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“SAKURA,” the now-familiar voice rings through the hallway as a girl slams their classroom door open. the class barely bats an eye, already used to this daily occurrence.
sugishita isn’t even awakened by the loud bang of the door opening, snoozing silently on his table without a care in the world. kiryu sighs goodnaturedly, looking off to the side where suo is sitting to comment, “it seems our resident rizzmaster-chan is back~”
sakura reacts the most out of all his classmates, his face turning completely red before the girl has even said a single word. he sputters out a “you’re back again?”, completely failing to hide the twinge of happiness in his voice as she approaches his table.
“can we stop with the rizzmaster-chan already,” she sighs, though the poorly obscured delight in her voice at being given the nickname is palpable. more than one person inwardly notes the similarities between sakura and her at pretending to dislike something they blatantly like.
“we will when you stop rizzing up our grade captain, rizzmaster-chan,” suo says with a smile. the hidden threat in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed and a shudder runs through the classroom.
“what’s on today’s pick-up line menu, rizzmaster-chan?” kiryu teases, leaning forward to prop his chin on a hand, dispelling the tension in the classroom easily. the girl huffs proudly, putting her hands onto her hips.
in lieu of a direct response, she turns to sakura, who is currently trying to disappear into both his seat and the floor. with the air of a royal messenger and all the flair of a party magician, she declares, “you must be a raccoon, since a part of you lingers and stays with me long even after i leave your immediate vicinity!”
off to the side, anzai makes a face, sticking his tongue out and wrinkling his nose in an expression of disgust. “eugh. that one was nasty, and not in the fun way.”
kurita dogpiles on shamelessly, “sorry, rizzmaster-chan, but that one was far from your best work…”
she deflates, the movement all animated as her shoulders slump and her face rearranges into a pout and her brows furrow. “i know, but i really wanted to go with a black-and-white theme to match his hair today…besides, you know i work best with a previous sentence to respond to!”
tsugeura pumps his fist in what is meant to be an encouraging motion but which really just makes him seem like he’s about to challenge a bear to a fight. discreetly, the people around him back away a little. “don’t mind, don't mind, rizzmaster-chan! failures are just opportunities to improve!”
she squints at him, distracted from putting on her exaggerated act of disappointment. “why are you, like, literally a walking motivational youtube video.”
he throws his head back as guffaws shake his entire frame. “that is because i am the motivational youtube video!”
she thinks on that response for a bit, and then elects to move on from the conversation with a shrug. some things aren’t worth losing your mind over.
“so, sakura,” she turns her attention back to the boy she’s here for. “what’s your verdict?”
he’s making a face that should honestly be unattractive in every other circumstance but on him just looks frustratingly adorable. his face looks like it’s stuck between absolute disgust and complete embarrassment, with his expression all screwed up in half-confusion but still blazingly red.
all in all, with his refined features, it looks exceedingly handsome. or so she thinks, with her biased opinion.
“that would be a…” she taps her finger against her chin in consideration. “maybe a 5 on the rizz scale of sakura’s beautiful face?”
he makes a noise that’s as much like a mouse getting picked up as a train whistling. his face gets several shades darker, though she only gets a glimpse before he smothers it behind his own hand.
“looks like you got it up to a 7,” kiryu offers, the corners of his eyes crinkling in mirth.
“leave already,” sakura groans from behind his hand.
“oh? but i haven’t given you your bento yet!” she whines, fully aware that sakura’s complaint was just his tsundere tendencies talking.
he makes a hrrnnn sort of sound like a rumbling in his chest. stubbornly, he jerks his head to the side and mutters, “i guess…if you have food, it’s fine.”
she brightens instantly, smiling so hard it nearly splits her face in half. “aww! guys, i got sakura to give verbal permission for me to stay!”
sakura buries his face in one hand again. with the other, he reaches out blindly and says, “give it to me already.”
“hmm?” she makes an inquisitive sort of noise, tilting her head to the side as she glances down at his outreached hand. slowly, she gains a mischievous glint in her eye.
