Archive of Our Own

Sunlight slanted, sunlight drifted, weaving itself gently through the leaves, spreading across the footsteps along the pathway covered in golden flamboyant flowers. At the end of the path was a small flower shop, standing quietly for over ten years. Its owner was an elderly woman, now past seventy, but whose memory remained remarkably sharp. She never forgot the faces and names of her regular customers.

For ten years now, each July, when flamboyant flowers covered the streets, a particular visitor always came to buy flowers. The gentle old lady clearly recalled their first meeting; he was still a reserved teenager with a quiet, cool demeanor. Every year since then, the young man would visit on the same day, his expressions gradually changing over time. From a silent, withdrawn boy, at some point, he began smiling and talking more freely. Only his aquamarine eyes remained unchanged, always carrying a deep, lingering sadness.

The chime of the doorbell gently woke the elderly woman from her brief nap. Putting on her glasses over a face marked by the wrinkles of time, she smiled kindly at the man standing at the entrance, dressed neatly in a suit and overcoat.

"Is that you, Rin?"

"Yes," Rin smiled warmly, leisurely approaching to help her up from the chair. "I've come to buy flowers."

"Oh, my dear, I remember," the woman brushed off his assistance, acting lively as she walked to the flower stand already prepared. "Forget-me-nots, like every year, right?"

"Yes."

"This boy really loves forget-me-nots," the elderly woman murmured out of habit, her voice audible enough for the customer to hear. "They're beautiful indeed, just like your eyes."

Rin’s smile softened even more, "Yes," he said, gently taking the bouquet from her hands, "Forget-me-nots are very beautiful."

While counting his change, the elderly woman chatted idly with Rin. In the first few years, he had simply purchased flowers and left quickly. Gradually, however, he'd stayed longer to converse, becoming increasingly open, relaxed, with a constant, gentle smile lingering at the corners of his lips. Looking at him now, the woman almost forgot how cold and distant he had once been a decade ago. Moved by the passing of time, she placed the money on a tray, searching for small coins to return to him.

"You seem tired, was your flight rushed this time?"

"Yes, I just finished playing in the World Cup, had to hurry back."

The elderly woman, having never watched football in her life, didn't understand what the World Cup was. Nevertheless, she knew his work was incredibly busy.

"You're such a sentimental child," she said, placing a few coins into his hand, her aging eyes still bright despite being heavy-lidded. "Ten years in a row… few young people today have that kind of loyalty."

"I'm not exactly young anymore," Rin pocketed the coins for luck, nodding respectfully. "It's getting late, I should go now."

"Alright, take care, dear."

Near the flower shop was a bus stop. Rin waited there, holding the aquamarine bouquet. After about ten minutes, the bus arrived. Rin stepped onboard, finding an empty seat by the window, placing the flowers carefully beside him. Golden flamboyant blossoms brushed against the windowpane, lending their vibrant hues to the glass. Rin retrieved a small notebook and fountain pen from his coat pocket. Opening a blank page, he began to write. Though the bus ride was bumpy, his handwriting remained impeccable.

Saitama, July 28, 2030.

Sunlight gently settled on the forget-me-nots, tinting them aquamarine. Beneath the date, Rin slowly placed his pen to paper.

Oublie-le (Forget him)

I've told myself that more than once.

Every year when I return to your hometown, I quietly reflect on how it feels as though time has eternally stopped in this place. Year after year, the same paths remain adorned with flamboyant blossoms, and the elderly lady who runs the flower shop is still healthy—a fortunate thing indeed. If one day I returned and found her shop closed, I wouldn't even know where to find flowers as beautiful as hers again.

This time, I carry news that I'm certain you won't like. But since you've once made me feel the same way, now it's your turn to endure a little revenge.

Wait for me. I'll tell you when I arrive.

The small notebook had nearly reached its final pages. Rin capped his pen, slowly flipping back through the previous pages. Dates appeared in different forms—sometimes by day, other times by month, season, or even year. Rin turned further back, pausing when he spotted a particular sentence. His handwriting at that time wasn’t as neat as it was now; uneven and shaky, typical of a child who never seriously practiced penmanship.

