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It was the first text Sakura replied to that held the weight of his entire world. It was also the shortest text Endo ever wrote him. He sent only an address followed by a two worded message. No hearts, no silly faces crafted by kanji. Come alone.
So, here he is, standing before a numbered door in a neighborhood Sakura never knew existed. His blazer sits inside out at Tsubaki’s insistence. The hug Sakura received before departing was twice as crushing compared to past ones. Some joint or socket cracked before he was pried away with Hiragi’s assistance.
The handle twists. This feels too easy. Would Endo be careless enough to leave his door unlocked and unguarded? Sakura listens against the door for a ravenous dog or a cartoonish trap to spring into action. Not a sound outside of an AC unit kicking to life.
His foot meets solid tiles. None sink into the floor when he applies pressure. Maybe he watches too many adventure movies with Tsugeura. A fighter as strong as Endo would never waste time setting up intricate traps with false walls and deploying weapons. Perhaps the unlocked door is a challenge to anyone dumb enough to try their luck.
Sakura removes his shoes when he spots a rack by the door. Two pairs of designer brands sit on the shelving. Such expensive taste for a guy who has more ink than an entire biker gang. As he tucks his pair into the left corner, red blotches sit just out of sight.
Sweat rolls down the side of his face. Did someone get here before him? Did Endo survive it? Of course Endo survived it! The guy is a total beast. Sakura forces his mind to silence its racing thoughts. A ring in his ears dulls to a soft buzz.
Biting the bullet ends with more questions than answers. Instead of a blood splatter, Sakura finds rose petals. Laid with intent, they guide his eyes down the hall where they sit at another door. A text would have been just as effective, but Sakura understands Endo not wanting to take a chance on him picking the wrong room. The man does live with Takiishi, and the redhead is less than kind to anyone who disturbs him. Why petals though? Tape is more practical, and meeting him at the door is cheaper.
He tries not to think of the implications when finding the second door also to be unlocked. A glow no brighter than a waxing moon’s slips through the crack. Sakura could turn back now. The last chance he has to walk away from Endo slithers from his fingertips. Nirei is counting on him, and damnit, so is Suo. One way or another, that jerk is coming home with a pulse and an apology.
The darkness welcomes Sakura with open arms as he crosses the threshold. Behind this swinging door are answers. He can feel it.
“Endo? It’s m—WHAT THE HELL?!” Wrong answers! Where Sakura expected a dilapidated room plastered with obscene posters and hit-lists, he instead finds a fairly clean space. Posters hang, sure, but nothing that would make a parent wonder where they went wrong. An oval rug sits before a made bed, and sunlight shines onto a handful of succulents that sit upon the window. The blinds were raised just enough for them to soak in warm rays.
And where Sakura expected a hunched over murderer, he instead finds a shirtless Endo swiveling into view. A computer chair is leaned back, exposing the midnight ink trailing across the older teen. In full bloom, a rose sits between white teeth, which Endo removes with a delicate grasp of the lengthy stem.
“Welcome to my humble abode, Sakura~.” Petals continue their trail from the doorway to Endo’s seat, surrounding him with a heart. Hands sit behind his head, nestled in black curls to further show off. The dampness hints that Endo showered just before Sakura’s arrival.
That, and the fact that the room is thick with scented candles and soap that smells like the ocean. A pleasant combination Sakura is unable to enjoy due to his panicked stuttering. Just what kind of stunt is Endo trying to pull?!
“Normally, I charge a hefty sum for my services,” Endo rises, bare feet pattering along the crimson walkway. The rose hangs between his fingers like a cigarette. He takes a drag of the refreshing aroma hidden at the center. How cute, he thinks. Sakura and the rose are the same color.
He stands toe to toe with his muse. The flower shifts from his nose, revealing a small but distinctly cheshire smile. Oh, Sakura, you silly boy. You walked right into the serpent’s lair. The tail wraps his frame. A fang infested maw snaps open. Snakes always swallow their prey whole.
