Chapter Text
“Sakura-kun, you’re not changing?”
Sakura looks up at Suou from the loose thread he’s been tugging on the leg of his pants. He should really leave it, since he can’t afford to replace his uniform, but it gives him something to look at whilst his classmates get changed.
“I forgot my gym clothes,” Sakura lies, trying not to look too shifty. By the way Suou’s eye narrows, he doesn’t think he’s gotten away with it.
“Hm? Sakura-san, you don’t have anything to wear?” Nirei pipes up, peering around Suou’s shoulder. “I might have a spare shirt in my locker.”
“I’ve got spare shorts if ya need ‘em!” Tsugeura hollers from across the changing room, and all too soon there’s a flurry of action as the students of Class 1-1 collectively offer a full set of gym wear. Sakura should be proud of how organised they all are, but he wilts under the show of kindness, feeling himself turn red to the hairline.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, reaching out to take the cobbled-together kit.
Considering sparring is a part of their daily roster, Sakura doesn’t know why they even have gym class. To him, it’s a weekly challenge to dodge undressing in front of an audience. Sakura waits until the others have shuffled out of the changing room, but Suou and Nirei hang by the door.
“Aren’t you changing?” Nirei asks innocently. The shade of concern creeping into his face has Sakura feeling warm all over. He glances down at the clothes he’s holding to avoid looking at it.
“Nirei-kun, how about we give Sakura-kun some privacy?” Suou suggests menially. Sakura’s head snaps up to catch the knowing smile Suou shoots him. For someone so perceptive, it strikes Sakura just how discreet Suou can be - he’s certainly managed to avoid revealing anything about himself.
Nirei nods fervently, unaware of the guidance. “Of course! See you in there, Sakura-san.”
And then they’re gone, leaving Sakura alone in the heavily graffitied changing room. He waits another minute, just to make sure no one else is coming in before he starts taking off his shirt.
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It’s not that Sakura doesn’t like his appearance.
It’s… fine. He looks fine.
The white hair and strange yellow of his mismatched eye are unique, and something he might really appreciate on another person. But it’s everyone else who’s always had a problem with his appearance, so even though Sakura doesn’t dislike it, he dislikes the trouble it brings him.
Coming to Makochi has given him a welcome reprieve from that prejudice - he doesn’t think the memory of Kotoha marvelling at his eye and comparing it to a marble with wonder in her voice will ever leave him - but it means Sakura now has other aspects of his appearance to be self-conscious about. Things that he knows are inarguably ugly.
The skin beneath his shirt chafes uncomfortably in some places, sensitive from bad healing. Other places he can barely feel at all, the nerves damaged without the money for proper medical care. Sakura would buy treatment oil if he could afford it. For now, the best he can do is keep his body firmly covered to avoid freaking everyone out.
He’s not sure he could take his friends looking at him with the same disgust and fear he’s been shown since he was young.
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Despite what anyone thinks, Kaji actually likes Sakura.
It’s true that sometimes they clash; their personalities are too similar to avoid it. But when Kaji looks at Sakura, he recognises the fear in him. That insecurity he’s intimately familiar with. At least Kaji has had the luxury of hiding the parts he dislikes about himself inside (until they inevitably burst out). He can’t imagine bearing those parts of himself on the outside, naked for all to ridicule. Which he can only speculate is what’s happened to Sakura, judging by the way he flinches and bares his teeth anytime someone even vaguely references his mismatched features.
The white hair and golden iris are unorthodox, sure, but Kaji likes those, too. The longer he looks at the contrast between the two, the more appealing it gets. Kaji wouldn’t mind running his fingers through the part, just to watch the monochrome strands wind together.
He’s out on patrol with Sakura again today. Hiiragi keeps pairing them together, citing that it’ll be good experience for Sakura to learn from an older Grade Captain. As if Sakura needs it; since the whole KEEL incident, the first year seems to have progressed to an entirely new level. He’s more aware of himself and those around him, even in the midst of a fight. He relies on his friends. If anything, he could learn to rely on them a little more; it’s obvious that Sakura has to consciously remind himself to trust people. The reflex to do everything himself still lingers, but that’s normal. No one is expecting Sakura to drop years of survival tactics overnight.
”Did you want something?”
The question knocks Kaji out of his musings, and he zones back in to see Sakura squinting at him, a faint blush high on his cheeks.