“oho? if you wanted to hold my hand, you could’ve just asked directly, sakura,” she grins playfully.
sakura yelps, the sound like that of an offended cat, and rips his hand away at the speed of light. he’s blushing all the way up to his ears now, a fact he tries and fails to hide as he ducks his head.
“okay, okay,” she laughs, “i’m sorry, i’ll stop teasing.”
she drops the neatly wrapped bento on his desk with an apologetic smile and adds, “here’s your lunchbox.”
casually, she glances up at the clock. upon seeing the time, she instantly panics, “ah—i’d love to stay longer, but i gotta make it back to my school. i’ll see you tomorrow!”
with that, she darts out of their classroom and they hear her footsteps thudding against the hallway floor as she makes a mad dash downstairs and out of the school.
kiryu leans against the window and watches in amusement as her distant figure runs down the path leading out of their school. “sakura-chan, who knew you were so good with girls? a personally delivered pick-up line and a handmade bento everyday…”
sakura’s face seems to have cooled down after the departure of the cause of its redness. “it’s not like i’m doing anything special,” he denies, though it’s a half-hearted defence. “she just…keeps coming back.”
“she does, doesn’t she?” suo offers, and on the surface it seems like a harmless affirmation of sakura’s words, but anyone who knows him well enough can sense the hostility beneath his rhetorical question.
the class shudders as a collective unit.
suo corners her, one day, after another of her daily visits to sakura.
“suo,” she acknowledges, wary. she’s not so unobservant that his dislike of her has gone unnoticed, but she still acts amiably towards him regardless.
“you’ve come yet again today,” he comments.
she eyes him, gaze just short of a glare. “i have.”
"so—what do you want?" he asks pleasantly, the tips of his bangs brushing his face as he tilts his head in a silent threat.
she doesn't back down, not even one bit. she holds her head high and raises her head so she's holding his gaze.
"i want to date him. i want to bring him out to every restaurant in this town. i want to take care of him when he falls sick. i want to hold hands with him while we're out on the street. i want to patch him up after fights and tell him to be careful. i want to ruffle his hair and compliment every quality he has. i want to tell him all of what i just told you. i want to love him as he is."
suo makes a quiet noise of consideration, eyes still narrowed in a polite smile. "hmm."
“do you want him to be happy, or do you want him to be yours?”
she freezes, smile solidifying on her face like dried glue. it’s silent until she breaks it with a laugh, the sound of it far too casual for it to be anything but a deflection. “that’s—well, i don’t like the implications of that question.”
“you’re deflecting,” he observes coolly.
“i am,” she acknowledges, smile still on her face.
he doesn't respond, letting the silence marinate until her smile twitches. barely a twitch at all, really, but still there.
"well..." she dawdles, before continuing, "i guess i've been doing the former this whole time. so i want him to be happy, even if that means he won't be mine."
he raises an eyebrow. "and you're still planning on pursuing him?"
"i'm not one to give up easy when it comes to things i truly care about," she says easily, honesty refilling her posture with confidence. "so unless he makes it clear he's rejecting me, i'll keep doing what i'm doing now."
he doesn’t show any reaction to that, maintaining his current pose. they just watch each other like two circling predators, her not backing off one bit even in the face of the coldness he wields like a weapon. they remain like that until she speaks up to break the silence.
"are you going to be in my way?" she challenges. there’s a sort of fearlessness in her voice and boldness in her gaze that imply she would fight anything and anyone stopping her from getting what she wants, including him.
suo doesn’t doubt it, really.
still, he lets the tension build between them, holding his head tilt and fixed smile in place. he lets the silence sink in, really sink in, and watches as she doesn't cave under the pressure, doesn't even fidget or hesitate.
