Chapter Text
Eventually, Umemiya reemerged from the room, and everyone’s heads shot up as he crossed into the hallway, eyes quickly meeting as he came into view. His hands hung loosely in his pockets, and he craned his head towards the room he had just come out of. Suo’s room.
“Come on.”
The lights were dimmed by the time Sakura finally got to Suo’s hospital room. He’d thought the hall lights grew a bit less irritatingly harsh at some point, but now seeing the subdued state of the hospital room, his eyes were grateful for the break from the blinding light. And even in the gentle darkness, Sakura could see everything in Suo’s hospital room with surprising clarity.
The first thing Sakura noticed was, of course, Suo himself—but a close second was the IV needle connected to his friend’s wrist, demanding Sakura’s attention as it twisted up to a bag of clear fluid hanging high beside the bed. It shouldn’t have been so jarring—Sakura knew well that fights could get really dangerous, especially with head injuries and that kind of blood loss—but it was something about seeing Suo just lying there, forced to accept the IV, the doctors’ care that might have saved his life. Suo, who offered help but seemed unable to accept it, was relegated to receiving help because he needed it that badly. Whatever performance he was running had come to an end, and this was the price of admission.
Sakura lingered by the doorway, momentarily stunned by the sight. His chest tightened a fraction—he was thoroughly sick and tired of this kind of pain that had been afflicting him for the past however many hours tonight, for the last few weeks of sudden total silence from Suo.
But Suo was here now, in front of him again. He was here, he was real, he was alive; the slow-beeping monitors dispelled any doubts that still threatened Sakura’s anxious mind. The rhythm reminded Sakura of Suo’s quiet breaths against his shoulder in the car, the resigned rise and fall of his chest.
“Come in and close the door,” Umemiya instructed. The group shuffled in quietly behind Sakura, settling in wordlessly near the foot of Suo’s bed.
Sakura took a good look. Suo’s visible eye was still closed, eyelashes flush against the delicate—Had Suo ever looked delicate before tonight?—set of his face. His other eye was covered now by a medical eyepatch, and a tiny wave of relief went through Sakura. He patiently watched Suo’s chest expand and contract with every breath, not quite as labored as before, but clearly still… uncomfortable. Probably from a couple of cracked ribs—Sakura couldn’t help but think of the bruising he and Nirei already saw blooming over his midsection and sides. And then he couldn’t help but think of the entire collection of bruises and lingering scars they found hiding in plain sight along Suo’s skin, of the red and black dragon with the broken but unflinching eye who reigned over Suo’s shoulders and spine.
Sakura imagined it while looking at Suo from the front now, the depth of injuries new and old (but especially old) nearly hidden from prying eyes with the hospital gown hung over Suo’s body that couldn’t quite hide all of the bandages precisely twisting this way and that. Bruises still peeked out here and there; Suo’s collarbone was nearly visible if not for the bandages resting atop it, and Sakura tore his gaze away so not to imagine that bloody gash tearing through it, not linger at the stitches in his scalp or his ear or anywhere else. A plain white blanket had been carefully placed over him, higher than Sakura imagined Suo would place it himself, though his left arm remained mostly unobstructed to account for the IV in his wrist. He was propped up, just slightly, a pillow behind his head and two others carefully arranged at his sides. His hair was still a little messy, missing its usual effortless perfection, but instead lay pushed out of his face, resting gingerly at his ears as if the strands had been conscientiously combed aside. His other earring had been removed, and Sakura couldn’t help but wonder where it was now.
Now, fast asleep and hopefully finally resting, Suo looked so much younger. Vulnerable in a way Sakura wasn’t sure Suo was capable of being (not that he was exactly an authority on the matter, but it seems like Suo wasn’t either, ironically enough). He was so exposed here, more than any of his friends had ever seen or even imagined him being, but at the same time he looked… safe. As if even in sleep, while his body wanted to protect itself, something deep inside Suo was leaning toward the hands that had tucked him in, had carried him here through the storm to save his bleeding heart, had refused to let him go.
Sakura’s gaze fell naturally to the two strangers sitting at his friend’s bedside. Well, they were strangers to him, but they obviously weren’t to Suo, were they? Even if he hadn’t seen Umemiya escort them both to Suo’s room, hadn’t seen the barely-concealed panic in their eyes, Sakura would believe that these people cared for Suo. He was hesitant at first, his instincts to fight like a screaming voice in his head, but he realized now that there was something between Suo and these two guys that was visible without words, felt without sight. And for maybe the first time tonight, the twinge in Sakura’s chest wasn’t just an ache, it was warmth—reassurance that, even if he had never confided in them, kept all sorts of secrets and spewed all kinds of bullshit at Furin, Suo did have people who he let in, who saw him beneath the layers he always tried to cover himself in, would come running when he needed them.
