SYNOPSIS — Bonding time with your dear old dad soon turns into a fated meeting between you and the cute, slightly nerdy son of his most hated rival.

note: still platonic father/daughter relationship. very heavily implied romantic relationship between you and another character tho. wattpad is tweaking out still and i cant see the request that well so!!! whatever!! had to download the app smh

ty hina ilysm for requesting this it was so fun...!!! part 2 to the previous oneshot

ISAGI YOICHI HAS BEEN HAVING A GREAT TIME.

His life is perfect. Incredibly, extremely perfect. His football career is positively thriving, he's happier than he's ever been, he's still fit, despite him being well into middle age at this point, he's married to the love of his life (who may or may not have been his manager during his time at Blue Lock), and most of all, he has you—his beautiful daughter.

It's been a while since that game from before. A while being nearly three whole years. From the age of eleven to now being fourteen—you've grown up, a lot, and sometimes he's not so sure what to do.

The mere thought of you and a boy together brings a sense of sickness to his stomach.

He knew it would happen eventually, but fourteen is far too soon. His wife always tells him, Let her live her life how she wants to—she's not a baby anymore, but to him, you'll always be his baby. 

He knows he should let you do what you want (with guidance on the right path, of course) and he knows he should let you live your life as a blossoming teen, but you're still his little girl, the one who made grabby hands up at him when you wanted him to stay training and hold you (something he always fell victim to—he could never say no).

To Isagi, you're still his baby who cried into his chest when your family dog accidently bit you—still the baby who runs up to him after a game and proudly proclaims, My daddy is the best in the whole world!

The thought of you growing up, as much as he hates to admit it, scares him. Him and your mom don't plan on having any other kids. It's not like you even wanted any other siblings either—but all it really did was make him that more protective over you. His only child, only daughter, who just so happened to be great at garnering attention.

(You're his pretty wife's daughter, of course he knew that you would be drop-dead gorgeous, but seriously, he needs to tell Bachira to tell his twin boys to knock it off with the flirting.)

He's had countless conversations about this with his wife.

"Yoichi," she would say, in a soft, motherly voice that she'd gained since having you. "You can't be protective like this forever. It's endearing while she's a little girl, but she'll grow to resent you if you don't let her live during her most sensitive years."

He knows you've talked about this with your mom before. You absolutely don't hate, resent, or even dislike your dad—you just find his constant protectiveness annoying. You dislike how he doesn't let you talk to boys doesn't let you go out by yourself, or even lets you carry your phone around without your location on.

With his wife's hand gripped tightly in his, he would say, "I know, but I just can't help it. There are so many cruel people out there," so many annoying Kaiser's in this world, "I'm just... scared."

His life is absolutely perfect. Picture perfect, even. But sometimes, Isagi grows just a little too nervous about what your future holds.

And looking back on it now, he was right to worry.

———

Deciding to take you to a party thrown by his plentiful sponsors seemed to be a good idea at the time. It would serve as a bonding experience between you and your dear dad, and also give you some insight towards what your future career in sports would hold (because of course you were planning to be a soccer player just like he is—it gave him a surge of pride).

You looked stunning. A pretty white dress and a shiny pearl necklace that your mother told you to take very good care of—you could've stolen the show in an instant if you weren't glued to the side of your father the entire night.

Both out of fear and his want to keep you away from boys—you stayed hand-in-hand with your dad and nearly did not speak at all the entire night if it was not to your father.

The place where the party was held was dark. There were minimal lights, and people were strewn all over the place. You recognized a lot of these people—teammates of your father, rivals of your father, coaches and friends of your father—all grown men and the odd wife who was brought along.

You felt so alone. Mr Bachira was nice enough to you, but it wasn't like you could easily hold a conversation with an adult—it was awkward, at least, to you. Even if his two sons were really annoying and stupid, you would've preferred to at least have been with them than alone.

Your dad places his hand on your shoulder, making you lift your gaze from the carpeted ground and look into his bright blue eyes, "I need to have a chat with this sponsor alone, okay? Make sure you stay around the food area because there's a lot of people. Don't move until you see me."

Silently, you nod. A frown pulls down at your lips at the prospect of truly being alone, and it doesn't pass by your father. He hesitates for a second, then places his rough hand on your cheek while pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll be back soon. Keep your chin up, okay? I love you."

You don't say I love you back. "... Okay." It makes him frown, but he doesn't mention it. He walks away, and you're left standing awkwardly in your long white dress and heels (low, one-inch heels—your dad insisted you didn't need to be walking around in stilettos) by the snack table.

