Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He knows he is not to blame for the accident. And yet, guilt had been gnawing at Sae Itoshi ever since it occurred. That morning, the pair had fought - they rarely did that. Maybe it was morning grumpiness, or maybe it was that Sae had been pushing Shidou too far, for too long. Whatever the reason, when Sae mumbled sleepily into Shidou’s shoulder that he needed to go home and get ready for their match later that day, Shidou’s lean arms tightened around him.

“Stay. Let’s head to the club together,” Shidou whispered into soft, red hair.

Sae sighed, snuggling further into the warmth of Shidou’s chest. “You know I can’t, demon.”

“Why not?” 

“Because it was risky enough sleeping over, Ryuusei; I can’t be seen alone with you of all people.”

Sae felt Shidou's body go rigid with tension. “What’s that supposed to mean, Sae?”

Sae’s eyebrows furrowed at the proper use of his name. For all he routinely fought back against Shidou's crude pet names, he'd grown accustomed to them; hearing his given name come out of the man's mouth was unsettling to say the least. He pulled back a little, wary. “Your sexuality’s not exactly a secret, Ryuusei. If the public starts seeing us alone together, you know what they’ll think.”

“Do I now? Why don’t you spell it out for me anyways, Sae, what will they think?”

“That we’re a couple, obviously.”

“And? Would that be such a terrible thing?” Shidou asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The resounding silence from Sae was answer enough.

Shidou pulled away, throwing the duvet off his waist. Before he could fully clamber out of bed, however, Sae reached for him, grasping his wrist firmly.

“Wait.”

“Fuck you.” Shidou attempted to tug his wrist free. Sae didn't let him. "Get off of me."

“No. There's no need to overreact, Ryuusei. We have a nice thing going here.” Sae stated. “We see each other often enough, and always have a good time when we do."

"Good time." Shidou scoffed. "You mean we have good sex." He said, spitting the last word like a curse. Sae only shrugged.

"All the same, there’s no reason to mess it all up. What we have now is enough.” Shidou remained stoic and silent in the moment where he'd typically falter and fall back into Sae's arms. Instead, Sae wrapped his arms around the man’s slim waist, pressing his forehead to the back of Shidou’s neck. “This is enough, right?” he whispered.

Sae could feel the minute trembling of Shidou’s body before he finally rasped out a shaky response. “No. It’s not.” Sae flinched back, but Shidou didn’t reach out to comfort him, not this time. Instead, he walked up to the massive floor to ceiling windows and gazed out at the view of the cityscape rather than Sae’s piercing emerald eyes, so that maybe he’d be able to muster up the courage to express the feelings that had plagued him for so long.

“I want more of you, Sae. I want to go out on dates with you, real ones, outside of our apartments. I want to take you for a ride on my motorbike, and feel you pressed up against my back. Christ Sae, I wanna tell the team about you; Reo would lose his fucking mind.” Once Shidou started, his nerve only built. Words poured out of him, detailing the numerous things he had ached to say and do with Sae, since the day he first recieved a pass from him.

Slowly, he turned back around to gauge Sae’s reaction. Sae’s mouth was open dumbly, and his eyebrows were pulled up into an image of utter confusion, as though Shidou’s feelings were particularly shocking for a pair that had been seeing each other for almost a year. Despite the gravity of their conversation, a bark of laughter tumbled past Shidou’s lips, before he composed himself to resume his piece. “I know you want this too, Sae. We’re not in Japan anymore; we can do as we please now. And the media, well fuck the media and whatever shitty gossip they pull out their asses. You know I listen to you — only you.” Shidou felt his confidence grow as his words poured out uninterrupted. He strode over to Sae and let a smirk curl across his face. “There’s nothing to fear lashes, you know your demon will protect you, so—”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Sae sniped back automatically, tilting his chin up to level a glare at Shidou, whose eyes only crinkled with fondness.

“Fine, fine. I don’t mind playing the damsel in distress, if you’ll be my knight in—”

“Stop,” Sae interrupted, injecting the room with that horrible tension again. “Stop talking about us like we’re some sort of package deal, Ryuusei.” Sae paused for a long while, then took in a deep, deliberate breath. The exhale was shaky. “This relationship, no, this arrangement, is nothing more than a bit of fun, a stress relief.” Shidou flinched back, shaking his head jerkily. “What you’re doing right now, bringing all of your feelings into it, is making this stressful. That defeats the purpose.”

“No. . .no. You don't mean that, Sae. You don't. You help me dye my hair, and you wrap my knuckles when I give idiots a beating, and—”

“And what? You think that means something to me? Think it means I care about you, means I want to have a relationship with you, settle down, get married and have kids or some shit? Don’t delude yourself, that’s not who I am, and that’s not who I’ll ever be, so quit projecting your pathetic feelings onto me. You don’t know what I want, and you sure as shit don’t know how I feel. You don’t know me, Shidou,” Sae bit back, his tone slipping from berating to pleading.

He watched as Shidou’s lower lip trembled, and a sick feeling of accomplishment came over him. Shidou wouldn’t move past this, he couldn’t. Sae tensed in anticipation. Would Shidou storm out? Or maybe he’d take a swing at him. Worst of all he might start crying, right here in the middle of his bedroom. Instead however, Shidou looked down at his feet and mumbled, “You’re right.” Sae’s knees shook. “I don’t know what goes on in that fucked up head of yours, Sae. I know what goes on in mine though. I know how I feel. I know that I…I lo—”

Sae surged forward and frantically pressed his palm against Shidou’s lips before he could utter that damning four letter word. “No. Don’t. Just— just get out, Ryuusei.”

“But—” Shidou began, voice shaking.

“Please,” Sae said, not turning back to see if Shidou obeyed before he made his way to the en-suite bathroom, locking the door behind him. Catching sight of himself in the mirror made his stomach roil in disgust, so instead he stared numbly at the floor, fists clenched at his side.

Sae was unsure how long he'd stood motionless in the bathroom when the sound of his phone ringing knocked him out of his daze. Few people had his phone number, and fewer still would dare to call him spontaneously, and so naturally, the sound put him on edge and lured him back into the bedroom. Sae noted that Shidou was thankfully nowhere to be found before realising with a wry snort that he had successfully kicked a man out of his own apartment.

He glanced at his still ringing phone and sighed deeply at the sight of Aiku’s name displayed on the screen. Immediately, Sae declined the call and checked their messages instead. The barrage of texts that greeted him weren’t a surprise — Aiku’s shamelessness was well established, however the contents of the texts had Sae moving with urgency. He briefly bundled up his things, scrutinised himself in the mirror, and then briskly walked out of Shidou’s apartment building, towards his car. Aiku's messages were unnecessarily lengthy, but important nonetheless: Sae was almost an hour late to the team’s warm up before their match against Arsenal that afternoon.

By the time he’d grabbed his clothes from his house and made it to the grounds, warm ups were already winding down. His coach didn’t even take the time to chew him out, instead frog marching him to the pitch where his eyes instantly fell to Shidou. The man was in a t-shirt and shorts two sizes too small for him, head bent low as he spoke quietly with Reo.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Aiku’s grating voice called across the pitch, causing numerous heads to swivel towards him. Sae’s focus was on Shidou though, whose gaze barely brushed over him before he returned to his conversation with Reo. Reo’s lips turned down in a frown at the sight of Sae — he had clearly chosen sides fast.

Sae frowned. This would be a long afternoon.

As the tail end of warm ups stuttered along, Sae felt weirdly reminiscent of his time at Real Madrid. Without Shidou acting as a bridge, none of his teammates made much of an attempt to talk to him. It was unsurprising considering Manchester United was Shidou’s team first; they had their loyalties, and it was abundantly clear the pair had been in a fight. Still, Sae was a little caught off guard when even Aiku, the most wilfully oblivious flirt, caught on after a few pointed glares from Reo and ceased his yammering. Sae rolled his eyes with a huff, attention only consumed by the ball at his feet, and the man who had the misfortune of falling into his orbit. Sae’s heart squeezed tighter the longer he watched him. There was something fundamentally wrong with a man as vibrant and spirited and alive as Shidou, existing so quietly, the only hint to his frustrations being the added intensity with which he punted the ball into the net.

