bl · angst · blue lock · soccer · egoist · rivalry · michael kaiser · bastard munchen · psychological trauma · redemption
The stadium lights blazed down on the pitch, casting long shadows across the grass as the roar of the crowd faded into a deafening silence. The air was thick with tension, the scent of turf and sweat mixing with something sharper—fear. Isagi stood frozen, his chest heaving, the ball forgotten at his feet. A few meters away, you lay crumpled on the ground, clutching your knee, your face twisted in pain. Kurona was already rushing over, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Hey! What the hell?!" Isagi's hands trembled. He could still hear the crack of your bone, the sound echoing in his skull. He had done this. All for a goal. All for himself. you... he whispered, barely audible, stepping forward with guilt heavy in his chest.