Archive of Our Own

It had been two days since Endo revealed that Suo wouldn’t be coming back to Furin, to his side. And to make matters worse, Sakura had caught a cold after wandering aimlessly beneath the pouring rain before finally curling up underneath his blanket.

He hadn’t gone to school since then. The thought of stepping into Furin without Suo there made something twist painfully inside his chest. So he stayed buried beneath his covers while the hours blurred together unnoticed. At some point, his phone had started ringing endlessly from somewhere beside his pillow.

He ignored every single one of them.

The buzzing would eventually stop, only to start all over again minutes later, vibrating against the wooden floor beside his futon like a stubborn reminder that the world outside was still moving without him. Sakura only pulled the blanket higher over his head, shutting it all out.

Underneath it, the world felt as though it had stopped for a moment. None of his problems seemed to matter as the darkness swallowed him whole beneath the covers. He had almost forgotten how it felt, the familiar ache wrapped tightly around the loneliness in his chest. Somewhere along the way, he had let himself grow greedy. He had stepped too close to the blinding warmth of the sun that was Suo Hayato, and now that warmth was gone, it left him freezing in its wake.

His breathing came out uneven as coughs tore from his sore throat one after another. His head felt unbearably hot, yet his body trembled with chills. Even lifting his arm felt exhausting. Maybe the fever had already settled deep into his bones, muddling his thoughts until they spiraled endlessly back to Suo.

It was hard to accept the truth: that Suo might not have felt the same way about him at all. Had all this time meant nothing to him? Had Sakura only been someone convenient to pass the time with? Hell, had Suo ever truly thought about him once they were apart?

Everything he knew about that boy felt like a lie now. Even his home address had been fake.

The thought made anger flare hot in Sakura’s chest, but it quickly turned into something more painful. Why the hell had Suo come to Furin in the first place? Why bother getting so close to him if he was only going to disappear and leave him behind? Why smile at him like that, stand beside him like that, make Sakura believe that he actually cared?

His chest tightened. Maybe it was because of the fever, but the memories wouldn’t stop surfacing. Suo’s calm voice and the teasing smile he always wore so effortlessly. The way he lingered beside Sakura without saying anything as if it was an unwritten rule that only he knew.

Sakura hated how badly he missed him.

Without realizing it, the tension in his frown slowly weakened. His eyes crinkled shut instead as warmth gathered along his lashes before a tear slipped free, trailing silently down his burning cheek.

And he had made up his mind. Tomorrow, he was going to Kasai. He would track Suo down himself if he had to. He would grab that stupid Red Chanpuru officer by the collar and shake answers out of him like a damn police dog on a scent trail. By hook or by crook, Sakura was going to find Suo and force the truth out of him.

Because that was the thing about dogs, wasn’t it?

Once they attached themselves to someone, they would search endlessly for the one they had chosen, matter how far they wandered. They would wait loyally even after being abandoned, stubbornly believing the person they loved would eventually come back for them.

*

Sakura woke up with a chill running through his body and a light headache that he decided was still manageable enough for him to make the trip to Kasai that day. His movements were sluggish as he dragged himself out of bed, taking a moment to steady himself before washing up in the sink. The cold water barely helped, but it cleared enough of the fog in his mind for him to function.

In the kitchen, he forced down a slice of expired bread, chewing without much thought as if taste no longer mattered. After that, the screen immediately lit up with missed calls and unread messages. Sakura stared at them for a moment before typing out a short text to Nirei.

Out of town. Don’t know how long.

He decided against bringing the phone with him. If he did, it would only keep vibrating endlessly with calls and messages he did not have the energy to deal with. So he left it behind.

Before leaving, he gave his small, rundown apartment one last look. The space felt quieter than usual, almost hollow, as if the darkness had come back to claim its space. Then he put on his shoes and locked the door, a habit Suo had once insisted on until it slowly became second nature to him.

The bus arrived fifteen minutes after he reached the station. Sakura boarded without hesitation and took a seat at the very back near the window, leaning his head slightly against the glass as the vehicle began to move.

On the way to Kasai, his mind kept circling back to the questions he had been avoiding since the moment everything fell apart. He thought about what he would say to Suo, how he would force the truth out no matter how much it hurt to hear it. The more he thought, the heavier his head felt, as if the fever had decided to punish him for every unanswered question.

What if Endo was right and Suo had never truly been on his side in the first place? What if everything had been one-sided from the beginning? What then? Had Suo really abandoned him and Furin without a second thought?

His headache worsened as the thoughts grew louder and more tangled, each one sinking deeper into his being. Sakura finally tore his gaze away from the window, watching the world blur past in streaks of color and light. His eyes slowly grew heavier as exhaustion crept back in, and he leaned his head against the glass, hoping that sleep would help lessen the weight in his heart even just for a little while.

The bus driver’s loud announcement of arrival at Kasai jolted Sakura awake from his light sleep. For a moment, he blinked in confusion, his body still languid from the fever that had been lingering since morning, before he straightened himself and stood up as the bus slowed to a stop.

The moment he stepped outside, he was greeted by the calm view of the river stretching through the city and the faint smell of soup drifting through the air, a scent that would have easily made his stomach growl had he been here under different circumstances.

He looked around slowly, taking in his surroundings. Kasai was not all that different from Makochi. The streets were lined with small stalls run by residents, hawkers called out from different corners and the distant laughter of children echoed through the open space. There was a familiar warmth to it all, almost reminding Sakura of home in a way he did not expect.

Maybe this was exactly why Suo had come to Makochi in the first place because it carried the same quiet resemblance to Kasai like a smaller reflection of where he had once lived.

The thought lingered in Sakura’s mind for a moment longer than he liked, but he quickly pushed it aside. He did not come here to get lost in memories that were not even his. He had a purpose and right now that purpose was simple, gathering information that could lead him to Suo. And if there were anywhere people talked freely, it would be a restaurant.

Sakura scanned the area carefully, trying to decide where to go. He was not particularly hungry, but he figured that eating something would help him regain enough strength to move around and ask questions properly. Besides, he had already accepted the fact that trouble might find him whether he was looking for it or not, especially as an outsider wandering into unfamiliar territory.

At the end of a narrow alley, a ramen shop caught his attention. It was modest but busy, with a steady flow of customers coming in and out, which usually meant both good food and a constant stream of conversation. Without overthinking it, he made his way toward it.

As he walked, he noticed the stares he received from the locals. A few people paused their conversations to glance at him, including an elderly woman tending to her flower shop who looked at him with quiet caution. Sakura only offered a small, awkward smile before continuing on his way, pretending not to notice the attention.

Once he stepped inside the ramen shop, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The place was warm and noisy, filled with overlapping chatter and the sound of bowls clinking against wooden tables. Several seats were occupied by elderly customers enjoying their meals, while a few tables remained scattered and empty across the room.

Sakura chose a seat not too far into the shop, settling himself beside a table of elementary school students who were happily laughing and eating their ramen while chatting with each other. The sight made something in him soften for a brief moment, and without realizing it, a small smile tugged at his lips.

The table directly behind him was unoccupied, left neatly arranged with chopsticks and condiments untouched.

However, as he sat properly and faced forward, he became aware of the attention in the room shifting toward him. The chatter that had once filled the space seemed to lower slightly and even the group of children beside him quieted down as though sensing something unfamiliar in his presence. It was not hostility, but it was not welcoming either, more like cautious curiosity.

Sakura did not react to it. He simply took the menu from the table, opened it and began reading.

He ordered the original chicken ramen even though he usually went for the spicy chili chicken ramen, but considering his fever was still lingering and his head felt slightly heavy, he decided it would be safer to avoid anything too spicy that might worsen his condition.

The atmosphere inside the restaurant gradually returned to its earlier liveliness as the brief tension faded, with conversations growing louder again and the clatter of bowls and chopsticks filling the space once more. Even the people around him resumed their chatter as though nothing unusual had happened, allowing the shop to settle back into its normal rhythm.

