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Ever since he was young, Sakura has seen odd things.
Especially during spring and autumn, where the cherry blossoms and cosmos were blooming. In the other two seasons, he tended to see things less, but he could still feel them, and their presence made him sick.
“Of course I can’t sleep! My roommate snores too loudly!”
“Huh? Haruka-kun, you’re in a room by yourself…”
No one understood him. The eyes in the ceilings stared at him. The critters in the cracks laughed at him. The reflection of a beast that’s just waiting for him outside promises hurt.
“You can’t stay inside forever, Haruka-kun. Don’t be so lazy.”
“Shut up! Go away!” he throws pillows at them, because why, why would they open the door? Are they stupid? Why would you open the windows, the demons would get in!
“Oh my goodness! Haruka-kun, why would you do that?!”
Even when Sakura cradled his bleeding eye and screamed, because the spirits jabbed their little limbs in it— the teacher would simply scold him, and look at him with disgust.
Why would you do that to yourself, Haruka-kun?
“What do you want from me,” one of his orphanage caretakers once begged, when she was being charged with child abuse and deemed unfit for the state to work in childcare ever again, “why are you doing this to me? What have I done to deserve this? I treated you well. I went against the matron to feed you, and this is how you repay me?”
Haruka’s eye healed perfectly every time. So perfectly, they decided that he was faking it, injury and blood and pain and all. It was the most convenient explanation for everyone.
It still hurt the same, but by the next day, the wound would be gone.
He would never be rid of this accursed golden eye. Because you’re a monster , it’s like everyone knows the answer to all his mysteries except him. He was always the one at fault, after all, and there was just no point in expending any more energy trying to defend himself against people who have no intention to be on his side.
“Look at him. Pretending again.”
“What’s wrong with him? Is it for attention? He’s crazy.”
“Something’s wrong with his head… it’s like he’s possessed.”
There were a few times however, when someone understood him.
Honestly, he’s still not sure if that experience was real.
It first happened in elementary.
He had been hiding in a shrine, because it was quiet, no one bothered him— neither human nor spirit— and he could stay there, inexistent, for as long as it took the world to remember him again.
Then someone came running through the grass, leaves rustling and breath shuddering with each step— behind him, violent winds sliced the branches, and the roar of a beast bellowed overhead.
Sakura moved just as the figure came bursting through the woods.
His feet soared past the boy, and right into the face of the kamaitachi that lunged at them. He sends the creature flying with a pained cry, and scoffs as it scurries away frantically at the sight.
“Eeekk!! It’s the golden-blood!” and it’s gone.
Pathetic. Annoying.
“If you’re gonna chase people around, learn how to take more than one damn kick, you fucking coward!” Sakura yells into the forest, knowing it could still hear him even so far away.
The boy he’d— saved — had fallen to the ground, looking back up at him with awe in his odd, golden-brown eyes.
Sakura falters for a second. Kamaitachi, and other animal-type youkai like those, can be seen by humans as some kind of weasel. So, which one did this kid see? And how weird did Sakura make himself out to be?
Instead, the kid expels all of Sakura’s doubts for him.
“C-Can you see them too?”
Well. Sakura was never one to handle emotions well. So, he shouted.
“The HELL are you doing sitting there and getting chased by a freaken’ WEASEL?! PUNCH IT or something, lanky!”
The boy shrieks like a terrified animal.
“B-but,” he clutches his bag as a defense mechanism, and Sakura abruptly realizes he just shouted for a normal kid to fight back against Rodent-Scissorhands, “the blades hurt my knuckles…”
Nevermind.
The kid actually tried punching the thing. And has scars on his fingers to prove it. He is absolutely not normal. Sakura’s so baffled he’s yelling back again.
“What the- how the— Kick it then!”
“But these are my last good pair of shoes…” he sulks. “I tried defending with my bag, but getting it replaced is more expensive!”
But Sakura can’t help it. That was so frustratingly relatable, and this situation is bizarre . When else will he ever be yelling at someone about being chased by a sickle-armed weasel? And he’s getting arguments back, too!
Sakura bursts out laughing in exasperation.
It’s a surprised moment later that the boy laughs, too.
