Game Changer | Petalz Ðÿœ¸ÐÿƑ Chapter XXVII

“We’re here, Hana-chan.”

With a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and Hana-chan nestled in her carrier, Sakura stands on the porch of her mother’s house in Kagoshima. Anxiety twists her insides as she prepares to knock on the door, unsure of what awaits inside.

After her parents divorced, Sakura’s mom moved back to her hometown. Sakura has never been here. Although her mom often talked in the past about how one day she wanted Sakura to see this place, they never had time to come here due to her training schedules and tournaments.

And now she invited her over to spend Christmas together. Of course, Sakura agreed. She was just so happy to hear her mother’s voice after all those years. But since yesterday, that enthusiasm dimmed and fears started creeping in—what if they’ll just end up arguing again?

Hana-chan rattles impatiently in her carrier, rousing Sakura from her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she finally knocks on the door.

A moment later, a familiar face greets her, older, with gentle lines etched around her eyes yet still adorned with the same gentle smile Sakura remembers from her childhood.

She sees a reflection of herself in her mother’s aging features—a glimpse into her own future—staring back at her. It’s a realization that echoes the words she’s heard countless times before: She truly is her mother’s spitting image .

“Mom…” Sakura whispers, her voice catching in a flood of emotions as she gently places the carrier on the ground.

Her mother’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Welcome back, Sakura,” she exhales, as though she had been holding onto those words for years, and then she opens her arms wide.

Sakura beams through tears, embracing her mother tightly.

“Let’s get you inside. It’s freezing out here,” her mother says, leading the way into the warmth of home.

🌸🍃

Sitting on the floor cushion in the living room, Sakura stares at the photos standing on the dresser. On each one of them, she poses with either a trophy or a medal, and next to her, her dad is grinning proudly.

It’s quite a bizarre sight to see. The photos she thought her mom hated and expected her to hide in the basement or get rid of altogether are now proudly displayed for anyone who visits to see. It doesn’t make much sense to her.

“Mom, why did you want me to quit soccer?” she asks when her mom enters the room, carrying a tray with tea and some cake.

“Getting straight to the point, aren’t we?” Her mom smiles, setting the tray on the coffee table and sitting down across from Sakura.

Embarrassed, Sakura lowers her head. “I’m sorry,” she says.

They’ve just reunited, and she’s already digging up the past. But she can’t help it. All this time, she thought her mother hated her for not quitting soccer, and now that she sees these photos, it seems like that wasn’t the case.

“No, it’s alright, dear. I expected you to ask this,” the woman assures as she pours them the tea. “I was afraid it’d ruin you like it ruined your father. That you’d…” her voice trails off, unsure.

“Become like him,” Sakura finishes for her.

The pained smile her mother gives her is all the confirmation she needs. “But you’d made your decision to stay with him, and I didn’t want you to hate me more than you already did. So I let it go. In the end, I hoped that all the good I knew you had in you would prevail.”

I’m not sure it did , Sakura thinks to herself, remembering Kazuha’s tear-streaked face.

“Is this why you’ve never reached out to me? Because you thought I hated you?” she asks, cradling her cup with tea and soaking up its comforting warmth.

“That’s what you told me yourself. That you’d never quit soccer and that you hated me. That you never wanted to see me again,” her mom says softly, as if she’d already forgiven her, as if it no longer really mattered.

Sakura reaches further back into her memory. She remembers the frustration and anger she felt when her mother suggested she quit the sport, remembers shouting and crying, but somehow she can’t remember the exact words.

“If I did, then I don’t think I really meant it, but I felt betrayed in a way,” Sakura admits. “You wanted to take away from me the only thing that made me happy. The only thing that made me me .”

“I know, dear. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.” Her mother reaches across the table to take her hand and squeezes it tightly.

Sakura stares at her mother’s palm, at its veins and wrinkles. Have they really just wasted 8 years over some stupid misunderstanding caused by her teenage petulance?

“So why did you decide to contact me now?” she asks with a bit of resentment that she can’t help.