He could not help but catch pieces of conversation drifting in from the surrounding tables as he waited for his order, the voices overlapping in a steady buzz that filled the ramen shop. Some of it was in languages he could not understand, slipping past him like background wind, while the rest formed broken pieces of local gossip and daily concerns that he unconsciously put together as he listened.

From one table, he heard talk about how the town’s delinquent activity had been decreasing lately due to the influence of the Red Chanpuru officers, a name that immediately made Sakura’s ears perks, his focus pulling toward the conversation without him meaning to. Another table nearby was arguing about the current economy and how it had started affecting small businesses in the area, their voices tense but familiar in the way people spoke when something directly impacted their livelihood.

As his ramen was finally placed in front of him, the waiter who served him exchanged a few words with an elderly customer nearby and casually mentioned, “The Red officers must have plans to solve that.”

At that, Sakura could not help himself as he lifted his head slightly, his mouth parting as if he was about to ask a question, but before he could form the words or even decide how to approach it, the waiter had already moved away to attend to other customers, leaving his curiosity hanging unanswered.

He clicked his tongue faintly under his breath and lowered his gaze back to his bowl, but the mention of the Red officers lingered in his mind as he slowly began eating. He found himself paying more attention to the conversations than the food in front of him like every passing sentence might contain something useful.

At the table beside him, the elementary school students who had been cheerful earlier were now deeply engaged in their own conversation about their martial arts class scheduled for the evening, speaking excitedly about how intense and fun it was going to be. Their voices carried a kind of innocent admiration and Sakura could even hear fragments of their dreams, some of them talking about wanting to grow strong enough to support Red Chanpuru when they became older.

Then one of the girls at the table tilted her head slightly and spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity. “Don’t you think SunFei-Nii visits frequently now?”

The rest of the table immediately reacted, some nodding while others leaned in as if trying to remember something.

“Yeah, did something happen to him?” one of the boys asked.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know,” the same boy replied after a short pause, “it just feels like something happened, you know? Because he usually would visit us about three times a week, but now it is like he is here every single day.”

The conversation grew more animated after that, with the children leaning closer to one another as their voices rose in excitement rather than worry.

“Maybe,” the girl said again after a moment, before shrugging lightly. “But who cares? I love him here.”

The table broke into laughter and agreement, several of them nodding enthusiastically.

Sakura slowed his eating without realizing it, the name SunFei lingering in his mind. Could SunFei and Suo be the same person? He had never heard Suo introduce himself that way before, but somehow the description matched too well to be a coincidence.

The thought stayed with him longer than he expected.

He finished his ramen and paid for his meal shortly after before preparing himself to continue his search for clues about Suo’s whereabouts.

*

He started by approaching an old man who was monitoring his fruit stall nearby, choosing him simply because he looked like someone who would know the area well and had likely seen many people pass through over the years.

Sakura tried to describe Suo carefully, forcing himself to recall every detail with precision as he spoke, mentioning the long earrings that always caught the light when Suo moved, the eyepatch that gave him a distinct and almost striking presence and his red hair that made him stand out even in a crowd. However, the old man only frowned slightly, tilting his head as if trying to understand, before responding in a mix of the local language and broken phrases that Sakura struggled to follow. The unfamiliar words blended together in a way that made it difficult for him to find its meaning, and in the end, all he could do was shake his head in frustration and move on.

He continued walking through the streets, asking hawkers along the way, sellers calling out from their stalls and even a few children who bumped into him while running past in their play. Each time he repeated the same description, carefully pointing out Suo’s features with growing urgency as if repeating them enough times would somehow make the answer appear.

Yet every response he received was either confusion, partial understanding or sentences mixed with foreign languages that he could not comprehend, leaving him with nothing concrete to hold onto. Some people nodded as if they vaguely recognized what he was talking about, but none of them gave him anything useful, and others simply smiled politely before returning to their work as if the question did not matter at all

With every failed attempt, he felt like Suo was getting away from him.

The fever only made it worse, clouding his focus and the constant noise of the streets feel louder than usual, as though every sound was pressing down on his thoughts.

Even the descriptions he gave began to feel more vivid in his mind than in reality, Suo’s long earrings flashing briefly in his memory, the eyepatch that always made his expression unreadable and the red hair that stood out like something impossible to miss. Sakura could not understand how someone like that could be so hard to find in a place filled with people who seemed to know everything about everyone.

As he moved deeper into the streets, the language barrier became more noticeable, with conversations overlapping in a mix of local dialects and foreign phrases that tangled together into something he could not properly separate. He caught bits of meaning here and there, but never enough to form a clear direction and it slowly began to wear down his patience as well as his confidence.

Nonetheless, he did not stop, even as his steps became somewhat slower and his breathing became less steady, for the possibility of returning without answers felt worse than the discomfort rising in his body.

He walked for a while longer until he stumbled across an enormous monumental gate, the kind usually found at temples or important compounds, towering and intimidating as if it separated two completely different worlds. From beyond it, he could hear loud chattering mixing with the sounds of youths training and adults talking, voices overlapping in a steady rhythm that suggested life and activity inside. For a moment, he wondered if someone within could finally give him a clear answer about Suo instead of the confusing him all day.

Just as he was about to push the large gate open, a voice called out to him.

“Hey, what are you doing?

Sakura turned his head and saw two boys approaching him, both likely around his age, one with blonde hair and the other with jet black hair, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere around the gate as if they had been watching him for a while.

He did not answer at first and only looked at them in silence, his expression flat but alert.

“What are you doing?” the black-haired boy asked again, this time with a harsher tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed Sakura more carefully as if trying to judge whether he was a threat or not.

“I am looking for someone,” Sakura replied without hesitation, his voice steady despite the faint pressure building behind his eyes.

“Who are you?” the blonde boy asked next, tilting his head slightly as he studied Sakura with open curiosity.

“You can call me Sakura.”

The black-haired boy clicked his tongue briefly before speaking again, his tone becoming colder as he folded his arms across his chest. “So Sakura, what brings you, an outsider, here? Do you not have any shame walking into a place like this without permission?” He purposely emphasized the word outsider, as if trying to put Sakura in his place.

Sakura’s gaze hardened slightly as the irritation that had been building all day finally surfaced. “I said I am looking for someone,” he repeated, this time louder and more forceful as his patience began to wear thin under the heat and his worsening headache.

The blonde boy gave an amused smirk as he leaned slightly to the side. “Sorry pretty boy, but I am sure whoever you are looking for, you will not find them here.”

Sakura’s fevered brain pulsed again, the dreary ache behind his eyelids heightening as the midday heat poured down on him, fogging his thoughts. Still, he forced himself to stay focused. “Really?” he said, his voice lowering slightly as he tried to gauge their reaction, “I heard he was one of the Red Chanpuru officers.”

And reaction he got.

Both boys’ eyes widened slightly before their entire posture changed, from the casual stance they had been holding to something far more reserved and intentional, their shoulders straightening as if they had just stepped into a completely new setting. Sakura identified it right away, the change in energy clearer than anything else he had seen in Kasai.

“Who are you looking for?” the black haired boy asked again, this time folding his arms more tightly across his chest, his expression turning stern.

Sakura exhaled slowly through his nose before tilting his head slightly as he provoked them. “Do you not think it is rude that I introduced myself but you still have not told me your names? Is that how things are done in Kasai?”

For a brief moment, both of their expressions darkened in a way that would have been subtle to most people, but Sakura caught it clearly, a talent born from studying people’s faces for a long time.

The blonde boy straightened slightly before answering. “I am Bacchus.”

Then black-haired boy followed immediately after. “Rakta.”

Sakura offered them a polite. “Hmm, then, Rakta and Bacchus, could you tell me where I can find a boy with an eyepatch and red hair?”

Both of the boys held their breath.

Then Bacchus moved.

