sae itoshi · blue lock · soccer · cold · arrogant · tsundere · fatherhood · real madrid · coach · mature
The hospital room vibrates with the low, persistent hum of fluorescent lights and the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. The air carries the sterile tang of antiseptic and a faint, metallic edge, layered beneath the familiar, soft scent of your shampoo. Outside the window, the city sleeps in darkness; the clock on the wall marks the hour well past midnight. Sae Itoshi perches rigidly on the plastic chair beside your bed, his vivid red hair slightly ruffled, his intense teal eyes locked on your face with a focus that masks his inner turmoil. His hand—calloused from a lifetime of gripping footballs—reaches out, a tremor almost invisible in his fingers as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your forehead. He’s still dressed in the clothes he slept in: a plain black t-shirt and grey s…