Chapter Text
A small pile of cherry blossom petals.
They sit on the floor of a quiet room- untouched and cold. The cherry blossom petals are somehow fresh despite the season, it seems as if they’ve been recently picked. Maybe they were grown unnaturally? There’s no way for a cherry blossom to grow in this cold weather. Maybe they were just preserved very well? They might not be fresh at all. Whatever the case might be, a cherry blossom is a cherry blossom. There’s no one around to complain.
They look natural, after all. It doesn’t matter if anything is actually wrong with them.
Their appearance is normal.
If these petals were to be put with natural cherry blossom petals, they’d blend in with ease. No one would be able to tell a thing. Perhaps a person or two would question, ‘just where did these petals come from?’ But what does that matter? Nothing will be done about it. The petals could continue being there. No one is going to question the petals themselves. That would be plain stupid. If the petals could talk, they’d never tell.
Their scent is normal, too.
The petals fill the room with a sweet, flowery aroma. It’s a nice scent, there’s no doubt about it- perhaps the comforting smell of a friend, or the perfume of a family member- it’s something undoubtedly recognizable. It’s so familiar that you can’t feel an ounce of fear. It’s the only thing keeping the room from being horrifying.
Other than those petals, the room is almost completely empty.
The room is dimly lit by one singular light, held up by the ceiling it was made with. The walls are a solid shade of grey. There are no posters, or beds, or cozy furniture. It’s just a room. If someone lived there, they must have been a very miserable person. There’s nothing fun, nothing to do. There’s only blank space. Using one’s imagination is impossible when there’s nothing to even think about.
Other than the four walls enclosing it, there is a singular chair in the middle of the room. A beautiful, wooden chair- it looks as if it was handmade by someone with care. Despite its obvious brown color, there are stains on it.
A rich red color has found its way into the room.
“What is your goal, again?” a woman speaks, breaking through the unsettling silence. She shoves her hands into the beautiful pile of petals, destroying the once neat bunch. Her hair is a greenish color, and she wears a white coat. Her appearance contrasts the rest of the room heavily. “Tell me, what is it that you were made for?”
“I was made to blend in,” the boy in front of her says, “I was created.. for that.”
The boy is sitting on the chair. He kicks his legs back and forth slowly. His body composure makes it obvious he’s at least a little nervous.
He has pretty pink hair with cute rosy cheeks. Though his face is covered by half his hair, one of his eyes is in sight- and it’s beautiful. With a dazzling pinkish color with hints of orange and teal, his eyes are like no other. They’re not like anything anyone has ever seen before. He’s special, or at least that’s what he’s been told. He’s different from everyone else.
Regardless of this beauty, however, in his chest lies an open wound right where his heart should be. There are a few petals falling out of it. Cherry blossom petals.
He does nothing about the wound. He sits there and lets the woman in front of him talk. If she doesn’t talk, then he doesn’t talk. After all, he has nothing to say.
“Good,” the woman nods, praising the boy in front of her for getting the correct answer. “Who are you blending in with?”
“Humans,” the boy responds, “I’m blending in with humans.”
Despite his human appearance, that boy is not real.
Who knows what he is? He has the body of a human, that’s for sure. His looks say it all. His sweet candy scent makes it obvious, too. It’s not like a horrible monster would look and smell this way. In his mind, he’s one big contradiction. He doesn’t know what he’s really supposed to be. The woman does, though, and he’s certain. She did this for a reason. She helped bring him back.
Or rather, she helped bring him to life.
For she was the one who put life into his hands, after all. A life- a body- of a boy he didn’t want was given to him of all people. She gave him this, he should be grateful. But he can’t bring himself to ever feel the need to thank her. He can’t feel the need to want this at all.
“That’s right,” the woman is blank. Her face is hard to read, the boy notes. It’s like she either can’t express emotion or doesn’t have any at all. “Now, do you remember what will happen to you if your secret gets out?”
“I, uhm..” the boy mutters, looking away. He bites his lip, and tilts his head- but none of that could make him say the words. He doesn’t want to say them.
“You’ll disappear.”
