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Another morning at Blue Lock began with yet another training match. Isagi was wide awake and full of energy, dribbling confidently and dodging other players. And yet, he could still feel someone breathing down his neck.
Damn it—he still wasn’t fast enough.
“Too slow, Yoichi.” A mocking voice purred in his ear as the ball was ruthlessly stolen from under his foot.
Only Kaiser would dare to pull something like that. Rage started bubbling up in Isagi again. Damn him! He wasn’t going to let him take the advantage this time! Clenching his teeth and cursing his oh-so-beloved rival, Yoichi charged forward. But the universe wasn’t on his side today—his lunge failed, and instead of hitting the ball, he kicked Kaiser’s ankle. The blond let out a short grunt of pain and stumbled, losing balance.
And then, before Isagi could stop, he crashed forehead-first into Kaiser’s, and the two of them went tumbling down in a heap.
A whistle blew from the coach, followed by laughter from their teammates. What a disgrace—knocking heads like a couple of grade schoolers. In a real match, that stunt would have earned Isagi a red card and a trip straight to the bench.
It wasn’t until a few seconds later that he realized something strange—he hadn’t actually felt pain when he hit the ground. Cracking one eye open, he saw what—no, who—had broken his fall.
Kaiser was lying flat on his back, frowning and rubbing his bruised forehead. Yoichi mirrored the motion, fingers prodding at the swelling lump forming on his own head. Only then did he notice the hand resting against his back.
“Comfortable, Yoichi? Planning to lie on me much longer?” The irritated voice jolted him back to reality.
Apparently the collision really had been strong, because instead of leaping up at once, Isagi just blinked stupidly and continued to use Michael as a very unwilling mattress.
Now that’s a sight. Looks damn good sitting on top of me. Shit, Yoichi, if you don’t stand up right now, something else is going to stand up instead…
That snapped him out of it completely. Eyes wide, Isagi blurted:
“W-What?! What did you just say?!”
Kaiser blinked in confusion.
“I said I’m not a pillow. Get up.”
No need to tell him twice—Yoichi scrambled to his feet and began brushing himself off in a panic. He must’ve imagined it… right?
But Kaiser said nothing more. In fact, he got up almost too quickly himself, turning away from him.
The game resumed, and there was no time left to dwell on nonsense.
***
But after training, someone clearly wasn’t ready to leave him alone.
“Your movements are terrible, Yoichi,” Kaiser scolded in a lecturing tone, hovering while he tried to change. “With technique like that, you belong in some shitty school football. How are you even still here? Kicking your opponents’ legs isn’t a solution, you know.”
God, what a pain. Did he think he was his coach or something? Isagi itched to knock that smug crown right off his bleached head and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.
Their clashes had been going on for days, and Yoichi was doing his best to ignore him—but that was proving harder than he’d like to admit.
“It’s your fault! You were the one who got in my way and stole the ball!” he snapped, sounding more like a sulking child than he intended.
That hated smug smirk curled Kaiser’s lips.
“Oh really? In a real match, are you going to make excuses like that too? Better not get in my way at all.”
Their teammates just sighed from across the room. They were used to the constant bickering and didn’t even bother paying attention anymore. Everyone just wanted to change out of their training gear and get to lunch.
Yoichi himself didn’t want to waste more time trading insults, so he pulled out his ace move and ended the argument with his head held high.
“Shut up.”
Cute. So cute when he pouts and gets mad. Makes me want to shut him up with kisses instead.
The words slammed into Isagi, making him stumble back and crack the back of his head against the wall. His poor skull…
“What the hell?” Kaiser looked genuinely surprised, as if he couldn’t fathom why Yoichi had suddenly jumped away from him like he was venomous.
Gosh, what a stupid face he’s making right now. Adorable. I’d love to—
Isagi squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently, as if to rattle the hallucination out. What the hell was going on? Kaiser’s mouth hadn’t moved, but he’d definitely heard that voice in his head. Was the morning collision really that bad? Was he having auditory hallucinations now?
“Yoichi! How many fingers?” Two long fingers were shoved in front of his face, and he found himself staring straight into those blue eyes again. Immediately, a vivid image bloomed in his mind—those same fingers being put to a very different use.
“Shove those fingers up your ass!” Yoichi shrieked in panic, then snatched up his things and bolted from the locker room in nothing but his shorts.
***
Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong, damn it! That incident hadn’t been a one-time fluke. The weirdness continued, only getting worse.
Every time he met Kaiser’s eyes, Isagi could hear his thoughts. But this wasn’t some enviable superpower that let him uncover hidden strategies or dig up his rival’s deepest secrets.
No, it was much worse. He could only hear the thoughts directly about him. And more specifically—the ones rated strictly adults only. Either that, or Kaiser’s head contained nothing else but dirty fantasies of when, where, and in what position.
By the end of the day, Isagi felt like he was sitting on needles. One way or another, their eyes inevitably met—on the field, to track his position; in the gym, when Kaiser just had to call him over again; in the cafeteria, when Yoichi glanced up and caught him staring; even in the showers, when he had to glance over his shoulder just to make sure no one was spying.
