03. BAD IMPRESSION

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EVERYONE

knows that meeting new people is hard. Especially when those new people are a bunch of rowdy, sporty, dumb teenage boys who have nothing on their mind except soccer and other dumb, stupid things. You find yourself debating this as you walk out of your room, now wearing the unofficial official managerial uniform (which, to be fair, is just a matching black and blue jacket and leggings, with whatever kind of undershirt you want. Today, you chose a white tank top) and shoes that you could never dream of affording if you did not take up this job.

The Team Z in big, bright, glowing neon blue letters on the door is impossible to miss, but even after observing the others walking into their designated rooms, you still find a sliver of anxiety creeping up your spine that you had walked into the wrong room and would make a fool of yourself in front of these—probably mean—teenage boys.

These are the rising stars that you were betting this career—and by extension, your chance at a nice homelife—on, and you would be lying if you said you had high hopes for this team. Your best player was just kicked out, which was ironic considering he was nicknamed the Jewel of Japan, and now, you were left with the real bottom of the murky, disgusting barrel. 

If you had to describe what you were feeling in one word as soon as you stepped through that door, it would have to be regret.

All eyes turn to you instantaneously, some blinking in surprise, others' mouths falling in shock, and some shrugging and turning the other way, completely unphased. You stand there, notebook under your arm and your other hand on your hand, an eyebrow raised as you stare back with as much confidence as you can muster as if saying what are you chumps lookin' at?

"Jewels need help to shine, and sometimes, that requires personal care." Ego's voice rings out throughout the room, and his creepy face appears on a large-scale screen. "This woman is your manager. She will help each of you with anything you can think of. Her job here, at Blue Lock, is to make your daily life—the parts of it that do not revolve around soccer—easier. Consider her as a part of the team."

Oh, and a part of the team you were, you think, when you get promptly ignored in a way that makes you feel like you matter nothing.

You walk forward, clutching your notebook in front of you, and plaster a smile on your lips, "I'm [name]. It's a pleasure taking care of you all."

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The rest of the day is spent with Ego explaining how each of the training equipment worked, but you guessed that they didn't need an explanation, especially that muscular blonde boy, who you soon learned was Kunigami.

You spend this time observing and taking down small notes on each of them, quips and quirks that they had that you decided you would work on in the future. There is one that catches your eye. You don't know his name, and you don't care to. You walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder. 

He looks up at you in confusion, through red bangs, he asks in a cold tone, "What?"

You ignore his initial rudeness and lean down next to him. "Your form is wrong. Your leg needs to stretch farther outwards." You don't want to touch him, so you just motion for him to stretch out his leg in hopes he would understand.

He shakes his head, lowering his head so his long hair falls over his eyes. His grip on the weight he was holding tightened, and you take a step back, "I can't."

"Why? You could hurt yourself if you don't sit properly," you narrow your eyes, peering down at him through your lashes. You place your hand on your hip and lean down on your heel.

His voice grows more agitated the longer you stand there, barely above a whisper, yet aggressive all the same, "I just can't. Drop it. Leave me alone."

You take the hint that you said something wrong, and you silently walk away, feeling your heart drop into your stomach at the awkward stares you receive. You sit back down on the bench and feel a twisting feeling in your chest and you hide your face in the book.

Your first day here, and you've already made a bad first impression. You're going to do great. Not.

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You pull out a chair, and sit down at a table, a plate of food in your hands. Since you weren't a player, your worth wasn't determined by your ranking, and as such, you were allowed whatever you'd like. You like fried chicken. 

You eat silently, alone, your free clasped down on your lap. Eating alone was a new feeling and one that you didn't like. You always had your two sisters hanging off your arm—to the point that it got a bit much sometimes, but you would never say anything—and clinging to you everywhere you went. You never ate alone, no matter how late you came home from work, or even when you played matches, your sisters always ate with you, refusing to go to bed until you were home. 

Now, you were alone, in this strange new place with nobody you knew.

You didn't think eating lunch would give you a wave of homesickness. You suddenly don't feel hungry anymore, and you want to just sleep this feeling away. 

Swallowing the bite you were chewing, you stare down at your barely-eaten plate and feel even more upset. If your family knew you were pushing away food because you were missing them, you were sure you would get smacked and lectures, hard. You almost smile at this thought.

