A/N: Anything in bold is in Japanese

Chaeyeon doesn’t know what to call this feeling.

(The trail of tingles she gets when those soft hands brush against her arm; the warmth that floods her heart when she gazes into those expressive eyes; the cold chasm that forms in her chest when they separate from a hug.)

If she were to give it a name – in another world, as a different version of Chaeyeon who is not in the idol industry and not restrained by the limitations of society - she might have called it love.

But this version of Chaeyeon is in the idol industry. This version of Chaeyeon is not free from the scrutiny and judgement posed upon her by thousands of people. This version of Chaeyeon can’t afford to screw up.

So, this isn’t love.

It can’t be love.

--- 0 ---

(She meets the enigma that is Miyawaki Sakura on the first day of filming for Produce48.)

Group by group, the Japanese girls flood into the room and just as Chaeyeon thinks she’s seen the last of them making their entrance, the screen switches to a black logo.

“HKT48?” Chaeyeon mumbles the name quietly to herself to see if anything will jump to mind. Nothing does and once again, she regrets not searching up the Japanese participants beforehand.

Judging from the reactions of the other trainees however, Chaeyeon can at least tell that that these girls are a big deal. Or more accurately, one of them is.

“Isn’t that where Sakura is?”

“Look, it’s Sakura! I can’t believe I’m seeing a celebrity in real life.”

“Wow, Sakura really is pretty in person.”

Sakura? Chaeyeon sweeps her eyes across the crowd of girls gathered at the bottom of the pyramid, attempting to find the girl called Sakura. As the whispers increase in volume, Chaeyeon wonders if she’s the only person in the room to not know who this Sakura is.

Unfortunately, the girls are moving around too much for her to accurately read any of the names. She’s on the verge of giving up (she’ll find out during the evaluation performances anyway) when her eyes meet another pair of brown. The eye contact is brief and somewhat awkward but in that fraction of a second, Chaeyeon is mesmerised. Although she hasn’t managed to find Sakura yet, Chaeyeon seriously doubts that she’s as pretty as this girl because this girl… she’s simply breath-taking.

It’s not just because of the way her shoulder length brown hair perfectly frames her slender face, neither is it because of her perfectly smooth skin.  

It’s her eyes.

On the surface, her wide, doe-like eyes seem to exude innocence and wonder but even in that brief second, Chaeyeon had seen it. The fire. The determination. The girl hides it well with a tempered, polite smile but Chaeyeon can sense the embers of resolve blazing underneath - she’s seen the same look too many times in the mirror to not recognise it.

This girl is here to prove something to the world and to herself. She’s here to win.

And Chaeyeon thinks it’s beautiful.

(It isn’t until later when the girl steps onto the stage alone with the fire in her eyes burning brighter than ever that Chaeyeon realises, oh, so that’s Sakura.)

--- 0 ---

Chaeyeon ends up getting sick and misses almost all the dance classes. She kind of hates herself for falling ill at such an inappropriate time but there’s nothing she can do about it. Thankfully, she’s managed to at least learn the lyrics for the first verse in both languages and the staff had been kind enough to give her a spare iPad with the video of the choreography for her to look over when she’s not resting.

However, that doesn’t make up for her lack of practice and she’s afraid that she will fall too far behind. On the afternoon of the second day, she decides that she has rested enough and joins the A Class practice session.

“Chaeyeon, you’re back!” Goeun says with a bright smile as Chaeyeon walks through the door. From the other side of the practice room, Yena and Eunbi let out a massive cheer, drawing the attention of the rest of the trainees.

“Yeah, I can’t afford lose any more time,” Chaeyeon replies through her white face mask. Her cheeks are starting to heat up from all the stares. To diffuse the situation, she turns and waves at the trainees and they smile back before returning to their individual practice.

Goeun gives her a sympathetic smile and pats her on the back. “It’s okay. I know that you’ll catch up in no time. And we haven’t progressed that much anyway. I bet you’ll end up having to teach the rest of us soon.”

“Thank you,” Chaeyeon says gratefully. “That made me feel much better”

“No problem. Good luck!” Goeun gives Chaeyeon a final hug before walking away to resume her practice.

Now that she’s alone, Chaeyeon scans the room for a suitable spot to occupy. Understandably, most of the girls have chosen a spot near the mirror in order to see their form whilst dancing. She resumes her search for a vacant spot when her eyes land on a familiar figure sitting near the door. Her shoulder length hair has been tied back into a small ponytail, but it is undeniably Sakura.

