It's for Agon-kun.

Unsui doesn't remember hearing anything else over the dull roar in his ears, but he knows he'd smiled, bowed politely and shut the door as he'd said, Thank you, I'm sure my brother would be happy to hear that, though he's reasonably sure Agon wouldn't feel much of anything. There are so many schools and organizations trying to recruit him already that Unsui knows there's nothing new to this, nothing special about an overseas scholarship program.

Agon doesn't even like football.

Routine steadies his hand as he jots down the note (but this one isn't like the others, he doesn't bother saying where he'll go or when he'll be back because Unsui doesn't know so well himself, he just wants to get out of this house for a while and be somewhere- someone- else; I talked to the office, they mixed up our names- the scholarship is yours, congratulations).

He smooths out the letter, wrinkled from a short sprint through the rain, as best he can and leaves it on Agon's desk, and he takes a savage sort of pleasure in tearing the envelope with his name still on it in half, right through the middle between 'Kongo' and 'Unsui' and then again just for the hell of it.

Agon loves: himself.

He fucking loves himself. No one knows how great it is to be naturally talented, to be a genius from birth, no one knows how easy everything is for him better than he does. It's so simple for him to process information that he doesn't even do it purposely sometimes and he's never wanted to not be a prodigy but sometimes he wishes it weren't so easy. Sometimes he wishes he could just nottake everything in, that he could put his subconscious on hold and tell it not to bother with dumb shit.

(And his brain just goes, Fuck you man, it's boring as shit in here, so either get me some booze or some fucking endorphins and by endorphins I mean pussy.)

He's not trying to read into it.

They mixed up our names.

He's not trying to read into it, but the paper's crinkled where Unsui had gripped it and the ink's runny in places where the rain had splashed (and Unsui never opens the mail outside and he never rips up the envelope and the pieces of it in the trash in the living room had been bone-dry- godlike observation skills are a pain sometimes).

There's an uncharacteristic weight in the even lines of the post-it Unsui had attached to the top of the letter. A heavy, ponderous space between each thoughtfully-inscribed character.

The only word that looks even remotely normal is the 'congratulations' at the end.

Congratulations on another scholarship, congratulations on being born a genius, congratulations, again, for being yourself.

Agon isn't trying to read into it. He knows Unsui means it.

He knows Unsui resents him, that sometimes he's envious, that his brother wishes they could trade places, but he also knows that Unsui is genuinely happy for him, proud of him without any qualifiers, no ifs ands or buts.

Congratulations, you're the reason I've been set up for disappointment again but I won't fucking hold it against you, because it's not like you can help being amazing or anything. You're my brother and I love you and nothing can change that even if I wish we weren't fucking related sometimes.

It's idiotic. This brotherly duty bullshit is a pain in the ass. If Agon were Unsui, he would punch himself in the mouth and tell himself to quit being such a fucking asshole.

In one reality, Agon sits down next to Unsui on the stairs in front of the shrine and in that reality he'll reach out and put his hand on Unsui's shoulder and his brother will take whatever Agon knows how to offer and he never has a chance to ask,

Are you here to laugh at me? so Agon never has the chance to answer.

Pity does nothing.

Unsui doesn't want it, and he isn't so sure that Agon's capable of anything even resembling a genuine show of compassion anyway.

(He could give a good approximation of it- Agon is Agon, and he can read people like books, so an imitation of real human emotion comes easily to him. Wide eyes and sympathetically quirked brows, a mild twist to his lips, a nod or laugh or encouraging sound at all the right places. Unsui remembers when they were nine and Agon'd said to him, Tell dad we're sorry now, he'll buy us ice cream, and they had and it had worked though he recalls actually being completely unrepentant for fighting because it had been Agon's suggestion, too, to play Dragonball.)

But whatever weakness, whatever inadequacies he has, Unsui has only ever hated letting people see them, being pitied. He'd hate to be another face in the crowd, someone who needs to be coddled, someone Agon would pretend to care about.