I will become number one in the world .

That was written just before Rin flew to Paris and officially joined PXG, marking the start of his ten-year journey chasing after a certain silhouette.

The harder I chase after the light

The deeper I fall into darkness.

Qatar, November 20th, 2022.

I want to escape. I'm suffocating. Why? Just why, Isagi?

"Why huh?" Those blue eyes sparkled with rare uncertainty.

The hallway where they stood was dim, illuminated only slightly at the spot where he leaned. Rin rested against the wall, watching indifferently as Isagi attempted a kabedon against him. The main team and reserves had just finished practice for the round of sixteen, and before Rin could even finish changing, Isagi had dragged him to a secluded corner and bluntly confessed. Rin assumed it was merely impulsive, a rush of adrenaline from their victory achieved by the most perfect teamwork they'd ever displayed. He had never imagined Isagi would actually like him. After all, Isagi usually reserved his passion entirely for the soccer ball on the field.

Crossing his arms, Rin said calmly, "Well, if you like me, you must have a reason, right?"

Isagi seemed taken aback by Rin’s composure. Rin wasn’t reacting violently or lashing out as he had anticipated.

"Ah… right." It seemed only then Isagi realized, stepping back slightly, tilting his head thoughtfully, "…Why do I?"

"Seriously?" Rin’s expression darkened slightly, "You're done for, Isagi."

"Wait... I'm just confused right now! I thought you'd react strongly, maybe disgusted, irritated, call me stupid or something similar. I was even prepared to get punched by you!"

"You really are stupid," Rin sighed.

"Hey, now—!"

Before he could finish, Isagi felt a sudden shock as Rin grabbed his collar, pulling him down into a swift kiss. It happened so quickly that when Rin pulled away, Isagi’s mind was still spinning.

"I thought you'd figure it out sooner. I made it so obvious," Rin shook his head wearily, repeating again, "You really are stupid."

Isagi was even more shocked. Obvious? Rin had never shown him any friendly expressions before. Usually, if Rin wasn’t scowling at him, he was ignoring him completely—quite different from how he treated everyone else...

Wait a moment? The black-haired striker suddenly realized—quite different from everyone else?

"You… also like me the way I like you?" Even as Isagi asked, he felt foolish. He truly belonged to the Blue Lock idiot club. The feelings he had expected to wither had somehow blossomed.

"Move. I don’t talk to idiots."

Rin pushed him away and turned to leave. Dazed, Isagi noticed Rin's ears had turned bright red. A radiant smile spread across Isagi’s face as he chased after Rin, boldly intertwining their fingers. Rin tried unsuccessfully to shake him off, scowling in irritation.

"Idiot, let go of me!"

"Nope," Isagi grinned. "Even if I die, I'll never let go."

The determined sparkle in Isagi’s eyes made Rin’s heart race as if he'd just played a full ninety minutes on the pitch. At that moment, he believed their hearts beat together as one.

Looking back later, Rin realized that was truly the most sincere lie Isagi ever told.

Je t'aime (I love you)

It seems I'm the only one who can't forget everything.

Saitama, July 28, 2027.

Summer wasn't exactly our favorite season, so I never understood why you chose such a scorching time. That year, I thought you'd succeeded in making me hate summer forever.

It seems that day was also a gentle summer day like this.

Sunlight tilted, drifting gently across scattered flamboyant petals along the road. Golden blossoms settled softly on the nearly identical black suits worn by two figures walking side by side. Sae glanced at the person beside him, his indifferent gaze briefly touched by sorrow. In such a short time, his younger brother had grown alarmingly thin. Rin's eyes were deeply sunken, his cheekbones sharp, and behind his frozen eyes seemed to lurk an explosive trigger, ready to detonate at any moment.

Brushing off a golden flamboyant petal from Rin’s shoulder, Sae quietly cautioned, "Rin, try not to do anything rash later."

Rin didn't reply, appearing as though he didn't even hear his brother’s words. He walked alongside Sae like a lifeless puppet, every step heavy as if chained to the ground.

