16. SECOND TIME

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IT

has been ten days, since the end of the First selection, and ten days since the start of your so-called interlude. Ten days of training, ten days of torture, ten days of hell, whatever you'd like to call it, it has been a grand total of ten days. And really, you were about done with all this.

Being a manager—which is, by Ego's standards, technically a staff member—means you get a lot of inside intel that the players don't. Like, for example, what all the selection trials will be like. You know for a fact that this whole thing with teams of three will end up in flames, and each day that passes, is another day of anxiety for you for what is to come.

Another thing that has been interesting to you, is that Kyouka has resumed her pattern of sitting with you during breakfast, lunch, and even dinner. It was awkward for the first few days, but soon, even with the addition of the rest of your ridiculous team at the table, you found yourself enjoying her presence and eagerly meeting with her once more.

But talking about your team—you were kind of worried for them. It's been ten whole days, two hundred and forty long hours since they have even touched a soccer ball, and you were afraid some of them might be losing it. Isagi's been mumbling things about how his soccer ball can't leave him, and Bachira's been sucking his thumb and mumbling how Messi and Ronaldo can't run away from his playdate now. Frankly—you are frightened, mostly for your mental well-being, but frightened, nonetheless.

They have all collectively fallen flat on their faces during the middle of dinner more times than you could count, and each time, you've seen Kyouka grow more and more scared. You've seen all of them puke buckets after physical endurance training, and it's safe to say—you've never wanted to leave a room more than you had at that moment.

Today—you remember, after the long days. It's time for change.

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The second 5:59 am turned into 6:00 am—your alarm clock buzzed and beeped like a tornado warning in your area. You shot up, out of your luxuriously comfortable bed, sweat dripping down your face and chest heaving with each breath of air you sucked in greedily. You panted, looking around deliriously, before seeing a note (clearly not your handwriting, but that of your quote-unquote boss) stuck to your wall-mounted mirror. 

You rip the piece of paper off your mirror (which was lazily stuck there with a pinch of blu-tack) and glare down at it, eyes squinted to try and read it, "Report to the central basement area of your building. Effective immediately—if not followed through properly, there will be consequences." You mumble groggily, rubbing at your eyes and slamming it down on your desk. 

You sit at your desk, and you at yourself in the mirror. The bags under your eyes are light—at least, compared to the ones of your teammates. You pause. They won't be your teammates for much longer. At least, most of them. Chances are, the majority will be let go during this selection, and if you're really unlucky, you'll be left all alone. 

You pick up a powder and start dabbing it onto your face, eyes unfocused and blurry. You almost don't want to think about it, because, as much as you hate to say it, you have grown to care for these soccer idiots. Even though they never turn in their laundry on time (so you have to do two loads instead of one, which annoys you to no end), and they always leave a disgusting mess of clothes in their locker room, you do genuinely care for them, and you think you would feel sad at the thought of them having to go.

You were getting there at least half an hour earlier than the boys—just so you had a chance to meet the other girls from the other 4 quarters. Meanwhile—you figured that you should meet with the only other girl that made it through—Kyouka. You walked through the halls until you made it to Team V's room, and you saw with bright blue letters, Managerial Quarters. You feel a small smile adorn your lips when you see a pink little sticky note next to it, saying with bubble letters, Kyouka's room! Please knock before entering, thank you!

You do as the note says, and knock a few times on the door, hard. There is a bump, and a quiet curse before you hear her loudly yell, coming! The door slides open, and there stands Kyouka—pink clips holding back her bangs and concealer under her eyes unblended. Her face lights up at the sight of you, and she speaks with a bright tone, "[name]! You're here! For me?"

You nod in confirmation, and she excitedly steps aside, ushering you in. You look around in awe at how she managed to decorate the boring, bland room that was given to you originally into... this. Somehow, she had managed to bring in a way-too-big pink rug that covered nearly every inch of the floor, and there were posters of idols and anime characters on every crevice of the walls. Not to mention, there was a whole pink vanity in here, with clear organisers and her makeup stored neatly inside them with stuffies and pictures all across her desk. 

Your eyes widen when you notice a laptop sitting on a pink stand, She managed to even bring a laptop?!

She giggles nervously, taking a seat at her vanity and starting to blend her concealer. "Sorry, I know it's a bit much... Zantetsu wanted to see my room once, and said it was very frivolous... but he was shocked when I got a bit upset. He said he meant it as a compliment... and then I realised he meant to say fabulous."

