49. BLUE LOCK 11 AND THE U-20 TEAM

note: what's your guys' favourite unlikely friendship in found? it doesn't have to be two characters that interacted before, just two characters that would be a cute pairing. 

for me, it would probably be kyouka with any of the scary-looking-but-actually-nice guys. like barou, kunigami, or even Toki.

also i think komi and aryu are very funny. i need to remind myself to add more scenes of them.

*⋆｡˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆｡°✩

OH

thank fucking god, was your first thought when Anri sent you the message confirming that you had been chosen for the starting managerial position. You were practically shaking in your pants that you would be swept to the side after your dynamic with both Shidou and Rin—but it seems Lady Luck smiles down on you today (or, Ego was just feeling really bad after sticking you with Shidou for a good week and a half. Good on him).

The U-20 game is today.

Today.

Everything is changing. Everything depends on today.

Just the thought sends anxiety flitting down to your stomach. Your fingers twitch against the upgraded (though temporary) notebook—an iPad with the Blue Lock logo on the back. It's more similar to an Android tablet than anything, and only has a few features—but you take what you can get.

You didn't even have time for your skincare routine in the morning because you were so nervous. If they don't win, you're out of a job. Perhaps, if everything went wrong, the JFU would take pity on you and give you a lacklustre job somewhere within their ranks—but with how things seemed between Blue Lock and the JFU at the moment, it felt really unlikely.

The match was being held in Blue Lock, and thousands of people were let in to watch, and support the U-20 team, because the JFU insisted they do so.

A bunch of money-hungry tanuki, that's what they are.

You can't even find it within yourself to laugh at your own thoughts because if you do, you might vomit out your insides.

Welcoming people and making sure they don't accidentally wander into the shower rooms is harder than one may think. Thousands of people buying tickets and getting a half-assed tour of Blue Lock is surely expensive, but still, they all arrive, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You and the other girls aren't so eager, having to invite them all in.

(Really, how do people get so invested in a soccer game such as this? You can't say anything, though, because you're the same in the end. If you weren't, you never would've taken this job.)

It takes hours. You're exhausted by the time the last few people waltz inside, and you have to remind yourself that you need to at least gain some energy back before the big game. 

Looking at yourself twenty minutes before the match, a half-eaten muesli bar in your hand and a chapstick messily smudged across your chipped lips—you look a mess. But with how high the stakes are today, you think you have a good excuse.

Well, at least they gave me a cool uniform. A navy blue windbreaker jacket with the Blue Lock symbol printed on the breastpocket, and underneath it, a white tee. Black flared leggings and white sneakers—you're sure Anri picked this out for you, Ego could never pick out this much drip if he were in the presence of Donatella Versace herself.

You add your final finishing touches—doing your hair the way you usually do, clipping a dainty silver necklace around your collarbones, and doing as little makeup as possible to make sure you don't look like a background dancer for The Walking Dead, you're (physically, absolutely not mentally) ready.

You think you might just about shit your pants when you walk into the locker room, and there the starting eleven players are, getting ready. Menial things like slipping on shinpads, adjusting shirts, tying shoes—but you feel as though they things are all life or death.

Rin. Otoya. Karasu. Yukimiya. Gagamaru. Chigiri. Nagi. Bachira. Aryu. Niko. And Isagi.

They're all incredible—you know this better than anyone—but the lingering doubt and fear still rule within your mind. What if it isn't enough? Shidou is still on their team, and the plays he makes are independent and nothing short of wild.

Your fingers twitch and you're eager to do something. Anything. To just get your mind off of this.

You see Otoya fiddling with his laces and you rush forward, "Let me get that," you say, before dropping to your knees and doing it for him like you're a mother. You're clearly embarrassed by the confused look he sends you, but you keep your head down and you swallow your pride thickly.

"I can do it." You rush over and tuck in the ducktail of Bachira's shirt that is left behind him. He giggles when he feels your hands on the small of his back, and you quickly walk off in search of the next person.

"Let me," You say, leaning over and slipping on shinpads for Aryu, who gasps and remarks something about glam, but you're too deep within your own thoughts to even hear him. You scramble away, movements jittery and static.

You reach forward, for Karasu, "Here, I can—" But you're stopped by his fingers wrapping around your wrist—engulfing its width in his large hand and lowering your grasp before it makes contact with whatever you were planning on helping with.

He gives you an annoyed expression—but it feels less out of spite, and more out of concern than anything. "Chill. You look like yer about to explode. There ain't nothin' wrong with my hair, promise."

If you weren't so riddled with anxiety, you're sure you would've come up with a snarky quip, like I could debate that—but it doesn't even cross your mind when you feel his fingers wrapped around the bare skin under your palm.

"I'm... not scared of you guys losing." You blurt out, stupidly, and go to slap your hand over your mouth—but you forget it's still grabbed taut within Karasu's grip. 

You tug, but it's useless. You're sure crows aren't meant to have an iron-clad grip.

"I didn't say that." He lets out a heavy sigh and finally lowers your hand. His touch is quickly replaced by him putting a hand on your shoulder—maybe out of a menial sense of pity, he tries to comfort you. "Look, yer our startin' manager. If yer this nervous, then no way we'll be able ta chill. We got it. Swear."

"It's not that..." You press your lips tightly together. "It's just that... everything... your careers, my job—everyone's life is on the line here. I'm..."

