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When Jo met Sakura at the train station, he was surprised to see the other boy wearing a hat that, for the most part, hid his hair. Some of the black peeked out, but all the white was tucked away. Jo hadn’t even realized it was Sakura until he saw the mismatched eyes staring him down.
“Whoa, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you covered up.”
Sakura seemed to assess him, searching for something in Jo’s face, before shrugging.
“You should take your Shishitorin jacket off,” Sakura said.
“Huh?”
Sakura just stared him down, a neutral expression in his mismatched eyes. Jo nodded and removed it without further fuss. He trusted Sakura. With his jacket shed, Sakura nodded and handed Jo a train ticket.
What if I hadn’t come? Jo wanted to ask, but it was a stupid question.
They both knew he would.
When they got settled on the train, Sakura closed his eyes and sighed.
“Thank you… for helping me today.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t really call this a favor, coming out to the city with you isn’t something I’d call a problem,” Jo drawled.
Sakura grimaced.
Jo waited patiently for Sakura to tell him more, but as minutes rolled past and Sakura looked more and more tied up, Jo tried to make it a bit easier for himself.
“Whatever you need help with…”
“Right. It’s…” Sakura huffed. “Sorry, it’s hard to say.”
“That’s fine. I trust you.”
Sakura’s face twisted, looking pale.
He never managed it. The ride was mostly silent. Jo eventually brought up a few topics whenever Sakura seemed to be brooding too much, but it was easy to see that whatever was happening was taking his full attention. When they got off the train, Sakura checked his phone.
At first, Jo thought he had opened a navigation app, but Sakura pinched at the screen, zooming in and then back out, and he realized it was a photo of a street view. Sakura nodded to himself. He started walking off, looking at Jo and jerking his head in a sign to follow him.
Jo did, taking in the sound of cars and people, a busier place than Makochi, for sure.
Eventually, Sakura slowed until his dragging feet fully stopped.
“Togame, I—” Sakura looked around and pulled Togame to the side, into the mouth of an alley.
He sighed and unzipped the jacket he had been wearing, then lifted his shirt.
Togame froze, seeing a taut bump where he would have expected lean muscle.
His mouth dropped, and he could see Sakura sigh and zip the jacket back up.
“I…” Sakura’s face scrunched. “They won’t let me get the procedure without the father’s consent.”
Togame blinked dumbly.
Sakura looked at him, then the ground.
“I… right before moving here, I had my first heat…” Sakura sighed, shook his head.
He brought his hands to his face. Jo jolted seeing them shake.
“H—he broke in and I—”
“You don’t… you don’t have to explain, if you don’t want to…” Jo said, scratching the side of his cheek.
Sakura lowered his hands but didn’t look up at Jo. Jo could see where Sakura was biting into his lip.
“I know I’m asking a lot, but—”
“Ah, well. I’m not ready for kids yet…” Jo looked to the side, at the mouth of the alley where people passed, easily walking by this heavy moment that would live forever in Jo’s head. “I guess I should have been more careful. That’s on me, for being older.”
Sakura blinked up at him with wide eyes.
“Maybe one day, when we’re older and ready?” Jo kicked at the ground. “If you want to… but until then, I think you’re making the right choice.”
Sakura’s brow furrowed.
“Hey, if someone sees us, they’ll really think…”
Togame shook his head.
“It’s not their business.” He held out his hand.
“But they’ll think that you are—?!”
“Okay,” Jo said.
“Huh?”
“That’s fine.” Jo shook his head. “I mean, if you want to tell people that. It’s fine.”
“It’s… fine?!”
Jo shrugged. He reached out and took Sakura’s hand.
“Sakura, I care about you.” A lot more than care, but Jo had a sneaking suspicion that now might have been one of the worst times possible for a confession. “Much more than I care about rumors or reputation. So, tell people whatever. The truth. That I was careless. Nothing at all. I don’t mind.”
Sakura blinked and then laughed.
It was beautiful and free and so unlike how Jo had ever seen Sakura before.
Sakura squeezed his hand.
“Thank you, Togame.”
The clinic was no-nonsense. Logically, Jo knew it was for professionalism, but it had Jo wanting to coddle Sakura. Jo had to sign a form consenting to the procedure, and then Sakura was taken to a back room. He looked beseechingly back at Jo, so Jo asked if he could come. The nurse gave him a suspicious look and then glanced at Sakura.
