Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Growing up, your dad loved taking you to sporting events; volleyball, baseball, basketball, and even tennis. It had started out as a way to bond, but quickly turned into a genuine love for sports. No matter the weather, the two of you could always be found cheering from the sidelines.

The bond between the two of you was much needed as your mom had passed away giving birth to you. The little you knew about her came from your dad's stories, the pictures in the family album, and the golden bracelet your mom had passed down to you. The bracelet was engraved with tiny marigolds and you made sure to take good care of it.

After your mom’s passing, your dad, and in turn you, had been shunned by your maternal grandparents. They left your dad to fend for himself with a newborn. There wasn’t much your paternal grandparents could do besides send care packages as they lived all the way in America.

Nobody else would be there for you two. It was you and your dad against the world. It could be lonely when he left for business trips, but you knew he was working hard to provide for the two of you.

That’s why it was so important to your dad to spend quality time together. Sports just happened to be the medium. He didn’t just bring you to watch; he made you part of the experience. He taught you the game's rules, positions, strategies, and each player's strengths, and weaknesses.

Being around athletes your whole life sparked something in you. You admired the player's dedication, camaraderie, and their drive to be a part of something bigger. Soon you found yourself wanting to cheer them on, not just from the stands, but on the field or court.

You were given the opportunity to join the cheer squad as a flyer back in junior high; an opportunity you quickly took hold of. You absolutely loved it. Seeing the awe in the audience’s eyes and the morale boost it gave players made it all worth it. Not to mention the ego boost it gave you.

Cheerleading became your way of living out the excitement you once watched from the stands. It was your way of being part of the action, of contributing to the electric atmosphere you fell in love with.

National High School Soccer Championship: Saitama Prefectural Finals

The energy in the stadium was more infectious than normal, with people screaming and cheering on their respective schools. The amount of time left in the game was slowly ticking down. You had always loved the last few minutes of a sports game. The energy shifted and it made your skin tingle.

Matsukaze Kokuo High School was up 1 – 0 against Ichinan High School. Despite Ichinan’s reputation as a soccer powerhouse, not a single member of the Matsukaze cheer squad seemed remotely worried. Each member was fully confident in their team’s ability to pull out the win.

And why wouldn’t they be?

Matsukaze had Kira Ryosuke; Japan’s Crown Jewel. His name was plastered all over sports blogs and news highlights. Hell, there was even a rumor floating around that he had been invited to join the national youth team.

Personally, you had always thought the nickname was a little much. He was talented, no doubt about it, but the nickname didn’t sit right with you. The media seemed too eager to name the next generational prodigy like they had done with Itoshi Sae.

They were setting Kira up for failure. You truly believed that.

How did that saying go again? Oh yeah.

‘The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall.’

Your thoughts swirled, making you too distracted to notice what was happening on the field.

And then - whoosh - a blur of movement.

Ichinan’s #11 had taken possession of the ball. The crowd’s cheers dimmed to a low hum in your ears. Your heart skipped a beat. When had he even gotten the ball?

Technically, you were supposed to be rooting for Matsukaze. But your eyes kept drifting to Ichinan’s #11. He had the kind of raw, unpolished brilliance that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he closed in on the goal, your heart betrayed your team just a little. You wanted him to make it. You wanted to see if he could finish what he started.

So while everyone around you held their breath for a save, you were secretly hoping for something else. Not because you wanted your team to lose, but because sometimes, the most exhilarating moments came from the players no one saw coming.

“Crap! He’s way too close right now!!” one of your teammates anxiously yelled out. Suddenly, Ichinan’s coach erupted from the sideline. He was shouting at #11, but his words were swallowed by the noise and distance. Still, whatever he said hit its mark.

Something shifted in #11’s expression, a flicker of hesitation flashing across his face.

In that split second, everything changed.

Instead of taking the shot himself, he made a split-second decision and passed to #9. You couldn’t help, but be a little disappointed.

#9 wound up and struck, aiming to tie the game up.

The ball soared, a clean arc through the air, and missed. #11 had given up his shot for nothing. He had submitted to his coach’s pressure and let it override his instinct.

The cheer squad burst into action, voices rising in unison as the captain threw up the signal for the offense chant, one of your favorites. You could feel your voice straining, but you didn’t care.

The tension crackled in the air as Matsukaze countered. In a flash, they regained possession, and the ball found its way, almost inevitably, into Kira’s possession. He sent the ball soaring into the net with one final, powerful kick.

Goal!!!

The stadium and cheer squad exploded into a frenzy of celebration. There was no holding back; jumping, screaming, hugging, spinning, you were all caught in the pure joy of victory.

Matsukaze had won and with that, the cheer team was also headed to nationals!

As the final whistle echoed across the field, the crowd surged with excitement. Everyone rushed to get a closer look at Kira, who now stood at the center of a small media swarm. Apparently, the rumors were true. He was invited to join the national youth team.

You moved to join the celebration, pulled by the energy of your teammates, but your gaze drifted toward the other side of the field. Toward Ichinan’s players.

They stood scattered and quiet, some with hands on their hips, others crouched low to the ground, heads hung.

A quick pang of sadness hit you, but it faded as easily as it came, swept away by the roar of the crowd. Such was the privilege of the winners.

All that was left for the losers was the sting of what could’ve been.

You felt so incredibly full. The soccer team had invited the cheer squad out to a local BBQ spot to celebrate their hard-fought victory, and you hadn’t hesitated to join. You were a bit of a glutton. You definitely overindulged, but you considered it a reward for your hard work. After all, your voice was hoarse from cheering so loud and hard during the game.

Slowly, your mind wandered back to something that had stuck with you during the meal. The team had been teasing Kira about one of his post-game interview answers.

“He says, ‘I’m only here because I have everyone on my team.’ Can you believe this guy!?” Inaba, the goalkeeper, had laughed, and given Kira a friendly punch on the shoulder.

Kira just smiled, unfazed, and simply said, “But it’s true.”

Honestly, you shouldn’t be questioning Kira. He was a great guy, always friendly when you crossed paths in school. It’s not like he did anything wrong either. The sentiment was nice, sweet even, but something about it bugged you.

Thinking about it, all you wanted to see from him was a little ego. A little fire that said, ‘I can do this because I am the best’. Could someone even succeed in professional soccer without being egotistical?

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thought. It clung to the edges of your mind like an annoying fly, buzzing just out of reach, darting back the moment you thought you’d finally swatted it away.

Maybe you were overthinking it. Soccer is a team sport, after all. Eleven players, working as one.

Maybe it wasn’t even about him. Maybe it was about what it said; about the fine line between humility and cowardness. Between being selfless and fading into the background.

“I’m home!” You cheerfully call out as you enter your house. It felt so nice to be back home after such a long day. Your muscles ached and all you could think about was taking a hot bath before wrapping yourself in blankets and disappearing into your bed.

“Welcome home! How was the game?” your dad’s voice boomed from the living room, warm and familiar. You could practically picture him already. Half-reclined on the couch, snacks in arm’s reach, eyes glued to the TV screen.

Chances are, he was deep into the latest batch of American ‘pro-wrestling’ matches. At first, the two of you had watched ironically. You poked fun at the dramatic entrances, over-the-top acting, and flashy outfits. Neither of you was willing to admit how hooked you were on the totally staged wrestling.

You lazily strolled into the living room. Without hesitation, you flopped onto the couch beside your dad, limbs sprawled like a starfish. One look at the TV confirmed what you already suspected. You made a mental note to watch the match later after your bath, maybe with a snack in hand.

“Our school won! We’re going to nationals,” you said, unable to hide the pride in your voice. You lifted your hand, palm up, waiting.

Your dad’s face lit up as he eagerly leaned in and smacked your palm with a loud, satisfying high-five, followed by a loud whoop.

“I knew you would win!” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Even if the soccer team played like they had two left feet, the cheer squad would’ve kicked them into overdrive with sheer power alone!”

That was the thing about your dad. No matter how old you got, no matter how many matches or performances you went through, he was always your biggest supporter. You were lucky to have him.

His grin faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful frown, like he’d just remembered something important. ‘Was something wrong?’

“Oh! I almost forgot,” he said, patting his thigh distractedly as he leaned forward. “A letter came in the mail for you.”

“A letter? Who’s it from?” you curiously asked. You weren’t expecting anything in the mail anytime soon.

“It’s around here somewhere…” he mumbled, shuffling toward the kitchen counter where unopened mail tended to collect. You stayed seated, watching as he sifted through the clutter until his eyes lit up with a small, triumphant glint. “Ah hah! Here it is.”

He ambled back toward you, letter in hand, brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at the return address. “Says it’s from the Japan Football Association?”

Huh?

Chapter Text

Your mind short-circuited, processing the words with a half-second delay. A letter from the Japan Football Association?

You took the envelope slowly, the paper firm and official feeling in your hands. A mix of confusion and anticipation swirled in your chest. You hadn’t applied for anything. At least, not that you remembered.

You took a deep breath and opened the letter.

Dear Ishikawa Miharu,

You have been selected as a candidate for the Football Management Internship as part of an initiative jointly organized by the Japan Football Association (JFA) and the Japan Sport Association (JSPO)...

You quickly finished reading the rest of the letter and were soon overwhelmed by the opportunity. The program would involve being a manager for the Blue Lock Project, an insane initiative to change Japanese soccer.

The top intern would be offered a paid administrative position with the U-20 National team. Moreover, all interns who complete the program would receive a letter of recommendation to an organization or institution of their choosing, given their elimination is not due to rule-breaking.

Unfortunately, you still had to take a written examination and undergo an interview to earn one of twenty-five available intern spots. Only then would you officially be a part of the program. It was bound to be competitive.

You stare at the letter in your hands, reading it again, even though the words haven’t changed. Your eyes trace the emblem at the top; the one that says Japan Football Association.

Your dad shifts in his recliner across the room, a wrestling match on mute in the background.

“So?” he asks, giving you a hopeful glance. “Good news?”

You blink out of your haze. “Yeah… I think so?”

He raises an eyebrow. You hand him the letter, still unsure how to explain it. He reads quietly, eyes widening in surprise. “Wow.”

You let out a soft sigh. “I mean, it sounds incredible. Like, seriously. A national-level program? Who gets letters like this?”

“You do.” He gave you a side glance, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“But?” he prompted gently.

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I just don’t get it. I’ve never managed a team, let alone a soccer team. I cheer for them and I know the rules thanks to you, but this is completely different.

Your dad nodded thoughtfully. “It is. But it also means someone out there saw something in you.”

You sit with that for a moment, letting his words hang in the air.

“I know I can learn,” you say finally. “I just… I need time to process it. I don’t want to rush into it just because it sounds impressive.”

“Hey,” he said, tapping your shoulder lightly. “You’ve got time. Sleep on it. Remember, I’ll always be on your side.”

You smiled at that and finally let your body relax. “Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll take a bath. Let my brain soak for a bit.”

You decide the opportunity is too good to pass up. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?

The next few days blur into an intense cycle of studying as your brain works overtime to cram every soccer-related fact you can. Thankfully, your connection with the soccer team proves fruitful. Books and manuals can break down strategies, but first-hand experience from experienced players is always better.

At some point, curiosity gets the best of you. You ask about Kira, but all you get is a shrug. He’s been out of it ever since receiving a letter in the mail.

Interesting.

Before you know it, the exam date has arrived.

The exam center is deceiving. From the outside, it looks plain, even forgettable, just another building with concrete walls and a sterile sign out front. You step inside and take everything in. The air is cool and high ceilings loom overhead, lit by glaring fluorescent lights that give it a clinical feel.

You take a breath, steadying your nerves, and walk toward the front desk.

“Hello, I’m Ishikawa Miharu. I’d like to register for the exam and interview,” you say, holding out your letter and ID with both hands like you’ve rehearsed.

The attendant scanned your documents with practiced precision, his eyes flicking over the paper before reaching into a drawer. He hands you a cold, plastic name tag labeled CANDIDATE #32.

“The written examination will begin in fifteen minutes,” he says flatly, not looking up. “Proceed to the waiting area with the other candidates.” He points at a door off to the side.

You nod, your fingers tightening around the name tag. The edges press sharply into your palm.

You’re fine. You’ve prepared for this.

As you walk toward the door, the low murmur of voices grows louder.

You push the door open.

The waiting area is packed, crammed really, with nearly a hundred girls. A surprising amount for your prefecture.

The hum of whispered conversations is accentuated by the distinct sound of heels clicking against the floor. Every seat is filled, every girl alert, scanning each new arrival like fresh meat. Eyes flick to you as you enter.

You step inside and look for a place to sit. No such luck. Instead, you choose to stand off to the side and quietly observe the others before the exam starts.

A glance around makes your stomach flip. Everyone is dressed to the nines. Some girls are in tailored suits, their hair slicked back into perfect buns. Others wear skirt suits with crisp collars and name-brand briefcases clutched to their sides. A few even brought portfolios, like they were about to present to a board of directors. The rest fall somewhere between business casual and school uniform neatness.

You straighten your shoulders. You have full confidence in your presentation; a neatly pressed blouse, and pleated skirt that’s modest but smart. Not too flashy, not too plain. Everything about your look is intentional. You may not have the sleekest heels or a leather portfolio, but you’re not about to let anyone outshine your presence. You polished yourself head to toe for this.

Look good, feel good, do good.

Your fingers graze the delicate bracelet on your wrist. It’s barely noticeable, but its weight grounds you.

The fifteen minutes vanished in what felt like seconds. You’d spent the time mentally rehearsing everything you knew; soccer terms, leadership strategies, rules, and everything else under the sun.

Then a voice came through the overhead PA:

“Candidates, please enter through the north door for the examination. All personal belongings must be left in the waiting area.”

Displeased murmurs echoed off the walls. No one liked the idea of walking in empty-handed. But rules were rules, and no one dared break them.

You placed your bag down and followed the stream of girls filtering toward the far door.

The exam room was cold and harsh.

“Desks are labeled by candidate number. Please locate yours immediately.”

You found your desk, #32, near the far left of the room. A folder with the exam inside. A basic calculator. Writing supplies are arranged with precision. Nothing else was on your desk.

Overhead, you could feel the watchful presence of surveillance cameras; one in every corner, blinking red. A proctor stood at the front of the room.The reality of the situation was starting to set in. You did your best to stay calm, but the pressure was building.

“The exam will consist of thirty-five multiple choice questions, ten true-or-false, and five short answers.”

Alright, 50 questions in total. You could handle that.

“Cheating of any kind will not be tolerated. Surveillance is active. Proctors are stationed throughout the room. Any violation will result in immediate disqualification.”

You had no intention of cheating. But the cameras, the silence, the tension; they crawled across your skin. You could hear the slight creak of someone’s chair. The scratch of someone testing their pen.

“You may now begin.”

Your fingers trembled slightly as you opened the folder. No turning back now.

You were positive you had blacked out during the exam.

Not literally. Your body was there, your hand had moved, and the answer sheet was filled in. But your brain? It felt like it had detached somewhere around question twenty-one and never fully reconnected.

Everything after that was a blur of bubbles, short answers, and the occasional spike of panic. A handful of girls had been eliminated for attempting to cheat, but a good number of girls remained.

Now, you sat back in the waiting area, the exam behind you, but your nerves hadn’t calmed down. The room felt different, quieter, and heavier. Girls sat rigid in their chairs or leaned forward with their faces buried in their hands. No one spoke.

You nervously fiddled with your bracelet.

Then the clipboard appeared.

A staff member stepped into the center of the room, cleared her throat, and began reading from a list. “The following candidates are dismissed: 07, 12, 18, 21…”

Gasps. A soft curse. One girl stood up, stunned like she hadn’t fully heard her number the first time.

The staffer didn’t flinch.

“...24, 25, 28.”

More movement. Some of the eliminated stood and left quietly, heads held high. Others were visibly shaken; eyes glossy, hands clenched tight around the straps of their bags.

You kept your face neutral, your hands steady in your lap, but every number that wasn’t yours let you breathe a bit easier. They were cutting people now. Fast. No time for second chances.

The clipboard lowered. The staffer left the room without another word.

You let out a sigh of relief. The girls who remained exchanged glances, but no one said anything out loud.

Another clipboard appeared. Another staffer stepped forward.

“Candidate #32? It’s time for your interview.”

You stood, legs like jelly, words caught in your throat. You smoothed your skirt and smiled.

Look good. Feel good. Do good.

Even if your brain had short-circuited back there, you were still in the game. Just one last push.

The interview was over.

You stepped out of the room, heart pounding, unsure if your legs would keep holding you up.

Unlike the exam, where answers had a clear right or wrong, the interview had been a minefield. No seemingly right answers, just tight-lipped panelists and the cold scratch of their pens on paper.

You were used to being good with people. Making others smile, laugh, and feel welcome. That was your strength, but those skills felt useless in the interview.

You kept telling yourself it was fine. You prepped, looked presentable, and your passion was clear through your answers. But one question in particular kept bugging you.

‘What is soccer?’

The question was simple, too simple. It had to be a trick question.

You froze up. Not because you didn’t know the answer, but because you knew too many. You almost said something about teamwork and winning together. As you were about to answer, you paused. It didn’t feel right. It felt hollow.

“Soccer is a sport in which the goal is to score more points than your opponent.” The answer came out in a panic. The silence that followed felt deafening.

Thinking about your answer made you want to throw up.

Obviously, the goal was to score more points! That was the goal of every damn sport!!

You were annoyed at yourself. And now you couldn’t stop replaying what you could have said, what you should have said until your stomach twisted with doubt.

You couldn’t change the past though. All you could do was wait to hear back.

Turns out, you were not a very patient person.

Waiting for your acceptance, or rejection, letter had been absolutely excruciating. Every day stretched impossibly long. Every sound from outside, every car that passed by, had you rushing to the window like some mail-obsessed lunatic.

You checked the mailbox every morning before school, and at least two more times after school just in case the postal service had magically changed their delivery schedule. You even started checking your phone, hoping maybe, just maybe, they’d send an email instead. No such luck.

You tried to keep yourself busy by throwing yourself into cheer practice, but everything felt dull with that one looming question hanging in the air: Did I make it?

And still, the letter didn’t come.

You told yourself not to get your hopes up, that no news didn’t necessarily mean bad news. But the longer the wait dragged on, the more your confidence began to waver.

By the third day, you were pacing around like a caged tiger. You had memorized every crack in the sidewalk outside your house from walking back and forth so much. And just when you were starting to accept the possibility that maybe it wasn’t happening, maybe they had forgotten about you completely…

It arrived.

The envelope was thick, official-looking. Your fingers shook as you pulled it free.

You stood there for a second, staring at the emblem stamped on the front: Japan Football Association. You didn’t even shut the mailbox before running back into the house.

“Dad!” you called. “It’s here!”

He must’ve heard something in your voice because he practically stumbled into the hallway.

“What? The letter?”

You held it up with both hands like it might vanish if you blinked. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

He stared at it, then at you, then back at the letter. “Well? What are you waiting for? Rip it open!”

You nodded and carefully opened the envelope. The paper inside crinkled as you unfolded it.

Dear Ishikawa Miharu,

Congratulations. You have been selected as one of the twenty-five managers for the Blue Lock Project…

The words blurred slightly. You read them again, just to be sure. Then again.

Your breath hitched. “I got in.”

You looked up slowly, unsure if you'd said it out loud or just thought it. But your dad’s face was already breaking into a grin.

“You got in?” he echoed, taking a step forward.

You nodded, laughing now; half joy, half disbelief. “I got in!”

He swept you into a crushing hug that lifted you off the floor. “That’s my girl! I knew it. I told you they’d be lucky to have you!”

You hugged him back, face buried in his shoulder. “I was so nervous.”

“Nonsense,” he said, squeezing tighter. “You worked your butt off. You earned this. Every bit of it.”

You were going to be part of the Managerial Blue Lock project.

Blue Lock had given you exactly two days to prepare before heading to its top-secret facility. Those two days felt like a whirlwind as you rushed to pack and break the news to those closest to you.

At first, your school hesitated once they found out you were leaving for an internship. But when they learned who was funding it, their hesitation turned into enthusiasm, eager to accommodate your departure.

Telling your cheer squad was harder. They were stunned and had a barrage of questions; none of which you were allowed to answer.

"We're going to miss you, Haru!"

"Come back soon!"

"We’ll be waiting for you!"

These girls had been your teammates, your friends; some since junior high, others since high school began. You would miss them.

The morning of your departure came quickly. You were tossing and turning all night, your stomach churning with nerves. Eventually, you decided to start your day early rather than waste time trying to sleep.

It was 6 AM, two hours before you were expected at the designated meeting point. Restless, you found yourself in front of your mother’s shrine.

Every day, without fail, you spoke to her here. But once inside Blue Lock, you wouldn’t have that comfort. To make up for it, you had carefully packed pictures of your family and your bracelet. A small piece of home to bring with you.

“You’re up early.” Your dad’s voice broke the silence, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Good morning, dad. I couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. You hoped the dark circles under your eyes weren’t too noticeable.

“Nervous?” he asked as he busied himself brewing a fresh cup of coffee. The aroma slowly filled the kitchen.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “My stomach feels like it’s in knots.”

“You have nothing to worry about. Remember, you were chosen for a reason. Just give it your best. That’s all anyone can ask of you.” You nodded, his simple encouragement easing your nerves, if only a little.

He was right. Worrying wouldn’t change anything. You spent the next hour and a half talking with him about everything and nothing, determined to keep your mind busy.

Before you knew it, 7:30 AM arrived, and the moment had come. Your dad gave you a small, reassuring smile as he watched you gather your bags.

“Ready?” he asked.

You adjusted the strap on your shoulder and took a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Confusion settled in the moment you arrived at the designated meeting spot. You had been escorted to a lobby where 24 other girls waited. None of them looked familiar.

Was I the only one selected from my prefecture?

You glanced around, thinking whether to ask someone about the situation, but the atmosphere wasn’t exactly welcoming. Everyone was subtly sizing each other up just like during the exam.

Another 10 minutes passed before a door in the far back of the room opened.

A young woman stepped forward. Teieri Anri.

You had researched her extensively when the letter first arrived, needing to confirm that everything about this opportunity was legitimate. Now, standing before you, she was proof that all of this was real.

“My name is Teieri Anri, and I’d like to welcome you all to the Blue Lock Managerial Project.” Her demeanor carried an unmistakable authority.

“The twenty-five of you have been selected to participate as managers as part of our larger mission to revolutionize Japanese soccer. We intend to create a striker who will bring home the U-20 World Cup trophy.”

The room was silent, her words commanding everyone’s full attention.

“I won’t lie to you,” she continued, her tone hardening. “This will be an intense and grueling experience. You will come face to face with the disadvantages women encounter in the world of sports. Being constantly undermined, underappreciated, underestimated, and, at times, objectified.”

A wave of unease passed through the group, but Anri pressed on. “It’s frustrating. Yet, despite those obstacles, I am asking you to persevere, not just for yourselves, but for the sake of Japanese soccer. This is your chance to become more than what society has told you to be.”

Her conviction struck a chord deep within you. Too many times, you have experienced those same struggles; dismissed, judged, and overlooked, not for lack of skill or determination, but for your gender.

“Now,” she said, pausing for emphasis, “if you wish to seize this once in a lifetime opportunity, follow me.” With that, she turned on her heel and exited through the same door she had entered.

The silence lingered for a moment before the group collectively moved. No one dared hesitate.

Whatever initial wariness or doubts they had, none of them were willing to let this chance slip through their fingers.

Including you.

Chapter Text

Paperwork, including a consent form, needed to be completed before you could head out to Blue Lock’s facility. With a steady hand, you signed and dated the form.

Ishikawa Miharu. November 20th, 20XX.

Anri quickly collected it, tucking it away for safekeeping, and handed you a neatly bundled package.

“This is your managerial kit,” she said, her tone now friendlier. “Inside, you’ll find a tablet, a laptop, and a set of earbuds. The most important documents, like our rulebook, player profiles, and a facility map, are all stored digitally on your tablet for easy access.”

You nodded, giving a quiet, “Thank you,” as you held the kit in your hands. The kit was numbered #5.

Outside, two buses were waiting to transport everyone. Without much thought, you stepped onto a bus. Spotting an open seat, you wasted no time claiming it. Then, you tucked your bags into the overhead bin and settled into your seat. The ride was set to be 3 hrs long.

Plenty of time for a nap.

Or so you thought.

Your eyelids began to droop when an energetic voice cut through your sleepiness.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

Before you could respond, the girl plopped down beside you, as if she had already decided the answer.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted!” she groaned, leaning back with exaggerated dramatics. “Had to wake up at the crack of dawn. Packing and all that, y’know?”

She launched into a rapid-fire rant about her morning, rambling about forgetting to pack, scrambling to throw things into her bag, and barely making it in time. You realized getting a word in would be impossible.

With nothing else to do, you resigned yourself to listening. This was, as far as you could tell, your first time meeting her. At least she was entertaining. The girl had long black hair, golden eyes that gleamed with enthusiasm, and a star-shaped clip securing her bangs. Then, you noticed that her hair…sparkled?

As if sensing your curiosity, she grinned.

“I use hair glitter! Makes my hair all shiny and sparkly,” she leaned forward, waiting for a response.

“Pretty! I usually accessorize with ribbons,” you admitted.

At this, the girl tilted her head, inspecting your hair with interest. You chuckled.

“I only do it for special occasions,” you added.

“Like a good luck charm!” the girl chirped.

“Exactly. “

“Oh, I never introduced myself, did I?” she realized, giving your shoulder a friendly nudge. “I’m Matsukawa Ayaka!”

Her energy was infectious, reminding you of a friend from your cheer squad. You returned the gesture, matching her warmth. “I’m Ishikawa Miharu. Nice to meet you.”

“What a pretty name ~ Can I call you Ishi? You can call me Matsu in return!” she offered with a bright grin.

You giggled and nodded. “You’ve got a deal, Matsu.”

The conversation between you and Matsu flowed effortlessly, talking about anything and everything. Your reaction to the letter, the tense atmosphere at the exam center, what you packed, your schools, and so much more.

Then, Matsu lit up with sudden realization.

“Wait! You go to Matsukaze Kokou? Isn’t that where Kira Ryousuke goes?!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over.

You instinctively glanced around, wary of any unwanted attention. “Not so loud! I’d like to avoid getting swarmed by fangirls, thank you very much,” you softly chided.

She winced, covering her mouth. “Oops, sorry! But seriously, can you tell me more about him?” she whispered, leaning in conspiratorially.

You sighed, searching for something interesting to share.

Honestly, there wasn’t much. You and Kira weren’t close. At best, you exchanged brief greetings in the hallways. Any other interaction came through the cheer squad or the soccer team. When you tell this to Ayaka, her excitement visibly deflates. But true to her energetic nature, she shakes off the disappointment and quickly moves on to the next topic.

Matsu’s cheerful attitude makes the bus ride go by much faster. Soon, the bus rolls to a stop in front of an enormous facility, its sleek exterior marked by bold lettering. BLUE LOCK.

For the first time since the ride began, you and Matsu fell into silence as you stared up at the building.

As the buses pulled inside, you spotted Anri standing near the entrance, trays in hand. The second the vehicle parked, you jumped up and grabbed your bags, eager to stretch your legs. Ayaka followed suit, practically bouncing with energy.

Stepping off the bus, you noticed the other girls who got off before you. Their expressions ranged from irritation to frustration, their hushed whispers laced with discontent.

Then, Anri’s voice cuts through the noise.

“We must confiscate your phones and wallets. There are no exceptions. The 300 forwards already gave up theirs. So will you.” Hearing this, the girls reluctantly comply.

Damn, I was hoping to call dad.

You sighed, pushing aside the disappointment. No point in resisting. Once all the girls had turned in their phones and wallets, Anri’s voice rang out again, commanding the group’s attention.

“This facility is divided into five wings. Each wing is split into five teams, making twenty-five teams in total. Each team will be supported by a manager.”

She paused, allowing time for questions, but no one spoke.

“You have all been ranked according to mine and Ego’s judgment based on your exam scores, interview answers, and other observations.”

You swallowed hard.

“We have already assigned you to a wing. However, you will choose which team within your wing to manage. The selection order will be determined by your ranking.”

Your bracelet faintly jingled as you nervously fidgeted with it.

“Now, please head to the wing indicated by the number on your managerial kit.”

You exchanged a glance with Matsu, curious about which wing she was in.

“I’m in 5!” she whispered excitedly.

“Me too!” It was a little early to call her a friend, but it was nice to have at least one familiar face in your wing.

Together, you make your way through the maze of concrete walls that make up Blue Lock’s facility. After passing countless rooms, you arrived at a door marked Managers' Lobby. The nameplate gleamed under the sterile lighting as the door slid open.

Inside, three other managers from Wing #5 waited. The walls were lined with screens.

Determined to start things off on the right foot, you greeted them with a bright, “Hello!”

Unfortunately, your sentiment wasn’t entirely reciprocated. Two of the managers ignored you, their body language already showing an unspoken rivalry. The third, however, gave a shy “Hello” in return. It wasn’t much, but you appreciated the small gesture of acknowledgment.

Suddenly, the screens on the wall came to life. You had expected to see Anri, but instead, a thin, gangly man appeared, his presence immediately unsettling.

Is this Ego?

You had tried finding out more about the man, but nothing had popped up when you looked him up online. He was a complete mystery.

“Anri-chan must have explained how the selection works, right?” he drawled, his tone lazy and detached.

No hello? Rude, but whatever.

Everyone in the room nodded. His entire demeanor was as unnerving as his appearance. He had an unusually long neck with dark under-eye bags that emphasized the tired, but intense look on his face.

“Well then, let’s get started, shall we?” Ego continued, utterly unfazed.

As he spoke, a ranking of the five managers in your wing appeared on the screen. You scanned the list, heart pounding until your name came into view.

#23.

Wait, #23?

“That’s right. Your wing #5 is the lowest-ranked of the five wings. ” Ego explained.

One of the managers who had ignored you earlier scoffed, voice laced with indignation.

“Seriously!? You’ve got to be kidding me.” You felt the same way.

“Not even a little bit. Everyone else is miles ahead of you, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable.”

You glanced at the ranking again.

Oh.

Matsu was #25. Dead last.

You turned to her, ready to offer comfort, but froze at the sight of her expression. She was pissed. Her brows were furrowed, and her grip on her managerial kit was so tight her knuckles had turned white.

“Matsu?” you murmured. You startled her, and the anger vanished from her face almost instantly.

“Sorry, I was just surprised! Didn’t expect to be last…” She trailed off with an awkward laugh, her earlier frustration replaced with a strained attempt at indifference. Matsu’s reaction made perfect sense. Both of you had undoubtedly worked extremely hard to get accepted, only to find yourself at the bottom of the pack. It stung.

Ignoring the frustration in the room, Ego pressed on.

“The teams available are V, W, X, Y, and Z,” he said flatly. “Examine it carefully while I grab a snack.”

With a wave of his hand, the screens shifted, displaying information about each team and its players.

Is he always this apathetic?

You frowned as the details filled the screen. Each team had 12 members, all listed as forwards.

A soccer team only has 11 players. A goalkeeper and 10 outfielders. Why 12?

The number of players bothered you, but there was no time to think. Instead, you focused on the teams, scanning through each player’s information.

Team V stood out immediately. On paper, they seemed formidable, with three players boasting exceptional capabilities. Next was Team W, which had a pair of brothers whose most striking feature was, oddly enough, their eyebrows. You figured siblings on the same team likely meant strong chemistry. Then again, family dynamics could be unpredictable.

Most players on Team X didn’t leave much of an impression, except for a certain player with long black hair. It was spiked incredibly high, and you sensed he was even more incredible as a player. Team Y didn’t leave much of an impression either, aside from a player with bleach-blonde hair. Even then, his hair paled in comparison to the spiky-haired guy on Team X.

Finally, Team Z. You were analyzing the player's information when a name jumped out at you.

Kira Ryosuke.

You did a double-take as if the name might change. You suspected he might be here as his teammate mentioned the letter, but you were still surprised.

“Ishi, what’s wrong?”

Matsu walked over and followed your gaze. Her eyes widened in recognition when she saw what you were staring at. Before she could say anything, you pressed a finger to your lips, silently urging her to keep quiet. This was a secret between the two of you.

She nodded, catching your meaning.

“Why don’t you take Team Z? With Kira on the team, you’ll rise in the ranks for sure. I can always pick another strong team,” you whispered, lowering your voice instinctively.

Matsu shook her head, dismissing the idea outright.

“I pick last. There’s no way we can be sure someone else won’t take Team Z first,” she pointed out. “Besides, I have my eye on another team.” Then, she smiled.

“I’d rather you have them than let some other managers snatch them up.”

You considered it. “Hmm, I was thinking of going for Team X.” That spiky-haired guy seemed very promising to you.

Matsu’s brows pinched together. “Really?”

There was a pause before she spoke again, her tone more pointed.

“But Kira is the soccer player right now. You’d practically guarantee yourself a spot if you pick his team.”

His team?

The way she framed it didn’t sound right. There were other players on the team too. And you couldn’t help but notice her tone. Her words were soft but had an edge to them. A quiet insistence you couldn’t ignore.

“He’s not the captain of the team,” you said firmly. “Right now, he’s just another player.”

Matsu shook her head, disbelief crossing her face, but she said nothing more. Then, Ego reappeared on the screen. The ranking list came back into view.

“Ms. Miyano, please step forward.”

The timid girl from earlier stiffened but stepped forward. A quiet sound reached your ears.

Did Matsu click her tongue? No… I must’ve misheard.

“As the best of the worst, you will choose your team first.”

The focus was now on Miyano, who was clearly overwhelmed.

“Who will you choose?”

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Miyano hesitated before answering. “I-I’d like to manage Team V, please…” she mumbled, barely audible.

“Team V has been assigned to Miyano Mayu. Leave the room and head to the designated manager room for your team,” Ego instructed, indifferent as always.

Miyano quickly gathered her things and bolted out of the room. Her hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. As the next manager stepped up to make her choice, you remained conflicted over which team to pick.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, you wouldn’t have to make the tough decision.

“Team X has been assigned to Tanaka Izumi. Leave the room and head to the designated manager room for your team,” Ego announced.

Dammit!

You could feel Matsu staring at you, almost like she was silently asking, ‘What will you do now?’

Only three teams remained: W, Y, and Z. And you couldn’t shake Matsu’s words from your head. Maybe she was right.

Maybe choosing Team Z solely for Kira would be enough to secure your spot in the rankings.

“Hurry up, Ms. Ishikawa. We haven’t got all day.” Ego impatiently snapped.

Feeling the pressure, you shot him an apologetic look and spoke.

“I’ve decided to manage Team Z.”

The walk to your designated room was short. Inside, everything was functional and minimal: a bed, desk, bookshelf, wardrobe, and a single chair. You set your bags by the bed, grateful to finally have them off your shoulders. A screen took up most of one wall, humming softly in standby mode.

Your tablet abruptly lit up with a new message:

Managers, please change into the provided uniform and await further instructions.

Opening the wardrobe, you found three labeled garment bags: uniform, pajamas, and business professional attire. Below them were a neatly arranged selection of footwear, including tennis shoes, slippers, high heels, and loafers.

You grabbed the uniform bag along with the tennis shoes and unzipped the garment bag to see what you were working with. It was a simple tracksuit with a patch on the sleeve. The patch beeped as it changed to reflect your ranking and team.

The future is here!

The tracksuit’s design was similar to Blue Lock’s signature colors. You found that it fit perfectly. As you finished tying your tennis shoes, another message popped up on your tablet.

Managers, please use your screens to remotely view the tag match for your assigned team.

Tag?

Confused, you grabbed the remote and turned on the screen. Twelve players stood in a small room, all dressed in identical uniforms. Over the speakers, a familiar voice rang out. It was Ego. You’d already missed the beginning of his speech.

“-ow, we’ll hold a little entrance test to measure your aptitude. Now, time for some tag.”

A ball dropped from the ceiling with a thud, startling you and the players.

“The time limit is one hundred and thirty-six seconds. If you get hit with the ball, you’re ‘it’.”

A timer blinked onto the screen, accompanied by a cartoon figure of one of the players.

“Whoever’s hit when time runs out has to piss off back home,” Ego said flatly, then disappeared from the screen.

He can’t be serious!

All hell broke loose. You scrambled to grab your tablet, ready to take notes.

The unlucky starter, Igarashi(?), was frantically running as he tried to hit anyone he could. His sights were set on someone named Isagi, who looked oddly familiar. With only a minute and fifteen seconds left, Igarashi(!) abruptly switched targets.

His new target lay on the floor, seemingly asleep.

What was supposed to be an easy shot ended up being a mistake. The would-be target sprang to life, dodging and landing a brutal kick to Igarashi’s face.

You quickly searched your tablet for his name. Bachira Meguru. You made a note of his agility and reflexes.

You glanced back up in time to see Kunigami Rensuke, his name now flashing on your screen, take a ball to the face. His scowl said everything. Without hesitation, he fired the ball right back at Igarashi.

You gasped as Igarashi yanked Isagi, holding him in place just long enough for the ball to hit him.

Isagi was now "it."

Unbelievable. He plays way too dirty!

Yet, you could understand his desperation. All of them were risking their entire soccer lives in this game of tag.

The game only got more intense as the timer got closer to 0. In a display of brute strength, Kunigami hurled Bachira through the air like a ragdoll, sending him crashing down on top of Igarashi.

This is the most physical game of tag I’ve ever seen.

You leaned in, squinting at the screen.

Igarashi was sprawled on the floor, injured from Bachira landing on him. And right in front of him stood Isagi. All he had to do was kick to secure his safety. To save himself.

But instead of hitting, Isagi turned and ran.

What?! Where is he going?! There’s only fifteen seconds left!

You had no clue where he was going, but out of nowhere, Bachira intercepted the ball.

Ten seconds left!

And Bachira was charging at Kira. The strongest in the room.

Bachira’s first shot missed. And so did his second. You could see relief flash across Kira’s face.

But then the ball landed in front of Isagi.

And he kicked, slamming the ball into Kira’s face.

Kira was “it.”

Kira was out.

The next few minutes were a blur. Kira, understandably furious about being eliminated, freaked out over losing his chance to represent Japan.

Ego showed no mercy to him. His words picked apart every single one of Kira’s rebuttals and criticized his lack of egotism. You watched as Kira stormed out of the room, his anger palpable in every step.

A notification from your tablet tore your eyes away from the screen.

Managers, please head to your team’s training room.

Still reeling from Kira’s shocking elimination, you made your way to Team Z’s training room, tablet in hand. You couldn’t believe the star player of your school was one of the first to be cut.

Is he seriously never allowed to represent Japan? And what about the team?! I was counting on him to help me push Team Z further. To give me something to work with.

A small sigh escaped your lips, tension settling in your shoulders. You were going to have to rethink your entire strategy.

