#itoshisae

you knew it from the start.

sae itoshi was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. he was calm, quiet, collected. everything about him felt composed — from the way he played to the way he spoke to the way he barely blinked when you told him you loved him for the first time.

he just nodded, kissed the top of your head, and said, "mm."

and you let it go.

you told yourself he was just reserved. that he wasn't the type for grand displays. that it didn't mean he didn't care — he just showed it differently.

but over time, the "differently" started to feel like not at all.

you'd come home from a long day, exhausted and aching, hoping for even a fraction of his attention, and all he'd do was glance up from his phone with a quiet, "hey."

you told him about your promotion — he said, "cool."

you cried over a rough week — he patted your shoulder.

you kissed him goodbye before a trip, whispered "i'll miss you," and he just nodded, pulling his hoodie over his head.

no "i miss you too." no "be safe." no "call me when you land."

just silence.

and you started to wonder if maybe you were the only one who ever really showed up for this relationship at all.

does he even like you?

the question hits you late one night, uninvited but relentless — the kind that doesn't whisper, doesn't knock, just barges in and makes itself at home.

you're lying in bed, staring at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of clarity. the room is still, but your thoughts are anything but. they spiral and loop and twist until you're left with nothing but that single, sharp doubt.

does he even like you?

not love. you're not reaching for something that far anymore. you stopped hoping for that a while ago.

but like? does he even like who you are — your voice, your laugh, your dumb little stories about your day? did he ever look at you and feel warmth? did his heart ever speed up when you texted?

you're not sure.

when you go back in your mind, sift through all the moments, it's hard to find proof.

you remember speaking and getting a shrug in response. you remember telling him how tired you were, and him not even looking up from his phone. you remember trying to make him laugh and feeling like you were talking into an empty room.

he didn't fight. he didn't try. he just... let things pass.

like he was always a step outside the relationship — watching, waiting, but never stepping in. like he was barely there at all.

you think about how it always felt like you were the one showing up. you were the one asking how his day went. you were the one remembering his schedules, planning the dates, reaching for his hand first.

always you.

did he ever get excited to see you? did he ever miss you when you were gone? did he ever talk about you when you weren't around?

God, does he even like you?

because loving someone — real love — that takes presence. intention. warmth. and he was so cold.

so detached. so distant, even when he was sitting right beside you.

and maybe what hurts the most is that you let yourself settle for it. you convinced yourself that he was just tired. or busy. or bad at expressing himself. you gave him excuses when he wouldn't give you effort. you kept trying, kept pouring, even when the well on his side was bone-dry.

you thought it was worth it.

but now, lying here in the dark with your heart knotted up in your chest, you realize you don't know the answer to the most basic question of all.

does he even like you?

you weren't expecting to hear from rin.

not after everything. not after the silence that followed your quiet unraveling with sae.

but he texts you one night, short and to the point:

rin (9:03 pm): you should know what happened between me and sae.

a beat. then another message:

rin (9:04 pm): he won. our dream's over. he made sure of it.

you stare at the screen, heart suddenly too loud in your chest.

you: what do you mean?

he calls you. you answer.

there's silence for a second, then rin's voice—tired, tight.

"we played. one on one. i told him i still wanted to be the best with him. that we could still chase what we promised when we were kids."

you don't say anything. you know what that promise meant. sae had told you once, half-asleep with his head in your lap, how much that dream used to matter.

"he said he doesn't believe in it anymore," rin continues, bitter. "that being the top striker's not worth it. that it's not his path."

you close your eyes.

"i told him i still believe in it. in him. but he wouldn't bend."

rin's voice lowers. "he said... he said he can't be what everyone needs him to be. not to japan. not to football. not to you."

your breath hitches.

"he said it like it didn't matter. like you didn't matter."

you bite down hard on the inside of your cheek.