The boys looked only marginally less stressed than they had when they first marched through the hospital halls in search of Suo—their brother, Sakura was slowly, subconsciously accepting the notion. The blond had dragged his chair right beside the bed, within arms reach of Suo’s sleeping figure. He looked more openly worried, or maybe the dark-haired one was just better at maintaining his composure than his partner. The dark-haired boy was nearby, and Sakura realized he was perfectly positioned to see the door, the bed, his partner to his right, and the rest of the room to his left. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest like he was keeping watch, with a tight crease between his brows to match. The blond seemed to benefit from the other’s vigilance, his posture looser, like he wanted to grab Suo and hold him but had just enough sense to restrain himself.
The dark-haired boy met Sakura’s observant eyes and stared hard. Sakura knew from experience—he was being judged, intensely. But he found that the stranger’s cold gaze didn’t bother him as much as he expected; in fact, he could hardly blame the guy. If Sakura were them, seeing their brother beat to hell in a hospital bed and his classmates wandered in, he would have a hard time trusting them immediately. How could this have happened under their watch?
“Rakta, quit staring holes into the kids,” the blond said sternly, as if he had sensed the scrutiny even though Sakura was sure the guy had been watching Suo and not them.
The dark-haired one, Rakta, hmphed quietly, not quite resigned but relenting ever so slightly. He kept his eyes locked on Sakura, like he might be able to discern the contents of his head and heart if he stared long and hard enough. Maybe he could. If it were possible for anyone, Sakura figured, it would be Rakta, or Suo.
“You’re all Suo’s classmates, right?” the blond one continued, looking at the group now, his hands tied together in front of him as he leaned forward in his seat. The boys nodded.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said and took in a deep breath. “I wish it were under better circumstances…”
His green eyes found Sakura’s in the mix of them, stayed on him for a moment, judging him like Rakta had done, critical and protective but then reigned in while Rakta’s glare lingered.
“I’m Bacchus,” he said.
The room went quiet save for the timed beep of monitors. Bacchus finally snapped his head to Rakta, abruptly annoyed. He made a disgruntled sound when Rakta didn’t respond to his provocation.
“And this—” He shot a pointed look at his partner in the next chair, jabbing a thumb in his direction, then suddenly looked as if he were biting his tongue. “Is Rakta. He’s not normally this much of an asshole. Usually.”
“Don’t swear, moron,” Rakta said, finally looking back at Bacchus, disappointment washing over his face and voice. Bacchus made another agitated noise, crossing his arms tight over his chest.
Wow, they’re a bit childish after all, Sakura thought passively. He wondered what their relationship with Suo was like: how it came to be, how different it was—how different Suo was—with Bacchus and Rakta compared to him and Nirei and Furin.
Rakta shifted his gaze to Sakura and Nirei. “Umemiya-kun said you two found him.” It wasn’t a question, more like confirmation. The two nodded, a gesture which Rakta returned, the tension in his face slightly unwinding. Rakta’s voice, too, gained an earnest, composed quality.
“Thank you for helping our little brother.”
Sakura was momentarily stunned silent as he let the information sink into his bones. So, they’re really Suo’s brothers, huh?
He glanced at Nirei, wondering if the blond had had any idea about any of this before this moment. The soft resignation on his face suggested that he didn’t, he was just as in the dark as Sakura. He knew it hurt Nirei like it did him, maybe worse; he and Suo were really close too, and Nirei prided himself on learning anything there was to know about his friends. Yet Suo managed to keep so many critical things a complete mystery. It still stung, but for now, Sakura bit his tongue. Suo wasn’t even awake, and he was the one he really needed to talk to anyway. Any real conversation or answers worth hearing would have to wait.
Sakura sighed under his breath. “Suo never mentioned you guys.” It came out more confrontational than he intended, but he didn’t take it back.
Bacchus and Rakta looked at each other, then at Sakura. Their gazes were still powerfully imposing—they were definitely strong, maybe one of them was the Master that Suo mentioned?—but there was a softness to them now that Sakura had to assume was because of Suo. A fondness for their little brother (he really did look younger and smaller now, especially lying asleep with his older brothers keeping watch at his bedside) that they couldn’t completely conceal, that lived in them regardless. Sakura thought he could understand the feeling somewhat, since coming to Makochi, anyway.
