Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sae woke up with a headache and some neck pain.

It was normal by now. Sometimes, he wondered if every kid at his elementary school woke up in pain, but he figured that it was just “growing pains”. He heard other people’s parents talk about them all the time. Even if they made it hard to move sometimes, if everyone had them, it would just be weak to stop moving. Sae wasn’t weak. He’d force himself forward, step by step, and he’d go faster than everyone else, too. Even if every part of him was screaming, it was okay, as long as he kept going.

He rubbed his head and sat up, groaning. The sudden motion made him a bit dizzy, made his vision black out, but he was good at not reacting too strongly to it. That just caused a scene, made things more of a pain in the ass. He’d memorized how to get out of bed without being able to see, how to find his way to the closet to grab some clothes. That was enough. The blindness was always temporary, making it bearable. If he leaned his weight on the bedframe, the dizziness was fine, too. He could deal with it.

He regained his sight and balance as he finished getting on his clothes, near stumbling to the floor a few times through the process. He rubbed his eyes, yawning a bit. He wasn’t sure why he was so tired — he’d slept find last night, he thought. Well, whatever. Least of his issues. He could put on some coffee in the pot for himself. He nodded to himself, quite certain that that would fix all of it, before heading out into the kitchen quietly. He was soft on his feet to avoid waking Rin as he began to take out ingredients to serve breakfast. Mom was already gone, as was her boyfriend. Sae had to make sure to take care of it himself.

He’d just finished cooking rice for a traditional breakfast when his little brother slumped into the room, looking quite groggy himself. He slumped his way over to his older brother, pulling on his shirt. “Mm… Nii-chan…”

“What is it?” Sae asked, his eyes still focused on the food he was preparing and serving.

“Is Momma gone again?”

Sae sighed, looking down at Rin. He wasn’t sure why his younger brother acted so surprised every time. It wasn’t as though her work hours miraculously appeared out of nowhere. “She’s at work, Rin.”

“Mmh…” Rin nuzzled into Sae’s hip (which was elevated by the stool he used to reach some of the spices on the top cabinets). “I like you more than Momma or him.”

Sae’s hand stroked Rin’s hair as he finished plating the food, his passive. “I like you more too. Let’s keep that a secret though, okay?”

Rin nodded up at Sae. “Secret with nii-chan,” he parroted. 

“That’s right.” Sae offered out a plate of food gently. “Here’s breakfast.”

“Itadakimasu!” Rin said immediately. He took the food and scrambled off to the table to eat. Sae watched him for a moment, making sure that he got to his chair before grabbing his own plate of food and making his way to sit with his little brother. 

Sae went to sit down, wincing at a sharp pain that shot up his hip. He grit his teeth, his eyes shutting as it felt like his hip popped out of place. His hand immediately went to fix it, shoving the area around a bit until a satisfying pop sounded that ended with relief…

“Are you okay, nii-chan? Are you hurt?”

Rin had noticed. Usually he was bad at picking up on what other people felt. It must have written in bold print all over his face. Sae quickly nodded, schooling his features into neutrality. The same evenness he learned was best for everything.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

When Sae was brought to the pediatrician’s, he didn’t complain when he got called a girl. He wanted to, wanted to tell them that he wasn’t a girl. That would cause too much of a scene, though. His mother didn’t believe him, told him that he was confused. He wasn’t trans. He was depressed. (She kept saying this, yet she never seemed interested in getting him actually diagnosed with the disorder to fix him.)

In any case, when the words “Itoshi-san and her mother” got called, Sae got up, keeping his head down. 

The nurse was quick with her checks. Told him that the doctor would be in shortly. He kept his eyes trained to the floor, sitting up on the examination table. He swallowed, scratching at his arms anxiously. His mother scoffed and smacked his thigh, scowling at him. “Quit fidgeting, Sae,” she hissed. “You’re making a scene.”

Sae moved his hands into his lap, his feet twitching beneath him. His nerves were going haywire beneath his skin, making it feel like his body could fall apart from the sheer energy at any moment. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to run away. His mother rolled her eyes at his barely contained energy and went back to her seat near the door, beginning to scroll through her phone.

A moment later and the pediatrician, Kuupika, was in the room. She had a bright smile on her face as she looked down at Sae, adjusting her glasses. “There’s everyone’s favorite little girl. How are you doing today, Sae-chan?” she asked kindly, bending over slightly to be at a better level to speak to him.

Sae decided not to correct the woman on the girl comment. He would be good. He wouldn’t cause a scene, just like his mother wanted. “I’m… I’m doing okay, Kuupika-sensei,” he said, his face blank as ever. He tilted his head. “How are you?”

