Chapter Text
As the referee blew the whistle, PxG and Blue Lock moved instantly, the players of both teams clashing on the pitch while their goalies guarded the goals behind them like they were the most valuable treasure in the world. Although heated, the intense battle between the teams was no longer the centre of the match. Or to be precise, there was another match happening simultaneously on the field that was far more heated, its intensity close to setting the artificial grass beneath the two responsible's feet on fire.
At its core, two players clashed, the fated battle between the ocean and a slowly awakening volcano. Would the endless ocean swallow the rumbling volcano and sink it to the bottom of the sea before it exploded, or would the volcano vaporise the ocean beforehand?
Both players, with their burning hot temperaments, resembled forces of nature. One believed that destiny was set from the day you were born, the other fought against that destiny, believing that his ego could change everything, even the natural fate enforced by nature. Destiny forged these two together, the thin edge that connected the two sides of the same coin. Yet, they were opposing one another. When one faced up, the other had to look down; if one looked north, the other would look south. They were unable to see eye to eye, their beliefs fundamentally different. So they clashed on this stage, and there would be only one winner.
“Welcome back, guardian puppy. Missed me already?” Isagi sneered mockingly, grinning when Hugo chased towards him the moment the game restarted.
“I'll show you how unsuited you are for being a striker,” Hugo shot back, not trying to mask his dislike of the former any longer.
“Do your worst then, logic bastard,” Isagi mocked, keeping Hugo at arm's length with a solid push to the midfielder's chest.
“I don't need to, to deal with someone as unsuited as you.”
They clashed all across the field as they followed the flow of the game. When Isagi moved, Hugo blocked him. When Isagi made a feint, Hugo saw through it and stopped his play before he could start it. When Isagi retreated, Hugo gave chase, and when he advanced, Hugo stood in his way defiantly.
In the first half of the match, both had already played more physically than they usually did. Hugo used his body like a flexible wall to stop Isagi in his tracks, while the latter pushed back against Hugo with his own body.
Neither of them was usually the type of player to get so pushy in a game and rely on pure power play. As such, it was an unusual sight for anyone who knew them better. Both preferred a technical approach in games that capitalised on their sharp brains, taking the game apart until they were the undisputed ruler of the pitch. In that sense, while their approach differed, their play styles were essentially the same. Therefore, it came naturally to Isagi to read Hugo now that he had calmed down and settled on what he wanted to achieve in this match. The same applied to France's midfielder.
Maybe this clash with Isagi was a part of Hugo's destiny, too, the ultimate challenge to prove that his vision was correct. If he had to sink Isagi for that, Hugo would not hesitate to destroy him.
The first half seemed innocent compared to what the second half was. Hugo and Isagi had both completely foregone their usual play style and shifted to a full-body type of soccer when they didn't even have the soccer ball to fight over. Neither of them needed it, for their battle was one of brains. As such, no physical soccer ball was needed in their fight. The imaginary one both saw was more than enough, constantly shifting ownership as neither player yielded a single inch voluntarily.
To the outsider, their battle was not only an estranged concept with no visible ball present, but their struggle was borderline a slugfest, too. With how physical they played, it was no surprise. The referee kept a close eye on them because he saw how aggressively they behaved while struggling against one another. Isagi already received a yellow card and was teetering right on the edge for another one. However, Hugo was none the better, equally dancing on the very edge of the cliff.
Still, despite the danger that was not even a foot away, they didn't help each other to keep their balance at the edge and instead fought about who could push the other over the rim first.
Honestly speaking, the referee should have stepped in a long time ago, but the man had seen many games and even more players. Therefore, he knew what these two were fighting over was not just dominance over one another; it was a clash of beliefs and philosophies where only one of the opposing sides could win.
He took that into account as well as their intense gazes locked into one another like the horns of two raging bulls, not speaking of hatred but pure, unfiltered concentration. That was why he turned a blind eye to them. As long as no fists flew, he would not interfere in their battle, partly because he wanted to see how it turned out and partly because he was afraid to be on the receiving end of those two burning hot glares.
Hugo and Isagi barely took notice of the mercy they were shown, too absorbed in their battle over who was right. The one who believed in destiny or the one who denied it?
They only separated when the whistle blew for a corner kick or a throw-in from the offside after the ball flew past the set confines of the field.
“Looks like you have found yourself quite the match-up,” Loki observed in one of those short breaks.
Hugo stayed silent, not confirming or denying the statement as he used his shirt to wipe off the sweat from his face. But he noticed how Loki sounded somewhat impressed. Hugo hated that he felt the same. He was the only one from PxG who was sweating heavily, panting through his open mouth. The reason for his poor condition was obvious.
Looking at Isagi from an individual skill point of view, he was no good. He had impressive mental specs but lacked in the physical department. Or so was Hugo's impression before the beginning of the second half.
While not outstanding, Isagi's physical abilities had improved a lot since the Neo Egoist League. Of course, there was Japan's match against Nigeria that opened the World Cup, but that could hardly be counted as a reference.
