of them had stayed on the ground, nursing aching bruises of their own-- so evidently, they preferred for Kirino to have some sense of self preservation and do the same.

At the next shot, Kirino catches it with his chest-- and scrambling up for a last fit of effort, Kurumada crashes into his back, and together, they howl against the force.

And they stop it.

The ball eases to a stop in its spins, and falls harmlessly back onto the ground. They both collapse, but it's a step.

"Kurumada," Kirino turns to him, surprised. He really wasn't expecting any help-- but when he catches his gaze, the senior smiles.

"I can't exactly sit around when you're trying so hard, can I?" he smirks, though the pain is evident in his senses. He stands and balls his fists, facing the others. "What are you guys sleeping around for?! Get up, get up, UP!"

...Huh? Okay, this was... out of expectations.

Kirino hadn't said anything important yet. Nothing about how he was going to protect Raimon, or protect soccer, or all that sappy shit Tenma could spew like second nature. He'd just been quietly taking it, aiming for Shindou to break his patience.

"Mine!" Hamano snatches the ball from before them, and he dribbles it forward. He stumbles a little at first, but superb as he is with balance, it doesn't disturb his dribbling. "Kirino's acting all cool on his own, that's not fair!"

Tsurugi is left aghast when the team pick themselves up, shouting varying degrees of agreement. Hamano passes before a Black Knight can reach him, and that's how they continue the fight. Just desperately passing, staying far from the opponents.

Rather than passing, they were kind of playing hot potato with it.

No one touches the ball for more than kicking it right off again, and with how short the passes were and how disarrayed their opponents were in the sudden change of situation, for a good while, they had a whole internal rally of frantic passes.

"Hayami, catch this!"

"Huh? Wha- wait!! Oh my god I almost lost that one-- AAH DON'T COME NEAR ME! Uh, Kurama-senpai!"

"Hey, Hayami, what kinda pass was that?! Minamisawa, heads up!"

"Whu-- I don't want it! Ugh. Mizumori, sending it your way!"

"No! Don't come here! Amagi, take it!"

"Huh!? I'm a defender, don't pass it to me! Wait, no one's around-- uh, Sangoku!"

Sangoku catches the ball when Amagi passes it, and there's a moment where everyone breathes again.

They all stand, facing an obviously infuriated Tsurugi. There's still fear in their senses, and they're obviously flinching when he says anything-- but this time, they're standing and looking at him with resolved spite in their eyes.

Kirino basks in the unfamiliar sight.

"Oh man," he says, and his knees give in. He laughs a little, "this is so stupid."

"Oh, so Kirino gets to take a break this time?"

"How about we just all not take unnecessary breaks in the middle of a match..."

"You alright to keep going, Kirino?" Sangoku calls out to the boy, and for a moment, Kirino almost says yes. It's instinct to say yes, especially when everyone else is so determined to keep going.

The score's at fifteen to zero in the second half. There's no way they'd ever win. What matters now isn't scoring, and it isn't winning. It's surviving.

They don't have much time left.

When Sangoku passes the ball again, Tsurugi snatches it right out of the air. Kirino winces when the boy turns around.

"Stubborn," he spits the words, "you don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Oh no," Shindou reacts, startled, "he's going to do that again!"

Good old Death Sword, never fails to traumatise a kingdom each time it's used. Really, he wished the older them were as afraid of the Death Sword as they were now.

No-- he drags himself up a foot, sensing something wrong-- yep. Tsurugi only has one hand in his pocket. That's not Death Sword!

"Shindou!" Kirino calls quickly-- but he really doesn't know what he's thinking. What could Shindou do now?

"Raimon is finished!" Tsurugi raises his voice. "Sword Saint Lancelot!"

The dark purple aura swirls to life, and the commentator, the crowd, the players-- there's chaos. Kirino honestly can't blame them. He was honestly scared shitless the first time too, but after about two more matches apparently everyone in the world has one now, so he really quickly got used to it.