“You, however, can pay me in your own way—URK!” Right as the rose returned to Endo’s mouth, a pesky thorn stabbed his gums. The point wedged itself between tooth and skin, hitting every nerve in its path. With that sudden jab, Endo changes his sultry face into one of pure pain.
“Aeugh! Oww! The guys in movies make this look easy!” Tongue swipes remove the droplets of blood that formed. Endo swallows, checking the wound once more to assure no pieces of thorn lodged themselves inside. The rose is discarded onto the computer desk. Stupid plant. It just made him look like an idiot in front of Sakura!
Speaking of the darling teen, his overwhelming embarrassment snapped back to stoicism from Endo’s blunder. Mixed eyes hold a bored gaze, and his mouth falls into a flat line while panther pink cheeks return to normal.
“I’m leaving.” This really was a stupid idea to begin with. Endo has no intention of taking things seriously. For all he knows, Suo could be moments from facing grave danger! Two weeks is bad enough on its own. Wasting time is no longer an option.
He turns back to the door, petals stomped and bruised with every step. Sakura can figure this out by himself. Hell, he might even pay KEEL a visit to see if they have answers. He still owes that one asshole a broken nose and a pair of black eyes. That should pick him up if they prove to be useless too.
“Hey, hey! You need me, don’t you? Come on, I was just teasing!” Endo jumps in the way, hands raised while he smiles. To keep the other in place, tattooed arms envelop Sakura. This is the closest their bodies have been since the war! Oh, he can feel Sakura’s heart picking up! How can one guy be this adorable? It kills Endo!
“P-Put a shirt on!“ Sweaty hands find awkward places on the teen’s bare shoulders to push him back. Touching his prominent, muscular chest would be…
Eek! Too many thoughts at once! Sakura worms out of the grasp and stumbles back onto a beanbag. For a guy who puts grown men into caskets, he smelled really clean. That body soap must be the good kind. It lingers in Sakura’s nose, pulling him back to the beach trip from a few months ago.
Everything was so normal back then. The waves crashed against his torso. Sakura was terrified of drowning, but with his classmates around, he knew they would save him. Even if he was pulled out to sea, their hands would reach to grasp him. Nirei, Anzai, Kiryu, Suo…
Would Suo have saved him? He likes to imagine the answer being yes. What would be his reason though? If Sakura was drowning, what would convince Suo to jump in after him? He tries to shake those kind of thoughts away. Asking the guy in person is closer than he thinks, so worrying now is useless.
Endo grabs a tank top from a closet that looks to be about the same size as the shed Sakura lived in. This stuff must have costed a fortune, unless Endo uses alternative methods. Actually, petty theft is too lame. He may be a bloodthirsty killer, but even Endo has standards. In the walls of text sent on a daily basis, he frequently talks about shopping sprees with Takiishi. The word “bought” being prominent in each one. He bought sneakers, jackets, studded belts with matching buckles. Money flows when you fight for it.
“You’ve come to the right stalker. I’ll find your guy in no time.” Properly dressed and seated before his computer, Endo closes out of a paused video game. The desktop is organized alphabetically; left to right in descending order. Sakura is too far away to notice a bloated file labeled with his name. A blessing in disguise. The thing is nearly a terabyte. All he can see from his position is Endo pulling up Linux. He really should have given his phone call more thought.
“Please do whatever it takes.” Legs pull to the chest while Sakura rests himself onto his knees. Eyes float around the room, taking in the little details. Paint choices, figures on display, photos strung across the wall on a string.
Sakura looks closer at the polaroids. A birthday party with Takiishi, the aftermath of taking Kanon to a metal concert, Shuji at the beach with a half tatted Endo. That part is only second to most surprising. What really makes Sakura raise his brow is how every picture looks normal. Each of these photographed men hold nothing back in a fight. With one swing, they could break someone’s spine, yet the camera makes them look like any other teen in the world.
“You sure about that? This might get messy.” Endo knows a part of the world most only see in their nightmares. A twisted darkness bending to the will of the highest bidder. Sakura might be tough, but this goes beyond physical strength. The mental toll alone might wither his precious flower. A rot that infects the root and climbs its way to the branches. Endo will have to keep those things at bay. The thought of anyone daring to poison the well and sully Sakura fills him with rage. He can do the dirty work for the both of them.
