Here's part 2.
A wave of unimaginable pressure erupted from Nagi, exploding from his body like a nuclear bomb. It didn't sound out, but the field felt it.
The ground beneath them didn't shake, but everyone stumbled in place, backs straightening instinctively. It felt like they were submerged in water, struggling to breathe from the pressure. This kind of killing intent was one that transcended logic, radiating not from anger, but from awakening.
The pale white and black flames that licked at Nagi's shoulders exploded outward, coiling around him like ethereal serpents. His previously lazy posture had vanished. His spine was straight. His jaw was tight. His eyes, lit with swirling silver and ash, brimmed with an obsessive, focused clarity.
A flaming skull appeared behind his back.
Reo stared, dumbstruck.
"N-Nagi… are you serious?" he asked, barely above a whisper. His throat felt dry. That lazy prodigy, the one who used to coast on talent and instinct, was gone.
"I've never felt like this before," Nagi muttered. "My chest's burning. My body won't stop buzzing. I can already feel the plays I want to make before they even happen. That guy…" He tilted his head toward Isagi, who still walked with that cold, calculating stride back to his position. "He's pushing me. For the first time, I actually want to play this game. I want to see the world of soccer like he does."
Reo's heart pounded. The boy he'd crafted, the one he'd pulled from obscurity and molded into a genius striker, was changing before his very eyes.
"Alright," Slowly, the shock of Nagi's awakening receded from Reo, slipping his expression into a grin. "Then I'll give you the heat you're looking for. Just make sure to beat their ace, alright?"
"Right."
They walked back to the half line together, side by side as they approached the ball. Their footsteps echoed on the pitch like the steady tolling of a war drum. One after another, synced in perfect rhythm. A quiet before the next storm.
Waiting at the tip of the center circle, standing like the final boss to clearing the most difficult game, was Isagi Yoichi.
He was facing them calmly, analyzing them with a calculated look in his eyes. He looked over Reo once before passing him off.
Then his eyes locked with Nagi's.
A subtle smirk curled at the corner of Isagi's lips.
"Looks like you decided to wake up."
The words were light, one could even call it teasing, but beneath them was steel, recognition, and maybe… just maybe, excitement.
Nagi stopped just a few feet from him, one foot planted next to the ball. He stared at Isagi with those silver eyes, now blazing like twin moons. The air between them grew heavy and oppressive, like gravity had increased just for them.
"Yeah… You managed to excite me."
"Good."
"It's weird," Nagi continued, the glow in his silver eyes brightening. "I've never felt this before."
Isagi raised a brow, intrigued.
"This… buzz in my chest. My legs won't stay still. I want the ball. I want to play. Not just because I can… but because you're here."
Isagi's smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth twitching with recognition.
"Excited, huh?"
Nagi nodded slowly. "Is this what it feels like? To want something for yourself?"
"It is."
Reo stepped up beside him, eyes wide with realization, like he was watching a legend take form in real time.
Nagi never broke eye contact with Isagi.
"I want to beat you," he said softly. He didn't say this as a threat, nor was it a challenge. His words were a promise, an oath to himself that he was determined to upkeep. "I don't even care if I win the match. Right now, ust beating you would be enough."
Isagi's heart thumped hard in his chest. Finally, finally, someone that spoke the same language of ego, the same language of zeal he possessed, without the need to shout it out. Niko had done so before too, but he didn't have the skills and talents Nagi currently does.
The hope for a challenge blossomed in his chest and with an upward tilt of his head, a fanged grin appeared without hesitation. "Excellent."
Reo stood just behind them, a step outside the center circle, eyes flickering between the two titans standing across from one another like gods reborn.
It felt like the earth itself had stilled.
Isagi Yoichi, the boy whose voice had sounded like a death sentence only moments ago, stood poised like a blade that had finally chosen to be drawn. Calm, deliberate, with an eerie glint behind his gaze, as if he already knew how this would end. Black miasma pooled around his feet and rose from his frame, an aura of eldritch horror emanating from him. The screech that came from his phantom was piercing to the ears.
Nagi Seishiro, the prodigy who once wandered through the world half-asleep, now stood awakened, blazing with purpose, his shoulders cloaked in smoke-white and jet-black flames, eyes burning with the presence of death itself. The skull on his shoulder, invisible to everyone but those with the highest of egos, roared in retaliation and challenge.
Reo's breath caught in his throat.
'This isn't normal. This isn't normal at all!'
The air around them warped, heavy and choking. The weight of their presence didn't just settle in his chest, it crushed it. As if he were standing between two colliding stars, feeling the pull of their gravity and the doom of their impact.
They hadn't moved yet.
They hadn't even touched the ball.
And yet Reo found himself shivering on his feet.
"This is insane…" he whispered, his voice nearly lost in the silence. "I can barely stay still from the huge presence they have."
He wasn't the only one. Everyone from both sides of the field could feel the tension between the two goliaths.
The tension between Nagi and Isagi was no longer just about goals or victories, it was personal. Spiritual. Two egos clashing in pure form, the game itself becoming the stage for something deeper.
No longer was this soccer. Now, it was war.
And Reo, for the first time, didn't feel like the conductor.
He felt like the audience.
Isagi's foot lifted from the ground and pivoted away, touching down again as he silently returned to his position. He rolled his neck absentmindedly while he walked back.
Across from him, Nagi didn't glance back. He didn't need to. He turned around without a word, stepping lightly to the center circle and stood by the ball.
Finally, kickoff commenced.
The moment the ball rolled an inch, a seismic pulse seemed to ripple through the pitch. Nagi's foot tapped the ball forward casually, but from the instant it moved, Isagi was already on him.
Like a shadow unchained.
Nagi didn't turn his head. He didn't need to. He could feel Isagi's presence wrap around him like a python on its prey. Every breath Nagi took was measured against the ghost of footsteps right at his heel.
"Man marking, huh…" Nagi muttered under his breath, a small grin forming. "So you're not gonna give me any space at all?"
"Not at all."
"Good. It'll be that much sweeter when I beat you."
Nagi passed the ball back to Reo and immediately took off into space, smooth and weightless like mist cutting through fog. But Isagi was there beside him, matching him stride for stride, reading every angle before Nagi could even choose one.
'He's moving like he's inside my head already,' Nagi thought, glancing from the corner of his eye. But instead of frustration, his pulse picked up with a twinge of thrill. For the first time, there was someone who could actually make him feel things. He wanted to bask in this sensation.
Reo sent the ball diagonally back to Zantetsu, trying to redirect the flow. Nagi shifted left with sudden speed, but again, Isagi followed, fluid and constant.
It was suffocating.
It was exhilarating.
Nagi slowed. Pivoted. Stopped dead. Then burst right again with a sudden change of pace.
Isagi didn't bite on the first feint. He adjusted, just slightly, breathing calmly, eyes fixed on Nagi's hips instead of the ball.
'He's not trying to watch what I'm doing. Trying to predict what I'm going to do, Isagi? Just try it.' Nagi realized, eyes narrowing.
They were still in their own half, but the clash between them sent tension surging across the field. Everyone around them was moving, but in that moment, it felt like the world had frozen around the two.
Nagi finally spoke again, without looking back. "You're really not gonna leave me alone, huh?"
"Again, no. I want to enjoy this battle as much as I can. I feel like going against you is going to be the most fun I will have in a while."
"Me too. Try to keep up."
Zantetsu was once again racing against Chigiri, using his body to keep the ball safe from his rival's grasp. He danced around, trying to find an opening for him to use, but he suddenly felt another presence lurk near him.
Raichi.
He surged in from the side, clawing at the earth with beast-like relentlessness. With every footfall he placed, he drew closer and closer to Zantetsu. With the positioning he was in, it was clear that he was aiming to do a pincer move with Chigiri, something the human train couldn't allow to happen.
The ball zipped across the grass again, finding its way out of the danger. As it returned to Reo's foot, Kunigami's presence approached from the right. His quick pace and massive frame closed in fast, but Reo didn't panic.
