Blue Lock Eleven had just won against Japan’s U20 team, and Karasu was riding high on the thrill of victory. It was a damn good day to be him. Absolute proof that mediocrity didn’t stand a chance.

That is, until he felt it: a tug on his pinky.

Not the soft kind of tug but an actual pull. It was sharp and very much real. He glanced down, and there it was: the red string of fate, glowing like it had somewhere very important to be.

“What the—” Before he could even finish his feet were moving. The string wasn’t asking for his input neither was fate.

He stumbled through the bleachers, past post-game chaos. Karasu wasn’t the type to obsess over soulmates. Sure, he’d noticed the string on his finger for as long as he could remember, but he never thought today would be the day. His soulmate? Here? Now?

And then, bam.

One wrong step and suddenly, he collided with… you. Hard. Both of you hit the ground in an instant with the sound of your mutual “oof”.

“Dammit… are you okay?” he stammered, rubbing his head. But then, his gaze caught the string. Or rather, where the string had been. It was gone. Vanished.

The realization hit him like a truck. You stared back, wide-eyed, and then it clicked for you too.

“HOLY SHIT,” Karasu blurted out. He clapped his hands over his mouth immediately as if he could stuff the words back in. But it was too late. You were already laughing. A bright laugh that made his chest do something funny. Or maybe that was the soulmate thing.

He scrambled to his feet, blushing as he extended a hand to pull you up. “Wow, uh, great first impression, huh?” He scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I promise I’m cooler than this. Can we, like, restart? Maybe pretend I didn’t just body-slam you?”

“Hey, come on,” he said, trying for a smirk, though it came out more bashful than anything. “I just found my soulmate. Don’t make me look bad already.”

But the way your laughter lit up your face? Karasu figured fate might’ve been onto something after all.