⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
If you have 300 people in Blue Lock, starting off with 12 people on a team, how many teams would you have? Imagine one person from each team was kicked off. How many people would be left in Blue Lock? That answer was the number that was embroidered onto your body suit's arm.
You don't know how you had such a low score. Was it because you were a girl, and it was just the unfair way of the world? No. You know for a fact that the baldie did worse than you. You had that trick shot on the first day. You also practically only work out because nobody on your team cared to talk to you. The bald kid just slacks off. So you know you did better than Igarashi. Then why are you currently in the last spot?
When you enter the monitoring room, you only spot one person, a female. She doesn't look familiar, and if you have seen her, she's just never stuck. The woman looks stressed, with a light sweat on her complexion and frizzy red hair that's barely holding together. She's wearing a white suit with a black top and shiny golden earrings. Her heel rhythmically taps against the cold flooring, as if more stressed about something looming over her shoulders than seeing if you would see her on time. Yet with how stressed she looks, she gives you a polite smile, ushering you in and giving you a seat.
"Mr. [l/n], please come in!" She looks up, offering the first real smile someone gave you at this facility. "Not to worry you, but you've seen your ranking, yes?"
"Yeah," you nod. "Is there something wrong with it?" You peek up now nervous.
"Mm, it's about that- you don't have to make that face, I'm sure it's an obvious mixup." She laughed, covering a hand over her lips. It seemed airy and fresh like the outside world you missed. "You see, I only have data on you for one day." She takes out the tablet she's holding and shows you data under the name [l/n] [b/n]. There's a blue bar under different categories such as speed, mobility, agility, jumping, etc. But after the first day, it drops all to zero. With how unimpressive it is, you wonder how you haven't gotten kicked out yet.
"I've seen you training, so you can see how this is a problem, right?"
"Of course," you nod, trying to figure out how this could have happened. There couldn't be a glitch or anything. "Wait, I did get a new suit."
Her ears pick up, and she's attentive, listening.
"The one Ego gave me at first didn't fit because it was too large. I think I got a new one the next day too."
"Ah, that's probably why your data was also messed up. It wasn't on you properly, so it couldn't collect the data it needed." She bent down to look at the suit. "It must have picked up on you when you were using it; that's how you have your ranking now."
"Then why don't I have a higher ranking?" you felt pathetic. It knew your data yet you were still in last.
"It must have not known your name, so it didn't put you in the system. It would be strange to have a John Doe in the system."
"Um, yeah."
She noticed how down you looked and she laughed. "Let me do something. I'm sure I can fix this."
"Really? Thank you..."
"Anri."
"Thank you, Ms. Anri!"
"You don't have to call me that," she laughed, waving you off. "It makes me feel old, but thank you [l/n]." She put a hand to her chin thinking, "how should we do this?" She grabbed your arm looking at the pentagon. She began to mutter numbers and words far too complicated for you to understand while typing something on the computer. Then she grabbed a bizarre machine, hooking up its wire to the computer. She grabbed the QR scanner-like machine and brought it back to your ranking, supposedly scanning it.
"There! It should all be fixed."
You picked up the chair and sat next to her watching a pentagon slowly fill with blue. Once it was complete, you watched in awe as the 275 moved up to 270. So you were better than Igarashi.
"Congratulations [l/n]!" Anri sounded happy, clapping her hands together, giving you a smile that could rival Bachira. "Well, we're done here." she sighed, leaning back to try and stretch her back, and you were already saddened the meeting was over. She was probably the nicest person you met if you excluded Kunigami from the list. She picked up on the bittersweet feelings and gave you another smile and hand on your shoulder.
"I'm happy you warmed up to me [l/n]. You seem so stressed on the footage. Your speech is even more relaxed!" She gave you another laugh that made your stomach do backflips. "I'm better at reading people than I look. You seem like a good person [l/n], don't let your teammates get you down. Oh, and good luck in your next game with Team X."
You forced yourself back from tackling her to the ground and hugged her and let out how much of a horrible time you've had here. She seemed like such a genuine person; you wanted to see her again.
"Anri?"
"Yes?"
"Since we're friends now, you should tell me about Team X."
She gave you a funny look. Not at the fact you said you two were friends, it was the fact you wanted to know about your opponent.
"I don't think I can do that."
"But think about it. In the real world, you already know about your opponent. You look them up and know everything about their roster." you brought up a pointer finger to try and look smarter to her.
She looked at you like you had a point but sighed. "I'm only telling you this so you can go back to training..." she looked down and then up at you, "watch out for number 10. It looks like he's the heart of the team. Just observe him and find out how their team works."
"Number 10... thank you Anri!"
"Ah, [l/n]? One more thing." Before you could leave, you turned to look at her. "Don't let anyone let you down. I sincerely believe you have something in you. It's different from what I've seen. Don't let people who you don't care about take that away from you!" The way she was speaking was like she was talking to herself, not you. Like she was still angry about something that transpired before.
You smiled at her, a newfound purpose at the facility. You weren't going to let Anri down. Girls have to stick up for each other and help each other. Even if she didn't know who you were, she still stuck out a hand for you. You didn't want to let down her kindness.
With the information Anri gave you, it gave you something to work with. On the surface, it sounded like Anri had given you nothing to work with. A jersey number, his role, and what to do. Of course, her advice was like an iceberg. Seemed small and insignificant but so much more beneath. You hoped Anri believed you could decode her message if one at all.
