Twist of Fate
With only two more days before Real Madrid face AS Roma in the Champions League group stage match, Kaiser has decided to accompany Modrić to watch a match between the Real Madrid U-20 academy versus the Atlético Madrid U-20 academy.
Kaiser:
I had been the one to advise Modrić that there was a player he should keep his eye on, someone who would be a great trainee to have under his wing, someone who could replace him next year before he retires.
But as fate would have other plans for me.
The sun is at its peak in the middle of the day, hanging heavy in the sky, and the stands are mostly empty. Only a few scouts sit scattered around with clipboards in hand, quietly writing notes. I have dark-tinted sunglasses on, sitting beside Modrić, both of us blending in more so we don't draw too much attention. We share a brief look as we scan the teams warming up, and honestly, there is not much—if anything—outstanding at first glance. It's mostly standard academy-level players, technically sound but predictable.
Until Sae gets the ball.
Match POV
Itoshi Sae touches the ball and follows through, moving upfield with light, fast touches. Each step looks effortless, controlled, and sharp. He looks up and immediately sees players from Atlético rushing toward him, closing space aggressively. His eyes shift, and as if a switch flips, his play reaches a new level. His dribbling cuts through the players with a clean left tap, then a flick up and out with the knee, nutmegging a defender who thought he had caught Sae's blind spot.
But before Sae can fully get into position, Atlético's formation shifts. The spacing tightens unnaturally fast, and suddenly Sae is circled. His nearby passing lanes are reduced, his teammates pinned as well, their movement restricted just enough to be useless. It forces Sae into taking a risk, committing to a solo charge.
Sae shifts his body, dipping his shoulders from side to side to shake off his marker. Then, with a Cruyff turn, he nutmegs the player behind him and moves forward, his eyes glowing a bright, vibrant pink.
Beautiful Destruction flow..
His eyes turn black only the pink glow of his irises remain, and many numbers flash through his aura almost as if ,it is a manifestation of his complete immersion in calculated dominance.
Transitions into a knee trap to then lower his body and place his shin on the ball, and use a sunset double rain bow flick up .
Which confuses the player to his side.. and gets over the shoulders of the midfielder, in front of him allowing Sae rotates in that same moment ,and step out with a Knee with a 180 degrees turn .
With his first contact on the ball moving instinctively with a rebona nutmeg, through the legs of a defender with an out stretched leg.
Then quickly running behind him to do an extra touch on the ball to maintain speed.
Then—before Sae can properly control his extended touch—a player emerges from behind a defender. He steps in cleanly and takes the ball.
The Atlético player wears the number 10 jersey, the name Pirlo printed across his back. His features finally come into view: platinum blonde hair with light orange highlights, pale eyelashes, and striking orange, gold-ish eyes that seem almost unnatural under the sunlight.
Then he speaks.
Pirlo:
"Catenaccio Haven."
The atmosphere on the field shifts instantly. It almost feels like someone else has started playing through him.
With quick, elegant step-overs, he gets past Sae and places a hand on Sae's chest to hold him back. He uses that same hand as an axis point, turning left and forcing one of Sae's teammates to block off Sae's path unintentionally.
Pirlo moves forward like a daredevil, no fear in his body language as he charges into the defensive line. He flicks the ball up and lifts it with his knee, turning it into a smooth shoulder pass toward the now-open wing.
An Atlético player receives it and rushes forward, cutting inside. This forces the left back and center back to close in tightly to shut down his shooting lane—but that was the bait.
Pirlo cuts through the blind spot of a midfielder, using him as cover, slipping in from behind to receive a perfectly timed backheel pass from the winger. This movement allows Pirlo to get past the left back completely unchallenged. Then, with a sharp step-over chop into the left side of the box, he strikes the ball fast.
The ball sails through the air.
The Real Madrid goalkeeper sprints toward the far right post, diving at full extension to tip the shot away from the top corner—but something unexpected happens. The ball crashes into the crossbar instead, ringing through the stadium, and rebounds downward.
Straight into the feet of Atlético's center forward.
Already mid-air, he connects cleanly with a bicycle kick, smashing the ball into the left side netting.
