Chapter Text
Autumn's whisper to the heart.
The dry air lingers, the midsummer day stalls, caught at the edge of seasons. The wanderer halts at the beginning of autumn, lightly soaking in the scattered, endless traces of withering. Gentle sunlight hangs upside down from the branches, casting a gloomy sheen over autumn’s surface. The faint mustiness of dry grass brushes beneath, mingling with the earthy scent rising from old soil.
Green leaves begin to change color, and a light drizzle brushes past, landing softly on his fingertips. His long, curled lashes blink slightly, turquoise eyes narrowing as a breeze sweeps past, dust settling lightly on his lashes. The crimson wedding invitation is gripped tightly in his hand, the creases distorted and wrinkled, yet the italic print remains clear.
[The groom, Itoshi Rin, and the bride, Makino Nigiri, cordially invite you.]
Isagi Yoichi is twenty-five this year. Itoshi Rin, twenty-four.
Reflecting in his eyes are only four words: groom Itoshi Rin. Isagi Yoichi exhales slowly and evenly. He likes autumn, when clouds gather and hide the harsh summer rays, when the heat withdraws and all that’s left is a faint, fleeting breath. He likes watching the end of daybreak, though he doesn’t remember when it became a habit.
What remains after the first seasonal rain?
Even as each heavy drop strikes his shoulder, soaking his green hair into clumps, and the crimson invitation stains with watermarks, Isagi Yoichi has no intention of leaving. No one else is around. A person’s soul is a reservoir; he tilts his head upward, wanting to fill his mind, to rinse away the memories of long ago.
Because the boy who always acted like the world had wronged him now holds someone dear, shares his burdens with the one he lies beside at night.
Since when did those turquoise eyes stop looking at the number 11 striker? Isagi Yoichi doesn’t know. He suddenly realizes that maybe he never truly understood that person. The line between them was always blurry, and neither ever stepped forward.
Itoshi Rin’s youth was sacrificed to remain beside his older brother, Itoshi Sae—even if it meant abandoning an unfinished career.
Itoshi Rin can no longer play football.
The one who brought Rin to a halt, the one who made him fall while at the peak of his career, ironically, was Itoshi Sae. The sky that day was so blue, the field echoed with cheers that now remain only as a shadowy memory. The single image seared into Isagi’s mind is Rin collapsing onto the artificial turf, eyes shut, sweat-soaked, nearly fainting. He clutched his right leg so tightly, in so much pain he couldn’t form words, gasping in helplessness.
Itoshi Rin’s gentleness will always belong to Sae. So much so that, to avoid colliding with his brother and injuring him, Rin twisted mid-air, changing his landing angle, going against the body’s natural reflexes. In that moment, his right knee, still nursing an old injury, bore the full weight of the twist and the ligament snapped.
Isagi Yoichi, the person closest to Rin, still remembers the sight of Rin collapsing face-first onto the grass, pale and trembling. Yet Rin's gaze was still on Sae, who remained expressionless even as his brother fell.
All of them, back then, were young and carefree. They naïvely believed it was just a regular injury, that Rin would come back, play again with Blue Lock, fight side by side for Japan’s second World Cup.
And yet, that turned out to be the last time Isagi Yoichi saw Rin play football. The prodigy from Japan, the unstoppable machine, the rising star, gradually faded under an irreversible injury.
There are countless footballers whose careers end due to injury. Isagi Yoichi has lost count. He never thought Itoshi Rin would become one of the unlucky ones. He doesn’t dare imagine a day when he himself can no longer stand on the field.
A galaxy of stars stretches endlessly, and when one disappears, no one notices. They all get swept away by newer joys, forgetting the sky that once warmed them.
Isagi Yoichi knows, those turquoise eyes never once truly looked at him.
But he followed their light.
Every blink, every furrowed brow, every slight smirk when they linked up to score, etched deep in Isagi’s memory. Sleepless nights haunted him with memories of the days Rin was still in the team, still on the field, still playing football, and still so arrogantly confident.
The only way to get Rin to notice him was to defeat him. To make Rin unable to ignore the blue jersey numbered 11 that Isagi always wore. Pride has its price. What Rin yearned for was the number 11 striker, not Isagi Yoichi.
