Chapter Text
• Osaka | 25° ☁️ | Tuesday 6:41 PM •
With a contemporary and clean space giving a lived-in yet casual and buzzy atmosphere, Onigiri Miya was humming along with its unusual schedule of 12-8, and its owner, Miya Osamu, made sure it operated like clockwork. The relaxed ambiance made it the place for certain professional volleyball players to frequently spend their dinners there on the evenings, sitting at the minimalist but nicely padded counter seats…
But tonight, as jazz music played from a Google Pixel tablet securely held by magnets on a charging speaker dock, Osamu was pouring over a PDF on his iPad and it made him stare at the bright screen a tad longer than he would have liked. This was also noticed by his twin brother, causing him to comment…
“You’re lookin’ at that damn thing like it told ya your ‘other head’ somehow knocked up Rinrin, so ya now have to pony up for childcare.”
“Can your yappin’, Tsumu,” Osamu huffed in a flat tone. “Only your ridiculous mouth could say I’m bein’ a perv by lookin’ at someone’s résumé.”
Shōyō washed down his fatty tuna onigiri with a cool bottle of Calpis and said, “Résumé? You’re looking to hire someone again? Didn’t you just do that?”
“A few months ago for a full-time position,” Osamu sighed. “But I do need a part-timer this time; someone who can work on Sundays, and from the evenings until closing on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. They’ll also give me much needed flexibility in the schedule too, so everyone can get two consecutive days off from work since I’ll end up with a total of four workers – me included in that number. While my overhead is gonna rise again, it’ll at least calm down Rin from sayin’ I work too hard.”
“I mean the lovable little shit of your life is not wrong, my guy,” Bokuto wholeheartedly agreed after he gulped down his braised oxtail onigiri. “Like it’s kind of a miracle you find time to hit the gym in the first place or go on runs with him whenever he’s around.”
“I don’t wanna be pudgy,” Osamu drawled. “I can’t be the uglier and less healthy twin compared to ‘Tsumu either.”
“Oh contraire,” Atsumu retorted. “Sunarin is not exactly subtle with me on LINE. He has told me you’d look rugged and hot with a bit of a gut!”
Osamu looked to the ever so quiet Sakusa, “Do ya ever wonder on how you’re datin’ this brother of mine?”
“History can be hazy and I try not to think about it,” Kiyoomi answered as he slightly shifted in his counter seat. “But going back to the résumé you’re looking at, what do think of the person trying to apply?”
“I’m not sure if I should hire him,” Osamu said. “Like it’s totally okay he’s in high school, but the craziest thing written here is that he’s apparently this former Blue Lock player who made it to ‘second selection.’ I don’t have a clue on what that means, but it makes me not want to hire him.”
“Damn, why’s a Blue Lock player looking for a part-time job?” Shōyō questioned. “But he’s probably really good with a football! Pedro, my friend down in São Paulo, told me that show, the Neo Egoist teams and their players are insanely popular in Brazil and all of Latin America!”
“Something tells me he didn’t make it,” said Bokuto in a more measured tone. “Besides, if he made it through at first, it’s a safe bet to say he wouldn’t be applying at this place for a part-time job.”
Kiyoomi slowly looked to him and inquired, “Did your boyfriend tell you anything about Blue Lock? You seem to know more than we do.”
“From what he dug around, Keiji says that guys like the one applying for a job here in ‘Samu’s onigiri place effectively lost their right to play football for Japan,” a somber Bokuto shared. “Like he can still play for clubs and go pro, but if the country is cooking up a new national football team? Being considered isn’t possible as Keiji said they were ‘Locked Off’. If the guy went pro, made it work and was actually that good, but the weirdly harsh rule meant he can’t play for Japan, he can somehow be snapped up by a football team from a different country... at least that’s how Keiji put it.”
The orange-haired MSBY player frowned at his single onigiri left, “Wow… that sounds really awful. I’d get it if they were adults or pros, but I seriously can’t imagine the sort of stuff a high schooler is thinking after they hear they can’t play for their national team in the future.”
“So, it’s like Danganronpa, but for football careers of athletic high school dudes,” Atsumu casually described. “Makes me fuckin’ glad we all found volleyball and stuck with it. I definitely ain’t in the business to be crippled by issues of self-worth.”
