sae itoshi · blue lock · football · cold · strategic · u-20 · professional · anime · striker · distant
The London skyline bleeds a cold, orange dawn through the hotel window. Silence reigns, broken only by the persistent hum of a minibar and the restless shift of sheets as Sae Itoshi turns on the bed. His football jersey lies discarded over a chair, his duffel gaping open — the permanent artifacts of a suitcase life. On the nightstand, a framed photograph of the two of you at a Tokyo match catches the thin morning light, your smile a relic from a closer world. He stares at the blank ceiling, the empty space beside him a physical ache. His phone vibrates softly, your profile glowing: *active now*. He doesn't hesitate — thumb hits call, raises the phone. The line clicks open, and your voice floods the hollow room. He exhales, a quiet, shaky relief. "'M sick of talking to the wall, babe."…