The locker room buzzed faintly with low chatter, the sharp clack of studs against tile punctuating the occasional shifting of weight. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a cold, sterile glow on the rows of steel lockers and benches. The faint, chemical scent of disinfectant still lingered from the morning cleaning, mixing with the distinct tang of sweat and athletic tape.
Team Z stood huddled in a semi-circle around Isagi, their gazes sharp and expectant. Every eye was fixed on him, his position as their spearhead cemented from the last game. He had the clearest vision, the one who could see paths they couldn't, and trusted him implicitly to guide them to win the game.
Isagi's voice was steady but firm, carrying clearly through the room.
"Alright, listen up. I've already mentioned this, but we know nothing about Team Y," he began, his eyes moving steadily from one teammate to the next. "No formations, no player profiles, no individual tendencies, nothing. We're going into this game blind, but that doesn't matter."
His gaze narrowed, lips pulling into a faint line.
"First thing we do is press hard. Their first possession will tell us everything. Speed, positioning, their overall level, we'll see it right away." He pointed to Kunigami. "You and I will be leading the initial press. Keep them contained along the wings and force them to either clear it early or commit to short passes. Don't give them space to breathe."
Kunigami nodded firmly, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unwavering, his amber eyes steady.
"Got it."
Isagi's gaze flicked to Bachira next.
"You're on support. Stay back and watch for the person they turn to the most. Be flexible and shadow their playmaker. They'll have someone directing the tempo—find them fast and disrupt them. I want you on their back every time they get the ball."
Bachira's golden eyes gleamed with excitement, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.
"Hmm~ so you want me to stalk them?" he mused playfully, rocking back slightly on his heels. "No problem. I'll make sure they choke on their necks."
"Good," Isagi replied without missing a beat. "Chigiri."
The red-haired speedster glanced up from where he sat on the bench, leaning forward with his forearms braced against his knees. His eyes were steady, but the faint glimmer of anticipation behind them was glaring, a silent eagerness that hadn't been there before.
"You're our detonator," Isagi said simply. His eyes narrowed slightly. "I want you locked and loaded from the start. If they're slow or uncoordinated on the backline, I want you to cut through them immediately. You'll be our instant counter for when they mess up, but that doesn't mean you'll slack off on defense either. You see any passes coming in your domain, steal the ball and counter."
Chigiri's lips curled into a small, confident smirk. He still felt the impact of the conversation they had the other day, and he couldn't wait to make his comeback
"Got it."
Isagi's sharp gaze then swung to Raichi.
"Raichi, you'll man-mark their most aggressive forward. When you find their go-to guy for the offensive, slaughter every possible option he has. Stay on him like a shadow and rough him up if you have to. Don't let him get into rhythm."
Raichi's lips peeled back into a wolfish grin, his eyes flashing with reckless excitement.
"Shahahaha! Hell yeah! I'll be on his ass like glue," he declared, slamming his fist into his palm with a meaty thud. "That bastard won't get a single touch without feeling like death is on him!"
"Good. Kira, I'll need you to act as our orchestrator. Keep the midfield under your lock and key, control and manage every passing lane you can. Whenever you see the opportunity, pressure them like a zombie. Don't tackle them unless it's a 100% certain screw up. Force them to panic and make a mistake for the rest of us to control."
"Leave it to me."
Isagi nodded slightly before glancing at Igaguri, Kuon, Naruhaya, and Iemon.
"Kuon, you keep sweeping aggressively. If they launch instant counters against us, clear it out with your headers. Don't let anything past you."
"Yeah. No problem."
"Iemon, you cover the backline behind Kuon. Communicate with him and keep the defense organized. If there are any counters that get through Kuon, sweep it up and clear it. Leave no gaps for them to exploit."
"Understood."
"Igaguri, draw in the foul anytime you need to. If they're pressing your sideline, use your Malicia to get fouled."
"I'll make them hail the three treasures!"
Isagi's gaze finally fell on Naruhaya. His eyes narrowed slightly, lips pressing into a flat line.
"You just… don't screw anything up," he said flatly, giving the defender a pointed stare.
Naruhaya flinched, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple.
"Wh-What the hell?! You think I'm gonna—?!"
"Just stick to your mark and don't stray out of position," Isagi interrupted sharply, not bothering to humor him further.
With a faint sigh, the defender slumped.
"Fine, fine. I get it…"
Isagi exhaled slowly, straightening his posture. His eyes scanned the team one last time, sweeping over the determined faces before him. His voice lowered slightly, but the weight behind it remained steady.
"Play smart. Play sharp. They've already read our moves and style, so give them hell trying to break through. I don't want to see any hesitation from any of you."
No one spoke.
No one needed to.
The weight of his words settled over them like iron, hardening their resolve.
Without another word, Isagi turned sharply and headed for the gate, his strides measured and unhurried. The faint echo of cleats against tile filled the hallway as the team followed behind him, ready to dominate once more.
As the gate groaned open, the artificial light from the stadium bled into the corridor, illuminating the field beyond. The familiar sight of the pitch came into view, with its pristine turf, glaring white lines, and massive goalposts looming at either end.
Isagi's eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped onto the field, his gaze cold and calculating. His fingers flexed once at his sides, coiling faintly before relaxing again. His expression was calm, but his eyes were lethal.
'I'll show them a hell so bad they'll never pick up a soccer ball again.'
His killer ego has returned.
Isagi strode ahead, his gaze locked straight ahead, sharp and unyielding. His eyes raked over the field, dissecting it immediately. The size of the pitch, the feel of the ground beneath his boots, the faint pull of the humid air on his skin, it was all absorbed in seconds. But his focus locked onto one thing: Team Y.
They were already on the field, stretching and jogging through their pre-game warm-ups. Their uniforms were pure white, making them look somewhat sharp and professional at a glance, with black lettering and numbering standing out in contrast. A few players exchanged quick passes while others worked through stretches and light drills.
Isagi's eyes narrowed slightly.
'Something's off.'