"no," he decides finally, breaking the tension, "i don't think i will."
she doesn’t relax, exactly, but her shoulders do straighten the vaguest bit. huffing triumphantly, she says, "good, because i'd rather get along with the people he cares about."
suo maintains the faux friendly expression on his face when he responds, "what a coincidence. i as well."
he maintains it even when she processes the meaning behind his words and flushes red. it triggers a sense of deja vu as he observes the red spreading across her face, a colour she tries and fails to hide behind a palm.
ahh, it seems love really makes a person similar to the object of their affections.
it takes another month of daily visits until sakura directly address the whole situation. they’re thankfully alone this time, squirrelled away in a nook of the school where no one should overhear them. she hopes so, at least.
"you know that—" sakura cuts himself off sharply, biting off his words with a harsh snap of his teeth. visibly forcing the words out through his gritted teeth, he struggles to continue, "you know that—i can't. reciprocate."
he scrunches up his face in a half-grimace, as if physically regurgitating what he wants to say out through his mouth. "not—not for a long while, at least."
she blinks and tilts her head. knowing this show of vulnerability can't be easy, she tries to hold back a smile. keeping her face open and sincere, she responds clearly, "i've told you. i'll wait for as long as you need. as long as you want. i'll be here. always."
sakura recoils as always—not in disgust or rejection, but just plain shock. from his face, she reads the surprise upon being given trust again, and again, and again, despite already being given it countless times before.
"it's okay. my feelings for you aren't that shallow. i'd wait eternity for you."
her words are steady, enunciated slowly so that the heavy intent behind each of them can be sensed from just her intonation. the said heavy intent—it went far deeper than her usual flirtatious, teasing comments. it was honest. it was genuine. it was determined.
sakura’s face flushes pink, the shade of cherry blossoms growing in the spring. the shade of something new and unfamiliar but still just as excruciatingly beautiful. she can't hold back her smile this time, her own ears darkening to a shade similar to his face before the boy she liked so, so painfully much.
glimpsing her smile just deepened his blush, and he couldn't help jerking his face to the side and twisting his mouth in something close to a pout. her heart twinges—just a little, at the loss of being able to look directly at his blushing face.
it starts like this: her, staring, head pillowed on her folded arms as she watches him from next to where he’s sitting at the table.
“what?” he says, on the verge of irritability but evidently suppressing his tone so it sounds less so.
she blinks in surprise, like she didn’t even realise she was staring. he scowls at this, almost raring to snap, but she speaks first.
“ah—sorry,” she grins. “it’s just—”
she looks up at him as she says this, pupils dark as the depths of the ocean. he thinks that if he gave in even the slightest bit, it would pull him in and swallow him whole.
“—i want to eat you alive, sometimes.”
he doesn’t register what she said, at first. then the words and their meaning slam into him all at once, and he promptly bursts into flames.
“h-hah?” he bites out, his face completely red. he should probably be more worried about the fact that it sounds like a threat of physical harm, but right now he’s too preoccupied with the fact that his “romance sensor” had gone off instantly with that sentence. more strongly than ever, in fact.
he doesn’t know what to think about the fact that her claim was the most romantic—at least, romantic to his so-called sensor—sentence he’s ever witnessed. even more than any other pair of lovers’ interaction. even more than any other words she has ever said to him before now.
“ah—sorry, was that weird?” she says, sitting up like she just woke up from a dream.
“o-of course!” he snaps, “why wouldn’t it be?”
she shrugs, seemingly not at all offended by his words. “i dunno, i just tend to think that whenever i see you.”
he eyes her warily. “should i be worried about you becoming a cannibal and biting me or something?”
“nah,” she grins lazily. “i only bite if you’re into it.”
he blushes furiously at that but elects to move on. “so what the hell does ‘i want to eat you alive’ mean?!”
she tilts her head slightly, humming in thought. then, as if a light bulb has lit up above her head, she snaps her fingers.
“oh! i guess it’s like...you know,” she begins.
he squints at her, about to respond with a no, i don’t know, but she continues quickly enough that he settles down.
