Archive of Our Own

The day Adrien Moreau arrived at Blue Lock, the atmosphere in the facility completely shifted.

It wasn’t that he was someone of athletic relevance. He wasn’t a player or a coach; no one knew him personally either. He came dressed in sleek slacks and an unreasonably crisp button-down, collar open just enough to look dishevelled in a curated way, with designer sunglasses on his nose and a suitcase that screamed luxury. Ego had introduced him in front of the teams with the kind of disdain he reserved for people with too much money and not enough skill. He called the man a “strategic investor”—whatever the hell that meant—and promptly disappeared like he couldn’t stand to breathe the same air.

But Adrien didn’t seem to mind. He smiled the way a man did when the world always gave him what he wanted. He was a foreigner – thick, French accent recognisable even through the micro-interpreters. His introduction to each player was brief, a handshake and a fake, practiced smile.

But from the moment his gaze landed on Isagi Yoichi, he became a problem.

It didn’t start with anything dramatic. Adrien didn’t make a move, didn’t flirt outright, and certainly didn’t crowd Isagi with obvious attention. He just started showing up more often. If Isagi was heading to the gym, Adrien was already there. If Isagi stayed behind after practice, Adrien somehow lingered too.

And Isagi, bless his soul, thought he was just being friendly. That was the issue. The hand on his back? Probably just a cultural thing. The way Adrien leaned in when he spoke, voice low, eyes filled with intent? Maybe he was just engaged. Even the compliments about his vision on the field or how sharp he was off it seemed, to Isagi, like respect. Nothing more. He shrugged it all off. As much as he appreciated the kind words and the interest that Adrien showed in his football, he didn’t have time to bask in it. There was training to concentrate on. Matches to prepare for.

In a typical fashion, the others noticed before he did.

Rin saw it first. His gaze never quite leaving Isagi. He didn’t say anything, but his posture changed whenever Adrien was around. His jaw would tighten, just a bit. He rarely missed a detail, and it showed in the way he flinched when Adrien laughed a little too loud at something Isagi barely remembered saying. He started watching conversations he normally wouldn’t care about, tracking the spaces Adrien occupied and how long he stayed in them.

Reo caught on next. He kept his tone light and playful but there was something new beneath the surface. A kind of tension. In any conversation with Adrien, his jokes started to carry a subtle bite. He began sticking closer to Isagi, hanging around in the background more often, watching Adrien with a careful eye even when he didn’t join in.

Even Nagi picked up on it, surprisingly enough. Nagi, who never seemed to notice anything unless it involved a screen in his face or a ball at his feet. He began hanging around the German stratum more often. Quiet and seemingly bored, he’d sit with Isagi during stretches or stay close by during drills. The phone in his hands was always there, but his eyes rarely focused on the screen, too busy watching a certain football-obsessed striker. 

The others weren’t far behind. Kurona started walking with Isagi between drills, always coincidentally in Adrien’s path. Hiori stopped pretending not to notice, eyes following Adrien with quiet calculation. Yukimiya narrowed his gaze and said nothing, which was somehow more damning than if he’d spoken. Bachira… smiled. But the kind of smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Kaiser, however, made no attempt to hide it.

“Who the hell is this walking pain in the ass?” he asked one afternoon after a scrimmage. “It’s like he’s trying to win a medal for being the most annoying pest.”

“He’s an investor,” Reo muttered,  “Apparently.”

“Great. Another clown who thinks money makes him important,” he scoffed.

They glanced across the cafeteria, where Adrien had somehow secured the seat next to Isagi. He was mid-sentence, gesturing with one hand, a bottle of overpriced water in the other. The topic seemed to be Isagi’s “next-level vision” and “brand potential”, delivered like a TED Talk no one even asked for. Every few lines, he dropped a compliment so sugary it bordered on sarcasm. Isagi just nodded along, unfazed even when Adrien leaned a little too close, hand brushing the back of his chair.

Rin stood up without a word and left the table.

After that, shit hit the fan.

Yukimiya “accidentally” spilt his smoothie on Adrien’s blazer. He apologised with a smile but didn’t look especially sorry.

Kurona gave Adrien the wrong directions to the media room. Twice. Both times Adrien wandered back, looking mildly confused but still smiling.

Reo stopped engaging with him completely. No greetings, no eye contact, not even a fake laugh. Just silence and the occasional raised eyebrow when Adrien started one of his monologues.

Hiori began sitting nearby whenever Adrien tried to get Isagi alone. He never said anything, just opened his tablet and listened without looking up. Somehow, that was particularly unnerving.

Barou didn’t even waste any words. The one time Adrien stepped into the gym during strength training, Barou dropped a weight with a thud and didn’t even look at him. That was enough to make Adrien flinch, visibly uncomfortable.

Bachira did his own thing. Every time Adrien showed up, he’d start humming these weird, offbeat little tunes. It made everyone vaguely uneasy. He never looked at Adrien while doing it, just kept going until Adrien left the room. Nobody said a word, but you could tell it was meant to get under his skin.

Kaiser, on the other hand, couldn’t be any less subtle even if he tried. The moment Adrien opened his mouth in the locker room, Kaiser cut in without even looking up. “Did anyone ask you?” he said, loud enough for Noa to hear, his grin dripping with mockery. On another occasion, “Cool story. Maybe keep it quieter next time.” He never bothered using Adrien’s name—just called him “this guy”, like he was nothing more than a background character. And all the while, that smug, self-assured smile never left his face, like he knew exactly how much it got under Adrien’s skin.

And Isagi? Still hadn’t noticed a thing.

Which, somehow, was the most maddening part of all.

---

It was supposed to be a quick strategy review.

