Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sakura has always been alone.

He’d grown up without any guardians willing to take care of him, was always scorned by the public eye to the point of driving him away through violence, and viewed as some sort of monster who didn’t deserve to even step foot into the world. 

And that was completely fine, he was used to it; to waking up to an empty apartment barely lived in, to having no one to say ‘I’m back’ or ‘welcome home’ to, and to living off barely nutritious convenience store food he’d buy at the konbini across the street. It was fine. This was how he's always lived, after all. 

So, how come there is a random stranger standing at his doorway, having somehow broken inside without making any noise, and staring at Sakura like something precious, that if he blinked even once, he would immediately disappear. 

He’s quite the character, too. Short, disheveled blonde hair, round, deep brown eyes, and freckles dusted right in the center of his face. Sporting a jacket with green and gold accents, Sakura assumes it’s some sort of uniform. 

“Sakura-san…” The stranger’s voice trembles, face scrunched up and eyes glistening with tears.

“Uh, yes, that is my name.” Sakura replies, immediately defensive, “How did you—”

He is promptly cut off by the stranger hugging him tightly and all he can do is stand there, stiff as a board, with a million questions running through his mind. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry we weren't there to save you.” Sakura has no clue what to say to that and oh—of course, the stranger starts crying into his arms and now his favorite shirt is wet. He just washed it, too. 

Well, Sakura thinks, at least the hug feels warm. 

He then processes what the boy said, and re-processes it, “…Huh?” 

Unfortunately, he gets no response, as the stranger only holds him closer, almost like he was trying to merge himself with Sakura’s chest.

(It’s as if he would vanish if he dared to let go even for a second, like a man who had only known suffering and all his life, having only tasted salvation at this very moment, and Sakura is that salvation, in some way.) 

And Sakura, well, doesn’t know how to react. 

“Um,” he starts, “it’s okay?” unsure, he awkwardly returns the hug.

This seems to get a reaction out of the stranger, as he only clings tighter and exclaims, “No! What we did to you was not okay.” We? Sakura takes a mental note of that information and stores it for later, “We should've gone in and rescued you from them before it was too late! I promise, Sakura-san, I—no, we will make sure you won’t die again.” He states with fervor, like an oath he'd sworn long ago. 

?????????????? 

“What the fuck.” Sakura says, very intelligently. 

He sneaks a glance at the calendar on the wall, ‘May 21st,’ it reads. Quite early for an April Fools prank, no? 

“This isn't a prank, Sakura-san!” Finally, the stranger loosens his grip to face him, and Sakura realizes he had said that out loud. 

“You sure you got the right guy? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’d know if I was dead.” He deadpans, writhing away from his grip. “Or are you implying that I’m a ghost?” 

“You can’t die when it hasn’t happened yet, though?” the stranger says, pure, genuine confusion painting his features. 

(It is then, that Sakura notices the heavy slump of his shoulders, seemingly carrying burdens that he would never fully understand. The dark, almost imprinted eyebags resting under tired eyes that have witnessed a hopeless future, which Sakura is somehow a part of.) 

“So what, you a fuckin’ time traveler or some shit?” he asks, expecting some response disagreeing with the statement, but is instead met with—

“I guess, yeah.” He nods thoughtfully. 

????????????????????????????

“You’re serious.” 

“I am.” The stranger responds, resolute and firm. 

“You realize how insane this sounds, right?” he confirms, incredulous. 

“…I know.” He shrinks into himself, small and unsure and Sakura can’t miss how the glimmer of hope in his eyes wanes.

Here's the thing: Sakura may not be the most intelligent person on the planet, knowledge was never his strong suit. But being able to tell sincerity from hollow truths was a skill he had unknowingly developed growing up. 

(When those were the only options he’d faced growing up, how could he not develop an ability to discern the two?)

And, as much as it appalls him, all he can sense from this stranger is genuine. He can tell that his words only mean the truth, despite how incomprehensible it may be. 

And so, he leads the stranger inside, sits him down on his futon, and goes to get two bottles of premade coffee resting in his sorry excuse of a kitchen.

Resigning to his fate, he sighs, “Tell me everything I need to know.” 

At this, the other brightens significantly, eyes no longer holding the sorrow from earlier, but a newfound hope and excitement rests instead.

Thus, Sakura later learns of an unfamiliar world. 

