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Itoshi Sae did not concern himself with foolishness.
He was pragmatic, even as a child. He only had interest in himself and, occasionally, his baby brother Rin.
Therefore, Itoshi Sae did not concern himself with soulmates.
Sae’s mind was occupied with bigger things. By twelve, he was the best Japanese football player in his age group. By fourteen, he had been scouted to play for a top youth league in Spain. By seventeen, he was named one of the New Generation XI and invited to an exclusive training camp. He knew he was going to be the best in the world, one way or another. It doesn’t matter what dreams - or people - he had to discard to get there.
Sometimes, though, when Sae was alone in bed at night, so far away from home and so achingly lonely, he let himself be foolish. He let his finger trace over the soulmate mark on his chest, three words scrawled in nearly illegible handwriting.
His soulmate was probably stupid anyway. Who’s first words to someone they had just met were so arrogant?
Waiting for me?
Still, in those quiet hours of the night, he let himself dream.
There was a banquet the evening before the training camp. Ostensibly, it was to celebrate the participants. In reality, it was designed to give sponsors the chance to throw themselves at the players in hopes of scoring a brand deal.
What a fucking waste of his time.
Sae itched to leave even before the banquet had officially begun, but the look his manager shot at him every time he fidgeted kept him glued to his seat. Still, he glared at the empty chair across from him. Out of the eleven of them, this one asshole was conspicuously absent, delaying the whole event.
“Michael Kaiser,” the man next to him, a gangly defender named Lorenzo, said. “Stupid fucker is always late to everything. Thinks he’s too good for the rest of us.”
“Lorenzo, don’t be rude,” the player on Lorenzo’s other side chided. “I’m sure he’s got a good explanation for being late.”
Sae had never met Michael Kaiser, but he’d certainly heard of him. ‘God’s chosen emperor,’ they called him. Sae could have laughed. He was dominant on the field, with lightning fast reflexes, a strong game sense, and his so-called ‘Kaiser Impact.’ But, if the rumors were to be believed, his personality was absolutely intolerable.
Sae didn’t like strikers on principle, and Michael Kaiser seemed like the worst of the worst. And here he was, being a nuisance in Sae’s life before they had even met.
“He needs to hurry the fuck up,” Sae muttered, breaking the silence. “He’s wasting my fucking time.”
As the words left his mouth, he saw the rest of the table perk up at something behind him. Sae turned his head to look at the source of the commotion.
“Waiting for me?”
Sae froze, eyes going wide.
At that moment, Sae made one earth-shattering realization and one incredibly reasonable decision.
His realization? He absolutely despised his soulmate.
His decision? He wouldn’t say a word to Kaiser for the rest of the training camp, and maybe not for the rest of their lives.
Kaiser, unfortunately, picked up on Sae’s animosity very quickly.
“Hey, Itoshi, you good? Going for a run?”
Sae pointedly ignored him, focusing on tying his shoelaces. Practice had ended for the evening and he was planning on doing a light jog around the compound to cool down. By himself. In peace.
“Mind if I join you?”
Yes, Sae minded. But he couldn’t say as much, so he settled for shooting Kaiser a withering glare. If looks could kill, that one should have done the job. Unfortunately, Kaiser was either immortal or very, very, stupid, and followed Sae out onto the walk path undeterred.
“I heard about you, you know,” he started, cheerful. “They said you’re good, but shit, you’re incredible, aren’t you? Game tapes don’t do you justice. You’re the smartest midfielder I’ve ever played with.” Sae grit his teeth and sped up, edging forward so they were no longer side by side. Kaiser picked up his pace to meet him.
“Your passes are incredible, it’s like you’re reading my mind. Like I’m lined up at the goal and I want the ball and boom! It’s there.”
Sae sped up again, now verging on a full out run. Again, Kaiser caught up with him easily. Stupid bastard didn’t know how to take the hint. Stupid bastard with his stupid long legs who wasn’t even breaking a fucking sweat at this speed. Sae could already feel his lungs beginning to burn.
Sae slowed his pace, allowing himself to drop back. If he couldn’t outrun Kaiser, he’d simply set a pace so intolerable that he had no choice but to leave Sae alone.
