Chapter 127: The Halftime Whistle
Itoshi Sae glanced at the two defenders closing in on him, his shoulder suddenly dropping to the right.
"Left! Bachira!"
"I'm on it!"
Isagi and Bachira lunged, certain Sae was about to explode past Bachira's left side. They adjusted their center of gravity in perfect sync, only to realize they'd been played. With a sudden shift in momentum, Sae threaded himself right through the tiny gap between them.
Once clear, he didn't hesitate. He whipped a cross into the box without a hint of emotion on his face.
"Dammit! That line is too sharp!"
"How are we supposed to track that?!"
Sendo was cursing as he scrambled to catch up to Sae's delivery. A legendary playmaker required a legendary finisher to make the magic work, and in Sendo's eyes, the pass was simply too fast. He didn't consider that if the angle weren't that tight, it never would have pierced the defense in the first place.
Just as Sendo reached for the ball, Rin tore into the space from his blind side.
"You think you can be number one with a reach like that?" Rin roared, his voice filled with venom. "Keep dreaming, you old bastard!"
Rin threw his whole body into a sliding clearance, obliterating the chance.
"Out of my way..." Sae muttered, his indifference finally cracking into annoyance. "Annoying little brother."
Sae sprinted toward the loose second ball. But another shadow was already there, arriving a fraction of a second earlier. It was Kira.
"You're a little late to the party," Kira said, planting his foot.
"Is that so?"
Sae ignited, his speed surging as he lunged for the ball, his foot clashing with Kira's in a violent scrap for possession.
Tch.
Kira gritted his teeth. Sae was playing with a desperate edge now. Kira didn't back down, his own leg snapping out to match the force.
Thump.
The ball was pinched between their boots, spiraling away in a bizarre, erratic arc as they both tumbled into each other, grabbing and shoving for any advantage.
Beep! Beep! BEEP!
The referee's whistle cut through the tension. Halftime.
"And that's the half! The Japan U-20 National Team has failed to crack the Blue Lock defense!"
"The score is 2-0, Blue Lock. Natsuki, what are we looking at here? How does the U-20 even begin to adjust for the second half?"
What am I looking at? I'm looking at a disaster.
Natsuki was speechless. The U-20 strikers were fundamentally incompatible with a genius like Itoshi Sae. It was like trying to put a jet engine on a bicycle—it wasn't going to fly; it was just going to fall apart. The bike simply didn't have the wings for it.
But as a professional analyst, he had to keep up appearances. "Well... as we saw in those final moments, the U-20 was starting to find their rhythm. If it weren't for the clock, they might have found the net."
"I'm sure both teams are fairly evenly matched. The second half is going to be a total war. I expect the U-20 to make some massive tactical shifts to deal with Kira..."
He continued rambling, spouting lines he didn't even believe himself.
***
On the pitch, the Blue Lock players were ecstatic.
"Hell yeah! We held them!"
"We're leading! The National Team is nothing!"
"U-20? More like U-Sucks!"
The Blue Lock Eleven were shouting, the memory of the crowd's initial taunts still fresh in their minds. They had walked into a lion's den and started pulling teeth. A 2-0 lead against the country's elite was a statement the world couldn't ignore.
'Tch... you guys having fun yet?'
On the U-20 bench, Shidou's eyes were wild with impatience. He looked like a caged animal watching a feast he wasn't allowed to join.
"Oh my god, honey, is the half over already?"
Isagi's parents were in the stands, clutching their programs.
"Look! Number 11! That's our boy!"
Isagi's father was busy bragging to the strangers in the next row, so excited he completely ignored his wife's question.
"Hey!"
Suddenly, a woman stood up behind them, cupping her hands and screaming toward the pitch. "Meguru! What are you doing?! Score a goal already! You call yourself the world's best striker with a performance like that? Get moving!"
It was Bachira's mother.
"Wait, wait—your son is out there too? Which one?"
"The best one! Number 8!"
"No way! Our boys are on the same team!"