“I’m Natsume. Natsume Takashi.”
“...Sakura Haruka.”
“Is that your real name? It’s really pretty,” His surprise is genuine and not at all mocking. Natsume then stares really hard when Sakura’s face turns bright red.
“W-whw- WHAT, what the hell are you talking about?!” Sakura pushes him away, “you picking a fight?!”
“Ah, but, you’re Haru (Spring), and I’m Natsu (Summer) , huh?”
Sakura huffs at that. “It’s a different kanji,” he trails down the strokes in the soil with a branch. Seeing that, Natsume joined in, writing his name as well.
“You only have two characters?”
“You got a problem with that?!”
“N-no!”
He liked his name the way it’s written, because it was so short compared to everyone else’s. It wasn’t very simple kanji, but it was easy to remember just two words.
(It was easy to remember, because no one else would do it for him.)
(But as they read out and wrote each others’ names into the dirt, Sakura remembered every stroke of the name Natsume Takashi , and committed it to memory. Because he felt like he should.)
People had long names because someone put a lot of thought into the words that made them up. Like Takashi , with the characters for valuable , and ambition . Natsume Takashi was someone that was once held precious, because the world had so much hope in store for him.
(Too bad they both ended up like this. Pathetic, ostracised monsters.)
But it’s odd to him how Natsume continues to talk to him, endearingly and slowly. He never takes offense when Sakura yells at him for one random reason or the next. He speaks on, patiently, and in return, Sakura also listens to him.
They talked about anything and nothing at all.
“I’ve never met anyone that could also see them before,” Natsume admits. “There was one, but she was a youkai that was tricking me.”
Sakura scoffs. “Don’t go talking to them.”
Natsume chuckles, a little miserably, “I know, but sometimes they pretend to be human, and it’s hard to tell them apart.”
Sakura never really has that problem. They’re all hostile to him, apparently unlike with Natsume. They never try to cosy up to him— they see him as a beast, and beasts never try to come to an understanding before they fight.
“You’re so wimpy and weak. No wonder they think you’re a good target.”
Natsume pouts.
They spend their time in the shrine there, in comfortable silence. Here, no monsters bothered them— here, they could be nothing to the world— not monsters, not weirdos, not unwanted children.
Here, they could simply be at peace.
“Will you be here tomorrow, too?” Natsume had asked. Hopefully, a slight flush in his cheeks and a joy in his eyes that reflected I want to see you again in a way Sakura has never experienced before.
Sakura supposed there was no reason he had to choose a new haunt.
(Sakura was there tomorrow, but Natsume wasn’t. And Natsume never showed up again.)
(He heard around town that he wrecked someone’s fruit stall, and that was the last straw for his relatives, so he got sent away.)
(The youkai, however, were whining about how the stupid brat broke one of their horns, and so, Sakura actually felt immensely proud of him. He couldn’t stop smiling all silly to himself for days just thinking about it.)
The next time Sakura met him, it was perhaps a little more than a year later, in a town much farther than the one they first met in.
Sakura had just moved here the other day. It was summer, and that’s perhaps why Sakura couldn’t see a lot of spirits around. Instead, the problem seemed to be humans .
“Look at that freak. He’d fit right in with the other one, huh?”
“Don’t even try. Look at him, he’s obviously a delinquent. You don’t want to get involved with them, seriously.”
Sakura had his suspicions, so he went out searching. His foster family told him to stay out for the night, anyways, they were going to a restaurant without him or something, and they’d rather not have him snooping around their house.
So, Sakura found Natsume Takashi again.
Specifically, he found Natsume Takashi as a group of human punks held his bag over the moat toying with him as he tossed one book after another into the water and laughed .
“Please don’t!” he pleaded, as they finally droppedthe entire bag in it. They shoved him into the water next— it was shallow, but Sakura saw the way his face sank with dread the second he dropped in. And when he fell into the shallow water— he didn’t surface, and the water splashed violently, like he was struggling. Fighting back, against something .
“Dude, it’s knee-deep! How dumb are you?!” they laugh. They rioted.
“Don’t forget your bag on your way up, freak!”