His twin has never, in all the years Unsui has known him (which is to say, all of them except perhaps for the most recent two or three), gone out of his way to be near someone who could drag down his mood. He has better things to do, better places to be, cold beer to drink and late-night television to watch.

They're brothers, is the only explanation Unsui can think of but he's tired of being Agon's brother. Agon has to be better than this; every time his twin acknowledges this gap between them, Unsui's reminded of it too.

(Agon'd known it since they were five and he would vault over gates to reach swing sets and Unsui would have to clamber over or take the proper entrance. And everything after had only reinforced that: when they were ten and he'd learned to ride their bike on his first try, when he'd effortlessly aced every test that Unsui had to study for, and Unsui would always come in at least one or two points behind- and he'd thought it then, too.

Maybe Unsui won't notice.

Maybe he'll accept this and go on as usual and nothing Agon says or does can push him away because he's his twin and there shouldn't be anything in the world that could pry them apart.

Maybe if Unsui weren't so smart, maybe if he couldn't see himself so clearly, maybe if he couldn't slot himself into the Big Picture as effortlessly as he does- but he's Agon's brother, and he's not stupid the way other kids are stupid.)

In one reality, Unsui checks himself. He doesn't tell Agon that this is his redemption; that it doesn't matter what anyone says or does, Agon only needs to rely on his own strength and his big brother will handle everything else. In that reality Unsui doesn't give Agon this first and only request because it doesn't lift a weight off his shoulders as he'd thought it would, it's only added one to his twin's as well and if he'd known it then, he would have kept his mouth shut.

He already wants to take it back, but living with a genius has steeled him for the consequences, often immediate ones, of the words he says. Agon hates it when people speak without thinking, but he hates people who would try and revoke what's irrevocable more, people who have the gall to lie so badly right to his face.

(But Unsui's never been like that. He's never said, 'Oh, I didn't mean that, I wasn't thinking,' it's only ever been 'Sorry, Agon, I shouldn't have said that out loud, but I really do think that you're a giant poop-head' because Unsui's not trash, he's Agon's brother, and he's slow and boring and inadequate, but he's Unsui.)

There's a pedestal and Unsui's put him on it and Agon likes it there, but maybe what he hates is that there's only room for one.

Not that he'd give it up or anything. Agon would never sacrifice anything of himself for someone else's sake. Not Unsui. Not their dad. Not whatever girl is hanging off his arm this week.

So Unsui's got his eye on Shinryuuji and there's no doubt in Agon's mind that his brother will make it in with no trouble, and Agon doesn't have any particular school he's burning to get into so that had been an easy choice. (Besides, Shinryuuji's got dorms and like hell Unsui's got any say in what Agon does with his time, he hasn't even tried to tell him that Hiruma's a bad influence- actually, Agon's pretty sure that at least on some deeply-buried level where his twin is an evil bastard, Unsui actually kind of respects that slimy piece of trash).

He's already signed up to take the exams and he doesn't talk to Hiruma outside of brief calls and texts informing him of some prime opportunities- for a fight or some tail or extra cash. So it's only by chance that Agon's passing Maoh's schoolyard, stalking some asshole who'd given him a dirty look a few hours ago, and he's liberating the guy of his wallet when he catches a glimpse of Hiruma and his crowd through the chain-link fence.

And what he thinks is, Wait, there's a fucking scholarship? So what's the point of even taking the exam?

And what he thinks next, after some more judiciously-employed lip-reading and observation, is, That fat trash is getting it?

It's only now that he remembers Unsui even mentioning the sports merit entrance, how Hosokawa Ikkyu's getting the other one (how excited Unsui'd sounded, about maybe getting to play with the MVP of Kanagawa's middle school football circuit if he makes it as starting QB, how he wouldn't shut up about it, how he'd rattled Hosokawa's stats off the top of his head) and Agon's just thinking, No fucking way.

