Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sakura woke to the buzz of his phone against his cheek, the screen nearly sliding off his futon and onto the floor. His eyelids peeled open slowly, sticking with sleep. The bright morning light filtering through his window only made his head throb harder.

[1 New Message — Endo Yamato]

He blinked. For a moment, he considered pretending he hadn't seen it. Maybe if he ignored it long enough, the guilt knotting in his stomach would dissolve.

They’d fought like hell during the Noroshi war. Bled, limped, and probably gave each other a concussion. Endo had been acting pathetic, so—like an idiot—Sakura had promised to keep in touch.

“Damn it,” he muttered, tapping the message.

ENDO:

yo. u still alive?
let’s spar.
bring attitude. not backup. 🖤

Sakura sat up so fast he got dizzy. “Spar?” he repeated aloud, scoffing. “That bastard wants me to kick his ass again?”

He could practically hear Endo’s smug voice in that message. The nerve.

Cracking his knuckles, eyes gleaming with indignation, he started typing with enough force to crack his screen.

SAKURA:

i’ll kick your teeth in.
where. when.

He hit send, then tossed the phone onto his futon like he hadn’t just woken up early on a weekend to fight someone who gave him stomach cramps.

Outside his window, birds chirped sweetly.

Sakura didn’t hear them. He was too busy imagining knocking Endo’s smug ass into the pavement.

Endo let out a triumphant wheeze as Sakura’s reply lit up his phone screen.

SAKURA:

i’ll kick your teeth in.
where. when.

He read it three more times for good measure, his entire chest blooming with joy. A stupid, lopsided grin stretched across his face as he spun in a slow circle in the middle of the living room, humming tunelessly under his breath like a man in love—which, frankly, he was.

From the couch, a pillow smacked him square in the back of the head.

“Shut up,” Chika grumbled from the couch, where he was curled under a thin blanket like a cranky burrito. His hoodie was pulled low over his face, only the tips of his dyed-orange bangs sticking out.

Endo barely flinched. He caught the pillow as it slid off his back and tucked it under his arm. “You don’t understand, Takiishi. This is fate. This is the power of promise-keeping. This is romance. This is—”

“Annoying,” Chika cut in flatly.

Endo snorted and plopped onto the armrest beside him, pulling on one sock, then the other—bright blue on one foot, neon green with bananas on the other.

Chika peeked out from under his hood and immediately recoiled. His upper lip curled like he’d just smelled something foul. “What the hell is on your feet.”

“They’re lucky,” Endo replied proudly, wiggling his toes.

“They’re stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

Chika picked up the same pillow and raised it again like a threat.

Endo leapt to his feet, grabbing his phone off the coffee table. “I gotta go pick Sakura up,” he said quickly, typing out another message to Sakura.

ENDO:

heading your way. Be ready. 💖

The reply came fast.

SAKURA:

don’t come. i’ll meet you there.

ENDO:

too bad. already got my shoes on. 😘

He threw on his jacket and paused near the door. “We’re going to the fair—y’know, the one with the haunted house, the big-ass roller coaster, the spinning ride that makes people barf?!”

He turned, expecting no response. Chika usually didn’t care about half the things Endo blabbered on about. 

But to his surprise, Chika sat up slowly, hair sticking out in all directions. He rubbed his eye with one hand and yawned.

“I wanna go.”

Endo froze.

“You—huh?” he blinked.

“I wanna go,” Chika repeated tonelessly, standing up and stretching like this was just another Sunday.

“You—you wanna go with me ? And Sakura? Like together?”

“Yes.”

Endo stared for a long second, then lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh my god ,” he whispered. “This is—this is like a date .”

Chika raised a brow.

“With both of you! Together! Fair date! You and Sakura and me—” He pressed a fist to his mouth, overwhelmed. “I’m gonna cry.”

“You better not,” Chika warned.

But Endo already had mist in his eyes, wiping it away with his sleeve as he beamed. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Chika rolled his eyes, but didn't argue as he stalked off to glam himself up.

Sakura groggily yanked on his usual white T-shirt, the fabric clinging awkwardly until he tugged it into place. His skinny jeans felt like a punishment. Every muscle in his body ached from being awake this early on a weekend— for Endo , of all people.

He stomped into the bathroom and viciously brushed his teeth, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. “Stupid snake,” he muttered between scrubs. “Dragging me outta bed for some half-assed rematch—he better be ready to get folded.”

His phone buzzed again on the sink counter. Another heart emoji from Endo. 

Fuckin’ weirdo .

Sakura spit and ignored it.

He was halfway through putting on his jacket when he heard it—bass-heavy, tinny, obnoxious music blaring from somewhere outside. The kind that made small animals scatter and old people shake their fists.

His eye twitched.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Storming down the steps of his building, he turned the corner just in time to see a sleek, shiny convertible parked out front. Something flashy and ridiculous—deep red with black rims and more horsepower than necessary. It screamed Endo Yamato owned this with delusional pride.

Sitting in the driver’s seat was Endo himself, one arm slung over the door, bobbing his head to the beat like he was the star of a music video. His grin was wide enough to split his face.

In the passenger seat, lounging like he owned the place, was Chika. He was dressed to the nines. 

Like a supermodel , Sakura thought.

“What the hell,” Sakura snapped, stomping toward them. “Turn that crap off before I throw you into traffic!”

Endo reached over and lowered the volume slightly—only slightly. “Morning, sunshine~!”

Sakura scowled and yanked the door open, climbing into the backseat without waiting for permission. “What the hell is he doing here?” he asked, jerking his chin at Chika.

Chika didn’t even look at him. He was chewing chips from a bag of spicy chili flavor, sunglasses low on his nose. “I wanted to,” he said tonelessly, crumbs falling onto his lap.

Sakura blinked. “You—what?”

Endo leaned back with a grin so smug it made Sakura’s fist twitch. “I invited you to spar, technically , but what I meant was—we’re going to the new fair downtown~! The one with the ferris wheel and the haunted house. Takiishi’s coming too. Isn’t this awesome?”

Sakura stared at him.

Then at Chika.

Then back at Endo.

“You dragged me out of bed for this?!” he exploded. “I thought we were fighting !”

“Emotionally bonding is a fight, in a way,” Endo said, eyes twinkling.

“This isn’t a fight! This is a—” Sakura’s voice caught on the next word. “This is a setup ! Are you trying to call this a date or something!?”

Endo’s smile turned sickeningly sweet. “Glad you said it first~.”

“It’s not a date!” Sakura shouted, face flushing hot.

Chika munched on another chip without flinching.

Endo hummed happily and pulled away from the curb, music rising again with the wind. “Off we go~! Just three guys, heading to a totally normal, definitely-not-romantic day full of sugary snacks and poorly maintained thrill rides!”

Sakura sank into his seat, arms crossed, ears red.

Worst start to a fight he'd ever had.

By the time they rolled into the theme park parking lot, Endo was practically vibrating in his seat like a shaken soda can. He was bouncing his leg, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and humming the third different anime opening that morning.

Sakura, on the other hand, looked like he’d spent the entire ride contemplating the logistics of launching himself into oncoming traffic. The only thing that had stopped him was the warm, greasy scent of fried food drifting in the air the moment they got close.

He sniffed once—then tried not to let it show how hungry he suddenly was.