His eyes meet Shindou's, for a brief second.

Kirino doesn't know how to respond to that. Is Shindou asking him something? For confirmation? For trust? For validation?

He's too far away, and Kirino doesn't have enough energy to yell. He doesn't know what to yell, even.

So instead, he smiles.

And Shindou smiles back.

The Captain turns back to Tsurugi-- and then, he roars.

The rest is history.

-

-

-

"Kirino, let's go."

"Ah... alright."

Shindou's unconscious, just like the first time. Makes sense. Forcing your Keshin to come right out of the blue is many times harder than just summoning it-- it's impressive that he managed, actually.

They're all glad the Black Knights have retreated, but Kirino struggles to take it in.

Nothing has changed. In fact, he made changes, and had to forcibly set it back on the original path... somehow. What else might change now, is Tenma not going to be able to summon Pegasus? Is Shinsuke not going to join the club?

"Kirino-senpai, need a hand?"

There's Tenma. Safe and uninjured, wearing his school blazer, Tenma. It's so strange. It's so wrong.

Tenma's supposed to be here, staring weakly at the ball as things end anticlimactically. Tenma's supposed to be here, having his glory moment. But Kirino took it. Kirino stole it from him.

Would this still be the Tenma he knows?

"What's wrong, Kirino?" Sangoku is there now. Everyone else followed the coach to the infirmary, the others are headed back to the club room, but Sangoku stayed to look over the Defender that still hadn't moved from his spot.

And Kirino turns his attention back onto the field, and breathes in, breathes out. Yeah. No time to ponder now... He should go to the infirmary and wait for Shindou to wake up.

He sets a hand on the ground, and tries to push himself back up.

"Huh?"

Kirino stares at his knees for a confused few seconds, then he lifts his hand and lets Tenma and Sangoku help him up.

Immediately after, he crashes heavily against the goalkeeper.

"Kirino?!" Sangoku calls out, alarmed. He adjusts his arms quickly, setting a strong arm around Kirino's shoulders to keep him upright.

"S- sorry," Kirino stutters, surprised by himself, but he keeps a hand on Tenma's shoulder too, befuddled. What's... what's wrong with... "I think my legs are numb. Sorry I--"

No. No, this isn't numbness. This isn't a simple case of pins and needles and weakness after a hard run. This is-- this is--

He remembers the lack of pain. He remembers the metal impaling his foot. He remembered the crushed ankle and the bent knee and the flesh that was just a minced lump of ugly, ugly--

"Matsukaze, right?" Sangoku's voice interrupts his panic, "mind holding him for a second? Let's get him on my back."

"Ah, alright," Tenma responds, also not having noticed Kirino's little bout. "Kirino-senpai, lean on me for a bit?"

"Uh, yeah..."

Maybe Kirino is just overthinking this. Maybe it's just the trauma that affected his thoughts and made him unable to think clearly, logically.

Maybe Kirino just needs a good, long rest right now. He's tired, after all.

Yeah, maybe the stark unfeeling of his legs are just his imagination, because he's too exhausted. Yeah, that must be it.

"Let's get you to the infirmary, too," Sangoku decides.

Kirino manages a weak hum in response. He buries his face into Sangoku's shoulder and tries not to cry. This is nostalgic. Reminds him of the future.

(Sangoku has always been, and will always be, the big brother of Raimon.)

"Tenma," Kirino turns to the first year, who squeaks at the sudden referral, "even after all this... are you still going to join the soccer club?"

There's a split second of surprise in Tenma's features, but it quickly blooms into a radiant smile.

"Of course!" Tenma cheers, "in fact, I think I want to join even more than before, now!"

And Kirino can't help but smile back. Leave it to future Captain Matsukaze to have such overflowing cheer in his senses. Is he made of icing sugar?

"I see," Kirino says weakly, leaning his face deeper into Sangoku's shoulder. "That's a relief." He can feel Sangoku's concerned frown from there, and a part of him is warm. "You should be going for the induction ceremony, then."