She told him to wait a moment and continued. Jo nervously watched the clock, the hand moving a quarter around before Jo was called back to follow.
Sakura’s face was red and unhappy. He had a death grip on a clipboard.
“She asked if you were forcing me to do this,” he seethed, “when you’re helping me so much…”
Oh. Well, how could Jo possibly feel angry or offended?
“It’s okay,” Jo said, earnest due to how his heart warmed at having someone look out for Sakura. “I told you what other people think doesn’t matter to me. Besides, I’m sure it happens to people. Better to ask and not need it than… ya know.”
Sakura huffed, but his face returned to a lighter pink, and his shoulders fell away from their previous position by Sakura’s ears. Jo noticed his hands were still gripping the clipboard too hard. Sakura shook his head and went back to looking at the papers on his clipboard. Messy handwriting had half of the first sheet filled out, and Sakura’s grip on his pen was awkward.
Like no one had ever taught him the correct way to hold it.
Jo frowned.
Sakura flipped through the papers, seeming to check over the answers. The nurse came back in. He handed the clipboard off, and the nurse nodded, paused, and then flipped through them.
She looked at Sakura, and Sakura looked away.
“I’ll get the doctor.”
The doctor came, glanced at Jo, and asked if Sakura was sure that he wanted Jo to stay. Sakura took a deep, shuddering breath.
“You don’t have to stay…” Sakura mumbled.
His hands were shaking.
“I’d like to stay,” Jo said, gently, “if that’s alright with you.”
Sakura was still, his chest not giving any evidence that he was breathing. The moment sat, suspended in the air.
“Yes,” Sakura finally whispered, “thank you, Togame.”
Jo wasn’t allowed in when they operated on him. He was informed it would be an hour and that they would then keep Sakura under observation for a couple more. Then they would be able to go with a pack of drugs in hand.
“I don’t need them,” Sakura had said, voice flat.
“… Just in case,” and then the doctor had looked at Jo and Jo had nodded.
While the doctor took Sakura away, the nurse who had previously been eyeing him walked over. She handed him a stapled series of papers, some printed, some handwritten.
“Instructions for possible side-effects and symptoms of rare, but more serious potential complications. I’ve written down a list of women and omegas centers that would help if… there are any other problems.”
“Other?”
The nurse sighed, her eyes closing in a pinched look.
“It’s not something the doctor has to deal with,” she said, voice low, “but I’ve vetted a handful of angry calls from friends and family after a patient has decided to… follow the fetus.”
Jo went cold.
He folded the papers and tucked them securely away in his jacket pocket.
Sakura was medicated and in pain when he was released into Jo’s care. Jo helped him out of the building and back on the train. He had asked Sakura about just letting Jo shell out for a taxi, but he had shaken his head, face pinched in pain and ragged with emotions Jo did not know nor could name.
Jo wasn’t about to make this any harder for Sakura, and instead dutifully assisted him all the way home.
Sakura glanced at his phone, trying to will away the heat he could feel on his cheeks. Togame wasn’t great with messaging, as slow as Sakura, which he had sheepishly admitted was due to finding it difficult with his larger fingers. Sakura had managed (through flustered muttering) to tell Togame that he could always call.
Over the rest of the break, when Sakura was laid out from stupid cramps and even dumber meds, Togame had filled the quiet with calls and even a couple of visits, bringing food, drinks, and a hot water bottle that Sakura could fill with the kettle from Suo.
This morning, Togame had called, the dropout awake to help with one of his part-time jobs, and had chatted with Sakura while he had walked to class. His friends had asked about meeting up at Pothos in the group chat, but Sakura, the coward he was, couldn’t help putting off facing them and had told them he’d meet them at school, so he got to chat with Togame the entire walk.
As Sakura had approached the school and let Togame know that he needed to end the call, Togame had wished him a good day and then had sent a clumsy selfie of himself, his Shishitoren jacket tied around his waist, cheeks ruddy from either exertion or the chilly autumn weather that had Sakura shivering. Behind Togame was a shipment of colas, half unpacked, that he was stocking for a local convenience store for someone his Grandpa knew.
And now, the door to the classroom loomed in front.
There was no reason for Sakura to feel so off-kilter.