“Yeah,” he mutters, “I’ll disappear.”
Even if he doesn’t want this life, he can’t bring himself to consider the thought of losing it. He feels guilty for the body he has, and the boy it belonged to- but he needs this body. It’s the only thing keeping him alive. Without it, he wouldn’t exist at all.
“With too much human emotion, this heart of yours will take over the rest of your body. That’s what will cause your existence as a whole to cease,” the woman shakes her head. Her hands are stained the same red color as the rest of the room. She’s shoving petals into the boy’s chest. Into his heart. The creation looks down at it. It’s beating, probably. Is it even real? It’s not human, that’s for sure. “So be careful, don’t let any human affect you too much.”
“Okay,”
“Well, that should do it,” the woman gets off her knees and wipes her dripping hands against her white coat. The boy watches it stain with a cringed up look on his face. Despite being a fake, his human emotion is on point. His personality has already developed so much. “These petals won’t wilt unless you go against our rules. Though we have to confirm everything to make sure you’re well enough to go out.”
“I wanna leave already,” the creation whines a little, “I’m fine like this, the humans won’t be able to tell a thing, just-”
“Nonsense,” the woman crosses her arms, “It’s about time we let him see you. He’ll be performing the last check ups.”
“What?” the creation gets up from his chair, his motions swift and startled. Like first instinct, his hands cover the wound on his chest. “No, I don’t.. I don’t wanna!”
“You’re already expressing so much raw emotionnn!” a new boy enters the room. He has dark hair and orange eyes. He has a white coat, too- just like the woman. Except he’s nothing like her. He’s scary. He breathed life into the boy’s hands. He wants to rip it out, too. “You’ve got so much potentiaaal!”
“Ah, you’re here already.” the woman turns towards him, “I was just saying about how-”
“No!” the creation hisses. He has no position to be rejecting this, and he knows this. Without his creators, the creation is nothing. He’s nothing more than a memory- a petal to their huge array of bouquets. Doing this will be a mistake. He does it anyway. “Move!”
“Oh, wowww!”
“Ah..” the woman watches as the boy pushes past the two and out through the door. He runs in such a flimsy manner, but no one laughs. “There he goes again.. I’ll call to get someone to retrieve him before he somehow gets out.” she sighs, “He won’t be able to get too far, anyway. It’s quite easy to-”
“Don’t bother,”
“Hm?” she furrows her eyebrows. It’s the most emotion she’s shown so far. Maybe she cares about the creation? It’s hard to tell. “But if all goes wrong, then he’ll-”
“He’ll die,” the boy shrugs, “It’s a shame.. he’s our most human! But you know what that means? He’ll also be the most rebellious.. just like other humans. That just makes him more authentic, don’t ‘cha think?”
“I suppose you’re right..” the former sighs, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be letting him roam around in this state. The wound will close soon due to the petals, but that shirt of his is stained in blood. It’s impossible to predict what sort of people he’ll run into,”
“So what if he runs into a human or two? Maybe someone will feel bad for him and.. I dunno, take him in! Then he’ll come back to us and tell us everything he’s learned.. and we can make a new one based on that stuff.”
“When he comes back?” the woman blinks, “How can you be so sure he’ll return at all?”
“Trust me,” the boy snickers, “Mitsuba is coming back.”
“Hello? Oh! Yes, I’m still coming over. Sorry, I’m a little delayed- I was brushing my teeth, and.. Oh? Tea? Yeah, that sounds nice! But you really don’t have to, that isn’t necessary- eh? Yeah! Okay, I’ll be safe on my way there- see you!”
Kou Minamoto is 17 years old. He’s a normal high school student who does normal things like everyone else.
He sticks out his tongue as he slips on his chunky, blue sneakers. It’s part of his signature look, he wears them with every outfit.
He’s a pretty happy guy. He doesn’t really have much to complain about- he hasn’t suffered as much as the people around him, so he doesn’t like to complain. He doesn’t like getting deep into detail about himself. He’d much rather encourage and talk about anyone else. Things are better that way. He’s on his winter break, anyway. He has no reason to be sad.