Instead, he pivoted gracefully. The ball was swung outward, curling toward the wing, sent into the stride of Inasa, who was camping on the wing against Kira. It rode the pass like wind, arcing across the field in perfect sync to match Inasa's run. Now, it was a match up between the opposite wingers of their team.
Kira pressured the opposing player, keeping his eyes on the ball and making sure that he didn't lose sight of it. Inasa, while he was better than the average, was still not capable of dribbling past the Jewel of Japan's unexpected defensive might. He found his option again in the form of Reo, and returned the ball to him.
The ball flew back to Reo like a boomerang, and with a feint of his body, he evaded the full tackle of the resident hero. Turning in the opposite way, he found himself with plenty of space to search for an opening.
'Alright, I need to find Nagi. Where's the best place I can put it for him to reach?' He wondered, keeping track of his friend's positioning in order to calculate his needed information. 'Found it. Go get it, my treasure.'
The ball reached him like it was always meant to, gently bouncing at shin height.
But someone else was there too. It was the phantom that told prophecies, hiding within the shadow of death in order to swallow it whole.
He was glued to Nagi, an echo stitched to the genius's every step. The ball felt the turbulence between them. Nagi's thigh lifted for the trap, a soft touch to control the ball. But Isagi had predicted it. A boot extended to disrupt it, and space collapsed.
The ball was jostled from Nagi's control. It wasn't stolen, but it was disturbed enough to prevent the reaper from doing anything with it.
Nagi clicked his tongue before passing it back. 'Still isn't the right time. We're too far from the goal for me to risk a confrontation with Isagi.'
The ball came to Reo once again. His foot cradled it gently, taking a glance around him to make sure he wasn't covered before he looked up.
'Look for the options. What's the best way for me to get the ball to Nagi and get us a point on the board? Left wing: Zantetsu's already drifting wide, stretching the line. Midfield: Inasa's drifting in, trying to create a triangle with me and Yoshida. Nagi's pushing upward and drawing Isagi with him. And behind them… Team Z's defense is compact again.'
Reo sucked in a breath. 'Holy shit, it's like playing chess on a volcano.'
He had time, but not much. Seconds, at best. He took another soft touch forward, coaxing the ball along.
That's when Kunigami stepped up again.
The steel eyed striker cut into Reo's space like a scythe, eyes narrowed with anticipation. "You're not dancing past me again, Reo."
"You're just delaying the inevitable, you giant gorilla."
With a simple feint and a disguised outside touch, reo let the ball roll just past Kunigami's outstretched leg, then cut it sharply the other way with his opposite foot, slicing through the pressure like a master sculptor. Kunigami stumbled, forced to pivot and recover, but Reo was already past him.
He didn't look at Nagi, he didn't need to. The connection between them was instinctual now. He was going to send a diagonal through ball to reach Nagi, but Bachira appeared before he could.
"Yo, Reo~" A feral grin was on his face. "You ready to dance~?"
"Get out of my way, you creepy fuck. I'm trying to win."
Reo's foot rolled the ball slightly left, then snapped it back with the outside of his boot, a sudden juke designed to throw defenders off balance.
But Bachira moved with it. Instantly.
'He read that?' Reo's eyes narrowed, shifting again. He transitioned himself to spin his body for a Cruyff turn and dropped his center of gravity. The ball slipped between his legs for a back cut, fluid as water.
Bachira chased it without any trouble. He mirrored Reo like a shadow caught in wind, eyes wide with unblinking focus. His arms floated at his sides, like he was dancing rather than defending.
Reo began snapping the ball left and right with shorter touches now, fast enough that his cleats barely made contact with the grass. Every pivot was a challenge, every movement a test of reactions.
But still, Bachira followed him.
'How the hell is he keeping up?! He's literally reacting to everything I'm doing perfectly!'
"Not bad~!" Bachira chirped mid pivot. "But you're stiff, Reo. You're dancing with your brain instead of your heart. Boooring!"
Reo's frustration was a heartbeat away from bursting through his lips when suddenly—
"REO!" Zantetsu's voice tore through the tension, coming in hot on the right.
That was the opening.
Without missing a beat, Reo stabbed the ball with the inside of his foot toward Zantetsu, dragging Bachira's weight slightly with the pass. Bachira turned, prepping to pressure the sprinting winger, but Zantetsu didn't run past.
Instead, the speedster jabbed a one touch pass right back at Reo, who had darted into the gap left by Bachira's brief commitment. The ball curved like a guided missile into Reo's stride.
"Damn it!" Bachira growled, twisting his hips to recover.
Reo was through.
The one-two had bypassed the instinctive chaos that was Bachira's defense, using tempo, timing, and trust to crack open a seam that couldn't be reached by flair alone.
With a single touch to position the ball, Reo split the seam between Igarashi and Kuon and aimed his pass right at the edge of the box, right into the area where Nagi and Isagi were making their way towards.
The ball streaked into his path with perfect precision, slowing just enough for Nagi to adjust his pace and control it.
But the same was said for Isagi.
The second Nagi's foot reached out for the trap, Isagi was there, ready to counter it with a counter trap of his own.
'Well that's not good. He's reading me in real time again.' Nagi's brow twitched. 'I can work around that, though.'
Nagi didn't flinch from the unwanted intrusion. He instinctively leaned in, lifting the ball with a flick off his shin. An aerial trap, one that gave him time and space. His body twisted like a spring unwinding, setting up for the touch that would snap the ball over Isagi's foot and behind his shoulder.
He moved to follow it with the graceful effortlessness that always accompanied his game. The ball approached, and Nagi lifted his foot gently, his heel slicing through the air like a scalpel.
Tap.
A clean trap. Mid-run. The ball didn't even bounce. It obeyed.
Isagi closed in, fast and direct, locking onto Nagi like a guided missile.
'He's not passing it back this time,' Isagi thought. 'He's going to try and break through me himself. Good, show me what you got, Nagi.'
Nagi's eyes didn't blink. They stayed locked on the ball, on his canvas.
He flicked it up with the side of his foot. Another trap, this time letting it bounce off his thigh and pop forward into space.
Isagi matched him step for step.
Nagi caught the ball out of the air again — with his knee, then his toe, then the instep of his foot — three consecutive touches that looked random but somehow kept the ball perfectly aligned to his path. Each trap was a brushstroke on a moving masterpiece.
'Tch… is this a new type of dribbling I'm looking at? These trap dribbles are insanely tough to read!'
Isagi's mind raced, trying to predict the next step. But that was the thing, Nagi didn't move like a conventional player. His feet were brushes, the ball his ink. He didn't dribble in the traditional sense. He painted his way forward, turning the ball into a multitude of possible angles and dead zones.
One touch with his heel behind his standing leg, the ball skipped behind Isagi's ankle.
A tap with the outside of his foot, the ball rotated back across his body.
And then—
Boop.
A tiny lift, just under the ball, enough to make it float midair for less than a heartbeat.
That was all the time Nagi needed to spin left, chest out, foot raised for another flawless settling touch.
Isagi grit his teeth. "Not today."
As Nagi turned to trap it with the outside of his boot, Isagi didn't try to win the ball, not yet. He pivoted into position, syncing his body to Nagi's rhythm, watching every muscle contraction in his opponent's leg. The moment Nagi's weight shifted, Isagi stepped inside.
'Now—!'
The ball descended. Nagi's foot rose to meet it, ready to make his final move before gunning for the goal.
But at the same time, Isagi mirrored him.
Their boots collided with the ball in mid air, squishing it between them. It was a perfect counter trap from Isagi, disrupting the chaotic rhythm Nagi built for himself.
The ball flinched between them, unsure of whom to obey.
Nagi's eyes flared. 'He timed his trap with mine?!'
The ball ricocheted slightly up. Nagi adjusted instantly, letting it hit his chest and fall to his foot again.
Tap. He caught it with the underside of his shoe and rolled it away from Isagi, pivoting on his heel.
Isagi followed. Shadowed.