He watched them closely, his pupils subtly contracting as he analyzed their movements. It didn't take him long to recognize the flaws hidden behind their polished appearance. Their passes were crisp but lacked true bite. Their control was smooth but flimsy — their first touches a fraction heavier than they should be. Their spacing seemed neat, but the rhythm of their movement was just a little too stiff, too choreographed.
Isagi narrowed his vision, focusing everything on analyzing them. At first, everything seemed normal, but now that he got a proper lock on it…
'Everything is way too practiced.'
They were just running through rehearsed drills, making themselves look sharp through repetition. They were disguising their mediocrity with routine.
The realization made a cold smirk tug faintly at the corner of Isagi's lips.
'They're fakers.'
"Yo," Raichi's voice cut in, sharp and cocky as he strolled up beside him. His eyes swept over Team Y with a snort of disdain. "Check these guys out. Moving all neat and pretty, huh? Acting like they're pros or something." He cracked his neck with a roll of his shoulders, his expression brimming with confidence. "Bet they're a bunch of fucking frauds."
Isagi didn't reply. His eyes stayed locked on the opposing team, keen and calculating, steadily dissecting their movements.
Kunigami jogged up next, his amber eyes cool and observant as he glanced at Team Y. His hands rested on his hips, breathing slow and steady.
"They look organized," he noted calmly, watching their clean, clinical passes. "We'll have to watch out for them on the counter."
"They're moving well," Chigiri was the next to approach, folding his arms loosely over his chest. His crimson hair swayed faintly as he scanned the field with his eyes as well. "Looks like they know how to play as a unit. They even have Okawa on their team. That spells trouble for us."
Isagi barely registered their voices. His eyes were fixed firmly on one player.
Near the back of Team Y's formation, lingering closer to the defensive line, was a black-haired player with bushy, unkempt locks that hung messily over his face, obscuring his eyes. His body language was smooth, nothing abnormal about that. But while his teammates went through normal passing routes on their drills, he was sending them in different directions. He would pass the ball to open space, and in an instant his teammate would be there.
At first glance, he looked utterly unremarkable. The kind of player you'd overlook without a second thought.
But Isagi's eyes remained locked on him, narrowing slightly.
The player received a pass from one of his teammates, and the moment the ball hit his foot, Isagi's entire focus sharpened.
'There.'
The touch was too clean. Too precise. His footwork looked as mediocre as the others just a moment before, but the instant the ball came into his possession, it was as if his body suddenly enhanced his ability on how to move properly. His pass back was fast and smooth, struck with a perfectly measured force. The ball landed neatly at his teammate's feet with pinpoint accuracy, effortlessly threaded between two players.
It was incredibly subtle, but Isagi recognized the talent and worth that it held. His eyes narrowed further, barely suppressing the faint hum of anticipation curling in his chest.
'So it's you…'
He kept his eyes fixed on the black-haired player, watching closely. The others on Team Y kept up their rehearsed passing drills, moving cleanly but hollowly. Their plays were precise but lifeless, just empty repetition.
But the bushy-haired player didn't follow the same rhythm. His movements were looser, more fluid. His touches were too intentional. Too clean. It was clear he was holding back, at least to Isagi, deliberately concealing himself among the mediocrity of his teammates.
'You're the heart that team Y will rely on.'
Bachira bounced up beside him, lazily rolling his shoulders with an impish grin. His golden eyes flicked over Team Y with curiosity.
"Oooh~ they're all neat and tidy," he cooed playfully. His grin widened. "I can't wait to break 'em."
Raichi let out a sharp chuckle, clapping Bachira roughly on the back.
"Shahaha! Right? Let's fucking tear through these clowns."
Isagi's gaze remained locked on the black-haired player, his expression cold and razor-sharp. His lips pressed into a thin line, barely suppressing the slight smirk threatening to form.
'You can try to hide, but I see you.'
As the referee whistled the teams into their formations, Team Z slowly spread out across the field, each player jogging into position. The artificial turf groaned faintly under their cleats.
Isagi took his spot at the front of the attack, his body coiled faintly with tension, ready to spring. His head turned slightly, eyes locking onto his teammates one by one. Chigiri's sharp stare. Bachira's feral grin. Kunigami's determined resolve. Raichi's barely-contained aggression.
'Good. They're ready to follow through with the plan.'
He turned back toward Team Y. His sharp eyes flicked immediately toward the bushy-haired player, locking onto him like a predator marking its prey. The player's head was down, hair covering his eyes as he jogged to his position.
'Wait, he's playing as the defender? What the hell?!' Isagi was confused when he saw the short teen run to the backline. 'Why would he be playing with the defense if he knows he's the best player on the team? Is he trying to blend in with the rest of the losers? Or is there something else I'm missing? That Okawa doesn't look like he's worth shit compared to him, so why is he being passive about it?'
BZZZZZ
The moment the buzzer shrieked, Isagi exploded into motion. He didn't hesitate, carving his way through the turf with a sharp burst of acceleration. His body shot forward with single minded purpose, cutting through the field like a blade.
To his right, Kunigami mirrored his intensity, driving forward with powerful strides, his muscular frame surging up the pitch like a locomotive. The two pressed high against Team Y with aggressive precision, closing the space immediately.
On the opposing side, Okawa, Team Y's forward, received the initial pass and immediately sent the ball backward toward the midfield. Without missing a beat, he turned and sprinted straight into the heart of Team Z's defense, trying to pull markers with him.
Isagi's eyes glanced back at him. 'So that's their plan. Bastard's trying to stretch us out.'
The midfielder receiving the ball barely had time to orient himself before he was face-to-face with a charging Kunigami. The looming presence of the orange-haired powerhouse closing the distance sent a brief flicker of panic through the Team Y player's eyes.
"Shit—!"
Kunigami's legs powered forward, his boots thudding against the turf with commanding force. The Team Y midfielder had no time to think. His instincts screamed at him to get rid of the ball.
He pivoted sharply and slapped a pass backward, his eyes flicking toward a familiar figure positioned deeper in their formation.
"Niko! It's for you!"
Isagi's eyes flashed.
