Staring at Kazuha’s back as she weaves her way through the dancing crowd, Sakura thinks back to those times minutes before the game, when she’s standing in the dark tunnel and her whole body thrums with anticipation and excitement. That’s how she feels right now. 

The problem is, they aren’t at a stadium. This isn’t a game. There’s no number eleven on Kazuha’s back, no ponytail, just her bare shoulder blades exposed by her tank top, peeking through her long hair. And yet, with the way Sakura’s heart is beating in her chest, thumping wildly like it’s trying to escape, she knows she has already lost.

They find a spot closer to the wall where there are fewer people. Kazuha turns around, her hand still holding Sakura’s, and, as if on cue, the upbeat music changes to one with a slower tempo and heavy bass. People around them start pressing closer to each other, body to body, grinding and writhing in sync with the sultry music. 

The sudden shift in atmosphere makes Sakura want to run back to the booth, or better yet, out of the bar. But then she looks up, finds Kazuha’s dark, piercing eyes gazing down at her, and she’s unable to move, captivated by the sight.

Her breath hitches as Kazuha makes a tentative step closer, almost erasing the space between them. And there’s a voice at the back of Sakura’s head, warning her that this is the kind of situation she should be avoiding, yet she ignores it. Some part of her, the one that can’t tear her eyes away from the girl, desperately wants to see where this is going. 

She places her hands on Kazuha's shoulders, admiring the flush on her cheeks as shadows dance across her face. Then she feels herself blush when Kazuha rests her palms comfortably on her hips, and they start swaying to the music. 

Time seems to grind to a halt, the crowd around them dissipating like a hazy illusion. Along with it, every coherent thought abandons Sakura’s mind. It’s almost as if Kazuha has cast a spell on her. And she might as well have. Sakura just isn’t quite sure when that happened.

“See? You can do this.” Kazuha’s soft chuckle tickles her cheek.

With a shy smile, Sakura shakes her head at the girl, a loose strand of hair falling across her eyes. Kazuha reaches and tucks it behind her ear, the pads of her fingers grazing sensitive skin, making her shudder. Her gaze falls to Sakura’s lips, then back to her eyes, as if questioning.

Sakura bites down on the corner of her lips, her palms pressing harder against Kazuha but pulling her in rather than pushing her back. She watches how Kazuha slowly leans in, tilting her face in towards Sakura’s.

No– Wait– We can’t– 

Just as their lips are about to touch, panicked thoughts break through Sakura’s dazed mind, and she pushes away from the girl.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom, s-sorry,” she stammers, backing away and stumbling into people, before she turns on her heel and starts making her way through the crowd as fast as she can.

By some miracle, there’s no queue and one empty stall in the bathroom. Sakura bursts inside and shuts the door, leaning her forehead against it.

“,” she mutters as she closes her eyes and tries to calm down her ragged breathing, but to no avail. “, , !” She pounds her fist against the door so hard that the hinges rattle.

What the hell was that?!

Turning around, she slumps against the door and looks up at the ceiling.

Was she about to kiss me? But why? And why have I…wanted it?

Her eyes widen at the realization, and she runs her fingers through her hair, tugging at them roughly.

I wanted to kiss Nakamura Kazuha… Oh, this is bad… Real bad…

She feels like she’s back on the roller coaster, just this time it’s not her life flashing before her eyes, but every moment she spent with Kazuha ever since she’d met her. From their awkward first meeting in the locker room to the promise they made about the World Cup, to Kazuha holding her in her arms when she cried herself to sleep, to each and every time Kazuha’s smile left her speechless, and finally, to all the soft looks the girl gave her that never failed to make her heart skip a beat.

And when that crazy ride comes to an end and the flashbacks dispel, she arrives at the realization that was at the back of her mind for quite some time already, but she chose to stubbornly ignore it. Until today. Until Kazuha’s lips were mere inches away from hers, so tempting and enticing, and simply impossible to ignore.

“I fell for Kazuha…” she whispers under her breath, as if she’s sharing a secret with herself.

It’s not just some ‘silly, small crush’ . She wouldn’t be so scared if it was just that. She wouldn’t be having such a meltdown over some simple, short-lived infatuation. And she most certainly wouldn’t have this intense urge to run back to Kazuha and kiss her senseless.

Sure, it began like a crush, but gradually, her feelings grew beyond that. With each passing day spent in the girl’s presence, when she thought ignoring all the heart skips and flutters would make them go away, her affections slowly but surely grew bigger and stronger. And now, she’s pretty sure they won't go away so easily.