“As long as you find Suo, then it’s fine. I’ll stop you if you cross a line.” And just what kind of line would that be, Sakura? Endo is even more curious about the situation now. That Suo guy really pissed him off during the war. Stepping in with those fluffy little words about trust and crap. Ugly freckles and shitty blond hair…
Wait, no, that was the other guy. Is Suo the one that looks like Frankenstein’s monster? Nope, bean sprout is Sugma or something along those lines. Eyepatch! Suo is the eyepatch guy. Endo really should have at least learned the names of everyone in Sakura’s circle. Knowing the competition is how you beat them at their own game.
“Whatever you say! First, are you thirsty? This could take a few hours.” Always the host with the most, he is. At Sakura’s request, Endo fetches two bottles of melon soda. If Sakura saw how overstocked the fridge is, it would have thrown him for a loop.
He only stores what he considers absolutely necessary. Bread, a handful of waters, maybe the other half of a meal he took home. His mini fridge, which was an insanely generous gift from Kiryu, only has enough room for a handful of items. A full sized fridge all to himself feels foreign enough, let alone there being limitless options Sakura can take as he pleases.
“You sit back and look pretty while I dig.”
“P-Pretty?!” The comment makes Sakura jump. Why would Endo call him pretty? Is it part of that earlier prank to embarrass him as much as possible? He sends a halfhearted glare to the man, who only replies with a sly grin. Definitely pretty.
Endo twists his cap off, taking a quick swig. Finding Suo might be harder than he initially thought, but the laconic bastard hurt Sakura. How disgraceful to invoke such a sorrowful face on the teen. Endo wants to raise those downcast eyes, to see the glimmer of happiness return to their irises. This manhunt is the perfect excuse to be with Sakura! The attention, the hopeful cadence when Endo finds a clue. If his heart bursts at a bashful show of gratitude, so be it. A warrior’s death must not be denied.
“Making you do all the work…isn’t fair. I can still help.” The glare pulls back to the floor, following lines of soft gray that complement the black rug. Being useless is a rotten feeling. Akin to weakness in his eyes. Even just organizing papers will satiate him until the real fight begins.
What a charming man! Endo sets his drink down while swallowing. Melon soda clings to pink lips. He returns to Sakura’s side, squatting down to lift him by the chin. There it is; that face! The fluttering lashes, knitted brows falling into a tilted worry. Sakura looks absolutely beautiful.
“In that case, I want you to print out every text message sent by Suo. Not just to you. Everyone you can get.” It takes a bit of instruction to print the screenshots, but Endo savors it. He got to touch Sakura’s phone! He wonders what the teen has him saved as. Probably a first and last name, but he can be persuaded to make it cuter. A heart next to his first name would be perfect!
A stream of replies comes from each contact in his phone. Sakura tries not to get overwhelmed by how fast each of his friends text. Nirei has the most messages, but none of them hold any significance. Basic replies no more than a sentence long. Half of them look like text prompts that might appear in the world’s most boring RPG.
Endo reassures that clues can be found even in the most simplest of things. Capitalizing specific letters or words, phrases that turn out to be obscure references. Sakura uses his phone to search Suo’s replies. One of them may be from a play or a movie they can trace back to a person or even a hometown. Creepy, but these are dire straits.
Anzai is the last to send over his minimal texts with Suo. Just 12 in total with six replies from each boy. Sakura sends it to the printer once Endo reloads the paper tray. The first image comes through, revealing a pixelated photo of Suo in a grocery store. A second prints, the same as before but now zoomed in on the items within his basket.
Thumbtacks pin the papers to a cork board with Suo’s school photo at the center. Red yarn strings various points together. A blurry image near a railroad crossing ties to Suo waiting for a bus. Both were taken on the same day with an 18 minute difference. Two photos from a corner store connect to the newly added grocery photos. Endo slaps a sticky note onto each, which lists the purchased items.