He lunged forward suddenly with an open hand strike aimed at Sakura’s left side, fast enough that it barely gave any warning at all. If Sakura had been even a fraction slower, it would have landed cleanly and likely knocked the air out of him, but he twisted his body just in time, feeling the rush of wind pass dangerously close as he narrowly avoided the hit.

“Hey, why are you suddenly attacking me?” Sakura shouted as he quickly retreated a step, but Bacchus did not give him time to reset as he followed immediately with another strike, forcing Sakura to keep dodging rather than counter.

Bacchus was fast, far faster than most people Sakura had fought before, each movement was controlled, leaving almost no opening to respond.

“What is your business with SunFei?” Bacchus demanded mid-strike, his voice carrying both anger and suspicion.

Sakura narrowly avoided another hit before shouting back in frustration, “Who the hell is SunFei supposed to be?”

“The red-haired officer you are looking for,” Bacchus snapped immediately.

Realization struck Sakura a second later.

“…Suo?”

The moment he said the name, something changed again.

A strike landed on his right ribs before he could fully react, the impact hard enough to make his breath hitch as pain spread through his side and his already fevered head grew heavier, his focus momentarily breaking as everything blurred for a second.

When Bacchus heard Suo’s name, his attack style changed somewhat, becoming less impulsive but also more calculated, as if the name itself had altered the situation. Even through his haze of pain and fever, Sakura could feel the atmosphere darken further, and if he had been fully clear-headed, he might have noticed the subtle shift in Rakta’s expression as well, the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened.

“SunFei is not here,” Bacchus said coldly, stepping back into a guarded stance as Sakura finally found a brief opening.

“You are lying,” Sakura shot back immediately, pushing through the pain in his ribs as he lunged forward and landed a series of determined strikes, each one driven more by frustration and desperation than technique. His motions were quicker than they should have been for someone in his condition, almost reckless, as though his body was acting on instinct alone despite the fever that made his vision flicker at the edges.

Even as his body screamed at him to slow down, Sakura refused, as he forced himself to keep moving.

Bacchus tightened his stance as Sakura drove forward, moving his weight lower to brace for impact and reading Sakura’s moves with precision that indicated he was anticipating. The first strike Sakura threw connected partially against Bacchus’ guard, the impact echoing through Sakura’s knuckles, but before he could follow through, Bacchus twisted his arm and redirected the force, using Sakura’s momentum against him to pull him slightly off balance.

“Too reckless,” Bacchus muttered under his breath, before stepping in and delivering a blow aimed at Sakura’s midsection.

Sakura barely managed to twist away, but the follow-up came immediately, forcing him to retreat a step as another strike skimmed past his shoulder and another forced him to raise his arms defensively. The rhythm of Bacchus’ attacks was relentless, each movement flowing into the next as if he had already mapped out Sakura’s responses in advance.

“He is getting slower,” Bacchus said flatly, adjusting his stance again as he circled slightly to Sakura’s left, cutting off his space.

“I am not slow,” Sakura snapped back, though his voice came out rougher than he intended as he forced himself forward again, throwing another punch that Bacchus blocked cleanly with his forearm before responding with a short strike to Sakura’s ribs. The impact made Sakura flinch, but he refused to step back this time, pushing through the pain and grabbing Bacchus’ arm in an attempt to interrupt his rhythm.

For a brief moment, it worked. Bacchus’ movement paused, just half a beat of hesitation, but it was enough for Sakura to drive a second strike into his guard, forcing him to take a step back. However, Rakta immediately capitalized on that opening, moving in from the side and striking Sakura’s leg hard enough to force his grip to loosen.

Sakura staggered, his breathing turning uneven as the fever and exhaustion finally began to catch up with him in full force, his vision flickering at the edges while the world around him seemed to tilt slightly out of alignment.

“Answer me,” Sakura said through clenched teeth, “where is Suo?”

Bacchus exhaled, clearly irritated. “I already told you,” he said coldly, stepping forward again, “he’s not here.”

“Only fools would believe that.”

He pushed forward again despite his body screaming at him to stop, throwing another desperate strike that Bacchus narrowly avoided, the air between them tightening as the fight became less about skill and more about endurance and the refusal to back down.

Sakura did not give himself time to recover or reassess, instead he immediately followed through with another attack, his fist cutting through the air in a straight line aimed at Bacchus’ centerline, forcing Bacchus to shift backward rather than counter. The movement was rough and unrefined compared to Bacchus’ controlled style, but it carried massive pressure behind it.

Bacchus clicked his tongue as he adjusted his footing, blocking the next strike with his forearm before trying to angle in a counter, but Sakura had already closed the distance again, throwing another punch and then another without giving him space to breathe or reset. Each hit was driven forward by frustration, fever and something greater that refused to let him stop even when his body was clearly starting to fail him. “Why won’t you just answer me!”

“Stay down,” Bacchus said forcefully as he seized one of Sakura’s punches and twisted his wrist, attempting to mess with the pattern of his attack.

“Not until I get answers,” Sakura shot back immediately, yanking his arm free and slamming forward again, his shoulder crashing into Bacchus’ defense as he forced him back another step.

The force of it finally shifted Bacchus’ expression from contained annoyance to genuine aggravation, and for the first time he struck back with intent rather than testing blows, landing a solid hit against Sakura’s side that should have forced him to stop. But Sakura only gritted his teeth and withstood it, his movements becoming even more fierce as he refused to let the pain slow him down.

Bacchus exhaled as he took another step back, realizing that Sakura was not going to back off no matter how many times he hit him. “This guy is insane,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting his stance again as if preparing to escalate properly.

That was when Rakta moved.

He stepped in smoothly at first, almost silently, cutting into Sakura’s blind spot from the side as Bacchus briefly created an opening. Sakura barely had time to turn before Rakta’s strike landed against his shoulder. The hit was not meant to overwhelm him on its own, but it was enough to give Bacchus space to recover.

But Sakura did not stop.

He staggered half a step, then immediately went back into motion, throwing a wide strike toward Bacchus again even as Rakta closed in. The desperation in his movements made them less predictable, more dangerous in a way that forced both boys to adjust quickly rather than control the pace. “And here I thought you were just going to stand behind and watch.”

“Tch,” Rakta clicked his tongue as he fully committed now, stepping in front of Bacchus without hesitation. “Back off. I’ll handle him.”

Bacchus did not argue, only shifting slightly to the side as he watched carefully, his expression still tense but now more observant than active.

Rakta met Sakura head-on.

Their clash was immediate, Rakta’s style far more direct and compact than Bacchus’ fluid strikes, meeting Sakura’s rushing attacks with tight blocks and sharp counters that aimed not to overpower but to tire him down piece by piece. Sakura threw punch after punch, but Rakta slipped between them, redirecting force, stepping inside his range and striking back in short measured bursts that forced Sakura to adjust constantly.

Sakura kept fighting. His chest risen uncontrollably, heat rising through his body in waves, his fever clearly worsening as his vision flickered slightly at the edges and his movements began to falter just enough to be noticeable.

“I said I am looking for Suo,” Sakura said through clenched teeth as he forced another strike through Rakta’s guard, only for Rakta to catch it and twist him slightly off balance.

Rakta stepped closer immediately, not giving Sakura even a second to recover, his expression darkening as he leaned down slightly until his voice fell into something dangerously low and cold. “And I said there is no Suo here,” he replied before driving another punch into Sakura’s ribs, the impact forcing the remaining air from his lungs. Then, quieter this time, Rakta whispered, “Even if there is, he does not want to see you.”

Sakura’s vision swam violently for a moment, it became difficult to separate the pain from the words being thrown at him. “How do you know that?”

Rakta’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he had finally found the opening he wanted. “Because you do not even know his real name.”

Sakura froze for the briefest second, and immediately, a punch landed against Sakura’s cheek, snapping his head to the side before the next impact forced him down entirely onto the ground. The rough surface scraped against his skin as Rakta climbed over him, pinning him down while delivering blow after blow without giving him the chance to retaliate.