At least, that’s what Isagi thought when he walked into the tactics room with his tablet under one arm. He was still cooling down from morning training, shirt sticking slightly to his back, hair damp with sweat. He even decided against a shower, thinking this would be short and simple. Just a meeting to go over plays. In and out.

But of course, nothing was ever that simple when Kaiser was involved.

The lights were low, and the projector was already running, splashing unfinished formations across the far wall. Arrows pointed in confusing directions. Red circles highlighted... something. Honestly, Isagi thought it made zero sense.

Kaiser was leaning against the wall, casually watching the projector like he could barely be bothered. But the moment his eyes landed on Isagi, his expression changed. That smug smile crept onto his face, as if he’d just found exactly what he was looking for. He looked way too pleased to see him, clearly already planning out how to annoy Isagi the most effectively.

Isagi hadn’t even managed to sit down before Kaiser spoke.

“You’re being wasted out wide,” he said, pointing lazily at the screen. “These setups suck.”

Isagi raised an eyebrow. "You made these.”

Kaiser smirked. "Exactly. And they’re still trash. Which is why I brought in a second opinion. It's a compliment, consider yourself lucky."

Isagi let out an exasperated sigh and dropped into a chair. "Great. Can’t wait to clean up your mess."

What followed wasn’t really a strategy meeting. Honestly, it felt more like two soccer nerds arguing over who got to hold the marker. Isagi kept pointing out holes in Kaiser’s plans, and Kaiser kept responding with sarcasm and fake praise.

“Look at this,” Isagi said, pointing at one of the projections. “You’re sending me wide, but no one shifts to cover the middle. That's just free space for the other team.”

Kaiser leaned in slightly, “Maybe I left it open on purpose. So you’d have no choice but to come running back to me.”

“You mean running back to fix whatever disaster you caused?”

Kaiser grinned. “Call it what you want. Sounds like teamwork to me.”

Isagi gave him a flat look. “Pretty sure teamwork doesn’t involve baiting your own forward into a tactical sinkhole.”

“Pretty sure it does if it means I get to watch you work your magic under pressure,” Kaiser shot back. “You get all intense and aggressive. It’s kinda hot.”

Isagi groaned, his ears and cheeks turning red.  “Can you go five minutes without trying to get on my nerves?”

“In Germany, this is considered bonding.”

Isagi shot him a tired look and muttered, “Yeah, remind me never to bond with anyone from Germany.”

Kaiser looked like he was preparing something even worse when the door creaked open behind them.

“Am I interrupting?”

Both Isagi and Kaiser looked up. Standing in the doorway was Adrien Moreau, his blazer neat, arms loosely folded across his chest. His face was neutral, but his eyes were sharp and observant. He glanced between the two of them, then focused on Isagi with a knowing look.

“I need to borrow Yoichi for a few minutes,” he said, his tone measured.

Kaiser’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “He’s busy.”

Adrien took a few slow steps into the room, oozing confidence with each one, like he was used to walking into private meetings and making them about himself. Which, he most likely was. 

“It won’t take long. It’s about a campaign proposal. Sponsorship-related.”

Isagi, ever polite, stood partway. “Sure, no problem. The meeting’s almost over anywa—””

“No,” Kaiser cut in, his voice harsher than expected. Adrien and Isagi exchanged a quick look. “We’re not done yet. Unless you plan on throwing next week’s game, Yoichi.”

Adrien tilted his head slightly, not quite smiling anymore. “I wouldn’t dream of undermining your leadership, Michael.”

Kaiser said nothing. If looks could kill, Adrien wouldn’t be standing there. The tension between them was impossible to ignore.

The message was clear.

“Don’t worry, Yoichi. Your performance comes first. We’ll discuss this proposal later.”

With that, Adrien turned and walked out.

---

Rin didn’t say anything when he walked into the analysis room and spotted Isagi already there. The overhead lights were dimmed, letting the big screen on the wall glow brighter against the dark walls. Isagi sat in front of it, remote in hand, replaying a clip from PXG’s last match. His eyes didn’t leave the screen,  brows furrowed in concentration. He didn’t even glance over when Rin came in.

Rin paused near the doorway, watching him for a moment. There was something about seeing Isagi like this that always fascinated him, though he’d never admit it out loud. So focused, completely absorbed, like the rest of the world didn’t matter. That intensity pulled Rin in, making him wish that Isagi would look at him the same way.

Eventually, he stepped further into the room and sat down in one of the chairs facing the screen.

Isagi glanced over at the sound of the chair shifting. As soon as Isagi noticed him, his face lit up. “Rin! You’re here early.”

“You’re here earlier.”

Isagi gave a sheepish smile, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. “Yeah... I guess I am.”

He turned back to the screen. “I was watching PXG’s last match. You changed up your formation in the second half, didn’t you?”

Rin leaned back, arms folded. “What, got nothing better to do than pick apart my plays?”

Isagi hit rewind and paused the clip on the screen. “Here — when PXG switched formations, your move opened space on the left.”

Rin frowned, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, I noticed. Ubers weren’t ready for it.”

Isagi glanced at him. “You made it look easy. But it left a gap behind you.”

Rin’s jaw tightened. “Every move has a risk. You have to take it if you want to win.”

Isagi nodded slowly, his expression serious. “Risk and reward.”

They watched the replay once more, then Isagi switched to another clip without a word. The room filled with quiet conversation as they exchanged perspectives, each point and rebuttal slowly building tension between them.

Then the door opened.

“Well. This is... intense.”

Rin’s whole body went still.

Adrien Moreau walked in like he owned the place. He glanced at the screen, then at Isagi, then finally at Rin.

“Didn’t expect such a serious mood. Match prep already?”