This self-centered Isagi Yoichi, however, has never once stopped looking at Itoshi Rin. Their only connection existed on the field. The clashes, the rivalry, the shared plays—they nurtured their bond. Off the field, they were nothing. But on it, they were eternal rivals and perfect teammates.
Now that bond is gone, and they’re back to where it all began, with no common ground, no conclusion, and no true beginning.
Rin likes autumn.
The rain has stopped. Isagi Yoichi remains seated on the damp wooden bench, faintly smelling the earthy scent of soaked soil. A breeze blows through, making him shiver. His heart and mind split into separate paths, his whole body trembling in the crisp onset of autumn. Yet his heart longs to witness just a bit more of the fading season.
Perhaps, if luck allows, the person far away is watching the same sky.
After winter comes summer, after summer comes fall, after fall comes winter, and then the first hint of spring.
Autumn is the beginning of decay, but also the end of long, suffocating days. It takes away the lush green of summer, and brings the soft hues that precede spring’s arrival.
Strangely enough, the first time Isagi Yoichi realized he had feelings for Rin was also on a late autumn afternoon, just before winter arrived, back when Rin was still on the team. They spent autumn together in Spain, just a regular outing, between teammates.
That gentle feeling quietly warmed him, slowly ate away at his heart. Isagi didn’t even notice that every time Rin’s name was mentioned, his eyes would curve slightly, and a smile would unconsciously tug at his lips.
It happened on a random autumn day.
It happened to be Itoshi Rin.
It happened to be the two of them.
Maybe fate brought them here, just so Isagi could carry this secret longing.
Rin likes autumn for what it is.
But Isagi Yoichi likes autumn because of Itoshi Rin.
Autumn is both beginning and end.
We are two sides of the same coin.
"Did you get Rin-chan’s wedding invitation?"
Bachira held the white card in his hand, filled with disbelief. He kept repeating the question over and over, rambling without pause, living up to the nickname “chattering bee” Rin once gave him. Isagi Yoichi unconsciously recalled that memory and swallowed the bitterness down his throat before replying in a hoarse voice.
"I did. I'm preparing to return to Japan."
"Yeah, I had to file for leave, too. Never thought Rin-chan would be the first one to get married."
"People change."
Whether Isagi Yoichi was saying that to Bachira Meguru or questioning himself, he wasn’t sure. All things are impermanent. Human lives are finite. No one can promise they’ll stay the same. Change is what makes us human.
The injury that year split the path between them in two. Itoshi Rin walked down a road Isagi Yoichi could never reach. And Isagi kept running, sprinting through what remained of his own road. Even without the number 10 on the field, even when the turquoise glow could no longer bring destruction, even as the world flashed then crumbled, casting off his fragile ideals, he moved forward.
If he stopped, Rin would surely look at him with scorn and spit out sharp words that cut like knives.
"You shallow idiot."
"I'll be back on the field. Don’t make that funeral face."
That promise might have been swept away by the autumn wind. In the 2021 UEFA Champions League season, Isagi Yoichi and Bastard München narrowly defeated REAL with a risky 4–3 win, claiming their first Champions League title. It became a golden milestone in the already illustrious career of the young striker from Japan. Meanwhile, in another lonely corner of the world, Itoshi Rin’s first recovery surgery failed. As Isagi rose higher step by step, Rin was pulled deeper into the abyss.
While Isagi was tangled in overseas schedules, returning to Japan only a few times a year, he remained faithful to their promise. He never looked back. He just kept going, higher and higher, waiting for the turquoise light to reappear, hoping that when it did, Rin would see him first—Isagi Yoichi.
The media often said that a genius mourned another genius. Every year on September 9, Itoshi Rin’s birthday, Isagi handcrafted a small gift and personally delivered it to the one who had already left the sport behind.
He never missed a year. He never forgot.
Their promise lingered in both hearts like an unfinished love song. Isagi Yoichi never stopped hoping for a future where they’d run together on the pitch, competing, clashing, tearing each other apart.
But reality struck like cold water. Rin’s second surgery failed. The long years seemed to wear away their youthful recklessness. The older we get, the less joy we carry. Isagi had once been one of Rin’s few important people. Back then, all they had was football. The ball was their only link.
