15
Isagi, Nagi, and Bachira made their way to the door, the weight of their decision settling between them. They had agreed to be a team. They had agreed to face the second selection together. And now, finally, they were ready to move forward.
"Where do you think you're taking Isagi?"
The voice came from the speakers, cold and sharp, freezing them mid-step. Isagi's head snapped toward the screen on the wall. Ego's face filled the display, his glasses glinting, his expression unreadable.
The three of them froze.
Isagi was confused, his brow furrowed, his mind racing. What does he mean? We're just going to the next stage. That's what we're supposed to—
But Nagi and Bachira had already understood. Their faces contorted into displeasure, their bodies tensing. They both knew from Ego's words alone that Isagi was not allowed to team up with them.
"But why?" Bachira's voice was light, almost playful, but there was an edge to it. His face was grinning, giving a lively vibe, but somehow his words seemed more of a provocation rather than a clear statement. "What's wrong with us leaving and taking Isagi with us? We agreed to be a team for the second selection."
Ego scoffed. The sound echoed through the room, dismissive and final. Clearly, he hadn't told them beforehand that he had other plans for Isagi. He would forgive Bachira's rudeness and let it slide this time.
He grinned through the big screen, his teeth catching the light.
"Isagi Yoichi will not participate in the second selection," he said, his voice smooth as oil. "I have a different plan for him."
Isagi stared at the screen, his face bewildered. Did Ego have different plans for him? What does Ego mean by that?
Bachira and Nagi, on the other hand, were angry. This was their only time to show off their skills to the little sprout, and Ego had just ruined it before they had even had the chance to showcase all their abilities. Especially Nagi. He had been looking forward to it—to the moment when Isagi's blue eyes would widen with admiration, when he would finally understand what Nagi could do.
Bachira wanted to express his displeasure toward Ego's words, but before he could, Nagi spoke.
"What do you mean he won't be participating in the second selection?" Nagi's grey eyes stared at the screen, flat and cold. "All Blue Lock players have to go through it. Are you saying that you're playing favorites now, Mr. Ego Jinpachi? That's not fair for Blue Lock's other participants."
Opposite to his words, he didn't actually care much if Ego played favorite with anyone in Blue Lock—especially Isagi. He would even welcome it. But he wanted to play with Isagi. He wanted to experience the spark he had felt when they played together—the joy, the excitement that made him linger for more.
But before he could even fill Isagi's gaze with adoration of his skills, Ego had interrupted his plan, putting it on a dead end.
His mouth clicked with a low Tch.
He didn't even get to show off his skills, and that bowl-cut man had disturbed him.
Seeing Ego, who was silent after hearing his long, reasonable speech, Nagi wanted to add more. But Ego's next words left him dead silent.
"There is a special request from one of your future mentors," Ego said, his voice calm, almost bored. "Someone who will be teaching you during the third selection. The request was that he be allowed to train Isagi Yoichi specifically for the next duration of the second selection."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"This will still be a test for Isagi Yoichi. Don't worry—his test will be much harder. If he fails to please the mentor, even after receiving his training, he will be thrown out of Blue Lock immediately."
The room was silent.
"This is a great opportunity for Isagi to further develop his soccer skills to a much more professional level." Ego's grin widened. "Now, would you be that mean to ruin such a perfect chance for Isagi? Just because of a stupid feeling? Are you willing to destroy his career as a football player?"
Both Nagi and Bachira stayed silent.
Ego scoffed. "I thought so."
He leaned back in his chair, the screen flickering. "Now, Isagi Yoichi, come to the control room. And both of you—find someone else."
The screen went black.
Isagi stood frozen for a moment, his mind reeling. Then he turned to Bachira and Nagi, his throat tight.
"I have to go," he said quietly. "But I'll be watching. I'll be cheering for you." He tried to smile. "Work hard. Survive the second selection. And tell the others I said the same, okay?"
Bachira's expression was unreadable. Nagi's was flat.
"I'll see you after," Isagi said. He turned and walked toward the door, not looking back.
The door closed behind him.
Nagi stared at the spot where Isagi had disappeared. Bachira stared too.
"We're going to survive this," Bachira said finally. "For Isagi."
Nagi's eyes narrowed. "We're a team. Why are you using 'I'?"
