Chapter Text
By the time their team is called onto the competition hall, the gymnasium has already become something overwhelming.
The sound inside the arena is constant, a thick, layered roar of voices, music, and distant announcements that never fully settles into silence. From where Miu stands at the edge of the floor, the space feels impossibly large, rising in steep tiers of seating that disappear into the upper shadows. The bright overhead lights flatten everything into clarity, washing the polished wood of the performance floor until it looks almost unreal, like a stage separated from the rest of the world.
Her team gathers around her in their blue-and-white costumes, the colors sharp under the lights. Some of the girls are visibly trying to steady their breathing, shoulders rising and falling a little too quickly, while others keep adjusting details that don’t need adjusting, fingers smoothing fabric or retightening hair that is already secure. Miu recognizes the pattern without needing to think about it.
No matter how many competitions they have done, this moment always carries the same pressure. Everything they have built in months of practice collapses into the next few minutes, and there is no more room for correction once they step out there. That is the part people outside never understand; the performance is not the difficult part. It is what happens before it that breaks people if they are not careful.
Miu tightens her own ponytail and lets her gaze drift upward, just once, toward the audience. It is a rule she has never broken: one look only, never lingering, never searching. The moment you start looking for someone specific, the entire crowd starts to matter too much, and that is a distraction she refuses to allow herself. Her eyes sweep across the stands in a single controlled motion before returning to the floor, and she tells herself that is enough. It always has to be enough.
When the team gathers into their final circle, Miu looks at them properly. She sees everything she needs to see in their faces: nerves they are trying to hide, determination they are trying to sharpen into confidence, and the quiet trust that has been built over endless hours of repetition. She does not soften her voice when she speaks, because softness does not hold people steady in moments like this. Instead, she keeps it direct, grounded.
“Stay in it,” she says, and her eyes move across each of them in turn. “You know the routine. You don’t chase anything. You don’t fix anything mid-performance. You just stay with the music and with each other.”
They nod, and that is enough. It has to be.
They break the circle and take their positions.
The music starts.
And everything else falls away.
Her body took over.
The choreography flowed naturally from one movement into the next. Every turn led into another step. Every step led into another formation. She moved alongside the other dancers with the confidence that only came from repetition. Months of practice had carved the routine so deeply into her muscles that she no longer had to think about it.
She simply danced.
The music surged around them, filling every corner of the arena. The audience clapped and cheered in time with the performance, but the sounds felt distant, muffled by her concentration.
This is the part she loved most.
Of course, she also loved winning.
But this feeling.
The feeling of being completely consumed by something. The feeling of losing yourself, of surrendering your body and soul into it. The feeling of control slipping from you but still knowing that you're still the one swaying the tides.
For a few precious minutes, there were no grades to worry about, no expectations to meet, no responsibilities waiting for her after the competition ended. There was only movement and music and the exhilarating certainty that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
As the routine builds, she feels confidence settle in her chest. Not arrogance, not hope, but the simple recognition that everything is working the way it should. Every formation lands cleanly. Every transition is sharp but controlled. The timing holds. The team is not just performing; they are locked together in a rhythm that feels almost unbreakable. For a brief stretch of time, she allows herself to think that this might be one of their best runs yet.
They move into the final sequence, and the music begins to climb.
Miu’s breathing stays steady even as the intensity increases. Her focus is absolute again, the world reduced once more to movement and timing. Then something shifts, subtle at first, like a pull at the edge of her awareness that does not belong to the choreography. It is not loud, not disruptive, but it is persistent in a way that does not fit the pattern of the performance.
She ignores it at first, because she always does.
It returns anyway.
And this time, without fully understanding why, she lets her gaze lift.
It is only a fraction of a second, barely a break in focus, something she would normally correct without even thinking about it. Her eyes pass over the crowd in a single smooth motion, searching for nothing, expecting nothing, and then stop.
Lena is there.
The recognition is immediate, sharp enough to cut through everything else. Miu does not need time to process it; she simply sees her, and the world narrows in a way that has nothing to do with choreography or training. The noise of the hall falls away. The movement of the dancers beside her becomes distant. Even the rhythm of the music feels like it is happening somewhere outside of her body.
