23
Today was the day that the World Five made their debut in Blue Lock.
Instead of five, it was six people who were going to test the participants in Blue Lock. The additional one being Isagi.
He stood in the corridor outside the main stadium, the white jersey hanging loose on his shoulders, the number eleven printed boldly on his chest and back. The fabric felt different from his Blue Lock uniform—lighter, more expensive, like something a professional would wear.
I'm going to play against them, Isagi thought, his heart pounding. Against Rin's team, I wonder who the number one had picked....
Though I'm a bit worried cause i am going to face Bachira and nagi later on if I meet their team and they don't know I'm on the other side now.
He should have been nervous. He should have been scared. But instead, he felt... calm. The shadow at his feet stirred, and he felt Onryo's presence, warm and reassuring, coiled in the darkness beneath him.
Before all of this, Isagi thought, I need to plan my words if I meet them first.
A conversation..
which reminds me of the conversation I had with Onryo a few minutes ago.
Flashback
Isagi walked down the Blue Lock hallway alone.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting their usual sterile glow on the white walls. His footsteps echoed in the silence—soft, steady, unhurried. The others were already in the stadium, warming up, preparing for the matches ahead.
But Isagi had something he needed to do first.
"Onryo," he called softly.
The shadow at his feet stirred. A voice emerged from the darkness—low, smooth, familiar.
"Yes, Yoichi?"
Isagi didn't stop walking. His eyes stayed fixed on the corridor ahead.
"Loki asked me something yesterday," Isagi said. "He asked me why I keep doubting myself. Why I keep thinking I'm not worth their attention."
The shadow was silent.
"And I said it was because they had said those same words to me, and you know what his answer was?"
"He said they had never said such words to me," Isagi continued, his voice flat. "He said they had never told me I was too weak. Not worth playing with. That they had always treated me well."
He stopped walking.
"But Onryo..."
"In my memories..." Isagi's voice dropped. "Loki, Charles, and Hugo said those things to me. They said I was still too weak. That I wasn't worth playing with. That I was a burden."
He didn't turn around. He didn't need to. He could feel Onryo's presence behind him, lurking in the shadow he cast on the floor.
"You altered my memory, didn't you?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
Isagi waited. He could hear Onryo's breathing—soft, shallow, like a trapped animal. He could feel the shadow trembling beneath his feet.
"You altered my memory," Isagi repeated. "Of them. Of what happened that day. Of—"
"Yes."
Onryo's voice was barely a whisper. It cracked in the middle, splintering like old wood.
Isagi closed his eyes.
I knew it, he thought. I knew something was wrong.
He looked around—checking the corners, the ceiling, the small cameras that Ego had hidden everywhere. Finding a spot that was blind, a corner where the surveillance didn't reach, he walked toward it and stopped.
"Come out," Isagi said.
The shadow rippled.
Onryo emerged from the darkness like a creature surfacing from deep water. His tall form unfolded, his long black hair cascading down his back, his white skin almost glowing in the dim light. His blackened hands hung at his sides, and his dark eyes—those ancient, sorrowful eyes—were fixed on Isagi's face.
He was nervous and Isagi could tell from Onryo's habits of avoiding eye contact when he made a wrong decision or move.
He looked like a man awaiting execution.
Isagi stepped forward.
Onryo flinched but didn't move. He stayed still as Isagi approached, as Isagi reached up, as Isagi took his face in both hands.
The skin was soft—softer than Isagi expected. Like touching a silk pillow, warm and smooth, despite its unnatural blackness. Isagi's fingers spread across Onryo's cheeks, feeling the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones.
He pulled Onryo down. In a hard way.
Onryo went willingly, his long legs folding, his knees hitting the floor. He knelt before Isagi, his dark eyes wide, his sharp teeth hidden behind closed lips.
Isagi moved his fingers, caressing Onryo's face.
"I don't mind that you altered my memory," Isagi said quietly.
Onryo's breath caught.
"Because I know.."
"I know something else happened that day. Something you didn't want me to remember." Isagi's thumbs brushed Onryo's cheekbones, gentle, almost loving. "And if it was you—if you had a reason—then I trust that reason."
Onryo's eyes shimmered.
"But..." Isagi's voice hardened. "I do not appreciate you altering my memories of them."
"You know who they are, right?"
He rubbed Onryo's face, feeling the softness beneath his fingers. It was strange—like touching a cloud, like touching darkness made solid. But it wasn't unpleasant.