One where he’d applied to a school called ‘Furin,’ where he aimed to become the top as violence was all he’d ever known. How he discovers the school was a polar opposite of the rumors surrounding it, how he slowly grows fond of this school—his family, the stranger, who’s name he now knows as Nirei, clarifies, with eyes brimming with emotions he’s yet to unpack—and how he later suffers a cruel fate in protecting it. 

A noble tragedy, that is. Yet, it is about a Sakura Haruka who’d used violence not for power, but for justice. About a Sakura Haruka who’d break down his walls and let people see the deepest, most unsightly parts of himself. About a Sakura Haruka who’d be accepted and loved by a family, and how he’d lay his life for them without a moment's hesitation, and that, he did. 

It is a story he’d never even imagined of being a part of, let alone be the center of it all.

“So, you’re saying that we’re… friends in the future? And that I sacrificed myself for that school?” Sakura can barely wrap his head around it, the word ‘friends’ sounding unfamiliar (and oddly warm, but he denies the feeling) to his ears. 

“Not friends, you were our class captain, and Suo-san and I were your confidants. And don’t just refer to it as ‘that school,’ you considered it your home.” Nirei corrects him once again, and oh, he feels his stomach swirl with strange emotions. 

“You were Class 1—1’s soul, then you died,” he continues, and looks at Sakura, but not at him, but at the ghost of the future looming above him, stained red, bloodied and bruised and Nirei has to look elsewhere, “but now you’re here. You’re alive. I swear, we won't let you down this time. I-I’ll devise a plan to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” A fire is lit in his eyes and Sakura, akin to a moth to a flame, can’t help but be drawn to it. 

Albeit hesitantly, Sakura decides to humor him for a while, “Alright, then. Do what you want. Just know that I’m still not fully bought on that shit-story.”

Nirei perks up at that, and reaches into his jacket. “Oh! Right, I should probably introduce you to the others before they arrive,” he pulls out a notebook, and Sakura's head starts spinning at what's presented to him. 

He sees Nirei speaking, but Sakura’s brain, having gone into overdrive long ago, proceeds to shut down, and the world fades to black.

Sakura soon wakes up to see Nirei curled up beside him, clutching the fabric of his sleeve, sound asleep. Which confirms that earlier was, in fact, not a dream, much to his dismay. 

He pushes his hair out of his forehead, and groans. Now aware of the knowledge that there’ll be multiple of these ‘time travelers,’ he decides to lay back down and get some well deserved rest. 

Within the few weeks Nirei had unceremoniously—and without consent—moved into his already tiny apartment (“Sorry, Sakura-san! I don’t exactly have anywhere to stay, so…” Sakura noticed how apologetic and guilty he’d looked, so he ended up agreeing), Sakura finds his house being furnished, little by little. 

There are two futons on the ground now, both having matching pillows he’d apparently bought as a set (“There was a discount if I got both, Sakura-san! Besides, how do you even sleep without a pillow?”) and a small pile of notebooks and mangas tucked away in one of the corners of his—their?—room.

(“Feel free to read some of them if you’re curious!” he’d told him, once.

One day, he picks one up, and finds himself engrossed in the story. 

Sakura soon asks Nirei if he could buy more of the series, and the other is more than happy to oblige, as if expecting this, holding his wrist throughout their way to the manga store, and Sakura ends up a little breathless at the contact.) 

His cupboards no longer became storage for cheap, unhealthy instant food, but for ingredients and snacks that Nirei said he liked back then. He no longer has one bowl and one set of utensils, but three sets, for some odd reason that the other won't tell him about (“You’ll see why soon, Sakura-san!”) along with some other kitchen tools. 

So, like this, his house slowly starts to feel like home. 

And Sakura… doesn’t know what to do about it. 

The thing is, Sakura isn’t used… this. Having someone else in his home, let alone someone who views him as this savior of sorts, so undeniably important that he’s willing to put up with his, everything, really. He’s aware he isn’t the most approachable and likable person, he's far, far, from it, so he just can’t understand why. 

Why Nirei looks at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky, like he is a hero worthy of praise, like he is a treasure incomparable to anything else, like he is a divine being and he is the worshiper in return, like he is human, and deserves this kind of treatment. 

Why, when Sakura who’d been nicknamed as a demon, a monster, and a being that only knows how to destroy things, Nirei all but sees him for himself, flaws and all.

That, that is what scares Sakura the most. To be truly and utterly seen. 

