cartoon trash

The crowd is oblivious, chanting Key’s surname, still riding the high of his showstopping goal. Key doesn’t revel in it for long, not once he turns to see what happened. Ragno can’t make out Key’s expression at this distance but he can picture it- the horror dawning in those bright eyes- before he turns and flees.

Ragno’s gaze tracks Key as he staggers off the field, disappearing from view somewhere below the stands. His emotions have tied themselves into a tight, confusing knot. He ought to feel some kind of dark satisfaction in watching his rival crash and burn, but he doesn’t. He’d like to say he didn’t think Key had that in him, but that’d be a lie. Ragno’s sensed that within him since his dragon first awoke.

Honestly, it’s almost more surprising that something like this hasn’t happened already. 

It feels like an eternity before the crowd catches on, but in reality, Ragno knows it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before someone starts screaming. The chanting and cheering turns into shocked exclamations as the referee’s whistle blows.

“Stop the game!”

“He’s hurt!”

“Where’s the medic?”

“Nagatatsu burned him!”

“The dragon burned him!”

“It was the dragon!”

Ragno feels his dragon bristle. He doesn’t stay to watch after that, turning away as the medic team rushes onto the field with a stretcher. Filing through the tightly-packed stands, he pulls his hood low over his face.

“What a monster…”

His dragon growls.

~

The first few days following the Bards game are rather uneventful for Ragno. 

He keeps himself informed; after Casper’s injury brought the game to a halt, Key was hit with a one-game suspension, barred from participating in the Knights’ next match. If they even have one, that is. Their captain is running herself ragged, scrambling to find a replacement in time while trying to hold her team together. Which is getting harder by the day with how much Key’s snapping at anyone who dares to encroach upon his self-imposed isolation (he’s moved back into the gym, last Ragno heard, entirely of his own volition).

Odward couldn’t seem to care less. He hasn’t quit the team, not officially, but he’d practically moved into the infirmary until Casper was released, and is now spending all his down time awkwardly hovering around the twins, much to their chagrin. Ragno wishes they’d just make up their minds already on whether or not they’re back together. The song and dance is getting tiresome.

The remaining members of the Knights have all but scattered to the wind. According to the rumor mill, Jelly Boy was seen running away from Key in tears, and has kept his distance since. And as for the little quiet girl… hell if Ragno knows. As things stand, it looks like the Knights are destined to end the same way as their last game; premature, messy, and defeated.

And that’d be perfectly fine with Ragno… if it weren’t for the way people are looking at him now.

He thinks he’s imagining it, at first. The way the other students seem to be averting their gazes or shrinking back when he approaches. It’s not a terribly uncommon occurrence; he knows he’s intimidating. But it didn’t used to be this frequent, or… afraid. There was a certain degree of respect and admiration that his position has brought him, and now, that seems to be slipping away, fast.

He’ll see people abruptly stop talking as soon as he’s in earshot, or leave the conversation entirely. He’ll feel wary eyes on the back of his neck, quickly darting away when he turns to meet them. He’ll hear the hushed whispers when they think they’re alone, something about ‘Ragno’ and ‘dragon’ and ‘dangerous.’

It doesn’t fully click until someone accidentally bumps into him in the hallway between classes. Some second or third year, Ragno thinks, whose name he can’t recall. All he does is grunt in annoyance, turning to see who the culprit was- but the student flees in terror, shrieking, “I’m so sorry, please don’t hurt me!” and leaving him blinking in the suddenly silent hall.

Ragno’s next class was so quiet, he could hear his own breathing.

But the real kicker doesn’t come until he’s at practice. It was one thing for kids he doesn’t know all that well to suddenly have a newfound phobia of him, just because he has a dragon tama. But it’s another thing entirely when he stomps up to Anansi after a missed save, shouting a correction- like always- and she flinches.

Ragno stops dead in his tracks. Anansi must realize the weight of it, because she’s hastily muttering an apology, but none of her many eyes will meet his gaze.

In Ragno’s periphery, he can see Behemot jogging over, looking concerned. But the hand he reaches out to put on Ragno’s shoulder is hesitant, and the “You okay?” he offers is so much more careful than normal. Like he’s walking a tightrope over the abyss.

Ragno says nothing- he can’t, he doesn’t trust himself to- and instead brushes Behemot off before storming off the field. He doesn’t care that he’s leaving before practice is over- he’s the captain, what would Sugoi say?- but Sugoi’s not here because she’s so wrapped up in Key and Key’s problems that she seems to have forgotten about hi- about the rest of them.