“Aren’t you sweet? I’m doing just fine, dear.” Kuupika gave him another bright grin. “If you’ll remove your clothes…”

Little Sae nodded — that was normal procedure, after all. His shirt fell to the floor along with his pants, leaving him in the polka-dot underwear he’d found in the back of one of his drawers. He looked past the doctor at the wall, trying to not glance down at his developing body which made him so uncomfortable or the woman whose eyes made him want to cover himself. His mother had finally put away her phone, watching her son with the doctor expectantly.

“Look this way.”

Sae forced his eyes to meet the doctor’s. A light shone in his eye as her hand, covered in latex and freezing, cupped his shoulder. There was something about it that always made Sae want to squirm, his throat tightening. (He wasn’t sure why. She was the family physician. There was no need to be uncomfortable.) His ears were next, done much quicker than his eyes, as though she didn’t want to look there much. 

She told him to open his mouth and he did easily. Her thumbs entered his mouth and felt his tongue, the tops of his teeth, the insides of his cheeks. It was as though she was memorizing the lay of the land to draw up a diagram later, always so thorough. Her fingers eventually exited the heat of his mouth, and she smiled once more. Sae looked away once again. 

“Lay down on the examination table, please.”

Sae nodded and kept his face blank as pushed himself onto the surface. The crinkling of the paper was as loud as a scream in his ear as he laid on his back, biting his lip. He was feeling a bit sick now. He didn’t say anything — this was a check-up, she didn’t want to hear about him being sick right now — but it was resting deep in his gut. Her fingers began to massage their way across his stomach, feeling each pocket of skin.

“How has school been, dear?” the doctor asked, her fingers pressing into the bottom of his stomach.

“I-It’s been okay,” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn’t exactly wrong — he got by, even if just barely. He didn’t care for academics much. His mind had always been only on soccer. (Well, soccer and taking care of Rin.) “My grades are decent.”

“That’s good…” Her fingers went higher, beginning to feel the budding breasts on his chest that he hated so much. She always said it was about checking for development. (She’d started doing it before puberty, for whatever reason.) “And you’re still doing soccer?” she asked, gloved fingertips grazing across his nipples.

Sae felt that weird feeling in his stomach he always got during these appointments, like someone had poured hot water inside him. “Yeah. We won a championship last season.”

“That’s amazing, sweetie! Good job!” She pulled her hands away and clapped them together to glance at his mother. “You must be very proud.”

His mother nodded. It wasn’t a lie, as far as Sae could tell; Her distance always faded a bit when he won something, giving him bits of attention when he did something good. People called him an overachiever, but he didn’t particularly care about the trophies or awards he got in themselves. He just liked how they made her look at him. Even if it took a bit more every time. “He did very well. He’ll be a top-notch star one of these days,” she said proudly.

Sae smiled a bit. She praised him. She hardly ever did that.

He could feel her eyes still on him as Kuupika’s fingers went back onto his body, back to the bottom of his stomach, lower. They sank between his legs, feeling at the smooth folds there. Her fingers pried them apart and felt between them, sending a jolt through Sae’s body. Some part of him wanted to kick her off, but he knew that it wasn’t right for him to do that. She was checking how it was developing. She was doing her job. If it were anything else, his mom wouldn’t let it happen, right? Even if she wasn’t around a lot of the time, she was there now, watching them like a hawk. This was how it was supposed to be.

Gloved fingers pressed into a place that made his vision fog up — not in the way he was used to when he stood up too fast. It was different, like a cloud swirling around his head. The way that only happened when he got touched like this. It was always so confusing. Why did it feel like that?

“And are you feeling okay? Sick or hurting at all?”

He couldn’t even focus on the nausea or pain with the fingers between his legs, though. The ones that kept exploring him every time he came back, his mom’s eyes boring into him with every second he was touched. And so he met the doctor’s gaze and nodded, even if it was hard.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Niiiiiiiiiii-chaaaaan.”

Sae sighed, looking up from his homework. Rin was laid out on the floor, his show having ended and leaving him bored. “Yes, Rin?” he asked, tapping his pencil against the surface of the table. Their parents were out again, leaving Rin in Sae’s care per usual. Which would be fine, except Rin’s energy was even more off the walls than usual and Sae had assignments to get done.

Rin pulled on Sae’s sleeve with a small pout. “Let’s play monster and hero.”

Again? It seemed like Rin wanted to play nothing else. “I need to finish my work. Maybe in a few minutes?”

The young boy’s frown deepened and he tugged Sae’s sleeve harder. “C’mon, can you do that later? I wanna play monster.”

“No, I need to get this in tomorrow morning to my teacher.”

“But—”

“Rin, the more you ask, the longer it’s going to take,” Sae replied calmly, glancing at the time. He brushed off his brother’s tiny hand Leigh a light hand. “Plus, if it takes too long, we won’t have time to play before dinner. If you wait patiently, I can play before then, okay?”