Being the heart of the team means people do what you want them too. If you were the leader, people would follow. Now, if not, they controlled it behind the scenes. No matter what, you should watch for them. How they influenced people. Get down every little mannerism they had and every way they impacted the game.
Observing the team either meant they were put together or a total wreck. Because it's the first game, their team was probably the latter. You could only assume they would all want the ball and not work as a team. The same probably goes for your team as well.
You wanted to come up with some plan with Team Z, but you knew they probably weren't going to listen to you. Maybe if you told Kunigami and said he could take it as his own idea, they would listen.
You do want to see your teammates' reaction though. You didn't mean to be rude, maybe a little bit but who doesn't want to see people say they were wrong about you. You wanted to see how they would react to your score going up by five. Yes, it might not be the largest number, but it's still a ranking after all.
Arriving back at the team room, it was already too late, the room being empty. You sprinted to your locker to grab your uniform, putting on the number 7. You took time to admire it, as embarrassing as that was. To share the same jersey number with Ronaldo, David Beckham, and Chris Prince was something you didn't want to admit made you happier than you thought.
Your first game... and you even knew something about number 10! This was going to be a good game. You could feel that deep within you somewhere. You wonder what Julian Loki would tell you, letting your mind wander.
"Wow, [f/n], 7? That's so cool! I wish I could be like you but once we share the last name we'll have one more thing in common." That's what he would say to you as Careless Whisper plays in the backdrop of the expensive Parisian restaurant with a name you can't pronounce. Definitely. 100%. All while clasping your hands together within his own and staring into your eyes lovingly, never breaking contact because he loves you and only you and he's just waiting for you to get out of here so he can proclaim his feelings for you. You giggled, grabbing your cheek and nodding your delusions more real than ever.
But your reality came crashing back once you remembered where you were, and you ran down the hall towards the field. When you made it towards the field, you were filled with the view of the clashing colors of white and blue on the green. The stadium looked more like the interior of one of those old power plants. It was metallic with blue beams supporting the structure, lights blasting onto the field from the corners.
It wasn't like your field back home, the kids from your class that you forced to come cheering you on from the stands. You didn't have the support from your teammates grabbing your shoulder or slapping your ass to get you back in the game. But if they did, you would probably blow your cover and use that one month in self-defense you took to flip them so hard the turf would break and they would be sent to the 9th layer of hell.
They luckily hadn't started the game yet but only Isagi gave you a sign of noticing your presence, waving and walking over to you. "Ah, sorry about that [Last Name]. We were waiting for you, but you were taking a while... it won't happen again!" you couldn't tell if the look on his face was him being sorry or just pity.
"Nah, nah. You're fine, man."
"So you're okay?"
You lightly punch his shoulder, "don't worry 'bout it. Let's just beat these turd burgers."
"Right!" he paused and looked at you again. "[Last Name], we actually decided on positions in the locker room." he waited for a response or you to yell but you just waited patiently. "You, um, ended up with goalkeeper. I'm sorry! I should have taken the position, but I wanted to be the center!" he bowed in front of you, gaining the attention of your teammates.
"Ha, ha... it's ok dude..." you tried waving him off.
"Let's warm up together! It can be my way of apologizing." he seemed dead set on you forgiving him. It would be funny if not for the fact you were even here. Just the thought of remembering this wasn't your second home made you slip from the small amount of happiness you were holding onto.
"Dope," you followed him and every stretch he was doing, of course with a little more mobility. You were, however, luckily saved from doing anything too bizarre with him when the other team came out, number 10 in dead center leading them out.
"Him!" you whispered to yourself. Number 10 was the boy who managed to cram in calling you donkey, second rate, country bumpkin, and donkey shit all within a minute conversation. He also managed to call your team pathetic and second rate. Something of which you disagreed with but still felt was right deep down.
He seemed to pick up on your one hundred-yard glare that seeped into his skill. He didn't smile, give you a pity look, or flip you off or do anything of that matter. He just smirked, eyes filled with so much pride. He didn't just think he was going to win; he knew it.
«────── « Additional Time » ──────»
The changing room of Team X was filled with boys ready for their game, changing into their jerseys. A boy with a large haircut was bent over on the bench, tying his laces, almost shaking with excitement. If he was right, this was that country bumpkin's team; your team. If not for that interaction he had with you a few days back, he wouldn't care less. Just another team that he would crush with a simple flick of his foot. But now there was a point to the game rather than winning. He wanted to watch you grovel and fall to your knees, spilling apologies from your lips.
"Barou, why do you look like that? Stop, it's creeping me out," one of his teammates spoke up, pointing out the bizarre look he had on his face. Something they hadn't seen yet.
"Like what?!" he yelled, looking up to see the boy who spoke up with a flat haircut.
"Like you're about to see your girlfriend. You look so excited, it's gross."
With those thirteen words, Barou leaped onto his teammate, taking him into a headlock.
"Help! Barou's gonna kill Banku!" A teammate cried, reaching a hand out to help but flinched when Barou turned his attention to him as his next prey.
"The fuck'd ya say?! Go back to cleaning! Put away your shin guards or put them on! How hard is it to clean up after yourself?!"
"Can't... breathe..." the boy in the headlock felt the life slip from his lungs like sand in your hand on a windy day at the beach. His hand tapping the arm of his captor falling weaker and weaker with every hit.
"Banku's dying! We don't have the money for a casket!" another teammate yelled, his face becoming pale and running with sweat.
"Just gotta show some country bumpkin on the other team their place. Tch."