Chapter Text
In the vast stadium designated for high school matches, the game between Ichann High School and Matsukaze Koku was set. The crowd filled the stands, and as soon as the match began, the atmosphere ignited. By the third quarter, the spectators were roaring from the sheer intensity of the play. The score stood at 1-1. The opposing team was led by Ryosuke Kira, hailed as "Japan’s Future Jewel." While Kira’s team had won every previous match, Ichann High proved to be a formidable rival. both teams were now only one goal away from qualifying for the National Championship. Some players shouted "Nationals! Nationals!" as a form of motivation, while the Ichann team remained committed to their motto:
"One for all, all for one!"
Isagi Yoichi, a boy with pale blonde hair, stood in the center of the field.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with obvious boredom—yet his features remained deeply irritated.
"Disgusting... the smell of sweat and 'team effort.' I thought playing with these average people would be amusing, but they’re just a herd of boring sheep,"
Isagi muttered to himself. Soon, he saw the ball heading his way. He advanced with high individual skill, completely ignoring his teammate Tada, who screamed,
"Isagi! I’m open!"
Seeing this, the Ichann coach shouted from the bench, "Isagi! Pass the ball to Tada! Now! If you continue this selfish individual play, you're going to the bench!"
Isagi slowed to a stop, placing his foot firmly on the ball in the middle of a counterattack. His teammates and the surrounding defenders froze in confusion. Isagi turned toward the coach with a sharp, provocative gaze. "You’re benching me? You? Listen to me, old man who reeks of failure—one call from my father to the head of the School Union, and I’ll have you spending the rest of your life training toddlers in a public park.Your silence would be the greatest service you could provide this team."
Everyone froze at his insolent response. Even the opponents lost their focus, staring at the poor coach for a moment.
The referee blew the whistle to resume play. In that instant, the anger vanished from Isagi’s face, replaced by a calm, strangely beautiful smile. But his eyes... they shimmered with malice.
"Fine. They want 'teamwork'? Let’s play~" Isagi began to move. He passed to Tada on his right, but it was a strange pass—forceful and directed at a fixed angle, designed to force Tada to move in a specific path that served Isagi’s vision.
Ryosuke Kira rushed to intercept, but in the blink of an eye, Isagi sped forward and snatched the rebound from his own teammate, Tada.
"Isagi?!" Tada cried out in shock.
Isagi swept past him, a gentle smile gracing his face. "Thanks for being a good decoy, Tada-chan."
Tada was stunned, but Isagi didn't stop. He charged toward the opponent's goal and quickly reached the penalty area. Kira lunged at him with renewed seriousness.
"You won't pass! Soccer isn't played like this!" Isagi smiled at him before whispering, "You’re so sweet, Kira... so sweet that I want to break you."
The smile shifted from gentle to poisonous as he lunged forward. Isagi executed a body feint, suggesting he would pass to the left.
Kira fell for it completely, diving in that direction. But Isagi coldly pulled the ball back. Instead of a power shot, he chipped the ball with a quick flick over the stunned goalkeeper.
It settled perfectly into the top right corner.
Goal! The score is 2-1!
the blonde, elite-class player.
'I have to show him what real football is about...' Kira thought.
In the end, Ichann won 3-1 after Isagi assisted another goal for a teammate he "liked" (only because he obeyed him) and scored the final goal himself.
---
As the whistle blew to signal the end of the match and Ichann’s victory, Isagi avoided his teammates' hugs and handshakes with a cold stare. Suddenly, he saw Kira running toward him with "sportsmanship," extending his hand.
"It was a good match, Isagi-kun. I wish we could play together on the National Team..."
Kira couldn't even finish his sentence before meeting Isagi’s cold, disgusted eyes.
"The National Team? With someone who smiles after being humiliated? No thanks. And don’t touch me with your filthy hand. You aren't a 'jewel', you're just a piece of costume jewelry in a shop window."
Isagi left Kira in a state of stunned, suppressed rage and walked toward the locker room.
"Arrogant..." Kira muttered to himself.
Minutes later, the locker room was filled with noise, joyful cheers, and warm smiles for their victory. "To the Nationals!" someone cheered. Isagi sat quietly drying his hair, then picked up his private comb to style it, ignoring the resentful glares from teammates—likely because he hadn't passed to them. He didn't miss the chance to provoke them further.
"Did you see that goal? I could have scored it in the first minute, but seeing your opponents' faces slowly crumble was a pleasure I couldn't skip. You're lucky I was in a good enough mood today to raise the level of this dilapidated team," Isagi said. The players began to mutter in anger,
but Tada approached him hesitantly and said
"Isagi-san! That final pass was... genius. No one expected it! I’m grateful to be on the same team as you."
At that moment, Isagi’s hand holding the comb froze. He looked at Tada with a cold gaze, but his ears slowly turned red. He stuttered slightly in a low voice
"What are you saying, you idiot? I was just using you as a tool. Don't start getting ideas."
