Archive of Our Own

Sana had barely stepped off the plane and already felt wrung out. All she wanted was to slip into her car unnoticed, maybe have a second to breathe before facing the world again.

But Sana was never that lucky.

Cameras flashed before she even cleared the terminal doors. She didn't know how they always found out her schedule. She'd been careful—painfully careful. Apparently not careful enough.

She straightened her shoulders, pasted on her brightest smile, and gave a small wave.

"How was your trip?" one cameraman called.

"It was nice," Sana replied smoothly. "It's always good to visit home."

"Are you going to Nayeon's fundraising event today?"

"I'm heading there now," she said, and this time her smile softened, genuine at the thought of seeing her friend.

"Who was that girl you were spotted with in Osaka?"

Sana's eyes flickered toward the voice. She recognized him. Always hovering. Always digging where he didn't belong.

She ignored him.

"Are you happy to be back?"

"Of course," Sana said lightly. "There's nothing like sleeping in your own bed." She gestured toward the curb. "If you'll excuse me, my car's here. I hope you all have a good rest of your day."

She offered one last charming smile before slipping into the waiting car.

The door shut.

Silence.

The smile fell instantly. Sana let out a long, shaky sigh and sank into the seat, pressing her head back against the leather.

"Rough arrival?"

The voice came from the back seat.

Sana jolted upright, heart jumping into her throat. "Momo?"

"Hey." Momo grinned, sliding over into the seat beside her. "There was a rumor your flight was coming in today. Figured I'd pick you up myself."

"And yet," Sana said, arching a brow, "I don't see you behind the wheel."

Momo grimaced. "We both know that's for the best."

Sana laughed, the tension finally cracking. She shifted closer, curling into Momo's side without hesitation. "I'm so happy to see you. You have no idea."

"I'm happy you're back," Momo said softly. "We all are. You were gone a long time."

"I know." Sana's smile faded. "I just couldn't find anyone competent enough to run the Japan office."

There was a pause.

"Did you see your family?" Momo asked gently.

Sana's body stilled.

"No." She looked down at her hands. "They still want nothing to do with me."

The words were casual. Too casual.

"I don't need them anyway," she continued quickly. "I have you. I have everyone else. You're all the family I need."

Momo studied her. "You know you don't have to smile through it, right? You're allowed to be upset."

"I know." Sana exhaled slowly. "It's just... they were never really there to begin with. They shipped me off as soon as they could. I already went through the angry phase. I spent years being furious." She swallowed. "I'm just tired now."

Her voice softened.

"You guys were there for everything. My first crush. My first girlfriend. My first heartbreak. When I came out. You were the ones who held me together after." She let out a humorless laugh. "Not them. So honestly? I don't give a fuck about them anymore."

Momo didn't flinch at the anger in her voice. She only reached for Sana's hand.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I just never want you to feel like you can't come to us. About anything. Sometimes I worry you're holding more in than you admit."

Sana hesitated.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm too much of an open book."

"Sometimes," Momo agreed. "And sometimes I feel like I can't read you at all."

That made Sana go quiet.

She curled further into Momo's side, eyes drifting to the window. Momo wasn't wrong. There were things Sana didn't know how to explain—how she could feel both detached and deeply hurt at the same time. She'd never been close to her parents, but they were still her parents. They were supposed to love her without conditions.

It wasn't anger anymore.

It was something heavier. Something tangled and impossible to name.

As the car pulled into the baseball field parking lot, Momo cleared her throat.

"I still don't understand why Nayeon chose to host a baseball game."

Sana shrugged. "Probably Jihyo's idea. And trust me, I get it. Not exactly my idea of fun either."

"I just keep reminding myself it's for a good cause."

"I'll be doing the same," Sana said with a small laugh.

"Oh—and Nayeon doesn't know you're coming," Momo added. "She's been running around making sure everything's perfect. Hasn't checked her phone all day."

"That tracks."

"And the irony," Momo continued, "is she's constantly telling Tzuyu to stop worrying because everything she does is perfect. Meanwhile she's micromanaging the poor girl to death." She rolled her eyes as the car came to a stop. "Actually, I should check on Tzuyu before she commits a felony."

Momo hopped out before Sana could respond.

Sana watched her go, shaking her head fondly. Then she stepped out into the warm afternoon air.

With a steadying breath, she slipped her public smile back into place and started scanning the field for familiar faces.

"Sana?"

The voice came from behind her.

Sana turned, and her face lit up. "Dahyun." She pulled her into a tight hug. "I missed you. How are you?"

"I'm good. How are you? Did you just land?" Dahyun asked, leaning back to look at her properly.

"Yeah. Just landed." Sana smiled. "I would've stopped home first, but I was too excited to see everyone."

Dahyun's brows immediately furrowed. "Does that mean you haven't eaten?"

Sana gave a sheepish shrug. "Not yet."

"There's food over there." Dahyun pointed toward one of the tents. "Go. Please. I have to get this to Tzuyu—she always forgets to eat." She held up the plate in her hands. "We'll catch up later, okay?"

"Do you know where the others are?" Sana called after her.

"Nayeon's running around somewhere. I think Mina, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo are at one of the picnic tables. Chae's with Tzuyu!"

And then Dahyun was gone, weaving through the crowd.

Sana blinked. There was that name again. Tzuyu.

She shook it off and headed toward the sound of familiar laughter. It didn't take long to find them—Jihyo's laugh carried over everything.

"Guess who's back?" Sana called out dramatically.

Jihyo shot to her feet. "Oh my god—Sana!" She wrapped her in a crushing hug.

Jeongyeon grinned. "How was the flight?"

Mina stood and hugged her more gently. "We missed you."

"My flight was good. Uneventful, thankfully." Sana smiled warmly at them. "And I missed you too. Phone calls just aren't the same."

"It was weird not being attacked every five minutes," Jeongyeon teased.

Sana gasped. "We both know you missed my hugs."

"You can't prove that."

Sana didn't respond—she just stepped forward and hugged her anyway. Jeongyeon tried to resist for approximately half a second before melting into it.

"How are you guys? Did I miss anything major?" Sana asked as they settled back down.

"We're good," Mina replied. "You didn't miss much."

Mina's phone suddenly rang.

She glanced at the screen and answered. "Hey. What's up? ... Mhm. Okay. And she ate? Good. Yeah, I can bring water. Anything else? ... Okay. I'll see you in a few minutes."

She hung up.

"That was Chae. Dahyun forgot to grab water earlier. She asked me to bring some."

"And she can't get it herself?" Sana asked, confused.

"They're with Tzuyu, aren't they?" Jihyo said knowingly.

Mina nodded.

"She ate, right?" Jeongyeon asked immediately, concern flashing across her face.

"Yeah. Dahyun brought food."

Jeongyeon visibly relaxed. "Good."

"I worry about her," Jihyo admitted.

"I know." Mina gave them a soft look. "I'll go bring the water."

"We'll come with you," Jeongyeon said, already standing.

"And make her feel ambushed?" Mina raised an eyebrow. "That worked so well last time."

Jeongyeon winced. "Right. We'll stay here."

"Don't worry," Mina added gently. "I've got her. She's more receptive when it's coming from me."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Jeongyeon rushed to explain.

"I know," Mina said, smiling. "You just worry. Which is exactly why it can't be you. She hates feeling like people are taking care of her. It makes her feel guilty."

"I just wish she'd let us," Jeongyeon muttered.

"She's gotten better," Jihyo pointed out. "A year ago she never would've sat down with Chae and Dahyun like this."

"That's true," Jeongyeon admitted reluctantly.

"We've got her," Mina promised before heading toward the tents.

Sana watched the entire exchange in silence.

Who is this Tzuyu? And why does everyone seem to be orbiting around her?

"Mina understands how to get through to her better than any of us," Jihyo said softly, mostly to Jeongyeon, who was still staring after Mina.

"I know." Jeongyeon sighed, then looked at Sana. "We should head over. Game's starting soon."

"Hey, Sana," Jihyo added, "Nayeon's somewhere on the field if you want to find her. She'll be really happy to see you."

"Yeah," Sana said with a small nod.

She watched them walk away, a faint crease forming between her brows.

Two years away.

She thought there'd be more... excitement. More chaos. More attention.

Instead, everyone seemed distracted.

By Tzuyu.

Sana pushed the thought aside and went looking for Nayeon.

She found her near the dugout, phone pressed to her ear, pacing furiously.

"What do you mean you're not going to make it?" Nayeon snapped. "You were supposed to be here hours ago. You should've planned for traffic— I don't care. Don't even bother coming."

She ended the call with a frustrated huff—then immediately brightened when she noticed Sana.

"Oh my god, Sana—hi! I'm so happy you're here." She gave her a quick, tight hug before pulling away just as fast. "I'm so sorry, this is just—today is insane."

"It's okay," Sana said, though the hug had already ended.

"Can I ask you a huge favor?" Nayeon said quickly. "Can you pitch? My pitcher's stuck in traffic."

Sana opened her mouth—

But Nayeon's phone was already back to her ear.

"Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you. You're a lifesaver, Tzu."

Sana froze.

Tzu.

"Okay," Nayeon said breathlessly, hanging up. "Unless you want to run around with me, I really can't talk right now. I have to check on the sponsors, and the raffle table, and the—everything."

"I'll just join you," Sana said with a shrug.

But as she followed Nayeon across the field, her smile felt tighter than before.

Tzu. Tzuyu. Who is she?

About an hour later, when things had finally calmed down, Sana crossed her arms and looked at Nayeon.

"Okay. I need to ask. Who is Tzuyu?"

Nayeon blinked. "She helped plan this whole thing."

"That doesn't explain why everyone looks like they'd jump in front of a car for her," Sana replied, brows furrowed. "Momo mentioned something about worrying she'd kill you. Mina had to deliver water like it was a classified mission. I'm just trying to figure out who she is to everyone."

Nayeon opened her mouth—

"Nayeon!"

Chaeyoung came running toward them, slightly out of breath.

"What?" Nayeon asked immediately, already tense.

"Jihyo's hurt."

"I told her not to play," Nayeon snapped, already taking off toward the field.

Sana and Chaeyoung hurried after her.

By the time they reached the field, a small crowd had gathered. Nayeon was already kneeling beside Jihyo.

"Seriously, Hyo, I told you not to play," Nayeon scolded, though her hands were gentle as she checked her ankle. "You could've made it worse."

"I'm fine," Jihyo insisted, wincing slightly. "I promise."

"And seriously, Tzu," Nayeon said, looking up.

Sana followed her gaze.

A tall, breathtakingly beautiful Taiwanese woman stood nearby, looking vaguely guilty but mostly calm.

Guess that answers that, Sana thought. And of course she's gorgeous.

"You've met her," Tzuyu said simply, giving a small shrug.

Nayeon huffed. "Just help me."

Tzuyu moved immediately, stepping to Jihyo's other side. Together, she and Nayeon helped Jihyo off the field.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you," Nayeon muttered to Jihyo.

"Sorry," Jihyo said sheepishly.

Once Jihyo was settled on a bench with an ice pack pressed to her ankle, Tzuyu returned to the pitcher's mound without another word.

Sana noticed the baseball resting near her own feet. She picked it up, waiting until Tzuyu glanced in her direction.

Sana tossed it lightly.

Unfortunately, Tzuyu looked away a second too soon.

The ball hit her square in the stomach.

Tzuyu doubled slightly with a soft grunt.

Sana's stomach dropped. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," Tzuyu called back, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

She sounded a little out of breath, but she straightened up quickly and resumed her position like nothing had happened.

The game continued without further disaster. Nayeon stayed glued to Jihyo's side, fussing over her every few minutes. Jihyo protested, but she didn't really mind.

And Sana—

Sana spent most of the time watching Tzuyu.

The way she pitched. The way she avoided prolonged eye contact. The way she quietly handed her glove to a kid who asked to see it. The way she seemed both present and distant at the same time.

"Okay," Sana said eventually, unable to stop herself. "So who is she? You've all been talking about her like she's made of glass."

"Jihyo met her about two years ago," Nayeon said.

Jihyo shifted on the bench, adjusting the ice on her ankle. "She was new to town. Her Korean wasn't great yet. She came into the shop looking for work. I didn't need an assistant, but..." She paused, searching for the right words. "There was something about her. I couldn't just turn her away."

"She worked hard from day one," Nayeon added. "Harder than anyone."

Jihyo nodded. "I talked about her a lot. Nayeon met her a few times. After a couple months, Nayeon started noticing things."

"I followed her after work once," Nayeon admitted bluntly. "She was staying at a hotel. The cheap kind. I didn't confront her. I talked to Jihyo first."

"We didn't know her situation. Still don't," Jihyo said quietly. "But it was obvious she was used to handling everything alone."

"So we offered her the guest room," Nayeon finished. "She refused. Obviously."

"She hates feeling like a burden," Jihyo added. "But she was running out of money. Eventually she gave in."

Sana took all of that in slowly.

"So she still lives with you?"

"No," Jihyo shook her head. "About a year ago she found a better job as a party planner. It paid more. She moved out as soon as she could, even though we told her she didn't have to."

Sana's gaze drifted back to the field.

Tzuyu stood on the mound, tall and composed, sunlight catching along the sharp line of her jaw. She looked steady. Self-contained. Like nothing could rattle her.

"Why haven't you mentioned her before?" Sana asked, turning back to them.

Jihyo shrugged lightly. "We figured you wouldn't love the idea of us giving a stranger our guest room."

Nayeon gave her a look. "And we thought maybe we'd ease you into it. She was already overwhelmed meeting everyone else."

Sana's lips pressed together faintly at that.

"Don't be offended if she doesn't talk much," Nayeon added. "She's not rude. She's just painfully shy. It takes her time to warm up."

Sana nodded slowly.

Her eyes drifted back to Tzuyu.

Curiosity flickered through her chest.

This quiet, guarded girl who somehow had all of them wrapped around her finger without even trying.

When the game finally ended, Tzuyu insisted she could handle cleanup alone.

"You two should go home," she told Nayeon and Jihyo firmly. "Hyo needs to rest."

Nayeon hesitated. Jihyo argued. Tzuyu won.

Sana lingered nearby, pretending to scroll through her phone as she watched Tzuyu move from vendor to vendor, thanking them, settling payments, stacking folding chairs with quiet efficiency. She said her goodbyes in soft, polite tones, bowing slightly, smiling just enough.

Always composed.

Eventually the field emptied out. The noise faded. The sky deepened into gold.