Her mom retracts her palm and wraps it around her cup in the same manner Sakura does.

She hesitates—Sakura can sense it from the way her gaze turns pensive—but eventually she says, “I often thought about calling you but always just assumed you wouldn’t pick up anyway. However, after seeing how sad and broken you looked in that last game, I just couldn’t ignore it. Something happened between you and that girl, Kazuha-san, right?”

Sakura’s brows knit in confusion. “How did you—?”

“I’m your mother, Sakura. I can tell those things. I’ve been watching your games and noticed how happy you were until just recently.” Her mother’s smile slips away, replaced by a frown of concern. “And now, looking at you, the dark circles under your eyes, your sunken cheeks…”

Sakura lowers her gaze as if that could help hide all these symptoms of her broken heart. She doesn’t know whether she should laugh or cry. Even her mom, whom she hasn’t seen in years and who has only watched her on the TV screen, even she had figured out that she had feelings for Kazuha.

And here she thought she could have kept it a secret. How naive of her.

“I—W-we broke up. It didn’t work out,” she mutters, still avoiding her mother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that. She seemed like a nice girl.”

“She is. She found Hana-chan and took her home.” She glances at the cat as she skulks around the room, getting used to the new surroundings.

“You live together?”

“A-h, yes, we do. Though, I suppose not for much longer,” her voice trails off solemnly.

She remembers the article Yunjin showed her. There still hasn’t been any confirmation, but she can’t imagine Kazuha refusing the offer.

She probably wants to get as far as possible from me , she thinks.

Sometimes she wishes she could get away from herself as well.

“I see,” her mother muses. “I’ll prepare the bed for you. It’s late, and you must be tired from the journey.”

Sakura nods and takes a bite of her cake, its sweetness offering a brief respite from the bitter sorrow brought on by her thoughts of Kazuha’s inevitable departure.

🌸🍃

As a doctor, Sakura’s mom rarely had time off during Christmas. Usually, Sakura would spend the day with her dad in front of TV re-watching his old games or out on the field training, depending on the weather.

But this year, her mom tells her how life in Kagoshima is much simpler and less hectic than in Tokyo, so she was able to have the entire Christmas break off. They spend every day together, going shopping for Christmas decorations they later set up at home, with Hana-chan trying to break everything they bought or shred it to pieces.

Sakura also buys presents for Chaewon and Yunjin, a matching set of winter hats and mittens. She’s sure Yunjin will love it, while Chaewon will most likely cringe, but then she will wear it every single day, not letting Yunjin leave without them as well.

Buying a present for her mother proves to be a bigger challenge. They haven’t been talking to each other for so long that she simply can’t tell what her mom would like to get or what she even needs nowadays.

However, she notices that she always wears a pair of golden teardrop-shaped earrings whenever she goes out. This gives Sakura the idea that jewelry might be a good gift. In one of the stores, she chooses a pair of golden earrings shaped like delicate feathers.

She also thinks about buying something for Kazuha but imagines the girl not wanting to accept any of her gifts, as it’d be weird now, probably. Yet at the same store, a silver necklace with a sakura pendant catches her attention, and she buys it.

Even if she doesn’t give it to Kazuha, she wants to have it. Maybe as a reminder that once there was a time when Kazuha would always wear it around her neck, because Sakura’s heart belonged to her.

And it still does. It just doesn’t matter anymore.

Regardless, she keeps the small box with the necklace in the pocket of her winter coat, often wrapping her palm around it just to make sure it’s still there.

Sometimes, when she accompanies her mother in her daily chores, she tells her about Kazuha—anecdotes from their life spent together that come to her triggered by whatever they’re currently doing. Stories of them cooking, going to the arcade, Kazuha’s one-sided conversations with Hana-chan, and her almost disturbingly large collection of cropped clothes.

It comes out naturally, without Sakura giving it much thought, and her mom listens to all of those stories with an adoring smile on her face. And sometimes, Sakura catches herself forgetting that now all of those moments are just a thing of the past.

