Chapter Text
It was a cool night — the kind that felt just like the one when Toman disbanded. The way Mikey had suddenly brought it up back then had shocked everyone, even Takemichi.
Fond memories of the gang drifted through Sakura's head.
He wondered what had happened to everyone since. Were they happy? Safe? He'd been whisked away soon after the breakup and somehow ended up in Furin.
Toman had been the first group to accept him for who he was — the first not to care about his looks. It was his odd style that had caught Mikey's attention in the first place, starting their friendship.
If only he'd had a phone back then. Maybe he could still talk to them now.
He'd actually like to see them again, to know how they were doing. But the idea of them meeting the Furin guys...
Sakura shuddered at the thought. Furin would get nosey and loud. Knowing Toman, they'd join right in. Too much chaos for him to handle at once.
Still, it was just a thought. There was no way they'd come all the way to Makochi.
He walked toward the convenience store — he was running low on a few necessities. The cracked pavement glimmered faintly under the flickering streetlights. A soft hum of electricity buzzed from the sign above the door.
The street was quiet; everyone had probably gone home for the night. A stray cat slunk along the alley, hissing softly at a rusted trash can.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of instant noodles and floor cleaner. He wandered through the aisles, counting prices in his head. Money was tight, but the locals' kindness had kept him afloat.
Footsteps sounded from the next aisle over. Could've been the clerk, but something about the rhythm made Sakura glance up.
That's when he saw it — a familiar mop of blonde hair.
Mikey.
For a second, he couldn't breathe.
Why was he here?
He thought about walking over, but the idea of how awkward it might be stopped him. They'd built different lives now.
Then Mikey looked up. Their eyes met.
And all Sakura saw were dead eyes.
Was it really him — the Mikey he'd once known?
It hadn't been that long. Had it?
Mikey didn't say anything that night.
He just gave a small nod, paid for whatever he was buying, and walked out into the quiet streets, boots echoing on the asphalt.
Sakura stayed where he was, one hand gripping the basket a little too tight.
He wanted to say something — anything — but his throat locked up.
When he finally made it to the counter, the worker gave him a strange look, like they could sense the tension that had just passed through. Sakura mumbled a thanks, paid, and left.
Sakura stood under the store's awning for a while, staring at the spot where Mikey had been. The glow from the streetlights caught the wet patches of asphalt, making the dark corners of the alley seem sharper, more jagged.
It didn't make sense. Mikey showing up here, looking like that. Those empty eyes — like he was alive but not really there.
He shook the thought off and headed home. There wasn't anything he could do tonight.
It wasn't long before morning came.
The streets were quieter than usual. Sakura walked past the usual shops. The air smelled faintly of exhaust and fried food. Something felt off.
He didn't have to wait long.
Down the alley near the old vending machines, he saw them. Three guys on the ground, trying to push themselves up. And standing over them, the same mop of blonde hair.
Mikey.
He was hitting them, not just punching, but really hitting. Sakura froze. Not fear. Just... disbelief.
That wasn't Mikey.
He wanted to turn back. Walk away. Let it be someone else's problem. But he couldn't.
"You going to stop?" Sakura called, voice low.
Mikey didn't flinch. Didn't even look at him at first. Then he glanced sideways, just enough to see him. "And you are?"
Sakura stepped forward. "You're going too far."
Mikey laughed. Short. No warmth. "They deserved it."
"They've learnt their lesson," Sakura said. "This isn't Toman. Stop."
Something in Mikey's eyes shifted. Not anger. Not exactly. But something hard. Empty. "You think I care? Toman is gone."
Sakura's jaw tightened. "Well I do care."
For a long moment, they just stared at each other.
Then Mikey moved. Fast. Too fast for almost anyone to react.
Sakura barely caught the first swing. He grabbed Mikey's foot, shoved him back. Mikey didn't resist. He didn't fight him off. But he didn't stop either.
"Stop holding back," Mikey said, voice flat.
"I can't," Sakura said. "Not like this. Not you."
And that was it.
The next attacks weren't clean. Sakura blocked, ducked, pushed back — all of it instinct. Mikey adjusted like he expected it, like he remembered it.
Neither of them had a plan. But in a fight like this, who needed to.
When they finally stopped, both were breathing heavy. Mikey's hoodie was discarded to the side. Sakura's knuckles stung.
Mikey smirked, small and tired. "You haven't changed."
Sakura shook his head. "And you've gone off the rails."
Mikey didn't answer. Just looked at the street, at the shops, at the sky. And for a second, he looked almost... small.
Then he turned and walked off. Giving a final wave.
Sakura stayed, hands clenched, heart still hammering.
At least, for now, he told Mikey what he wanted to say.
The conversation of one's brawl.
Getting up, he continued his way to school.
Furin better not find out about this.