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Dear Rin-Rin,
A-HA! I got you!
Can’t dodge my texts if I get them hand-delivered to you… Not that I even have your number… And I suppose you could just toss this. But hey! Not environmentally-friendly! Earth’s on fire, you know? That’s right. The eco-conscious thing to do is read this all the way through.
Now, what shall I do with your undivided attention?
As you know, I’m in Paris (who knew playing for Paris X Gen meant going to Paris?) and it’s like a movie here. The streets wind in a way that makes you feel like you’re going nowhere and everywhere at once. They’ve also got rivers here, just like back home. But the water is a little off. Maybe it’s the pollution. It’s definitely the pollution. Overall, Paris is magic. My cells sing with every sunrise and they lull me to sleep with every sunset. Did you know I go to cafés now?! Of course you didn’t. It’s crazy, I know. What’s a guy like me doing in a café? I’d rather sit at home with my feet on the table. You’d love it here, too. It seems right up your alley. I hope Madrid is just as magical for you.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what your life is like over there. Is it the same as here? It’s all Europe, isn’t it? They can’t be all that different. But maybe the food’s better where you are. Or is it worse? You’ll have to write back and tell me. The French go really crazy with their desserts, but they’ve got me on a tight meal plan and exercise program, so this bod I know you love won’t change, don’t you worry.
I bet they’ve got you on some crazy regimens and routines, too. I’m sure you’re following them to a tee because you wanna impress Big Bro. Do me a favour, will you? Care less about what he thinks. If you must know, Lashes Senior thinks the world of you. You can see it in his eyes. Have a look and see for yourself, but don’t let that get to your head.
Who am I kidding? I’m sure that’ll have you finally smiling for the first time in your brooding teenage heartthrob life.
I wish I could see that.
Just like how I wish you would write me back. So, write back, okay?
Love,
Antennas
Dear Rin-Rin,
I wonder if my last letter even made it to you. It was a big swing sending something to the Re Al fan mail address, I know. Do they have to open these up to check that I’m not a terrorist? I’m not, I swear! A terror, yes, but a terrorist, no.
I wish there was a way to know that you’re getting these. I’m a busy guy, you know. Can’t be writing letters to nobody. I tried asking Sae and he told me that it was none of my damn business. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I can’t believe he talks to me more than you do. And he has way less reasons to. You and I have known each other for longer. You could say we have history. How romantic, eh?
Maybe you were right to not give me your number. Or I guess I was right to never ask for it. I wanted to, but if I can be totally honest, I figured you’d just say no. Scared you'd just say no.
The Re Al mailroom nerds reading this must think I’m a total loser.
By the way, congratulations on your hat trick against Barcha. I read about it in the news (and by news I mean social media). Too bad Lavinho and Scar-Face stole back the match. Neither of them got hat tricks, though. I’m not sure if that’s any comfort. Or that you even need comfort. If I didn’t have a game myself, I would have watched it, because I always try to watch your games. I was just warming the bench, though, so I guess I could have. Maybe by the time you get this, I will have finally played a game.
There’s something kinda nice about writing letters to you. Over the phone, everything feels so short. When it’s just me, pen and paper, I feel like I could go on forever, like I could tell you anything. Have you ever wondered why I am the way I am? I guess that requires you to have thought about me. Do you? When we’re not in the same room? On the same field? I guess if you are reading this, then I’m crossing your mind right now. With that possibility in mind, I’ll continue to write. Force myself into your view. You will have no choice but to think of me.
And if you aren’t reading this, it’s still liberating to put the words down. There’s so much that I’m dying to say, all the time. It needs to go somewhere. Even if it ends up in a Spanish landfill. Or recycling plant. Depends on how eco-friendly you’re feeling. If you read my last letter, you’ll get the reference.
I don’t know how to end these things. That might be because I don’t want this to end. Some might call it psychosis, but it really feels like I’m talking to you.
What if I told you a joke? Like, I wish we were in the same country again.
That’s not a joke, though. I really do.
Love,
Antennas
Dear Rin-Rin,
Happy birthday!
Sorry about the corny card. Believe it or not, it’s the coolest one at the post office. I’m writing this now in the café next door. They’re gonna make me pay extra to mail it. Something about oversized mail. But it’s just a card, man! Good thing I didn’t tell them about your gift. But if a mail inspector is reading this it’s not drugs! Just an innocent little dandelion. Your precious starting striker will not be harmed by it!
You into flowers, Rin-Rin? Or are you one of those guys that hates girly things? Lame, if true. But either way, dandelions are technically weeds. I saw this one growing out of a crack in the pavement. A bit of life exploding through the destruction of concrete. I took it back to my place and pressed it with an old telephone book left behind by the last tenant. Now it will be on its way to you.
