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Sakura Haruka didn’t think he was someone who deserved love.
All his life, he’d only known how it felt to be feared, shunned, or avoided. Friendship, affection, and kindness had always felt like things meant for someone else.
That’s why Furin terrified him.
Everyone there was so friendly. Too friendly.
But the one who scared him the most—Suo Hayato.
His vice captain. Too calm, too clever, too good at getting under his skin. Suo always had a comment, a glance, a teasing remark that left Sakura annoyed... and confused. Because deep down, he felt something. Something he didn’t want to name.
So he buried it.
He thought ignoring it would be enough. That if he stayed quiet, the feelings would stay quiet too.
The universe never did seem to be on Sakura’s side though.
It started when Sakura woke up from a nap and noticed that he was practically engulfed in his blanket. His limbs felt all wrong and the world was much smaller. When he shifted to sit up, his limbs moved wrong—stubbier, lighter, twitchier. He tried again, awkwardly pushing himself upright.
And that’s when he saw it.
A paw.
White. Furred. Definitely not a hand.
“What the hell?!” he tried to shout, but it came out as a distressed meow.
Sakura rubbed his eyes, believing that his half-asleep state was deceiving him. But instead of fingers, soft pads brushed against his face. His heart dropped. Slowly, he opened one eye. Then the other.
Still a paw. Still fur. Still not a dream.
He let out a shaky breath, except it came out as a quiet, confused mrrp.
Scrambling, he tumbled out of bed and made a beeline for his phone and looked at the reflection. The reflection stared back.
Big ears. Big eyes. Whiskers. Fur.
A cat.
After class, Suo, Nirei, and Kiryu strolled down the familiar streets of Makochi. The afternoon sun cast long shadows, and the air carried the faint smell of fresh rain from the night before.
Nirei and Kiryu talked softly about their plans for the weekend.
“I’m thinking of trying that new ramen place near the station,” Kiryu said.
Nirei nodded eagerly. “I heard their broth is really rich, and they’ve got some good toppings too.”
Suo walked beside them, hands slipped into his pockets, listening quietly but not joining the conversation. He preferred observing—the way the wind rustled the leaves, the soft hum of the street settling into evening.
They turned down a narrow alleyway that served as a shortcut, the buildings pressing in tighter here. Just as they rounded the corner, a flash of white and black fur caught their attention.
A small cat darted out from between the buildings and froze a few feet ahead, its body tense but eyes wide and curious.
Nirei slowed, crouching down. “Hi there, little guy.”
The cat blinked slowly, as if trying to figure out whether they were friend or foe.
Suo stepped forward, his gaze narrowing as he studied the creature. “That cat... it looks a lot like Sakura-kun.”
The cat’s fur was a clear split of black and white patches, the pattern oddly similar to Sakura’s hair. But what really caught their attention were the eyes, one blue and one yellow, exactly like Sakura’s heterochromia.
Suo tilted his head slightly and spoke in a soft voice, “Come here, kitty.”
For a moment, the cat hesitated, but something in Suo’s tone drew it closer. It padded forward cautiously.
Suo reached out a hand and scratched gently under the cat’s chin. “You’re cute,” he murmured quietly. He picks it up, cradling it in his arms.
Kiryu smiled and pulled out his phone. With a quick snap, he took a picture. “We’ll have to show Sakura-chan tomorrow. He’s going to lose it.”
The cat flicked its tail, then slipped silently back down the alley, disappearing into the shadows.
Suo stood still, watching it go, a thoughtful look settling on his face. There was something about the way the cat moved, the way it looked at him... it felt strangely familiar.
Back in human form, Sakura sat stiffly at his desk, pretending to read through his notes as if he hadn’t spent the entire night panicking.
Kiryu slid into his seat beside him, grinning. “Sakura-chan. You have to see this.”
He pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward him. “Look at this cat we ran into yesterday. Tell me this isn’t your twin.”
Sakura blinked. On the screen was a photo of him, in cat form, tucked comfortably in Suo’s arms, eyes half-lidded.
His stomach flipped.
“I mean.. I guess?” he said, trying to play it off. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
Nirei leaned over. “It’s totally you! Same grumpy face.”
Suo, sitting just a few feet away, glanced over. “It’s the eyes, right?” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It’s cute.”
Sakura could feel his entire face heat up. He gripped the edge of his desk. Don’t combust. Don’t combust. Stay normal.
He managed a vague nod and turned back to his desk, pretending to focus.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Suo said that.
And worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it felt to be in his arms.
The rest of the day dragged. Sakura barely heard a word in class. His mind kept circling back to the photo—that photo—of him curled up in Suo’s arms like some house pet. His ears still burned every time he remembered Suo calling him cute.
When the final bell rang, Sakura walked home like always. He dropped his bag in the corner of his room and sat on the edge of his bed, eyes flicking to the clock.
3:59 p.m.
He didn’t know why, but he didn’t move. Just waited.
Right on time, the feeling returned. His limbs growing light, his balance shifting, the floor suddenly closer. Within moments, he was a cat again.
Sakura stood there in stunned silence for a few seconds, then let out a quiet sigh. He already knew sitting in his room for the next hour wasn’t an option. Not with the nervous energy pulsing under his fur.
He slipped out his window and padded into the streets. This time, he didn’t wander aimlessly, his paws took him straight to the park.
And there he was, Suo.
Sakura hesitated behind a bush, tail flicking. He should’ve left. Really, he should’ve.
But he didn’t.
He stepped out quietly, paws brushing over gravel until he was standing right in front of him.
Suo opened his eye at the sound.
“…There you are,” he said, lips twitching into a faint smile. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”
Sakura stared up at him.
“You’re kind of bold for a stray, huh?” Suo said softly, reaching out.
Sakura stepped forward, letting Suo scratch behind his ears again. The gesture was gentle, unhurried. Warm.
Suo sat back on the bench, and to Sakura’s surprise, patted the spot beside him.
After a moment of awkward climbing, Sakura settled next to him, curled up with his tail tucked around his body.
Neither of them said anything. Or rather, Suo didn’t speak, and Sakura… couldn’t. But it didn’t feel like silence either.
Suo leaned back, watching the clouds shift overhead. “I’ve been thinking too much lately,” he said. “I don’t like it.”
Sakura glanced up.
“There’s someone,” Suo continued, voice low, like he wasn’t really planning to say this out loud. “And he’s… difficult. Loud. Proud. Kind of reckless. But I think I’ve gotten used to him being around.”
Sakura’s ears perked.
“I dunno.” Suo chuckled softly. “It’s probably nothing.”
Sakura scooted slightly closer. He didn’t know if it was smart, or if he was reading too much into it, but hearing Suo talk like that, even if it wasn’t to him, made something ache in his chest.
Time passed quietly.
Eventually, Suo glanced at the time on his phone and sighed. “Looks like it’s time for me to go. Patrol starts in ten.”
He stood up and brushed off his pants. “Stay out of trouble, alright?”
He gave the cat one last look, almost thoughtful, before heading off down the path, the sunlight fading behind him.
Sakura stayed there for a while, curled up where Suo had left him.
Then, slowly, he got up and began making his way home.
As he climbed back into his room and the clock ticked toward five, the change began again.
Fur faded. Paws stretched into hands. And Sakura sat there in silence, human again, heart pounding.
Every day at four o’clock, the change came.
And every day, Sakura found himself walking the same route to the park.
He told himself it was coincidence at first. That he was just killing time. But it became harder to lie about it when he realized he was always heading to the exact spot Suo liked to sit.
And every day, Suo was there.
Sometimes with a drink, sometimes with earbuds in, sometimes just watching the sky. He never said much, but he always greeted the cat warmly.
“You’re really making this a habit,” he said one day, reaching down to scratch behind Sakura’s ears. “What, no owner?”
Sakura nuzzled his hand, settling beside him like he always did.
At first, it was just nice to be near him. But as the days passed, Sakura started noticing things he hadn’t before.
How Suo’s voice softened when he talked to the cat.
How he rambled just a little more than usual.
How his shoulders relaxed the moment he sat down.
He let his guard down.
And Sakura liked that side of him.
More than he wanted to admit.
It scared him.
By the sixth or seventh day, Sakura had stopped pretending this was just a fluke. He no longer questioned why his paws took him back to that same park bench.
To him.
The excuse that he was “just wasting time” stopped working around day four.
Suo was already there, like always.
Sakura padded over quietly. Suo looked down and smiled, not surprised anymore.
“Back again?” he said, his voice low and casual.
He scooted slightly, making space on the bench as if he expected Sakura to sit properly.
Sakura jumped up, circled once, and curled up beside him.
It was peaceful. The kind of calm that wasn’t empty, it just didn’t demand anything. It was nice.
That’s what started to get to Sakura.