Chaeyeon watches as Sakura gets on her feet and begins to go through the motions of the Naekkoya dance. Halfway through an arm motion, Sakura stops, repeats the move only to stop again with a shake of her head. Her back is turned to Chaeyeon but her frustrations are evident.

Normally, Chaeyeon would not have wasted a moment to reach out and help but there’s something about Sakura that stops her from acting on her instinct. From the evaluation stage, Chaeyeon could clearly see that Sakura holds pride in what she represents. What if she doesn’t appreciate Chaeyeon’s help, interpreting it as her looking down on Sakura’s abilities?

But she’s clearly struggling.

In the entire A Class, Sakura and Miyu are the only Japanese girls and Kaeun, the only fluent speaker, is hard at practice herself. Even if Sakura had wanted to ask for help, Chaeyeon imagines that it couldn’t have been easy with the language barrier and the fact that they’re all essentially strangers. Not to mention she probably isn’t used to the relentless and harsh Korean training system.

She watches as Sakura heaves a frustrated sigh before grabbing her lyric sheets and walking out of the practice room. Feeling that it’s now or never, Chaeyeon finally gathers her nerves and follows after the girl. Once she’s outside, she spots Sakura practicing near the stairs and she makes sure to walk in Sakura’s line of vision so that the other girl won’t be surprised when Chaeyeon strikes a conversation. Sakura notices Chaeyeon immediately and she stops her movements, staring at her in confusion. Chaeyeon’s heart aches slightly from the sight of Sakura’s swollen, red rimmed eyes.

“Hello, Sakura-san? Is that right?” Chaeyeon starts off in Korean.

Sakura’s eyes widen slightly as she stutters out, “I-I’m sorry… my Korean… not good.”

Chaeyeon curses herself for being dumb and forgetting to switch to Japanese.

“Sorry. I asked if It’s okay to call you Sakura-san. Are you older than me? I’m 18.”

Sakura seems shocked at Chaeyeon’s sudden barrage of broken Japanese. “You can speak Japanese?”

“A little,” Chaeyeon replies, somewhat embarrassed. “I’m nowhere near as good as Kaeun-unnie though.”

“No, no! You’re very good!” Sakura says, shaking her head. Chaeyeon can see that although her guard is still up and she’s understandably treating Chaeyeon with a certain amount of caution, her lips are now curved into a small smile and her eyes are shining somewhat brighter than it was before.

Wow, Chaeyeon thinks as she takes in the soft features of the shorter girl standing before her, she’s really pretty up close. Sakura is sweating from exertion and her bangs are stuck to her forehead but somehow, she manages to make it look attractive.

If Chaeyeon isn’t so busy being awe-struck by Sakura’s beauty, she might have been jealous.

“As for your question, yes I’m older. I’m 20.”

“Oh!” Chaeyeon says in surprise, mostly because she genuinely didn’t think Sakura would be older. “Should I call you unnie then?”

“No, I’m not used to that. Just Sakura is fine.”

“Okay. Likewise, just call me Chaeyeon.”

“Chaeyeon?” Sakura says with a concentrated frown, trying out the pronunciation. “Is that right?”

Chaeyeon suppresses the urge to giggle at the way Sakura had said her name. It had sounded more like ‘Jjaeyon’ than anything but it’s so unexpectedly adorable that it warms her heart in an inexplicable way.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Hmm… Chaeyeon,” Sakura repeats to herself, before her expression lights up in recognition. “Oh! You’re the girl who’s really good at dancing! Your free dance was amazing.”

Chaeyeon flushes pleasantly from the compliment. She has heard many compliments about her dancing but hearing it from Sakura feels different. “Thank you. On the topic of dancing, I was wondering if you needed any help with the Naekkoya choreography,” Chaeyeon says, feeling the nerves rushing back in. “I’m sorry if I’m being nosy but you seemed like you were having a hard time.”

Chaeyeon keeps an eye on Sakura’s reaction and thankfully, the older girl doesn’t seem to be offended. Instead, she’s staring at Chaeyeon with wide eyes and an open mouth, most likely in shock.

“Of course, I’d be grateful for help but are you sure? I don’t want to drag you down when you’ve already missed most of the dance lessons,” Sakura says with a concerned frown.

Chaeyeon grins widely at Sakura’s positive response and shakes her head. “You’re not a burden at all, Sakura-san! I heard that in AKB, you don’t really receive formal dance training so it’s natural that you might be having a hard time at the start. You’re actually helping me learn the dance better by letting me help you so thank you.”