As far as everyone else knew, nothing had happened. He knew he would get the third degree for being so withdrawn over the break, but luckily, most of his friends had been busy with their families, and so unless they had talked to each other (which was possible), none of them should initially know that Sakura had not hung out with any of them.
So, nothing had happened.
Nothing had happened.
He was going to be entering the classroom without the weight in his abdomen that had made him have to use the bathroom much more often, to the point that Nirei had embarrassingly told him that he might need to see a doctor, to which Sakura had frozen, trying to process it before exploding on the other boy.
He was going to be entering without the anxiety of what he was going to do, without the stress of what people would think, and without the memory of the event that had caused everything that he hadn’t been able to stop from clawing its way into his mind any time he was reminded of what was happening to his body.
He was free from that now. Could walk in and pretend that he hadn’t been pretending that he wasn’t dirty, worthless, and knocked up. Maybe that could just be the truth now. Maybe Sakura would finally, finally, finally be free from the hands he could still feel touching him.
Nothing had happened.
Sakura was good at pretending.
Sakura took a deep breath and opened the door.
No one even noticed his entrance; the room split up into groups that were staring either at their own phones or someone else’s. The look on their faces didn’t bode well.
“There’s no way it’s real,”
“Maybe they were on a date, but the rest is like, uh, doctors?” Tsugeura said.
“Doctored?” Kiryu asked, voice airy like he was answering on autopilot rather than with any actual thought.
“Yeah, that would make sense!” Anzai perked up, a nervous smile breaking out on his face, “I mean, Sakura’s not even an omega—”
“I’m not a what now?”
The room fell silent, and all eyes were on him. A few looked away like they didn’t want to see him.
Sakura hadn’t felt this in a while, the tight rope he had thought that he’d left behind. He hated it; it made him want to puke, yet… somehow there was a comfort to it. This had been what he was expecting all those months ago when he had first strolled into Makochi, thinking that he could leave everything behind.
(Not knowing he had a stowaway.)
“Well… it’s just…”
Even Suo looked away when Sakura met his eye.
“C’mon, there’s no way it’s true,” Tsugeura lifted his phone to show him what everyone had been gawking at, “this is totally fake! Right?”
The desperation in the other boy’s voice barely registered.
“Ah.”
Him and Togame walking towards the clinic. And his stomach…
He swallowed.
You can tell them anything.
It’s none of their business.
“…”
Everything felt withered and gray. Nothing… nothing had happened. Nothing was supposed to have happened, so why…?
Sakura woodenly turned away and went to his seat.
“Wait, no way…”
“… I really thought…”
“… didn’t even know…”
“That’s not virtuous of you.”
Sakura felt like he’d been electrocuted.
“If you make a mistake, you should own up to it.” Sakura turned to look at Tsugeura, who was staring at him with so much disappointment. “At least see it all the way through, but you just…”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” He ground out each word like it hurt him.
It used to.
He had told himself that after that alpha had walked in and used Sakura. That he was who he was, omega or not, and that it wasn’t his fault some shitty alpha took advantage of that. Then, when they had chided him on safe heat practice at the women's and omega’s clinic that he had gone to after finding out he was pregnant, he told himself he didn’t do anything wrong because he hadn’t had anything in that shed to properly barricade himself in. Then, finally, when channel after channel had brought him to a group that helped finance abortions for people who were assaulted, they told him that none of it was his fault.
He believed it.
Mostly.
“I mean…” One of the guys who always stuck close to Anzai began to speak.
There was a loud ringing in his ears. The tightrope he had been walking on… maybe when he had jumped off, the rope had merely wrapped around his neck instead.
“Okay!” Suo stood and clapped his hands. “I think that’s enough blatant gossiping of our Class Captain right in front of his face.”
The room went quiet again.
Sakura managed to drag his sight to see Suo smiling sadly at him. He was looking at Sakura, really looking at him. Not like Sakura was disgusting or immoral or irresponsible. He was looking at Sakura like he cared about him.
“It’s—you’ve been hit a lot…” Nirei said, then trailed off.
Sakura looked over at him and blinked. Nirei looked so sad, like a kicked puppy.
“A—and, you never showed any signs, even at the beach, there were no visible signs, so…” Nirei looked sadly at him, “I’m sorry, Sakura, you didn’t know until it was too late… did you?”
