“At training today, why did you try to do the same trick as me?”
 
“Ah, that…” Kazuha props her hands behind her on the kitchen counter as she leans against it, her eyes leaving Sakura to stare somewhere ahead. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to try it because it looked cool.”
 
“Because it looked cool,” Sakura says flatly.
 
It’s as much an anticlimactic revelation as it’s questionable. 
 
Kazuha tilts her head to look at her, lips pursed as she nods. “Mhm.”
 
Sakura keeps her blank stare on her. 
 
There’s no way she’s telling the truth, right?
 
Or maybe Sakura just desperately needs it to be a lie so that she won’t feel so stupid, because she was literally losing sleep over this, and here, the girl was telling her she did it because she thought it looked cool, and the worst part was that she sounded convincing. 
 
Maybe Sakura has given her too much credit. The girl is young, after all. Trying new things and parroting others does sound like something an impressionable 19-year-old player would do. 
 
She sighs. “You shouldn’t waste your time on skills that don’t play into your strengths. Next time go for a nudge to the side and surprise Yunjin with a shot from a distance. You have strong legs. Make use of them. Not every striker needs to be a great dribbler.”
 
Though it would certainly help you if you were…
 
She keeps that last thought to herself. She figures that if Kazuha takes her advice, she’ll be one hundred percent sure all that scheming she accused the girl of was only a product of her apparent paranoia.
 
“O-okay,” Kazuha stammers, a hint of blush on her cheeks.
 
Sakura arches an eyebrow. She didn’t say all that to embarrass the girl but seems like she inadvertently did just that.  
 
“It’s better for the team if we have unique playstyles. It allows for a more diverse gameplay,” she adds to which Kazuha just nods, still avoiding her gaze. “Okay, I’m going back to sleep. Try drinking warm milk, maybe. I heard it helps with falling asleep, though it never works for me.”
 
“I will.” Kazuha looks up at her, corners of her lips lifted in a small smile, and Sakura realizes she preferred when the girl wasn’t looking at her, because she starts to find her silly, smiling moomin face endearing, for a lack of a better word. 
 
Looking away, she mutters, “Good night.”
 
As she walks back to her room, she hears a soft ‘good night’ coming from behind her and, against her better judgment, smiles to herself.

🌸🍃 

“So, how’s living with your new roomie?” Yunjin asks while doing her crunches with Sakura holding her ankles. 
 
They are at a gym today for their strength workout, and Yunjin insisted on Sakura helping her which was already suspicious as normally she would ask Chaewon to do that for her.
 
“It’s fine,” Sakura replies, squinting at the goalkeeper since now she knows her true intentions.
 
“That’s it?” Yunjin sounds disappointed.
 
“Yeah. What did you expect me to say?”
 
Yunjin lifts herself to a full sitting position, coming face to face with Sakura. “No funny slash awkward stories like ‘oh no! I walked on her while she was changing’, or ‘I had to pass her a towel when she was under the shower’, or ‘she forgot we were living together and walked out of her room ’?”
 
Sakura recoils with a scowl. “What? No!” But then after a moment of contemplation, she leans back in, eyebrows narrowed in suspicion. “Wait, has any of that happened to you and Chaewon?”
 
Yunjin flinches. “Of course not…” She lowers herself back down, and Sakura barely catches the whispered ‘all of that’. “Well, there was this one time when I—”
 
Sakura puts up her hand, cutting her off. “You know what? Forget I asked.”
 
She realizes she actually has zero interest in knowing which of the aforementioned scenarios really took place and which didn’t, or what other embarrassing roommate stories Yunjin wants to share. And she also doesn’t understand why the goalkeeper never asked what kind of roommate Nagisa was but now suddenly wanted to know how it was living with Kazuha. Not to mention that they've been roommates for barely three days.
 
Surprisingly, after that exchange, Yunjin doesn’t come back to the topic and continues doing her crunches.
 
Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura catches Kazuha helping Chaewon with reaching a bar on one of the machines, and the scene takes her back to today’s early morning…
 
Before leaving for the training today, Sakura wanted to eat some muesli. But when she opened the kitchen cupboard to grab a bowl, she found all of them not on the lower shelf, where she had always stored them, but on the top one, which she couldn’t reach. And there could be only one person behind that misplacement — someone who had just moved in with her and boasted a height of 5'7".
 
