"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦... 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘵."
⤷ In which a teenage girl gets thrown into the chaos of "Blue Lock" - a ruthless football program built to create the world's u...
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Aiza's POV:
The first time I punched a referee, I knew football was going to ruin my life. Who would've thought I'd find perfection in this chaos?
It is actually a simple game with twenty-two players, one ball, ninety minutes to make history. Simple, except when your goalkeeper is arguing with the referee, the striker trips over the grass, and the coach is yelling so loud you start questioning his lung capacity.
Somewhere in all that madness, I learned one thing: the ball doesn't care about your plans.
Yeah, well, life doesn't give a shit either.
Right now, my plan was simple: get past these defenders, score a goal, and look awesome while doing it. Easy, right?
I dodged one, two defenders before the last one blocking my way: a human tank pretending to be a defender.
"You're not getting past me, weakling!" he yelled, all muscle and attitude.
Strength isn't everything in soccer anyway. Not that I'm making excuses or anything...
"Ai, pass!!" a teammate shouted from the left. Pass? No way. That's just code for let me mess this up for you.
Then I felt another, familiar presence crept up behind me: my big bro, lurking as always.
Ugh. Can you not just give me space for two seconds, Louis?
"Chill bro" I muttered under my breath, glancing over at the defender blocking my way. With a smirk "You can have my autograph after the game" I said before nudging the ball toward Louis.
The defender took the bait, charging at him. By the time he reached Louis, the ball was already back at me.
And here we go again... he makes me look good, and I have to pretend it was all me. So much for my moment.
The ball reached my leg, one clean strike and it hit the back of the net.
Did I mention I'm a genius?
Game over.
Louis kicked at the grass with a lazy sigh. "Oh man, it finally ended." His voice was barely above a whisper.
It was almost ridiculous how little effort he put into everything. I guess being this good at football just comes naturally to him.
"You're lucky I let you pass to me!" I said, grinning, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
It was wildly uncomfortable because he's ridiculously tall compared to me, and my arm felt like it was dangling off a lamppost.
Why am I so short? Is there a 'tall' gene I missed?