(To be loved and accepted wholeheartedly, without any strings attached.) 

He’d always thought he would grow up alone, and eventually, die all the same, and he’d grown to accept that fate. And yet, here is Nirei, who’d subsequently flipped his worldview upside down and turned it on its axis.

Here is someone who cares about him, who treats him with more than just tolerance but rather with kindness and devotion, who has grieved him, knew him, and stuck with him through it all.

And Sakura is, to his core, a selfish person, so, he lets Nirei be, despite how foreign this is to him. 

And so, Sakura is no longer alone. 

Nevertheless, all he can do is bottle it up, until it, inevitably, explodes on him. 

Chapter Text

It starts with a knock on his door. 

Nirei’s out for the day, and having left not too long ago, Sakura grows suspicious. Even before the other had moved in, he never had someone knock on his door at all. (No one bothered to visit him, too scared from his not so favorable reputation.)

The knocking grows more impatient and insistent, and it’s really, really starting to annoy Sakura. 

Unfortunately, as his door lacks a peephole and a proper lock (which just so happens to be the reason why Nirei decided to head out and buy one), he has no choice but to open it and hope for the best. Fortunately however, it’s not a murderer, but a young man.

One thing pops up into Sakura’s mind when he sees him:

Chuuni. 

There’s a fucking chunnibyou outside his doorstep. 

Clad with Chinese-esque attire topped with a jacket, some weird tassel earrings, and an eyepatch, to top it all off. 

“Hello, Sakura-kun.” Is all the chuuni says to him, a singular red eye boring into his own and Sakura has to avert his gaze elsewhere. 

(Just like Nirei, he, too, looks at Sakura with that almost piercing stare, one that easily sees through his carefully built walls and masks.)

He takes one glance at the jacket, adorned with the same green and gold accents as Nirei’s, and heaves one long sigh.

“Just how long are you guys gonna drag this prank out?” exasperated, Sakura is tempted to just shut the door on him, but the other only tilts his head and chuckles. 

“Oh? It appears I’m not the first,” the teen smiles, and Sakura can’t help but take notice of the disingenuous lilt to it, “Then, tell me, who else have you—“

“Wha— Suo-saaaaaaaan!” A yell from outside, and that icy smile melts away in an instant, which only raises more questions in Sakura’s mind. He sees a blurry mop of blonde hair before it crashes right into the newly acquired time traveler, who also ends up falling on top of Sakura. 

“Ah, if it isn’t Nirei-kun!” Suo, Sakura now recognizes from Nirei’s ramblings, rolls off of him and enthusiastically returns Nirei’s embrace, who giggles softly. 

Sakura lays on the ground and watches, as the two act with a familiarity that he himself has yet to be a part of and witness.

He wonders if he had also acted like that with them, in their future.

(And yet, a part of him knows that he’ll never be able to fully grasp the bond between the two, as much as it pains him to think about. 

They’re friends with Sakura’s future self, after all. Not the lonely outcast, the freak loathed by all, but the hero who’d laid down his own life for his family. He wouldn’t be surprised if they end up leaving him in the dust for not fulfilling the heavy, heavy expectations his future self had casted upon him.)

“Sakura-kun?” Suo calls out, breaking him from his reverie and Sakura barely manages to hold back the warmth threatening to escape from his eyes. 

Unable to trust his voice, he only nods in acknowledgment.

Nirei and Suo share a look and proceed to tackle Sakura without warning, which causes him to scream, muttering empty threats the two knew he would never act upon. 

And so, like this, Suo Hayato finds his way home. 

Sakura isn’t shocked when Suo moves into his apartment, equipped with his own futon and bag full of personal items, and Nirei buying everything in sets of three starts to make sense now. 

What does shock him, however, is the absolute menace that is Suo Hayato. 

Not only does he love poking fun at Sakura pushing his buttons, making him flush shades of red he never even knew he was capable of, but he also has a knack of getting away with things without anyone noticing, which leads to situations like this. 

“What the fuck.” Sakura says one morning. 

There is a fridge in his house. 

Sakura doesn’t own a fridge. Hell, he doesn’t have any appliances aside from an air conditioner to begin with. 

And this fridge looks new and costly. It’s practically glowing, the smooth surface reflecting the barely working light bulb in the kitchen, Sakura can almost hear the singing of angels and the toots of horns in the background the more he stares at the thing. He suspects it was one of the latest models, if the blinding surface wasn’t a telltale sign already. 