Isagi turned, a little surprised. “Yeah. PXG’s our next opponent. Just reviewing some of their positioning.”

Adrien nodded. “Of course. You're always so dedicated.” His eyes lingered on Isagi. “Just don’t forget to relax once in a while.”

Rin didn’t miss the way Adrien stepped in closer.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. I like doing this.”

“I know. That’s what worries me.”

Rin stood up abruptly, his voice dripping with unmasked disdain. “If you’re not here for something important, leave. We’re in the middle of something.”

Adrien turned to him slowly. “Just checking in. Thought maybe Isagi could use a break.”

“He doesn’t need you for that.”

“Rin,” Isagi cut in, voice tense. “Don’t.”

Adrien raised his hands as if to defuse the moment. “No harm meant. I’ll leave you to it.”

As he passed, Adrien reached out and ruffled Isagi’s hair with a quick, almost playful motion. 

Rin’s eyes stayed on the spot where Adrien’s hand had just been. Isagi let out a small, embarrassed laugh and brushed at his hair like he was trying to shake off the touch.

Rin said nothing. But in his mind, he was already putting space between Adrien and Isagi, making sure the man couldn’t get close or leave any mark.

---

Nagi didn’t care nuch for other people. Most of them were loud, annoying, or just too much trouble. He liked Reo and he liked Isagi. Other than that, he ignored pretty much everyone else unless they forced themselves into his line of sight.

He drifted through most days in a half-asleep daze, moving on instinct and habit more than anything. To him, very few things were worth the energy. Everything came easy if he didn’t overthink it, so he didn’t. But at times, he craved a certain kind of peace. And that usually meant finding Isagi.

Tonight, he found him in the media room.

The room was quite dark, the only real source of light coming from the wall-mounted screen where match footage played in slow loops. Isagi was on the floor with his back against the wall, eyes focused on the big screen playing match footage in slow loops. He held a pen between his lips, chewing absently on the end of it while watching intently, seemingly too caught up in the recording to notice anything else.

He couldn’t help staring at Isagi’s lips. The way they pressed around the pen. He wondered, briefly, how soft they were, then shoved the thought away before it slowed him down.

Reo was there too. He sat close to Isagi, close enough that their arms nearly touched whenever one of them shifted. His eyes were on the screen, but not really watching it. More often, he glanced at Isagi when he thought no one would notice. The way Isagi leaned forward slightly when something caught his eye. The quiet way his mouth moved around the pen cap while he thought. Reo looked like he was studying a different kind of game entirely.

Nagi stepped in silently and dropped down beside them. Then, without asking, he stretched out and rested his head in Isagi’s lap. Isagi didn’t react much, already used to Nagi’s touch, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth around the pen. His eyes stayed on the footage, one hand drifting absentmindedly to rest against Nagi’s hair, petting him like he was a fluffy dog.

Reo watched them for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh, not entirely unhappy.

“You’re too intense,” Nagi murmured, voice soft and half-muffled against the fabric of Isagi’s hoodie.

Isagi didn’t look away from the screen. “And you’re too lazy, genius.”

Nagi closed his eyes. “We’re opposites. That’s why football with you is so much fun.”

A quiet chuckle came from Reo’s side. 

“You guys are ridiculous,” he said, but there was no edge to it, just fondness.

Nagi hummed without opening his eyes. “You went ahead to meet Isagi on your own, huh? Traitor.”

Reo shrugged, leaning back a little. “I thought you were taking a nap. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“Yeah, I was.” Nagi stretched out, eyes still closed. “Did I miss anything good?”

“Only Isagi talking to himself again.”

“I wasn’t talking to myself,” Isagi said quickly, his face suddenly burning bright red.

“You kind of were.”

Nagi murmured in a sleepy haze. “I bet it sounded pretty good too.”

Isagi groaned, hiding his face with his hands, cheeks burning even more.

Before anything else could be said, the door slid open.

Adrien Moreau stepped into the room, holding two coffee cups in one hand. His eyes quickly found the blushing Isagi, barely acknowledging the others. His face remained neutral, but something about the way he looked at the striker made Reo and Nagi tense up. 

“I figured you might still be working. I thought you could use a break.”

Isagi, slightly surprised, gave a small, polite smile. “Oh…thanks. That's really sweet of you.”

He moved to sit up, and Nagi’s head slipped from his lap. Nagi didn’t say anything or try to stop him, just adjusted slightly and watched with cold eyes.

Adrien stepped closer, handing Isagi the drink. His fingers brushed against Isagi’s knuckles like it meant something. Maybe to him it did. Isagi clearly didn’t care.

“You’re really focused,” Adrien said. “Always impressive to watch.”

“You know, caffeine stops your growth,” Nagi said flatly.

Isagi chuckled. “Pretty sure I’ve already stopped growing.”

“Exactly.”

Reo raised an eyebrow. “That's a myth, Nagi.”

Adrien didn’t look at either of them. “Still, it’s best to take it easy.”

Nagi yawned, stretching both arms over his head before folding them behind his neck.

“We were in the middle of something,” he said.

Isagi looked at him, confused. “Were we?”

“Yeah,” Nagi said, closing his eyes. “Now I have to start over.”

Adrien’s smile looked fake as he turned to Nagi. “I need to talk with him for a bit. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

He put his hand on Isagi’s arm. This man was way too touchy with Isagi for someone who didn’t even belong in Blue Lock. Isagi didn’t pay it any mind and got up to follow him outside.

The door closed behind them.

Reo growled under his breath and leaned back against the wall.

“That was fucking annoying,” he said.

Nagi didn’t say anything. He rolled onto his side and rested his head in Reo’s lap. Reo stayed still for a moment, then relaxed and put his hand lightly on Nagi’s shoulder.

