Chapter Text
Togame often wondered if it would be a stretch to say that he’d been in love with Sakura since the very first time he laid eyes on him.
He doubted it would be believable, not when things between them started on such a rough note, but everything about that first meeting remains so crisp in his memory. The sweltering heat of that day, the humidity making him irritable as he roasted in his Shishitoren jersey, only his chilled ramune in hand as a reprieve to ward off the weather. The report that he’d received that Bofurin had crossed into their territory, were beating up one of their own. Hiragi, one of the four kings of Bofurin was there, and some fresh faced first years he hadn’t seen before.
Togame wasn’t in the habit of paying attention to others; people his age rarely interested him, let alone kids from rival schools. But the boy with monochromatic hair stood out to him, reminding him of the Othello game he played with the old men by the bath house on the weekends. It was one of his favorite games, enjoyed the strategy involved as the pieces atop the board shifted from black to white or vice versa, one color overtaking the other. Togame couldn’t say he was a master at the game, racked up more losses than wins, had a greater preference for Shogi, but he still quite enjoyed it, nonetheless.
That Othello boy —who he’d later tattoo his name on his heart as Sakura Haruka — had studied him, sizing him up, but instead of cowering before him with his tail between his legs, he decided to provoke Togame instead.
Nobody had ever tried to provoke Togame before, not since he joined Shishitoren anyway, growing out his hair and donning a jersey that symbolizes strength and freedom. And yet, here this pipsqueak was, a freshman from another school on his turf, calling him lame because of how they ran things. Even as Togame towered over his small stature, glaring at him over the lens of his sunglasses, Sakura didn’t back down. Rather, he glared at him with the same intensity, looked ready to fight Togame then and there which would have never ended well for him.
That was when Togame noticed that it wasn’t just his hair that was monochromatic, but his eyes were heterochromatic as well. Gray and amber. Pretty, reminding him of the moon and the sun, Togame thought before he could stop himself.
His prettiness aside, however, he was irked by him. The baseless confidence to challenge someone much stronger than himself. The absurd presumption that he understood anything about Togame or Shishitoren. The fact that he called Togame lame.
Anger wasn’t an emotion that Togame often let himself feel. He rarely let anyone get under his skin enough to annoy him. He was an easy going guy for the most part, didn’t talk much and knew how to have a good time. If someone was going to bring the fight to him, then he would deal with it, no skin off his back. Even when Choji started to change, morphing into a version of himself that Togame no longer recognized, he didn’t get angry at him either.
But Sakura made him angry in a way he hadn’t felt in so long.
His anger followed him all the way back to the school, as he reported to Choji what happened and he agreed to escalating things into a gang fight, a sick twist of satisfaction curdling in his gut at the idea of putting that insolent boy in his place. That same anger festered, manifesting under his skin like a tumor as he walked home to help his grandfather at the family restaurant. That anger consumed him, coiling tight knots in the base of his stomach, swelling in his chest when he had a lull of free time to lament.
But under the layers of his own anger, his frustration, Togame could feel something else. Something foreign. A tectonic shift of his heart against his ribcage, beating a loud rhythm against his chest. It was as if a seed had been planted there, and it was starting to grow within him, the roots wrapping around his heart as the shoot and branches spread throughout his ribcage. He felt that if he pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, he’d find a tattoo in the shape of that seedling on his skin, making itself known.
Togame closed his eyes, and once again, Sakura’s face flashed behind his eyes. He wanted to see him again, to fight him, put him in his place, make him understand.
He wouldn’t realize what it meant then, but someday, he would. Togame was already falling for Sakura, and with time, he’d only fall harder.
Later, when Togame fought Sakura on a stage for everyone to see, the anger he’d been carrying for so long started to finally make sense.
‘You’re so lame, but I’ll fight you until you become the cool guy I’d want to fight.’
His words ricocheted inside of his chest, reverberating against his ribcage with a deafening drum. With every blow exchanged, Sakura’s fist colliding with his face or his knee jabbing sharply into his ribcage to force the air out of his chest, Togame felt the world blur around him while everything else came into startling clarity.
His anger hadn’t been directed at Sakura, but at himself, for being called out on all the things he was so deeply ashamed of. The emotions he’d swept under a rug, dug into a part of his mind that was so deep, he could almost fool himself into thinking that it no longer existed. But Sakura had brought the darkest parts of himself to light, unwittingly yes, but he still managed it.
Sakura had been right. He was wrong, they’d all been wrong. Somewhere along the way, Togame had lost himself in his desperate effort to appease Choji, the first person who’d seen him, offered him the warmth of a place he could call a family. That same family that he beat up in Choji’s stead, stripping them of their pride. What was the point of it all? Strength? Did that kind of strength equate to freedom? To happiness?
If it did, then why was his heart always so heavy? When was the last time he’d felt happy? He didn’t know, but in that stolen moment in time, exchanging blows, every muscle in his body aching as he pushed himself further, pain exploding in several discrete areas —he knew he was happy for the first time in so long.
