marvojpr

[marvojpr]

i’m basically thinking of making a blue lock reaction fic, like to isagi or to isagi as other characters, would you like that? or should i just focus on agwp?

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

Chapter 11 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 11:

“You’re here.” 

A firm, feminine voice cut in. 

Isagi looked up from the ground, his head hung low from how heavy his mind felt, so filled with thoughts, yet so drained of decisions—so empty of his own emotions. Once his eyes met Anri’s, she was sure, those blue eyes that once shone with determination now searched for purpose in Anri’s red ones. 

She felt like she was supposed to say something, anything really, but she wasn’t sure what or how to start. Should she stick to being professional or ask him like a friend? Ego wouldn’t be happy if he saw Isagi like this. 

He barely lifted his head to greet her back, choosing to stay as quiet as a mouse so he simply nodded. Pretty much the opposite of how you’d expect someone to react when they get into the best football club in the world. 

She lifted her hand to gesture inside the building, her eyes piercing through him to try to decipher why he was how he was. The missing necklace seemed to be an indication of what could’ve happened, that damned PxG player, she curled her hands into fists, frustration and anger surging through her. 

She’ll kill him if he messed with Isagi’s progress. 

Anti followed behind Isagi, just to ensure he doesn’t give up midway and leaves, she might not know him like Ego, but she’s almost certain he’ll regret it in the long run. 

The inside was by all means elegant, and screamed luxurious. No signs of any soccer balls around, just the white jerseys with gold accents hanging by the wall. It was befitting of their name. But it seems as though Isagi didn’t share her enthusiasm about the club by his even more solemn look, he really didn’t want to be here, huh.

The reception was empty, the only indicator of human life was the sounds of balls hitting walls. Anri patted Isagi’s back, walking ahead of him to try to find someone. And she did, almost immediately. 

“Luna,” she greeted respectfully, all professionalism surfacing back, and to keep that presence she’ll have to avoid looking at Isagi’s face. She doesn’t know what she would do if she did. Want to kill Navitsu, or ask him to stop looking like a kicked puppy. “What a pleasant surprise, we were just heading to coach Javier’s office, but it seems like no one’s here.” 

Luna smiled wholeheartedly at the two, “well if it isn’t Isagi Yoichi,” he turned to Anri again, “hello again Anri!” His demeanor was very delightful, but something wasn’t right, it always was like this, since the first time she’s met this man. He just looked so… fake. “Yeah, coach isn’t here today, he’ll be back in a few hours, though,” he chirped, gesturing with his hands a lot. He answered, but his eyes lingered on Isagi longer than necessary, making Anri instinctively move to cover him. “Isagi. Good to see again.”

Isagi lifted his head just enough to make sure him rolling his eyes was visible enough for Luna but still remained silent, which Anri secretly appreciated. 

“In any case,” Luna finally tore his eyes off Isagi to look at the Blue Lock manager, “allow me to introduce you to the members in Re Al.”

Anri turned to try to catch a glimpse of Isagi, and saw his face had brightened a bit, enough to show her he’s actually intrigued, which made her bite her inner cheek to stop herself from smiling. Such a gentle boy. 

“I’d love to,” she answered in Isagi's stead. 

The walk was much better, mostly because Luna decided to ignore Isagi's existence as per usual and talk more about his own team. 

“Mostly everyone is here. Others remained in Spain, of course, due to circumstances.”

“I see,” Anri nodded along with him, she was equally interested in Re Al as Isagi. It was her favorite team as a kid. But growing up, she thinks it’d be more impressive for Japan to win instead. 

Luna giggled at the two, “we’re here,” he signaled at the big door proudly, the words ‘indoor stadium’ engraved on the upper part of the door. The ash blond man moved to open the doors, his head held high and boastful. And then, light flashed before Isagi's eyes. His pupils dilating as it followed the ball from left to right. 

The air was heavy from sweat and running. Clearly they’ve been at it for hours, if the awful smell was any indication. Isagi scrunched his face in disgust, remembering all the nights he spent in a cramped room with his fellow teammates in team Z. At least during the NEL they had a bit more personal space, and his new teammates cared more about hygiene unlike, ahem, some people (Nagi and Igaguri). 

Luna yelled out for his team to halt, waving at them with a smile plastered on his face. They immediately stopped in their tracks, eyeing the newcomers. 

“You’ve seen Isagi Yoichi,” Luna brought Isagi closer with one arm on the other’s back, making Isagi stumble a bit. “He’s the kid that made Kaiser lose his shit during the NEL.” 

One of the players came closer, “and outplayed Sae’s brother, right?” 

“Also managed to keep up with Snuffy,” one placed a hand on their hips, the other hand to stroke his chin while eyeing Isagi, a strange glint in his eyes. 

“Pretty impressive stuff, so yeah, he will be joining Re Al.” Luna said nonchalantly, though his smile remained untouched, perfected even. The crowd around them erupted in different directions, some cheekily smiling, another scoffing at Isagi’s form. 

One, in particular, stepped much closer than the others, extending his hand for Isagi. He looked slightly older than him, maybe in his mid twenties, he was almost the same height as Isagi, if not taller, and his smile didn’t look condescending like Luna’s, it reached his eyes instead. He seemed to genuinely want to have Isagi as his teammate, the thought somehow made Isagi look a bit more solemn. 

Finally, the man spoke up, “I was one of the people here who voted for you to join us, I’m so excited to play with you, Isagi Yoichi.” Isagi nodded and shook his hand, already liking this guy, he was like… Reo if Reo liked him. Suddenly, the man pulled his hand away, instead he placed it on his own hips. “Or should it be Yoichi Isagi? I’m not really accustomed to Japanese culture, so I was really glad when coach gave up those ear—“

“Shut up, Vašek,” another guy chimed in, glaring at said ‘Vašek’.

Vašek looked embarrassed but brushed it off quickly, not trying to look weak in front of the newcomers. He let out a small awkward laugh, however, two arms grabbed him by the face, making him fall to the ground with a yell. They chuckled like hyenas, as they inspected Isagi, who’s eyes have widened in shock, unsure of where to focus on, or who. His blue eyes looked down at Vašek, he wanted to help him get up but the two guys that pushed him off started talking.

One of them put a finger on his chin, “whatchu think, Lucio!”

The other had his hands on his hips, a smirk covering his face, “expandable, Luis. Absolutely useless!” He shook his head in a disappointed manner, but his face still held the same snarky look. He raised a hand to high five his brother who nodded abruptly. 

Isagi's eyebrow raised, his face bemused. 

Seriously? These guys were on the greatest team in football history?

“Don’t freak him out already,” someone got in between the twins, “you know what Sae said, remember?” He glared at the two, his face contorted in a permanently aggravated look. 

“Oh Sae,” one of the twins, Luis, looked at the ceiling, supposedly to think, “no, I don’t think I’ve met him.” He deadpanned.

Lucio nudged him in his ribs, a teasing grin stretched his lips, “he’s the one with the freaky eyes!” He exclaimed. 

His twin remained neutral, not joining the other's antics anymore, “nope, still seems irrelevant to me.” 

“That’s ‘cuz he is!” Lucio’s smirk turned devious. 

The one who previously interrupted them rolled his eyes in annoyance, now glaring at Isagi who also hardened his eyes to challenge him. He hated the twins remark about Sae, a singe of protectiveness made its way through his chest, but he didn’t want to pick a fight with the team already.

“Oh my god! Can’t these two just shut the hell up?!” The angry mans exasperated, “you two are almost as irrelevant as Sae, and I had to train with you all morning. I physically—”

Luna crossed his arms and looked at him, “Egino,” he called out, “shut up.”

Egino settled down immediately, a small blush appeared on his cheeks, either embarrassed or sappy, Isagi wasn’t sure which one. “Shutting up.”

Luna rolled his eyes, tired of their shenanigans for the day. He mastered his polite smile and turned to Anri and Isagi, who both bore the same peeved expression. It was funny how similar they looked but Luna didn’t want to get jumped if he said that outloud. 

“Anywho…” he began, “sorry you had to see the worst side of Re Al we have in stock.” He pointed at the three who resumed fighting within each other, mainly the twins against Egino, kicking balls at him and him pulling them in a headlock. Even Vašek joined them, trying to keep the peace while also subtly messing with Egino. “Trust me, we’re not all like this.”

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Anri thought, regretting seeing her heroic team in person. You know what they say, don’t meet your heroes if you want to continue to idolize them. Then again, these were the new recruits, and not the geniuses she grew up watching. ‘Whatever, I just hope Isagi will be fine here.’

Luna turned to Isagi, “well you seem,” he paused, looking deeply into Isagi's earnest eyes, “different.”

Luis came back, resting an arm on Luna’s shoulder who looked at him, not amused in the slightest. “Maybe he just realized this team is merely carried by its old legacy and not the new testimony.”

Luna looked at him, his eyebrow raised, “what the hell does that even mean?”

Luis smiled brightly, raising his arms in the air, “what does anything mean! Maybe you’re just dreaming, or maybe… I see Sae walking in!” He exclaimed. 

“Ok, Luis, you're done. Go back home.”

The man continued his rant, using big words to appear smarter, but alas, failing miserably.

Isagi looked at the exchange. 

He felt so… out of place, maybe Navitsu was right… he doesn’t belong there.

He should probably just go and tell Anri the truth on why he agreed to come: 

Isagi was going to quit soccer.

“Isagi,” a voice chimed in, making Isagi look back startled, he didn’t expect the voice to be right behind him. How did he not notice an entire man walking up from behind? But as he saw who it was, his expression changed drastically.

‘Sae!’ Isagi thought, happy to see Sae after so long, and even happier to leave these weirdos. He’s only just met them, but he’s almost sure; they won’t get along. Not with Egino, not the twins, and certainly not Luna.

Isagi let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding, as if being around Sae just made his worries drift away. 

Anri noticed. Of course she did, she’s been eyeing Isagi since she’s seen him, he was gloomy the entire time, he didn’t need to say anything, she knew what he was thinking, but she’s avoiding talking to Isagi alone, she can’t convince him to stay, so he’ll slip right under her watch. And yeah, Ego might cause a tiny, little, small problem.

Her eyes trailed to Sae slowly, trying to see the other’s reaction. 

He looked as unfeeling as always, just empty teal eyes and a neutral expression. 

Her eyes hardened.

No.

He looks… different too…

“Coach told me you were coming today,” Sae started, his eyes never leaving Isagi's, “I wanted to see for myself if you were joining Re Al.” 

Isagi's eyes widened for a split second before looking down, embarrassed. Oh how disappointed Sae would be in him. 

“Well, I,” he tried to speak, but the lump in his throat prevented him, he could feel Sae’s gaze on him which made it all the more difficult. Why does he look at him with so much… intensity? Isagi tried to look at him again, only to look back at Sae’s shoes. “I was thinking…”

Sae got closer, invading whatever personal bubble was left with Isagi, he grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it gently, catching everyone who was watching to stop and ogle at them. “Isagi, do you trust me?” He asked innocently, and Anri couldn’t help but feel alarmed at that.

Isagi looked astonished, he of all people knew how Sae hated physical contact, and to do it in front of everyone? 

He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out, he just looked at Sae, his face flushed and eyes brighter than usual. 

“Yes,” he finally answered. 

Sae’s face relaxed, “then trust me when I say this, you belong in Re Al,”

The two continued to stare at each other, Sae growing bolder and Isagi mind started racing.

Anri eyed the two, but didn’t voice her concerns, Ego will definitely hear from her.

“So,” Luis grabbed Lucio, “what if… Sae is—”

“Dying!” They both said at the same time.

“Exactly, brother.” Lucio nodded his head, “Sae is trying to get any physical touch he could before he falls to his demise!” 

“Precisely, brother!”

Sae didn’t pay them any mind, but honestly? Maybe they’re right.

He was, after all, acting very odd. I mean they’re his teammates they should know him better, right? And apparently they agree with Isagi's inner conclusion. It just wasn’t like Sae. He wasn’t one to hold hands, to stare, almost longingly, at another. It just wasn’t Sae.

And despite these gestures being perceived at almost… loving, Isagi was sensing something else from Sae. Something akin to anger perhaps. Isagi has always been good at these sorts of things—analyzing and sensing emotions, he’s always been sensitive to, well, everything. So when Sae looks well on the outside, but is harboring resentment, that’s when Isagi chooses to interfere. 

But, for now, he should probably think of Re Al and his future.

After his talk with Navitsu two days ago, Isagi spent the entirety of the next day staring blankly at his ceiling, hell, even his mom came to apologize, but had to leave without so much as a response. It’s not like he blamed her, he knew it wasn’t her fault, he just… couldn’t really bother telling her that.

She even offered to walk him to Anri, but alas, they still didn’t talk, or he didn’t. He was too busy thinking about football, he thought he quit. Thought it’d be better for everyone. Nothing used to bring him more joy than kicking a ball, than scoring alone.

But now? Nothing brought him more dread than football.

Just thinking of the way Navitsu looked at him made him blood cold, it prevented him from ever stepping foot in Madrid. 

But maybe, just maybe, Sae’s right. He should trust him, after all, Sae left his own home when he was what? Twelve? Thirteen? Nowhere near seventeen going eighteen. And unlike how everyone else in Blue Lock was with him (ahem… Niko, Kaiser, Kunigami, Yuki—the list goes on and on) Sae genuinely wanted to see him succeed, he didn’t know why exactly, but he’ll take whatever support he can get.

So really, how bad can it possibly be to just… find a shoulder to lean on? 

Sae, since Isagi's first fight with Navitsu, was strangely the only normal one around him. 

Bachira was acting like he was walking on eggshells around him, slowly pulling Chigiri, Reo, and, crazy enough, Barou in the mix. Rin and Kaiser have gotten more aggressive, Kaiser less so now I guess?

And Navitsu…

Isagi was sure he did something to him, be it magic or maybe he’d bewitched him somehow, all he knew was that it’s never been like that with anyone else, even with Navitsu throughout the years they’ve known each other. Sure they fought every once in a while, but now? Now it almost looks… deliberate? Like he knew his effect on Isagi.

No! Come on, you know Navitsu better than this.

In his train of thoughts, he didn’t notice that neither of them had pulled away, their hands still interlocked. 

“Well, isn’t this a gorgeous sight! A most shocking duo, that’s for sure,” Luna came in between them, but he didn’t manage to pull them away from each other just yet, “don’t get me wrong, you two are cute together as far as I’m concerned. Birds of a feather and all that.”

Sae’s eyes remained neutral, but Isagi let out a tired sigh. 

Luna kept his focus on Sae though, eyes darkening slightly, “just make sure he, ya know, ends up like you.” His words seemed innocent enough, but Isagi felt Sae squeeze his hand just a bit, before it returned to its gentle nature. 

Finally, Sae glared at the blonde from under his bangs that lay unusually low, “you don’t realize it, Luna,” he began, his voice low and seemingly pleasant enough, “he’s already like me.”

“Is he now?” Luna looked between the two, as if analyzing something unseen, Isagi looked dumbfounded, confused at what the hell they were talking about. “Was it the eyes that gave that away? ‘Cuz I see it. Just don’t break him like the last one, ‘Toshi, this one’s promising.” 

Sae didn’t answer, his gaze darkening by the second. 

Well, Isagi might not know what they were talking about. But he knows one thing; these two cannot stand each other, perhaps worse than Shidou and Rin. At least the two of them are more like rivals, these two on the other hand…

He needs to see them practically kill each other. 

How intertwining would that be—

What’s wrong with him…

“Geez,” a voice cut through the tension, “he talks about Yoichi like he’s some sort of promised bride.” Luis crossed his head and shook his head in disappointment.

His twin came to assist in mocking the rest, “right? He’s such a creep. He should hang out with us more often, we’re like, gentlemen.”

“Gentlemen my ass,” Egino deadpanned. 

“Oh!” Luis exclaimed with dramatics, “seize your lowly insults! Us profound men shall stay as, erm… gentle-men-ly, as we do best.”

“Hell yeah, we’re so gentlemenly we'll show our bride, Yoichi, what dreams are made of.”

“Last time you told me that you shoved raw cow meat down my throat.”

“Indubitably, brother.”

In a way, Isagi found himself enjoying their company. In a weird… uncomfortable way, it was just a different change that he didn’t expect. Never in his life, would he imagine himself finding closure in change of all things.

“Coach’s here,” Vašek called in through the door while carrying a few moving boxes. “And he brought another guest with him—”

Egino groaned when he saw who he was talking about, the infamous blond and blue hair combo was impossible not to notice. “Ughh, it’s that emperor bullshit again.” He rolled his eyes then immediately went back to kicking the ball, finding that this scene was no longer entertaining to him anymore.

Luis nodded, “ughh I know right! Can’t stand him. Who are we talking about?” He asked his twin, we in return only looked at him blankly. 

“I have no idea but he sounds important so it definitely can’t be you.”

Isagi turned towards the door to see the coach, and saw—“Kaiser…!” His breath hitched. He wasn’t sure why, but memories of two days ago echoed in his brain, making his face beat red. Kaiser leaning close, whispering weird shit, and just seeing him outside of the field was such an… experience…

He pushed whatever thoughts he had to the back of his head for two days. 

But he knew deep down, something’s changed. 

In the midst of his thoughts he didn’t notice he let go of Sae’s hands, like an unconscious reflex, but they were still supported by the redhead’s own hands, like he didn’t want to let go yet. As he kept staring at Kaiser, wide eyed and face reddened, he didn’t notice the pair of eyes that was darkly watching him. 

Isagi didn’t notice how much time had passed before Anri touched his shoulder. 

She gently pressed her hand on his shoulder, her voice warm and soothing, “Isagi,” she made sure to look him in the eyes, “the coach just waved for us to join him. Do you want to stay here?” Her eyes flickered over to Sae whose face remained impassive as it usually was. 

Isagi thought about it for a second, his eyes narrowing in concentration. 

“Actually,” he tilted his head to the right in embarrassment, his eyes never meeting Anri’s. “I’ll stay here.”

It caught Anri off guard. 

Seriously?

And for some reason, she had this… feeling about Sae.

Not to mention—Isagi needed to be there, to finalize his decision of joining Re Al. What if he suddenly decides to dip? Then again, she doubted Isagi would be listening anyways. He was barely listening to Luna when he spoke of Re Al and its members. Everything about this situation made her internal alarms scream. 

What could possibly go wrong?

“Alright,” she turned back to head after where the coach and Kaiser stood, both blankly waiting for them, “just, be careful.”

This is chapter 11

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, <- 11 -> 12

[marvojpr]

writing chapter 11 had me thinking about how uncreative i am at creating oc’s. don’t expect anything good coming from the re al madrid team

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 10 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 10:

The streets were full of people, making it harder for Isagi to find his way, yet he managed to keep a passive mind, ensuring he doesn’t beat up a man for accidentally bumping into him just because he wants to kill a certain blond.

More than anything, he was mad at himself for coming here in the first place. 

He can’t remember anything from last night which doesn’t help since he already has a bad time trusting Kaiser. 

Was he going to apologize? Unlikely. 

Also he wouldn’t accept it if it helped save his mother from certain death.

Without realizing, he started biting his fingernails, an annoying habit he has when he’s stressed or overwhelmed by something, but it only happened when he got worked up over school. He can’t help but feel nervous about confronting Kaiser. He’s not sure what that’s about, but it can’t serve him any good now, not when he confidently sent the latter death threats of what he’ll do when he sees him.

Kaiser simply sent him an annoying cat emoticon. 

He almost broke his phone right there and then.

Isagi had his phone in his hand opened to follow the location Kaiser sent him, when suddenly, a pair of hands covered his eyes from behind. He let out a slow sigh before putting his phone down, bored of the antics the other might be pulling.

“Surprise!” The voice exclaimed excitedly. 

Isagi groaned, despising the fact he didn’t leave the translating earbuds at home to rot. 

Gently, the hands started moving downwards till it landed on his shoulders. For a moment Isagi just looked straight ahead, before squealing at the sudden shaking that was happening. Apparently, Kaiser thought it’d be fun if he made Isagi rock back and forth instead of showing him his face.

Exhausted, he slapped away the hands and turned to face him, annoyance evident on his face. “Okay!” He yelled out, making some people turn to look at him weirdly, “what is up with you?!” 

Kaiser, who Isagi didn’t notice has been laughing the entire time, simply started patting him on his head, “what is up with me? What is wrong with you?” 

Isagi raised an eyebrow, confused by what he meant. He’s acting fairly normal for someone confronting a guy who assaulted him while he was passed out. In fact, he was too calm and collected. But that was only because Navitsu gave him one of his famous smiles before he left, which reminded him of the reason they managed to kiss in the first place, the mark!

Finally, Kaiser stopped laughing, but the smile remained on his face. Isagi noticed one crucial thing…

There’s no way…

Was Kaiser… happily smiling with him?

No condensation? No sarcasm?

Was he legit purely happy to be around him?

Something happened while he was passed out, and he needs to know what it is.

Composed, Kaiser started heading inside the obviously expensive cafe, contrasting the one he used to go to with Navitsu, like it was done on purpose. Kaiser then pulled the ultimate boner killer for Isagi, the ladies first move. 

Isagi deadpanned, looking at Kaiser like he grew two heads, but the other remained unbothered. Finally, he sighed and followed before him, entering the fancy cafe that is not meant for people like him. 

Choosing a place near the window, he plopped down. Maybe it was Kaiser’s way of making up to him?

“You chose that cafe we went to last time, right?” Kaiser questioned, making small talk.

Isagi didn’t answer him, his arms crossed. 

“It was rather cheap, and very small. I avoid—”

“Kaiser,” Isagi warned, his voice devoid of any emotion, “get to the point.” 

Kaiser’s eyes widened slightly, but quickly regained composure, his smile barely faltering. “And what is the point, Yoichi?” He tried to tease, but it came off more confused than amused.

Isagi fists clenched by his sides, causing his nails to dig into his palm, “you know—” he hissed loudly, and upon seeing heads turn at him, he quickly lowered his voice. “You know what I’m talking about. The damn bite.” 

At that, Kaiser leaned back, mimicking Isagi’s crossed arms. He tilted his head to the side, hair falling at the pace. The amusement he had a moment ago was now gone, and instead, a flicker of something unknown took place. His mouth opened slightly agape, as if he didn’t hear correctly—or rather, he didn’t understand.

“Excuse me?”

The innocence in his question made Isagi even more mad. How could he not know? No, he was definitely pretending. He was a high class actor, feigning innocence until he strikes and devours his prey. Isagi slammed his fist, “don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped, his voice low, “you think I’ll wake up and not notice this on my body?!” He moved the part of his shirt that was covering his shoulder, revealing a bite mark.

Kaiser didn’t so much as flinch, but something changed, and Isagi didn’t understand what it was. 

It was as if the entire restaurant had gotten cold, and looking right into Kaiser’s eyes didn’t help. They looked so… empty, compared to mere moments ago when they were outside the cafe. He looked very happy, like he genuinely enjoyed Isagi’s company, but now it was all gone. 

Still, Kaiser didn’t even say anything for a while, eyeing the mark, or at least where the mark was since Isagi immediately covered it after receiving unwanted attention from the ones sitting close to him. 

“I didn’t do that.” He finally confirmed, “I would’ve left something prettier.”

Isagi’s body went completely still.

“And I would’ve made sure you remembered it.”

Liar.

He was lying.

Who else—

Who else would dare do this?

But…

Come to think of it…

When Kaiser touched his shoulders earlier outside, Isagi didn’t flinch.

He didn’t feel… uncomfortable, in fact, he felt normal, just like when Bachira would, or Hiori.

If his flashback was correct, and the person who did this to him really hurt him in order to make the mark visible after an entire day of scrubbing, then he would’ve felt it… right?

If Kaiser did something, he would’ve noticed by now. Especially since Kaiser has been extra touchy today. 

“So…” Isagi began, his voice gone more horse. “I…. Who—”

“Last I remember,” Kaiser began, a lot softer than expected, “we were sitting by the main door, before your friends called you and you went in.”

“What about you?”

“I left.”

Isagi blinked, his eyes quickly darting around the room. He felt nauseous, like the room was spinning over and over again.

It’s him again.

The guy following him yesterday.

He can feel his eyes on him. 

Maybe…?

Maybe he’s just imagining it. 

After all, Kaiser didn’t seem to notice anything.

“Look,” Kaiser finally tore his eyes off of his shoulder, and looked beyond the window, “while I wish to see you destroyed, I’d rather do it myself. And I’m pretty sure I made that pretty clear to you, and to everyone we surround.”

Isagi didn’t respond, waiting for him to continue and to see where he was going with this. 

“And whoever did this, they did it after they knew damn well I wasn’t around,” Kaiser didn’t move his head that was pointed towards the window, but his eyes lingered on Isagi. 

In return, Isagi’s eyes narrowed at him, whether from anger or confusion, or even both, he wasn’t sure, “why do you care? Are you trying to mess with me? How do I know you aren’t just playing me?” He could feel his eyes tear up just a bit, making him stop throwing questions and focus on stopping himself from crying in front of Kaiser of all people.

“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” Kaiser seriously answered, he was sure Isagi was aware that he wasn’t the one who did this to him and was simply confused. He couldn’t blame him. Still, he has to make sure Isagi knows he’d never have to force himself onto anyone to gain anything.

Including Isagi.

Especially Isagi.

Isagi looked at him in disbelief, “I’m not yours.” He answered automatically.

Kaiser tilted his head to the side, a single blond strand falling, making his eyes seem colder than usual. “No. Not yet.”

Isagi blinked.

Shit.

Kaiser was dead serious.

This wasn’t just him teasing him.

He said it like it was common sense. Like it was a fact.

‘Yet?’ Isagi wanted to ask, but his mind kept drifting back to the person making him lose his mind. The silence stretched between them like a drawn wire, taut and waiting to snap—until Isagi’s phone vibrated sharply against the table.

The sudden noise shattered his trance, and Kaiser’s gaze shifted to the device with narrowed eyes. It wasn’t the sound that caught him off guard—it was the way Isagi reached for it. His fingers trembled. Subtle, but unmistakable.

He was shaking.

Isagi ignored it, forcing his hand steady long enough to unlock the screen.

From: Anri Teieri

BLUE LOCK PROJECT, PHASE THREE

Assemble at: XXX

As always, further details won’t be disclosed, so we won’t be answering any questions.

Isagi stared at the message, blinking once.

‘Wow,’ he thought numbly. ‘Very helpful.’

“Who was that?” Kaiser asked, his voice quieter now, careful. Isagi’s entire mood had shifted—from furious and near tears to eerily composed, as if he'd buried whatever pain had just surfaced seconds ago.

“Blue Lock,” Isagi replied, eyes still fixed on the message. “They’re initiating Phase Three. We’re supposed to show up in two days.”

He looked around the restaurant.

The feeling was gone. That icy pressure behind his neck—the sensation of being watched—had vanished.

He exhaled, slowly. Almost relieved.

Kaiser hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, right. I forgot.” A beat passed. Then, with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he added, “So we’re basically over, huh?”

Isagi frowned at the phrasing. “You make it sound like we’re breaking up.”

Kaiser gave a short, almost amused laugh. “Aren’t we?” he said lightly, though something in his tone sharpened at the edges. “Once Phase Three begins, we’ll be split again. Probably won’t see each other for a long time. If ever.”

There was something oddly sincere in the way he said it. Not dramatic—just final. Like he knew more than he let on.

Isagi looked at him, then shook his head with quiet resolve. “No.” His voice steadied. “I’ll see you again. And next time… I’ll beat you again.”

That brought a genuine reaction from Kaiser—a flicker of that old, smug grin curling at his mouth. “We’ll see about that, babe.”

He rose from his seat, but before he turned away, he leaned down just enough for Isagi to hear the next words privately:

“Don’t let anyone mark you again unless it’s me.”

The chill returned to Isagi’s spine, crawling up the back of his neck. By the time he looked up, Kaiser had already turned toward the door.

— — — — —

“You two care to explain why I just woke up because of you?” Barou glared.

The room went silent for a while, no one brave enough to break it.  And Barou’s eyes kept darting between the two, his glares burning holes through them. His foot remained planted on Bachira’s stomach, and Bachira looked annoyed enough to bite his ankles. His other hand was ready to deliver another punch at the German, who was red in the face and was heavily breathing. 

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Barou questioned, his voice filled with authority.

Karasu whistled low, “welcome to Sunday mornings with the Blue Lock community, King.”

“Ness’s just being a dick,” Otoya pointed out, resting his arm on Karasu’s shoulder, the remark made Ness glare at him furiously. These people were ganging up on him, basically an entire team against him! 

“He started it,” Ness eyes Bachira, his voice cracking. “That freak was the one who grabbed me.”

Barou cracked his neck. “Try again, pet. Maybe with fewer insults this time.” He removed his feet from Bachira, choosing to direct his anger at Ness alone, “I don’t care who started it, but you will speak appropriately.”

Ness swallowed his anger, his jaw tightening. He thought it’d be smarter to play it safe with this guy, especially when he was clearly outnumbered. Not like they’d beat him either way, he can just sue the hell out of them.

Bachira slowly sat up, his eyes dark while it was fixated on the floor. Something about them seemed empty, unlike earlier when they were full of anger, like something inside him turned off once the realization hit him, and now all that’s left was static. Chigiri noted checking up on Bachira after this was over.

He must’ve realized something about Isagi.

Otherwise he wouldn’t have attacked Ness out of the blue. 

Choosing to keep a close eye on Bachira, Chigiri spoke up, more composed than the others. “Is everyone good now? Got the testosterone out of your system?” His question mostly aimed at Ness and Barou, sympathizing with Bachira now more than ever.

Hiori shook his head in disapproval, his eyes never once left Ness, making sure the latter knew he wasn’t done. “No. He needs to explain what Kaiser wants from Isagi.”

Barou raised an eyebrow at the comment, just what did he miss? 

But Ness stood his ground, deciding to keep defending Kaiser until his last breath. A part of him wanted to be selfish… to want the others to take Isagi away from Kaiser, and for Kaiser to stay by his side. But he couldn’t.

He’s never seen Kaiser be genuinely happy, not unless he’s with Isagi Yoichi.

And that should bother him. But it doesn’t.

He’s happy if Kaiser’s happy. And he’ll keep supporting him even if it means accepting his love for the Japanese striker.

What he didn’t realize though, was how worried he was for Isagi.

“Kaiser is…” He started, his voice low and full of concern, “he doesn’t know how to… want someone the right way. Of course he’s obsessed, he doesn’t know how not to be.” Ness took a deep breath, ensuring he didn't look at the others in the process. “I’m not saying it’s healthy, but Kaiser genuinely doesn’t know how to care without ruining it. He wants things, and he chokes them when he gets too close.”

Hiori looked like he was analyzing the information, slowly digesting it all in. The way Ness spoke was too real to be all lies. Still, he should take caution before believing everything said.

“But this… whatever’s happening with Isagi, it’s not a game anymore. It scares him.”

Barou blinked. “You’re saying he’s scared?” He deadpanned.

“Yes,” Ness said, almost whispering it. “Because this isn’t some match he can win. It’s Isagi. And if he falls, I’m afraid it will be the only time he doesn’t land on his feet.”

Reo set his coffee down. “So why not just tell Isagi?”

“Because he’ll leave,” Ness answered quickly. “He’ll run the second he finds out what Kaiser feels, because he’s not ready. None of you think he is.”

A heavy beat passed. Hiori folded his arms, “maybe,” he said. “But lying to him isn’t the answer.”

“You’re right,” Ness admitted, his voice shaking for the first time. “But I already made that mistake. I thought if I waited long enough… if I protected Kaiser from himself, it’d get easier. But it didn’t. It got worse.”

Chigiri looked away, jaw tight. Bachira’s fists had unclenched, but only just. Reo let out a breath through his nose.

Barou rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This is giving me a headache.”

“No shit,” Karasu muttered.

While they kept on asking questions and analyzing what’s happening, Bachira walked out of the door, his head hung low. The commotion was loud enough to cover the sound of his footsteps, making his lack of presence almost unnoticeable. Almost.

Chigiri’s been keeping track of him the entire time.

The usually bubbly striker was now heading out the door, leaving behind whatever items he had on him, his bag, his water bottle, even his hoodie, all of it forgotten, discarded like they meant nothing. Only his phone remained tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants, vibrating quietly against his leg as he walked away.

“Bachira!” Chigiri called, sharp and alarmed, his voice cutting through the hum of murmurs from behind the walls. But to his surprise, there was no reply. No cheerful chirp. No turn of the head. 

Just silence.

His heart skipped. Without hesitation, Chigiri launched forward, covering the ten steps in an instant, not because it was far, but because every second of distance felt unbearable. He reached out, his fingers brushing Bachira’s arm. But the other swatted him away, not harshly, but not gently either.

That’s when he saw his face.

Bachira’s eyes, always alive with chaotic sparks, now looked dim. Hollowed out. His lips pressed tightly into a line, jaw clenched like he was trying to bite down on something that wanted to escape.

He looked… absolutely shattered.

And Chigiri felt his own chest constrict at the sight.

“Bachira…” he said carefully, stepping in closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” Bachira started, voice raw, the lump in his throat so obvious it practically echoed in the quiet hall. “I thought I’d always have him.”

The words stunned Chigiri into stillness.

“…You mean Isagi?” 

There was a beat. And then, a small nod from Bachira. Slow. Painfully slow. Like the motion itself was heavy to carry. “He’s always been there, y’know? No matter what. Even when I’m being annoying, or loud, or too much… he stays. I thought that meant something.” Bachira let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “I thought it meant I didn’t have to fight for it. For him.”

Chigiri’s eyes flickered.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Not with that strange, hollow ache rising in his throat. Because something about those words hit far too close to somewhere he didn’t want to examine. Bachira continued, his voice low. “I was angry at Ness. I told myself it was because he was being a dick. That he deserved it. But that wasn’t it. Not really.”

He turned his face toward Chigiri now, and his eyes weren’t hollow anymore. They were wide. Desperate. Full of something electric and suffocating, like fear wrapped in realization.

“I was scared. So scared. When I saw him talk about Kaiser like that—like he knew something about Isagi that I didn’t—I lost it.”

Chigiri clenched his fists slowly at his sides. The mention of Kaiser made his mind twinge, but not for the same reason as Bachira’s. Still, he didn’t interrupt.

“I think… I’m losing him,” Bachira whispered. “And I didn’t even realize I was trying to keep him until someone else was close enough to take him.” The silence that followed was thick, almost too dense to breathe through. Chigiri didn’t even blink.

Bachira wasn’t just spiraling because of jealousy or rivalry. He was unraveling over a bond he thought was unshakable. One he maybe, just maybe, loved more than he ever let himself believe.

“I don’t know what he means to me,” Bachira said quietly. “Friend? Teammate? Something more? I don’t know. I just know I can’t lose him. Not like this. Not to people who don’t see him.”

He did. Every inch of who Isagi was—Chigiri saw it. Saw the way his brain never stopped calculating, the little smiles he gave when he trusted someone, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about goals, purpose, victory. He saw the way Isagi burned with passion and pain and hope all at once.

And yes… maybe, somewhere deep down, Chigiri saw something more too.

Something he never dared name.

Because if he named it, if he admitted it, he wasn’t sure what it would break.

“You don’t have to name it yet,” Chigiri said finally, lifting his eyes again. “But whatever it is, hold onto it. Because if you’re this scared of losing him, it means it matters.”

Bachira blinked hard. Swallowed. And this time, when Chigiri placed a hand on his shoulder, he didn’t pull away.

The buzzing of Bachira’s phone vibrated against the silence again, pulling him out of the moment. He reached for it instinctively, fingers curling around the device.

Chigiri took the opportunity to step back. He didn’t say anything, didn’t reveal the storm beneath his calm. But as Bachira looked down at his screen, Chigiri’s gaze lingered. Because watching Bachira fall apart over Isagi… that did something to him.

And he wasn’t ready to ask why.

Not yet.

So, he tucked it away.

The confusion. The jealousy. The ache.

And in the quiet that followed, he made a silent promise:

He’d protect Bachira.

He’d protect Isagi.

Even if that meant hiding his own heart in the process.

— — — — —

“I’m home.”

Isagi took off his shoes as he entered his home. 

“What’s for dinner?” He yelled out, with a gentle voice, still, there was no one to answer him. Which was odd—there was always someone home. Be it his mom, dad, or Navitsu. The house was rarely left unattended, or at least that’s how he remembered it before he left for Blue Lock.

The lack of response made him skeptical, his head tilted as he tried to take a glimpse of the living room, the lights were on at least. But otherwise, there was no other indication of anyone home. 

Maybe they went on a date. 

Good for them.

Feeling free, Isagi stretched as he sat up, like a cat that just woke up from a long needed nap. Spontaneously, he automatically made a beeline to the kitchen, passing by the living room. In his state, he didn’t notice his mom and dad sitting on the couch, an envelope in their hands. 

“Yoichi.” 

A voice called, startling him which caused him to close the fridge in a hurry.

His head twisted fast to meet where the voice was coming from, and he could only see so much of his mother’s head.

“Mom-? Geez!” He screeched, finally relaxing and instead choosing to send some harsh glares toward them. “Next time just answer me when I call you.”

His mom, however, didn’t answer, her eyes seemingly glued on whatever’s written on that paper. His dad, on the other hand, was more relaxed, and instead more focused on comforting Iyo by gently pressing his hands on her shoulders.

“Mom?” Isagi got closer, feeling more worried by the second. Once he was at her side, he nudged her softly, looking at his dad for confirmation that it was okay to do so, which was met with a smile, just a little too tight at the corners, which only served to confuse him further.

His mom turned to face him, her face flushed from all the streaming tears. 

“MOM?!” Isagi yelled out, concern evident on his face, still, that only made his mom cry harder. “What happened?!” 

Iyo finally sniffled, using her sleeve to wipe the tears off her face but that didn’t quite work as the tears hadn’t stopped yet.

“T-this,” she stuttered out, “this came for you.” She handed him the envelope hesitantly. 

Isagi looked at her and back at it before finally taking it and reading its content.

Dear Isagi Yoichi,

Following your exceptional progress and continued excellence within our International Scouting and Development Initiative, we are pleased to extend to you a formal invitation to join Re Al Madrid C.F. as a full-time resident at our official player dormitory and training campus in Madrid, Spain.

This invitation marks the next stage of your development under our mentorship. As part of your extended integration with the Re Al Madrid first-team environment, you will be offered:

Private residence within the secured Re Al Madrid Academy Dormitory

Access to elite training facilities and daily sessions with club coaches

Nutritional and physical conditioning programs tailored to your position

Language and cultural support as you transition into life in Madrid

Team-building sessions and access to exclusive club events

Your relocation is not a requirement, but a strategic recommendation to ensure your continued growth both on and off the field. We believe that your presence at the facility will allow for focused training, greater synergy with club players, and a deeper connection to the Re Al Madrid philosophy.

Should you choose to accept, our logistics team will coordinate your transition, including travel, documentation, and all necessary accommodations.

We request that you provide your response no later than Monday, after which we will proceed accordingly.

We look forward to continuing this journey together and welcome you into the Re Al Madrid family—on and off the pitch.

Warm regards, Javier Cruz

Isagi couldn’t help but furrow his brow in confusion as he finished reading the letter again, scanning the words like he was missing something hidden, some secret code or subtext written between the lines. His fingers tightened slightly around the paper. The invitation was formal, clear, and surprisingly positive. So why had his mother started crying? “I don’t… I don’t get it?” he asked, quietly, like speaking too loud might shatter whatever fragile state the room was in.

The silence that followed was thick with tension. His mother’s face twisted even further, as if his confusion had personally wounded her. His father, seated nearby, let out a long-suffering sigh, the sound of a man who had spent the last ten minutes trying to talk a storm into calming down, only to watch it spiral into a hurricane.

“Yoichi! How could you say this?” Iyo cried, suddenly grabbing his hand with both of hers, squeezing like she was holding onto something precious about to slip away. “I’m your mother! How do you think I’ll feel when you leave me for so long?!”

Huh.

Wait, seriously?

He glanced at his father, expecting him to explain or intervene. But his dad looked just as lost, eyebrows slightly raised, lips parted in the beginnings of a question he clearly didn’t know how to ask. At least pretend to care, he thought dryly. At least one parent needed to be emotionally grounded here.

Finally, his dad rubbed the back of his neck and spoke with careful calm. “Dear… why are you suddenly so emotional? Yoichi already left us for that football program, remember? We’ve been through this once already. I thought we both understood this would happen eventually if we wanted him to succeed. Why is this different now?”

Isagi nodded silently beside him, grateful someone else was asking the question that had been gnawing at him.

Because truly, none of this made sense. His mom had always been supportive, proud even, whenever he left for training, games, or just to hang out with his friends. Sometimes, she seemed even too comfortable with having him out of the house. But now…?

Iyo’s teary eyes met his again. She cupped his cheeks gently, her palms warm, her fingers trembling. It was the kind of touch she used when he was little, before soccer took over everything, before he stopped crying about scraped knees or bad test scores.

He blinked, guilt crawling in before he could stop it.

But then, he felt her hands hovering dangerously close to his neck. And suddenly, his body stiffened. The collar of his shirt was slightly rumpled, and if she just tugged it a little—

Shit. The bite mark.

Panic started to rise, clawing its way up his throat. She was right there. If she just brushed her thumb to the side—

Think, Yoichi. Lie. Something normal. Say it was your girlfriend? But what kind of freaky girlfriend bites you hard enough to leave a mark like that?

Football? Football made no damn sense!

Whatever excuse he came up with, it had to be good. But most importantly, he couldn’t let her see. Not because he was hiding the truth, but because he didn’t know what the truth was.

Before he could react, she suddenly pulled him into a crushing embrace.

“I just…” Her voice cracked. “I heard these football clubs, these European academies, can keep you for years! Half a decade, even!”

“Well, yeah…” he replied hesitantly, half-muffled by her shoulder.

“YOU’RE WILLING TO LEAVE YOUR MOTHER TO GO HAVE FUN IN SPAIN?!” she shrieked, tightening her arms like she was trying to physically prevent him from leaving. Her strength was alarming.

“OW! Mom, seriously—!” He tried wriggling free, gently pushing her off, but it was like wrestling a boa constrictor.

His dad coughed to hide a snort. “Stop digging your grave deeper,” he muttered under his breath, amused in the way only a long-married man could be.

“Stop making jokes!” Iyo snapped, her tears returning with fresh fury. “It’s not funny! Yoichi’s leaving in two days, and I—I need time to process this!”

She released him, slowly, like her body didn’t want to let go. Her arms dropped to her sides as she took a step back, her eyes glassy and red. And without another word, she turned on her heel and walked toward the hallway, shoulders tense. The quiet sound of her bedroom door closing left a strange hollow echo behind her.

Isagi stood in the center of the room, stunned.

He looked at his dad, who was now sitting calmly on the couch, sipping lukewarm tea like nothing had happened.

“…Was that normal?” Isagi asked, cautiously.

“Hmm.” His dad leaned back, expression unreadable. “Define ‘normal.’”

Isagi sighed, lowering himself onto the nearby armrest, the letter still clutched in his hand.

Spain.

Two days.

He didn’t know what unsettled him more, his mother’s emotional spiral, or the fact that part of him wasn’t so sure about this either.

He didn’t realize that’s how his mom would react and it was making him reluctant to go, but part of him wanted to understand where she was coming from—he just couldn’t. His father was fine, and she was fine with Blue Lock so what changed now? Thankfully the silence that embodied the house helped him think clearer, still, he recognized his dad walking back to his room, hopefully to try to calm her down. 

He took the letter that was on the floor in his hand, rereading it over and over again whilst also moving to his room, still feeling his outdoor clothes on his skin which made him extra sensitive to everything around him. 

A gentle buzz vibrated from his back pocket. 

He chose to ignore it for the time being until he reached his room and finally changed out of these damned clothes that are almost burning into him. 

Or maybe that’s just him. 

After all, he’s always been extra sensitive to his surroundings. 

He threw the letter on his nightstand and immediately took off his shirt. 

God, it felt freeing. 

KNOCK. 

Isagi was startled by the sound of knocking—which, by the way, was definitely not coming from the door. He turned his head around, looking around his room to try to see where exactly it came from. Another sound made its way to his room, this time smaller, as if it was done by fingernails tapping onto…

The window! 

Right! 

He quickly ran to open his curtains. His heartbeats accelerated the more he got closer, still, he didn’t want to sleep without knowing what was out there. 

Isagi reached his window and chose to open only so much from the curtain to help him see. Just enough to take a peak. 

“Navitsu?!” 

The green eyed man simply waved, a soft smile on his face, but it was clear—he was troubled. His eyes were pretty… pretty annoyed. And his lips were pulled into a thin line. 

“Yo,” he greeted Isagi. 

It was barely audible, since the window was yet to be opened, Navitsu tapped again, this time pointing at the window handle. Isagi quickly understood and opened and moved away for the latter to enter safely. While he was doing that, Isagi’s mind was running marathons, thinking of every single possibility for him to be here, as if this was just like any other match he had to analyze. 

But his mind kept going to places he couldn’t go in a million years. 

So he shyly looked down, like he was some sort of princess in a kids novel and his knight being Navitsu. 

Clearly, he wasn’t interested in his prince. 

“I just,” Navitsu began, dusting the dirt from the window, “I needed to talk to you.” 

Immediately, Isagi got serious. Right to business. 

“Sure, since you came through the window like a stalker, I assumed it was important.” He tried to tease him but it went over Navitsu’s head. He sighed, “yeah, yeah, what’s up?” 

“Your mom called me a while ago.”

Isagi groaned rather loudly, “did she now?” He rubbed the temple of his forehead with one hand and put the other on his hip, “yeah I was also confused about the entire thing. What’s her deal? Why does she act like she’s suddenly so worried about me?” He asked no one in particular and yet hoped for answers.

Navitsu’s eyes darkened as Isagi kept going on and on about how it was no big deal but Isagi didn’t seem to notice the shift yet. 

“Like seriously,” Isagi exasperated, “I’ll just be gone for like what? Five years—?” 

“And that’s not too long?” Navitsu cut through.

The sudden sharpness on his tongue made Isagi almost flinch, his eyes now finally turning to the contracting green ones. 

Isagi’s heartbeats started accelerating by the second, his expression automatically turned neutral but the panic in his eyes betrayed him. His body stilled, and his breaths evened out eventually. 

Not this.

Not again.

Please don’t yell at me.

“You’re okay leaving everyone behind?” Navitsu shot, “just like that?”

Isagi remained silent, his heart hiding a hidden storm full of unwanted emotions but barely any showed, which was probably a bad idea, considering Navitsu probably felt like he didn’t care and this wasn’t helping. 

But Navitsu didn’t comment on it, thankfully, “of course mom is worried about you.” The more he spoke the more Isagi’s chest pained him, “I’m worried about you.” He finished, though his voice didn’t show much warmth, his words offered some.

Silence remained, mostly because Isagi was really scared of saying the wrong thing which would make Navitsu hate him.

He’d never…

No…

He won’t go to Madrid… 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Isagi lowered his head.

“Say something.”

He didn’t.

Couldn’t.

“What do you want me to do?” Isagi questioned with a determined look on his face.

This is chapter 10

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, <- 10 -> 11

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 9 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 9:

Continuing day five of the break

— 

After washing his face with ice cold water, Isagi finally managed to calm down his flushed face. He physically couldn’t face his mother yet, or father for that matter, they’d both immediately pick up on what happened and he’d never escape their teasing. 

But a part of Isagi was more scared of them figuring out that he likes both sexes. He wasn’t sure how they viewed such relations, and how it would affect their relationship with their son. He knew they’d love him regardless, but maybe this topic… it just seems so… personal.

They were never religious to begin with—but that was how most parents in Japan like. 

And anyways, he doubts they’d kick him out just because he made out with his best friend on his bed, right? He hopes it doesn’t get too far. Not now at least. Because while he sure as hell didn’t want his parents finding out, if Ego or any member of the Japanese Football Association finds out about this he’s doomed. They’d never allow him to play football or participate in any official match ever again. He’d also be immediately kicked out of Blue Lock. 

Next time they should take precauti—wait, next time?!

What is he thinking?! That was just a one time thing! As if Navitsu would ever do this again.

He wouldn’t be against it per se, but he wants Navitsu to want it as much as he does.

He sighs one last time whilst looking at the bathroom mirror to make sure nothing looks abnormal, thankfully things didn’t escalate too far so there wasn’t much to fix other than his face and a little something…

Isagi makes his way towards the kitchen where his parents have already started eating without him, but he noticed that Navitsu was too busy talking to them to eat his. They looked so happy. And Isagi wishes it always stays this way forever. He’ll cherish these memories and these people till the day he dies.

Navitsu was the first to catch a glimpse of Isagi, waving at him to come sit with them, praising his mother’s cooking to try to convince him to hurry up, which caused her to blush and playfully pinch his arm. Isagi smiles fondly at them.

Sheesh.

One word and this could be gone.

No way. He’ll take it to his grave. Even if it meant letting go of Navitsu.

Their happiness is his priority.

He finally sat down next to his friend who filled his plate with food, making sure it could fill Isagi up. His dad laughed at how motherly Navitsu was towards , making everyone smile wholeheartedly. By the time they finished eating, Navitsu and Isagi were left to clean up the table and dishes.

Navitsu took care of the dishes as usual, and Isagi cleared the table.

By the stares Isagi was getting from Navitsu, he knew he wanted to talk about what happened earlier. But he couldn't bring himself to look at him directly, as if he was too shy to do so, but considering what happened on the bed earlier, Navitsu had some doubts.

“Hey, Yocchan,” Navistu sheepishly mumbled, eyes laser focused on the spoons he has in hand, as he scrubbed them for the millionth time already. Isagi hummed in response. “Abou–”

Suddenly, Isagi jumped from the sudden vibration coming from his pants. It was his phone, but he forgot he kept the sound high in case Anri would call to talk about the third phase since it was two days from now. He picks his phone up to see if it really is her. Unfortunately though, it’s an unknown, foreign number.

Confused, he looked at Navitsu, who was already looking at him with a puzzled look.

“I have to—”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, go.” Navitsu turns away from Isagi, just enough to give him a sense of privacy.

Finally, he accepts the call before the caller ends it.

“Guten Morgen, Schatz." The caller finally said, and Isagi could feel the smirk they had whilst saying it. It confused him though, who is this and why are they not speaking to him in Japanese?

(eng/Good morning, babe)

“Excuse me?” He questioned.

The caller laughed out loud, clearly amused by his confusion, and when he finally settled down he started again, his voice dripping with condensation. “Was? Schon vergessen, wer ich bin?” 

(eng/What? Already forgotten who I am?")

It took Isagi all his willpower not to hang up on him when he finally realized who it was, he grumbled and hissed at his phone, hoping Kaiser would hear him when he did to announce his annoyance. 

But, for some reason, he started heading towards his bedroom, “Shit. Wait, I don’t have the earbuds on.” 

“Hm? Klar doch… Ich warte nur auf dich.”

(eng/Hm? Of course… I’m only waiting for you.”

And for the life of him, Isagi couldn’t bring himself to care about what the hell Kaiser just said. Still, he put on the earbuds whilst he laid lazily on his bed, reviving the memories from earlier yet again, just to feel the same flutter in his stomach that felt so good to ignore at the time. How Navitsu’s tears fell on his face when they made out. He couldn’t believe that happened. Let alone he initiated it. 

His fingers found themselves caressing his soft lips the more he thought about his friend. However, since the day seemed keen on interrupting his desires, a hum broke him from his thoughts, forcing him to accidentally bite down on his finger. He remembered that Kaiser was waiting on the other line which made him annoyed once more. 

“Back,” he replied begrudgingly, as if this call was what’s stopping Isagi from being with Navitsu, which, in a way, it was. “Now, what do you want?”

Unfortunately, his rudeness didn’t budge Kaiser, but instead it helped entice it further, “sheesh, so harsh as usual, . Maybe you’re back to normal?” He breathed into the phone, “I prefer you drunk.”

Isagi’s eyes widened, but then his surprise turned into pure anger. “What the fuck did you just say? Did you do something to me last night, you clown?!” 

Kaiser hummed proudly, “I changed your life for the better if that’s what you mean. In fact—” But suddenly he was cut off by the other, while he knew dear  wouldn’t like what happened last night, he didn’t think he’d be this mad. Pretty overkill if you asked him.

But Isagi was having none of that, “who the fuck do you think you are?! Think you can do whatever you want to me just because you think you’re some hot shit?!”

“I am hot shit.”

“I’ll fucking kill you next time I see you.”

“Cute. Anyways, I called you for that reason specifically.”

“To commit suicide?” Isagi scoffed, “I can certainly help with that.”

“To meet you.”

The sprout-head was caught off guard for a second, but quickly regained his composure, “I’d rather die.” Seriously, where did Kaiser even get his phone number? And why is he acting so cocky after what he’d done to him? He should be worried Isagi would out him and ruin his entire career. 

“Wouldn’t you rather kill me? You left something with me yesterday.”

What? Like his dignity? He was about to cuss Kaiser out even more before his eyes fell on the necklace that he’s wearing on his wrist. May lord have mercy on Kaiser, because he won’t be showing any. He’ll shove it so far down his throat and take his own necklace back. 

“Trust me, You want to come see what I have.” Oh, Kaiser will want to see what is coming his way, just you wait. “Right, and also. What exactly do you remember from last night?”

“...”

“Heh, guess I’ll have to see you to know. Bye, bye!”

And with that, he hung up the phone. With whatever willpower he had left, he stopped himself from breaking the phone once he saw that Kaiser sent him a message. 

It was… an address. 

— — — — —

(Last night)

“You smoke?”

Kaiser looked up from his cigarette, his eyes trailing the figure standing behind him. His eyes then widened in surprise when he saw who bothered to come after him, but that quickly turned into unamusement. He huffed a breath in retaliation.

“Rarely.”

And with that, he thought the conversation was over already. He didn’t expect  to plop down next to him, as if they’ve done it a million times.  sure was full of surprises today. Still. It was an odd sight,  was. He looked a lot more relaxed than earlier inside, he allowed the wind to caress his hair carelessly, and closed his eyes to strengthen his other senses.

Kaiser would rather die than admit it, but peace suited him. 

It really allowed his other features shine. 

Unlike how he always was with him, so pissy and angry like he kicked his dog. It made Kaiser all the more amused by the strong hatred he had stored in that body of his, especially when it was mostly directed at him.

“Didn’t peg you for the type.”  finally spoke, his smile gone with the wind but his eyes remained happy as they were. In Kaiser’s daze, he had forgotten that  wasn’t just there like he seemed to be the last couple weeks, but actually sitting next to him and acknowledging him.

But he was very good at hiding his emotions, so he masked the silent buzzing in his chest cleverly. “Did you need something?” The German looked away, like a child throwing a tantrum. For some reason, he had the urge to punish  by not giving him attention like he’s been doing. Not like Kaiser would say it affected him one bit, because it didn’t.

He couldn’t see , but he heard a breath that sounded like a small chuckle. “It was getting loud in there. Just wanted some fresh air.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

Maybe now the conversation could be over?

“You know, you get pretty hostile when you’re drunk.”

Kaiser scoffed pretty loudly, but decided to dain his cigarette with some attention. “And you get soft.” He wished he could read the other’s mind, if it was being used at all.

 shrugged his shoulders, accepting the insult for whatever reason. Seriously. What is. Going on. In his brain?! “I guess so. But I don’t mind it, it makes me think more logically.” A blatant lie, but one he couldn’t call him out on. 

Because his brain works beautifully under stress, and Kaiser, as usual, wouldn’t be caught dead saying that shit. As would Isagi if he heard it from Kaiser. 

“Do you ever? Unless it’s football related I doubt you use your brain.”

“See? Hostile,”  mused, his voice giddy.

Jesus, was  so drunk he didn’t mind Kaiser?

Why the hell was he still talking to him? 

He took in another breath from his cigarette.

’s eyes seemed to trail Kaiser’s movements, and the other did his best to try and ignore his prying eyes. He’s so used to having eyes on him, hell, even ’s. But this time it feels… weirdly personal. He doesn’t know whether to make a show of his handsome features to the sprout-head, or to tear his eyes off.

“Can I try your cigarette?” 

“Huh? Why’d you want to?”

“I don’t know. I’m curious how it managed to calm you down after earlier.”

Again, it baffled Kaiser how much  thought he understood, but in reality he couldn’t be further from it. He finally gathered his pettiness and put it aside to look at the blue eyed striker, “what makes you think I’m relaxed now?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.” Absolutely not. 

“Why?”

What a valid question… thankfully though, Kaiser didn’t bother asking himself that. He would much rather do what he deems appropriate. So for him there were other questions worth asking, such as; why the hell is  so interested in him right now?

“Careful. You sound like a friend who might actually care,” he resorted.

But instead, ’s face just turned passive, as if his remark made him sober right up. “I don’t care.” He finally said, tearing his eyes away from Kaiser and instead focused them on the night sky that was now filled with stars. “I’m just curious. Also you were pretty nasty in there, I wanna know why.”

Liar. Kaiser wanted to say. 

“Yeah, well. Your pretty face annoyed me.”

Liar. Isagi thought.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Well. I’ll make sure you won’t have to look at me again.” Isagi teased, his head remained pointed at the sky, but his eyes made their way towards Kaiser, a sarcastic smile on his face.

But Kaiser said nothing, letting the cigarette burn for a little too long.

“Would you get off my back then?”

Isagi knew what he was doing. He was doing his best to make Kaiser snap, and it seemed to be working, slower than one would’ve liked. But he’ll take his chances.

Kaiser, on the other hand, was too busy thinking of something else. “Do you know what my problem with you is?” His voice dripping with accusations, he sure knew what he was doing and was simply acting dumb. It made him angry just thinking of having played in his game. “Your denseness. You act like you don’t notice, but your eyes see everything.” He’d known better than anyone, after all,  managed to outsmart him of all people.

Finally, the striker turned to fully take in Kaiser’s form. “Look, I’m not sure what you think I know. But I don’t.” He honestly said, going as far as to put his hand on his heart as a promise, but he couldn’t help but worry about the burning cigarette. 

“Oh, you know.” Kaiser glared at Isagi, feeling offended by his ‘honesty’. Oh, how much he hated liars. 

“Try me.” Isagi challenged.

Kaiser remained quiet after that, figuring it was more trouble to talk about it. And he’d rather ignore his problems.

“Well?”

‘Just shut up, .’

“Fine, at least tell me why you indulged Navitsu in that fight.”