Your special day will have long passed by the time you get this card, if you ever get it, but I hope you celebrated big time. Eighteen is a big one. Especially in Spain — you can drink now! I’ll be seriously offended if you don’t go out and get drunk. I bet you are a fun drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cut loose. Be a fun adult, okay? I cut you some slack because you were a teenager and I know puberty can make you a bitch, but that shit’s over now! If I ever see you again, it better be all smiles.
Don’t get me wrong: You’re not Rin-Rin if you aren’t a little gloomy. Your face was made for it: big expressive blue eyes — or are they green? Maybe something in between. The colour of a stagnant pond and the raging ocean waves. I swear you were carved from the clouds of a snow storm.
But let’s see those baby blues-slash-baby greens express some joy. Winter eventually gives way to spring. I know you have it in you. I’ve seen you get close to it, watching you play. Find that place on the brink of joy and cross over. You know that I've been dying to see you smile.
Perhaps that can be my birthday present from you. You’ve got time. It’s July 7th in case you didn’t know.
Love,
Antennas
Dear Rin-Rin,
I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to write to you again, but I had a good day today and all I wanted to do was tell you about it.
Charles found out that I have never been to the Louvre and he dragged me there right from practice. Didn’t even have time to change out of my practice clothes. I looked really out of place among the tourists, all dressed their best to look like Parisians. But I guess I always stick out like a sore thumb wherever I go.
When we got there, the wait was long, but I finally got to see the Mona Lisa. There’s really nothing like seeing her face to face. I wanted so bad to reach out and touch her, feel the brush strokes with my fingertips. But that would have ended in deportation. I suppose looking will have to be enough. That’s the thing I hate about art. I have always believed it should be felt by all the senses.
Afterwards, we went to the Musée d’Orsay. Charles got annoyed with me because I spent too much time looking at Delacroix’s The Lion Hunt. I couldn’t tell him why because even I don’t know. There’s just something extraordinary about a beast that takes many to destroy — I can’t look away, my cells call for me to dive in. How do you dive into a painting?
The reason for my epistolary silence is because it has been a while since my last good day. If I can be honest here, since you might not even see, the movie magic of Paris has worn off. I’m no longer a café guy. I’m not even a feet-on-the-table guy. When I’m not at practice, I’m in bed. I’m a bed guy now, and you don’t want to know how long it’s been since I’ve changed the bed sheets. Don’t judge me, okay? I’ve been struggling with a bit of melancholy. I feel like you can relate. Maybe not right now since you continue to kill it over there in Spain. But I can tell from your face, back when we were in Blue Lock, you’ve felt like this before. You might be just like me.
At first, it was like a vacation. Those are always fun. I think it’s because they’re temporary. But the permanence of my situation settled in and I’m having trouble adjusting to life over here. You know how I said I always stick out like a sore thumb? Well, if you thought it was bad in Japan, it’s even worse over here. The thumb is worse than sore, it’s broken! I’m barely getting by with my rudimentary French and whenever I try, most people just speak English to me instead, which I’m not solid on either. Only Charles is nice enough to pretend my verbal skills are acceptable.
Those translating devices from purple bun’s daddy didn’t catch on over here. Me and Crow-chan are the only ones wearing them, just so we can understand. To talk to people, though, we need to speak English. I’ve gone from needing only one language to needing three! And the higher-ups want us to work towards not using the earbuds. They take that assimilation shit seriously over here.
I guess on the bright side, I get to play! But on the dim side, it’s not much. I’m not a starter yet, unlike you, you overachiever. I’m only playing every other game. There are so many geniuses over here, stealing all my play time. None of them are as crabby or as talented as you, though. You’re way better than me. My explosions don’t compare to the havoc you wreak — you are perhaps the greatest explosion of them all.
Don’t get too comfortable though, I’ll catch up to you soon enough. That’s a promise.
Love,
Antennas
Dear Rin-Rin,
Do you want a tip on how to piss off Sae-chan?
I stumbled across this intel completely by accident. I mean, I’m always trying to poke the bear when it comes to you grumpy pair of brothers, but oh boy did I get mauled!
You know Bunny Iglesias, of course. He actually gave me his number while we were at the World Cup. Perhaps you will follow his example? Anyways, I know Sae’s got this wooden stick up his butt about the guy. I’m thinking there’s some rookie days drama that I’m going to have to wheedle out of them both one of these days. Basically, I joked about how they should just hate-fuck already and get it over with. Boy, did he not like that. I immediately got a phone call and when I picked up he shouted “Fuck you!” Next thing I know my number is blocked. Still waiting for him to unblock… Could you actually put in a good word for me?