"My memories of Loki. Of Charles. Of Hugo." Isagi's gaze softened. "Those are mine. You don't have the right to change them."
Onryo's lips parted. His sharp teeth glinted.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Yoichi. I only wanted to protect you. I only wanted—"
"I know." Isagi's voice was gentle now, almost tender. "I know."
He leaned closer, his face inches from Onryo's.
"Can you return them?" Isagi asked. "My original memories. Can you give them back?"
Onryo moved his head slowly from the right to the left, indicating the answer of "no", his dark eyes never leaving Isagi's face.
"I don't like them.." Onryo whispered.
Isagi smiled, his voice dropping sweeter like honey in Onryo's ears.
"But Onryo, you wouldn't want to disappoint me, do you? and besides.."
"You can do that much, can't you?" Isagi's lips curved into a small smile. "You sweet little thing?"
Onryo shuddered.
Oh, Isagi knew how to make him kneel to his command.
His whole body trembled—from his shoulders to his knees, from his blackened hands to the tips of his long black hair. A low sound escaped his throat, something between a purr and a whimper.
His sharp teeth formed a large grin—too wide, too sharp, too inhuman. But his eyes were soft, almost reverent.
"Yes," Onryo breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Yes. Anything for you."
He raised his blackened hands, cupping Isagi's hands where they rested on his cheeks. His touch was gentle, almost worshipful.
"Anything," he repeated.
Isagi smiled.
"Good boy," he said.
Onryo's grin widened. His cheeks flushed—though Isagi couldn't see the colour, he could feel the warmth radiating from Onryo's skin. He could feel the way Onryo leaned into his touch, the way his body relaxed, the way his shadow curled around Isagi's feet like a cat rubbing against its owner's legs.
He really does like being treated like this, Isagi thought, amused.
"Then do it," Isagi said. "Return my memories."
Onryo closed his eyes.
The shadow around Isagi's feet rose, swirling, wrapping around his legs, his waist, his chest. It was warm—not cold, like he had expected, but warm, like being wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer.
And then the memories came.
Not all at once—not like a flood. They came gently, softly, like falling leaves drifting down from a tree. One by one, they settled into Isagi's mind, filling the gaps that Onryo had created.
Loki, laughing as he taught Isagi to dribble. Charles pouted when Isagi wouldn't let him have the last piece of cake. Hugo, holding Isagi's hand as they walked through the streets of France, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
They never said those things, Isagi realised. They never called me weak. They never said I wasn't worth playing with.
They loved me. They always loved me.
And I forgot.
Tears pricked at Isagi's eyes. He blinked them back, not wanting to cry, not wanting to show weakness.
But Onryo saw. Onryo always saw.
"I'm sorry," Onryo whispered. "I'm so sorry, Yoichi."
"I promise I won't do it again.."
Isagi shook his head.
"Don't be," he said. "You were trying to protect me. I understand that now."
He released Onryo's face, stepping back. The shadow retreated, coiling back around his feet, settling into its familiar place.
"But don't do it again," Isagi said, his voice firm. "My memories are mine. My feelings are mine. You don't get to decide what I remember and what I forget."
Onryo bowed his head.
"Yes, Yoichi," he said.
Isagi looked at him for a long moment—at the long black hair, the snow-white skin, the blackened hands. At the ancient being who had waited centuries for him, who had killed thousands for him, who had given up everything for him.
"Come on," Isagi said, turning toward the stadium. "We have a match to play."
The shadow rose, wrapping around him, and Onryo disappeared into the darkness.
But Isagi could feel him there—warm, present, waiting.
Always waiting.
It's Onryo after all.
Present
The stadium was enormous.
Isagi had seen it before—had played on its field during the first selection—but today it felt different. Today, the stands were empty, but the pressure was higher than ever. Cameras lined the walls, recording everything for Ego's analysis. Screens displayed the names of the players who would be participating.
And at the centre of the field, waiting, stood the World Five.
Loki stood at the front, his golden-brown eyes scanning the tunnel where the Blue Lock players would emerge. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Luna was examining his nails, looking bored. Silva was cracking his knuckles, his massive frame casting a long shadow. Adam was stretching, his blue eyes half-closed, his beard scratching against his collar.
And Pablo...
Pablo was playing with Isagi's hair.
"You need to condition more," Pablo said, his fingers threading through the dark blue strands. "It's soft, but it could be softer."
Isagi sighed. "Pablo, we're about to play a match."