Sakura is staring at Chaeyeon with an unreadable expression but there is a familiar light in her eyes that Chaeyeon remembers seeing on the first day of filming. Although they are still essentially strangers and Chaeyeon knows nothing about Sakura to be justified for feeling this way, she can’t help the way her heart soars in relief at the sight.

“I’ll just go and grab an iPad so we can watch the choreography together,” Chaeyeon says, turning to run back to the practice room. She pauses when she feels a tug at the hem of her shirt and cranes her neck back to see Sakura giving her a genuine, unguarded smile for the first time.

Chaeyeon is stunned into silence.

“Thank you, Chaeyeon,” Sakura says softly before letting go of Chaeyeon’s shirt.

Chaeyeon swallows down the heat crawling its way up her neck and returns Sakura’s smile with one of her own. “Let’s get through this together,” she says before running off to the practice room.

Her pulse is strumming an erratic beat as her mind keeps replaying Sakura’s smile against her will. Something is happening. Something is changing within her and Chaeyeon’s not sure if she welcomes this change.

One thing’s for sure though – Sakura is the cause.

There’s something magnetic about the Japanese girl. If Sakura is a siren of the sea singing a beautiful song, Chaeyeon is the helpless sailor who cannot help but be lured in by her voice.  

(It’s only further down the line that Chaeyeon comes to realise the full consequences of her actions - by answering the call, she has crossed into a territory that she would not be able to return from.)

--- 0 ---

When a person is born, they are assigned a soulmate.

As people live out their lives, many will inevitably fall in love. On the off chance that the person you fall in love with is your assigned soulmate, you and only you will receive a mark – their name in their own handwriting carved onto the inside of your wrist. For your soulmate to receive their own mark, you must confirm mutual love for each other.

Under these rules, it’s easy to see why most people have not found their soulmate and never will throughout their entire life. In fact, statistics show that less than 0.5 percent of the human population end up living happily ever after with their destined partner.

For some people, finding their soulmate is their life-long dream; others outright refuse to believe in the system, preferring to choose their own partners without the restriction of a pseudo ‘rule’ imposed by the universe and fate.

However, if there is one motivation for finding your soulmate, it’s the fact that they are the person you are guaranteed to be most compatible with. Your soulmate is someone who will explicitly understand you and loyally stay by your side no matter the circumstance.

For Chaeyeon, the topic of soulmate is something she had never given much thought to. As nice as it sounds, she knows that realistically, the chances of her meeting her soulmate out of the seven billion people in the world and falling in love with them is extremely slim.

She’s knows for a fact that her parents are not soulmates, but they are happily married and have created a loving family. This alone is proof that she too can be happy without finding hers.

So no, Chaeyeon has never imagined the topic of soulmate ever becoming relevant in her life.

At least not until now.

--- 0 ---

Chaeyeon finds Sakura crying in the bathroom.

They’ve just finished their dress rehearsal for the Very Very Very stage and Sakura had disappeared as soon as the group was off the stage. Eunbi had advised the group to give the girl some time to collect herself but Chaeyeon couldn’t stand the feeling of being helpless when her friend is probably suffering alone. She had given Aoi a reassuring look that said ‘I’ll take care of her’ before rushing off to the first spot that came to mind.

“Saku-chan,” Chaeyeon says in a hushed voice, not wanting to startle her.

(After the first day of their blossoming friendship, Sakura had requested Chaeyeon to stop using the ‘-san’ honorific as it sounded too stiff. Since Sakura is still older than her and calling her using just her name would feel too rude, Chaeyeon had settled on a compromise of alternating between ‘Saku-chan’ and ‘Kura-chan’)

Sakura looks up at Chaeyeon, her eyes spilling hot tears and her ponytail in a disarray.

“Chaeyeon…” Sakura’s voice shakes as another onslaught of sniffles interrupt her sentence.

Chaeyeon’s heart breaks a little from hearing Sakura sound so small and vulnerable. The trainers had not spared any mercy during their feedback on their rehearsal performance and Sakura, as the centre, had taken the brunt of the criticisms. Objectively, she knows that their performance was below average, but it doesn’t make the harsh words any easier to hear. Chaeyeon too is wounded but her pain is nothing compared to what Sakura must be feeling. After all, the weight of the team is a heavy one to carry.

