Blue Lock: A New Game Begins

A New Beginning

The first thing Izuku noticed was the distant beeping of machines and the sterile scent of antiseptic. His eyelids felt heavy, but he managed to open them, revealing a pale ceiling bathed in the glow of fluorescent lights. Confusion gripped him as he tried to move, only for a dull ache to radiate through his body.

"Where… am I?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse and dry. A nurse's face appeared above him, her expression softening as she realized he was awake.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," she said warmly. "You've been asleep for a while. Let me get the doctor and inform your parents."

As she left, Izuku's gaze wandered to the IV drip beside him, the slow rhythm of the saline drops matching the tempo of his thoughts. Memories danced at the edge of his consciousness, blurred and fragmented. He couldn't quite remember what had happened, but an odd sense of dissonance settled in his chest—like he was someone else entirely. Flashes of memories—blurry and fragmented—flickered in his mind, feelings of a life that wasn't quite his. Moments of cheering at matches, the sound of a ball striking the net, and the hollow ache of regret from unfulfilled dreams played like a distant echo. These weren't dreams—they felt real, as if they belonged to someone else. The dissonance in his chest grew stronger as he struggled to make sense of it all.

The door creaked open, and a woman with kind eyes and a tearful smile rushed in. "Izuku! You're awake!" she cried, enveloping him in a gentle hug. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, "We were so worried about you. I… I thought…" Her voice cracked, and she pulled back slightly, cupping his face with trembling hands.

Behind her stood a tall man with a warm but weary smile. His voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed his relief. "You gave us quite the scare, kiddo," he said, ruffling Izuku's hair.

Izuku blinked at them, their faces unfamiliar yet comforting. It was unsettling to know he couldn't recall them, yet their warmth made him feel safe. "They're my parents now," he thought, gripping the blankets tightly. The thought should have frightened him, but it didn't. Instead, it filled him with a cautious hope. "Maybe this time, I can do things differently. Maybe this time, I can truly belong here."" Izuku blinked at them, their faces unfamiliar yet comforting. These were his parents now, Inko and Hisashi Midoriya.

Meeting the Midoriyas

The door to his room creaked open, and Inko Midoriya, his mother, rushed in with tears in her eyes. "Izuku! You're awake!"

Behind her was Hisashi Midoriya, a tall man with a warm but weary smile. He placed a reassuring hand on Inko's shoulder before stepping closer to the bed. "You gave us quite the scare, kiddo," he said softly. "But you're strong, just like your mom said you'd be." His tone was steady, and though his words were simple, they carried a quiet strength that seemed to ground both Inko and Izuku.

For the next few hours, Izuku's parents stayed by his side, talking to him and filling in the gaps about what happened. Hisashi, who had taken time off from his job abroad, offered calm and steady words, ensuring that both Inko and Izuku felt supported. "We're here for you, son," he said at one point, his voice firm but gentle. "No matter what." Hisashi had taken time off from his job abroad to be with them during the crisis, and Inko had hardly left his side. Their love and concern warmed Izuku's heart, making him feel deeply connected to this family.

Over the following weeks, as the initial shock of waking up faded, Izuku focused on rehabilitating. The process was slow and often frustrating, but it marked the beginning of his adjustment to this new life with the Midoriyas. His once boundless energy was now tempered by the need to rebuild his strength. Physical therapy sessions became a regular part of his routine, where he worked to regain his coordination and stamina. While he followed the exercises diligently, there was an unusual calmness in his demeanor that Inko couldn't help but notice.

Inko often sat by his side during these sessions, her hands nervously clutching her lap. As she watched him methodically complete his exercises, her mind drifted to the Izuku before his accident. He had always been cheerful and full of energy, but there was a naivety to him, a carefree nature that she cherished. Now, while still kind and respectful, there was a seriousness about him, a focus that felt foreign. It wasn't just his dedication to soccer—it was in the way he carried himself, how he spoke with a maturity that seemed beyond his years.

She recalled the days before his injury, how he would run to her after school, excitedly talking about cartoons or showing her his latest doodles. That childlike exuberance had been replaced with something quieter, more contemplative. It worried her, though she didn't know how to voice it. When she mentioned it to Hisashi during one of their calls, he brushed it off, saying, "Maybe he's just growing up faster, Inko. Kids change after big events."

