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It was quiet in Sakura’s dorm late at night, nothing but the hum of air conditioning and the steady, even sound of Mary’s breathing to keep her company and take away from the stillness of the night.
The warmth of Mary’s skin against her own was all too real, almost too real, and briefly Sakura wondered if she was going to wake up from this. If this was simply a cruel dream, and she would wake up tomorrow in Aoi’s bed once more (or worse yet, Sachiko’s embrace, arms twisted around her waist like a snake). But, she knew that wasn’t the case anymore. Wouldn’t be the case for the rest of her life.
Glancing over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, she sighed to herself.
1:38 A.M.
Far too late (early?) for her to still be awake.
But really, she couldn’t help herself. How was she supposed to sleep when she finally felt a taste of happiness in life? How could she possibly waste time sleeping when it felt like joy was within the palm of her hands?
Mary was like spring, a soft breeze that brought new beginnings. Warm and full of life, sweet like the scent of freshly blooming Hyacinth. But she could also string like a honeybee when she needed to. The duality of her personality was something that had Sakura captivated, there were days when Mary seemed akin to a baby bird stretching its wings for the first time, and there were times when she seemed more like a cat, prowling silently through the forest that was Hyakkaou.
Mary was as fresh and lovely as a dewdrop, a budding flower breaking through concrete. And if that was the case, what did it make of her previous relationships?
Sakura supposed Aoi was like the sun. Bright and warm, but stray too close, or linger in his presence for too long, and you’d be burnt to ash. He’d been the center of her life for so many years, everything she’d done had been because of him, and when she finally left, freedom was a strange taste. She’d grown so used to his presence, the constant put-downs, the never being good enough, the humiliation that came with disappointing him, that finally being free from that was so, so very strange. Like learning to walk again. But with that newfound freedom came with a price that she hadn’t quite expected.
Being with one person nearly her entire teenage life meant that she’d never learned to spot warning signs from afar. That she’d never quite learned how to make a relationship work. That she was vulnerable to someone looking for a new toy.
Juraku Sachiko had found her within weeks of her engagement being broken off, and oh, how she was so very sweet at first. Lavishing Sakura in attention and gifts and praise and what seemed like love. It was all so very perfect for the first months, and for a brief moment in time, Sakura was convinced she’d found the love of her life.
And then, that illusion started to slowly crack.
They’d started arguing more and more often, and as slowly as a drip of honey (yet somehow all at once), things changed.
It was in small ways at first, Sachiko blocking her from leaving a room, or grabbing her wrist (and squeezing so tightly she feared it would break), or raising a hand as if she was going to lay it on Sakura’s shaking frame. And each time, the glue of bat eyelashes and sweet apologies seemed to mend any strain on their relationship.
Sachiko would pull her close in bed those evenings, whispers of how she was so sorry, of how she never meant it, of how she loved Sakura more than anything, would fill the room. And foolishly, Sakura would believe it. She’d spent so long trying to justify it to herself, because surely Sachiko could never actually hurt her, and it was all in a moment of anger, and it must’ve just been a mistake. Until one evening, things escalated even more.
They’d been arguing. The details were hazy, but Sakura could remember she’d been working, sitting at her bedroom desk, too focused on school work to give Sachiko whatever attention she wanted. Sachiko told her how bored she was, and coyly invited Sakura back to her dorm. She’d told her no. She couldn’t, because this assignment was due tomorrow morning and it needed to be perfect. And before Sakura knew it, Sachiko was behind her, fingertips tracing up her neck, before pressing down. Nails dug into her skin, leaving behind little crescent moon indents as her breath was stolen away. For the first time in her life, Sakura felt truly scared of another person. And Sachiko’s voice had dropped down, low and threatening.
What exactly she had said, Sakura couldn’t remember, but it must’ve been something along the lines of I’ll kill you.
She’d kicked Sachiko out that same night, ended the relationship without hesitation. Told Sachiko to never come near her again, and with the threat of a restraining order, Sachiko kept her distance.
That very night, it was Mary who Sakura cried to. It was Mary who heard her swear she’d never let someone hurt her again. And it was Mary who held her through the nights that followed.
And somehow, something new bloomed between them.
Somehow, they’d ended up falling for each other.
Somehow, Sakura had found some sort of happiness in life.
Mary snuggled closer to her, nuzzling into her neck as she sighed dreamily.
That drew Sakura from her thoughts, and as she carefully brushed blonde bangs away from her girlfriends face, she finally, finally realized that as cruel as life may be, it could also hold pockets of something beautiful.