Chapter Text
Rin was annoyed.
And yeah, you might be thinking, what else is new? When was Rin Itoshi ever not annoyed?
The answer? When he was at home. Alone. Noise-canceling headphones on.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t at home right now. He was in a record store. Working a part-time job he never really wanted, in a mall he never cared for, wearing a lanyard that made him feel like he’d lost a bet with God.
Rin wasn’t sure what had possessed him to apply here in the first place. Maybe temporary insanity. Maybe a fleeting desire for money that didn’t come from his brother’s bank account. Maybe he just liked records. Who knows.
What he did know was that half his high school had apparently applied to this place too, and by some cosmic joke, several of them had been hired. So now his breaks were sometimes spent hiding in the stockroom to avoid casual conversation.
But today was different.
Today, Rin had been minding his own business, restocking the indie rock shelf, when she walked in.
Tall-ish. Brunette. Expensive-looking bag clutched like she thought someone was going to steal it. Wearing sunglasses indoors — already a war crime in Rin’s book. She’d glanced at him once and immediately sneered, like his mere existence was an inconvenience to her shopping experience.
Which, honestly, was fine. Rin didn’t want to help her.
He didn’t want to help anyone.
He was perfectly content letting people wander until they either found what they wanted or left in frustration. That was how most days went. No one expected sparkling service from a record store employee who actively looked like he hated being alive.
However most people also found that if they did bother talking to Rin, he wasn’t working here for no reason. He knew music, really knew music.
But she wasn’t most people.
She’d been here for nearly fifty minutes now. Rin knew because he’d checked the clock. Twice.
She was wandering the aisles, glancing at genre labels like they were written in ancient Greek. Every so often, she’d pick up an album, flip it around, and frown at it like it had personally offended her.
It was unbearable.
Rin could tolerate silence. He could tolerate noise. What he couldn’t tolerate was watching someone treat the entire Pop Hits section like it was a crime scene.
Finally, after minute forty-nine, he caved.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Rin said, deadpan but technically polite. His eyebrows were already starting to crease. “Do you need help finding something?”
The girl jumped like he’d pulled a knife on her. Then blinked, surprised he could talk.
“Oh!” she said. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to find some good music.”
Rin stared at her.
She was surrounded by shelves of vinyl. Hundreds of records, classics and cult favorites and every genre under the sun. The very definition of good music. She was in a record store.
He gestured vaguely to the entire store. “Yeah, well. You’re in the right place.”
Okay. That was maybe a little snarky. But she didn’t seem to notice — or care. She just shrugged.
“Do you have any pop music?” she asked. “I tried looking over there, but there’s like… nothing?”
Rin blinked again. She was literally standing next to the Pop Hits sign. Neon pink. Couldn’t miss it.
He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was concussed.
Wordlessly, he walked to the Pop section, motioning her to follow. “You looking for a single or an album?”
“Either or.”
Cool. Super helpful.
“Right.” Rin flipped through the crates with the bored precision of someone who could do this blindfolded. “Okay, we’ve got Michael Jackson. Madonna. NSYNC. Bowie. Cher. Early Britney. Some newer pressings of older stuff, and a few limited releases.”
He was half-rambling now, but whatever. It wasn’t like she was listening.
He was starting to build a guess of what this girls taste was, and by now he was just buying time.
She cut him off.
“Do you maybe have anything by Taylor Swift? I mean, she’s such a lyricist, you know?”
Rin paused mid-flip. Very, very slowly, he turned to look at her.
Taylor. Swift.
Now, Rin didn’t hate Taylor Swift. He wasn’t a monster. He could admit the woman had talent, if cornered. But something about the way the girl said it — like she was revealing some sort of life changing take— made his brain short-circuit.
He stared at her, dead-eyed.
“Oh yeah,” he said flatly. “Total revolutionary.”
She beamed. “Right? You get it.”
He didn’t. He really didn’t.
He almost told her that their Taylor Swift section had been picked clean weeks ago by a stampede of people in pastel cardigans. He almost told her that if she wanted the Midnights vinyl in lavender marble she’d have to fight a dozen other Swifties for it at the next restock. He almost told her that Cher walked so Taylor could run.
But instead, he said nothing.