"We have time." Pablo pulled a small bottle from his pocket—where did he keep finding those?—and squeezed a drop of something that smelled like coconut into Isagi's hair. "Stand still."
"I am standing still."
"You're fidgeting."
"I'm not—"
"Shh."
Isagi closed his mouth.
Luna glanced over, his green eyes amused. "Pablo, stop grooming the child. We have guests."
Pablo didn't look up. "Guests can wait. Hair is eternal."
Loki's lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite. His golden-brown eyes found Isagi's, and something soft passed between them.
You ready? Loki's gaze seemed to ask.
Isagi nodded.
Ready.
The tunnel doors opened.
Isagi's heart pounded as the Blue Lock players emerged—five of them, walking in a line, their faces set with determination. He recognised them immediately.
Rin Itoshi led the group, his teal eyes cold, his expression blank. Behind him came Bachira, his yellow eyes bright, his grin wide. Then Nagi, his grey eyes half-closed, his hands in his pockets. Then Aryu, his long dark hair swaying with each step. And finally, Tokimitsu, his shoulders hunched, his eyes darting nervously around the stadium.
Isagi knew the other three as Rin, Nagi and Bachira but the other two were someone that Isagi didn't recognise.
Rin's team must have beaten Bachira and Nagi before picking one of them and they probably had another fight with either Bachira or Nagi, causing Rin to have both of them in his team.
As expected of the number 1..
They've got both Nagi and Bachira in their team!
That's wonderful yet terrifying..
He should have been intimidated. He should have been scared.
But he wasn't.
Because he wasn't the same Isagi from before.
He had changed.
He was something else now.
And he is for sure going to beat their asses.
Bachira saw him first.
"Isagi?!"
His voice rang out across the stadium, loud and surprised. His yellow eyes went wide, his grin freezing on his face. He took a step forward, then another, his hands reaching out—
"Don't ya have manners?"
Silva's voice was a low rumble, cutting through the air like a blade. He stepped in front of Bachira, his massive frame blocking the smaller boy's path. His brown eyes were cold, assessing.
"And with those scrawny builds, who are you tryna fight?" he snickered.
Adam joined in, his blue eyes sharp. "I told you Japanese were weak and scrawny." He glanced at Isagi, his expression softening slightly. "Except for Yoichi, of course."
Silva laughed—a booming sound that echoed off the walls. "Ba ha ha ha! You're right! Our Yoichi is an exception to these punks."
Nagi's grey eyes went dark.
He had played many games in his life—most of them in English, because the best games came from overseas. He had learned the language to understand the stories, the dialogue, the lore. He understood every word Silva and Adam had just said.
"What did you say?" Nagi's voice was low, dangerous.
Bachira blinked, looking between Nagi and the World Five. "What? What did they say? Nagi, what did they—"
Nagi told him, in full detail and some unnecessary details that didn't happen.
Bachira's face went red. His yellow eyes blazed.
"You—"
He took a step forward, his hands curling into fists, his body tensing to lunge—
And Isagi stepped between them.
"Stop."
His voice was quiet, but it cut through the tension like a knife. Bachira froze, his eyes wide. Isagi stood in front of him, blocking his path, his blue eyes calm.
"Bachira," Isagi said, "don't."
"But they—"
"I know what they said." Isagi's voice was gentle. "And I'll handle it."
He turned to face Silva and Adam, his expression hardening.
"That wasn't necessary," Isagi said. "They're my friends. You don't get to talk about them like that."
Silva's eyebrows rose. Adam's lips twitched.
"Our apologies," Adam said, though he didn't sound sorry. "We forgot you have attachments to these... players."
"If you could call them that, that is" Adam added.
"These players," Isagi said, "are some of the best in Blue Lock. And you're going to find out why."
Silva grinned. "Is that a challenge, little sprout?"
Isagi met his gaze.
"Maybe," he said. "Now get back in position. The match is about to start."
Adam and Silva watched as the little sprout made his way back both of them thinking of the same thing.
Isagi is sulking on them.
Adam looked at Silva and Silva looked at Adam. Both sighed before moving to their position.
The Match Begins
The whistle blew.
The World Five took their positions—Loki at the front, Luna on the left, Silva on the right, Adam in the centre, Pablo hovering near the back. And Isagi...
Isagi stood in the middle, his white jersey bright against the green field, the number eleven glowing under the lights.
Across from them, Rin's team formed their own formation. Rin at the front, his teal eyes fixed on Loki. Bachira on the left, his yellow eyes darting between Isagi and Pablo. Nagi on the right, his grey eyes half-closed, his body loose. Aryu and Tokimitsu in the back, ready to defend.
