Chapter Text
There was a summer, around eight years ago, that Sakura remembers with an awful amount of clarity.
It was hot and unbearably humid like Japanese summers usually are. But that year, in particular, was worse than all the others. He hates that he can bring up the memory like a film roll, each scene so vivid despite the sinking, suffocating feeling it inevitably brings.
He remembers sweat soaked clothes, the incessant screams of cicadas, the way the sun hit his room at exactly four’o’clock, burning through his cheap polyester curtains.
He would overhear talks about summer vacation. Beaches, swimming, catching fireflies, watching fireworks bloom in the sky and painting it in bright, colorful lights.
He remembers, because he once saw them through his shabby window. They were loud, and hurt his eyes the longer he looked, but he couldn’t help but watch. It was almost enough to make him forget his life entirely. The way everything seemed to be set up to act against him. The ironic, almost funny way that the universe would stomp his hope down beneath its feet no matter what he did.
It let him have this one thing. Let this last a little longer, he thought. Please, he begged.
Sakura was disappointed to find that he woke up the next morning to bright, clear blue skies.
—
The spiral of his brain starts with Kiryu, and his big, big mouth. It usually starts like this, Sakura thinks. With someone saying something off-handed, almost as an afterthought, that sends him into a dizzying, startling realization. A Pandora’s box that he’d rather not open now, or ever, really.
“Why do you only let Suo touch you?” Kiryu asks, a genuine expression on his face that tells him he’s completely serious.
Sakura stops with the straw halfway to his lips, the cup in his hand numbing his fingers the longer he keeps it there.
“What?” He asks back, confused. Because, the question was entirely random. It was out of the blue, something that can be so misconstrued that Sakura honestly admires Kiryu’s ability to say things out loud without thinking of them beforehand.
“Like, whenever I put my arm around you, you always give me ten seconds before you’re pushing me off. Or when I lace our arms together, you act like I’m made of needles. But with Suo,” Kiryu sits a little straighter, looks him directly in the eyes, “You let him.”
Sakura looks back into Kiryu’s eyes, green and wide, and then looks away. He opens his mouth: “He doesn’t do all of that.” Sakura refutes.
“He holds your hand.”
“That was one time.”
“And he touches your hair even when there’s nothing to fix.”
“You do that too.”
“But I don’t look at you the same way he does,” Kiryu pauses, trying to find the right words. “His eyes light up. I swear it looks like there’s a million tiny fireflies in them.”
Sakura thinks his heart skips a beat. He asks, dumbly, “Really?”
“You haven’t noticed?” Surprise mixed with disbelief.
Sakura doesn’t respond.
He thinks about it even after they both go home, with his blanket tucked up to his chin, eyes staring into some dark corner of his room.
He didn’t notice. Not at all.
—
Sakura thinks he gets what Kiryu was talking about.
Originally, he thought Kiryu was pulling his leg, saying it just to get a reaction out of him. Or maybe, Kiryu got it all wrong, and he created an entirely false narrative. Sakura hoped that was the case, since he really didn’t feel like opening a can of worms that he didn’t even realize was there.
This led to Sakura over-analyzing every single interaction.
When everyone else went home, Suo would stay around with him the longest, practically walking Sakura to his apartment even when there was no need to do so. His touches linger longer, too. More than it is to be socially acceptable, Sakura thinks. But it felt good. He didn’t mind it, so was it ever really a problem?
And maybe they did spend the most time together, grabbing breakfast at Pothos and walking together to the school gates all the way to the classroom. Suo sat next to him, or at least in close proximity, each time. And they’d end the day with each other, too.
But that’s normal, right? Since he’s his vice-captain. Since he’s his friend.
Right?
—
Maybe it is, in fact, a bit weird.
The day starts like this: Sakura wakes up and immediately feels on edge. Maybe it was because he had a nightmare, waking up with sweat dripping down his neck paired with tremors that went down to the bone. Or maybe he’d been doing too much overthinking lately, stressing his brain enough to where he’s now dealing with the repercussions.
It’s the weekend. Saturday, to be specific, and Sakura is relieved that he doesn’t have to get up and put energy into doing anything at all.
Those thoughts are short-lived as his phone chimes, loud enough to make him flinch. It sounds multiple times. He doesn’t have to look to know it’s the singular group chat that he’s in, the one that Nirei asked(read: forced) him to join a while back.
Sakura barely finds it in himself to turn on his side and pick his phone up, his eyes squinting with the onslaught of notifications. He picks up bits and pieces. Something about hanging out at a new cafe and going over to Kiryu’s house after.
As if on cue, Kiryu pings him directly.
@ Sakura, are u coming with?
His immediate answer is no. Although, after another moment of rethinking, Sakura thinks better of it.
He sends: Yeah. What time?
Because he’d rather go out with people instead of sitting in his room all day doing nothing, which, surprises even him. But he’s experienced enough of these instances to know that all it leads to is the rumination of his own thoughts, which is torturous on its own.
What he needs is distraction, so he’ll take it.
Kiryu responds to him and Sakura gets out from the blanket tangled around his legs. The cold air nips at his ankles and sends shivers down his spine, goosebumps trailing along the surface of his skin.
Summer is almost over.
—
Sakura has his first taste of alcohol at seventeen.
Again, it’s Kiryu’s fault. Sakura hates to blame people, especially his friends, but he really has no one else to pin this on; except, maybe himself.
This time, it started with a game, and an inconspicuous bottle of vodka that came from his father’s kitchen cabinet.
“Let’s play truth or dare.” He says, innocently, and Sakura could’ve almost believed that there’d be no hidden intentions.