Once Sana was sure no one else would interrupt, she walked over.

"Hey," she said lightly. "I'm sorry for hitting you earlier."

Tzuyu didn't look up right away, folding a tablecloth with precise movements. "It's okay."

"And I feel like I should apologize for Nayeon too."

That made Tzuyu glance at her briefly. "It's fine. I know she just gets protective about Jihyo. She didn't mean anything by it."

"Well... I still feel bad that I just stood there," Sana admitted.

Tzuyu paused this time, finally meeting her eyes properly. "It's okay," she repeated, a little softer. "I promise."

There was something steady in her gaze. Not cold. Just... careful.

"I'm Sana, by the way." She held out her hand.

"Tzuyu." She shook it, her grip firm but brief. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh?" Sana arched a brow. "All good things, I hope."

Tzuyu's mouth curved slightly. "Mostly about how much they missed you." A faint smirk appeared. "The rest... I guess I'll have to confirm myself."

Sana laughed. So she does have a personality.

"So what kind of events do you usually do?" Sana asked, leaning casually against one of the tables.

"A little of everything. Casual. Formal. Corporate. Private." Tzuyu continued packing up as she spoke. "If someone wants it, I can make it happen."

"Wow. Confident," Sana teased.

"Prepared," Tzuyu corrected smoothly.

Sana smiled. "Maybe I'll hire you for my wedding."

Tzuyu stilled.

It was subtle. Just the faintest hesitation before she resumed stacking chairs.

"Oh?" she said evenly. "You're getting married?"

Sana laughed. "No. I'm only twenty-five. I'm in no rush. But when I do, maybe I'll call you."

Tzuyu gave a small nod, like she was filing that information away.

"You did a great job today, by the way," Sana added. "Everything went perfectly."

"I'm pretty sure that was Nayeon," Tzuyu replied with a quiet smirk. "Though she said you were running around with her. Maybe I should thank you for doing my job."

"I don't usually do that," Sana admitted, her voice softening. "I just wanted to spend time with her."

Tzuyu looked up again, studying her more closely this time. There was something in Sana's tone—something faintly sad.

"She appreciated it," Tzuyu said. "She really missed you."

Sana smiled gently. "I'm just happy to be back."

A small pause settled between them.

"Actually," Sana continued, straightening, "I might have a job for you."

Tzuyu's attention sharpened immediately. "What kind?"

"One of my employees mentioned her son wants to go ice skating for his birthday. He's turning sixteen in three weeks. Completely obsessed with hockey. I may have promised I could make something special happen." She grinned sheepishly. "Think you can pull that off?"

"Yeah," Tzuyu said without hesitation. "I could arrange a private session. Maybe show him the Zamboni. Kids love that."

Sana's eyes lit up. "He would lose his mind over that."

"Should I coordinate with you or his mom?" Tzuyu asked, already pulling her phone from her back pocket.

"I'll handle it," Sana said. "She has enough on her plate."

"Okay. Give me your number."

They exchanged phones briefly.

"Thank you for doing this," Sana said. "I know it's last minute."

"It's fine," Tzuyu replied casually. "I've done tighter timelines."

Of course you have, Sana thought.

They finished the last of the cleanup together, working in companionable silence. Tzuyu efficient. Sana... slightly less so, but trying.

Finally, Tzuyu stepped back and scanned the field.

"That should be everything. Thanks for helping." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll text you about the party."

"You can always text me about other things too," Sana said lightly, a playful edge to her voice.

Tzuyu's expression didn't change.

"Well," she said evenly, "I'll see you around."

And just like that, she walked to her car.

Sana stood there, watching as Tzuyu drove off, taillights disappearing into the evening.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected.

Shy, yes.

Cold? Maybe a little.

But there had been moments—tiny cracks in the composure. The smirk. The pause at the wedding comment. The way her eyes sharpened when work was mentioned.

Tzuyu wasn't made of glass.

If anything, she felt more like steel.

The next morning, Sana's phone buzzed.

Unknown: Hey, is this Sana?
Unknown: It's Tzuyu. The girl from yesterday.

Sana smiled before she even realized she was doing it.

Sana: Yes, it is 😊
Tzuyu: Perfect. Did you want to meet in person or text about the details of the party?
Sana: In person would be perfect.
Tzuyu: Okay. I'll send the address to my office.
Sana: I'll see you soon!

Before getting ready, Sana opened another chat.

Sana: Hey, I'm having Tzuyu plan a party for me.
Sana: Would it be weird to bring her coffee or something?
Jihyo: No.
Jihyo: Idk if she'll take it though.
Nayeon: She loves bread.
Nayeon: Just like force it down her throat.
Jihyo: Don't do that.
Jihyo: She'll drink anything though.
Sana: Okay, this is all good to know.
Sana: Thanks!

Sana spent an embarrassing amount of time picking out the "right" coffee and pastry. Not too fancy. Not too casual. Something thoughtful, but not overbearing.

It shouldn't matter this much, she told herself.

Still, she double-checked the bag before heading to the address Tzuyu had sent.

The office building was modest but clean. Professional.

Sana stepped inside.

"Hi, I have a meeting with Tzuyu," she said brightly to the receptionist.

"Yes, she's right down the hall," the woman replied with a polite smile. "Just knock on her door."

"Thank you."

Sana made her way down the hallway and knocked.

The door opened almost immediately.

"Hey. Come in," Tzuyu said, stepping aside.

Even in a simple blouse and slacks, she looked unfairly composed.

Sana held up the bag. "I brought you coffee and a pastry as a thank you for taking this on so last minute."

Tzuyu blinked. "Oh. Um. Thank you." She took the items carefully, like she wasn't sure what to do with them.

"I hope you like them," Sana rushed. "I didn't really know what to get. Jihyo and Nayeon weren't very helpful."

A small smile tugged at Tzuyu's lips. "It's perfect. Thank you." She set the coffee on her desk almost reverently. "Should we get started?"

"Oh, yes." Sana slid into the chair across from her desk.

Tzuyu immediately shifted into work mode.

"I already called about renting the rink. They just need a date, time, and duration."

"Weekend afternoon," Sana said. "How long do parties usually run? I've never rented an ice rink before."

"Is there a budget we need to stay within?" Tzuyu asked, pen already moving across her notepad.

"No. I told her I'd cover everything."

Tzuyu nodded once. "Most parties last three to four hours. That gives enough time for skating and food."

"Then four," Sana decided.

"Okay. Food?"

"Pizza. Definitely pizza."

"Drinks?"

"Soda and water."

"Guest count?"

Sana counted on her fingers. "Friends, family, us... thirty-five? Maybe forty."

"Dessert?"

"Red velvet cupcakes."

Tzuyu's pen paused for half a second before continuing. "Theme?"

"Hockey themed," Sana said with a small laugh.

"Right. You mentioned he's obsessed." Tzuyu nodded. "Okay. That covers the basics." She looked up. "Any questions?"

"None that have to do with the party," Sana said lightly.

Tzuyu's eyebrow lifted in amusement. "Any that do?"

"Nope."

"Good." Tzuyu stood. "Then that's all I need from you."

Sana stood as well. "Thank you again for doing this."

"It is technically my job," Tzuyu replied, face calm—but there was the faintest hint of teasing in her tone.

Sana caught it immediately and grinned. "True."

Tzuyu walked her toward the front door. "We can meet a few hours before the event to make sure everything looks right."

"I'm looking forward to it," Sana said.

Tzuyu held the door open. "Drive safe."

Sana gave her a dramatic salute. "Aye, aye, captain."

Tzuyu blinked—then raised an eyebrow, clearly amused despite herself.

Sana walked to her car feeling oddly triumphant.

Tzuyu hadn't exactly warmed up.

But she hadn't shut her down either.

And when Sana glanced back before getting in her car, she swore she caught Tzuyu watching her leave.

A few weeks later, Sana's phone buzzed again.

Tzuyu: Hey, I have everything set up if you want to come look at it.
Sana: Okay, I'll see you soon.
Tzuyu: Okay.

Sana stared at her closet for far too long.

This was ridiculous.

It was a kid's birthday party. At an ice rink.

There was absolutely no reason to be debating between outfits like she was going on a date.

And yet.

She changed twice. Then three times. Finally settling on something that looked effortlessly put together—even if it had taken her nearly forty minutes.

She knew the girls were going to notice. They always noticed.

Taking one last look in the mirror, she grabbed her keys and headed out.

The ice rink was already buzzing softly when she arrived. The hum of the machines, the faint chill in the air, the sharp scent of ice.

Tzuyu was moving quickly across the rink floor, adjusting table placements, speaking to a staff member, checking something off on her clipboard.

Focused. In control.

"Hey, Tzuyu!" Sana called.

Tzuyu turned immediately. "Oh. Hey, Sana."

Her eyes flickered—just briefly—over Sana's outfit before she caught herself.

"Okay," Tzuyu began, slipping back into work mode. "I didn't overdo the decorations. I figured he wouldn't want anything too flashy. Just tables for food and space for everyone to hang out."

Sana looked around.

Blue and white accents. Subtle hockey details. Clean. Thoughtful.

"It's perfect," Sana said, genuinely impressed. "He's going to love this."

"I also set up a small surprise," Tzuyu added.

Sana's eyes lit up. "Oh? Can I know what it is?"

Tzuyu's lips curved slightly. "I think I'll keep you guessing."

"A girl of mystery," Sana teased.

"I like keeping people guessing," Tzuyu replied with a shrug.

Then Tzuyu really looked at her.

Her gaze lingered this time.

"You do know we're at an ice rink, right?" Tzuyu said slowly. "You're going to get cold."

Sana waved her off. "I'll be fine."

Tzuyu stared at her for half a second longer, clearly unconvinced.

"Wait here."

Before Sana could protest, Tzuyu disappeared into the locker room hallway.

Sana blinked after her.

A minute later, Tzuyu returned holding a jacket.

"Here."

She stepped closer and held it out.

Sana hesitated. "Are you sure? Won't you be cold?"

"Just take it," Tzuyu said simply.

And before Sana could argue again, Tzuyu gently draped it over her shoulders, adjusting it so it sat properly.

The proximity hit her all at once.

"Oh. Um. Thanks," Sana said, suddenly very aware of how close they were.

Tzuyu's hand lingered for half a second longer than necessary before she stepped back.

"You're already red," Tzuyu said, studying her face with a small frown. "See? The cold's hitting you."

Sana let out a slightly too-high laugh. "Yep. The cold."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The rink hummed around them. Cold air drifting between them.

Sana pulled the jacket tighter around herself.

Definitely the cold.

It didn't take long for guests to start trickling in. The quiet hum of the rink turned into laughter, the scrape of skates, the excited echo of teenagers claiming lockers.

"Sana, thank you so much for doing this," Mrs. Jones said, pulling her into a tight hug the second she spotted her.

Jake bounced beside her, already half in his skates. "Yeah, this is awesome. Thank you!"

Sana laughed. "You'll have to thank Tzuyu. She did all the hard work. I just paid for it."

Mrs. Jones immediately frowned. "No, no, I can't let you pay for all this."

"It's really okay," Sana said gently. "You've done so much for me. Let me do this. And I knew Jake would love it." She glanced at him. "Let me spoil him a little."

Mrs. Jones hesitated... then sighed. "Okay. Thank you."

Jake didn't hesitate at all. He threw his arms around Sana. "You're the best big sister ever."

Sana melted a little at that. "I just hope you and your friends have fun. Tzuyu also mentioned a surprise later," she added with a playful pout. "She wouldn't tell me what it is."

Jake's eyes widened. "A surprise?!"

Mrs. Jones laughed. "We should go thank her properly."

Before Sana could respond—

"Tzu did a really good job."

Sana turned to see Nayeon walking up behind her, hands tucked casually into her coat pockets.

"Yeah," Sana agreed, glancing around the rink. "I don't know how she pulled this off so fast."

"Especially since this rink is usually booked months in advance."

Sana blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. People are always complaining that the city needs another rink because this one's impossible to reserve." Nayeon tilted her head toward the ice. "But Tzu's kind of a miracle worker."

Sana's gaze drifted across the rink, landing on Tzuyu.

She was crouched near one of the tables, adjusting a centerpiece that had shifted. Then she stood, speaking briefly with the rink manager, nodding seriously. Calm. Efficient. Quietly commanding.

"Yeah," Sana murmured, almost to herself. "I guess she is."

"Well," Nayeon said, following her line of sight, "I should go check in on her."

She paused beside Sana, eyes flicking down. "Nice jacket, by the way."

Sana froze.

Nayeon's smirk widened just slightly before she walked off.

Heat rushed to Sana's face.

She tugged the jacket tighter around herself, suddenly very aware of who it belonged to.

Jake and his friends had settled into the party quickly, laughter echoing across the rink as they raced each other from wall to wall. Still, every few minutes, one of them somehow found their way back to Sana's side—offering her drinks, cracking jokes, trying their best to impress her.

"You've got a lot of admirers over here," Tzuyu said, appearing beside her with a raised brow.

Sana sighed dramatically. "I know. I hate breaking their little hearts. They're sweet boys."

Tzuyu hummed, watching another one of them wave at Sana from the ice. "I noticed you haven't been skating."

"Watching me, are we?" Sana teased.

"Um—no." Tzuyu's ears tinted pink. "It's my job to make sure everyone's taken care of."

"Right," Sana said, clearly unconvinced. "Well, I'm a little too clumsy for ice skates."

"And no one offered to hold your hand?" Tzuyu asked, tilting her head.

"They have," Sana admitted. "It's just... the right person hasn't."

Tzuyu's gaze sharpened slightly. "And who would be the right person?"

Sana shrugged, smiling. "I'll know her when I see her."

There was a brief pause.

"Did you want to skate," Tzuyu asked evenly, "or are you waiting for this someone to ask?"

Sana's smile widened. "No, I'll take you up on your offer. But I should warn you—I'm really, really clumsy."

"Noted," Tzuyu replied. "I think I can handle it. First step—getting you skates."

Tzuyu led her to the rental counter, grabbed a pair in Sana's size without hesitation, and guided her to a nearby bench.

Before Sana could protest, Tzuyu crouched in front of her.

She gently lifted Sana's foot, resting it against her knee as she slipped the skate on and began lacing it carefully—tight, secure, practiced.

Sana's breath caught.

"This isn't too tight, right?" Tzuyu asked, fingers working the laces.

"No," Sana said softly. "It feels good."

Tzuyu tied the second skate the same way, then stood and sat beside her to put on her own skates.