Rin’s eyes narrowed and he scampered away. Sae relaxed a bit in relief when he got his space, returning his effort to the page in front of him. He was almost done, luckily enough. He wasn’t sure of a lot of his answers, but he never really was. He would just have to turn it in and hope for the best. Generally, that worked well enough. He was good enough with patterns that it was usually not an issue, even if he just couldn’t get himself to put in the effort to actually understand what he was doing.

As he began to pencil in the last question’s answer tentatively, he heard a loud crash from their shared bedroom. Sae, assuming that Rin had gotten hurt, immediately dropped his work. He was careful when standing, knowing that letting himself leap up the way he wanted would nearly knock him out, and scampered over to the room. Did he seriously let his younger brother get hurt under his watch? Did he really allow this to happen?

It turned out, though, that Rin had been too rough with one of their larger toys, sending it crashing down to the floor and breaking it. He wasn’t hurt, standing to the side of the mess. He had that look on his face whenever he got too into playing rough or watching something with violent monsters, like he was in a trance. Sae swallowed and reached out, touching Rin’s shoulder. “Hey…”

Rin was silent at first, just staring blankly up into Sae’s eyes with a small bit of drool dribbling down his chin. Sae clicked his tongue and shook his brother lightly.

“Rin.”

Rin slowly blinked and snapped out of it, shaking his head. “Nii-chan?”

Before Sae could formulate a proper response, there was the sound of the front door slamming open and shut. Their parents were home. There was no time to clean up the mess before they would see it. Sae’s brain was working at a mile per minute, trying to figure out some way to salvage this for his brother before their parents saw…

“Fuck!” their mother yelped when she saw the mess, clearly startled by the damage to the nice toy her boyfriend had bought the boys. She regained her bearings with a shuddering, angry breath, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “Can you two not be trusted to not break something if I’m not right over your shoulder?”

Sae pushed Rin away from him, pressing his hand against his chest. “It wasn’t Rin’s fault. We were playing and I knocked it over,” he lied. It came easy — he always took the fall for his brother, after all. Experience made it smooth like butter.

“Nii-chan…”

Their mother let out a small groan. “Of course it was.” She glanced at Rin. “Rin, go see Takehiro, okay? He brought home some candy.”

Rin perked up at the mention of sweets and ran out of the room to meet the man dating their mother excitedly. Food was the one way it seemed people other than Sae could earn his affection.

Once Rin was out of the room, their mother grabbed Sae by the back of his shirt and pulled him over to a chair. She sat down in it, still holding him by the scruff. “The hell were you thinking?”

“It was an accident…”

“Did I ask for an excuse?”

Wasn’t that what you were asking for? Still, she looked mad, so that must have been the wrong answer. Sae shook his head slowly, eyes unable to meet his mothers.

“Fucking look at me when I talk to you,” she demanded, and he did. His eyes were stinging, but he didn’t cry. That would make her more upset, make things worse. Sae being upset was the root of so many problems.

It was better if he was fine.

He kept quiet as he got pulled over her lap and the pain started. Harsh smacks on his rear, each punctuated with a question of why Sae made her do this, why he was such a “bad girl”, why he always did this. Of why he couldn’t be more like Rin. He bit his lip and ignored the need to defend himself lodging itself in his throat. And when she said it wasn’t even that bad, that he shouldn’t be looking like he was hurting, he believed her. She probably had taken worse, in the past. He knew that her life hadn’t been perfect. This was normal. It was okay.

When Rin asked if he was okay, seeing that it looked like he was hurting, the answer came easy, because it was what was supposed to be true:

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

When Sae got to Spain, he was quick to feel like things were running away from him. 

He was always supposed to be a striker. Strikers were the stars, after all. That was what his mother wanted. It was what he was supposed to be. He’d worked all these years to be one of the greats, sitting on the top of his age group in Japan. He was sure that that meant something. He’d been able to have some sense of pride, seeing his name praised, seeing how it made his mother so fucking happy. He kept running and running against his better judgment, even if it made him blind and dizzy and sick. Even if it hurt every part of him, he ran.

That sheer force of will wasn’t enough for Spain, though. Not when the country’s teams were so known for their sheer speed and power. Not when he went against players several years older than him vying for the same position with world-class training that truly made a difference. Not when it seemed that not everyone felt the same deep ache in their bones he did. Not when he fell so far behind almost everyone else in size.

Maybe Sae shouldn’t have been surprised when he was pulled away from going back to his dorm by the coach. He shouldn’t have been surprised to get sat down and told that he was going to be on the bench for their next game due to his results in practice.

