Blue Lock: God of Geniuses

It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon—the perfect weather for a day at the park. Six-year-old Kenshi Kusuo, full of boundless energy, was swinging from the monkey bars. Despite the various playground activities—swings, slides, and climbing structures—none of it seemed to challenge him anymore. At some point, without even realizing it, Kenshi had begun performing calisthenics on the monkey bars, his small body twisting and turning with effortless control.

But what really captured his attention wasn't the playground. His sharp eyes locked onto a group of kids, some his age and some older, running around on the large soccer field nearby.

Kenshi slid down from the jungle gym and dashed toward his mother, tugging at her hand eagerly. "Mommy, Mommy! Can we go over there? I want to try that game!" he asked, his high-pitched voice brimming with excitement.

His mother looked down, smiling warmly. "Oh, soccer? Sure, sweetheart, but only if the kids over there don't mind." She ruffled his hair before holding his hand, leading him toward the soccer field.

For a moment, her smile flickered, just enough to hint at a lingering sadness. Soccer. The sport her late husband had loved so much. It was on a soccer field that he collapsed, his heart failing, just days before she learned she was pregnant with Kenshi. She shook off the memories and focused on the present. This is for him, she thought. He would've wanted our son to play.

They approached a group of parents who stood at the edge of the field, cheering on their children. She smiled nervously, stepping forward. "Hi there! My son Kenshi was wondering if he could join the game. He's six," she said, her voice polite but hesitant.

One of the parents beamed. "Of course! It's just a friendly game. With him, it'll finally be an even 5v5!" The other adults chuckled, exchanging glances at how cute Kenshi looked standing next to his mother.

"BOYS!" a father called out in a booming voice, catching the attention of the kids on the field. "We've got a new player joining! He's young, so take it easy on him!"

Kenshi ran onto the field, wearing his red T-shirt, his eyes wide with excitement. The kids on the blue team exchanged smirks, while murmurs of dissatisfaction spread across the red team.

"Great… just what we need," muttered the leader of Team Red, an older boy who had already scored a hat trick to tie the game at 3-3. "Don't get in our way, kid," he added, rolling his eyes.

Tension rippled through the air. The other players were eight or older, and Kenshi's arrival had thrown off the balance. But Kenshi was too thrilled to notice. Wasting no time, Team Red initiated the game with a kickoff, passing the ball quickly and efficiently among themselves. Kenshi, positioned as defense by his teammates, stood back, simply observing. His mother scoffed at their competitiveness, frustrated that Kenshi wasn't getting involved, but she kept her composure and cheered him on.

Little did she know, Kenshi was far from disengaged. His eyes scanned their plays, analyzing passing techniques, dribbling skills, and first touches. The leader of Team Red found himself pressured by two defenders, and instinctively, he passed back to his defense. In that moment, he thought to himself, We're cooked.

But with remarkable skill, he trapped the ball under his foot, rolled it slightly, and kicked it up to knee level before sprinting forward past the ball. Confusion spread among the defenders, who assumed it was just a clumsy attempt to show off—until he blew past them.

Kenshi executed a heel flick, sending the ball soaring over his head and beyond the approaching defenders. He blitzed through the middle, leaving them stunned as they stumbled to catch up. His teammates gasped, and his mother erupted with joy, beaming at the other parents as she bragged, "This is Kenshi's first time ever playing soccer!"

"Pass, pass! I'm right here!" shouted a teammate, ready to receive the ball. Just as he prepared to make a quick pass, a defender blocked Kenshi's path.

"Not on my watch, kid! That lucky trick won't work on me!" the defender said confidently.

Kenshi remained unfazed, still dribbling. He lightly tapped the ball to the right with his left foot, then exploded to the left. As the defender's leg opened, Kenshi tapped the ball back to the right, nutmegging him effortlessly. He rolled the ball back to himself as he caught it by extending his right leg to the ball, leaving the defender spinning in circles.

As the defender turned to find Kenshi, he exploded in the opposite direction, effortlessly dodging yet another opponent. He was completely locked in, the goal in his sights, ready to take the shot—until...

"Kenshiii! It's time for us to go! Say goodbye to your friends, honey." His mother's gentle voice cut through his focus, breaking the trance. The momentary distraction allowed the ball to be stolen, but he simply walked off the field, handing back his red shirt. The other kids watched him leave, some astonished, while others glared at him with jealousy and disdain.

Kenshi took his mother's hand, and they began their walk home.

"Did you have fun, sweetheart?" she asked, glancing down at him as they walked.

"That game felt easy, but soccer is the most fun sport I've ever tried! I want to play it more, Mommy!" Kenshi exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Though he might have been too young to fully articulate his ambitions, one thing was certain—soon enough, he would become...

(Meanwhile)

"That youngster was simply extraordinary out there on the field! Did you hear what his mother said? It was his first time ever playing! Such an unpolished gem can't be left alone to collect dust!" exclaimed a tall man wearing a black fedora, shades, and a trench coat, glancing at the woman beside him as they watched the match unfold.

"Yes, sir," she replied, her eyes narrowing with interest. "Being able to execute such swift and diverse movements is impressive—something most adults can't manage. And yet, a six-year-old rookie pulled it off effortlessly. With that talent on our team, we could not only make it to the youth nationals this year but actually win. We could crush our main competition and put an end to this decade-long rivalry."

The man nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But before we get too excited, we need to see if the child's mother is willing to let him train with Zenin Youth FC."

"Precisely..." the woman replied, her expression turning serious as she scanned the field, already plotting their next move.