Chapter Text
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Warnings: heavy angst, crowd violence, emotional abuse, insults, canon-typical aggression, blood/injury, team conflict, harsh dialogue, panic/stress themes.
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The whistle had already blown.
France won.
Yet Rin Itoshi still stood frozen on the field.
The stadium lights burned against his skin while the giant screen replayed the final goal again and again like mockery. Loki slipping through the broken formation. The hesitation. The failed interception.
His failed interception.
The crowd screamed so loudly the sound became distorted.
Rin barely heard it at first.
His eyes stayed locked on the opposite side of the field where Isagi stood talking to Hugo, both of them breathing hard, discussing something in low voices about “adaptation,” “destiny,” and whatever other garbage Isagi had managed to find meaning in after losing.
Losing.
They lost.
Because the final play had collapsed.
Because he stepped in.
Because he wanted the goal.
Rin’s jaw tightened violently.
“…Shut up.”
But the crowd only grew louder.
“BENCH RIN!”
“USELESS!”
“THROW HIM OUT!”
“SAE’S BETTER!”
The insults rained down endlessly from every direction.
Then something flew from the stands.
A glass bottle.
Rin only caught the movement too late.
Crack.
Pain exploded across the side of his head.
The impact forced him sideways. Warm blood immediately slid down his temple.
The stadium gasped.
Then chaos erupted.
“RIN!”
Bachira sprinted first.
Isagi followed right behind him.
Even Shidou shoved through security barriers with an irritated click of his tongue.
“What the hell are these fans doing—”
Another object nearly hit Rin before Bachira blocked it with his arm.
The crowd somehow got worse after seeing the blood.
“You’re nothing like your brother!”
“SAE WOULD’VE WON!”
“YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!”
That one hit deeper than the bottle.
Rin’s body went still.
Not from fear.
Not from pain.
Just… empty.
The sounds around him dulled while blood dripped steadily down his cheek onto the grass.
Nothing like your brother.
Of course.
Of course that was the only thing people saw.
Not Rin Itoshi.
Just the failed version of Sae.
Security finally forced the team inside the tunnel while reporters screamed questions over each other.
No one spoke on the walk back.
Not even Bachira.
The locker room doors slammed shut behind them.
Silence.
Heavy breathing.
The smell of sweat, blood, and wet grass filled the room.
Rin stood near the entrance, blood still sliding from his forehead.
Nobody moved to help him now.
Then Isagi spoke.
“You know you’re the reason we lost.”
The room tensed instantly.
Rin slowly lifted his eyes.
Isagi’s expression looked twisted. Furious. Exhausted.
“I had the winning formation ready,” Isagi snapped. “Everything was set up perfectly and you ruined it because you couldn’t stop thinking about yourself for one second.”
Rin laughed once under his breath.
Cold.
Sharp.
“You missed too.”
That only made Isagi angrier.
“At least I wasn’t trying to steal the entire field for myself!”
“Enough,” Kunigami muttered.
But nobody listened anymore.
“You destroyed the final play,” Chigiri said quietly from the benches, disappointment far worse than yelling. “We adapted to Isagi’s strategy and then you forced your own move into it.”
Rin stared at him.
“So now you’re all Isagi’s dogs?”
“Watch your mouth,” Yukimiya snapped.
Isagi suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Rin by the collar.
“You selfish—”
Bachira immediately moved. “Yo, Isagi—”
“No,” Isagi hissed, shoving Rin backward. “Say it. Tell everyone why you did it.”
Rin ripped Isagi’s hand off him instantly.
“Because none of you can score without me.”
The room exploded.
Shidou barked out a laugh from the wall.
“There he is.” His grin widened, cruel and entertained. “The genius striker who tanked the entire match because his ego got bruised.”
Rin glared at him.
Shidou walked closer slowly.
“Maybe the crowd was right.”
The room went quiet again.
“You’re just a greedy little goal addict.”
Then Shidou shoved him hard.
Rin hit the ground shoulder-first.
Nobody moved.
Not Bachira.
Not Chigiri.
Not even Isagi.
For the first time since entering Blue Lock, Rin realized no one in the room was on his side.
Then—
The doors opened.
Ego Jinpachi entered.
The entire room stiffened instantly.
His gaze swept across the disaster before landing on Rin sitting on the floor, blood running down his face.
Silence stretched.
Then Ego spoke.
“Well, Rin Itoshi.”
Cold.
Flat.
“You are at fault.”
Nobody breathed.
Rin’s fingers curled slowly against the floor.
“But…” Ego continued, adjusting his glasses, “I suppose this is also the failure of my philosophy.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“I created a system that worshipped individual evolution above all else.”
His voice echoed through the locker room.
“And in the end… none of you could coexist.”
Nobody dared interrupt him.
Ego looked directly at Rin.
“The truth is simple. Your talent is extraordinary.”
Pause.
“But you cannot function within a team.”