"Okay," she said. "Next step—getting you on the ice. It sounds scarier than it is."

She stood first and stepped onto the rink with easy confidence, then turned and held both hands out toward Sana.

"I—I'm scared," Sana admitted, hesitating at the edge.

Tzuyu's expression softened. "Don't worry. I won't let you hurt yourself. I've got you."

That did it.

Sana placed her hands in Tzuyu's.

Slowly, carefully, she stepped onto the ice—

—and immediately slipped.

Tzuyu caught her before she could fall, arms steady, pulling her upright.

"Okay," Tzuyu said calmly, though she was holding Sana a little closer than strictly necessary. "Let me know when you're ready to start moving."

"I think... I'm ready," Sana said, gripping her hands tighter.

"Bend your knees slightly," Tzuyu instructed. "Take small marching steps. Toes a little out. Then push with the middle of the blade."

Sana followed shakily.

"You're doing great," Tzuyu said, a hint of excitement slipping into her voice.

Sana instinctively looked down at her feet.

"Hey—look at me," Tzuyu said gently. "You're going to fall if you stare at your skates."

"Right." Sana nodded.

So she looked at Tzuyu instead.

Up close, she could see the faint crease between Tzuyu's brows when she concentrated. The way her grip adjusted instinctively whenever Sana wobbled. The quiet steadiness in her eyes.

It wasn't often Sana got to see her like this.

She got so lost in studying her that she didn't realize she was actually skating smoothly.

Until she realized she was staring.

Her foot caught awkwardly.

And suddenly she was falling—

straight into Tzuyu.

They hit the ice together in a tangle of limbs.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Sana scrambled to get up—only to slip again and land right back down. "I warned you I was clumsy!"

"You did," Tzuyu nodded seriously. "Are you hurt?"

"No! Are you?"

"I'm fine." A small smile tugged at her lips. "See? I told you I wouldn't let you hurt yourself. Besides, that's not the worst fall I've taken."

With some effort, Sana managed to stand—only to wobble dangerously again.

Tzuyu's hands immediately found her waist, steadying her.

Sana froze at the contact.

"You know," Tzuyu said lightly, "I always seem to get hurt around you."

Sana pouted. "It's never intentional."

"And yet," Tzuyu smirked.

"I'm just clumsy!"

"I'm starting to understand that," Tzuyu laughed softly. Then, quieter, almost thoughtful, "I do doubt you have a mean bone in your body."

Sana's expression softened.

"We should probably get me off the ice," she muttered. "I'm an occupational hazard."

"Yeah, we probably should before you really hurt yourself," Tzuyu said, slowly guiding Sana toward the edge of the rink.

Her hand was still firm around Sana's waist.

Sana was very aware of that.

They reached the barrier, and Tzuyu helped her step off the ice carefully. Sana clung to her a second longer than necessary before finally letting go.

"Well," Sana exhaled dramatically once both skates were safely on solid ground, "that was mildly traumatic."

Tzuyu huffed out a quiet laugh. "You did fine."

"I fell on you twice."

"Three times," Tzuyu corrected.

Sana's jaw dropped. "Three?!"

"The first one counts," Tzuyu said, lips twitching. "You just didn't fully commit."

Sana narrowed her eyes. "You're making fun of me."

"Maybe a little."

They moved back toward the bench so Sana could sit. Tzuyu crouched again without hesitation, hands gently lifting Sana's foot to untie the laces.

Sana swallowed.

"You don't have to—"

"It's faster," Tzuyu said simply, focused on the knot.

There was something about the way she concentrated—brows slightly furrowed, movements precise—that made Sana's chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment anymore.

"You're really good at this," Sana said softly.

"At tying shoes?"

"At taking care of people."

Tzuyu paused for half a second.

Then resumed.

"It's my job," she replied.

Sana watched her carefully. "You keep saying that."

Tzuyu loosened the second skate and slid it off gently. "It is."

"But you don't have to catch me like that just because it's your job."

Tzuyu finally looked up at her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I would've caught anyone," Tzuyu said evenly.

Sana held her gaze. "I know."

A beat.

"But I'm glad it was me."

Across the rink, Jake shouted excitedly as the rink staff began wheeling something large toward center of the room.

Tzuyu glanced over. "Looks like it's time for the surprise."

Sana looked too. "Still not going to tell me?"

"Nope."

Tzuyu started walking toward the center, then paused and looked back.

"Try not to fall on your way over," she said dryly.

Sana scoffed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

Tzuyu's lips curved—small, but real.

"Probably not."

Sana followed her, noticing Tzuyu slowed her pace just enough to walk beside her.

Once Sana reached the center, she realized the excitement buzzing through the crowd wasn't because of the cake being wheeled out.

It was because of him.

Jake stood frozen, eyes wide, as the famous hockey player stepped onto the ice, waving casually like this was any other day.

Sana blinked. "How did you pull this off? He's, like... really famous."

Tzuyu watched Jake's reaction, a small, satisfied smile playing at her lips. "I've known him a long time," she said. Then she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Not many people know he actually owns this place."

Sana's jaw dropped. "No way."

"Yeah. The original owner promised to sell it to him when he got older. It took a while, but once he made it big, he paid the rest off. This was—" she glanced around the rink fondly, "—his favorite place to practice growing up. Still is."

"Then why keep it a secret?"

"He doesn't want the attention. If people knew he owned it, this place would be even more hectic. So he lets someone else run it publicly."

Sana stared at her, equal parts impressed and suspicious. "That's so cool. But how did you convince him to show up to a random kid's birthday party?"

Tzuyu shrugged like she hadn't just orchestrated a miracle. "He owed me a favor."

Sana narrowed her eyes playfully. "You don't just casually get favors from internationally famous hockey players."

Tzuyu's lips twitched. "You'd be surprised."

Jake's excited shout echoed across the rink as the player crouched down to talk to him, handing over a signed stick.

Sana looked back at Tzuyu, softer now.

"You didn't have to go this big," she said quietly. "This is... way more than I expected."

Tzuyu kept her eyes on Jake. "You wanted it to be special."

Sana studied her profile. "Yeah. I did."

A beat of silence passed between them—comfortable, but charged.

"You're kind of incredible, you know that?" Sana murmured.

Tzuyu huffed lightly. "It's just good networking."

"Uh-huh," Sana smiled. "Sure."

But she noticed something.

Tzuyu wasn't watching the hockey player.
She wasn't watching the cake.
She wasn't even watching Jake anymore.

She was watching Sana's reaction.

And that, somehow, felt even bigger than the surprise itself.

Nayeon stared at her phone with a smug grin, watching the chat explode.

Nayeon: Ok we have to talk about it
Nayeon: Did anyone see what I saw today

Three typing bubbles appeared immediately.

Chaeyoung: If we're talking about Tzuyu and Sana then yes
Momo: It was hard to miss
Jeongyeon: Yeah I've never seen Tzuyu that open

Nayeon kicked her feet against the couch, satisfied.

Dahyun: She was still a little closed off but...
Mina: Yeah she opened up to Sana quickly

Across the room, Jihyo glanced at Tzuyu's empty mug still sitting on the table from earlier. A soft smile tugged at her lips before she looked back down at her phone.

Jihyo: It was nice seeing Tzuyu not be so wound up
Jihyo: She actually seemed to be having fun

Nayeon: I took so many pictures for their future wedding

Jeongyeon snorted from wherever she was sitting.

Jeongyeon: I think you're getting ahead of yourself

Nayeon: Come on you saw them

There was a brief pause.

Mina: I have to agree with Nayeon
Mina: There's definitely something there

Momo: But like Sana was also so patient too
Momo: Not her usual hyperness

Dahyun: I noticed that too
Dahyun: She seemed to slow down for Tzuyu

That made Jihyo pause.

Sana slowing down for someone wasn't small. Sana was sunlight—bright, fast, overwhelming in the best way. She didn't dim herself for people.

But today she had softened. Leaned in. Waited.

And Tzuyu... Tzuyu had let her.

Jihyo: Time will tell but there's definitely something special brewing

Jeongyeon: I'll agree to that

Nayeon grinned wickedly at her screen.

Nayeon: I give it three weeks

Chaeyoung: You're insane

Nayeon: I'm right

On the other side of town, completely unaware of the group chat dissecting their every glance, Sana was staring at her phone with a small smile.

A new message lit up her screen.

Tzuyu: Did Jake have fun?

Sana's smile widened.

Oh.

Yeah.

There was definitely something brewing.

Tzuyu: I know you love Kookeu a lot but a birthday party? Really?

Nayeon blinked.

"...Jihyo," she called, walking into the kitchen. "Babe. Are we having a birthday party for Kookeu that I wasn't aware of?"

Jihyo looked up from the stove, eyebrows knitting together. "No?"

Her phone buzzed again.

Tzuyu: Actually maybe Sana wanted to keep it as a surprise
Tzuyu: Forget I said anything

Nayeon smirked.

Nayeon: Forgotten :)

She immediately dialed Sana.

"Sana, why are we having a birthday party for Kookeu?" Nayeon laughed into the phone, staring at the text in disbelief. "I didn't realize you loved Kookeu that much," Nayeon teased.

"Of course I do," Sana replied quickly. Too quickly. "I just love the fluff ball so much."

"Uh huh," Nayeon hummed. "And this has nothing to do with a certain Taiwanese party planner?"

There was a dramatic sigh on the other end.

"Ugh, fine. You caught me."

Nayeon burst out laughing. "Just ask her out like a normal person!"

"Don't you think I've thought of that already?" Sana pouted. "She hardly seems interested. I thought if we spent more time together, she might fall for me."

"You think spending money on a dog birthday party is the best strategy?" Nayeon laughed. "We could've just organized a hangout."

"She mentioned she's going to be really busy the next few months," Sana defended. "Too busy to hang out."

"So you added more to her plate?" Nayeon shot back.

"I—" Sana paused. "It's more money for her?" she tried weakly.

"You're hopeless," Nayeon said fondly.

"Okay, maybe it's not my best plan," Sana groaned. "But it's too late to back out now. What does Kookeu even want?"

"I don't know," Nayeon grinned. "You should know since you love him so much."

"Ugh. This is my karma."

"Talk with Tzuyu," Nayeon suggested. "She loves dogs. Especially Kookeu. She'll know what to do."

There was a beat of silence.

"...That's actually a good idea," Sana admitted, blushing even though Nayeon couldn't see her.

"Good luck, Sana," Nayeon sang before hanging up.

She slipped her phone into her pocket and walked back into the kitchen.

"So," she announced casually, "Sana's throwing a birthday party for Kookeu."

Jihyo nearly dropped the spoon she was holding. "What? Why?"

Nayeon's grin turned wicked. "She wants to spend more time with our little Tzuyu."

Jihyo just shook her head, smiling softly. "She's down bad."

"Oh, extremely," Nayeon agreed, already pulling her phone back out. "The group chat is going to love this."

Jeongyeon: So are gifts, like... required??
Nayeon: Yes.
Jeongyeon: It's a dog.
Nayeon: My son is being celebrated today. Show some respect.
Jeongyeon: You didn't even plan this party.
Nayeon: That's not the point.
Nayeon: All that matters is that he's being treated like a king.
Nayeon: There will be presents. There will be praise. There will be photos.
Jeongyeon: This was announced 48 hours ago. I don't have anything prepared.
Nayeon: Figure it out 🤷‍♀️
Jeongyeon: I hate you.
Nayeon: 😁

Kookeu's birthday party was, somehow, real.

There was a massive gold foil banner that read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY KOOKEU" stretched across the backyard fence. Paw-print balloons floated at varying heights, tied neatly to little sandbags shaped like bones. There were hundreds of pictures of Kookeu hung up.

And in the center of the dessert table—

A three-tier, dog-safe cake shaped like a bone, complete with yogurt frosting and tiny edible name plaques.

There was also a suspiciously beautiful party planner adjusting the dessert display like this was a high-profile corporate gala and not a Pomeranian turning four.

Tzuyu stepped back, scanning the yard with professional focus.

"Okay," she said calmly. "Dog treats are separated by ingredient in case of allergies. The human food is on the left. Please don't let him eat the chocolate cupcakes."

"He wouldn't," Sana said confidently.

Kookeu was currently attempting to scale the cupcake table like it was Mount Everest.

"...I'll move them," Tzuyu sighed, already intercepting him mid-climb.

Across the yard, the girls stood in a tight semicircle like spectators at a live drama.

"Look at her," Nayeon whispered. "She's adjusting a dog's party like it's the Met Gala."

"Look at Sana," Mina corrected softly. "She hasn't blinked in thirty seconds."

"She's in love," Dahyun concluded.

Back near the dessert table, Sana had gravitated back to Tzuyu like a magnet.

"You look really pretty today," Sana said casually—like she hadn't rehearsed the line in her car ten minutes earlier.

Tzuyu didn't look up. "I... doubt that."

"No, no, it's definitely true," Sana insisted. "You're still the prettiest person here."

Tzuyu shifted a plate exactly two inches to the left. "I'm sure you say that to everyone."

"I'm not talking to everybody," Sana replied smoothly.

There it was.

A pause.

Brief.

Tzuyu adjusted a napkin. "The balloons might drift if the wind picks up."

Sana leaned closer. "Are you ignoring me on purpose?"

"I'm working."

"You can multitask."

Tzuyu finally looked at her.

Direct eye contact.

Calm. Controlled. Unreadable.

"Is this you multitasking?" she asked evenly.

Sana's stomach flipped violently. "Yes."

"You're very distracting."

"That's kind of the goal."

Across the yard—

"Oh my god," Dahyun whispered. "She actually said that out loud."

Momo covered her mouth. "Tzuyu's rebooting."

Tzuyu cleared her throat lightly. "Did you confirm the dog-friendly ice cream delivery?"

"Yes," Sana nodded. "I also want to confirm you'll stay after."

"I have to. You know. To clean up."

"No," Sana said gently. "I meant... to hang out."

Tzuyu blinked once.

"We're... hanging out now."

"With twenty people watching and a dog wearing a crown."

As if on cue, Kookeu barked proudly while sporting a glittery sash that read "Birthday King" and a tiny velvet cape someone—Nayeon—had insisted on.

Tzuyu's lips twitched.

Sana caught it immediately. "There it is."

"What?"

"That smile."

"I'm smiling at the dog."

"Sure."

The girls were no longer pretending not to stare.

"I need popcorn," Jeongyeon muttered.