Nagi tried a new sequence again, heeling the ball over his head and chasing after it.
This time Isagi let him turn… just enough to open his body. Then, with a sudden 180 spin, he slammed his shoulder into Nagi's side.
"Ghh—!"
The contact wasn't dirty. It was clean. But it finally broke Nagi's rhythm.
Nagi stumbled half a step, his balance momentarily shaken.
That was all Isagi needed.
He swept in with his left foot and launched the ball out of the scrum, a hard clearance that tore through the space like a cannon shot. The ball screamed upward, spinning violently as it arced through the air. An elegant, brutal spiral that veered straight toward midfield.
Isagi smirked. "Nice try, genius. It's gonna take more than that to beat me."
"I'll make sure to beat you eventually, you freak of nature."
The ball descended.
Raichi was already tracking it. He sprinted under its arc, calling out as he raised his chest to meet it.
"I GOT IT!"
Absorbing the impact by compressing his chest inward, the ball dropped dead at his feet before feeding a pass to the incoming monster on his left.
Bachira came in like a breeze through chaos, cutting through the tension with his signature ease, that ever-present grin stretched wide across his face. "Good touch, Mr. Sharky!" he chimed playfully as he slipped into Raichi's lane. With a casual flick of his boot, he tapped the ball right back toward Raichi in a short, teasing one two that baited pressure without ever slowing down the tempo.
Raichi was locked in, eyes flaring as he instantly slammed the ball back with a low, snapping pass that skidded across the grass like a skipping stone. "Less talking, more moving!"
The two carved into the heart of Team V's midfield like a hot knife through butter, zigzagging the ball between them with quicksilver precision. Each touch, each step, each pass felt rehearsed yet spontaneous, like two dancers improvising a deadly duet. The ball was never still, always moving, always shifting.
Team V's midfield was left staggering in response. Zantetsu lunged to cut off the angle, but Bachira slipped past him with a la croqueta. Reo dropped back to close the gap, but Raichi beat him with a razor-sharp outside flick that curved the ball just out of reach.
Inasa, seeing the danger too late, surged forward like a missile with his intent clear: to flatten the play before it broke through.
But Bachira met him head-on with nothing but rhythm and chaos.
He let the ball roll close, baiting Inasa in like a matador taunting a bull. At the last second, Bachira performed a deft heel flick, popping the ball just over Inasa's lunging foot. As the powerhouse barreled past empty handed, Bachira twirled after the ball with a devilish grin.
"Too slow, musclehead!"
Catching up to the ball, he laid it clean into Chigiri's lane on the left wing for him to take.
In a flash, Chigiri was gone, turning into a red streak slicing through the left flank, accelerating so violently it felt like the air itself was ripped apart behind him. His boots barely skimmed the turf, his speed staying consistent the entire way. Every stride pushed Team V's backline further into panic.
On the right, Kunigami surged forward with thunder in his steps, his presence a seismic threat for the defense. Where Chigiri was a blade, Kunigami was a hammer. The ground seemed to quake under his momentum, defenders instinctively shuffling back at the sight of his advance. The dual pressure was overwhelming, impossible to ignore.
Within seconds, Team Z had flipped the field. From the grit of defense to a lightning fast offensive charge, they flooded forward like a rising tide with no intention of receding.
Raichi, the anchor, barked orders from the center. "SUPPORT BOTH FLANKS! MATCH THEIR SPEED!" His voice tore across the pitch as he stormed up the middle, scanning for any opening to exploit.
Bachira, who had fed Chigiri the pass, slowed his pace slightly and grinned. "Oh yeah… this is the rhythm," he said, tongue slipping out in glee as he followed behind the attack. "This is what it means to move together!"
Chigiri's eyes flashed as he glanced across the field. Kunigami's position mirrored perfectly with his own. It was a crossfield potential, a classic double threat, the kind of setup that left defenders with no right choice. Quickly, he passed the ball back to Bachira and sped forward, narrowly escaping the tackle from Hisoka.
Reo tried to recover, tracking back furiously. "Zantetsu! Collapse inward! Don't let either of them get open!" he yelled, eyes darting between Chigiri and Kunigami like he was watching a bomb with two timers.
But it was too fast.
Bachira fed the ball to Raichi, who stepped into it and quickly shifted his weight, threading a beautiful diagonal pass toward Kunigami, a grounded bullet that snuck through the legs of a scrambling defender.
Kunigami took the ball in stride, his left leg cocking back. "NOW'S THE TIME!"
Boom!
A rocket of a cross fired across the goalmouth.
Chigiri was already there in wait, but so was Team V's keeper, who dove low to punch the ball out before Chigiri could strike.
"Nice, Zurobi!"
"I got your back Reo!"
The deflected ball hung in the air like a dying star, falling toward the edge of the box.
Kunigami was on it like a bloodhound, barreling toward the descending ball with his fists clenched and his limbs pumping. But Zantetsu was already rushing in from the side, winning the second ball with ease.
He directed the ball in front of him and dashed, narrowly avoiding the incoming pressure from Kunigami, who had been caught off guard by the quick clearance. He took a steadying touch, his body low, and then exploded forward again.
He was alone at first, with the rest of his teammates trying to regroup, but Zantetsu wasn't waiting for them. His eyes scanned the field, searching for the best running path for him to use. Kunigami, still trying to recover, was already back on his feet, but Zantetsu had the advantage of space, and he wasn't about to waste it.
In a blink, he was out of the box, storming past midfield with his long, powerful steps. The ball was loose on his feet as he cut across the field, quickly moving into open space. Naruhaya stumbled in panic from within team Z's defense, caught off guard by Zantetsu's speed and sudden change of direction.
"Let's go, team V! We have a goon to win!" he shouted, pushing the ball forward and seeing the defense scramble to catch up.
Reo's voice came from somewhere next to him. "It's game, Dumbtetsu!"
Kunigami was a few steps behind, but Zantetsu wasn't about to make it easy for him. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Zantetsu saw Raichi closing in from the right, hoping to intercept the ball before he made it too far. He was quick on his feet, but Zantetsu was faster. He dropped his shoulder, weaving to the left and sent the ball into the space in front of him with a perfectly timed first touch.
Raichi was too slow to react, and Zantetsu had a clear path down the middle. His heart raced as he approached the halfway line, and it was clear to him now, this was the moment to turn the tide.
However, in his tunnel vision, he failed to account for the one thing he should have. Before he could push the ball any further, he tripped over an extended leg and tumbled face first into the ground. It was Isagi, who had slid into the ball with a perfectly timed tackle. Since he came into contact with the ball first, there was no foul called on him.
He got to his feet quickly, using the momentum of his slide to help push himself upright, and turned to sprint to team V's goal once again. However, there was one problem. A fortunate problem.
Nagi stood in his way. With his aura of death cloaking him, he was poised in front of him in a defensive stance. "I'm not letting you get by me, Isagi."
"I can't tell you the amount of times I've heard that, Nagi. You're not the first to say this."
Before Nagi could process the words, Isagi's body was already moving. In a flash, the ball was already past him. Nagi's head whipped to the side, trying to track Isagi's movements, but it was already too late. The Vanishing Drive was in full motion.
Nagi's eyes widened as Isagi vanished in front of him. One second he was there, the next he was already five feet behind.
"And you definitely won't be the last, either." Isagi's confident whisper echoed in the wind as he appeared like a phantom, his form completely reappearing just out of Nagi's reach.
"What the fuck?!" Nagi gasped in shock at the play, but he couldn't dwell on it for long. He was the only person on his team remotely capable of stopping Isagi, he couldn't just fail his duty now. His rival had already beaten him twice — now thrice —, he couldn't possibly give up after that. He needed to equalize the score between them, just as he promised he would.
Nagi wasn't one to let promises slide. Not with himself, nor with the game. He would score. He would beat Isagi. He would take back control. He wouldn't be outdone again. All of this he vowed, and within him, his ego answered.
