Tzuyu's Turn

The sunlight was just beginning to bleed through the cracks in the curtains, a soft, grey light that promised a cloudy but calm morning. I woke slowly, my body heavy and aching in the best possible way. My arm was trapped beneath something warm and soft.

I blinked my eyes open. Chaeyoung was sprawled half-across my chest, her leg thrown over mine, her breath puffing rhythmically against my collarbone. She looked so young in her sleep, her features relaxed, devoid of the sharp, defiant edge she wore during the day. Her hair was a tangled mess, the short spikes sticking up in every direction.

I smiled, watching her for a moment. Last night had been a marathon—a chaotic, spicy, emotional marathon. She had pushed every button, broken every wall, and then let me hold her afterwards. It was the kind of intimacy that exhausted the soul just as much as the body.

I carefully extricated my arm, sliding it out from under her head with agonizing slowness. She murmured a protest, her hand flailing out to grab the pillow I’d vacated, but she didn't wake. I pulled the duvet up over her shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She smelled like cherry blossoms and stale fried chicken.

"Sleep well, Chaeng," I whispered.

I grabbed my robe and slipped out of the door.

The dorm was quiet. It was barely 8 AM, a rare time of stillness in the Twice household. Usually, at least one person would be up raiding the fridge or watching YouTube, but after the fansign and the Haidilao feast, everyone was clearly dead to the world.

I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and splashed cold water on my face to shake off the lingering drowsiness. I debated making coffee, but decided to head to the living room first to check the schedule for the day.

When I walked into the living area, I stopped in my tracks.

Tzuyu was sitting on the couch.

She wasn’t asleep. She was sitting upright, her back perfectly straight, scrolling through her phone. She looked fully awake, which was shocking considering Tzuyu was usually the hardest member to wake up in the mornings.

But what really caught me off guard was how she looked.

She was already dressed. Not in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, but in a carefully put-together outfit: a charcoal grey long-sleeved hooded top with stylish silver snap-button detailing along the neckline, paired with a sleek black wrap-style mini skirt that showed off her long legs. She had light makeup on—mascara, a touch of gloss, maybe a hint of blush. She looked ready for a photoshoot, not a lazy Tuesday morning in the dorm.

She looked up as I entered, her large eyes locking onto mine. She lowered her phone, her cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink.

"Good morning, Oppa," she said, her voice soft and melodic.

"Morning, Tzuyu," I said, tightening the sash of my robe. "You're up early. I didn't expect to see anyone vertical for at least another three hours."

She set her phone down on the coffee table and clasped her hands in her lap. "I... I woke up earlier and couldn't go back to sleep."

She looked down at her knees. "I kept thinking about today. It’s my turn. I just... I got restless waiting. So I got ready."

My heart softened. It was rare for Tzuyu to show initiative like this. She usually let the older members dictate the flow, but here she was, taking charge of her morning.

"I was going to come wake you up in a bit," she admitted, glancing at me shyly. "But I remembered that you and Chaeyoung-unnie had a... late night. So I came out here to wait."

I winced slightly. "You heard us?"

"I have ears," she teased, a small smile playing on her lips. "And the walls aren't that thick."

I laughed, scratching the back of my neck. "Right. Sorry about the noise."

"I didn't mind," she said quickly. Then she stood up, smoothing her skirt. "Since you're awake... would you like to go on a breakfast date? Outside?"

The offer surprised me. Usually, on days off, the members preferred to stay in and order food to avoid the public. But Tzuyu was looking at me with such hope, her fingers twisting together nervously.

"I would love to," I said sincerely. "Just let me go put on something that isn't a bathrobe. Give me twenty minutes?"

She nodded, beaming. "I'll wait."

I turned to head back to my room to grab clothes, but she called my name.

"John."

I stopped and turned back around. She had walked closer, closing the distance between us. She stopped just a foot away, looking up at me with those wide, dark eyes. Up close, I could see the meticulous effort she’d put into her eyeliner, the way her lips glistened.

"I forgot something," she whispered.

Before I could ask what, she stood on her tiptoes. Her hand came up to rest on my chest, right over my heart. She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine.

It was a light kiss, chaste and sweet. A mere brush of her lips against mine. But it sent a jolt through me anyway. It was the first time Tzuyu had initiated something like this without a prompt from the game or the group dynamic. It was purely her.

She pulled back, her face flushed a deeper red. "It's the tradition," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Girlfriend of the day starts with a kiss."

I stared at her, momentarily speechless. She looked devastatingly beautiful—the morning light catching the silver details on her top, the shy confidence in her posture, the softness of her mouth.

"Right," I managed to say, my voice a little rough. "Tradition."

"I'll wait for you in the entryway," she said, giving me a small, nervous wave before turning and walking away.

I stood there for a moment, listening to the soft click of her bedroom door. Then I shook myself into motion.

Ten minutes later, I walked out dressed in dark jeans and a comfortable sweater. Tzuyu was waiting by the front door, pulling on a black face mask and adjusting a pair of oversized sunglasses.

"Ready?" I asked.

She nodded, holding out her hand. "Let's go."

We left the dorm and stepped out into the city. It was a weekday, well past the rush hour, so the streets were relatively quiet. The air was crisp, a cool autumn breeze that rustled the dried leaves on the sidewalk.

We walked side by side, keeping a respectable distance, but the energy between us felt close. Tzuyu walked with her natural grace—long, purposeful strides, her posture perfect. Every now and then, I would catch her glancing at me from behind her sunglasses, a small, content smile curving her lips.

"So," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Where are we going?"

"There's a cafe near the Han River," she said. "It has a really nice view of the water. I go there sometimes when I want to think."

"Sounds perfect."

We fell into an easy rhythm. We talked about small things—the weather, the new song JYP had sent them to listen to, how funny Jihyo looked when she fell asleep in the van yesterday. It wasn't deep conversation, but it was comfortable. Tzuyu had a dry, witty sense of humor that she often hid behind her shyness, and I found myself laughing more than I expected.

The cafe was tucked away on a quiet side street, hidden from the main road. It was cozy, with warm wood interiors and the smell of roasted beans. We were lucky; there was a corner table free, tucked behind a large potted fern, offering us privacy from the other patrons.

We ordered coffee and pastries—croissants for me, a blueberry scone for her.

For the first hour, it was wonderful. The tension I’d been carrying about the schedule and the fansign seemed to melt away. Tzuyu relaxed, her shoulders dropping. She talked about how the river calmed her, how she sometimes felt overwhelmed by the noise of the city but the water made things feel simple again.