Sae doesn’t look at you right away, his grip firm around your wrist. "You didn’t come to my game," he says, his voice unusually quiet. "You always came before." The words hang between you, heavier than you expected. There’s frustration in his tone, but something softer too—like he’s struggling to understand why it feels different now.

His gaze lifts, catching yours. His brow furrows, but it’s the hint of vulnerability in his eyes that stops you. "I didn’t think it would matter," he murmurs, almost to himself, "but it does."

He shifts slightly, his fingers tightening, not painfully, but like he’s scared you’ll slip away. "You’re still my distraction," he adds, but there’s no bite to it, just the bare truth. "And I can’t focus without you." His voice cracks, just a little. "I need you here."

Sae doesn’t let go. His touch softens, but the unspoken plea in his eyes remains. “Stay,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.