And with that thought, Ragno suddenly has a new direction for all this anger and hurt to go. His dragon curls around the ache in his chest and sets its sights eagerly on the hunt.

~

He finds Key at the Citadel.

It’s late, the sky fading from orange to purple as the sun dips below the horizon. The field and the stands are empty. None of Key’s little friends or fans seem to be around, not after he pushed them all away. 

Ragno hangs back in the shadows for a few minutes, observing quietly as Key runs shooting drills by himself with a line of spare balls. He’s not using his tama, not even a spark. And despite sinking goal after goal (his aim is improving, Ragno notes, mildly impressed) he still has an air of deep dissatisfaction about him. It’s evident by the tension in his shoulders, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

After the final ball is fired into the net, Key exhales harshly. He stares at the ground and kicks a tuft of grass. Ragno takes that as his cue and walks onto the field.

“Not a good time, Ragno,” Key says, without turning around. Of course he’d sensed Ragno already. “What do you want?”

Ragno’s dragon hisses its displeasure. “How is it that every time you have a problem with your tama, it comes back to bite me?”

That gets Key to turn, his face contorted in anger. “Oh, I’m so sorry if me maiming Casper has somehow inconvenienced you,” he snaps. And it’s interesting because all that vitriol only seems partially directed at Ragno- the rest of it is clearly internalized. The dark circles under his eyes speak of many sleepless nights.

Ragno folds his arms. “First of all, what happened to Casper was an accident. He was just standing in the path of your dragon’s fire. If you’d actually tried to maim him, he’d still be in the infirmary- or the Crypt.”

Key’s expression falters; this is probably the first time someone’s told him that. Which is- god, it’s so obvious to Ragno that that’s what happened. Of course Key didn’t mean to hurt Casper. Anyone who’s spent five minutes with Key would know it. Besides, at least he’d still been aiming for the goal. Casper had a different goal in mind.

Far as Ragno’s concerned, that’s just part of the game. You play with fire, you get burned.

“And second,” he continues firmly, “your lack of control over your tama is making people question mine.”

“Really?” Key looks taken aback. “Why?”

“Because we have the same tama.”

“So?”

“So,” Ragno growls, blood running hot with frustration, “people are starting to get nervous about dragon tamas. About how dangerous we are.”

“Oh.” Key looks away, a frown pulling at his lips. “I guess I didn’t think about it like that. I mean, you’re the Dragon Striker, you’ve more than proven yourself! I- I wouldn’t expect my mistake to reflect badly on you.”

“Well, it does.” Ragno stalks forward. “And so you’re gonna tell me something.”

Key stumbles backward, eyes wide. “Uh- yeah?”

“What happened?”

“Um, I- I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Yeah, you do.” Ragno backs Key against one of the stone archways that border the field. He leans in, bracing an arm over Key’s head. “What happened that made you lose control at the Cage?”

Key squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do.” 

“I don’t-”

“Stop lying!”

“Back off!” Key snarls. Blue flames flicker behind his gritted teeth.

“You’re doing it right now,” Ragno presses. He raises his voice. “How many times have you shoved your anger down? Huh? You can’t control your dragon if it’s bottled up all the time! All that power- it has to come out at some point.”

Unbeknownst to Key, Ragno saw what happened at the Golden Cage. He knows, more than anyone else present, exactly what went down, simply by virtue of his connection through their tamas. It was the first game Key played after supposedly mastering his tama- and yet, when his dragon had finally been unleashed, it wasn’t Key’s decision. His dragon had only tolerated the restraint for so long. The aborted play right at the halftime call had cinched it.

Key’s dragon is done waiting for him to be ready.

It makes Ragno wonder just how much practice time Key’s had with his dragon. Not just burning up small bursts of energy here and there, but truly letting his dragon out to stretch its wings. Letting it reach its full potential. Ragno might not use dragon fury for every game, but he puts in enough work in his downtime, with extra solo practice sessions, to keep his dragon satiated.

But Key’s clearly isn’t. Even now, Ragno can feel its presence, boiling just beneath the surface. Angry. Hungry. Yearning to be set free.

“Just let it out,” Ragno urges, his own dragon roaring in his ears, spoiling for a fight. “What are you so afraid of?”

