Game Changer | Petalz Ðÿœ¸ÐÿƑ Chapter XXVI

It’s over, for good—that’s the conclusion Sakura reaches after a long night of tossing and turning. Again, it’s not something that needs to be said aloud; like so many things between them, it’s understood without words.

Yet, as the first rays of sunlight filter through the blinds, one uncertain question still haunts her: can they remain friends? It echoes in her head when she stumbles upon Kazuha in the kitchen, greeting her with a quiet ‘hey’ only to be met with silence.

Taking her bowl with muesli, Kazuha shuffles to her room with Hana-chan in tow. Sakura catches a glimpse of her red-rimmed eyes before the door to her room closes with a click. Though quiet, the sound painfully reverberates inside Sakura’s chest. And although she doesn’t want to admit, the answer to her question seems to be an obvious no.

Maybe we just need time? She ponders over a bowl of soggy muesli.

They certainly can’t pretend that nothing has ever happened between them, but however selfish it may sound, she doesn’t want to lose Kazuha’s presence entirely from her life. Yet she also knows that’s not her decision to make. It’s up to Kazuha to decide whether she’ll be able to forgive her for choosing her career over their relationship.

🌸🍃

She doesn’t expect Kazuha to join her when she leaves for the training, but she does. Just as Sakura puts on her boots, Kazuha walks out of her room and joins her in the corridor. She still avoids Sakura’s gaze, but Sakura can sense the unspoken agreement that they’ll commute together.

Not a word passes between them on their way to the stadium. However, once they enter the locker room, Kazuha’s demeanor shifts to her usual cheerful and friendly self, complete with soft smiles and light-hearted jokes.

Sakura feels like she has entered an alternate dimension, one where the events of the past week, or rather, the past month, never took place. Their playful banter, the desire-laced stares, and their flirtatious remarks exchanged in hushed voices—all that is now gone.

It’s confusing and frustrating. She doesn’t quite know how to settle again into that old dynamic of theirs, acting as teammates and not particularly close friends, but friends nonetheless.

She isn’t sure whether she should be smiling back. How big should those smiles be? Do they come off as genuine? Is it okay to laugh at Kazuha’s jokes and chime in with her own quips? After she scores a goal, will it still be okay if she hugs her?

She feels like she’s walking on a tightrope high in the air, with Kazuha’s every smile and gesture being the gusts of wind threatening her fall. The ease with which Kazuha acts as if everything is fine both irritates and saddens her. Still, she manages to suppress these emotions and focuses on training.

It’s only when they stand in front of each other, about to begin the scrimmage, that Sakura sees all the heartbreak sealed off behind Kazuha’s glassy eyes. If Sakura’s gaze lingers on her for a little longer than necessary, wordlessly poking and prodding, she’s certain all of it is going to just spill forth in a flood of unrestrained tears.

Finally, it hits her what Kazuha is trying to do here. In the end, no one knew they were dating, so why should anyone know that they broke up? If they suddenly start acting differently around each other, questions, rumors, and suspicious glances will follow.

This realization makes Sakura hate herself even more. Not only has she broken Kazuha’s heart, but she has essentially forced her into hiding her pain.

Looking down at the ball between them, she passes it to Kazuha. As they drift apart, she hopes the distance will alleviate at least some of Kazuha’s heartache. Even if it doesn’t help her, in fact, it makes the dull, throbbing pain inside her chest even worse.

Each time they score, they give each other high-fives with stilted grins and get back to their half of the field without looking at each other.

Once the training is over and they leave the stadium, they’re back to acting like strangers. Silence hangs between them like a thick curtain, and Kazuha’s smile from earlier morphs into a pensive frown.

Sakura wonders if she’s reevaluating her life choices, questioning why she ever liked Sakura in the first place. She wouldn’t blame her for thinking that way.

🌸🍃

This pattern of them navigating between the two realities of acting as strangers at home and pretending that nothing has changed in front of their teammates continues all throughout the training week.