Isagi showed no trouble keeping up with Hugo, using every opportunity he was given involuntarily to get past him. Moreover, Isagi seemed to surpass him when it came to keeping an eye on the rest of the match, reacting to the plays that occurred around them before Hugo had even grasped them, while they were locked in their intense battle of beliefs.
It was frustrating to see that Isagi didn't crumble despite his best efforts. It was a constant back and forth between them, almost like they were dancing with the leading person constantly changing.
It was infuriating, but more than anything else, Hugo hated himself for finding enjoyment in their dance.
Their beliefs were fundamentally different, so there wasn't supposed to be common ground on which they could agree. Hugo wanted to crush Isagi and set him straight in the head with that defeat, but the more they played with the imaginary ball between them, the more Hugo found himself intrigued by Isagi, who lived so unsuitably but managed to keep up with him. According to his logic, it should be impossible, but Isagi resisted and continued to defy him.
The count for the game still stood at 3:1 for France. The match had grown fiercer with a handful of close calls on both sides, but no goal was scored since the opening minutes of the second half.
As the minutes ticked by, Hugo and Isagi were not the only ones who got close to their physical limits. The stakes were high, and PxG began to feel the pressure too. Paired with how strong Blue Lock was, one slip-up could mean demise. It was a far call from the Japan they had faced in the past. From a backwater country to a serious contender in the World Cup. It was no overestimation to consider Blue Lock on par with Europe's big leagues.
But every match had to come to an end eventually.
The whistle sounded, announcing three minutes of additional time. The last stretch was upon both teams, and every player on the field was eager to score the final goal of the game. One in particular was starved, famished even, because his newly adopted guardian puppy turned out to be extremely persistent, not letting up for even a second.
Isagi's whole body was screaming from exertion at this point, but he ignored it. He wanted to beat Hugo and crush his destiny talk beneath his feet. He could worry about his sore body once the match was over.
“Three minutes left, Yoichi,” Hugo drawled. “Didn't you claim the next goal would be yours with a Two-Gun-Volley? Was that all just bark, or are you gonna try to bite too?”
“Ha! Shut up, Hugo. Three minutes is all I need,” Isagi countered, pressing his hand against Hugo's chest as he watched Bachira dribbling towards the French goal. He felt Hugo's rapid heartbeat with his palm, beating at a similar pace as his own heart.
Hugo only scoffed. “If you say so, Yoichi.”
Neither of the two knew when it happened, but somewhere between the slurs and slides they were throwing at each other, their forenames had slipped in. So, when they weren't busy cussing the daylights out of each other, they called one another by their respective given names.
It was a weird development between the two because they came across like fire and water, substances that were not meant to get along. However, that strange development created a completely new chemical reaction neither Hugo nor Isagi understood or were aware of.
The one hundred eighty seconds of the additional time dripped by until only sixty remained. Hiori had just stolen the ball from Charles and brought it towards France's half of the field. The ultra sadist had long morphed into the gremlin's nightmare at this point, the young playmaker throwing a tantrum.
Every player on the pitch, every spectator, the whole world knew the next attack would be the last play.
“Time's almost over, Yoichi. Won't let you get past me no matter what,” Hugo panted, keeping Isagi barely outside of the penalty area.
They had moved dangerously close to the French goal with their struggle, so Hugo couldn't let up now, especially not when Isagi was in a position from which he could shoot at the goal. One mistake and Isagi might invite that one percent luck in the final hour of the game. On paper, PxG had already won, but Blue Lock didn't move like a team that was about to lose. They moved like they were ready to shoot three goals in the remaining sixty seconds.
Everyone in PxG felt that oppressive pressure from the opposing team, and truth be told, if Japan scored a goal now of all times, it would very much feel like a defeat even if they officially won.
The blow to their pride would not be soothed by such a weak excuse.
“We will see about that, Hugo,” Isagi panted back, equally exhausted. His mind was sharper than ever, though, most of his adrenaline going straight to his brain and forcing it into hyperdrive. He saw everything on the field despite the chaos in France's section of the pitch.
Every member of Blue Lock except Gagamaru had moved in for the final attack, although their monkey king looked like he was seconds away from joining the fray as well.
Hiori had stolen the ball and brought it to the middle of the field. A pass to Rin followed, and in a disliked but calculated manoeuvre, he and Shidou brought the ball deeper into France's territory.
Loki had intercepted their dribbling and stolen the ball from them, but Niko stood ready and instantly countered the counter, bringing back the ball into their possession.
Bachira and Chigiri took over then, a rapid bee x panther chemical reaction tearing through the right wing of France's defences with potent stinger and sharp claws. Another pass meant for Karasu followed when they got blocked by France's defence, but Barou jumped in and took the shot – and freaking missed.
In the calmness of his mind, Isagi sighed when the ball hit the goalpost. Of course, that stupid gorilla maid would do something unnecessary like that and screw up. Not that Isagi was in a position to call him out for his actions. No one in Blue Lock could do that, for each of them lived for the sake of their goal. They had lost the right to complain about selfish actions the moment they stepped into Blue Lock.
“Loose ball!” A cacophony of players shouted simultaneously, the whole field racing to get it.