Arriving before anyone else, you took the opportunity to familiarize yourself with the training room. It was stocked with top-notch exercise machines, weights, yoga mats, and anything an athlete could want. Most of the equipment was familiar to you, thanks to your cheerleading background, but your old routine mainly concentrated on cardio, core strength, balance, and flexibility.

Oh, they have balance trainers!

All of a sudden, one of the screens flickered to life with Ego’s face coming into view. You immediately straightened, not wanting to give the impression that you were slacking off.

Then, the entry door slid open, revealing Team Z. The 11 survivors of the tag game walked in, stopping in their tracks the moment they noticed you.

“Huh? What’s a girl doing here?!” the one you now recognized as Igarashi blurted out.

You swallowed, forcing down any nerves, and gave a small wave.

The guys simply stared.

“Team Z, meet Ishikawa Miharu,” Ego announced. “She will be your manager until the end of the first selection.”

That got their attention. The silence was shattered as murmurs, questions, and protests filled the room.

“Bah! Seriously? A manager? We don’t need that!” a blonde with sharp teeth barked, his attitude dismissive.

“What? How can you say that? Besides, she’s super cute too!” a brunette with flushed cheeks chimed in, sounding far more excited than he should have been.

“Does she even have any managerial experience? My future’s on the line here!” Igarashi exclaimed, seeming genuinely distressed.

He sure is a talkative one.

“Be quiet and listen, you lumps of talent.” There was instant silence.

“Allow me to explain. Each team in the wings has a manager assigned to support them. Like you, they are also in competition with each other. And they chose, of their own free will, which team to manage.”

The screen switched, displaying a list.

Team V: Miyano Mayu

Team W: Matsukawa Ayaka

Team X: Tanaka Izumi

Team Y: Onoda Yui

Team Z: Ishikawa Miharu

So, Matsu went with Team W. I’ll make sure to ask about the eyebrow brothers later.

“Unfortunately for Ms. Ishikawa,” Ego continued, his tone void of sympathy, “she chose the lowest-ranked team in this wing.”

Your stomach dropped.

No fucking way.

Chapter Text

You couldn’t believe it.

The worst team in the wing. Juuuust great!

Around you, reactions varied. Some shared your disbelief, others seethed with frustration, but Ego paid them no mind.

“Ms. Ishikawa,” Ego addressed you. “Your job is simple. Elevate them. Make something out of nothing or fail. Either way, we will see your worth soon enough.”

Geez, no pressure.

His words were harsh, but they were the truth. Rotten luck had landed you here, but there was nothing you could do about it now. You exhaled through your nose, steadying yourself.

Fine. If this was the hand you had been dealt, then you would play it.

No way am I going down without a fight.

Ego remained indifferent. “That’s all. Now, do your best, you lumps of talent.”

With that, Ego disappeared and the screen shifted to display a thirty minute timer. A short break before whatever came next.

You wasted no time, whipping out your tablet and pulling up the team roster. Clearing your throat, you raised your voice loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

“As Ego-san said, my name is Ishikawa Miharu. I look forward to working with you!”

“Aww, don’t be so formal, Ishika-chan ~ We’re teammates now!” Bachira cheekily grinned.

“Bachira, the problem is you’re too casual.” The one you recognized as Isagi exasperatedly said.

You let out a small chuckle and relaxed a little. “No, he’s right. From here on out, we’ll be working together. Ah, but I’d like to use this break to get to know everyone. I’ve only gotten some of your names from the roster.”

Your gaze swept over the group, landing on one of them. A tall guy with medium-length gray hair and short stubble.

Come on, make the first move!

He seemed startled by the sudden eye contact, but took the bait.

“My name’s Iemon Okuhito. Nice to meet you.” He awkwardly held out his hand and you shook it with enthusiasm.

And just like that the rest of the players followed. They crowded around you and introduced themselves. You could already tell that you’d have your hands full, but that was fine. You’d manage.

Somehow.

You made a mental note to memorize all their names tonight, but for now you pulled up the rulebook on your tablet.

“We still have time so I'd like to go through the rule book.” you explained as you adjusted the display settings to mirror to the screen.

Raichi scoffed. “We already know the rules of soccer. Do you?” You rolled your eyes and motioned for the others to gather around.

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have made it this far,” you shot back without missing a beat.

“Ooooh~ she got you there!” Naruhaya snickered as he poked Raichi. The blonde boy merely grunted.

…Oops. I should be playing nice.

“Anyway, these rules are specifically about the managers and players.” The screen flickered, finally displaying the rulebook.

Blue Lock Manager & Player Regulations

Confidentiality and Conduct

[] Managers must not discuss their team's skills, rankings, or strategies with other managers or players from opposing teams.

[] Managers are prohibited from giving preferential or discriminatory treatment to any player.

Restricted Access and Boundaries

[] Managers may not remain in the players’ communal sleeping quarters from 10:00 p.m to 6:00 a.m under any circumstance.

[] Players are strictly forbidden from entering any manager’s private quarters, except in rare emergency cases.

[] Players and managers are prohibited from entering each other’s bathroom facilities, except in emergency situations.

Violence and Disciplinary Actions

[] All forms of violence from managers will result in immediate disqualification from the project.

[] Physical player-on-player violence will be subject to varying punishments, depending on the severity of the harm inflicted.

[] Harmful verbal abuse, harassment, or intimidation toward managers or players will be reviewed, with consequences ranging from warnings to expulsion.

[] Tampering with equipment or purposeful disruption of another team’s training will not be tolerated.

Performance and Training Expectations

[] Managers are responsible for evaluating their team’s development through objective analysis and tracking progress.

[] Managers have the authority to assign individual or team-based drills for improvement.

[] Players may appeal training methods if deemed unreasonable, but appeals must go through official review channels.

[] Any attempts to undermine the training process, such as refusing to participate without valid reason, may result in penalty or disciplinary measures.

Professionalism and Compliance

[] Managers and players must comply with all official Blue Lock directives.

[] Managers must report serious infractions or conflicts to Blue Lock officials immediately.

[] Players who consistently fail to follow manager directives will face consequences that may impact their ranking.

[] Any unauthorized leaks of information related to Blue Lock operations will result in immediate expulsion.

You read over the rules carefully, listing them one by one. As expected, there was some immediate pushback, namely from Raichi, but you shut him down with ease.

“If you want to get eliminated because you broke these ‘dumb rules’ by accident, be my guest,” you said indifferently. “I’m not the one losing my chance to represent Japan.”

Begrudgingly, he backed down.

Most of the rules were common sense, but it was still worth reviewing them. There were other sections detailing your responsibilities and how the rankings worked, but you would read that later.

“You know what I noticed?” Imamura piped up, “None of these rules outright forbid a relationship with the managers.”

A mischievous smirk spread across his face. The reaction was immediate. Groans, laughs, and a few exasperated sighs filled the room.

“That’s Imamura for you,” Naruhaya said, shaking his head. “Always thinking about the ladies!”

You looked back at the rulebook, skimming over the details once more.

He was right. Technically, there was nothing stopping the managers from dating or even messing around with players, as long as it didn’t interfere with responsibilities or violate any rules.

“True,” you conceded. “But I doubt anyone will.”

You checked the timer on the screen. Five minutes left.

“What? Why?!” Imamura whined.

“Well, it’s a little risky, y’know? Mixing your personal and managerial life together sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. And don’t even get me started on the drama it would cause.” you said, letting out a sigh.

“Anyway, break’s almost over then we have training until dinnertime. I’ll go fill up some water bottles, then we can get started.”

As you walked away, you could still hear Imamura grumbling behind you.

“I can’t even text girls in here, and now this?!”

Yeah, you were definitely gonna have your hands full.

Coming into the project, you knew the players would be athletic, but after just an hour of training, you realized you had seriously underestimated their abilities.

Raichi’s endurance was impressive, lasting an hour and thirteen minutes on the treadmill without showing significant signs of fatigue. Meanwhile, Kuon’s vertical jump measured 26.8 inches, easily the best you’d ever seen.

The only issue you noticed was the lack of form during warm ups. Your coach had always emphasized the importance of properly stretching to reduce injuries and ease muscle soreness later which you intended to reinforce here.

Between assisting with training, you managed to read over the remaining rules regarding your responsibilities and evaluations.

As a manager, your duties included analyzing player data, tracking individual and team progress, and writing daily reports on performance and development. Beyond statistics, you were responsible for managing team dynamics, mediating conflicts, and fostering an environment of healthy competition.

Your evaluations were directly tied to these responsibilities, with your skills being assessed in analytical thinking, leadership, communication, and problem-solving. Additionally, written exams on management, public relations, marketing, football theory, and other subjects would be held. At the end of each match, your assigned team would provide feedback, rating your effectiveness as a manager.

They definitely aren’t going easy on us.

As you finished up taking notes on the team, the bell rang.

“Time to eat!” Igarashi cheered. A few others cheered too, eager to eat, shower, and sleep.

You clapped your hands to get their attention. “Alright, go ahead and head out! I’ll stay behind and clean up.” Rolling up your sleeves, you prepared to start tidying up when Kunigami suddenly stepped in front of you. You looked up at him, confused.

“We’ll help,” he said simply.

Igarashi opened his mouth, likely about to complain, but Kunigami sent him a warning look that shut him down instantly.

“Oh, you really don’t have to. It won’t take long, and you guys worked hard these past couple of hours.” You appreciated the gesture, but you’d rather they get some rest.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kuon said, already grabbing some dirty towels off the floor. “Remember what Bachira said? You’re one of us now.”

Aww, I got such a nice team! Well, for the most part.

You beamed. “Well, if you insist! Let’s grab the towels, empty water bottles, and wipe down the machines. I’ll download today’s data, and then we can go eat!”

You hurriedly transferred data from each of the machines onto a flash drive, graciously provided with the tablet. You’d compile everything later onto a spreadsheet for a daily report, one of the many ways you had to demonstrate your skills.

With everyone’s help the room was cleaned up in no time. Just in time too, your stomach was starting to grumble. Team Z dispersed upon entering the cafeteria, each player going to different tables.

Now that you had time to think, the familiarity of Isagi nagged at you.

Where have I seen him before?

Grabbing your tray, you received your meal consisting of miso soup, rice, and grilled mackerel.

Oooh, grilled mackerel. Pretty good for being #23 overall, though. Maybe it’s based on the wing you’re in.

Spotting Isagi sitting with Igarashi, you made your way over. The former seemed oddly protective of his food, watching the others warily.

“Nobody’s gonna steal ours…” Isagi muttered.

“You can’t be too sure. Agh, I’m not safe here!” Igarashi shrieked, clutching his tray before bolting out of the cafeteria.

Perfect.

You set your tray down across from Isagi, catching him off guard as he watched Igarashi disappear.

“O-oh, hello Ishikawa,” he greeted, a little surprised.

“Hi. Mind if I sit here?” you asked.

“Go ahead.” he nodded politely.

You smiled and settled into the chair, about to ask if you'd met before when you noticed his gaze lingering on your tray. Specifically, your mackerel.

“You want some?” You gestured toward the fish.

Isagi immediately looked away, sheepish. “N-no, it’s yours.” He was quiet, eyes fixed on his untouched natto.

You shrugged, taking a bite of your food as the two of you ate in silence, thinking of how to bring up your question. You settled for a direct approach.

“So,” you started, watching his reaction, “have we met before?”

Isagi looked up, natto still untouched.

“Er, I don’t think so?” he said uncertainly.

“Are you sure? I feel like we have.” You took another bite of the mackerel. It was perfectly grilled and salted just right.

Isagi leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he thought.

“I don’t really go outside of Saitama. I live there.” he offered.

You lit up. “Me too! What school do you go to?”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Ichinan High School.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “That’s it! That’s where I recognize you from! We played you guys in the prefectural finals for the national high school soccer championship.”

“You were player #11, right?” You grinned, happy to figure out where you recognized him from.

Isagi stiffened slightly. “Y-yeah. You were there?” He hesitated for a second, then frowned. “Wait, you go to Matsukaze?”

“Yup!” You took another bite of your food, barely missing the way Isagi picked at his own. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his voice low.

“Is that why you chose Team Z?”

The mention of Kira hung unspoken in the air.

Is Isagi still thinking about Kira’s elimination?

Your silence must have unnerved him because Isagi quickly backtracked.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. You don’t have to answer.”

You shook your head, wanting to clear the air. “No, it’s fine. To be honest, it was part of it.” The admission made you cringe a little, but there was no point in denying it now. “I thought having Kira on the team would keep me safe in the rankings.”

Isagi nodded, silently listening.

“And, well…” you continued, exhaling slowly, “one of the other managers convinced me.”

Part of you wanted to give Matsu the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it really had been bad luck. Maybe she genuinely believed Team Z would be a great team.

But another part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that Matsu had known exactly what she was doing. That she wanted you to end up managing the weakest team.

You weren’t sure what to believe yet.

“Maybe it’s too late to say this, but I didn’t mean to eliminate Kira,” Isagi murmured, discomfort flickering across his expression. “It just happened.”

You thought back to the game of tag. How quickly everything had happened. The intense look on Isagi’s face when he kicked the ball.

You shifted slightly. “Don’t feel too bad. At the end of day, there’s only one world's best striker.”

Isagi stared at you, his mouth slightly agape, surprised by your words. But after a moment, he nodded.

You smiled and pushed your chair back, standing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow for training. Goodnight.”

With that, you left the cafeteria, eager to rest, before realizing something.

You groaned.

I still need to write the daily report!

The report was taking longer than expected. You wanted to thoroughly analyze each detail regarding the team’s performance in training, but it was proving to be a time consuming process.

[...Raichi demonstrated outstanding endurance…his stamina will be a critical asset in high intensity mathes as he can maintain performance over extended periods of time without decline…

…Kuon displayed exceptional power with his vertical jump…which will be valuable for aerial plays, allowing him to challenge for headers and maintain strong positioning in crucial moments.]

You stretched, hearing the satisfying crack in your back as you finally finished the report. But the day wasn’t over yet. Prioritizing your report meant you neglected other stuff, like unpacking and getting ready for bed.

At least I’ll have the bathroom all to myself.

And you were right. Not a single soul was there, meaning you could take your time.

The warm water felt good as you sank deeper into the bath, letting your body relax. Your mind wandered to the schedule ahead. Ego still hadn’t announced how the matches would work nor the number of matches each team would have. All he gave was an intense training schedule.

You tilted your head back, exhaling slowly. Managers would have exams scheduled every week, the first one focusing on football theory. You weren’t particularly worried about it, but you planned to start reviewing tomorrow.

Maybe I can get one of the guys to help me study over lunch or something.

As you left the bathroom and made your way back to your room, you let out a loud sigh. The thought of waking up early made you sad. You were not a morning person.

A timid voice broke through your thoughts.

“E-excuse me, do you know where the bathroom is? I-I’m a little lost…”

You turned to see Miyano, Team V’s manager, nervously standing there. Given that it was nearly midnight, you were surprised to see someone else still walking around.

How long has she been lost for? Team V’s entry door isn’t that close to us.

“Yeah! It’s actually that way,” you said, pointing down the hallway. “I can show you.”

“A-alright… i-if it’s not an inconvenience, I’d a-appreciate it.” She offered a small smile.

You nodded, leading the way.

As you walked, you snuck a glance at Miyano. She was fidgeting with the hem of her pajamas, her gaze fixed on the floor, shoulders slightly hunched. Her anxious demeanor was obvious. Your eyes drifted to the butterfly clips holding her hair neatly in place.

“They’re cute.” You quietly mused. Miyano blinked, looking momentarily confused but didn’t say anything.

Unable to stand the silence, you attempted to start a conversation.

“So… how’s the first day going?” You kept it general. Nothing too specific to avoid breaking any rules.

“I-It's been a little overwhelming.” Her voice was soft, but purposeful as though she was carefully thinking of what to say. “M-my team’s been kind though…”

You nodded. “Mine too! Hard to believe it’s only the first day. Feels like so much has already happened.”

Miyano hummed in agreement, looking slightly more relaxed.

The rest of the walk was comfortable, filled with light conversation as you and Miyano avoided any detailed information about your teams. Eventually, you reached the bathroom, where she offered a small smile of gratitude before saying goodbye.

Finally reaching your room, you glared at the pile of bags by your bed.

Great, I still have to unpack.

Thankfully, you had only brought the essentials. Or what you considered the essentials. Most importantly, you brought your family along.

You carefully set your family pictures on the desk.

Watch over me, mom and dad. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.

Over the next couple of days, you and Team Z settled into a rigorous routine. Every day, without fail, you dragged yourself out of bed at 6AM, still bleary eyed, to prepare for the day’s tasks.

At 7AM, you headed to Team Z’s sleeping quarters to make sure everyone was awake and heading to breakfast. Bachira was the worst offender, never wanting to leave the comfort of his makeshift bed. Luckily, Isagi or Kuon always helped you get him up.

Breakfast lasted until 8AM, giving you much needed time to study for your upcoming exam while eating. You chose to sit separately from the others, preferring the quiet so you could stay focused.

Once breakfast ended, the team headed straight to the training room. Somehow, no matter how early anyone arrived, Kunigami was already there.

“He’s the king of the training room..!” Isagi had whispered to you once and the nickname had quickly caught on.

After machine training, the team moved on to individual practice and running drills. Everyone took their training seriously. Everyone, except Igaguri, whose nickname had immediately stuck.

“Igaguri, get back here! You better not be trying to skip again!”

Chasing him down had practically become part of your daily routine, and it never failed to wear you out.

“I just need a break!” he shouted before escaping through the doors.

“You said that last time!” You called after him, but it was useless. He was gone.

At 10AM, it was time for team training. Thankfully, even Igaguri showed up for it, joining the group in brainstorming and reviewing soccer tactics. The time was also used for field practice. Iemon was always kind enough to help you set out the cones.

By 12PM, the team was practically starving. You made a point to sit with the others during lunch, wanting to get to know them better.

“Hey, Bachira, wake up. You don’t want to fall asleep in your food, do you?” you shook his shoulder lightly.

“So sleepy…” he mumbled, barely managing to lift his head.

Across the table, Raichi was fighting a losing battle.

“Stop eating with your damn fingers! You have chopsticks, so use them!!” Raichi angrily yelled at Gagamaru. He didn’t even flinch at Racihi’s angry outburst. The others had already tried, multiple times, to teach him how to use chopsticks properly, but it was a lost cause.

You can take the guy out of the mountains, but you can’t take the mountain out the guy.

A one hour break was built into the schedule, giving you time to start drafting your daily report on the morning’s activities. Sometimes, the others would try to sneak a peek, but you always shooed them away.

“Oh, please ~ I just wanna know what you’ve written about me!” Imamura griped.

“No way! Do you wanna get me eliminated?” You huffed, holding your tablet close to your chest.

2PM meant it was back to training. The team underwent more tactical training and held a practice game. You took extensive notes as it made up a bulk of your report.

The focus shifted back to individual training at 4PM. You made sure to check up on each of the guys, doing your best to offer areas of improvement based on your observations. Not everyone stayed for the entire 2 hour training session though.

“Gotta go, bye!” Naruhaya called out, already halfway out the door before you could react. He never stayed longer than necessary.

I should check in with him…

On the opposite end of the spectrum was Iemon, who always stayed to the end. He was such a helpful guy.

“Thank you for always staying to help, Iemon.” you said warmly. He simply shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed by the gratitude.

Nearby, Isagi and Bachira were still busy practicing.

“Isagi, Bachira!” you called out. “Training is wrapping up, okay?”

“Yeeeeeeees, Ishika-chan!” Bachira responded cheerfully, his focus still locked onto Isagi’s positioning.

“We’ll be done soon!” Isagi shouted, intent on breaking past Bachira’s defense.

Dinner time was at 6PM. Everyone ate scattered around, preferring some space to unwind after a long day. You used the time to finish up the next section of your daily report.

Surprisingly, you had yet to run into Matsu. You’d prefer to keep it that way for now.

Despite it being nighttime, the day was far from over. From 8PM to 10PM, the team gathered in the monitoring room for an analysis meeting. Though there were no matches to review yet, you insisted on holding the meeting anyway. The time could be used to brainstorm multiple strategies for dealing with different teams.

Preparation is key, even this early on.

Past 10PM, you weren’t allowed in the player’s sleeping quarters, for good reason, but you still heard plenty about what went on through the others.

“Haha, you should’ve seen Igaguri sleeping last night!” Naruhaya laughed, clearly amused.

Apparently, Igaguri had a habit of ending up in the strangest positions while asleep.

“Yeah, it’s funny until his leg is in your face…” Isagi muttered. Thinking about it made you giggle.

Poor guy.

Tonight, you planned to stay up a little later than usual. Your daily report was finished and you were done showering. Instead of relaxing, you chose to spend a little time creating feedback for each of Team Z’s players.

You needed every player in tip top shape for the first match, whenever it was.

You went to stretch when you noticed something missing on your wrist.

My bracelet!

Panic raced through your body.

I must’ve left it in the bathroom!

Without hesitation, you sprinted down the hall, reaching the bathroom in record time. Your heart pounded as you searched the room.

Oh, thank god!

Thankfully your bracelet was right where you had taken it off to wash your face. You clutched the bracelet close to your chest, exhaling in relief.

I’ll be more careful from now on.

As you walked back to your room, something made you freeze.

A shadowy figure bolted up the stairs, heading towards the second floor where the indoor training field was.

Who the hell was that?

Logic told you it had to be a player or a manager, but that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling from creeping in.

Should I…? Ugh, dammit. Well, what’s the worst that can happen?

Somewhat reluctantly, you headed up to the training field, your curiosity getting the better of you. You cautiously peeked into the room, fully prepared to run at the first sign of danger. But all you saw were Bachira and Isagi talking.

Late night practice, huh?

Relief washed over you as you took in the scene. Over the past few days, the two had built a natural camaraderie, their understanding of each other growing stronger with each session.

Satisfied that nothing suspicious was happening, you turned and headed back to your room to sleep.

You had barely started your day when a pleasant chime echoed over the PA system, followed by Ego’s voice.

“Err…we’ve finished compiling the data from the past three days’ stamina tests. Please return to your rooms. We will display the new rankings.”

New rankings?!

“Managers, please stay in your rooms for now.”

You deflated, instinctively wanting to meet up with Team Z, but that would have to wait.

Soon enough, Ego appeared on the screen. You assumed Team Z could also see him from their sleeping quarters.

“Nice work, everyone. You lumps of talent. Are you enjoying life in Blue Lock?”

You huffed. Obviously not!

Between grueling training sessions and an exam looming over you, there was barely a moment to breathe. You were sure the others felt the same.

Ego went on to explain the logistics of the rankings, including how the top ranked players and managers were having a much better experience. You envied them.

Then, with an eerie smile, Ego expanded a table on the screen, listing each of the teams.

“Now then, let’s begin Blue Lock’s First Selection.”

What you gathered from his explanation was this: a round robin tournament would be held among all five teams. Points were awarded based on match outcomes. Three for a win, one for a draw, and zero for a loss.

The top two teams would advance to the next selection. However, the players with the most goals in each of the losing teams would also advance. A fair play point system would be tracked as a tiebreaker. Whoever had the least amount of penalty points would be the winner.

Considering the past few days, you could already tell that deciding positions was going to be a pain in the ass.

I can already feel a headache coming on…

As you racked your brain for potential team formations, Ego continued, already moving on to his next monologue.

“Rebuild soccer from zero in your heads. Throw away the common sense you’ve learned up until now. And pound this new concept into your heads.”

Rebuild from zero?

“What Japan needs most of all to win the World Cup isn’t the teamwork of eleven people. It’s for just one person to be a hero.”

A shiver of excitement ran down your spine.

Can Blue Lock really create a striker good enough to win us the World Cup?

You weren’t so sure before, but Ego’s words alone were enough to make you believe, if only a little.

“This is a battle to rebuild soccer from zero. The first match is in two hours. Team X versus Team Z.”

You shot up so fast your chair toppled over.

Two hours?!

That was barely enough time for the team to eat, review tactics, warm up, and for you to mentally prepare!

Your tablet dinged with a new message:

Managers, please prepare for your first match. You will receive more information regarding your duties post-match.

Heart racing, you grabbed your tablet and hair ribbon before rushing out of the room.

Your leg anxiously bounced as you sat on the bench in Team Z’s locker room. Your strategy was rough, extremely rough, built on the scraps of information you had on Team X.

“Remember, Isagi is our center forward, so we’ll be basing our moves off of him. No whining! We decided this fair and square through rock-paper-scissors,” you reminded the team.

“And make sure to watch out for the guy with insanely spiky hair! He had killer stats from what I remember.”

“Got it ~” Bachira chimed in, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Gimme a break! Can we really win with Isagi as our foundation?” Igaguri complained, blatantly ignoring your words.

You frowned, ready to reprimand him, but Kunigami beat you to it.

“No griping Igaguri. We decided to play rock-paper-scissors because everyone wanted to be a forward.”

You shot him a grateful smile. I knew I could count on you, Kunigami!

He nodded but his ears turned slightly red. Compliments were never his strong suit.

The others voiced their thoughts on their positions, but the only one you felt bad for was Iemon. Poor guy was the goalkeeper.

With a little time left before kickoff, conversation buzzed around the room. You took a moment to put your hair up, securing it with one of the ribbons you’d brought from home.

While fussing with your hair, you caught Chigiri staring. The two of you hadn’t talked much. He tended to keep to himself, even around the others.

“Your ribbon’s cute,” he said, his expression neutral.

You blinked, processing the unexpected compliment, then lit up with a beaming smile.

“Thank you! It’s one of my favorites ~” you giggled.

“What inspired the sudden hair change?” he asked, watching you adjust the ribbon.

“Oh, it’s a tradition of mine and the cheer squad. Everyone goes all ou—”

Imamura’s sudden outburst cut you off.

“Cheer squad?! You were a cheerleader before this!?”

That was when you noticed all the others staring at you and Chigiri. Is it really that shocking?

“Hmm? Yeah, I was. Technically, still am,” you admitted, pausing as you thought back on the past few days.

“Have I really not told you guys?”

“Nope ~ Does that mean you had pom-poms?” Bachira asked, enthusiastically miming a cheer routine with imaginary pom-poms.

“And your uniform! What about your uniform?!” Imamura chimed in, far too invested.

“Oh yeah, we had pom-poms.” You pointedly ignored Imamura.

“Is it like a good luck charm, then?” Chigiri asked, clearly uninterested in Imamura’s lingering excitement.

“Yup! Everyone would style their hair differently than usual. One time a friend of mine cut her hair all the way to her shoulders before our baseball team's semifinal game.”

You laughed, remembering the team’s shock at her haircut.

“Hmph, whatever. It’s not like cheerleading a re-”

Raichi’s words died in his throat the moment you shot him an icy glare, daring him to finish that sentence.

He grumbled but said nothing more.

“Cheerleading…” Gagamaru murmured, lost in thought.

You smirked. “I’ll happily talk more about it… if we win this game.” Imamura let out an enthusiastic yell to rally everyone’s spirits.

“We already planned on it, Ishika-chan!” Bachira’s signature cheekiness was on full display.

“Good! That’s what I like to hear!” You placed your hands on your hips, nodding in approval.

“It’s almost time,” Kuon said, pointing toward the hallway leading to the field.

Everyone headed out, except for Isagi.

“Everything okay?” you asked, walking over to him, a little worried. Being the team’s striker for the first match had to be stressful.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Yeah, I just didn’t expect to be playing a match this soon. And I still have no clue what Ego meant by rebuilding soccer from zero.”

You nodded in understanding. “I getcha, but this is a chance to prove yourself. This is your first step to becoming the world’s best striker, right?”

He paused then grinned. “You’re right. This is my chance, and I’ll fight like my life depends on it!”

His eyes burned with determination, a look you hadn’t seen since the game of tag.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Geez, I must be way more excited for this match than I thought I’d be!

“That’s the spirit! Besides, as the lowest-ranked team, there’s nowhere to go but up,” you chirped, gathering your things and following the rest of Team Z down the hallway.

Isagi caught up to you, and together, you stepped onto the field.

It was time for your first match.

Chapter Text

Wing 5’s central field resembled a professional pitch with synthetic grass, sturdy goalposts, a storage cart overflowing with soccer balls, and benches on each side, presumably for the managers.

A massive screen loomed overhead, displaying the two competing teams: TEAM X vs. TEAM Z, along with a timer.

Team Z spread out onto the field when a robotic announcement sounded over the PA system.

“For the first selection, all foul decisions will be made by VAR.”

You glanced at your notes.

[The Video Assistant Referee debuted in the 2018 Russia World Cup. VAR helps ensure accurate and fair play.]

Despite your carefree and optimistic attitude from earlier, your stomach was starting to twist into knots. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this nervous at a game. Even the Saitama prefectural finals didn’t have you feeling like this.

God, if I feel this nervous, I can’t imagine how the others feel.

To your surprise, the others didn’t look nervous anymore. Instead, they looked ready to win. That sight eased your nerves slightly.

No, as their manager, I can’t afford to feel anxious. I’ll support them in body, mind, and soul!

Settling onto the bench, you pulled up Team Z’s roster and opened a blank sheet for notes over each player’s performance and general observations.

Absorbed in preparing for the match, you almost missed Kunigami’s words.

“Team X is here.”

You shot up immediately, wanting to see Team X in person for yourself.

As you thought, none of them initially stuck out to you besides the spiky-haired guy, now numbered as Player 10. Still, it would be a mistake to underestimate them. You had already warned Team Z about that.

Behind the players stood Team X’s manager, Tanaka Izumi, ranked #22 overall.

Kickoff was fast approaching, but you wanted to set a good mood for the match. With that in mind, you weaved through the players, making your way toward Tanaka.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you again! I’m Ish-”

You barely got the words out before she cut you off.

“#23, right?” she snickered, face full of smugness. “I look forward to seeing you drop in the ranks after my team wins.”

She extended her hand, confidence dripping from her body language.

Oh hell no.

Smiling sweetly, you took her hand in a much tighter grip than necessary.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, still smiling. “Either way, let’s have a good game.”

Tanaka flinched slightly, caught off guard by your unshaken demeanor and the strength in your handshake.

You returned to your bench, vexed by Tanaka’s words.

“Don’t let her get to you ♪, Ishika-chan!” Bachira threw himself around your shoulders, catching you off guard. You let out an airy laugh, patting his arm.

“I was a little annoyed, that’s all. It’ll take a lot more than that to really get to me. Now, get into position. It’s almost time for kickoff!”

The players took their positions as the announcement rang out. Isagi surged forward the moment the ball was in play, only to be immediately swarmed by three Team X players.

Obviously, you had expected this, which is why Bachira was set up to support him through his dribbling skills.

What you hadn’t expected was Raichi, one of your own, to snatch the ball away from Isagi.

“Raichi, stop! What are you doing?!” You yelled, desperate for your words to reach him, but no luck.

Before you knew it, it was an all-out battle for control of the ball. Players from both teams were stealing the ball, not just from opponents, but from their own teammates.

Even Kunigami is trying to steal the ball!

Across the pitch, you spotted Tanaka, panicking and shouting at her own team.

Suddenly, the hair on your neck stood on end.

Player 10 of Team X burst through the tangled mess of bodies.

Player 10, who you deemed dangerous from the start.

Player 10, who was easily evading your defenders.

Player 10, who scored the first goal of the game.

1 - 0.

“Everyone, back to your positions! We can’t win if you guys are constantly screwing each other over!!” You yelled out.

Your words fell on deaf ears, lost amidst the clash of egos.

No matter how hard the few cooperative players on your team tried, defending against the now unified Team X was impossible. Their goals kept stacking up, one after another.

All it took was a single goal for Team X to come together. It was all due to Player 10… no, Barou!

2 - 0.

Is this what Ego meant? Rebuilding soccer from zero…

3 - 0.

Barou’s domineering play on the field forced his team to bend to his will. To follow him. To start scoring goals.

4 - 0.

We need someone to do the same for Team Z, but who?! They’re all refusing to work together.

5 - 0.

With only three minutes left, the reality was clear. A comeback was impossible.

Please, just one goal. One goal is all I’m asking for.

As if answering your silent plea, Bachira lobbed a clean pass to Isagi, positioning him dangerously close to the goal.

“Yes! Keep going, Isagi!” You cheered, hope growing in your chest.

Come on, Isagi! Help us turn this team’s zero into a one!

Barou, unwilling to be outdone, rushed in to shut him down. Isagi’s options were limited, but behind him were Kunigami and Raichi.

Unexpectedly, Isagi passed to Kunigami, who was marked by one of Team X’s players. Yet, somehow, he scored.

Raichi was on Isagi in an instant, anger spilling out in harsh words you couldn’t hear, but you didn’t need to. You doubted they were anything close to pleasant. Isagi already looked shaken, but when Barou spoke, something shifted. His expression crumbled entirely.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the match.

5 - 1.

A bitter, crushing loss. You couldn’t even muster the courage to look at Tanaka.

Raichi tossed Isagi to the ground. Isagi barely reacted, still reeling from Barou’s words.

“That’s enough!” You snapped out of anger. Raichi merely scoffed and stormed off toward the locker room.

Isagi remained slumped on the ground. He had helped create the one goal Team Z scored, but in the end, it wasn’t his. At the crucial moment of being a striker, he had passed, like he had during the prefectural finals.

No wonder he’s upset.

You exhaled, softening your tone. “Isagi, the game’s over. We have to go debrief now.” You offered him a hand. Wordlessly, Isagi took it, dragging himself up and walking toward the locker room.

Tanaka’s voice rang out as she passed.

“Have fun at the bottom of the rankings!”

Just wait, Tanaka. I refuse to let things end like this.

“So, anyone care to explain what the hell happened out there?” Arms crossed, you scanned the room, daring someone to step up.

Unsurprisingly, no one took responsibility for the disaster of a match. Raichi, Igaguri, Naruhaya, Imamura, and even Gagamaru were already arguing, each demanding to be the next center forward.

You’ve gotta be kidding me!

“It won’t matter who the center forward is if we keep playing like this!” You screamed.

“We didn’t even last a minute before,” You jabbed a finger toward the biggest offenders, “you all started stealing the ball from your own teammates!”

“If we don’t get our act together, we have a snowball’s chance in hell of making it to the next selection!” You huffed.

The others looked ready to fire back, but Kuon spoke first.

“She’s right. We’ve already lost once. Do you understand the position we’re in?!” Kuon angrily asked. You furiously nodded in agreement.

“What are you trying to say?” Igaguri sneered.

“Listen, if we want to secure our advancement, we need seven points. That means two wins, one draw, and one loss.” You laid it out plainly, hoping the math would finally sink in.

Kuon jumped in, reinforcing your point. “This team is already one loss away from the end! That’s why we can’t just be thinking of ourselves right now. If we don’t seriously think about how to win, it’s over for all of us!”

The truth of the situation seemed to hit them all at once.

“…Then do you have some kind of good idea?” Igaguri snarked in defiance. Kuon meekly looked at you for help.

Stepping forward, you addressed the room. “Surely I’m not the only one who noticed Team X uniting around Barou, right?”

Your words hung in the air.

In the corner, Isagi finally lifted his head.

“Barou didn’t beg for teamwork. He forced it. Through sheer power, he made his team acknowledge him and follow his lead. All from a single goal. That’s exactly what we need.”

Kunigami nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. The goal I scored wouldn’t have happened without Bachira and Isagi.”

“Gimme a break, muscle-head! You’re just trying to get them to pass to you so you can score more goals and be the scoring king!!!”

Aaaaand we’re back right where we started.

Before you could react, a hand suddenly clamped over your eyes, making you jump.

“Hey, what the -”

“Sorry, Ishikawa,” Kuon said apologetically. “But it’s better if you don’t see this.”

You were about to protest when Igaguri’s shrill voice cut through the room.

“You’re naked?!”

Oh.

Yeah, it’s best if I don’t see that. I can handle them being shirtless, but completely naked is a no-go.

“Thanks, Kuon.” You hummed in appreciation. “And whoever’s naked, warn me next time!”

Bachira shouted back an apology, but he didn’t sound too sorry about it.

“Hey, everyone,” Isagi spoke up. “I don’t know what we need to do to win, but the more I think about it, the more Ishikawa has to be right.”

Kuon slowly removed his hand. Thankfully, Bachira had pants on now. Isagi continued, his tone more confident.

“Barou took the zero of the chaotic scramble and changed it into a one by stealing a goal with his own talent. So what we need to create that one is overwhelming individuality and talent.”

He put it way better than I ever could.

“Yep, you’re getting warmer.” Ego appeared on the screen looking as casual as ever. “The second match in Wing 5 finished up. Team V crushed Team Y 8-0.”

Your jaw dropped. What kind of monsters are on Team V?!

The room filled with cries of disbelief. Part of you zoned out after that defeating reveal, only managing to catch the end of Ego’s speech.

“Achieving the revolution known as a ‘goal’ can only be done with your weapons!!”

With those final words, Ego disappeared from the screen, leaving Team Z to think over the hint he had given them.

The disappointment of the match stayed with you throughout dinner, tainting your delicious mackerel. Miraculously, your ranking hadn’t dropped yet.

Guess Team Y’s abysmal defeat helped me stay ahead of Onoda.

Not that it was comforting. Team W hadn’t played, and player feedback hadn’t been completed yet. Moreover, your last exam score was good, but you weren’t sure if it was enough to maintain your ranking.

As if reading your mind, your tablet dinged with a new message.

Managers, post-match evaluations should be included in your report.

Additionally, each match can be downloaded to the tablet, laptop and later uploaded for viewing in the monitoring room. The recordings are attached for your convenience.

Players will submit feedback on your performance thus far by tonight.

Rankings will be updated tomorrow morning.

You sighed, hoping the meeting went smoothly.

By now, you should have known better than to expect an easy time with your ragtag group.

As you expected, certain weapons were obvious, like Bachira’s dribbling or Kunigami’s shooting power with his left leg. Others were questionable, like Igaguri’s so-called relentless spirit.

Regardless, you diligently jotted them all down on your laptop.

“Okay, next up is Isagi!” You announced, looking up expectantly.

“My weapon… uhh… umm… I wonder?”

Huh?

“Passing, right?” Igaguri muttered irritably, bitter about Isagi’s center forward role in the match.

“No, it has to be a striker’s weapon…” Isagi insisted.

You perked up. “Oh, what about… Er, what about…” Your words stalled. The team stared at you, waiting.

“Oh my god, I just read about this in the textbook…” You mumbled. “What about your spacing?”

Raichi immediately jumped on your weakness. “Do you even know what that means?”

You bristled. “Of course I know what it means! It means… uh… y’know!”

Crap, I’m totally drawing a blank! Curse you, Raichi!!

“What a manager we have.” Raichi mocked, smirking. Your face turned bright red, and with a displeased sigh, you went back to typing on your laptop.