Still, it made him feel like the floor had been pulled out from under him. It felt like his entire world was spiraling in an instant, his fists curling up in his lap. He began to speak in rushed Spanish, slightly clumsy from his Japanese accent. “I can do better. I can work harder.” He wasn’t the type to beg, and he wouldn’t be asking, but he would sure as hell would provide reasoning. What was a few hours of sleep wasted, if he got to keep his position? “I’m a harder worker than anyone here. You know that, that’s why you said you wanted me for the team. Just give me a chance, and—”

“Listen, I’m not done,” Coach Navarro said, cutting off Sae’s protests. “It’s not that I want you off the team, kid.”

Sae paused and looked up at Navarro, furrowing his brow. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Navarro, who was used to Sae’s blunt manner of speech, was unruffled by the rude phrasing. He sighed, leaning against his desk. “Have you ever considered being a midfielder, Itoshi?”

A midfielder. The words felt like a slap to the face. Sae furrowed his brow. That wasn’t what people wanted from him. That wasn’t what she wanted from him. That wouldn’t get him what he wanted, what he needed. “What?”

“Your intellect and spatial awareness is top tier. Those traits lend themselves well to helping others — and you do that frequently. You’re already very good at getting assists and using others to your advantage, even if your communications off-field aren’t as… smooth. With some fine-tuning, the position could fit you like a glove,” the coach explained. 

Sae scowled. “I’ve never played midfield. I’ve always been a forward.”

“Are you saying you can’t do it?” Navarro asked, knowing exactly what buttons to press to get Sae worked up.

The Japanese boy’s eye twitched and he stood up. The motion was a bit too fast, hitting his vision with a cloud of gray and hitting him with a bout of dizziness harsh enough to make him reach out to brace himself on the desk. He grit his teeth, denying any help when it was offered from his coach.

“I’m not saying this is permanent. I just want you to try it. If I’m wrong, we can work on getting you back to a forward position. Do you understand, Itoshi?”

Sae didn’t fucking understand why his coach felt the need to take away the one thing that made his mother look at him still, but he nodded as though he did. “Understood. Can I leave now?”

“If you’re feeling up to it. I can get Luna to help you—”

“I don’t need Luna.”

“Are you sure?” Navarro asked, concern in his voice.

The words were spat out between gritted teeth: “Yeah, I’m fine.”

After his first game as a midfielder, Sae knew that Navarro had made the right choice.

The position made him feel so much better than any play he made as a striker did. It reminded him of providing all of the assists in the world to Rin, reminded him of the type of soccer they’d always played together. It was so comfortable that he didn’t even notice the pain in his joints, each pass he made fitting him perfectly. This was where he’d been meant to be. Even if his mother wouldn’t understand him taking that background role, it was what made him feel best.

Despite his texts with her having remained mostly silent since he arrived in Spain, he found her blowing up his phone now, demanding answers. Why wasn’t he scoring goals? Why wasn’t his name up on the screen, the letters spelling Itoshi proudly displayed? Why wasn’t he the intimidating figure that he was supposed to be?

And that was when it really hit him that the attention he got wasn’t really for him. His mom just wanted his achievements to make the family look better. 

For once, Sae didn’t think before acting. He blocked the number on his phone as he turned off the shower and deleted the contact entirely, biting his lip. He was quick to put on sweats to get back to the team bus, pushing past his teammates like they meant nothing to him.

When he found his seat, Luna was quick to follow behind him and grate at his nerves. He was probably Sae’s least favorite part of being on Re Al — and that was saying something, considering how many of the Spaniards he hated. “There’s our precious Itoshito.”

Fuck, he did not feel like dealing with Luna’s shit tonight. Not after realizing what he had. Not after cutting off his mother on a whim. He turned his head away, not even bothering to ask him to not call him by the ridiculous nickname.

“Itoshitooooo~” Luna whined in the tone of a petulant child, always looking for a rise out of Sae in particular. Maybe it was because he acted so untouchable normally. He was usually too over everything to let his temper snap. It wasn’t that it wasn’t there, like some people believed — he was just too exhausted for it to really bubble forward at most times nowadays. 

Sae shut his eyes, hoping Luna would run off when he didn’t get the reaction he was looking for. 

“Baby little midfielder!”

Ignored.

Luna frowned a bit. He was likely confused — Even if Sae didn’t give him much of a reaction usually, he’d at least make an effort to make it clear not to call him nicknames like that. He didn’t want his teammates getting the idea they could, too.

“Is something wrong, Sae?” Luna asked, his voice oddly soft.

Sae’s next words were so well-rehearsed that he could speak them in his sleep.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

When he came home to Japan again, Sae knew he didn’t look the same. When he looked in the mirror, he looked like a different person. He’d been able to get on testosterone in Spain, making his features sharpen into a more masculine shape. While there had always been a sense of tiredness to his eyes, the bags were deep now, accentuated by the lack of sleep he’d gotten since cutting off his parents entirely. He’d grown a bit, too, though he hadn’t caught up to a lot of the boys he played with. His frame had gotten a bit skinnier, streamlined by the strict diets of Re Al as opposed to whatever food he made for himself. If it wasn’t for his signature Itoshi eyes and the fact he hadn’t really changed his hair since he was eight, he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself.

