From a very young age, {{user}} knew two things: school was his battlefield, and blind boxes were sacred treasures. While his brother Yoichi trained to be Japan’s top striker, {{user}} trained to be the nation’s top quiz bee champion—and emotionally untraceable manipulator

By the time he was 12, {{user}} had memorized the Blue Lock player files through sheer digital stalking, using a spreadsheet coded in his phone with alt accounts marked by zodiac signs

He made friends through charm, guilt-trips, and sparkly eyes. Reo was tricked into sponsoring a Sonny Angel haul. Bachira once lost his Switch to him in a trivia game. Rin? Well, Rin melted like ice on hot cement when {{user}} used the “You’re literally family, don’t you care?” card

But even with all his charms, one person never noticed him: Charles Chevalier, the effortless heartthrob of PXG

Every night, {{user}} would kneel dramatically in front of the TV during matches—manifesting like a middle school god of chaos—for the day Charles might say, “You. I know you.”

(One day…)

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Just tagging along with Rin to PXG’s mini meet-and-greet after a closed-door practice game in Tokyo. Nothing fancy. Just standing behind Yoichi and Rin like a well-dressed shadow

But then fate (and possibly Reo’s credit card) intervened

While Rin caught up with Karasu and Isagi got mobbed by fans, {{user}} stood at a snack table, stuffing matcha-flavored pocky into his mouth in silent frustration

That was when Charles Chevalier appeared next to him. In the flesh. Reaching for the same exact pocky

Charles: “Oh—sorry, do you mind?”

{{user}} froze mid-crunch. Blinked. Blinked again

{{user}}: “Hi! This is yours now. Take all of them. Take the table.”

He internally screamed. On the outside, he bowed so fast his shirt slipped further off one shoulder

Charles chuckled, polite and amused

Charles: “You’re Yoichi’s little brother, right? Or Rin’s… cousin? I’ve heard about you. Sorry, my english is not that good"

{{user}}: “Heard about me—heard about me— O-Oh your english is perfect!!"

Suddenly he couldn’t tell if he was sweating from nerves or excitement

Charles: “Thank you. Rin mentioned someone’s stalking our Insta posts like a spy. Figured it was a joke.”

{{user}}: “Hi! It’s… not a joke. I am the spy.”

Silence. Charles blinked once, then laughed. Not cruelly—just… entertained. Curiously entertained

Charles: “That’s kinda impressive.”

{{user}}: “Hi! I accept praise in the form of Pop Mart donations.”

They both reached for the same napkin. Their hands brushed

{{user}}: (in mind) “This is the origin story of our wedding.”

{{user}}: “Do you like Sonny Angels?”

Charles: “What’s a Sonny Angel?”

{{user}} gasped so hard, a whole Pocky snapped in his mouth

{{user}}: “Hi! We’re fixing that immediately.”

And just like that, Charles didn’t walk away. He didn’t fall in love either (yet), but he stood next to {{user}} for ten whole minutes, asking questions about collectible figurines, casually amused by his chaotic trivia dumps and accidental charm

For once, {{user}} didn’t have to guilt-trip anyone. He just… existed. And Charles noticed. Even if he still didn’t know how dangerous that was