Still, his voice was sharp as ever. “You didn’t say anything about it being this crowded.”

“It’s opening weekend!” Endo beamed. “We gotta do everything!”

“Kill me.”

They walked up to the main ticket booth, Endo practically skipping ahead while Sakura trailed behind, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched like a kid being dragged to the dentist. Chika followed silently, sunglasses still on, the remains of his chip bag had been crumpled and thrown onto the floor of Endo’s polished car.

At the counter, Endo turned to them with the excitement of someone announcing the lottery numbers. “Okay! So—how many tickets do we want?”

Sakura scowled. “Lowest one.”

Endo blinked. “Seriously?”

“I’m not staying long,” he muttered. “I’m just here for the food.”

Chika, without missing a beat, raised one hand and pointed to the highest number listed on the price chart.

Sakura stared at him like he’d just confessed to murder. “You what ?”

Chika popped a piece of gum in his mouth and shrugged. “I like rides.”

“You’re such a freak.”

Endo clapped his hands together. “Wow, we’ve got a full spectrum of commitment here! I love it.”

He leaned over the counter with a grin. “We’ll take three of the biggest ticket packs you’ve got!”

Sakura gawked. “You’re buying that ?! That’s, like—way too many—are you rich?!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Endo said cheerfully, slapping a black card on the counter. “I’m investing in memories.”

“Investing in debt ,” Sakura muttered, but it was already too late.

With the tickets purchased and wristbands handed out, Endo turned with a flourish and held out a hand.

“Alright, team! Let’s GO!”

Sakura made the mistake of not moving fast enough—and in seconds, Endo had hooked their arms together and was physically dragging him toward the gates like an overeager babysitter.

“Let go—!” Sakura hissed, tugging back. “I can walk just fine!”

“You could ,” Endo said brightly. “But you weren’t , sooo…”

Chika followed a few steps behind, deadpan and unbothered as always, watching the spectacle unfold with the mild amusement of someone watching ducks fight over a french fry.

As the gates opened and the park’s colorful chaos spread before them, Endo let out a giddy little laugh.

“This is gonna be the best date ever!”

“It’s not a date!” Sakura shouted again, nearly tripping over his own feet.

His heart beat loudly in his chest

Fuck. I'm gonna die today, aren’t I?

The second they passed through the gates, Sakura’s nose twitched.

The warm scent of buttered popcorn, sizzling meat, sweet fried dough, and fresh curry buns hit him like a truck. He turned sharply, eyes locking onto a row of food stalls like a predator spotting prey.

“Food,” he said firmly. “First.”

Endo blinked, startled by the sudden shift in tone. “Wait, already?”

“I haven’t eaten!” Sakura snapped. “You dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn like some kind of lunatic! I’m getting food or I’ll actually die.”

Endo laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, okay—but if you eat now and then ride the spinny ones, you’re gonna yack all over yourself.”

Sakura froze.

Endo grinned innocently. “Just saying. That was me, last time. Twice.”

Chika nodded solemnly behind him. 

Sakura made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “Ugh—fine. Whatever.”

He turned on his heel and stomped toward the nearest ride line instead, arms crossed, face crumpled in a perfect picture of pouty resentment.

Endo watched him go, utterly smitten. “He’s soooo cute when he’s mad,” he whispered, practically vibrating. “Like a tiny, furious tiger.”

“Creep,” Chika muttered, walking past him to follow.

“Let me have this.”

Sakura stood stiffly in line, his foot tapped impatiently against the pavement as he stared at the ride with the kind of focus people usually reserved for bomb defusal.

It was some spinning monstrosity shaped like fancy teacups.

He already regretted everything.

Chika stood on his left, arms folded loosely, watching him out of the corner of his eye. The sun caught in Sakura’s hair—black on one side, bone-white on the other—and lit up the strange mismatch of his eyes, gold and blue.

He looked like a comic book character, all sharp edges and weird grace, like someone pulled out of a different world.

It was weirdly aesthetic. Unique.

The ride was loud before it even started — a cacophony of whirling metal, the low hum of the machine working its magic.

Sakura swallowed hard, glancing at the giant, colorful teacups. He’d never been on any ride before. The idea of twisting and spinning so fast made his stomach tighten.

Endo noticed immediately.

He grinned, nudging Sakura’s shoulder. “You scared, little tiger?”

Sakura scowled. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” Endo teased. “You’re practically vibrating from nerves.”

“I’m not .”

Endo chuckled but softened his tone. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be cool about it. I’ll be right here.”

He reached out and grabbed Sakura’s hand before Sakura could pull away, squeezing it gently.

“Besides,” Endo added, eyes shining with excitement, “you have us. We’ve got you.”

Sakura hesitated but reluctantly allowed Endo’s hand to stay. They handed their tickets over before hopping up onto the ride’s platform.

Across from them, Chika was already settled in the seat, arms crossed, giving them a sharp glare that silently shouted, Hurry up and get in .

Sakura slid next to Chika with a reluctant shuffle, his legs bouncing now.

Chika’s eyes flicked down, and without a word, his hand slid onto Sakura’s knee, stilling the motion.

“That’s annoying,” Chika muttered, his voice low and rough.

But his hand didn’t move.

Sakura’s cheeks flamed hot, and he glanced sideways, surprised to meet Chika’s steady gaze. There was something in that look—calm, curious, like Chika was savoring the moment.

Endo bit his lip, eyes darting between them, trying hard not to interrupt the unexpectedly tender scene unfolding right in front of him.

A park worker’s voice called out, “Please hold on tight! The ride’s about to start!”

The metal gate slid shut with a firm clang.

Sakura’s eyes widened, a flicker of real fear crossing his face.

But... he thought, it can’t be that bad if kids are going on it too.

I’m not a wuss.

He squared his shoulders, just as the ride began with a soft jolt, the giant teacup they sat in slowly turning as the base platform picked up speed. Sakura tensed at first, gripping the handlebar in front of him like it was a lifeline.

But as the motion smoothed out into gentle spinning, he blinked in surprise.

“Oh,” he muttered. “That’s… it?”

It wasn’t terrifying. Just a dizzy sort of drifting, like floating sideways. The wind whipped past his face, and the sounds of laughter and squealing kids filled the air. Not bad . Kind of… nice.

He allowed himself to breathe a little and risked glancing over to check on Chika.

To his surprise, Chika had a small smile on his face. Not smug or sarcastic—just real. Barely there, but real. He looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself.

Sakura blinked again, lips parting slightly.

Then the ride sped up .

Sakura lurched to the side with a startled noise, gravity shoving him against Endo’s shoulder. Before he could recover, Chika shifted too—casually leaning in from the other side and unintentionally sandwiching Sakura between them.

“Wha—!?”

Endo laughed, bright and open, wind whipping through his hair. “You okay down there, tiger?” he shouted, his voice half-lost under the whir of machinery and the shrieks of other riders.

Before Sakura could yell at him, Endo slid his arm around his waist, pulling him in closer like he weighed nothing.

“Don’t fall out now! I need you for the bumper cars later!”

“Shut up !” Sakura snapped, face burning as he tried to wriggle free—but the centrifugal force made it impossible. He was stuck, body tilted into Endo’s side, Chika pressed against his other side like a very solid, very silent wall.

His fists were clenched, his legs squished, and his entire face was red.

