Not long after Sakura’s exit from the field, Kazuha scores a goal. Though the two events are hardly related since Kazuha scores a header from a corner kick. It’s nothing spectacular; she just happened to be at the right place at the right time. At least, that’s what Sakura tells herself. But it gets the crowd going, and the atmosphere at the stadium becomes much livelier than it was just ten minutes ago.

Chaewon high fives Kazuha who is still very tame in her celebration, just like during the recent training. No jumps. No hugs. Just that one high five, and they’re back to their half of the field. It feels weird, watching Kazuha be all serious and focused without her signature grin on her face. It’s almost as if she’s a completely different person, like she switched bodies with her no-nonsense, try-hard twin or something.

Sakura wonders what caused such a drastic change in her attitude, the pressure of her sudden center forward position, the fear of losing this match, or perhaps, she underestimated just how much her aloof act towards Kazuha has affected her. Whatever it is, though, it surely doesn’t make her play better. That is not to say that she plays badly. It’s just that it feels like she overthinks her every move, instead of relying on her instincts like she usually does.

She has two more scoring opportunities, but each time her shots are too powerful, and the ball ends up flying way over the crossbar. There’s an uncharacteristic desperation to her actions, and if only she relaxed a bit, played with her usual lightness, she could have easily scored those two goals.

Sakura curses under her breath whenever she sees Kazuha miss her shots. Her dad would probably tell her to be happy that her rival is messing up but try as she might, she’s unable to feel glad over Kazuha’s not so stellar performance.  At this point, she just wants them to win this game and be over with it.

When the referee signals the end of the match, she lets out a sigh of relief and joins their supporters in applauding her teammates. 

She seeks out her dad in the crowd but finds his seat already empty.

🌸🍃

Despite their victory, the atmosphere in the locker room is far from triumphant. Of course, the team greets Kazuha with compliments and pats on the back when she enters, but as everyone takes their seats, waiting for their coach to speak, a tense silence descends upon them.

Sitting with her arms crossed at her chest, Sakura ignores the questioning glances some of her teammates give her. She understands they are upset with her, she would be too in their place, but it’s not like she can do anything about it now.

But there’s one gaze that she seeks out herself, out of her curiosity over what the girl may be thinking of her now. Naturally, Sakura expects to find resentment and disappointment written all over Kazuha’s face. Maybe even anger? But when their eyes meet across the room, she’s greeted by a smile that cannot be described as anything else but sad.

Quickly, she averts her gaze to the side. How does the saying go? Never meet your heroes? Sakura wishes someone had told that to Kazuha in order to save her from all the disillusionment she must be feeling right now.

She leaves this train of thought, since it leads to nowhere - what’s done is done, and focuses instead on what the coach has to say. 

He starts with the positives and praises Kazuha and Chaewon for their performance. Then he says how he knows they can do better as a team and points out all the mistakes they made, meaning, he mainly lists all the scoring opportunities Sakura had wasted due to her ball hogging. 

She nods to each remark, acting as if she hasn’t been already aware of what she could have done better.

“Just play your usual game, the way you do during the training, understood?” He looks straight into her eyes, and she replies with a firm ‘understood’ and a stilted smile. 

He ends his speech with a few more words of encouragement directed at the whole team and leaves.

It could have been worse, Sakura thinks to herself. 

Coach Takahashi could have been much harsher in his feedback but for some reason, he decided to spare her. However, she knows who won’t be so forgiving, and she almost shudders, thinking about another torturous training with her dad.

She sighs under her breath as she’s about to punch in the code to her locker, when all of sudden, someone grabs her by her waist, turns her around and before she knows it, she’s thrown over Yunjin’s shoulder and carried out of the locker room like a bag of rice.

“What the hell, Yunjin?! Let go of me!” she yells, struggling against the goalkeeper’s grip, but it’s like the girl’s arms are made of steel. “Huh Yunjin! I swear if you don’t let go of me right this second,” she keeps yelling, but Yunjin remains unimpressed by her threats.

Yunjin doesn’t let go of her until they are in some empty meeting room. And once her feet are back on the ground, she’s ready to lash out at the blonde, but then she sees Yunjin’s face and the words die in . 

