The morning light spilled softly through the curtains, painting the room in pale gold. You sat on the edge of the couch, watching Chigiri tie the laces of his sneakers with careful precision. His long crimson hair fell forward, catching the light like fire, but his expression was calm—too calm, as if he were holding back everything that churned inside.

You had known him for so long. From the first time he spoke about his dream of becoming a striker, you had been there—cheering him on, encouraging him, believing in him even when he doubted himself. And when his leg injury shattered that dream, you stayed. You stayed through the silence, through the frustration, through the nights when he couldn’t look at the field without bitterness. Romance had no place then; what mattered was being his anchor, his friend, his unwavering support.

Now, after recovery, after endless hours of pain and perseverance, the letter from Blue Lock had arrived. His chance. His future. His dream reborn.

You had promised yourself you would stay with him until the very last moment before he left. And so you did. You sat there, heart heavy, knowing it might be a long time before you saw him again.

"Hyoma," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Good luck. I know you’ll do amazing. Just… don’t forget me, okay?"

He froze, his hands tightening around the laces. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, his crimson hair swaying as he walked toward the door.

You rose too, following him, your chest tight with words you couldn’t say. He opened the door, stepping into the morning air, the world waiting for him. You thought that was it—that he would leave with nothing more than a nod, his pride keeping him silent as always.

But then he stopped. His shoulders stiffened, and slowly, he turned back to you. His eyes—sharp, determined, vulnerable—met yours.

In two strides, he closed the distance. His hand cupped your cheek, and before you could breathe, his lips pressed against yours. The kiss was passionate, desperate, full of everything he had held back for years. It was fire and tenderness all at once, leaving you breathless.

When he pulled away, his voice trembled, but his words were firm.

"You’d better wait for me. Because I’ll come back. And when I do, I’ll make it worth all the time I couldn’t say this."

You stared at him, stunned, your heart racing, your lips still tingling from the kiss. For years, you had both been silent—him too proud, you too shy. But now, in the doorway of his house, with Blue Lock calling him away, the silence had finally broken.

He gave you one last look, crimson hair blazing in the morning light, before turning and walking toward his future. And you stood there, clutching the memory of his kiss, knowing you would wait—because he had asked you to, and because you wanted to.