Each punch landed alongside another cruel taunts, as if Rakta was trying to crush whatever fragile hope Sakura had been desperately holding onto since arriving in Kasai.

“Who the hell is Suo?”

Another punch landed across Sakura’s face, making his ears ring violently.

“You have the audacity to call yourself his friend when you do not even know him.”

The next hit drove into his stomach, making his already aching body curl instinctively beneath Rakta’s weight.

“Stop being a burden on him.”

Sakura’s hands twitched weakly at his sides, but the strength to properly fight back was fading faster than he could hold onto it.

“Can you not see it? He does not trust you.”

He felt suffocated.

The pain spreading through his body became distant compared to the overwhelming pressure in his chest, and suddenly all the unanswered questions he had carried here felt brutally loud inside his head.

Did Suo really never trust him?

Was everything between them nothing more than Sakura misunderstanding the kindness he had been shown?

Had he come all this way chasing someone who had already decided to leave him behind long ago?

His vision blurred as the taste of blood spread across his tongue, metallic and warm, while the sky above him seemed to spin slowly out of focus. The noise around him became muffled, the shouts and movement fading beneath the overwhelming exhaustion pulling at him from every direction. He no longer had the strength to throw another punch, nor the will to keep arguing against words that had already begun carving themselves into his chest.

The atmosphere around him felt strangely cold despite the heat of the day, the world above him washed in dim sunlight while voices echoed from somewhere far away, distant and hollow like they no longer belonged to him.

Then suddenly, through the haze swallowing his thoughts, a voice reverberated suddenly through the air, bringing everything to a halt.

“Stop!”

The shout echoed loudly across the area, carrying a panic and urgency Sakura recognized instantly, a voice he knew so well that even in his fading consciousness, his heart reacted before his mind could.

“SunFei!” both Bacchus and Rakta shouted almost immediately.

At the corner of Sakura’s blurry vision, he could see someone rushing toward him, red hair catching under the sunlight, an eyepatch dark against pale skin. Suo looked terrified, genuinely terrified, his expression twisted with worry in a way Sakura had never seen before.

Sakura wondered if his fever had finally become bad enough to make him hallucinate because there was no way Suo would look at him like that after abandoning him. There was no way Suo would sound so desperate while calling his name.

Even if it was only his imagination, it felt comforting.

It felt warm.

As darkness slowly pulled at the corners of his vision again, Sakura faintly felt hands supporting his head carefully, almost trembling against him, while distant voices shouted around him in panic. He could not understand any of the words anymore as the sounds mashed together into meaningless noise.

His thoughts drifted slowly, slipping apart one by one as exhaustion consumed him completely.

Why did he come here again?

Oh right. Suo.

But then another thought surfaced weakly through the darkness.

Who was Suo?

*

Sakura woke with a splitting headache that throbbed painfully behind his eyes, while the rest of his body burned as though he had been left under the sun for hours. Even breathing felt exhausting. His limbs were sluggish beneath the blanket, and the fever clouding his mind made it impossible for him to think clearly.

The ceiling above him was unfamiliar.

Slowly, Sakura blinked himself awake and looked around the room, realizing almost immediately that this was not a hospital. The bed beneath him was far too soft and comfortable to belong in one and the atmosphere lacked the cold sterility associated with clinics and medicine. Instead, the room felt quiet in a strangely personal way, carrying faint traces of warmth and someone actually living there.

A tired sigh escaped him as he closed his eyes briefly again. The entire day had drained him physically and emotionally until he no longer knew which pain hurt worse.

He coughed weakly into his hand before immediately regretting it as his throat burned painfully dry afterward. God, he was thirsty.

With visible effort, Sakura tried to push himself upright, intending to search for water somewhere nearby, but before he could fully sit up, the door quietly opened.

Suo stepped inside.

Or perhaps SunFei. Sakura no longer knew which name he was supposed to think of.

The sight of him standing there with a tray in his hands made something inside Sakura tighten painfully. On the tray rested a bowl of steaming congee, a cup of water and several packets of medicine neatly arranged beside it. The domestic normalcy of the scene felt oddly out of place after everything that had happened earlier.

“Don’t move,” Suo said softly as he walked toward the bed and placed the tray carefully onto the side table before sitting beside Sakura on the mattress. The bed was not particularly large, but Suo still left a small distance between them, as though uncertain whether he was allowed any closer. Then he reached for the cup and held it out gently. “Here.”

Sakura only stared at Suo’s hand for a moment before turning his gaze away, refusing to take it.

Suo looked at him quietly for a second before lifting the cup slightly higher into Sakura’s line of sight again with patient persistence. “I know you are thirsty,” he murmured.

Sakura remained stubbornly silent. Even now, despite the fever and weakness weighing down his body, some wounded part of him refused to make things easy.

Then suddenly, a violent coughing fit tore through him before he could maintain the act any longer. His shoulders shook harshly as the coughs forced themselves out one after another, painful enough to make his eyes sting.

Suo reacted immediately.

The cup was placed back onto the table almost carelessly before Suo moved closer and gently supported Sakura upright, one hand rubbing slow circles against his back while the other steadied him carefully. The contact was pleasant and comforting, yet it made Sakura's chest ache rather than soothe him.

Weakly, Sakura tried to push Suo’s arm away. “I’m okay,” he managed between coughs, but his cracked voice and trembling body betrayed the lie instantly.

Ever the stubborn one, Suo ignored the protest entirely and continued soothing him in silence until the coughing finally subsided.

By the time Sakura calmed down, he was left sitting against the headboard with uneven breaths while Suo remained beside him, close enough that Sakura could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

Suo picked up the cup again and offered it once more. “Drink this.”

This time, Sakura hesitated before finally nodding weakly.

Suo’s expression softened almost imperceptibly at the small act of compliance. His free hand gently cupped Sakura’s chin as he carefully tilted the cup toward his lips, guiding him slowly as if afraid Sakura might hurt himself even while drinking water. All the while, Suo watched him quietly with eyes filled with an emotion Sakura could not bring himself to look at directly for too long.

“Do you want more?” Suo asked after Sakura finished.

Sakura only shook his head faintly, still unable to properly meet Suo’s eyes.

Then Suo handed him the bowl of congee. However, merely looking at the food made Sakura’s stomach twist unpleasantly, leaving him nauseous enough that he felt like he would throw up if he forced himself to eat. He gently pushed the bowl back toward Suo. “Not hungry.”

Suo lowered his gaze briefly before speaking again, his voice softer now. “If you do not eat, then you will not have the energy to berate me.”

The words made Sakura’s fingers twitch instinctively.

For the first time since Suo entered the room, Sakura almost looked directly at him, but the moment their gazes nearly met, he stopped himself and lowered his eyes again. His chest tightened painfully as he focused instead on picking at the skin beneath his fingernails, a nervous habit he slipped into whenever emotions became too overwhelming to contain.

A quiet clink sounded through the room as Suo placed the bowl back onto the table.

Not long after, Sakura felt warm hands gently wrapping around his own.

“Do not do that,” Suo murmured while carefully stopping Sakura from picking at his skin any further. “It will scab.”

Sakura’s breathing faltered slightly as Suo slowly untangled their fingers and smoothed his thumbs gently across Sakura’s hands. His knuckles red as if he just finished fighting someone while Sakura laid asleep. Suo’s palms were rough and calloused, evidence of years spent fighting, even though the way he touched Sakura remained impossibly careful, like he was afraid of hurting him.

“Eat some, will you?” Suo asked quietly while absentmindedly playing with Sakura’s sweaty hands. “Then we can talk.”

Sakura shook his head again, though this time the refusal felt less certain.

Their hands stayed intertwined as Suo continued tracing illogical patterns against Sakura’s palms, his touch calm and firm in the midst of the room’s emotional maelstrom.

“Do you not want to ask me questions?” Suo asked softly after a long silence. His thumb drew gentle circles against Sakura’s trembling palms as he spoke. “Eat this, and I will answer them.”

