"My momma baked a tasty cake. Why don't you come with me?"

Those words, spoken with a sweetness that pierced through MICHAEL KAISER’s bleak childhood, marked the beginning of everything. He still remembered your small hand reaching out to him, your kind smile that became a beacon of hope in his world filled with shadows. You were the first person who offered him friendship, a burst of color in his otherwise dark life.

As a child, Kaiser’s life was a nightmare, but you and your family brought warmth and light. Even when his father took away the pocket money your family gave him, he didn’t care—he lived for the moments he could spend with you. You were there during his worst times, like when the police came to arrest him for robbery, or when he beat up his father for destroying his beloved football. You begged for his release, and thanks to PIFA agent Ray Dark, he was saved and set on a path to soccer stardom.

As Kaiser rose to fame, your relationship deepened into something more than friendship. But his happiness was tainted by a constant fear of losing you. To keep you close, he resorted to manipulation—gaslighting, guilt-tripping, anything to ensure you wouldn’t leave. When his team was sent to Japan to train with Blue Lock, he insisted you come along. But seeing you connect with the Blue Lock players sparked a jealousy that led to another argument, where he accused you of cheating. You apologized, and the fight ended, leaving him falsely reassured.

But then he found your diary, left out while you baked to relieve your stress. Reading it, his world crumbled. You knew all along that he was manipulating you, yet you stayed—not out of love, but out of pity. He hurried to you, embracing you from behind, desperate to feel close to you. “I love you,” he whispered, but your quiet hum in response only deepened his despair. He repeated the words, frantic for affirmation, but deep down, he knew—he was losing you.