"i don't think he meant it," rin adds. "but he still said it. and i thought... you should know."

you whisper, "thanks for telling me."

rin sighs through the phone. "i told him he was a coward. for giving up on us. on you. i don't think it even got through."

you nod, even though he can't see it. "it did. even if he pretends it didn't."

rin is quiet for a while, then: "he's lost, you know. even if he's pretending to be focused. i think he let go of everything that ever made him feel anything. even you."

the words slice deeper than you expect.

but somehow, hearing them from rin—someone who loved sae in his own fractured way—makes it more real. and a little easier to grieve.

you say a soft goodbye and hang up. 

what the fuck. 

you find him after evening practice, alone in the hallway near the locker rooms, towel slung over his neck and hair still damp from the shower. he's looking down at his phone, texting someone — maybe his agent, maybe no one — but he looks up when he hears your footsteps.

his expression flickers for a second — annoyance, surprise, something colder — then flattens. "what."

not hey. not what's wrong? just what.

you stop a few feet away from him, jaw tight. "i talked to rin."

he blinks, slow. "okay?"

"he told me what happened between you two."

there's a pause. then he scoffs.

"seriously?" sae mutters, rolling his eyes. "of course he did."

"you're not even surprised," you say, folding your arms. "you just assumed he'd tell me."

"because he always does. can't keep anything to himself, apparently."

your eyes narrow. "he told me because you wouldn't."

"because it's none of your business."

your breath catches. "excuse me?"

"i said," he repeats, stepping around you toward the exit, "it wasn't your business. it was between me and rin. i don't know why he felt the need to drag you into it."

you follow after him, sharp on his heels. "maybe because i'm part of your life? or did you forget that too, while you were busy burning every bridge that ever meant something to you?"

he stops walking.

the hallway goes still.

he turns back to you slowly. "watch it."

"no," you snap, heat rising to your face. "you watch it. i can't believe you said the things you said to him. that you—"

"what, ended it?" sae cuts in, eyes narrowed. "finally told the truth? yeah. i did."

"you told him the dream didn't matter anymore. that you don't believe in being the top striker. that it's not your path," you spit. "fine. maybe that's true. maybe people change. but you didn't have to tear him down with it."

"i didn't tear him down."

"you abandoned him, sae!"

his mouth tightens, jaw clenched. "i gave him the truth. we're not kids anymore. it's not my fault he can't let go of a fantasy."

"it wasn't a fantasy to him," you say. "it was his entire reason for chasing football. you were."

sae scoffs again, looking away like he's bored. "great. so i'm the villain for not letting him live in my shadow anymore."

"you're the villain," you say, voice sharp with disbelief, "because you knew exactly what that dream meant to rin, and you still used it against him. you knew he looked up to you, and you crushed it. and now you act like you're above it all."

"i am above it."

the words land like a slap.

you take a step back, stunned. "do you even hear yourself?"

he shrugs, cold. "yeah. do you?"

your mouth parts in shock. "you're unbelievable."

"you're overreacting."

"and you're heartless," you say, voice shaking. "you treated him like nothing. like he never mattered. and you treat me the same way."

he glares at you. "you're pissed because i didn't coddle him?"

"no," you bite. "i'm pissed because you hurt him. because you stood there and told him—told me—that you can't be what we need, and you said it like it didn't matter."

"because it doesn't," he snaps. "what difference would it make? i've never been who people want me to be. i'm not your warm boyfriend, and i'm not rin's older brother anymore. i'm just trying to be the best at what i do, and if you and him can't handle that, then—"

"then what?" you interrupt, voice loud and furious now. "we get left behind? we get discarded?"

his eyes flash. "don't twist this."

"i'm not twisting anything! you said it yourself. you gave up on him. on the dream. on me. and you don't even care that you did it."

he's breathing heavier now, fists clenched. "you don't know what i care about."

"then tell me," you challenge. "tell me what you care about. because from here, it looks like all you care about is yourself."

a beat of silence. he doesn't answer.

you stare at him — this boy who once made you feel seen just by standing beside you. this boy who could've had everything, and chose isolation instead.

"i used to think you were cold because you were focused," you say quietly. "now i think you're just afraid."

"of what?"

"of needing people."

his jaw ticks, but he doesn't deny it.

you take a breath. "you don't want to need rin. you don't want to need me. and that's why you pushed us both away."

he doesn't respond. just stares — angry, tight-lipped, eyes stormy with something unspoken.