Gradually, the flamboyant trees fell behind them. Crossing the street, they approached an open area where a group dressed in black awaited.

"Sae-san, Rin." Someone called to them from the gate. Sae saw Reo hurrying towards them. Behind him, Bachira was sobbing uncontrollably, comforted by Chigiri and Kunigami. Nagi and a few others stood silently to one side, and he even noticed the distinctive blonde-and-blue ombre of the German striker. Reo, whose expression seemed the most composed, guided the Itoshi brothers inside, speaking softly.

"I thought you two weren't going to come today either. The funeral rituals and preparations were finished a few days ago; now it's just the burial."

Sae glanced again at Rin, relieved to see he was seemingly calm. "Seemingly," because Sae never knew when his brother might suddenly explode. Holding back a sigh, Sae drew Rin into the group, watching as the coffin was lowered into the ground and earth began to cover it. Soft weeping echoed quietly across the cemetery. With dark, aquamarine eyes fixed intently upon the coffin disappearing beneath the soil, Rin felt strangely amused by how Sae kept glancing anxiously at him.

His brother still didn't understand him at all. Rin wouldn't go mad, wouldn't dig up the coffin to demand answers from the deceased, and certainly wouldn't wail or scream. Though his nerves were stretched to their breaking point, throughout the entire burial, Rin silently watched the grave taking shape. Clearly engraved was the name Isagi Yoichi, along with his birth and death years.

Isagi had died in the summer when he was eighteen.

That entire day, sunlight painted beautiful, golden hues across his gravestone. As Rin left the cemetery, he briefly lifted his gaze toward the sunny blue sky and felt the sting of the sun scorching his eyes.

At that moment, Rin knew his heart had been buried alongside him forever.

I removed my protective shell and handed you my heart,

Your silence was the gentlest mercy you could grant me.

Paris, September 9, 2021.

I suddenly realized, in all the time we'd known each other, Isagi had never been silent with me. I'd witnessed many sides of him, but silence was never one of them. He wasn't particularly talkative; most of the time, he was quietly lost in thought. Occasionally, he would unconsciously mumble his thoughts aloud, rarely noticing he did it. Even then, whenever I approached, he would instantly shift his attention to me.

When I met his eyes back then, I saw my own reflection clearly in them. It felt incredibly magical, as if I were his entire world.

Yet, the truth was the exact opposite: he was my entire world.

My Yoichi [only world].

Kanagawa, April 1, 2023.

Perhaps until that moment, he'd never been silent with me because he remembered how much I disliked it. I knew my personality wasn't the easiest—hot and cold, temperamental, troublesome as a lover could be. Once, I'd told him that if I ever upset him, he should just tell me. We could argue or fight—I just hated people who kept everything bottled inside like my brother did. At that moment, he asked me, "If I ever went silent on you, would you hate me?"

I told him I'd not only hate him, I'd break things off completely. He laughed then, promising, "I'll never go silent on you!"

I should have known then—he was such a damn liar.

But even though he's now forever silent with me, I still don't hate him.

It seems I'm a liar too.

Your name engraved herein,

So that time may pass without a trace.

Your lie will determine the rest of my life.

July 21, 2020.

You promised you'd call me every day, so why don't you answer when I finally call you?

Toronto, June 2026.

Lately, I've been thinking about death a lot. Not death in the literal sense, nor social death. I still have my life, football, the field—I haven't yet reached that final step. Whether it's before or after me, there are always new stars rising. The relentless spinning wheel of life never allows me enough time to dwell too deeply.

Perhaps this vague desire arises from longing.

In my youth, the shadow my brother left made me despise waiting. Later, your presence changed me. Yet at the same time, you unintentionally cast another shadow upon me—a shadow called longing.

I hate chasing after your shadow all these years—the deep blue moon I first saw when I was sixteen. A moon so beautiful yet distant, I may never reach it in my lifetime.

I stubbornly stood outside the world,

Even breathing became a luxury.

If given another chance, I'd surely fall in love with you again.