Bachira rolled his eyes, his lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Just because Isagi said we were a team doesn't mean I actually wanted you in our team in the first place." He crossed his arms. "I don't really like you, Nagi."
Nagi's glare could have cut glass.
"Whatever," he said, turning away.
The walk to the control room felt longer than it should have.
Isagi's heart was pounding, his palms sweating. He didn't know who the mentor was. He didn't know what kind of training awaited him. All he knew was that Ego had said it would be harder than the second selection—and that failure meant expulsion.
No pressure, he thought, his laugh hollow.
He reached the door. Took a breath. Pressed the button.
The door slid open.
And Isagi's world stopped.
Standing in the control room, surrounded by monitors and data screens, was a figure he had dreamed about for years. Tall. Lean. Dark skin that glowed under the fluorescent lights. Golden-brown eyes that sparkled with the same fire Isagi remembered from childhood.
Loki.
"Lo—" Isagi's voice broke.
Before he could say another word, his body moved. He lunged forward, his legs carrying him across the room, his arms reaching out. He crashed into Loki's chest, his face burying itself in the familiar warmth, his hands clutching at the fabric of Loki's jersey.
"Losobski!!!"
The tears came before he could stop them—hot, messy, uncontrollable. He sobbed into Loki's chest, his shoulders shaking, his fingers gripping like Loki would disappear if he let go.
He's here. He's actually here. After all this time—
Loki's arms wrapped around him, strong and steady. One hand cradled the back of Isagi's head, fingers threading through the dark hair. The other pressed against his lower back, pulling him closer.
"Shh," Loki murmured, his voice soft, gentle. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Isagi cried harder.
Across the room, Ego and Anri stood frozen.
Anri had both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. She stared at the scene unfolding before her—the world-renowned Julian Loki, one of the best players in France, a member of the New Generation World XI, holding a crying Japanese high schooler like he was something precious.
That brat knows Loki? she thought, her mind reeling. Isagi knows Loki?
Ego's expression was unreadable, but his hands had curled into fists at his sides. His jaw was tight. His eyes—hidden behind his glasses—were fixed on Loki's hands, on the way they touched Isagi, on the way Isagi clung to him.
If I had known, Ego thought, his teeth grinding, that these two knew each other—if I had known Loki knew my sweet little egoist—I would have rejected the offer.
But the contract was already signed. There was nothing he could do.
Nothing but watch.
Loki, meanwhile, was doing his best to calm the sobbing mess in his arms. He stroked Isagi's hair, murmured soft words in French, pressed gentle kisses to the top of his head.
But his eyes weren't on Isagi.
They were on Ego.
He watched the older man's reaction—the clenched fists, the tight jaw, the barely concealed fury—and came to a single conclusion.
Ego likes Yoichi.
The thought made Loki's stomach turn. What a weirdo. Yoichi doesn't like men who are too old. And Ego is definitely too old.
The realization frustrated him. He wanted to wipe that look off Ego's face. He wanted to remind the older man exactly who Isagi belonged to.
So he did.
He kissed Isagi's left cheek. Then his right. Then his forehead.
"Mon petit chou," he murmured against Isagi's skin, his voice low and sweet. "Tu m'as tellement manqué. Ne me quitte plus jamais."
My little cabbage. I missed you so much. Never leave me again.
Isagi's sobs hiccupped into confused silence. His face, already flushed from crying, turned an even deeper shade of red. His ears—Loki noticed with satisfaction—were burning.
"L-Loki..." Isagi stammered, pulling back slightly. "What are you—people are watching—"
"Let them watch." Loki's golden-brown eyes flicked to Ego, and his lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I have nothing to hide."
Ego's teeth ground together.
Ehem. Ehem.
The fake cough was loud, deliberate, and clearly meant to interrupt. Ego stepped forward, his hand closing around Isagi's arm, pulling him gently but firmly out of Loki's embrace.
"It's rude to hug your mentor like that," Ego said, his voice clipped.
Isagi's face went crimson. "I—sorry—I didn't mean—I just—"
Damn it. He was too caught up seeing Loki again that he forgot his manners!
Loki's arms felt empty. He clicked his tongue in frustration but forced himself to step back, his hands sliding into his pockets.