Lena is watching her.
Not the team.
Not the performance as a whole.
Her.
And for the first time in the entire routine, Miu feels something slip.
A single moment of attention that does not belong to the floor anymore, and in that moment, her balance changes in a way she recognizes too late.
Her body continues the movement, but something in her timing is already gone.
And before Miu could anticipate it, her ankle buckles and she's on the floor.
_____________________
“You want company? I promise I'll be quiet.” Lena hears Jane ask while slinging her arm around Lena's neck.
With Jayna still stuck in detention for fouling some girl in a basketball game, Lena figures Jane asked because she had time to waste while she waited for Jayna to get out. The question prompts a laugh out of Lena.
Usually, Lena would stay and wait for her friends too. But her eyes had swept over their kitchen the morning earlier and noted how empty it was, so she checked their fridge and found that it was near spent too.
Mali’s also out of snacks too, and those godforsaken chocolate drinks.
“It’s grocery shopping, lovely. I'm fine. You stay here and make sure our little rabid dog doesn't hurt anyone again.”
We really need to talk about that girl’s violent streak.
Jane laughs in agreement. “Alright, alright. I'll make sure she won't bite anyone. You take care, okay? Tell Mali we said hi and we'll take her for ice cream soon.”
“Have I agreed to that yet?” Lena asks and raises her eyebrow in faux anger.
Jane hugs her anyway. “You know you will.”
“You know I will.” Lena kisses her cheek and turns back to start walking down the hallways.
As she walks the grounds, she thinks of Mali. She seems to always does when it gets a little too quiet and she gets a little too alone. Its not that she minds, if anything, thinking of her sister always brought the most calmness no other thing could. She thinks of what to buy for her later, she thinks of what snacks could Mali want, she thinks of what Barbie movie to watch in case Mali asks when she gets home, she thinks of what Mali might want to eat for dinner so she could buy it in the store or stop for fried chicken on her way home.
Most people would probably assume she holds some form of resentment for her parents for leaving her such heavy responsibility, or to Mali herself for taking away her youth or some shit. For Lena, thinking and taking care of her sister had never been a burden nor a chore. She had always though of Mali as an extension of herself.
If she could just play and take care of Mali forever, she'd gladly do that.
And then she hears loud cheering coming from the gymnasium, startling Lena out of her thoughts.
The tournament. That's today.
Lena bets that Miu and her team are rocking everyone's worlds right now because that's what they do best. You'd think exclusive private schools would rather have a renowned lacrosse team or something but no. Miu’s team is known and considered one of the best in the division. Partly because Miu herself is on the team, but also because her passion genuinely shows from the performances and stages the team puts out.
Lena was never a fan of anything physical, so she doesn’t why her feet seemingly are just moving on their own, following the pull of the noise and the crowd and the presence of someone so palpable you can feel it outside of the gym.
The gym is already loud when Lena steps inside, but it’s not the kind of loud that stays on the surface. It gets under her skin almost immediately, settling in her chest and behind her eyes, like the whole building is breathing too fast. She tells herself she’s only here for a minute. Just long enough to see Miu’ team, then she’ll leave. She doesn’t need to stay. She definitely doesn’t need to get involved.
Still, her feet keep moving toward the stands.
The floor is bright under the lights, almost blinding, and everything feels bigger than it should be—the crowd, the space, the energy of it all. Lena scans the stage without meaning to, already knowing who she’s looking for before she admits it to herself. The blue and white costumes make the team easy to pick out, but Miu is impossible to miss even without them.
Lena can admit that dancers are very hot, but Miu? Miu has always been something completely different. Her energy is radiant and domineering.
God! Her legs look so good in that leather skirt.
Snap out of it.
The team is already mid-routine, and Miu is moving like she belongs exactly where she is, like the space around her had to adjust just to make room.
Lena hates that she can seem to notice everything about Miu.
She also hates that no matter how much she wants to look away, all she can see is Miu.
Miu, in the middle of it, looking the most like the person she's always meant to be.
