blue lock: playmaker's choice | masterlist
request by: anon, @isagiswifey
prompt: isagi + one bed trope
a/n: feel free to read my series "all-star training" on wattpad, it's edited so the story flows nicer and there's also an extra five chapters not on tumblr of sae and reader's date
the bus ride to the hotel was dead silent, the kind of exhausted, heavy silence only a full ninety-minute war on the pitch could create. you sat near the front, scrolling through confirmation emails, cross-checking room assignments, and reminding yourself that you loved your job. you really did.
even on days like this.
especially on days like this… when one particular player kept hovering so close behind your shoulder you could practically feel his breath warming your neck.
“uh… you okay?” you asked, glancing back.
isagi yoichi blinked at you, bleary-eyed, hair slightly messy from the match. “huh? yeah- yeah, i’m good. just… tired.”
he didn’t move, though. just stayed right there, half leaning over your seat like a sleepy golden retriever unsure where to sit.
you worked your way down the confirmation list again.
rooms assigned? check.
players accounted for? check.
isagi hovering behind you instead of resting like a normal human? …check.
the bus finally pulled up to the hotel, and the players groaned as reality forced them to stand. you were already on your feet, bag slung across your shoulder, clipboard in hand.
“alright, guys,” you called, “let’s try not to collapse in the lobby. it would really help me out.”
kunigami gave a thumbs-up that said no promises. bachira stretched like a cat. isagi walked beside you, silent but close enough that your arms kept brushing.
he didn’t usually cling like this… unless he was drained. you’d learned the signs: glazed eyes, shy quietness, and the way he kept looking at you like you were grounding him.
“you okay? for real this time,” you asked, nudging him gently.
“mm.” he nodded. “just… staying near you.”
your heart did a stupid flip you pretended not to feel.
you checked in at the desk, gave the list of names and confirmed the reservation. the receptionist’s polite smile faltered.
oh no.
she typed again. checked the system. looked at you like someone who really wished she could disappear into the carpet.
“that’s… not a good face,” you said, gripping the counter.
“um,” the clerk said softly, “i’m so sorry, but… there seems to be an issue with the number of available rooms.”
behind you, isagi perked up like a meerkat sensing danger.
you tried to keep your voice level. “what kind of issue?”
the kind that made the receptionist wince. “we had an overbooking tonight. the rooms you requested… there aren’t enough for everyone.”
you inhaled slowly. exhaled even slower. behind you, the entire team groaned.
“okay,” you said. “how many rooms are available?”
the receptionist counted on their fingers, typed some more, then looked up apologetically.
“all except one. one of your reserved rooms ended up being double-booked. there’s only one bed in it.”
you blinked.
the world briefly tilted.
you felt isagi shift closer behind you, his shoulder almost touching yours. “wait… which room?” he asked, voice small, almost nervous.
the clerk handed you the updated room list.
of course.
of course.
your name and isagi yoichi were listed together.
you slowly lowered the paper. isagi watched your expression like it held the fate of his soul.
“…so,” you said, “funny story.”
his eyes widened. “what story?”
you gave him the list.
“…this- this can’t- wait- hold on-” he blinked again, as if that would magically change the words on the page.
it didn’t.
you could practically hear the gears grinding in his head.
“isagi,” you started gently, “it’s just one night. we’re both adults, it’ll be fine-”
“fine?” his voice cracked like he’d been hit with a surprise penalty. “f-fine?!” you raised a brow. “i mean- i’m not- i wouldn’t-! i just- sleeping next to you is-!”
you tried not to smile, because you could feel the heat radiating off him. “it’s okay,” you repeated. “seriously. it’s better than someone having to sleep in the hallway.”
he paused. his eyes flicked up to yours, wide, like he’d just sprinted a full field.
“…you’d pick the hallway over sharing a bed with me?” he sounded equal parts hurt and horrified.
“what? no!” you laughed. “i’m saying it’s better than that happening.”
“oh. okay. good. yeah. i mean- yeah-” he rubbed the back of his neck. “just making sure.”
behind you, bachira leaned over isagi’s shoulder with a grin so sharp it should’ve been illegal.
“oohhhh~ yoichi, are you gonna cuddle~?”
isagi turned bright red. almost purple. “shut up!”
bachira cackled and wandered off to find his own room, happily leaving the chaos behind. chigiri clapped isagi on the back with a sympathetic wince.