Rin still remembered that dazzling moment. Cheers roared like an ocean storm, his name chanted like a chorus within the stadium. Amidst the waves of sound, someone immediately sprinted towards him. A fleeting vision of the match against the U20 team flashed through Rin’s mind, and he nearly predicted what would happen next. Yet, Isagi still managed to surpass even Rin’s imagination.

"Rin!" Isagi shouted his name, and instead of knocking him over, he lifted Rin into the air. The bright lights illuminated Isagi’s dark-green hair amidst the joyous celebrations echoing around them. Feet dangling above the ground, Rin stared down in surprise, seeing Isagi smile like a moon shimmering on water’s surface.

Beautiful and surreal, like a dream.

"You scored!" Isagi shouted again, refusing to let his voice drown amidst thousands chanting Rin's name. "You scored the first goal in the final! Can't you be a little more excited?"

At that moment, Rin saw the blue moon reflected in Isagi’s eyes, radiant yet gentle. The legendary blue moon—said to be the greatest blessing mankind could witness. Perhaps adrenaline had made Rin a bit reckless; he leaned forward, shielding their faces with his hand, creating a deceptive angle, and kissed Isagi.

The hands holding Rin’s thighs trembled slightly; Isagi nearly lost his footing. He carefully placed Rin down, still dazed, only to freeze when he saw the faintest smile on Rin’s lips.

"That was just the first goal. I'll surpass all of you, score the rest, and become the number one striker."

Rin’s challenging declaration ignited Isagi’s competitive fire. Wiping sweat from his brow, Isagi rolled his eyes playfully. "Easier said than done, Mr. Striker."

As he glanced around the gradually quieting stands, a smile appeared on Isagi’s face—one Rin wouldn't forget even ten years later.

"Just wait. I'll be the one who becomes the number one striker."

Those words were a deep, implicit promise that they would forever coexist and compete on the pitch alongside the round ball. Rin briefly imagined that even if they parted ways, encountering Isagi again in future matches—regardless of the jersey he wore—wouldn't necessarily feel sad.

The pitch was their life—the sanctuary engraved with each footprint, bearing witness to an eternal vow shaped through exchanged glances, every pass, and each net-shaking strike. They would always be who they were—striker Isagi Yoichi and striker Itoshi Rin, never once relinquishing the burning desire pulsing endlessly in their veins to reach the eternal peak, never faltering on the one and only path they chose in life.

Thus, Rin could never fathom why Isagi silently vanished from the pitch, from their own sanctuary, leaving behind an unfinished vow, a destination that had never once faded in the depths of his ocean-waved eyes.

The blue moon was like a lone traveler in endless darkness. Only the night truly understood its dreams and desires.

Like the rare blue moon, Isagi disappeared without return.

Leaving behind only pure darkness filled with restless souls.

Your name engraved herein,

I bury you beneath the dust.

If not, how could I bear living the rest of my life?

"You're okay with it, right, Rin?"

Leaning his head onto Rin's shoulder, Isagi suddenly asked.

Rin was immersed in a French book. For half a year now, he'd been seriously studying French almost every day. Foreign languages were Rin’s second-best skill after football; in just six months, he'd already mastered reading many books, while Isagi still struggled with German grammar.

Without looking up from the page, Rin replied tersely, slightly irritated by the interruption, "Okay with what?"

"Long-distance relationship," Isagi smiled.

"Paris and Munich aren’t that far apart."

"They are," Isagi insisted. "Even within the same city, playing on different teams would feel distant."

Not receiving any further response, Isagi tilted his head up and noticed Rin's aquamarine eyes still fixed on the book. Dissatisfied, Isagi sat up abruptly, snatching the book from Rin's hands.

"Hey!" Rin snapped, annoyed.

"Do you love the book more or me more?"

"Are you stupid?"

Instead of answering, Isagi slid his hands beneath Rin's shirt, tickling his sides. Rin jolted, not having time to react before Isagi pinned him down onto the floor. The soft carpet smelled faintly of cologne.

Why did a guy have to live so meticulously and neatly…?

