The weather was great today.
The vast expanse of the sky over Saitama Prefecture looked like a giant blue crystal, with not a single cloud in sight.
The only issue one might find was that the clarity of the air made the sunlight quite dazzling to the eyes.
At one of the schools in Saitama Prefecture, Ichinan High School, several students wearing the team uniform ran across the field under the morning sun.
Among them, one boy stood out—a teenager slightly above average height with a slender build, yet possessing a stronger, well-defined physique.
His hair was short and dark blue, with V-shaped bangs falling between his deep blue eyes, while a plant-shaped ahoge stood atop his head, giving a peculiar contrast to his appearance.
SMACK!
“Oooooh!” four or five voices shouted at once.
The ball ricocheted off the boy’s face and shot into the sky like a rocket.
The impact made his body fall backward, and he hit the grass with a dull thump.
“Isagi!
You alive?!” shouted Takeshi, the team’s tallest and most awkward fullback, running toward him with his cleats squeaking against the grass.
“Someone call the coach!
Is he breathing?!” “Yoichi, blink if you’re still among the living!” added Tomonori Tada as he approached, one of the forwards, already crouching beside him.
The boy named Isagi blinked as he spoke unconsciously: “I’m fine….” That reassured all the boys gathered around him.
Isagi sat up, rubbing his face as he tried to understand why his mind felt so confused.
His memories were jumbled, a strange, unprecedented sensation, as if something inside him had been violently reorganized.
It was as if two metaphysical “balloons” had burst in his brain and their contents had mixed together, forming something new.
The analogy was absurd, but it was the only way he could describe what he felt.
Even so, he remained silent, simply processing it.
Because when this new “balloon” formed, memories began to flood his mind—memories that belonged to his past life?
He remembered watching Kuroko no Basket while eating seasoned pasta after work.
Then the memory abruptly shifted—he fell to the ground, his head landing on a Blue Lock manga, choking on his food.
And then came the strangest sensation of all: his life flashing before his eyes.
An ordinary life, full of regrets.
Especially the regret of never achieving his childhood dream of becoming a soccer player, something he had abandoned due to lack of opportunity.
He ended up following a completely different path, living a simple life, graduating from college, and working at a mid-sized company.
He didn’t have a very close relationship with his family in his past life, and although he had gone out with a few girls, he never truly dated anyone.
In the end, his life was simple and somewhat lonely.
In his free time, the most he did was read manga or watch anime, though he had never been such a devoted fan….
“Isagi!” The shout pulled him back from his mind full of new memories….
“Isagi?
You’re pale as a ghost.
Are you really okay?
Want me to call the coach?” Takeshi asked worriedly….
Isagi blinked, trying to understand what had just happened.
“I’m fine, don’t worry…” he said as he stood up with a somewhat lost expression.
The strangeness in his gaze had a clear reason: he had become Yoichi Isagi, from the manga Blue Lock.
While his teammates returned to their positions and practice continued normally, he stood still for a moment, trying to process that fact.
When the game restarted and he remained standing in the same place, the coach called out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Isagi….” “Hm?
Coach…?” “You took a nasty hit.
Go rest for a bit, alright?” “But I’m fine, coach.
Seriously….” “Doesn’t look like it.
Your face is red as a ripe tomato, and you were just staring at the sky like Buddha was about to descend from a cloud….” The boys nearby tried to hold back their laughter.
“I just… got lost in thought.” “Believe me, kid.
A lost mind and a swollen nose don’t make a good player.
Go sit on the bench, drink some water, and if you feel better, you can go back to class….” The coach had worked hard to get permission from the school to pull second-year students who were part of the soccer team out of physical education classes.
In practice, those classes were replaced with training sessions, since only two months remained until the national championship qualifiers.
Since there were also first- and third-year players on the roster, training was reorganized.
During PE, students were divided into two groups: Team A, composed of second-year students, and Team B, made up of first- and third-year students who had class during the same period.
To make this possible, the school adjusted some class schedules so everyone aligned in the same PE time slot.
This wasn’t exclusive to soccer.
Students in baseball and basketball teams followed the same system, using this time to intensify training for their respective championships.
Ichinan High School was quite flexible with this….
Knowing he would have to return to class after a short break—something he clearly didn’t like—Isagi hesitated for a moment but nodded.
He needed time to organize everything happening in his mind.
“Understood, coach.” “Good.
And if anyone tries to call you for extra practice today, pretend you fainted.
That always works on Tomonori.” “Hey!” Tada protested from the back, but no one paid much attention.