She glared at the bowls as if they personally offended her. But since she would rather eat her damn cleats than go ask Kazuha for help, she decided to hop onto the countertop and then tried to reach for the bowl. And she almost had it when suddenly, she heard a voice behind her.
 
“Oh, sorry. Let me get it for you.” Kazuha’s hand reached from behind her and grabbed the bowl for her. 
 
In that brief second when it happened, her body grazed against Sakura’s back, and Sakura went completely still, as if she had turned into a stone. The only indication that she was in fact still alive was the blood that rushed to her cheeks.
 
“Here you are.” Kazuha handed her the bowl then went straight for the fridge to grab a Greek yogurt and passed it to her as well. 
 
“Thanks,” Sakura mumbled as she unfroze and took the yogurt.
 
Kazuha smiled at her from above her mug with coffee, leaning against the counter next to her.
 
Despite them having to leave in 15 minutes, if they didn’t want to be late for their training, Kazuha was still in her sleeping attire (Sakura refused to call shorts and cropped t-shirt pajamas), and her hair was a little tousled from the sleep.
 
“I’ll try to remember not to place them there next time.”
 
Sakura acknowledged her words with a hum as she munched on her muesli, still sitting on the countertop.
 
In the end, they weren’t late for the training, because Kazuha was able to get ready in five minutes… 
 
Okay, so maybe Sakura does have a few embarrassing roommate stories, though, thankfully, not as extreme as Yunjin’s examples. Still, there’s no way in hell she’s sharing them with the blonde.
 
But she didn’t lie when she told her that living with Kazuha was fine. It’s just that it was different. 
 
Sakura should have foreseen it, because Kazuha is nothing like Nagisa was. She isn’t a tiny university student who hates soccer and whose life couldn’t be more different from Sakura’s. No. Kazuha is her teammate. And that significant detail introduced a slew of changes into Sakura’s life…
 
Sakura was no longer leaving for the training alone. She now left with Kazuha, and they also came back together. Most of their commuting time they spent in silence which wasn’t exactly awkward but not exactly comfortable either. 
 
Actually, the first time they commuted together, Kazuha dozed off. Sakura didn’t notice until she felt a weight on her shoulder, and the faint scent of spring flowers, of which she became acutely aware the moment Kazuha had taken a seat next to her, wasn’t so faint anymore. 
 
At first, she considered moving her shoulder to stir the girl awake, but when she saw her peacefully sleeping face, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. And so she sat still the entire train ride, staring through the window while trying to stop herself from blushing. Her cheeks and ears pulsating with heat told her she failed miserably at that. 
 
When they reached their station, Sakura lightly tapped Kazuha on the arm, and the moment her head was off Sakura’s shoulder, Sakura shot up from her seat as if it burned her. 
 
She avoided Kazuha’s gaze the whole day, and on their way back home, she chose to stand on the train, despite her exhaustion. That proved to be an even worse idea, because the moment the train came to a halt she lost her balance, almost falling onto Kazuha who sat in front of her. The girl managed to catch her by grabbing her waist, and after stuttered apologies from both parties, Sakura decided that in the end, it was better to sit down…
 
And now she rolls her eyes, watching as one of their midfielders, a tiny girl with short hair named Yumi, trips on thin air just as she passes by Kazuha and conveniently ends up in her arms; a scene taken directly out of some cheesy yuri manga.
 
Kazuha checks on the girl, which turns Yumi into a flustered, blushing mess, and then she somehow catches Sakura’s gaze. 
 
Sakura looks away so quickly she gets a whiplash.
 
“You okay?” Yunjin asks when Sakura lets go of her ankles to rub the back of her stiff neck.
 
“Yeah,” she mumbles, the left side of her jaw feeling a little numb.
 
Being done with the crunches, Sakura follows Yunjin to the treadmills for some cardio training. After a while of running, Kazuha joins her on the treadmill next to her which wouldn’t be anything particularly worth noting if not for the fact that the girl has recently become also her jogging partner. All because of Sakura’s innate competitiveness...
 
