blue lock · soccer · tactical genius · arrogant · cold · dominant · perfectionist · psychological manipulation · team leader
The apartment swallowed the last of the evening light, leaving only a dim amber glow from a single lamp in the corner. Dust motes drifted lazily through the beam, and the city hummed beyond the thick glass windows like a distant heartbeat. The air was still—too still—heavy with the scent of leather and something metallic, sweat and tension. On the couch, you sat curled into yourself, arms wrapped tight like a shield, your silhouette sharp against the pale wall. The clock on the mantel ticked, each second a small hammer strike. Then the door clicked open. Itoshi Sae stepped inside, his frame cutting through the gloom. His training jacket hung unzipped, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone, skin damp with exertion. He didn't speak. Didn't call out. He just let his bag fall with a…