𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗼

three weeks later

You pulled on your shoes in the foyer of your team's housing complex, opening the door out into the crisp morning breeze. You turned over your wrist to check the time on your watch, "Shit!"

Trying your best to recall the directions you'd tried to memorize the night prior, you broke out into a sprint toward the local sport's bar. The sidewalks were narrow and it was difficult to dodge the rats scampering between gutters, but you were eventually able to make it to the spot's entrance.

Out of breath, you walked in and plopped yourself down on a stool. You watched the flatscreen in anticipation, knowing the match would have to start any minute now.

As much as you wished you could have been there in person to watch from the stands like you'd planned, viewing from behind a TV halfway across the world would have to suffice. You had to say, America had been okay. After you got the news from your coach that you'd been invited to their country's women's U-20 team, they put you on a flight the next day. First-class, obviously. Your new team greeted you at the airport and Rin's half-assed English lessons were able to hold you over relatively well.

Considering the fact you had to stay in the staff room until you left Blue Lock—a bunch of confidentially bs from being **#exposed [gasp] with receipts!!**—you never really got to say a proper goodbye. And right now, Blue Lock'll have to take the support they get.

The screen faded to black, slowly turning back to reveal the Blue Lock Eleven walking onto the field to meet their opponents. You cheered as everyone else in the bar watched on in silence, ignoring the weird stares you felt on your back. No one there was particularly zealous, since the game wasn't really an American affair, but you held no shame in your fanaticism.

The ball was kicked off and you frowned slightly at the pang of longing that hit your gut as you watched the guys run in a frenzy across the field.

Maybe you would end up missing that place.

three years later

You pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket, pulling off your gloves to check the time. 11:18. He said he'd pick me up at 11... The airport was already crowded enough and the temperature being below zero was not brightening the experience at all.

Tucking your hands back into the warm comfort of your pockets, you watched the individual snowflakes touch down on the ground as the cabs rushed by on the asphalt, everyone rushing to get home, exhausted from lengthy travels. The airport sucked. And you were stuck here for whoever knows how much longer.

You were about to text him for the fifth time to question his whereabouts before the same bright yellow antique car he had described in your message conversations pulled up right in front of you.

Bachira rolled down his driver-side window, sticking his head out of the car, "[Surname]! Get in, they're all waiting already!" he shouted. It took a moment to fully process it was even him, the only identifiable features on him being the ever-present yellow highlights under his black hair and his round yellow eyes.

Your own hair had reverted back to the way it was back before Blue Lock, no longer having to keep up the facade of a boy. In three years, you didn't think things would have changed that drastically, but that idea was shot down with a quick glance.

Not wanting to stall any longer in your shock, you haphazardly grabbed your luggage and rushed over to his car, throwing your bags in the trunk before sliding into the back seat. You looked up from buckling your seatbelt to see both Bachira and a guy with messy black hair and dark blue eyes staring back at you with grins on their faces. "Isagi?"

"Hi, [Surname]," he beamed.

"This is insane," you shook your head with a disbelieving smile on your face. When Bachira texted you a few weeks ago after one of your press conferences about a 'reunion' and that he'd already booked you a flight back to Japan, you called bullshit. There was no way he could pull something like that together.

Bachira laughed, looking back toward the road to pull out onto the highway. "I might have risk a speeding ticket, Rin won't stop spamming me about being late to my own event. Only lame people show up to parties on time, anyway."

"Oh? Is that why you left me stranded in the cold for twenty minutes?" you asked, unimpressed by his reasoning.

"Yeah, exactly."

After a half-hour in the car filled with excited chatter and catching up on your lives, Bachira pulled into a parking lot, other vehicles could only be spotted sparingly. "We're here," he announced.

It wasn't that you were disappointed, just surprised. A slightly rundown parking lot wasn't quite the venue you imagined.

You all stepped out of the car, fighting back a shiver from entering the biting cold again. "This is it?" you questioned through chattering teeth.

"What? No—follow me." He grabbed both you and Isagi, dragging you both past the thick brush to a fenced gate.

He took his sweet time opening it, trying his best to make the reveal more dramatic than it needed to be. You were finally able to see—after way too long—a simple football field, the faint lines of white spray-paint that marked the pitch and all. But, most importantly, was a group of guys huddled around centerfield, bundled up in their own respective coats.

Your face split out into a smile while the three of you walked up, hearing the quiet chatter from the group. "What the fuck is taking them so long? It's cold as shit," a deep voice spoke, and considering the language, it was probably Rin.

You stopped behind someone's back, fully aware none of the other guys had noticed that your trio had arrived. Long red hair cascaded down past his shoulders, resting on the very obviously designer winter jacket. "Boo!" you shouted into his ear, quickly backing away when he whipped his head back toward you in shock.

Chigiri stared at you with wide eyes for a moment before shaking his head with shut eyes. "Oh, wow. Hi, [Surname]. Great to see you, isn't it," he grumbled lightheartedly.

You ignored the soreness building up in your cheeks from smiling, looking out toward the rest of the group that was awaiting a greeting. They were all there—Nagi, Reo, Tokimitsu, Niko, Kunigami, Shidou, Barou, and some other guys you never really got to know. Igarashi was also there, disappointedly.

You excitedly made your rounds, saying hi and making small talk to everyone individually. It was weird, having your last experience being so long ago. Especially when that time was spent being forced to wear matching clothes and live locked in a pentagonal building controlled by a psychopath.

After a couple of rounds of the pathetic soccer you guys tried to play in tens of layers of clothes, you all sat on the grass that was damp from a light layer of snow, passing around the sandwiches Reo had brought—but probably prepared by his servants. Rich people.

"Why did you decide to do this now, Bachira?" you asked after you swallowed a bite of food, hearing the rest of the guys hum in a shared inquisition of the answer.

"Oh," he chuckled, "Because you have your first world cup soon! We had to do it before then, of course."

"No, I don't. That's in the summer—like seven months from now."

"Look, okay. Flights from America are cheapest right now," he muttered.

You nodded, wiping the excess crumb off the corner of your mouth, "Got it."

"Speaking of your career," Reo chimed in, "Do you know how fucking weird it was after you left? First, a mysterious [Surname][Name] was announced and then we never saw you again until you were plastered all over the news for joining the number one women's football team."

Residual 'yeah' and 'honestly's were rung throughout the group, all of them nodding their heads in agreement.

"That's not my fault, don't blame me."

The subject continued to change, the conversation never managing to die out. Everyone was adding in something new that had happened to them, or a new story to share—Nagi noted the multiple times neighborhood moms asked him to put on a beard that matched his hair to take Santa Claus pictures with their kids. But, even then, you couldn't help but feel that there was one last missing component, a final piece of the puzzle.

"One sec," you excused yourself, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you stepped away.

You exhaled heavily, steeling your resolve. The wind nipped at your bare fingers as soon as you peeled your gloves off, touching the pads of your fingers to your phone to unlock it as fast as you could. You opened your contacts, clicking a message string you never thought would see the light of day again.

| Itoshi Sae |

me|

are you on your way?[attached: invite.pkg]

________________________

i hope this is a sufficient ending idk this book was so impulsive i didnt have it planned out like my other ones

btw the reason for the huge time skip and it seems vague is bc i didn't want to add to much detail about who won the game or what they did after blue lock since it's not that far in the manga yet 😕