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animatedrapture · 2 months

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“THREE KNOTS.” / itoshi sae x f!reader.

— sfw. angst. non-established relationship. long distance lovers. pining. fluff. mentioned rin itoshi (not too canon compliant vague state of their relationship.) insecurity. some jealous undertones. misunderstandings. no real comfort.

— not proofread. might be a bit too wordy. also some chance of ooc-ness cause, idk, i tried though. :] ending might've sounded a bit rushed but i was trying to do something and it was not... doing anything. loosely inspired of NIKI's Autumn.

it's a tempestuous relationship—whatever you have with itoshi sae. but he's all you've ever known. whatever love is, it's defined by him.

you met him only three years ago. when he flew to japan to renew his passport only to stay because of blue lock—and whenever you think about it, it's almost like it was meant to be—you and sae.

the meeting him, the wanting him, the wanting you.

you're not sure what it is about him and what it is he saw in you that kept you together then. but his nights were yours. you'd trace your name against his exposed skin and you know he can tell, because you can feel him tense up whenever you do it.

he never stopped you then.

and you wonder which reaction was the most real from sae: the way he'd tense up as you traced your name or that he never told you to stop.

like you could.

like you had him.

you were both only eighteen; it's the first love you've ever known—maybe it's the only love you'll ever come to know.

but sae itoshi's reality is far from yours. so, so far from yours. that's why you're gripping his hand in yours like you'd fall from the earth or float away from it if you let go.

sae doesn't tell you this, not when he needs to board his plane with only a few minutes left, but he almost wishes he could stay with you.

play house, play lovers.

maybe he won't be itoshi sae, and you won't be y/n, but he'd love you the same.

you've gotten only barely a year of you and sae, but at the airport, you hold out your heart—soft and beating fast.

"i love you," you whisper against the pulse right under his ear, like if his heart could hear it, then maybe he won't have to go.

he hears you loud and clear. only because the language of your love is something he could recognize from a mile away.

sae itoshi is only barely nineteen. and i love you are foreign words even if he means to say them.

his thumb brushes against your bottom lip. it's gentle, along with his gaze, trained on the movement.

sometimes you wonder what goes through his mind whenever he does this, just right before he tilts your chin up, teal eyes meeting yours. you're also unsure what it is about sae's eyes that makes them look so piercing; you only ever see it when he's looking right at you.

he leans in, eyes flickering from yours down to your lips, then he brushes his lips against yours—it's barely there—like he's testing it like he hasn't done this a million couple times before.

then he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth, butterfly kisses, fleeting then coming back for more.

only then—does he really kisses you. he kisses you like it's enough to make up for the words he's not saying.

"i'll come back," he says in between kisses; even at that, he can feel the smile on your lips. it's just a promise, but you smile like you trust him—like you genuinely believed it, like you'd hold him to it even if it took a decade.

"i'll call you when the plane lands," he adds.(because it's the best he could say.)

"it'll be midnight here," you reply, while still gripping on his unzipped tracksuit, your other hand against his chest—because he could keep the words to himself, but you figured the wild thumping of his heart couldn't lie, couldn't ever keep a secret.

"you'll answer," he tells you.

and he's right. he always is.

and one day, you'd wish all of these stolen moments with him were enough. only because they had to have been, only because itoshi sae knew little else outside football, but he knew you.

sae thinks you're quite easy to read from the get-go, but in the months you've spent together, sae has learned you. as though you mattered that much.

you were only barely nineteen. you think you might've shot to the stars when you dreamt about sae itoshi not leaving you or maybe keeping you.

"sae-chan!" his manager yells from a distance, "we have to get in now!"

it's barely there, but you can feel the way he sighs. when sae lets you go and walks away, he doesn't turn back, doesn't wave, doesn't glance to see if you're walking away too.

he doesn't look out the window once he's seated inside the plane; he doesn't watch the view of japan fade away.

but at one thirty-six am, your phone is ringing.

you pick up at the first ring—because you haven't slept, subconsciously waiting for his call.

his voice filters in first, too monotonous for the words he's saying, "i should've asked you to come."

you laugh. only because you know he doesn't mean it, not really.

you miss him already, though. so you allow his little lie. besides, maybe it's not a complete lie. perhaps he really thinks so, but even if he did, he'd never allow it.

unlike you, allowing his calls at midnight to talk about the day and whisper empty promises for the next few months.