And when he lost, lying on the ground, he wasn’t attuned to the pain that overwhelmed every single one of his senses. No, all he could focus on was how strongly Sakura reacted to Choji hitting him, so immensely protective. Sakura shined then, his eyes blazing bright as he fought not to hurt, but to protect. Sakura wanted to protect him.
He couldn’t say that something like that had ever happened before. He was strong, knew how to hold his own in a fight, and if he couldn’t, then it made sense for him to be eliminated. He didn’t blame Choji for doing what he did, because Togame had betrayed his expectations of him, he’d disappointed him. He couldn’t be the pillar he needed to rely on.
But Sakura saw someone worth protecting in him, not because he was weak, but maybe because he respected him. Perhaps, in some way, this boy who hardly knew anything about him understood him better than anyone else could.
Then Sakura turned to him, his eyes blazing with a fire that Togame could only marvel at.
“I want you to become someone who’s hella cool!” Sakura pointed at him, so much intensity radiating off his small frame. “Don’t ever act lame like that again. You heard that?”
Perhaps, if he hadn’t just had the common sense literally knocked back into him, he would have been annoyed that this boy who was younger than him was yelling at him. Daring him to change, to become a better version of himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to summon those negative feelings anymore.
All he could do was bow his head, hair falling in his eyes as he averted his gaze from Sakura’s light, feeling unworthy of gazing upon something so bright, so pure.
“I promise.”
Once again, his heart tugged, beating a wicked frenzy against his chest. Blood rushed to his ears, warmth flooding in his chest, festering. It reminded him not of the overwhelming heat of summer, but of the first warmth of spring, when the cherry blossoms first start to bloom after a long winter. It wasn’t something that he could stop or resist, just like one couldn’t control the steady march of time or the change of the seasons.
‘Sakura is truly such a fitting name for him,’ he thought to himself, deciding that if there was one person he would remember, then it would certainly be Sakura.
Togame busied himself after the fight with Bofurin with rebuilding Shishitoren from the ground up.
It was thankless work. It wasn’t something that could be solved with a single dinner or an apology, but demanded a lot of effort. Wanijima, their second in command, insisted that he get discharged from the hospital early to help when he heard about what happened, but Togame staunchly refused. The two of them, Togame and Choji, who’d allowed the gang to deteriorate to the state it had reached, both had something to prove to the guys of their team. It couldn’t be anyone but them who could show them that this would be the start of a new Shistoren. Freedom that wasn’t built on violence, but on integrity.
Some members accepted this change gratefully, no longer suffocated by the anxiety that they might be forcefully evicted from the team because they’d shown any sign of weakness. Others, however, were clearly disappointed by this turn. Togame wasn’t naive, he knew that most people joined gangs because they liked to fight others, relished the violence involved, and so it took quite a lot of work to weed those people out.
The results were rewarding, however. His heart felt lighter, and Togame felt that Choji’s was too. His smiles were more jubilant and his eyes shined again, involving himself more with the other members of their team, learning to value their worth not on their individual strength but who they were as a person. It warmed Togame’s heart to see Choji return back to the boy he met at that summer festival all those years ago, the sun he decided to dedicate himself to.
Every now and again, when he wasn’t busy rebuilding Shishitoren or doing his part time job, Togame’s mind would drift to Sakura.
He didn’t really want to think about him as often as he did, which was more than a few times per day, but he couldn’t help it. This time, he couldn’t even hide behind a masquerade of anger, because he could never hate Sakura. Not anymore, not after everything that had transpired between them. Their fight was so intimate, one he continued to revisit, long after his bruises had healed and his scars scabbed over.
So instead, he’d…lament.
Every time he played Othello with the old men by the bath house, he was reminded of him, struck with the realization that Sakura was nothing like the game he loved so much. Strategy didn’t work on Sakura, he was so unpredictable, so unexpected, which made Togame want to figure him out even more. When he drank ramune, the pineapple flavor would remind him of the deep amber color of his eyes, betraying a softness in their depths even as he glared at Togame. If he drifted during his patrols, closer to Bofurin’s turf, part of him would hope that he might catch a glimpse of Sakura. Even if it was just from a distance.
The thought of Sakura made him feel vaguely sick. His heart rate would quicken again, but it was heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that they might never cross paths again. There was so much he wanted to tell him, but also, he didn’t have the words to express them.
Until one day, he did get to see him again.
Togame had been shopping in the neutral part of their city, the part that didn’t belong to any gangs, in search of a certain brand of tea that he couldn’t find in his part of town. His grandfather had particular tastes when it came to tea, and Togame would be lying if that curated palate didn’t pass down to him in turn.
The neutral areas of the city were fair game for him to go without running into any trouble, they were the parts with the nice neighborhoods and the fancy folk that probably sent their kids to high end cram schools and had servants to tend to their every beck and call. Unlike their run down parts of town where the cops were practically nonexistent with how useful they were, the cops were vigilant, and a gang fight wouldn’t be able to break out there without grave consequences following for everyone involved.