Miu doesn’t just move with the others—she pulls the eye without trying. Every time Lena thinks she’s focused on the team as a whole, her attention drifts right back to her. Miu's movements are clean, controlled, almost too perfect in a way that feels unfair, like she’s not really obeying the same rules as everyone else.
And worse, she looks happy.
Lena has never seen Miu smile so genuinely before and she can feel it tugging in her chest.
I can't take my eyes off her, not even for a second.
Looking at her now, it would be impossible to think of her breaking someone’s hand—but she did. It’s all I can think about.
Lena feels like she’s seeing something she wasn’t supposed to witness.
Believe Lena when she says her mind has been yelling at her to get moving and leave.
She should be thinking of going by now, her sister is waiting.
Instead, she’s watching Miu shift into what looks like a complicated formation to finish the routine off.
For a second, everything holds. The formation is perfect, the timing exact.
Lena becomes too aware of the breath she’s holding and takes a deep inhale to center herself.
Then Miu looks at her.
It’s small. So small Lena almost convinces herself she imagined it. But it feels direct anyway, like out of everyone in the entire arena, Miu's eyes landed exactly where they shouldn’t have.
Lena’s thoughts snag on it.
Why is she looking at me?
It’s subtle at first, just a fraction of imbalance, something that could be fixed if the moment passed cleanly.
Suddenly, the formation breaks.
For half a second, Lena doesn’t understand what she’s seeing. It doesn’t fit with everything that came before it. One moment everything is controlled, precise, unstoppable—and the next, Miu is on the floor clutching her ankle.
Then her brain catches up.
Oh my God.
She’s moving before she thinks about it, forcing her way down the steps as people around her start reacting too. The noise in the gym changes fast, turning sharp and chaotic, like something has gone wrong that everyone is only now realizing at the same time. Lena can’t see properly anymore—just movement, bodies, someone already calling for help.
Her heart is beating too hard, too fast, like it’s trying to get out of her chest.
Is she hurt?
The thought won’t stop repeating.
She pushes closer, but there are too many people, too many bodies blocking her view. Someone is shouting. Someone else is crying. The routine is gone now, completely broken apart.
And then she sees it—a stretcher being brought in.
Lena stops just short of the edge of the floor, breath stuck in her throat, staring at the space where Miu should be.
____________________
A few hours later, Lena is still outside the nurse's office.
At some point, she stops pretending she actually has a purpose there.
The competition ended ages ago. Most of the teams have already gone home, taking their banners and noise with them, but people keep drifting in and out of the nurse's office. Teammates. Coaches. Friends. Every time the door opens, Lena looks up before she can stop herself.
It's embarrassing.
She should have left.
The grocery list she made during her lunch break earlier sits abandoned on her notes app, she's even called Mali's babysitter to ask her to stay a little longer with her sister.
She should be home right now.
Instead, she's sitting on a plastic chair in a hallway that smells faintly of disinfectant, waiting for news she could easily ask for if she were a normal person.
When Ginny finally walks out carrying a sports drink after seeing Miu, she was almost tempted to come out of where she was hiding and just ask how Miu is,
Lena didn’t. She hid behind a pillar like a creepy stalker for a tabloid.
Eventually the nurse leaves the room carrying a clipboard and a stack of forms. She walks briskly down the hallway without noticing Lena, and the door swings shut behind her.
Lena waits a few seconds.
Then she gets up.
Lena tells herself she only wants confirmation that Miu isn't seriously injured. Once she knows that, she'll leave.
What a weak fucking excuse, Lena.
When she pushes the door open, she is fully prepared to find someone recovering from a concussion.
Instead, she finds Miu sitting comfortably on one of the beds, with her phone in her hand.
For a moment, Lena simply stares.
Miu is leaning against the wall, behind the bedrest with her right leg stretched out, and absently scrolling through something with the relaxed posture of a person waiting for a delayed train. Her hair is slightly messy from the performance, and her costume bears a few scuff marks, but otherwise she looks perfectly normal.
Dear God, this disheveled look is really working for her.
Except for the ice pack resting on her ankle.
Lena gets snapped out of her thoughts when she hears Miu's voice.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Miu inquires, her eyebrow rising in question.
Lena ignores her question. “Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?” Miu looks down on herself. “Devastatingly attractive?”
