Chapter Text
Sakura was in a sour mood, and he knew it was somewhat ridiculous of him to be in one. The day had been fine, classes were boring as usual, they had gotten back grades for a test, and he had scored better, not amazing, but better than before. Nirei had been excited to see the improvement, and even Suo complimented him in his own Suo-way. Sakura's sourness stemmed mostly from the fact that not only was he not on patrol after school today, but instead of being able to go home or go to Pothos, he, Suo, and Nirei were called to the roof.
None of the other grade captains had been called, so it wasn't an official meeting, and he couldn't put his finger on why they were being called. His only assumption was that it had something to do with everything that had gone down with Suo— and a quick glance to his vice-captain told him he was thinking the same thing. Truthfully, he thought they had cleared that all up. Conversations, of sorts, were had, and for the most part, everything was fixed.
So what did Umemiya need them for?
The three were quiet as they walked, and the closer they got to the roof, the worse Nirei's anxiety seemed to get, his hands trembling so badly he couldn't hold his notebook. Sakura pushed the roof door open, nearly blinding himself with the sun as he stepped onto the roof, Suo and Nirei behind him.
Umemiya was there, which was a given, but the other Kings were present as well. Tsubakino, Hiragi, Momose, Mizuki, and all their seconds. Sakura's steps faltered for a fraction of a second as he surveyed the area, before his gaze landed on an unfamiliar figure.
She wasn't a student, that much was obvious, and she wasn't a teenager either. She looked a bit older than them, probably around Kiryuu's sister's age if he had to guess. She was seated across from Umemiya, hunched over nervously. He couldn't see much of her— just that she had long, straight black hair, and she looked almost fancy with the way she dressed. Maybe she was someone from town who needed help? But why bring Sakura specifically?
"Ah, Sakura," Umemiya spoke first, and his declaration had the others turning towards him, the strange woman as well.
She and Sakura made eye contact, and he felt his back stiffen. She looked, well, emotional for lack of better words. Her nose was red, like she had been crying, and her eyes— her eyes were an almost golden shade of brown, not unlike his left eye. Umemiya stood up, and the three first years stepped closer.
"Sakura, why not come take a seat?"
"I'm fine standin'," He shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding towards the woman, "Whose this?"
Umemiya rubbed the back of his neck, and only then did Sakura realize how tense all of the third years looked. Hiragi, while always looking tense, seemed on edge in a different way than normal. Sakura's gaze flickered back to the woman, whose hands were ringing in her lap, a tissue all but shredded between her fingers.
"This is…" Umemiya trailed off, and for once, their fearless leader looked unsure, not even confident in his words.
The woman took it upon herself to stand up. The first thing that hit Sakura was that she was short, standing roughly at the same height as Nirei. She moved to take a step forward, but seemed to hesitate as she did so, and it didn't go unnoticed that Tsubakino and Umemiya moved to match her.
"Hello. Um, I'm," Her voice was quiet, and she was trembling where she was standing, and she looked so nervous— so vulnerable— that it was making Sakura almost uncomfortable, "I'm Sakura Reika. I'm, uh, I'm your Aunt."
Aunt.
His Aunt.
What?
Sakura didn't have a response; it felt like he was barely processing what was being said to him. She was his Aunt. He didn't have any Aunts or Uncles— well, he guesses that's not true. He never knew if he had Aunts or Uncles; the only knowledge he had had of his biological family was that his mother died giving birth to him, and his father considered Sakura to be a murderer.
"She was telling us how she came to find you here," Umemiya spoke, his voice smooth and calm, moving a few steps closer to the three first years. Sakura wouldn't admit it out loud, but Umemiya moving to stand closer made him feel guarded and protected. He shoved those thoughts away— there was a bigger thing to focus on.
"I don't have any Aunts."
She— Sakura- Reika?— winced at his statement, but it didn't seem like she had much to argue with. Her gaze drifted down, and she looked rather pitiful. It made his stomach roll, and he had to look away from her, choosing to focus on some plants nearby. Her voice was just as small as it was before as she spoke.
"I'm not surprised, really, that you don't know about me. Uh, to be fair, I've only recently learned you were alive."
That caught him by surprise, and he found himself jerking his head back to look at her. She hadn't looked up as she spoke, but he could tell her statement caught the attention of Nirei and Suo as well. The others' expressions hadn't changed much.
"Why don't you three come sit down?" Umemiya motioned to the other side of the table, across from Reika and next to him, "Let's hear her out, okay?"
Sakura didn't respond, but his feet moved without giving them thought, either. Suo and Nirei were behind him, and the three sat down, Umemiya waiting a moment before standing behind Sakura. He was close enough that Sakura could feel his presence, but he refrained from touching him. That was good— Sakura doesn't know how he'd respond to physical touch at the moment. Reika sat down too, her movements unsure. The remaining Furin members remained standing.