He generally liked to frequent that neutral part, take off his jersey, and just be a normal guy for a little while. People didn’t recognize him in those parts, didn’t walk away quickly while casting furtive looks his way as if he might attack them when they crossed paths in the street. He could bump into someone there by accident and not have it escalate into an aggravated gang fight. People went about their days normally, and so did Togame.
On his way out of the grocery store, oolong tea now acquired in a plastic bag as he lazily sipped on a ramune, he caught a glimpse of monochrome.
Togame didn’t pay attention to people. That wasn’t his thing. He didn’t care about what random people on the street did or what they said, it simply didn’t affect him in any way. But that flash of monochrome was enough for Togame to crane his neck to see if he wasn’t hallucinating. Wishful desires manifesting in the form of delusion.
He blinked, and surely enough, it was him. Sakura. He’d recognize that head of monochrome anywhere, let alone his unique tone of voice. His chest tightened.
Sakura was flanked by his two friends, whose names he no longer remembered, the blonde freckled one and the brunet with the eyepatch. The three of them were dressed casually, also bereft of their Bofurin jerseys, their laughter high in the air. Their backs were retreating from him, and Togame could catch only parts of their conversation.
‘I think we’re lost, Nire-kun.’
‘...not lost. Google maps says that the mall is just down – take a right —’
‘We are totally lost —don’t trust those online maps —always wrong —’
‘— sound like an old man, Sakura-kun.’
‘I am not an old man!’
Togame smiled, watching their retreating backs until he was no longer in earshot, unable to catch anything else. Sakura, he realized, when he wasn’t in the middle of a fight, looked a lot more relaxed. His shoulders loose, hands buried in his pockets, the tips of his ears dusted with a tint of red as his friends poked fun at him. It was unlike any expression Togame had ever seen on Sakura’s face before, had only ever seen him when he was shaking with rage or dripping with condescension.
Fleetingly, he wondered if Sakura could ever look at him with the same expression, the one he clearly reserved for the closed circle of friends he kept close to his chest.
That thought begged the question of whether he should approach Sakura or not, he wasn’t too far off yet that he couldn’t try to approach him naturally. He hadn’t recognized him as he walked by, neither did his friends, and he didn’t blame them. He’d cut his hair recently, and he’d been told that he looked older now without the messy braid, but he hadn’t cared at the time. He had wanted to shed himself of the tresses that weighed him down, a look that signified a version of himself that he now resented. It might be silly, but by cutting his hair, he felt as if he’d been reborn. A fresh start.
He was doing good on his promise towards Sakura, and part of him wanted to show that to him.
But what would he say if he approached him? Would he just say hello? But what would Sakura say in response? Would it bother him to be approached on the streets of a neutral part of the city by a guy he once fought until they both turned black and blue? They didn’t have anything in common, any shared interests to discuss.
If he thought about it, for as much as he wanted to talk to Sakura, he had nothing to say to him. At least not in this transition period, one where he remained unsure of where he stood, whether he’d become someone that Sakura would want to willingly spend time around. His heart sank in his chest, settling in the base of his stomach, heavy as a rock.
For a few moments, Togame watched Sakura as he walked away. His chest tugged, as if wanting to follow, but he resisted the urge.
A sigh left his chest, heavy and cumbersome. He was suddenly craving something stronger than the ramune. A cigarette. Nicotine was his best friend when it came to alleviating ailments of the heart, the mind, would fill his chest with smoke and feel his frayed nerves start to settle down into a thrum of white noise he could drown out. But cigarettes were one of the things he decided to quit when he turned a new leaf.
Right now, however, he really craved one. Ignoring the urge, Togame turned around, deciding to go home instead.
Perhaps, had he turned around, he would have caught the glance that was thrown his way. Curious, lingering. But he didn’t turn around, and so, Togame remained oblivious.
Togame had had another shitty day, but he tried not to let it weigh him down. Changing things was easier said than done, and today, he’d been beaten up by some underclassmen. It had hurt his pride, but if he fought back, he felt that would make things worse so he let them make a mockery of him instead.
He left school afterwards, taking off his jersey as soon as he left their turf, feeling light without it weighing him down. He busied himself bussing tables and cooking in the kitchen when his grandfather needed help in the back, and for a time, it helped.
That was, until things slowed down, the shift coming to an end, and Togame no longer had anything to distract himself with. He wiped one of the tables listlessly, forcing himself to focus on the cyclical motion of his hand scrubbing the sticky beer stains off the hard surface.
“Why do you look so forlorn, son?” his grandfather asked him, squeezing Togame’s shoulder.
“Did I?” Togame plastered a smile atop his face. It felt brittle. “I don’t feel particularly sad, though, so maybe it’s just my face.”