“like i want to consume you mentally in such a thorough manner that i understand every act you’ve made up until now. i want to learn about your thoughts, feelings, motivations so diligently that i can recite them from memory. i want to know you inside out and have the entirety of you to myself.”
the blush creeps down his neck and burns his collarbones, covering every inch of his skin from shoulder up. he reacts almost explosively, a flurry of sputtering confusion and bewildered embarrassment.
entirely ignoring his reaction, she grins and adds, “there, does that make more sense?”
still wary, he grits out, “so you don’t want to eat me.”
“well, now,” she laughs, “no need to sound so disappointed, sakura.”
he barely even gets to begin his flustered denials before she continues.
“also, i didn’t say that. i wouldn’t mind getting a bite or two out of those biceps, or those legs sculpted by god, if you know what i mean.”
his mind screeches to a halt and empties itself. through the blankness, the singular thought that remains coherent is that he’s done with this conversation. the instinct that rises within him and tells him to escape is primal, that of a prey animal faced down with a predator it can’t beat. his chair scrapes loudly against the floor as he stands up in a rush, desperate to leave.
she adds in one more line before he can make a hasty getaway. “ah, but a taste of those cherry lips would still be best~!”
he books it out of there and doesn’t look back at where he knows she’s cackling so hard there’s tears in her eyes.
sakura’s alone in the corridor outside his classroom after school, having forgotten something there. he asked the others to leave without him while he headed back to retrieve it, which is the only reason he’s the sole person there when he walks in on her curled up in a corner of the room.
“i’m sorry—i had this dumb fight with a friend and—i didn’t know if you’d be here, but i just—” she chokes. there’s a twisted sort of expression on her face, one that ignites concern in his chest and pulls him closer to her.
"tell me—tell me that it's stupid for me to be hung up on something stupidly small," she snarls, hands buried in her hair. "tell me i'm being an absolute fucking mopy idiot who needs to get her shit together and stop whining like a little wimp."
sakura crouches next to her, dropping one knee to the floor. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so they flutter around her like butterflies drawn to the sweet smell of a flower covered in thorns. this is completely new territory, one he's far too unfamiliar with to do anything.
so he just—stays. he stays next to her, close enough to reach out and touch, but still doesn't do it for fear he'll be burned from the intensity radiating off of her.
"tell me," she demands again, voice like the snap of a whip. "tell me all the things i just said."
sakura doesn't say anything. his mouth opens and closes and—he can't say anything.
"please," she begs, voice cracking. "yell at me, scream at me, call me all kinds of vile insults and say things that you know will hurt."
"no," he finally manages to speak, "i can't do that."
"i need to—" she stutters, "i need this. please."
sakura gazes at her, hesitant.
"i can't go to anyone else with this request. there's no one else that i trust enough to be able to hurt me in the way i need. you can do it, can't you?" she pleads.
sakura's still doubtful, something she seems to read on his face. so she looks at him with eyes like choppy waves in the ocean and says, "it's because it's you that i can trust you to do it. no matter what you say, it'll only be a surface wound. do you understand? it's because it's you. i need you to do this. it won't hurt as much if it's you. and it has to hurt because i need to hurt right now."
sakura’s quiet. at least, until she lets out an exasperated scream-groan and grabs him by the collar. it catches him off-guard, which is the only reason why she succeeds in pulling him up and slamming him against the wall. his eyes squeeze shut from the slam, his world temporarily reduced to darkness as a surprised exhale is forced out of him with the impact.
when sakura opens his eyes again, she's right up in his face. her expression is screwed up in a scowl, gritted teeth showing like a furious, rabid animal.
