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...
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