As warm ups wore on, pairs and small groups of players slowly trickled into the locker rooms, coming back out in their match kits. Sae noticed dimly how time stretched when Shidou and Reo went to change, most of the camera crews arriving and setting up before they finally returned together, their sides pressed against one another as they walked.

They separated only when the Arsenal team trailed in; Reo rushed over to embrace Nagi, who left a brief peck in his hair. Sae’s eyes flitted away after that.

Eventually, they were all filing back into their respective locker rooms for the team talk, and before Sae knew it, he was back out on the pitch, ball at his feet, and the sound of a whistle in his ears, signalling the start of the match.

It was a disaster.

The team’s performance hinged on how well Sae could deliver the right passes to the right players and link everybody up, and to put it simply, he was failing. His passes were technically sound, and as beautiful as ever, yet they weren’t what Shidou needed, or wanted. The pair were completely out of sync. Reo tried his best to pick up the slack in their attacks, but the game had quickly become a defensive effort for Man United.

As the end of the first half neared, frustration steadily mounted. Manchester United had conceded two goals already, and were quickly reaching the point of no return. Their aim of qualifying for the Champions League was under threat, and so was their pride. Sae grit his teeth and sent a pass whizzing towards Shidou. It was too high, too fast, and on course to land in the goalie’s outstretched hands. However, Shidou dug deep. His eyes flashed with determination, with something to prove and he soared across the pitch, leg outstretched to try and reach the ball.

Time slowed.

Helplessly, Sae watched as the goalie’s path collided with Shidou’s, and the two violently came together. The goalie’s forehead struck Shidou’s thigh and he crumpled to his knees, groaning and clutching his head. Sae’s gaze however, was trained on Shidou.

Shidou who always had two bottles of homemade kombucha fermenting in his kitchen ever since he’d noticed that Sae drank a glass of it every morning. Shidou who teased Sae incessantly when he found out he meditated, joking that it clearly wasn’t working, and yet still mysteriously found himself with a silent task to attend to whenever he noticed Sae going out to the balcony, his favourite meditation spot. Shidou who claimed he loved Sae’s favourite movie, ‘Taxi Driver’, and yet every time they watched it, would be snoring obnoxiously on Sae’s shoulder within half an hour. Shidou who challenged him loudly and unrestrained, and cared for him even louder, and with even less restraint, was flying uncontrolled through the air, momentum magnified by the impact. Horror mounted in Sae as Shidou rapidly approached the steel goal post. His head crashed into it with a deafening clang. Then, his body went limp and he fell to the grass, motionless.

Sae dragged ragged breaths in and out of his chest, feet glued to the pitch, eyes locked on Shidou as the referee rushed over to his body. The players in Shidou’s immediate vicinity began crowding around him, blocking his body from the sight of the nosy cameras, from the sight of Sae too. The rise and fall of Sae’s chest increased in speed.

Abruptly, Sae found himself being dragged forward by Aiku; the defensive players and even the goalie were rushing up the pitch towards Shidou. Stumbling, Sae tried to keep up with Aiku’s sprint, but his lungs refused to cooperate and he was wheezing noisily by the time he made it to the outskirts of the huddle around Shidou.

Silently, he shoved players out of his path. Their indignant outbursts fell on deaf ears. He needed to see Shidou, to touch him, to hold him, but the medics were telling him to move back, and a big hand was grabbing his jersey and pulling. Turning around, he realised it was Nagi, one hand interlocked with Reo’s, and the other clutched tightly in Sae’s shirt.

“Back off. Let the medics do their job,” he said bluntly. Sae’s temper flared, a retort bubbling to his lips. He was interrupted however, by the sight of a stretcher being carried away, and when he turned back, he realised Shidou was no longer lying behind him. He thrashed in Nagi’s hold, helpless, as he watched Shidou retreat further and further away from him.

The next thirty minutes were the slowest of his life. The two teams filtered back into their respective locker rooms for privacy, Aiku took over Nagi’s role as babysitter to prevent Sae from bolting, their coach announced the match had been suspended till next week and that everyone should take the next day off to clear their heads. When he finally got to the details of which hospital Shidou had been transported to, Sae’s body strained against Aiku’s tireless grip.

“You’re in no state to drive, Sae. I’ll take us,” Aiku said calmly, before he dragged Sae over to his flashy, slime green mustang. Sae got in and leant his head against the tinted glass window, his eyes occasionally drooped for a few seconds before his body abruptly jerked back to consciousness, Shidou’s name on the tip of his tongue.

Sae didn’t wait for Aiku to fully stop the car in front of the private hospital, before he was jumping out out and running into the fancy reception area.

“I need to see someone. Ryuusei Shidou. He’s here, and I need to see him. Now,” he said to the first man he saw.

“Of course, sir. May I ask how you are related to Mr Shidou?” the small man behind the desk responded, smiling tightly.

Sae paused, taken aback. “Well I’m his—. I mean he’s my—. We’re—”

“Friends,” Reo’s smooth voice interrupted. Sae swiveled around to see he’d been joined by Reo and Aiku; Nagi stood a little ways behind them. Sae opened his mouth to say something, correct Reo maybe, but in his uncharacteristic moment of indecision, Reo continued, “I should still be listed as his emergency contact — Reo Mikage.” The receptionist let out a relieved breath at that, taking down Reo’s details, before quietly relaying some information to him.

“He’s still being seen by the doctors, so we’ll just have to wait and see once they’re done,” Reo told them all calmly, but Sae noticed the violent shake of his hands before they were grasped in Nagi’s larger ones.

“You’re his emergency contact,” Sae finally rasped out, accusingly.

Reo only frowned in confusion, tilting his head. “Well, yes. Who else would it be?”

Sae paused, realising the question was a fair one. Of course Shidou hadn’t changed him to his emergency contact. Hell, just this morning he'd practically told him not to contact him ever again. And he'd thought he meant it in the moment too. Truly. But now, with the burn in his eyes and the ache in his chest all he thought was that he'd give anything to be with Shidou right now. Long overdue thoughts weren't enough though. Sae bit his lip and turned to leave.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Reo called after him.

“Home,” Sae responded, briefly turning back to face him.

Reo’s expression of outrage quickly morphed into one of sobriety at the look in Sae's eyes. “Okay. I’ll send updates on his condition on the team group chat.” He gave Sae a pitying smile.

Sae hated pity.

He made his way out of the hospital and called his driver on retainer. No one getting paid as much as Sae’s driver left their client waiting long. Within a few minutes, Sae was sat in the back of a discreet, black sedan and obsessively replayed the day’s events back in his mind. As he neared the large streets preceding his  estate, a feeling of dread rose within him. By the time the car had stopped, his hands were trembling slightly.

“Is everything alright, sir?” the driver asked. “Is this not the requested location?”

“Yes. It is,” Sae answered. He grasped the car door handle momentarily. In the next moment however, he was pulling his seat belt back on and giving the driver new directions.

Soon after, he found himself stumbling out of the car and briskly walking, almost jogging, into an apartment complex. He fumbled for his key card for an embarrassingly long time, but eventually, he burst into the only place he could bear to be at the moment.

Sae's tightly wound body finally began to uncoil a little, and with an exhausted sigh, he flopped onto the bed, still unmade after bearing witness to the argument that had taken place on it just this morning. Sae buried his head in Shidou's pillow and inhaled deeply, aware this was likely the closest he'd get to Shidou this evening; an accident like his would undoubtedly necessitate a night in the hospital at the very least. That thought had what little comfort Sae had felt fading fast. He rolled over and pulled out his phone to check the team group chat for any updates from Reo.