They stayed silent, replaying the moment over and over in their minds.

After a while, Nagi muttered, “I’m going to kill that guy.”

Reo’s fingers tightened slightly.

“I'll bail you out.”

---

The lounge wasn’t anything special.

Just a couple of old couches, a fridge that hummed too loud, and the faint, ever-present smell of sweat. Nothing fancy, but after training, most of the guys needed somewhere to cool down. The lounge was quiet and kind of cosy. That made it the best place to crash.

Isagi was sprawled on one of the beaten-up couches, head resting against the edge, hoodie bunched beneath his neck like a pillow, legs dangling half off the cushions. A water bottle rested lazily by his side. His hair was still damp from the post-training shower, and he could barely keep his eyes open. 

Kurona was the first to find him, slipping in with his usual calm presence. His eyes did a quick sweep of the room before settling on the slouched figure on the couch. Without a word, he walked over and sank into the seat beside him.

“Dead? Dead?” he asked, one brow raised.

Isagi mumbled without opening his eyes, “Half.”

That made Kurona giggle. “Those sprint drills are going to kill us before Ego ever gets the chance to.”

A few seconds later, soft footsteps padded into the lounge. Hiori wandered in with his tablet in one hand and a towel hanging around his neck. He glanced over at the couch and gave a small, tired smile.

“Figures I’d find y’all passed out in here.”

“Mmmngng,” Isagi just mumbled, half out of it.

Kurona shifted, pulling one leg up onto the couch. “We’ve got, what, thirty minutes before Noa drags us back out?”

“That's optimistic,” came Yukimiya's voice from behind them.

Even after a brutal training session, Yukimiya walked in looking like he was ready for a photoshoot. Still in his jersey, his glasses were perched neatly on his nose, not a hair out of place. Without a word, he reached down, picked up Isagi’s legs, and settled into the spot where they’d been, resting the legs on his lap.

Isagi groaned but didn’t argue.

Kurona gave him a look.

Yukimiya ignored it.

Lately, the three of them just kept ending up around Isagi like this. It wasn’t planned; it simply felt right. They weren’t hovering or demanding his attention like Rin, Kaiser, or even Barou. Instead, they found peace in letting Isagi rest with them close by. It was comforting just to be near him.

Isagi didn’t see the feelings behind their actions, their words. He was too oblivious for his own good.

He glanced at them, cheeks still a little pink from the shower, eyes warm with a sleepy kind of trust. That soft little smile, the one he did not even realise he was giving, made the boys’ hearts skip a beat.

Kurona unscrewed his water bottle. “Hey, Isagi.”

“Mmh?”

“You were off in the first half.”

Isagi shifted slightly, eyes still mostly closed. “Yeah. I got stuck between options. Brain wasn’t catching up.”

Hiori sat down on the floor, back to the couch, tablet already open. “You hesitated on those long passes. Kurona was wide.”

Kurona nodded. “I was trying to get your attention, but you ignored me.”

“Yeah, my bad. I won’t make such a dumb mistake next time,” Isagi said, voice low with a sigh.

Yukimiya didn’t look away from him. “Maybe if you weren’t getting stalked between every drill, you’d have some space to focus.”

“Not subtle. Not subtle.”

“It’s still true,” Hiori added, not looking up.

Isagi opened both eyes now, confused. “What? Who’s stalking me?”

“You’re being followed around,” Yukimiya said flatly. “It’s like he’s everywhere you go.”

Isagi gave a carefree laugh. “You had me worried there for a second. Adrien’s just friendly.”

Yukimiya’s smile was small and tight. “So friendly he’s joined your cooldowns. And your lifts. And your—”

“Naps”, Hiori finished for him.

Kurona tilted his head. “Honestly, Isagi, it’s getting weird. Weird”

Isagi chuckled. “You all are so dramatic. He’s not that bad.”

“He’s the worst,” Yukimiya muttered, barely audible.

Then the door opened.

“There you are!”

Of course…

“I’ve been looking everywhere,” he said, voice warm. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, though I see I’m a bit outnumbered.”

“You are,” Hiori replied, completely flat.

Adrien barely paid him any mind. He turned to Isagi again. “I just need to check your schedule. Ego wants to confirm your next interview.”

“Can’t it wait?” Yukimiya asked. “He’s clearly resting.”

Adrien chuckled. “I’ll be quick.”

He stepped closer, voice softening as he spoke.

“Isagi, would you—?”

Isagi sat up a little, rubbing at his eye. “Yeah, give me a sec—”

Kurona stood up suddenly. His hand wrapped gently around Isagi’s wrist.

Adrien paused mid-step.

“I’ll go with him,” Kurona said, clearly determined.

Adrien’s eye twitched. “That’s not necessary—”

“We don’t have much time,” Yukimiya said calmly. “Training starts again in less than ten minutes. You can catch Isagi later. He doesn’t have any time for you right now.”

Or ever.

Adrien glared at the three of them. They were quiet and calm, but somehow they felt like a wall he couldn’t get around. Then he looked back at Isagi, maybe hoping he’d hesitate.

But he didn’t.

“All right”, Adrien said finally. “No rush. Just let me know when you’re free.”

Isagi gave a small nod. “Okay.”

Adrien left, and the room fell silent again.

Yukimiya let out a quiet sigh. “He’s such a leech.”

Hiori shifted his towel over his shoulder. “We’re going to have to take turns keeping an eye on him.”

Kurona finally released Isagi’s wrist and took a slow sip of water. “Like marking drills.”

Isagi blinked, clearly confused. “Wait… What are you guys even talking about?”

No one answered.

---

Barou didn’t hang around after training. He didn’t waste time with cooldown talk or forced team bonding. He came in, trained like a king, and left. He didn't care if anyone watched, and he definitely didn’t wait for stragglers.