Near the gift table, Jake—who had been invited because he adored Kookeu and because Sana couldn't resist inviting him—yelled, "ARE WE CUTTING THE CAKE OR WHAT?"

Tzuyu straightened. "We should start the candles."

"It's a dog," Sana laughed.

"Isn't this what you hired me for?" Tzuyu said, quirking an eyebrow.

Sana grinned. "And I'll do it again."

"Yeah?" Tzuyu questioned.

"Yeah, you throw good parties." Sana shrugged.

They stood shoulder to shoulder as everyone gathered around. Nayeon aggressively shoved them closer together for photos.

"Stand next to each other," she demanded. "We need to get everyone in frame."

"We are next to each other," Tzuyu said calmly.

"Closer." Nayeon repeated.

Tzuyu rolled her eyes, but got closer.

Sana bumped her hip lightly against Tzuyu's. "Hi."

"...Hi."

The camera flashed.

Kookeu barked.

And when Kookeu suddenly tried to leap off the table mid-photo—

Tzuyu's hand instinctively landed at Sana's lower back to steady both of them.

Just for a second.

Just long enough.

At first, it was just Kookeu's birthday.

That one, at least, had a somewhat legitimate excuse.

(It absolutely was not.)

But then—

It became a pattern.

"Sana," Jeongyeon said slowly, staring at the pastel mock-up invitation open on Sana's laptop. There were watercolor florals. There was a gold trim. There was a custom RSVP link. "You've never done this before."

"My employees deserve appreciation," Sana said lightly, not looking up as she adjusted the font for the event title: Quarterly Team Appreciation Soirée.

"You gave them bonuses last month," Jeongyeon reminded her.

"This is different. This is... morale boosting."

"Through catered charcuterie boards and balloon arches?" Jeongyeon deadpanned.

Sana finally looked up, completely serious. "Exactly."

Jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. "You could've just ordered lunch."

"That lacks vision."

"That lacks subtlety," Jeongyeon corrected.

Sana's phone buzzed.

Tzuyu: I've secured the venue.
Tzuyu: Do you prefer ivory or champagne table linens?

Sana smiled immediately.

Jeongyeon saw it. "You're unbelievable."

Somehow—miraculously—Tzuyu made it look elegant instead of excessive.

The venue, which had originally been a very plain rooftop lounge, now looked like something out of a lifestyle magazine. Soft string lights. Thoughtfully placed florals. Minimalist centerpieces that screamed expensive without actually screaming.

When Sana arrived early to "check on things," she found Tzuyu kneeling on the floor, adjusting a cluster of cream and blush roses so they framed the stage just right.

"You didn't have to come this early," Tzuyu said without looking up.

"I like seeing you work," Sana replied sweetly.

Tzuyu paused.

Just barely.

"It's not that interesting," she said flatly, though the tips of her ears betrayed her.

"I disagree," Sana hummed.

Tzuyu stood, brushing invisible dust from her slacks. "It's nice that you're throwing a party for your employees."

"They work hard," Sana shrugged. "I've known most of them a long time. Mrs. Jones especially."

"Yeah?" Tzuyu asked, tilting her head slightly. "I know you've been in Korea most of your life. Did she... take care of you?"

Sana's expression softened. "She did. She was the only parent I really knew growing up."

There was something distant in her eyes now—nostalgic.

"I appreciate her a lot," she added quietly.

Tzuyu's voice gentled. "I can tell she loves you. At her son's party she couldn't stop gushing."

Sana groaned softly. "I hope it wasn't anything embarrassing."

"Not really," Tzuyu said, the corner of her mouth lifting. "Just how generous you are. How you always show up when people need you. And... how much she missed you."

Sana smiled, small and genuine. "I missed her too. I'm really thankful she ran the office so well while I was in Japan. Especially because I didn't know I'd be gone that long."

"You had to go because of that manager, right?" Tzuyu asked carefully.

Sana blinked. "Yeah. He was being inappropriate. I couldn't allow that." She studied Tzuyu. "How'd you know?"

"The girls talked about you a lot," Tzuyu admitted, gaze drifting briefly to the floral arrangement instead of Sana. "I was curious so I looked you up."

Sana felt her walls shift slightly upward. "I'm sure you heard a lot then."

Tzuyu met her eyes steadily. "I try not to form opinions about people I don't truly know."

There was no judgment in her tone. Just quiet certainty.

"And your personal life is none of my business," Tzuyu continued. "Much less anyone else's."

Sana didn't realize how much she needed to hear that until her shoulders relaxed.

"I do think it's disgusting what that photographer did to you," Tzuyu added, voice firm now. "No one deserves that."

Sana looked at her differently then.

"Thanks," she said softly.

Tzuyu shrugged lightly, as if it were obvious. "It's just what any decent human being would say."

"Not everyone's a decent human being," Sana pointed out.

"True," Tzuyu nodded.

There was a beat of silence.

Not awkward.

Just... full.

"So," Tzuyu said, clearing her throat slightly, retreating to safer ground. "Do you want the champagne linens or ivory?"

Sana smiled slowly.

"Whichever one makes you happiest."

Tzuyu blinked once.

"That's not how this works."

"Sure it is," Sana said, stepping a little closer. "You're the expert."

From the doorway, unseen—

Jeongyeon leaned toward Nayeon. "Yep definitely for morale boosting."

Nayeon laughed quietly. "I'm just happy to be witnessing this."

Jeongyeon nodded in agreement.

Inside, Tzuyu adjusted a flower that didn't need adjusting.

And Sana pretended not to notice the faint pink tint creeping back into her cheeks.

"Sana," Jihyo said carefully, arms crossed as she stared at the digital mood board pulled up on the TV, "you're not even an accountant. Why are you celebrating the end of tax season?"

On the screen was a fully themed event proposal titled: 'Survived & Thrived: A Tax Season Wrap Party.' There were gold accents. There was a custom cocktail menu. There was a backdrop that said WRITE IT OFF in glittering letters.

"I'm not," Sana said easily. "But my accountant is."

"So," Jihyo tried again slowly, "you're throwing a party... for your accountant."

"Yes." Sana grinned. "Tax season is hard. Or so I've heard."

Dahyun squinted at the screen. "Is that a champagne fountain shaped like a calculator?"

"It's symbolic," Sana said defensively.

"Of what?" Jihyo laughed. "Financial irresponsibility?"

"They worked hard!" Sana insisted. "Long hours. Spreadsheets. Stress. Numbers."

"You don't even understand what they do," Dahyun pointed out.

"I understand they deserve celebration." Sana defended weakly.

Dahyun plopped down onto the couch. "You realize you could just text her 'hey, want to get coffee?'"

Sana gasped like Dahyun had suggested arson. "And risk rejection? Absolutely not."

"So instead," Jihyo said slowly, "you're spending an obscene amount of money to manufacture bonding opportunities."

"It's not manufacturing," Sana corrected. "It's... creating space."

"For what?" Jihyo scoffed.

"For organic interaction." Sana replied smoothly.

"There's nothing organic about these interactions." Dahyun pointed out. "You are quite literally orchestrating them."

"Maybe not but I get to see her either way." Sana grinned dreamily.

Jihyo and Dahyun looked at each other.

There was a long, silent exchange that said: She's gone. There's no saving her.

Dahyun finally sighed. "This is insane."

"It's romantic," Sana corrected.

"It's financially reckless," Jihyo replied.

Sana grabbed her phone, already typing.

Sana: Hypothetically, how do you feel about adding gold-accented cocktail napkins?

Jihyo groaned. "You're hopeless."

Sana smiled dreamily at her screen.

Maybe she was.

But if hopeless meant watching Tzuyu tuck her hair behind her ear while discussing centerpiece symmetry—

Then Sana didn't care.

The group chat absolutely lost it.

Nayeon: THIS DOG HAS MORE CELEBRATIONS THAN I DO
Chaeyoung: What's her excuse this time
Nayeon: The day Kookeu "said his first word"
Momo: Is that even a thing lol
Nayeon: NO
Jeongyeon: I'm reporting her for financial irresponsibility
Mina: She's glowing though
Dahyun: She really is
Jihyo: ...like the old Sana
Nayeon: I'm happy she's happy but she needs to grow a pair and just ask Tzuyu out

Three missed calls from Nayeon followed.

Sana ignored them.

She already knew how that conversation would go.

At the party, Sana tried something different.

No over-the-top compliments.
No dramatic teasing.
No leaning in too close just to see if Tzuyu would blush.

Instead, she stayed close—but softer. Quieter. Patient.

When Tzuyu carried in two heavy boxes of customized dog treat bags, Sana wordlessly took one from her hands.

When Tzuyu crouched to tape down a banner that read "Kookeu's First Words Anniversary" (objectively ridiculous—Sana knew), she held the other end steady.

When Tzuyu started laying out water bottles for guests, Sana silently grabbed half the pack and followed.

"You don't have to help," Tzuyu murmured. Not unkindly.

"I want to," Sana said simply.

Tzuyu glanced at her. "You're the client."

Sana shrugged. "And?"

"And clients don't usually tape decorations."

"Maybe yours don't."

A quiet breath escaped Tzuyu—almost a laugh.

They worked side by side in easy silence. No pressure. No performance.

Just proximity.

"I'm also..." Sana began, then hesitated. Without flirting to cushion it, the words felt heavier. "Your friend. I hope."

Tzuyu stopped.

For once, she didn't deflect. Didn't look away. Didn't adjust something that didn't need adjusting.

She looked at Sana properly.

Steady. Careful. Honest.

"You are," Tzuyu said.

Small.
Simple.
Certain.

It hit harder than any playful back-and-forth they'd ever had.

Bigger than the balloon arches.
Bigger than the themed dessert tables.
Bigger than every ridiculous excuse Sana had invented just to see her.

From across the yard, Mina watched from the dessert table, fingers curled loosely around a glass she'd forgotten to sip from.

"That's different," she murmured.

Sana and Tzuyu stood shoulder to shoulder, untangling fairy lights. No dramatic flirting. No exaggerated pouting. Just quiet teamwork.

Jihyo followed Mina's gaze. "It's weird seeing her not chase."

It was true.

Sana had always been momentum. Spark. Forward motion. She chased crushes with grand gestures and loud affection and relentless charm. If there was silence, she filled it. If there was distance, she closed it.

But now—

She wasn't chasing.

She wasn't trying to impress.

She wasn't performing.

She was just... there.

Steady.

"Yeah," Mina said softly. "They're good for each other."

On cue, Tzuyu said something too quiet for them to hear. Sana leaned in—not flirtatiously, not theatrically—just to catch the words.

Tzuyu's lips twitched.

Not a full smile. Just something small and private.

Sana didn't explode into teasing. Didn't celebrate it like a victory.

She just smiled back.

Gentle. Content.

Balanced.

Jihyo exhaled. "I haven't seen her this calm in a long time."

"Me neither."

There was something grounding about it.

Sana—who usually needed to be the brightest thing in the room—seemed perfectly happy standing half a step behind Tzuyu while she explained the event schedule to the staff.

And Tzuyu—careful, reserved, self-contained—didn't look tense with Sana beside her.

No pulling away.
No shrinking.

Just ease.

Mina's voice dropped lower. "Tzuyu doesn't get overwhelmed by her."

"And Sana doesn't feel like she has to be louder to be noticed," Jihyo added.

Across the yard, both reached for the same box.

Their hands brushed.

They paused.

Not startled.
Not embarrassed.
Just aware.

Tzuyu didn't pull away immediately.

Neither did Sana.

Then, quietly, they adjusted and kept working.

Like it was nothing.

Jihyo shook her head, a smile tugging at her mouth. "This is worse."

Mina blinked. "Worse?"

"For us," Jihyo clarified. "If she keeps this up, she might actually succeed."

Mina let out a quiet laugh. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Jihyo watched Sana—soft, steady, hopeful in a way that didn't look frantic.

"No," she said after a moment. "It's not."

For the first time since the absurd string of dog-related celebrations had begun—

It didn't feel like Sana was throwing parties to chase something.

It felt like she was building something.

Slowly.

On purpose.

Meanwhile, Kookeu barked proudly in his tiny crown, completely unaware that his fake milestone party had just marked a very real one.

You would think after this many ridiculous parties, one of them would grow a spine and just ask the other out.

You would be wrong.

If anything, Sana's wallet got lighter while Tzuyu's bank account got healthier. Neither of them seemed brave enough to take that last step into more, even though everyone within a fifty-mile radius could feel the tension humming.

"Sana has single-handedly funded Tzuyu's retirement plan," Nayeon announced at brunch one morning.

"It's an investment," Sana replied calmly.

"In what?" Jeongyeon scoffed.

"My future," Sana said, grinning like she'd just revealed a genius strategy.

Momo nearly choked on her drink. "You are down catastrophically."

"I think we established that around Kookeu's third party," Mina deadpanned.

"It was his first," Jihyo corrected.

"There were multiple Kookeu-adjacent events," Jeongyeon added.

"What are we at now?" Nayeon mused. "Fifty parties? Thousands of dollars? Still no date?"

Sana ignored them, already typing.

Her screen lit up with a familiar name.

Sana: Random question. Have you ever done a rooftop movie night?
Tzuyu: No but I could make it happen
Sana: Hypothetically how many people does that require
Tzuyu: At least one

Sana's lips twitched.

Sana: Mhm. How about for two?

There was a slightly longer pause this time.

Across the table, Mina narrowed her eyes. "She's texting her."

Jeongyeon leaned over. "Is this another fake milestone?"

Sana subtly turned her phone away.

Her screen lit up again.

Tzuyu: Yeah, I could make that happen
Tzuyu: How romantic are we thinking?

Sana blinked.

Nayeon gasped. "She's BLUSHING."

"I am not." Sana said turning redder.

"You are." Chaeyoung grinned.

Sana ignored them. Again.

Sana: Not much
Sana: It needs to be casual
Sana: But clear enough to be a date

There was a longer pause this time. Long enough that even Sana's confidence wavered for half a second.

Tzuyu: Got it
Tzuyu: I'll let you know when I have something booked

Sana stared at the screen.

Booked.

Not we should do it sometime.
Not maybe.
Booked.

Jeongyeon grabbed her wrist. "Well?"

Sana tried—failed—to suppress her smile.

"She said she'll let me know when she has something booked."

The table went silent.

"Oh my god," Momo whispered.

Nayeon pointed dramatically. "If this is another dog-related event—"

"It's not," Sana said, far too quickly.