Kaiser didn’t take the hint. Instead, he took the opportunity to cut in front of Sae, turning around so he was jogging backwards and they were facing each other.
“Seriously Itoshi, what did I do? You send me these incredible passes but then as soon as we get off the field it’s like you won’t even talk to me.”
Sae focused on a spot behind Kaiser’s shoulder, staunchly ignoring him.
“I like playing with you, dude, but I can’t if you’re going to be an asshole about it.”
Then don't, Sae wanted to say. But instead, he noticed how in his admittedly impressive feat of jogging backwards for the past few hundred yards, Kaiser had slowly but surely veered to the right, so that a few more steps and he would -
“Hey idiot, watch out!”
The words were out of Sae’s mouth before he even realized what he was saying.
After that, three things happened.
One, Kaser tripped over his own feet as he came to a sudden stop, ending up in a pile on the pavement.
Two, he turned his head and saw himself inches from colliding with a massive tree.
Three, he turned back around to face Sae, eyes wide.
Sae could practically see the lightbulb going off in Kaiser’s eyes. Unfortunately he knew what that meant.
“You -”
Sae didn’t bother sticking around to hear the rest of his sentence. He took off in a full sprint back to their training compound.
It was stupid, he knew. He was going to see Kaiser tomorrow, and the day after that, and for the rest of his life, if he wanted to keep playing football. But for now, the one thought in his mind was to get out as fast as possible. How embarrassing - a fight or flight response, and his body instinctively chose flight.
And of course, Sae was naive in thinking he could truly outrun Kaiser. He might have the stamina for it, but Kaiser quickly made up the difference in speed. By the time Sae was back at the entrance of the complex, Kaiser had caught up to him.
“Sae, please let’s talk,” Kaiser called, snagging his wrist like some sort of K-Drama lead.
Sae stared at him, jaw set in place.
“You can talk now, you know. I know you’re my soulmate. You don’t have to keep on giving me the silent treatment.”
The world was quiet around them, save for the chirping of crickets and the buzz of the street light overhead.
“Sae, this is perfect for us. I don’t understand why you’re being like this.”
“I should’ve let you fucking die.”
“I wouldn’t’ve died. Probably would’ve hurt like a bitch though,” Kaiser said, sheepishly rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, by the way. I appreciate it.”
“You’re not welcome.”
“You’re my soulmate. You’re supposed to love me. Why are you being like this?”
And Kaiser sounded so pathetically genuine in that very moment that Sae almost cracked.
“Play me 1v1. First to three. If you win, I’ll tell you.”
“Okay.”
At the end of the day, the two of them still shared the common language of football.
Maybe it was the residual shock addling Kaiser’s mind, or maybe it was the fear and anger and frustration fueling Sae’s body, or maybe, just maybe, knowing Sae was his soulmate made Kaiser a little soft, but somehow Sae outscored him 3-2.
When Sae walked over to where he was standing on the pitch, he looked down at Sae with those stupid wide blue eyes and somehow, for some stupid reason, he looked happy.
It pissed Sae off.
“Listen,” he hissed, grabbing Kaiser by his hair and yanking him down so that they were at eye level. “I’m never going to fucking accept you as my soulmate. I fucking hate guys like you. Looking at you makes me want to fucking die.”
“You’re beautiful like this, Sae.”
Sae pushed him so he stumbled back, falling onto the ground. “I’m not anybody’s fucking soulmate, okay? You and I are nothing to each other.”
“I just need a chance. We’re soulmates, we’re meant to be. Why won’t you give me a chance? Why are you fighting it?”
“I told you, I hate guys like you. You’ve never had to give up anything in your fucking life. You take and take and take from everyone else, and you make it all about yourself. You disgust me.”
Kaiser remained on the ground, looking at Sae like he had hung the stars in the sky. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I promise. You’ll come back for me.”
Sae turned around and walked away.
He didn’t speak to Michael Kaiser for the rest of the training camp.
Officially, Sae attended the PXG versus Bastard Munchen match as a representative from his U-20 team in a show of support for the Blue Lock TV reality show. If anyone asked, he would say he attended to see the blossoming of Isagi Yoichi, the standout star of the Blue Lock project. If pressed, he might begrudgingly admit he had come to watch his brother.