And for a frozen second, Tenma's expressions stiffen.

Then he literally freaks.

"The induction ceremony!!" he squawks, "I'm gonna be late!"

Kirino chokes out a laugh as Tenma frantically excuses himself, runs off, and is joined by a visibly angry Sorano Aoi in the distance.

Kirino lets his eyes stay on their disappearing figures for a while-- then he sighs, breathing out slowly.

"Sorry, Sangoku."

He forgets the honorific, but the goalkeeper doesn't mention it.

"It's fine," he says. When Sangoku begins walking, Kirino feels the familiar lull of sleep crawl up his senses. "You're still unwell, aren't you? It's been a bad day, so just rest."

His arms wrapped around Sangoku's neck, Kirino can't help but miss this.

"All of you will still be there when I wake up, right?"

All this isn't a dream. This is reality, everyone's safe, everyone's normal, but so much is going to change from now on.

Kirino can't let all that happen to them again. He can't lose them again-- even if he has to lose what they've become to him and start over-- Kirino has to do this.

Kirino has to hold them tight and make sure they're safe this time.

Because this is his team and he's the Defender.

"Of course we will," when Sangoku answers, Kirino's unsure if the keeper actually understands the emotional turmoil Kirino is going through.

But it's enough as an assurance.

-

"They're saying it's muscle exhaustion," Coach Fudou assures him, "I'm sure you'll be able to walk again tomorrow if you take the rest of the day off, Kirino."

Kirino doesn't feel too at ease, but there's a flicker of hope in his chest that he doesn't want to let fade. It's temporary. Yes, it has to be. What's the point of time travel if... if his legs apparently don't work? All previous tries at time travel never brought about an aftereffect like this. It makes no sense. It made no sense.

"I think you owe us an explanation, Kirino."

There's Kurama, frank as ever. Sangoku chastises him for his tone, but everyone thinks the same. They close the curtains over where Shindou is resting, and gather around the other bed, where Kirino stretches out his legs and let his sore muscles rest.

"There's something I need to say?" Kirino asks, though he knows exactly what they're wondering and why. "What exactly do you want me to talk about?"

When Coach Kudou draws a chair and sits down before the boy, somehow Kirino thinks he's messed up really bad.

"About Keshin, for starters," he decides, "yours, Shindou's... and the other two."

Kirino doesn't know where to begin.

"I'm a time traveller," he says immediately.

And Kurumada slams a hand on the bed frame, "this is not the time for jokes!" and Kirino flinches from it, slightly guilty about using an easygoing tone on such a serious topic.

But I guess that rules out any factor that they'd believe in me.

Damn, things were so much easier when they went back further in time. Those people had fantasiacal views on the future, so time-travelling was kind of possible in their minds. But now, in the modern era, time travelling could be a meme, a joke, or something.

Basically, no one's gonna believe you unless you strip soccer right out of existence for a while or something.

"It's like a resonance," Kirino decides to say, "I don't have the ability to master my Keshin yet... but I've managed to realize she was there a while ago... and well, how do you say... she's like an extra resident in my head? I can't really converse with her, it's more like... a sixth sense?"

What the fuck am I saying, what in the world am I talking about, what am I doing--

"You're telling me that your Keshin is uh," Hamano manages, "a voice in your head."

"Kirino, are you bipolar?" Amagi asks with a straight face, earning him a smack on the head from Kurumada.

"Does that mean that Tsurugi's got it too?" Hayami asks, "hey, do you think Keshin are named by users or do they already have a name and the users just magically kinda somehow know the name when they first summon it or--"

"Seriously, Hayami?"

Kirino sighs, and everyone stops talking, turning their attention back to him.

"So you're saying," Coach Kudou takes over, "you can sense who has a Keshin that's imminent to awakening, and that is why you wanted to put Matsukaze on the team?"

