Chapter 16 : Mr Clean

After their resounding victory against Manchester United, the players and coaching staff at Luton Town became even more beloved by the locals. Fans grew more attached to them. The locals adored them, not just for the wins, but for the grit and character they displayed. Rahmat's management and his summoned players were slowly adjusting to life in Luton, each finding their place within the community and settling into the rhythm of their new home.

One of the most intriguing members of the squad was Aoyama. Known as the "clean freak," Aoyama had initially found the transition to life in Luton quite challenging. The town's rustic charm, while appealing to some, posed difficulties for someone as meticulously clean and orderly as Aoyama. He was often seen meticulously wiping down benches before sitting and was always the last to leave the training ground, ensuring every piece of equipment was spotlessly clean before he departed.

Despite his quirks, his teammates and the local community grew to respect him. His dedication and calm, almost obsessive focus on cleanliness were oddly inspiring. It wasn't long before the locals began to call him "Mr. Clean," a nickname that Aoyama accepted with a slight nod and his characteristic deadpan.

Among his teammates was Arhan Pratama, Arhan had a fearless, spirited energy that was contagious. His dynamic personality and playful attitude often balanced Aoyama's meticulous nature. Arhan would sometimes sneak a stray piece of grass or a bit of mud onto Aoyama's bench, just to watch his friend's reaction. Aoyama would sigh, carefully remove the dirt, and return to his cleaning routine, while Arhan grinned and shrugged. "Just a little character-building for you, Mr. Clean!" he'd say with a wink. Over time, Aoyama grew used to Arhan's friendly teasing, even if he would never admit he secretly enjoyed it.

Arhan's respect for Aoyama ran deeper than his jokes. He admired Aoyama's discipline and often sought his advice on handling pressure, especially in big games. In return, Aoyama learned to appreciate Arhan's adaptability and spirit, which kept the team's morale high.

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One evening, as Aoyama was walking through a quiet part of town after training, he noticed a young woman struggling with a heavy basket of laundry outside a laundromat. The evening light cast a warm glow on the streets, but Aoyama could see her small frame struggling with the load. He hesitated for a moment, instinctively cautious about touching anything that might be unclean, but his empathy overpowered his hesitation.

He approached her carefully. "Excuse me," he said in his calm, soft voice. "Do you need some help?"

The young woman looked up, a bit surprised. She had short, curly brown hair and a determined gleam in her green eyes. She looked around his age, maybe a year or two younger, probably around nineteen. Her clothes were simple but well-kept, and there was a quiet strength in her expression.

She raised an eyebrow, recognizing him. "Aren't you that football player from Luton Town? The one who's… a bit particular about germs?"

Aoyama nodded, unfazed by her bluntness. "Yes, that's me. My name is Aoyama."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm Grizelle. And yes, I could use a bit of help. But are you sure you're okay with touching… well, laundry?"

Aoyama blinked, visibly weighing his options. "I'll manage," he said calmly. With practiced precision, he pulled out a pair of disposable gloves from his pocket, slipped them on, and delicately picked up the laundry basket by its edges, holding it at arm's length as they walked into the laundromat. Grizelle watched, equal parts amused and impressed.

---

As the laundry began to wash, Grizelle watched him with curiosity, her eyes flicking to his gloved hands resting neatly on his lap. "So, you're a football player who avoids dirt and sweat… how does that work?"

Aoyama considered her question, his gaze distant. "It's about technique and strategy. I can play the game without unnecessary contact. It's just… efficiency." His voice was calm, almost meditative.

Grizelle smirked. "Sounds more like a superpower. I don't know many players who avoid dirt as an 'efficiency' strategy."

Aoyama glanced at her, a rare, faint smile softening his expression. "Perhaps it is."

Grizelle chuckled. "Well, I'm studying to be a nurse, so I have to face a lot of messy situations. I don't get the luxury of 'efficiency.' But… I get it. You're driven, and I respect that."

They shared a comfortable silence as the machine hummed, filling the laundromat with the scent of fresh detergent. Aoyama, his hands still gloved, seemed to find a rare sense of calm in the orderly nature of the laundromat.

---

Over the next few days, Aoyama and Grizelle continued to cross paths at the laundromat. Their conversations grew more familiar, and Grizelle found herself looking forward to these odd encounters. Sometimes she'd catch him meticulously folding his own laundry, each fold precise, every corner aligned. She'd tease him about his perfectionism, and he'd respond with that small, reserved smile that had become his trademark.

One evening, as they were folding clothes together, Grizelle glanced at him thoughtfully. "You know, Aoyama… you're a good person. No matter what others say or how they judge, you should stay true to yourself. Don't let anyone push you into being someone you're not."

Aoyama paused, the words sinking in. For a brief moment, he seemed almost vulnerable, considering her advie. "Thank you," he said softly. "I think… I'll remember that."

As they stepped outside, they were greeted by Arhan, who was returning from a quick grocery run. He waved enthusiastically, grinning as he spotted Aoyama and Grizelle together. "Hey, Mr. Clean! I see you've found yourself a partner in cleanliness!" he teased, winking at Grizelle.

Grizelle quickly looked away, blushing, while Aoyama maintained his signature deadpan expression, meeting Arhan's playful gaze with a calm stare that spoke volumes. Arhan only grinned wider, but Grizelle couldn't hide her embarrassment, her cheeks pink as she tried to keep her composure.

As Aoyama and Grizelle parted ways that night, Aoyama's deadpan expression faded into quiet contemplation, Arhan's words—and Grizelle's blush—lingering in his mind.