Their fate had already unraveled long ago.
Each birthday, when they met, Rin would hurl teasing remarks at him, but mostly to encourage him to keep going, to wait, to wait for his return. They shared a nameless vow. No one witnessed it. It quietly slumbered. Isagi Yoichi was tired. Sometimes he felt he was the only one who remembered that late-autumn afternoon. He told himself: once autumn passes, spring will come. Just like Rin, Isagi waited for someone who never looked back. His spring fruit ripened through nine seasons because of Rin, but Rin clung to autumn. What else could he do? He waited for autumn to let go, for spring to arrive for him.
"Who's shallow now?"
Isagi Yoichi whispered, either to himself or perhaps to a memory of the arrogant boy with broken wings who still mocked him so easily. Tears escaped the corners of his eyes. Isagi Yoichi was far more fragile than anyone thought. He remembered how his vision blurred even when Nagi was eliminated. When tragedy struck Rin, the dark clouds overwhelmed the sky. Autumn faded into gray. Isagi’s world turned to ash. But he rose again because Rin told him to keep moving. He didn’t know where he was going. He just kept walking toward the end.
He waited for him.
Isagi Yoichi was still waiting for Itoshi Rin.
"Don’t give up on football."
That was all Isagi ever wrote in his birthday letters, usually tucked deep beneath the gift. Rin was Rin. Isagi knew he would never give up.
Winter returned. Perhaps fate had a sense of irony. The day of Rin’s third surgery was also the day Isagi played in the Champions League final, now as a representative of REAL. And it was by his own feet that he ended Bastard München’s glory, the very club he had built. He carved out a new legacy with REAL, rising to become one of the greatest players of the century. With an assist from Itoshi Sae, the media hailed them as the most beautiful duo in sports.
No one expected that just before the World Cup, Itoshi Sae would announce his retirement. He gave up his dream of becoming the world’s greatest midfielder—for the younger brother who now had no chance of returning to the pitch. No miracle happened. Itoshi Rin’s legs were gone forever.
Sae had accidentally destroyed Rin’s future.
And in return, Sae abandoned his own dream.
Isagi Yoichi laughed. He didn’t know what else to do. He just wanted to lie down and sleep, to wake up and find it had all been a dream. That Rin’s surgery succeeded, that Rin was ready to return, and that his teammate Sae would join him in the World Cup.
Perhaps life is the cruelest comedy. Promises buried, vows forgotten. He waited for the number 10 to return. He waited for someone to fight for the captain’s armband. He waited for the turquoise light to shine again.
Winter buried the promises of youth. All he could do was watch Rin’s sunset.
Could he still say things like “Don’t give up” or “Hang in there”? Isagi Yoichi answered, “No.” The third surgery failed. The miracle never came. Even knowing hope was thin, Isagi had once sworn to the gods with all his heart, begging them to let Rin run again. His youth was cut short. It was unfair, tragic, and somewhere deep inside, Isagi even found it infuriating.
Because it had been Rin’s choice. Rin chose to protect Sae at the cost of his own body. Sadly, he never realized it would be the last time he stood on the field. That goal became the last of his career.
Summer had arrived, winter passed. The last breath of autumn smothered the blinding summer sun. For Rin’s birthday that year, Isagi Yoichi sent no gift, no message. He didn’t know what to give. He didn’t know what to say. Their relationship had frozen, shattered into pieces too jagged to mend.
Itoshi Rin had broken his promise.
“Liar.”
Isagi said it a hundred times. He hit his own forehead against the wall, repeating the meaningless action. He reached toward the desk and touched the photograph—taken when they won the U20 World Cup. Isagi Yoichi and Itoshi Rin stood side by side. The height difference made Isagi look small. He stood on tiptoe, wrapped an arm around Rin’s neck, pulling their faces closer. Even in the photo, you could see Rin’s annoyed expression.
He flung the frame to the floor. Staring blankly, Isagi looked out the window, then back at the wooden frame facedown on the ground. His lashes were wet, his head bowed low.