On Christmas Eve, they bake cookies together, and it reminds Sakura of the message Kazuha sent her about baking cupcakes together. Before she knows it, her vision gets blurry, and tears start rolling down her cheeks.

Her mom hugs her, confused by the sudden outburst but asks no questions. She holds her close until Sakura calms down and when she does, she explains unprompted how it all ended and why.

Her mother listens with a sad, broken smile, as if she blames herself for it, and Sakura thinks that maybe she does. Yet she offers no advice or solutions.

But that’s okay.

The dreaded words Sakura was so afraid to hear again— You should just quit this sport —never leave her mother’s lips.

🌸🍃

Christmas passes, and the New Year’s celebrations are just around the corner. The temperatures drop below 10, and so they stay mostly at home, cozied up in blankets, sipping on hot chocolate and watching TV.

“I almost began losing hope that we could share moments like this again,” Sakura mutters, slouched in the armchair, her eyes passively fixed on the TV screen, playing some hospital drama.

She never knew her mom would enjoy these but apparently she finds them funny for how ridiculously inaccurate they are.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to reach out to you.” Her mom looks over at her from her spot on the couch.

“I could have done it too, you know?” Sakura says over the rim of her mug.

They exchange a sad look of understanding.

All this time, she thought her mom hated her and that only the World Cup trophy could somehow mend their broken bond, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. World Cup trophy or not, if her mom had never called her, they probably would never talk to each other again. Ironically, it was her heartbreak that helped them reunite.

Maybe it was always meant to be this way?

She’s certain Kazuha is surrounded right now by her parents’ love and care. They’ll help her fix her broken heart. And then she’ll leave for the States, meet a nice girl, and finally get that happy ending she deserves so much.

Sakura truly wishes that for her. And as for her happy ending…

Her gaze veers to the photos on the dresser. On one of them, her dad is standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders, as both of them grin at the camera.

“Mom, do you think…” she pauses, sinking further into the armchair while hugging her mug against her sternum. Her mom turns down the TV’s volume until its chatter mutes completely. “Do you think dad will come back to how he used to be once I win the World Cup? Do you think next year he could join us here?”

“Sakura, please tell me, what do you remember about your dad from your childhood?” her mom asks, words uttered carefully like she’s afraid they’ll trigger something unpleasant.

But Sakura only smiles. “He was my best friend. Always taking my side. He taught me everything I know about soccer, and sure, he was strict sometimes but that was because he wanted me to be the best, just like him.”

Her mother hums in agreement but then asks a question that catches Sakura off guard, “Do you remember the day Maru-chan escaped?”

Sakura tips her head to the side, searching through her memory. “I remember dad telling me you forgot to close the door, and that’s how Maru escaped.”

“That wasn’t what happened. Kentaro let him out. On purpose.”

“What?” Sakura straightens up, confused. “Why?”

“Maru-chan scratched his favorite armchair. He got angry and threw him out.”

Sakura frowns, trying to make sense of her mother’s words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He was your hero. You would have never believed me.” A wry sort of smile quirks her mother’s lips.

She then pats the spot on the couch next to her. Wrapped in her blanket, Sakura leaves her armchair and goes to sit beside her.

“What I’m trying to say is,” her mother says, maintaining that careful, steady cadence of her voice.

Sakura imagines this is the voice she uses when she has to break the worst kind of news to her patients.

“Your dad didn’t change the day he got injured. He has never been as good of a person as you made him out to be. He had quite a temper, but I protected you from that side of him as best as I could. After he had to retire from soccer, it only got worse.”

Sakura remembers those days her dad would come back home drunk, cursing, and slamming doors—was that only after losses to Frontale, or was she just telling that to herself? Has she been repressing all those bad memories?

She lived with him for three years, and all she remembers from that time are just endless trainings and time spent behind the closed doors of her room. Even though she often tried to reach out to him, he’d always just shut her out.