'So his name is Niko, huh?' The name was irrelevant. The moment the ball left the midfielder's foot, Isagi had already read the entire play. His eyes tracked the ball's trajectory, calculating its speed and spin. His breathing slowed, his mind sharpening into cruel precision. 'Doesn't matter. That ball is mine anyway.'
The black haired player, Niko, darted forward to meet the pass. He moved with grace, his eyes locked on the ball even though they weren't visible.
Isagi's eyes narrowed like a hawk, pinpointing Niko's positioning and timing, as well as the ball's.
'There you are.'
Niko barely had time to angle his body toward the oncoming ball before his vision was abruptly blocked by a blur of black.
The ball hadn't even reached Niko's foot before Isagi was there.
In one fluid, savage motion, he pounced on the pass, his cleat cutting in front of Niko's approach with ruthless precision. His body intercepted the ball mid-roll with an immaculate first touch, cutting it away with a sharp flick of his boot.
Gasps echoed from the field as the Team Y players' eyes widened in disbelief.
"Wha—?!"
"How the hell did number eleven get there already?!"
The stunned voices of Team Y pierced the air, disbelief dripping from their words. Their eyes were still struggling to process the absurd speed at which Isagi closed the distance.
Niko's body instinctively jolted forward, but it was too late. His legs froze mid-step as he watched Isagi steal the ball cleanly.
"You're too slow, shitty bangs." Isagi muttered, keeping his eyes trained on the ball, following its trajectory swiftly.
"Gkh-!"
While the rest of Team Y was reeling in confusion, Niko's mind was already working. Unlike his teammates, he wasn't completely shocked.
'I knew it.'
He had studied the footage from Team Z's previous match. He had seen Isagi's impact firsthand—the way he dictated the game, dismantled Team X's defense, and single-handedly tore through their formation. The way his direct shooting crushed their keeper. He had witnessed how lethal Isagi was when he had possession of the ball.
'I know how much of a danger that number eleven is and I still can't react fast enough to block him?!'
Isagi's eyes snapped toward the goal. Without a sliver of hesitation, he surged forward in an immediate, lethal counterattack. His body leaned into the sprint, boots carving into the turf as he drove toward the box.
Niko's eyes widened as he realized the severity of the situation.
"EVERYONE FALL BACK! DON'T LET NUMBER ELEVEN SCORE!"
No one would be making it to Isagi anytime soon. Since Niko was the last man on their defensive line, and the rest of Team Y had pushed high along with him, there was nothing standing between Isagi and the goal. Nothing but the keeper himself.
The keeper's eyes narrowed, and he roared out, brimming with desperate conviction.
"I'll stop you!"
His gloves snapped into position, legs braced, and his arms spread wide as he squared himself between the posts. His heart hammered violently against his chest. He had also seen the footage. He had watched Hikigaya, Team X's keeper, get utterly destroyed by Isagi's strange and abnormal shooting. He knew the threat in front of him.
And yet, despite the tremor of uncertainty pulsing in his chest, his eyes remained firm.
'No. I won't let him score!'
He bent his knees, keeping his center of gravity low, his eyes locked onto Isagi's body.
"You're not scoring on me!"
His voice rang out defiantly, raw with determination.
But Isagi didn't falter nor did he slow. He didn't even look at the keeper. His eyes were locked on the net itself, honed on the empty space he was about to tear through. His strides were long, powerful, and methodical. Each step was perfectly measured, driving him closer with ruthless efficiency.
He went to shoot.
The keeper's eyes flicked sharply to Isagi's right foot, watching every move he made with great detail. He stood ready, waiting for the moment Isagi would shoot. A second later, he saw the foot snap forward. He pounced into action, diving in the same direction he saw the ball move.
The keeper's eyes widened in brief, startled confusion.
'Wait, what?'
But by the time he realized his mistake, it was already over.
Once again, Isagi scored with the Mirage shot.
The ball cut through the air like a bullet, streaking in the opposite direction of the goalkeeper, darting wickedly before slamming into the bottom corner with pinpoint accuracy. The net billowed violently as the shot tore through it with vicious force, the fabric whipping back against the goalpost.
Team Y 0 - 1 Team Z
Just like that, in the opening seconds of the game, Isagi scored.
"Nice, Isagi!"
"Way to open up!"
"Awesome work as always."
His teammates' voices rang out, cheering from across the field, but Isagi didn't pay any attention to them. Their praise was nothing more than background noise, a distant echo that hardly mattered. No celebration came to him from the goal, no excitement or joy.
His eyes remained locked on the goal, a steely glimmer flashing in his gaze. He barely blinked, his chest rising and falling evenly, as though he'd done nothing more than tie his boots.
'That's one.'
That was all he thought. One goal. Nothing more.
With a slow turn, Isagi jogged back toward the center circle. His expression remained impassive, as though scoring on them was the most ordinary thing in the world.
But while Team Z cheered and slapped each other's backs, Team Y stood frozen.
A stiff tension weighed on their shoulders, the suddenness of the goal robbing them of their composure. Their eyes flickered between the net and the raven-haired striker who had just ripped through their defense like it was nothing.
Okawa stared at the ball lying motionless in the goal. His jaw clenched, shooting a glare at his center back. "What the hell, Niko?!"
Niko didn't answer.
The bushy-haired teen stood still, reviewing the play with every electron in his brain. His eyes narrowed slightly, hidden behind his curtain of hair, as he thought over it time and time again. Unlike his teammates, Niko wasn't bewildered. He knew what to expect when he came into this game, of the supremacy that Isagi would no doubt attempt to establish.
His gaze lingered on Isagi, who was already repositioning himself at the center circle.
The way he moved, the calmness in his body language, it all made Niko's teeth grit faintly. 'That bastard isn't even excited from scoring that goal. He has no reaction at all to tearing through us like that.'
Niko's eyes sharpened. His lips pressed into a thin line.
Isagi had torn through their entire defense in seconds, and he made it look easy while doing so.
But that wasn't what unsettled him. What unsettled Niko more than anything was the way Isagi's eyes flicked toward him as he took his position.