"rin didn't tell me to hurt you," you finish. "he told me because he still gives a shit. because he still sees the version of you that cared."

sae turns his head away, jaw clenched.

"but if you really don't care anymore," you say, stepping back, "then maybe i don't want to know you, either."

his once stoic face darkens. 

"go be with rin, then," he spits, eyes narrowed. "sounds like he means more to you anyway."

you blink, stunned. "what?"

he laughs — low, bitter. "don't play dumb. you've been talking about him all night. what he said, how he feels, what he believes in—like he's some perfect little saint and i'm just the heartless asshole who ruined everything."

your eyes widen. "that's not what i said."

"you didn't have to." he runs a hand through his hair, sharp and angry. "you made it pretty fucking clear where your loyalty is."

"loyalty?" you echo, voice climbing. "i was loyal, sae. i've always been. even when you were distant. even when you shut me out."

"but the second rin tells you something—"

"no. don't twist this into jealousy."

"i'm not jealous," he snarls, stepping closer. "i just think it's funny. i open up to you, and it's never enough. i tell you i can't do this—can't be everything for everyone—and you run off and call my little brother for answers."

"i didn't call him. he called me."

"sure," sae scoffs. "right. and i bet he was so fucking gentle about it, wasn't he? so understanding. because that's what you want, right? someone who'll bleed for you."

"no," you snap, throat tight. "i want someone who doesn't push me away the moment things get hard. i want someone who doesn't act like love is a burden."

he flinches, barely. but his face hardens in the next breath.

"love is a distraction," he mutters.

you feel like he's punched the air out of your lungs.

"then what the hell are we doing?" you whisper.

silence.

just the sound of both your breaths, ragged and uneven.

sae looks away, jaw tight.

you're shaking — from cold, from fury, from something deeper that won't stop aching.

"you think rin matters more to me?" you say, voice trembling. "he told me the truth because he still believes in you. because he loves you. even after everything."

sae's eyes flick to yours, and for a split second, something cracks behind them.

"you both still believe in someone i'm not," he says, softer now. "someone who doesn't exist anymore."

"no," you whisper. "we believe in the person you could be. the one who used to care."

he doesn't answer.

doesn't deny it.

just stands there, fists clenched, like he wants to scream but won't let himself.

you stare at him, heart broken open, and say quietly:

"and maybe that's the saddest part of all." 

the silence stretches between you like an endless gulf.

finally, you take a breath—the kind that feels like dragging yourself out of quicksand.

"sae, i can't do this anymore. not like this. not when it feels like i'm the only one holding on."

he swallows, jaw tightening. "you think it's that easy? just walk away?"

"no," you admit. "it's not easy. not for me either."

you stand up, pacing the room slowly, voice trembling but steady. "i stayed because i loved you. because i wanted to believe you'd come back. but you keep pushing me away, ignoring everything i am."

"i'm still here," he says, voice cracking.

"are you?" you stop and look at him, searching his face. "because it doesn't feel like it. not when you're distant, when you don't fight for us. when you treat my job like it doesn't matter, like i don't matter."

he flinches at that. "i never meant to hurt you."

"but you did. over and over." you bite your lip. "i'm tired of being the one who cares more, who tries harder. it's exhausting, sae."

his shoulders slump. "so what, this is it? you're giving up?"

"i'm choosing myself," you say, voice breaking. "because if this is all i get—the silence, the coldness, the feeling of being invisible—then i'm done."

he closes his eyes, as if trying to will away the words.

just as you reach for the doorknob, sae's voice cuts through the thick silence—harsh, sharp, and laced with something like anger.

"i don't need you," he says, voice low but fierce. "you're a distraction. something that's holding me back."

you freeze, hand on the door. it's not what you expected—not the apology or begging you'd secretly hoped for. instead, it's cold dismissal.

"a distraction?" you repeat, voice trembling but steady. "after everything, that's what i am to you?"

"yeah," he spits out, eyes flashing. "i'm trying to be the best. focus on my goals. and you... you just get in the way."

you feel tears prick at your eyes—frustration, sadness, and something like anger rising all at once.

