Chapter Text
The book felt heavier than it probably should have.
Maybe because it was seven hundred and eighty-nine pages of pure nonsense. Okay maybe not pure nonsense as the story wasn’t bad.
Or maybe because Isagi Yoichi had just spent six straight hours reading a reverse harem manga novel where a guy with his exact name got publicly humiliated.
The apartment was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner and the faint city noise bleeding through the windows. His reading lamp cast a warm amber glow over the couch while empty coffee cans crowded the table beside him. Isagi stared at the final page.
And thus, Hana’s brilliant future began surrounded by the people who loved her most—
He slowly closed the book.
“…That was the longest thing I’ve ever read.”
His fingers drummed against the cover.
THE BLUE IDOL.
The metallic blue font almost mocked him.
At first, it had honestly been entertaining. A man named Jinpachi Ego creating an idol survival project? Weirdly interesting.
The heroine, Suzuki Hana, had surprised him too. She wasn’t one of those painfully bland protagonists that existed solely to blush and trip into men’s arms. She was sharp. Funny. Reckless in an oddly charming way. The type of person who could drag chaos behind her and somehow make everyone enjoy it.
He could understand why everyone in the story gravitated toward her.
Unfortunately, the novel also contained Isagi Yoichi.
Who happens to be his namesake.
And what a disaster that guy was.
Isagi leaned back against the couch with a long sigh, rubbing his face.
“God…”
The novel version of him was talented. Very talented.
And that was the frustrating part.
The author constantly mentioned his vocal range, his talent...But every single ounce of that talent got shoved into cheap trend-chasing music by his garbage agency.
Songs that exploded online for three weeks before vanishing forever.
Disposable music, disposable image, disposable person.
And then there was Kira.
Isagi grimaced immediately at the memory.Even while reading, he’d wanted to physically grab the fictional character by the collar and launch him through a wall.
The guy treated Novel Isagi like some clingy emotional pet. Feeding him just enough affection to keep him obedient while constantly belittling him behind closed doors.
And Novel Isagi just…Accepted it?
Because he was desperate. Desperate for love, for attention, for someone to stay.
The small detail about his parents dying in a car accident years earlier suddenly resurfaced in Isagi’s head. One paragraph buried beneath romance drama and stage competition.
Isagi clicked his tongue. “What a waste.”
That was all the story ever treated him as in the end. A villain whose jealousy consumed him because the heroine naturally attracted everyone around her.
Meanwhile Hana collected people like limited-edition merchandise.
Blue Lock idols, international dancers, musicians, singers… At some point Isagi had genuinely lost count of how many men were in love with her. The final pages practically looked like a luxury brand advertisement mixed with a dating simulator.
He dropped the book onto the table.
Thunk.
Outside the apartment windows, Tokyo glowed alive beneath the night sky.
He should sleep.
Tomorrow his schedule started again.
Recording sessions,dance rehearsals, meetings, interviews…Another cycle. His phone buzzed beside him with several unread messages from his manager reminding him not to stay awake too late.
Too late.
Isagi snorted quietly.
He had already ruined that.
Pushing himself off the couch, he stretched his arms over his head before grabbing the empty coffee cans.
The moment he stepped outside his apartment building, cold night air brushed against his face.
The streets were quieter now with few passing cars. Neon signs flickering softly.
The distant sound of laughter from somewhere down the block.
Isagi adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt lower over his face and started walking toward the convenience store across the street.
And then—
Headlights.
A horn blared.
Hooooooooonk!
Someone screamed.
Isagi’s eyes widened.
“—What?”
The world snapped white.
———
A strange floating numbness swallowed his body whole before sensation violently crashed back all at once.
His eyes flew open. A white ceiling stared back at him.
This was not his ceiling.
His ceiling was dark blue with black painted swirls curling across it because he’d once lost a bet during trainee years and ended up liking the design too much to repaint it.
This ceiling was plain.
Familiar in a way that made his stomach drop.
Isagi bolted upright. “…What the fuck.”
The room around him was small with clothes scattered carelessly over a chair, a cheap standing mirror, music sheets.
His breath stopped.
His heartbeat started pounding violently in his chest.
“No.”
He scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping over himself before grabbing the nearest magazine. The cover stared back at him.
ISAGI YOICHI OF ICHINAN AGENCY CAUSES ANOTHER SCANDAL?!
“Oh you have got to be kidding me—”
He lunged for the phone charging on the desk.
The lockscreen lit up instantly.
Same face but different life.
His hands trembled slightly as he opened the calendar.
14/03.
Silence.
“…Two days before Blue Lock Auditions begins...”
The realization hit him like another truck.
“No no no no—”
He stumbled backward before grabbing his own hair.
“This is insane.”
His voice cracked loudly through the room.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
The shout echoed through the building.
Somewhere beyond the wall, someone yelled angrily for him to shut up.
Isagi ignored it completely.
His breathing came fast as thoughts crashed into each other violently.
The novel.
The accident.
The room.
The date.
The body.
His brain was running a goddamn marathon. He was inside the story.
Actually inside it.
His gaze slowly drifted toward the mirror. Messy dark blue hair, blue eyes. Basically a face identical to his own but younger.
For several long seconds, Isagi simply stared at himself.
Then he inhaled deeply. “…Okay.”
He pressed both hands against the desk and lowered his head.
“Okay. Situation assessment.”
He was Isagi Yoichi.
Not his world’s Isagi Yoichi.
The novel’s Isagi Yoichi.
A hated idol with a trash reputation, an emotionally manipulative boyfriend, a failing image, and approximately six hundred death flags attached to his existence.
“…Great.”
He opened the calendar again.
Two days.
Two days before auditions began.
Two days before he publicly embarrassed himself exactly like the story intended.
Isagi slowly straightened.
Then he laughed. “Heh…”
His reflection stared back at him.
Different world, different industry and a different life.
But still him.
And in any universe Isagi Yoichi was Isagi Yoichi.
The top of the music industry in his world. A man who clawed his way upward with talent sharp enough to devour entire stages whole.
His eyes narrowed slowly.
“…So I gotta build my empire from re zero.”
Because if this world expected him to quietly play the role of some pathetic throwaway villain. Then this world was about to learn exactly who it had dragged into its story.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“Tell me I can’t do it.” he murmured softly to the empty room.
Then his smile sharpened. “And sit down to watch how it’s done.”
Silence settled again.
Kira.
That parasite had to go first.
Isagi’s expression flattened instantly. He grabbed the phone and opened the messages and immediately wanted to throw the device into the wall.
The texts were unbearable. Manipulative, condescending, possessive disguised as affectionate.
Every message practically screamed “You need me.”
Novel Isagi really tolerated this?
Cause it made his eye twitched.
“…This guy is a loser.”
His thumb froze.
Slowly, Isagi’s gaze lowered toward the music files section on the phone. A strange feeling crawled up his spine.
No way. He clicked it open.
Folders appeared instantly.
Demo tracks, lyrics, voice notes, unreleased songs… His songs.
Not Novel Isagi’s.
His.
His songs from his original world.
For a moment, Isagi stopped breathing entirely. The screen reflected in his widened eyes.
A smile spread across his face.
This was a one time opportunity.
The idol industry of this world had never heard these songs before, never seen those concepts, never experienced the performances he already knew could shake entire arenas.
And Isagi already knew exactly which sounds would dominate audiences.
His fingers tightened around the phone.
“Let’s do world domination.”