GROWING DIFFERENTLY. — MINATOZAKI SANA
❝ you can pay this time. ❞
synopsis — a video. a beautiful girlfriend. the perfect prank. notice — small fluff, idolxnon-idol, written with simplicity. pairing — minatozaki sana x reader ! disclaimer ! this is a work of fiction created purely for entertainment purposes. all events are fictional. while this story may feature public figures, it is not meant to reflect their real thoughts, actions, or relationships. please remember: nothing depicted in this story actually happened.
THE SCREEN FLICKERS WITH A TIKTOK, and you’re immediately hooked by a guy holding a receipt like it’s a bomb about to explode, a nervous grin stretched across his face. “forgot my wallet prank on the loml” the caption reads. the audio hit— a dramatic gasp layered with chaotic laughter, and your shoulders shake from stifled giggles.
the comments scroll by, each one a punchline of chaos:
“she was calculating how long he'll be washing 'em dishes”
“did this once, my gf apparently brought my wallet for me. ”
“bro is not getting lucky tonight.”
you laugh out loud, clutching your phone, and for a second the world feels absurdly bright and silly. the cat jumps at the noise, annoyed, and you pause to pet it absently, still grinning.
your phone buzzes, breaking your focus. sana.
you open the attachment. the mirror selfie hits you instantly. sana is sitting elegantly on the huge black couch, legs casually up, hair down freely, the kind of effortless beauty that makes your chest tighten a little. momo’s in the middle, energy at full volume, double peace signs over her eyes. mina leans casually against the mirror on the left, peace sign over her right eye, that quiet little smile that makes everything look too polished. and sana, of course, is perfect— her grin mischievous in a way that feels like she knows exactly how cute she is.
you snap a picture in return— your laptop open on a ongoing TIME TO TWICE video. somehow having them both on your screen twice at once makes it even funnier. i am clearly a grown adult, this is perfect.
you toss your phone on the bed and stretch, thinking about tonight. alright. she’s going to sit there all calm and cute, thinking everything’s normal… and then, bam. “oh no, i forgot my wallet” you picture her face, that mix of panic, slight indignation, mock outrage, and your lips twitch with anticipation. she’s going to be dramatic. she’s going to absolutely fake-gasp. oh my god.
you peel yourself off the bed and shuffle to the bathroom, towel over your shoulders, muscles still tight from earlier. steam fogs the mirror immediately. you catch your reflection and laugh quietly at yourself. this is ridiculous. why am i already this excited about pretending to be broke?
you finish your shower, hair damp, towel wrapped around you, and glance at your phone again.
sana’s reply is instant.
proof or it didn't happen.
you groan, rolling your eyes dramatically, though there’s a stupid grin on your face.
you drop the phone face-down and start picking your outfit carefully. casual but polished. subtle perfume, soft enough that it’s noticeable only when she’s close. you smooth your shirt, tug your pants, check your reflection.
you slip the phone in your pocket. the flutter in your chest picks up.
you pause in front of the mirror one last time, smooth your hair, tug at your shirt.
the anticipation stretches, soft and delicious. the world outside your apartment is dim and quiet, the perfect stage. and tonight, you remind yourself with a smile.
THE EVENING AIR IN SEOUL WAS COOL AND LIGHT, carrying faint hints of spring blossoms and warm asphalt. you step into the restaurant behind sana, catching the way her brown wavy hair bounces slightly as she moves, the black pants and white tank simple but striking. she slides into the chair with a relaxed smile, and you can’t help but grin.
“so… GRAFF ambassador in Paris next week, huh?” you ask, sitting and then leaning back in your chair.
“yeah,” she says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “launch events, press stuff… supposed to sparkle. no pressure.”
“no pressure,” you repeat with a grin. “you always outshine everything anyway, i mean come on, This Is For comeback, full stadiums, trending everywhere.”
she laughs, eyes lighting up. “don’t flatter me too much. people might start believing you.”
“sure sure,” you say, letting your hand brush lightly against hers on the table.
“you’re impossible,” she says, smirking, tapping your fingers with hers.
you smile gently. “charming. don’t forget charming.”
the waiter arrives, sliding steaming plates across the table — perfectly plated, aromatic, the kind of fancy dishes that feel like an experience. she picks up her fork, eyes glinting, and scoops a bite of something soft and delicate.
she smirks, leaning forward to feed you a small bite from her plate. "baby, taste this."
you watch her, that playful gleam in her eyes, the little smirk, and wow. she’s effortlessly radiant. the kind of person who lights up the room without even trying, you think, swallowing the bite she fed you.
“not bad, right?” she teases. “but i expect desserts soon.”
“whatever my beautiful girl wants.” you reply with a grin, letting your gaze linger.
