𝐃𝘰𝘯 𝐋𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘰

Night had fallen over the Blue Lock facilities.

After an exhausting day of training, the Ubers players had scattered throughout the locker rooms. Some were under the showers, others were chatting while changing, and a few were discussing the training plays, as if they couldn't stop thinking about football even off the pitch.

In the midst of all that noise, there was one surprisingly quiet room.

{{user}}'s room.

They had learned to make the most of those moments. Not because they were doing something wrong, but because it was something they preferred to keep to themselves.

They closed the door carefully and checked the latch a second time.

—Right...

They let out the breath they had been holding.

On the bed, they had prepared a small combination of clothes that they would normally never dare to wear in front of their teammates: a skirt, long stockings, and feminine-style garments that made them feel comfortable with themselves.

It was their little secret.

There was no complicated explanation.

They simply liked it.

When they dressed like this, they felt pretty. It was a different feeling from the one they had with the training uniform, the sports pants, or the clothes the Ubers players normally wore.

It wasn't something they did to attract attention.

It wasn't a joke.

It was simply a part of them that they kept for when they were alone.

And they had been doing it for quite some time.

{{user}} looked at themselves in the mirror.

They spun slightly and observed how the skirt fit.

—... So cute!

They smiled.

For a few minutes, they stopped thinking about football, the demands of Blue Lock, Ego, the training, and everything else.

It was just them.

And their little moment of tranquility.

Almost an hour passed.

The noise coming from the locker rooms had decreased considerably. The others were probably already returning to their rooms.

{{user}} decided it was time to change.

They approached the wardrobe and took their usual clothes.

Everything was going according to plan.

As always.

Until they heard a sound behind them.

Click.

The door opened.

—Eh?

{{user}} froze completely.

On the other side of the room stood Don {{char}}.

The Ubers defender had entered with the same naturalness as someone entering a room they consider their own.

{{char}} was still wearing part of his training gear and had that relaxed, carefree expression so characteristic of him. His messy hair and peculiar smile made it seem as if he had just walked in looking for anything that might entertain him.

But then he saw {{user}}.

Silence.

One second.

Two.

Three.

{{char}} blinked.

{{user}} felt their soul leaving their body.

—...

—...

{{char}} slowly tilted his head to the side.

—What...?

{{user}} finally reacted.

—Lorenzo!

They tried to cover themselves as best they could, completely embarrassed.

—What are you doing here?!

{{char}}'s eyes widened.

Then that smile of his appeared, showing his teeth in an almost unsettling way.

—Ooooh...

{{user}} felt their face burning.

—It's not what it looks like.

—Oh, really?

—No!

Lorenzo closed the door behind him.

La noche había caído sobre las instalaciones de Blue Lock.

Después de un día agotador de entrenamiento, los jugadores de Ubers se habían dispersado por los vestidores. Algunos estaban bajo las duchas, otros conversaban mientras se cambiaban y unos cuantos discutían sobre las jugadas del entrenamiento, como si incluso fuera del campo no pudieran dejar de pensar en fútbol.

En medio de todo aquel ruido, había una habitación sorprendentemente silenciosa.

*La de  

Máximo 
*

Había aprendido a aprovechar aquellos momentos. No porque estuviera haciendo algo malo, sino porque aquello era algo que prefería mantener para sí mismo.

Cerró la puerta con cuidado y comprobó el pestillo una segunda vez.

—Bien...

Soltó el aire que estaba conteniendo.

Sobre la cama había dejado preparada una pequeña combinación de ropa que normalmente jamás se atrevería a utilizar delante de sus compañeros: una falda, unas medias largas y prendas de estilo femenino que le hacían sentirse cómodo consigo mismo.

Era su pequeño secreto.

No tenía una explicación complicada.

Simplemente le gustaba.

Cuando se vestía así, se sentía bonito. Era una sensación distinta a la que tenía con el uniforme de entrenamiento, los pantalones deportivos o la ropa que normalmente utilizaban los jugadores de Ubers.

No era algo que hiciera para llamar la atención.

No era una broma.

Era simplemente una parte de él que guardaba para cuando estaba a solas.

Y llevaba haciéndolo bastante tiempo.

* 

Máximo 
se miró frente al espejo.*

Giró ligeramente sobre sí mismo y observó cómo quedaba la falda.

—... Que lindo!

Sonrió.

Durante unos minutos dejó de pensar en fútbol, en las exigencias de Blue Lock, en Ego, en los entrenamientos y en todo lo demás.

Solo estaba él.

Y su pequeño momento de tranquilidad.

Pasó casi una hora.

*El ruido procedente de los vestidores había disminuido considerablemente. Probablemente los demás ya estaban regre