Routine

“Yo!”

You slam her down to the ground so hard the impact makes her go up into the air before you give her a kick to the back and she’s falling, reeling from the hits, desperately trying to steady herself because she knows that this is spiraling into something she can’t control, something that can make her lose.

And she absolutely despises losing.

But you don’t let her. Not when this is a chance at triumph. At claiming the crown that was rightfully yours. At winning.

So you jump, diving down, chasing her into the abyss to send a dropkick that connects to her stomach, the air in her lungs forcefully exhaled as she flies into the air once more, body out cold, acceptance on her face as she’s been beaten.

But you won’t leave it at that. You wanted, no, needed to be sure that you’ve won this fight because you’re petty like that, wanting to humiliate her, to set the tone for your next duel.

That’s why when you throw this insane left hook that hits her right in the face, absolutely rocking her shit, you feel the pressure in your chest gone, replaced by this intense joy that gets you to close your eyes and smile in bliss as one word rings out.

“Game!”

—

“And that,” You’re giving finger-guns in her direction. “Is a win for me.”

Sakura’s shaking her head, placing down her controller and giving you an exaggerated set of claps. “Good for you, just need to beat me-” She’s glancing down at your makeshift scoreboard, composed of chips stacked up on two plates. “-two more times to even it out.”

Ever since Chaewon re-debuted in Le Sserafim and introduced you to Sakura, who immediately found out that you also played video games on an unhealthy level– Probably a lot more than her–this has been the norm between you two, every Saturday, five on the dot, always in your apartment.

It was awkward at first, when she sent a text saying that she’ll be coming over to, and you quote: ”Beat your ass in this new fighting game.” That awkwardness became a lot more apparent when she did come over, knocking on your door, letting herself in, console in hand asking where the TV was.

You thought she’d be all talk, so you let her set it all up while you grabbed some drinks and snacks since you might as well be polite, and came back to her handing you a controller and telling you to choose your fighter.

She then proceeds to pick this weird looking wrestling lion and grab-combos you into the next round, forcing you to forgo any sort of discomfort between the two of you and just focus on winning.

Definitely wasn’t because your ego took a hit, no.

You spend the next few hours beating the shit out of each other with a Bruce Lee wannabe, an American monk, a robot that self-implodes, and a lot more ridiculous characters before you took a break to satiate human needs, like food.

And bulgogi? That’s the bomb.

It was after that where you two started to be more than mere acquaintances that met through a mutual friend, instead becoming trusted gaming buddies who meet up every week to sit back, attempt to relax when playing games with Sakura, and actually relax after.

It’s fun, a good way to de-stress after long weekdays of dance practices and programming, where you can tell her all about your dumbass boss that keeps piling on work mid-sprint, and where she can tell you how pissed she was when she woke up early for a photoshoot that was rescheduled last minute.

You didn’t notice things changing into something more intimate until Chaewon brought it up over a call once.

“So when is Unnie gonna move in?” Chaewon’s voice rings out of your phone as you’re busying yourself with the food you’ll be eating when Sakura inevitably comes by.

“She’s not.”

“It definitely feels like it.” She’s trying to instigate something with this, you’re pretty sure. “You bought a new closet almost exclusively to store the amount of clothes that she’s stacked up there.”

You stopped mid-swing of the knife, pausing, mind racing to think of an excuse because you don’t exactly have a defense for that one. Not when you bought it because your own closet was getting overrun with her clothes rather than yours.

And you didn’t even stop to think about whether you should or shouldn’t have bought that in the first place.

“So, is she moving in?”

“No, Chaewon.” Even you can hear the bullshit coming from your mouth. “She’s not.”

And when Sakura left to head back to her dorm that day was the day you finally stopped to notice all the things she’s left at your apartment, from the second closet full of her clothes, to the toothbrush and makeup that she leaves on your bathroom counter, and in the way she acts like she’s at home whenever she visits you.

It forced you to rethink all the times she’s slept over when your sessions drag on late in the night, when she takes up residency in your guest room or straight up snoozes on your couch, leaving you alone with the task of cleaning up the mess you made together.

It feels oddly domestic when she sleeps in while you make breakfast in the morning, giving her the leftovers as takeout when she has to leave and you’re left waiting till the next weekend.

The thought of having that be a daily occurrence wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, you just didn’t know what it meant for you and her now that you started to realize everythin-

“Hey!” Sakura’s smirking, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Last one got you tired already?”

“Not a chance.” You hit back, trying to hide the fact that you were thinking of her by hitting the ‘Choose Character’ option on the screen. “Still gotta even out the score.”

And she’s rolling her eyes as she laughs. “You seriously think you can catch up?”

“I think,” You’re confident, so sure of yourself, the high from last round’s win coming back in full force. “I can beat you -” A finger pointed. “-three times in a row.”

“Yeah?” She’s leaning in, so close you can feel her breath on your face. “Is that a bet?” The innocence in her smile didn’t feel real, and when she sees you hesitate, she bites her lip in a way that causes alarm bells to go off in your head, and that’s when you start to crumble.

“Yeah.” You’re stuttering, your composure gone, wrecked, left fumbling, so you decide to stare back at the screen to choose your fighter and avoid looking anywhere near her. “Set the rules Kkura.”

“Alright.” She’s pulling back, giggling, like she’s been waiting for this moment for so, so long. “Loser has to do anything the winner wants for the night.”

You freeze. Your head turns, Sakura’s eyes on you, full of mischief, those lips grinning, and you don’t know what the hell she’s saying-

“What?” Your mouth moves out of reflex, automatic, brain trying to catch up with what she said and she’s laughing again, finally deciding to face the screen to choose her character.

“What?” She repeats with a deeper voice, clearly mocking you, trying to get you riled up, to get you to lose control. “Too much of a pussy, nerd?”

You let out a scoff, forearms resting on your thighs as your chest leans forward and select some angry dude with daddy issues as your fighter. “Oh, it’s on now.”

You’re so focused on the game that you didn’t even notice that Sakura was giving you a look that spells trouble.

—

The match started off normal enough.

She hits you with a combo, you hit back with your own, you two trade lives till you each have one left; It feels like any regular fighting match you two have, always down to the last punch, the last block, the last mistake either one of you make before you start up another round.

And this time, you made that mistake by not blocking her grab, allowing her to set up her set of moves on your fighter. She’s jabbing, kicking, your health bar getting lower and you’re already mentally preparing to do what she wants until she drops the combo.

Wait. What?

You sneak a glance at Sakura, who’s still facing the TV, looking like she wasn’t bothered by what she did. But you know her, all those months of playing different games and you’ve never once seen her drop any sort of combo without a reaction.