Royal purple flashed in the corner of Isagi's eyes, and he grinned when amethyst eyes locked with his. Reo beat everyone to the loose ball and brought it back to Blue Lock by copying Aryu.“Someone shoot this freaking goal already!” He shouted in aggravation while he dropped to the ground, although it sounded different to Isagi's ears.
"The rest is up to you."
That was what isagi heard, and when Hiori ended up being the one to receive the ball, he knew his guess was correct. The moment Hiori reeled the ball in, every puzzle piece fell into place inside Isagi's mind. The position of every player, their current movements, their possible routes; his Metavision showed him everything. And he knew there was someone else who saw the same he did.
From across the field, sky blue eyes met his. When their feral gazes locked, the ultra sadist smirked, and the ultra egoist did too.
“An ultra sadistic pass coming right up! Mess this up, and I'm gonna drop ya', ya' damn egoist!”
Hiori shot, the ball soaring over the heads of everyone. Shouts erupted in both teams, some yelling what the fuck he was doing, while others were confused about whom this pass was meant for. Reo was the only one who knew what was happening, his awakened Metavision aligning with Hiori and Isagi's. A few others realised shortly after what was happening when they saw the shot course, but it was already too late for them to react.
The pitch was chaos incarnated, but to Isagi, everything made perfect sense, even chaos. His brain was completely immersed in the game, his thoughts streamlined towards achieving his goal. That was why he could say his next words without remorse, not fearing the consequences of giving away his plan to his enemy.
“Get ready, Hugo. Here comes my Two-Gun-Volley. Don't blink and engrave it into your memory.”
Telling his opponent his plan. It was the biggest insult he could have thrown at Hugo in that moment, but Isagi didn't care. Hugo started it by trampling on his dream, acting like a know-it-all. This was well-deserved payback.
Hugo growled behind him, swallowing the bait like a starved vulture. “Don't get cocky with me now, Yoichi. Don't forget we see the pitch from the same point of view. I know it's coming even without you telling me so. I will destroy your pointless weapon and with it your unsuitable dream.”
“Just try it.”
Hugo pressed harder against him, solid muscles sticking to solid muscles. Isagi pushed back against the press until he could no longer tell where his body ended and Hugo's began. Knowing Hiori, the annoying sadist would most likely call him out for the physical proximity he had with Hugo for the duration of the match once it ended, but that was a problem for his future self. Right now, he didn't fucking care. All he cared for was his next goal.
The pass closed in, the stadium's attention solely on Hugo and him because by now everyone had understood where the pass was heading.
Earlier during the half-time break, he had suggested changing Blue Lock's system from a pattern centred around him to a model that centred around chemical reactions amongst the different players on the pitch. It was a high-risk strategy, but the best possible counter against France he could think of. If their opponents had studied their strengths and weaknesses and placed the perfect counter for each of them on the field, all they needed to surpass that system was explosive growth that France had no data about.
Then he added he would not follow the concept, though, because he would deal with Hugo instead. It got him a bunch of strange and surprised looks, but in the end, everyone agreed with his suggestion, not questioning his intentions with fringe eyes.
That was why everyone had mostly forgotten about Hugo and him at this point, seeing how they battled out their personal vendetta. But Isagi could always count on Hiori and Reo, too, now. They saw the field the same way he did, so in this critical moment when it mattered most, the trio's brains worked as one, creating a logical killer machine.
“Your weapon is already dead. Why are you still persisting so much? Living according to your natural destiny would be so much easier.”
Isagi readied himself. “Because that kind of life is fucking boring! I want to decide over my destiny by myself and not let others dictate it!”
The body pressing against his shuddered briefly, but it was lost on Isagi, who formulated his winning formula.
“Even if you say that, there's nothing you can do to change your destiny. It's set the moment you're born. That's why you won't score that goal with your volley or whatever else you come up with. You're unsuited for being number one just like me!”
“Stop projecting your own weakness on me already! Just watch how I become number one right now!”
No words were spoken after that anymore. The collective pass from Reo and Hiori was finally here, and with it, the decisive moment of the game. Win or lose. It would be decided now.
Using their fight to his advantage, Isagi wrestled Hugo out of the trajectory of Hiori's sadistic pass to prevent him from stealing it. He could not push him away completely unless he wanted to risk another yellow card, but their alignment was solely up to him. Hugo could only take that advantage from him by forcing it, which would be considered a foul on his part. They were really dancing on the edge here, and it was close to a miracle the ref hadn't forced them apart yet.
It worked in Isagi's favour, so he didn't complain.
The pass connected with his foot, and Isagi made his gamble then and there. His normal Two-Gun-Volley was sealed by Hugo. He would give his guardian puppy that much credit. This meant if he wanted to score with the other pressing him, he had to alter his weapon and forge it into something completely new right now.
That was the formula he had come up with to beat Hugo and his logic. For that, Isagi had recalled how his weapon came to be in the moment of desperation when he was pressed by Rin and Kaiser from both sides two months ago. Back then, he moved on an instinctual level in order to score, but this time, he had more time to calculate and prepare his next move against the annoying logic bastard, his thoughts solely set on achieving his goal in this match.
