#spring is my favorite season so it makes me sad to see the sakura trees going bald...

[uwua3]

family.

🌸🌷 sakuma sakuya

summary: sakuya remembers when the dorms were silent, but he never wants to go back to that time ever again

dedication: written for my friends in the golden gays discord server. i love you all ♡

warnings: anxiety, family trauma, the future

author’s note: hi!!! this is the first writing piece i’ve published~ sorry for the delay; school kept me busy for so long! i hope you love it as much as i love my great friends!

i wanted to reflect on sakuya’s deep fear of being alone again that stemmed from an absent household. i believe there is power in reclaiming yourself from people who took advantage of you and doing your best for the people who love you ♡ this is a tribute to everyone who decided they wouldn’t be held back anymore at the expense of their families and found happiness in friends!

word count: 1,702

music: to die for – sam smith

Celebrations were being held inside the Mankai Company dorms as the four troupes partied, laughing about the Winter Troupe’s latest success against the God Troupe and effectively paying off the theatre’s debt. Stepping out into the courtyard, Sakuma Sakuya escaped the loud and irresponsible shenanigans that could only ensue between 20 boys with a quiet sigh of relief. The glass door closed behind him as the noise faded into the background. Unfortunately, the sound of something breaking and frantic screaming became a normal occurrence in the dorms. Leaning against the building’s brick exterior, Sakuya pushed his hands in his hoodie pockets before realizing he wore the same clothes at his Mankai auditions almost a year ago. The printed “SPRING” words across his chest was closest to his heart, making him subconsciously smile at the thought of his troupe members.

His Spring Troupe members... Sakuya could vividly recall meeting each and every single of them for the first time. Each one of them, at completely different parts of life, and they all found each other to be the start of something absolutely life–changing. Sakuya basked in the warmth of his fondness for his boys despite the cold frost solidifying his breath in the thin air. Yet, it didn’t feel like it was a winter dusk underneath the full moon. Sakuya swore he opened his eyes and was embraced by the spring warmth of blooming cherry blossoms above his head as he practiced by Hana High’s river with the Romeo & Julius script gripped in his hand. Sakuma Sakuya felt the same as he did right before his first performance as leader of the Spring Troupe: completely, and utterly, happy.

Masumi was Sakuya’s right hand man no matter what, where his harsh criticism and natural talent influenced all of them to become a troupe worthy of a sold out show. Tsuzuru’s persistence and unrelenting drive to be the best playwright possible inspired Sakuya to work even harder to expand his range of abilities. Citron’s perseverance and unwavering spirit that defined his charisma made Sakuya laugh into the night, reminiscing on Citron’s faulty Japanese that somehow got pulled all together to recite his otherworldly stories way past bedtime. Even Itaru’s rocky transition into acting was monumental, where it’s like the spark that died in the adult’s eyes was ignited back to life, like a firecracker in a summer festival. At the thought of summer, which led to Summer Troupe, then Autumn and Winter, Sakuya became overwhelmed with the thought of his friends, the boys he would do anything for just right behind him. Never in his life, did Sakuya ever fathom he could feel this happy. But, did he deserve them?

It was enough to make Sakuya suddenly cry alone, outside in the freezing cold as the rambunctious bunch continued celebrating into the hours of the next day. At first, a single drop fell from his eye and before he knew it, it was an onslaught of a repressed emotion he had to hide as the first Mankai company leader: fear. Dropping to a crouching position, Sakuya attempted to muffle his cries as he hid his face in his arms, pretending like it was the comfort of a beloved family member. Yet, no particular face came to mind. It was a blurry, distorted mixture of everyone who has ever abandoned him.

Nothing was permanent, if Sakuya learned anything from his family. He almost pushed out the feeling of that cold house but it came back in the form of his turbulent childhood, living to please and seeking to serve in any way possible as he was taken advantage of senselessly. You’d think after all that, he would know to disguise his true feelings and thoughts with his quick acting impulse, but Sakuya was just as naive as before. Sakuya was so honest in his face, his expressions betraying his intentions. Like right now, where his theatre company members were having the time of their lives together, without him.

How awful of him to be so sad on a night of fun and new beginnings! Sakuya sniffled as he roughly rubbed his eyes, muttering comforting lies to no avail. He was being selfish... maybe, he was really crying because Sakuya knew deep down he didn’t deserve any of this. The spring glow faded away as Sakuya opened his eyes again only to face the snowy scape of the courtyard. The gray stone was slippery with ice as the salt was scattered under his feet. At the center of it all, the building’s massive tree was rustling with the wind. Sakuya’s tears froze in their tracks as he exhaled, his body shaking as his thoughts ran a mile a minute. It didn’t feel like time existed in that moment, like the world stopped as he endured years of suffering and guilt in that very moment.