“Liar…”
For the first time, Isagi Yoichi learned he could hate someone so deeply. Every expression, every gesture, every smile that once made his heart flutter now pierced his eyes. He wanted to erase Itoshi Rin from his life.
If only we had never met.
Now I understand why you hate winter. I hate winter too.
Winter stripped me bare. It forced me to face reality. It crushed the dreams I nurtured so desperately.
But I still can’t forget you.
Not once. Not even for a moment.
Itoshi Rin.
If only we had never met.
Etched into his gaze was the waning light of his own ruin.
Etched deep in his gaze was the waning light of his own ruin.
Isagi Yoichi waited for autumn to pass. The wedding invitation sent to him was red. For the other members of Blue Lock, it was white. He didn’t understand the difference. He only knew that he was different from them. In Itoshi Rin’s eyes, he wasn’t just another teammate. Maybe a best friend. Maybe a rival. Maybe something else entirely. But never love. Because the prideful affection of someone like Isagi had always been one-sided.
Then he thought of Itoshi Sae.
He wondered if Rin's feelings for Sae had become the heaviest burden in the young midfielder's life. When Sae was on the same team as Isagi, he never stayed to celebrate after a match. He booked a flight straight back to Japan. It became an unspoken rule everyone understood. Sae did it for someone. He made that sacrifice for someone. He repeated it a hundred times, guilt gnawing at his heart, weighing on his shoulders, forbidding him to enjoy football again.
Itoshi Sae couldn’t step over the future of his little brother.
Collapse came from within. The young midfielder couldn’t go on. Rin became the knot lodged in Sae’s soul. He couldn’t overcome it. His feet stopped running. And just like how he gave up on being the world’s best striker, Sae let go of his dream as a midfielder too.
Honestly, Isagi Yoichi didn’t know what to do. He had no right to judge anyone. He was just an outsider. Who was he to evaluate Itoshi Sae’s choices?
There was another reason Isagi hadn’t yet realized.
He was breaking apart.
The flight from Spain to Japan lasted 15 hours. Old memories played on repeat in Isagi's mind. He flew with Bachira, who was happily chatting away. Isagi only smiled, unsure what to say.
"You still like Rin, don’t you?"
Bachira paused, then asked.
"Huh? What?" Isagi flinched, nearly standing up. Looking at Bachira, he knew his best friend wasn’t joking like usual.
"Everyone knows. That you like Rin. I only said it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I guess it didn’t help much, huh?"
Bachira placed a hand over Isagi's eyes and whispered.
"If you want to cry, just cry."
His vision darkened. Isagi slowly shook his head and removed Bachira’s hand.
"I don’t like him anymore." A lie.
"I was just shocked. Didn’t think he’d get married so soon." A lie.
"Really. It’s fine. I already prepared my gift. It’s been so long, how could I still like him?" A lie.
"If you say so, I’ll believe you," Bachira replied, though he knew the truth. He didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t know how to start telling Isagi the truth about Rin.
Since last year, Isagi hadn’t visited Rin with the others. So there were things he didn’t know, and no one dared tell him. They kept silent, hoping for a miracle. But no miracle ever came.
"Get some sleep. The flight’s still long. We’ll see Chigiri and Reo soon."
Isagi told Bachira to sleep. His friend had dark circles under his eyes, likely from excitement over the wedding. Isagi hadn’t slept the night before either. He had done his makeup early, preparing to attend Rin’s wedding. No matter the turmoil in his heart, he had to look his best.
He thought, he must offer his blessing.
Itoshi Rin had found happiness. As a teammate, Isagi Yoichi should be glad.
"You’re the one who needs sleep, Isagi-chan. I saw you up till 6 a.m. Everyone knows you couldn’t sleep."
"As long as Rin doesn’t know, it’s fine." Isagi sighed and put on his headphones.
"See? You still like Rin-chan." Bachira said, arms folded. He continued making small jokes to lift Isagi’s mood. Thanks to him, the flight didn’t feel so long. Isagi finally relaxed and dozed off. He had been holding on so tightly, thinking if he didn’t sleep, tomorrow wouldn’t come. That he wouldn’t have to face Rin.