With a sharp exhale, Nagi surged forward, his legs pumping with newfound urgency. His body was ready, his mind laser focused. He had to catch up to Isagi. He had to get in front of him and anticipate his every move.
The field was quiet now, the thundering of his own heartbeat and the sound of his footsteps echoing in his ears. He barely noticed the other players around him, completely ignoring the presence of Reo in front of him. He didn't even bother to check the look of surprise on Reo's face when he found himself blitzed by his best friend. The only thing that mattered was Isagi, the ball, and the space between them.
Nagi pushed forward, weaving in and out of his teammates, his mind already finding the angles and patterns. He could almost feel Isagi's next move before it even happened. It was almost as if the space between them was a language, and he was beginning to decipher it.
He couldn't let this moment slip away. If he failed now, it would be more than just a loss. It would be the confirmation that Isagi was the better player, that he will always be the better player. And Nagi couldn't bear that. Not when he had his new ego at stake.
The goal was within reach now, thirty meters away from the raven headed striker. Isagi was just ahead, but Nagi wasn't going to let him slip away again.
"Not this time," he muttered to himself, eyes narrowing as he prepared for what was to come.
Isagi wounded his foot up for his shot, but a quick glance to his right caused him to stop. Nagi had come through and pounced at him with an extended leg. Readjusting himself, Isagi used his right leg to do a v drag, pulling it back towards himself before using the outside of his foot to push the ball between Nagi's legs in a seamless nutmeg.
Nagi wasn't about to let this slide. In his state of hyper focus, his body flowing with perfect timing to his next move, swiveling on his planted right foot in order to face Isagi, and extended his leg out to block the shot that was bound to come.
Rather than firing off a shot, Isagi brought his foot down again, letting the ball bounce slightly away from his body. Nagi's eyes flashed with momentary confusion, but in that instant, his instincts kicked in. He tried to surge forward, extending his leg to swipe the ball away from Isagi.
But Isagi was already a step ahead.
In a fluid motion, he executed a perfect La Croqueta, shifting the ball across his body with a gentle tap of his right foot, gliding effortlessly past Nagi's outstretched leg. Isagi was back in motion, his body flowing through every movement with practiced brilliance. Now free from Nagi's pressure, Isagi surged forward a few more paces before shooting the ball.
But the genius refused to allow this. Rather than rely on analysis and logic like Reo always taught him, he let instinct take the wheel. His body flowed with a strange, unconscious rhythm, driven by a deep compulsion to stop Isagi. And in the instant Isagi wound up his shot, Nagi reacted.
He launched himself into the air with a snap of movement that felt more like a reflex than decision, his right leg slicing upward like a guillotine. The ball collided with his foot with a loud thunk, and for a moment, everything froze.
It stuck to his foot like it had been waiting for him. Like it belonged to him.
The flames cloaking Nagi's frame hissed in the silence. Like the grim reaper collecting his due, Nagi's death trap captured the soul that was the ball.
"Woah, nice,"
Isagi's breath caught in his throat, eyes widening as the weight of what had happened crashed down on him. 'That was supposed to be it. I created the space I needed to take the shot. I read everything perfectly, so how the hell did he still catch up to me? Fuck, no time to think, I need to recover on defense.'
Isagi's body kicked into gear, spinning on his heel as Nagi's boots hit the grass with the sound of a thump. Like a bullet out of a sniper's chamber, he burst forward, the ball held to his side with surgical control. His movements were smooth, frictionless in the way he dribbled. It wasn't speed that made him dangerous, it was the amount of control and nimbleness he had when moving. Nagi didn't sprint like a sprinter. He moved like someone gliding on air, unburdened by doubt.
Isagi was right next to him again. The moment the shot failed, he'd switched mental gears like flipping a switch. That was the beauty of Isagi's mind: it was unburdened by things like doubt, desperation, or worry. It always adapted to its circumstances and surroundings, never staying in a single place.
'Think, how was Nagi able to react in time to block my shot when he was nowhere near that level before? Was there something I missed, a hidden factor I wasn't able to discern?' Isagi's thoughts ran at impossible speeds as he chased after Nagi. The ball found its way to Reo in a one two, where Nagi chipped the ball above the sliding leg of Raichi. 'There's an obvious difference in styles Nagi and I play. He said that his body was buzzing at him to take action, like he's more inclined to instinctive types of plays rather than logical. But those go hand in hand, don't they? No, knowing the world of soccer and the various players playing the game, there's most certainly something different about them that stands out.'
Isagi stuck his foot out and blocked another pass to Reo from Nagi, checking the white haired teen in the shoulder to knock him off balance. It worked, and Isagi gained possession of the ball. 'If I were to make an assumption, I'd say that it's not the fact that Nagi's a purely instinctive striker, but that he's aligned with that playstyle. That sounds reasonable. Ok, now that I've got that figured out, what's the opposite of an instinctive player?'
Isagi swiped the ball over to Bachira and continued his run, letting the monster run his chaos as freely as he wished. 'The opposite of instinct is logic, so that means that logical players are the antithesis of instinctive players and vice versa. Ah, that's the difference. Logical players like me calculate our probabilities and moves in order to create our skills and plays, while instinctive players can do so on the fly based on the feeling their body gives them. In other words, it's talented learners vs literal geniuses. Completely bullshit, but it's cool.'
He hopped over a pass sent from Bachira and let it skip to Chigiri, who upon receiving it crossed it to the other side of the field where Kunigami was. 'Now I need to label who belongs to which category. I'd say Nagi, Chigiri, and Bachira belong in the genius category for sure. Meanwhile, Niko, Igarashi, and I belong in the talented learners section. Nagi, Chigiri, and Bachira all rely on the gifts and talents given to them by birth, instinctively harnessing their abilities without any trouble. Igarashi, Niko, and I all used calculations to develop our abilities. I saw in the game against team Y that Niko was calculating and planning everything like I was, which was one of the reasons it was so fun. I developed my skills to revolve around my physical might, adaptive playstyle, and misdirection, while Igarashi created his to follow his core beliefs in Buddhism, giving birth to the concept of conversion that he expanded on.'
Now he needed to drop back since Reo managed to steal the ball from Kira. He stayed on Nagi the entire time, not giving him an inch. 'If it was the old me, I would have thought that I was in a hopeless situation when I discovered this, but right now I can see that it's not all black and white on it. Yeah, on paper, geniuses are a lot better than us talented learners, but it doesn't work like that. I learned how to create my own moves from Bachira by deconstructing his dribbling and adapting it for myself, while Nagi awakened his illogical new self in order to compete with me. It's a fucking cycle! A back and forth battle between geniuses and talented learners in an eternal competition for supremacy!'
His face stretched into a feral, excited grin. Sticking his foot out, he poked the ball away from Nagi's feet, chasing after it with the genius in tow. 'Holy shit, holy shit, holy fucking shit! What the hell?! How did I never notice this before?! This is mind blowing! I'm totally blown away! Never in my life would I have thought that soccer was such a terrifyingly diverse sport! I always thought logic and instinct are balanced hand in hand, but my definition of it was completely bullshit! This opens up so many new options for me to exploit, it gives me so much diversity on how I can use everyone to score goals! Not only that, but thanks to the "ego" coach Jinpachi is trying to assert on all the players in Blue Lock, it doesn't even end!
If everyone is playing with a major ego in them, that means that they'll most certainly want to be the star of the show. If the opportunities are presented to them, they will go head first into the danger in order to score, me included! The Protagonist Theory, where everyone is the main character to their own story! It's a universal law of soccer mentality, not restricted to either a genius or a talented learner! Another tool for me to use in order to create my chances, how marvelous! I'm fucking brilliant!'
"Damn, I'm fucking amazing." The words escaped Isagi's mouth like a truth too obvious to be denied.
Armed with his newfound knowledge and understanding, Isagi's mind began to shift. His eyes shimmered with a manic gleam, as though galaxies of possibility had cracked open in his mind. A new axis had formed within him, one that rewrote how he perceived the field. His entire perception of the game had evolved.