Kirino nods. Congratulations, I just won a degree in bullshitting. Maybe all that hanging out with Tenma was paying off somehow...

The coach stares at him, eyes sharp, narrowed, and skeptical-- and Kirino felt cold sweat gather at the base of his neck. Okay, maybe it isn't working after all? Can the Kariya-stupidity in his head teach him what to do next? Preferably a way that makes him less suspicious? Kirino's probably asking the wrong person.

Finally, after an eternity, he sighs and looks away.

"There are a number of inconsistencies in your reasoning, but I will let it slide for today," and god bless this coach who is too smart for his own good, "get some sleep."

"Yes... sir."

When the coach stands up to leave, everyone else follows. They bid him varying wishes of get-some-shut-eye-dammit (Kurama pokes him between the eyes and Sangoku, very helpfully, shoves him to lie down and makes sure he's tucked in. What are you, my mom?) before they all decide to leave him in the quiet little infirmary with Shindou.

What a turn.

-

Kirino hadn't noticed it at first, but it's there now.

Brynhildr.

It's only when he lies down, mind blank and back rested, that he feels the gentle churn at the back of his mind, an assurance at his chest and the warmth of a gentle hand caressing his cheek.

Maybe describing his Keshin as an extra resident in his head wasn't too far off.

The others may deny it, but Fei still talks to his plush rabbit; Shindou and Maestro always seem to disagree on something; and Tenma treats soccer as a living thing so evidently he has to treat Pegasus like one too. Then we have Nishiki, who is a little too talkative for a warrior like Musashi, so he always gets ignored.

In contrast to that, Kirino's Brynhildr and Kinako's Amaterasu just feel clingy. Maybe it's because they're feminine, but they feel like pushy sisters most of the time. The latter being a spoiled little sister, according to Kinako.

(According to Shinsuke, Titanias has self-esteem issues from how often they can't protect the goal well? And Tsurugi thinks Dad is an insult now because of Lancelot.)

It's subtle and people don't really take notice of it, but to some degree, their Keshin definitely have personalities of their own, and non-verbal conversation, that goes with full understanding both ways, is definitely possible.

It's just something you needed to have a Keshin to understand.

"It's still too early for me to utilize you," he whispers to himself. "I'm sorry, Brynhildr-- you'll have to wait. At least... for a few more months."

Because I'm not strong enough yet, so you'll be too much for me to handle.

The invisible hand leaves his cheek, and fades away. But the peace and the gentle shroud of her energy remains. It's gentle, it's a lull-- and Kirino can't help but feel safe enough to let himself fall asleep.

-

-

-

"Doctor Aruno-- are you sure we can't find them?"

"They've split off into at least eighteen different directions, and you know better than anyone how broad the world's timeline is. They could be anywhere. We don't even know if they're alive, Fei. You've seen the state of the bus, even if we find them..."

"No! I'm not giving up, I don't care what you say! Tenma's... all of them, they're-- they're definitely out there somewhere! We just haven't found them yet."

"Fei..."

"Please, Doctor Aruno, just-- just let me have hope."

-

-

-

Kirino jerks upright, breathing hard and heavy. He clutches at his shirt, over his too-fast heart, and he just-- struggles to remember.

What was that? What did he see? No... those were voices-- familiar voices.

No, no, he's forgetting. He knows it's important. It's important. What did they say, c'mon, remember, remember, remember!

Doctor Aruno, something about the timeline-- that was definitely Fei's voice. But that's normal-- they're world-class time-travel researchers, after all. They're always talking about the machine in some way or form.

No, could it be?

Are they-- are they looking for us?

"Kirino?"

Oh he couldn't get a single minute to panic on his own? Shindou could you just shush-- oh my god it's gone! The dream escaped me! It's gone! I forgot it!

He groans in defeat.

"Kirino," Shindou pulls the curtains away to get a good look, then in another second, the captain is out of his bed and on Kirino's.