“Hmm, it could be so,” his grandfather replied. “But I find that the eyes are the windows of the soul, and your eyes carry a sadness within them.”
Togame swallowed.
His mother had died when he was young, she’d had a congenital heart disease and she was never supposed to live long, and surely enough, she’d died when he was seven. The pain of that loss was one that he still carried, still recalls the warmth leaving her hand as she caressed his cheek during her final moments, falling limp onto the bed underneath her. Even if it had been expected, her death had still been a blow to him at that time, a child who hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around the concept of someone leaving his life forever.
After his mother passed, his father hadn’t been himself, a shell of who he used to be. He was taken with grief, spiraled, didn’t eat nor did he go to work, unable to do anything besides look down the bottom of a bottle. He never raised a hand to Togame, but it was like he wasn’t even there, his son an invisible specter in a broken home left bereft without the mother and wife to keep it anchored. When his mother died, Togame realized some time afterwards that he had lost both his parents, not just the one.
Once his grandfather had deemed that his father wasn’t fit to raise a child, he’d taken him in instead. It had been ten years since then, but Togame barely heard any word from his father besides birthdays, an awkward phone call that barely lasted two minutes.
In summary, his grandfather was all he had, and he understood Togame better than anyone else. Togame usually appreciated that closeness, but in times like these, it frustrated him. Regardless, Togame would rather punch himself in the face than lie to his grandfather.
“Things are just complicated now,” Togame finally said, biting back the heavy sigh that threatened to leave his chest. “That’s all.”
“I see,” his grandfather replied. He smiled, stretching the wrinkles across his face. “Well, I always found that having a hot cup of tea is one of the best remedies for uncomplicating things.”
Before Togame could argue, his grandfather, still quite spry for his age, was already standing up and heading to the stove so he could brew them two cups of tea. Most likely oolong tea, judging from the aroma that was already wafting towards him. His heart swelled, touched by his grandfather’s endless kindness.
He stood up, carrying the tea tray with steady precision so the contents didn’t slosh over, his grandfather thanking him as they sat opposite each other in the empty restaurant. These slow moments at the end of the night, after all the customers had left, leaving only Togame and his grandfather, were some of his favorite moments of the day. This was the most time the two of them ever got to spend time together, unencumbered by customers and their orders or Togame’s duties at school.
They both sipped on their tea slowly, savoring the warmth that flooded their systems, the aromatic taste. Togame didn’t drink his tea with much sugar, nothing more than half a teaspoon, just enough to bring out the taste of the tea he was drinking. His grandfather drank it with no sugar, had claimed that it was so he could taste the tea as it was, no garnishes or additions to morph the flavor into something different.
“Tell me, son, what is so complicated that it’s weighing you down so much?” his grandfather said, breaking the silence first. “Maybe if you share the burden with your old man, it won’t be so bad.”
Togame’s eyes closed, letting the hot tea singe his tongue as it lingered there. His grandfather was much too kind to him. He didn’t deserve it.
“Things haven’t been great for a while, you know, with the gang and all that,” Togame hedged. He considered his grandfather for a moment —knew that his grandfather didn’t quite approve of his only grandson participating in gang activity but he hadn’t been able to stop Togame from doing what he wanted— but his expression remained unchanged. “But things have been looking up lately. I’m apprehensive about what the future might bring, but also cautiously optimistic.”
“That’s good.” His grandfather tilted his head to the side. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
Togame wondered if all families were like this. If their family members understood them so well that they felt like an open book. He didn’t know, not when his own upbringing had been so fraught, and the other boys in the gang didn’t have much better backgrounds. But he wasn’t used to being so seen.
He nodded.
“I guess not. Though it does worry me sometimes, that I might not be a very good person.”
Togame remembered stripping fellow gang members of their jerseys, how low he had to bow his head as he returned their jerseys back to them, asking them if they would like to join Shishitoren again or not, promising them that things would be different this time around. Some agreed, but others scoffed in his face. Just today, someone spat in his face, told him to drop the nice guy act because it was nauseating to watch.
He hadn’t even been able to reply, too choked up by his own shame to say anything in response. On what basis could he argue something that was true?
“Bad people don’t worry about such things,” his grandfather said, pausing to take a small sip of his tea. “You were just going through a tough time. So was your friend.”
“I really want things to be different this time,” Togame told him, his chest tightening. “Sometimes I’m afraid that I’ll lapse into that guy again, cruel and indifferent—I don’t want to be the way I used to be, I want to be better. Cooler.”
“You’re young, Jo, and you’re allowed to make mistakes. To lose your path a few times before you find the right one. It’s never too late to turn around, to become better,” his grandfather placed a hand over Togame’s, squeezing it. “As long as you remain the way you are now, trying to be true to yourself, always trying to be better, then you’ll become the person you want to be. But don’t be too hard on yourself along the way, you’re still just a boy.”
‘I’ll always stay true to myself!’ Weren’t those the words that Sakura screamed at him as they fought? Those words had shook him to his core, a stark reminder of how much he’d lost himself over time.