It was unbearable.
Run, run ahead, Yoichi. I’ll just enjoy the view from here.
He’d caught that stray thought during a match when he looked back to spot his rival. So that was it? All those times he’d thought he was finally pulling ahead of Kaiser… the bastard had only been letting him, just to stare at his ass?!
Look at him, all sweaty and out of breath. Hot. I’d make him pant like that again. Wonder if his stamina’s just as bad in bed?
That one had come while he was on the treadmill and Kaiser had distracted him mid-run. Whatever words he’d spoken out loud, Isagi didn’t hear—because immediately after came a whole mental slideshow: him drenched, exhausted, moaning pitifully and begging Michael for more.
What the hell was wrong with this guy’s brain? Not sticking around to listen to more taunts, Yoichi bolted from the gym to shower and change—before his disheveled state and flushed face gave the pervert more fuel for his imagination.
Such a small mouth he has. Doesn’t stop him from yelling at me so loud. I’d love to hear him scream for another reason…
That little gem slipped through during dinner, when Isagi foolishly lifted his head and felt someone’s gaze on him. He almost choked on his rice when the thought bloomed into a vivid image of Kaiser testing his mouth’s capacity firsthand.
His mouth wasn’t small! Just… average. Right? And what about Kaiser’s size—had he been exaggerating in his fantasy, or was that actually accurate?
Why was he even thinking about this?!
Appetite gone, Yoichi fled to an ice-cold shower to cool his burning face.
But it didn’t help. He kept glancing around, paranoid that this pervert lurked behind every corner, watching him and imagining god-knows-what.
And thoughts have power.
Of course he ran into Kaiser on the way out. Of course, he decided to shower right then! All it took was a single second of eye contact and Isagi’s head filled with dreamy sighs, admiration for his wet clothes clinging to his body, and flashing images of them being ripped off.
That time, Yoichi set a new personal record for fastest exit from the showers.
***
It was already deep into the night. His friends were fast asleep, breathing quietly on the beds nearby, while Isagi lay wide awake, staring daggers at the dark ceiling. But his thoughts weren’t about football, training, or the upcoming matches like usual. No—he was thinking about the absurd fact that he could now read Kaiser’s mind.
More importantly, why Kaiser had those kinds of thoughts about him in the first place.
And most importantly of all—why those thoughts didn’t make him feel anger or disgust.
They were supposed to be enemies, right? Rivals at the very least. Since when did Kaiser get the idea of fucking his opponent? And why, when he thought about it, wasn’t Yoichi completely opposed?
Wait—not opposed?! Of course he was opposed! That was insane! He had to be losing it, after spending the whole day drowning in someone else’s filthy fantasies.
He just needed to sleep. Sleep, and hope that tomorrow this madness would be over, forgotten like a bad dream.
Sleep did come. Only, it wasn’t his own dream. But Isagi didn’t realize it at the time.
Finally drifting off, he found himself once again thrown into a pit of debauchery. The second star of the dream was, of course, Kaiser. And before waking, Yoichi went through things so wild that any erotic film would’ve been jealous of the sheer variety of positions and scenarios.
When he woke in the morning, his lower back ached phantom-like, and his legs still trembled. Worse—yesterday’s “nightmare” hadn’t ended. One look into Kaiser’s eyes during morning roll call, and brand-new fantasies flooded into his head, painting his cheeks crimson.
This couldn’t go on! If he couldn’t get rid of this ability, then he’d just stop using it. From what he could tell, the mind-reading only worked with direct eye contact. So Yoichi decided: he’d simply stop looking at Kaiser. Pretend he didn’t exist.
The plan backfired almost immediately.
First, he began making mistakes on the field, narrowing his vision too much just to avoid catching Kaiser’s eyes.
Second, the constant tension of keeping on guard was exhausting.
And third—Kaiser noticed.
Because instead of snapping back at his taunts or sulking like usual, Yoichi just kept staring at the floor in silence whenever Kaiser addressed him.
Michael didn’t like that one bit. So he cornered him in the hallway to find out what was going on.
“What’s wrong with you, Yoichi? Why’d you suddenly go all quiet and docile?” Kaiser asked with a tight smirk, blocking all routes of escape. “Don’t tell me you’re sulking.”
Sulking? Well, maybe Isagi was a little hurt—after all, if Kaiser had thoughts like that about him, why torment him instead of… courting him? But sulking was the last thing he felt right now.
Not when he was staring into Kaiser’s eyes and being bombarded by scenes of himself bent like a gymnast on the balance beam. All he felt was ridiculous embarrassment. Did this pervert ever think about anything besides sex? He was worse than a horny teenager.
He couldn’t find a worthy comeback. Hard to mount a defense when your own flushed face, twisted with imagined pleasure, kept flashing before your eyes. So, in the end, he resorted to the classic coward’s trick—he stomped down hard on Kaiser’s foot and bolted.