, , ! I’m so screwed…

And of course, Kazuha just had to make it worse. The flirting? The dancing? Where did that even come from? When they sat at the table, when Kazuha spoke about her dribbling skills, she looked at her like she wanted to…eat her alive. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside her and the meek pup changed into a ravenous wolf.

She flushes at the comparison and groans, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“,” she curses again and bites the inside of her cheek. 

Her heart is still pounding in her ears, her skin feeling hot to the touch. It’s hard for her to think clearly in such a flustered state, and she starts wondering that maybe she had only imagined that look in Kazuha’s eyes. Maybe it was all in her head.

Though she’s pretty sure the girl did try to kiss her, even if it didn’t make sense, because why would she want to do that? Has she got carried away by the atmosphere of the place? Or has Sakura’s earlier performance in front of Kaname sent her the wrong signals?

Or does she like me more than a fan?

And just as she's beginning to cool down, heat surges through her yet again. She bangs her head against the door out of frustration.

I’m being ridiculous. 

She can’t spend the rest of her life, hiding in a bathroom stall, wondering what was going on through Kazuha’s head when she almost kissed her. She has a World Cup to win.They have a World Cup to win.

Which makes her realize that it doesn’t matter whether what she feels for Kazuha is just a stupid crush or something more, or even if it’s mutual or not, she shouldn’t be acting on it either way. There’s just too much at stake here. Her dad. Their team. The World Cup. Their friendship. Even their chances to make the national squad could be ruined. And needless to say, the last time she got involved with someone on the team, it ended with that person transferring to their biggest rivals. She would especially hate a repeat of that.

The best thing she can do right now is just go back there and explain to Kazuha that it was all just a misunderstanding. She’ll apologize to her for giving her mixed signals and move on. Nothing has happened, after all, and they can continue being friends. Hopefully.

She takes a few calming breaths and finally leaves the stall. Outside, a long queue has formed, and some of the women look quite upset. She has no idea how much time she has spent in that stall, but most likely, way more than she should. After quickly washing her hands, she scurries out of the bathroom and towards their booth in hopes of finding Kazuha. 

But the girl isn’t there, and she curses herself for feeling relieved about it. She has to talk to her. 

“Where’s Kazuha?” she asks Chaewon and Yunjin, who upon closer inspection look a bit strange. 

They’re sitting across from each other, staring in opposite directions, seemingly lost in thoughts, and they don’t even acknowledge Sakura’s presence. It’s only when she waves her hand in front of Yunjin’s eyes that the blonde looks up at her. Her gaze is oddly absent as she nudges her chin towards the bar. 

Sakura turns around and all color drains from her face. 

Kazuha is standing by the bar with Kaname next to her. The woman leans one elbow on the counter, gazing at Kazuha with that charming, coy smile on her face. It gives Sakura flashbacks of their first meeting after she joined F.C. Tokyo’s senior team. Kaname had the exact same smile stretched across her lips when she approached her at her locker.

I’ve heard a lot about you. Can’t wait to see what you’re capable of.

She still remembers the excitement and pride she felt, having been noticed by an older team member with an established career. Someone who was, and still is, considered one of the best defenders in the league. Kaname gave her the validation she so desperately craved at that time. But it was all just a ruse.

Now she’s watching as Kaname brushes aside Kazuha’s hair and whispers into her ear. Her fists clench at her sides, and she doesn’t think twice before she walks up to them, grabs Kaname by the collar of her shirt, and flings her aside.

The woman stumbles, hits the counter with her back, and, bracing her hands against it, knocks over a drink. Shards of glass spill across the floor, landing under Sakura’s boots.

“I told you she’s with me, so back off,” Sakura seethes.

The remains of the drink seeped into Kaname’s sleeve, staining it red. She stares at Sakura, wide-eyed and unmoving. And it’s the first time that Sakura has witnessed her cool composure crack. The first time that she feels like she's the one with the upper hand.

“S-sakura?” Kazuha’s hesitant voice reaches her from behind, but she ignores it.

Kaname’s initial shock wears off as she straightens up and shakes the liquid off her hand in one swift motion.  

“Who are you trying to fool, Sakura?” she sneers, taking a menacing step forward. 

But Sakura doesn’t even flinch, only lifts her chin defiantly. 

Kaname scoffs and leans in close to her ear. “We both know you’re unable to love anyone.” 

Sakura’s whole body tenses up. Kaname’s words feel like a slap on her cheek—painful and cruel.

She grinds her teeth, about to raise her right fist up. “You bit–”

Yunjin slides right between them, and the words die on Sakura’s lips. 

“Woah! Okay ladies, calm down,” Yunjin says as she keeps them apart.