To his immense frustration however, he realised that he was no longer in said group chat. See, Sae had a bad habit of leaving group chats, and Shidou had a worse one of adding him back despite his protests. However, it seemed Shidou hadn’t gotten around to it before their argument earlier in the day, and so Sae was essentially cut off. He groaned and resolved himself to call Aiku to add him back as he absentmindedly nuzzled further into the comfort of Shidou’s scent. Sae’s exhaustion from the day’s events rapidly caught up to him though, and before he knew it his eyes fell closed, and his phone tumbled from his grasp.

The sound of boisterous voices and feet shuffling into the apartment wakes Sae from his impromptu nap. His heart pounds an unsteady rhythm in his chest; an odd cocktail of excitement and trepidation stirs within him at the prospect of finally seeing how Shidou is doing.

“I can’t believe they discharged me so quickly. I forget how great it is to have rich and powerful friends who can pull some strings for me,” he hears Shidou say. Sae feel his eyes water for the first time in years, and can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed.

Reo’s melodic laugh rings out. “Ryuusei, you realise being a pro footballer makes you pretty rich and powerful now too, right?”

“Oh yeah, I’m the shit now, aren’t—”

Sae stares wide eyed at Shidou, frozen in the doorway. His heart clenches at the bandages wrapped tightly around Shidou's head and the purple bruising under his eyes, but moreso, he feels his heart soar with relief. Shidou is fine — he’s home and he’s fine.

Before Sae can muster up something to say, Shidou exclaims, “Woah! Sae fucking Itoshi is in my bed right now. These meds are crazy!”

Oddly, it’s this that has Sae’s tears finally overflowing, as he fluctuates between laughing at the randomness of Shidou’s words and fruitlessly wiping away his tears. Sae clambers out of the bed, hands reaching out to cup Shidou’s face and just stare at him, absorbing that he is okay. “Wow,” Shidou whispers, breaking Sae out of his reverie, “this hallucination feels so fucking real.”

Sae snorts. “That’s because you’re not hallucinating idiot. I’m here.”

Shidou blinks dumbly a few times, and then he takes a step back. Sae aches. “This is. . .real?” Shidou asks. Sae nods. Then, Shidou’s expression closes off and he snarls, “Then what the hell are you doing in my bedroom?" Shidou's gaze rakes across his body, sizing him up. "I’ll admit, you’ve filled out since we played together in Blue Lock, lashes, but I can definitely still take you in a fight, injury or not.”

Sae frowns, taken aback; he’s never felt Shidou’s hostility directed at him before. Even this morning he was more sad than anything else. “I know you’re mad at me, Ryuusei, but this isn’t funny—”

“You’re telling me,” Shidou cuts in. “I know I was all over you back in Blue Lock, but even you can’t make breaking and entering sexy.”

“Excuse me? You gave me the fucking keys. You said I was always welcome, and I know we’re fighting, but you can’t just—”

“Why the hell would I give you the keys to my apartment? I barely even know you.”

“What.”

“You heard me, lashes. My manager’s been on my ass about avoiding scandals recently and fighting Real Madrid’s prodigy definitely counts as a scandal, but if you don’t get the fuck out of my apartment in the next ten seconds I’m gonna crack that pretty head of yours open.”

Sae however, is firmly rooted to his spot, eyes boring into Shidou as he asks, “Real Madrid?” And then it begins to dawn on him. “No. There’s no way.”

Shidou’s fists unclench, a tentative curiosity in his tone as he asks, “What? What is it?”

“Shut up for a second. I’m thinking,” Sae snaps reflexively, as he puzzles out their situation. Surprisingly, Shidou obeys with only a huff of annoyance. Eventually, Sae stops his muttering and takes a deep breath, resigned.

“I’m sorry — for everything. I’m so sorry, and I promise I will give you a proper apology later, demon. Right now though, I need you to answer me honestly, okay? No games.” Shidou nods jerkily, breath caught in his throat.

“Ryuusei, what year is it?”

Shidou’s shoulders slump in relief, a patronising lilt to his voice as he says, “2025.”

Sae’s eyebrows raise comically high. “Oh shit.”

Chapter Text

Sae absolutely hates Mayfair. Well, he hates all of central London really — too many people. Mayfair’s the worst though, a lot of pretty girls who think that if they just look hot enough any rich guy’s fair game, and a lot of guys who are willing to prove them right. Case in point, Ryuusei Shidou, who has his hands wrapped around the waist of a stunning redhead as they dance together in the middle of the ritzy club their group had stumbled into.

Group was a strong word, really. They were a mismatched set of footballers Shidou had befriended in his two years in England. How Reo had managed to organise the outing on such short notice was a mystery, but they were there, celebrating Shidou’s 21st birthday — again, since he’d forgotten the first one. That wasn’t all he’d forgotten though: it seemed a year’s worth of memories were missing from his bleach blonde head.

Initially, Sae had attempted to explain this realisation to Shidou, but the man refused to believe him, thinking it to be an elaborate prank orchestrated by one of the numerous people he’d pissed off over the years. It wasn’t until he’d heard Reo verify Sae’s claims that he had let himself be convinced. Then, he panicked with an uncharacteristic subtlety. He had smirked and said playfully, “That’s no fair, that means I’ve just missed my birthday. You’ve got to throw me a party to make up for it purple bun, pretty please?” 

Sae noticed the way his words spilled out too fast though, the way his foot tapped out a disjointed beat against the hardwood floors, the almost manic look in his eyes. Sae’s hand jerked out towards him, to do what, he was unsure, but he dragged it back before Shidou could notice and utter another scathing rejection.

Reo noticed though, squinting at him in suspicion before he pulled away from the phone on which he was communicating the situation to his own private doctor, to give Shidou a thumbs up and a weak smile, saying, “Of course Ryuusei, whatever you want.” The remorse rang clear in his voice. Evidently, he blamed himself for rushing Shidou’s hospital discharge, though Sae was certain it was Shidou’s own whining that had pushed him into doing so in the first place. Sae didn’t have room to sympathise however, he was deep in his own hole of self-flagellation and regret. 

The private doctor only took seven minutes to arrive — yes, Sae was checking. Sae and Reo hovered around the doctor as he assessed Shidou’s condition; the occasional medical jargon he muttered did nothing to calm their nerves. Occasionally, Sae would notice Reo shooting him looks. Looks that made him feel like a patient on the operating table, dissected with clinical precision. Looks that made him feel horribly seen. Looks that made him feel sick.

And then the doctor finished his assessment and announced that he was unsure if Shidou would ever get his memories back, but it was fortunate that he was only missing a relatively short time period. At his detached words, Sae excused himself, rushing to Shidou’s en suite bathroom where he proceeded to actually be sick, dry heaving into the toilet loudly as his hair slowly stuck to his neck, thick with sweat. Once the retching had stopped, and his stomach didn’t feel like it would attempt to leap out of his throat at a moment’s notice, he laid his head on the bathroom’s cool tile floors and waited.

Shidou’s yelling jarred him out of his daze. “Yo, Sae, if you could come out of my room some time this year that would be great, because Reo’s not letting the doctor continue till you’re back and—” 

Sae heard a strangled yelp before Reo called out with an awkward chuckle, “Don’t mind him. Take all the time you need, Sae.” 

The mortifying realisation hit him like a baseball bat to the head: Sae had been lying pathetically on the marble tiles waiting for Ryuusei to come and find him, to barge into his personal space unabashedly, and start chattering in a way that should be vexing, but was suprisingly soothing. Taking Shidou into consideration was no longer a conscious decision in his mind. Without Sae’s permission, the man had set up shop in his head, and Sae was loath to evict him now.

Shakily, he got to his feet and rinsed out his mouth, taking a moment to compose himself. Then, he made his way back to the living room.

The doctor explained that no, they should not try to overload Shidou with information of the last year, and yes, Shidou could trick someone into divulging said information, but the damage this could do to his long term memory was unknown. He was advised to steer clear of screen time entirely and avoid pushing himself too hard in an effort to remember. 

“So what you’re saying is,” Sae interrupted, “you have no idea how to get his memories back without his brain self-destructing. How helpful.”

