The sun beat down on the wide-open beach, golden light bouncing off the endless waves.
A soft breeze stirred the salt in the air, blending with the sharp scent of the sea.
Seiko Kyotūkaba moved barefoot across the sand, the worn soccer ball glued to his foot as if by magic.
His muscles flexed and relaxed with each subtle touch — the ball never once slipping away.
He weaved small patterns, light and fast, the sand adding a stubborn resistance to every step. Sweat trickled down his bare chest, clinging to the sharp lines carved by two years of relentless training. He wore only a pair of plain black shorts, his skin kissed by the sun, his body moving in rhythm with the waves.
A heavier touch sent the ball spinning forward.
Seiko chased it down in a blur, stopping it dead with a gentle press of his sole.
He planted his foot firmly on top of the ball, breathing hard, and let his gaze drift.
Ahead of him, the ocean stretched far beyond the horizon, crashing in white bursts against jagged rocks.
The roar of the waves filled his ears — constant, powerful, endless.
For a moment, Seiko stood still, the ball pinned beneath him.
His mind wandered, uninvited.
Mom...
The image of her lying weakly in a hospital bed flickered in the back of his mind — a haunting contrast to the vivid life around him.
Her laughter once filled rooms. Her energy once matched the sea itself.
Now, every breath she took was a fight against time.
Every second Seiko spent here, training, was another second stolen back from the grip of fate.
I have to make it.
No matter what it costs.
Before the weight could pull him under, a burst of shouting snapped him back.
"Oi, Seiko!"
He turned just in time to see five figures jogging toward him from down the beach, kicking up clouds of sand.
Jin, the tallest of the group, was waving a hand wildly above his head.
Ryoma was right behind him, a cocky grin on his face.
Trailing after them were Hana, Nami, and Rose — the three girls laughing and shouting over each other, carrying a cooler and towels.
The quiet moment vanished, swallowed by their energy.
Seiko bent down, scooped up the ball under one arm, and walked toward them — a small, rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Seiko pulled each of them into a quick hug, the kind of greeting born from years of easy friendship.
With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he stepped back, letting the ball drop to the sand.
"Yoo, you guys finally made it," he called out, eyes gleaming. "Ready to lose or what?"
Without waiting for an answer, he rolled the ball under his left foot, stopping it dead.
In a smooth motion, he pulled it backward, quickly weaving his right leg behind his standing leg, catching the ball with the inside of his right foot as it rolled back.
With a sharp flick upward, he sent the ball spinning into the air — and without missing a beat, wrapped his left leg around from the inside, performing a clean around-the-world before settling into tight, effortless juggles.
The ball danced from knee to foot, never touching the ground.
Jin and Ryoma exchanged impressed looks, smirking as if silently accepting the challenge.
The girls let out a chorus of playful gasps and "oooh"s, even though they were footballers too and not easily impressed.
"You're such a show-off, Seiko~," Rose teased, nudging him with her elbow.
"That's nothing~," Jin shot back with a grin, stepping closer as they all naturally formed a loose circle in the sand.
Nami, meanwhile, was busy laying out the towels and setting the cooler down.
She stretched lazily, waving them off.
"You guys enjoy yourselves, I'll just be over here," she announced, already slipping her sunglasses on.
"Lameee~," Seiko teased over his shoulder, drawing a round of light-hearted bickering from the group.
Grinning, Seiko flicked the ball up again with his knee, juggling it three times before launching it high into the air toward Jin.
"Show me what ya got, Jin!" he called, laughing.
Jin cracked his neck like a boxer stepping into a ring, eyes following the ball as it began its descent.
His smirk widened — he was ready to put on a show of his own.
As the ball descended, Jin timed his move perfectly.
He extended his right foot upward, letting the ball's momentum meet him, and with delicate precision, trapped it dead in place — a flawless foot stall.
The ball balanced magically between his foot and shin, perfectly still.
Jin wiggled his leg playfully, showing off the control, a cocky grin splitting across his face.
Then, with a snap of movement, he swung his right foot around the ball — once, twice — executing two quick around-the-worlds without breaking flow.
The ball popped into the air again, and this time Jin's left leg whipped around it from the outside, keeping the rhythm alive.
He juggled a few soft touches with his left foot before flicking the ball up to head level.
Seamlessly, he bumped it from one shoulder to the other, the ball bouncing cleanly between his right and left side.
The group cheered, but Jin wasn't done.
As the ball floated once more above him, he dipped slightly, bending forward.
The ball settled on the back of his neck — a perfect neck stall, frozen there like it belonged.
He stayed like that for a moment, letting the sun glint off his sweaty back, wearing his signature smirk.
"You like what you see, Seiko?" Jin teased, his voice low and full of mock arrogance.
Ryoma chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.
Seiko only rolled his eyes in response, a playful glint hidden behind his unimpressed act.
The girls, meanwhile, clapped and let out another round of impressed noises, their excitement genuine.
"You guys are insane," Hana praised, biting her lip and feeling a twinge of insecurity about her own skills.
Jin straightened up slowly, seemingly letting the ball slip off his back, as if he was about to lose the rhythm —
—but at the last second, he flicked his heel backward, catching the ball with a slick, unseen touch.
The ball soared high over his head and spun gently toward Hana.
Suddenly, Seiko's phone buzzed violently in the pocket of his shorts.
He pulled it out, glancing at the screen.
An unknown number — but it was verified, meaning it had to be serious.
"Ahh, give me a second, guys. I have to take this," Seiko said quickly, jogging away from the group.
The others barely looked up, too caught up in their game, nodding as they continued without him.
Seiko answered, pressing the phone to his ear.
"Hello...?"
There was a brief pause, then a bright, energetic voice filled the line.