“How did you get these?” Some only have Suo out of focus or turned away from the camera. One is from what looks like a junior high field trip. While a group of friends pose with wide smiles and bags slung over shoulders, Suo is already on the bus. He faces ahead of himself, no more than a stranger in the background.
Sakura wonders if anyone pictured thought they were friends with Suo like he did. He thinks about group projects, class activities, all things he once struggled to get through. His classmates hated being paired with him. Many would whisper cheers when their numbers were uneven, forcing Sakura to work alone or with a teacher.
Was Suo ever lonely back then?
“I have my ways. If there’s a lens, I know how to see through it.” Poorly made passwords and unsecured WiFi go hand in hand. Endo once found his way into a guy’s computer at a coffee shop and promptly stole banking information. He was paid a pretty penny for that, and the guy took way too long to order his drink. For that crime, he corrupted a few files and deleted a presentation. Just for funsies.
The two agree that what they have so far is plenty, but not everything. Yarn moves across the board as the pair try to make connections in any way possible. Some feel to be grasping at straws though. Endo might be able to decipher this anorexic puzzle, but for Sakura, he still wonders if the picture on the box matches what they piece together.
A phone vibrates next to the beanbag. Sakura picks it up to reveal a text, which he reads right away.
“Umemiya wants to know if he can drop off food.” Not what he hoped for until a stomach growl reminds Sakura of how long he has spent in Endo’s room. He takes note of the time displayed on his lock screen. Nearly four hours, and he ate a light breakfast due to being in a hurry. No wonder he feels ravenous.
“No can do. We need to keep everything a secret. I’ll cook whatever you want instead.” Endo stares with a deadpan at his computer screen. Nice try, Umemiya. Acting like Sakura’s personal DoorDasher means nothing when Endo is around. He can beat lukewarm slop with his eyes closed.
Ramen, beef udon, yakitori, curry, he knows countless recipes by heart. Takiishi usually wants cheap garbage, but he manages to convince the redhead to eat a decent meal every once in a while.
“Can you make omurice like they do at Pothos? He was gonna stop there.” It hurts to turn down his favorite meal. Sakura tries to keep himself from pouting like a toddler. He craves the damn thing! Momijikawa makes a close second, but Kotoha has a special talent. Maybe she has a secret ingredient no one but her knows.
For some reason, Endo’s expression changes. A cold shiver runs down Sakura’s spine. The AC must have turned on again. When he looks back to the dark haired teen, his absent eyes stare at a note pinned between two text messages.
“He knows your exact order?” Just what are you plotting, Umemiya? Is he taking Sakura out to eat on a daily basis? Pervert. He must enjoy watching underclassmen stuff their faces. Feeding Sakura from his chopsticks with those ugly eyes staring at him. That should be Endo! He can take Sakura to the nicest place in town and feed him spoonfuls of caviar!
Endo clenches his fists. He feels absolutely rancid right now. Umemiya always manages to find his way under people’s skin. Invasive little parasite. Time to flush him out.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I always get the same, so it’s not hard to memorize.” Endo’s imagination is so far from the truth that Sakura would pass out if he heard it. Yet the thought festers, and it pushes Endo out of the bedroom.
“I’ll make you something way better than that crap.” He reaches the kitchen before Sakura can defend the restaurant. Hands rip pots and pans from cupboards. Ingredients slap onto countertops with a chef’s knife clacking against a cutting board.
Mushroom slices no wider than a pencil tip are tossed into a bowl. Bean sprouts join them, along with halved bok choy and spring onions cut like he was dividing a roll of dimes. An egg trio lowers into a pot of water that rolls with rising steam. Pork is laid onto the cutting board. He needs to get another slab out from the freezer to defrost for tomorrow. The slices are even, sized only a millimeter thinner than his pinky. He lays them fat side down, watching it render in stainless steel.
Vegetables join the pork once the outsides are cooked. They stir in the heat, gathering fat while he dusts a seasoning mix on top. Soy sauce joins the pan with a violent hiss next to pressed garlic and ginger. Udon trades places with the eggs, which are dunked into ice water.