"Wait, Shindou, you should stay down--"

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that?" Shindou raises an eyebrow at him, "you're still panicking. Breathe properly first, then maybe I'll humour you."

Kirino pouts a little, but he mourns the lost information for a moment longer-- then focused on calming his heart, slowing his heart rate back to a reasonable rhythm.

Through it, Shindou stays by his side, still weakened from using his Keshin, but not weak enough to forgo staying by Kirino's side.

After a while, Shindou asks, "another nightmare?"

Kirino shakes his head. "Just... confusing," he admits, because really, he doesn't know what to make of it. It's gone now-- "enough about me. You, get back on the bed."

"But I am on a bed."

"Not mine!"

Shindou is unexpectedly stubborn sometimes, so Kirino finds himself scooting over to make space for another figure to lay down. Kirino's sitting up by now, trying to figure out how to move himself to a chair or something so Shindou can have more comfort.

"So, what happened?" Shindou finally asks, "did I... did that guy...?"

"Ah, right-- you don't remember," Kirino recalls this scene very well. "You did it. You summoned your Keshin. It was still kind of incomplete, but I think their coach became interested in you, so they packed up and left."

"Right in the middle of the match?"

"Yeah, I mean-- I'm not one to judge plot convenience if it works."

Shindou gives him a strange look, but Kirino smirks knowingly. He sets a hand beside him, then with a little effort, hefts his legs over the bed. He hooks a chair closer with his foot-- now for the main problem of actually getting on it.

"What's wrong?" Shindou rolls over.

"Oh, uh--" Kirino fumbles a little, "they say I've overworked my legs, so I can't put any energy into them."

And Shindou leaps up. "What?!"

Yikes, he's furious.

"Is it serious?" Shindou tries to get up again, but this time Kirino leans over and puts his whole weight into making sure the boy stays down. "Kirino--"

"It's fine-- coach says I should be fine if I rest up for the rest of today," Kirino assures him, but in the way he averts his eyes at the end, it's clear that Kirino himself barely believes in those words.

After all, any leg injury is vital to the career of a soccer player. Kirino remembered very clearly the day Kazemaru had to officially quit playing soccer for his team, because the displacement in his ankle was permanent and interfered just too much for him to live up to standards.

(It had been a grim day-- but now, his soccer spirit lives on in Kirino's and Endou's soul, and though they can't Miximax in official games, it's still widely known as a force to be feared in Japan.)

"Kirino, Shindou-- oh come on, you two."

Minamisawa walks in on their very uncompromising positions, and he just throws his hands into the air and does a u-turn.

Kirino flushes, shooting away from Shindou and reaching out for the purple-haired striker, "Minamisawa, don't you dare--"

In a moment of agitation, Kirino forgets his legs have no energy, sets his feet on the ground-- then he collapses like a broken toy with cut strings. His foot just twists, and his field of vision turns a whole hundred eighty, somehow.

He yelps in surprise, half onto the chair, tumbling past the bed frame on the way down. His face knocks against the metal, and he hisses, more out of surprise than pain.

"Ow, ow..." he holds his face, where he's sure is going to be red.

"Kirino?!" Minamisawa whirls right back, previous situation forgotten as he runs up and crouches down-- he sets a hand around Kirino's neck like a support, bringing the defender's face closer to inspect for open wounds. "Don't move. Did you hit your head?"

Good, no bleeding or anything.

Kirino laughs a little. This part of Minamisawa, which everyone's really missed, was truly what reigned Kurama in, in most situations. The slightly motherly voice of reason with a sarcastic flair. With said striker in Gassan Kunimitsu, it's really been a while. "I'm not even dizzy, it's just a bump."

So no concussion? Okay.

Minamisawa helps the boy up, slinging an arm heavily over his shoulder so Kirino could clamber up to the chair.

"I'll pretend I didn't see whatever you guys were doing before I came in," he says, blatantly ignoring their flustered comments of 'we weren't doing anything!' in lieu of a serious moment. "Shindou. Things are getting serious, so you should come to the club room. Everyone else is there, too."