His weapon was born from Nagi's creativity and his own direct shot. By stealing the concept of Nagi's juggling shot, Isagi created something new, a weapon that was engraved with his own mark. And if he wanted to change the weapon that was essentially a combo from Nagi and him, he would have to steal from the genius again. And that was exactly what Isagi planned to do.
Last time it was Nagi's creativity; this time, he would steal his control and make it his own. At the same time, Isagi was aware that he was unable to steal all of it. Nagi was a natural-born genius gifted with that talent from birth. His control was similar to Loki's god-speed or Rin's destructive tendencies, the natural aspects that made them geniuses in Isagi's soccer world. He could try, but would never be able to take their talent from them. But that was fine. He wasn't god. Getting too greedy would only hamper his own style. He learned that concept during the Neo Egoist League in the match against Manshine City from his former idol.
Besides, he did not need to take everything from the geniuses, only the crucial pieces best suited for him.
All I need is a fraction of it and integrate that fraction into my formula.
Inside his head, the formula for his Two-Gun-Volley began to shift, the pieces trembling before breaking apart. For something new to begin, the old version had to die first, be it a weapon or his very own self. Before the pieces scattered and vanished into the mass of other puzzle pieces, they were caught and forced back together with the addition of a completely new piece.
Direct shot to the right and juggling shot to the left. Down below was the piece for creativity, and the newly added piece for control settled on top, creating something new, a refined weapon for the sole purpose of tearing through Hugo's logic and destiny.
Isagi shifted his foot as Hiori's pass drilled into him, keeping the ball in its natural curve. Hiori's pass was heavy, forcing Isagi to grit his teeth from the speed and weight.
Can't believe Nagi makes this look so easy!
He had seen it countless times, but doing it himself was a big difference. Yet, it wouldn't be a gamble if everything went smoothly from the get-go. Isagi was not perfect, not a natural-born genius; he was a talented learner. That was why he had to fight harder than anyone else to keep up with those damn geniuses, because through struggles and the pain that came with them did he grew. And he had his adaptability on his side, the ultimate weapon of his ever-growing arsenal, the universal fifth piece that made his new formula complete.
His foot curved more, his hands keeping Hugo at bay while he adapted to the pass with stolen control until the ball was under his reign. Like that, he tapped his foot upwards gently, using the remaining momentum from the pass to lift the ball right in front of him. It was in the perfect spot for a shot, even when he was pressed by Hugo.
From behind Isagi, Hugo saw it too, saw the potential shot course for a direct shot, Isagi's signature move. The penalty area was a mess right now, his team's defence in complete chaos. If Isagi pulled off a direct shot now, Hugo knew he would score. Nobody would be able to block the shot in time – except him if he prevented it now. Isagi had taunted him with scoring the next goal with his Two-Gun, but that was probably a fluke in itself meant to unsettle him.
Hugo acted before his brain caught up with his actions. He acted not on logic but on the pure instinct to protect. He saw the logic he had believed in his whole life at threat of being destroyed, and he would not allow that to happen, not when he could prevent it.
In the first half of the game, Hugo had told Isagi that anyone would think a lion attempting to fly to be stupid, unnatural. He said it to create a metaphorical image of how idiotic Isagi's actions were, but the latter cared not one bit about the comparison.
The reason was simple. Hugo could tell now that Isagi didn't care about the comparison because he was the lion trying to fly into the sky. And Hugo stood in his path as Isagi ran towards the edge. If he was not careful, Isagi would pounce on him and drag them both over the edge of the steep cliff. Gravity would take care of the rest and finish the job.
Hugo broke his press, detaching himself from Isagi's back. Now was not the time to be passive anymore. Oppressing Isagi physically had killed his weapons until now, but it was not enough to seal this particular direct shot. If Hugo continued with his press, PxG would lose even if they won on paper.
He moved with blinding speed, zipping past Isagi with the intent to clear the ball and send it out of bounds. A lame ending to the game compared to a 4:1, but still world's better than ending it on a 3:2.
When he was in position, Hugo's eyes locked onto the target, and his leg kicked out, aiming to clear the ball immediately. However, with his press gone, Isagi was free to roam as he pleased again, and he took immediate action, even before Hugo had done.
Isagi jumped and initiated the movement he used for his Two-Gun-Volley. Time stilled to an almost complete halt, the world watching with bated breath as both players aimed for the soccer ball that would decide the match.
One wanted to protect his logic and destiny, whereas the other desired to tear it all down and write destiny with his own hands. Time continued, crawling forwards in slow-motion until is suddenly sped up again.
Isagi's foot reached the ball first, deciding fate – almost. He didn't shoot, the thwacking of leather not filling Hugo's ears. Instead, a sharp hustle reached his ears as Isagi's foot slipped beneath the ball, making it bounce up again. His eyes widened in what could only be described as pure horror.
A deception. A fucking deception now of all times.
Isagi used a fucking feint and lured him out in this decisive moment, demolishing both his plan and backup at the same time. Hugo had intended to clear the ball, but in case he wouldn't make it before Isagi, he had diligently placed himself between Isagi's shot course and the goal. If he couldn't clear the ball in time, he would tank it with his body instead.