Key’s eyes snap open. His slitted pupils are haloed in blue light.

“I said, back off!”

He shoves Ragno hard. Blue flames in the rough shape of claws engulf his arms, and the force sends Ragno flying several yards away. Momentarily weightless, he digs his own claws into the earth to anchor himself, coming down heavily on his feet in a crouch.

Key’s breathing hard, smoke curling out of his mouth. His hair has come loose, whipping about as blue flames swirl around him, and his eyes are wild and enraged. That’s not the look of the naive, starry-eyed farm boy who tripped his way onto a pedestal. That’s the look of a dragon inside a human body who wants nothing more than to tear Ragno apart.

(Ragno might’ve been jarred by the sight of it, if he hadn’t sensed this inside Key already.)

Then Key’s expression flickers as he staggers for a moment, clutching his head- he’s fighting it, Ragno realizes. Well, that just won’t do.

“That’s more like it!” he taunts. Reaching for his dragon, he catapults himself into the air, kicking two bursts of purple flame directly at Key. “Let’s see what you can really do!”

The first volley of fire batters against Key like a physical blow, knocking him back. But he dives to avoid the second one, pushing off the ground with a jet of his own blue flames. Swinging his feet around, he changes directions mid-air just as Ragno comes crashing down, smashing a crater into the field right where Key was standing only a heartbeat before.

But he’s not quite fast enough to avoid Ragno’s claws; he bats Key out of the air like he’s swatting a mousefly.

Crack!

Key’s thrown against a stone pillar. He drops to the ground on all fours, his sides heaving. He looks up at Ragno, teeth bared, eyes blazing with fury. Then his entire body shudders, wisps of flame sparking from his mouth like he’s choking on them.

“Come on!” Ragno shouts, spreading his arms out. His dragon is screeching gleefully inside his skull. “Stop holding back!”

He punctuates his words with a powerful fireball aimed right at Key’s face.

Key brings his arms up to block- and the purple flames explode on contact, blue streaks rippling through them. In the same motion, he launches himself forward at Ragno, closing the gap before he can blink. Key slams into him, his shoulder tucking right underneath Ragno’s rib cage, and it’s like being hit by a stone wall.

The impact sends Ragno into the stands. The strike to his diaphragm robs him of breath, his dragon temporarily stunned. He can’t quite right himself in time, crash-landing with enough force to split the ancient stone. Ignoring the ache for a moment, he wills his body to relax as he draws in a few slow, deep breaths. When he exhales, there’s fire.

Brushing rubble from his clothes, Ragno pulls himself to his feet. He rolls his shoulder and faces his opponent again.

Standing in the middle of the smoldering field, Key throws his head back and roars. His human voice, raw and furious, is echoed by the roar of his dragon. A plume of blue fire erupts from his mouth. More flames burst into existence around him, and Ragno can just make out the shape of wings- four massive, blade-shaped wings arching out of Key’s back- moving in tandem to lift Key into the air. He hovers for a few moments, jerking erratically as he struggles to coordinate his flight.

Ragno grins.

He doesn’t often get to use his dragon wings; there just aren’t a lot of tamas that take the game airborne, and it’s hard to keep possession of the ball while flying. He can’t help the sigh that escapes him as the magical appendages unfurl from between his shoulder blades. It’s a unique sensation. He doesn’t have complete feeling and control over them like a physical limb, it’s more like he’s gained two new limbs that have fallen asleep, all pins and needles radiating out from the small of his back.

Wings flaring, Ragno pushes off the ground and sails towards Key. But Key’s ready for him; what was meant to be a choke slam turns into a mid-air grapple, their wings curling around them like a blue-and-purple maelstrom.

A distant part of Ragno is aware they’re swooping in and out of the magical boundary that encloses the Citadel pitch, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Despite his smaller size, Key puts up a surprisingly good fight- but it’s not enough. Driving his knee up into Key’s stomach, Ragno finally loosens Key’s grip enough to hurl the other boy toward the ground. He sends a wave of fire after him like a comet tail.

Key only flails for a second before he turns into his fall, his wings tucking in to dive. Then he kicks out an arc of fire, spinning on his heel to shoot back up. Ragno’s flames smash harmlessly into the ground. Key climbs into the sky, blazing wings billowing around him, and then suddenly he’s enveloped in light.

Through the bright blue haze, Ragno can make out the silhouette of a dragon.