Mina leaned back in her chair, studying her carefully. "You told her it needs to be clear enough to be a date."

Sana shrugged, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably. "I did."

"And?" Momo urged.

"And she didn't run." Sana couldn't help but grin.

That, more than anything, made the table quiet.

For once, this didn't feel like Sana manufacturing an excuse.

This was intentional.

Deliberate.

Mutual.

Jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. "You realize if this works, we're never hearing the end of it."

"If this works," Nayeon added, "I'm billing Tzuyu for emotional damages."

Sana just smiled at her phone again.

Because for the first time in fifty ridiculous parties and an absurd amount of money—

Tzuyu wasn't booking something for a crowd.

She was booking something for two.

It didn't take long for Tzuyu to get back to her.

Tzuyu: I have a few potential dates and times. What works best for you?
Sana: Whatever works best for you
Tzuyu: Any particular food or drinks?
Sana: I'm good with whatever you choose
Tzuyu: Okay. I'll keep you updated.

Simple. Efficient. Very Tzuyu.

Which is how Sana ended up standing in the middle of her bedroom, staring at her reflection like it might give her answers.

"Does it look like I'm trying too hard?" she asked, turning slightly toward Momo.

Momo, sprawled comfortably on the bed, tilted her head as she studied her. "No. It looks effortlessly casual."

"Effortlessly?" Sana echoed suspiciously.

"Well. Effortlessly for you," Momo corrected with a grin.

Sana turned back to the mirror, adjusting the hem of her top. "And the makeup's not too much?"

"No," Mina said from her spot by the window. "It's perfect. You look like yourself."

Sana exhaled, but it didn't quite settle the fluttering in her chest.

"Is this going to go well," she asked quietly, "or am I about to make a fool of myself?"

The room softened at that.

Momo sat up a little straighter. "I think Tzuyu really likes you," she said honestly. "She's different with you."

"Different how?" Sana asked, still staring at her own reflection.

"Happier," Momo said.

"More relaxed," Mina added. "You're the first person she looks for when she walks into a room. I don't even think she realizes she's doing it."

That made Sana blink.

"She is?" she asked, turning fully toward them now.

"Every time," Mina confirmed.

Sana's shoulders dropped a fraction.

"It's just..." She hesitated. "I have a hard time reading her sometimes."

Momo let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. That's our Tzuyu."

"She can be impossible to read," Mina agreed. "But also the easiest."

Sana frowned slightly. "That doesn't make sense."

"It does," Momo said gently. "She's not complicated. She just doesn't perform her feelings."

Mina nodded. "She just wants to be loved."

The words landed quietly in the room.

"And I know," Mina continued, her voice warm, "you won't have any trouble doing that."

Sana swallowed.

"Okay," Sana said finally, nodding to herself in the mirror. "Okay. I feel better."

"Good," Mina smiled.

Momo stood and walked over, fixing a barely-there wrinkle on Sana's sleeve. "And if we haven't said it already..."

"We're really happy for you," Mina finished.

Sana looked at them—really looked at them—and her smile this time wasn't flashy or triumphant.

It was small.

Real.

"Thanks," she said.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser.

All three of them froze.

Sana stared at it like it might explode.

Momo grinned. "Well?"

Sana grabbed her phone, heart pounding, and unlocked it.

This wasn't some ridiculous party. This was something real. Something that actually matters to her.

"Okay, so I set up a makeshift screen," Tzuyu explained, gesturing toward the white sheet stretched carefully across the far wall. "I tested it earlier. The projector's easy to use. Drinks are in the fridge over there. The food should be here any minute."

Sana slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in.

Fairy lights hung overhead, warm and soft. The couch had practically disappeared under an avalanche of blankets and pillows. Popcorn and snacks were already laid out on the table.

It looked perfect. Romantic—despite her "not too romantic" request.

"Any questions?" Tzuyu asked, turning to face her.

Sana smiled, heart doing something dangerously soft in her chest. "Nope."

"Okay." Tzuyu nodded once. "I'll leave you to it then."

She turned toward the rooftop door.

Sana blinked.

"...Where are you going?"

Tzuyu paused mid-step. "You don't need me anymore."

Sana stared at her.

There was no teasing. No hidden smile.

Just genuine confusion.

"...What?" Sana said.

"You said you wanted it casual but clear," Tzuyu continued carefully. "So I set everything up. I figured you'd want privacy."

The pieces clicked into place.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Tzuyu," Sana said slowly, fighting a laugh, "who exactly do you think is about to show up?"

Tzuyu shifted awkwardly. "I don't know," she admitted. "And I don't really want to stick around to find out."

Sana fully laughed now. "Tzuyu. This is for you."

Tzuyu froze. "For... me?"

"Yes," Sana said, stepping closer. "You."

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then Tzuyu's eyes widened slightly. "Are you... going to book more parties?"

Sana blinked. "What?"

"It's just," Tzuyu rushed, suddenly flustered, "I don't date clients."

The words hung in the air.

Sana tilted her head, a slow teasing smile spreading across her face. "Oh?"

Tzuyu looked like she wanted the ground to open up.

"Well," Sana continued lightly, "good thing this is my last booking for a while. I don't think my bank account can survive another fake milestone."

Tzuyu's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"So," Sana said, stepping into her space now—close, but not overwhelming. "No more client."

"No more client," Tzuyu echoed quietly.

A breath passed between them.

"In that case," Tzuyu said, voice steadier now, though her hands were still betraying her nerves, "Sana... would you go out with me?"

She glanced around at the setup and corrected herself softly, "Or—well—would you stay and enjoy this movie night? With me. The one I set up for you. That you technically set up for me."

Sana's smile softened into something real. "I'd love to."

Tzuyu exhaled, a quiet, relieved sound, like she'd been holding that breath for weeks.

"Good," she murmured.

"Good," Sana echoed.

They stood there for a second longer than necessary.

Not client and planner.

Not almost.

Just two people on a rooftop under fairy lights, finally on the same page.

Somewhere below them, a delivery driver buzzed to announce the food had arrived.

Neither of them moved right away.

Because there was nowhere else they'd rather be.

Halfway through the movie, Sana suddenly hit pause.

The rooftop fell quiet except for the faint hum of the projector.

"There's something I need to say," she admitted.

Tzuyu immediately looked concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Sana laughed softly. "Very okay. I just... when I set this up, I was so happy you said yes. I thought you knew what I was asking."

Tzuyu blinked.

"For so long, I wasn't even sure you liked me back," Sana continued, more vulnerable now. "So I kept waiting for you to make the first move."

Tzuyu stared at her.

"...You were flirting with me?" she asked in genuine disbelief.

Sana burst into laughter. "Yes. I don't flirt with every party planner I meet. Just the cute, Taiwanese ones."

Tzuyu's ears turned red instantly.

"I thought you were just... really friendly," she admitted. "And helpful."

"All those ridiculous parties weren't a giveaway?" Sana asked, eyes wide.

Tzuyu shrugged helplessly. "You'd be surprised what people choose to celebrate. I try not to judge."

Sana just shook her head, fond and exasperated all at once.

"Okay," she said, shifting closer. "Then I'll make this extremely clear."

Tzuyu went very still.

"Tzuyu," Sana said softly, all teasing gone now, "I really like you."

The fairy lights flickered gently above them.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

There wasn't even a second of hesitation.

"Yes," Tzuyu said immediately, smiling so wide it almost looked shy. "Yes."

Sana felt her chest tighten in the best way.

Tzuyu glanced down at herself suddenly, expression faltering. "I do feel a little bad though."

"Why?" Sana asked.

"You look gorgeous," Tzuyu said honestly. "And I look like a mess. If I wasn't so dense, I would've dressed up more."

Sana's expression softened.

"I still think you look so pretty," she said quietly. "You could wear anything and make it work. I'm kind of jealous, actually."

Tzuyu's blush deepened. "For our next date," she said, determination creeping in, "I'll put more effort into my outfit."

"Our next date?" Sana teased gently.

"Yes," Tzuyu said firmly.

Sana grinned. "Then let me plan it."

Tzuyu's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"You unknowingly planned the best date for us," Sana explained. "I want to do the same for you."

Tzuyu smiled, small and fond. "Okay."

There was a quiet beat before she added, almost under her breath. "You know, I picked my favorite movie. And the snacks I like. And the lighting I thought would be nice if I was—" She almost stopped herself, but decided to continue "the one on a date with you."

"Oh my god," Sana squealed, grabbing her hands. "That's so cute."

Tzuyu ducked her head, embarrassed but smiling.

"So technically," Sana grinned, squeezing her fingers, "you've been planning our date as if you already liked me."

"I did like you," Tzuyu corrected softly.

Sana's heart melted a little.

"Good," she whispered.

Then, because she physically could not resist—

She leaned in and kissed her.

Soft.

Warm.

Certain.

When they pulled back, the movie still paused behind them, forgotten.

"Should we finish it?" Tzuyu asked quietly.

Sana glanced at the screen.

"...Eventually."

Sana was sprawled across the couch, kicking her feet slightly in the air, phone inches from her face.

Her screen lit up.

Sana: So I'm trying to plan something special for someone but they always seem to be busy...
Sana: How does one get onto their schedule

The reply came almost instantly.

Tzuyu: I'm sure this someone can clear their schedule
Tzuyu: Just give them a time and date
Tzuyu: And an idea of proper attire

Sana bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to smile like an idiot.

Across the room—

"Does she even realize we're here?" Momo whispered.

"Considering this is our house?" Mina whispered back. "I'd hope so."

Sana let out a soft, involuntary giggle.

Momo slowly turned to Mina. "I don't think she does."

"She's been giggling at her phone for the past hour," Momo continued. "Do we intervene? Or do we let nature take its course?"

Mina glanced over at Sana, who was now kicking her feet harder. "Let's wait until she's done texting Tzuyu."

Momo raised an eyebrow. "Okay. And how long do we think that'll take?"

Sana made a soft noise that was definitely not normal-human-behavior-level happiness.

Mina hummed thoughtfully. "You're right."

Another buzz.

Another giggle.

"Just let them be for now," Mina decided.

"Fine," Momo sighed. "But I'm documenting this."

She pulled out her phone and very obviously took a picture of Sana smiling down at her screen like she'd just won the lottery.

Click.

Sana didn't even notice.

"Obviously," Mina replied calmly—having already taken three photos and a short video.

Sana: Okay. Friday. 7PM.
Sana: Semi-formal. But comfortable.
Sana: And maybe don't ask too many questions

There was a pause.

Sana held her breath.

Her phone buzzed.

Tzuyu: I'll be there
Tzuyu: Should I be nervous?

Sana's entire face softened.

Sana: Only a little

She let out another quiet, lovesick laugh.

Momo zoomed in for a close-up shot.

"This is good," she whispered.

Mina nodded. 

Sana finally glanced up, suspicious. "Why are you two looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Momo said innocently, lowering her phone.

"Like I'm a zoo animal." Sana said, eyebrow raised.

Mina smiled serenely. "You're just... glowing."

Sana tried to fight it.

She failed.

"Shut up," she muttered, hugging her phone to her chest.

Her screen lit up one more time.

Tzuyu: I'm looking forward to it

And just like that—

Sana started giggling again.

Momo sighed dramatically. "We've lost her."

"Completely," Mina agreed.

And neither of them stopped recording.

Eventually, Sana's phone went quiet.

She stared at the blank screen for a moment longer before letting out a dreamy sigh.

"Tzuyu must've gone to work," Momo smirked from the kitchen.

Mina laughed softly.

"Sana," Mina called gently, careful not to startle her. "Do you want some food?"

It was like a fog lifted.

Sana blinked, suddenly remembering she was, in fact, not alone.

"Oh—" She sat up quickly, nearly dropping her phone. "Food would be great. Thank you."

There was a faint flush on her cheeks.

Mina smiled at her softly, handing her a bowl.

"How's Tzuyu?" she asked. No teasing. Just warmth.

Sana didn't even try to hide her smile.

"We're going on a date Friday." Sana said excitedly.

Momo paused mid-slurp. "Oh?"

"I take it things are going well?" Mina asked.

"Yeah." Sana let out a small, helpless laugh. "Ugh, she's just so..."

She searched for the right word and came up empty.

"Soft," Momo offered.

"Earnest," Mina suggested.

Sana nodded. "She's just... her. And I like her so much." Her voice dropped slightly. "I never actually thought she'd like me back."

Mina's expression gentled even more. "I'm happy for you."

"Me too," Momo added, pointing her chopsticks at Sana. "I like this look on you."

"What look?" Sana asked suspiciously.

"The glowing one," Momo said. "The one who can't stop smiling."

"You're good for each other," Mina added.

Sana looked down at her food, stirring it absently.

"I've never felt this strongly about someone," she admitted quietly. "Not like this."

There was no dramatic gesture. No big declaration.

Just honesty.

"And that scares me," she added. "What if I mess it up?"

Momo set her bowl down.

"I don't think that's possible," she said softly.

Sana looked up at her.

"Tzuyu likes you for you," Mina said. "Not the party-throwing, over-the-top version. Not the flirting. Not the grand gestures."

"She likes you when you're quiet," Momo added. "When you're nervous. When you're talking her ear off. When you're just sitting there smiling at your phone like a loser. "

"Hey," Sana protested weakly.

Momo grinned. "Affectionate loser."

Mina smiled. "Nothing you do is going to suddenly make her stop liking you. She doesn't do things half way."

Sana absorbed that.

"Yeah," she said after a moment.

But there was still a small crease between her brows.

Mina noticed.

"Sana," she said gently, "you don't have to earn this."

That made her go still.

"She already chose you."

Silence settled for a second.

Sana blinked, then nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said again, softer this time.

Not fully convinced.

But wanting to be.

"Chewy," Nayeon sang lightly, nudging her with her elbow, "what's got you so smiley?"

Tzuyu immediately looked away. "Stop it, unnie."

"Oh no," Nayeon grinned. "Don't do that. It's rare we get this version of you. I'm savoring it."

Tzuyu tried to suppress it, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her again.

It was rare.

She wasn't used to letting herself feel like this. Not openly. Not without bracing for the fall.

"This is a good thing, Tzu," Nayeon said, her teasing softening into something gentler.

"I know," Tzuyu replied quickly. "I'm happy. I am."

Her smile faded just a little.

"I just..." She exhaled. "I can't help feeling like it won't last. Nothing good in my life ever really does."

Nayeon's expression shifted completely.

Tzuyu didn't talk about her past. She never had. No details. No stories. Just quiet resilience and a tendency to expect less than she deserved.

