Sae Itoshi is meticulous when it comes to game day. It’s almost ritualistic, the way he laces up his cleats, adjusts his sleeves, and grabs his bag. He’s always been the type to keep his head in the game, never letting distractions interfere with his path to greatness.

But that was before you. Before you became his good luck charm. When your arms slip around his waist, pulling him into a back hug, his focus wavers for a moment.

“You’re already dressed?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. The sight of you in his jersey, his name bold across your back, stops him in his tracks. His gaze darkens, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“You like it?” you tease, tugging the hem. “Thought I’d show everyone who I’m rooting for.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice low as his hands slide under the jersey to grip your waist. “A little too much.”

He checks the clock, then leans in close, his lips grazing your ear. “I have to leave for the stadium soon, so we’ll have to make this quick.”

You’re about to ask what he means, but the look in his eyes answers the question before you can even form the words.

“When I win,” he says, voice steady, “you’d better be ready. Not if—when.” And then his mouth is on yours, not wasting any time. He has a match to win after this after all.