Lena's eyebrows meet in exasperation from what she's hearing. “No, why do you look fine? You could've hit your hea-”
“Oh calm your tits down, Lena. I stepped wrong and my ankle buckled. It's fine. It happens.” Miu says with a roll of her eyes and puts her phone down.
The knot that's been sitting Lena's chest since the competition loosens all at once, and she lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
Lena continues to stare at Miu, seemingly still waiting for Miu's ankle to actually fall off. “So, you're fine? You're not severely injured?” Lena asks worriedly.
“I mean it's a little sprained but I'll live.” Miu smiles smugly, like she’s so elated that Lena is worried about her and she can see it making Lena angry.
“Good,” Lena says before raising her voice. “Are you fucking stupid?”
Miu's fine with no injury at all, which means Lena doesn't have to be gentle or sweet. She can be angry and worried and berate her for being so idiotic that she almost got hurt.
“What?” Miu questions, bewildered and looking nervous as Lena walks closer.
Her hair is still dishevelled for once, her costume scuffed and Lena is trying very hard to avoid how sexy Miu looks right now.
Lena shrugs that out of her thoughts. “Why the fuck would you lose focus like that—”
“Obviously, I didn't plan to.” Miu cuts me off again in an annoyed tone.
“What made you lose focus?” Lena questions in a holler, raising her voice as our bodies are only inches away from each other.
Lena wants to know what was so important that Miu, who never loses focus, got so distracted today that she almost lost a limb.
How could she be so utterly stupid that she forgot her surroundings? I need to know. More importantly, why do I care so much? Why was fear slicing through every inch of my body when I saw her like that?
“None of your business!” Miu screams back, a vein protruding out of her forehead.
Really? Everything Miu Taechamongkalapiwat does is my business.
“You're so fucking stupid!” Lena screeches out furiously.
Miu narrows her eyes. “What is wrong with you today? I'm not dead, I'm completely fine—”
“Yeah, for now! You still don't know; you could be concussed or something.” Lena flails her hands around trying to make my point.
Second by second, their bodies are magnetizing toward each other, like it's second nature. Anger is coursing through Lena's veins and she can't think straight, all she knows is that her body is moving on its own and she needs Miu to know how unbelievably furious she is.
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“I’m ridiculous? Your ankle literally bent in such an ugly angle!”
“Lena, its a fucking sprain. You of all people should know how small of a deal it is! It's not a big deal.” Miu screeches.
“Of course, you'd think that. You literally broke that girl’s hand like it was nothing!” Lena bellows and Miu's face falls.
“H—how did you know about that?” Shock slices Miu's face in half, her tone maybe even slightly embarrassed.
“I saw it!” Lena scoffs then continues speaking. “Next time you think of committing assault, try locking the door!”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Miu rolls her eyes; Lena can practically smell Miu's cherry ChapStick this close. “Besides, it’s not the same thing.”
“You’re right, that was on purpose, this was just pure idiocy.”
“It was an accident for the love of God!” Miu groans loudly, “That girl had it coming.”
“Oh yeah? Why is that?”
Don’t look at her lips. Don’t look at her lips.
“Because no one hurts you,” Miu blurts out, hands on her hips. Heat rushes to Lena's face, she can’t help it.
As it appears, neither can Miu, because she’s positively flushed.
“Yeah.” Lena clears her throat, trying to contain her heavy breathing. “No one except you right?”
Lena knows its not the same, nowhere the same. Miu didn’t hit Lena because she wanted to hurt her and neither did Lena.
Lena wanted to feel her, every inch and every crevice that belongs to Miu. Lena wanted to show Miu how bothered she makes her; maybe Lena did want to hurt her a little too.
“We fought! It’s not the same thing!” Miu raises her voice, but Lena knows she means that Miu would never hurt her that way.
“Why are we even having this discussion?”
“You’re right, we should be talking about why you were so distracted out there.”
“Why are you so bothered about it?” Miu questions, gritting her teeth.
“Because you bother me.”
“Well, you bother me more.” Miu jabs her finger into Lena's chest. Miu doesn’t move the finger away, not even for a second. It stays firmly planted on Lena's chest and she can’t avoid Miu's gaze.
