The sky over Saitama Prefecture was absurdly blue that day. One of those days when even the breeze seemed to flow lighter, as if the world were in a good mood. But that didn't help at all when a ball came flying straight at a boy's face.
A teenager slightly above average height with a slender build, developing a stronger, more defined physique. He had short, dark blue hair with a V-shaped fringe between his deep blue eyes, and a plant-shaped ahoge sprouting from the top of his head, wearing the school's soccer club uniform.
Yoichi Isagi.
WHACK!
"Oooooh!" shouted four or five voices at once.
The ball ricocheted off the boy's face and soared into the sky like a poorly aimed rocket. Isagi's body fell backward, landing with a dull *thump* on the grass of the Ichinan High School field, a public school known for having one of the most hardworking soccer teams in the region, though they rarely won any major championships.
The Ichinan field was modest, with rusty goalposts, benches covered by worn-out tarps, and nets patched up more times than the knees of a school uniform. But for Isagi, that field was where his life truly happened.
"Isagi! You alive?!" shouted Takeshi, the tallest and gangliest defender on the team, running over with his cleats clattering on the grass.
"Someone call the coach! Is he breathing?"
"Yoichi, blink if you're still in the land of the living!" yelled Tomonori Tada, one of the forwards, as he approached.
Isagi blinked. Once. Then again. And then groaned:
"…Was it a goal?"
A half-second of silence fell over the boys before they erupted into laughter. Even Coach Saito, a middle-aged man with a perpetually hoarse voice and a shirt that always smelled faintly of coffee, smirked from the bench.
"Kid… if that was a goal, it'd be in volleyball."
Isagi sat up, rubbing his face and trying to figure out where that killer ball had come from. His nose stung, his eyes watered, and he could still hear a strange buzzing, but somehow, that moment felt… important.
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his forehead. It wasn't just physical. It was as if something was forcing its way in… or out.
The world spun for an instant. The Ichinan field dissolved. The sound of laughter faded.
And then—
It was snowing. He was wearing white. Not the white of his school uniform, but the royal white of Real Madrid.
The stadium roared with voices. Flashes. Cameras. Tension.
He stared at a nearly two-meter-tall defender and thought: "If I cut to the right, he'll plant his foot. If I fake a shot, he'll hesitate. Two touches. A diagonal pass. The goal is mine."
It was all so… clear.
And then, the sound of a frenzied crowd. His name shouted in different languages—
"ISAGI!"
The shout yanked him back. The memory vanished as quickly as it came. He was back on the Ichinan field, under the worried gazes of his teammates.
But Isagi was silent. His heart raced. His mind was in chaos.
What… was that?
It wasn't a dream. Nor a fantasy.
He remembered it. Every detail. The weight of the jersey. The pressure. The insane joy of scoring against Barcelona in a clásico. He had… played for Real Madrid?
"Yoichi?" said Tada, now crouched beside him. "You're pale as paper."
Isagi blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"This doesn't make sense. I've never… played in Europe. Never even got called up for the U-20 national team…"
But the memory was there. Vivid as a 4K match. He was a striker. A monster. Impossible dribbles, lethal finishes, superhuman game vision. And, for some reason… he had died. Still young. Never reaching his peak.
"…Reincarnation?" he whispered.
"Huh?" asked another boy.
Isagi stayed silent. His eyes, once full of doubt, now gleamed with something new.
He sighed and stood up.
"I'm fine. Just… had a wild déjà vu."
"Yeah, well, next time try using your feet, not your face, alright?" said Takeshi, laughing in relief.
But Isagi barely heard him.
Inside, his mind was a hurricane of thoughts.
"Calm down. Breathe. You've been through worse… like scoring against Liverpool at 18 in the Champions League final. Wait. What?!"
And then it hit him. The avalanche of memories now had a name, a face, and a reality.
His original name was Ethan, a Brazilian soccer prodigy who had risen after Neymar. Even more absurd and seen as the next Pelé, he had debuted professionally at 16, signed with Real Madrid at 18, and… well… died at 21.
A car accident. Rain. Motorcycle. Darkness.
Game over.
Except it wasn't.
Because now… he was inside the body of Yoichi Isagi.
Yes. Yoichi Isagi.
From the manga Blue Lock.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Is this real? I'm in a manga?!"
