Perfection in Chaos ✦ Blue Lock

29||The Power of One

Chapter 29: Shame and Game

Song: Don't Stop Believin

Streetlights, people

Livin' just to find emotion

Hidin' somewhere in the night

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Isagi's POV:

"The following two: Isagi Yoichi and Louis Seishu shall retreat to the second stage." The robotic voice rang through the air as the top three—and Nagi—left the field.

I felt something heavy press on my chest. Not just the weight of losing... but the feeling of losing something important. A teammate.

"Isagi?"

Louis's voice brought me back. He extended his hand toward me, and I grasped it without thinking. His grip was steady and strong. Together, we trudged toward the Losers' Gate, an unwelcome path of shame.

"Phew," Louis exhaled as he plopped into a chair beside me. "Guess we're the first ones here. VIP service and all."

I shot him a look. His voice was so casual it grated on my nerves, yet somehow it was relieving.

"Yeah," I muttered, staring at the floor. As if looking down would somehow make this all disappear.

"Hey, there's a break room around here. Wanna check it out?" Louis suggested, leaning back.

"This isn't the time for a break!" I snapped, sitting up straighter. "If we lose the next match, it's over—end of the line for me."

Louis didn't respond immediately. His gaze locked onto mine, unflinching. "Then we won't lose," he said simply.

"That's not the issue," I said, grabbing at my hair in frustration. "I'm not like you or Nagi! I couldn't do anything against the top three!"

"But you scored," he pointed out, his tone still maddeningly calm.

"That was because of you guys. The reaction with my teammates made it happen. Not me," I admitted bitterly.

Louis tilted his head, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "That's... literally how soccer works?"

I clenched my fists. "If we lose... you'll get picked. Not me." My voice wavered as I admitted the thought that had been eating at me. "Even if I were in the enemy's shoes, I wouldn't pick someone like me."

Louis stood, and for a second, I thought he'd leave. Instead, he bent down, crouching in front of me.

"Cut the crap, Isagi," he said, leaning in until our faces were barely inches apart. His steady gaze locked onto mine, and I felt frozen under its intensity. "You're just overthinking this. You always do."

I blinked, stunned by his bluntness.

Then he smirked, a half-hearted smile that somehow hit harder than his words. "And you're missing the important detail" he added, standing back up.

"What?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

"First selection. Remember how we worked as a team of 11? Back then, turning a zero into a one was enough. But now..." He crossed his arms. "With fewer players, it's different. Every individual move matters. Each of us has to step up. Power of the individual is what matters."