A few days later, the skies above Saitama dawned clear, painted in a soft blue that promised a sunny day.
At Ichinan High School, the soccer team’s locker room was already consumed by the usual pre-match chaos.
The sound of zippers closing, the sharp impact of cleats against the floor, and the constant buzz of conversations and friendly teasing echoed through the pale walls, creating an electric atmosphere of anticipation.
Isagi sat in one of the corners, calmly tying his cleats with calculated composure.
The new white uniform, accented with subtle black details, fit his body perfectly.
The number eleven on his back still looked freshly applied, reflecting the cold light of the locker room lamps.
In truth, the uniform really was brand new, delivered only that day and reserved for the starters who would play in the friendly match scheduled for that morning.
He could not help but drift back to what had happened a few days earlier between him and Alya, after that kiss.
Since then, Alya had been trying to avoid him as much as possible, which in practice proved nearly impossible since the two sat next to each other in class.
Every lesson became an exercise in silent tension, with her averting her gaze whenever he tried to start a conversation.
After a great deal of persistence and a series of difficult conversations, the two had started dating… although they still had not told anyone.
But there was one critical issue that still had not been resolved.
His desire to have multiple girlfriends at the same time.
That detail, obviously, had not yet been discussed clearly between them and, considering the situation, it was only a matter of time before it exploded into a far more serious conversation than he wanted to deal with.
He was, in the end, far too selfish to give that up.
He wanted more than one woman at the same time.
He could easily be seen as a scumbag or an asshole and, in a certain sense, maybe he truly was, but he simply did not care about that judgment.
To him, what mattered was his own desire, not the way others would judge his choices.
A smile appeared on his lips when he finished putting on his cleat.
Already dressed and ready, Tada tossed a towel in his direction.
“Hey, Isagi, stop daydreaming, man!
Coach’s gonna rip your head off if you’re late for warm-ups.” Isagi caught the towel effortlessly, without any hurry.
“Relax, we still have time.” “That’s right, let our star player rest before the match!” one of the players from the back of the locker room commented, drawing a few laughs.
“Rest, my ass,” another replied while tying his hair back.
“This guy was still practicing shots after sunset yesterday.
He’s trying to become an anime protagonist now.” “He already acts like one,” someone added jokingly.
“All that’s missing is him narrating his own thoughts in slow motion.” “Oi, I heard that,” Isagi replied without even looking up, making the group laugh once again.
Tada let out an exaggerated sigh and crossed his arms.
“You guys are feeding his ego way too much.
Soon he’ll start thinking he can dribble through the entire opposing team by himself.” “But he actually can sometimes,” another player commented.
“And that’s exactly the problem!” Tada immediately shot back.
“One day he’s gonna try that against some giant defender and end up buried in the grass.” “You sound worried,” someone teased.
“Of course I am,” Tada replied without hesitation.
“If our star striker gets crushed before the tournament, who’s gonna carry you idiots on his back?” “Look who’s talking,” another boy laughed.
“You spend half the game running after Isagi trying to keep up with his plays.” Tada immediately pointed at his teammate.
“That’s called teamwork, idiot.” “No, that’s called desperation,” came another response… Laughter filled the locker room, light and genuine.
That mixture of nervousness and excitement before a match always made the heart beat faster.
But everyone was confident!
Especially when looking at the boy wearing the number eleven jersey, sitting there so casually.
Almost two weeks ago, Isagi Yoichi had been merely a good player.
Not the best, not the worst, just someone talented with good field vision.
But suddenly, everything changed.
No one could say exactly what happened.
Maybe he had trained in secret, maybe he had simply “woken up different” one day.
The fact was that, within a matter of weeks, Isagi went from being a promising striker to something none of them could truly comprehend.
During practice, he began playing purely for fun, sometimes as a defender, other times as a midfielder, and even as a goalkeeper.
But no matter the position, he was always the best…
The coach, who preached the philosophy of “one for all and all for one,” believing in the strength of a united team, saw his beliefs shaken completely.