It’s just how he remembers it from the All Stars game, except for the color- it has a stockier build than Ragno’s, coincidentally, with a flatter muzzle and two pairs of small, beady eyes. Large horns and frills flare out from its skull, a thick tail lashing behind it. The air trembles from the intensity as the dragon lets out an ear-splitting roar.

And suspended within the center of this dragon is Key, moving as if the dragon’s limbs were his own, jaws split and lips curled back. His eyes and open mouth are glowing like he’s burning from the inside out.

Ragno tips his head back and lets his own dragon take over.

He doesn’t do this very often. It’s different from when he draws on his dragon’s power to summon tamas during a game- different from all his other interactions with it, really. Having a dragon tama is having a creature living inside him; but rarely, in moments like these, he can feel what it’s like for the roles to reverse. For him to be living inside the dragon. It’s a dizzying kind of power, like being submerged in pure electricity.

(And he knows Key can feel it, too.)

The two dragons collide in the air with a sound like thunder. Claws tear violently at flaming scales and wings. Ragno’s dragon clamps its jaws down on the back of Keys’ neck, and Key responds with a tail whip across the face. They curl and writhe around each other as they dart across the sky, spitting flames all the while, until they arc into a death spiral snaking towards the ground. 

Ragno waits until the last possible second to wrench himself out of Key’s grip, flaring his wings out to interrupt his descent. Key manages to bite down on one of Ragno’s wings as he smashes into the ground, throwing off Ragno’s trajectory. He clips the earth as he sails into an ungraceful landing, plowing a deep groove into the field. 

Key hits the ground head-first, a massive boom echoing throughout the stadium. When the dust settles, Key’s dragon is gone.

Ragno’s dragon hasn’t fared much better- he manages to get his legs under him, but he can feel the magical form wavering. One of his wings has a chunk torn out of it, drooping awkwardly at his side. Black light seeps out of deep gashes on his flank, bubbling onto the grass. But Ragno himself, still floating within the dragon’s core, is none the worse for wear.

Key, fully human again, picks himself up out of the newly formed crater on shaky legs. “Wow,” he says, his voice incredibly small in the abrupt silence. He stares up at Ragno’s dragon in awe before looking at his own hands. “I… I’m okay. You’re okay.” He sounds stunned. “We’re… okay.” 

Ragno’s dragon lets out a deep, rumbling growl, taking a single step forward. But Key simply looks over without a trace of fear, because he can already sense what Ragno does- and Key’s dragon responds to the call in kind, a low crooning sound that Ragno hears more in his mind than anything else.

It’s not a threat or a challenge. It’s an acknowledgement of mutual respect. A visceral understanding between two creatures who’ve recognized themselves in each other.

“Stop!” 

Ragno freezes, his dragon dissipating instantly. He knows that voice. He lands hard, catching his breath, and looks over to see Sugoi standing at the sidelines. The Knights’ captain- Ssyelle, was it?- is beside her, out of breath, fear in her eyes as she takes in the scene. She must’ve seen them and run to get Sugoi, Ragno realizes with sinking dread.

“Key!” she shouts as she sprints onto the field. “Are you okay?!”

Key whirls around in surprise. “Huh? Yeah, I’m- oof!” He’s nearly knocked over by the force of Ssyelle colliding with him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Ssyelle breathes. She pulls back enough to quickly look Key up and down, relief falling over her face, before she turns to glare at Ragno. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Ragno opens his mouth to defend himself, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Ragno Garanthar!” Sugoi marches across the field towards them, expression furious. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear that this sort of behavior would not be tolerated.” Her voice is just shy of yelling, and Ragno feels himself shrink back as she looms over him. “You leave me no choice but to-”

“Wait!” Key leaps in front of Ragno, arms outstretched. “It’s- it’s okay! He’s not attacking me- or, I guess he kinda is, but- but it’s cool!”

“What?” Sugoi, Ssyelle, and Ragno ask at the same time.

“Yeaaah!” Key continues, his voice straining as he flounders for an explanation that’s less likely to get them in trouble. “Rags and I were just having a friendly scrimmage.” He elbows Ragno in the side. “Y- you know, one on one... um, no ball… old school style…?”

Sugoi blinks at them. 

Ragno lets out a heavy exhale. “... Key’s dragon needed to let off some steam,” he grits out. “To uh, prevent something like the Bard’s game from happening again.”