The thing was that Sakura prided herself on her discipline. That’s why even though she hated getting up early in the morning, she woke up every day at 5:30 am to go for a  jog before leaving for practice. She had been doing that without fail for the last eight years already. 
 
And the first day with Kauzha as her new roommate was no different. Despite not catching much sleep, she woke up to the sound of her alarm clock and clambered off the bed. She checked the weather, and it looked like it would be another sunny day. After changing into her jogging clothes, leggings and sleeveless t-shirt, she went to the kitchen to grab a granola bar and refill her water bottle.
 
As she was about to leave the kitchen, Kazuha stepped out of her room, yawning and stretching. Her drowsy eyes ran up and down Sakura’s frame.
 
“You’re going for a jog?” the girl asked, eyes now slightly wider and more alert. “Can I join?”
 
Sakura was taken aback by the suggestion. She had been always running alone, and to be honest, she would prefer to keep it that way. 
 
But before she could say anything, Kazuha must have already read the reluctance on her face as she mumbled, “Right, you probably have different pace than me.”
 
Sakura narrowed her eyes.
 
Is she suggesting that I’m slower than her?
 
Now that was just a ridiculous idea. Sure, maybe Kazuha was faster than her on the field, but surely, Sakura would be able to keep up with her on a morning jog.
 
“You can join if you want,” she blurted out, ignoring how Kazuha’s face lit up with a smile. “But no talking.”
 
The girl nodded eagerly. “Sure. Let me just get changed.” And she disappeared into her room.
 
Letting out a frustrated groan, Sakura’s shoulders slumped, and she facepalmed. Again it felt like she got outplayed in the easiest way possible. It was becoming embarrassing, really. 
 
Kazuha reemerged just minutes later from her room, wearing a similar outfit to Sakura’s. The only difference being that her t-shirt was shorter in length than Sakura’s, which at this point was expected.
 
They left the apartment and started jogging towards the nearby park. And Sakura had no idea what Kazuha meant earlier by different pace, because they literally ran arm in arm the entire run. Not a single word passed between them, as both of them had their headphones on. But Sakura couldn’t help to notice how happy the girl seemed to be, grinning from ear to ear. A stark contrast to the mostly jaded faces of the people they passed by… 
 
Now, when Sakura glances at Kazuha increasing the speed on the treadmill, she realizes the girl must have been holding herself back during their jogging sessions. Sakura ramps up the tempo to match that of Kazuha’s, but after keeping up with her for almost ten minutes, she starts to feel the burn in her legs and lungs and has to tap out. She presses the red button, waiting until the treadmill slows to a complete stop and jumps off of it.
 
Was this the different pace Kazuha had mentioned?
 
“What’s up with this look on your face? Are you planning to murder your new roommate?” Chaewon’s amused voice reaches her as the girl comes up to stand beside her.
 
Not yet, Sakura almost answers but stops herself, seeing how Kazuha has left the treadmill and is now approaching them. The girl wipes her forehead with her towel then throws it behind her neck, holding the ends of it.
 
“Are you going to do the weight training maybe? I could use a spotter,” she says.
 
“I can spot you!” A chorus of voices replies as all of their teammates stop their workouts and stare at Kazuha with eager eyes.
 
But the girl ignores them almost as if she hasn’t heard them at all when she asks, “Miyawaki-san?”
 
She showed off her speed and stamina, and now she wants to flaunt how strong she is? No thanks, I’ll pass.
 
“I actually planned to work on my core muscles, but I’m sure Chaewon will help you.” Ignoring Chaewon’s shocked expression, Sakura leaves the two and goes to the opposite end of the gym.
 
Kazuha has introduced enough changes into her life already. And sure, maybe for some Sakura was herself to blame, but at least, she would like to keep her goddamn workout routine intact.

🌸🍃 

The next day after the training, Kazuha’s things arrive from Osaka. There’s not many of them, just a few boxes, but the girl complies when Yunjin once again offers her help. Chaewon tags along, of course, and Sakura rates her grumpiness level at five out of ten which is surprisingly low and gives hope for a bearable afternoon.
 