Bacchus’s smile was bittersweet, proud and a little sad. “He talks about you a lot.”
That gave Sakura pause. “Really?”
Bacchus nodded, crossing a leg over his knee and looking thoughtful. Rakta’s head dipped, and they both seemed to be considering something.
“Whenever we aren’t working and actually get a chance to talk, he always talks about what you all get up to,” Bacchus said. “Your school’s his favorite place, y’know.”
Sakura considered this. The image of Suo walking between his brothers, grinning as he chattered about what he did with his friends at school that day, like a little kid. Your school, Bacchus had said. Like he and Rakta weren’t a part of Makochi at all. Where did that leave Suo?
“Suo’s a good kid,” Umemiya supplied when no one seemed to know quite what to say. Or maybe he just wanted to say it.
Rakta nodded. “He is,” he said, like a defense, or praise, or both. He continued, though he again sounded quite tense, “Furin’s good for him.”
Bacchus’s expression hardened and Sakura was sure there was something he was missing. Or more like he was being left out of.
“Why’re ya talking like he’s gone?” All eyes flew to Sakura when he spoke. “When he disappeared, he was with you guys, wasn’t he?”
Rather than stare at Sakura, Rakta watched Suo, who still asleep in bed, still receiving IV fluids, still vulnerable.
“You’ve probably figured this out, but we’re not from Makochi.”
Yeah, that’s pretty painfully obvious at this point, Sakura thought. Maybe that’s why it took them so long to get here?
Rakta continued, “We all wanted Suo to keep attending school here. But the situation back home escalated to the point where he thought he couldn’t keep making the journey every day.” The boy’s jaw tightened, like the admission was painful. “We never have been able to break that bad habit of his.”
His gaze wandered up and down Suo’s sleeping figure, as if making sure all of his brother were still there. Then, muttered after a tired exhale, as if on instinct: “Shǎzi.”
Bacchus looked between the two for a long time, then found Nirei and Sakura’s eyes in the crowd. There was some kind of deep-seeded fatigue in them that felt too familiar for Nirei.
“Please, consider welcoming him back to Furin once this is all over…” Bacchus pleaded, voice hushed slightly with the weight of the admission. “I don’t want to imagine right now what he did to try to keep you guys out of this, but... I’ll ask you all to at least consider it.”
The first-years’ shoulders straightened, a collective breath passing through their lungs. Sakura’s fist clenched at his side, tight between him and Nirei.
“If the bastard can be honest for once in his damn life, that’s all I need right now.”
Sakura didn’t want to speak for everyone else, but he knew his own feelings now: he wanted this aching hole in his chest to close, to have that part of his heart back. For any of that to happen, he had to talk to Suo. They needed to have a conversation, an honest one, maybe with words, maybe with fists—but Sakura and his friends wouldn’t let Suo run away anymore. He needed to know that Furin had been his home, too, and that they had been there for him if he had just let them in a little more. If Suo could at least leave the door open a bit more, they would meet him there until they could share what Suo was trying to make an empty space until there was warmth. For as smart as Suo was, this was apparently a lesson that he’d struggled to learn his whole life. But that was okay. He had more, new teachers now. Weren’t they all stronger together?
Suo let out a stifled pained noise as he shifted in his sleep. Bacchus was there immediately, ensuring the pillows at his sides were still comfortable and brushing the hair out of his eyes with a tender hand.
Rakta watched Bacchus dote over their brother, not missing a single movement, seeing more than just the motions of one person taking care of another. When Bacchus returned to his chair, he and Rakta shared a look.
Then, Rakta looked to the group of Furin students standing across from them and said, “Why don’t you find some chairs?”
Something loosened the giant ball of tension tangled in Sakura’s chest. He took the opportunity to breathe deeply for the first time in what felt like forever. This he could do. More waiting sucked, but it was all anyone could do right now. And at least this way he knew that Suo was okay, could see him there. Maybe he could practice what he would say to him once Suo woke up.
Umemiya and Tsugeura returned carrying more chairs and towels, which they offered to Bacchus and Rakta, who were still not quite dry from the rain that was now calming down considerably. Kiryu had revisited the vending machines and returned with his arms full of snacks, offering something to everyone.
Time passed like that, in a tired but fond quiet broken by signs of life via heart monitors and crinkling food wrappers, warmed by the soft yellow glow of morning sun after a storm through the windows. Suo stirred occasionally, always comforted by someone; a light touch on the arm, a careful replacement of his hair out of his face, a readjustment of his blanket or pillows.
Yeah, Sakura thought. After everything, he could wait a little longer for Suo. For now, this’ll do.