At school, Suo was sharp, composed, always a little unreadable. The vice-captain of Furin, measured, dependable, always in control. But here, every day at four, he dropped all of that without even realizing.
Sometimes he muttered about things, nothing deep. Just quiet pieces of his life.
No one else got to hear these things.
Not like this.
Sakura told himself it didn’t mean anything. That it wasn’t special. Suo was just rambling because no one could talk back.
But the truth was, Sakura liked it. Too much.
He liked how Suo's voice softened when he spoke without thinking. He liked the rare, unguarded smiles. The small chuckles under his breath.
Suo leaned forward, humming thoughtfully. “Do you ever think people act different depending on who they’re with?”
Sakura tilted his head.
Suo didn’t look at him. “Like… you don’t notice it at first. But then someone makes you talk more, or less. Makes you let your guard down without meaning to.”
He let out a quiet breath, more of an exhale than a sigh. “I think everyone has a version of themselves that only shows up around certain people.”
Sakura blinked slowly.
He’d never heard Suo talk like this—not at school, not around the others. Not even during patrols. This version of him was gentler. Softer around the edges.
The kind of softness Sakura had never been allowed.
The kind of softness he never thought someone like him could bring out in someone else.
It stirred something strange in his chest. Something warm and unwelcome.
Sakura’s thoughts began to loop.
Why do you want him to understand you?
Why do you wait here every day?
Why does your chest hurt when he smiles?
Why do you want him to touch you more?
Why do you wish to be closer with him?
Suo wasn't saying anything special. He wasn’t trying to be deep. He was just being himself.
And Sakura couldn’t look away.
He liked seeing him like this.
No…
He wanted to see him like this every day.
The thought settled in slowly but deeply, like a drop of ink bleeding through paper.
Sakura liked Suo.
It was him. It had always been him.
Suo’s voice. His dry humor. The way his eyes softened when he thought no one was watching. The way he always had something thoughtful to say, not loud, not dramatic, just enough to make Sakura pause and think about it later when he was alone.
Sakura stared at the ground, tail curling around his paws.
He liked him.
And not in a passing way. Not in the flustered, middle-school crush kind of way either.
It was deeper than that. Realer than that.
He wanted to be near Suo.
Wanted to hear his voice.
Wanted Suo to know it was him all along, sitting beside him every afternoon.
The thought made his chest squeeze, tight and breathless.
The thought slammed into him like cold water.
No.
No, no, no.
He didn’t do feelings.
He didn’t let people in.
He didn’t want to need someone like this.
It was too much.
Too close.
Too real.
Too dangerous.
He couldn’t handle it.
He bolted up, claws scratching against the bench as he jumped down.
“Hey—” Suo sat up straight, surprised. “Leaving already?”
Sakura didn’t look back. He ran.
All the way home.
Up the side wall.
Through his window.
Straight into the bed.
He liked Suo Hayato.
And he had no idea what to do about it.
The next morning, Sakura tried to act normal.
He walked into class, sat in his usual seat, gave Nirei a small nod. Just like always.
But his eyes flicked toward Suo the second he walked in.
Suo looked the same, calm, composed, unreadable. He greeted everyone with a smile, slid into his seat, and pulled out his pen without a word.
Just like always.
But Sakura’s chest tightened anyway.
He remembered Suo’s voice from the park yesterday, soft and thoughtful, talking about people changing depending on who they’re around.
He remembered the way Suo scratched behind his ears without thinking.
The way his presence felt steady—safe.
Now, sitting just a few feet away, Sakura felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He turned his head away and tried to focus.
It kept happening.
Every time Suo walked near, Sakura’s pulse picked up.
Every time he spoke, Sakura’s throat went dry.
Every glance, every small gesture, every quiet smile— it all hurt.
It was like something in his chest pulled tight whenever Suo was around.
Sakura tried to ignore it. The weird flutter in his chest, the warmth that lingered even hours after their silent park meetings. He didn’t know what to do with it.
So he pulled away.
At school, when Suo spoke to him, he kept it short.
He avoided eye contact, didn’t sit next to him, made excuses to walk a different route home.
Suo noticed. Of course he did.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked confused. His eyes would linger longer, brow faintly furrowed like he couldn’t figure out what he did wrong.
Then came the silences.
The ones that stretched between them even when they sat a few feet apart.
Suo started keeping his distance too, but not out of coldness. It was quieter than that. Sadder.
He didn’t push. Didn’t confront him.
Just… waited.
