6. tell the country (tell the universe)

Epsilon loses.

The team leaves Okinawa, and from there, it's the fight with Diamond Dust.

Unfortunately, Kurama belatedly realizes that not everyone is on the same page about certain pieces of knowledge, and of course, he decides to fuck around and find out.

-

-

-

Kurama was doing well.

Dodging these aliens was tricky, but he's fought with Protocol Omega before. They were just as violent, just as eccentric– and Kurama knew exactly how people with too much strength control their moves to do the most damage without fouling.

Of course, he also knows exactly how to dodge them. Years of fighting against SEEDs and El Dorado's goons ingrained these instincts right into his core.

That's why, when he swerves right aside one, bumps the ball right over their heads, and feints to throw off a mark– it was much too easy.

"How on earth does he move so well against these guys?" Rika says. " We're the ones that have been fighting against 'em!"

"They're faster and stronger than before," Kidou says. "Focus or you'll be left behind!"

It wasn't going well.

Butterfly Dream didn't work. Twin Boost was less than a threat. The Phoenix was blocked perfectly. Kurama could try going for Maximum Circus again, but he was more heavily marked than the others. Even if he managed to do it, it took too much strength only to end up blocked, too.

Desperate defending only wore everyone down worse.

And then Desarm switched into Forward, Fist of Justice failed, and somehow, things got even worse than before.

-

Kurama definitely doesn't miss being gutted by a soccer ball.

They start targeting him, since he gets through most of their defenses. They charge into his tender shoulders and he tries to brace against it, to no avail. He's thrown into the ground and Kurama thinks his arms are telling him he's being a fucking idiot, or maybe that's just his own head, he's not sure.

Either way, he struggles to get up only for someone to run right in, a foot stomping right against his wrist, eliciting a pained howl.

"Oh, my bad," the member of Epsilon turns toward him, a sinister smile growing on his face as he extends a hand as an offer of help. "Didn't see you crawling down there."

Kurama curses. No one saw that? Alright, fair– their attention is on the ball. But still.

"Well fuck you, then," he grinds out, standing up on his own, cradling his hand, tightening the strap around his wrist and biting back from whining about the pain. He forces himself through, back into the game.

The game was hard enough without his faulty shoulders dragging him down even more.

Behind him, the alien scoffs. "Bringing a player with such an obvious weakness onto the field? Sure he's got a good shot, but he's one crash away from a hospital. What a joke."

Kurama pretends not to hear it.

He can fight.

And they can fuck off.

-

In the end, Gouenji has to show up to save the day.

Everyone was dead on their feet, but seeing Gouenji Shuuya show up on the field again breathed life right back into them.

"I didn't know you could play that well," Gouenji says, taking Kurama, mindfully not by the wrist but by the arm, gently lifting him back to his feet.

"I didn't know you'd take forever to get here either, but we can't all have nice things," Kurama grounds out. "Anyways, I'm sitting out. Destroy them, yeah?"

Gouenji chortles at the phrasing.

"I'll try."

-

"Hell of a way to debut in the soccer world," Kurama groans, sitting down on the bench, right beside Fubuki. "First I don't score a single goal, and then oh-so-amazing Gouenji Shuuya comes in to steal my glory."

"You can cry about that later, just let us see that."

Aki runs by with an ice pack, and Megane carefully unlatches the brace to reveal purpling, swollen skin.

Megane curses, "this doesn't look good."

"It hurts like a bitch, so if it was nothing, I'd be surprised," Kurama says dryly.

"What the– how long have you been playing with this?!" Aki chides, "are you hiding any other injuries? You better spill."

"None, none, promise."

It was nice to be pampered like this, even if they were scolding him. They watched, from the bench, as Endou whirls right through with an evolution on his hissatsu. Gouenji whirls right back, lighting the team on fire once again.

"GOAL! Gouenji takes a goal from Desarm's impenetrable defenses! With his new hissatsu technique, Bakunetsu Storm– the flame striker, Gouenji Shuuya has made his comeback!"

It was Raimon.

Spirited, loud, unnecessarily dramatic– youthful and tiring– it was Raimon, and the soccer they risked their lives to fight for.

"And that's the whistle for the end of the match! Raimon WINS against Epsilon Remastered!"