But each day is harder than the previous one, the bags under their red, tired eyes more visible, and their chemistry on the field all but fizzled out. During the scrimmages, they score fewer goals than they used to, and Kazuha no longer does her silly celebrations.

Yunjin and Chaewon seem to notice that something is off. Sakura can tell from the fleeting glances thrown their way, but neither of them says anything. They probably can’t pinpoint exactly what is wrong since, even though her interactions with Kazuha may seem a little forced and less enthusiastic, they still talk to each other.

One day, however, Chaewon approaches her during the training. With her arms crossed over her chest, she looks Sakura in the eyes like she’s trying to read some hidden message from them.

“What?” A nervous chuckle escapes Sakura’s lips as she shrinks away under her friend’s piercing gaze.

Chaewon sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I was hoping you could tell me yourself.”

“Tell you what?” Sakura asks, playing dumb.

Chaewon shakes her head in disappointment as if trying to say ‘you know what’, but Sakura only purses her lips and says nothing. Partly because she doesn’t even know what to say, but also because nothing Chaewon will tell her could make this situation any better.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes,” Chaewon mutters tiredly.

With that, their awkward, noncommittal conversation comes to an end, and Chaewon makes no other attempts to find out what’s going on.

By the end of the training week, Sakura begins to wonder just how much longer they can go on like this. Until Kazuha decides to move out? Transfer to another team? Or both? Even though she hasn’t mentioned any of those options yet, Sakura knows those are the only endings that await them.

Each night as she lays down on her bed, her thoughts unwittingly drift to that part, to the farewells and closures. Then her throat tightens, and she has to fight back her tears.

But it’s always a futile battle.

🌸🍃

The last match of the half-season is an away game with the current fourth place holders, the Kashima Antlers. If their own team manages to win today, they’ll be on a historic victory streak, but somehow that doesn’t excite Sakura as much as it should.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her locker and turns around, surprised to see Kazuha approach her.

Wordlessly, the girl lifts her hand for a fist bump. Sakura knows Kazuha does it only to keep up the pretenses but still, her lips twitch in a half smile as their knuckles softly connect

“Let’s end this on a win,” Kazuha says resolutely, grabbing Sakura’s fist with her other hand while looking deep into her eyes.

This…

She doesn’t mean this half-season or this match, and briefly Sakura wonders whether today’s game may be their last one together. This probably means their run as teammates, because whatever was between them has already ended in defeat.

“Let’s do it,” Sakura says, but instead of focusing on the victory, all she can think about is how much she misses Kazuha’s touch and the warmth of her palms.

🌸🍃

They win the match with an almost symbolic score—2:0—one goal for Sakura, one for Kazuha. There’s no finesse to their gameplay. No excitement. Just clinical, cold precision, and quick high-fives for celebrations.

But a win is a win, and no one really cares that the score is so humble. No one notices that anything is amiss when it’s the first time their team doesn’t lose a single game in the first half of the season.

Such a historic achievement calls for a celebration, and the whole team decides to go to a pub for drinks. Sakura, however, opts to go home under the pretense of not feeling too well. As she tells this to her teammates, something flickers across Kazuha’s features, some momentary hesitation, but she doesn’t say anything and stays with the team.

On her way back home, she considers buying a bottle of wine just to numb that persistent ache in her chest, but then she’s reminded of her dad and shudders in revulsion at the idea.

In the end, she just goes to bed, wishing again that when she wakes up, Kazuha will be next to her, and all of this will turn out to be nothing more than a bad dream.

🌸🍃

When she wakes up the next day, she can’t really tell how much she slept. She heard Kazuha come back late at night and hoped she would hear the door to her room open, but nothing like that happened. And why would it? They are over, after all.

The spot next to her remains cold and empty, and that’s how she feels right now, too.

Mustering all of her willpower, she leaves her bed and goes to take a quick shower. Then she shuffles to the kitchen, noticing Kazuha as she walks out of her room. Their eyes meet, and they both stop in surprise, as if neither anticipated encountering the other.