Note: review extra hard after the team meeting!

You took a moment to compose yourself. “Okay, Isagi is thinking. Last is Chigiri?”

The pink-haired striker sat apart from the group, shoulders drawn inward, nearly curled into himself.

“I don’t wanna say.” Was all he said. The others prodded him for more, but he stubbornly refused, his earlier friendliness gone without a trace.

Well, now I really wanna know! You made a mental note to try and get it out of him later.

Kuon moved on, accepting Chigiri’s silence. “Basically, I think the most important thing is how well we can utilize our weapons.

Easier said than done.

Without a solid plan, things were bound to descend into chaos again. Judging by the uneasy energy in the room, the others shared the same concern.

But what worried you most wasn’t just the lack of strategy. It was the lack of camaraderie. If even one player tried to steal the ball from a teammate again, Team Z’s chances of survival would drop.

“Isn’t there some way that we can let everyone shine?” Isagi asked.

You stopped typing, thinking back to your “Strategies for Managing Youth Soccer” book you’d picked up while studying for the exam. You had bought it on a whim, thinking it would cover the basics in a beginner-friendly way. It was meant for elementary schoolers, not for the highest-ranked strikers in the nation, but maybe, just maybe, it could be useful here.

“What about an equal time distribution approach?” You suggested.

The strategy was meant to give all players field time and ensure no one was left on the bench for long periods of time. In this scenario, it could allow everyone a turn at playing center forward.

“Everyone will get a fair share of game time as center forward, regardless of skill level.” You added, lowering your voice, not wanting to offend anyone.

Truthfully, this wasn’t your ideal approach. It required tight coordination, and with limited days before your next match, it meant even more intense training. You would have preferred building the team around a strong player like Kunigami or Bachira, but you doubted the others would let that happen.

“That might work,” Kuon mused, tapping his pen against his chin. “This way, everyone would have an equal chance.”

And the most important part, everyone has to stick to the plan! If one player goes rogue, it’ll definitely affect their later play time. They’ll be a pariah!

You nodded, pleased that you had redeemed yourself after your earlier blunder.

“Now, we need a plan name…” Kuon paused, thinking.

“We’ll go with ‘Operation: Me, Next 11’!” he declared. Everyone in the room cringed at the lame name, leaving Kuon dejected.

Kuon slumped slightly, clearly deflated. You patted him on the back.

“There, there. You did your best.”

After the team meeting, you finally took a moment to breathe in your room. There was so much left to do, but you were completely exhausted.

I need to write that stupid daily report. Ugh, thinking of rewatching the match makes me sick to my stomach.

You knew things could’ve gone worse for Team Z, but that didn’t make the loss any easier to stomach. You were used to seeing teams lose. It was an inevitable part of the game, but as their manager, the weight of responsibility felt different than when you were a cheerleader.

Frustration built up, and before you knew it, your palm smacked against the bed as you forced yourself into an upright position.

No, no more moping! I’ll take a quick shower and knock that report out.

Determined to shake off the lingering disappointment, you rushed toward the bathroom, too caught up in your thoughts to watch where you were going. Unfortunately, you rounded the corner without checking and ran smack dab into someone.

You stumbled backward but managed to keep your footing. The other girl, however, let out a startled yelp as she fell to the floor.

It was Miyano. Her shower caddy lay beside her, toiletries scattered everywhere. She was shaking like a mouse.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!!”

Without hesitation, you knelt down, quickly gathering her things and helping her back to her feet.

“I-I’m sorry too. I should’ve b-been watching where I was going.” She murmured, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground, embarrassment written all over her face.

You gave an awkward laugh. “Seems like we’re always running into each other near the bathrooms, huh?”

Miyano simply mumbled a response, flustered.

You cleared your throat, hoping to ease the awkwardness. “How’s your team doing? I saw they won their first match.”

That got her attention.

“O-Oh. They’re d-doing great.”She admitted, twiddling her fingers. “Everyone was really excited when we won our match…”

“Yeah, I bet! Are they still treating you nicely?”

She nodded. “Mmm. I was half expecting them to stop being nice after the first few days, but they’re still so kind to me.”

You smiled, relieved for her. Miyano seemed prone to anxiety, and it was nice to hear her team was treating her well.

If only Team V weren’t such a monstrous powerhouse.

“I-I am having trouble with one of my players, though…” She divulged, her voice barely above a whisper. Your eyebrows quirked up.

“Hey, no worries. Some of my players give me trouble, too.” You assured her.

There was Raichi, always finding ways to tear you down. Igaguri and Naruhaya, skipping or leaving practice early. And now Chigiri, unwilling to share his weapon.

“T-that makes me f-feel a little better,” Miyano said before her eyes widened in realization. “N-not that I want you to struggle! I m-meant… er…” She went quiet.

You chuckled, waving off her concern. “I get it, don’t worry.”

“I have to get going now. Have a good night!” You called out as you headed toward the showers.

Miyano gave a tiny wave before disappearing down the hall.

The rest of the night passed by uneventfully. You managed to submit your daily report on time.

[...Barou’s presence dictated the match. His sheer force of will transformed Team X from scattered players into a team that revolved around his playstyle..…

… Isagi made a decisive play, passing to Kunigami to secure a goal. Yet, instead of seizing the goal himself, Isagi relented. His hesitation proves he hasn’t fully grasped what it means to be an egoist.]

With a sigh, you shut your laptop.

Tomorrow would be better.

Tomorrow was, in fact, not better.

The moment you woke up, your tablet lit up with a new message.

Managers, the rankings have been updated according to the latest exam scores, match results, and team feedback. Please take a moment to review.

You gulped, troubled about your placement. Bracing yourself, you pulled up the new rankings.

#21: Miyano Mayu

#22: Tanaka Izumi

#23: Matsukawa Ayaka

#24: Ishikawa Miharu

#25: Onoda Yui

…At least I’m not last. But how did Matsu move up two spots?

The only thing affecting her was her exam scores, while we had the matches and feedback incorporated into our scores.

You ran a hand through your hair, irritation brewing.

There goes my mackerel.

Using your dropped ranking and the team’s loss as motivation, Team Z threw themself into strenuous team training for multiple days. You had agreed to it as the team clearly needed it, but it also meant no time for breaks.

Day 4 of the regime and they’re still going strong. I’m seriously impressed.

You blew your whistle, the sharp sound cutting through the room. The players gathered around, sweating, panting, the strain of practice evident on their faces.

“Good work, everyone,” You began, scanning the group. “But we can’t stop here. I want to set up a penalty kick drill.”

Iemon’s head whipped toward you, eyes wide. He had volunteered to be the permanent goalkeeper for the rest of the matches. Chigiri had also volunteered to be defense for the whole match, removing him from the highly offensive strategy the team had come up with.

Operation: Me, Next 11 turned to Operation: Me, Next 9.

“Listen, the goalie is our last line of defense. A single mistake or a single save can change the entire course of a game. This goes for the other team, too. Ideally, we avoid relying on Iemon, but building up his skills, and yours, to get past the opposing goalkeeper is crucial.”

Silence settled over the group as they processed your words.

“…How are we doing this?” Chigiri finally asked. The others seemed to wonder the same thing, their faces expectant.

“You’ll take turns shooting at the goal while the rest of the team continues practice. The only way you get to return to team training is by successfully scoring a goal.”

Kuon glanced at the clock. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I get why you’re apprehensive. But I’d like to start prepping Iemon for one-on-one situations. I’m sure the other teams are ramping up their training too. We need to stay ahead of them.”

That was enough to convince them. Everyone nodded, resolve settling into their features.

“Naruhaya, you’re up first.” You called, watching him step forward.

As he did, you leaned toward Iemon and whispered, “Give it all you’ve got. Don’t go easy on them.”

Iemon nodded firmly, taking a deep breath and readying for the drill.

Despite the initial wariness over the time crunch, the drills had been extremely successful. You meticulously recorded each player’s success percentage, noting patterns in their shooting habits.

More importantly, Iemon was improving with every shot. His reactions sharpened, his positioning adjusted. All clear signs of progress. You couldn’t help but feel proud.

By now, dinnertime had long passed, and the team had opted for a quick meeting on the field.

“Tomorrow is our last day of training before our match.” You announced, addressing the group.

“We’ll revisit our strategy against Team Y and make final adjustments to our formations. Sounds good?” A chorus of yesses rang out in response.

Satisfied, you were just about to disperse everyone when Bachira snuck up behind you and started pushing you toward the goal.

“What’re you doing, Bachira?” You asked, mirth lacing your voice. By now, you were used to his touchiness and spontaneity.

“Ishika-chan, you have to try to score against Iemon, too ♪” He gleefully stated.

You shook your head. “Yeah, no way that’s happening. I’ve never played soccer, and I’m not wearing cleats.”

“That’s okay. Give it your best shot!” Naruhaya shouted.

“We’ll cheer you on! Hurrah!” Imamura added enthusiastically, attempting what looked like a mangled version of a t-jump.

“You have terrible form.” You shot back playfully before glancing down at the ball.

Oh, whatever. It’s not like they actually expect me to score.

Lifting your gaze, you locked eyes with Iemon.

He stared back, unwavering.

That’s it, Iemon. Don’t be soft. No matter who you’re facing.

Backing up a few steps, you tapped your foot against the pitch, testing your stance. You wanted enough room for momentum, like you’d seen the others do.

I’ll put all my power into my leg, like I used to back then…

“Here I come!”

You dashed forward, swinging your leg with everything you had. The ball flew through the air, veering right instead of where you had aimed.

Not perfect, but at least I hit it!

Iemon dove and effortlessly caught it. You flashed him a grin and a big thumbs-up.

“Nice job, Iemon! I would’ve held you for another hour of practice if you missed.” You laughed. Iemon sighed in relief, his shoulders easing up.

Bachira wasted no time clinging to you. “Don’t be sad, Ishika-chan! You gave it your best ♪”

You patted his head. “Thanks, Bachira. I get why you guys love this so much now. It was actually kinda fun.”

“Your kick had power for a first-timer,” Isagi noted, a hint of admiration in his tone. “You’ve seriously never played before?”

“Nope!” You gestured dramatically. “My entire athletic career has been spent on the sidelines. From fan to cheerleader.”

Isagi looked impressed, but before anyone could keep the conversation going, you shifted gears.

“Anyway, enough of that. You guys need to shower, eat, and get to bed.” You waved them goodnight.

As soon as they were gone, you collapsed onto the field, stretching out with a groan.

“I’m so tiiiiiired!” It felt ridiculous, rolling around on the field like a little kid, but it was extremely gratifying.

You let the tension seep out of your muscles, staring up at the overhead lights. The team had made major progress, especially considering where they had started. Still, the anxiety surrounding the next match was sneaking up on you.

And it wasn’t just that.

Your next managerial exam was coming up fast. This time, it covered management theories, strategies, and application-based approaches.

Another task on the ever-growing to-do list.

As you mulled over the life choices that led you to become a managerial intern, your stomach growled.

Loudly.

You jokingly patted your stomach. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you fed.”

Standing up, you dusted yourself off, mind already wandering.

I wonder if the others are already in bed.

Hopefully, my dad is doing okay.

Maybe I’ll run into Miyano again today.

Still need to talk to Chigiri about his weapon.

And Isagi, too.

Lost in thought, you walked toward the cafeteria, oblivious to the fact that two players were already inside.

A quiet conversation pulled you back to reality, stopping before you could trigger the cafeteria’s motion sensor.

“I play soccer so I can become a superhero.”

Kunigami!

So, his dream comes from soccer. The courage, excitement, and drive to inspire others, like when he was younger.

“For the sake of my dream, I’ll fight the world fair and square. There’s nothing embarrassing about that.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

Damn right, Kunigami. Never let anyone shame you for your dream.

You carefully stepped back, avoiding the motion sensor.

No way I’m interrupting this moment.

Sadly, your stomach betrayed you.

The loudest growl of your life echoed through the room.

Pleasepleasepleasetellmetheydidn’thearthat.

“Somebody there?” Kunigami asked gruffly.

No use in hiding now.

Bashfully, you stepped forward as the doors slid apart to reveal you.

“Hey guys, sorry about that! I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I swear!” you quickly explained, slightly panicked.

Kunigami relaxed almost immediately. “Oh, it’s you, Ishikawa. You’re just in time.”

He made his way toward the ID scanner, but your attention shifted to Isagi. He stood off to the side, head hung low, but watched Kunigami to see what he’d do next. Curious, you walked closer.

“Wanna share this?” Kunigami asked, holding out a plate with a juicy, sizzling steak.

“Huh…? Steak?! What is this?! Huh?!” Isagi exclaimed, his disbelief radiating off of him. You bit back a giggle over his reaction.

That steak does look suuuper tasty though.

“Isagi, goals earn you points, which can be traded for rewards.” You said, gesturing toward the sign on the wall.

You watched as the gears turned in his head, his eyes reading the prizes listed.

“That goal was half yours too, so half this meat is yours too.” Kunigami stated. Then, he turned to you. “Ishikawa, you can have a bit of my half too.”

You shook your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet, Kunigami, but I’d rather you eat it. I still have my full dinner.”

With that, you scanned in for your meal, the machine delivering the usual rice and miso soup. Except your side dish had changed from grilled mackerel to a salad.

How I miss you, my sweet fish.

You joined Isagi and Kunigami at the table, catching Isagi drooling over the steak in front of him.

Cute.

“So I wondered why you passed to me when I had someone guarding me so closely.” Kunigami said, addressing Isagi.

“Oh, I was wondering that too!” You chimed in, interested to hear Isagi’s answer.

“I think that was just an unconscious reaction. More importantly, I think I smelled a goal from your middle shot more than from Raichi.” He revealed, scratching his cheek sheepishly.

“You smelled a goal… huh.” Kunigami echoed.

“But I really should’ve tried to score myself. I didn’t have that weapon…” Isagi trailed off, discontent creeping into his tone.

You considered his words. “In that moment, you were incredibly aware of the field and understood the outcomes of each decision. Smelling a goal might actually be your weapon.”

Taking a bite of your salad, you grimaced.

Blegh. I wish this came with ranch.

“She’s right,” Kunigami agreed. “Being able to make such a decision unconsciously is a surprisingly incredible ability.”

You swallowed your bite before speaking again. “Besides, everyone’s weapon is still being developed. If we work on yours, you’ll eventually be able to use it to start setting yourself up for goals.”

Kunigami let out a pleased noise, the taste of the steak clearly overwhelming his senses. He motioned for Isagi to dig in.

“Mmm, so tasty!” Isagi melted into his seat, tears of joy gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“The more points we score, the more steaks ~” You sang playfully.

Isagi sat back, smiling brightly. “Thanks you two. I feel a lot better.”

Tilting your head, you grinned. “No need to thank me. It was all him. You’re a great guy, Kunigami!”

Said guy looked away, but you didn’t miss the faint blush spreading onto his face.

“Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.” He muttered, still avoiding eye contact.

You and Isagi exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between you.

“Are you the type who can’t take praise?” Isagi teased.

“Kunigami is secretly a softie!” You added.

Kunigami simply grunted in response, blush still on his face. You gathered your things, ready to head out.

“I’m heading out now. You guys should too, we have another long day tomorrow!” You hollered over your shoulder before leaving.

A quick shower, and you were finally in bed, placing your bracelet on the desk beside you.

The mattress felt like clouds, impossibly soft after such a grueling day, gently lulling you to sleep until a sudden realization struck like lightning.

Your eyes shot open.

Did I think Isagi was cute earlier?

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection.

Sleep had not been kind to you. Your bloodshot eyes, pronounced eye bags, and unruly bedhead were undeniable proof of your late-night overthinking.

So much for looking good, feeling good, and doing good.

You thought back to the absurd amount of time spent rationalizing Isagi’s apparent cuteness.

Everyone on the team has their appeal. Kunigami’s muscles, Bachira’s playfulness, and I bet good money that Chigiri was popular with the girls in school.

Hell, even Imamaura was popular according to the insane amount of chocolates he received. Isagi just has that boy-next-door kind of charm.

Nothing wrong with acknowledging it.

More importantly, today’s the last day before our next match!

You lightly slapped your cheeks, willing yourself to focus.

You double-checked that you had everything, not wanting to repeat the bracelet incident. But out of the corner of your eye, something shimmered.

Miyano’s hair clips.

You picked them up, turning them over in your hands.

She’s probably looking for this. I need to find her. I’ll check the cafeteria first, then head to her team’s area.

You speed-walked down to the cafeteria, checking every table for the shy girl.

Not here.

As you pivoted toward Team V’s area, you collided, hard, with someone.

“Ack, sorry! I’m in a bit of a ru-” The words died in your throat. The guy you had bumped into had chin-length purple hair with two asymmetrical locks framing his face.

That wasn’t what caught your attention, though. He was carrying another player on his back. One with messy white hair. Both were strikingly familiar.

“I-Is he okay?” You asked, brows furrowing in concern.

“Don’t worry about him. He does this all the time.” he reassured you, eyes twinkling with fondness.

Recognition set in. “You’re on Team V!”

They’re two of the players who stood out when I was deciding which team to pick!

“Eh? Yes, I am. My name’s Mikage Reo, but please call me Reo. And you are?” He asked, sounding vaguely amused.

“Oh, Ishikawa Miharu, manager for Team Z. I was actually looking for Miyano, your manager. I found something of hers in the bathroom.”

You opened your hand, revealing her hair clips. Reo leaned in, inspecting them.

“That’s great! I can take you to her. She’s been distraught all morning looking for them.” He said, relief evident in his face.

You nodded, letting him take the lead.

“Reo, where are we going? I’m hungry.” The boy was barely awake as he shifted on Reo’s back.

“Ms. Ishikawa here found Miyano’s lost hair clips.”

The boy’s response was sluggish. “That’s good, but I want breakfast after.”

And just like that, he went back to napping.

Reo chuckled. “Sorry, he’s always like this. His name’s Nagi Seishiro.”

Soon enough, the three of you reached Miyano’s room. Even before knocking, you could hear the frantic shuffling and tossing of objects inside.

You knocked firmly on the door.

“Miyano, it’s me, Ishikawa. I found your hair clips.”

The rapid pitter-patter of footsteps grew louder as the door slammed open.

“R-really?!” Her face was flushed, her chest heaving from the effort of turning her room upside down.

You held out the butterfly clips, and the moment they were in Miyano’s hands, she clipped them into place.

She grasped your hands tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I was so scared I lost them forever!” Miyano trembled like a leaf.

You gave her a comforting smile, rolling up your sleeve to reveal your bracelet.

“I know how you feel.”

Miyano’s eyes widened. “It’s beautiful… How can I ever repay you?”

“You don’t have to. It’s no trouble at all.” You soothed her.

“No, I insist!” Gone was her usual timidity, replaced with an unwavering will.

“I’d go along with it if I were you,” Reo advised warmly. “Miyano can be stubborn when she wants to be.”

“She turns from a mouse into a hawk when she does.” Nagi added lazily, staring at you from Reo’s back.

You crossed your arms, thinking.

“Well, if that’s the case… could you help me study for our managerial exams?”

“Of course I can. I usually study in the early mornings or after dinner. Is that alright?” She asked, peeking up at you.

“Yes, that works! We can meet in the cafeteria for ease.” You glimpsed at the clock on the wall.

“I have to go now, but I’ll see you tonight!” You ran off, behind schedule, but excited for tonight.

“Goodbye and thank you again!” Miyano called out.

Your stomach hurt from how fast you had scarfed down breakfast, but you pushed through, forcing yourself to concentrate.

“We’ll be going over our plan one last time before tomorrow’s match. The crux of our approach revolves around the weapons we developed earlier.”

Pulling up a map of the field on your tablet, you continued. “The past few days have been spent refining the best ways to utilize our weapons within different team formations. During the match, the order of forwards will be determined by everyone’s ranking.”

Naruhaya spoke up. “What about the other positions? It’ll get chaotic if we all change positions at once, and it’ll take up time.”

You signaled to Kuon to explain.

“If we rotate clockwise, it should be fine. You’ll just be shifting into a spot nearby.” He drew an example on your tablet, demonstrating the movement.

“I don’t really wanna do it, but I’ll go along with the plan this time!” Raichi snarked.

“Me too!” Gagamuru chimed in, pushing down Naruhaya’s head as he spoke.

They’re such good friends.

“That’s it for now. Resume the usual training regimen.”

A brief pause.

“Except for you, Chigiri. I’d like to speak with you.” Curious glances were exchanged, but the others gradually shuffled out of the room.

You waited, ensuring they were far enough away.

Chigiri wasted no time. “I’m not telling you my weapon.”

Wow. Shut down before I could even ask.

“Well, I am curious, but that’s only one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you.” You confessed.

He tilted his head slightly in an unspoken question.

You pointed at his hair, draped over his shoulders. “Do you want me to braid it?”

“…What?”

Confusion etched itself onto Chigiri’s face.

“During our match, your hair was flying everywhere and sticking to your face from the sweat. Do you want me to braid it?” You repeated.

He still looked hesitant about taking you up on your offer.

“I totally get it if you don’t want me touching your hair!” You reassured him quickly. “I could just show you how to braid it, and you could do it yourself.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why are you going out of your way for this? I don’t think braiding hair is part of a manager’s responsibilities.”

Why am I doing this?

True, part of it was purely practical. Keeping his hair out of his face during matches would be beneficial.

Honestly, the other part of it was personal.

Chigiri always kept his distance, his gaze downcast, avoiding any real connection with the others. It worried you. If you could connect with him, even a little, maybe he’d open up.

He’d probably clam up even more if I said that outright, though.

So instead, you took the overzealous manager approach.

“You’re right. Braiding hair isn’t exactly part of my managerial duties,” You agreed with a shrug. “But looking out for you guys is. And I believe that’s what makes a good manager.”

A battle of wills began as you stared each other down, neither willing to back down.

Miyano didn’t give in earlier, and neither will I.

Chigiri eventually relented, exhaling in mild defeat.

“Fine. But I’d prefer it if you just showed me.”

You beamed.

“Perfect! I’ll be right back. Gotta grab my hairbrush and some hair ties!” You shouted, rushing out of the room.

Chigiri simply waved you off.

Minutes later, you returned, slightly out of breath from sprinting back.

Setting everything up, you sat in front of him, making sure he had a clear view of your hands and movements.

“I should probably tell you, but I already know how to braid.” Chigiri admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You stiffened for a second before bouncing back.

“What kind of braid?”

He blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“There are different techniques. I’m assuming the one you know is the basic three-strand braid.”

“The one I want to show you is the Dutch braid. My friends and I used it all the time. It’s super secure. Never came undone, no matter how many flips or tosses we did.”

Chigiri frowned slightly. “My sister never mentioned there were different techniques.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“You have a sister?” You asked, surprised.

He nodded. “An older sister. She was the one who taught me how to braid.”

Your eyes gleamed with envy. “Lucky! I’ve always wanted a sister. Or a brother. Or just any sibling, really.”

The words left your lips easily, but you felt a familiar ache. One you thought you’d buried deep.

The house always felt too quiet when dad left for his business trips. Too empty.

I always secretly cried when he left.

I’d try to ignore it by staying busy with TV, baking, anything. On the especially lonely days, when the distractions wouldn’t work, I wished dad and mom were with me.

Someone to talk to.

Someone to make the house feel full again.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head, pushing the thought aside before it could linger.

The rest of the braiding session passed in comfortable silence. Chigiri was a quick learner, his gaze never straying from your hands and hair, absorbing every movement.

“And done! What do you think?” You asked, rocking back and forth expectantly.

He examined his work, displeased. “My arms are tired. And the braid’s crooked.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re being too hard on yourself. For your first Dutch braid, that’s pretty good. You’ll get better with practice.”

You were still admiring your own braid when Chigiri spoke again.

“You’re a good fit for our team. If anyone else were our manager, I never would’ve let them teach me how to braid.”

His words took you off guard.

“What? Why?” You asked, curious.

“It would’ve felt insincere. Honestly, I don’t think anyone else would go this far in the first place. Most people would’ve just handed me a hair tie.”

Huh, I guess I could’ve done that.

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from.

Back in junior high, you had always been the one who cared too much, did too much, and people had let you know it. Their words linger with you even now.

It feels nice to have my efforts recognized.

“I’m glad you got stuck with us.” He gave a small smile, stretching as he stood. “Even if we’re the worst team in the wing.”

And with that, he left the room.

You sat alone for a moment, stunned. Then, slowly, a tiny smile spread across your face.

Thanks, Chigiri. I’ll keep doing my best to support everyone.

You leaned back, staring up at the ceiling.

He had a nice smile.

A giggle bubbled up from your chest.

He was definitely popular with the girls in school.

Chapter Text

The overhead lights made your head throb, exhaustion setting in from the long day. Nonetheless, you were studying with Miyano and pushing through the fatigue.

“Next up is…” Miyano murmured, shuffling through her deck of flashcards. “What is groupthink?”

You tapped your pencil against the table, searching your brain for the definition. For the past hour, Miyano has been tutoring you for your upcoming managerial exam.

“Uhhh, groupthink is when everyone on a team feels pressured to agree… or think the same as everyone else.”

Miyano tilted her head expectantly. “Because?”

You furrowed your brows in deep thought.

“Because there’s a lack of outside perspectives… and similar backgrounds across the team!” you finished proudly.

Your study partner clapped. “Exactly!”

You gave a fist pump in excitement. “Miyano, I cannot thank you enough for this. The material is sticking better than ever.”

There was no doubt in your mind that your next exam score would improve.

“No need for thanks.” She said gently, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, teaching you helps me learn too.”

Ever since your earlier run-in, Miyano had seemed much more at ease with you. You weren’t entirely sure why. Whatever the reason, it made you happy.

“We should probably call it a day. I have to wake up earlier than usual to prep for my team’s next match.”

The small girl nodded. “We can continue this tomorrow morning if you’d like. I usually eat apart from my team during breakfast.”

You hummed, considering the offer. “Sure. I should be able to get everything done before breakfast.”

Your gaze drifted toward her butterfly hair clips. They were a brilliant blue with gold specks adorning the edges. They held her dark blue hair in place allowing you a clearer view of her face.

“Say, can I ask you something?”

Miyano nodded.

“What’s the significance of those?” You pointed at her hair clips.

Her fingers instinctively reached up to touch them with a delicate reverence as if tracing a memory. A softness settled over her expression as she found the right words to explain their significance. You waited patiently, giving her the time she needed.

Miyano swallowed before speaking.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed how anxious, nervous, and timid I can be,” She admitted quietly. “I wasn’t always like this.”

She was twisting the hem of her pajama sleeves as she spoke.

“I was in an… accident when I was younger.” Her voice was slightly wobbly, but she continued. “Day by day, I drew further into myself. My older sister gave them to me as a symbol of healing.”

Miyano’s eyes shined, not with tears, but with a quiet strength.

“She told me to keep my head up, and I’d start to see how beautiful the world is, little by little. That’s why these are so important to me.”

You were stunned.

Clearly, there was more to Miyano’s story that she wasn’t completely comfortable sharing. Still, it was obvious that she had already been through so much. There was a depth you hadn’t seen before, a quiet resilience, steady and unwavering beneath her usual timid demeanor.

Something stirred in your chest.

Respect. Maybe even admiration.

“Thank you for telling me. I think it’s incredible.” You said finally. “That you kept going. That you pushed forward.”

She gave a tiny smile.

“...What about you?” You followed her gaze, settling onto your wrist. The bracelet barely peeked out from under your pajama sleeve.

You took a deep breath.

She was willing to be vulnerable with me. I can do the same.

“Sorta. The bracelet is one of the only things I have left of my mother. She passed away giving birth to me.”

Your fingers drummed against the table as a distraction.

“The bracelet helps ground me when I start to feel overwhelmed or lost. It reminds me that everything will be okay.”

What you failed to mention were the times it didn’t work. The times when your mind spiraled beyond control. When every little mistake felt like the end of the world.

The times when you wondered if it would have been better if your mom had survived.

And you hadn’t.

Stop it. No more.

Despite not saying much, Miyano seemed to fully understand. A deep silence settled between you both.

Then, delicately, with a hint of hesitation, she reached across the table, placing her hand over yours.

A soft gasp escaped your lips.

“That must have been really hard. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

It wasn’t pity. It was recognition. An acknowledgment of the weight you carried. You rapidly blinked away the tears threatening to form, willing yourself to keep them from spilling over.

Neither of you spoke, but words weren’t needed. Your experiences have shaped you. Moments of weakness, doubt, and struggle, but here you were. Living and breathing.

The two of you continued to sit in comfortable silence, with a deeper understanding of each other, until you parted ways, turning in for the night.

Once again, you had slept terribly, barely getting a couple hours of shuteye. For entirely different reasons this time. The negative thoughts had wormed their way into your head and made you restless.

What the hell was I even thinking? Confiding in the first person to ask about me. I thought I worked through it.

Even now, your knees shook from a mix of nerves and fatigue.

Gross. My pillow’s soaked from sweat.

You gave a big sigh, rubbing your temples.

Laundry will have to wait as will my pity party. I have to get moving.

Falling into a routine, you went through the motions of washing up, getting dressed, and styling your hair with a ribbon. A blue polka-dotted one this time.

You loaded all necessary documents onto your tablet and then drafted the introductory section of your daily report. Finished, you left your room and headed toward the equipment room, unsteady on your feet.

You gathered enough water bottles and towels for everyone, including yourself. Taking a big gulp of water makes you feel a bit better.

Your early morning study session with Miyano was quick but productive.

“Name the stages of Lewin’s change model.”

“Unfreezing, change, freezing.”

“Correct. Describe the difference between soft and hard types of influence.”

“Soft relies on a person’s individual power. Hard relies on the power of an organization.”

“Correct.” She paused, examining your face. “...Are you feeling okay, Ishikawa? You do not look so good.”

You forced a half-hearted smile. “I’m fine. Just a little stressed is all.” Miyano didn’t look entirely convinced but dropped the subject.

“By the way, I can’t study tonight. I’ll be busy writing the report on today’s match.”

“Of course, I understand. Good luck with your match.” Miyano said, her face shy.

You were about to thank her when another voice cut in.

“What a nice surprise! #21 and #24 sitting together ~” Tanaka called out while using one hand to lean on your table.

Be polite. Be polite. Be polite.

You forced a greeting. “Morning to you too, Tanaka.”

Miyano’s reply was barely audible, more a whisper than a proper response.

Tanaka snickered, clearly enjoying herself. “Don’t tell me you two are forming an alliance to boost your rankings. I know you’re desperate, but this is too much even for you #24.”

Your patience was thinning. “We’re just studying together. Something you should probably be doing too.”

The other manager scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m #22. I’m not too worried, so focus on yourself. You look as pale as a ghost.”

Miyano hesitated, but then meekly spoke up.

“S-shouldn’t you be t-though? Your team l-lost their last m-match. O-one more loss and they w-won’t be able to advance.”

Tanaka’s smug grin fell.

“She’s right. What’s your plan then?” You taunted. Tanaka’s face turned bright red. Anger, embarrassment, or frustration? It was hard to tell.

“Say whatever you’d like. I’ll be moving forward no matter what.” She hissed out before storming off.

You and Miyano shared a look, then sighed in relief.

I need to freshen up. Make sure I don’t look ‘pale as a ghost’. Stupid Tanaka.

Slipping into the bathroom, you took a quick breather, splashing cool water on your face in a weak attempt to cool yourself. You lightly pinched your cheeks, hoping for some color to appear.

It did little to help as Team Z picked up on you looking worse for wear. Bachira bounded over, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Hmm, you feel a bit warm, Ishika-chan!” He studied your expression, waiting for an explanation.

You calmly pushed his forehead away. “It’s nothing, really.”

Seriously, what kind of manager am I to be worrying my team before a big match?!

Without a word, Isagi handed you a fresh water bottle from the stash you had prepared earlier. You had already finished your first one. You shot him a grateful look, silently thanking him.

“Let us know if you need anything.” Kunigami added, brows slightly furrowed with concern.

Just act like your usual self.

Now, you stood outside Team Z’s locker room, waiting for them to finish changing. In the meantime, you busied yourself by reviewing the latest match from Wing 5.

Team X vs. Team W. The latter had secured a 4-1 victory.

Kuon poked his head out, letting you know that everyone was dressed and ready. He jumped right into the pre-match meeting. “Just like us, it’s all over for Team Y if they lose.”

“Meaning they definitely have a plan, but so do we. Keep an eye on player #9, Okawa Hibiki.” According to Kuon, Okawa’s exceptional shooting technique earned him the title of Kumamoto Prefecture’s top scorer.

You spoke up. “Also, watch out for player #7, Niko Ikki! Unlike Okawa, he doesn’t have any standout physical abilities, but he has good game sense.”

Better safe than sorry.

You motioned for a team huddle, giving Kuon the cue to take over.

“All we can do is bring out what we practiced. We’ll win this even if it kills us, Team Z!!”

Your throat hurt, but you yelled anyway, energy high amongst the group.

“Yeah!!!”

As everyone headed out to the field, you walked alongside Chigiri. His hair was now styled in a half-up, half-down Dutch braid combo.

“I got creative.” He shrugged as if his impressive handiwork was nothing worth noting.

“It looks nice!”

Kunigami chimed in. “We were all surprised when he showed up like that.”

“For real! I didn’t even know you knew how to braid. What girl of yours taught you that?” Imamura teased.

You shook your head at Imamura’s antics. It still boggled your mind how ridiculously popular he was with girls. Apparently, he had received a grand total of 102 Valentine’s Day chocolates.

“None. Ishikawa taught me.” Chigiri stated, ignoring the way Imamura’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“Ehhhhhhh ~ That’s not fair! I want Ishika-chan to teach me too!” Bachira pouted.

You giggled. “Your hair’s too short for braids, Bachira. A headband or clips would suit you better.” He hummed thoughtfully, probably thinking of all the possible accessories he could try.

As you adjusted your ribbon, Isagi’s voice pulled your attention. “New ribbon?” he asked, a soft smile on his face.

“You’d be surprised by my giant ribbon collection. I might even have a soccer-themed one!” You joked.

He chuckled. “I thought we were supposed to be the soccer-obsessed ones.”

The liveliness of the group was a much needed pick-me-up after the crappy night you had.

With only a few minutes until kickoff, the team focused on last-minute stretches. Soon, Team Y walked in, their expressions deadly serious.

Makes sense. This match will decide everything. Whether their soccer careers continued or ended here.

You locked eyes with Team Y’s manager, Onoda Yui.

Internally, you groaned. Last time’s attempt at sportsmanship had gone terribly. Yet here you were, about to try again.

“I’m Ishikawa Miharu. Let’s have a good match!”

Onoda met your gaze. “I am Onoda Yui. Likewise.” She was about to turn on her heels when she abruptly stopped, a question forming on her lips.

“Your team needs this win, right?”

You huffed, unamused. “Yeah, but I’m really not in the mood for catty remarks.”

Onoda snorted. “Neither am I.” She carefully chose her next words. “We’re the same. We both desperately need this win. Otherwise…”

It was left unsaid, but the meaning hung between you.

Otherwise, our teams are eliminated and there’s a high likelihood we are too.

You reached out, offering a handshake. Onoda gripped it firmly.

“May the best team win.”

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the match. As planned, Bachira started as a center forward, using his dribbling as his weapon. A highly independent strategy where he would break through Team Y’s defense alone, with Team Z acting purely as support.

Very egotistical.

Expectedly, Team Y immediately pressed hard to try to stop him.

“It’ll take more than that to stop our little bumblebee.” You mused aloud, furiously scribbling down notes on your tablet.

You should’ve kept your mouth shut because no sooner had the words left your mouth did a third defender join the press. Player #7, Niko Ikki.

Figures. Team Y must have developed a strategy to neutralize our weapons.

Thankfully, Team Z was sticking to the plan and was supporting Bachira to the best of their abilities.

We just have to keep the pressure up. If we can do that, we’ll win!

The first ten minutes flew by and the formation rotated to Kunigami as center forward. As opposed to Bachira’s individualist approach, Kunigami’s weapon thrived on team coordination. The others would get the ball close to the front line, pass, and clear a straight path for a goal.

Frustratingly, Team Y had prepared for this too, and blocked Kunigami’s shot. Luckily, Isagi took possession of the ball, working with Bachira to set up Kunigami for another attack.

In the midst of the chaos, you noticed two things.

One, Okawa wasn’t defending or attacking. He was simply waiting.

But for what?

Two, Niko was directing his teammates, ensuring they were positioned to block Team Z’s scoring opportunities.

Your breath hitched.

Now that you thought about it, Niko had been the only one smart enough to immediately grasp the situation during the initial free-for-all chaos in Team Y’s first match.

Don’t tell me…Is Niko the actual threat and not Okawa?!

“Dammit!! Again?!” Kunigami’s frustrated cry rang out as his second attempt was blocked.

Your head whipped toward Onoda. She looked pleased.

Not good!

You stood up so fast that a wave of dizziness hit you. Gripping the bench for support, you shouted before the words could slip away.

“Niko’s coordinating the others, including Okawa! They’re aiming for a counter-attack!!”

It was no use. The lack of defenders near Okawa combined with his weapon easily netted him a point.

Kuon rallied the team as the formation switched to him, but the ball was stolen. A bad feeling came over you.

During your exam prep for Blue Lock, you had studied possession ball as a strategy. A tactic centered around holding the ball for extended periods of time, running down the clock, and systematically wearing down the opposing team.

Unfortunately, your intuition had been spot on. The clock ran down until halftime, with Raichi and Imamura unable to truly utilize their weapons. Team Z’s locker room erupted into squabbling.

You sat next to Naruhaya, trying to control the shake in your legs. The heated arguments faded into background noise as you focused on your breathing.

Inhale. One, two, three.

The lack of sleep is catching up to me.

Exhale. One, two, three.

“–kawa? Ishikawa?” Naruhaya’s concerned voice pulled you back to reality.

You blinked, forcing a reassuring smile.“O-oh, sorry! Zoned out a bit. What’s up?”

The others exchanged glances, concern flickering in their expressions. Isagi cleared his throat before speaking. “Did you notice anything while watching the first half?”

Ah, so they didn’t hear me when I yelled out earlier.

“Yup. I think Niko’s the real threat here. Okawa’s the one making the goals, but only because of Niko’s coordination.”

“Hah?! How the hell is shitty bangs a threat?” Raichi scoffed.

“To be honest, I’ve been watching from the goalpost, and I haven’t noticed Player #7 making any moves…”

“That’s the point!” You exclaimed. “He’s keeping a low profile, making sure he goes unnoticed, which makes his plans easier to execute. Every critical moment of the match has involved him so far.”

Despite your reasoning, the team still seemed unconvinced, especially Raichi.

“Seriously?! You’re just coming up with some lame excuse to cover up your shitty deduction skills. Acting like he’s some da–”

You cut him off before he could continue.