“good luck,” he whispered.
you grabbed his wrist gently, pulling him toward the elevators before he could spiral any harder.
“come on,” you said. “let’s go drop off our stuff. we can figure out sleeping arrangements later.”
isagi followed, stiff as a board, every step measured like he was walking toward a battlefield instead of a hotel room.
in the elevator, he cleared his throat.
“…you know i won’t do anything weird, right?” he said, voice small but painfully sincere. “like- i won’t make you uncomfortable. i swear.”
your chest softened instantly. “i know, yoichi. you’re the last person i’d worry about.”
he blinked.
“oh,” he said, cheeks warming again. “okay. good. um. cool.”
the elevator chimed, doors sliding open. you stepped out, he followed so closely behind you that your bags bumped.
finally, you reached your room.
your shared room.
♕♕♕
the door had barely clicked shut behind you guys before isagi tripped over his own feet.
not literally - but emotionally? mentally? spiritually?
absolutely.
you dropped your bag by the dresser, stretching your arms overhead with a relieved groan.
isagi froze.
because your shirt lifted a little.
because your voice was soft and tired.
because you looked way too comfortable being here with him.
he spun around so fast he smacked his knee on the corner of the bed frame.
“ow-!!!!”
you whipped around. “yoichi?!”
he hunched over, gripping his knee like it betrayed him.
“i’m fine-” he wheezed, face scrunched in pain. “totally okay. perfect. never been better.”
you knelt beside him.
he immediately turned even redder.
“let me see,” you said.
“no, it’s fine!” he backed up until his shoulders hit the wall. “really, you don’t- it’s good, i swear.”
“isagi.”
you gave him that tone.
he shut up immediately. like a scolded puppy, he let you gently check his knee. it wasn’t anything serious, just clumsy.
“you’re so dramatic,” you said with a tiny smile.
he sputtered. “me?! i’m not dramatic!”
you tilted your head.
he wilted.
you stood and went back to unpacking. isagi pretended to do the same… which meant he rummaged through his bag while sneak-peeking at you every eight seconds like clockwork.
and then he froze again.
because you were taking out your sleepwear.
you didn’t notice his eyes widen, or the way he instinctively looked away, ears burning.
he swallowed hard. “so- um,” he stammered, “you’re gonna… change?”
you blinked. “yeah…?”
“here?” his voice sounded like you’d just suggested performing surgery in the hotel room.
“relax, yoichi,” you said, amused. “i’m going to use the bathroom.”
“oh. right.” he raked a hand through his hair, exhaling in relief. “of course. bathroom. that makes sense. yeah.”
you picked up your clothes and walked past him. he stiffened like a statue as you brushed by. once the bathroom door shut, isagi let out a long, tortured groan and collapsed face-first onto the bed.
“miserable,” he whispered into the pillow. “i’m so miserable.”
he didn’t move until he heard the bathroom door open.
and when he lifted his head you were standing there in your sleep clothes, hair damp from splashing water on your face, looking soft and cozy and unfairly cute.
isagi bolted upright so fast the bed squeaked. “you look- i mean-! comfortable! warm?? good. you look good! ahhh- i should go change.”
he snatched his clothes and practically sprinted into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
you stared at the door…
then burst out laughing.
inside, isagi slid down the wall, covering his burning face with both hands. “this is the worst night of my life,” he whispered.
but the tiny smile tugging at his lips suggested it wasn’t the worst at all.
not even close.
isagi stepped out of the bathroom in his sleep clothes, sweatpants and a simple tee, but somehow he looked even more tense than when he’d gone in.
like he’d practiced breathing exercises and failed.
badly.
you were sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling your phone.
isagi froze.
“so that’s… the bed,” he said, like it wasn’t the most obvious sentence in human history.
you snorted. “yes, yoichi. that is the bed.” he made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. “we can take sides,” you said casually.
“sides,” he repeated, nodding too fast. “yes. sides. very… tactical.”
you raised a brow. “tactical?”
“mmhm,” he croaked, ears bright red.
he was spiraling. you tried not to grin. “okay, genius,” you teased, patting the mattress. “pick your side.”
isagi straightened, gathering every ounce of dignity he had left.
“i’ll take this side.” he pointed to the side closer to the door.
“why that one?” you asked, curious.