Everyone who’s familiar with Yunjin knows she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s a golden retriever personified - cheerful, goofy and friendly. All throughout their almost two years of friendship, Sakura has never seen the girl angry, or even seriously glaring, that is until now.

Yunjin’s angry scowl sends literal shivers down Sakura’s as she takes a step back. However, to her utter horror, Yunjin advances as well, and that’s how Sakura finds herself with her back pressed against a cold, hard wall as the blonde looms over her.

“What the hell has gotten into you, Miyawaki?!” Yunjin’s loud voice echoes in the empty room, making Sakura flinch. “What has Zuha suddenly done to you that you’ve decided she was not worthy of touching the ball today, huh?”

Sakura narrows her eyes at the mention of the girl’s name. 

Why is everyone so damn obsessed with her? Their whole team acts like they’re in love with her. Her dad tries to convince her Kazuha is this big, scary nemesis of hers. Even Chaewon with her stupid, unfounded jealousy. And now, Yunjin becomes her knight in shining armor. 

Has everyone collectively lost their minds over Nakamura Kazuha?

“She didn’t do anything. And aren’t you overreacting a bit? Dragging me here against my will like that? What the hell even was that just now?” she says, matching Yunjin’s glare.

The goalkeeper scoffs. “Right, because if I told you that we need to talk, you would just happily follow me out of your own free will.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Sakura retorts through clenched teeth. She’s slowly becoming fed up with the way Yunjin is treating her. Why can’t she just accept that she has screwed up and leave it at that? “I had a bad game, happens to everyone.”

“Bull,” Yunjin snaps. “You’ve never been the hogging ball type. And you two played insanely well during the practice. So clearly, something must have happened between the two of you. And I won’t let you sabotage this team over some stupid roommate drama. Because in case you’ve forgotten, soccer is a team sport. If you lose, I lose, Chaewon loses, we all lose!”

Sakura throws her hands up in frustration. “For ’s sake Yunjin, there’s no roommate drama!”

Just then the door to the room opens and Chaewon enters. “Has she told you anything?” she asks as she walks up to Yunjin.

“No. She says there’s no drama between them. What about you? Any luck?”

“Well, she did suggest a few reasons, but nothing serious enough. She mentioned something about spilled milk and breakfast bowls? I honestly found it quite difficult to follow her logic. But I don’t think Sakura would be so upset with her over some spilled milk.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Sakura is that petty.”

“Maybe we should have done this the other way around. I think you'd be able to understand Kazuha better.”

"Well, I'd like to see you try carrying Kkura on your back."

"No one asked you to do that. I only told you that it'd be best to talk to them separately."

Sakura looks between the two as they continue to talk about her as if she isn’t standing right next to them. 

“Wait, so you’ve been interrogating Kazuha about this as well?”

“You should have seen her face, though,” Chaewon tells Yunjin, ignoring Sakura’s question. “Poor girl was on the verge of tears. Something definitely must have happened.”

“Nothing happened!” Sakura cries out in frustration.

Chaewon looks at her like she has just now become aware of her presence in the room. She wants to say something, but Yunjin interrupts her.

“Wait a minute.” The goalkeeper narrows her eyes and zeros in on Sakura. “Could it be that you two kissed, or something?”

Sakura’s face flares up, and she’s not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or anger, probably both. “What?!”

Yunjin crosses arms at her chest, still giving her that suspicious look. “Well, did you?”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sakura mutters to herself, cradling her forehead with her palm.

She can sense an impending migraine.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. You’re both hot and single. Just sayin’, sometimes things may get a little awkward after and–”

“Stop!” Sakura yells, suppressing her urge to literally punch the girl. “Just stop talking, Yunjin! Goddammit!”

“Okay, let’s just all take a breather and calm down,” Chaewon chimes in and signals Sakura to relax then spears Yunjin with a glare.

The blonde opens her arms, mouthing ‘what?’ as Chaewon shakes her head at her.

“Great, then I’m leaving.” Sakura is about to walk away, desperate to get under a cold shower when Chaewon stops her by grabbing her arms.

“Wait.” 