Bachira draped his jacket over Isagi and covered his face with his hands, disgusted with himself. Their relationships had drifted beyond saving. All of them. Sooner or later, Isagi would learn the truth. As a friend, Bachira only hoped that day came a little later.
"They’re here," Reo said, rubbing his shoulders. He glanced at the energetic Chigiri and couldn’t help complaining, "You’re so full of energy, even after a red-eye flight."
"It’s been too long. I wonder how they’re doing now," Chigiri replied, holding up his phone to snap a photo. Since getting unrestricted phone access, he was the most active online. Blue Lock fans could only gather updates from his posts, making his account incredibly popular.
The photo he took, though blurry, immediately hit 20k likes. Everyone was still crazy over the most beautiful striker duo in the world.
It used to be Itoshi Sae and Isagi Yoichi.
After Sae retired, Bachira and Yoichi became the media’s new obsession. Countless headlines praised their chemistry on the field.
"Best duo in football, huh? Sounds fun." Bachira chuckled while reading the comments on Chigiri’s phone. They were riding in Mikage’s car. Reo leaned against the window, eyes distant.
"Nagi got a serious injury recently. Surgery went well, but recovery will take a while," Chigiri explained. Isagi hadn’t been paying much attention lately. News of Nagi’s injury had been suppressed, so only a few people knew the real reason behind Reo and Nagi’s silence.
"Just like Rin back then..." Chigiri trailed off. He had spoken too soon and quickly covered his mouth, watching Isagi’s reaction.
But unlike the others, Isagi calmly leaned back and asked,
"Why don’t you finish your sentence?"
He repeated,
"It’s nothing."
Reo lost his composure. Grabbing Isagi by the collar, he forced him to look at his reflection in the car window. Outside was a blur of people, but Isagi saw only gray. His once-bright sapphire eyes were now empty and dull. He reached toward his reflection, only to pull back.
He looked pathetic.
He had never been okay.
Reo wasn’t the hotheaded type, but even he couldn’t hold back. Isagi now was exactly how Reo had been before. The difference was, Nagi had recovered. Rin hadn’t. And worse, they had all kept Rin’s condition a secret from Isagi.
"Rin doesn’t remember the past few years."
"Sorry for not telling you earlier. We only found out around his birthday last year."
They all knew about Isagi’s feelings for Rin. And none of them had the heart to tell him the truth. Only Isagi couldn’t accept it.
No one knew what drove Yoichi to push himself harder than anyone else. But it was definitely because of Rin.
"We thought he’d recover eventually. The doctors said it was due to anesthesia and psychological trauma."
Reo’s voice grew smaller.
"We didn’t expect it to last this long."
"We didn’t know how to tell you."
Half of Isagi’s face disappeared into shadow. He tilted his head back, exhaling quietly. Darkness clouded his lost gaze. He wanted to laugh. Laugh at his own foolishness. What was he supposed to say now? He breathed slowly, chest rising and falling. Calm. Clear. Yet tears slipped down, veiling his eyes.
He couldn’t forget. He never dared forget. He never could.
The promise. The pitch. How much did Rin still remember?
Isagi covered his eyes with both hands. Maybe he should be glad he wouldn’t cry at Rin’s wedding. He just needed a little time. Just a little.
Late autumn drifting into winter. I liked you. And that feeling was buried beneath falling maple leaves, floating aimlessly in the wind. It soared, then one day, it fell.
Early autumn when summer fades, the leaves hadn’t even changed color before they were torn off and crushed.
To Isagi Yoichi, Rin could break the promise. But he couldn’t forget it. What kept the world’s number one striker going was a ridiculous promise. And yet Isagi held on. He reached the end of the road. He didn’t need his feelings returned. Because Rin had made a promise. Isagi believed, each time he turned back, Rin would be there. He clung to that illusion. Just because he believed.
Everyone has a breaking point.
Isagi screamed without sound. Each breath came ragged. Tears streamed down his face. He coughed, unable to breathe. Taking a cold towel from Bachira, he weakly asked:
"Is Rin okay now?"
"Of course it’s you," Reo sighed, wiping his face. Isagi’s eyes were red and wet.
"Worry about yourself first. Rin’s getting married."
"Then he’s okay," Isagi said. Maybe this was the only good news. Forgive him for crying over himself, for a love he never dared confess. He knew, forgetting was the best choice.