His brain surged like a supercomputer, filtering the chaos of the match into clean streams of information. Irrelevant data—discarded. Current organization of information—reassembled. In a matter of seconds, Isagi reprogrammed his entire state of being, adapting to the one person no human could possibly adapt themselves to.
Himself.
Sprinting beside him, Nagi looked over confusedly at Isagi, but soon didn't pay him any attention. The gravity between them had grown too strong. Before his awakening, his curiosity would have made him ask the question in his mind, but right now, all Nagi felt now was the consuming urge—no, the need—to crush Isagi. His blood roared, pounding with the rhythm of challenge, his heartbeat syncing with the pulse of the game. Every fiber of his being screamed to catch up and overcome his new rival.
Isagi claimed possession of the ball first. He kept his body between Nagi and the spherical object in order to protect it and build for his next play. He made a step to the right, watching as Nagi stepped to follow, then twist to the opposite side and used his right leg, which he pushed off the ground with, to heel the ball behind his planted left leg and nutmegging Nagi once again.
As Isagi passed him, he tagged the back of Nagi's jersey. "Later, genius."
Nagi's eyes widened, caught off guard by the unexpected motion. The moment he'd leaned in to the attack, he'd been dismantled. His instinct was exploited, and his anticipation turned against him.
Isagi exploded into space, dribbling forward with his head up and his field of vision wide. The defensive line of Team V approached fast, but he didn't slow down. Turning to the side, he saw Bachira sprinting into the half-space on the right and Kunigami cutting inside like a battering ram from behind him.
'Options, options, options. What angles should I use? Who's storyline should I conquer? There's too many people to choose from. I can't help myself anymore, I'll just devour all of you.'
He slowed his run to let Kunigami overlap him and draw the defenders off him before passing the ball in the perfect spot for his plan. It wasn't too far where the hero couldn't reach it, but it wasn't close enough to do much with it. The only choice Kunigami really had was to pass the ball back to Isagi, doing so when he spotted Isagi running towards his right.
'Part one is done. Now, look around. I can see Reo coming towards me. If my assumption is correct, he'll try to collapse the space now,' Isagi thought. 'If Nagi's already adjusting to my run, Reo's going to move in to support Nagi by stalling me. And if Reo moves in, then Zantetsu will drop back to mark Chigiri's run so he doesn't tear their line open.'
His feet moved with precision, slicing the ball diagonally as he continued his momentum down the center field.
With a smooth one two combo to Bachira, the wild and energetic teen pinged it right back into Isagi's path, curving the ball around a defender's outstretched foot.
Isagi took one touch to kill it dead in its tracks and continued to race forward. He would have made it all the way to the box if it weren't for someone stopping him.
With a cold gleam in his eyes and both feet planted firmly, Reo stood like a dam against a roaring tide. His stance was low, every part of his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.
"I'm not letting you through that easily, Isagi,"
Isagi's eyes narrowed, already flicking through simulations in his mind like a supercomputer. Looking back, he confirmed that Nagi was closing in on him, and fast.
'It's just as I suspected. They're trying to surprise with a pincer move.'
The smirk that tugged at Isagi's lips was anything but kind.
He pushed the ball slightly to the left, testing Reo's response. Reo didn't bite the bait, choosing to mirror Isagi like a living reflection.
'He's very calculative with his movements. I'm going to guess that he's a talented learner then, just like me. Well, this'll be simple to move around.'
Isagi immediately shifted right, then chopped back left with a vicious inside cut, kicking up a mist of turf. Reo staggered slightly, but caught himself, forcing Isagi into another direction change. Nagi was nearly there now, his footsteps pounding like a war drum in Isagi's ears.
'No time, gotta move fast.'
Isagi faked a heel pass backward, causing Reo to instinctively glance behind for a shadowing teammate, and in that single heartbeat, Isagi pounced.
Or rather, he vanished.
Reo's breath caught in his throat.
"Wha—?" Reo blinked, his mind trying to catch up to what his eyes had just witnessed. The phantom afterimage of Isagi's heel pass hung in the air like a bad dream, and for a moment, Reo stood frozen, stunned by the sheer audacity of the move.
But before the disbelief could settle deeper, a blur of white bolted past him like a bullet screaming across the turf.
"Thanks for stalling him, Reo. I'll handle the rest now, so push up and cover the center space for me."
Nagi's eyes locked onto Isagi's back like a predator catching scent, and he tore down the field, every step powered by the compulsion to destroy the rival that had humiliated him earlier.
Isagi sensed him immediately. The heat. The presence. That pressure.
'Looks like I wasn't able to shake off Reo fast enough. Damn, that's gonna be a bit of a dent in my plan, but it's not dead yet. Come at me Nagi, show me what you got.'
Their duel reignited like a flashfire.
Isagi angled his body low, shielding the ball with his hip, then feinted to the left. Nagi mirrored, gliding with eerie smoothness, his arms slightly outstretched, covering the distance with instinctive ease. His balance was impeccable, something Isagi noticed.
'He's not biting on basic feints anymore. He's fully adapted. Dammit, that shuts down one option for this run.'
Isagi tapped the ball forward with his left, watching as Nagi lunged half a step, just enough.
Then, he stopped dead, like a glitch in the matrix.
The sudden halt nearly tripped Nagi's rhythm.
Using that micro-stagger, Isagi spun and scooped the ball into the air with the toe of his boot, sending it into a quick, high bounce. As Nagi advanced to intercept, Isagi used the rebound as a pivot point, bringing his body around and using the inside of his opposite foot to tap the ball past Nagi in a sharp, angular drag.
Nagi extended his leg to block, but neither Isagi or the ball was there. Milliseconds later, the ball popped up between Nagi's feet in another nutmeg.
"Goddamn it!" Nagi hissed, whipping around, eyes wide with disbelief as Isagi exploded forward with the ball now dancing at his side like an obedient pet.
The two titans sprinted closer towards the box, determined to finish the play in their own way.
Not even two nutmegs could extinguish the inferno in Nagi's chest. His eyes burned with obsession, hunting Isagi down time and time again.
'I don't care how many times you get past me,' Nagi thought, adrenaline vibrating in his limbs. 'I'm going to crush you, Isagi.'
Isagi stole a glance at the approaching box. He was twenty meters out, but the space was thin, the window closing with every heartbeat.
'There's no time to set up a Hitman's Sniper Shot, I need to keep him off rhythm and break his timing.'
He chopped the ball with the outside of his left foot, cutting it at an angle into the open lane, but Nagi mirrored him again, fluid and tireless. His instincts came back in full force, even greater than it was earlier.
'He's starting to sync with me,' Isagi realized. 'Like he's dancing on the edge of my movements. He's using my own rhythm to find the gaps. But if that's the case—'
Suddenly, Isagi stopped.
Cold.
A full-body halt.
Nagi couldn't react in time.
His momentum carried him half a step too far forward, and that was all Isagi needed.
In one breathless second, Isagi flicked the ball with the sole of his boot, pivoted off his plant foot, and spun behind Nagi, ghosting past his left with a seamless pirouette.
"Again?!"
He went after him, faster than before.
The genius was fully awake now.
This had never been about Reo or the team, but in this moment Nagi locked them off from his mind completely. This wasn't a mere matter of the team anymore, it was about reclaiming his stolen pride and asserting his dominance on the ace of team Z
The ball skittered along the turf with Isagi in full control, and as he neared the edge of the box, Nagi lunged again. He stretched out with an elastic stretch, trying to sweep the ball out from under Isagi's control.
Isagi already expected it. He let Nagi overextend, dragged the ball back once more in another V-drag, and spun with his body to box Nagi out again, switching his direction to the right this time. The ball slipped forward into space, the perfect amount of space for Isagi to shoot. He twisted his torso and reared his leg back, but as he fired, something unexpected happened.
Nagi didn't try to recover and reposition.
This time, Nagi pounced.
He wrapped his body into a challenge, arms tucked in to prevent a foul from being called, and threw himself into a shoulder to shoulder battle, slamming his weight into Isagi.