Her smile slowly dies down, and so does the light in her eyes. Her lips form a pout as she dabs a pink lip tint onto them, and slips it into her jacket pocket, turning to you with long, curled lashes. "But... I guess he's not going to be my teammate anymore, huh?" Her voice dies down, and silence fills the room.

You open your mouth to speak, but she abruptly pushes her chair back in her rug, and says loudly, "Well! We should... go now. I'm done getting ready." She starts to walk out, nudging her head forward towards the door while peering back at you.

You feel your heart drop, and you realise, that just as much as you do—she doesn't want to leave her team.

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You both make your way to your designated area and there, you see eight girls (who are noticeably all split up into groups of two) chatting away with each other. You and Kyouka both give each other a look and almost immediately, the lights all dim. The screen in front of you flashes white and static, then Ego. 

Each girl in the room scowls at the sight of him—absolutely no exceptions. 

"Hello, for each of you that have made it this far." He pushes up his glasses, leaning forward into the camera. "You all have shown your exceptional skills as managers—and that is why you have made it this far. However, if you truly have just been riding on the success of your talented diamonds, then you are in for a reality check. This second selection—they don't need you. The teams are constantly changing, evolving into something new, which is why, there is only one job for you to do."

He points down at the camera, and you can't decipher who he's truly referring to, "The point of Blue Lock is for one to come out on top. There will only one striker left—and alone, by his side, will be the most capable manager of all, to lead him to his glory. You all will choose a singular player to stick by. No matter what team they take, no matter if they are chosen or not—no matter if they are eliminated, you will stick by that player like glue. There is a chance you will go. There is also a chance you will proceed with them."

"Seriously?! We survived through all that, just for this?!" A girl with long raven hair that flows down her back seethes, fists clenched and brows furrowed.

"Loyalty to your player is a valuable trait in a competent manager," Ego says, leaning back in his chair with a deadpan expression. His eyes suddenly feel even more empty as he goes on, however, fingers tap together on his chin. "But some players do not wish for such loyalty. In fact, some players have no need for a manager at all. For you to proceed in this selection, you should hope you've made strong, long-lasting connections with your players—because your lives here in Blue Lock now ride on their willingness to string you along beside them. You can offer your companionship all you'd like, but if they refuse, then there is no room to argue."

You shudder as he stares deeply into the camera, smile slowly widening like slime across his face, and teeth striking white against his skin, "If your chosen player proves to be incompetent and useless... then it shows that you are too."

The screen glitches back to white, and you stand there in shock—almost unable to process everything. Your eyes instinctively dart to Kyouka, who's pale with shock, hands on her cheeks and mouth wide open.

"He's fucking crazy," a girl with fiery red hair states, glaring down at the floor. A girl with forest-green hair places a hand on her shoulder, a calming presence emitting from her core.

"Don't get too worried, all you need to do is choose a strong player, and hope for the best."

A girl with baby pink hair, and brown roots places a finger on her chin, chocolate eyes still staring up at the screen, "We will be accepted eventually, there's no doubt. But if the person will get through everything, is the important question. We will have to stay loyal... so we need to pick wisely who deserves such loyalty."

You don't say anything, nor does anyone else, but you can feel the mental agreement with the girl's statement that flows within the room.

You suddenly hear a brash, raspy voice speak up—and it's a woman who has deep, velvety blue hair and is on the chubbier side, face roundish and smile charming. "This is the passing room. Isn't there another stage the players must go through before they get here?" She takes a seat, crossing her legs on the red couch, which is sitting just behind a large, red number 2 on the floor. "So it's probably gonna be a while 'till anybody shows up."

The girl beside her, with a bob-cut and a middle part nods in agreement, taking her seat beside the blue-haired girl. "Right. There's no use standing around and waiting. God knows how know they'll be."

The girl with fiery red hair murmurs something, a finger placed on her chin. You can't make out what she's saying, but you hear something along the lines of, "Wait... best... in here."

It isn't too long before the atmosphere of the room has completely shifted, doing a complete 180 from how it was from Ego's interference. Each girl is talking to what looks like their sector partner, chatting and giggling along. You and Kyouka are admittedly no exception and you try your hardest to not think about what is to come.

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