But sometimes, Isagi stayed behind after practice, long after everyone else had gone. He wasn’t showing off or trying to impress anyone. He just kept going through stretches, redoing a few drills, or messing around with balance work. He always looked worn out but never seemed ready to call it a day. Tired as he looked, he kept going, like stopping would mean losing whatever progress he had made.

Isagi was stubborn in a way Barou recognised and could appreciate.

That night, the gym was oddly quiet. Isagi was on a bench near the vending machines, towel around his neck, hair damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. His eyes were unfocused, seemingly staring at nothing.

Barou walked over and dropped a cold drink into his hand.

“Drink,” he said.

Isagi blinked. He looked down at the bottle. It was the same brand Barou always bought.

“You bought two?” Isagi asked, surprised.

“No. That one’s yours.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Isagi gave him a look, softer than usual. “Oh. Uh… thanks.”

Barou didn’t answer. He sat beside him, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor.

Isagi took a sip. “You really went all out tonight.”

Barou scoffed. “You’re the one trying to keep up like a dumbass.”

“I was keeping up,” Isagi said, breath still a little uneven.

Barou gave him a look. “You were barely standing by the end.”

Isagi let out a short laugh, not defensive, just tired. He didn’t argue, and Barou didn’t press it.

Isagi kept talking, half to himself. Barou didn’t mind. Usually, hearing someone talk that much after practice would get on his nerves. He hated pointless chatter. But with Isagi, it didn’t hit the same. He always had something to say, and somehow it never felt like useless noise. He talked about training, about things he wanted to fix, small details that most people wouldn’t even think about. He didn’t expect a response to any of it. He just rambled on, the same way he always did when excited about something.

Barou listened without meaning to. He watched the way Isagi’s face lit up when he got into it, how his hands moved when he explained something, and how there was always this energy in him that didn’t fade even when he was dead tired.

He liked it more than he wanted to admit. Sitting next to Isagi. Hearing him go on about whatever was on his mind.

He just didn’t want it to stop.

The gym door creaked open.

Barou didn’t move, but his body tensed.

Adrien walked into the gym, and Barou knew right away he wasn’t here to train. The cologne hit first, sharp and out of place. His shirt looked more suited for a dinner reservation than a workout, and everything about him felt too put-together.

Barou didn’t need to guess what he was here for. The way he looked at Isagi made it obvious. His all-too-sweet smile seemed entirely fake.

Barou’s hands curled into fists without thinking, dull nails pressing into the skin.

“Evening,” Adrien said, like he’d been waiting for the right moment. “Figured you’d still be here. Always pushing yourself. You’re seriously impressive.”

“Thanks. I was just finishing.”

Adrien smiled, like that answer was precisely what he wanted to hear. “I brought something for recovery,” he said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a bottle with some expensive-looking label. “Helps with fatigue. Got it in Paris.”

Barou’s jaw tightened. Of course the guy showed up with some overpriced garbage and a cheap-ass compliment, acting like he knew anything about Isagi.

And of course Isagi reached for it, because he never knew when to just say no.

Entirely instinctively, he knocked the bottle out of Adrien’s hand. It hit the ground and rolled until it bumped the squat rack.

Suddenly the gym became uncomfortably quiet.

“Barou…” Isagi said, clearly upset. “What the hell was that?!”

“He doesn’t need that,” Barou said. “Or you.”

Adrien’s smile disappeared. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Barou looked at him then, “You showing up here just to hang around him like that? You’re not helping. You’re in the way.”

Adrien stood a little straighter, seemingly ready to throw hands.

Barou stood too.

Isagi stepped between them, raising a hand to Barou’s chest and pushing lightly. “Hey, calm down! Sorry, Adrien, but maybe it’s best if you head out for now.”

Adrien gave Isagi a tight smile and nodded. He stepped back, patting Isagi on the shoulder. His hand lingered just a moment too long before he turned and walked out.

Once the door clicked shut, Isagi turned to Barou, clearly irritated “I know you’re tired and tense, but that doesn’t give you the right to act like this, king.”

Barou let out a low growl, not bothering to look up. Without a word, he grabbed his weights and went back to his workout.

Isagi crouched to pick up the bottle Barou had knocked over, shaking his head. “You can act like that all you want, but don’t expect me to just stand by.”

Barou didn’t care. The shitty investor didn’t belong here. Especially not near Isagi. He wasn’t about to let some outsider act like Isagi was his property.

---

Bachira walked beside Isagi, spinning his ball slowly against his fingertips. The hall to the training pitch stretched ahead, echoing with the quiet tap of their cleats.

He liked mornings like this. Just him and Isagi. No noise, no chaos, no one trying to outdo anyone. Just the calm before the usual Blue Lock madness kicked in.

He looked over at Isagi and smirked.

“You always walk like you’re heading into battle.”

Isagi looked over, confused. “What?”

“You’re all stiff and serious. Kinda funny, actually.”

Isagi gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I’m just thinking about practice.”

“Yeah, I figured. Still, you’re really cute.”

Isagi froze for half a second, then quickly looked away, his ears turning red.

Bachira didn’t say anything else. He just kept walking, letting that hang in the air with a satisfied little smile.

The doors to the pitch opened with a soft creak, and light spilt across the turf. It was empty.

Perfect.

Bachira dropped his ball and started juggling without thinking, tapping it between his feet with quick movements. Isagi joined him a moment later, passing back and forth without saying much. They didn’t need to.

There was always something easy about playing with Isagi. Like they spoke the same language without using words.

After a while, Bachira spoke up again.

“Wanna go one-on-one? First to three?”