The contact did its job and caused the striker to stumble, but it was too weak to make him fall. Isagi clenched his jaw and flexed his core, summoning every ounce of strength he had to slam his foot into the ball.
BOOM.
The shot tore through the air like a sniper's bullet, low and deadly, slicing through defenders who dove to intercept.
It was headed straight for the far post. Isagi sighed. He knew exactly what was going to happen before it even finished its course.
It was a wicked shot, struck with clean precision, biting into the air with a tight spin as the ball spun with lethal intent. It bent its path toward the edge of perfection, dancing inches from the inside of the goalpost.
The goalkeeper launched himself, body extended like a drawn bow, fingers stretched to their limit. He wasn't fast enough. The ball flew past him untouched.
All of team V watched in dread as the ball went straight for the goal.
Only for it to miss. It crashed against the outside of the post with a sharp, hollow ring, before ricocheting violently out of bounds and smacking the wall beyond the white line. The net stood untouched. They were saved from the devastation of Isagi Yoichi by their strongest player, Nagi Seishiro.
Isagi didn't move.
He simply stared, calm and unflinching, eyes trained on the post where the ball had struck. His body remained poised in the posture of a finisher, his foot still slightly hovering off the turf. His posture was steady, no signs of frustration or confusion anywhere on him.
Yes, the moment he connected with the ball, he knew he was going to miss. He recovered from Nagi's surprise tackle too late to make his shot perfect, which resulted in this.
A collective breath escaped from Team V's side of the field. A staggered, uneven exhale full of extreme amounts of relief.
"Holy crap…" murmured Zantetsu, hands on his knees, eyes still locked on the ball rolling slowly along the turf beyond the post. "I thought that was it…"
Reo slumped slightly, sweat dripping from his chin. "That was way too close…"
Zurobi, the keeper, dragged himself back up from the ground, a mixture of relief and frustration flashing across his face. "I was so lucky that his shot missed. I would have been done for if he scored again…" he muttered under his breath, glancing at the post as if silently thanking it for saving his pride.
Their formation shuffled uncertainly, players shouting across to one another, still in a mild state of disbelief that they hadn't just been scored on.
Amid the murmurs and gasps, Nagi rose to his feet with a silent push. His expression was unreadable, as cool as ever, but with a flicker of deadly frustration was simmering just behind those gray eyes of his.
Reo jogged up beside him, grinning in relief, reaching out to clap him on the back. "Yo! That was sick, Nagi! You got in his head, huh? That defense, that pressure, you totally threw him off!"
But Nagi didn't look at him.
He didn't even acknowledge the praise.
His eyes remained fixed on Isagi's retreating figure as he walked calmly back toward midfield. The hum in his limbs still hadn't faded. That shot, every little feint and movement from Isagi that built up to it was carved into his mind like a tattoo.
He didn't feel victorious. Not even close.
That wasn't a win at all.
'I still haven't caught up to him…' he thought, brushing Reo's hand off gently as he passed him. 'He's growing, evolving with every second we play. And I'm just chasing him from way behind. I got lucky that I was able to stop him from scoring, but there's no telling how that could go if that happens again.'
The whistle shrilled once.
Goal kick.
Zurobi Kurobi, Team V's keeper, placed the ball carefully on the edge of the six-yard box. His fingers lingered for just a second longer than usual, still reeling from how close the ball had skimmed the post. He couldn't get it out of his head. A few centimeters inward, and that would've been it.
With a deep breath, he stepped back and launched a low, driven pass straight up the centerline.
It cut through the field like a blade, heading for Reo Mikage, who drifted into the space just in front of the center circle. Reo's first touch was clean, elegant even, as his body glided over the ball with his usual poised confidence. He didn't hold onto it for long.
A swift glance to his right, and he flicked it sharply out wide with the outside of his foot. "Nagi, take it."
Nagi appeared out of nowhere, seamlessly flowing into the open space, almost as if he'd been there all along. His stride was calculated, deceptively slow. coasting down the wing. But the moment his eyes met the ball, he shifted gears. The air around him tightened as he charged with growing intensity.
Isagi was there to match him, accelerating past the Nagi with superior speed. The black phantom was always a step ahead of the white reaper when it came to reading the field, but this time Nagi couldn't allow his rival to win.
His ego was screaming at him to win and take over. His instincts and body overpowered his mind before he realized it.
He zeroed in on the ball and dove feet first, catching it with the lace of his foot. The ball rolled cleanly off his foot as he executed a rapid, fluid spin, using the momentum of his motion to flick the ball up into the air, just enough to get it past Isagi's outstretched leg. The black-haired striker made a quick lunge, but the ball was already beyond him. Nagi didn't stop there. His hands hit the ground, bracing him as he twisted his body, using the rotation to push himself back up onto his feet with a smooth, seamless motion.
It was a move born from pure instinct, a play that Nagi hadn't consciously planned, only that he could only react to in the heat of the moment. His heart was pounding in his chest as the realization of what he'd just done hit him. The fluidity of the action, the raw, unfiltered power behind it, it was the kind of play that would've made any soccer fan drop their jaw in awe.
Nagi couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as he glanced at Isagi. The look on his rival's face was priceless: eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped, caught completely off guard by the sheer audacity and brilliance of the move. For a split second, it felt like he had truly succeeded in surpassing Isagi.
But Nagi didn't dwell on it. He couldn't. The game was still in motion, and there was no time for smugness, no time for pride. His heart was already set on one thing: winning. And in that moment, as he broke free from Isagi's defense, Nagi knew he left his mark.
Isagi shook his awe away seconds later, cursing to himself as he sprinted back to Nagi. He made a mental note of Chigiri being the one waiting at center field, filing the information away in case there was the need for a counter. That left Kunigami to fill in for the speedster, which opened up more opportunities for a clearance.
Reo held the ball at his feet for a few moments, his gaze flickering between his teammates and the tightly knit defense of Team Z. His eyes glimmered with focus, knowing that patience was the key here. He juked to the left, a swift motion that sent Raichi stumbling to his side, throwing the defender off balance for just a second. That was enough for Reo to get past him.
Reo then confronted Bachira, who, as always, was eager to close down the space with his unpredictable movements. Reo's touch was smooth, every step a seemingly constant ebb and flow of feints and control. With one flick, he pushed the ball to the right, only to pull it back with a deceptive pause, leaving Bachira to misjudge his next move. The space between them grew wider, just enough for Reo to slide the ball between his teammates and keep the pressure on.
The ball pinged around, from Nagi to Reo, then to Hisoka on the edge, before finding its way back to Reo's feet. Each of team V's passes were like strings pulling at team Z's defense, making it harder and harder for them to maintain their tight formation.
Team Z's defense began to buckle under the constant shifting of the ball, the confusion mounting as each player adjusted to the changing angles and passes. Isagi was the only one not caught in a dilemma, a majority of his teammate's eyes were darting all over the place in order to try and anticipate the next play.
Closer to the penalty box, Kuon, Igarashi, and Iemon stood firm, forming a barrier on the right side of the field, waiting for the inevitable attack. They had already shifted their positioning, anticipating that all the action would soon converge there. The trio held their ground, their movements calculated and synchronized, a defensive wall trying to stifle the offensive surge coming their way. Naruhaya was tucked behind, ready to use his off the ball movement to slink into the fray and steal the ball himself
Igarashi tracked Reo's every movement, his eyes never leaving the ball, his body tense with readiness. But even he knew that Reo's playstyle was an unpredictable one, a mixture of finesse and sudden bursts of aggression. It wasn't enough to simply block his path; you had to read him, catch the subtle cues before he executed the next move. That's where Kuon came in. If the Malicia didn't succeed in turning over the ball, the second strategist of team Z was holding his position on the far right, prepared to close down any quick drives past the monk.
But that meant the space on the left was still wide open, and Reo sensed the growing opportunity. He wasn't just passing the ball to confuse Team Z's defense; he was setting the stage for something much bigger. The pressure was mounting. Reo's passes were starting to tighten the noose, creating gaps in Team Z's formation. A final pass was coming. It was only a matter of time before one of those gaps turned into a moment of brilliance.