He wanted to punch someone. Mostly Endo.

But beneath the sheer humiliation, something fluttered in his chest—something warm and light and dizzying in a different way than the ride.

Chika’s hand rested against his knee still, grounding him. Endo’s laugh was too close, too happy. And for a second, Sakura forgot to be angry.

The ride finally came to a screeching, whirling halt. The gate creaked open with a metallic groan, and Endo leapt out, dragging Sakura with him, arm still locked tight around his waist.

“Victory!” Endo shouted, eyes wild with joy. “I survived, and I got to snuggle a tiger the whole way!”

“Let go of me, freak—!”

Sakura’s fist collided with Endo’s stomach in a solid punch—not hard enough to actually hurt, but enough to make Endo wheeze and release him with a theatrical gasp.

“Worth it,” he coughed, doubled over and laughing.

Chika stepped down from the teacup behind them, brushing invisible dust from his shoulders. “I’m hungry,” he grumbled.

“You just —” Sakura started, remembering the entire bag of spicy chips Chika had inhaled during the car ride.

But instead of pointing that out, his eyes lit up. “Food. Yes. Finally.”

He almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to walk beside Chika, his legs moving too fast for his balance.

Endo snorted behind them, watching the way Sakura rushed ahead. “Cute,” he muttered to himself, grinning.

They made their way toward a long row of colorful food stalls. Steam and smoke curled into the air. The scent of grilled meats, fried batter, sugar syrup, and caramelized onions overwhelmed the senses.

Sakura stopped in front of one of the stalls, eyes wide, body stiff.

There were too many signs. Too many smells. Too many people yelling for combos and dipping sauces and dessert sets.

He squinted at the menu like it was written in code.

“Okay,” Endo said, sidling up beside him as they shuffled forward in line. “What’re you getting?”

Sakura shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “Dunno. I’ve… never had this stuff before.”

Endo blinked. “Wait. Any of it?”

Sakura gave a small, awkward nod.

Chika, standing to his other side, gave him a subtle side-eye. He didn’t say anything, but his brow raised slightly—mild interest.

Endo, on the other hand, looked like someone had just told him Santa Claus wasn’t real. “Okay. Okay. I can work with that. It’s kinda cute. I'll be taking your junk food virginity.”

“Don’t say that out loud!” Sakura hissed, face burning.

“I’m getting you everything ,” Endo whispered.

“I will leave.”

But Sakura didn’t leave. He ended up ordering the simplest thing on the menu—a corn dog, straight and safe. Meanwhile, Endo and Chika ordered like men with no self-restraint.

They found a shaded table nearby, Chika immediately sitting down with a tray of loaded nachos, ignoring everything else he’d ordered.

Sakura had barely taken a bite of his corn dog when Endo plopped down across from him, surrounded by a mountain of snacks.

“Try this,” Endo said, holding out a piece of pizza.

“No.”

“Come on —open up—”

“I have a corn dog!”

“Live a little!”

Sakura was already blushing, clearly overwhelmed, and it didn’t help that Endo kept shoving bites of food toward his face with that same teasing smile. Chika didn’t even look up, slowly eating nachos like none of it concerned him—though his eyes occasionally flicked over, catching every reaction.

Sakura took the bite in defeat, chewing furiously to avoid talking. He was red down to his collarbone.

Endo leaned back, satisfied.

“See? You like it.”

Sakura didn’t answer. It was good, he could admit. Not to Endo, though. Just to himself.

Sakura was halfway through his corn dog now, a little more relaxed, still flushed from the onslaught of snacks. He tried not to look too interested in the cotton candy Chika had quietly pushed in his direction—or the way Chika’s leg was subtly angled toward him under the table.

Endo, still riding some sort of emotional high, leaned forward on his elbows, chin in his hands.

“So,” he started with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “What’s your favorite color?”

Sakura blinked. “Huh?”

“Favorite color,” Endo repeated, kicking his feet a little. “Mine’s yellow. Or pink. Or, like, glitter.”

“That’s not a color,” Sakura said flatly.

“Don’t dodge the question, little tiger.”

Sakura glared before glancing over at Chika, who seemed to be immersed in his meal. He eyed the older boy's hair before shaking his head and focusing back to the question at hand. 

“Red.”

Endo gasped. “Oooh, that makes sense. You seem like a red kinda guy. Eye-catching, beautiful, red is my favorite color too—”

“Shaddup!”

Endo ignored him entirely, leaning in closer. “Favorite animal?”

Sakura blinked again. “...Birds.”

“Cool!”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m trying to get to know you better!” Endo said brightly, clearly delighted. “We fought each other. You caught my interest. It’s only right I know your favorite genre of music .”

Sakura hesitated. “...I haven’t really listened to much.”

Endo gasped like he’d just heard a federal crime. “ What?! ”

Chika side-eyed him.

Sakura’s grip on his corn dog tightened. “I didn’t grow up with music, okay? Shut up.”

“No, no—it’s okay!” Endo waved his hands in a panic. “We’re gonna fix that. I’ll make you playlists. I’ll introduce you to everything. Rock, pop, girl groups, anime openings—oh my god, this is amazing—!”

Sakura’s eye twitched. “How do you live with this?”

The question wasn’t even meant to be serious, but he turned to Chika, genuinely baffled.

Chika didn’t hesitate. “He buys me things.”

Sakura choked on his corn dog.

Endo, meanwhile, lit up like a star. “You guys are talking about me,” he whispered dramatically, heart visibly full. “You’re bonding. Gossiping. This is incredible .”

“It’s not gossip if it’s true,” Chika muttered, sipping his drink.

Sakura groaned and slouched back on the bench, shoving the rest of the corn dog in his mouth before Endo could try to feed him another bite of anything. But he didn’t move away from them either. In fact, he felt a little... lighter. Like maybe this wasn’t the worst setup in the world.

Not a date, he reminded his heart firmly.

Definitely not a date.

The sun hung high overhead, heat shimmering off the pavement and warming the air just enough to make the breeze feel like a blessing. The crowded park buzzed around them—kids yelling, bells ringing, machines whirring, and snack vendors shouting over each other with practiced flair.

Sakura walked just slightly behind the two, eyes flicking from side to side, trying not to look too impressed as they passed rows of colorful game stalls and rides lit up with gaudy lights and spinning signs.

He was impressed, though.

It was loud, ridiculous, and chaotic. But it was kind of… fun. The colors, the music, the sparkle of everything around him—it was different from anything he grew up with. And maybe, if no one was looking, his expression softened for half a second.

The sights around him made his eyes widen and his steps slow.

Endo walked backward in front of them, arms behind his head, grinning like he lived there. “Alright, what’s next, dream team? Haunted house? Shooting gallery? Romantic tunnel of doom?”

Chika didn’t answer. He simply raised a hand and pointed.

Sakura followed his finger—and felt his soul immediately exit his body.

Towering in the distance was the biggest ride in the park: a high-speed, steel monstrosity of twists and vertical drops. It gleamed under the sun like a death trap.

“Are you insane ?” Sakura barked. “We just ate!”

Even Endo looked uneasy. “Yeah, uh, I’m gonna have to veto that one unless you want a front-row seat to my lunch flying through the air.”

He braced himself, expecting Chika’s usual response—a shove, maybe a dead-arm punch, or a flat-out glare.