Isagi glanced up. “You sure you’re ready to lose this early?”

Bachira laughed. “I like your confidence.”

Isagi stepped back, ready to start.

And then—

“Yoichi!”

They both turned.

Adrien was jogging over from the far end of the pitch, cradling a ball awkwardly in his hands. He wasn’t dressed for training—just clean sneakers and a hoodie that looked brand new. His form was stiff, like someone who hadn’t played a day in his life.

“Hey, Yoichi. Glad I caught you,” he said, stopping in front of Isagi. “Thought maybe you could show me a few things. I’ve been trying to figure out the basics, but... well, I could use help from someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

He spoke like it was already decided. Like Bachira wasn’t part of the plan.

Bachira’s shoulders dropped slightly.

Isagi hesitated. “Right now?”

“Just a quick thing,” Adrien said. “You’re the best, so I figured... who else would I ask?”

Bachira stood off to the side, silent. He could already see where this was going.

Isagi hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say no—

“Pretty please?”

Then he nodded.

“Alright. I guess I can show you a few things.”

Adrien lit up like he just received the best gift.

“Awesome,” he said, stepping in closer. “Let’s start with something cool.”

Isagi slipped into trainer mode quickly, crouching down to tap the ball with his foot and explain how to control the touch. Adrien copied him, badly. His balance was off, and his passes were weak. He smiled the whole time like a damn fool.

Bachira took a step back and crossed his arms, watching.

He was already annoyed.

He knew exactly what this was. Adrien didn’t care about learning to play. He just wanted Isagi’s attention, all of it. That kind of thing wasn’t new in Blue Lock, but Adrien wasn’t one of them. He didn’t belong here. And he definitely didn’t deserve to be the one stealing Isagi’s time.

Bachira kicked his own ball softly, letting it roll a few feet away, then kicked it back with a little more force than necessary.

They’d been having fun. Just the two of them. And now he was standing here alone while Adrien laughed too loud at nothing as Isagi corrected his footwork.

Bachira’s jaw tensed. He didn’t like being pushed to the side. Not when it came to Isagi. Especially not by someone who didn’t even care about football.

Adrien giggled again at something dumb and leaned a little too close.

Bachira’s foot twitched.

If Adrien touched Isagi one more time, he was going to “accidentally” launch a pass right at his shins. Just a gentle reminder.

This was supposed to be their morning.

But fine.

Let Adrien play his little game.

It wouldn’t last.

---

It was bound to happen eventually.

The tension had been building for days. Everyone felt it. It showed in the locker room silences, the stiff passes, and the way conversations stopped whenever Adrien walked by like he owned the damn place.

The man's fake charm was wearing thin. Every time he tried to cosy up to Isagi, it left someone in the room a little more irritated than before.

And today, they’d had enough.

Rin was the first to show up. He stood in the lounge, tossing a water bottle from one hand to the other like he couldn’t decide whether to drink it or throw it at the nearest wall. He refused to sit, instead deciding to just pace in front of the vending machine, staring at it like it had personally offended him.

Yukimiya arrived next, walking in with Kurona and Hiori close behind. None of them said anything, but the way they looked around made it clear they weren’t there by accident. The air in the room seemed to shift, like everyone knew what this was about.

Reo came in a minute later. He pushed open the door too hard and looked like he’d been replaying an argument in his head the whole way there. He was clearly annoyed and not even trying to hide it, mumbling under his breath as he dropped onto the nearest couch.

Nagi followed, hood pulled over his head, phone in hand but not actually looking at it.

Kaiser showed up right after, immediately looking around like he was checking who got there before him. His jaw clenched when he saw the amount of players already gathered in the room.

Then Barou walked in, heavy steps and his usual permanent scowl. 

Last was Bachira. He wandered in casually, hands in his pockets, whistling something weird and off-key that made everyone stop for a second and glance his way. He smiled back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

They were all there now. And even though no one had called this meeting, somehow, every single one of them knew why they’d shown up.

Rin broke the silence first. “Has anyone killed him yet?”

Barou cracked his neck. “Not yet.”

“Working on it,” Yukimiya muttered, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for a fistfight.

“Do you mean emotionally or physically?” Reo asked, not looking up.

Kurona didn’t blink. “Yes. Yes.”

Bachira flopped on the couch. “Maybe we should go old school. Let’s set him on fire.”

Kaiser scoffed. “He’s not even interesting enough for a dramatic death. He’s just some stuck-up French idiot thinking he can buy his way in.”

“He asked Isagi to sit with him during dinner again,” Rin said, pacing faster now. “Yesterday.”

Nagi yawned. “He gave him a massage gun. Gift-wrapped.”

Reo’s jaw tightened. “He tried to book them a spa day on the day off. One-on-one. Private suite and all.”

Kurona chimed in, deadpan. “He asked me what protein powder Isagi uses. I told him it was powdered wasabi.”

“I swapped his cologne with citrus cleaner,” Yukimiya added. “The industrial kind.”

“I hacked his smartwatch,” Hiori said without looking up. “Now it beeps every time he gets too close to Isagi.”

Barou leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “I nearly decked him last week.”

Reo scoffed. “And he still has that smug smile like no one’s about to knock his teeth in.”

Bachira slumped back on the couch, a sly grin on his face. “Maybe Adrien thinks if he hangs around long enough, Isagi’ll finally want him or something.”

Everyone went quiet.

Then Reo exhaled. “Okay. I’ll say it. I like him.”

Rin turned, deadpan. “Didn’t you hate him because he ‘stole’ Nagi from you or some dumb shit like that?”

Reo rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah… then I got it. What Nagi saw. The Isagi Effect’s real.”

Nagi, from his spot on the couch, gave a small shrug. “Told you.”

