The Blue Lock cafeteria was hummed with the low drone of exhaust fans.
After the match, Kira hadn't gone to rest. Instead, he headed straight back to the training room to practice the abilities from his remaining two Trial Cards. By the time he finished, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction; his mastery over these stolen skills was growing sharper by the hour.
Stomach growling, he made his way to the cafeteria to refuel. He vaguely recalled the rules: scoring goals earned you the right to luxury food. For an athlete, this was a prime opportunity to optimize his nutrition.
When Kira stepped inside, he spotted Isagi Yoichi sitting alone at a table, looking dejected and sighing over a bowl of plain rice and fermented soybeans.
What's wrong with this guy? Is he still brooding over his performance?
Kira gave a casual wave as he walked over. "Isagi? You're still here?"
"Eh? Kira? You haven't eaten yet?" Isagi looked up, startled. It was long past the usual mealtime, yet Kira looked like he had just finished a punishing workout.
"Not yet. I went back to the pitch to squeeze in some extra training."
"You... you're still training?" Isagi felt a pang of inadequacy. After the match, he had been so drained he could barely move, yet Kira—the man of the hour—was already back at it. Just how much does this guy love football?
"Hahaha, stay here for a sec. I'll be right back."
Kira ignored Isagi's stunned expression and headed to the service window. Using the points earned from his goals, he exchanged them for two premium, sizzling steaks. The rich, savory aroma followed him as he sat down next to Isagi.
"Want one?" Kira offered with a grin.
"Whoa, steak?! Where did you get that?" Isagi's eyes practically turned into gold coins. For someone who had been living on natto and radishes, this was a lethal temptation.
Kira pointed to the notice board on the wall. "It's in the rules. Those who score goals can exchange points for rewards."
Isagi leaned in and read the list aloud. "One point for a steak. Three points to get your phone back. Five points for a high-end memory foam bed. Ten points for a one-day pass out of the facility..."
Isagi's heart raced. He wanted all of it—especially the bed and the phone. In this digital age, being disconnected felt like losing a limb.
"Stop staring and eat, Isagi. Help me out with these."
"I... I really shouldn't. These are the rewards for your goals, Kira." Isagi said the words, but his eyes were glued to the meat.
If you're so embarrassed, stop drooling, Kira thought playfully. Out loud, he said: "Don't worry about it. Both my goals happened because of your support. Consider half of this steak your assist bonus!"
"Steak?! Kira, you're playing favorites! What about us?"
"Yeah, a true leader knows how to share the spoils!"
Suddenly, Bachira and Kunigami appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the seats across from them.
"I say, Kira... you weren't really planning on finishing those two steaks without us, were you?" Bachira's mouth was practically watering.
"Haha... of course not," Kira laughed, waving them off. "I was just about to go find you guys. Good food tastes better with the whole team."
And so, the two-person steak dinner was quickly carved into four portions.
"By the way, Kira," Kunigami asked between bites. "Why did you have me help Raichi double-team Barou? I know Raichi was struggling, but we had other defenders back there."
The other two stopped eating, curious to hear the answer.
Kira wiped his mouth. "Simple. Barou is a monster. Raichi alone can't stop him, and the rest of our backline lacks the physicality to act as a proper anchor. Only you, Kunigami, have the raw power to actually obstruct his path. It was a calculated move to use your strength where it mattered most."
Kunigami nodded, satisfied. "I see. But I'm still curious—how did you manage to shoulder-tackle Barou in that final play? His physical stats are terrifying."
Kira had anticipated this question and didn't miss a beat. "He had been sprinting back and forth the entire game. By the time he reached me, his stamina was likely bottomed out. He wasn't as strong as he was in the first half."
It was a logical explanation. No one can maintain peak intensity forever, even a King like Barou.
Just as Kira thought he could finally eat in peace, Isagi raised his hand like a student in class. "Kira, I have a question. Back in high school, no one could keep up with my passes. So why did my spatial awareness—the thing I pride myself on—fail to keep up with your movements today?"
Kira sighed internally. Let's help the protagonist out.
"There are two reasons, Isagi. First: Intensity. In high school, you had time to trap the ball, look around, and adjust your posture. In Blue Lock, the moment you touch the ball, a defender is in your face. You have to visualize the path and your body's position before the ball even reaches you."
"And the second reason?" Isagi leaned in.
Kira took a bite of beef before continuing. "Your body can't keep up with your brain. You might see the opening, but you can't react fast enough. You're viewing the field as a static map, but football is a constantly shifting organism. You need to train your physical hardware so it can execute what your software sees."
Isagi looked like he had been struck by lightning. Everything he had struggled with on the pitch suddenly made sense.
"So," Kira asked, "have you figured out your weapon yet?"
"Not entirely. But I'm starting to feel... something," Isagi murmured. "During that last assist, after you shouted, I felt this premonition of a goal. I can't explain it clearly yet, but I knew exactly where that ball had to go."
Kira patted his shoulder. He needed Isagi to grow into a world-class playmaker as soon as possible.
"Aha! I knew I smelled something good! They're hoarding the steak!" Raichi's loud voice suddenly echoed through the hall.
The rest of Team Z poured into the cafeteria. "Kira, you four are cold-blooded! We won as a team, but you're in here feasting while I've been eating dried radishes for days!" Igarashi wailed.
The four of them quickly grabbed their plates as the rest of the room devolved into a chaotic, laughing chase. For a moment, Kira realized they weren't just predators in a survival-of-the-fittest experiment. They were still just a bunch of high school kids full of life.
Team Y Room.
Silence reigned. Every player was slumped on the floor, staring blankly at the walls. They were the team that had just been crushed 8-0.
The gap was too wide. They hadn't just lost; they had been annihilated. Despair hung over them like a thick shroud.
Suddenly, a figure stood up. His long bangs completely obscured his eyes.
"I have a plan," he whispered. "A way to win the next match."
The members of Team Y looked up at him. When a man is drowning, he will clutch at any straw—no matter how thin.