Inside Team V's video room, the dim glow of the monitor illuminated Reo Mikage's focused expression. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of footsteps from a distant corridor and the occasional click of the remote in Reo's hand. His eyes were locked on the screen, analyzing every movement of Team Z in their matches. The organization of their plays caught his attention immediately. They were cohesive, like gears turning in perfect synchronization. But even in their seamless flow, one player stood out like a beacon.
"That guy is good"
Reo murmured, leaning closer to the screen. His purple eyes gleamed with interest as he watched the player deftly weave through defenders.
"He's so nimble with the ball. It's like it's glued to his feet."
The player in question was none other than Isagi Yoichi. Reo replayed the clip, this time slowing it down to better observe Isagi's technique. The ball moved as if it were an extension of him, responding to every subtle shift in his body. Isagi's dribbling was smooth, precise, and efficient—never flashy, but always effective. His ball control was remarkable, allowing him to maintain his top speed even while navigating through the opposition.
Reo leaned back, a thoughtful smile tugging at his lips.
'His speed with or without the ball is nearly identical. That level of control is rare. His vision on the field is sharp, and his finishing...'
He paused, rewinding to a particular clip where Isagi maneuvered past two defenders before delivering a pinpoint assist.
'...it's top-notch, too. He's as gifted as Nagi.'
The thought stirred a flicker of excitement in Reo's chest.
He couldn't deny it—this player was special. Despite Isagi's tendency to pass in moments where others would selfishly shoot, he still stood as Team Z's top scorer. There was a calculated brilliance to his decisions, a clarity that Reo found fascinating.
As Reo delved deeper into the footage, one particular goal caught his attention. It was a match against Team Y—a long-range strike that made Reo sit up straight. The ball soared through the air, cutting a clean path past the goalkeeper and into the net. Reo's lips parted slightly as he watched the replay in slow motion. The power, the precision, the confidence—it was a masterpiece.
"That shot..."
He whispered, his voice tinged with admiration.
"It's on a completely different level."
He rewound it again, this time analyzing Isagi's positioning, the angle of his strike, and the subtle adjustments he made in that fleeting moment. It was the kind of goal that left no room for doubt—Isagi Yoichi's shooting ability was far superior to anyone Reo had encountered thus far.
Reo grinned, his excitement now bubbling over.
"Let's see if you can beat my treasure, Isagi Yoichi."
The challenge hung in the air, unspoken yet electric. In his mind, Reo could already imagine the clash of their skills, the battle for supremacy. For the first time in a while, he felt a genuine thrill. After all, nothing excited him more than uncovering talent that could rival Nagi's—and perhaps even surpass it.
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Team Z, Training Ground
Team Z pushed through their afternoon training. They were engaged in their usual 5v5 matches, with one player rotating as the goalie. This method proved to be one of the best ways to sharpen their skills—it mimicked the intensity of a real match while allowing them to adapt to the tactical formations set by Isagi.
Without realizing it, Isagi Yoichi had become the de facto leader of Team Z. He wasn't just giving instructions; he was making decisions that shaped their plays. What surprised everyone was how naturally they accepted it. Even Raichi, who was known for his fiery temper and stubbornness, would eventually come around to Isagi's strategies, albeit after a brief argument.
After long training session the team finally decided to call it a day. All except for Isagi. At first, his relentless training schedule worried his teammates. They whispered among themselves, wondering if he'd collapse from exhaustion. But as days turned into weeks and Isagi continued to train without faltering, they began to feel reassured.
While the others rested, Isagi stayed back to refine his footwork. The ball rolled effortlessly beneath his feet, following his every command. He relished the feeling of control but knew that mastery required creativity. To make an impact, he needed to get risky with his plays—and for that, more practice was essential.
As Isagi prepared to start another run, he noticed a familiar figure entering the training ground.
"You didn't leave with the others?"
Isagi asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Kunigami Rensuke shook his head.
"Ah... I did. Thought I should train a little longer, though."
The two began practicing together. For Isagi, training against a live opponent was far more valuable than running drills with stationary cones. They pushed each other, challenging their limits. After nearly an hour of relentless training, Kunigami finally ran out of gas.
Both players sat down on the grass, gulping water from their bottles. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets. Kunigami glanced at Isagi repeatedly, as though trying to find the courage to say something.
"I'm sorry"
Isagi suddenly said, breaking the quiet.
Kunigami blinked, caught off guard.
"Huh? For what?"