He looked around. His Ichinan teammates, the uniforms, the worn-out field—exactly like Isagi Yoichi's memories and the spin-off the author had written about Isagi's past…
"Okay. Breathe. You died. You reincarnated. And now you're inside a fictional character. Cool. I've seen worse isekai than this."
A certain excitement stirred in his chest.
He loved Blue Lock.
He remembered devouring the chapters weekly, discussing theories on forums, and hating Rin's selfishness. He had laughed, cheered, and cursed Ego Jinpachi more times than he could count.
And now? Now he was the protagonist.
He was Yoichi Isagi…
Then a shadow loomed over him, pulling him from his reverie.
"Isagi."
The hoarse, slightly deep voice carried the tired tone of someone who had coached more teenagers than they'd care to in a lifetime.
Coach Saito stood in front of him.
"You took a nasty hit. Go rest for a bit, alright?"
Isagi blinked, returning to the present.
"But I'm fine, Coach. Really."
"You don't look it. Your face is red as a ripe tomato, and you were just staring at the sky like Buddha was about to descend on a cloud."
The nearby boys tried to stifle their laughter.
"I just… got lost in thought."
"Trust me, kid. A lost mind and a swollen nose don't make a good player. Go to the bench, drink some water, and if you're feeling better, you can come back for class…"
The coach had gone to great lengths to get the school's permission to pull first-year soccer team members out of physical education classes for training.
Basically, he had replaced classes with practice sessions, as only two months remained until the qualifiers for the national championship.
Since there were also second- and third-year students on the soccer team, practices were split into two groups during physical education classes: Team A, made up of first-years, and Team B, consisting of second- and third-years who had P.E. on the same day. They only adjusted the class periods to align during P.E.
All first-year students were part of the soccer, baseball, or basketball teams, which had adopted this practice to have more time to train for their respective championships.
Knowing he'd have to return to studying after resting a bit and hating that fact, Isagi hesitated for a second but then nodded. After all, he needed time to process everything and could use the class later for that.
"Got it, Coach."
"Good. And if anyone tries to drag you into extra practice today, pretend you fainted. That always works with Tomonori."
"Hey!" Tada protested from the back, but no one took it seriously.
Saito gave Isagi two pats on the back and walked off with that lazy, sober demeanor that left everyone wondering if he was a genius coach… or just too tired to care.
Isagi walked to the side of the field, where a crooked wooden bench offered precarious shade under a tree. He sat down, away from his teammates, and pulled a water bottle from his backpack.
He drank slowly, watching the grass sway in the breeze.
His heart, now calmer, still pounded with memories too strange to ignore.
"Ethan… Real Madrid… accident… manga… and now I'm in Blue Lock?"
"In my past life, I died with everything half-finished."
"This time… I won't stop until I reach the top."
The breeze swept through the Ichinan field again, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and youthful sweat. Isagi, now calmer, let out a long sigh, trying to organize the memories in his head. It was like trying to reassemble a puzzle… with pieces from two different lives.
He took another sip of water, and as he lowered the bottle, he noticed a group of girls leaving the adjacent field. Physical education class had ended. Gym uniforms, soft laughter, hair tied back practically, some still adjusting their sneakers or stretching under the sun.
That's when he saw her.
As if the world, for a moment, went into slow motion.
She stood out so much that the colors around her seemed to fade.
Unlike most Japanese people, she had milky white skin, almost translucent, and her almond-shaped eyes sparkled like sapphires. Her long silver hair was tied in a half-ponytail that gleamed in the morning sun. Her distinct facial features, inherited from her Russian father, were softened by the beauty of her Japanese mother. Beyond her unique traits, she was tall for a girl, with long limbs and an hourglass silhouette. She had a body women around the world could only dream of…
Her name was Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou.
After transferring to Ichinan Academy last year as a middle school student, she climbed to the top of her class. She excelled in sports and would start this year as the treasurer of the student council. With all that talent, it was hard not to see her as an impeccable superwoman.
Isagi blinked.
His heart beat faster. And for the first time since waking up in this world, it wasn't because of soccer. Was he… nervous? He was nervous?
"I've gone out with models from Europe, Brazil, even a K-pop star…" thought Ethan, or rather, Isagi. "But none of them come close to this girl's beauty."
And then, the scene became even more unbelievable.
Because Alya looked directly at him.
And started walking toward him.
No. Wait. Is she really coming over here?!
His body froze.
