Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sakura, by no means, was a regular human. Nothing could mask the unearthly smell of lavender and sage that wafted off of them, leaving a trail of the slightest trace of aromatic mist behind them. Stepping only a length outward from the protective circle they cast around their house would cause unimaginable amounts of traps to squeal and screech, snapping and swinging above and below their cursed body.

And to this, they weren’t resentful. Sakura understood the fear of someone with unknown forces embedded into the coding of their fingertips all too well. Fear of the unknown; what they could do to you; what they couldn't. Sure, they might have appreciated the company of anybody else other than the two living with them. Despite their shadowing loneliness, they knew it was safer for the people of the Kamome Village. And Sakura, to stay a distance apart. The people didn’t like things that threatened their knowledge and common sense. It thrust them into a puzzle with a lock and no key. To keep it away, they turned to violence. Sakura had been in denial for a long time. It was no surprise the people reacted that way.

Although, the price for the power running through their veins is taxing, to say the least.

Deeply grounded into their routine, Sakura knows nothing but the creaking wood collecting dust in their small home, making them fall victim to a bout of coughs and sneezes if they dared move an old book out of place. Sakura's used to the constant smell of burning herbs drifting through the home, and they gaze wistfully out the long-already broken window with watchful eyes as the stars pop in one by one in beautiful succession. It smells sweet, natural, and yet, utterly boring .

An undisturbed and peaceful life is wildly preferred over being hunted for sport for their heritage. Of course, they pitied magical folk with reckless neighbors that refused peace. The ones bringing out their pitchforks, torches, and all. But for them, it was different, and their difference was staying cooped up in their slowly decomposing hut until their death. It was Sakura’s living hell. Too ‘ordinary,’ they suppose. What ironic wording for a witch.

…

Perhaps, they disliked the routine life they stayed trapped in. Hated it. Who is to blame them? Sakura should be allowed to want more than what they already have, can't they?

“Hate is a strong word, Sakura~ be careful! All that negative emotion is a bit risky for a person like you,” the flash of pointed fangs glinted amidst the light of a lantern sat askew. A bristly-pelted feline emerged from the darkness, separating itself from the cover of night it blended into. “Things can get a teensy bit haywire if you do, but I’m sure you know that already!”

“Tsukasa.” Sakura acknowledged the cat with a nod, turning back to roll their feathered quill in between their fingers. Tsukasa neared them, leaping up onto the table Sakura sat at to settle himself next to the warmed lantern.

“Jeez, you’re so gloomy…” Tsukasa muttered, “The people of the village will be asleep soon! A nice walk would wash away all those mindless thoughts. You can come with me to adventure around the area, like old times--”

“No. I am not risking giving myself away for a walk. I will not” 

“But whyyy?” Stretching, the cat stood back up on his four paws, weaving around Sakura’s arms. “Once in a while, you should get out!” A whine came from the cat as he nudged their shoulder.

A huff came from the witch, picking up Tsukasa by his middle and placing him back onto the floor lightly. “It’s too dangerous and you must acknowledge that if you don’t want me dead. Even if the people are not awake, their traps are always active.” 

“I’ve been able to avoid the traps! I’m no less magical than you, Sakura!” Tsukasa rebutted with an incredulous stare. Sakura sighed heavily and turned to him with tired eyes. Tsukasa just wanted to help, so this wasn’t the first time he tried to convince them to take a stroll farther from home. They felt regretful that the offers had to be turned down, but safety was more important than comfort. 

“And you’re always in your cat form. The only reason you get away with it is that the residents see you as an unassuming animal. Who knows how many stray cats wander about the village? To them, you seem no different.” Sakura turned back to dip their quill in a bottle of ink, “My face is known across their tales and wanted posters. I am not able to shift as you can, either.” Tsukasa let out a hiss at the rejection.

“So you’re going to sit here and let these common people dictate your life? You’re practically rotting away here!”

“It’s all I ever know and will know. It is safer here.” Sakura’s voice hardened as they furrowed their brows, the tip of their quill close to snapping as ink blotted onto the parchment, “Now, I have some work to busy myself with. As much as I do wish to partake in your offer, I’d rather stay alive. Watch out for when Natsuhiko comes back and ensure nobody follows him back. That is your duty.” With a wave, they turned to scratch ink hatchings onto the piece of scroll laying in front of them, signaling the close of their conversation.

Tsukasa turned away and harrumphed, making his way closer to the window. An eerie mist swam in the place where he previously stood on four paws, swirling in a tornado-like formation until the hem of a hakama replaced the swarming darkness; he took the form of a short, childlike body. “You got it!” Tsukasa saluted with a now human arm, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. His mood switched quickly as he remembered the promise of Natsuhiko coming back with food. He dashed to the window next to the door and pushed back the ratty curtains that squealed against the pole, Tsukasa wearing a grin that stretched wide across his face. Large, piercing amber eyes darted in their sockets to scan the nearly pitch-black forest, searching for a specific cloak to appear.