“W-well, with matters of the brain it’s always best to exercise caution, you see,” the doctor stuttered out timidly. “If he’s to regain his memories, it should happen as naturally as possible, when he does familiar acts like talking to friends, playing football—”

“Speaking of football, when can I start playing again?” Shidou cut in. “I’m not planning on becoming a benchwarmer, so it better be sooner rather than later, glasses,” he added threateningly.

The doctor leaned away from him, fiddling with the thin frames perched on his nose self consciously, as he said, “That will depend on your personal recovery of course, but strenuous activity should likely be avoided for a few months—”

“Few months!” Shidou exclaimed, outraged. “The doctors earlier didn’t say that!”

Frightened, the doctor flinched back straight into Sae’s range, who questioned harshly, “Are you sure you know what you’re talking about, glasses, because it seems like—”

“He has brain damage!” the doctor yelled out, finally at his wits’ end. “Do you understand the gravity of that? His brain has experienced trauma, and it is damaged, and it could get worse at any time, and until you go and get further brain scans, there’s nothing I, nor any doctor can do to help you, except advise you to be careful!” Hastily, he packed up his things, taking a deep breath before finishing, “If that’s all, I’ll be leaving now.” And then he was gone, Reo chasing after him with a huff, leaving the pair in silence.

The doctor’s outburst had sombered them both. Sae knew he had fucked up. He knew he had hurt Shidou, both emotionally and physically, but to hear it said so plainly stung. Brain damage. 

He’d always considered self-esteem issues to be more of Rin’s thing, but it was so, so difficult not to feel unworthy when faced with the dichotomy between how well he’d been cared for, and how poorly he’d returned it. Sae had pushed Shidou away and reeled him back in; he’d laughed at Shidou’s attempts to mirror anything close to a relationship, then turned around and made him promise he was Sae’s, only Sae’s. He’d yanked at Shidou’s edges, shook his foundations, ignored the ominous creaking that preceded collapse and let it all fall apart around him. And to what end? So he could selfishly hoard as much of Shidou in his calloused hands as possible, whilst vehemently guarding his own fragile pieces? He had done this to Shidou, reduced him to the desperation showcased on the pitch earlier, caused the accident to occur, and if he stayed any longer what more damage would he wreak on him? He should leave, save him any more trouble, get out of his life and—

“So when am I going in for these scans?” Shidou asked evenly. Sae blinked, jarred out of his spiralling thoughts as he tried to process what was said and formulate a response. It seemed Shidou wasn’t talking to him though. 

Reo had returned. “Well, I’ll get you in for nine, so you have some time to sleep before then. Coach will definitely check in too, and some of the team doctors likely will as well.”

“Good. Let me pack up my shit, then we can go to yours.”

“Oh just invite yourself over, why don’t you?” Reo retorted, but the smile on his face betrayed him. Shidou shoved him playfully on the way to his bedroom. Silently, Sae trailed after him.

Sae stood in the doorway of the bedroom he spent more time in than his own, and watched as Shidou flitted about, tossing things into a duffle bag. Soon, Shidou was in front of him, and his lips were moving, but Sae wasn’t hearing him. Shidou’s hand darted out, grasped Sae’s shoulder and squeezed painfully tight, but it was Shidou touching him, so it was okay. He was saying something, telling Sae to move, but Sae couldn’t move, because if he moved Shidou would leave, and Shidou couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave him.

“Don’t go.”

“Huh?” Shidou’s grip on Sae’s shirt loosened.  

“You heard me,” Sae said, unable to utter something so close to a plea again. “Just…just tell me where you’re going.”

“Reo’s place, obviously,” Shidou replied, squinting at him judgmentally. “I said that a few minutes ago. You sure you’re not the one with brain damage?”

“You were born with a screw loose — not me,” Sae shot back reflexively. However, instead of Shidou snorting out a laugh in response, the hand on his shoulder squeezed tight once again. 

Right, this wasn’t the Shidou from four years ago who had been infatuated with him, nor was it the Shidou from last week who ran his hands through Sae’s copper hair as he napped. Regardless, this was the man he promised an apology, and although Sae’s history of keeping his promises wasn’t the best (see: entire relationship with Rin Itoshi), he couldn’t break this one.

He wasn’t the most introspective of people, to put it lightly, but he knew himself to be a man of action, not words, so he reasoned the only way to truly apologise to Shidou would be to stop doing the things that had hurt him in the first place. Therefore, instead of shaking Shidou’s hand off of him, or shoving him back, he rested his hand on Shidou’s larger one, squeezing gently. Shidou stiffened, but he didn’t make any move to deck Sae in the face, so Sae took it as a sign to continue. “Just, this is a lot, obviously. I mean, this is football we’re talking about. You can’t just be alright with all of this, I mean I know you’re not, but—”

“Damn, you suck at this,” Shidou interrupted, but there was a smirk on his face and a softness in his voice, so Sae didn’t let himself get too discouraged.

“I know you don’t know me, don’t know us, and I’m not sure how much I can tell you without me messing up your brain again. I should’ve let you know this before though, and I can’t let you go on not knowing this now.” Sae hesitated briefly before leaning his forehead against Shidou’s broad chest, letting out a shaky sigh of relief when the other man didn’t step back. He needed to be close to whatever was inside Shidou that refused to stop moving, refused to stay still, refused to stay down no matter how often he was beaten to the ground. “I care. I really fucking care about you Ryuusei, and I know you have Reo, and Oliver, and Meguru, and even Seishiro of all people. There’s plenty of people you can turn to who have treated you far better than me, and it would be unfair to let you believe otherwise. I know you though, and you know me, and we, well, we mean something to each other — you and I. So, if you need something, anything, or if you want to talk, then you can come to me. I want you to come to me, and I’d uh, I’d like to...be there for you.” Sae was sure his cheeks were a flaming red, unused to saying anything so sappy, yet heartfelt.

Shidou didn’t respond for a few seconds, leaving them in a stifling silence before he finally said, “You’re real fucking weird, you know.” 

Sae scoffed halfheartedly, moving out of Shidou’s path. “You’re one to talk.”

“Fair point.” Shidou stepped forward. “Well, I’ll keep what you said in mind, underlashes senior. See ya.” 

Sae’s mind zeroed in on the silly nickname he hadn’t heard in years. Shidou called him far dirtier names these days, names that had Sae’s cheeks flushing and snappy insults following swiftly after. Absently, he wondered if he’d ever hear those nicknames again. 

The tentative hope Sae had felt sprouting after his conversation with Shidou three days prior is meeting a slow, brutal death as he watches the man grind against the pretty redhead on the dance floor. Sae had shown up to Shidou’s birthday outing because, aside from just missing the man, he wanted to be there for him, and he couldn’t do that if he was, well, not there.

The days following Shidou’s accident had been filled with interviews, hospital visits, meetings with anxious sponsors, and more interviews. There had been no time to see each other, let alone make a start at rebuilding some semblance of a relationship between them. Except now there is, and Shidou is spending that time getting as close as possible to fucking on the dance floor without getting arrested for indecent exposure.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Sae announces when the redhead rakes her green acrylic nails through Shidou’s messy hair, an action Sae knows Shidou is especially fond of.

Aiku detaches his mouth from the neck of a blonde woman long enough to shout, “I thought you didn’t like drinking.”

“I don’t.”

“But you are today.” 

“I am today,” Sae confirms. A sliver of sobriety flashes in Aiku’s heterochromatic eyes, and he raises an eyebrow judgmentally. Sae tenses.

And then it vanishes. “Well, I’ll drink to that,” Aiku declares, taking a swig from his glass before resuming his make out session. Sae rolls his eyes, then shoves his way through a pack of writhing bodies to get to the bar.

Contemplating the life choices that have led him to this moment — sat alone at a bar, dreadfully bland pop music blaring around him — Sae doesn’t notice the low, raspy voice until it’s practically breathing down his neck. “I’ll get a spritz, how about you?” Shidou says.