“You were staring at me. Have I got something on my face or what?”
He’s trying to look fierce but it only looks like he’s pouting. How adorable. Kaji keeps on walking, ignoring Sakura’s strangled shout of “Hey!” behind him.
“Quit yelling in the street,” Kaji tells him once Sakura has caught up to his side. “Since you’re so energetic, why don’t we stop in on old man Yamada? He’s always trying to lift heavy stuff by himself.”
”Isn’t he like, seventy?”
“Seventy two.”
”Is he crazy?” Sakura’s scowl turns troubled. “That’s dangerous, he could get hurt.”
If Kaji was a less awkward senpai, he’d put his hand on Sakura’s head. He’s too good of a person, worrying about an old man he barely knows like this. Kaji keeps his hands in his pockets.
It doesn’t take them long to make it to Yamada’s place. And just as Kaji predicted, the old coot is being reckless again. As they round the corner, they spot Yamada wobbling backwards, one too many produce boxes stacked in his arms. Before Kaji can even react, Sakura darts forward, looping his arm around the senior’s shoulders to steady him, reaching up to support the unbalanced tower of crates with his other hand. He manages to catch Yamada-ojii-san from falling, but not before a bottle of soda topples from the tallest box and lands squarely on Sakura’s head. It explodes on impact, soaking his uniform.
”Ah, Sakura-san!” Yamada cries, craning his head around to look at the drenched teenager.
Kaji sprints forward then to scoop the crates out of Yamada’s arms. “Oi, old man! What did we tell you about carrying all this heavy stuff on your own? At least ask the shop assistant for help if you’re not gonna ask the Bofurin guys.”
”Sorry, sorry!” Yamada scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s my fault. I’m still not willing to admit I’m so old I can’t carry these things on my own, haha!”
”Ojii-san!” The grocery store assistant comes darting out the back of the shop right on cue. Kaji doesn’t know her name, but based on the facial similarities, he’d guess that she’s Yamada’s granddaughter. She blinks at Sakura covered in sticky brown soda and Kaji holding the crates, and quickly deduces the situation. Turning a frown on Yamada, she says, “Ojii-san! You said you’d tell me when you needed help out back! You’re lucky Bofurin was here to stop you from breaking a hip or something.”
”Is that anyway to talk to your grandfather?” Yamada sputters, sounding faintly amused.
The girl wags a finger at him. “When you start acting like a proper senior, that’s when I’ll treat you like one. What do you think we’d do if you got hurt, huh?”
Next to him, Sakura fidgets uncomfortably at the open display of affection, looking away red-faced. It catches the girl’s attention, and her eyes widen as she takes in his sorry, soda-drenched state.
”Apologies for all the trouble ojii-san here has caused! Please allow me to get you a towel to clean up with.”
Sakura tenses when she bows to him before darting back inside the store.
Yamada sighs good-naturedly. “Ah, my disrespectful granddaughter.” Turning back to them, he continues, “Thank you for the help, boys. I know Kaori-chan would be terribly upset if my foolishness led to an injury.”
Kaji deposits the crates safely against the back door of the shop. “Just try not to do it again. I don’t wanna hear from your granddaughter that you’ve broken a hip.”
”My my, what a cheeky young man you are.”
”Nothing short of what you deserve,” Kaori teases as she reemerges from the back door. She hands Sakura a damp towel and he takes it gingerly, like she might snatch it away again. “I’m sorry about your uniform. I’d be happy to wash it for you, if you want?”
Sakura pauses in wiping down his face to stare at her, cheeks turning a violent pink once more. “That’s— I can take care of it myself!”
”It won’t take more than half an hour!” Kaori promises. “We’ve got a gas washer just upstairs.”
”I—“
Kaji grabs the back of Sakura’s Furin jacket, tugging it half off him in the process. He can already feel the sugar drying stiff and sticky in the fabric. It’s highly unlikely Sakura owns a second one, if the only lunch he brings to school is konbini onigiri.
“Just let her wash it. We’re pretty much done for patrol today, anyway.”
Sakura shrugs out of his jacket with a grumble, letting Kaji toss it to Kaori, but he freezes when he sees Kaji’s hand still out stretched.