Once or twice a week, Natsuhiko would go out and buy food supplies from Kamome Village’s market and bring them to Sakura. It was how they stayed alive safely since Tsukasa couldn’t be trusted to not draw suspicion onto himself in public. Normally, the responsibility would have fallen on Sakura to retrieve items from the market. If it hadn’t been for the fact they would be killed on the spot if somebody found them wandering around. Natsuhiko took up the job with dignity.

He was eager to help in any way he could to the cause of Sakura and Tsukasa’s outcast reputation. Even as a regular, non-magic human, Natsuhiko contributed happily and without complaint. Tsukasa was quick to joke that Sakura bewitched him with an affection charm when he saw just how clingy and obedient Natsuhiko was to the young witch. Natsuhiko grew up in the same village Sakura originated from, not interacting much in their childhoods. When he found a teenage Sakura huddling in a damp cave in the middle of the chilling winter after being chased out, Natsuhiko did everything in his power to help. Even years and years after, he was unwaveringly loyal. At times, Sakura was appreciative of his willingness. Other times, it was unbearable.

A squeak came from Tsukasa when he stopped and spotted it, finally; a tall cloaked stumbling ungracefully through the pounding rain and muddy grass. His eyes lit up. In a flash, Tsukasa spun his head around at breakneck speed. Sakura already noticed the approaching figure before he could alert them. 

“The rain has been heavy the past few days. Go out and help him, please. I requested more than usual this week.” they instructed while observing the struggling man, “don’t forget to give Natsuhiko a good nip if he forgot the plums.”

“Yup! At your service!” Tsukasa yipped, scrambling for the door as he shifted back into his feline form and slid outside.

The sky was overcast, giving the forest a murky, harrowing appearance that enamored him. Sakura wasn’t kidding when they said the rain had been heavy. Raindrops stuck to his pelt like snagging bits of brick weighing him down, no matter how hard he shook them off through the many that slid off his coat. He soon realized it was futile to keep trying to shake off the rain. As far as he could tell, the rain refused to let up anytime soon. Stride by stride, the cloaked figure became easier to distinguish. So were his clumsy and limping movements. The rain weighed down on the hood of his cloak, halving the man's vision. Tsukasa bounded on all four paws towards Natsuhiko and meowed loudly to capture his attention, quiet enough not to disturb any hiding animals nearby. A wince came from the cat when he saw Natsuhiko stumble in the mud. Dangerously close to tripping and dirtying all their food. Eventually, with the help of Tsukasa to safely find his way, he caught up, with a nip at his foot. 

"Took you long enough!" He meowed. At first, entrusting Tsukasa to lead him to the hut when he could barely see a foot in front of himself, was difficult. Natsuhiko was largely distrusting of Tsukasa in the past. He would try to go off-route to find his way alone, ending up stranded atop some tree in the end until the morning sun arose. Now, he knew to hold a bit of faith in the black cat slithering through the tall grass. As childish and tricky he could be, his housemates never pinned Tsukasa as the stupid type to lead them to trouble purposefully.

After Natsuhiko gave a playful nudge to the cat; responded by a flurry of claws, he flicked his tail as he looked back at Natsuhiko. “Did you get everything?” 

“All as Lady Sakura requested,” Natsuhiko took his hand off one of the straps of the backpack slung on his shoulders and saluted, “you'd be surprised at how vacant the marketplace was today. So much produce.” Mud squelched under his boots as they got closer to the hut where he was met with Sakura eyeing them warily. Natsuhiko squinted at the window. Now that he was closer, it seemed they were staring directly behind them. At something behind them.

Behind them?

A tremor of fear shot through his spine as he picked up his pace holding a firm grip on the straps of his backpack. No, nope, never. He was not investigating whatever that thing could be. Not during the tipping of midnight. Not when he was so physically exhausted it would be impossible to fight back or be any competition if someone-- or something-- popped out of the dark and attacked him then and there. Luckily, the two were close to the hut already. He wouldn’t die today.

As soon as Natsuhiko raised his muddied boots to enter the hut, Sakura immediately shot out a hand to stop him, “Do you think you’re getting in here with those boots? You’ll make a mess. Take them off on the porch and get inside.” Tsukasa blew a raspberry at Natsuhiko and shook the water off his fur. Tsukasa quickly transformed and ran in, landing on the warm couch inside.

