The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the desk lamp. Posters of football players lined the walls, reminders of the dream he had chased since childhood. His bag sat half-packed in the corner, the Blue Lock invitation letter folded neatly on top, its words vague and unsettling.

Isagi sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders tense, staring at the floor as if the weight of tomorrow pressed down on him. You were beside him, close enough to feel the nervous energy radiating from his body.

"I still can’t believe it," he whispered, voice low and uncertain. "They call it Blue Lock, but… I don’t even know what it is. I don’t know if I’ll be playing, training, or… something else. I don’t even know why they picked me."

You reached for his hand, fingers intertwining with his. His grip was hesitant at first, then tightened, as if he needed the anchor.

"You’ll find out tomorrow," you said softly but firmly. "And whatever it is, you’ll face it. Because you’ve always faced the unknown with courage."

He looked at you then, his dark eyes reflecting both fear and hope. The nervous smile appeared, fragile but real.

"You always say the right thing. That’s why… I don’t know how I’ll do this without you."

You leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. The silence stretched, filled with the hum of the lamp and the quiet rhythm of his breath.

"You don’t have to do it without me," you whispered. "Because no matter where you go, I’ll be here. Waiting. Believing."

For a moment, the fear in his eyes softened. He kissed you gently, not with the fire of victory but with the trembling honesty of someone who didn’t want to let go.

When he pulled back, his voice cracked, almost breaking.

"Then tomorrow… whatever Blue Lock is, I’ll face it for us."

The night wrapped around you both, fragile and fleeting, but in that room, Yoichi Isagi wasn’t just a boy chasing football. He was your boyfriend, terrified of the unknown, holding on to the one thing that made him brave enough to step into it—your belief in him.