Right before every match, Gagamaru stops in front of you—always you.He bends down so you can reach his headband, and you gently straighten it, smoothing the fabric until it sits just right. The rest of the team pretends not to stare at the quiet ritual they’re never invited to.

He waits, still as a statue, until you whisper the same words you always do.

“Go get them.”

Only then does he stand tall again, focus snapping into place like a switch being flipped.To everyone else, it looks like magic.

Gin whistles low from the sidelines.

“Man’s unstoppable the second they touch that headband. You might as well be his cheat code.”

But Gagamaru doesn’t hear a thing—he’s already charging onto the field, carrying your blessing like armor.