Chapter Text
Rin doesn't get it .
Throughout the time he's been in blue lock, he hasn't felt much of a challenge, hasn't exactly felt himself being pushed to his limits. At least in terms of soccer. (God knows that Rin has had his metaphorical boundaries pushed so many times in this darned facility.)
Joining blue lock obviously has had its perks, namely the state of the art facilities that blue lock has provided for them to train with, the nutritionally balanced meals and the fact that there's someone there to make sure he upholds his rigorous training - not that he needed someone to. Either way, he finds it's still better to have the extra pressure to keep him on task.
He's teamed up with the lukewarms that hold ranks 2 and 3, and they were just about to begin the second phase of the second selection.
Predictably, Rin completed the 2nd selection’s first phase the fastest. The objective being to score 100 goals against one of blue lock's automated goalkeepers. Yet, Rin finds he feels neither joy nor satisfaction and instead he feels his thoughts drift.
Rin can't help but think that it would have been easier if he was better at direct shots. Images of mid length dark ebony hair and warm smiles immediately flash through his mind but he quickly brushes it off.
It's better not to dwell on the past.
Instead, Rin views it as just another area of himself to improve in if he's going to defeat the monster he once called his brother.
Rin can't wait to see Sae's face twist in despair and shame when he holds the world cup in front of him - the rest of the Japan National team by his side.
//
Rin’s team is predictably the first to complete the 2nd selection, which means that they’re also the first ones sent to self-study English.
Rin can confidently attest that life is fucking terrible.
“Rin!”
“R-Rin-”
“Rin-chan!”
“Hey Rin-?”
… ever since they found out he was fluent, it’s only ever been ‘Rin’ this ‘Rin’ that. He fucking hates it here.
Number 2 and number 3 are annoying but relatively tolerable. They only ask questions for things they’re really confused about, like pronunciation of certain words. It helps that number 3 is too nervous to talk to him most of the time too. Really though, Rin wishes they would just use google translate.
Next is the bespeckled speedster he picked up from the first match of the 2nd selection. Rin remembers only picking the guy because he seemed the most normal. His purple and white-haired teammates were just… in too much of a weird sort of toxic? codependency?? that Rin had no desire to get involved in. He didn’t come to Blue Lock to be a side character in some sort of drama after all.
(Not to mention that Rin recognises that his life is already enough of a soap opera as it is. Estranged family member, lost childhood friend, the list went on.)
Rin …doesn’t exactly hate the guy more than the cursory amount of hate he has towards everyone, but god does the guy ask a lot of questions. Off the field, Rin acknowledges the guy for his determination to continuously strive to do better in English, but also, sometimes his questions are just… dumb. To put it nicely, the guy’s just not the best at memorising. He does make the effort though, and Rin’s been taught to respect these aspects of people since early childhood.
It’s the last fucker he very very unwillingly calls his teammate that really pisses him off though. Rin knows he’s neither patient, nor tolerant. But this guy with the weird dye job was just too… unserious. Too drifting. Too goalless (pun unintended). Too… dependent .
Within the first 10 minutes of going against him in the 4v4, Rin already decided that he didn’t like the bob cut’s playstyle. ‘Playing because it’s fun’? ‘Playing because the monster tells him to’? What a joke. Soccer was a life or death match and Rin knows for certain that the terms & conditions to participate in Blue Lock did not include babysitting kids who still had alter egos or fursonas for that matter.
Rin would know because he actually read that crap.
(“Hypocrite~” A teasing voice rings in his mind. A distant but fond memory that Rin cherishes close to his heart.
Rin ignores the implications of this. A voice in him whispers that he too, is an edgy teenager, especially with the hairstyle he has. Rin pointedly does not acknowledge it.)
But pack to the point. Rin does not like the stray he picked up. At all. He asks too many stupid questions, cracks too many jokes, makes too much noise, distracts everyone and Rin can’t focus at all .