***
That night was restless again. Yoichi dreaded closing his eyes, afraid of being ambushed by more obscene dreams.
But the obscene images came anyway—even though he was still awake. After a while, it hit him: these weren’t his dreams. They were Kaiser’s. And somehow, he was forced to witness them even while conscious. Even without looking into his eyes.
Catastrophic. Sleep was impossible with a full-blown sex marathon playing in his head. He had to admit—Kaiser’s imagination was disturbingly rich. But Isagi had no desire to spend the whole night watching porn with himself as the main actor.
And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Michael enjoy it either.
Leaping furiously from his bed, he stormed straight to the pervert’s room. Loud banging and shouts dragged a very groggy Kaiser out of sleep, and eventually, out of bed to open the door.
The “pervert” looked disheveled and half-dead with fatigue, blinking blearily at him as though he couldn’t understand why Yoichi was standing there in the middle of the night. He mumbled something incoherent.
And Yoichi froze. What exactly was he supposed to say? "Please stop fantasizing about fucking me? I can hear your dirty thoughts and they’re distracting me?" Ridiculous.
“Ah, wait. Need to grab my headphones,” Kaiser muttered, finally realizing he couldn’t understand him otherwise, disappearing into the room.
By the time he returned, the hallway was empty. Yoichi had taken the chance to retreat in a hurry—still without any idea of what he could possibly accuse his tormentor of.
***
Day three was the hardest yet.
First—he hadn’t gotten any proper sleep, thanks to someone’s never-ending erotic dreams.
Second—avoiding Kaiser was flat-out impossible. He was always there, too close, and too often Yoichi caught himself searching for him instinctively.
Worse, he was starting to get used to hearing those thoughts. So why was it still so hard? Because now, alongside them, came his own thoughts.
More than once, Yoichi wasn’t sure if the sudden urge to kiss came from Kaiser—or from himself.
After all, he was a young healthy male. How could he stay unaffected, when his head was constantly filled with someone else’s dirty fantasies?
And he envied Kaiser bitterly for being able to keep such a calm, careless expression while thinking things like that. Isagi couldn’t manage it. His friends had already started to notice, chalking up his flushed cheeks and darting eyes to some kind of illness.
He refused to see a doctor. There was no cure for the sickness named Michael Kaiser.
***
Another sleepless night loomed ahead. But unlike him, someone else clearly had no trouble sleeping—generously sharing yet another steamy dream in great detail.
And since Yoichi was young and healthy, and the initial shock had worn off, his own body reacted all too clearly to the tantalizing scenarios shoved into his head.
He tossed and turned, battling the urge to slip a hand into his pants for relief. God, was he insane? What if someone heard him? Fuck yourself, Kaiser! Or better fuck me…
A trembling hand slapped across his own face instead, delivering a sharp sting. What the hell was he thinking?!
It wasn’t even midnight yet, and Michael’s dreams were already in full swing. No way he’d make it till morning.
Slipping quietly out of the room, Yoichi told himself he’d just go to the bathroom and take care of his little problem there. But his feet carried him somewhere else entirely. The closer he got to Kaiser’s door, the faster his heart raced, shame melting away with every step.
And then—suddenly—the dream cut off. But Yoichi was already too wrapped up in his own fantasies to notice.
This time, he didn’t even have to knock. Just as he lifted his hand, the door opened, revealing a rumpled Kaiser—already in headphones and slippers, as if he too had planned to run off for a late-night talk.
“I like y—”
“Let’s fu—”
They spoke at the same time, both freezing in shock. And to both their surprise, the first words had come from Kaiser, and the second from Isagi.
“What?”
“What?”
No way in hell was Yoichi repeating that out loud. Words could never explain what had been happening to him these past days anyway. So he acted instead.
Before Michael could say—or think—anything else stupid, Yoichi shoved him back into the room and silenced that damned mouth with a kiss.
That night, many of Kaiser’s fantasies finally came true.
***
Despite spending half the night tangled up in activity, Isagi woke feeling more rested than he had in days. Maybe it was the warm body beside him. Or maybe it was the fact that, for once, his mind wasn’t being bombarded with dirty fantasies.
Speaking of which…
When Kaiser blinked awake, groggy and still half-asleep, Yoichi realized something for the first time in days: silence. No thoughts. Nothing. Could it be—?
“What are you thinking right now?!” he asked urgently. Michael just shrugged lazily.
“Mm… nothing?”
“Hurry! Think of something perverted!” Isagi demanded, panic mounting.
Kaiser arched a brow, but seemed to comply, his expression turning thoughtful.
Still—silence. Emptiness. Nothing.
Could it be…? Had real sex cured him of this “superpower”?
Yoichi broke into a brilliant grin. He was finally free!
Free… right?
But when he felt Kaiser’s hands on him again, and heard that low, teasing voice purring into his ear, a realization struck him too late.
Everything he’d once only seen in Kaiser’s thoughts… was now waiting for him in reality.