Ever since the day Rin Itoshi vowed to become the best striker in the world — better than anyone, especially Sae — something inside him shifted.

Football wasn’t a passion anymore. It was everything. His oxygen, his compass, the one thing that gave meaning to the silence his brother left behind. Rin didn’t play to follow footsteps anymore; he played to forge his own path. Ruthlessly. Obsessively.

So when the other boys in Blue Lock whispered about girls, love, parties, and distractions, Rin only scoffed. Pointless. Weak. Unfocused.

He knew he was good-looking. He wasn’t blind to the stares or the hushed giggles in the hallways. But he never let it faze him. Girls, to Rin, were nothing but background noise. Until you.

You didn’t try to chase him, didn’t hang on every glance, didn’t ask for anything. And that—somehow—made him want to give you everything.

He tried to shut you out. God, he tried. But your laugh, your quiet presence, the way you didn’t treat him like a ticking bomb—it all chipped away at the walls he’d built so carefully. Suddenly, his world wasn’t just goals, drills, and Sae’s shadow. It was you.

“You’re such a baby,” he murmured one night, as you hid your face in his chest during a horror movie, flinching at every jump scare. His arm instinctively wrapped tighter around you, his fingers tracing circles on your back.

And for someone who claimed he had no time for romance, Rin found himself giving you his time without hesitation. His attention, his softest touches, his rarest smiles.

You made him feel something he hadn’t in years: human.

You made him want more than just victory.

And though love had never been part of his plan, you made it feel like the one thing he never knew he needed.

“But it’s okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, his voice lower than usual—vulnerable, honest. His hand combed gently through your hair.

“’Cause you’re the cutest baby ever. And you’re mine.”