An excessively high-pitched voice squeals, “Oh Ryuu, you can’t expect me to decide so quickly! Why don’t you take me back to your table instead and we can share yours, maybe get a bottle too?”

Sae rolls his eyes so hard he could put Rin to shame — he wasn’t planning on getting drunk before, but he definitely is now. Sae's thankful he had the foresight to book his driver a room in a nearby hotel, because while the thought of crashing into a light pole is growing increasingly more appealing, he doesn’t truly have a death wish as of yet, and so driving will definitely be out of the cards for him tonight. 

The bartender slides him his drink and he wrinkles his nose at the smell, but drains it quickly, and calls for another. “Damn, the bar isn't going anywhere, you know,” Shidou teases, sidling up next to him; the redhead clinging to his arm is seemingly forgotten for a moment.

“You’re one to talk,” Sae snipes back, sliding his eyes over to size up the woman by his side who has taken to playing with Shidou’s hair. Irritatingly, he notes that she truly is gorgeous: piercing emerald eyes, glossy full lips, prominent cheekbones, and curves in all the right places. “Shouldn’t you be resting instead of fucking with whatever medication they have you on and getting played by groupies.”

The woman frowns at the jab, looking about to retort, but Shidou gets there first. “What are you, my mum? Besides, mixing painkillers with alcohol never killed anyone." Sae's disapproval must be obvious, because Shidou bursts out laughing a moment later and adds, "I'm just taking the piss, unclench. I've been keeping the drinks light tonight. Mother."

Sae's shoulders relax a little at that. “Well it’s good to know you’re not being a total idiot about your health.” Still, he can’t help but tack on, “You’re being a total idiot with your wallet though." He gestures carelessly at the redheaded woman. "Buying drinks for leeches you won’t remember the names of by tomorrow morning.”

An ugly frown mars the beautiful woman’s face as she opens her mouth to respond, but once again, Shidou is faster. “The fuck is your problem? I wondered why Reo invited a buzzkill like you, thought maybe you weren’t the miserable guy I made you out to be.” Sae recoils. “Seems I was right about you before though.” 

Shidou’s shadow for the night smirks, smelling blood in the air and moving in for the kill. “This asshole’s clearly just jealous of our fun.”

Instead of support though, she only receives a cold glare from Shidou, and a strained word: “Don’t.”

“No. It’s…you’re right,” Sae sighs, the fight draining from him. “This is your night. Have fun…together.” Then, he retreats.

Sae arrives back at their table to see that Nagi has finally succeeded in dragging Reo off the dance floor, and now has the man in his lap as they lazily make out. Aiku and his partner for the night are nowhere to be found; Bachira is occupying his space, looking at risk from falling over, made more alarming by the fact that he is already sat down. Sae debates the merits of going home early, but the frustration of being unaware of what Shidou is doing seems decidedly worse than the frustration of having a front row seat to it. Thus, he sits next to Bachira, grabs a half finished bottle on their table, and settles in for the show.

What feels like hours, but is more than likely a few minutes later, Sae spots Shidou heading straight for their booth, redhead in tow. He grits his teeth, but before he can decide what to do, Bachira turns to him, slurring, “Wanna swap seats?” Sae blinks at him, bemused. “You don’t like it. Those two, together. So swap with me,” Bachira adds.

Dulled by the alcohol, Sae simply nods, muttering sulkily, “Why’d he have to be friends with the most seeing guys ever?” Instead of letting Sae get up to swap, Bachira clambers across his lap, and Sae scooches over into the vacant space.

“‘Seeing’?” Bachira asks, tilting his head like a puppy.

Sae painstakingly drags his eyes away from the sight of Shidou taking a seat next to Bachira, the redhead half in his lap, to look into those unsettling yellow eyes, and repeats, “Seeing. You two — you and Reo. You see stuff, like what I think about my demon. It’s freaky.” 

Bachira whispers conspiratorially, “Your demon?”

A panicked voice in Sae’s mind demands him to stop talking, however the alcohol in his system soon drowns it out. “My demon. I call him that — he likes it. Not you though. You can’t call him that.” 

Bachira giggles like this is the funniest thing in the world, and Sae finds himself laughing along too. “We should drink some more,” Bachira decides once they’ve both caught their breaths. Sae silently agrees, leaning over to steal the bottle next to Reo and Nagi. He frowns when he finds it empty, turning to complain to Bachira, but the man is now face down on the table, snoring noisily. Sae snorts and sits back, letting the alcohol and music occupy his mind for a while.

“Your arms are so big Ryuu, you could like, pick me up with one arm.” Sae cringes at the redhead and then indulges in the thought of him picking her up and dumping her on the road out front in the path of a speeding car so as not to have to hear her obnoxiously loud, sickly sweet voice ever again.

Ryuusei doesn’t respond to her, just continues mouthing at her neck. At the fifth needless moan she lets out, Sae finally snaps, squeezing past Reo and Nagi to shuffle out of the booth. He turns back briefly to see if Shidou has noticed his departure, but the man is too busy groping the woman in his lap to notice much of anything. Envy and copious amounts of alcohol slosh around inside of Sae, threatening to overflow as he stumbles his way out of the club. The crisp, chilly air, and the smell of smoke helps to sober him up as he leans against a wall, taking in deep gulping breaths to calm his agitated heart. 

Deciding that he’s subjected himself to enough torment for one night, Sae pulls out his phone to call on his driver when once again, she appears, dragging Shidou along with her. Sae violently thumps his head against the brick wall behind him — tragically, it does not cause him to pass out and miss the show she’s sure to put on. When she catches his eye, she sends a devilish smirk his way, and now he knows she's trying to rile him up. It’s working.

Instead of pressing Shidou against a wall and making out as expected though, the redhead reaches into her purse and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. 

She lights it up. She inhales. She leans in; Shidou does the same.

Then Sae is in front of Shidou, yanking him down by the collar of his shirt, so he can look him in the eyes as he snarls, “Have you lost your fucking mind?” Sae can’t tell if the haziness of Shidou’s eyes is from the smoke in the air or the alcohol in his body, but the sight just enrages him further. “Clearly, your brain’s more scrambled than the doctors thought, so let me break this down for you. You’re a professional footballer who has to run up and down a pitch for ninety minutes straight, multiple times a week. You cannot afford to fuck up your lungs.” The flash of red hair in the corner of his eye has him whirling around and continuing in that deceptively tranquil voice of his. “What the fuck are you still doing here? Go find another idiot to leech off of.”

The woman scowls, but keeps quiet, eyes darting anywhere but Sae. The juxtaposition between the cool, quiet voice with which Sae speaks, and the fiery rage burning in his eyes, tends to have that halting effect on people. She looks to Shidou for reassurance, but he shakes his head at her. “Just go,” Shidou says. Finally, she does.

Sae’s hand loosens on Shidou’s shirt, but doesn’t let go. “What the hell were you thinking, Ryuusei? Of all things, smoking again, really?”

Shidou sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Not good enough.”

Shidou groans in annoyance. “Jesus, what do you want me to say?”

“Something that explains breaking years of commitment would be great.”

Shidou’s laugh bleeds derision. “Commitment. Life is fucking stressful, Sae. I don’t have football right now, my family’s all the way back in Japan, Reo's even more conjoined to Nagi now than before and I just want. . .I just wanted a buzz, to take the edge off a little bit. That’s it.”

“You know there are other ways to de-stress, Ryuusei. Better ways. I. . .meditate.” Sae musters up, not giving Shidou a chance to react before he continues on. “I could teach you, maybe. Or we could find something else, I’m sure Nagi wouldn’t mind you playing video games together more often.” Shidou looks dubious at that. “What I’m trying to say is, there’s so many other things you could do, just not this one thing, not smoking.”

Shidou rolls his eyes. “I get it, okay? I’m not a little kid; I don’t need you bossing me around like one.”

“I’m not trying to boss you around,” Sae responds, exasperated. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I never asked you too!” 