Does he not know anything other than football and Navitsu? “He started it.”

Isagi nodded at that, “I know.” he treaded carefully with his words, it seemed like the topic hit a sensitive spot for Kaiser. “But it seemed to get personal the more you two interacted.”

Kaiser, seeing his cigarette now burnt and useless, got a new one out. “Tsk. And just when I thought I could forget that pest.” He took in a deep breath, which caused him to fall in a coughing fit. He caught a glimpse of  looking at him strangely, but he didn’t know why, must’ve been the way he choked on his own breath that caused him to make a face that resembled the past. Ness always warned him about it. “Were you two attached at the hip or something?” He struggled to speak, but  understood him. 

Isagi smiled softly, trying not to make a show of what just happened. “Pretty much,” he remembered the past, where they were quite literally attached to each other, neither of them wanting to let go of the other. Back when that little shit wasn’t so embarrassed to shower him in affection in public. And back when Isagi was sure they shared the same feelings. 

Since Kaiser got so quiet, Isagi decided to check if he’s still awake, his silence is very worrisome. Seriously, has this guy ever shut up? Apparently he can. 

He was met with narrowed eyes that twitched slightly. Though Kaiser was looking at him, for the first time ever, it didn’t feel aimed at Isagi like it usually was. It brought chills from earlier he thought were gone.

Finally, he gave his best awkward smile, “there it is. That look from earlier. It creeps me the fuck out.” He bit the inside of his cheek while lightly fidgeting with his necklace.

Kaiser’s body flinched, as if momentarily stunned, his narrowed eyes now widened. Thankfully, luck was on his side since Isagi was still too busy playing with his necklace, with a stupid, sappy smile plastered on his face, to notice his reaction. 

It wasn’t his choice of words that surprised him, it was the expression he had while saying it.

What the fuck was happening to Kaiser?

Why was his chest suddenly fluttering all of a sudden? 

Why was Isagi acting so… genuine, making him feel this way?

Without realizing, Kaiser’s body shifted closer to Isagi’s, who was looking at him now with questioning eyes. The German boy couldn’t believe what was happening, it was one thing after the other, but he just couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud. 

It felt real, like it was his first. 

“Heh… Here, try.”

Kaiser, while trying to conceal his laugh (and failing miserably), handed Isagi his cigarette that was barely burning still.

The latter looked at him suspiciously, still very much caught off guard by the sudden change in demeanor. Still, he didn’t want Kaiser to start acting hostile with him again tonight, he wanted to get some answers, but the more he interacted with Kaiser the less he understood. And right now? He just hopes Kaiser doesn’t suddenly flash him with a gun. Very random, but he expects anything at this point.

So he took the cigarette in his finger, while also feeling suspicious towards the man sitting beside him. He felt his eyes on him, but unlike inside, it wasn’t harsh nor filled with hatred. This time it was more calm, almost… loving? 

‘Ok, calm down, Yoichi.’ He thought internally, ‘let’s take it down a notch.’

Finally, feeling repulsed by his own thoughts, he took a deep breath, thinking that it was better to change where this was heading. Unfortunately, he didn’t expect to just straight up choke on the smoke. 

He started coughing hysterically, noticing that the laugh coming from Kaiser was just increasing by the minute. That piece of shit knew what he got him into! Finally, his lungs calmed down, “that’s disgusting.”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” Kaiser said in between laughs, he looked quite handsome if you asked Isagi. Anger and condescension weren’t a good look on him. Geez, what’s up with him tonight? First he thought Navitsu was going to confess to him, now he’s looking at Kaiser’s biceps—wait what?! When did his eyes move there?! 

Isagi immediately looked down at his feet, counting how many rocks were on the pavement. Kaiser grabbed the cigarette from him, took one last deep breath and then threw it on the ground. 

“Why do you smoke then?” Isagi questioned, now eyeing the smashed cigarette.

Kaiser shrugged, “I don’t, not really. Just when I get my shit absolutely wrecked.” He slowly started facing Isagi, the peace that laid on his face remained oddly comfortably. “Guess I’m a masochist.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” Isagi hissed warmly.

Kaiser giggled at that, “did you like it?”

“Not at all.”

“Weird. Always took you for a masochist.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that in front of everyone earlier.”

Kaiser’s face fell for a mere second, a glimpse of guilt flashed but was quickly buried under, but Isagi caught it.

“Can you blame me?”

Isagi nodded, “yes, I can. You don’t know me.” He insisted. 

It was Kaiser’s turn to grumble, “I know you plenty.”

“Like what?”

“Like how easily influenced you are by the most mundane people ever.”

“Like who?”

“Noa, that fucker who thought could mount to me, and your friends.”

Isagi let out a deep sigh, not sure how their peace was so easily dismantled. But seriously, looking back, Kaiser seemed pretty genuine with him. He… didn’t mind hanging out with him anymore… Still! He simply respected the guy, that doesn’t mean he likes him as a person yet. 

He liked his plays, his skills, and deeply admired his goals. But he was still an asshole.

“You know. It confuses me when you’re nice to me but mean to me in front of others.”

“I’m not nice.”

“You’re not mean either.”

— — — — —

If it was possible, Bachira would never choose to wake up so early. Unfortunately though, he had chosen a very bad spot to sleep in; in front of the window, where he could just lean in and barf whenever he felt sick.

Plus, the night breeze was too good to pass on.

But now he was regretting that. With the sun on his face he can’t do much other than wake up completely. He tossed and turned for five minutes before deciding that he could no longer fall asleep again.

His eyes, now wide awake, scanned the room, trying to figure out where he was.

Thankfully, he managed to locate a handful of his friends easily. So he got up lazily, a groan escaping him, and dragged his feet to the nearest one—Chigiri. Feeling extra mischievous this morning, he chose to tople onto the red-head. 

“Ow! What t—” But his cries fell on deaf ears.

Bachira groaned, “why did you bring me here?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Chigiri managed to push Bachira just enough to look him in the eye. “Did you eat something funny?”

“Nope,” a new voice joined, walking in the living room from the kitchen. “He’s just hungover,” Reo brushed his wet hair out of his face, water dripping on the floor. Clearly he was fine even after drinking, considering he was in a fucking robe.

Chigiri struggled to get Bachira off of him, so at the end, he just gave up and turned his focus towards Reo, “will you also offer us a hot shower and a robe?” He deadpanned.

Reo looked quite offended, like Chigiri had just killed Nagi, “and have Shidou masterbate in my bathroom?! I don’t think so!” 

Well, Chigiri didn’t really think that through, in fact, the thought that the others from yesterday were also sleeping here didn’t cross his mind whatsoever. So imagine his surprise when he noticed that he was sleeping on someone’s foot. 

He quickly sat up to eye the culprit, only to find that gossip-instigating bastard. 

“Move your damn feet,” he hit the crow-headed man harshly; waking him in the process. The latter opened his eyes immediately and met Chigiri’s harsh glares in an animated manner. Once he saw that he was clearly not welcome, Karasu groaned and sat up quickly to defend himself in case of another attack. 

“Gosh, princess. Calm down,” Karasu spoke in a deep, hoarse voice. 

“Fuck off, man.” 

Another man, who laid next to Karasu, slowly sat up like a zombie, lazily throwing an arm on him. After gaining some attention from the crowd, he finally announced; “you can put your feet on me.”

“Real shit?” Karasu mused.

“Real shit.”

Chigiri almost gagged at the two, but quickly shook his head and managed to refocus on Reo who finished making coffee and was already sipping it peacefully. “Who else is here?” He asked the owner of the ‘house’.

“Well, I just saw Shidou laying on the kitchen floor like a goddamn speed bump.” Reo shrugged.

“And I can see Hiori sleeping on the couch behind me,” Karasu pointed at the couch, making a show that he had to sleep on the ground for the other’s comfort.

Otoya looked there, his mouth forming an ‘o’, “is that Kurona next to him?” And lo and behold, under the pile of blankets laid Kurona, calmly snoring the day away. 

Chigir nodded at the duo, and looked at the head that was settled on his lap in a questioning manner, as if asking ‘and you?’. Bachira shook his head, indicating that he, in fact, didn’t see anyone except for the people present in front of him.

Suddenly, a whistle was heard coming from Otoya, “maybe they’re in the bedrooms.”

And that comment seemed to set Reo moving, he quickly started making a beeline upstairs while screaming profanities on his way in an attempt to wake them up if they were really in the rooms. 

Otoya and Bachira started snickering under their breaths, clear amusement dripping. However, Karasu turned his focus on the boy laying behind him, gently shaking the couch with the strength he could muster after waking up after a hangover. 

The cyan-headed man passively opened his eyes, waking up more tenderly than the rest of them. The headache, however, wasn’t as forgiving as his awakening. He groaned the more he moved around. The movements automatically stirred the man next to him. 

Hiori mumbled a small ‘sorry’ when he saw his friend’s eyes fluttering open. 

“Never again. Never again.” 

“Damn right,” Chigiri agreed. 

And immediately Reo enters the scene again, “they weren’t doing anything nasty, but they still dirtied the rooms with puke and shit,” Reo huffed, returning to the cup of coffee that was set on the table before he left. 

The room stayed looking at Reo, clearly waiting for more details, but he simply kept on going on about spraying lace around the house to prevent certain urges. Behind him, another head was going down the stairs. Everyone stiffened without realization, their mouths opening ajar. 

Hiori was the first to suspect him, eyeing him with a sharp gaze. “What are you doing here? Is Kaiser also here? Is he trying to do something to Isagi—”

“Geez, get off my dick.” Ness made his way towards the kitchen, almost stumbling on Shidou in the process. He poured the last bit of coffee that was left from Reo when he made it. “Do you really wanna talk about that in front of everyone?” He asked, purposely not looking at Hiori.

But the cyan-head just narrowed his eyes in suspicion, what did Ness mean by that? “I have nothing to hide, and neither does Isagi.” He assured firmly, not entertaining the thought. 

Ness gave a breathy laugh, almost scoffing at Hiori, but at the same time he seemed genuinely against the idea, as if he knew something the others didn’t know. 

Otoya, surprisingly, was the first to call him out. “You do know something, don’t ya’?” His voice sounded unfiltered and still raw after waking up hungover, reminding the rest of their own equally painful headache and nausea. 

Bachira spared his teammate one last time before settling on Ness, but the German man remained unbothered by the glares and harsh stares he was getting, probably since he was already used to it from BM’s Blue Lock members (ahem, Raichi, Isagi). But Bachira seemed keen on quietly analyzing him, it caused Chigiri to feel goosebumps from how cold Bachira turned when he first laid eyes on Ness.

He couldn’t explain it, but Bachira was furious if he’d ever seen him mad.

“This doesn’t concern any of you.” 

“Every single time,” Hiori moved his entire body to face Ness, his eyebrows narrowing in frustration. “Every single time we went out, and Kaiser happened to see Isagi, he would try to start something up. Just what does he hope to achieve when he ruins the night for everyone. Yesterday you were lucky we were drained and therefore didn’t give him much mind, but if he starts that again when we are out, trust me when I say he won’t see Isagi till the day he dies.”

Otoya made some cat gestures, a means to mock Hiori’s threats, which earned him a slap on the shoulder from Karasu who was fairly impressed. 

“What do you even think Kaiser wants from Isagi?” Karasu asked, turning his head to look directly at Hiori, who in return put his hand on his chin to think about it.

“Nothing.” Ness declared, “or at least, nothing that’s too bad.” 

“And just what does that mean?” Finally, Reo asked suspiciously. Quite frankly, he wasn’t too bothered by the situation, until he personally talked to Kaiser and decided he wanted to personally see him fail before his eyes.

Ness looked down, “why do you always assume the worst?” 

Reo raised an accusatory eyebrow at him, not sure if he was being serious or just taunting them. “Are you seriously asking that?”

“Yes, genuinely,” Ness assured, and for a second, he seemed honestly interested in what they were so concerned about. “I know Kaiser, and I know his tendency to be… a jerk is an issue to you. But I can guarantee you that he is very much capable of loving someone.” He said with a sad undertone and a heavy breath, and if anyone noticed, they didn't mention it.

“Wait, pause,” Chigiri suddenly jolted, taking a sharp inhale before continuing, “love?! When did we start talking about love?!”

The room quickly turned their heads towards Ness, waiting for him to explain what the fuck he just said. 

On the other hand, the latter seemed confused by their surprise, clearly stunned by the sudden outburst coming from everyone all at once. 

“I mean…” Ness tilted his head to the side, “aren’t you just mad that Kaiser isn’t confessing to Isagi?” He innocently asked. 

“…?”

The room erupts in chaos, people (Hiori) accidentally stepping on others (Karasu) to get to where Ness was standing, or others (Otoya) laughing at the proclamation. And one singular man was as still as a wall, not yet processing the information.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?”

“CONFESS? WAIT, MAYBE IN GERMAN IT HAS ANOTHER MEANING!”

Ness was almost hit in the process, and absolutely flabbergasted. 

Finally, once the rest calmed down, Ness started speaking again. “I meant it in the way,” his face reddened, “you like, like someone?”

“Like, like someone?” Otoya asked with a teasing smirk, “that’s serious, man.”

Chigiri threw Otoya one last glare before turning back and placing a hand on Ness’s shoulder. “Can you explain it to us?”

Ness looked down, anger and weeks of pent-up frustration weighing on him. He’d never talked to anyone about this—and nobody had asked, until now, when Isagi Yoichi was involved. He didn’t care what they thought of him, but the way they saw Kaiser was unfair—flat-out wrong. Kaiser’s behavior wasn’t his fault, and only Ness had bothered to understand him, or at least tried to. 

Finally, he met with Chigiri’s less aggressive eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to explain.” He stubbornly said, refusing to show weakness in front of these people who rejected Kaiser. He didn’t have enough time to react before someone grabbed his collar quickly, causing his head to spin faster than he could handle before the headache came back.

Ness looked at the person who seemed to take this too seriously than needed, “listen here you walking migraine,” Bachira threatened, and Ness could hear some people in the background trying to stop him but failing. “You’ll tell that clown to stay as far away as physically possible from Yoichi, got it?” 

He could feel some sweat drop from his forehead, but with his free hands he grabbed and pulled on Bachira’s hair. “Why the hell would you want them away from each other?!” He yelled angrily, feeling a pair of strong arms grabbing him from his waist in an attempt to get him off of Bachira. 

“That fucker doesn’t deserve Yoichi, that’s why!” Bachira shrieked, a grimace crossing his usually bright face, an arm grabbed him and finally managed to push him to the ground with a thud. Then, a foot stomped on his stomach to keep him in place. 

Ness, still up and restrained, screeched back. “Yoichi should be happy someone like Kaiser is giving him the time of day!” 

“You piece of—” 

Another figure appeared in the room, quickly moving to punch Ness right in the stomach and kicking Bachira’s side. It happened so fast the others weren’t able to stop him, but regardless, were very grateful for his interruption. 

Barou looked at the two in disappointment and anger, “you two care to explain why I just woke up because of you?” He glared.

This is chapter 9

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, <- 9 -> 10

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 8 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 8:

Day four of the break

— 

"Daarin."

A voice called out to him—soft, almost fond—like it belonged to someone who knew him too well, meant only for him to hear.

"Yoichi."

The sound pulled at him, dragging him from the depths of sleep. He stirred weakly, his body heavy, limbs sinking into the mattress like he hadn’t moved in hours. There was a warmth pressed against his back—a hand. Steady, grounding.

So warm.

So saf—

"Wake the hell up."

The sudden bark snapped him out of it, cracking across his half-dream like a whip. His entire body jolted, and his eyes flew open in panic. Blinding sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, painting his childhood bedroom in soft golden hues. Dust particles floating lazily in the air, undisturbed until now. The familiar smell of fresh laundry, a faint trace of floor cleaner, and something cooking downstairs seeped into his senses—too much, too fast.

Isagi blinked, squinting against the light as his mind struggled to catch up. Soccer posters—old, curling at the edges—still clung to the walls. Faded magazine clippings of players he once idolized covered the corkboard. It was his room. Home.

Hovering above him were two faces—familiar, too close.

His parents.

Both wore the same teasing grin, eyes alight with something bordering between amusement and mischief.

Isagi groaned low in his throat, instinctively trying to roll away from them, but his mom was faster. She leaned in, cool fingers pinching his cheek with practiced ease.

“Why are you waking me up?” he mumbled, voice gravelly, dry like he’d swallowed sand. His throat burned, his head pounded.

They both laughed. Loud. Too loud. It echoed in his skull.

His dad reached out, ruffling Isagi’s dark hair with no mercy. “What’s with that face, huh? You look like hell, Yoichi.”

“I’m serious,” Isagi rasped, glaring weakly at them. He forced himself upright, his head spinning violently at the motion. Muscles ached, protesting every small movement. He grabbed onto his dad’s arm like a lifeline, steadying himself. “What is it?”

His mom recovered first, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye as she giggled, eyes softening as they settled on him. "I can’t believe it. My baby boy’s officially an adult now," she teased, her voice thick with nostalgia. She nudged her husband, “Remember how hopeless he was as a kid?”

“Absolutely,” his dad snorted, placing a heavy hand on Isagi’s back. The weight was solid, reassuring. “Honestly thought football was going to be the end of you. Figured you'd keel over on the field one day—alone and all depressed.”

Isagi groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. His palm felt coarse against his skin, dry lips pressing together tightly. "God… what are you even talking about right now?"

Their laughter only grew. Bright. Familiar. Annoying. Yet somehow comforting.

“Of course you don’t remember,” his mom teased, practically bouncing now, as if restraining herself from bursting at the seams. “It’s your first hangover, Yoichi!”

Isagi’s blood ran cold. His eyes shot open, and he nearly choked on air. "What?" he gasped, his voice cracking as panic crept up his throat. "What did you just say?"

His mom leaned forward, cupping his face with both hands now, her thumbs brushing his cheeks like she was soothing a startled child. "It’s okay, sweetheart. You were safe," she whispered with a chuckle, as if that made it better. She pulled back and pointed toward the door. "Navitsu made sure of that. Called last night and said you stayed out with your… handsome friend for a bit longer." Her voice carried something playful, something knowing, but it only made Isagi’s stomach twist tighter.

Handsome friend?

Isagi’s brows furrowed. He swallowed thickly, his throat dry and scratchy. "Navitsu?" He turned his bleary gaze toward his dad, searching for anything—any sign this was some sick joke.

His dad shrugged lazily, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "She’s not pulling your leg, kid. It’s real."

Isagi sat there, stunned, his hands loosely gripping the blanket around his waist. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. "Just… tell me what happened," he croaked, barely able to piece together his own words. Flashes of the night—blurry, scattered—tried clawing back to him but slipped through his fingers every time.

His mom pursed her lips, tapping a finger against her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Hmm… Well, around ten or so, Navitsu called your dad. Said you and your friends were gonna stay out a bit longer. He did mention drinks, but honestly?" She snorted. "We didn’t believe him."

"I’d have bet money—hell, my arm and leg—that you wouldn’t drink," his dad snorted. "You’re way too uptight for that crap."

“Thanks, Dad,” Isagi deadpanned, voice barely above a whisper.

"Anyway…" His mom glanced at his dad—silent communication flashing between them—before she sighed. "Navitsu said your group split up. He went off with his crowd, but… someone else—one of your friends—was going to get you home."

"Which friend?" Isagi’s voice cracked, sharper now. His pulse quickened, a bad feeling settling deep in his gut. "Was it… Hiori?"

His mom blinked. Turned. Looked at his dad. Both wore matching guilty expressions now.

“We didn’t ask, baby,” she admitted softly, shoulders drooping. "Navitsu left a number, said whoever it was… they made sure you were safe."

Safe.

Isagi’s throat closed up. He let out a slow, shaky exhale, slumping back against the headboard as his head fell back. The dull, persistent throb behind his eyes only worsened. "It’s fine, Mom. I’ll… call Navi."

His mom beamed, relief washing over her face as she straightened up. “Breakfast is ready whenever you want it, sweetheart. I made your favorite—miso soup.”

But her voice was already a distant echo, drowned out by the pounding in his head and the whirl of dread rising in his chest. Isagi stared at his phone resting on the bedside table. He thought of calling Navitsu, but he thought texting might be better. 

Friday 1:47 pm

Isagi_Yoichi: Hey Navitsu

He waited for a bit, thinking he might not get a response yet. Navitsu always made sure to answer quickly whenever he could. That’s how they were with each other, but considering he might also be hangover, he wasn—

Friday 1:48 pm

Navi ♡‪‪: whats up

Isagi_Yoichi: Are you busy today?

Navi ♡‪‪: no why

do you wanna meet up ¬‿¬

Isagi_Yoichi: Yeah! 

Whenever you can!

Navi ♡‪‪: sure no problem, ill get ready now

see ya (⬭ω⬭  )

Isagi beamed at the message, light practically radiating from his face as if the sun itself had chosen him. His heart thrummed, racing with the kind of anticipation only he could stir. The world outside blurred, irrelevant compared to the one name glowing on his screen.

Without hesitation, Isagi shot up from his bed. Clothes were discarded, the shower handle turned until the steam fogged the mirror. He moved through his routine like muscle memory, shampooing twice, meticulously brushing his teeth until his gums ached, everything had to be perfect. Not a wrinkle, not a strand of hair out of place. Not today. Not when it was Navitsu asking to meet.

Because once upon a time, they met almost every day. Rain or sunny, school night or not, they’d find each other. If it wasn’t outside, it was in his room, sitting side by side, half-heartedly playing games, basking in that lazy comfort only childhood friends could create.

They didn’t need to speak. Silence was as sacred as laughter.

Or at least, that’s how Isagi remembers it.

After that… argument, Isagi wasn’t sure anymore. Every memory they spent together Isagi was smiling from ear to ear, barely noticing whether Navitsu was mirroring his expression or not. While it may seem out of character for Isagi, he's ashamed to admit that he honestly doesn’t care. In a rotten place deep inside his heart, he’s only ever caring about Navitsu being around him or not.

Because if Navitsu left — if Navitsu chose to be anywhere but next to him — Isagi didn’t know who he’d be without that anchor.

And if Navitsu wasn’t happy? If he didn’t smile back? Then Isagi would just have to—

"Why do I keep thinking back to the argument?" Isagi suddenly hissed through clenched teeth, shaking his head hard enough to make water droplets fly. "Move on. It was just a disagreement. He’s happy. He’s always happy with me."

He repeated the words like a mantra, praying they’d root somewhere solid. But his hands still trembled as he dried them off.

By the time he came to, he was already outside, wind nipping at his still-wet hair, breath fogging in the chilled afternoon air. He barely registered his own footsteps until—

A sudden pinch to his nose nearly robbed him of breath.

"The fuck—?" Isagi yelped, instincts flaring as he grabbed the offending hand, squeezing tight enough to bruise.

Another hand buried itself in his hair, gripping tightly — rough, familiar.

"Chill out, Yo." The voice, his voice, was smooth, unbothered, with the slightest teasing lilt. "Always so sensitive."

Isagi’s heart jolted. Navitsu. He came to him.

Isagi blinked up, chest flooding with relief so strong it almost ached. But he didn’t release Navitsu’s wrist, not yet. His fingers held tight, as if letting go meant waking up. "Where are we going?" Isagi asked, or more like breathed, voice softer than he intended. His legs already moved, following wherever Navitsu tugged.

Navitsu barely spared him a glance, his expression unreadable, like Isagi clinging to him was just routine now. "My gym," he shrugged. "Thought maybe I’d introduce you to my coach if he’s around."

Isagi nodded dumbly, allowing himself to be dragged.

The streets felt… different with Navitsu beside him. The usual noise of cars, the buzz of voices, even the blaring of a crosswalk sign, it all softened, like the world decided to hush itself for them. Buildings loomed tall, glass reflecting soft golden light from the sun beginning its descent. The air smelled faintly of fresh bread from a bakery they passed, laughter spilling from somewhere nearby.

Isagi doesn’t know if his vision becomes clearer with Navitsu around, or the opposite.

It was almost… peaceful. Isagi’s shoulders, tense for weeks, finally lowered. Navitsu’s warmth bled into him through their shared touch, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in what felt like forever.

Maybe this was it — maybe things were going back to normal.

Until… he felt it.

That sickening, cold prickle that started at the nape of his neck and slithered down his spine. Like icy fingers grazing over bare skin. Watching. Isagi faltered mid-step, breath catching. His head snapped up, eyes scanning the sea of strangers.

Nothing. Just people — faces blank with routine, carrying groceries, holding hands, laughing into their phones. Normal.

But it wasn’t. Because the stare lingered — sharp, invasive, wrong. Isagi’s grip unconsciously tightened on Navitsu’s arm until his knuckles paled.

"Yocchan?" Navitsu finally noticed, glancing down. "What’s up?"

Isagi swallowed hard, shaking his head. "Nothing. Thought I saw— it’s nothing."

But it wasn’t nothing. Because as they crossed the intersection, that feeling only grew, like eyes burrowing into his skull, like waiting jaws ready to snap shut the second he slipped. The sky above seemed to darkened, clouds swallowing the last of the sunlight. Shadows stretched long, wrapping around lamp posts and buildings like claws.

Isagi tried, God did he try, to focus on Navitsu’s voice, the way his lips moved, the sound of his laugh. But it was drowned out by the sound of his own pulse thundering in his ears.

The crowd felt like a trap now, a herd of bodies blurring together, too close, too many. Shoulders brushed his, someone’s bag hit his arm, but none of them felt like the source.

No, whoever it was, they weren’t just watching. They were hunting.

For him.

Isagi’s mouth went dry. He tried to breathe, to rationalize, maybe it was just stress, paranoia, leftover fear from the fight with Navitsu. But deep down, instinct screamed louder.

It was real. Someone was there.

And so, without thinking, Isagi moved closer, nearly pressing himself against Navitsu’s side like a lifeline. Navitsu blinked, brows furrowing. "Yo…?"

Isagi forced a shaky smile, voice breaking. "It’s just cold."

Navitsu stared at him, really stared, as if he saw through every crack in that flimsy lie. But for once, he didn’t call him out. Instead, his hand shifted, fingers lightly brushing against Isagi’s wrist, grounding him.

The rest of the walk blurred after that. Isagi didn’t remember what Navitsu said, or if he said anything at all. Every step was survival, every second spent waiting for something, someone, to lunge from the crowd.

But nothing came.

And yet… the feeling never left.

They finally arrived at the gym.

The place smelled of worn leather and faint antiseptic, heavy with the metallic tang of sweat and years of effort soaked into the mats. Fluorescent lights buzzed lazily above, casting a sterile glow over the boxing rings and lined-up heavy bags swaying slightly from a previous session. The walls were littered with framed photos of champions, faded newspaper clippings, and scuffed mirrors reflecting the dull glint of metal equipment.

Isagi trailed behind Navitsu, his shoulders tense but his face carefully neutral. The unease in his chest hadn’t fully dissipated, but Navitsu’s voice, casual and easy, forced him to focus.

"That’s where the pros usually train," Navitsu gestured toward the far end where a raised ring sat, ropes loose from years of wear. "Old place, but it’s home."

Isagi nodded along, eyes scanning the space, offering polite smiles when Navitsu greeted a few familiar faces. Some gave Isagi a nod of acknowledgment, but most returned to their training quickly, the rhythm of fists against pads filling the air.

Navitsu’s coach wasn’t around, which seemed to ease the pressure, letting Navitsu lead him through the rest of the gym in a quieter atmosphere. Isagi did his best to keep up, tossing out small comments here and there, laughing when Navitsu cracked a joke about how one of the guys still refused to tape his hands properly. 

Still, something clung to Isagi’s chest, but he buried it deep.

Eventually, Navitsu stopped, turning toward the center ring with a crooked grin. "Wanna let out some steam?" he asked, jerking his thumb toward it.

Isagi blinked before grinning back, a spark of excitement flaring in his chest. "Oh, absolutely."

The two climbed into the ring, the ropes creaking under their weight. Navitsu tossed Isagi a pair of gloves, old but well-maintained, and Isagi caught them with ease, the leather cool and stiff in his hands.

"You ever box before?" Navitsu teased, starting to wrap his own hands.

"Once," Isagi shrugged, sliding the gloves on. "Barou dragged me. Said I needed to 'bulk up.' But I don’t think I lasted five minutes."

Navitsu snorted. "Yeah, sounds about right."

The two faced off, no coach, no rules—just the two of them, surrounded by empty space and the distant sound of fists against pads.

Navitsu was patient, moving lightly on his feet as he threw slow punches, clearly testing Isagi’s reflexes. Isagi blocked awkwardly at first but found his rhythm quickly, his body responding faster than his mind could catch up. There was something freeing about it—about moving without thinking, about focusing on Navitsu and nothing else.

They exchanged light jabs, the sounds of their gloves connecting filling the air. Navitsu grinned every time Isagi landed a lucky hit, and Isagi found himself laughing, breathless but lighter than he’d felt in days.

Minutes bled into each other until sweat beaded along Isagi’s brow, his breath coming hard. Navitsu barely looked winded.

"You’re holding back," Isagi panted.

"Maybe," Navitsu grinned. "Don’t wanna break your pretty face."

Isagi huffed a laugh but then hesitated, his gaze lingering on Navitsu’s face. The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

"By the way, what happened yesterday?" Isagi asked, voice lower now, almost hesitant. "I don’t really remember how the night ended."

Navitsu paused. His glove lowered just slightly as he blinked at Isagi, a moment of surprise flashing through his eyes. He didn’t seem alarmed though, as if expecting this, "I… left you with Bachira and the others," Navitsu answered slowly, like he was double-checking his own memory. "You were laughing. Said you’d catch up later."

Isagi frowned, brows knitting together. "That’s weird. I don’t remember that."

There was a beat of silence between them, the faint sound of grunts and punches echoing from across the gym. Navitsu stared at him a moment longer before his eyes suddenly darted toward Isagi’s neck. His eyes now fully panicked, "what…?" Navitsu’s voice dropped, sharp now, a stark contrast from his earlier teasing.

Isagi flinched. "What?"

"Come here," Navitsu muttered, stepping in and tugging at the collar of Isagi’s shirt roughly, not bothering to hide his sudden aggressiveness.

"Oi—what are you—"

The feeling of skin touching his neck made Isagi gasp. Memories flooded his mind, yet he couldn’t figure it out.

He remembers a mouth hovering over his shoulder, sucking the skin on his neck. Isagi could almost hear himself moaning at the sensation, his back arching in response. He grabs the other’s shirt, not pushing or pulling, simply to grab onto something.

He hears the one on top of him groaning, his hands making sure not to touch him elsewhere, in some ironically respectful way. He made sure he only bites Isagi in one spot, as if trying to give Isagi some odd message. 

When his teeth leave Isagi’s neck, Isagi groans at the loss of heat, edging his face closer to the other. The man whispers to him. 

Navitsu’s fingers brushed lightly over Isagi’s skin, making the striker tense. "There’s… something here."

His voice was unreadable now. A low whisper, almost stunned.

"A bite mark."

Isagi froze. "What?"

Navitsu’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the faint bruise just above Isagi’s collarbone—faint, but unmistakable. A perfect imprint of teeth. It was also well hidden, like the person knew what he was doing. Not enough to alarm Isagi but enough to mark him.

"You don’t remember… this?" Navitsu asked carefully, his tone laced with something unreadable—anger, fear, disbelief.

Isagi’s heart plummeted. "No," he croaked.

Navitsu’s jaw clenched tightly. "Yoichi… Who the hell were you with after I left?"

"I—I don’t know," Isagi stammered, voice cracking.

The playful air between them shattered instantly. The gym, once filled with noise, felt suffocatingly silent. Isagi could only stare at Navitsu, his skin crawling at the weight of that question.

For the first time in a long while, he saw something in Navitsu’s eyes that made his chest ache. A flicker of protectiveness. And fear.

Navitsu shook his head slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. "Let’s finish here," he muttered. "We’re talking about this after." Isagi could only nod, swallowing the rising lump in his throat, his mind racing with a thousand questions he didn’t know how to answer.

His mind shifted to the sensation of eyes on him he felt earlier.

— — — — —

Friday 5:56 pm

Isagi_Yoichi: Bachira, this is important, can you call me?

Bachi🐝: yocchannnn  (,,> .<,,)!

im sorryyy i cant

did something happen

Isagi_Yoichi: I just want to know if you were with me last night.

Bachi🐝: yes! 

Isagi_Yoichi: Did you ever leave my side?

Bachi🐝: well you did get into an argument with kaiser so i had to go grab some water for you

sober you up and all that!

barou said so!

Isagi_Yoichi: Kaiser? 

Did you leave us alone…?

Bachi🐝: no! you guys were fighting with at the center of us hehe

it was fun 

ask chigiri ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Isagi_Yoichi: Who took me home?

Bachi🐝: im not sure

did something happen! 

Isagi_Yoichi: Don’t worry about it :D

Do you know anyone who could tell me what happened?

Bachi🐝: i dont think sooo

i was the most sober one out of them!

im sorry yocchan i gtg!! 

Isagi stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his pulse a dull roar in his ears. The bite mark—deep, slightly reddened—burned against his skin as if it had only just been made. He didn’t need to hide it; his shirt already did that. But that wasn’t the problem.

Someone had done this to him.

Someone had pressed close, their teeth sinking into his flesh, their breath on his skin—while he was too out of it to stop them.

His stomach twisted. His hands gripped the edges of the sink, knuckles whitening. His first instinct was to scrub it off. As if that would somehow erase the feeling of it, the sickening realization that he had no control over what happened to him last night. He grabbed a washcloth, turned the water on hot, and started rubbing at the mark with more force than necessary. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, it didn’t fade. The imprint of someone else’s teeth still lingered, still claimed him.

Disgust coiled in his throat.

Who did this to him? Who the hell thought they could put their mouth on him like that?

His mind spun in circles, but he couldn’t bring himself to push deeper into the memories. The moment he tried, all he got was static—blurry images, muffled sounds, a creeping feeling that he didn’t want to remember.

His breathing felt too loud in the empty bathroom. He squeezed his eyes shut. Don’t think about it. Just forget it. Forget it.

With shaky hands, he forced himself to go through the motions—shower, change, dry his hair. The bite still tingled under his shirt, a reminder he couldn’t ignore. Even as he crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, the violation of it clung to him.

His eyelids felt heavy. His thoughts wouldn’t settle.

And before sleep fully took him, he had one last fleeting realization.

It wasn’t just the bite. It was the fact that whoever did this… got away with it.

“Daarin.” 

A voice called to him. 

“Do you want to kill me now?”

Was it in his head? 

“How would you do it?”

The voice murmured, it was so gentle, so sweet. 

“You’re so special.”

Why couldn’t he wake up though? 

“I’ll make you see that.”

Why wasn’t the voice disappearing?

“My daarin…”

The next morning, he woke up unwell and very much not rested. At least his parents didn’t barge in like yesterday talking about a hangover. His eyes felt heavier than ever, and he just couldn’t understand why this had happened to him. 

Jesus, was his brain playing tricks on him to the point of going insane? Who the hell would even call him darling? Sounds borderline delusional.

Isagi went to the mirror to try to inspect his figure. He looked messy, especially upwards. He can see the dark circles under his eyes, they felt as heavy as they looked. But when he moved the collar of his shirt to inspect the mark, he had to pause. 

Realization hit him like a brick. 

‘Where is it?!’

He fumbled with his shirt, maybe it got stuck onto something while he slept? His desperation to find it made him take off his shirt, and yet he still couldn’t find it. 

“My necklace…” He mumbled, angry at himself for managing to lose the one thing that’s been keeping his mind at ease. Whilst it was just a piece of jewelry, its presence provided him with a sense of protection, as if Navitsu was truly around him at all times. 

The delicate silver necklace with a small charm attached—shaped like a heart, but engraved with an intricate design of a crow flying in the moonlight.

It had been an inside joke between them.

Back in primary school, there was always that crow. The one that perched outside their classroom window every morning, staring inside like it belonged there. It never made a sound, never moved much—just sat there, watching. Some kids thought it was creepy. The teachers tried to shoo it away. But it always came back.

Then one afternoon, during lunch, the crow got bolder.

Isagi and Navitsu had been sitting on the playground steps, tearing into their snacks, when the bird landed just a few feet away. It tilted its head, watching Isagi intently. Navitsu laughed, nudging him. “Yo, your little stalker’s here again.”

Isagi waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just a bird.”

That’s when it happened.

With a sharp flutter of wings, the crow darted forward, snatched Isagi’s granola bar straight from his fingers, and took off into the sky.

For a second, there was silence.

Then Navitsu burst out laughing, nearly choking on his food. “DID YOU SEE THAT? IT JUST ROBBED YOU!”

Isagi had been too stunned to respond, staring down at his now-empty hands. Meanwhile, Navitsu was doubled over, wheezing. “I swear to god, that thing is in love with you! Your boyfriend just stole your lunch!”

From that day on, the joke stuck. Anytime the crow reappeared, Navitsu would elbow Isagi, whispering, “Your boyfriend’s watching again.” And every time, without fail, the crow would seem to look right at him.

The story was one they never shared. It was theirs—just like the tiny silver necklace that carried that same memory in the form of a charm. A crow in the moonlight. Watching. Waiting. Just like before.

And now it’s gone.

And instead, another replaced it.

It was a golden one—with much more shine to it. It had four little hearts to it, but it was placed unusually upside down. Upon further inspection, Isagi realized that there looked to be small magnetisms between each heart. So—he started playing around with it, until it formed a little four-petal flower. 

It was beautiful. Gorgeous even.

But he can’t help but feel like it was far too feminine for him. 

He couldn’t wear this even if he wanted to—and he doesn’t. 

He wants the one Navitsu gave him. 

Plus, this was clearly real gold, people would think he stole this or something. So he took it off, and just in case he loses it, he’ll put it around his wrist. Less visible to the eye and safer for him to keep. 

Whatever. 

Whoever gave him that mark clearly gave him this, as a gift or warning, he just wasn’t sure who. 

He’ll make sure they give him the other necklace. Whether by force or not. 

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the bathroom door. His dad definitely wouldn’t be so polite, and his mom would’ve called his name instead. This was neither of them, and he knew exactly who it was.

Hurriedly, he opened the door, immediately looking up to meet eye to eye with Navitsu. 

“Hey.” Isagi swallowed the greeting.

He casually started, not sure why it felt so awkward today. Maybe it was due to the fact that yesterday Navitsu finally showed a new emotion to Isagi. At first Isagi thought Navitsu was angry at him, but the more he replayed the memory, he looked more concerned about him instead. The realization caused his gut to twist in the best way possible, and warmth found its way to his chest. 

The other didn’t say anything though, his eyes glued on his shoulder-neck. Isagi used this time to inspect his face. Oh, how he loved to stare and stare at him without consequences, but he knew Navitsu would catch him eventually. He saw how red his eyes looked, how his lips seemed to thin in thought. 

Others might think the sight looks pitiful. 

Not Isagi.

Not Yoichi. 

To him, this was the most beautiful he had ever seen Navitsu. Vulnerable. Raw. Real. A version of him that no one else had the privilege of witnessing. And Isagi wanted to keep it that way. He wanted Navitsu to break in front of him. To show him this side that no one else deserved to see.

“Yoichi…” Isagi felt Navitsu’s face getting closer by the second, he didn’t back away nor question it. In fact he felt himself inching closer. But to his surprise, Navirtsu buried himself in Isagi’s neck, his hands gripping onto Isagi’s shirt. Isagi looked down on the hands as he felt them shiver. 

They didn’t say anything else, so Isagi tried to pull Navitsu toward his bedroom, though it proved more difficult than expected with how tightly the blond clung to him. It wasn’t desperate, nor forceful—just firm, like Navitsu was afraid to let go. And once they crossed the threshold, Isagi let him do whatever he wanted.

Because he was curious.

Curious about why Navitsu was acting like this.

Curious about what was going through his head.

And maybe… just maybe… curious about how far this moment could go.

A strange numbness crawled over him, dulling everything else. The bite, his bite, was long forgotten. Even though he knew, deep down, that Navitsu was only behaving this way because of it. And in some twisted, unsettling way—

He wanted to thank the one who had given it to him.

For allowing Isagi to witness the love of his state in such a state.

Then, a barely audible whisper—broken, fragile—

“...m’s…rry…”

Isagi blinked. His gaze lowered to Navitsu’s head, still tucked firmly against his neck, his breath warm against his skin.

“Hm?”

Navitsu didn’t move, like he couldn’t bear to be seen right now. His fingers curled tighter into the fabric of Isagi’s shirt. “I’m sorry.” This time, the words came out clearer, steadier, but still carrying the weight of something suffocating.

Isagi’s expression didn’t waver. “Sorry for what?”

“I…” Navitsu swallowed the lump in his throat, “I left you after the party, I shoul—I should’ve kept you safe.” Slowly, finally, he pulled back, just enough for their eyes to meet. The warmth against Isagi’s skin faded, replaced by the cold dampness of his shirt where Navitsu had been resting.

And then, Isagi saw him. Really saw him.

Eyes redder than before. Heavy with guilt. Glassy, on the verge of spilling over.

He looked ruined.

And yet…

Isagi only stared, unmoving, his expression eerily neutral. As if none of this was happening. As if the sight of Navitsu coming apart in front of him didn’t stir something deep within him.

Something dark.

Something almost… satisfying.

He wondered—if he reached forward, if he cupped Navitsu’s face, if he pushed just a little harder—

Would he finally break?

But instead, as if snapping back to his senses, Isagi cupped Navitsu’s cheeks. His fingers, still slightly damp from the shower, pressed against feverish skin. Navitsu's breath hitched, and for the first time, his expression faltered. His eyes—so raw, so vulnerable—widened just slightly, almost uncertain, almost too trusting.

And Isagi hated how much he liked it.

Slowly, he pulled them closer, their noses brushing, breaths mingling. The anticipation coiled tight in his stomach, electric and intoxicating. And then, finally—he pressed their lips together.

Soft. Hesitant. Testing.

Surprisingly, Navitsu didn’t pull away. He didn’t even tense. Instead, he melted into it.

It was all the confirmation Isagi needed.

His fingers slid from Navitsu’s cheeks to the nape of his neck, tangling into damp strands of blond. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, tasting the hesitation still lingering on Navitsu’s lips. But there was something else too—something quiet and willing, something warm and open. And God, it fueled him.

He didn’t want something warm.

He wanted something burning.

His grip tightened, fingers curling into the collar of Navitsu’s shirt as he pulled. With barely any resistance, Navitsu followed, his body pressing against Isagi’s as they stumbled back. Their weight hit the bed, and Isagi let himself fall with it, dragging Navitsu down on top of him.

The moment they landed, the kiss turned hungry.

Navitsu, still braced over him, shuddered at the sudden shift. His hands instinctively pressed against the mattress on either side of Isagi’s head, but the hesitation was clear—like he was holding himself back, like he wasn’t sure if he should let go.

Isagi didn’t give him the chance to decide.

His hands roamed, trailing down Navitsu’s back, feeling the warmth seeping through his shirt, the tension coiled in his muscles. He wanted to tear it apart. He wanted to see what Navitsu would look like beneath him—messy, unguarded, ruined.

The thought sent a thrill down his spine.

And then Navitsu made a sound—something between a sigh and a gasp—as Isagi’s lips parted against his own, as their tongues barely brushed.

Heat exploded in Isagi’s chest.

Navitsu was reacting.

He was giving in.

Fuck. Fuck. He wanted more.

His nails dragged lightly along the curve of Navitsu’s waist, feeling him shiver in response. The sensation shot straight to Isagi’s head, dizzying, intoxicating. He deepened the kiss further, lips slotting together perfectly, hungrily, drinking in every stifled breath, every hesitant movement.

Navitsu wasn’t pushing him away.

No, he was leaning closer.

Tentative fingers brushed against Isagi’s jaw, shaky but present, like Navitsu was testing the waters—like he was realizing, maybe for the first time, that he wanted this too.

Isagi nearly groaned at the realization.

But just as he was about to take things further—Navitsu suddenly pulled back. Not far. Not away.

Just enough to break the kiss.

Their lips hovered inches apart, their breaths uneven, chests rising and falling in sync. Isagi's grip on Navitsu’s waist remained firm, but he didn’t pull him back in just yet. He watched.

Navitsu’s eyes were half-lidded, glazed over, dazed. His lips were swollen, his breath shallow. And Isagi could see it—the slight parting of his mouth, the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for him again.

But there was something else too.

Confusion.

Guilt.

Regret?

Isagi wasn’t sure.

And for some reason, that thrilled him.

So he tilted his head slightly, voice lower, rougher than before. “Why’d you stop?”

Navitsu blinked, like the question had physically pulled him back to reality. His throat bobbed, his gaze flickering to Isagi’s lips, then away—like he wasn’t sure how to answer.

Isagi felt his patience thinning.

He reached up, fingers brushing against Navitsu’s chin, tilting his face back toward him. He wanted his attention.

He wanted him to look.

And when Navitsu finally did, Isagi offered him a slow, lazy smirk.

“Don’t tell me you’re already regretting it.”

Silence.

Navitsu’s lips parted—whether to deny or confirm, Isagi didn’t know.

A loud knock shattered the moment, freezing them both in place.

The sound cut through Isagi’s haze like a blade, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in. It was like waking up from a dream, one he hadn’t even realized he was lost in. Heat rushed to his face so fast it was almost dizzying when he realized the position he was in, and how close he was to his supposed ‘friend’.

He was underneath Navitsu, whose legs were caging his own. It looked like Navi was doing the imprisonment, but in reality they both knew who was truly in charge, and that thought horrified Isagi. Their faces were also centimetres apart, making them breathe the same air, which deemed unnecessary due to the fact they couldn’t breath whilst kissing, or better yet making out.

His hands, which had just been gripping Navitsu, flew off like he’d been burned. Panic surged through him before he could even process what he was doing, his entire body tensing like a kid caught red-handed.

Navitsu, on the other hand, didn’t move. He stayed completely still, as if his brain hadn’t even caught up yet. His eyes remained locked on Isagi, pupils still blown, lips still slightly parted. Another knock, firmer this time.

“Yoichi,” his mother’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Why is the door locked?”

Isagi nearly choked on air.

Oh, fuck.

His stomach flipped, hands clenching against the mattress as sheer mortification took over. His mom was outside. Outside his room. After he had just—after they had just—

He shot up so fast that the mattress creaked, nearly sending Navitsu toppling over in the process. His breath was uneven, his limbs stiff with barely-contained panic. Navitsu finally blinked, as if he was just now registering the situation. He glanced between Isagi and the door, brows furrowing like he was trying to piece together what the hell was happening.

And then—he smiled.

Isagi saw it. And immediately smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” he hissed, glaring.

Navitsu let out a quiet snicker, rubbing the spot where Isagi hit him. “I didn’t even say anything.”

Another sharp knock. “Yoichi.”

Isagi flinched.

He shot out of bed, hastily smoothing down his shirt as he fumbled with the lock. The door creaked open, revealing his mother standing there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her gaze immediately flicked over his shoulder—to Navitsu, who, of course, looked completely unbothered now. He was still sitting on the bed, casually leaning against the pillows like he hadn’t just been about to devour Isagi whole.

She exhaled through her nose. “Lunch’s ready,” she said, before fixing Isagi with a pointed stare. His mother’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before she sighed. “Well, come eat before it gets cold.”

And just like that, she turned and left.

The second her footsteps faded down the hall, Isagi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He pressed his forehead against the door, shutting his eyes for a moment.

That was way too fucking close.

Behind him, Navitsu let out a low hum. “You think she knows?”

Isagi turned just enough to shoot him a glare. “If she did, I’d be dead right now.”

Navitsu snorted. “Fair point.”

Isagi groaned, rubbing his face. He needed a second to process everything—the way his pulse was still racing, the fact that he had almost just—He shook his head. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.

Instead, he took a deep breath, turning back toward Navitsu with a weak scowl. “Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s eat.” And without waiting for a response, he walked out, hoping—praying—that his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

It absolutely was.

— — — — —

Ness spends most of his time thinking of Kaiser.

And it never fails to help him understand him—maybe better than Kaiser understands himself.

So even before Kaiser could realize the changes his heart and mind are going through, Ness catches it, analyzes it, and tries to convey the message in a way that isn’t too obvious. He likes it when Kaiser gets that smug look on his face, like he’s a genius for figuring it out—whatever it was. 

And Ness likes to believe he could be an extension to Kaiser’s life.

That’s just how it always has been between them. 

Or at least, before Isagi Yoichi entered it.

He was a pest. A bug to crush. But ever since they saw Yoichi wearing that gloomy frown on his face, he felt something shift in Kaiser. At first he wasn’t sure what, but he kept noticing how Kaiser would somewhat get lost in thought. Like he couldn’t escape his own mind.

All because Yoichi wasn’t paying him any mind.

It began like that; Yoichi walked out of the locker room, presumingly to that stupid interview where he had to brag about whatever useless thing he managed to achieve. Ness and Kaiser saw him whilst walking to the cafeteria. 

"Aw, look at that—our little Yoichi is finally getting his moment in the spotlight. Thinks he’s a real star now, doesn’t he?" Kaiser drawled, his voice dripping with mock amusement. "Bet he actually believes this is his grand ascent to greatness. Cute." He heard Kaiser snicker next to him and couldn’t help but smile in turn, nodding obediently.

He was sure, absolutely, no doubt, that Yoichi was close enough to hear him, and loud enough for the near tables to hear as well. But to their absolute shock, Yoichi walked past Kaiser, indifference painted on his face. 

While it didn’t seem like a big deal to Ness, he noticed how Kaiser stayed rooted to the ground, his head turning to where Yoichi was heading, making sure not to miss a single step the other was taking. The subtle change made Ness also stop by the wall to look at Kaiser’s eyes.

They seemed emptier than usual—almost dull. In a way, his eyes were always so colorful, so blue, so beautiful. But they always lacked the touch of liveliness. Not now though, it was like Yoichi personally killed his dog. It didn’t have hatred, nor any bite to it.

It was just that—dead.

But with a single shine to it.

The moment Yoichi took a turn and disappeared, that shine disappeared with him.

It was fast, but Ness caught it. 

It made him short-circuit, even after Kaiser turned on his heel and entered the cafeteria where the rest of the players were at. But even after that, Ness chose to ignore what he had seen, and to focus on what’s in front of him—Kaiser.

After that, Ness noticed how Kaiser stopped talking about or to Yoichi, but he would always catch him stealing glances at him, not even glances, sometimes he would full-on stare at the boy. 

Stare at what empty face Yoichi was making that was equivalent to Kaiser’s eyes. 

While he heard the others discussing how odd Yoichi was acting, he thought the most impacted from it wasn’t them—it was Kaiser. How he would mirror the saddened look without even realizing it.

It was pretty obvious, he wanted to know what he was thinking, or what led the little bug to looking like this. 

It became worse after he got the offer from Re Al, Ness almost jumped from happiness when he read what that board said, as if he was going there and not Kaiser. But his striker wasn’t even surprised, let alone excited. 

Instead, he was staring at Yoichi—who wore an expression Ness knew all too well. His eyes held that quiet, breathless astonishment, the kind that came from witnessing something unexpectedly mesmerizing. His lips had parted just slightly, caught somewhere between thought and revelation, like a man who had just stumbled upon a hidden masterpiece. It wasn’t just admiration—it was the raw, unfiltered moment before desire takes shape.

Like someone seeing color for the first time and not knowing what to do with it.

And Kaiser seemed drawn to it. Not like he’d say anything, but Ness recognized the shine from before that seemed to light brighter than ever. His eyes looked alive. Unlike ever before. Even with that unamused look on his face.

That’s why Ness knew him better than he did himself. Because he got to see this scene up close and personal.

That look wasn’t of a man who wanted to destroy something.

It was the look of a man who wanted to own it.

And then there was the time he allowed Yoichi to punch him.

Just what the hell was that about?! He genuinely thought Yoichi was gonna die right there. 

But no. 

He let him do as he pleased, but the second he had enough he knocked him out with a single punch. It was pretty funny, everyone there either laughed at Yoichi or got in Kaiser's face to tell him off, but that didn’t end that well for them. Yukimiya, for example, was pushed aside rather harshly when he asked Kaiser to back off.

Kaiser didn’t let anyone tell him what to do. But I guess Yoichi was a special case so he got to go as far as to hit Kaiser.

It made no damn sense.

Last night was the last straw for Ness.

The group had gotten far too intoxicated, messy, loud, and already making choices that reeked of next-morning regret. He was never one to indulge in these types of nights. It wasn’t the alcohol or the noise that got to him, it was the people, their chaos, and lack of restraint. He felt like a parent in a room full of delinquents.

Shidou, as per usual, had been the one to kick off the downfall by shouting out a suggestion to play “Never Have I Ever.” The idea was juvenile, loud, and the perfect excuse to turn dumb thoughts into reckless actions. No one questioned it. They were too far gone, too high off the freedom of youth and liquor.

Ness, however, didn’t drink. He never intended to. The only reason he even stayed was to keep an eye on Kaiser.

And thank God he did. Because judging by the way Kaiser had been nursing his third—no, fourth glass—Ness knew he would’ve gone overboard if he hadn’t intercepted him under the pretense of getting him a better drink.

He could stomach everything else. The noise, the slurred voices, the obnoxious cheers. What he couldn’t handle was the way Kaiser kept looking at Yoichi.

With those damn eyes.

Eyes that, no matter how often Kaiser turned away, always found their way back to him. It wasn’t the casual glance someone gives when they're zoning out. No. It was full-on, locked-in, possessive. 

And it only got worse as the game dragged on.

Yoichi, despite entering the night with that signature scowl, had relaxed. A few drinks in, a few jokes down, and suddenly he was melting into the floor. There was a lazy softness to him now, the kind that only emerged when he let himself breathe. His head fell onto Bachira’s shoulder as if it was instinct, his smile stretching lazily across his face like he had no concept of tension left in his body.

Ness hated it.

Hated how natural it looked.

Worse, he hated how delighted Bachira seemed to be, the way his arms circled around Yoichi’s shoulders like they belonged there, like they weren’t playing with fire. Ness wanted to shake him, tell him he was fanning a flame he didn’t understand.

Kaiser wasn’t amused either. He kept lobbing sarcastic jabs at Shidou or Barou, letting his venom loose on anyone but the person actually bothering him. They almost returned his kind words by almost throwing a chair at him. Thankfully they were held back by Chigiri and Nanase (who didn’t try hard enough as it was clear they wanted Kaiser gone). However, whenever his eyes drifted towards Yoichi, his smirk would fall and his eyes would turn sharp, but he’d immediately look elsewhere, his face remaining neutral before going back to making fun of the others.

But it wasn’t until Yukimiya decided to slide in next to Yoichi, opposite Bachira, that everything started unraveling.

It began innocently enough. A simple question about their rankings, about what they planned to do next. Harmless. Boring.

Then Yukimiya mentioned Navitsu, and that set Kaiser off.

“I still don’t get how you forgave that guy after he almost made you lose the PxG match,” Yukimiya muttered, swirling his drink like it offended him. “If Hiori did that to you, I swear you would’ve murdered him.”

Isagi tilted his head, eyebrows drawn together like a confused puppy. “No way. What does that mean?”

Yukimiya chuckled, but it was bitter. “I’m saying you’re too soft when it comes to him. If it were anyone else, they’d be toast.”

Isagi pondered for a while, weighing down his head. Had it been Hiori, as Yukimiya suggested, would he really be pissed off? The answer was yes. He couldn’t imagine not being able to play the last match that secures his future in Blue Lock, so why was Navitsu let off so easily? He’d always known he had a soft spot for his friend, but to what extent? If he were to get locked off because something like that happened again, would he even be mad? 

Isagi’s breath hitched. No way. Does his love for Navitsu go beyond his love for football? The thought almost makes Isagi laugh out loud from the absurdity of it all. 

“Yukimiya is speaking from experience,” he heard Chigiri giggle as he sat down near them prior to his spot next to Reo on the sofa. 

Raichi scoffed, loud and shameless. “Remember when you also did it and Isagi tweaked out the entire game? We were still at team Z and he wasn’t even that egotistical.”

“You make me sound like some kind of villain,” Isagi protested, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that dramatic.”

“Oh yeah?” Aiku grinned slyly from across the room, eyes glinting. “So what if it was Kaiser who hit you? What then?”

Everyone turned to see how Isagi would respond. But Isagi didn’t say anything, not right away. He turned towards Kaiser. And just like that, for the first time in what felt like ages, their eyes met.

But Kaiser’s expression didn’t so much as flinch, instead he kept it narrowed and empty whilst he stared intensely at Yoichi. Ness saw the look he was giving. It wasn’t one of his usual expressions. It was filled with absolute anger and hate, it wasn’t too strong as to alarm the others, but Ness saw right through him. He just didn’t understand where it was coming from. It certainly didn’t seem directed at Yoichi, and still, Kaiser just wouldn’t look any other way. 

It was the kind of stare a predator gives when it’s still deciding whether to pounce or wait for a better opportunity.

“I guess…” Isagi finally said, voice quieter than before, “I would’ve been livid.”

Kaiser’s lips twitched up into something that might’ve resembled a smile, but Ness saw the truth in it. His mouth smiled. His eyes didn’t.

They were hollow. Not unreadable—no, that would be a mercy. They were the kind of empty that hinted at something far worse churning beneath the surface. A silent storm building without warning.

And Ness had seen it before, this version of Kaiser. But only once.

It was when someone tried to outshine him during their debut match in Germany. The boy had dribbled past Kaiser once—just once—and dared to smirk as he did. The next fifteen minutes were a performance Ness could only describe as cruel. Kaiser didn’t just outplay him. He dismantled him. Broke his rhythm. Broke his pride. Left him humiliated in front of everyone, including the scouts.

That same look was in Kaiser’s eyes now.

Isagi turned away, missing it all. He sipped from his glass like nothing happened, laughing again when Bachira slurred something incoherent and half-collapsed onto his shoulder. The others had moved on, already diving into another ridiculous round—more drinks, more yelling, someone trying to start a fight with Barou again.

The tension in the room had shifted, gone from playful to something far more dangerous. The heavy stench of alcohol mixed with the thick silence that hung in the air. The clinking of glasses had long stopped, replaced by soft murmurs and an undercurrent of unease. Ness, still leaning back in his chair, tried to look relaxed, but the growing discomfort was unmistakable. Kaiser’s words weren’t just cutting through the air—they were slicing right into something deeper.