He’s got good friends, a loving brother, a funny sister, a cool brother-in-law- he gets along with everyone in his town just right. Even when people confuse him for another Minamoto, Kou always shines through one way or another. His determination is unmatched even if he feels inferior to everyone around him. He’s bright like that.
He slips on one of his favorite green jackets with a warm smile. It’s winter, which means it’s Kou’s least favorite season. It’s brought him misfortune, loss, misery- but he would rather avoid thinking about those things. There’s no point in thinking about the past. Kou always makes sure to tell himself he’s over it. He looks at himself in the mirror, gives himself a bright smile followed by a thumbs up- and then he’s ready for a day in the worst season. It’s routine for him. (It’s pathetic..)
“Keys, jacket, phone..” he rambles to himself, shoving his hands through his pockets. “Extra money, my wallet.. ah, wait! My gloves!” he rushes back into his room and goes straight through his drawers. He’s already running late, and he doesn’t want to take any longer than he needs to. He hates making people wait.
Though his hand brushes against a picture and he can’t help but stop what he’s doing.
“Ah..”
He blinks.
He picks up the picture and stares at it with a pitiful look on his face. A look of guilt, perhaps sorrow- who knows what it may be. He lets out a little sigh before pressing a little kiss onto the photograph.
“I hope you’re doing well,”
He puts the photo into his pocket before finally getting the gloves he was looking for. He slides them on with ease, and only then is he ready to go out.
“Wait, the cupcakes!”
He rushes right back inside the house. Then he’s ready to go out.
(The photo is of a boy he can barely recognize. A boy he met years ago.. yet still holds dear in his heart. He’ll never forget. He never wants to.)
“Someone’s gotta deal with all this snow..” Kou whines as his chunky shoes are forced to trudge through the snow. It’s not snowing, thankfully- otherwise he’d be upset, but it had snowed the night before. Screw winter and its weird frozen things. Kou wished it were summer already- or at least spring that way he wouldn’t have to deal with this much junk. “Ah.. hey!”
Through the snow, Kou can see the outline of a person. They seem to be sitting under a dead tree all by themselves. Kou squints to try and get a better view, but his eyes fail to search that far. The only thing he can really see is blurs of pink and white.
“Excuse me! Over here!” he raises his arms up into the air, shaking them side by side like the true embarrassment he is. He does his best to receive the attention from the stranger under the tree. Thankfully, it works. Kou can feel eyes staring at him. “Are you stuck?! Do you need any help u- ah..”
As the stranger gets up, Kou can almost feel his heart drop.
It can’t be.
That pretty pink hair, those rosy cheeks, those sparkling pink eyes- Kou almost feels three years younger. He almost drops the bag in his hands in shock.
Even the camera that’s with them is undoubtedly familiar.
“Sousuke..?”
The figure from afar doesn’t seem to hear a thing. They sit back down after realizing Kou isn’t moving- and Kou definitely does not allow himself to get any closer. If he does, he doesn’t know how he’ll react. His heart can’t take seeing something like this. His mind can’t take it, either.
This can’t be Sousuke. At least not someone Kou knows.
If someone’s playing a sick joke on him, he really hopes they regret it. Karma is real and it’ll get them. It’ll get them good.
Kou swallows thickly as he shakes his head. That’s a bad way of thinking- Teru always told him that petty revenge always resulted in some sort of freak accident. Instead of taking it out on this random person, he should just get back to what he’s doing. He continues walking through the snow. He hopes that person is okay.
“Sorry it took me so long, Mitsuba-san! The snow is getting pretty bad, huh?”
“It’s no problem at all, I’m just glad you got here safely! How have you been doing, Minamoto-kun? Anything new?”
“Everything’s been going good, school’s out and graduation is in a few months.. nothing much has changed,” Kou takes off his shoes and leaves them by the door. He walks towards one of the couches, sitting there politely. He’s been there plenty of times. “How about you? How have things been going?”
“Things have been going alright. Now that it’s flu season, the hospital is beginning to get more and more busy.. so I’ve had less time for myself.”