Natsuhiko sighed, obliging to his lady. Once he entered the house, Sakura took the backpack from him and searched through it. After rustling around the pack, they cast a grateful look at Natsuhiko. “Well done. This will supply us for a while. You should go and rest, you’ll have to watch over Tsukasa tomorrow.” The happiness of the praise was short-lived after the mention of Tsukasa, but the promise of rest was equally as relieving. 

“Yes, Lady Sakura.”

Chapter Text

Natsuhiko awakens to the sound of sharp raps against the front door.

Confusion muddles his brain as he comes into consciousness, trying to ease the dizzying fuzz in his head. For a moment, he pauses, letting the silence wash over him like icy water. But the thing behind the door sends another ripple through the hut before he can entertain the idea of it being a dream.

Unease swelled in the atmosphere, and he suddenly felt infinitesimally small compared to the swallowing shadows. Grasping at the tray kept beside him, he procures a matchbox and a candle. After struggling with a stubborn match for a few seconds, he lights the candle.

As the warm light bathed the room, he shivered, but not because of the cold prickling along his skin. Lady Sakura had a strange preference for decor. The withered spellbooks, the bones of long-deceased animals, and an endless supply of candles littered the shelves. It was far too unwelcome at night, and he's reminded of why he never liked waking up early. Now those shelves and the items on them shook with each hit the door took.

Another spine-crawling shudder passes through him as if the bugs festering under the wood floors had emerged onto him. He hated to see the full brunt of the creepy interior in the deafening stillness. Well, it was not so still anymore, Natsuhiko recalls with a jolt. Another thundering knock shakes the hut, efficiently making Natsuhiko spring up from his mat.

Visitors? This early? Natsuhiko nearly trips as he scrambles to the window and peers out from the curtains, and he is met with plunging twilight. Or rather, this late?

The persistent raps turn into earth-shattering pounds on the door, and Natsuhiko has to slap his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming aloud. Visitors? No, he must be going mad; they haven’t had visitors for years now. His heartbeat quickens as the noise drills into his ears, unrelenting.

Oh, what a coward! You swore to protect, and now cower in the face of danger!

The frigid air does nothing to soothe his rising fear. The porch is too dark to make out any decipherable people, mind too hazy to logic any of it.

Are there raiders? The village people? His eyes swivel around the room madly, as if the spellbooks could come alive and speak to him some guidance. They don't, and he prays to any god out there who will listen.

“What do I do?” Natsuhiko whisper-screams to himself while holding the lit candle closer to his chest. Who would know what to do?

The answer was more evident than a rising sunflower in a field of orchids. Maybe he was too ashamed to admit that it wasn't he who held the answers, but he caved.

“Lady Saku–!” A hand slaps over his mouth before he can utter another sound, and this time he screams, albeit muffled.

“Quiet it.” An unamused yet familiar voice scolded, and the weight of the candle gently lifted from his hands, “You should have come to me first thing when you heard.”

Shaking, his eyes slowly descend, and relief washes over Natsuhiko like a giant waterfall when a pair of tired, gold-speckled eyes meet them. Their eyes are weary with experience and don’t bear the same relief, instead, their eyebrows furrow, eyes flickering towards the door. Natsuhiko’s relief is short-lived when their hands slip off his mouth, and he's unceremoniously shoved away from the door harshly.

Pressed against the door, Sakura zones in on the noise on the other side. The knocking has become sluggish and slowed by now, but the utter insistence and panic of the person behind the door lying beneath each rap are constant; intoxicating to Sakura’s senses. 

"How curious," Sakura murmurs to themself, entranced, "not an animal, not a mob..."

The energy tugs Sakura, near bursting through the door. Their heart hammers in their chest just as fiercely as the other person’s heart as if linking souls for a brief second. Their hands roam the door, an unspoken plea to know what lies beyond. Their answer comes in the form of a person’s fist slamming against the door again, but beneath the thunderous noise, Sakura hears labored breathing and sobs.

Ao-chan, Ao-chan, wake up…

Whether or not it was a trap, Natsuhiko can almost tangibly feel the enamor Sakura absorbs from the door into their fingertips.

The pull, the slight excitement, and curiosity bubbling steadily like a cauldron. They’re lost within the new interruption to think. This is new. A taste that Sakura hasn't had for a while, fresh on their tongue, a taste they're absolutely ravenous for. Before he can leap to stop them, and despite all the alarms blaring in their head, the witch makes an uncalculated choice for the first time in their life.

They hear the lock slide open and the twist of the doorknob before they can register their hands moving at all. The door flies open, and two bodies fall from the doorway, and they collapse onto the floor. One unconscious and the other scarcely holding on. 

The first thing that catches the witch's attention is the vibrant curtain of violet hair peeking out from under the shivering boy with cracked glasses. He’s clutching something in his arms, the petite frame of the small girl bearing the said violet hair. The boy holds her so desperately like if he let go, she would disappear into mist. Looking at the state of the two, Sakura thinks that he might not be too far off from the mark.