“because if danger happens i can… uh… shield you? or whatever.”
you blinked at him.
he blinked back.
realizing what he just said, he slapped both hands over his face with a groan. “forget i said anything,” he mumbled into his palms.
you laughed softly. “no, i heard all of that.”
he slumped. “of course you did…”
despite his embarrassment, he climbed into his chosen side, stiff as a board and refusing to make eye contact.
you slipped under the blankets too.
and instantly the room shifted.
isagi inhaled sharply.
you weren’t even touching, but you were close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off you, smell your shampoo, hear every breath you took..
“so… you’re not cold, right?”
“nope.”
“…right. good. cool.”
he swallowed.
then, after a beat:
“if- if you were cold, though… i’d, um. we could. i mean, the blanket is big enough to-”
you turned your head slowly.
he lost the ability to speak.
“i mean share,” he sputtered. “the blanket. not- not anything else.”
you couldn’t help it, you laughed.
isagi immediately buried half his face in the pillow. “this is torture,” he muttered. “literal torture.”
♕♕♕
you didn’t remember falling asleep.
one minute you were teasing isagi until his ears went pink, and the next… the room was quiet, warm, dark. the hotel ac hummed softly. the sheets were thick and cocooning.
you shifted.
something shifted with you.
you froze.
isagi yoichi, star striker, tactical genius, king of overthinking, was absolutely, 100% curled around you.
like a koala.
an anxious, overheated, embarrassingly clingy koala.
his forehead rested against the back of your shoulder. one arm was thrown over your waist like he’d body-checked you into being his personal pillow. his fingers were loosely hooked around the hem of your shirt, like he’d grabbed it in his sleep and refused to let go.
he breathed out, warm against your neck.
“oh,” you whispered. “so this is how we’re doing things.”
for a moment, you let yourself relax into his hold, just a fraction, just enough to feel the soft steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.
then, because the universe has impeccable comedic timing, isagi jolted awake.
he blinked.
realized the situation.
and went absolutely catatonic.
his arm stayed frozen around you like his brain couldn’t decide whether to snatch it back or pretend he’d meant to do this all along.
“…oh my god,” he whispered hoarsely.
“hello to you too,” you murmured. he didn’t move. “yoichi?” you asked, turning your head slightly.
his hand yeeted off you so fast he nearly threw it across the room. “nothing happened,” he blurted, sitting bolt upright.
you blinked. “i didn’t say anything happened.”
“good. because nothing. did.” he was red. entire face. neck. ears. the whole package.
you stretched, far more amused than you should’ve been. “you were cuddling me.”
“i was unconscious,” he argued, horrified. “unconscious people can’t be held responsible for that.”
“for what?” you asked sweetly.
he made a dying-whale noise and covered his face with a pillow.
you nudged his shoulder gently. “yoichi. it’s fine.”
“it’s not fine,” he mumbled into the pillow. “i didn’t mean to-”
you laughed softly, and he flopped back onto the mattress, pillow still covering half his face.
finally, he peeked out with one tortured blue eye.
“…was it weird?” he asked quietly, suddenly small.
you tilted your head. “no. kinda cute, actually.”
he stared.
then melted.
then panicked.
then hid under the pillow again.
you reached over and tugged gently on the corner of it. “hey. i like you, you know.”
his soul left his body.
“please don’t say that when i’m defenseless,” he whispered.
“you’re the one who curled around me like a heating pad.”
“that was instinct,” he sputtered. “i was cold. or maybe you were. or- look, i don’t even know anymore.”
you grinned. “so you’re admitting you did cuddle me.”
“i don’t recall the events and therefore they can’t be used against me in court.”
you fell back onto the pillows, laughing.
isagi, still tomato-red and flustered beyond repair, lay there in mortified silence… but this time?
he inched just a tiny bit closer.
on purpose.
♕♕♕
you thought morning cuddles and isagi melting into the mattress from embarrassment would be the highlight of your day.
but the universe said: oh, sweetie… buckle up.
because the moment the two of you made it downstairs to regroup with the team, bachira slid over with the world’s widest gremlin grin.
“yoichiii,” he sing-songed, leaning way too close to your boyfriend (yes, boyfriend… spiritually, emotionally, legally pending). “you’re looking extra pink today. something happen last night?”
isagi nearly swallowed air.