“Normally, I don’t wanna hire anyone out of pity,” Osamu said as he gazed down on his iPad. “But I could do a lot worse too, and it’s not like this is the kid’s first time applyin’. It says here on his résumé that he has worked other part-time jobs before in Shikoku, so it’s not like he’ll just bum around.”
“You should take him,” Kiyoomi suggested. “If he worked in other jobs before, he has a good idea on how to keep himself and his workplace clean. Those are things a lot of high school boys can’t even do properly. Him being in high school makes his schedule more predictable than an equivalent university-aged student too.”
“You make a good point about the schedule part,” The onigiri shop owner acknowledged. “I’ll give him a call in a few days then, but only after I balance the books and make a draft of the staff’s scheduling.”
“How much will ya be payin’ the newbie?” Atsumu grinned at his food-loving twin brother. “Osaka minimum? Maybe above the Osaka minimum?”
“He’s definitely gettin’ a hazard bonus if he ever has to deal with your stupid ass.”
• Osaka | 28° ☀️ | Thursday 4:43 PM •
Bzzzt!
Bzzzt!
Bzzzt!
Naruhaya stood to the side of the train station’s concourse before fishing his phone from a front pocket of his gakuran. While his eyes immediately saw the unfamiliar contact number displayed on the screen, he decided to answer as there was no notification indicating the number was either a telemarketer or spam.
The dark blonde swipes ‘slide to accept’ before bringing the phone to his ear, “Hello. This is Naruhaya Asahi speaking. Who is this?”
“Ah kid, I’m glad ya answered fast since I only have 12 percent left on my phone’s battery,” The relived but calm voice on the other side said. “I’m Miya Osamu, owner of Onigiri Miya. I’m callin’ to let ya know that you’ve been chosen to work for my shop.”
The news made Naruhaya felt like he scored a critical goal, “Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down and that you didn’t misplace your trust!”
“Ya can start doin’ that by headin’ to my shop tomorrow after classes,” Osamu acknowledged. “Try to get here as soon as ya can before 4:30. I’m goin’ to give ya a tour of the shop, the works of it and, most importantly, your part-timer schedule. Also, don’t worry about your work uniform. It’ll be provided in your locker – pressed and dry cleaned by a restaurant laundry service I use.”
“That’s so kind of you, Miya-san!” Naruhaya said. “But are you particular about shoes?”
“As long they’re clean, ya move light on your feet and are comfortable in them, I ain’t gonna care if they’re stilettos,” Osamu answered. “Before I forget, save this number – this is the one for my work phone. When ya head to my place tomorrow, call or message me when you’re around 30 minutes away. That way, I can prep on what to show ya and how we’re goin’ to work out your schedule. We’ll also discuss my shop’s ground rules and your pay too.”
“Got it,” Naruhaya absentmindedly nodded. “I’ll make a reminder on my phone after this call.”
“Well, that’s about all the bullet points I can share with ya over the phone,” Osamu told him. “Congrats, kid. Other than the pay, I hope ya can get somethin’ else out of this. See ya tomorrow.”
When Osamu dropped the call, Naruhaya went through the station’s concourse, his feet – and his whole being – feeling lighter than it had in the months following his exit from Blue Lock.
• Osaka | 27° ☀️ | Friday 4:43 PM •
Onigiri Miya, in Naruhaya’s eyes, was quite the onigiri place.
Located in a relaxed area of Naniwa Ward where a local backstreet intersected with a lively urban avenue, the 30-seat establishment faced perpendicular to the aforementioned avenue. Businesses beside it was a local butcher on the local backstreet side, while a rapid EV charging station flanked the avenue side. Seating for 30 patrons consisted of three tables for a party of four, three tables for a party of two, and the rest made up of counter seating – five seats by the main counter and seven seats by the windows facing outside. All customers can enjoy access to Dual AC outlets and 67W USB-C fast-charging.
“…the drink cabinets,” Osamu gestured to the stylish matte black semi-vertical displays with sliding glass doors and LED canopy lighting. “…are one of the keys to the shop’s success, so it’s essential to keep them stocked and organized as much as possible.”