Instead he shuffled to the back of the pop section until he found the last Taylor Swift vinyl left. ‘The Tortured Poems Department’. He sighed before dropping it into the girl's hands and walking towards the check out without a single word.
“Will that be all?” He was seething inside slightly, but he tried not to let it show. The sooner she left the better.
Rin ringed her up and watched her walk away hugging the album to her chest.
Rin Itoshi was so annoyed.
Nanasae took a deep breath before stepping into the store — the one he’d been avoiding like the plague ever since he started working at Blue Lock.
The record store.
It wasn’t the store itself that bothered him. The layout was cool, the lighting always warm and golden, and the walls were stacked with everything from limited edition vinyls to old CDs no one bought but everyone browsed. The real issue was behind the counter.
Rin Itoshi.
Six foot two. Bright teal eyes. The social charm of hermit crab. And a general mood of some sort of pent up frustration and spite.
Nanasae could think of exactly five people who actually spoke to Rin on a semi-regular basis without trembling like a leaf.
Ryuusei and Charles who were somehow immune to fear. Ryuusei especially acted like nothing could touch him — which was both impressive and deeply concerning. Still, even they weren’t in Rin’s “good graces” (if such a thing existed). Charles was like a tolerated nuisance. Background noise. And Ryuusei was a not tolerated nuisance.
Then there were Isagi and Rin — a whole thing Nanasae hadn’t even begun to untangle. Ask anyone and they’d tell you the two hated each other’s guts. They bickered constantly, clashed in every game, and yet? They were always around each other. Walking to class. Eating lunch. Training late.
It made no sense.
He figured maybe they were just competitive. Or possibly in love. Not his business, really. Just interesting.
Bachira and Hiori rounded out the list. Bachira was Isagi’s best friend. Rumor had it Bachira hadn’t actually had that many friends at his old school. But after meeting in P.E, he and Isagi instantly became best friends. Even if their form of a bonding activity was somehow managing to get some sort of white haired prodigy expelled.
Bachira and Isagi were always together. Literally always.
Once during a school project they got separated, and Isagi no joke made a deal with the teacher that if he won some weird academic tournament they could be put in the same group again.
It was really weird.
But by proxy, Bachira, Rin, and Isagi became some sort of little trio.
Hiori was one of Nanasae’s own closest friends, and yet even he had somehow cracked the code of talking to Rin. Friends might’ve been a stretch — they didn’t hang out often — but they shared an understanding. Some sort of relationship Nanasae couldn’t understand.
One where they didn’t necessarily talk to eachother more so just stayed with eachother, enjoyed the company.
As for Rin and Nanasae?
They had no relationship. None. Zip. Nada.
Rin didn’t ignore him or act cold. If anything, he seemed politely indifferent. Which was almost worse. Because every time Nanasae thought about saying something, anything, his brain short-circuited like a cheap fan in summer.
He blamed the height. And the eyes. And maybe the general vibe that Rin could, in a pinch, commit murder and walk away with a clean record.
So why was he here?
Why was he standing in front of the glass door, hand hovering over the handle, heart beating like he was about to confess a felony?
Simple: everyone bailed on ice cream.
Nanasae had just finished a long shift at JiangNan Delicacy. He smelled vaguely like soup broth, his back hurt, and all he wanted was to sit in the grass outside the local ice cream shop with his friends and decompress.
The problem was, only three people were available: Ryuusei, Charles, and by some weird turn of events Alexis Ness, the new hire at Barnes & Noble. Nanasae liked him well enough, but he’d never really seen him talking to anyone but some weird kid Micheal Kaiser.
Micheal Kaiser also scared him. Maybe he was just a wimp. Whatever, he could live with that. There were worse things to be in life than a coward.
And then his eyes had drifted across the street.
The record store. That stupid glowing sign. That faint music playing from inside, the kind you didn’t recognize but still wanted to hum along to.
Somewhere in his sleep-deprived brain, a terrible idea had bloomed.
Maybe Rin would want to come too.
Maybe Nanasae had finally hit his head too hard while bussing tables.
Still, his legs moved before his brain could veto the plan.
Clack. The door opened.
The soft chime of the bell overhead echoed across the store like a warning shot.
Rin was at the counter, headphones draped loosely around his neck, scrolling through something on the register’s touchscreen. The store was empty except for a couple browsing the jazz section in the back.
Nanasae stepped in.
