I stood up, pacing, already rehearsing pitches. Media rollouts. Exclusive interviews. A full rebrand campaign centered on legacy, fire, loyalty. The kind of campaign that could reshape the team’s image—and bury the tension between Kieren and Theo in a wave of hype.
I should be excited.
And I was. On paper.
But something tightened in my chest, anyway. Something quiet and ugly.
Because if this went through, Kieren wouldn’t just have to share the spotlight.
He’d be standing next to a man the world had already decided was everything he should be. Polished. Charming. Safe.
And I would have to market that. Package it. Sell it.
We'd probably do a quiet breakup to give Kakashi the spotlight.
Which was good.
I closed the app and leaned both hands on the counter.
Focus.
This was good for the team. Good for the brand. Good for me.
And maybe—just maybe—if I kept working hard enough, fast enough, like none of this touched me, then someday it would actually be true.
I picked up my phone again and opened Cam’s text thread.
Heard anything official about Hayashi?
The dots appeared almost immediately.
Nothing confirmed. But the buzz is loud for a reason.
I blew out a breath, eyes on the window. The sky outside was still that soft, winter gray—overcast, like it couldn’t decide whether to rain or snow.
A perfect day for rumors.
And for burying myself in work before I felt too much again.
Except…
I didn’t mean to fall down a social media rabbit hole. Honestly. I was going back to work. But then… One second I was scrolling Twitter over half-eaten sushi, and the next I spotted Leo’s profile pic—my college friend turned international football journalist—tagging the SWM Storm.
@LeoWritesFooty: ?? If the rumors are true, the Midwest is about to become the center of the fútbol universe. #KakashiToSWM #HayashiHighlights
I clicked the link before I could talk myself out of it. The headline hit like a caffeine jolt:
From Golden Boy to Free Agent: Why Kakashi Hayashi Might Be Headed Stateside
Leo’s article started strong.
By the time Kakashi Hayashi was 18, the world already knew his name.
At 37, he’s still the face of international football—unstoppable on the pitch, untouchable in the record books. But off the field? Everything changed.
I leaned closer, ignoring the blinking cursor in the spreadsheet I’d been working on.
The rumors began six months ago, when Hayashi abruptly withdrew from a multi-million euro sponsorship. Shortly after, Rumi Hayashi—his wife and high school sweetheart—deleted every photo of him from her social media accounts.
