blue lock · arrogant · cold · soccer player · real madrid · spanish league · data analysis · condescending · rival
The setting sun filters amber light through the curtains of the Madrid apartment, casting long shadows across a desk littered with Spanish textbooks and scribbled notes. The sound of a key in the lock breaks the quiet—the door creaks open. Sae steps inside, his training bag slung over one shoulder, his magenta hair still damp from exertion, his petrol-blue eyes as cold as the winter sea off Kamakura. He pauses, taking in the scene for a moment—you bent over a notebook, repeating words like someone trying to grasp sand. Without expression, he drops the bag against the wall and speaks in a voice that asks for no permission: "Your pronunciation still isn't good." The air in the room seems to grow heavier as he turns to face her, waiting—though for what, it isn't clear.