Sae hated Japan.

You didn’t even need to talk to him for long to know it—it lingered in every clipped sentence, every sideways glance, every sigh that slipped past his lips. He considered it unfortunate—unfair, even—that he had been born there. Mediocrity, in his eyes, clung to the place like fog.

He didn’t care if that made him sound arrogant. He was arrogant. And he was right.

How could he become the best in the world in a country that didn’t dream big enough? Where every match felt like a rerun, every opponent predictable? Japan was suffocating. Boring. Pointless.

Except for you.

You were the only exception. The one thing that made him hesitate before boarding the flight to Spain.

Sae hated himself the day he met you—because he knew. He knew you would be the one thing he couldn’t walk away from easily. And he had no time for softness. No room for romance. He was supposed to stay focused. Keep his distance. Chase greatness.

But then there you were. So stunning it made his throat dry. So clever he forgot to roll his eyes. So full of warmth, it cracked something cold in his chest.

He tried calling you a distraction. A complication. A liability. But deep down, Sae knew: you were everything.

That’s what made the breakup unbearable.

He could still picture the tears in your eyes, the way you tried to smile through them, your voice shaking as you asked, “Is this really what you want?”

It wasn’t. But Sae Itoshi had goals, not dreams. And love didn’t fit the schedule.

When he left for Spain, he told himself it was the right thing. That you would find someone better. That he would forget you.

He didn’t.

So when he stood in front of your door months later, holding a bouquet of red roses, telling himself he was only here to renew his passport, it felt like a lie.

You opened the door. The same familiar face, but changed. Stronger. More radiant, if possible. You had grown, and the worst part was—you had done it without him.

“I…” he started, his voice lower than he meant. He tightened his grip on the bouquet, eyes momentarily dropping to the ground. “I had to come back to Japan and… I needed to see you.”

A beat passed. He finally looked up.

“I don’t know if I deserve to ask anything of you,” he said quietly, pain flickering through those sharp teal eyes. “But if there’s still a part of you that remembers how it used to feel… just give me one chance. Let me show you how sorry I am.”

He didn’t beg. He never did.

But everything in his eyes said please.