“When you chose to stay with him, I made him promise to me that he would treat you well,” her mother continues, “and I thought he did since you didn’t come back running to me. But hearing you ask this now, I’m not so sure.”

“You mean that–” Sakura swallows and despite being bundled up in a blanket, she suddenly feels cold.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think he will ever change,” her mother delivers her final diagnosis.

But Sakura can’t bring herself to accept it.

She can’t bring herself to let go of the hope for which she sacrificed so much. She broke Kazuha’s heart to keep the promise she made to her dad. She hurt the only person who showed her nothing but love and kindness and never asked for anything in return.

Even when Kazuha was injured, she came to cheer for her. Even when she couldn’t play the sport she loved so much, she was okay with it as long as she could cheer for Sakura.

I just want us to be the family we once were. Her own words come back to haunt her.

But they won’t be.

She has to stop deluding herself that they can ever return to being that happy family from her memories. That family no longer exists. And maybe it never existed to begin with. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, there were probably more bad days than good ones. Maybe even back then, she had already dreamed of them being that perfect family.

Now she knows that the only time she felt like she had it was when she spent her time with Kazuha. Yet she gave up on that, chasing after what turned out to be a mere fantasy.

“Sakura?” Her mother’s voice interrupts her spirling thoughts and she meets her apologetic, sad gaze. “I’m sorry. We weren’t the best parents. I only came to realize it years later. I feel like we taught you that our love and affection depend on your successes and failures. And it shouldn’t be this way.”

Sakura lets out a mirthless chuckle as she again thinks back to her hopes of bringing her family together by means of winning the World Cup. And then her thoughts return to Kazuha.

Kazuha, who never cared if Sakura was a winner or not.

But even though you lost, to me, it was your best game of the tournament.

Kazuha, who would cheer for her even when she couldn’t play soccer herself.

I won’t change. I promise. No matter what.

Kazuha, who just wanted to see her smile.

I just wish soccer would bring you as much joy and happiness as it used to when you were a kid.

Kazuha. Kazuha. Kazuha…

“I should have told her I love her,” she mutters faintly to herself. “I should have told her, but now it’s too late. She’s going to leave and—Fuck. I screwed up so bad, mom.”

Her mother smiles at her, wrapping her arms around her in a gentle hug. “Sakura, dear, it’s never too late to tell someone you love them,” she says softly.

And that’s the only piece of advice Sakura ever needed to hear.

🌸🍃

On New Year’s Eve, standing on the porch amidst the freezing cold, Sakura watches as colorful fireworks burst across the night sky, blossoming like flowers in the spring. As she squeezes the small box in her coat pocket, her wishes for the year ahead echo in her mind—ones of forgiveness and second chances.

🌸🍃

The day of her departure arrives.

Despite having a week before her training begins and three weeks until the season resumes, Sakura chooses to return home early. She hopes that perhaps Kazuha might return sooner too, providing an opportunity for them to talk.

Before she leaves, she and her mother have their last dinner together, and she gives her the earrings she bought.

“Thank you, dear. They’re beautiful,” her mother says with tears in her eyes and hugs her. “I have something for you as well. It’s not much but I hope you’ll like it.”

She leaves the kitchen and, after a moment, comes back with a white box.

“Go on, open it,” her mother prompts as she hands her the box.

Sakura gently places it on the table and lifts its lid. Inside, she finds a fluffy, blue scarf with a little white 9 stitched in the corner. Sakura’s heart swells in her chest at the sight. She comes up to her mother and throws her arms around her neck.

“Thank you. I love it,” she says, her voice shaky.

They shed some more tears, happy tears, and her mother assures her of visits and promises to attend at least one of her matches.

And so, with her bag slung over her shoulder and Hana-chan in her carrier, Sakura leaves her mother’s home, along with her hopes of reuniting their family and changing her father.

It’s not easy, as it still pains her to know that all her efforts were in vain, but at least she’s been able to repair her fractured bond with her mother.

And now she slowly starts to believe that there’s a lot of happy, good days ahead of them.