Perhaps pissing off your big bro isn’t something you wanna do. I’m not sure what it is you both have going on, but I know it’s there. About that: I have some questions to ask and also some things to say.
Number one: What happened? Whenever I’m on the field with you two, I get the sense you haven’t spoken for some time. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters growing up, and I was so jealous of kids like you who had a friend made just for them. I was very lonely.
Number two: After all that happened, were you lonely too? Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.
Number three: These things, these fights and clashes and weirdnesses that we have with people — it’s rarely ever anyone’s fault. Explosions are a part of life. If you and Sae-chan were meant to explode, there’s nothing you or he could have done to stop it. The dust will settle and you will come together again. I mean, you’re both playing on the same team and you’re killing it. I have faith that whatever you want your relationship with him to be, it will be.
Anyways, this is probably all way out of line, but you should expect that from me by now, right?
In fact, you’ve likely got me all figured out, but I still want to keep surprising you, though.
Love,
Antennas
Dear Rin-Rin,
It looks like my letters might be getting to you after all.
Sae sent me a text today. It seems his darling little brother asked him to unblock a certain pest. I can only assume that the pest is me. I promise that I’m going to think long and hard about the next thing I say to him. Don’t want to get blocked again! At least not so soon after getting unblocked. Thank you, Rin-Rin.
You can call me weird for this, or worse, but talking to him, just like these letters, feels like I’m talking to you. Do you know I’d always ask him about you? He never tells me, though. As weird as you get when it comes to him, he gets just as weird about you. “How would I know?” he says, like he isn’t sharing an apartment with you. I’m sure he dotes on you like the Mother Hen I theorize him to be. He just won’t ever admit it. Your parents did not socialize either of you to be emotionally intelligent, but I’m not one to talk. I’m basically using you as my personal diary, after all. You won’t spill my secrets, will you? They’re basically all about you anyways…
Hey, guess what? I’m a starter now. They’ve got me on right midfield. It’s not striker or forward, but the job description is the same: explode. Last night, I scored the game-winning goal. It wasn’t an important match by any means, but as soon as the ball hit the back of the net and the ending whistle blew, I was swept up in a wave of limbs. They lifted me in the air, Rin-Rin! Can you believe it? I am part of a team… I can’t wrap my head around it. This kinda thing never happened to me before Blue Lock. Before meeting you. I’m still getting used to it.
And speaking of getting used to things, the locals are talking to me in French now!
Do you know if danishes are from Denmark? Either way, this bakery next to my flat has the best ones in the world. Now, whenever I order my morning danish (or danishes), the cashiers have stopped giving me the price in English! If you’re ever here, you have to try them. In fact, let me take you and I’ll order two for us in flawless French.
Things are getting better here… It’s all coming up Ryuusei!
Now all I need is a reply from you.
Love,
Antennas
Dear Rin,
I thought you might prefer it if I called you that from now on.
You don’t seem like a guy with preferences. Just a long list of things he hates. In fact, I only kept on with the nickname because I thought you’d despise it. You always pretended not to care. Or, rather, believed you didn’t. I lived for the moments where you proved yourself wrong, but I don’t want to be something you hate anymore.
Either way, I figured it was time I retired that nickname. It’s not that inventive, is it? Just your name. Times two.
Speaking of your name, it’s pretty apt, don’t you think? To be named after the cold. This has nothing to do with you not writing back. You don’t have to write me back. My letters will keep coming to you regardless. They’re part of my routine. It would be too weird for me if I just stopped.
I’m calling you cold, Rin. But not like an unaffectionate mother. I mean like the temperature of snow. Did it snow on the day you were born? It would have been poetic if it did. But I know the season you were born in and it isn’t known for that. In fact, as you should be aware, I know the exact day. I still wear it on my back. I’ve always wondered if you noticed that.
Maybe the word I’m looking for is graceful. The way snow descends from the sky, snowflake by snowflake. You could lose yourself by just watching. The enemy of life: Nothing survives its touch, nothing lives beneath its weight. They could name a season for the battlefield you create.
Watching you play through camera lenses is just not the same as experiencing it in person. That’s why I’ve got my eyes on the clouds, wishing for the snow to come.
I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I’m finally running out of words to say. It’s possible my next letter will just be gibberish. Gotta send you something. How else can I force you to think about me?
Love,
Ryuusei (I think it’s only fair)
Antennas,
It is good to have something that is just ours. Don’t you dare start calling me Rin.
Thank you for the letters. I’ve read each one. Even in writing you are impossible to ignore. If anything, you are consistent.
My plane lands at CDG @ 10:57am on July 6. See you there.
Rin-Rin.