Isagi gave a wry smile and headed toward the hydration area of the field, where there was a typical Japanese school setup: a long outdoor concrete sink with several faucets lined up side by side, designed so students and athletes could quickly wash their faces, hands, or drink water during training.
He opened one of the taps, letting the cold water run for a few seconds before leaning in to wash his face.
The cold contact helped clear some of the confusion in his mind.
Then he cupped his hands, took a few sips, and exhaled deeply.
Afterward, he walked over to one of the benches in the courtyard and sat down, trying to understand how he had been reborn as Yoichi Isagi.
In truth, he wasn’t even trying to find a concrete answer—he knew that was practically impossible.
At best, he could only come up with vague theories for himself.
At one point, he even considered that he might be in a coma, but the lingering pain in his face from the hit made that idea hard to sustain.
It felt too real to be a dream.
He had truly been reborn into that world.
Accepting that wasn’t difficult for someone like him, whose previous life had been simple and full of regrets.
He didn’t exactly miss what he left behind; on the contrary, there was a certain relief in no longer being trapped in that routine without prospects.
Now, the idea that dominated his mind was the opportunity to finally fulfill his childhood dream: to become a professional soccer player.
Not just that—he would go even further!
He would become the best striker in the world!
While he was thinking about this, he didn’t even notice the minutes passing.
Soon enough, second-year PE class had ended, and most students were heading to the sink to cool off.
His eyes scanned the group until they stopped on one particular girl.
Unlike most Japanese people, she had milky-white skin, so pale it almost looked translucent under the morning light.
Her almond-shaped eyes shone like sapphires, drawing attention even from afar.
Her long silver hair was tied in a half ponytail, lightly gleaming when touched by sunlight.
Features inherited from her Russian father marked her appearance, but they were softened by the delicacy of her Japanese mother’s heritage, creating an unusual balance.
Additionally, she was tall for a girl, with long limbs and an hourglass figure.
Her body was extremely well-developed, with pronounced curves and proportions that immediately drew attention.
He immediately remembered who she was, and shared memories with her passed through his mind like a film—a rapid, fragmented sequence of moments.
At the same time, strange emotions began to emerge in his heart, difficult to name or understand right away.
Her name was Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou.
After transferring to Ichinan Academy last year as a first-year high school student, she quickly rose to the top of her class.
She excelled in sports and, starting this year, would take on the role of student council treasurer.
With that level of performance in so many areas, it was hard not to see her as a practically flawless “superwoman.” While most students went to cool off or headed toward the locker rooms, the girl walked toward him.
Then, as if the scene had been carefully rehearsed, she stopped just two steps away from Isagi.
He noticed the soft scent of an expensive perfume—perhaps lavender, or something harder to identify, with a foreign touch he couldn’t name.
She leaned slightly forward, just enough to look him directly in the eyes, maintaining that firm and enigmatic shine.
“You really know how to draw attention, Isagi…” she said in perfectly fluent Japanese, but with a soft Russian accent, both elegant and cutting: “Using your face as a ball shield… I don’t know if that was a smart play or just another kamikaze instinct.” Isagi didn’t seem surprised by her teasing.
He simply nodded lightly and replied naturally: “Alya… ah… yeah, something like that.
I’d rather take a ball to the face than let it become a goal…” “Alya” was Alisa’s Russian nickname, used affectionately.
Normally, few people dared to call her that directly, especially in front of her.
And yet, Isagi was one of those exceptions.
Whether that was cluelessness on his part or simply something Alisa tolerated from him was hard to say.
In any case, despite her cold gaze and recent sarcasm, Isagi wasn’t really focused on that.
His mind was elsewhere.
In the memories of his “former self,” he knew Alya very well.
He just hadn’t realized it earlier because he had been too busy processing the fact that he had been reborn inside one of his favorite sports manga.
Alisa came from a wealthy family.
Thanks to that privilege and a relatively supportive environment, she had always stood out, developing various talents from an early age.
Even so, despite all those advantages, she had a firm determination not to be defined by them—she wanted to be recognized solely for her own effort, always aiming for the top, regardless of the path required.
Over time, she developed social skills, but her core ideals and values remained unchanged.
However, during her time in Vladivostok, her personality became colder and more rigid.
The constant disappointment and lack of motivation among her peers made her realize how complacent many people around her were, which fostered a certain unconscious condescension in her.
Noticing this, she began to impose clear boundaries in her relationships, avoiding unnecessary conflicts and maintaining a more reserved and distant demeanor.
Even so, she possessed talent and a competitive spirit that set her apart.
In high school, Alisa returned to Japan due to her father’s work.