Sakura gives her the are-you-ing-kidding-me? look, warning her about not testing her patience.

“Please?” Chaewon pleads, and Chaewon never pleads, so Sakura rolls her eyes and gestures to her to continue. “I believe that you two haven’t argued about anything, but you have to admit that you weren’t exactly at the top of your game, today. And when I talked to Kazuha, it seemed like something was bothering her, and I don’t know how or why, but I’m pretty sure that something is somehow related to you.”

Sakura almost scoffs, hearing that. 

Yeah, that would be a good guess, Chaewon. Wow, nothing gets past you, huh? Well, except Yunjin and her heart eyes, I guess, she’s tempted to say all that and more but bites her tongue.

“So please, do us all a favor and talk to her, okay?”

“Yeah, you know,” Yunjin cuts in. “That thing when people open their mouths to make sounds that make words which they then use to exchange ideas, or I don’t know, communicate their feelings and emotions. Ever tried that?”

“ off, Yunjin,” Sakura mutters, being fed up with the goalkeeper’s sarcasm.

One more such sarcastic remark, and she’s seriously going to start calling them both out on their hypocrisy. 

“Good!” The blonde smirks. “You see? You can do that. Just maybe try a different conversation starter.”

“Okay Yunjin, that’s enough,” Chaewon reprimands her.

Yunjin’s smirk immediately vanishes from her face, and she looks away from them, mumbling something under her breath.

Having pacified the goalkeeper, Chaewon turns to Sakura again. “Please, just try talking to her, that’s all I ask. Because trust me, no one wants to see our best player being sent to the bench thirty minutes before the game’s end.”

Well, she cannot really argue with that.

“Fine,” she sighs in defeat. “I promise I’ll talk to her.”

🌸🍃

Sakura stumbles upon Kazuha as the younger girl leaves the locker room. Her eyes are slightly reddened and she looks everywhere but at Sakura.

Was she about to leave without me? I guess, I can’t really blame her.

It catches Sakura by surprise just how sad the thought makes her feel. Could it be that she has already grown accustomed to Kazuha’s presence? She’s been annoyed by how everyone seems to obsess over her, but maybe she isn’t any better.

“Hey, uhm, I still need to take a shower and get changed. Will you wait for me, please?” she asks hopefully and can’t stop the small smile from showing when Kazuha replies with a murmured ‘sure’.

She takes a quick shower, blow-dries her hair, and after she changes into her regular clothes, she meets Kazuha outside the locker room.

They leave the stadium, walking in silence, side by side, at a slower than usual pace. The sun has already set and there’s a distinct chill in the air, a tell-tale sign of the approaching Autumn.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Sakura wonders how to breach the topic of today’s match. Technically, she could wait until they’re at home, but with how silent and dejected Kazuha acts right now, she wants to get things straight as soon as possible. She has reached her limit of acting indifferent to that sad look on Kazuha’s face, and slowly, she begins to despise it, even more so, because she knows she’s the one who’s causing it. Thus, she concludes that an apology would be a good place to start.

“Miyawaki-san—”

“Kazuha—”

They look at each other flustered, eyes connecting only for a brief second before Sakura’s flicker to her worn-out sneakers.

“Ah, you go first,” she says, glancing again at the girl.

Kazuha nods, her fingers around the strap of her duffel bag flexing ever-so-slightly, and she takes a deep breath as though gathering courage before a dive. “You’ve been… distant, lately. Have I done something to upset you?”

The look Kazuha gives her all but breaks Sakura’s heart. Her eyes are like those of a scolded puppy that has no idea what they did wrong. And the fact that she doesn’t even mention the match but rather addresses how Sakura has been treating her throughout the week makes her feel even worse than she already has.

“Am I annoying you?” Kazuha continues in a small voice that sounds like it’s about to break. 

Sakura shakes her head. “No, you’re not annoying. And you didn’t do anything to upset me,” she says with what she hopes is a reassuring smile. 

It seems to work as the concerned frown on Kazuha’s face melts away, replaced by a soft smile.

“Hmm…” the girl hums in thought, eyes back on the path ahead of them. “Then I need to work harder.”

