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The night air was cool, brushing softly against Haruka Sakura’s skin as he stood at the edge of the abandoned basketball court. The chain-link fences rattled whenever the breeze picked up, and the streetlights above flickered, painting his shadow long across the cracked concrete.
He had trained longer than usual today. His fists ached, his body was sore, but still… he wasn’t ready to head home.
“You’ll wear yourself out, y’know.”
The voice was light, steady—familiar. Sakura turned, already knowing who it was. Hayato Suo walked onto the court, skateboard tucked under one arm, his usual relaxed smile tugging at his lips.
“What are you doing here?” Sakura asked, his tone clipped but not hostile.
Suo shrugged. “I could ask you the same. But between us, I think I’ve got the better excuse. Late-night rides make the wind feel different.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You? You’re just punching the air again.”
Sakura frowned, gripping his bandaged knuckles. “It’s training.”
“Mm.” Suo’s grin softened, and he dropped his skateboard to the ground with a light clack. “Or maybe it’s just running from the quiet.”
That hit too close, and Sakura scowled. “You talk too much.”
But Suo only laughed and kicked his board into motion, circling the court in easy loops. The sound of wheels against pavement filled the silence between them, steady and grounding. Eventually, he came to a stop in front of Sakura.
“Ride with me,” Suo said simply.
Sakura blinked. “I don’t skate.”
“Then you can stand. I’ll do the hard part.” Suo tapped the board with his shoe. “C’mon, it’ll feel better than throwing punches at shadows.”
Sakura hesitated. He hated being pulled into things, hated looking vulnerable—but Suo’s gaze wasn’t mocking. It was patient. Gentle. The kind of look that made resistance feel pointless.
“…Fine,” Sakura muttered.
Suo’s smile widened just enough to show it mattered. He stepped onto the board and held out a hand. Sakura eyed it like it was a trap. But after a long pause, he placed his own hand into Suo’s—rough, warm, steady.
The board wobbled as Sakura stepped on, but Suo’s grip tightened, balancing him. “See? Not so bad.”
Sakura looked away, cheeks warm from more than the breeze. “Don’t let go.”
“I wouldn’t.”
And with a push, they were moving—wind rushing past, stars scattered above, the city lights glowing faintly in the distance. Sakura’s hair whipped into his eyes, but he didn’t care. For once, the world wasn’t heavy. For once, he wasn’t alone.
Suo glanced sideways at him, that calm, knowing smile tugging at his lips again. “Feels good, right? Like you’re flying.”
Sakura swallowed, heart skipping. “…It’s not bad.”
They coasted together, silent except for the hum of wheels and the rhythm of the night air. Suo’s hand never left his.
And for Sakura, that small, steady warmth was enough to make the world feel just a little less sharp.
---
The next morning, Sakura was still annoyed with himself.
He leaned against the classroom window, arms crossed, glaring out at the schoolyard below. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t erase the memory of the night before: Suo’s hand gripping his, the rush of the wind, the strange lightness that had filled his chest.
It made him restless. Weak.
“Thinking of me?”
The voice came from behind. Sakura turned sharply—only to see Suo leaning in the doorway, balancing his skateboard on his shoulder, his easy grin plastered across his face.
“Tch. Don’t you knock?” Sakura muttered, but his ears betrayed him with a faint pink tint.
Suo chuckled, strolling over and plopping down into the seat beside him. “You don’t like silence as much as you pretend. That’s why I’m here.”
Sakura clicked his tongue, looking away. “You’re irritating.”
“And yet, you didn’t tell me to leave.”
Sakura had no reply to that. He hated how Suo’s calm confidence slipped past his defenses so easily.
---
Later that day, Bofurin gathered at their usual spot—a corner of town where the group kept an eye out for trouble. Word had spread of some out-of-town delinquents causing problems, and naturally, they were on the move.
Sakura’s blood always ran hot in these moments. The chance to fight was familiar, grounding. He surged forward, fists flying, carving through the chaos with raw strength. But as the brawl grew heated, he caught sight of one of the newcomers pulling a weapon—an iron pipe glinting under the streetlight.
Before Sakura could react, Suo was there. Calm, fluid, intercepting the strike with his forearm and disarming the opponent in a smooth motion. His composure in battle was almost infuriating—like he was dancing instead of fighting.