But, the world didn’t stop for anybody. In fact, for a moment, it sounded like the bubbly and catchy J-Pop blasting from Kazunari’s modern smartphone sounded even louder. It’s as if his ears became heightened to notice the amplified sound of the expensive alcohol Azuma swindled out of his eager customers spilling into multiple glasses. Sakuya heard the sizzling of the frying pan as Omi was feeding the peanut gallery, even Banri’s exaggerated mockery of Juza’s excitement for the desserts Tenma received as a gift from his newest movie set. Sakuya could envision it now: Taichi impressing Misumi with making triangular origami and enjoying the amazed grin on the latter’s innocent face, Muku & Yuki doing their schoolwork at the sofa before Yuki started cursing out the puppy pair for screaming, even the Winter troupe’s quiet disbelief but immense pride amongst themselves. Sakuya knew, for once, Hisoka wasn’t taking a nap. That’s how electric the energy was throughout the room. The party was in full swing, Sakuya even caught out of the corner of his eye Director and Sakyo sharing an intimate moment before it was ruined by the Director’s spices rant. Thank god Kamekichi and the manager didn’t hear it, or else a very sad Matsukawa would be paying a hefty sum to the scheming parrot.

Maybe he would vocally never admit it, but Sakuya felt himself turn as pink as the sakura petals that led him to a flyer for the Mankai tryouts. Sakuya felt the same as that moment: like he was staring into the face of his destiny. Sakuya pushed himself off the ground, catching his own mind off guard before it morphed into a phase of curiousity, like even his own brain couldn’t have any idea what could come next. Sakuya faced the moonlight shining upon him, like the stage spotlight he couldn’t wait to be underneath again. Sakuya could almost see the future in the clear surface.

Sakuya could see the next Spring Troupe play. The fantasy elements, the strong message of friendship, and the bond between him and his boys growing like the cherry blossoms. They would take a bow together in front of a standing ovation, where they’d celebrate by having a hanami picnic beneath the petals as they sat in the crowded park. They’d share their favorite parts and sleep that night on stage, just like the old times. He could imagine the spring nostalgia shifting into an exhilarating summer heat, even hearing the sound of traditional drums and booth workers advertising their games cutting the night air as chatters of his friends enveloped him in the best place possible to see the fireworks. The hot, humid summer would become a chilly and spooky autumn where they’d all have cool costumes and a competition to see who could trick & treat the most candy that night. It would move into the frigid but festive winter, as Secret Santa became too complex in a group of 20 as they would decorate the dorms to look like a Christmas bomb exploded. No matter what season it was, Sakuya knew they’d pull off whatever they put their heads to. The cycle would repeat another year. That was enough for now.

Sakuya stopped crying. There was nothing to be sad about; how could he when his true family was inside? Turning on his heel, Sakuya felt the warmth against his face as he opened the glass door to the cheers of his fellow Mankai members. He was right; Kazunari was DJ-ing with glowing cat ear headphones at the kitchen counter as he pushed the mic to his mouth with a wide, infectious grin.

“Just in time! Sakuma Sakuya, everybody! Everyone give it up for Mankai’s first member and leader ever!”

The room cheered even louder, pushing Sakuya into the group celebration as Yuki jokingly got on his case for letting the cold air in. But even then, Yuki’s smile reached his eyes as Sakuya took in everyone finally went quiet, waiting for his speech. They all looked towards him for guidance, for words of wisdom, something to remember for the rest of their lives. Then, it clicked. Sakuya hugged himself, the distorted face in his mind suddenly becoming 20. This was his family.

This home was warm. It was filled with endless, unconditional love & support. No hurtful judgement or prejudices, not even serious scorn for one another despite Juza and Banri & Sakyo and Yuki’s petty arguments. This was what family is: love, no matter what. Sakuya loved his brothers, his Mankai boys and his favorite Director. That was enough. They’re family.

Whether it was due to the sudden embarrassing attention or the quick beating of his resurrected heart, Sakuya smiled as he stood up on the coffee table, ignoring Sakyo’s comment about how they didn’t have the budget to fund a hospital visit if he fell. Picking up an opened soda can besides his feet, Sakuya lifted the discarded drink in the air as everyone mimicked his actions like it was a professional banquet. With absolute pure joy in his voice, Sakuya felt the tears threatening to pour from his eyes but for a completely different reason. They are happy, he is happy.

“To Mankai!”

“To Mankai!” The room chorused back with just as much love, and would do so for many, many more years.