Although they haven’t known each other for very long, Chaeyeon instinctively understands that what Sakura needs right now are not empty words of consolation. Telling her that it wasn’t her fault, that she did her best so there’s nothing she can do about it – they’re all pointless to say because Sakura of all people probably knows that the best.

So, Chaeyeon does the only thing she can think of in that moment. She walks up to Sakura and opens her arms with a small smile. “Do you want a hug?” she asks in a quiet voice and immediately, Sakura leans in, tucks her face into the crook of Chaeyeon’s neck and clutches the back of her shirt in a pair of tight grips. Chaeyeon closes her arms around Sakura’s shoulders and gently pulls her in closer, until she’s sure that their heartbeats are overlapping.

There’s a lot of things that Chaeyeon wants to say, but she doesn’t in fear of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. What words can she possibly offer to ease Sakura’s burdens? She doesn’t know. She simply holds Sakura tightly in her arms and hopes that the Japanese girl will understand.

I’m here for you. You can lean on me. Please let me share your burdens.  

You don’t have to go through this alone.

After a few minutes, Sakura’s sobs die down and Chaeyeon slowly loosens her hold to give the other girl the choice of pulling away if she wants to.

“I’m scared, Chaeyeon. You trusted me and gave me the centre position, but I’ve let everyone down,” Sakura says, her voice still a bit shaky. She doesn’t pull away from the hug but instead turns her head so that it’s propped on Chaeyeon’s shoulder.

Chaeyeon doesn’t say ‘it’s okay’ because she doesn’t want to make light of Sakura’s feelings. Instead she says, “We’ll work through this as a team. You don’t have to shoulder the burden alone, Saku-chan. That’s what teammates and friends are for.”

She feels Sakura slowly releasing a breath before tightening her arms around Chaeyeon’s waist in a barely noticeable way. “Mm. Thank you for staying by my side,” Sakura says, her voice sounding lighter, as if she has been freed from invisible shackles.

This is their moment. Chaeyeon thinks there’s something special about sharing such an intimate moment with the older girl. If the Miyawaki Sakura from the evaluation day had been blindingly fierce with her fire and determination, this Sakura – hurt, vulnerable and so very human – is heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Holding this Sakura in her arms just feels inexplicably right.

At this point, Chaeyeon knows. Can feel it in her heart.

She’s falling.

She tries to stop herself but one look into Sakura’s eyes, one breath of her comforting scent, and Chaeyeon knows it’s already too late. The thought is both freeing and scary.

Maybe if she ignores this feeling, squashes it down enough that it doesn’t have time to take root in her heart, maybe then, she won’t fall too deep.

It can’t become love.

It’s not love.

Not yet.

--- 0 ---

(Turns out, the universe has cruel sense of humour.)

The 1000% group is taking a small break from practice when Sakura, in her pink ‘See you again’ shirt, enters the room and sits down next to Chaeyeon on the floor. Miu and Moe are practicing their pronunciation of the lyrics together at the other end of the room whilst Minju and Miho have gone to get drinks for everyone.

Chaeyeon startles awake from her semi-sleeping status and stares at Sakura in surprise. “Oh, Kura-chan! What are you doing here? Are you done with practice?”

Sakura shakes her head. “No but everyone needed a break, so I was just walking around until I saw that you’re also resting.” She then pouts and adds “Should I leave?”

“No, no, stay! We haven’t had a lot of time to talk recently so I’m happy that you’re here,” Chaeyeon says with a smile. “How have you been?”

Sakura shifts closer and leans her head on Chaeyeon’s shoulder. “Honestly, I’m really tired from attending schedules in Japan but that can’t be helped.”

Chaeyeon frowns a bit, remembering their last video call from when Sakura had flown to Japan to attend schedules. The older girl had looked like a ghost due to the lack of sleep but she had still tried her best to be bright in front of Chaeyeon. Whilst the memory of Sakura’s tired face leaves a sting in her heart, knowing that Sakura trusts Chaeyeon to a level where she can honestly say what’s on her mind makes it soar in delight. She knows that Sakura doesn’t give out her trust easily and it warms her to know that she’s one of the select few.

“But more importantly,” Sakura says, breaking Chaeyeon out of her thoughts. “Let’s talk about you. Something's bothering you.”

Sakura says it like a statement, as if there’s no room for argument. In the face of that, Chaeyeon realises that there’s no point in trying to worm her way out of this conversation. She looks away, embarrassed to talk about her self-esteem issues with the most beautiful girl she knows.