But instead, Chika glanced at Sakura, watching the way he looked at the ride with a mix of panic and disbelief. Then, without a word, he dropped his hand and turned away.

Sakura blinked.

Endo blinked.

Chika started walking.

Sakura exchanged a confused look with Endo.

“He didn’t hit me,” Endo whispered.

“He should’ve.”

They trailed after him, their pace slower now, all three moving aimlessly through the noise and color. Sakura kept looking around, eyes flitting from one booth to the next, caught in the visual overload.

Then something stopped him in his tracks.

A small, weathered booth lit by old yellow bulbs. Rows of balloons in different colors were pinned to the back wall like a rainbow target. A cluster of cheap-looking plush prizes hung above. The sign read: “Balloon Darts – 3 Pops = Prize!”

Sakura stared.

“You want to try it?” Endo asked.

Sakura scoffed. “What? No. It looks stupid.”

But he didn’t move.

Chika had already stepped forward, holding out the ticket strip to the attendant before Sakura could say anything else. Without a word, he walked up to the booth and waited.

Endo gave Sakura a playful nudge. “C’mon, tiger. Let’s pop some balloons.”

Grumbling, Sakura stepped up to the stall and took the offered darts. He lined up, narrowed his eyes, and threw.

And missed.

Next one—miss.

Third—he hit a balloon! But it didn’t pop. The dart bounced off the surface and clattered to the ground, taunting him.

“Are you kidding me?” Sakura hissed.

Chika popped three balloons without blinking, then stepped aside like it was nothing.

Endo tried next—and hit the wall. Then the floor. Then, somehow, the rim of a trash can nearby.

“Wow,” Sakura muttered, arms crossed. “You’re worse than me.”

“I am , aren’t I?” Endo said brightly, completely unfazed. “It’s amazing.”

He flung another dart overhand like he was chucking a grenade. It arced high, hit the top of the stall, and dropped onto the counter with a sad thunk .

The booth worker just stared at him.

Sakura tried not to laugh. Then he failed.

“You’re so pathetic,” he said, snorting.

Endo beamed. “Yeah, but I made you laugh. So who’s the real winner here?”

“Me.” Chika held up his prize—a small stuffed frog—rubbing the thing in Endo’s face before turning on his heel to find the next game.

Sakura turned away so they couldn’t see his face—but the tips of his ears were red.

The afternoon wore on with no signs of slowing down. The air grew stickier under the sun, but the boys kept moving—darting from one booth to the next like they were on a mission to bankrupt the entire prize economy.

Endo was the loudest of the three by far, tossing rings and swinging hammers and shouting battle cries like he was storming a castle. He kept bouncing between Chika and Sakura, flinging arms around their shoulders, poking fun, flirting like a fool.

“Hey, tiger,” he called, nudging Sakura with a wink. “If I win you a prize, will you blush for me?”

“I don’t blush ,” Sakura grumbled, glaring straight ahead with pink creeping up his ears.

Chika didn’t say much, but he wasn’t tuning out either. His eyes kept tracking Sakura—watching him carefully, catching every subtle twitch of his mouth, every spark of emotion that flickered across his usually guarded face.

Sakura laughed once—barely—but it was real, and Chika looked down for a second like he was saving the sound.

They tried a few more booths. Chika cleaned house at the ring toss. Endo epically failed at the milk bottle knockdown and somehow got himself tangled in a fishing game string, much to the booth owner’s horror. Sakura won nothing, but each loss just made him more determined.

“You have the worst aim I’ve ever seen,” Endo teased after Sakura missed another target by a wide margin.

“I’ll aim at you next.”

“ Promise? ” Endo grinned.

At a booth lined with bright plastic hoops and stuffed animals dangling overhead, Endo stepped up to take a turn. He barely looked like he was aiming—but when he tossed the final ring, it landed perfectly around the pole. The bell rang.

“Boom!” Endo shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Winner!”

He turned and held up the prize—a small, slightly ugly plush tiger with a lopsided face.

He handed it to Sakura without hesitation. “For my favorite little tiger.”

Sakura stared at the plush, then at him. “You’re so annoying.”

But he didn’t give it back.

Chika, standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, watched the exchange in silence. His eyes lowered to the tiger in Sakura’s arms. Then, slowly, he stepped up to the next booth over.

It was a simple prize booth—one where you threw rubber balls to knock over stacked cans. Chika stepped up without a word, handed over a few tickets, and took the offered balls.

He barely adjusted his stance before tossing the first one.

Clang.

Three cans down.

Second ball— clatter. The rest toppled like it was nothing.

The booth worker raised an eyebrow, then handed Chika a tray of prizes to choose from. He scanned it once, then picked out a small, round plush shaped like a white bird—plain, soft, and a little squishy.

He walked back over and held it out to Sakura.

Sakura blinked. “...Is this for me?”

Chika shrugged. “You said you liked birds.”

Endo practically melted into a puddle behind them, hands over his heart. “Are you guys flirting right now? Am I witnessing a moment ?”

Sakura turned away, flushed and panicked. “We are not —!”

Chika whacked the tattooed man upside the head before Sakura could finish.

They’d been at it for over an hour now—wandering from booth to booth, the sun creeping higher in the sky, the crowd thickening, and the air growing dense with the smell of fried sugar and sunscreen. By now, Sakura had collected a small army of losses under his belt.

His competitive streak had suffered.

Brutally.

But then—they found it .

A booth lined with wooden boards and a row of clunky plastic water pistols attached to a long table. Behind the counter, clown heads on rotating targets wobbled back and forth.

“Water Blaster Showdown – First to Fill the Tube Wins a Prize!”

Sakura squinted at the sign. “That’s it. I’m winning this one.”

“Confidence,” Endo said, grinning as he leaned against the booth, sliding tickets to the man running it. “Hot.”

Sakura ignored him entirely and dropped into one of the seats, gripping the water gun like it owed him money. Chika slid into the seat next to him, silent as usual. Endo took the last spot, clearly more excited about the competition than the prize.

The bell rang, and they were off.

Sakura lasered in . No distractions. No blinking. Just raw spite and an overwhelming urge to win something, anything , before he went home.

His water stream was dead-on. The tube filled faster than he thought it would. The bell dinged.

“Player two wins!”

Sakura blinked.

Then blinked again.

“I won ?” he said aloud, dazed.

“You won! ” Endo echoed, clapping. “Tiger supremacy!”

Sakura scowled. “Shut up .”

The booth worker handed him a tray of prizes—cheap plushies, colorful trinkets, novelty hats. He stared at it for a long moment before making his selection.

Then, wordlessly, he shoved a fuzzy lemon-shaped keychain into Endo’s hands.

Endo blinked. “A gift? For me ?”

Sakura looked away. “It’s payback . You gave me that dumb tiger, so I’m giving you this.”

“Oh my god,” Endo whispered dramatically. “He’s thinking of me even when he wins. I’m gonna cry.”

“Shut up. ”

Then Sakura turned to Chika and held out a small plush bat—dark gray with little fangs and wings stitched crookedly.

Chika took it, expression unreadable.

“You got me a bat?” he said flatly.

“You’re nocturnal and rude,” Sakura said. “It fits.”

Chika stared at the plush for a beat too long.

Sakura crossed his arms, red in the face. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t make it weird.”