“You charge in too fast,” Suo called over his shoulder, still holding the line.
Sakura growled, driving a kick into his own opponent’s stomach. “And you’re too relaxed!”
But when their backs brushed in the middle of the fight—Suo’s steady presence anchoring his chaos—Sakura felt something tighten in his chest.
They finished the brawl side by side, their movements almost in sync despite their differences. By the end, the delinquents scattered, leaving Bofurin victorious.
Breathing hard, Sakura wiped the sweat from his brow. Suo, only lightly scuffed, glanced at him with that infuriating grin. “See? We make a good team.”
Sakura’s scowl was sharp—but his silence, his refusal to argue, said more than words ever could.
---
That night, back on the rooftop, Sakura found himself waiting before he even realized what he was doing. And when Suo climbed up, skateboard under his arm, Sakura didn’t snap at him.
Instead, he muttered, “…Don’t keep me waiting next time.”
Suo’s grin softened into something gentler. “So you were waiting.”
The breeze swept past them, cool and steady. This time, when Suo sat beside him, Sakura didn’t move away.
---
The rooftop had become their spot. Sakura wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he almost expected Suo to show up whenever the sky began to shift into its sunset hues.
This time, however, he wasn’t the first to arrive.
“Sakura-kun!”
The voice startled him. Sakura turned to see Kotoha, her smile bright as she climbed up with surprising agility, a small bag in hand.
“I thought you might be here,” she said cheerfully, settling down beside him. “You always look so serious at the end of the day. I brought snacks.”
Sakura blinked, caught off guard. “…Why?”
“Because you don’t take care of yourself,” she replied matter-of-factly, pressing a small wrapped pastry into his hand. “And because I felt like it.”
Before Sakura could protest, Nirei popped his head up from the ladder. “Ooh! Snacks? Count me in!”
Sakura groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the rooftop filled with voices. Soon Kaji appeared too, waving lazily, and even Umemiya climbed up, smiling in that serene, ever-patient way of his.
And finally, Suo.
He paused at the edge of the group, eyes narrowing just slightly when he saw Kotoha laughing as Sakura reluctantly bit into the pastry she’d given him. Suo’s chest tightened—not in anger, but in something sharp and unfamiliar.
“Wow, Sakura-kun,” Umemiya said, leaning way too close, “you actually look kinda cute when you eat like that.”
“Back off,” Sakura snapped, glaring.
Umemiya laughed, retreating not wanting to bother him much. The others laughed, but Suo didn’t. His usual calm was cracked, something uncomfortable settling in his chest.
Nirei, ever perceptive, noticed. “Suo-san,” he said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“I’m fine,” Suo replied too quickly, his eyes flicking back to Sakura. The lone wolf was surrounded—laughing at Kaji’s dry remarks, reluctantly indulging Kotoha’s chatter—and Suo felt a strange tug of possessiveness.
It wasn’t like him. He was the calm one, the steady one. But seeing Sakura let others in so easily… when it had taken him so much time, so much patience…
“Oi.”
Suo blinked. Sakura was staring at him now, pastry half-eaten in his hand. His gaze was sharp, but his words carried something softer underneath. “You’re brooding.”
The rooftop went quiet for a beat. Everyone glanced between them.
Then Suo forced a grin, stepping forward and ruffling Sakura’s hair with deliberate boldness. “Maybe I just don’t like sharing.”
Sakura froze, eyes wide, face flushing instantly.
Kotoha giggled. Nirei let out a dramatic oohhh! Kaji smirked knowingly, and even Umemiya chuckled softly.
Sakura swatted Suo’s hand away, scowling furiously. “Idiot!”
But Suo only smiled—this time genuine, warm, and just a little smug. Because even with everyone else around, in that moment, Sakura’s eyes were only on him.
---
The Bofurin crew had gathered at a quiet park just outside town. Umemiya thought it would be “good for morale” to relax after so many scuffles, so there they were—lounging on benches, chatting, eating convenience store snacks.
Sakura sat on the edge of the fountain, hoodie tugged halfway over his head, quietly munching on chips Kotoha had insisted he take.
