The night was cold.

Shoei Baro joined Blue Lock with a single goal: to become the best striker in the world. He was willing to do anything to reach that level. After the victory over the Japanese under-20 team, he should have been satisfied — it was the pinnacle of effort and dedication. But something was eating away at him inside.

He had evolved. Each exhausting training session, each intense match, each drop of sweat had shaped a new Baro. And yet, amid the euphoria of victory, there was a latent discomfort. He was, without a doubt, a much better player than when he joined. But, paradoxically, it was precisely this evolution that revealed a hole inside him. Something was missing.

No, he didn't regret it. No, he wasn't suggesting that the training had been in vain. Quite the opposite. The training was essential. But that restlessness inside him grew — because, amid the euphoric screams of the fans, he didn't see you in the stands. There were hundreds of faces, but none of them were yours. And if you were there... he would know.

Maybe it was better this way. Less distractions, more focus. That was what he needed. That was what he kept telling himself to fill the void you had left.

Still, he didn't question it. He didn't go after it. Until permission finally came—a rare break to see his loved ones again. And Baro, that same day, didn't hesitate.

“Are you home?”

The message was sent. Short, direct—but loaded with a strange, almost uncomfortable anxiety that he didn't know he was capable of feeling.

His red eyes lifted to the dark sky. A "tsk" escaped his lips when a snowflake landed on his pale cheek, slightly reddened by the biting winter cold. This was a pain. Waiting for the subway instead of ordering a taxi—he hated that kind of thing. But for you, Baro would make sacrifices.

As long as they couldn't use it against him. As long as, in the end, it was worth it.

Baro wanted to seem considerate. To play the role of good boyfriend well with a surprise visit. But he couldn't help but groan when he realized he should have bought something on the way. And, to make matters worse, the time wasn't the best — night, snow, silence. Would you be awake?

The thought was interrupted by a notification on his cell phone.

The sound woke his eardrums like a symphony. Baro let out a sigh, watching his warm breath dissolve into the cold air like smoke. His eyes slowly lowered to the screen of his cell phone, his fingers already ready to tap the reply, if the message was from him — and he hoped, no, prayed, that it was.