It was barely a glance, brief and subtle.
But Niko caught it.
And in that fleeting moment, he understood. Isagi hadn't appeared in front of him by accident or luck.
'He's marking me!'
The ball was brought back to the center circle. The referee's whistle blew sharply, signaling the game's continuation.
Team Y took possession, their formation shifting quickly into motion. The defenders spread out, the midfielders angling into their respective channels. Niko hung back slightly, his position anchoring the center of the pitch.
Okawa, fired up with frustration, called for the ball immediately. "Over here!"
The pass came cleanly, and Okawa quickly pivoted forward. He surged ahead, eyes flashing with determination.
"Move up!" he barked to his teammates, gesturing for them to push high. "Press hard!"
But despite the newfound aggression, Niko's attention stayed locked on Isagi. He watched as the striker stalked forward, his eyes already hunting.
His gait was unhurried, his body language almost indifferent because of how relaxed it was. But Niko wasn't fooled. He could see the predator behind the mask, and he could see what number eleven was up to.
'He's not sprinting… but he's closing the distance. But why isn't he committing to a tackle?'
It hit him like a bullet.
Niko's eyes narrowed, his sharp mind piecing it together instantly.
'He's reading us, isn't he?! He's trying to gauge what we're trying to do.'
His legs tensed subtly, ready to adjust. He knew, without a doubt, that if Team Y didn't adapt immediately, Isagi Yoichi was going to tear them apart.
"Okawa! Pass it here!" To the right of the blonde mohawked teen, a team Y player called for the ball. He received the pass swiftly and proceeded with a one-two, getting past Kira quickly.
Okawa smirked arrogantly when the ball touched his feet, figuring that he had an open lane now that he broke through. Kuon and Iemon were further down the line, and he couldn't find anyone else around him.
"You aren't going anywhere, mohawk."
Before Okawa could process what was happening, Raichi's body shoved into his side with ruthless force. The weight behind the blow sent Okawa toppling sideways, flailing his arms before he hit the ground with a heavy thud.
"Gh-!" Okawa grunted as his shoulder slammed into the turf, dirt smearing across his jersey.
The second Okawa hit the dirt, Raichi's foot slashed over the ball, swiftly sweeping it out of the attacker's reach with a sharp touch. His movements were direct and unrefined, a rough tackle that fitted his rough visage.
With a quick pivot, Raichi shielded the ball with his frame, his body cutting off Okawa's line of sight. He rolled it forward with a heavy touch, spinning away from the fallen player without sparing him a glance.
"Piece of shit," Raichi spat under his breath as he dribbled away.
Okawa clenched his jaw, slamming his palm against the ground in frustration. His teeth ground together as he glared daggers into Raichi's back.
"Bastard…" he seethed, scrambling back to his feet.
But by the time he pushed himself up, Raichi was already halfway down the pitch.
Team Z's enforcer charged forward like a battering ram, his heavy strides pounding into the turf with unwavering ferocity. His eyes, burning with adrenaline, locked onto the next target in his path — a pair of Team Y midfielders scrambling to block him off.
"Tch, you wanna try and block me and my sexy soccer?!" he snarled. "Bring it on!"
The two midfielders rushed in, angling their bodies to close him down. One came in from the left, the other from the right, attempting to box him in.
With a heavy touch, Raichi knocked the ball ahead, putting just enough distance between him and the defenders to make them lunge prematurely. The midfielder on the left reached first, diving in to intercept.
Raichi saw it instantly.
Without breaking stride, he stepped into the gap between them, leaning his shoulder sharply into the defender's frame. The moment of contact sent the player slightly off balance, just enough for Raichi to cut inside and blow past him.
"Out of my way!"
The second midfielder lunged with a last-ditch effort, his leg swinging out in a desperate attempt to poke the ball free.
But Raichi was faster.
With a sharp drag-back, he snatched the ball away just before the opposing cleat made contact. The defender's leg hit nothing but air, his body shifting awkwardly as he overextended.
Raichi immediately shifted gears, accelerating into open space with a feral grin.
"Fuck yeah!" he roared, feeling the rush of adrenaline as he tore through the line.
Just as he surged forward, he caught sight of a black jersey streaking into position further up the pitch.
"Pass it here, guardian lord." It was Isagi.
Raichi's grin widened. Without hesitation, he sent the ball flying with a firm pass, cutting through the field with a low drive. The moment it left his foot, he knew it was perfect.
The instant the pass came, Isagi adjusted his stride without breaking pace. His eyes sharpened, scanning the field with predatory focus. His mind operated like clockwork, swiftly taking stock of the players in front of him.
The first defender closed in quickly, his stance low and wide, preparing to cut off Isagi's advance. But Isagi didn't even spare him a glance. With a sharp flick of his foot, he sent the ball skimming to his left. The pass was clean and precise, hitting Bachira in perfect stride.
"Bachira!"
The moment the ball reached his feet, a wild grin split Bachira's face. His golden eyes gleamed with giddy exhilaration as he burst forward, immediately slipping into his signature flair.
He made quick work of the first defender. With a fluid elastico, he feinted inward before pushing the ball through the defender's legs, nutmegging him effortlessly. The poor bastard barely had time to react, his cleats scrambled awkwardly as he twisted, losing his footing and sprawling onto the turf.
"Too slow~!" Bachira chirped, giggling with unrestrained glee.
But he didn't stop. With his foot glued to the ball, he advanced rapidly, closing in on the next defender.
"Oi, over here, Bachira!"
Kira's voice rang out from further upfield, his arm shooting into the air as he waved. His eyes were wide, reading the play and positioning himself perfectly to receive a pass.
Bachira glanced at him and grinned even wider.
"Gotcha, Kira!"
But first, he decided to add a little more flair. With a playful flourish, he performed a swift pull-back feint, baiting the next defender into lunging forward prematurely. The instant the defender bit, Bachira slipped around him, dancing past with light, teasing footwork.
"Too easy~!" he taunted.
