Chapter 18 – W Team Front Battle
Another area of Blue Lock.
Hanegami Zeya sat on his bed, phone in hand, staring intently at the chat screen.
Why hasn't that idiot Yūshin Seiichi messaged me yet? There's no way it's taken him this long to earn three goal points…
Impossible. Don't tell me—has he found a new partner?!
That has to be it! Otherwise, that guy should've scored more than three goals by now. Damn it! I'm gonna kill him…
"Zeya! What are you doing?" Hiori Yo stepped into the dorm and stared, puzzled, at Zeya sulking on the bed.
"I sent another message to Seiichi. Still no reply," Zeya replied flatly.
"Maybe he hasn't earned three goals yet~" Hiori teased with a mischievous smile.
"Anyway, everyone's heading to watch Team V's match footage. They've also got six points like us."
"Our match against them will basically decide who finishes first in the group. Winner advances for sure."
"What do you say, Zeya? Let's go together." Hiori offered.
"Not interested. I'm going to train. You all go watch." Zeya stood up, shook his head, and walked out without another word.
This so-called Blue Lock… it's not nearly as amazing as Seiichi made it sound. Just a bunch of useless trash. None of them are even worth my attention.
"Well," Hiori added as he watched him go, "I heard there's a guy named Itoshi Rin on Team V. Same last name as Itoshi Sae, the genius."
At those words, Zeya's steps hesitated.
Itoshi Rin, huh? Must be that guy's younger brother…
Whatever. No matter who he is—I'll beat him.
—
At Team Z's training ground, the squad was running 5v5 scrimmages that afternoon. Raichi Jingo, who lost at rock-paper-scissors, was stuck acting as referee.
Yūshin Seiichi had the ball. Every player's positioning was already mapped out in his mind.
"Seiichi, I'm not letting you through this time!" Bachira Meguru grinned, cutting off his route.
But Seiichi wasn't going to force it. He calmly passed the ball to Chigiri Hyōma, then sprinted around Bachira with blazing speed.
"Damn! He's too fast!"
Bachira spun and tried to keep up.
Chigiri saw the moment and passed back. A perfect 2v1 setup.
Just then, Isagi Yoichi rushed in to intercept, stepping into Seiichi's path.
But Seiichi didn't even stop. He tapped the ball with his right foot midair—sending it flying over Isagi's head.
Kunigami Rensuke leaped up, met it cleanly with his forehead, and buried it into the goal.
"Nice assist, Seiichi!"
Kunigami rushed over and slapped hands with him.
—
"Game over! Red team wins, 5–2!"
At the timer's beep, Raichi blew the whistle with pride.
"Beautiful!" Gagamaru Gin shouted, leaping onto Seiichi's back in celebration. He'd scored twice this match.
Isagi was doubled over, hands on his knees, panting. He glanced across at Seiichi.
So strong… Yūshin Seiichi…
Even though Isagi was getting better at using his vision, even though he kept scanning the field with every second—he was always one step behind.
It's the same weapon… but I'm not using it like he does…
If not for Bachira's insane dribbling getting us two goals, we would've lost again.
"I'm jealous," Raichi muttered. "I want to receive a pass from Seiichi too."
"Haha, you'll get your chance next time," Seiichi replied, eyes smiling.
"Alright, let's eat!"
"Let's do the same thing as last time—put all the food in the middle and share," Raichi said happily.
"Nope. You all ate my barbecue last time. I didn't even get a bite," Seiichi rejected flatly.
"I'll give you my pickled radish!" Gagamaru offered.
"I'd rather die."
"Please! I'm sick of pickled radish too…"
"Then ask someone else."
"Chigiri…"
"Screw off."
—
Later, in the cafeteria, most of Team Z had already eaten and gone back to the dorms. Only Seiichi, Bachira, and Isagi remained.
"Seiichi, you eat way too slow," Bachira complained, watching him chew leisurely.
"What do you know? This is called health consciousness. When I'm the world's best midfielder, raking in cash but too sick to enjoy it… how sad would that be?"
"You're getting ahead of yourself."
—
Just as Seiichi lifted his final bite, a new voice interrupted them.
A boy with long brown hair and squinty eyes sat down in front of him.
Seiichi raised an eyebrow.
Who's this? Did someone send an assassin? He kinda looks like me…
"Who are you?" he asked warily.
"You're Yūshin Seiichi, one of the legendary Neon Twins, right? Pleasure to meet you. I'm Kuon Wataru."
Kuon placed his hands together on the table and smiled.
So it's this guy…
A smirk curled Seiichi's lips.
"Aren't you from Team W? We play you tomorrow. Why are you showing up here?"
Bachira jabbed a finger toward Kuon's armband, annoyed. "You didn't even greet me or Isagi. Rude much."
"Oh, my bad. You two must be Bachira and Isagi from Team Z. Of course I know you. You're both amazing."
Kuon quickly corrected himself.
"It's fine," Isagi replied. "What brings you here?"
"Well…" Kuon sat straighter. "I came to make a deal with your team."
"A deal?" Seiichi leaned forward, intrigued.
"Yes. You're tied in points with Team V."
"Imagine… you lose to Team W tomorrow, then lose again to Team V—"
"Hold up," Seiichi interrupted him.
"What do you mean lose to W, then lose to V? Why not imagine us crushing Team W and slaughtering Team V?"
"Right, Bachira? Isagi?"
"Damn right," Bachira nodded.
"I-I mean if things go wrong—"
"There are no ifs. If you've got something to say, spit it out. If it's a fart, then just fart," Seiichi said bluntly.
Sweat beaded on Kuon's brow. What's with this guy's temper…?!
"What I mean is… I'll give you insider intel on Team W. Tactics, formations, everything."
"In return, I want you to let me score in the match. I want to be the team's top scorer."
"That way, I can qualify and stay in Blue Lock. It's a win-win, right?"
Kuon looked at them eagerly.
Seiichi stood up.
"Let's go, Bachira, Isagi. I'm not wasting time with this kind of person. I've got leg day at the gym."
Without another word, he walked away.
"Wait for me, Seiichi! You've been sneaking in extra training again!" Bachira shouted, chasing after him.
Kuon turned to Isagi, desperate.
"Kuon… is this how you repay your teammates?" Isagi said coldly.
"What makes you different from a coward?"
"Whether you help us or not—we're going to win."
With that, he left too.
Kuon remained seated, fists trembling, lips pressed tight.
Don't they get it…?
Fighting as a team? What does that matter if we lose anyway?
I just want to stay here… I just want to keep playing football… I want to chase my dream…
What do geniuses like you know?