Slowly, he turns his head towards the only other person in the house, who just so happens to be behind him. 

Suo merely stands there, smiling smugly. 

“How the fuck did you get this in here,” he gestures to the fridge, that only continues shining brighter, “and not make any noise?!” Sakura pulls at his hair, flitting his gaze between the fridge and Suo to make sure that no, he is in fact not hallucinating the very real, very expensive looking fridge in his kitchen. 

“I never said it was me, though?” Suo, the bastard, laughs, finding the situation amusing, of all things. 

“You—! Who else would it be, then? ‘Ya saying that the fridge just teleported here?” he is really, really trying not to pop a vessel here. 

“Who knows? I mean, that’s how Nirei and I arrived here, no?” and with that, Suo takes his cue to sprint away to escape Sakuras wrath. 

“SUOOOOOO!” Sakura chases the burgundy haired teen, who’s very much enjoying this, not at all fearing for his life. 

Nirei comes home equally as confused that day, the sight of the two sprawled out on the ground, and a fridge, that he swore wasn’t there when he left, now sits beside the sink.

(Later on, when Sakura finds an induction cooker on one of his counters, sparkling glaringly even in the dark, accompanied by a set of steel pans, Nirei has to hold him back from bashing it into Suo’s head while he’s asleep.)

Nightmares aren’t a new experience for Sakura, and today is no exception. 

Waking up from a cold sweat, the phantom pains of a tightrope beneath his feet, the sensation of disgusted gazes, and the taunts of distaste for his existence lingers in his thoughts. 

(What would he do, the day Nirei and Suo do the same?) 

Clutching a hand on his chest, he makes an attempt to steady his breathing, when he hears the rustling of a blanket and a sleepy mumble. 

“Sakura-kun?” Suo asks blearily, tone quiet and careful. 

“S-sorry,” he rasps out, willing his voice to stop shaking yet it still manages to catch the others attention, seeing the sleep clouding Suo’s eyes fade instantly, “I’m fine, go back to sleep.” 

“Sakura-kun,” he says, tone unwavering, “It’s quite obvious that you aren’t fine.” Frowning, Suo gets up from his futon and scoots closer to Sakura. From this angle, he sees the tremble in the others mismatched eyes filled with all sorts of emotions, and the pale complexion of his skin glowing in the moonlight. 

Were it not for the current circumstances, he’d find the sight ethereal, breathtakingly so. Perhaps he would’ve teased him, too.

Instead, he takes Sakura's hand in his, cautious, “Try to match my breathing, can you do that?” 

With a shudder, he nods, and the two stay like this, hands clasped, until Sakura can finally breathe again. 

After a while, Suo speaks up, “Would you like some tea?” 

A small squeeze to his hand is all he needs. He gets up from his futon, keeping his footfalls quiet lest he wakes up Nirei, as he heads into the kitchen with Sakura in tow. 

Grabbing a tea set he’d left in one of the lower cupboards, he pours some water inside the kettle he’d bought a few days ago (of which Sakura did not approve of) , all while Sakura stands behind him, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

As the water boils, Suo opts to pull Sakura away from his thoughts, sensing his discomfort. 

“Sakura-kun.” He whispers, and the other jumps, almost like a cat, at his name. The boy raises an eyebrow, urging him to continue. 

“Do these happen often?” blunt as ever, Suo inquires, and Sakura squirms at the look he’s sending him right now.

With a shaky nod, he squeezes his eyes shut, and prepares to see the disappointment and annoyance on Suo’s face, but it never comes. 

Hesitantly, Sakura cracks one golden eye open, and feels his breath come to a halt. 

Rather than judgment, Suo’s eyes fill with something akin to understanding, sending shivers down his spine as the other reaches out and gingerly cradles Sakura’s face, and he belatedly realizes the wetness dripping onto his cheeks.  

In a desperate attempt to flee, he pulls away, but Suo, having expected this, grabs onto his wrists and pushes him further towards the wall. Sakura kicks and flails around to escape his hold, while Suo dodges each and every hit, calm and composed as ever. 

‘Oi! Let go, bastard!’ He tries to yell, yet all that comes out is a shaky sob, and Sakura stops trashing, tired and defeated. Suo loosens his grip, his hands now resting on his forearms, a frown on his face. 