“Shut up. Don’t talk to me like that again, or I’ll make sure you never touch a damn soccer ball again. You hear me?”

Raichi sneered. “What a crappy threat.”

You felt anger boil inside you. I’m getting real sick of his nasty attitude.

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

You gave the coldest glare you could muster. Exhaustion, dehydration, and frustration grated on your patience. Your head was starting to pound.

You exhaled slowly, forcing the anger in your chest to disappear.

“Look, just someone keep an eye on him, okay?”

Staring at you is Isagi, his eyes swirling with an emotion you can’t name. He gives you a strong nod, solid and certain. A weight lifts from your shoulders.

At least someone’s on the same page as me.

Halftime was over and the game started up again. You sank onto the bench, pressing your water bottle against your forehead.

Ahhh, that feels nice…

On the field, Imamura was unable to steal back possession, but Gagamaru snatched the ball in time for his formation. The mountain man’s weapon relied on his springlike physical abilities.

You watched with bated breath as Isagi launched an early cross, setting Gagamaru up for a header attempt.

In any case, we secured a corner kick.

“Gather in front of the goal! It doesn’t matter what you do, just cram in there!” The yell had players from both teams cramming the goal area, a cluster of bodies vying for control.

You cupped your hands around your mouth, shouting over the chaos. “No! Don’t send too many forward! Keep an eye on –”

Your words died mid-sentence.

At that moment, Isagi darted out of the mess straight toward Niko, blocking him from getting the ball.

“Keep going!!!” Your throat ached from screaming, but your eyes never wavered from Isagi.

He had a clear path to the goal with the left corner being wide open. Team Z had kept the opposing defenders and even the goalkeeper occupied. Niko, however, closed in fast, managing to send Isagi’s shot veering off course.

Amazingly, Gagamaru adapted, using the failed shot as a pass. And just like that, he scored Team Z’s first goal.

The match’s intensity ramped up a notch, each team desperate to win. Team Y’s defense tightened, blocking every pass your team made. In response Team Z became more aggressive, aiming to net another point for the win.

You checked the clock.

It should be Isagi’s formation now. Why is it still on Naruhaya?

Your gaze snapped to Isagi, catching sight of him talking with Niko on the field. In the short time you’d known him, one thing had become clear. Isagi was highly cooperative and had a strong tendency to take care of his teammates.

Even during the prefectural finals, you had overheard Ichinan’s strange motto as they stepped onto the pitch.

One for all, all for one. Has he been using his strengths for the sake of the team up until now?

Still, he had been deeply shaken after passing in the first match. Isagi wouldn’t resign himself to merely a tool.

There has to be a reason behind this. I’ll trust his judgment.

It was time for Igaguri’s formation, but with Team Y guarding the ball, he was stuck.

One minute left!

Your stomach dropped. The entirety of Team Y rushed forward. A full offensive attack, abandoning defense entirely. Nobody saw it coming.

Your goal area was wide open. Niko was sprinting toward Iemon.

A one-on-one.

Come on, Iemon! We trained for this!

Just as you thought Niko would take the shot, he passed.

Passed straight to Okawa, who had been lying in wait.

Crap, I totally forgot about him!

A loud thwack echoed through the field as Isagi intercepted the ball.

He launched it toward Kunigami, who chested the pass with ease. Two defenders latched onto him quickly, forcing a pass to Bachira. The latter dribbled past Team Y effortlessly and seemingly sent an early cross to Gagamaru, but the ball was too low. Gagamaru crashed face-first into the ground.

Wait, no! It’s actually meant for –!

The ball continued its trajectory, landing near Isagi. He let out a powerful kick, sending the ball straight into the net.

Isagi stood there, panting, eyes wild, and fierce. The same look he had back in the locker room.

It was bewitching.

Speechless, you could only watch as Team Z swarmed him. Their shouts of excitement filled the pitch.

“Time's up! Blue Lock Wing #5’s fourth match is a 2 - 1 victory for Team Z!” The announcement sent another wave of joy to your team.

You hugged your tablet, triumph flooding your chest. Across the pitch, Onoda snatched up her belongings, anger burning in her expression as she stalked out of the room.

A twisted sense of pride filled you at the sight.

You scanned the field. Team Y was scattered, some players crying, others stumped into silence.

That’s right… only one player will be moving forward from Team Y now.

You were still contemplating who it would be when Isagi suddenly strode past the defeated players, stopping right in front of Niko. The banged boy's eyes brimmed with despair as he looked up at Isagi.

Isagi said nothing, but a small shudder ran over his body. You grinned.

Is this what an egoist looks like?

A cry of your name was the only warning before Bachira threw his arms around your shoulders in a side hug. Normally, you braced for impact, but exhaustion left you weaker than usual.

As a result, you both toppled over.

“Oompf!” you yelped, the ground meeting you faster than expected.

“Oi, Bachira. Get off of her.” Kunigami came to your rescue. A true hero.

“What happened?” Isagi jogged over, his voice tinged with concern as he quickly helped you up.

“Bachira decided it was a great idea to tackle our manager.” Chigiri said, exasperated.

“Ishika-chan, are you okay? I didn’t mean to…” Bachira’s remorse was written all over his face. He looked like a kicked puppy.

You chuckled. “I’m okay, but go easy on me, alright? I’m a delicate flower!”

“Oh, please.” Raichi scoffed, arms crossed. “You’re as delicate as a rhino.”

You rolled your eyes, unfazed. “Mock me all you want, Raichi, but nothing is ruining my good mood right now!”

“More importantly, where’s Gagamaru? I need to make sure he didn’t hurt himself!”

A huge potluck was held to celebrate Team Z’s first victory. Everyone brought side dishes, including the delicious mackerel you’d been craving. Graciously, Isagi and Gagamaru traded in their newly earned points for steaks to share with the team.

“Cheers!!!” You raised your cup of water before greedily gulping it down. A faint dizziness still clung to you, but the warmth from earlier had eased.

You leaned against the lockers, their cool surface a welcome relief. Meanwhile, the others gushed over the juicy steaks, dramatically professing their love for the meat.

You completely understood. Outside of Blue Lock, you were a complete glutton.

It was awful luck really. You’d have loved to devour everything, but at this rate, you were certain you’d throw up. Instead, you settled for a plate of salad and omelet.

So long, my delicious mackerel and steak…

With a sigh, you picked at your food, letting your entertainment come from the others.

Gagamaru had Naruhaya in a headlock, demanding his portion of steak back. Isagi and Kunigami were drooling over the spread of food. Igaguri’s offer of pickled radish was blatantly rejected.

The camaraderie was slowly, but surely building among them.

You felt so proud.

Or, you would, if not for the lingering thought of your earlier outburst in the locker room. As a manager, you should’ve been more professional.

You set your plate to the side. Nobody was paying attention to you right now, and the noise made it unlikely they’d hear you over the commotion.

To your left sat Raichi, also watching Team Z’s horseplay.

“Hey, Raichi?”

He grunted, barely acknowledging you.

“I wanted to say sorry for how I talked to you in the locker room. I was out of line.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head slightly turn toward you. He stared for a moment, then returned his gaze to the others.

“Hmph. Everybody gets mad. Not like you're some saint.”

A pause. Then he spat out his next words, almost like it hurt to say.

“Besides, you were right about shitty bangs… and I was out of line too.”

You bit back the smile threatening to form and merely nodded your head.

Looking back at the others, you saw Bachira holding out a bite of meat for Isagi. Mischievously, he tried feeding Isagi, but the latter expertly dodged. Eventually, Bachira won and Isagi was forced to eat the meat.

“Anyway, this means Isagi’s weapon is that he can ‘smell a goal.’” Kunigami swallowed his gyoza, before continuing.

“I’m sure he’s the only one who knows what that feels like, but Team Z won because of his goal. There’s no denying that.”

Raichi muttered something under his breath, but you ignored him.“That’s right. We wouldn’t be here without Isagi or Gagamaru’s goal!”

You raised your cup high, toasting to them one more time. A tiny blush spread across Isagi’s face.

He must not be used to praise.

“That’s right. We managed to win so Team Z will fight on!!!” A chorus of cheers erupted following Kuon’s words. The team was still riding the high of victory.

You stared down at your plate grimacing as you forced down a bite. Across the room, Igaguri stared at you.

“Are you on a diet?”

The words had barely left his mouth before Imamura jabbed him in the side. “Idiot! You never ask a girl about her weight!”

“I didn’t! I asked if she was on a diet!”

“That’s basically the same thing!”

Aaaaand that’s my cue to leave.

As the two bickered over the nuances of asking girls questions, you stood up.

“See?! Now she’s leaving because of your stupid question!”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“No, I’m leaving because I have to write my daily report. There’s a lot to cover, especially after that crazy match we had.”

You placed your plate in the center of the table, ignoring the ongoing argument, and called out a good night before heading toward your room.

My ranking should go up because of our win and, hopefully, their positive feedback. Or maybe not. Matsukawa did pull out a win over Tanaka. Shoot.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts.

“Ishika-chan.” It was Bachira. His usual cheerful demeanor had vanished, replaced by an oddly serious look.

“What’s up?”

“What’s going to happen to Team Y’s manager?” The question caught you off guard, but you answered as best you could.

“She won’t be eliminated right away, but her ranking will most likely take a hit. A team’s success percentage doesn’t entirely dictate a manager’s ranking, but it does factor into it.”

Bachira frowned, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “So she still has a chance to advance?”

You nodded. “Yeah. What brought this on?”

Bachira averted his gaze.

“The other manager left her team right away. She didn’t stick around. Just left as soon as they weren’t useful anymore.”

His eyes lifted from the floor, locking onto yours with startling intensity. “You won’t do that to us, will you?”

Behind him, the communal sleeping quarters roared with laughter and shouting. Out in the hallway, it was quiet. His gaze burned into you. Your breath hitched.

You swallowed, strengthening your voice. “No, I would never do that. Win or lose, I’m with you guys till the end.”

For a moment, Bachira just stared. Then his signature smile returned, bright and unrestrained as he flung himself onto you.

“I knew our Ishika-chan wouldn’t do that to us ~”

You groaned, playfully shoving at his shoulder. “I thought I told you to go easy on me!”

Bachira jolted, quickly pulling away, a sheepish grin crossing his face.

You laughed. “Goodnight, Bachira. I’ll see everyone in the morning.”

The relief from earlier had been temporary at best because now every inch of your body ached. Your bones craved the comfort of your bed, but the report still wasn’t done.

[…Niko Ikki proved to be Team Y’s tactical backbone, creating counterattack opportunities and coordinating defensive strategies….

…Isagi displayed exemplary growth in today’s match. Rather than simply playing for the team, he actively pursued control by relying on his own judgment, skills, and weapon. This shift is crucial to his development as an egoist…]

You hit the submit button and then immediately laid your head down on your desk. The warmth had returned to your body. Your thumb brushed over the family photos, the familiar touch grounding you.

“My team won today, dad. I was seriously worried, but they pulled it out.” A quiet pause, fingers idly playing with your bracelet.

“There’s this other manager. Her name’s Miyano. She’s sweet. I think you’d like her, mom.” Your voice was muffled, barely more than a mumble.

You cleared your throat, trying to shake off the haze. “I love you two, but I need to go shower. I feel gross…”

You trailed off as your eyes landed on your sheets, still sitting there, waiting to be washed. A groan slipped out as you snatched them up, stalking toward the laundry room.

I’ll wash these now and hopefully they’re done after I shower.

Luckily, the washers were completely open. You wondered how often the others washed their bedding. With that fleeting thought, you headed back to your room, grabbing your toiletries. Before leaving, you undid your ribbon and unclipped your bracelet, placing them on the desk.

The shower was pure bliss although you were a bit wobbly. The cool water felt so incredible that you were tempted to stay forever. As you stepped out, a sway overtook you, the dizziness pressing in again.

You chuckled, breathless.

I’m gonna sleep so good tonight.

As you slowly walked back to your room, you heard a noise coming from the monitoring room.

Seriously? Is everyone in Blue Lock a night owl or something?

Curiosity tugged at you, but fatigue won over.

Using the wall for support, you continued walking down the hallway.

Or at least you tried to.

Another wave of dizziness hit with stars dancing in your vision. Your grip slipped and your belongings clattered loudly against the empty hallway floor.

I need to sit down…

Your legs folded underneath you, but even then a tingling sensation spread through your body.

Another thud echoed.

It took you a second to realize it was your own body hitting the floor. The stars faded, replaced by darkness.

Voices surrounded you as you faded in and out of consciousness. The only thought that crossed your mind before you passed out was –

Shit, I need to switch my laundry to the dryer.

Chapter Text

A pleasant chime rang out, signaling the end of the school day.

Survived another day…

You were only a month into junior high and things had gone to shit.

As you opened your desk, your stomach sank.

Filled with thumbtacks…again. Guess they’re switching things up from the notes or gum.

Rumors swirled around you thanks to a couple of immature guys from your class. Originally the whispers didn’t bother you. It was all talk, but soon, it wasn’t just talk anymore.

People started believing it, latching onto the fabricated version of you. It didn’t matter how many times you denied it. They had already made up their minds.

Their methods steadily grew worse throughout the month. First, came the notes. Malicious words were scrawled onto crumpled paper containing insults about your looks, personality, and anything else they come up with.

When that wasn’t enough, they started targeting your personal things. Your P.E. clothes disappeared, your shoes were slashed, and your textbooks kept vanishing.

The bolder ones escalated beyond that. They tripped you, roughly bumped into you, and one time even locked you in the bathroom. It was nearly an hour before a teacher found you.

At the beginning, you tried reporting it, but the teachers brushed it off. Some didn’t believe you due to your less than stellar reputation. Others seemed more focused on the school’s image than actually helping you.

You thought about telling dad, but you didn’t want to burden him. Not that he would ever think that, but still. The busy season was on for work and he was visibly stressed.

You didn’t want to add onto that.

I can handle this on my own. I have to.

You walked briskly toward the shoe cupboard, eager to escape the hushed whispers and piercing stares surrounding you.

“That’s her, right?”

Your steps quickened.

“Ehhh, she’s so gaudy!”

Your shoulders hunched, instinctively trying to shrink yourself from view.

“Let’s just stay away from her. She’s nothing but trouble.”’

Your fingers brushed against your bracelet, seeking comfort in its familiarity.

I can hear you, y’know…

You hurriedly switched your shoes and slinged your bag over your shoulder, more than ready to leave. As you turned to leave, two boys suddenly stepped in front you.

A brunette and a blonde from your class. The source of the rumors, if your suspicions were right. The brunette had asked you out on the first day of junior high. You had politely refused. Apparently, that hadn’t sat well with him.

“Miharu-chan, where are you going?” he purred, his face dangerously close to yours.

You shoved him away, your tone cold. “Don’t call me that. We’re not friends.”

The blonde snickered, his grin laced with cruelty. “We just want to spend time with you. Get reeeeal close.”

He leered at you, sending goosebumps up your arm. The implication of his words and ogling were not lost on you.

Your grip tightened on your bag, knuckles whitening. Around you, the whispers swelled and the stares turned into sharp edged glares.

Why? What did I do to deserve this?

You tried to push past them, but their hands clamped onto your shoulders.

“Let me go!”

“Don’t be mad, Miharu-chan! You’re too cute for that!”

“I said don’t call me that!” you snapped. You swung your bag at him, a sense of satisfaction filling you as he stumbled backwards. He clutched his face with a grunt.

That’s what you get for being a douche!

“You stupid bitch. You think you’re hot shit just because you’re pretty?!”

You simply glared, chest heaving, but your blood ran ice cold at what he said next.

“Your mom’s probably rolling in her grave, seeing what a stupid slut her daughter’s become.”

You froze.

Giggles spread like wildfire through the crowd who were watching you like spectators at some circus act.

A cool breeze ruffled your hair, deceptively gentle against your shit reality.

Why?

Above, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, indifferent to your plight.

Why me?

The boys continued spewing insults, but you couldn’t hear them anymore.

What did I do?

All you heard was the ringing in your ears. The boiling blood rushing through your veins.

Your fingers curled into fists.

I’ve had enough of this bullshit.

You dropped your bag, landing with a harsh thud.

“Aww, is Miharu-chan ang–”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because your fist connected with his face. A satisfying crack rang out as he fell backwards on his ass. The other idiot ran to help him.

The giggles stopped, replaced by a chorus of gasps.

Here’s something to talk about, fuckers.

Blood gushed from the idiot’s nose and dripped from your hand. Your hand clenched and unclenched as you relished the feeling.

You took a step forward and locked your gaze onto the morons. They stared up at you, disbelief flashing across their faces. Utterly dumbfounded by what you had just done.

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done with you.”

A harsh gasp tore from your lungs as you bolted upright. A sheen of sweat trailed down your forehead.

For a moment, you remained still, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

The room was unfamiliar. Fluorescent lights hummed faintly, the walls were sterile white, and a row of beds lined one side of the room. Each was neatly made with crisp sheets. A metal cabinet stood near the back, likely stocked with basic medical supplies. A desk sat near the entrance, cluttered with papers.

You curled inwards, resting your head against your knees.

It’s been so long since I’ve dreamt about that…

Your throat tightened as tears pricked at your eyes.

Those assholes got what was coming, but you still regretted throwing that punch. When they had brought up your mom, it was like something inside you had snapped.

Next thing you knew teachers were pulling you away as the boys laid beaten on the ground.

They had been hospitalized for days. What was left of your reputation crumbled after that. Everyone branded you as a delinquent. A good for nothing troublemaker.

I can’t blame them though. I went too far, even if they deserved it. Not to mention the look on dad’s face when he found out…

“You’re awake.”

Blinking away the tears, you lifted your head.

A tall girl stood before you, neatly dressed in black scrubs. Her silver hair was tied back in a ponytail. In her hand was a cup of tea.

“Mmm.” Your throat was still tight and that small sound was all you could manage.

“That’s good. Your friends brought you in after you collapsed in the hallway.”

She set her tea down, reaching for a clipboard and pen from the desk.

“They wanted to stay until you woke up, but I sent them away.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “W-wait, I collapsed?!”

She nodded, settling onto the medical stool, and scooted closer. “Yes. I believe it was from a combination of exhaustion and stress.”

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the last thing that happened.

“Who exactly brought me here? I can’t seem to remember…” You trailed off, thinking hard about the voices you had heard before everything went dark.

“Apologies, I did not catch their names. One had pink hair… and the other had a sprout.”

Using her fingers, she formed an odd plant-like sprout atop her head, wiggling them for effect.

You giggled. “Oh, you’re talking about Isagi and Chigiri. They’re players on my team.”

A sprout, huh? Never realized Isagi had one till now.

The girl nodded, jotting down notes on the clipboard. “Any other questions?”

You asked the one thought gnawing at you most. “Er… yeah. Who are you? And… will this affect my role as a manager?”

Your chest tightened.

I really don’t want to leave. Not like this.

“Pardon my rudeness, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Settsu Aimi. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She gave a slight bow. Formal yet effortless.

“I am the patient care technician for Wing 5.” Seeing the confused look on your face, Settsu continued. “Each wing has one technician who has been selected as part of a medical training program.”

You leaned back, resting against the bed. “So the managers aren’t the only ones in a specialized program…”

“Correct. However, I believe no other programs are being conducted besides the ones for the athletes, managers, and technicians.”

She returned to writing, pen gliding across the clipboard with practiced ease. “As for your role as a manager, I would not be concerned.”

“From what I have seen, your condition should be easily remedied with proper sleep, hydration, and mental relaxation.” Settsu stated, unworried.

Her eyes briefly flickered toward you. “Of course, I will be able to provide further recommendations once we have completed the check-up.”

You shakily exhaled. “Alright... uh, will this be reported to Ego and Anri?”

Settsu nodded. “I am required to submit documentation on all infirmary visits, regardless of severity. Again, I don’t expect this to affect your role in an adverse way.”

Well, that’s a relief.

You opened your mouth to ask another question, but she spoke first.

“I’m terribly sorry, but we must go through this medical check-up to ensure there are no serious concerns about your condition.”

For the next half hour, Settsu reviewed your medical history, checked your vitals, and conducted a thorough head to toe assessment. According to her, there were no alarming concerns.

You were in perfect health, at least physically.

Her theory was straightforward. A sudden spike in stress, coupled with ongoing fatigue, had overloaded your system and ultimately caused you to collapse.

You had a sneaking suspicion that talking about your mom had triggered it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud. Instead, you chalked it up to something more tolerable.

Homesickness.

Settsu didn’t press the issue. She released you, but mandated that you come back in two days for a follow-up appointment.

You flopped onto your bed, finally done with the check up, and tired as all hell. Sadly, your bed didn’t have any sheets as they had been sitting in the washer. You had switched it over after leaving the infirmary.

The clock on the wall read 4 AM.

I can nap for two hours then I have to start the day.

The team had planned to increase their training in preparation for the next match. Team X and Team V boasted higher-ranked players based on goal counts and the recorded matches.

Ahh…I still have to study with Miyano. Our exam is tomorrow.

Sleep pulled you under quickly, the blankets wrapping around you like a cocoon.

Too well, in fact because you slept straight through your alarms.

A hard, rapid knock at your door startled you awake.

Your eyes snapped to the clock.

6:47 AM?!

The knocking continued.

“One sec!” you called out, scrambling out of bed. You glanced in the mirror, immediately regretting it.

Your bedhead was a disaster, pajamas a wrinkled mess, and your eyebags looked worse than ever.

How did they even get that bad?!

You slid the door open.

Isagi stood there, hand raised mid-knock. He awkwardly lowered it before blurting out a question.

“Ishikawa! Are you feeling okay?” His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of injury.

You let out a small, sheepish laugh, and rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, I’m okay! Thank you, and Chigiri, for taking me to the infirmary.”

Isagi shook his head. “No need to thank us. Anyone would’ve helped.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your cheeks warming. “Still, it’s a little embarrassing that you saw me like that…”

“No way, we’re just glad you’re okay!” He hesitated. “…You are okay, right?”

You vigorously nodded. “I am! And I’m going back later for a follow-up, just in case.”

Isagi exhaled, relief visibly seeping into his body. “Good.” He faltered for a brief moment, as though weighing his next words. “I don’t want to overstep, but if you ever feel like that again, tell us. You’re part of the team.”

A smile accompanied his words. Genuine and kind.

I have such a sweet team.

You returned his smile. “I will, promise.”

He perked up at that. You added, “Thanks again, Isagi. You’re a great guy. I’ll see you after breakfast.”

Feeling much better, you slipped back into your room to get ready for the day.

What you didn’t see was the rosy blush spreading across Isagi’s cheeks. A reaction to both your compliment and radiant smile.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself together in less than 20 minutes, making yourself presentable before hurriedly rushing to the cafeteria.

After grabbing your meal, you frantically scanned the room for your study partner. Miyano was sitting off to the side, calmly writing notes on her tablet.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait long!” you called out, setting your things down onto the table.

She looked up, eyes sparkling. “It’s okay. I haven’t been here long.” She fidgeted, nervously adding, “A-and congratulations on your win!”

She shyly lowered her head, but the happiness in her expression was real.

Agh, how sweet can she be?!

“Thanks! It got dicey for a bit, but we bounced back.” You beamed.

Miyano focused back on her notes. “Do you feel better today? I know you were quite stressed about your match yesterday.”

You took a bite of your rice, chewing and swallowing before answering. “Mmm, much better. Though I was definitely overwhelmed, since I ended up collapsing later on.”

You took a sip of miso soup, letting the warmth soothe your throat.

“Luckily, two of my players found me and took me to the infirmary. That’s why I was a little late today. All good now though!” Your cheerful tone contradicted the seriousness of what had happened to you.

Miyano didn’t say anything. Her jaw hung open, eyes wide, and chopsticks frozen in mid-air.

Uh oh. Think I acted too casually about it.

A serious look crossed Miyano’s face as she set her chopsticks down. “Ishikawa, that’s not something to be laughing about. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

You cringed, uncomfortable with how true her words were.

“But I didn’t! Everything worked out.” You pointed out, attempting to brush it off as you shoved another bite of food into your mouth.

Unfortunately for you, Miyano wasn’t letting it slide.

Her frown deepened. “That’s not the point. It’s important to take care of your health. All aspects of it, not just physical. What if next time you do get hurt? What then?”

She fiddled with the sleeves of her tracksuit, guilt filling her expression.

“S-sorry, I’m not trying to lecture you. Y-you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but…”

You sighed, putting your chopsticks down and resting your head on your hands.

“No, you’re right.” Your voice was quieter now, barely above a mumble.

Players were trickling out from the cafeteria as they went to start their training. You simply watched.

“I did push myself too far.” You admitted. “But I wanna succeed, y’know? I want to move on with my team. They’ve really grown on me.”

Miyano’s serious expression softened, a small smile breaking through. “I understand how you feel.”

Her fingers twisted further into the hem of her sleeve.

“I-I guess I’m saying all this because I…I think of you as a f-friend.” Her voice grew weaker and she trailed off as a red tint dyed her face.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Miyano’s words were heartfelt, catching you off guard.

Your jaw dropped slightly.

She… thinks of me as a friend?

No matter how hard you tried, you had a difficult time making friends, especially after the incident. In fact, others sought you out to fight upon hearing of how you had easily beat the two boys. You wanted no part of it and were constantly running away, only resorting to fighting as a last resort.

The ongoing fights made it incredibly difficult to convince others to look beyond the past. It was a vicious cycle. You so desperately wanted to rid yourself of the past that followed you, but it backfired. They mocked your efforts and called you “too much”.

Ultimately, the labels and rumors clung to you like glue your entire first year of junior high.

It wasn’t until your second year of junior high that something changed. Hatano Kaori, a transfer student and new to the cheer squad, reached out to you. Somehow and some way, she had seen you for who you truly were.

When you asked, all she had said was –

“I saw how hard you were trying. Trying to be strong, to keep your head held up high, to stay positive. Seeing all of that, there’s no way the rumors could be true.”

Her words hit hard, so much that, embarrassingly, you had broken into tears right then and there. In a way she had saved you.

Your innate talent for cheerleading had snagged you a spot on the squad as a flyer. Soon, cheerleading became your escape. Something you could pour yourself into and let you be more than what others judged you to be.

The entire cheer squad quickly recognized your efforts and accepted you as one of their own. Over time, your image improved. Not just through your own actions, but through the unwavering support of the cheer squad.

They had never said it outright, nor had you ever seen it firsthand, but you had a strong gut feeling that they aggressively tracked down anyone who spoke badly of you. The number of people looking to fight you dwindled.

Obviously, not everything could be erased but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. With everyone’s support, you found the strength to grow and to fully embrace yourself.

Now, here in Blue Lock you had a clean slate. No one knew about what you had done or how you had lashed out. A fresh start, which was why you didn’t hesitate to go along with Matsukawa’s friendliness.

Still, it was hard to comprehend that a girl as sweet as Miyano was willingly seeking out your friendship.

True, she didn’t know what had happened before coming here, but somehow you felt it wouldn’t matter. That she would also understand, just like Kaori had.

“Y-you do?” The shock slowly subsided, though your voice still carried a note of uncertainty.

Miyano meekly nodded, only to jolt as if realizing something. “O-oh, but please don’t feel pressured to reciprocate! I c-completely understand if you don’t want to be friends.”

She waved her hands, frantically attempting to reassure you that it was okay to reject her offer of friendship.

Like I’d ever do that!!!

Again, you were completely flabbergasted. There wasn’t a single reason why you wouldn’t want to be friends with her.

“N-no, I do! I do want to be friends. We’re friends!” Your enthusiasm came out louder than intended and slightly awkward.

The two of you stared at each other, silence stretching between you until a light, airy giggle bubbled out your throat. Apparently, it was contagious because Miyano started giggling too, attempting to stifle it with the back of her hand, but failing miserably.

Soon, both of you were caught in a full blown laughing fit, gasping for breath between giggles. It was just so ridiculous how nervous you’d both been over something as simple as a budding friendship.

Eventually, the laughter faded away.

You tapped your fingers against the table. “Soooo, since we’re friends now, I have a small request.”

A cheeky grin spread across your face.

“I’d like you to call me Haru.”

Miyano blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

“Eh?”

“All my friends back home call me Haru.”

Miyano gulped, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. She fidgeted, reverting to messing with her sleeves. A telltale sign of her nervousness.

You sat patiently, waiting for her to speak.

She took a deep breath. “H-Haru, I’m happy we’re friends, s-so please c-call me Mayu.”

You were pleasantly surprised by her directness.

“Will do, Mayu!” You beamed, happy to oblige.

Suddenly, both your tablets dinged with a notification, cutting your conversation short. You hastily grabbed your tablets.

Managers, the rankings will update once more after the 5th and 6th matches.

Additionally, we will hold a meeting tonight at 6:30 PM in the Managers Lobby to clarify the advancement of the managers.

“Well it’s about time.” you mused aloud, setting your tablet down.

You had been dead set on climbing the ranks, especially as it remained unclear how many managers would advance.

You were sure the others had been doing the same.

Mayu’s eyes shone with determination. “Let’s work hard so we can move forward together with our teams.”

Her conviction lit a fire in you, and you threw a fist in the air.

“Yeah!” Adrenaline surged through you, fueling your renewed resolve.

We’ll eventually face each other, but that’s for another day. For now, we’ll keep working hard.

Reinvigorated, you and Mayu parted ways, heading off to your respective teams. You entered the machine room, ready to kick off training only to be swarmed.

“Ishika-chan, are you okay?”

“We heard you passed out!”

“Is the nurse cute?!”

Each question was rapidly fired, leaving you no time to answer or think. You had to put a stop to it, for your own sanity.

Throwing your hands up, you lightly pushed away the flurry of bodies. “One question at a time!”

Mercifully, Kunigami and Kuon came to your rescue.

“Everyone, give her space!” Kuon shouted, while Kunigami positioned himself as a barrier, shielding you from the others.

Kunigami leaned in, voice low. “You okay?”

You nodded, offering a small thank you to both your saviors. The others stepped back, guilt flickering across their expressions.

Once you had room to breathe, Kunigami stepped aside, leaving you in the spotlight.

Iemon’s brows furrowed, looking deeply concerned about you. “Ishikawa, can you tell us what happened?”

Better to be honest than downplaying it like earlier.

You exhaled, swaying on your heels.

“Yeah, so uh… last night, Isagi and Chigiri found me passed out in the hallway, so they took me to the infirmary.”

The energy in the room shifted as worried glances were exchanged.

“Settsu said my condition came from high stress and exhaustion, so I need to watch that, but I’m good to go now!”

You tried to sound confident and relaxed, but the silence indicated you were less than successful. The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the quiet room.

You shuffled in place, waiting for someone to break the silence.

Finally, Gagamaru spoke.

“…Who’s Settsu?”

The others stared at him in disbelief.

Thank you Gagamaru for your aloofness!

“She’s the err…” You paused, searching for the exact term Settsu had used. Then you snapped your fingers. “She’s the patient care technician in charge of our wing!”

Imamura visibly deflated. “So… it’s not a nurse?”

More stares, this time aimed at Imamura.

You shook your head.

“Nope. She’s around our age.”

Imamura perked up at that, causing him to get a scolding from Kuon.

For the next ten minutes, you focused on answering their questions. You would’ve preferred jumping straight into training, but their unease was understandable.

“Yeah, I’m not concussed or anything. Just need to take it easier.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still perfectly capable of being your manager!

“Settsu’s pretty cute. No, I will not take you there for fun, so don’t even think about asking.”

Their questions tapered off and you sent them to complete their individualized training regimes. By now, everyone knew the schedule well enough to manage a day on their own, so they ordered you to take it easy. Especially Bachira, who insisted you rest on one of the benches.

Humming to yourself, you started the next daily report, intent on finishing it early. As you reviewed the metrics dashboard, your brows knitted together.

Chigiri’s stats aren’t improving. No, they’re plateauing.

Glancing up, you spotted the pink-haired striker stretching on one of the mats. Chigiri was ranked 267th, one of Team Z’s supposed stronger players. He should be showing some progress, even if it wasn’t translating into goals.

Hell, even Igaguri is improving at a faster rate than him.

You bounced your knee restlessly, deliberating your next step.

Oh screw it. I don’t have time to sit around and wait. Gotta grab the goat by it’s horns… or however it goes.

Standing up, you strode across the room. Bachira stared at you, but you ignored him and grabbed a mat for yourself. You set it down beside Chigiri’s.

He raised an eyebrow.

"It hasn’t even been thirty minutes, and you’re already going against our wishes." He said amused.

You shrugged. “My duties as a manager come first. Besides, Settsu recommended stretching daily to relax my body.”

Chigiri gave in, nodding to someone beyond your view. Settling into a comfortable silence, you joined in on the stretches. Content you weren’t overexerting yourself, the others didn’t say anything, but Bachira did peek at you in between his exercises.

Midway through a butterfly stretch, you decided to address the elephant in the room.

After checking to make sure no one else was within earshot, you cleared your throat. "Actually, I wanted to talk about reworking your training regime."

Chigiri continued his seated hamstring stretch. “Why?”

Switching to a behind the head triceps stretch, you kept your tone steady. "Well, I noticed a lack of improvement in your data."

You continued, oblivious to the way he stiffened. "There’s still time to adjust, especially with two matches left, so don’t worry! All we ne–"

"No." He cut you off, an undercurrent of anger in his words. "Just focus on yourself."

He just needs a little push.

Undeterred, you pressed on. "No can do! I’m your manager, Chigiri. It’s my responsibility to care, remember?"

"Not you too..." he muttered, a scowl overtaking his face.

…Too?

“If I need help, I’ll ask. Otherwise, don’t bother.” He rose and stalked off to the training machines.

What the hell just happened?

You sat there, stunned. It was the first time you’d seen that look on his face. Directed at you, no less.

You stood and returned the mats, feigning indifference to what had just transpired. Settling onto the bench, you stared at your tablet. The words were blurring. You couldn’t concentrate.

…Looks like I did too much. Like always.

Your feelings started coiling around you, threatening to overwhelm you.

No, snap out of it! What happened to all that resolve from earlier?!

Self-pity wouldn’t get you anywhere. You would just have to find another way to convince Chigiri.

You huffed, pushing aside the doubt.

Focus.

You’re better than this.

By the end of the day’s training sessions, one thing was clear.

Chigiri’s holding back.

You wanted to scream for not noticing sooner, but beating yourself up wouldn’t help. Looking back, he’d always given enough effort to avoid suspicion, but never truly pushed his limits.

Why though?

Frustrated, you shoved a chunk of salad into your mouth.

Why come here only to hold back? It makes no sense!

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand.

At least I can go to bed early for once.

Your daily report was done, and the team had practically demanded you rest tonight, especially after your little stunt earlier. Kuon had assured you he could handle leading the team meeting, and after some reluctance, you’d agreed.

Secretly, you were grateful for the extra downtime.

With your meal finished, you cleared your plates and waited by the water cooler. You and Mayu had planned to meet up and walk to the meeting together during lunch.

And right on cue, Mayu jogged up to you. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion.

"Sorry, practice ran late." She said, smoothing down her tracksuit.

“No problem!”

The two of you walked down the hallway to the Managers Lobby, chatting about your day while steering clear of any taboo topics.

Stopping just shy of the motion sensors, you turned to Mayu.

"Nervous?"

She hummed in thought. "A little, but not terribly so. I feel better going in with you."

You softly chuckled. "Me too."

Letting out a small sigh, you rolled your shoulders. "Well, no use delaying the inevitable."

You stepped forward, and the doors slid open.

Inside, the other three managers awaited. Onoda looked tense given her rigid posture. Tanaka wore her usual smug expression.

Then there was Matsukawa.

Your eyes met and she smiled. It was an empty, calculated one. Devoid of the warmth from the first day. Your heart sank as your suspicions were confirmed.

I can’t trust her.

You looked away.

"How long is this going to take?" Onoda hissed, irritation spilling into her voice. "I have better things to do than sit here twiddling my thumbs."

"Like what?" Tanaka’s tone was gleefully cruel. "Your team has already passed the threshold for losses. The only option left is accepting defeat."

"So mean ~ It’s not Ono’s fault her team is weak!" Matsukawa cried out, her words carrying a hint of mockery.

Onoda bristled, anger rising.

You and Mayu stayed silent, pretending to be invisible as the verbal daggers flew.

Then, the screens flickered to life.

Ego sat there, slurping a bowl of yakisoba. "Enough with the bickering. It's tiring."

Tell me about it.

Pushing up his glasses, he continued. "Anri-chan has informed me that the managers require further clarification on their advancement."

Onoda muttered something under her breath.

No doubt an insult.

"As announced earlier, rankings will be updated once the next two matches are completed. This will be the last update before the final matches."

Ego set down his yakisoba. His full attention finally on the group. You leaned back against the wall, bracing yourself for whatever revelation was coming.

"Based on the final rankings, the top three managers will advance."

You toyed with your bracelet as you recalled the latest standings.

One more spot. Just one more, and I move on.

A burst of alarm came from Onoda. "What about our exams?! How many do we have left?"

Ego barely spared her a glance. "Three, including the one tomorrow."

Tanaka snickered as Onoda’s panic visibly grew.

"There's plenty of time for any of you to rise or fall in the rankings, so I wouldn’t get comfortable." Ego stated, eyes boring into you all.

True. One small mistake and any of us could sink to the bottom.

He yawned, already bored. “That’s all. Now, get to work.”

With those final words, the screens went black.

Chapter Text

Test-taking had never been one of your strengths, so you were incredibly grateful for Mayu’s help. Unfortunately, despite being a far better student than you, even she couldn’t work miracles.

"So… is it just me, or was that exam extra brutal?"

Yesterday’s exam covered management theories, strategies, and application-based approaches. The two of you had crammed the morning of, hyper-aware of the rankings after Ego’s announcement.

Now, the day after, you sat together at breakfast.

Mayu sighed, brows slightly downturned. "No, I agree. It focused much more on Hofstede’s dimensions than I expected."

You picked at your food, not in the mood to eat. "I got tripped up on the components of expectancy theory."

If this is what causes me to be eliminated, I think I’ll explode.

Sadly, there was no rest for the weary.

“Our next exam covers public relations, marketing, and international business.” Mayu said, reviewing the email detailing the next exam.

You let out a sarcastic cheer.

If only I could stop time…

Ever since you’d passed out, Team Z had been relentless about making sure you properly rested. What they didn’t understand was that there was no time to rest!

Every day was incredibly packed with training, studying, and daily managerial duties, but one issue after another kept piling on.

Chigiri still refused to discuss adjusting his training regime, shutting down the conversation every time you tried bringing it up. You were thinking of enforcing a regulation about manager directives to force him to listen. The risk of it backfiring was way too high though.

And then there was Isagi.

