Tsukiko Takahashi's day began with her phone vibrating under her pillow because she'd once again slapped it off the bedside table in her sleep. She blinked awake, hair a mess, drooling on her sleeve, looking nothing like the girl who'd be ruling the badminton courts two hours later. She sat there for a moment, silently judging the universe, then dragged herself up and shuffled to the kitchen.
Her mom had left her a neatly packed breakfast. Tsukiko poked at it like it had offended her. Mornings were her natural enemy, and the feeling was mutual. Still, she ate quickly, tied her hair into a high ponytail, grabbed her racket bag, and marched out like she was late to save the world.
By the time she reached school, the transformation was complete. Hair perfect. Eyes sharp. Smile dangerous. If someone looked at her now, they'd never believe she'd nearly walked out wearing mismatched socks.
Her friend group spotted her instantly. Three girls, each loud in their own way, waving at her like she was a celebrity returning from a world tour.
"Tsukiko! You took forever!"
"Your ponytail is so cute today!"
"You won't believe what happened in Class 2-C!"
She was surrounded before she reached the shoe lockers. They peppered her with gossip like excited sparrows. Tsukiko listened with that sly little grin she kept for moments like these. She didn't interrupt. She didn't need to. A raised eyebrow from her could derail an entire story. A teasing comment could melt someone on the spot.
They walked together to class, talking about nothing and everything: a teacher's new haircut that looked suspiciously like a mop, the school cafeteria running out of melon bread again, and a rumor that someone from the baseball club had confessed to a third-year during lunch break yesterday.
Tsukiko hummed thoughtfully at that one. She collected school rumors the way some people collected keychains.
Classes were… well, classes. Tsukiko paid attention enough to avoid trouble, but her mind always drifted to the court. Between lessons, she doodled tiny shuttlecocks on the corner of her notebook. When the teacher called on her unexpectedly, she answered flawlessly, smirking at her friends' shocked faces.
And then there was lunch.
The four girls had claimed a particular sunny bench in the courtyard ages ago. While her friends bickered over snacks, Tsukiko leaned back, enjoying the breeze. Every so often, someone from another club would pass by and greet her. A few boys waved a little too enthusiastically. She responded with a polite nod, pretending she didn't see her friends exchanging mischievous looks.
"They're totally staring at you," one whispered behind her hand.
Tsukiko swatted her lightly. "Eat your curry bread."
After school came practice, the best part of her day.
The gym echoed with the squeak of shoes and thwack of shuttles. Tsukiko was in her element here. Her movements sharpened, her focus locked in. She wasn't just good. She was terrifyingly good.
And Masaru Kyo matched her without missing a beat.
He tossed her a water bottle during breaks. He adjusted the straps on her racket bag when they slipped. He argued with her about footwork like they were an old married couple. And naturally, the entire club watched them like they were living out a romance drama.
Tsukiko just rolled her eyes. Masaru was steady, supportive, annoyingly perceptive, and the closest thing she had to a boyfriend according to everyone with a pulse. But they weren't a couple. Not even close.
When practice ended, her muscles burned. She loved that feeling. She and Masaru walked out of the gym together, not because they planned it but because it always ended up that way. Her friends waved at her from down the hallway, and she jogged toward them, swinging her racket bag while Masaru stayed behind to lock up.
They walked home chattering about snacks, upcoming exams, and whether Tsukiko should wear her hair down tomorrow.
She laughed the whole way.
By the time she crawled into bed, legs sore, mind buzzing, she felt content. Exhausted, but satisfied. Her life was busy and noisy and full, and she liked it that way.
And somewhere under all that chaos, she knew exactly who she was.
Popular. Talented. Mischievous. Focused.
Tsukiko Takahashi, queen of the badminton club.
And she wasn't planning to slow down for anyone.