But Isagi had seen through his ploy, had read further into the future than he did, had anticipated his secret move and worked a way around it. Hugo was still in the clearing motion, in a state of unbalance where he was vulnerable. If Isagi shot now, Hugo could do nothing to stop him.
In his mind, he saw how his destined path began to crumble, the earth beneath him giving way to a bottomless abyss as dark as the bottom of the ocean. But his fingers grasped the dirt on the edge before he fell completely. Hugo gritted his teeth, unwilling to let it end like this.
“I'm not done yet! I won't give up after getting so far!” He shouted, refusing to accept defeat.
Isagi's body whirled around from the momentum of his feint before his feet landed on the ground again, only to push him upwards once more for a follow-up jump.
Hugo saw the new shot course opening, his chest ablaze with the desire to crush Isagi's goal. In reality, he was in no position to block it, but the midfielder refused to think he was powerless in this situation.
So he forced it, forced his body to move past its limit. He used his leg still on the ground, flexed every muscle inside and jumped too, right into Isagi's shot course. His body protested instantly, a sharp pain emerging from somewhere inside his right hamstring. He ignored it, ignored that he had probably pulled a muscle or ripped a tendon. All Hugo cared about right now was to stop Isagi and prove that his definition was correct, that people not following their natural destiny could never make it to the top.
Clasping his hands behind his back, he flexed his abdominal muscles where he was now airborne, readying himself for the upcoming impact. When he woke up this morning, he didn't think he would kiss a soccer ball hello today. However, it was a little price to pay when it meant he stopped Isagi from scoring.
Isagi's leg cut through the air, racing towards the ball for his shot. Their eyes met, and time stilled. Between them, across the pitch, over the entire world. Every person across the globe watching the moment held their breath, as human society came to a momentary halt.
The moment lasted only for a fraction of a second before time returned to normal. Right after it ended, Isagi Yoichi's lips curled upwards into an almost sinister smirk.
“You fell for it, number two.”
His left leg, which was about to hit the ball, curled around it instead, and made a beautiful arc, creating a brief time-lapse that delayed his shot by a mere second. This insignificant delay shook the very world of Hugo to its core.
The alert signal beeping inside Hugo's head vanished from his radar, the blinking blip suddenly gone without a trace. Yet, the beeping persisted, still warning him that a new target was detected a moment later, coming from a completely different angle than he had anticipated, from a place he couldn't reach. He knew what it meant.
Isagi's shot course was now open with no one standing in his way anymore.
Hugo's eyes widened in complete and utter shock as he could only stare helplessly at the motions of Isagi's Two-Gun-Volley, the move he had studied day and night in preparation for this match, declaring to his team that he would not allow Blue Lock's heart to pull in that one percent chance of luck.
He had memorised Isagi's weapon in minute detail, formed countermeasures against it and crafted their strategy single-handedly, all for the sake of preventing Isagi from doing the impossible.
And he had fucking failed. His logic led by destiny was incapable of fully comprehending the egoist Isagi Yoichi, Blue Lock's ace. Hugo had underestimated how fast Isagi could develop, and now he reaped what his failure sowed, Isagi's redesigned weapon tearing him apart.
Thwack!
Isagi's foot struck the soccer ball dead in the centre, sending it flying at the speed of a bullet. As if to mock him further, it zoomed over his falling body. The air kicked up by the shot was his undoing as he lost his grip on the edge of the hole he was still dangling in.
Hugo's logic, his destiny, the path he had walked until now. It all came crumbling down as he fell into the pitch black hole, the ocean that was Isagi swallowing him whole with a wave so big that even the sky itself was devoured.
The soccer ball soared through the air, carried by the violent force of Isagi's shot. France's goalie tried to stop the inevitable, but it sailed past his stretched hands. A moment later, the net rattled behind him, and the whistle sounded, sealing Hugo's fate as the opening of the hole above him closed. The last thing he saw before his world turned black was the intense burning of Isagi's blue eyes as he watched in cold blood how Hugo fell into the void of his shattered philosophy.
3:2 was the final count in the match between France and Japan, with Isagi's last play almost tying the game against France, the hottest contender to win the World Cup.
Hugo's body collapsed ungracefully on the ground, looking like the biggest fool in the world, as he had been overrun by the lion that had wanted to fly despite everyone deeming it a fool. Unbothered by the slides, the mad cat had jumped, and in a move that defied common logic itself, it was wrapped in blinding light as it grew a pair of majestic wings before taking to the endless sky with a mighty beat of its new extremities protruding from its shoulders.
From where he lay in the dirt, beaten and crushed, Hugo stared with big eyes as his vision was filled with blinding light, the light of someone who fought his destiny despite all odds, aiming to claim the top of the world for himself.
Hugo should think it was repulsive because the lion rising higher and higher into the sky stood for everything he abhorred, everything he hated and everything he denied. Following one's destiny was the best and most suitable path one could choose in life. Anyone not following that rule was a moron in his eyes.