Ego straightened his tie, his expression smoothing back into its usual mask of professional detachment.
"Julian Loki has been brought in as a special trainer for you," he said, addressing Isagi directly. "For the entire duration of the second selection, you will be under his supervision. He will train you. He will test you. And if you fail to meet his expectations..." Ego's smile was thin. "You're out."
Isagi's breath caught. Loki is going to train me? Loki—the New Generation World XI—is going to—
"Come." Loki's hand closed around Isagi's wrist, pulling him toward the door. "We're leaving."
"Wait—" Isagi tried to resist, but Loki was stronger. Before he could protest further, Loki had scooped him up—one arm under his knees, the other behind his back—holding him in a princess carry that made Isagi's face explode with color.
"Loki! Put me down! This is embarrassing!"
"You're too slow," Loki said, his voice matter-of-fact. "We don't have time for walking."
"I can walk! I've been walking my whole life! Put me—"
The door closed behind them, cutting off Isagi's protests.
Ego stood in the empty room, staring at the door.
That goddamn French prodigy, he thought, his fists clenching. If it weren't for his status, I would have kicked him out for touching my future wife like that.
Anri, still frozen, slowly lowered her hands from her mouth. "Ego-san... did you just call Isagi your future wife?"
"No."
"You did. I heard you."
"You heard nothing."
Anri sighed.
Loki carried Isagi through the corridors of Blue Lock, ignoring the stares of the few players they passed. Isagi had given up struggling, his face buried in Loki's shoulder, his ears burning.
"This is the worst," Isagi mumbled into Loki's jersey.
"You love it."
"I hate it."
"You love me."
Isagi's silence was answer enough.
Loki's lips curved.
The training field was different from the ones Isagi had seen before. It was larger, more professional, with equipment he didn't recognize and monitors tracking every movement. But that wasn't what made him freeze.
It was the players on the field.
Four of them. Moving like water, like wind, like something Isagi had only ever seen on television. Their passes were perfect, their shots unstoppable, their presence so overwhelming that Isagi felt small just standing in the same room.
Loki set him down, and Isagi's legs nearly gave out.
"Loki," he whispered. "Who are they?"
Loki's smile was sharp. "The World Five."
Leonardo Luna noticed them first.
He was tall, with blond hair cut short on the sides but long on top, swept to the left in a style that looked effortless but probably took hours. His white jersey bore the number 2. When he saw Loki—and the boy beside him—his lips curved into a smile that was equal parts curiosity and amusement.
"Loki," he called, jogging toward them. "You're back. And you brought... a souvenir?"
Isagi's face heated.
Loki's hand moved to Isagi's shoulder, pulling him closer. "He's not a souvenir. He's my student."
Luna's eyebrows rose. "Your student? Since when do you take students?" He looked at Isagi, his gaze traveling over his face, his hair, his eyes. "He's cute. For a Japanese."
Isagi didn't know whether to be offended or complimented.
"He's mine," Loki said, his voice flat. "Don't get any ideas."
Luna laughed. "Protective, are we? How adorable."
Adam Blake was next.
He was tall and muscular, with short blonde hair and a dark brown undercut. A short beard framed his jaw, and his blue eyes—marked by slits in his left eyebrow—were cold and assessing. He wore a white jersey with the number 3.
He looked at Isagi the way a predator might look at prey.
"So this is the one," he said, his voice deep, rough. "The special project."
"He's not a project," Loki said.
Adam's eyes swept over Isagi—his slim build, his delicate features, his wide blue eyes. Something flickered in his expression. Interest, maybe. Or something else.
"Cute," he said finally. "For a guy."
Isagi's face went red. "I'm not—I'm just—"
"Don't tease him," Pablo said, appearing at Adam's side.
Pablo Cavasoz was different from the others. Shorter, with a vibrant head of rainbow-colored hair that shifted from pastel blue to pink to yellow. His eyes were golden, framed by long lashes, and his face was dotted with freckles that made him look younger than he probably was. He wore a white jersey with the number 4.
When he looked at Isagi, his expression softened.
"Ignore them," he said, his voice gentle. "They have no manners." He stepped closer, tilting his head, studying Isagi's face. "You have interesting hair. These little sprouts—" he reached out, fingers brushing against the two stubborn strands that stuck up from Isagi's head, "—are adorable."