“Morning,” Kazuha says, and Sakura nearly jumps, startled by her voice.

“M-morning,” she mumbles in reply, while Kazuha takes quick, long strides towards the fridge and opens it to grab a jar of jam. Sakura observes her, wringing her fingers, before she swallows her nerves and asks, “How was yesterday?”

“Fun. We had drinks and went for karaoke,” Kazuha answers, her back facing Sakura as she prepares her croissant on the kitchen counter.

A moment of silence passes, and Sakura wonders what to do next. She came here to eat breakfast, but she doesn’t even know what she wants to eat, and she’s not really that hungry.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Kazuha’s oddly emotionless voice brings her back from her thoughts.

“Y-yeah, sure,” she agrees without a moment of hesitation.

Kazuha turns around, the corner of her lips smudged with strawberry jam. Sakura doesn’t point it out; she just imagines herself wiping it with a kiss the way she would have done it not so long ago.

“I’m going to Osaka for the Christmas Break. Is it okay if Hana-chan stays with you because–”

“Your dad is allergic to cats,” Sakura finishes for her, smiling. “I’ll take care of her, no worries. I’ll be staying here anyway.”

Kazuha’s cool composure cracks as concern washes over her features, but then she lowers her gaze and hastily goes to put the jam back into the fridge. “Thank you,” she says, glancing at her. “I’ll go. I need to pack.”

“Sure.” Sakura nods, and after Kazuha disappears into her room, she grabs a spoon from a drawer and the strawberry jam from the fridge.

🌸🍃

Kazuha leaves at noon. Without a farewell, although Sakura could have sworn, she was standing in front of the door to her room before she left.

Somehow, the fact that she couldn’t say goodbye feels comforting. Sakura suspects, though, that it’s her naivety giving her hope that their relationship isn’t completely over and that they may remain friends.

She’s not sure why she keeps hoping for it anyway. Her dad would hate her for it.

Trying to distract her mind from these useless thoughts, she picks up the Switch and lays down on her bed. But as she’s staring at Zelda’s loading screen, she reminds herself of how Kazuha would always cheer her on during the boss fights. With a frustrated groan, she slams her head against the mattress.

She leaves the bed and takes the console back to the docking station in the living room when, all of a sudden, a faint scratching noise reaches her. Looking around, she sees Hana-chan demanding entrance to Kazuha’s room.

“She’s not there, tiny one,” she says, but the cat ignores her, meowing resentfully. “See it for yourself then.” She opens the door, and Hana-chan immediately hops onto Kazuha’s bed, kneading the bedsheets while purring.

Sakura chuckles and goes to sit down on the bed beside her. The cat curls up into a croissant, her resolute eyes staring at Sakura as she lets out the tiniest meow.

“Yeah, I miss her too,” Sakura says, scratching the cat behind her ear.

Kazuha’s poster of her is no longer hanging on the wall, which shouldn’t surprise her. After everything she told Kazuha, why would the girl even want to keep it? Still, it hurts, her heartstrings unraveling like the red thread connecting them, which inevitably will soon snap.

Little by little, Kazuha is letting go of her.

She should be doing the same, but instead, she lays down and lets the jasmine scent envelop her as she drifts off to sleep, dreaming of Kazuha holding her in her arms and telling her that everything is going to be alright.

🌸🍃

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when a knock—scratch that—a violent, hinge-rattling pounding on the entrance door startles her out of her nap.

As she jumps off Kazuha’s bed, she thinks that any minute now, she’s going to hear a gruff voice shout, ‘police, open up!’. She’s not sure what kind of crime she committed, though. The last time she checked, breaking someone’s heart wasn’t forbidden by law. Yet maybe, in Kazuha’s case, it should be.

But while she approaches the door with Hana-chan in tow, the pounding stops, and she hears two familiar voices.

“Maybe she went out somewhere?”

“Then she could at least pick up her damn phone!”

“Has Kazuha replied back with anything?”

“No. Not yet.”