The stove lowers to a warm setting. Endo combines his creation into two bowls. Hands roll boiled eggs against the counter so that fingers can peel away the shells. Slicing them in half reveals a perfect yolk. Soft and bright with the right texture to mix into the soup. He organizes everything to be exactly equal, leaving one portion on the idle burner. Takiishi will be home soon.
Endo finds his bedroom exactly as he left it. Sakura sifts through text messages to highlight repeated phrases. One bowl is sat by the computer while the other goes to the nightstand by the bed. He pulls out a table, one imbedded into the structure for this exact situation.
“Here you go, Sakura. It’s made with love~.” And jealousy, topped with two tablespoons of rage. Chopsticks are placed in the teen’s hand while he turns red. Sakura snatched his utensils, glaring with a scurry towards dinner.
“Wh-Whu-D-Don’t say that!” Made with love? How is that even possible? What goes through Sakura’s innocent mind is an image of Endo kissing each ingredient individually. Well, maybe he skipped the pork until it was cooked. No one would be stupid enough to put raw meat to their lips. The thought still snags his breath mid gasp, so he thinks of something else.
Mouthfuls of udon shove their way down his gullet. Sakura barely notices the vegetables until his teeth land a firm crunch onto leafy greens. Whatever. At least they taste somewhat okay. He can leave the majority of them in the bowl once he drinks the broth.
Endo is a slower eater, having only finished half by the time Sakura set his chopsticks down. What a voracious man! He should become Sakura’s private chef. A blush settles onto his face as he begins to daydream.
They walk in after a long day. Endo runs a bath for Sakura, who insists he can bathe himself, but ultimately gives in once he begins scrubbing his hair. He relaxes in the bubbles, allowing Endo to slip away into the kitchen. The meal is timed to be plated right when Sakura descends the stairs in pajamas. Laundry was finished that morning by none other than the tatted teen.
Teeth nibble chopsticks. Endo takes another bite of dinner to keep his imagination from going crazy. Damp hair gluing to Sakura’s smiling face as he dig into the much needed meal. Beautiful eyes sparkling as they raise to meet his teal pair. His blush turning crimson when Endo tries to feed him, and the reluctant acceptance as eyes avert elsewhere.
How can one boy be this cute? Every inch of Sakura is perfect. Hands ache to cup round cheeks and nuzzle their noses. With a life as perfect as that, Sakura will have no choice but to pick him! They can talk for hours into the night about nothing and everything all at once. The last thing Sakura sees before slumber is Endo’s smile. That gaze will belong to him. He promises this to himself.
The mouse clicks twice, and another set of photos are printed. The first came from the corner camera of a motel facing an empty parking lot. Suo’s relaxed face is nowhere to be found. In the second, where the public comes into view, Suo flips back to a cheerful expression. Nirei was right; he really is suffering. All the more reason to chase him down to the ends of the Earth.
Another phone buzz. Sakura pulls his eyes from the photos. Endo faces away from the other, but he can see his reflection in a small mirror on his desk. A smile. Teeth poke out, and the teen utters the slightest giggle. Endo takes a photo of the reflection while he still has a chance before speaking.
“Something funny?”
“It’s a dumb joke I have with Umemiya. Would take some explaining for you to get it.” It revolves around the group home and the antics the kids pull. Someone had a birthday, and they requested a ridiculously complicated cake to celebrate. The text referenced a quote from one of the orphans, fitting with the absolute mess of fondant and food coloring meant to be layered onto a sheet cake. Looks like he bit off more than he can chew.
Endo swallows the last sip of soup. The bowl hits the desk harder than necessary. Of course it was an inside joke. What else does Umemiya have with Sakura? The bastard must be putting the moves on his kohai. Sitting next to him, breathing the same air, touching Sakura—!
Endo swipes an arm across his desk. Papers flutter to the floor with scattered notebooks and pens. His keyboard hangs itself, dangling above his shoes. One hand grips black hair, and the other slams onto the desk, rattling everything atop it. Every time. How is he always one step ahead?!
