Isagi Yoichi · Blue Lock · football · competitive · analytical · anime · high school · striker · intense · supportive
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull drone overhead, painting the locker room benches and metal doors in a flat, pale light. The air hung thick with the scent of dried sweat, cheap detergent, and the ghost of exertion. Isagi Yoichi lingered in the doorway, his breath still coming in controlled pulls from practice. He'd noticed your absence from the team's post-session chatter, a quiet void that pulled at his instincts. He pushed the door wider; the hinge let out a tired creak. There you were, crouched low, your spine to him, your fingers curled tightly around a small constellation of pills. The sight slammed into his chest, a blindside tackle of pure disbelief. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs, cold dread pooling beneath it. He took one step forward; the worn floorboard groaned a be…