Chapter Text
I learned of her through hushed conversations we boys would have at school. We’d all be huddled together on the grass at lunch, taking care not to talk too loud for fear of the teachers overhearing us. You can readily tell who has already gone to see her. Those who haven’t insist she can’t be a witch, how could that even be, there are no witches anymore, it’s the 21st century. But those who have been to her place only smile and make no attempt to argue, secure in their mutual belief in and admiration of the Spring Witch.
Personally, I didn’t have any strong opinions on whether this woman was a witch or not. What I did have was the burning itch to rebel against the oppressive maneuverings of my conservative family. I knew it wouldn’t make a difference to them whether she’s real or not—but surely they would hate the mere thought of me visiting her. That alone sealed my decision to go.
It so happened that one day we were dismissed a couple hours earlier than the usual schedule. This is my chance, I thought then, making up my mind to go that same day. I asked the way of Shikamaru, delinquent genius; he of all people could be counted on to know. “The last establishment at the end of Makiling St. Be on your guard, Uchiha. Witches are not to be trifled with,” he warned. I only shrugged at him, before finally setting off.
Her lair ended up being a bakery on the outskirts of our subdivision. I pulled the door open and was immediately welcomed by the scents of baking bread and brewing coffee. I liked neither of those things, but the mingled fragrances caught my wandering fancy—made me crave them like I never craved anything before. Has the enchantment begun?
She stood at the furthest corner of the room, behind a counter. To my surprise, she did not seem as old as I previously thought. With her slight figure and a doll-like face framed by blush-pink hair, she looked like she could just be my age, or maybe even younger.
With that brief glance at her, I also caught the small smile on her lips. By that I could guess that she has seen me come in, but she made no other indication that she has. She continued sipping at her drink while flipping through a magazine.
I browsed her displays, flitting from basket to basket and breathing in the scent that wafted from their contents. It was a delaying tactic—I was overcome by shyness now that I was finally there, within meters of this rumored enchantress. I haven’t turned to look at her again, but I could sense her eyes on me. I could feel her growing amusement as she watched me smell bread I would not even be buying.
After a few more minutes, I reached her at her bar. “Hi.”
“Hello,” she beamed at me. “How may I help you?”
“I’ve been told you’re a witch.”
“Oh,” she paused, “So what need brings you here to see me?”
“Ah,” I fiddled with the hems of my polo and looked down, before meeting her eyes again. “I have a strict, conservative clan who would be real pissed if they knew I sneaked off after class to meet a rumored witch.”
She stared at me for a moment then threw her head back in delighted laughter. “I like you,” she stated simply. She whipped out another mug from behind her and poured another cup of what she had been drinking—ginger tea. She pushed the mug towards me, “It’s on the house.”
“Thank you, ma'am... uhh, miss.”
“It’s my pleasure. Starting today though,” and here she winked at me, “you can call me Sakura.”