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In hindsight, Umemiya should have seen the confrontation coming.
All of Furin are piled up in the izakaya, scattered among themselves as they mingle with one another. The space can barely fit the entire school population - as little as they may be, loud and raucous as chortles and guffaws fill in the air. Shed school jackets are littered everywhere, behind chairs and on floors. The smell of sweat and a tiny bit of alcohol can barely be discerned with the wafts coming from the platters of food on tables around.
With a few of his shirt buttons left unbuttoned and folded sleeves up to his forearms, Umemiya basks in his surroundings.
His fist beneath his chin, he watches lazily from his seat, from the corner and middle seat among his fellow 3rd years. He watches as some of the 2nd years begin an arm wrestling match, cheers erupting and hollering when Kaji overthrows his opponent with an easy flourish. The loser apparently has to finish a drink, but Kaji decides to snatch his opponent’s drink for himself instead.
Umemiya catches bits of the conversation around him. Tsubaki is beside him chattering away with Momose, and Hiiragi on his other side is busy nitpicking through his food.
When Kaji easily wins another round, Umemiya turns to Hiiragi. “Don’t you want to fight Kaji too?”
Hiiragi startles in his seat, and Umemiya knows that his voice is loud enough to garner the sparse attention of everyone around him. They absolutely love the idea, given the immediate focus on them and the encouraging whistles directed at Hiiragi.
With an annoyed look at him, Hiiragi clicks his tongue. “Fine.” He rises from his seat, and the sound is deafening as he walks to the opposite of where Kaji is sitting.
Umemiya grins, leaning back onto the chair behind him.
As they begin to wrestle, Tsubaki strikes up a conversation with him.
“Can’t believe we are no longer Furin students.”
There’s a sad smile on his face when he says so, Umemiya follows with a smile of his own. “We’re graduates now.”
The graduation early that day was a very fast affair. The government representative in charge was trembling in his shoes, not meeting any of their eyes as they were handed their scrolls. They did not have any graduation robes, so the entire Furin 3rd years were dressed up to the nines, polished shoes and ironed shirts and buttoned jackets, the full formal uniform they decided to wear for the first and only time. It took time for Umemiya to find a collared shirt, and he looked different when he saw himself in the mirror that morning and presumably in the many pictures that were taken.
Everything looked different, to be fair. Looking at the school for the last time, his school, Umemiya felt the subtle shifts of change starting to take over.
Even now, as they celebrate and Umemiya nurses his drink, he can see the changes. A strand of his loose hair falls distractingly, so he brushes it off. In the process, he catches a flicker of bright heterochromatic eyes before there is none.
So, it should be apparent enough that he should have seen the confrontation coming.
“You know, there is something important I have to ask you.”
Umemiya’s eyes flicker at Tsubaki, caught off guard by his serious tone. He gulps down the slight burnt in his throat, and a small grin finds itself to his lips. “You do?”
Tsubaki turns to him, and with a careful raise of his trimmed eyebrow, he says with the conviction of someone who has mulled it over many times. “You know that Sakura likes you, right?”
Umemiya halts, blinks once. Twice. His fingers twitch around his glass. “That … was not what I expected.”
“It is important.”
Feeling a sudden dryness in his throat, Umemiya decides to take a very long sip of his drink. He ignores the burning stare Tsubaki’s giving him, hoping it’ll stop but it doesn’t. He puts down his cup, and Tsubaki implores. “Do you?”
Sighing, Umemiya replies. “I do.”
“So,” Tsubaki leans in, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
Umemiya frowns for a millisecond before shaking his head. “No. Nothing.”
Tsubaki doesn’t interrupt him as he tries to find his words. Umemiya is grateful, but the more he thinks, the more there is none fitting enough to describe Sakura Haruka’s feelings towards him. It can’t be helped when his gaze finds itself to where the first years are seated, easily latching onto the person in his thoughts. Sakura sits huddled with his classmates, seeming to bicker with Tsugishita over a plate of food or maybe something trivial, chopsticks clicking viciously only to stop. Umemiya feels a shiver running up his spine, and he’s not fast enough to avert his gaze when Sakura lifts his head, meeting his eyes head-on.
In that short instance, a flush overtakes his cheeks. He quickly ducks his head, bangs covering his face, but even from this far, Umemiya notices the red tips of his ears. Tsubaki may have sensed his turmoil, as he gives him reprieve.
“Him harbouring a crush on you is pretty cute.”