‘But you did!’ Sae wants to scream. He wants to tell him, ‘You did, and I didn’t listen then, but I am now. I am now.’ Instead, he keeps quiet, letting Shidou say his piece.

“I know you said we were close — friends even.” Sae chokes down a scoff at the understatement of that label. “And I know, the guys on the team agree, but I honestly can’t see how I could ever be close with a stick in the mud like you.” Sae trembles, and it’s this uncontrollable action that pulls Shidou’s attention to the hand still fixed in his shirt. Shidou’s anger visibly reignites as he yanks Sae’s hand off of him. “Oh you’re fucking upset, are you? Shaking like a little kid at a few mean words. Well here’s a bit of fucking life advice: don’t dish out what you can’t take.” Shidou paces in front of him, working himself further into a fit of rage. “I mean really, the amount of shit you’ve thrown at me and you wanna play the victim. I’m the one who can’t play football. I’m the one being hounded by the press. I’m the one being hounded by you, and now you wanna get all teary-eyed over the truth. Well, the truth hurts sometimes, and truth is, I hope those fucking memories don’t come back, so I don’t have to remember ever knowing you.”

“No,” Sae breathes out. “No. Take it back. You don’t mean that, Ryuusei. You can’t. Please. Take it back.” Shidou doesn’t respond, sparing Sae a cold glance before he marches back into the club.

Sae’s knees give out beneath him, and he collapses to the ground. The pain of his knees slamming against the concrete does nothing to dull the pain in his heart.

Chapter Text

Sae wakes up to a thumping in his head like a barrage of fists against a wooden door, except his mind is made of material much less sturdy than wood, and as such his head feels on the verge of collapsing under the incessant pressure. He groans; hangovers are the worst.

Exhaustion clawing at him, he attempts to feel around for his phone, not willing to expose his eyes to the harsh rays of light that have surely started infiltrating the room. His hand nudges something on the surface beside him — a nightstand, probably — and then the sound of glass shattering is ringing in his ears, exacerbating the nasty headache he’s battling. 

Sae pries his eyes open to the sight of a tastefully furnished, but sparsely decorated room that is definitely not his own. He doesn’t have much time to ponder this fact before Reo is bursting in, asking frantically, “What was that noise? Are you okay?”

Sae gapes at him, baffled by his presence in a room that even more bafflingly, is not his own. Then, his sluggish brain pieces together the scene he finds himself in and the picture is not promising: Reo shirtless in the doorway, Sae in a bed that is not his own, a blank void where the memories after his fight with Shidou should be. Sae narrows his eyes at Reo, who automatically takes a step back in response. Then, Reo’s eyes widen and he holds up his hands defensively, exclaiming, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Right.” Sae drawls, as he tries to work out how quickly he can find his phone and get out.

“No, really.” Reo says, before he turns on his heel and rushes out of the room. Sae blinks at the spot he previously occupied, then shrugs and picks up the painkillers left helpfully on the nightstand. He stares longingly at the water pooling on the floor beside him, submerging shards of glass, then takes two pills dry. With a heavy sigh, he starts the search for his phone. 

Sae is not a cheater. Yes he can be callous, and cold, and cruel, but to betray the only person he’s ever fallen in lo—.  

Sae severs the string of thought before it can fully coil around his lungs and suffocate him, because it would. It would squeeze all the air out of him and replace it with something new and alien, and if Spain taught Sae anything it was this: new is not necessarily good, in fact, new can be irreversibly, devastatingly bad. 

Sae is just reaching for his phone when Reo stumbles back into the room, his clingy boyfriend, Nagi, draped over him. “See,” he says, slightly breathless, “Seishiro was with me all night. Nothing happened between us two, and nothing ever would.” Reo pauses to catch his breath. “I see how my entrance gave you the wrong impression though.” He adds sheepishly, running his hands through Nagi’s hair all the while. 

Nagi blinks teal eyes open long enough to get out, “Reo’s not a liar.” In the next moment, he easily passes out against his boyfriend’s shoulder and Sae finds himself oddly impressed. 

Although Sae was fairly confident in his abilities to not be a cheating scumbag, having the evidence laid out in front of him lifts a weight off of his shoulders. He lets out a relieved exhale and goes to slip on his shoes so he can finally get out of this city and go home. 

“Can you wait a minute?” Reo asks, edging around the shards of broken glass to set Nagi down on the now empty bed. “I’d like to talk.” 

Sae squints suspiciously at him. He likes Reo, vaguely, like you like the uncle at the family gathering who knows better than to interrogate you about your life. The approval lies in the unobtrusive, easy nature of the relationship — having a talk seems a touch too far into obtrusive territory. “Thanks for getting me out of the club safe.” Sae tries, guessing that Reo is expecting some form of gratitude for last night, and he is grateful, who knows what crazy fan could have stumbled upon and kidnapped him, or worse, publicised his breakdown.

Reo’s frown tells him this is the wrong response though. “There’s no need to thank me, it was the only decent thing to do.” Sae wonders, not for the first time, how such a well-adjusted man repeatedly ends up surrounded by excessively difficult, obnoxious personalities. “I wanted to talk about something else actually.”

“Oh.” Sae replies, stalling for a way to shut the conversation down without offending Shidou’s closest friend and one of the few teammates he finds tolerable. “I’ve got to get back, but you can text me about it.” He lies, making a beeline for the door.

“Wait.” Reo calls. Sae ignores him. “I know about you and Ryuusei.” 

Sae’s breath is stolen from his lungs. Stiffly, he turns around to stare wide-eyed at Reo. As his brain scrambles for a reply, a look of triumph flickers across Reo’s face. He’s got Sae exactly where he wants him, and in that moment Sae doesn’t see ‘Reo’, the too sincere, too heartfelt teammate, but ‘Mikage’ the son of an infamous businessman, groomed to be the perfect heir — it makes him nervous. Reo continues, “Let’s talk.”

Knowing he has been ensnared, but powerless to escape, Sae walks over to a corner of the room and drops himself into a plush brown armchair. Although he is by no means religious, the strange urge to get down and pray for salvation strikes him, and he briefly wonders if this is how the Mikage corporation’s competitors feel before they get taken for all they’re worth. 

“Wait no, don't look like that.” Reo splutters out, stony facade abandoned. “I’m not planning on blackmailing you or anything, I just needed you to stop and listen — I wasn’t even sure of your relationship before you basically confirmed it by that reaction.” Sae seethes silently at that. “You’re just important to Ryuusei,”  Sae winces pathetically, “so you’re important to me in a way. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you — him forgetting your entire relationship.”

Sae sighs; if he’s going to be forced to talk about this, he might as well set the record straight. “We were never in a relationship.”

“Oh. Still, shouldn’t there have been some sign of you two ‘not being in a relationship’ on his phone or something?”

“I didn’t want to risk a crazy fan hacking us and leaking everything, so no, there’s no convenient sign for him to find on his phone.” Sae refuses to feel embarrassed about how paranoid he sounds. “Listen Reo, we were never a fairytale romance like you and Seishiro. I really hurt Ryuusei and—”

“Oh, I know.” Reo cuts in, uncharacteristically cold. “I was there to pick him back up after you two argued about things he wouldn’t explain, because he wanted to protect your secret. I was there the day he got hurt, so trust me, I know what you’ve done to him, but I also know that whatever you two have going on is worth fixing — after you apologise of course.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” Sae mutters. “He doesn’t know who I am, and what he does know, he hates, and I can’t blame him. Watching him kiss a random girl all night didn’t exactly bring out my sunny personality.” 

“He doesn’t hate you.” Reo says, ignoring Sae’s dryness.

“You were probably too busy making out with your manchild to notice, but I’m far from his favourite person at the moment.” Sae retorts, eyes honing in on said manchild sprawled on the king sized bed. He seems to be out cold. Regardless, he’d probably be the last person to care about Sae’s romance woes.