Nagi, already positioned to explode into the box at the right moment, stayed patient, biding his time to strike like a predator waiting for its prey to come closer. He could see the flickers of opportunity beginning to appear. He wouldn't be caught off guard again. Nagi could feel the pressure building, the ego inside him urging him forward, and the instinct to strike coursing through him.
Reo held the ball steady for one more second, his body poised to make a decision. His face remained unreadable, but deep inside, he was enjoying the game. Every pass was a brushstroke, every move a piece of a puzzle slowly falling into place. It was all leading up to one thing: a breakthrough.
And then, in a fluid motion, Reo sprinted into the open space left of Igarashi. He moved quick, drawing the defense towards him, before passing the ball out wide to his sacred treasure.
Nagi exploded into action the moment he saw the pass. The ball was perfectly positioned in front of him. His eyes narrowed, analyzing Isagi, who was standing between him and the goal, waiting. Nagi's mind raced, his instincts on full alert, but he didn't rush it. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. The two rivals were locked in a standoff, feeling the brunt of the battle heat from each other, trying to predict the other's next move.
He shifted his weight slightly, feinting to the left, trying to draw Isagi off balance. Isagi didn't bite on the movement, maintaining his ground. Nagi, recognizing that his quick ploy failed, adapted quickly. He cut back the other way, attempting to get the ball past him, but Isagi's foot was there, blocking the path.
Nagi didn't panic. He wasn't about to take a low-percentage shot when the defense was still solid. Instead, with an almost imperceptible flick of his foot, he passed the ball back to Inasa, keeping the flow alive.
He didn't hold any frustration from the stop of his attack. The game was moving fast for everyone on the pitch, and every moment counted. The constant rhythm of soccer, the pulse of the game, demanded constant focus. There was no time for smugness, no time to try any stupidly risky plays. His heart was still set on one thing: winning against Isagi.
As he passed the ball back, Nagi's eyes quickly shifted toward Isagi, noting his movement and preparing for the next shift. He knew the game was far from over. He wasn't done yet.
When Nagi began his sprint toward the far side of the field, he could feel the subtle pull of his instincts urging him to push harder and keep the pressure up.
As he darted behind Naruhaya, who was visibly struggling to match the high speed tempo that Nagi and Isagi had set, Nagi's focus sharpened. He'd pulled Isagi far enough out of position, allowing the positionally recovered Reo some space to move. Nagi trusted Reo to do what he did best: be calm under pressure and calculate the best play for him to score.
With the calm precision of a seasoned tactician, Reo reanalyzed the rapidly changing scene. The chaos in Team Z's defense, their weight tilted to one side, players scrambling to rotate back, opened up space on the wing. He locked eyes with his friend, but instead of playing it to Nagi, who had been drawing in pressure like a magnet, Reo turned his eyes to his left side, the near wing.
There, like a train taking off from the station, Zantetsu ran into the open space.
Without hesitation, Reo fired a sharp pass that timed immaculately with Zantetsu's run. The moment the ball touched Zantetsu's feet, he increased his acceleration down the touchline like a missile fired at full thrust. His acceleration was terrifying, a blur of speed and raw athleticism that tore through the remaining space.
Nagi, now tracking the play from within the box, backtracked to the top of the box. He didn't need to be the one with the ball. Not this time. What mattered more was team V's constant barrage of movements. They held the advantage right now — their strategic, rapid fire offensive pressuring on the defense slowly collapsing Team Z's shape. The further they degraded team Z's ironclad defense, the better chances Nagi had of making himself a deadly option if the ball came back his way.
Zantetsu charged forward, his strides rhythmic and violent, eating up ground like a sprinter breaking through the final stretch. Kuon and Igarashi adjusted their positions, but the delay in their rotation had already cost them. A sliver of space opened in the box: small but incredibly dangerous.
Reo trailed behind the play at a distance, watching with the eyes of a chessmaster. He saw how the pressure Nagi had created just moments earlier caused their most pivotal player to remove himself from the defending act, leaving the ace striker no choice but to watch helplessly as Team Z's defenders struggled to collapse on Zantetsu's run, creating opportunities elsewhere.
Finding the route he wanted, Zantetsu exploded back into motion, becoming an arrow let loose from a taut bow. His acceleration was blinding, cutting through the defensive line with ruthless intent. As Igarashi lunged in an attempt to intercept, Zantetsu chipped the ball just inches over the outstretched foot, then vaulted above it in a single fluid leap. The execution was as sharp as it was poetic, momentum and finesse in perfect balance.
But before he could even exhale, Kuon loomed ahead like a wall of pure mass, fully prepared to draw a foul if it meant stalling the play. His body leaned forward, arms braced, ready to take the hit. He sorely underestimated the human bullet train's deceleration ability.
With heavy steps, Zantetsu slammed on the brakes, his cleats skidding slightly across the turf everytime he dug into them. His hips twisted, and with a sharp sidestep, he veered around Kuon's attempt to bait a foul, dodging the trap at the very last second. But it came at a cost, his control over the ball wavered.
He didn't panic.
Just before his momentum fully carried him out of the danger zone, Zantetsu let his body do the thinking. With the outside of his right foot, he swiped at the ball, sending it spinning toward the top of the penalty arc with just enough pace to evade interception.
Right into the zone Reo had been ghosting into.
Reo was already mid-stride as the ball rolled into his path, eyes locked on it like a kid would with candy. The entire play hadn't unfolded the way he imagined it to, but it was still workable. Nagi drew away the defense. Zantetsu forced the break. Now all that was left was to strike.
The field narrowed. Gagamaru's eyes darted between the ball and Reo, his massive frame ready to spring. He adjusted his stance, using his instincts to help him decipher the angle of the shot before it even left Reo's foot. Team Z's defenders, still off-balance from Zantetsu's break, scrambled to rotate, but none were close enough. There wasn't enough time.
Reo, standing at the top of the box, had it. The cleanest look on goal. No pressure. No obstacles. Just him and the net.
He planted his left foot and wound up his right—
"You really thought I was going to let you have that, Mikage? Think again."
The voice struck first. Then the shadow arrived.
Like a phantom slipping through the seams of the game, Isagi emerged from the chaos, perfectly synced with the beat of the match. His previously ghost-like presence was gone now that he was in the open, replaced with the domineering weight that he had originally brought. And now, as if materializing from the very air, Isagi exploded into the space Reo thought was his.
Reo's breath caught in his throat. One second he was alone with destiny, the next Isagi's foot crashed into his shot mid-swing, redirecting the ball into an awkward spiral toward the sideline.
"What—?!" Reo's eyes widened. "Where the hell were you?!"
"I was right where you wouldn't look," Isagi replied calmly, already pivoting to chase the loose ball. "You relied too much on your teammates and forgot who you were up against."
Reo clenched his jaw, trying to contain the mix of shock and frustration burning in his chest. That was his shot to make, only for it to be stolen by Ego's personal masterpiece.
The ball skipped out of bounds. It was Team V's throw-in.
Hisoka jogged over, picking the ball up with hands with calm hands. Without waiting long, he scanned the field and saw his target, Inasa, drifting into a pocket of space near the touchline. In an overhead motion, Hisoka hurled the ball in.
Inasa caught it cleanly on the drop. Kira came rushing in to try and steal the ball, but a quick sidestep bought him an extra second, and he rotated his hips to shift the play inward.
Reo moved into position, receiving Inasa's pass and immediately redirecting it out wide to the other end where Zantetsu was, who had circled back from run into the penalty box. Team V had shifted tactics now, switching from their rapid fire offensive barrage into a more smooth, rhythmical passing style to drag the defense open pockets of space within their formation.
Team Z's defense shuffled with them. Raichi barked out adjustments, trying to keep the lines tight, while Kuon and Iemon readjusted their spacing, wary of another sudden tempo shift.
