Rumors aside, a practical getaway car a broom does not make. There's no trunk space, and nowhere to sleep, which was kind of important if you were living out of your vehicle. Yet as many times as she explained it and even apologized, Sakura could still glance up at the rearview mirror and see ol' Singe sulking in the back of her van, purposely rolling around to make as much noise as possible. It was a tattered old thing, with faded ribbons, hair ties, string, spider webs, and whatever else she could find to fill its edges, woven with the sort of loving care desperation bred. Even strands of her hair held it together, and her old ringlets glistened when the streetlights deigned to poke their heads in through her windshield. There was water damage and the ends were burned yet Sakura knew in her heart of hearts, she would never have another. A rose quartz pendant swayed above her dash, occasionally dancing to the tune of the potholes.
"How about, as soon as I get settled, we'll take a midnight ride? Just the two of us?" That got Singe bolting upright, ignoring the displeased sounds of her front seat companion. "Really, really." She darted her eyes from the road to the bird. "And you, your wing is still healing, and you can hardly fly with just one." The reassurance kept the broom still and sent the raven to sulk once his glare proved ineffective. In the distance, Sakura spotted the beginnings of the town, almost meshing with the sky for how their lights shined like a cluster of stars. The town sign twinkled into existence from her headlights before it flickered out just as fast as they drove past, leaving only the impression of sea-stained wood. Further out still, a shadow punctured the moon, a lone sentinel stationed along the shore. The old lighthouse. The sight of it inspired a conflicted storm in her belly, the sort that promised destruction and salvation in equal portions that she felt too full to devour. They were seasoned with a nostalgia that had no right to be there.
The van began to coast as she took her foot off the gas to get a better look, only to jerk forward on the brakes in a screeching stop, yanking bird, and broom forward as pain erupted in her arm. It was as white and hot as a blacksmith's brand. Cursing, she made sure they were alright but remained frozen, all the while her fingers dug into the steering wheel, knuckles pearly as her forearm burned beneath the bandages. Beneath the gauze, her skin popped and sizzled. Shakily, she shifted into park to take a moment, unconcerned about any late-night traffic, and rested her forehead against the wheel as she gave a rasping count. At sixteen it began to cool, and her breath was hers again. A concerned chirp broke through and she smiled weakly at him from between her arms. Singe leaned in with their bristles fluffed up in alarm.
"I'm okay," she breathed out before she straightened and urged the van into gear and back down the road. Entering the town wasn't dizzying, light and sounds didn't threaten to drown her like they did in the first city she came to. The signs floated in the evening fog like idle clouds, bright but not screaming. Almost dream-like. One did, however, catch her gaze and she came to a more planned staggered stop, a reluctant smile curving and dimples creasing. A neon piece, it blazed blue as a paintbrush swept over the store's front glass, and beneath it in loopy lettering was, Pigments of Your Imagination. Upon closer inspection, she realized It was a tattoo parlor. Sakura had never seen such a place up close before or gone inside one, but her curiosity was piqued. At Karasu's caw, she cocked her head and smiled at them. "I'm fine, but I am curious. Just a few minutes, okay? I promise." She parked, grabbed her bag, and headed inside. Even halfway across the parking lot, she threw out assurances over her shoulder like salt. Sakura didn't need eyes on the back of her head to know that the avian was watching, beak to the glass.
Once upon a time, Sakura only caught glimpses of ink from the arms of guards, or when one slithered up their necks, peek-a-booing from between their armored plates. Here, they may as well be as common as bricks but regardless, Sakura loved to look at each one if allowed. They were art. A bell chimed above her head and a man straightened from where he had been cleaning his workstation. It occurred to her that she hadn't even checked to see if the open sign was on or not, but she swallowed her anxieties, her apologies, like awkward hard candies. She nearly choked on them as he turned to face her, and she noticed.
Tied around his pinkie was thread the color of arteries, a bit on the nose she felt, considering what it signified. The excess wound up and around, encircling his wrist and ended in a neat knot. It wasn't until she got closer that the ends became apparent, clean cut rather than fading, so tidy a tailor would be proud. Someone had…
"Miss? Are you alright?" Her head snapped up in attention and then wondered how in the hell she had missed the rest of him. Or how in the hell the fae population, if it existed here, hadn't yet whispered him off with sugar plum sweet promises. True they favored bards and storytellers usually, but any patron of the arts was just as vulnerable, just as enticing. His hair was fool's gold, bright and as hearty as farmers wished their wheat was after years of toil, and rebellious in how it lay. The rim of his right ear glittered with piercings, ending in an earring that dripped a globule of ocean's blood. She caught his eyes as one would snag a coat on a handle and lingered, noting they were of the same shade of blue, encircled by shadows that swam like sharks. Yet they were patient, kind to match his smile. She hadn't realized it, but her fist had come to rest on her heart, trembling. Regardless, Sakura smiled and waved off his concern, her hand moving in time with her words. It gave her a reason to shake the numbness from her fingers.
