Chapter Text
For as long as he could remember, Sakura Haruka was a monster.
“Look at that hair and eyes,” they would whisper with spite. “Clearly, he’s been possessed by some kind of demon.”
And in another breath, some other voice not human: “Look at that hair and eyes,” filled with fear, “who is that boy acquainted with, and how has he incited so much of their interest?”
Is he possessed by a demon? Or has he been marked by a spirit?
(Neither side knows.)
(And neither does Sakura Haruka himself.)
Sakura Haruka had to learn many things the hard way.
There was a day when he was a child, where he would follow the voice of someone calling for help in the woods, and only get out two months later.
“You should follow the voice of the Kodama like that,” the Yanagi-baba that saved him shoved him back into the realm of the humans, “never stray off the path again if you value your life, human brat.”
When he got back to the orphanage, people hadn’t even noticed he’d been gone.
To everyone, it had only been two days.
(It’s still a long time for a human , a bakeneko once tried to console him. But what did it matter? They didn’t notice, and they weren’t all that happy to see him again.)
They’d probably wished he was spirited away for good, but turns out the spirits don’t want him either.
He learned how to punch back when they took him.
When they whispered sweet nothings in his ears and tried to convince him, “hey, if they don’t want you, I do.”
They never do. Especially in winter— lots of those hibernating spirits are just craving their next good bank of sustenance.
Sakura Haruka is a lot of things. Livestock, he won’t be.
(Sometimes he would wake up, with a spirit’s hands halfway through an attempt at gouging his golden eye right out of its socket.)
So he punched, and most of them would back off. Occasionally when he did, the stronger spirits would laugh. There were always some that only watched him go, never interfering. Those were always too smart to pick a fight.
Those were always the more dangerous ones. Sakura Haruka never spoke to them, he knew could never trust them.
(He trusted one, once.)
(That had been a tough time. He can’t go back to that town anymore.)
If he wanted to ask questions and expect answers that were marginally correct, he was better off beating up some small fry. And even then, they’re not very reliable.
The only person he could trust was himself.
Humans see a monster in Sakura Haruka.
Spirits, too, see a monster in him.
So, what is he, and where does he belong?
“You can’t stay here,” there was once a grandma who could see spirits, just like him. She was the matron of one of the orphanages far in the countryside, and while she hadn’t ostracised him, she hadn’t been particularly receptive, either.
She was a retired exorcist.
And while that meant she was eager to teach him much about the spirits and how to be careful around them— she was also wary of him.
“That abnormality means that someone, maybe your ancestor— or maybe it was you, in another life, made a deal with the spirits. It’s impossible for us to know what kind of deal it was and what were the consequences, but one thing is for sure,” she said. “They’re after your eye.”
No one knew who they could be.
But whatever spirit cursed him— surely, they are looking for him.
And no town wants to be caught up in it. As much as grandma pitied him, she came to this peaceful time for solace. And she did not appreciate someone coming by to stir up the ambience.
So, Sakura never went back to that town either.
Despite everything, Sakura hates himself. He hates how he looks, how he acts— how he’s unable to control how he acts.
And how he’s unable to ignore them all.
Ignore them, he’d remind himself. Humans will always look at you like you don’t belong here, and they will whisper those unfounded rumours back and forth, nothing will stop them. Yelling at them is useless.
But he can hear them, he can see them. Sometimes, they grab and drag him around, poking his eyes and pulling his hair just to check if it’s real, how is he supposed to ignore that?
And if he can’t ignore the humans, how can he ignore the spirits?
He wished they would just all leave him alone.
(But somehow, every one of them thinks he should be the one leaving them alone. So, it’s his fault. It’s his responsibility, and his problem that he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He’s being childish and immature, apparently.)
(Just ignore them, it’s the rational thing. They’ll get tired of it soon.)
(When is soon? When will it come? How long more does he have to live like this?)
“You could just ignore us. It’s better for you.”
He scowls, when the one-eyed demon watches him bandage her bleeding wrists. Sakura cringes, simply tightening the bloodied wrappings better so they wouldn’t fall and expose those gory, dried wounds again.
“Shut the fuck up. It’s just an eyesore.”