Reo rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Yukimiya clicked his tongue. “So we’re all just admitting it now, huh?”

“I mean”, Hiori muttered, “it’s not exactly subtle.”

Barou didn’t say anything, but the glare he aimed at the ceiling was enough.

Kurona looked like he wanted to evaporate on the spot.

Kaiser smirked from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed like he’d been waiting for this meltdown to happen.

“Wow,” he said. “A whole support group. How cute.”

The room tensed.

He pushed off the wall and stepped forward. “Let me save you the trouble—Yoichi will be mine.”

Reo’s brows shot up. “Pretty sure he hates your guts.”

Kaiser’s grin didn’t waver. “Hate takes energy and attention—two things he barely wastes on most of you.

Bachira cackled. “At most you can hope Isagi’s into enemies-to-lovers.”

“Let’s not forget the problem at hand, guys,” Hiori reminded pointedly, cutting into the conversation.

“He doesn’t belong to any of us… yet,” Kurona said nervously. “But Adrien thinks he has a chance and keeps hogging Isagi all to himself. He’s an outsider. An outsider.”

“And Isagi’s too fucking nice to tell him to back off,” Rin added.

“Too nice,” Barou scoffed. “More like too clueless.”

“So what do we do?” Yukimiya asked.

Reo sat up straighter. “We do everything in our power to get him to leave Blue Lock.”

Nagi nodded, “No more solo plays.”

Everyone agreed silently. The mission was clear.

Adrien Moreau had declared war, and they were ready to fight back.

---

The next few days could only be described as… strategic warfare.

Adrien barely made it ten steps in Isagi’s direction before a Blue Lock player materialised out of nowhere to intercept.

“Yo, Isagi!” Reo practically shouted from across the training field. “Need help stretching? I read an article about dynamic hamstring warm-ups!”

Isagi blinked, confused. “Uh, sure?”

Adrien stopped mid-step, scowling as Reo dragged Isagi away by the arm, chatting animatedly about hip flexors like it was the most thrilling topic on Earth.

---

Another day, during lunch, Adrien spotted Isagi at a table alone.

Perfect.

He adjusted his hoodie, put on his best smile, and moved in—

Only to be body-checked by Barou carrying three trays of food.

“Watch it,” Barou growled, not even looking back as he took the seat across from Isagi.

“Is… is all that food yours?” Isagi asked, eyes wide.

Barou grunted. “Yours too. Eat.”

Meanwhile, in the background, Adrien rubbed his shoulder, biting back every possible French swear word that he knew.

The chaos only escalated further.

---

Adrien finally managed to catch Isagi alone. It was after curfew, lights low, most of the players either asleep or pretending to be.

Isagi had just finished reviewing footage in the analysis room and was on his way back to the dorms when Adrien stepped into his path.

“Yoichi—wait,” he said, trying not to sound out of breath even though he'd practically sprinted to get ahead of him.

Isagi blinked. “Adrien?”

Before Adrien could say anything else, a sudden clunk came from the ceiling vent.

Both of them froze.

“...Did you hear that?” Isagi asked.

CLUNK.

Then, scrape-scrape.

Then—BANG!—the vent cover clattered to the floor, and Bachira dropped down with practised ease, landing lightly on his feet.

“Whatcha doin', Adrien~?” He sing-songed, brushing the remaining dust off his hoodie.

Adrien gawked, horrified. “How— were you in the vents?!”

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Bachira said mysteriously, eyes glinting.

The hallway lights flickered.

Adrien looked around. “What is this place?!”

Isagi, completely desensitised at this point, just sighed. “Sorry. He’s just like that.”

Adrien gave up. He stormed off, muttering in French and swearing vengeance on air ducts.

---

Adrien nearly got a word in.

Isagi walked quietly through the corridor, heading back to the dorms after a long evening of drills. His mind was still replaying moments from training—what he could’ve done better, what he’d try tomorrow. He was so lost in thought, he didn’t even notice the footsteps behind him. 

Adrien followed a few steps behind, quickening his pace like he was finally ready to make his move. No distractions, no interference, just him and Isagi.

When suddenly—

“NAGI, NOW!” someone shouted from the shadows.

Nagi stepped out from a side hallway and instantly collapsed forward like gravity had betrayed him. He fell directly into Adrien’s path, sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Oops,” he mumbled.

“Agh—what the hell—!” Adrien hissed, trying to push himself up.

“Mm. My bad,” Nagi mumbled, not moving. “Lost balance.”

Isagi, now halfway down the hall, turned at the loud noise. “You guys good?”

“All good,” Nagi called back before Adrien could speak, settling more comfortably into his sprawled position on top of him.

Adrien gritted his teeth, clearly fuming. “Get. Off. Me.”

Nagi yawned. “Too much effort.”

Isagi blinked, then turned back around and kept walking. “Okay…?”

Behind him, Adrien gave Nagi a look that screamed bloody murder. Nagi just closed his eyes like none of this was even remotely his problem.

---

The cafeteria was quieter than usual. Too early for most of Blue Lock to be up, except for the die-hards and the sleepless.

Isagi sat alone in the corner, halfway through a protein bar, casually scrolling through tactics on his phone.

Then Adrien saw him.

No Rin. No Barou. No Bachira hanging upside-down from the ceiling. Just Adrien, Yoichi and a clean path. 

Finally.

Adrien adjusted his shirt, muttered a quick practice line under his breath, and stepped forward.

He didn’t make it far.

Kaiser appeared out of nowhere, sliding into his path with perfect timing. Tray in one hand, that shit-eating smirk already in place.

“Well, well,” he said, “Chasing him down before breakfast now? That’s a new low.”

Adrien’s shoulders tensed. “Move.”