“Are we at least getting a free dinner out of this?” Chaewon mutters to Sakura when they are alone in the corridor.
 
Sakura chuckles. “I’m sure she’ll pay you back somehow.”
 
“Yeah, if Yunjin allows for that. Look at her.” Cheawon nudges her chin towards Kazuha and Yunjin who stand in the threshold of Kazuha’s room, talking and laughing. “She’s completely smitten with her.”
 
Sakura observes the two for a moment, but she doesn’t really notice the smitten part. Yunjin shows Kazuha something on her phone, most likely some meme she found on Twitter or TikTok, and they burst out laughing. 
 
Sakura had her own suspicions about Yunjin and her intentions, but not once had she seen her act flirty towards the younger girl. All their interactions so far gave off friendly, wholesome vibes only. But this isn’t how Chaewon sees it, apparently. 
 
“Are you jealous?” Sakura teases.
 
As much as she’s against meddling into whatever this thing between Chaewon and Yunjin may or may not be, at this point, her friend is basically asking for such comments. There’s a limit to how clueless Chaewon can act before Sakura starts calling her out on it, and she’s dangerously close to reaching it.
 
Chaewon’s gaze snaps to her. “No?” She frowns, offended. “Are you crazy? Why would I ever be jealous of her?”
 
Sakura shrugs. “Then why do you care if she’s smitten with Kazuha or not?”
 
“I don’t. It’s just… she’s annoying. The way she’s following her around and… and… Well, you know what I mean.”
 
That’s the point, Sakura doesn’t know. And she’s pretty sure Chaewon herself doesn’t know either.
 
“Ugh, whatever,” Chaewon huffs in frustration then lifts one of the boxes and carries it to the room, making sure to walk right between Kazuha and Yunjin. 
 
Shaking her head, Sakura tries to lift another box, but it proves to be way too heavy as if packed with bricks.
 
“I’ll take it,” Kazuha offers as she runs up to her, but then she also struggles to lift it.
 
Sakura manages to reign in the smirk of satisfaction.
 
“What is this?” Kazuha puts her hands on her sides, eyebrows furrowed while staring at the box.
 
“Let’s just open it,” Sakura suggests, already going to the kitchen for the knife.
 
She passes it to Kazuha, and the girl slices the tape.
 
“Are you kidding me?” she groans the moment she reveals the content of the box. “I told them not to send those.”
 
Sakura glances over the girl’s shoulder to check what caused such a reaction and turns out the box hides a ton of medals and trophies. At the top of the pile lies a shiny gold medal with the U-20 World Cup trophy engraved on it. 
 
The familiar green and ugly feeling rears its head again. 
 
“Where am I supposed to keep them?”
 
“Send it back then,” Sakura says dryly.
 
Kazuha looks at her a little perplexed then diverts her gaze back to the box with a sigh. 
 
“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to. I just don’t get why they would send it when I specifically told them not to. Mom probably doesn’t want to clean the dust off of them but feels bad for keeping them in a box.”
 
Sakura keeps her medals in a box in the closet. But it’s not like there’s anyone who would want to keep them for her either. So she kinda gets it. 
 
Though maybe if she had a World Cup medal, her dad would hang in the corridor of his apartment for every guest to see. Then again, she doubts he has visitors. As for her mom, she definitely wouldn’t feel guilty about hiding them in a basement of her house or would straight up sell them. Hard to tell what she would do about the potential World Cup medal. Sakura wants to believe it would be an exception.
 
“Yunjin, will you help me carry this to my room?” Kazuha calls out to the blonde who in her typical Yunjin fashion is busy teasing Chaewon about something, poking her sides and eliciting half-hearted squeals of protest from the shorter girl.
 
Sakura frowns. Now why would Kazuha ask Yunjin to help her when she stands right next to her? Does she think she’s not strong enough or something? Is it because she didn’t want to spot her at the gym yesterday?
 
“I can help you,” she mutters when Yunjin doesn’t reply, too occupied with fighting off Chaewon’s retaliation attacks.
 
Kazuha’s eyes seem doubtful which only further annoys Sakura. 
 
“What are you staring at? Come on, grab the other end,” she orders, and Kazuha finally starts moving and bends to grab the box. “Okay, one, two—”
 
“Wait,” Kazuha cuts her off.
 