At least you could eat—you tried to focus on the silver lining of this awfully boring night. Surrounded by either big, burly players or stinking rich people, or even both—one thing was for sure, you were seriously alone.

You pick up a paper plate and walk yourself around the various charcuterie boards strewn around on the clean white tablecloth. You pick up some cheese. Cherry tomatoes. Strawberries. Almonds. You're not even hungry, you just want something to do to take your mind off of this.

You eventually start mindlessly chewing on the light snacks, leaning against the wall and watching as people converse in groups within this room. 

You think this is what you're destined for, for the rest of this night—until a presence beside you catches your eye. Out of the corner of your sparkly eyelids, you see a face staring right at you. He looks your age. You didn't know there were other kids here.

He waves his hand, an endearingly dorky gesture, "Hello." You can pick up a slight German accent to his tone. He speaks English well enough you can understand, though.

You think he's German. He's definitely not Japanese. His eyes are a bright, nearly cyan blue, and his hair is strikingly blonde, swooped to the side. It falls to his shoulders in a mullet-like style. He has a long, thin straight nose and sharp features that curve across his bone structure perfectly. His white, fair skin is pulled upwards into a small smile on his thin lips.

He's cute, you think, but definitely not Japanese.

You blink at him in surprise, staring dumbly—he stares right back. His eyes are really blue, you note. Maybe even more so than your dad's. It takes a good few seconds of you gathering your thoughts before you manage to reply to him, back in English (your dad taught you both English and Spanish when you were young because he decided you would need it), "Hi."

His lips quirk up at your word, and he looks down curiously at the plate you hold in your hand. "Is that stuff good? My dad told me it was all trash food and I shouldn't touch it."

Wow, rude much. This stuff tasted really high-quality too—was his dad royalty or something? "I dunno. It tastes fine to me. You wanna try?"

He furrows his blonde brows. You can see that there's red eye makeup underneath his lids now that you look closer. "... Should I?"

"Do you want to?" You ask, but from just looking at him, it's so clear he does. So, you stick out your plate and gesture towards it. "Just take it. I'm not hungry anyway. I'm just so freaking bored."

With hesitant hands, the boy picks up something from your plate and pops it in his mouth with caution. That caution fades as soon as he starts chewing, and his eyes brighten. It's cute. "I'm bored too. There's nobody else my age around, and my dad is too busy dealing with important rich people."

You groan and nod, "I get that. If I hear about one more dealership I'm going to die..." 

You blink owlishly, looking at how he takes a bit more food from your plate. "Since you're eating my stuff... can I at least know your name?"

His mouth was half-full, and eyes peering down at you (he was slightly taller, which was surprising to you since so many of the boys in your classes at school were so short), "Erin. What about you?"

"[name]." You sigh. "This sucks. I wanna leave already. Do you have a GameBoy or something with you? I forgot my phone at home."

Erin hums as he digs through the pocket of his dress pants—the vest wrapped snugly around his torso, atop a white shirt, hung loosely over the flap of the pocket. He pulls out a phone. You stare in awe, "Woah, latest model. Nice."

His cheeks flush a slight pink—it was much more noticeable because of how pale he was—and he hands you the phone after he's unlocked it with his fingerprint, "My dad buys me a new phone every time a new model comes out."

You press on the app store icon, but glance up at him in shock, "Woah. You guys must be pretty loaded." It's not like you and your family weren't, from Isagi's hefty football salary, but he thought keeping your old phone for at least three years at a time would teach you responsibility.

"He plays soccer... and he's super good at it, too..." Erin smiles, perfect pearly white teeth peeking out from behind his grin. "Do you play soccer? Your dad is a player too, right?"

He sounds excited now, and much less awkward than before. He's probably into soccer. You click on a game icon and press download on his phone, before looking up and answering, "Yeah. I'm planning to go pro when I'm old enough. I've been playing since I could walk."

"Me too!" Erin grins wide, eyes crinkling up with his joy. "My dad can get a little technical with the football stuff, but... I like to play it... he says I'm going to be just like him one day and rule the field."

You nearly snort—your eyes tilt down when you see the game's been downloaded on his phone. "My dad told me to watch out for guys who say things like that."

His eyes widen at your words, and his face flushes pink in embarrassment, "Wh... Wait, I don't actually mean it! I'm not really planning to rule like a king or something, I—I just wanna play soccer, 'cause it's r—really fun! I don't—"

With each word, his voice grows more and more panicked, and his German accent seeps out heavily. It's a bit harder to understand him now, but still, you know what he's saying well enough to laugh—his face is practically bright red now. 