“What’s wrong?!” Sakura rises to his feet. Did he discover something? It must be horrifying! He survives only two steps before Endo whips around and grabs his wrists. Teal eyes shine with pain while grit teeth let out a snarl. The pair struggle backwards, crashing onto the pristine bed.
The boy gasps and tries to yank himself away. What has gotten into this guy?! Sakura pulls and tugs, but the grip is too strong. Kicks turn out to be useless, for the older teen uses his legs to further pin Sakura. Adrenaline races to his brain, and his breath falls into rapid pants.
“E-Endo?! Let-Let go!” This really was a mistake. Sakura was foolish to think Endo would help him without ulterior motives. His head thrashes, his body writhes, but the grip remains as firm as ever.
Head turned to the door, Sakura parts his lips to scream for help. Would he even get it? He knows only what Endo has shared about his dynamic with Takiishi. The shout dies in Sakura’s throat. Takiishi…would he even bother? The redhead is impossible to read. He could very well ignore Sakura for allowing himself to be ensnared.
His racing heart reminds Sakura of what little time he has to ponder showing a fragment of weakness. He has to try. Maybe someone will hear and come crashing in to save the day. As he inhales to gather his voice, Endo cuts him off.
“It’s not fair!” The power of his shout shakes the bedroom. Sakura buries himself into the mattress to create any semblance of distance between them. His mouth closes, and his head rolls to look Endo in the eyes.
Hurt. All he can see is pure hurt. Endo sniffles, lips pointed downwards as he fights to not outright sob. His eyes are squinted with eyebrows pinched together. Tears drip onto Sakura’s cheek. His own expression twists from fear to concern. The thrashing body lays still, watching the older boy shake with every whimper.
“Every fricken time I fall for someone, he takes them away.” Everyone always talks about Umemiya. Everyone always falls in love with Umemiya. Endo still remembers when the bastard first waltzed into Furin with his posse. Day after day, they wore down what was once a grand school of fighters. Years of honor and glory, wasted!
Some of them stayed the same, but for the others, they changed. They stopped fighting for the hell of it. Everything became a cause or turning over new leaves. What a joke. Half those guys broke bones, and half of them sent people to hospitals. None of them should get to wash their hands and act like upstanding citizens.
Endo opens eyes he failed to realize were shut. Umemiya ruined Sakura. He softened his edges, reducing the teen to a friendship loving weakling. Through his black curls, Endo stares into the other’s soul.
Clipped wings. Trimmed branches. Docked tails. Umemiya never lets things exist as is, does he? He has to be the most selfish bastard in the world, yet everyone flocks to him. The thought alone makes Endo sick.
If only he found Sakura first. Things would have been different, better even. He may have lost Takiishi, but Sakura could have been saved! Fanning the flames of his inferno, Endo would have cultivated a true monster. A being of utter perfection, unrivaled and unrestricted.
“What’s so great about Umemiya?! Why did you let him in?!” One hand releases a wrist in order to claw at the younger’s chest. He yanks the jacket off of him, disgusted by what it represents. Friendship, unity, those things are useless! Endo continues to claw and shake, trying to peel back the layers between them.
How did he even take Takiishi away from him? Endo was here first! He stood at the redhead’s side from the moment they first met. Yet despite that, Umemiya infected his beloved inferno. Takiishi smiles only around him, laughs only with him. Endo buys everything he likes, he would do anything to make him happy, so why…?
Takiishi was unhappy. Endo realizes this now. He was living in a fantasy. A messed up game of house that Takiishi walked away from. Maybe he never sat down to play in the first place. Endo snatched the doll from his hand and refused let go, desperate to fulfill his sick needs.
“W-What are you—?!” Sakura watches the top half of his uniform crumple on the ground in a careless pile. His freed hand slings across his torso, hoping to block Endo’s assault. Red lines form from his collarbone to his navel as if a house cat tried to maul him. Several scratches stutter onto his forearm and sting the soft skin.
It stops, and for that singular moment, Sakura thinks Endo came to his senses. Instead, the man collapses atop him. The wind is knocked from his lungs, and Endo uses his own body to constrict Sakura. His crying face tucks into the other’s neck like a child who just scuffed his knee.