“What?” Sakura looks up at her, both of them still bend over the box.
 
“Are we lifting it on three as in one, two, three and when you say three, we lift it, or you say three and then we lift it?”
 
Sakura tilts her head to the side, staring at the girl blankly. “What? I don’t get it.”
 
“Do we lift it during you say three, or after?”
 
Sakura is at a loss of words and has no idea how the simple act of lifting a box on the count of three can cause so much confusion for the girl, but the seriousness with which Kazuha delivers her question prompts a chuckle from her. 
 
“Zuha, on three, so when I say three we lift it, okay?”
 
“Gotcha.” Kazuha gives an earnest nod like she’s about to perform a task of utmost importance, and Sakura once again wonders what’s going on in that head of hers.
 
They manage to carry the box to Kazuha’s room without further complications and hide it in the closet for the time being.
 
“Uhm, you don’t want to keep at least the World Cup medal?” Sakura asks, thinking it’s only normal to have your biggest achievement of historical value put on display. 
 
But Kazuha gives her a look like now she’s the one who doesn’t get her question. 
 
“I don’t really like useless stuff cluttering my space,” she says, shrugging.
 
Sakura blinks, taken aback. “Ah, I see…”
 
It kind of irks her how nonchalant the girl is about the biggest accomplishment of her life. She remembers how devastated she was when she wasn’t able to achieve it during her U-20 World Cup and had to settle for the worst place of them all, fourth. If there were medals given for the fourth place, those would be the ones deserving their place in boxes shoved inside closets. But it’s not her place to tell the girl what she should or shouldn’t do with her medals, nor how she should feel about them.
 
The conversation ends there, and Kazuha leaves the room to get the last box from the corridor.
 
“Oh my gosh!” Yunjin squeals, taking a framed photo from one of the opened boxes, having no regard for Kazuha’s privacy. Sakura guesses the goalkeeper already considers them close enough friends for such behavior to be normal. “Kkura, look at this! Isn’t this just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” 
 
Sakura approaches the gushing blonde.
 
The photo shows a little girl with that familiar silly, wide grin, chasing after a ball. It’s simply impossible to remain stoic in the face of such cuteness. Sakura hums her agreement, unable to keep herself from grinning as well.
 
“How old were you, Zuha?” Yunjin asks as Kazuha returns to the room and sets aside the box she’s carrying.
 
Sakura reels in her smile and moves aside when the younger girl joins them.
 
“Four,” she replies, taking the photo from Yunjin.
 
“You’ve been playing soccer since you were four?” The blonde asks in disbelief. 
 
Sakura doesn’t understand what’s so surprising about that. She started playing at the same age.
 
“Well, technically, since I was three.”
 
Oh.
 
“Sheesh, you must really love it.”
 
“It’s funny, because I wasn’t even supposed to play it.”
 
That catches Sakura’s attention. “What do you mean?” 
 
Smiling, Kazuha plops down on her bed as if preparing for a longer story. Yunjin joins her on the bed while Sakura doesn’t move from her spot beside the window. Chaewon also makes an appearance, but she doesn’t enter the room, only leans against the door frame, arms crossed at her chest.
 
“When I was three,” Kazuha begins. “My parents wanted to sign me up for ballet lessons. But on the way to the ballet school, we passed by a soccer field where kids were practicing before a game. One kid kicked the ball so hard it ended up outside the field and under my feet. My dad said my eyes went as wide as saucers,” she chuckles. “I kicked the ball then started running after it, and when he took it away from me, I sat down on the pavement and just cried endlessly.”
 
It’s at that point Sakura regrets not having sat down, because the story starts to sound awfully familiar, like a long forgotten dream being pulled out from the depths of her subconsciousness, and it takes everything in her not to stop Kazuha from further recounting it.
 
“One of the girls who practiced had noticed my tantrum and decided to give me her ball. And so, my dad, who’s like super superstitious by the way, decided it had to be some divine intervention and instead of ballet, he signed me up for soccer.”
 
Stumbling back, Sakura hits the window sill behind her but doesn’t even register the pain. White noise buzzes in her ears as she stares wide-eyed at the floor under her feet. 
 
