July 2014 — the heat of Madrid bore down on the Valdebebas training complex, where youth players gathered to begin preseason. Among them was a boy whose presence didn't quite fit the air of nervous anticipation that surrounded the others. He stood alone, stretching in silence, eyes half-lidded, his expression bored. At a glance, he was just another 16-year-old hopeful in a white Adidas training kit. But anyone who looked closer would see it—an elegance in his posture, a precision to every movement.
His name was Sae Itoshi. At least, that was the name he remembered.
He had died in another world.
A genius footballer from Japan, Sae had risen to the top ranks of international play before a sudden car accident took his life at just 23. But fate wasn't done with him. He woke up in this world, in the body of a Spanish-Japanese boy, a youth product of La Fábrica—the Real Madrid academy. A world where there was no Blue Lock, no Ego Jinpachi. Just pure football.
A fresh start… and perhaps, a second chance to chase the ideal football he once believed in.
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La Fábrica
The facility buzzed with energy. Coaches barked instructions in rapid Spanish. Balls zipped across the small-sided fields. Everyone had something to prove. But Sae? He was already on another plane.
In the first intra-squad scrimmage, he picked apart the opposing midfield with nonchalance. Every touch he made seemed calculated three steps ahead. He wasn't flashy—but he was perfect. Always where he needed to be, always moving to create the next sequence.
The coaches took notice.
"Ese chico... él no es normal," muttered Coach García, folding his arms. "That kid isn't normal."
Sae heard them whispering on the sidelines. He didn't care. Their thoughts didn't matter. He wasn't here for praise. He was here because this world, unlike his old one, had Cristiano Ronaldo. It had Messi. It had Zidane, now coaching Castilla. It had the kind of football he'd only read about in his past life.
Sae Itoshi wanted to stand on top of it all.
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Adjustment
The days passed quickly. Sae's Spanish was fluent—at least enough to blend in. The body he was in had grown up here, so language wasn't an issue. The bigger challenge was dealing with the culture of the locker room. The banter, the hierarchy, the ego. He kept mostly to himself.
Some players tried to test him.
"¿Quién te crees que eres, Messi?" a striker sneered after Sae nutmegged him for the second time that morning.
Sae didn't answer. He didn't need to.
He simply smiled, dribbled past him again, and delivered a no-look pass that split two defenders and landed perfectly at the feet of the winger.
Another assist.
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A Glimpse of the Future
Late July brought a training match between the Juvenil A team and Real Madrid Castilla—the B team, coached by Zinedine Zidane himself.
Sae was told he would be starting.
The match was supposed to be a learning experience. For Sae, it was a preview.
He played as the central attacking midfielder in a 4-2-3-1 formation. The moment the whistle blew, it was clear: he didn't just belong on the pitch—he owned it.
He danced between defenders like a phantom, found passing lanes where none existed, and dictated the tempo like a maestro with a baton. Zidane raised an eyebrow on the sideline. After Sae's third key pass in ten minutes, the legend pulled aside one of his assistants.
"Keep an eye on him. That one... he's different."
By the time the match ended 2-2, Sae had tallied a goal and an assist. But more importantly, he'd sent a message—the genius had arrived.
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Reflection
That night, Sae sat in the dorm window, staring out at the glowing lights of Madrid. The roar of Bernabéu was still far off, but he could feel it calling.
His phone buzzed. A notification: Cristiano Ronaldo scores twice in Real Madrid's friendly against Inter Milan.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Sae's lips.
In this world, Cristiano was still the king of Madrid. But Sae wasn't here to play second fiddle. He'd been reborn not to admire greatness… but to surpass it.
This was no longer a dream.
It was the beginning of a new legend.
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End of Chapter 1