You can't force the words out of your throat—they're completely and utterly stuck. Thankfully—it seems that Karasu is far more intuitive than he lets on, and he understands what you're trying to say. He understands you.

That stupidly smart crow gets me... What a strange day this has turned out to be.

"Well, if ya worried 'bout that, then don't be." He places his hands on his hips, a nonchalant expression as he gazes to the side. You look up at him, lifting your eyes and you find yourself staring at the beauty mark on his face, tranced. "'Cause we're good. Real good. Ya know it. And there's no freaking way we're gonna lose after comin' this far. All you and yer pretty lil' head needs to do... is believe in us. Got it?"

You blink. Once, then twice, froggishly. The words sink in after a good moment. You suck in a deep breath through your nose, nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Right." A smile crawls onto your lips, and the anxiety swirling in your stomach finally settles. You feel okay again, and it feels weird to say it's all thanks to Karasu. "I'll do that."

If you tell me to, then I will. I'll believe in you all, and trust that you won't lose. If everything is lost, it won't just be over for me... it's all of you, too. You'll all be fighting for the same goal—for everything you've experienced during this whole time...

For everyone you've met and everyone you've lost—you'll do this not for them, but for yourself. 

With this newfound confidence, you clutch the tablet closer to your chest and hold your chin up high.

Suddenly, the doors creak open, and there stands none other than your coach—Ego, clad in a classy suit and a golden watch that looks far more expensive than anything you've ever seen him wear—he taps on the screen of his own tablet. "Hello all, I'm running a bit late. I've been mulling over this until the very last minute, but... I've decided which players will be on the bench, alongside the secondary manager."

The screen pops up, and there stands the substitution members—the ones on the bench—all familiar faces, people you know and learned to care for. But in particular, one stands out to you. In the corner, outside of the perfectly aligned rows and columns of the players... 

Your eyes soften. Kyouka... You're always right behind me.

It makes you feel a little more stable knowing that if anything happened—you would have her to fall back on. 

"We're allowed three substitutions. Do not let your guard down during the match, and be ready to join at a moment's notice." Ego outstretches his hands and draws attention back to him, from the blaring white screen. "Now, in the past two weeks, with the sole goal of winning this match, you have all succeeded in coming together as a team. The world does not yet know of you. Is this not the ultimate stage?"

The world... will know of these incredible players soon. They'll see them, and they will gasp in wonder. 

Because... you're all so amazing.

Ego pushes his glasses up higher on his nose bridge and gives an unsettling stare to each of you, "In these coming 90 minutes, change your fates... We're winning this, Blue Lock. Today, you will carve your egos into the world."

Cheers erupt in the room following Ego's words, and it feels like the hype for the game has been tripled. Each of the players, with few exceptions, all looked pumped up—and even you felt less dread and more anticipation. As much as I hate Ego—he really does spare encouraging words when we see him in person.

It's time. The door towards the field opens, and it shines a bright light, leading to a whole new world. A world where the only way of deciding things is soccer and a world where everything you know will be challenged.

You swallow thickly. But you step right in.

There, already waiting, is the U-20 team. Sendou—the one who Shidou slammed onto the table, and if you look farther forward, you can spot the green in Aiku's hair. You try not to make eye contact, and move farther forward. Standing at the front (since you need to exit first) almost feels humiliating, but at least you get a chance to see everyone.

Itoshi Sae...

He doesn't even glance at Rin while the little brother glares at him so hard you're sure his eyes will fall out. The look Rin gives Sae makes you nervous. 

Maybe there is bad blood between them, after all.

You don't utter a word as you walk through the doors, and immediately, you're met with the loud cheers of Japanese people from all over the country—watching for this moment. Cheering the names of the U-20 team, holding up signs and banging on drums—they were truly invested in this sport.

Your eyes twinkle as you look all around, meeting the gaze of the camera lens a few times. But, looking over and seeing Anri and Ego—you need to go. You run as fast as your legs can carry you, over to the chairs they're sitting on, and take a seat right beside Ego. He doesn't smell as bad as you expected him to. Actually, he smells like cologne. 

Weird. It doesn't suit him.

From all the way over on the other side—you see Shidou, sunken deep into his jacket so his chin is hidden and looks so incredibly bored. Do they... really wish to win without him?

The cheers are so loud you can hardly hear your thoughts. This world feels so much different to anything you've ever known—a whole new dimension for you to experience. All this... because of Blue Lock. It's laughable—you snort.

Ego sends you a look when the announcers start going over the details of this match, creating even more excitement within the crowd and causing an even louder ruckus, "Laughing?"

You slap your hand over your mouth and look away, sinking deeper into your chair, "No. Not at all, sir."

Ego finally removes his soul-shattering stare from your figure and clasps his fingers together, looking forward. "Good."

You tear your eyes back to the field—seeing each of your players has gotten into position. The field is so large and spread out so wide, you're sure listening to them speak—especially with the raging cheers of the crowd—will be close to impossible. Still... you want to watch his match as closely as you can.

This match is a byproduct of everything that's happened—of everything we're all worth. 

So... show me—show the world what the limit of Blue Lock's achievements will be.

Show me whether we're worth it.

The whistle chirps into your ear—signalling the start of the game. Possibly the start of the end—or perhaps the start of something new, something so incredible you can't even imagine it.

*⋆｡˚𖦹࣪˖ ִֶָ⋆｡°✩

note: still sick but i sort of got out of my depressive slump (still want to kms but whatever) so might start posting more yayy even though i didn't post for like only 2 days!!!