Sakura kept his head lowered while Suo’s fingers continued tracing slow circles against his palms. He hated how familiar it felt. Hated how naturally Suo still held his hands like nothing had changed between them, like Sakura had not crossed cities searching for him only to end up beaten bloody while hearing that maybe Suo had never trusted him at all.

Yet, like a dog, he still could not bring himself to pull away.

His throat tightened slightly as exhaustion settled deeper into his bones and perhaps it was because of the fever obscuring his judgment or because Suo’s presence had always weakened his resolve, but eventually Sakura gave a timid nod.

Suo seemed momentarily surprised by the small act of surrender, though the expression vanished almost immediately beneath his usual composure. Without a word, he released Sakura’s hands and reached for the bowl of congee resting on the side table.

Steam still rose faintly from it as Suo picked up the spoon and stirred the porridge carefully, likely trying to cool it down before offering it to him. A simple gesture like this made Sakura’s chest throb strangely because Suo looked far too tender for someone who had disappeared from his life without explanation.

“Open your mouth,” Suo said quietly after a moment.

Sakura frowned immediately despite his weakened state. “I can eat by myself.” His voice came out rough and slightly hoarse, but the stubbornness behind it remained intact.

For the first time that night, something faintly amused flickered through Suo’s tired expression. “Good. That means your energy is coming back.”

Sakura clicked his tongue softly under his breath before snatching the bowl from Suo’s hands with more irritation than strength. The movement made his headache pulse again, and he instantly regretted it, though he refused to show it on his face.

Suo did not comment. He simply sat beside him quietly, watching.

Sakura slowly scooped a spoonful of congee into his mouth. It tasted plain and warm, almost bland, but the heat spreading down his throat eased some of the painful dryness that had been bothering him earlier. His stomach still protested weakly, but not enough to stop him from taking another bite.

Suo remained silent throughout it all, his gaze resting on Sakura with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. There was no teasing smile on his face now, no playful remarks or lighthearted comments to ease the atmosphere. Instead, he simply watched quietly as if reassuring himself that Sakura was really eating, really here, really safe in front of him.

Under that gaze, Sakura found it harder and harder to focus on the food.

Every time he lifted the spoon, he could feel Suo’s eyes following the movement carefully, and the realization stirred something restless inside him. Part of him wanted to ask why Suo was looking at him like that after disappearing without a word, while another part feared hearing the answer if he actually asked.

So instead, Sakura continued eating in silence.

The soft clink of the spoon against the bowl became the only sound in the room for a while, accompanied occasionally by Sakura’s quiet coughing or Suo shifting slightly beside him. Outside, the evening air carried faint distant noises from the streets of Kasai, but inside the bedroom everything felt weirdly serene, entrapped within the warmth of dim lighting and lingering feelings neither of them knew how to convey it aloud.

Suo cleaned the tray in silence before setting everything aside neatly. Afterward, he returned to the bed and settled himself near Sakura’s legs, sitting comfortably against the mattress. “Ask away.”

For the first time since waking up, Sakura finally looked directly into Suo’s eyes.

The sight that greeted him caught him off guard.

Suo looked exhausted. His usually neat appearance had fallen apart slightly, with loose strands of red hair framing his face carelessly while faint shadows rested beneath his visible eye. Even the serene smile he wore was paler than normal, stretched over tiredness and concern that had not yet subsided. For once, Suo did not appear invincible or composed. He merely appeared worn out.

Sakura stared at him quietly before finally speaking, his throat still rough from fever and coughing. “Who are you?”

Suo blinked once before the familiar smile appeared on his lips again, though this time it carried a hint of hesitation beneath it. “Starting strong, aren’t you?” he said lightly, trying to joke despite the seriousness in the room. “That is a difficult question.”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile curving into something more mischievous. Under normal circumstances, Sakura would have found it comforting, maybe even beautiful because Suo always smiled like that to comfort people around him. But now that same expression made Sakura felt like shit because he no longer knew which parts belonged to the person he knew and which belonged to the stranger sitting before him.

“At Furin, I am Suo,” he said after a brief pause. Then his gaze lowered slightly, “In Bankoku-gai, I am SunFei.”

Sakura looked at him with widened eyes, his gaze desperately searching for reassurance, for anything capable of calming the storm raging violently inside his chest as he tried to determine if Suo was truly being honest with him this time. Doubt and hope twisted painfully together within him until he could no longer tell one from the other. Slowly, he drew his knees closer against his chest and lowered his head onto them, partially concealing his face as though curling into himself might offer even the smallest sense of protection from the feelings threatening to spill out of him.

After a long silence, he lifted his head just enough to speak again, his voice small. “Then… who are you now?”

The rest remained unsaid, but they both understood it.

Who are you to me right now?

Who is the person sitting in front of me?

Silence stretched between them afterward, Sakura could hear faraway sounds drifting through the balcony window, as well as the irregular cadence of his own breathing. The moonlight seeping into the room washed everything in delicate silver, softening the edges of the furniture and casting shadows across Suo’s face, making him appear oddly distant despite sitting only a short distance away.

Then Suo smiled again, though this one lacked the teasing confidence he usually carried so naturally. Slowly, he lifted his hand toward Sakura as if wanting to touch him, perhaps to brush his hair back or hold his face gently, but midway through the motion he stopped himself. His fingers curled slightly before he withdrew his hand back to his side.

“Here, in this room,” Suo said quietly, “I can be anything you want me to be.”

The room fell silent again for a brief moment. Moonlight illuminated Suo’s face as his expression softened further, allowing glimpses of vulnerability to emerge through the carefully crafted masks he always wore.

“So,” Suo whispered gently, “who do you want me to be, Sakura?”

Immediately, Sakura buried his face against his knees again while his fingers weakly tightened around the blanket beneath him, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, loud enough that he wondered if Suo could hear it too. The answer inside him pressed restlessly against his chest, desperate to spill free despite the fear tangled around it.

At first, only a faint murmur came out, too quiet for Suo to understand, but Suo did not rush him. He simply waited patiently beside him, giving Sakura the space to gather the courage to say it properly.

Not long after, Sakura finally whispered, “My friend.”

His voice was childishly vulnerable as he kept his face hidden between his knees.

He could not bring himself to look at Suo afterward because he was terrified of what expression he might find there. What if Suo looked uncomfortable? Worse, what if he was disgusted by the idea of it?

What Sakura did not see was the way Suo’s breath choked in his throat the moment those words reached him.

For a brief moment, every meticulously constructed wall around Suo crumbled completely. The smile that had persisted on his face faded away, replaced by an expression of such profound sorrow that he scarcely resembled himself. His visible eye quiver slightly, and unshed tears pooled there despite his best efforts to blink them away.

He looked weary. Pathetic, even.

But Suo forced himself to recover within seconds, smoothing his expression back into something gentler and calmer because the last thing he wanted was for Sakura to see him falling apart after already hurting him this badly.

“But I am your friend.”

Still hiding, Sakura mumbled, “Mhm,” then he looked up and met Suo’s eyes, which made the other shook slightly, “If that’s the case, why did I know nothing about you?”

As Suo stayed silent, Sakura continued his rambling, his finger trembled faintly, “Do you not trust your friends at Furin? Me?”

Sakura’s dejected expression tugged hard at Suo’s heart, leaving his lips quivering with all he truly wanted to say. He wanted to reassure Sakura that he had reasons, to explain everything fully so that he could stay by his side indefinitely.  

But here in Bankoku-gai, he had responsibilities that could not be ignored, tasks passed down through generations as part of being a Red Chanpuru officer.

*

Before, when he stood on the rooftop overlooking his beautiful Kasai town, he believed without a doubt that it was the most enchanting place he had ever set foot in. He thanked his ancestors for settling there and later grew up with the honor of being chosen as one of the three Red Chanpuru officers tasked with protecting the town. The responsibilities never felt like a burden then; instead, he carried them with pride.