Sae didn’t issue a warning to anyone that he’d be back. He didn’t bother going back to the house, either. He didn’t want to see his parents. Not his mother, and certainly not his stepfather. They weren’t who he was here to see. No, he was only here for Rin. The precious little brother that made Japan slightly worth it. The boy that he’d protected with his life their entire childhood. And if Rin was anything like when they were kids, he wouldn’t be home at this hour. No, he would be down at the soccer field still, practicing.

Sae would be right to assume so. He would find Rin about to make a shot, drawing back his form by a couple of steps. Sae paused and decided to watch, suitcase in hand. The shot would have good power behind it, an excellent curve. Many would consider it a high-level kick, especially by Japanese standard. Sae’s eyes knew better, though. He could tell that the aim had been off from where his little brother had been planning. So, when he took a few more steps forward, he was honest:

“That shot was naive.”

Rin paused and immediately began to turn around, a grin crossing his face. “Nii-ch—”

Sae’s tired eyes met Rin’s own, and Rin faltered, his smile falling. His brows drew up in concern, almost appearing confused. “Welcome… back…”

Sae sighed at the words, examining his little brother. Just like him, he’d grown up in the time they’d been apart. “Yeah. I’m home.”

“Has it been four years…?” Rin asked, sounding caught off-guard. “Wait, weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?”

Right. That was what Sae had told the press. The red-head shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal; It really wasn’t. He’d wanted to check up on Rin sooner, so he made it happen. “Yeah… I had them move it up.”

Rin slowly nodded, his smile returning. “Oh, got it.” He stepped forward, looking to examine his big brother a bit closer. Sae let him stare, not really bothered by it. He was used to eyes, considering how his career had soared. “We’ve been watching the news! You played in that Re Al subsidy match and scored a goal… You’re awesome, nii-chan.” He tilted his head, eyes stalling on the way that the sweats Sae wore hung on his body. “Have you… lost some weight?”

No mentions of him becoming a midfielder. Their parents likely hadn’t mentioned it, then. If the news was in Spanish, Rin wouldn’t be able to understand it himself, though their stepfather was able to. It would be easy to hide. Typical.

“Yeah, maybe.” Sae shrugged it off, not really thinking much of it. “Hey, Rin.” He examined his palm as he spoke, the lines of it that had been calloused by falls against the grass. “It’s a big world out there. There are people out there even better than I am.”

Rin’s expression, though happy still, became tainted with confusion. “What’re you talking about?”

Sae clenched his fist, watching the way his flesh squeezed beneath itself. “I’ve revised my dream. I’m not going to be the world’s best striker anymore,” he informed Rin. Someone had to tell him. “I’m going to be the world’s best midfielder.”

Rin gaped at him for a moment, hesitating. “Huh…? What are you talking about? You’re a striker, right? Everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

Why does he sound so confused? Wasn’t it an easy concept to understand? He sure as hell knew that Rin heard him. Sae hadn’t been a true striker playing with Rin in the first place. Sae had already been in Rin’s shadow, in the end. It wasn’t as though he was abandoning their dream, he was just playing for it in a way that made more sense. What was the difference if he did so as a midfielder? It was more accurate to their relationship in the first place. 

His immediate response is to be put-off by his little brother’s ignorant, naive reply. Did he not understand the most fucking basic of things? “Be quiet. That’s something a fool would say.”

“What the hell? Don’t just give up like that!” Rin said, his tone suddenly taken over by a passionate note. “Didn’t you say that we’d fight together? You told me to become as awesome as you are!”

Sae sighed. Was Rin being dense on purpose? He wasn’t denying their initial dream at all. He’d been misunderstood. He simply decided to explain himself. “Right, exactly. That’s why I’ll be a midfielder, and you can be the world’s best stri—”

“I don’t want that!” Rin snapped. “I’m the little brother of the world’s best striker!”

Sae felt his eye twitch. What the fuck was he going on about? Sae hadn’t been a striker for over a year now.

“Did you come back just to say something that stupid?!” Rin continued, his gaze filled with fire. “I don’t want to see you like this, nii-chan. You’re not the big brother I dreamt with!”

And that fucking hurt. Sae could feel it stabbing into his heart. After he’d given so much to Rin, after he’d dedicated so much of his life to making sure he was happy and safe. He’d practically given his entire life to him. Now that he made one fucking decision for himself, that made him feel okay — and one that still made their dream move forward, mind you — Rin was shoving him away. Well, fine then. Sae wouldn’t play the happy older brother, then. He would be fucking honest. Maybe that would be enough to make Rin understand again and make him return to him again, just like they were supposed to be.