It all started when Isagi, playing goalkeeper during one of the internal practice matches, caught the ball with his hands, surveyed the entire field… then dribbled past the entire opposing team and scored a goal himself.
The entire field fell silent.
The coach, who usually shouted about teamwork, simply held the whistle between his teeth, speechless.
From that moment onward, there was no more debate.
Isagi became the undisputed best player at Ichinan High School, regardless of position.
And even if his style of play was the complete opposite of what the coach taught, no one could deny reality: he was simply too good to leave on the bench.
And so, almost naturally, the entire team began revolving around him.
The title of ace came first.
The captaincy followed shortly after.
The coach never said it out loud, but he had already accepted the truth: no matter how much he disliked the selfish way Isagi played, that boy was the soul of the team, the kind of player who changes the fate of an entire squad.
And now, with the friendly match about to begin, everyone knew: as long as Isagi was on the field, Ichinan’s victory was merely a matter of time….
The sound of a whistle echoed through the locker room, instantly cutting off the laughter.
The coach entered with firm steps, a dark blue cap on his head and his usual serious gaze.
The kind of look that made even the most playful player straighten up.
“Alright, boys…” he began, his voice deep and direct.
“Today’s friendly is against Minamida High School.
They came all the way from Kanagawa, and I want to see you giving it your all.
They didn’t come here for sightseeing.” “Minamida…” Takeshi muttered while scratching his head.
“Aren’t they the ones who got second place in the Winter Cup?” “Exactly,” the coach replied, crossing his arms.
“They play a 4-3-3 formation, press high, and exchange quick short passes.
Their captain, Hayato Aizawa, is a creative midfielder.
Don’t underestimate him.
Give him space, and he’ll create plays even in the middle of a fire.” “Nice…” Tada laughed.
“Then we just don’t give him space.” “I’d like to hear you say that after five minutes of chasing the ball,” the coach shot back, the corner of his mouth threatening a smile.
He blew the whistle again and continued: “Now let’s move!” The boys exchanged looks and, little by little, the playful atmosphere gave way to that electric pre-game energy.
Their cleats struck rhythmically against the floor as the group lined up and headed outside.
The late-morning sun greeted them with warm light, and Ichinan Academy’s main field looked ready for a final match: flawless grass, freshly painted lines, and stands packed with excited students.
Three days earlier, the school had officially announced “School Integration Day,” an initiative created to promote sportsmanship and unity among students, teachers, and school clubs.
The idea arose after the confirmation of the friendly match against Minamida High School, one of Kanagawa’s most prestigious schools, known for the high technical level of its sports teams.
The administration saw the occasion as a perfect opportunity to strengthen Ichinan’s image, both internally and externally.
With the event scheduled, all morning classes had been suspended.
In their place, students were invited—practically ordered—to attend the match and support the school’s main soccer team.
The school distributed small pamphlets and black-and-white flags, and even the teachers were instructed to attend, participating as part of the support and organization staff.
The field, usually silent on ordinary days, had been prepared in advance.
The stands were cleaned, sound systems were installed, and the student announcer, a member of the broadcasting club, received permission to narrate the game live.
Everything had been arranged to turn that friendly match into a spectacle.
For many students, it was merely a disguised holiday, a chance to skip classes guilt-free… The result was a packed, vibrant, and noisy stadium.
Seated in the area reserved for student council guests, Kaguya kept her hands delicately folded over her lap, trying to appear calm.
However, her gaze remained fixed on the figure that had just emerged from the players’ tunnel—Isagi.
She had managed to get closer to him since that student council dinner he attended.
She had even managed to get his phone number, something she considered a small personal victory.
Of course, she needed Hayasaka’s help to better understand social media, since she had never been very connected to technology.
Even so, the effort had been worth it.
She had truly managed to get closer to him, something she had been trying to do for the entire past year.
