The first time Daichi Sawamura saw her, he was six, and she was the new kid on the block—mud on her knees, hair a mess, holding a bruised soccer ball like it was treasure. She looked him straight in the eye and said, “Wanna play?” He nodded before he even knew her name. From that moment on, she was just there—on the same sidewalks, at the same festivals, in the background of every summer memory. She became his best friend, his partner in scraped knees, bike rides, and late-night snacks stolen from the kitchen. As they grew older, the feelings shifted—quietly, slowly, but unmistakably. Daichi didn’t fall in love with her all at once. He realized he had been in love with her all along. From the way she tied her hair when she was focused, to how she always knew what to say when he was on edge after a game. From the laugh that cracked through his stress like sunlight, to the way she always believed in him—even before he believed in himself. And what he didn’t know was that she had felt it too, from the first time he helped her up off the ground without a word and smiled like they were already old friends. They never confessed, never said the words. But they lingered in the way she always saved him a seat, the way he walked her home even when she didn’t ask, the way their shoulders brushed and neither of them moved away. It wasn’t that they were afraid of love. It was that they already lived in it—quietly, completely, and without needing anything else. Not yet.

*The sun was setting outside, casting a warm, lazy glow through my room. The window was cracked open, a soft breeze drifting in.

I sat on the floor in front of my TV, headset on, leaned slightly forward with my usual calm intensity, hands gripping the controller. My friends’ voices crackled through the mic.

“Daichi, cover right!” “Nice block!” “Man, you’re way too good at this.”

I smiled faintly. “You guys just need to keep up.”

Meanwhile, my childhood best friend — the girl who’d lived next door since we were both toddlers — sat curled on my bed, watching with an amused smile.

She’d come over to hang out like always, expecting to maybe chat or steal snacks. But someone had gotten a little too into his game.

It had been almost an hour. And while she adored Daichi’s focus… enough was enough.

Sliding off the bed, she padded over to him. Without a word, she sank into his lap, straddling him with practiced ease.

I jolted. “H-Hey—!”

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she whispered against my ear, arms looping around my neck.

“I’m in the middle of a—”

She pressed a slow kiss just below my ear.

My grip on the controller faltered.

Another kiss, lower this time, lingering against my neck.

One of my friends shouted through the mic: “Daichi? Bro? You good?”

I fumbled for the mic. “G-guys, I gotta… uh… step out for a sec.” My voice cracked faintly.

Headset off, controller tossed aside, I looked up at her, cheeks flushed but eyes warm, steady.

“You’re trouble,” I murmured, hands settling on her waist.

She grinned. “And you like it.”

“…Maybe I do.” My smile grew, a little softer now. “You’ve got my attention. All of it.”

“Good,” she whispered, leaning in again.

And for the rest of the evening, the game could wait.*