“Tepid.” Sae took up the ball in front of him beneath his foot. “Soccer is a battlefield. You don’t get it, Rin.” He dropped his weight in the way he knew prevented him from getting dizzy as he ran, easily shifting the ball to the perfect position. “If you can beat me one-on-one, then I’ll dream with you again.” His eyes were harsh as the settled on Rin once more. “But if I win, our little dream ends here.”

More so out of Rin refusing to revise than anything. If he wouldn’t realize things on his own, Sae would just have to teach him the hard way why things had to be the way he laid out.

“What the hell?” Rin asked, his eyes narrowing. “If I lose, our dream is over? You don’t get to decide that, nii-chan.”

“That’s why I said I’ll believe in you again if you win,” Sae replied. The terms seemed simple, in his mind. Why wouldn’t he believe in Rin again, if he managed to win?

“Give me a break! That’s just—”

Sae was done with talking it out. “Let’s go, Rin.” He began to move, not bothering to give Rin time to prepare. “It’s all riding on this.”

“Wait—”

The match went by in a blur, like Sae wasn’t even fully there. His mind was a blur of moments with Rin, of all the minutes he’d spent on keeping him going. Would Rin even be alive without him being there all those years? Sae doubted it. And what had Rin done with that life he’d given him? It didn’t seem like much. Rin had improved in the time he was gone, sure, but not nearly enough. It didn’t even feel like he was trying. He was taking so fucking much for granted. 

“What were you even doing here in Japan while I was gone?” Sae asked bluntly, his eyes narrowing. What was Rin even fucking doing? Sure, Sae had wanted to revise their dream, but was Rin even fighting for it in the first place?

Before Rin could reply, the sound of the ball slapping against the net loud as a shot fired. 

“That’s the end,” Sae said simply, glancing down at Rin, who’d ended up on the ground at some point.

“Nii-chan, wait…” Rin’s voice was strained as he began to speak on how he’d tried so hard to be a replacement for Sae, how he’d been working his ass off for this. And how he had no reason to play soccer without Sae.

As if he hadn’t been the one shaping their dreams for so long. As if he hadn’t snatched soccer away from Sae, intruded on it. And Sae had been more than willing to share, but not like this. Never like this.

“Then give it up,” Sae said. There was no reason in Rin playing anymore if he only did so for some broken dream. He’d just end up hurt over and over, and even if he was being rebellious, he was still Sae’s little brother. He was still that little boy that he made sure ate and got to school every day. It was up to him to get Rin either on track or away from the things that would hurt him.

“Huh?” Rin whispered.

“That’s so tepid.” Sae glared down at Rin. When did he turn into this broken doll of a boy? Was it when Sae left? Had it always been like this? No, Sae hadn’t raised him to give into such pathetic thoughts. “Did you think I’d comfort you if you started crying about that? You’re a defective product.”

Rin’s talent had been even greater than Sae’s. He’d seen it even back when they were small. How did it end up like this?

Was it Japan? That was the difference in how they’d continued to grow. Rin had been using the Japanese method, and Sae the Spanish method. Maybe that was what had crushed down his talent. That would make sense. If Rin had gone with Sae, he’d have been able to see exactly why Sae was a midfielder, and he would have had the training regiment to become something better than he was.

“Guess it’s true that Japan tries to keep things equal…” Sae continued. “And that turns talent into trash.” He began to walk away, but he casted one less withering glance at Rin. “Best in Japan? My replacement? Don’t make me sick, and don’t you dare use me as a reason for playing soccer.”

Rin had been the one to choose to jump into that game when they were young. He did it on his own, the little monster, because he wanted the energy of the game. Boiling it down to Sae probably as just another part of the Japanese mentality that he was clutching onto, that sense of camaraderie that dragged games down. Sae had to crush it to have the boy he knew back. Even if it hurt — fuck, Rin was hurting him too with his attitude. He was making him feel like some sort of bad guy simply for making a good decision that for once prioritized himself. Why wasn’t he allowed to think of himself one fucking time in his life?

“Maybe I’m special to you, but you’re nothing but an eyesore to me.” He grabbed his suitcase, which had been discarded at the end of the field at some point in their conversation, by the handle as he walked past it. “Don’t think that you’re needed all because you were born after me. You’re not worth anything as a soccer player.”

Not as he was now.

“Fuck off, Rin. I don’t need you anymore.”

Sae walked back to the car which he’d ridden in to get to the field, tapping on the passenger side door. It unlocked with an audible click, and Sae got in. He slammed the door behind him, his teeth grit together hard enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if a tooth cracked. 

“Señor Itoshi?” Gerard (Sae’s current manager — he’d gone through four or five by now) asked, his brows furrowed. “I thought you were bringing your brother.”