At seventeen —having experienced the loss of both his parents, holding the position of vice president at Shishitoren, working a part time job and spending his entire summer manning booths at summer festivals —he never saw himself as young. If anything, he felt himself far older than his age, even when compared to the other boys his age. Maybe that was patronizing to think that way, but he felt it to be true. Besides his grandfather, nobody really understood him.
And maybe Sakura, too, he amended, his chest swelling with fondness.
Could he believe his grandfather, though? Was it too reductive to think that things could change so easily? That Togame himself could change so easily? Maybe he really was overcomplicating things.
“Maybe,” Togame conceded, taking a large sip of his tea before it became too lukewarm. “I’ll try.”
“But what caused this shift?” his grandfather asked him, his green eyes which were so similar to his own, lighting up with interest. “Did something happen? Or should I say, someone?”
Togame stilled, hand freezing over his tea cup. His grandfather’s expression sharpened, his smile shifting into something more teasing.
“Oh ho, it seems like I hit the nail on the head.” His grandfather hid his smile behind his own tea cup. “You do like to act much older than your age, an old soul inside of you, but at the end of the day, you’re just a boy.”
“Gramps, please stop.” Togame buried his face in his hands, could feel how hot his cheeks were against the palms of his hands. “I’m not gonna have this conversation with you.”
“How could I stop? My cute grandson has found himself a nice lady, one that’s special enough that he wants to change for her.” Togame could hear the happy lilt in his tone despite how he was teasing him. “Will you tell me about her?”
Togame hesitated. His grandfather was so kind, so supportive, but he’d never told him that he probably didn’t like girls. He’d heard the boys around him talk about porn, the girls they dated and hooked up with, but he didn’t share the same interest. When girls at festivals had shown an interest in him, blushed or tried to flirt with him, he’d only feel put off, the rejection ready on his tongue before he could even think better of it.
But with boys, it was different.
He didn’t have much experience in that department either, but there was one boy before. The second in command at Shishitoren, the first guy he became friends with after Choji introduced them, Wanijima.
Togame hadn’t known how it started with him, but it had been so easy. Patrols together turning into late nights spent watching the stars. Careful distance between them started to become infinitesimally smaller until there was no distance at all, their fingers brushing together, their eyes meeting with understanding. Fleeting touches and lingering gazes turning into stolen kisses in the shed behind the school, meeting at Wanijima’s place to do more. It had been the first time Togame ever desired another, wanted to hold someone else, take care of them.
Togame had learned many things about himself with Wanijima. He learned for a fact that he was gay. He learned that even if he liked to fight hard, he wanted to love gently. He learned how nice it was to have someone he could truly be himself with without having to pretend for once.
They weren’t like that anymore — maybe the way Togame had changed had caused the first fracture between them —but it was Wanijima who said that the two of them worked better as friends. Togame wasn’t one to argue, to push back, so he had agreed. He had missed Wanijima, the easy comfort he offered him, but he adjusted to life without him easily enough by throwing himself into Shishitoren instead. Things were awkward for a time, but after the fight that landed Wanijima in the hospital, he visited him, and things were almost back to normal again.
Or as close to normal as they could get when they shared so many intimacies between them that they couldn’t share with anyone else.
“What if I said it was a special boy?” Togame said finally, a lump in his throat. “Not a girl.”
“Then I would still ask you to tell me all about this special boy,” his grandfather replied simply, without missing a beat, squeezing Togame’s hand once more.
Togame felt his eyes sting, but he ignored the feeling, taking a sip of his now cold tea instead, finishing it off. He’d been silly to think that his grandfather would ever be anything less than kind and accepting towards him —a privilege he never intended to take for granted.
“He’s amazing,” Togame said finally. Unbidden the words spill out once they start, unspooling like a ball of thread. “He annoyed me at first, but —but he’s the first person to peel back all my layers and see what’s underneath. Fighting him… it felt magnetic, electrifying. I felt seen in a way that I never felt before. And I felt like I understood him, too. There’s a stubbornness about him, a determination that propels him forward even though he’s not that strong really, never backs down from his beliefs no matter what. And I just —I admire him a lot. He makes me wanna be better.”
“Ahh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that expression on your face before, Jo.” His grandfather’s eyes are twinkling now with amusement. “It sounds like you’re in love with this boy.”
Togame sputtered at that statement, so absurd that couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. “What are you talking about, Gramps? I’ve only met this guy a handful of times.”
“Love knows no rationale, Jo,” his grandfather said simply, placing his tea cup gently back onto the tray. “I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on your grandmother that she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving. Sometimes you meet someone and you just know.”