But Sakura doesn’t want to be calm. Not anymore. All she wants is to wipe that stupid smirk off Kaname’s face. She should have done it a long time ago, back when Kaname was telling her she was special but kept flirting with other women right in front of her eyes. And now she has the audacity to say this to her? If anything, it’s Kaname, who’s incapable of loving anyone other than herself.

“Sakura!” Yunjin’s stern voice snaps her out of her rage. She meets her friend’s eyes, sees the warning in them, and relents, relaxing her fists. “Let’s go.” The blonde takes her by the arm and leads her towards the exit.

Kazuha falls into step beside them, and when Sakura notices her concerned, and maybe a little scared, face, she realizes she has screwed up again.

They walk outside the club, and the night’s chill cools off Sakura right away, making her shiver. Chaewon hands her the hoodie she forgot about, and she mutters her thanks, putting it on.  

“What the hell was that just now?” Yunjin asks her, bringing her palm to her forehead like she has a headache. “I thought you and Kaname were over? Why the sudden jealousy rage?”

“What? Are you insane? I’m not jealous of her,” Sakura retorts, offended. “I saw her coming onto Kazuha, and,” she pauses, her eyes veering to the side before she continues, “she’s just not a good person, you know?”

“Right.” Yunjin’s eyebrows knit together, but it’s clear that she’s too exhausted to go deeper into this issue as she lets out a drawn-out sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s just call it a night here.”

No one opposes. They say their goodbyes and go their separate ways. Sakura hails a taxi and gets in with Kazuha. They sit in silence all throughout the ride, and although the city pop songs on the radio fill the silence between them, the atmosphere is still so tense and awkward that Sakura finds it almost suffocating. 

Sadly, the situation isn’t any better once they arrive at home. Hana-chan isn’t there to greet them when they enter the apartment, most likely sleeping in Kazuha’s room, which is a shame since Sakura counted on her distracting presence. Without her, they linger in the corridor, avoiding each other’s eyes. 

Sakura could just leave to her room; its door is just next to her, but she knows she should bring up whatever happened on that dance floor first. She senses that’s why Kazuha isn’t leaving either. But Sakura has no idea what to say. The incident with Kaname kind of overshadowed everything else. So perhaps she should begin with that.

But Kazuha beats her to it as she blurts out a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Sakura looks up, taken aback.

“You were right,” Kazuha continues, head bowing and arms wrapping around her torso. “I should be more assertive. I should have told her to get lost.”

Here she goes again, blaming herself for something that isn’t her fault. 

Sakura’s shoulders slump as she stares at the girl, who, all of a sudden, appears so small and vulnerable to her.

“Zuha,” she sighs, but more out of sadness than exasperation. “You don’t have to apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. Besides, I know exactly how hard it is to say no to her,” she mutters, defeatedly. 

Not harder than it is to say it to you, though. She winces because that’s just so painfully true, but also because now’s not the time to think about that.

“Do you maybe…” Kazuha hesitates; her gaze drops to the floor as she mumbles something under her breath.

“Sorry?” Sakura prompts. 

The girl glances at her, lips pursed. “Do you still love her? I know you’ve told Yunjin—”

“No,” Sakura cuts her off sharply. “I don’t think I ever loved her. Whatever was between us was a mistake.”

A moment of silence passes between them.

“Listen, I should be the one apologizing to you,” Sakura continues. “I acted like an and ruined everyone’s evening.”

“I still had fun,” Kazuha assures, regarding her carefully.

This is it. The girl has given her the opening to bring up the almost kiss. She opens , ready to dismiss it as a simple misunderstanding, but under Kazuha’s scrutinizing, perhaps even hopeful, gaze, she’s unable to say anything but the truth.

“Me too,” she blurts out in a whisper.

, I really said that, she berates herself mentally and tries to come up with some kind of follow-up that would bring her back to her original script. But it’s already too late for that. Kazuha’s face lights up with that soft smile of hers, and it makes Sakura’s heart swell, the script discarded and forgotten.

Kazuha’s hands unwrap from around her torso and travel to the back pockets of her jeans while her eyes wander up to the ceiling as she fights off a grin.

“I-I should go to sleep,” Sakura stammers, her hand reaching for the door handle.

Before I say more stuff that I’ll regret.

Kazuha nods; she doesn’t seem too disappointed, but as Sakura is about to enter her room, the girl speaks up again, “Sakura?” 

Sakura glances over her shoulder at her. “Yeah?” 

“You look very pretty tonight,” words rush out of Kazuha’s mouth, “I mean, not that other times you look ugly, it’s just—”

“Hey,” Sakura interjects her flustered rambling. “Thanks. You too look very pretty.”