Kurama sees everyone charge into Gouenji as he scores a goal, cheer as they win, fight against them with combination shots– and try their hardest, yelling through their efforts– and Kurama feels warm inside.

"I'm home," he whispers.

Aki looks up. "Did you say something?"

Kurama shakes his head. "No, just thinking that this is a nice team."

"Eh, you're taking both my boys away from me? Talk about a homewrecker," Hijikata says, pouting slightly.

"I'm not your boy," Kurama hisses.

"Thank you very much for all your help, Hijikata," Gouenji says, like a normal person.

-

Fubuki isn't doing great. It's a great juxtaposition to the stable, calm Hakuren Coach Kurama is used to seeing– but he supposes things change over the years.

In great contrast to that, Gouenji assimilates back into the team very well. They start playing soccer calmly on the field after Epsilon leaves, and it's a heartwarming sight. Rika takes to Gouenji competitively, though she's hardly a tough fight for him.

Kurama deals with getting his arm wrapped in a cast before joining in.

"You're really good at ball keeping," Ichinose notices.

Kurama bumps it over Ichinose's shoulder, does a little spin, and catches it on the back of his neck to bounce it back to the front, and hops it at his knee.

"They mainly just look fancy," Kurama says, "in a real match, one charge will take me out."

"It's still beyond me, though," Ichinose hums, bumping it up to his head only to miss it on the way down.

"Well, you'll get used to it. It's something anyone can do, with enough practice."

Ichinose chuckles. "You're surprisingly a humble guy, huh?"

Kurama looks away. "Humble isn't what I would call it... I'm frustrated too, when I'm not up to par. I know better than anyone that my skills aren't enough."

"Now you're just pessimistic."

"I'm being realistic!" Kurama argues.

Ichinose grins, "is realism really necessary when we're fighting aliens? We can only go up from here, yanno?"

Kurama grimaces. "I want to disagree for a variety of reasons, but I can't."

It's so strange, to have downtime like this. Kurama didn't remember much of this back with Raimon, what with the political battle they were thrust into, one after another. Kurama almost wished they had time to just enjoy themselves like this, but back then, they were always too worried about being at the mercy of soccer itself.

With Fifth Sector, then the soccer ban, then the fate of the entire universe on their shoulders... At that time, it was almost suffocating to be a soccer lover. It was refreshing to see all of them right now, just brushing off the threat of aliens because they couldn't do anything about it anyway.

"Hey, can you go super saiyan again?" Gouenji says.

"You're the last person that's allowed to call it that," Kurama growls.

"I didn't get to see it properly in the stands," Gouenji just continues talking, refusing to address the super saiyan part. "What even was it?"

"Ah, that's right! Gouenji still doesn't know that Kurama's an alien!"

"You're a what?" Gouenji pales.

"I'm not an alien!" Kurama explodes. "Not in the way you think! Stop that, you punks, you're doing this on purpose!"

-

They leave Okinawa promptly, heading home to Inazuma Town.

Saying goodbye again was strange, but Kurama thinks he might have to get used to this. HIjikata wishes him well, and the Oumihara Team bids them good luck. Tsunami comes along, and the team grows bigger.

"The others told me about your situation," Gouenji approaches Kurama, as the boat sets off. "Seems like you've got it tough, too."

Kurama chuckles. "I guess. Well, nothing to do but wait. So I can help save this world while I'm at it."

"Well, we'd appreciate that," Gouenji says, a resigned smile on his face. "Are you seriously seventeen, though?"

"Is that another jibe at my height?"

"..."

"Alright, anyone got a soccer ball? I'm going to blow your head off."

"With a soccer ball?"

"No, I'm summoning a snake."

"A– okay, no," Gouenji says. "I think you have anger issues."

"Whose fault is that?!"

Quarreling with Gouenji felt like a chat with Tsurugi. Full of heat, yet, none lasted. Instead, there was this mild respect between them– a rivalry.

Kurama couldn't help but find that rather amusing.

-

"Mixi-max is different," Kurama tries, "it's like, they take your... power? Aura? Your fighting spirit? And then they just fuse it with another person."

The entire team was staring at him like he was explaining fantasy power systems. They're all on the boat on the way back to Inazuma Town now, and it's quite a ride.