It felt worse than if he’d gotten mad.
Sakura told himself it was for the best.
That Suo would never like him back.
That someone like Suo— calm, reliable, well-liked, could never fall for someone like him.
He was cold. Abrasive. A mess of sharp edges and walls.
So he convinced himself:
It’s better this way.
Even if it hurt.
Even if Suo looked at him like he was waiting for something that would never come.
The transformation hit at 4:00 sharp, like it always did. Sakura didn’t hesitate this time. He was already halfway out the window before his paws had even fully formed.
He told himself it was habit. Routine.
The easiest way to kill an hour.
But really, he just needed to see him.
Even if Suo didn’t know it was him. Even if Suo barely looked at him anymore during the day. Even if Sakura was the one who caused that.
Suo was already there.
He sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his posture heavier. He wasn’t sipping tea or checking his phone. Just… staring at the ground.
Sakura approached quietly, paws soft against the pavement. He stopped a few steps away, watching.
“…Hey,” Suo said, voice low. “Figured you’d show up.”
His voice was quiet. Not surprised. Not annoyed.
Just… tired.
Sakura jumped up onto the bench but didn’t sit as close as usual. He curled up near the edge.
Suo didn’t pet him right away. He just sat there, staring ahead.
Then, finally, he spoke.
“Someone’s been avoiding me lately.”
Sakura didn’t move.
“I don’t know what I did. Or if I did anything at all.”He let out a short breath. “It’s like one day we were fine, and the next… nothing. He just stopped talking to me.”
There was no anger in his voice. Just quiet disappointment.
Sakura stared at the ground.
Then Suo glanced over at him.
“…You’re lucky,” he muttered, reaching out to scratch lightly behind Sakura’s ear. “You don’t have to think about things like this.”
Sakura froze.
The guilt hit harder than he expected.
Because he wasn’t just some random cat.
He was the person Suo was talking about.
And all he’d done was run.
Sakura ran home the moment the hour neared its end.
He darted through backstreets, over fences, up the side wall of his house, through the window—
Landed hard on the floor of his bedroom.
4:59.
He crouched there, heart pounding. Waiting.
5:00.
Any second now. The shift back. The stretch of limbs. The dull heat in his chest.
Any second.
He waited.
5:01.
Nothing.
5:02.
Still nothing.
His ears flattened. He stood, took a step, and sat back down again, as if resetting his body might somehow help.
He shut his eyes, concentrating, willing the change to come.
Nothing happened.
No flicker of warmth.
No strange pulling sensation.
No return to human.
5:10.
Panic started to settle in, low and slow.
He stood in front of the mirror on his closet door, lifting a paw and staring at his reflection.
Same mismatched eyes. Same split black and white fur. Same tail flicking behind him like it had a mind of its own.
He pawed at his face like it might fall away. It didn’t.
“Come on…” he whispered, but it came out as a faint mewl.
He tried to breathe. In, out.
Did cats hyperventilate? Was he hyperventilating?
It had always been an hour.
Just one hour.
So why now?
Why today?
Three days passed. And Sakura Haruka didn’t show up at school.
At first, no one thought much of it. He wasn’t exactly the type to warn anyone if he was feeling sick or taking a day off.
But by the second day, Nirei had started asking around.
“Have you guys seen Sakura-san?” he asked, frowning as he scanned the classroom. “He didn’t even message the group chat.”
Kiryu looked mildly concerned. “Did he catch something? He never misses patrol.”
“He’s not responding to texts either,” Nirei added, holding up his phone.
Suo didn’t say anything at first.
He just stared at the empty seat.
Sakura curled up in his bed. He hadn’t moved from the small pile of shirts in two hours.
Everything ached.
His body, from sleeping in awkward positions.
His head, from overthinking.
His heart, from the quiet loneliness that stretched longer and longer.
Three days.
He hadn’t turned back in three whole days.
His phone was dead.
His schoolbag sat untouched.
No one knew where he was.
Meanwhile, Suo sat on the edge of the park bench alone. The cat hadn’t shown up either.
He glanced around, brows drawn together. For once, he looked unsettled.
First Sakura. Now the stray.
Both gone without a trace.
He reached for his phone, stared at the screen for a while, then typed a message.
[To: Haruka Sakura]
Are you okay?
Where are you?
...Say something.
He stared at it. Then deleted the last line.
Sent it.
The screen stayed silent. No reply. No read.
Suo locked his phone and leaned forward, resting his head in his hand.
Something was wrong.