You’d noticed some tension between him and Chigiri. Since you were already having trouble with Chigiri, you figured your best shot at finding out what happened was through Isagi.

As soon as you asked him though, he clammed up. You poked and prodded, trying to get something, anything, out of him, but he didn’t budge.

Part of you was tempted to pull him by his sprout till he talked, but you resisted the urge.

Barely.

The one thing working in your favor was your medical check-up results. As Settsu had predicted, nothing was wrong with you. Satisfied, she sent you on your way but encouraged you to reach out if you ever felt sick.

At least, I’m all better.

Currently, you were refilling the team’s water bottles in the hallway. The sound of drills echoed from the training field.

Supposedly, you would be receiving the latest match results today.

Which also means an update on the rankings.

With the last water bottle filled, you headed back to practice. Inside, the others were practicing their formations. You watched Isagi take a shot…and miss.

“You missed, so time to switch, Isagi!” Igaguri yelled.

“Wow, you suck! Ha!” Raichi cackled. “Guess that goal in the game was a fluke!”

Kuon quickly redirected everyone to keep moving.

You made your way over to Isagi, who sat against the wall, panting.

“Taking a break?” You asked, handing him a water bottle. He took it gratefully, and started chugging like his life depended on it.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he wiped his mouth. Tiny beads of water trickled down his chin.

“Yeah. I get tired so fast.” He glanced at the rest of Team, a glint of envy in his eyes.

“Obviously. With the amount of training you guys do, I’m surprised no one else has passed out.” You were somewhat joking.

Plenty of vomiting though, especially from Igaguri.

He chuckled dryly. “I guess.”

Isagi fiddled with his water bottle, hesitation written across his face. You gave him a small nod, prompting him to continue.

He took another sip of water and then exhaled. “I’m just holding the others back during practice. Everyone’s so much better than me.”

Frustrated, he rubbed his head. “I can’t keep going like this…”

You disagreed. Isagi was crucial to the team’s success, whether he knew it or not. Not only had he scored the game-winning goal last match, but he also understood the key players of each match.

He was invaluable.

Can’t tell him that though or he’ll get flustered.

You sat down beside him, shoulders brushing against each other.

“To be honest, I don't think that's true, but I get it. Being near the bottom of the rankings makes you want to work harder. As your manager, I’ll help you however I can.”

You met his gaze and smiled.

“That said, I’ll check out your data and training regime to see if there’s any areas we can tweak. We’ll start the new regime tomorrow.”

Isagi nodded, eyes lit with renewed determination. “Let’s do it. I don’t want this to end with just a single fluke.

He stood up, offering you a hand.

You took it and dusted yourself off.

Are all athletes' hands this rough?

Suddenly, the screen came to life.

“Howdy, you lumps of talent.”

Everyone stopped moving, paying full attention to Ego casually slurping down a bowl of yakisoba.

“Is that all he eats?” You whispered to Isagi.

“I don’t know, but it looks really good.” His stomach growled.

Looks like he’s not the only one.

Gagamaru, Naruhaya, and Igaguri were all drooling over the noodle dish.

Still munching on his food, Ego dropped a major bombshell. “The sixth match just finished.”

The latest results flashed across the screen.

Match 5 was Team V vs Team W. Team V easily won 5 - 1.

Match 6 was Team X vs Team Y. Surprisingly, Team Y won 4 - 3.

You grabbed your tablet from the supply cart and jotted down the scores. Midway through, a notification pinged on your tablet.

“As for you, Ishikawa, you should have just received an email containing the updated rankings for the managers.”

You nodded and opened the message.

#21: Miyano Mayu

#22: Matsukawa Ayaka

#23: Tanaka Izumi

#24: Ishikawa Miharu

#25: Onoda Yui

No way…

You hadn’t moved a single spot.

But why? I’ve been working so hard…

Dismayed, you closed the email, not noticing Isagi watching your dejected expression.

“As mentioned, this will be your last update before the final rankings.”

You swallowed hard.

…I can still move up.

I have time.

Ego quickly shifted focus to the players, paying no more attention to you than necessary. "Now, here’s the spice."

Oh god, what now?

“I’m changing up the ranking system which up until now, has been based on your test scores and gameplay. As strikers, you must prove your own worth with goals.”

A chorus of beeps rang throughout the room. One by one, each of the player’s ranking patches updated.

“Therefore, those who score more valuable goals will be ranked higher.”

You watched in amazement, and slight jealousy, as Isagi’s rank shot up to #265.

"So, Team Z’s current top player is you, Isagi Yoichi."

A mix of awe and disbelief flickered across his face as he gingerly touched his ranking patch like he was testing whether it was real or not.

Reactions varied from frustration, pride, disbelief, and panic. Normally, you’d be more entertained, but having just experienced the same thing ruined it.

Ego had a crazy look in his eyes. “Your next step is figuring out how to best polish that weapon and make it stand out.”

By now, you had a decent grasp of Ego’s carrot and stick method.

More like stick-and-stick, the way he goes about it, but whatever.

As expected, he launched into a breakdown of the next step in developing as an egoist.

“Your weapons can turn ‘zero’ into ‘one’, so figure out what to multiply it by to make it even stronger. Find the plays only you can make. Stand out.“

Although the speech was directed at the players, you couldn’t help but feel slightly more motivated than before.

Stand out, huh?

“Talent is just a lump of ore and if you don’t smelt it and polish it, it’s nothing but trash.”

Ego disappeared, leaving behind his cryptic advice. Replacing him was a timer counting down the next 24 hours until your next match against Team W.

You playfully bumped Isagi’s shoulder.

He jumped a little, staring at you in surprise.

“Congratulations.” You giggled, before heading toward the others on the field.

“We’ll meet in the monitoring room to review Team W’s matches in twenty minutes!” You called out, tossing them water bottles as they left.

Now, time to get everything set up.

Just as you were about to leave, Isagi’s voice stopped you.

“Ishikawa, I figured it out!”

He jogged over, enthusiasm lighting up his face.

“Figured what out?” You asked, confused.

Unable to contain his excitement, Isagi’s hands restlessly waved around as he explained his idea. “My training needs to focus on endurance. My weapon is useless if I’m too worn out to respond when it counts.”

You slowly nodded, starting to understand where this was heading. "Right…but to improve your endurance, you’ll need to train longer than everyone else. Are you up for that?"

Isagi grinned. “I’m game if you are.”

How he’s not already exhausted is beyond me.

Your answer came in the form of a fond shake of your head as you went to set up a few cone drills. Picking up your tablet, you watched as Isagi sprinted toward the far end of the field.

All of a sudden, a streak of orange shot past you.

Kunigami?

A second later, Bachira appeared, catching up to Isagi with the rest of Team Z following suit.

They’re all monsters.

Still, you were incredibly proud of them for working so hard. Your eyes followed Isagi, sweat glistening on his forehead.

He passed them all in one fell swoop. No wonder they’re chasing him.

Still, something bothered you.

Someone’s missing.

Scanning the room, you turned toward the exit. There stood Chigiri, watching the others on the field.

Almost longingly.

He must’ve noticed your staring because he quickly left.

Try as you might Chigiri, you can’t avoid me forever.

Turning your attention back to the field, you saw a familiar spark of egoism in Isagi’s eyes.

You found yourself wondering if all egoists were this captivating or if it was just Isagi.

“Without a doubt, Team W’s key players are the Wanima twins.” You declared, pointing at the screen.

Also known as the weird eyebrow brothers.

Team Z sat in the monitoring room, watching footage of the twin’s previous goals.

“Their weapon is combination plays. Bad news is it can’t be easily defended against because of their closeness and timing. Good news is it also means they can’t use it individually.”

Theoretically at least.

“What we need to do is separate them. If we can do that, we have a much better chance of winning!”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not even on the field.” Raichi muttered.

You smirked. "That just shows how confident I am in you guys."

“Hehe, we trust you too, Ishika-chan ~” Bachira laughed, staring up at you from his chair.

“Speak for yourself. Where’s your little minion, anyways?” Raichi snarked.

Not this again.

Kuon had unofficially been appointed as your assistant since he constantly helped you explain strategies to the others. Iemon was your other unofficial assistant.

Unfortunately for them, Raichi had dubbed them your minions.

“Kuon still hasn’t come back from the bath…and we told you to stop calling us that.” Iemon grumbled.

You shot him a sympathetic glance.

First, he’s stuck being goalie, and now this. Poor guy.

“He sure takes long baths, though.” Igaguri noted, glancing at the door.

“Think he passed out and drowned?” Imamura joked.

A mental image of a chibi Kuon floating like a dead goldfish popped into your head.

You frowned. “Don’t say that!”

The door slid open.

Speak of the devil.

Kuon entered, his face flushed red and steam still rising off of him. He apologized for being late as he'd lost track of time whilst brainstorming a strategy name.

Igaguri and Imamura cracked up at his explanation.

You handed him a cup of water from the cooler. "Don’t overheat."

He thanked you and quickly downed the water. Isagi filled him in on what he missed, which wasn’t much.

Clearing your throat, you got everyone back on track. “Last match, we wasted too much time switching formations every ten minutes. This time, we’ll be changing formations every thirty minutes and group players in sets of three based on their weapons compatibility.”

The others were already aware of the plan, but a refresher never hurt.

“Not only is this more efficient, but it increases each group’s chances of scoring.”

“Based on that, its name is Operation: 3x3 All Stars!!!” Kuon announced, clearly psyched.

The same two from earlier immediately started ribbing him about his terrible naming sense.

I don’t think it’s that bad…

Wait, does that mean I’m also bad at naming things?

Lost in thought, you failed to notice the awkward exchange between Chigiri and Isagi. Kuon’s voice snapped you out of it.

“We’ve studied the other team and we have our plan! Let’s win this Team Z!!”

Excitement surged through the room as you all cheered.

We’ll win this for sure!

At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

Despite your display of confidence, on the day of the match, you were more nervous than ever.

Part of it was the fact that everyone’s soccer career depended on the outcome of this match. The other part?

The Wanima brothers.

Everything about them intimidated you. Their strength, their plays, and their intense gazes. Not to mention, you would be going against Matsukawa.

Trying to relax, your mind wandered to more mundane things.

Namely, the shape of the Wanima twin’s eyebrows.

Would it be bad if I asked them if they pluck or if it's all-natural?

Chasing away the ridiculous thought, you reached for your accessory bag.

Let’s see, which one should I wear today?

Your hand settled on a red gingham ribbon. Red wasn’t one of your go-to colors, but you felt it fit the occasion.

It’s the color of passion after all.

You tied your hair into a half-up, half-down style with the ribbon while repeating your motto under your breath.

“Look good, feel good, do good.”

Now, the final touch.

Your bracelet shined brightly as you clasped it onto your wrist. Grabbing your things, you set off for Team Z’s locker room.

What awaited you wasn’t a room full of nerves or excitement. No, it was something entirely different.

“Ya gotta have bread in the morning!” Imamura shouted, and the declaration was met with enthusiastic cheers from Igaguri, Chigiri, Raichi, and Isagi.

"Nah, man, rice for the win!" Bachira pouted, backed by Iemon, Naruhaya, Gagamaru, and Kunigami.

What the hell did I just walk into?

Sensing your confusion, Kuon leaned in. “It’s best if you stay quiet and let them work it out. Last time, they nearly killed me for mentioning cornflakes.”

So they’ve argued about this before?

You nodded, pressing yourself against the wall, hoping to stay out of the crossfire.

No such luck.

Instantly, the entire group swarmed you, demanding to know your preference.

“Hey, bread is the superior option for breakfast, right?!” Raichi shoved past the others to glare at you.

"Ishika-chan, don’t let him pressure you!" Bachira’s head poked through the tangle of bodies. "It’s gotta be rice!"

Imamura nearly fell over from all the shoving. "W-well, which is it?! I know a cutie like you will make the right choice!"

You rocked back and forth, thinking over your usual breakfast back home.

“Do pastries count as bread?”

The three guys in front of you went silent before bursting into a mix of yells.

“No! Are you kidding me?!”

“Pastries definitely count as bread!”

“Ishika-chan, pastries are too sweet for breakfast!”

You gave a sheepish smile. “I can’t help it. They’re so tasty! Think about it. A blueberry muffin, a chocolate croissant, or an apple turnover…”

A dreamy sigh escaped your lips.

Or a donut…or a bagel…or a palmier…

“Ishikawa, you’re drooling.” Kunigami said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Your eyes widened. Quickly, you wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve. The others laughed as your cheeks turned pink.

I thought I could trust you, Kunigami!

Trying to shake off the embarrassment, you cleared your throat. "A-anyway, let’s get out onto the field early and start our stretches."

Whilst being forced to rest, you’d compiled training videos demonstrating proper form and a variety of stretches. Fortunately, Team Z went along with it, and you’d noticed fewer complaints about cramps and soreness.

You urged everyone out of the room and onto the field, pushing the supply cart as you went.

Joining them in the stretches, you moved through each one to guide them in maintaining the correct form.

"Uurgh, how are you so flexible?!" Igaguri groaned, struggling with a dead pigeon stretch. His legs trembled as he attempted to hold the position.

"Years of cheerleading!" You replied, getting up to go help him.

"You’re pushing too far past your comfort level. It should feel like a slight tightness, but not painful. Ease up a little, and we’ll work on increasing your limits later."

You adjusted his posture, watching relief settle onto his face.

Scanning the group, you called out. "That goes for all of you. These stretches are meant to help, not hurt."

A chorus of yesses rang out.

Finished stretching, everyone got on their feet just in time as Team W walked in. Matsukawa led the charge with the Wanima twins flanking her like bodyguards.

Spotting you, the girl excitedly ran over.

A shiver went down your spine.

“Ishi ~ it feels like forever since we’ve talked!” She grinned, circling you like a cat playing with its prey.

Your stomach twisted into knots.

“Aren’t you excited? We finally get to play against each other!”

You pressed your lips into a tight line. "Mmm."

She tilted her head, examining your team. "Ehh? Where’s Kira?" Her eyebrows were pulled tight into a feigned confused expression, but her lips twitched threatening to form a smile.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

"He’s been eliminated. Haven’t you watched any of our matches?" Annoyance slipped into your voice. You’d rather she drop the act instead of dragging it out.

"That’s too bad! I was looking forward to meeting him." She pouted, completely ignoring your question.

“Matsukawa, that’s enough.” You stared at her impassively, refusing to play along with her antics.

At the call of her name, she straightened and met your gaze.

"Let’s not delay the match any longer."

She giggled, undeterred by your lack of reaction. "Why so formal, Ishi? Are you that eager to lose?"

Ignoring the taunt, you walked back to your bench. She could say whatever she wanted to, but you wouldn’t fall for the bait.

You signaled for Team Z to gather around. They had definitely overhead bits and pieces of your conversation with Matsukawa, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

"Listen up, everyone. No matter what, we cannot lose this match. Not only for the sake of your future but for my pride. Am I clear?" You announced, determined to shove your win in Matsukawa’s face.

“Pfft. As if we planned on losing in the first place.”

“Geez Raichi, let our manager blow off some steam.” Imamura groaned.

The others laughed and started throwing jabs at Raichi who got more and more riled up. You chuckled, amused by the sight.

That’s right. I just need to trust in them to pull this out.

Taking a seat, you sent the team to their positions. You cracked your hands and prepared to start documenting the match.

Let’s do this, Team Z.

The whistle blew and it was time for kick-off.

As expected, the Wanima twins’ had an insane knack for combination plays. What you didn’t expect was for them to easily break through your defense.

They immediately rushed forward taking an aggressive approach. You watched as Kuon, Gagamaru, and Kunigami got left in the dust as the two brothers slipped past them.

Don’t tell me they have some sort of twin telepathy!

As ridiculous as it sounded, you were starting to believe it. The more you watched, the more you realized how big of a problem the bond between the twins would be. A split second of eye contact was all it took for them to perfectly sync up.

Sprinting past the defense, they reached Isagi and Chigiri, who were the first formation’s center backs. Passing Chigiri, the twins spat out something at him with a cruel grin on their faces.

Too far away to hear, all you had to go off of was the terrified expression on Chigiri’s face.Before you could think about it any further, Isagi stole the ball and sent a pass flying to Imamura.

Everything fell into place from there. A chain of events slowly unfolded resulting in a header goal from Kuon.

Amazingly, he didn’t stop there. Within the first half of the match, Kuon had scored three goals. The older Wanima brother's face warped into one of frustration, veins popping out in anger. The younger gaped at Kuon.

Hehe, take that Matsukawa!

You snuck a glance across the field, secretly eager to see the look on her face.

Huh?

There was no sign of panic, anger, or disappointment. No… there was nothing. The girl looked calm, even bored as she filed her nails.

Matsukawa was completely uninterested in what was happening.

You frowned.

Is she that confident in her ranking? Or does she just not care?

The locker room buzzed with energy. Everyone was celebrating Kuon’s hat trick, excited at potentially scoring the next goal.

You found yourself unable to fully enjoy it, still stuck on thinking what the look on Matsukawa’s face could mean.

Maybe, I’m overthinking this.

“We’re crazy strong guys!”

“Let’s keep it going!”

The excitement in the room kept growing. Things rarely worked out this well for Team Z, so it was definitely an exhilarating feeling.

Am I wrong for thinking this too good to be true?

“Ishika-chan, is something wrong?”

Bachira's concerned voice broke through the noise. He sat next to you, peering at you through his bangs.

Carefully, he brushed the hair from your face, and touched your forehead, then his, checking for temperature.

“Not too warm, not too cold! Bachira cheerfully said.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" Isagi asked, visibly worried.

You rapidly shook your hands. "No, nothing like that! It’s just…" You trailed off, unsure of how to explain the foreboding feeling you had.

I don’t wanna spook them, but…

"...Just be careful in the second half. I don’t want us getting overconfident and making simple mistakes, y’know?"

The team nodded, but Raichi, of course, had something to say.

"Wow, way to kill the mood."

"Says the mood killer himself!" Naruhaya shot back, laughing.

Half-heartedly, you laughed along, attempting to ignore the growing unease in your stomach.

Turns out, that was an awful idea. Things had gone completely south as soon as the second half of the match started.

Sighing, you could only watch as Team W racked up another goal. The momentum from earlier was gone, especially with Kuon’s decline in performance.

He had done a complete 180 from the first half, fumbling plays, letting mistakes pile up, and practically handing the twins two easy goals.

“What are you doing?! Kuon?!!” Raichi screamed, storming towards him.

“Kunigami, hold him back!” You shouted, preparing to intervene if necessary.

Before you could move, Kuon fell to his knees and lowered his head to the ground.

“This match is so important… I’m sorry!!!”

Raichi sneered, unmoved, but the others urged Kuon to rise. He apologized again, voice unsteady, and shakily stood up.

You jotted down a note to have a conversation with him after the match.

The sudden change in his performance could be an indicator of a bigger issue.

Glancing up at him, the unease from earlier turned into dread.

Why is Kuon…smiling?

You glanced around, searching for confirmation that someone else had seen it. The only other person staring at Kuon was Isagi, but even he looked uncertain. Like he didn’t quite believe what he’d just witnessed.

With thirty minutes left in the match, the formation shifted one final time.

Okay, no need to panic! This is undoubtedly our strongest formation yet.

The formation consisted of Isagi linking with Kunigami and Bachira. Combined, their weapons could break through the defense on either side.

We should be able to snag at least one more point!

By now, you should’ve known better than to expect things to go your way.

Every attack was shut down. No matter which direction they went, Team W was waiting to block, intercept, or press.

It’s like they know…but how?

Deep down, you knew the answer. Still you refused to accept it.

The older Wanima stole the ball from Isagi and launched it toward his twin.

You watched, hoping for Kuon to prove your instincts wrong.

For him to deflect the ball soaring over your area.

For him to be on Team Z’s side.

Your hopes were dashed as Kuon missed the ball.

On purpose.

Team W scores.

3-3.

“Kuon, you’re betraying Team Z…aren’t you?” Isagi stood in front of Kuon, distrust written clearly on his face.

You didn’t want to believe it, but all signs pointed toward Kuon being a traitor. The longer you stared at Kuon’s dumbfounded face, the faster your disbelief turned into anger.

“That’s right!” The Wanima twins butted in and gleefully explained the entirety of Kuon’s betrayal.

…All of our strategies, weapons, and weaknesses? He told them everything?!

You rose from the bench, striding toward the traitors and cheaters. “That’s confidential information! You’re blatantly breaking one of the rules!”

Matsukawa sauntered over, voice dripping with slyness. “No, it’s not~ That rule only applies to managers, not players. This whole scheme was Kuon’s idea!”

A hysterical laugh threatened to escape your throat from the absurdity of the situation. Instead, you held it back and hardened your glare.

“So, you knew and did nothing.”

She grinned. “Exactly! I did nothing, so I’m in the clear. You should be mad at Kuon, not me!”

“Trust me.” You hissed, no longer able to hold back. “I have enough anger for him, you, and your shitty team.”

Matsukawa rolled her eyes.

The situation further spiraled when Raichi grabbed Kuon by the collar, fist raised. You moved to intervene, but before you could –

“Raichi Jingo, yellow card! Return to your side and resume the match.”

VAR’s voice rang out, forcing everyone back to their respective spots.

There has to be something I can do…

The team remained frozen, struggling to process Kuon’s betrayal. He used the hesitation to his advantage, casually passing the ball to Team W.

“From now on, we’ll be playing 12 on 10.”

Your mind raced.

What can I do? What can I do?!

You scan your surroundings, eyes landing on the supply cart.

The whistle!

You grabbed it from the supply cart and blew hard, the shrill sound cutting through the field.

“VAR, as Team Z’s manager, I request to bench Kuon Wataru for the remainder of the match!”

This wasn’t standard procedure, but under these circumstances, it was all you had. You waited with bated breath for VAR’s response.

“Request granted.”

Exhaling sharply, you shot Kuon a glare, silently demanding his exit. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. The match resumed.

You sat stiffly beside the traitor, your blood boiling as Team Z scrambled to hold their ground. It took everything in you not to tear into him.

“With or without me, Team W is winning this match.” Kuon said matter of factly.

Whatever comeback you had died in your throat as the Wanima brothers scored another point.

4-3.

“Team Z’s last match in the rot–”

Shut. up. Shut up. Shut up!

“I don’t give a shit.” If looks could kill, yours would put him six feet under. “Whatever excuse you’ve got, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Your heart nearly stopped when Iemon blocked a shot from the Wanima twins. Kuon’s expression twisted into an unsettling smirk.

“Well, thank you anyways, Isihikawa. I’m glad you and the rest of the team were so stupid. This is Blue Lock, rem–”

“The stupid one is you.” You cut him off coldly, refusing to listen. “Even if you manage to weasel into the next selection, do you think anyone will trust you? Do you think anyone will work with you? All you did here was doom yourself, you idiot..”

Kuon fell silent.

Frustrated, you watched as the ball reached Chigiri only to be snatched by Team W.

The clock continued ticking down.

Only five minutes left. That’s not enough!

Isagi had the ball, but there was nothing he could do. Every single path to the goal was blocked.

Three additional minutes flashed onto the scoreboard, but it meant nothing unless Team Z could break through Team W’s defense.

Then, like a beacon of hope comes Isagi.

Against all odds, he keeps the team alive, losing possession but stealing it back in the same minute.

“Move it!!!” Isagi shoved past Chigiri and bolted forward.

A small gasp escapes you. This was a side of Isagi you hadn’t seen before. Gulping, you turn to check if Chigiri’s okay, only for goosebumps to run up your arms and neck.

A spark ignited in his gaze, reminiscent of the one you’d seen in Isagi.

Egoism.

At the very edge of the touchline, Isagi barely kept the ball in play. At the same time, Chigir lets out a shuddering breath, bracing himself to let loose.

You don’t hesitate. “Go for it, Chigiri!”

Meeting your gaze, he gives you a wild grin before bursting forward in a mad sprint. In that moment, his self-imposed restrictions shattered.

He’s easily in a league of his own.

You were completely enraptured with Chigiri’s display of athletic prowess.

No, that wasn’t right.

What captivated you was the pure look of egoism on his face.

Egoism is amazing…

In awe, you watched as Chigiri outmaneuvered the twins and goalie to score a beautiful, final goal.

4-4!

Chigiri leaped into the air and let out a triumphant shout. You shouted in celebration, blood pumping with adrenaline. At that moment, nothing else existed except for the feeling of pure, unfiltered elation.

And the look of absolute horror on Matsukawa’s face only made it sweeter.

You beamed, heart singing with joy.

Chapter Text

Winning isn’t everything.

That’s what some of the coaches at your school used to say after their teams lost a game. Tearfully, the players would nod and promise to do better next time.

You could only stand by and watch, hoping the cheer squad’s presence would provide some form of comfort.

Back then, you truly believed the coach’s words, that pure passion and dedication could soothe the sting of losing.

That trying your best was enough.

Being Team Z’s manager changed that.

Watching them claw their way through Blue Lock’s madness, fighting tooth and nail to survive, stirred something in you.

You couldn’t quite name it, but you knew you wanted to keep fighting alongside them.

To see them advance.

To rise above the other teams and managers.

To help lead Japan onto the worldwide stage of soccer.

If I didn’t know any better… I’d say Ego’s words are starting to get to me.

Jumping up and down, you cheered with unrestrained happiness for Chigiri’s last-minute goal. Everyone crowded around him, yelling with excitement.

To your amusement, the pink-haired striker appeared slightly flustered.

You were just about to run over and celebrate with the team when something caught your eye.

Team W was rushing in your direction.

No, not me…

Kuon!

“What the hell Kuon?! Are you kidding me?!”

“You said you’d make us win! That was the deal!!”

“You kept Chigiri’s legs a secret on purpose, didn’t you?!”

Team W’s faces burned with anger as they stormed toward you and Kuon. Behind you, Kuon sputtered, trying to defend himself, but his words only made them angrier.

Watching Team W stalk towards you, you made a decision.

No matter how pissed I am at that traitor, I can’t just let him get beat up.

You took a deep breath and moved in front of Kuon.

The younger Wanima growled, veins popping on his forehead. “Out of the way!”

“Hiding behind your manager, Kuon?!” Team W’s #6 sneered.

You grimaced but planted your feet and acted as a barrier between Team W and Kuon.

“I’d back off if I were you unless you want to get in trouble for player-on-player violence!”

The group paused, scowling as they stared at you.

You held your ground. “I suggest you take this loss and move on.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Team Z approaching.

Thank god. These guys look like they’re ready to kill me!

The Wanima twins clenched their jaws but held their tongues. Uneasy glances flicked between the members of Team W, unsure about what to do.

You stayed firm, refusing to move.

Reluctantly, the Wanima twins moved back, fists opening and closing at their sides. Some of the tension in your shoulders eased.

That was your first mistake.

The second was checking to see if Kuon was okay. That brief distraction was all it took for someone to make a move.

“Screw this!”

You whipped your head around just in time to see #6 charging at you.

Oh shi–!

You barely managed to brace yourself before his shoulder collided with you.

“Ah!”

The impact sent you stumbling backward, landing hard on your ass. Trying to stand, you winced as pain flared in your ankle.

And then you saw #6’s fist crashing into Kuon’s face.

Before you could react, Team Z ran in, forced player #6 off Kuon, and held the others back. Kunigami’s expression was furious as his grip locked around #6’s arm.

“Ishikawa, are you okay?!” Isagi dropped down beside you, checking all over for any injuries.

“Umm…my ankle hurts a little, but I’ll be fine!” You insisted, forcing a smile.

Given how Isagi’s brows furrowed into a frown, it didn’t work.

“Here!” Bachira appeared beside you, pressing an ice pack to your ankle. His usual cheeky grin was nowhere to be found.

You exhaled in relief at the cool touch.

“Good thing, I stocked up the supply cart, right?” You jokingly said in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

No one laughed.

Geez, tough crowd.

“Ah, he ran away!”

Taking advantage of the situation, Kuon escaped out the door.

“Wait, come back!” You yelled after him, attempting to get up, but being forced to sit by Bachira. He merely shook his head, eyes pointing to your ankle.

You sighed and nodded, reluctantly staying on the ground.

Then the scoreboard screen flickered switching to a live feed.

Anri stood front in center, arms crossed, and seeming incredibly displeased. Ego lingered beside her, unusually silent.

Oh, this can’t be good.

“Let me make something clear.” She said coldly. “Soccer is a contact sport, but that does not excuse unnecessary violence. Here in Blue Lock, we expect a certain level of conduct from our players.”

Her frown deepened.

“As Ms. Ishikawa correctly stated, violence is not tolerated. And may I remind everyone, managers are not players. Per regulation, any violence involving a manager, from or to, results in immediate disqualification.”

The field went silent. The color drained from #6’s face as the magnitude of his reckless action set in.

Anri’s eyes narrowed.

“Isezaki Takuma, lock off.”

The aforementioned player stood frozen, aghast with disbelief. Slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, hatred burning behind his glare.

Deep down, you knew you’d done nothing wrong. You were only trying to protect Kuon, but you still felt shaken by the fact that you’d indirectly ended someone’s dream.

Then the glare was gone, replaced by Isagi and Bachira’s backs as they shielded you from Isezaki.

“Are you serious?! He barely touched her!” Matsukawa’s voice rang out as she stormed over, indignantly protesting in defense of her player.

Oh, but when her team was about to beat the crap out of my player, she had nothing to say!

Anri’s face pulled into a frown.

“There is zero tolerance for violence towards managers, Ms. Matsukawa. Moreover, you should be grateful you’re not facing consequences for failing to intervene.”

Matsukawa flushed a deep crimson, but she kept her mouth shut. What you failed to notice was the absolute look of loathing on her face directed at you.

With no room left to argue, Isezaki turned on his heel and stalked off the field.

“Well said, Anri-chan.” Ego gave a slow clap. Whether sarcastically or genuinely, it was hard to tell.

“Now, as for you lumps of talent, leave. Don’t let something like this happen again. Team Z, take Ms. Ishikawa to the infirmary.”

The screen turned black, leaving no room for argument. Team W muttered under their breath as they dispersed, defeated in more ways than one.

Team Z immediately gathered around you, still processing the chain of events that had occurred.

“Geez, after everything you did for him, that traitor just runs.” Imamura muttered under his breath.

You awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah… but it’s not like I was looking for thanks. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

The team stared at you in silence, almost uncertain if they had heard you correctly. You fidgeted under their gaze.

I feel like I said something I shouldn’t have.

Unexpectedly, Gagamaru reached out and ruffled your hair.

“…That’s nice.”

Slightly bewildered, you let him. He could be a little air headed at times, but he was never unkind or weird to you.

Gagamaru was still ruffling your hair when Naruhaya leaned in for a better look at your ankle.

He let out a low whistle and scratched his head. “We really should get you to the infirmary. Your ankle’s looking kind of swollen.”

You groaned. “Mmm. I can walk on one leg, but I’ll need to le–”

You didn’t finish or rather you couldn’t. Kunigami effortlessly scooped you up into his arms, effectively startling you.

“I’ll take her to the infirmary.” He said, intending to leave no room for debate. “Ishikawa, do you remember the way?”

Yet, you resisted anyway.

“I-I do, but I can walk, so you can put me down!”

Being tossed or lifted in cheer was common for you, but you’d never been carried in someone’s arms. Definitely not by someone this strong and muscled out.

You squirmed in Kunigami’s arms, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Not happening. You’re injured.” He said matter-of-factly, adjusting his hold on you like it was no big deal.

You glanced helplessly at the others for backup, still wriggling in protest.

“Let him help you.” Iemon laughed, amused by your flailing.

“Ishika-chan~ Think of your ankle!” Bachira scolded playfully, handing you the ice pack with a knowing grin.

Get a grip. Kunigami’s being kind and you’re being difficult for no reason!

With a sigh, you accepted the ice pack and reluctantly settled into Kunigami’s hold. Now that you weren’t struggling, he turned and started walking toward the exit.

“Go shower and change! We’ll meet you in the cafeteria later!” You called over Kunigami’s shoulder.

From down the hallway, a chorus of "Got it!" echoed in reply.

Satisfied they’d wait, you guided Kunigami toward the infirmary. Weirdly, it was out of the way from the rest of the facility.

A strange choice for a program with so many borderline reckless athletes.

Then again, Blue Lock’s not the place for normalcy.

Humming, you glanced up at Kunigami. “Thanks for carrying me. You’re a great help!”

“No need. Like you said, it’s just the right thing to do.”

You groaned dramatically, the barest hint of a smile on your face. “Way to throw my own words back at me!”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

The rest of the walk was spent in comfortable silence. Impressively, Kunigami never once complained or asked to set you down.

Inside the infirmary, Settsu was buried in a mountain of complicated-looking forms, her pen scribbling furiously.

Yet, she seemed rather relaxed, not a hair out of place as she efficiently worked through the forms.

I wonder if she’s used to this type of work.

At the sound of the door, she looked up, surprise flashing in her eyes when she spotted you in Kunigami’s arms.

That surprise quickly faded into a teasing smile.

“My my... this is your third visit, Ms. Manager. A curious one, are you not?”

You groaned. “It’s not like I’m trying to get hurt! And the second time was just a follow-up, so it doesn’t count!”

The corner of Settsu’s lip twitched upward in mirth, but it was gone in a flash.

Regaining her composure, Settsu patted the nearest infirmary bed. “Set her here and wait one moment.”

Kunigami gently lowered you onto the bed, then took a seat nearby. Once she’d prepped, Settsu returned, clipboard in hand.

“Please explain what brings you here today.”

You twisted your bracelet. “One of the opposing team’s players shoved me and I fell. I think I twisted my ankle?”

Settsu came closer, motioning for you to lift the ice pack to take a better look at the damage.

She examined your ankle, occasionally muttering to herself while jotting notes on her clipboard. After a few minutes and a handful of questions, she finished her initial examination.

“Your ankle has suffered a Grade 1 sprain meaning the ligament has been overstretched, but not torn. Ideally, you would stay here for the next 24 hours with elevation and icing –”

You opened your mouth to argue –

“However, I can sense you are not willing to abide by those instructions. Therefore, I will tape your ankle and provide you with the necessary directions to watch over your ankle on your own.”

She opened a medical cabinet and retrieved athletic tape.

“Does that sound agreeable?”

You nodded so fast your ribbon fluttered along.

“Alright then.” Settsu paused before glancing at Kunigami. “Sir Knight, please support her while walking and inform the team as well.”

Kunigami blinked, visibly confused by the nickname, but nodded all the same.

Taping your ankle, Settsu gave you step-by-step instructions on proper care and advised you to come back immediately if your ankle started feeling worse.

“That should do it. You are free to go, Ms. Manager.” She gestured for Kunigami to help you off the bed.

You let out a soft huff, leaning into his support. “My name’s Ishikawa and his is Kunigami.”

Settsu gave a low chuckle. “I am well aware. Consider the tiles a form of endearment.”

The same teasing smile from earlier returned before she went back to working at her desk. Left a little speechless, you simply nodded as you and Kunigami headed out.

Your ankle slowed you down as you did your best not to put weight on it. Thankfully, Kunigami matched your pace, steady and patient each step of the way.

As you neared the cafeteria, a small frown tugged at your face. Team Z was huddled at the entrance, starting at something inside.

I thought they’d be eating by now.

Sharing your thought, Kunigami called out, “Hey, what’re you gu–”

Igaguri shot up and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

You and Kunigami exchanged a confused look, then carefully crept up behind the group and peeked in.

Inside the cafeteria, Kuon sat with three members of Team V. Reo, Nagi, and a third player with rigid posture.

Your jaw clenched in anger.

Don’t tell me he’s leaking our information again!

Every instinct urged you to storm in and confront him, but Kunigami's steady hand on your shoulder held you back.

You scanned the cafeteria for Mayu, but she was nowhere to be found. For now, you'd have to trust in Team V's judgment.

“–out it?! Wanna team up with me?! Kuon frantically asked.

“I’ll pass.”

“What a pain…”

“Sounds boring.”

You released a quiet breath. Relieved, but also disappointed, both in Kuon and in yourself for depending on the integrity of others.

The rejection also startled Isagi, clearly thrown by how the conversation was unfolding.

“What you’re suggesting has no merit for us.” The third player said flatly. “It’s actually a demerit. Basically, your main priority is being able to take the initiative.”

...Somehow that didn’t sound quite right.

Before you could make sense of it, he continued. “Wait, am I using those words right?”

Nope, never mind.

“Stop it, Zantetsu. You’re an idiot, so quit trying to look smart. Idiot.” Reo sighed, gently petting Nagi.

“Anyway, I hate lame guys and boring guys.” He added with a casual tilt of his head. “And you’re both.”

Ouch.

“Come on, Reo. I’m over this conversation.” Nagi yawned. “Even chewing is a pain. Let’s go… and carry me.”

The smell of grilled steak wafted toward you, rich and mouthwatering.

They’re just going to leave that steak behind?!

Team Z would have killed for steak. Hell, you would’ve killed for steak!

You wiped the small amount of drool away from your mouth.

Is Team V that spoiled for choice?

Then again, Zantetsu seemed to hesitate, hovering over the meal. Despite Reo’s complaints, he picked up Nagi anyway and prepared to leave.

“W-wait! Just hear me out!” Kuon called out desperately, rising to chase after them.

“Hey, Reo… why’s this guy so desperate?” Nagi mumbled, lazily staring at Kuon.

“‘Cause he wants to win.” Reo replied in a flat tone, almost bored.

The lazy boy’s gaze lingered, expression unreadable.

“Weak guys who have to try hard to win are such a pain. I’d rather just give up…”

Double ouch!

Kuon’s face crumpled at Nagi’s harsh words.

“Hey, Reo. Is soccer so interesting that you’d still want to play even if you lose?”

His indifference irritated you. The amount of effort Team Z had poured into every match deserved more than an offhand remark.

Even Kuon had given it his all before his betrayal.

As if unable to bear another second of Team V’s dismissiveness, Isagi strode into the cafeteria.

Reo raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

Isagi pointed a firm finger at them, voice raised and firm.

“Don’t underestimate soccer!”

The same blank look in Nagi’s eyes remained unchanged. Off to the side, Zantetsu continued chewing on the steak with mild curiosity.

Reo’s face warped into one of irritation. “I said, who the hell are you?”

Sensing a confrontation coming, you tugged at Kunigami’s sleeve. Catching on immediately, he helped you forward and the others followed.

“I’m Team Z’s Isagi Yoichi. The one who’s gonna beat you guys!!” He declared, bolder than ever.

You suppressed a grin.

He really is an egoist through and through.

Letting go of Kunigami, you carefully pushed through the group and placed a hand on Isagi’s arm.

He looked at you, startled.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds in silent conversation. Isagi hesitated, lips tightening, then reluctantly stepped back.

You gave a grateful smile before turning to Team V.

“It’s nice to see you again.” You said with a small nod. “Thanks for not accepting his offer.” You briefly glanced at Kuon, who flinched and averted his gaze.