“and you,” she says, a sly smirk tugging at her lips, “look too good just sitting there. it’s distracting. i might have to kiss you later.”
okay, focus, you remind yourself, though your chest is a little warmer than it should be. she’s gorgeous, she’s playful, she’s laughing — she's… perfect.
the conversation drifts naturally. what happened at her practice, Paris once more, the chaos that'll happen behind the GRAFF launch— and of course her teasing that doesn’t stop. she takes a bite of her food, then grins. “hmm, not bad. maybe you’re spoiling me too much tonight,” she quips.
“impossible,” you reply, leaning in just enough to brush your arm against hers under the table. “someone’s got to. and you look like you deserve it.”
she chuckles softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “you look… way too cute right now. it’s unfair.”
after a while of small talk (flirting), you wave down the waiter, while wiping your mouth with a napkin. thinking of the small prank, you internally grin like an idiot.
the waiter arrives with the bill, sliding it across the table, and leave with a small bow. you reach into your pocket. nothing. pat the other pocket. still nothing.
you look at her, trying to stop the ridiculous smile creeping in. "my love, i must've forgotten my wallet..."
her eyes widen. “wait... what?”
you pat your empty pockets, shrugging like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “eh.. it's fine, you can pay this time.”
sana blinks at you. "baby."
"yes..?" you blinked back.
“you’re joking.” she huffed, eyes squinting.
“why would i joke about woman empowerment?” you answer smoothly, like it’s the most logical thing in the universe.
her eyebrows shoot up, and her mouth opens slightly. “i... what?”
“think about it,” you continue, leaning back, grinning. “you’ve been running the world lately— twice-successful comeback, stadiums screaming your name, ambassador trip to paris for graff… i think you can handle a dinner bill. moral support only goes so far.”
sana frowns, her lip twitching. “that’s… rude.”
“rude?” you echo, pretending to be scandalized. “nah, it’s me growing. letting others contribute sometimes.”
“growing... cheap,” she mutters, voice dripping with playful judgment, though there’s that subtle disappointment you know too well.
her disappointment isn’t about money, she’s richer than you’ll ever be, a fact she could never let you forget. but… this is the part that makes her flustered: minatozaki sana loves being spoiled.
the way you insist, the little gestures, the exaggerated chivalry. she loves the princess treatment, and right now it feels... withheld. it makes her want to whine, pout, and maybe kick you under the table, all at once. she hates that it gets her like this.
“you always pay,” she says, sighing, mock scandal in her tone. “every date, every meal... and now… now you’re trying to grow cheap? you’re breaking my heart and our unspoken rules at the same time.”
“okay,” you say, laughing, leaning closer. “you did say you wanted to treat me once in awhile.”
sana groans, throwing her napkin down, getting her prada bag with a HUGE frown. “i hate you.”
“love you too,” you reply, winking. “but also, obviously, i’m paying.”
her eyes widen, and she her hand freezes, like you’ve just declared war. “wait… what?”
you pull your black card from your wallet with a flourish, laughing. “surprise. princess treatment restored. don’t worry, your empire is safe.”
sana huffs, crossing her arms, pouting, her cheeks pink. “i can’t believe this. i can’t even... you’re insufferable.”
“yeah, but admit it,” you tease, the waiter come backs, and you hand your card to him. “you missed it already, didn’t you?”
“hmph,” she mutters, leaning back with the tiniest whine. “i did not miss it. i just... can’t believe you.”
you grin, reaching across the table, catching her hand in yours. “oh, come on, you're still not used to this?”
she drags her hand from the table, still pouting, but lets you hold it. “you’re ridiculous,” she says, but there’s laughter in her tone now.
“hey,” you say, tugging her gently as you rise, “you can pay me back… with kisses.”
sana scowls, but there’s a small smirk, an inevitable warmth creeping over her. “seriously? that’s your payment plan?”
“absolutely,” you grin. “i accept those simple payments.”
she groans again, letting herself be pulled along. “i hate you. and i love you. you know that, right?”
“yep,” you say, squeezing her hand once, the chaos of the night softening into something warm. “all part of the plan.”
kino's note — first and foremost, kino would like to wish happy christmas and happy new year's eve! a tragic year i've had—i lost my passion for writing. the only reason i kept going was because of my journalism. but, pushing through led to my burnout. and it took a toll. now this fic stands as it is— as you can see it's not overly descriptive, something i'm slowly adjusting to. i’ve learned that not everyone enjoys long, ahh heavy writing, and that’s okay. as 2026 creeps in, i'd genuinely like to get back into fanfiction, rather than writing about news, and travels all day., but that might just me be ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ kino would like everyone to take care, and always stay strong. kino going to bed.
