The atmosphere in Blue Lock's locker room was suffocating. The tension radiated like heat, and its source was clear—the confrontation brewing between Isagi and Raichi. Raichi's glare burned with unbridled anger, but Isagi stood firm, his calm demeanor an unyielding wall against Raichi's fury.
Isagi took a step forward, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.
"When Ego explained the conditions for advancing, I knew this team could go one of two ways. We'd either rise above as a unit or fall apart like Team X did today. And with the way you've been acting, Raichi, I knew you'd drag us straight into chaos. That's why I didn't let you take the ball from me."
Raichi's jaw clenched, his fists trembling at his sides.
Isagi continued, his tone sharp but measured.
"I gave you a chance. When I passed to you, it wasn't just about scoring—it was about proving you could contribute to the team, that you weren't just playing for yourself. You gave your answer loud and clear when you tried to dribble past four defenders like you were untouchable. You failed, Raichi. And a player who only drags the team down is nothing but a burden. That's why I didn't pass to you again."
Raichi's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and rage. He took a step closer, jabbing a finger in Isagi's direction.
"As if! Be honest already! You convinced these pushovers to use that formation just so you could be the top scorer. Don't act like you're some selfless team player. You just wanted to secure your spot in the next selection. Admit it!"
The accusation hung in the air, sowing seeds of doubt among the other players. A few glanced between Raichi and Isagi, uneasy and uncertain.
Isagi let out a quiet laugh, a sound devoid of humor. He turned, pulling off his jersey and slinging a towel over his shoulder, signaling his disinterest in the argument. Yet, before stepping away, he threw a question back at Raichi.
"You think there are more than 280 players here better than me? Better than Kira, Bachira, or Kunigami? Are you saying every player in Team X is stronger than us?"
Raichi opened his mouth, but Isagi didn't give him a chance to respond.
"Ego lied about those ranks"
Isagi stated plainly, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of conviction.
"He didn't build balanced teams—he created pressure cookers. He put great players with less skilled ones to force a choice: let the strong players carry the team or fight to prove you deserve to stand with them. That's the chance I gave you, Raichi. And you failed. You couldn't even get past one defender."
Isagi's words were precise, cutting deeper with every sentence.
"You have the physique to hold onto the ball, but you lost it immediately. I didn't pass to Kira at first because I wanted to face Barou head-on and match his goal. I didn't pass to you because I knew you couldn't deliver. When I passed to Bachira, he had two defenders on him, and he still scored. Meanwhile, you handed Barou his second goal on a silver platter."
Raichi's face contorted with rage. He lunged forward, grabbing Isagi by the shoulder.
"You think you're untouchable?!"
Isagi turned his head slowly, his calm gaze meeting Raichi's fiery one.
"You do realize we're in the locker room, right?"
"What the hell does tha—"
Before Raichi could finish, Isagi moved with a swiftness that caught everyone off guard. In one fluid motion, he grabbed Raichi's arm, twisted it, and brought him crashing to the floor with a forceful takedown. The sound of Raichi hitting the ground echoed in the stunned silence.
"Isagi!"
"Guys, stop!"
The cries of alarm from the other players did nothing to break the stillness that followed. Isagi crouched down, his face mere inches from Raichi's. His expression was no longer calm—it was cold, predatory. His piercing gaze froze Raichi in place, and for the first time, the aggressive Striker felt small. Fear crawled up his spine as he stared into Isagi's unrelenting eyes.
"Don't ever lay a hand on me again"
Isagi said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying a weight that silenced the entire room.
"You can yell at me, insult me, call me names—I don't care. But if you or anyone else thinks about getting physical with me, you won't get away with it."
His words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable. Though his gaze was fixed on Raichi, everyone in the room felt the message loud and clear.
Satisfied, Isagi stood and adjusted his towel before heading for the showers. The sound of his footsteps faded, leaving the team in a thick, awkward silence. Raichi remained on the floor, his anger drowned out by the unsettling fear Isagi had instilled in him.