Reo returned your politeness with a wry smile. “Of course.” His eyes swept across Team Z. “You’ve got quite a…dedicated team.”

“Why though?”

Nagi's eyes met yours, mixed with confusion and indifference.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why what?”

You knew what he meant, but you wanted him to say it.

“Why’s your team trying so hard? Putting in all that effort just to lose sounds like a pain…” He mumbled, head resting against Reo’s shoulder.

You scratched your cheek, thinking. “Isn’t it obvious? Everyone’s working hard for the sake of their dream. That’s what it means to dream.”

Nagi blinked slowly, processing your words.

You leaned in slightly, voice light.

“Besides… who said we’re going to lose?”

Reo snorted, vaguely amused. “I see where your team gets it from.”

You gave a halfhearted shrug, unable to find it in you to care.

Reo adjusted his hold on Nagi and called out to Zantetsu. “Let’s go, idiot.”

Team V walked off, leaving Team Z and its estranged member behind in the cafeteria.

You sighed, the long day starting to wear on you. “Everyone go eat. You’ve gotta be starving by now. Take the next 2 hours off. We’ll debrief afterward and come up with a plan for our next match.”

Your eyes flicked to Kuon. “Except for you. We need to talk.”

Kuon glowered but said nothing, slumping back down into his seat.

The others hesitated, torn between checking on you and wanting to give Kuon a piece of their minds.

“Alright, you heard her. Let’s go.” Chigiri said, waving to the team to follow.

Once they were out of earshot, you hobbled over and sat across from Kuon, resting your face against your hand.

“So…are you feeling okay? That punch looked like it hurt.”

Kuon fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. “...It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Too bad.” you said. “I was hoping it would help you reflect.”

He scoffed, his annoyance obvious.

Undeterred, you continued. “Anyway, just so we’re clear, I'm benching you for our last match. You’re too much of a liability, even if you do feel like playing with us.”

“Fine by me.” He muttered. “Doing nothing is in my best interest.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t think that means you get to slack off. You’ll still train with us. And don’t even think about stirring up trouble or sabotaging practice.”

Kuon’s lip curled. “Say whatever you want. I won’t see any of you again once Team Z loses.”

Your eye twitched.

“Y’know, Kuon… you’re awfully confident for a guy who had to cheat to be the scoring king.” You leaned in slightly, sneering. “What was it Reo called you?”

You snapped your fingers. “Oh yeah! Lame and boring.”

He stiffened.

“And guess what?” You said, staring coldly at him. “The others? They’re starting to awaken to their potential.”

You paused, letting that sink in.

“Watch your back Kuon, or you might just get knocked off your pedestal by someone you least expect.”

While you were in the infirmary, the results of Wing 5’s eighth matches were released.

During the two-hour break you'd granted the team, you kept yourself busy setting up the monitoring room. Iemon insisted on helping, relieving Kunigami of his escort duties.

Together, you pulled chairs into place, queued video footage of the eighth match, and double-checked the playback setup.

One by one, Team Z filed in, including Kuon. He silently took a seat in the far corner, intent on avoiding everyone as much as possible.

Iemon remained at your side, supporting you as you addressed the team.

“Team V,” You began, “won their match against Team X, 5 to 2. Barou was the only one to score for Team X.”

Isagi leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. “That makes him the top scorer in Wing 5 with ten goals…”

You rewound the footage to the first half.

“Right. Honestly, he might’ve scored more if Team X hadn’t turned on him and completely self-destructed. Let their downfall be a warning for us.”

Raichi muttered something about hating playing defense but didn’t object further.

Fast-forwarding, you stopped at a frame showcasing Team V’s trio.

“More importantly,” You said, pointing to the screen, “Team V revolves around Reo, Nagi, and Zantetsu. Each of them scored in this match and every match before it.”

You grabbed onto Iemon, steadying yourself.

“The next match is Team W vs. Team Y. After that, it’s our turn against Team V.”

A nervous energy filled the room as everyone realized the importance of the last match.

“Based on everything I’ve seen, one thing is clear. We need to go beyond ourselves. That means starting tomorrow, your training drills and individual routines will be revamped to push past your current limits.”

You pumped your fist, voice firm but encouraging.

“So give it your best!”

Determined shouts echoed back. Whatever nerves had lingered were now overwritten by Team Z’s drive to succeed.

Meanwhile, the traitor of Team Z sat quietly in the corner, watching his teammates with contempt.

As promised, the next day brought a complete overhaul of everyone's training regimes. You had spent the entire night analyzing Team Z’s data and adjusting exercises.

Everything was tailored to each player's growth.

Surprisingly, you weren’t tired. If anything, you were ready to tackle the week ahead in preparation for the big match.

“Let’s do this!!” Igaguri shouted, slamming his fists together before launching himself onto the treadmill.

“Oi, shut it, you idiot! It's too damn early for yelling!” Raichi barked from the floor, ironically louder than Igaguri as he worked through a set of core exercises.

The others in the machine room were too focused on their training to pay them any attention.

“I’ll be back in ten, gonna check on the practice field!” You called out as you headed for the exit.

A couple of grunts were all you received as a response.

Thanks to Kunigami, Iemon, and a solid night’s rest, your ankle was feeling much better.

Another couple of days and I can ditch the tape altogether!

But your ankle’s one sworn enemy remained.

Stairs.

You glared at the steps like they’d insulted your entire family, took a deep breath, and prepared yourself for battle.

Just as you were about to take that first painful step –

“H-Haru!”

The sound of hurried footsteps distracted you as Mayu came skidding to a stop, panting hard.

“Mayu, what’s wrong?” You asked, alarmed, watching her brace herself against the wall as she struggled to catch her breath.

“N-nothing…Wait, no, that’s not right. What I mean is, uh…” She stammered, words not coming out as she intended.

Sucking in a deep breath, she bowed, low and sincere.

“I’m so sorry for the way my team acted toward yours!”

Her hands tightly clutched her pants, shaking slightly.

Oh Mayu…

“Hey, lift your head, and don’t be sorry! My team shares some of the blame too.”

Mostly Kuon.

“A-Are you sure?” She asked, still bowed, her voice small.

“Yes!” you said firmly. “Now come on, stand up.”

You gently nudged her shoulder. After some hesitation, Mayu straightened with a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad. I thought this might…”

She trailed off, her fingers once again twisting at the fabric of her pants. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

You couldn’t quite say what moved you most. Her trembling hands, her vulnerability, or her quiet guilt, but the instinct to comfort her came easily.

So you reached out.

Gently, you patted her head.

Mayu startled but then smiled.

A real one.

Tiny, but full of warmth.

You grinned and placed your hands on your hips. “Now, if you could help me up these stairs, that’d be great!”

Playfully, you wiggled your ankle.

Mayu’s eyes widened at the sight of it, but immediately stepped in to support you.

As the two of you slowly made your way up, you chatted, finally catching up outside the usual study sessions.

It felt good. A nice distraction amidst all the busyness.

When you finally reached the top, you threw your arms into the air.

“In your face, stairs!”

Mayu giggled beside you. “Y-Yes, take that, stairs!”

You turned toward her. “Thanks, Mayu. It would’ve taken me forever on my own.”

“You’re welcome. Do you need help going down?” She asked, looking up at you.

You shook your head. “Nah, going down’s easier. Besides, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than babysit me all day.”

“Alright. Will I see you tonight for our study session?”

You nodded, and she beamed before waving and heading off.

Inside the training field, you found Kunigami, Chigiri, Bachira, and Isagi hard at work. Sweat dripped down their foreheads, evidence of how hard they were training.

“How’s everything looking in here?” You called out as you stepped onto the turf.

“Ishika-chan!” Bachira cheered.

Instead of answering your question, he zipped around you like a little bumblebee.

Man, he really does get distracted easily.

Not that you minded. His energy had its own kind of charm.

Opening your spreadsheet, you documented updates based on their feedback and general results.

Notes

[] Isagi’s stamina has visibly improved since last week.

[] Kunigami has a stronger understanding of the link between his technique and physical ability.

[] Chigiri has reduced strain on his legs due to modified exercises.

[] Bachira’s monster(?) is extremely talkative today.

You paused, staring at that last entry.

Not sure what that “monster” is, but I’ll roll with it.

The next few days blur together in a cycle of routine: wake up, study, eat, train, analyze, train, eat again, meeting, study more, then sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

By day four, the energy you started the waiting period with had begun to wane.

A yawn escaped you, one you tried to hide behind your tablet.

The fourth exam was held earlier in the day, covering public relations, marketing, and international business. You and Mayu had hunkered down to study, intent on acing the exam.

The results wouldn’t be released anytime soon, but you felt confident that you’d done well.

You rocked back and forth on your feet, no longer feeling any wobbliness in your ankle. Days of proper rest and support from the others had fully healed it.

You were glad nothing serious had come out of it.

Meanwhile, Team Z was still going strong in practice, even running late into the evenings. Surprisingly, Kuon was behaving too.

He mostly kept to himself, but you took it as a win.

As you continued logging notes, a notification popped up on your screen.

Managers, the results of the ninth match are now available for download.

You lit up.

“Everyone, follow me!” you shouted, already running out of the machine room. You didn’t even check if Team Z was keeping up, too eager to get to the footage.

Reaching the monitoring room, you wasted no time loading the file and hitting play.

The match was surprising, to say the least.

Not only did Team Y draw with Team W, but it was Niko of all people who scored the game-tying goal.

“Thanks to Team Y’s efforts, we’re currently in third place and still in the running to advance!” You explained, clicking the remote to project Wing 5’s latest scoreboard onto the screen.

“So if Team W had won, they’d have hit seven points.” Kunigami noted. “Making our last match pointless.”

You smacked your fist against your palm. “Exactly!”

“I didn’t think Niko was the type to try scoring by himself...” Chigiri murmured, watching the replay.

“Guess he had a change of heart.” Bachira laughed, eyes twinkling as he glanced at Isagi. “Thanks to a certain someone.”

Oblivious, Isagi remained silent, mesmerized by the footage of Niko’s goal.

“But don’t get too comfortable!” You warned. “We absolutely have to win our next match against Team V. Tying isn’t enough to get us through to the second selection.”

You switched the screen to clips from Team V’s past matches.

“To do that, we need to surpass these three.”

The footage showed Nagi, Reo, and Zantetsu in the middle of coordinated plays, scoring goal after goal. At no point did the three of them look remotely concerned about losing.

“Zantetsu has five goals. Reo, six. And Nagi leads with seven making him their top scorer.”

You cleared your throat.

“I doubt I need to remind you what kind of threat they pose, but this should make it clear. If we don’t stop them, we have zero chance of winning.”

Chapter Text

Another long, exhausting day had come and gone with no word on Team Z’s final match.

How long does Ego plan on making us wait…

Attempting to relax, you decided to skip tonight’s late-night study session with Mayu and unwind with a bit of stretching before bed.

Hehe, luckily I packed some workout clothes!

Easing into a yoga pose, you brought your right knee forward toward your wrist, foot angled toward your left hip. As you slid your left leg back, your hips stayed square.

You inhaled deeply, lifted your chest, and gently leaned into a backbend. Reaching back to grab your left foot, you deepened the stretch until you felt a nice stretch.

Still got it!

Eyes closed, you breathed deeply, letting the stretch guide you. The room was quiet except for the sound of your breath and the trickle of sweat down your forehead.

I should do this more oft–

“Hello everyone. Jinpachi Ego here.”

Startled, you lost your grip on the pose. Ego always had the worst timing or maybe he just didn’t care for anyone’s schedule but his own. Most likely the latter.

His face filled the training room’s screen and probably Team Z’s communal sleeping quarters too.

“Now then, it’s time to announce the final Blue Lock rankings of the first selection round!”

You reached for a towel, dabbing sweat from your brow, and braced yourself.

265: Kuon Wataru

266: Chigiri Hyoma

267: Isagi Yoichi

…

“This can’t be good.” You muttered.

Team Z was sure to be in an uproar, especially Raichi, over Kuon being the leading player.

Ego went on to explain the logic behind the rankings, but you doubt it helped calm anyone down, especially once he revealed his true opinion on everyone.

“However, Kuon Wataru, as a striker you’re the lowest of the lowest of the low. Actually, all of you are garbage.”

A chill rolled down your spine.

Yeah… I definitely don’t want to be on the receiving end of those words.

Ego made it abundantly clear that none of Team Z’s goals impressed him. According to him, the world’s best striker needed a formula that would reliably produce goals.

Unfortunately, you’d left your tablet behind for your yoga session, so you absorbed every detail of his endlessly drawn-out rant as you could.

“The answer to your formulas is sleeping in the field. Those who can’t find it can piss off.”

Yikes!

Sighing, you took a sip of water and nearly choked as a twenty-four-hour countdown flashed across the screen. Honestly, you should be used to the suddenness of the countdowns, but here you were.

Scrambling, you snatched your things and sprinted to Team Z’s communal quarters. Since it was past 10 PM, you weren’t allowed inside. Not wanting to trip the motion sensors, you pounded your fist against the nearby wall instead.

Please let someone be awake.

Restless, you’re about to knock again when the door slides open, revealing a confused Iemon.

“Let the others know we’re meeting one hour before the match for one last team meeting! And tell them not to be late!

Always reliable, Iemon nodded without hesitation.

You were just about to leave when a second head poked around the doorway.

“Ishika-chan ~ Did you pass Isagi on the way here?” Bachira asked, blinking at you curiously.

You raised an eyebrow. “No… he left?”

“Mmm!” Bachira confirmed with a hum. “He had this really intense look!”

To emphasize, he scrunched his brows, tightened his lips, and gave a razor-sharp stare. His best impression of Isagi in serious mode.

Maybe he went to train after seeing the rankings? Or maybe Ego's speech lit a fire under him?

You wanted to trust he was fine. Isagi didn’t strike you as the reckless type, aside from that little declaration of war against Team V.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

“If he’s not back by midnight, come get me.”

Bachira nodded, the intensity from earlier already replaced by his usual grin.

Despite the high stakes of Team Z’s final match, there was an odd lightness in your step. You felt ready to take on Team V.

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but the point is that there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

The match was coming, whether you were ready or not.

At least Isagi had returned safely, judging by your uninterrupted night’s sleep. A small win in the grand scheme of things, but much needed in this crazy facility.

Giving the room a once over, you confirmed you had everything and headed off to breakfast.

The cafeteria was quieter than usual. The few players scattered across tables had stooped shoulders, blank stares, and half-eaten meals.

Figures. We’re nearing the end of the first selection. For most of them, this is where their dreams end.

That heavy thought was tucked away into the back of your mind for another day.

You pushed away your tray with a sigh, less than satisfied with the measly serving of miso soup and rice.

Across from you, Mayu giggled softly.

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re pouting.”

A frown found its way onto your face. “Really? I didn’t even notice…”

She bit back another giggle, sparing you, and returned to studying. The managers had one last exam, although the date was unclear.

For the entirety of breakfast, Mayu had been calm and composed. Not a single trace of her usual nerves was to be found despite the big upcoming match.

You watched her for a moment, gears turning in your head, until your curiosity got the best of you.

“Aren’t you nervous?”

Mayu’s hand stilled, the stylus hovering over her screen as she looked up at you. A sort of unspoken pact existed between you two; avoid the dreaded match talk as much as possible.

Yet, here you were breaking it for the sake of satiating your curiosity.

“I am, but…” She began, her gaze sweeping over the room.

To the players around you.

“When I see others fighting for their dreams, I can’t help but feel like I need to do the same. Even if I don’t have one.”

Her eyes dropped to her tablet, its black screen now reflecting her downcast face. The last part of her sentence slipped out in a whisper.

It was too soft to make out clearly, but her upset expression told you everything.

You didn’t press her. Instead, you changed the subject, hoping to ease the sadness clouding her features.

“Still,” You said with a smile, “I know we’ll both give it our best in the match. Right?”

Mayu returned the smile, albeit a bit wobbly. “Yes.”

As breakfast came to an end, the two of you rose to return your trays.

However, your whole body prickled with the sensation of being watched. Not just by one person, but multiple.

I’m just imagining things…Guess I didn’t sleep as well as I thought.

Shaking your head, you ignored that tingling feeling.

At least you tried until the whispers came.

“That’s her, right?”

Your stomach drops, but you will yourself to keep walking.

“Yeah, I heard she got a player eliminated on purpose.”

Trembling, you grip your tray tighter.

“Seriously? What right does she have…”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a trio of Team Y players glaring your way before leaving the cafeteria.

No. Nonono. Not again. Not here, anywhere but here.

Their voices faded behind you, but the damage was done. You were shaken, left in a state of shame.

Why didn’t I say anything?

Part of you wanted to cry out that it wasn’t true. Another part whispered that none of it mattered. Intentional or not, you had ended someone’s dream.

And who started that rumor?!

There was only one logical answer, but thinking about it made you angry.

Matsukawa, that spiteful, litt–!

“–awa, everything okay?”

Mayu’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, ripping you from your spiral.

“H-huh?”

Blinking, you found yourself already at the dish return. Mayu looked up at you, worry pooling in her eyes.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, all good!” You forced a laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “Just thinking about everything I’ve gotta do today, haha…”

She didn’t look convinced. Her brows creased ever so slightly, but mercifully, she didn’t pry.

With the match looming over your respective teams, the two of you parted ways.

The dry-erase marker squeaked as you sketched out Team Z’s formation, each position carefully marked on the whiteboard.

“Remember,” You said, capping the marker, “Kunigami, Chigiri, and Gagamaru will form the core of our offense.”

The three strikers nodded with unwavering determination. You had faith they wouldn’t let you down.

“Everyone else will focus on defending, making sure to shut down their attacks before they gain any momentum.”

Stepping back, you perched on the bench and handed things over to Iemon. The makeshift goalie did a great job taking over Kuon’s duties. He’d more than earned your gratitude.

“Ideally, we win 1–0.” Iemon added. “Without Kuon, that’s our most realistic shot.”

You nodded along, fingers fumbling with today’s ribbon. A navy one dotted with tiny gold stars, a gift from Kaori. As you struggled with it, another spat broke out between Raichi and Kuon.

You didn’t bother looking up this time. “Cut it out, you two! Kuon’s benched. He’s not doing anything except warming the seat.”

Tugging a bit too hard, you winced as strands of your hair were pulled tight. Before you could fix it, a pair of gentle hands took the ribbon from yours.

“Here, let me.” Chigiri offered an amused tone coating his words.

A sigh of relief left you as you handed it over. He wove the ribbon through your hair with practiced ease, avoiding snags and tangles.

“You really do have a big collection.” He murmured, hints of a smile in his voice.

“And I plan to grow it once we get out of here!” You chirped.

Finished, Chigiri’s hands left your hair. You gave your hair a quick pat, checking to see if you liked it, then threw him a thumbs up.

Sometimes I envy him and his dexterous hands.

A loud clap drew you, and the others, attention to Igaguri.

“Team V’s advancement is already settled, so I’m sure there are gonna be cracks in their play! If we can exploit that, we can win!”

You jumped up and grabbed the supply cart. “Well said, Igaguri! Now, let’s go!”

The locker room overflowed with a sudden unity, nervous energy transforming into resolve. The team marched out with a roaring war cry.

“We’re gonna win this, Team Z!!!”

You thrust your fist in the air, voice joining theirs. “Yeah!!!”

As you pushed the cart toward the tunnel, you noticed Isagi lagging behind. He gripped his chest, exhaling shakily. Bachira drifted to his side, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder.

“Isagi. Ishika-chan.”

You slowed, watching as Bachira fixed both of you with a rare, serious expression.

“If we lose, I guess we won’t be able to see each other or play soccer together anymore, right?”

Your grip on the cart tightened until your knuckles whitened. You hadn’t let yourself think that far, not yet, but the truth in his words stung.

In the short amount of time you’d known Team Z, they’d become something akin to your friends. Even the difficult ones, like Raichi, had earned your fondness.

You weren’t ready to admit that to their face for fear of rejection; something you highly doubted they’d do, but still.

I don’t want this to end. No way.

Isagi mumbled Bachira’s name, quietly processing his words.

“I’d hate that, so I’m gonna give it my all.” The simplicity of it combined with the raw sincerity made you beam.

How lucky am I to have such a great team!

Isagi met Bachira head-on with an unwavering gaze. “Yeah. Let’s win this.”

You pushed the cart forward again, then glanced over your shoulder with a grin.

“You’d better! I’d hate to see us fall short now of all times!”

The second Team Z stepped onto the field, the air crackled with tension, both teams staring each other down.

Taking a deep breath, you left the cart behind to lightly jog toward Team V’s manager: Mayu.

The intensity melted the instant you reached her. Gone was the tension, replaced by the warmth of your shared bond.

“Long time no see!” You chuckled, extending your hand

An airy giggle left Mayu as she clasped it in a surprisingly firm handshake.

“Let’s give it our all.”

The usual signs of her nervousness were nowhere to be found. A quiet, but steady confidence permeated Mayu’s energy.

Guess Nagi was right about her mouse-to-hawk tendencies.

Speaking of the lazy one, he and the two others of Team V’s trio were watching you and Mayu curiously.

“Yup!” You said, releasing her hand. Walking away, you tossed a playful glance over your shoulder. “And no hard feelings!”

You plopped down onto the bench, tablet and stylus at the ready as the teams took their positions. To your right, Kuon clicked his tongue.

Jerk.

The whistle blew, sounding the start of the match.

As expected from their previous matches, Team V’s attack started with Reo seizing control of the ball. Usually, he would dribble past the defense with ease, quickly scoring a goal within the first few minutes.

Too bad for him. We’ve got Bachira and Isagi ready to shut him down.

Sure enough, the pressure from the two egoists forced Reo to pivot. With no room to advance, he passed to the side where Zantetsu lay in wait.

The latter’s combo of speed and sharp shooting, especially a middle shot from the right of the goal, came as no surprise.

Raichi and Naruhaya closed in, cutting off his chance to score. You narrowed your eyes, already anticipating the next move.

As predicted, Zantetsu passed to the third member of Team V’s triangle: Nagi. The top scorer looked half-asleep, eyes glazed with boredom as he waited for the ball to come to him.

Don’t go getting too comfortable.

His complacent attitude backfired as Igaguri launched himself forward and headbutted the ball away.

You let out a small whoop of excitement, scribbling furiously on your tablet.

Time for our counter!

All those hours of practice were paying off.

Bachira sent the ball flying across the field toward Gagamaru, who dived, aiming a header straight for the goal.

C’mon Gagamaru, you can do it!

The ball slammed into the side of the net, causing you to let out a hiss of frustration. Still, the plan had gone fairly well.

If we keep this up, we’re bound to score!

Team Z eagerly reset, keen on making up for the missed shot.

A loud yell broke your focus.

“Holy crap!! That was cool!!”

Your gaze snapped to Reo, excitedly shouting at Nagi. It was hard to make out what he was saying, but the intent slowly, and painfully became clear.

They’re copying our counter?!

Your stomach tightened as Reo launched a pass with an insane top spin toward Nagi.

No way! We worked so hard on that, there’s zero chance of them pulli–

Time slowed.

With horrifying ease, Nagi trapped the ball while still moving. One solid kick was all it took for Team V to net their first point.

None of your previous opponents had this kind of talent. Nagi Seishiro wasn’t just talented; he was a terrifying genius.

A wave of unease washed over you, and judging by the stillness of your team, they felt it too.

The next 10 minutes were a trainwreck, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. One by one, your weapons were reduced to mere scraps.

Kunigami’s weapon was stopped before he could enter his ideal shooting range. Chigiri, Chigiri of all people, was beaten in a contest of speed by Zantetsu.

Clearly, Mayu and them had done their homework.

Helpless, you watched as Team V scored goal after goal. Kuon laughed beside you, a mockery of your efforts.

Tempers flared as the stress of the situation made itself clear. Even Kunigami was dragged into a shouting match with Raichi.

Observing from the sidelines, you saw it; Team Z was losing the will to fight.

You’d seen it countless times before: creeping doubt, demoralization, and silent surrender before teams inevitably lost the match.

You thought back to Saitama’s prefectural finals. It all seemed so long ago now, but you vividly remembered the look of devastation on Ichinan’s players.

Clenching the fabric of your tracksuit, you concentrate on your breathing.

It was your duty, not only as their manager but also as a proud member of your cheer squad to boost team spirit and keep them from losing all hope.

Cheering on and supporting others…Yeah, that’s what I’m meant to do!

Cupping your hands around your mouth, you inhale and give it your all.

“Go, go, Team Z! Let’s go, Team Z! Go, fight, win!”

The chant rang out across the field, reaching your team as their heads turned to look at you. Kuon stared at you like you’d grown a second head, but you couldn’t care less.

To hell with what he thinks! Matter of fact, to hell with what anyone thinks!

All that mattered was for Team Z to understand that you hadn’t given up on them. Not even for a second.

And someone did see.

Bachira smiled dazzlingly at you, eyes swirling with that familiar look of egoism.

“You’re the best, Ishika-chan!”

He planted his foot on the ball, rolled his shoulder with a stretch, and that cheeky grin of his widened.

“Alright, alright!! This is getting fun ♪ “

He shot you a wink and took off, surprising the others.

Your cheers grew louder with every successful one-on-one Bachira tore through, ball dancing at his feet like it was part of him. Amazingly, he pulled off a flawless Rabona, sending the ball soaring past the goalie and into the net.

Jumping up, you whoop with delight. The rest of Team Z nearly bowls over Bachira in celebration, their joy loud and infectious.

In a single moment, Bachira eliminated the gloom of despair that had been dragging everyone under.

Unbeknownst to you, Mayu watched from across the field, her expression caught between awe and admiration.

Team Z throws themselves into the match with a new ferocity, determined to fight until the end. Raichi, abandoning his ‘sexy’ soccer, clung to Reo like a shadow.

Am I going crazy or is Raichi actually cooperating for the sake of the team?

Forced to pass, the ball is sent to Zantetsu.

“Heads up, Nagi!”

Chigiri rushes forward, legs a blur, and hell-bent on not losing to Zantetsu again. He manages to graze the ball, but that single touch is enough to send the pass off course.

Yet, even disrupted, Nagi spun it into another chance to score. Your heart stopped at the thought of him scoring, yet another goal.

Only for Igaguri’s face to block his shot.

You cringed but silently thanked him for his sacrifice.

The ball ends up in Kunigami’s possession, but still outside of his ideal shooting range of 28 meters.

A sudden realization hits you.

The key to Bachira’s goal was an evolution born from his weapon, meaning what Kunigami needs to do is…

“Don’t lose your nerve, Kunigami! Fight! You’re gonna be a superhero, aren’t you?!” / “Go past your limitations, Kunigami!!”

Your voice and Isagi’s mix in a blend of encouragement, reaching him in time. A loud boom echoes throughout the field from the impact of Kunigami’s kick.

A triumphant roar rips from him as he scores the second point for Team Z.

Your hands shake with the sheer thrill of it all. Somewhere beside you, your tablet lay forgotten on the bench, completely abandoned in the wake of Team Z’s comeback.

The first half ended with the scoreboard reading: Team V: 3 - Team Z: 2

“Oh, that was so cool! The way you just demolished their defense!” You gushed, handing Bachira a water bottle.

Spinning toward Kunigami, you toss him a towel. “And you! You scored from freaking forty meters!! Are you kidding me?!

You practically bounced off the walls with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Team Z could only grin as you showered them with praise, their pride swelling in response.

Most of them at least.

“Argh, enough already! What is this, a feel go–?”

You shoved a water bottle into his hands.

“Nope! Don’t wanna hear it ~” You sang, turning on your heel with dramatic flair. Hands on hips, you faced the team.

“Let’s keep this momentum going all the way to the end!”

A wave of cheers echoed behind you as Team Z’s locker room buzzed with energy.

The second half kicks off with both teams charging in at full throttle. Over the break, Team V must’ve decided to switch up their strategy because their defense is much tighter than before.

Even more dangerous is how their players are now taking initiative.

No team has pure possession of the ball, constantly being stolen. One moment it’s at Isagi’s feet, the next it’s Reo’s. Unfortunately for him, so is Raichi.

You make a mental note to praise Raichi’s stamina in your daily report.

A gasp rips from your throat.

Reo, the supposed leader of Team V, shoves his elbow right into Raichi’s throat. Instantly, VAR issues him a yellow card, earning a scowl from Reo.

Raicihi just grins, rubbing his throat like a badge of honor.

With the ball back in play, Raichi quickly sends it downfield. Receiving it is none other than Team Z’s fastest member.

Chigiri!

For a split second, it looks like Zantetsu might beat him out again, but Chigiri’s gamble pays off as the ball lands in his ideal range.

One long sprint is all it takes to secure another point.

The teams are officially tied.

“That’s it Chigiri!!!”

Your voice strained through the noise of the field, but it reached him. He pumped his fist, and Team Z crowded around, feeding off the energy of the goal.

The joy is short-lived though.

Kuon rises from the bench, nostrils flaring and fists clenched.

“What the hell are you doing, Team V?!! Get serious, you idiots!! Won’t you feel ashamed losing to a ten-player team?!

You grabbed him by the collar, straining to reach, and yanked him back down. He scowled but kept his mouth shut.

With only fifteen minutes left, the pressure cracked Reo’s composure. It was the first time you’d seen any sort of unease in him.

Even more jarring was seeing Nagi take initiative instead of relying on Reo.

And score.

Your eyes widened seeing him score so easily. Next to you, Kuon sighed with relief. Across the field, Mayu clapped politely, her soft smile unreadable.

What else could this damn genius be hiding?!

As you mulled it over, Team Z gathered, panic growing until Raichi's voice started yelling.Too far away to understand what he was saying, all you had to go off was the deep frustration in his expression.

“You’re strikers, right?!!”

Like a trigger, his words set off a chain of events. Instead of worrying about what-ifs, Team Z decided to commit to one final gamble.

An all-out offensive attack.

Isagi seized the moment, maintaining possession of the ball. Numerous attempts to score were made, each failing, until the ball landed in Kunigami’s territory.

He fired.

Team V: 4 - Team Z: 4

Without a doubt, it was an amazing goal. Though, much more amazing was Isagi. He stood there, basking in the glory of the goal. That familiar atmosphere of egoism wrapped around him like a veil.

Did he see all of that coming? Just by smelling a goal?

You shook your head.

No, that’s not right. His weapon’s gotta be evolved by now. To the point where it’s more accurate to call it spatial awareness.

It was risky to test the evolution with only 5 minutes left, but it was necessary to be the world's best striker.

A flurry of plays began again, each team hungry to win. Team V countered fast with Zantetsu launching a cross to Nagi.

Isagi, foreseeing this, was ready to stop him.

Or so it seemed, but Isagi was currently no match for Nagi’s prowess. Inexplicably, the genius trapped the ball with his back.

Your heart stopped.

He’s gonna score…He’s gonna score!!

You were frozen, entranced by the play unfolding. So much so that you didn’t notice Kuon muttering to himself, hands clenched tight around his head.

By the time he flew off the bench, it was too late.

Kuon crashed into Nagi, sending them both to the ground.

It was, by far, the most obvious denial of a scoring opportunity you’d ever seen in your short managerial role.

“Kuon Wataru, red card! You’re out of the game!”

Chaos erupted as both teams swarmed the downed players. Reo’s face contorted in fury, and you bolted from the sidelines, only to slow as Mayu stepped in first.

Steady and composed, she helped Nagi to his feet and away from the fray.

You bowed deeply, guilt tugging hard at your chest. Mayu gave a shaky smile in response, while Nagi looked completely unfazed.

As you led Kuon back, he cast one last look toward the field before slumping onto the bench.

Kuon the traitor, who swore he’d only look out for himself, had sacrificed his chance to advance. You glanced at him, unsure of what to say.

In the end, you settled for passing him a water bottle. He took it in silence.

Thanks to Kuon the game went into overtime, but it also handed Team V a free kick. Team Z lined up, anxiety clear as day on their faces.

By now, Iemon had plenty of practice in one-on-ones due to the penalty kick drills you’d implemented earlier on.

However, nothing could compare to the real deal where stakes were high and entire soccer careers depended on him protecting the goal.

You tried to read Reo’s body language, tried to anticipate his next move, but you couldn’t. Your best guess was that he would pass, but to who?

Looking back, you should’ve known better. After all, Blue Lock was a facility crawling with egoists.

Maybe that’s why Iemon guessed right, lunging and blocking the shot.

The save sparked an all-out war. It’s almost too much for your poor heart to handle with each attempt by Team V blocked by Team Z.

Mercifully, Bachira steals the ball, dribbling past defenders and putting Team Z back in control.

Unwilling to go quietly, Team V seems to have no issue with fouling if it means victory.

Reading the field, Isagi rushes to Bachira’s aid, flanked by Chigiri and Kunigami. Yet, Isagi doesn’t pass.

Instead, he uses them as decoys and continues sprinting down the field. It’s a new side of him you’ve never seen, but it only grows your admiration.

You’re not the only one taken in by the egotistical sight.

“Go!!!” Kuon’s shout comes out not as a request, but as an order. An order for Isagi to succeed and carry Team Z to victory.

Chest swelling with pride, you join Kuon.

“Finish this, Isagi!!!”

The ball found its way back to Bachira. The others screamed for a pass, but in a split-second glance between him and Isagi, a decision was made.

The ball soars over to Isagi and –

Nagi?!

Hesitation flickered in Isagi’s expression, the looming presence of a genius and shouts from his teammates surrounding him.

Throughout the entirety of the first selection, you’ve witnessed Isagi’s growth. He was no longer the same as when he first entered Blue Lock.

Maybe that’s why you weren’t shocked to see the hesitation wiped away by pure determination and grit.

Swinging back his leg, Isagi struck the ball in mid-air before it could touch the ground.

All of his hard work pays off as the ball sails into the goal.

The whistle sounds, marking the end of the match. With it comes an explosion of triumph as the bliss of victory washes over your team.

Team Z clears the first selection.

And you’re right there with them, voice hoarse, but grinning ear to ear.

Chapter Text

Cheers and laughter filled Team Z’s communal room, still running off the high of their victory over Team V. The smell of freshly made gyoza, sizzling steak, savory yakisoba, and much more wafted from the makeshift buffet you’d assembled by pushing the little tables together.

It was enough to make your mouth water.

Unfortunately, your managerial duties came first.

You waved Kuon over and grabbed the first aid kit. Not long after the final whistle, Raichi had landed a solid punch on him. You’d scolded him immediately, though judging by the shit-eating grin Raichi wore afterward, he didn’t regret it one bit.

Dabbing a cotton ball in mild, soapy water, you gently cleaned the cut on his cheek. You suspected Kuon had never gone to the infirmary after Isezaki’s beatdown, either.

“Kuon, you are one lucky bastard.” Imamura muttered, watching with theatrical jealousy.

Kuon fidgeted under the womanizer’s intense stare. “Stay still.” You mumbled, pulling out petroleum jelly from the kit. He murmured an apology, gaze flicking to Imamura in confusion.

You lightly applied the ointment. Imamura’s mutterings now full-on whispers.

“Done!” You clapped the kit shut, satisfied with your minimal first aid. Across the room, Igaguri bounced on the futons like a kid on a sugar high. A wide, goofy grin stretched across his face.

Grinning, you bolted toward him and dove into the pile, earning a startled shriek from him. After a moment of soaking in the soft bedding, you stood up and glanced over.

“Alright, help me put these away.” You said to Igaguri, gesturing toward the disheveled futons. The boy groaned but obeyed.

Before you could reach for one, a rough hand touched your shoulder. “Let me.” Kunigami stepped in, lifting the futons before you could object.

Dependable as always!

“Hey, can somebody go get drinks from the cafeteria?” Kuon called, tugging another futon off to the side.

“I got it!” You chirped, grabbing two empty trays from the table. Bachira and Isagi followed you, happy to help.

Together, the three of you made quick work of the task, rambling about the match, especially their goals, as you filled up the countless water bottles. You could tell they were proud of themselves.

“Oh, that’s right! Thanks for that final pass, Bachira! I couldn’t have done it without you.” Isagi said as he double-checked that the lids were properly closed.

You arranged the bottles onto the tray, ensuring they didn’t knock into each other. You watched with curiosity as Bachira waved off Isagi’s words, insisting the goal was 100% Isagi’s.

You couldn’t help but agree, thinking back to how naturally his evolution unfolded. Listening to Isagi break down the thought process behind his own goal only solidified that belief.

“That’s why I feel like my time as a striker is really just beginning!!” Isagi declared, unusually bold. He never boasted about himself and usually put the team first. It was a breath of fresh air to see his confidence on full display.

That confidence wilted a little, as Isagi quickly backpedaled. A sheepish expression crossed his face as he apologized for getting carried away.

“That’s a great look! Real egotistical.” Bachira hummed, causing Isagi to look confused.

“Right! That’s exactly the type of energy you need here!” You added, beaming at him. The striker grinned and reached to high-five Bachira, who faked him out and chopped Isagi on the head.

Isagi yelped, rubbing his head as you laughed and offered your hand. He gave you a sheepish grin before returning your high-five.

Sounds of wailing from the hallway broke the lighthearted fun between the three of you. You squinted, trying to make out the blurred movement. Then you saw it: Okawa’s spiky blonde hair among the silhouettes being led out.

The disqualified players were being forced out of Blue Lock. Their broken sobs echoed throughout the hallway before fading away.

A sudden voice behind you made you jump.

Niko, the sole survivor of Team Y, leaned against the wall. He got straight to the point, declaring Isagi. Said rival didn’t hesitate to meet Niko head-on, a familiar sign of egoism shone in his eyes as he echoed Niko’s sentiments.

Bachira smirked. “You’re getting popular, Isagi. How many rivals do you have?”

You giggled, playing along with the teasing. “I’m pretty sure he’s up to at least eight!” The two of you bantered back and forth, rattling off names until Isagi’s ears turned red. You decided to show him mercy and let the teasing end there.

“We’re back!” You announced cheerfully, balancing the tray of water bottles as the door to Team Z’s communal room slid open.

What greeted you was a room of snoring players, utterly wiped from the day’s match. They looked at peace as they lay scattered across the room.

You stifled a laugh and tiptoed to the table, quietly setting down the tray. Grabbing a plate, you hummed happily as you loaded up on delicious food.

The two strikers watched, amused.

“A girl’s gotta eat ~” You sang playfully.

Satisfied with your mountain of food, you exchanged hushed goodbyes. Bachira snagged a gyoza off your plate with a mischievous grin before skipping away. Isagi fondly shook his head, sending you off with a smile.

On your way back to your room, you popped a piece of mackerel into your mouth, sighing in bliss.

Oh, how I’ve missed you, my dear delicious mackerel!

Normally, dragging yourself out of bed was a chore in itself, but not today. Today, you woke up refreshed, more than ready to face the day. Walking down the hallway with a spring in your step, you washed up quickly.