Kaiser’s gaze never wavered from Isagi. It was unnerving. He didn’t need to say a word to make his presence known. The way he observed Isagi, the quiet, calculating intensity, was like a predator circling its prey. Every shift in Isagi’s expression, every flicker of his eyes, seemed to feed into Kaiser’s fixation. It was all so subtle, but for Ness, it felt like watching a ticking time bomb. He could sense it. Kaiser was slipping.

He felt his heart skip a beat when Kaiser finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate. It wasn’t for anyone else to hear, not even the group. No, it was a whisper—a promise veiled as a statement. The words wrapped themselves around Ness like a tight knot in his stomach, refusing to let go.

“Still such a good little toy. Clings to whoever plays nice.”

Ness’ eyes narrowed, confusion flashing across his face. The words didn’t make sense at first. What was Kaiser saying? His mind worked furiously, trying to unravel the meaning, but it didn’t fit—because it wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t the sort of cutting remark Kaiser usually tossed around with ease. No. This was something different. A faint trace of fascination twisted into something darker, something far more obsessive. It was an undercurrent of possession, of wanting to control, of feeling entitled to something.

For a moment, Ness froze. His spine stiffened, and his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back the overwhelming wave of emotion that rose in him. He couldn’t afford to let it show. Not now, not when he could feel Kaiser’s eyes on him, still studying him as if he was part of the same puzzle. He quickly turned his face away, hiding the surge of discomfort from both Kaiser and the others.

But that moment of realization, that brief flash of understanding, was enough. Ness knew, without a doubt, that he had stumbled upon something much darker than he had ever imagined. Isagi wasn’t just another victim to Kaiser. Kaiser wasn’t driven by hatred alone. No, it was more complicated. 

Kaiser had fallen for Isagi.

The realization felt ridiculous, absurd even. How could he even entertain such a thought? Kaiser had always been so cold, so distant, so obsessed with victory. But now… now it all made sense. The stares, the way Kaiser watched him like a hawk, the sudden shifts in his mood when Isagi was around. It wasn’t just about defeating him anymore. It was about wanting him—desiring him in a way that twisted everything.

Ness leaned back, his fingers tapping absently against his glass, his mind still racing. He couldn’t process it all at once. It was too much. But the idea that Kaiser wanted Isagi, not just as a rival but as something more, gnawed at him, unsettling him in ways he wasn’t prepared for. Was this what had been driving Kaiser’s erratic behavior? The obsession with making Isagi crumble? Was this how it had always been? How deep did this go?

The sharp sound of the next round of drinks being set on the table pulled him from his thoughts. He barely registered the conversation around him as Shidou launched into the next round of “Never Have I Ever,” his voice loud and obnoxious as usual. But Ness wasn’t listening. His eyes were locked on Kaiser, whose attention was now fully focused on Isagi.

And this time, Isagi noticed.

“What?” Isagi snapped, his voice cutting through the din like a knife. The sudden shift in his tone surprised everyone. It wasn’t loud, but it was tense, taut with something more than just confusion. There was a crack in his usual calm, and it was only getting bigger. Kaiser’s smirk remained in place, though there was something darker behind his lazy smile, something calculated and sharp.

“Nothing,” Kaiser replied, his voice smooth, a teasing lilt to it. “Just trying to understand why you of all people suddenly act like a bitch in heat whenever you see that good for nothing.”

Isagi blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was a mix of irritation and disbelief. His eyes flicked toward the others as if expecting them to offer some explanation, but instead, they looked just as bewildered. It was a rare moment where the group seemed truly unsure of what was happening. Kaiser, meanwhile, remained eerily calm, a predator that had already locked onto its target.

“Navitsu,” Kaiser said, rolling the name off his tongue like it was something distasteful, something foul. His eyes flashed with an emotion that made Isagi’s blood run cold, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. “You talk about him like he’s the second coming of football. Maybe next time he punches you, you’ll be on his bed—moaning and whimpering.”

The room went silent for a heartbeat. Everyone looked at Kaiser like he had just grown two heads. Isagi’s eyes widened in shock, his confusion deepening into something else, something darker, almost like a flash of jealousy. He hadn’t expected that. Not from Kaiser. Not here. But what really struck him wasn’t just Kaiser’s words, it was the way he said them. There was something far more personal in the way he twisted the name. Something dangerous. And Isagi didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Barou, ever the realist, groaned from the corner, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Here we fucking go,” he muttered, glancing over at Bachira. “Oi. He’s gonna say something he regrets. Go get your idiot boyfriend some water or something.”

Bachira blinked, still half-lounging on Isagi’s shoulder, but he knew Barou wasn’t messing around. With a sigh, Bachira reluctantly slid up and ruffled Isagi’s hair, trying to offer a distraction. “I got it, I got it. Don’t explode, Yocchan, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Isagi barely registered his words. His focus was entirely on Kaiser now. His mind was swirling. Navitsu. Kaiser. Was this some kind of sick joke? Why did it feel like there was something else underneath Kaiser’s words, something… intimate? He felt a knot form in his stomach. Why had Kaiser suddenly targeted Navitsu, of all people?

Shidou, clearly noticing the tension, couldn’t resist pushing further. “Pffft,” he snickered, his voice dripping with mockery. “Why wouldn’t he be? Have you seen that guy’s biceps? I would do the honors before Isagi.”

The laughter that followed was half-hearted, but the tension in the room only thickened. Isagi’s face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, his chest tight with the jealousy he tried to suppress. He hated that Shidou’s words had hit him so hard. He hated how they felt like they were coming from some dark corner of his own mind.

But Kaiser—Kaiser was looking at him, too. Not with the same playful disregard as Shidou, but with something much sharper, much more dangerous. Isagi’s eyes narrowed, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he glared at Kaiser, who returned his gaze without flinching. The silence between them crackled with something unspoken. A challenge.

“Shidou-san…” Nanase mumbled under his breath, clearly embarrassed by his teammate's lack of filter.

But Shidou wasn’t finished. He winked at Isagi, a teasing smirk on his lips. “I’m just sayin’, I get you.” He laughed, but the sound only made Isagi feel more on edge, his jealousy seething.

Before Isagi could react, Bachira appeared at the perfect moment. He grabbed a glass of water from the table and threw it over Isagi’s head, dousing him in cold water. It was enough to jolt him back into reality. The shock of the water snapped his attention away from the simmering tension with Kaiser, but it didn’t stop the heat rising in his chest.

Barou immediately started yelling at Bachira. “Bachira?” Isagi questioned, his confusion still thick as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

Bachira, grinning mischievously, simply pointed at Barou. “He told me to do it!”

“NO THE FUCK I DIDN’T?!”

“Yes, you did!”

Isagi, still soaked, could only blink in disbelief. The momentary chaos in the room helped to diffuse the building tension, but the weight of Kaiser’s words, and the strange flicker of something possessive in his eyes, lingered.

“Never have I e—” Nagi started, but Reo quickly cut him off.

“Nagi. Read the room, please.”

As Barou moved to grab Bachira, the latter ducked behind Isagi, seeking refuge as if he were the shield in this mess of a night. Isagi’s heart was still racing, but now, it wasn’t just the jealousy he was fighting. It was the uneasy feeling that something was shifting in the group. Something darker.

This is chapter 8

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, <- 8 -> 9

[marvojpr]

im running out of gifs if you havent noticed

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 7 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 7:

Day three of the break

— 

A dark, deep red was casted on the hall room, creating gloomy, chaotic shadows across the ceiling. He could see a few tables–enough to be noticeable but not so much to be cramped altogether. At the center of it all, was a white screen, emitting a soft chalky light.

Isagi felt just as he did the same day he met Ego; unprepared and confused. He adapted though. He always does. This wasn’t any different, but still there was a sting in his chest telling him to stay on guard. 

He gave himself one last push before entering, a bile started forming in his throat, but before he could register the people who were already there, sitting in their respectful tables, trying to catch any familiar eye, a lady called out to him.

“Isagi Yoichi,” she began, and though it was meant to be a question, he felt a familiarity in her voice. “Please, take this.” She handed him a piece of paper that only had the number ‘one’ written on it in Japanese. “It’s the number to your table.” She pointed towards a corner of the room, “there it is.”

Isagi politely bowed and thanked her before moving to where she had pointed previously. You’d think a corner table would be secluded and rather abandoned, but the more Isagi observed the other tables, the more he noticed that they were more or less the same, if not better. 

He saw a few friends from across the hall and waved at them, unsure if heading their way was a good idea in the first place, so he just stuck to sitting in his own stand. Thankfully he wasn’t alone.

“Hey Nagi. Been a while, no?” He greeted his friend who was uncouthly resting his head in his arms on the table. And to be completely fair, it was odd seeing Nagi here early, he’s the type to be late to his own birthday party. 

The other hummed at him, his eyes fluttering open, “I guess,” he mumbled, now eyeing Isagi, who felt uncomfortable under his eyes which seemed so full of something Isagi couldn’t put his finger on. 

“I saw your rankings during NEL, how come you fell off?” Isagi tried to start a conversation, unsure of what to say, so he just said the first thing that came to his mind. Nagi wasn’t even top ten until his last match. Even with international teams, many Blue Lock members adapted pretty fast and managed to hold their weight. All except Nagi. 

Nagi continued looking at him with the same empty eyes. Isagi would’ve felt guilty, if he wasn’t right. Seriously, this guy used to be the most talented one of the bunch, a real potential. But that’s all he is now—potential. Isagi would be lying if he said he wasn’t deeply disappointed, he shouldn’t be, because that’s one more rival that he managed to outplay.

Still, he wished Nagi would be interesting enough again to crush him. Crushing him now would be very pitiful. 

“You can’t be talking.” Isagi was so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed Nagi was now sitting upright, his eyes narrowed just enough for Isagi to know he pushed on a sensitive topic. “Didn’t your plays become so shitty they had to bench you?” While his words were heavy, he knew it wasn’t meant to be a jab—Isagi knew Nagi well enough to understand that. Still, the comment stung. 

But still, Isagi was now also offended. Seriously, he only asked him because he was worried for him, and here he was, trying to make him out to be some hypocrite. “Oh please,” Isagi crossed his arms in his seat, his eyes more narrow than Nagi’s, “you would’ve been benched long ago had there been someone else to replace you with.”

“You’re saying this like you didn’t almost cost your team the game, twice”

“You did cost your team the game, though.”

Isagi shot him a glare, just to make it clear that Nagi had no right to criticize him when he wasn’t even a viable rival anymore.

“Cut it out, you two.” Both turned to see Barou approaching, dressed sharply in a formal suit, his hair slicked back. He pulled out a chair beside Isagi and sat down, eyes fixed on Nagi. “You realize he’s just being an ass ‘cause he wants a reaction out of you, right? Probably Reo’s idea. That copycat.” Isagi sighed, rubbing his temple. 

Nagi, of course, had already dropped his head back onto the table, completely unbothered. “You could’ve just stayed quiet,” Isagi muttered under his breath before reaching over to pinch Nagi’s ear. The white-haired boy grunted, swatting at Isagi lazily, but there was a hint of amusement in his side glance.

“Anyway,” Barou said, adjusting his cufflinks. He leaned back in his seat, exhaling sharply. “This whole thing feels like a damn waste of time. If Ego wanted us here, he should’ve just said what he wanted from the start.”

Isagi tapped his fingers against the table. “Yeah, but when has Ego ever been straightforward?”

Nagi hummed, lifting his head just enough to look at Barou. “Bet you’re just mad ‘cause you had to wear a suit.”

Barou shot him a glare. “Tch. Unlike you slobs, I actually know how to dress for an occasion.”

Isagi chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t rather be in your training gear.” Truth be told, he felt the same way. He already missed the ease of movement, the comfort of his jersey, the familiar weight of his cleats.

Barou scoffed but didn’t deny it, which only made Isagi chuckle more. “All I’m saying is, if this isn’t about the next stage of Blue Lock, then I’m walking the hell out.”

“Doubt you’d get far,” Isagi mused. “Ego probably locked the doors.”

“Tch. I’d break them down.”

Nagi snorted, clearly entertained by the idea. “Bet that’d be fun to watch.” He lazily lifted two strands of hair atop his head, mimicking horns. “Like a bull.”

Isagi barely held back a laugh, choking on his own saliva instead, somewhere between amusement and disbelief. He saw Barou grab Nagi by the collar, spitting insults that Nagi barely reacted to, more entertained than offended. Isagi wiped a tear from his eye, watching them bicker. The sight was so reminiscent of second selection that something warm curled in his chest—a feeling he thought had long since dulled.

Honestly, those two might become the reason his passion for football resurfaces again. 

The thought made him pause, making his laughter slowly die down. 

Had he really lost his spark for football? 

His mind couldn’t help but shift to Navitsu. Why did he start playing? It was long before Navitsu came into his life. So why did the mere thought of not having him there make him feel unmoored, like he couldn’t find his footing?

A sharp ache settled behind his temples. He reached up, fingers gripping his hair harshly, desperate to untangle the mess in his head. It felt like he was missing a piece to the puzzle—something crucial—but the harder he tried to grasp it, the further it slipped away.

“Isagi.”

A firm hand settled on his shoulder. He looked up to see Barou, a frown etched on his face, frustration and something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

“Hm?” Isagi rasped, his voice a little weaker than he intended.

Barou studied him for a moment longer before settling back in his seat, but his attention never fully wavered. Even Nagi, who usually feigned indifference to everything outside his immediate interests, was subtly stealing glances at him.

“Seriously?” A sharp, unmistakably dry voice cut through the air. “This is who I’m stuck with?”

Rin Itoshi stood before them, expression unreadable but eyes laced with something close to disdain. He took the empty seat at the table without so much as waiting for an invitation.

“I understand that everyone has assigned seats,” Isagi started, trying to break the silence, “but what could we be hearing that requires being with specific people?” His mind started thinking of Ego, wondering if that was his idea, or just what the committee agreed upon.

No one answered. The question hung in the air, ignored. Typical. It made Isagi mentally exhausted.

Isagi let out a quiet sigh, scanning the other tables instead. ‘Am I really stuck with this bunch for the night? I wish Chigiri or Bachira were here. At least they’d try to ease the tension with me.’ His gaze drifted across the room. All the chairs were now occupied, the room buzzing with energy. A few tables away, he spotted Bachira, who seemed far too entertained. That should’ve made Isagi envious, but when he saw who was at the table with him, he immediately reevaluated his sympathy.

Shidou, Yukimiya, Nanase, and Ness.

What a chaotic mix.

Isagi watched for a moment longer, noticing the tension in their body language. Whatever conversation they were having, it was anything but peaceful.

Then, across the room, he saw him.

Navitsu.

His breath hitched, the world around him blurring for a moment. His chest tightened, warmth spreading up his neck, creeping into his face. Navitsu’s hair was styled just as it always was when he had to visit his parents, neat but still unmistakably his. The suit he wore was borrowed, yet he made it look effortlessly elegant. Every detail, from the way his sleeves rested perfectly against his wrists to the quiet confidence in his posture, was mesmerizing.

He looked absolutely stunning.

Isagi felt like he was staring for hours, caught in the pull of something he couldn’t quite name, until Navitsu turned—as if sensing his gaze. Their eyes met. A slow, familiar smile curled onto Navitsu’s lips, warm and knowing. He lifted a hand in a casual wave.

Isagi barely registered his own response, his arm moving before his brain could catch up. His wave was awkward, his face burning, his heart pounding embarrassingly loud in his chest. Then, another hand rose beside Navitsu’s, mirroring his wave. Isagi blinked, realizing with mild amusement that Chigiri was sitting beside him. He waved back at the redhead before tearing his gaze away, forcing himself to check who else was seated at the table.

Chigiri, of course. Along with Kunigami, Raichi, and Aiku.

At least Chigiri was surrounded by familiar faces.

Isagi let his eyes wander to the closer tables, curiosity outweighing the lingering warmth in his chest.

Reo, Hiori, Kiyora, Kurona, and Kaiser.

Basically, Bastard München plus Reo. An even stranger group, considering none of them got along besides Hiori and Kurona. But what caught Isagi’s attention the most was the dynamic at play—Hiori seemed fully engaged in conversation with Reo and Kaiser, while Kurona and Kiyora were practically cozying up to each other.

That was unexpected. But hey, who was he to judge? They were teammates, after all.

Then, another table.

Niko, Karasu, Otoya, Sendou, and… Sae.

Isagi wasn’t even sure how to describe the sight. The first four seemed deep in conversation, their expressions serious, while Sae, true to his nature, sat slightly apart, scrolling through his phone. Still, there was something about his posture that made it clear he wasn’t as disinterested as he pretended to be.

The room was full of mismatched pieces, fragments of old rivalries and unspoken connections. 

Isagi had no idea what this night had in store, but one thing was certain.

Ego had something planned.

And Isagi wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

Suddenly, the red lights went out, the only source of light being the big screen.

A figure could be seen standing in front of it. Blocking the center of it with his shadow. Isagi immediately recognized the inhumane frame. The scene gave him deja vu, almost nostalgic to the day he first joined Blue Lock. 

"Hello, diamonds in the rough." Ego began his announcement, his hands in his pockets. Isagi noticed his expression was more annoyed than usual. "Welcome, you brain-dead strikers. If you’re sitting here, it means you’ve survived by sheer luck, desperation, or maybe—just maybe—actual talent."

They all grimaced at that, thinking they should at least be given credit for having made it this far. A few of them exchanged looks—some offended, others unimpressed. Barou scoffed under his breath, arms crossed like he was resisting the urge to walk out. Chigiri exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Reo muttered something under his breath, looking like he wanted to argue.

"But let’s get one thing straight: survival isn’t enough. Blue Lock isn’t some daycare for failed prodigies. It’s a forge. A place where weak metal gets melted down and only the sharpest blades remain." His eyes narrowed at the players. "If you think you’ve ‘made it’ just because you’re here, then congratulations—you’re already irrelevant."

A low murmur rippled through the room. Nagi blinked, looking more exhausted than anything, while Kunigami clenched his jaw at the implication. Some of the younger players swallowed hard. Isagi noticed how Bachira, sitting across from him, grinned at Ego’s words, his eyes glinting with anticipation rather than fear.

Ego stopped for a second, scanning the room as if sizing them up. Isagi was sure the way he looked at them hadn’t changed, as if he still saw them as the same unpolished potential.

"Tch. What a bunch of clueless strikers."

Barou’s eye twitched at that, but he didn’t respond. Some, like Otoya and Karasu, simply leaned back in their chairs, their expressions unreadable. Others stiffened, waiting for what came next.

"Judging by your vacant stares, I assume your tiny little brains still haven’t pieced together why you’re here. Let me make it simple enough that even the dumbest among you can understand. This so-called ‘event’ is nothing more than a spectacle. A grand stage crafted by the JFA to flaunt its ‘rising stars,’ to fatten its pockets, and to entertain the sheep who worship football without understanding a damn thing about it. That’s what they want you to believe. That’s what they expect you to be—a collection of pretty faces to plaster on posters, pawns to be shuffled around in their game of profit and prestige."

Isagi caught Rin’s jaw tightening at that. He had firsthand experience with the world of sponsorships and business-driven football, and it was clear the words hit a nerve.

"But if you think for one second that I, Jinpachi Ego, am some obedient little servant playing along with their fantasy, then you’re even stupider than I thought. This is Blue Lock. And in Blue Lock, nothing is meaningless. This event? This ‘fan service’? It’s just another battlefield."

Isagi could feel the energy in the room shifting. Some were still skeptical, but others were starting to lean in—sensing there was something more behind Ego’s words. Yukimiya adjusted his sunglasses, his lips curving into a small smirk.

"A proving ground. A test to see who among you is worthy of taking the next step. And trust me, those who fail to see the truth behind this farce will find themselves discarded faster than they can blink."

Kurona and Hiori shared a quick glance, both of them clearly deep in thought. 

"You are not here to dance like trained monkeys for a paycheck. You are here to evolve. So go ahead. Smile for the cameras. Shake hands, sign autographs, and play the role they’ve given you. But remember this—when the time comes, when the real battle begins, only those who can turn this joke of an event into an opportunity will survive. The rest of you? You’ll be nothing more than corpses on the roadside, left behind like the worthless extras you are."

A heavy silence followed. No one was making a sound, but the weight of his words hung in the air. Some looked fired up. Some looked doubtful. Some, like Isagi, were already thinking a few steps ahead.

"Now… prove to me you’re not just another set of disposable faces."

And with that, Ego turned on his heel and walked off, leaving the room steeped in a heavy silence.

The weight of his words lingered, sinking into their minds like cold iron. No one spoke. Some, like Isagi, were already processing the implications, piecing together the real purpose behind this event. Others sat motionless, the tension thick between them.

‘Adapt, or be discarded. That’s your only choice.’

The message was clear.

After what felt like an eternity, the overhead lights flickered back on—brighter than before, almost uncomfortably so. The room was no longer shrouded in Ego’s shadow; instead, it was lit up like a stage, as if signaling the arrival of an entirely different kind of performance.

Isagi’s eyes narrowed as a group of unfamiliar men strode onto the stage, their polished shoes clicking against the floor with rehearsed confidence. They carried themselves like they belonged here, but their presence felt out of place, artificial. They didn’t seem fazed by whatever Ego had just said—either they simply didn’t care, or they hadn’t heard it.

His gut told him it was the latter.

His thoughts drifted back to what Ego had said about the JFA. These were the kinds of people who had been pestering him, interfering, trying to shape Blue Lock into something else. Isagi wasn’t sure of their exact intentions, but one thing was certain—if Ego was against them, then so was he.

Because unlike them, Ego only cared about football. Not money. Not reputation. Just football and its future in Japan. And if these men weren’t aligned with him, that meant they were up to no good.

At the center of the group, a man—mid-thirties if Isagi had to guess—adjusted the cuffs of his expensive suit, exuding the kind of charisma meant for cameras. His eyes flickered across the room, searching, calculating. Almost on cue, a wave of photographers and media personnel flooded in, their flashing cameras making Isagi tense for a split second.

He felt the attention on him, the lenses turning his way, but forced himself to ignore them. Still, the sudden scrutiny made him a little self-conscious.

A quick glance at the others helped ease that feeling.

Barou remained unfazed, his arms crossed, exuding the same unshakable arrogance he always did, while Nagi simply yawned, uninterested. 

Seeing their indifference made it easier for Isagi to push away his own discomfort.

Then, the man in the suit finally stepped forward, raising a microphone to his lips. The chatter died down, heads turning toward him.

"Welcome, everyone." 

The man’s voice was smooth, practiced—too polished, like he had given a thousand speeches just like this one. He adjusted his tie, smiling like he was already expecting applause. But in the crowd of Blue Lock’s strikers, there was nothing but silence and wary stares.

"It is truly an honor to stand before the future of Japanese football. Each and every one of you represents the pinnacle of talent, determination, and raw potential. Your journey through Blue Lock has been nothing short of extraordinary, and now, the world is watching."

The words rang hollow to Isagi. They were the kind of empty praises he’d heard before—lines that sounded grand but meant nothing. It reminded him of the corporate nonsense Reo used to brush off like it was second nature.

Speaking of Reo, he barely reacted. He leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger against his armrest, his expression unreadable. Maybe he had heard speeches like this too many times before.

"This event is not just a celebration of your skills but a crucial step in your careers. You will be introduced to sponsors, scouts, club representatives—people who can turn your dreams into reality. It is an opportunity that very few players in the world receive."

"Hah," Barou scoffed under his breath. "If you need ‘opportunities’ handed to you, you’re already a lost cause."

Kunigami folded his arms but said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on the man. Chigiri, on the other hand, had his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly uncomfortable with how this was being framed.

Isagi exhaled, not bothering to respond to Barou. Fake was the right word. These people didn’t understand football. Not like Ego did. Not like they did.

The man continued, oblivious to their reactions.

"Japan’s football scene is evolving, and we are here to guide that evolution. The JFA has worked tirelessly to secure your futures, to bring you into the spotlight, to ensure that the world recognizes you for the stars you are meant to be."

At that, Nagi finally spoke, rubbing his neck. "Sounds like they want us to be trophies, not players."

Yukimiya smirked. "Trophies sell. Players don’t."

Isagi clenched his fists under the table. He didn’t like this. None of them did.

The man on stage spread his arms in a grand gesture, the cameras flashing as if this was some grand announcement.

"This event is not a test. It is a reward. A moment to reflect on your success, to enjoy the fruits of your labor. You have earned the right to stand here today. And together, we will shape the future of Japanese football."

The room remained still.

Ego’s words from earlier rang in Isagi’s head.

‘A proving ground. A test to see who among you is worthy of taking the next step.’

A reward? No. This wasn’t a reward. It was a trap. A test disguised as something harmless.

And the real game was about to begin.

A different man approaches, taking over the other’s previous space. “We will began explaining what’s meant to happen today, but for now let’s allow the sponsors and scouts to sit at their respectful places” 

Said sponsors were now being shown the way to their tables, some already taking notes while others chose to keep an eye on the closer Blue Lock tables. 

“Now then,” the man continued, “each sponsor will choose to sit with who they wish to interview.  You’ll each receive an offer from said club and a week from now you’ll begin to train under them.” He looked at his colleague before continuing, “obviously, this is meant to introduce you to more options than the ones Ego offered and once your time in Blue Lock is over you can play in official games.”

Murmurs started flowing in. Players turned to look at each other suspiciously.

“I thought only one can survive Blue Lock?”

“Was Ego lying to us all along?”

“It was pretty obvious. Especially when Kunigami came back.”

The host tried to calm them down but it seemed futile at the end.

“Please, everyone.” He tried, “Ego will explain everything when the time comes. It is not our place to do so.”

Isagi heard Barou tsk beside him in annoyance.

Soon enough, each sponsor started speaking to one another, discussing who would interview who first. It didn’t interest any of the Blue Lock members as they turned their attention to where Ego was last seen.

“What a hassle…” Nagi mumbled, choosing to go back to sleep. Considering Barou would’ve hit him for his manners by now but didn’t, he probably agreed with him.

Isagi sighed, “which club are you hoping to get?” He asked the table, making them finally turn to answer him.

“Anywhere away from you.” They said in union. 

“Go fuck yourselves.”

“Just tell us where you go so we can avoid it.” Nagi snarked at the sprout head, though completely serious about staying away.

Isagi’s eyes lingered on Nagi for a second before replying, “I’m pretty sure I already mentioned that.” He felt a certain pair of turquoise eyes turn to him, “Re Al.” 

“Bet.”

“Don’t act like they’d even give you an offer after seeing your performance.” Isagi smirked at him, not bothering with him anymore. Thankfully this was Nagi and not Barou. Because whilst Barou would’ve ripped his throat through his mouth, Nagi was more of a trash-talk kind of guy. “So? Who will you choose then?”

“DIdn’t think about it.”

“That checks,” Barou ridiculed, unimpressed with his indifference. He turned to Rin’s usual solemn face, “what about you, Itoshi? Will you be joining Isagi and your brother?” He asked, purely out of curiosity, yet not so in a friendly manner.

Rin glared at him at the mention of his brother who sat mere tabled away. His face spoke volumes, and yet he chose not to answer him. But his silence gave them the answer they needed. Out of those three, Isagi would say he preferred conversing with Barou, and today just goes to show why. 

“Anyways,” Isagi began, his eyes now fully on Barou, “why don’t you stay with Ubers?” 

“Insect,” he called him, making Isagi’s face turn poker for a second, unimpressed by the name calling. “Every team I go to would be blessed to have me. Doesn’t matter which one I go to.”

“That checks.” Isagi mocked him, reminding him of his previous remark on Nagi.

Before Barou could fire back, a man decided to join them, sitting on the only empty table available. 

“Hello,” he greeted, “I’m a sponsor from FC Barcha.”

They all nodded at him, gesturing to him to continue.

“The way this goes is that I’m here to tell you what you’ll gain if you join us, and then we’ll set up an interview with you where you tell us what you have to offer instead.”

They went quiet, clearly taking this seriously.

“Barcha is commonly known for its possession-based philosophy, where they nurture technical and intelligent players who rely on a more creative approach. Their key to win is to possess the ball throughout the entirety of the game, maintaining control through one-touch passes.” He paused, looking at the others to try to decipher the look on their impassive faces. He sighed at that, going back to his explanation. “What we want is a player who is technical, intelligent, and agile.”

Isagi leaned back, processing which players he knew would benefit most from the team. The team is clearly unparalleled in terms of technicality. Which is why it was so fitting for Bachira, who reveled in creative and freestyle plays. 

His eyes unconsciously moved to where Nagi sat, unfazed by what was being said.

“Excuse me,” he almost raised his hand, feeling like he did back in elementary school, “can we recommend a player? Or are they the only ones responsible for their decision?” 

The sponsor hummed in thought, not expecting the question, “while I am not against it, I’m not sure about the others,” he pointed towards the other tables, who seemed to be much more engaged with the other sponsors than they have been. “Why? Do you have someone in mind?”

Isagi nodded, not wanting to put Nagi on the spot. Then again, when did he even care if he was or not? Maybe it can open his eyes for once, and focus more on his own talents without the use of Reo in his life. But knowing Reo and his skills that match Nagi’s perfectly, they’d still end up in the same team.

That can’t happen for both of their sakes.

“Nagi,” Isagi called, “isn’t Barcha more fitting to your playstyle?”

He looked up at him, but didn’t answer. If Isagi was correct, he was probably thinking it through. Hopefully he would see why Isagi thought so. 

“Moving swiftly on,” the sponsor coughed, “I’m done here, here is how you can contact us. We’d be happy to work with the Blue Lock program and see how far you go.” He smiled at them, but only Isagi returned it politely while the other stared at him, waiting for him to leave. He got up and went on his way, scribbling notes here and there.

Rin let out a frustrated groan, “we have to go through how much more of this?”

“Till everyone is situated,” Isagi replied.

Everyone, including Isagi, groaned loudly, they wanted nothing more than for the night to end as soon as possible.

…

“This is never gonna end.” Isagi deadpanned. 

Even Nagi looked more agitated than usual. 

“Shut up,” Barou glared, his anger clearly not directed at Isagi. “The sooner they finish talking, the sooner we leave.”

Isagi groaned at that and drank from his glass with an unhealthy speed, “what’s the point of me being here? I know I’m staying in Re Al!”

“STOP MENTIONING RE AL, ASSHOLE!” Rin threw a fork at him. 

— — — — —

Yukimiya had the unfortunate luck of arriving at the same time as Ness. 

Look, look.

Ness wasn’t a bad guy. Not in Yukimiya’s eyes. Unlike Isagi and some others—maybe even himself when they’re on the field—he only really saw him as a respectable, which is still debatable, player on his team. Just don’t ask Yukimiya when they’re playing. He’d rather not call Ness a lapdog again. Otherwise, he always tries to get away from conflict that doesn’t involve him directly. 

It made me think back to when he saw that PxG player punch Isagi. 

Everything happened so fast he barely registered pulling Isagi off of him. He just remembered wanting the guy gone. And while he and Isagi aren’t exactly friends, he was still worried about him. Later that night he thought it was most likely his dislike for Navitsu or just annoyed Isagi would be benched again. 

Don’t ask him about this either, it would only make matters worse. 

Isagi and Ness. 

Even Kaiser. 

He can’t say he hated them, he just would rather not interact with them as much. 

But he didn’t understand why players from other teams had such resentment for Ness. 

“Nessie,” a familiar sing-song voice cut through his thoughts. Bachira appeared out of nowhere, and Yukimiya nearly jumped from the sudden shift in the air. “Is Kaiser having an epiphany about Yocchan?”  

Yukimiya almost slapped his own head from how stupid that sounded, “maybe be less direct?” He looked at the buzzing bee in annoyance. It was obvious to everyone around what Bachira and his little group were planning. Basically involving themselves in what doesn’t concern them. He thanked god they didn’t ask him. But if this is the approach they’re going for, they won’t get far. 

Bachira just blinked at him, wide-eyed. “How else would you even ask?” He shrugged, leaning forward until he was practically nose-to-nose with Ness. “So? What’s the game plan, you two?”  

Yukimiya had to give Ness some points for managing to remain calm without snapping at Bachira, but the grip on his drink gave it away. “Nothing.” He simply said, not wanting to continue the conversation. 

“I don’t think it’s nothing.” Suddenly Bachira’s face went serious, but it was for a second, “tell that shitty clown to stay away from Isagi.”

Ness’s face didn’t change, in fact, he seemed to be thinking about it. Yukimiya thought this was the end of it, until Ness turned to look at the ground with a small hiss, “tell Isagi to stay away then.”

“And why can’t Kaiser do the honors?”

“Because,” Ness’s face turned more angry by the second, “he just can’t.”

Yukimiya’s ears piqued at that, but he still didn’t show it, choosing to remain as a spectator instead. 

For some reason, Bachira didn’t push on the subject anymore, making Yukimiya even more irritated. Why start something you won’t even finish?! Now he has to remain in the dark without knowing what Ness meant, thanks a lot Bachira.

Moments later Nanase joined them, clearly feeling out of place but still tried his best to be as nice as possible, if the giddy smile he wore was any indicator. 

“Is that everyone?” Yukimiya asked, almost directly to Nanase yet welcoming any answer. 

“I’m not sure,” Nanase sighed, “most tables are either empty or—“

Suddenly some commotion seemed to take place, everyone turned to face Barou and Nagi who seemed to be in some sort of headlock. Seeing them in suits was already funny as is. 

Yukimiya and Nanase giggled, Nanase more loud than the other, who was suddenly feeling a surge of energy upon seeing more familiar faces across the room. Ness wasn’t paying them any mind, but what caught Yukimiya’s attention was the fact that Bachira remained silent.

He seemed to be staring at the scene, but obviously wasn’t amused. Yukimiya tried to look beyond the scene to see if something’s wrong, and then he finally managed to get a glimpse of it—Isagi. He let out a frustrated sigh, of course it was about him again, when is it not? But his eyes lingered regardless of his unburied jealousy, Bachira’s concern didn’t appear so senseless now. Isagi seemed genuinely out of it, as if it was a  dissociation of some kind. 

He didn’t look particularly sad—or gloomy, just pure emptiness. 

For the last two weeks he noticed how different Isagi started to get. Whether it was something as simple as not sitting with them when they ate, and choosing to sit with Bachira, or straight up skipping practice. 

He can’t say he cared much, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t find it strange. Isagi always seemed so sure of him. Like he had a wall of affirmation of each word he said and believed in it wholeheartedly, but it seems as though that wall had shuttered, breaking him too in the process. It was so obvious when he saw how Isagi stared at Navitsu even after he was punched mere seconds ago that that wall was Navitsu himself. He didn’t let himself dwell on it too much. 

But he allowed himself to hate Navitsu. 

“You noticed too, huh?” Bachira questioned him with a serious tone, but a small smile that was obviously too fake to be his. 

Yukimiya didn’t answer, instead he just nodded and turned to see Shidou heading over to their table. Shidou’s arrival was impossible to miss. He kicked a chair back and sprawled into it like he owned the place, that shit-eating grin plastered across his face.  

“Yo, what’s this? A little pity party?” Shidou grinned, plopping himself down into the seat beside Nanase like he belonged there. He didn’t even bother looking at Ness, like he wasn’t worth the attention. His golden eyes were locked on Bachira, who chose to keep staring at Isagi’s now normal figure, “you’re too serious, freak. Loosen up, huh?”  

Bachira, though—he laughed. Loud. Cruel. “freak?” He leaned forward on his elbows, eyes flashing. “Nah. If anyone’s a freak, it’s you, Shidou. All bark, no brain.” 

That got Shidou’s attention. His grin twitched, amused but sharp. “Big words for a weirdo with no spine. What’s wrong, Bachira? You finally grow teeth or just borrowing Isagi’s while he’s busy sulking?”  

Bachira’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nah. I just don’t like the way you stink up the room, that’s all. Smells like desperation and cheap cologne.” Nanase let out a strangled cough, eyes darting between them like he expected someone to throw the first punch.  

Shidou barked a laugh. “Desperation? Me?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, staring Bachira down. “You’re the one babysitting the leftovers. What—too scared to check on your precious Isagi? Or are you scared of what you’ll find?”  

Bachira’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t need to check on him. Unlike you, I don’t sniff around waiting for scraps.”  

Yukimiya blinked. That was… harsher than he expected. Bachira was usually the type to poke and tease—but this? This had a bite to it.  

Everyone seemed too preoccupied with the two, either intrigued or scared they’d be kicked out if something did happen, they didn’t even notice the poor sponsor who’s been sitting with them for the past five minutes.

“Quit it for the love of god.” 

“Hn, nuh uh!” While sticking out his tongue at Yukimiya, Bachira kept making weird faces at Shidou who in return was about to break something and shove the broken glass down Bachira’s throat. 

“This is going great, you guys.” Nanase sweated at the plausible trenton. 

The Ars sponsor almost grabbed his things and walked out, but something told him it was best to try to understand this team dynamic more. There has to be a reason Ego put them together, unless the reason was to be a pain in his ass. Knowing Ego, it was probably the latter. 

He turned towards the only quiet one of the bunch—Ness. 

Which came as a surprise considering he was almost always seen as proactive in the matches. Either in a positive or negative light. 

Anyways… he just wanted to stay alive for the night.

The next table over was less tense, less suffocating, but not without its awkward weight. This was because of the new face with them, rather than animosity like the previous table. It was filled with players who, on any other day, might not have chosen to sit together. Yet tonight, under the buzz of crystal chandeliers and the quiet clink of silverware, they were forced into the same circle.

Navitsu sat upright, shoulders squared, dark eyes tracing the rim of the untouched glass in front of him. The suit they’d thrown him into looked good on him—tailored clean lines, charcoal grey with a subtle sheen. If not for the faint scar peeking from his jawline and the slight bruising on his knuckles, he could’ve passed for a bodyguard for the building instead of a player.

Across from him, Raichi was already nursing a drink, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. “Tch,” he clicked his tongue, eyeing the room. “Whole damn event’s a joke.”

Aiku, relaxed as ever, swirled his wine glass lazily, gaze trailing the crowd. “You’re not wrong. Half of ‘em probably don’t even know why they’re here.”

“Do you?” Raichi bit back.

“No.”

“Then shut up, old man.”

Kunigami stayed silent, posture stiff, eyes distant. He looked uncomfortable in the formal wear, the broad set of his shoulders making the suit too tight around his arms. He hadn’t said a word since sitting down.

Chigiri, on the other hand, sat composed, elbow resting against the table, hand cupping his chin as his crimson gaze subtly drifted toward Navitsu. There wasn’t hostility in his eyes—no sharp edge, no judgment—just curiosity, like he was turning over a puzzle piece in his mind.

“I heard you’re a boxer.” Chigiri’s voice broke the lull—smooth, almost casual. He didn’t smile, but his tone lacked the ice it usually carried. “Is that what the rumors are?”

Navitsu’s gaze snapped up, a flicker of surprise there before it was smothered. “Yeah.” He didn’t offer more. The word was simple, even-keeled.

Raichi snorted, leaning forward, “What the hell’s a boxer doing here? You lose your way to the ring or somethin’?”

Navitsu didn’t flinch. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”

“Bullshit,” Raichi barked a laugh, but there wasn’t heat behind it. “You punch Isagi and suddenly you’re sitting with us? Can’t tell if that’s guts or just dumb luck.”

“I didn’t punch him on purpose.” Navitsu’s tone stayed steady, unbothered. “Not that it matters now.”

Aiku hummed lazily, tilting his head toward Navitsu, dark hair falling across his brow. “Doesn’t sound like you’re gonna apologize, either.”

Navitsu’s jaw flexed, but he shook his head once. “Why would I? Wasn’t personal. Shit happens in the heat of a match.” He turned to where Isagi was sitting and saw him already looking at him, he seemed to be in some sort of daze, and Navitsu didn’t know how he could help him get out of it. So he just waved, unsure if it was the right decision considering Isagi’s face was even redder than ever now. “Besides,” he began, still looking at Isagi’s stupid awkward smile, “it’s between us.”

That… surprised Chigiri. Not because he expected an apology—but because of how grounded Navitsu sounded. There was no flailing for approval, no weak attempt to soften the blow. Just honesty. Refreshing, in a way.

Kunigami let out a quiet breath—almost a scoff, but not quite. If he had something to say, it died in his throat.

Chigiri’s eyes stayed on Navitsu. “You and Isagi… you two know each other?” His voice was quieter now, almost testing.

Navitsu didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Childhood friends.” He glanced away, somewhere distant. “Used to train together until he chose soccer. I stuck with boxing.”

“And now you’re here.” Chigiri tapped his finger against his glass, a thoughtful sound. “Feels like there’s a story there.”

Navitsu shrugged, but there was a weight in the motion. “Maybe. Not really one I’m planning to tell.”

Raichi grinned, leaning back. “Oho? Got secrets already, huh?”

“Don’t we all?” Aiku muttered with a lazy smirk, eyes still on his swirling wine.

Chigiri didn’t press—not yet. But he watched the way Navitsu’s eyes flicked toward Isagi across the room again. That quiet glance wasn’t filled with anger or regret. If anything, it was protective. Maybe even longing. Chigiri filed it away.

“You don’t seem like a bad guy,” Chigiri finally said, voice lighter now, though his gaze stayed sharp. “Isagi’s not the type to hang around just anyone.”

Navitsu smiled faintly, though it barely touched his eyes. “You don’t know him like I do.”

Chigiri’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk. “No. But I’m trying.”

That earned a glance from Navitsu, something unreadable in his dark eyes—something Chigiri couldn’t quite pin down. It wasn’t anger or defensiveness, but rather a flicker of surprise that quickly dulled into a blank stare. Still, Chigiri caught it. He pressed on, keeping his voice steady. “Whatever’s going on with him lately,” Chigiri continued, tone quieter this time, “I don’t think it’s just because of us. Feels bigger. And I’d rather understand it than sit around and watch him burn out.”

Navitsu didn’t respond right away. His brows pulled together slightly, lips parting as if to say something, but no sound came out. For a second, his face shifted into something almost… hurt. Finally, voice softer, he asked, “What does that mean?”

“Hm?” Chigiri blinked, caught off guard. “What are you confused about?”

“Isagi,” Navitsu clarified, his tone careful but strained. “You said something is going on with him. What does that mean?”

“Haven’t you seen him sulking everywhere?” Raichi scoffed loudly, leaning back in his chair with a huff. “Guess you’re not as close as you say you are.”

The words hit harder than they should have. Navitsu’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t spare Raichi a glance—like acknowledging him would make it worse. Instead, his dark eyes stayed rooted on Chigiri, silent but expectant.

Chigiri held his gaze a beat longer before sighing, hand running lazily through his crimson strands. “Isagi’s been off, that’s all. More quiet, less active. Barely shows up to practice, and when he does, he’s not really there, y’know? Like his head’s somewhere else. Doesn’t talk to anyone unless he has to. Not even Bachira, and that’s saying something.” He tapped a finger against his chin, thoughtful. “Also, he’s more private than usual. Like… There's a wall now. No one really knows what’s going on in that head of his.”

Navitsu sat still, absorbing every word like a gut punch he hadn’t expected. That didn’t sound like the Yoichi he knew. The same Yoichi who used to ramble about his stupid dreams and goals until Navitsu had to physically shove him to shut him up. The Yoichi who would text him late at night just to vent about a bad match or send him random videos that made him laugh.

And yet… Now that he thought about it, it had been a while since any of that happened. Lately, Isagi had seemed fine around him. Normal, even. But was that because he was pretending? Smiling in front of Navitsu because he didn’t want to be a burden? Because he didn’t trust him with whatever was going on?

That quiet, lingering thought sat heavy on Navitsu’s chest. The idea that Isagi had been suffering, and he—his oldest friend—hadn’t even noticed. Worse, Isagi didn’t want him to notice.

A brief silence fell over the table, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt… steady. Like they’d reached some unspoken agreement. No accusations. No hostility. Just… understanding. Or the start of it, at least.

Kunigami shifted, finally speaking—low, gruff. “Just don’t screw him over.”

Navitsu met his gaze without flinching. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Raichi whistled low, “Damn, wildcard Kunigami spoke. Must be serious.”

Aiku chuckled, leaning back lazily. “Look at us, bonding.”

Chigiri’s gaze lingered on Navitsu for a moment longer before he leaned back, relaxing against his chair. “We’ll see.”

The conversation drifted then—Raichi complaining about the food, Aiku throwing in dry commentary, Kunigami sinking back into his silence—but the tension never returned. 

— — — — —

The event hall was lavish—too grand for anything Blue Lock-related. The chandeliers glittered like a thousand mocking eyes overhead, their glow reflecting in the crystal glasses scattered across tables draped in pristine white linen. Conversations hummed around the room, low and calculated, carrying an air of forced politeness that made Reo’s skin crawl. This wasn’t a celebration; it was a battlefield dressed up in gold and glass.

It was so very Ego.

Reo exhaled, resisting the urge to run a hand through his hair. The seating arrangement was just as deliberate as everything else about this event—everyone placed carefully like pieces on a chessboard. And here he was, sitting across from the one person he’d been meaning to get answers from.

Kaiser lounged in his chair as if the room belonged to him, posture draped over the furniture with the ease of a man who had nothing to prove. The chandelier’s glow turned his blond hair into molten gold, and for a fleeting second, Reo thought the bastard didn’t look like a soccer player at all. He looked like an aristocrat at a masquerade, waiting for the entertainment to begin.

Typical.

To his right, Hiori sat quietly, scanning the room with an unreadable expression, the faintest furrow in his brow betraying his thoughts. On his left, Kurona and Kiyora were in their own hushed conversation. It wasn’t obvious, but Reo noticed things—like the way Kiyora leaned in slightly when Kurona spoke, or how Kurona’s lips tugged into a rare half-smile at something Kiyora muttered. Their interactions weren’t loud, weren’t flushed with meaning, but there was something natural there. Comfortable.

Still, Reo’s focus was on the bigger problem.

“So.” His voice cut through the pleasant hum of background noise, shattering the temporary peace at the table. “What the hell did you do to Isagi?”

The shift was immediate. Hiori turned, Kurona and Kiyora’s conversation halted, and Kaiser—well, Kaiser didn’t even blink. Instead, he smirked like he’d been waiting for it. “Straight to the point, huh?” Kaiser drawled, rolling his glass between his fingers. “You Mikage types are usually more... diplomatic.”

Reo’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “Yeah, well, watching Isagi turn into a ghost of himself doesn’t exactly put me in a diplomatic mood.”

Kaiser took a slow sip from his glass, then exhaled like Reo had just told him something amusing. “You’re blaming me?”

“I’m asking,” Reo corrected, voice dipping lower. “Because someone’s in his head. And you’re always around him like a damn shadow.”

For a moment, no one spoke. The air tightened between them, thick with something unspoken, but Kaiser only chuckled, setting his drink down with a soft clink.

“Funny thing about Isagi,” he mused, tapping a finger against the rim of his glass. “He’s got this little habit of breaking himself before anyone else can.”

Kaiser leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, that sharp grin never fading. “You ever think it’s not me? Maybe your little ace is just finally realizing he can’t outrun the pressure.”

Reo studied him, searching for the lie—but Kaiser was too good. His words dripped from his tongue like silk, slick and hard to pin down, and it pissed him off. “And what,” Reo murmured, fingers drumming against the table, “do you get out of it, huh? Watching him fall apart?”

Kaiser shrugged, looking almost bored. “Maybe I just enjoy the view.”

Reo’s grip on his chair tightened, but before he could snap, someone muttered under their breath—

“Asshole, asshole,” Kurona grumbled.

It was quiet, but not quiet enough.

Kiyora shot Kurona a glance, a flicker of something between warning and amusement passing between them. A moment later, Kiyora nudged him under the table, the subtle movement almost going unnoticed. 

Reo exhaled sharply, forcing himself to ease back. He couldn’t lose it here—not now. 

“Isagi needs to decide if he’s going to survive this or not.”

The words came out so smoothly that, for a second, Reo almost missed the weight in them. Hiori, however, didn’t. His gaze flicked up, expression unreadable. “You talk like this is life or death.”

Kaiser’s eyes met his, that sharp blue glinting under the golden lights. “For people like us? It is.”

Silence settled over the table, cold and suffocating. Kurona glanced at Kiyora, lips pressed thin, while Kiyora only gave the faintest shrug—as if to say he’s not wrong.

Reo hated that they were right. Hated that it made sense. Isagi had been running himself into the ground for weeks, pushing and pushing until something had to give. But why? What was he chasing? What was pushing him?

And why did Reo feel like Kaiser knew the answer?

“So, what’s your endgame?” Reo’s voice was quieter now, but no less dangerous. “If Isagi breaks... What then? You win?”

Kaiser’s smirk deepened, slow and cruel. “There’s no winning or losing, Mikage. There’s just whoever’s left standing at the end.” He leaned back, gaze drifting lazily over the room. “And it won’t be your little princess.”

Reo’s nails bit into his palm.

“Is that what you really think?” Kurona’s voice came, sharper than usual. “You think you’ll be the last one standing?”

Kaiser’s grin widened. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Kiyora scoffed, a quiet tch under his breath. “That confidence is disgusting.”

“You love it,” Kaiser teased.

Kiyora’s expression twisted into something between a grimace and a smirk. “Try again.”

Kurona’s gaze lingered on Kiyora for a second too long, something unreadable in his expression, but he said nothing.

Reo sat back, tension coiled tight in his chest. This wasn’t going the way he wanted—but maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand. Kaiser wasn’t breaking Isagi. Isagi was breaking himself—and Kaiser was just standing there, watching, waiting, reflecting all of it back at him.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t part of the problem.

Reo clenched his fists beneath the table. “Keep your distance from him,” he muttered. “Or I swear, if this gets worse—”

Kaiser laughed. “Oh, you think you scare me, Reo?” His teeth flashed in a grin, bright and taunting. “You’re cute.”

Reo’s fist twitched, but he forced himself still. Not now.

Across the table, Hiori caught his gaze, giving him a small nod—wordless support. Kurona and Kiyora, too, were listening now, their postures more attentive, the atmosphere shifting just enough to remind Reo he wasn’t alone in this.

He didn’t smile. But it helped.

“Let’s just see who’s left standing, then,” Reo muttered, rising to his feet. “I’m not betting on you.”

Kaiser’s smirk didn’t falter.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, Reo wondered if Isagi could really survive this—if any of them could.

— — — — —

Otoya leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “What if this whole thing’s a simulation... and Ego’s just some loser playing us like a gacha game?”

Karasu snorted. “Bro, he’d definitely have us on the lowest pull rate.”

Niko didn’t even blink. “I hope you glitch and die.”

Otoya grinned lazily. “You’d miss me.”

Niko deadpanned, “Like a tumor.”

— — — — — 

The evening dragged on, hours slipping by with the smooth glide of social niceties and polished smiles. The event was reaching its apex, each sponsor was now talking to Ego one by one, sharing what they found out, what they discovered about his not-so-dear players. He barely acknowledged them, but Isagi knew he was listening. Not allowing any information to slip his fingers.

The chandeliers above shone, casting golden reflections on the polished floors, their light flickering slightly with the rhythm of the evening. But for Isagi, there was only the cool numbness, the distance between him and the world, growing ever wider. He had found himself drawn to the edges of the room again, somewhere out of sight but still within reach of the group. 

Why was this happening right now? It was like seeing his friends made him feel a lot of weight fall down only to be slammed into him yet again. 

The murmurs of conversation around him faded, replaced by the occasional laughter, the clink of silverware, and the hum of the ambient music. As people began to wrap up their small talk, it was clear that the night was drawing to a close. A final round of champagne was poured, the last sips shared between the usual suspects, and Ego’s voice soon cut through the air, his charisma filling the room as it always did.

“Everyone, if I could have your attention, please,” Ego’s voice rang out, not loud but commanding, as he stood on a raised platform at the far end of the room. The sharp, well-tailored suit he wore gleamed under the lighting, his smile cutting through the air like a blade. “I trust you’ve enjoyed yourselves. But before you leave, I have a final announcement that will set the stage for what’s to come. The next phase of Blue Lock is on the horizon, and the competition will take on a new form, one that will separate the weak from the strong even further. But more on that later. For now, rest, recover, and prepare yourselves.”

A wave of murmurs passed through the crowd, but no one dared to question Ego’s words. The man was a force—untouchable, immovable. A puppet master pulling strings, carefully orchestrating each moment to his liking. Isagi’s gaze drifted from the crowd to the stage, his eyes blank as he processed Ego’s announcement, or rather, the promise of more to come. He felt a flicker of something, but it was fleeting—too much pressure, too much chaos, and too many forces at play for him to keep up with anymore.

He turned away, letting his gaze sweep over the room again, his eyes locking briefly with Sae’s. Sae’s face was unreadable, his usual composed expression hiding whatever thoughts churned beneath the surface. Sae had been a quiet, persistent presence, watching, calculating, waiting. Just like Isagi had been, trying to figure out what the hell was happening to him.

As the crowd began to disperse, heading toward the doors or lingering by the bar, Isagi felt the weight of the night settle deeper into his bones. The noise, the faces, the endless chatter—it felt like a thousand invisible threads wrapping around him, pulling him into a place he didn’t want to be.

That was when he saw it—Navitsu, standing near the exit doors, his figure half-hidden in the shadow of a pillar. His presence had always been strong, solid like the foundation of a building, and now, in the quiet lull of the night, his stance seemed more purposeful than ever. He wasn’t engaged in any conversation, no fleeting glances exchanged with others. His attention was focused solely on Isagi.

For a moment, Isagi hesitated. His feet felt heavy as if they were frozen to the floor. But then, with a single, barely perceptible movement, Navitsu’s hand rose, a subtle gesture that sliced through the tension like a quiet command.

It was nothing more than a slight motion—a flick of his fingers toward the door. But it was enough.

Isagi’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in that gesture, something both simple and loaded with unspoken meaning. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a demand. It was just an invitation. An invitation to step out of the crowd, to step out of the suffocating weight of the room, and follow him.

The sight of Navitsu’s quiet determination, his gaze unwavering, settled something deep within Isagi. He didn’t need words to understand what Navitsu was offering. He wasn’t asking him to speak, to explain himself. He was just offering a way out. An escape from the madness that had been swirling around Isagi all night.

He understood him.

Saw right through him.

Isagi found himself walking toward Navitsu, his steps slow but sure, like a person waking from a dream they hadn’t realized they were in. The noise of the hall faded into the background, leaving only the rhythmic beat of his heart and the quiet thrum of his thoughts.

As he neared Navitsu, he didn’t feel the usual weight of all the things he hadn’t said, of all the confusion and frustration that had built up over the last weeks. There was something about Navitsu’s presence, something grounded and steady that made everything feel just a little bit more manageable. Just a little bit more real.

— — — — — 

The final announcement from Ego still lingered in the air as the event slowly began to wind down. The room was filled with quiet chatter, a mixture of relief, curiosity, and, for some, the subtle buzz of annoyance. A few members stood, stretching their limbs or gathering their thoughts. Some looked relieved the night was over, while others were still caught up in the weight of what was said.

“Anyone else ready to get out of here?” Raichi’s voice cut through the air, his tone rough but tinged with something close to impatience. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not sticking around for some awkward after-party.”

Nagi, leaning against the wall near the entrance, seemed eager to leave, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. “Just don’t expect me to do anything stupid.” His voice was as indifferent as ever, but there was a glint of something less dismissive in his eyes. Maybe it was the reminder that tonight had been all about showmanship—something he didn’t particularly care for.

Yukimiya, ever the charismatic one, gave a short laugh, flicking his hair back with a casual ease. “You guys think we’ll find any decent places to go? Or are we just grabbing whatever’s close?”

“Who cares?” Barou’s voice was sharp, his posture radiating his usual air of superiority. He stood near the edge of the room, arms crossed over his chest. “Just pick a place with enough space to stretch out and get a drink. I’m not in the mood to mingle with a bunch of losers.” His words didn’t seem directed at anyone specific, but the intent was clear enough.

Karasu, who had been watching the conversation unfold from a quiet distance, snorted under his breath. “That’s one way to say it.” He shot a glance at Barou, his usually calm demeanor cracking into something a little more playful. “But I’m with you on the space. Too many people in one place and it’s just... noisy.”

Otoya, standing nearby, raised a hand lazily as though they were all waiting for permission. “If I’m drinking tonight, I’m going to need some quality options. Can we just avoid the trashy places? Not feeling like drinking in a dive bar.”

“Good call,” Raichi said, his lips curling into a grin. “Not interested in picking up some random fights either. Let’s find something decent.”

Hiori, who had been standing in the back, quiet as ever, finally spoke up, though his voice was low. “I’m not against the idea... but don’t expect me to get too involved.” He gave a small shrug, his gaze gliding over the group, an unreadable expression on his face. "Not really in the mood for loud crowds."

Yukimiya sensed the tension in the air, shrugged off his own hesitation. “We don’t need to be loud. A chill place with good drinks and maybe some quiet music—something like that would do the trick.”

“But... you guys all know how it goes,” Karasu added with a slight smile, his eyes scanning the faces around him, “someone’s bound to make a scene no matter where we go. Especially if Barou’s involved.”

“Shut it,” Barou snapped, his voice laced with an edge that made Karasu roll his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“It’s just what happens when you get a bunch of competitive idiots in one place,” Hiori muttered, earning a nod from Karasu, who seemed to agree without much effort. He folded his arms, taking in the interactions with a slight smirk.

“I don’t care where we go,” Aiku suddenly interjected from the side, his eyes cold as always. “As long as it’s not too far from here. I’ve got better things to do tomorrow than babysit you guys.” His voice wasn’t condescending, but it was clear he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of a long night out.

“Fine, fine,” Raichi grumbled, “but let’s make it happen already. This thing’s been dragging on forever.” He glanced at Nagi again, looking like he was silently pleading for something to break the tension.

Barou let out a breath of annoyance, but then turned his attention to Nagi, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re paying, right?”

Nagi didn’t even flinch. “Don’t be an idiot. Why would I pay?”

“Because you’re with the rich kid,” Barou said with a casual smirk, “you two should be buying the drinks. It’s only fair.”

Nagi rolled his eyes. “Says the guy who just won’t let go of his ego for one second.”

Reo laughed at that, raising his glass of water as if to make a toast. “Fair enough. But whatever. I don’t care who pays. Let’s just go. My treat if that’s what it takes to get out of here.”

“Reo’s buying?” Yukimiya teased with a grin. “Should’ve said so earlier. I’ll happily take a round of shots then.”

Reo shot him a mock glare. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it to one round, okay?”

“Alright,” Karasu interrupted, his usually soft-spoken tone laced with humor, “now that we’ve figured out who’s buying and where we’re going, how about we actually leave before this night gets even weirder?”