The room went quiet again. Sakura opened his mouth to refute it because, no, he hadn’t even thought of that, too busy thinking of his own ruined life, but Nirei’s gaze, for a single moment, turned sharp.
Oh. Nirei was throwing him a lifeline.
Sakura swallowed.
“I…” Tsugeura bowed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t even think about that! And you must be grieving. My short-sightedness must have caused you great pain, and that is not virtuous!”
Sakura, on impulse, almost said, ‘it's okay’, but the words stuck like thistles in his throat and died.
“It really wasn’t very virtuous of you,” Kiryu said to Tsugeura, voice mocking and poisonous, “you know I had started respecting you, but maybe that was too short-sighted.”
“I didn’t realize the situation, and that was wrong!”
“I went with a friend once because some guys dragged her into an alley,” Kiryu challenged, “what would you say to her?”
Tsugeura turned white.
“I—”
Kiryu cut him off.
“Should she have been forced to deal with the ridicule of being pregnant in high school with the baby of someone who assaulted her? And then what, raise it? Give it up for adoption?” Kiryu frowned. “All of her options sucked. She just picked the best for her.”
“It’s not the baby’s fault!”
“It wasn’t hers either!” Kiryu looked moments away from attacking him.
“Both of you. That’s enough!” Anzai shouted. “You’re making Sakura upset!”
Sakura wanted to snap back that it wasn’t true, but his sinuses ached, his temples throbbed, and the floor was tilting. All those eyes on him… judging him. Hating him. Yelling at him. Arguing over his existence.
“Oh, Sakura,” Nirei said, “you’re crying.”
The room felt much too small. Everyone was too close. He was freezing cold, but too hot, and the handle to his shed was shaking. Everything hurt. Everything burned. He couldn’t see the alpha’s face but—
A hand grabbed his, and it was only years of stuffing everything down that kept him from whining or whimpering as he was dragged out of the room.
Eyes.
He could feel them.
“Everybody’s… looking at me.”
“They’re not,” Nirei said, squeezing Sakura’s hand. “And it doesn’t matter if they are! I’m not gonna let them say anything.”
“You’ll be fine, Sakura,” Suo said, rubbing a thumb against the back of Sakura’s other hand, “everything will be fine. We’re with you no matter what.”
“Even if—” Sakura choked on a breath, “even if I… with Togame… and… getting rid of a mistake?”
Nirei and Suo looked at each other and then back at him. Their faces were clear of any indication of deception, and their eyes were sincere and earnest.
“Yes, Sakura,” Suo said, “even then.”
“… If that’s the case, then maybe we should go over some uh, health things?” Nirei said, voice pitching up at the end.
Sakura laughed hysterically.
“Please don’t try to give me the talk,” Sakura whined, “I already got the third degree when I had to go to an omega clinic.”
Sakura bit his lip.
“When I… realized… I didn’t know what to do or what was happening at first. I ended up waiting for my doctor’s appointment, and that’s when I found out. I was sent to an omega clinic after and… I told them what happened,” he laughed bitterly, “they ended up giving me a lecture on that stuff.”
He could see Nirei reaching for his book, but to his relief, the beta didn’t pull it out.
“Okay,” Nirei said instead, “of course, Sakura.”
“Hey, Sakura,” Suo said, “we don’t know the truth. Only you do. If you ever want to tell us we’re here.”
“Y—yeah! Unless it’s to talk about how Togame is in bed, which—actually, that would be some crazy information…” Nirei put a hand on his chin, consideringly.
“Nirei.”
“Oh uh… sorry.”
Sakura laughed again, lighter this time.
“I really… I really appreciate you two.” Sakura wasn’t ready to tell them everything, but they trusted him. “That clinic wouldn’t let me get the procedure without the father’s signature… so I asked Togame to sign it even though it wasn’t…”
“Wasn’t his?” Nirei said quietly.
Sakura gave one sharp nod. He pursed his lips. Everything inside him was so knotted that it was always so hard to be able to straighten it out enough to put it into words. And then with this, to say it so directly…
Sakura sucked in a breath, held it, and then let it out.
“You know. When you two broke into my house, it… scared me.”
“Oh, uh, sorry…?”
Nirei looked confused, but Sakura could see a brief look of dawning horror on Suo before his face went blank.
Sakura looked down.
“I was scared that… it was happening again…”
His words sat in the air.