Kaiser didn’t move. He studied Adrien for a moment, eyes half-lidded, voice dropping to something low and almost too calm.

“I get it. Believe me, I do. When he’s locked in like that… it’s hard to look away.”

Then the smirk came back. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’re not the only one who sees it. And between the two of us…” He leaned in just slightly. “You’re not even in the same game.”

Adrien’s jaw clenched. “He’s not yours.”

Kaiser stepped in just a little closer, grin widening. “Not yet. But he sure as hell isn’t yours either.”

Before Adrien could respond, Ness showed up, slipping in like he’d been summoned for this very moment.

“Kaiser~,” he sang quietly. “Got your breakfast. No tomatoes. And I snagged the last sweet roll. Want me to give it to Yoichi for you?”

Adrien blinked, clearly weirded out. “What?”

Ness finally looked at him, eyes wide, like he hadn’t noticed someone was standing there. “Oh. You’re still here?”

“I’m trying to—”

“No, you’re really not,” Kaiser cut in smoothly. “Because if Yoichi wanted to talk to you, he wouldn’t have picked the one time he’s finally alone.”

Adrien’s hands curled into fists. “You don’t decide that.”

Kaiser gave a small shrug. “Maybe not. But you know who does? Him. And fun fact—he keeps leaving every time you show up. You should think about that, Romeo.”

Adrien looked toward the corner. Isagi was still there, silently scrolling. Still completely unaware of the storm brewing just a few feet away.

Kaiser’s voice dropped low. “You know what this reminds me of? That game against France’s U-20s. You gave it your all. Just… wasn’t enough.”

Ness snorted.

Adrien stared at them both for another second. Then turned and walked away. 

Kaiser watched him go, unbothered. “Go give him the roll.”

Ness scoffed. “You were being serious?”

He smirked. “Always.”

With a theatrical sigh, Ness turned and made his way across the room towards the corner.

Isagi looked up as Ness approached. “Huh? What’s this?”

“Special delivery,” he said, voice tight with fake cheer as he set the sweet roll down like it weighed more than it should.

Isagi raised an eyebrow. “Is it poisoned?”

Ness gave him a deeply offended look. “Seriously?”

Isagi held his hands up in surrender, but his smile tugged at the corners. “Just checking.”

He picked up the roll, still a little suspicious.

Across the room, Kaiser gave a small wave, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

—-

After practice, the facility had finally settled into a rare calm. The usual noise and pressure that filled the air during training had slowly faded away until only silence remained.

Isagi had stayed behind to review footage, hung up on every detail as per usual. When he opened the door to the hallway and stepped out, the emptiness hit him like a quiet wave. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly walked straight into someone standing right in front of him.

It was Adrien, waiting there patiently.

“No one to block me this time,” he said, his voice low and a little rough around the edges.

Isagi looked up, surprised. 

“Oh. Adrien. Hey.” He gave a small smile. “What’s up?”

Adrien shifted his weight, trying to breathe normally. He swallowed hard.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you. Just us. I know the others haven’t made that easy.”

He looked down for a second, then met Isagi’s eyes. No more stalling.

“I like you, Isagi. A lot. You’re… incredible. On the field. Off it. I get that football comes first for you, and maybe this doesn’t matter. But I had to say it. I had to at least give it a try.”

Isagi’s eyes widened a little, and for a second, he looked like he didn’t know what to say. Then a soft flush crept into his cheeks, and he smiled gently.

“Thank you,” he said. “Really. That means a lot. But I’m not looking for anything right now. Football is… kind of everything to me. And I don’t feel the same way.”

Adrien didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, letting the words settle. They didn’t exactly sting; Isagi hadn’t meant them to.

Finally, Adrien gave a slow nod.

“Yeah. I figured,” he said. “But I had to try.”

There was a silence between them.

Then Adrien held out a hand.

“No hard feelings?”

Isagi took it right away, firm and steady.

“None.”

---

He was gone the next day.

Officially, it was for personal reasons. Unofficially, well, everyone knew he had been outmanoeuvred by an elite squad of love-struck maniacs. No one said much about it, and no one celebrated. But the atmosphere definitely changed for the better. 

That evening, the lounge was mostly empty. Isagi had a rare night off, so he stretched out on the couch staring at the ceiling. The usual noise wasn’t there, and for once, it felt like he could just breathe.

Then, without warning, Bachira flopped down beside him and casually draped his legs over Isagi’s lap.

“Comfy?” Isagi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Super comfy,” Bachira grinned.

Before he could reply, Rin appeared, silently handing him a protein shake before settling down on his other side.

Isagi eyed the bottle warily. “No wasabi this time, right?”

“Not anymore,” Kurona called from across the room, where he, Hiori and Yukimiya were leaning against the wall, quietly talking.

Reo walked in carrying a blanket and casually draped it over Isagi like he was tucking him in.

Barou grunted from the armchair. “You should be using that time to train, not lounge.”

Nagi stretched out at the other end of the couch, not looking up from his phone. “He’s earned a break. You should try it sometime.”

Rin scoffed. “Easy for you to say when you barely move.”

Reo smirked. “Come on, everyone needs a rest now and then. Even Isagi. Especially him.”

Kaiser stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching quietly with a small smile.

Isagi let out a soft laugh and eased back into the couch. The usual noise and chaos filled the room around him, and he realised how much he had missed it.

“You guys are weird,” he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Bachira’s grin stretched even wider. “Yeah, but we’re your weirdos.”

Isagi shook his head, a real smile spreading across his face, one that reached all the way to his eyes.

“…Yeah. You really are.” He smiled even brighter, a soft flush colouring his cheeks.

And for the first time in days, everything felt right.