“What are you guys doing here?” Sakura opens the door, revealing frazzled-looking Yunjin and Chaewon in their puffy winter jackets.

Hana-chan startled by the sight, flinches away and runs back to Kazuha’s room.

“Kkura! Finally! I was about to file a missing person report,” Yunjin announces dramatically as she lets herself inside.

Sakura rolls her eyes, but Yunjin ignores her, looking around the apartment after she sheds her jacket and takes off her Timberlands. “Is Zuha hiding somewhere here as well?” she asks from the kitchen.

“She left,” Sakura mutters as she shuffles into the living room and plops down on the couch. “To visit her parents in Osaka.”

“Shit,” Yunjin says, walking into the room with hands on her hips. “So we’re too late with this intervention, huh?”

Running her hand across her forehead, Sakura looks at Chaewon, who joins her on the couch. “What is she talking about?”

Her friend stares back at her somewhat pitifully before she asks, “Sakura, have you and Kazuha broken up recently, perhaps?”

Clenching her teeth, Sakura averts her gaze to the floor. “Kazuha told you?”

Chaewon sighs, but it’s Yunjin who answers, “No, she didn’t have to, Saachan.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sakura snaps, and the blonde’s playful smile vanishes in an instant.

She falls silent, looking apologetic, and Chaewon continues instead. “So there was something between you, but it ended, correct?”

Sakura scoffs. “And you two what? Came here to interrogate me about it like some bad cop, good cop duo?”

“Kkura, we came to help,” Yunjin says with uncommon quietness. “Yesterday, Zuha acted as though someone had died. She didn’t smile once during the whole outing.”

She takes a seat next to Sakura and places her hand on her shoulder, but Sakura shrugs her off. “Well, you can’t. It’s too late now. We’re over. Besides, there was nothing you could do to stop it anyway.”

“Why?” Chaewon asks cautiously.

Sakura gives a weak shrug. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Bullshit,” Yunjin protests. “Have you seen how you two play together? The chemistry between you two? It’s like this game was created so that you two could meet and play it.”

Sakura laughs at that, her eyes swimming with unshed tears at the reminder of how she and Kazuha first met and how what should have been an insignificant moment forgotten with the passage of time turned out to be some disastrous butterfly effect.

“Why are you laughing?” Chaewon frowns, looking a little disturbed.

Sakura wipes her tears. “Remember the story Kazuha told us of how she discovered soccer when she was three? How a girl gave her that blue Nike ball?”

“Holy shit!” Yunjin jumps to her feet and points her finger at Sakura. “It was you, wasn’t it? I fucking knew you two were soulmates.”

“More like star-crossed lovers,” Sakura scoffs.

Yunjin’s enthusiasm deflates. “What do you mean?”

“I have to get into the national team, Yunjin,” Sakura says, her frustration clear in her voice. “I have to win the World Cup. It’s the only thing that matters, and I can’t do it when I’m with her.” She pauses, glancing to the side, before continuing, “Coach Ikeda has zero tolerance for relationships within the team.”

“What? That’s some discriminatory bullshit. Can he even do this?” Yunjin’s response comes as no surprise.

Sakura can easily imagine Yunjin standing up to the coach. But she also knows that doing so would ruin any chance she has of making the team.

“He can draft whomever he wants to,” Sakura says, hating how discouraged she sounds. How utterly defeated she feels. “He’s the coach, and as such, he has the last word about it.”

“So what? Now that you two broke up, he’ll draft you both?” Yunjin asks doubtfully.

But Sakura never expected her to understand. After all, she chose to play for a weaker team because of her girlfriend.

“I’m not sure he’ll trust having us both on the team any time soon,” Sakura says. “Besides, he seems hell-bent on playing just one striker. So I need to focus on becoming a better player than her. And that’s actually easier to achieve when she’s not around.”

“So you broke her heart over a stupid spot on the team? Why the hell is this so important to you anyway?”