Under normal circumstances, the amount of contact between them would make Sakura freak out. Like this, however, he only feels pity. His pinned arm is pulled from beneath Endo, thankful to no longer have its blood flow restricted. Now to figure out how to release the rest of his body.
“He’s inside. I know he is. You let that asshole inside of you, leaving me to the streets.” Endo speaks against Sakura’s now wet neck. Tears and hot breath soak the skin, and a shudder runs through the younger teen. Endo must have freaked him out. He always does that. Damnit, what a creep he turned out to be.
He used to be normal. He was praised and held in high regards. Endo never realized the sickness within until it was too late. Until he was broken and dirtied beyond repair.
Slowly, he lifts off from Sakura. He puts enough space between them for their eyes to reach one another’s. The rest of Endo still clings to whatever contact remains. Reddened eyes blink away another tear that lands on Sakura’s cute face. Whether he looks angry or terrified, happy or fearful, he always manages to look so cute.
“Tell me what I have to do. Even if it’s disgusting, I’ll do it. Just let me in, Sakura…” Filthy, filthy, filthy. That is the only word befitting Endo. If he could just nestle inside of Sakura, wear his skin and bathe in his blood, maybe he could be clean again. Every punch sullied his fists until he stopped caring who was on the receiving end. He has no honor, no respect for even himself.
He does shady work; he hurts innocent people. Everything he did since meeting Takiishi has only further ruined him. Of course Sakura keeps the door shut and shoos him away with a toss of scraps. He probably feels violated right now. No one wants to be touched by a faggot.
“Endo,” The free hand lifts from the bed. Endo flinches, arm raised to block his face from whatever beating Sakura is about to deliver. Time and time again, the men who hold his heart push him away. The game will end, and his face will kiss the floor in a bloody mess. Umemiya’s open arms will embrace Sakura, and Endo will once more be nothing other than spare parts.
Warmth touches his cheek. Eyes crack open a centimeter to find a palm cupping him. No nails claw skin, and the grip is weak. Sakura has no shot at throwing him off like this. He must consider Endo weakest of all.
“…I’m so sorry.” Lips part in a silent quiver. Sorry? What does Sakura have to apologize for? Endo is the bad guy! He ruined him! His once virgin skin lays marred by scratches. Endo stained silk with sin, degrading it to no more than polyester.
Tears form in his miserable eyes. Sakura thinks Endo is worthy of an apology. The Sakura, protector of Makochi, spotlight of the fighting world, apologized to Endo. This must be true love. Yes, it has to be. His heart throbs at a rapid pace, begging to jump out and lay next to Sakura’s for all eternity. He worships and idolizes, but has he ever truly loved before meeting Sakura?
“I only came to you as a last resort. I didn’t consider how that would make you feel.” A sigh escapes Sakura. He should have known better, done better. Endo deserves that curtesy, even if he can be a handful.
Good thing Sakura has two of them. The hand moves to brush curls out of the way. Talking face to face, bashful as it makes him, is what they both need right now. He finds Endo’s gaze now that nothing obstructs it. Despite how bulky the guy is, he looks so gentle. Just another aspect of Makochi. No one is quite how they seem.
“You’re not lesser than Umemiya, nor are you a backup to him. You’re Endo, and…I appreciate you helping me right now. I hope you can forgive me.” Something flutters within Sakura. Maybe because he stared too long, but the way Endo looks right now is almost ethereal. He could grab Sakura by the throat and snap his neck. A dull ache pangs around his esophagus. Yes, he remembers the rasp in his throat from the war. The sting of oxygen deprivation and spotty vision is a memory that has yet to fade away.
That Endo is gone. The one kneeling over him has a genuine smile with a soft laugh. A wrist wipes away tears. Endo turns his head to nuzzle the arm pressed against his face. Lips lay atop warm skin, not quite a kiss but too intimate to be a thing just for friends.
“You goddamn charmer. I can’t resist you, even if it kills me.” He sinks back down, now hugging Sakura like a normal person. Endo inhales, catching the faint scent of body wash. His nose tilts towards the collarbone, gathering a second sniff. Sandalwood is a good scent on Sakura.