In front of him sits the mother of Sousuke Mitsuba. She has dark hair that’s put into a ponytail- and her eyes have an uncanny resemblance to the boy Kou knows. Kou has always told Sousuke he looks like his mother, and he’s never been wrong. He can’t help but laugh when Sousuke would tell him to shut up with a flustered face.
“I see..” Kou hums, holding the bag he brought with him on his lap. He places it on the small glass table in between him and Sousuke’s mom. “Happy birthday, by the way. I made sure to bring you a cupcake,”
“Oh, how kind of you!” the woman offers a nice, warm smile. She reaches into the bag, and pulls out a small container of two cupcakes. She only grabs one of them. “I haven’t really had the time to celebrate today. It’s been very quiet in the house, aha..”
Kou knows that already. She never gets to celebrate her birthday, but he refuses to mention it for her sake. She already spends so many holidays alone, she doesn’t need anyone to rub it in her face.
“Well, uh,” Kou reaches over for the container, “I brought a cupcake for Sousuke, too..”
“Did you now?” Sousuke’s mom smiles a little more. She turns her head. “You should go give it to him. You know where everything is,”
“Of course,” he takes the other cupcake out of the container. The cupcake is vanilla with just the right amount of frosting on it, otherwise Sousuke would throw a fit about it. Everything had to be a specific way with him. Kou loves that, though. He loves how petty Sousuke was. How dramatic the boy could be. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
When Kou gets up, he makes his way into a different room of the small apartment. The room is quiet. A wave of sorrow aims straight for Kou’s heart. It pierces it with ease.
“Here you go, Sousuke.”
Kou places the cupcake onto a shrine. He kneels in front of it, and clasps his hands together. His knees gently press into the ground as he closes his eyes.
He takes a deep breath.
“It’s been three years,” he whispers, “so I hope you’re doing well. I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I just stopped showing up.. and I never plan on doing that, obviously,” he shakes his head slightly, “But I wish.. I could see you one more time. Maybe say some stuff you can actually hear, since you’d be able to respond.”
He lets out a little sigh. He really can’t believe it’s been three years without Sousuke- he feels like it was just yesterday when he saw everything on the news. He can remember Teru holding him as he sobbed. He can remember Satou and Yokoo trying to cheer him up. He can remember Nene bringing him gifts. He was miserable for so long. He wishes he could forget. He didn’t want to let himself be upset for that long.
“Your mom’s been doing good,” he mutters, “Well, like.. not good, because she still really misses you- but she’s been doing her best to handle everything. Satou and Yokoo..” he pauses. Those two can barely remember Sousuke at all. “..well, they miss you, too. Things haven’t really been the same.. even if I really want them to. But that’s fine, I mean.. time goes on, and stuff. I know you’d disagree with me, but that’s just how things are.. uh,”
He thinks for a moment. Usually he has a sweet and heart touching speech whenever this specific day comes- but his mind seems to go blank. So he decides to speak about what’s on it. It’s not like Kou will get a response, but he likes speaking this way.
“I saw someone who looked like you today,”
His memory floods with an unknown boy by the frozen cherry blossom tree. The memories are fresh, like a flower that just bloomed within his mind. He’s not sure if he wants to forget that, too. Will he feel regret over whoever that is? Will he feel guilt for not helping them if they were in danger? He doesn’t know. He hopes not. He’s not sure how much more guilt he can handle.
“I thought for a second, I would get to hold you in my arms again. I confused them for you so easily, I think I had hope..” he laughs a little, before letting out a pathetic sigh. “But I know that’s never going to happen. Whoever it was.. I hope something bad happens to them because they were impersonating you. You’d say something like that, wouldn’t you? Ha..” he whines, “..because they have your style, and stuff.. copying you, they could never be as cute, right? ‘Cuz you’re the cutest,”
He bites his lip.
He can’t really hold back, can he?
“I miss you,”
He blurts out.