His legs, freshly rested, turned stiff as logs. He thought about composing himself, sitting up straighter. But all he managed was… to blink.
And then, as if the scene had been scripted by an author with too much time to build suspense, she stopped two steps away from him. Isagi caught the faint scent of some expensive perfume, maybe lavender, or something too Russian for him to name.
She leaned forward slightly, just enough to meet his eyes with that mysterious glint.
"You really know how to draw attention, Isagi…" she said in perfect Japanese, but with that soft, charming yet sharp Russian accent: "Using your face as a ball shield… or was it more of a kamikaze instinct?"
Isagi swallowed hard.
His mind, previously a hurricane of past-life memories, was now a desert of synapses struggling to form a coherent sentence in the face of the beauty and sharp irony that had just landed in front of him.
She was really there.
Fortunately, he had a strong mental fortitude and calmed his heart, returning to a state of calm and tranquility…
"Alya… Oh, it was something like that. I'd rather take a ball to the face than let it be a goal…" he replied to the girl.
Alya was Alisa's Russian nickname, an affectionate term, and though many called her that behind her back, he was the only guy in school who called her Alya to her face. Whether he was being insensitive or Alisa was simply being tolerant was still a mystery. Either way, despite Alisa's icy stare and the fact that she had just mocked his face-plant, his mind was elsewhere.
In his predecessor's memories, he knew Alya very well… He hadn't noticed these memories earlier because he was more focused on the fact that he had been reborn into one of his favorite sports manga.
Alisa came from a wealthy family. Thanks to this privilege and a nurturing environment, she excelled and developed many talents. However, despite these blessings, she was determined not to let them define her, but rather to be defined by always striving for the top, no matter what, always working harder than others.
As she grew, she developed social skills, but her core ideals and opinions remained unchanged. However, her cold and rigid personality developed during her time in Vladivostok, where the disappointment and lack of motivation from her peers made her realize how ignorant they were, fostering an unconscious condescension within her. Recognizing this, she set boundaries to avoid conflict with those around her, making her feel distant and reserved. She had the talent and competitive spirit that set her apart.
In middle school, Alisa returned to Japan due to her father's work. On her parents' recommendation, she transferred to Ichinan Academy, a prestigious school considered one of the best in Japan and the top in Saitama Prefecture. If she went there, perhaps she'd find someone who could compete with her and match her dedication to studies. She had low expectations.
However, Alisa's faint expectations were brutally shattered when she took a proficiency test shortly after transferring, earning first place in her year, despite being away from Japan for five years. A transfer student wouldn't know the test trends; even with that disadvantage, she achieved the top rank.
This instantly made Alisa popular among students, who began approaching her like she was a celebrity.
Her immense beauty also contributed to her popularity.
That's when he met her. His predecessor basically lived for soccer and dreamed of playing alongside the world's best striker, Noel Noa, who had surpassed Cristiano Ronaldo and Messi, winning the Ballon d'Or. So, he only thought about soccer and becoming the best possible. His lack of interest in the Russian girl who, by chance, sat next to him left a strong impression on her. The original owner of his body even talked to her and learned many things over time, but the real turning point came during the school festival in their last year of middle school, when he helped her just when she needed it most… Since then… she changed quite a bit.
After hearing his words, Alya sat beside him and scolded: "You and your love for soccer. You need to be more careful with injuries and cut back on playing so you don't end up exhausted and wanting to sleep in class…"
"My grades aren't that bad. And I usually stay up late practicing in my backyard and watching videos… which makes me go to bed later…"
"You're an idiot."
Isagi looked at the horizon and smiled under Alisa's reproachful gaze.
"An idiot, huh? Yeah… 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."
"Seems like you're in a good mood today too, Alya."
He shrugged playfully at Alisa's brutal comments. She shook her head as if saying "No dealing with him," then suddenly sighed and said: "I know you work hard to become a soccer player, but you need to prioritize your health. I'm sure it was your exhaustion that led to that ball hitting your face…"
"Hm… I'm already a soccer player, you know?"
"I'm talking about a professional…"
"…"
Isagi sighed, brushed aside his predecessor's memories, looked at her with a faint smile, and said: "I promise I'll try to rest more… I'm just surprised by one thing… I didn't know you had this side, Alya. Are you worried about me? Is that why you came to check on me after I took a ball to the face and scolded me so affectionately?"