Sakura, as if sensing Chaeyeon’s hesitation, takes a hold of her hand and intertwines their fingers. Chaeyeon directs her gaze at their locked hands and feels herself calming down when Sakura applies a gentle squeeze.   

“I’m losing confidence,” Chaeyeon eventually says, voice small and uncertain. “I’m not pretty or charismatic and I don’t have the star quality to make me shine. The only thing I had was my dance but now I’m not sure if I even have that. I don’t know what to believe in anymore.”

At some point during her monologue, tears have started to fall down her cheeks and she’s helpless to stop it. The built-up worries, the countless nights spent staring into space and wondering what she had left to offer, it all swells up inside her until she can no longer contain it. During her mini-breakdown, Sakura’s hand acts as her anchor, keeping her grounded and preventing her from entering a never-ending spiral of self-deprecation.

“Chaeyeon, look at me,” Sakura demands. When Chaeyeon obeys and turns her head to look at the older girl, she lifts her other hand and gently places it on Chaeyeon’s tear-stained cheek.

“You may not think you’re pretty but to me, you’re the most beautiful person I know. You have a heart of gold and the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. You take care of others, often at your own expense, and ask for nothing in return. Everyone here respects your skills and adores you for who you are. You have so much potential - the trainers see it, all the other girls see it, I see it, you’re the only one who doesn’t,” Sakura says, with so much conviction that Chaeyeon is momentarily overwhelmed. Her tears have stopped but her heart is still beating rapidly in her chest, albeit for a different reason altogether.

Sakura squeezes their hands once more and stares into Chaeyeon’s eyes. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

“More than I trust myself,” Chaeyeon says honestly.

“Then believe in my words. If you don’t know what to believe, just focus on me and believe in me.”

It hits Chaeyeon, in that moment.

She’s been trying to run from her feelings but there’s no more denying it.

Later on, after Sakura has left and practice has finished, Chaeyeon stares in a mix of awe and horror as a burst of pain erupts on the inside of her left wrist and four familiar Kanji characters carves itself onto her flesh.

Once, Chaeyeon had asked Sakura to write out her name in its proper form using Kanji out of sheer curiosity. Now, it comes back to bite her in the because as soon as the characters finish being engraved on her skin, she recognises them with an astonishing clarity.

Miyawaki Sakura.

Her breathing quickens as panic rises in her chest, bubbling its way up .

This can’t be.

This must be a joke.

Out of the seven billion people in the world, Miyawaki Sakura is her soulmate. A girl from an entirely different country, who she met under not so favourable circumstances. A girl she may never see again after a few weeks.

Getting a soulmate mark isn’t a magic ticket to a happily ever after, Chaeyeon knows that much. The only thing it confirms is that Sakura is most definitely not in love with her, otherwise Chaeyeon wouldn’t be the one to get the mark when no confession has been exchanged between the two of them.

That leaves her with only one choice of action. She’ll hide the mark along with her feelings and take it to her grave. Sakura doesn’t ever have to know. Not everyone believes in soulmates and Chaeyeon would never force Sakura to decide between choosing ‘fate’ and choosing her heart.

Before she goes to sleep, she covers the mark with layers of foundation and silently chants to herself to forget.

It’s not love, it’s not love, it’s not love.

--- 0 ---

Through tears and celebrations, the twelve members of IZ*ONE make their debut.

Chaeyeon had feared that she would not make it and had even almost resigned herself to returning to her company. But during the tense pause before the announcement of the twelfth member, her eyes had sought out Sakura sitting at the top of the pyramid, hyperventilating into her hands and Chaeyeon had immediately berated herself for nearly giving up.

“Just focus on me and believe in me.”

Chaeyeon had remembered Sakura’s words in that exact moment and she had decided to believe.

As a result, she’s now surrounded by friends from Produce48 congratulating her debut.

Eventually, she reaches Sakura and without exchanging any words, they wrap their arms around each other and start crying all over again.

“I’m glad we can debut together, Chaeyeon,” Sakura says into her neck, her tears wetting Chaeyeon’s shoulder.

Chaeyeon supresses the ugly sob crawling its way up and instead, pulls Sakura in as close as possible until she’s all that exists.

“Thank you for believing in me,” Chaeyeon says, heart filling with love for the girl in her arms. She may not be allowed to act on this love but at the very least, she wants to cherish this feeling.

At that moment, the inside of her left wrist tingles with warning and Chaeyeon is forced to remind herself again.

This isn’t love.

It can’t be love.