𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒯𝓌𝒾𝒸ℯ ✾ 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✿𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗✿

The reporter cleared his throat, attempting to steady himself as he faced Itoshi Sae, who was watching him with an expression of utter disinterest. There was something unnerving about the way the young prodigy's gaze seemed to pierce right through him, making it clear that he found the entire interaction dull at best. Pushing past his nerves, the reporter decided to get straight to the point.
"To get right to it... until recently, you were playing for the youth team associated with Team Real Madrid. However, due to certain regulations, you were not permitted to officially compete, which ultimately led to your return to Japan."

Sae, who had already anticipated this line of questioning, fought the urge to roll his eyes. He found the statement redundant—he had heard it countless times before—but for the sake of maintaining professionalism, he restrained himself. There was no need to make his manager, who already looked on edge, panic any more than he already was.

"Do you think we'll ever see you playing in a domestic league?" the reporter asked, his eyes filled with hope, as if he were anticipating a promising answer. However, that hope was swiftly shattered by Sae's brutally direct response.
"I'd rather die."
The words were delivered with such cold indifference that the reporter visibly flinched. There was no hesitation, no second thought—just a blunt, emotionless declaration. Sae's stare was as unreadable as ever, his expression completely devoid of sympathy, making it painfully clear that he meant every word.

"Don't you have any aspirations of representing Japan?" the reporter asked, his voice tinged with alarm. It was clear that Sae's previous response had caught him off guard, but he still held onto the hope of a different answer.
Sae, however, was already done with the conversation. Without so much as a second thought, he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, making it obvious that he had no intention of entertaining the question any further.
"Japanese soccer is a joke, and it'll be mediocre at best," he stated flatly.

His tone carried no room for argument, no hesitation—just a cold, unwavering certainty. As he turned on his heel, his reddish-brown hair shifted slightly with the movement, catching the light for a brief moment before he strode toward the door, making his exit without so much as a glance back.

"There's no forward in this country worthy of my passes. I was simply born in the wrong country," Sae said nonchalantly, as if the statement were nothing more than an indisputable fact.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode out of the room, his departure as effortless as his words had been. The door shut behind him with a quiet finality, leaving the reporter frozen in place, struggling to process what had just happened. The sheer bluntness of Sae's remarks, paired with his complete lack of delay, left an undeniable weight in the air—one that lingered long after he was gone.

As Sae was about to turn the corner, ready to face his already distraught manager, a sound cut through the air—a soft, almost melodic giggle, yet laced with something eerily menacing. It was subtle, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make him stop in his tracks.
His brows furrowed slightly as he glanced over his shoulder, expecting nothing more than a trick of his imagination. But the moment his eyes landed on the figure before him, every thought in his mind came to a screeching halt.
Absolute astonishment gripped him, freezing him in place. His breath hitched, his usually unreadable expression faltering just slightly as he stared.
"Y/n..."
Her name rolled off his tongue, barely more than a whisper, as if saying it out loud would confirm that she was really there. For the first time in a long while, Sae found himself at a complete loss.

The young prodigy grinned, her posture relaxed as she leaned casually against the wall, as if she had been waiting for his interview to conclude. There was an undeniable air of confidence about her, an effortless self-assurance that made it seem like she belonged nowhere and everywhere at once.