All that to say, Sae was definitely not there for Michael Kaiser.
They hadn’t spoken in almost a year, and Sae was perfectly content keeping it that way. He didn’t hate the idea of Kaiser as his soulmate, not the way he did when he was seventeen. He simply accepted that the universe had been wrong this one time, about this one person, and he needed to let go.
He no longer allowed himself to touch the faded script over his chest and fantasize about what it would feel like to be loved.
When Kaiser scored the first goal of the game, Sae averted his eyes.
When Rin and Kaiser hit each other in a nasty collision resulting in a yellow card for Rin and Kaiser in a heap on the ground, Sae chalked up his raised heart rate to concern for his brother.
When Isagi and Kaiser fought each other on the field, weaving in and out of defenders and stealing the ball away from each other until Isagi scored the deciding goal of the match in a final act of dominance, Sae was transfixed.
Transfixed on seeing the Blue Lock project finally come to fruition, he told himself.
If Sae lingered in in his VIP seats by the field long after the match ended, it was just because he was waiting for his manager to bring the car around instead of calling an Uber. Still, he wasn’t surprised when someone approached his seat.
“Sae, you came.”
“I didn’t come for you.”
“I know.” Kaiser didn’t sound upset. “I’m still glad you came, though.”
There was a pause before Kaiser started again. “I’d still love to play with you again one day. If you give me the chance.”
Sae didn’t bother dignifying him with a response.
Kaiser didn’t press him further, just shrugged and adjusted the duffle bag over his shoulder. “You’ll come around eventually.”
Kaiser’s insistence that Sae would eventually bend to the whims of fate pissed him off.
“Yeah, right. Make me, fucker.”
The week after Sae turned 20, he participated in his final interview as a member of the New Generation XI. It was meant to be a lighthearted look back on their time in the U-20 leagues as the eleven of them began to sign on to professional teams. Unfortunately for Sae, a ‘lighthearted’ interview simply meant that he would be inundated with inane questions for an hour and a half.
Inane questions like this, from a pretty-faced male reporter with light pink hair.
“Mr. Itoshi, if it was your last day on earth, what would you do?”
“My last day on earth?” Sae pretended to consider. Stupid hypotheticals never interested him, but if his manager told him to play up his dry charm to appease his audience and earn better sponsorships, that’s what he would do. “My last day on earth I would want to make the world’s best pass to the world’s best striker.”
There was soft laughter from the camera crew. “As expected of Mr. Itoshi,” the reporter said. “It’s always about football.”
Sae gave him a tight-lipped smile.
“I guess that means I need to hurry up and become the world’s best striker then,” Kaiser interrupted, leaning into his microphone. “If I ever want to get a pass from our Sae.”
More laughter, this time from both the crew and a few other members of the New Generation XI. Sae could feel Kaiser’s eyes on him, but he refused to acknowledge them. He prayed that the flush in his face would be covered by his foundation.
“Mr. Kaiser,” he started, turning his attention to the other. “When will we have the pleasure of seeing the two of you play together? Nearly three years as the New Generation XI and we’ve never gotten the chance to see your chemistry.”
This time, Sae interrupted. “I’m sure we will meet on the field as rivals many times in the future.”
“Awe, not as rivals, Sae-chan,” Kaiser said, the Japanese diminutive falling awkwardly off his tongue. “The world wants to see us play together.”
The reporter murmured in agreement, looking at Sae.
“Well, you’ll have to ask my manager.” Sae’s tone left no room for discussion.
“Last question, Mr. Itoshi,” the reporter started, and Sae felt it in his bones that this question was going to piss him off. “A million lovestruck fans are wondering right now, have you met your soulmate?”
It was usually considered unprofessional to ask about soulmates. Of course, being young, successful, and moderately attractive seemed to make people forget basic etiquette.
“I don’t have a soulmate.” Sae said, his words coming out sharper than he had intended. “Sorry for the letdown.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment. “Well, thank you for sharing that, Mr. Itoshi. We’ll move on to Mr. Kaiser next.”