The group started to filter out of the room, some of them continuing their bickering, while others simply fell into a comfortable silence. They’d all spent enough time together to know how to handle each other’s quirks. Even Barou, who’d been distant from the group, seemed to accept the easy camaraderie that had formed between the members.

Finally, they stepped out of the venue, the cool night air hitting them with a refreshing chill. The noise of the after-party inside faded as they made their way down the street. For a moment, the tensions of the event seemed to evaporate. Maybe it was just the alcohol they were about to drink or the simple fact that the night was finally over, but for once, they were just a group of players going out for a drink—no competition, no egos, no pressure.

At least, not yet.

— — — — — 

Navitsu didn’t say anything as Isagi came to stand beside him, his eyes still trained on the door ahead, his posture relaxed but alert. For a brief moment, Isagi wondered if he would say something—something to break the silence, to offer the kind of reassurance he didn’t know he needed. But no words came, and that was fine. There was a comfort in the quiet between them. An understanding that needed no explanation.

Isagi felt a sense of comfort in this structure.

Like how it always has been since they were kids. Change wasn’t good. He hated it. His heart always welcomed nostalgia and other senses of anything that resembled his past. It also very much welcomed Navitsu.

So whatever this was, It felt good. 

Adapting to physical changes was another thing. He preferred changing his skills, body physique, and refining it according to whatever new clue he got from each match. It made him feel as though he was not only improving, but also slowly reaching his goal of being the best.

Mental changes? He avoided them at all costs. Not only does it make him feel uneasy of what it could mean to him, but also feels like he’s losing himself in the process, even if the change is subtle. 

So he greeted nostalgia like an old friend. 

“Isagi?”

He lifted his head just enough to make eye contact.

“Yeah?” 

Navitsu was staring at him with half his head slightly turned towards him, “will you stay?”

The question caught him off guard but he didn’t show it, thinking it was best to remain understanding “of course.”

Navitsu smiled at him, the same smile he always gave him whenever he needed to see it most. It was one of a kind, one where you can feel the warmth and love being given. His lips curled upwards enough to reach his eyes, the pinkish hue in them always caught Isagi’s eyes. And oh, his eyes. The ones so filled with affection that almost sparked in the dark.

What a sight to see indeed. 

“Isagi.” His voice was a gentle one, that of a caring parent. Whenever Isagi heard it, he felt a pull. And when Navitsu stopped walking ahead, Isagi managed to catch up just enough to be right behind him.

Isagi felt tension on Navitsu’s shoulders but didn’t mention it to him. It seemed as though he was hesitating to do something Isagi wasn’t sure of. An intake of breath was heard from where Navitsu was facing before he slowly turned to face him directly. 

His face was painted with sadness. 

It was an uncommon sight, not unfamiliar, but still a rare encounter. 

Isagi mirrored his expression, unsure if the conversation following would be any good.

“Yeah?” Isagi mumbled, and due to their close proximity, Navitsu was able to hear him loud and clear.

For some reason, Navitsu continued eyeing him and didn’t answer until Isagi tilted his head to the right.

“What,” he swallowed, “what am I to you?”

The moment those words were spoken, Isagi’s chest tightened. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. His eyes widened in panic. His breath hitched and he felt his hand tighten. He opened his mouth to try to voice his surprise, yet it felt dry. Navitsu’s expression hasn’t changed at all, and Isagi’ face could only burn in embarrassment.

“I, um…” Isagi stumbled on his words. 

It looked like Navitsu was patiently waiting for him to continue. 

“You’re… I,” Isagi allowed his eyes to meet Navitsu’s for a fraction of a second before quickly averting it, choosing to look at the grassy ground instead.

The moon was bright tonight, and right now it was their only source of light. Hopefully it was still dark enough to hide his reddened cheeks.

“You’re… family…”

“Yo!” Isagi was startled by the new voice that interrupted them, but Navitsu’s body seemed to go completely still after he answered him. “We’re starting our own night without Ego or anyone who would ruin it. Wanna join in?” Raichi wrapped an arm around Isagi’s neck playfully, giving him no choice other than to follow him.

Isagi nodded at him but stole a glance at Navitsu, who stood motionless, his expression unreadable. Something about the moment felt unfinished, like a question left hanging in the night air.

This is chapter 7

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, <- 7 -> 8

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 6 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 6:

Day one of the break

— 

‘Come to the football field near xx’

Isagi stared at the message for a while.

He was still processing it.

At first, his sleep-deprived brain convinced him he was imagining things. The words blurred together, the brightness of his phone screen making his head pound slightly. Who the hell messages someone like this first thing in the morning?

At some point he felt himself drift back to sleep, with the phone still in hand.

Wait. Was it even morning?

He turned his head slightly, eyes landing on the small digital clock near his bed. 

1:58 PM.

The next moment he opened his eyes, the message was still open. A full-body jolt ran through him. His phone almost slipped out of his hand. When his eyes lingered around the contact name, he quickly sat up.

‘Where the hell did he get my phone number?’ 

He rubbed at his eyes, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. The longer he stared at the message, the more he became aware of just how much of a mess he was. His skin was warm from where his face had been pressed into his pillow, a drool trail sticking to the side of his neck. His bangs were plastered across his forehead in every possible direction, his bedhead taking on an almost comical shape. His muscles ached, his body still sluggish from the weight of deep sleep, and his mouth felt like he'd been chewing on cotton.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the panic setting in as he quickly tried to type a response, thumbs moving too fast for his own good.

‘I am sossryy Sae! I just woke up and sidnt see your notifictauon!!’ 

The second he hit send, he realized just how atrocious that message looked. The typos were horrific. His breath hitched when the message was marked seen almost immediately. But Sae didn’t respond.

Oh god, he’s pissed. 

Isagi swallowed thickly before quickly typing another one.

‘I’ll go get ready right now and neet yiu wherever is mist convineient.’

The moment the message was sent, he threw his phone onto his bed and jumped to his feet, scrambling to get himself together. His mind raced as he tore his blanket off and stumbled towards the bathroom, only to crash face-first into the locked door. He didn’t hear any running water so he assumed no one was inside. 

He banged his fist on the wooden surface. “Hurry up, I need to shower!” His voice filled with stressed huffing, clearly out of breath.

A muffled voice, his dad, responded, “You had the whole morning to shower. Wait your turn.”

Isagi groaned in frustration, bouncing on his feet before making a split-second decision. There was no time for this. He turned sharply on his heel, grabbing his dad’s slippers on his way out. He didn’t bother changing out of his wrinkled sleep shirt or fixing his hair, he just ran.

Being a footballer had its perks, such as the ability to sprint to your best friend’s house in less than ten seconds.

That, and the fact they were neighbors.

The door rattled from the force of his knocks. And then it swung open.

Navitsu stood there, blinking. “…Yoichi?” He barely had time to react before Isagi brushed past him, making a beeline toward the nearest restroom. “Uh. Okay, sure, come right in, I guess,” Navitsu deadpanned sarcastically, closing the door behind him.

Once inside, Isagi tore through his routine like a man possessed. He showered, brushed his teeth furiously, barely caring whose toothbrush he was using (Navitsu’s, probably (absolutely)), and raked his hands through his hair in frustration. No matter how much he tried to fix it, the stubborn strands refused to be tamed.

After three failed attempts, he huffed, gave up, and chucked the hairbrush into the sink.

He swung the bathroom door open with too much force and ended up crashing straight into Navitsu’s chest. The impact was enough to make him stumble back, not strongly, but just enough to have him look up with a glare.

Navitsu steadied him, hands firm on his shoulders, before letting out a soft giggle. “You’re really in a hurry, huh?”

Isagi was about to throw some sarcastic remarks at the man in front of him, barely registering how close they were, before Navitsu reached out to smooth down a wild strand of hair. His fingers were gentle, the touch lingering longer than necessary.

Navitsu simply chuckled, taking his hand off Isagi and lifted a bundle of clothes. “I got you some of my old clothes,” Navitsu said, stepping back and holding out a neatly folded pile of fabric. “The ones you used to wear back then. Figured you’d need something decent to wear.” He ruffled Isagi’s hair affectionately.

Isagi let his gaze linger on the clothes for a moment before grabbing them without hesitation.

He turned on his heel, sprinting back toward the bathroom. But before he entered, he paused.

Something pulled him back.

Without thinking, he whirled around, closed the distance, and threw an arm around Navitsu, pulling him into a half hug, a friendly gesture Isagi figured he’d do to anyone.

“…Thank you,” he mumbled into his friend’s chest.

Navitsu chuckled softly, squeezing his shoulder before Isagi pulled away and rushed to change. Navitsu didn’t lie when he said these were some old clothes, he remembered seeing him wearing it back in middle school. It made Isagi scowl lightly. He usually wasn’t jealous of his friends, but sometimes seeing Navitsu’s grown physique made him feel envious. Especially since his only lacking skill in soccer, wasn’t even a skill but rather his build. 

He quickly shook that thought away, remembering why he was here in the first place.

By the time he emerged, Navitsu was no longer standing there. Instead, the faint sound of boiling water drifted from the kitchen.

Isagi poked his head in to see his friend stirring something in a pot, completely at ease.

“I’m leaving! Thanks again!”

Navitsu turned, a knowing smile on his lips as he waved. “Sure. Make sure you eat when you’re out.”

Isagi grinned, his chest feeling oddly full.

With that, he dashed out of the house, his feet carrying him straight toward the bus station.

The run to the bus station was short, but it felt longer than usual. Normally, Isagi would take his time, maybe stop to kick a stray can down the sidewalk or watch kids play a pickup game. But today, every step proved to be an obstacle. His focus was locked on getting to Sae—wherever Sae even was.

A few kids called out to him, their voices bright with excitement. “Yoichi! Play with us!”

He barely glanced their way, already jogging past. “Can’t today!” Their disappointed groans followed him, and something in his chest tightened.

When he finally reached the station, a cold realization settled over him.

He had no idea where he was going.

His hands flew to his jacket, patting down the fabric in search of his phone. Nothing. He checked his other pocket. Still nothing.

His stomach sank.

‘No way…’

His mind rewound, piecing together the morning’s chaos. He could see his phone right there—on his bed, where he’d thrown it after sending Sae his last message.

Sae, who was probably waiting.

Or worse, not waiting anymore.

‘Dammit!’

He pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to think.

He vaguely remembered Sae mentioning something about a field near Kamakura. Or maybe he was just filling in the gaps with whatever sounded right. Either way, he had no choice now.

Home was too far. If he turned back, he’d be wasting even more time, and there was no guarantee Sae had even replied. Especially since he had sent the first message, and he didn’t bother replying.

In other words, he’s just gonna have to suck it up. 

Isagi exhaled sharply and stepped onto the first train to Kamakura.

The ride was uneventful, just him, the steady hum of the train, and the empty space where his music should’ve been. His leg bounced anxiously, hands gripping his knees as he stared at his reflection in the window. He looked as exhausted as he felt.

When he finally stepped off the train, reality hit him fast.

Kamakura was huge. And his so-called plan? Nonexistent. He wandered, scanning the streets for any sign of a football field. For an hour, he searched, checking parks, glancing into open spaces where people might be playing. Nothing.

The cold started creeping in. His fingers flexed, trying to shake off the chill. His stomach twisted—not from hunger, but from frustration.

This was pointless.

With a sigh, he turned toward the nearest café, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked. The warm air inside hit him like a wave, and he exhaled in relief. At the counter, he ordered a small coffee, reaching into his pocket automatically. But his hand met nothing. A cold dread settled in his chest.

‘Did I seriously leave my wallet…?’

The realization made him stiffen. Slowly, he turned his gaze away from the barista, avoiding eye contact like that would somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

“Can I get one medium size latte, please.” 

Isagi froze on the spot. 

The voice was oddly familiar to him. 

And right now, it sounded like the bells to heaven.

His head snapped toward it so fast his neck almost cracked.

He gestured to the barista that he would be right back, and immediately sprinted towards the voice. When he was at arm's length, he stopped himself from invading any more of said personal space. He sure as hell wasn’t about to get himself in a situation to get beat up today of all days.

“I’m so—” He gasped, trying to catch his breath. “—glad to see you right now!”

The other turned, blinking at him, his eyes widening ever so slightly in what might’ve been shock. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. And then he did what he always did.

He ignored him.

Isagi gawked, baffled by the audacity. “Hey!” He whisper-yelled, mindful of the other customers. “Come on, please, I just need—”  He tried getting behind him, unsure if getting any closer would be a safe option.

“I don’t care, lukewarm.” Rin grabbed his coffee and started walking away. “Go bother someone else.”

Isagi stared, then he followed. “But there is no one else here that can help me!” 

Rin didn’t stop. “Is that my problem?”

“Yes!”

Rin finally turned, expression flat, unimpressed. His gaze flicked down as Isagi leaned in slightly, trying to assert some kind of dominance. It didn’t work—Rin was still taller.

“Look,” Isagi tried again, desperation creeping in. “Just lend me 1,200 yen. I’ll explain everything, and I promise you’ll wanna know.” Rin’s expression didn’t change, but something about him stilled. Isagi could feel the hesitation. He needed to push further. “It’s about Sae.”

And that did it.

Rin’s grip on his coffee tightened, fingers curling slightly. Isagi tried not to look too smug about it.

Eventually, Rin exhaled sharply and handed over the money, muttering something under his breath. Isagi didn’t bother asking what—he was too busy paying the poor barista who had been awkwardly waiting this entire time.

They sat across from each other. Isagi, still slightly jittery from the chase, cradled his coffee in his hands. Rin sat stiffly, glaring at him over the rim of his cup.

“Are you lying to get free money from me?” 

Isagi forced a nervous smile. “Do you really think so lowly of me?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be right.” The second the words left his mouth, Rin grabbed him by the collar. “Geez!” Isagi yelped, gripping Rin’s wrist. “Let me finish! I meant that I wouldn’t be against doing that—but today, I’m being genuine!”

Rin gave him a long, skeptical look before releasing him.

Isagi coughed, adjusting his shirt before finally explaining. “I was supposed to meet with your brother, but I left my phone at home, and now I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. If he even still wants to… It’s been almost 5 hours now…”

Rin’s expression hardened.

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you meeting up with him?” The look in Rin’s eyes was unreadable, and Isagi couldn’t help but feel increasingly uncomfortable with his gaze. Whether he was angry, sad, or jealous his brother chose him instead. He can find a hundred different reasons and none would be positive. 

Isagi looked down at his coffee, the steam curling into the air. “I don’t actually know,” he admitted. “In the middle of everything this morning, I didn’t even think to ask.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

He finally looked up to meet Rin’s eyes again, he felt bad, like he was the reason for their issues even if he wasn’t. 

“Can I… call him using your phone?”

Rin looked at him through narrowed eyes, but didn’t say anything. He instead took out a pen from his bag and a napkin from the table and started writing a number down. 

“That’s his phone number,” Rin said. “Call him for all I care.”

Isagi reached for it, but before he could say anything, Rin stood up. “Wait!” Isagi scrambled up after him. “I don’t have a phone!”

Rin turned slightly, eyes narrowing. “That’s not my problem.”

And then he was gone.

Isagi clenched the napkin in his fist, watching Rin disappear into the street.

“…That jerk,” he muttered.

But the longer Rin was out of sight, the more the anger faded, leaving behind something heavier.

With a sigh, he left the café, eyes scanning the streets.

He needed to find a phone booth. He looked at the small change he had in hand from the coffee. It was enough, just slightly to cover a few minutes. 

For a split second, he considered turning around, heading straight back home, and pretending this entire day never happened. His legs were aching, his stomach was empty, and the frustration bubbling in his chest was quickly becoming unbearable.

But then, he remembered Sae.

Sae, who had the tolerance of a man who had long since decided that most people were beneath him. If Isagi backed out now, there was no doubt in his mind that Sae would label him as unworthy: just another average player with no real conviction. An embarrassing excuse for a so-called protégé.

The thought alone made him physically cringe.

It might not seem that serious.

But Isagi imagined if it was Noa in Sae’s place; he’d want someone with principles, priorities and one who possessed valuable virtues. 

This was also Sae’s first impression of him off the field. And not all good players were good for partners in management, especially in the world of soccer. The first person who came to his mind was Rin, he was the previous number one striker in Blue Lock, but he was also short tempered and was always picking fights with Shiodu. Which ultimately was the reason he didn’t get any offer from Re Al, and Isagi did instead. That, and the fact he was better, Isagi felt himself smirk in pride. But then he remembered his prior thought.

“No way,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head vigorously. ‘I’m not giving up that easily.’ Isagi wasn’t the type to just roll over and accept failure. Not here. Not in front of Sae, of all people. The man he admired since he was a kid aside Noa.

The last thing he wanted was to see that disinterested, unimpressed look on his face again.

‘Even if all the gods are against me, I’ll still make it there!’

And yet, just as quickly as that confidence surged, it came crashing down like a crumbling tower.

A cold, wet drop hit his forehead. Then another.

Isagi barely had time to register what was happening before the skies above him cracked open. It wasn’t a light drizzle. It wasn’t even a moderate, inconvenient rain. It was pouring. Within seconds, his clothes were sticking to his skin, the  jacket clinging uncomfortably to his arms. He hunched his shoulders, bracing against the sudden downpour, but it was no use—the rain soaked through every layer, running down the back of his neck and sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

He groaned. Loudly. “Are you kidding me?”

His hair flopped against his forehead, heavy with rainwater. He wiped at his face, but it was a useless effort.

‘If I die here, I hope Rin gets arrested for first-degree murder.’

The mental image was dramatic, sure, but so was the fact that the universe seemed to be personally conspiring against him today. Rin also left him to fend for himself.

With no phone, no umbrella, and no idea where the hell he was supposed to meet Sae, Isagi was officially stranded.

And cold.

And starving.

And increasingly regretting every decision that had led him to this exact moment.

He glanced around, his vision slightly blurred by the rain streaming down his face. The streets weren’t entirely deserted—there were people hurrying by, some ducking under awnings, others scrambling to pull out umbrellas. Cars sped through the wet roads, their tires splashing up water that Isagi barely managed to dodge. The neon glow of shop signs flickered in the stormy afternoon light, casting warped reflections onto the pavement.

A phone booth. That’s what he needed.

He knew they were rare nowadays, but there had to be one somewhere around here. He shoved his hands into his drenched pockets and kept walking, eyes darting around for any sign of a payphone.

And then, just as he turned the corner, he saw it.

A single, weathered phone booth stood near the entrance of a convenience store, its glass fogged up from the humidity. It looked ancient, like it had barely survived the transition into modern times.

But Isagi didn’t care.

Without hesitation, he sprinted towards it, splashing through puddles and nearly slipping on the slick pavement. When he reached the booth, he yanked the door open and stumbled inside, the tiny space barely providing any shelter from the cold.

He exhaled sharply, trying to catch his breath. His hands were shaking slightly—not just from the cold, but from the sheer exhaustion of running around all day with no real progress. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the napkin Rin had given him earlier, now slightly damp but still legible. He squinted at the numbers scrawled across it.

Sae’s number.

Finally, something was going right.

He picked up the receiver and dialed, pressing the cold plastic against his ear. The line rang once. Twice.

Then—

Click.

He hesitated before awkwardly introducing himself. Each second mattered now.

“Sae,” he began, there was a pause, followed by what sounded like a relieved sigh on the other end. “It’s me, Isagi Yoichi.” A small laugh escaped his lips.

“You’re alive,” Sae’s voice finally came through, dry and unamused. 

Isagi ignored the sarcasm in favor of sheer relief. “Thank god. I…” He stopped, realizing how ridiculous he must sound. “Okay, listen. I forgot my phone, and then I lost track of time, and then it started raining, and—”

“You got lost, didn’t you?”

Isagi bristled. “No!”

A beat of silence.

“Just tell me where you wanted to meet.”

“It’s raining. How can I test your skills in this condition?” Another sigh. “Stay there,” Sae muttered. “I’ll come get you.”

Then the line went dead.

Isagi stared at the receiver for a moment before slowly setting it back down.

He stood there for a moment, gripping the sides of the phone booth as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His heart was still hammering from the call—half from relief, half from the knowledge that he had successfully wasted hours of Sae’s time.

And now, Sae was coming to get him. In this rain. In this weather.

Isagi groaned, dragging his hands down his face. 

Still, there was nothing else to do but wait.

He stepped out of the booth for a second, glancing up at the sky as the rain continued to pour relentlessly. The streets were still lively, people running from place to place, but to him, it felt like the world had gone still. The wet pavement glowed under the dim light of street lamps, and the neon signs of convenience stores reflected off the puddles at his feet.

He was exhausted. His entire body ached from running around all day with nothing to show for it.

He sighed and leaned against the side of the booth, hugging himself for warmth. His clothes were soaked through, and the jacket he borrowed from Navitsu was barely helping at this point.

‘Test my skills?’ He thought, choosing to instead focus on literally anything else, ‘if he played against me already, what else does he want to test? Is it going to be like how Rin trained?’ His mind now reminiscing how the two of them used to train yoga together.

Well, more like how he forced the latter to help him increase his flexibility.

The rain increased more now, making it harder for Isagi to think.

Sae better not take his time.

— — — — —

Isagi was beginning to wonder if Sae had abandoned him when he suddenly heard the screech of tires pulling up near the curb.

He turned his head just in time to see a sleek, black car come to a halt in front of the convenience store. The passenger-side window rolled down, and Isagi barely had a second to process what was happening before he was met with the unimpressed stare of Itoshi Sae.

“Get in,” Sae said, voice clipped and impatient.

Isagi didn’t need to be told twice. He rushed toward the car, yanking the door open and practically throwing himself into the passenger seat. The moment the door shut behind him, warmth engulfed his freezing body, sending a violent shudder through his spine. His soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin, his hands stiff from the cold.

The door shut behind him with a dull thud, and for the first time since this disaster started, Isagi finally let himself breathe.

A beat of silence passed, filled only by the steady drumming of rain on the windshield. The car smelled like clean leather and something distinctly Sae—cool, sharp, like the faint trace of cologne that lingered on the fabric of his clothes.

Sae exhaled sharply, resting his elbow against the door, fingers pressed lightly to his temple as he finally took a good look at Isagi. “You look awful.”

Isagi let out a small huff of laughter, voice hoarse. “Thanks. I feel awful too.”

Sae didn’t acknowledge the sarcasm. Instead, he turned his gaze forward, shifting the gear as the car smoothly pulled back onto the road.

“Were you running around all day?”

“I—” Isagi hesitated. Saying ‘I got lost’ sounded humiliating, but at this point, he had nothing to lose. “I didn’t know where to meet you, so I just… started searching.”

Sae shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. “For five hours?”

“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

Sae clicked his tongue, eyes returning to the road. 

Isagi slumped further into the seat, pressing his forehead against the cold window. The city lights outside blurred through the streaks of rain, casting the streets in a hazy, dreamlike glow. Before he could come up with a half-decent comment, Sae was already reaching into the console between them. Without looking, he tossed something into Isagi’s lap.

It was a towel.

Isagi blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected act of kindness. He hesitated, glancing at Sae as if waiting for some kind of snide remark, but the older boy didn’t say anything.

“…Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing the towel and rubbing it against his wet hair.

Sae sighed, adjusting the temperature controls to make the car warmer. Isagi huffed out a laugh, still toweling off his head. 

But out of the corner of his eye, Isagi could see the way his fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. “Why did you go through all this trouble to meet me?”

Isagi opened his mouth—then closed it.

He knew exactly why. He admired Sae. The mere thought of the man being disappointed in him after Isagi made all that talk about waiting for him to unleash his true potential was basically like passing the ball to Noa and expecting a thank you in return. 

Something about Sae pulling him into his orbit made it impossible to resist. Because, despite everything, he wanted to know what was on Sae’s mind.

The words got caught in his throat.

“…Dunno,” he muttered instead. “Guess I was curious to see what you wanted from me.”

Sae inhaled sharply, but he didn��t respond right away.

“Tell me where your house is located.”

Isagi nodded, giving him directions as they drove. The words came easier the more the warmth seeped into his bones, and soon he was talking about anything and everything, rambling about the cold, the godforsaken rain, how he almost died of embarrassment at the café. Sae didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell him to shut up. He just listened.

By the time they reached the neighborhood, Isagi had finally run out of things to say. The sudden quiet was noticeable, almost jarring. Sae threw him a brief glance before his eyes returned to the road.

“You can drop me here,” Isagi said, pointing toward a house just a few steps away.

Sae obeyed, slowing the car to a stop. But before he unlocked the doors, he turned to Isagi, expression unreadable. “Go grab your phone and come back,” he leaned back to the door. 

Isagi stared at him, confused. “Uh… it’s at my house.”

Sae gave him a flat look. “Isn’t this your house?”

Isagi scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “I asked you to stop at my friend’s house.”

Sae stared at him for a long moment. “Seriously?”

“What do you even need my phone for?”

“What are you even doing here instead of just going home?”

“Returning clothes.” Isagi gestured vaguely at his outfit. “These aren’t mine. My friend let me borrow them since I left in a hurry.”

Sae’s posture stilled for just a fraction of a second. It was brief—so brief that Isagi almost missed it. Then, as quickly as it came, his usual indifference returned. “Fine, next time bring your phone.”

Isagi turned his head fast, “next time—?“ 

Sae finally unlocked the locks of the car which made Isagi understand it was his cue to get out. He bowed slightly in respect and thanked the man before stepping out into the night.

As he walked toward the front door, he could feel Sae’s gaze lingering on him. The weight of it pressed against his back, making his skin prickle.

But when he knocked, the moment shattered.

The door opened revealing a shirtless Navitsu, he was wearing his boxing shorts and gloves. The sight of the man made Isagi’s face fume. It took Navitsu’s voice to finally make him snap out of it. 

“Oh,” Navitsu said casually, leaning against the doorframe. His gaze flickered past Isagi toward the car. “Is that Sae Itoshi?” 

Before Isagi could turn to check, the black car was already gone.

“Yeah,” though his eyes kept trailing back to the man’s chest. 

A smirk appeared on Navitsu’s face almost immediately. “Were you two on a date?” He teased. 

Isagi scowled, shoving past him into the house. “Shut up and move.” Navitsu only laughed, following him inside. As Isagi kicked off his shoes, his stomach growled. “Please tell me you made something.”

Navitsu headed toward the kitchen, already heating up leftovers. “You’re deflecting my question.”

“I’m starving,” Isagi whined.

Navitsu held out a spoon, offering him a taste. “Come here.”

Isagi hesitated, but the smell was too good to resist. He leaned in, taking a bite straight from the spoon—closing his eyes with a groan at the taste. “Holy shit. That’s amazing.”

Navitsu finished preparing the plate and handed it to Isagi. “Good,” he pointed, “I’ve always preferred him over Kaiser.”

Isagi frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Navitsu’s smirk only deepened at the question, he tilted his head to throw Isagi a genuine smile, indicating that he wasn’t answering the question. 

Isagi tsked at that, “whatever.” 

They both sat in the most comfortable silence for a while before Isagi finished his plate. 

“Put a damn shirt on.”

“Will you be staying over?” Navitsu picked the plate up to go wash it but was stopped by Isagi.

Isagi went to the sink, “yeah, I feel like pulling an all-nighter and watching a movie.”

Navitsu smiled softly at that, it was not unusual for them to do this little routine. But it’s been a while since they have, the fond memories emerged through his head, making him remember all the times little Yoichi would whine if they didn’t watch what he specifically wanted. 

“And I’m picking the movie.”

Ah, of course he was. 

— — — — —

Day two of the break

— 

The next day didn’t start any better. 

Due to the fact they had fallen asleep while watching the movie, they didn’t exactly try to get up and simply stayed on the couch.They each stayed on their own side, though their legs remained tangled. Isagi was the first to slowly open his eyes, the sunlight emitting from the kitchen window. It was probably way past when he usually wakes up but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If Ego had given him a break, it meant it was well deserved. 

Isagi sat up, trying his best not to wake the blond up. He decided it was best to leave and go see his parents, who were most likely waiting for him for breakfast as usual. In a way, Isagi wanted to thank Rin for his yoga lessons, though Rin had been very impatient and harsh with him. It certainly came in handy when trying to break free from the mess that was their sleepover. With one swift move he fell face-first onto the floor, but his brain was more focused on the rhythm of Navitsu’s breathing, the fall only serving as a background noise. 

Luckily, Navitsu only let out a small groan before shifting into a more comfortable position. Isagi let out a sigh of relief and pushed himself off the floor. He took his clothes from the bathroom that he was wearing the day before when he came here in a hurry. He didn’t have anything else on him other than that, his phone was home and everything else he had just borrowed from Navitsu. 

When he reached his house, his parents were already sitting down and enjoying tv together. They had always been like that; lost in their own world, Yoichi being the testament of their love. 

“Hey dear,” his mom greeted him when she heard him close the front door. The beam on her face made Isagi want to smile back even with how tired he felt. “If you haven’t eaten yet I made extra for you in the microwave. Did you stay at Navi’s house again?” He could hear the teasing in her voice even with his back turned.

His dad took this as an opportunity to double down, “you’re getting older, though nothing’s changed!”

Isagi supposed the look on his face spoke volumes, and instead of rolling his eyes he simply shoved a handful of food in his mouth. Some might consider Isagi a bad son. He would disagree. That’s just the way he and his parents were; they never understood him, and he never expected them to. He was only happy to receive support and love from them which he always returned with wordless actions of love. 

He hated showing affection.

He thought the silent acts of love are the only thing he could offer. And his parents seemed content with that. 

“Your phone kept buzzing all morning, by the way.”

“You don’t say.”

Isagi barely paid attention to his father’s words as he scooped another bite of food into his mouth. The warm, home-cooked meal should’ve been comforting, but his mind was already elsewhere. His fingers tapped absentmindedly against the table as he thought about who could be trying to reach him so urgently.

For a brief moment, a flicker of unease settled in his chest.

Yesterday’s disaster still lingered in his mind, the sheer panic of it all. Getting lost in an unfamiliar part of the city, drenched in the rain, running on nothing but stubborn determination. He never wanted to experience that again. Even if the one calling him was Noa Noel himself, he wasn’t in the mood for more chaos.

Needless to say, today was going to be different. For once, he just wanted to focus on himself. No unexpected detours, no miscommunications, no unnecessary stress. He deserved that much. He’d treat himself decently, unlike the whirlwind of exhausting encounters he’d had yesterday.

Not that Sae was rude by all means—no in fact, he was nothing like Isagi had originally thought. Back during the U20 match, he had only ever seen the way Sae treated Rin and Shidou—two completely different people who somehow shared the same air of reckless ambition. Two sides of the same coin, and all that. The way Sae spoke to them, dismissed them, shut them down without a second thought, it had made Isagi assume he was just another football-obsessed freak, much like himself.

He had respected that about him.

But actually talking to Sae was… different.

And for some reason, Isagi couldn’t shake the odd feeling that lingered in his chest, heavy and unplaceable.

He didn’t know what it was, but his gut told him to stay alert.

Always trust your instincts. That was the one rule he never ignored.

Without realizing it, he had wandered into his bedroom, still lost in thought. The mess inside was nothing new. Clothes haphazardly thrown over his desk chair, soccer cleats kicked into the corner, a few empty water bottles rolling near his bed. Normally, he’d at least pretend to care, but right now? He was too drained to deal with it.

Flopping onto the mattress, he stretched his limbs out, sighing as the tension in his shoulders finally eased. He fished his phone out from the pile of blankets, squinting at the bright screen.

[15 Unread Messages]

Most of the messages were from Bachira and Chigiri, both repeatedly asking if he wanted to hang out today.

And one from Anri.

His fingers hovered over the screen for a second before he tapped it open.

It was an invitation. A formal one. Before he could click on the file to see the details, his phone buzzed again, an unknown number flashing on the screen. His brows furrowed, but he answered without hesitation.

“Hello—”

“Finally.” A deep, exasperated voice cut him off. “Your idiot friends can’t survive a day without you. Talk to them.”

Isagi blinked. “Barou?”

There was a brief shuffle on the other end, like someone wrestling the phone away. Then a much more familiar, cheerful voice took over.

“Yocchan!”

Isagi exhaled through his nose, already feeling some of the tension in his shoulders ease. “Hey, Bachira,” he greeted, softer. “What happened?”

“You weren’t answering! I got suuuuper worried!” Bachira whined, though the dramatics didn’t lessen the warmth in his tone. “Come hang out with us. You need some fun in your life. We also miss you!” A few ‘not me’s were heard but Isagi only managed to roll his eyes at that.

Isagi leaned back against his headboard, rubbing his temple. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“Me, Chigiri, Reo, and Barou.”

“…What an odd combination,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. But from the way Bachira giggled, he knew his friend had caught it.

“We’re making it work.”

“I’ll think about it,” Isagi said, noncommittal, already debating whether he had the energy to be social today.

Bachira made a thoughtful noise before his voice turned just a tad more serious. “Are you coming to the event tomorrow, though? It seems really important. Especially with you being the new number one Blue Lock-er.”

Isagi felt his body stiffen, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “…What event?”

“Didn’t you get Anri’s message?” There was a pause, and even though he couldn’t see Bachira, he could practically picture his head tilting in confusion.

“I think I did,” Isagi admitted. “I just haven’t opened it yet.”

A groan came from the background. “Make sure you do!” Reo’s voice cut in sharply. “It’s important, and ‘attendance is mandatory,’ as Anri put it.”

There was more rustling—someone snatching the phone back. Then Barou’s unmistakable growl returned. “This was a complete waste of my time,” he grumbled. “Don’t waste my battery over your pathetic social life.”

That earned a chorus of laughter from the others before the call cut off. Isagi lowered his phone, staring at the screen. Something about the way Reo emphasized mandatory didn’t sit right with him. With a small inhale, he tapped back to Anri’s message and opened the attachment. It was time to find out exactly what he was being dragged into.

— — — — — 

Barou scrolled through his phone, trying his best to ignore the buzzing bees surrounding him. Which was increasingly difficult with how much more energetic they were getting. Their incessant chatter wasn’t exactly helping his already foul mood. He flicked through a few messages, most of them from Reo, who had once again organized their group outing for the day—something Barou couldn’t care less about. 

And one in particular was being way too annoying. It wasn’t until Bachira launched a crumpled piece of paper at his head that Barou finally broke his silence. “Can you all shut up for five seconds?” he growled, his fingers tightening around the phone. 

Chigiri didn’t even bother looking up, but Bachira grinned widely. “You’re grumpy, Barou! What’s got you all worked up today?”

The redhead finally mumbled quietly, “isn’t he always like this, though,” which was more of a statement than a question. 

Barou glared at him, his patience wearing thin. “I’m just tired of being surrounded by idiots. Can’t even scroll in peace.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re ignoring us,” Bachira teased, jumping up to sit next to him. “We’ve been trying to get Isagi to join us, but he’s all weird about it.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Didn’t you hear? Maybe he’s scared of the event.”

Barou snorted. “Isagi’s never scared of anything. But the rest of you are idiots for thinking he’s acting weird. He’s probably busy moping around.”

Reo finally looked up from his phone, his tone calm but sharp. “Are you talking about what happened at the cafe the other day?”

The group finally quieted down, memories of what happened resurfacing. No one mentioned it yet. They hoped that Isagi would, and they could start attacking him with their questions then. They didn’t even know where to begin their line of questioning with, damn it. But one question lingered in everyone’s head: what the hell happened to you?

After a long stretching silence, Bachira was the first to speak up, “honestly, it’s this Kaiser! He keeps making Isagi’s life more difficult just ‘cause his is already miserable.” He crossed his arms with an adorable puff, “Isagi was fine until the second phase.”

Chigiri shook his head at the comment, and put his drink down. “No way,” his hands suddenly tightened into a fist, “it’s Navitsu… He needs to learn to back off.” 

“I’m not sure he’s the one who keeps clinging to Isagi,” Reo stated, “it seemed as though Isagi didn’t mind it, he in fact encouraged him.” Before anyone could reply to that, Reo groaned quite loudly, “are we going to ignore the fact that they didn’t tell anyone they knew each other?!” 

Chigiri quickly shot up from his seat, “right?! I thought I was exaggerating! But the two are too close and it was weird of them not to tell us.”

“Isagi doesn’t owe you anything.” Barou glared at the pair, “if he wants to, he will. It must’ve been private to him.” The glare Barou was sending seemed personal, as if they weren’t aimed at the two but rather at himself. Like he was disappointed he wasn’t the first to find out, as if he knew Isagi best. 

The outburst made everyone a little hesitant to continue the topic. The atmosphere shifted after Barou’s remark, a strange tension settling over the group. It wasn’t often that Barou spoke with anything other than irritation, so the weight behind his words was enough to make them pause.

Bachira, always one to notice the smallest cracks in people, hummed thoughtfully before leaning forward, resting his chin on his palm. “Barou, are you jealous?” He teased, a poor attempt at easing the tension.

Barou scoffed angrily, ready to pounce on Bachira, his grip tightening around his phone. “This might be a challenge, but try not to be stupid,” he shot back. “I just don’t see the point in prying into someone’s business when they clearly don’t want to share.”

“Yeah, but…” Bachira tapped his fingers against the table rhythmically. “You seem way too mad for someone who doesn’t care.” That seemed to finally set Barou off and he quickly grabbed Bachira by his collar, attracting the attention of nearby people. 

Reo smirked, always one to pounce when he sensed an opportunity. “Exactly. You’re acting like you got left out, Barou. You sure you’re not sulking about it?” He laughed sarcastically, “weren’t you the first to get there? How did you not notice?”

Barou’s glare could’ve incinerated him on the spot, but Reo only leaned back with an amused huff.

Chigiri, ever the voice of reason, sighed and crossed his arms. “It’s not that weird for Isagi to keep something to himself. He’s never been the type to share things unless he has to.” His brows furrowed slightly. “But this still feels… off. He looked different when Navitsu showed up. Almost like he wasn’t sure how to act.”

Reo nodded, the amusement fading from his face. “That’s what’s bothering me. Isagi’s always sure of himself, even when he’s second-guessing his own decisions. But back at the café? It was like he didn’t know whether to fight Navitsu or—” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “—or follow him.”

That realization settled uncomfortably in all of them.

Bachira huffed loudly and he somehow managed to slip through Barou’s grip on him, completely ignoring the way the bigger man yelled at him to get back. “Ugh, why do people keep trying to steal Isagi? First Kaiser, now Navitsu! He’s our Isagi! Right, Barou?” He tilted his head up to grin mischievously. “Or do you think he belongs to someone else now?” Barou shoved him off with a grumble, malice clear on his face. He was unimpressed with the running joke, but it seemed as though Bachira wasn’t willing to let go just yet.

“…Maybe we should ask him,” Chigiri suggested after a beat. “Directly, this time. No more waiting around for him to bring it up.”

Reo tilted his head, considering. “You think he’ll actually answer us?”

“If he doesn’t,” Barou muttered, cracking his knuckles, “we’ll make him.”

Chigiri shot him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, because threatening him will totally get us answers.”

“If he doesn’t though,” Bachira started, a serious look now looming over his face, “we’ll keep being worried and it seems like he keeps getting worse the more he interacts with either of those people.” ‘Those people’ being Kaiser and Navitsu they assumed. While it was a rare sight, it wasn’t unusual for Bachira to get worked up over Isagi. After all, Bachira cared for Isagi the most, while the others didn’t understand the immediate attachment, it mattered to Bachira and that’s all they needed to know.

Bachira ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “I just can’t shake it, you know? Every time Isagi’s around them, it’s like something changes in him—like he’s not even sure who he is anymore.” His tone wavered between concern and frustration.

Barou’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not a child. He can handle himself.” Yet, the underlying tension in his voice betrayed his own worry.

Chigiri leaned forward, his gaze serious. “Maybe. But if he keeps shutting us out… if he keeps trying to handle it alone, then we’re all gonna suffer in the end.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Isagi’s our friend. We’ve got to stick together, even if it means prying a little more than we should. His performance in Blue Lock is going to be the one suffering most. And I’m sure he knows that too.”

Reo’s fingers drummed on the table. “I get that, but there’s a fine line between being protective and being invasive. We don’t know what’s going on in his head. Maybe he’s just processing things his way.”

Bachira’s jaw tightened, his eyes reflecting both worry and determination. “That may be so, but every minute we wait is another minute he’s spiraling further away from us—and from who he used to be.” His voice softened, almost pleading. “We need to do something before it’s too late.”

Chigiri sighed, looking at each of them in turn. “Maybe we just let him know that we’re here, that he’s not alone in this, no matter what’s happening with Kaiser, Navitsu, or anyone else.”

A heavy silence settled over them, punctuated only by the low hum of the café. Each friend wrestled with his own thoughts. The unspoken truth hung between them: Isagi was slipping away, and time was running out. Their next move had to be careful, calculated, and above all—

Honest.

After a long pause, the group shifted from topic to topic, now focusing on the hangout; what they’ll wear tomorrow, what the next phase will be, and just… anything. They ate and laughed, aside from Barou of course, who was only commenting every now and then on how he’s gonna beat Bachira up with a spoon. 

By the time they finished up, they still chose to stay silent about the previous topic. They were never going to come to a decision, not when each and every single one here agreed on a different thing. 

Bachira wanted to confront Isagi directly.

Chigiri wanted Isagi to come clean but with their support.

Reo didn’t want anything to do with this.

Barou wanted to beat Isagi up. Or Navitsu. Or both.

The air outside was cool against their skin, the distant sounds of cars humming through the city mixing with their footsteps on the pavement. The streetlights cast long, stretched-out shadows behind them, flickering slightly against the darkness creeping in. The four of them walked side by side, an unspoken weight settling over their group, even as they tried to move past the tense discussion from earlier.

Chigiri kicked a stray pebble with the tip of his shoe, watching as it skittered across the sidewalk, bouncing off the curb before disappearing into the gutter. His arms were loosely crossed over his chest, fingers gripping at the fabric of his jacket as he exhaled through his nose, barely glancing at the others.

“We’re going in circles,” he muttered, irritation seeping into his voice. “Talking about it isn’t doing anything.”

Bachira, walking beside him with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, hummed in agreement. He tilted his head back, letting his gaze wander up toward the inky sky, as if hoping for some divine intervention. “Then let’s do something about it. Anything’s better than just sitting around.” His voice was light, but the edge in his tone betrayed his frustration.

Reo, who had been fidgeting with his phone, snapped his attention toward them, an eyebrow quirking upward. “Like what?”

Bachira’s lips curled into a grin, one that was sharp and mischievous, but there was something more behind it—something calculating. “I dunno, maybe pay a visit to a certain blonde we all dislike?”

Reo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Which one? Kaiser? Seriously? What do you think he’s gonna say? He’ll probably just be an ass about it.”

Bachira let out a small laugh, swaying slightly as he walked. “Probably, but he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to have a problem being in Isagi’s space all the time. He might slip up.”

Chigiri narrowed his eyes slightly, considering the option before shaking his head. “Or we could go for Navitsu.” His voice was even, but there was something firm about the way he said it, like he had already made up his mind.

Barou, who had been silent up until now, let out a sharp scoff. His arms were crossed tightly over his broad chest, and his expression was as unreadable as ever, but the clench of his jaw gave him away. “You think that snake will tell you anything useful?”

Reo smirked slightly, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “No, but he might let something slip if we push the right buttons. I say we split up—half of us deal with Kaiser, the other half takes Navitsu. Either way, we get answers.”

Bachira’s grin widened, eyes glinting with excitement. “I like that plan! We get to mess with people. I call dibs on annoying Kaiser.”

Chigiri shot him a tired look. “Why am I not surprised?” he exasperated, rubbing his temple as if already regretting the decision.

Barou exhaled through his nose, the sound heavy and irritated. He flexed his fingers before cracking his knuckles with deliberate slowness. “Fine. I’ll deal with Navitsu.”

Chigiri met his gaze, reading the barely restrained frustration in Barou’s stance, before nodding slightly in agreement. “Alright. Then that means I’m going with you.”

Reo clapped his hands together, already working through the best way to approach the situation. “Looks like I’m with Bachira, then.”

“When should we do this?” Bachira asked, rocking back on his heels, eager energy thrumming beneath his skin.

“The event, of course.” Chigiri pulled out his phone, a message appearing on the screen. He turned it slightly for them to see, the guest list displayed clearly. “See this? Blue Lock-ers aren’t the only ones invited.”

The group collectively nodded, acknowledging the perfect opportunity.

Barou, however, tsked at that, shoving his hands into his pockets. “This is a waste of time.” But the way his fingers curled into fists told a different story. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, restless. It was clear he had already made up his mind. Whether he was interested in getting answers or just in the mood to beat some sense into Isagi—or Navitsu, or anyone else who pissed him off—was unclear.

Reo smirked knowingly. “Then don’t come.”

Barou’s glare was immediate, sharp enough to cut. “Tch. Like hell I’d let you idiots handle this without me.”

Bachira giggled, swinging an arm over Reo’s shoulder in amusement. “We’d be lost without you, Barou. What would we do without your delightful personality?”

Barou grunted in annoyance, shrugging him off easily. “Shut up.”

As the group continued walking, their usual banter resumed, albeit with an undercurrent of something heavier beneath it. The night stretched on, their footsteps steady as they moved forward, a shared determination burning between them. The next move was set, and whether or not they were ready for what they’d uncover, there was no turning back now.

This is chapter

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, <- 6 -> 7

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 5 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 5:

Isagi was always a huge Re Al fan since he was a kid. 

He spent countless evenings in front of the television, glued to the screen as he watched their exhilarating matches unfold. Every game was an orchestration of raw talent and expert synergy, with each player contributing their unique essence to the team's dynamics. 

The way they moved in sync made his heart race. He adored the little quirks each member displayed, reminders of their individuality, even within the collective spirit of the team. Isagi would often daydream about being on that pitch, feeling that electric energy and wearing the iconic Re Al jersey.

Their triumphs had inspired him, fueling his desire to become one of the elite. He studied their strategies, memorized their moves, and idolized the way they transcended the sport, turning it into an art form.

“ISAGI YOICHI, FROM THE GERMAN TEAM BASTARD MÜNCHEN, GETS AN OFFER OF 200 MILLION YEN TO JOIN THE PRESTIGIOUS TEAM—RE AL!”

His heart raced, pounding in his chest as disbelief swept over him. Was this real? The eyes of his fellow teammates widened in shock, their expressions mirroring his own. There was a moment of stunned silence, thick with disbelief before the cacophony of murmurs erupted around him.

Why in God’s name did they want him? He had trained hard, yes, but was he truly worthy of standing among the giants of Re Al? The thought both exhilarated and terrified him. 

He felt multiple bodies on top of him now, some even screaming his ears raw.

“Isagi!” He heard Kurona yell, his face filled with excitement. “Are you gonna take the offer?!”

“Of course he is!” Hiori tackled him from the side, grinning from ear to ear. 

The question left Isagi quiet, his mind now racing with thoughts of his mentor, Ego.

Was he going to let him go?

Or will he keep him under his wing?

The speakers started buzzing lightly again, a sound that cut through the loud conversations like a knife. A hush fell over the room, every gaze snapping toward the overhead system, anticipation thrumming in the air. The atmosphere shifted, and a collective breath was held in suspense.

“Isagi Yoichi,” Anri’s voice resonated through the cramped dormitories, authoritative yet laced with a hint of exasperation. “Head to Ego’s office, please.” She ended with a small groan, a sound that encapsulated both her fatigue and the weight of the moment.

The mention of his name hung in the air, its echo magnifying the swirl of emotions churning within him. He caught the curious glances from his teammates, some filled with envious admiration, while others expressed concern as they began to piece together the significance of the announcement.

With urgency fueling his steps, Isagi quickly started heading towards the door, his heart drumming in his chest as he navigated the maze of familiar hallways. He felt the scrutiny of countless eyes on him.

As he walked, his mind raced with questions. Would he be met with praise for the potential they saw in him, or would they emphasize the weight of responsibility that came hand-in-hand with such an opportunity? 

His steps quickened at the thought of Ego, the team’s enigmatic coach known for his rigorous standards and brutal honesty. Ego was a man whose vision for the future of football bordered on the prophetic, and Isagi had always free-fallen into his teachings, eager to absorb every lesson. But now, standing at the precipice of his dreams, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was entirely unprepared for the conversation ahead.

He knocked gently, the sound echoing in the stillness that enveloped him. A deep, commanding voice beckoned him to enter, and he steeled himself for the unknown.

Isagi felt no need to announce his arrival, since Ego was already staring deep into him.

“Will you accept it?” He asked the young striker, firmly and darkly.

“Isn’t that up to you?” 

Ego obviously didn’t like his answer from how he started glaring daggers at him. “The decision is yours. I won’t be responsible for your screw ups.”

He saw a small movement from beside Ego, it was Anri. “We, of course, need to discuss—”

“No.” Ego interrupted, making Anri’s expression turn even more sour, “he should decide.”

Decide where he should improve?

“Why are you pretending to be uncaring when we both know you do?” Anri kept pushing.

But Bastard München has the greatest striker of all time.

“Stop pampering him, Anri. I’m sure he can come up with a yes or no answer on his own.”

While Re Al was the greatest team of all times.

“It’s not pampering!” She argued, “I just want to make sure this is the best decision.”

Where can he get better… who can make his abilities shine brighter…

“Just shut up.”

Who?

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Yes.” He finally spoke up, his voice breaking through the awkward tension that had settled in the room, causing Anri and Ego to finally turn their heads back to him. Their expressions were a blend of curiosity and something more inscrutable—anticipation, perhaps? 

“Yes… what?” Anri questioned, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes, not sure if she was hearing him correctly.

Isagi took a moment, feeling the weight of their gazes upon him. The determination that had surged within him now burned like fire, intense and undeniable. “Yes, I will accept Re Al’s proposal.” The words tumbled out, each syllable laced with a mixture of resolve and trepidation. While he was sure of his decision, deep-rooted fears still coiled around the edges of his mind. 

What would Ego think? What would this mean for his growth, his relationship with the team, and the future he had envisioned?

He shifted his gaze to Ego, hoping to read his mentor’s reaction. But Ego simply stared back, his expression inscrutable as he processed the moment, a shifting tension hanging in the air. A slight flicker of something, disapproval, or perhaps calculated indifference, crossed his face before he turned back to the screens lining the wall, each one illuminating highlights of past games, player statistics, and tactical formations.

“I see.” Ego’s voice was dismissive, as if the life-changing decision Isagi had just shared was nothing more than a minor detail in an ongoing narrative. He returned his focus to the screens, the swirling anticipation in the room swallowed whole by the cold glow of data and footage. It was as if Isagi had stepped into the room for a moment only to be mobbed by the weight of mundane reality.

“I—what?” Isagi stumbled over his words, confusion spilling out. This was definitely not the reaction he was expecting. Surely, he had envisioned a discussion, a debate, maybe even a strategic breakdown of what this meant for his career. But Ego’s abrupt shift back to his screens felt like a door slamming shut on an open conversation about potential and promise.

Anri looked at him, a softness in her gaze that contrasted sharply with Ego’s aloofness. Her expression held a mixture of empathy and encouragement, and she nodded ever so slightly, as if saying, ‘Yes, go ahead.’ It was as if she understood the conflict within him, his indecisiveness, his fear, yet she also recognized the importance of forging his own path.

Caught between the realization of this monumental decision and the lack of acknowledgment from his mentor, Isagi felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced back at Ego, half-expecting a deeper conversation to dig into.

But in the blink of an eye, the decision felt heavier. He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to press further, realizing that this was not the moment he had envisioned. Ego’s dismissal turned his conscience into a whirlwind of thoughts, mixing the thrill of opportunity with the sting of rejection—all in the heartbeat of a single moment.

Defeated but resolute, Isagi turned back toward the door. As the heavy weight of expectation shifted from his shoulders to the door handle, he found his footing. This was his choice; he had to own it, even if those in his corner seemed to view it differently. Taking one last glance over his shoulder at the back of Ego’s chair before he stepped outside, he whispered a quiet affirmation to himself. 

His breathing came to a halt.

“No–” He immediately turned back, hurrying back into the room. “I won’t accept! Not yet.”

“Eh–?” Anri looked completely taken aback by the sudden resolution, while Ego didn’t so much as blink, as if expecting the outburst.

“Can they,” he swallowed, “can they wait for me?”

“Of course.” Anri answered, still bewildered by the whole ordeal. “After all, Kaiser also hasn’t accepted them. But keep in mind they might change the offer, for better or for worse.”

Isagi shook his head violently, “no, no, money isn’t the issue.” He looked at his jersey, fumbling with the hem of it, “I have one request though…” he shyly asked.

— — — — — 

“Do you think he’ll accept?” one of the teammates asked, a hint of anxiety coloring his voice as they huddled in the common area, their eyes darting toward Ego’s closed door.

“Only an idiot would be dumb enough to turn down La Re Al,” another chimed in, crossing his arms defiantly as confidence radiated from him. 

“He’ll get to see my sweet Sae! How lucky!” one of them exclaimed, their voice brimming with hope, almost dreamlike in its enthusiasm.

“I doubt he’ll go just for the sake of Sae Itoshi,” a skeptical voice broke in.

“Yeah right!” another teammate scoffed, laughter rippling through the room, the mood lightening despite the earlier tension.

“...” The conversation fell into a stunned silence, the room hanging in suspended disbelief. It was unclear what they should be most shocked about—Isagi seemingly materializing out of thin air or the revelation that one of their own had taken a leap for the oldest Itoshi.

Isagi smiled gently at the group, his demeanor serene. However, there was a hint of sadness lingering in the depths of his eyes, remnants of the earlier interaction with Ego sitting heavily on his mind. “Hey guys,” he greeted, trying to shake off the weight.

“Yocchan!” Bachira’s enthusiastic voice cut through the air as he scampered over, wrapping both arms around him in an exuberant hug. “Is it true? Will you really accept their offer?” His innocent excitement was palpable, and Isagi couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter from Bachira’s unfiltered hope.

He sat down, allowing the other to cuddle with him freely. “Well, I thought of going,” Isagi began, his words deepening as he seemingly ignored the buzzing presence of his surrounding teammates who were erupting with various theories and predictions. “But then I thought of how Re Al has turned every member it has into some legend. I won’t go there for an easy getaway; I will go there to beat everyone there.” 

A beat of silence settled in the room after he spoke, the weight of the implications hanging heavily in the space between them.

“So…” Reo finally broke the silence, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Did you accept?”

Isagi’s expression shifted as he locked eyes with Reo for a moment. Then, smiling softly at the excitement emanating from Bachira, he patted his head rhythmically, as if to ease the anticipation in the air. “Nah,” he said simply, a surprising response that sent confusion rippling through the group.

“What?” Yukimiya asked, his voice laced with disbelief, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. It was a question that echoed in the minds of the others as well.

“I… I want to get better. The best,” Isagi pronounced, his voice gaining strength as he leaned into his conviction. “Going there when I can barely beat Kaiser wouldn’t make sense.” He paused, lost in thought, as the weight of his own ambitions pulled at him. “So, I’m going to get some help... and then join Re Al.”

At that, the room collectively turned toward him, confusion etched on their faces, eyes wide and questioning as if he had just revealed a hidden strategy in an intense match.

— — — — — 

Sae was a naturally busy man. 

His life was a perpetual whirlwind of training sessions, match analysis, and the intricate strategies that governed them. The world of football was demanding, but he thrived in it, driven by an insatiable desire for perfection and success.

Whether he was training on the pitch or analyzing a match at his apartment, every moment was dedicated to honing his skills. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across his meticulously organized living space, he was immersed in his latest game footage, seeking the tiniest details that could enhance his performance. 

“Good evening. Yes, this is Girolan Dabadie. O-oh! Yes! I will get him on the phone right now! Yes, thank you.” The vibration of urgency in his agent’s voice broke through Sae's concentration. Girolan’s movements were almost frantic as he jotted down notes, his anxious energy palpable in the quiet room. The sudden click of the call disconnecting made Girolan flinch lightly, and Sae couldn’t help but momentarily pause, eyes still glued to the screen, curiosity piqued.

“Sae.” Girolan called out, his voice laced with a mix of anticipation and worry. “There’s an important meeting with Ego tomorrow; he said it was urgent.” Silence hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Sae felt a flicker of tension in his chest. 

Girolan waited for a response, but the stillness grew deeper, and he stepped back with an exasperated sigh, the sort that hinted at an underlying frustration. If only Sae would show some sign of acknowledgment, of engagement. But the truth was, Sae was lost in his own thoughts, cocooned in the intensity of his focus.

In the room, Sae lay on his bed, scrolling through his phone, but his mind was elsewhere. Intrigue plagued his thoughts; what could Ego possibly want to discuss that warranted such urgency? Was it about Rin? Or, God forbid, Shidou? Anxiety gnawed at him—Ego was not the kind of person to call for pleasantries. He gritted his teeth at the very thought of Shidou and his relentless, abrasive tactics.

As he pondered the possibilities, Sae’s mind drifted towards a certain striker that particularly vaught his eye. 

With renewed determination, he pushed himself off the bed, his brows furrowing in concentration. He hastily opened the door. Girolan stood outside, his expression a mixture of relief and concern. As he caught sight of Sae, he instinctively straightened, ready to relay any details he could gather. 

The next day, everyone awaited with anticipation.

Ego’s familiar, ominous presence at the center of his room, illuminated by the glow of endless screens. Isagi sat stiffly on the edge of a chair to the right, clearly nervous but resolute. 

The door opened with a sharp creak, and Sae Itoshi strolled in with his usual composed demeanor. His gaze immediately scanned the room, pausing briefly on Isagi before settling on Ego.

“Ego,” Sae began, cutting straight to the point. “What’s so urgent?” His voice was calm, but there was a touch of irritation underlying it.

Ego gestured lazily toward Isagi without even looking away from Sae. “He is.”

Sae turned his full attention to the younger striker, his expression unreadable. After the U20 match, it was safe to say Isagi had caught his interest. But, he didn’t want him to sense the slight favoritism towards the sprout head.

“And why, exactly, does this concern me?” Sae asked bluntly.

Before Ego could respond, Isagi stood abruptly, his voice trembling slightly but firm. “I want to train with you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Sae blinked, stunned for a brief second before a smirk crept onto his face, tinged with amusement. “You want to train with me?” Sae repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

“I do.” Isagi nodded firmly. “You’re the best midfielder in the world. And, since you’re on La Re Al, I was hoping you’d prepare me. If I want to grow stronger—if I want to beat everyone in my way—I need to learn from you. Please.”