Endo was already fanning himself dramatically. “He’s giving us tokens of his affection,” he gasped. “This is a date.”

“I will drown you with the goldfish.”

Chika, still quiet, glanced at the bat again. Just the tiniest twitch of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Endo slung an arm around Sakura’s shoulders, bouncing on his toes. “Let’s get you another win, little tiger. You’re on fire. ”

Sakura grumbled, but didn’t move away.

“…One more,” he muttered, already stalking back toward the water gun booth. “Just to prove it wasn’t luck.”

Endo perked up. “Oh? Who’s this one for, huh?”

“No one!” Sakura snapped, sliding into the seat like a man on a mission. “It’s just—shut up.”

The bell rang again, and he immediately blasted the target dead center, not even flinching this time. Another clean win. Then another. Then another.

By the time he was done, the booth attendant looked mildly spooked by his determination.

Sakura stood with a small pile of novelty keychains in his arms, sorting through them with the focus of a military tactician.

He muttered under his breath as he shoved each one into his bag.

“For Nirei,” he said, dropping in a green frog with a goofy expression. “He likes dumb things.”

He held up a sleepy-looking sloth in a tiny hoodie. “Kiryu. Whatever.”

A red fox with pointy ears and a smug smile followed. “Suo, I guess. He’s annoying.”

Then, after a long pause, he held up a sparkly jellyfish with oversized eyes and hesitated.

“…Tsugeura,” he said finally. “No clue why. It just feels right.”

Endo leaned in, eyes shining. “You’re seriously picking out keychains for everyone? That’s... kinda cute, not gonna lie.”

Sakura scoffed and rolled his eyes, but his hands lingered on each one just a second longer than necessary as he tucked them into his pocket.

“It’s not a big deal,” he muttered. “I’m just making use of the only game I can actually win.”

Chika watched him silently, the plush bat still half-visible in his pocket. His eyes drifted to Sakura’s hands—how carefully he treated the keychains, his palm resting over them in his pocket almost protectively.

Endo clapped him on the back. “You’re just full of surprises today, Sakura~.”

Sakura scowled at him. “Keep talking and I’ll surprise you into the pavement.”

But his ears were tinged pink again.

And neither of the other two missed it.

But he didn’t stop smiling—not really. Not even when Endo looped his arm around him again, or when Chika fell into step beside them, silent but just a little closer than before.

Somewhere near the middle of the park, tucked between two food stalls and a shady grove of trees, they found a row of public lockers—small, metal compartments lined up like miniature vaults.

“Finally,” Sakura muttered, shifting his prizes from one arm to the other. “I’m not carrying this crap around all day.”

Endo opened a locker and started cramming in his collection of prizes—half of which he’d somehow won and the other half he’d snuck into his arms by sheer charm and chaos.

Chika was more efficient, neatly stashing his stuff one on top of the other, making sure nothing fell.

Sakura hesitated a second before placing his things in the locker.

“You sure they’ll be safe in there?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“They lock, don’t they?” Chika replied flatly, twisting the dial shut.

Endo leaned against the lockers and gave him a thumbs-up. “If anyone tries to mess with your prizes, I’ll body slam them into next week.”

“I’ll do it myself, jackass.”

They were about to move on when Sakura froze.

A sound carried faintly over the general whirr of the park—just a soft, shaky hiccup. Then another. His head snapped to the side.

A little girl stood a few yards away, half-hidden between two snack carts, her face blotchy and her cheeks streaked with tears. She clutched a small coin purse in both hands, trembling, and looked completely overwhelmed by the crowd swirling around her.

People passed without a second glance.

Sakura stiffened.

Something in him reacted instantly—tight-chested and hot, protective and sharp. He didn't even think.

He just moved.

Before either boy noticed, Sakura had already stepped away from the lockers and into the crowd, slipping toward the girl with quick, purposeful strides.

He didn’t notice Endo calling for him. Didn’t see the way Chika turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing as he realized they’d lost him.

Sakura crouched down near the girl, voice low and hesitant. “Hey. You okay?”

She blinked up at him, lip trembling.

“My… I lost my sister,” she sniffled. “She was holding my hand, and then… and then she wasn’t.”

Sakura's expression softened in an instant.

He’d been that kid before—dropped, forgotten, trying to swallow his panic before it swallowed him .

“Okay,” he said, quiet and even. “We’ll find her. But you gotta stick with me, alright?”

She nodded, eyes wide and wet.

Behind them, the crowd moved on—none the wiser.

And Sakura, without realizing it, had wandered out of sight.

The little girl clung tightly to Sakura’s hand as they moved through the crowd, her sniffles quieting bit by bit with every step. Sakura kept his eyes scanning—checking faces, looking past strangers, listening for anyone calling out a name.

“What's your sister look like?” he asked gently.

“She has a yellow backpack,” the girl murmured, voice small. “And pink hair ties. She said we could get cotton candy but I let go of her hand to look at a toy…”

Sakura made a soft noise of understanding, the sort of sound he didn’t realize he knew how to make.

They rounded the corner of a shaved ice stand, and there—near the edge of the parade area—stood a panicked teenager pacing in frantic circles, clutching a pink phone and scanning the crowd.

“There,” Sakura said, nodding.

The girl gasped and tugged at his hand. “That’s her!”

“Go on.”

She sprinted, calling out with a tearful voice. Her sister turned, eyes wide with relief, and scooped her up immediately, hugging her so tight it almost knocked the smaller girl over.

Sakura stayed where he was for a beat, watching.

The older sister looked up, caught his gaze, and mouthed a breathless, “Thank you.”

He gave the faintest nod, then turned to walk away.

It was only when he made it halfway down the nearest row of snack stalls that it hit him.

He stopped in his tracks.

The lockers were gone.

The food stand was unfamiliar. The vendor here was someone he hadn’t seen earlier. He spun in place slowly, eyes flicking across the endless rows of stalls and rides and people—all looking the same, all too loud, too bright, too much .

"...Shit."

The pulse of the music and the crowd seemed to close in. He wasn’t panicking—he refused to panic—but there was a low, crawling annoyance growing steadily in his gut. What once was a fun fray of bright lights and loud noises, looked like the swirling pits of hell.

He pulled out his phone.

No signal.

Of course.

He tried calling Endo anyway. Straight to voicemail.

“Seriously?” he muttered.

He jammed the phone back into his pocket and huffed, squinting around him again. Nothing looked familiar. Every booth was identical to the last. The crowd just kept pushing.

Sakura crossed his arms and stood stubbornly in place for a long moment, jaw clenched.

He was not going to look like a lost child. He was not going to ask for help. He was not —he swallowed hard—going to start freaking out just because he lost sight of a couple of loud idiots.

Sakura exhaled sharply and pushed forward into the crowd, trying to retrace his steps.

But it was harder than he remembered.

The booths all looked the same. The people pressed in closer now, louder somehow. And without Endo’s obnoxious voice or Chika’s steady presence beside him, the park didn’t feel fun anymore—it felt like an endless maze.

He muttered under his breath, “I swear to god, I’m going to kill Endo for this.”

Then he kept walking, trying to keep his shoulders squared—even as his pace grew quicker, a little more uncertain with every turn. 

The farther Sakura walked, the harder it became to breathe.

