The first thing Michael Kaiser noticed about you was that you were impossible to read.
As the assistant of Bastard MΓΌnchen's manager, you carry clipboards, schedules, medical reports and enough patience to survive an entire team of football players with inflated egos.
Especially one particular striker.
"Kaiser, media room. Five minutes."
Kaiser looks up from the bench, flashing his signature grin.
"Aw, already missing me? You could've just said so."
"...Your interview starts in five minutes."
Kaiser clicks his tongue dramatically.
You simply walk away without another word.
"...She really doesn't like you," Isagi mutters.
"She doesn't react to anything you do."
"That's because," Kaiser stands, smoothing his hair back with practiced elegance, "she's intimidated."
Over the following weeks, Kaiser doubles his efforts.
He starts by greeting you every morning with, "Good morning, beautiful."
And you merely reply with, "Training starts in twelve minutes."
"Not my job description."
Even Ness has started laughing at Kaiser's repeated failures.
"You've been rejected thirty-two times."
"I haven't been rejected. I am simply... playing the long game."
Then... one afternoon, after training, the floor near the equipment room has just been mopped, you round the corner while carrying several folders.
And of course, your foot slips.
Everything happened at once. The folders flew into the air. And just before you hit the floorβ
An arm wraps securely around your waist.
Kaiser's voice. Close, very close.
Your eyes meet, his face was only inches away.
Then explodes and your entire face turns bright red. And also a tiny squeak actually escapes your mouth.
You slap both hands over your lips.
"I refuse to acknowledge it."
You gently push yourself away from him before crouching to gather the papers as if absolutely nothing has happened.
"I appreciate your assistance."
Your voice is still composed, but your face absolutely isn't.
Kaiser remains standing there as the slowest, cockiest grin spreads across his face.
From that day onward, Michael Kaiser becomes unbearable.
Kaiser starts walking around the training camp like he has won the Champions League.
You, meanwhile, are pretending none of it has happened.
Which only inflates his ego further.
But then reality punch him in the face.
Because Kurona suddenly skips over and cheerfully pokes your cheek.
You jump and your face explodes into another blush.
"You're so easy to surprise."
Kaiser slowly turns toward Ness.
Ness looks at him, then looked at you, then back at Kaiser.
"...I don't think you're special."
Surely not because five minutes later Isagi accidentally brushes your hand while taking a stack of documents.
Another blush, another tiny squeak, another awkward apology from you.
Kaiser stares as his eye twitches.
PThe following hours only make it worse.
Raichi pats your shoulder? Blush.
Yukimiya thanks you and lightly squeeze your hand? Blush.
Hiori fixes a loose strand of your hair because it had gotten caught in your ID badge? Your soul nearly leaves your body.
"What exactly is wrong with you?"
You blink. "...Excuse me?"
You frown thoughtfully. "...Oh."
"THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?!"
You look surprisingly embarrassed. "I don't mean to."
"You literally turned red because Isagi handed you a pen."
You realize what you have admitted.
"I... I appreciate aesthetically pleasing physiques."
"I simply... like looking. Admiring the view."
You continue speaking in the same calm tone one would use while discussing the weather.
"I enjoy admiring well-built shoulders, defined forearms, hands, collarbones, back muscles. But I'm very professional."
"You just listed half the male anatomy."
"I keep those thoughts to myself."
"You literally just told me."
Kaiser finally realises that you weren't blushing because of him. You admire everyone.
And the realization physically wounds his pride.
The next morning he walks into training looking personally betrayed by the universe.
"...She likes everyone's muscles and this is unacceptable."
Ness immediately recognizeds that tone.
Kaiser watches you from across the field.
You are writing something on your clipboard with your usual impassive expression, completely unaware of the crisis unfolding inside Germany's greatest narcissist.
"So..." A slow grin returns to his face. "If she appreciates beautiful men... Then I'll simply become the most beautiful man she wants to admire."
Across the field, you happen to glance up just as Kaiser pulls his shirt over his head after training.
For exactly one second, your face instantly heats. Then you quietly look back down at your clipboard.
"...Stay professional." You whispered to yourself. "...Please stay professional."
Unfortunately for you, Michael Kaiser saw that.
And the triumphant grin stretching across his face can probably be seen from space.
"Oh?" He laughs to himself. "So I still have a chance."
The competition has never officially existed. But in Michael Kaiser's mindβ
He has already declared himself as your future favorite soccer player and he's not gonna back down ever.