You slap a hand on his shoulder, "I'm kidding! You don't actually seem like the whole emperor, king-ly type anyway. Too wimpy."

He's tall, but doesn't look all that built. He's almost lanky—but you can see from underneath his white sleeves he has slightly muscular arms. Erin turns his head down and looks really flustered. "S...sorry... I... you're right. I don't really want to do that whole emperor thing... I'm more of a follower type."

Your lips quirk up into a smile at his words, and he lowers his head to look at your fingers tapping wildly across his phone screen. His sharp blue eyes are focused on the little characters dancing across, "What are you doing?"

You tilt the screen upwards so that he can have a better view. His head is practically hanging over your shoulders, but you don't notice it (it's too bad someone else did), "It's a shooter mini-game. Do you wanna try? It's super fun. You just shoot the purple things and make sure to dodge their bullets, otherwise it's game over."

"O... okay. I'll try." He takes the phone from your hands, and restarts to a new game. He manages to shoot the first few targets, but eventually, in less than a minute, is shot down by a bullet from the enemy. You snort at his distraught expression. "Oh... Oh nooo... I died..."

He wilts like a flower, and you start to laugh, "Haha! You're terrible at this! Do you not play video games?" 

"Not really... I like reading more."

Well, he certainly has the whole adorably nerdy guy thing down, you guess. You make eye contact with him and stare deep into his sharp, cobalt-blue eyes with a glimmer in your own, "Well then, we should play together sometime. I can teach you how not to be so trashy when shooting still objects." You place your hand on the phone, where he still holds it, and grasp it tightly.

"Hey... [name], that's not nice...!"

You both start laughing together, and your heart feels warm. You don't notice how your cheeks are warm as well. 

(But somebody else does, it seems.)

"ISAGI [NAME]!"

"ERIN KAISER!"

Both fathers call out, looking around. At the same time, both spot you and Erin standing close to each other—with both of your hands on his phone and you seem to be explaining something to him, which he nods and listens along to.

Isagi's eyes widen—a ghastly expression takes over your father's face when he meets eyes with none other than his mortal enemy for life. He looks at the child who you're standing next to—slightly taller, with a long, angled nose, smooth fair skin, strikingly blue eyes, blonde hair cut into a shoulder-length mullet...

It could only be one person's child. He has the exact face of him, and yet, you're looking at that boy like he's the cutest thing you've ever seen.

He has the face of Micheal Kaiser—the man who made your father's life hell during his time with Bastard Munchen—at least until Isagi made a fool out of him. He snarls right back at Isagi's glare with rage, until he looks to where you stand, next to his son.

Your eyes, hair, and skin are all the same as your mom, but your features are so strikingly similar to Isagi Yoichi that Kaiser almost cannot believe his eyes. You're practically holding hands with his son—and he could recognise that look that Erin gives you anywhere.

Fuck.

Both father's think while staring at their two children. Then, they look back to each other, soft stares suddenly morphing into hard, angry glares.

It's almost as if they're communicating telepathically. 

Don't you dare let your child woo mine!

But still—the mortal enemies who would fight over the most menial of things, are now slowly walking away from each other, eyes still narrowed over their shoulder as they do. You and Erin hadn't even noticed their presence; they were just a few feet away from you both, too engrossed with each other.

It seemed that a truce had been temporarily formed between the two rivals—for the sake of their two children. 

That truce would soon break like shards of glass when you and Erin would walk hand-in-hand months later, and you would introduce him as your boyfriend.

Isagi Yoichi used to think the worst thing in the world would be you and a boy together. That's still pretty high up on the list, but a new fear has taken its place, leaving it bumped down to number three.

Just above it, in second place, is the thought of you getting married to Kaiser's child—of you taking Kaiser's last name. That thought makes his mind swirl with negative thoughts.

And taking the first spot in Isagi Yoichi's worst fears is the undeniable thought of him and Micheal Kaiser now being... family. The mere thought could send him into a spiral.

(Isagi's life was not so perfect anymore, now that his three worst fears had been fulfilled within a span of five years.)

end.

note: i actually enjoyed writing this sm this was so funny LMAOO poor isagi he's lost everything in a few years 
ty to hina for requesting i loved this idea so muchhhh
also im going to try and update soon... i just am so unbothered. the only reason i did this is bc i can't be bothered to finish the barca match in found lol