"You've got to have some sort of compatibility, or it won't work," Kurama says. "And the person receiving the aura can't be too much weaker or stronger than the other, either."

Kidou squints, though it was hard to tell through his goggles. "So, through the use of this Mixi-max thing, you gained adult Fudou's soccer skills?"

"I also have Someoka-san's," Kurama says.

"Someoka?!"

"Ah, yes," Kurama says, backing away when everyone leans a bit too close. "Why are you so surprised? Trainer Kidou, you were the one that said it'd work because our personalities were literally the same."

"Huh?" Kidou asks.

"Hold on, did you just say Trainer Kidou?"

"I don't really think your personalities are the same, though," Haruna hums. It takes her a moment to realize, "ohh, I see. You're both Tsunderes."

"What was that?!" Kurama bristles. "Otonashi-se— I mean, Otonashi-san, I won't take that comment lying! Hey! Why are you running?!"

"Did you almost say Otonashi- sensei?"

"Wait, I think we've been forgetting a very important question," Touko says, a little bewildered. "You're from ten to thirteen years in the future, right? Then you know us?"

"Huh?" Kurama turns around. "Did I not mention that already?"

All of a sudden, everyone's attention is on him now.

"Ten to thirteen years in the future?"

"What are we?"

"You know adult us?!?"

"Hey hey, chill it, guys!" Kurama hisses, one-armed but not afraid to weaponize the can of orange juice in his hand. "I don't know everyone! Most of you probably went on to play for soccer leagues around the world, geez!"

"Trainer Kidou? Trainer? Traineerrr??"

"You coach in Teikoku!" Kurama explains loudly because Kidou is staring at him from an inch away and it terrifies him. "Like, part time or something! But then you came over to Raimon once as a temporary Trainer, so you're still Trainer Kidou to us!"

"Oh, I'm Teikoku's coach, huh. I guess it fits..." Kidou hums, "wait, Raimon?"

"Raimon?"

"Did you just say Raimon?"

"Kurama, you're from Raimon?"

"KURAMA YOU'RE FROM RAIMON?!"

The time traveller pointedly looks away, hands held up defensively as he mumbled, "oh, uh, we didn't tell you? I could definitely sweeeear we told you..."

"NO?!"

"Liar! You definitely avoided saying the name of your school every time we asked! Liar!"

"Ah, by the way," desperate topic changer, because Kurama is bad at this. "Our advisor is Otonashi-sensei, but Endou Mamoru's our coach."

"ENDOU?!"

"Is Raimon alright?!"

"Who in their right mind trusted Endou with the job??"

"I'm offended!" Endou yells, very irked as he throws his hands into the air at the utter betrayal presented among his beloved team right now, "I can be a coach! I'm the captain, aren't I? That's like, one step away from the coach!"

"No it isn't!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it definitely is not!"

"Yes it absolutely IS!"

-

The Inazuma Caravan looks different. Which makes sense, it's an old car, after all. The caravan they have in the future is so much more modern, and it could still be transformed into the time machine version when Wondeba scanned a particular card and key code combination.

"What's the hold up, Kurama?" Endou asks, as they hurriedly file their way up the van.

Kurama set a hand on the side of the car– and he spent a moment in silence.

It's a different car. There's nothing here that's familiar, but the thought of heading up the Inazuma Caravan left a bitter hurt in his chest.

Rika was looking out the window now, talking to Ichinose who was helping the managers with some of the supplies. Kurama looks at it and sees nothing but himself, and the crowd that wished them well toward Holy Road.

It hurt.

"No..." he says. "Nothing."

Kurama carefully made his way up. He pointedly avoids the open seats in the back in favour of one near the front.

He doesn't look out the window. He sits by the aisle instead.

It's bittersweet.

-

Inazuma Town is warm and familiar and painfully different in some parts. Things are older, signs are rusty, buildings are cleaner in parts and suited with age where they would eventually be replaced.

"Alright! Let's go home for today!" Endou brightly suggests.

And no one disagrees— everyone's craving for a day of actual rest. So they part ways for the evening, all the outsider members heading to the Endou house at the promise of his mother's meat and potatoes.

"What's wrong, Kurama?"