The reporter looked appropriately abashed at Sae’s response. There were plenty of people who didn’t have soulmates: people whose soulmates had passed before they had gotten the chance to meet, people who had platonic soulmates, and even people born without soulmates at all. It wasn’t a bad thing, but in their soulmate-centric world it could be awkward to discuss. If the reporter chose to publish his answer to that question, there would be legions of fans questioning his journalistic integrity and campaigning for him to be fired for his insensitivity. Sae felt a touch of guilt for misleading them.
By the time Sae turned back to the conversation, the reporter was almost done with Kaiser, seemingly having skipped the soulmate question entirely.
“Hold on,” Kaiser interrupted before the interview moved to Lorenzo. “You never asked me about my soulmate.”
Ah, Sae should’ve known better than to expect Kaiser to pass up an opportunity like this.
The interviewer perked up. “Well, Mr. Kaiser, what can you tell us about your soulmate?”
Kaiser turned slightly to face the camera, looking directly into the lens. “I’ve met my soulmate. I love him and I wouldn’t change him for the world.”
The interviewer was practically vibrating with excitement. Sae could all but see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes as he saw his front-page sports story unfold in front of him. “You’ll have to tell us more, Mr. Kaiser.`
Kaiser shrugged. “Maybe some other time.”
Sae was fuming.
“What the fuck was that?” he hissed at Kaiser, cornering him after the interview. “What is your game?”
“I don't know what you’re talking about.” Kaiser was the absolute picture of innocence, head cocked to the side and expression bemused. “I do want you to pass to me. People want to see us play together. Good game, good press, good sponsors. You know that.”
“I’m not talking about that.”
“Then I don’t know what you’re trying to say. I didn’t lie, did I?” Kaiser’s words were pointed, seemingly calling out Sae’s lie to the reporter.
Sae didn’t care. In fact, he hoped Kaiser’s stupid feelings had gotten hurt at Sae’s very public dismissal of their relationship. It wasn’t like anyone other than the two of them knew, and Sae wanted it to stay that way.
As far as Sae was concerned, the two of them were tied together with nothing but the weight of this secret.
“Neither did I, Kaiser. I told you, right? You’re nothing to me.”
“Then what I said shouldn’t matter, right? I won’t tell anyone it’s you. I told him I met my soulmate so people would stop coming up to me on the street and harassing me about it. Easy as that. I know you don’t want this, Sae. I’ve accepted that. But I can’t just stop living my life because you don’t want to be a part of it. ”
For some reason, Sae couldn’t quite accept that. But he left, turning Kaiser’s words over in his head.
The Japanese National Football team, led by captain Oliver Aiku, ace striker Isagi Yoichi, and world renowned midfielder Itoshi Sae, qualified for the 2022 World Cup. Sae wasn’t surprised, exactly. He wouldn’t have chosen to sign for the team if he hadn’t thought it capable of winning it all. But still, Sae felt excitement thrumming in his veins. He had played in the U-20 World Cup when he was 18, but this was, quite literally, a whole new level.
Sae spent the whole week before the start of the championship watching old game tapes of their opponents, scrutinizing their every move. He was an analyst on the field, but his skill was backed up by hours and hours of sitting in front of his computer, notepad in his lap, as he examined footage practically frame by frame.
It was nearly midnight, two days before they were scheduled to leave, when Sae finally loaded up the Germany versus Spain match from a few weeks ago. He hadn’t been avoiding it, he told himself. He was just making the decision to deprioritize it. The specific players involved in the game had no influence on his choice.
If Sae was honest with himself (which he, admittedly, rarely was) he was entranced from the moment he pressed play. Watching Kaiser was exhilarating. Sae got so swept away by him that on multiple occasions he forgot about his notes entirely, catching himself leaning in to get a better view of the screen.
Instead of being a perfect striker, constantly being fed balls so he could score, Kaiser played the game almost like it was a partnered dance. To him, it was a give and take, a push and pull. He was perfect, almost heartbreakingly, in sync with the rest of the field, teammates and opponents alike.
Sae fell asleep at his desk that night, hunched over his pages and pages of scribbled notes on Michael Kaiser. He dreamed about soulmate marks and blue eyes. When he woke up, groggy and disoriented, his hand was pressed directly over his chest where Kaiser’s first words to him were written.