Before Rin could finish his mental complaint, Isagi leaned down and kissed him deeply. The kiss, laced with sulky jealousy, seemed designed to torment him. Rin’s breath was gradually stolen away, leaving him uncomfortable. He tried to push Isagi off, but Isagi caught his wrists midway, gently tracing his thumb along Rin’s veins. Ending the kiss, Isagi asked coldly,

"Who do you love?"

Isagi's sulking, half-serious, half-playful demeanor was truly Rin’s weakness. He sighed, "You."

"Call me 'big brother,'" Isagi ordered.

"Don't push it, Isagi. You're only five months older."

"Still a year above you in school," Isagi teased. "'Senpai' works too."

"Bullshit!"

"Ewwwww!"

"Fuck you!" Rin shouted, tackling the person laughing hysterically onto the floor. Clearly having just tickled him, Isagi was now the one cracking up, thoroughly amused. Rin realized, amidst their playful wrestling, that after the kiss following the match—Blue Lock players, perhaps even everyone, probably knew they were dating. If that were true, it would indeed be troublesome.

"So, what's your definition of long-distance love?" Isagi’s voice pulled Rin out of his thoughts.

Rin answered instinctively, "When you're so far apart, you can’t even meet anymore."

It was only later that Rin truly understood how many meanings "far away" could have.

Living in a city bright with lights,

I've buried you beneath layers of dust.

If I hadn't done that, how could I live the rest of my life?

Paris, September 2023.

Isagi,

I'm losing sleep again. Maybe I've had too much free time lately, and it's made me start overthinking—just like you used to. There was a period when I slept endlessly because, in those dreams, you'd always come back. Later, the doctors said it was a psychological disorder. Apparently, I have many psychological issues, and they claimed you were the root of all of them. They even recommended therapy.

The treatment didn't go very smoothly, so eventually, I stopped going. Still, at least I'm better now than when I first lost you. Back then, I didn't leave my room for an entire week. Eventually, Sae came back, and somehow, miraculously, he managed to drag me to your burial.

Oh right,

He said, “You're such a hopeless lover. He’s already dead, and you wouldn’t even go see him one last time.”

Damn my brother—his provocation always worked on me.

Searching for your silhouette, even among the crowds, you still appear clearly in my mind.

I tried not to think about you,

But memories keep pulling me back into the past.

Kanagawa, January 2024.

That year, I asked them, "Where exactly did he go?"

They told me, "The deep sea swallowed him up."

I was the closest person to you, yet I was the last to know.

Kanagawa, January 2024.

Isagi. Isagi. Isagi Yoichi.

Yoichi,

I miss you. Miss you. Miss you! Miss you!!!

I think I should do something so that I can finally stop missing you.

Your name engraved herein,

Letting time pass without a trace.

If I love someone, I'll love only once in my life.

Madrid, November 2026.

I've lost count of how many times I've been told that I've changed. This time, the words came from my own brother. Strange, really. In our youth, he and I once drifted apart for an entire year because of that cliché phrase, "You've changed." Even now, the same script plays out, only the actors have shifted.

"Rin, you've changed again."

Sae’s voice was curt. His sharp teal eyes pierced straight into his mind. Rin placed his coffee cup down, sighing softly.

"Too bitter."

"You never complained about cappuccinos before. You even drank ristretto."

"I prefer sweet things now."

Sae appeared calm, but Rin could sense his displeasure. When annoyed, Sae slightly furrowed his brow. As a teenager, Rin couldn't read such subtle expressions, often labeling his brother as inscrutable. Now that he understood Sae better, he found him unbearably demanding.

"Rin, stop it," the red-haired man said, resting his head in his hand with a deep sigh. "Every time I see you, it's like you've become someone else."

Ignoring Sae’s emphasis on "someone else," Rin responded lightly, "Only my taste in food has changed."

"And every other habit," Sae frowned at Rin’s unfamiliar smile. "You used to hate routines like calligraphy. Now everything you do is so disciplined."

Rin was impulsive by nature, making his transformations difficult to understand. Even though Sae had long since realized the cause, logic alone couldn’t fully explain Rin’s motivations.

The young man with dark moss-green hair asked casually, "Isn't that a good thing?"