The boy drags his eyes to meet Sakura's, distrust blazing in such a weakened state. A beat passes through the both of them, mutual and challenging. As if he is the one who should be distrustful, they sniff, watching him cautiously under half-lidded eyes.

Natsuhiko rushes behind the two and slams the door shut, bolt-locking it back in place. Both of their clothes are tattered and soaked with rainwater, smeared with dirt, blood, and ash. The boy is in rougher shape than the girl, appearing to have endured the brunt of the weather and whatever situation they had gotten away from. The girl is dangerously pale with a death-stricken pallor, not in the way a china doll would be, but she’s breathing– just barely. 

Sakura knows death, closely working with it as a useful ally in their work and yet running from it themself, having seen its chilling forces twist fate more than once before. That it only takes what it cannot give. Perhaps it is mercy that allows the poor girl to continue living. Extending a hand to brush the girl’s hand, they retract it almost instantly. She should have been as good as dead before they even reached their abode. How?

Natsuhiko is the first to speak, with an appalled and perpetually terrified expression, “Why? What do we do now?” When he stares down at the tangle of bodies, he’s not sure which of the water dripping down the boy’s face is rain or tears.

Sakura struggles to answer; or tear their eyes away from the strangers. They just shake their head, unceasing, as if in a trance. 

The two strangers seem of no harm to them, and they are far too weak and outnumbered to fight back if they regain some strength overnight. Still, Sakura feels a twinge of regret for letting them in without more precautions; and anger at themselves for being so foolish. They very well could have gotten all of them killed. Sakura is tipping on the brink of danger every breath they take, and they are far too risky to be making half-thought-out decisions like this.

The spell breaks, and now Sakura can finally speak.

“I…” The air is stripped from their lungs as they utter the syllable, face scrunching up to think clearly, “Help me bring them into the kitchen for the night. I do not believe they’re capable of explaining themselves just yet, and I know all of us are far too exhausted to try.” 

Motioning to the boy, they make eye contact with him again, but this time his gaze holds a clear purpose. A conflicting sea of rust-red pushing against cerulean blue, burning with determination, yet dulling with exhaustion as the beats pass. Still, even when his grip on the girl weakens and his bones seem to come undone, those unnerving eyes challenge Sakura with a glare.

Hurt us more than we already are, I dare you.

But Sakura doesn't let him finish his unspoken message. Instead, they crane their head up and look expectantly at Natsuhiko.

Their order isn’t processed immediately, and they stare at each other for a fraction too long before Sakura hears those awaited words, laced with practiced resignation.
“Yes, Lady Sakura.”

They gently haul the strangers into the kitchen with strained effort after the boy falls unconscious, leaving a puddle of rainwater in their wake. Living under the radar doesn’t allow for Sakura to be as active, so Natsuhiko ends up doing most of the heavy lifting. Natsuhiko offers to tie them up, but Sakura squints before shaking their head once again.

“When they wake up, chances are they won’t remember a thing. I don’t want to start on the wrong foot,” Sakura strides across the room and opens a cabinet, taking out lavender and chamomile incense sticks and lighting them with the nearly-burnt-out candle. They both watch the smoke swirl into the air, allowing silence to settle between them. Sakura hasn’t had any visitors for so long, they aren’t sure whether to treat them with reproach and fear or hospitality, but just by a glance, they can tell it’s the latter they need.

Rain patters on the roof, soft and melodic as opposed to its whipping winds from earlier in the night. Natsuhiko excuses himself to go back to bed, and Sakura acknowledges this with a curt nod. 

They know they should be in bed soon, or else they’ll be bone-tired by the time daylight strikes, but they can’t help but assess the prim girl lying in a heap on the floor, the unnatural energy seeping from invisible cracks in the girl’s exterior.

There is a reason for everything, the witch strongly believes. For every mountain, flower, and soul. What keeps it kicking, what keeps it grasping to the mortal realm, and what reigns it in.

It is what they most enjoyed when investigating oddities when it was safe for them to do so. Back when they were a naive and curious child wandering off to explore adventures of their own. That childish glee from discovery never did go away. It only hid. 

But this enigma of a girl, an oddity: through her veins sings a melody of crazed abnormality, although she appears perfectly human. A little too perfect, unnaturally so. Curiosity burns in Sakura's heart, ruminating and stirring like an approaching storm, but a storm is wild, bursting, and unpredictable. They couldn't place a comparison to the sensation. It was controlled, but festering. Alive and waking from years of deep slumber.

Slowly intaking a deep breath to clear their head, they drape a blanket over the mysterious boy and girl and snuff out the candle.