Hope walks hand in hand with despair.
The faith they placed in each other became Itoshi Rin’s heaviest burden.
Isagi Yoichi could endure. Rin could not. Maybe they were never meant to be. Isagi’s existence had stolen all the luck from Rin’s life—goals, draws, injuries. Each step Isagi climbed was a step Rin had to fall.
Forget it all. The burden. The trust.
And forget me.
No more me. No more autumn.
I liked the twilight because I could be myself in it.
Not just you. Not just me. All of us are fading.
"Don’t remember. Don’t think back."
Was it for himself or for Rin? It no longer mattered.
"Feeling better, Isagi-chan?" Bachira held a cold soda to his cheek. Isagi took a sip.
"Thanks."
"Cheer up, Isagi-chan."
"Today’s Rin’s big day," Chigiri said, opening his can.
"Let’s go drink after the wedding," Reo offered. Nagi’s injury had taken a toll. Today was a small relief.
After this, Reo and Nagi would retire. Everyone knew. They rarely played now. No transfer news. Chigiri’s legs couldn’t run like before. Bachira had joint issues from overtraining. For athletes, that was fatal.
So this rare gathering wasn’t just to celebrate Rin’s wedding.
It was a farewell.
A farewell for Blue Lock.
"Yeah. Let’s go together."
All of us are fading. Not just me. Not just you. All of us.
Words from my heart to you.
Isagi Yoichi was calmer than he expected. He watched Rin walk into the ceremony in a crisp white suit, beside a dazzling woman. She had light blue hair and sapphire eyes that mirrored Isagi’s own, and for a moment, seeing Rin reflected in those eyes, Isagi imagined it was him standing there. The ring slid gently onto her finger. Rin didn’t kiss her lips—he knelt and softly touched the ring’s edge with his lips, a gesture of elegance.
In Rin’s eyes, that girl had never existed.
And in Isagi’s eyes, no one had ever existed but Rin.
They had never made eye contact. Isagi Yoichi waited quietly for the wedding to end, waited for his own twilight. The fruit of spring had not ripened; she had taken the season away with her. That person was not me, could never be me, would never be mine.
Isagi scanned the crowd and stopped when he saw a familiar name: Itoshi Sae. The midfielder who had once been paired with him, who had retired just before the World Cup, giving up his title. The man whose choices had led Rin to bury his football career.
Sae saw Isagi too. He raised a glass in the distance and offered a faint, knowing smile.
Itoshi Sae was happy for Itoshi Rin.
Everyone could see that. Guests flocked to congratulate Sae, raised glasses to toast the couple, used the moment to flatter them both.
In a small corner, Isagi Yoichi stood alone, silent. He didn’t want to offer congratulations. The wine stuck in his throat, compliments clogged his voice. He wore a calm face, painting over his petty, aching heart with a polite mask.
He pretended to be cheerful. Guests came to greet him, many expressing veiled pity toward Rin. Isagi acted like he listened, but from beginning to end, he looked only at Rin—the one he didn’t have the courage to face.
They had never made eye contact. As he straightened his shirt, every move caught Sae’s eye. For reasons unknown, Sae pulled him aside.
Before Isagi could question him, Sae asked something that made him flinch.
“Do you still like Rin?”
It was a habit. Sae remembered those club events where they had to dress formally for media appearances. Isagi would always fix Rin’s collar, smooth wrinkles that weren’t even there, crack dumb jokes. Rin would complain with a scowl, but he would end up fixing Isagi’s outfit in return.
“Stop liking Rin,” Sae said plainly. He gave no explanation. None was intended. To Isagi Yoichi, it was a warning.
“Don’t be his burden anymore. He doesn’t remember you.”
“Don’t come back.”
“Don’t give him gifts anymore.”
A chain of don’ts shattered Isagi Yoichi’s expression into fragments. He had to quickly gather them; this was Rin’s wedding, after all. Isagi lowered his head, breathing in and out, gathering enough air to steady his chest. His emotions condensed into just two words:
“Why?”