And yet, he found the lion that now hovered high above him at the zenith of the world not repulsive. He didn't abhor it either, or felt hatred towards it. All Hugo could think about was how majestic the lion looked, a mighty creature that fought against destiny and conquered it.
And more than anything else, Hugo thought that the lion looked breathtakingly beautiful, the lion that was Isagi Yoichi, the one who devoured him and took everything he had.
That Isagi... no. That Yoichi, Hugo found beautiful, his mesmerising light captivating him and pulling him into his orbit. The thought of Isagi's beauty lingered for barely a second in his mind, yet it left a lasting impression on Hugo, the heart in his chest pounding harder, not from exertion but something else, a feeling far lighter than anything else he had experienced before.
And then the lion that was Isagi Yoichi roared in victory. When his jubilant cry echoed over the pitch, he inspired the world to do the same. And it did, the world crying out a moment later, following his example.
GOOOAAALLLLL!
The whole stadium erupted into an uproar at the official announcement droning from the speakers. The spectators rose from their seats as they celebrated the last goal of the game.
The orchestra of voices tuned out the whistle that ended the match, marking PxG's victory. Yet, it didn't feel like a victory to any of France's players, not when Blue Lock and the entirety of Japan roared like they were the winning side.
Isagi! Isagi! Isagi! Isagi!
The whole stadium chanted his name like a mantra, clapping twice after every call of his name. They stomped on the ground with every clap, too, creating an intense atmosphere in the stadium that the losing side should not have. It was overwhelming, Japan's excitement over Isagi's goal surreal.
Isagi himself roared the loudest as he pumped his fist into the air, celebrating his victory because that was what it was to him, a victory not in the match but a victory over his new rival that dared to belittle him, giving him an overdose of egotistical pleasure.
“Yar' unreal!” Hiori shouted from behind when he jumped on Isagi's back, patting his head. “Knew ya' were cooking something up when ya' told us ya' would deal with fringe eyes, but this was just unreal! How much of that did ya' plan ahead?”
Isagi grinned. “Pretty much everything except the timing. Have the name ready, too, already.”
Hiori raised an eyebrow at that. Isagi grinned wider. “Two-Gun-Fake-Volley. An advanced version by not only stealing Nagi's creativity, but also his ball control.”
“Ha! Crazy bastard!”
Before Isagi could respond, Bachira suddenly jumped on his back too. “Isagi-chan! You are dripping from ego juices!” The bee man yelled from the top of his lungs. It earned him a few weird glances, but he didn't care about those.
“My monster was yelling at me the whole time that something amazing would happen, but you blew my mind, Isagi-chan! We are besties for life! No take-backs!”
“If you don't get off me right now, that lifetime will be incredibly short,” Isagi wheezed, his voice strained from where he was buried beneath Hiori and Bachira.
“Sorry, Bachira, but the bestie for life is my spot,” Hiori chimed in, showing no signs of getting up. “You gotta look for something else.”
“No way!” Bachira protested immediately.
“Yes way.”
“Get off me already!” The striker yelled with the last bits of strength, cutting the impending argument on his back short. Thankfully, Bachira and Hiori finally showed mercy and stood up, allowing Isagi to do the same.
Before he could get far, though, a hand suddenly appeared in his vision. Looking up, he found Shidou standing in front of him, a feral smirk on his face.
“Kaka, I swear one of these days you're gonna make me blow my load untouched, Isagi! That was a fantastic explosion!”
Accepting the hand, Isagi rose to his feet. “Don't blow your load too soon. We are only getting started here, Shidou.”
Shidou's smirk grew impossibly bigger. “Gimme your number. Gotta make you mine before anyone else.”
Isagi waved him off, but decided to play along. “If you want my number, you should start scoring goals.”
“Playing hard to get? Fine with me! I love a good challenge. It will make conquering you more fun.”
“In your fucking dreams!” Isagi laughed.
“Don't get too excited over your one goal, scrub,” Barou barked from somewhere nearby.
Turning to face him, Isagi smirked. “At least I scored one, unlike you, Mr. post-hitter.”
Barou snarled, but knew he couldn't say anything back. There was truth in what Isagi said, and he hated it, hated that the insufferable scrub was right.
Barou stomped off without uttering another word, swearing to himself that he would show Isagi his rightful place in the next match.
“Isagi,” another voice slipped into the chatter. Reo stepped up to him, an unreadable expression on his face.
“The movements of your last play... where they....”
Reo trailed off, unable to finish that sentence. He didn't have to. Isagi knew what this was about even without Reo saying it out loud. They were getting along a lot better these days, so much so that Isagi would call Reo a close friend.
“Yeah. I drew inspiration from Nagi's play style and incorporated bits of it into my weapon.” Isagi huffed, half in amusement and half in something he was not sure what to name. “Guess I can't stop thinking about that lazy genius.”
That made Reo laugh, feeling the same. Since Nagi's disqualification, they have been on better terms than before. He had already understood a while back that Isagi was a chill guy and easy to get along with, but never found the courage to jump over his shadows. Maybe his pathetic behaviour in the second selection prevented him from giving it a try, but with Nagi's parting, a bond formed between them all on its own. It was sad, though it took Nagi not making it for them to arrive at this point.
