The sixtieth minute of the match passes when Juventus scores their second goal of the match.

Yunjin punches the grass in frustration as she lifts from the ground after her failed attempt to save the striker’s shot, but no one could blame her for that goal. The defenders were more at fault, having been too slow in their reactions and allowing for the striker to slip past them.

Sakura curses under her breath as the scoreboard changes from 1:0 to 2:0. They still have some time to make a comeback but seeing how their team has troubles getting on Juventus' half of the field, she slowly starts to lose hope. 

The strategy she worked on with Kazuha and practiced during their last training session was useless in the face of their midfielders playing too cautiously. It’s like they are afraid of the Juventus players and rather than face them head on, they keep passing back to the defenders. As a result, they force her and Kazuha to go deeper into their own side of the field as well.  

The state of the game looks so hopeless that even their coach seems to have given up and stopped shouting his directions at them.

After another Juventus attack, which thankfully only ends with the ball flying way over the crossbar, both coaches call for changes. 

Sakura uses the short pause in the game to try and come up with some plan B. But when she arrives at nothing, her eyes seek out Kazuha, in hopes that maybe the girl has some idea on how to save this doomed game. 

Yet looking at Kazuha only worsens Sakura’s annoyance as the girl smiles at her from across the field like she’s not bothered at all by the fact that their team plays as if they were a bunch of amateurs. She even has the audacity to give her a thumbs up, which makes Sakura suspect that Kazuha’s idea to win the game is to manifest it through positive thinking.
  
Even when the game looked doomed, you were relentless in your attacks till the very last second, Kazuha’s words ring out in Sakura’s mind all of a sudden. And she realizes that the girl isn’t in denial. She may not have a plan as to how to win the game but that doesn’t mean she has given up already. She smiles because the match hasn’t ended yet and there’s still time. 

Their whole team needs to realize that. But when Sakura sees their tired and discouraged faces, she can tell that unlike Kazuha, they have lost all hope and just waited for the match to end.

“Chaewon!” Sakura shouts to the midfielder as Yunjin prepares to take the goal kick and resume the game. She won’t let her team surrender like that and embarrass them all. If Kazuha can smile, refusing to give up, so can the rest of them. “There’s still time! Just play forward!”

After Chaewon gives her a thumbs up, she runs quickly to Kazuha.

“Listen, I’ll go deeper into their half but don’t pass to me, okay?”

Kazuha gives her a puzzled look.

“Offside traps, remember?”

The girl’s lips form an ‘o’ as her eyes twinkle and she nods enthusiastically. 

Sakura stifles a chuckle. Now really isn’t the time to appreciate Kazuha’s cute reactions. They have a game to win. Also, where did that even come from? Anyway! Back to the game!

“Do everything you can to lose your defenders. They’re fast, but you’re faster.” She pats the girl on the arm and runs to take her position. As expected, two Juventus defenders follow her, ready to catch her in an offside position if there’s ever a pass coming her way. 

Yunjin resumes the game with a long pass that Chaewon traps midair with her chest. Kazuha manages to lose her defenders, and the midfielder immediately takes that opportunity to deliver the ball to her. Finally, the girl breaks into a sprint, running full-speed in Sakura’s direction.
 
Sakura smirks as the distance between them is getting smaller and smaller.  

Kazuha lets the ball in front of her, it travels quite a distance away from her foot, and for a brief moment, it looks like it’s a pass to Sakura, except Sakura makes no effort to take the ball. She stands still, lets the ball pass between her legs and watches as the defenders, who uselessly signal to the referee for an offside, swivel around, scrambling to run after Kazuha who has just ‘outplayed’ her own teammate and now had a free lane to the goal.

Sakura turns around and watches how Kazuha shoots for the goal from just outside the penalty area. With lightning reflexes, Juventus goalkeeper leaps into the air, her gloved hands outstretched in a desperate attempt to save the shot. Yet, just by mere inches, the ball escapes her grasp, hurtling toward the top right corner of the goal and hitting the net.