“Drive, Dabadie,” Sae muttered, his fists clenched hard enough to draw blood from his palms. His emotions were running hot — too hot. He needed things to slow down. He just needed things to stop for one fucking minute and let him breathe. One thing needed to go right and make him feel okay in his life.

“Are you okay?”

The words came before Sae could even consider if he wanted to say them, and he almost wished that Gerard would know that he was lying and call him out on his bullshit:

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

When he was first told to join up with the Japan U-20 for a game, Sae had been hesitant, but Blue Lock’s inclusion of Rin intrigued him enough to at least try it. The program was unique, a far cry from Japan’s traditional soccer. Maybe his baby brother had finally grown. Maybe there was some hope after all. 

Still, the idea of being on that team had been fucking disgusting to him until he’d been given the privilege to pick out one player from Blue Lock’s to take as his own. At first, he considered taking Rin, but that would defeat the purpose of Sae wanting to test his skills. A lot of the players were nothing impressive, in Sae’s eyes. Above average? Sure. Most of them were gems, but they weren’t too valuable. Quartz, maybe. Sae had bookmarked a few profiles as he passed by them to look at later, ones that were perhaps topaz as opposed to quartz. 

And that was when he came across the file of Shidou Ryuusei. Rough, violent, and wild with the pure strength and viscousness of a demon. Every physical stat was out the roof, and there was something about that monstrous personality that felt perfect to Sae. Each image and video he was able to get his hands on made him want to see more. He’d deleted the other bookmarks immediately and made his demand, not bothering to look at anyone else. He knew what he wanted. Blue Lock, by the looks of things, was completely failing to properly polish his gem of a talent. Just like Japan did to any player that crossed its hands.

Sae wasn’t about to allow that to happen to yet another inhuman talent. 

When Shidou came into Sae’s care, he would be surprised how easily he was able to tame the demon with a few good passes and just some actual acknowledgement. It was like the guy was used to fighting to even be alive, living more like a stray dog than a person. And Sae was more than happy to give that puppy a collar and leash, as well as a bed to call him home. 

He hadn’t slept with anyone before Shidou, not really. The closest he’d had were those fingers on his cunt in the doctor’s office, groping at his flesh and nudging at the places that made him feel good before he understood it. The idea of having Shidou inside him had scared Sae, though he didn’t admit it directly. Shidou seemed to know it, though, because he’d offered to find them a toy so Sae could fuck him instead. Always so fucking willing to accommodate him. It was like he knew Sae’s every need — No one had bothered to notice before. He was so easily able to tell things about Sae that he never even said, and he always acted accordingly, even if it often came with teasing that made Sae roll his eyes.

Maybe that was what made their first fight hurt that much more. 

Shidou had walked out of the room they’d been sharing after that. Sae wasn’t sure where the hell he went. He didn’t ask. He’d ended up steeping in a silent rage for a few moments before throwing his phone against the wall. It wasn’t like they were dating. Shidou just let him release his pent-up frustration on him in the form of sex sometimes. Sae wasn’t sure why he was so mad. It really shouldn’t have bothered him — it had all started as a fucking tiny disagreement about Sae sending a few more passes to Sendou during practice, too. Even if Sae hated the rest of the team, he had to be able to work with them. Shidou hadn’t liked that.

Sae sighed and exited the dormitory, hands shoved into his pockets. He’d decided to go grab some water, maybe a pinch of table salt to help with his dizziness. He figured that it would make him feel a bit better, at least.

And that would be when he ran into Oliver fucking Aiku. Sae didn’t dislike Aiku nearly as much as many of the other U-20 members — he had a decent head on his shoulders when it came to his own team, even if he was being short-sighted about Shidou, and his defensive skills were something that he could respect. His flippant attitude off the field grated on Sae’s nerves a bit, but nothing compared to Luna back in Madrid. That being said, he didn’t even want that minimal annoyance in that moment. He was stuck between turning to leave and just sucking it up to grab his drink.

Aiku waved before he could make a choice. “Hey, prodigy child.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop fucking calling me that?” Sae muttered, shoving past Aiku to grab a glass of water.

Aiku’s eyebrows flicked up at Sae’s swearing. He wasn’t the type that normally did it often, after all. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“None of your business.”

“C’mon, maybe I can help.”

Sae snorted. With Aiku’s track record with women? “Yeah, I’ll pass, thank you.” He filled up his cup with water from the sink and began to make a beeline back to his room. Aiku stepped in front of him, though, blocking his path. 

“Hey, seriously. You good?”

Sae scoffed, but he figured Aiku would only leave him alone with an answer phrased seriously. So, he said three words that he was used to:

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Of course, Sae and Shidou would make up from that fight (and a few others, in the future). Sae gave Shidou his number after that game with the U-20 team, even if there wasn’t a hat trick to speak of. They eventually got together into a real relationship when Shidou actually popped the question, and things were going well in that department. To many people’s surprise, Shidou was perfectly capable of being a loving, gentle partner, if he had the right person beside him. That person being Sae. 

