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Gentle, hazy, lukewarm puffs of air flew on Akaza’s face as he sat under the Sakura tree. Winter had already passed, and the white snow covering the landscape had left its place to fields of shiny grass and soft-colored flowers.
The Sakura was no exception, covering the ground with his looming presence, dark and dried of life in winter, but radiant and dyed in pink colors during the spring.
It made for the ideal training spot for Akaza. Secluded enough to not be bothered by wandering humans, and providing coverage if he trained for more time than the sun granted him, allowing for a rapid escape into the dark.
“ It’s only this, nothing particular. Nothing more. ” Akaza repeated to himself every time he found himself there, sitting after a long and harsh session of training and that feeling showed up again. Every single time. In that specific time of the year. Thoroughly scattered inside his body, yet perfectly clear. Warm, gentle, like a light caress that wrapped around his entire self, easing his overworked body and kissing the darker thoughts away.
It was a lingering sensation of something he recognized as familiar, but couldn’t recognize what exactly.
Fatigue? No, he never felt fatigue. Maybe, the scent of the flowers spread through the place. No…..it wasn't even that. Because he was sure, perfectly sure, that it came from the inside.
Petals fell from the tree, driven by the course of the wind that winged through the branches and placed themselves onto Akaza’s hair. One placing just on the pale tip of his nose. It only took a small puff for the petal to soar away. To be lost forever in the breeze.
To be muddled with the others and never be found again.
Again.
Maybe it came from a memory?
“Useless.” He sighed. “It’s no use thinking about these things.” They served no purpose . No meaning. They were only a bother .
“Hello, Akaza-dono! “.
Akaza’s train of thought was interrupted by a blonde figure waving at him in the distance. One he was too familiar with, sadly.
“Douma.”
“Were you waiting for long?” He chirped with his usual friendly attitude, sitting precisely next to him, uncaring of whatever boundary Akaza wanted to set. His palm shuddered and ached to form a fist, his entire nervous system already itching at the mere sight of him, but then he sighed and decided to calm himself down. At least only for that day.
“Not really” he turned his face, trying to ignore him. “Just get it done quickly.”
“Don’t be like that, Akaza! It’s our anniversary, isn’t it? We only celebrate it once a year, it’s a special occasion for us.” He moaned and put his arm around him, poking lovingly at his pale cheek.
“You were the one who started calling it that.” He pushed his hand away. earning a chuckle from Douma. “It’s just the day we met hundred years ago, nothing more. I don’t know why you’re so fixated on it. We’ll just end up having sex later, so why all this charade?”
Annoying. Useless. Pointless . Ever since Douma had found out that this was where he spent time before the sun rose, he insisted that they met there every day for their “anniversary”.
“That story again?” Douma sulked. “I just want to be loving to you, Dear Akaza.” He said, remarking that “Dear” and pinching his cheek.
This whole changing names and honorifics constantly was typical of Douma. He mostly stuck to honorifics, but in recent times he started slipping more endearing ones. Last time he added a -tan to his name and earned a punch straight on his stomach. He wasn’t a fucking kid.
“You didn’t seem to appreciate the loving gifts I gave you for all these years, so I thought to myself, maybe they weren’t of your liking after all?”
"Didn't you grasp it until now? How many times do I have to throw them in your face? I. Don't. Want. Your. Flowers."
Ever since Douma decided that they would celebrate the anniversary of their meeting, he began bringing bouquets every single time, each time with a more frivolous reason than the last. Last year, it was the turn of roses because, quoting his words, "They're the color of love! Just like my love for you!"
Douma laughed in a mechanical motion, but hiding behind that plastic smile Akaza could sense that he struck a chord. He smirked at that. Douma kept an appearance of lightness and control for the most part, so it took a while for Akaza to get when something he said managed to get through him. This was one of those times.
“This is much better, I swear! You will surely be pleased, My Dear Akaza.”
Akaza feigned disinterest, turning his gaze elsewhere but, with the corner of his eyes, he was looking attentively at Douma fumbling with the big red sleeves of his kimono.
“Well, Akaza, this is a surprise so, close your eyes”
“What if I rip out yours instead?”
“So rebellious, so rebellious, we’ll have plenty of time for that later!” He caressed his head, earning a glare from Akaza. However, Akaza simply sighed and, just for once, closed his eyes. He hoped this was as good as he was making it to be.
A foolish thought. But he hoped, deep down, that this pointless, useless, and meaningless thing maybe would be worth it. Just for this time.
But if it was another waste of time, he would rip out his eyes for real.
His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of something soft on his head. When he touched it he felt something soft and smooth, but also firm and rounded in shape.
“What is this?”
“It’s a flower crown! Lovers, on days such as this, give each other gifts that remind them of their lover, so I figured this would be the best choice!”
“....So it’s flowers again.” Akaza could already feel his strength flowing down to his fists, ready to be set right in the middle of his rainbow eyes.
“They aren’t just simple flowers!” Douma took the crown off Akaza. “This is a Red tulip. Well, it’s more of a pinkish color actually. They don’t look particularly soft, but when you feel them under your fingertips, you can feel their smoothness. Makes you want to brush them for a very long time. It reminded me a lot of your hair.” Akaza widened his eyes, the flower was indeed as he described it, but was his hair really that…soft? Akaza felt that his very pale cheeks were starting to tint in that same pinkish color.
“Oh and this, this is a Blue Violet! I found them blooming in one of my gardens, they were very very pretty, they reminded me of your eyes. And right in the night, when the moon shines on them, they get a more shiny color, kind of like how your eyes shine in the moonlight, Akaza!”
What was he even saying? Blue violets weren’t really that blue, he knew, he saw plenty of them while looking for what Muzan-Sama pressured him to look for entire fields. But they were pretty indeed…
“I know you really like Sakura too, Akaza! You always come down here when we have to celebrate, don’t you? It kinda became our lovely spot.”
The warm breeze covered and moved the branches of the tree and petals started falling on top of their hair. Douma took one from Akaza’s hair.
“So pretty… this one…looks just like you right now” And he caressed Akaza’s cheek with his hand, to which Akaza didn’t register at first. But then he subtly smirked and cradled into the touch.
“You really thought about it this time mh? Ok, I accept it.” He smiled peacefully, his cheeks growing a bit more redder than before.
“I’m glad” Douma smiled back. “Ah, well, I guess that the next thing coming is-”
But he could not continue because Akaza closed the distance between them and locked their lips together. Douma widened his eyes but immediately got into it and tenderly wrapped his arms around him, pulling them closer. Cradling Akaza’s cheek with one hand, and holding the back of his head with the other, his long fingers found a grip into the red soft hair.
The fiery interlocking of their tongues tangled together was the only thing that made a sound at that moment, or perhaps all that mattered. Along with the soft texture of Douma’s lips, and his smell, oh, and he so smelled like flowers. Delicate but intense enough that you could remember it forever. Perhaps that’s why he secretly liked to kiss him so much.
When they finally parted, Douma kissed Akaza’s forehead, a light peck. “You’re so pretty” whispered in his skin. “Why don’t we move to the next part?”
Akaza smirked, caressing his lips with his thumb.“I see you’re finally on my same line. Yeah, I think we can go now.”
The lingering feeling was strong in his heart now. At first, he couldn't really understand what it was, or why did it draw him there every year, every decade, every century. It was a lingering memory of something, something that he couldn't quite remember. But when he was with Douma, annoying, sickening, irritating Douma, he could feel that feeling in his fullness and could finally name it.
It was Love.