Kazuha’s chest puffs out, and her cheeks flush as she beams at her. “T-thank you.”

Sakura smiles and finally enters her room, the door closing behind her with a soft click. She comes up to her bed and sits down on its edge, then flings herself onto her back.

She thinks I’m pretty.

Her cheeks feel feverish again, and she reaches blindly for a pillow to grab it and press it against her face. It’s pathetic how she acts all flustered because Kazuha complimented her looks. And she hates that it reminds her of how she felt when Kaname did that to her.

You look very pretty today, Sakura. Would you like to grab dinner with me after the training? My treat.

With an angry groan, she rolls onto her side. 

I should have never agreed to it.

Lowering the pillow, she props her chin on it and thinks back to Kazuha. The girl isn’t anything like Kaname. She’s gentle, polite, and caring, and most of all, she’s honest, and she has never given Sakura a reason to doubt her words. She’s also funny in that random but endearing sort of way. She often catches herself just staring at the girl as she’s feeding Hana-chan while talking to her like the cat understands, sometimes even asking her questions. And she doesn’t think she’ll ever get bored of witnessing those one-sided discussions.

She grins into the pillow before she realizes what she’s doing—making herself fall deeper for Nakamura Kazuha.

 

🌸🍃

 

The next day at the locker room, Sakura notices that the atmosphere between Yunjin and Chaewon is still off. They’re quieter than usual, though not to the point that they don’t talk to each other at all. It’s just that their conversations are oddly clipped, limited to curt questions and quick replies.

“Chaewon? My gloves?”

“Yeah.”

Sakura blinks, looking between the two, as Chaewon passes the gloves to Yunjin.

Chaewon? No Wonnie, or Pupu? And no, ‘stop losing your stuff, you airhead?’ Is this some alternative universe I’ve found myself in? 

It doesn’t seem like the two have argued, but clearly, something must have happened because they cannot even look at each other. Not to mention that Chaewon’s changing in such a rush that she almost falls to the floor when she puts on her shorts and stumbles. After she’s done, she leaves the locker room, not waiting for anyone.

“Hey, Yunjin.” Sakura steps in to block Yunjin’s path as the girl is about to head for the exit as well. If there’s something going on, she needs to make sure it won’t affect their gameplay like it happened before. They’re up against Frontale in two days, and they have to be at the top of their game. “Is everything okay between you and Chaewon?”

Yunjin’s eyes widen comically before she schools her expression and starts faking nonchalance. “Y-yeah, of course it is, why wouldn’t it be?” She wants to sidestep her, but Sakura crosses her arms over her chest and moves to block her way again. 

“You called her Chaewon a moment ago,” she says pointedly.

“Well, that’s her name, duh,” Yunjin dismisses, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner. 

Sakura narrows her eyes. “Which you almost never use,” she points out, tone flat.

Yunjin starts chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes frantic, until they focus on something behind Sakura.

“Hey, is that Mei flirting with Zuha?”

“Huh?” Sakura whips around.

Kazuha is in the middle of taking off her white hoodie; no one’s talking to her. When she catches Sakura’s gaze, she arches an eyebrow, the corner of her lips teasing a coy smile. 

Sakura feels blood rush to her face, and goes dry. The hoodie drops, discarded, and as it hits the bench, she snaps out of her daze and immediately turns back to Yunjin, fuming.

“You–”

“Gotcha,” the blonde snickers, dashing past her and towards the exit. “See you at the field!”

“Dammit,” Sakura curses, watching the blonde leave before her eyes catch a glimpse of Kazuha. The girl pulls her hair into a ponytail, which wouldn’t be anything odd if not for the fact that she does it while she’s still wearing only her sports bra and her boxers.

Sakura averts her gaze and yanks the door to her locker open, hiding her red face behind it.

What the hell is going on with everyone today? She thinks to herself as she starts changing her clothes, tugging at them hurriedly. Once she’s ready, she slams the locker shut and nearly jumps out of her skin, noticing Kazuha leaning against Chaewon’s locker. 

“Ready?” the girl asks, looking all casual and innocent.

How long has she been standing there?  Sakura wonders, her heartbeat quickening annoyingly at the thought.

“U-hm, yeah,” she mumbles and takes a sip out of her water bottle before following Kazuha to the exit.

Something tells her today’s training is going to be a very long and tough one.

 

🌸🍃

 

It’s a chilly October day with a gray, sunless sky but no real threat of rain. The perfect weather for training, when you want to keep moving so that you can stay warm, and you hardly sweat at all. That being said, it’s the third time Sakura catches Kazuha lifting her jersey to wipe her forehead, putting her taut abs on full display. 