Sae raised a brow, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “What makes you think I have the time, or the interest, for something like this?” 

Ego interjected, his voice sharp. “Because you don’t have a choice. This isn’t just about Isagi or you, Itoshi. It’s about the bigger picture. You know what Blue Lock stands for—what it’s capable of creating. If you can refine him, even by an inch, we’ll prove once and for all that our methods surpass the traditional framework of football.”

Sae let out a quiet scoff, though a hint of intrigue flickered in his expression. His gaze turned back to Isagi, narrowing slightly as if evaluating him at that moment.

“So this is about your little experiment.” Sae pushed off the doorframe, approaching Isagi, popping Isagi’s little personal bubble once again this week. “Fine. Prove it. Prove to me you’re worth my time.”

He might be a hypocrite, but he wanted to see all that Isagi could offer. He was already proven wrong when he lost to him, and yet… he still wanted Isagi to work for his attention.

But Isagi didn’t waver. “I will. Give me the chance, and I’ll show you.”

Ego groaned at the two, “if you two are done wooing each other, we can start making a schedule.”

“O-oh!” Isagi finally let out his inner fanboy manners, after all, Sae couldn’t back away now. “I was hoping to start immediately! If you can, of course.” He leaned in towards Sae, close enough to feel his breath brushing against his lips.

Sae didn’t flinch, allowing the shorter man to feel comfortable around him.

“No, not today.” He didn’t miss the way Isagi’s eyes fell in disappointment. He turned his head towards Ego, his gaze no longer filled with the same warmth it once had a mere second ago, “my agent will contact you about my schedule. See ya.” Not waiting for anyone to respond, he left the building abruptly.

— — — — — 

“What do you think, Ness?”

“About?”

“Re Al’s sudden proposal. Do you think they’re trying to rile me up?”

“Don’t overthink the situation. It’s simply because Isagi managed to outplay Sae’s younger brother in the game.”

Kaiser hummed, eyeing Ness with a strange look which caused the other to tilt his head in confusion.

“What?” He asked the blonde.

“Nothing,” Kaiser shrugged off,  turning his attention towards the food in front of him, “you’ve just never called Yoichi by his given name.” 

Ness’s expression didn’t change, but Kaiser noticed the small glint of sadness that flashed in his eyes. “That so?” He rhetorically asked.

The two sat in silence, which in other words meant Kaiser stared at Ness while the other at his own food, refusing to make eye contact with him.

The silence stretched, making even the other BM members sitting near them eye them worriedly, Ness finally cleared his throat. “So, will you accept Re Al’s proposal now that Isagi is out of your way?”

“Who said he was out of my way?” Kaiser asked.

“Isn’t he?” He asked, irritation slowly building up again. “Why are you torturing yourself? I can guarantee you that you’re the best already.”

“You’re acting weird, Ness. Did something happen?” He heard Erik next to him say.

Ness narrowed his eyes, “what do you mean?”

No one answered him, they all just looked at him in pity.

The tension between Kaiser and Ness was palpable, thickening the air like a storm about to break. The clinking of utensils and murmurs from the other BM players seemed distant, swallowed up by the unspoken words between the two.

Ness’s voice cut through the strained quiet, brittle and defensive. “What do you mean, ‘acting weird’? I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

Kaiser tilted his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing as he studied Ness. His expression was unreadable, calm on the surface but laced with something sharper beneath. "You're anxious, Ness. That's not like you."

Ness’s knuckles tightened around the edge of his plate. "I'm not anxious," he snapped, though his tone betrayed him. "I’m just tired of you doubting yourself. You are the best, Kaiser. Why do you always need to prove it to people who aren’t worth your time?"

Kaiser leaned back in his chair, unfazed. He rested his chin on his palm, staring at Ness with a mix of anger and curiosity. “Isagi isn’t worth my time? Is that what you think?”

Ness hesitated for a moment before nodding. "He's not. He's talented, sure. Persistent, annoyingly so. But compared to you? He’s still chasing the stars you’ve already reached. You don’t need to waste time on someone who will never catch up."

The words spilled out in a rush, laced with bitterness, but Kaiser remained silent, his gaze unflinching. The moment stretched as the tension between them grew heavier, suffocating the space around them.

One of their teammates, Theo, shifted uncomfortably, his chair creaking. "Ness, you're really laying it on thick," he muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Ness.

"You think I’m being dramatic?” Ness shot back, his voice rising slightly. He looked around at the other players. “You all act like you’re fine with Isagi waltzing in here, disrupting everything. Taking up his attention—”

“That’s enough, Ness.” Kaiser’s tone was sharp now, cutting through the room like a blade.

Ness’s mouth snapped shut as his gaze fell to the table. The other players exchanged uneasy glances, clearly wanting to be anywhere else but there. For a moment, the room was silent again. Then Kaiser stood up, towering over Ness. The weight of his presence made the tension almost unbearable.

“You think this is about attention?” Kaiser said, his voice low but crackling with intensity. “It’s not. Isagi is a competition. A challenge. He’s someone who makes me better, whether you like it or not.”

Ness looked up at him, his expression a mix of frustration and hurt. "I just want you to win. To be the best, always."

“And you think avoiding challenges is how I do that?” Kaiser shook his head, a humorless smile on his lips. “You’re wrong, Ness. Winning without risk is meaningless. And until Isagi stops proving he's worth my time...” He turned to walk away. "...I’ll keep knocking him down.”

Kaiser’s departure left a heavy silence in the room. Ness sat frozen, staring down at his untouched food. The pitying glances from the other players stung more than he wanted to admit.

Erik leaned over slightly, his voice soft. “Maybe you should tell him what’s really bothering you.” Ness’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his heart heavy as he watched the door swing shut behind Kaiser.

Kaiser was never one to think with his heart, nor did he care to.

He wanted him to just realize, that maybe, this isn’t just a ‘challenge’, that the reason for his sudden attachment to the sprout-head was more than an obstacle. Ness knew, the rest of the team knew, everyone with eyes knew. 

Kaiser needed Isagi around for motivation. 

Kaiser needed Isagi.

Not to mention the fight during the PxG match.

It reminded everyone on the team just how Kaiser still is. And for the first time, they can safely say it was related to Isagi. 

— — — — —

“We should celebrate!” Yukimiya yelled, his composed demeanor cracking open like sunlight breaking through the clouds, revealing the rare sight of unrestrained excitement. His smile was genuine, contagious, and proud.

Beside him, Hiori nodded aggressively, almost bouncing in place. “Ego mentioned we’ll be getting an entire week off for completing Phase Two!” His eyes glimmered with enthusiasm, a spark that contrasted starkly with the usual soft-spoken energy he carried.

“Only?!” Raichi’s booming voice overpowered the rising noise in the room. He groaned dramatically as he threw himself onto the nearest couch, sprawling across it like a lazy king. “We deserve at least two weeks for carrying Blue Lock on our backs!”

“Well, it’s not just about us,” Kiyora reasoned, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. His tone was measured, pragmatic as always. “Ego doesn’t want us losing momentum by staying idle for too long. A week’s long enough to reset, not slack off.”

“Well, obviously that’s because Ego knows I’ll be carrying Phase Three too,” Raichi shot back with his trademark bravado, arms folded across his chest.

“Keep dreaming,” Kiyora quipped, eyes not leaving his friend, Kurona, but his smirk visible to all.

“What do you think the next phase will be?” Kurona’s soft voice cut through the banter.

They all hummed in thought, Ego has always been unpredictable, guessing what he might do was next to impossible, they’d rather think of where to celebrate. 

Isagi’s face lit up with excitement, eyes gleaming as he shot forward in his seat. “There’s this café near a mall I always go to! It’s seriously the best—tasty, cozy, and to die for!” His words tumbled out with the enthusiasm of someone reliving a cherished memory. As he spoke, he kept adding more and more details—how the atmosphere was perfect for unwinding, how the desserts were unmatched, how he always went there whenever he wanted to relax or hang out with Navitsu.

The second that name left his lips, a noticeable shift rippled through the room. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was there. A stiffening of shoulders. The way some players averted their eyes. The way others exchanged brief, uncertain glances, an unspoken tension tightening the air. No one said anything. No one acknowledged it. As if not addressing it would erase the weight the name carried.

But Isagi didn’t notice. Or maybe he did, and just chose to pretend he didn’t. “Let’s go there and celebrate,” he concluded, still wearing the same easy-going smile.

Raichi, ever the instigator, leaned back with a smug grin. “Will the Germans be there?”

Yukimiya shot him a sharp look. “Of course, we’re a team.” His words carried an edge, a pointed reminder.

Raichi only scoffed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Hiori, who had been quietly observing the exchange, subtly shifted his gaze to Isagi. He half-expected some kind of reaction, maybe a deadpan remark, maybe a dry joke about Kaiser jumping off a cliff. That was normal for Isagi.

But this time? Nothing.

His expression didn’t falter, his posture didn’t shift. He looked… normal. Too normal.

Hiori frowned. It wasn’t just the quietness or the distance—it was the way he seemed to slip away mid-conversation, the way his usual sharpness had dulled into something harder to read. The way he didn’t even react when Kaiser’s name was thrown around.

The conversation carried on, bouncing back and forth between details—time, place, who to invite.

And in the end, they came to a decision.

They were going to invite everyone. Anyone and everyone. No exceptions. The more, the merrier.

They would meet as soon as they could—the day after their break.

And at the place Isagi allegedly went on ‘dates’ with their number one public enemy. 

They sent the invites and awaited the day.

Oh how Isagi wished it never came.

The first to arrive were Isagi and Navitsu, seated in their usual corner, lost in conversation as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. They spoke in low, animated voices, their laughter blending seamlessly with the soft hum of the café. The warm glow of vintage lamps cast golden hues on their faces, making the moment feel almost timeless, like they were reliving a cherished memory rather than merely catching up.

The second to arrive was Barou, alone.

Isagi spotted him first, his sharp gaze picking him out from the small crowd filtering through the café’s entrance. He waved, beaming, completely unfazed by the way Barou scoffed, his expression twisting in barely concealed irritation. The self-proclaimed king stomped toward them with all the grace of a storm rolling in.

“Couldn’t pick a shittier café?” Barou grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Isagi huffed, leaning back against the worn-out booth. “Don’t be rude. It’s vintage.” He lifted his arm lazily to flag down a waiter, as if to emphasize his point.

But Barou was no longer listening. His gaze had locked onto the other boy sitting beside Isagi—Navitsu, whose arm was draped casually over Isagi’s shoulders. It wasn’t just a friendly touch, either; it was effortless, relaxed, possessive in a way that made Barou’s stomach twist uncomfortably. His jaw tensed, and he scoffed again, louder this time.

“Lost my appetite,” he muttered, dropping onto the seat across from them. His glare flickered toward the door, silently wishing someone would show up and spare him from whatever this was.

As if on cue, the door chimed, and in walked a small group from Manshine City—Chigiri, Reo, and Nagi.

The café’s warm lighting illuminated Chigiri’s striking red hair as he scanned the room, immediately locking eyes with Isagi. He gestured for the others to follow, weaving past tables with practiced ease. Barou groaned internally. If he thought the situation was bad before, it had just gotten exponentially worse.

The greetings exchanged were casual, the usual playful jabs and sarcastic remarks filling the air. However, Reo, unlike the others, had a different target in mind. He slid into the seat directly across from Navitsu, his sharp violet eyes flickering to where the blonde’s arm still rested around Isagi before quickly redirecting his gaze.

“Sup, Suko.”

Navitsu groaned instantly, rubbing his temple as if just hearing the name gave him a headache. “Don’t call me that,” he grumbled. “You of all people should know how awful it is to be called by your last name.” With a heavy sigh, he added, “And hello to you too, I guess.”

Reo smirked, unfazed by the attitude. “Nagi said you wanted to see us.”

At that, Navitsu tensed slightly, his fingers flexing against Isagi’s shoulder before he quickly withdrew his hand. His face flushed, and he made a point to avoid looking at Isagi altogether. “Well, yeah,” he admitted. “He said you and Chigiri had a small… thing that belongs to me.”

The words made Chigiri and Reo exchange glances, clearly not liking where this conversation was heading. Chigiri was the first to break the silence, leaning forward slightly.

“So… you’re Isagi’s secret admirer?”

Navitsu stiffened, eyes immediately darkening with annoyance. “Not at all,” he scoffed. “It’s just a gift.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’d like to have it back, please.”

But the other two weren’t looking at him anymore. Their gazes had shifted toward Isagi, who, oblivious to the sudden tension at their table, was busy trying—and failing—to mediate between Nagi and Barou. The two were bickering over something trivial, their sharp words barely registering in Isagi’s ears as he struggled to keep the peace.

Navitsu followed their stares instinctively—and then he saw it.

Hanging around Isagi’s neck was the very necklace he thought he had lost.

The sight made him pause.

For a second, the world around him faded, the noise of the café turning into a distant hum. The silver chain caught the light just enough to glimmer softly against the navy of Isagi’s shirt, as if to mock him. A ghost of a smile tugged at Navitsu’s lips, his earlier irritation momentarily forgotten.

So Isagi still had it.

And he was wearing it.

Navitsu’s heart clenched.

For the first time that night, he didn’t know if that made him feel triumphant—

Or like a complete idiot.

A few hours later, the café had transformed into a chaotic, bustling hub of voices and laughter. More and more players trickled in, filling the already-cramped space to capacity. Their table was, without a doubt, the loudest in the entire café, their conversations cutting through the warm hum of background music and the clatter of dishes. Even if they tried to be quiet, they would fail inevitably—it was simply in their nature.

Shidou, as expected, was reveling in the mayhem.

“I can’t believe little Yoi got an offer before me!” he exclaimed, throwing an arm around Isagi’s shoulders with a lazy grin. His sharp teeth glinted under the café lights, mischief practically dripping from his voice.

Isagi sighed, already exhausted by the blond’s antics, but Shidou, being Shidou, took that as encouragement rather than dismissal. His grin widened, and his fingers drummed lightly against Isagi’s shoulder.

“So,” he drawled, tilting his head with a teasing smirk, “how exactly are you gonna get help, huh?”

“Excuse me?” Isagi blinked, momentarily thrown off.

Shidou purred, leaning in just slightly. “You said you wanted help,” he reminded him. “Then join Re Al.”

It took Isagi a second to piece together what he meant before realization hit. “Oh! I asked Ego to arrange some practice lessons with Sae,” he explained casually, waving a hand. The words had barely left his mouth before a voice; low, dark, and laced with something razor-sharp—cut through the noise like a blade.

“Excuse me?”

The air at the table shifted.

The sound was sharp enough to slice through the chaos, making conversations die mid-sentence. Heads turned, gazes snapping toward the source. Standing at the entrance, backlit by the café’s warm glow, was Michael Kaiser.

The air seemed to tighten.

“Kaiser?” Kurona was the first to speak, blinking in surprise. He knew Yukimiya had invited him, but he never actually thought he’d show up.

Yet, Kaiser wasn’t looking at him.

He wasn’t looking at any of them.

His piercing blue eyes were locked onto one person, and one person only.

Isagi.

And god, was he livid.

His expression was carefully neutral, but anyone who knew him, truly knew him, could see the tension coiled in his jaw, the way his fingers curled just slightly, as if resisting the urge to clench into fists. His shoulders were rigid beneath his jacket, and the intensity of his stare was suffocating, as if he was trying to burn holes straight through Isagi.

For a moment, no one dared to speak.

Isagi felt the weight of Kaiser’s gaze settle over him, and a flicker of confusion flashed across his features. “Uh… what?”

Kaiser scoffed, stepping closer. Slow. Deliberate.

“You,” he said, voice quieter this time, but no less dangerous, “asked Ego to set up training sessions with Sae?” He said the name like it was something vile on his tongue.

Isagi’s brows furrowed, oblivious to the reason there was tension spiking in the room. “Yeah?”

Something flickered behind Kaiser’s eyes, something dark, something dangerous. His lips curled into a smirk, but it was sharp, bitter, laced with something venomous.

“How cute,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “You’re running off to another genius now?”

That was when it clicked. Isagi stiffened. Kaiser wasn’t just angry. He was… he couldn’t find the right word…

Shidou, ever the chaos-seeker, leaned forward, eyes glittering with amusement. “Ooooh?” he hummed, grinning. “What’s this? Kaiser, are you jealous?”

Kaiser’s gaze snapped to him, sharp as a dagger.

“Shut up.”

Shidou just cackled.

Isagi, however, still looked confused. “Kaiser, it’s just training. Why are you making such a big deal—”

“You really are an idiot,” Kaiser cut him off, tone sharp enough to draw blood.

“Watch your mouth–” Isagi tried to press but was interrupted rudely.

He stepped even closer now, towering over Isagi, forcing him to tilt his head to maintain eye contact. His voice dropped lower, just for him to hear.

“You’re mine to crush,” Kaiser murmured, his smirk faltering, but his eyes giving away the dark anger simmering beneath the surface. “Not to Sae. Not to anyone else. Got it?”

And suddenly, Isagi wasn’t so sure if this café was warm because of the lights—

Or because of the fire burning behind Kaiser’s eyes.

Anger started babbling up inside of him, he could tell Navitsu was ready to defend him, but the thought made him see red. Something about what Kaiser was saying made him frustrated; rightfully so. 

A voice interrupted them, “not this again, please.” Hiori pleaded. The others nodded, too tired to stop them.

Isagi looked back and saw their now indifference, he finally tsked’ and began munching on his dessert. 

The night pressed on, and despite their best efforts to move past the earlier exchange, there was an undeniable weight lingering in the air—something that clung stubbornly to the atmosphere like the last remnants of a storm.

Kaiser, for all his outward bravado, was still visibly simmering, his sharp blue gaze cutting through the lighthearted banter like a cold knife. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the wooden table, slow, deliberate, almost as if he were counting down the seconds before he made another move.

But Isagi?

He wasn’t paying attention.

No, his attention had long since drifted elsewhere—to the presence at his side, the warmth that had so easily settled against him.

Navitsu.

It should’ve been surprising how quickly things fell back into place, how naturally they slipped into easy closeness again. But Isagi didn’t question it. Especially not when Navitsu, without hesitation, draped his arm around him once more, his grip just firm enough to be grounding.

Isagi let himself sink into the touch, the simple, unspoken comfort of it. It felt right. Easy. And in the moment, he thought, God, I’m lucky.

And yet—he could feel it.

Two sets of eyes burning into him, lingering, watching.

Shidou.

And Kaiser.

One held a glint of mischief, something playful, teasing, as if waiting for the perfect opportunity to stir the pot once more. 

The other?

Oh, the other was not so friendly.

Kaiser’s gaze was heavier, darker, a silent accusation wrapped in barely restrained possessiveness. He wasn’t the type to throw a fit—not publicly, at least. No, he preferred to play the long game, letting his anger simmer, waiting for the right moment to strike.

And Isagi could feel it. The weight of unspoken words hanging between them, the storm brewing behind Kaiser’s cool exterior.

But before the tension could thicken any further, Reo, ever the opportunist, leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he lazily chewed a bite of his food. “You know,” he started, his voice slow, calculated, like he was savoring the words before saying them, “come to think about it…”

His gaze flickered between Isagi and Navitsu, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I thought you two got into a fight,” he mused, raising a single finger to point between them. “Why are you all lovey-dovey now?”

The words sent a ripple through the group.

Isagi barely had a chance to react before he felt the subtle shift in Navitsu beside him. The moment Reo’s words settled, Navitsu tensed, so slight that most wouldn’t have caught it—but Isagi did.

Without missing a beat, he reached over, patting Navitsu’s shoulder lightly, reassuringly, before offering Reo a small, knowing smile. “It was just a misunderstanding,” he said simply, voice even, unbothered. “We know better than to let trivial matters—” A sudden, sharp crack echoed through the air. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was noticeable enough that several heads turned, eyes scanning for the source. “—get in the way.”

Reo, either completely oblivious or very aware of what he was doing, pressed on. “In the way of what?” he prodded, curiosity dripping from his tone.

“Reo.” Chigiri’s warning came swiftly, his sharp red eyes cutting through the space between them.

“What?” Reo huffed, rolling his eyes. “We can’t talk about Re Al, we can’t talk about Navitsu. Why bother coming to celebrate?”

“You just came for drama,” Chigiri deadpanned, unimpressed.

Kurona, who had been quietly observing, hummed in agreement. “Yeah, maybe worry about your relationship instead.” Kurona barely had time to process the comment before a piece of bread came flying across the table, landing squarely against his forehead with a soft thud.

The table erupted into laughter.

Kurona, unfazed, blinked before turning to Reo with an exaggerated scowl. “Did you seriously just throw bread at me?”

Reo shrugged, smirking. “You had it coming.”

“Wow. Rude and immature.”

“You didn’t let Isagi answer my question,” Reo retorted, reaching out to playfully grab Kurona’s cheek, tugging at it in mock-scolding.

Navitsu, who had remained mostly quiet throughout the exchange, suddenly let out a small chuckle. It was soft, barely noticeable amidst the noise, but Isagi caught it. He turned slightly, glancing at Navitsu, who had a half-smile tugging at his lips, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of his glass.

Isagi nudged him lightly. “See? Even you’re enjoying yourself.”

Navitsu scoffed, shaking his head. “I guess it’s not the worst way to spend a night.”

“Admit it,” Isagi grinned, “you missed this.”

A pause.

Navitsu’s eyes flickered, expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, tilting his head slightly.

“…Yeah.” His voice was quieter, more sincere. “Maybe I did.”

But before the conversation could turn any more sentimental, Shidou—who had been way too quiet for way too long—leaned forward, propping his chin on his palm with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, alright,” he drawled, dragging out the words. “All this cute little bonding is adorable and all, but…” His eyes twinkled with mischief as he tilted his head.

He turned to Kaiser, who had been silently brooding this entire time, his expression unreadable, save for the occasional flicker of irritation dancing behind his sharp gaze.

Shidou smirked.

“…You haven’t said much, Blondie.”

The table groaned.

A small, dangerous smile curled at the corner of Kaiser’s lips.

“Oh?” he murmured, voice low, almost amused.

Shidou shrugged. “I mean, your golden boy here—” he gestured lazily toward Isagi, “—is out here getting real cozy, making all sorts of new ‘training’ plans.” He placed deliberate emphasis on the word training, eyes glinting with amusement.

Kaiser’s smile didn’t falter, but the sharp glint in his eyes darkened.

“I don’t waste my breath on insignificant things,” he said smoothly, though there was an unmistakable bite to his words.

Isagi sighed, rubbing his temples. “Okay, enough.”

Kaiser merely chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

“Oh, Yoichi,” he murmured, resting his chin on his palm as he tilted his head. “You really do love testing my patience.”

Shidou let out a bark of laughter. “See? This is what I came for.”

Kaiser exhaled sharply, rubbing at his eyes in pure exasperation. The night had already drained him, but now—now, this was just getting ridiculous. The tension clung to the air like a suffocating mist, thick and inescapable, seeping into the very fabric of the conversation.

But just as he was about to fire back, a light pressure settled on his thigh. His body tensed. He didn’t even have to look down to know who it was. Ness. The touch was gentle but firm, a silent plea, a subtle tether meant to ground him before he completely lost himself in his temper.

‘Not here. Not now.’

Ness didn’t say a word, only shook his head slightly, his eyes practically begging Kaiser to let it go, to not make this worse than it already was. For a fleeting second, Kaiser considered it.

And then, just as quickly, he shoved Ness’s hand off, his patience splintering into nothing. “Just who the hell is this random Natsu anyway?” Kaiser scoffed, the bitterness in his tone evident.

Karasu, who had been casually watching, snickered, pointing lazily. “Nah, man, you’re thinking of the anime character.”

Beside him, Hiori elbowed him sharply. “Not the time, Karasu.”

Isagi narrowed his eyes, confusion flickering across his face. Kaiser rolled his own in response, letting out a low, irritated hum.

“Is he really what you’d settle for?” His voice was quiet, but the venom laced in his words was undeniable. His gaze never wavered, locked onto Isagi’s with an almost dangerous intensity. “What a waste.”

It was a blatant insult, a challenge disguised as an offhand remark, but Isagi refused to take the bait. At least, he tried. He could feel irritation bubbling under his skin, raw and unyielding. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay composed.

But before he could even attempt a response, a new voice cut through the rising tension.

“Oh, please.” The smirk on Navitsu’s face was sharp, unrelenting. “We’re just friends, Kaiser. No need to get all hot and bothered over it.” The casual delivery, the sheer arrogance of it—Kaiser’s fingers twitched against the table. Navitsu leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with something almost predatory. “Not like it would make a difference, though…” And then, he said it. “After all, Yoichi wouldn’t choose you if you were the last person alive.”

Isagi’s stomach twisted.

This wasn’t defending him.

This wasn’t about him.

No—Navitsu was provoking Kaiser. Taunting him. And worst of all? It was working.

Kaiser’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles stark white against the dim lighting of the café. Still, he said nothing. So, Navitsu took that as an invitation to continue.

“You act like you own Yoichi.” His voice was quieter now, more deliberate, each word laced with something dark and knowing. “Do you even know why he came to Blue Lock in the first place?”

A flicker of something crossed Kaiser’s face—just for a second. But it was enough.

Hiori, who had been silently observing the exchange, suddenly stiffened. He sees it too. He could see the barely concealed panic in Isagi’s expression, the way his hands clenched into tight fists against his lap. He didn’t want this conversation to happen. He didn’t want this to come out.

“Navitsu—”

But it was too late.

Navitsu’s smirk deepened, and the words left his lips like a death sentence.

“Because of me.”

Kaiser’s expression didn’t change—not outwardly. But something about him became impossibly still, a predator coiled tightly before striking.

Isagi swallowed hard, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him like a vice.

Navitsu leaned back, exuding a quiet confidence, his eyes never once leaving Kaiser’s. “Yoichi was only ever encouraged to push harder each day, while thinking of me.” His voice was unwavering, steady, ruthless. “You think you hold so much importance in his life?” A scoff. “He’ll beat better players. Join better teams. And forget you even existed.”

The words struck like a hammer, precise and brutal.

And then—

The final blow.

“At the first sight of a better player, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi chose him to train him, trusting a mere midfielder over your so-called God-given prowess.”

That was it.

The moment the words left Navitsu’s mouth, the atmosphere shattered.

A chair scraped harshly against the floor as Kaiser pushed back, his body language a clear warning.

Several players stood up instinctively, their movements sharp, tense, and ready to intervene.

Because they knew. They knew what was about to happen. 

Kaiser exhaled sharply, his breath slow, measured, his gaze fixed on Navitsu like a wolf sizing up its prey. “Careful,” he murmured, voice dangerously low, almost mocking. “You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Navitsu’s smirk twitched.

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it?”

A pause.

Isagi felt his pulse hammering in his ears, his body frozen in place.

Kaiser’s eyes found themselves sneaking a glance at the panicked striker, he looked heartbroken, as if what Navitsu had just done betrayed all he had built up. The sight made his heart tighten.

Kaiser’s lips curled up, but it wasn’t a smile. Not a real one, at least.

A flicker of amusement danced in his icy blue eyes, but beneath it lay something darker—something more venomous. The table felt suffocatingly small, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on everyone like an invisible force. Even those who had no personal stake in the rivalry were drawn into the tension, watching like spectators to an inevitable clash.

Navitsu, smirking like he already won, leaned back in his seat, his arm still draped lazily around Isagi’s shoulders. He relished the way Kaiser’s jaw tensed, the way his fingers twitched as if itching to wrap around something—someone.

“Kaiser,” Ness called out, voice careful, but it was clear he was already prepared to intervene if needed.

Kaiser ignored him.

“Is that right?” Kaiser mused, cocking his head slightly, eyes locked onto Navitsu like a predator eyeing its prey. His voice was pleasant, almost too pleasant, coated in a thin layer of mockery. “You think you’re the reason Isagi pushes himself so hard? Cute.”

Navitsu raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Not ‘think,’ blondie. I know.”

Kaiser’s fingers curled into a fist beneath the table, his other hand gripping the edge of his seat. But his smile remained, even as his patience thinned. The air crackled with the kind of hostility that wasn’t loud or explosive—it was far more dangerous. It simmered, waiting for just the right moment to boil over.

“Yoichi,” Kaiser finally said, shifting his gaze to Isagi, who had been silent for far too long. “Is that true?”

Isagi stiffened.

All eyes were on him now, his teammates, his rivals, even the cafe staff who had started pretending to clean a single table for far too long just to eavesdrop.

Isagi hated this. He hated being put on the spot, being forced to validate someone’s ego in a battle he never wanted to be a part of. But most of all, he hated the way both Navitsu and Kaiser were acting like he was something to own.

He opened his mouth, unsure of what he would say—

CLATTER.

“Oops.”

A fork clattered to the floor, and everyone turned to see Shidou stretching, an exaggerated grin on his face. He bent down leisurely to pick it up, but his movements were slow, deliberate, his presence a reminder that he was very much enjoying the show.

“Damn,” he drawled, twirling the fork in his fingers as he propped his chin up with his free hand. “This is fun. Keep going.”

“You’re not helping,” Chigiri sighed, arms crossed.

“I’m not trying to,” Shidou countered, flashing a sharp grin. “C’mon, don’t stop now. I wanna see who breaks first.”

“Enough,” Reo cut in, shaking his head. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“It was ridiculous the moment Kaiser walked in,” Kurona muttered under his breath.

Kaiser, still eerily composed, exhaled sharply. “Yoichi,” he repeated, voice softer this time. But there was something else in it now, just a little desperate, a little vulnerable. “Say something.”

Isagi clenched his fists.

What was he supposed to say? That Navitsu was right? That Kaiser was right? That neither of them were?

His silence only made things worse.

“I don’t like the way you’re treating him,” Hiori suddenly spoke up, voice cutting through the tension like a knife. His eyes were sharp as they flickered between Navitsu and Kaiser. “Isagi’s not some prize to be won.”

“Thank you,” Isagi muttered under his breath, relieved that someone finally said it.

Navitsu scoffed. “No one said he was—”

“You’re acting like it,” Karasu pointed out, stretching his arms behind his head. “Both of you.”

“You’re deflecting,” Kaiser accused, but his eyes were still fixed on Isagi, reading every twitch of his expression, every flicker of hesitation. And then, just as Kaiser was about to push further, someone laughed. It was low, quiet at first, then it grew louder.

“Damn.” Shidou’s lips curled as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with something akin to wicked delight.  “You two are pathetic.”

Kaiser’s gaze snapped to him, but Shidou wasn’t done. He jabbed his fork into a piece of his croissant, chewing thoughtfully before continuing.

“Both of you are so busy fighting over who means more to Isagi, but you don’t even realize—”

The table stilled.

“—there’s already a winner.”

The words sent a ripple through the group, some confused, some intrigued. Kaiser’s fingers twitched. “What?”

Navitsu’s smirk faltered just a little. “What are you talking about?”

Shidou grinned, dragging it out. He looked at Isagi, eyes full of mischief, before finally answering.

“You two are so caught up in your own egos,” he mused, “you don’t even realize Isagi’s already chosen someone else.”

Dead silence.

The tension, already suffocating, turned unbearable.

Everyone turned to look at Isagi again, who had gone impossibly still.

Navitsu frowned, trying to brush it off. “Is that so?”

Kaiser didn’t move. He just stared, as if trying to read the truth directly from Isagi’s soul.

And Isagi?

He said nothing.

Judging by the way Shidou threw his head back and laughed like he had just won the lottery, he caught it too.

The real winner?

Neither of them.

But someone else entirely.

This is chapter 5

1, 2, 3, 4, <- 5 -> 6

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 4 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 4:

“Do you think he should keep that on?” Anri asked as she eyed Isagi, disapproval visible on her face. She stared at the screen, her eyes lingering on the figure of Isagi walking beside Kaiser, even though there was no audio, it was clear that the silence between them was almost palpable. 

There was something in his posture, something she couldn’t quite place, that felt different. Determined, maybe? More certain? She didn’t know, but her unease grew with every second. “But it’s just a necklace,” Anri repeated, her voice wavering a little. 

Ego sighed, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t immediately respond, instead continuing to eat his food, his gaze still fixed on the screen. “It’s never just a necklace, Anri,” he said flatly, his tone suddenly more serious. “Look at him.”

She frowned, her gaze reluctantly shifting to Isagi, trying to decipher what was so important about him walking next to Kaiser. Kaiser was quiet, though there was a certain glint in his eyes as he looked down at Isagi. The difference between them was clear, but still, it wasn’t just the external rivalry that caught her attention.

“What am I looking at?” she asked, a hint of frustration in her voice.

Ego gave her a tired, almost pitying look before answering. “Idiot. Just when was the last time you saw Isagi Yoichi this determined? Since the U-20 match?” He lifted his chopsticks and gestured toward the screen, where Isagi’s expression had a soft, calm look.

Anri’s mind raced, and a memory surfaced of their past conversations. She remembered when she’d questioned if Isagi even belonged in Blue Lock anymore, unsure of whether he had the drive to push forward. He’d seemed so... lost. But now, standing next to Kaiser, the doubt and hesitation that used to cloud his every move seemed to be gone.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, the words tasting hollow as she tried to grasp what was happening.

Ego leaned forward, suddenly more intense, his eyes never leaving the screen. “You think this is just about physical strength, Anri?” he asked, his tone sharp. “Isagi’s always had strength. That’s never been the issue. But mental strength? That’s where he falters.” He let out a small, frustrated sound before continuing. “He’s fragile up here,” Ego said, tapping his temple with a finger. “But that necklace... It's not about sentimentality. It’s a crutch. He’s clinging to it because it’s his anchor to a past version of himself, the one that doubted and didn’t know if he had what it takes.”

Anri blinked, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. “Are you saying the necklace is holding him back?” she asked, her voice small.

Ego didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned slightly toward her, his eyes sharp with something darker. “It’s not the necklace. It’s what it represents. You’ve seen him struggle with who he was and who he wants to be, haven’t you? He simply needs to realize that he should let go of it.”

Ego's voice dropped lower, the intensity of his gaze on Isagi unwavering. “Give it time. Just wait until he faces Rin again. He’ll surpass all of them. He just has to let go. All the way. Of the necklace, of the past... everything.”

Anri thought about the last time she’d seen Isagi so intense—so focused. It had been during the U-20 match. Ego’s words stirred something in her, a realization that maybe, just maybe, Isagi was on the cusp of something far greater than she had imagined.

Ego didn’t look at her. Instead, he merely smiled—a cold, knowing smile. “You will. Just watch. He’s not the same player he was when he first walked into Blue Lock. And soon, you’ll see what he’s truly capable of.”

Anri let out a heavy sigh, her mind full of questions. But one thing was becoming clear: Isagi Yoichi was no longer just a player in Blue Lock. He was becoming something far more dangerous—and far more impressive. If Ego’s theory was right, Isagi’s battle with Rin would not only be a test of skill, but a battle of wills.

And this time, Anri wasn’t sure who would come out on top.

Suddenly, she felt movement in the corner of her eyes. Kaiser was now holding onto his leg while his face scrunched in a frustrated look. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, trying to stretch it out, but the cramp only worsened, causing him to collapse onto the ground with a grunt of frustration. His usual demeanor faltered for a brief moment, and for a second, he looked... vulnerable. His face scrunched in pain, a sharp contrast to the flawless façade he typically wore. 

The pain made him momentarily forget about the other striker in the hallway.

Isagi, who had been observing the scene unfold, looked at him hold his leg. His first instinct was to keep his distance, Kaiser had never shown much tolerance for his help before, but something in the way Kaiser was clutching his leg, his face contorted in frustration, made him pause.

"Hey," Isagi called out, his voice louder than usual. “You okay?”

Kaiser’s teeth clenched as he attempted to stand, but the cramp shot through him again, making him collapse back down, the frustration evident in the way he cursed under his breath.

“Just... give me a second,” Kaiser snapped, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

Isagi hesitated, he couldn’t just leave him like that. They may not have been close, but Isagi wasn’t heartless. Without thinking much more about it, he walked over to Kaiser, crouching beside him.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Isagi said, his voice softer than before. "You should stretch more before going all out like that."

Kaiser shot him an irritated look, but the pain was too much to ignore. He gritted his teeth and tried to push him away, but his body simply refused to cooperate. “I don’t need your advice, Yoichi,” he snapped, but the words lost their usual sting, coming out more strained than intended. His hand gripped his leg, as if trying to force the cramp away.

Isagi didn’t back off. Instead, he reached down, his fingers gently brushing against Kaiser’s tense muscles, seeking the source of the cramp. “Let me help,” he said, his tone still soft, but firm. "You’re not gonna get through this by just glaring at it."

Kaiser froze, his body stiffening at the unexpected contact. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, he didn’t push Isagi away. Maybe it was the fact that his leg was cramping so badly he couldn’t focus on anything else, or maybe it was the look of pettiness in Isagi’s eyes that he wasn’t used to seeing.

Isagi’s fingers moved with surprising care, massaging the muscle in slow, deliberate circles. The tension in Kaiser’s leg started to ease, and with each pass of his hand, the pain gradually lessened. Kaiser’s breath, which had been shallow and ragged, slowed as the cramp began to release.

"Shit, this is... annoying," Kaiser muttered under his breath, but his voice was quieter now, less biting. The words were edged with frustration, but there was no venom behind them.

Isagi chuckled lightly, pulling back his hand once the cramp had fully subsided. “You’re supposed to be a professional athlete, you know too much training is no better than no training.”

Kaiser didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flickered from Isagi to his own leg, still in disbelief at how much better it felt. The pain had mostly subsided, but there was something more subtle at play now. 

Isagi stood up, brushing his hands off casually. "Just... try not to overdo it next time. We don’t need you limping around in the middle of a match."

Kaiser leaned back on his elbows, eyeing him with an expression that was harder to read than usual. There was no mockery in his gaze, no arrogance, just an odd kind of quiet. “As if you’ll play.”

“Of course I will.” Isagi said with determination, “make sure not to disappoint me though.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The air was thick with an unsaid understanding—something rare between them, something that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between them before.

Isagi glanced at Kaiser again, still feeling a little unsure of himself. Kaiser had always been the type to brush off kindness, to hide any hint of vulnerability behind a sharp remark or a mocking smile. But this time, there was none of that.

“Well, I’ll let you rest,” Isagi said, stepping back. “But don’t think I’m going easy on you in the next drill.”

Kaiser didn’t respond right away, but as Isagi turned to walk away, he caught a glimpse of Kaiser’s eyes—a fleeting, almost imperceptible softness in them. Kaiser’s lips twitched in something close to a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t get cocky,” Kaiser muttered, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

— — — — —

The room was filled with the sounds of the hairdryer’s gentle hum as Chigiri carefully ran it through his damp, freshly-washed hair. He stood in front of the mirror, his expression absent as he tried to tame the damp strands into something resembling order. The warm air from the dryer mixed with the lingering humidity in the room, and the scent of soap and shampoo hung in the air. Reo, sitting at the edge of the bed, was sprawled out, his limbs stretched lazily as he flopped backward on the mattress with an exaggerated groan. He stared at the ceiling with a bored, almost defeated look on his face.

“I can’t believe you made me shower with the others,” Reo grumbled, voice muffled slightly by his plush pillow. 

Chigiri didn’t even glance over, his focus entirely on getting his hair to cooperate. “We had to formulate a strategy for our next match,” he replied vaguely, his voice smooth but tinged with the usual level of detached practicality. He tossed his towel to the side and picked up the hairdryer again, running it through his hair with a practiced hand, completely at ease.

Reo just grunted in response, still more annoyed than he probably needed to be about the shared shower, but it was clear his mind wasn’t really on the topic. His gaze wandered around the room, half-lidded eyes scanning the familiar mess of their shared space. The other corner of the room looked as if a tornado had hit it, clothes strewn across the floor, bags scattered about—standard after a hard day of practice.

“Come to think of it,” Chigiri continued, his voice shifting just slightly as he changed the subject. “Why the hell were you not with us, Nagi?”

Reo’s gaze flickered toward the bed, and his eyes landed on Nagi, the one person in the room who had said nothing. The sloth of a person was lounging, facedown on the bed, his blanket a tangled mess around him. The room was thick with the smell of sweat, a clear indication that Nagi had skipped out on the shower, yet again. His hair was a tangled mess, and there was no denying the disheveled, half-empty expression that hung over him.

"Holy—Nagi, did you not shower after practice?!" Reo asked in a mix of disbelief and exasperation, his voice rising a few notches as he finally addressed the sloth directly. His nose wrinkled slightly, as if the idea of Nagi’s unwashed state was more than his senses could bear.

“Nah, got hungry.” Nagi’s voice came out in a soft, lazy drawl, almost as if he couldn’t be bothered to lift his head from the bed. His fingers traced absentmindedly over the end of his blanket, his sole source of entertainment at the moment. His response was as typical as ever—a half-hearted answer that could’ve meant anything or nothing at all.

Chigiri shot Nagi an exasperated look, though his annoyance didn’t quite have the usual sting. He threw his towel in Nagi’s direction with a dramatic flick of his wrist, the towel landing somewhere near Nagi’s head. “Man! You are disgusting.”

The moment he let the towel fly, Chigiri immediately regretted it. He could feel the damp strands of his hair tickling his forehead, and in his eagerness to get the towel away from him, he realized with a sigh that his hair still wasn’t completely dry.

But Nagi didn’t care. He didn’t even flinch at the towel, not even bothering to glance at the damp cloth now resting in the corner of his blanket. He continued to idly play with the fabric, his eyes almost vacant as he lost himself in the rhythm of his own movements. It was like nothing mattered to him except the odd comfort of that small, insignificant action.

Reo and Chigiri fell into an easy rhythm, their conversation slipping back into casual banter. They started going back and forth, discussing the upcoming match and speculating about their strategy, talking a little bit of gossip in between, but Nagi—per usual—remained as detached as ever. His attention wavered in and out, his ears catching bits and pieces of the conversation.

And then, as if something had caught his attention, Nagi’s lazy eyes flickered up from his blanket. He turned his head toward the two, his expression unfazed but a bit sharper than usual.

"You took something,” Nagi said, the words rolling off his tongue with the least amount of effort.

The suddenness of his statement made Chigiri and Reo freeze. Both turned to look at Nagi, puzzled, waiting for him to elaborate on what he meant. Nagi just stared at them, his eyes half-lidded but expectant.

"The box," Nagi continued, his voice low. "Navitsu said he left it at the cafeteria, and you took it." There was no emphasis on the statement, no suspicion, just a quiet observation from a person who rarely cared about anything at all.

The room seemed to freeze for a second. Reo and Chigiri exchanged glances, a bit of confusion settling over them.

“I don’t think it’s the same box we found, though,” Reo said after a moment, turning to Chigiri. He was still processing the casualness of Nagi’s remark. “Isagi said it was his, didn’t he?”

Chigiri nodded, running a hand through his hair again, his expression thoughtful as he leaned against the edge of the dresser. “Isagi would never lie. Plus, his reaction seemed pretty genuine when we asked him about it.”

“Mhm,” Reo hummed in agreement, but his gaze was now focused on Nagi, the casual mention of the box causing him to feel an odd sense of curiosity. “Are you sure it’s Navitsu’s?”

Nagi didn’t seem particularly inclined to answer any more than he had to. He shrugged slightly, his eyes wandering back to his blanket as if the topic had already lost its relevance to him. “Don’t know. He just said it was a small box, a cafeteria table, and that he lost it around the same time you guys found it.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room fell silent. It was an unremarkable exchange, an odd moment that seemed out of place. Reo and Chigiri both stared at Nagi for a few seconds longer than necessary, unsure whether they should push for more answers or let it go. But, as usual, Nagi offered no more details. He had said enough to make it clear he wasn’t interested in getting involved in any drama.

Chigiri broke the silence first, his voice light. “Guess we’ll figure it out eventually,” he said, brushing the situation aside. He walked toward his bed, dropping onto it with a soft sigh.

Reo, however, was still fixated on the mention of the box. Something about it nagged at him. But he wasn’t about to waste his time trying to get to the bottom of it. 

He had more important things on his mind, like finding out how best to improve his skills before the match. And yet, something lingered in the back of his mind as he let the conversation drift into other topics, the mystery of the box quietly gnawing at him.

— — — — — 

Isagi had long forgotten about the moment he had just shared with Kaiser. In his eyes, it was the most normal thing ever, he always helped his teammates when they had cramps, Kaiser was no exception, though it was the first time. 

His thoughts keep going back to the necklace he's been wearing for two days now, unable to contain his smile as he played with it fondly. In the midst of his thoughts he found himself drawn to the practice ground, he certainly wasn’t planning on training yet. But his body thought otherwise.

It wouldn’t hurt to train anyways. He missed it.

He opened the doors slowly, expecting no one, but was pleasantly surprised when he saw his own team.

“Isagi!” He heard Raichi yell out, “stop slacking off and train with us, we have a match tomorrow.”

Shit, he forgot. 

He heard the match was close but wasn’t aware it was that close.

“Coming.”

PxG. He will beat them.

But, he needs an upgrade. He’s been so busy thinking about Navitsu, that he forgot he had to beat him.

Isagi started walking toward his team, but his movements felt heavy, as if he were on autopilot. The buzz of conversation and the sharp sounds of footsteps on the practice ground barely registered in his ears. He heard Yukimiya mention something about enhancing his stamina, but the words were muffled, lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts. His gaze flickered across the players, but none of it seemed to stick. His mind was a thousand miles away, constantly flipping between possibilities—tactics, techniques, and that damn necklace he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.

Every player around him was focused, pushing through their drills, but Isagi’s focus felt… fractured. He should’ve been fully immersed in the practice, but it wasn’t just about the match anymore, it was about his own development. 

The ball came his way. Without thinking, he intercepted it, gliding past Kiyora with fluid precision. His body moved with ease, as if guided by instinct alone, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was searching for something—some new piece to add to his game, some edge that would finally put him ahead of everyone else.

In the midst of it all, Hiori observed with a sharp, calculating gaze. The way Isagi moved, the way the whole team seemed to respond to him—there was something undeniable about his presence. It was like a spark that ignited a fire in the others. When Isagi was on the field, there was a palpable energy in the air, an intensity that made everything feel urgent, important.

Yukimiya, for all his teasing and laid-back nature, had become more focused, almost competitive. Kurona, usually quiet and reserved, had shifted his approach, assisting Isagi without hesitation, almost eager to contribute. Raichi, ever the fiery one, was now visibly hyped, his eyes gleaming with the anticipation of a showdown.

They all fed off of Isagi’s presence, their collective energy sharpened and heightened by his unspoken drive. Hiori couldn’t help but smile as he watched the scene unfold before him. He knew that Isagi was the one who lit the fuse, the one who pushed them all to become better. But there was something more to it, something that Hiori couldn’t quite put his finger on. Isagi wasn’t just here for the team anymore. It was as though he was here for himself. And that shift, that subtle change, made everything feel more intense.

But even as Hiori recognized the fire Isagi brought, he also noticed the distance in his eyes. Something was off. Isagi wasn’t fully present—his mind was elsewhere, lost in his own world of thought. He was still searching for the next thing, the next move, the next piece of the puzzle.

Hiori’s gaze lingered on Isagi, and in that moment, he saw it clearly. Isagi was not the same. The fire in him was no longer just about the team, or even about the game—it was about something personal, something driving him that the others couldn’t fully understand yet. 

Whatever it was, it was taking him somewhere else.

Suddenly, Isagi halted mid-motion. A flash of clarity, a burst of inspiration that stopped him cold.

“I have to go!” he blurted out, excitement flooding his face as if a light had flicked on in his mind. His chest tightened with that familiar feeling—the feeling of a breakthrough, a moment where everything clicked into place.

The team froze. The energy on the field shifted. The players’ movements stilled, confused, unsure of what had just happened. They stared at him, processing the abruptness of his statement.

"Not fair! You’ve only been here for thirty minutes!" Igaguri’s voice cut through the silence, frustration lacing his words. “Some of us have been training since the morning!”

But Isagi didn’t hear him. He was already halfway to the door, his mind racing faster than his feet could move. He barely registered his teammates’ calls or their puzzled expressions. His eyes were locked onto something beyond them—his own vision, his own path to improvement.

Hiori watched the door close behind him, a thoughtful expression settling over his face. Isagi Yoichi had always been the one to push them forward. But now, it seemed like he was chasing something more, something that wasn’t just about beating the others. The way he left without a second thought made it clear—he wasn’t done. And whatever it was that had consumed his focus, it was only just beginning.

— — — — — 

“BLTV FANS AROUND THE WORLD, THE LAST DAY OF THE EGOIST LEAGUE IS FINALLY HERE! THE REMAINING MATCHES ARE BARCHA VS MANSHINE CITY, AND PXG VS BASTARD MUNCHEN!!”

The intensity in the BM locker room was palpable. The air was thick with the weight of anticipation, a blend of nervous energy and fierce determination. Noa stood at the front, his voice steady but authoritative as he laid out the strategic plan for the crucial match. His words were sharp, calculated—designed to slice through any doubts. 

"Stay tight, move with purpose, and keep pressing them until they crack," he instructed, his eyes scanning the room, making sure every player understood the gravity of the situation. His calm, confident demeanor was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling in the room.

Isagi, however, was in his own little world. As Noa's voice faded into the background, he slowly ran his hand over the fabric of his jersey. The number on his chest felt different today—he could feel the weight of the responsibility that came with wearing it. He wasn’t just playing for the team today; this match was his proving ground. His future was on the line. The familiar echo of his idol’s words rang in his mind: "Show the world who you really are." 

The feeling of pride surged through him, fueling his resolve. He couldn’t afford to hold back now, not when everything he’d worked for was hanging in the balance.

As he adjusted his jersey, his eyes wandered over to his teammates, searching for a connection, some sign that they, too, were feeling the same intensity. The room was filled with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. Some players had their eyes closed, their bodies sagging with the fatigue of endless training. Others, like Isagi, wore expressions that revealed the nervous tension they couldn’t hide. But there was also something else, a hunger to win.

The quiet muttering and the soft rustling of equipment gave way to a heavy silence as everyone began to settle into their final moments before the game. 

The door to the locker room creaked open, signaling the final call. Noa’s voice cut through the tension one last time: "Let’s go, gentlemen. This is our moment." The words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything they’d been fighting for. Isagi stood up straighter, his heart racing but steady.

And with that, the team moved as one, stepping into the unknown of the final match, ready to face whatever came their way.

The walk was relatively short, but to Isagi it felt like the longest he’s ever walked. 

They were positioned in a loose formation, each player silently studying the BM squad, observing every step they took. Their expressions were unwavering–they were already sizing up their opponents, it was obvious.

He saw Shidou was the first to start the action, his signature smirk stretched across his face as he slowly approached them, more specifically Kaiser. 

He could hear Shidou teasing Kaiser, which left Kaiser mildly unimpressed. He didn’t let Shidou’s taunts rattle him, though the tension between the two was undeniable. 

Isagi’s focus was momentarily broken by a sudden motion catching him off guard. His forehead collided with something solid, and a dull thud echoed in his head. Blinking in confusion, he looked up and found himself face-to-face with Rin.

Rin’s expression was as unreadable as ever, his dark eyes almost seeming to pierce right through Isagi. His control over the situation was obvious; there was a calm dominance in the way he held Isagi’s arm, guiding him effortlessly.

Isagi’s forehead ached from the sudden clash, the impact surprising, but the real sting was in how easily Rin took charge. His annoyance flared, the feeling of being treated like a ragdoll not sitting well with him. He tried to pull back slightly, resisting, but Rin’s grip remained firm, unyielding.

"Are you done playing around?" Rin’s voice was low, his words sharp and cold, but there was a subtle undercurrent of something else, something far less visible. His usual stone-cold demeanor never wavered, but in that moment, Isagi could sense that Rin was more than just annoyed. 

There was a kind of restrained intensity—like a pressure building behind the wall of his calmness. It almost made Isagi wonder what exactly lay beneath that surface, but Rin was always the hardest to read. He said something about making Isagi crumble, but he couldn’t care less.

Isagi straightened up slowly, trying to tamp down the irritation bubbling beneath his skin. He had to keep his focus, not let the little things get to him. He didn’t want to give Rin the satisfaction of seeing how annoyed he was.

“Got it,” Isagi muttered, more to himself than to Rin, his voice steady, though the heat of frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

Rin glanced away, his expression returning to its usual stoicism, as if the moment had never happened.

“Get your head straight,” Rin added, almost carelessly, as if their brief exchange had meant nothing.

Isagi, fighting the small rush of emotions that had started to build, nodded curtly. He wasn’t about to show any more of his cards. He’d play this game his own way. As they made their way toward the field, Isagi could feel Rin’s presence lingering close by, his energy hanging just a little too heavily in the air between them. 

“KICK OFF!!”

The match started with Kaiser, Ness by his side. He was instantly clashed by Shidou. Kaiser looked at him, annoyed by his nature. He looked around, eyeing any of his followers that were around, he passed to Ness who seemed more quiet than usual, he didn’t bother asking if he was okay before the match started, but if his mood change affected the match they were gonna have to talk.

Instantly, Kaiser freed himself from Shidou and received his ball back. Other players from PxG circled around him, preventing him from moving any forward. One of them caught his eye, he assumed he was a Blue Lock member because he’d never seen him before, but it seemed to him that he knew him. He got glares and a hard shove that made Kaiser look up at him in irritated confusion.

What the fuck was his problem?

Kaiser immediately shoved back even harder, but the man wasn’t moved, making Kaiser raise an eyebrow at him. Was he made of steel? Kaiser was always the stronger one, no one managed to lay a finger on him.

Except, maybe Yoichi, but he let him.

He wanted to kill this guy.

In the middle of their little hassle, the ball was passed towards Zantetsu who kept getting interrupted by other BM members, and in a moment, Nanase appeared, changing the entire course of the game as he finally passed to Rin.

Rin, expecting the simple pass back to him, took the ball with effortless grace, his footwork smooth and precise as he sought to control the play. But, out of nowhere, a sudden surge from Isagi broke his concentration.

With lightning speed, Isagi darted from behind Rin, timing his move perfectly to intercept the ball. Rin stumbled, momentarily losing control, his usual composure shaken by the expected challenge. Isagi seized the opportunity, his foot landing on the ball with a sharp, clean touch. He shifted it past Rin’s outstretched leg, pushing it forward.

“Who’s lukewarm now, number one?” Isagi taunted, a grin tugging at his lips.

Rin’s eyes flared with fury. The match had barely begun, but the spark of rivalry between him and Isagi had already ignited. The crowd’s excitement swelled, the stadium vibrating with energy.

As the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, the commentators praised BM’s formation and Isagi’s quick thinking. The ball was now in BM’s possession, and they began to build their attack.

Isagi, now in control of the ball, looked around, his sharp eyes flicking over the shifting players. He could already see it—the way Rin and Shidou moved in tandem, like two predators hunting together. Their playstyle was unpredictable, always changing, always on the move. Despite the hours of preparation, BM’s defensive strategy was constantly being tested, and the intricacies of PxG’s offensive plays threatened to overwhelm them.

Isagi's eyes narrowed, studying their formation. He couldn’t afford to be passive. He had to adapt—again.

‘Even though we prepared, it seems as though they’re still as unpredictable as ever,’ Isagi thought, gritting his teeth. He had to get a read on their every movement. He needed to understand how Rin and Shidou were coordinating their efforts, and how he could break their rhythm.

As Isagi surveyed the field, his gaze fell on one player who stood out. Charles. Despite not knowing him as well as Rin or Shidou, Charles had proven himself as a key player in PxG’s setup. There was something about him—his vision, his presence—that made him dangerous.

‘He has to have meta vision’, Isagi thought, his instincts alert.

Charles was in possession of the ball now, his eyes scanning for an opening. He was weaving through the midfield, his movement fluid, almost deceptively calm. Isagi anticipated the next move. Charles, as expected, was looking for an opening to pass to Shidou, but Isagi wasn’t going to let that happen.

With quick footwork, Isagi cut across the field, positioning himself perfectly to intercept the ball just as Charles was about to make the pass. The crowd gasped as Isagi’s foot met the ball, knocking it away from Charles’s control.

“Oh—wow…” Charles muttered, momentarily stunned by the unexpected interception. But Isagi was already off, the ball at his feet as he dashed forward. The thrill of the steal surged through him, and a grin spread across his face.

“Terrific, mister ahoge!!” Charles shouted after him, his voice dripping with passion, the excitement in his eyes was unmistakable. Despite the loss of possession, Charles couldn’t help but admire Isagi’s instinct.

Isagi didn’t let the distraction slow him down. The ball was now in his possession, and his focus was razor-sharp. He quickly assessed the field, his eyes scanning for his teammates, his mind calculating the best move.

Yukimiya was making a break down the left side. Isagi saw the opening, his mind racing with the perfect pass. Without hesitation, he launched the ball in Yukimiya’s direction, a sharp and calculated pass that cut through PxG’s defense.

Yukimiya, with his speed and agility, controlled the ball effortlessly, taking a couple of quick touches before aiming for the goal. But PxG’s defense was not to be underestimated. Shidou, ever the wildcard, charged in with reckless energy, attempting to block the shot. The two players collided in a brief but fierce struggle, and the ball was sent skimming past the goalpost.

The crowd collectively groaned, disappointed by the near-miss. The ball was still in play, and Isagi could see that BM wasn’t finished yet. He could feel the surge of adrenaline pushing him forward, urging him to press harder, faster.

As the match continued, the back-and-forth intensified. BM and PxG traded possession, each team’s strategy becoming clearer as the minutes ticked by. Isagi’s sharp awareness kept him constantly on the move, anticipating the next play, reading his opponents with precision.

But Rin and Shidou were growing more aggressive, their movements synchronized in a way that made them feel like a single entity. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and every time one of them made a move, the other was already in position to back him up. Isagi couldn’t afford to be caught off guard again.

Every time PxG pressed forward, the tension in BM’s defense heightened. Kurona was doing his best to track Shidou’s erratic movements, but Isagi could see the cracks. There was something about PxG’s chaotic nature that made it hard to predict their next move.

Suddenly, he heard yelling and the sharp whistle of the referee signaling an issue. Isagi wasn’t sure he was interested, until he caught a glimpse of what had happened. Navitsu and Kaiser were locked in a heated struggle, fists flying, their faces twisted with rage.

Isagi’s heart raced as he sprinted toward them, his mind frantic with the need to stop the fight before it got worse. “Navi!” He yelled out, but it seems as though they canceled out everyone else. Isagi stepped in, wrapping his arms around Navitsu from behind, trying desperately to restrain him. His breath was shallow, heart pounding, but it felt as though his voice was drowned by the chaos.