Cute is not a fitting word too, but Umemiya keeps that to himself. “I thought you would be disappointed.”
“What? Me? Disappointed in Sakura?!” Tsubaki gasps in offense. “Never, Ume! In fact, I’m proud of him. It’s obvious that he likes you.”
He shifts to look at where the 1st years are sitting. Umemiya follows to what has captured his sight; Nirei playfully shoving Sakura away from his stare match against Sugishita, dragging him into the arm wrestling match the other table is having. The crowd erupts in cheers as Sakura is forced to take a seat, face flushed for another entirely different reason, and only now does Umemiya notice that Kaji is knocked out, passed on Hiiragi’s shoulder from maybe too much alcohol in his system.
“Who here wants to go against Sakura?!” Enomoto shouts amidst the loud whoops, drunken face dark enough to rival Sakura’s own.
Umemiya isn’t surprised when Tsubaki raises his hand, knowing he’s always liked party games like this. He can’t help the immediate feeling of suspicion though, that Tsubaki is planning something as he answers. “Me!”
As Tsubaki rises to the explosive holler of everyone, Umemiya looks at Sakura, who is alarmed and caught off-guard by the volunteering. That expression is quickly replaced with competitive determination though, an uplift quirk of his lips as he seizes in his opponent.
“No hard feelings, Tsubaki.” He declares, leaning his arm on the table.
Grasping Sakura’s hand, Tsubaki guffaws. “Back at you, Sakura-chan.”
“The loser has to drink one mug! Remember that! Now -” Enomoto says while Kusumi raises the bottle to show it off, “- fight!”
Tsubaki’s strength is focused on his leg muscles, a fact that all of Furin and its enemies know, so it isn’t surprising when there’s a power struggle as he and Sakura try to outdo each other. Their linked arms trembling, Tsubaki grips the edge of the table while Sakura grits his teeth. Their forms are tense, leaning to the side bit by bit and Umemiya alongside the others watch with anticipation as they’re locked in battle.
Sakura grunts, and slowly he pushes Tsubaki’s arm. The nervous gasps of the crowd intensify as it looks like Sakura may win - but Tsubaki surprises them as he fights against the strength, putting their arms in a standstill as everyone collectively sucks in a sharp breath.
And with a roar, Tsubaki downs Sakura’s arm, hitting the table strong enough to rattle the plates.
Umemiya joins in the celebratory cheer, whooping loudly. Students clap Tsubaki’s back, him laughing as Sakura brings the feeling back into his arm with a grimace. Then, everyone shouts.
“Drink! Drink! Drink!”
Concern immediately floods Umemiya’s system. He had told the students in charge to go easy on the alcohol, especially towards the first years but they evidently didn’t. He has no problem with that, but he knows Sakura has this certain dislike towards it. Sakura is passed a mug, liquid sloshing and the displeasure is obvious as he scrunches his nose.
Before he can tip it down his throat, Tsubaki snatches it. There’s no time to be surprised as he chugs it down at amazing speed, much to the awed gasps and shouts of the crowd.
“Pwah!” Tsubaki raises the empty mug into the air. Everyone whistles. “More, please!”
As Kusumi eagerly refills his mug, Sakura grumbles underneath his breath. Umemiya can barely hear it, but it sounds close to: “You really don’t have to, Tsubaki.”
Tsubaki only smirks, then he leans into Sakura, whispering something in his ear.
The suspicion that has been lying dormant inside him springs up with renewed vigour, and it is proven to be correct as Sakura’s eyes widen in a way indicating true astonishment, and the instant whiplash to look at Umemiya is pretty much a telltale sign of what Tsubaki had told him.
Caught, he turns his head away. In classic Tsubaki fashion, Tsubaki shouts, beckoning him over. “Come here, Ume! Let’s have a match.”
He can’t exactly ignore Tsubaki’s suggestion, not when everyone immediately brightens at the idea of him joining the match. He laughs and makes his way over. Sakura instantly scoots away, seeking refuge amidst his fellow friends and when Umemiya tries to meet his eye again, he refuses so, intent on staring hard at the tatami floor.
His focus shifts to Tsubaki and the match they’re going to have. As they lock arms, Umemiya can’t help but ask. “What did you tell him?”
“Just a few encouraging words.” Tsubaki says, voice lilting. “I am his senpai after all.”