"Oh, I'm fine! I'm sorry for barging in like this. I didn't even check to see if you were open or not." His smile loosened, like a belt sighing.
"Please don't worry about that, I don't close for another hour. Still, I'm glad you're okay. My name is Minato," she swallowed her flinch, and it tasted like waiting for fine china to fall and shatter, "is there anything I can help you with Miss…?"
"Haruka," it felt too short somehow, despite the same number of syllables, and her smile clenched as if keeping anything else from falling out of the cracks of her teeth. "And I suppose I came in mostly out of curiosity. Your sign is pretty eye-catching." Minato laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, the thread swaying with the motion.
"If you think that pun is bad you should have seen some of my earlier ideas."
"I don't know, I mean it got me in the door didn't it? That's one of the jobs of signs after all, so I think it works pretty well." She clasped her hands behind her back and cocked her head, matching his smile. "That and I wanted to ask a question: is it possible to paint over old ones?"
"Paint over…oh, you mean a cover-up? It depends on the tattoo but I've yet to meet one I can't cover."
"…You'd probably need to see it, right?"
"Yes," her hesitation must have shown as he offered an out, temporary as it was. "But you don't have to do it right now if you don't want. You can describe it for me or maybe you want to look at my portfolio to see if you like my work first?"
"I'd…like that very much actually."
"I'll go grab it then, have a seat if you want. And I'll grab the others' too, it's only fair after all."
"Others?"
"Yeah, after all, I certainly couldn't run this place on my own. I'll be right back." Sakura was left standing in the center of the shop, alone, and her eyes roamed the walls, the workstations, pausing on a pop of color here, or a family photo there. Minato's work area was clean, organized…professional to the point little personality was apparent. The only personal touch was a piece of art. A black shadow box was pinned to the wall in his corner, and in it dwelled seashells, sea glass, a starfish, sand, and all manner of bits and bobs found on a beach. Bottlecaps, rocks, all of it swam in this captured shore. Beneath it all, she could swear there was a glimmer of something beneath the sand, but she couldn't see properly from here. "Like it?" Minato was holding a stack of binders and she soon followed him to a nearby table to flip through the pages.
"It's lovely. Did you make it?" There was something sad tucked in the curve of his smile. Sakura resisted the urge to look down at his wrist.
"I did."
"You're very talented."
"Thank you." The conversation stuttered into an awkward tempo, two strangers unable to flow to their own music and instead followed choreographed steps, mindful not to step on toes. Sakura buried herself in the books, automatically shuffling any worded examples to the wayside, and in her haste missed Minato's flustered expression. "Did you want anything to eat or drink? I don't have much to offer but we have water bottles and cereal bars."
"Um, how much is the water?"
"Huh? No charge, Miss Haruka." She stared at him for a moment before she smiled and nodded.
"A water then, please." By the time he returned with their drinks, she already had a question jumping on her tongue. "Is there anyone living in that lighthouse?" The query appeared to throw him off as he blinked owlishly for a moment, pausing mid-sit before he mentally shook himself and relaxed in his chair.
"Not that I'm aware of. It's decommissioned as far as I know," he smiled, resting his cheek on his hand, "but if you want more information about it, you can talk to Mr. Ao. He is the caretaker of the place. He is usually up and about pretty early in the morning, combing the beach, but you also might be able to catch him at The Galleon. It's a small café down the road that's well known for their breakfast."
"Galleon as is…a ship?"
"Yeah," he chuckled knowingly, "you'll see why it has the name when you see it. Can't miss it."
"I'll keep that in mind." For several minutes she paged through the sketches and Minato answered any general inquiries she had. Finally, her fingers paused over a cherry blossom sketch for only the briefest moments before she finally shut the book and stood up.
"Thank you for the water, and your time. I'm sorry but I should get going. I'll be back though—" his previously opened mouth clicked shut, "and I'll definitely commission some work for you." She placed a hand on her wrapped arm and gave him a smile. "Just…not tonight, okay?"
"I understand," Minato frowned, and his brow crinkled in concern. "Miss Haruka, you have a place to stay, right? I'm sorry if this is forward of me but if you need a place to crash for the night, you're more than welcome to my home." From the look on her face, it was clear it would be denied but he at least wanted the offer out on the table. She shook her head.
"No, I'm fine, but thank you. Have a good evening."
"You as well." His words were lost in the ding of the bells, and in the wake of her departure, Minato glanced at the binders in contemplation.
She was greeted with an antsy broom and chilly bird, but she was quick to reassure them even before she was back in her seat and the door was shut. Snapping her seatbelt into place, a move far more well-practiced than it had been her first time, Sakura reached out and ran a finger down his feathers, causing the raven to tense. She was mindful of his wounded wing.
