Chapter 3 – Conviction

Kira stepped off the bus, taking in the sight of the massive Blue Lock building ahead of him. Joining a line of players, he slowly made his way to where staff members were distributing uniforms and collecting valuables. At the front of the group, a petite young woman with neck-length brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes led the process. Her name tag read "Anri Teieri," and she efficiently handled each player.

"Next, Ryosuke Kira," Anri called out.

Kira stepped forward, and as she handed him his uniform, he noticed the number "289" and the letter "Z" printed on the left upper arm. "Please head to the room indicated by your uniform letter, change into your uniform, and stand by," Anri said, before taking his personal belongings, including his phone.

Kira hesitated. "Excuse me, I usually use my phone to study football matches. Is it possible for me to hold on to it?" he asked, reluctant to give up such a valuable tool for his training.

"Don't worry," Anri reassured him. "Ego-san will explain after you change how you can get your phone back." She then dismissed him to proceed with the rest.

With no other choice, Kira moved on and made his way to Room Z. Upon entering, he found ten other players already there. One was in the middle of changing, another was fast asleep, and the rest were chatting casually with one another. Kira quickly chose an available locker, undressed, and slipped into the Blue Lock uniform.

'Hmm... this uniform is really form-fitting, but comfortable,' Kira thought as he finished adjusting his clothes. He began to stretch and perform a few warm-up exercises to test the flexibility. 'I can move easily, and the joints feel loose too. Guess I don't have to worry about chafing.'

As he continued his warm-up, one of the players approached him. The boy was short and slim, with thick eyebrows, short hair, and wide-open black eyes.

"Holy crap! The Jewel of Japanese Football! In the flesh!" the boy exclaimed, rushing over and grabbing Kira's hand for a firm shake. "My name's Gurimu Igarashi. Nice to meet you!"

Before Kira could respond, Igarashi launched into an enthusiastic monologue. He began telling Kira his entire life story—how he grew up in a temple, how he despised the idea of living a predetermined life, and how becoming a professional football player was his ticket out of inheriting the temple.

Kira just stood there, dazed by the flood of information. 'Does this kid go around telling everyone his life story?' he thought, baffled by the sheer energy and brashness of the boy in front of him.

Kira breathed a sigh of relief as Igarashi focused his attention on Isagi, who had just entered the room, and introducing himself with the same energy and enthusiasm he had shown Kira earlier. 'Finally! I thought he'd never stop,' Kira thought.

Not long after, Isagi finished changing into his Blue Lock uniform, and suddenly, a large TV screen lit up in the room, revealing the face of Jinpachi Ego.

"Are you done changing? Yes? Good," Ego's voice rang out with a commanding tone. "The others in your room are not just your roommates but your rivals, who will push each other higher."

"I've used my personal judgment to quantify your abilities and rank you," Ego continued. "That's the number displayed on your uniform."

Kira's mind clicked, and he recalled the number '289' printed on his sleeve. He furrowed his brow in disbelief. 'Seems inaccurate,' he thought. Kira was confident in his abilities—far more than to be placed near the bottom of the ranking. In his own estimation, he believed he was among the top five players in Japan. 'Then I'll just have to make a list of those ranked above me and hunt them all down, one by one, to take their place,' Kira resolved.

"That ranking will change day by day," Ego explained further, "and will go up or down depending on your performance in training and games. Finally, those in the top five will be unconditionally registered for the U-20 World Cup six months from now."

Ego's voice grew more intense. "Those who fail Blue Lock... Will Forever Lose Their Right To Represent Japan!" he declared with finality, leaving no room for doubt.

Kira's eyes narrowed at the challenge, processing the gravity of the situation.

"Now then, we'll hold a little entrance test to measure your aptitude," Ego announced, his tone more playful. "Let's play some TAG."

With the press of a button on Ego's controller, a hatch opened in the ceiling, and a football dropped into the center of the room.

"The time limit is one hundred thirty-six seconds. If you get hit with the ball, you're 'IT.' Whoever is 'IT' when the time runs out has to piss off back home. Also, you can't use your hands. Those are the rules," Ego explained, pressing another button on the screen to reveal the current player who was 'IT.'

Igarashi's name appeared on the screen, and his ranking displayed next to it.

"Huh?" Igarashi jolted to attention, his face paling as he realized what was happening.

