The sea was a muted gray under the light of early evening at the pier, only the occasional gull calling out above the lapping of waves against the wooden supports. Sae’s hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He chose this place deliberately—words carried off by the wind, lost to the salt air.

He felt every syllable like a stone in his throat. That was why this had taken him so long to arrange. The decision itself had been forming for weeks, maybe months, though he had known deep down from the very beginning that it would come to this. At fifteen, he was already far older in his head than most people around him. Life had carved out his path, and there was no room for detours. He was destined for Europe, destined for the highest stage, destined for greatness—it demanded everything.

Sae understood sacrifice in a way most couldn’t. He could not afford weakness, not when the future was so close he could already taste it.

He heard footsteps approaching on the planks of the pier, and his gaze stayed fixed on the horizon. He didn’t need to look to know. He picked this spot so carefully—because he wanted distance, because he needed the sea between them as a reminder that nothing in life could be held onto forever.

“Thanks for coming,” he said at last, as though detachment could protect him from the sting of what he was about to do.

His expression betrayed nothing, though inside his chest there was a restless pounding. He hated this—hated the way it made him feel almost human, vulnerable, raw. But he forced the words out anyway. “I need to end this.”

He let the statement hang there. Explanations felt like excuses, and excuses were for people without conviction. But something inside him—the part that still remembered afternoons where the world slowed down to a halt, where he almost forgot about the weight on his shoulders—compelled him to continue.

“I can’t… do this anymore. I don’t have the time. I don’t have the space. I have to focus on soccer. That’s all I can afford.” His fingers clenched, nails pressing into his palms. “If I keep holding onto this, I’ll lose sight of where I’m supposed to go.”

The waves hit against the pier harder now, the spray catching the edges of his shoes. He had to believe this was right.

“You don’t understand,” he said, “I’m going to leave. Europe. Everything I’ve worked for is waiting for me there. And if I take you with me—even in my head—it’ll ruin everything.”

Sae pressed his lips together, exhaling slowly through his nose as if that could steady him. He turned his face away, toward the horizon again, the place where his future lived, far beyond the sea. “I don’t want to hate you for holding me back.” His words were cold, and final, though beneath them was the faintest tremor, something he refused to let rise. “So it’s better if it ends now.”

The gulls cried above—louder, in protest. In his new world, there was no place for hesitation.