“n-nothing! the room was cold! we were cold! hypothermia levels of coldness were happening-”
“so you two shared body heat?” bachira chirped.
isagi crashed.
you could physically see his brain explode behind his eyes.
chigiri floated by with a coffee. “they had one bed, didn’t they?”
kunigami nodded like he was delivering tragic news. “rough.”
you stepped in before isagi combusted. “guys, ease up. he’s still glitching.”
the teasing eventually fizzled, but isagi walked beside you afterward with the stiff, doomed posture of a man who’d been emotionally suplexed.
you bumped his arm lightly. “hey. they’re just messing with you.”
“i know,” he muttered, staring at the floor. “i just… don’t like them assuming stuff about you. or us. or- whatever.”
you softened. “yoichi. we’re fine.”
he nodded, but something lingered behind his eyes, something tense, something worried, something almost… scared.
and oh boy, did it come out later.
♕♕♕
after the team’s evening strategy meeting, everyone dispersed to their rooms. you were flipping through your notes on tomorrow’s schedule when isagi paced around the single bed like he was preparing to fight god.
“are you okay?” you asked, brows lifting.
he stopped.
turned.
opened his mouth.
closed it.
walked in a circle again.
you blinked. “…yoichi?”
“i’m trying to say something,” he blurted. “but my brain is being a little piece of shit.”
a laugh bubbled out of you. “take your time.”
“that’s the problem,” he said, voice cracking. “if i take my time, i’m never gonna say it, and if i don’t say it, i’ll-” he groaned and grabbed his hair. “ughh i’m so bad at this.”
you sat on the edge of the bed, gentle. “hey. it’s just me.”
his steps stuttered.
something in him froze, like those words physically hit him.
“it’s just you,” he echoed softly, like the phrase meant way more to him than it should.
he exhaled a shaky breath, walked over, and stood in front of you. hands fidgeting. shoulders tense. eyes darting everywhere except your face.
then, in the smallest voice you’d ever heard from him:
“i like you.”
your heart spiked. “yoichi-”
“no- no, i mean-” he slapped a hand over his face, groaning into it. “i really like you. like, way more than i’m supposed to. and last night, when i woke up and realized i was holding you, i freaked out because i didn’t want you to think i was being weird or taking advantage or-”
“yoichi.”
“but i also didn’t want you to move. at all. i didn’t want to let go.” his voice wobbled. “and today, when everyone teased us, i wasn’t embarrassed because of you, i was embarrassed because they were right, because i want to hold you on purpose.”
you stood slowly.
he froze like he’d made a fatal mistake.
“so…” he whispered. “if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. i’ll dial it back. i’ll stop being weird. i’ll never bother you with it again-”
you reached forward and took his hand.
he stopped breathing.
“yoichi,” you said softly. “i like you too.”
isagi stared at you like you’d just told him gravity was optional.
“…you do?” he whispered.
you squeezed his hand. “yeah. a lot.”
his knees literally buckled.
“oh thank god,” he burst out, collapsing into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist, forehead landing on your shoulder like he was seconds away from bawling in relief. “i’ve been dying. i thought you were gonna reject me. or laugh. or tell me i imagined everything-"
you stroked his hair. “you’re dramatic.”
“you like me,” he mumbled, voice muffled into your collar. “you actually like me. i’m gonna pass out.”
you smiled, tugging him closer. “you’re not allowed to pass out. i still need to tell you something.”
he looked up with wide blue eyes. “what?”
you leaned in, close enough to feel his breath catch. “i liked waking up with you holding me.”
his face went red.
“this is the best and worst day of my life,” he whispered.
you laughed, cupping his cheek. “come here.”
and when you kissed him, he made a sound, tiny, broken, and so overwhelmed it almost knocked you over.
he clutched you like he was scared you’d disappear if he didn’t.
like he’d been waiting to do this for way, way too long.
♕♕♕
the next morning, you woke up first.
what you didn’t expect?
isagi yoichi, newly-confessed, newly-kissed, newly-very-much-your-boyfriend (finally), wrapped around you like a koala who had no intention of ever letting go.
he was out cold, cheek smooshed against your shoulder, one arm snug around your waist, one leg hooked over yours like he was afraid gravity might suddenly try to steal you.
you smiled a little.
then gently tapped his shoulder. “yoichi. morning.”
a groan.
then he tightened his hold like you were a pillow someone was trying to steal.
“five more minutes,” he mumbled sleepily.
you brushed your fingers through his hair. “we need to go downstairs.”
“no,” he mumbled. “downstairs is loud. here is soft.”
your heart did a stupid, embarrassing flip. “yoichi.”
his eyes cracked open.
his whole body stiffened.
and then- “…are we dating?”
you snorted. “we literally kissed last night.”
