[Blue Lock: Tempest] Chapter 1 - Dream (I) (Patreon)

AN: I've recently binge-watched Blue Lock, and due to the guys on Aizen's discord, I thought about trying my hand at writing a fic for it. It's something different than my usual jam, so it's a bit challenging for me.

Plot: An orphan living in poverty with a dream to make it big. Football was the only thing he was good at, it was his only hope. To him, football was not just a hobby or a career option. It was his lifeline.

Warning: There is no chakra, there are no superpowers. Yes, it's basically an original character with Naruto's appearance and some of his personality traits. Why am I not making it a pure Blue Lock fic instead of a crossover? Because I'm a narutotard.

As for the pairing, there are almost no girls in Blue Lock, so I'm bringing over one of my favourite female characters from another anime with a modern world setting - Highschool of the Dead. The pairing is Naruto/Saeko Busujima, no harem. But keep in mind that romance is secondary; the primary focus of the story is football.

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Chapter 1 - Dream (I)

"It's noodles again."

A heavy sigh came out of his chest as he peeled off the top of the instant ramen cup and poured some water into it.

Three minutes later, the microwave oven's beeping sound signalled that it was ready.

As he slurped on his noodles, he looked at his surroundings with a tired, dead look in his eyes. That had to be the tiniest apartment in existence - with a length of 4 metres and a width of 2 metres, there was only enough space for a single-person bed, a toilet, a small sink, a stool with a microwave oven on top of it, and a narrow shower cab. The room was so cramped that the shower cab and the sink were literally next to the bed, with the toilet being the only thing half a metre away. It was not that different from a prison cell.

Looking at his deplorable living conditions, a node appeared in his neck, and he stopped eating. He couldn't even swallow his food anymore.

Leaving his cup of ramen and his chopsticks on top of the microwave oven for a moment, he stood up and pulled out the drawer under the bed - that was the only place where he could store his clothes. Grabbing a worn-out orange hoodie and a pair of washed black joggers, he changed from his high school uniform into those clothes. On his feet, he was wearing a pair of beat-up checkered Vans sneakers, but their soles were so thin and worn out that it felt almost as if he was walking barefoot.

Grabbing his cup of ramen and his chopsticks in one hand, he only stopped a bit in front of the door to grab his football from the floor before leaving his tiny apartment behind.

A few minutes later, he stopped at a nearby public park for children.

Seeing as it was at sunset, there were no children at all. He was the only person there. Matching the poor district he was living in, the playground didn't look that great either, but it was many times better than the gloomy sight of his tiny one-room apartment.

Once he was done eating his now-cold noodles, he threw the cup and the chopsticks into a nearby trash bin and grabbed his football.

Although he was exhausted from his part-time job, his dead eyes seemed to come to life the moment his foot touched the ball. Hours passed as he played by himself, the wall of a building his only passing partner.

Football was his refuge. It was the only thing that gave him the strength to keep on struggling, to keep on living. It was the only thing that gave him hope.

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By the time he stopped, it was almost midnight. Carrying his football under his arm, the teen trudged back to his tiny home.

"Tomorrow school. And then work again."

His grip on the ball tightened.

'I can't keep on living like this.'

He was an orphan. His mother died giving birth to him, and his father died of overworking two years ago. He had nothing to his name, no relatives to support him, no money, not even good grades at school - and even if he had been gifted when it came to studying, it would have not amounted to much considering that he had to work every day after school in order to live. Just paying the rent for his matchbox-like apartment and putting food on his table was a struggle.

As it was, he had no future. He would be slaving away his entire life doing manual labour just to survive.

'No. I still have a chance.'

A tiny hope. An almost impossible chance... ...but it was the only thing he could cling to - the hope that one day, he would become a professional football player.

If there was one thing he was talented at, it was football. Whether at school or among the boys and young men living in the neighbourhood, he had never met anyone better than him. That was his gift.

However...

'Football is a game with eleven people in a team.'

No matter how good he was, it was too hard for him to win all the games by himself if his other teammates didn't pull their weight - and that was exactly the case for his high school football team. As a high school where most students who attended were from the slums, whether it was in academics or in sports, it was one of the worst schools in Tokyo.

'I can't give up!' he thought and his hands pressed so hard against the football that his fingernails became white.

'It's my last year of high school! Even if it kills me, we have to win. We have to go to the nationals!'

He was 18 years old; he was already considered a little old for being selected by a professional football club. Most clubs tended to take in teens around the ages of 14 or 15 and shape them up into the players they needed.