And as the ball falls back to the ground, F.C. Tokyo supporters jump to their feet and the stadium explodes with cheers. 

It’s been a while since Sakura heard their fans celebrate so loudly. She smiles, listening to their ecstatic singing and clapping, but then she notices Kazuha running at her with her arms spread wide open. 

This was not a part of the plan. 

Sakura’s smile drops and something akin to panic begins to set in her chest, but before she’s able to react in any way, she finds herself engulfed in a crushing hug, her cheek pressed against Kazuha’s shoulder. Never much of a hugger, she pats the girl on the back stiffly.

“That was genius!” Kazuha shouts as she pulls away from Sakura but then proceeds to shake her by the arms.

Despite feeling overwhelmed by Kazuha’s enthusiasm, by her bright smile and shining eyes, by her hands gripping her arms almost painfully so, Sakura cannot help but to mirror her glee, chuckling giddily. And it’s not so much over the fact that they’ve scored, but more over Kazuha’s unrestrained happiness — the kind of joy that reminds Sakura of her first goals scored back when she was just a kid.   

“Good job, guys.” Chaewon joins them in their celebration and gives them both a pat on the back as they walk back to resume the match.

Sakura asks their coach how much time they still have and he informs her that around 22 minutes.The trick they’ve just done won’t work twice, but they still have some time to come up with something new and surprise their opponents again.

However, that’s easier said than done because Juventus defenders are practically glued to Sakura’s and Kazuha’s backs, barely letting them breathe. But at least that one goal gave their midfielders a much needed boost of confidence. And so, when Chaewon manages to get a hold of the ball again, she no longer backs away but pushes forward and they get a chance for one last attack. 

Chaewon sends a cross into the penalty area toward sprinting Sakura who perfectly receives it. And in an instant, two Juventus defenders slide to block her shot but making a split second decision, she passes the ball behind her with her heel. Seconds later the Tokyo supporters are off their seats again, cheering even louder than before.

Only Sakura’s dad remains his stoic self. 

She tears her gaze away from him and looks behind her at Kazuha who delivered the ball into the net with a slide as the screen above the stands shows. And this time Sakura is ready for the hug that follows.

Or so she thought she was. 

Because when Kazuha wraps her arms around her in a much gentler manner than before, and says softly, just above her ear, 'thanks for that pass', Sakura has to fight off the urge to push her away and cover her pulsating ear. She knows the girl’s voice is husky from all the running she has been doing for the last ninety minutes, but the awareness of it does little to calm down Sakura’s thudding heart. 

Adrenaline… must be that, she reasons in her head as she grips onto Kazuha’s jersey, reciprocating the hug, because the alternative is to flee from the stadium and that would be embarrassing enough for her to announce her retirement. 

Luckily, Sakura has done her fair share of running too, so when Kazuha finally pulls away from her, the exhaustion she feels serves as an unspoken alibi for her flushed cheeks. 

The match ends in a draw which seems to satisfy the fans of both teams as they keep on cheering even after the final whistle is heard.

Sakura exchanges a few handshakes and polite smiles with the Juventus players and thanks the supporters for their cheers. Briefly, she glances toward where her dad sat earlier, but she finds the seat already empty. She then poses for a few photos and signs some jerseys for the kids from the front rows. 

She notices several supporters wearing jerseys with Kazuha’s number on them and looks for the girl, thinking she may want to sign some autographs as well. But she finds Kazuha exchanging her jersey with one of the Juventus defenders. A woman of the same height as Kazuha, with short hair and pretty face but at least ten years older than the young striker. 

They seem to be chatting about something and Sakura cannot explain why she’s suddenly so upset at her inability to understand English; she stands too far from them to catch what they’re saying, anyway. 