"Ah... no, it's nothing."

The riverbank field feels and looks different. In the future, there are more sheds along the sides, the overpass got a renovation, and the field lines were repainted. But it's not different enough to feel foreign, and that hurts.

Kurama could look in any direction and be inevitably filled with reminders of what he'll never get again. Late evening hissatsu trainings with Tenma and Shinsuke, impromptu picnics when Aki would come by with refreshments, or even last-minute trips with Hamano and Hayami to arcades, Rairaiken, or the fishing hole— he'll never experience any of that ever again.

(Maybe it's too late to realize that.)

Kurama sighs, leaning in just a little closer to Kabeyama as he sighs. Maybe the meat and potatoes would be worth this.

He doesn't get much time to think, or time to enjoy the promised food, because a soccer ball plunges down from the heavens and a haunting voice echoes through the field.

"We of Diamond Dust will be waiting in the Football Frontier Stadium. If you don't come, we will be destroying Tokyo indiscriminately."

There are many things Kurama misses about his timeline.

Right now, he mourns the ability to shove this hilarity in Kariya's face. Your dads were teenage terrorists, Kariya, I'm not even joking, and they were good at their job.

Frustratingly so.

-

Kurama sits on the bench.

"Is this place familiar to you, too?" Fubuki asks.

Kurama is honestly relieved it isn't. Football Frontier Stadium gets a complete renovation in the future into the Holy Road Stadium, and no trace of its old form remains.

"The bizzarity of it feels like home," Kurama says. "But everything else is different."

Fubuki doesn't follow that up with an opinion of his own.

Diamond Dust shows up, and the match begins, just as one-sided as any would expect. Fubuki's hand closes over his knee in frustration, and Kurama understands.

There's nothing either of them can do, even if they go out now. Perhaps, at his peak, Fubuki could do it— but not now. He can't do anything. They're all too weak.

"Hey, Kurama-kun... are you disappointed? In the Raimon right now," Fubuki says. "I'm sure you have such great impressions of us in the future, or maybe you don't... but I'm sure what you're seeing now... it isn't what you're used to. It's pretty sad, isn't it?"

They're all upset. That's clear.

Kurama doesn't know if anything he says will make this better.

"We've been in pretty hopeless situations before, too, in the future," Kurama says. "But there's this guy... he reminds me of Endou, actually. And he never falters. He's always charging straight on, trying to aim higher, he never stops getting stronger. And he's always there to tell us that things will work out, no matter how hopeless things look. And things always do. It's the Raimon spirit, you know... to thrive in the darkest times."

"...He sounds like a cool guy," Fubuki says, "is he your captain?"

Kurama hesitates.

But he nods. "Yeah, he's my captain," he says. "But in truth, the ones to leave that kind of legacy in the first place... it was you guys. This generation, the legendary second coming of Inazuma Japan. You guys made history, and we inherited it. So I'd never be disappointed in the Raimon right now."

Fubuki falls silent, biting his lips.

It's really hard to believe.

But Kurama can't be lying. Maybe he's exaggerating, buttering things up. But somewhere deep inside, Fubuki wants to imagine he's overcome this impossible wall one day. Overcome it so completely that he thrives, as a living legend, enough to gain the respect of someone like this whose feelings don't change even after seeing him in this state.

"You're not being very realistic," Fubuki says, half-heartedly. "What could possible bring us out of this situation?"

Gazel shoots the ball toward the goal, and it shatters through The Tower, barely stopped by The Wall. It wasn't even a hissatsu shoot. Things were hopeless.

"Well... I don't know," Kurama says. "But in the past when things got to this degree, someone always comes to help. To give us the strength to go on."

"...someone...?"

Kurama nods. "Might be someone annoying. Someone nice. Someone we hate. It doesn't matter," he grins. "But the tides will turn, as long as the winds of revolution blows our way."

-

When Aphrodi shows up, Kurama is honestly a little— how'd you even say this. Speechless.

"Who's that?"

"We fought him in the Football Frontier finals."

Kurama tries his best to really attempt to form a coherent thought. Everyone's greeting him with apprehension, prepared for battle— and even after he expresses his wish to fight alongside them, he's met with skepticism.

Kurama is filled with the unending urge to go up there and get really defensive about him.

