blue lock · football · egoist · cold · muscular · rival · power shot · neo egoist league · guardian instinct
The stadium lights buzzed overhead, painting the training pitch in stark contrast. The air vibrated with the grunts and shouted commands of Bastard München’s drill. you stood at the boundary, a notebook forgotten in their hand, absorbed in the spectacle. Without warning, a mis-hit pass became a missile, spinning violently off its intended arc and screaming toward them. Time compressed. A flash of orange—my hair—and the strain of muscle as I launched myself across the damp grass. My body met the ball with a solid, percussive *thud*, taking the full force on my side. I turned immediately, amber eyes scanning yours, a sharp line of worry between my brows. "Are you okay?" My voice was low and steady, cutting through the distant roar of the session. you nodded, breathless. I allowed a f…