He hums at those words, and then his whole attention is brought to the match. After only a few seconds, he slams Tsubaki’s arm onto the table, igniting a whole fiasco where he thinks every Furin student begins lining up to arm wrestle him into submission. None of them manage to do so, chugging down mugs of alcohol after they lose and are quickly replaced by another eager Furin student trying their chances at beating him. The closest is Kaji, whose fully inebriated state has made him lose all sense of respect towards Umemiya, making him want to murderously bring his arm down. He is knocked out once again before he can reach that point though, dragged by Hiiragi to lay down on the tatami a few feet away.
At the end of the party, Umemiya’s right and left arms are sore, his legs have needles in them, his back hurts a bit and he’s the only one not drunk off his ass.
“WHERE THE WIND GOES EAST~” Tsuegura screams.
“TRUST IN OUR HEART -” Sakaki Number One.
“AND BELIEFS -” Sakaki Number Two.
“FUUUUUUUUURIN!” Kurita sings in falsetto.
“HIGHHhhhHHH!” Nirei’s voice cracks.
Laughing, Umemiya shakes his head. The owner of the izakaya, Grandpa Makoto just smiles exasperatedly as the last person aside from Umemiya stumbles out of his shop, the school anthem continuing outside with more drunken stupor and worryingly troubling intonations.
“Can’t thank you enough, Makoto-jiichan! Sorry for all the trouble.”
He flaps a hand absent-mindedly, “Don’t worry about it, Hajime. You kids are always welcome here ever since you beat my rowdy customers back then!”
Umemiya chuckles at that, remembering coming here with Hiiragi trailing behind him to beat some reckless guys into shape. Grandpa Makoto senses the nostalgia too, as he says. “Good lad that you are. Now go, your friends are waiting.”
Waving, Umemiya steps out and is greeted by the chilly spring air. He breathes in, smelling the lingering remnants of food but also cherry blossoms drifting mindlessly. He lifts his head.
Standing there, with his hands in his pockets under the dim street lamp, Sakura says, eyes bright. “Umemiya.”
The huge group of Furin students are up ahead, drunk and singing off-key, swaying side-by-side with abandonment. There’s no worry for them, considering they’re on their own territory and have his fellow yearmates to look after the younger ones. Umemiya flicks his eyes back to Sakura, whose chin is tucked in as he stares at his feet. The tips of his ears are red, Umemiya notices.
He grins, bumping his shoulder. “Walk with me, Sakura.”
Sakura stays silent, no usual sharp retort on his tongue as Umemiya walks and he follows. Umemiya shortens his steps, matching Sakura’s, evening the pace between them until they are finally walking in rhythm. Sakura usually walks impatiently, rushing to one point and another, but now he’s languid, building his energy up for something else.
Umemiya tilts his head up, looking at the moon shining brightly. Its shape tonight is as if a dog chomped on it haphazardly, but the goldish hue reminds him of Sakura’s iris. He refutes the urge to turn his head whenever Sakura steals the occasional peek at him, his gaze burning despite the chilly night weather they are in.
The group in front is further and further away, until eventually the only person left in Umemiya’s vicinity is beside him, thumb twiddling on a stray lint and teeth nibbling his lower lip.
Cherry blossom trees cover the sidewalk, looming above and around, stray petals fluttering down and branches softly swaying, and being surrounded by these camaraderie flowers might have given Sakura the strength needed as he stops walking.
Umemiya stops walking too when he notices it, turning around.
Both eyes fiery, Sakura’s voice has the slightest tremble when he says. “I have something to tell you, Umemiya.”
There’s a definite strength to Sakura now, after all he had gone through with Furin. He is getting stronger and stronger with each passing day, and Umemiya can’t help but be reminded of that as he faces him. The dim night light shines on him, white and black bangs long and swept over lashes and endearing eyes. Skin less pale and healthier, but littered with more small scars - he glows in the moonlight and smells like cherry blossoms. His palms are fisted, a fighting stance of his he has chosen for this moment.
Umemiya thinks - they have come a long way since he saw Sakura for the first time under the sunlight - taut shoulders carrying a burden far too heavy for his convictions and hard eyes that spellbind him momentarily for the different colours and permanently for the struggle in them.
As they stand here, Sakura has shown he has grown and he can be mistaken as one of the trees around for how strong he is.
“I -” He begins and pauses immediately. His cheeks are flushed red and he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes. Umemiya can hear the screams going around in his head until Sakura kicks himself out of it, snapping his eyes open to momentarily freeze Umemiya for how bright and honest they are.