Then, with a quick shift of his hips, he sent a sharp ground pass toward Kira.
But the ball never made it. Midway between them, a white and black blur suddenly streaked into the lane.
"I'll be taking this."
The bushy-haired center-back appeared out of nowhere, cutting in like a shadow. His body was low, his steps quick and efficient. With a sharp interception, he swept the ball cleanly into his possession.
The entire play happened in a blink, so fast that Bachira barely had time to process it.
"Ah, crap—"
Without hesitation, Niko immediately launched the ball down the field.
It wasn't a random clearance. It was a deliberate, well-placed counter ball, one that shot forward with pinpoint precision.
Isagi's eyes narrowed sharply, tracking the long ball's trajectory.
'So that's their move,' he realized. His thoughts churned rapidly, processing the strategy rapidly. 'They're using a counter system against us. Low possession, high-impact breaks. They let us push forward and bait us into overextending, then punish us with quick, direct strikes.
On the receiving end, Okawa was already sprinting ahead, tracking the ball perfectly. His eyes lit up with eager anticipation, a cocky smirk curling on his lips.
"Nice, Niko!"
The ball arced down toward him, perfectly weighted. Timing his movement expertly, Okawa adjusted his pace, positioning himself beneath it. With practiced ease, he puffed out his chest, preparing to trap it cleanly. But before he could make contact, Kuon came blasting in from his blind spot.
The instant Okawa squared himself for the chest trap, Kuon lunged in, flinging himself toward the ball with reckless force. His forehead smashed into it with a sharp, aggressive header, sending it spiraling toward the sideline.
"Not in my house!" Kuon barked, eyes blazing with defiance.
Okawa stumbled slightly, his chest falling into empty air as the ball shot away from him. He whirled around, glaring daggers at Kuon, who was already jogging backward with a smug expression.
The announcement whistle pierced through the pitch.
"Throw-in. Team Y's ball."
The pace of the match slowed momentarily as the ball was retrieved. Team Y's players quickly shifted into position for the throw, but the energy on the field remained electric, both sides already moving with heightened intensity.
Isagi exhaled sharply through his nose, still watching Niko closely. His eyes narrowed faintly, observing every detail.
"You're going to be a pain in the ass, aren't you."
Hearing his words, Niko turned to look at Isagi. He frowned lightly at him, displeasure marring his tongue. "I can say the same for you."
With a scoff, Isagi jogged back into position. He wasn't here to banter with his opponent, so there was no need to linger.
The throw-in commenced, initializing the restart of the game. The ball arced through the air before landing smoothly at the feet of one of Team Y's defenders. Without hesitation, he settled it with a deft touch, keeping it close as he scanned the field.
"Back here!" Niko called, signaling with a subtle hand gesture. The defender complied, sending a crisp ground pass straight to Niko's feet.
Without breaking stride, Niko swiveled on his heel and sent the ball backward to their goalkeeper, resetting the entire field.
'We need to slow the tempo,' Niko thought, flaking his gaze over the field. 'We can't allow team Z to regain their momentum. Forcing them to adjust their formation to a neutral one is the best decision for now.'
On the opposite flank, another defender peeled away from the backline, making a quick dart toward the sideline. He angled his run slightly, positioning himself parallel to the touchline. The keeper, spotting the run, sent a clean pass flying toward the advancing defender.
The player controlled it effortlessly, trapping the ball beneath his boot with a practiced ease. Without pausing, he turned sharply, keeping his body angled toward the field as he jogged up the sideline.
Team Y was in no rush to surge forward. They weren't seeking to overwhelm with speed or brute force. Instead, they were slowly expanding their formation, spreading their players outward deliberately, using lateral movement to test Team Z's shape.
However, team Z wasn't idle. Pressing from the left, Kunigami closed the distance, his eyes narrowed while he tracked the defender's movements carefully.
"I've got him!" he called out sharply, signaling his coverage.
Before Kunigami could reach him, the Team Y player cut the ball back with an inside touch, slipping it away from Kuon's closing angle.
The move created a brief sliver of space, just enough for him to release a short, snappy pass down the sideline, sending the ball toward one of their midfielders who had shifted wide.
Without stopping, the midfielder caught it in stride, leaning forward and sprinting up the center field. His pace shifted, moving quicker than the defender was earlier, as though he was in a rush to score.
The shift forced Team Z's midfielders to adjust their positioning, pulling them slightly inward as they tracked his movement.
But it was all part of Team Y's ploy. Because while Team Z's midfielders were momentarily drawn toward the center, Team Y's other wide midfielder was already sprinting into the newly created space along the wing.
With a sharp pivot, the ball carrier flicked a crisp diagonal pass toward the empty lane. The timing was flawless. The sprinting midfielder met the ball in stride, his cleats skimming over the turf as he drove forward, now deep into Team Z's half.
"Tch…!" Isagi's eyes narrowed, recognizing the danger but unable to stop it. He was too far away from the play to catch up and make it in time.
'It's easy to see that they're not moving the ball aimlessly around the field. They're prodding the edges of our formation, pulling us apart piece by piece. Honestly, I'm a little impressed these guys are actually good enough to do that.'
"They're trying to spread us thin! Hold formation, everyone!" Kuon called out from the back, his voice sharp and commanding as he tracked the play.
'So he caught on too, huh?'
Team Y didn't falter, however, as the midfielder sent a pass to Okawa, ready to back him up to score the goal.
With smooth, rapid strides, Okawa advanced deeper into the attacking third, his eyes locked ahead, scanning for options and enemies. Seeing Kuon in front of him, he passed the ball back to the midfielder and continued running.
As the midfielder neared the edge of the box, he suddenly chopped his foot down, stopping the ball sharply and throwing his weight into a quick cut to the left.
The sudden movement caught the trailing Raichi off guard, forcing him to slow his momentum for half a step.
"Shit!"
Before he could recover, the midfielder sent a piercing grounded pass toward the top of the penalty area, threading it between Team Z's scrambling defenders.
The ball rolled cleanly into the path of Okawa, who was already shifting into position, perfectly poised to receive it.
