The 8-1 victory made the whole team excited.
One day after the massacre of Team W, the atmosphere in Team V's designated training field was light. Too light.
The boys were sitting in a circle on the artificial turf, stretching. The morning session was technically a "tactical review," but it felt more like a victory lap.
"Man, did you see their faces?" Shuhei Ebina laughed, leaning back on his hands. "When Renzo scored that fourth goal, their defender looked like he was about to cry."
"We're unstoppable," Retsu agreed, grinning. "With Nagi, Reo, Zantetsu, and Renzo... honestly, do we even need to worry about the other teams? We're going to clear this stratum easily."
"We are truly blessed," Sota Nemoto nodded. "It's statistically improbable for any other team to match our firepower."
In the center of the circle, Reo Mikage stood up. With a tab in his hand, his expression was serious.
"Alright, settle down," Reo commanded. "Yes, we won. Yes, it was a blowout. But looking at the data, we weren't perfect."
He pointed to a red blotch in the midfield.
"Here," Reo said, his jaw tightening slightly. "The goal we conceded. That was my error. I got cocky, and the Wanima twins punished us. Against a better team — like Team X with Barou — that kind of mistake could cost us the game."
"Don't worry about it, Reo!" Ebina waved a hand. "We won by seven goals!"
"That's not the point," Reo snapped, though not unkindly. "The point is perfection. For the next game, we stick to the formation. 3-4-1-2. Renzo as the shadow striker, Nagi and Zantetsu up top. We control the midfield, and we don't give them an inch. Does anyone have any questions?"
The group fell silent, nodding in agreement. They trusted Reo's leadership.
Then, Rikiya Hohai raised his hand timidly. "Um, Reo?"
"Yeah?"
"Do we know... what happens next?" Rikiya asked, looking around the windowless facility. "I mean, after we pass this First Selection. What's the next stage? Is it a tournament? Do we go home?"
The question hung in the air.
"Ego hasn't said anything," Reo admitted, frowning. "But knowing him, it won't be easy. That's why we need to be ready for anyth — "
"YOOOO NAGI! YOU ARE GOATED AT THIS SHIT!"
The shout cut through Reo's speech like a chainsaw.
Every head turned toward the back of the group.
Renzo Takamine was shaking Nagi Seishiro by the shoulders. Nagi, usually limp and unresponsive, was actually holding his newly reclaimed smartphone with intense focus, his thumbs tapping furiously on the screen.
"I told you," Nagi mumbled, his eyes glued to the game he was playing. "This boss is easy if you just exploit the timings."
"That was a frame-perfect parry!" Renzo yelled, looking at Nagi's screen with genuine hype. "You didn't even take damage! Dude, you're a gaming god!"
Reo stood frozen at the front of the group. His hand tightened around his tablet until his knuckles turned white.
A dark cloud formed over Reo's head. It wasn't just the interruption. It was... them.
Ever since the last match, Nagi had been drifting. He was spending less time with Reo and more time hanging around Renzo. They spoke a language Reo didn't fully understand — video games, weird jokes, and a shared, intuitive understanding of football that didn't require words.
Why? Reo thought. I found him. I'm the one who bought him out of his boredom. I'm the one who makes him shine. Why is he looking at Renzo like that? (Sus)
"Hey," Reo said, his voice strained. "We're in a meeting."
Renzo looked up, still grinning. He slapped Nagi on the back one last time.
"My bad, Reo. Just witnessing greatness. Anyway..."
Renzo stood up, dusting off his shorts. His demeanor shifted instantly from the hyped gamer to the focused athlete.
"Good meeting, guys. Great analysis, Reo. But I'm going to excuse myself."
"Where are you going?" Zantetsu asked, adjusting his glasses. "Training is mandatory."
"I know," Renzo said, cracking his neck. "That's why I'm going to the gym. Sitting around talking about how good we are won't make us better. I gotta get back to the grind."
He turned and started walking toward the facility exit.
Nagi, who had just finished his boss fight, looked up. He pocketed his phone.
"Renzo," Nagi called out lazily.
Renzo stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"
"Can I come?"
Reo flinched. Nagi? Asking to train?
"Sure," Renzo shrugged. "But try not to die."
Nagi stood up, stretching his long limbs. He walked past Reo without making eye contact. "Later, Reo."
Reo watched them leave, the two geniuses walking side by side. He felt a cold knot in his stomach. He was the captain. He was the leader. But in that moment, he felt like he was watching his team slip through his fingers.
***
The Gym.
The Blue Lock training facility was a work of art.
Renzo didn't waste time. He stripped off his warm-up jacket and hit the treadmill.
"Warm-up," Renzo announced. "High-intensity interval sprints. 30 seconds on, 10 seconds off. Incline 15."
Nagi stared at the machine. "That sounds like torture."
"It is," Renzo smiled, the 'Crazy Smile' flashing briefly. "Let's go."
For the next hour, Team V's gym witnessed a display of physical anomaly.
The other members of Team V knew Renzo was good. They knew he was strong. But seeing him train up close was terrifying.
Renzo ran like a machine. His breathing was rhythmic, controlled. His recovery time was almost non-existent. After a set that would leave a normal athlete gasping for air for five minutes, Renzo's heart rate dropped back to baseline in thirty seconds.
He's a monster, Nagi thought, watching Renzo do weighted pull-ups with a 20kg plate chained to his waist.