"Hi! Is this Seiko Kyotūkaba I'm talking to?" the woman chirped.
"Yes?" Seiko said, cautious. "How may I help you?"
"I'm calling from the Japan Football Union!" she said, her words tumbling out fast. "We're giving you an hour's notice for your Orientation at the Blue Lock Academy Special Player Training Program — just in case you didn't see the letter!
Oh, and by the way — I'm such a huge fan of your father! Rin Kyotūkaba was my hero growing up!"
Seiko's expression shifted instantly.
The light in his eyes dulled.
His voice cooled, losing all warmth.
"...Oh," he muttered. "Alright. Send me the location."
Without another word, he ended the call, thumb pressing hard against the screen.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the crashing waves.
His fingers curled tightly around the phone until his knuckles turned white.
Seiko could feel the fire building inside him — a storm of emotions he knew too well.
But he forced himself to breathe.
This was just the beginning.
The first step toward everything he had worked for.
He couldn't lose focus now.
The moment Seiko tucked his phone away, the memories crept in, uninvited.
He was six years old the first time he realized something was wrong — that something about his family was broken.
Back then, his mother's laughter filled the house — soft and warm, like the glow of the evening sun.
But his father... Rin Kyotūkaba was always like a ghost at the dinner table.
Physically present, but his mind always somewhere darker, colder.
Even as a kid, Seiko could tell, the man who was supposed to be his hero was chasing something else entirely:
Money. Power. Control.
When his mother fell sick, Seiko thought — hoped — it would bring them together.
That it would wake something human in Rin.
Instead, it was the opposite.
Rin took control of everything — the family savings, the hospital decisions, even the house they lived in.
The bills piled up faster than any treatment could work.
And while Seiko sat by his mother's side, watching her weaken day by day, Rin was out there — throwing their money into the streets, feeding his empire of filth.
Drug deals. Laundering. Extortion.
All masked under the reputation of a "world-class athlete" adored by millions.
The same people who cheered his father's name would never know the truth:
That the man they loved let his own wife rot away, too obsessed with building an empire to care.
At fifteen, Seiko found the documents.
Hidden accounts. Fake companies. Proof that Rin had long stopped seeing them as family —
they were just assets. Collateral.
That night, something inside Seiko snapped.
The father he once wished would be proud of him...
He no longer existed.
There was only a target now.
One he would tear down with his own two hands.
Not for revenge.
But for the only person who ever truly loved him.
His mother.
That night, Seiko made himself a promise.
He would become a professional footballer.
Not for fame.
Not for love of the game.
But because money was survival — the only weapon he had left.
He would climb higher than his father ever did.
He would earn enough to fund his mother's treatment, no matter the cost.
And when the time came, on the world's biggest stage — the World Cup —
he would face Rin Kyotūkaba.
And beat him.
Ruin him.
Steal the glory that Rin hoarded for himself.
And then, with the eyes of the world watching,
he would expose everything —
drag Rin down from his throne, crumble his empire, and watch as the man who betrayed them lost everything.
Not out of rage.
Not even out of revenge.
But because some promises are too sacred to break.
And Seiko Kyotūkaba intended to keep his.
Seiko walked back towards the group, his steps heavier than before.
Jin noticed first, pausing mid-pass.
"Yo, everything good?" he called out.
Seiko gave a small nod, forcing a smile onto his face.
"Actually..." he started, scratching the back of his head, "I just got a call. I'm being invited to a special player training program. Some new thing the Japan Football Union's running."
The group immediately perked up, eyes wide.
"Wait, seriously?!" Ryoma burst out, grinning.
"That's insane, bro!" Jin added, slapping Seiko's back hard enough to make him stumble.
Hana, Rose, and even Nami, who was half-asleep on her towel, lit up with excitement.
"You're gonna kill it, Seiko!" Rose cheered.
"I'm so proud of you!" Hana added, hands clasped in front of her.
Seiko chuckled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Yeah... Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."
He let the moment settle, soaking in the energy of the friends who had been with him through it all.
Part of him wanted to stay longer, to kick the ball around one more time, to laugh a little more.
But he knew better.
This was goodbye — at least for now.
"I gotta bounce," Seiko said, grabbing his bag from the sand.
"Need to get home, change, and head out. Orientation's today."
They all gathered around for one last group hug — loud, messy, chaotic — exactly how Seiko would remember it.
"You better come back a monster!" Ryoma joked, wiping fake tears from his eyes.
"Don't forget us when you're famous, Seiko!" Rose teased, winking.
"Yeah, yeah," Seiko laughed, his voice a little rougher than usual.
"I'll make you guys proud. Promise."
With a final wave, he jogged off down the beach, the sand shifting under his steps.
The bus stop wasn't far — a lonely bench sitting under a crooked streetlight, the ocean breeze still brushing the air.
Seiko sat down, tossing his bag beside him, and leaned back to stare up at the sky.
This was it.
No more games.
No more waiting.
He was about to start the climb that would change everything.
As he sat there, lost in thought, a voice pulled him back.
"You have beautiful eyes, young man," said an elderly woman sitting at the other end of the bench.
Seiko blinked, surprised.
He turned slightly to face her.
She was small, bundled in an old blue shawl, smiling warmly at him.
Her gaze wasn't intrusive — just curious, almost knowing.
"Red and blue," she said softly, as if admiring a rare jewel.
"Two forces always at odds... and yet, they make something extraordinary together."
Seiko didn't reply at first.
He simply touched the side of his face lightly, feeling the weight of her words.
Before he could answer, the rumble of the approaching bus cut through the silence.
Seiko stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Thanks," he said quietly, offering her a nod.
The doors hissed open, and without another word, he stepped onto the bus — toward his future.