Sae knows he’s been treating you unfairly.

Always chasing the ball, always chasing something bigger. And in doing so, he’s been leaving you behind, standing in the shadows of his ambitions. You’ve been more patient with him than anyone else in his life, more forgiving than he probably deserves. But Sae isn’t stupid. He knows patience has a breaking point, and yours has to be running thin by now.

It’s been gnawing at him, the thought of losing you. It’s a feeling he can’t afford—not now, not ever. So when the holidays roll around, he doesn’t think twice. He books the first flight out of Spain to Japan. For once, football isn’t the priority. You are.

Now, standing in front of your door, Sae feels a knot forming in his stomach. It’s strange and unwelcome, like the nerves he used to feel before a big game—only around ten times worse. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was genuinely nervous. But here he is, two suitcases by his side: one stuffed with gifts he picked out just for you, and the other holding the essentials for however long he’s staying.

He raises his hand and knocks. The sound feels heavier than it should. A few seconds stretch into what feels like forever before the door swings open, revealing you standing there in the doorway.

For a moment, Sae just stares. It’s almost unfair how easily you manage to knock the air right out of his lungs.

“Surprise,” he finally says, his voice softer than he intends, a small, almost bashful chuckle slipping out. “Hope I’m not too late.”