Sakura tilts her head in question, an amused smile playing on her lips. “What do you mean? You want me to be upset with you?”

“No,” Kazuha chuckles. “I need to work harder to be a better player so that Miyawaki-san can trust me.”

“Ah…”

There it is -  the topic of the match. So Kazuha thinks that the reason why Sakura hasn’t been passing the ball to her was because she didn’t trust the girl’s skills enough? It’s absurd, of course, and the fact that the younger girl somehow blames herself for something that was entirely Sakura’s fault deeply troubles her.  

The coach praised her. The team commended her. Their supporters most likely have hailed her as a hero by now (Sakura doesn’t even want to know what they think of her). And yet, all she seems to care about is what Sakura thinks of her skills. Why? Because she’s her idol? But that’s stupid. She’s only a few years older and her experience cannot compare to that of their coach. Her opinions shouldn’t really matter to the girl.

If Sakura’s dad heard what Kazuha had just said, he would scoff and tell her to use it to her own advantage.

Because it seems like it would be so easy for Sakura to make the girl doubt herself. To pick apart her confidence and push her thoughts in all the wrong directions. After all, how can’t she see that she has done nothing wrong? She won the game for them, and here she’s telling Sakura that she needs to work harder to earn her approval? 

If she keeps ignoring Kazuha during the games, will the girl keep blaming herself? Enough for her game to deteriorate, and in turn, remove her as a contender for the spot on the national squad? Maybe.

But that would be…

Sakura’s gaze lingers on Kazuha as she walks beside her, their steps in perfect sync with each other. Her shoulders now relaxed and that soft smile still intact on her lips. The earlier apprehensions seem to be long forgotten. 

It would be cruel, she decides. 

She wants to make it into the national team but not like that. She wants to earn it through her skills, not through mind games and scheming. Besides, today’s plan turned out to be a disaster, anyway. If that’s how she’s going to play for the rest of the season, she can forget about the World Cup, and it’ll be no one’s fault but her own.

Their team needs to play better if she doesn’t want to be ignored in the first place. And for that, she needs to start working with Kazuha. After all, no one will look to draft players from a club that barely wins against the weakest team in the league. 

“Uhm, earlier, you wanted to tell me something?” Kazuha’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, and she realizes that she’s still staring at the girl’s face.

She averts her gaze to the shop windows they pass by, but in their reflection she notices how Kazuha’s smile widens in amusement, and she finally settles on just staring ahead. 

“I wanted to apologize,” she begins. “I played horribly today. I was hogging the ball, and I wasted too many chances to score.”

“It’s okay. We still won.” Kazuha accepts her apology, and that is something which annoys Sakura. 

The girl shouldn’t let her off the hook so easily. She doesn’t deserve it.  

“No, it’s not okay,” Sakura objects, exasperation clear in her voice and she frowns at the girl. Kazuha’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “My selfishness almost cost us the game.” 

Silence follows her words. 

It’s as if Kazuha senses there’s more that Sakura wants to say. And there is, of course. And if the roles were reversed, Sakura would demand a clearer explanation, some sort of tangible reason for the sudden shift in her behavior. But after just those three weeks they’ve spent together, she has managed to get to know Kazuha enough to guess that she won’t demand, won’t ask, won’t say anything, really. She’ll just wait, patiently. 

And Sakura would like to believe that Kazuha also knows her well enough to know that if she wants to say more, she will. And so she does. Not because she wants to justify herself, but because she feels like she owes it to the girl who all this time blamed herself for everything. 

“The thing is…” Sakura pauses, reorganizing the words in her head to make her explanation as concise as possible without getting into too much detail. “My biggest dream is to win the World Cup, but for that to happen, I need to get into the national team first. And I almost did but then…”

“Your injury,” Kazuha prompts in a gentle tone.

“Yeah.” Sakura casts her gaze to the offending leg. “So now, I have this fear that I may not make it in, and it just really stresses me out, because this may be my last chance, you know?”

“But you’re only twenty-four,” Kazuha sounds genuinely confused.