“I miss your hair, and your eyes,” he rambles, “And they way you smelled like sweets all the time, and the way you looked.. and the way you acted-” he cuts himself off, “I’m sorry,” he prevents himself from talking too much. Sousuke’s mom is still waiting for him, he’s not going to get too emotional. “I just wish.. we could’ve been something. Maybe I could’ve been with you when you left that day. Maybe I could’ve held your hand and stopped you from crossing, or tell you to stay home and make something else.. did it really have to turn out this way?” he slowly slides his hands down. “Gahh.. sorry, again. If you heard me say all of this stuff now.. you’d tell me to stop being such a loser. That’s all I had to say today,”
He stands up from his spot, brushing his hands against his clothing.
“See you later, Sousuke.”
He leaves the cupcake there. He knows Sousuke’s mom will probably eat it or throw it out later- whatever it is, he hopes Sousuke knows that he made it specifically for him.
Because Kou will always be there for him. He’ll never move on.
“Ah? Back so soon, Minamoto-kun?”
“Yeah,” Kou nods as he sits back onto the couch he was on before. “I.. didn’t know what to say, so I just talked about stuff I did. I dunno if he’d like listening to that, though,”
“I see,” Sousuke’s mother places a cup full of tea on the glass table in front of them. She slides it in Kou’s direction, and he takes it. “I’m sure Sousuke would be very happy knowing you’re still coming around, no matter what you’re saying to him.”
“I’d hope so,” Kou blows onto the tea before taking a small sip from it. A nice, comforting warmth fills his mouth- he doesn’t really drink tea unless he’s here. It’s nice to relieve himself like this every now and then. “It’s not like I ever plan on stopping.. Sousuke really means a lot to me,”
“And I’m very glad he does,” the former smiles a little, “He’d be graduating with you this year, I’m sure his love for photography would have gotten him so far..”
“It would have, I think.” Kou shifts a little. The more he thinks about Sousuke, the more upset he becomes- and he doesn’t seem to understand why he feels the way he does. “Is there any chance.. I could look through his old camera? Just for the memories, since.. He carried it around with him everywhere.”
“His camera? Oh..” Sousuke’s mother shakes her head with a sigh, “Sousuke’s camera has been long gone, I’m sorry, Minamoto-kun. I looked everywhere for it, though I could never find it.. I think he might’ve had it with him the day he went out.”
“Ah..” Kou frowns, “Well, that’s okay. He was always really protective of that thing, I’m not surprised he took it with him to go out.”
“I could give you some of his photo albums, if you’d like?” the woman suggests instead, “Sousuke always took so many pictures, it didn’t matter where he was- he could always find a perfect place. I’m sure he’d love it if I gave one to you,”
“One of his albums?” Kou thinks for a moment. If he was given one of those albums, Sousuke would absolutely hate it. He’d whine about it, kick his feet, and tell Kou he was undeserving of such talent. However, he wouldn’t want to take it back, either. He’d only make it seem like he hated it. In reality, he desperately wanted Kou to see that talent. He wanted Kou to be impressed with his work. “Yeah, I’d love to have one,”
“Alright!” Sousuke’s mom clasps her hands together, “Wait right here for a moment, okay? Feel free to get whatever you’d like in the meantime,”
“Thank you,” the blonde nods, watching as she leaves in a rush.
He looks to the side.
On a table nearby, there’s a handful of pictures of Sousuke when he was younger. Pictures with his family, on his own, with awards- there’s all sorts of pictures. Kou didn’t know Sousuke when he was this young, but a part of him wishes he did. Maybe Sousuke wouldn’t feel so alone if he had a friend. Sousuke’s mom always rambled about how Sousuke was when he was younger, since Sousuke never wanted to admit anything himself- and Kou doesn’t blame him for that.
The pictures are beginning to collect dust again. It’s sad. He looks to the other side.
On the wall, there are beautiful pictures hung up. Pictures of birds, flowers, beautiful scenery- Sousuke took photos of all of them. Sousuke always had so much natural talent, Kou was never able to understand it. It’s not like he'll ever get to. It’s too late for that.
But the more he thinks about those photos, the more he thinks about Sousuke’s camera.