“Would someone who hated you make sure you got home safe?” Reo asks, choosing to ignore Sae’s unnecessary, but accurate dig at his boyfriend. “He pulled me and Seishiro apart to have us make sure you were alright to get home by yourself, which you were not by the way, hence the hotel I’ve checked us into. Anyways, pulling Seishiro and I apart is not an easy feat.”

Sae rolls his eyes, but his heart picks up its pace slightly. “So he’d rather I didn’t choke on my own vomit and die in a gutter somewhere; I’m flattered, truly.”

Reo’s frustration finally boils over at Sae’s apparent nonchalance. “I’m trying to help you right now! Do you want to get back together with him or not?” At Sae’s hesitation, Reo’s nostrils flare. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to yourself right now. I see the way you look at him. How do you think I realised it wasn’t just a one-sided little crush on Ryuusei’s part? It’s okay to be afraid.” Sae scoffs at that, but Reo bulldozes on, unphased. “It’s not okay to give up without even trying because of that fear though.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Sae snarls, “I fucking tried, and he turned around and told me he wants nothing to do with me.”

“So try again!” Reo exclaims. “Did you think it was going to be easy? Do you think that whatever you’ve put Ryuusei through for the past year has been anything close to easy?” He exhales, and the fire in him goes out with it. “Listen Sae, I wouldn’t be encouraging you if I didn’t think there was a chance for you two to be together, to be happy together. Maybe I can’t force you to do anything, but I’m not going to let you cling onto the easy excuse of ‘he hates me, so the decision’s already been made’ because I know for a fact that it’s not true. It’s your choice at the end of day. Shidou has chosen you so many times though, don’t you think you owe it to him to choose him once more?” Reo gets up, and walks over to shake Nagi out of sleep. Sae takes it for the dismissal it is.

He can’t bring himself to thank Reo, but before he slips through the door he says over his shoulder, “It’s good that the demon has a friend like you.”

Sae has a habit of running late to things. It’s not that he’s particularly disorganised — he has a diary filled to the brim with his numerous cosmetic appointments — it’s more due to a general lack of respect for the time of most of the people he’s forced to interact with. Manchester United however, has proven itself worthy of his respect, so when he finds himself running late to practice he allows himself to feel slightly stressed over the matter. The main subject of his stress though is Shidou, or more specifically, Shidou’s return to the team.

The weeks of not seeing Shidou had stretched impossibly long and Sae found himself fighting the urge to show up at the man’s apartment unannounced many a time. However, now that he’s faced with the prospect of actually seeing him, he finds himself faltering — not falling, because that sounds a tad too pathetic, and he’s been pathetic enough in the past month to last a lifetime.

As he drives to the club his mind cycles through a multitude of different scenarios, none of them pleasant, and he wonders if this is his reckoning for never going through the crazed teenage crushing phase: pining is much more embarrassing at twenty one than twelve.

He arrives at practice to find that his coach is nowhere to be found, and instead their captain is leading them through warmup drills. Sae slows his pace at this, knowing he’s been let off for his tardiness before he even joins the group; few people have the bravery to scold Sae Itoshi, let alone a teammate he’s more skilled than, captain or not. 

As has been the case for the past few weeks, the team operates sluggishly, stuttering and weak, but there, waiting for the explosion that will jar them back into motion. Said explosion comes twenty minutes later, flanked by physiotherapists. “It’s my head that got fucked up, not my legs! I don’t need you guys hovering ‘round me like I’m about to fucking collapse.” Shidou snaps. Simultaneously, the team stills, and then, motion. 

Sae watches the team swarm Shidou, animated and alive, and he feels an odd twinge in his chest, despite having not pushed too hard in warmups. Eventually, expectant looks turn towards Sae, because monopolising Shidou’s attention when Sae is around is next to impossible. Everyone looks to the supernova that is Shidou, and Shidou looks to Sae — it’s a fact of life. Yet Shidou isn’t looking at Sae, well now he is, but not in that way that he does, not in the way that says, ‘I see you and I still want you’, not in the way he did their first time playing together, the look saying, ‘I don’t know you, but I know I want you’, and the atmosphere is turning sour, and awkward, and the tension has to break, and—

“Okay, wrap it up you guys!” Their coach shouts. “We’ve got a match to prepare for.”

Slowly, everyone disperses and Sae is torn between relief and irritation at their little reunion being cut short. Practice is fine, it’s better than fine, because Shidou is back and his energy is boundless, and volatile, and impossible to ignore. Still, when Sae and Shidou are playing on the pitch together, ‘fine’ is typically not the word used to encompass the sheer beauty of their chemical reaction. Shidou must realise this, absent memories or not, because when the team is taking a quick water break he marches over to Sae, eyes blazing with determination.

“What the fuck is up with these passes?” Shidou asks, leaning into Sae’s space menacingly. Before all this, before the accident, Sae had been terrified of Shidou getting too close. Now though, he knows it’s Shidou going too far from him that is truly deserving of his fear, and as such, he welcomes the confrontation.

“My passes are perfect.” Sae replies automatically, because he knows that like he knows the earth is round, he’s spent endless hours ensuring it to be true.

“Perfect for who? I don’t want a pass that’s easy, that’s convenient. I want a pass that’s—”

“That’s going to fuel your explosion, that’s going to let you cement your legacy, let you taste freedom.”

Shidou stares at him for a few seconds in a daze, before he breathes out, “Exactly. You get it.”

“Of course I get it.” Sae says, because Shidou mumbles about it in his sleep for god’s sake, it’s impossible to consider yourself close to him and not get it, at least a little.

Shidou is still staring at him in awe though, and he says his next words almost in a trance, as if he’s reading a script Sae is not privy to, “You’re the first person to have ever understood my freedom.” Those words are familiar in a vague way and Sae’s heart quickens in anticipation, because if Shidou remembered that, then— “Not to bring your dreams crashing to the ground, or anything,” Shidou continues at Sae’s traitorous expression of hope, “but that was just something I remembered from our first ever match together, back in Blue Lock.” Sae deflates a little, and Shidou’s next words spill out quickly, “I can still feel it in my cells though, that you’re the one who understands it, who has ever, and will ever completely understand my freedom, my being.”

“Well, good for you, but. . .” Sae says, mimicking their first real conversation years ago. Something in Shidou gives at that and he returns to his previous line of questioning with a lot less vitriol, and a bit more compassion.

“So if you get it, why are you sending me these half-baked passes?”

Sae notes how their teammates have returned to practice, giving the pair a wide berth to talk to each other. “The last time I sent you a pass you ended up in hospital, Ryuusei.”

“And I’m out of the hospital now doing perfectly fine, aren’t I? I’m a big boy Sae; I’m fine with taking risks.”

“I know you are.” Sae retorts, the unspoken words hanging over the pair, that maybe Sae isn’t fine with Shidou taking risks like that.

“Let’s face it, you would start to hate me within a week if I turned into one of the meek Japanese footballers you travelled across the world to get away from.”

“I know.”

“So trust me.”

“I do.” 

“Trust us,” Shidou rectifies, “to not do whatever the hell fucked us up the last time we played together.”

“I’ll try.” Earnestly, Shidou raises his pinkie between them. Sae rolls his eyes, but his own pinkie rises up to interlock with Shidou’s. “I promise.”

Shidou doesn’t pull his finger back though. “I promise to try too, at being friends, because even though my head is all kinds of fucked up right now, I can’t deny the massive part of me that hated myself for hurting you that night.” 

Between the two of them, Shidou has always been the one better with emotions, it isn’t particularly hard with Sae as his competition. Regardless, Sae had presumed they would both choose to ignore that entire night in Mayfair, if Shidou was even capable of remembering it after the fact. Once again however, Shidou has exceeded his expectations. 

Friends isn’t anything close to what they had been before, but it’s better than what they had been under Mayfair’s cool street lights, so he nods at Shidou, and lets a tiny smile pull at his lips.