But the way she said that broke Nayeon's heart.

"What are you really worried about?" Nayeon asked softly.

Tzuyu hesitated.

Then the words started spilling out.

"I'm worried I won't be enough for her."

Nayeon didn't interrupt.

"She's so affectionate," Tzuyu continued. "So bubbly. She has so much love to give. She's expressive. Loud about how she feels. And I..." She swallowed. "I'm not like that."

Her hands fidgeted in her lap.

"I'm scared I won't be affectionate enough. That I won't know how to show her how much I like her. That I'll mess it up by not being what she needs."

There was a quiet urgency in her voice now.

"And I want to," she admitted, almost frustrated with herself. "I want to be affectionate. I want to show my heart on my sleeve. I want to be everything for her."

Her voice softened.

"I just don't know how."

Nayeon watched her carefully. "Wanting to is the first step," she said gently.

Tzuyu looked unconvinced.

"I'm serious," Nayeon continued. "The fact that you're worried about this? That you care this much? That already says everything."

Tzuyu's shoulders slumped slightly.

"You should talk to her about it," Nayeon added. "Tell her exactly what you just told me."

Tzuyu made a face. "That's... a big conversation. We just started dating."

"And?" Nayeon shrugged. "Isn't that the best time to be honest?"

Tzuyu went quiet.

"She'll understand," Nayeon said firmly. "And it shows you're willing to try for her. That matters more than magically being perfect."

Tzuyu let that sink in.

"She can tell you what she needs," Nayeon continued. "And you can tell her what you need. Communication is key, young Tzuyu."

A faint smile tugged at Tzuyu's lips despite herself. "You sound like a relationship podcast."

"I'm wise," Nayeon corrected smugly.

Tzuyu exhaled, tension easing just a little.

"You're right," she admitted.

"I know." Nayeon said immediately.

There was a small pause.

"...Unnie?" Tzuyu hestitated.

"Mm?" Nayeon hummed.

"What if she realizes she deserves someone better?" Tzuyu said quietly.

Nayeon didn't hesitate. "Better than you? I don't think that possible. But if it was, then she'll still choose you."

Tzuyu blinked.

"Because she already knows who you are," Nayeon said. "And she likes you anyway."

The doubt didn't disappear completely.

But it softened.

Dinner went better than either of them expected.

Not because it was extravagant.

But because it was easy.

Sana had chosen a small, cozy restaurant—dim lighting, quiet enough to talk without leaning across the table. Tzuyu arrived in a simple button-down and slacks, her hair styled just enough to show she'd tried.

Sana noticed immediately.

"You dressed up," she smiled.

"I told you I would," Tzuyu replied, attempting nonchalance—and failing when her ears turned pink.

"I think you look gorgeous."

Tzuyu held her gaze this time. "Not as good as you."

"Thank you." Sana blushed.

Dinner flowed without awkward pauses.

They talked about work.
About a ridiculous client Tzuyu had last week.
About a childhood story Sana swore she'd never tell anyone—and then immediately told anyway.

Tzuyu laughed more than usual.

Sana noticed that, too.

Afterward, the night still felt young.

"Do you want to come over?" Sana asked casually. "We could... sit. Talk. I have dessert."

Tzuyu pretended to consider it for half a second. "Okay."

Sana's apartment was warm in the way she was. Soft lighting. A throw blanket draped carelessly over the couch. Music humming low in the background.

They sat close—but not touching at first.

Sana handed her a fork and nudged the plate of cake between them. "You get the first bite."

Tzuyu raised an eyebrow. "It's yours. You should take the first bite."

"You're my guest." Sana said. "Just eat it."

They talked as they ate. Nothing heavy. Just comfortable.

At some point, their knees brushed, neither moving away.

The room felt calm.

Safe.

And that's when Tzuyu inhaled slowly. "Sana?"

"Yeah?" She turned toward her immediately, attention sharpening.

Tzuyu stared down at her hands. "There's something I've been thinking about."

"Okay?" Sana asked with a slight head tilt.

"I really like you." Tzuyu started, slowly.

Sana smiled softly. "I really like you too."

"But that's not the problem," Tzuyu continued.

Sana stilled.

"I'm worried I won't be enough for you."

Sana frowned. "What?"

"You're very affectionate," Tzuyu explained quietly. "Very expressive. You say what you feel. You show it easily."

Her fingers twisted together.

"I'm not like that. Not naturally."

Sana shifted closer without thinking.

"I'm scared I won't know how to give you what you need," Tzuyu continued. "That I won't be affectionate enough. Or that I'll mess this up by not being as warm as you are."

Her voice didn't shake.

But it was vulnerable.

"And I want to be," she added. "I want to show you how much I like you. I just don't always know how."

Sana immediately reached for her.

Slowly, she took Tzuyu's hands in hers.

"You know what I need?" Sana asked gently.

Tzuyu shook her head.

"Honesty."

Tzuyu looked up.

"You telling me this?" Sana squeezed her hands lightly. "That's affection. That's all I need from you."

Tzuyu frowned slightly. "It is?"

"Yes." Sana smiled. "You don't have to love the way I do. I don't need a louder version of you."

Her thumb brushed over Tzuyu's knuckles.

"I like that you're steady. I like that when you say something, you mean it. I like that when you hold my hand, it feels intentional."

Tzuyu's breath hitched.

"You don't have to be bubbly," Sana continued. "You just have to be you."

Silence settled between them again.

But this time it felt deeper.

Grounded.

"What if I'm bad at it?" Tzuyu asked quietly.

Sana leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "You're not."

Then she rested her forehead lightly against Tzuyu's.

"And if there's ever something I need more of?" she added softly. "I'll tell you. You can't fail a test I'm willing to help you pass."

That drew a small, reluctant laugh from Tzuyu.

Relief eased her shoulders.

"I don't need grand gestures," Sana said. "I need consistency. I need you showing up. And you're already doing that."

Tzuyu looked at her like she was trying to memorize the moment.

Then, slowly she leaned in and kissed her.

Not rushed.

Not dramatic.

Just sure.

When they pulled apart, Sana's smile was softer than usual.

"See?" she murmured.

Tzuyu tilted her head. "See what?"

"You're doing just fine."

And for the first time that night—

Tzuyu believed it.

"And Tzuyu?" Sana added quietly. "I'm also scared of messing this up. But we're in this together, okay?"

A small, steady smile.

"Okay."

"Jihyo unnie," Tzuyu said carefully over the phone, pacing her living room, "my apartment needs to be fumigated. There's a mold problem. Is it possible for me to stay with you temporarily?"

"Absolutely not."

Tzuyu blinked.

"Nayeon?" she frowned.

"I grabbed the phone," Nayeon confirmed unapologetically. "And the answer is no."

"What? Why?" Tzuyu pouted instinctively.

"Because Sana will kill us—me specifically—if she finds out there was even a chance you could've stayed with her and we stole you instead."

"She's not wrong," Jihyo chimed in in the background.

"That's not helpful," Tzuyu muttered.

"It's factual," Jihyo replied.

Tzuyu sighed. "Isn't it too soon to even ask her something like that?"

There was a brief pause.

"No," Jihyo said simply.

"Yes it is," Tzuyu argued weakly.

"Me and Nayeon moved in together after like a week," Jihyo shrugged.

"You've also known each other since forever," Tzuyu pointed out.

"Touché," Jihyo admitted.

Nayeon took the phone back.

"You don't have to ask her," she said, her tone shifting—less teasing now. "But is there even a tiny part of you that wants to?"

Tzuyu hesitated. "...Maybe."

"Okay," Nayeon said gently. "Then forget whether it's 'too soon.' If you want to stay with her, ask."

Tzuyu stared at the wall in front of her.

It wasn't about convenience.

It was about what it meant.

"She'll say yes," Jihyo added confidently.

"And if she doesn't," Nayeon continued, "then you can stay with us. No hard feelings. But don't avoid asking just because you're scared of what it implies."

Tzuyu swallowed.

Because it did imply something.

Trust.

Closeness.

A step forward.

"...Okay," she said finally, a little more resolved. "I'll ask her."

"That's our emotionally evolving Tzuyu," Nayeon teased lightly.

"Shut up," Tzuyu muttered—but she was smiling.

Tzuyu paced the length of her apartment for the fifth time.

She rehearsed the sentence in her head.

Hey, so my apartment's being fumigated, can I stay with you?
Too blunt.

If it's not too much trouble—
Too apologetic.

Her phone buzzed.

Nayeon: Pick up the phone and call her already.

Tzuyu frowned.

Tzuyu: How do you know I haven't called her already
Nayeon: Because I know you
Nayeon: You're pacing around your apartment right now

Tzuyu froze mid-step.

Tzuyu: I'm not...
Nayeon: Right.
Nayeon: Also Sana would've called us by now if you had
Nayeon: You know she really likes you
Nayeon: Wants you near her at all times
Nayeon: Never stops talking about you
Nayeon: Has a hard time saying no to you
Nayeon: Wants to see you smile

Tzuyu's ears turned red even though she was alone.

Tzuyu: Okay I get it
Tzuyu: I shouldn't be nervous
Tzuyu: I know she'll say yes
Tzuyu: I just can't help it

There was a short pause before Nayeon replied.

Nayeon: And that's okay
Nayeon: But the sooner you do it, the sooner you can stop pacing

Tzuyu glanced down at her feet.

...She was pacing.

Tzuyu: Fine
Tzuyu: I'm calling now

She didn't give herself time to overthink.

She pressed call.

Sana picked up almost immediately.

"Hey, babe," she answered, warmth pouring through the speaker.

Tzuyu smiled despite herself. "Hey."

"Not that I don't love that you called," Sana added, "but you don't usually call randomly. What's up?"

She could tell.

Of course she could tell.

Tzuyu swallowed. "My apartment's being fumigated. Mold problem."

"Oh no."

"I need a place to stay for a few weeks," Tzuyu continued carefully. "I was wondering if... I could stay with you."

There was a split second of silence.

Then—

"Of course you can," Sana said immediately.

If Tzuyu could see her, she'd see her bouncing in place.

"I'd love having you here."

Tzuyu's shoulders finally relaxed.

"Okay," she breathed. "Thank you."

"Of course." Sana said softly.

"How's work?" Tzuyu asked, relaxed now.

"Long," Sana sighed dramatically.

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

Sana hummed, likely checking her calendar. "No."

"Then let me come over and make you dinner."

"I'd love that," Sana beamed.

"Okay," Tzuyu smiled. "I'll see you tonight."

"I'll see you tonight," Sana echoed, clearly still smiling.

They lingered for a beat before hanging up.

"Wait, Sana."

"Yeah?" she hummed.

"...Remind me to randomly call you more often."

Sana laughed softly. "Why?"

"So I can tell you I miss you," Tzuyu said, pretending it wasn't a big deal.

Silence.

The soft kind.

"I miss you too," Sana replied, voice quieter now.

"Bye, Sana."

"Bye, Tzuyu."

They hung up.

Tzuyu stood still for a moment, letting the calm settle in.

Her phone buzzed again.

Nayeon: I shouldn't show you this
Nayeon: But I can't resist
Nayeon: voice_recording.mp3

Tzuyu hesitated... then pressed play.

"Oh my god, Nayeon," Sana's voice exploded through the speaker. "Tzuyu just asked to stay with me while her apartment's being fumigated. I get to spend more time with her. Eeeek. And she told me she missed me even though we saw each other this morning. I just about died of happiness. Best day of my life."

Tzuyu froze.

Her face went completely red.

A new text came through.

Nayeon: I'm proud of you for being brave

Tzuyu smiled down at her phone.

Tzuyu: Thank you for pushing me to ask
Nayeon: I just knew it would make both of you happy

Sana was having a rare, peaceful day at the office—lighter than she'd felt in months.

Tzuyu had been staying at her apartment for a few weeks now, and somehow, miraculously, it was going perfectly. Their routines overlapped without clashing. Tzuyu's quiet steadiness balanced Sana's restless energy. Mornings were softer. Nights were warmer. Sana had been seeing her friends more, laughing more, sleeping better.

She'd been living in a bubble.

Her phone buzzed.

Mina: You might want to look at the news...
Mina: I'm sorry.

Sana's stomach dropped.

She clicked the link.

Breaking News: Minatozaki Sana, CEO of Minatozaki Enterprises, was spotted out with a mysterious woman. The unidentified figure has been seen frequently leaving Sana's apartment. Is this her new girlfriend? And what happened to the girl from Japan?

Sana's jaw tightened.

There were photos. Blurry but unmistakable. Tzuyu in a hoodie. Tzuyu smiling. Tzuyu holding Sana's hand outside a café.

Sana was used to this. The headlines. The speculation. The invasive questions disguised as curiosity.

Tzuyu wasn't.

Tzuyu wasn't used to cameras flashing in her face.
Wasn't used to strangers zooming in on her expressions.
Wasn't used to having her existence turned into a narrative.

Sana exhaled sharply.

She should have prepared her. Should have warned her this might happen. But she'd been so wrapped up in how happy she was—so selfishly content—that she hadn't even considered the fallout.

Her fingers moved quickly.

Sana: Thanks, Mina.
Sana: I'll start working on getting it taken down.

Mina: Do you need anything from us?

Sana: No, I'll handle it.
Sana: But thank you.

Sana stood abruptly, already grabbing her coat.

"Can you reschedule my meetings for the rest of the day and contact legal about removing that article immediately?" she told her secretary, voice calm but clipped. "I want it gone."

"Yes, Ms. Minatozaki."

Sana was halfway out the door before the response finished.

The drive home felt too long.

All she could think about was Tzuyu—alone in the apartment, maybe already having seen it. Maybe spiraling. Maybe blaming herself.

Sana tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

This wasn't Tzuyu's fault.

And if the world wanted a story, they could deal with her instead.

When Sana got home, she didn't even bother taking off her shoes.

"Tzuyu?" she called out, already scanning the living room for any sign that something was wrong.

Tzuyu was sitting on the couch, her phone in her hands. She looked calm — too calm. The TV was off. The curtains were drawn.

"You saw it." Sana exhaled.

Tzuyu nodded slowly. "Mina texted me too."

Sana crossed the room in seconds. "I'm so sorry. I should've warned you. I should've prepared you. I just— I wasn't thinking. I've been so happy and I didn't even—"

"Sana." Tzuyu stood up and gently grabbed her wrists. "Breathe."

Sana hadn't realized she was spiraling until Tzuyu said it.