The ball was in the centre circle.
The referee—a hologram, because Ego refused to let actual referees near his project—raised its hand.
Whistle.
Loki moved first.
His speed was unreal—a blur of motion that left Rin's team scrambling to keep up. He reached the ball before anyone else could react, his foot connecting with it in a smooth, effortless motion.
The ball flew toward Luna.
Luna caught it with his chest, his blond hair swaying, his green eyes half-lidded. He looked almost bored as he dribbled toward the goal, weaving past Aryu like the taller boy wasn't even there.
"Is that all you've got?" Luna called out, his voice mocking. "I thought Japan's best would be more... challenging."
Rin's jaw tightened.
He moved—fast, faster than Isagi remembered—his body cutting across the field, his foot reaching for the ball. Luna saw him coming, his lips curving into a smile.
"Ah, ah, ah," Luna said, pulling the ball back out of Rin's reach. "Not so fast, little one."
He passed to Silva.
Silva's shot was a cannon—low, hard, unstoppable. The ball rocketed toward the goal, and Tokimitsu threw himself in front of it, his body blocking the shot.
The impact made a sound like thunder.
Tokimitsu crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest, his face pale. But the ball bounced away, still in play.
"Nice block," Silva said, sounding almost impressed. "You've got guts, kid."
"But you need to fix your confidence first" He chuckled.
Tokimitsu didn't respond. He was too busy trying to breathe.
Bachira got the ball.
His feet moved like water, flowing around Adam, around Silva, around Luna. His yellow eyes were bright, his grin wide, his body dancing to a rhythm only he could hear.
"Pablo!" Isagi called out. "He's coming your way!"
Pablo's golden eyes sharpened. His rainbow hair seemed to shimmer as he moved, positioning himself between Bachira and the goal.
"Come on, little one," Pablo said, his voice soft. "Show me what you've got."
Bachira's grin widened.
He feinted left, then right, then left again—his body moving in patterns that should have been impossible to follow. But Pablo followed. His golden eyes tracked every movement, his body responding in kind.
He's good, Isagi thought. Really good.
But Bachira was better.
He slipped past Pablo—just barely, his shoulder brushing against the older man's chest—and shot.
The ball curved through the air, spinning, arcing toward the top corner of the goal.
Loki was there.
His hand shot up—no, not his hand. His foot. He had leapt, somehow, impossibly, and his foot connected with the ball, deflecting it away from the goal.
"Nice try," Loki said, landing gracefully. "But not good enough."
Rin was getting frustrated.
Every time he got the ball, Luna was there. Every time he tried to shoot, Silva blocked him. Every time he thought he had an opening, Adam closed it.
And Luna wouldn't stop talking.
"You know," Luna said, spinning the ball on his finger like a basketball, "you remind me of someone."
Rin didn't respond. His teal eyes were fixed on the ball.
"Sae Itoshi," Luna continued. "Your brother. He's got the same look in his eyes. The same... desperation."
Rin's hands curled into fists.
"Desperation?" Rin's voice was low, dangerous.
"Mm." Luna smiled. "The desperation of someone who knows they'll never be good enough. Who knows, they'll always be second best."
"Dreaming of being the number one but they fail to realise that they're only worth being the number two. How silly," He laughed.
Rin lunged.
His foot connected with Luna's shin—not the ball, not even close. The referee's whistle blew, sharp and shrill.
"Foul! Blue Lock number 7! Yellow card!"
Luna stumbled back, clutching his shin, his face twisted in exaggerated pain. "Oh no," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm so hurt. Whatever shall I do?"
"Yoichi~ save me, there is a demon here", Luna whined while looking at Isagi who replied with an annoying eyeroll.
"Shut up," Rin hissed.
"Make me."
Rin took a step forward, his fist raised—
And Isagi was there.
His hand closed around Rin's wrist, stopping the punch before it could land. Rin's teal eyes snapped to him, wide with surprise.
"Let go," Rin said.
"No." Isagi's voice was calm. "You're better than this."
"Better than what?"
"Better than letting him get under your skin." Isagi's blue eyes met Rin's teal ones. "He's trying to provoke you. Don't let him win."
Rin's jaw tightened. His hand trembled in Isagi's grip.
"Who do you think you are?" Rin asked, his voice low. "You're just a lukewarm player who got lucky. You don't get to tell me what to do."
Isagi didn't flinch.