"Dammit—!"
Okawa was ready to shoot, swinging his foot at the ball, but Gagamaru came swooping in, stopping the shot in time. The goalkeeper had rushed out aggressively, reading the play in an instant. With perfect timing, he lunged low, his body cutting across the grass in a sharp slide tackle. The lunge, having succeeded, found the ball caught in Gagamaru's grasp, pulling it free from Okawa's reach.
"What the—?!" Okawa's eyes widened in stunned disbelief.
"Finally, I can touch the ball again." Gagamaru muttered, sprinting up to the top of the box. When he got there, he planted his foot and smashed a powerful punt down the field, sending the ball rocketing away from the danger zone. "So long as I'm here, no one's scoring a goal."
"Nice going, Gagamaru." The ball was trapped by Isagi, using his left foot to bell it to his right and dashed. The three players on him all bore shocked looks, unable to process the quick change of pace in time before Isagi escaped. "I'll take it from here."
"STOP HIM!"
Isagi sprinted through the center field, weaving his way through team Y with ease. The first defender came rushing in from his right, arms pumping and teeth clenched, fully committing to cutting him off. His stance was low, angling to block Isagi's path, hoping to corral him to the outside.
'Too slow.'
Without missing a beat, Isagi gave the ball a tap with the inside of his foot, pushing it toward the defender's exposed side. Then, with a sharp jolt, he cut the other way with a swift drop of his shoulder, once again vanishing from the eyes of his mark.
Another opponent came barreling toward him from the left. This one was faster, moving in with more controlled aggression, feet already shuffling to mirror Isagi's movements.
'Better timing, but still not good enough.'
As the player closed the gap, Isagi did step overs on the ball, making it seem as though he was about to turn to either side of him. The defender took the bait, shifting his body weight so he could be prepared to lunge wide. Isagi grinned, using an elastico to nutmeg the other player ruthlessly.
Realizing he was duped, the defender lunged, but he was a fraction too late. His fingertips barely brushed the fabric of Isagi's jersey before the striker was already through, leaving him behind with nothing but empty air.
A third midfielder was next. The poor fool barely had time to react before Isagi shot past him, carving through the midfield like a knife through paper.
Team Y's remaining players scrambled in desperation, trying to form a defensive line, but Isagi was already moving two steps ahead, predicting their every motion. His peripheral vision briefly caught the midfielder from earlier rushing in from his blind spot.
'You're not just slow, you're a completely predictable amateur.'
Without even glancing at him, Isagi flicked the ball sharply to his left with a deft outside touch, slipping it beyond the player's outstretched foot.
The Team Y midfielder's eyes widened, his momentum carrying him too far forward. He twisted his torso in a last-ditch attempt to recover, but it was useless.
Isagi did one last inside cut and was through, gliding past him with effortless grace.
By the time Team Y's players realized what was happening, Isagi had completely gutted their team, cutting through their formation like a scalpel.
But there was hope. Niko and the other centerback stood ready, waiting to steal the ball from the calamity that was Yoichi Isagi. As Isagi approached them, they stood linear to each other, Niko in front and the other one behind.
'So they're aiming to pressure me. Niko comes in and makes me panic while the other guy swoops in and steals it.' Isagi's critical eyes tore down their plan, unfolding their attempt before it even started. 'I can't help but get the feeling of Deja Vu though… '
Bringing himself back to the present, he dashed to the last line of team Y's defense.
Niko's eyes narrowed, his feet shuffling quickly, readying himself. His frame was low and balanced, keeping Isagi in front of him. The defender behind mirrored his movement, staying just out of reach, prepared to cover any slip-ups Isagi made.
Isagi's touches were sharp and controlled, tapping the ball just out of Niko's reach but never far enough to invite the trailing defender in. Probing for a crack in their formation, he shifted his weight subtly, tilting his body with each feint, testing their reaction time and spacing while he did so.
'Tch, they're holding on tight.'
Niko didn't bite on the first fake, keeping his frame steady. The player behind him maintained a perfect distance, guarding against any sudden burst. Their positioning was as rigid as an iron wall, a formidable defense..
But Isagi's eyes stayed sharp, scanning the micro adjustments in their movements.
'You're patient, but you're not perfect. I can see you holding yourself back, Niko. Come on, take the bait. Come steal the ball, I don't bite.'
He danced around them, cutting left then snapping back right, each touch faster and sharper than the last. The ball glided effortlessly between his feet, shifting directions in rapid succession.
Niko's boots scraped the grass roughly as he adjusted again, carefully mirroring the movement. The second defender stayed in sync, mirroring Niko's pacing step-for-step.
'Still no cracks…'
But Isagi wasn't deterred. His lips curled faintly in concentration.
'Fine. Let's see how long you can keep up.'
He pressed closer, closing the space deliberately, tightening the angle between them. His dribbling became faster, more aggressive. He was deliberately reducing the gap, forcing Niko to engage. The bushy-haired teen's eyes narrowed further. He shifted his weight slightly toward Isagi's right, preparing for a potential break.
And that was the mistake.
'There.'
Isagi's eyes glimmered darkly as he pounced. With a deft touch, Isagi lured in one of the defenders, nudging the ball forward far enough to make Niko think he was going for a push-past maneuver.
Niko instantly stepped in, his leg extending to intercept the ball, exactly the same way Isagi remembered him doing so last time.
At the last second, Isagi cut the ball inward with a vicious drag back. His cleat scraped the grass as he hooked the ball behind his plant foot, pulling it sharply away from Niko's reach. It left the familiar gap in formation, one he had seen before.
'I remember this exact fucking thing from back then! When I first found my ego against those shadow players I went up against two months ago!' Eyes wide, Isagi felt a full blown grin slam onto his face. 'I've already beat them before!'
"Shit—!" Niko's foot lunged into empty space. His balance faltered ever so slightly, his center of gravity shifting forward.
Isagi didn't stop. In a blink, he twisted his hips and snapped around Niko's side, his burst of speed exploiting the tiny gap he had created.