In a swift movement, Isagi felt a punch land squarely on his nose. He staggered backward, clutching his face as the blood began to flow. The chaos seemed to stop in an instant, and Isagi felt rough hands gripping his head, pulling him upward. “Oh god! I'm so sorry, Yocchan!” 

He tried to open his eyes, but it was as though the light was too bright, he wanted to tell Navitsu that it was alright; he was alright. But his teammates answered for him.

“Let go of him, you scum.” Yukimiya hissed, pulling Isagi away, the referee again tried to calm the situation but failed inevitably. 

More and more players began to join, unsure of what to do.

“I was betting on Rin and Shidou,” Charles cheekily said.

“Honestly, same!” Shidou agreed, a smirk appearing on his face as he got closer to the commotion but stopped to look at Rin who was silently watching the events unfold, indifference clear on his face. “What? Don’t care that your teddy bear is bleeding?” He teased.

Rin’s face scrunched in anger, “shut up.” But his eyes involuntarily turned to Isagi, who was now being supported by Hiori on one side and Kurona on the other. They moved him towards their master, Noa, who asked them if they knew anything.

“Piece of shit…” Kaiser spat on the ground, and was about to initiate yet another punch on Navitsu but was stopped by everyone near him. Navitsu, on the other hand, paid him no mind, his eyes sad and ashamed as he looked towards Isagi.

Loki pulled him aside, his voice sharp with frustration. “I expected better from you. You were always the most unproblematic one on the team, the one I could count on. So what the hell happened out there?” He stared at him, eyes piercing. “And don’t lie to me, I saw it. You’re the one who started all of this.”

Navitsu’s gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of Loki’s words pressing down on him. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but the truth of the situation gnawed at him. He shifted his focus to Kaiser, who was standing a few feet away, the tension still thick in the air. “Lower your expectations, then,” Navitsu muttered under his breath, not even looking at Loki anymore. With a resigned sigh, he walked toward the bench, grabbing the first towel he could find, wiping away the sweat and the frustration.

He didn’t care about his substitution; the game was irrelevant now. His mind was elsewhere, on Yoichi—on how he was holding up after everything that had just happened. He couldn’t shake the image of Isagi, blood still trickling from his nose, looking dazed and vulnerable. That wasn’t supposed to be how things went down.

But as he tried to focus on Isagi, he couldn’t help but notice Noa calling Kaiser over, his movements cool and deliberate. A flare of anger rose in Navitsu’s chest. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he shot a venomous look in Kaiser’s direction. The very sight of him now filled him with rage, a storm of emotion that threatened to boil over once again.

“Kaiser.” Noa stared.

Kaiser said nothing and simply stared back.

Noa sighed, frustration so vivid in his face it was almost laughable. “I won’t ask again. What happened?”

“He just fucking attacked me out of nowhere. I don’t even know him.”

Noa hummed thoughtfully, processing Kaiser’s words. The tension in the air was palpable as he shifted his focus, his eyes locking onto Isagi. "Isagi," Noa began, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of curiosity. He wasn’t addressing Kaiser anymore. "He called you something, Yo-chan? Do you know him?"

Isagi, who had been resting with his head on Hiori’s lap, slowly stirred and sat up, wincing at the ache in his body. He heard Hiori protest, a soft, concerned murmur, but Isagi was determined to respond to Noa. He didn’t want to leave anything unsaid, especially with how irate Noa seemed with everyone at the moment. He took a steadying breath. “He’s a friend.”

Noa’s gaze intensified, and he tilted his head slightly. “Is that so?” The question wasn’t so much for confirmation as it was for evaluation, as though he were trying to measure the weight of Isagi’s words. His eyes narrowed, but before he could speak further, Isagi’s attention shifted back to Kaiser, who was standing nearby. The air around him seemed to crackle with unspoken animosity, his eyes fixed on Isagi with a dark, unsettling glint. Isagi felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of Kaiser’s stare.

The words he wanted to say seemed to catch in his throat. He could feel the anger bubbling inside him—the indignation at having to apologize for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. But even so, he didn’t want to escalate things further. With a slow exhale, he finally spoke, his voice low and sincere. “I’m sorry… he usually doesn’t get so… so aggressive.”

His eyes flicked to Kaiser, and for a brief moment, their gazes locked—Kaiser’s eyes were like cold steel, and Isagi couldn’t help but feel a wave of discomfort. He hated how small it made him feel, having to apologize, having to explain himself when part of him felt it wasn’t entirely his fault. He mumbled the word “sorry” again, his tone laced with frustration at the situation and the fact that he had to appear so weak in front of Kaiser. His fists clenched slightly, but his gaze stayed lowered, unwilling to meet the challenge in Kaiser’s stare.

The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Isagi felt the weight of Kaiser’s gaze like an unspoken challenge, the intensity of it making his skin prickle. It wasn’t just anger in those eyes—it was something colder, something darker that made Isagi want to look away, but he forced himself to hold steady.

Kaiser didn’t speak right away. His lips pressed into a thin line as he absorbed Isagi’s apology, the slight tilt of his head almost mocking. For a brief moment, Isagi wondered if it had been a mistake to say anything at all, if it would’ve been better to let the silence speak for him, but it was too late. The tension between them was palpable now.

Finally, Kaiser’s voice broke through, low and laced with a hint of disdain. “A ‘friend,’ huh?” He let the words hang in the air, as if testing them for truth. “That’s what you’re calling it?” He leaned forward slightly, his posture suddenly more predatory, his eyes narrowing. “You really think you can just apologize and make it go away, Yocchan? You think that’s gonna fix it?”

Isagi swallowed, the anger that had been simmering inside him flaring again, but this time, he struggled to keep it in check. He wasn’t going to let Kaiser provoke him. He wasn’t going to play into his games. But it was hard, especially with Noa now watching them both, his expression unreadable.

Hiori, sensing the growing tension, stood up beside Isagi, his body stiff as he stepped slightly in front of him, a silent show of solidarity. "Kaiser, that's enough," he said quietly, his voice firm but calm. "Isagi already said he's sorry. Let it go."

For a split second, Kaiser’s gaze flickered toward Hiori, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the same cold stare he had fixed on Isagi. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Kaiser’s lips, but he didn’t answer Hiori. Instead, he looked back at Isagi, and his voice came out in a soft, almost mocking tone. “Friends… Don’t make me laugh. The way he looks at you, the way you’re apologizing like a little dog—how ‘friendly’ could it really be, huh?”

The words hit like a slap, stinging more than they should have. Isagi’s chest tightened with frustration, his anger rising again, but it was tempered now by a sense of something deeper, something more confusing. He wasn’t sure what he felt anymore. His mind raced, emotions tangled, unsure whether to fight back, to stand tall, or to just walk away from the whole mess. 

He was tired of it. Tired of being caught in the middle of whatever this was between Navitsu and Kaiser.

"I don't know what your problem is, Kaiser," Isagi finally said, his voice stronger than he felt. "But I'm not going to let you push me around just because you're frustrated with your own issues." He took a small step forward, his jaw set, refusing to back down any longer.

For a moment, Kaiser didn’t respond. He just stared, as if trying to decide whether to escalate things or let them cool. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension between the two of them almost unbearable.

Then, with a sharp exhale, Kaiser straightened up, his expression unreadable. “Fine,” he said, the word dripping with something between resignation and defiance. “You do whatever you want. But don’t expect me to forget this.”

And with that, he turned on his heel, walking away, his presence still heavy in the room, leaving behind a sense of unresolved tension.

Isagi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his body relaxing slightly. But even as Kaiser retreated, the unease lingered. He knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Noa’s voice broke through the silence, and Isagi looked up to see the captain watching him closely, his expression inscrutable. "Get rest, you’ll be back as soon as the bleeding stops.”

“I can play–”

“I said rest.”

Isagi nodded, though part of him wasn’t sure he fully understood. What had just happened between him and Kaiser? Was it something he could fix, or had he just been caught in the middle of a storm that was far beyond his control?

"Thanks, Noa," he muttered, unsure of what else to say. He glanced down at Hiori, who was still standing beside him, the concern in his eyes palpable. They didn’t speak, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. It wasn’t over. Not yet.

The match resumed, though it was filled with unresolved tension between the teams, each team defending their teammate. He didn’t think Navitsu was going to play anymore. Tokimitsu took his place instead.

Shidou goaled, with Charles’s assist. Isagi felt frustrated, he should be playing, he should be getting better—! 

Noa’s voice sliced through the silence, cutting off the swirl of thoughts that had occupied Isagi’s mind. “Isagi, Hiori,” he called, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Get ready.”

For a brief moment, Isagi was still, his thoughts lingering on the tension that had just unfolded between him and Kaiser. But the moment Noa spoke, something within him clicked into place. The game wasn’t over. They had work to do.

“Yes, sir!” Isagi and Hiori responded in unison, their voices full of renewed energy. The excitement between them was palpable, the rush of adrenaline starting to kick in again. Whatever had happened off the field, whatever frustrations had lingered, they were pushed aside for now. It was time to focus.

Noa’s next words, however, drew a heavy silence over the team. “Kiyora, Igaguri, come back.”

Isagi’s gaze flickered over to Igaguri. The shock on his face was immediate, his expression one of disbelief. He stood there, frozen for a heartbeat, before his eyes started to water. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to stop the tears from falling, but the reality of the situation hit him too hard to ignore. This was it. His last play. His time on the field was over, and it wasn’t because he wasn’t giving his all—it was because Isagi was injured, and that meant someone else had to take his place.

Isagi’s stomach churned with guilt. He and Igaguri had always been a unit, side by side. They had shared countless practices, victories, and defeats together, pushing each other to be better. To see his friend like this, on the verge of being substituted out, was a hard pill to swallow. The unspoken bond between them, the understanding they shared, made the moment even more painful.

"I’m sorry," Isagi said softly, his voice full of regret. "I didn’t mean for this to happen."

Igaguri blinked at him, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. He wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, he gave a tight nod, his throat visibly constricting. There was no anger in his eyes, just a resigned sadness. The kind that came from realizing the dream of being out there on the field, fighting together, was slipping through his fingers.

Isagi watched as Igaguri walked off the field, his shoulders slumped, head lowered. It wasn’t a pretty sight—there was no glory in this moment, no triumphant farewell. Only the quiet sting of a player being forced out when he still had so much more to give.

Isagi turned his focus back to the game, pushing the guilt aside. There would be no time for self-pity. But as he moved to take his place on the field, he couldn’t shake the heaviness in his chest. He owed Igaguri more than just a passing apology—he owed him the drive to make sure their sacrifice meant something. For both of them.

The match continued.

Rin broke free from his marker, taking advantage of a split-second lapse in BM’s defense. With the ball at his feet, he surged toward the goal, his eyes locked on the target.

‘No way I’m letting you get past me’, Isagi thought.

He dashed forward, closing the distance between them with a burst of speed. Rin’s eyes narrowed as he prepared to make the shot. But just before he could strike, Isagi lunged, throwing himself in the way to block the shot. The ball deflected off his body, and BM’s defenders rushed to clear it.

The crowd roared, their voices rising in excitement as the tension reached a fever pitch.

The match wore on, each team pushing themselves to the limit. BM and PxG were locked in a fierce battle, neither willing to give an inch. But in the midst of the chaos, Isagi had a moment of clarity. His mind sharpened, and he saw it—the gap.

Rin and Shidou, for all their coordination, had a flaw in their play. A brief miscommunication, a half-second hesitation. Isagi’s mind worked quickly, calculating his next move.

As PxG surged forward once more, Isagi took the ball with deadly precision, dodging a tackle from Rin. He glanced to his left and saw Yukimiya making his run. With a swift, powerful pass, Isagi launched the ball downfield, directly into Yukimiya’s path.

Yukimiya took the ball in stride, his confidence evident as he charged toward the goal. With a single, powerful shot, he sent the ball flying into PxG’s net, the crowd erupting into wild cheers.

The scoreboard lit up, marking BM’s first goal of the match. Isagi couldn’t help but grin, the rush of satisfaction flooding his chest. But he knew this was far from over. PxG wasn’t done yet, and neither was he.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Yukimiya’s goal sent shockwaves through the stadium. Isagi’s chest swelled with pride at the perfect pass, but the elation was fleeting. PxG was not a team that would crumble easily. Rin’s furious glare was locked on him from across the field, and Shidou was practically vibrating with energy. The ball was back in PxG’s hands, and this match was far from over.

Rin was already barking orders, his eyes fiery with determination as he lined up for the restart. 

PxG was quick to respond, and they launched into another offensive, the precision of their playmaking cutting through BM’s defense with surgical precision.

Isagi quickly scanned the field, his mind calculating the next move. He could feel the shift in energy—PxG was hungry for the equalizer, and they were going to give BM everything they had.

The ball was passed to Rin, who expertly controlled it before launching a piercing pass to Charles. Charles’s calm demeanor was deceptive; he was an essential part of PXG’s offense, with uncanny vision and almost inhuman accuracy. Charles took a quick look at Shidou, who was already charging forward, ready to take on anyone in his path.

Isagi’s mind raced. They’re setting up the two-on-one again. I need to stop Charles before he makes his move.

With a deep breath, Isagi surged forward, positioning himself between Charles and Shidou. The crowd held its breath as Isagi intercepted the ball just as Charles was about to pass it to Shidou.

The ball was momentarily in Isagi’s possession, but the pressure from PXG was relentless. Rin and Shidou were closing in on him with ferocity. Isagi, sensing the danger, quickly passed the ball to Kurona, who was waiting nearby.

“Go!” Isagi shouted, his voice a mix of urgency and adrenaline.

Kurona’s face lit up with the thrill of the game. He sprinted forward, dodging one of PxG’s defenders, but Rin was closing in fast. Isagi watched as the players collided in a blur of motion, Kurona managing to slip past Rin’s challenge and send a pass to Raichi, who was ready to unleash a shot.

But PXG’s defense was no slouch. As Raichi wound up for the shot, Shidou, who had been lurking just behind, lunged in, blocking the attempt with an almost supernatural timing.

The crowd groaned in frustration. BM had gotten so close, but PxG’s defense, led by Shidou’s chaotic energy, refused to let them break through.

Isagi’s mind was still racing. He had to do more. He could feel the pressure mounting—his team needed him to make the breakthrough. He was determined, more than ever, to find the opening they needed. The vision he’d honed through countless matches, the meta vision that had become his greatest asset, was sharper than ever.

Isagi started to drift deeper into the game, his body moving almost instinctively. His focus was entirely on the flow of the match, each player’s movements like a rhythm he needed to learn. PxG wasn’t just playing soccer—they were fighting for every inch of space on the field. They weren’t just trying to win; they were trying to break BM.

“You need to be faster, Isagi!” he mentally scolded himself as he saw Rin and Shidou linking up once again. The two had an almost telepathic understanding. Every pass, every movement was instinctual. If BM didn’t stop them now, PXG would flood their defense.

But the more Isagi watched them, the more he saw the cracks. Their synchronization was impeccable, but even the most fluid teams had weaknesses. Rin was used to taking charge, but he wasn’t used to being pressured—he was used to being the one dictating the play, not reacting.

Suddenly, Isagi saw it—a slight hesitation in Rin’s posture as he received the ball, just a tiny shift in his stance. It was enough.

Isagi lunged forward again, his speed almost blinding, and intercepted the ball in one fluid motion, sending it straight to Kunigami, who was already charging forward.

Isagi’s eyes burned with determination. “This is it. This is how we break them.”

Kunigami controlled the ball with ease, his focus razor-sharp. He dodged a defender, cutting inside with his signature move, and took a quick glance at the goal. But Rin, sensing the danger, was already closing in. Rin wasn’t going to let BM have it so easily.

But Kunigami was ready. With a swift movement, he passed the ball to Isagi, who had followed the play up the field, positioning himself perfectly. The crowd rose in anticipation as Isagi set himself for the shot.

Rin was coming in fast—Isagi could see it in his eyes. The gap between him and the goal was closing fast. Was this going to be it?

But Isagi’s mind was clear. I can’t let this be the end. I’ve learned so much. I won’t let them beat me.

At the last possible moment, Isagi feinted a shot, tricking Rin into diving toward the wrong side. With a burst of energy, Isagi tapped the ball with precision, sending it toward the far post. The ball curled with perfect accuracy, slipping past the outstretched arms of the PxG goalkeeper.

The crowd erupted as the ball hit the back of the net, signaling BM’s second goal. Isagi felt a surge of exhilaration, but it was tempered by the realization that the game was far from won. 

PxG was relentless, and if anything, this only made them more dangerous.

PxG wasn’t going to lie down and accept defeat. Rin and Shidou were seething with anger, their eyes now burning with a desire for vengeance. Rin knew he couldn’t afford to let Isagi’s confidence soar—he had to break him. PXG’s attack shifted gears, becoming even more chaotic and unpredictable.

Isagi felt the weight of the pressure on his shoulders, but he didn’t back down. If they’re going to keep coming, then I’ll keep answering.

Rin took the ball, weaving through BM’s defense with a furious determination. He passed it to Shidou, who immediately launched a wild shot toward the goal. But Kurona, who had been tracking Shidou’s every move, was ready. He dove in front of the ball, blocking the shot with a perfectly timed tackle.

The crowd let out a collective gasp as Kurona slid across the ground, the ball deflecting away from the goal. BM’s defense held firm for now.

But Rin wasn’t finished. He picked up the loose ball and passed it quickly to Charles, who was already positioning himself to take a shot on goal.

Isagi’s heart skipped a beat. Charles... no, I can’t let him get the chance.

With the quickness of a fox, Isagi launched himself toward Charles, making a perfect tackle just as Charles was about to shoot. The ball flew loose, and Yukimiya dashed to collect it.

The game was rapidly reaching its peak. The tension in the stadium was suffocating, each play more intense than the last. Isagi’s meta vision was becoming sharper with each passing moment, but PXG wasn’t making it easy. Every player on their team was giving everything they had, every move a testament to their sheer will to win.

The game ended 3-2.

With Kaiser leading the last goal, while Rin scored his. 

The win felt amazing. 

Isagi felt alive again.

He felt weight on his back, it was Hiori.

Others cheered while the other team sulked, or at least a certain teal eyed striker did. 

It felt really good, really good.

— — — — — 

In the locker room, the BM members were celebrating, some even teared up.

Kaiser was the only quiet one, even Ness was celebrating with them.

Before he could register anything, a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the locker room. Luckily, no one noticed, except a certain blonde.

“Navi—?”

“I’m so sorry!!” The blonde in front of him yelled, bowing to him for the first time ever. “I really am! I just– remember the night you came to visit us?” 

Isagi nodded, thinking back to both nights, either the one that broke his heart or his head.

“Hiori told me Kaiser was the one who hit you, and I just, I got angry, and I don’t—” Navitsu’s voice cracked, the frustration and concern laced in every word, but he couldn't seem to finish his sentence. His hands trembled, as if he was holding back a flood of emotions he couldn’t contain.

Isagi, feeling the weight of Navitsu’s guilt, placed a gentle hand on his cheek, hoping to soothe the storm brewing within him. “Breathe,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over Navitsu’s skin, a silent invitation for him to calm down. “It’s okay, it really is. I know you could never hit me. Kaiser can be… a bit much. But the night he hit me was my fault and mine only.” His voice was steady, trying to offer reassurance, to lift the burden of blame from Navitsu's shoulders.

Navitsu shook his head in disbelief, his brows furrowing with frustration. “But—”

“And if anyone should be angry at Kaiser, it should be me,” Isagi cut him off, his tone firm but not unkind. He slowly withdrew his hand from Navitsu’s cheek, watching his expression change as the absence of the comfort left him feeling exposed. A small, almost imperceptible whine escaped Navitsu's lips as he leaned into the space Isagi had just vacated, the lack of contact suddenly too much to bear.

Isagi knew what that look meant. Navitsu was always so quick to protect, so driven to fight for his teammates, but he wasn’t the one who should carry this burden. Not this time. Isagi had to make sure of it, even if it meant accepting the responsibility that had been placed on him, unfair as it might seem.

The words hung in the air between them, a fragile moment of understanding. Isagi stepped back slightly, giving Navitsu some space but still watching him closely. He could see the conflict in his friend’s eyes—the desire to help, to fix things, but also the deep-rooted worry that came from not being able to.

“I’m not mad at you, Navi,” Isagi continued, his voice softer now. “I never was. I don’t want you to feel like you have to protect me from things that aren’t your fight. You’ve done enough already.”

Navitsu’s eyes softened at the sincerity in Isagi’s voice, but there was still hesitation, a flicker of doubt that refused to settle. Before he could respond, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere—a cold, almost oppressive presence that seemed to seep into the room.

Isagi’s eyes darted toward the source, his heart skipping a beat when he noticed Kaiser standing just a few feet away, leaning casually against the doorframe. His posture was tense, and the glint in his eyes was much sharper, much more dangerous.

Kaiser had been listening.

He tilted his head slightly, as if amused by their conversation. Though his face was still annoyed. “Such sweet words,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But you know, it’s funny how you’re both acting like I’m the villain here.” His lips curled into a smirk, the familiar arrogance in his expression sending a ripple of unease through Isagi’s chest.

Navitsu’s body tensed, a flash of anger crossing his face, but he held himself back, the air still heavy with the remnants of their earlier confrontation. Isagi, though, didn’t flinch. He met Kaiser’s gaze head-on, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of seeing any fear or hesitation.

“What do you want, Kaiser?” Isagi’s voice was steady, though he could feel the heat of the tension rising again.

Kaiser pushed off from the doorframe and took a few steps forward, his gaze flickering between Isagi and Navitsu with a strange, unreadable intensity. “I’m just here to make sure things don’t get too messy,” he said smoothly, almost too casually. “Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “I wouldn’t want you to think that I’m the one who started this whole thing. But you know, if it’s really your fault, Isagi, you’re more than welcome to keep carrying that burden.”

The underlying threat was clear. Kaiser was never the kind to back down, and the animosity between him and Isagi was far from over. The air crackled with the tension of a confrontation that hadn’t been resolved—it had only shifted, deeper and more dangerous than before.

Isagi stood his ground, unwilling to back down in front of Kaiser. "I don't need your permission, Kaiser," he said firmly, his voice unwavering. "And if anyone’s going to take responsibility for their actions, it’s not going to be you telling me what to do."

The faintest smirk tugged at Kaiser’s lips, but his eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered, before turning on his heel and walking away, his presence lingering long after he’d left the room.

As his footsteps faded, Isagi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hand unconsciously reaching for Navitsu’s. The weight of Kaiser’s presence still hung heavily in the air, but at least for now, the immediate tension had dissipated.

“You’re right,” Isagi said quietly to Navitsu, looking him in the eyes once more. “It’s not his fight. It’s ours. And we’ll handle it, together.”

Navitsu nodded, his expression softening, though the anger in his eyes still simmered beneath the surface. But for now, he was with Isagi, and that was enough to make the storm feel a little more manageable.

This is chapter 4

1, 2, 3, <- 4 -> 5

[marvojpr]

Navitsu (Original Character in AGWP)

From my fanfic, ‘A Game Worth Playing’, Navitsu is an oc that plays a huge role in shaping Isagi in who he is. he’s inspired by Jong-woo’s gf; Jin-eun from ‘Strangers From Hell’. If you’ve watched the show, you know what he’s doing, otherwise I don’t want to spoil anyone.

Name: Navitsu Arata

Current age: 18, a year older than Isagi (met him when he was 4)

Role: emotional wild card (for isagi at least lol)

Appearance:

Navitsu stands out even in a room full of Blue Lock members, it’s more of a build thing though—he’s tall, broad shouldered that rivals Kunigami’s. His hair is messily long, but prefers to tie it, most of the time Isagi is the one who ties it for him while he plays video games in Isagi’s room, Isagi always buys hair ties that he keeps around his wrist in case of an emergency. Navitsu likes to wear oversized clothing but makes sure to wear something tight for when he decides to randomly start training. For some reason, his favorite clothes always end up missing. He’s most definitely covered in bruises head to toe, making Isagi fuss over him after each match or practice.

Personality:

Navitsu often appears intimidating, but as soon as you greet him, he’ll show you his best gummy smile. He’s a very optimistic person, and always prefers to look at the world in a more positive light which contrasts Isagi’s way of thinking. But sometimes, the roles are reversed and during those times Isagi always panics, which they laugh about later. He’s very protective of Isagi. Which is why he sometimes feel a singe of abandonment whenever Isagi is chummy with someone else, mainly Bachira, he’s not used to sharing his attention, but once he figures his shit out, he’ll fix it.

Background:

He was initially born in Russia, due to his dad’s work, but that was also the reason they had to move back to Japan. See, his dad was let go because of reasons his mom wouldn’t tell him. If Navitsu had to guess, his dad had an affair with someone close to the boss, because not even a month after arriving to Japan they divorced. But that didn’t matter. Nothing did. He met Isagi and suddenly nothing mattered. They grew up basically together, like brothers (in Navitsu’s pov). He lives with his mom, though they don’t talk much, or at all for that matter. She’s a very quiet and cold woman. He doesn’t want people to think he’s anything like her, which is why he appears so bright. Soon after he found his passion in boxing, and became a pro after a decade of training.

Inspired from:

Yae Miko (personality) Eren Jaeger (relationship with Mikasa wise) Sanemi Shinazugawa (body build) Maki Zenin (personality and strength)

now look. i’m not an artist, therefore i can’t draw him for yall. BUT I DO KNOW HOW TO USE GACHA LIFE?? PLS IM SORRY ITS SO BAD BUT IDK HOW ELSE TO SHOW HIM FOR YOU. here’s him side by side with Isagi; i didn't really pay attention to isagi so take him or leave him.

PREPARE FOR CRINGE.

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 3 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 3:

Shidou crossed his arms with an exaggerated sigh that echoed in the cramped locker room. “I swear, if he wasn’t so talented, I’d kick him off the team just for the pure annoyance of it!” His voice was a mix of frustration and begrudging admiration, indicating the thin line between rivalry and respect that defined his relationship with Rin.

Charles chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief, “Oh, come on, Shidou! You know he fuels the team’s fire in ways you just can’t appreciate. Without his brooding looks, who would take the game seriously?” He made a dramatic gesture, mimicking Rin’s unyielding focus on the field – a fierce, teal-eyed storm that commanded attention and, at the same time, provoked aggravation.

“You mean he’s just a giant, walking thundercloud!” Shidou shot back, a playful grin breaking through despite the annoyance. “Just because he’s got those glacial eyes doesn’t mean he’s the king of cool. He’s like a boulder, solid and infuriating!”

A snicker came from the corner, and the blonde, a tall figure with sharp wit and a penchant for sarcasm, piped in, “You know, Shidou, the way you rant about Rin, you make it sound like you’ve got a crush on him.” He playfully nudged Shidou, who recoiled in mock horror.

“I do not! That’s ridiculous!” Shidou shot back with a flare, but the light in his eyes belied his defensiveness. “He just needs to let loose a little! Y’know, show some personality that’s not just ‘I’m the best striker’.”

“Ah, but deep down, he’s a softie!” Charles winked, eyes still gleaming with amusement. “He might act all stoic and boring, but I’ve seen him help out other players during practice late at night... when he thinks no one’s watching.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow, a smirk teasing his lips, and pinched Charles’s ears lightly.

Charles hissed through laughter while rubbing the pinched spot on his ear.

Just then, Rin returned from his shower, steam still clinging to his skin like a second layer. His eyes narrowed at the banter, but there was a hint of exasperation. “You all should find more productive ways to spend your time,” he called out, but there was no venom in his tone.

“And you should try to have some fun!” Charles shot back, a playful smirk still plastered across his face.

“Fun?” Rin deadpanned, raising an eyebrow as he pulled on a fresh shirt, one that clung to his toned frame, evidence of countless hours spent honing his skills. 

Before the three could get more heated, the blonde chose to drag Charles knowing Shidou would trail them, “how about we just visit the cafeteria? Come, Nanase, Karasu.” He called out the players that were still in the locker room. 

He saw Karasu drying his hair with a towel as he gestured vaguely for the others to go ahead without him. The hint of a smile tugged at Karasu's lips, though it was more out of habit than genuine amusement. The others understood: Karasu was always taking his time with his own things, and they didn't mind. 

In the cafeteria, the blonde teammate couldn’t help but glance around, taking in the usual crowd of players from various teams. But amidst the noise and movement, one figure stood out—the white-haired striker, slouched casually in his chair, looking every bit the picture of indifference. His eyes seemed distant, lost in some thought only he could understand, yet he still exuded a certain magnetism that made it impossible to ignore him.

"Guys," he called, his voice cutting through the playful bickering between Shidou and Charles as they teased Nanase about something insignificant. "I need to talk to Nagi. Get my food with you, okay?" Without waiting for any responses, because he knew either Nanase would grab it or Charles would inevitably steal his food anyway, he turned and walked away.

When he reached Nagi’s table, Nagi didn’t immediately notice him, his attention elsewhere. It took a moment before the striker lazily looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and mild curiosity. He didn’t say anything, but the quiet questioning look in his eyes spoke volumes; what was the blonde doing here?

"Say, Nagi," the blonde began, his tone light but with an undercurrent of subtle tension. He glanced around the table, his gaze scanning the cluttered surfaces as if expecting something to jump out at him. "Have you seen a box laying around here? I put it here yesterday, but I can't find it now..." His voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping in, but Nagi seemed uninterested almost immediately.

"I heard Reo talking about it," Nagi muttered, his voice flat, almost dismissive. His eyes returned to whatever it was he had been doing, the conversation already a fleeting thought in his mind.

“Reo? Did he take it?” the blonde pressed, not fully ready to let go of his concern. There was a flicker of suspicion in his words, but Nagi merely shrugged, not giving it much thought.

“I guess. He’s always with that princess,” Nagi responded, his tone as nonchalant as ever. His words were more of a statement than anything else, as if it wasn’t worth investing further energy into. "Doesn't really matter."

The blonde paused for a beat, his brow furrowing slightly. "Where are they?" he asked, the question hanging in the air.

Nagi didn’t even need to look up to answer. “Sleeping.”

The reply struck the blonde as odd. He had never really heard of Reo and Chigiri sleeping at such an hour. But he didn’t comment on it. Nagi wasn’t one for details, and it seemed pointless to push him further.

“I see. Thanks, Nagi. Tell them I want to see them when they’re awake, alright?” he said, standing a little straighter as he prepared to leave.

“Sure, Navitsu,” Nagi said without much thought, his words fading as the blonde turned to head back toward the others.

— — — — —

"Don’t you think you’re pushing yourself too much?” Ness asked, his voice laced with concern as he observed Kaiser’s intense focus. It had been hours since they started practicing, and Kaiser hadn’t shown any sign of slowing down, his mind clearly set on mastering every movement.

But Kaiser wasn’t planning on answering him. His gaze was fixed on the ball, and his movements were automatic, almost mechanical, as he struck it again and again with precision. His body seemed to know exactly what to do, each kick flowing seamlessly into the next. If it hadn’t already, the rhythm of the ball had become second nature to him.

Ness couldn’t help but sigh, his eyes never leaving Kaiser’s form as they practiced. Their movements, synchronized and almost in perfect harmony, gave Ness the feeling that they were performing a kind of dance, a delicate balance of athleticism and control. At some point, it almost felt like the world had quieted around them, their only sound the swift thump of the ball and the quiet rush of air.

“I need to beat Yoichi.” Kaiser finally spoke, the words heavy with a mixture of determination and something more elusive. He struck the ball, and it hit the net with a satisfying thud. Ness, without hesitation, nodded in agreement, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at the ball.

“That is,” Ness said with a light snicker, his eyes briefly mocking the ball as if it were Yoichi’s legacy, “if he even plays.”

Kaiser’s eyes flared for a moment, and his voice dropped to a low hiss, filled with venom. “Be quiet. We need him to play, to beat him, and to be the best.”

Ness could feel the tension in the air, but he wasn’t ready to back down. He shrugged slightly, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m just saying,” he said, nervously scratching his neck, “you seem as though you expect too much from that roach.”

Kaiser didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening, but instead grabbed his towel and walked away from the field, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

As he walked, his mind began to race, the thoughts tumbling over one another in a way that made it hard to focus. Nothing seemed to fit, but in the back of his mind, one thought kept looping: the upcoming match with PxG. There was something about it, something in the air that felt off—maybe it was just the adrenaline, the excitement building up. But that didn’t fully explain the gnawing feeling that lingered.

Kaiser wiped his face with the towel, feeling the familiar roughness against his skin. His fingers lingered over the spot where the punch from Yoichi had landed, the sting of it long gone, but it still felt as though it had left a mark. Not just on his face. The memory of Yoichi’s angry glares, the seething look of disdain that had never been directed at him before, burned in his mind like an image he couldn’t scrub away.

Yoichi had always been someone who radiates warmth off the field. He was kind and respectful, the kind of person who treated everyone with a quiet decency that Kaiser respected. But on the field, that gentleness seemed to vanish, replaced by a fierce competitiveness that could be cold and unrelenting.

And that was fine, Kaiser respected that too. 

But what unnerved him was the way Yoichi’s anger seemed solely reserved for him. It was a strange feeling, something that stirred something inside him—a sense of purpose, a spark that ignited a deeper, more intense rivalry. It wasn’t just about the match. It wasn’t just about winning. It was about proving something.

He had to beat Yoichi. He had to surpass him, not just for the title, but to reach the top. He couldn’t ignore the fact that Yoichi stood as a barrier in his way. Kaiser wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but something about that rivalry made him feel more alive than he had in a long time.

“You okay?” He heard a voice that made him look down.

“Yoichi.”

Isagi shrugged it off, used to the informality by now, though it still made his eyebrows furrow a bit. “You were going to run into me.”

Kaiser grinned in amusement, “what? That too bad for you, Yoi?” He teased him, slowly leaning closer but was immediately stopped by Isagi.

“What’s wrong with you?” Isagi asked, voice clear of any of the usual venom. If Kaiser didn’t know any better he would’ve thought Isagi was genuinely worried about him, the mere thought made him vomit.

“Me? I’m great. You’re the one acting up.”

Isagi couldn’t even disagree. “But,” he started walking, allowing the other to follow him in curiosity. “You’re never distracted, especially off field. So really, what’s on your mind?”

Kaiser wanted to smirk or to at least tease the sprout-head, he really did, but all amusement fell short, “careful, Yoichi. You sound like a worried friend.”

Isagi looked at him in genuine disgust. “Absolutely not.” He hardened his stare, “I’m honestly not sure why I even asked, I guess I was intrigued. Or you’re just really hard to look at in such a state.” 

“Ohoho so you do like what you see every other day?” Kaiser finally regained his usual composure that was gone the whole day due to training.

“Forget I even asked.”

The two bickered back and forth, unaware of the pair of eyes that trailed behind them.

Kaiser and Isagi walked side by side, the now silence between them stretching out in an almost tangible way. There was a weight to it, not uncomfortable, but not entirely at ease either. It was the kind of quiet that came from being too aware of each other’s presence, yet not quite sure of the space between them.

Neither of them felt the need to fill it with words, though. They had been rivals for too long, their bond more complicated than anything simple or easy. The quiet was a neutral ground—neither ally nor enemy, but something in between.

Nothing had changed.

They were still competitors, still enemies when the game was on, and even off the field, their interactions remained laced with the tension of their rivalry. But as they walked, there was something subtly different in the air. 

Isagi’s posture had softened, a slight relaxation in his step, as if the day’s training had worn him down just enough to let his guard slip, if only a little. 

Kaiser, on the other hand, seemed more distant, his usual energy drained in a way that wasn’t typical for him, the weight of his thoughts heavy on his shoulders.

It was a small shift, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. And though they might have been walking side by side, they still walked in separate worlds, each locked in their own thoughts, each holding their own distance. For now, their rivalry remained as sharp as ever, and perhaps that was just the way it had to be.

“Kaiser,” Ness began, muttering to himself. He sadly looked at the two, a few tears forming in his eyes, "you always get this look around him... It's like you're trying not to care, but you do." With a sigh, Ness speaks under his breath, as if he’s talking to himself but loud enough for the universe to hear. 

“You never look at me like this. Never.” He allowed the two to go further and further away until he couldn’t see them again. "Maybe you don’t need to beat him... maybe you just need him to see you, the way you see him." Ness says this quietly, almost as if he’s trying to help Kaiser understand his own feelings, the words carrying a tone of quiet empathy and a hint of sadness

.

……

“Yocchan, stop being so shy,” his mother said with a playful whine, her brow furrowing in concern. She grabbed his raincoat, trying to squeeze it onto him, but Yoichi resisted, pushing her hands away. His small frame squirmed in defiance.

“No! I wanna watch No-aa!” he exclaimed loudly, his face scrunching up in protest as he clung to the space around him, clearly determined to get his way.

His mother sighed, a tired but loving expression crossing her face as she turned to her husband for support. “Don’t you think he’ll listen to you? Maybe he’ll be better with you,” she said with a soft pleading tone.

His father, leaning against the doorframe with an amused look, scoffed playfully. “This kid wouldn’t listen to me if his life depended on it!” He chuckled, glancing down at the small child who had now latched onto his leg in a mock defense, grinning mischievously.

Yoichi, however, was less than impressed. He stuck his tongue out at his mother and huffed, a clear sign of his defiance.

“But it’s so beautiful out, so snowy and gorgeous!” his mother exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration as she gazed at the scene outside the window. The soft snowfall had blanketed everything in a pristine layer of white.

Her husband smiled at her, his face warming slightly. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close in a tender embrace. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, his affection evident in the soft gesture.

Yoichi, disgusted by the display of affection, threw his hands up in the air. “Bluh!” he yelled, storming out of the house in mock outrage, his little feet thudding loudly on the floor. “Fine! I’ll leave! Don’t gross me out!” he shouted over his shoulder, clearly more focused on his protest than on the beauty of the day.

His parents watched him leave, their faces softening with adoration. “Brat,” they muttered fondly, smiling at each other, feeling the warmth of their family’s small but special moments.

His parents were right, though he was too small to understand. The scenery around him was indeed astonishing, transforming the bustling city into a winter wonderland. Draped in a pristine blanket of snow, every surface sparkled, the delicate flakes twinkling under the soft glow of street lamps. Trees, adorned with embellishments of glistening white, stood like sentinels, their bare branches laced with frost that caught the light like diamonds. 

Even the sky, a muted gray, seemed to shimmer with a promise of magic only the coldest of days could bring. It was enough to make even little Yoichi, with his round cheeks and wide eyes, grow fond of the color white—a color that now blanketed his world in a soft embrace.

With an innocent eagerness, he scanned the dimly lit streets for any child his age to share in the joy of play. The snow beckoned, inviting him to leave his mark, to create snowmen and throw snowballs with friends. Well, if he couldn’t find anyone, he would just play soccer by himself! 

But as he ventured further into the freshly fallen snow, the sound of crunching under his tiny boots was the only company he had. The city seemed to quiet down, the energy of the day draining away as the golden hues of the evening began to fade. A subtle chill crept in, but Yoichi was too excited to let it bother him. Little did he know, time slipped like grains of sand; the evening was growing later, shadows becoming longer, and a sense of stillness fell over the town. 

Suddenly, a loud thud broke the serene silence; it startled Yoichi, making him jump slightly as he turned to see the culprit of the noise; a kid who had tumbled into the snow, limbs sprawled like a clumsy marionette. He looked at the scene, frozen in uncertainty, unsure of what to do. Should he help? Anxiety filled him as he stood there, waiting for anything to happen. 

“Boo!” 

The unexpected shout made him scream, the sound piercing the cold air like a winter wind. Yoichi flailed backward, tumbling onto his backside. Laughter erupted from the other boy, who rolled in the snow with glee, barely able to contain his mirth. “You should’ve seen the look on your face! It was like ‘ah!’ and like ‘woah!’” 

The boy's laughter echoed around them, bright and carefree, but as he glanced at Yoichi who had fallen, the joy quickly turned to concern. The boy’s expression had changed to a pout as tears began to spill down his rosy cheeks. “H-hey! Don’t be such a baby!” the other boy stammered, but his tone lacked the confidence it had moments before. Instead of calming him, his words only seemed to make the situation worse. 

The boys’ heart raced as Yoichi's cries pierced the air, igniting something inside him. This was wrong. The tension in the air crackled uncomfortably as nearby pedestrians cast wary glances their way. 

“Bully!” 

“What?! You’re just being dramatic!” 

Before he could even process the chaos, a gentle hand settled on his shoulder, warm and reassuring. An elderly woman, her hair frosted like the trees, looked at him with an expression that was both kind and stern. “Bullying is very bad. You should apologize,” she said softly but firmly, her eyes mirroring disappointment.

He felt horrified at that accusation, his own heart racing now, “but–!” he stuttered, only to feel a wave of shame wash over him under the weight of the elder’s gaze.

“You’re Isagi Yoichi, right?” The lady turned to the wailing kid, her tone shifting to genuine warmth as the other nodded, all while feeling small under the scrutiny. A soft smile broke across her face, “Let me take you to your parents; they must be worried since it’s so late.” 

With that, she swooped him into her arms with the ease only a loving caregiver could possess. As she cradled him gently, the chaos faded, and he felt the warmth of comfort enveloping him, briefly forgetting the bully's lingering presence. She walked him toward the street lamp ahead, where the glow illuminated the snowflakes swirling in the air like tiny dancers.

Before they got too far, Yoichi turned just in time, sticking his tongue out at the kid, a revengeful grin pulling at his lips. 

“You brat!” The boy shouted, flabbergasted and left in the snowy aftermath of his own mischief, while the elderly woman continued to carry Yoichi away, unaware of the love that had just sparked in the winter chill. The magic of snow swirled around them, even as the evening grew colder still.

The walk back home had felt strange, as though time itself had slowed. The soft, rhythmic swish of the elderly woman’s steps on the snow seemed to lull Yoichi into a peaceful slumber. He was still shivering from the cold, but the warmth of her arms around him provided a strange solace, a reassurance that nothing else mattered for the moment. 

By the time they arrived at his house, Yoichi had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep. The sounds of his parents’ frantic voices, the soft murmur of gratitude to the elderly woman, and the bustle of the household as they fussed over him—none of it reached his drowsy mind. He was wrapped in the safety of sleep, cocooned in a world where he didn’t have to face anything that scared him.

But there was one thing that lingered in his thoughts before he drifted completely off, something that had caused him to smile in the darkness of his mind. The bully. He didn’t know why, but the thought of that kid still made him grin. Maybe it was because, despite the scare, there was something oddly satisfying about being able to stand his ground, about sticking his tongue out as a small victory.

Yoichi wanted to see him again. Maybe he’d be less scared next time. Maybe they'd actually play together. But for now, his body and mind demanded rest. Sleep was all he needed in that moment, to forget and recharge.

The morning greeted him in its usual fashion, loud and bustling. The sounds of voices and clattering pots and pans drifted in from the living room. Yoichi groaned as he tried to drag himself out of bed, blinking against the stubborn heaviness in his eyes. He rubbed his face with a small, tired hand, stifling a yawn as he tried to shake off the remnants of his slumber.

“Yoichi,” his mom’s voice called from the doorway, cheerful as ever, “We have guests over! They’re our new neighbors from across the street. They have a son your age. Come meet him!”

Her tone was full of that warm excitement he was used to, her face bright with the promise of a new friend. Yoichi blinked, trying to shake the fog of sleep from his mind. A son? A kid his age? That caught his attention, making his heart beat a little faster, his curiosity waking up in an instant.

His eyes now wide, he pushed himself up from the bed and stretched his arms above his head. The sleepiness was still there, clinging to him like a weight, but the thought of meeting someone new—someone who could play soccer—made his heart race with excitement.

“Coming!” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his eyes one last time before quickly hopping out of bed, his legs a little unsteady from the sleepiness that still lingered. He couldn’t wait to see who this new kid was. The idea of having a new friend to play with filled him with a sense of excitement, something that chased away the fog of sleep and left only a spark of energy.

His footsteps were slow at first, his body still craving the warmth of his bed, but as he neared the living room, the buzz of voices grew louder, and his excitement pushed him forward. Maybe today, he'd find a new adventure.

“You!” They yelled in sync, shock harboring their faces, while the other kid was much more angry than the excited Yoichi.

“Oh, have you met each other already?” A woman standing next to his mom asked suspiciously, not trusting Yoichi one bit. 

Neither of them answered, much more interested in the staring contest they had going on. But the woman made a sound that jolted the kid, “I met him yesterday, ma’” He started, staring at the ground, ashamed. 

His mom looked unimpressed at the answer, “the kid you bullied?”

Iyo’s ears perked at that, but upon seeing her son’s expression she giggled as she patted the woman’s shoulder, “I highly doubt my Yocchan was getting builded, Rei. He’s so strong headed I worry he might hurt someone!”

She wasn’t convinced, but let it go.

“Yocchan,” his mom called softly, her voice cheerful as ever, “take Navitsu to your room and play together.”

Yoichi nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile forming on his face. He loved the idea of having a new friend to play with, especially after everything that had happened the day before. His mind raced with thoughts of soccer and whatever fun they could get up to.

“Okay! C’mon, Navitsu!” he called, turning to the blonde boy, but Navitsu wasn’t as eager.

The other boy stood frozen in place, his arms crossed, eyes scanning the room with a skeptical expression. His lips were pressed into a thin line, a clear reluctance in his body language. Yoichi, oblivious to the tension, simply huffed and grabbed Navitsu’s wrist, tugging the boy along with an unyielding energy.

“Hey! Let go! I’m not going anywhere!” Navitsu protested, trying to resist the forceful tug.

Yoichi didn’t seem to care. 

“You’re coming with me! I wanna play!”

The blonde’s protests turned into half-hearted attempts at escaping, but Yoichi’s enthusiasm was infectious, and before long, he found himself being dragged to the room, his feet barely skimming the floor as Yoichi’s determination led them both down the hall.

Once they reached Yoichi’s room, Yoichi released his grip and shut the door behind them, eagerly gesturing to his various toys and soccer merch scattered around. He immediately dropped onto the floor, sliding into a cross-legged position with a wide grin. “Look at all my toys! I have soccer balls, and—”

Navitsu didn’t seem impressed. He hovered near the door, his gaze distant, eyes darting around the room as if searching for a way out. His arms were still crossed tightly across his chest. The silence between them stretched for a few moments before Yoichi, ever the optimist, tried to break it.

“Come on! Don’t just stand there. You can’t be all serious!” Yoichi laughed, his voice full of energy as he pointed to the soccer on the floor. "We can play together, right?"

Navitsu shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not  in the mood,” he replied, the words blunt and almost defensive. There was an edge to his voice now, one that hadn’t been there earlier when they met yesterday.

Yoichi blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. But then, after a beat, he sat up straighter, his expression softening with curiosity. 

Navitsu shifted again, this time avoiding Yoichi’s gaze. "You lied," he said quietly, "about what happened yesterday. You said I was bullying you, but that's not really what happened, was it? My mom heard and got really mad at me."

The sudden accusation made Yoichi freeze, his eyes wide. The room, which had just felt lively, suddenly seemed heavy, too heavy for his small shoulders to carry.

"I… I didn’t mean it like that," Yoichi stammered, his throat tightening. His initial instinct was to deny it, to say he hadn’t lied, but he realized he had. His stomach twisted as the truth began to sink in. 

Navitsu’s expression faltered, frustration flashing in his eyes. "You made me sound like some bully," he said, his voice low. "I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I just thought it would be funny."

Yoichi felt his chest tighten as he took in the hurt in Navitsu’s tone. The words hit harder than he expected, and he suddenly realized how the situation must have looked from Navitsu’s side. It wasn’t just about the scare. It was about the shame that had come with it—the unintended consequences of his own overreaction.

“I’m sorry,” Yoichi said quietly, feeling his voice break as he met Navitsu’s gaze.

Navitsu didn’t respond immediately, but his tense posture loosened slightly as he regarded Yoichi for a moment. His arms unfolded from his chest, but his eyes were still unsure. “I forgive you,” he muttered, the edges of his voice softening.

Yoichi stepped back, “I promise to never ever lie again!” Still, the feeling of the weight of his apology lingered in the air. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “So…, do you wanna play soccer now?”

Navitsu glanced down at the soccer on the floor, then back at Yoichi. There was a pause, the silence between them feeling heavy, but then a small smirk tugged at the corners of Navitsu’s lips. “Alright,” he said, his voice softer now. “I don’t really like soccer, but you better be ready. I don’t go easy on anyone.”

Yoichi’s face lit up, his heart leaping at the chance to start over. “I’m always ready!” he exclaimed, grabbing the ball and tossing it to Navitsu.

And as they began playing, the tension between them melted away. The soccer rolled between them, their competitive spirits rising as they began a new kind of challenge—a challenge that didn’t carry any grudges or misunderstandings, just pure fun. With each pass and each kick, their bond began to grow stronger.

Yoichi couldn’t help but feel a shift inside of him. There was something about Navitsu, something that drew him in, made him feel seen, in a way he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the playfulness. It wasn’t just the way Navitsu made him feel like he had to keep up, like he could challenge him. It was the way that, in the midst of their rivalry, Yoichi felt like he was no longer just a scared kid. He felt strong. And that feeling came from the trust they were slowly building.

Over the next few hours, they laughed, argued, and played soccer until the sun dipped low. And in that time, Yoichi realized something important: Navitsu wasn’t just a new friend. He was someone who understood the messiness of things, someone who wouldn’t judge him for his mistakes, someone who didn’t expect perfection.

And as the day came to a close, Yoichi, now tired but fulfilled, realized he had never felt more attached to someone in such a short time. He didn’t know if it was the way they had both started off on the wrong foot or the way they were able to build something new from it, but he was grateful.

“Hey, Navitsu,” Yoichi said quietly as they sat on the floor, catching their breath, “I’m glad I met you yesterday.”

Navitsu, eyes still focused on the soccer in his hands, gave a small nod. “Me too,” he said, his voice quieter now, but there was an underlying warmth there.

And in that moment, Yoichi knew that this wasn’t just a friendship born from an apology. It was something deeper, something that would last far beyond the boundaries of a soccer field.

Years later, they only got closer.

Especially Yoichi.

He basically got attached to the blonde, screaming and fussing wherever people tried to separate them, whether for him to go to sleep, or at school. Since Navitsu was two years older than him, they had completely different classes, which irked Yoichi so much he left class running when the bell rang.

Because of that, he hardly managed to make friends and it made his mom worry he might never do. But Navitsu was so involved in her son’s life to the point he filled every void that has existed. 

But, she did notice he didn’t particularly like soccer, he just did it to please Yoichi. She didn’t comment on it, although she knew a conversation was due.

Yoichi is now eight years old, he can’t be fussing when he doesn’t get what he wants.

“Navitsu,” Iyo’s voice echoed through the hallway, soft as she called out to the boy sitting in her son’s bedroom. Though the room was technically Yoichi’s, it felt like Navitsu had somehow made himself at home, as if he belonged in a way that felt so natural to Iyo. “Come here for a second.”

In an instant, Navitsu was at her side, his movements swift, as though he’d been waiting for the call. His expression was one of concern, his brow slightly furrowed as he worried for a moment that he might have done something wrong. It was that same nervous energy that made him seem so unsure of himself, even in situations where there was no reason to be.

“I’m here. Did something happen?” he asked, his voice laced with mild apprehension. He always seemed ready to apologize, to atone for something he hadn’t even done. Iyo noticed the uncertainty in his eyes and it tugged at her heart.

“Not at all, dear!” Iyo reassured him, her tone warm and comforting, the kind of voice that could melt away any tension. Hearing her voice had an immediate calming effect on Navitsu. He relaxed, feeling that strange sense of peace he rarely found at home. Her kindness was something he’d come to rely on in the short time he’d spent with her, a kind of motherly affection that had begun to feel familiar, even comforting.

“Since Yocchan isn’t here, why don’t we hang out?” Iyo suggested with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she moved toward the kitchen. She had a natural way of inviting people into her space, making them feel seen, valued, and accepted.

Navitsu hesitated for just a second before nodding, his lips curving into a smile of his own, albeit a little reserved. “Of course, ma’.” His voice was soft, but the word “ma’” held a warmth that surprised even him. It wasn’t something he’d used before, but it felt right in the moment.

He followed her into the kitchen, his hands instinctively reaching for a spot on the counter where he could be helpful. It was almost like second nature by now—this unspoken understanding between them. He grabbed a knife, his hands moving with a quiet precision as he began chopping vegetables, mirroring Iyo’s movements as they worked side by side.

The clinking of the knife against the cutting board, the soft sizzle of vegetables hitting the pan—these sounds formed the backdrop of their quiet conversation. The kind of conversation that wasn’t rushed or filled with the noise of the world outside. It felt like a moment suspended in time, simple but meaningful.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Iyo asked, her voice light, almost playful, as she glanced at Navitsu.

He paused for a moment, his hands stilling on the vegetables, and his eyes flickered as he thought. The question seemed simple, but it had always been one that left him with mixed emotions. What did he want to be? A question that, for someone who had spent so much time suppressing his own desires, felt difficult to answer. But Iyo’s presence made him feel safe enough to consider it.

“Well,” he began, humming thoughtfully, “there’s this club at school about boxing. I found it interesting and decided to join, and... it’s safe to say I’m in love with it!” The words came out faster now, his voice gaining energy as he spoke about something he was genuinely passionate about. “It’s so fun, and it really helps my nerves. I’ve always had trouble dealing with stress, especially with my parents’ divorce. It’s a lot to handle, y’know? Boxing helps me focus, keeps me grounded.” His voice faltered at the last part, though he quickly masked it with a shrug.

Iyo listened intently, her eyes not leaving him as she took in every word. She could sense the weight behind his voice, the vulnerability that Navitsu rarely allowed to show. She understood more than he knew—her own family, her own history, filled with things unsaid, emotions hidden beneath layers of daily life. But unlike most people, she wasn’t afraid of depth. She wasn’t afraid of what lay beneath the surface.

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she continued to chop the vegetables with a fluid, calm rhythm. “I’m so glad to hear that, Navitsu,” she said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can tell that boxing means a lot to you. I’m proud of you for finding something that helps you, especially with everything you’ve been through.”

Navitsu felt a lump form in his throat at her words, but he quickly swallowed it down. No one had ever really understood him like that, not in a way that was so simple, so kind. His parents had always been consumed with their own issues, so their attention was rarely ever focused on him. But Iyo, with her gentle kindness and open heart, had a way of making him feel like he mattered.

“Thanks, ma’,” he said softly, his eyes lowering, trying to hide the small smile that had tugged at the corners of his lips. “It’s just... boxing’s been good for me. I guess it’s one thing I can control, you know?”

Iyo’s eyes softened. She had known what it felt like to need control in an uncontrollable world, but she didn’t push the subject. Instead, she continued to support him with her quiet understanding, allowing the conversation to flow naturally.

“Just don’t let Yocchan’s adorable eyes fool you into giving in to soccer! Do what you enjoy.” Laughter filled the air as they recalled Yoichi’s abuse of his puppy eyes.

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the sounds of their movements in harmony, as if time had slowed down for the both of them. It wasn’t just about the food they were preparing, it was about the unspoken connection that was growing between them, a bond forged through quiet conversations, shared moments of vulnerability, and the simple act of being present.

By the time Issei wandered into the kitchen, the food was nearly ready. He greeted them both with a smile, his eyes bright with the energy only a father could bring. “Smells good in here,” he remarked as he leaned in to take a glance at the food.

Iyo chuckled lightly, her eyes glinting with affection. “It’s not much, just a little lunch for us all.”

Navitsu, still feeling the warmth of their earlier exchange, turned to greet Issei with a shy smile, his shoulders slightly more relaxed than when he had first entered the house. He felt... not just like a guest, but like someone who had a place here, someone who mattered.

Issei waved a hand dismissively, his grin widening. “Well, it smells like heaven, so count me in. I’m starving!”

The moment was filled with light laughter and easygoing chatter, and for the first time in a long while, Navitsu felt a sense of belonging. It was something he hadn’t known he needed, this simple, quiet joy of being part of something. Part of a family, part of something real.

As they sat down to eat together, Navitsu couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest. Yocchan will arrive soon! He can’t wait to see him!

The next few years were the highlight of their lives.

Navitsu was now a professional boxer and a prodigy at soccer at just nineteen years old.

Yoichi joined Blue Lock and was getting better and better each second there.

The time Yoichi spent in Blue Lock was the longest he’d ever been away from Navitsu since they first met. They’d been inseparable for so long, their friendship forged through shared moments, late-night talks, and their mutual understanding of one another’s lives. But during those intense weeks in Blue Lock, with the pressure and the fierce competition, Yoichi couldn’t help but feel the absence of his best friend like an empty space in his chest.

He missed Navitsu more than he cared to admit, more than he let himself acknowledge. It wasn’t just the fun moments they shared, the casual conversations, or even the laughter that filled the gaps between them. It was the comfort, the ease of having someone who understood him without question, someone who never asked for anything but to simply be there with him.

At night, in the midst of his practice sessions, Yoichi would often find himself daydreaming, his thoughts drifting back to Navitsu. He could almost hear his laugh, that loud, almost reckless sound that always seemed to brighten his day. He would recall the way Navitsu would tease him, the way he’d always be by his side through thick and thin. But Yoichi never let these thoughts distract him for too long, pushing them aside whenever they started to resurface. After all, there was something far bigger ahead of him now. Blue Lock was where he had to prove himself. But still, there was a nagging ache in his chest whenever his thoughts wandered to his friend.

It was the night of their win against the U20 that Navitsu finally got a text message from Yoichi, his heart singing in happiness as he read the words: "I’ll come for the weekend." 

The relief that washed over him was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t sure if it was the pressure of the past few weeks, or the sheer exhaustion from the intense competition, but in that moment, having Navitsu there felt like a lifeline—a connection to something real, something that had never faltered.

When the weekend finally arrived, Yoichi stood by the door, his heart racing in anticipation. When the door finally opened, Yoichi couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Yocchan!” Navitsu called out, his voice full of warmth and energy, and before Yoichi could even react, the blonde had already wrapped him up in a tight hug. Yoichi’s heart skipped a beat, and despite everything, a warm flush crept up his neck and across his face. He didn’t care if anyone noticed. In that moment, it didn’t matter. All he could think about was how much he had missed his best friend.

Navitsu’s voice was muffled in his ear, but Yoichi could feel the sincerity in it. “I’ve missed you so much!”

