Chapter Text
Isagi Yoichi smirks in satisfaction, his teeth glinting and ocean eyes flashing as the ball sinks into the back of the net.
Another day, another game, another goal.
Having devoured his main rivals and scored against PxG Isagi thinks he has confidently shown everyone he can be the best in the world. Distantly he hears Itoshi Rin and Michael Kaiser’s screams of agony in the background and wonders if they will need to be committed.
“That was some crazy goal!”
Hiori leaps towards him, hands on his shoulder as he hops in the air. His partner didn’t need to take the opportunity to make himself tower over Isagi any more than he already does, but what else can you expect from a sadist.
Isagi is so excited he lets it slide but he makes a completely unrelated mental note to let Hiori wash his own laundry for once.
”Thanks, Hiori! Your pass was insane, too!”
”Naturally, dumbass!”
Well? Blue Lock is not about modesty but ego, and Isagi feels proud to play so well at such a high level with such talented teammates. Hiori in particular he knows has grown and been a vital piece of his success as a striker. He wonders what people think of him now.
“But that crazy shot! What a weapon! How’d you do that!!” Hiori demands to know, his usually soft eyes lit up and sweat kissing his cyan brows.
My friends are pretty…
Isagi is often daydreaming when he is not plotting. He remembers his mom used to tell him to stop thinking so hard or his head would get stuck in the clouds. He had whined at first but later he thought that could be the coolest thing ever. Either way Isagi is an introspective introvert. When it comes to soccer, though, he cannot be more extroverted.
Snapping out of it, he tells Hiori in earnest detail how he executed the play and improvised the shot. He feels like a kid all over again.
“…without a doubt, the inspiration came from Nagi! I call it my two gun volley!”
Of course Isagi already had a name for the move and everything. Hiori relishes Isagi’s soccer nerd joy, and how it warms his heart, before he pauses to consider what he is hearing.
”Nagi? You mean the juggling thing he attempted in the Manshine game?”
”Yeah, I ripped him off!”
“Wow, Isagi. That’s not gay at all. And here I thought it was all about Kaisagi trending.”
“Huh?” Isagi’s jaw drops in disbelief.
“He’s more of an egoist than I thought,” Hiori mutters, mostly to himself. “Using his boyfriend’s move to beat his other boyfriends, it’s ingenious.”
Unfortunately, Isagi is still standing right there and hears it loud and clear. Everyone does.
“Not this again,” Isagi grouses, cheeks already flushed from adrenaline, now pinking further. “It’s not like that! Nagi is really incredible! I can’t help but remember all of his moves!”
“Oh Isagi, not all his moves. What other moves of Nagi’s do you know?” Hiori half leers and half admonishes mercilessly.
Isagi is suddenly hyper aware of everything being televised on Blue Lock TV. His soccer speaks for itself, he knows that. It’s a good thing, too, because he doesn’t know what else to say to defend himself.
“Leave it alone, Hiori!”
Nearby Rin and Kaiser are now seething for a different reason. To any viewer they look to be in an absolutely homicidal rage: their jaws clenched tight, veins bulging, their sanity possibly in question.
Coincidentally, sweet Anri, Blue Lock’s unwitting team manager, does in fact have the nearest mental institution, local hospital, and concussion protocol on speed dial, ready to call on their behalf.