All the players had been put up in the same hotel for the duration of the tournament. Sae thought it was a waste of the International Football League’s money.
Sae should’ve been more concerned about ending up in a situation like the one he now found himself in: the elevator he had called to ride up to his 44th floor room, empty except for Michael Kaiser.
They stared at each other for a moment before Kaiser reached an arm out to prevent the automatic door from closing.
“I, I’ll just take the next one.” Sae stuttered.
“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind,” Kaiser’s response was rushed, his tongue tripping over the words.
They both paused for a moment, the silence eventually broken by the elevator beeping angrily at being held open for so long.
“Either in or out, Sae, you gotta pick.”
Sae huffed out an annoyed breath and stepped into the elevator.
“Who are you playing tomorrow?” Kaiser’s voice was uncharacteristically muted.
“England. You?”
“Serbia. You better fucking win, hear? You can’t lose to the English of all people.”
Sae let out a half laugh. “You too. It would be embarrassing for me if you lost so early on...”
Because you’re my soulmate hung heavy on his lips.
“... because of all our New Generation XI hype.”
“The hype, yeah.”
Sae was considering the merits of hitting the door open button and just taking the stairs the rest of the way up, game tomorrow be damned, when the elevator made the choice for him. With an awful, nightmarish creak, it lurched to a stop somewhere between the 10th and 11th floors.
“What the fuck?” Kaiser said, “What’s going on?”
“What does it look like, idiot?” Sae pressed the emergency call button. “The elevator stopped.”
A crackling voice came over the speaker. “ We deeply apologize for the inconvenience. We’re having a team sent over immediately.”
“How immediately?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “We’re currently estimating around a 20-minute wait time. Again, sincere apologies for the inconvenience, sir.”
Sae frowned. Twenty minutes in a five foot by five foot box with Kaiser? That sounded like it came straight out of Sae’s nightmares.
When he turned, Kaiser was already sitting cross legged on the ground, back against the wall.
“Seems like we’ll be here for a while, huh?” He patted the space next to him as if inviting Sae to sit.
Sae, against his better judgment, sat.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Sae looked at Kaiser. Maybe it was exhaustion built up from the past few days of travel. Maybe Kaiser had successfully worn him down over the course of the past five years. Maybe Sae was just fucking tired of saying no to his most base desire for companionship.
Whatever it was, one tiny part of Sae’s resolve to reject his soulmate fractured at that moment. There would be no going back.
“Okay.”
“Do you still hate me?”
“You wanted to ask me that?” And suddenly, Sae couldn’t contain the ridiculousness of the moment. The two of them, so-called soulmates who had barely spoken in the five years since they met, together in an enclosed space for an extended period of time and forced to talk about their feelings. It was like a scene straight out of a shitty fanfiction.
And, for the first time around Michael Kaiser, Sae laughed. It was a high, nasally laugh - more of a giggle, really - but it turned up the corners of his eyes and put a genuine smile on his face.
A flush spread across Kaiser’s cheeks. “Shit, Sae. You’re cute when you smile.”
Sae’s expression sobered almost immediately. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t think I ever will.”
Sae rolled his eyes. “To answer your question, no. I don’t hate you.”
Kaiser immediately brightened.
“I’m not seventeen anymore.” Sae paused, considering. “You know, even then I don’t think I really hated you. I was just bitter, and you were annoying. You acted like the world revolved around you and I thought it was stupid.”
“Yeah? And what makes you say that?”
Sae turned away, picking at the chipped nail polish on his ring finger. “You know I used to be a striker?”
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t.”
“When I was scouted for the training league in Spain I was a striker. Turns out, there’s a million other genius fourteen year old strikers out in the world.” Sae sighed, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Put into perspective just how shit I was. You know?”
Kaiser opened his mouth, but Sae cut him off. “Why am I even asking? You wouldn’t know.”
Kaiser didn’t object.
“Anyway, I guess it was just a big wake up call. It sucked. After like a year I was ready to quit and go home, but when I thought about going home I thought about my little brother.”
“Rin.”
“Yeah, Rin.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“He’s my brother.”
“Runs in the family, huh.”