"For not passing to you as often"
Isagi admitted, his tone earnest.
Kunigami raised an eyebrow.
"So that was deliberate? I thought my positioning was off."
The orange-haired striker had been meaning to bring this up. He'd been working hard on improving his positioning, aiming to create more opportunities for Isagi to pass to him. But during matches, it felt as though Isagi was ignoring those efforts.
Isagi sighed, looking Kunigami directly in the eye.
"The thing is, you attract a lot of attention when you're up front. Opponents see you as a major threat. I know it's not fair—especially since the rankings are based on how many goals we score—but I need you to save that ability of yours for the final match."
Kunigami frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Isagi leaned forward, his voice calm but firm.
"Team V's offense is exceptional. They're going to be tough to deal with. There'll be moments in that match where I'll have to focus on defense. When that happens, I need you and Kira to lead the attack. The way you draw defenders in and create space is going to be crucial.
Think about it—if Bachira and I keep their attention, there will be gaps for you to exploit. I know it feels like I've been sidelining you, but trust me, it's all part of the bigger picture."
Kunigami stared at Isagi, processing his words. He didn't like being overlooked, but he couldn't deny the logic behind Isagi's explanation. Isagi's reasoning was always grounded in strategy, never ego.
"You see"
Isagi continued, determination shining in his eyes,
"I don't want us to just scrape by. I want to win it all. And I believe we have a real shot at it. So give it your all in the next match."
Kunigami nodded, a newfound resolve settling over him.
"Got it."
With that, he stood and left the training ground, leaving Isagi alone once again. But this time, Kunigami didn't feel ignored—he felt like a vital part of something much larger.
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Team Z's Video Room
The dim room buzzed with quiet anticipation as Team Z gathered around the screen. The flickering light from the projector reflected off their determined faces. Isagi Yoichi stood at the front, holding the remote, his presence commanding yet approachable. He had become their strategist, the one they instinctively looked to for guidance.
"Here we are again"
Isagi began, his voice steady but carrying an edge of urgency. The team leaned in, hanging on his every word.
"So, we all know the main threats of Team V—Mikage Reo, Tsurugi Zantetsu, and Seishiro Nagi. These three are their core. If we can disrupt their rhythm, we can take them down."
The screen flashed with footage of Team V's previous matches, showcasing Reo's pinpoint passes, Zantetsu's blistering speed, and Nagi's seemingly effortless control. Isagi paused the video, letting the gravity of the challenge sink in.
"Our formation will remain the same—a straightforward attacking 4-3-3. But"
He said, his tone sharpening,
"some of you will have to switch positions frequently depending on the situation."
The team exchanged glances, a mix of curiosity and unease.
"When Reo has the ball and I'm pressing him, Raichi will man-mark Nagi. If Zantetsu starts a run, Chigiri and Raichi will work together to stop him, while I'll take over marking Nagi. And if I have to fall back to defense, Raichi, you'll shift to mark Reo."
"Chigiri"
Isagi continued, turning to the speedster,
"you'll switch from left back to left wing during offensive plays. My position will fluctuate between central attacking midfielder, defensive midfielder, and even center back when needed. The key is to stay alert and react to the flow of the game. Trust your instincts and don't hesitate to make plays, even if they're a little risky. I'll be playing recklessly this match, so I need all of you to explore your strengths and evolve—just like Ego wants us to."
He paused, scanning their faces. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
"If we don't"
He said solemnly,
"We will scrape past the first selection, but moving forward, we'll have to rely solely on individual talent. This might be the last match we get to play as a team. So don't hold back. Don't get locked off. Give it your all tomorrow."
A wave of determination swept through the room as the players responded.
"Yes!"
"Alright!"
"We will win!"
Isagi's gaze lingered on his teammates. He had tried to keep his distance, knowing that some of them would be eliminated after the first selection. But he had failed. In the few days they had spent together, he had grown attached. Each of them had their quirks, their strengths, and their dreams. He wanted the best for them, even if he couldn't say it out loud.
'This is Blue Lock'
He thought.
'Even if we lose tomorrow, we'll still advance. That much is certain. But this might be our last chance to play together, to push each other to evolve. So let them go wild on the field, formation be damned.'
As the meeting wrapped up, Isagi turned off the projector, leaving the room in silence except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. He looked at his team one last time, committing their faces to memory. Tomorrow, they would fight with everything they had—and Isagi would make sure that no one on Team Z left the field with regrets.
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