---

The sound of shuttlecocks hitting rackets echoed through the school’s badminton court. Cheers, laughter, and competitive screams filled the air. It was the annual School Badminton Selection Trials, and the entire Class 12 was either competing… or watching from the sidelines with bated breath.

Standing at the center of it all was Luna Carter—fearless, confident, and unapologetically bold. Her ponytail swung behind her as she gripped her racket tighter. Her honey-brown eyes burned with determination.

“Alright,” Luna muttered under her breath. “Time to prove... again.”

But her smirk faded the moment a familiar voice pierced the court.

“Move aside, Carter. This court’s not meant for amateurs.”

The words were cold, sharp—like ice needles.

She turned… and there he was.

Zane Blackwood.

Tall, effortlessly cool in his black wristbands, his jet-black hair falling slightly over his deep stormy-grey eyes. His gaze was unreadable, his expression stoic, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

The school bully. The mysterious boy everyone either hated… or secretly admired.

“Oh, it’s you,” Luna scoffed, tossing her racket onto her shoulder. “Didn’t realize trash talked now.”

A faint, almost invisible smirk curled on Zane’s lips. “Funny. I thought trash only made noise, not jokes.”

The tension was instant. The entire court quieted. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

They had always been like this.

Snarky remarks. Fierce rivalry. Constant bickering.

But what no one else knew... was the secret buried deep beneath this hate.

A secret neither of them had spoken about for years.

A secret that started… back when they were just two little kids, in a park, under a cherry blossom tree.

But right now, they were enemies. And badminton? This was war.

“Pair number 7,” the coach called out. “Luna Carter… Zane Blackwood… you're partners.”

Silence.

Utter silence.

Both Luna and Zane whipped their heads toward the coach in disbelief.

“Wait—what?!” Luna gasped. “No. No way. Absolutely not.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zane muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is a nightmare.”

The coach tapped his clipboard. “We’re short on players. Doubles. Both of you are the best in your categories. Deal with it. Unless... you’d rather give up the chance to compete in Nationals?”

Luna’s fists clenched. Zane’s jaw tightened.

There was no choice.

No way either of them was walking away from Nationals.

“Fine,” Zane snapped. “But stay out of my way.”

“Gladly,” Luna shot back. “Just don’t mess up.”

The air around them practically sizzled with electricity as they walked to the court.

---

As the game began, something unexpected happened.

Despite the glares, the silent treatment, and the gritted teeth… their bodies moved in sync. Like muscle memory. Like they'd done this before.

Luna jumped. Zane covered. Zane smashed. Luna countered.

Perfect rhythm.

Perfect flow.

Even they seemed confused by it.

"How...?" Luna blinked mid-game.

Zane didn’t answer. But something flickered in his eyes. Something… nostalgic.

A buried memory.

A little girl in pigtails holding a tiny badminton racket.

A little boy handing her a red hairclip, whispering, “Don’t be scared. We’ve got this.”

The past… was beginning to unravel.

---

When the game ended, the coach clapped. “Perfect. Exactly what I expected.”

But Luna and Zane just stood there, breathless… not from the game.

But from the realization that something between them was far from over.

And neither of them was ready for what came next.

---

To Be Continued...

---

The bell rang, and Luna pushed open the door to Class 12-B, her head still spinning from the shock of the badminton trials.

Zane Blackwood. As her doubles partner.

It felt like the universe had just pulled a joke she wasn’t ready for.

She slumped into her seat, her best friend Rhea raising an eyebrow beside her.

“So? What happened?” Rhea whispered, leaning in. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost when the names were announced.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Worse. I got paired with him.”

Rhea blinked. “Who—? Oh. Zane?”

“Yep. The devil in disguise,” Luna muttered, pulling out her notebook.

Rhea chuckled. “Well, at least he’s hot.”

Luna shot her a glare. “He’s also rude, arrogant, and acts like he invented badminton.”

But her voice faltered.

Because truth be told… when they played, it had felt different. Too natural. Too perfect. Like her body remembered something her mind had long forgotten.

---

On the other side of the classroom, Zane sat in his usual spot by the window, elbow on the desk, chin resting in his hand.

He stared out at the blue sky, but his thoughts weren’t really in the clouds.

“Why does she feel so familiar?”

Luna’s smile, her fire, the way she moved on the court—it was like déjà vu in the worst and best way possible.

He had spent years pushing people away. It was easier. Safer.

But now? She was back.

And she didn’t even know who he was.

---

Flashback.

Ten years ago.

Two small kids sat on a swing set under a cherry blossom tree, their legs too short to reach the ground.

“You don’t have to be scared,” the little boy said, handing the girl a red clip to hold her hair. “I’ll play with you. Always.”

The little girl smiled wide, her eyes sparkling. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

---

Zane closed his eyes and exhaled.

Back then, he had been someone else.

Back then… he was just Zay, a quiet, lonely kid who found comfort in one fearless girl under a pink-blossomed tree.

Luna.

And now she didn’t even recognize him.

Maybe that was for the best.

---

The school day dragged on, but tension crackled in the air.

Luna caught Zane looking at her once—or maybe twice—from across the room.

She glared every time.

When the final bell rang, Coach Walker’s voice echoed in the hallway.

“Luna, Zane! Practice. Gym. Now.”

---

The gym was nearly empty. Echoes of their footsteps bounced off the walls.