🌸🍃

Nakamura Kazuha Nears Move to Angel City F.C.

Sakura reads the headline on the newspaper held by the man who has just taken a seat next to her on the train. Her breath catches in her throat, but she tilts her head to the side to have a better view of the article underneath it.

Amidst fervent speculation, F.C. Tokyo’s standout player, Nakamura Kazuha (19) is on the verge of joining the Los Angeles-based club Angel City F.C. Negotiations are currently underway, with discussions centered on the finer points of the contract. While details remain undisclosed…

She doesn’t read any further; instead, her gaze veers to the train’s window, where her ghostlike reflection stares back at her. The passing scenery blurs into streaks of light, and soon her reflection blurs too, as tears well in her eyes.

Her mom’s words echo in her mind: It’s never too late to tell someone you love them.

But this time, it may just be.

🌸🍃

Entering the apartment, an unsettling sensation squeezes Sakura’s chest. Something doesn’t feel right. The air is heavy with an inexplicable…emptiness. Not in the sense that she has been robbed, but it’s just that the space around her seems so hollow and cold, like a dead body whose soul abandoned it.

The thought sends a chilling shiver down her spine.

She drops her bag in the corridor and lets Hana-chan out of her carrier. The cat immediately makes a beeline for Kazuha’s room, scratching at the door and asking to let her in.

No one answers her plea, and that’s how Sakura knows Kazuha isn’t home. She goes to open the door herself and when she does, she notices that inside, all of Kazuha’s stuff is gone. No posters adorn the walls, no photos stand on the nightstand, and even the bedsheets are missing.

It’s as though Kazuha had never been here in the first place, leaving Sakura with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She has already moved out.

A sound of rustling paper breaks through her bleak thoughts. She notices Hana-chan playing with a blue envelope on the mattress and quickly snatches it from her claws before she has a chance to shred it into ribbons.

With trembling fingers and her heart in her throat, Sakura opens the envelope, taking out a letter. She sits down at the edge of the bed and starts reading.

Dear Sakura,

I’ve been staring at this paper for what feels like hours, trying to find the right words to say goodbye. It’s crazy how hard it is to put feelings into words, isn’t it? But leaving without a word wouldn’t be fair, and so I decided to write this letter.

I’m sure you’ve already heard about the loan transfer. I’m sorry I kept it from you. They contacted me by the end of November. I’ve never told you about it since I never planned to accept the offer anyway.

Though now, when I think about it, I was probably just scared you would tell me to accept it. You would, wouldn’t you? I mean it with no malice. I know you always wanted what was best for me. And I know this is an amazing opportunity. But it’s also the first time when I have to imagine myself playing without you by my side, and I just feel so lost…

You were right when you told me that I didn’t know who I was without you. You’ve shaped my entire life’s trajectory ever since I was 3. And growing up, I felt like you were the only one who could truly understand me, for whom I wouldn’t be too weird or too much.

But sometimes, I wondered, do I really love soccer? Or do I just love the idea of having you as my soulmate? I mean even our names, ‘cheery blossom’ and ‘leaf’? Can you blame me for believing we were destined to meet? In the end, I think the answer to both of these questions is yes.

All I ever wanted was to play next to you, share my joy for soccer with you, win and lose next to you. But believe me when I say that I’ve never planned for this to happen—me falling in love with you. Yet I did.

I always admired your talent, passion, and dedication, but after we started living together, I became captivated by you as a person. By your heart and by all the subtle ways in which you expressed your care and affection for me.

And before I knew it, there were even more questions on my mind. Why does my stomach fill with butterflies every time I see your smile? Why do I want you to look at me the way Chaewon looks at Yunjin? Why do I want to kiss you so badly?

It was confusing and a little scary, because it was the first time I felt something so strongly. But the closer we became, the bigger my conviction grew that I wanted us to be something more than just friends. I wanted to be your everything. And when I was, I felt like the happiest girl in the world.