Goal..
Pirlo:
"Destiny's message."
Kaiser POV
It was instinct, pure instinct—but I knew exactly where my eyes should be on the pitch. Still, it was more than that, almost like I felt a familiar connection I couldn't fully understand.
Nevertheless, I activated Flawless Eye on Atlético's number 10, Pirlo—and I was not disappointed.
The way he moved on the field was abnormal. From the flood of information coming in, from the positioning of the Atlético players, I could tell immediately: Pirlo was the game master here. He was controlling the formation, making it look disorganized, almost sloppy, letting Sae believe they were easy prey.
Then I saw it—his eyes flashing gold.
That caught my attention.
As Pirlo moved in, he used the cover of his own players perfectly. Sae didn't even see it coming. Pirlo was using his teammates as moving shields to counter Sae's Meta Vision, slipping into blind spots repeatedly, taking advantage of every moment Sae looked away. It was almost like he was playing red light, green light , like the show from my passed life .freezing and moving at the exact moments Sae couldn't track.
Finally, he took the ball from Sae when Sae got too comfortable with his last extended touch. With his body weight alone, Pirlo instantly stopped Sae's momentum, then used that same hand to change direction. It looked like Sae crashed into his own teammate, completely stopping his pursuit.
And even deeper in Real Madrid's defensive half, Pirlo used the same dribbling philosophy to set everything up. It almost felt like Kaká—the way the ball stayed glued to his feet, even at high speed, never drifting more than a breath away.
Then my eyes picked up on something else.
Almost like a premonition.
When the winger delivered that backheel pass, I already knew what was coming. But when Pirlo shot, I knew the trajectory instantly. I wasn't surprised—just amused. A smirk formed on my face as the moment rang painfully close to home.
That shot… it was just like my Rebirth Impact, but turned into a pass.
The miss wasn't a mistake—it was an invitation. The ball hitting the crossbar created the perfect timing window, giving the center forward more than enough time to set up the bicycle kick, using the illusion of Pirlo's "miss" as cover.
I really need to talk with that kid.
And I'm definitely getting his number after this game.
Modric:
"That Japanese kid, Itoshi, right?"
I turn to Modrić and understand that I had almost forgotten all about Sae—well, *forgotten* would be the wrong word. It's more like his presence has taken a back seat in my mind, pushed aside by something far louder and more disruptive.
Kaiser:
"Yes, that's him. Japan's treasure."
I lift my hand to sip my cup of coffee, the heat faint against my palm, as I watch the contemplative expression settle onto Modrić's face. His eyes narrow slightly, following Sae's movement on the pitch with growing interest.
Modric:
"He would be perfect. He is currently unrefined, but I can already see what he can become."
He pauses, almost deliberately, as if waiting for my judgment as well—testing whether my opinion aligns with his own.
Kaiser:
"Sae will work well with Silva and Luna, as the offensive and defensive coordinator."
His gaze leaves the field and stays locked on me, sharp and searching.
Modric:
"Do you have a game plan to deal with Dybala? Unlike his older brother, he is even more of a prodigy."
My expressionless face remains unchanged as I answer his question, my line of sight never leaving Pirlo on the field.
Kaiser:
"Well, it all depends on how far into the future he can see me. And I will know on that day whether or not he will be the one I use to show the world, that I have reached the level of the masters… and that Noa's days are numbered."
Modrić chuckles at first, but he quickly notices the weight behind my tone and the stillness in my face. The humor fades as he realizes I meant every word.
Match POV
Sae has the ball again, moving in with speed, cutting through spaces with his hyper-speed half step-over into a rabona nutmeg —his signature move. The bright pink glow flares around his eyes, his calm, almost emotionless expression never changing.
He drags the ball back with speed from right to left, then lifts it with his left foot in a rabona-like position. His torso turns left in an opposite backward rotation, allowing him to strike the ball again with his right foot for an advanced sombrero flick. With a small leap into the air, after moving past the player he flicked it over, he traps the ball with a clean Neymar touch.
He looks forward.
Only Pirlo stands in his path.