"I'm sorry, I should have given more warning than that. But I will not apologize for going in. The man in the store is kind, and he might be able to do quite a boon for me if I play my cards right and save up some coin. If it bothers you so much, maybe you can come in with me next time?" A beady glare was her answer but the fact that he was no longer ignoring her was victory enough in Sakura's eyes. She blinked as Singe batted at her outstretched arm for attention and she laughed as she adjusted some of the upturned bristles. "Taking you may be a bit trickier, at least I can claim this one's my pet," she ignored how Karasu's feathers fluffed up in indignance, "it's a bit odd to walk around with a broom around here I think, but…" Would Minato take some amount off if she offered to sweep his business? She snorted at the expression that would no doubt conjure. At its almost expectant air, Sakura laughed. "Uh…we'll work on it." She kickstarted the engine, ignoring her companion's look despite how much she wanted to laugh. He was far too proper to give her a true earful a real bird would offer. She did not have any reservations set up anywhere and heavy with doubt that she would find a vacant room, her foot touched the pedal, and they were off.
The bridge to the beach from the road looked rickety, but as soon as the wheels hit the wood, she blinked as she felt a flicker of reinforcement magic beneath them. So…she wasn't alone here. Once she parked where the tide wouldn't carry them off, ass-end of the van facing the ocean, she killed the engine and slipped into the back, mindful of the mess of books, blankets, pillows, and other necessities. And of course, the sentient broom. Her toe found the heavy lantern before she did, summoning forth a series of oaths and cackling caws that almost sounded like laughter.
"Yeah yeah, laugh it up," Sakura muttered before she kneeled, still idly rubbing her toe, and turned on the light, casting shadows about the interior. She rearranged her…nest? Was nest an appropriate word? She wasn't sure but it wasn't the first time the word came to her. The middle was a pit of the softest things she could find for a bed, while the icing around it consisted of dusty tomes, toiletries, kitschy souvenirs, portable appliances, and other knick-knacks she used often enough not to keep tucked away in her bag. The back doors were opened to let in the ocean breeze, and she took a moment to drink in a deep breath. With a beaming grin, she took off her shoes and plopped them down before she planted her toes into the sand, kicking it idly for a moment or two. Or just until Singe was threatening to give her splinters with how much it vibrated in her hand. "Alright, alright, we can go. Karasu, hold down the fort while we're gone!" Lurching to her feet, Sakura gripped the broom and ran out to where the water kissed the shore.
The moon was swathed in a scarf of clouds, only occasionally flipping them over its shoulder to get a view of the world down below. The ocean stung the skin of her feet and she couldn't help but lean into it for a moment before she straddled the handle, mindful not to grab the protective charms dangling from it. The wind whispered, then roared as she kicked off, stepping off from the sand and into the stars. Unbidden, a vivacious whoop escaped from her lungs from where it had been hiding for over ten years. The familiar rush was dizzying, almost to the point she wasn't sure where the sea ended and the sky began, either way, to Sakura it felt like she could reach out and touch whatever lights were there, just beyond her fingertips. She zipped around the lighthouse, over the lifeguard's perch, and past the boarded-up ice cream stand. They stopped to hover over the city, taking in the sight, before she lifted her legs up, so they were parallel to the broom, and they began to plummet.
The free-fall left her breathless, her mind clear and quiet. At the last moment, Singe snagged and surged forward, and Sakura scraped her feet against the sand as they skidded to a halt. Laughter bubbled in her throat and holding it in was as useless as trying to close an opened, shaken soda. When her chuckles trailed off, she winced as she took a step and lifted a foot up to glance at the bottom of them. A few scrapes here and there but nothing to be overly concerned with. Straightening up, she gingerly made her way back to the van and sat on the edge of the opened doors, propping the broom against the wall. She washed the wounds out with a bottle of water she had charmed to refill before lightly slathering ointment over the cuts. At last, she wrapped them up and sat criss-cross applesauce on a pillow, all the while ignoring the raven's reproachful look.
Stretching, arms raised, she caught his eye and smiled sheepishly which only prompted him to huff as much as a bird could. Once Singe was replaced to the side of the van least likely to whack her in her sleep, and the doors closed, Sakura started her nightly rituals. Karasu's nest, a former compartment that no longer had a lid, was cleaned and refurbished before he was tucked inside. He gave her fingertips a light nip before she pet the top of his head delicately and headed back to her bed. Pulling a blanket aside revealed a series of sigils etched into the bottom center of the vehicle which were promptly recharged. The task finished, and Karasu's back turned, she changed into a loose t-shirt and pair of shorts and crawled into her sleeping bag and under the covers. The lantern was left on, now dangling from a hook embedded in the ceiling.
"…Good night, everyone." Sakura got the sound of rustling twigs and a soft caw back before she closed her eyes. And if her hand was clasped under her pillow, well. It made sleep a little easier to come by.