Kuon sat staring at his notebook, full of the team's "weapons," deep in thought.
Should I build a plan that uses everyone's strengths… or just keep clinging to Ryan's leg?
Before he could decide, Ryan Hoshino stood up, reading the hesitation on his face.
"Look, that 'pass every ball to me' thing in the last match yeah, that was just me having fun. But thinking about it now… if we keep relying on me every game, I'll basically become the team babysitter."
"I might be the team's leader, but I'm not some tyrant. You can show off your own selfishness, that's fine. What I hate isn't ego… it's uselessness."
He finished with a grin.
"Alright, speech's over. You may applaud now."
The locker room filled with clapping.
After the noise died down, Kuon asked,
"So how do we actually use everyone's weapons without turning the whole game into chaos? We need discipline, not random solo plays."
Isagi raised a hand, thoughtful.
"What if we build a strategy something that gives everyone a chance to shine?"
Kuon's eyes lit up.
"Yeah… yeah, that's it! A system that lets everyone play equally.
We'll rotate the role of striker each player gets their own spotlight.
I'll call it… the 'Next Up Eleven' Strategy!"
Ryan's smile twitched.
That's such a terrible name.
Kuon continued, fired up.
"This formation will be extremely aggressive. Everyone gets to use their weapon but we'll rotate in a set order to avoid chaos.
Each player will be the main striker for ten minutes while the rest support him, arranging formation around his strength.
There's just one rule: Ryan's priority is absolute.
If he wants the ball, you pass. No exceptions.
And Ryan himself won't have to support anyone he does whatever he wants. Any objections?"
No one said a word. Everyone knew that was only fair.
After all, Ryan was the strongest in Team Z. He'd even given up full control so others could have a turn. Arguing would just make you look ungrateful.
Raichi grumbled, "So, uh, how do we decide the order?"
"By ranking," Kuon answered.
"What about positions? Constantly swapping around sounds messy."
"We'll rotate clockwise. That way everyone just shifts to the next spot, it's simple."
"Ryan stays fixed as a free man," Kuon added.
"But having ten players take turns as goalkeeper is risky," said Iemon. "For the sake of victory, I'll stay in goal the whole match."
"Thanks, Iemon," Ryan said.
Chigiri, arms crossed, added coolly,
"Then I'll stay in defense too."
Ryan sighed internally. You just don't want to work, huh, Princess?
Raichi snorted.
"Not fighting for chances means you've got no talent. Normally I wouldn't agree with you guys, but fine, I'll accept it this time."
Kuon clapped his hands together.
"Alright then! Each player gets ten minutes as striker.
So with Iemon, Chigiri, and Ryan fixed, that leaves eight players rotating…
New plan: Next Up Nine!"
Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose.
You're terrible at naming things, man. Is this really gonna work?
Later that day…
Team Z gathered on the pitch to test their new rotation strategy.
It was messy, people bumped, stumbled, argued but progress was progress.
By the end, there was a rhythm forming, a fragile but growing sense of unity.
When training ended, Ryan headed to the cafeteria.
It was late, and the big room echoed with every step. Only a few players lingered
one of them was Isagi, quietly eating pickled radish alone.
"Yo, Isagi. Pickles good?"
"Oh, Ryan. What can I say, low ranks, low rations. You haven't eaten yet?"
"Just got here. Saw you right away."
"Want some?"
"Nah, I'll let you keep your gourmet feast."
Ryan walked to the counter and exchanged a point for a sirloin steak.
In Blue Lock's reward system:
1 goal = 1 point.
1 point = steak.
3 points = your phone back.
5 points = a deluxe bed.
10 points = one-day freedom pass.
Ryan had already traded three points to get his phone back. After dinner, he planned to call his girlfriend.
"Steak?" Isagi's eyes widened, drool forming.
"Yeah," Ryan said casually. "See the sign? Goal reward."
Just then, Kunigami appeared.
"Yo, Kunigami! Here to eat too?"
"No… I came to find you, Ryan."
"Find me? Masaka don't tell me… you're confessing? I know, I know, I'm handsome, skilled, charming it's hard to resist. But sorry, man, I'm strictly into women. Tall, long hair, nice figure, gentle personality "
Isagi sighed. Why do I keep ending up in these conversations… Should I just leave?
Kunigami's forehead vein twitched.
"Can you not joke for once?"
"Cough, fine, fine. What's up?"
"I just wanted to thank you. You gave me a chance to show my ability today. I didn't score, but I appreciate the opportunity."
Ryan chuckled.
"You really are a straightforward guy, huh? You're making me blush."
"I believe in fighting fair. My dream is to become a superhero through soccer." Kunigami's eyes burned with sincerity.
"When I was a kid, I didn't idolize power rangers or robots. I admired real strikers.
The ones sprinting across the pitch for victory.
They gave me courage and hope. I want to be like them
A hero who fights honestly for his dream, no matter what."
Ryan blinked. Who asked for a full NPC monologue? And pretty sure that's not what 'airhead' means, man.
But Isagi, listening nearby, felt a spark ignite inside him. Kunigami's words carried a conviction he lacked himself.
Ryan smiled suddenly.
"Alright, enough talk. You two want some steak? My treat."
"Wait, really?" Isagi's eyes gleamed he hadn't had meat in days.
"Of course! We're brothers here." Ryan sliced the steak, splitting portions onto their plates.
"Here, Kunigami, don't be shy."
"Thanks, Ryan. You're a good guy."
The two of them took a bite, eyes widening in pure joy.
"Umai!!! (So good!!)"
Ryan grinned at their reactions, leaning back in his chair.
"Heh… tastes like victory, huh?"