Chapter 29: Chapter 29 : Yoichi Himsagi is Ready!
"Isagi, Want seconds?"
"Sure!"
"Are leaving tomorrow then?"
"Yeah, Sorry I could only earn a day"
Isagi sat at the dining table, sharing a warm meal with his parents in the cozy confines of their home. The atmosphere felt tranquil, a rare moment of peace in his otherwise turbulent reality. Though he inhabited the body of their cherished son, he knew the love they showered was not truly meant for him. Yet, as he saw their genuine smiles and felt the warmth of their care, he resolved to embrace his role and ensure their happiness, cherishing the bond they believed they shared.
Although he now inhabited the body of a 16-year-old, his mind remained that of an experienced adult. It wasn't difficult for him to feign the innocence and demeanor of a teenager, especially for the sake of his parents' happiness. Their joy and warmth made the effort feel worthwhile, even if it was all a carefully constructed facade.
Isagi spent the entire morning basking in the warmth of his parents' company before setting out on a leisurely stroll. The day felt unusually serene as he wandered through various spots, indulging in simple pleasures and soaking in the quiet joy of anonymity. He knew that once the intense U-20 match was behind him, his life would likely transform into a whirlwind of fame and scrutiny. This fleeting tranquility was a rare treasure, and he was determined to savor every moment before the spotlight consumed his world.
Isagi's carefree day eventually drew to a close as he returned home, sharing a quiet, satisfying dinner with his parents. Afterward, he practiced yoga to center himself, easing his mind and body before retreating to bed.
Tomorrow marked his return to Blue Lock, and his focus would shift back to the rigorous demands of training. Determined to elevate his game, he planned to prioritize strengthening his left foot while maintaining maximum flexibility—a key to staying adaptable and unpredictable on the field.
Isagi's ball control was nothing short of flawless, a talent that felt almost supernatural when applied with precision and strategy. It was the kind of skill that could turn the tide of any match, a hidden weapon waiting to be unleashed. Nagi Seishiro was a living example of how devastating such control could be—effortlessly manipulating the ball as if it were an extension of his body. With his incredible flexibility, Nagi executed jaw-dropping maneuvers that seemed to defy the laws of physics, blending elegance and efficiency into moves that were both awe-inspiring and devastatingly effective.
Isagi's ball control surpassed even Nagi's, though their approaches differed. While Nagi's mastery shone in his spectacular first touches and finishes, Isagi wielded his control as a weapon for precise, calculated dribbling. This gave him an edge in creating opportunities and dictating the flow of the game. Yet, he wasn't content to stop there—his ambition burned brighter. He was determined to refine his abilities further, pushing himself relentlessly to achieve his goal of becoming the best in the world.
Unknowingly, he found himself slipping into the habits and mindset of the original Isagi Yoichi. The drive to improve, the hunger for greatness, and the meticulous focus on every detail felt natural now as if he had always been this way.
The next morning, Isagi shared a heartfelt breakfast with his family, cherishing the warmth and familiarity of their company. As he stood at the front door, ready to leave, he turned to them with a confident smile.
"I'll be playing football on the big stage very soon"
He declared, his voice brimming with determination.
"So, get ready to cheer for me!"
His parents beamed with pride, their encouragement and love giving him the push he needed as he stepped out, setting his sights on the challenges that lay ahead.
Isagi hailed a taxi to drop him off near the Blue Lock facility, opting to cover the final stretch on foot. The walk to the front gate, perched on a slight elevation, gave him time to reflect on his resolve. Arriving an hour earlier than scheduled, he had no pressing reason to wait elsewhere, so he approached the camera mounted near the entrance, looking directly into it.
Within seconds, the massive doors creaked open, granting him entry. The facility's imposing structure loomed around him as he stepped inside, its sterile yet charged atmosphere a reminder of the relentless competition it housed.
