Isagi isn’t exactly aware of how violent he is in the field.

He isn’t aware that his words get a little harsher - okay, maybe not little but much harsher - spewing out insults that he, himself is unsure if he means it, and honestly? It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of him during those intense matches.

And he’s aware it’s all streamed on TV - and sometimes, he’s even taken aback by how he truly acts once he really gets into the game.

‘do I really act like that’? he often thinks as he rewinds the footage - of the way his looks would turn into glares, the way he’d cuss out players and practically grow slightly aggressive, but not aggressive enough to earn a red card and be subbed out.

so imagine his surprise once he’s back from blue lock, again, going back to your shared apartment - seeing you sitting on the couch, the TV playing with his most recent match.

he’s surprised - and of course, his heart swells. he finds it endearing, truly! he’s never realized how much he’s wanted his beloved to watch his matches, until now.

and then you approach him. and you put your hand out - like asking for a handshake, which is unusual. and he’s about to accept it, until your gaze on him turns into a glare - a glare! then, you mimic the exact same words he’s said to kaiser.

‘my finest clown.’ the words rings in his head. and the way you still look at him with that same glare - he can’t help the smile tugging the corners of his lips, as he barks out a laugh.

“hey! I don’t sound like that -“ he huffed out, dropping his duffel bag into the floor as he does eventually accept your hand, watching as your expression softens once more.

“do I?” He smiled, tilting his head to the side slightly as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss onto your head.