Chapter Text
Rin didn’t realize there was something wrong with him until he spoke up as a child.
“Miss Manami,” He began when his kindergarten teacher was tending to another child. She was married to one of the other staff that worked in the office, both had acknowledged that when the children asked. They had always seemed so happy, similar to how his mother and father were, but there was one difference he couldn’t help but notice… “Why doesn’t your string connect?”
“Hmm? What do you mean, Rin?” Manami asked with a confused smile. “What string?”
“The red string on your finger.” Rin pointed to her left hand. She glanced down but still seemed puzzled. “It goes far away from Mr. Aikawa. Aren’t they supposed to connect?”
“I’m sorry, Rin, I don’t know what you mean.” Manami replied calmly, making Rin the confused one. “I don’t have a string on my finger.”
“Yes, you do.” Rin insisted because he was right. He knew he was right. “Everyone has a string on their finger except me.”
Manami blinked, her eyes turning to concern instead. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Rin, you have a string on your finger.” Manami said with an affirmative nod and a confident smile. “Everyone does. It’s just we can’t see our own.”
Rin blinked. He had never considered such a thing. He had always been able to see the faint red lines around people and never considered that he couldn’t see his. But if Miss Manami couldn’t see hers but could see his, it must be true.
So he wanted to be useful. He saw his classmates’ strings connect together and told them. After all, that means they could be happy just like his mother and father.
“Eww! I don’t want to be connected with stinky Shouto!” Amami from the Penguin class cried out after Rin told her that she should be happy with him. “Rin is weird! Stop saying that!”
“But you’ll be happy!” Rin tried to reason. Didn’t everyone want to be happy?
“You’ll be happy with stinky Shouto!” Kazuki, a student from the Lion class, snickered. “Amami and stinky Shouto are getting married!”
The other boys in the Lion class started laughing as Amami stomped her feet. “No, we’re not! Stop it!”
But they didn’t stop.
Rin stared, not sure how to handle this. After all, being connected meant they were going to get married and be happy, so why was Amami saying ‘no’?
“I hate you all! Especially Shouto!” Amami cried out, tears streaming down her face, and ran off into the school.
But Amami could never hate Shouto. After all, they were connected together and that meant happiness.
Right?
“Rin.” His mother began as they sat together at the dining room table. She was smiling but it wasn’t fully confident. “You have a power no one else has and that can scare people sometimes. For now, it’s best if you don’t tell people they’re connected.”
“Why not?” Rin asked as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Don’t people want to be connected? Isn’t the person you’re connected with the one that makes you the happiest?”
The words came out of his mouth so naturally as if drilled into his head every day. This wasn’t the case, however, as Rin never revealed he had these ‘powers’ before because he didn’t even know it was such. As soon as was born, he just knew what these red strings were and the meaning behind them. He had no reason to question this ability and was only upset that he didn’t have a red string attached to his finger.
It didn’t matter because his brother made him the happiest in the world.
“But was Amami happy when you told her?” His mother asked. Rin looked down. “Some people do not understand your powers and can be scared of it.”
“Why would they be scared? Don’t they want to be happy?” Rin asked, his young mind unable to comprehend it properly.
That was human nature, right? To be happy.
“It’s not that but sometimes, people are afraid of the future.” His mother replied, making Rin even more confused. “Even if you know who you’re fated to be with, we don’t know how they’ll respond, whether they’re a good person, what challenges will be met with them in the future. It is unpredictable and some people like to take things day by day and live in the moment.”
“I don’t get it.”
His mother smiled then stroked his hair.
Rin wondered what he was supposed to understand.
“One day, I hope you will.”
No matter where he went, all he could see was red. Even in a facility called Blue Lock, there was more red than blue around him.
Red strings crossed, hardly finding their way connected to each other but on the rare occasion that it did, Rin ignored it, keeping quiet as if it didn’t exist.