“Thank you for telling us that,” Suo said. A hand lightly touched his back. “And I’m sorry we broke in. We just wanted to check on you. If we ever do something that makes you uncomfortable, let us know. You don’t have to tell us why, just that you don’t like it.”
“… So, we don’t need to threaten Togame,” Nirei sighed, slumping, “I was preparing for it, but I know Togame can definitely kill me.”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t let you have all the fun!” Suo said, patting Nirei on the back.
Nirei gave him an exasperated look.
“Dude, I’ve watched him fight. I don’t know...”
The conversation devolved after that. Suo asked Nirei about who he thought Suo could and couldn’t take in a fight, and Nirei jumped on that topic like a bloodhound on a rabbit. Sakura made noises of assent and dissent when appropriate and even added a couple of points that seemed completely logical to him, but that Nirei and Suo were taking in like it had never occurred to them.
They were interrupted by Sugishita. The taller boy loomed over them. His face was unfairly uncertain and disgruntled in the way that Sakura could read that Sugishita didn’t know how to feel about something, so he just felt anger.
“… Umemiya-san wants to talk to you…”
Sakura stood, and his Vices followed, but Sugishita shook his head.
“Just Sakura.”
He heard Nirei’s opening protest, but Sakura just sighed and waved a hand.
“It’s fine, guys…”
“But Sakura…” Nirei said.
“Now, now. If our Captain said it’s fine, then it’s fine.” Suo placed a hand on Nirei’s shoulder. “We’ll be waiting for you, Sakura. Remember, you’ll always have us.”
Nirei nodded aggressively, and Sakura smiled at them before following Sugishita. They got looks as they walked, and Sakura could feel the building tension in Sugishita before the boy finally snapped at some gawkers to mind their own business.
“It’s fine…” Sakura said.
Sugishita turned his glare to him.
“It’s not.”
Sakura raised a brow, and Sugishita tensed again, but he just shook his head and didn’t elaborate, and then he was slamming open the roof door, pushing Sakura through and then leaving, slamming the door closed behind him.
“Hey, Sakura,” Umemiya said, patted the table, “why don’t you sit across from me?”
Sakura did so.
He felt Tsubaki’s piercing gaze and Hiragi’s unreadable expression. From Umemiya, though… Sakura felt a pang in his chest.
“I don’t want to pry into your private affairs,” Umemiya said, looking down at his own hands, “but I wanted to clear up some of the rumors. Just because some of them aren’t very flattering.”
Sakura grit his teeth.
That picture. That stupid fucking picture with Togame holding his hand and Sakura being at the right stupid angle for his pregnancy bump and the clinic…
It wasn’t fair.
“We just want to make sure you're safe,” Tsubaki cut in, sounding concerned but otherwise normal, “is Togame Jo hurting you?”
“What?!” Sakura spat, standing and slamming his hands on the table. “No!”
“Kid, I’ve heard from Sako that he kind of has a fixation on you,” Hiragi added.
Sakura flushed. That was… a lot to take in. He wasn’t sure what Hiragi meant by ‘fixation’, but the thought of Togame thinking about him…
“He didn’t make me do anything!” Sakura mumbled, feeling flustered.
“Sakura. Can you look at me?”
Sakura looked over to find Umemiya staring intensely into his eyes, looking at him for the first time since he stepped on the roof.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Right. Okay!” Umemiya smiled so wide his eyes closed. His hands slapped his thighs with jovial finality. When he opened his eyes, he was looking to the side, “Well, I guess that’s that!”
“That’s that?” Sakura asked in disbelief.
“I told you I didn’t want to pry. What you do is up to you.”
There was something… distant. Bitter. Despite everything.
Oh. Umemiya’s younger sibling. Sakura felt sick.
Not you. Please.
“It wasn’t Togame’s.” The possessiveness of that made his stomach churn at the reminder that it was someone else’s, someone who had… he continued to spew out words like vomit. “I had my first heat right before I moved to Makochi. Someone broke in.”
He dropped his gaze. He couldn’t stand to see Umemiya looking away from him like he didn’t exist. Like he was too unsightly to look at.
He clenched his fist.
“I couldn’t get the procedure without the father’s signature, but they don’t check, so I asked Togame—!”
“Whoa,” Umemiya was standing, “hey, you don’t have to explain.”
