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THE BALL SOARS, flying in a perfect arc, and Rin doesn't bother watching it go, already turning to grab the next ball. He hears the faint but familiar sound of the soccer ball hitting net as he sets the new ball down, giving himself a running start, dribbling, before sending it with the same trajectory as the previous one.
Fifty goals untouched by Blue Lock Man. Not enough, but he's earned himself a break.
He drops down by the cart filled with balls that he's claimed as his own, downing half his water in one go.
It's hovering around dinnertime, meaning the field he usually uses will start clearing out. It'll be once again bustling come 9 PM or so, before clearing by 11. He doesn't remember most of the names, but he recognizes faces by their plays. There's the guy with glasses that he faced off against in the second selection, practicing 1v1's with some other player. Some kid with a pink braid - who Rin's always thought should give up being a striker for a center position - playing with Hiori, working on gyro-shots.
Isagi and Bachira stand in the middle of the field, practicing dribbling, of all things. It's fucking embarrassing how a player like Isagi could think he was on the same level as Rin. He couldn't even fucking dribble properly.
A shadow falls over him as someone picks up a ball from the cart Rin is leaning against, and he snaps his gaze harshly toward the offender.
Nagi Seishiro looks as bored as ever, completely unaffected by the glare Rin sends him, barely making eye contact for more than a second before shifting his concentration to spinning the soccer ball on his pinkie. "Practicing half-court goals? Seriously?"
"Mid-field," Rin corrects without thinking. He isn't spoken to much at Blue Lock, not unless it's by someone who thinks they're on the same level as him. Nagi had talent, he'd give him that, but it was completely wasted on someone like him. "The fuck do you want?"
A shrug. "Bored."
"Then fucking practice like the rest of us."
Another shrug.
A laugh resounds from across the field, Rin glancing over to see Bachira hunched over, clutching his stomach, and Isagi looking far too pleased with himself.
"He looks like a fucking clown."
The words are muttered, but Nagi hears them anyway, following his gaze. "Who, Isagi?" He drops the ball, trapping it. "I dunno. He's kind of hot."
Rin blinked. "What?"
Nagi shrugged. "In a stupid kind of way," he amended. Sure enough, Isagi attempted a simple flick-up while on the move and ended up stepping on the ball, losing his balance, and just barely catching himself in time. Bachira laughed, the sound grating his ears from all the way across the field.
