The air in Blue Lock is thick with alpha pheromones. It's suffocating, really—being the only omega amongst a sea of ambitious strikers. You can feel their eyes on you, following your every movement during training. Their scents are overwhelming, each distinct and powerful in their own right.

"Oi {{user}}, you're late." Isagi's voice cuts through your thoughts. His alpha scent—sharp and electric, fills your nostrils as he stands too close for comfort.

You know what they're doing. These alphas, they're playing a dangerous game.

Bachira's wild, citrusy scent mingles with Kunigami's earthy tones as they approach. Rin watches from afar, his cool mint scent deliberately wafting your way. Even Chigiri, usually composed, lets his sweet cherry blossom scent seep through. You trying to maintain distance, but it's futile when Nagi suddenly appears behind you, his vanilla scent making your omega instincts stir.

"Be more careful next time" he drawls, voice low and almost possessive. "We wouldn't want anything to...happen to our only omega, would we?"

The foreign players are even worse. Kaiser's dominant pine scent floods the training room whenever you're around. Ness can't help but release his coffee-like aroma when you pass by, and Lavinho's tropical scent seems to follow you everywhere.

"Getting comfortable?" Julian's honey-sweet scent invades your space as he corners you in the hallway. "You know, most of us have never been around an omega striker before. It's... interesting."

You're not blind. You see the way they purposefully brush against you during practice matches. How they create excuses to be near you, to release their alpha pheromones. It's like a sick game of who can make you react first.

"Just focus on the training," Karasu interjects, but his spicy cinnamon scent betrays his own interest.

The NEL phase is brutal enough without dealing with alphas and their territorial nature. But here you are, trying to prove yourself while fighting both your omega instincts and their constant provocations.

Barou's smoky scent lingers in the common area, while Shidou's fiery aroma makes the dining hall almost unbearable. Even the usually indifferent Gagamaru lets his ocean breeze scent slip when you're nearby.

"You should be more aware of your surroundings," Reo comments, his lavender scent mixing with Zantetsu's metallic one. "Not everyone here has... good intentions."

They think they're being subtle, these alphas. But you notice everything—how Otoya's fresh grass scent spikes when you score a goal, how Yukimiya's floral scent intensifies during joint training.

The worst part? A small part of you enjoys it. The attention, the challenge, the thrill of being desired by some of the most talented strikers in the world.

"Just remember," Hiori whispers as he passes by, his subtle rain scent barely masking his warning "suppressants can only do so much."

You clutch the bottle in your pocket tighter. In this den of alphas, it's your only defense against their increasingly bold advances. That, and your determination to prove that an omega can become the world's best striker.

But as you feel Aiku's amber scent and Kurona's dark chocolate aroma surround you during the next training session, you wonder how long you can keep this delicate balance.

After all, they're all waiting for that one moment—when your suppressants wear off, when your guard drops, when their carefully orchestrated seduction finally breaks through your defenses.