Alya averted her gaze the moment the words left his mouth. A faint pink blush crept from her neck to her cheeks, betraying an emotion her stern face tried desperately to hide.
She crossed her arms firmly, turned her face slightly to the side, and let out a characteristic "Hmph!"—a mix of indignation and a failed attempt to mask her embarrassment.
"Don't flatter yourself just because I decided to waste five minutes of my morning to see if your brain still works after a ball to the face."
She spoke too quickly, as if trying to trample her own emotions before they showed in her tone.
That was the classic reaction of a refined, proud tsundere, and he could hardly believe he was living a scene like this outside an anime. He was amused but also felt a genuine pang of fondness.
"So… you really came out of concern, huh? After all, it's not like the Ice Queen of Ichinan would waste time on just anyone."
Alisa pursed her lips, her eyes glinting with a subtle spark of contained irritation. She grabbed one of the sealed water bottles the soccer team kept on the benches, opened it with a sharp pop, and took an exaggeratedly long sip, just to avoid looking back at him.
Isagi smiled faintly at her silence and took a sip from his own bottle.
Alisa, who had been watching him the whole time, suddenly turned her gaze to the field, smiled, and whispered in Russian:
"Милашка…"
(Cute...)
"Did you say something?" Isagi asked, catching her whisper with his sharp hearing.
"I said you're being an idiot. I came here to rest a bit before heading 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, feigning ignorance.
"My apologies for my mistaken assumption, then…" he responded, acting as if she was referring to his earlier comment.
Alisa shot him a disdainful glance, then quickly turned back to the field and smiled, gleefully thinking: You're so silly! You really have no idea! Hee-hee!
What she didn't know was that Isagi was looking at her with an odd expression.
He obviously understood Russian!
Apparently, his predecessor knew Russian because he studied hard as a kid to talk to a blonde Russian girl who always watched him play soccer at the park near his house… He couldn't help but wonder when this situation started. Was it after everything that happened at that festival? Since then, Alisa had started flirting with him in Russian. It was also around that time that he began calling her "Alya."
Alya finished her water, carefully replaced the cap, and stood with her usual meticulous grace. Her silver hair gleamed as she moved, swaying gently in the breeze. She stretched her arms above her head, letting out a soft sigh.
"Well… I've wasted enough time here," she said, turning to face him: "I need to get back to class…"
Isagi stood up instinctively, as if watching her wasn't enough.
"Hey, Alya…" he called, his tone softer.
She paused, already turning away. She glanced back just enough to shoot him a sidelong look over her shoulder.
"Thanks for coming. Even if it was just to check if my brain still exists."
She didn't respond right away. Her eyes glinted for a fraction of a second with something that could be fondness, or perhaps quiet pride.
"…Try not to take any more balls to the face, idiot…" she said finally, her voice a bit lower.
And then, with firm, elegant steps, she started walking toward the girls' locker room. The sun filtered through the leaves above, casting dancing shadows on her hair and the back of her gym uniform. Some other girls called out to her from a distance, and she waved lightly, her determined gaze fixed ahead.
Isagi watched her disappear down the side corridor of the building. Only after she was out of sight did he realize he was smiling again.
Maybe… reincarnating as Yoichi Isagi wasn't so bad after all. Not just for soccer…
He looked at the blue Saitama sky, which still felt strangely light.
Wait…
Wasn't that girl from an anime I saw some Instagram reels about a while back? Hmm… What was the name…
Roshidere? Tokidoki Bosotto Russia-go de Dereru Tonari no Alya-san?
If he remembered correctly, the protagonist of that anime was in the same position as him… A beautiful, hot Russian girl was flirting with him in Russian… He hadn't recognized her immediately because, realistically speaking, she was on another level compared to her 2D version from his past life…
But thinking about it…
Did I take the place of that Kuze guy?!
His eyes widened at the thought.
"…What if this world is a mix of everything I knew? What if I've reincarnated into a patchwork universe where characters from different stories coexist without knowing it?"
Though he had watched some anime and read some manga, he wasn't exactly an expert. His soccer career took up most of his time, leaving little room for leisure. Especially since he wanted to be the best in the world and trained relentlessly for it.
Searching his memories for any trace of familiarity with anime or fiction from his past life, he stumbled upon curious recollections, particularly about a certain Kuze, a friend who shared his taste for anime. The two used to discuss the best arcs, disappointing endings, and, of course, the "correct" waifus at length.