Isagi made his way directly to Team Z's room, only to find it empty. The quietness was striking—every Blue Lock player was already immersed in their intense training regimen. Alone in the space, he took a deep breath, letting the solitude steady him. Soon, he would rejoin the fray, but for now, he savored the calm before the storm.
Isagi donned his training gear, the familiar fabric fueling his anticipation for the grind ahead. With a determined stride, he made his way to the training room, where the air buzzed with focused energy. Stepping inside, his gaze swept over his teammates, their muscles straining and sweat glistening as they powered through their designated strength and stamina drills. The rhythmic clatter of weights and the sharp exhales of exertion filled the room, painting a vivid picture of dedication and grit.
"Ah! Look who's decided to show up"
A sharp voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm.
"The traitor himself graces us with his presence."
The words cut through the air like a blade, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
The sharp voice, laced with unmistakable sarcasm, obviously came from Raichi. His glare was as fiery as ever, his tone brimming with disdain as his words hung in the air, turning heads across the training room.
"Hey Raichi"
Isagi shot back with a sly grin, his tone light but laced with confidence.
"Looks like you've been missing me the most around here."
His words hung in the air, drawing a few chuckles from the others as he met Raichi's fiery glare head-on.
"By the way"
Isagi added with a smirk, his voice dripping with mock concern.
"How's your back doing? Still sore from carrying all that dead weight?"
His jab was sharp, earning a few stifled laughs from the nearby teammates as Raichi's glare intensified.
Isagi's smirk widened as his words hung in the air, their meaning unmistakable to those who remembered the incident. He wasn't talking about literal weight—his jab was a sly reminder of their last aggressive clash, where he had thrown Raichi to the ground with enough force to leave a lasting sting, both physically and to his pride. Raichi's jaw tightened, the memory flashing across his face as the room grew tense with anticipation.
"Are you guys gonna fight or fuck?"
Chigiri quipped from the sidelines, breaking the tension with a perfectly timed jab. The room erupted in laughter, the sharp edge of the moment diffused as Isagi and Raichi both shot the culprit an unimpressed glare.
The bickering between Isagi and Raichi continued for a few more moments, but eventually, the tension fizzled out as they returned to their training. Every member of Team Z had a meticulously planned schedule, with a relentless series of training reps designed to push their limits. The hours were grueling, each set more grueling than the last, and the only reprieve came in the form of two short breaks: one for a meager lunch in the afternoon and another for dinner, followed by a brutal five-hour sleep cycle before they were expected to rise and do it all over again. The schedule was hellish, designed not just to hone their skills but to break them down, only to rebuild them stronger.
There was, however, one glaring exception—Isagi. While the rest of the team adhered strictly to the hellish routine laid out by Ego, Isagi took a different approach, training on his own terms. His decision to defy the schedule surprised everyone, especially when Ego didn't appear over the intercom to yell at him for it. They were left confused, even a little wronged. After all, Naruhaya had once been punished for something far less significant—simply stepping away to use the restroom during training had earned him the harsh consequence of a half-hour lunch break turning into just a 5-minute break. The inconsistency made Isagi's rebellion feel even more unjust, leaving the rest of the team questioning why Ego was turning a blind eye to him.
The training stretched on for a brutal ten days, and Isagi suffered through nine days of relentless drills and grueling routines. By the end of it, every member of Team Z sported dark circles beneath their eyes, the toll of the punishing schedule evident on their exhausted faces.
With the sole exception of one person: Isagi Yoichi. Despite the insane intensity of the training, he seemed almost… refreshed. Every day, he seemed to bounce back, full of energy, while his teammates barely dragged themselves through each session.
The others couldn't help but think that Isagi was somehow getting an unfair advantage by being left out of Ego's brutal schedule. However, it didn't take long for them to realize that Isagi's personal training regimen was far more intense than their own. His focus on core strength and left-leg conditioning pushed his body to extremes they hadn't even considered. What really stood out, though, was his sleep—or lack thereof. While they were all struggling to cope with their 5-hour sleep schedules, Isagi was only getting 3 to 4 hours of rest each night. Yet, he still woke up each morning beaming with energy, as though the minimal sleep was fueling him rather than draining him. It became clear that Isagi's approach to training was both unconventional and ruthless, and the results were undeniable.