"if that's how you really feel, then maybe this is for the best," you say softly. "because i'm not going to be your distraction. i deserve to be someone's priority, sae."

he says nothing, just stares, jaw clenched.

you open the door, stepping out into the night air, heart breaking but clear.

sometimes, love isn't enough when the other person doesn't want you—not as you are, not as you deserve.

and that's when you know it's time to finally walk away.

sae sat alone on the edge of the worn couch, the weight of the room pressing down on him like a suffocating fog. the silence around him wasn't peaceful — it was loud, heavy, and unforgiving. every sound seemed to echo off the walls: the faint hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock, the distant muffled noises of the city outside. yet none of it filled the hollow ache gnawing at his chest.

he clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his palms as his mind replayed the conversation from earlier, every harsh word sharp and cutting.

"i don't need you. you're a distraction."

he hadn't meant for those words to come out so cold, so cruel. but in that moment, they felt like the only way to push the tangled mess of frustration and fear inside him out into the open. he thought pushing her away might make things easier — simpler. maybe even protect her from the version of himself that he was struggling to face.

but now, as the minutes stretched into what felt like an endless ache, sae realized just how wrong he had been.

he looked down at his hands, shaking slightly, and swallowed hard. his chest tightened with a pressure he couldn't shake. the truth was that he needed her more than he wanted to admit. more than he ever had before. but admitting that felt like losing control. it felt like exposing the parts of himself he wished he could hide.

the space beside him felt unbearably empty. she was gone — not just physically, but in that moment, it felt like she was slipping out of his life entirely. her absence carved a jagged wound in the quiet room, one he wasn't sure how to heal.

his eyes burned with the sting of regret as he recalled the look on her face: the sadness, the hurt, the flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be different. and yet, his own walls had kept her at arm's length, keeping the distance she didn't deserve.

sae wanted to call her back, to tell her everything — to confess how lost and scared he was, how much he hated the idea of losing her. but the words tangled in his throat, heavy and impossible to say. fear rooted him to the spot. fear that she wouldn't come back. fear that maybe he didn't deserve her.

the quiet swallowed him whole, and for the first time in a long while, sae felt utterly, painfully alone. all that remained was the bitter taste of what could have been — and the painful weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him like a storm with no end in sight.

two months later.

the sun filters in through the lace-curtained windows of the small café, bathing the room in warm, hazy light. the smell of coffee beans and sugar hangs in the air — familiar, comforting. it's quieter than usual for a saturday. couples talk in hushed voices, spoons clink against ceramic mugs. everything feels slow, easy.

you sit across from someone new. he's... nice. sweet, in a slightly offbeat way. maybe a little too eager, a little too loud, and you've caught him checking his reflection in the spoon more than once. but still — you're trying.

he's talking about his job. or maybe his dog. it's hard to focus. you nod politely, stir your drink even though you're not thirsty, and glance out the window, letting your mind wander.

and then the door opens.

a soft chime.

you hear it, but you don't look up at first. it's muscle memory. a habit from another life.

but your date stops mid-sentence. "whoa, that guy looks like—"

you look up.

your stomach drops.

sae.

he walks in like he doesn't know — or maybe doesn't care — that this was your café. the one you claimed together months ago, when everything was warm and easy. he's wearing that same navy jacket you used to steal, his headphones slung around his neck. his hair's a bit longer. his expression, unreadable.

he sees you almost instantly.

you freeze.

his steps falter, just for a second — like he's been punched in the chest — but then he looks away, pretends like it doesn't sting. pretends like it's not you, sitting where he used to sit, with someone else in his seat.

your heart thuds painfully.

he moves to the counter, orders without looking back. but his shoulders are tense. too still. and you know him well enough to see it — the flicker in his jaw, the way he doesn't take his hands out of his pockets.

your date leans in. "you okay?"

you blink, look down at your half-empty cup. "yeah. just... spaced out."