Nonsense, he thought. Isagi considered himself weak, overly emotional. He had accepted that. But Sae? Who was he to say this? Rin’s brother? Isagi never needed Sae in his journey. Deep down, perhaps there was bitterness, the kind Icarus felt watching his wings burn as he flew too close to the sun. In his heart, Isagi knew none of this was Sae’s fault. It was his own delusion.
But humans are creatures of contradiction, torn between reason and emotion. We know what’s right. We understand the consequences. Yet still, we act on impulse.
The scales in Isagi Yoichi tilted toward Rin. Emotion outweighed reason. A blank space followed, and fury rose to fill it.
“What the hell did you just say?”
“I said, don’t go near Rin again.” Sae repeated himself calmly, ignoring Isagi’s growing rage. He even closed his eyes, expecting a punch or a slap.
Isagi did nothing. He clenched his shirt hem, wrinkling the same folds he had just smoothed. His actions were always meaningless. Letting anger out wouldn’t change anything. Sae was baiting him, and Isagi no longer needed to know why. This was Rin’s wedding. Another place, another time, Isagi might have demanded answers.
But running away wouldn’t solve anything. Isagi had been running blindly, believing Rin was waiting for him. Now, looking back, he saw no one there. Just himself, all along.
“What are you two doing here?”
A familiar voice drifted in. Isagi looked up. Rin stood holding a glass of red wine, approaching them slowly. That faintly cheerful expression suggested he was in a good mood. Rin couldn’t quite see what they were doing. From afar, it probably just looked like a normal conversation. The only odd detail: Sae’s eyes were shut.
“Nothing,” Sae replied. “Just talking.”
Rin didn’t catch the strain in his tone. He handed Sae the glass, leaned in to whisper something. Isagi didn’t hear. He tried to slip away, but Rin stopped him.
Sae left, giving the two some space. Isagi remained silent, avoiding Rin’s gaze. They had never truly looked each other in the eye. Isagi Yoichi couldn’t face Itoshi Rin.
Once, they had been teammates.
Once, they had been rivals.
Now, they were nothing.
Old friends, maybe? Isagi forced a smile. Today was the hardest day of his life. He dropped his eyes to avoid Rin’s clear turquoise ones and asked:
“What is it?”
Rin didn’t let go of his hand. There was something different. This wasn’t the Rin Isagi had known. That Rin had never looked at him like this. Their relationship had no room for tenderness, only rivalry, hunger, obsession. They carved each other into art and offered goals as tribute.
Genius to genius. Isagi Yoichi to Itoshi Rin.
People say we crave what we can’t have. Opposites attract. Peace was never their ideal. Ego was. They were two forces on a collision course. I loved the whole of you, he thought. But this… this isn’t the Rin I waited for.
Even so, Isagi Yoichi knew, sometimes, forgetting is best.
But knowing doesn’t stop feeling.
“Isagi Yoichi,” Rin said softly. He repeated it.
“Isagi Yoichi.”
“I don’t really remember who you are. But I read the letters in your gift.”
This wasn’t Rin. Isagi fought to keep his composure and replied as casually as possible:
“It’s unfortunate about your injury.”
More than unfortunate.
“I sent those letters just to comfort an old teammate.”
Not just a teammate.
“You think I’m stupid?” Rin tugged gently at Isagi’s collar, forcing him to look into his eyes. Fire flickered through sapphire; ripples stirred beneath the surface. And Isagi realized, this was the first time they had truly locked eyes.
Rin leaned closer, lips parting slightly. Isagi’s heart pounded. Perhaps it was the face, it belonged to Rin, even if this wasn’t the Rin he’d waited for. People fall for appearances. We say it’s the personality that matters, but it’s never that simple.
“What do you want from me?” Isagi asked. “You’re the one who left. You don’t even remember me, do you?”
Us.
“I don’t.” Rin admitted. From his pocket, he pulled out a small item.
“This isn’t mine. I found it at home after the hospital. I think… it was meant for you.”
A message from the forgotten past.
Itoshi Rin lifted Isagi Yoichi’s hand and gently slid a ring onto his ring finger.
“Don’t wait for me.”
The version of me from before; I think he loved you. I’m just here to say goodbye, on his behalf.
Autumn is where we begin.
And where we end.
[End]