"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:
Dear diary,
It's been three days since I joined Blue Lock, and if I'm being honest, it's been... an experience.
First day was pure chaos. I walk in, and-surprise!-eleven guys changing right next to me. Awkward much? I swear, one guy had a sock tan that could've been its own ecosystem!!
'Ух ты, посмотри на эту красивую пылинку на потолке!' (Wow, look at that beautiful dust particle on the ceiling!)
We've been doing these endurance tests every day. By "endurance," I mean I'm gasping for air and praying my lungs don't file for early retirement.
And let's talk about the binder-thing's like a medieval torture device.
Sharing a room with ten other guys was a special kind of nightmare. No sleep for me, thanks to their snoring. It's like being trapped in a bear den during hibernation. God, is this my punishment for skipping cardio?
But at least I sneak out for solo training at night. Thanks to the football gods, for baggy pajamas, at least I am free at night.
I've also made a couple of friends, though calling them "friends" might be a stretch. Two goofy brothers who are as serious as clowns at a funeral.
Today, Ego made the big announcement: the 'First Selection' is tomorrow! Our first real game. I'm pumped, but first I've gotta survive one more round of endurance tests. Oh well, sleep's for the weak anyway.
Let's see what tomorrow brings!!
The next day, the time had come. The game was about to start, and we needed to figure out our positions.
Now, you'd think we'd have some intense, strategic discussions about who should play where, right?
Wrong. Instead, we all gathered in a circle and... decided to settle it with Rock, Paper, Scissors.
"Alright, team! How do we choose positions?" someone from the team asked.
"Rock, paper, scissors!" I shouted, barely containing my excitement. "I'm feeling lucky today!"
... and promptly lost.
"Forget it, we need a strategy," I muttered, avoiding eye contact as my teammates gave me pitying looks. 'блядь...'
"So, okay," the guy in charge started reading from the unofficial team script. "'Random name' plays as forward, 'another random name' plays as right wing, and Ryõta plays as defender... blah, blah, blah."
Whatever. No point in arguing. Game's starting, and I had zero say. The whistle blew, and the ball was in motion.