(And Sakura saw nothing but red.)
Sakura soared in feetfirst, knocking one right out as his skull slammed on the ground, knocking him out cold. Sakura regrets nothing, the guy threw Natsume in. He didn’t have time to focus on the rest, so he broke the nose of the one on the right and grabbed the last one by the face, glaring straight at him as he hissed, promised , “get your friends an fuck off. Now.”
They did, but Sakura didn’t check. Shrugging off his bag, he checked the moat— dammit, why did it have to be summer? He can’t see shit past the mud in the swampy moat, but he could see where the mud moved, he felt the headache spiking where he could vaguely make out—
—huh? Was Natsume’s hair always so white?
He decided to think about it later, reaching in and ripping Natsume out— out of the grip of the marine jellyfishlike monstrosity that snarled at him for taking his prey—
—yeah. Sakura freaked the fuck out.
Everything from there was a complete blank, because all he knew after that was that the thing was mulch under his feet, and Natsume was clinging to him, sobbing inconsolably into his shoulder.
He clung back. He didn’t know what else to do.
It didn’t matter if they were both muddy and gross. He held Natsume close, because someone had to, and no one else would.
(Until that very moment, Sakura had no idea that he could feel so much fear for someone else. He never realized how warm human bodies were, how real Natsume’s body felt against his arms as he clung on, just needing to know that something was real and tangible in this world.)
(They were the only ones who knew the dangers of the world beyond humanity, and that was why no one else would come into the mud with them.)
(So all they could do was cling to each other until they had the courage to face the painful cold of the outside world again.)
“Your hair turns white and your eyes turn green in summer?”
They calmed down, but the sun’s already set, the moon’s up high, and they’re both in so much trouble when they get home. But that’s to be expected, they’re both probably going to get shipped off to the next unwilling housing unit as soon as possible.
But right now, eyes swollen with tears and head aching from all the crying Natsume did, they just wanted to enjoy the serenity of nothingness.
Natsume sniffles and nods, “and winter. It always happens, I don’t know why.”
I don’t know why .
“Heh, same,” Sakura supposes. They were both freaks, then. “No wonder you never had a reaction to my hair.”
Natsume smiles warmly. “I like it. We match.”
“You like matching with a monster?”
“You’re not a monster,” Natsume insists. “We’re human. If we weren’t human, I don’t think we’d ever have to worry about any of this.”
If they were youkai, would things have been different?
Would the youkai accept them, if the humans won’t?
Sakura wants to doubt it. So, knowing he’ll regret it, he says, “there was this spirit, it pulled my eye out once. The doctors tried to kill me too when they saw it grow back the next day.”
The way Natsume stilled spoke volumes.
“So?” Sakura’s voice sounded faraway to his own ears. “Still want to match?”
He expects Natsume to run.
Instead, Natsume scoots closer, and wraps his arms around Sakura, cradling his head gently. And as Sakura found himself burying his face into the crook of Natsume’s neck, he realized what he was doing.
Sakura hated looking weak. He was never allowed to.
So, Natsume hid him from the world— and held him close, promising, “yes.” Yes, they still want to be monsters together. Because if no one else in the world would protect them, they just had to protect each other. “I’m sorry, Haruka-kun. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Sakura croaks out, but he doesn’t hate it. He’s never been apologized to before. “You didn’t do anything, Takashi.”
And Natsume cried back, “I know. That’s why I’m sorry.”
No one else would let them have this.
No one else would understand.
Weak as they were, devastatingly human as they were born— they just didn’t belong anywhere, and there was nothing they could do about it.
And so, Sakura let himself cry, if only because there would likely never be another opportunity like this again.
“I thought I told you to punch them?”
“They’re humans, Haruka-kun.”
“Punch them lighter .”
“Haruka-kun,” Natsume begins patiently, “youkai are one thing. Humans, if I punch them… they come back. And I’m the one at fault. Sometimes they hit back harder, with more people, and I can’t defend against that.”
Sakura scoffs.
“Just punch back, as hard as you can,” he says, “and if they come after you more than you can handle, I’ll be there.”
Realistically, they can’t always be there for each other.