It wasn’t easy to let go of that. I was disappointed and angry. At Coach Ikeda, at your dad, at myself…at you. But soon I realized I was being unreasonable. I know how important your dad is to you, and I can’t expect you to give up on your dreams.

Maybe it just wasn’t the right time for us to meet?

Regardless, I want you to know that although what we had was brief, I’ll always think fondly of you and about all those sweet moments we shared. I’ll never forget your cute, disproving frowns caused by my crop tops and how you would silently observe me from afar, smiling to yourself, every time I played with Hana-chan. Or how you hugged me at night in your sleep, like you were afraid I’d drift away. Like I was your lifeline. Your anchor…

I’m sorry, this letter has gotten a little long. And I’m sorry for not being able to tell you all of this in person. I just know that if I looked into those big, pretty eyes of yours, all the words would just flee my mind.

Anyway, I wish you all the best, Saachan. I hope you will find your happiness, and I’m sorry it couldn’t be me. I promise, I’ll try to find a new dream to follow. And I hope that one day I’ll see you smile again, out there on the field, like you did the day we first met.

Forever yours,

Haachan

p.s. I’m sorry for leaving Hana-chan with you, but I know you will take good care of her, and of course you don’t have to keep the gift, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.

Teardrops start falling onto the paper, smudging the ink. From the bottom of the envelope, Sakura retrieves a delicate silver necklace with a leaf pendant, and a violent sob wrecks her body.

She collapses onto the bed, feeling as though she’s falling into that bottomless void inside her chest.

I’m sorry Haachan… I’m so…so… sorry…

🌸🍃

Sakura has no idea how she ended up here—back at the same lesbian bar where Kazuha had almost kissed her.

After crying her eyes out, she had to force herself to leave the apartment and go buy something to eat, as her fridge was empty. But now she questions her own intentions, as somehow her legs have led her further away from the store and eventually into the familiar narrow alley.

Before she entered the bar, she thought about calling Chaewon and Yunjin, but she reminded herself that they still might be in Seoul, visiting Yunjin’s grandparents, so she quickly discarded that idea. She didn’t want to ruin their holidays with her pathetic crying.

Then she briefly thought about calling her mother, but decided against it since she didn’t want to wake her up. Besides, she brought this misery on herself, so she has to deal with it on her own.

And so she does, choosing tequila as her immediate remedy. It’s stupid, and she knows she shouldn’t be doing this, but she can’t help it. Everything has just become too much to bear.

Slouched over the bar’s counter, she’s on her fifth shot. The pain of regret caused by Kazuha’s letter slowly starts subsiding, and she begins to understand why her dad would get drunk so often after his injury. With each shot, her vision blurs, and a pleasant numbness washes over her body.

Lost in a haze of alcohol and memories, she wonders fleetingly, if they had kissed that day in this very bar, would their story have taken a different turn? But she’s too intoxicated to pursue the thought further, and it slips away, leaving her with no clear answers.

She does think about kissing Kazuha, though. Kissing her soft, sweet, sweet lips. Endlessly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the bartender giving her weird looks. It’s probably because she’s grinning like a mad person, if the reflection in the mirrors behind the bar is any indication.

She schools her expression and orders another shot. As the fiery liquid burns its way down her throat, she feels her eyelids grow heavy, weighed down by the alcohol coursing through her veins.

In her head, one of the lines from Kazuha’s letter keeps repeating: I hope you will find your happiness, and I’m sorry it couldn’t be me.

Silly, silly girl. Always apologizing for things that aren’t your fault.

“I was the happiest when I was with you, dummy, ” she mumbles under her breath as she lies her head on the cool counter and closes her eyes.

Suddenly, she becomes aware of a distant female voice, the words muffled and indistinct. It’s as if she’s underwater, struggling to make sense of the sounds around her. Before she can comprehend what’s happening, a pair of strong arms lifts her from her seat. She wants to protest, but she’s too weak and just falls against the person sideways.

With a sigh, she succumbs to the darkness, letting herself be carried away into the oblivion of her drunken slumber.