Ego, who had always relished finding ways to push his players to their limits, found himself in an unusual bind. He wanted to be petty, to punish Isagi for defying the routine, but even he had to stop himself. The way Isagi was training was, for lack of a better word, psychotic. Even for someone like Ego, who thrived on breaking players down mentally and physically, the intensity of Isagi's regimen was unsettling.
As Ego watched Isagi continue to push through each grueling day, he couldn't help but think.
'Is there anything I can do to break this kid's mental state?'
But it wasn't just about the training—Isagi's unwavering will and mental fortitude were on full display. No matter how brutal the workout, no matter how little sleep he got, Isagi kept going, showing an inner strength that even Ego couldn't have predicted. It wasn't Ego's fault he felt at a loss; the training program Isagi was following was so terrifyingly intense that it was hard to imagine anyone could survive it, let alone thrive. It was a testament to Isagi's strength, a glimpse into his indomitable mental state that left even Ego questioning how much further the kid could push himself.
Anri couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at her as she watched Isagi push himself to the edge each day. She feared that the intense training could eventually break his body. But with each passing day, her worry began to ease. His medical reports came back clear, and not only did they show no signs of injury, but his physical condition was steadily improving. It was baffling.
As the days wore on, it became increasingly clear to both Anri and Ego that Isagi's body was something extraordinary—like a once-in-a-century miracle. Nothing else seemed to explain the sheer resilience and rapid progress he was making. The only thing they could think of was that perhaps a surge of strong hormones was playing a role, helping him grow and recover faster than anyone could have imagined. Puberty, maybe? The idea was a possibility, but it still didn't fully account for the level of intensity he was handling. Whatever it was, one thing was undeniable: Isagi's potential was growing at an alarming rate, and both Anri and Ego could only watch in awe as he pushed past every limit they thought was humanly possible.
The final day of training arrived, and Ego made his presence known in the most unpleasant way possible—waking them up with the blaring sound of an alarm that seemed to reverberate in their very bones. As the team stumbled out of bed, they were barely able to keep their eyes open. Isagi's teammates, and soon-to-be rivals, looked more like zombies than athletes. Their bodies, pushed to the brink by the relentless training, were heavy with exhaustion. Every movement seemed labored, every step an effort. Fatigue had seeped into their muscles, their minds barely functional as they trudged through the motions of waking up. The toll of the past days had left them hollowed out, and yet, they thought they were about to face one more day of Ego's unforgiving program. Only Isagi, as usual, seemed unaffected, his energy and focus as sharp as ever, standing in stark contrast to the groggy, barely-conscious state of his teammates.
"The 1st-Selection in the other buildings has ended"
Ego's voice echoed through the intercom, cold and commanding.
"The 2nd-Selection will begin soon. Prepare yourselves and head to the underground central area in your respective wings."
The words sent a jolt through the exhausted team, stirring them from their fog of fatigue. Despite their bodies aching from the brutal training, the reminder of what lay ahead sparked a rush of adrenaline. The 2nd-Selection was fast approaching, and they knew it would be even more intense than anything they had faced before. Each member of Team Z, though drained, began to move with a new sense of purpose, slowly shaking off the weariness to answer Ego's call. The countdown had begun.
'Finally! The main events are about to start!'
Isagi felt a surge of excitement coursing through him as Ego's words echoed in his mind. He was already aware of the challenges that awaited him in the 2nd-Selection, and unlike his teammates, who were still weighed down by fatigue, Isagi was ready.
He was eager to break through every obstacle that would stand in his way. The thought of stepping onto that pitch to face the U20 team ignited something deep within him—a fire that burned brighter with every passing second. He was determined to prove himself, to push past his limits, and to rise above everyone else. No matter what trials lay ahead, Isagi knew one thing for certain:
He was ready.
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