Reo quickly dismissed that thought, not wanting to ruin the moment post-goal. Isagi being Isagi, he noticed and had the right words to uplift Reo's mood.
“I wouldn't worry too much about him. He had more than enough time to sleep to his heart's desire, so he should feel energised as he goes through Side B.”
This made Reo laugh out loud. “Hopefully! Somewhat miss receiving calls in the dead of the night when he got lost again.”
Isagi joined in the laughter, knowing too well what Reo was getting at. Put simply, Nagi was terrible with directions and more than once needed someone to save his ass from sleeping on cold concrete. That role always fell to either Isagi or Reo, making it probably the weirdest thing in the world to bond over. Since it was Nagi they were talking about, it wasn't that surprising, though. Of course, he would be too lazy to read the layout plans and get lost as a consequence.
“Dunno what you lukewarm bumps are getting all excited about. We lost the game in case you don't know how to fucking count.”
Suddenly, Rin's curt voice ruptured through the light mood that had embraced Blue Lock's team in the wake of Isagi's goal and the fun banter between them. Blue Lock's second ace sounded nonchalant, but everyone could pick up the underlying frustration residing in each of his words.
Instantly, their mood soured, the weight of the loss becoming apparent as it dangled over their heads like a rusty guillotine. Bachira's face turned neutral, Hiori stopped smirking, Shidou rolled his eyes, and Reo's expression turned darker. Only Isagi didn't react immediately, his face hidden behind the shadow cast by his sweaty bangs.
Then a clap sounded, coming not from the stands but from the pitch. “Looks like you're finally getting it,” Loki said as he stepped into their conversation.
“While I will admit that you guys were better than we expected, it doesn't change the fact that you lost. I'll honour how well you take the loss, though.”
The number one of their generation sounded nice to the open ear, as if he was truly acknowledging them. Yet each of his words was spoken with mockery. His expression was a sneer, too, revealing his true impression he didn't bother to hide.
In all honesty, ending the match against the favourite of the tournament on a 2:3 was a great achievement. Yet, just as Loki said, they still lost. If they lost against England, too, Blue Lock's future looked bleak.
“You really don't get it, do you?”
Isagi's dismissive tone cut through the tension on the field like a gleaming hot knife. Instantly, all eyes were on him as Blue Lock's heart stayed true to his title, egoistically claiming the centre stage for himself.
“This game was not about winning or losing, not since the second half began.”
Loki's eyes squinted. “What are you talking about? A match is all about winning or losing.”
Isagi huffed, half in annoyance and half in amusement. Loki's face twitched.
“Spoken like a true genius. Of course, you wouldn't get it.”
“Don't get what?”
Their eyes met. “That a game can be so much more than winning and losing.”
Isagi chuckled then. “Not that I expect someone like you to understand it.”
Loki took a step forward, getting irritated. He had no idea yet what Isagi was talking about, but he knew he was made fun of.
“I see you still have that attitude. You're talking big, although you lost.”
Isagi stayed silent for a moment, where he only stared at Loki, not uttering a word. Then his gaze shifted, blue eyes wandering until they stopped, locking in on Hugo.
“You get it what I'm saying here, don't you?”
Hugo's breath hitched under Isagi's intense gaze. He was still on the ground but had shifted into kneeling. He would have stood up, but his leg protested, refusing to support his body weight.
Isagi began moving then, closing the distance between them. While he walked, his mouth ran non-stop.
“We're both talented learners, people who adapt to those natural geniuses. That's why you see it, right? You can see what I was aiming for in this match, right?”
He stopped in front of the midfielder, the height difference from their differing positions making Hugo feel small, although he was physically taller than Isagi. Leaning slightly forward, Isagi parted his lips, his next words a cold whisper that made Hugo shudder.
“You can tell and understand why I'm feeling the most egoistical pleasure I ever had, right?”
Hugo did not, unable to read what Isagi was trying to tell. He got bested during the game, and now it seemed his next loss was already hovering above him. Thankfully, Loki chose that moment to inject himself again into the conversation.
“You're making no sense, Isagi Yoichi. Is your cryptic yapping your way of not wanting to admit that you lost? That's just pathetic. With someone like you at the top, it will take Japan another two centuries before you will get even as much as a look at the trophy.”
Isagi's attention shifted away from Hugo and back to Loki.
“You're just proving my point,” Isagi responded curtly, stealing Hugo's words from earlier and making them his own.
“Remember what I told you in the Neo Egoist League? That you're just someone who happened to be born fast and shouldn't be so full of yourself because of it?”
Loki glowered at him, France captain's expression instantly darkening at the reminder. Isagi ignored the reaction, not caring one bit about it.
“I'm still thinking the same. While I'll admit that your godspeed is impressive, to me it's nothing special. All you can do is run a little bit faster than others. That makes it easy to predict what you will do next 'cause it's all staged around that speed of yours.”
While Isagi ran his mouth, Loki had made his way to him, now standing barely two feet away. The air on the pitch was charged; members of both teams were wary of the two forwards standing dangerously close to each other. While his fellow Blue Lockers knew Isagi as someone to get along with super easily, they were also aware that he had quite a mouth on him, especially when he was on the field wearing his uniform. Most of them had at least one experience where they were on the receiving end of his taunts. That Loki got aggravated from his slurs was hardly a surprise to any of them.