“But—!” Sakura could feel the world blur, “I didn’t want you to think I was just throwing away a mistake! O—or taking it for granted! A—and I didn’t know for so long, and I’d been in so many fights there’s no way it would have been fine, and I didn’t even think of that until Nirei said it today!”
Sakura gripped his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Umemiya gently grabbed his wrists. “Sakura, I’m so sorry.”
“I—I know what you were thinking of…”
“I know. I’m sorry I ever thought for a moment…” Umemiya sighed.
Sakura trembled, biting his lip.
“I’m sorry, do you want some space?”
Sakura shook his head. He bowed his head. Then a hand, warm and safe, landed on his head.
“There, there.”
Sakura broke down.
“You’re just a kid,” Umemiya whispered, “and you made such a mature choice. It must have been hard…”
“I didn’t… I wasn’t going to…” he shook. “Mom always said she wished she could have gotten rid of me…”
“Oh, Sakura,” then he was pulled into a hug. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. It’s just a rumor. It’ll blow over.”
Sakura sniffled.
“Tsugeura already told me it wasn’t virtuous. It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything wrong… Did I?”
“No,” Umemiya said, so sure and convinced that Sakura believed him. “You’re only ever trying your best, aren’t you, Sakura?”
Well, fuck.
Man, for all the shit lives Hiragi had seen, Sakura sure managed to take the cake.
“Kaji,” Hiragi approached, “let’s talk for a second.”
Kaji looked ready to tear something apart, so Hiragi knew he wasn’t unaffected.
“Is it about that?” Kaji growled. “Because I’ve had enough fielding questions from my class.”
Hiragi winced.
Hiragi wasn’t as close, but he was already aware of some of the rumors of Sakura’s morality. His Vices were something else, managing to twist the narrative that Sakura hadn’t known and had been too injured to carry to term, but he wasn’t unaware of the whispered shit like ‘maybe he’d let me knock him up next.’
Hiragi really hadn’t known what to expect when the picture had popped up. He knew Umemiya hadn’t taken any part of it well. Not it being Sakura, not it involving the loss of an unborn baby, and not the age discrepancy or history of violence between the two parties pictured.
He was just glad that Umemiya was a contemplator. Tsubaki not as much.
Sakura can barely talk about romance without devolving into a coughing fit, and what, he’s suddenly dating?
Which had been a fair point brought to the table. Not to mention the fact that he was an omega. Hiragi had been informed at the start of the term, but Sakura had never shown any signs of typical omega behavior and had never taken time off for heats as far as Hiragi knew. He had assumed it to be either a clerical error or a health issue and had tucked the thought away.
He knew why, now. In a way, it had been a health issue.
Hiragi had been for letting sleeping dogs lie, maybe reaching out to see if Sakura needed anything, but Tsubaki was already mentally on a warpath with Shishitorin, and Hiragi could see Umemiya hurting, sinking somewhere deep and dark that Hiragi had only really seen Sakura able to touch upon. Hiragi feared the loss of the relationship between the two and how it would devastate both parties. So, when Umemiya had suggested asking him up to ask if Togame was hurting him, Hiragi had thought it might be the best compromise.
The outcome was both worse and better than expected. On the one hand, the tragedy that was Sakura Haruka just got more tragic; on the other, Umemiya no longer looked like he was ready to dismiss Sakura. Instead, Sakura was now passed out after crying like a child, leaning into Umemiya with Tsubaki, mascara ruined by his own tears, guarding both of them.
Maybe it was wrong of Hiragi to encourage whatever fixation Umemiya had on Sakura, but he thought both parties were damaged enough to need each other.
“Listen. It’s Sakura’s business, and I don’t believe in spilling it out for everyone, but…”
Kaji raised a brow.
Hiragi sighed. He had no idea how Kaji would handle this.
“We had a talk on the roof to check in with him. We wanted to make sure no one was hurting him.”
Kaji’s eyes sharpened.
“Well,” Hiragi sighed and scratched at his neck, “Togame isn’t. Sakura had been… hurt. Right before coming to Makochi. Which resulted in…”
Kaji’s face looked open and scared.
“What? He said that?”
“Yes. I think he was worried about what Umemiya would think.”
“And it’s. It’s true, right?” Kaji’s face scrunched up. “Then why was Togame Jo with him?”