”Your shirt, too,” Kaji instructs, looking pointedly at the brown stains soaking through the collar of Sakura’s white T-shirt.
Sakura glances down, visibly blanching. “… Just the jacket is fine.”
”Huh? Are you stupid? If you put your jacket back on over that, it’s just gonna get dirty again.”
Sakura yelps when Kaji makes a swipe for his hem. ”I’m not taking my shirt off!”
Kaji frowns at him. “Are you shy or something?”
He’s not sure when it started, but Kaji has slowly learned the difference between when Sakura is being bashful and when there’s something wrong. Just from the way his kouhai’s fingers twist into the fabric of his T-shirt and the way he grits his teeth whilst avoiding eye contact, Kaji can tell he’s stumbled into the latter.
He sighs, stepping back to start shrugging off his own jacket. “Fine then.”
Sakura twitches, reanimating with a blush. “Wh-what are you doing?”
Kaji yanks his hoodie over his head and chucks it at Sakura. “You can go change behind the delivery truck there,” he says, jerking his chin towards the vehicle beside them.
Sakura catches the hoodie with both hands, blinking between the garment and Kaji several times before finally skulking away behind the K-truck to change.
”How cute,” Yamada chuckles to himself, even as Kaori hisses admonishingly for him not to tease.
Sakura emerges a minute later, tucked safely in Kaji’s hoodie and clutching the soiled shirt in front of him. Kaori whisks it out of his hands and disappears to clean the clothes, dragging Yamada behind her. It leaves Kaji and Sakura alone behind the store with little to do but wait, perched side by side on a couple of stacked milk crates.
It’s worse than Kaji thought; Sakura doesn’t seem able to meet his eyes, as if he’s committed some terrible indiscretion by getting soda all over him in the first place. Kaji should probably say something reassuring to him, but he’s too occupied with how Sakura looks wearing his hoodie. He didn’t anticipate this when he’d offered the garment in the first place; the hoodie is a little long on Sakura, slipping past his wrists in a way that approaches sweater paws . It makes him look smaller, somehow.
Kaji thinks about moving closer, pressing their shoulders together and getting Sakura to lean against him. He’d try it if he thought Sakura could process it, but the first year seems to have already maxed out his daily quota for affection. There’s every possibility that he’ll straight up bolt if Kaji extends any sort of camaraderie.
Instead, he gently kicks Sakura’s ankle to get his attention. “Yo, what sort of music do you like?”
”Huh?” Sakura raises a brow at him. “Oh. I dunno, I’ve never really listened to much music.”
”Seriously? How is that possible?”
Sakura just shrugs. That says more than it should, really. Kaji’s hoodie slips a little down his back with the gesture, revealing a pale line stretching towards his nape. When he spies Kaji looking, Sakura tugs the hood back into place, fingers bunching in the fabric. Whatever, Kaji thinks, everyone has a scar or two from fighting.
“Okay. Tell me what you do and don’t like.”
”Out of what?” Sakura queries.
Kaji disconnects his wireless headphones and pulls up a random song to play on his phone. It blares between them for a few minutes, finally concluding in a long drawn out chord.
Sakura’s brow is furrowed with intense concentration. “It’s… Fine, I guess.”
”We’ll try something else, then.” Kaji pulls up another song, less metal, more rock this time, and plays it through. He glances at Sakura when it finishes. “Better or worse?”
Sakura appears to think about it very seriously for a moment. Eventually he says, “Better than the last one.”
Kaji absorbs this with a nod, then swipes to another song. They continue like this until Kaori comes out again, carrying Sakura’s cleaned and dried uniform. Sakura accepts it from her red as a beet, but he glances down at the hoodie he’s wearing with a pinch in the corner of his mouth.
”Keep it for now,” Kaji tells him. “So you don’t have to bother changing again. You can return it whenever.”
”I’ll wash it,” Sakura promises, shining with determination. He really is a sweet guy, even if he hides behind all that yelling.
“It’s whatever,” Kaji says, starting off home. He knows he walks the same way as Sakura, but his kouhai is resolutely quiet for the rest of the trip. Kaji doesn’t push it. The fact that Sakura had accepted the hoodie in the first place is enough progress for him. Umemiya-san will probably make a bigger deal out of it than it is, so Kaji resolves not to mention it. He can selfishly keep this part of Sakura to himself. At least for a bit.