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Darkness.
That was the first thing Sae noticed when he woke from his sleep.
'What time is it?' he wondered as he squinted, trying to focus his blurry vision. He glanced around the room; it was still pitch-black. He stretched his hand toward the bedside table, picked up his phone, and checked the time. 3 AM. Yeah, still the middle of the night. Then he rolled over, expecting someone to be lying beside him, but the other side of the bed was empty—cold when his hand brushed against it.
Where is Shidou?
He clearly remembered the two of them falling asleep together the night before. So why is he gone now? He furrowed his brows in confusion before deciding to getting out of bed and stepping out of the bedroom.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, the harsh light made his eyes sting, still unused to anything but the darkness of the bedroom. Still groggy and heavy-limbed from sleep, he headed for the bathroom first—only to discover it was empty. He let out a quiet sigh and figured Shidou had gotten up for a late night snack, so he moved on toward the kitchen. But that room was empty as well. From there, he had a clear view of the adjoining living room, yet there was still no trace of anyone.
Where the hell is Shidou?
As he glanced around, he noticed a faint light coming from the balcony door. He made his way toward the open doorway and finally spotting the person he’d been searching for.
Shidou sat on the balcony chair with his back turned toward him, one arm propped on the table to support his head. His tan skin was bare against the cool night air, clad in nothing but his briefs. His hair was messy, as though he had just rolled out of bed and come straight here.
“Hey,” Sae called softly, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t startle him.
“Oh hey, Sae-chan. You kinda surprised me there. Why are you up?” Shidou said as he turned around, his usual grin firmly in place. He acted as if it were completely normal for someone to be sitting out on the balcony in the dead of night and without any clothes on. And this was during the middle of winter, too. But then again, this was Shidou. Sae wouldn’t exactly classify him as a normal person anyway. At least Sae had gone to bed wearing a sweater and slacks, otherwise, he’d be freezing his ass off.
“I should be the one asking you that. What are you doing out here?” Sae said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.
" Oh, nothing much. Just my usual inspiration hunt time♪”
“And you have to do that at midnight? Couldn’t it even wait until morning?” he asked, letting out a yawn. The drowsiness returned as all the tension from searching for him drained from his body.
“Nope. Like a lot of artists say, inspiration comes easier when nothing’s around to distract you.” He shook his head and wiggled a finger, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Also, did you know some constellations are clearer in winter?” Shidou pointed up at the sky and began rambling about stars and constellations.
Sae simply listened, giving a nod every now and then just enough to show he was still present, even if his mind wasn’t fully there. Normally, he didn’t mind letting Shidou go on and on about whatever came to mind. To be fair, some of it was genuinely interesting. For someone so flashy and dramatic, Shidou actually knew a lot about many things. Sae, on the other hand, couldn’t really relate as his brain was usually occupied with nothing but soccer. But right now, the exhaustion was starting to hit him hard, and he silently hoped Shidou would finish up soon so they could both crawl back into their warm, comfortable bed.
“Sae-chan, have you ever thought about quitting soccer?”…..What?
“What?” he replied, needing to make sure he’d heard correctly.
“I asked if you’ve ever considered stopping soccer altogether.” So he had heard right. But to be honest, with how sleepy he was and how he’d stopped paying attention to Shidou’s rambling, he had no idea what led to that question.
“No. Not really. Why?” Sae didn’t know why he felt thrown off by it. He already knew the answer would be no. Soccer was everything he knew—everything he had. It was something he’d shaped and mastered for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t even recall a time when he wasn’t playing. And he was pretty sure the media had asked him the same thing before. So why did this question unsettle him now? Was it simply because it was Shidou asking, and not some reporter?
“Just curious” Shidou said so casually—completely unaware that his question had almost given Sae a heart attack.
“What about you? Have you ever thought about it?” Sae shot the question back immediately. He also wanted to know if Shidou had been considering it, and that was why he asked Sae in the first place.
“Yeah, lately” Shidou said, turning sideways to face him. “I mean, nothing’s really wrong. The matches are still fun, my teammates don’t annoy me as much anymore, and the paycheck’s decent. But… it just doesn’t make me explode, you know?” His voice was quiet, and his expression unusually somber—though tinged with a kind of confusion, like he was still trying to figure out if his own feelings made sense.
Sae, unsure how to respond, simply nodded for him to go on. “Like I said, it just doesn’t thrill me the way it used to. Everything feels stagnant. You play, you win or you lose, you get paid. Rinse and repeat" He paused, as if debating whether to continue or not. "Gahh. Sorry, lashes. Just forget I said anything.” Then he lifted his hands in defeat, deciding to drop the topic.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve been there too.” For some reason, hearing Shidou speak so openly made Sae want to open up a little as well.
He pushed himself away from the doorway and moved to sit in the chair across from Shidou. He lifted his gaze to the sky, sensing his own emotions beginning to spill out. Maybe this was why Shidou liked being up at this hour—the half-asleep state lowered his guard and chipped away at his mask of indifference, making it easier to lay his feelings bare.
“Sometimes I feel the same. That dull, stagnant feeling. Like… what’s the point of doing something that doesn’t excite you anymore? But I can’t quit, because it’s the only thing I’ve been doing.” He could feel Shidou watching him, but Sae kept his gaze fixed ahead. He knew that if he looked at him now, he’d lose the nerve to keep talking.
“So I push through. I shove all my feelings and emotions down. As long as I still have my goal of becoming the best in the world, it means I still have a reason to play.” He turned to Shidou, meeting his eyes.
“But you’re different from me. Your goal isn’t to be the best. Soccer is something that gives you life. And if it can’t give you that anymore, then you have no reason to keep going,” he finished firmly.
Shidou’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting Sae to validate his feelings—let alone relate to him. “Haha. You’re saying some exciting stuff there, lashes. Man, you never fail to surprise me,” Shidou laughed. A deep, rich laugh. All the gloom from earlier disappeared, as if Sae’s words had sparked his energy back to life. It suited him, this lively expression. The dull, lifeless expression didn’t suit Shidou at all. That was more Sae’s trademark, not his.
He looked away. Instead of gazing back up at the sky, he shifted his gaze to the street below—still mostly deserted, with only a few people wandering past. He heard the scrape of a chair being pulled up next to him. An arm draped over his shoulder, warmth spilling across him at once, making him realize just how numb the cold night air had left him.
He felt a hand slip into his hair, gently guiding his head down to rest against a solid shoulder. He loosened up instantly, letting almost his entire weight settle there. And honestly, Shidou deserved it—he was the reason Sae was out here freezing instead of tucked into their warm bed. But of course, Shidou was strong enough to support him. He felt a faint brush of lips against his temple, followed by those same fingers lightly massaging his scalp. The gentle, repeated motion slowly lulled him back into drowsiness.
Sae knew they really should’ve returned to their room and maybe curled up together again until sleep took them. But wrapped in Shidou’s arms like this, all the cold he’d felt earlier faded away, and he found himself wanting the moment to last just a little longer.
The truth is, Sae has no idea what his future will look like—whether he’ll continue playing soccer or eventually leave it behind. He doesn’t know what direction Shidou’s future will take either. But as long as they stay together, Sae is sure they can face whatever lies ahead.