"I can get it taken down," Sana rushed on. "My legal team is already working on it. I'll tighten security. We won't have to go out if you don't want to. I can make sure this doesn't happen again."

Tzuyu studied her face carefully. "Are you embarrassed?"

Sana blinked. "What?"

"Are you embarrassed that they think I'm your girlfriend?"

Sana's expression shifted instantly — almost offended. "No. Never. I just— I didn't want you dragged into this mess."

Tzuyu softened. "I'm not made of glass, despite what our friends think."

"I know," Sana said quietly. "But you didn't sign up for this. Dating me comes with... noise."

Tzuyu gave the smallest smile. "You think I didn't know that? You're literally on the cover of business magazines, Sana."

Sana huffed a weak laugh.

Tzuyu stepped closer. "Yeah, it's weird. Seeing pictures of me walking out of your apartment like I committed a crime." She paused. "But what bothers me isn't the photos."

Sana tensed again. "Then what?"

"They asked what happened to the girl from Japan."

Sana's jaw tightened.

"I don't like that they think I'm something temporary," Tzuyu admitted softly. "Like I'm some replacement."

Sana's hands slid to Tzuyu's waist. "You're not temporary."

"Then don't treat me like a secret you have to protect."

That hit.

Sana swallowed. "I'm not trying to hide you."

"I know," Tzuyu said gently. "But if this is what dating you looks like, I'd rather face it with you than have you run around trying to erase it."

Sana searched her face. There was no fear there. Just steadiness.

"You're not upset?" Sana asked quietly.

"I'm annoyed," Tzuyu admitted. "But I'm more annoyed that you think this is your fault."

Sana let out a shaky breath.

Tzuyu squeezed her hands. "Next time something like this happens, we handle it together. Not you alone in CEO mode."

Sana's lips twitched. "CEO mode is very efficient."

"It's also very dramatic."

"I am not dramatic."

Tzuyu raised an eyebrow.

"...Okay maybe a little."

Tzuyu finally smiled fully. "If reporters are going to speculate, let them. We're not doing anything wrong."

Sana's voice dropped softer. "You're really okay staying?"

Tzuyu stepped into her, resting her forehead against Sana's.

"I asked to stay, remember?" she murmured. "You think a few paparazzi photos are going to scare me off?"

Sana felt her chest unclench for the first time all afternoon.

"You're sure?" she whispered.

Tzuyu nodded. "The only thing I'm upset about..."

Sana stiffened again. "What?"

"...Is that they caught my bad side."

Sana blinked — then burst into relieved laughter, burying her face into Tzuyu's shoulder.

"You're unbelievable."

"And you," Tzuyu said softly, "are stuck with me."

Sana pulled back just enough to look at her. "Good."

Then, more serious, quieter:

"If we ever decide to make this public, it'll be because we want to. Not because someone forced us."

Tzuyu nodded. "Together."

"Together," Sana agreed.

The couple lay tangled together on the couch, a blanket half-draped over them, the city lights dim through the windows.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping," Tzuyu said quietly, fingers tracing idle patterns on Sana's sleeve. "But... was it that same photographer?"

Sana didn't need clarification.

"The one who outed me when I was barely eighteen?" She let out a humorless laugh and rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Same one."

Tzuyu's arm tightened around her instantly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Sana sighed, pulling Tzuyu impossibly closer. "It's just... part of my life."

She stared at the ceiling for a moment before continuing.

"The worst part wasn't even the headlines. It was my parents. They disowned me." Her voice stayed steady, but her jaw clenched. "I'm not ashamed of who I am. I'm angry that I didn't get to come out on my own terms. I didn't even get the chance to tell them myself."

Tzuyu's hand moved soothingly up and down Sana's arm.

"They'd already signed the company over to me by then," Sana went on. "So at least they couldn't take that back. But I just... I don't understand how someone can throw away their child because they're gay. There are worse things in the world." She swallowed. "But I'm not surprised. They were never really there for me anyway."

Tzuyu's voice softened. "It still hurts when the people who are supposed to love you no matter what... don't."

Sana shifted, sitting up slightly so she could see her better. "You say that like you have experience."

Tzuyu hesitated.

"It wasn't my parents," she said finally. "They died when I was young. My grandparents raised me. I was their only grandchild. They adored me. Treated me like a princess. Said they'd love me forever."

Her gaze drifted somewhere far away.

"That changed when I came out at thirteen. They sent me to live with distant relatives. They were kind enough, but... it never felt like home. I think my grandparents told them something. I always felt like I was taking up space." She gave a small shrug. "So as soon as I could, I left. That's how I ended up in Korea."

Sana's expression crumpled. "I didn't know."

"I've never told anyone," Tzuyu admitted.

Sana reached up, cupping her face gently. "I'm really glad you told me."

"Me too," Tzuyu said, finally meeting her eyes.

Sana leaned their foreheads together. "Moral of the story? People suck."

Tzuyu let out a soft huff of laughter. "Yes. But not you."

She brushed her thumb across Sana's cheek.

"If none of that had happened, I might've never come to Korea. I might've never met you. So... there's at least one bright side."

Sana gasped dramatically. "Being cheesy is my thing."

"But I loved it," she added quickly, her voice turning sincere. "I'm so happy I met you. You make my world brighter."

"That's possible?" Tzuyu teased.

"I didn't think so either," Sana laughed. "Then you showed up."

Tzuyu smiled before leaning in to kiss her—slow, steady, grounding.

When they pulled back, Sana didn't move far.

"So," she said casually, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of nervousness. "What would you think about... not making this temporary?"

Tzuyu blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Sana said, brushing her thumb over Tzuyu's knuckles, "what if you just stayed? Permanently."

For a second, Tzuyu simply looked at her.

Then she smiled—the kind that reached her eyes.

"I think that's a great idea."

Sana's entire face lit up. "Perfect. It's settled then."

Later that night, when Tzuyu was sure Sana's breathing had evened out and she was fully asleep, she carefully slipped out from under her arm.

She didn't go far—just to the kitchen. Close enough to hear if Sana stirred.

Her phone lit up the dark.

Tzuyu: can you help me with something?

The reply came almost immediately.

Nayeon: Yeah, what is it?

Tzuyu hesitated, glancing toward the hallway.

Tzuyu: let's talk in person
Tzuyu: and don't let sana know

There was a longer pause this time.

Nayeon: um ok?

Tzuyu locked her phone and stood there for a moment, jaw tight.

She wasn't naive. She knew how this world worked. Knew what powerful people could get away with. Knew that some photographers didn't just "get lucky"—they targeted, provoked, stalked.

And this one had already taken something from Sana once.

Tzuyu wasn't going to let it happen again.

If, a week later, that same photographer received an unmarked envelope filled with crystal-clear photographs of him leaving a hotel with someone who was very much not his wife—

If there was also a typed note inside that read:

Stop inserting yourself into other people's private lives.
Or yours won't stay private either.

And if those photographs were convincing enough that he immediately pulled every recent submission involving Minatozaki Sana—

Well.

Tzuyu and Nayeon wouldn't know a thing about it.

After all, they had simply met up for coffee.

Sana was in the kitchen, dramatically narrating her attempt at cooking dinner, even though Tzuyu had offered at least three times to help.

“And this,” Sana said proudly, holding up a wooden spoon like a microphone, “is what we call culinary genius.”

Tzuyu leaned against the counter, smiling softly. “You’re burning it.”

Sana gasped. “I am not—” She looked down. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Tzuyu laughed, stepping forward to turn the heat down. She brushed past Sana, close enough that their shoulders touched.

They both stilled.

It wasn’t a new closeness. They lived together now. They slept tangled up every night. They shared toothbrush space and closet space and morning silence.

But sometimes it still hit them.

This is real.

Sana watched Tzuyu focus on the stove, calm and steady as always. The warm kitchen light caught her profile just right. She looked safe. She looked like home.

The words slipped out before Sana could overthink them.

“I love you.”

Tzuyu slowly turned to face her.

“You love me?” she asked, almost like she needed to hear it again to be sure.

Sana nodded, cheeks pink but gaze steady. “Yeah. I do. I love you. I love how steady you are. I love how you hold me like I’m something precious. I love that you moved across countries and built a life from nothing. I love that you make my world feel… safe.”

Tzuyu’s composure cracked.

Her eyes glossed over, and she stepped forward without thinking, hands gripping the front of Sana’s shirt like she needed to anchor herself.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say it first,” Tzuyu admitted quietly.

Sana blinked. “You have?”

“I’ve loved you for a while,” Tzuyu confessed. “I just didn’t want to rush you. I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

Sana let out a small, breathless laugh. “I would never feel pressured by you.”

Tzuyu’s thumb brushed over Sana’s collarbone. “I love you too,” she said, voice steady but full. “I love your ridiculous energy. I love how brave you are. I love that you choose me every day. I love that you still believe in love after everything.”

Sana’s eyes softened completely.

“You’re stuck with me now,” she whispered.

Tzuyu leaned in, resting their foreheads together.

“Good.”

The food on the stove started to burn again, but neither of them moved.

A year had softened everything.

Not in the way love fades —
but in the way it settles.

Tzuyu and Sana weren’t just in love anymore. They were woven together. Mornings were quieter but warmer. Arguments were rare and resolved gently. They knew each other’s coffee orders, moods, tells. They had built something steady.

Which is why Sana stood in front of their friends practically vibrating with excitement.

“Okay,” she said, clapping once to gather attention. “I gathered everyone here today to announce something big.”

The girls leaned forward.

“I’m going to propose to Tzuyu.”

There was a split second.

A flicker.

A glance passed between Nayeon and Jihyo. Mina’s smile froze just slightly. Dahyun’s hand twitched toward her phone before she stopped herself.

“Oh my god, Sana, that’s amazing!” Jihyo stood immediately and pulled her into a hug.

“When are you thinking?” Dahyun asked carefully.

“Next Friday,” Sana said proudly.

Another glance.

Next Friday.

“That’s so soon,” Mina said, voice light but measured. “I wasn't aware you had a ring.”

Sana’s expression softened instantly.

“Yeah. I’ve had it for a couple months.” She reached into her pocket but didn’t pull it out. “I’ve had to stop myself a few times from just asking. But I want it to be special. She deserves it.”

And that part was real. Entirely real.

Jeongyeon stepped forward and squeezed her shoulder. “You two make a great couple.”

“We’re happy for both of you,” Chaeyoung added gently.

“Thank you,” Sana beamed. “I know it’s going to be such a good night.”

“Yeah,” Nayeon said, smiling wide. “I’m sure it will be.”

By next Friday, everything was perfect.

Sana had planned it down to the second.

The restaurant was softly lit, their usual corner table reserved. The staff had been subtly tipped off. A small velvet box rested heavy in her coat pocket, and she had touched it at least twelve times since sitting down.

Dinner had been easy — laughter, shared bites, Tzuyu reaching across the table absentmindedly to wipe sauce from the corner of Sana’s lip.

It felt right.

Sana inhaled slowly.

“I want to admit something,” she said.

Tzuyu’s eyebrows furrowed immediately, concern flashing across her face. “What is it?”

“I had someone promise they’d do something very important for me,” Sana said, pouting slightly. “But apparently they’re going to be busy that day.”

Tzuyu straightened. “Busy? With what? We can get someone else for whatever it is. Whatever this is. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Sana smiled softly at that — at how immediate Tzuyu’s instinct was to fix it.

“Yeah,” Sana nodded. “I think we can. But I need to ask something first.”

Before she could overthink it, she stood. The restaurant noise dimmed in her ears.

She walked around the table.

And knelt.

Tzuyu froze.

Sana pulled the ring out, hands trembling just slightly.

“Will you marry me?”

The world stopped.

Tzuyu’s face drained of color.

Panic.

“I—” Tzuyu swallowed. “I can’t. No.”

The word hit like glass.

Sana slowly sat back down in her seat, the ring still in her hand. Her ears rang. She hadn’t prepared for that answer. Not from Tzuyu.

“What I mean is—” Tzuyu rushed, leaning forward. “Not right now. I just need a little more time. I still want to be with you. I’m not saying no forever.”

Sana forced a small smile, eyes already glossing over.

“Oh. Okay. As long as you’re not breaking up with me.”

Tzuyu immediately reached across the table, cupping her face gently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Sana let out a shaky laugh as a tear slipped free. “I don’t want to rush you. I just… I thought we were on the same page.”

“We will be,” Tzuyu said softly. “Soon. I just need a little more time.”

Time.

Sana nodded, even though her chest felt hollow.

“Okay,” she whispered.

There was an awkward beat.

Then Tzuyu squeezed her hand gently. “Let’s order you some dessert.”

Sana blinked and straightened slightly. “Let’s get the cheesecake.”

She tried to make it sound excited.

Tzuyu caught it — the effort — and her heart twisted.

“Cheesecake,” she confirmed quietly, signaling the waiter.

They ate it together.

Still holding hands.

Still in love.

But something fragile now sat between them.

The car ride home was quiet.

Not angry.

Not explosive.

Just… careful.

The kind of silence where both people are choosing their words too slowly.

When they stepped into their apartment, the familiar warmth felt different. Smaller somehow.

“I’m really sorry, Sana,” Tzuyu said once the door closed behind them. She reached for her hand like she always did.

Sana let her.

“I know,” she replied softly. “It’s not your fault you’re not ready yet.”

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I do want to marry you one day,” Tzuyu said, voice steady but tight. “I promise. Just not right now.”

“And that’s enough for me right now,” Sana answered.

It was kind.

It was mature.

It still hurt.

“Okay,” Tzuyu said, squeezing her hand. “I love you.”

Sana swallowed.

“I love you too.” A beat. “I’m just going to bed. I’m tired.”

Tzuyu’s hand fell away as Sana walked toward the bedroom.

The soft click of the door closing felt louder than it should have.

Tzuyu sat down on the couch.

Her chest felt tight.

Her phone lit up in her hand.

Tzuyu: I’m such an idiot
Tzuyu: Sana proposed and I said no
Tzuyu: I should’ve just said yes

Nayeon: Hey. It’s okay.
Nayeon: It’ll all work itself out.

Tzuyu: You didn’t see how sad she was.

There was a long pause.

Nayeon: She loves you.
Nayeon: And you love her.
Nayeon: That matters more than one moment.

Tzuyu stared at the screen.

Then at the dark reflection of herself in the TV.

In the bedroom, Sana lay on her side, staring at the wall.

Her phone buzzed.