But whatever they’re talking about, it gets Kazuha all fidgety and she starts chewing on her bottom lip while the women’s eyes brazenly roam her body, because of course, Kazuha still hasn’t put on that stupid jersey.

Sakura narrows her eyes, sensing something isn’t quite right. Her suspicions confirm when Kazuha looks her way with a silent plea in her eyes which Sakura immediately understands as save me. She speed-walks to the girl and gently takes her by the arm, flashing the Juventus player a stilted grin. 

“Let’s go. The coach is waiting.” She all but drags the younger girl away from the woman while Kazuha hastily translates what Sakura has just told her.

“What did she want from you?” Sakura asks, once they are out of the woman's earshot. 

Not that it mattered much, because she surely wouldn’t understand them. However, she could have picked on the bite in Sakura’s voice.

“My number,” Kazuha mutters, her voice a little shaky. “Told me where they stayed at the hotel and made some other comments…”

“Oh…” 

Sakura notices how Kazuha’s grip on the black and white jersey tightens and how she’s still abusing her lips, sinking her teeth into them as she swallows. Whatever that woman told her, it clearly wasn’t welcomed. Enough to make Kazuha reluctant to even put on that damn jersey. 

A hot, burning rage surges inside Sakura’s chest. And it’s only because she knows Kazuha needs her now that she doesn’t go back to that woman to slap her across her face.

“Was she making any comments towards you during the game?” Sakura asks, keeping her voice flat to mask her anger.

The woman had been marking Kazuha the whole game, so she definitely had an opportunity to slip in some unsolicited remarks while she was hanging off her shoulder.

Kazuha shakes her head. “No.”

“Good,” Sakura says curtly.

Still, what was that woman thinking? What was she trying to achieve? She thought she would seduce Kazuha and the girl would run to her hotel room to spend the night with her? Has she had no shame?

Pathetic.

Suddenly she thinks about Kaname. About her dark, piercing gaze and smirking, handsome face. But just as these thoughts appear, she immediately shoves them back to the depths of her mind where they should remain forgotten. 

This is not about Kaname. This is not about me.

She looks around for the kit man to get a spare jersey, but the guy is nowhere to be found, probably already inside the stadium, so she stops and takes off her own jersey then hands it to Kazuha.

“Here. Put it on.”

The girl looks at her taken aback before her lips break into a small smile. “Thank you, Miyawaki-san.” She takes the jersey and puts it on. 

As expected, it’s a little too short for her. But Sakura thinks amusedly that in Kazuha’s case, that just means the jersey is actually a perfect fit for her. Plus, it’s better than nothing. She then takes from Kazuha the black and white jersey and puts it on. And in her case, the result is the opposite, as the jersey is too big for her, looking as if she’d stolen it from her dad’s closet.

Kazuha takes a look at her, a kind of impish grin painting on her lips. “Looks good on you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Sakura says. “We look ridiculous.”

“We kinda do,” Kazuha agrees.

But Sakura doesn’t mind looking silly if it means easing Kazuha’s discomfort, and seeing the smile return to the girl’s face is definitely worth it. 

Together they return to the locker room and Sakura takes her seat next to Kazuha while the coach gives his feedback on the game. Their odd jersey swap earns them a few raised eyebrows from their teammates, but Sakura answers those with a look that deters any questions. She especially makes it clear to Yunjin, who sits across from them, that no teasing will be tolerated by shooting her the coldest glare she can muster. And it seems to work as the goalkeeper’s smirk immediately disappears from her face and she looks away from them.

Coach Takahashi praises their performance, especially the teamwork displayed between her and Kazuha which prompts an applause from the rest of the team and a few enthusiastic hoots initiated by Yunjin.

After he leaves, Sakura returns to her locker. She takes off the Juventus jersey, making a mental note of the last name on the back, in case they meet again, and shoves it to the bottom of her duffel bag. At the same time, her phone vibrates and she fishes it out from the bag to check it. To her surprise, it’s a text message from her dad.