"It’s not about good or bad. These aren’t Itoshi Rin’s habits—they aren’t my brother’s."

"Itoshi Rin is just a name. No matter how I change, I'm still me."

Sae regarded him deeply. "It’s not just a name."

Facing his brother’s sharp gaze, Rin offered a bland smile. He’d faced many similar looks, mostly from therapists he'd encountered. He hadn’t expected Sae to delve into psychology lately, though it clearly didn’t apply well to family.

Pushing aside the now-cold coffee, Rin calmly changed the subject. "Do you know the only thing the living can do for the dead?"

A hint of suspicion flashed in Sae’s teal eyes as he probed, "Complete their unfinished dreams?"

"No," Rin immediately refuted, seeing through his brother’s intention. "The only thing we can truly do is remember them. Great individuals have statues carved and their legacies honored forever. The rest fade away and are gradually forgotten."

He paused, speaking deliberately, "I want to be the last person to forget him."

That summer, as dirt filled the grave, it also buried his dream of becoming number one. Isagi didn't need someone else to fulfill his dream; it only had meaning while he was alive, striving for it himself. "Completing a deceased person's dream" was merely consolation for those left behind, easing the pain of loss. Rin refused to disrespect Isagi’s pride in that way. All he wanted was to engrave Isagi's name deeply within himself.

Even if people once called them inseparable, in reality, they were two independent beings with separate minds and wills. Rin knew changing his habits to resemble Isagi wouldn’t actually turn him into Isagi—such a thought was absurd. He only did so to remember clearly. The world already knew Itoshi Rin; his presence was deeply established in football. But Isagi wasn't like that. He wasn't someone great enough to live eternally in people's memories. Over time, every detail about him would distort, becoming a vague, distorted image—not the real person—and ultimately be forgotten.

"I don't want anything about Isagi Yoichi to be distorted in my memory."

"It's futile. Time distorts everything."

"Maybe you're right, but I don't care."

Beneath his turquoise eyes lay unwavering determination. Rin stared directly at his brother, resolutely declaring, "I don't care what time distorts. Five years, ten years, my entire life—however long I live, that's how long I'll remember."

"Rin!" Sae finally lost his patience at Rin’s stubbornness. "Isagi chose to end his life, so let him rest in peace."

Those words struck the most vulnerable part of Rin’s heart, clouding his eyes.

"Who said he committed suicide?" Rin asked coldly. "Did Isagi’s ghost come tell you that?"

"Don’t tell me you still believe it was an accident." Sae spoke with helplessness, "Rin! He cut off contact, went to a remote place. Do you really think it was just a vacation?"

"What if Isagi genuinely wanted to isolate himself for a while? Why does everyone assume he wanted to end his life?!" Rin shot up from his seat, fists clenched tightly. Every nerve in his body strained to control his rage. All these years, self-restraint was the only thing he had learned.

With Isagi gone, nobody could withstand Rin’s anger.

Taking a deep breath, Rin sat back down under his brother's startled gaze. Sae opened his mouth, but Rin cut him off.

"He left no note," Rin spoke slowly, deliberately. "Isagi wasn't the type. He had family—even if he wouldn't tell me, he would've left something for his parents. And furthermore..."

He trailed off, reaffirming firmly, "Isagi wouldn't commit suicide. Never."

Sae calmly replied, "Maybe he just wanted everyone to forget him."

Never, never. Rin repeated silently.

Isagi had a strange obsession with remembrance.

He once said his favorite flower was the forget-me-not.

I wish time could stand still,

So I could remember you a bit longer.

If given another chance, I'd surely love you again.

“Rin, don’t forget me.”

“What?” Rin turned his head, asking amidst the bustling airport noise, dozens of overlapping voices making it impossible to hear clearly.

Isagi pointed to the bouquet of forget-me-nots he'd handed Rin before his departure, gently smiling.

“The flowers you're holding—I love them because... their color matches your eyes.”

Amidst the constant flow of passengers, his voice struggled to reach Rin clearly. But reading his lips, Rin knew exactly what Isagi had said. Just as Rin was about to call him an idiot, Isagi spoke again, louder this time.