And he was starting to hate that he didn’t know what.
Suo tried to wait it out.
Tried to trust that Sakura would come back when he felt like it.
But four days in, something cracked. He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t pretend he wasn’t checking his phone every five minutes.
Couldn’t stop thinking about that empty seat.
After class, he didn’t bother telling anyone.
He just grabbed his jacket and left.
He checked the usual spots first.
The school gate.
The back alley near the convenience store.
The abandoned roof they’d used for training once.
Nothing.
He walked farther than he planned to.
His legs moved on instinct. Past the shopping street. Down the quiet side roads. Toward the edge of the residential blocks.
The sky was starting to turn gray.
Maybe this was stupid, he thought.
But his feet didn’t stop.
Then—just past the fence line behind a small apartment complex—he saw it.
A flicker of movement.
A blur of black and white fur, crouched near the base of a bush.
Suo froze.
It looked like the same cat.
That cat.
The one who stopped showing up the same day Sakura disappeared.
“…You,” he said quietly, stepping closer.
The cat flinched.
Its fur was messy now, and it looked smaller somehow. Weaker. Its paws were muddy, and its ears were folded slightly back.
But the eyes, those same mismatched eyes, looked straight at him.
Suo crouched down slowly. “Where have you been?”
The cat didn’t move.
His voice softened. “You look like hell.”
The cat just blinked slowly, tail twitching. Suo stared at him for a long moment.
Then he let out a quiet breath. “I’ve been looking for someone,” he said. “He’s important to me. But I think I messed something up.”
He sat down beside the bush, not caring about the dirt.
“I’m not sure what I did.”
Sakura stayed still, ears low.
“I keep thinking, maybe I should’ve said something,” He looked over at the cat again. “You don’t get it. You’re just a cat.”
He said it without venom. Almost with relief.
But his voice cracked a little. “…But it feels like you’re the only one still listening.”
Sakura’s chest ached. Not from cold. Not from fear.
From guilt.
He stepped forward, slowly, and bumped his head against Suo’s knee.
Suo blinked, startled.
Then reached down to gently pet his back.
“…You really are weird,” he said softly.
But he didn’t move away.
He let the silence settle around them, hand resting lightly on Sakura’s fur.
And for the first time in days, Sakura felt warmth again.
Sakura didn’t know how long they sat there. Time didn’t move the same way when you were stuck in a body that wasn’t yours. Everything was smaller. Quieter. Colder.
But Suo’s presence warmed the air around him. He hadn’t left.
Even when the sky darkened and the streetlights flickered on, Suo stayed seated beside him, occasionally running a hand down his fur.
“You remind me of him sometimes,” he said quietly. “That sounds dumb, I know.”
Sakura looked up.
Suo wasn’t smiling. He looked tired. His eyes were distant, but not cold.
“I guess I just miss him.” A pause. “Even if he didn’t feel the same way.”
Sakura froze.
He stared at Suo like his heartbeat could reach through the silence and say what his mouth couldn’t.
But nothing came out.
He pressed closer, curling up beside Suo’s side, paws against his thigh. Suo glanced down and chuckled softly.
Then Suo shifted.
He stood up, brushing off his pants. “I should probably head home,” he muttered.
Sakura’s ears perked up instantly.
No. No, not yet.
Suo reached down to pick up his bag.
Sakura stood, panic rising fast in his chest. He stepped forward, bumping his head into Suo’s shin.
Suo blinked down. “Hm?”
Sakura meowed. Once. Short. Desperate. Then again, louder.
He pawed at Suo’s pant leg. Clawed at it, even. His tail was puffed out, his whole body trembling.
Suo looked confused. “What’s wrong? You want food?”
Sakura stepped in front of him, blocking his way. His heart was racing.
Don’t go.
He couldn’t say it.
Couldn’t scream it.
But he needed him to understand.
Suo hesitated.
“Are you—”
He didn’t get to finish.
Because in the next second, the air around them pulsed, like something broke.
Sakura cried out, but it wasn’t a meow this time. It was a sharp gasp.
And within seconds, a figure appeared on the sidewalk.
Suo’s eye widened, shock evident on his face. “Sakura-kun?”
Sakura didn’t move.
Suo stepped closer. “Is that… you?”
Still nothing.
Then, finally—
“…Yeah.”
Suo stared at him. “It was you? The cat?”
Sakura didn’t answer. He kept his head down.
“…How long?”
“Ten days.”