But that was before he came to Makochi, before his mission to infiltrate the town and study its people and before Sakura entered his life. At first, he felt nothing, but as time passed and he spent more days among the people there, especially with Sakura, his resolve began to waver. He convinced himself that he could balance both towns, spending his days in Makochi and his nights in Kasai, as if distance and exhaustion did not matter.

Soon, however, he found himself making excuses to stay in Makochi for the night, until what had once been nightly returns to Kasai became only three or four visits a week. He reassured himself that Bacchus and Rakta were enough to protect the town and that he could step in only when necessary. And, perhaps more dangerously, he began telling himself that Makochi needed him more in that moment.

He never intended to grow close to his classmates, carefully maintaining boundaries with everyone while casually participating in jokes and conversations without ever allowing himself to become attached. Yet one day, a boy with half-black, half-white hair arrived at their classroom. Nirei had described him the day prior, mentioning an outsider around their age who had helped him when he was cornered by street thugs.

Nirei’s description had been accurate, but it had failed to capture something essential, something that could not be put into words easily because no language could’ve had the perfect terms that could express it. Sakura exuded a luminous vigor and a natural presence that drew attention without any effort.

Maybe it was that. Maybe it was simply because of the boy but Suo no longer knew where logic ended and instinct began.

Without thinking, he moved and spoke before he could even process it, introducing himself far earlier than he intended, curiosity pulling him forward before caution could stop him.

After that, he found himself following Sakura, often with Nirei by his side. The more he got to know Sakura, the more his resolve continued to weaken. When Sakura fought, his heterochromia became even more astonishing, and the scorching golden eye stole Suo’s breath away every time their gazes met. At times, he could even feel the eye beneath his eyepatch throbbing as it gazed upon the brilliant gold.

He was, wholly and unequivocally, captivated.

So he fought by Sakura’s side. He grew closer to his classmates, breaking every boundary and rule he had once set for himself, simply because he could not help it. Before long, he found himself fighting for Bofurin as well, even making excuses that Nirei needed training just so he could justify staying near Sakura a little longer.

Sakura was his moon, poised in a vast night sky, radiant and impossible to ignore, while Suo could only perceive himself as something tiny, like pebbles that survived in its light at night only because he was fortunate enough to exist within its vicinity.

When he returned to Kasai during one of his weekly visits, he caught himself doing something he never thought possible. He found himself questioning whether he could truly remain a Red Chanpuru officer at all because somewhere along the way, he had become greedy enough to want to stay beside Sakura forever.

But life had a way of shattering dreams, of crushing them under the guise of fate to shove you back into your place. As of late, Bacchus and Rakta had been complaining about the rise of delinquents entering Kasai, though Suo had dismissed their concerns, insisting that they would disappear sooner or later.

He was wrong.

One day during summer break, groups of five attacked different parts of Kasai. Flower shops were vandalized, a dumpling stall was destroyed, and even the children’s playground was defaced with graffiti as if they were marking territory. Suo, of course, was not there when it happened.

The moment he heard the news, he returned to his town as soon as he can, and only then did the immense weight of his responsibilities in Kasai come crashing back onto him, shattering the fragile dream he had allowed himself to build. Guilt settled heavily in his chest as he looked over the damaged town, realizing that if he had not dismissed the early signs, if he had taken them seriously, perhaps people would not now be struggling to repair what had been destroyed.

A wave of shame washed over him. How could he have ever dreamed of leaving everything here behind just to stay by Sakura’s side? How could he have played house at Bofurin while his own people in Kasai suffered as a consequence of his negligence?

Although, despite everything, he did not regret it. He did not regret the time he had spent beside Sakura, not even for a moment.

Just like that, he made up his mind. He would disappear from Makochi and return to where he truly belonged, to the place that had raised him.

He had resolved to leave once the new semester began, intending to meet Sakura one last time before disappearing for good. But when Sakura opened up to everyone on the rooftop about his upbringing, about being abandoned by everyone ever since his childhood, about being swallowed by darkness, about not belonging anywhere, and about hope that he might belong in Bofurin, it struck Suo so deeply that it felt almost physical, as though his heart itself had been violently squeezed. Because soon, Suo might become one of the very people who disappeared from Sakura’s life.

Thus he found himself making excuses again whenever Bacchus asked when he would return to Kasai. Ever since the rooftop incident, everyone seemed to have grown closer to Sakura, with even pranks becoming part of their everyday interactions, but one question lingered in Suo’s mind: did Sakura feel the same way? It was a shame he could not stay long enough to find out.

A month passed, and Bacchus and Rakta’s calls grew more frequent with each passing day. Suo could no longer postpone his responsibilities in Kasai, and he finally made up his mind to return after the ordeal with Momijikawa was resolved.

When the day of Suo’s leaving finally arrived, he patrolled the town with Nirei and like usual they would hang out at Café Pothos. Suo took a seat in front of Sakura.

From there, he could look at him properly without turning away or pretending his attention was elsewhere, so he did exactly that, allowing his gaze to rest on Sakura for longer than was appropriate and longer than he normally permitted himself.

He committed every detail to memory, the way Sakura spoke, the way he moved his hands when he was annoyed or excited, and the carefree expressions that surfaced when he shared jokes with other classmates.

He did not interrupt much during the conversation. He simply listened, answered when necessary, and watched when he did not speak, allowing himself the rare indulgence of being still while Sakura remained within reach. Who knew how long it would be before he could hear Sakura laugh like this again?

When it finally became time to part ways, Suo found himself unusually reluctant to stand. It was fortunate, or perhaps merciful, that his route home lay in the opposite direction from Sakura’s because he knew that if he had been given even a few more minutes with Sakura, he would have found another excuse to delay his departure.

After his conversation with Nirei, Bacchus came to pick him up. As if taunting him, the moon was full and hung low in the sky, bathing everything in pale light. It was beautiful and it reminded him of Sakura.

Throughout the entire journey back to Kasai, he never once took his eyes off the moon.

As expected, it did not take long before his phone began to flood with messages and missed calls from his classmates, each notification stacking upon the next. Everyone had reached out to check on him, their concern sincere because Bofurin had always been full of people who cared without hesitation, and Suo, in contrast, felt like the only one capable of being cruel enough to step away and cut everything.

He stared on Sakura’s name for a moment longer than the rest. There were multiple missed calls, and for a brief instant he wondered if it was simply worry, the same kind Suo had once shown when Sakura could not be reached during the days he was ill.

His fingers hovered hesitantly over the screen, before he withdrew and turned off the device completely. He told himself he needed to be resilient since Kasai was now his duty, and anything related to Makochi would just distort that line further.

He had to let go of them. That was the punishment unleashed upon him for betraying those who had trusted him.

Kasai welcomed him back as if nothing had changed. Bacchus and Ratka moved beside him as they always had, and patrols resumed their usual schedule. People greeted him along the streets with familiarity and relief, children waving cheerfully when they passed, their voices bright in a way that should have eased him into place. Suo responded with his usual composed and polite smile, fulfilling the role expected of him without fault.

On the surface, everything was as it should be.

But, behind the surface, something was silently bugging him.

In moments between conversations and patrol routes, his thoughts drifted without permission, slipping back toward Makochi in ways he could not control. There were times when a familiar shade of gold would resurface in his mind without warning, and he would find himself wondering what Sakura was doing at that very moment. Whether he had eaten properly, whether he had gotten into another unnecessary fight, whether someone had challenged him just to test him.

Kasai, despite its familiarity, began to transform in subtle ways. He noticed echoes of Sakura in passing faces and tiny glimpses of movement across packed streets, such as a tone in someone’s voice, or a burst of energy that seemed nearly identical before it passed. Every time it happened, his hand craved to respond Sakura’s calls.

When the city fell silent at night, he would frequently stand on his balcony and look up at the sky, only to realize that he had been staring at the moon the entire time.