Hiragi crossed his arms.
“Those places won’t let people get the procedure without the father’s written consent, but they don’t do any kind of checks or testing.”
“Then why didn’t he ask—?” Kaji’s face flamed up, and he looked away. “I would have helped him.”
Hiragi wasn’t expecting that, but it was a nice surprise. Kaji was a good kid.
“I don’t know the exact reason, but I can guess.”
Kaji raised a brow.
“Well, it’s not an easy thing to ask, and Togame is in the unique position of being a confidante of his, but not too close. If Togame rejected or ridiculed him, then Sakura could distance himself from it.”
Kaji pouted but nodded.
“So… what do I do now?” He asked.
“That’s the hard part. Do your best to shut down the rumors. Be there for Sakura if he needs anything. His Vices have already twisted the narrative to make it sound like the pregnancy wasn’t viable due to the multiple brawls he’s been in. It’s made him more sympathetic. The worst thing to look out for is… harassment.”
Kaji’s face twisted.
“Hey, Togame… I didn’t know you and Sakura were dating!”
“Or that Sakura was an omega.”
Jo froze.
He turned and scratched at the back of his neck.
“Oh? Where’d ya hear that?”
The Shishitorin members looked at each other uneasily. One of them pulled out his phone.
Ah, someone had snapped a photo.
“Where’d you get this?”
“I—I don’t know, it’s been circling around…”
So, everyone knew. Furin definitely wasn’t immune to this. He’d have to check up on Sakura.
“Delete it. And tell anyone else that has it to delete it too.”
One of the members opened their mouth, but at Jo’s look, they froze.
“R—right. Whatever you say.”
Jo nodded.
“B—but uh, congrats, er, condolences? Uh…”
Jo sighed and just shook his head.
He’d have to check in with Sakura before he committed to any kind of story. He didn’t want to say something to rock the boat of whatever Sakura had put out there. He didn’t really care about his own reputation, so people could think what they wanted. He liked his friends, but he’d been alone before, and he had Sakura, too.
And it’s not like whatever flak came down on him would be a drop in the bucket to whatever Sakura was probably dealing with.
“What did you say?”
Jo looked over to see Choji staring down another Shishitorin member.
“I— I didn’t—!”
Choji grabbed the guy’s shirt and pulled him down, his other hand ramming right into his nose. Fear flashed through Jo.
Not again. Please.
The guy was tossed to the ground, and Choji pressed his foot against his skull and grounded him into the dirt.
“If I hear anyone talk bad about Sakura-chan, then they can be my ‘sparring’ partner,” Choji removed his foot and crouched, “it’s a great learning experience, ne? You learned something, right?”
The guy pushed up.
“R— right! Of course, sorry. Sorry.”
Choji smiled, and then it dropped.
“Get out.”
The guy scrambled up and was out the door.
Choji stood up, dusting his hands off.
“Everyone got that?!” He yelled commandingly from his chest.
Resounding cheers of affirmation and fear rang out.
Choji stared at the ground. Then he glanced over at Jo and gestured with his head to the roof. Jo nodded and started walking that way with Choji.
At the top, the sunlight beating down weakly in the autumn sky, they sat in silence. This… this was the only relationship that truly mattered. What did Choji think?
Jo took in a resolute breath. It didn’t matter. Even if it broke his heart, he’d decided to stand by Sakura.
“What he said was… disgusting,” Choji sighed, “I didn’t like the way he talked about Sakura-chan, like Sakura-chan is someone to use.”
Jo seethed. Whatever Choji had done, Jo would have done worse. The anger simmered down until Jo was ready to talk.
“Listen… Choji…”
Choji shook his head.
“If you or Sakura-chan need anything, let me know, okay?”
Jo bit his lip, emotion heavy in his throat. He nodded.
Choji reached out and hugged him.
“There, there,” Choji said, “it’s okay if it rains today. It’ll clear up. If not today, then the next. Or the day after that, or the day after that.”
Jo hugged him back and hoped Sakura wasn’t drowning in the downpour.
After a day of dealing with the judgment of not only Bofurin students, but also the townsfolk, Sakura was ready to combust. Some had a sharp word to say, but most were, even worse, sympathetic. It was apparently pretty well known at this point that Sakura was alone, and even though everyone had their own opinion, the collective seemed to have been that Sakura, someone vulnerable in every way but violently, had been taken advantage of by a sweet-talking, older alpha.