People wouldn’t want to hear his words, he realized that since he was young. He faintly remembered a young girl crying, telling him that she hated him, and the vague image of his kindergarten teacher’s red eyes, which he later learned was from tears of learning about her cheating husband. After that, he noticed, even at his young age, how they looked at him strangely like he was some sort of alien that didn’t belong. They didn’t want him there. No one did.
Not even his brother.
“Blue Lock wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Rin had looked at Isagi skeptically when he told him this after returning to Blue Lock after a break. He had left angry, furious, ready to kill—
Yet the same person who he wanted to kill said something stupid like that.
Isagi Yoichi said that with confidence, no hint of lies, eyes unwavering as he looked at him with that stupid grin. There was no disdain or implication that Rin’s presence was negative at Blue Lock. Unlike everyone else that wished to crush his (former) number one status, looking at him in pure hatred and despair, Isagi didn’t. He saw frustration and anger, but there was a spark – a shine that never faded.
It was like how his father looked at his mother.
But when Rin looked down at Isagi’s left hand, he could see the red string, like everyone else’s, connected to something in the distance and away from them, Rin remaining unattached to anyone.
The screams of the crowd was just white noise to Rin, eyes focused on the battle in front of him.
Left, right, through the legs, above the head.
Every movement was a fight but calculated, studying his opponents’ moves. He could see which way they wanted to go with a glance, instinctually looking for the best option so he could score the goal.
No one could stop him. He was invincible on the field. It was a stressful situation but he thrived on such chaos. He could predict the outcome of the match and even when things seemed hopeless, he knew he would win. He knew he would score the needed points.
Until he couldn’t.
It was an opponent that overpowered him in strength. Usually, he would be able to catch them off guard with his agility and technique but this one seemed like a wall – unmovable. These few challenges are nothing to Rin. He needed to use his sight – his instincts – to take him down.
A flash of red caught his eye.
The entire field was brimmed with red that he learned to ignore over the years but this one was different. Rin couldn’t place it, but he knew exactly whose thread it belonged to. He knew exactly where the source was and instinctively he knew.
He knew.
His body moved on its own, passing the ball to what seemed like nothing but Isagi was ready. He always knew where to go when Rin faced challenges as if preparing for him to be used again. No matter what, Isagi moved in tandem, knowing what Rin needed, what he desired.
And that pissed him off.
Isagi made a run for the goal, the fucking selfish egoist was only getting so close because of him. Rin ran after him once his opponent was distracted by Isagi. He too could make himself available for the perfect shot. With the opponents homing in on Isagi, he had no choice but to pass and he would be searching for the best option.
Rin.
The ball landed at his feet as expected and because of that, Rin was able to respond immediately, kicking the ball with all the power he could into the goal.
The whistle went off.
The end of the game.
They had won.
The white noise slowly seeped into his consciousness more loudly and Rin was suddenly aware of his teammates heading towards him but all he saw was the distinctive red thread attached to one person in particular.
“Rin, we did it!” Isagi yelled.
Just like on the field, he could read his movements. He knew that Isagi would tackle him at any second to celebrate their victory. He could avoid him easily with this information, leaving him to hit the ground once more.
But he didn’t move from his spot.
Isagi tackled him and Rin caught him, hands going under Isagi’s legs to steady him. Isagi’s arms were around his neck, his chest in Rin’s face.
He could smell the disgusting sweat that poured over him during the match.
He could feel the heat of his body, blood pumping and unable to disengage from the adrenaline.
He could hear gasps and cheers though he had no context of the former.
He could taste something distinct in his tongue, barely registering that he shouldn’t be able to taste something.
And when he realized it, Isagi’s face moved away, face red, not from the high of winning, his tongue slowly swiping against his lips.
Those stupidly big eyes were soft and gentle, and even at that moment when they were surrounded by their teammates, the media, and the crowd, Isagi only looked at him.
It was as if, for a moment, Rin had his own red string connecting to Isagi.