Isagi's voice caught in his throat.
"And your eyes," Pablo continued, his golden gaze fixed on Isagi's blue ones. "Dark blue. Like the ocean. Like the sky at midnight. Very... sexy."
Isagi made a sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a wheeze.
Loki's hand tightened on his shoulder.
Dada Silva was the last to approach.
He was massive—taller than anyone else in the room, with dark skin, black hair styled in dreadlocks, and brown eyes that seemed to see everything. His white jersey bore the number 5.
He didn't speak. He just looked at Isagi, nodded once, and turned back to the field.
Isagi wasn't sure if that was approval or dismissal.
"The World Five," Loki said, his voice low, meant only for Isagi. "The best of the best. They're here to assess Blue Lock's players after the second selection. But for now..." His golden-brown eyes met Isagi's. "They're here to help me train you."
Isagi stared at him. "All of them? The World Five is going to train me?"
"Don't look so surprised." Loki's smile was warm, almost fond. "I told you I'd find you, didn't I? I told you I'd make you the best."
Isagi's throat tightened. He remembered. He kept his promise. He—
Luna's voice cut through his thoughts. "He's blushing. Loki, your student is blushing."
"It's cute," Pablo said. "Very cute."
"The cutest," Luna agreed.
"Can we focus?" Adam's voice was dry. "We have work to do."
Dada grunted in agreement.
Loki ignored them all, his eyes still on Isagi. "Are you ready?"
Isagi took a breath. Let it out. Nodded.
"I'm ready."
Training with the World Five was unlike anything Isagi had ever experienced.
They didn't go easy on him. They didn't slow down. They played at full speed, at full power, at a level Isagi had only ever seen on television.
And he couldn't keep up.
Luna's passes were too fast, too sharp. Adam's shots were too powerful, too precise. Pablo's dribbling was a maze of feints and spins that left Isagi dizzy. Dada's presence was a wall that couldn't be passed.
But Loki was there. Every time Isagi fell, Loki pulled him up. Every time Isagi failed, Loki showed him how to do better. Every time Isagi wanted to give up, Loki's golden-brown eyes met his, and Isagi remembered why he was here.
I'm going to become the best striker in the world. I'm going to make them proud. I'm going to—
"Focus," Loki said, his voice sharp. "You're thinking too much."
Isagi shook his head, clearing the thoughts. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize. Adjust."
He did.
After the training session, Isagi sat on the bench, his chest heaving, his legs trembling. The World Five had already left—Luna to god-knew-where, Adam to the weight room, Pablo to call his agent about a trip to Harajuku, Dada to... wherever Dada went.
Only Loki remained.
He sat beside Isagi, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"You did well," Loki said.
"I missed ninety percent of my shots."
"You hit ten percent. That's ten percent more than yesterday."
Isagi laughed weakly. "That's not how math works."
Loki's lips curved. "It's how football works. You improve. You evolve. You become better than you were before." He turned to look at Isagi, his golden-brown eyes soft. "That's what you do, Yoichi. That's what you've always done."
Isagi's heart ached. "Loki..."
"I missed you."
The words hung in the air between them.
Isagi's throat tightened. "I missed you too. Every day. Every match. Every time I scored a goal, I thought about you. About Hugo. About Charles. About whether you were watching. About whether you were proud. I still have the picture of us together, I would always put it next to me everytime I sleep and I would always talk to it imagining that it was you guys infront of me"
Loki's hand found his, fingers lacing together.
"We were always watching," he said quietly. "We never stopped."
Isagi's eyes burned. He blinked, forcing the tears back. "I'm going to become the best. I'm going to make you proud. I'm going to—"
"You already have." Loki squeezed his hand. "You already have."
Loki kissed Isagi's lips. It was a light peck, but still it made Isagi forget how to breathe.
"You made me so proud there mi amor " He said as he slowly placed even more kisses on Isagi's neck.
My love?
Isagi immediately jumps from Loki's embrace rubbing his neck and lips before running off to somewhere that does not have Loki. Seeing Isagi's cute reaction Loki laughed heartily as he sat on the grass.
Cute
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