Yoichi’s chest tightened, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I missed you more, Navi,” he murmured, his voice soft, but with a hint of longing that he didn’t want to let go of. He didn’t realize it until now, but the absence of Navitsu in his life had left a deeper hole than he had ever anticipated. It wasn’t just that he had missed his company, it was the way his presence made him feel, the way his friend’s existence had become so intricately tied to his own.

But as they stood there in the warmth of their embrace, Yoichi’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice, one that was sharp, teasing, and very much a reminder of his family’s presence. His mom.

"Yocchan!" she called out, her tone playful but filled with mock disapproval. Before Yoichi could process, she had pinched his ear hard, making him yelp in surprise. 

“Mom?!” he whined, pulling away from Navitsu’s embrace to face the woman responsible for his sudden discomfort.

“Brat!” she chided, her pinch growing even firmer, “you missed Navitsu, but not your own mother?”

Yoichi winced, rubbing his ear as he pouted in annoyance. But he couldn’t stay mad. His mom always had a way of softening him up. “Of course I missed you,” Yoichi said quickly, finally letting go of Navitsu to wrap his arms around his mom in a tight hug. He felt the familiar warmth of her embrace, the comfort of being home again. But as he held her, his mind lingered on the fact that his thoughts had been with Navitsu more than anyone else during his time away. He didn’t know exactly what it meant, but the feeling was undeniable.

The two boys shared a brief glance, and Yoichi could feel the weight of their friendship in that look. But somewhere, deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the fact that there was a part of him that wished the hug could have lasted longer. That the moment of peace they shared could have stretched on, uninterrupted by anything or anyone.

He quickly shook the thought from his mind, not wanting to delve too deep into his feelings. Not when everything was still so complicated. Navitsu was his best friend, nothing more. That was all that mattered, right?

Still, Yoichi couldn’t help the small flutter in his chest as he watched his best friend smile back at him. It was a smile full of warmth, full of understanding. And even though he wasn’t sure what it meant yet, Yoichi couldn’t deny that his heart longed for more moments like this. More time with Navitsu. More of that connection. But for now, he’d settle for this, just being with him again, enjoying the simple joy of their friendship. At least, for now.

The spent the entire day listening to Yoichi talk about his time at Blue Lock, though his parents remained clueless at some parts, he was glad Navi was present with his understanding smile.

He mentioned everyone he met, how his ego was even stronger than before since discovering its existence. Bachira, Chigiri, even Rin, and how he managed to score at the last minute. 

Issei turned to his wife, a nervous smile on his face, “do you understand anything?” He whispered.

But his wife’s smile didn’t falter for a second, “not a thing, honey.” She was just glad to have her son back, praying nothing ruins memories like these.

Yoichi had to leave in a few days, but he ignored such thoughts, focusing more on the moment.

He met with his friends, stayed out late, talked to Navitsu again, ate his mom’s homemade food, and got teased by his dad about jumping on top of Nagi after goaling. He was truly the happiest boy alive. 

…

Until the second time he came home after his match against Barcha. His parents were the same as ever, oblivious to the atmosphere. He remembers hugging his mom tightly as she led him to the table to eat lunch. What he didn’t expect was to see Navitsu, bruised up and cutted. He frantically ran to him, ignoring the bag he threw across the room. 

“Navitsu!” he called out, rushing forward. His voice cracked with a mixture of worry and confusion. “What happened? Are you okay?” His eyes darted over the cuts on Navitsu’s face, the bruise around his eye. This wasn’t the typical wear and tear from boxing practice.

But Navitsu didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he simply stared at Yoichi with an expression that was calm to the point of being unsettling. There was no panic, no sign of the usual sarcasm. He was silent, too silent. Yoichi could feel the distance between them expanding with every second that passed.

“I’m fine,” Navitsu said, the words feeling empty in the air. His voice was composed, but there was something brittle beneath the calm. “It’s just a bad match.”

Yoichi wasn’t convinced, and his concern grew stronger. “You’re not fine. This looks serious. Did something happen? Who did this to you?”

Navitsu gave him a forced smile, his eyes not meeting Yoichi’s as he waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

Yoichi wasn’t having it. “No, this is a big deal. You’re hurt, Navi. You need to talk about it. What happened?” His voice was urgent now, and he couldn’t hide the anxiety creeping into his chest. The confusion in his mind only deepened when Navitsu remained so detached.

“Ma,” Navitsu spoke up, looking over at Iyo, who had been observing quietly. “Can I borrow Yoichi for a bit?”

Iyo smiled warmly, nodding as she looked between the two boys, sensing the quiet tension in the room but knowing her son and his best friend well enough to know that they’d figure things out. “Of course, dear. You two have fun,” she said kindly, turning to clean the table.

Yoichi followed Navitsu, the air thick with the unspoken words, the weight of whatever was happening hanging between them. When they reached Yoichi’s room, Navitsu didn’t sit on the floor or the chair, like he usually would. Instead, he took a seat on the bed, rubbing at the bruise on his eye as though the pain was the least of his concerns.

Yoichi’s heart raced as he stood at the door, unsure of what to do. “What the hell happened to you, Navi?” His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Navitsu didn’t look up, his voice flat as he replied, “Just a bad match.”

Yoichi couldn’t hold back his frustration. “A bad match?” he repeated, louder this time. “This isn’t from a normal match! You’re hurt, and you’re acting like it’s nothing! Who did this to you?”

Navitsu’s tone shifted slightly—harder, colder. “Look, just get off my back,” he snapped, his voice sharp like a blade cutting through the air. “I said I’m fine.”

The words hit Yoichi harder than he expected. He froze, caught off guard by the sudden edge in Navitsu’s voice. This wasn’t the Navitsu he knew, the one who always tried to keep things light. Something was different and very wrong, and Yoichi could feel the distance growing between them. A wall was going up, brick by brick, and Yoichi didn’t know how to tear it down.

“Talk to me,” Yoichi finally said, his voice quieter now, tinged with worry. His eyes never left Navitsu, hoping that this would snap him out of whatever dark place he was in. “Please, just tell me what’s going on. I’m here for you, you know that.”

But Navitsu didn’t answer. He just shuffled on the bed, as though he was trying to ignore the tension that was building. His silence made Yoichi’s heart throb painfully in his chest, and the sense of helplessness he felt was suffocating. The friend who had always been by his side, the person who had been there through every challenge and triumph, was now somewhere far away, unreachable. And that terrified Yoichi.

“Navitsu… please.” Yoichi’s voice cracked, his throat tightening as his worry turned to frustration. “Just stop pretending like everything’s okay when it’s not. You’re hurting. I can see it.”

Navitsu let out a deep sigh, a breath that seemed to carry the weight of years of frustration, years of being ignored. He shifted on the bed again, but this time, when he spoke, his words were laced with anger, with raw emotion.

“Just quit boxing,” Yoichi blurted, not thinking through the words as they tumbled out. His eyes dropped to the ground, feeling a pang of guilt for what he had just said. “You keep hurting yourself, and I can’t keep seeing it. I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself for something that might never work out. You’re not—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Navitsu exploded, his voice loud and forceful. It was a sudden eruption of emotion, one Yoichi hadn’t expected. His words cut through Yoichi like a cold wind. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t thought about what I’m doing? About what I’m risking? But you don’t get it. You never have.”

Yoichi stood there, shocked into silence, his mind racing to catch up with the torrent of words that had just been unleashed. Navitsu’s eyes were burning now, his expression one of fury and hurt. It was a look Yoichi had never seen on him before—so raw, so vulnerable, so unguarded. And it terrified him.

“Ever since we were kids, you’ve belittled what I do,” Navitsu continued, his voice thick with resentment. “It’s always been about soccer for you, Yoichi. Soccer, soccer, soccer. You never cared about anything I loved. You always dismissed it. When I wanted to try something else, you were there telling me to focus on soccer, telling me that boxing wasn’t worth it. You didn’t even care that I had my own dreams, my own ambitions. It was always about you.”

Yoichi felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest, but it was accompanied by something else—an unfamiliar sense of disbelief. This wasn’t what he had meant to do. He had always been focused on his own goals, his own struggles, but never had he realized how much it had cost him. How much it had hurt Navitsu.

Navitsu’s glare intensified as he leaned forward, his voice cutting through the silence. “You don’t even play for yourself, Yoichi. You don’t. You play because you think you have to be the best. You play because you think that if you don’t, you’ll lose everything. And maybe you will, but that’s not my problem. You only became so egoistic once you thought I was a better striker than you. You couldn’t handle it, could you?”

Yoichi’s eyes widened, his mouth going dry. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to be accused of being selfish, of being consumed by his own ambition. He thought he had been doing everything for the right reasons, but now, with Navitsu’s words ringing in his ears, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Navitsu stood up abruptly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Honestly, if anyone should quit, it’s you. You’re the one who’s only in it for the glory. I’ve never cared about being the best striker, but you—” He paused, looking at Yoichi with a mixture of pity and disgust. “You just wanted to drag me along, to make me believe that my potential meant something. Well, I’m done. I’m done pretending that you care.”

Yoichi felt a lump form in his throat, his heart thundering in his chest. He wanted to say something, to apologize, to fix things, but the words wouldn’t come. He was too shocked, too overwhelmed by the realization that he had lost his friend, that his selfishness had driven him away.

Navitsu turned away from him, his back to Yoichi now. “I don’t know if you’ll ever get it. But I’m done. I’m done being in your shadow.”

Yoichi stood there, motionless, the silence between them more deafening than any words could be. The weight of his actions pressed down on him, suffocating him. He had lost something—someone—he never thought he would. And in that moment, Yoichi realized that the greatest failure of all was not losing on the field but losing the person who mattered most to him.

Yoichi’s mind was spinning, his thoughts caught in a whirlwind of confusion and hurt. His friend, his best friend, the one person who he always felt he could rely on, was sitting in front of him, wounded and angry. Yoichi had expected a confrontation, sure, but not like this. Not this cold, this distant. He had always thought that no matter what happened, Navitsu would always understand him. After all, they had been through everything together—every little victory, every silly argument, every dream they had shared. But now, with Navitsu’s words cutting through the space between them like a razor, Yoichi felt that familiar bond slip through his fingers.

"But—" Yoichi stammered, his voice barely audible, his throat tight with emotion. This was the first time he had spoken since Navitsu’s outburst, and he felt the weight of his words heavy in the air. He tried to find his footing, to make sense of the situation, but nothing felt right. "But you got an offer, from PxG… I just… what, what happened..." His voice faltered, the sentence trailing off as he searched Navitsu’s face, hoping to find something, anything, that would explain this sudden rift.

Navitsu’s response was a slow, deliberate one, and every word made Yoichi feel like he was being pushed further and further away. "If I want to play soccer, I will play soccer. This shouldn’t even be a decision you make, it’s mine. I won’t quit, but I’ll start taking boxing more seriously."

Navitsu’s tone was clipped, almost cold. His eyes glared at the bruise on his bicep, a reminder of the match he had just lost. Yoichi watched him as he traced the injury with his fingers, his expression hardening even further. It was as though the boy before him wasn’t the same one he had laughed with, the one he had shared his most intimate dreams with. The Navitsu he knew was fading, replaced by someone Yoichi couldn’t quite reach.

Yoichi’s chest tightened painfully, his breath catching in his throat as the reality of the situation began to settle in. The anger in Navitsu’s words, the coldness, the resentment, it all felt like a slap to the face. How could Navitsu—his best friend, the one who had always been by his side, who understood him better than anyone—misunderstand him so badly? How did it come to this?

"I never pressured you," Yoichi whispered, the words escaping before he could stop them. His voice trembled, his gaze falling to the floor. "I never wanted you to give up anything… I just… I just wanted us to be close. I wanted us to share everything, together. I thought you understood that…"

The pain of those words, so raw and vulnerable, sank into Yoichi’s heart like a heavy weight. He couldn’t understand why Navitsu didn’t see that. He had always been there, supporting him, standing by him through thick and thin, and yet now, when he needed that same support, it felt like Navitsu was slipping away, refusing to hold on to their shared dreams. It felt like he was losing him, and he couldn’t bear it. Not after everything they had been through together.

A sudden thought hit Yoichi, so overwhelming that it took his breath away. He closed his eyes, trying to hold it together. Please be a nightmare, he thought bitterly, his heart aching with the weight of his realization. That Navitsu still loved me as much as I loved him, that it was just a joke, that everything would go back to normal. That we’d be together forever, playing, dreaming together.

His tears finally spilled over, staining his cheeks. They weren’t just from frustration or anger anymore. They were from the feeling of helplessness, of being so close to losing someone he had always considered his constant, his anchor. And now, with every word Navitsu spoke, that anchor was slipping further out of his reach.

"Do you want me to quit soccer?" Yoichi asked, his voice breaking as he took a step forward. His hands clenched at his sides, his mind racing with the desperate need for validation, for reassurance, anything that would keep him from drowning in this sea of confusion. "I-I can start boxing, and and, and I can be better!" His words came out in a rush, as if the more he spoke, the more he could avoid the painful truth that was staring him in the face.

But Navitsu’s reaction was one that Yoichi hadn’t anticipated. His eyes widened in disbelief, a flicker of genuine confusion flashing across his face as he looked at Yoichi. "What is wrong with you?" he whispered, his voice quieter now, but laced with an intensity that was even more frightening. "What the hell do you even play for?"

The question hung in the air, and Yoichi felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. He wasn’t sure how to answer, how to respond. He had always known why he played soccer—it was his dream, his passion, the one thing he had always poured his heart into. But now, with Navitsu’s sharp question cutting through him, he realized that there was more to it than just soccer. It was about connection, about shared moments, about the bond they had. And somewhere along the way, that bond had become tangled, suffocating, twisted into something unrecognizable.

"I play because I want to be the best," Yoichi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes locked on Navitsu’s, searching for understanding, for forgiveness. But at that moment, he couldn’t find either. "I play because I want to prove something to myself, and to you, to everyone. But I also play because it’s the only thing that feels like it’s mine. And I thought, I thought maybe we could do this together, maybe you and I could both chase our dreams, no matter what."

But Navitsu’s expression had already hardened. His anger was bubbling just below the surface, a reflection of the pain he was hiding so carefully. "I don’t need you to prove anything to me, Yoichi," he said, his words almost harsh, though there was a hint of vulnerability buried deep within them. "I need you to see me for who I am, not just as your friend, but as someone who’s trying to find his own path. Just because we’ve been together since we were kids doesn’t mean we have to share everything, Yoichi. I can’t keep living in your shadow. I can’t keep being second to your dreams."

The words stung more than Yoichi cared to admit. They felt like a betrayal, a sign that maybe Navitsu hadn’t been as invested in their friendship as Yoichi had thought. But he couldn’t say that—not now, not when he was already losing him.

"You don’t have to be second to anything," Yoichi said, his voice breaking with emotion. "You’re not second to me, Navi. You’re everything to me. You always have been. You just… you just don’t see it."

Navitsu was silent for a long moment. His eyes softened, but the anger was still there, lingering beneath the surface. "Maybe I don’t," he admitted quietly, his voice barely audible. "But I’m tired of being caught between you and your soccer dreams, Yoichi. I’m tired of being the one who’s always left behind. I need something that’s mine. I need to be something more than just ‘Yoichi’s friend’."

Yoichi felt his chest tighten, his heart squeezing painfully as he realized the depth of what Navitsu was saying. This wasn’t just about soccer. This was about identity, about independence, about growing apart. Navitsu was trying to find himself, and in the process, Yoichi had been blind to his struggles, his need for space. And now, with every word, it was becoming clearer just how much damage Yoichi had done without even realizing it.

"I didn’t mean to make you feel like that," Yoichi whispered, his voice hoarse. "I didn’t mean to take away your dreams. I just… I just wanted us to share this. I thought that if we could both make it, we’d be unstoppable. But I was wrong. I didn’t see you. I didn’t see what you needed."

Navitsu’s expression softened, just for a moment, but it was enough to make Yoichi’s heart ache even more. "Maybe we need to stop trying to be what the other person wants us to be," Navitsu said softly. "Maybe we need to find our own way, apart from each other. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to lose myself either."

Yoichi’s eyes brimmed with tears again, but this time, they weren’t just from frustration or anger. They were from the realization that this was it. The bond they had wasn’t broken, but it was never there in the first place.

"I don’t know what to do," Yoichi whispered, feeling lost and adrift in a sea of emotions. "I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t want to lose you, Navi."

Navitsu stood up, slowly, his eyes flickering with a mix of sadness and determination. "I don’t want to lose you either, Yoichi. But sometimes, we have to let go in order to grow. And right now, I need to grow. I need to find out who I am, without you."

……

“You’re distracted again.” Kaiser’s voice cut his memories short.

Isagi slowly looked up at the striker, unwilling to show his annoyance. “Shut up, shitty rose,” he mused.

This is chapter 3

1, 2, <- 3 -> 4

[marvojpr]

i have lost hearing from my nose and smell from my mouth ive been editing this page since 5 am and only managed to post two chapters. im also writing chapter 11 but idk what to prioritize. oh and unlike on ao3, ill be posting spoilers and answering questions more often so beware ahh

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 2 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 2:

On his way back to his dorm, Isagi's fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. His eyes were lost in the words written in a playful, familiar handwriting, and a faint smile tugged at his lips despite the heavy weight in his chest.

"Don’t forget to eat well and shower daily!! your dearest, Navitsu"

The heart drawn above the note, so small and perfect, made something flutter in Isagi’s chest. It felt strangely intimate, almost too personal, like a secret shared only between the two of them. He could practically feel the warmth of Navitsu’s care in those simple words, in that tiny heart. But as he stood there, the smile faded slightly. His stomach tightened, unsure of what exactly he was feeling. Romantic? He couldn’t think like that. He had to keep his emotions in check.

"Aww…” Isagi grunted under his breath, shaking his head, trying to clear the thoughts swirling in his mind. “Stop thinking like that. He doesn’t mean it like that.”

His mind stubbornly replayed the letter, each curve of the pen on the page, every gentle expression that seemed to come through in each line. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn’t understanding. Something that felt... off. He was too distracted to notice the person standing just a few steps ahead, watching him.

Without realizing it, he bumped into someone. The sudden interruption startled him, and he instinctively looked up, his gaze locking with the one person he didn’t want to see right now.

Kaiser.

Isagi’s face immediately darkened, irritation flashing across his features. His grip tightened on the note, crumpling it even further in his fist.

"What do you want?" Isagi muttered, the annoyance clear in his voice.

Kaiser’s smirk was nothing short of smug, the kind that always made Isagi’s blood boil. He leaned in, unbothered by the clear tension in the air. "So insensitive. You won’t apologize?"

Isagi’s brow furrowed in confusion, his chest tightening in frustration. "Apologize?" He scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "For what reason, you clown?"

Kaiser’s smirk deepened, and he stepped forward, closing the distance between them until Isagi could feel the heat radiating off his body. Their faces were mere inches apart now, and Isagi could see the way Kaiser’s eyes glimmered with something dangerous, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“You act all innocent and heartbroken around your friends," Kaiser continued, his voice smooth and mocking. "Where’s that energy now, Yoichi?”

The words felt like a slap, but what unsettled Isagi more was the way Kaiser’s gaze drifted, studying him with unnerving intensity, as if trying to peel away the layers of his thoughts. The silence between them was thick, loaded with unspoken challenges. Kaiser took another step closer, and Isagi felt his heart rate increase, a rush of heat spreading through his chest. He could see every detail in Kaiser’s eyes—every shade of blue, every flicker of amusement, and something darker that Isagi couldn’t quite place. The proximity was suffocating.

"You were disrespectful the other night," Kaiser finished, his voice dropping lower, his words like a quiet threat hanging in the air.

The accusation hit Isagi like a ton of bricks, but before he could respond, he felt the pressure of Kaiser’s presence pushing against him more forcefully. His irritation flared. Was Kaiser really going to act like this? Was he trying to control the situation?

Isagi’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anger dancing in his eyes. “When you treat me a certain way, I’ll treat you the same.” His voice was firm, defiant.

Kaiser didn’t move, didn’t even blink. He just stood there, staring at Isagi as though he were waiting for something. Waiting for Isagi to break, to apologize, to make the first move. But Isagi wasn’t going to let him dictate this. Not anymore.

The silence stretched out, becoming unbearable, suffocating. The air was thick with tension, and each passing second only made the discomfort grow. Isagi could feel his own heart racing, the weight of Kaiser’s stare pressing down on him like a physical force. He was starting to feel trapped.

Unable to stand it any longer, Isagi turned on his heel, his hand reaching for the door handle, desperate for an escape. But just as his fingers brushed against the cold metal, Kaiser’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist with a surprising force. Before Isagi could react, Kaiser yanked him back, pulling him away from the door and slamming him against it. 

The impact made Isagi’s breath escape in a sharp gasp, the shock of it leaving him momentarily stunned. His back pressed against the door with a thud, his chest tight, heart hammering in his chest.

Isagi’s mind raced. His body was flooded with adrenaline as he stared at Kaiser, who was now so close that he could feel the other’s breath on his skin. Isagi’s pulse throbbed in his ears. He was pinned, his options limited, his pride screaming for him to push back—but there was no way out.

“What the hell are you doing?” Isagi growled, trying to free his wrist, but Kaiser’s grip was unyielding.

Kaiser leaned in, his lips brushing against Isagi’s ear as he whispered, voice hushed but full of intent. 

Isagi froze, his mind going blank. The words settled in the space between them, heavy and undeniable. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to make sense of it all, his thoughts scattered, unable to focus.

He wasn’t sure if Kaiser was just messing with him, playing some cruel game, or if there was something more to his words. But the more he stood there, the more he realized something: This wasn’t just about the other night. This wasn’t just about some petty argument or a passing disagreement. There was something deeper here, something that neither of them had addressed, something that made the air around them crackle with a strange, undeniable energy.

Isagi’s heart pounded harder, and for the first time in a long while, he felt utterly unsure of what to do next.

The next second happened too quickly, one moment he was in Kaiser’s grasp, and the next he was on the cold tile floor. 

“Ouch!” Isagi yelled, rubbing his back that's definitely red from the fall. He opened his eyes and looked up, trying to understand what led to this. He found Yukimiya standing behind him with an impassive look on his face, while Kaiser stood in front of him, also unfazed, but a slight look of surprise crossed his face.

“What were you guys doing here?” Yukimiya asked, extending his arm for Isagi to grab onto. “I heard some shuffling.”

Isagi wasted no time getting up, eyes on the ground. “Sorry, Yukimiya,” he mumbled. 

Yukimiya smiled softly, “it’s alright, Isagi. We were just watching the match between PxG and Manshine City, wanna join us?” He mainly addressed Isagi, but his eyes kept straying towards Kaiser with suspicion.

Isagi’s face scrunched downwards, clearly not interested but still unable to voice his displeasure. “Oh I… I think I’ll go to sleep now, thanks for the offer though.” The politeness in his voice made Kaiser eye him with a certain look on his face. 

Yukimiya nodded and stepped aside for Isagi to walk into the room. Oblivious to the tension in the air, he smiled and left. 

However, the other two stood there, eyes not leaving Isagi until he was out of sight. 

“You should go to sleep too, Kaiser.” Yukimiya’s gracious smile was left untouched, but Kaiser could see right through the pretty boy facade. In spite of that, Kaiser didn’t comment on it, instead, he just silently left, seeing as there’s no reason for him to stay.

In his dimly lit room, the night was slowly creeping toward its end. Isagi sat on the edge of his bed, his hands absentmindedly fidgeting with the edge of his blanket. He had just finished getting ready for bed, the usual calm of the evening settling around him, but there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something was missing.

The note.

His eyes darted around the room, a feeling of unease creeping into his chest. It was the note from Navitsu, the one that had made his heart flutter despite his best attempts to ignore it. The note felt like something precious. It had meant something, hadn’t it? 

His gaze flicked to the small nightstand beside his bed, his fingers gripping the edges of the sheet as if the note would magically reappear in front of him. He shoved the blanket aside, his movements becoming frantic. His heart pounded faster with every second that passed.

He tore through the drawers of his dresser, opening them violently, throwing clothes aside, hoping to find the paper crumpled up in some forgotten corner. Nothing. His breath quickened as he dropped to the floor, scouring the tiled floor, looking for any trace of it. The edges of his vision blurred with panic as he ran his hands over the floorboards, his fingers grazing every crevice.

Where was it?

Isagi’s heart raced, the weight of something heavy settling in his chest. He couldn’t explain the feeling—it was just a note, right? A simple message, a few words on paper, but it had meant more to him than he was willing to admit. And now it’s gone. His throat tightened, and the pit in his stomach deepened with the gnawing sensation of loss.

The silence of the room felt suffocating. His fingers tightened into fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that there was more to this disappearance than he could see.

The note was gone—and with it, a small piece of something he wasn’t ready to face.

— — — — —

Something wasn't right.

“How did this end up in the facility?” 

“Beats me,” Chigiri muttered, a faint irritation seeping into his tone as he glanced up at the box. His body felt like dead weight after the exhausting practice, the anger from the loss still simmering beneath the surface. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to shake off the frustration. 

“Should we open it?” Reo asked, his eyes narrowing in thought. He knew better than to trust strange objects that appeared out of nowhere. And this one was peculiar: no label, no markings, just an ordinary-looking package that felt oddly out of place.

“Who is it for?” Chigiri shot back, his tone was dry, bordering on sarcastic as he leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him. His fingers drummed restlessly against the table.

“Ehhh... not named.” He shrugged, a heavy sigh escaping him. 

The more he thought about it, the less he cared.

Reo’s eyes flickered to the box again, a lingering sense of unease creeping over him. How had it gotten past security? His mind raced with possibilities, none of them particularly pleasant. 

After a moment of hesitation, he met Chigiri’s gaze and gave a reluctant nod.

“Let’s just open it then,” Chigiri suddenly said. He wanted to forget about the game, even if only for a moment.

Reo raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. He slid closer to the table, his fingers lightly grazing the top of the box. The cardboard felt strangely solid in his hands, as though it held more than just its contents. There was a careful precision to his movements as he began peeling back the tape, his gaze flickering back and forth between the box and Chigiri.

“Could be a joke,” Reo murmured to himself, but there was no real conviction in his voice. He carefully lifted the lid, ensuring he didn’t tear anything that could be significant. The sound of the cardboard pulling apart was soft but deliberate. Reo glanced at Chigiri once more, a flicker of curiosity in his sharp eyes. “Let’s see what’s inside.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as Reo’s hands gently revealed the contents of the box, the quiet moment hanging between them. 

Chigiri’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he leaned closer to the object in the box. His voice, completely unhinged with excitement, rang out. “Is that… real silver?!”

Reo, who had been examining the contents with a cool and composed air, flinched at the sudden outburst. His reflexes were sharp, but even he wasn’t expecting that kind of energy. He barely stopped himself from dropping the necklace in the process. “Geez, keep it down, will you?” he muttered, quickly straightening himself up.

Chigiri ignored him completely, his hands shaking as he reached for the shiny object like it was the Holy Grail. “This thing's worth more than my entire wardrobe!” He gasped, eyes practically sparkling. “Is this… does this mean we’re rich now? Are we about to live the high life, Reo?”

Reo, unfazed as always, peered down at the necklace, tapping his finger thoughtfully on his chin. “Definitely real. Real expensive too,” he said, almost sounding bored, though his eyes glinted with the hint of a mischievous smile. “I mean, it looks expensive—probably worth a couple hundred thousand yen or more.”

Chigiri's eyes bulged even more. “A couple hundred WHAT?!” He yelled frantically, “forget football! I’m quitting!"

Reo deadpanned, "Yeah, that'll go real well—just what the world needs."

Chigiri gave him a dramatic look, as if Reo had just personally insulted him. 

Reo shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. You know, it’s not that exciting. If you really want to make money, we should just sell it now and invest in something... like socks. Everyone needs socks.”

Chigiri blinked. “Socks?” he repeated, clearly not sure if Reo was messing with him or not.

Reo giggled lightly, “jokes aside, we can’t take this.”

The red head pouted, unsatisfied. “I know,” he finally decided. “Is there anything else in the box?”

Reo looked back inside the box and saw a simple note inside, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. “What the…” He put down the necklace on the table and went to grab the note. 

“For dearest Yocchan ♡”

The duo looked at each other, not recognizing the handwriting nor the name. 

Reo, however, laughed at his friend. “Your name can’t be Yocchan.” 

He got a smack on his head for that.

“Call me crazy–”

“You are crazy.”

“But,” he glared at Reo, “maybe, it’s Isagi?” Chigiri finished, eyes wandering the letter.

Reo pondered at the thought, his mind going back and forth. Maybe. He is the only one with the name Yoichi, as far as their friend group goes. 

“Let’s ask him when we see him.” Chigiri nodded.

“Yocchan?”

…

“BACHIRA?!” Reo and Chigiri yelled in complete shock, their voices echoing across the crowded cafeteria.

“Yaiiiii!” Bachira chimed in, an exaggerated grin plastered on his face, completely unfazed by the chaos around him.

But Reo and Chigiri weren’t about to let this one slide. The two immediately launched into a furious berating of the seemingly oblivious striker, their words hitting Bachira like rapid-fire bullets. The yelling match was intense, lasting at least five minutes, though Bachira stayed completely calm, not even bothering to defend himself.

Around them, the noise in the cafeteria had died down as players from various teams paused to watch the spectacle unfold. Some even stopped chewing, their eyes flicking between the group in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. 

“Is eavesdropping okay now?” Chigiri demanded, his arms crossed tightly, visibly fuming.

Reo nodded in agreement, his expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. “I’m not even angry about the eavesdropping—no, I’m more annoyed at how long you’ve been here without us realizing. Seriously, am I losing my touch? Is my skills getting worse or what?” His words tapered off, and he looked almost defeated as he ran a hand through his hair in annoyance.

But Bachira was completely unshaken, his carefree nature not swayed by the verbal storm. “Well, we finished training early, and I got hungry,” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if the shouting wasn’t happening at all.

Chigiri blinked at him, clearly confused. “Don’t you have anyone to eat with? Or does your team suck like mine?” A quick ‘Hey!’ came from Reo, but Chigiri ignored it, his annoyance still apparent.

“Nope! I just wanted to grab some food for Isagi!” Bachira’s smile turned a bit more sincere, though still playful. “He’s never at the cafeteria nowadays. Thought I'd bring him some, you know, to make sure he’s eating. Can’t have him starving all the time, right?”

Chigiri’s expression softened just a little, though his irritation didn’t fully fade. He was still eyeing Bachira warily. “So, you were actually thinking about Isagi, huh?” he muttered, though a hint of exasperation remained in his voice.

Bachira just smiled even wider, seemingly oblivious to the lingering tension. "Of course! Isagi’s been all weird lately, huh? I thought I'd surprise him with something nice... even though he’s acting all gloomy all the time." He grinned, though the genuine concern in his tone betrayed his playful exterior.

Reo, who had been silently listening, suddenly remembered the necklace. "Wait," he said, turning back to the table where the box still sat open, “you said you were getting food for Isagi, but... what about this?" He gestured toward the box, his eyes narrowing as he picked up the silver necklace.

Bachira looked over at it with a slight tilt of his head. "Huh? What's that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. He stepped closer, his usually carefree demeanor shifting into one of fascination as he leaned in to get a better look.

“We found this in the box earlier. It was with that note. You know, the one that says ‘For dearest Yocchan ♡’?” He said it with a teasing lilt, mimicking the playful tone of the note as he made air quotes around “Yocchan.”

Bachira’s grin turned slightly confused, then amused. “Yocchan, huh? That’s... strange. Never heard anyone call him that.” He reached for the necklace, running his fingers over the smooth silver surface. “But this is real nice, huh? Look at that shine. Pretty fancy for Isagi’s usual style,” he commented, examining the delicate craftsmanship, his voice almost in awe.

Chigiri leaned back in his chair, clearly still not fully convinced. “It’s strange. We don’t even know who sent it or who ‘Yocchan’ is supposed to be.”

Reo, whose head has been spinning, with the note still in hand, suddenly froze. “Hold up… If it’s for Isagi, does that mean the person who sent it to him…” His eyes flickered with realization as he glanced between Chigiri and Bachira. “This could be serious, you know? Like... romantic serious.”

Bachira let out an exaggerated laugh, throwing his head back dramatically. “Ohhh, Isagi’s got a secret admirer, huh? Does he even know about this? I gotta say, that’s a huge plot twist,” he teased, nudging Chigiri’s shoulder with his.

Chigiri scowled, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. “Isagi? Romantic? Seriously, that’s not—ugh, forget it.” He let out a heavy sigh and flopped back in his chair again, crossing his arms. “It’s too much of a mess to even think about. He doesn’t even know what he wants most of the time, how’s he supposed to figure that out?”

Reo, however, couldn’t shake the thought. He had a point, though Chigiri clearly wasn’t in the mood to entertain it. “We need to figure out who sent this, though. If someone’s after Isagi, we can’t just let it slide. We should probably ask him about it.”

Bachira’s playful smile faltered for a second as he considered that. “I guess so. But who would be sending him stuff like this? Maybe it’s someone from his old team, or—” he looked at the necklace again, scratching his head, “or maybe someone else?”

Chigiri rubbed his temples as the confusion set in deeper. “I swear, nothing ever goes as expected with this group. Why is it always us in the middle of these weird situations?” He shot a sideways glance at Reo and Bachira, his frustration almost palpable.

Reo, meanwhile, was lost in thought. “We’ll figure it out when we ask him. But seriously—Yocchan? I still can’t get over that.”

“Why are you even mad at that?”

Reo was taken aback ever so slightly, “mad? Don’t make me laugh!” He scoffed, “I just wanna know the fool that fell in love with Isagi of all people.”

The trio continued to banter back and forth about the mysterious gift, with no real answers in sight. However, the growing sense of curiosity had already started to take hold of them all. What started as a light-hearted moment of discovery soon became something much more intriguing. 

Who was the sender? What was the significance of the necklace? And, most importantly, what did Isagi think of it all?

The questions lingered in the air, unanswered for now—but as they all knew too well, nothing stayed a mystery for long in their world.

…

“Wanna watch him lose to Rin?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why don’t you just lose to me this evening instead?”

“Shut up,” they said in union.

— — — — —

The empty gymnasium is usually occupied by an entire team for practice, under strict rules from Ego to never enter without permission, unless it wasn’t officially requested from Ego.

So here he was, standing in the midst of the empty space, head empty, lightly playing with ball between his feet. His once intense passion for the game had started to fray at the edges. His dribbles lacked their usual rhythm, each bounce seeming more like a hollow echo than a purposeful action. It was as if the gym itself was reflecting his emotions, empty, forgotten, and drained of life.

Oh how he longed for it all to go back to normal.

Even his dream of becoming the best, of having Navitsu, the one person he sought validation from, finally recognize him, seemed hopeless. A side character in his own story. Was that all he was destined to be?

After losing the note, he felt as though it was all just a silly feeling. Where was the Isagi who would stand tall to lies and deception? He needs to change—he felt no urge to. He knew he had to, but he didn’t care enough to do so. 

The gym door suddenly creaked open, and in a blur, someone crashed into him, pulling him into an unexpected embrace. The force of the impact sent both of them sprawling to the floor. For a moment, the air rushed out of Isagi’s lungs. He flinched harder than he ever had, his thoughts racing in panic. Was it Barou? Had he finally reached his breaking point and decided today was the day to end this, to end him?

But no. There was an undeniable familiarity to the embrace. From the arms wrapped tightly around his neck, to the legs now tangled around his waist, the weight was all wrong. It wasn’t Barou’s harsh, unyielding grip—it was something much softer, more playful.

“Bachira?” Isagi’s voice came out in a daze, his head still spinning slightly from the sudden impact.

The culprit in his arms started laughing, clearly amused by his reaction. However, the next course of action left him baffled, as he started ‘purring’ into his chest like some kitten, or in this case, a whole tiger.

“Wait, what?!” Isagi tried to push him off, but he was infinitely heavier, “oh my God! Shidou?!”

“Get off of him, you bumbling insect.” He heard Karasu’s voice intervene.

Isagi pushed himself up from the floor, breathless. “What... What is going on?” His voice shook with a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

Standing a few steps away, Karasu crossed his arms, his eyes disinterested. “It’s always a mess with you people,” he muttered under his breath, but his sharp gaze flickered for a moment toward Isagi.

Isagi’s eyes scanned the room, now aware of the shifting atmosphere. Was the gym taken over by PxG? All possibilities went through Isagi’s mind but each thought was cut short by the undeniable, heavy presence of someone else. He turned toward the source of the intense feeling, his heart skipping a beat. 

The weight that was once on top of him was gone, at least one more thing to worry about. He was about to thank the person who somehow managed to get Shidou off him, but stopped once he saw Rin, darkness filling his face.

He heard Loki berating Shidou about his reckless behaviour, which felt like talking to a brick wall since he could feel eyes on him, very mischievous, very playful eyes.

“Won’t you help me up?” Isagi innocently teased, with no malicious intent. 

But Rin took it seriously, glaring at the sprout head.

“Get your friends in check.” He began, voice dripping with annoyance, “if I see them in my way again because of you, I’ll personally kill you.”

Isagi, on the other hand, stood up and patted his clothes, not taking Rin’s threats seriously whatsoever. Why should he? The more he tried to understand the younger man the less he knew. He still mumbled a small ‘alright’ to not seem rude. 

When Isagi finally looked around the gym to understand what’s happening, he saw Shidou talking to someone on his team he didn’t know. Come to think of it, he hasn’t seen a single match of PxG, or their members. He definitely should though.

A thud cut his train of thoughts, it was near the door of the gymnasium, but he could only point out small pieces of red hair sticking out. 

‘Chigiri.’ He thought to himself, slowly approaching the door, happy to see familiar faces again. 

“Why did you show him the box, you idiot?!” Reo screamed at the buzzing bee. 

“Why not? He’s Isagi’s friend, no?”

“No!” They yelled in union at him. 

He pouted, “stop ganging up on me!” 

“Hm? Who’s giving Bachira a hard time?” Isagi’s soft tone made them look at him with surprise in their faces. 

Bachira was the only one whose face immediately lightened up, his eyes dilating. “Yocchan!” He teasingly pointed. 

Chigiri and Reo stood frozen in place, their eyes wide with disbelief, as though what Bachira did was forbidden. They turned slowly, trying to read his reaction. But what they saw next only unsettled them further. Isagi stood there, with a sad look he had in his eyes.

“Why—why would you call me that?” He stuttered slightly, clearly caught off guard. 

“Ah?” Bachira hid the box behind his back and looked at Isagi innocently, “is that bad?” 

Isagi hid his mouth with the palm of his hand, unable to say anything for a while, “no… but…”

“Does anyone else call you that?” Reo suddenly interjected. Making Isagi finally acknowledge their presence. 

“Well, of course…” His face slowly calmed down, though he was still not the same. “It’s a very known nickname for Yoichi after all.”

Chigiri and Reo exchanged a quick, alarmed glance. Their minds raced with the possibility of what was unfolding before them. ‘It’s for him! He’s got a secret admirer!’ They thought in unison. The realization hit them both like a bolt of lightning, and they couldn’t help but feel a little strange at the prospect.

Bachira, ever the trickster, was trying to be subtle—his hands shifting behind his back to hide something. But it was too obvious. Chigiri wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip by. In one swift motion, he lunged at Bachira, without aggression.

Before Bachira even had a chance to react, Chigiri had snatched the small box from behind his back, holding it up with a victorious grin as Bachira’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Isagi, I think this is for you.” He handed him the box, smiling gently at the sprout head. 

Isagi looked at it for a moment, but smiled at Chigiri fondly, “that’s really sweet of you, Chigiri! When did you even buy it? Your team hasn’t won any matches as far as I’m aware of…” They were glad they managed to make Isagi smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes and at the expense of their egos. Baby steps!

Bachira snickered at that, causing Reo and Chigiri to glare at him harshly. 

“No, it isn’t from me. We found it at the cafeteria, sorry we opened it… we didn’t know who it was for.” He crossed his arms in suspicion, his eyes turning to look at the gift every few seconds. 

“I see,” Isagi replied, as confused as they once were. Since they opened it just now, he was able to see the contents. He immediately grabbed the note though. His eyes widening more with each passing second. “I-!” 

The three looked at him, amazed by the sudden change. 

They gave him a moment for himself, unsure of what to do next. 

Isagi’s fingers gently brushed over the necklace, his touch almost reverent as he picked it up. His eyes softened, the gleam in them not unlike the way someone might look at a World Cup trophy—full of awe, admiration, and a quiet yearning for the moment to be real. The delicate piece of jewelry seemed to shimmer in the soft light, almost as if it held all the dreams he had fought for. His smile, when it appeared, was gentle and unguarded, the kind of smile that spoke volumes without needing words.

“Bachira,” he said softly, his voice a little shaky with emotion, but his gaze never wavered from the necklace. “Could you put this on me?”

Bachira, momentarily taken off guard by the tender way Isagi looked at the necklace, blinked in surprise. But the sincerity in his friend’s gaze was undeniable, and without missing a beat, he grinned and jumped into action. “Okay!” he exclaimed, his energy bouncing back as he reached out to help Isagi.

But before the necklace could be fastened, Chigiri interjected, a concerned expression crossing his face. “Wait, Isagi, I don’t think you’re allowed to wear that. Remember when they even took our wallets?” His head tilted slightly, the memory still fresh in his mind even though it seemed so far away, almost like a forgotten dream.

Isagi didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. His eyes, still alight with an uncontainable happiness, glowed with an innocence that made the rest of the world fade away. “It’s okay,” he said, a serene smile curving on his lips as his fingers gripped the necklace, his excitement clearly unshaken. “I’ll just take them off when I have a match.”

His voice, light and carefree, carried an assurance that made it clear how much this small act meant to him. 

His focus was entirely on the necklace and the small, precious moment they were sharing. There was something so pure in his happiness, as though the world outside had faded into the background and only this little act of connection mattered.

No one responded to him. 

— — — — —

“Someone tell me, what the hell is going on with Isagi?!” Rin’s voice echoed through the hallway as the door to the BM monitor room swung open with a force that sent a poor soul—Igaguri—crashing against the wall behind it. Rin didn’t even spare him a glance.

Yukimiya barely acknowledged the outburst, his gaze fixed on the match he was intently watching, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Nice to see you too, Rin,” he replied coolly, as if it were just another ordinary day in the chaos that often surrounded the team.

Rin’s glare sharpened, burning with frustration. His impatience was palpable. “Don’t give me this crap.” He stepped forward, crossing his arms tightly, his jaw clenched. “I thought this team was supposed to help him get better, yet he’s still beneath me. How is that possible? How is he not improving like the rest of us? You said he had potential. You all said he could be great.”

Yukimiya finally paused the match, his eyes shifting toward Rin, acknowledging the intensity of his words. There was no avoiding the confrontation now. “I’m not his babysitter,” Yukimiya muttered, clearly uninterested in explaining himself, but still unable to ignore the striker in the room.

Hiori, who had been lounging lazily on the ground with a book in hand, glanced up at Rin through half-lidded eyes. His posture was nonchalant, but there was an edge to his voice when he spoke. “No offense, Rin, but why are you asking us?” He tilted his head, brushing his hand through Kurona’s short, messy hair as the younger boy relaxed beside him. “Don’t move, it’ll tangle again,” he added absentmindedly, his focus still on Kurona.

Rin’s frustration deepened, his eyes narrowing into an almost dangerous glare. “Because he’s not answering me,” he spat, voice thick with agitation. “He’s ignoring me like I don’t matter, like what I say doesn’t even get through to him. It’s like… like he doesn’t care about his place on this team anymore.”

Kurona, lying beside Hiori, snickered softly, the corners of his mouth curving into a playful smile. “So you’re just pissed off that he’s ignoring you? Pissed off,” he teased, his tone light but sharp, a contrast to the tension in the room.

Raichi, who had been leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, sneered in Rin’s direction. “We don’t care if your boyfriend broke up with you! Go talk to him yourself,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. It was clear that the team wasn’t exactly thrilled with Rin’s outburst, but they knew better than to let him get away with his attitude.

The words hit Rin like a slap. His jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ground together, his frustration mounting as he felt the sting of their comments. His usual sharp tongue faltered for a moment, but his anger didn’t subside. He was about to hurl more insults, ready to lash out, but the tension in the room shifted when a calm, small hand settled gently on his shoulder.

Rin froze, his glare softening just slightly as he turned to see Nanase standing behind him. There was no malice in Nanase’s expression, just the usual kind of calmness and concern. “Rin,” Nanase said quietly, his voice smooth but firm, “I think your approach is wrong.”

Rin tensed at first, as though ready to snap, but Nanase’s steady gaze held him in place. There was no aggression in his tone, just a quiet understanding that seemed to quiet Rin’s storm, if only for a moment.

Nanase’s hand lingered on his shoulder, a gesture both reassuring and subtle. “Let me do the talking,” Nanase suggested, his words carrying a quiet authority, which shocked Hiori mostly, ‘Isagi would love how much Nanase changed.’ “We all know Isagi’s struggling right now. But yelling at him or pushing him won’t help. Maybe it’s time to approach him differently.”

Rin’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he clicked his tongue in frustration. “Tch. You’re all too soft,” he muttered under his breath, pulling away from Nanase’s touch. But even as he spoke, something in his posture shifted. His anger was still there, but Nanase’s words had made him pause, if only for a moment.

Nanase smiled gently, stepping forward with an almost unnoticeable sigh. “You’re just frustrated because you care about him, right?”

Rin didn’t reply, but the flicker in his eyes—part annoyance, part uncertainty—spoke volumes. He wasn’t just frustrated with Isagi’s progress; he was frustrated with his inability to connect, with his growing sense of helplessness. The last thing he wanted was for Isagi to think that he didn’t matter, that he was somehow being left behind.

On the floor next to Hiori and Kurona, Kiyora sat with his arms crossed, his patience starting to wear thin. His gaze was sharp, focused on the unfolding chaos around him. With a sigh, he spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Look," he began, his tone cool but direct, causing everyone to turn and look at him. "This is all fun and whimsical, but could you discuss it outside?" His eyes flickered over to Rin, the source of most of the uproar. "We’re in the middle of something here. Can we save the drama for later?"

The words weren’t harsh, but there was a quiet authority in them that made everyone pause. Kiyora wasn’t the loudest of the BM members, but when he spoke, it commanded attention. Even if his phrasing wasn’t exactly diplomatic, they understood his point. This wasn’t the time for a confrontation.

However, the BM members exchanged looks, some silently agreeing with Kiyora’s sentiment, though no one liked the way he phrased it. They respected Rin, sure. If Rin was going to keep barging in with this level of aggression, maybe it was time he gave them the same respect he expected. Hiori, usually the easy-going one, let out a soft scoff under his breath.

Before Rin could snap back at Kiyora, Nanase, who had been sitting in the corner with an unusually pensive expression, cut in, his voice calm and steady. "No, no, Rin is right," he said, giving Rin a subtle nod. "I’ve talked to the others. We all agree that something needs to change." He paused briefly, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "I was just wondering... is it something to do with Noa?"

There was a beat of silence as everyone processed Nanase’s words. Hiori blinked, then chuckled lightly, clearly confused by the question. "No, that’s not it," he said, brushing it off with a dismissive wave. "When would Noa ever be mad at Isagi? I’m not buying that."

"In my opinion," he said, a bit more softly now, "it has something to do with that friend of his." His tone shifted to something quieter, more reflective. "Honestly... everything about their interactions was nothing short of strange." Hiori trailed off, his voice almost a whisper by the end of the sentence. His teammates turned their heads toward him, their curiosity piqued by his sudden change in tone. There was an air of secrecy to what he was implying, and for a moment, it felt like he was guarding something personal, something Isagi had kept hidden. The others exchanged wary glances, unsure whether to push him further.

"What friend?" Yukimiya’s voice cut through the air, sharp and insistent. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He wasn’t someone who easily gave in to curiosity, but there was a palpable tension in the room now. Whatever Hiori was alluding to, it was clear that it mattered.

Hiori looked conflicted, glancing around the room as if trying to gauge whether he should share what he knew. His fingers nervously fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. "I don’t know honestly. I feel like I shouldn’t say..." His voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping in.

A collective groan came from the team, followed by the sound of Kurona’s exasperated voice. "Hiori!" they all yelled in unison, a chorus of irritated protests.

Hiori sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Geez… you’re making me feel like I’m the one keeping secrets." He shifted on the floor, trying to get comfortable as he began explaining. "It’s just some guy who’s been living at his house, from what I gathered. They’re childhood friends." He paused for a second, trying to remember more about the other night when he had visited Isagi’s place. "He was very protective of Isagi, like, way more than anyone else. But… Isagi was the same way. They’re close, really close."

The room fell silent as the BM members digested the new information. Isagi had never mentioned a friend like that—certainly not anyone this significant. They had all been close to him on the field, but outside? Isagi’s personal life was a mystery to them. It wasn’t that they never tried to get to know him beyond his role as a teammate—it was more that he had always kept his private life tightly guarded.

Yukimiya was the first to break the silence, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief. "Well...?" His eyebrows furrowed. "And why do you think he’s the reason Isagi was acting strange?"

Hiori, unable to suppress a grin at the memory, let out a soft laugh. "Because he went back to normal the second he saw him," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Like, all ‘highschool girl crush’ type of attitude." He snickered at the thought, remembering the way Isagi had flushed bright red when his childhood friend walked out of the door.

The room froze. The rest of the team was left in stunned silence, their expressions a mix of shock, confusion, and intrigue. Hiori’s playful tone contrasted sharply with the gravity of what he had just revealed, and it made the others uneasy.

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Raichi screeched, clearly surprised by Hiori’s words. 

Kurona and Hiori exchanged glances, both trying to contain their amusement, but it was clear that the revelation had left everyone else reeling. Nanase, however, remained thoughtful, his usual calm demeanor still intact, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

“Just saying, I have the feeling this is about Isagi’s romantic life.” Hiori teased, but quickly changed to something slightly more serious, “it’s best not to intervene, this is his personal life.”

In the dim lit room, no one was able to notice the dark shadow that covered Rin’s face. Except for Nanase, who felt bad for the tall striker. Though Rin was never one to express his feelings ever, but it didn’t take a genius to understand that Isagi was someone Rin held in a really special place in his heart.

However for the longest time Nanase wasn’t able to tell whether it was platonic or not. 

Now he knows. But he isn’t sure Rin is also aware of his own feelings. 

“No way, I didn’t know Isagi swings that way.” Igaguri said, a teasing look on his face.

“Shut up.” Everyone said.

— — — — —

Bachira managed to get Isagi to go eat with him at last. He brought some food when they were going to confront Isagi earlier, but Bachira ate it on the way, which made him guilt trip Isagi into going to the cafeteria once more because he was still hungry.

"Bachira, dinner is gonna start in a few minutes, can’t we come after they actually serve us food?" Isagi groaned, rubbing his stomach in frustration.

“Nuh uh!” Bachira bopped Isagi’s nose with a grin that was pure mischief. "I’ll eat my lunch and dinner," he declared, already bouncing off toward the food station, the energy practically radiating from him.

“Geez," Isagi muttered, his eyes fondly at Bachira's unrelenting enthusiasm. He was always like this, an endless ball of energy that could somehow make even the most mundane moments feel exciting.

With a sigh, Isagi slumped into one of the seats, his thoughts drifting for a moment as he absentmindedly looked around the cafeteria. He had hoped for a peaceful break, but that never seemed to last long.

Suddenly, a loud voice broke through his thoughts.

“The man of the hour! Isagi!”

Isagi turned around sharply at the familiar voice, a mix of surprise and confusion spreading across his face.

“Aiku?” he managed, barely turning back when the man casually patted his head with a grin. Aiku, the ever-charismatic member of Ubers, stood before him, his posture relaxed, as though this was the most casual interaction in the world.

“Sup. Heard you were here, so we came to check you out,” Aiku said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked like he hadn't a care in the world, his laid-back nature making it impossible to figure out if he was teasing or being genuine.

“‘We’?” Isagi asked with a tilt of his head, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to make sense of what was going on. He looked around, expecting maybe a couple of Ubers members but was met with an unexpected wave of familiar faces.

And then, Aiku stepped aside, revealing a few more Ubers players standing behind him. He saw Niko with Aryu, though they were ignoring him, more focused on their tray. But he was disappointed to see that Barou wasn’t there. Then again, he was always more focused on his training more than anything. 

“You were looking for me?” Isagi asked, his tone a mix of confusion and curiosity as he glanced up at Aiku, who was standing in front of him with that typical grin. He barely had time to process the situation when Aiku reached over and ruffled his hair again, this time in an affectionate manner.

“Mhm,” Aiku replied, his voice light but laced with an undercurrent of something far more teasing. He dropped into the seat across from Isagi, his eyes never leaving him. "Heard you were here, so I thought I’d come check out how you’re doing."

Isagi raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out exactly what Aiku was getting at. “What do you mean?” He shifted a little uncomfortably, his earlier moments of calm starting to feel far more chaotic under Aiku’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Aiku chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Word’s been going around, you’re becoming quite the talk of the town. People say you've got a little ‘something’ going on with someone.”

Isagi blinked rapidly, his mind racing to catch up. “What?!" His throat went dry as the words slowly registered. 

Aiku was already in too deep, leaning closer with that grin widening as he saw Isagi’s discomfort. But before Aiku could continue, Bachira plopped down next to Isagi, making sure to sandwich himself between Isagi and Aiku. 

“Where the hell did you hear that from?” Isagi asked, his face full of anger.

“Not sure, someone told Niko, Niko told Aryu, and Aryu told me.” He began, gesturing towards the two sitting on the far end of the cafeteria. “Is it not true? I see that necklace, Isagi, I’m not blind.”

Isagi angrily growled lightly, “well I will turn you blind if you don’t shut up!” 

“Woah! No violence!” Bachira pointed at Isagi with his fork but Isagi simply dismissed him.

“Why are you all worked up about it? It’s just a rumor, nothing like a little romance to stir–”

Isagi  turned away from both of them, his hand tugging at his shirt collar as if trying to cool down. “Can we just eat?” he muttered, not wanting to deal with this conversation any longer.

Aiku chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the flustered state he had put Isagi in. “Sure, sure, we can eat. But don’t think I’m letting this go.” Isagi gritted his teeth, muttering a small ‘asshole’ before finally eating his food.

Isagi, still avoiding Aiku’s smirk, sighed in relief when the food finally arrived, hoping the conversation would shift back to something safer. But, deep down, he knew Aiku wasn’t going to let this go so easily.

— — — — —

When Isagi opened the dorm room, he could immediately tell that something was strange, many were giving him weird looks while others looked at him smugly, he couldn’t tell whether to ask about it or just flatly ignore them.

In his humble opinion, he couldn’t care less, but he knew they would create a very big deal over it later on. 

Thankfully he didn’t need to say anything since they obviously wanted to talk to him about something. 

“Say, Isagi,” Yukimiya began, his voice almost faltering as his eyes drifted from Isagi’s face down to his neck. There, nestled against the curve of his collarbone, hung a glimmering necklace that seemed to catch every shred of light in the room. His gaze lingered there, his lips parting as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. "Woah," he breathed.

The room went quiet, and the others, sensing the sudden change, turned their attention to the necklace. Isagi felt their eyes on him, the weight of their gazes causing him to question them.

Yukimiya’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words, but nothing came. He almost looked as if he were willing to reach out and snatch it off Isagi’s neck, as if the necklace could somehow reveal who had been the one to give it to him. “Who gave you that?” Yukimiya finally managed, though his voice was quieter than usual.

He wasn’t sure if he was asking about the necklace or the person behind it, but it didn’t matter. 

Because Isagi didn’t answer him immediately, allowing others to eye him even more.

Hiori, who had been laying on the bed since he got there, suddenly straightened, his sharp eyes flicking between Isagi and the necklace. His lips curled into a tight smile, but the usual playfulness was gone from his voice. “That’s a pretty serious gift, don’t you think?” he said.

Kurona, who was usually cool and detached, didn’t even bother hiding the flicker of surprise in his eyes. He stood up and moved closer to Isagi, his gaze focused entirely on the necklace now, a sharp glint in his usually emotionless stare. “Someone must really care about you, really,” he remarked.

“Yeah, you could say that.” He shrugged, awkwardly fidgeting with the necklace. He didn’t find it odd that his teammates were too involved in his life, because he thinks he would be too if he saw Chigiri or Bachira had a similar item. It wasn’t everyday the BL members could wear accessories, he thinks Ego is gonna call him any second now.

Hiori’s eyes immediately shot up, widening in realization. “Isagi!” His voice was louder than usual, a mix of shock and excitement, “Did Navitsu give it to you?!”

Before Isagi could react, Hiori was already up from his spot on the bed and closing in on him. His intense gaze fixed on Isagi with the kind of scrutiny that left no room for escape.

Isagi’s breath caught in his throat, eyes flickering with panic. “W-what?” He fumbled for an answer, but it was already too late. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and it wasn’t just from the question itself. His face flushed deep red, and his pulse quickened. He had been hoping this wouldn’t come up—not like this. But Hiori was persistent, a side of him that always made Isagi’s nerves fray at the edges. 

“Don’t lie to me, Isagi,” Hiori teased, his voice a low purr of amusement. He was practically nose-to-nose with Isagi now, inches from his face, and the pressure was unbearable. “You’re blushing.”

But before Isagi could answer, the mischievous glint in Hiori’s eyes became more pronounced. He leaned even closer, and Isagi instinctively backed away, his legs hitting the edge of the room with a soft thud.

Isagi’s chest tightened, the weight of Hiori’s playful teasing becoming too much to bear. His face grew hotter by the second, his heart thundering in his ears. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, trying to compose himself, but it was already clear.

Hiori chuckled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down Isagi’s spine. “Oh?” He leaned in further, causing Isagi to stumble back a step. “So I’m right, aren’t I?” He smirked, delighting in the discomfort spreading across Isagi’s features.

Isagi opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. His mind raced to find a way to deflect, to hide the truth, but Hiori was too sharp.

“It’s just a gift,” Isagi finally managed, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his frustration. “Nothing more.”

“Is that so?” Hiori’s tone was filled with mock disbelief, and the teasing grin on his face widened. He crossed his arms, eyeing Isagi with a mixture of fondness and mischief. “A gift, huh? Then why does it look like your face is going to catch fire?”

