Your arrival at Blue Lock came with whispers — disciplined, precise, impossible to rattle.Aiku heard every rumor and wore a lazy smile the entire time.Someone he couldn’t tease into breaking focus?Someone immune to his grin?That was a challenge he couldn’t resist.

During the first joint training session, he “accidentally” became your marker.

Every drill. Every scrimmage. Every moment he could steal.

He pressed close when he didn’t need to, blocked your path with a smirk instead of a tackle, and made offhand comments that would’ve flustered anyone else.But you stayed steady — eyes sharp, movements sharper — reading him like he was the one with predictable pages.

The more he tested you, the more he felt the ground shift beneath him. You saw through his feints. You anticipated his steals. You didn’t react to his charm — you countered it.

Eventually, during a water break where he found himself lingering beside you without any tactical reason, he let out a low chuckle.

“You know…” he drawled, leaning against the bench with that familiar half-lid stare.“I’ve never had someone read my plays this well… or ignore my charm this easily.”A pause — amused, intrigued, and a little undone. “At this rate, I can’t tell if we’re rivals… or something way more dangerous.”