Ego's voice remained cold but resolute. "Prepare yourself for battle. This is no ordinary game of TAG," he said ominously, as the timer started ticking down.

As the game of TAG began, Kira observed with a cool demeanor. 'A basic and simple game. So, this test will eliminate that one surplus player in this room, who will it be?' he thought to himself, watching Igarashi scramble to tag someone.

Igarashi darted around the room, trying to tag anyone within reach but was repeatedly dodged. His frustration grew until he noticed a player who was still asleep, despite the chaos unfolding around him. A grin spread across Igarashi's face as he saw his opportunity. He positioned himself to kick the ball.

"Still asleep!? Then you're mine!" Igarashi shouted with excitement, thinking he had an easy target.

However, before Igarashi could strike, the sleeping player stirred and reacted with lightning speed, delivering a powerful kick—not to the ball, but to Igarashi's face. The kick connected with his right cheek, close to his nose, sending Igarashi staggering back, bleeding from his nose.

"Ow! Hey, that's a foul! If this was a real game, that'd be a red card!" Igarashi complained loudly, holding his nose in pain and disbelief.

The player who had kicked him stood up slowly, rubbing his eyes as if waking from a nap. He was of average height, slim build, with bright yellow eyes and bob-cut black hair, with golden under-lights framing his face. "Mmm… we just can't use our hands, right?" the player mumbled sleepily. "Mornin'."

Before anyone could respond, a tall, muscular player with spiky orange hair spoke up, glaring at the player who had kicked Igarashi. "Hey, I hate dirty methods," he said sternly. His broad shoulders and intense demeanor made him appear intimidating. "Let's fight fair and square."

"..Someone's a goody-goody," the sleepy player muttered dismissively.

Suddenly, without warning, a ball hit the spiky-haired player, Kunigami Rensuke, square in the face. It was Igarashi, who took advantage of the moment to tag him while everyone else was distracted. The monitor lit up, displaying Kunigami's name and ranking.

Kunigami stood there, his face twisted in anger. His eyes locked onto Igarashi, who was still smirking from his success. Rage boiled inside Kunigami as he prepared to retaliate.

"You bastards… I'll crush you, Iga-guri!" Kunigami shouted, planting his foot firmly on the ground and swinging his left leg with full power. The ball flew from his foot with a bang, hurtling towards Igarashi like a missile.

But Igarashi, in a panic, grabbed the closest person to him—unfortunately for Isagi, that person was him.

"What?! Hey, stop it...!" Isagi protested, trying to shake Igarashi off, but it was too late. The ball slammed into Isagi's stomach with the force of a cannonball, knocking the wind out of him.

For a moment, Isagi gasped, clutching his stomach and trying to regain his breath.

"Ah… my bad, I wasn't aiming for you," Kunigami said, genuinely feeling bad for accidentally hurting Isagi. However, a wave of relief washed over him as he was no longer 'IT.'

Kira observed the chaos unfolding in the room, his eyes narrowing. 'I've seen enough,' he thought, already calculating his next move. His mind was made up. 'I know which player I want gone.'

As Isagi made an effort to tag someone, Kira swiftly intervened, stealing the ball from him without hesitation.

Isagi's eyes widened in shock. 'What? Kira? But why would he…?' He couldn't comprehend why someone would deliberately involve themselves like this.

Kira calmly stopped the ball in the center of the room, his gaze fixed on the screen. "Hey, Ego-san. I've already decided which player I want to eliminate. A minute is too long—let's do it in seven seconds," Kira declared confidently, his voice ringing with determination.

The room froze, players exchanging bewildered glances. They couldn't believe what they had just heard. Eliminate someone? The concept was understood, but Kira's bluntness rattled everyone.

'Eliminate someone?' Isagi's thoughts raced. 'Sure, the one who's "IT" will be eliminated. But to decide someone's fate so easily? To end someone else's football career?'

The previously sleepy player smirked, watching Kira with newfound interest. 'I like him. He's interesting,' he thought.

From the intercom, Ego's voice crackled with sarcastic amusement. "Since you asked so nicely, let's do it in seven seconds." The timer on the screen reset to show just seven seconds.

With a sharp, focused movement, Kira sprang into action. He kicked the ball toward a red-haired player, who dodged quickly. The ball ricocheted off the wall, hitting an angle, and Kira used the rebound to corner his target.

