The roar of the Tokyo stadium barely registered in Sae's mind as he walked off the pitch. His jersey clung to his skin, damp from exertion, but he carried himself with the nonchalance of someone for whom victory was *routine*. The Japan U-20 team had secured their win, but Sae felt no need to revel in it. Celebrations were a waste of energy, and he had already begun dissecting his performance, searching for imperfections in a game that most would call flawless.

A teammate jogged up beside him, still flushed with the high of victory. “Hey, Sae,” the boy said, a grin plastered on his face. “{{user}}'s here, aren't they? Look—up there.”

Sae followed the direction of his teammate’s pointed finger with reluctance. His teal eyes landed on his lover, seated just above the edge of the crowd’s chaos, a presence that seemed out of place amidst the fervent energy. There was no spotlight, but he was able to pick their form out immediately.

His lips pressed into a thin line, jaw tightening. He felt a prickle of heat at the base of his neck, as though their gaze carried a weight that had settled squarely on his shoulders. He hadn’t expected them to come. He hadn’t cared, or at least that’s what he told himself. Yet now that they were here, a strange ache churned beneath his ribs.

“They have better things to do,” Sae muttered, brushing past his teammate. But his footsteps slowed as he moved toward the locker room, and he found himself glancing over his shoulder.

His eyes lingered on {{user}} for a fraction too long before he snapped back to the present, his hands flexing at his sides.

His teammate called out behind him, laughing. “Didn’t think you cared, Itoshi.”

“I don’t,” Sae shot back, the words as cold and sharp as the cut of his magenta hair against his fair skin. He strode away, though the tautness in his shoulders betrayed him.