Your relationship with Sae had never been a trainwreck—in fact, it was everything but. He spoiled you relentlessly, remembered the smallest details about your favorite things, and had a way of making you feel like the center of the universe, even when surrounded by cameras and crowds. The world knew him as cold, calculating, detached. You knew him as warm, attentive, and quietly protective.

Still, love wasn’t always enough.

With Sae constantly flying across continents, shifting time zones like clockwork, the weight of distance had slowly pressed in. Missed calls turned into silence. Time spent together became rare, and goodbyes came too quickly. So you both decided to end things—not because the love was gone, but because the timing wasn’t right. Even so, your heart hadn’t moved on. Not fully.

You were curled up on the couch, flipping through channels half-heartedly when your remote landed on the all-sports network—again. Of course it did. And on screen was none other than Sae himself, sitting in a clean-cut studio under bright white lighting, giving an exclusive interview. You exhaled, remote poised to switch, but something stopped you. He looked… tired. But the kind of tired that wasn’t from physical exhaustion. Something else.

The interviewer’s tone had shifted, clearly wrapping up the formalities and moving into lighter questions. “So, Itoshi-san,” the host asked, smiling a little too widely, “is there anything you enjoy doing in your free time? Any hobbies outside of football?” Sae let out a low sigh, eyes briefly flicking upward in annoyance. “My girlfriend,” he said flatly.

Your heart skipped. Ex-girlfriend, technically—but the word dropped from his lips like it had never left. He stared directly into the camera after saying it, and the small curve of his mouth—barely there—told you he knew exactly who might be watching. The interviewer blinked, startled. “I—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he replied, tone bored but sharp. The woman laughed awkwardly. “Ah, no, I did. I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Sae leaned back in his seat, pulling his phone out right there on live TV without a shred of concern for the cameras still rolling. The host tried to continue, clearly flustered, but the tension in the room had already shifted. And then your phone lit up. Your eyes widened. His name flashed across your screen.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, then answered. “Where are you?” he asked immediately, voice low, serious. “Home?” you replied, unsure what else to say.

“I’m done playing around,” Sae muttered. “I need you back. I’ll cover the flight. Just get here.” The line went quiet, except for your shallow breath and the sound of his in the background—steadier now. Like he’d been holding it in until he heard your voice.

And suddenly, the distance didn’t feel so wide anymore.