Just thinking about it made her heart race, and the flawless composure she always maintained faltered for a moment, revealing a faint blush on her cheeks.
Hayasaka had said the “next step” was inviting him out somewhere, something that sounded far more terrifying than it should have.
Admitting to herself that she wanted to do that had already been difficult enough; after all, her pride was far too high to allow something so direct.
Deep down, she wanted him to confess first.
She wanted Isagi to look at her with that calm smile and say, without hesitation, what she herself had been trying to hide from everyone, perhaps even from herself.
Still, no matter how much she fought against those feelings, the truth was simple and undeniable: she wanted to be by his side.
She wanted to stay with him forever, even if she never had the courage to say it out loud… A few rows below and slightly to the left, Alisa watched the field with narrowed eyes.
Their usual brightness seemed slightly dimmer, as though something was deeply bothering her, and indeed… realizing that Isagi would attract the attention of many girls in the stands had irritated her.
She crossed her arms tightly, looking away for a moment before murmuring in Russian, in a low, almost sulky tone: “Я его девушка…” (“I’m his girlfriend…”) Her voice came out soft, almost inaudible, but the Russian carried a subtle venom, the kind of childish resentment only someone genuinely in love could disguise.
Beside her, her sister Maria, known to everyone as Masha, leaned slightly closer, curious.
Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of concern and amusement.
“Hmm?
What did you say, Alisa?” “Nothing,” Alya replied quickly, without taking her eyes off the field.
“Are you sure?” Masha insisted, pouting slightly.
“It sounded like… jealousy.” Alya crossed her arms, looking away, her face slightly red.
“You must’ve heard wrong.” “Oh, really?” Masha’s tone carried that teasing sweetness only an older sister could use without sounding malicious.
Alya pretended not to hear her.
While her younger sister silently drowned in jealousy, Masha sighed softly, resting her chin on her hand as she watched the field.
“Sa-kun… good luck…” she thought, a gentle blush coloring her cheeks.
Meanwhile… Seated a few rows higher, Yuki observed the field attentively, her legs elegantly crossed.
Her expression, normally composed and serene, now held something different—a subtle tension in her lips, an uncomfortable gleam in her eyes.
“…Tsc.” She tightened her grip on the edge of her skirt, looking away.
The gentle wind played with her dark hair and, for a moment, she tried to appear indifferent.
After all, a proper lady would never display something as trivial as jealousy in public.
But the blush on her cheeks betrayed her completely.
Kuze noticed immediately.
“Oh?
Don’t tell me my dear little sister is… jealous?” he asked teasingly, a lazy grin forming at the corner of his lips.
“Don’t be foolish, Masachika,” Yuki replied in the calm, refined tone she always used whenever she tried to hide her emotions.
“I merely think Isagi is going to attract a lot of attention from the girls in the stands…” “That just proves my point.
Don’t tell me you’re giving up already…” he continued, resting his chin on his hand.
The young woman froze for a brief moment, her gaze wavering.
Then she took a deep breath, recomposed herself, and raised her chin proudly once more.
“…What kind of heroine gives up just because she has many rivals?” Kuze blinked in surprise before bursting into laughter.
“Well, would you look at that… so this is a heroine war now?” “It’s not a war,” Yuki retorted, crossing her arms.
“It’s… fair competition.
Each girl with her own charms.” She tried to sound confident, but the glow in her eyes revealed something more: a shy yet unwavering flame of determination.
Because, despite all her pride, Yuki Suou was, deep down, a hopeless otaku.
And she knew very well what happened in stories where the heroine gave up too early.
The girls who lowered their heads ended up forgotten.
The ones who fought until the very end achieved their happy ending.
And she definitely had no intention of becoming a mere side character in Isagi Yoichi’s story.
Kuze laughed again, shaking his head.
_____________________ (A/N: First of all, thank you for reading this story.
Your support there also helps a lot in keeping the story updated consistently.
I hope you continue enjoying Isagi’s completely cursed new life in this crossover world.)