"Maybe," he said. "But I'm also the one who's going to beat you. And I can't do that if you get yourself disqualified."
Rin stared at him for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he lowered his fist.
"Lukewarm," Rin muttered, pulling his wrist free. "That's what you are. Lukewarm and annoying."
Isagi smiled.
"Maybe," he said. "But I'm still going to win."
And as Isagi moved back to his position, he couldn't help but pinch Luna's ears, causing him to tilt his head from the subtle pain.
"Ouch-Puch!! Yoichi, what is that for??" Luna looked at him with betraying eyes.
"For being childish", Isagi replied simply and smiled cheerfully as he twisted his hand, which twisted Luna's ears even more.
Luna: ...... Are you trying to tear my ears off?
Isagi: I don't know, maybe? ^ w ^
The match continued.
Rin's team fought hard—harder than Isagi had ever seen them fight. Bachira's dribbling was wild, unpredictable, and almost impossible to stop. Nagi's traps were flawless, his shots deadly. Aryu and Tokimitsu defended with everything they had, throwing their bodies in front of shots, blocking passes, and intercepting crosses.
But the World Five were on another level.
Loki was everywhere—on offence, on defence, his speed unmatched, his precision perfect. Luna was a nightmare, his taunts never-ending, his skill undeniable. Silva was a wall, his strength overwhelming, his shots like cannonballs. Adam was a strategist, his passes always finding their mark, his movements always one step ahead. And Pablo...
Pablo was beautiful.
His rainbow hair shimmered as he moved, his golden eyes tracking the ball, his body flowing like water. He wasn't the fastest or the strongest, but he was always in the right place at the right time, his passes always perfect, his shots always dangerous.
And Isagi?
Isagi was the glue.
He saw everything—the field, the players, the ball. He saw where Loki would run, where Luna would taunt, where Silva would shoot. He saw where Bachira would dribble, where Nagi would trap, where Rin would strike.
And he was always there.
He intercepted a pass from Rin to Nagi, his foot hooking the ball away. He blocked a shot from Bachira, his body throwing itself in front of the goal. He passed to Loki, setting up a goal that put the World Five ahead.
He was everywhere.
And Rin noticed.
"You've gotten better," Rin said, his voice flat.
"You were not this skilful in the matches I watched before.."
They were standing near the centre circle, the ball between them. The rest of the players were scattered across the field, catching their breath, waiting for the next play.
Isagi shrugged. "I had good teachers."
"Lukewarm answer."
"What do you want me to say? That I've been training with the best players in the world? That I've evolved beyond anything you can imagine?" Isagi's blue eyes glittered. "Because that's true. But you already knew that."
"Idiot."
Rin's lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite.
"Lukewarm," he said again. "But maybe... maybe not as lukewarm as before."
The whistle blew.
The match resumed.
The Final Play
The score was 4-2, World Five leading.
Rin's team had scored twice—once from Bachira, once from Nagi—but it wasn't enough. The World Five were too strong, too coordinated, too experienced.
But Rin wasn't giving up.
He had the ball now, his teal eyes fixed on the goal. Loki was in front of him, his golden-brown eyes calm, his body relaxed.
"You can't beat me," Loki said. "You know that, right?"
"Maybe," Rin said. "But I can try."
He moved.
His body twisted, his foot connecting with the ball, sending it flying toward the goal. Loki leapt, his hand reaching—
But the ball curved.
It arced around Loki's fingers, around Silva's head, around Adam's desperate lunge. It flew toward the top corner of the goal, spinning, spinning—
And Isagi was there.
His head connected with the ball, deflecting it away from the goal. He landed hard, his shoulder slamming against the ground, but he held on. The ball bounced away, out of play.
The whistle blew.
"Goal kick," the hologram referee announced.
Rin stared at Isagi, his teal eyes wide.
"How did you—"
"I saw it," Isagi said, pushing himself to his feet. "I saw where you were going to shoot. I saw the curve. I saw everything."
He met Rin's gaze.
"That's my weapon," Isagi said. "Spatial awareness. Direct shots. And now..." He smiled. "Now I can see the future."
Rin was silent for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Maybe," he said. "But maybe... just maybe... you're worth playing against."
The final whistle blew.
World Five won, 4-2.
Aftermath
Isagi stood on the field, his chest heaving, his legs trembling. The World Five were gathered around him—Loki's hand on his shoulder, Luna's arm draped across his back, Silva's massive form blocking the wind, Adam's quiet presence at his side, Pablo's fingers in his hair.
