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The stadium was still echoing.
Not with noise anymore—not with the roar of the crowd, not with boots striking turf or whistles slicing air—but with something softer. Lingering. Like the aftermath of lightning still burning behind closed eyelids.
Isagi stood on the pitch, breathing hard, jersey clinging to him, sweat cooling too fast against his skin. His heart was still racing like the match hadn’t ended at all.
Because it had.
And they had won.
Blue Lock had survived the final international selection match.
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no immediate next strategy. No opponent to read. No Rin’s cold pressure pushing at his back. No Ego Jinpachi voice cutting through everything like a blade.
Just… silence.
Well. Almost.
Footsteps approached.
Isagi didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
Rin Itoshi stopped beside him, a few meters away at first, like even victory couldn’t fully erase the invisible distance he always kept between himself and everyone else. His breathing was steadier than most, but even he looked slightly worn—hair damp, expression sharp as ever.
Except… not as sharp.
Something had changed.
Suddenly, Rin grasped the back of Isagi's head and kissed him.
It was deep, passionate, but most of all, honest.
"I could get used to that huh Rin, my love."
Isagi finally turned his head. “We actually did it,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t trust the words enough to say them louder.
Rin didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were on the field ahead, as if replaying the match in his head on loop.
“I know,” Rin said.
That was all.
But there was something strange in the way he said it. Not detached. Not dismissive.
Focused.
Like he’d made a decision mid-battle and hadn’t stopped making it since.
Before Isagi could ask anything else, more footsteps came rushing in.
“ISAGI!!”
“RIN!!”
The rest of Blue Lock flooded the pitch like a breaking wave—loud, chaotic, alive.
Bachira crashed into Isagi first, laughing as he grabbed him by the shoulders. “You saw that pass? You totally saw that, right? That was insane, that was—”
“Yeah, yeah I saw it—Bachira—can’t breathe—”
Nagi appeared next, looking half-asleep but unusually satisfied. “Winning is kind of a hassle… but not bad.”
“YOU SAY THAT EVERY TIME,” Reo snapped, already dragging him along by the collar.
Chigiri ran past them, laughing breathlessly, hair still damp from sweat and victory. Even Barou was there, arms crossed, looking like he’d rather die than admit he was smiling—but he wasn’t walking away either.
And then—
Rin stepped forward.
Just slightly.
But enough.
The air shifted immediately.
Even Bachira paused mid-sentence.
Even Barou clicked his tongue.
Even Isagi noticed.
“…Rin?” Isagi blinked. “What is it?”
Rin didn’t answer.
Instead, he looked at all of them.
Blue Lock.
Every rival. Every teammate. Every person who had broken, rebuilt, and forced each other forward.
Then his gaze returned to Isagi.
And something in it tightened.
Like a locked door finally clicking open.
“I have something to say,” Rin said.
That alone made everyone go quiet.
Because Rin didn’t do “something to say.”
Rin did “destroy you on the field and leave.”
Isagi straightened slightly. “Uh… okay?”
Rin exhaled once. Slow. Controlled.
Then he stepped forward again.
One step.
Then another.
Until he was right in front of Isagi.
Close enough that Isagi could see the faint exhaustion in his eyes. Close enough that the silence between them felt heavier than any match they’d ever played.
“…Rin?” Isagi said again, softer this time.
Rin’s hand moved.
For a second, Isagi thought he was about to grab his collar like usual. Pull him into some argument about spatial awareness or egoism or something intense and infuriating.
But instead—
Rin reached into his pocket.
And pulled something out.
A small box.
The kind that doesn’t belong on a football pitch.
The entire field froze.
Bachira physically tilted his head. “Huh?”
Reo went stiff. “No way.”
Nagi’s eyes opened slightly wider than usual. “Oh. That’s new.”
Barou looked personally offended by the concept of romance existing at all.
Isagi, meanwhile, just stared.
“…What is that?” he asked, voice slightly cracked.
Rin didn’t look away.
“You’re slower than I expected,” he said flatly.
“…Excuse me??”
Rin opened the box.
Inside was a simple ring.
Not flashy. Not dramatic. Nothing like the stadium lights or broadcast cameras or the chaos they were used to.
Just… clean. Intentional.
Rin held it like it was part of something far more important than anything he’d ever played for.
“I don’t understand most people,” Rin said.
That was… not surprising.
“But I understand football,” he continued.
A beat.
“And I understand you.”
Isagi’s breath caught slightly.
Around them, the entire Blue Lock team had collectively forgotten how to function.
Bachira whispered, “THIS IS BETTER THAN A DRAMA.”
Rin ignored them completely.
“You’re the only person who keeps evolving in a way that makes sense to me,” Rin said. “The only one who forces me to improve without slowing me down.”
His grip on the box tightened slightly.
“And I don’t want to lose that.”
Silence again.
Even the wind felt quieter.
Isagi swallowed. “Rin… are you—”
“Yes,” Rin cut in immediately.
That almost made Isagi choke.
Rin continued anyway, completely unbothered.
“I’m asking you to stay with me.”
A pause.
“…Not just on the field.”
That landed differently.
He held Isagi’s gaze, steady and unflinching in a way that somehow felt more honest than anything emotional.
“Be mine,” Rin said simply. “In every match that comes after this.”
For a moment, Isagi didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t breathe properly.
Then he let out a short laugh—half disbelief, half something warmer he didn’t have a name for yet.
“You really don’t know how to propose normally, do you?”
Rin blinked once. “There is a normal way?”
That almost broke him.
Almost.
Isagi stepped forward slightly, closing the last bit of space between them.
The stadium lights hummed above them.
Behind them, Blue Lock was silently losing its collective mind.
Isagi looked at the ring.
Then at Rin.
Then he smiled.
Small. Real.
“…You’re so annoying,” he said softly.
Rin didn’t react.
So Isagi reached out and gently took the ring box from his hand.
“I accept,” he added.
That did it.
The silence shattered.
Bachira screamed, “HE SAID YES!!!”
Reo looked like he was about to cry and die at the same time. “THIS IS INSANE—THIS IS ACTUALLY INSANE—”
Nagi muttered, “I think I need a nap after this…”
Barou shouted, “FOOTBALL IS NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THIS!!!”
But Isagi didn’t look away from Rin.
Rin didn’t look away from him either.
“…You’re not going to cry, are you?” Isagi teased quietly.
Rin frowned. “No.”
A beat.
“…Good,” Isagi said, slipping the ring on.
Then, softer—
“Because I’m going to make you win even more now.”
That finally made something flicker in Rin’s expression.
Not softness.
Not exactly.
But something dangerously close to it.
“…I expect nothing less,” Rin said.
And for once, the space between them didn’t feel like distance.
It felt like alignment.