Everything looked the same—flashing lights, twisting booths, an ocean of strangers with nowhere to go. Voices overlapped like static in his head. Too much noise, too many colors, too much movement. His chest tightened.

He stopped suddenly, unsure which direction he’d come from anymore.

“Stupid,” he hissed. “Stupid fair, stupid crowd, stupid—”

He rubbed his eyes quickly with the back of his wrist. If the stares from a few passerbys meant anything, he looked every bit as panicked as he felt.

He turned on his heel, ready to stalk off again—

—and felt a light tug at the back of his shirt.

He flinched and spun around, wide-eyed.

Chika stood behind him, quiet as ever, one hand still loosely holding the edge of his shirt. His face was unreadable, but his grip said enough.

Sakura almost cried on the spot.

Relief hit him like a punch to the gut, stealing his breath. He looked away quickly, trying to mask the way his eyes stung.

Chika didn’t say anything. He just jerked his head to the side in a silent come on , then turned and started walking.

Sakura followed without question.

They slipped into a quieter area of the fair, off to the side near a shaded bench tucked behind an ice cream vendor. The noise dulled there, like the world had turned down the volume just for them.

Chika pulled out his phone, already tapping the screen.

Sakura stared. “You have service?”

Chika didn’t look up. “Hotspot.”

“…What?”

Chika glanced at him, then back to the phone. “Internet. From my phone.”

Sakura furrowed his brows. “You can just… do that?”

A silent shrug.

“Oh,” Sakura muttered. “Cool. Yeah.”

He sat down next to him, heart still hammering but slowing now, the tight coil of panic in his chest gradually loosening. He didn't understand how someone like Chika—so intense, so unreadable—could make things feel quieter , but he did.

The world didn’t feel as loud with him around.

Even when Chika gave off overwhelming energy, being near him was… grounding.

Before Sakura could say anything else, a blur of frantic movement approached.

“Sakura Haruka,” Endo barked from across the path. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?!”

Sakura flinched as Endo stormed over, out of breath, cheeks flushed. He dropped to a crouch in front of him and grabbed his shoulders like a mom scolding her runaway toddler.

“You can’t just disappear like that! What if something happened?! What if you got snatched up by a pack of rogue mascots?! What if—what if I never found you again?!”

Sakura opened his mouth, but the words caught. His throat clenched.

“I was just—she was crying, and—” he blinked fast, but a few tears escaped anyway, stubborn and hot. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to help.”

Endo’s face softened immediately.

“Oh… oh, no , don’t cry, little tiger,” he said, reaching up and brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “We just got scared when we lost you, okay?”

Sakura sniffled. “You’re the one who got lost, not me…”

Endo sat down beside him and threw an arm around his back. “Exactly. We got lost. But we found each other again. Like destiny.”

Chika let out a single, almost-silent breath that might’ve been a laugh.

Sakura leaned into Endo’s hold a little—just a little.

Just enough.

The chaos of being separated had drained something out of them—just a little. So after a round of reassurances, some more shoulder patting, and Endo’s desperate insistence that yes, he really was about to cry, the boys found themselves strolling through a quieter stretch of the fair.

Sakura’s breathing had evened out. The crowd no longer pressed so close. And with the late afternoon sun casting everything in gold, it finally felt… peaceful.

Until they passed the haunted house.

It loomed at the corner of the row, towering with fake gargoyles and blaring screams on a loop. The sign above the entrance read: “THE FUNERAL FUNHOUSE — No refunds for emotional trauma!”

Sakura paused in front of it, eyeing it thoughtfully. “Huh. Looks stupid. I wanna try it.”

Endo nearly choked. “ Absolutely not. ”

Sakura blinked at him. “What?”

“You almost got spirited away by the gods twenty minutes ago. I’m not letting you walk into an actual horror zone before I get at least ten more selfies with you.”

“I wasn’t lost, I was—!”

“ Denied, ” Endo said, pulling Sakura by the sleeve as he marched him away from the entrance. “We are officially in soft-recovery mode. No fear. Only fluff.”

Sakura spluttered, face red. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

Chika, walking just behind them, glanced toward the haunted house, then back at Sakura. “You would’ve cried.”

“I would not— !”

“Absolutely would’ve,” Endo agreed, smug.

Great. You cry once and now you’re a crybaby for life , Sakura thought with a pout.

They turned the next corner—and found something better anyway.

The House of Mirrors sat quietly in the next lot, tucked between a kiddie rollercoaster and a cotton candy stand. Its shimmering panels reflected the sky, and the entrance twinkled with lights spelling out ILLUSIONS AWAIT! in bold lettering.

Sakura narrowed his eyes. “...This better not be lame.”

Endo cracked his knuckles. “I’m gonna conquer my own reflection.”

They stepped inside.

Chaos followed.

Almost immediately, Endo slammed into a mirror with a bonk so loud it echoed. He groaned and rubbed his forehead, then took two more steps and did it again.

“WHY ARE THEY SO CLEAN,” he shouted, dazed.

Sakura laughed. Not a small scoff or snort—an actual, full laugh that made him double over, clutching his stomach.

Chika, on the other hand, glided forward like he’d been there before in another life. He barely made a sound as he walked, never once hitting a wall. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t slow down. Just silently disappeared deeper into the maze like a mirror-dwelling ghost.

“Why is he good at this?” Sakura asked, squinting.

“That's my Takishii for you , ” Endo sighed wistfully, smudging a fingerprint trail behind him.

Sakura took a few steps forward and thunk —smacked directly into a panel.

He yelped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Endo cackled from the corner. “Welcome to the club, tiger.”

“I swear if one more stupid fake wall attacks me, I’m burning this place to the ground,” Sakura hissed, stomping forward—and hitting another mirror.

“ That’s it. I’m gonna commit a crime.”

Somewhere ahead, Chika was already at the maze exit, watching them calmly like a cat who'd been born in the labyrinth.

Sakura glared at him through five distorted reflections. “ Stop judging me! ”

Chika raised an eyebrow. “I’m not. You’re doing that to yourself.”

“I hate this place.”

“You love it,” Endo sing-songed, walking directly into a mirror again. “Ow—worth it.”

And despite himself, even as his cheeks flared with heat and his pride crumbled with each collision, Sakura couldn't stop smiling despite his earlier embarrassment.

These jerks aren’t so bad.

By the time they stumbled out of the house of mirrors, slightly dizzy and very embarrassed, the sun had begun its descent. The sky glowed warm and orange, casting everything in soft gold.

Sakura, still catching his breath from laughing too hard, looked toward the towering swing ride spinning gently above the treetops. The chains glittered in the light, seats swaying high above the fair.

“…Can we ride that one?” he asked, voice casual—but his eyes stayed locked on the sky.

Endo and Chika both paused, caught off guard.

Endo lit up. “Hell yes we can.”

Chika raised an eyebrow, giving Sakura a sideways glance. He didn’t say anything—but nodded once, as if approving a bold declaration of war.

They made their way to the line, which wasn’t too long at this hour.

Endo, ever the motor-mouth, launched into an excited ramble about centripetal force and how one time he thought he flew so high on a swing that he transcended reality. He inched closer to Chika every few seconds, nudging against his arm like a puppy trying to sneak affection.

Chika didn’t even look at him. He just calmly raised his hand and smacked Endo on the side of the head with a thwack .

“Worth it,” Endo whispered, still grinning.