"you know that guy?"

you pause. "yeah. i used to."

across the room, sae turns just enough to glance at you.

and your eyes meet.

for the first time in two months.

everything stills.

memories come rushing back like a wave — laughter over shared desserts, cold hands tucked into warm ones, that look he used to give you when he thought you weren't watching.

you tear your gaze away first.

your date is still talking, something about how the coffee's too bitter. you nod again, but you can't hear any of it. not really.

because sae is behind you now. you feel it — that pull, like gravity.

a presence that tugs at you even before he speaks.

"we need to talk," comes his voice — low, sharp, just over your shoulder.

you freeze.

your date blinks up at him, confused. "uh, sorry—do you need something, man?"

sae doesn't even look at him. his eyes are on you. hard. unreadable. "now."

and before you can even process what's happening, his hand is at your elbow — not rough, but firm enough to mean no arguments. he pulls you up, ignoring the confused sputter from your date as he leads you out the front door of your café, past the windows and the tables and the ghosts of a hundred memories.

outside, the air is colder than you expected. or maybe it's just him.

you yank your arm away once you're on the sidewalk. "what the hell, sae?"

he turns on you. "you're on a date."

"and you dragged me outside in the middle of it," you snap, voice rising. "what do you want?"

"why here?" he bites. "why our café?"

you stare at him, stunned. "you're seriously upset about that?"

his jaw clenches. "it's not about the café."

"then what is it, sae?" you ask, arms crossed tight over your chest. "what are you mad about? because you're the one who said you didn't need me. you called me a distraction."

he flinches, just barely. "that's not—"

"not what you meant?" you cut in. "because it sure sounded like it at the time."

he exhales, sharp and shaky. Runs a hand through his hair like he's trying to calm the storm inside him. But his voice stays bitter, raw. "you really replaced me that fast?"

you blink, stunned. "is that what this is about? you're jealous?"

he doesn't answer.

just looks away, fists clenched in his coat pockets.

"it's been two months, sae. you made it very clear you didn't want this—didn't want me."

"i never said i didn't want you," he mutters.

you laugh, bitter. "you didn't have to. you said i was a distraction. said you didn't need me. what was i supposed to do? wait around forever while you pushed me away and buried everything that mattered?"

he doesn't meet your eyes. doesn't move.

"that guy inside?" you add, voice quieter now. "he's not you. he never will be. and you know what? i haven't even kissed him. i don't want to. but at least he wants me there. he shows up."

finally, sae looks at you. really looks — and the emotion in his eyes is a mess of guilt, regret, and something that hurts worse than anger: want.

he swallows hard. "i was scared," he admits, barely audible. "of losing focus. of not being enough. for the game. for you."

"and so you pushed me away," you whisper.

he nods once, like it costs him.

"then why are you here?" you ask. "why now?"

his voice cracks when he answers. "because seeing you with someone else hurt like hell. and i know i don't deserve to say this, but... i still want you."

your chest aches. god, you hate how much those words still sting, still reach you.

but you shake your head, biting your lip. "wanting me when you see me with someone else isn't love, sae. it's ego."

his breath catches.

you take a step back.

"if you want me," you say, voice trembling, "you have to show it. not just when you're jealous. not just when it's too late."

you glance at the café behind you. at the window where your date still sits, staring in confusion.

"and i don't know if i can trust you to do that anymore."

you turn—half expecting him to let you walk away, again. but he doesn't.

"you're just going to give up on me?" sae's voice cuts through the cold air. "after everything?"

you whip back around. "you gave up first."

his jaw tightens. "i had reasons."

"no, you had excuses." you spit. "you didn't even try to explain yourself until you saw me with someone else."

he steps forward. "i didn't know how."

you laugh bitterly. "and you still don't. do you even realize how much it hurt? watching you shut down, close off, like i didn't matter—like we didn't matter?"

he doesn't say anything. just stands there, silent in the face of your anger, like he thinks if he stays still long enough, it'll pass.

you don't let it.

"i waited for you to reach out," you go on. "i kept hoping maybe—maybe—you'd come to your senses, but you just disappeared. like i was nothing."

his eyes flicker. "you weren't nothing."

"then why did you treat me like it?" your voice cracks. "why did you throw everything away without even talking to me?"

he looks down at the ground, fists clenched in his pockets.

"say something," you demand.