But, more importantly, it was the last chance he had to attract a football club's attention. As small as the chance for his high school team to pass the prefectural qualifier tournament was, it was his only hope. It was the only way he could see out of his current lifestyle. The only way to escape from the hell of poverty.

⁂ A few weeks later ⁂

"Stop him! No matter what, don't let him shoot!" the goalkeeper yelled at his teammates. "I can't take this freak's shots if he gets inside the box."

From the side of the pitch, the coach of the other team hollered at his players:

"Uzumaki! Stop hogging the ball, you selfish prick!"

Flanked by a midfielder and a full-back defender and facing off against a centre-back, Naruto was driven off close to the touchline.

"You hear me, Uzumaki?! PASS THE BALL!" the coach screamed until his voice became hoarse.

As if he couldn't hear his coach's instructions, Naruto planted his left foot firmly into the ground and moved back his main foot in a motion that seemed as if he was about to shoot.

Although his positioning was awkward - he was on the left side of the pitch, between the touchline and the corner of the penalty area - the three opposite team players did not dare underestimate him because he had already scored once that day from a similar position.

"Stop him!" several players from the opposite team screamed at the same time, and the full-back and centre-back defenders that had been containing him charged at him simultaneously for a tackle.

"Oh shit!" the midfielder at his flank cussed.

That's because it was a feint. Knowing that the opposite team was terrified of his shooting, Naruto had baited the centreback defender into tackling him thoughtlessly and slipped the ball through his legs before rushing past him like a bullet.

Leaving behind the 3 players that had been containing him, he charged with the ball through the hole that they had left in the defence.

Sweat started pouring down the opposite team's goalie as he watched the blond run towards him like a mad bull. He couldn’t even react to the absolute piss-missile Naruto launched at him - it was only after he felt the wind accompanying the ball blowing past his ear that he realized that Naruto had scored yet another goal.

⁂ Half-time break ⁂

"Listen to me, Uzumaki!" the coach said angrily, almost shouting. "You're good. You're the ace of our team. But if you continue to play that selfishly, I'll be forced to sub you out!"

"Maybe I wouldn't be so 'selfish' if the strikers weren't so fucking useless!"

"What did you say?!" one of his teammates bristled and pushed him.

But, in the next moment, that guy found himself lifted off his feet and slammed into the lockers behind him.

"You're shoving me now, dipshit? Huh? You wanna fight?"

"Uzumaki, put him down! Put him down this instant if you still care about getting on the pitch in the second half!" the coach threatened when Naruto didn't let go of his teammate right away.

Turning towards the coach, Naruto said, his voice filled with anger:

"These guys had three chances to score and fumbled them all! Every time I passed the ball to them, they did jack shit with it! I gave Sato the perfect cross and he was alone with the goalkeeper, but he couldn't even trap the ball, much less shoot! As for Tanaka, he shot off-target two times! Why the fuck should I pass the ball to these idiots?"

The team adopted a standard 4-4-2 formation, and Naruto's position was that of a left winger. As a winger, it was in the job description to create opportunities and pass the ball to the strikers. However, with the forwards of his team fumbling scoring chances so many times, he was forced to shoot himself.

"Football is a sport you play in a team!" the coach retorted. "You can't just-"

"You don't get it, do you? The score is 2-2, and that's only because I scored both times! What's the point of team play and passing around if we can't win? Nothing matters if we don't score!" Naruto shouted back.

The rest of the team sat quietly on the bench and watched the ongoing shouting match, not saying a peep. Their coach had a notoriously bad temper, but Uzumaki Naruto could be even worse sometimes. With his blond hair, his unusually strong and sturdy body, the strange scars on his face, and his violent behaviour, in his teammates' eyes, he looked like a dangerous thug. It was better for them not to get involved in their argument.

"Don't force me to do it, Uzumaki! Don't force my hand, or I'll make you sit on the bench for the rest of the game!"

"You won't ruin this for me, you shitty geezer!" Naruto said dangerously and stepped closer to him. "If you take me out of the game, I swear to god, I'll crush you!"

"Did you just threaten me?" the coach spat back at him and clenched his fists.

"I did. If we lose this game too, we are out of the qualifiers. I'm a senior year, this is my last chance to go to the nationals." he said, getting into his face. "If you sit me out just out of spite and we end up losing the game, I'll make you be afraid to walk alone on the streets of Arakawa. I have nothing else to lose."

The coach subconsciously took a step back from him at those words.

