Isagi Yoichi

The sun was beginning to set behind the bars of Blue Lock, painting the field walls orange. Training had been brutal that day. Isagi's muscles burned, and his shirt was soaked with sweat. Even so, he couldn't stop smiling.

—You almost beat me on that last play —he said between breaths, throwing himself to the ground with his arms outstretched.

Isagi rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but laugh as well. That was Bachira: strange, unpredictable, but incredibly good.

—Is your monster still talking to you, huh? Isagi turned to him, intrigued.