The second defender's eyes widened in surprise. He instantly stepped in, lunging forward to close the breach, the same way the shadow had before. Without missing a beat, Isagi nudged the ball forward with his instep, then immediately cut it diagonally behind his own body with a swift backheel flick, performing a lightning fast V-drag. The move sent the ball towards the goal box, opening a perfect lane for him to chase. He ran after it, causing the trailing defender to tumble behind him, and accelerated to the goal with an explosive burst of speed.
"No way—!" the defender cried, pivoting with Niko in a desperate attempt to try and catch up to him. Unfortunately, they were too slow.
Isagi laughed as he sprinted towards the keeper, feeling the hilarity of his previous coincidental match up. "It's just you and me again, buddy! Get ready, because I'm about to score!"
He gauged the distance between him and the box. It was thirty meters, a perfect range for Isagi to try his newest shot. Using his right foot, he tapped the ball to his right and wound up for a shot.
"Woah, seriously?! From over there?!" Chigiri, who had been idle during the game, exclaimed, feeling surprised at Isagi's decision to shoot. He wasn't the only one, everyone else on the field wondered the same thing. No one truly knew the raven head's max shooting distance, but they still didn't think it was going to be from a distance like this.
'I've been working on this shot for the better part of the week, right alongside my Hitman's Sniper Volley. Get a good look at it, everyone! This is my Homing Nagant !'
Yeah, he (I) liked naming things a lot. Sue him (me) [pls don't ^v^].
A loud snap reverberated inside the massive room as Isagi connected his shot. The ball launched all the way to the far right side, going beyond the area where the goal post was.
"Hah! This bozo missed his shot!" Okawa guffawed, pointing at Isagi with a mocking laugh.
'No, you idiot! He didn't miss it at all!' Niko's eyes didn't miss the slight change in stance his opponent made before shooting. He saw the curve of the ball clearly, and even though it looked like it was going to miss, Niko could see otherwise.
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE MIAGI, BLOCK IT! IT'S A CURVE SHOT!"
The newly revealed Miagi lunged at the post, reaching out as far as he could. He couldn't tell that the shot was going to make it, but he trusted Niko's words more than anything. So he dived, hoping to deflect the ball away from the goal.
Team Y 0 - 2 Team Z
He wasn't even close.
"Nice," Isagi brought his hand up in a finger gun and blew on it, like there was smoke coming from the tip of his fingers. His little celebration done, he strode back to the center pitch. "I think I have enough points to buy a bed and a phone now. Sweet."
"Not gonna lie, I thought you were going crazy when you took that shot." When he got back to his side of the field, Bachira greeted him with a grin. "That was super cool~."
"Thanks, but I don't think it's going to get any easier for me. Look at them, they're glaring at me like I killed their dog."
"Haha~, you might as well have. You just knocked yourself two goals against their dreams, there's no way they won't glare at you like that."
"True. Very true, my schizophrenic friend."
"Oi!"
Team Y was really feeling the heat now, none more so than Ikki Niko himself. 'So, that's the strength of number eleven. He's even more formidable than I thought he'd be. The first goal was good, but I wrote it off since anyone can do that if they are lucky and fast enough. This time though, he proved to us why he's the top player on team Z. If we can shut him down, we'll win.'
Glancing around, Niko saw all of his teammates nod at him. 'Seems they think the same thing too. Good, then I'll work with them to shut down that crazy striker.'
Kick off commenced once again.
"Formation Y! Get into formation Y, everyone!" Niko yelled, pushing up high with his teammates. 'This is risky, but we can't hold back on it. We'll have to forget about balance and put everything we have into scoring a goal. That Isagi guy is too good for us to contain, not to mention number eight's dribbling against team X, so we'll score and focus everything on defense afterwards. It's an extremist attack and defense strategy!'
His teammates responded instantly, breaking into coordinated motion. The entire team pushed high, far higher than before. Their midfielders surged forward aggressively, while the defenders narrowed the backline into a tight, compact shape. The spacing between their backline and midfield became dangerously small, reducing the available field space for Team Z to operate in.
The ball was rolled back to one of their midfielders, who immediately punted it high and deep toward Team Z's territory. It was raw and direct, the complete opposite of their methodical playstyle before, but for this plan it was exactly what they needed.
"Long ball! Cover the wings!" Raichi barked out, already sprinting toward the sideline to cut off the wide space. Kunigami was right behind him, rushing back to cover the flanks, while Kuon and Iemon quickly dropped back to fortify the central line. Igaguri advanced forward as well, advancing to the ball with desperation.
But Team Y was already flooding forward. Three of their players sprinted down the wings, while Niko and Okawa drove straight down the center, weaving through the gaps. A previous attacker dropped back to cover Niko's defensive position in his place, filling the hole his absence would leave. The sudden, aggressive overload forced Team Z's defense to scramble, momentarily disorganized by the sheer number of players swarming their territory.
"Tch…!" Isagi's eyes narrowed as he watched the formation unfold. 'They're going all in now? Didn't expect that.''
The ball arced through the air, descending rapidly near the right sideline. One of Team Y's wide players jumped into the air, chesting it down perfectly into his path. He instantly cut inside, driving toward the center with long, forceful strides.
Iemon was the first to step in, closing the distance.
"Not happening!" The defender growled, his boots digging into the grass as he lunged into a low block. The Team Y winger was ready, poking the ball slightly ahead of him before slipping behind Iemon with a quick acceleration.
The ball was immediately laid off to Okawa, who stepped into it cleanly, controlling it with a turn of his body and planted his left foot down. His right leg swung back, preparing to launch the ball into the net.
"He's gonna shoot!"
But before he could, Kunigami charged in, his eyes burning with determination.
"Don't even think about it!"
The tall, orange-haired powerhouse barreled into Okawa's side, shoulder-checking him hard. The force sent Okawa stumbling slightly, throwing off his shot timing.
"Fuck-" Okawa grunted, but he was quick to react. Instead of forcing the shot, he stabbed the ball sideways with his toe to make a quick redirect pass toward Niko, who was cutting into the box.