"You did well," Loki said.
"You were amazing," Pablo added.
"Not bad for a sprout," Luna teased.
Isagi smiled.
Across the field, Bachira was watching him, his yellow eyes soft. Nagi was beside him, his grey eyes unreadable. Rin was already walking toward the tunnel, his back straight, his head held high.
But before he disappeared into the darkness, he paused.
"Isagi," Rin called.
Isagi looked up.
"Next time," Rin said, "I won't lose."
Isagi's smile widened.
"Neither will I," he said.
Rin nodded—once, sharply—and disappeared into the tunnel.
Bachira ran toward Isagi, his arms open, his grin wide. "Isagi! That was incredible! When did you get so good?!"
Isagi laughed, letting Bachira tackle him in a hug. "I had good teachers."
"Good teachers?" Bachira pulled back, his yellow eyes scanning the World Five. "These guys? They're monsters wait, no, they're like persistent leeches in the match!!"
Due to them wearing the translator earbuds from Mikage Corp, Luna could understand what Bachira had said and oh boy, was he not happy with that statement.
"Hey," Luna said, offended. "I prefer the term 'devastatingly handsome.'"
Bachira ignored him, his attention fixed on Isagi. "We missed you, you know. Nagi and I. We kept looking for you during the second selection, but you weren't there."
Isagi's chest tightened.
"I missed you too," he said quietly. "Both of you."
Nagi walked over, his grey eyes soft. He didn't say anything—he just stood there, close to Isagi, his presence warm and familiar.
"Your hair is different," Nagi said finally.
Isagi blinked. "What?"
"It's softer." Nagi reached out, his fingers brushing against Isagi's dark blue strands. "The world five has been treating you well huh?"
Pablo preened. "Of course, a beautiful person needs an intensive beauty care. His hair is much healthier now. And his skin—"
"Okay," Isagi interrupted, his face red. "That's enough."
Nagi's lips twitched—almost a smile.
"Welcome back," he said.
"And next time you're going to make a surprise like this, tell me earlier, at least I can prepare myself better", Nagi added.
Isagi's heart softened.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll meet you guys later."
Isagi sat on Pablo's bed, his legs dangling over the edge, his fingers absently poking at a Pikachu plush that rested against the pillow.
The room was... not what he had expected from one of the World Five. Pablo's space was filled with plushies—dozens of them, piled on the bed, stacked on shelves, even hanging from the ceiling in little mesh hammocks. There were Pikachus and Eevees, round cats with big eyes, fluffy dogs with floppy ears, and a collection of small, round birds that Isagi didn't recognize but that Pablo had apparently imported from Korea.
He laughed softly, picking up a small fox plush with a bell around its neck. The bell jingled, a cheerful sound in the quiet room.
Who would have thought that one of the best football players in the world is secretly obsessed with cute things?
He set the fox down and sighed, flopping back onto the bed. The plushies shifted around him, soft and warm, like a pile of stuffed animals at a carnival prize booth.
What on earth is Ego discussing with them?
The others had been gone for five hours. Five hours of Isagi waiting, wandering, and eventually finding his way to Pablo's room, where he had been claimed by the rainbow-haired man and deposited on the bed with strict instructions to "stay and look pretty."
Isagi had tried to protest. Pablo had given him a look.
Isagi had stayed.
He checked his phone. No messages. He checked the time. Nearly midnight. He checked the door. Still closed.
They're probably just... talking about football stuff. Tactics. Strategies. Who has potential and who doesn't.
But five hours?
He groaned, pressing a plushie to his face. It smelled like lavender and something sweet—Pablo's signature scent, the one that lingered on his clothes and in his hair.
I'm going to fall asleep at this rate.
He was just starting to drift off when the door burst open.
"Yoichi!"
Luna's voice was loud, cheerful, and entirely too energetic for whatever hour it was. Isagi sat up, blinking, as the World Five filed into the room.
Loki was first, his golden-brown eyes soft, his lips curved in a small smile. Luna followed, his green eyes sparkling, his blond hair slightly disheveled. Silva came next, his massive frame filling the doorway, his dreadlocks pulled back. Adam was behind him, his blue eyes tired but warm. And Pablo—Pablo was last, his rainbow hair bright, his golden eyes fixed on Isagi with something that looked like excitement.
"Finally," Isagi said, pushing himself off the bed. "I thought you'd never—"
"We're going out," Loki interrupted.
Isagi blinked. "What?"