He stands, once he’s done. Dusts his knees, and leaves.
He cannot do anything about the seal keeping that spirit there, and he cannot cure the wounds that grow each day as she struggles to break free from that trap, fated to sit there until she dies.
He cannot do anything except wrap those bloodied bandages when they come undone again.
(He can’t shake the feeling that the only difference between him and her is that he hasn’t fallen for a trap that dooms him yet.)
(So, he can’t leave them alone.)
(Humans, when hurt, get help. Spirits, when hurt, get mocked and looked down on as weak. Sakura’s part of the latter. So, he tries to act like the former.)
(Humans wouldn’t accept help from Sakura at all. So, this is sufficiently abnormal and monstrous in its own right.)
(It suits him, right?)
It never gets easier to distinguish between human and spirit, especially when they start acting similarly spiteful just because Sakura infringed upon their territory.
Sometimes he saw solitary wandering spirits, and wondered if he could do that do. They always seem alone, free, and unburdened by expectations, and that absolutely sounded like a dream.
Human children would get reported for going missing, but Sakura wouldn’t have that problem. And he could steal or forage, if he was hungry.
(It didn’t work. Once the spirits found he wasn’t under the blanket protection of the balance between humanity and the spiritual, they went all out.)
(As strong as Sakura was, he knew he couldn’t survive alone.)
(Spirits, after all, weren’t restricted by human limits.)
So what made sense next? All strong spirits survived by being overpowering, and having subordinates upkeep their lifestyle. All lone spirits survived by being unproblematic, and perhaps sometimes useful for information or guidance. All weak spirits gathered under those with influence, so they could become a member of the protected.
Protected? Him? Hah. As if.
There was only one option for Sakura— Growing so strong, no one could defy him. (And then, get your territory and influence, so you can stay at the top comfortably.)
And that brought him to Makochi.
“Are you leaving?”
There’s a little girl at the borders of the town, dressed in a pretty green kimono that matched her adorably pink hair. Her brows flutter like the petals of the cherry blossoms that would soon bloom, and she rolls the temari ball between her palms as she looks up at Sakura.
He considers her.
And says, “I’m not coming back ever.”
Her smile is kind but tinged with sadness. “Yes, perhaps that’s for the best. But I wish you could be here to see the flowers when they bloomed.”
He scoffs.
“I hate cherry blossoms.”
He walks, and never looks back.
Her voice is gentle as she tells him, “I love cherry blossoms, though! So I always wait for them to come back after winter.”
He doesn’t respond. What nonsense. Those stubborn trees could stop blooming forever, he fucking wished. Then people wouldn’t make such noise every damn year.
This town wasn’t horrible, and the spirits were all mostly weak, so they were welcoming of him, eager to make peace with a monster stronger than them for the sake of their continued idyllic lifestyle. It must be because the guardian of the land is so small and gentle as her.
It’s a good place. It offers no protection, but it is not hostile.
But the humans were probably the worst of all places he’d ever been, so Sakura refused to be here any longer. And he’d already decided his next destination— hopefully his last— anyways. No sense in lingering here any longer.
Anyone past this point who causes pain, who brings destruction, who holds evil in their heart, will be purged by Bofurin without exception.
A new town always means a new host of spirits. A new territory, and Sakura Haruka is an invader. So, he expects to be targeted almost immediately. He can’t let his guard down until he establishes his position here, he knows that much. He’s no fool.
Still, the absolute army of windchimes hung upon the gates of the shopping district seemed like a warning.
They repel evil spirits. He can feel it already, and he accidentally meets eyes with the masculine land guardian sitting atop the banner as he views the sign of the shopping district in mild disgust.
One couldn’t go a step in this place without hearing it. What a frustrating noise.
It’s already a bad sign. This means no weak spirits are past this point— only strong ones that, like himself, think the windchimes are a little more than noisy menace. And that means whatever’s beyond this point, they’re probably strong and territorial.
The humans could say ‘evil stay out’ all they wanted, in the end, one couldn’t purge what they couldn’t understand.
But that’s fine.
The weak could stay away. Sakura will find everyone strong here, beat them into submission— and establish his spot at the top.
That’s how he’ll finally achieve that peaceful life he’d always dreamed of.