You had known the Itoshi brothers since you were small. Sae and Rin were your best friends, your constants. You loved watching them play soccer, cheering from the sidelines, feeling like part of their world. Sae would buy you ice cream after matches, Rin would tease you but always walk you home. They were your family in every way that mattered.

But when they turned fourteen, everything changed.

Sae grew colder, arrogance replacing warmth. He treated Rin like garbage, dismissing him, belittling him. He never spoke badly to you, but he ignored you, as if cutting ties would make leaving easier. Then he went to Spain, chasing his dream of becoming a professional midfielder.

That departure brought you closer to Rin. For a while, he leaned on you, his resentment toward Sae simmering beneath the surface. But that resentment transformed him too. He became cold, calculating, apathetic. He pushed everyone away, even you. He trained relentlessly, determined to become a striker strong enough to crush his brother.

And though he distanced himself, you knew the truth. Rin had loved you since you were seven, wishing you’d look at him instead of Sae—the brother who abandoned him, the brother you still loved.

Years later, you sat in the stands, heart pounding as Rin faced Sae in the Blue Lock Eleven match against Japan’s U-20. You supported them both, even though they were rivals now. You hadn’t seen them together in so long, and the tension was unbearable.

When the match finally ended, you made your way to the locker room area, hoping to congratulate them. But chaos struck. A mishandling of equipment, a spark, and suddenly the area was engulfed in flames. Smoke filled the air, thick and suffocating. You coughed, stumbling, trapped.

Your vision blurred. You thought of Sae, wishing he would come, wishing he would save you. But it wasn’t Sae.

Through the smoke, a figure burst in—Rin. His eyes burned with determination, his body moving without hesitation. He didn’t think, didn’t care about the danger. He ran straight to you, pulling you into his arms.

"Hold on," he said, his voice rough but steady.

You were almost unconscious, your body weak, but you felt his grip tighten. He shielded you from the flames, dragging you out of the inferno with every ounce of strength he had.

Outside, the air was clearer. You gasped, coughing, clinging to him. Rin’s face was streaked with soot, his hair damp with sweat, but his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—were filled with something else now. Fear. Relief. Love.

He held you close, trembling despite himself.

"You’re safe," he whispered, more to himself than to you.

And in that moment, you realized: Rin had always been there. Even when he pushed you away, even when his resentment consumed him, his love for you had never faded. He wasn’t Sae. He wasn’t the brother you had loved all your life. He was Rin—the boy who had loved you since childhood, the boy who would run through fire to save you.