"Goddamn mixed thug," he said in a voice filled with vitriol. "No wonder nobody wants to be around you. Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. But you'll see that you can't win a football game all by yourself."

And with that, the coach left the locker and slammed the door so hard behind him that the whole room rattled.

⁂ Later that day ⁂

"It's over."

He was lying in bed on his back, looking at the peeled-off paint on the ceiling with a numb look on his face.

His dream of becoming a professional football player was essentially over. In the end, the football team's coach's words became true. He could not win the match by himself. Although he scored two more goals in the second half - an impressive total of 4 goals! - even that was not enough.

"Useless fucking trash!" he suddenly said in anger.

The defenders and the goalkeeper played so poorly in the second half that Naruto was almost tempted to believe that it was on purpose. The game ended with the opposite team's victory, with a score of 5-4 in their favour.

"What am I going to do now?"

Football was the only thing he was good at. His grades in school were barely above the passing score, and he didn't have any other notable skills or capabilities. All he had was an athletic body and a talent for football.

Against his will, tears started falling from his eyes. But he wiped them off with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and got up from the bed. It was time for him to go to his part-time job.

⁂

It was around 9 pm when Naruto finally left from his work. Considering that it was the beginning of November, it was dark outside and the temperature was low. A cold drizzle soaked him to the bone.

"Ah, I should quit school," he said to himself as he walked home slowly in spite of the rain, dragging his feet in exhaustion.

He had left everything on the pitch earlier that day, not sparing any effort to win. And after that, he spent four more hours doing nothing but unloading containers filled with furniture. Although he was strong and tough for his age, four hours of lifting and carrying heavy boxes by hand every day were enough to exhaust even grown men.

"Yeah, I should drop out. "There's no point in wasting my time in school anymore."

Until then, he had tried his best to attend high school solely for the sake of being able to play on the high school football team. But now it was over, they lost in the prefectural qualifiers. Seeing as it was his last year of high school, that had been his last chance.

'If I quit, I could get a full-time job.'

If he got a full-time job, he would have more options. He could search for an easier job instead of killing his back every day for chump change.

'Once I save up some money, I could also move out of Tokyo.'

Although he lived in an ill-famed district of Tokyo in an apartment as small as a matchbox, it was still in the capital of Japan. Just the rent for his place was no less than 50000 yen. Adding to that the costs of food and utilities, the money from his part-time job was barely enough for him to survive from one month to another. (1)

'Somewhere in the countryside or a small town. The rent for a similar place wouldn't be even half of what I'm paying now.'

Thinking about that made his mind go back to how his dreams and aspirations were crushed earlier that day. Nevertheless, despite his depression, he was a survivor in the end. He had been surviving and living on his own since the age of 16, when his father passed away.

But as he walked down the garbage-littered streets, an unusual sight attracted his attention: it was a girl, and, by the looks of her stylish fabric overcoat, the elegant umbrella, and the expensive black leather ankle boots she was wearing, well, she did not belong there.

A rich girl gallivanting around the slum area of the Arakawa Ward of Tokyo at that time of the night and alone to boot?

'She must be crazy.'

Japan was known worldwide for its low crime rate, but that did not mean it was a perfect utopia. Crimes still did happen. Walking alone, especially as a girl or a young woman, in an ill-famed neighbourhood at night was clearly tempting the fates.

As if to prove his thoughts right, only a few moments later, he noticed two middle-aged men walking at a moderate pace behind her. One glance was enough for him to realize that they were following her.

'...I can't pretend I didn't see anything, can I?'

Taking out his phone - it was an old but durable model - he typed in the number of the police and started the call.

'What if the police don't get here in time?'

Thinking of that, despite how exhausted he was, his conscience didn't allow him to stay still and pretend it had nothing to do with him. He started following the two men and the young girl from a distance.

After a few minutes of walking, both the girl and the two men following her disappeared around the corner of an intersection. By the time Naruto reached the intersection as well, however, all three of them were nowhere to be seen. Breaking into a run, he rushed to the nearest side alley he could see, all the while expecting the worst.

At that moment, as if to confirm his fears, several screams of pain broke the silence of the night... ...but they were not the screams of a girl.

When he finally arrived at the side alley where the scream had come from, Naruto froze in stupefaction at the sight in front of his eyes.

The girl who looked like a feeble and vulnerable target while walking down the streets was now standing over the unmoving bodies of the two middle-aged men with a bloodied and bent umbrella in her hand and a crazed smile on her face.

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AN:

(1) 50k yen = 335 euros.