It reminds him of Tsurugi, when he first changed sides. And he knows, better than anyone else, what a waste of time it is this note of reckless distrust can cause.

"You're all being real hard on him," Kurama says.

"It can't be helped," Haruna sighs, "we did get into quite a rough patch during the Zeus match... it isn't exactly easy to just forget it."

Kurama mulls over that. But this is certainly the tide change the game needed. They'll turn around in time, just like history dictates, and he doesn't have to worry about the outcome of this match.

The problems come after it.

Of course, the rest of this is lost history. Kurama has no idea how they transition from here to the next battle, or how they win— he just knows they do, to achieve their happily ever after. He doesn't need to do anything, and things will still go on smoothly.

But it doesn't sit well with him at all. Raimon can't stay as it is. Neither can Kurama, because nothing will be the same ever again. They can't grow if they stagnate.

So it's all Kurama can do to...

...to find a purpose, and do something .

(But what can one little human do? It's this late in the game, too. Kurama isn't even strong enough to earn a position to join this match, what does he think he can do?)

He sighs, looking up.

And he freezes, when he catches sight of two figures in the gallery, red hair and orange jacket standing out against the greys of the seating.

Kurama stands up.

"Woah!" Megane yelps, lunging over to catch the bottle in Kurama's lap that drops, "what's up with ya?"

"I'll be right back," Kurama says.

"What— you can't just leave the bench?!"

Kurama does.

-

"Oh dear. Someone found us."

"What's this? Some human brat came over," Nagumo groans, turning toward Kurama as he catches his breath. "You're not supposed to see us. So have some common sense and walk away before you get hurt."

Kurama clicks his tongue.

"Shut it with that bravado," he sneers. "I know neither of you are aliens, so spare me the species superiority charade."

Their brows furrowed in annoyance, and confusion.

"You don't believe we're aliens?" Hiroto says, chuckling. "That's curious. You've seen our strength... are you a skeptic? Or a conspiracy theorist?"

"I'm a realist," Kurama says, arms folding.

Hiroto chuckles, lighthearted. "So? Did you have something to ask us? Is this an interview, perhaps? We don't accept questions usually, but we're willing to listen."

Kurama wants to throw a punch, but that'd probably hurt his own arms before he'd ever be able to hurt them, so he doesn't try.

But now that he's this close— he knows.

He can feel it, thick and pulsating, sickeningly sweet— the smell of a source of strength that isn't human, isn't earthly. He recoils from it and Asura arms against it— it's the strength of something that corrodes the human spirit in exchange for insurmountable power.

Humans should never strive for this kind of power. It'll feel great, it'll fix most of their problems— but it'll also eventually ruin them, altering their structure permanently with damage no one considers, until it ultimately leads to their downfall.

Just like the Second Stage Children.

Just like the timeline Kurama comes from.

And Asura, a divine being that knows full well the repugnant nature of these measly ambitions, knows full well that none of Aliea knew what they were getting into.

"Whatever you're doing to get this power of yours... you should stop," Kurama says, hands tucked into his pockets. "You'll destroy yourself eventually. No, maybe it's already begun to destroy you guys."

Nagumo scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Is that all you have to say?"

Hiroto, however, is frowning. "I don't really understand. You seem to have some strange idea about what we are... we're not on the same page at all in this conversation, and I'm confused, what exactly are you trying to achieve here?"

Kurama clicks his tongue. Of course they're not taking him seriously. Even back in the original timeline, they never took things like this seriously, too.

Keshin, Mixi Max, Souls— these were strengths, too, that everyone thought were favourable and without consequences. But then the energy consumption of Keshin began to permanently damage their bodies. MIxi Max began to mess with their heads. Souls, it permeated their very instincts. El Dorado even deemed Mixi Max illegal on all other occasions from then, not that it ever stopped the children from enjoying themselves.

They just never let the risks stop them.

Kurama ached to know there would always be children in the soccer world ruining themselves in the pursuit of strength.

It ached to know that his beloved sport was due to be woven with this kind of miserable destiny, no matter the era and dimension.

"Where'd you even come from, anyways?" Nagumo says, "Did Raimon pick you up in Okinawa or something?"