He eyed Chika a moment longer, noticing the faintest curve to his mouth. Chika was… in a good mood. Relaxed, even. It made Endo want to spin him around like a princess. But he valued his life.

Instead, he looked back at Sakura—who was staring up at the ride again.

He didn’t look scared, exactly.

Just… serious.

When it was finally their turn, Endo immediately raised his hand. “I call sitting next to little tiger.”

Sakura rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Chika, as usual, said nothing and claimed a swing one seat away from them.

The worker walked by, tugging at the safety straps and chains, making sure everything was secured. Sakura watched the process intently. His fingers gripped the swing’s sides a little tighter than necessary.

Then the ride began to rise.

Slowly at first.

But steadily.

The ground fell away beneath them, and Sakura’s eyes widened with every meter.

“…It’s high,” he said quietly.

Endo glanced over—and saw the way his knuckles had gone white on the chain.

Without a word, he reached out and laced their fingers together.

Bold. Simple. Warm.

Sakura glanced down at their joined hands, his mouth twitching, face turning a light shade of pink—but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed back, just barely.

The view was… something else.

The entire fair stretched beneath them, glowing with lights and movement. People milled like tiny dots below. Food carts steamed. Music floated faintly up to them. From up here, it was all just peaceful noise.

Sakura took a deep breath, the wind brushing through his hair.

“…It’s kinda pretty,” he muttered.

“Right?” Endo said softly, grinning.

Sakura didn’t respond, but his ears were already turning pinker.

Then the swing jolted—and they began to spin.

Faster and faster, their seats tilted outward from the momentum. Sakura let out a half-yelp, half-laugh, instinctively kicking his legs out.

He felt the wind rushing past his face, tugging at his shirt. It felt amazing.

He grinned. Actually grinned.

“You gonna puke, old man?” he shouted toward Endo over the rush of wind.

Endo pulled a face, clutching his stomach. “Don’t tempt me! I’ll aim right for you!”

Chika, a seat over, glanced over with a grimace.

But he watched them—watched Sakura —the whole time.

Chika turned his head away, towards the wind. His eyes fluttered closed, feeling the breeze against his face. He smiled.

The swing ride began to wind down, gradually slowing its high arcs into gentler turns. The wind died down little by little until it was just swaying quietly while lowering them down bit by bit, the fair lights blinking below.

Sakura’s heart was still thudding, not just from the adrenaline—but because, somewhere between the sky and the blur of colors below, he’d forgotten he was holding Endo’s hand.

His gaze darted down to their joined fingers, still tangled together.

Still warm.

Still… steady.

His breath hitched slightly, cheeks warming. He didn’t say anything, just stared until the ride finally came to a full stop and the worker unhooked their safety latches.

The moment they were on solid ground again, Sakura snatched his hand back like he’d touched something electric, clutching it to his chest with a scowl.

Endo, entirely unbothered, grinned like a cat that’d caught something nice.

“You can’t just grab people like that,” Sakura muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t hear you complaining while we were spinning through the sky,” Endo shot back, bumping his shoulder into Sakura’s with exaggerated flare. He was gentle, though.

Chika hopped down from his swing without a word, brushing hair out of his eyes. He didn’t comment, didn’t tease—but something about the amused flicker in his gaze said he’d noticed the hand-holding too.

The three of them made their way back into the crowd, weaving past booths and crowded lines, the scent of fried dough and caramel thick in the air.

Endo stretched his arms over his head. “Alright, one more ride before we call it a night. Gotta end with a bang, right?”

Sakura frowned. “…Already?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but the disappointment was plain in his face.

He’d just gotten used to the noise. To the warmth. To the three of them together like this.

Chika, watching him, caught that expression.

Without saying a word, he looked up—and pointed.

The Ferris wheel towered above them, glowing softly in the dusk like something out of a dream.

Endo raised his brows. “ You wanna go on the Ferris wheel? After begging for that monster drop ride earlier?”

Chika didn’t even blink.

“It’s because the big one would’ve been too scary for Sakura.”

Sakura’s head whipped around. “ What? ”

Endo gasped dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. “ Oooohh , he called you out!”

Sakura turned scarlet. “Shut up! I wasn’t scared! I just… I wasn’t prepared , okay?!”

Chika shrugged, the corners of his mouth quirking faintly. “Mhm.”

Sakura sputtered, trying to find a comeback that didn’t make him sound like a liar or a child.

He failed.

So instead, he stomped toward the Ferris wheel line in a flustered huff.

Endo jogged after him, laughing the whole way. “You know he’s just trying to pick something you’d actually enjoy, right? Like a gentleman.”

Sakura didn’t respond, but the red across his cheeks didn’t fade, either.

Chika followed a few steps behind, quiet and unreadable—except for the unmistakable softness in his eyes when he glanced toward the other two.

The line inched forward, the glow of the Ferris wheel casting long shadows and flickering colors over their faces. Endo talked the entire time—half-narrating their night, half-pestering Sakura with harmless jabs about their “moment” on the swings.

Sakura swatted at him once, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was still red around the ears.

Chika, true to form, said nothing—but his rare little smirk didn’t go unnoticed.

Eventually, their turn came.

All three hopped into a cart—Sakura sliding in first, Chika following to sit beside him, and Endo flopping down across from them with a grin that suggested he’d claimed the best seat in the house.

The door latched shut with a soft click , and their cart swayed slightly as the ride began.

They climbed slowly, the creak of metal faint under the music of the fair below. Lights twinkled everywhere, painting the night with gold and blue and pink.

Endi continued to blabber away as Sakura leaned forward slightly, gripping the side of the cart as they rose, watching the people grow smaller beneath them. His eyes were wide—not with fear, exactly, but something more complicated. A quiet awe. Or maybe it was nerves.

Next to him, Chika turned his head just enough to watch him. There was something curious in his gaze, something like… fond.

Sakura didn’t notice.

Endo did, though.

His voice faded mid-sentence as he took in the sight across from him—Chika silently observing Sakura, and Sakura with his hair tousled in the breeze, the usual tension in his shoulders gentled by the light and the height.

Endo sat back slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.

He hadn't planned for the day to go like this.

Inviting Sakura out had been a great decision on his part. Chika coming along was just the biggest cherry on top.

He hadn’t expected Sakura to be so open, or Chika to be so patient, or himself to feel so warm just watching the two o f them like this.

But gods—he was so, so glad it did.

The cart rose higher, past the halfway point. The air was cooler up here. Calmer.

Sakura finally leaned back in his seat, exhaling a little shakily. “This isn’t so bad,” he muttered, almost like a secret.

Chika’s shoulder brushed lightly against his. “It's pretty.”

Sakura glanced sideways at him, then looked away fast. Chika wasn't looking at the view.

Endo’s smile widened.

Yeah. This had turned out to be a very good day.

The ground shrank beneath them, the swell of the fair turning into a sea of distant color and noise. From up here, it all looked small—like a dream made of light and movement. Sakura pressed his knees together and leaned forward just enough to rest his arms on them, eyes tracking the glow of the rides and food stalls and crowds. It felt like watching a memory unfold in real time. Distant. Beautiful. Too big to hold.

He swallowed.

How had he even gotten here?

Not just to the top of this ride, but here . To this point—laughing beside Endo, following Chika around like a little duckling would. Carrying dumb little keychains in his pockets because it felt like the right thing to do.