Togame looked down, clenching his hands over his knees, the fabric bunching up between his fingertips. He remembered the first time he laid eyes on Sakura, how he stood out to him then, so defiant and proud. So pretty. Their fight afterwards, the blows they exchanged, the way Sakura kept trying to show Togame something he’d been insistent on denying. The warmth that blossomed in his chest. The desperate yearning he held onto that he might see Sakura again, even if it was a mere glimpse. The sadness that festered when he thought that he might never see him again.
Even with Wanijima, he’d never felt something so acute, so profound towards him. With Wanijima, things were warm and comfortable. With Sakura, he was desperate, wanted so much more than what he currently had. He wanted to mean something to Sakura the same way he meant to him.
Maybe it was too soon to call his feelings such a big word, he hardly knew Sakura after all, but he felt that it was a terribly apt word to at least approximate how he felt.
“I —I’ve never been in love before,” Togame whispered. “I don’t know if I have the capacity to feel something like, well, that.”
“You’re still so young, but there’s a first time for everything.” His grandfather reclined against the back of his chair. “The first love of youth is like a blue spring, blossoms greatly, but sometimes doesn’t last more than a single season. You can let it pass naturally, let the seasons change and your love wither. Alternatively, you could nourish that feeling and see what comes out of it. It might be something beautiful, everlasting even.”
Togame tried to imagine holding onto Sakura, his fingers slipping through his own, but even in his own imagination, the harder he tried to hold on the more Sakura would slip away. Sakura would go somewhere far away from reach, shining amongst his friends who loved and cared for him, all while Togame remained in the background, surrounded by others but still so alone. He couldn’t see a single scenario where Sakura would turn back and see him, let alone reciprocate those feelings. As he was now, he knew that he didn't deserve to be the object of Sakura's affections.
He smiled mournfully, a small sigh falling from his lips.
“Blue spring, huh?” Togame thought, imagining his love for Sakura blooming in spring, wilting as the season changed. “That’s quite the apt comparison. Bittersweet, too.”
“It is, isn’t it?” his grandfather laughed mirthfully. “How are you feeling now, son? Are things any less ‘complicated’ now?”
Talking about his feelings didn’t really help solve any of his problems, but it did help alleviate the weight atop his chest. Understanding his feelings, putting a name to them, at least helped him grapple with that tightness in his chest.
Now, it would be easier to do what he needs to do next.
“Yes.” Togame nodded, smiling at his grandfather. This time, his smile while still heavy, felt more genuine. “Thank you, Gramps, for everything.” For accepting me, loving me, supporting me.
“I don’t know what decision you’ll take, Jo, but just remember that you deserve love, too.”
And while Togame appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t quite agree.
Togame had made his peace that he wouldn’t see Sakura again, that the torch he held for him would naturally be put out on its own with some time, but Sakura was the one to approach him first.
He’d been startled when the boys told him that Sakura from Bofurin had made his way all the way to Shishitoren, and even more so, he wanted to see Togame.
He nodded, plastered a smile on his face, and hoped the rapid beat of his heart didn’t show on his face. He wanted to look calm, collected. Cool. He didn’t know why Sakura was here, but he didn’t want him to regret it. So, he took him away from the rest of the boys, up to the rooftop where they could be alone. The view was nice from up there, too, and he kind of wanted to share that with Sakura.
Togame wasn’t stupid. He knew that Sakura wouldn’t come to their turf alone because he wanted to say hello. He surely wanted something, a favor that was big enough that he’d come to Togame directly. He told himself that no matter what Sakura asked, he would do his best to fulfill the request for him.
And surely enough, Sakura told him that he needed help. He told him about the declaration of war against Bofurin from Endo and Chika, two names he was familiar with, did his best to avoid them because they were the troublesome type. They liked to wreak havoc for the sake of it, to flex their strength, to hurt others just because it was fun to do so. He never liked to consort with those kinds of people, even when he was in dark sided era.
But when Sakura beseeched him for help, a blush high on his cheeks, he couldn’t find it within him to say no. If Sakura needed him, then Togame would be damned if he didn’t show up to help him. He’d bring it up with Choji, see what they could do to help, but even if Choji refused to help, he planned to go alone.
“Can I say something a little embarrassing?” Togame asked before he could think better of it.
“Sure.” Sakura sipped on the ramune that Togame had cracked open for him.
“I was really happy when you showed up,” Togame said softly, rubbing his fingers against the cool glass of his ramune bottle, smearing the droplets of condensation against the smooth surface. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”
And it was true. Seeing Sakura on the street that time had been painful, because it had been a reminder of everything that was so close yet so far out of reach. Now that they were together again after so long had his chest feeling so buoyant that he could float away, his heart beating up a frenzy that he was sure would be concerning under different circumstances. His lips kept curling upwards despite his best efforts to maintain a mask of calmness. With Sakura by his side, the sun setting overhead as it painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, was captivating in a way it wasn’t every other day. Drinking his ramune with Sakura, it tasted better than it ever had, a richness to it that bursted on his tongue. He shouldn’t be so happy to see Sakura again, but his heart continued to betray him, wanting something that Togame knew he could never have.