Sugoi raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Key sobers at the reminder, rubbing his arm. “I uh… guess the dragon being cooped up for that long isn’t good for me. Er- it.”

Ssyelle’s expression softens. She glances between Key and Ragno, pursing her lips, before she looks up at Sugoi questioningly.

Sugoi’s face might as well be a mask. “And how do you feel now?” she asks.

Key tilts his head to the side. “I feel… good,” he says after a moment, his voice earnest. “Tired, and sore, but good.” He turns to smile at Ragno; it’s a little shy and hesitant, but his eyes are sparkling. “Like, the way you feel after you totally crush an epic workout!”

“Hm.” Sugoi’s gaze flicks over to Ragno. “And you?”

Ragno startles. “Huh?”

“How do you feel?” Sugoi presses, studying him intently.

“Uh.” Ragno’s face burns at the sudden scrutiny. How does he feel? He reaches inward; his dragon has burrowed itself deep within his chest, curling into a warm, lazy slumber. It’s nice. He glances away. “... Good, too. I guess.”

The silence stretches on for a long moment.

“Very well,” Sugoi says finally. “I will allow these… workouts… to continue so long as you remain within the boundaries of the pitch. And under no circumstances is anyone else allowed to be present.” She delivers the last part with a pointed look at Ssyelle.

“Wha- hey, no fair!” Ssyelle objects. “Why not?”

“If the barrier shatters,” Sugoi answers patiently, “anyone within immediate proximity will be at great risk of terrible harm.”

Ssyelle casts a suspicious look over at Ragno. “But what if Key gets hurt?” she asks, her sharp blue eyes narrowed accusingly. Ragno’s almost impressed by her boldness.

Sugoi inclines her head. “Key is impervious to all dragon tama fire, not just his own.”

Ssyelle doesn’t seem convinced, but Key slings an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, we’ve turned a corner.” He flashes a grin at Ragno. “Right, Rags?”

Ragno doesn’t let himself smile. He does not. “... Somethin’ like that.”

“Alright,” Ssyelle sighs, exasperated, but there’s the faintest hum of amusement in her voice, too. She turns to leave. “You know, the last time you said that, you got thrown off the Eyrie…”

“So we’ll stay at the Citadel,” Key answers primly. He gives Ragno a final two-fingered salute before departing, falling into step beside Ssyelle. “What could go wrong?”

“Do you have to ask that?”

“One of these days, I’m gonna be right!”

“Keep this up, and we won’t have a field anymore.”

“Ooh, right, I can totally fix that! Don’t worry!”

Their voices fade as they devolve into bickering. Ragno can sense the moment Key’s dragon leaves the borders of his awareness; the sudden absence feels… colder, almost. He glances up at Sugoi. She’s gazing out over the field with an unreadable expression.

Ragno clears his throat. “I’m, uh… sorry for the mess, Goyen Sugoi,” he ventures.

“The field can be fixed,” Sugoi says dismissively. She finally turns to meet his eyes again, and a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “What you’ve accomplished here today is far more important.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Keep it up.”

Ragno’s throat tightens. “Yes, Goyen Sugoi.”

He stands there for a while after Sugoi leaves, listening to the last dredges of magical fire burn out, desperately trying to pick through the confusing emotions that are coursing through him. Part of him welcomes her praise- because of course he wants it. But like this? It’s starting to feel like his only value to Sugoi now is in what he can do to help Key. Like he’s training his own replacement, and then she’ll have no further use of him. That alone is a very good reason for not wanting to continue.

But then there’s the other side of it. The side of him that can’t deny, as much as he wants to, how good it felt to be able to let his dragon run loose- without having to worry about hurting anyone. Now that his dragon’s had a taste, Ragno isn’t so sure it’d be satisfied going back to the way things were before. He doesn’t think he would be, either.

Because as loath as he is to admit it, this… connection he’s forming with Key, strange and contradictory as it may be, is something he’s never felt with anyone else before. Because he’s never met anyone else with a dragon tama before. And that alone is a very good reason to keep exploring it. 

To keep seeking that understanding.

And as Ragno finally leaves the scorched pitch, he comforts himself with the reminder that these extra training sessions will benefit him just as well, so he’ll know exactly what to do when he comes face to face with Key for the real deal. He’s willing to overlook his pride enough to help a rival, but not at the cost of forsaking his own team.

(He knows Key feels the same.)