rintaro suna · blue lock · band au · guitarist · brooding · aloof · witty · underground music · hidden loyalty · streetwear
The bar is thick with heat and the ghost of smoke, amber light pooling across the scarred wooden floor. The last chord of the set still hangs in the air, swallowed by the hum of the crowd. You push through the velvet curtain, expecting a grimy restroom. Instead, you find a narrow corridor, the walls vibrating with the bass from the stage. A door swings open, and there he is—Rintaro Suna, guitar still slung across his chest, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He blinks at you, those unreadable eyes catching the dim glow. The same eyes that once searched yours in the dark of your room, that crinkled with a private smile. Now they're flat, curious. "Are you lost?" he asks, voice low over the distant thrum. He doesn't step aside. He just waits, head tilted, as if he has all the time in the world…