“oh. right.” he melted again. “sick.”
♕♕♕
you both walked down together.
not touching. definitely not holding hands. absolutely not blushing (you were both doing all three).
the moment you stepped into the dining area, bachira’s eyes snapped to you like a heat-seeking missile and he grinned.
dangerously.
“good mooooorning~”
isagi panicked. “i didn’t do anything.”
the entire table froze.
kunigami slowly lowered his coffee. “we didn’t accuse you of anything.”
chigiri raised a brow. “should we have?”
isagi’s soul left his body.
reo leaned forward. “oh? oh? what happened?”
nagi, who was barely awake, mumbled without even looking up, “they kissed.”
isagi choked. “nagi what the- how-”
nagi shrugged. “you smell different.”
you blinked. “different?”
“yeah. like… happy.” then he yawned and sipped orange juice like he hadn’t just spiritually assassinated isagi in front of the whole team.
bachira gasped dramatically. “no way. you two didn’t-”
“we didn’t do anything,” isagi yelped, face redder than a whole brick wall. “we just- we only- there was kissing, but not like that! what is wrong with you-”
reo fist-pumped. “finally.”
chigiri smirked. “took you long enough.”
kunigami nodded sagely. “good for you, man.”
isagi looked like he needed a defibrillator.
you nudged him gently. “hey. it’s fine.”
he slumped. “i’m never going to live this down.”
bachira wrapped an arm around him. “correct!”
after breakfast, the two of you slipped away to get your stuff before heading to the bus. isagi lingered by the door, fidgeting with his zipper, not looking at you.
“you okay?” you asked gently.
he rubbed the back of his neck. “yeah. just… um… thinking.”
“about?”
he swallowed.
then stepped close to you and took your hand awkwardly, like he was afraid he’d do it wrong.
“can i…” he murmured, cheeks dusted pink, eyes darting to yours. “…say it properly?”
your chest tightened. “say what?”
“that you’re my-” he cut himself off, exhaling shakily. “-my partner. my person. my… everything.”
you blinked, warmth hitting you full force. “yoichi-”
he took both your hands, squeezing tight.
“i know this isn’t the most romantic place. or the perfect moment. but i don’t wanna wait. not after last night. not after waking up with you again. not after… everything.” his voice went soft. “can i be yours? like… officially?”
you didn’t answer.
you just leaned up and kissed him.
when you pulled back, you whispered, “you’ve been mine for a long time, yoichi.”
he pressed his forehead to yours. “i’m gonna do everything i can to deserve you.”
❝oh oh...papa's in trouble!❞
starring — fem!reader x itoshi sae
abstract — sae tries to solve your son's problem, but ends up making it worse... wc —1.2k second part of ''do you think my eyes are pretty?''
The next morning, Sae is abruptly woken up by a pair of small hands removing his eye mask and tapping on his face.
‘Daddy,’ the little boy whispers ‘Daddy wake up…you said you were going to take me to school today…’ Ugh…he did say that, didn’t he?
Sae mutters something not so nice under his breath before opening his eyes and sitting down on your bed ‘How many times do I have to tell you to not wake me up like this…’
‘Sorry…’ he’s making that pouty face that never fails to make his father feel bad when he’s disciplining him.
‘Ugh,’ the older Itoshi sighs ‘it’s fine, let’s just get you ready to go’ he says as he stiffly caresses the reddish hair of the boy sitting on his lap. You told him that he needed to be a bit more affectionate with the kid, so he’s making an effort these days.
Your husband steals a look at you, sleeping peacefully now hugging your pillow after he escaped from your embrace, and he can’t help but think that you’re a lucky bastard.
He goes on with his usual morning ritual, yet there’s a slight twist to it today as your son is following him around your house the whole time.
They brush their teeth together, they go through his yoga routine together, while the kid clumsily mimics his father, and when Sae is busy styling his hair in the bathroom mirror, your son tries to replicate his hairstyle but just ends up getting hair gel all over the sink.
‘‘m sorry papa…’ The universe seems to be testing Sae’s patience and paternal skills today.
‘...Let’s just clean this before your mother wakes up.’
‘Can we have breakfast first? ‘m hungry!’ Was he even listening?
Clearly not, because he already stepped off his step stool and bee-lined into the kitchen.
Yeah, this is going to be a long morning.