Everyone agreed with little fanfare. The everyone in question consisted of him, Kiryu, Nirei, Suo, and Tsuge. But it was the moment that Kiryu pulled out a bottle from under his bed that Sakura felt the need to flee.
“Wait. What is that?”
“This? It’s my dad’s alcohol.”
“Why are you bringing it out?”
“Truth or dare isn’t fun without any actual consequences, Sakura.”
And, yeah, sure, maybe they’re already in their third year of high-school, and almost old enough to drink legally, and things like this are part of the teenage experience that everyone loves to talk about. But—
“Sounds interesting.” The words come out of Suo’s mouth.
Sakura whips his head to his left just to make sure he actually heard right. He looks around the circle they’ve made in the center of Kiryu’s room, and nobody else seems to be as nervous as Sakura himself.
Huh?
“Am I the only one who’s worried right now?”
“Maybe?”
“Nirei, you drank beer once by accident and ended up with a hangover the next day.” Sakura says, trying to convince everyone that this really isn’t a good idea.
“Hey! That was one time. I swear I won’t drink anything tonight…”
“Right, right,” Kiryu nods his head, “Only the loser will drink. It’ll just be a shot, I promise.”
“What’s the definition of a loser, exactly?”
“Anyone who isn’t able to do the truth or dare.”
“That’s unfair!”
“I think it sounds fun!” Tsuge exclaims, with his big, big mouth.
Sakura’s arguments are stomped on amidst everyone else’s cheers of excitement. He gets tired of fighting them quickly when it’s obvious no one’s listening, so Sakura makes the decision to do whatever dumb things they make him do. He won’t drink tonight.
Yeah. Definitely not.
—
It takes approximately ten minutes for Sakura to cave in.
Nirei is already a shot in after refusing to show his notebook to anybody, his cheeks looking suspiciously flushed. Kiryu and Tsuge laugh at him, and it’s glaringly obvious to Sakura that they just wanted to see their friends tipsy.
“It’s Sakura’s turn!”
He looks back at Kiryu after inspecting Nirei for maybe a bit too long, “Dare.”
“I dare you to,” Kiryu hums, puts his finger to his chin, “kiss Suo.”
Ah. This was his plan.
Sakura reaches for the shot glass without any prompting, “Pour it.”
Kiryu’s eyes get wide for a split second before falling back into his default expression, “Aw, not even on the cheek?”
The glass is filled, and Sakura takes it in one swig. He tries to avoid it touching his tongue as much as possible; smelling it was enough to turn him off. His throat is coated in warmth almost immediately, and it takes effort to not cough it up all over Kiryu’s carpet.
“Fuck, do people actually drink this for fun?”
“Well, it’s mainly just to get drunk.”
“I don’t get the appeal in that either.”
“Sakura, it’s called youth!” Nirei shouts, his words obviously more slurred than before.
Sakura sighs and rolls his eyes as a response.
—
Sakura sits on the bathroom floor, knees tucked up against his chest with his arms squeezed around him.
He escaped twenty minutes into the game, three vodka shots later. So an utter defeat on his end. Kiryu, two, Sakura, zero.
Honestly, he thinks he’s a little drunk, and with that comes the slow realization that maybe he’s a lightweight just like Nirei. He’d really hoped that wouldn’t be the case.
His face feels way warmer than it probably should. Actually, his entire body feels close to being on fire, and there’s a pit of warmth laying inside the bottom of his stomach. When he dares to uncover his eyes from the crook of his elbow, the world spins, slowly. And then the bathroom light he forgot he turned on blinds him enough to where it triggers a headache to grow in his skull.
A soft knock at the door knocks Sakura out of his staring contest with the floor.
“Sakura? Are you okay in there?”
Suo’s voice is muffled by the door between them. Sakura takes a moment to lift his head and licks his lips before responding, “Yeah, I am.” He thankfully doesn’t bite his tongue or slur his words.
“Can I come in?”
Sakura tries to stand up from his position on the floor, but the door ahead of him is bending in odd ways, and the tiled floor makes his socked feet slip from under him. He grits out a, “Yeah,” before he eats shit and embarrasses himself further.
The door clicks open, and Sakura sees Suo’s feet before he sees his face. Suo crouches down, only a few inches away, and grabs Sakura’s hand. He rubs small circles with his thumb, traces over the veins leading up to his fingers. It grounds him more than he’d like to admit; it’s also awfully intimate, and Sakura wonders if this is normal, too.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
Sakura looks up, finally. Suo smiles, as if the mere sight of Sakura’s face is enough to appease him; his face gets warmer at the thought.
Sakura thinks over the question, and realizes he doesn’t really want to go home. It’d be dark, just the slightest bit cold that comes with late summer nights, and too quiet for his liking.
He shakes his head, “I just need some air.”
“Alright,” Suo moves to stand up, pulling Sakura with him, “just let me know if you change your mind.”
Sakura’s vision swims again, but it’s less vigorous this time. He lets Suo drag him along outside the bathroom, and the voices of Kiryu and Nirei can be heard over some random J-pop song that Sakura doesn’t know the name of.
Suo interrupts them by raising his voice just enough to be heard over everything else, “I’m taking Sakura outside for a bit, we’ll be back soon!”
Kiryu and Tsuge respond while Nirei nods his head with a little too much force, “No problem!”, “We’ll wait for you guys!”
Sakura distantly worries about the state of Nirei, but figures that Kiryu wouldn’t get him too trashed if he had any sort of conscience. With the way Nirei is slumped over a large pillow, Sakura isn’t too sure if he’s right. He pushes it to the back of his mind for now, since Suo is currently leading him out the front door.