The kettle decides to choose this moment to make its presence known, puncturing the silence with its loud whistle which causes one to flinch, and the other to quickly stand up and take it off the stove. 

He pours the water into two cups before brewing the tea, keeping a watchful eye on Sakura, who makes no move to escape. Once he’s done, he settles beside the boy, and places the teacups in front of them.

Reluctantly, he grabs the cup, and takes a small sip, and is greeted with a pleasant flavor. Eyes seemingly lighting up, he continues drinking the tea.

(Unbeknownst to him, Suo beams knowingly, recalling a similar incident back then—wherein Sakura had expressed his liking towards jasmine tea in particular.)

When the two have both finished their shares, Sakura hesitantly peeks at Suo for the first time in a while, who raises his eyebrows in acknowledgment. 

“T-Thank you,” a brief pause, before he mumbles, “Suo.” 

“It’s no problem, Sakura-kun.” He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But, if you’d like, could we talk about what happened today?”

Sakura falls silent at this, and Suo doubts for a moment if he pushed too much, when—

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, and Suo smiles, a simple reassurance that Sakura appreciates. 

“That’s alright. We won’t have to push you into anything you find unpleasant doing.” 

He laughs, suddenly, confusing Sakura and he quickly clarifies, “I’m not laughing at you, don’t worry. I just remembered a similar incident from the future, and I unknowingly reiterated what I’ve said before.”

Reminded of the future, Sakura fails to supress his grimace at the topic, which Suo quickly catches. 

“Sakura-kun,” the boy avoids his gaze, and Suo has to hold his hand to get him to look back,” I know all of this is new to you, but please know that you are free to reach out whenever you feel overwhelmed, upset, or whatever you want to talk about. We won’t judge or push you away, and if we do end up doing that, you’re free to cut us off—and to kill me a million times over.” He adds in hopes to lighten the mood the slightest bit. 

A small, unsure chuckle, “Thats a lot of times,” Sakura points out. 

“It’s too little, in my opinion.” He jokes back, and the two sit in comfortable silence, when Suo’s smile drops into a scowl.

“We were so devastated, you know?” Suo says in a quiet admission, so soft that Sakura has to strain his ears to listen, “I’m not sure if Nirei-kun has told you the full story, but when you’d left so suddenly I… didn’t know what to do.” A cresfallen expression rests on his face, “I even ended up spiraling, and before I knew it, I was fighting thugs on the streets without mercy or remorse.” He winces at the memory, then continues with an angry tone (not directed at Sakura, but at himself, being so utterly blind and useless for months all as Sakura had to endure the heaviest of burdens unimaginable) “Then you show up again after months of radio silence only to—“ 

“Die in front of you all, I know.” Sakura finishes for him, and gets a frown in response. 

“It was terrible,” quieter, he adds, “I’ll never forgive myself. I should’ve been better. Searched harder for you. Led the class instead of causing more fights to break out. I could’ve stopped Umemiya-san from—“

“Oi. None of that.” Sakura cuts him off harshly, grabbing Suo’s hands away from his grip on his hair that he hadn’t even noticed he was doing, “I did what I did, and there was no changing that.” He stops himself for a moment, brows furrowed in deep thought, “I… can’t exactly say what future me was thinking but, you, or anyone else probably wouldn’t have been able to stop me from sacrificing myself.” 

Despite this, Suo continues. “At the very least, we should have tried getting in contact with you and understand the situation you were in, instead of painting you as a traitor. That your act of selflessness wasn’t a betrayal. You didn’t deserve to die.” Bile burns in the back of his throat and hot, angry tears fall from his eyes. 

Bi-colored eyes widen, and Suo feels warm hands pulling him into an embrace, to which he desperately clutches onto, tightly gripping Sakura’s shirt. 

“Don’t blame yourself. You did all you could.” Sakura soothingly rubs his back.

Suo only sobs harder, crying for the Sakura who’d faced an unfair fate, for the Sakura who only deserves the kindest of touches, for the Sakura who only wanted to be loved, and willingly died to protect those who’d given that to him for the very first time. 

He swears that he’ll never let it happen again. To never see the sight of Sakura, drenched in red, smiling at his family, and collapsed on the ground. 

He’ll make sure of it. 

(When Nirei stirs awake, the sun barely gracing the sky, and sees the two huddled close to each other, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, he drapes a blanket over them, and decides to start breakfast.)