Chapter Text
The shuffling in Sae’s carry-on grows more frantic as he impatiently searches for that notebook from you.
It was the first thing he stuffed into his bag.
Flipping through the worn pages, his eyes finally land on the last one—covered in messy scribbles, but the only thing that stands out is a single line written in red ink at the bottom:
"Wait for me. ❤️ Y/N"
Sae presses his thumb against the words, as if touching them could somehow bring back the past. Could somehow make you feel real again.
He leans back into his seat, staring out at the endless stretch of sky beyond the plane window, but it’s not Madrid he’s thinking about. It’s you.
This morning, back at the house, he’d been kicking a soccer ball around the backyard, the steady thud of leather against concrete filling the quiet air. Rin was there too, watching him with a knowing look before finally speaking up.
"Nii-chan, it was just puppy love."
Maybe it was. Maybe Rin was right.
But if it was just puppy love, why is it still lingering?
Why did he still worry—that if you ever came back, that you’d be mad at him for not being there?
It’s been three years.
The chances of seeing you again were close to impossible.
—
Sae steps into his new apartment in Madrid, rolling his suitcase inside as his manager gestures around the space.
“This is your living room,” his manager begins, flipping on the lights. The apartment is modern, minimalistic—exactly what Sae expected.
“Kitchen’s over there. Fridge is stocked for now, but you’ll need to do your own groceries after this week.”
Sae nods, setting his bag neatly by the couch.
“The bedroom’s down the hall,” the manager continues, walking ahead. “Bathroom’s connected. There’s a desk if you need to study or review game footage. Wi-Fi’s already set up.”
Sae peeks into the bedroom—plain, clean, nothing extravagant. Just a bed, a nightstand, and a small window overlooking the street below.
“You’re across the hall?” Sae asks as they return to the main area.
“Yeah,” his manager confirms, crossing. “If you need anything, just knock.”
Sae scoffs lightly. “I’ll be fine.”
His manager gives him a once-over, then exhales. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in.”
With that, the manager steps out, leaving Sae alone.
The moment the door clicks shut, Sae gets to work. He unzips his luggage, methodically putting his clothes away, setting his toiletries in the bathroom, and neatly stacking his training gear by the closet.
He takes mental notes of what he needs—more food, basic supplies, maybe an extra pillow.
Once everything is in place, he pulls out his phone and dials home.
His mother picks up almost immediately. “Sae?"
“I just landed and got to the apartment,” he informs her, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”
“That’s good,” she says warmly. “Have you eaten?”
“I will soon."
“Don’t just eat whatever’s fastest. Make sure you’re getting proper meals.”
Sae hums in acknowledgment before adding, “Tell Dad I made it safely. And Rin, too.”
“Of course,” his mother says. There’s a brief pause, then a softer, knowing tone in her voice. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”
Sae leans against the counter, staring at the empty space around him. His new home. His new life.
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
After a few more exchanges, he hangs up, setting his phone aside.
His eyes drift to his carry-on, to the one thing he hadn’t put away yet.
The notebook.
The worn cover, the slightly frayed edges—he traces them with his fingers before flipping it open once again. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy yet familiar, scrawled with thoughts and doodles from years ago.
It’s ridiculous, really. He hasn’t seen you in three years. He has no idea where you are, if you’re still in the same country, if you even remember him the way he remembers you.
But memories flood in anyway. The afternoons spent at the park, your determined expression when you first crashed his soccer game, the way you always talked too much but somehow, he never minded. The way you scribbled on his arm once with the same red ink you used to write—
"Wait for me. ❤️ y/n"
Sae exhales sharply and shuts the notebook.
Maybe it really was just puppy love.
He stands, grabs his wallet, and heads for the door.
He needs to get out, get familiar with the city.
He’s going to live here now, after all.
—
The city is foreign, unfamiliar—Sae hates it.
He was never one for traveling. The only reason he’s here is to play soccer at an international level, but outside of that, it feels suffocating in a way he never expected.
The streets are too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He doesn’t understand the conversations happening around him, the unfamiliar syllables blending into meaningless noise. The people pass by in a blur, all strangers, none of them acknowledging him beyond quick glances.
It’s not like he’s stupid enough to get scammed—he’s careful, always aware of his surroundings. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t change how frustrating it is to have all this free time and nowhere to go, no one to turn to.
The city is alive, buzzing with movement, but it only makes the loneliness feel sharper.
—
Today marks his second week in Madrid.
Sae realizes just how useless he is when it comes to directions.
The sun is already beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Madrid, and he has no idea where he is.