Suo exhaled slowly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I couldn’t,” Sakura muttered. “I tried. I thought it would wear off. And then it didn’t.”
They both stood there in silence.
Suo didn’t ask questions right away. He didn’t press or panic or demand answers.
He just slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around Sakura’s shoulders.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s get you home.”
Sakura nodded, weak but steady.
They walked in silence. Sakura’s steps were uneven, his balance a little shaky after days of being on four legs. But Suo stayed close, never rushing ahead.
The air between them was heavy, but not awkward. Just full of things left unsaid.
They reached Sakura’s place. Suo hesitated as Sakura opened the door.
“…You’ll be okay now?” he asked.
Sakura glanced back, eyes soft. “Yeah.”
But Suo didn’t move.
Instead, after a long pause, he said, “About the things I’ve said...”
His voice was quiet. Careful.
Sakura’s chest tightened.
Suo scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly to the side. “I said some things. Stuff I didn’t mean for anyone to hear.”
Sakura didn’t speak.
“I just… I thought I was talking to a cat,” Suo added, forcing out a small laugh. “I wasn’t trying to dump all that on you.”
“You weren’t,” Sakura said quietly.
Suo blinked. “Still. I said I missed someone. That I didn’t think he liked me back.” He looked at Sakura now. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
Sakura stared at him for a second, then said, “But I did.”
Another pause.
“And… I do.”
Suo’s eyes widened slightly.
“I like you,” Sakura said, almost too fast, almost like he was trying to outrun the words. “I think I’ve liked you for a while. But I didn’t know how to handle it, so I ran. And then I got stuck, and I couldn’t come back. And then I heard what you said, and—”
Suo stepped forward. “Hey.”
Sakura clamped his mouth shut, suddenly terrified he’d said too much. His heart was pounding, and his face felt like it was on fire.
“…You mean that?” Suo asked, voice softer now. Almost unsure.
Sakura nodded slowly, fingers twisting in the edge of Suo’s jacket still wrapped around his shoulders.
“I didn’t know if I was allowed to feel that way about you,” Sakura mumbled, eyes dropping to the floor. “I kept thinking, you’d never—”
“You didn’t need permission,” Suo said, cutting in gently. “You never did.”
Sakura looked up.
Suo was closer now. His expression unreadable, but his gaze held something raw. “You didn’t need permission,” he repeated. “And you’re not the only one who was scared.”
Sakura’s breath caught. “You… were?”
Suo nodded. “I’ve liked you for a while, Sakura-kun. I just didn’t know how to say it without screwing it up.”
Sakura’s lips parted slightly, caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.
“I thought if I acted normal,” Suo went on, quieter now, “maybe you’d stay close a little longer. But then you started pulling away, and I figured I ruined it anyway.”
“You didn’t,” Sakura said immediately, stepping forward like the words pushed him. “It wasn’t you. I thought if I distanced myself, it’d go away. The feelings, I mean. But they didn’t.”
A beat passed.
“They only got worse,” he whispered.
Suo’s eyes softened.
He reached up, fingers brushing the edge of Sakura’s jaw, feather-light. “You’re really bad at hiding things, you know.”
“Shut up,” Sakura muttered, face flushing again.
Sakura’s heart felt like it was about to fall out of his chest.
And then, so quietly it could’ve been missed, Suo asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Sakura’s heart stuttered. He nodded, slow and steady, like he was trying to will himself to believe it was real.
Suo leaned in, his breath warm against Sakura’s face.
The first touch of their lips was soft, tentative, like testing the water before diving in. It wasn’t perfect. Sakura’s hands found the front of Suo’s shirt, gripping it gently but firmly, needing something solid to hold onto. Suo’s fingers curled behind Sakura’s neck, steadying him, his touch careful and sure.
Their lips parted and met again, a little deeper this time. The kiss grew bolder, less shy, more urgent, but still gentle. There was a shaky vulnerability in both of them, a silent conversation spoken only through trembling breaths and fluttering heartbeats.
Sakura’s fingers tangled in Suo’s shirt, pulling him closer. Suo’s free hand slid down, resting lightly on Sakura’s waist, grounding them both.
Neither rushed it.
They took their time, savoring every soft sigh and fluttering touch, every quiet moment between the kisses.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other’s, their breaths mingling in the cool evening air.
Neither said a word at first.
Then Sakura’s voice broke the silence, barely audible.
“You’re staying, right?”
Suo looked at him like it wasn’t even a question, smiling softly. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”