"Is... anybody... sitting here?" Timidly, a voice speaks out beside you. You turn your head and your shoulders relax when you see it's just Kyouka. She's holding a tray of her own, with rice, a juice packet, and a bowl of what seems to be kimchi and some sort of fatty meat.

"No." You pick up another piece and chew, covering your mouth with your hand.

"Oh, okay." She pauses, pressing her lips tightly together. Kyouka avoids eye contact, staring down at the ground. "Um... can I sit with you?"

"Sure," you nod, and her face visibly brightens up. She pulls out the chair and plops into the seat beside her, on the strangely empty table. It suddenly hits how you must've looked before she came. The rest of the tables filled up with boys chatting and joking away with each other, and then there was you, a girl sitting and eating fried chicken all by yourself. Suddenly, you feel thankful for her company.

She takes a bite of her dish, and she hums in delight, a cute flush forming on her cheeks. Kyouka turns over to you, peering up at you through dark bangs, "So... h—how's everything? It's the first day... is everything okay with your team?"

You shake your head but don't take your eyes off your plate. "No. It's not going well so far. They're all so strange and different... and I think that I make some of them uncomfortable." Saying all this out loud makes you feel worse than you already did, panic gnawing at the sides of your ribs.

"... Yeah, me too." She lowers her head, nibbling on a piece of cabbage unconsciously, lips forming into a pout. She looks into the distance as if thinking, "I'm not the best at talking to boys... so... it's uncomfortable for me, too. And the fact that... they're all kind of strange. I don't think I can connect to any of them..."

"It's just the first day. Don't feel too bad about it. The ones who are already buddy-buddy with each other... probably knew each other before this whole Blue Lock thing." You place your chopsticks down and glance at her. She looks up at you, and with this brief moment of eye contact, you place a larger hand on her shoulder. 

Her cheeks flush a deep red, and she nods fast—so fast that you fear her head may go flying off—and she lowers her body so that you can only see the top of her head. "O—Okay, [name]! I'll trust you!"

You snort a little at her over-the-top actions, placing your hand in front of your lips and nose. Her head slowly moves up at this, Kyouka looking at you with wide-eyed wonder. A smile forms on the tip of her lips, and she goes back to sitting normally. "Oh... by the way, [name]. Did you bring your phone?"

You nod, and she continues, "Great! We... we can exchange numbers then!" She pulls out her phone from under the table, showing you the bright screen. Her home screen is an anime character you don't recognise, and she has a small flower charm dangling off the side of her case. "Here's mine!"

Today, you weren't sure what compelled you to bring your phone around, but now, you think this was a sixth sense for this moment. You pull out your phone and exchange numbers with her. As soon as you take your phone back, you see that she's sent you a message. A greeting, with a kaomoji next to it that's winking with blushy cheeks. 

You snort at the message, and in return, you send a happy emoji.

"Ego seems pretty strict... but he's nice enough to let us keep our phone... I'm happy." Kyouka giggles, shoving another bite of rice into her mouth, lips upturned. "Otherwise, I'd be pretty bored all the time."

You agree, and give her a smile of your own, "Me too. I don't think the boys have their phones, though."

"They weren't allowed to, but they can buy it back with goals." Kyouka points at a poster, which shows rewards for goals in a game. Goals seemed to be like a currency here, and it wasn't too surprising to see. This whole program is about individual growth and ego, and who doesn't want to score goals by themselves? "But since there haven't been any real games yet, nobody has their phones except us. Hehe... I feel kinda special. I can keep my streaks in my games."

"Seriously? That's what you care about?" You snort again, shoulders shaking as she gives you a nervous look, cheeks paling. 

"N—No! That's not the only thing I care about! I mean... I do want to call my mom and stuff... but I also want to keep my daily rewards login..."

You grin and shove her lightly with your elbow, which makes her lean back and stifle a laugh, head tilting to the side. 

You don't even remember how homesick you were before this, a lightweight feeling appearing in your heart as you chat mindlessly with this small, timid girl. For the first time, you allow yourself to feel as if you don't have any responsibilities, and the only thing you need to worry about is having fun talking to Kyouka.

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