It has to be a joke, right? There’s no way that she… that I… there’s just no ing way…
 
“Damn, that’s like some crazy destiny,” Yunjin remarks, staring at Kazuha in awe, her reaction eliciting a chuckle from the younger girl.
 
“Yeah, maybe.” 
 
“And you remember all of that?” Chaewon remarks doubtfully.
 
Kazuha shakes her head. “Not everything. Dad told me how it happened. But I do remember the moment that girl gave me her ball. I actually still have it.” Reaching under her bed, Kazuha takes out a slightly scuffed blue Nike ball.
 
Sakura’s heart drops to her stomach at the sight.
 
“Ooh, what if that girl plays in the league with us? Wouldn’t that be insane?”
 
“Sakura, are you feeling okay?” Chaewon’s muted voice reaches Sakura as if from underwater. Her ever observant friend straightens herself, eyebrows pinched in worry.  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
 
“I… feel sick.” Sakura swallows, voice shaky. “Maybe it’s something I ate.” And without further explanation, she flees to the bathroom.
 
She shuts the door behind her and braces her hands against the sink, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror above it. At the person who has apparently changed Nakamura Kazuha’s fate, because she felt sorry for a three year old kid who wouldn’t stop crying over a stupid ball. 
 
And sure, maybe even if their paths hadn’t crossed that day, maybe even then Kazuha would have somehow ended up playing soccer, but they’ll never find that out, so as it stands, the one who helped create the ‘Golden Child of Soccer’ was no one else than Sakura herself. 
 
Just yesterday she was thinking about all the ways in which Kazuha had changed her life, but that was concerning small, insignificant stuff, like placement of the stupid breakfast bowls or commuting companionship. It’s not like Kazuha’s appearance has suddenly changed her life’s entire trajectory. But that was apparently what Sakura had done to her life. And if she were to be honest, it all sounded like some sick and twisted cosmic joke.
 
She opens the faucet and splashes cold water on her face. It helps to calm her nerves a little and tethers her back in reality. Nothing can be done now, anyway. It’s not like she can restart her life like a video game to choose a different path with a different ending; one that sends little Nakamura Kazuha to a ballet academy. For what it's worth, though, the girl at least doesn’t seem to remember her. So all she has to do is to pretend she has never heard Kazuha’s story of how she had discovered soccer.
 
She wipes her face with a towel, gives herself a once over in the mirror, and after fixing her hair and deciding she no longer looks like she just went through five stages of grief, she finally leaves the bathroom.
 
But of course, who does she bump into the moment she steps outside? The might-have-been prima ballerina. 
 
“Sorry, just wanted to check on you.” Kazuha catches Sakura by the arms, preventing the collision that was about to happen. 
 
The girl looks down at her, eyes swimming with worry, and their sudden proximity makes Sakura crave the cold water again. Yet somehow, despite the burn of Kazuha’s hands against her bare arms, and the heat that crawls up her neck, Sakura is unable to move or even tear her gaze away from the girl. She cannot believe this tall, soft-spoken girl who suffers from a chronic lack of t-shirts of regular length is the same small kid who threw a tantrum on a pavement in Osaka and to whom she gave her brand new Nike ball.
 
She grew up… well…
 
A sound of doorbell ringing startles them both.
 
“Uhm, I’m fine, excuse me,” Sakura mumbles and squeezes past the girl to go and answer the door.
 
To her surprise, it’s the courier who earlier delivered Kazuha’s stuff. 
 
“Apologies, there was one more thing I forgot to bring.” He hands Sakura a package in the shape of a large square wrapped in a gray paper like some kind of painting.
 
Holding the package in both hands, Sakura closes the door behind her with her foot. 
 
“Kazu—” She’s about to call the owner of the delivery when something catches her attention. 
 
Some of the packaging paper had torn in the middle, giving Sakura a glimpse into what’s underneath it.
 
What the actual…?
 
She puts down the package, propping it against the wall.
 
“Ah! Wait, wait, wait! Don’t!”
 
Ignoring Kazuha’s panicked calls, Sakura rips off the paper, revealing a framed poster of… herself.