Nagi joined in, though with significantly less enthusiasm. He did the sprints. He did the jumps. His natural talent allowed him to keep up, but his body wasn't conditioned for this level of sustained intensity.
"So tired..." Nagi wheezed, collapsing onto a yoga mat after a set of burpees. "Why are we doing this? We already won."
Renzo dropped from the pull-up bar, landing silently. He wasn't even panting heavily. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face.
"Get up, Nagi," Renzo said, kicking Nagi's foot gently. "Core training next."
"Core?" Nagi groaned. "Why core? I have abs. See?" He lifted his shirt slightly.
"Those are skinny abs, not functional abs," Renzo corrected him. He walked over and pointed at Nagi's midsection. "Listen. Your weapon is trapping, right?"
Nagi blinked. "Yeah."
"When you trap the ball in mid-air," Renzo explained, getting into a plank position, "you are fighting gravity and the momentum of the ball. To kill the ball instantly, your body needs to be a statue. If your core is weak, you wobble. If you wobble, the ball bounces away."
Renzo looked Nagi in the eye.
"You want to pull off those freakish moves? You want to do things that make people think you're an alien? You need a core of steel. It gives you the freedom to move your limbs independently of your torso."
Nagi stared at him. He thought about the goal he scored against Team W — the mid-air trap. He remembered the feeling of being free and in control.
"Freedom..." Nagi muttered.
He rolled over and got into a plank position next to Renzo.
"Fine," Nagi sighed. "But if I break, you owe me a piggyback ride to the cafeteria."
"Deal."
They held the planks. Sweat dripped onto the mats.
"Renzo," Nagi asked after two minutes, his arms shaking slightly.
"Yeah?"
"Is this really important? Like... really?"
Renzo laughed. It was a strained laugh because his abs were screaming, but it was genuine.
"Nagi," Renzo said, staring at the digital timer on the wall. "You are the most talented player I have ever seen. You have gifts that people would kill for."
"Sounds nice," Nagi mumbled.
"But," Renzo continued, his voice turning serious. "If you want to be the best... talent isn't enough. The world is full of talented failures. The only way to be the absolute best is for the talented ones to work harder than everyone else. There are no shortcuts, buddy."
Nagi held the pose. His muscles burned. His brain was telling him to quit, to save energy, to go to sleep.
But he looked at Renzo. Renzo, who was sweating buckets but smiling like a maniac.
"No shortcuts, huh?" Nagi whispered. "That's bad news."
Renzo chuckled. "Worst news you've heard all day."
***
Thirty minutes later, they were done.
Renzo and Nagi lay side-by-side on the artificial grass of the indoor field, staring up at the harsh LED lights. They were both soaked in sweat, their chests heaving.
"I can't feel my legs," Nagi stated flatly. "I am going to die, and you are responsible."
"Eat some protein, you'll be fine," Renzo said, reaching for his water bottle.
He took a long swig, then grabbed his phone from his bag.
Bzzzt.
A notification.
Renzo's face softened. The intensity of the "Demon" melted away, replaced by a goofy, affectionate expression that looked completely out of place in Blue Lock.
He unlocked the screen.
My Princess (Koyuki): 8-1? You guys are animals. How was it? Don't tell me you got hurt."
Renzo smiled and began typing.
Renzo: I'm alive. Don't worry, they couldn't touch me. Scored a hat-trick today. Three goals, three assists. I'm practically carrying this team. 😉
He hit send. A few seconds later, the reply came.
My Princess (Koyuki): Don't get cocky, idiot. Hyoma will catch up to you. But... good job. Did you eat? Make sure you eat properly, or I'll come there and force-feed you.
Renzo chuckled.
Renzo: I'm eating. Saving up points to come see you. The food here sucks, but the motivation is good. Miss you.
My Princess (Koyuki): ...Idiot. Miss you too. Now get off the phone and stretch. ❤️
Renzo stared at the little heart emoji like it was the Holy Grail. He held the phone to his chest, closing his eyes.
"Ew," a voice drawled from beside him.
Renzo opened one eye. Nagi was leaning over him, looking at the screen with an expression of pure disgust.
"What is that face?" Nagi asked, pointing at Renzo's smile. "You look like a creepy melting snowman."
"Shut up," Renzo kicked him gently. "It's love, Nagi. Pure romance."
"It's cringe," Nagi countered, rolling onto his back. "Why are you smiling at text on a screen? It's just pixels."
"You smile when you get a legendary loot drop," Renzo argued.
"That's different," Nagi said seriously. "That has value. This is just... gooey stuff."
Renzo laughed, sitting up and putting his phone away. "You won't understand, Genius. Not yet."
"I don't want to," Nagi muttered, closing his eyes. "Relationships sound like a hassle. Too much energy."
Renzo stood up, offering a hand to pull Nagi up.
"Maybe," Renzo agreed, hauling the white-haired boy to his feet. "But it's the only hassle worth fighting for."
Nagi dusted himself off. "Weirdo."
"Come on," Renzo slapped his shoulder. "Let's go to the cafeteria. I need steak. You need... whatever it is you eat."
"Lemon tea," Nagi said.
"That's a drink, not a meal."
"It has calories."
As they walked out of the gym, bickering about nutrition, Reo Mikage watched them from the shadows of the hallway. He hadn't left. He had watched the whole training session.
He saw the core training. And he saw the bond forming that had nothing to do with him.
Reo turned and walked in the opposite direction, his face unreadable in the dim light.