"Out," Luna repeated, grinning. "You know, outside. Beyond these walls. Into the world."
"You have permission," Adam added. "Ego signed off on it."
Isagi's heart skipped. "Wait, really?"
"Really." Loki's smile widened. "We have until tomorrow morning. Then we fly back."
"Back to Brazil," Silva rumbled.
"Back to our lives," Pablo said softly.
The room fell quiet for a moment. Isagi looked at each of them—at Loki, who had crossed an ocean to find him; at Luna, who teased him but always stood close; at Silva, who trained him until he couldn't move; at Adam, who taught him English with endless patience; at Pablo, who brushed his hair and kissed his forehead and made him feel like something precious.
"You're leaving," Isagi said. It wasn't a question.
"Tomorrow," Loki said. "But tonight..."
"We play," Luna finished.
Tokyo at night was a different world.
The streets were alive with light—neon signs flashing, storefronts glowing, the distant hum of traffic and conversation. The World Five had changed out of their jerseys and into casual clothes, and Isagi felt almost like a normal teenager as they walked through the crowds.
Almost.
Because people kept staring. Whispers followed them—in Japanese, in English, in languages Isagi didn't recognize. Phones were raised, cameras clicked, and more than once, someone ran up to ask for an autograph.
"How do you deal with this?" Isagi asked, watching Luna sign a young woman's phone case with a flourish.
Luna shrugged. "You get used to it."
"Or you don't," Adam added, "and you become a hermit."
"Adam's a hermit," Silva said.
"I'm not a hermit. I'm selective about my social interactions."
"You're a hermit."
"Selective. Hermit."
"Same thing."
Isagi laughed, and for a moment, the weight on his chest lifted. He felt light, almost carefree—like the boy he had been in France, before everything went wrong.
Pablo and Luna dragged him into every store they passed.
"Try this," Pablo said, shoving a soft sweater into Isagi's arms. "The colour will bring out your eyes."
"He needs something stylish," Luna countered, holding up a leather jacket. "Something that says 'I'm cute but also dangerous.'"
"He's not dangerous."
"He set a hut on fire."
"That was—" Isagi's face went red. "That was different."
Pablo and Luna exchanged glances, then looked back at Isagi.
"Try both," they said in unison.
Isagi tried both.
He ended up with the sweater, the jacket, a new pair of shoes, three graphic t-shirts (one with a cat wearing a crown, which Pablo insisted was "essential"), and a small backpack shaped like a fox.
"You don't have to buy me all this," Isagi protested, watching Luna swipe his credit card for the fifth time.
"We don't have to," Luna agreed. "We want to."
"Besides, what is the use of money if you don't use it?" Luna said.
"It's called spoiling," Pablo added, patting Isagi's head. "You should get used to it."
Isagi's cheeks burned. "I'm not—you don't have to—"
"Shh." Pablo pressed a finger to Isagi's lips. "Let us love you."
Isagi stopped protesting.
Loki found a small boutique tucked between a ramen shop and a bookstore. The window display featured matching outfits—couples' clothes, Isagi realized, his face heating.
"Loki, what are you—"
"This one." Loki pointed to a matching set of hoodies—black, with white embroidery on the sleeves. One was slightly smaller than the other. "We're getting these."
"We?"
"You and me." Loki's golden-brown eyes met Isagi's. "We match."
Isagi's heart did something complicated in his chest. "I—okay."
They bought the hoodies. Loki put his on immediately, the black fabric settling over his shoulders, the white embroidery catching the light. Isagi followed suit, the hoodie soft and warm, smelling faintly of new clothes.
"You look cute," Loki said.
"You look... also cute," Isagi replied, feeling stupid.
Loki's smile was soft. "Let's take a picture."
They did. Isagi stood beside Loki, their shoulders touching, their matching hoodies bright under the store's lights. Loki's arm was around Isagi's waist, and Isagi's head was tilted slightly toward Loki's shoulder.
I'm going to treasure this, Isagi thought. Forever.
Oh, and this is such a good material to tease the other two..
He heheheheh.....
Hugo and Charles: Hachumm!! Who is talking but about me?
The arcade was loud, bright, and full of teenagers.
Silva made a beeline for the punching machine—a tall cabinet with a target in the centre and a digital screen that displayed your score. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and threw a punch that made the machine shudder.
The screen flashed.
999.
Max score.
"Is that good?" Silva asked, looking at Isagi.
Isagi stared at the screen. "That's... that's the highest possible score."
Silva grunted. "Too easy."