Sakura swallows a scoff. “I thought so too, but then I ended up in the hospital and started thinking that this is it. This is where my career ends. And I know it may sound dramatic, but I’ve never been so scared in my life…,” her voice begins to falter until it’s nothing but a mere whisper. “I honestly thought I would lose everything.”

She had seen it once already. Her dad’s career changing from headlines about his achievements, to those about his injury, to finally become nothing more than a footnote in someone else's story. From a tale of great success to that of a downfall, until eventually, fading into obscurity altogether.

“Do you know who my father is?” Sakura asks, although she knows the answer. 

Kazuha nods. “Of course. Miyawaki Kentaro.” 

“So you know how his career ended, right?” 

Even after all these years, Sakura still finds it hard to talk about it. How the excitement of the World Cup’s final turned into panic and horror. How the image of her dad’s leg bent at an unnatural angle will forever haunt her mind.

Kazuha nods, again but this time doesn’t elaborate, just asks instead, “You’re afraid it’ll happen to you?”

Sakura shakes her head. “I think if I was afraid, if I thought about it every time I played, I would have to just quit soccer. Those kinds of injuries don’t happen often, anyway. It’s just that when they do…” 

Everything shatters within mere seconds…

“Miyawaki-san?” Kazuha’s voice grounds Sakura back in reality and she shakes off the unpleasant memory, before it has a chance to swallow her whole. 

“Never mind. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I think the stress of the new season got into my head, and I acted like an . I’m sorry you felt like it was somehow your fault.”

“I forgive you. And I’m glad you’ve told me.”

Sakura looks up to find the girl smiling at her again, and somehow it elicits a smile from Sakura as well. Although there’s more she could say, she already feels lighter. Also, she’s glad Kazuha doesn’t seem to be burdened by all the angst she all of a sudden dropped on her. Though now, that makes her wonder about something else.

“Have you thought about the World Cup?” she asks. 

Kazuha purses her lips in thought. Sakura tries not to think how adorable she looks whenever she does that, but here she is, thinking exactly that. There goes her no distractions rule.

I’m really no better than the rest of them, am I?

“Not really,” Kazuha admits with a shrug. “The U-20 Cup was fun, though.”

“Wait, but you do want to get into the senior national team, right?” Sakura frowns at her.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe it’s because I’m content with where I am right now.”

Content with where I am?

Sakura doesn’t even know how to react to this revelation. She has never asked about it before because she took it as a given that Kazuha would have the same ambitions as she had. She was on the U-20 team. So the natural progression would be then to play for the senior team. 

It was the very reason over which Sakura was losing her sleep. The constant fear that the girl would take away her most important number nine from her. Not only because she could, but also because she wanted to take it. But now, it sounds like she’s not even aware that they’re vying for the same spot in the first place. 

Content with where I am?

She thinks back to Kazuha’s gold medal that’s buried in a box and hidden in the closet. 

National team… World Cup… Medals… Trophies… All of these mean nothing to her, don’t they?

She should feel relieved. At least a little bit. Kazuha is less of a threat to her, if she’s not even seriously thinking about playing for the senior team, right? Then why does her palms ball into fists and why does she bite the inside of her cheek so hard she almost draws blood? 

“But now,” Kazuha says, and the moment Sakura glances at her and notices her smile, the tension leaves her body in an instant. “I think I do want it.”

“Now you do?” Sakura’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Yes, because it means I could get to play more matches with you.” Kazuha beams at her, the confession momentarily stunning Sakura into speechlessness.

“Ehh? Why are you saying it like t-that?” she stutters, feeling heat spread across her cheeks as her heart skips a beat.

Kazuha tilts her head to the side, her face a picture of pure innocence when she asks, “Like what?”

Like you want this only because of me? Sakura thinks but even in her own head, the words sound so wrong that she doesn’t dare to say them. Besides, surely, that’s not what the girl means, right? But then, what does she even mean?

I swear Zuha… I’ll lose my mind because of you…

She winces inwardly and runs her hand through her hair as if the gesture were to help erase the embarrassing thoughts. It doesn’t, unfortunately.  

“Uhm, never mind,” she mumbles, unable to look at Kazuha and her clueless expression.

“I’m serious,” the girl says as her steps come to a halt. 