Luna threw her bag down with a grunt. “Let’s get one thing straight, Blackwood. We don’t have to talk. We just have to play.”

Zane simply nodded, picking up a racket. “Good. Talking to you gives me headaches anyway.”

“Ugh. You’re impossible.”

“You’re loud.”

Luna marched to her side of the court. “Let’s just see who’s loud when I crush your smashes.”

Zane gave her a glance. A flicker of something like amusement danced in his eyes. “Try me, Carter.”

And then—it began.

Rally after rally. Smash after smash.

Feathers flew. Sweat glistened. Their movements were fast, sharp, and ridiculously in sync.

For enemies, they played like soulmates.

Zane couldn’t stop himself from sneaking glances.

The way her hair moved when she jumped. The fire in her eyes.

Luna didn’t realize she was doing the same.

His focus, the quiet strength, the hurt that flickered behind his eyes when he wasn’t speaking.

But neither of them said a word.

They just played.

Until the sound of a shuttlecock smacking the ground signaled the end of their last rally.

Breathing hard, Luna collapsed onto the bench, wiping her face with a towel.

Zane sat beside her, not too close, not too far.

“I still hate you,” she muttered between breaths.

He shrugged. “Good. That makes two of us.”

But his voice… didn’t sound angry.

And Luna looked at him—really looked. For the first time, something in her heart trembled.

Why did it feel like they’d sat like this before?

Why did his silence feel… familiar?

---

Outside the gym, the sky was streaked with gold and pink.

Neither of them noticed they were walking home in the same direction.

Neither said anything.

Until—

“You always wear your hair like that?” Zane asked quietly.

Luna blinked, surprised. “Yeah… why?”

He hesitated.

“No reason.”

Just... a memory.

A little girl. A red clip.

And a promise made under falling cherry blossoms.

---

To Be Continued...

Luna sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through her camera roll, swiping past silly selfies, notes, and pictures of the sky.

Her finger hovered over a photo she had taken last spring—cherry blossoms falling across the school’s old courtyard.

It always made her chest ache a little, though she didn’t know why.

She brushed it off and dropped the phone beside her.

Just then, Rhea’s text popped up.

Rhea: Did Zane murder you during practice orrrr did you two fall in love already? 😏

Luna rolled her eyes and replied:

Luna: Shut up. He didn’t even talk. Like literally mute. Who does that?

Rhea: People who are secretly falling for you 👀

Luna: I’d rather marry a rock.

---

Meanwhile, Zane stood on his balcony, headphones on, strumming his old acoustic guitar absentmindedly.

His fingers moved smoothly, but his thoughts were tangled.

He shouldn’t care.

He shouldn't be curious about whether Luna still liked strawberry milk or if she still smiled with her eyes before she laughed.

But he was. And it was driving him insane.

Because she didn’t recognize him.

And he didn’t have the courage to tell her.

Not after what happened.

---

The next day, the school buzzed with excitement—it was "Flashback Friday."

A themed day where students brought items or pictures from their childhood to pin up on a classroom memory wall.

“Ugh, cringe,” Luna muttered, tossing random old photos into her bag as she walked to school.

One fell to the floor.

She picked it up and blinked.

A blurry picture—two small kids on a swing set.

One had long pigtails. The other… jet-black hair.

She didn’t remember who took it.

But something about the boy’s smile tugged at her.

---

In class, students rushed to stick up their memory items.

Zane didn’t participate. Obviously.

He walked in late as usual, hands in pockets, and eyes flicking toward the chaos. He planned to sit down and ignore it all.

Until he saw that photo.

Pinned right in the center of the memory wall.

The swing. The cherry blossoms.

And her.

It was her.

Luna.

His Luna.

He hadn’t made it up. She was the girl from all those years ago.

His heart skipped a beat, and before he could stop himself, he reached into his bag and pulled something out.

A tiny red hairclip—faded and slightly bent, but still holding its shape.

He didn’t pin it. He didn’t show anyone.

He just held it… and stared.

---

Later during lunch, Luna was sitting on the stairs, sipping strawberry milk, flipping through her childhood scrapbook.

She jumped when Zane walked over, looking as emotionless as ever.

“What do you want?” she muttered.

Zane didn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to her.

A red hairclip.

Luna blinked, confused. “What’s this?”

Zane shrugged slightly. “Yours.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t—”

But she froze.

Memories hit her like waves.

The cherry blossom tree.

A swing.

A little boy with stormy gray eyes… whispering,

“Don’t be scared. We’ve got this.”

Luna stared at the clip in her hand like it was magic.

“You…” she whispered.

Zane looked down, his voice quiet. “You forgot.”

“No,” she said, heart pounding. “I didn’t forget. I just… didn’t know it was you.”

Silence fell between them.

A soft, raw silence.

Then she looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Zane hesitated.

“Because people change,” he said finally. “And I’m not him anymore.”

She tilted her head, eyes glimmering. “Maybe not. But he’s still in there somewhere.”

Zane looked at her—really looked at her—and for once, didn’t say anything cold or sarcastic.

Instead, he said softly, “You kept the picture.”

“And you kept the clip,” she smiled gently.

---

For the first time since the school year began… they sat beside each other.

No arguments.

No glares.

Just quiet. And something new beginning to bloom.

---

To Be Continued…