“Me and him had a pact growing up that we were going to be the best strikers in the world, and when I went to train in Spain I was stupid enough to really believe that could be true. And then I got the call from Coach asking me to come to his office, and I knew that meant I’m being dismissed. I’m not good enough.” Sae’s breathing was quick and ragged between his words, old emotions bubbling to the surface. “He sat me down and he told me that he wants me as a midfielder.”
Sae paused.
“I didn’t exactly have a choice, it was either say yes or give up on football altogether. And looking back, I guess I’m glad. I like being a midfielder. But at the time it was like I had just given up on this huge dream with my brother, and he didn't even know. I think I started to resent him for that, a little bit. Because he was still calling and writing to me like nothing happened while I was sitting in Spain, feeling like I just lost my sense of purpose and my brother in one go.
And that was when I first saw you, through some match videos. It just pissed me off how good you were. It felt like I had put my heart and soul into being a striker and I still failed, but you did it and made it look so easy. You were so much better than I ever was. And people said you were this huge asshole and I believed them.”
He turned to look at Kaiser, meeting his eyes. “And I then found out that this asshole who I already resented was my soulmate. It was like the universe was playing a cruel joke on me.”
“Oh. So is that why you hated me? Because I’m a striker?”
Sae made a noise of dissatisfaction. “No, I hated you because you’ve never had to walk into a room and feel like you didn’t belong. Like you didn’t deserve to be there.”
“And you do?”
“All the fucking time.”
There was another pause as Kaiser considered his next words.
“I’m a little jealous of you, Sae.”
“Huh?”
Sae wasn’t sure what he had expected after spilling some of his deepest emotions like that. Maybe a rejection, a defensive no, it’s not easy , or even some horribly misguided attempt at sympathy. But making it about himself? A new low for the bastard, even if it was an unsurprising one.
“I’m jealous of your relationship with your brother. I’ve always wanted something like that.”
“Like what?”
“Unconditional love. From anyone. My parents' love was always conditional. If I didn’t live up to their expectations, it would be like I was nothing to them. I practically disappeared.
All my friends only liked me for what I could give them. You know, money, fame by proximity, all that. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually liked me for me .”
Kaiser paused, frowning.
“I used to pray to meet my soulmate, you know? I used to daydream that I’d meet them and they’d be perfect and take me away from everything. I wanted it so bad.
And then I met you and for a second it was like all my dreams had come true. You were so perfect to me, just like everything I’d ever hoped for. And then you said you didn’t want me, and it was like my whole world just fell apart.”
Sae watched him, saying nothing.
“I guess I thought my feelings were this pure, innocent thing, but I was really just doing the same thing to you that everyone always did to me. I made my love for you conditional. I put all of these expectations on you even when you didn’t want them. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sae was a little surprised that Kaiser had apologized. He had never taken him as the type to reflect on his actions.
“I’m not going to ask for you to forgive me. But I hope you can give me a chance again. To fix the impression you have of me.”
Maybe Sae could admit he was wrong about some things too.
“I’m sorry too.”
Kaiser raised his eyebrows.
“I was too caught up in my own fear of failure to see you as anything other than just a symbol of everything I thought I lost.”
“And now?”
Sae pinched his lips together. “I can’t promise I’ll ever like you. But maybe I can learn to tolerate you, Kaiser. Maybe we can start over.”
“I’ll take that chance.” Kaiser was smiling, but his voice was oddly serious.
Then, like a spell had been broken, the speaker overhead crackled back to life. “Our maintenance team was able to fix the issue. the elevator should be running again in a few minutes.”
Sae was surprised at the palpable relief he felt as the elevator lurched upwards. They rode in silence for a few minutes until the elevator reached Sae’s floor, coming to a smooth stop.
“Sae,” Kaiser called as Sae stepped out of the elevator. “After the World Cup let me take you out on something proper. A date.”
Sae glanced over his shoulder.
“Win. Then I’ll think about it.”
The elevator doors slid closed.
Japan ended up with a bronze, their best showing at any World Cup. Sae wasn’t satisfied.
Germany took the gold.
A few minutes after the final match ended, Sae received a text from an unknown number.
u free tomorrow?
Sae considered, typing then erasing his response a few times.
dinner. 7pm