At her parents’ recommendation, she transferred to Ichinan High School, a prestigious institution considered one of the best in the country and the strongest in Saitama Prefecture.
The expectation was simple: perhaps there would be people there capable of competing with her—or at least keeping up with her dedication to academics.
But those expectations were low.
And they were quickly shattered when she took a proficiency test right after transferring and ranked first in her year, despite having spent five years outside Japan.
Even without being familiar with the local exam style, she still outperformed everyone else.
This immediately made her stand out at the school.
In a short time, she became popular among students, treated almost like a celebrity.
Her striking beauty also contributed to that.
It was during that time that she met him.
His former self lived practically for soccer, with the goal of one day playing alongside the best striker in the world, Noel Noa.
Because of that, he rarely paid attention to anything outside the sport.
His indifference toward the Russian girl who, by coincidence, sat next to him ended up catching her attention significantly.
Although he occasionally talked with Alisa and learned a few things from her over time, the real change occurred during last year’s school festival, when he helped her….
Since then… something between them began to change.
After hearing his words, Alya sat beside him and scolded him: “You and your love for soccer… you should be more careful with injuries and cut down the time you spend playing.
You’ll end up exhausted and falling asleep in class.” “My grades aren’t that bad.
And I usually stay up late playing soccer in my backyard and then watch some videos… so I end up going to sleep later.” “You’re an idiot.” Isagi looked toward the horizon and smiled, feeling her reproachful gaze on him.
“I’m an idiot, huh?
If chasing my dream of becoming a professional striker and playing alongside Noel Noa makes me an idiot… so be it.” “Sorry.
You’re not an idiot.
You’re a hopeless imbecile.” “Looks like you’re in a good mood today too, Alya.” He shrugged lightly, playing along, while she shook her head as if to say “there’s no helping him.” Then she sighed and continued: “I know you take this seriously, but you need to take care of your health.
I bet it was exhaustion that made you take that hit.” “Hm… I’m already a soccer player, you know?” “I’m talking about a professional.” “….” Isagi sighed and, for a moment, set aside the memories of his former self.
Then he looked at her with a slight smile and said: “I promise I’ll try to rest more… but I’m surprised about something.
I didn’t know you had this side, Alya.
Worried enough to come here after I got hit and scold me… that’s almost affectionate.” Alya looked away instantly.
A faint blush rose from her neck to her cheeks, betraying the composure she tried to maintain.
She crossed her arms tightly and turned her face aside.
“Hmph.” The response came too quickly, as if it had been thrown out before the thought could turn into emotion.
“Don’t flatter yourself.
I just wasted five minutes of my time to see if your brain was still working after that hit.” That, indeed, was the classic reaction of a proud and refined tsundere, and he could hardly believe he was experiencing such a scene outside of an anime.
He even found it amusing, but at the same time felt a genuine hint of tenderness.
“So… you really came out of concern, huh?
After all, it’s not like Ichinan’s ice queen would waste time on just anyone.” Alisa pressed her lips slightly, and her eyes gained a subtle glint of restrained irritation.
Still, upon noticing his faintly tender expression, she whispered in Russian: “Милашка (Cute…)” “Did you say something?” Isagi asked, having caught the whisper with his sharp hearing.
“I said you were being an idiot.
I just came here to rest a bit before going back to the locker room.
The teacher gave us fifteen minutes, and I took the chance to see if your brain was still working.
Apparently, it’s not…” she replied immediately, feigning normalcy.
“My apologies for my wrong assumption, then…” he answered, as if he had accepted the explanation without question.
Alisa lifted her gaze with disdain, then looked toward the field and gave a small smile to herself.
In her mind, she quietly celebrated: You’re so clueless… you really have no idea!
Hee-hee!
What she didn’t know was that Isagi was watching her with a slightly strange expression.
He understood Russian.
Apparently, his former self had studied the language when he was younger, just to talk to a blonde Russian girl who used to watch him play soccer at the park near his house—something quite different from the original Isagi, who could barely speak English.
That alone raised an uncomfortable suspicion: there were too many small differences to be mere coincidence.
Perhaps there was something wrong with the Isagi he had been reborn into.
Alya stood up, her silver hair gleaming as it swayed gently with the wind.
“Well… I’ve wasted enough time here,” she said, looking at him again.
“I need to go back to the classroom.” Isagi nodded.
“Hey, Alya…” he called, in a softer tone.
She paused for a moment, already turned away.
She only turned her face slightly, enough to cast a sideways glance over her shoulder.
“Thanks for coming.
