[Blue Lock] >
"THE CHOICES WE MADE IN THE PAST ARE WHAT GAVE US THE CHANCES WE HAVE TODAY."
The only thing Jin Saito has ever wanted was to become the best female striker in Japan. So when she's given a special opportunity to attend the elite new c...
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~~~
"BECAUSE I'M A GIRL, YOU DUMBASS!" I shouted, fed up with his whining. "I'm not going to take off my shirt because I'm a fucking girl, Raichi! Now would you shut the fuck up? Please," I added as a side note, leaning back on my right hand and closing my eyes in frustration.
A silence so loud you could have heard a pin drop blanketed the field. Even the other team had stopped their quiet discussion off to the side, now staring at me in disbelief. I gritted my teeth, pushing down the rising feeling of embarrassment. Because what really was there to be embarrassed about?
Kunigami's cheeks were tinted pink and I was painfully aware that Isagi's face had turned bright red. I tried not to take it personally when he wouldn't meet my gaze.
Bachira touched my back softly, reassuringly, which I'm positive nobody missed, only working to make my irrational anger burn brighter inside of me. But just at that moment, the medical team came rushing onto the field, riding on the back of an injury cart.
Saved by the bell, I thought humorlessly.
The med team, to my dismay, consisted of three males looking to be around the ages of twenty-five to thirty. I was really getting tired of being the only girl around. They hurried off the cart and over to my side, one of them carrying a large bag which I could only assume held medical equipment.
"Stand back please," the taller of the three spoke, shooing back my teammates, which I was somewhat grateful for. I wanted to delay any further interaction I had with the boys for as long as possible.
But I knew I would have to face them again eventually. I'd dug myself a grave and my time would eventually come when I needed to lay in it.
The man carrying the medical bag squatted down in front of me and began asking a bunch of questions, which were obviously meant to figure out the problem so they could help me, but only succeeded in making me anxious. My adrenaline was beginning to wear off, leaving me exhausted while the pain in my shoulder only seemed to worsen.
"Okay," the man said at last. "Let's get you back to the clinic so we can treat your arm. I'll help you onto the cart."
"I can walk," I stated automatically, but it was as if no one heard me. The man helped me to my feet, settling me into the backseat of the cart.
I kept my gaze trained on my lap as we drove off into the facility.
~~~
I was hardly listening to the doctor as he wrapped my shoulder and placed it in a sling, warning me about how I needed to be careful and all that crap. My attention instead was focused solely on the screen mounted on the wall, where I watched my teammates fight to remain at Blue Lock. Secretly, I hoped they were fighting a little for me too.
"...and of course, you won't be able to play for the next week or so."
"What?" I whipped my head around to face the doctor as he scribbled something down on his clipboard.