But Inko couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just growing up. It was something deeper, as if Izuku had seen or experienced more than he should have. She kept these thoughts to herself, resolving instead to support him in every way she could, even if she didn't fully understand where this newfound drive came from. Whatever had changed him, she would be there to help him through it.

One afternoon, as she helped Izuku with his stretches, she asked gently, "Izuku, are you feeling okay? You've been so… mature lately. It's like you're a little adult sometimes."

Izuku hesitated, caught off guard. "I… guess I've just been thinking a lot, Mom. About what I want to do and how lucky I am to have you and Dad." He gave her a soft smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Inko smiled back, though the unease lingered.

At first, Izuku kept his past life a secret, unsure how to explain it. Instead, he focused on adapting to this new world, which seemed brighter and more vibrant than his previous one. He quickly noticed how people's hair and eye colors were far more diverse, and their personalities seemed exaggerated, almost cartoonish. It was like stepping into a dream.

A Growing Passion

One day, while walking home from school with Inko, Izuku's attention was caught by a group of children playing soccer in a nearby park. He stopped in his tracks, watching intently as the ball moved across the field with precision and energy. Memories of his old life flooded back—the matches he watched, the players he admired, and the regret of never trying harder to play.

"Mom, can I play soccer?" Izuku asked, his voice filled with excitement.

Inko chuckled, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm. "Of course, sweetie. If that's what you want, we'll sign you up for lessons."

True to her word, Inko enrolled Izuku in a local youth soccer club for children. The club was small but vibrant, filled with kids brimming with energy and an obvious love for the game. Watching him at his first practice, Inko couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride and worry. Soccer was not something he had ever shown interest in before, and now it seemed to have sparked an almost unrelenting passion in him, unlike anything Inko had seen.

At first, Izuku struggled to keep up with the other kids. His small frame and lack of experience made him an easy target for teasing. During breaks, some of the older kids would show off their tricks, laughing when Izuku tried to mimic them and stumbled. However, not all interactions were negative. One boy, Daichi, a tall and energetic player, noticed Izuku's determination and started offering him tips.

"You're quick, Izuku," Daichi said one day after practice. "You just need to work on controlling the ball better. Here, try this drill."

Izuku nodded eagerly, grateful for the advice. They began practicing together after regular sessions, with Daichi setting up cones for Izuku to dribble through. Soon, other kids joined in, turning the practice into a friendly competition. These interactions helped Izuku feel more included, and he started forming bonds with his teammates. Each teammate began to notice different aspects of Izuku's growth. Daichi admired his relentless work ethic and ability to pick himself up after every stumble, often saying, "You're like a machine, Izuku. You just don't stop." Another teammate, Akira, appreciated his strategic mind, frequently seeking Izuku's advice during breaks. "Midoriya, how do you always know where the defenders will be? Teach me that trick!" Even Hiro, initially skeptical, had to admit that Izuku's vision on the field was exceptional, though he masked his respect with teasing quips. However, not everyone was quick to warm up to him. One of the older players, Hiro, was skeptical of Izuku's abilities. "He's too small," Hiro muttered to Daichi one day after practice. "No way someone like that can really make a difference."

Daichi frowned but said nothing, though he felt the need to defend Izuku. Later, during a water break, Daichi approached Hiro. "You know, Hiro, you might be underestimating him," Daichi said. "Izuku works harder than anyone here. Just give him a chance."

Hiro scoffed. "Hard work only gets you so far. He's too small to make a real impact."

"Maybe," Daichi replied, crossing his arms, "but if you actually watch him play, you'll see it's not just hard work. He sees things others don't. He's got something special."

Hiro didn't respond, but Daichi's words lingered in his mind. Despite his doubts, Hiro found himself paying more attention to Izuku during the next few drills. Though still skeptical, he couldn't deny the sharpness in Izuku's movements and the thoughtfulness behind his plays. During a break in another practice session, Hiro found himself subconsciously following Izuku's lead in drills. When Izuku suggested a positioning change that immediately improved their attack, Hiro couldn't help but nod in approval, though he tried to mask it with his usual teasing tone. "Guess even you get it right sometimes, Midoriya," he muttered, though there was a trace of genuine respect in his voice. Undeterred by Hiro's skepticism, Izuku focused on improving his skills, driven by an inner determination that left no room for doubt.