[thiscatastrophe]

Dear Shino:

In Kumogakure it’s still spring. I’m not quite sure how; it really shouldn’t be, considering where it is in relation to Konoha and the ocean and the climate and all. But it’s spring, somehow, and I got to watch the cherry blossoms last night. There’s a photo of them on this postcard. It was the prettiest I could find, but it’s really not enough. You sort of have to see it for yourself.

Let’s watch them together one day. In Konoha, and in Kumogakure.

Sakura.

Shino,

Today it’s Saturday and all the stores are closed so I can’t do any work or get any shopping done or even just window shop because everyone in this town has curtains on their stores as if they don’t want me to buy anything (with all the money I don’t have). So I’m writing to you.

Let’s see. I think I forgot to send you something from northern Fire country—was the last thing I sent you Kumogakure? I might have missed a few towns. Here goes nothing:

I passed through Tanzaku Quarters three days after I left town. This whole trip has been a little slow, but I’m not in any hurry. Lady Tsunade’s hawk caught up with me north of the city and I took a short mission at a border town before I left Fire country for good.

Have you ever seen the northern border of Fire country? I left through the Hot Water border crossing—it’s a mountain pass, only wide enough for one person to cross at a time. The minute you pass through their civilian border station, they hand you a fluffy towel from the city down the slope so you can take a hot bath as soon as you get down the mountain.

(And I did. The Land of Hot Water doesn’t fool around with their springs.)

But the second I left, I felt… weightless? I don’t know how to explain it to you, but I’ve never felt so loose and free. I miss Konoha, and I do want to come back, but I’m not in a hurry: leaving the country with very little to do but travel and see the world… it’s been wonderful.

After the hot springs tour of Hot Water country (did you know most inns let you have a free bath and dinner and a room for the night if you do a little yardwork for them?), I passed through Frost country, along the southern coast. No use going to Shimogakure: I hear the Frost daimyo is just awful.

From there I entered Lightning country sometime around midnight, about two weeks before this letter. Kumogakure was the first place I went, naturally; I got to work out at the Kage’s offices, which was a nice change of pace from waking up late and wandering slowly up and down the mountains.

This week I’m in a little village north of Kumogakure. Lots of the people here are older, so I’ve been doing eye examinations and moving tree limbs and repairing carts for food.

But it’s too long in one town, you know? I think I’ll leave after this evening’s over.

Yours,

Sakura.

Shino, my friend:

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply in my last letter that I was only writing you because I was bored. The truth is that I’ve been wanting to write for quite some time, but I never get a good chance to sit down and do it. I don’t like rushing my letters to you.

Maybe you’d appreciate shorter letters, though? I don’t know. I’ll try a few. We’ll see.

I hope my garden’s doing well. The weather’s been nice here and all the flowers are blooming. It makes me think of home.

Sakura.

It’s the middle of the night and I can’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do. I took this trip so I could feel better, but I don’t feel better. I’m better in the daytime, but the sadness doesn’t go away at night.

I miss Sasuke.

I miss you more.

Sakura.

Dear Shino,

Please disregard that last letter. Really, I’m fine.

Lately I do feel a lot better. Even though I don’t have anything to do, I wake up feeling energized. Mostly.

Some days, though, I don’t get up until noon and I cry for a few hours, but that’s not important.

Overall, I feel good. The weather’s been really nice, too, so I went back south (ship fare to the Land of Waves is surprisingly cheap). I put a dried flower from the coast in the envelope; hope it makes the trip.

Miss you,

Sakura.

Dearest friend:

(That’s what the post office lady insisted I call you.)

Am well in the Land of Water. Not as bad here as I thought it would be. Take a look at the waterfall on the front of this card—pretty, isn’t it?

Talk soon,

Sakura.

Shino, Shino, Shhhhino,

The land of bears has goooood beer. U should try it.

Saku-rama!

Shino:

I’m so sorry I sent you that last postcard. I tried to catch the post carrier but he’s really quick.

Anyway, as an apology, here’s a little book I found in Hoshigakure. I got it used, so it’s really worn out on the edges, but I liked it a lot and I thought you would, too. It’s like Red Sun Chronicle, except happier. I marked a couple of my favorite passages.

Best wishes,

Sakura

P.S. Apparently the drinking age is a lot lower in the Land of Bears.

Shino,

Greetings from western Fire country! I’m close to home. It feels so nice here. Late summer’s always been my favorite season.

I can’t wait to see what the village looks like. I know it’s got to be just about the same, but some of the little stuff will have changed. Let’s explore and see where the changes are.

See you soon,

Sakura.