Chapter Text
The gates to Blue Lock High were taller than Michael expected but otherwise unremarkable. Just another expensive private school trying too hard to look impressive. The courtyard beyond it was quiet, the morning light catching on the polished glass of the windows, and students were already trickling into the main building in tidy little groups, all wearing the same dark uniforms with gold-trimmed badges. Kaiser’s first thought was that it looked more like a business conference than a school.
He took his time walking in, hands in his pockets, letting the suitcase roll behind him with a steady hum. Alexis walked beside him, slightly behind, trying not to look as tired as he probably felt.
“It’s bigger than I thought,” Kaiser muttered, glancing around with a flick of disinterest. “And uglier. Who thought navy and neon blue was a good idea?”
Alexis looked around with a judgemental stare. “It does look kind of cheap,” he said, like he hadn’t formed the opinion until Kaiser said it first. “But you make it look better.”
Kaiser smirked. “Of course I do.”
“Just remember what Noa said,” Ness added quietly. “You promised to behave.”
Kaiser hummed, not bothering to look at him. “I promised I’d make a good impression. Doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy myself while I’m at it.”
They stepped into the courtyard, where clean glass walkways linked tall, modern buildings, all steel frames and polished stone. The space felt open but carefully designed, every line deliberate. Students moved between classes in groups, conversations low and steady. There was a rhythm to it all, a sort of routine almost. To Kaiser, it all felt fake and practiced, too perfect to be spontaneous.
He watched them with a mix of disinterest and calculation. Rich kids who think they’re better than everyone, Kaiser thought. The kind who grew up with private coaches and personal tutors. Most of them probably thought they were untouchable. This time, some of them might actually be right.
Blue Lock High wasn’t just any school—it was where the best came to prove themselves. The football program topped every national ranking and became quite a phenomenon outside of Japan. The academics were cutthroat, designed to push students past their limits. And the headmaster, Ego, treated the school like it was his personal experiment. If you failed to meet his standards, he would cast you aside without a second thought.
Kaiser intended to devour all of it. Especially the school’s football team. He was determined to show them that their prestigious program and rankings meant nothing next to his game.
He scanned the crowd with quiet focus, noting how people carried themselves, who walked with confidence, and who followed. A group of students passed nearby. They didn’t talk much, but the way they carried themselves said enough. There was something in their posture, in the way others stepped aside for them, that marked them as players who had already earned their place. Kaiser took a mental note of their looks.
Near the edge of the courtyard, a few guys leaned against the wall outside the arts building, laughing at something that didn’t seem all that funny. Their hair was perfectly styled, and their shoes were clean enough to reflect the sun. They looked like they’d be popular, but not like anyone Kaiser needed to worry about. They weren’t athletes, and they definitely weren’t competition.
Two girls walked by, deep in conversation, one of them glancing at him before turning away again. He barely registered it.
“Did you see Yoichi-senpai this morning? He helped carry the new library books. He’s so sweet.”
“I know, right? And did you see that goal he scored at the end of practice yesterday? It was unbelievable.”
Kaiser’s ears perked. An unbelievable goal?
He slid his hands into his pockets and kept walking, pretending not to listen as the girls kept talking in front of him.
“Honestly, every time he smiles, I just forget what I was even saying.”
“He’s not just cute, though. He’s the best striker we’ve had in a long time. Even Sae-senpai acknowledged him. That has to mean something, no?”
Kaiser glanced at Ness. “Yoichi,” he said, thinking out loud. “What kind of name is that for a striker?”
“Yoichi Isagi,” Ness replied right away. “Top scorer in Class B. The staff say he has ridiculous spatial awareness. They call him a ‘visionary playmaker.’”
Kaiser looked at him. “You looked him up?”
“I look up anyone who might be a problem for you.”
“So you think he’s a threat?”
Ness pushed up his glasses, clearly unimpressed. “He’s overhyped. Looks good in highlight reels, but he’s reckless. Makes weird decisions. You’ll easily pick him apart.”
Kaiser’s smile lingered as they entered the main hall, where rows of seats were already filling up with first-years and other transfers. Ness walked beside him, quiet and tense, scanning the crowd like he always did. The space was bright and spacious, the kind of modern auditorium built to impress donors and scare students into behaving. A stage stretched across the front, lit with cool overhead lights, and standing dead centre on it was Ego Jinpachi.
