𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫! ┅ 𝖲𝖺𝖾 𝖨𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 & 𝖬𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘢𝘦 𝘐𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺?
NOTE: I’m back on that Blue Lock grind for today! I keep forgetting how much I freaking love the Itoshi brothers and yes the title is inspired by ohshc’s Renge!
It starts with something small. Sae notices it during cooldown.
No, not the drills, not the coach barking instructions, not even the way his teammates keep sneaking glances at him after that post-game comment.
No, he's staring at his perfectly capable and wonderful manager.
You’re standing at the edge of the pitch, tablet in hand, speaking to one of the assistant trainers. Your expression is the same as always, bright, attentive, soft in a way that makes people listen without realizing they’re being managed. He knows that feeling all to well.
You nod, jot something down, then turn and someone else stops you.
Sae clicks his tongue. “Tch.”
“Oi, Itoshi, you good?” one of his teammates asks.
He doesn’t answer and instead walks towards the changerooms. Because you were just about to walk over to him he knows you were.
He saw the way your feet angled toward him before someone intercepted you with a question about recovery schedules.
Now you’re focusing your attention at them instead.
By the time he gets to the locker room, you’re not there.
You’re never late, which means you’re busy. Probably held up by some interviewers somewhere.
Sae sits down harder than necessary, towel slung over his shoulders, irritation simmering just beneath his skin.
He doesn’t like this feeling.
It’s so incredibly tepid.
You finally appear ten minutes later.
“Sorry,” you say immediately, already moving. “The nutritionist wanted to adjust your intake for the next match, and then the media liaison—”
Then you smile. “Only by ten minutes, Sae.”
You hum, unconcerned, already handing him a bottle. “Hydrate first. Then you can complain all you want.”
He takes it. Of course he does, but his eyes don’t leave you.
You’re moving again, tapping away at that ipad, or jotting something down on your clipboard.. Always moving. Checking, adjusting, fixing things before they can even become problems.
Someone calls your name from the hallway.
You turn. “Just a second! I’ll see you later Sae, be on your best behaviour kay!”
And then you’re gone again. Sae stares at the space you left behind.
This is getting annoying.
On the bus he tries to sit next to you, but the coach pulls you into a discussion about strategy.
At the hotel you knock on his door, but before you can step in, your phone rings and you apologize, stepping away.
At dinner you sit across from him for exactly six minutes before one of the staff asks for your help with scheduling.
What does a guy have to do to get just half an hour alone with you? He’s debating calling the paparazzi on himself.
By the time you return, his food is already half-finished.
You slide back into your seat like nothing happened, offering that same gentle smile. “Sorry. Where were we?”
He stares at you. “…You don’t even remember.”
He sets his fork down. “I was talking.”
“And I’m listening now,” you say easily.
You always are. Just never long enough.
Later that night, you’re in the hallway outside the conference rooms, flipping through your tablet again.
Sae finds you there. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, exactly where everyone needs you, except him.
“Sae?” you look up, surprised. “Did you need something?”
Need. The word grates in his head.
Your attention sharpens immediately. “What is it? Are you feeling off? I can call—”
You pause. “…Okay,” you say softly, smile returning. “We can—”
Another pause. Your eyes flicker, just for a second, toward the conference room behind you. It’s about to start and you can hear the voices inside.
You hesitate. “…Give me five minutes,” you say gently.
Sae’s jaw tightens. “No.”
His hand closes around your wrist before you can turn away. “I don’t want any interruptions later. Or else I’ll tell Rin to set up a pap walk.”
You stiffen slightly. Is he really threatening you right now?
“Sae last time that happened we had to make you publicly apologise, please don’t tell me you want to make my job harder than it already is.” Your voice comes out in a slight quiver, already dreading the mass emails you’ll have to send.
“If you listen I won’t do it.”
You enter the meeting room and sit beside the other managers. Your eyes do a quick sweep and it makes you release the sigh you’ve been keeping in your chest.
You try to focus on the subject at hand but it's not easy when you have a simmering player to cool down. There's nothing you can do about it now except to try and appease him. A manager's number one goal is to always keep their player happy after all.
In the car Sae exhales slowly, gaze fixed on the road, although occasionally stealing glances at the woman beside him.
“I’m starting to think you like tepid things.” His voice breaks the air of silence between you two.
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can’t even eat your lunch because you’re so busy. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“That’s one time I usually always eat properly.”
You huff, crossing your arms, but there’s no real bite to it. “I am not lying. I just—today was busy.”
“Every day is busy for you,” Sae replies flatly.
The car falls quiet again, save for the low hum of the engine and the faint city lights passing by outside. You glance at him, then away, then back again, like you’re trying to figure out what exactly he wants from you.
“…So,” you start carefully, “you dragged me out mid-schedule, threatened to cause a PR disaster, and now you’re criticizing my eating habits?”
You blink at him. “…Sae.”
He clicks his tongue softly. “Whatever.”
“You’re always doing shit for other people.”
Sae doesn’t look at you when he says it, eyes fixed ahead, fingers tapping once against the steering wheel before going still again.
“You run around all day fixing things,” he continues. “Schedules, meals, media, recovery…everyone gets your time.”
His grip tightens slightly.
“…except me who’s your player.”
The words land softer than anything he’s said all day.
“Sae…” your voice gentles instantly, all that teasing gone. “Is that what this is about?”
You shift in your seat, turning toward him fully now, your expression soft in that way he hates because it makes his chest feel too tight.
“I didn’t realize you were feeling like that,” you admit. “I thought you understood how things get during match weeks.”
You blink, then laugh a little. “You’re kind of selfish, you know that?”
You smile wider. “At least you’re self-aware.”
You reach out, hesitating only a second before gently taking his hand off the steering wheel, just for a moment, giving it a small squeeze before letting go.
“I’m not ignoring you,” you say. “You’re just… hard to schedule around.”
“I’m the easiest person to schedule around.”
You snort. “You cancel things whenever you feel like it.”
You laugh again, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”
You lean back into your seat, shoulders relaxing for what might be the first time all day.
“Okay,” you say after a moment. “Then let’s fix it.”
His brow furrows slightly. “Fix what?”
“You,” you reply simply. “And your very dramatic problem.”
“You are,” you cut in lightly. “But it’s fine. I’m a professional.”
He exhales through his nose. “So what’s your plan, manager?”
You grin, a little playful now. “Tomorrow. After training. Thirty minutes.”
“That’s a lot,” you protest. “Do you know how hard it is to get thirty uninterrupted minutes during a match week?”
You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. “Thirty minutes,” you repeat. “No interruptions. Just you and me. Okay?”
Sae is quiet for a second.
You stare at him. “…Sae.”
“You’re negotiating now?”
You sigh dramatically, like this is the greatest burden ever placed upon you. “…Fine. Forty-five minutes.”
“And,” you add, pointing at him, “no threatening paparazzi.”
You settle back again, satisfied. “See? Problem solved.”
He hums softly, but there’s something lighter about him now. The tension that’s been clinging to his shoulders all day finally easing.
After a moment, he speaks again, quieter this time.
“…You better not get interrupted.”
You smile, softer than before.
“But if I do, I trust you’ll handle it maturely.”
Sae glances at you, completely unimpressed. “I’ll call Rin.”
You laugh slightly, you know Rin well enough that he might actually do it.
Sae can deal with this for a little while longer. But as soon as the season ends he’s bringing you back to Spain and hiding that damn tablet.
