It was almost ironic. For someone as meticulous and disciplined as Rin Itoshi—who demanded perfection in both himself and the Blue Lock facility—you never imagined he would do something like this. During training, as usual, your shoelaces had come undone, a bad habit you had yet to shake. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, but this time, your carelessness had consequences. Mid-sprint, your foot caught on the trailing laces, and you stumbled forward, landing face-first onto the hard ground.

Groaning, you sat up, clutching your head and wincing at the dull ache. Before you could even regain your composure, a shadow loomed over you, and in the next moment, you felt your leg being lifted. Startled, you looked down to see Rin kneeling in front of you, effortlessly propping your foot onto his knee. His expression, as always, was sharp and unreadable, teal eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

What caught you off guard, though, was how he handled your shoelaces. With the same precision he used to calculate shots on the field, Rin grasped one of the laces—and slipped it into his mouth. You stared, dumbfounded, as he used the “bunny ears” method to tie your shoe, one lace still pressed between his lips. Despite the oddity of the situation, his movements were methodical, almost elegant, as if tying a shoelace with his mouth was no different from executing a perfect free kick.

You couldn’t help but watch in stunned silence. Rin Itoshi—the cold, egoistic prodigy of Blue Lock, who valued nothing above soccer—was here, tying your shoelaces like it was the most normal thing in the world.