The noise in the room died the moment Ego stepped forward to speak. He didn’t need to raise his voice. Something in the way he stood made people sit up straighter.
Kaiser dropped into his seat, arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of him. He already looked bored.
Ego’s voice cut through the silence. “The goal of Blue Lock is not to shape well-rounded students. We are not here to turn you into balanced young men with polite futures. This program exists for one purpose only: to create geniuses. If you’re here looking for a place to coast, if you think this is just another step toward a stable career, you are wasting everyone’s time. The door is right behind you.”
A few students exchanged uneasy glances. Beside Kaiser, Ness sat stiffly, fingers locked on the edge of his chair. Kaiser had heard speeches like this before. Coaches who talked big, trying to sound like visionaries, throwing around bold words to get attention. But Ego was different. He wasn’t putting on a show or trying to win anyone over. He believed every word he said, and that alone made Kaiser pay a little more attention.
“For those of you who tie your future to football,” Ego continued, his voice steady as his gaze swept across the room, “there is no place for humility. No place for fear. You are not here to be good teammates. You are here to outshine, to overwhelm, to prove that your ambition is stronger than anyone else's.”
No one moved. The silence stretched, heavy and tense, with not even the scrape of a chair breaking it.
Ego allowed himself the smallest smile, like he had expected nothing less.
“Welcome, diamonds in the rough,” he said. “I look forward to seeing how far you're willing to go.”
He stepped back as the lights above the stage dimmed just enough to signal the end. A few students looked unsettled; others sat quietly, still trying to wrap their heads around what they had just signed up for.
Kaiser stayed where he was, leaning back in his chair with his eyes on the stage. For the first time since he arrived, it felt like something was actually happening. Something worth his attention.
---
Kaiser had been placed in Class A, the highest tier of the school’s academic track, and it didn’t take long to figure out what that meant. The room was packed with third-years who carried themselves like they owned the place. The way they spoke and the way they barely acknowledged anyone else made it clear they really believed their names held a lot of power. He really wanted to crush all those posh nobodies.
Kaiser’s eyes drifted across the room and landed on the only person he recognised. Sae Itoshi stood near the window, talking quietly with a tall, muscular guy whose smessy green-tipped hair made him look like he’d just rolled out of bed. The guy had short stubble on his face, giving him a rough edge and making him look homeless. Sae looked like he couldn’t care less.
Another guy sat alone at a desk, carefully lining up his pens and notebooks like it was a ritual. His dark hair was styled high like a crown, with a single red streak running through it, all held in place by enough gel to keep it there for days. His focus was so intense it was clear he didn’t want anyone to disturb him—or maybe he just couldn’t stand things being out of place.
In the back, one guy sprawled across two chairs, hair blonde with pink ends, legs stretched out, eyes darting around like he was waiting for an excuse to cause trouble. He had the kind of energy that made people quietly shift a seat away.
Off to the side, a group of girls clustered around a handsome man with round glasses and perfectly styled dark hair. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. He smiled politely, holding a phone out as they took pictures, probably more out of obligation than excitement. Kaiser watched for a moment but then immediately lost interest.
Somewhere near the front of the room, a girl nudged her friend and whispered behind her hand, “That’s the new German transfer. He’s pretty.”
Kaiser didn’t look her way. He wasn’t interested in whispers, and he didn’t care much for the so-called royalty seated around him. His attention was elsewhere.
He leaned toward Ness, who sat one row over, already scrolling through something on his tablet.
“Where’s Class B?”
Ness didn’t look up. “One floor down.”
“That where he is?”
Ness nodded slightly. “Yoichi Isagi. Room 2B. Midfielder on paper, but most people call him a striker.”
Kaiser tilted his head, still tapping his fingers lightly against the desk. “Top scorer?”
“In his class,” Ness confirmed. “But he doesn’t follow structure. It’s like he’s making it up and somehow it works.”
Kaiser smirked, intrigued. “Sounds fun.”
“I didn’t say it was good,” Ness said quietly. “But yeah... he’s caught some attention. Yours too, apparently.”
“I just want to see what the hype’s about,” Kaiser said, resting his chin in his hand, still tapping his fingers. “That’s all.”