“Sakura-kun,” Umemiya called, plopping down beside him with his usual lack of awareness for personal space. “You’re really changing, y’know? Back when you first showed up, you’d have punched me if I sat this close.”
“…Don’t tempt me,” Sakura muttered, but his voice lacked bite.
Umemiya grinned and, without thinking, reached out to pat Sakura’s shoulder. “See? You’re practically tame now!”
Before Sakura could react, there was a sudden shift in the air.
Suo.
He was behind Sakura in an instant, one arm snaking around Sakura’s waist, pulling him back against his chest. His grip was firm—protective, possessive—and his smile, though still present, didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hands off, Umemiya-san” Suo said smoothly, though there was a dangerous edge beneath the calm. “He’s not a stray cat for you to pet.”
The group went silent for a beat. Kaji raised an eyebrow, hiding a smirk. Kotoha blinked wide-eyed, lips parting in surprise. Even Nirei's serene expression flickered with confusion.
Sakura’s face burned crimson. “Suo—!” he hissed, wriggling, but Suo only tightened his hold, his chin brushing the top of Sakura’s head.
“Relax,” Suo murmured, low enough for only Sakura to hear. “I told you before… I don’t like sharing.”
Sakura’s heart thudded against his ribs. His first instinct was to shove Suo away, to snap, to deny the heat rushing to his cheeks—but he froze, caught in the warmth of that arm around him.
The group slowly resumed their chatter, teasing glances exchanged, but Sakura barely noticed.
Because for the first time, Suo’s calm mask had slipped—and all of it was directed at him.
And somehow, that made Sakura’s chest feel both unbearably heavy and impossibly light.
---
The park had long since quieted down. Bofurin drifted off one by one—Kotoha waving with a bright smile, Nirei whining dramatically about Suo’s “scary aura,” Kaji smirking knowingly, and Umemiya giving them a look that said more than words ever could.
Now, only Sakura and Suo remained, sitting on the fountain’s edge under the glow of a flickering streetlamp. The night air hummed with crickets, and the silence between them felt heavier than usual.
“…You embarrassed me,” Sakura muttered finally, glaring at the ground. His hands were stuffed deep in his hoodie pocket, knuckles tight.
Suo leaned back on his hands, gaze tilted skyward. “Maybe. But you didn’t tell me to stop.”
Sakura’s jaw clenched. He hated how Suo could cut straight through his defenses. “…Why did you do it?”
Suo’s smile softened, his voice dropping lower. “Because I don’t like watching other people touch you. I know it’s stupid. You can handle yourself. But…” He trailed off, his usual calm faltering as he exhaled slowly. “…it bothers me more than it should.”
The words hung in the air, heavier than any fight.
Sakura turned, eyes wide. Suo never admitted weakness—not like this. His chest tightened, heat rising to his cheeks. He wanted to scoff, to brush it off, but the truth was… his heart had skipped the moment Suo’s arm wrapped around him.
“Idiot,” Sakura whispered, but his voice was softer than before. Almost trembling. “You don’t get to just say that and—”
He stopped. Because Suo had shifted closer, close enough that the space between them vanished.
“Then I’ll show you instead,” Suo murmured.
His hand reached out, fingers brushing the edge of Sakura’s hoodie before slipping around his waist again, slower this time—asking, not taking. Sakura’s breath caught, his pulse hammering in his ears.
“You…” Sakura swallowed, heat flooding his face. “You’re too close.”
“Then push me away,” Suo whispered. His forehead dipped until it touched Sakura’s, their breaths mingling in the night air.
But Sakura didn’t move. Couldn’t. His fists trembled, caught between shoving and clinging, until finally, finally, he let them rest against Suo’s chest. Not pushing—just… staying.
“…Don’t make me say it,” Sakura muttered, his voice barely audible.
Suo’s lips curved into the faintest, gentlest smile. “You don’t have to.”
And then the distance between them disappeared, the world narrowing to the warmth of Suo’s mouth against his—steady, patient, but undeniably his.
Sakura’s breath hitched, his heart slamming against his ribs. But instead of pulling away, he let himself lean in—just this once, just for him.
The night breeze swirled around them, carrying the unspoken truth between their lips.
For the first time, Sakura didn’t feel like a lone wolf.
He felt like he’d found where the wind finally settled.
---