Notes: This is my contribution for Yukine Week 2016, Day 4: Suzuha. I got the title from one of the sad tracks in Noragami's OST, but rest assured that this doesn't have a bad ending. Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think. Your feedback will be greatly appreciated! :)
Also, here's a big shout out to AlicePaw for being an amazing beta reader and for helping me come up with a will-not-reveal-too-much summary! She's a wonderful person! :)
He watched her as he had done for several days.
Standing from afar, Yukine shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the cherry blossom tree below. He paid no regard to the passersby, who equally ignored his presence, nor to the pink petals swirling languidly in the air. Streaks of sunlight made their way between the leaves of the tree, splattering the boughs with a rich bronze color. His eyes gave a brief acknowledgement of the beautiful scene before him, but his attention was fixed on one person.
Her head bowed, the girl was standing in front of the tree. The spring breeze lifted a few strands of her hair and molded her dress to the curves of her legs. Being too far from her, he could not see what her expression was, but he had this uneasy feeling that her presence was connected to the tree's owner.
Suzuha.
Just the thought of his name brought a familiar ache in his heart.
He was his first friend, a kindred spirit with passion to nurture things around him. A dear friend who, despite a forgotten promise, kept on caring for the sick tree until it bloomed into this majestic vision.
And he was no longer around to see this, to let his eyes soak in its beautiful branches, and to smell the spring air with its subtle hint of cherry blossoms.
Yukine's fingers clenched, his fingernails raking his pockets' inner lining. He felt tears fighting their way to the surface. Not wanting any embarrassing display, he blinked furiously to make the tears go away, and made his eyes focus on the girl again.
Watching her, as he had done for days, sparked a burning need to learn all he could about her. She just stood there, unmoving. Her stillness intrigued him. Why is she here? What is she doing?
"I know what you're up to," said an all-too familiar voice behind him. "Don't think you can pull the wool over these eyes."
Yukine sighed, relaxing his clenched fists as he turned to face Yato. The god stood with a serious expression, his hands planted at his waist.
Though Yukine had matured and controlled his emotions, enough not to blight his master, that stern gaze could still stir a flicker of guilt in him. "I have nothing to hide," he stated. "I'm not doing anything wrong."
Yato raised his eyebrows. He looked where Yukine was staring and, seeing the object of his obsession these past few days, let out a gusty sigh. "Just talk to her already and be done with it."
"I don't intend to make friends with her."
"What part of 'just talk' did you not understand?" Yato snorted. He then added, using his teasing tone, "you aren't interested in dating her, are you?"
Annoyed, Yukine took a few steps closer to him and stomped hard on his foot. Red with rage, he yelled, "I'm not! Stop messing with me!"
"I-I'm just—kidding—Yukine, you—" Yato whimpered between gasps of pain.
"You know about Suzuha. And I know you have an idea what I'm feeling right now!"
"Yes, yes, I understand…" Yato placed his hand on Yukine's shoulder, and smiled. His abrupt change of demeanor no longer surprised the latter. A breeze ruffled his black hair, covering one of his familiar blue eyes for a brief moment before swaying back to its original place. "Go on and talk to her. But come home in time for dinner, okay?"
Yukine met his gaze and nodded. Remembering the look of those eyes that had once regarded him with suspicion, Yato's absolute trust in him now gave him the steely resolve to act on what he had been thinking these past few days.
In a parting move, Yato patted Yukine twice. He then turned around, and disappeared in a flash.
With Yato implying that he had the utmost confidence in him—in whatever he was about to do—he turned toward the cherry blossom tree.
She was still there, as if the past minutes with Yato had not been spent.
Until this moment, he had seen her as something like a butterfly passing through: a fleeting fancy never to be seen again. However, thrice in a row, she was still there—taunting him, urging him to do more than stare at her with each passing day.
Her presence brought back all the pain and longing he felt on his friend's passing. Those feelings that he had kept locked came rushing like water surging through a broken dam. He could not take this anymore. Does she know Suzuha? Who is he to her? He needed to know. He needed that closure.
Aware of a catch in his throat, he started walking toward her. A sudden gush of wind did not even distract him. He made a loud sound of approach, but she did not notice him even when he was finally standing beside her. He was used to this kind of treatment, but there were those rare times when it disconcerted him. This was one of them.
He coughed.
The girl jumped and gasped, visibly startled by the sudden sound he made. Without so much as an introduction, and throwing all manners to the winds, he asked her, "Do you know Suzuha?"
Her jaw dropped. She blinked at him with a puzzled expression, and then looked pointedly at a spot in the tree's trunk—the one she was staring at before his interruption.
"Do you know him? Who are you to him?" He heard himself repeat the question, his frustration simmering beneath the surface of his steady voice.
"I don't know him—"
"For the last three days, you've been coming here—"
"—but I do know the person carved next to his name…" She reached out and touched the carved part where it said "Tomoko."
He was not expecting that. Looking closely, he found a sad expression on her face. Her lower lip quivered once, and then she let out a steadying breath.
Regretting his words and actions, he replied with an apology. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me."
He clearly did not know what to say next.