Once finished, you settled into your usual dressing routine. The moment your bracelet clasped into place, a loud ding rang out from your tablet.

Managers, please head to the manager’s lobby. Information about final rankings will be provided. Bring your items from the managerial kit.

Your fingers clenched around the tablet, heart racing.

It’s time.

Gone was your earlier cheeriness, replaced by a sense of urgency. Grabbing your managerial kit, you hurried down the corridor, careful not to drop anything in your rush. The moment you stepped into the lobby, you halted with a soft gasp.

The once bleak and sparsely furnished space had undergone a full transformation: sturdy desks, cushioned office chairs, bookshelves filled to the brim, and a printer next to it. A miniature fridge and a small coffee cart stood off to the side. Only one couch remained from the old setup.

Curiosity piqued, you set your things on a desk and wandered over to the fridge.

No food. Only milk and creamers for the coffee.

You sighed, mildly disappointed.

“Haru?”

You turned to find Mayu standing in the doorway, eyes wide with surprise as she took in the room's new look.

“Mayu!” You rushed over to the girl’s side, happy to see her. “Isn’t this so cool?!” You exclaimed, gesturing towards the room.

The small girl nodded, setting her things down on the desk beside yours. Pulling a chair back, she sat down, her face brightening. "It's comfortable!"

You grinned and sat in your chair before spinning around. The world blurred as your friend softly giggled at your antics. Round and round you went until a judgmental voice interrupted your fun.

"Having fun, #24?"

You gripped the desk, stopping the chair from spinning. Slowly, the room returned to its normal state. There stood the other three managers, each staring at you and Mayu. Unfazed, you stared right back, refusing to cower beneath their gazes.

"I was until you ruined it, #23." You said, making a point to emphasize Tanaka's rank. After all, one little slip was all you needed to drag her down from her high horse.

Tanaka glared at you, causing Mayu to nervously glance between the two of you. Onoda retreated to the couch, ignoring everyone. She had a dejected look on her face, a result of her team's failure to secure any more wins. Meanwhile, Matsukawa pranced around the room, inspecting the new additions.

"Wow~ All of this looks super expensive!"

Suddenly, the lobby's screen turned on to display Anri.

“Good morning, everyone.” A chorus of greetings rang out to the woman. “As I’m sure you are all aware, the final match in Wing 5 ended yesterday.”

Excitement and dread filled the room as everyone anticipated the revealing of the final rankings.

“At the last manager’s meeting, Ego stated there were three exams left. As of today, two of the three have been completed.”

She’s right! I completely forgot because of the celebration.

“But the matches are already over. How do we still have an exam left?” Onoda asked, frustration clear on her face.

"Remember, the managers are separate from the players. Not everything will align or be evaluated the same." Anri said, sweeping her gaze across the five of you.

"The reason you have one more exam is because it is your final exam; a combination of everything you have learned until now, not just from the textbooks, but from each of your team's matches."

The revelation elicited different reactions.

Mayu simply took it in stride, writing something in her notes. Onoda had a glimmer of hope in her eyes. It was one last chance to snag a spot in the top three. Tanaka frowned, displeased at having to protect her position one more time. Matsukawa looked bored, even yawning.

You, on the other hand, were scared. This was it. This was the opportunity you needed to come from behind and place within the top three. Yet the fact that it hinged on a cumulative exam frightened you. Tests weren't your forte; not in elementary school, junior high, and definitely not now.

But what other choice do I have?

Anri continued. "The final exam will be held in twenty-four hours." Gasps rang out from everyone, including you.

Twenty-four hours?! That's way too quick a turnaround!

Unfazed by everyone's reaction, Anri continued. "How you choose to use that time is up to you, aside from one restriction."

You mentally braced yourself, expecting the worst.

"You are not to interact with any of the players until the final exam is completed and final rankings are revealed. Anyone who breaks this rule will be eliminated. Am I clear?"

Mayu's hand shot up. “D-does this mean we’re no l-longer their managers?”

Anri answered Mayu's question with ease. "That is correct."

Your eyes widened.

No way...

You had always known that you wouldn't be Team Z's manager forever, but you hadn't expected it to end this abruptly. To be honest, it made you a little sad.

“We will coordinate specific times for managers to eat, shower, and sleep. We will ensure you do not cross paths with the players during this period. Are there any more questions?”

Seeing no other hands rise, Anri said her goodbyes before the screen went dark. A twenty-four-hour timer appeared with a miniature timer underneath representing the time until breakfast.

You turned to Mayu and whispered. “We’ve got thirty minutes till breakfast. What do you wanna do?”

Mayu's brows pulled together in deep thought. "How about we prepare our study areas? That way we'll be ready to start once we finish eating breakfast."

You nodded and got to work. The other managers watched, eventually doing the same, not wanting to fall behind.

Getting set up took longer than you thought, with only a couple of minutes left until it was time to eat. You admired your study area with pride. It was equipped with dual monitors, plus your laptop. On the screen was a folder containing all your notes, match recordings, and daily reports.

Off to the side was your tablet. You planned to use it as your primary note-taker, creating a new document specifically dedicated to this exam. Typing was faster on an actual keyboard, but you found that writing things down helped the material stick better.

Finally, you had scoured the bookshelves for anything that could be helpful. Mayu had pitched in for that one, knowing what to specifically look for.

The timer rang, indicating it was time for breakfast. Just in time too, as your stomach let out a growl. Together, you and Mayu headed toward the cafeteria, carrying your tablets.

The hallways were eerily quiet, not a single player to be seen.

“What do you think they’re doing right now?” You asked, voice hushed. “Surely, they’re not just giving them a break.”

Mayu shook her head. “Definitely not. I don’t think the phrase “a break” exists in Blue Lock.

The cafeteria doors slid open. Inside, the other managers sat scattered and quiet.

Setting your tablet down, you grabbed your tray and selected the usual breakfast items. You had barely taken your first bite when a notification pinged from your tablet.

Managers, attached are the previous exams. Feel free to use them as study material, but note that none of the questions will be repeated.

Your eyes lit up as you caught Mayu's attention. She mirrored your excitement, both of you recognizing the goldmine you'd just been handed. What followed was the most productive breakfast of your life as you and Mayu reviewed every question you'd previously gotten wrong.

"See, the key here is understanding the situational leadership model." Mayu explained patiently, sketching a quick diagram on a napkin while you frantically scribbled notes between sips of miso.

By the time you returned to the lobby-turned-study room, you felt energized and focused. With Mayu’s help, you crafted a detailed twelve-hour study plan, dividing your time into three strategic areas: foundational concepts, match analysis, and practical team management experience.

Each hour had a specific focus, creating a roadmap you hoped would guide you to success. Taking a deep breath, you tucked your hair behind your ears and dove in.

The first two hours flew by effortlessly, a review of fundamental theories you could practically recite from memory. Hours three and four proved more challenging. You analyzed match footage from each team, notes becoming increasingly frantic as you documented tactical decisions, interventions, and applicable theoretical frameworks.

The sheer volume of information felt overwhelming.

Just as frustration began to creep in, Mayu appeared at your shoulder with a perfectly organized notebook.

"These might help." She said, sliding her meticulously categorized team notes across your desk.

Grateful beyond words, you flipped through her color-coded sections and bullet-pointed notes. Time passed quickly as you became absorbed in the analysis. Before you knew it, the lunch timer was chiming, but that didn’t stop the studying.

“Could you explain this question?” You pointed to one of the questions.

24. A leader may be likely to delegate tasks and not engage in many of these tasks on their own. This could indicate a leader is a:

A. Delegator

B. Participant

C. Seller

D. Teller

“I put A as my answer because it mentions delegating tasks right in the question, but I got it wrong.”

Mayu took a quick peek at the question and nodded. "This one's a bit tricky. The key part to focus on is the level of engagement. A delegator will delegate tasks but still engage in actions. Based on the information provided, the answer is B."

“Wait, wait, repeat the second thing you said, please!” You pleaded, stylus at the ready this time.

Mayu giggled, doing as asked. Soon, you were back in the room on hour five. Everyone was still going strong, save for a quick break here and there.

Hours five and six were dedicated to Team Z. You reviewed their initial statistics, profiles, watched their matches, and read up on your daily reports. Part of you couldn't believe how far Team Z and you had come.

Wow, it’s hard to believe Isagi was ranked second to last.

The striker had undergone incredible growth, even becoming the heart of your team. Your chest swelled with pride, remembering everything Team Z had been through.

“Alright, let’s do this!” You whispered to yourself, getting right back to studying.

For hours seven and eight, you pivoted. On the computers, there was a folder containing past matches from several international tournaments.

The World Cup, Euros, Copa America…there’s so many!

You clicked on a random one from Euros and watched notes at the ready. At first, you were able to keep up, but soon you fell behind. Your hand cramped at how fast you had to write, and your writing quickly turned to chicken scratch.

Sighing in frustration, you had to rewind several times to accurately analyze the plays.

Professionals really are in another league of their own, especially that buzz cut man.

You strained your ears trying to catch what his name could be from the in-game announcers. It was difficult given the amount of cheers that erupted when he scored a goal. Finally, you managed to catch it.

Noel Noa, got it!

Satisfied, you stretched, spine cracking, and gazed up at the ceiling. Dinner was still two hours away, and fatigue was creeping in. You were honestly impressed with yourself for lasting eight hours straight.

Around the room, the other managers were locked in their own rhythm. Mayu watched Team X’s match with that rare hawk-like intensity. Tanaka flipped through a tactics book, and Matsukawa hovered at the printer. Onoda stood by the coffee cart, stirring her drink.

…Coffee?

Coffee.

Coffee!

Your chair rattled as you bolted up, grabbing a cup of coffee and gleefully ripping open four sugar packets. You drowned the brew with milk from the mini fridge, humming in bliss.

Onoda’s voice broke through your glee. “What are you doing?”

You blinked at her, still stirring. “Making coffee?”

She scoffed. “You call that coffee? You practically ruined it with the amount of sugar and milk.”

Shrugging, you returned to your desk. “I hate bitter stuff.”

Taking a sip of your coffee, you sighed with bliss.

Perfectly sweet, as it should be.

Rejuvenated, hours nine and ten flew by with active recall drills. Your memory held surprisingly strong, a hopeful sign for the upcoming exam.

The timer went off for the third time that day, signaling dinnertime. This time, you chose to leave your tablet behind. You needed the break.

Across from Mayu, you poked at your salad. “Since we’re not team managers anymore, is it okay to talk about them?”

Mayu paused, glancing up from her tablet. “Hmm, I think so, but maybe we should wait until Anri or Ego says something officially.”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s not get eliminated over a technicality.”

With just two hours left in your study marathon, you were unsure what to focus on next. Afterwards, you would most likely shower and head to bed, not wanting to overdo it on the studying.

“Haru?”

The call of your name pulled you back to reality. Too deep in your thoughts, you failed to notice that you and Mayu were the only ones left in the study room.

“The others left?” You asked, somewhat surprised to see them tap out. If anything, you thought you’d be the first to leave.

“Yes, I think Matsukawa was finished for the day. The other two wanted to finish studying in their rooms.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.”

Mayu rose from her chair, taking her tablet with her. “Would you like to talk through the study material one last time before we call it a day?”

You jumped at the opportunity to learn more from your friend and top-ranked manager. You plopped down onto the couch and patted the spot next to you, eager to get started.

Honestly, it was amazing how far ahead she was of you in terms of academic prowess.

“Seriously, how are you so good at this?” You asked, eyes wide at her near-perfect test scores.

She flushed. “Thank you, but I truly believe anyone can do well with the right methods and support.”

You raised a skeptical brow. “That’s exactly what a straight-A student would say.”

Doodling on your tablet, you asked, “Where’d you go to school anyway?”

She leaned over, giggling as she added a smiley face to your scribbled soccer ball. “A private all-girls academy in Shizuoka.”

You shot up, jaw agape. “No way! You’re not too far from me then!” Seeing Mayu’s surprised expression, you continued. “I live in Saitama. We could even meet in Tokyo if we wanted to!”

Pleased with your discovery, you rambled on about exploring the city or introducing her to your cheer squad. Mayu listened intently, her soft smile never wavering.

“They’d love you, I’m sure of it!” You declared, cheeks pink with excitement.

“O-okay.” She mumbled, fiddling with her fingers. “But promise you won’t leave me alone? I get nervous around new people…”

You reached out, pinky extended. “I won’t. Promise.”

Her fingers stilled. She hooked her pinky around yours, smile growing.

“Then it’s a promise.”

Steam rose around you as water cascaded down your skin, the heat soothing every worn muscle and washing away the weight of the day. As you scrubbed shampoo through your hair, your mind wandered to Team Z.

They were probably deep in routine without you. Training, eating, and preparing. Now that the first selection was done, the second couldn’t be far off.

What does the second selection even look like?

You imagined Ego’s voice echoing across the facility, unveiling some new twisted challenge. Whatever it was, it’d push them further.

Stepping out, you wrapped a towel around yourself and drifted over to the mirror. With a swipe, you cleared the steam and stared at your reflection.

At lunch, Mayu had casually mentioned that it’d been a month since Blue Lock began. You’d nearly choked, shocked by how fast time had passed

Physically, not much had changed. Maybe your hair had grown a bit. Inside though, you could feel pieces of you starting to change.

At first, hearing the rumors start to swirl frightened you. The fear of being misjudged, misunderstood – What if the others heard? What would they think?

But enough was enough.

You were done letting whispers dictate your emotions. Let people say what they want. Believe what they will. You’d face it all, every triumph and mistake, without flinching.

Mom, dad…Your daughter’s going to rise above it all. Just watch.

You gathered your belongings, towel slung over your shoulder, and walked out with quiet resolve.

Tomorrow was a new day.

One that would determine your fate in Blue Lock.

Chapter Text

Nausea rolled through your stomach in waves. From the moment you opened your eyes this morning, your insides had been twisting and turning. The final exam loomed ahead like a storm, dreary and ominous.

Even now, as you tried to steady yourself, your fingers trembled as you worked the green ribbon into your hair. The tiny clovers embroidered across its surface for good luck did little to soothe you.

Still, I'll take every bit of luck I can get.

You lightly slapped your cheeks, heat blooming across your face.

Focus. That's all I need to do.

The email that had arrived an hour ago flickered in your mind. The exam would take place in the manager's lobby, turned study area. It would be a digital exam to be completed on a secure browser.

The email had emphasized the zero tolerance for cheating.

As if anyone would risk everything this close to the end.

Pumping yourself up, you headed down to the manager's lobby.

At least that was the plan.

To get there, you needed to go through the maze of hallways past the training rooms. As you walked down the hallways, certain familiar voices rang out.

“Uurgh, I’m so sore.”

Your heart pounded as a bead of sweat trailed down your face. Imamura's voice was unmistakable even with its exhausted tone.

"This is too much... and every day?"

Naruhaya now, weariness bleeding clear in every word.

"I miss Ishika-chan..."

Bachira's whine was the final confirmation.

Without thinking, you pressed yourself against the wall, praying the floor would swallow you whole. Your heartbeat thundered so loudly you were certain they'd hear it.

Please don't see me. Please don't see me.

The shuffle of footsteps and murmur of voices gradually faded, leaving only the sound of your breathing. You counted to thirty before daring to peek around the corner.

They’re gone.

Relief flooded you, but it quickly turned into panic. Your tablet felt like lead in your hands as you stared at the blank screen, dreading the notification that would seal your fate.

Thirty seconds.

One minute.

Two minutes that stretched into five before your shoulders finally sagged with relief.

Guess near-miss proximity doesn’t count as an interaction. Thank god.

As much as you cared for Team Z, you absolutely did not want to get eliminated this close to the second selection for a dumb rule break.

But their voices lingered with you, heavy with exhaustion that went beyond typical training fatigue. You'd heard them complain before, but never like this. They sounded completely drained.

What kind of hell are they going through that has all three of them ready to collapse?

The question gnawed at you as you continued toward the exam room, but there was no time to dwell on it. Whatever brutal regimen they were undergoing would have to remain a mystery.

You had your own survival to worry about.

The scent of coffee hit your nose as you stepped inside the converted exam room, buzzing with nervous energy. The other managers had already claimed their stations, fingers flying across keyboards in preparation for the exam. You took your seat next to Mayu, nervously greeting her as you fumbled with the cables to connect your laptop to the dual monitors.

"Do you have any last-minute questions about the content?" Mayu's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the kind of steady confidence you envied. Not a trace of worry marred her features, as if she were asking about your day rather than an exam that could end everything.

Your answer came out strangled, pitched too high. "Oh, uh... no?" The uncertainty in your voice was obvious.

The exam browser loaded with agonizing slowness. "It's more like, if I study anymore, I'll start second-guessing everything I know."

Your palms left damp prints on your pants as you frantically wiped them.

Why is it so hot in here?

"We've prepared thoroughly for this." Mayu said, an encouraging smile on her face. "You can do this. I know you can!"

You forced yourself to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

She's right. I've done everything I possibly could.

The final minutes crawled by until the timer hit zero. A loud beep echoed through the room, followed by an automated announcement.

"Managers of Wing 5 – Your exam is now available. You have two hours. Please begin."

Your cursor hovered over the start button.

No turning back now.

With a prayer to the exam gods, you clicked start.

Immediately, your stomach dropped.

Which of the following best describes environmental scanning?

a. Forecasting and scanning the likely result that might occur when several events and stakeholders are linked together

b. A tool where key variables are monitored and modeled to help predict a change that might occur in the environment

c. The ability to understand the impact of environmental factors on an organization and the ability to understand how to influence those same factors

d. A tool that managers use to scan the horizon for key events and trends that will affect the business in the future

I’m screwed.

A groan escaped your lips as you collapsed face-first into your pillow, arms wrapping around it tightly. The exam had been brutal – a carefully orchestrated destruction of everything you thought you knew. The first question was more difficult than you expected, and it had only gotten worse from there.

At one point, staring at a particularly tough multiple-choice question, you'd considered closing your eyes and letting fate decide. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe seemed like a valid strategy when faced with a wall of statistics for one single question.

Thank everything holy for Mayu's notes.

Most questions became solvable rather than impossible because of her meticulous documentation. The only issue was remembering the amount of details provided. Not to mention that most questions were written so that a single inclusion or exclusion of a word could completely change the answer.

‘Always’ versus ‘usually’.

‘Effective’ versus ‘optimal’.

‘Should’ versus ‘must’.

The revelation had hit you thirty minutes in, sending you into a frantic review session that probably saved your grade but massively put you behind. One by one, the other managers finished, each departure announcing their dismissal back to their respective rooms.

You'd been the last one in the room, fingers cramped around your mouse. You double and triple-checked answers while anxiety brewed in your stomach. Now, you lay sprawled across your bed, feeling defeated and exhausted.

All I can do now is wait.

The post-exam email had been rather clear.

Managers, final rankings will be announced in three hours. Please use this time to pack your belongings. Two managers will be eliminated.

No sugar-coating and no false encouragement.

There wasn't much to pack, but you needed a distraction. Anything to stop your mind from reviewing every questionable choice you had made.

The wardrobe opened with a soft creak. It was the garment bags that caught your attention, hanging there untouched. Despite the long thirty days, you never had a reason to wear the professional attire.

Curiosity won you over. Unzipping, the garment bag revealed a perfectly coordinated outfit: a navy blazer, black button-up, matching slacks, and skirt. A pair of black, expensive-looking tights hung over the skirt.

What’s the harm in a little dress-up?

Giggling, you switched out the tracksuit for the new outfit. The skirt fit perfectly, the button-up crisp against your skin. You admired yourself in the mirror and gave an experimental spin.

"Not too shabby!"

The heels added two inches to your height. Low enough for comfort but high enough to add authority to your figure. As you slipped on the blazer to complete the ensemble, something shifted in your posture.

You straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. The girl staring back in the mirror looked composed and capable. Someone worthy of being called a manager.

The next three hours endlessly dragged on. You'd changed back into your tracksuit as you found ways to spend the time. You had already packed and unpacked twice. There was only so much to reorganize before you grew bored.

At some point, you'd slipped the heels back on just to test how high you could jump in them. Mid-jump, your tablet pinged.

The three hours were up.

The screen came to life without warning, nearly sending you toppling backward in surprise. Anri’s composed features materialized, her voice clear as a bell.

"Good afternoon, managers. The exams have been graded and calculated alongside the other ranking factors."

Your legs gave out. The bed caught you as your knees buckled, springs creaking under the sudden weight.

This was it.

Countless sleepless nights, meticulous reports, and strategic analysis boiled down to the next few minutes.

"As a reminder, rankings incorporate your daily reports, exam performance, team feedback, and overall execution of managerial duties."

Your hands bunched in the fabric of your pants, knuckles going rigid with tension.

"Let us begin." Anri summoned three slots onto the screen, empty and waiting.

"First place, with a total managerial score of 97 points – Miss Miyano Mayu."

Your gasp was audible.

97 points?!

Mayu had always been good, but this was above and beyond good. Pride swelled in your chest alongside a stab of anxiety.

What if the others were that good? Where did that leave you?

"Second place, with a total score of 93 points – Miss Matsukawa Ayaka."

You squeezed your eyes shut.

One spot left.

There was an obvious pattern. Mayu first and Matsukawa second, just like the previous rankings. Which meant Tanaka, who'd held onto third place, would be…

"Third place, with a total score of 92 points – Miss Ishikawa Miharu."

You nearly stopped breathing. Your name was on the screen, glowing like a beacon of hope. Your hands flew to your face as if to catch the sob that threatened to escape, fingers trembling against your cheeks.

"I made it..." The words barely registered as your own voice, small and disbelieving.

Reality crashed over you like a wave.

"I made it!!!" The shout tore from your throat as you launched yourself off the bed, heels clicking against the floor as you jumped up and down. Against all odds, you had snuck your way into the top three.

"In your face, Tanaka!" The words burst out before you could catch them. She'd been so certain of her superiority, so rude in her dismissals. Let her choke on her arrogance now.

Your spirits dimmed as Anri's voice cut through your celebration. "Miss Tanaka and Miss Onoda. You are no longer needed. Please collect your belongings and exit the facility. Letters of recommendation will be provided upon departure."

The dismissal hit like a bucket of ice water. You could have easily been in one of their places – eliminated and no longer a part of Blue Lock.

"The three surviving managers will break for lunch. Report to the lobby in one hour for a briefing."

The screen went black, leaving no room for questions.

Your hands shook as you kicked off the heels, muscle memory guiding you into practical shoes while your mind reeled. The corridor outside your room would soon echo with the sound of footsteps and muffled tears.

But not me.

No, not me.

With new resolve, you made your way to the cafeteria. Each step felt weightless, light with the kind of giddiness that made you want to laugh at nothing and everything.

I made it! I made it!!

"Haru!"

Mayu's voice cut through your internal victory celebration. She stood near the cafeteria’s entrance, glowing with the same happiness that coursed through your veins.

"Mayu!" Your arms wrapped tightly around her, giggling with unrestrained joy. “We did it! We actually did it!"

A laugh bubbled out of her as she gently hugged you back. "I knew we would!”

"Oooh, how sweet ~ Room for one more?"

Matsukawa stood in the doorway, her smile full of condescension. Her nails tapped on her tablet as she stared at the two of you.

You and Mayu broke apart, turning to face the third surviving manager.

"H-hello, Matsukawa." Mayu's voice wobbled slightly. "Congratulations on p-passing."

"Thank you, Miya-chan!" The nickname rolled off Matsukawa's tongue with practiced sweetness that somehow made it sound like an insult. Mayu's fingers found the hem of her sleeves, scrunching the fabric in a telltale sign of her discomfort.

"And Ishi-chan!" Those predatory eyes fixed on you next. "92 points. Barely scraped by, didn't you?"

The familiar sting of her mockery sparked something hot and defensive in your chest. All previous politeness was gone.

"Rich coming from someone only one point ahead." Your voice carried a harsh quality that surprised even you.

Her smile faltered for a second before it came back sharper than before. "A point’s a point. However you spin it, you're dead last among us."

"And however you spin it." You shot back. "My team is advancing to the next stage. Yours isn't."

Her expression soured instantly, the pretty mask slipping to reveal something uglier underneath. Without another word, she stalked away to claim a table in the far corner, her tray clattering with more force than necessary.

You crossed your arms, watching her sulk. "I can't believe we're stuck with her.”

Mayu managed a weak smile. "If we can't count on her, we can at least rely on each other."

Food became your next priority – an absolute must in preparation for whatever lay ahead. Thanks to your boosted ranking, the salad was gone and replaced by mackerel. It made your mouth water just by looking at it.

You scarfed down your meal with enthusiasm, having skipped breakfast due to nerves. Each bite felt like a small celebration. A reward for surviving the first selection.

"I hope we get to see our players today." Mayu softly dabbed at her mouth, ever the picture of composure even while eating.

You swallowed your bite of food before responding. "God, me too." A quick glance around the cafeteria confirmed Matsukawa was still sulking in her corner, well out of earshot.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Actually, I ran into some of mine this morning in the hallway."

Mayu's chopsticks froze halfway to her mouth, eyes widening with alarm.

"They didn't see me!" You rushed to clarify, watching her shoulders relax. "But they sounded completely exhausted. I've never heard them like that before. Not even Bachira could muster his usual energy."

"Ego must be pushing them harder than usual." Mayu set down her chopsticks, brow furrowing with concern. "But how much harder could it possibly be?"

The two of you grimaced, imagining the hell they were going through while you’d been hunched over textbooks and practice exams. Your imagination filled in the blanks with increasingly creative training regimes. "Okay, what if they're doing partner exercises? Like push-ups, but with another player on your back?"

Mayu was swept up in your speculation, coming up with ideas of her own. “Or obstacle courses where they have to dribble the ball the entire time?

The theories grew more elaborate as you walked toward the managers' lobby, each scenario more outlandish than the last.

"Maybe they're doing fitness drills, but they have to do it blindfolded?” You proposed settling onto the familiar couch beside Mayu.

A small gasp escaped Mayu. “That sounds dangerous!”

The screen flickered to life before you could propose your next theory. Anri's face appeared on the display, effectively ending your speculation session.

"Good afternoon, managers. Congratulations on advancing to the next phase of this project. Detailed score breakdowns will be distributed this evening for your review."

You perked up, eager to see how your score was calculated. Feedback meant improvement opportunities, and you'd need every advantage moving forward.

"Effective yesterday, all surviving Wing #5 players entered intensive strength conditioning. They are strictly prohibited from touching a soccer ball during this period." Anri's tone was deadly serious. “Violation of this rule or refusal to participate in the conditioning results in immediate elimination."

Yikes, that’s harsh.

"Until conditioning is finished, your expanded responsibilities will include comprehensive monitoring of all remaining players in wing #5. This means data collection, progress tracking, performance analysis, and ensuring player health. Each day, we expect a report detailing the day’s events.”

You stole a glance at Matsukawa, who stood near the bookshelf. Her arms were crossed as she hung onto Anri’s every word. The prospect of forced collaboration made you frown, but you’d put aside any petty squabbles for the sake of the team.

"The updated managerial rules and regulations are now available for review. Make yourselves familiar with them and begin your duties."

The screen went dark, leaving the three of you in sudden, awkward silence.

Matsukawa broke it with an exasperated sigh, examining her manicured nails with disappointment. "Guess I was the only one smart enough to bring my tablet."

Her smile was lined with saccharine sweetness as she sauntered to the control panel. "I suppose I'll have to share with you two ~”

You bit back a retort. None of it would have been productive.

Instead, you focused on the screen as it lit up with the updated rulebook, determined not to give her the reaction she was fishing for.

Blue Lock Manager & Player Regulations

Confidentiality and Conduct

[] Managers are prohibited from giving preferential or discriminatory treatment to any player.

[] Managers are prohibited from indirectly or directly aiding in a player’s efforts to sabotage or cheat.

[] Managers will be disciplined for failure to act in the best interest of all players.

Restricted Access and Boundaries

[] Managers may not remain in the players’ communal sleeping quarters from 10:00 p.m to 6:00 a.m under any circumstances.

[] Players are strictly forbidden from entering any manager’s private quarters, except in rare emergency cases. Managers are allowed in each other’s sleeping quarters.

[] Players and managers are prohibited from entering each other’s bathroom facilities, except in emergency situations.

Violence and Disciplinary Actions

[] All forms of violence from and to managers will result in immediate disqualification from the project.

[] Physical player-on-player violence will be subject to varying punishments, depending on the severity of the harm inflicted.

[] Harmful verbal abuse, harassment, or intimidation toward managers or players will be reviewed, with consequences ranging from warnings to expulsion.

[] Tampering with equipment or purposeful disruption of another team’s training will not be tolerated.

Performance and Training Expectations

[] Managers are responsible for evaluating all players' development through objective analysis and tracking progress.

[] Managers have the authority to assign individual or group drills for improvement.

[] Players may appeal training methods if deemed unreasonable, but appeals must go through official review channels.

[] Any attempts to undermine the training process, such as refusing to participate without a valid reason, may result in a penalty or disciplinary measures.

Professionalism and Compliance

[] Managers and players must comply with all official Blue Lock directives.

[] Managers must report serious infractions or conflicts to Blue Lock officials immediately.

[] Players who consistently fail to follow manager directives will face consequences that may impact their ranking.

[] Any unauthorized leaks of information related to Blue Lock operations will result in immediate expulsion.

The regulations were mostly unchanged with minor tweaks here and there. Your lips quirked upwards as your eyes landed on a brand-new clause buried in the conduct section.

Yeah, that’s 100% aimed at Matsukawa.

"Everything appears rather straightforward." Mayu said as she finished reading over the rulebook. "How about we move on to managing the remaining players?"

You sorted through everyone left. “We’ve got the three lone survivors: Niko, Barou, and…” You paused, trying to remember which Wanima twin had made it through.

"Junichi." Matsukawa supplied with obvious reluctance. "The slightly less irritating one."

“Right. So three individuals, plus eleven from my team, and eleven from Mayu’s. That makes twenty-five total.” You said.

Matsukawa’s lip curled in disgust. “As much as it pains me to say, the smart move is for you two to stick with your teams.”

Mayu nodded, then glanced toward Matsukawa with careful politeness. "Would you be overseeing the three others?"

“Obviously.” Matsukawa scowled. ”Let me be clear, though. I expect to be included in everything. Full briefings, shared reports, and equal say across the board.”

The scowl melted into a smile: sweet, saccharine, and so obviously fake it made you frown.

“If I catch even a hint of you two trying to sideline me…” Her gaze gleamed dangerously. “I’ll make sure you regret it ~ Got it, Mayu-chan? Ishi-chan?”

Irritation grew inside you, but you kept your voice level. "Trust me, I don’t plan on using any underhanded tactics.” You held her stare, refusing to back down and be intimidated.

The air between you crackled with tension.

Mayu cleared her throat, fidgeting nervously. "M-maybe we should h-head to the training areas now? W-We can meet here after d-dinner to share updates."

"Works for me." You said, still holding your ground.

"Sounds like a plan!" Matsukawa’s smile remained plastered on her face, and her narrowed eyes stayed locked on you.

The standoff could have lasted forever, but you had better things to do than engage in petty power plays.

You stood first.

"I'll see you both after dinner then." The words came out cooler than intended, but you didn't correct yourself.

You gave Mayu a reassuring smile, then turned your back on Matsukawa without a second glance. Behind you came the sound of Mayu’s relieved sigh and Matsukawa’s smug little giggle.

A stupid staring contest isn’t worth my energy.

You’d win where it mattered most and on your own terms, with your head held high.

Chapter Text

Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway as you sprinted toward Team Z's training room, tablet clutched in one hand, water bottle in the other. You were more than ready to get back to work.

Skidding to a stop just outside the door, your chest heaved. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you smoothed down your tracksuit and straightened your shoulders. No matter how harsh Ego's training regime was, you'd support them through it all. It was your duty as Wing #5's manager and Team Z's personal cheerleader.

Seriously, how can I not have favorites after spending an entire month with them? Well, as long as I don’t show any favoritism, everything should be fine.

As the door slid open, the smell of sweat and exhaustion hit you. It hung thick in the air, joined by the sound of heavy breathing. Taking in the scene, you noticed every single member of Team Z sprawled across exercise mats, deep into core exercises. From planks, crunches, to Russian twists – even Igaguri was hard at work, his face twisted in a mix of pain and concentration.

You stood frozen in the doorway, mouth agape at the intensity of the room. Before you could process what you were seeing, something warm and solid crashed into your side. You stumbled backward, nearly dropping everything.

"Ishika-chan!" Bachira's arms wrapped around you in a tight side hug, his entire body radiating heat from exercising. His bangs stuck to his forehead in damp clumps, but his eyes sparkled with familiar brightness.

A laugh bubbled out from you, and you hugged him back despite the sweaty state he was in. "I'm back!"

Within seconds, the rest of Team Z swarmed around you, looking exhausted but excited to see you. Questions flew from every direction, voices overlapping and impossible to answer as the barrage continued.

"Alright, enough!" You held up both arms, gesturing for them to back up. "I’m calling for an official break. Sit down and I'll answer everything."

Surprisingly, they listened without argument, except for the muttering from Raichi that you’d come to expect. They grabbed their water bottles and settled into a loose circle on the floor. You joined them, cross-legged in the center.

Unable to help himself, Imamura was the first to blurt out a question. "Where were you? We seriously thought you got eliminated! You just disappeared after our celebration.”

You puffed out your chest, grinning with pride. "Nope! You're looking at one of three surviving managers from Wing #5."

"Three?" Isagi leaned forward, curiosity lighting his features. "Who else made it?"

"Miyano Mayu from Team V." Your grin widened in happiness for your friend before souring slightly. "And Matsukawa Ayaka from Team W."

Kunigami raised a brow, looking less than pleased by the revelation. "I’m surprised she didn’t get booted for letting that cheating situation slide."

“You better not get any funny ideas.” Raichi shot a dirty look at Kuon, who immediately averted his gaze.

"I'm not doing anything like that again." Kuon muttered. "I swear."

"Ease up on him.” You said, feeling slightly bad for the guy. “There's actually a new rule specifically to prevent situations like that from happening again."

"Good." Chigiri said coolly. "It should've been that way from the start."

"Agreed, but better late than never." You nodded, then snapped your fingers as you remembered something important. "Oh! That reminds me. There've been some changes to how management works now that the first selection's over."

All eyes locked onto you.

"We're not team managers anymore. We're wing managers now."

"Whaaaaaat?" Bachira's face fell into an exaggerated pout, his whole body dramatically slumping. "We just got you back, and you're not even our manager anymore?"

"I guess it makes sense." Isagi said, though he looked disappointed too. "They’re probably preparing you for the next managerial selection.”

"That doesn't mean I have to like it, Isagi." Bachira whined.

"Trust me, if it were up to me, I'd stay as Team Z's manager.” You shrugged, sharing his disappointment. “On the bright side, the three of us talked it over and decided to stick with the teams we already know, so you're all stuck with me a while longer."

Naruhaya snickered, taking a long gulp of water before wiping his mouth. "That's our line. Please keep taking care of us!"

"Yeah!" Imamura pumped his fist. "We're counting on you!"

The others echoed their agreement, and even Raichi joined in, though he needed some prodding from the others.

You lifted your tablet, pretending to check something, to hide your blush. "Alright, alright, moving on now. I heard about Ego's conditioning plan for you all." You lowered the tablet, meeting their gazes with a stern expression. "So let's get back to it."

Numerous groans erupted around the circle alongside complaints about Ego's cruelty and loud whines about needing a break. Yet, they were already standing, moving back to their mats. As they did, you pulled up the training regime sent to you earlier.

Your stomach dropped as you scrolled through it.

Holy crap, this is way more than just harsh. It’s brutal!

The schedule was nonstop – endurance sets, core training, weight training, and sprints. All without a break until dinnertime at 8 PM. Eleven hours of continuous conditioning. You glanced up at your team, seeing the determination on every face.

If they could endure this, you could support them through it.

You'd quickly come to realize over the following days that brutal was an understatement.

Each morning, your alarm blared at 6:30 AM sharp, a bit earlier than necessary to get yourself ready for the day. A quick shower and pep talk were all you needed before you were on your way to Team Z’s sleeping quarters. At 7 AM sharp, you barged in, shaking the shoulders and ripping off the blankets of anyone who stubbornly refused to get up.

By 8 AM, you had herded them all into the cafeteria, making sure they fueled up for the grueling day ahead. Thirty minutes later, everyone was stretching. You'd lead them through a comprehensive routine, walking between them to check form, pressing gently on tight muscles, and reminding them to breathe. With how exhaustive the training was, you needed them limber for the day, lest they hurt themselves

The real work began the second the clock hit 9 AM, beginning with merciless endurance sets. Two-hour sets of high-intensity interval training that had them running on the treadmill until their legs were shaking. The training room filled with the sound of panting and your voice calling out encouragement.

You were constantly moving, whether it was refilling water bottles, running to hand them out, or making notes on your tablet about who was struggling and who was improving. You had to be thorough in your data collection for the report; otherwise, you’d bring the others down. This meant recording everything from pace to hydration intake.

By 11 AM, the training room smelled like a locker room. Sweat ran down everyone’s faces, dripping onto the treadmills. You made sure to check in with them, helping relieve some cramps by massaging wherever they hurt. It wasn’t much, but it was the least you could do.

The endurance sets ended at 1 PM, and the relief on their faces was palpable. They collapsed onto the floor, staring at the ceiling with their chests heaving. Thankfully, they received a much-needed lunch break after the intense training.

The hour break flew by, and much too soon, it was back to training, focusing on the core, then switching over to weight training at 4 PM. By then, everyone was starting to run out of steam, faces in constant. Even Raichi, by far the most physically resilient of the group, was struggling.

By 6 PM, when they moved onto sprints, everyone was running on fumes and sheer willpower. They were stumbling, form breaking down, and times getting slower. Honestly, you were surprised only Igaguri had thrown up so far, or that no one had passed out yet.

The second it was 8 PM, several of them collapsed on the spot. Only after taking a break on the floor did they trudge out of the room to grab dinner or take a shower.

As tired as you were, you couldn’t rest yet. Ego and Anri expected a report on the day’s progress. The report itself wasn't the time-consuming part. You'd all gotten efficient at the actual writing after a month of daily submissions. You had templates and quick ways to format the data. The real time sink was going through all the collected data first.

Each manager had tracked multiple metrics throughout the day. Completion times for exercises, hydration intake, form quality, injury incidents, and the usual observations. All of it needed to be compiled, analyzed, and translated into meaningful progress reports. It didn’t help that the three of you were tired from the long day of support. Still, you took a bit of solace in knowing it wasn’t just you suffering.

Once the report was submitted, the three of you parted ways. Only then could you wind your day down with a shower and shortly thereafter collapse into bed. Sleep quickly pulled you under, until your alarm screamed at you the next day to do it all over again.