The turning point came during a critical practice match. Hiro's team was struggling to break through the opposing defense, and frustration was building. Izuku noticed Hiro's hesitation and ran up to him during a brief break. "Hiro," Izuku said, his voice steady, "if you cut inside on your next run, I can get the ball to you. Trust me."

Hiro hesitated but nodded reluctantly. When the match resumed, Izuku intercepted a pass and quickly analyzed the field. Spotting Hiro making the inside run just as suggested, Izuku delivered a perfectly timed pass. Hiro took the shot, and the ball soared into the net.

As the team erupted in cheers, Hiro turned to Izuku, his expression a mix of surprise and respect. "That was a good pass," he admitted. "Maybe I underestimated you."

From that day on, Hiro began to see Izuku differently. He noticed how Izuku's suggestions were often spot-on, and how his calm demeanor under pressure inspired the rest of the team. Watching Izuku orchestrate plays with such clarity and determination left a lasting impression, even if Hiro was reluctant to admit it outright. During the next match, the team found themselves in a tight spot, struggling to find a way through the opposition's defense. Hiro, now recognizing Izuku's tactical mind, turned to him during a break and said, "Izuku, how do you think we should attack their defense next time?"

Izuku hesitated for only a moment before gathering the team into a small huddle. "If we draw their defenders to the right with a quick pass, we can create an opening on the left. Hiro, you should make the run into that space. I'll feed you the ball."

The team nodded, and when play resumed, they executed the plan perfectly. Hiro's run drew attention, and Izuku's pass slipped past the defenders, allowing Hiro to score. The goal reignited the team's energy, leaving everyone impressed.

"Good call, Midoriya," Hiro said after the match, clapping Izuku on the back. "You're not just smart—you've got the guts to back it up. We'd be lost without you." "You're smarter than you look, Midoriya," Hiro said one day with a teasing grin. "Don't let it go to your head." Inko's heart ached every time she saw him stumble or miss a shot, but she also noticed something different. Despite the challenges, he never gave up. His determination was relentless, and he practiced every day, kicking a ball against the wall in their backyard until his legs ached. Whenever he wasn't practicing, he poured his energy into mastering the fundamentals, pushing himself to understand the intricacies of control, precision, and creativity. One day, after a particularly intense practice session, Daichi sat down beside Izuku during a break. "You know," Daichi began, "our coach always talks about professional players. He says we should watch them to learn how the best play. Have you ever seen someone like Noel Noa?"

Izuku shook his head, intrigued. "Who's Noel Noa?"

"Only the best striker in the world," Daichi said with a grin. "He plays like a machine. You should check him out."

That evening, Izuku couldn't get the thought out of his head. He flipped through channels on TV and stumbled upon a professional soccer match. His eyes lit up as he watched the players move with precision and speed. Among them, one name stood out—Noel Noa, a striker whose playing style was described as "perfect machine dribbling." Izuku was mesmerized as Noa navigated through defenders effortlessly, his movements precise yet creative. It was as if he calculated every possible outcome before making his next move.

Shortly after, another player caught his attention—Leonardo Luna. Unlike Noa, Luna's dribbling was unpredictable and flamboyant, almost like a dance that left defenders scrambling. Izuku couldn't help but marvel at the sheer artistry of it. Watching Luna weave through defenders with such elegance sparked a new idea in his mind. While he admired Noa's precision, Luna's creativity inspired him to think outside the box.

The next time Izuku practiced, he began experimenting with his dribbling, trying to incorporate sudden shifts in direction and feints, much like Luna. Though his movements were still rough and unpolished, he could feel himself starting to understand the importance of creativity in soccer. "If I can mix Noa's precision with Luna's flair," Izuku thought, "I might create my own style of play." Izuku couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. Inspired by their mastery, he made a mental note to incorporate their techniques into his own practice, fueling his resolve to push his limits and excel.