He should not have spoken with her. He should not have stalked her. He should not have come to this place. He then shifted his body to leave the hell out of here. Away from her. Away from the memories of Suzuha.
"Wait—please—" She reached out to him, grabbing the hem of his shirt. "This Suzuha…is he family? A friend of yours?"
"Yes. A friend. And he's dead," he replied in a deadpan tone.
The upheaval of his emotions must have reached her because she swiftly let go of his shirt, and took a step back. She did not say a single word, but her awareness of the turmoil inside him smoothed the lines of tension from his face.
Feeling guilty, he gave her a small reassuring smile. It was half-hearted, but he did not want to offend her any further.
She let out a sigh of relief, and said in a concerned voice, "I'm sorry about your friend…" Her lips then broke into a timid smile.
Seeing the corners of her mouth, he saw something that he, blinded by emotions, had not noticed before: a familiar longing expression. He had seen it on Yato whenever he was being melancholic or remembering the past. And, judging by the way she regarded him, he must have been wearing one too right now.
"It's alright." He sighed. "It was a long time ago."
She nodded. "This name beside him is my mother. She…passed away last year..."
Yukine had already figured that out as soon as she uttered her first sentence to him. However, at that moment, something else clicked into place. How had he not thought of it right away? If this person knows about the tree then—does this mean Tomoko said something—?
Her sudden movement caught his attention. The slight swish of her skirt made a rustling sound as she sat on the grass and tucked her legs sideways. With her back to the tree's trunk, she closed her eyes. "We both have lost important people in our lives." Her voice sounded pleasant, not too harsh on the ears, like a soothing balm.
"Did—did your mom ever mention him?" He looked up and stared at the cherry blossoms, silently wishing for her to confirm, to hear her say it in that soothing voice.
She did not disappoint. "Once. It was during a thunderstorm when she comforted me with a story." She chuckled. "Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale. She just mentioned this field of flowers near great-grandma's place. And there was a cherry blossom tree that had not bloomed yet…"
At a loss for words, he moved to lean against the trunk, his eyes never leaving the flowers above him.
Hearing nothing from him, she continued, "She told me she found a friend. He was the caretaker of the flowers and he showed her all the ones he had grown. Before going back to my grandparents, she promised him she will see the cherry blossoms with him…"
"She broke that promise."
"I…figured as much," she said in a sad voice. "The next day, I wanted to hear about the beautiful flowers and her gardener friend again, so I asked her about it. But she had no idea what I was talking about. She got so angry and said I was just making it up."
Yukine's eyes widened at each revealing statement. The Near Shore people mostly forget about them. In spite of that, it was a miracle that Tomoko, at an all-too-brief point in her life, had remembered Suzuha. Except for Hiyori and her brother, such a thing was unheard of. Even Tomoko's daughter here would forget about him, and will only remember this place from her mother's long-forgotten summers.
They continued their silent reverie, each lost in their own thoughts. It was a long while before she broke the silence.
"To be honest, I've forgotten about it too until mom's death. I've been obsessing about her story for months, and that's why I finally gathered the courage to come here. I mean…I kept thinking 'was it all true? Did I just dream about it?' But it seemed so real…and when she said it, I was so moved. I can't describe exactly, but I—"
Her abrupt stop made him look at her. She had turned around and was looking at the tree with a curious expression. Her eyes seemed fixed on Suzuha and Tomoko's names as if a fog had just cleared, and she was realizing something now.
A tear slowly trickled down her cheek.
"Are you okay?" He reached out to her.
She wiped her eyes and took her time standing up. She was looking at him now.
"Thank you for worrying. It's just that I suddenly remembered mom and why I felt her story was special. I've been here for three days but it's only now that I've realized…when I've said it aloud…" Her voice trailed but continued with, "You've felt—you understand these feelings, don't you?"
He nodded. Oh, how well he understood. More than you'll probably ever know.
"I must be going now. The next train will depart soon. Thank you—" She gasped. "Oh, I didn't ask your name! I'm so sorry—"
"I'm Yukine." She will forget him, just like her mother, but he said it nonetheless.
"Yukine…it has a nice ring to it." She smiled. "I'm glad I met you. My name is—" Her eyes glanced fleetingly at the carved names before continuing. Her next words felt like a sledgehammer hitting his knees.
"My name is Suzuha."
She then gave him a wave, but he was too stunned to return the gesture. If he had been paying attention, he could have even heard her whisper, "I think I was named after your friend."
His knees gave out, and he felt them hit the ground. He stared at the trunk before him with unseeing eyes, his brain blank. He did not even hear the crackling sound of her feet on the dried leaves nor notice the bewildered look she gave him before turning away to leave.
The passing minutes turned to hours. A crow cawed from a distance, and a few cicadas had just started their screeching song. Despite the unusual encounter that had just taken place, the humdrum of life around him appeared unaffected.
He looked up at the branches. The flowers were gently swaying in the breeze, their dance loosening a few petals that slowly drifted down.
Tomoko remembered. She named her daughter after you, Suzuha.
The tears that he had been trying to hold back now fell.
But they were not from sadness.