"How are you my Aunt?"
"Oh, your mother's my older sister." At least she wasn't related to his father. He gave her a quick glance over— he didn't know his mother's age when he was born, but if this lady looked barely older than him, it made the situation rather questionable.
Reika looked more unsure as she spoke, and for a moment, no one talked. What was to be said? Did Sakura lead the conversation with questions? Did Reika start her story? Did he even believe her? What proof did she have that she was his Aunt? Why was she just finding him now? What did she mean by having just learned he was alive?
"Why not start over with what you were telling us?" Umemiya supplied from behind Sakura, and Reika looked more at ease with some sense of direction.
She nodded, licking her lips nervously, hands still twisting around in her lap. "Uh, as I said, my name's Sakura Reika. Haru-Sakura's mother, Hikari, was my older sister. I was… six, I believe, when Sakura was born, and Kurosawa told my parents that- that he had died along with Hikari from birth complications."
Kurosawa. That was his father. His father had told them he died too? He had been so ashamed of Sakura from the beginning that he lied about what had happened. And then years later, when Sakura had confronted him, he had stood there and called his own son a murderer. He could feel his face twisting at her words, the reminder of his father— paired with the new information— had his blood boiling in his veins.
"I only found out about a year ago that Sakura was still alive. I— my parents knew, apparently. I wasn't supposed to overhear them, but I did, and I confronted them about it later. We got into a big fight about it, and they told me not to meddle or put myself into the situation, but- but he's Hikari's son. I couldn't not do anything," She sounded choked up as she spoke, and for a split second, she had looked up, eyes studying Sakura's face before it flitted back down to the table. "I had to try and track him down without my parents knowing, and I ended up in towns he used to be in, I think. Before I ended up here."
Her story seemed so lackluster, and Sakura wasn't sure if he believed her or not. On one hand, he wanted to; some part of him ached to believe her, to know that some blood family had learned about him and came all this way to even just meet him. On the other hand, what if this was all a lie? Or better yet, it wasn't a lie, but a ruse to hurt him more.
"If you don't mind my asking," Suo spoke, voice firm and carrying that faux charisma he had mastered, "I am curious as to your age. You seem not much older than we are."
Reika glanced up, glancing over to Suo almost curiously. She nodded at his statement, "I'm twenty-one. I know that us being so close in age is… odd. My parents are obsessed with their image and how they're perceived by my hometown. When Hikari got older, she started being more rebellious; she'd dye her hair, she got some piercings, and I think she even got a tattoo. Apparently, instead of trying to tame their wild daughter, they decided to just have another kid." Reika shrugged, one hand moving to rub at her arm, "I think they wanted a perfect replacement child of sorts."
Sakura knew next to nothing about his mother. Until his confrontation with his father, he hadn't even known her name. Hikari, her name had been Hikari. It had hurt in a weird way to learn that they shared the same initials. Now here was someone else, holding more information about his mother. It felt like there was a carrot on a stick, dangling in front of him. He swallowed, unsure if he could bring himself to speak yet.
"But- but why track Sakura down now?" Nirei questioned next, and Sakura was beginning to understand why Umemiya had requested his vice-captain's tag-along. Sakura doesn't know how he'd handle all of this by himself. He doesn't think he'd be able to.
"Well, I had been looking since I learned he was alive, but I only just recently learned about Makochi and Furin. It had felt like a long shot when I got here, but- but it wasn't."
Nirei looked like he wanted to say something else, ask another question, and pick her apart, gathering as much information as he could. But Sakura found himself talking, finding his voice.
"What was she like?"
He was quieter than he had wanted to be, but his question carried a heavy weight. Nirei's mouth slammed shut with a click, and he could feel Suo stiffen beside him. He didn't want to turn and see how everyone else was looking, and he watched as Reika's head snapped to him fully, eyes widening a fraction.
"She- she was an amazing person." The melancholy look that had been on her face diminished, and she smiled, "She passed away when I was only six, and our parents hated it when she'd come over, so my memories of her aren't the strongest. But she always stopped by to see me. She was kind, and she used to bake these little cakes with me that tasted amazing. She taught me how to make flower crowns with wild flowers, and there was one time where our parents refused to show up for a parent-teacher conference, so she came instead. I don't really remember it too well, but she got into an argument with my teacher, and we went out for ice cream after."
Sakura's knowledge of how a mother should be had stemmed from the media, from the mouths of kids he had gone to school with. From snippits of TV shows, and hushed stories he had heard. He knew mothers were supposed to be protective and loving, and despite never meeting his own mother, Reika's stories felt right.