The beverage offerings were notably light on Japanese options and clearly leaned into uncommon brands. But because of the colorful graphics and rare varieties, it definitely popped to the eyes of those passing by. Additionally, there was an aesthetically pleasing nook cleverly hidden from the main entrance perspective. The nook and its shelves had quality clothing and homeware merchandise, which features adorable and creative graphics of foxes with onigiris.
“If ya noticed, we have quite the novel drinks selection in here – at least for Japanese tastes,” Osamu pointed out. “We have Dr. Pepper, A&W, AriZona, Canada Dry, IBC Root Beer and locally bottled Kansai green teas. Of course, we have the ever reliable bottled water for to-go customers or for those who want it. Those dinin’ in can walk up to the water dispenser in the self-service area. The placement of the semi-vertical drinks displays and commissioned street art close to the glass door ain’t an accident though – it gets the attention of foot traffic. If they become curious enough and walk through the glass doors, we snap up a potential client.”
“For an onigiri shop, putting the beverages close to the door is an unusual strategy. I think this is the first time I’ve seen a layout with cute foxes and onigiri wall art like that too.”
“Not everyone will want an onigiri, kid. But a drink is somethin’ people will turn into a routine or a ritual out of. That means repeat visits and loyalty, which is cheaper than to tryin’ to draw in new customers. They can spread the word to their friends, co-workers or online while they’re at it.”
“Now that you’ve mentioned it,” Naruhaya observed. “This place has the energy of a trendy coffee shop or bar, but serves pretty filling portions of onigiri. I don’t understand the merch part though, but I’ve seen it in some very nice indie coffee shops.”
“Ya have good eyes, kid,” Osamu smiled. “Before I opened this place a few years ago, I traveled a bit to get some inspiration. I was with my boyfriend in Bali where we accidentally stumbled upon this coffee shop called the Café Kitsune, located in Canggu. I still remember how his eyes lit up at the fox theme, and it helped they served great quality coffee too – which I needed ‘cuz of the jet lag. Back in high school, the powerhouse volleyball team we were on was somehow associated with foxes as well.”
“And the merch?”
“Both domestic and international tourists are always obsessed with cute Japanese stuff. Never underestimate the power of cute, the word-of-mouth, quality products paired with great service plus being able to look aesthetically pleasin’ on social media platforms.”
• Osaka | 24° 🌆 | Friday 6:01 PM •
Now in his Onigiri Miya uniform; consisting of a black denim apron and a cool gray button-up shirt neatly tucked into wheat-colored trousers, the dark blonde diligently did what Osamu instructed of him. From working the register, clearing and cleaning tables, arranging the semi-vertical drink displays to helping a customer in finding a medium-size Onigiri Miya shirt with comfortable ease, he pleasantly surprised the owner at how he adapted…
Osamu chuckled. “It’s nice to see your résumé wasn’t bluffin’ of ya havin’ worked part-time in Kagawa.”
“My older sister and I are pretty competitive when it comes to looking like a cool servant character from an anime,” Naruhaya smiled.
“I wish my twin can learn from ya,” Osamu mentioned. “If he wasn’t datin’ a literal germaphobe now, he’d definitely live like some crusty old goblin. Anyway, clean the main counter seatin’. Some guy sneezed and unfortunately didn’t cover his mouth fast enough. Let’s not be ground zero for his gross pathogens, okay? I’ll be back inside the kitchen. My brother and a few of my friends are comin’ over.”
“Aye-aye, Osamu-san,” Naruhaya complied with a playful salute before heading towards the main counter seating.
After taking a rag and a transparent spray bottle filled with an eco-friendly and flowery disinfectant, Naruhaya efficiently wiped down the mentioned seating area. And almost immediately, four out of the five seats were occupied… with one of them having Osamu’s face.
“Ah, newbie!” The guy with the same exact face as Osamu called out to him. “Two glasses of cold water, a couple of Canada Drys for me and one chilled bottle of green tea for my boyfriend!”
Before Naruhaya can respectfully decline and politely instruct the strange man on what to do, his boss stepped in.