"after soccer," he says silently, "we can stay together."

his voice is warmer through the phone, mostly from his exhaustion than anything, but you think it must mean something at least—that it's always you on the other end of the line whenever he comes home, it's always you on the receiving end of his smile through the screen, always you that you see him texting after his team wins a match.

"after soccer," you echo him with a laugh, "i don't think there's an after soccer for you, sae."

your tone isn't malicious when you tell him this, and he's not sure what comes first—that he knows he's hurting you or that he loves you more for understanding.

"i'll figure it out," he answers you, completely serious. he says he will like he could do it all on his own.

"i'll figure it out with you," you say. "i'm right here with you, sae," and you tell him because you think he needs the reminder.

it's odd, you hope you're not wrong, but you can feel sae smiling through the phone in the silence.

when you whisper these promises to each other, promises that are as empty as they are pretty—you think it must mean something.

sae only wanted things that pushed him towards his goals but then there was you... and for a while, you thought you belonged there.

it must mean something, that there was you—running and trying so hard to catch up to his dreams because he wanted you there. running eastward to the warmth that sae had reserved only for you.

but if you were more honest with yourself, there is nothing between you and sae.

sometimes, when sae is gone from you and far into his own world, you think perhaps you might've truly been delusional to think you ever had a shot at calling him yours.

that's why when he gets involved in a dating scandal—with someone who's not you—you have to pretend everything is fine. you think it shouldn't be much of a challenge to do so, since no one even knows about you and sae.

as for sae, you wait for his calls, but for the next few weeks, they never come.

still, you try to think maybe it's your fault. you haven't reached out since then, but he hasn't either; you're stuck with nothing but a promise that you're starting to doubt ever even existed.

you know you love him, and you'd like to think that somewhere in his heart, sae loved you too.

except it's not enough to keep you from doubting otherwise until itoshi rin comes knocking on your door, plane ticket in hand, like whatever you had with sae hadn't ended when you stopped talking to him weeks ago.

but sae's little brother is there, telling you to come to sae because his brother's not doing well without you.

you're not sure what it means because sae seems to have been doing just fine when you saw his recent game—especially when you saw a picture of him leaving a building with the rumored girlfriend.

that's why you're shaking your head at rin, who's still standing by your front door. at rin, who's sighing and finally relenting.

"i don't care what you do, i'm just here to give this," he tells you (and you can't help but pick up on the way he speaks like sae) but he reaches out and takes your hand, leaving you the plane ticket and walking away without so much as a goodbye.

the flight isn't til three more days.

you stare at it, laid on the palm of your hand, and somehow you feel like crying. sighing, you close your door and leave the plane ticket on your coffee table.

maybe the universe would do you a favor and let the wind take care of it, fly out the window or fall somewhere you couldn't find.

the next morning, it's still there.

when you come home, it's still there. you consider ripping it, hoping you won't let yourself stumble over and stupidly back into sae's arms somehow.

but when the night comes and there's a gaping hole in your chest where sae resides, you miss him so much you think you'd die—your resolve breaks. you think about texting him because that's the easiest part, but the curtains of your window sway forward at the wind, and it makes you think of sae and the way it's the first thing he does when he wakes up, opening the window and letting the air in, and how it would be so lovely to see him do it when you're there.

there's a plane ticket taunting you.

you figure flying all the way to spain for sae is crazy but if it meant seeing his face, hearing his voice—if it meant you'd have the chance to keep him in any way he'd allow, perhaps it'd be worth it.

rin sends you a message just as you're boarding the plane the next day; it's an address to an apartment in spain and instructions to contact sae's manager once you land.

you follow it all—heart over head until he's right in front of you, lithe fingers curling over the handle of your luggage and rolling it inside his apartment—where all his windows are open, all wind and sunlight pouring in.

"rin said you didn't wanna come," he speaks up, turning to look at you awkwardly standing by the door.

"i didn't—" you try to say, but it feels like a lie, "but i missed you more."

sae walks up to you, his hands tucked inside his jacket and his stare that never really gives away how he feels.

"why not?"

you give him a shrug. "is there someone else, sae?" you ask, so blunt and earnest that his lips twitch in a smile.

sae reaches out, holds onto your hips, "you've got a good brain in there. use it," he replies, lets your question fall back to you, "is there, y/n?"

you frown at him like you're a child telling him he's being unfair. "there might," you pause, "but then i'd have to leave," but your hands moving to his chest doesn't make it convincing.

his heart jumps at your touch, it beats steadily. it's a rhythm only you're privy to.