His fists curled tightly in his lap.

He thought of the games, the water spraying everywhere and his stupid grin when he actually won. He thought of the little girl’s hand in his, and the panic he felt when he realized he’d lost them .

Of Chika’s hand tugging on his shirt, and Endo’s voice lecturing him like a worried parent.

His ears burned.

He didn’t want this day to end.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut, and he shook his head fast, like he could physically throw the thought away.

But when he looked up, he found Chika already watching him.

Their eyes met.

Sakura froze.

Chika didn’t look away, just tilted his head slightly in that way he did when he was trying to understand something. Or someone.

Sakura’s face flushed instantly. His shoulders hunched, his fists tightening even more. He looked away fast, focusing hard on the tips of his shoes.

Damn it.

Chika really was gorgeous. It wasn’t fair.

He dared another glance up—this time at Endo, who sat opposite them with one arm slung across the back of the seat, legs spread like he owned the cart, like there wasn’t a single thing in the world that could knock him off balance.

And somehow, Sakura felt his stomach flip again.

Endo was attractive too.

He stared at the ground again, pulse roaring in his ears like the wind.

What the hell was happening to him?

He didn’t have time to answer the question. The cart gave a soft lurch, rocking gently at the very top of the wheel.

They’d reached the highest point.

Everything went quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that wraps around you and makes the world feel very far away.

Sakura breathed in, just once, and felt like he was on the edge of something.

Maybe falling. Maybe flying.

He couldn’t quite tell.

Endo leaned forward, his elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped together, chin resting on top like he was about to deliver the punchline of some long-winded joke. That smirk on his face was a warning all on its own.

Sakura eyed him warily. “What.”

Endo’s smirk widened. “You know,” he drawled, voice all smug amusement, “they say people usually kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel.”

Sakura lurched in his seat, practically throwing himself back against the metal siding. “ What— !”

Chika blinked beside him, clearly not expecting that either. He turned just enough to watch the train wreck unfold, his expression unreadable—except for a glimmer of something vaguely entertained in his eye.

“I’m just saying,” Endo continued, full of mischief, “it’s tradition. You wouldn’t want to disrespect tradition, would you?”

“ You’re tradition!” Sakura stammered, ears red, limbs stiff like a cat caught mid-pounce. “Wh—No one said anything about kissing, you idiot—!”

Endo leaned in, eyes gleaming. “You’re the one who looks like you’ve been thinking about it—”

“ Shut up! ” Sakura practically yowled , trying to shrink into himself, his knees drawn in, his shoulders up to his ears. “Get out of my space, perv!”

Endo threw his head back and laughed, retreating just enough to give Sakura air. “Man, you’re easy to tease. It’s like a reflex.”

Sakura looked like he might combust.

But then—maybe it was the height. Maybe it was the day. Maybe it was the fact that Chika was right there beside him and hadn’t said a word, hadn’t laughed or teased or rolled his eyes, just kept watching, still and quiet.

Sakura swallowed.

His gaze flicked briefly to Chika. Then back to his lap.

His voice came out small and rough, like he’d barely managed to force it out.

“…I might be down for a kiss… next time.”

Silence.

Endo froze . His cocky grin vanished like a puff of smoke. His eyes went wide, and a little color rose high on his cheeks. “Wait— what ?”

Sakura's face looked like a tomato now.

Endo sat up straight, blinking fast, then let out a nervous little laugh that was about three octaves higher than normal. “I—I mean. Damn. Okay. That’s… wow. Cool. Cool cool cool. No big deal. I’m chill.”

Sakura glanced up, catching the way Endo was suddenly very interested in the ceiling of the cart. His grin was all teeth, but his ears were bright red .

Chika, meanwhile, raised a brow—clearly entertained. His mouth curled into something lazy, a little crooked and pleased. He looked at Sakura again, eyes hooded with amusement and something warmer beneath.

“…That so?” he murmured.

Sakura practically folded in on himself, fists clenched in his lap, his whole body a shade too hot for the night air. “Don’t make it a thing, dammit , ” he grumbled.

But Chika was still watching him, the edge of his tongue running slow along the inside of his cheek like he was considering something. The weight of it made Sakura’s pulse stutter.

And Endo—well. He was now aggressively adjusting his sleeves like it was the most natural thing in the world, trying not to trip over his own cool-guy act.

“Yeah,” he said with a cough. “No big deal. Just, uh… good to know. File that away for later. Not that I’m thinking about it. Or anything.”

Chika snorted quietly.

The cart rocked a little as they crested the top, the city lights stretching out beneath them.

And for just a second, it felt like the air between them had shifted.

The ride began its descent, the gentle creak of metal and faint hum of machinery filling the air as the cart swayed ever so slightly. Sakura stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the lights below, but his thoughts were screaming .

What the hell was that?

Why did I say that?

Why did I say that out loud?

His ears were burning, shoulders hunched, and he didn’t dare look at either of them as they unloaded from the ride. Feet back on solid ground, he shuffled forward, stiff and embarrassed, fully ready to bury himself in a trash can and stay there forever.

But then—Endo’s fingers brushed his.

Sakura blinked as Endo laced their hands together without a word. When he looked up, Endo wasn’t grinning like an idiot or teasing him or playing it off with some dumb line. He just looked at him with soft eyes and the sweetest smile Sakura had ever seen.

Before Sakura could melt into a puddle, Chika stepped to his other side, wordlessly falling into step with them. Not ahead like usual. Not dragging them from place to place. Just beside him—quiet, warm, present.

Sakura’s brain promptly short-circuited .

He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. His mouth didn’t work. His heart was hammering like it wanted to tear out of his chest.

But for once, it wasn’t fear or adrenaline making it beat that way.

They wove through the crowd together, Endo’s hand still in his, Chika a silent comfort on his other side. They retrieved their silly prizes from the lockers, juggling them between each other with lazy smiles and light teasing, before finally heading toward Endo’s obnoxiously shiny, very expensive car.

The night air was cool against Sakura’s face. The sound of laughter and distant music fading behind them.

The night had come to an end, but something else was just beginning.

Something a little terrifying, and maybe, just maybe…

Something really good.

~End.

~Extra

Sakura slammed his bag on the desk with more force than necessary.

He unzipped it like it owed him money, pulled out four plush keychains, and held them in his hands like they were live explosives.

“Here,” he muttered, thrusting them out. “Don’t make a big deal.”

His friends blinked. Then descended.

“Frog!!” Nirei snatched it immediately, already beaming. “He looks like me!”

“Ohhh this sloth is adorable —is this mine?” Kiryu gasped, already clipping it to his bag.

Suo turned the little fox over in his palm, smiling softly. “Cute.”

Tsugeura held up the sparkly jellyfish and nodded. “This glitters. I approve.”

“Where’d you even get these?” Nirei asked, eyes wide.

Sakura stiffened. “…Fair.”

“You went to a fair ?” Kiryu leaned forward, voice teasing. “With who?”

Sakura’s ears went red. “None of your business.”

Suo smirked and nudged Sakura lightly. “So… did you go on a date?”

The room went completely silent.

Sakura’s face flushed deep red, and he muttered, barely able to look up, “…Yeah. It was.”

Everyone blinked, caught off guard.

Huh?