“Ya can get up on your ass and get those yourself, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu drawled as he placed a couple of trays filled with steamed gyoza, black miso soup and a paper-line wicker basket loaded with three hearty onigiris in front of the tall man with owlish white hair and a more average-sized one with bright orange locks. “If ya can’t, how are ya even a pro volleyball player?”
“Aren’t ya gonna introduce to your newbie here, little bro?” The Osamu lookalike teased.
The onigiri shop proprietor let out a breath before mediating between Naruhaya and his regulars. “So kid, the one who has the same mug as me but somehow wears it way uglier is my twin brother Atsumu, or ‘Tsumu as we normally call him. He’s also a setter. The one with wearing a face mask is his germaphobe boyfriend, Kiyoomi or Omi – an outside hitter. Brawny frosted owl tips over there is Bokuto Kōtarō, another outside hitter. As for the ginger who has attracted every male setter he comes across, that’s Hinata Shōyō – also an outside hitter and he came back from Brazil a few months ago… and guys, this is Naruhaya Asahi – my latest staff who’s a part-timer.”
“Brazil?” Naruhaya blinked at the orange-haired player.
“I used to play for Asas São Paulo, but the team owners sold their assets off – including us,” Shōyō scratched his cheek. “A private equity firm bought Asas São Paulo, and the very next thing me and my fellow teammates knew, they dissolved the team because we apparently ‘had too much debt and didn’t bring enough commercial value’ to keep around. And yeah, we all knew that the private equity firm was the noose around the team’s neck.”
“You’re looking at a big volleyball star for Portugal though!” Bokuto chirped. “European volleyball teams wanted the Ninja Shōyō, but the Portuguese team won out!”
“Says the guy who’s joining my boyfriend on the Italian team next year,” Shōyō muttered.
“Go get my brother and Omi-Omi’s orders,” Osamu told Naruhaya. “Both the onigiris and kaarage are already prepped on the tray, so they just need a bowl of black miso soup. Ya can’t miss it. Once ya hand it over to them, I’ll let ya hang around here since it’s important to get to know ‘em, as many of my regulars do have similar personalities like these four or have some sort of history with volleyball. They usually sit here at the main counter too. My other staff already know this.”
“Yeah, what my baby bro said, Naru-kun,” Atsumu piled on. “Chop, chop!”
THWACK!!!
“HEY!” Atsumu childishly cried out as he irritably turned to his twin brother while gently nursing the top of his head. “That hurt!”
“He’s on my payroll,” Osamu simply replied back to his sibling. “I’m the one who can order him around with requests, and even then, I want all my customers to treat my staff with common decency.”
Meanwhile, Kiyoomi definitely did not make any effort to hide a snicker beyond his signature mask.
• Osaka | 23° 🌕 | Friday 7:02 PM •
“…So you asked your relatives to move you down here in Osaka?” Bokuto asked Naruhaya, who was currently wiping down a nearby counter area. “Just so you can get a part-time job while in high school?”
“Yeah, and that’s because I can live with them for free. The high school I go to is public, so that keeps the tuition nice and reasonable,” the dark blonde teen said. “The money I’ll earn here is actually more than the part-time jobs I took up back in Kagawa combined. That’s really important since my parents aren’t around anymore and my older sister needs real help with the income as our younger siblings depend on us.”
“So circumstances, clearly out of your control, forced you to grow up fast,” Kiyoomi tactfully summarized. “I have to say… I don’t envy you at all.”
“Yeah,” Naruhaya breathed. “I wanted to turn it around by joining Blue Lock. If I got through and made it big, I’d buy my family a nice house and my sister can start saving for herself without worrying on whether if we’ll have food on the table or a roof over our heads. She’s her own person after all and has wants for herself. But because I didn’t have the insane shonen protagonist skills, here I am – trying to scrape together money that, when combined with my older sister’s from her own full-time job, will hopefully be enough to allow my younger siblings to live out relatively normal teenager years. I really don’t want them to worry about bills and groceries.”
“For what it’s worth, it’s awesome you’re not just all talk,” Shōyō acknowledged. “You know…? You’re not just thinking about it, but actively putting in the effort.”
“I appreciate the praise, Hinata-san, really, I do… but the reality is, I quite literally can’t afford to cry and be depressed over not being a pro footballer,” Naruhaya said as hung up the the towel he used. “While my dreams stopped, the bills for the utilities and rent don’t. The least I can do now for my family is to be someone they can depend on.”