“And they also symbolize remembrance,” Isagi laughed brightly, waving to him. “Don’t forget me when you get to Paris! I'll call you every day!”

Without responding, Rin pulled his suitcase into the line at the departure gate. Halfway through, for reasons he couldn’t understand, he turned back, shouting loudly amidst the crowd:

“Then you better remember me too!”

Please remember me just a little bit longer.

The people standing ahead and behind Rin widened their eyes, surprised that this seemingly reserved young man had suddenly shouted. Rin faintly heard Isagi’s laughter echoing from afar, feeling embarrassed as he turned around, refusing to glance back again.

Tokyo, September 9th, 2022.

I don’t want to remember.

He’s already gone, and I don’t want to search for the reason. I understood him. The answer he wished to hide would never be found—not even by me.

Madrid, December 24th, 2026.

I lied. There was indeed a period when I tried to uncover the reason behind his death. I contacted many people, mostly former forwards from Blue Lock, to ask questions.

During our time together, he shared a lot with me. Some things only I knew, like his life before entering Blue Lock, the regret he felt when personally eliminating former teammates, or the hidden fears he harbored before the U20 match. He never hid anything from me, and everything he said matched perfectly with what his friends recounted. Ironically, this only left me more confused. If he never lied, then why did he quietly visit that remote beach?

I always believed it was a drowning accident, but belief isn't the same as truth. No one could uncover the truth when there were so many inexplicable factors surrounding this story. Why, ultimately, would he go to an isolated beach and quietly end his life when there was still so much left unfinished?

Unlike Sae, I never once believed he committed suicide. Isagi had no reason for it, nor did he exhibit any psychological signs indicating that outcome. No note, no final message, no hint at all that he'd abandon life halfway through. I genuinely believed it was an accident. Still, occasionally, other assumptions crept into my mind.

Around mid-2025, I flew to Munich to meet Kaiser. At that time, he was a superstar, dominating for several seasons, and arranging a meeting was difficult. I never liked Kaiser’s personality, but I acknowledged he might possess information about Isagi I hadn't yet discovered. After all, they had been teammates for two seasons in Munich.

That meeting turned out to be completely useless. Michael Kaiser was truly insufferable.

“His personality might've been unpleasant, but his mental state was completely normal," Kaiser cooperated willingly, recalling seriously. "He even seemed somewhat excited to experience a new environment."

“Unpleasant?” Even though he knew he was off-topic, Rin pressed on, “How exactly was he unpleasant?”

“I don’t have much time," Kaiser reminded him impatiently. "Ask whatever else you need.”

Even after the long conversation, Rin gained no new insights. However, once again he heard a familiar observation. It wasn't just his brother—every World Class player seemed annoyingly perceptive.

“You really are very similar to Yoi—I mean, Isagi.” Kaiser quickly corrected himself when he saw Rin’s murderous glare.

“The way you speak, your habits, gestures, even your smile—they all resemble him," the German striker teased. "Are you roleplaying as his Doppelgänger?” He pronounced the word flawlessly in German.

Calmly, Rin replied, “I do it to remember him.”

“You’re busy remembering him, but who will remember you?”

A proud smirk briefly appeared on Rin’s lips as he casually responded, "As long as I keep playing football, everyone will remember my name."

“It's just a name," Kaiser mocked.

“And?” Rin's turquoise eyes swept coldly over the German’s smug face as he lowered his voice. “You've held the title of [world number one] long enough—it's mine now.”

The German striker gave him a strange look, retorting, "But have you ever actually had it?"

Right. At that moment, Rin finally understood why Kaiser was so infuriating.

After all this time, Rin had never once touched that title—the name he could never erase from his heart.

Your name engraved herein,

I bury you beneath the dust.

If not, how could I bear living the rest of my life?

June 15th, 2029.

This year's Youth World Cup is full of remarkable new talents, and my list of formidable opponents continues to grow. Suddenly, I realize I’ve passed my peak. Among these young prospects, I spotted a kid who reminded me so much of you. The resemblance isn’t necessarily physical or behavioral but rather something deeper—something fundamental I can sense. Sae always criticizes me for living too emotionally even at my age, but only then does my intuition continue to sharpen.

