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It was late afternoon, and Shidou Ryusei sat on the expensive leather couch, his eyes glued to the TV. He sighed, watching whatever romantic nonsense was on. He had turned the TV on to watch Itoshi Sae’s soccer match, but he lost the remote. Now, he had no way to change the channel. His phone was at a repair shop because he had broken it the other day, so there wasn’t any way to check Sae’s match.
Shidou exhaled, fidgeting with his clothes out of sheer boredom.
Suddenly, he heard keys jingling outside the door. He turned his head towards the sound, confusion crossing his face. The door creaked open to reveal a tired Sae, taking off his shoes.
“SAE-CHAN!!!!!!!” the demon yelled, jumping up from his seat and rushing toward Sae.
The Re Al player stared blankly at Shidou, letting him pounce onto him.
“Sae-chan! I missed you! How did it go?” Shidou asked, pulling him into a tight hug.
Sae dropped his sports bag, barely reacting to Shidou's affection, and pushed him off with a shove.
“Not now, demon,” Sae said, grabbing the dropped bag and trudging toward their shared bedroom, leaving Shidou standing at the door.
“Sae-chan…?” The blonde stared down the empty hallway where Sae had vanished. Usually, Shidou would have laughed it off because Sae was always like this. Cold, annoying, brutally honest. But this time felt different.
Something was off.
Meanwhile, Sae entered the bedroom, dropping his sports bag on the wooden floor before shuffling toward the bathroom.
The sound of the shower turning on filled the quiet room. Warm water cascaded down his shoulders, washing away the fatigue from the match.
Sae stood beneath the stream, closing his eyes as the events of the match replayed in his mind.
The stadium roared louder than usual, thousands of voices echoing across the field.
But Sae’s teal eyes were locked on the scoreboard.
The score read 3-2.
Before he could process the final moments of the match, the referee’s whistle cut through the stadium, freezing him in place.
His teammates spoke around him, but their voices blended into meaningless noise.
Sae stared at the green soccer field, replaying every mistake he made during the match.
The flashing lights of the cameras were almost as annoying as the questions.
Sae stood in front of the reporters, his expression blank as microphones were pushed toward him.
“Tell me, Itoshi Sae. Your team suffered a tough loss today. What are your thoughts on the match?” one reporter began.
Sae focused forward, offering no response.
“Do you think your performance met expectations?” asked the same reporter, growing more anxious.
He remained silent, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the crowd.
“Some fans are saying this was one of the worst matches of your career. How do you respond to that?”
As soon as the words left her lips, the room fell into an uneasy silence, though camera shutters continued to click. The reporter shifted uncomfortably, tightening her grip on the microphone.
Once again, the midfielder said nothing.
The team's media manager stepped between Sae and the reporters.
“That’s enough for today. This interview is over.”
Sae turned without another word and walked out, the reporters' voices fading behind him.
His fingers caught the fabric of his jersey, gripping it tightly enough for the wrinkles to remain long after he let go.
The reporters' questions lingered in his mind.
The water had turned cold some time ago.
Sae opened his eyes, realizing he had been in the shower too long. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and turned off the faucet.
He stepped out of the shower, pulling on a loose T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants.
Sae took a towel from the rack to dry his hair.
He followed a strict routine after every match.
But for some reason, it felt strangely unfamiliar.
After several minutes of completing his routine, Sae finally opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway.
He froze.
A figure caught his eye.
Sae turned toward it and relaxed when he saw it was Shidou.
The blonde sat on the floor outside the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” Sae asked, confusion creeping into his voice.
Shidou simply shrugged.
Sae blinked.
“You were in there for a while.”
The hallway fell silent.
Sae didn’t know what to say.
Instead, he turned on his heel and moved toward their bedroom.
As he walked, he brushed past Shidou without saying a word. His footsteps were slow, lacking their usual confidence.
Behind him, another set of footsteps followed.
Sae didn’t need to look back to know who it was.
He entered the bedroom, heading straight for the bed.
With a quiet sigh, he sat on the edge of the mattress before lying back.
The soft sheets welcomed him, but they did little to ease the weight on his chest.
Shidou gently closed the door behind him.
The blonde lingered by the doorway for a moment, observing the midfielder staring blankly at the ceiling.
Without saying anything, he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed beside Sae.
The demon nestled closer, carefully wrapping an arm around him.
His body remained tense, but slowly, the tension began to fade.
Sae shifted closer, resting his head on Shidou's chest.
The blonde's hand moved gently through Sae's soft hair.
“Lashes.”
Sae hummed quietly in response.
“What happened?”
Shidou's voice was quieter than usual, his hand still brushing through Sae's hair.
Sae opened his eyes slightly.
“Nothing.”
Shidou broke the silence.
“Liar.”
Sae frowned.
“I'm not lying.”
“You are.”
The Re Al midfielder looked up at the demon.
“And how would you know?”
A small grin appeared on Shidou's lips.
“It’s ‘cause you’re bad at it, Sae-chan.”
For once, Sae had no comeback.
Shidou's grin slowly faded, his fingers continuing to run through Sae's hair.
“Bad match?”
Sae's expression changed slightly.
“Don’t want to talk about it?”
Sae looked away.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Shidou let out a quiet laugh.
“You’re terrible at lying.”
Sae remained silent.
The blonde's expression softened.
“That bad, huh?”
Sae's fingers tightened against Shidou's shirt.
“I should've done better.”
The words came out quietly, almost like Sae didn’t want them to exist.
Shidou blinked.
Not because he was surprised that Sae cared about losing.
But because he recognized how much it must have taken for him to admit it.
“So?”
Sae blinked.
“So?”
“Yeah. So what?”
Shidou tilted his head, looking down at him.
“You had a bad day. You lost. That doesn’t change who you are, Lashes.”
Sae stayed quiet.
“You don’t understand.”
Shidou tilted his head slightly.
“Then make me understand.”
Sae's fingers curled against Shidou's shirt.
“Everyone expects me to win.”
His voice was softer than usual.
“If I can’t do that, then what am I supposed to be?”
Shidou was silent for a moment.
Then he gently tapped Sae’s forehead.
“An idiot, apparently.”
Sae frowned.
“Ryusei.”
“What?”
The blonde grinned slightly.
“You're still you, Lashes.”
Sae didn’t respond.
The midfielder’s grip on Shidou’s shirt loosened, his tense shoulders finally relaxing.
“....Idiot.”
Shidou grinned.
“There he is.”
Sae opened one eye and glared at him.
“Don’t get comfortable.”
“Too late.”
Sae let out a small chuckle, so quiet that Shidou almost thought he imagined it.
The room grew quiet again, but this time it felt comfortable.
There were no expectations on Sae's shoulders. No cameras. No reporters. No voices telling him how he should have played.
Just the warmth of Shidou beside him.
Slowly, exhaustion from the day began to catch up with him. His eyelids grew heavier by the second.
Eventually, Sae's breathing evened out, and his body relaxed against Shidou's.
The blonde looked down at him, his fingers still gently combing through Sae's hair.
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
Shidou smiled softly.
“But I love you anyway, Sae-chan.”