There’s not a single drop of sweat on her forehead. Sakura steals a glance at the girl walking past her while she puts the ball on the grass. She’s pretty sure Kazuha has never worn her shorts so low on her hips before.

Shaking off the distracting thoughts, she focuses back on the exercise and kicks the ball so hard that Yunjin flinches as it flies right past her ear and into the net.

“Holy , Kkura. Are you trying to decapitate me?” Yunjin says, looking a little pale as she picks up the ball and throws it back to Sakura.

Did she want to hurt Yunjin? No. Scare her a little? Definitely. She considers this as payback for that stunt Yunjin pulled off in the locker room. No doubt that incident has given Kazuha some questionable ideas, which is just another reason why she should talk to the girl.

If only it was that easy, she muses as she returns to the end of the line and stares at the number eleven in front of her. 

She could have tried talking to the girl during their morning jog, but she didn’t. Her problem being that the moment she looks at Kazuha, all that hey, it’s better if we remain just friends speech flies right out of her mind, and what’s left is just the reassuring warmth of Kazuha’s eyes and smile.

Yet she knows she has to talk to her. And she has to do it sooner rather than later. She still remembers their conversation on a park bench about why Yunjin and Chaewon aren’t dating. Kazuha doesn’t mind that Sakura is her teammate. On the contrary, she uses that to her advantage, pushing Sakura’s mind to the brink of madness with the way she’s acting today.

Like how she smirks when she notices Sakura’s eyes lingering on that stupid Calvin Kline logo. Or how she makes sure their fingers brush when she hands her the training vest before the scrimmage. And how she keeps flashing these damn abs of hers, to the point that others start noticing too.

“Kazuha is driving me insane today.”

“I know, right? I feel like she’s even hotter than usual.”

Yumi and Shimako, their midfielders, titter behind Sakura’s back as if they’re high schoolers talking about their crush. It’s not the first time this happens, but it’s the first time Sakura is self-aware enough to admit why it bothers her so damn much. 

“I saw once that she let Chaewon touch her abs, you think she’d let me too if I asked?”

“Maybe.”

Another fit of giggles follows, and Sakura’s eye starts to twitch. She has to suppress the urge to tell them to shut up and focus on the training. She hates how much this affects her. Especially since she has never considered herself a jealous or possessive person. Then again, she hadn’t considered a lot of things before meeting Kazuha.

She looks at the girl as they are about to begin the game and wonders if she heard Yumi and Shimako rave over her, but if she did, she doesn’t show it. She hasn’t as much as spared them a glance, her eyes constantly seeking only Sakura. 

“I bet I can score more goals than you today.” Kazuha’s lips curve into a playful smirk.

Sakura’s forehead creases. A challenge? Interesting. 

“I bet you can’t,” she replies with a smirk of her own and passes the ball to Kazuha, starting the game.

She doesn’t understand exactly how this challenge is supposed to work since they're on the same team, but the fact hardly bothers her. When Kazuha delivers a perfect pass to her, she dribbles past the defenders and finishes the action with a precise shot, scoring the first goal. Then she lifts her forefinger while looking over at Kazuha. The girl grins, shaking her head.

Both of them are constantly bombarding their opponents’ goal with powerful shots. And just ten minutes later, Sakura shows Kazuha two fingers in a peace sign before she lifts her jersey to wipe her forehead. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices how Kazuha’s lips part ever so slightly.

Two can play this game, she thinks.

But her cheekiness soon backfires when Kazuha scores the next goal. Holding Sakura’s gaze, she presses her forefinger against her lips and winks. Sakura’s heart rate picks up, and she rolls her eyes to downplay the effect that gesture has on her. 

Luckily, the second time Kazuha scores, she’s back to her silly, goofy self as she makes finger guns and pretends to shoot Sakura. She moves to dodge the bullets, unimpressed. 

With the third goal scored by Sakura by the end of the scrimmage, the fun is over. Kazuha pulls her in for a celebratory hug and whispers just above her ear, “Congrats. You won.”

“What’s my prize?” Sakura throws back without missing a beat, high on adrenaline and something else—something far stronger and more dangerous.

When Kazuha pulls away from her, she bites hard on the inside of her cheek, stifling a whine of protest that the loss of contact prompts. 

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Kazuha says as she walks backwards, flashing her a cheeky grin, before she spins around and starts jogging towards the exit.

Congrats. You won. Kazuha’s words echo in Sakura’s head. 

So why do I feel like I’ve lost again?