𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 || 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

11||Final showdown

Chapter 11: No Team? No Problem. Ryouta Does It His Way

Song: Born for this

They just don't get it, I think they forget

I'm not done till I'm on top

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Ryouta's POV:

The game was slipping away, time ticking down.

Another missed ball. Ugh, why do I keeping myself from passing it to my so called teammates? Is it pride? Or maybe—no, it's something else... something that's hard to explain.

Breathless, I stood there, sweat dripping, and my mind buzzing from all that pointless running. I looked over, my eyes narrowing on a shadowy figure monster watching from the sideline, that fiery smirk playing on its face.

"How long do you plan to just stand there watching me mess up?" I called out, eyes fixed on the figure as it slowly began to move closer, each step cutting through the smoky haze around it.

"Who even are you?" I murmured, as if the shadow might answer. But I felt the excitement build, a smirk creeping onto my face. "Come on, play with me."

Just then, a sharp yell broke the trance "Not, him! Don't let him score!!" The voice pulled me back. I blinked, spotting Isagi driving forward with the ball, and behind him, that familiar monster. It looked like it was swallowing up his number 11.

A rush of excitement surged through me. "Oh, so you've decided to play with me, huh?" I thought, feeling the red aura spark in my eyes, an unstoppable thrill lighting them up. My lips pulled into a daring smirk as I sprinted toward the penalty area, catching sight of Louis receiving the ball, ready to score.

But I got there first. Heart pounding, I intercepted before his foot could touch the ball, timing is everything, and I always play it perfectly, sending him a quick, playful grin as I stole it and passed to my 'monster.'

I want to play with someone on my level, someone just as wild and relentless. My heart thumped as I mentally cheered on my shadowy partner, my mind racing with the thought, Come on, my monster.

The instant the ball left my foot, I felt the raw power rippling through me—a surge I hadn't tasted in a long time. My 'monster' took over, something beyond me, beyond anything I'd been taught.

Louis's face twisted in surprise, as the ball sailed past him. This was bigger than him, bigger than anyone on this field. This was me, unleashed.

The 'monster' pushed me forward, guiding every muscle, every nerve. I felt my surroundings fade into a blur of movement. I saw the defender moving in, arms spread, trying to block my path. He was big, and I could tell he thought he had me pinned, but I wasn't looking for brute strength. Just timing. Just precision.

I took a quick step forward, almost like I was about to dash left, and watched his foot shift ever so slightly. That's all I needed. I slid right, keeping my touch feather-light, the ball practically glued to my foot. He lunged, trying to recover, but I was already gone.

The second defender was sharper, anticipating my movement. He closed in fast, his gaze locked on me. But I didn't speed up; instead, I made my next move slower, softer—a calculated half-step that left him hesitating, waiting for my direction. Just as he braced himself, I ghosted to the opposite side, slipping past his reach with just enough of a nudge to keep control.