“I-I’ll let you in. You gotta be patient though, and don’t force it, okay?”
Getting hugged and sniffed all at once forces Sakura to feel emotions he really wants to avoid. His stomach is backflipping, and his face burns like he fell asleep at the beach. Hands rest on Endo’s shoulders. He really should push him off now, but this feels…nice. Foreign as love and worship are to him, Sakura would hate to see those things disappear. Especially if they come from Endo.
“Yes!” The man throws his head upwards, looking his crush in the eyes. There goes that smile again. What a crazy personality. From happy to jealous, Endo jumps around at the drop of a hat.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Even if it takes it takes 20 years to fully know you, I’ll savor every second of it.” 20 years with Sakura. Oh, it makes Endo salivate! How will they look when they reach their 30s? Sakura will no doubt become more handsome as the years go by. Chiseled face and bone crushing muscles. Maybe his hair will grow out, and Endo can wake him up by brushing fingers through it.
They can wear matching wedding rings while Endo has coffee and breakfast waiting for Sakura who readies himself for work. When they kiss each other goodbye, it still leaves Sakura with rosy cheeks. When he comes back, they can eat dinner while watching a bad movie. Bedtime is reasonable, and Sakura sneaks a kiss when he thinks his husband is fast asleep.
One day, Endo will turn those thoughts into a reality. For now, their dolls are sat in plastic chairs with paper walls and fake decor. He presses buttons that recreate the sounds of a running shower and a doorbell. The remote controlled car drives them around the playground before pulling back into a tiny carport. For once, someone actually sits down to play with him.
With the night growing, Sakura takes his leave. He straightens his clothes and wipes himself clean. Walked out by Endo, Sakura passes the kitchen. Inside it is Takiishi sitting on the counter while eating straight from the ramen pot Endo left for him. He scrolls on his phone, not caring about any broth that drips between himself and the stove. Strange guy.
“I’ll be in touch if anything significant comes up. He’s slippery, but not evasive.” Standing in the doorway, Endo has a content look on his face. He can find anyone in the world. Suo better have a good excuse for ignoring Sakura and falling off the face of the Earth. To think anyone would have the guts to ignore a heavenly phone call…unfathomable!
“Thank you. I-I’ll pay you back somehow. I promise.” He might be playing with fire, but Endo is his best chance at getting Suo back. Sakura reminds himself of this once more for good measure. Besides, the person who told him to utilize others was none other than Suo himself.
Quite a blunder, if you ask him. Almost too careless to have been from Suo. Sakura has a feeling this story is going to unravel in ways he wishes he never knew were possible. Regardless, he holds his head high and prepares himself for whatever may come.
Life is full of the unpredictable, however, and Sakura could have never predicted that Endo would lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. He also could not have predicted a hand lifting his own to deliver a gentle squeeze.
“That’s payment number one. Next time, I wanna know your favorite movie.” Pulling back, their hands separate. Endo soaks up the reaction from Sakura. His stammering mouth, his shirt lifting to hide his face while he tries to figure out what to do with his feet.
Sakura spins away from Endo, hunched over and trudging down the stairs. That guys is so…so…! Gah! First a confession, now a kiss? At least wait for Sakura to respond or at least catch his breath!
“Y-Y-You have th-that in the w-wrong order! Idiot!” Stupid, stupid, lovesick idiot! Sakura offers a curt wave, shuffling down the street while covering his face with his hands. Endo better come up with good results if he wants to earn that kiss. What is he thinking? Kissing Endo?! Sakura smacks his face and takes off in a sprint. Gotta get home. Gotta pretend like his brain is acting normal and not filling his head with the memory of the shirtless teen. Act normal. Act normal, damnit!
Endo watches the love of his life disappear before finally going back inside. He sits at the computer, focusing on sightings and trails left by the teen. As he drags their work into a new file, an overlooked photo catches his eye. Suo is speaking to someone by the train tracks he frequents. The date is one day before he vanished. Their first clue, and he owes it all to the power of love.