The parents immediately started swapping stories, the tension of the match momentarily replaced by suburban pride.
"Hyoma! Hyoma, look over here!"
Two "girls" were waving frantically from the front row. Chigiri looked up, saw them, and immediately looked down, his face turning a bright shade of red.
Karasu followed his gaze and whistled. Two redheaded hotties.
"Who's that, Chigiri? Don't hold out on us," Kira teased, nudging his teammate.
"Ugh, it's my sister and my mother. This is so embarrassing."
Sister and mother? Kira took another look. The family genes were definitely top-tier.
'Hey, Chigiri,' Kira thought, a smirk playing on his lips. 'If you ever need a brother-in-law, I might be available.'
***
In front of a TV miles away, Rinko was beaming.
"Unbelievable. Two goals in one half," she whispered.
Watching Kira dominate on the screen filled her with a pride she couldn't put into words. He was doing exactly what he said he would do. He was becoming a star.
***
In a private tunnel behind the VIP section, the JFU Chairman stared at Coach Yasumori Hoichi with dead, predatory eyes.
Hoichi was sweating through his suit. "Sir, please, I can explain—"
"Hoichi."
The President's voice was like a cold razor. "I believe I made myself clear. Winning was the only option."
"I-I know, sir! But they're more resourceful than we anticipated—"
Buratsuta raised a hand, silencing him instantly. "Do you think I care about your excuses? I care about results."
"This match was supposed to be the launch of the Itoshi Sae brand. If we lose this game to a bunch of nobodies, you can pack your bags. You're finished in this industry."
Without another word, Buratsuta turned and walked away, leaving Hoichi trembling in the shadows.
***
Inside the U-20 locker room, the air was toxic.
"This is bad..." Teppei Neru muttered, staring at the floor. "Two goals down in forty-five minutes. This isn't how it was supposed to go."
Niou looked grimmer than usual. "What's the play for the second half? We need a total overhaul."
"It's my fault," Sendo said, clutching his head. "If I had just finished those chances..."
"Sae? You're back?"
Niou looked up as Sae entered the room. "We were just about to talk strategy."
"The final minutes were promising," Kitsunezato added. "Maybe we should tell the coach to push the line higher. If we overwhelm them—"
"That's your problem. It has nothing to do with me anymore."
Sae was already pulling off his jersey.
"What? The game isn't over yet!" Niou shouted, looking at him in disbelief.
"I'm leaving."
Sae said it so casually it felt like he was announcing a lunch break.
"Are you insane? What are you talking about?!" Niou was practically fuming.
"Why do I care?"
Sae pointed toward the corner where Aiku sat silently, his head down. "I only made a bet with your captain. He wanted to see what kind of change I could bring to the U-20, so I showed him."
"And the result is this. The U-20 strikers are defective parts. They're useless to me. That's the reality."
Sae's words were a cold, hard truth that cut through the room like a knife. He was calling them out for what they were: uninspired and outclassed.
"Aiku?" Niou looked at his captain, confused.
Aiku didn't move.
Sae continued. "I only came here because I was curious about Blue Lock. They're unpolished, but their vision and their hunger are on a different planet compared to yours. I have my answer now. There's no point in playing out the string."
"See ya, boys."
Sae grabbed his bag and headed for the door.
"Hold on, genius."
Aiku finally spoke. He looked up, and for the first time, his face wasn't a mask of calm. He looked at his teammates—at the fear and the confusion on their faces—and he took a deep, shaky breath.
"I'm sorry, guys. I made a bet on my own. I wanted to see where we stood. I wanted to see if we were actually as good as the media said we were."
"And now I get it. I see the gap."
Aiku's expression shifted. The bitterness vanished, replaced by a wild, manic energy. He looked like a man who had just found something worth fighting for.
"We're weak. We're pathetic."
He started to laugh, a low, genuine sound of excitement.
Sae stopped in his tracks and looked back. For the first time all day, he looked interested.
Oliver Aiku was finally waking up.
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