Sakura looked at him, and for the first time since their fight, Togame felt like Sakura was really seeing him. The blush that was a permanent fixture on his face —which Togame found incredibly endearing— deepened, spreading to his ears, all the way to his collarbones. Sakura’s eyes glinted in the setting sun, more beautiful than any sunset, Togame thought. His fingers clenched around the ramune bottle, downed his entire bottle in one gulp. Togame was bemused by his reaction, but he had a hunch that Sakura was the type to get even more flustered if he got called out on his shyness.
Even if a large part of Togame did want to tease him, curious about how red he could make Sakura.
“Don’t be weird.” Sakura waves him off, lips twisting into a pout. “Of course we would see each other again —we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Are we?” Togame mused, casting a glance at the setting sun, watching the colors in the sky blend together, oranges and reds forming a dusky violet. “I thought we were more like acquaintances. Maybe allies? But we don’t really know enough about each other to be friends, right?”
A pang resounded in his chest at the way Sakura visibly deflated at his words, his shoulders sagging, averting his gaze. He looked upset. Maybe disappointed. Togame felt the inexplicable urge to smooth over those negative feelings, hated seeing Sakura look upset in any capacity, let alone because of him.
“But how about we amend that?” Togame suggested, bumping his shoulder against Sakura’s.
“How?” Sakura mumbled, casting a sidelong glance at Togame.
“Well, we could start with exchanging numbers?” Togame offered, ignoring the voice in his head that said he shouldn’t be doing this. That becoming closer would make it that much harder to let Sakura go. “We could talk without having a particular reason or motive to do so —at least, that’s how most people do it I think.”
Friendship wasn’t quite the thing that Togame sought out with Sakura, but he would like to be able to say hello to him if they crossed paths on the street without feeling like it was weird to do so. He wanted to learn how Sakura ticked, what he did during his free time, how he looked when he smiled or laughed. If that was all he could get from Sakura, then Togame didn’t mind. It was much better than the nothing he had before.
Sakura considered that for a moment, but he nodded, a tint of red staining his cheeks once more. Togame had a feeling that if he brushed his fingers against his skin, it would be burning hot to the touch.
“I guess that works.”
“I’ll be in your care, Sakura.” Togame let his name roll off his tongue, enjoying the sweet way it tasted as it lingered there. “And you’ll be in mine.”
Sakura buried his face partially in his arms, as if trying to hide how flustered he was, and Togame couldn’t help the warmth that festered in his chest. Cherry blossoms in full bloom, growing, taking hold of his heart that no longer felt like his own.
These feelings he held for Sakura were completely irrational, hopeless and pointless, the kind he’d probably look back on someday and laugh at. But perhaps, he rationalized to himself, if they made his whole world shine brighter, his heart light in his chest — it would be okay if he held onto these feelings for a little while longer.
Choji liked to call him Kame, a nickname he affectionately gave him when they first met, and it had latched on since then.
Togame liked the name. It sounded similar to his own name, for one, so it was fitting. The way the name sounded as Choji eagerly called it, as if he was genuinely ecstatic to see him, a reaction Togame had never elicited in anyone else he knew. It also meant turtle. Turtles were known typically for being slow, but he knew there was more to them than that.
Turtles were also symbolic for longevity, good fortune, patience, and perseverance.
Togame didn’t care for living a long life or having a life full of good luck and happy circumstances, but patience and perseverance were two ideals he wished to embody in his everyday life. Even if he was slower than his peers, had a languid quality about him that made others pause and double take, he knew that if he was patient, good things would come, and if he persevered, he could achieve what he wanted.
On the evening of that war with Endo’s party, Togame had to remind himself once more of the person he wanted to be, refrain from slipping back into who he once was. Violent, cruel, ruthless.
It was difficult, though. Sakura was depending on him, and he brought out all the boys from Shishitoren to help. Ever since his fight with Sakura, fighting had become such a drag, but now, he wanted to fight for a reason other than subjugation or because it was what Choji wanted him to do. This time, he would fight to protect someone he cared about.
For once, Togame wanted to be the hero of the story rather than its villain.
Togame found him at the bridge, and Sakura’s eyes met his own, and within them, he could see a flicker of relief but also gratitude. He’d been waiting for him, and now, he was finally here to help. Something that Togame knew that Sakura struggled to ask for.
Sakura was being held by the collar of his shirt by some big gorilla of a guy, blood staining his beautiful face, and everything he’d told himself about holding onto patience and perseverance, being a beacon of calm tranquility, all vanished in a single moment. Bright, hot fury coursed through his body, singeing his veins as it did. He moved faster than he could process, extricating Sakura from his hold and replacing him in this fight. For the first time, he felt hatred well inside of him, ugly and all-consuming.
They were delinquents, and guys like them always got hurt, but seeing Sakura so hurt by the hands of that sneering asshole had Togame seething.