That boy that he saw earlier, the one with the pretty hair and the unsettling resemblance to Sousuke- he had a camera with him, didn’t he? It looked just like Sousuke’s camera. Kou would know, he spent a lot of time with Sousuke before the two drifted apart.
Maybe that person really is trying to impersonate Sousuke?
Kou instantly frowns at the thought of it. That would be absolutely sick- Sousuke had passed away only three years ago, why would anyone do that? It would be plain cruel to both Sousuke and his loved ones. Talk about disrespect. People know no shame, Teru always told him that.
Whatever that person is planning, Kou just hopes it’s worth hurting everyone over.
“There we go! I brought his most recent album. He never got to finish this one, though.. I’m sure he would have loved for you to see it complete.” Kou looks up when he hears Sousuke’s mother speak to him. He offers a little smile. “This album was made for you, after all- did he ever mention that?”
“Oh, no.. I don’t think he did.” Kou mumbles as he takes the photo album in his hands. On the front of the book, ‘for Kou’ is written in pink ink. Kou assumes it’s one of Sousuke’s glitter gel pens. “Thank you, Mitsuba-san. I’ll cherish it forever,”
Sousuke’s mom smiles in return. She’s always smiling, and Kou can’t help but wonder how she does it. “Sousuke would be really happy hearing that. I remember him spending every day making sure everything was just right in that album..” she turned towards the window, “Oh, dear, it looks like it’s starting to snow out there..”
“Is it? I should get going, then. I’ll look through the pictures as soon as I’m home, I promise. I don’t want any of the photos falling out,” Kou stands up from his seat, holding the album close to his chest. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay very long, I just don’t want to walk home in the snow..”
“Hm? Oh, don’t you worry about it one bit. I’m glad you were able to come over,” the former reassures, walking over to the front door with Kou. She opens the door for him, standing aside kindly as he slips his shoes and gloves back on. “Come back soon!”
“I will! Happy birthday again, Mitsuba-san!”
“Thank you, Minamoto-kun! Get home safely,”
Kou smiles as they bid their farewells. He leaves the warm apartment, leaving behind Sousuke once again.
Kou whistles softly on the journey back home. He passes by the dead tree, but he doesn’t bother looking at it. Who knows what it will do to his heart? He’s not in the mood to be dealing with that sort of thing. He keeps walking along. The person on the hill doesn’t make a noise, anyway.
He checks his phone with one hand, and holds the album securely with the other. His phone doesn’t have a single notification on it. On this day, no one wants to talk to him other than maybe Teru and Sousuke’s mother. Kou doesn’t blame them, he’s gloomy the entire time. He doesn’t want to bring everyone’s mood down.
When he gets home, he lets out a little sigh. He’s not welcomed by warmth, or comfort- just silence. He kicks off his shoes and goes straight to his room.
He sits on his bed, gently placing the photo album he holds in front of him. He opens it up, not expecting what to find.
“Ah..”
He sniffles.
There are pictures of popsicles, the sea, some flowers.. all that have a great symbolic meaning to both of them. The two popsicle flavors they always got, the place they always went for photos, the flowers they failed to grow together- Kou smiles even if these memories make him sad.
His hand brushes over one specific photo, though. His breathing makes an abrupt stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
There’s a photo of the cherry blossom tree.
It has to be some sort of weird coincidence, right? As the stranger under the tree makes no appearance in the photo, and the tree seems to be healthy while blossoming just fine. Kou doesn’t know why Mitsuba would include that in an album for him. Kou’s never said anything about that tree, and neither of them have gone near it.
Kou feels a slight discomfort bubble up inside of his chest. He closes the photo album and slides it under his bed. It’s getting late, anyway. He went out to Sousuke’s place during the evening and arrived at night. It’s best he just gets rest rather than letting himself be hung up over something stupid.
He can’t stop thinking about it, though. Who was that stranger? Why did they have such a strong resemblance to Sousuke?
Could it be?
Did Sousuke come back?
No, that’s impossible. After death, there’s nothing but emptiness- Kou’s imagination is just running wild. Maybe that stranger was just his eyes playing with him.
He has no reason to continue thinking about it. The memories will wilt in his head in no time.