Igarashi's face paled in panic as he realized Kira's intentions. "Wait, wait! You can't…" he stammered, scrambling to run and hide behind other players. Kira was relentless, cutting him off with another precise kick. The timer ticked down to four seconds.

"No! I don't want it to end like this!" Igarashi yelled, pushing another player into Kira's path, desperate to escape. Kira, unfazed, simply dribbled past the obstruction with a smooth flip-flap, eyes locked on his target.

"Why are you targeting me?" Igarashi cried, desperation creeping into his voice.

Kira didn't respond. He had already made his decision. As Igarashi found himself cornered, Kira wound up for a decisive kick. Igarashi managed to dodge at the last moment, and for a brief second, he felt relief wash over him. The timer now showed just one second remaining.

"Hah! It's my win!" Igarashi exclaimed, thinking he had escaped his fate.

But before he could celebrate, the ball rebounded in a perfect U-pattern, bouncing off the corners of the room. It ricocheted directly toward Igarashi's face, and Kira's foot was already poised to strike the final blow.

Without hesitation, Kira kicked the ball, making perfect contact with Igarashi's face. The impact was decisive. The screen flashed, changing one last time to display Igarashi's name and ranking as the timer ran out.

The room was silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

The monitor beeped, and Jinpachi Ego's face appeared on the screen, clapping with mock enthusiasm. "Good work, you unpolished gems. Results are everything here."

His voice sharpened. "Now piss off, Gurimu Igarashi!"

Igarashi's world shattered. He stood there, disbelief flooding his heart. His dream of becoming a professional football player ended in an instant. Despair consumed him. He wanted to scream, to protest the unfairness of it all. His eyes darted to Kira—the one who destroyed his dream—only to find him casually walking back to his locker, indifferent, as if Igarashi's loss meant nothing. Rage boiled inside Igarashi. 'It's all this guy's fault!'

Without thinking, Igarashi lunged forward, grabbing Kira by the collar, spinning him around. "What is your problem? You could've tagged anyone else! Why me? What did I ever do to you!?"

Kira's eyes darkened with irritation. Without a word, he delivered a sharp headbutt to Igarashi's nose, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

"Ah! My nose!" Igarashi cried out, blood dripping down.

Kira nonchalantly dusted off his clothes. "Don't touch me again," he said, his voice dripping with annoyance.

Still desperate, Igarashi, clutching his nose in pain, kept asking, trying to grasp any semblance of understanding. "Why? Why me? Why target me?"

Kira paused, then crouched down to meet Igarashi's eyes, his expression turning cold and intense. He stared deep into Igarashi's soul, and his once calm demeanor shifted to something far more dangerous. His hazel eyes burned with a fierce intensity, a predatory gaze that made Igarashi feel small, insignificant. Fear gripped him as he stared into the eyes of a man who would stop at nothing to win.

"You really want to know why?" Kira's voice was calm but loaded with menace. "Because Your Football Has Nothing At Stake."

Igarashi blinked, confused and scared, as Kira continued, his voice growing more cutting with every word. "Because You Can Survive Without Football. You're only here because you happened to choose it."

The room was dead silent, all eyes on the chilling confrontation. Igarashi felt the urge to run, to escape this monster who stood before him, exuding an aura of cold ruthlessness.

"Because you have nothing that I can use to advance my career." Kira finished, standing up and leaving Igarashi dazed and broken on the floor.

The other players stood frozen, unsure of how to react to Kira's brutal dismissal. The silence was broken only when a cheerful voice cut through the tension. "Hello, my name is Meguru Bachira."

Kira turned to see a player with bright yellow eyes and bob-cut hair smiling at him. "You have quite the monsters, don't you?" Bachira said, his tone oddly upbeat.

Kira blinked, confused. "What?"

Meanwhile, Isagi watched Igarashi. The boy sat on the floor, crushed, his hopes and dreams shattered beyond repair. Isagi's mind raced. 'Is this what it means to win in Blue Lock?' he wondered, his thoughts heavy with doubt.

Ego's voice came over the intercom again, urging Igarashi to leave the room. Slowly, dejectedly, Igarashi stood up and walked out, his dream left in pieces behind him.

Ego's voice crackled again. "Congratulations, you've passed the Blue Lock entrance test. The eleven of you that remain are Team Z."

The test was over, but the weight of its impact lingered, leaving the players in a tense, reflective silence.