Niko's eyes locked on the ball, his legs moving on pure instinct. He sprinted toward it, controlling it with a soft touch. He turned to the goal, but in a split-second, he saw a blur of movement in his periphery.
"You're not touching that ball, bush head!"
Raichi exploded into the scene. His boots scraped violently against the grass as he launched himself into a sliding tackle, his entire frame surging low and fast. His cleats hit nothing but air as he slid past Niko, who brought the ball back with the sole of his foot before making his way back to the box.
"This goal is mine." He swung his foot into the ball, bulleting it to the goal. He had a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched, already knowing that it was going in. Gagamaru, even though he dived, was helpless to the ball flying past him. 'Ah, I shouldn't have pushed up.'
"No it's not, you predictable ace." An outstretched leg interfered with the shot, killing its momentum with practiced ease. It was Isagi, who had jumped in time to control the shot before it went into the goal. "I saw this coming miles ahead of you."
"YOU'RE AMAZING, ISAGI!" Just about everyone on team Z mirrored Igarashi's cheer as they witnessed a masterclass of a block come from their strongest teammate. Niko's jaw went slack as he watched his shot get stopped, unable to fathom how such a thing was possible.
Upon landing on the ground, Isagi launched the ball all the way to the other side, right where Chigiri was waiting. "Chigiri! It's all on you, now!"
Chigiri's eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists for a brief second. His heart pounded violently in his chest as he fought to break free from the chains that had bound him for so long.
'You ready, right leg? It's time to fly again.'
Chigiri turned into a blur.
The air ripped past his ears as he accelerated. His feet barely touched the ground, his strides long, fluid, and frighteningly fast.
"Stop him!" one of Team Y's defenders roared, but Chigiri was already far ahead.
His cleats dug in sharply, changing direction with flawless precision. He cut inside, then back out, leaving defenders lunging at empty air.
Isagi's eyes tracked Chigiri's break.
'Welcome back, Genius Sprinter.'
Niko's eyes widened in disbelief.
'He's… faster than before?!'
Chigiri blazed down the sideline, cutting through the sideline with terrifying speed. His movements were smooth and refined, no longer holding any trace of hesitation or fear.
The entire stadium seemed to hold its breath as he closed in on the final third, barreling toward the box with relentless momentum.
His eyes flashed as he entered the box. Without breaking stride, Chigiri's foot hooked under the ball, sending a rocketing toward the bottom corner with brutal precision.
The goalkeeper lunged, his hands stretching wide in his attempt to block the shot, the second one in mere minutes. It was hopeless. The shot screamed past his fingertips and slammed into the net with violent finality.
GOAL!
Team Y 0 - 3 Team Z
Team Z's players exploded into cheers when the screen updated the score, their voices ringing across the field. But Chigiri didn't hear them, all of them reduced to white noise inside the mind of the long haired redhead.
There was something churning inside him, something he couldn't ignore. It wasn't the rush of a simple goal. It wasn't the momentary thrill that came from the ball finding the net. No, this was different. This was the culmination of something far more significant, the moment he had been fighting for, the moment he had been dreading for so long.
'I didn't… feel scared. I didn't feel scared when I was running…'
The apprehension that had weighed down his every stride, the terror that had followed him like a shadow every time he tried to push his limits, it had disappeared in that instant. For so long, he had hesitated at the edge of his own potential, terrified of pushing too hard, too fast, too far, and breaking again. For so long, he held that terror in him. But now, now that he ran the same way he did before, every ounce of doubt, every shred of fear, every lingering second of hesitation, had shattered.
The liberation of releasing himself from the chains of his own mind, the feeling of pushing through the wall he had spent years building around himself, and finally breaking through it, proving to himself that he could do what he once thought impossible, was euphoric to Chigiri.
'I ran. I ran like I used to. I know I talked big the other day, but to actually do it...'
He could feel it in his legs, in the surge of power he'd felt when he exploded down the pitch, in the way his body responded to the familiar rhythm of speed. It wasn't a fluke, it wasn't a one-time thing like he feared it would be. He could run again. He could trust his legs again.
'I did it. I'm really running again.'
He let his gaze flicker across the field, watching the celebration erupt around him, but none of it felt as important as the weight that had been lifted off his chest. His teammates were cheering, shouting his name, running to clap him on the back, but all he could feel was the pulse of his own heartbeat in his ears.
He wasn't just celebrating a goal. He was celebrating his return to himself.
'This is what it feels like.'
The weight of years of self-doubt left a mark on him, marring his mind with fog and weight. But upon his achievement, he felt a clarity he hadn't felt in years. The burden he had carried, the uncertainty about his own body, about his own potential, had evaporated the moment he finished his run to the goal
'I'm not afraid anymore.'
The euphoria began to take root deep within him, spreading like a wildfire. He felt the fire in his chest, the heat of his own triumph.
'I'm free.'
And as his teammates continued to cheer, the sound growing distant as everything else blurred around him, Chigiri let out a primal roar from the depths of his chest. A fierce, victorious cry that rang across the field. He was no longer that player shackled by fear. He was free.
"LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The caged jaguar… was free.
---
Hello, my good and lovely readers. I hope you guys are enjoying yourselves today. So, to explain this, I've decided to go for a play by play style of writing for this game against team Y, just to give you guys a feel of how it's going to look like. It'll probably span out to 4-5 chapters before this game is finished- I'm not entirely sure- but this is to get an understanding on whether you guys want me to do the brief "Half by half" style of formatting for the first selection, or if you guys want me to break it down step by step. Please let me know in the comment section, I really do love reading your thoughts and opinions.
Have a great day, everyone!
If you want to read 5 chapters ahead of time, go check out my Patreon!
Chapter 8: Team Y's Crushing
Chapter 9: An Awakening, A Chess Showdown Between Aces
Chapter 10: A Worthy Rival
Chapter 11: A Fun Interlude
Chapter 12: Execution of the Unworthy
Chapter 13: Awaken, O' Reaper of Death. Face the Phantom that's Come for your Head