Sakura stops as well and looks up at her. The light of the street lamp bathes Kazuha’s face in a soft, orange glow, the evening breeze mussing her hair. Some stray locks end up across her eyes. Sakura lifts her hand but shoves it back to the pocket of her jacket when Kazuha brushes aside the wisps herself.

And Sakura wishes autumn arrived sooner so that the wind would feel colder against her cheeks.

“You know…,” Kazuha makes a pondering pause, tongue darting to wet her lips. 

Sakura’s breath catches in , but she ignores it and keeps her expression neutral, patiently waiting for the girl to continue, and when she does, it’s with her eyes cast down and voice wistful. 

“Kids at school never understood why I was always so eager to play soccer. Girls thought I did it just to impress boys. And boys, when they let me play with them, never treated me seriously until it turned out I played better than them, in which case, many would get angry and foul me.”

“And then I saw you during the Sendai Cup.” She meets Sakura’s gaze, a small smile making its way onto her lips again. “And I decided that I would do anything I could to one day play with you.” 

“Why?” The question slips past Sakura’s lips unaware.

“Because finally, I saw another girl who understood just how much happiness and freedom this game brings. Someone who played with as much joy and passion as I did.”

Once again Sakura finds herself at a loss of words, just staring dumbfounded at the girl. Kazuha has an uncanny ability to render her speechless while remaining unperturbed herself, and she doesn’t like it. Because it feels as if the gravity of Kazuha’s words exists only in her head like an illusion created by her own ego. Otherwise, how can Kazuha say all these things so easily?

“And you’re right,” the girl continues, unaware of all the turmoil inside Sakura’s head. “One day, it may all end, so I want to make the most of this as it lasts. So, Miyawaki-san?” She bends down slightly so that her eyes are on the same level as Sakura’s.

“Uh-m?” Sakura leans back a little but keeps her feet planted firmly to the ground, not moving them an inch.

“Let’s win the World Cup together,” Kazuha says, once again blinding Sakura with her smile.

“T-together?” she stutters and hates it, because since when does she stutter so much?

Thank God Yunjin and Chaewon aren’t here to witness this.

She reasons that it must be the post-game fatigue that has caught up to her, as it cannot possibly be the fault of Kazuha’s genuine smile, or her bright eyes, or her jasmine scent, or— 

“Yes, together.” 

—or that certainty in her voice.

“O-okay.”

 No, it absolutely , beyond shadow of a doubt , cannot be because of those factors.

“Promise?” Kazuha lifts her pinky, and the sudden movement startles Sakura enough for her to make a step back.

Her gaze shifts between the girl’s now serious face and her finger. She notes that Kazuha’s pinky is almost as long as her index finger.

“Haven’t you ever thought about becoming a goalkeeper?” Sakura blurts out the thought.

Maybe then they wouldn’t have to have this conversation? She wouldn’t have to spend so much time thinking about Kazuha, second-guessing her every move. Maybe Kazuha would have someone else’s posters on her walls instead of hers? Yunjin’s, perhaps?

‘Damn she’s pretty.’ Wait— No. That’s not— ‘Have you seen her abs?’ Ugh, shut up, Yunjin!

Kazuha’s airy chuckle interrupts Sakura’s chaotic battle with the devil-Yunjin on her shoulder.

“They wanted to make a goalkeeper out of me,” the girl admits, lowering her hand. “But I said it’s either striker or nothing.”

“Why? You have the height, you have the hands, and you can jump higher than Yunjin herself.”

“I wanted to play next to you, not behind you,” Kazuha says in a tone that leaves no room for arguments.

Her usually soft eyes now hold fierceness to them that Sakura has never seen before. It wasn’t there when they were winning, nor when they were losing, but it’s here now, when she talks about playing with Sakura.

And Sakura doesn’t know whether it’s that fire behind Kazuha’s eyes, or the words she says, or something else entirely, but whatever it is, it’s convincing enough for her to take the girl’s hand into her own and wrap their pinkies together.

“Promise,” she says, pressing their knuckles and thumbs together.

She had already promised her dad that she would win the World Cup. What difference can another such promise make?