Japanese tabloids speculated, but now sources close to the couple confirm: Rumi had been involved in an affair with none other than Juan Ruiz.
Yes, that Juan. The longtime rival. The bitter nemesis. The man whose name is practically always spoken in the same breath as Hayashi’s.
Caught together at a resort in the Canary Islands, it wasn’t just a betrayal. It was calculated.
“He could’ve retired,” one source said. “He had every reason to walk away. But he didn’t. He finished out the season with FC Tokyo, led them to another league title, and walked away like a king.”
I swallowed hard, eyes darting to the next paragraph.
Now a free agent, Hayashi is reportedly in talks with multiple clubs—but SWM Storm has emerged as a frontrunner. A visit to their Michigan front office is rumored for next week. Sources say he’s looking for a fresh start away from the scrutiny of Japanese media. A new league. A new city. A new legacy.
But more than that? He wants control back.
“This isn’t about legacy,” the same source told me. “It’s personal now. He’s got something to prove—and he’s not done yet.”
I stared at the screen long after I finished reading.
A player like Hayashi would be a dream for any club. But for ours? It would be a nuclear bomb of press, hype, and expectations.
My fingers hovered over my phone, debating whether to forward the article to Cam. But I already knew—he’d seen it. Probably bookmarked it. Probably had a new PR campaign bubbling in the back of his brain. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he was part of the article as one of these sources, hoping to tip the scales in the Storm's favor.
I sat back, trying to pretend my pulse wasn’t racing.
Kakashi freaking Hayashi.
This was going to get messy.
And maybe… brilliant.
I set my phone down, the article still glowing faintly on the screen.
Kakashi Hayashi.
That name alone could carry us through the rest of the season’s PR chaos. The speculation alone had already yanked the media’s attention from Kieren’s “mystery girl” and back where it belonged—on transfers, strategy, and the future of the Storm.
Maybe this was a good thing. A reset.
A way out.
I took a long sip of lukewarm tea and stared out the office window. My reflection looked tired. Not tragic, not broken—just… tired. And maybe that was okay.
Because the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Kieren had been emotional. That night, the way he’d looked at me—it wasn’t real. Not fully. It was heat and history and pent-up frustration finally boiling over. I didn’t doubt that he felt something, but love? No. Not the kind that sticks. Not the kind that makes someone stay.
He’d realize it soon enough. Realize I wasn’t what he thought I was.
I wasn’t fearless. I wasn’t soft. I wasn’t someone you fell into and got to keep.
He’d find someone else—someone easier. Someone without all this weight wrapped around her ribs. Someone who didn’t flinch at the idea of being known.
And I would be okay with that.
I wasn’t built for this, and I think I always knew it. Even when I loved him the first time. Even when I watched him walk away without asking me to come.
But now?
Now I know it for sure. That moment we had—beautiful, messy, doomed—it was done. And it gave me clarity, if nothing else.
I still had work to do. We had to finish what we started—this fake dating campaign, the PR push, the corporate deliverables, all of it. I gave my word, and I didn’t break that. I never had. He knew that about me.