No one dared speak. They all understood one thing—Isagi wasn't just a player with skill. He was a force to be reckoned with, both on and off the pitch.
Isagi quietly rose from the bench in the locker room, his expression unreadable as he grabbed his towel and headed toward the showers. The sound of his cleats echoed faintly against the tiled floor, each step punctuating his frustration. Physical confrontations were something he loathed. Injuries weren't just a temporary setback—they were career-defining, sometimes career-ending. Even though he had been lucky enough to remain unscathed so far, that lingering fear clung to him. It was too soon to shake off the haunting thoughts of what an injury could do to his future.
Back in the locker room, Imamura crouched down to help Raichi to his feet.
"Here, let me—"
"Get off!"
Raichi snarled, swatting Imamura's hand away with a sharp slap. The sting of humiliation burned hotter than the ache in his back. He couldn't believe it—Isagi, the mild-mannered and composed teammate who rarely showed a temper, had turned into a ferocious force in mere moments.
Raichi stayed seated on the floor, his face twisted in pain as he clutched his lower back. The takedown had been hard, ruthless even, but calculated. Isagi's control had been precise enough to avoid causing any real damage beyond a few bruises. Still, the impact had left Raichi rattled.
As he attempted to stand again, the pain flared, forcing him back down. He gritted his teeth, ready to make another attempt when a firm hand pressed against his shoulder, halting him.
"Don't move"
Came a voice, cool and professional. It was one of Blue Lock's staff members. Within moments, Raichi was being guided onto a stretcher. He winced as they lifted him, his pride taking an even bigger hit than his body. They carried him toward the medical department, leaving the rest of the team to exchange uneasy glances.
Meanwhile, Anri received the report on Raichi's condition. It was a relief—nothing serious. With proper care and rest, he'd be fit to play by tomorrow. Still, her worry lingered. Would Ego punish Isagi for what had happened? Isagi's talent was too valuable to jeopardize, but such incidents couldn't simply be ignored. After reviewing the footage and considering that Raichi had instigated the conflict, Ego dismissed the matter with his usual cold detachment.
"Raichi brought this upon himself"
Ego stated flatly, brushing the incident aside as nothing more than a footnote in the grand scheme of Blue Lock.
Later that evening, Raichi returned to Team Z's dormitory, his movements slow and stiff. The medical staff had given him strict instructions: eat well, rest, and, most importantly, stay out of trouble. They had made it clear he'd been lucky. A strike like that could have easily resulted in a more serious injury.
As he lowered himself onto his futon, a shiver ran down his spine. The memory of Isagi's fierce glare and the cold precision of that takedown played on repeat in his mind.
"That bastard nearly ended my career…"
He muttered under his breath, bitterness and fear mixing in his voice.
Moments later, the room's screen flickered to life, displaying the current standings for the First Selection. Raichi leaned back, still sore, as he studied the rankings.
Team V was in first place, an eight-point lead setting them far ahead of the competition. Team Z trailed with a meager two-point difference, hanging on by a thread. Below them, Team X had plummeted to a dismal -6, and Team Y languished at the very bottom with -8.
Raichi stared at the standings, his jaw tightening.
"Damn it… Team V crushed someone 8–0? How the hell are we supposed to beat a team like that?"
The numbers on the screen blurred slightly as the weight of their challenge sank in. Even as his body throbbed with pain, a new fear clawed at him—a fear not just of Isagi, but of the monstrous teams lying ahead in the competition.
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[A/N]: Hi Guys, If You'll remember that I posted a note before about how the schedule of Chapters would change soon, It will be happening from this week because of my College,
The current schedule will provide 2-3 Chapters a week, Though currently I have already written a few Chapters so It will be more frequent for a while and will get adjusted into the schedule which I just proposed, It will be for a short time though and will get back to the way I've been posting
Hope you guys have enjoyed it up till now, Keep reading and throwing those Power Stones at me
Have a Good Day!