I opened my eyes, greeted by the nostalgic sight of the maple tree swaying gently under the morning sun. And there we were—me, Sakura, and Taiga—our younger selves, sitting together. Taiga was gently patting Sakura's head as she napped beside him. She looked peaceful, and I couldn't help but smile at the moment, though my heart weighed heavy with old memories.
"Look! Sakura is smiling!" Taiga's voice was filled with excitement.
I leaned closer, catching her soft murmur. "Hoon…" she whispered.
My name. She said my name. Was she dreaming of me?
"She must be having a bad dream!" Taiga exclaimed with his usual boyish optimism. He always tried to see the best in things, no matter what.
Back then, I had a choice, and I made the wrong one. I remembered my words clearly: "Taiga, Sakura likes you too." I lied, knowing full well the truth. I was hiding behind that same maple tree when I saw Taiga confess to Sakura. My heart clenched when she rejected him—then shattered completely when she admitted she liked me instead.
I ran away, unable to face what I had caused.
And then, tragedy struck.
When Taiga's body was found lifeless in the forest, everything changed. Sakura, once vibrant and strong, became quiet and withdrawn, carrying the weight of guilt on her fragile shoulders. She believed it was her rejection that pushed him to that desperate act. But I knew the truth. It was me—my lie, my cowardice—that had destroyed him.
Taiga had always been our protector, the one shielding us from the shadows. Yet we never realized it until he was gone. And without him, Sakura became a target. She bore the brunt of their cruelty, enduring their harsh words and mockery while I stood by, helpless.
I couldn't take it anymore. I had to act.
The sight of her desk one morning filled me with rage. Insults like "Emo," "Go die," and "Your face is ugly" were scrawled across it in crude, childish handwriting. They were just kids—weren't they? How could they be so cruel?
I had to do something, and I decided to make myself their new target.
I grabbed a tray of milk and soup from the cafeteria and made my way toward the group of bullies. Pretending to stumble, I "accidentally" spilled the food all over their uniforms.
"What the hell is wrong with you, bastard?!" one of the girls yelled, her voice sharp and venomous.
The ringleader—a tall girl with an imposing stature—led me to the back alley, away from prying eyes. Her two lackeys followed, eager to join in.
They beat me without hesitation, landing punches and kicks while I gritted my teeth, refusing to make a sound. But then the tall girl pulled out a box cutter, her grin twisted and wicked.
"Hey, wanna try it out on your wrist? Maybe you can join your little friend Taiga in the afterlife," she sneered.
Her words cut deeper than the blade she waved in my face.
I stood there, trembling but silent. They tore at my clothes, leaving me humiliated and shirtless. When I returned to the classroom, Sakura's horrified expression said it all.
"What happened to you?!" she whispered, her voice quivering with concern.
"It's nothing," I said with a forced grin. "I just tripped."
No one believed me, of course, but no one asked further. They never did.
The torment continued. The girls dragged me behind the school almost every day. One practiced her taekwondo on me, landing powerful kicks that left bruises all over my body. Another girl, dressed like a gyaru, mocked me incessantly, making me wear embarrassing outfits just to amuse herself.
But it was the third one, Yuzuki Akigawa—the quiet one with silver hair and glasses—who unsettled me the most. Her intelligence made her cruelty calculated.
"How about you give us some money?" she proposed one day, her tone sweet but chilling. "We'll go easier on you, and maybe… maybe we'll leave Sakura alone."
I froze. They were still targeting Sakura? My sacrifice hadn't changed anything?
"…Fine," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "I'll give you the money."
What followed was a descent into something darker. I begged, borrowed, and even stole to meet their demands. At first, I convinced myself it was for Sakura. But deep down, I started to enjoy it—the thrill of manipulation, the rush of lying.
I became addicted to the act.
One day, I got caught stealing from a grocery store. When the police confronted me, I broke down and told them everything—the bullying, the blackmail, the threats. They let me off with a warning, promising to handle the bullies.
But nothing changed. No one stepped in. The cycle of torment continued, and I was left to fend for myself.
Then, one day, the bullying stopped.
I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was something to do with Yuzuki. Maybe they just got bored. I didn't care. All I knew was that Sakura was still broken, still trapped in the shadows of her guilt.
I had to do something to lift her spirits.
Walking into the barbershop, I knew what I wanted. When the barber asked how I wanted my hair cut, I didn't hesitate.
"Give me a buzz cut," I said firmly.
It was the same cut Taiga had always worn. Maybe, just maybe, this small act could help me carry his memory forward and bring Sakura a little closer to the light.