"fight me, dammit!" she shouts, frustrated tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "say i'm overdramatic and extreme and far too worked up. say you hate me, you want me dead, you never want to see me again. say every bad thought you've ever had about me and make it hurt!"
he scrunches up his eyebrows in a grimace, eyes narrowing and mouth firmly shut. it’s not a verbal denial but it gets his opinion across just as effectively regardless. she gazes at his display of obstinate refusal and—something seems to shift in her face. the tsunami in her eyes flatten out into the calm expanse of an empty pond, like the surface of a mirror about to crack.
she looks at sakura with those lifeless eyes, and says quietly, "if you can't even do this one, singular, stupid thing, then i guess you really are good for nothing but your fists."
his inhale that follows is sharp. it's the pained draw of breath of an injured animal. inadvertently, there's the urge to retaliate, to hurt her twice as bad as she hurt him with those words.
so that's what sakura does.
"you," he snarls, fearlessly shaking off her loosened grip on his collar and stepping forward to meet her unfazed stare with his own. "do you think anyone ever really likes you? you barge your way into everyone else's life like some pesky, annoying little bug that no one wants there."
the corner of her mouth twitches at that. still, she doesn't let sakura finish. instead, she cuts off his words with her own, "yeah? that's real grand coming from someone who doesn't even understand the meaning of social interaction! you know, if you keep going on like this, you're genuinely going to die alone."
"i'm not the one that's going to die alone. look at you. you're the one that has no one by your side!" sakura lets his volume rise with his fury, obscuring the hurt he's feeling. "do you know why? it's because no one wants to be next to you!"
she barks out a laugh, a twisted, half-muffled sound that strangles itself out of existence. there's honest-to-god tears trailing down her cheeks now, but she ignores them in favour of shouting back, "speak for yourself! your head is so far up your own ass half the time that you can't even see the people next to you! i may be alone, but at least i'm trying to change that. unlike you, who never grew out of your preteen rebellious phase and won't let a single person in!"
sakura reels back at that, heart hammering in his chest. the anger in his chest sharpens into something dangerous, and he makes the next rebuttal hurt.
staring right into her eyes, he growls, "you know, there's no point trying so hard putting up a front when no one gives a shit about both who you really are and who you pretend to be."
it's silent for far too long. when sakura registers that her responses have stopped, her breaths are ragged and her head is lowered. for a second, he almost feels bad, but then she sighs.
"yeah, i guessed as much," she says, so softly he wouldn't have heard if they weren't so close together.
then, she smiles. it catches sakura off guard, which is why he doesn't process the words she says before she turns and runs. the phrase freezes him to the spot, one arm half-lifted in an aborted motion to stop her—but it doesn’t touch. in seconds, she vanishes out of the classroom door.
sakura doesn't realise he's crying until the warm droplets splatter against his skin. they slip out slowly at first, as if testing the waters, and then they begin to fall faster and faster without stopping. suddenly his eyes are too wet and his cheeks are warm and his throat is clogged, and he doesn’t know what to do about anything. sinking to the floor, he lets the foreign feeling of tears wash over him as what she said echo in his ears.
thank you.
sakura gets to school later tomorrow, subconsciously trying to avoid her.
it doesn’t really work, because when he enters the classroom, she’s already talking to kiryu. he watches them for a bit as he walks to his seat, her animated movements and kiryu’s accompanying nods and comments.
when her gaze sweeps across him, though, she jumps up with a habitual grin.
“sakura!” she practically shouts, same as ever. “here’s your lunchbox!”
“no pickup line today?” kiryu teases, though his casual attitude sobers up a little when they both remain quiet.
she eventually grins, breaking the tension, and says, “nah. gotta switch things up sometimes, y’know?”
kiryu shrugs and accepts the deflection for what it is, letting the strange interaction slide.
she leaves soon after, waving goodbye at sakura and ducking out the door.
sakura opens the lunchbox during lunch time as usual, though this time a letter slips out of it. he stares at it for a second, but opens it.
dear sakura,
i’m really sorry for last time. i wasn’t in the right headspace and i said such mean things to you. i think i just needed an outlet, so i took it out on you. i shouldn’t have and i can never make up for it, but you still put up with my tantrum even then. thank you so much for that.
sakura grips it a little tighter than he should, crinkling the paper, before he folds it back up and slips it into his pocket.
despite having written a letter, she still finds him after school. when he sees her, she’s red-faced and huffing at the furin school gate like she’s out of breath from running right over after her classes ended. his friends take one look at their tense expressions and leave them alone to work whatever it is out.