Stupid…spot…on the team…

Sakura’s hands ball into fists as she jumps to her feet and lashes out, “Because maybe then my dad will stop looking at me like I’m the biggest disappointment of his life. Maybe my mom will start talking to me again once she sees that I had what it takes to become the champion. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll start talking to each other again. And maybe, finally, things will be like they used to be!”

Her voice reaches it’s final crescendo, and tears spill from her eyes. She throws her arms around Yunjin, hugging her as sobs wreck her body.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Let it all out,” Yunjin tells her, rubbing her back soothingly.

“I just want us to be the family we once were. Is that too much to ask? Why this has to be so hard? Why it has to hurt so damn much?”

She wraps her arms tighter around Yunjin’s waist, wishing these were Kazuha’s arms that hold her, wishing the scent of jasmine would envelop her now. But after what she’s done to her and what she told her, even just wishing for those things feels wrong.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Yunjin says once Sakura calms down a little.

Clinging to Yunjin’s side, she takes a seat on the couch, and Chaewon passes her a tissue to clean her face.

And then she tells them her story.

About her dad and his career, about how his injury led to his downfall, and about her parent’s divorce. How she stopped talking to her mom because she wanted her to quit soccer and how her dad kept pushing her to her limits.

However, she doesn’t tell them about Kazuha and their story. She doesn’t feel strong enough to do it just yet. Simply thinking about all those happy moments they shared together slices her heart with the sharpest imaginable pain.

Now all of that is lost.

“Sakura,” Chaewon says softly, and again, she’s reminded of those days she spent at the hospital.

Back then, Chaewon would also bring her back from her thoughts, calling out her name so gently, like she was afraid anything louder would break her.

“I know it’s not easy to hear this, but even if you win the World Cup, it won’t bring your parents together.”

“I don’t expect them to get married again,” Sakura whispers, fiddling with the cuffs of her hoodie. “But maybe they’ll at least reach out to each other. Maybe we could spend some time together, like a family.”

“Are you sure that this is what you want to fight for?” Yunjin asks her. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just let go of it and move on?”

Sakura shakes her head. “There’s one more thing. I made a promise to my dad that I’d win the World Cup trophy for him. It’s the only reason he still contacts me. He lost everything, you know? His whole career became overshadowed by his injury. And this might just be the only thing that keeps him going.”

She remembers the look he gave her when she mentioned mom. That man she once admired and who loved her mother is still somewhere there. She’s sure of it.

Silence follows her words, and a sense of finality settles in the air between them. But along with it comes a sense of relief. It’s like this huge burden has been finally lifted off her shoulders. Yunjin and Chaewon may still not fully understand her, but at least now they know everything. And they’re still here.

“Guys, I’m starving.” Yunjin is the first to break the lingering silence. “I’m gonna run to the store and buy us some food and snacks. And then maybe we could play some games or watch a movie? What do you say, Kkura?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sakura says with a smile.

After Yunjin leaves, Hana-chan decides to show herself and jumps onto the couch before settling herself on Chaewon’s lap.

“So you really don’t want to fight for her? You’re just giving up?”

Sakura sighs. She should have known Chaewon wouldn’t let it go so easily.

“It’s a pointless fight when I know I can’t win,” she says, reaching to scratch Hana-chan behind her ear—an excuse not to look at her friend.

“You don’t love her?”

“I do,” Sakura admits under her breath. “But they’re my parents, Chae. My dad taught me everything I know about soccer. He was always my best friend. And I’ve been working so hard for that spot on the team. I’m sorry, I’m not like Yunjin.”

“Like Yunjin?”

Sakura glances at Chaewon, who gives her an odd look. “Well, she chose South Korea because of you, didn’t she?”

“Uhm, no, she didn’t? She chose it because…” Chaewon’s voice trails off, and she sighs. “I’m not the one to speak on this. Ask her yourself.”

“I’m sorry, I never told you,” Sakura says. “We wanted to tell you on the day the drafts were announced but then it all just…”

Chaewon shrugs. “You told me you’d tell me once you were ready. But don’t do this ever again, okay? And by this, I mean don’t shut yourself out and suffer in silence. Please?”

