strawberry lemonade

honey or sugar to taste

Leon blamed the cool air and the rush of the play for his restless feet.

He peeked up at the bleachers when he didn't think anyone else was sparing him a thought, and every time he looked he was always surprised she was still here. At the game. Wearing his sweatshirt that fit her just short of snug.

Hoooooo boy.

And now they had to win tonight. Not that the team hadn't been trying to do that since the beginning, because Northeast could suck their dicks, but this was probably Sakura's first game and like hell he was going to give a disappointing show.

So if he just so happened to play more aggressively and happened to stop an interception with a tackle so full of oomph it could rival one of the Boulder's, he could blame that on wanting to hear the howling cheers from the rest of the team on the sidelines.

::

"Looks like getting run into the ground by Redfield and your coach paid off," Sakura mused as she leaned over the barrier separating the field from the stands. There was a chain dangling from one cartilage piercing down to the earlobe, and the high neck of her forest green shirt poked out of his sweatshirt's wide collar.

Oh no, she looks like an adorable pumpkin.

"What if it was those nuggets I had last night?"

"Ah. How could I forget," she remarked dryly. "A meal of champions."

"I'm built on Sweet n' Sour sauce and this win just proved that you can't tell me any different," he shrugged. Her lips quirk, and his eyes unintentionally traced the motion.

"I think you gave someone a concussion."

"Did I look cool?"

"Taylor from English almost fainted from how much she was screaming, so I would think so."

Leon glimpsed over his shoulder and at the lingering cheerleaders across the field to see them staring his way and whispering to each other behind their poms poms, giggling every now and again. He rubbed the back of his head and turned to Sakura, who looked as amused as she could with her usual, pretty aloofness.

The first time he'd seen her was in AP World History their sophomore year. It was about a month into the year and it had already gone around school that there were a few transfer students joining this year, freshly moved from Japan and starting their first day on some day that wasn't Friday. Kiba and Shino hadn't been in the same period as her, and he'd never forget her introduction as she stood in front of the class of Mr. W's beckoning of 'you just need to say your name and a fun fact about yourself.'

Face blank, tone even, and hair shockingly pink, she'd said with just the faintest accent, "My name is Sakura Hoshigaki, and my fun fact is that I'd like to sit in the back."

"Y'know, I think one of the guys has a crush on her. He might be thinking of asking her out to the Winter Formal in a couple months," he mentioned off-handedly and shit, the Winter Formal. It wasn't really the season to have any dance-posals, but maybe around then he'd be able to ask—

"Hey, Back Row," a new voice greeted, and it took all the rest of Leon's energy not to sink down as Chris sauntered over with a half-confused smile and his black helmet tucked under one arm. "I didn't think I'd see you around here."

Sakura tipped her head. "Redfield. I was in the area."

"Huh. Well, I guess I've only really seen you in Vasquez's class." Chris turned to Leon and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. "We both ended up in art last year and sat at the same table. I had my headphones in the whole time and she'd sleep from bell to bell."