But knowing that there’s someone out there that will be there for them, even if the world’s against them— it’s assuring enough.
(Sakura, of course, had to go back to the orphanage the next day. He broke someone’s nose, gave another a concussion, and traumatized the last one.)
(Of course, no one asked why he did it. He’s a monster, of course he would do it for no reason at all.)
(Natsume also had to leave, but that’s because his relatives thought he was dead. After putting the bullying blame on Sakura though, they didn’t hold it against him. They still didn’t want to deal with anything like this ever again, though, and so, Natsume packed up to leave, too.)
(Sakura wondered, more than once, if he could just take Takashi and run.)
(Run, somewhere the two of them could be together, no one in their way, no one to judge them— they would survive, they would struggle, but they would be together. They wouldn’t be alone.)
(They would truly understand each other.)
(But alas, society wouldn’t allow two underaged kids anywhere out of their sight. And Sakura wasn’t strong enough to survive out there alone, without any support at all. If only…)
(...nah, Takashi deserves better.)
It’s autumn, when Sakura meets Natsume again.
Years could go by, but Sakura still remembers how to spell his name. Even after moving to Makochi, finding footing on his own, and becoming a member of Bofurin— Sakura thinks of him, every once in a while.
Sakura sees Umemiya’s white hair, and he thinks of someone whose hair once reflected the light of the sun that way too. Ephemerally, like something not quite of this world, surrounded by the viridant sprouts he tended to hide between.
(Natsume would never be so enthusiastic about plants, though.)
They had been at Pothos, taking a break between patrol shifts, when they heard the fight break out.
Apparently, a teen had, rather harshly and deliberately in their perspective, crashed into an adult. That resulted in them dropping everything they were holding, which unfortunately included a piece of rather expensive china.
So even though the teen apologized desperately, there wasn’t much he could do to make up for it. Then he grabbed the kid harshly by the collar, “I’m going to make you work your fuckign ass off for that, you brat! You wanna know how adults settle their debts, huh?!”
And then the gangster got punched.
Straight in the face.
His nose caved in.
Chaos ensued, and despite the great first punch thrown, the teen was still a teen, and there were three of those adults. He ran halfway across the street before they caught up to him, and that’s what Bofurin walked in on.
They’ve managed to grab the kid by the scruff, throwing him into a food stall, shattering it completely (oddly. How did one teen’s weight make the roof cave in from the opposing end to shatter into dust like that?) but they couldn’t observe any longer, because Nirei’s shouting now.
“HEY! STOP THAT!”
Sugishita’s charging fastest ahead, Sakura hot on his heels.
Sakura’s feet plunges upon the one reaching for the teen, smashing his head into the alley wall. Sugishita takes down the other, and Nirei holds back the third long enough for Sakura to spin back around and knock him out, too.
Nirei spins to the teen first. “Are you okay?!”
“Ah– yes… thank you very much for the help.”
Sakura turns, so quickly, his eyes lighting up with recognition.
“You’re not from around here, are you? You should be careful,” Nirei fusses over the kid, taking him out of the wreckage of the vegetable stand and apologizing profusely to the owner, who assures them it’s fine.
“Are you injured, kid? That was a bad crash,” the stall owner crouches down, dusting off the wood chips from the teen’s hat and shoulders.
“I’m fine,” he assures, but he seems slightly impatient, holding his hat closer down over his face, “I’m sorry, I have to go—”
Sakura hooks up the wooden pole under his feet, catches it— and launches it forward. Nirei screams in time with the teen, getting pulled down just in time to avoid the flying projectile as it slams against the entrance to the alley— and ricochets violently, before it even hits a wall. It bounces off and lurches all the way back, landing unceremoniously somewhere back beside Sakura’s feet.
There’s terrifying silence.
And then Nirei leaps up, “what was that for, Sakura-san?!” he shrieks hysterically, arms trembling violently. He’s clinging really hard to the teen, though whether he’s protecting the kid or using him as a security blanket, no one can probably tell.
Sakura clicks his tongue. “It got away.”
Sugishita’s looking into the alley. Nothing’s in there. He stares back at Sakura judgmentally, but that’s his permanent state, so Sakura’s not offended.