The street signs might as well be in a foreign language—which, technically, they are. He squints at them, but the unfamiliar words blur together, useless in helping him find his way. And as for Spanish? Well, he knows about as much as a toddler forming his first sentence.
Great.
Of course, it’s at a time like this that he remembers you.
Because you were always the human GPS between the two of you, navigating streets like you had a built-in map inside your head. You always knew the right turns to take, the fastest shortcuts.
And right now? Right now, he is the one most in need of that skill.
Rin thinks Sae is perfect, so he probably doesn’t even know about this little flaw of his.
Sae scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s ridiculous that, even now, when he’s supposed to be moving on, he still finds himself thinking about you.
He exhales sharply, pushing the thoughts away.
Enough.
With renewed determination, Sae steps onto the crosswalk, telling himself—again—that it’s time to leave his childhood love in the past.
But by the time he reaches the middle, doubt creeps in—just enough for him to hesitate, just enough for him to misstep.
And just enough for him to accidentally bump into someone walking from the opposite direction.
"Perdón," the girl mutters, barely sparing him a glance—until she does.
She stops short, eyes widening in surprise.
"Oh."
Sae blinks.
"It’s you."
For a moment, the city fades into the background. The people rushing past, the hum of conversation, the faint honking of impatient drivers—it all disappears.
You look different now. Your hair is dyed, a little wavier than before. A stylish bag hangs off your shoulder, outfit effortlessly put together in a way that makes you stand out even in the middle of Madrid.
But to him, you’re still the same stubborn girl who once barged into his soccer game with Rin, the one who never asked for permission—just demanded a pass like you belonged there. The one who never looked at him like everyone else did.
Your eyes are the same. That’s what catches him the most. Time has changed a lot of things, but not that. They still hold the same warmth, the same quiet confidence.
Sae wonders if he looks different to you, too. If you notice the way his shoulders have grown broader, the way the exhaustion lingers under his eyes. If you can tell that beneath all the fame and titles, there’s still a part of him that never stopped waiting for you.
Neither of you speak. Just stood there, caught in something neither of you were prepared for.
Sae exhales, then—without thinking—extends his hand toward you
But before you can take it, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.
"¡Oye! Move it!"
The traffic officer’s whistle cuts through the air, snapping both of you out of your daze.
Startled, you both turn at the same time, realizing the light has already turned green—and you’re still standing in the middle of the crosswalk.
Reality has always had a way of interrupting you two, hasn’t it?
Sae clenches his jaw, frustration flickering across his face.
Meanwhile, you weren’t handling it any better—because instead of just walking away like a normal person, you were flipping off the traffic officer and hurling a wooden spoon at him.
Where did you even get that? Sae has no idea. And honestly, he’s not sure he wants to.
But then he feels you grab his arm, yanking him across the street as you break into a run—both of you fleeing from the traffic officer, who Sae can only assume is cursing you out in rapid Spanish.
And just like that, his expression softens.
—
“Whew, that was close,” you say between heavy breaths, still catching your breath from all that running.
Sae glances at you, unimpressed. “Maybe if you didn’t throw a spoon at him, we wouldn’t have to run.”
You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Oh, please. That guy already hates me. This isn’t even the first time, you know.”
Sae raises a brow. “Not surprised.”
You nudge him with your elbow. “Hey! Rude.”
He exhales sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What did you do to piss him off before?”
You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Sae gives you a look—unamused but intrigued nonetheless. “I would, actually.”
You grin, pretending to think. “Let’s just say… it involved a churro cart, an old lady, and a very, very unfortunate slip on my part.”
Sae stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a menace.”
You flash him a cheeky smile. “And yet, here you are, running away from traffic officers with me.”
He huffs but doesn’t argue. Because, somehow, you’re right—because he’s relieved that he can finally talk to someone other than his manager, and just as relieved to see that you haven’t changed at all.
Isn’t it ironic? The very day he decides to finally let go of your memory, fate throws you right back into his life.
But something nags at him. You haven’t asked about Madrid, about why he’s here. It’s like you’re not surprised at all, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to bump into him on the street.
Sae narrows his eyes slightly before speaking.
“Hey, you’re not gonna ask?”
“Ask what?” you blink at him, confused. Then, as if remembering something, your face lights up. “Oh! Where are my manners?”
Before he can react, you throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.
Sae stiffens, caught completely off guard. But before he can say anything, you sigh dramatically against his shoulder. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you followed me all the way to Spain. Oh, you really do love me.”
He clicks his tongue, exasperated. You’re being an idiot again—definitely pushing it.