Sana: She said no.
Mina: Oh Sana, I’m sorry.
Sana: She said she wasn’t ready yet.
Sana: Am I moving too fast?
Sana: I thought we were both ready.

Mina: You’re not wrong for wanting it.
Mina: And she’s not wrong for needing time.
Mina: She loves you so much.
Mina: Sometimes she’s just a little slow with big things.

Sana let out a soft, sad laugh.

That sounded like Tzuyu.

Sana: I guess you’re right.
Sana: I’m just going to go to bed.
Sana: Good night, Mina.

Mina: Good night, Sana. 🤍

Sana placed her phone face down.

The bed felt too big.

Even though Tzuyu was only in the next room.

Meanwhile, another group chat lit up.

Nayeon: So… tonight didn’t go as planned.
Mina: It didn’t.
Momo: What happened??
Nayeon: Sana proposed. And Tzuyu said no.
Dahyun: Oh no…
Chaeyoung: Sana must be heartbroken.
Jeongyeon: But we know this is going to work out.
Jihyo: Yeah. They love each other.
Jihyo: This is just a timing thing.

And they were right.

Because in the living room, after staring at the ring for far too long, Tzuyu stood up.

She walked quietly to the bedroom door.

She hesitated.

Then opened it softly.

Sana was lying still, but not asleep.

Tzuyu slipped into bed behind her.

Carefully.

Like she was afraid of breaking something fragile.

She wrapped an arm around Sana’s waist.

There was a brief pause.

Then Sana shifted back into her without a word.

They didn’t talk.

They didn’t try to fix it.

They just lay there.

Still choosing each other.

Even in the discomfort.

Tzuyu bit her lip nervously, twisting her hands together.

“Sana… will you go to dinner with me tonight? I want to make up for yesterday.”

Sana paused, letting the words sink in. Yesterday still stung a little, sure—but seeing Tzuyu so anxious over it made her heart ache in a different way.

“Yes,” she said softly, stepping forward and pressing a gentle kiss to Tzuyu’s cheek.

Tzuyu’s eyes lit up, and a shy, relieved smile spread across her face.

“Ok, I have reservations for 6 pm,” she said, voice bright, like the weight of yesterday had lifted slightly.

Sana couldn’t help but smile back, warmth creeping into her chest. “I’ll be there,” she replied, taking Tzuyu’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

When Sana and Tzuyu arrived at the restaurant, they were led to the rooftop. It was breathtaking—fairy lights twinkled overhead, candles flickered gently on every table, and the city stretched out below them, quiet and sparkling. It looked like it had been planned for months.

They settled into their seats and enjoyed dinner, the tension from yesterday slowly dissolving with each bite and laugh.

“Thank you for this,” Sana said, smiling softly as she set down her fork. “It really helped cheer me up. But… you know you didn’t have to do all this, right? I completely understand that you weren’t ready, and I’m not going to rush you. Please don’t feel bad about rejecting my proposal.”

Tzuyu reached across the table and brushed a strand of hair from Sana’s face, smiling warmly. “Thank you for understanding that I needed time. Your patience… your empathy… those are some of my favorite things about you. It’s what made me fall in love with you.”

Her voice grew quieter, almost reverent. “The first time I saw you, I was mesmerized by your beauty. And when you threw that ball at me—while I was staring directly at you—I didn’t see it coming. I was so happy when you stayed to help me clean up after the party. It meant I could spend even more time with you. Then you booked a party… and another… and another. Each one made me fall more and more in love with you. And when you asked me to book that rooftop movie date, I thought I had blown my chance. I was so scared. But you… you knocked me into my senses, and now I’m here, completely, utterly in love with you.”

Tzuyu slid off her chair and stood in front of Sana, nerves and excitement shining in her eyes. “Sana… I’m ready to take that next step with you. So… will you marry me?”

Sana blinked, caught between laughter and tears. “No.”

Tzuyu froze. “No?” Her voice cracked slightly. “I… I don’t understand.”

Sana grinned, holding back tears. “No I won’t marry you… because you’re marrying me. Tzuyu, will you marry me?” She pulled out her ring, holding it out with a small, triumphant smirk.

Tzuyu’s laughter bubbled up immediately. “Is this payback for saying no yesterday?”

Sana nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. “Yes. Minatozaki Sana I will marry you. Now… will you be marrying me?”

“Yes, Chou Tzuyu… I will marry you!” Sana exclaimed with a laugh, slipping the ring onto Tzuyu’s finger.

Tzuyu climbed back into her chair, still giggling. “That was… the weirdest proposal ever.”

“Yes,” Sana agreed, taking Tzuyu’s hand in hers, “but also the best. Thank you!”

Tzuyu kissed her hand softly. “It was my pleasure. Though I will admit… when you said no, my heart literally stopped for a second.”

“I know!!” Sana laughed, squeezing her hand. “It was so heartbreaking for a moment. But now I get it—you wanted to be the one to propose.”

“I did,” Tzuyu admitted, smirking. “Though mine didn’t exactly go as planned either. You still got a yes first.”

“Yes I did,” Sana said proudly, grinning from ear to ear.

They laughed together, the city lights shimmering around them, their hearts full, finally exactly where they were meant to be.

“I have another surprise for you,” Tzuyu said as they drove.

“Would it happen to be… an engagement party?” Sana asked, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“It would,” Tzuyu confirmed, her eyes sparkling. “I got everyone to come. Mrs. Jones and Jake included.”

Sana leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you! This has been the best day ever.”

When they arrived at Nayeon and Jihyo’s house, the moment they stepped inside, everyone shouted, “Congratulations!”

Sana laughed and quickly hugged everyone as they showered her with congratulations.

“So… how’d Tzuyu do it?” Nayeon asked, practically bouncing with excitement. “We heard some of the plan months ago, but I want all the details!”

Sana and Tzuyu exchanged a look. Tzuyu’s eyes were saying, embarrassing, don’t tell, while Sana’s pleaded, please, let me share this.

Tzuyu pressed a hand lightly to Sana’s arm, shaking her head. But Sana grinned mischievously, stepping closer.

“We had dinner,” Sana began, “and she gave this really sweet speech. And then… she proposed.” She glanced at Tzuyu. “I said yes, and now we’re here.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Mina said, beaming. “I’m so glad everything went perfectly.”

Sana leaned into Tzuyu, wrapping an arm around her. “Yeah… me too!” she said, her face glowing with happiness. Tzuyu felt herself blush under all the attention, but she didn’t mind—it was the kind of embarrassment that felt warm and full of love.

The group settled into the living room, drinks in hand, the energy buzzing with excitement. Sana and Tzuyu sat close together, hands entwined, while their friends circled around, grinning.

“I mean, honestly,” Jihyo said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied smile, “we all knew this would happen eventually.”

“Yeah,” Jeongyeon added, smirking. “The way you two stare at each other… it’s so full of love"

"It's amazing to see how far you've come." Mina smiled.

"Remember all those ridiculous parties you made Tzuyu plan?” Chaeyoung laughed.

Momo laughed, shaking her head. “Those parties were insane, but it was all worth it. Every ridiculous balloon arch, every themed cake led to this.”

Nayeon smirked, sipping her drink. “I just knew Tzuyu had to finally get a moment to plan something for herself. She’s not usually the one to be impulsive, but watching her pull off that rooftop proposal? Chef’s kiss.”

Sana nudged Tzuyu gently with her shoulder. “You were amazing, by the way. That speech…”

Tzuyu laughed softly, blushing. “You mean my nervous rambling?”

“Hardly,” Mina said, smiling warmly. “It was perfect. You both are perfect together. I’ve never doubted it for a second.”

Chaeyoung leaned in conspiratorially. “Honestly, it was kind of cute watching everyone else panic whenever Sana got an idea in her head. We were like, oh god, is this another party? And then you two just… made it work.”

Sana laughed, resting her head against Tzuyu’s shoulder. “Well, you can’t really plan a proposal without a little chaos, right?”

“But it’s the kind of chaos I don’t mind at all,” Tzuyu whispered, squeezing Sana’s hand.

Nayeon raised her glass. “To Sana and Tzuyu. You two are perfect for each other, and we all knew it from the start. Here’s to a lifetime of love, patience, and maybe fewer themed parties.”

“Never fewer parties,” Sana said immediately, earning a laugh from everyone.

Momo shook her head, smiling at the couple. “No, really… seeing you two together like this… it’s different. You balance each other perfectly. You don’t have to do anything extra to prove it. You just are.”

Jeongyeon added softly, “Yeah. I mean, it’s like… everything that made you two fight through the little stuff—the parties, the teasing, all the miscommunications—was just preparing you for this. You’re so steady together now. I can’t imagine anyone else.”

Sana leaned closer to Tzuyu, resting her forehead against hers. “I’m so lucky,” she murmured.

“You’re not the only one,” Tzuyu said, her voice quiet but full of certainty. “I’ve never felt this sure about anything in my life.”

From across the room, Mina whispered to Momo, “They’re really going to be okay, aren’t they?”

Momo nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah. They’re better than okay. They’re perfect for each other.”

And as laughter and chatter filled the room, Sana and Tzuyu held each other a little tighter, knowing that everyone around them had already seen what they had—what they would always have.

“And I promise that no matter how much I tease you, no matter how dramatic I get, I will always come home to you.”

Tzuyu’s lips trembled.

The officiant smiled gently. “Do you, Chou Tzuyu, take Minatozaki Sana to be your wife?”

“I do.” Tzuyu didn’t hesitate.

“And do you, Minatozaki Sana, take Chou Tzuyu to be your wife?”

Sana beamed through her tears. “I do.”

“You may kiss.”

Sana didn’t even wait for the full sentence to finish before she cupped Tzuyu’s face and kissed her. The crowd erupted immediately—cheers, whistles, Dahyun’s very loud scream cutting through everything.

Chaeyoung wiped her eyes. “I told you she’d be a mess.”

Sana laughed breathlessly. “We did it.”

Tzuyu nodded, her eyes shining. “We did.”

"Sit Down with Minatozaki Sana — She Has Big News to Share"

Interviewer: Hi, Sana. Thank you for sitting down with me today.

Sana: Of course. Thank you for having me.

Interviewer: I have to ask — you’re known for being a very private person. Why now? Why this interview?

Sana: For a long time, my story has been told about me, but never by me. There are countless headlines, rumors, narratives… but very few of them feel like they actually know who I am. I think I’m finally ready to speak on my own terms.

Interviewer: That’s incredibly brave. I feel honored that you trust me with that.

Sana: I did my research. You have a reputation for being thoughtful and respectful. That mattered to me.

Interviewer: Thank you. That means a lot. You mentioned you had some big news to share — but before we get there, where would you like to begin? This is your space.

Sana: Let’s start at the beginning. I grew up in the spotlight. And honestly… that’s not something any kid should have to navigate. Being watched. Judged. Having your mistakes magnified. Privacy becomes a luxury.

She pauses.

Sana: I learned to live with it. But when I turned eighteen and was outed… that changed everything. I’m not ashamed to be gay. I never have been. What hurt was losing the chance to come out in my own way, at my own time. That choice was taken from me.

Interviewer: I’m so sorry. No one deserves to have something so personal exposed like that.

Sana: Thank you. It was painful. But it also clarified things for me. It made me realize who I truly wanted in my life — and who I didn’t.

Interviewer: Did that experience change how you let people into your world?

Sana: Completely. I became very protective. Not just of myself, but of the people around me. I didn’t want my friends — or anyone I cared about — to be dragged into that same scrutiny. So I became careful. Intentional about who I was seen with.

Interviewer: I hope this isn’t too forward, but… a few years ago, there were photos of you with someone. Fans speculated a lot. What ever happened with that?

Sana smiles — soft, knowing.

Sana: Remember the big news I mentioned?

Interviewer: Yes?

Sana: She’s my wife.

The interviewer blinks in surprise, then breaks into a wide smile.

Interviewer: Congratulations.

Sana: Thank you. We worked very hard to keep it private. I’m honestly amazed we managed to keep it under wraps for as long as we did.

Interviewer: That’s incredible. Would you like to talk about her? Or would you prefer to move on? I don’t want you to feel pressured.

Sana laughs quietly.

Sana: If we start talking about her, we might never finish this interview.

Interviewer: That good, huh?

Sana: She’s… everything. She’s steady where I’m impulsive. Calm when I’m loud. She sees me — not the headlines, not the public image. Just me. And she loves me anyway.

Interviewer: I can tell. Your whole face just lit up.

Sana smiles, almost shy.

Sana: You’d understand if you met her. Though… we didn’t exactly start off romantically.

Interviewer: Oh?

Sana: I accidentally threw a baseball at her.

The interviewer bursts into laughter.

Interviewer: That is not what I expected.

Sana: It was a misunderstanding! I thought she was paying attention. She wasn’t. The ball just… hit her. I felt terrible. But I guess it was memorable.

Interviewer: That’s certainly one way to make an impression.

Sana: Clearly it worked out.

Both laugh.

Interviewer: Before we close, is there anything else you’d like to say? To your fans? To the people watching?

Sana grows thoughtful.

Sana: Just… thank you. To the people who supported me quietly. To those who defended me when I couldn’t speak. To those who stayed when things were messy. I wouldn’t be here — happy, safe, loved — without you.

Interviewer: Sana, thank you for trusting us with your story.

Sana: Thank you for giving me the space to tell it.

Interviewer: And to everyone watching — thank you for tuning in. We’ll see you next time.

The car door shut softly behind Sana.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The world outside was still buzzing from the interview, but inside the car it was just them.

Tzuyu reached over first, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said quietly. “That wasn’t easy.”

Sana exhaled, leaning back in her seat. “Thanks for pushing me to do it. I probably would’ve been perfectly happy keeping us hidden forever.”

“I know,” Tzuyu smiled. “But I don’t want to hide. I want to love you out loud. Let everyone know you’re mine.” She smirked slightly. “Maybe make a few people jealous.”

Sana laughed, turning toward her. “Oh, please. You saw those comments when those pictures leaked years ago. I should be the jealous one.”

Tzuyu squeezed her hand. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours.”

Sana’s eyes softened, but her grin stayed playful. “Damn right you are.”

Tzuyu leaned closer. “Possessive, aren’t we?”

“Very,” Sana replied without hesitation. “I fought too hard for you to pretend I don’t want the whole world to know.”

Tzuyu smiled at that — not teasing now, just warm.

“Good,” she murmured. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

“What’re you doing?” Sana asked, leaning against the doorway.