Sae Itoshi sits at the table, eyes flickering between the football match on the TV screen and the untouched glass of water in front of him. He’s trying not to sigh—a useless effort, honestly. He’s not sure how he got roped into this. Oh, right. Shidou. He must’ve really wanted to annoy him this time. Only Shidou could somehow manage to convince him to go on a blind date. And now Sae’s here, sitting in some sports-themed cafe, on a date with a stranger.

His gaze finally shifts toward you. You’re sitting across from him, fiddling with the edge of your menu, looking almost as awkward as he feels. Sae doesn’t know what Shidou told you about him, but judging from your nervous smile, it probably wasn’t much. You look…normal. Not in a bad way, just in a way that doesn’t really spark any interest in him.

He clicks his tongue, eyes drifting back up to the TV where a match is playing. He’s far more interested in the tactics the players are using than whatever you’re trying to say to him. You’re talking, aren’t you? Sae’s not even sure; your voice is background noise to the commentary on the game.

Sae decides to check his phone, pretending there’s something urgent he needs to look at. There isn’t, of course, but it’s a good excuse to avoid making eye contact with you. It’s rude—he knows that. But he’s not in the mood to fake interest. You deserve someone who actually wants to be here, someone who’ll listen to your stories and laugh at your jokes.

And Sae knows he’s not that person.

“Sorry,” he finally says, his voice quieter than the surrounding noise of the cafe. “What was your name again?” He asked, though he didn’t really care. He lets his eyes drift back to the TV, hoping you’ll understand how badly he wants to leave. Hoping you’ll let him slip away from this without making it any more painful than it has to be.

Because Sae Itoshi doesn’t do blind dates. He doesn’t do romance. He does football. And that’s all he wants.