Kurama sighs. "Well, I warned you," he relents, giving up. They healed up fine in the future, anyways. They won't turn out like his Raimon— these kids are fortunate. "Hope you stop pretending to be aliens soon."

"Hey, you picking a fight?!" Nagumo snaps, a growl in his voice, "I don't give a shit that you don't believe we're aliens, but you better stop acting so damn cocky about it, want me to send you to the hospital, punk?!"

"Sure, go ahead," Kurama says, nonchalant. "Wouldn't be my first rodeo or anything."

Nagumo steps confrontationally forward, but Hiroto stops him.

"He's not worth it," Hiroto says. Then, turning back to Kurama, "he's far too weak to be a member of Earth's strongest. We won't have to fight him, either way."

Kurama huffs.

"Of course I'm not," he mutters. "Real fucking aliens don't care if they're facing the Earth's strongest. If they want to crush the world, they'd do it, and they'd sabotage their way through it if they have to."

"This kid seriously pisses me off!" Nagumo snarls, a crack breaking through his cheek as he gets furious, "hey, let go of me, Hiroto, i'mma strangle this— this pompous midget!"

"You're not that much taller, Nagumo," Hiroto says.

"Are you picking a fight too?!"

Kurama raises a middle finger at them. Nagumo breaks into a chase, and Kurama bolts .

Hiroto sighs in defeat, palm meeting his face.

-

Raimon against Diamond Dust continues, with Nagumo chasing Kurama through the gallery, occasional cursing preceding every failed attempt at catching.

Kurama knows how a Hunter thinks.

Asura is a being of envy, of desires, of divine ambition that ultimately fails. Despite this, spite drives him further on into the path of an anti-god. And he continues to climb, wading through the corpses of his misgivings, onward.

That is why Kurama can stay calm, despite everything. That is why he can compose himself, even though all he wants is to curl up and cry, for the rest of his life.

He knows that will fix nothing, even if it'll make him feel better.

"So, what happened to the other teams, anyways?" Kurama asks, from one end of the chairs to the other. "The teams that lost against Raimon before this."

"You mean Gemini Storm and Epsilon?" Nagumo hopes onto the seats charging forward. It's honestly impressive how his stamina never fails— must be the alien tech. "Who cares? Banishment, I don't give a shit about those weaklings."

"Weren't they your friends?"

Nagumo scowls. "Friends? Of course not. Only the strong matter."

(Kurama vividly remembers Sun Garden in the summer, where the club would go over to help out. Every time one of the kids cried because of them, Nagumo would stare him down like Satan himself. Kurama understood the lesson of 'do not bully the weak' with a very nostalgic ache of a flaming fist to the head.)

And yet.

"Why would I give a crap about those no-names, anyways?" Nagumo snorts, "they're insignificant to our cause!"

(Nagumo watches over his brothers with all the love in his heart to spare. He drops out of school, so he stays at Sun Garden in the future, becoming the official caretaker while Hitomiko isn't around. No one expects that from a guy as crude-looking as him, and yet, no one that's actually met him thinks there's a better person for the job.)

(He never misses a chance to brag about his brothers, how many of them have successful jobs, and shamelessly, how his livelihood is sustained by leeching off of them. He's proud of them, and they, him.)

And yet.

Kurama can't help but feel utterly heartbroken by what he's seeing.

This isn't the Nagumo he knows. Of course it isn't— this is him, under the control of the Aliea Meteorite, blinded by a warped ambition that isn't who he truly is, possessed by a desire for power.

"You should treasure the friends you have now," Kurama says, belatedly realizing he sounds preachy. "Because they're the ones that really matter in the end."

"Huh?"

The ending whistle of the game screeches out, and both heads turn to the end of the game. Everyone's baffled by something— maybe it's because Endou just made a fist form from his head— and the score ends at an upsetting tie.

Hiroto enters the field to mediate the aftermath, and Nagumo clicks his tongue.

"Oh, screw this," he mutters. "You better fucking remember this, you human midget. I'm going to destroy you on the field, so don't you dare run away."

Kurama hums.

"By the way," Kurama says, hefting himself over the ledge and gauging whether this was a safe distance to jump down, "unlike you, I'm an actual alien. So I really do think you guys are putting on an awful performance."

"HUH?!"

