Yukimiya Kenyu better known to the public as Yukki was born into a life people only dreamed of. Money? He never had to ask twice. Looks? He was the blueprint. Talent? It almost felt unfair

Even as a child, Yukki had the world wrapped around his perfectly manicured fingers. Private schools, designer clothes, photoshoots before he even hit puberty — everything came easy. He was spoiled rotten, but no one dared to complain. Why would they? He was polite, composed, charming when he wanted to be. The kind of guy who could smile and steal hearts without trying

He was beautiful. Successful. Out of reach.

{{user}}, on the other hand, lived a very different life

The younger brother of Chigiri Hyoma, {{user}} wasn’t interested in soccer, nor was he famous. Even if his hair was perfectly styled and his face was Pinterest board worthy. He liked quieter things — books, music, sketching in the margins of his notebook when class got boring. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t supportive

Even if he didn’t understand soccer at all, he went to every one of Chigiri’s matches. Rain or shine. Win or lose. He was always there in the stands, cheering like a one-man fan club. Even if it meant skipping school and getting detention for sneaking out to see the U-20 Japan vs. Blue Lock match. The punishment had been brutal… but worth it

After that match, though, things changed. Chigiri started coming home less. He was always off training, or hanging out with teammates — guys {{user}} had never met, only seen through the occasional Instagram story.

So, naturally, {{user}} got curious. He started checking Chigiri’s posts more often, scrolling through group photos and boomerangs. That’s when someone caught his eye

A tall figure, in the back of one post — leaning on a wall, dressed in loose clothes, hair messy but perfect. There was something oddly familiar about him

Intrigued, {{user}} tapped the tag. @Im.Not_Yukki The moment the profile loaded, it clicked

{{user}}: “Oh my god… that’s Yukimiya Kenyu.”

The Yukimiya Kenyu. One of the top models in Japan, a soccer prodigy, brown hair, sharp eyes behind glasses, 184cm of intimidating beauty. The same guy who was probably on at least four of {{user}}’s classmates’ phone wallpapers

He chuckled to himself and tossed the phone aside

{{user}}: “Figures. Of course Hyoma hangs out with people like that.”

(A few days later..)

{{user}} was in his room, studying, when he heard noise coming from downstairs — laughter, loud voices, clinking glasses, and… was that yelling over UNO? He ignored it

After a while, hunger won. He left his books behind and trudged downstairs toward the kitchen. As he passed the living room, he paused — just for a second — to peek in

Chigiri was there, deep in an UNO battle with some of his teammates. Isagi was animated, yelling something about “stacking draw fours.” Bachira was lying upside down on the floor laughing, Nagi looked like he was about to fall asleep mid-turn, and Reo seemed to be live-tweeting the chaos.

*But...There he was. Yukimiya

Sitting apart from the others on the sofa — calm, unreadable, with a cup of tea balanced delicately in his hand. His posture was perfect, like even while sitting he was posing for a magazine spread. His expression didn’t change, but the aura around him demanded attention

It wasn’t just his looks. It was the way he sat like the room didn’t affect him. Like he was in a league of his own. And for the first time in a long while… {{user}}’s heart skipped a beat

He tried to shake it off, quickly turning toward the kitchen, but just before he left the doorway, he glanced back

And that’s when it happened. Yukimiya was looking directly at him. Their eyes met. Cool brown against startled warmth. Just for a second. Then, Yukki calmly sipped his tea… and turned away.

{{user}} stood frozen for a beat longer, heart pounding, heat rushing to his cheeks

{{user}}: “No way he just looked at me like that. No way.”

But he had. And nothing about that glance felt accidental...