The rhythmic pounding of Akira's feet on the track put him in a trance, so it took him a long minute to process someone wailing. He immediately started glancing around for the source, and found a kid stumbling after him with a tear-streaked face. 

To anyone watching, it probably looked like Akira was being chased by a little sniffling monster. 

"Hey, hi, what's wrong?" Akira bent and started using his sleeves to clean the kid's face, while tiny fists clenched his pants, bunching the material. "Are you hurt?"

This was too much responsibility for Akira. He was an adult, sure, but he needed an adultier adult. And the kid was crying too hard to really answer, so Akira had to assume from his small match shirt that he was one of the children who'd been playing soccer earlier. 

Akira patted his head as comfortingly as he could. "Are your parents running late? You're waiting for someone, right? We can wait together."

It didn't take too long for the kid to calm down, and somehow, they ended up kicking a ball between them. Nugget, which was a very peculiar but adorable name, tried to teach Akira some tricks, but Akira was awfully clumsy. Every time the ball lifted, he reflexively caught it in his hands, which earned a scolding from Nugget. But it was fun. He liked diving for the ball and dramatically missing it so that Nugget scored. 

Then, from across the field, someone called, "Nugget!"

Akira startled, barely managing to trap the ball under his foot. He and Nugget both turned. 

A lean older student was striding toward them. His face was smudged with ink and charcoal, and with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his arms were not much better. Thick rings decorated his fingers, and woven leather bracelets hung around his wrists. 

He must be an artist, but by all appearances, a dangerous person. It looked like he smoked in clubs and beat people up in back alleys as a hobby. So his approach toward Akira was frightening, though less so since he looked close to death from exhaustion. 

"I'm so sorry, Nugget," he said, lifting the tearful kid into his arms for a hug. "I didn't mean to be so late."

"It's okay. I got to play more."

Akira nervously met that heavy gaze over Nugget's shoulder, and came forward to greet him. "Ah, I'm Akira. A first year. It's nice to meet you."

"Daichi." Without much feeling, he shook Akira's hand briefly, smudging it with charcoal. 

He exuded cold hostility, which made Akira shrink away from him. 

Akira hoped he'd leave so that he could breathe again, but Nugget turned around in Daichi's arm and surprisingly reached for Akira. A baffled Akira awkwardly allowed Nugget to climb onto him and appeared so incredibly confused that Daichi seemed to soften just a little.

"You've been adopted," Daichi said. 

Akira smiled as best he could. 

He wished he was a little funnier or that he could find something to say, but he was overwhelmed. He was fine being held by Nugget, but in order to send Daichi on his way, he needed to untangle the kid and return him. 

But clearly, Nugget hadn't fully forgiven Daichi for forgetting him.

Nugget was telling Daichi, “I miss the cicadas. Akira was saying that because the cicadas aren’t here, I should just climb a tree and scream in their absence.” 

“Was he now?”  Daichi glanced at Akira, who was relieved to see some amusement. 

“He even taught me the phrase ‘we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it’.” 

Daichi looked down like he was struggling not to laugh. His eyes even crinkled, just faintly, turning somewhat gentler. 

Akira felt the burning in his cheeks, and mumbled, “Sorry, I sort of sowed the seeds for something I didn’t think I’d have to address again. Don’t feed him any more dots.” 

“Dots?” Daichi asked. 

Akira held up an empty packet of raisins. “I told him they sometimes make you super energetic.”

“I said I was fine with it,” Nugget boasted.

“You’re very brave,” Akira told him.

"Can't we kick more?" 

It took a moment before Daichi could speak through his quiet laughter. "Akira's probably busy, and it's getting late. Your parents will complain again if I keep you up past your bedtime."

"But I want to play."

Akira chipped in, "Me, too, but look how dark it's getting. We'll have to play again next time. Aren't you hungry for something other than dots?"

Nugget reluctantly told him, "Yeah."

"I have snacks in the car," Daichi supplied. 

"Woah, you're getting snacks? That's so lucky!" Akira came closer to Daichi, getting ready to pass him the child. Nugget's grip tightened, so Akira blew a raspberry on his shoulder to distract him. "Is that your stomach grumbling?"

"No," Nugget giggled. "That tickles!"

"You're so hungry your stomach is tickling you?" Akira gasped. 

Nugget laughed even harder. "That's not it!"

"Oh no, the hunger's really getting to you. Quick, this is an emergency!" He passed Nugget to Daichi and stepped safely away. "The snacks are the only way to save him!"

Nugget grabbed the lapel of Daichi's shirt like he was riding a horse. "Quickly, quickly, you have to feed me!"

Daichi shifted him higher, securing him against his chest. Before he left, he shot a small smile toward Akira, which stunned Akira into thinking Daichi maybe wasn't all that scary.