There was no response from Ness, just a quiet look that said, Of course you would .
Kaiser’s eyes drifted toward the door. Somewhere downstairs, Yoichi Isagi was going about his day like anyone else, probably unaware that he had just been marked. Now he was a target. Someone Kaiser would be sizing up to see if he was worth breaking.
“Let’s see what all the fuss is about,” Kaiser murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
---
The locker room buzzed with pre-game tension, but today felt different. Most of the players were already dressed and sitting on benches when the coach walked in with two new faces behind him.
“Alright, listen up,” the coach said. “We’ve got two transfers joining us. This is Michael Kaiser, and that’s Alexis Ness. Both of them will be training with us starting tomorrow. They’re benched for today’s match, but I expect everyone to welcome them properly.”
Most of the players gave quick nods or murmured something polite. Kaiser, already dressed in the Blue Lock kit, barely looked at them. Ness stood just behind Kaiser, trying to hold a polite smile. It came out a little stiff, like he didn’t actually want to be there. He wasn’t trying to start trouble, but he clearly wasn’t looking to make friends either. The kind of smile that said, "Let’s just get through this."
Kaiser, meanwhile, stepped forward like he was about to take over the room. He didn’t say anything at first, just let his eyes wander across the group, sizing everyone up. Then he spotted the name “Isagi” on the back of a jersey.
The guy was shorter and scrawnier than Kaiser expected. Black, silky hair that fell a little messily across his forehead, and two little tufts that stuck up near the top—it reminded Kaiser of a pair of stubborn sprouts. Big blue eyes, small nose, plump lips. Honestly, he looked kind of cute. Not in a way Kaiser would say out loud, but enough to make him wonder if this was really the same player he’d heard about. He didn’t look like a top scorer. Not when he was surrounded by taller, broader players with bigger frames and dangerous auras.
He was talking to another guy his height. Dark bob-cut hair with streaks of gold at the bottom, wild energy pouring out of him in every gesture. He was grinning, waving his arms around as he spoke. Isagi just nodded along, calm and polite.
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. So that was Yoichi Isagi. Not at all what he’d pictured. Which made it even more fun.
He took one step closer, eyes still locked on the smaller player.
“You’re Yoichi Isagi, right?” he asked, his voice just loud enough to cut through the locker room. There was a pause as a few heads turned toward them. The name seemed to pique the interest of other players.
Isagi blinked and turned toward him. “Yeah…?”
Kaiser gave a slow, deliberate smile. “I’m gonna call you Yoichi. That cool?”
The way he said it was casual, almost friendly, but the tone underneath was anything but. And from the way Isagi’s expression shifted, Kaiser could tell he’d hit a nerve.
He knew what it meant in Japan to use a first name like that. Especially when you weren’t friends. But he wasn’t here to make anyone comfortable. Quite the opposite, actually; he found the custom a rather fun way to mess with others.
The other players definitely caught on. The mood in the locker room tensed. Some of the teammates went quiet, a few turned fully to watch. Even the bob-cut guy next to Isagi, the one who’d been talking nonstop just moments ago, had gone quiet.
Without warning, he reached out and caught Isagi’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face up slightly. Their eyes met.
“You look smaller up close,” he said, voice low now, clearly mocking. “Hard to believe you’re supposed to be the big name around here.”
Isagi looked uncomfortable but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to give Kaiser the satisfaction.
“I hope you’re worth the talk,” he added. “Because if you’re not, I’m gonna be real bored destroying you.”
Isagi’s eyes narrowed. He slapped Kaiser’s hand away with a sharp smack, the sound echoing through the quiet around them.
“Don’t touch me. And don’t act like you’ve already won.”
The calm was gone. In its place burned steady, focused determination.
“Keep watching," he continued. "That’s all you’re good for today anyway.”
Kaiser blinked in surprise, then let out a quiet laugh, more entertained than offended.
“You're feisty. I like that.” He grinned, voice lowering. “Makes it more satisfying when I break you later.”
From the bench, Ness let out a quiet sigh and looked away, pretending not to know him. The other players kept watching, silent but clearly tense. It was obvious this wasn’t just a normal meet-and-greet anymore.
And Kaiser, for all his bravado, felt one thing settle in his chest.
This was going to be fun.