Truly, it was hell.

By day seven, you were starting to wonder if the training would ever end. It had been a particularly harsh day. A few of the guys, namely Isagi and Naruhayu, were unable to bear eating. Others, such as Igaguri and Imamura, simply threw up what they had eaten, rendering the meals pointless.

It wasn’t just them, though. Everyone was feeling the effects of the training, especially with no rest days. It was a miracle no one had suffered an injury with how much they were training. Still, you made sure to keep an eye on Chigiri’s knee. It’d be awful if he suffered under your watch.

Despite the toll the regime was taking on them, no one threw in the towel. After all, Ego’s orders were absolute. Follow the training or be locked off.

Nobody wanted that.

"Alright, that's it for today!" You called out, voice hoarse and cracking from hours of shouting over the noise of training. "Do some quick cool-down stretches and you can go!"

The collective sigh of relief that swept through the room was loud enough to hear. Several players simply collapsed where they stood. Gagamaru slid down the wall, Iemon sprawled flat on his back, and Isagi bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

They moved like zombies through the stretching routine, movements sluggish and uncoordinated. You walked among them out of habit now, helping adjust positions that had gone sloppy with exhaustion.

Kunigami reached for his water bottle with shaking hands, nearly dropping it before managing to bring it to his lips. He took a long gulp before lowering it with a heavy sigh. "This is exhausting."

Gagamaru, still slumped against the wall like all the strength was sapped out of him, lifted his head just enough to look at you. His breathing was coming in slightly wheezy gasps. "Are we at least making progress?"

Every head in the room swiveled toward you. Even Bachira, who'd been lying flat on a mat staring at the ceiling, propped himself up on his elbows to expectantly look at you. The intensity of their collective gaze startled you, eyes boring into you like you held the secret to whether the training had any meaning. In a way, you did.

Your hands fumbled with your tablet, nearly dropping it in your haste to pull up the stats. The screen lit up, displaying the data you'd been meticulously tracking all day.

"Yes!" The word came out louder than intended. You cleared your throat and tried again. "Yes, absolutely. Overall, everyone's stats have increased by four percent since we started the conditioning training."

For a second, there was absolute silence, until a loud screech shattered it.

"What?!" Igaguri lurched upright from his stretch, clutching his head with both hands in a gesture of pure frustration. "Only four percent?! That's all this harsh training has gotten us?!"

"Igagu–" You started, but he wasn't done.

"I've been dying every single day. I threw up twice today – twice!" His voice cracked towards the end. "And it's only four percent?!"

Frustration rippled through the group. You could see it in the slumping shoulders and the way faces fell.

Kuon, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees, frowned. Unlike Igaguri's outburst, his tone was much calmer.

"That's just overall, though." He looked at you with hope and uncertainty. "I mean, our individual stats must have increased much more than that. The overall is probably being dragged down by the metrics we're not specifically training, right?"

"Exactly!" You nodded vigorously, grateful that someone understood how the numbers worked. "The four percent is across all metrics measured, like speed, stamina, or technique. You’re all working hard, and it shows in the data."

Glancing at the clock, you hurried to continue. “I'd be happy to go over everyone's individual progress in detail at a later time, but I need to meet with the other managers soon.”

"Get some food, take your showers, and rest up. Tomorrow's another long day." You called over your shoulder, quickly grabbing your things as you headed for the door. "Great work today, everyone!"

Tired acknowledgments followed you, mostly through exhausted grunts or weak waves.

The hallway was blessedly quiet after the constant noise of the training room. Your footsteps echoed as you speed-walked toward the Manager's Lobby, tablet clutched to your chest. Every step reminded you that your feet hurt, your back ached, and that you'd been standing or running around for the last couple of hours.

At least, you’d be able to rest your feet when writing the report. Maybe you’d even be able to knock it out in an hour.

Mayu was already there when you arrived, her laptop open and fingers flying across the keyboard. She looked as exhausted as you felt. Her normally neat hair was slightly unkempt from the day, strands escaping to frame her face.

She paused her work when you entered, her hands hovering over the keyboard. A tired smile crossed her face. "H–Hi, rough day?"

"Hey, incredibly rough." You replied, practically melting into your chair. The relief of sitting after being on your feet all day was blissful. "You?"

"Reo and I are trying to keep everyone motivated, but it’s getting harder.” She sighed, but then her expression softened. “Nagi's still working hard. It's amazing to see. He's giving it his all. It’s amazing how different he is from the first day.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, thinking about the terrifying genius your team had faced not too long ago. According to Mayu, he'd done a complete attitude switch since the match. He was completely serious now. You hadn't worked directly with Team V yet, but you were glad to hear about his change. Mainly because of the clear satisfaction and pride it brought to your friend.

The lobby door slid open, putting a pause to your conversation as Matsukawa entered. She looked more irritated than usual, which was saying something. Her appearance was disheveled, clip crooked with the usual sparkle gone from her hair.

"I’ve had enough of this." She scoffed, not even bothering with a greeting. She dropped into her chair with zero grace, letting her stuff thud onto the desk. "My feet are killing me from running between the three different training rooms all day. How much longer do we have to put up with this?"

You rolled your eyes. Every day, she loudly complained about something. You shared some of the frustrations, but it was annoying to constantly hear, especially when there wasn’t much to do about it.

“We put up with it for as long as the players do.” You said, voice flat and unsympathetic. “That’s what we signed up for.”

"I know that." Matsukawa snapped, her glare flashing with irritation. "I'm not an idiot. I’m just being stretched way too th–”

"Take it up with Ego, then." You interrupted, pulling up your data on the tablet. You were too tired for her usual antics. "File a complaint if you think something should change, but right now we have a report to submit."

Her mouth pressed into a thin line, but she pulled out her own tablet and laptop without further comment.

You pulled up the template from the previous day's report on your laptop, the familiar document loading onto the screen. The three of you settled into focused silence, each working on your assigned sections. The only sounds were the soft clacking of keyboard keys along with the occasional rustling of textbooks.

Despite everything, you'd developed a decent working rhythm as a trio. Each of you had your strengths. Mayu was meticulous, catching small errors that the rest of you missed. You were good at the narrative sections, easily interpreting numbers.

Even Matsukawa, for all her complaints and attitude problems, was thorough with her data collection. Her logs were detailed and well-organized, which made compiling the report easier. It surprised you that she took the reports seriously. Although it was probably because she knew Ego or Anri read them. Any manager whose reports were sloppy or incomplete would be in trouble.

An hour and a half later, you finally had a complete report ready for submission. Mayu did a final proofread while you stretched your aching shoulders, hearing several cracks from your back. You really needed to work on your posture.

"Looks good." Mayu stated, submitting the report. All your work for the day was officially completed. The stress of the day immediately left your body as you slumped against the desk, thankful to be done.

Without a word, Matsukawa stood and gathered her things. She headed for the door without her usual snide parting remark. It was a silver lining amongst the exhaustion.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to eat and take a hot shower.” You said, rising to grab your stuff. “I feel so gross.”

"Me too." Mayu sighed, packing her things up with more care than you were managing. "I'll feel like an actual person once I do.”

Soon, the two of you parted ways, eager to rest after such a tiring day. Mayu's footsteps faded as she disappeared around the corner, leaving you alone in the quiet hallway. The facility always felt different at night. There were fewer players now, and most of the remaining ones were usually collapsed in their rooms.

As you walked back toward your room, all you could think about was dumping your stuff in your room and trading it for your shower essentials. It wouldn't be long before you could finally change out of the tracksuit and into your pajamas.

It took your exhaustion-fogged brain a moment to process what you were seeing, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

Someone was further down the hallway, moving slowly away from the boys' communal showers. Their walk was unsteady, almost shuffling, with one hand braced against the wall for support.

"Isagi?"

The figure stopped, and you realized you were right.

I’d recognize that sprout anywhere!

He turned slowly, as if it required great effort to do so. A towel hung over his shoulder, and his hair was dripping wet. Dark strands splayed against his forehead and sent beads of water down his neck to soak into his pajama shirt.

He must’ve just finished showering.

But something was wrong – he looked like a strong nudge could knock him over.

"Oh, hey, Ishikawa..." He murmured, slowly raising one hand in greeting.

Then his knees buckled.

"Careful!" You lunged forward, dropping everything in the process with a loud clatter. Your hands caught his shoulders just as his legs completely gave out, taking his weight as best you could. In your exhausted state, supporting his full body weight as he collapsed made you stagger. Your back hit the wall behind you, and you used it for leverage as you carefully guided him down to sit against it.

"Sorry." He muttered, the dark circles under his eyes more obvious than ever."I'm just so tired. I thought I could make it back to the dorm, but I guess not."

He grimaced, struggling to sit upright. One hand pressed against the wall beside him, trembling slightly with the effort of keeping himself from slumping over completely.

Poor guy. I don’t know how much longer he or the rest of Team Z can take this hellish training.

"I don't blame you." You said, forcing yourself to stay level-headed and reassuring even as concern mounted. "Seriously. I'd collapse if I had to do what you guys do."

You crouched down and grabbed your water bottle from where it had rolled a few feet away. Thank god it hadn't spilled. "Here. Drink up."

Isagi hesitated for a brief second before gratefully taking it. You watched as he drank, noting the desperate way he gulped the water down. He drained nearly half the bottle before pulling away, gasping slightly. It seemed to help as a bit of life returned to his eyes.

"Thanks." He mumbled, managing a small smile as he handed the bottle back. "I needed that.”

“I’m surprised you’re not in bed yet.” You said, taking the bottle and setting it aside before lowering yourself to sit beside him.

“Yeah, the hot water felt nice on my sore muscles, and I got carried away.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a soft thunk, eyes closing. “Stupid, I know.”

"Not stupid, just a little silly." You chuckled, nudging him slightly. At your touch, he opened his eyes, turning his head slightly to look at you. He was quiet for a moment, expression uncertain. His jaw worked like he was trying to speak, but couldn't figure out how to say what he wanted to.

You waited, sensing it was important.

“I know you're tired, and I'm definitely tired, but…” He started, but paused, then pushed forward. "Could we go over my progress? I just need to know if there’s a point to all this training.”

The request caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him. Then a huge grin broke across your face, exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Totally!"

Snatching your tablet up from where it had clattered to the floor, you pulled up your detailed notes on him. You shifted closer, shoulder to shoulder, angling the tablet so he could see the screen clearly.

As you scrolled, you pointed out numerous metrics – upper body strength, speed, flexibility, reaction times, etc. The more info he got, the more he wanted. He had you digging through the reports and notes to find numbers about his pass completion rate, goals, and assists, until everything was basically covered.

Eventually, an eye-watering yawn crept up on you. You tried to stifle it, raising your hand to cover your mouth, but it was too late. The sleepiness that you'd been holding at bay with sheer willpower came rushing back with full force, making your eyelids heavy.

"Ah, sorry!" You blinked your watering eyes clear and found him looking sheepish, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "I didn't mean to hold you up this long.”

"It's okay.” You said, giving a reassuring smile. Pushing yourself up from the floor, you stretched your legs – needing it after sitting for so long. "This is what a manager's for.”

You offered him your hand, and he took it without hesitation this time. You braced yourself and pulled, using your legs for leverage, and helped haul him to his feet. He slightly swayed as he stood, and for a second, you thought he might go down again, but he caught himself, one hand shooting out to brace against the wall.

He stood there for a moment, steadying himself, before nodding. "Okay, I'm good."

The water and the rest had helped him. He didn't look like he was about to pass out anymore, now just tired in the normal way. You crouched down and started gathering your scattered belongings. Meanwhile, Isagi adjusted his towel, slinging it properly over his shoulder, and ran his hand through his still-damp hair.

"I'll walk you back." You firmly stated, and Isagi looked ready to protest. You saw it in the way his mouth opened, words beginning to form on his lips, but the look you shot him left no room for argument.

Instead, he wisely thanked you and left it at that. Together, you started down the hallway, pace slow and careful. You stayed close to his side, ready to catch him if he wobbled.

"How much longer do you think this'll go on for?" Isagi mumbled after a few moments of silence. He was still working his towel through his hair, trying to dry it as you walked. "It feels like it's never going to end."

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought. "I'm not sure, but it can't be too much longer, I think. Otherwise, everyone will drop dead from exhaustion, and Ego will lose all his precious 'lumps of talent.'"

You dropped your voice at the end, mimicking Ego's cold tone and disdain. Isagi burst out laughing – the sound was infectious, and you found yourself grinning too.

"Your Ego impression is pretty good!" He said once he caught his breath, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Though I gotta say, Chigiri's is still the best. You should ask him to do it sometime. It's terrifying and hilarious at the same time."

“Huh, I didn’t imagine Chigiri being good at that kinda stuff.” You murmured, coming to a stop as you reached the entrance of the boy’s sleeping quarters. "Get some sleep, okay?”

Isagi tiredly smiled and raised his hand in a small wave. "Good night. Thanks again for everything."

"Good night." You returned the wave, watching as he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the dorms. As you walked away, one thought formed in your tired mind with unfortunate clarity.

Damn, I still have to shower and eat.

The price of being a manager was a high one indeed.

On day ten, it happened.

You were still tangled in your sheets when the speaker in your room blared with a burst of static.

"The first selection has finished across all stratums. All managers are to report to the Manager's Lobby of your stratum with all belongings. Repeat…"

You lay there for a few seconds, sleep-muddled brain struggling to process what you'd just heard.

The first selection’s over…?

…

The first selection’s over!

The sheets flew off as you bolted upright and scrambled out of bed. Your feet hit the cold floor, and you stumbled slightly, still not quite awake, before catching yourself on the edge of your desk.

Couldn't they have given us a bigger heads-up? Jerks!

Ten days of tortuous conditioning, and they ended it with zero warning. Honesty, it was very on brand, but it still annoyed you. Fortunately, you didn't have that much to pack. Grabbing your suitcase from under the bed, you threw it open and frantically started jamming everything inside.

Within ten minutes, everything was crammed into your suitcase. You had to sit on it to get the zipper closed, but it was a win in your view.

Changing into your familiar tracksuit, you moved to the mirror above your small desk. Only two things were missing now. One, your ribbon. Two, your gold bracelet. Deciding to match, you secured a gold ribbon in your hair.

All ready!

You grabbed your essentials and suitcase, taking one last look around the room that had been yours for the past month. It was rather bare now, like it had been when you first arrived. You'd seen a lot of growth here, but you weren't sad to leave it because leaving meant moving forward. It meant Team Z had survived. You rolled your suitcase to the door, stepping out and leaving the room behind without looking back.

It was officially time for the second selection.

Chapter Text

Surprisingly, you were the first to arrive at the Manager's Lobby. Setting down your belongings near one of the chairs, you'd planned to wait for the others when the screen caught your eye. The message read:

Press on the wall tile to the right of the bookcase and ascend the stairs.

"Tile?" You murmured in confusion. Abandoning your bags, you approached the bookcase that you'd passed multiple times without a second thought. Now, you studied the wall beside it with careful examination. It appeared completely normal, unmarked by cracks or irregularities.

Nothing looked remotely out of place.

Feeling somewhat silly, you reached out and pressed your palm against the wall. Nothing. You tried again, pushing harder in different spots. Still nothing.

"Haru?"

You jumped, spinning around to find Mayu standing in the doorway, her own luggage in tow. Her expression went from confusion to curiosity as she took in the scene. You gestured helplessly toward the screen. Her eyes followed your motion as she read the message.

"A tile?" She set down her things and joined you. Her gaze swept across the wall's surface, reaching out to gently knock on different sections of the wall. Your ears strained to hear any difference in the sound. Most of the knocks produced the same dull thud, but one spot sounded distinctly hollow.

Mayu's hand stilled. She'd heard it too, pressing down hard on that section of wall.

For a second, nothing happened.

Suddenly, the bookcase rumbled, before sliding to the left to reveal a narrow stairwell behind it. Dim wall lights illuminated the steps leading up into the darkness.

You and Mayu stood frozen, jaws agape.

"Has that been there the entire time?" You whispered, bewildered by the mechanism.

"I–It must have been." Mayu sounded equally as confused. "I do not believe there has been enough time for a secret corridor to be added so soon."

The whir of the entrance doors interrupted your puzzlement. Matsukawa stepped through, her usual scowl present, but when her sight landed on the open passage, her expression shifted to genuine confusion.

"What is that?" She stalked closer, craning her neck to peer up the stairwell. "Seriously, how huge is this stupid building?"

For once, I completely agree with her.

The three of you exchanged glances. Despite the strangeness, you had no real choice but to keep going. The message had been clear, and ignoring instructions wasn't an option. Taking the lead, you grabbed your suitcase and things.

Going up didn’t take long, but hauling your belongings up while the wheels of your suitcase bumped against each step made it feel twice as far. Behind you, you could hear Mayu's quiet footsteps and Matsukawa's occasional muttered annoyance when her bag caught on something.

Reaching the top, you entered into an unfamiliar area.

A simple sign hung from the ceiling ahead, reading: Managerial 2nd Stage.

You glanced back to make sure the others were following, then continued forward. If this morning's message was any indication, you were about to meet the other managers in Blue Lock – the ones who'd been ranked higher than you from the start. You'd worked yourself ragged to avoid elimination, and now you'd be starting from scratch among girls who'd already proven themselves superior.

It was intimidating.

Eugh. I can’t even imagine how Team Z feels.

You figured Team Z would be undergoing something similar soon – meeting other players who were ranked far and beyond those they had met in Wing #5. Then again, the brutal training they’d undergone wouldn’t be for nothing.

Surely, they’ll be able to hold their own.

The three of you quietly walked along the corridor, observing the new area. Doors lined both sides of the hallway, each marked with placards. One stood out, a plain door outlined in red with no placard. You curiously slowed your pace near it, but like all the others, it stubbornly remained closed.

At the end of the corridor, you reached a set of double doors, larger and more imposing than the rest.

The placard above them read: Central Conference Area.

This is it.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. The doors slid open, and you walked into a spacious room, only to be met by the stares of other girls. Some clustered together in small pairs or trios, speaking in hushed tones. Others stood alone, tapping away at their tablets or resting their eyes.

The massive screen dominating the far wall displayed a simple message:

We will begin once all managers arrive.

"T–There's only twelve managers, i–including us right now." Mayu whispered, her eyes nervously darting around the room as she took in the unfamiliar faces. You could see her tension in the way her shoulders tightened and how her breathing quickened.

"She can count! How smart." Matsukawa's voice dripped with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes.

Anger flared in your chest, and you shifted to position yourself between them, glaring at Matsukawa. "Leave her alone."

She held your gaze for a moment, then huffed dismissively. A few of the other managers watched the exchange with varying degrees of interest. One girl in particular with long platinum curls seemed openly amused by the whole situation. Her eyes sparkled, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as Matsukawa stalked away without another word.

Whatever. No skin off my back.

Mayu did the opposite, sticking close to your side as you inspected the area more thoroughly. The room itself resembled a high-tech computer lab with state-of-the-art equipment. Sleek desktop computers accompanied by multiple monitors and printers. However, what caught your attention was the layout. The desks were arranged in clusters of three, forming five pods spread throughout the room.

Yet, none of the other managers had claimed a pod. Everyone hovered near the walls, maintaining a careful distance from them.

"Hey, Mayu?"

She looked at you questioningly.

“Wanna claim that pod?” You nodded toward one of the clusters, each desk marked with a small gold tag.

"O-Oh. Yes, let us do that." She ducked her head to avoid drawing attention as she scurried to the desks. You followed after her, all too aware of the eyes tracking your movement. Reaching the pod, you set your bags down and noticed the supplies laid out on each desk – a laminated badge with a clip, a wireless earpiece, and a branded messenger bag.

"The other m-managers look exhausted." Mayu mumbled, moving closer. "Isn't that s-strange?"

You frowned, taking the opportunity to really look at the other girls, and Mayu was right. They all had the telltale signs of burnout that you saw in your own reflection every morning – deep eye bags and dull skin from restless nights.

"You're right." You murmured back, confusion mounting in your mind. "Shouldn't they be way more rested than us?"

At the beginning of the first selection, Ego had made it clear that the higher-ranked wings were living comfortably while the fifth wing scrambled desperately to make it through. Yet the exhausted faces around you told a very different story.

Before you could pursue that thought further, the doors slid open once more. Three additional girls filed in, and while two of them immediately headed off on their own, the third made you do a double-take. She had long, deep red hair, bangs perfectly framing her face, but what really caught your attention was the glow to her skin. While everyone else in the room looked like they'd been put through the wringer, she looked ready for a photoshoot.

Life’s not fair…!

Before you could further lament life’s unfairness, the screen flickered and Anri appeared with a smile.

"Managers, congratulations on moving on to the second selection! Fifteen managers and one hundred twenty-five strikers have passed." She offered a polite clap. "Now, there's one important detail I need to address before we proceed. All of you are from the fifth wing, meaning none of the upper wings ever existed."

For a second, silence filled the room before chaos erupted.

“No freakin’ way!”

“...For real?”

“You dirty liars!”

"Tomo-chan, w–we weren't the woooorst!" A petite girl with long brown hair dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking as she rubbed at her eyes.

The taller girl beside her, Tomo-chan(?), tried calming her down.

"Geez, Natsumi. I told you we weren't the worst. Do you even listen to me?" Despite the exasperation in her voice, her expression was fond as she patted Natsumi(!) on the back. Meanwhile, voices continued mixing in confusion, anger, and relief.

You and Mayu simply stared at each other, jaws dropped in shock.

"Oh my god. We weren't in the bottom wing after all!" The laugh that burst from you was a mixture of relief and disbelief. It changed everything. There was a chance you weren't the lowest-ranked. You could be somewhere in the middle of the pack.

Mayu seemed to be processing the same revelation, but instead of laughing, she whirled to face the screen with sudden intensity. "What about our true rankings then?"

Her voice rang out, the loudest and most forceful you'd ever heard from her. Despite the tremble in her hands, her gaze was determined. Everyone else quieted as their attention shifted back to Anri.

"The true rankings will be revealed soon, but first, I'd like to introduce the second selection format for you managers." With a wave of her hand, the screen behind Anri changed. Five groups materialized, each containing only three empty slots.

“In the second selection, the fifteen of you will be divided into teams of three. These teams will compete against each other through a series of evaluations featuring case studies, the usual reports, exams, and a presentation at the end of the selection period. This is not an exhaustive list."

Across the room, managers began casting sidelong glances at one another, sizing each other up. Everyone was hyper-aware that the people around them were both potential allies and competition.

"Individual progress will be monitored and updated throughout the selection, but you will be ranked based on group performance. This means you will either succeed or fail as a team. Once teams are formed, there is no switching or going back." She paused, letting that sink in. "I advise you to choose wisely. The strikers will soon begin their own second selection, and your work will begin."

Anri’s smile was probably meant to be encouraging, but it did nothing to ease the knot tightening in your stomach.

"Now, here are your true rankings." The screen flickered. "Please use this information to form your teams within the next five minutes. Profiles are being sent to your tablets now. Best of luck!"

Anri vanished, only to be replaced by a list of all fifteen managers and a timer counting down from five minutes. A majority of the other girls surged forward, crowding around the screen as they searched for their names. You and Mayu joined while others hung back, pulling out their tablets as notifications chimed in rapid succession throughout the room.

Scanning the list up and down, your heart raced until –

#9: Ishikawa Miharu

Relief flooded through you that you had to restrain yourself from pumping your fist.

Ninth place! I’m not in the top five, but I’m way ahead of where I thought I was!

The difference between thinking you were scraping the bottom and discovering you were actually in the top ten felt amazing. A small gasp beside you pulled your attention. Mayu stood frozen, staring at the screen with wide eyes.

#5: Miyano Mayu

"Holy crap, that's amazing, Mayu!" You grinned, unable to hold back your enthusiasm as you nudged her shoulder. The two of you removed yourselves from the front, moving toward the calm near your pod. "Top five! Do you know how incredible that is?"

"It feels surreal." Mayu whispered, clasping her hands together as a disbelieving smile spread across her face. She shuffled on her feet, turning to fully face you as her smile wavered. "That reminds me...W–Would you l–like to be t–teammates?"

Her face flushed pink as she gazed at you hopefully, fingers twisting together.

"Me, really?" You pointed at yourself dumbly, thinking you must’ve misheard, but Mayu earnestly nodded. "Are you serious? I'd love to be teammates!"

The sigh of relief that escaped Mayu was enormous, her entire body relaxing as her smile grew more confident. Honestly, you didn't understand her nervousness. If anything, you should be grateful. She was ranked fifth, yet she wanted to work with someone ranked four spots below her.

Then again, Mayu doesn’t seem like the type of person to obsess over rankings.

Rolling your shoulders back, you were filled with renewed determination. “Alright! We just need a third person, so let’s go fin–”

"Let me join your team."

Abruptly cut off, you were startled as the red-haired girl stood directly in front of you and Mayu. Her expression was blank as she stared at both of you. Up close, the contrast between her appearance and everyone else's was even more pronounced.

Seriously, how is her hair so shiny and skin glowing?!

Beside you, Mayu fidgeted, clearly thrown by such a forward approach.

"Umm, who are you?" You asked after several seconds of awkward silence. The girl seemed completely unbothered by your deflection of her request.

If it even is a request…she was pretty firm.

"I'm Harada Emiko, ranked seventh." She nodded toward the leaderboard still displayed on the screen.

You glanced over to check, and sure enough:

#7: Harada Emiko

"M-May I ask why you would like to j-join us?" Mayu asked, wringing her hands together. You nodded vigorously, equally curious. It was important to understand her motivation before committing to work with her for the entire selection.

"Easy." Harada pointed directly at you. "I like your accessories. Her gold ribbon and bracelet match the gold tags on the pod you picked out."

You and Mayu exchanged bewildered glances. For what was arguably one of the most important decisions in Blue Lock so far, she seemed to be treating it rather lightly.

"...Is that it?" You slowly asked, looking at the timer. Only a little over two minutes remained, and the other managers were starting to form their teams.

"Do I need another reason?" Harada's gaze remained steady, almost challenging.

You looked at Mayu.

Mayu looked at you.

A chime sounded, indicating another team formation as the timer continued counting down.

An entire conversation passed in a single glance. There was an acknowledgment that Harada’s reasoning was a tad strange, but the two of you had to be practical. Harada was ranked seventh, and teams were quickly forming.

The longer we hesitate, the fewer options we have. Not to mention, we run the risk of ending up with Matsukawa again.

That thought alone was enough to accept Harada, but Mayu’s tiny nod sealed the deal for you.

"Welcome to the team!" You thrust out your hand with more confidence than you actually felt, forcing a bright smile. Harada grasped it immediately, her handshake firm.

"Team formed. The Gold Team is made up of Miyano Mayu, Harada Emiko, and Ishikawa Miharu."

The announcement rang out clearly, names echoing through the conference room. It was official now. For better or worse, the three of you were bound together. Soon, two other announcements followed as the last two teams formed. You couldn’t help but notice the platinum-haired girl who was smiling earlier had teamed up with Matsukawa.

Each team had now claimed one of the five pods, the desk clusters occupied by trios of managers organizing their belongings. The colored tags on each pod – green, white, gold, red, and blue – corresponded to the team names displayed on the screen.

"Team formation complete. Monitoring will now begin."

In less than a second, the screen flickered and switched feeds entirely. It displayed a live video feed where all the strikers were packed into a single area. They were receiving their own briefing from Ego, his distinctive appearance unmistakable even through the screen.

The strikers looked extremely irritated, with faces twisted in confusion, anger, or both. Plenty of shouting interrupted Ego's speech, voices overlapping in protests you couldn't quite make out through the audio feed. Scanning the crowd, you felt a small wave of relief when you spotted Team Z clustered near the back of the room.

Ego appeared completely unbothered by the uproar.

"In the second selection, the trash will be sifted out first. Only the true egotists will remain." He said, the disdain in his tone evident through the speaker. "Best of luck to you." Ego said with what might’ve been a smirk, but it was hard to tell from the camera angle.

His image vanished from the screen, leaving behind a room full of confused strikers, but they weren't the only ones feeling lost. Around you, several managers exchanged confused glances, uncertainty written across their faces.

It wasn't until the Red Team stood up, gathered their bags and luggage, and headed toward a door outlined in red that understanding sank in. Your eyes darted around the room, eventually spotting a door outlined in gold.

"Let's get going." Harada said, already securing her tablet and new supplies into the messenger bag, with Mayu doing the same. They'd figured it out, too.

You hastily shoved everything into your own bag, then grabbed your suitcase. As you turned toward the gold-outlined door, you cast one last glance back at the conference room. The other teams were moving now, each heading toward their color-coded doors. On the main screen behind them all, the live feed of the strikers continued.

Your breath caught.

On screen, one of the strikers had just kicked a soccer ball, then another. The two balls arced through the air in graceful trajectories, spinning toward each other until they collided.

Holy shit.

You didn't have time to see who'd done it or what happened next because Mayu was already at the door, which had slid open in response to her approach, and Harada looked impatient. Tearing your eyes away from the screen, you jogged toward your teammates and headed into your area.

The Gold area was a mirror image of the corridor you'd passed through earlier. The only difference now was that these doors responded to your presence. As you approached, they slid open after a brief delay, granting you access.

The three of you entered the one labeled: Data Monitoring Hub.

Three walls were lined floor-to-ceiling with massive screens, with a group of desks occupying the center of the room. In the far corner was a setup similar to the one you'd used in Team Z's area, almost a command center of sorts. You and Harada moved in sync, setting your bags down on the central desks and keeping your suitcases near the entrance to keep them out of the way. Mayu followed suit, quickly leaving her things before making a beeline for the corner computer.

While she tapped away, you settled into one of the desk chairs and pulled out your tablet. The profiles Anri had mentioned were already loaded. You scrolled through the list of the other twelve managers, but the information was sparse. Only their names and rankings were available. There were other documents, though. An updated rulebook with detailed breakdowns of both the manager and striker portions of this phase, and a spreadsheet listing every player who'd advanced.

You were skimming over the striker's second selection file when all three walls of screens lit up, bathing the room in light. Dozens of split-screen windows popped up, each one featuring a different striker alone in what appeared to be an enclosed training room. Their names appeared in the corner of each feed.

"That's the first stage." Harada said without looking up. She'd already claimed a desk, her laptop open beside her tablet. "All the players have to score one hundred goals in ninety minutes to pass."

You kept reading, eyebrows rising. "It says here the goalkeeper is programmed using data compiled from world-class goalies. The difficulty increases as the number of goals scored does." You glanced up at the screens, watching several players already taking their first shots. "Scoring goals won't be easy at all."

"F–For now, we should begin tracking the progress of the players in the first stage." Mayu suggested, leaving the corner setup to join you and Harada at the central desks.

"Tracking every detail will be impossible with this many players." Harada said matter-of-factly. She still hadn't looked up from her screen. "Let's focus on tracking the order and completion times for the first stage. We can add notes for any special cases or standout performances."

You glanced at Mayu, who looked back at you with a slightly uncertain expression. You shrugged. It was as good a plan as any, and Harada seemed confident.

Guess we're doing that, then.

Each of you took responsibility for monitoring one screen, as well as checking that the feed was being recorded for later use if needed. Silence settled over the room, broken only by the steady typing and the occasional muffled sounds from the video feeds.

"W-We have our first player to pass." Mayu announced after about thirty minutes, excitement in her usually soft voice. Her fingers moved quickly, inputting the data.

You scrolled to read the new entry on the spreadsheet.

"Itoshi Rin?" The name felt familiar, like you'd heard or read it in passing somewhere. "Harada, was he in your wing?"

She paused her typing, eyes flicking toward you. "No."

Harada went right back to work, clearly not interested in who the player was or your bad memory.

You frowned, trying to recall where you knew the name from. The harder you grasped for it, the more it seemed to slip away, like trying to remember a dream after waking. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated sigh and returned to monitoring your assigned screen.

Despite trying to focus on your section, your eyes kept straying to the windows with Team Z. For whatever reason, not all of them had started the first stage yet. However, the ones who had Isagi were doing the best. His progress was slow but steady, with each goal seeming more confident than the last.

Looks like he’s continuing to adapt his weapon to the conditions of the room. Great work, Isagi!

"You're not watching your screen."

You startled slightly, turning to find Harada staring directly at you. Her expression was blank as she observed you. The way she said it was like she was simply stating the fact of the matter.

Even so, heat crept up your neck. "I’m just checking on some of my players from the first selection.”

Harada held your gaze for a long moment, then returned to her work without saying anything. Sheepishly, you forced yourself to focus solely on your assigned screen, determined not to look at any of Team Z.

At least, not while Harada might notice.

Before long, more and more strikers completed the hundred goals, their feeds transitioning to show them entering the second stage. The format was simple: form a three-player team, win a match against another team, and advance. The only catch was that one player from the losing team would be selected by the winners to join them and move forward, while the other two would be sent back to the previous stage.

"They make a weird team." You observed, watching Itoshi Rin, Aryu Jyubei, and Tokimitsu Aoshi – the first three players to clear the initial stage – group up. The dynamic was strange. Rin regarded the two with cold indifference, Aryu approached everything through a glam(?) lens, and Tokimitsu was a ball of nerves.

Mayu's eyes tracked them as their feed shifted to the third stage area. "I–I feel a little bad for T-Tokimitsu…”

You nodded in agreement. From what you'd seen, he hadn't seemed comfortable joining the other two, but he'd said yes to their offer anyway.

He should’ve just waited for more people to come through.

Their situation seemed to be unique, though. As more players cleared the first stage, most lingered in the holding area, thinking through their options and potential teammates with much more thought.

I wouldn’t be surprised if a majority are waiting for their previous teammates.

None of Team Z had passed yet, but Isagi and Bachira were close. So far, only Reo and Nagi from Wing 5 had made it through. You noticed Mayu's expression brightened considerably when she noticed. The pride was evident in her smile.

"Guess the two of them are waiting for Zantetsu, huh?" You asked, adding supplementary notes on Team Z's progress while you waited for more players to pass.

"I believe so. T–They are quite the formidable trio." Mayu replied, her gaze drifting to Zantetsu's feed. He was about halfway to the required goal count.

"One of your players passed." Harada dryly announced, still typing away at her laptop.

Your head whipped around so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, eyes frantically scanning the screens until you found it. Isagi's feed showed him scoring his hundredth goal with five minutes remaining on the clock. He was sweaty from the effort, but his expression was triumphant.

The grin that spread across your face was unstoppable as you quickly added his details to the spreadsheet. Your mood lifted even further when Bachira cleared moments later, only to immediately seek out Isagi.

They're really doing this together!

Out of the rest of Team Z, Chigiri or Kunigami would probably fit best in their trio. They’d already worked together well to score goals and you couldn’t see why that would change now. It would just come down to who cleared the first stage first. You were searching the feeds for both of them, checking their progress, when Mayu’s quiet gasp grabbed your attention.

On one of the upper screens, Nagi had approached Isagi. Even through the screen, you could see Reo in the background, his body language tense and bothered.

"He was the best one in our last match." Nagi said, his voice slightly muffled through the audio feed but still clear enough. "I wanna try playing soccer with him."

What’s happening? Nagi’s recruiting Isagi?

Even Harada seemed interested, or at least, interested in your reactions. Her eyes flicked between you, Mayu, and the screen.

"So...what are you gonna do? Join them?" Bachira appeared relaxed on screen, arms crossed casually behind his head. You weren't fooled. You'd spent enough time around him to know that Bachira considered Isagi a genuine friend. He’d be at least a tiny bit bothered in being left behind.

"No way I'd go. I'm teaming up with Bachira."

You released a small sigh of relief.

Good. They work way too well together to separate now.

"I–It would have been interesting to see them work together." Mayu offered with a small shrug and a 'what can you do' smile. You hummed in agreement, but you were glad Isagi and Bachira had stuck together.

Maybe later they’ll get the chance to.

But then Nagi spoke again. "I'll join your team, Isagi."

"Huh?" The word tumbled out of Mayu's mouth, her brows furrowing deeply in confusion.

You felt the same way, mind scrambling to process what you'd just heard. "Aren't Nagi and Reo friends?"

Mayu glanced at you, nodding quickly, before her attention snapped back to the screen. Her shock was nothing compared to Reo's. His expression cycled through disbelief, hurt, and something that resembled betrayal.

It was hard to watch. You couldn’t imagine what you would feel like having a friend leave you behind like that.

…But isn’t that the point of Blue Lock?

Although you weren’t an egoist aiming to be the top striker, you were still in a competition of your own. You had been lucky so far to be able to work with Mayu and go against others you weren’t so fond of.

That won’t be true forever though.

If you truly wanted to aim for the top, you would eventually have to do the same as what Nagi did – leave others behind and go your own way. Even if it meant eliminating them.

Ugh, let’s not think about that right now!

"It looks like we have our second team: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, and Nagi Seishiro." Harada said, already typing away to update the spreadsheet. Her tone remained completely indifferent to the straining of a friendship you had just watched in real-time.

But there was no time to dwell on the drama as Isagi's newly formed team was already moving into the third stage. Ego materialized on one of the overhead screens to explain the rules with his usual condescension. You only half-listened, already familiar with the general structure of the second selection.

"T-Two more of your players passed!" Mayu's excited chirp pulled your attention away.

You glimpsed up at the screen she was pointing to. Sure enough, Chigiri was in the second stage waiting area, his distinctive pink-reddish hair unmistakable even through the slightly grainy feed. Moments later, Kunigami emerged as well. From their gestures and expressions, they'd clearly decided to team up.

Great! Now, if only the rest of Team Z could hurry up and pass the first stage.

The others were still grinding away at their hundred goals. Too busy checking the status of Team Z's remaining players, you nearly missed the faint audio that came through.

"Crushing Itoshi Sae is everything to me in soccer."

…

…!

"That's it!" The words burst out of you as you shot to your feet, the sudden movement making your laptop clatter across the desk. "That's where I recognize his name. His brother's the genius midfielder who went to Spain! How did I not make that connection immediately?!”

"Be careful." Harada flatly said, not even glancing up from her screen. "Don't break the laptop."

You quickly checked if the device was okay, mumbling an apology, though you weren't sure if it was directed at Harada or the laptop itself.

Mayu studied the other Itoshi brother with interest. "O–Oh. Are they rivals then?"

You opened your mouth to admit that you didn't know the details of their relationship beyond the basic facts of Sae's career, but Harada interrupted before you could.

"We have our first match set to take place."

The abruptness of her statement made both you and Mayu whip your heads toward the main screens, matching sounds of confusion escaping. The display that had just shown Isagi's team in the third stage holding area had changed.

MATCHMAKING COMPLETED!

Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Nagi Seishiro

VS.

Itoshi Rin, Aryu Jyubei, Tokimitsu Aoshi

What the hell just happened?