The match had been a battle from the start. Every player on the field was pushing themselves to the limit, but your focus was locked on one person—Yoichi Isagi.

He wasn’t the flashiest player. He wasn’t the fastest or the strongest. But there was something about him, something unsettling.

It was the way he moved, always adjusting, always watching. It felt like he wasn’t just playing—he was solving the game in real time, piecing together every player’s positioning like a puzzle only he could see.

And right now, you were the piece standing in his way.

He looked at you with those sharp blue eyes, focused, calculating.

Isagi: “You think you can stop me?”

You knew Isagi wasn’t like other players. He didn’t rely on overwhelming speed or brute force—his weapon was his mind.

So when he received the ball, you braced yourself, watching for his next move.

But that was the problem.

Isagi wasn’t reacting to the game. He was predicting it.

The moment you stepped in to block him, he already knew what you would do.

Isagi (grinning slightly): “Too obvious.”

With a quick pass-and-move, he was already past you, repositioning himself where the ball would be instead of where it was.

You turned, trying to recover, but by the time you did—he was already there, waiting.

A cross came in. Isagi stepped forward, perfectly timed—

And buried the ball into the net with a clinical first-time shot.

GOAL.

You stood frozen as he jogged past, eyes burning with intensity.

Isagi: “You’re just reacting. I’m already thinking three moves ahead.”

You weren’t going to let him control the game so easily. The next time he got the ball, you pressed tighter, forcing him back, cutting off his passing options.

But instead of panicking, Isagi smirked.

Isagi: “Oh? You think you’ve got me now?”

He turned—then suddenly sent a no-look pass to a teammate making a run you didn’t even see.

Isagi (laughing): “You’re too focused on me. But I already set up the next play.”