Chin tilted upwards, Sakura confesses. “I like you, Umemiya.”
His voice rings inside Umemiya’s head and he might have been in a bit of a starstruck situation because he can’t seem to respond at all.
Shifting his feet, Sakura grumbles. “Say something, damn it!”
Umemiya covers his mouth with his palm, sucks in some needed air because his lungs feel like they’ve been punched out of it. He can’t help the grin that comes to his lips.
“You like me, huh, Sakura?”
Sputtering, Sakura’s hackles rise. “You - You heard me!”
Umemiya has heard him clearly. Heck, he has been preparing himself for this, but it still catches him off-guard. He’s not unfamiliar with confessions, especially those done in spring under blooming cherry blossom trees. He imagines turning down Sakura like what he has done previously to his many admirers, but he knows that is not the correct way to deal with it either.
A complete stranger at first like everyone else. Soon, someone who Umemiya guides through. Then, someone who can stand on his own two feet. Sakura Haruka sounds just like anyone who Umemiya surrounds himself with, if it were not for his feelings towards him.
Unfamiliar. Sakura’s feelings towards him are unfamiliar.
And Umemiya doesn’t know how to deal with it.
“Why?”
Sakura frowns, probably not expecting the question. He avoids his gaze, “Why, you say. Isn’t it obvious why?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
As if still possible, he blushes more. “Ugh! Fine!” Umemiya is surprised when he whirls around and jabs a finger at him. “It’s because you're the one who made Furin become the home that I know. You told me what it means to be the strongest. You - You showed me there’s more to than just being fucking alone! There! Happy?!” He spits out.
Umemiya stares at him, and Sakura shoves his hands into his pockets. He looks like he could combust with how red his face is. “Why are you looking at me like that - oh - why are you hugging me?!”
His voice trails into a squeak when Umemiya squeezes him. Hugging Sakura is something Umemiya has done maybe once or twice, but never has he fully embraced him like this. Arms wrapped around his small frame, Sakura is warm and despite sadly not smelling like flowers, he emanates comfort in a way familiarity does. Umemiya can do this all day, he thinks. It’s a shame he has never tried to hug Sakura like this before.
Sakura’s struggle ceases with time, no longer wiggling when it’s apparent he won’t be let go. Umemiya feels it when he surrenders himself away into the hug, arms coming to wrap around his waist and head awkwardly settling on his chest.
Maybe it is a bit cute. Sakura’s feelings towards him, that is.
Umemiya says, hushed. “I can’t return your feelings, Sakura.”
“I know.” Sakura replies, muffled. “I just want to say it. I don’t want any regrets when you’re gone.”
Sorrow pangs his heart at the mention of him leaving Furin. “Is that what Tsubaki told you?”
Sakura nods smally. Surprisingly, he has the courage to explain. “Told me I should commit to my feelings and all that.”
“And you are committing, aren’t you?” Umemiya laughs heartily. “I’m not your first crush, am I?”
Sakura elbows him in the gut.
Umemiya can safely say that he had been elbowed in the gut a lot of times, but he has never been elbowed by an underclassman who is asked the simple question of whether or not he is his first ever crush. The unexpected strength causes him to wheeze, enough for Sakura to break free from the hug and dart backwards in lightning speed.
Groaning, he rubs the pressure point where Sakura had elbowed him. Sakura on the other hand is glaring at him like a frizzled kitten, free from his clutches and tone spitting fire. “So what if you are, huh?!”
He holds up a finger, asking for a moment to ease the pain.
“Well, I would say I’m honoured, for starters. And I hope that I won’t stop you from having feelings for someone else.”
Sakura asks, all embarrassment vanishing in place for his sudden curiousity. “Why do you think so?”
Umemiya smiles. He ruffles his head. “You deserve love, Sakura. I can’t give you that in the form you wish, but there are others who can give it to you instead.”
“Don’t be disheartened. I still like you in my own way.”
The acceptance is there in Sakura’s small and fast smile, and his hum is a bit fond and hurt, although Umemiya won’t say it out loud.
A breeze rushes through, nipping his nose and carrying the smell of spring. A stray petal sticks to Sakura’s cheek, but before he can rub it off, Umemiya picks it up, holding it between his fingers.
Soft, silken. Sakura steps closer to him, resolutely meeting his eyes. “Let’s head back.”
This time, Sakura walks first and Umemiya follows.