Shidou’s official return to the team had been a roaring success to say the least. Despite his loud and violent protests, he had been a substitute for his first match back. However, within the half hour that he was on the pitch, assisted with Sae’s brilliant passes, he managed to completely turn the tide of the match. Going out to celebrate Shidou’s return and their absolute victory against Tottenham was a natural course of action. However, the practice scheduled for the next morning meant the team set out to a restaurant, not a nightclub.

Sae finds himself seated in a booth, right between Shidou and a wall. Opposite him sits Aiku, and to the right of Aiku is Reo. Somehow, Nagi has squeezed his way into their group outing, and is pressed to Reo’s other side. The rest of the team are further down the booth chattering boisterously; Sae tries to let their rowdy noises dim his senses enough to not focus so closely on the press of Shidou’s body against his own. 

Sae is used to practicing restraint in public in regards to their relationship, and he’s good at it too. Shidou was always the one trying to sneak a hand onto his thigh under a table and Sae was always stopping him, never giving in. However, back then he knew what awaited him mere hours later: mind blowing sex in Shidou’s king sized bed. Now he knows all that awaits him is cold, empty sheets, he knows this is the closest he will be to Shidou for a while, and he knows he can’t do anything about it. Friends don’t lose their cool over a tight seating arrangement though, and that’s what Shidou wants them to be — friends.

Their food arriving is a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it gives Sae something else to focus on and enjoy, because Reo really knows how to choose a restaurant. On the other hand, it means with everyone focused on eating, there’s less distraction in the form of talking. It also means Sae is subjected to hearing Shidou’s ridiculous moans as he digs into his food. Sae is embarrassed to find his neck warming at Shidou’s lewd noises, the weeks of not having sex finally catching up to him.

Shidou’s pink eyes catch his, and he asks with that permanent smirk fixed on his face, “You alright over there, Sae?”

The man in question narrows his eyes, trying to work out if he’s being fucked with, or if this is how Shidou actually interacts with his friends sometimes. Sae’s never seen him flirt with friends before, but considering how seriously he took their relationship, that tells him nothing. Sae is saved from figuring out a response by Reo dragging Shidou into a conversation about motorcycle engines. The thought of Shidou’s beloved deathtrap dampens Sae’s arousal pretty quickly after that.

As the meal draws on, and some players risk ordering themselves a desert and hoping their coach doesn’t find out, Sae begins to relax in his seat — maybe being friends with Shidou won’t be so hard. Sae watches absently as Shidou piles Sae’s fries onto his own plate, now that he’s finished with his steak.

“Why do you always let him steal your fries?” Aiku whines, “You snapped at me for trying that like five minutes ago.”

“That’s because he hates you more than he hates French fries.” Shidou says on behalf of Sae, laughing at Aiku’s overly wounded expression. 

Sae’s eyes slide over to Shidou, peering at him closely. He’s about to speak when Reo cuts in, “I heard the managers are writing up a contract for a new defender. It’s supposed to be super hush-hush, but you know how the staff gossip.” The group begins to discuss potential players and the French fry debacle is left behind.

When it comes time to split the bill, a mini fight breaks out over Shidou’s share, everyone fighting to put their card down as Shidou basks in the attention. When the waiter announces that it’s already been covered, they all eye each other with suspicion. Reo’s perceptive gaze latches onto Sae, a question in the quirk of his brow. Sae ignores him, but a grin pulls at Reo’s cheeks nonetheless.

Shidou wraps Sae up in a hug before they all depart and the familiarity of it has Sae clinging on for an unnecessarily long time. When they finally pull apart, Shidou boasts, “I’m an amazing hugger, aren’t I?”

“Your only competition is Rin from like ten years ago, so. . .”

“So I’m the best hug you’ve ever had — even better.” Shidou declares, smirking. Then, he leans in for another quick embrace, because he’s tactile like that. Afterwards, he clambers onto his hot pink motorbike, and rides off; Sae hears the roar of the engine long after he's left his field of view.

On the drive home, Sae catches himself tapping his fingers to a tune playing on the radio and he doesn’t even mute it. The prospect of only being Shidou’s friend seemed a lot more agonising when it was first proposed. The avarice constantly nipping at his heels, demanding he chase more, more, more, isn’t sated, but it’s easier to ignore. If this is the way to stay close to Shidou and make do on his promise, then he endeavours to hold the opportunity close and not let go.

When Sae arrives home, he immediately goes to change out of his clothes. Instead of donning one of Shidou’s dinosaur tees as has been his custom for the past few weeks, he throws on his own pajamas. He resolves himself to return all of Shidou’s clothes soon, velociraptor tee and all. Initially, he had held onto them fearing that if he gave them back he would be letting go of the last piece of Shidou he was free to hold, that it would truly be the end so to speak. Fortified by their healing relationship however, he decides it’s time to give back what’s not his. Also, Shidou’s scent has faded from most of the clothes. 

Typically, Sae loves his schedule. When the vast majority of the population are unoccupied and looking to relax is when he’s called to work, and whilst everyone’s slaving away in an office, he’s enjoying his free time. Now however, he finds himself lamenting this fact as the empty roads cut the time it takes to drive to Shidou’s apartment in half. He’s usually so good at letting go, but of course it’s a small bag of Shidou’s things that gets the better of him.

When he pulls up into his parking space he doesn’t allow himself to linger. He makes his way to the elevator, swinging the duffle bag onto a shoulder as he goes. It’s light on account of the fact that Shidou has never actually been to Sae’s house; the only things in it are clothes of Shidou’s that Sae wore home and never returned. 

He lets himself into the apartment, slipping off his shoes as he calls out Shidou’s name. At the lack of response, Sae considers leaving the bag on the floor with the key on top, but the smell of paint has him wandering further inside, curious — he never pegged Shidou as an artist.

He finds the balcony empty, as are the living areas and both bedrooms. He pokes his head into the half bathroom and sees that it’s vacant too, leaving only one more room — the one Shidou vaguely referred to as ‘storage’ the first and only time Sae asked him about it. He eases the door open. 

The duffle bag falls from his grasp. 

There Shidou is, naked, with headphones covering his ears as he belts out a song, swaying his hips to an unheard beat. This is not what has his heart stilling in his chest though, no. What makes him rub at his eyes, as if the scene before him will too be rubbed away when he next opens them, is the sight of himself, everywhere.

The first painting he zeroes in on is small, just Sae’s face slack in sleep, hair lying messily on his head. The next is larger, full body: Sae is sat on a throne, eyes condescending, as if he is looking down on the viewer. Then, Sae’s eyes swivel to one of himself lying naked on his front, and Shidou even got the weird curve of his asscrack right, from where he broke his tailbone when he was twelve. There’s so many; some sketches, some varnished, some clearly abandoned. However, they all have this ethereal quality to them, as if the painter recognised the subject as not of this world, above it, but couldn’t help attempting to drag them down onto the canvas anyways. 

Sae sees himself how Shidou sees him, and the swell of emotion that rises within him threatens to drown him. Terrifyingly, he wants it to, oh how we wants. Then, Shidou moves to the side and Sae remembers the scene he sees immortalised before him.

The pair had been on the balcony, the cake Sae had spent an embarrassingly long time perfecting was smeared over their faces, because Sae usually considered himself too mature for something like a food fight, but he was certainly not too mature to make sure he got the last laugh. Shidou was beneath him, shrieking about mercy in between peals of laughter, or cackling, in his case.

“I win.” Sae smirked, leaning closer. “Say it.”

Shidou gulped, pupils dilating. “You win.” 

Sae leaned in even closer then, their lips just a breath apart. Shidou’s eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, full lips parting, and then Sae rubbed a piece of cake off of his own cheek, and stuck it into Shidou’s mouth. He laughed maniacally as he did, because that was so, so easy to do around Shidou, to laugh. “Happy birthday, demon.” He said eventually, and then he leaned down to kiss the pout off of Shidou’s lips. 

Abruptly, Shidou stills next to the canvas and turns around to stare right at Sae; the distinct expression of guilt on his face confirms what Sae has already pieced together. Shidou remembered: he remembered the past year, the relationship they shared, and spoke nothing of it.