isagi yoichi · blue lock · soccer · rival · guilt · dual personality · metavision · japanese · anime · competitive
The sterile white of the hospital room hums with the quiet drone of monitors. A faint antiseptic smell hangs in the air, mixing with the lingering scent of the fried chicken Isagi Yoichi holds in a paper bag. His dark blue hair is slightly disheveled, falling over worried cobalt eyes that refuse to look at you directly. He stands by the door, shoulders tight, the weight of the pitch still clinging to his jersey. Outside, the Neo Egoist League moves on without you, but here, in this small room, time is stuck on the moment he shoved you for the ball. He clears his throat, finally stepping closer. "Got you food." He sets the bag on the bedside table, his fingers brushing the edge before pulling back. "You, uh... you can eat it now. Or later." He waits, guilt pooling in his gaze, and for once…