“Thanks,” Sakura told him as he wiped away the blood dripping down his nose, none the wiser of the tempest of rage that was surging within him. “Sorry.”
“No need to thank me,” Togame replied. “I’m just paying you back.”
Tonight, Togame would fight to protect Sakura and assist him in achieving everything he wanted. Sakura wanted to protect this town, and while he had never been to this part of the city nor did he know its residents, Togame would be sure to protect it as well. Togame would be damned if he let himself disappoint Sakura now.
And so, Togame fought swiftly and he didn’t let himself languish in the fight. He did not care for this guy or his fascination with seeing blood spilled. His punches landed hard, didn’t care to soften them any, wanted this person to hurt a hundred folds for every bruise he landed onto Sakura’s body. Everything he said turned into white noise, negligible nonsense that didn’t matter at all, not when he wanted nothing but to return to Sakura’s side.
Sakura wanted to fight Endo, and Togame worried despite knowing how capable Sakura was of holding himself in a fight.
Based on the rumors he heard bits and pieces about Endo when he inquired about him after Sakura asked for his help, he learned of his handsome face and the body that was decorated in tattoos, incredibly charming with an eclectic tastes in boys and girls alike. When his juniors at Shishitoren were showing him pictures from Endo’s SNS account, all with a different person hanging off his arm, and several of his red-haired leader, Chika, he could sense he was a player of some sort. Endo liked people who could challenge him in some way, the juniors told him, people who kept him entertained, even if Chika would always be his favorite at the end of the day.
The thought of Endo taking a shine to Sakura had his stomach tying together in knots.
It wasn’t anything he should have any business in caring about, because Sakura and him were barely friends, and yet. And yet, it did bother him. Greatly at that. He didn’t want Sakura to get hurt, of course, but he also didn’t want him to be taken by someone more charming and interesting than he would ever be.
It might be greedy, but he didn’t want Sakura to look at other men. He wanted to be the only one that Sakura cared about, the only one he could turn to.
Apparently, Togame wasn’t so accepting of letting Sakura go after all.
“Sorry, but I’m in a bit of a rush,” Togame said, slamming the heel of his sandal into his opponent’s stomach. His opponent doubled over, gasping as spittle mixed with blood rained onto the concrete. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to waste on nobodies like you.”
Togame always wanted to embody the pristine calmness of the turtle, but tonight, he would let go of those ideals and become a fierce tiger instead.
Watching Sakura fight Endo made Togame’s chest ache.
He knew what it was like to fight Sakura, knew how exhilarating it was to fight someone so driven and committed to winning even if it came at his own expense, never flinching even when his opponent was physically stronger. For so long, Togame had been turning off his own emotions, his thoughts even, because if he couldn’t feel or think about what he was doing, if he numbed himself to it all, then it would all be easier to compartmentalize. Fighting with Sakura, however, had not only made Togame feel seen, but it also made him feel once more. A flood of emotions had overwhelmed him then, so many that he hadn’t known how to process when he’d spent so many months living in a fog of despondency and self-loathing, knocking him to his feet under their weight.
Fighting him was one thing, but watching him fight was another.
There was a certain intimacy to the way Sakura fought. As if he was searching for something deep within his opponent, as if he was trying to understand them through every blow exchanged. Alternatively, Endo fought Sakura chaotically, frenzied, searching for entertainment every time he broke Sakura’s skin and made him bleed. And he did find it. He seemed to be on top of the world, so enthused, his eyes blazing with a freshly ignited flame.
Togame knew the feeling, had felt that flame roaring in his chest ever since that day he first laid eyes on Sakura.
And yet, Togame was able to ignore his jealousy in lieu of admiring the view of Sakura fighting, creating a visual that was more captivating than any photo or painting he’d seen in the nicest of museums.
Sakura, washed in moonlight, because even on a night like this where another gang attempted to paint the town red as a power play, the moon still shined and illuminated the streets with a gentle silvery sheen. Sakura was captivating in the moonlight, the white half of his hair appearing luminescent in its glow. Even with blood streaked on his face, his knuckles bruised, chest rising and falling rapidly to catch his breath as he landed and took blow after blow from Endo—he was beautiful, breathtaking.
Watching Sakura in his element like this made Togame’s chest tug, and he had a moment of overwhelming vertigo despite how his feet were planted firmly on the ground, and he had the fleeting thought that perhaps this was what it meant to fall for someone else. A distinct weightlessness, the kind where gravity called a person back to the earth, without any regard of whether anyone would be there to break his fall or not.
Part of him thought that it didn’t matter, though. Even if Sakura never caught his fall, even if he fell and broke every bone in his body and covered himself in scars and bruises, he wouldn’t want to trade this feeling for anything. A feeling he was finally brave enough to put a label to instead of skirting around it because he was too scared of dealing with the consequences of what it would entail for him.
Perhaps his grandfather had been right all along. It would seem that Togame really was in love with Sakura, had been for quite some time now, and he didn’t want to let that feeling go.