Dad
Tomorrow 6 pm
Don’t be late

Clenching her teeth, she tosses the phone back to the bag. For a split second, she hoped to read something like good job or you did well today. And that’s what pisses her off the most. Her own naivety that she thought she had grown out of already. 

How could she ever think that a draw would be enough to earn her praise from her dad?

It didn’t matter that it was a friendly match. It didn’t matter they were preparing for a different opponent a week prior to the game. It didn’t matter that Juventus were Champions League’s winners. Those were all just pathetic excuses. In the end, the only thing that mattered was a victory and a draw wasn’t a victory. A draw just meant that both teams were losers. 

And that she needed an extra training session on her day off.

🌸🍃

On the train home, all Sakura can think of is her dad’s text message. His words feel like a thinly veiled threat (in a sense, she knows that’s what they are) and weigh heavily on her mind, adding to her exhaustion as she can already imagine what awaits her tomorrow when she faces him.

Nothing pleasant.

In an attempt to distract herself from thinking about it, and perhaps, to make herself feel a bit better, she skims through a few articles about the match on her phone, and while all of them slam them for their hesitant and cautious gameplay in the first sixty minutes, they command them for their later comeback, much like their coach did. They also give the highest notes to her and Kazuha.

And yet, that’s not enough.

She scoffs inwardly as again, her thoughts circle back to her dad, and she wonders whether he even reads these articles in the first place. She doubts he does. 

It was kind of ironic, because she remembers her dad loved the attention the media was giving him, and the sports reporters adored him. He was charming, witty and always ready to share his thoughtful insights on the game. 

In the mornings, on the rare occasions when they ate breakfast together, because he had a day off or his training started at a later hour, he would read them snippets from the sports column that mentioned him and his team, sounding proud yet never boastful.

One day, they will write about you, kiddo, he would say, reaching across the table to ruffle Sakura’s hair affectionately. He seemed eager then, like he couldn’t wait for it more than she could herself.

But when the same newspapers began writing about her, it was at the worst time possible. When everything around them began crumbling, slowly at first, then abruptly with the intensity of an earthquake. The tears, the arguments, the sound of the doors slamming shut — she still remembers it all, like a wound that has never properly healed; although it no longer oozes blood, it still hurts.

And so, she had never dared to read anything about herself at loud to her dad, or her mom, instinctively knowing the words would only cause further aftershocks. As along with her name, her father’s would be always brought up, too. It was as if the phrase Miyawaki Kentaro’s daughter became her second name. To be honest, she didn’t even want to be seen reading those articles, so she only did it while she was at school.

Even though Miyawaki has not scored, her creativity and quick thinking were definitely the key factors that allowed F.C. Tokyo to come back, saving them from an almost certain loss, she reads again the line from one of the articles. 

Nowadays she wonders if people even remember that she’s that Miyawaki. When they read about her, do they pause and think ‘ah, that’s Miyawaki Kentaro’s kid, right?’, and if this does happen, do they then start wondering about him? Where is he? What is he doing? What has happened to him? Or maybe they think none of that, maybe to them Miyawaki Kentaro’s daughter and Miyawaki Sakura F.C. Tokyo’s striker are two different, separate people? 

Which one of these two scenarios does she prefer? She isn’t sure.

Shoving the phone back to her duffel bag that lays under her seat, she catches Kazuha looking at her from her seat beside her. She almost forgot about the girl, which was nothing new. She often got lost in thoughts while on the train and Kazuha has never made any attempt to pull her out of them. She always sat beside her, quiet and still, most likely occupied by her own musings. 

And Sakura liked that about her. Liked the fact that Kazuha felt no need for pointless small talk conversations just to fill in the awkward silence between them. As a result, the silence itself became less and less awkward, until it actually became comfortable, reminding Sakura of that time when she saw Kazuha off to the bus station.