Sakura smiles and nods. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“You better.” Chaewon hits her gently on the arm before resting her head on her shoulder.

🌸🍃

Yunjin gets back from the store with a bag of chips, two pizzas, a couple of beers, and a tube of chocolate ice cream, which according to her is the best remedy for a broken heart, even in winter.

They put the first pizza on the coffee table and sit down around it on the floor. As they begin to eat, Sakura asks Yunjin about her decision to play for South Korea.

“I don’t exactly have good memories from my time playing in the USA,” Yunjin says before taking a bite out of her pizza slice. Instantly, her eyes roll back, and she lets out a hum of delight. “This is so fucking good,” she mumbles with her mouth full.

Chaewon cringes at the sight.

Catching that, Yunjin scrunches her nose teasingly but continues her story only after she swallows her food. “Like I said once, the competition there was ruthless, and the girls I played with—well, let’s just say, they weren’t the nicest bunch. I don’t have the best memories from my time playing there, so I chose to play for Korea instead. Also, you gotta remember that in the USA I’d be only a substitute.” She gives a shrug and fills up her cheeks with pizza again.

Sakura gives her friend an apologetic look as she finally understands why Yunjin would sometimes act so unsure of her skills. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Yunjin waves her off, taking a swig out of her beer bottle. “Don’t be. It’s not exactly something I like to talk about,” she assures. “I used to think I was a coward for running away. But then Wonnie helped me understand that I simply chose to prioritize my mental health, y’know?” She grabs Chaewon’s arm and leans her head on her shoulder.

Tilting her head, Chaewon gently bumps it into Yunjin’s while she’s busy munching on her pizza.

“I’m glad it all worked out for you in the end,” Sakura says, smiling at them.

“Yeah, me too.” Yunjin peers up at her girlfriend before snapping her gaze back to Sakura in a scowl. “I can’t believe Coach Ikeda has this stupid rule. It feels so unfair. Like, what do you mean you’re not drafting the best two strikers your country has to offer just because they happen to be boning each other?”

Hearing that last part, Sakura starts choking on her pizza and grabs her beer to wash it down. She forgot she wasn’t supposed to drink or eat when the blonde was speaking.

“Yun…” Chaewon smacks the back of Yunjin’s head lightly. “You okay, Sakura?”

“Ye-ah…” Sakura sputters, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true.” Yunjin lifts her arms in a gesture of surrender. “It’s a stupid fucking rule. I bet he’s just a raging homophobe. They should fire his ass.”

“I’m afraid it won’t happen anytime soon,” Sakura says. “He’s achieving good results with the team so far.”

“Well, still, fuck him and his stupid rules.” Yunjin clinks her bottle against Sakura’s and downs the rest of her beer.

After their comfort meal, Chaewon gets a bad case of food coma and takes a nap on the couch while Yunjin and Sakura play Mario Kart on mute.

“Has she ever talked to you about me?” Sakura blurts out, not taking her eyes off the TV screen.

Somehow she never asked Kazuha about it, but she was always curious about how much of what was between them Kazuha had shared with Yunjin.

“She did,” Yunjin admits. “Although she tried to make it sound like she wasn’t talking about you specifically. But if it wasn’t about you, then why wouldn’t she ask you about all that stuff, you know what I mean?”

“And what did she ask you?”

“How to tell the difference between admiring someone and falling for them. It was right after our trip to Seoul during our training. I told her that one doesn’t have to exclude the other; you can admire someone and fall for them all at the same time. She looked disappointed with that answer, though.”

Sakura looks away from the TV screen. Only now does she realize how much Kazuha must have struggled to figure out her feelings for her. She was probably also afraid Sakura would take her as an obsessed, creepy fan.

When will you stop centering your whole world around me?

The words she hurled at Kazuha ring out inside her head, and she thinks of all the pain the girl must have felt in that moment—to have all her insecurities thrown in her face by the person she loved.