He walked away, leaving the machine blinking in confusion.
Adam, meanwhile, had found the claw machines.
He stood before a cabinet filled with small plushies—round cats, smiling fruits, and at the centre, a particularly cute fox with a bell around its neck.
"You want that one?" Adam asked.
Isagi nodded.
Adam inserted a coin. The claw descended, his fingers steady on the controls, his blue eyes focused. The claw closed around the fox's bell—not the body, not the head, but the tiny metal ring—and lifted it smoothly, dropping it into the prize chute on the first try.
"How did you—"
"I have a gift," Adam said, retrieving the fox and handing it to Isagi.
"You have a gift," Isagi repeated, clutching the plushie to his chest.
Adam nodded. "I also have a very expensive watch that I won from a claw machine in Vegas."
"Vegas has claw machines?"
"Vegas has everything."
"Even a Gucci claw machine", Adam said.
"Wow.." Isagi was shocked. He wanted to go to Vegas when he is free to see the claw machines there!.
The restaurant was lavish—white tablecloths, crystal glasses, waiters in suits. Isagi felt underdressed in his new hoodie and jeans, but no one seemed to mind.
The World Five ordered everything.
Appetisers arrived first—small plates of odd dishes that Isagi couldn't pronounce. Then soups, then salads, then the main course: steak for Silva, pasta for Luna, seafood for Adam, something vegetarian for Pablo, and for Isagi—
"Kintsuba?"
Loki nodded. "I asked the chef to make it special. Just for you."
Isagi's eyes burned. The dessert was perfect—golden brown, dusted with powdered sugar, the sweet bean paste warm and soft inside.
"Thank you," Isagi whispered.
Loki reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
"You're welcome."
They walked to the hotel slowly, the streets quieter now, the crowds thinning. The World Five would leave tomorrow—flights back to France, back to their lives, back to the world of professional football where Isagi couldn't follow.
Not yet. But someday.
"I'll miss you," Isagi said quietly.
Luna ruffled his hair. "We'll miss you too, sprout."
"Call us," Pablo said. "Whenever you want. Day or night."
"Train hard," Silva added. "Get stronger. So when we see you again, you can beat us."
Isagi laughed. "I don't think I can beat you."
"Not with that attitude," Adam said.
Loki was quiet. He walked beside Isagi, their shoulders brushing, their matching hoodies dark in the streetlights.
"Here," Loki said, pulling out his phone. "Give me your number."
Isagi blinked. "I—okay."
They exchanged numbers—all six of them, trading phones, typing in digits, saving contacts. Isagi's phone buzzed with message after message, each one a simple text from a different number:
"This is Loki. Don't forget me."
"Luna here. Dream of me tonight."
"Silva. Eat your protein."
"Adam. Practice your English."
"Pablo, ♡ make sure to use the skincare I gave you."
Isagi smiled at each one, saving them carefully, creating a new group chat.
He named it: My World Six <3.
Anri was waiting at the Blue Lock entrance when Isagi returned.
Her brown hair was pulled back in its usual style, her chocolate-brown eyes soft with something that might have been worry. When she saw Isagi—his new clothes, his armful of plushies, his bright smile—her expression shifted to relief.
"Did you have fun?" she asked.
Isagi nodded, his words tumbling out in a rush.
"Pablo and Luna bought me so many things. Loki got us matching hoodies. Silva broke a punching machine—like, actually broke it, the screen cracked and everything. Adam won me a fox from a claw machine on the first try. And we ate at this really fancy restaurant and the chef made me kintsuba and it was perfect and—"
Anri laughed, soft and warm.
"I'm glad," she said. "You deserve it."
Isagi's smile faltered for just a moment. Do I? After everything I've done?
But he pushed the thought away. Tonight, he wanted to be happy. Tomorrow, he could deal with the guilt.
Happiness first and grievance later!
Isagi lay on his bed, his phone in his hands, the new hoodie folded on the chair beside him. The plush fox sat on his pillow, its bell jingling softly when he moved.
He opened the group chat.
My World Six <3
He typed a message, his thumbs moving quickly, his heart full.
"Let's have some fun again next time ^3^"
He hit send.
The responses came almost immediately.
Loki: Count on it.
Luna: I'm already planning.
Silva: Train hard.
Adam: Study your English.
Pablo ♡: Sleep well, little sprout. Dream of me.
Isagi smiled.
He set his phone aside, curled up and fell asleep.
-----------------------
I am here!! and I'm gone.
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