He stood there. Awkwardly. Like a mannequin brought to life. The door clicked shut behind him, and Rin looked up.
Their eyes met.
Nanasae immediately forgot how to exist.
Rin raised a brow. “…Can I help you?”
Nanasae cleared his throat. “Uh. Yeah. No. Well—kind of?”
Rin blinked.
God, he was doing terribly.
“I mean, not help help. I’m not looking for a record or anything,” Nanasae continued, stepping up to the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just, uh… I was in the area. And I thought maybe. Y’know.”
He trailed off. Rin stared at him. Still no expression. Still looking vaguely like a sentient statue.
Nanasae tried again.
“Me and some of the guys are getting ice cream.”
No reaction.
“It’s not a weird thing,” he added quickly. “Just, like a chill hangout.. End-of-the-week kind of thing.”
Rin tilted his head slightly. “…And?”
Nanasae took a breath.
“And I thought maybe you’d want to come?”
Silence.
The people in the back shifted a record off the shelf. The register beeped quietly. Nanasae could hear his own heart pounding. Yeesh dude get it together , he told himself.
Rin stared at him for a long moment. So long that Nanasae debated whether he should just say forget it and run out of the store.
Finally, Rin spoke.
“Who’s going?”
Nanasae blinked. “Uh. Me. Ryuusei. Charles. Alexis Ness?”
Rin narrowed his eyes like he was mentally ranking the social sins of each of those people.
“You’re inviting me” He pointed at himself with a grimace on his face. “ to get ice cream… with Shidou and Charles?”
“Well, when you say it like that—” Nanasae grimaced. “Yeah. Technically. But uh, me and Alexis will also be there, if that helps? At all?”
Rin’s gaze swept over him, unreadable. Then he looked back at the screen and clicked something. His fingers tapped the register. The music in the store shifted tracks.
Nanasae shifted on his feet.
And just when he was about to give up and say “nevermind,” Rin exhaled through his nose and said:
“I get off in fifteen.”
Nanasae blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
Rin shrugged one shoulder. “You’re buying.”
“Wait, what?”
“You asked. I’m not paying for ice cream with Shidou.”
“…Okay, fair.”
Nanasae all but skipped out of the store.
Rin was going insane.
He must’ve caught some kind of illness — one that made him do things completely out of character. Things he’d never dream of doing if he were thinking straight.
Like agreeing to ice cream with several people he either didn’t care to know, or actively disliked.
Seriously, what the hell was he thinking?
He loathed Shidou. Disliked Charles. Had no real opinion on Nanasae. And Alexis? He’d spoken to him once. Asked for a book recommendation, and ended up listening to a full essay about Eragon.
So yeah. Definitely sick.
Because there was no other explanation for why he’d agreed to something like that. Ice cream wasn’t worth this level of suffering. Not even close.
He should’ve said no.
Hed usually have said no.
But somehow, when Nanasae had shown up at the record store—awkward, earnest, fumbling through sentences like each one weighed a ton—Rin hadn’t.
Instead his stupid eyes looked at the clock, his idiotic hands closed off the register, and his moronic mouth had said.
“I get off in fifeteen.”
When Nanasae left Rin told himself he’d close up, and then simply cancel.
No harm no foul. Nanasae would understand.
And yet, somehow, fifteen minutes later, he was walking out of the store next to Nanasae, muttering under his breath about how he’d never forgive himself for this.
As he locked up the shop and tugged the lanyard from around his neck, Rin couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d ended up here — halfway between irritation and resignation.
He’d told himself it was harmless. Just one outing. He’d survive. Maybe even grab his ice cream to-go and vanish halfway through. But deep down, he already knew he wouldn’t.
Because Rin Itoshi didn’t half-commit to things, even stupid ones.
And he hated that about himself.
“So uh, how do you like working here?” Nanasae asked. Rin almost grimaced, he really hated small talk, and he could tell the guy was nervous.
“It’s fine.” Rin replied, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m good with music.”
Nanasae nodded to himself before pulling Rin slightly, gesturing to the right. A couple feet away there was an ice cream shop.
Shidou was there hoping on the balls of feet, next to him was Charles and Ness, who were waving.
Shidou took one look at them before singing “Ohhhh Rinnieeeee!!!!”
If there was a just and righteous god, strike Rin down right now.