A silence overtakes, and Kirino feels his heart sink.

Shindou's hand clenches over the bed sheet, and he steps out of the bed. It's clear exactly what is happening. Even though they've averted the crisis for now, it's clear that Fifth Sector wants them gone.

It was no longer safe to be a member of Raimon's soccer club.

"I'll go," Shindou says, like he's agreeing to a death sentence of some sort-- his expressions are grim and his body language is tight. He gives Kirino a sad glance. "I think you should stay here and rest, Kirino."

Kirino almost leaps out of the bed like an idiot again, but the simultaneous jolts from Shindou and Minamisawa (who is absolutely prepared to catch him this time) reminds him to stop. Instead, Kirino tuts.

"I'll go too," he says, vainly, "I should be there."

To what? To witness the biggest embarrassment and downfall of the club? To see Shindou slowly break down into pieces? He can't do that, he can't even walk.

And Shindou senses his conflict.

"Stay here, and I'll call your brother to pick you up," he says, "I'll tell you what happened today later. I'll stop by your house. Okay?"

Kirino wavers a little too long, because the next thing he knows, Shindou and Minamisawa leave the room, and he's alone in the empty infirmary.

-

For a very long while, Kirino just doesn't say a thing. He doesn't move, doesn't go-- he just waits, not really thinking of anything.

Nothing's changed since last time.

Yeah, maybe that's fine, too. It'll be a pain to get through the resistance and take over Fifth Sector again, but at least he knows soccer will be saved and things will get better after that.

The bus accident doesn't happen until three years down the line. It's fine if he waits until the bare minimum, right? Nothing really needs to be changed back here, where life is relatively peaceful and everyone is okay, alive, and fine.

If he just lets this all happen again, it'll be putting everyone through the wringer that made them stronger, It's for a good cause.

(Who is Kirino to decide what's for the better cause, though?)

His fists close.

(Who is Kirino to just leave things as they are, though?)

He turns to his bag, and retrieves a notebook.

(Who is Kirino to waste this golden opportunity?)

He clicks down a pen, and his hands begins to write. He doesn't think of what to write-- his heart knows what he should be taking down, what he should begin to concern himself with.

The Resistance. The members. The former Inazuma Japan.

The Team. Tsurugi, his brother-- the Seeds, and which of them ever had a change of heart in the future. There was also Taiyou, and Mahoro. And Minimisawa.

The matches. When did everyone start cooperating? Around the end of the Mannouzaka match... so the second match of the Holy Road tournament. Teikoku was the third match, and that's where they met the Resistance.

That takes too long. What in the world has the Resistance been doing all the time before that? Just watching Raimon fall apart?

Tenma will incite the revolution with their next practice match against Eito. It'll take Shindou until the next match to decide fully. It'll take Sangoku until halfway through that second half before he joins. It'll take halfway through the next match for Tsurugi to have a change of heart along with everyone else, but then Tsurugi doesn't join well until the second half of the match with Teikoku.

Just thinking about it made him want to rip his hairs out in frustration.

Even after the revolution succeeded, there were reformation programs that had to be implemented all over the place, all over the country. It took so long, that even three years later there were still holes that had to be filled.

There was definitely a gap in power without the aid of Miximax and Avatar Armed (both which were now heavily restricted in official games,) and it was a hole that cost much of Japan's former prestige in the soccer world.

Really, the list of pains in the ass is getting longer.

So the answer is clear-- it might not be bad for things to go how they did before-- but if things could be better, Kirino believes that he has a responsibility to see the possibilities through. He's not the smartest-- but if there's something he is, it's level-headed.

Yeah, he can do this. He has to.

To prevent that worst case scenario from happening again, ever-- he's willing to do anything at all. Even if nothing now would ever be the same again, it's a risk he's willing to day, a sacrifice he's willing to make.

What more, really, can he begin to lose?