"because i didn't think you'd understand," he snaps, finally looking up. "you think it's easy, being me? being expected to carry the weight of everything—japan, madrid, football, my brother, you?"

you flinch. "so i'm a burden now?"

"that's not what i meant."

"then what did you mean?" you fire back. "that loving me made things harder for you? that caring about someone makes you weak?"

he exhales, sharp. "it made me feel. and i can't afford that. not right now."

"but you can afford to walk in here and act like i belong to you the moment someone else is sitting across from me?"

he glares at you, wounded pride flashing in his eyes. "that's not what this is about."

"really? because it looks like it's exactly what this is about," you say, voice rising. "you didn't care until you saw someone else where you used to be."

his lips part like he wants to argue, but no sound comes out.

you step closer. "you think you're the only one who's scared? who's under pressure? you chose to shut me out. you told me you didn't need me. and now you expect me to just forget all of it because you're hurting?"

he breathes out, slow and shaky. "i didn't mean to hurt you."

"but you did."

you both fall silent. the wind picks up. a few brown leaves tumble across the pavement, caught between your feet.

"you want me to fight for you," he says quietly. "but you're already halfway out the door."

your eyes narrow. "i was halfway out the door. months ago. and you just stood there. now you want to act like i owe you another chance?"

"you don't owe me anything," he mutters, voice tight. "but i still want one."

you stare at him. at the familiar curve of his brow, the slope of his shoulders, the storm in his eyes. he looks different than he did two months ago. thinner. tired. but the ache in your chest tells you it's still him. still the person who held your hand under café tables and kissed your forehead like a promise. still the person who walked away.

"you can't just show up and ask for me back like i'm something you left at home," you whisper. "i'm not a possession, sae."

"i know." he breathes out. "i know."

you blink, and your voice softens—just barely. "so what do you want from me?"

he shakes his head. "i don't know. i just... i saw you. and everything i've been holding down since you left hit me all at once. and i hated that you looked okay. like you'd moved on."

your throat tightens. "i'm trying to move on. because i had to. because you didn't give me a choice."

his voice is lower now. hoarse. "i miss you."

you close your eyes. for a second, the wind is the only sound between you.

"then maybe you should've missed me sooner." 

you don't mean for your voice to shake. you don't mean for your heart to splinter open again, like it hasn't already been broken and rearranged by him a hundred times.

but the words leave your lips like a final blow, and as soon as they do, something inside you cracks.

you take a shaky breath, then another—and then you crumble.

it starts with a small, helpless sob. one that catches in your throat and spills past your lips before you can stop it. then another. and then you're crying—ugly, gasping, heartbreaking sobs that curl you forward like you're trying to fold in on yourself. like if you make yourself small enough, the pain might go away.

sae's eyes widen. "hey—hey," he says, stepping forward instinctively. "don't—come here—"

but you shake your head, shoulders trembling. "no—don't—i can't—"

"you don't have to say anything," he says quickly, arms wrapping around you without waiting for permission. "just... let me hold you."

and you do.

because even now, even after everything, your body still remembers what it's like to be safe in his arms. still leans into the shape of him like it's something you've missed more than you'll ever admit.

you bury your face in his chest, sobs muffled by the fabric of his coat. your hands fist into it like you want to push him away—but you don't. you can't.

"i hate this," you cry, voice raw and muffled. "i hate that you still feel like home."

he holds you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other steady at your waist. "i know," he murmurs. "i know. i'm sorry."

"you left me," you whisper. "you hurt me."

his voice is choked. "i know."

you pull back just enough to look at him, eyes red and glassy. "i hate that i still love you."

he flinches—like the words wound him. like hearing them aloud is worse than silence.

"i don't want to," you add. "but i do."

he swallows hard. "then let me be better. let me fix what i broke."

your lip trembles. "i don't know if you can."

he nods, once. "then i'll try. for as long as it takes."

you search his face for a lie, for a crack in the words—but it's just him. sae. stripped down and vulnerable and maybe, just maybe, starting to feel again.

you don't say yes. you don't say no.

you just stay there—pressed against him in the cold, the wind still howling through the streets—while he holds you like he's afraid to let go again.

and for now, that's enough.