That kid was truly talented, yet unfortunately couldn’t lead our national team to victory. If it were you, you would've done it. Back then, I scored the opening goal, and you secured the final one, leading us to that dreamlike victory.

Sometimes I feel a pang of sadness, realizing very few people still remember that glorious moment.

June 16th, 2029.

Today, I met up with that kid for a conversation. Seeing me, the boy appeared genuinely surprised. His awkwardness and embarrassment reminded me so strongly of you.

And guess what? That kid called me his idol. He said he’d worked so hard to become someone like me.

Not to become “a striker like Itoshi Rin,” but “someone like me.”

Hearing that left me somewhat confused. I've used your persona as a shield for so long, sometimes I no longer recognize who exactly those kids admire. Everyone in football knows my name, but perhaps the only one who truly knew Itoshi Rin—the real me—was you.

Maybe ever since you passed, I haven't grown up at all.

Living in a city that only reminds me of you,

I hold the key that flies toward heaven.

Keep soaring, don't worry, I'll always be here, waiting for you.

The bus stopped near the cemetery. Rin stepped down, gazing at distant golden flame tree branches. Walking further, he arrived at the cemetery gate. It was always quiet here, with only a few scattered visitors. Holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots shimmering under the sunlight, Rin slowly approached the gravestone engraved with your name.

Isagi's grave was consistently clean, proof that he was still remembered and visited by many. Rin placed the forget-me-nots before the gravestone and changed the water. Sunlight gilded the engraved name, and he smiled softly, gently pulling weeds while speaking leisurely:

"This recent transfer season, Chigiri, Reo, and Hiori all announced their retirement simultaneously. In this World Cup, there aren't many original Blue Lock members left. The youngsters nowadays grow too fast; some skip youth competitions entirely, heading straight for the national team. There's even one kid aiming to surpass me, reminding me of you back then."

Wind mingled with sunlight brushing gently across the grass. A few forget-me-not petals drifted with the wind, fluttering delicately before the gravestones. The name Isagi Yoichi gleamed brightly under the golden sunlight.

"Just to update you, I earned another individual title. Even if you're jealous, you can't compete with me anymore. Even Kaiser has fallen far behind… Well, perhaps mostly because his form has dipped these past seasons. As for Nagi, how should I say this? He's never been satisfied with second place, although I feel these media rankings aren't particularly important. Anyway, the title of number one I hold is just temporary. Who knows if I'll manage to keep it next season."

Having tidied up your grave, Rin carefully unwrapped the bouquet, meticulously placing the flowers into the vase beside the gravestone. The turquoise hue spread across the grave, painting even the summer sky above. Quietly gazing at your name for a moment, Rin smiled gently.

"Hey, Isagi, I've been waiting so long. When will you finally return to the sanctuary with me?"

Sunlight tilted and fell, embedding itself within a heart filled with longing.

Itoshi Rin's summer at age twenty-eight quietly drifted by.

Your name engraved herein,

As time passes without a trace.

If I have loved someone, I will love only once in this lifetime.

Two years later, when the number-one title was handed to another, Rin finally returned to the shore that had stolen he away from him. White-crested waves raced each other to the white sandy shore, erasing every footprint.

Standing before the vast ocean, Rin finally understood why Isagi had chosen this place.

Sunset gilded the sea, magnificently glowing amidst layers of cheering waves.

The shore was aquamarine blue.

That shore engraved a name of longing.

April 1st, 2021.

Yo-i-chi. Number one in the world.

The world's number one is Yo-i-chi.

December, 2019.

I will become number one in the world .

Paris, September 9th, 2020.

I will become Yo-i-chi.

I wish time could stand still,

So I could cherish you a little longer.

If given another chance, I would certainly still choose to love you.

April 1st, 2032.

I still call your name in my heart. Isagi. Isagi Yoichi.

Yoichi,

Perhaps, in the end, the only one stubborn about what's engraved is me.

END.