The two face each other, perfectly aligned, the space between them charged and silent—a 1v1 clash waiting to ignite.
Pirlo:
"Not bad, you come from far lands."
Sae ignores him and moves forward, but Pirlo stretches out his arm, blocking Sae and making contact with his chest with a placed flat palm. Sae grips Pirlo's wrist instinctively, using it for leverage.
Sae:
"Not bad. I guess last time was not a fluke."
Many hyper fast faints with the ball, but Pirlo is not taking the bait.
Pirlo:
"What do those calculations of yours say about me?"
Pirlo reaches for the ball, and Sae uses that instant to nutmeg him—but Pirlo was counting on it. He taps the ball back with his rear leg, letting it fall toward Sae, only for Pirlo to chip it with his forward-planted foot before Sae could gain contact .
Pirlo counters immediately.
Sae responds with a knee Akka, only for Pirlo to rotate mid-motion and strike the ball out of the air with the back of his left shoulder. In that instant, Sae's eyes flash. He runs backward three steps, then lifts his leg for a scorpion kick.
Pirlo leaps into the air, copying Sae's movement perfectly, traps the ball with a Neymar touch, and on the descent angles his body and strikes the ball with his knee, sending a sharp pass to the left.
Pirlo:
"I steal that from you. Let's send a message to the world with this."
Sae stops dead in his tracks. He turns to look at Pirlo's back as the glow fades from his eyes, his aura dissolving into the air.
Sae:
"The world is truly vast… I wonder how you're back home , hopefully your trying to keep up Rin-chan."
He says it softly to himself, a small smile forming.
Sae:
"It's decided. I will help you become the best striker in the world… to crush all these geniuses."
Pirlo glances toward the stands.
Pirlo:
"I can tell our paths will cross again. And who is that guy in the stands staring at my every movement like a hawk?"
In that moment, the gazes of Kaiser and Pirlo meet.
Neither speaks, yet both feel something they can't explain—pressure, recognition, a fated destiny—passing through their eyes alone.
Pirlo flicks the ball upward with a 360 rainbow flick, and the instant his first foot touches the ground, his muscles release their full explosive force. He launches into the air, the defensive line of Real Madrid the only thing left between him and goal.
A defender jumps to block the shot.
Pirlo smirks.
Pirlo:
"They always fall for phase one. Now it's time to end it."
His eyes glow bright gold and white wings come forth his back with falling feathers manifested ,as it feels like the suns ray from the heavens is shining a spotlight on Pirlo. His left leg lifts, using the momentum to raise the ball even higher with his knee as he hits the ball with it , positioning it above the defender's shoulder. At the same time, he leans back his position now ..almost as if he is floating with a sarine visage , his right leg swinging over his shoulder as his body twists violently, unleashing the full force of his right foot into a strangely angled volley.
Pirlo:
"Heavens Shot: New Dawn."
Woosh..
The ball tears through the air as if the wind itself is guiding it, swerving in massive arcs from the lower corner, slipping through the legs of a center back at full speed, and curling violently into the top right corner. The goalkeeper, caught off-guard by the nutmeg and confuseing trajectory of the ball, he reacts too late as the ball slams into the net.
Goal..
Modric:
"That shot…!"
A small smile forms on my face, subtle but unmistakable.
Kaiser:
"Yeah… he's the real deal. But Sae—we'll need him to go against future prodigies like that Pirlo."
Near the last three minutes of the match, I walked down the stands toward the entrance walkway for the players and stood there, positioning myself to get a close-up view of Pirlo. The final whistle was announced soon after.
Angelo Pirlo scores a hat-trick..
Atlético Madrid Youth Academy wins 3–1 against Real Madrid Youth Academy.
And just like that, the U-20 match came to an end.
I walked back toward the stands as the Real Madrid youth coach gathered the boys inside the locker room, his voice echoing faintly through the walls. I waited for Modrić to open the door first, and with the soft *click* of the handle, the noise inside—the talking, the movement, the lingering frustration—went completely silent.
Then their coach began to speak.
U-20 Coach:
"As you may know, many scouts were watching today's match."