The words landed harder than the bottle had.
Rin’s expression didn’t change.
But something behind his eyes did.
Ego turned away.
“You’re all dismissed.”
Just like that.
No speech.
No comfort.
No reassurance.
Only failure.
One by one, the players began leaving the locker room.
Some avoided looking at Rin entirely.
Others looked disappointed.
Annoyed.
Empty.
Isagi stopped near the doorway for half a second before walking out without another word.
Soon the room became silent again.
Only Rin remained.
Blood dripping onto the floor.
Alone.
The bathroom lights were painfully bright.
Rin leaned over the sink, one hand gripping the marble counter while the other wiped blood from the side of his face with a wet paper towel.
The water turned pink instantly.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
His reflection stared back at him.
Pathetic.
A cracked lip. Blood matted in his hair. Eyes darker than usual.
“You lost.”
Rin clenched his jaw harder.
The crowd’s voices still echoed in his skull.
Nothing like your brother.
His breathing became uneven.
He turned the faucet harder.
Cold water splashed against his face again and again like he could wash the sound away.
Then something hot slid down his cheek.
Rin froze.
Another drop followed.
Tears.
His brows furrowed immediately.
“…What?”
His voice sounded rough.
He stared at himself in confusion.
Why was he crying?
Over them?
Over a match?
His chest suddenly tightened violently.
Rin’s hand slipped against the counter.
Breathing became harder.
Too hard.
His lungs refused to work properly no matter how much air he dragged in.
The bathroom suddenly felt too small.
Too loud.
Too bright.
Your fault.
Selfish.
You ruined everything.
Nothing like Sae.
“Shut up,” Rin whispered.
But the voices kept coming.
His knees hit the floor.
Rin grabbed at his shirt over his chest, breaths turning sharp and broken.
He couldn’t breathe.
Why couldn’t he breathe?
His vision blurred.
His heartbeat slammed painfully against his ribs.
For the first time in years, Rin Itoshi felt genuinely afraid.
Not of losing.
Not of Sae.
Not of being hated.
Just—
Alone.
The realization hit harder than anything else.
Nobody came after him.
Not Isagi.
Not Bachira.
Not even Ego.
No one cared enough to check.
Rin curled slightly against the bathroom wall as his breathing completely collapsed.
Then everything went black.
When Rin opened his eyes again, the bathroom was silent.
The lights still buzzed overhead.
For a second he looked around blankly, disoriented.
Then he remembered.
The match.
The locker room.
The voices.
His expression flattened instantly.
“…Right.”
Nobody had come.
Of course not.
Rin slowly pushed himself upright from the floor. His body ached from sleeping against tile, and dried blood stained the side of his neck.
He washed his face again mechanically.
Cold water.
Blank expression.
Nothing else.
By the time he changed clothes and left the stadium, night had already fallen.
Rain drizzled lightly over the city streets.
Rin kept his hood low while walking toward the train station.
People still recognized him anyway.
Whispers followed him immediately.
“That’s him.”
“The Blue Lock guy.”
“The one who screwed up.”
Rin ignored them.
Then a group of teenagers approached him.
Three boys.
Probably around his age.
Phones already out.
“Yo, Rin Itoshi, right?” one asked with a grin. “How’s it feel costing Japan the game?”
Rin walked past him.
The boys followed.
“Oi, don’t ignore us.”
“Thought you were supposed to be a genius.”
“Guess Sae got all the talent, huh?”
Rin’s steps slowed slightly.
His hands curled into fists inside his pockets.
“Leave.”
One of them laughed.
“Ooh, scary.”
Another shoved his shoulder.
Not hard.
Just enough.
Rin snapped instantly and shoved back.
The boy stumbled.
Wrong choice.
“Seriously?” the teen spat. “You think you can act tough after that disaster?”
The mood changed immediately.
Rin realized it too late.
One grabbed him from behind.
Another punched him directly across the face.
Pain exploded through his jaw.
Rin twisted violently, trying to break free, but exhaustion dragged his body down. His reactions were slower than usual.
Another kick hit his ribs.
Then another.
They forced him against the wet pavement.
“Get off—”
A fist slammed into his stomach.
Rin choked hard.
“Crybaby striker.”
“Worthless trash.”
“Nothing like Sae.”
The words hurt worse than the punches.
Rin struggled harder, anger finally cracking into panic when they pinned his arms down completely.
A kick landed against his side.
Then another.
Rin’s vision blurred.
His throat tightened painfully.
To his own horror, tears started falling again.
One of the boys laughed loudly.
“Oh my, he’s actually crying.”
Rin gritted his teeth so hard it hurt.
Humiliation burned through him worse than the pain.
Then—
HONK.
A car horn blasted through the street.
The boys startled.
Bright headlights flooded the alley entrance.
“…oh no ,” one muttered.
The car door opened.
Black dress shoes hit the pavement first.
NI-CHAN