The stall owner huffs, “you startled me there, Sakura-kun,” he sighs.
“Sorry, old man,” Sakura grouses, “the stall.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It was due a renovation, anyways,” he brushes it off, “that aside, are you alright, kid? Are you sure you’re not hurt? That man threw you around quite harshly.”
“I… yes, I’m fine,” this time, the teen sounded much more at ease, relief overflowing in his words as he melts in Nirei’s hold, and he lifts his head to meet Sakura Haruka in the mismatched eyes.
Sakura huffs.
“It’s like every time I meet you, you get in worse trouble than before,” he grumbles. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he acknowledges, “at least you threw a punch back this time.”
Natsume giggles at that, fondly.
“Well, I knew you’d be disappointed if I didn’t at least try.”
Nirei finally pulls away from his death grip on Natsume, who looks actually mildly embarrassed, looking between them both. He locks in on Sakura, “Sakura-san, you know him?”
“Well… kind of,” Sakura says.
At this point, Sugishita reaches over to grab the teen by the scruff and pretty much heft them up to physically deposit both Nirei and Natsume to their feet. While they’re staring at him befuddled, Sugishita begins helping the stall owner clean up the wreckage, and some of the other shopowners that were hidden away until now came out to see if anyone needed treatment.
Natsume recomposes himself, taking off his hat to reveal his golden brown shades of autumn again.
“It’s been a while, Haruka-san,” he greets. “I’m relieved you look well.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sakura sighs, “what brings you to this place? It’s a dangerous spot for a twig like you to hang around, there’s delinquents everywhere.”
Natsume pouts, “I can handle myself already. Plus, I decided to come alone because I knew I had a friend in the area.”
And Sakura’s face heats up instantly, “W-w-What are you— what did you just—”
From the way Natsume’s smile grows a little, that was exactly the reaction he wanted to see. Natsume glances toward Nirei, who looks similarly fascinated, and Sakura turns away, wishing his face would stop blushing against his will.
They’ve known each other for a while, but to think Natsume would actually use the word friends about them… it’s more embarrassing to hear the word than he’d ever thought.
Nirei is staring at both of them, back and forth, like they were a specimen.
“You two are friends?!” he exclaims, baffled.
“What’s with that surprised tone?!” Sakura’s offended. He’s not completely a lost cause on the amiability department, contrary to popular belief!
Nirei tears up, “Sakura-san, you have friends!” he says, like some crowning, touching milestone has just been achieved.
“Are you picking a fight, you—?!”
Sakura turns away from the middle of his sentence to blush furiously, mainly because Natsume’s looking over the scene like he’s looking at something lovely.
Sakura knows why.
So he just turns around, face beet red, and resigns himself to his fate.
“That’s Takashi,” Sakura says, “a f-f-f… an old friend of mine.”
Natsume’s face blooms red.
“You said it first!” Sakura roars, frustrated from embarrassment now. “Don’t you dare get embarrassed now!”
Sakura would’ve continued being angry, but Nirei suddenly burst out into happy tears, and Sugishita is sending photographic evidence to Umemiya, so first Sakura has to kill everyone in this place and then himself.
“I’m doing well.”
Sakura hears that phrase from him, and he almost can’t believe it. Natsume says it, with a heart full of love, a heart full of his enduring strength, and he means every word. He’s truly happy right now, grateful for how far he’s come.
“This place is good for you, Haruka-san,” Natsume says. “This is a good place. People truly try to see you and understand you. It’s scary, in a good way.”
When he smiles, it’s a beautiful, ethereal thing, and Sakura commits that sight to his memories, knowing he’ll never forget it.
“Maybe that’s why it’s perfect for you!”
And Sakura can't help but feel envious. And proud.
They made it .
Past that hell. Past those days.
How long did it take? Was the journey worth it?
Those are questions neither of them can answer. They can only keep trudging on, until one day, they’ll meet each other again having grown stronger once more. They’re two monsters, and they’re haphazardly drifting around until they can find their own monster-shaped slot to fit into.
(Isn’t it a miracle, how they’ve managed to find it, all on their own?)