“You’re 16, Naruhaya,” Osamu pointed out. “We know life wasn’t kind to ya, but don’t put so much pressure on yourself, okay? I don’t want ya to get into a spiral either ‘cuz you’ll have a tough time gettin’ yourself out of that hole, and trust me, no matter how good ya think ya are in hidin’ it, people close to ya will notice.”
“Yeah, one day at a time my guy,” Bokuto encouraged. “And while we only just met you tonight, we think you’re a pretty cool dude with a good head! I think Keiji would say the same too!”
“I’m still of the record that you and other guys your age going through a football-themed gladiator fight is the definition of very damaging,” Kiyoomi voiced. “Given how impressionable teenage guys are, it’s not hard to imagine the therapist sessions being a very emotional rollercoaster.”
“To be number one, as the Americans would put it, is just gravy,” Atsumu added. “Like sure, give 150 percent of everything ya have and we ought to work hard every single day, but bein’ number one ain’t worth shit if ya have no one to celebrate it with… or folks just don’t want to celebrate it with ya. Worse, ya might end up becomin’ one of those alpha male influencers tryin’ to get some internet stranger’s validation.”
“I swear! Most of my former teammates in Blue Lock aren’t like that!” Naruhaya clarified. “They just simply want to be the best of the best! Ego-sensei’s hyper-optimized training really speak for themselves too.”
“I think they’re sayin’ this because it’s one thing to be a sore loser and it’s another to be a sore winner, kid,” Osamu said. “Bein’ a sore winner is objectively worse because no one wants to see some cunt who already has it all whinin’.”
“My boyfriend Tobio was like that,” Hinata shared to Naruhaya. “He was called the ‘King of the Court’ in junior high because he was incredibly difficult to be with on a team. A ‘king abandoned by his own people’ is something another friend of mine said about him. Tobio realized why he was called that way and through our first year as high schoolers in Miyagi, he really cleaned up his act. I remember seeing how happy his family was when they saw high school Tobio had friends and good people who genuinely had his back - who saw him through his highest highs and lowest lows. That was a huge 180 for them since they’ve seen how he had no friends in junior high.”
“Just my two cents, but I have a feelin’ a fair number of your Blue Lock buddies are gonna be bitten real hard by shit like that, Naru-Naru,” Atsumu chimed in. “I get it – every athlete wants to be the number one. And ain’t no doubt about it, we pro volleyball players are hungry, feral even, for the spot ourselves. But after playin’ the sport for god knows how long, I’d be selective on what I’m goin’ to trade away ’cause all the trophies, medals and fame aren’t goin’ to fill that gnawin’ void once the adrenaline leaves your system.”
“If your friends are anything like the ones in The Devil Wears Prada, they weren’t your real friends to begin with,” Kiyoomi described. “I’d be livid if any of them walked in here and said you changed for the worse by taking up a part-time job instead of continuing football… as if they’d actually be able to keep up with you in a stressful customer-facing occupation.”
“So not only I got a part-time job, but a bunch of cool, volleyball-playing older brother figures trying to look out for me as well,” Naruhaya chuckled. “Definitely a total change of pace from Blue Lock.”
“Nothing wrong with crazy intense competition to make yourself better, my man!” Bokuto said. “But you can do all that without the drama or being a prick to another athlete too. Also, I should really introduce you to Keiji!”
“I swear to my original onigiri recipes that if you and your boyfriend attempt to adopt Naruhaya…” Osamu pointedly looked at the owlish MSBY player.
“Is it because ya want Naru-Naru to be adopted by both ya and your boytoy instead?” Atsumu questioned with a teasing smile.
“Naruhaya doesn’t need to know what happens between me and my boyfriend, especially at my residence above the shop,” Osamu huffed his statement.
“Huh, between you and your boyfriend?” Naruhaya selectively parroted, evidently a bit confused with what his boss said.
“Naruhaya,” Kiyoomi intercepted. “Just leave it at that.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Let’s keep the conversation ‘family friendly’ as much as we can.”
“Ahh… ohh… right, got it.”