But today feels different. Today, Kazuha’s gaze clings to her, unsure yet steady, and Sakura can tell she wants to say something, maybe ask her why doesn’t she look happier about their draw.

In response to the girl’s unrelenting gaze, Sakura musters the best smile she can. She doesn’t want to ruin Kazuha’s contentment over their hard earned, albeit not fully satisfying, draw. She scored two goals; she has a right to feel good about her performance. 

But also, there’s a more selfish reason behind Sakura’s fake smile, as she just really doesn’t want to be questioned right now about her mood and come up with excuses. Yet when Kazuha finally does speak up, which comes as a surprise to Sakura, it’s not a question that leaves her lips but a statement. 

“It was a good game,” she says and smiles.

Could have been better, it’s what Sakura wants to say but swallows the disgruntled comment and settles for, “Yeah, it was,” forcing herself to sound cheerful and hoping it comes out convincing. 

“Thanks to you,” Kazuha adds in a soft voice as if she was sharing a secret.

If not for the fact that they sit side by side, their arms almost touching, Sakura would have missed it.

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, feeling her cheeks heat up. She would roll her eyes at the flattery, but she feels like the sincerity in Kazuha’s voice doesn’t deserve such cynical treatment. 

“I’d argue it’s thanks to you since you’ve scored the goals,” she counters instead.

Kazuha’s lips stretch in a wider grin, giving an impression like that’s exactly what she has expected Sakura to say.

“But that was thanks to your ideas,” she points out.

Sakura shakes her head, smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she bites the inside of her cheek. The girl isn’t giving up, is she? She must have noticed her earlier sour mood and maybe decided to repay her for what she did for her at the stadium after the game. 

“I guess,” she says with a shrug.

“You should give yourself more credit.” Kazuha nudges her arm gently, causing the shy smile she held back to fully bloom on her lips. 

“Thanks, Zuha,” she says softly as she looks up at the girl.

I kinda needed that.

She keeps that afterthought to herself, afraid such words would only bring confusion and questions she doesn’t want to answer.

Kazuha gives her a small nod like she understands even that unspoken part.

And sure, Sakura might have read similar praise just a moment ago in those articles but to actually hear someone say it felt simply… better. Almost as if those words became real only after Kazuha had said them, which sounded silly, but that was how she felt.

Or maybe it wasn’t as much about what has been said but more about how it has been said? Maybe it was the genuine smile on Kazuha’s lips, and the warmth in her soft eyes that actually made Sakura feel good?
 
As these questions invade Sakura’s mind, she realizes she has been staring into Kazuha’s eyes for far longer than necessary. Startled by the sudden, quickened pace of her heart, she looks away and focuses on the passing scenery behind the train window.

The post-match exhaustion really starts messing with her head. She wishes she was already back at home and in her bed. She should have taken Chaewon up on her offer to give them a ride to their apartment. It wasn’t Yunjin’s proposal, after all, so most likely, it would have been okay to agree. 

And yet, she declined. Why? She isn’t sure. She did tell Kazuha though, that if she wanted, she could go with them as she had no problem returning home alone. She was used to it, anyway. But Kazuha also turned down the offer. Whether it was because she didn’t want to impose on Chaewon, or felt bad for leaving Sakura alone, remained a mystery.

Now Sakura wonders whether Kazuha regrets it too and feels just as tired. But judging by her relaxed posture reflected in the train window, she doesn’t seem to be. 

Is it the five year gap between them that results in their different stamina levels? Or is it the outcome of her injury? Or worse, has she been unawarely slacking off during the training? Has her dad noticed?

The season begins in ten days, she thinks as an unfamiliar anxiety twists her stomach. 

Normally, she would feel excited about it. Maybe a little nervous, sure, but excited nonetheless. Now, as she stares at Kazuha, taking in her relaxed shoulders and serene face that shows no signs of fatigue, her thoughts drift back to her dad and his message, and an alarming question emerges at the back of her mind.

Am I even ready for the new season?