Following the thread of memories, he found himself back in middle school.
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-witted girl who seemed to take pleasure in teasing him whenever possible. There was something in her behavior that hinted at an interest beyond school rivalry.
And the reason for his candidacy?
Oh, of course. He remembered perfectly.
He had heard rumors that a certain Kaguya Shinomiya (Kaguya-sama: Love is War?)—yes, that*
Kaguya—was planning to cut the sports clubs' budget as part of her "grand restructuring plan."
He, naturally, couldn't allow such a crime against sports.
So, with the confidence of someone who had never read a student council rulebook in his life, he launched his candidacy.
And won.
Yes, he was the student council president back then.
Surprising, right?
He found it impressive…
Besides soccer, his predecessor had student council responsibilities in middle school, but that was before Alya arrived… So she didn't see how awesome he was!
Setting aside his middle school election rival, whom he now recognized as an anime character he'd watched with his first girlfriend (yes, the world was truly upside down), he found other familiar faces while sifting through his predecessor's memories.
The first face that surprised him was Marin Kitagawa (Sono Bisque Doll wa Koi o Suru?), the energetic, charismatic blonde who, according to his memories, was just a classmate… someone he'd talked to a few times. Yes, that Marin. The one he'd seen in countless Instagram reels while procrastinating. Now she was here, living normally, as if she weren't a 2D celebrity in another universe.
But the list didn't stop there.
He also recognized Sakurajima Mai, the legendary senpai in the bunny girl outfit and, shockingly, the most famous student at his current school. According to his inherited memories, she was a phenomenon: beautiful, talented, serious… and surrounded by a mysterious aura that left boys flustered and silent whenever she passed through the halls. He had never spoken to her personally. However, within the same franchise, he recalled talking to Rio Futaba, the senpai who ran the school's Science Club. Were they friends…? Well, "acquaintances" might be more accurate, given her status as his senpai and the typical formality of Japanese school hierarchy.
Speaking of idols, he also recalled hearing songs by a rising star named Ai Hoshino (Oshi no Ko?), if he wasn't mistaken. From what he knew, she hadn't even finished high school yet and attended a school in Chiba Prefecture, not far from his…
And those were just some of the people he recognized from the works he'd read or watched in his memories.
And there's more…
When it came to sports, for example, he heard rumors about the legendary "Generation of Miracles," a group of young basketball prodigies (Kuroko's Basketball, right?) who were already making history since middle school.
In other words, he wasn't in a world where the sole focus was soccer… despite having been reborn in the body of the protagonist who, according to the original story, would become the world's greatest striker.
He needed a moment to process it all.
He took a deep breath and another sip of water.
"…Things just got a lot more interesting…"he murmured to himself with a smile.
Despite the initial shock of realizing he had been reborn into a sort of multiverse, a true crossover of worlds and characters, he was excited about the possibilities ahead.
He still wanted to be the world's best striker, as his new body's destiny foretold. But he also wanted to make the most of this world full of opportunities and familiar faces.
For now, though, he'd have to put off any plans to train or test his old skills in this new body. He needed to wait until he got home for that.
Standing up, he stretched calmly and rubbed his face. The pain from the earlier ball to the face seemed to have vanished amid all the surprises.
He shook his head, reorganizing his thoughts, and started walking back to his classroom.
He was curious about what "education" was like in Japanese schools…
_____________________
(A/N: Here's another story for you all!
This time, it's the one about Isagi Yoichi, the second most voted! 🎉
It's going to be a crossover of several anime, with a strong focus on romance (obviously), but the main plot will be centered in the Blue Lock universe.
But here's the catch: Isagi is one year ahead.
That's right, there's still a year before the Blue Lock project officially begins...
His growth will be realistic, but still impressive — after all, we're talking about a genius from another world.
If you have any suggestions for other Slice of Life worlds that would fit well into this story without going overboard, feel free to send them my way!
I want to keep a good balance between drama, comedy, and that cozy school life vibe we all love. 💙
And yes… Alya is adorable. And so is Masha.
Two sisters in exchange for becoming a Kuze?
Isagi got really lucky… 😏
Also, if you want to read up to 7 advanced chapters of the story and support the project, check out my Patreon:
My Patreon: patreon.com/Adam_Kadmon)
📚 For $5.99, you get full access to ALL content, no holding back.
Thank you so much for your support, and see you in the next chapter!)