Even if it was just to check if my brain still exists.” She didn’t respond immediately.
Her eyes flickered for a fraction of a second with something between affection and a complex emotion….
“…Try not to take any more hits with your face, idiot….” she said at last, more quietly than before.
And then, with firm and elegant steps, she walked away toward the girls’ locker room.
Sunlight filtered through the courtyard trees, casting soft shadows that danced over her hair and sports uniform.
Isagi watched until she disappeared down the side corridor of the building.
Maybe… being reborn as Yoichi Isagi wasn’t so bad after all.
And not just because of soccer.
Despite being more reserved and having an antisocial side, that didn’t mean he was inexperienced with people or completely awkward.
He had gone out with enough women in his previous life not to get nervous or intimidated just because someone was beautiful.
Wait…?
Wasn’t that girl from an anime he had seen in some Instagram reels a while ago?
What was the name again…?
Tokidoki Bosotto Russia-go de Dereru Tonari no Alya-san?
If he remembered correctly, the protagonist of that anime was in a situation similar to his… a beautiful Russian girl spoke to him in Russian all the time.
He hadn’t recognized it before because, in practice, the real Alya seemed absurdly more… real than any 2D version he remembered from his past life.
But thinking about it… Had he just taken the place of that guy Kuze?!
His eyes widened at his own conclusion.
Searching his memories for any trace of familiarity with works of fiction from his previous world, he stumbled upon curious recollections—especially of a certain Kuze, who had been one of his best friends….
Following that thread, he found himself back in his middle school days.
There, he discovered something even more peculiar: he had run for student council president.
Against none other than Kuze and his sister, Yuki—a sharp, witty girl who seemed to particularly enjoy teasing him whenever she had the chance.
There had even been a certain air of ambiguous interest behind their rivalry, something he had never really stopped to analyze at the time.
And the reason for his candidacy?
Ah, of course.
He remembered perfectly.
He had heard rumors that a certain Kaguya Shinomiya (Kaguya-sama: Love is War?) intended to cut funding for sports clubs as part of a “major restructuring plan.” And that, naturally, was unacceptable.
Without understanding anything about student politics, but with absolute conviction that sports should not be harmed, he decided to run.
And he won.
Yes… he had been student council president back then.
Besides soccer, his former self had truly accumulated responsibilities in middle school, but all of that had been left behind upon entering high school.
Other familiar figures began to appear as he sifted through the inherited memories of his predecessor.
The first one that truly surprised him was Marin Kitagawa (My Dress-Up Darling), the energetic and charismatic blonde girl who, according to his memories, was just a classmate… someone he had already spoken to a few times.
But the list didn’t stop there.
He also recognized Sakurajima Mai, the legendary bunny girl senpai—and, unbelievably, the most famous student at the school he currently attended.
According to the inherited memories, she was practically a phenomenon: beautiful, talented, serious… and surrounded by a mysterious aura that made boys fall silent and avoid eye contact whenever she passed through the halls.
Personally, he had never exchanged many words with her.
However, considering her anime, he also remembered having spoken with Rio Futaba, the senpai who ran the school’s Science Club.
Their relationship was closer, though still within the formal boundaries typical of Japanese school hierarchy—something more like “frequent acquaintances” than close friends.
He also recalled having listened to some songs by a rising young idol named Ai Hoshino (Oshi no Ko), if he wasn’t mistaken.
As far as he knew, she hadn’t even graduated high school yet and studied at a school in Chiba Prefecture, not far from his own.
And those were just some of the people he recognized from the works he had read or watched in his previous life.
And there was still more.
It seemed he had been reborn into a world that was a mix of several slice-of-life anime and manga.
He felt somewhat excited about that.
Besides being able to fulfill his dream of becoming a soccer player, he also thought he might end up getting involved with several beautiful women, right?
He had never been very good at making choices, so he’d choose all that he could… That’s what it means to be selfish, right?
Anyway, he would become a soccer player in the future and have a lot of money.
Besides, polygamy didn’t seem to be frowned upon in this version of Japan—maybe that was influenced by slice-of-life harem anime.
But that was just a thought for the future.
With the Saitama regional championship only two months away, he needed to focus on improving his soccer to secure his spot in Blue Lock, which he remembered starting right after the regional finals.
Yes… apparently he had about two to three months before the project, considering that timeline….
Standing up, he stretched calmly and massaged his face.
The pain from the earlier hit seemed to have already been swallowed by the whirlwind of events.
He shook his head, trying to reorganize his thoughts, and began walking back to his classroom.
Deep down, he was still curious about how “education” worked in Japanese schools…