Never mind that he didn't have the concept to know if that was truly accurate, but the image fit in his mind. A faceless woman with dyed hair and piercings, arguing with a teacher before scooping a small child up into her arms and storming out. Someone who was as stubborn as she was protective, someone who was loud as she was loving.
Someone who would have taken one look at a baby with split hair and mismatched eyes and loved him anyway.
He felt his throat tighten, unable to stop the whirlwind of emotions surging through him. He cast his gaze down onto the table, trying to focus his eyes to study the grains of wood. It was silent once more, and every instinct in Sakura was telling him to run away, to flee like he used to do.
"I, uh, I have pictures. Of her. If you want to look at them. As well as a copy of her birth certificate, and mine as well. I don't have one for Har-Sakura. But I figured that it'd be hard to believe, and I wanted to have proof, I suppose." She moved as she spoke, bending to pick up a bag at her feet and rummaging through it with trembling hands, grasping at papers in there.
She laid them out on the table, and though Sakura didn't move, he could sense that the others had stepped closer to look. The first thing he directed his attention to was one of two birth certificates, and his eyes scanned the information before glancing at the other one.
Sakura Hikari. 1988/3/21. Child of Sakura Katsuhiko and Sakura Kaori.
Sakura Reika. 2003/7/7. Child of Sakura Katushiko and Sakura Kaori.
He hadn't really gathered when he had met his father, that his family name had belonged to his mother as opposed to his father. He knew they hadn't shared a name, something that never upset Sakura, not really, but he had assumed 'Sakura' had been given to him half-heartedly. His gaze lingered on the familiar kanji, knowing full well he was avoiding looking at the pictures that had been laid out.
Finally, he forced his attention over, feeling distant from the images before him. There weren't many, but the ones that were all over the place. The first one he focused on showed a girl a few years younger than him; she was clad in a school uniform, a large smile on her face. She had black hair, the cut falling right to her jaw, and there were colorful clips holding her bangs back from her face. He felt himself get stuck staring at her smile— she looked so happy and carefree.
The second one, she appeared close to his age, and he noticed first that her hair was different. It was a bit longer, down to her shoulders, but that wasn't what stood out. Her hair was dyed perfectly down the middle, one side a dark green, and the other side a deep blue. She wasn't looking at the camera, but instead was focused on a bundle of pink blankets in her arms, and it took Sakura a second to process that she was holding a baby. She was too young to be a mother in that picture, so it was safe to assume the baby there was Reika.
The third picture was harder for him to look at. She was older once more, clearly an adult, and she was pregnant. Her belly was small, but still round enough to know there was a baby in there. A faraway thought had him realizing the baby in her belly had been him. She was grinning at the camera, and in her arms was a young child, Reika, who was smiling the same way. Hikari's— his mother's— hair was dyed once more, a bright pink, and her black roots were shining through. His focus was transfixed on her belly, and he found himself unable to continue to look at the pictures, so he looked away.
His vision was blurry, and he realized, with a start, that he had begun tearing up.
"Oh my," Tsubaki's voice was soft as he spoke, "You look just like your mother, Sakura."
You look just like your mother.
You killed your mother.
Both sentences bounced around his head, almost fighting for his attention. He could feel a dull headache beginning to form, and he couldn't help but grimace. He had spent so long hating the way he looked, being taught and told that he was a freak of nature, a demon that killed his mother. His mother, a woman who had known nothing about, a blank figure that taunted him in his nightmares. Sakura glanced back at the photos— could a woman who smiled that much be as cruel as his dreams made her to be?
His chest hurt.
"I'm sorry," Reika's voice was bordering on panicked, eyes locked into the miserable look that had crossed Sakura's face, "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just thought— well, I thought that you'd want to see pictures— and I didn't know how else to show that—"
"It's fine," Sakura was quick to cut her off, and she fell silent immediately.
She seemed to shrink in on herself a lot, as if making herself appear smaller than she already was. It reminded him of Nirei when they first met, it reminded him of how he used to look when he was a kid. There was a flicker of something unpleasant that coursed through him— guilt.
"I said it's fine," He repeated, voice quieter.
He didn't know how to handle this situation. Didn't know how to handle the sudden appearance of an Aunt in his life. He hated that uncertainty, hated that some stranger came to his school and turned his entire life upside down. After a beat of silence, he looked back at her, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Why are you here?" He watched her stiffen, the fidgeting of her hands increasing, "You said you were searching for me, and you tracked me down all the way here, brought all this stuff. So why?"
He was terrified of what the answer might be, and for the next few moments, he didn't get one. She sat silently, her gaze dropping to her lap. Reika seemed nervous for a different reason, and the tense atmosphere on the roof shifted. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before speaking, her voice soft and—
"I want you to come live with me."
—worst of all, sincere.