“Sunday. Maun-day. Tu-ess-day. Wed… Wed… Weh… Weduh-ness-day?”
Bob cut looks up at him expectantly and Rin sighs. “It’s ‘Wednesday’ idiot.”
And then he gets bombarded by both number 2 and 3. Rin almost regrets being fluent. He feels a vein begin to throb, and he grinds his teeth out of frustration.
“I can- Fly-day!” A paper plane hits his head.
Rin abruptly stands up, taking a book and throwing it back at the bob cut as revenge.
Rin really really does not like bob cut.
He wishes he could pin bob cut’s personality as the sole reason and root of his distaste, but the Itoshis had good genes and Rin was a victim to that. Rin is smart and he knows the real reason why he dislikes bob cut so much.
Bob cut plays like he’s searching for someone - yearning and passionate. It’s the same way Rin used to play. It’s the same way Rin still plays.
Rin knows the signs, knows that his current playstyle - ‘to destroy beautifully’ , is just… a cheap knock off of Sae’s. A last attempt to feel connected with Sae (and by extension, her ). A way to comfort and console himself that maybe their shared dream isn’t lost, that there is still hope. That Sae might choose to become the best striker once more if he sees how perfectly Rin embodies him as one.
Some part of Rin feels sympathy for bob cut because he gets it.
It’s lonely to play by yourself.
But the ugly green jealousy Rin feels far outweighs any compassion he has to offer. A loathing, hateful part of him resents that bob cut is strong ( stronger than he could ever be ). That bob cut still has enough strength to smile through the pain of playing alone. Rin can bring himself to admire this trait but at the end of the day, the results are the same.
Rin is full of vile, vicious self-loathing and he hates looking at a less-broken reflection of himself.
//
Finally, all teams have cleared the second selection.
Thank heavens for no more English tutoring.
Rin’s team, along with several other teams, make their way to the hall Ego had asked them to gather in.
“An important announcement,” Ego said.
On their way there, Rin makes sure to drift behind so that he can scan and assess all the other teams. A large majority of the players look lukewarm, and no one seemed particularly exceptional enough to catch his eye even at this stage. He also comes to the conclusion that a lot of them probably haven’t made much progress in English.
Fuck. I’m still in the English tutor mindset.
Rin mourns.
They reach the entrance and teams begin entering the hall one by one, having to go through the tedious and time-consuming process of scanning one number from each team. Rin swears that Blue Lock should have been better designed.
Yet eventually, all the teams have entered the hall and it’s just his team left. Rin puts his sleeve to the scanner, automatically filtering out most of his teammates’ conversation and only catching bits and pieces of it.
“Why do you think Ego gathered us here? Must be important if he’s meeting us face to face.”
“A-Actually, Aryu and I o-overheard something the other d-day. A-Apparently w-we’re getting a new m-manag-ger?”
“It’s true. We saw Miss Anri talking to her as well. Although we didn’t get to see her face, from the back, she looked quite glamorous! It’s a pity though. I’m sure her face would’ve been absolutely glam!”
“Our newly arrived acquaintance is that of the double X-chromosomes?”
“Apparently. We don’t really have any solid proof of why she’s here at Blue Lock. It will truly be a shame if she only came here temporarily though. I would’ve liked a chance to play with her hair. It is rather long and lustrous and it was a most gorgeous shade of black as well, almost as if it was slightly tinted blue! And she had a tiny hair sprout to top it all off! Truly the epitome of glam!”
That’s… interesting, Rin muses and then pauses.
What the actual fuck.
That description is triggering way too many of his childhood memories.
Before he can turn around to shoot his teammates a ‘ what the hell ’ look, the doors to the halls open and he sees someone with that exact description, back-turned towards him and talking to Ego.
Fucking hell.
Rin doesn’t even register the way his feet move forward, itching to get closer and closer to her .
He grabs her arm. She turns around.
His own teal meets shocked deep sea blue.
Fuck. It really is her.
“... Yocchan?”