"...there isn't," he says finally, eyebrows furrowing. "you're with me."

you smile because you believe him, "you stopped calling, though?"

"you were upset," he quips.

you nod, point taken. "and you let me be upset at you, itoshi sae? just like that? and let me think maybe you don't love me after—?"

the scowl on his face is quick to form as you spoke, "shut up," he says, completely serious.

"will you say sorry?" you say instead, trying to sound teasing, but your voice is soft and it's the easiest thing in the world for sae to pick up on.

"no," he whispers, pulling you even closer.

"make it up to me?" you continue even though you know he'll shake his head, stand his ground. not scared enough to test his patience, even though maybe you should be.

you want to let up, to take it as it is. to love him with no need for anything else, but the reality of your feelings win and you're asking another question before you could stop yourself.

"am i with you, sae?"

"stupid," he mutters. "i love only you."

right there, in his hold and the sunlight hitting him just right, you find yourself in itoshi sae's apartment for the first time, finally offering you his affections.

perhaps the world can have him every other way, but him just like this, you get to have all for yourself. in the way he pulls you in, presses kisses to your skin. in the way he comes through the door and searches for you in the room, and he smells so good and feels so safe for no reason at all.

while you're there, still unknown to the world, your hands are intertwined beneath the tables when he takes you out, it feels just enough.

in the mornings, you wake up early with him. it's contagious—he's contagious. his habits and idiosyncrasies. when you're brushing your teeth, he's carelessly littering kisses on your neck until you're scolding him about how you can't move. he gives your hips a pat—once, twice—peers at you through the mirror, then he's off.

sometimes, you wonder what it would be like to be able to call him yours. say he's your boyfriend, mean something more.

you think about how nice it would be if you could stay here with him. play house, play lovers.

and no one had to know, because he was enough.

but when sae's stopped for a post match interview and they're asking about her—the girl in the pictures—you wonder if you're enough. because sae stops only for a moment, then he’s sneering at them to fuck off.

under the sheets and a few hours left before you fly back to japan, sae's room is dim in the night. you tug on the necklace he keeps on all the time, bodies pressed together in a bed only fit for him.

he hums, eyes sewn shut still.

"are you only ever with me, sae?"

there's a beat of silence. sae knows exactly what you're talking about, but he's almost sure nothing he could say will never stop you from wondering what if.

so he doesn't try to dispel it, but at least he pulls you in and presses a kiss on top of your head.

he offers you a whisper of yes, and that's all you get.

you're not sure why sae is risking this, when the media always has their eyes on him, but he insists on bringing you to the airport.

there's a sinking feeling in your gut you can't quite shrug off. but sae is holding your hand, igniting your body aflame, peering over you like there's so much he wants to say.

your anxiety insists that it's nothing good. the words never come, though; just sae hooking a finger around one of the belt loops of your jeans to pull you in.

he tugs one, two, three times more, securing you close to him and then he's cupping your face in his hands, kissing you like it's the last time.

all sweeter, all slower. almost like if he cause pause the time, stay there forever, he might actually do it.

you wonder if he feels it now, the way you felt a year ago. in the airport, not really sure when you'd see each other again.

sae doesn't tell you to call him when your plane lands.

instead, he tells you to send him a message when you're home. you nod only because it feels better not to shatter this now, when he's all affection and the one who loves you most.

it's the first thing you do.

your chest is burdened with a weight that doesn't truly exist until his message comes before yours.

we're done.

you'd think that if you anticipate the pain, it would hurt less. but it doesn't, not for the quick sob that rips itself out of your chest, not for the tears that start falling before you make sense of it.

it's only a two-year run and you're barely twenty-one, but you think you'd be sae's forever.

it's a love hard-earned, hard-learned. a love letting go of you before you even stood a chance.

you tell him you're home, just like promised. right before you delete his number, because if you knew sae at all, he'd have your contacts deleted soon enough—if you're optimistic, maybe he'd do it more for him than you.

and miles away, you're right. while you grieve the love you'd always want, sae makes sure he won't crumble from thinking what if.

this is the choice he made for your sake, for his. he could only hope to god if he could finally keep you close to his chest, that you would still let him.

it's a terrible fate, though.

sae could only come back when the chance no longer exists.

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