She often watched him from the kitchen window, her hands busy but her eyes fixed on her son. "He's so serious about it," she thought, wiping her hands on a towel. "It's like he's chasing something much bigger than just playing a sport."

Inko started bringing him snacks after practice and asking him about his day. "How was practice today, Izuku? Did you learn anything new?"

"I did, Mom! Coach said my footwork is improving," he replied, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. "I'm getting better at dribbling too!"

Inko smiled and nodded, but the sense that something was different about him lingered. He spoke about soccer with a passion and clarity that felt unusual for his age, as though he had been chasing this dream for years. She couldn't explain it, but she decided to support him wholeheartedly, even if she didn't fully understand where this newfound drive came from.

Setting the Stage

By the time Izuku turned eight, he had become a regular at the soccer club. Despite being one of the youngest and physically less imposing among his peers, he had a moment during a local practice match that marked a turning point in his soccer journey. The game was intense, with both teams tied as the minutes ticked down. The opposing team's defense was relentless, led by their captain, a tall and athletic player named Ryota, whose quick reflexes and commanding presence made him a daunting opponent. Every pass was intercepted, and every attempt to break through was swiftly shut down, leaving Izuku's team scrambling for opportunities. Pressure mounted as Ryota barked orders to his teammates, tightening the defensive line. Izuku felt the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders, aware that Ryota's eyes were locked onto him, ready to pounce on any mistake. Positioned awkwardly as a forward, he hesitated when a pass came his way.

"Don't mess this up, Midoriya!" someone from his team shouted, and a flicker of doubt crept in. For a moment, he froze, overwhelmed by the shouts and the sheer speed of the game around him. But then, something clicked. He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus, his mind clearing as he surveyed the field.

Izuku, positioned awkwardly as a forward, received a pass near the penalty box. The other kids shouted directions, but Izuku instinctively analyzed the field—a skill that had become second nature to him.

Instead of panicking, he feigned a pass to his left and dribbled past two defenders, momentarily catching Ryota off guard. The captain lunged to block him, but Izuku shifted his weight at the last second, slipping past with a deft move that left the field buzzing with excitement. His mind worked quickly, breaking the scene down into patterns. He noticed the defenders shifting their weight slightly too far to the left, creating a narrow gap to his right. Exploiting this, he surged forward, weaving the ball carefully past them. As he approached the goal, he observed the goalkeeper moving subtly toward his right side, anticipating a shot. Izuku made a split-second decision, angling his body to sell the fake before redirecting the ball to his left foot and firing it low and to the corner. It wasn't a strong kick, but it was precise, slipping just past the keeper into the net.

The field erupted in cheers, and his teammates surrounded him, patting him on the back and shouting his name. Amid the celebration, Ryota, the opposing captain, walked over to Izuku with a slight smile. "That was a good play," he said, his voice steady but with a hint of respect. "You saw the gap before anyone else did. You're not bad, Midoriya." Ryota's acknowledgment left Izuku stunned for a moment, but he quickly smiled and nodded. "Thanks," he replied, feeling a newfound sense of pride. Izuku stood there, grinning from ear to ear. For the first time, he felt like he belonged on the field, like he could truly contribute to the game.

Inko, who had been watching from the sidelines, wiped away a tear as she clapped enthusiastically. "That's my boy," she murmured, her pride swelling as she saw him bask in the moment. From that day on, Izuku's confidence soared, and his drive to improve only grew stronger. The coach began to notice his potential and hinted at the possibility of participating in local tournaments. "With the way you're progressing, Izuku," the coach said after a practice match, "you might even catch the eye of a scout someday." The idea of competing at a higher level fueled Izuku's determination even more, pushing him to train harder and refine his skills. Although physically less developed compared to some of his teammates, his dedication and sharp mind set him apart. He had an uncanny ability to analyze plays and anticipate movements, skills that felt almost instinctive.

Inko watched proudly as her son grew more confident, his eyes lighting up whenever he talked about soccer. "You're going to do great things, Izuku," she said one evening as she tucked him into bed. "I just know it."

Izuku smiled, clutching his soccer ball like a lifeline. "Thanks, Mom. I'll make you proud."