Sae never had thought he’d end up in love before Shidou, but here he was. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, caught up in it somewhere too fast for him to even see it coming, but it was one of the best feelings in the world. It scared him a bit, made him always a bit ready for things to implode like they did with Rin or to end with touches that made him want to puke like Kuupika. But Shidou never did anything of the sort. 

It had been a long night of sex between the two before they’d ended up laying next to each other, a pile of sweat and heavy, exhausted breaths. Sae’s mind had been elsewhere most of it, had been for a little while now. His feelings had been compounding into something more and more complex recently. He didn’t even understand his own thoughts recently, them always spiraling in directions that he wasn’t willing to follow.

Shidou had noticed, and had kept asking him about it. Sae kept pushing it off, the words easy:

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Shidou turned over in bed and wrapped his arms around Sae, brushing Sae’s bangs out of his face. And he asked yet again: “You good, lashes? Ya seem distracted.”

And Sae’s first instinct was to answer the same: Yeah, I’m fine.

But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he just needed to tell someone he wasn’t alright. The pressure of keeping everything inside was finally getting to him, making him feel like he could break down any second. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on without faltering. Maybe Shidou was the one who could hear what he had to say. He was the one person that Sae found himself truly trusting. It was okay, maybe, if it was only Shidou who heard it. It would never escape the walls of their room. Despite how big of a mouth he seemed to have, Shidou was good at keeping secrets. 

Sae wasn’t alright.

“I want to die,” he admitted quietly. 

He hadn’t told anyone before. He hadn’t even truly admitted it to himself. Shidou didn’t have something to say for once, sitting up to look down at Sae. His eyes were confused, sad.

Sae kept talking, though. Once it started, he couldn’t stop. The stories of him and Rin came. The ones about his mother who abandoned him over and over again, only loving his achievements. The ones about the doctor who he could still the hands of on him sometimes when he tried to sleep. The ones about how shit he felt physically, even as he pushed his body to the limit. Every detail of how he became the famed midfielder and the man he was now.

And Shidou listened to it all. He stayed quiet until Sae finished every story, through every explanation.

“I… I just fucking can’t anymore,” Sae whispered, his voice pathetically broken. He hated how he sounded. It reminded him of some sort of kicked puppy that couldn’t stand up for itself. Sae wasn’t a puppy. He was stronger than that. He could take everything in his life — He had been. He could stand alone and do it well. “I’m so tired. I hate living like this, always being in fucking pain and feeling hands on me and feeling ignored and… and I hate living and—”

Shidou grabbed him and hugged him tight. “Just cry already, genius.”

Sae hesitated, his fingers curling against Shidou’s chest. Normally, he’d scold the demon for interrupting him, but he made an exception for right then. “I don’t cry,” he murmured. He hadn’t cried since he was eight years old and got hit enough times for it and yelled bad enough shit at him that he never wanted to do it again. Even when he knew he was alone and no one could see him, the threat of it was enough to keep tears from falling.

“Your momma ain’t here.” Shidou kissed Sae’s forehead. “‘N if she were, all we’d be dealin’ with would be a corpse, got it?”

Sae probably should have found the casual mention of murder disturbing, but it was oddly comforting. He hid his face in Shidou’s chest and just let the warmth take him in. “I don’t know if I can,” he murmured.

Shidou just brushed his fingers through his hair. “Cry.”

And, somehow, hearing it again made his eyes sting, wet tears beginning to fall. His arms went up to wrap around Shidou’s neck tightly. Shidou kissed his cheek and held him just as tightly in return, his larger frame feeling as though it was shielding Sae from the world. 

“I love you,” Shidou murmured.

He was the only one Sae could remember saying it to him without some sort of  expectation attached.

“I love you too,” Sae whispered. The words came easier than he ever thought he would.

Shidou pulled Sae’s chin up to look at him, oddly serious. “If you die, I die too,” he promised. “‘M not livin’ without you now that I got ya.”

“But—”

“But nothin’. You’re not dyin’ on me, lashes.”

Sae swallowed before nodding. Maybe life wasn’t too terrible to live with Shidou here, after all. He wasn’t like Rin, putting him on a pedestal that just dragged them both down. He wasn’t like Sae’s mother, never accepting him and only seeing him as the medals around his neck. He wasn’t like the doctor who forced her touches on him, or the stepfather that hadn’t ever seemed to really even seen him as a child of his.

Shidou wanted him as he was.

Sae kissed him, his tears smearing on Shidou’s face, and Shidou’s mouth pulled into a smile that felt more like him.

Sae wasn’t fine, but what they had together was. And that could be enough for Sae right then. Love was all he really wanted, when he really thought of it, and Shidou did nothing but love him from the first moment they met.

Sae was loved.