The sound of heavy breathing echoes throughout the room. Lena's mind is telling her to run far away and not come back, yet Lena can't do anything. She's frozen in place and before Lena can even try to move, Miu has barrelled her way into Lena and plants her lips onto hers.
___________________
I'm kissing Lena Schuett and I never want to stop.
I'm kissing Lena fucking Schuett.
Miu thinks this kiss is everything she's ever fantasized about and more. Lena's lips feel like the air that Miu had been dying to breathe-in every day.
God, is this what kissing feels like for other people?
Miu's thoughts are halted when Lena pulls away from her. Instantly, Miu is alarmed, worried that Lena’s either going to pummel her or be so disgusted that Lena can't even look at Miu.
Lena's panting heavily, her eyes darting toward Miu's lips as she looks bewildered.
“What?” Lena mutters breathlessly. Her gorgeous eyes hold intrigue and confusion is swirling deep within them, like she's piecing together every single encounter they have had from the past.
After all, I hate her, so why did I kiss her?
Miu doesn’t know, but she knows that she doesn't want to stop, not even for a second. She might have to stop though, so Miu steps back and she's about to apologize until Lena leans forward and brashly kisses her back, open mouthed.
Heat pools deep in Miu's belly and her mind melts into a puddle of pure desire. She doesn't waste any time pulling Lena into her, my hands on her waist.
Lena's lips on Miu's and all could Miu think about is how Lena is quenching the thirst Miu's held for her ever since she saw Lena for the first time.
Wait, no! Don't think, just kiss.
Lena's hands are in Miu's hair and she smiles into the kiss as Miu walks her towards the wall, slamming Lena against it. She groans out, kissing Miu back harder and hotter.
We're battling; even while we kiss, we're fighting for control.
All Miu's fighting for is to get her hands on every single crevice and inch of Lena's exquisite body. Her tongue darts out, melting in Lena's mouth and hers does the same. Miu didn't realize kissing could be so perfect; She's never kissed someone so…soft before.
Lena tastes like every messed up thought Miu ever allowed herself to have; like the sun on a warm day and the goose bumps that trail my skin on a cold one. Lena tastes perfect.
“God,” Miu groans into Lena's mouth when she moves her hands to her ass and cups it, making Miu involuntarily grind into her front.
Oh, who am I kidding? It is very voluntary.
“Not God baby, I'm much worse,” Lena responds huskily into my mouth and Miu bites her bottom lip in response, watching her eyes darken.
Every inch of Miu's body is screaming at her to rip Lena's clothes off now, but Miu refrains from doing so—
this is our first kiss after all.
As hot as it is right now, Miu wants it to be just that; a kiss.
Miu's hands move to her neck as she pulls Lena back into her mouth, their lips clashing gently and aggressively at the same time.
“I hope she's okay.” The hushed words coming from outside the nurse's room startle Miu and she instantly pulls herself away from Lena.
Lena looks confused, until the door opens and Ginny walks inside, looking between us two, bewildered.
“Lena? What are you doing here?” Ginny questions curiously. They're both heaving and panting and Miu is avoiding Lena's gaze as well as Lena. Lena looks positively nervous. Miu has never seen Lena look so incredibly nervous before.
“I was just coming in to get a band aid f—for something.” Lena stutters out, running a hand through her hair.
God, that's adorable.
The way Lena runs her hand through her hair. How flaming red her face is and how she's stuttering over her words. Lena looks so irrevocably dishevelled and Miu can't even soak in how good that feels.
Because Ginny is staring at them with a smirk on her face. She quirks an eyebrow.
“Okay …” “I'm just…gonna go,” Lena says awkwardly and doesn't give anyone a chance to respond before she sprints out of the room.
“You look flushed,” Ginny comments, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling.
Why is she smiling?
“I think I might be concussed,” Miu dramatically groans, holding her forehead.
No, I'm not. My body barely hit the ground.
Because honestly, just the thought of Ginny knowing what me and Lena were doing is giving me a headache.
Suddenly, Ginny looks worried. “Sit down, I'll go get the nurse.”
What just happened?