“sakura,” she says, but he speaks first.
“why did you thank me?”
it comes out harsher than sakura means to. he winces, knowing that was a bad start. he tries again, “i said things that were just as bad to you.”
she shakes her head. “you weren't completely wrong. i asked for it, anyway.”
sakura opens his mouth to rebut, but she forges onwards. “i guess i was so worried what all of you would think about me that i put up a front. you were right that i should stop being so scared about being myself with you guys.”
she pauses for a bit, short enough that sakura can’t cut in.
“thanks to you, i think i want to try being honest for once. that’s why i was talking to kiryu today, too! i really want to become actual friends with the guys, too.”
sakura’s lips tighten into a thin line. “but still, i’m sorry.”
she smiles. “i’m sorry too. let’s just call it even, ‘kay?”
sakura nods jerkily. she rolls her weight onto her tiptoes, before dropping back onto her heels, as if trying to dispel her anxiety. they stand there in silence for a while, two teenagers who care for each other just as much as they know they’ve hurt the other.
it’s strange, really. it should have been a painful fight that led to the end of their friendship, maybe, that caused them to drift apart and isolate from the other, but somehow it feels like it’s cemented their relationship even further.
the next time it happens is after school again. he steps over the threshold of his classroom—and she’s there.
sakura finds her huddled beneath a classroom table, of all things, with one hand in her hair.
she’s whimpering—he realises when he steps closer—gasping little sobs in between shuddering draws of breath. they're an animalistic sort of sound, one that’s more instinct than any conscious human act. they unsettle him in a way he can’t describe.
“hey,” sakura tries, but she doesn’t respond. doesn’t even react in a way that indicates she heard him. though, her eyes do shift to him for a split second and then unfocus again. she’s not quite all there, he can tell, so he keeps his movements slow and wide as he draws nearer to avoid startling her.
“what’s wrong?” sakura tries again, slowly reaching a hand out without making contact. it’s just a guess, but he doesn’t think she would react well to physical contact right now. so he refrains from it, even though she would usually welcome touch in every other circumstance.
she zeroes in on his hand instantly, gaze sliding back into sharp focus, and seems to almost shrink away from it until she aborts the motion. it’s a slow process, letting her draw back into reality, watching her eyes flick from his hand to his face and back to his hand, but he waits patiently regardless.
“i—” she finally chokes out, though her voice is raspy from sobbing. “i just need—a minute. just—just give me a minute. just let me—”
the end of her sentence dissolves into another sob, and she retreats back into silence.
“okay,” sakura says, ”okay. take as long as you need.”
sakura still doesn’t know what else to do. but he knows now that company can help, so he lowers himself into a cross-legged sitting position in front of the desk, and stays. he stays even as she buries her face in her knees and cries and cries like a little kid. he stays even as she shakes from the force of her sobs, not emitting any noise above quiet little hiccups of breath. he stays even as she digs her hand into the back of her neck, her scalp, her head, as if trying to physically push herself into curling up even smaller.
“how do i be like you?” she sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks and being haphazardly rubbed away with her jacket sleeves.
sakura hesitates, eyes wide and posture frozen like he didn’t expect that question.
“you’re so good. you’re such a good person that it hurts. you’re so good and kind and right without even trying—god, it‘s no wonder everyone loves you.”
sakura flinches slightly, unbidden, at the bitter self-hatred and sour inferiority coating those words. they weren't directed at him, he knows, but still—
"i wish i were you."
