Chapter 22 – Denial

The celebration following Team Z's victory was in full swing. Kuon, with a broad smile, raised his cup of orange juice high in the air and declared, "In celebration of Team Z's victory, let's have a toast!" His energy was infectious, and the entire team followed suit, cups lifted, echoing the cheer with a loud, "Cheers!"

Around the tables, laughter and chatter filled the air. The feast was abundant, featuring gyoza, grilled mackerel, stir-fried vegetables, omelets, and the main attraction—sirloin steaks. The boys reveled in the meal, each dish a luxury after the strict Blue Lock diet.

"So good!"

"Meat, how I missed you!"

Others chiming in agreement as they battle for every pieces on the table.

Kunigami, chewing thoughtfully on his steak, struck up a conversation with Isagi. "I can't believe you started that play. That's the first time for you, right?"

Isagi, stirring his natto into his rice, nodded. "Yeah, facing Niko made me realize what my strengths are. I started that play trying to figure out how to use my weapons."

Bachira, overhearing, jumped in with enthusiasm. "That's why I passed it to you, because I knew what you were trying to do!" He jabbed a forkful of steak toward Isagi. "Here, have a treat!"

Isagi laughed and tried to politely decline, but Bachira was relentless. This quickly devolved into a comedic back-and-forth, with Isagi dodging Bachira's attempts to feed him, and Bachira persistently chasing him with the fork.

Kunigami, ignoring the playful exchange, continued the conversation. "It's good you've figured that out. Kira can work out a strategy for using it in the next match."

At that moment, Kira entered the room, catching the last bit of the conversation. "What's this about me devising a strategy?" He glanced around at the group, noticing the feast. "Hey, you started without me!"

Kira quickly wedged himself between Raichi and Kunigami, a little too forcefully, causing Raichi to almost spill his rice. "Oi! Watch it!" Raichi grumbled, barely saving his meal from disaster.

Kuon continued with his excitement. "We were just talking about how Isagi's figured out his weapons and how we can use that in the next match."

"Oh, really?" Kira said, quickly eyeing the last piece of steak on the table. He reached for it just in time to snatch it before Naruhaya could.

Kuon, full of optimism, chimed in again. "With this, our team is stronger than ever. If we keep this up, we'll be unstoppable!"

"Cheers to that!" the team shouted, their spirits high—everyone except for Raichi and Chigiri.

Raichi, still seething from his poor performance during the match, couldn't stand the celebratory atmosphere. He finished his food quickly, stood up, and stormed out of the room, his frustration palpable.

"Raichi?" Kunigami called out, watching him leave with concern.

"What's with him?" Kira asked, though his attention was now on the last two gyoza on the table. He moved his chopsticks to grab them, but Bachira beat him to it, holding out a piece toward Kira's mouth.

"Here, have your treat!" Bachira teased.

Kira raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed at the interception. "I'm not a dog," he said, refusing the offer.

Despite Raichi's exit, the feast continued in a lively, lighthearted manner. The team celebrated their victory, bonded through food, and looked forward to the next challenge with renewed confidence.

.

.

Raichi stormed down the hallway toward the gym, his mind clouded with frustration. It had become a routine for him to walk and think when he was too angry to process his emotions. His father's advice echoed in his head: "Clear mind makes clear decisions." Raichi repeated the mantra, hoping it would help ease the fury swirling inside him.

Suddenly, he collided with someone else, their shoulders brushing harshly. "Oh, sorry about that," the person said.

Without even looking up, Raichi snapped back, "Watch where you're going!"

"Hm? Raichi?" the voice responded, sounding surprised.

Raichi paused and glanced up. The guy who had spoken stood at nearly the same height as him, around 180 cm, with blonde hair and dark roots near the scalp. His eyes were a striking brown with silver limbal rings. Recognition hit him.

"Raito?" Raichi muttered, feeling the tension rise.

The two stood there, staring at each other in awkward silence, memories of their last encounter during a middle school football match bubbling to the surface. That meeting had ended in an altercation, and the unresolved animosity still hung between them. Raito was the first to break the silence.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Raito's voice dripped with disdain.

"What are you talking about?" Raichi snapped defensively. "I'm still doing much better than you."

Raito scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "Not from what I've seen." He stepped closer, placing a hand on Raichi's shoulder before leaning in, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You're still the same trash that cost us the national game. Flailing around, no impact, a burden on defense, wasting your chances."

Raichi's fists clenched at the insult, anger flaring up in his chest. His eyes narrowed as he fired back. "As I recall, you're the one who missed the penalty to win the game."

"No thanks to you," Raito spat, his tone unrelenting. "I'm surprised you even got an invitation to Blue Lock. You're not a striker."

Raichi's face hardened. "My school's winning in our local tournament."

"Only because they have a far superior midfielder than you," Raito shot back without missing a beat. "They probably put you out of the way just to avoid losing." His words were dripping with venom. "I can't wait to play against you. It'll be so sweet to humiliate you and make sure you drop out of Blue Lock."

With that, Raito turned and walked away, leaving Raichi simmering in the hallway, his heart pounding with a mix of rage and humiliation.

Raichi quickened his pace toward the gym, fists still clenched tightly. His temper was reaching its boiling point. He needed to vent his anger before it consumed him, before he snapped and hit someone. As he entered the gym, the words Raito had thrown at him replayed in his head, stoking the fire even further.

"You're just a sack of shit who licked his way into people's good graces," Raichi thought bitterly, recalling Raito's arrogance. "A one-trick phony who can't do anything else on the pitch. Don't act like you're some kind of superstar!"

Raichi stayed in the gym long into the night, using every bit of energy to channel his anger into something productive, refusing to let Raito's words define him.