Chapter 58: The White Team Advances First
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Blue Lock Training Pitch – Kickoff
Drop! Kickoff!
"I'm on…"
Yūshin Zeya tapped the ball to the right, calmly feeding Rin Itoshi, who immediately accelerated with his trademark composure.
"No.2 Itoshi Rin… I'll take you down first."
Shidō Ryusei charged toward him, foot cocked for a reckless steal.
"You're dreaming, golden cockroach," Rin said flatly.
With flawless balance, Rin placed his palm against Shidō's chest, spun his body with a tight Marseille turn, and breezed past him in one swift motion.
"Wha—?!" Shidō blinked. "Didn't think you'd be that clean."
Ahead, Isagi and Kuon stepped in to intercept. Rin, reading their positions like a puzzle, dropped the ball back to Hiori Yo.
"Over to you."
Hiori accepted it without hesitation, scanning the field like radar. "Nanase's free."
His pass flew like a laser to Nanase on the left wing.
"Nice one! Let's hit them first!" Nanase shouted, controlling it.
But—
Whoosh!
A shadow cut across the field.
"This one's mine~" came the voice.
Yūshin Seiichi blitzed in from the blind spot and took the ball clean off Nanase's feet.
"Wait, huh?!" Nanase tripped mid-stride.
"You didn't mess up. I just took it," Seiichi said, already sprinting away.
"He predicted our whole sequence," Hiori muttered, keeping pace. "He baited Nanase two steps ago."
"He's the only player I've met without a single weakness."
⸻
Midfield Clash – Zeya vs. Seiichi
As Seiichi powered forward, a lone figure appeared in his path.
Zeya.
Their eyes locked. Gold and storm-blue clashed with electric weight.
"You again?" Seiichi smirked. "You know, sulking doesn't suit you."
Zeya didn't answer. He simply adjusted his stance.
From behind, Isagi called out, "Seiichi! Over here! Let's combine—"
"No thanks." Seiichi didn't even glance back. "I've got this."
He burst left with a signature buddy feint.
Zeya stayed with him.
Seiichi twisted again, faking a right cut. Zeya pressed in, hand on Seiichi's shoulder.
"Your hair's bouncing too much," Zeya said calmly.
"It's called style."
"It's called a weakness."
"…Still rude."
Seiichi dropped low, shifted his body, and pivoted sharply on his plant foot.
Step.
Zeya predicted the move—but his recovery window was slim.
In that fleeting 0.5-second gap—
BOOM!
Seiichi struck with the outside of his boot. The ball arced like a whip, slicing toward the top-right corner.
THWACK!
It kissed the post.
DING!
Goal!
Blue Lock White Team scores! 1–0!
Field Reactions
Isagi stared wide-eyed. "That's what I'm trying to catch up to…"
Shidō cracked his knuckles. "Cute warm-up, Shi-Shi."
Seiichi turned toward Zeya with a cocky grin. "Did you clap for me yet?"
Zeya retrieved the ball from the net in silence.
His light blue eyes shimmered—then began to glow.
Faint static flickered across his pupils.
He walked back to the center without a word.
It was his turn now.