But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t deny it.
Instead, after a brief hesitation, he exhales and wraps a single arm around you, listening as you ramble on like no time has passed at all.
—
“Maybe I should put a tracker on you.” you tease, walking a step ahead of Sae as you lead him through the narrow streets of Madrid.
He exhales sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”
You throw him a look over your shoulder. “Yeah, sure. After getting lost for another three hours.”
Sae doesn’t bother denying it. Instead, he follows as you turn into an alleyway, stopping in front of a small, unassuming café tucked between two buildings.
“This place has the best tostada con tomate in the city,” you say, nodding toward the café.
“The old man inside—Rafa—he always yells at me for ordering too much, but then he sneaks me an extra pastry for free.”
As if on cue, the door swings open, and an elderly man steps out. His eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “¡Ah, mira quién es! La niña que me arruina el negocio.” (Ah, look who it is! The girl who’s ruining my business.)
You laugh, stepping forward to greet him. “Don’t lie, Rafa. You love me.”
Rafa scoffs but affectionately ruffles your hair before turning to Sae, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “¿Y este quién es?” (And who’s this?)
“My amigo,” you reply smoothly, though there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. “He just moved here, so I’m showing him around.”
Rafa studies Sae for a moment before nodding in approval. “Bien. Come inside. I’ll make sure he eats something decent.”
Sae barely has time to protest before you’re dragging him through the door, the scent of warm spices and grilled meat immediately filling the air.
The restaurant is small, a little tucked away from the busier streets, but it’s lively, filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation.
When the food arrives, you dig in without
hesitation, taking a bite and immediately letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god,” you moan, clutching your chest like you’ve just ascended to heaven. “This is it. This is what happiness tastes like.”
Sae raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sound ridiculous.”
“You sound jealous,” you retort, shoveling another bite into your mouth. “You haven’t even touched your food.”
Sae watches you for a moment. The way you eat so shamelessly, without a care for how you look, is something he vaguely remembers from when you were kids. Some things never change.
“I’m just letting you be the poison tester,” he mutters, finally picking up his fork.
You roll your eyes. “Please. If Rafa wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it years ago.”
Rafa, passing by, snorts. “She’s not wrong.”
Sae sighs, finally taking a bite. He won’t admit it, but it’s good. Really good.
Just as you’re finishing your plate, you glance at your phone and stand abruptly. “Be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”
Sae only scoffs in response, watching as you disappear towards the bathroom.
The moment you’re gone, Rafa leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to Sae with a knowing smirk.
“She talked about you before, you know,” Rafa says casually.
Sae tenses slightly. “Did she?”
Rafa nods, chuckling. “Not by name. Just 'some guy I used to know who’s hopeless with anything besides soccer and even worse with emotions.'"
Sae huffs. “Sounds like her.”
Rafa shrugs. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you better get used to her dragging you everywhere. She’s got a habit of making lost people feel at home.”
Sae doesn’t respond, just looks at him, expression unreadable. Rafa only chuckles, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter.
A moment later, you return, eyes narrowing the second you spot them. “What’s this?” you ask suspiciously, sliding back into your seat. “What were you two talking about?”
Rafa smirks, tilting his head towards Sae. “Oh, nothing much. Just sharing stories.”
You gasp dramatically, pointing a finger at Sae.
“You weren’t talking bad about me, were you?”
Sae finally speaks, deadpan. “Wouldn’t need to. You embarrass yourself enough.”
You scoff, reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. “Unbelievable. I leave for one second, and you two become best friends conspiring against me.”
Rafa laughs. “Don’t worry, querida. He’s not that easy to befriend.”
You nod sagely. “That’s true. I had to force him to like me.”
Sae rolls his eyes. That was true for most people, but definitely not for you.
He liked you from the get-go, like there was a gravitational pull towards you that he just couldn't escape from.
The day continues like that.
You don’t take him to the usual tourist spots—the grand plazas or famous museums. Instead, you show him the Madrid you love.
A tucked-away bookstore where the owner lets you sit and read for hours without buying anything.
A tiny family-run tapas bar where the food is cheap but incredible, and the owners greet you like family. A rooftop spot where you swear the sunset looks better than anywhere else in the city.
Everywhere you go, you introduce him like he belongs there.
By the time the sky turns golden, Sae realizes something.
This isn’t just a city to you. It’s a home.
And for the first time since moving here, Madrid doesn’t feel so unfamiliar to him anymore.
Maybe it’s because he’s finally seeing it through your eyes.
And maybe that so-called puppy love Rin talked about is beginning to grow into something more.