A Blue Lock Fanfic

As the final minutes of the game tick away, the stadium is a cacophony of sound and color. The air is electric, charged with unrestrained energy. The roaring sea of fans sways rhythmically with anticipation and fervor. The intensity of the crowd's reactions transforms the stadium into a giant, pulsating heart, beating in time with the frenetic pace of the game.

In the midst of this fervor, the players from the two teams are locked in battle for every inch blade of grasses, their faces are etched with determination, their bodies pushed to the limits. The scoreboard shows 1-0 in favor of the teams in black and green jerseys than the team in white and black accent jerseys.

"Go! Isagi!"

"This is our last chance!"

A boy in white jersey with black accent and number 11 on his back named Isagi Yoichi, as he was called by his teammates, dribbled the ball past two players. Creating a one-on-one with the last defender.

'The Nationals! If we win, we're going to the Nationals!' Isagi thought as he pushed his concentration to take advantage of this chance.

Isagi start a series of intricate scissors, his feet a blur as he executed the moves with precision and his body swayed left and right. The defender, caught off-guard, struggled to track the rapid shifts in direction, drawing him out of position.

Suddenly, Isagi pivoted with a burst of agility, feinting right before swiftly cutting left. The ball remained glued to his feet.

Now, face to face with the keeper. Isagi felt the weight of the moment. The keeper, eyes wide and body tensed, braced for the impending strike. With a final, commanding touch, Isagi set himself up for the crucial shot.

I'm going to Nationals!!

As Isagi prepared himself to shoot, a sudden shout pierced through his concentration. "Isagi, I'm wide open!" Instinctively, he glanced to his right, his eyes catching sight of his teammates positioned in a prime scoring spot. In a moment of selflessness, he made the split-second decision to pass, shifting the trajectory of the play.

With a sharp, decisive strike, the teammate unleashed a powerful shot. The stadium held its breath as the ball hurtled toward the goal, only to strike the left crossbar with a resounding clang. Time seemed to slow as the ball ricocheted off the frame and bounced away, squandering a golden opportunity.

"No way!" Isagi exclaimed, capturing the collective disbelief of the moment.

In the wake of the missed chance, a black and green jersey swiftly moved into action. Without hesitation, they seized the loose ball and, with a powerful swing of the leg, launched a long, accurate pass forward. The ball soared through the air, cutting across the pitch with precision, setting the stage for a rapid counterattack.

"Breakthrough, Kira!!"

Positioned in the enemy's final third, the boy with white hair and hazel eyes remained poised and composed. Without even a glance or a shift in body position, Kira trapped the incoming ball with effortless precision.

With a fluid, almost instinctive motion, he began to dribble past the first defender, his touches delicate yet decisive. The defender, caught flat-footed, was left scrambling. The white-haired boy's movements were a masterclass in control, and he swiftly evaded the second defender, who was equally powerless to halt his advance.

Approaching the keeper, Kira exhibited a calm, deliberate demeanor. With a subtle yet convincing fake, he drew the keeper in one direction. The keeper, reacting to the feint, was momentarily caught out of position. Then he smoothly placed the ball into the net with a simple, assured touch.

The ball nestled into the corner of the goal, sealing the final score at 2-0. As the stadium erupted in celebration and the game concluded, the boy glanced around with a hint of indifference. "Boring..." he mused to himself, his expression a mix of satisfaction and ennui, as if the match had been little more than a routine exercise.

'I can't wait to go pro and leave these munchers behind.'

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Timeskip

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As Kira stepped through the door, he let out a relieved sigh, "Wheww... glad that's over." The weight of the day's events seemed to lift off his shoulders as he entered the comfort of his home.

He kicked off his shoes and slipped into his cozy slippers, the soft thud of his footsteps a gentle reminder of the day's end. Moving into the living room, he found solace in the familiar surroundings, the room bathed in the soft glow of evening light filtering through the windows.

In the kitchen, the savory aroma of cooking filled the air. His mother, Ryosuke Kumori, was busy at the stove, her hands skillfully stirring a pot while her attention was focused on preparing dinner. With her black hair tied back neatly and her brown eyes reflecting a gentle warmth, she embodied the essence of home.

As Kira announced his arrival, "I'm home, Mom," her face brightened with a welcoming smile. She turned around, her expression filled with affection and relief. "Welcome home, honey," she responded warmly. Her voice was soothing, a comforting balm after a day of challenges.

"Congratulations on the win today! You guys are finally on your way to play in the Nationals! Are you excited, son?" Kumori asked as she put the finishing touches on their dinner.

"Not really. The team played like trash, as usual. I had to bail them out again," Kira replied as he made his way to the kitchen counter. He could see some condiments, fried fish, rice, and freshly cooked miso soup.

Kumori's expression turned into a frown. She didn't like how callously Kira described his teammates. "That's not a nice thing to say, son. I wish you would be more social. You never hang out like the other kids, nor do you ever bring a friend home," she chastised.

"I'm just telling the truth," Kira said as he reached out to grab some condiments to nibble on. His hand was quickly smacked by a wooden spoon, courtesy of his mom.

"NO! Wash up first before dinner! You stink so bad that you're ruining the aroma of the food," Kumori said as she started to push her son away from the kitchen counter.

Kira put up minimal resistance before walking to his room to take a shower.

"By the way, there's a letter for you. It's from the Football Association. I left it in your room, so make sure to read it. It seems important," Kumori added.

"OK!" Kira replied.

When Kira arrived in his room, he immediately noticed the letter on his desk. He picked it up, opened it leisurely, and read its contents:

.

'CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR A SPECIAL PLAYER TRAINING PROGRAM!

THE BLUE LOCK PROJECT

Please be at location XX at the designated time.

Sincerely,

Blue Lock Administrative Staff'

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"Blue Lock?" Kira muttered to himself.