"Ah... of course," Tada muttered, stepping back. Isagi regained his composure and shot a quick glance at Tada before turning away.
"Next time, make sure you move faster. I don’t want my 'tools' getting rusty."
"Understood?" Tada nodded anxiously.
Suddenly, the coach stormed into the room. He didn't have the usual victory smile; he was livid from Isagi’s earlier insult.
"Isagi! To my office, now!" the coach barked. Isagi looked at him with a deadpan expression.
"What you did today—insulting me in front of the crowd and cameras, ignoring the tactics—this won't go unpunished!"
the coach screamed. "soccer is a game of discipline! It’s sacrifice! And you—"
Isagi interrupted him as he stood up slowly. He slung his expensive leather bag over his shoulder. He wasn't angry. A soft, calm smile played on his lips—the one he wore before beginning a provocation.
"My dear coach... are you finished with your boring lecture? I’ve brought you an 'early dismissal permit' signed by the high administration. As for discipline... I suggest you teach it to these failures behind you. Perhaps it will help them score a single goal without my assistance."
Isagi waved the permit in the coach's face coldly and walked toward the door without looking back, leaving the coach trembling with helplessness and his teammates shocked for the second time.
--- At the school gate, a luxury black car awaited him. The chauffeur, wearing white gloves, opened the rear door respectfully.
"Congratulations on the win, Master Yoichi. Shall we head home?"
Isagi’s expression changed the moment he entered the car. The smile and the arrogance vanished, replaced by a deep void. He looked out the window at the students laughing and walking together in groups.
"Home? You mean that cold palace where the furniture lives more than the humans? Yes, take me there."
Isagi’s voice came out faint and bitter. As the car drove away, Isagi pulled his phone from his school blazer. His fingers tapped the screen softly as he checked his messages
Hana:2 missed messages.
Tada (Tool #1) Unread message from two days ago.
(Blocked): 5 missed messages.
Father: 1 message from an hour ago.
His golden eyes shimmered with a different light this time as he checked his father's message.
> Father: Come home early. There is a letter for you.
Isagi contemplated the words for a moment before the chauffeur’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Master Yoichi, we have arrived."
"Yes, yes," Isagi replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket before stepping out of the car.
He looked at his house—more like a luxury palace from those ridiculous stories.
Despite its grandeur, Isagi hated this "palace."
'Here I am again...' he whispered to himself before being greeted silently by the servants. The heavy silence was broken only by the echo of Isagi’s footsteps on the luxury marble floor.
No one ran to meet him. there was no mother to welcome him, no father to smile at him. Instead, his parents sat at an incredibly long dining table, separated by a distance that suggested coldness, both occupied with their tablets.
"You arrived late. I received a call from your school principal. He says you threatened to fire the coach? Childish behavior... you are tarnishing the family name with your pointless noise," Issei —his father said in a cold voice without looking up.
Isagi’s golden eyes flared. He gripped his bag strap tightly, veins appearing on his hand.
"Noise? I saved your reputation from being linked to a failing team led by an idiot coach. Instead of scolding me, you should have asked 'Did you win?'... but I forgot, you two only care about the numbers in your bank accounts," Isagi said, his voice trembling with provocation.
His mother, Iyo, looked up from her tablet. "Winning a school match is not an achievement, Yoichi. It is the bare minimum expected of you. We provide you with the best private coaches and the perfect environment... The anger you’re showing now is proof of a weak character, just like how you act on the field," she said in a calm, condescending tone.
Isagi laughed a sarcastic laugh, and his features suddenly turned into a gentle, mischievous smile, as if he had gone into 'playground mode' to avoid pain..
"My weakness of character? Perhaps this is the only thing I inherited from you both.. the ability to act cold while your hearts are empty. Don't worry, I will continue to be your 'perfect project'... as long as I can destroy everyone who stands in my way." Isagi replied.
After arguing, he finally sat down at the table. Next to his dinner plate, which had been carefully placed by the servants, there was an elegant white letter.
Isagi picked it up with annoyance and curiosity, but once he saw the "Blue Lock" logo, he stilled.
"That invitation came from the soccer Association today. A strange government project. I called my secretary to cancel it. We don't want you spending your time in a prison with scum from the common classes." Father Issy said coldly.
Isagi froze. This was the moment when his artificial calm "exploded".
"Cancel it? Who gave you the right? Do you think I will remain this 'self' that you are trying to suppress? In fact, I will go. Not because I want to represent Japan, but because I want a place where I can prove that I am not a 'project' to anyone," Isagi said as he violently tore the cover of the letter. Isagi got up from the table without touching a single bite.
“I will pack my bags. Don’t bother bidding me farewell. The calm in this house is the most beautiful gift you can give me.”