Sae is certain that the universe is plotting against him today.
They got stuck in traffic on their way to school and the kid hasn’t stopped running his mouth since they’ve left the house.
Now, Sae is not usually bothered by this.
His son is just a kid. They talk a lot. That's just what they do.
But he’s running on six hours of sleep instead of his standard seven. And when you’re feeling sleep deprived, having someone babbling in your ear is the last thing you need — Not to mention that he still has his practice to attend right after this.
So when he sees the school gate he almost sighs in relief. He just wants to get to the principal’s office and get this over with.
As the two itoshi’s parade across the school’s playground, they’re greeted with starstruck stares from the children who quickly recognised the older man as one of the best football players in the world right now.
None of them had the courage to approach them though.
They were just staring as if they saw the monster under the bed, letting their plastic shovels fall off their hands into the sandbox or bumping into each other like dominoes while sliding down the slide.
Having people stare at him creepily is nothing new to Sae, but when it’s a bunch of snotty nose kids doing it it’s a bit more offputting.
‘E-excuse me?’ A meek voice calls out and Sae looks down to see a kid holding a piece of scrap paper he probably got from the bottom of his bag and a black marker that he stole from his classroom.
‘What?’ the kid shrinks at the tone of sae’s voice.
‘Could… C-could you sign here please!’ Sae holds his breath, to prevent a groan or a snicker he doesn’t know.
But even a man like him can admit that the scene in front of him is quite endearing. So why not give the kid what he wants, plus, he doesn’t want to look like a huge dick when his son he’s watching his next step so attentively.
‘Fine.’ he crouches down to the child's height and takes the paper from his trembling hand ‘who’s this for?’
‘T-takahiro’
Oh.
So this is takahiro huh.
Sae takes a glimpse at his son’s displeasured face and already knows what to do. He takes the marker and removes the cap with his teeth before signing it, his son just grins evilly when he sees what his father wrote.
‘Here.’ Takahiro holds the piece of paper like he just found gold.
‘waa, t-thank you mr. Itoshi!’ he runs off with it to brag to the other kids, who are pestering him to see the autograph, without even reading first.
‘Takahiro-kun what does it say!’ ‘Can we see!?’ ‘ Wow, Itoshi-san's handwriting is worse than mine!’
‘It’s a signature dummy, it’s not supposed to look neat!’ Takahiro corrects his insolent classmate before reading the paper out loud.
‘‘Do I…look like a girl to you Takahiro-kun?’’ The boy's boastfulness is gone.
‘Why would he write that?’ ‘ You’re not reading it properly!’ ‘I told you his handwriting was bad…’
He looks up from the paper to see your son sticking his tongue out while he walks into the building hand in hand with his father.
Yeah. Serves him right.
Later that day, your husband and son are finally back home. They both throw their shoes carelessly at the entrance and your son runs out to look for you.
‘Mamaaa! We’re back!’
No response. That’s weird.
Were you not supposed to be back from work?
They find you leaning on the kitchen island with your arms crossed and although your not showing your anger with your face, it’s pretty obvious you’re not happy either.
‘Mama?’
‘Hey sweetheart,’ you forget about how irritated you’re meant to be for a second ‘how was school today?’
‘So cool! I want daddy to take me to school every day!’
‘Of course you do…do you mind going upstairs for a second baby? I need to speak to your daddy right now. Alone.’
‘Okay!’
‘Good boy’ Now that there’s only the two of you in the kitchen, that anger you were suppressing is back. And Sae’s confused.
‘What’s up with you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. You tell me.’ What the hell are you so angry for?
‘Can you just tell me what I did. I don’t have time for this…’
‘Takahiro’s mother sent me a very passive aggressive text today.’
‘Okay? So what?’ His nonchalant attitude is starting to really tick you off.
‘So what? What made you think it was okay to write that to a kid? How petty are you?’ Ah, so that’s what’s up with you.
‘He was being a dickhead to my kid, I was just defending him.’ Of course he thinks he’s in the right…my God.
‘Ugh, whatever’ you give up, there’s no point in arguing with him ‘Just know that you’ll be dropping him and picking him up every day for the next week. I don’t need the other soccer moms' side eyeing me for something you did.’
And Sae doesn’t dare to argue with you either. He knows there’s no point when you speak like that…
He mentally prays that this week goes by fast.
an — ty for reading hope you enjoyed part II <33 divider from;@/saradika-graphics
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