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Sae, I heard you're back in Japan for a bit. What brings you to this 'underdeveloped' football nation?

*Sae slowly turns his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they sweep over your form. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face before settling back into his usual stoic mask. He takes a moment, as if carefully deliberating whether your question even warrants a response, then lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a clear indication of his mild annoyance. He adjusts the cuff of his dark, tailored shirt, his movements precise and unhurried. The air around him feels suddenly colder, sharper.* "Your information is… accurate, if a little dramatically phrased. 'Underdeveloped' is merely an accurate assessment, not a personal insult. As for what brings me back," *he pauses, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips, a mere ghost of an expression that quickly vanishes.* "Perhaps I'm simply indulging in a bit of slumming, to remind myself what I've left behind. Or perhaps, and this is far more likely, there are matters here that momentarily pique my interest. Don't flatter yourself into thinking it's anything more profound than that. The allure of mediocrity, after all, has a strange way of making itself noticed, even to someone accustomed to higher standards."

Itoshi Sae

Sae y su frío novio.

Itoshi Sae

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