Isagi’s hands clenched at his sides, his usual composure slipping away. He looked around the room, his eyes darting everywhere except for Hiori. He wanted to change the subject, to deflect this conversation away from the uncomfortable truth that Hiori was determined to reveal. “It’s not a big deal, really,” he said, his voice becoming more forceful.

“I see,” Hiori purred, the teasing never leaving his voice. “So, when Navitsu hands you something with that look on his face, you’re just going to say ‘It’s nothing special’? Really?”

Isagi felt his breath catch in his throat. The mere mention of Navitsu’s name sent a surge of conflicting emotions through him. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Hiori, not in front of everyone.

“What do you want me to say?” Isagi shot back, his words sharp, though the vulnerability in his tone was unmistakable.

But Hiori didn’t buy it. He tilted his head, watching Isagi with amusement, the glint in his eyes telling Isagi that this was far from over. However, in the heat of the moment, Hiori sensed Isagi’s growing discomfort, and thought he should try to make Isagi relax—he had his fun.

Before he could think of a way to respond, one of the others in the room, Kiyora, spoke up from his spot across the room.

“Guys,” Kiyora’s voice was hesitant, and he looked between the two, his face confused. “Who is Navitsu?” Of course he knew, they just found out, but they couldn’t let Hiori take the fall of what Isagi might think. They are the ones who asked him after all. Also, they wanted to hear what Isagi had to say about it..

The room fell silent as everyone turned their eyes toward Isagi, waiting for him to answer. Isagi felt his throat tighten, the pressure of so many gazes on him causing his anxiety to spike. His mind scrambled for an explanation—anything to get out of this situation.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you all,” Isagi finally muttered, his face still flushed with embarrassment. “It’s nothing special.

But the others weren’t buying it.

Raichi raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right,” he said dryly, “because ‘nothing special’ would make you blush like that.”

Isagi opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. His head was spinning, and the more they pushed, the more he felt like he was losing control. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, and his gaze darted between the group, each face watching him with varying degrees of interest.

The pressure was unbearable, and for the first time in a long while, Isagi felt vulnerable. He wasn’t used to this feeling—being exposed in front of others, his secrets laid bare.

“I’m not telling you,” he said finally, his voice strained, as if that would end the conversation.

Hiori, still grinning, leaned back, clearly enjoying the show. “Alright, alright. I won’t push you... for now. But you owe me an explanation later.”

The tension in the room shifted. Everyone seemed to relax, but there was still an air of curiosity lingering in the air. They might have dropped the subject for now, but Isagi knew it wouldn’t be long before they started digging again. They wouldn’t let it go that easily.

Isagi sank into the nearest bed, exhaling deeply. The flush on his face still hadn't faded, and the adrenaline from the awkward exchange slowly began to drain away. His thoughts were racing, and the weight of what had just happened hung heavy in the room.

“Isagi,” Hiori said, his voice suddenly softer, a hint of concern creeping in. “You okay?”

Isagi looked up, meeting Hiori’s eyes. There was something in the way Hiori was looking at him now—something that wasn’t teasing or playful. For a moment, it was just... genuine concern.

“I’m fine,” Isagi muttered, trying to brush it off. 

But the truth was, he wasn’t fine. 

Not at all.

— — — — — 

“Anri.”

“Yeah, Ego?”

The voice that came from Ego was cold, direct, and there was an edge to it that made the air around him feel heavier. His fingers hovered over the control board, his eyes glued to the big screens in front of him. He hadn’t looked up once as the monitors flickered, switching between different angles and tracking different players.

“Who the fuck was allowed in this building?” Ego’s voice sliced through the air, sharp as a blade.

Anri’s eyebrows furrowed, but her gaze stayed on the screens, scanning through the data. “What do you mean?”

“Who the fuck was allowed in the dormitory without being one of my strikers?” Ego’s question was now laced with growing frustration, each word like a beat of a drum that was getting louder. His eyes darkened, and his fingers started to press down on the keys with a sudden force, as if the pressure from his hands could somehow push away the unease that had settled in his chest.

“No one that I know of. Why? Did something happen?” Anri replied, her voice slightly more cautious now, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. She had worked with Ego long enough to know that when his mood soured, there was usually a reason.

“Yes,” Ego replied flatly, not offering any more details. His gaze remained locked on the screens, but it was evident from the tension in his posture that whatever he was about to uncover was something that irritated him greatly. His long fingers flew over the keys again, rewinding to footage from this morning.

The screens came alive with images from earlier in the day, an unusual scene that had caught Ego’s eye. His sharp eyes narrowed, thickening with concentration as each second of the footage played out.

Anri, standing slightly behind him, leaned in closer, her own curiosity piqued by the change in Ego’s demeanor. She didn’t speak at first, letting him focus on whatever he was seeing. But her gaze quickly flicked to the man on the screen.

“Hm?” Ego muttered, his attention unyielding as he replayed the scene over and over.

“What?” Anri squinted, eyes narrowing as she took in the details of the footage.

She pointed at the screen, where a man from PxG was being cornered by Shidou, who was pushing him toward the training grounds with an intensity that was typical of the aggressive striker. Charles was with him, leaning in, almost as if he were trying to keep the man from escaping.

“Who’s that?” Anri asked, her tone a mix of intrigue and suspicion.

“A random npc from PxG. Irrelevant.” Ego dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, but his eyes stayed fixed on the screen.

Anri wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, but he’s hiding something behind his back, isn’t he?” she pressed, her gaze narrowing even further as she tried to make sense of the scene. There was something odd about the way the man had been acting—too nervous, too fidgety.

The footage played out. Shidou was yelling at the man, pushing him toward the door with a force that left little room for resistance. As they reached the table, the player seemed to almost give in completely, his shoulders slumping with defeat. He dropped a box onto the table with a thud, the lid half-open.

Ego’s eyes darkened, the veins in his temples tightening. He froze the frame, focusing on the box. “Interesting,” Ego muttered. 

They both watched with bated breath as the scene continued. The camera angles shifted, showing Chigiri and Reo coming into the room, their eyes immediately locking onto the box left behind.

Anri tilted her head as Chigiri reached for the box, her mind working quickly. “Do you think they’ll open it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“I’m counting on it,” Ego replied, his expression hardening.

The footage continued, revealing Chigiri and Reo carefully inspecting the box, their movements precise as they opened it. The contents remained hidden from the camera’s angle, but it was obvious that whatever was inside had captured their attention. 

Ego’s mind raced. This was no simple accident. The way the man had behaved, how the box had been left behind so carelessly—he knew something was off. Whoever this PxG player was, he wasn’t just a random athlete. There was a purpose to his actions, and that purpose was now in his grasp.

“This isn’t just a box,” Ego said under his breath, his voice low, his eyes never leaving the screen. “This is part of something much bigger.”

Anri’s gaze flicked back and forth between Ego and the screen. “What are you thinking?”

Ego didn’t answer immediately. His lips thinned as he absorbed every detail, his mind weaving the pieces of the puzzle together. It wasn’t just the box—it was the player’s presence in the dormitory, the way he had been pressured by Shidou and Charles, and now the box being found by Chigiri and Reo. Something was clearly hidden in that box, something that could be the key to unlocking whatever secret the PxG player was involved in.

“I need to know what’s inside that box,” Ego muttered, his voice low and almost dangerous. His fingers moved swiftly across the board, dialing in on the security feeds in the area where the box was now located. He wasn’t going to let this go, not when it could have such an impact on his carefully controlled environment.

Anri leaned back, crossing her arms. “You know this is going to cause trouble, right? Whoever this is, they’re either trying to hide something or create a distraction.”

“I know,” Ego replied, his eyes narrowing with resolve. “And I’m going to make sure it doesn’t stay hidden for long.”

As the footage continued to play, Anri couldn’t help but wonder just how deep this conspiracy went, and what role the PxG player would play in the ever-expanding web of secrets surrounding the Blue Lock team. She knew Ego was onto something, and wherever this trail led, it was bound to bring about consequences they couldn’t yet foresee.

This is chapter 2

1 <- 2 -> 3

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING |

CHAPTER 1 - kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

Pairings: Michael Kaiser x Yoichi Isagi, Sae Itoshi x Yoichi Isagi, Original Character (Navitsu) x Yoichi Isagi

Tags: Slow Burn, Identity Issues, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to even worse Enemies actually, Possessive, Obsessive, Itoshi Sae, Possessive, Obsessive, Michael Kaiser, Bottom Isagi Yoichi, Michael Kaiser is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Smut, Everyone Loves Isagi Yoichi, not following manga after phase 2 so after pxg and bm match i’ll make my own shitcuz i can’t wait for each update also it’s ass wdym nagi is locked off? he’s happily ranked top 10 easily, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Re Al Madrid team based on Real Madrid irl

Chapter 1:

“Oh Yocchan.” He heard his mom call for him from behind him, “you just came back and you’re going out already?” Her solemn face made his heart ache, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stay. Perhaps it was how much her face resembled his.

He shouldn’t have been so delusional

Was he playing football for the sole purpose of pleasing him?

To make him acknowledge him?

It all seems really stupid now that he stopped to think.

“I’m seeing some friends,” he almost forgot to reply to his mom who was still waiting for her sweet boy to answer, “eat dinner without me.” With that, he closed the door behind him.

Should he quit blue lock?

Can he quit blue lock?

Didn’t he say he will bring Japan to victory?

His phone kept buzzing, it was Bachira. He felt bad canceling on him last minute, but he just needed some peace, especially after that argument. He just couldn’t deal with his overly energetic best friend, who will definitely ask questions regarding his tear filled eyes.

Unconsciously, he found himself at the very same place he had once met him. Maybe coming here wasn't the brightest idea, but it looked as beautiful as that day, the sun setting, quiet roads, and the ocean’s colors reflecting onto their faces.

He should probably go back home and pack his stuff. Ego changed the visitation rules, after extreme persuasion, due to complaints of some of the parents in blue lock, saying it was impossible to see their kids nowadays. His parents most likely weren’t one to complain, but they were definitely glad by the sudden change, not like Isagi was ever home.

So, in the end Ego allowed the members of blue lock to go on a two day break after each match they won.

This is the second break Bastard München is given. And the worst day of Isagi’s life.

It was getting dark, and he needed to be at Blue Lock as early as five am. Unlike the others, he has an interview. Just the thought of being on TV was putting a sour taste in his mouth. What if his parents see him and show it to him? He couldn’t let anyone know (impossible).

— — — — —

“We are glad you could make it to the interview Isagi Yoichi,” a polite man sitting in front of him said, scribbling something in his little notepad. “Is that what you want me to call you?”

“Just Isagi is fine, sir.”

The man giggled lightly into his fist, filling the awkward silence in the room. “No need to be so formal, Isagi. Just be yourself!” He turned and smiled at the camera, “isn’t he the most polite boy you’ve ever seen!”

Isagi, even though he tried, couldn’t stop his face from burning up. He gave the camera the smallest awkward smile he could muster. “Thank you, sir.” The interviewer simply sighed at that.

“Let’s start with the interview now shall we?” he turned some pages on his notes, “after coming to blue lock and training under this new environment, did you think you could end up in this position? And getting such offers! How does that make you feel?”

Even though Isagi was expecting such questions, it was still difficult to think of an answer right away. He had to be genuine, or else he’d be lying to himself as well.

“At first,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “I was happy, I thought I could, maybe, catch up to a dear friend of mine…” the reporter looked confused at that, hadn’t he done so much in such a small amount of time? “However, it seems as though whatever I do, wherever I reach, I just can’t– erm… I don’t know to be honest…”

He noticed how depressing he made it sound, “what I mean is! I need to get even higher and become a better striker than anyone else in Japan. So no, I am still not satisfied, until I no longer need any assistance, until I reach the peak of my egoism.”

As he finished, he took a small peak at the reporter, who looked incredibly moved by his little speech, a small plank of pride struck his heart. He was glad he was able to say it with such strength, the reporter finally thanked him and got up to shake his hand.

“You’ll reach your goals one day. I'm sure of that.” He had said. But Isagi could only smile sadly at him. He left the guest room, where the interview took place. He found Bachira outside, obviously eavesdropping, if him falling over the door was any indication.

“Bachira?” Isagi asked softly, cocking his head to the side, his brow furrowing as he took in the unusual sight of his teammate’s position. The wild, unkempt hair and the mischievous glint in Bachira's eyes seemed even more out of place today, and Isagi couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his mind. “Why are you here? How did you know I was being interviewed?”

However, Bachira didn’t seem to get the hint and stayed in his spot, “Yoichi!” He whined as he jumped to hug his best friend in an exaggerated movement which startled Isagi, “you ignored my calls!”

Suddenly, memories of yesterday came flooding in, he had completely forgotten about Bachira and their plans to hang out in the park. “Oh Bachira,” Isagi sat down on the floor to hug back his friend, “there was… an emergency, I’m so sorry. I promise I will make it up to you, we have a match against Barou’s team tomorrow. I will win, for you.”

The words sent shivers down Bachira’s spine. He’ll win, for him? The words echoed in his mind, reverberating with a strange mix of disbelief and something deeper—something he wasn’t quite ready to name. His heart raced as he stood frozen in place, the weight of the promise settling on his shoulders like an invisible force. Isagi had always played for himself, for the thrill of the game, for the joy of the challenge. But this—this was different. It felt… sincere… he knew Isagi would keep his word.

“Okay!”

Isagi, used to his friend, simply smiled and tried his best to pick up his friend who seemed adamant on staying on the floor, “work with me, Bachira.” He playfully pouted at him.

Bachira chuckled lightly and stood up, still hanging onto Isagi’s neck like Nagi would with Reo.

“What are you doing here anyways?” Isagi asked, now walking with Bachira on his back.

“I heard that ego trip from your team talking about how it wasn’t fair they interviewed you instead of the rat king.”

Ness? How did he know now?

"Wait, what were you doing with my team?" His question was immediately interrupted by Bachira before he could finish it.

"Isagiiii," he whined again, this time leaning more into Isagi to emphasize how tired he was. "You ask too many questions! I just really missed you!"

“Okay okay! Just don’t put too much weight on me, geez.”

— — — — —

In the German wing training room, the members of Blue Lock were hard at work, preparing for the upcoming Ubers match. The air was thick with intensity, each player pushing themselves to the limit, but amidst it all, Isagi stood frozen at the entrance. He had arrived late, his mind still caught in the haze of the interview that had dragged on for what felt like hours. His gaze swept across the field, landing on Kurona, who was waving at him.

Isagi’s heart weighed heavy, and the voices in his head grew louder. Why am I even here? he thought, his legs feeling like they were made of stone. I was supposed to quit. I was done with this. The thought of walking away from football, from Blue Lock, still haunted him. The interview had brought everything to the surface—the doubts, the overwhelming pressure to be something he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anymore.

He glanced at Kurona again, who gave him a confusing look, as if asking “why aren’t you joining us?”

Was it worth it to keep fighting for a dream that no longer felt as bright as it once had? The competitive fire, the drive to outshine everyone, had been replaced by a gnawing emptiness, a fear of failure that threatened to swallow him whole.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching his teammates train, wondering if he could still find the spark to keep going. Then, Kurona’s voice broke through his thoughts, calling out to him. “Isagi. We need to boost your technique.”

The words weren't enough to shake the doubt that lingered in his chest. He hesitated, his mind a battlefield between his dreams and the growing fear of failure. But he realized something—the feeling of not belonging was scarier. With a deep breath, Isagi pushed the doubt aside, forcing his legs to move forward, one step at a time. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers yet, maybe he still didn’t know if football was his future, but for now, he couldn’t let go of the one thing that made him feel alive, even if he wasn’t sure what it was.

So he joined them, half-heartedly.

And Isagi passed the ball.

Again.

And again.

And again until it became insufferable for the people around him.

Kurona grew more confused, but he passed the ball back to Isagi once he was near the goal. He hoped it was part of Isagi's plan, because, quite frankly, he couldn’t read any of his moves. Normally, he’d be able to predict at least a few moves—or even the entire match—thanks to his knack for spotting patterns. But now? He couldn’t say the same, not with Isagi.

At first, Kurona believed it was his own fault for not reading Isagi’s moves, but then he noticed that he could easily read the others. Yukimiya passed, Hiori assisted. But Isagi? He couldn’t figure him out. It wasn’t his own fault—Kurona realized it was Isagi’s unpredictability. Yet, that realization didn’t change much. He decided against asking Isagi about it. Ever since the break Ego gave them, Isagi had seemed off, and Kurona didn’t want to press him when he was clearly having a hard time.

The last time they saw each other, Isagi had been fine—excited even. But when they reunited at Blue Lock, everyone noticed how different he seemed. He was more reserved, no longer involving himself in football discussions like he used to.

It wasn’t that he was being mean. On the contrary, he and Kaiser hadn’t fought at all, which was surprising given their past clashes. Back in the game, Isagi glanced at Kurona with raised eyebrows, but all Kurona could do was shrug, mimicking his expression. As Isagi ran with the ball, no—he walked with it, passing it to the nearest person, Kunigami.

It was an understatement to say that Kunigami didn’t notice Isagi’s change. His indifference angered him. It felt as if Isagi no longer cared, and Kunigami couldn’t shake the feeling that Isagi was pity-passing him, as though he thought Kunigami needed help to win.

Before confronting Isagi, Kunigami watched him carefully, and that’s when he saw the pattern—Isagi wasn’t just passing to him. He was passing to everyone, even to Yukimiya, who sarcastically called his pass "embarrassing." The tension built, and everyone anxiously awaited Isagi’s response.

Which was… nothing. He simply shrugged and continued his way towards Noel, who had called him over to discuss something. Moments later, Isagi was switched out with Kiyora Jin, without so much as a protest. He calmly sat on the bench while Raichi screamed at him to pull himself together. Isagi’s response? "It’s just a practice match. Nothing serious."

His whisper-like voice shocked anyone who overheard it.

— — — — —

The air remained tense, even in the locker rooms. It was just them, just the Blue Lock strikers and the center of all their confusion. Isagi seemed even more distanced now that he’s looking at this jersey, the very same one he had proudly shown off to his parents.

He heard distant angry mutters, probably Raichi.

It didn’t take him much effort to cancel out the insults which were directed at the rest of the team. He just wanted to leave and maybe meet up with Bachira, who was currently his only source of comfort. But before he could close his locker door, Raichi slammed it shut for him and grabbed him by the collar.

“And you!”

“Me?”

“Don’t act so innocent and pure you two faced-!”

“Act civil, Raichi.” He heard Yukimiya say, without even trying to get the boy off of him.

“He’s dragging the whole team down! We have a winning streak and he will ruin it.”

“Why don’t you train yourself, idiot.” Kurona finally spoke, his voice soft but firm. While they had all grown closer after joining the same team, some members had started to notice a subtle form of favoritism taking root—Isagi, of course, being the favored one.

Raichi finally let go of Isagi and turned to yell at Kurona instead, who, in return, stuck his tongue out in a mocking gesture, which only served to anger Raichi even further. The rest of the boys in the room started laughing, finally ignoring Isagi and giving him enough space to walk out without any more drama.

Isagi chose to head to the cafeteria, the only place where they could meet with members from the other teams, hoping to see his best friend.

When he arrived, he was greeted by his old friends. “Over here, Isagi!” yelled his red-haired friend, as if he couldn’t see them without the invitation. They exchanged greetings. Bachira immediately jumped on Isagi, hugging him from the side while asking him about practice, his words stretching the vowels.

Isagi chuckled softly at Bachira's over-the-top greeting, grateful for the familiarity and warmth that only his best friend could bring. The tension from the training session, the awkwardness, the doubts... all of it seemed to momentarily fade as he stood there, enveloped in Bachira’s exuberant embrace.

“Come on, Bachira, you’re suffocating me,” Isagi teased lightly, trying to pull away, but Bachira wasn’t having any of it.

“No way!” Bachira grinned, tightening his hold.

Chigiri’s little cough cut through the conversation, clearly trying to get their attention, and it immediately made Isagi feel a deep sense of embarrassment.

“So,” Chigiri began, avoiding eye contact with Isagi, which didn’t matter anyways since Isagi was adamant on focusing on his plate. “You excited for the game?”

Isagi shrugged his shoulders lightly, “it’s okay, I’m more excited to see how our friends have improved so far.”

“Mhm! Same. You’re lucky ya know, this is your third match, hopefully my team gets more matches because this is getting ridiculous.” Chigiri chuckled lightly.

“Well, feel free to take my spot,” Isagi said suddenly, his words dripping with irritation, his frustration evident in the sharp tone of his voice. Yet, it was definitely not directed at Chigiri. He pushed his chair back with a harsh scrape, the sound almost echoing in the quiet room. Without waiting for a response, he stormed off.

A long sigh was heard from behind them, it was Reo. “In a way, it feels as though he needs help, but also needs to be left alone.” He said as he sat down beside Chigiri, “reminds me of how I felt when Nagi left.” He mumbled softly.

“Don’t compare your break up to Isagi’s bad mood.” Bachira said matter-of-factly while eating his noodles.

“It was not a break up!” Reo’s face heated up light, whether from embarrassment or anger, they didn’t know. “But it definitely hurt me more than any girl ever did. So I believe leaving Isagi to sort it by himself would be the best course of action.”

Chigiri didn’t even entertain the idea of leaving Isagi. “The reason I’m still at Blue Lock is because of Isagi. He helped me a lot, and I can’t just turn my back on him when he’s in a place like this.”

Reo let out an exasperated sigh, clearly worn out from the conversation. “Just give him some space!” Chigiri responded by dumping his noodle bowl onto his head.

— — — — —

“Now, I’ll announce the eleven starting players who will be playing in today’s match.

The goalkeeper, Gin Gagamaru.

Our two defenders, Mensah and Karl Birkenstock.

For the wing backs, Ranze Kurona will be the right wing back, and Kenyu Yukimiya the left wing back.

The defensive midfielder is Jingo Raichi. Center midfielder, Ness. Left midfielder, Grim.

The right midfielder… Yo Hiori.”

Hiori’s eyes widened in surprise, his voice rising with urgency. “But, sir! Isagi—” He was cut off mid-sentence, the words still hanging in the air as his concern for Isagi burned through his tone.

“I’ve already made up my mind.” His firm tone left no room for arguments. “Onto the strikers, Rensuke Kunigami will be our top right striker. And our left is Kaiser.

Never underestimate our opponents, they are known for their tactics and intelligent members. Basically, our offensive patterns rely on Kaiser alone. For now at least.”

For some reason, Isagi couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. It was a prickling sensation, like invisible eyes boring into him, unsettling and persistent. He glanced around, trying to shake off the unease, but the feeling didn’t go away. Whoever it was, they were being careful, almost too careful. Their gaze was hidden, but Isagi could sense the weight of it lingering in the air, following his every move, as if they were waiting for him to acknowledge them.

He wasn’t sure if he should turn and confront the source of the feeling, but a deeper instinct told him it was better to ignore it. So, he chose the latter, hoping the sensation would fade if he pretended it wasn’t there.

And so, the team moved towards the field.

Isagi didn’t dare look at his opposing team, it was too bothersome explaining why he wasn’t going to play against them, especially if they came specifically to devour him. He should lay low for now.

He seemed content with hiding behind Igaguri.

“Umm, Isagi,” he heard Igaguri say, shifting uncomfortably in front of him. “I can feel Barou’s glare burning a hole through me, and that guy with the weird bangs is practically staring into my soul. Can you, like, step away? I’m starting to feel like I’m in the middle of some creepy horror movie.”

Isagi rolled his eyes but reluctantly turned to look at them. Which was apparently a terrible decision.

“Isagi you bastard!” Barou charged at him like a bull, his expression a mix of fury and sheer madness that could only be matched by a toddler who just discovered candy. “Why aren’t you playing?!”

“Did you get so bad they’re going to kick you out?” Niko chimed in from behind Barou, arms crossed, his jaw tense with anger. “Because I’d pay to see you get unceremoniously tossed out of here!”

“Hey! I’m just taking a tactical break,” Isagi defended himself, throwing up his hands. “You know, evaluating the situation... running a top-secret analysis on my team’s performance...”

“I think you’re just running from the ball.” Igaguri snickered, trying to stifle his laughter.

Barou interjected, inching closer, not taking his eyes off Isagi, “if you’re gonna bail, at least have the decency to say, ‘Hey guys, I’m officially a benchwarmer now!’”

“Why does everyone want me to play?” Isagi lamented,

Niko raised an eyebrow. “To play? We want to destroy you, and we sure as hell won’t if you’re married to the bench.”

“This is my first time!” He yelled out, blushing from head to toe.

Isagi’s teammates, who had been silently watching the entire spectacle unfold, exchanged amused glances. The tension in the air had somehow shifted into something lighter. Hiori, unable to hide the smirk creeping onto his face, leaned toward Kurona and whispered, “Most he’s ever said in a week.”

Kurona chuckled softly, his gaze flickering toward Isagi, who was still trying to dodge Barou's glaring eyes and Niko's relentless sarcasm. “Yeah, it's like watching him finally snap out of autopilot mode,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement. “It’s almost refreshing, refreshing.”

Hiori nodded, his tone carrying a hint of fondness. “It’s good to see him fight back a little. Even if it’s just Barou and Niko.” He paused, eyes narrowing as if in thought. “But I guess we did need him to wake up...”

“It’s finally time for the highly anticipated Match 5 of the Neo Egoist League! Tonight, we have a thrilling showdown between Italy’s Ubers and Germany’s Bastard München! In his previous match, he stunned the world with a hat trick, catapulting himself into the spotlight as the ‘hundred-million-yen man’—but will Shouei Barou continue his dominance on the field tonight?

And—wait just a moment! It seems there’s been a surprising development! Yoichi Isagi, one of the league's rising stars, is not playing in this match?! That’s right, fans—Isagi won’t be on the pitch today! This comes as a huge shock, as many were eagerly anticipating his intense rivalry with Kaiser. What could this mean for the match?

But regardless, the game is about to kick off! The players are on the field, the atmosphere is electric, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Let’s get ready for some high-octane football action!”

The energy from the crowd was palpable, the buzz of anticipation hanging in the air like a charged storm. The absence of Yoichi Isagi was a strange sight—one that left many questioning how this match would unfold without the player who had been at the center of so many of Blue Lock's defining moments. However, the spotlight now belongs entirely to those still on the field.

The match began with intensity, as both teams immediately went on the offensive. Shouei Barou was a force to be reckoned with from the start. His raw power and precise footwork were on full display as he barreled down the pitch, his every movement exuding the confidence of a player who had no doubt in his mind that he would come out on top. Despite his flashy style, the Ubers had a clear strategy: control the pace, wear down the defense, and allow Barou to strike when the time was right.

But Bastard München wasn’t about to back down. The team was led by Kaiser’s sleek, almost arrogant finesse was evident as he wove through challenges with a smoothness that left defenders grasping at air. It wasn’t just the attackers who made an impact—Yo Hiori’s defensive skills proved a formidable obstacle, matching Barou’s physicality with his own brand of ruthless anticipation.

The match was a tactical duel, with both sides pushing each other to the limit. Barou continued to test Bastard München’s defense, powering through their backline with terrifying ease, but he couldn’t find the opening he so desperately craved. Kaiser, ever the strategist, used his calm composure to bait the Ubers’ defense, always a step ahead of them, creating openings even when there seemed to be none, which reminded the opposing team of Isagi.

Despite the absence of Isagi, the game was anything but dull. Every pass, every tackle, every shot carried immense weight. As the clock ticked on, the tension mounted. Barou had his moments, nearly breaking the deadlock with a thunderous strike that was only narrowly saved by the Bastard München goalkeeper.

Yet, as the match wore on, it became clear that both teams were evenly matched, each unable to gain a lasting advantage. As the final minutes of the first half approached, both sides pushed forward relentlessly, desperate for that one moment of brilliance that could secure victory. The crowd was on edge, knowing that this match was about more than just the scoreline—it was about proving who would dominate the Neo Egoist League.

The second half kicked off with both teams visibly exhausted from the relentless pace of the first half. The Ubers and Bastard München were still locked in a tense stalemate, neither side able to break the deadlock. Barou’s frustration was evident as he glared at the goalposts, having come close on several occasions but still unable to land that decisive strike. Noa continued to direct his teammates with calm precision, while Kaiser, though dangerous, seemed to be struggling with the tight marking from the Ubers' defenders.

But then, an unexpected shift occurred. The camera zoomed in on the sidelines as Isagi, clad in his team kit, stood at the ready. The crowd murmured in surprise as his name echoed through the stadium. The moment everyone had been waiting for had arrived—Isagi was being subbed in for Hiori.

The tension in the air was palpable as Isagi jogged onto the field. There was an almost surreal quality to his appearance, a sense of anticipation following him as he took his place on the pitch. Even without him starting, there was no denying the weight his presence brought to the game. His teammates exchanged glances, wondering what impact the player who had been absent all match could have on the outcome.

Isagi, however, had only one thing on his mind—change the flow of the game. He had seen enough from the sidelines to understand the rhythm of the match and what was needed to break through.

From the moment Isagi touched the ball, the match shifted. His pace was different; his decisions sharper. He wasn’t just reacting to the ball, he was anticipating every move before it happened. Noa and Kaiser immediately noticed the change, but they were too late—Isagi was already in motion. His first touch sent the ball spiraling towards Yukimiya, who, despite his previous frustrations, instinctively knew to pass it back to him.

The Ubers' defenders tried to close the gap, but Isagi was one step ahead, threading a brilliant pass through the tightest of spaces. The ball landed perfectly at his feet, just outside the penalty box. Without hesitation, Isagi took aim. In a swift, calculated motion, he sent the ball flying toward the net.

The goalkeeper lunged for the save, but it was futile—the ball slammed into the back of the net, sending the crowd into a roar of excitement.

“GOAL! Isagi has done it!” the commentator screamed, voice filled with disbelief and awe. “What a strike! After all the tension, Isagi steps up and shows exactly why he’s a player to watch!”

The Ubers’ bench erupted in cheers, while the Bastard München players stood momentarily stunned. Even Barou, who had been so fixated on the ball throughout the match, couldn’t help but crack a small smirk, that was what he’s been waiting for! Isagi had done what seemed impossible, scoring the goal that could change the game.

But for Isagi, it wasn’t just about the goal—it was about proving to himself that he still had what it took. The first half might have been without him, but now he was ready to lead, ready to show that even in the toughest moments, he could make the difference.

The match ended with a thrilling 3-2 victory for Bastard München. The final whistle blew, signaling the end of a brutal, back-and-forth contest. Players from both teams stood frozen for a moment, processing the intense battle they had just endured. For Bastard München, it was a hard-earned victory, with the scoreline barely reflecting the true extent of the struggle on the pitch.

Isagi, his chest heaving with slight exhaustion, found himself leaning against Kurona, who had played a pivotal role in the assist that led to Isagi’s game-winning goal. His goal had been the turning point, the moment that broke the stalemate and sealed their victory, but the satisfaction of it was bittersweet. His eyes met Kurona’s for a brief moment, and the unspoken words of gratitude passed between them. The two had grown close, their bond forged in the heat of competition, and it was moments like these that made everything they had gone through worth it.

Kurona, equally tired but smiling, gave Isagi a quick pat on the back. The rest of the Ubers players erupted in loud cheers, celebrating the hard-fought win.

Meanwhile, in another arena, a different kind of drama was unfolding. The match between Barcha and PXG had ended in a 3-2 loss for Barcha, their spirits sinking as they trudged off the field.

Bachira, ever the eccentric, had managed to score two of the two goals for Barcha. The loss stung—harder for some more than others, but Bachira? His fiery spirit was unsettled, the taste of defeat leaving a bitter aftertaste that wouldn’t fade easily.

“MATCH 5 AND MATCH 6 HAVE BOTH ENDED. NOW, THROUGHOUT THE FACILITY AND ON A LIVE BROADCAST WE WILL ANNOUNCE THE NEW SALARY AUCTION RANKING.”

As Ego announced the salaries, Isagi tried to focus on his name only, unbothered by his fellow teammates who had only managed to be on the poll.

But when he saw that Kunigami and Chigiri had tied for fifth place, he couldn’t help but chuckle. A second later, he felt that same pair of eyes on him again, this time even more intense than before. Isagi finally turned to look at whoever it was, only to find… Hiori smiling softly at him.

It didn’t feel right. That wasn’t the same feeling. The other pair of eyes had felt more driven, more intense.

Isagi’s attention was driven somewhere else when he finally heard his name be called upon, he was in second place, thirty million yen behind Rin Itoshi.

“ALSO, MICHAEL KAISER HAS RECEIVED A NEW OFFER FROM SPAIN’S RE AL, WITH A PRICE OF 320 MILLION YEN.”

Isagi’s eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape as a soft gasp escaped him. ‘Sae Itoshi’s team?!’ his hands instinctively clasping together as if trying to hold in his excitement. ‘The strongest club in the world... they want Kaiser?’

He blinked a few times, his cheeks flushing a little as his mind struggled to process what he had just heard. His usual confident demeanor was replaced with pure, innocent awe, making him look adorably caught off guard.

He tried to gauge Kaiser’s reaction, but his back was turned as he spoke to Ness, who wore a sorrowful expression. So, Isagi let it go. Unbeknownst to him, Kaiser had turned his head to look at him, an unreadable shadow filled his face, his face dark with a tense expression.

— — — — —

“We lost.”

“I know.”

“Rin was unbeatable.”

“I know.”

“My team sucks!”

“I know.”

“It felt like I was the only one playing!”

Isagi sighed as he massaged his friend’s back softly, in an attempt to comfort him. “Well, Chigiri’s team is playing against him right now, wanna go watch?” He said as he pointed at the door next to them.

“No way! I don’t want to see Rinrin again!”

Isagi smiled gently, “if that’s what you want. I need to go pack my stuff now, though.” He tried to get up, but Bachira only pulled him closer.

“Don’t go! Stay here, please!”

Isagi stood there in silence for a few minutes, testing Bachira’s thin patience. “It’s only for two days,” Isagi said. Bachira frowned, and Isagi couldn't help but feel guilty. “I’ll go for one day. I need to do something important.”

Bachira gave him a confused look but reluctantly let go.

When Isagi reached the dorms, head filled with uncertain thoughts, he found that he wasn’t alone. Hiori, Kurona, and Yukimiya seemed to be having some sort of meeting alone, but they seemed to quiet down once they saw Isagi.

“Isagi,” Hiori began, uncertainty clear in his voice, his eyes flicking between Kurona and Yukimiya, who both seemed a little uncomfortable with the situation, “we were talking, and…” Hiori hesitated, looking for support. “And we noticed that you seem to be getting closer to Bachira and your other teammates, rather than, you know… your actual current team?”

Isagi cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand where they were coming from. His confusion was evident.

Noticing his blank expression, Yukimiya sighed and spoke up, his tone a bit more direct. “What he’s trying to say is that it feels like you're pulling away from us, and it’s starting to affect the team. Especially with everything going on between you and Kaiser. The whole team’s dynamics are off because of it, and we’re worried.”

Isagi’s face fell, a sense of guilt washing over him. He hadn’t realized how much his rivalry with Kaiser had been affecting the atmosphere in the team. Was he really making things worse without meaning to? What was he supposed to do now?

Kurona nudged Hiori’s elbow, prompting him to continue. Hiori took a breath, glancing at the others for reassurance. “So, we were thinking… would you be open to hanging out with the team more? You know, just to bring us all back together?”

Isagi took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts of how to make up for his perceived shortcomings. He had been told before that he was a burden, and the weight of that lingered on him, even now. But in this moment, he saw a way to lessen that burden. “Yes, sure,” he replied, his voice steady but his eyes avoiding anyone else's gaze. There was a quiet strength in his words, even though his shoulders sagged slightly. He didn’t need to say more, the tension in the air thick enough to speak volumes.

The trio noticed his change in demeanor, the subtle shift that made it seem as if he was carrying the weight of a lost game on his shoulders. They exchanged glances, unsure whether to press the matter further.

“You don’t have to, ya know,” Hiori said gently, his voice soft, trying to ease the pressure.

But Isagi didn’t flinch. His eyes, though still averted, carried a firm resolve. “No, I need to,” he said, the words coming out with a quiet but unmistakable force. There was no hesitation in his tone, though the frustration seemed to simmer beneath it. It was clear to them that the anger wasn’t directed at them—it was a frustration with himself.

Kurona and Yukimiya both nodded, sensing the underlying emotion without pushing further. They knew better than to prod. They respected his need for space, even if they didn’t fully understand what was weighing on him.

Without another word, they silently agreed to support him in their own way, not pressing him for more than he was willing to share. Isagi had made his decision, and they trusted him to handle it as he saw fit.

“Um… great, I guess,” Hiori smiled gently at Isagi, even if he didn’t see it. “Well, since we won the previous match and have a break, we thought we could all hang out at a karaoke bar.”

They continued discussing the plan and where they should visit, but Isagi naturally tuned them out.

— — — — —

Isagi chose to stay behind at Blue Lock, intentionally avoiding home. Instead, he found peace in the familiar chaos of Blue Lock, surrounded by teammates who, despite their own quirks, understood the strange world they all inhabited. Everything was changing, everyone, except the people here in Blue Lock.

The bus ride was mostly quiet, the sound of tires on the road being the loudest thing between them. That was, of course, until Ness and Raichi got into yet another squabble over something trivial. Isagi couldn't help but smile at how their bickering had become a staple of any group outing, though he made sure to keep his gaze forward, not wanting to get dragged into their latest argument.

Sitting beside him was Hiori, who had surprisingly chosen to stay as well. Hiori wasn’t the type to stay quiet for long, and soon enough, he started to explain why he didn't want to return home either. "My parents… they don't get it," Hiori admitted with a sigh, his eyes distant as he stared out the window. "They want me to be something I’m not. So, I just stopped trying to fit their mold. There's nothing I can do to change that." The weight of his words hung in the air, and Isagi couldn't help but feel a sense of understanding. It wasn't hard to see why Hiori had grown so distant from the game. It wasn’t the sport itself, but the pressure and expectations that followed it.

Behind them, Kurona and Kiyora sat together, exchanging quiet words that Isagi couldn’t quite catch. He’d never really seen the two of them talk much before, but today there was an ease between them that Isagi could almost feel. Kurona had always been a little enigmatic, and Kiyora, despite his cold exterior, didn’t seem so aloof when he was with Kurona. Isagi decided not to intrude. It was one of those rare moments when silence spoke louder than words, and he respected that.

Then, of course, there was Kaiser. Kaiser, who was as unpredictable as he was calculated, had surprised everyone by showing up. His usual aloofness had made him the least likely candidate for any kind of group activity, but here he was, perched in his seat, eyes hidden. Isagi knew something was up. Kaiser never did anything without a reason. He wasn’t the type to join in just for the sake of it.

Sitting next to him was Ness, who seemed entirely too comfortable with the situation. Ness, of all people, was more than used to Kaiser’s weird ways, but it was unsettling for the others. The two of them, together, felt like a powder keg just waiting to explode. Isagi shot a glance at them, wondering if he was about to witness something he'd regret. Kaiser didn’t give a damn about the team’s mood, and Ness was always on the verge of snapping.

Still, Isagi decided to stay quiet. No good would come from getting involved in an argument now. He needed the time to think, to escape the pressures and conflicts of Blue Lock for a while. Arguing with Kaiser—or even Ness—would only waste time. One thing was certain: the ride, while peaceful in its own way, was bound to get interesting sooner or later.

They finally arrived at the dimly lit karaoke cafe. The background noise was filled with music, laughter of his friends, and a faint clinking of glasses. The team sat in one of the private booths, away from the eye of the public. Isagi’s mind, however, wasn’t present with them. He avoided eye contact with everyone while trying to be as polite as he can.

He felt the same pair of dark eyes on him, he would be lying if he said it didn’t suffocate him. He felt seen, as if the person could sense his every twitch. Kaiser's piercing eyes were the only thing he saw when he gently lifted his head.

Isagi’s eyes momentarily widened, before hardening his stare, not backing down from whatever challenge Kaiser had in mind. Kaiser’s only response to that was curling up the corner of his lips. His eyes never once waver from Isagi.

“Hey Isagi, I have a question if you don’t mind.” Igaguri threw his arm around Isagi’s shoulder, as if to prevent him from leaving. He didn’t wait for Isagi’s permission whatsoever and just asked him, “why you acting all weird?” he slurred his words, with a fake sense of hurt.

“I- um, what-?”

“Don’t act so confused. You know you’ve been acting weird.” Yukimiya chimed in.

“I, well…” Isagi thought of ways to explain without embarrassing himself. His fingers fidgeting, “Stuff at home, none of your concern.” He firmly added, the more he let them intervene the more they’ll push, it’s better to stop them now.

Without warning, Kaiser leaned forward, placing his hand on the table with a soft thud. The action sent a ripple of tension through the air. He was so close now that Isagi could feel the heat radiating off his body, and it made his pulse quicken. “You know, Isagi,” Kaiser’s voice dropped, his gaze never leaving Isagi’s face, “I can read people better than anyone. And you? I see right through you.” Isagi heard Ness squeal in surprise, but Kaiser was so close it was impossible for him to avoid him.

Isagi’s breath hitched under the intensity of Kaiser’s gaze. There was something unreadable in them, and that’s what scared Isagi the most. Was it a challenge? Or something even darker? Isagi wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was that Kaiser had a way of making him feel like he was the only one in the room, even when the others were right there. He fought to keep his voice steady. “And what do you see?”

Kaiser’s smirk deepened, his hand now sliding ever so slightly closer to Isagi’s. “I see someone who’s hiding something, or maybe behind something. Someone you can’t seem to get by without. It’s almost... pathetic, how much you remind me of someone.”

Isagi tensed at the comment, his gaze shifting to Kaiser’s face. Kaiser leaned in just a bit closer, if possible, his voice dripping with cold amusement. “You’re so dependent on others—on Bachira, on anyone really—to make up for your own weaknesses. You can’t even play your game without someone else picking up the slack for you. You know what that looks like, right?”

Isagi’s chest tightened at the words, but he fought to keep his expression neutral. Kaiser’s eyes bore into him. It reminded Isagi so much of the day he went back home, of how those same words stung him like a knife.

Kaiser’s words struck deeper than Isagi wanted to admit, but he wasn’t about to let it show. He couldn’t let himself crumble under Kaiser’s sharp observations. Kaiser was right about one thing—Isagi had been relying on others more than he realized.

He tried to warn him, telling him how he simply exists to be on the sidelines. Back then, he chose to take it, just because Isagi loved him, but that doesn’t mean he should hear such words from Kaiser, because Isagi knew he said it because he loved him, unlike Kaiser, who’s trying to ruin his reputation among their teammates.

One second later, Isagi got up and sucker punched Kaiser. The table yelled out in chaos.

The impact of Isagi's fist against Kaiser’s jaw sent a shockwave through the room, stunning everyone into silence for a split second. Kaiser stumbled back, eyes wide in anger. "You son of a!" Kaiser spat, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip, fury in his gaze. His usual bravado faltered slightly, revealing the intensity simmering beneath his cocky facade.

Isagi, chest heaving with adrenaline, stepped forward, fists clenched and eyes blazing. "You think you can just walk all over everyone? This isn’t your kingdom, and I’m not your subject! You’ve gone too far!"

Around them, the crowd erupted into a mix of shouts and cheers, some urging restraint while others roared for more action, as if they were witnessing a match. Friends scrambled to contain the chaos, trying to separate the two, but the electricity of the moment surged like a wild storm.

Kaiser laughed, a low, sinister sound that drew even more attention. "You think a punch will change anything? You're just another pawn trying to play in a game you don’t understand!"

Fueled by the noise and the adrenaline coursing through him, Isagi's resolve hardened. "Then let’s settle this right now. No more games. Just us."

The atmosphere shifted from casual rivalry to something far more personal. All eyes were on them, and a thick anticipation hung in the air. Both players understood that this confrontation was about more than just fists; it was about pride, about proving themselves in a world where they were constantly fighting for recognition and respect.

As Kaiser squared up to Isagi, the crowd parted slightly, forming an impromptu ring. It was a moment steeped in uncertainty, but one thing was clear: this fight would echo far beyond this room, a clash between two rival spirits destined to collide.

— — — — —

“Mm, sorry,” Isagi mumbled, his voice quiet and tinged with embarrassment as he leaned against Hiori, his head a little heavier than usual. Hiori was carrying him, his strong arm wrapped around Isagi’s shoulders as they walked through the dimly lit streets toward Isagi's house. It wasn’t the way he’d imagined his night would end—especially not after everything that had happened. He winced at the throbbing pain in his temple, a reminder of his rash actions.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hiori reassured him, his voice steady but with an undertone of frustration. “We all blame Kaiser. He ruined the night for everyone.”

Isagi could hear the sincerity in Hiori’s voice, but the guilt still gnawed at him. The image of Kaiser’s smug face kept replaying in his mind, that moment when he’d let the other player push all his buttons. “Still, I shouldn’t have been so dramatic,” Isagi muttered, shaking his head slightly. He was trying to push through the haze of dizziness that clouded his thoughts. “I knew he was trying to get under my skin and... I let him. I don’t know what came over me.”

Hiori shot him a concerned glance, pausing for a moment as they walked. “Don’t speak,” he said gently but firmly. “I think you’re concussed.” The words were soft, yet there was a sharp edge of worry in them that made Isagi pause. Hiori’s tone softened even further, his usual playful banter replaced with something more protective. “You’ve been through a lot. Let’s get you inside and rest. We can talk later.”

Isagi wanted to argue, to brush off Hiori’s concerns, but the pounding in his head made it hard to concentrate. He let out a small sigh and allowed Hiori to guide him, silently grateful for the other’s calm presence. As they continued their walk, the quiet between them grew more comfortable, and Isagi couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief in Hiori’s steady support. It was the kind of comfort he didn’t realize he needed until it was right there, with someone who actually cared.

The night, with all its chaotic energy, now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the lingering sense of vulnerability and the quiet understanding between them.

They finally reached Isagi’s house, and Hiori knocked on the door, patiently waiting for someone to answer. He tried to adjust the sleeping Isagi in his arms, but before he could get comfortable, the door swung open. Expecting to see Isagi’s mom or dad, Hiori was instead met with someone slightly older than he was.

“Oh my God! Yocchan!” The guy immediately rushed to Isagi’s side, lifting him with much more ease than Hiori had. He called for Isagi’s mom while gently brushing Isagi’s hair with his fingers.

Before Hiori could try to calmly explain the situation, Isagi’s mom appeared at the door, her face etched with worry. “Aunty, you talk to his friend, I’ll go put Yocchan to bed,” the older man spoke without waiting for another beat, swiftly heading inside with Isagi still in his arms.

Isagi’s mom’s gaze softened as she turned to Hiori. “Aw, I can’t thank you enough, Hiori, right?” Her voice was gentle and familiar, much like how Isagi spoke, but with a maternal warmth that made Hiori feel instantly at ease.

“Yes, ma’am, Yo Hiori,” he responded, bowing politely. Despite his usual calmness, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous under her gaze.

“Oh, sweetie, no need for all that. Just come on in,” she said, her voice kind yet firm, ushering him inside with a motherly insistence.

Hiori’s face immediately flushed at the unexpected warmth. “No, no! It’s okay, I have to get home now,” he stammered, trying to back out politely.

“There’s no way I’m letting a young boy go out this late at night,” she insisted with a bright, welcoming smile. “You’re staying the night. Call your parents, and tomorrow you can go home. It’ll be safer this way.” She practically pushed him inside, her hands gentle but firm, and Hiori felt a wave of comfort—though he couldn’t help but think that her maternal energy reminded him a little too much of Bachira’s own non-stop enthusiasm.

As he took off his shoes, Isagi’s mom headed to the living room to talk to Isagi’s dad. The moment the man saw Hiori, he immediately stood up and walked over to greet him before heading toward Isagi’s room, a worried expression on his face.

“What would you like for dinner? Yoichi never mentioned he’s coming over so I didn’t make any extra.” She said absentmindedly, looking at what’s inside her fridge. “That boy, he really wants to kill me. Never telling us about the ins and outs of his life.”

“No, it’s alright, we ate at the cafe.”

“You sure? I would love to make you something.” She said in a sweet tone, nothing he was used to.

“Absolutely.” Blushing while playing with his zipper, Hiori softly mumbled.

The young man entered the living room again, his posture now more relaxed, though there was still a sense of tension in his demeanor. “Yocchan is asleep now. Uncle says he’s fine, but he did take a couple punches,” he said, his voice softening as he spoke about Isagi. Then, without warning, his gaze snapped to Hiori, intense and filled with anger. “What the hell happened?”

The sudden shift in his expression made Hiori flinch. It was a glare that sent a chill down his spine, reminding him so much of Rin’s icy gaze whenever someone dared to get too close. Hiori’s throat tightened, and he suddenly felt very small under the scrutiny.

“It was just a spat between Isagi and another teammate. Nothing unusual,” Hiori tried to explain, though his voice wavered slightly under the intensity of the older man's stare.

“Nothing unusual? You’re telling me Yoichi gets hit like that on the regular?” The man’s voice rose with frustration, disbelief lacing his words as his gaze never left Hiori.

Hiori’s heart skipped a beat at the accusation. He quickly waved his hands, trying to smooth things over. “What? No! It’s not like that! It was different today because the whole team was present. Usually, we’re split up to avoid situations like this.”

The young man didn’t seem to soften, but the tension in the room slowly disappeared. Before he could respond, an older voice interrupted them.

“Navitsu, stop blaming the poor boy. He brought Yoichi home after a fight. Give him some credit, at least.” Isagi’s mother entered the conversation, her voice gentle but firm as she gave him a look that silenced him for the moment. She moved towards Hiori, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Thank you, Hiori. I appreciate you taking care of him."

Navitsu shot one last glance at Hiori, his eyes still full of suspicion, but with a reluctant nod, he finally backed off. The room fell into a more comfortable silence, but Hiori couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't fully earned his trust yet.

— — — — —

The next morning, the quiet hum of the house was disrupted by muffled voices coming from the living room. Hiori, still stretched out on the floor of Isagi’s room, groggily awoke to the sounds of the conversation. His eyelids fluttered open, and he squinted at the unfamiliar surroundings, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. The light from the window streamed in, casting soft shadows across the room, but the voices in the other room drew his attention.

Curious, Hiori slid off the floor, his limbs stiff from sleeping on the hard surface, and tiptoed toward the door. As he crept closer, the words became clearer, but the conversation was still muffled, and Hiori couldn’t quite make out what was being said. He found himself inching closer until his back pressed against the wall just outside the living room.

Inside, Isagi was sitting at the table, his brow furrowed in frustration as he rubbed his head, his posture slouched. He looked the same as he had the night before—exhausted and stressed. His voice was strained as he asked, "Why did you tell Navitsu?"

His mom’s voice was softer but filled with an understanding tone. “Yoichi, he was the one who saw you in that state first. How could we hide it from him?”

Isagi groaned, clearly not wanting to hear it, but his dad’s voice cut through the tension as he ate his breakfast with his usual casual demeanor. “And again, it was your fault you got into this mess,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “If you’re that embarrassed of him seeing you like that, maybe don’t—”

“I am not embarrassed!” Isagi’s face flushed a deep red, his irritation mixing with a hint of humiliation. He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly defensive, though his reddened face betrayed his true feelings.

His parents erupted into laughter, teasing him mercilessly, and Isagi could only glare at them, his embarrassment growing. The lightheartedness of the moment felt almost like a cruel contrast to the tension from the night before.

Just as the laughter settled, Hiori froze, realizing he wasn’t the only one who had been listening. From behind him, a voice broke the momentary silence, causing Hiori to nearly stumble out of his hiding spot. Navitsu, with a knowing smirk on his face, leaned casually against the doorframe, a much softer expression than the anger he had shown yesterday. "Are you eavesdropping?"

The question hung in the air, but there was no harshness in his tone—just a teasing lilt. Hiori straightened up, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks as he glanced over at Navitsu, unsure how to respond.

Before he could come up with anything, the door to the living room opened, and Isagi appeared, seemingly sensing Hiori's presence. His eyes locked onto him almost immediately, and with a soft sigh, Isagi stepped forward to rescue him from the awkward moment. “No, I asked him to wait for me here so we could go back to Blue Lock,” he explained, his voice steady but laced with a hint of impatience.

He gently grabbed Hiori’s arm, a gesture that was both protective and reassuring, and guided him back toward his bedroom. As they passed through the doorway, Isagi moved quickly, already packing his things, his movements purposeful. Within moments, he was ready to leave, and though the tension of the morning still lingered, there was a subtle calm between the two of them now.

The moment felt like a brief escape from the chaos, even if it was only temporary. Isagi didn’t say anything else, but Hiori could feel the weight of everything—his own feelings, the lingering tensions with his teammates, and the complexity of his bond with Isagi. It was all there, between them, unspoken. But for now, they were heading back to Blue Lock together.

It felt out of place to just leave without saying any goodbyes, but Isagi’s family didn’t seem to expect any. Maybe this was the norm for them, and that’s why Hiori didn’t bring it up. It was a strange feeling, though, as if something had been left unsaid. The simplicity of the moment left Hiori a little confused but he decided not to dwell on it.

The walk to the bus stop was different today. The usual quiet that was often comfortable now felt like a distant wall between them. The easy comfort they’d shared before was absent, replaced with a subtle tension that Hiori wasn’t sure how to read. He wanted to ask Isagi what was bothering him, but it didn’t feel like the right moment. After all, he didn’t want to push him if he wasn’t ready to talk.

Isagi seemed to sense the unspoken questions. “Just say it,” he said, his voice breaking through the silence. He turned slightly, offering Hiori a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You want to say something. It’s obvious.”

Hiori hesitated, his thoughts racing for a moment. “Who was that? Your brother?” he asked quietly, trying to keep his tone casual, though the curiosity was clear in his eyes.

Isagi's response was immediate and firm. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Just a family friend. He’s lived with us for most of his life.”

Hiori didn’t press further. He could tell by the way Isagi spoke that the topic wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. With a quiet nod, Hiori accepted it, the conversation falling into an uneasy quiet once more.

The silence stretched on, thick and palpable. It felt like they were walking through a fog, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The once-comfortable morning now felt like the longest walk Hiori had ever taken. The distance between them was subtle, but there was something unspoken that neither of them had the words to address.

“It’s written all over your face, ya know,” Hiori said, his voice casual but carrying an almost teasing undertone.

Isagi blinked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He shifted his gaze to Hiori, silently asking for clarification. What was he talking about? Hiori was definitely hinting at something.

Hiori leaned back slightly, folding his arms with a small, knowing smirk curling at the corner of his lips. His eyes didn’t leave Isagi as if he were trying to read something that was written just beneath the surface. “You admire him, just like you do Noel Noa,” he continued, his voice dropping a little, almost as if he were daring Isagi to admit it. "I wonder..."

Isagi's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained neutral, though the faintest flicker of uncertainty passed across his features. His mind raced, trying to piece together what Hiori meant. Was he talking about Kaiser? No way! Maybe someone else? Was it that obvious?

Hiori paused for just a moment, and in that brief silence, it was as though he had said something more, something unspoken that lingered in the air between them. He didn’t finish the sentence, but Isagi could tell what had been left unsaid. It wasn’t hard to imagine. The unspoken words were there, hanging heavily in the space. Admiration. Obsession. A desire to be more than a friend.

Isagi bit his lip, the tension in his chest growing. He wanted to respond, to dismiss it, but something held him back. Maybe it was because Hiori wasn’t wrong. Maybe it was because there was a part of him that did admire Navitsu, much like he did Noa—a part of him that longed to match their greatness, to stand beside them, to be seen in the same light. Was that such a bad thing?

He met Hiori’s gaze again, this time with a quiet intensity, silently begging him not to press further. The last thing Isagi wanted was to admit how much of an impact his friendship with Navitsu was having on him—how it wasn’t just about competition, but something deeper, something personal.

Hiori didn’t push, though. He simply gave Isagi a knowing look before his lips curved into a slight smile. It wasn’t mocking, but it was full of understanding—an unspoken acknowledgment that he knew more than he was letting on.

Isagi’s heart pounded in his chest, and for a split second, he felt exposed, as though Hiori had peeled back the layers of his carefully crafted walls. But he didn’t let it show. He just nodded slightly, as if to say, I get it.

Hiori leaned back, now watching Isagi closely, but there was a shift. It wasn’t about teasing him anymore, not even really about pushing buttons. It was more like Hiori was trying to gauge the depth of the internal conflict swirling inside his teammate. He’d known Isagi for a while now, and though they weren’t the closest, there was an understanding between them, a sense that Isagi wasn’t just a player but someone with aspirations, someone carrying a burden he wasn’t always ready to share.

“Right,” Hiori muttered, almost to himself, his expression softening slightly. "Well, maybe you should think about that before you get yourself tangled up in a rivalry that's more personal than you'd like to admit."

Isagi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. He just glanced away, looking out into the distance as the weight of the conversation settled on him. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about the implications of his admiration and rivalry with Navitsu, but it was the first time someone had pointed it out so bluntly. It made him feel uneasy, almost self-conscious, as if he had been exposed in a way he hadn’t planned for.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Isagi could feel the silence stretching between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was more like a mutual understanding, one that neither of them had to vocalize, because at that moment, they both knew the other person had already figured it out.

Isagi sighed softly, his gaze shifting back to Hiori, who had a quiet, contemplative look on his face. The kind of look that said he wasn’t judging him, just... observing. And for some reason, that was enough.

This was chapter one, chapter two ->

[marvojpr]

A GAME WORTH PLAYING | Masterlist

kaisagi, saesagi centric

Summary: Isagi Yoichi has a friend. Boy does he love him, a little too much, almost concerningly so. Unfortunately for him, there are some people out there who love him just as much. One fight with his boy and he went spiral, so it is up for a certain someone, to make him see his true self and maybe keep Isagi as his.

Oh and Isagi doesn't get the boy. He's devastated.

Inspired by Strangers from Hell the show and webtoon.

i | HE HIT ME AND IT FELT LIKE A KISS

ii | NECKLACE? I'LL RIP IT OFF YOUR NECK—WITH YOUR NECK

iii | FLASHBACK FRIDAY

iv | HE BITES AFTERALL

v | DON'T HURT 'EM NOW

vi | I HATE THE RAIN

vii | ADAPT, OR BE DISCARDED

viii | WON'T YOU JUST MAKE LOVE TO ME?

ix | CIGARETTES OUT THE WINDOW

x | SECOND THOUGHTS

xi | MADRID AND ITS… ODDNESS

Original Characters:

Navitsu Arata

ongoing on

ao3