Blue lock: Reborn Egoist

Eito's body ached from the relentless training, but his mind was sharper than ever. The past few days had forced him to rethink everything he knew about being a striker. He wasn't just learning to score anymore—he was learning to control the game. To manipulate space, to dictate tempo, to make defenders react to him.

And now, he was eager to put it all into action.

Standing on the training pitch once again, Eito rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension ease slightly. Ego had drilled into him the importance of positioning, vision, and tempo control, but none of it mattered if he couldn't apply it in real-game situations.

That was exactly why today's match simulation was the perfect test.

Ego had assembled a mix of high-level trainees and semi-professionals for an 11v11 scrimmage. Some of the players were new faces—strong, aggressive, and technically gifted. Others were familiar rivals Eito had trained against before.

One thing was certain: no one was here to lose.

As Eito tied his cleats, Sayuri walked up beside him, arms crossed.

"You've been quiet," she observed.

Eito smirked. "Just thinking."

Sayuri tilted her head. "About what?"

"How I'm going to destroy these guys."

She chuckled. "Confidence is good. But let's see if you can back it up."

Kickoff

The whistle blew, and immediately, Eito could feel the difference. The intensity was higher than a normal training match. His opponents were moving with purpose, cutting off passing lanes, pressing aggressively.

This wasn't just a friendly scrimmage—this was war.

Eito started high up the pitch as usual, but instead of charging forward recklessly, he slowed down, forcing his marker to hesitate.

He wasn't just playing the game. He was watching it.

The ball moved through midfield, and Eito noticed something: the defenders were watching him just as much as he was watching them.

Good. That means I'm in their heads.

Instead of making a direct sprint for goal, Eito dropped back toward midfield, dragging his defender with him. The moment that happened, a gap opened in the defensive line—exactly what he wanted.

As soon as the ball was played wide to the winger, Eito exploded forward, cutting through the gap he had just created. His marker was caught off guard, a step too slow.

The cross came in.

Eito adjusted his body, timing his movement perfectly. With a clean strike, he sent the ball past the keeper and into the net.

Goal.

His teammates celebrated, but Eito barely reacted. His mind was still racing, analyzing what had just happened.

That goal had felt different.

It wasn't a lucky break. It wasn't instinct alone.

He had planned it.

From the sideline, Ego clapped once. "That's more like it."

Sayuri, watching with a keen eye, simply nodded. "You're starting to see it, aren't you?"

Eito exhaled, a grin forming on his face. "Yeah."

The match continued, and Eito found himself facing a new challenge. His opponents had adapted. They weren't letting him drop deep so easily anymore, and whenever he tried to create space, they adjusted quickly.

But now, he had more tools than before.

Instead of fighting against their adjustments, he used them.

When they pressed him, he didn't panic—he slowed down the play, forcing them to break formation.

When they backed off, expecting him to pass, he attacked, bursting forward with explosive speed.

By the second half, Eito wasn't just reacting—he was orchestrating.

Even when he wasn't touching the ball, he was controlling the game.

With the game winding down, the score was tied. Both teams were exhausted, but the intensity hadn't dropped.

Eito knew this was his moment.

A counterattack started from midfield, and as soon as he saw the opportunity, he sprinted into open space. His teammate spotted the run and sent a perfect through ball.

A defender rushed toward him, but Eito had already decided what to do.

Instead of taking a direct shot, he slowed down.

The sudden change in pace threw the defender off, making him hesitate for just a split second. That was all Eito needed.

With a quick shift of his foot, he flicked the ball past the defender and unleashed a powerful strike.

The ball curled past the keeper's outstretched hands.

Goal.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the match.

Eito stood still for a moment, his breath heavy, his pulse racing.

That goal—every movement leading up to it—had been his.

For the first time, he felt like he wasn't just a goal-scorer.

He was a playmaker. A game-changer.

As his teammates congratulated him, Eito turned toward the sideline, where Ego and Sayuri stood watching.

Ego smirked. "You're starting to get it."

Sayuri gave him a knowing look. "Still think you're just a striker?"

Eito wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned. "No. I'm something more."