I really am the worst.

Her Link character falls off track while Yunjin’s Shy Guy takes him over as she continues talking.

“So then she asked whether dreams could be an indicator. And I said it depended on the kind of dreams she had. You should have seen her then. Her entire face turned red, and she just mumbled, ‘Nevermind’, but you know me.” Yunjin gives her a knowing smile.

“You didn’t leave it at that, did you?” Sakura deadpans, and the blonde snickers.

“Yep. I asked, ‘Something spicy?’ and she gave the tiniest nod. So I told her that she, at the very least, must be attracted to that person.”

Sakura remembers that night in Seoul when she came back from her conversation with Chaewon and found Kazuha sitting in bed, all sweaty and flushed. She thought the girl was coming down with a cold, turns out she was coming down with something entirely different.

Something Sakura was coming down with herself.

“The next time I asked her about how things were going with her mysterious crush, she said she almost kissed her, but youu,” she drawls, nudging Sakura on the arm, “ran away, which confused her because she could have sworn you liked her, too.”

“I panicked,” Sakura admits in a small voice.

“Yeah, I figured this much. I told her that her crush probably just needed some time. After that, we’ve never talked about it again. Whenever I tried to bring up the topic, she would shut me out. So I stopped asking. Yesterday too, she refused to tell us what’s bothering her.”

An awkward silence falls between them. It’s as if Yunjin expects Sakura to follow up on that story, but again, she doesn’t know what to say. Maybe they should have told them sooner, though what difference would it make anyway? It wasn’t the secrets that broke them up, but forces beyond their control.

Or so Sakura wants to believe.

“Do you think she will accept the offer?” Yunjin suddenly speaks up after her Shy Guy falls out of track for the tenth time already.

Sakura pauses the game just as her Link is about to cross the finish line and gives Yunjin a questioning look. “What offer?”

Yunjin stares back at her before realization paints her features. “Fuck, she didn’t tell you, did she?” She runs her fingers through her hair as she grabs her phone from the coffee table and, after a moment of scrolling, gives it to Sakura. “Here. Read it for yourself.”

“F.C. Tokyo Star Sparks Loan Rumors Amid Interest from Three USA Clubs,” Sakura reads out the headline under her breath, then opens the article.

Rumors swirl around Nakamura Kazuha (19), F.C. Tokyo’s prized player, as speculation mounts over a potential loan move to the United States. With whispers of interest from not one but three American clubs, fans are left anticipating the outcome of negotiations.

However, many of F.C. Tokyo’s supporters express reluctance at the prospect of their star leaving. Particularly after her stellar performances in recent matches alongside her fellow teammate, Miyawaki Sakura (24)…

She hands the phone back to Yunjin and resumes the game.

“I expected something like that to happen. She’s young and talented; of course bigger teams will be interested in her,” she says calmly, although all she wants to do is scream and fling the controller across the room.

But she reigns it in and shoves these urges down the bottomless void inside her chest, hoping it’ll soon just swallow her whole, leaving her numb to the pain.

“She should accept it. She’ll learn a lot there.”

“She loves you, you know that, right?”

Staring vacantly at the celebrating Link, Sakura answers with a quiet ‘I know’.

Kazuha never said it, but she didn’t have to. The way she looked at Sakura told her everything she needed to know.

How many times did she wake up in the morning only to find Kazuha already awake and staring lovingly at her, like she couldn’t quite believe that Sakura was real, like she couldn’t get enough of her sight.

The sound of her phone vibrating on the coffee table pulls her out of her memories, and she wipes her suddenly wet cheek. She grabs the phone, and when she sees the number, she has to blink her eyes to make sure they aren’t playing tricks on her.

“Who is it? Is it Zuha?” Yunjin asks, but Sakura shakes her head and swipes to pick up the call.

“Hello? Sakura?“

Tears well up in Sakura’s eyes yet again.

When was the last time she heard this voice? 8 years ago? Still, she would always recognize it, no matter how much time had passed.

“Mom…“