Ah, he missed Sakura.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth that he had disappeared without a single explanation, severing himself from Bofurin abruptly that it almost felt cowardly in retrospect. Even now, the guilt persisted within him because, despite everything, they had cared enough to look for him.

That was why he returned to Makochi, even if only briefly, and why he chose to answer Nirei’s calls instead of Sakura’s. He told himself it was necessary, that he needed to end things properly before the others continued wasting their time searching for someone who no longer belonged there.

Before he finally contacted Nirei, his feet carried him somewhere else first.

Without fully realizing it, he found himself standing in front of Sakura’s apartment building late in the evening, the familiar rundown corridor illuminated dimly by flickering lights overhead. The place looked exactly the same as before, worn down by time, but now it felt like he no longer had the right to stand there.

Suo stayed standing for a long time outside Sakura’s door.

The hallway was silent enough that he could hear the faint buzz of electricity from the old lamp above him, along with the occasional rustling wind drifting through the stairwell, but none of it reached him properly. His attention remained fixed entirely on the closed door in front of him, the same door he had once knocked on without hesitation, the same place he used to visit naturally that it never crossed his mind that one day he would feel out of place here.

His hand twitched faintly at his side.

For one wild moment, he considered what would happen if he knocked. If Sakura was inside at all. Whether he would open the door with annoyance on his face before realizing who was there. Suo could almost see it: confusion moving to rage, hurt concealed under it, and, perhaps, relief.

That possibility alone nearly shattered the resolve he spent weeks forcing into place.

Because if Sakura opened that door and looked at him the way he used to, Suo was no longer certain he would be able to leave again.

Suo slowly raised his hand at one point, fingers hovering inches away from the wood before stopping himself halfway.

Then, he lowered it again.

He had no right to disturb Sakura now after disappearing without explanation. No right to appear in front of him only to wound him further before leaving once more. If he truly intended to cut ties cleanly, then standing there was already selfish enough.

Still, he could not immediately force himself to walk away.

So he lingered there in silence, staring at the closed door like someone mourning something he had not entirely lost, while guilt and yearning twisted together intricately inside his chest that he could barely separate one from the other anymore.

Only after several long minutes did Suo finally turn around and leave the corridor behind.

And shortly after that, he returned Nirei’s call instead of Sakura’s.

The other reason was because he could not bring himself to face Sakura directly.

Nirei, despite appearing delicate and shy, had a subtle resilience that allowed him to withstand cruel remarks without fully breaking down. Sakura was different. Despite his roughness and temper, he was a deeply fragile person who carried abandonment like an old scar that never properly healed. Suo understood with agonizing surety that if he looked Sakura in the eyes and hurled those vicious words on him, the damage would last long even after the exchange was over.

When Nirei brought Sakura up during their conversation, asking what about Sakura and questioning why Suo refused to speak to him personally, the words struck harder than Suo expected. It was almost infuriating hearing someone ask such a thing, as though Suo hadn’t spent these past weeks thinking of him.

Did Nirei truly believe Sakura had not occupied his mind every single day since he left?

Suo had been thinking about him so much that it became intolerable at times. Before coming to Makochi, he had spent night after night practicing the expression he would wear when Sakura’s name inevitably came up in conversation, standing alone in front of a mirror and forcing himself to smooth every reaction from his face until nothing was evident. He tried controlling his voice, his glance, and even the smallest twitch of his lips since he knew that one break in his demeanor would be enough for someone to discover the truth.

By the time Nirei finally mentioned Sakura, Suo was prepared.

Or at least, he appeared to be.

His expression remained unchanged just as he practiced, calm and detached that it almost disgusted him, but behind the eyepatch, the concealed eye twitched faintly against his will, the only betrayal his body allowed itself. It was fortunate Nirei could not see it.

He forced himself to become as ruthless as possible during that conversation, carefully choosing words blunt enough to wound because he needed Nirei to carry those words back to Bofurin. He needed Sakura to hear them. He needed Sakura to grow angry enough to stop searching and hurt enough to eventually let go.

Because if Sakura continued reaching for him despite everything, Suo feared his own resolve would eventually crumble beyond repair.

Kasai needed him. That truth had not changed no matter how much he wished otherwise. The city had already suffered once because he allowed himself to become distracted because he selfishly tried to hold onto both worlds at once instead of fully dedicating himself to the responsibilities entrusted to him.

He could not afford to fail them again.

*

Suo only nodded quietly without offering any explanation at all. But for someone as perceptive as Sakura, of course he would catch onto the cracks in his composure.

“You liar.”

Sakura looked straight at him then, baring his teeth in frustration even as his eyes shimmered beneath the moonlight spilling through the window. The sight tightened something painfully deep inside Suo’s chest, and for one fragile instant, he nearly surrendered to the desperate impulse urging him to reach forward, cradle Sakura’s cheek within his palm, and wipe away the hurt threatening to settle permanently on his face.

But his hand never moved

“Because if you did, you wouldn’t disappear on us,” Sakura continued, his voice trembling now despite the effort he made to keep it laced with fury. His head felt heavier by the second, the fever threatening to return in full force, but he forced himself to endure it. He was going to get answers from Suo tonight, even if it meant humiliating himself in the process.

Suo clenched his jaw until pain spread through it. He forced his body to remain frozen while shaping his expression into something colder, more detached. He had already chosen this path long ago. He needed to push Sakura away because it was the right thing to do, and it did not matter if it hurt the person he cherished most. The needs of the community outweighed his own selfish desire.

“I see,” Suo said at last. “You’re right. I lied.”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed slightly as he rested his head against both knees, trying to get a better look at Suo through the pounding ache clouding his mind. “You don’t trust me?”

“That’s not it,” Suo replied before letting out a quiet breath, his tone harsh enough to leave no room for doubt and void of any warmth. “You’re right. I’m not your friend.”

The words crashed into Sakura like a boulder shattering glass. The instant he heard them, his throat tightened uncomfortably. Back when he had curled beneath his blanket in his apartment, he had imagined countless answers Suo might give him, replaying every possibility over and over until exhaustion overtook him, but never once had he considered this. He had never imagined Suo would admit it so openly.

Sakura searched desperately for some indication that Suo was lying, but the boy sitting in front of him felt like a complete stranger. Had Suo always felt this way? Then maybe it was true after all. Maybe Suo had never been his friend to begin with.

Sakura tried to brush aside the pulsing ache in his skull as the headache returned in relentless waves. Keeping his head lowered against his knees, he ignored the throbbing in his chest and forced himself to speak.

“Did everything we went through mean nothing to you?”

Sakura gritted his teeth, and for the briefest moment, he thought he saw Suo’s eyes twitch the instant the question reached him. Sakura wondered if he had imagined it totally, or if the fever that was coursing through him had begun to distort his perceptions, for Suo had already reverted to wearing the same blank expression, the very next second.

“Should it mean something to me?” Suo asked. He looked directly at Sakura, but it felt like his gaze was aimed somewhere far beyond him instead. “It was nothing more than petty fights and pointless brawls. Why would any of it matter to me?”

The moment those words left his mouth, Suo felt as though his heart might tear itself apart inside his chest because Sakura’s expression looked utterly devastated that he knew it would haunt him for the rest of his life. Sakura’s mouth twisted into a small, pained grimace as his cheek pressed harder against his knees, while his golden eyes peering directly into Suo’s. They had once been so vibrant that Suo could barely hold their gaze for long without feeling himself drawn in, but now they appeared faint beneath the pale silver moonlight, a sight Suo knew would keep him awake through countless nights.

Sakura’s fingers curled tightly at his side, nails pressing into his skin just enough to keep himself grounded. More than anything, he wanted to return to his apartment, to crawl beneath the comfort of his blanket and disappear into the only sanctuary he had ever known. If he buried himself there right away, Suo’s words may stop piercing him. They undoubtedly still would, but Sakura hoped that encased in darkness and solitude, the misery would fade gradually until he could not hear those statements reverberating inside his skull.