“What are you trying to say?”
Isagi answered without hesitation, almost as if he had prepared the following words since the day he was born.
"That your soccer is boring to me, Wunderkind-san. To think someone can get so full of himself, although every fucking person in the world is capable of running... It's fucking boring."
Isagi sneered then, almost spitting his next words. "Loki the Wunderkind? More like Loki the pampered brat."
The brawl was on as France's captain took a step forward, his fist curling into a tight fist. Loki might had a mature mindset for reaching the top at his young age, but at his core, he too was a teenager Isagi's age who could easily get angry when he was high on hormones.
Charles wolf-whistled at Isagi's insult and the resulting chaos, spurring both forwards on to beat the shit out of each other. The referee and his assistants were moving in to stop the impending fight before it could escalate any further.
Most members of PxG were in a state of shock after seeing their captain not only getting insulted but also reacting so aggressively. The remaining ones looked eager to join in.
On the other side, most Blue Lockers were just sighing, although they were somewhat happy that they were not on the radar of Slursagi today. Others like Shidou were laughing and cracking their knuckles in anticipation.
On the sidelines, Ego watched the brewing mayhem with annoyance flashing in his eyes. Although he was delighted about Isagi's egotistical display, he wouldn't tolerate such bratty behaviour. He would have to have a talk with Isagi about his attitude later. First, he had to stop the riot, but unfortunately, he couldn't use his anti-riot shocker. Using it with the world watching would harm Blue Lock's reputation. He couldn't allow that to happen, so he reluctantly stood up from his seat, seeing no other option than to reel his egoists back in by himself.
Isagi, who stood in the centre of the storm, was unfazed by the approaching Loki. What he said was the simple truth, and if the other couldn't handle it, that was not his fault. If anything, Loki's reaction made it more apparent that he was a pampered brat.
The tension grew thick across the field. Members of both teams began to get involved, too. Some tried to de-escalate the situation while others poured oil into the open fire. The world had a front row seat to the growing turmoil that was about to explode. Yet, it never came to it.
Through the storm, a scattered voice instantly cooled the temperaments of everyone involved – all except one. It was the kind of voice one had after coming to a gruelling realisation that shook the very core of one's beliefs, maybe even shattering it.
“Me...”
The one who muttered that one word was none other than Hugo, the number two of France's team. With the additional time Loki gave him, he finally arrived at the conclusion of what Isagi tried to tell him. He finally understood the intention behind Isagi's actions.
“You can tell and understand why I'm feeling the most egoistical pleasure I ever had, right?”
Earlier, Hugo didn't know. But now he did, and it robbed his breath away. That kind of action was not just unsuitable; it was intolerable in his world, something that shouldn't be allowed to exist.
“You... stopped playing to win this match and instead played solely to crush me...”
Hugo muttered those words mostly to himself, but everyone heard them. The reactions differed from player to player, but most were shocked about that revelation, even Isagi's fellow Blue Lockers.
“That's right,” Isagi admitted, erasing any remaining doubts.
Hugo looked up, not believing what Isagi had said, although the latter had already confirmed he made the correct conclusion.
“You can't be serious. Nobody would act like this and sacrifice the team's win for their own sake. No one-”
“I don't care,” the opposing forward interrupted coldly. “In Blue Lock, we live only for the sake of our ego, and mine was screaming to crush and devour you. All I cared about was beating you and your shitty logic, nothing else.”
Isagi had stepped up to him by now, looking him dead in the eye. Then he leaned down and grabbed the collar of his shirt, smashing their foreheads together.
“And it's my victory!”
There it was. The singular truth. In their clash of beliefs, Isagi won, and Hugo lost. The lion that was not born to fly grew a pair of wings and took to the skies, while Hugo was left in the dirt of his shattered destiny.
That was the true result of the match. Blue Lock had lost the game, but Isagi claimed victory in their personal war.
Isagi withdrew his face, his heated breath no longer fanning Hugo's skin. Then he pushed him back to the ground, back into the dirt.
Without giving him further acknowledgement, Isagi left him behind, not stepping off the pitch like a loser but like a winner because that was what he was: a winner.
The rest of his team followed after Isagi like satellites orbiting their sun, attracted to the light he emitted. Just like him.
Hugo could only watch in defeat, feeling lost for the first time in his life. It was a complete and utter defeat for him. There was so much he wanted to yell, to reject the last fifty minutes or so, but his mouth was sealed, words failing him.
Isagi suddenly stopped mid-step, Hugo's hollow eyes still lingering on him. Then his lips parted, hammering down the last nail of Hugo's coffin.
“And just to let you know... your destiny tastes fucking disgusting.”
The final slide, the final jab, the right of the winner to mock the loser.
Hugo faltered first, his gaze lowering to the artificial grass as Isagi left the field, his fingers digging into the dirt. That was all he could do in that moment at the end of the game, France versus Japan, the victory that was a loss.