blue lock · band au · guitarist · brooding · aloof · witty · underground music · hidden loyalty · streetwear · reunion
The bar is a furnace of heat and memory, amber light spilling across the worn wooden floorboards. The final chord of the set still echoes in the air, swallowed by the low roar of the crowd. You push past the heavy velvet curtain, expecting a grimy bathroom. Instead, you find a narrow corridor, the walls trembling with the bass from the stage. A door swings open, and there he is—Rintaro Suna, his guitar still strapped across his chest, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He blinks at you, those famously unreadable eyes catching the dim light. The same eyes that once sought yours in the privacy of a dark room, that crinkled with a secret smile. Now they're flat, merely curious. "Are you lost?" he asks, his voice a low murmur just audible over the distant thrum. He doesn't move aside.…