But he had already come this far only to leave with unanswered questions, and perhaps part of Sakura was still in denial because Suo was not convincing at all. Everything about him felt forced, as if he had intentionally constructed a wall in front of himself and was desperately trying to hide behind it; nonetheless, the words struck deeply enough to leave Sakura breathless.

He exhaled slowly, forcing air into lungs that suddenly felt restrained.

“What are you saying?” Sakura asked. “Did you really mean that?”

“Yeah,” Suo answered instead, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough for the metallic taste of blood to spread across his tongue. He forced himself to sound even harsher for Sakura’s sake because this was the only way. That thought repeated endlessly inside his mind like a punishment he could never escape. People needed him here.

Then the wind swept through the room, and for a while the only sounds left were the faint clinking of Suo’s earrings and the uneven rhythm of both boys’ breathing.

Sakura tightened his fist against his side. There were thousands of things he wanted to ask, questions clawing violently at the back of his throat. If none of it mattered, then why did you stay beside me all this time? Why did you become someone so important in my life only to leave me behind all the same? But before he could properly think through any of them, his mouth moved on its own.

“Then why did you push me to become grade captain?”

Sakura raised his gaze to Suo, but it still felt as if Suo had never looked at him really. Yes, his gaze was focused at Sakura, but his focus seemed to be fixed somewhere far beyond him, as if Sakura had already gotten distant. And no matter how hard Sakura tried, he could not figure out what was going through Suo’s head.

“How could I not?” Suo murmured. “I knew you were lonely. Wouldn’t it be better if you had people around you?”

Sakura laughed weakly at that, though there was no amusement in the sound at all.

“Wow,” Sakura said softly, lips trembling despite his attempt to steady them. “How low did you think of me?” His throat tightened before he forced himself to continue. “You must’ve felt disgusted every time you had to force yourself to stay beside me, huh?”

“Not really,” Suo replied quietly. “It’s just that I never thought of you strongly enough to feel anything at all.”

Sakura trembled reflexively as those words reached him. His entire body shook like if acid had been poured straight over his flesh, scorching away every vulnerable part of him piece by piece. He had never imagined Suo could become this cruel, never once believed the gentle boy who stayed beside him through everything could look at him so coldly.

But then again, did he ever truly know Suo at all?

“Don’t say anything you don’t truly mean,” Sakura said quietly.

“Who said I don’t mean it?”

“Then say it again,” Sakura replied, lifting his gaze toward him despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on his body. “But look at me this time.”

Sakura watched carefully for Suo’s reaction, and just as he had expected, the other boy could not do it. Sakura let out a slow breath as he lowered his eyes. It took nearly everything left inside him to reach out toward Suo’s hand, fingers trembling faintly from fever, exhaustion, and fear all tangled together. The instant their skin touched, a rush of coldness swept through Sakura, washing away the feverish warmth burning beneath his flesh. He took it as a good sign when Suo did not pull away.

“See?” Sakura murmured softly. “I don’t know why you’re pretending to be cruel to me.”

For a long while, neither of them spoke. Then Suo finally exhaled, and when he answered, his tone had softened without him even realizing it. Sakura truly knew how to break through him. “I can’t follow you back to Furin.”

“Why?”

“Stop being selfish, Sakura,” Suo’s thumb brushed gently against his hand. “If I go with you, then what happens to my people here? What about my friends? Don’t you understand? This town matters to me just as much as Makochi matters to you.”

Selfish? How dare Suo call him that.

Who was the one who had abandoned everything first? Who was the one standing in front of him now, throwing cruel words around like they were nothing?

Despite his anger, Sakura still understood where Suo was coming from. The most infuriating part of all was that if their situations had been reversed, even after everything Suo had done to him tonight, Sakura knew he would have chosen Suo again and again without hesitation.

Like some pathetic dog returning no matter how many times it was kicked away.

“You’re staying here?” Sakura asked at last.

“I’ve known them longer,” Suo replied slowly, lowering his head to avoid Sakura’s sight, and almost reflexively, he tightened his grip on Sakura’s hand, as if this small act alone could somehow provide comfort for both of them.

“Hey,” Sakura whispered after a long silence. “What am I to you?”

Sakura wanted to grab Suo by the shoulder and shake him until the truth spilled out, wanted to ask why Suo would not choose him, whether he had already grown tired of him, what part of him had driven Suo away, whether it was his disgusting upbringing that had made Suo change his mind, or why Suo no longer looked at him the same way.

The air between them turned frigid.

Suo remained frozen with his head lowered, fingers still wrapped around Sakura’s hand. Then, finally, for the first time that night, he lifted his eyes and truly looked at Sakura.

He wore his usual smile when he answered.

“Nothing.”

Sitting there in front of him, Suo stared directly into Sakura’s eyes with unwavering calmness, and the sight made Sakura’s heart wrench so violently inside his chest that his ears began ringing. In that instant, he realized how much he loathed that smile. However, the worst thing was not the expression itself. The ugliest part was that, as Sakura peered hard through Suo’s gaze, he could not find even the smallest hint of lies hiding within.

Ah, Suo had really abandoned him this time.

Being abandoned repeatedly meant that you ultimately recognized the shape of it before it arrived. You discovered how it snuck in between your ribs before you could prepare for it. You eventually stopped waiting for its pressing weight and began preparing for the aftermath, for the darkness to devour you whole, for the void inside to grow so large that it threatened to consume everything.

And no matter how many times it happened, it still hurt like hell.

Sakura pulled his hand away abruptly, as if the contact itself had begun to burn, and turned without hesitation. He hid himself behind the blanket, seeking solace in the scant shelter of cloth and darkness. With his back turned to Suo, he lay still, listening to nothing and everything at once, while the ache in his chest spread quietly through him like ink in water as it seeped into every corner of his being.

*

Suo remained seated, his gaze riveted on Sakura’ turned figure, he had no idea how much time had gone. It stretched and blurred, leaving just the weight of solitude pressing against him from all sides.

Everything weighed him down. Did he make the right choice?

Of course, Sakura meant everything to him.

There had never been a version of reality in which he did not.

For Suo, every single moment he had spent beside Sakura had felt like a blessing gifted by the universe itself, almost like it had finally decided to apologies to him for the miserable childhood it had forced him to endure. Every laugh they shared, every meaningless banter, every second spent standing shoulder to shoulder beside Sakura had become something precious enough for Suo to carry for the rest of his life.

However, Suo had allowed himself to be deluded by those ephemeral moments of enjoyment, forgetting that everything had a price. This was the price he paid for his folly. He had to harm Sakura with his own hands, even if every word felt like it was ripping chunks out of him. Even if he had to spend a thousand years atoning for the sin of hurting Sakura, he would accept it willingly for the warmth of simply being alongside him was already enough to nourish and soothe him for the thousand years to come.

His hand reacted before mind could stop it, seeking for Sakura’s back as if compelled by something primal and far too human. However, halfway through, he paused, fingers shaking slightly in midair before receding as if burnt. He could not afford to hurt him more.

Suo stayed silent, watching the slow pattern of Sakura's breathing settle into a more consistent rhythm, the uneven strain in his shoulders gradually dissolving as sleep took him without permission. It made both his eyes twitched because even after everything, Sakura could still fall sleep peacefully here, with Suo by his side. It filled him with unspoken pride, but it also caused his heart to swell.

Without fully understanding why, he leaned forward.

The kiss was light enough to be interpreted for reluctance, placed at Sakura's crown as if offering a silent apology that lacked the strength of words to carry it. It lasted only a moment before he retreated, like even that simple act required too much courage.

Suo was cruel, yes, but far more than that, he was a coward.

He sat down quietly and rested his head at the bedside. In that silence, he allowed himself one selfish prayer, hoping that Sakura would still be there when he woke up, just so Suo could spend a little more time staring at him in the soft light of morning.

But perhaps his karma had already begun its work that day because when dawn arrived, the bed was empty, and the warmth that once lingered had long since faded into cold.