Kurama starts running again. Cursing in confusion, Nagumo gives chase once more.

They end up skidding to a stop when they reach the rest of the team, and Kurama hurries to duck behind a very confused Ichinose.

"You brat! You explain yourself right now, you coward!" Nagumo snarls, winding around the bodies, but Kidou warily stops his advance one way, and Aphrodi feels obliged to ward the other direction while Touko holds up her hands in a universal stop indication. "HEY!"

Kurama sticks a tongue out at him.

"I'll kill you!" Nagumo shrieks.

"What did you do?!" Kogure hisses.

"Don't you ever, you know," Kurama says, "have the urge to poke a bear sometimes?"

"You poked a living volcano, you dummy!"

"Now, Burn," Hiroto speaks up, suppressing the chuckles in his throat, "I'm sorry to interrupt you while you're having fun, but we'll have to leave." Also, Gazel is giving them all the stare of death. "Come on, or we'll be leaving you behind."

-

"So, what did you do?" Kidou interrogates him, as soon as they're out of the stadium.

"We just talked," Kurama says, shrugging like he didn't just pick a fight with a dangerous enemy that they barely forced a draw against. "A conversation, from one asshole to another. It's like, a mutual resonance or something. It enriches us. Photosynthesis."

"You're just saying whatever you want now and pretending it makes sense," Kidou grumbles.

"Diffusion."

"Hey."

Kurama continues to hide behind Ichinose, who's just very confused at this point for being the assigned shield. Rika is glaring at Kurama for that, but Kurama doesn't really care at the moment.

"Speaking of, what are those lines anyways," Kurama traces down his eye, leading down to his cheek, "he got them when he got angry."

"He always had them," Touko says. "He probably hides them when he takes a human disguise, right? Like that Hiroto guy does."

"Hiroto also looks different as an alien," Endou says.

Kurama balks. "For real? Doesn't that, you know... hurt?" he says, cringing.

"Well, now that you mention it..." Touko says, "do you think that getup is just dramatics, or it is something like your super saiyan mode?"

"Please stop calling it that," Kurama says, "but that's got to hurt. Even my Mixi-Maxes hurt the first time, you know?"

"They do?"

"Yeah, of course. Artificially augmenting a human body with power that shouldn't naturally occur is never a good thing," Kurama says, "seriously, those Aliea guys... do they wanna die, or something?"

Of course, he wouldn't put it past them to be dramatic at their core, but they've clearly been warped somewhat, from their sense of empathy and care for each other, and blindly, they're driving themselves further up a wall in search of acknowledgement.

Kurama sighs, "well, it's not like I don't get how they feel but... why are you staring at me?"

Hitomiko is the most startled of all, while everyone just grows clearly perplexed.

"No... just, what do you mean, artificial?" Gouenji asks.

"I'm sorry, did we never explain to you that they're aliens?" Ichinose wonders, "they're not... humans..."

Kurama looks around him, flabbergasted. They're dead serious. Even Kidou. And honestly Kurama doesn't blame them, maybe his own world view is just weird since this is hardly the weirdest thing he's ever experienced— but then that means he's had the wrong idea about this all the time.

They do not currently know that Aliea aren't aliens. Like, deadass, no doubts. What the hell.

"How are you so sure?" Hitomiko says, composing herself, "that they're not aliens, but are artificially augmenting their bodies? Is this related to your own powers?"

"No! I mean," Kurama hesitates.

There's no real point to hiding this at this point, but he isn't too sure either. All he knows about the Aliea incident is hearsay, so he definitely isn't he most appropriate person to explain this, he'll get the details wrong.

"I thought it was... obvious."

Great. Now he just sounds like an ass.

"I mean, Coach Hitomiko, you're on our side," Kurama says, starting to sulk. "Then clearly you disagree with Hiroto, right? That's why you're here, you're trying to form a team that can fight them to try to change their mind?"

There's silence once more.

He looks up, and Coach Hitomiko is completely pale.

"Wait... what do you mean by that?" Kidou says. "Coach Hitomiko..."

"You're joking, right?" Endou says, trying his best to salvage the situation. "Cause for a second I thought you were implying that Coach Hitomiko's originally from their side..."

Oh.

Oh, oops.