A fat trash with nothing but power on the same level as Hosokawa Ikkyu? Bullshit.

Kurita can't throw a pass, can barely catch one, much less make it to the endzone in any reasonable amount of time. How the hell is he getting in on merit when Unsui's being a complete fucking bore at home with his nose buried in a practice book and when he's not studying he's running laps around the neighborhood or organizing scrimmage matches with his boring-ass middle school club-

Agon doesn't even like football.

God loves Agon but neither twin believes in God.

(They're Buddhist.)

It's all about detachment.

Unsui does it more or less properly, as always. Detachment from desire and greed and materialism, happily living as an ascetic at a school that's effectively a temple as long as he still gets to play his stupid game. (Which means that by definition, Unsui's already wrong, because he can't let go of football. Not that coach wants anyone on the team to stop giving a shit.)

Agon is always Agon, and he'll chase girls and drink and eat whatever he wants, go wherever he likes, collect brand-name watches and clothes and shoes like a little kid collects bugs or bottlecaps. (But then he'll turn around and discard it all without a second thought- he doesn't remember names for longer than a week unless he's constantly reminded, won't wear the same shirt two days in a row unless it's really exceptional or if he hasn't brought a spare to whatever apartment he's been invited to. Unsui knows that in some twisted way, Agon's closer to that nebulous state of enlightenment than anyone.)

It's all about detachment and Unsui's good at it- he's great at it- with the caveat that he's detaching from anything but football.

The first time he steps onto the field with Agon, the spectators are screaming for Ohjo (Tokyo's pretty far from home). The cheers drown out everything, collective shouts and groans, swelling and receding with the flow of the game, but he's not playing for the audience. By the end of the match, they're silent.

Agon just snorts, unclips his helmet and drops it on the bench as he whips out his phone and heads for the locker room.

(Silence is golden but victory is sweet. Unsui doesn't say anything when he shakes Takami's hand.)

The Kantou Tournament final that fall winds down with Ohjo trailing pitifully. Shinryuuji's away crowd, huge this time, is screaming Agon's name, shrieking for one last Dragon Fly before the ref blows his whistle and Agon's not surprised, it's the best fucking play in the book. Any formation that can change so easily on the fly, adapt so quickly to circumstance, take advantage of his speed and power in tandem with Unsui's range and vision- it's probably a fucking blast to watch. Almost as much fun as it is to run.

He's never denied being an egomaniac, and Agon's sure that Unsui knows what he's thinking- he's got a smug turn to his lips too- while Agon's personally busy drinking in the cheers, the roar of the crowd, the cute girls jumping and waving from the stands.

(Especially the cute girls jumping and waving from the stands.)

Agon looks over in time to catch Unsui mouthing the score as the announcer repeats it, in time to make eye contact, see the complete absence of surprise or excitement in his expression (and it occurs to him then, that Unsui loves winning but he likes being the cause better- but they're already in too deep with this dumb game and Agon's really starting to like it, though he's not gonna say so out loud or start thinking in terms of football like the other dorks on his team.)

There you have it, folks- the Shinryuuji Naga, indisputable gods of Kantou!

It's great. An entire school hanging their hopes on two freshmen, deafening adulation every time he takes the field, like little prayers he can grant if he feels like it, which usually entails winning- which makes Shinryuuji fans pretty fucking lucky, because any prayer the other team has, he'll crush without hesitation. He's not doing it for anyone but himself.

"The Christmas Bowl is in three weeks," Unsui informs him the way he never does- he prefers to remain optimistic until the day of, then he'll call and yell for a couple minutes before furiously hanging up like some girl (which is always hilarious for Agon)- and then he adds as he hands over a water bottle, smiling mildly, "Don't be late."

Agon's not playing for anyone but himself.

But if they're talking unshakable faith, about absolute conviction and resolve, then Agon has one up on God.