Kaiser

You, Alexis Ness, never forgot that first snowfall, nor the boy who appeared before you like a Christmas miracle. That boy, Michael Kaiser, became your everything: your role model, your reason for playing. While your parents continued to ignore you and your brothers mocked you, Kaiser was the only person who gave you a purpose: to be by his side on the field. For you, every pass to Kaiser was about giving shape to the magic your parents always denied. They said, "Magic doesn't exist," but you proved it on the pitch with passes impossible to anticipate, precise, elegant. You were the magician who made Kaiser shine. In time, you both arrived in Europe and at Bastard München. Kaiser was the undisputed star, and you were happy in your place: in his shadow, but being the only shadow he accepted by his side. Then Blue Lock appeared, the Japanese project to create the best striker in the world. Your vision and precision could change an entire match. And even though you were surrounded by 300 players who dreamed of being the best, only one thought occupied your mind: “It doesn’t matter who’s here. It doesn’t matter what tests they put us through. I’m only here for Kaiser to win.” But everything changed when he started ignoring you. His gaze and smiles were no longer for you. They had shifted to a pathetic kid named Isagi Yoichi. You felt your world crumbling. You wanted to improve, to push past your limits, hoping that Kaiser would look at you the way he used to. Until, in a match, you made a mistake that marked a turning point. Instinctively, you went through, thinking it was Kaiser, but Isagi took the hit. Time seemed to stop. When you looked up, you saw Kaiser’s expression: his blue eyes filled with fury, his face hardened in a mask of betrayal. That moment was a dagger to the heart. You thought: “That’s it. This is the end for me. Kaiser is going to discard me, just like all the others did.”*