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“You don’t remember your parents?”
“Nope. Not at all.”
The sky was setting into red hues. The birds chirped from afar. The whole school was quiet except for the two of them who had somehow ended up being the last ones in the building.
Sakura took a long drag of his cigarette before puffing out the smoke into the clear sky. He normally would avoid smoking around his friends, but it’s just Suo, and Suo Hayato was one of the few people who’d known him long enough not to call him out on that particular bad habit of his.
“Then, you remember anything?”
“You mean, things about my biological family?” Suo hummed a little, seemingly deep in thought a minute before his lips curved into yet another empty smile. “Anything I know about them was told by my sensei. But it feels like a tale out of a bedtime storybook, you know? It’s like reading a biography; like being told about another person’s life story. Because as far as I remember, they never existed in my life.”
“Lucky you.” Sakura puffed out another chain of smokes. “I wish I could just forget ‘em.”
Suo leaned closer, tilting his head. “They’re that terrible?”
“Ha! They fucking hate my guts. And I despise those bastards just as much. So, it’s kinda mutual now, I guess.”
“I wish at least I remember their faces,” Suo said longingly, “I think my sensei still keeps their photos somewhere, but he just refuses to show me.”
“Sometimes not knowing is for the best, y’know?”
“Wow, you surprisingly sound so mature now.”
Sakura rolled his eyes without taking the bait. Although the teasing remark had him blushing slightly.
“No memories means no pain. No nightmares. No whatever nonsense that comes with recallin’ that time your shitty dad beat you up when you’re five just askin’ some dumb pokemon cards.”
Suo smiled sadly. “At least you know now that you deserve a better life. For me,” Suo paused to gingerly touch his eyepatch, “I don’t even remember how I lost my eye. The right socket is always empty as far as I know. My sensei told me that it was my parents who did it, but I have no way of knowing whether he’s really telling me the truth, or it’s just some other lie he’d crafted to appease me.”
“I don’t getcha,” Sakura confessed bluntly, which prompted a small laugh out of Suo.
“Let’s put it this way—having bad memories is like owning a terrible painting. When life gets better, you can overpaint it. Or fix the previous painting. You’ll see how much you’ve progressed; how much your life has changed. And it’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?”
“Alright… I guess I kinda get it now.”
“Besides,” Suo chuckled, yet it sounded bitter, “Let me tell you, Sakura-kun, being able to remember your painful past is actually a testament of your strength. Your mental strength.”
“Huh?”
“My memory loss, in my case, I was told that it stems from my traumatic experience. But you, Sakura-kun, you are strong enough to remember. You survive carrying your memories with you. It is something even I am envious of, honestly.”
Sakura opened his mouth again hesitantly. “I…I never think you’re weak.”
He noticed the way Suo’s lips curved slightly, saw it when Suo was about to laugh it off again, yet this time Sakura was faster.
Sakura followed his intuition to reach out and tucked a wild lock of hair behind Suo’s ear. He let his fingers linger there a bit longer, thumbed that pretty tassel earring as his gaze turned into something a little softer, and then said with strangely strong conviction,
“You are strong, Suo. You will remember too. Someday. You will.”