—he wonders if she hears the pain in her own voice.
when she stops crying, it’s not from having cried all her emotions out. it’s from pure exhaustion, evident from the way she pulls her head up and drags her body into a more upright sitting position beneath the desk, movements slower than moving through liquid concrete. she stops crying only because her body is physically unable to continue crying for fear it tears itself apart.
sakura opens his mouth, but doesn’t know what to say. so, he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps sitting there, letting her drag a hand across her eyes to wipe up half-dried tears and sniffing intermittently from residual sobs.
when she collects herself, there’s a flat sort of look in her eyes. not quite dull enough to be called dead, but definitely far from alive. she hugs her knees to her chest, back to the wall, still curled beneath the desk, and speaks.
“when i get like this, i need to sit in a corner.”
sakura listens, quiet.
“i need my back against something solid. it grounds me, in a way. i need it to feel some sort of security. small spaces are good, too. i don’t like to have open space behind me when i’m like this.”
sakura lets her talk, observing how her gaze is still downturned throughout the spiel. she looks so small, like this. like a child tucked beneath the table. like something so fragile it could shatter with a touch.
“i don’t want to feel like a person in this state, so i like dark spaces. it’s easier to not recognise myself as a physical existence when i can barely see myself. sometimes i smother my face in my hands or my clothes so i don’t have to see anything. it's easier that way.”
she stops here, as if realising how much she said. the pause lingers between them, curling behind his nape and coiling over his fingers. he feels it settle into his skin and sink into his chest, gathering like dead weight in his ribcage.
“thanks,” she says finally, voice all scratchy and tired and small, but still sincere. “not being alone—you being here helped a lot. really. thank you for staying.”
“...it’s no problem,” sakura hesitates, holding back the instinctive reaction to snap and fluster. it wouldn’t be right to break this moment between them, he knows, this thing that’s thinner than glass and quieter than death.
eventually, she convinces sakura to come over to her house. it’s supposed to be a study session but boredom causes both of them to end up flopped on the floor, laying on their backs.
“mm...,” she hums, eyes twinkling like pools of stars. “sakura, you—”
sakura turns his head to look at her, blinking like a cat caught in headlights. she doesn’t continue, though, keeping the secret curve to her mouth like a hidden joke and one hand raised to the ceiling. despite the same impatience in his chest rearing its head, he chooses to wait this time. gradually, she sorts out her thoughts before finally opening her mouth again.
“you’re kind of like...” slowly, she swipes her hand from left to right, as if trying to draw a curve in midair. “...the sun, you know?”
“the sun?” he asks, entirely lost. his cheeks dust red, as if preemptively sensing that she was about to say something embarrassing.
“everyone around you, you’ve motivated into changing for the better somehow. like we’re all in the shadows and you’re bringing us into the light. you shine so bright that it’s hard to look away. we just can’t help but want to—stop and stare, i guess. you’re so dazzling and so much bigger than life. it’s breathtaking.”
“you—” he chokes, face blushing red. “that’s—”
“ahh, man,” she mercifully cuts off his sputtering with a sigh. “i like you so much, sakura. seriously.”
"you—" he repeats, face furiously red, "stop saying shit like that all the time!!"
she just grins in response, with zero indication that she plans on stopping anytime soon. they fall back into silence for a few minutes, watching the unmoving tiles of the ceiling.
“you know, sakura,” she says, by way of prompting him to listen.
“hmm?” sakura hums lightly, the sound low and rumbly like the purr of a cat. irrationally, she wants to press her hand to the side of his throat and feel it rattle up through his vocal cords.
“i’m really glad you were born.”
sakura pauses. it’s quiet for so long that she looks at him, wondering if he’s somehow fallen asleep.
he’s wide awake, it seems, but for once his face isn’t at all easy to read.
there’s a unreadable sort of expression on his face. something that could be described as pensive, maybe, if she knew what pensiveness even looked like on sakura. there’s a tension in the jut of his cheekbones and the sharp lines of his eyebrows above his eyes, which are somehow both familiar and foreign to her.
sakura’s completely still. stiller than she’s ever seen him. like a statue carved from white marble, something alive only in name and cold as winter to the touch.
when sakura finally speaks, it’s softer than a falling sakura petal.
“...i think i’m glad too.”