He was sure some of them had seen Togame walking him back home after the procedure, and he swore he saw what amounted to a sketched-out wanted poster of Togame Jo’s face in Cactus Bakery’s backroom.
Sakura couldn’t take it. He hated the attention. Hated the lies that were tearing Togame down and hated how his friends encouraged them to keep the heat off himself.
When he had called Togame to apologize, Togame had agreed with them. Some bullshit about being used to being disliked, to being the villain.
So, Sakura had told him that he would meet him at the train tracks at night so he could tell Togame to his face how stupid he was.
When they met up, Togame had the gall to not look fazed. All the anger Sakura had been collecting left him when faced with Togame’s green eyes, sleepy but attentive.
He wondered how Choji could be so ready to throw away dedication like that, and Sakura wondered why he was now a recipient deserving of that loyalty when all he’d done was try to beat some sense into Togame.
Sakura couldn’t stand it; his heart felt like a small animal being squeezed, squirming even at the pleasant warmth of how precious Togame’s quiet devotion was. He looked away, gaze wandering up.
“Do you wanna look at the stars?” Togame had asked, completely out of left field, until Sakura realized his aimless stare had been towards the sky. “I know a good place.”
Sakura had shrugged, and Togame had led, and now they were lying out in a grassy clearing looking up towards a starry night.
Silence had fallen on them, a warm blanket, but Sakura had never been allowed a security blanket, and he wasn’t going to start now.
“Is it bad that I wish the rumors were true?” he said, cutting in on the chirping of insects.
“Uh, depends on which, I guess.”
Sakura kept his eyes up.
“The one where we were careless. That I didn’t know, and the baby had been injured. It’s still a shitty story, but I think… with you…”
Togame kept him in silence for a moment.
“Do you want kids?” he asked.
Sakura laughed wetly.
“I don’t know. I never thought someone would want me.”
“Hm… how many?”
That had Sakura looking at him, trying to get a read on him, from what he could see, only lit up by the stars.
“Hm?”
Togame’s face was flushed. His eyes were closed.
“How many kids… do you want?”
“Uh, oh, I don’t know uh… people usually have one or two, right?” Sakura kicked a leg out. “I went with Umemiya to a welcome party at his group home, and it was… chaotic. But nice. It was always lonely and quiet before.”
“So, a lot?”
“I guess?”
Togame opened his eyes and looked over.
“I… I really like you…”
“H—huh? Wait, are you serious?!”
Togame nodded.
“If you don’t like me at all, then that’s fine. I still want to be there for you, but if you would be okay with me… maybe one day I… could give you… a lot.”
Sakura swallowed and looked away into the dark forest.
“I don’t understand a lot of this stuff, but I like being with you, but… I feel scared when it comes to that kind of touching.”
“Then we wait until you’re ready.”
“But what if I’m never ready?”
“Can I hold your hand?”
“Uh, sure…”
Togame took the hand that Sakura hesitantly held out to him.
“Is this okay?” He asked.
“Yeah?” Sakura said.
“Then this is enough for me.”
“For now?”
Togame hummed.
“Forever.”
Sakura sat up, pulling his hand away. He hit the soft dirt underneath, his fingers tangling in the sparse, wild grass.
“Th—that’s not—! It’s not enough, I—” Sakura pouted. “It’s not enough for me.”
Sakura shifted, and then he was hovering over Togame. Togame looked back up at Sakura. The wonder that Sakura found in his expression made it seem as if he thought Sakura was as enchanting as the stars above. He glanced at Togame’s lips and then back at Togame, then closed his eyes and leaned in.
“Are you sure?” Togame asked, but Sakura just pressed his lips to Togame’s.
It was chaste, and Sakura was quick to pull away.
“Is that good, too?” Sakura mumbled through his fluster.
Togame laughed.
“Hey! What are you laughing at, asshole?!”
“Haha, sorry, nothing, nothing. Just thinking that you always like to rush ahead.” Togame put a hand over his heart, “If you go too fast, you’ll start moving past what I’m ready for.”
“O—oh, shut up! Is a k—k—kiss too much for you?!”
Togame laughed, and Sakura couldn’t help but smile back this time, his hand finding Togame’s once more.