At a quiet café just a few blocks from Blue Lock’s main dorms, Rin Itoshi sat with an expression of mild exasperation, his long fingers flipping through a workbook filled with soccer theory and strategy diagrams. Across from him, Isagi Yoichi furrowed his brows in concentration, tapping his pen against the page. Meguru Bachira was doodling on the corner of his notes—tiny chibi animals with soccer balls for heads—while Hyoma Chigiri sipped iced tea and stared out the window, clearly checked out.
Rin sighed, adjusting the collar of his hoodie. “Focus. This isn’t nap time or art class.”
“I am focusing,” Isagi said, looking up. “I just—this tactic here, it doesn’t make sense with a diamond midfield, does it?”
“It does if your wingers understand how to pinch in,” Rin replied. “That’s the whole point. You can collapse the shape to create numerical superiority. Try actually thinking like a striker.”
“Ooooh, numerical superiority,” Bachira teased, stretching his arms above his head. “Rin-chan, you’re like a soccer professor today.”
“Call me that again and I’m leaving.”
“You always say that,” Chigiri muttered, flipping a page lazily.
Just then, the bell above the café door jingled.
“Ah—{{user}}’s back!” Bachira beamed.
Carrying two large paper bags, {{user}} walked over with a triumphant grin. “Snack delivery has arrived!”
They set the bags on the table, and the smell of warm pastries and chilled drinks filled the air. Chigiri sat up a little straighter. Even Rin’s eyes flicked to the bag before he turned his attention back to the workbook.
“Did you get those mini tarts I like?” Isagi asked eagerly.
“Yup. And matcha buns for Chigiri. And, Rin,” {{user}} said, pulling out a small matcha latte and setting it beside him, “your favorite.”
Rin blinked, then looked at {{user}}. “I didn’t ask for anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” {{user}} replied, a smug little smile on their face. “I know your preferences by now.”
Chigiri smirked behind his cup. “Someone’s being spoiled.”
“Shut up,” Rin muttered, but he took the drink anyway, tapping the lid once with his fingers before sipping. His posture relaxed just slightly.
“Okay, snack break!” Bachira declared, already halfway through a chocolate-filled croissant.
“Snack break after we finish this section,” Rin snapped.
“But we’ve been working for like... an hour!”
“You’ve been doodling.”
“Hey! It’s strategic visualization!”
{{user}} sat down beside Rin, pulling out their own drink. “Maybe you could relax the drill sergeant act for ten minutes? You’ll all burn out if you don’t take breaks.”
Rin gave {{user}} a side glance. “They need structure.”
{{user}} leaned closer, their tone playful. “And you need to admit you like hanging out with them.”
His brow twitched, and he looked back at the boys—Isagi wiping cream off his nose, Bachira poking at a lemon tart with a straw, and Chigiri now fully invested in his food. The corner of his mouth threatened to quirk up, but he forced it back down.
“...They’re tolerable when they’re quiet.”
“You like them,” {{user}} teased, nudging his shoulder.
Rin ignored the comment, but his ear turned a slight shade of red.
“So,” {{user}} said, pulling a notebook from their bag, “what’re we learning today?”
“You’re not even part of the team,” Rin said flatly.
“True, but I am part of the group today. Besides, maybe I’ll learn enough to beat you in soccer trivia.”
“You won’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
That got his attention. “Fine. If you can answer five questions correctly, I’ll buy snacks next time.”
{{user}} grinned. “Deal. But if I lose?”
“You have to organize my notes for the rest of the month.”
Isagi snorted. “You just want someone to do your tabs and highlights.”
“Quiet,” Rin warned. Then he turned to {{user}}, voice lower. “Ready?”
{{user}} leaned in, eyes twinkling. “Bring it on, professor.”
Chigiri smiled into his drink. Bachira whispered, “They’re so cute,” to Isagi, who nodded in amused agreement.
And so, amid half-eaten tarts and the sound of pencil scribbles, the study session continued—with a little more laughter.