The noise and quiet chatter picked up slightly after that statement, whispers passing between players.
U-20 Coach:
"But we also had someone come from the senior team as well."
He gestured toward Modrić as he stepped aside. Modrić removed his glasses, and shocked gasps echoed throughout the room.
Modric:
"I have come because of a recommendation. But I was not sure if they were worthy of being a good candidate or not, so I had to see for myself."
The players immediately quieted down, all eyes locked onto him.
Modric:
"You over there—Itoshi, right?"
Sae's eyes flashed with restrained emotion. Expectation, excitement, and relief all collided within him, as if years of effort had finally reached their moment.
Sae:
"So, you say you're looking for a worthy candidate… what for?"
A slight smirk crawled onto Modrić's face as he noticed how calm Sae remained, even in a situation like this. And at that moment, I walked in and took off my glasses.
Kaiser:
"Stop messing around. I'm the one who recommended Sae… he'll be a perfect fit."
I turned to walk out, not intending to linger—but Sae spoke up. There was a small light in his eyes, one that looked like it hadn't been lit in a long time.
Hope.
A dream resurfacing.
Sae:
"Why me?"
Kaiser:
"Don't get ahead of yourself yet. I picked you for a sole purpose."
Sae:
"And what might that be?"
I chuckled softly.
Kaiser:
"To help me become a football god."
I continued walking out, leaving him behind with lingering thoughts, while Modrić stayed to hand over the paperwork. I made my way toward Atlético's locker room, finding the door open, but something stopped me. I placed my palm against the wall, instinctively knowing where to go.
I turned and continued walking, descending the walkway stairs onto the field.
And there—standing alone under the fading stadium lights—I saw him.
Angelo Pirlo..
Pirlo:
"Is stalking people your hobby?"
Kaiser:
"No. I'm just here signing autographs for fans."
Pirlo turned, finally getting a clear look at the person who had been watching him all game from the stands. Shock washed over his face the moment he recognized me.
Pirlo:
"No way! You're Kaiser… the Rose Emperor. Well—now they say Sky Emperor."
Kaiser:
"Yeah. Well, I could say the same for you."
I noticed his long platinum blonde hair, similar to mine, but tipped with orange highlights. Loose strands framed the bridge of his nose, paired with long lashes and light golden-orange eyes that reflected the stadium lights.
Pirlo:
"What do you mean, me? I've been watching you since you started—since even before your injury. When many thought you were just another wonder kid, I kept my faith in your return. Especially when you made your debut at Real Madrid."
Kaiser:
"I guess you're right. It's been a journey… which reminds me."
Pirlo:
"But may I ask—why are you out here to see me?"
Kaiser:
"It's simple, really. I'm a fan."
Pirlo:
"Of who?"
Kaiser:
"Of you. The way you played today reminded me of the person I wanted to be back then."
Pirlo:
"That's crazy… Michael Kaiser just complimented me."
Kaiser:
"Well, don't let those words be your peak. I see a future where we play together."
Pirlo:
"What—playing with you?"
Kaiser:
"If fate wills it. But for now, take my number. Maybe we can play a game of street ball sometime."
I handed him my number on a card and turned to walk away.
An hour later, I met up with Modrić. He told me that everything had been finalized—there was only one issue. Sae is sixteen, and under FIFA regulations, a foreign footballer cannot sign a professional contract before the age of eighteen.
Meaning Sae cannot play for the senior team with me until then.
But that's when I had an idea.
All the presidents of the major football clubs will be attending the UAFE Champions League Gala, which means the presidents of the major Football Clubs will be there , which also means the President of FIFA—Ray Dark—will be there as well. Maybe I could make a bet. Convince him to lower the age requirement to seventeen instead.
If that happens, I can play with Sae for two full years before the Blue Lock Season 1 plot even begins.
Kaiser:
"That sounds like I have a lot of work to do to set that plan into motion."
.
.
Authors note:
Wanted to give a double chapter length in one chapter, to show that I'm back on blue lock and PS. Hugo is my new Goat as well hehe enjoy I have a lot planned for this fic.