Zantetsu pushed forward a few steps, then reversed and sent the ball back to Reo, who let it roll across his body before tapping it over to Nagi near the top right corner of the midfield. The white-haired prodigy didn't try anything flashy this time. Instead, he slowed the tempo, baiting Isagi with a little step before sending the ball right back to Reo.
It was a patient build-up. They were waiting for the best moment to strike, patiently sitting in order to choke team Z.
Reo's movements were smooth, but his eyes still held a flicker of frustration. The last sequence still haunted the edges of his mind. He still didn't understand how Isagi was able to stop his shot, in fact he hadn't been able to understand Isagi at all.
He didn't know how the guy was able to appear from one spot to another, nor was he able to comprehend how the raven headed striker was able to blend with the crowd so magnificently even though he was the strongest of them all, not to mention carried the biggest amount of aura. Isagi should have been the first guy he saw in the crowd, yet Reo's brain didn't even register its existence.
And that's what pissed Reo off the most.
Because Reo prided himself on being the glue of the team, he prided himself on being the strategist who saw the whole board. But this guy, this so-called legitimate phantom of team Z, was playing an entirely different game. One that Reo couldn't seem to crack.
He bit the inside of his cheek, masking the irritation with a small exhale as he cycled the ball back to Inasa, who returned it with a crisp one-touch pass.
Nagi ghosted into the half-space between Raichi and Kuon, receiving the ball on his back foot. His first touch was feather-light, an effortless move for someone like the treasure.
Reo felt it again, that sensation of oppressiveness. It hadn't diminished in any way since the beginning of the game, yet he felt that it held nothing in comparison to the pure force this one brought. It was like a string tightening around them.
Across from Nagi, Isagi adjusted his position by a single step. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to shift the angle, just enough to predict every probable location the ball could go next. His mind was running at full speed, burning with possibility.
They weren't even touching the ball, and yet the duel raged on.
Reo forced himself to focus. This wasn't the time to be chasing ghosts. Team V was still in control. Still dictating the tempo. He looped around behind Nagi for support, offering a quick outlet.
But Nagi didn't pass. He didn't want Reo to help him with this.
Instead, he turned. Slowly. Testing. Baiting Isagi to make the first move.
And for a second, the entire match seemed to slow down.
Reo watched them. The two of them. Locked in again.
Ego vs Ego.
He couldn't hear anything but his heartbeat. Couldn't feel anything but the weight of being left behind.
And yet, he couldn't look away.
Nagi started first.
Chipping the ball, he let it hover inches from his foot, and with one gentle touch, he tamed it as if gravity itself bowed to his command. The space around him tightened with tension, but Nagi didn't flinch.
Even though they were near team Z's goal, his ego wouldn't allow him to just get open and shoot. This confrontation he had with Isagi was the exact thing he wanted to go through, his desire to beat Isagi and score with his own goal was too enthralling of an ambition.
Isagi watched him like a hawk, his body angled low and centered, ready to explode at the first opening. But he didn't rush in. That was what made him dangerous, he was patient. He waited and read, analyzed and broke down every bit of data he could gleam off someone, and reaped the rewards of it. 'If I want to break through him, I'll need to do things that can't be calculated. Just go with the flow of my body and do what I feel like is best, I can do that.'
Nagi took a slow step forward, rolling the ball with the sole of his foot. His movements were almost relaxed, but Isagi didn't fall for the disguise. The moment Nagi's toes curled around the ball, dragging it into a sharp outward sweep, Isagi closed in.
Nagi caught the ball mid-motion with surgical grace, his foot absorbing the momentum as if time bent to his will. Without hesitation, he cut inside, sharp and fluid like a blade drawn in silence.
But Isagi was already there.
He had already calculated a possibility of the genius doing this, so he used his info to mirror Nagi's movement, sliding back in front of him as though the phantom was a shadow.
Nagi's brow twitched. Switching up the tempo, he dashed towards the right, getting Isagi to chase him. He chipped the ball up and ignored the outstretched foot of Naruhaya, before trapping the ball back to him with the outside part of his boot.
Isagi didn't attempt to commit, watching as Nagi continued to maneuver himself. The genius brought the ball to his left side, kneeing the ball high in an arc, getting it behind his rival. Isagi jumped back with his eyes on the ball, perfectly adjusting himself to the moment when Nagi would break into a dash for the inside.
'Damn, I thought I had it with that one. You're seriously cool, Isagi.' Nagi thought, feeling frustration simmer under his cool exterior.
But instead of breaking, Nagi layered another trick onto his rhythm, a juggling tap. He used his heel to bring the ball back in front of him and angled himself to shoot, raising his left leg up to sell his fake. Isagi didn't over commit to it, side stepping into its supposed path with his hands behind his back. Knowing he was busted on it, he faked the shot and bounced the ball on his outside, then did a delayed bounce off his thigh to reset his spacing.
Isagi's eyes never left the ball, but he wasn't chasing it, shifting himself with every movement to adapt to every opening available.
Yet no matter how many times Isagi cut off his angles or reappeared in front of him like some phantom wall, Nagi never lost the ball.
His genius wouldn't let him.
Every trap, every flick, every flicker of creativity, Nagi adapted on the fly. Where others would've panicked or passed, Nagi elevated. He trapped the ball mid-deflection with the inside of his foot like it was routine, spun on the axis of his planted leg, and danced around Isagi's pressure with elegant chaos.
This time, he had a better shooting angle. With the ball still in the air, he nudged it forward with his thigh and leapt to shoot, angling himself slightly for a scissor kick. This time, Isagi did commit, raising his foot up to contest the shot.
With all the precision and power the white reaper could summon, Nagi slammed the ball into the turf, an unorthodox bounce-pass to himself through Isagi's legs at a wicked diagonal. The ball ricocheted low and fast, cutting under Isagi like a mouse slipping through the cracks, then spun upward into the air in a slow, descending arc.
Upon landing, Nagi didn't wait. He shot off the ground like a missile, his body crouched low, angled like a predator closing in for the final strike. The rush of wind scraped past his ears as he sprinted beside the black phantom, his eyes locked on the ball's descent.
It was falling, perfectly within reach.
His heartbeat surged with something he hadn't felt in a long time. Excitement. Not just for the play, but for what it meant. He'd finally broken through. Finally left his mark on the man who haunted his every touch and read.
'I did it. I beat Isagi.'
The moment was here.
As the ball dropped into his strike zone, Nagi pulled back his leg, teeth clenched, muscles coiled, ready to finish what he started.
But just before he swung—
A chill.
A presence.
A flicker of shadow to his right.
"Did you really think I'd let you do that?"
In a breathtaking display of reflex and raw athleticism, Isagi brought his raised foot crashing down, pivoting with a coiled burst of torque. With a full-body twist fueled by ego and accuracy, he unleashed a reverse roundhouse kick, his heel cutting through the air like a blade. It slammed into the ball just as Nagi reached for it, launching it away with a violent crack of contact.
The ball shot like a cannon toward the edge of the box, veering with surgical precision toward the sideline. And there, at the exact right place at the exact right time, stood Naruhaya.
The impact was instant and merciless. The ball buried itself into Naruhaya's stomach with the sound of a gunshot wrapped in a slap. His eyes went wide, all thought and breath driven clean from his body as he doubled over like a folding chair mid-collapse.
In other words, he was blessed with the Imamura special.
"I told you, Nagi. It's going to take a hell of a lot more than that to get by me." Isagi stared directly into Nagi's silver eyes, a slow smirk curled onto his face. "You got too complacent at the end. Thinking that just because you got behind me, you beat me, is foolish. You forgot who you were dealing with."
Nagi's brows furrowed, the faintest twitch in his jaw betraying the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. He wasn't used to failing, especially when he kept getting beaten over and over again. But as much as he hated to admit it, no matter how bad the blow to his pride this admission was, Nagi knew that his opponent was right.
"Tch… shut up. In the end I'm still the one who's going to win."
"Heh. Try it as many times as you like, genius. I'm not going anywhere."