Aeshii

The air between Haru and Saikyo had been icy for days. Even Chozobi, who usually loved teasing them both, had stopped making jokes.  Their training sessions were stiff and awkward, their movements sloppy and careless. None of them could sync their movements like usual, not with all this suffocating tension between them.

Saikyo couldn’t even remember what they’d fought about anymore — 

Only that she’d snapped something cruel during a spar and that Haru had flinched like she’d hit him. After that day, he barely looked at her.

And even though Saikyo told herself she didn’t care, thinking — “It’s better this way.” or “Who needs them anyway.” — it still gnawed at her. Badly.

So, on the third night after the fight, she crept into her small garden behind her family’s house.  Her hands trembling slightly, she knelt by the neatly arranged rows of flowers she’d spent her free time growing. She picked up her shears and started cutting them. A sprig of bluebells, a small bunch of pink carnations, a single white clover and a hidden yellow rosebud.

She tied them together with a piece of plain twine, nothing too fancy or too loud. Saikyo stared at the tiny bouquet in her hand for a long time, contemplating, wondering.

—He’s gonna think it’s stupid,— she muttered under her breath, scowling. But she still put the flowers carefully into a glass vase before bringing it inside.

The next morning at training, the awkward tension was still thick enough to choke on. Chozobi and Haru were warming up already when Saikyo approached. She shuffled toward Haru stiffly, heart hammering in her chest. Then, without a word, she thrusted the tiny bouquet out toward him.

Haru blinked.

—…What’s this? — he questioned, looking at her confused.

Saikyo only scowled harder, cheeks burning. 

—It’s for you.— she grunted and looked away awkwardly. —Don’t make it weird or anything.—

Haru stared at the flowers like she’d handed him a live explosive. Still, slowly and carefully, he took the flowers from her hands — almost like he was afraid they would poison him if he touched them.

—Uh…Thanks,— he said uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. —They’re, uh… nice.—

Saikyo just stomped away fast to start stretching, leaving a weirded out Haru behind. He then went back to Chozobi to start their training.

It wasn’t until a few days later that the three of them were lounging by the river after a tiring mission. Chozobi, munching on some dango, casually spoke up.

—Hey, Haru, you ever look up what those flowers mean?—

Haru, a bit startled, looked up from where he was tossing stones into the water.

—…Huh? You mean the ones Saikyo gave me?—

Chozobi nodded, smiling a bit.

—Yeah. They’re apology flowers, dumbass.— she responded, amused.

Haru froze. His brows furrowing as he locked in. Chozobi just continued, very nonchalantly. 

—Bluebells mean she’s sorry. Carnations mean she cherishes you. Clover means she wants you to stay friends. And the rose? That’s caring. She basically handed you a whole-ass essay with flowers because she was too chicken to say it.—

Haru stared at her, then down at the now slightly wilted bouquet he had tucked into his bag carelessly. He was now seeing it completely differently.

He remembered how awkward Saikyo had been when she handed them over. How she hadn’t looked him in the eye, how her hands had been trembling just a little.

Something thick lodged in his throat. He didn’t say anything for a second. Just… sat with it. Then, slowly, he let out a soft laugh — low and a little breathless.

—She’s such an idiot…,— he murmured, but there was no bite in it. Just warmth.

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching up into the kind of grin that tugged at his whole face. The kind that looked like it hadn’t been used in some time.

—…She really couldn’t have just said it? — he pondered, unsure whether the question was directed at Chozobi or more at himself.

Chozobi smirked, leaning back on her elbows. 

—Nope. That’s just how Saikyo is, you know? She always has her own way of doing things.—

Haru let out another quiet laugh and picked up a stone, flipping it between his fingers before tossing it into the river with a clean plunk.

When Saikyo glanced over, pretending not to have been listening to them the whole time, Haru was already looking at her. He raised one hand in a lazy half-wave and said,

—Thanks. For the flowers.—

Saikyo blinked, being caught off guard. She didn’t respond right away, but the faintest flush dusted her cheeks. She nodded once, awkwardly — but didn’t look away. And for the first time in days, the silence between them wasn’t awkward anymore. 

It was comforting.

I'm leaving the flowers in order for yall as well in case you wanna visualize the bouquet ;]

Sazuma was in a hurry when she wrote the shopping list down on her forearm. Her dad wanted her to go shopping, but he knew she would quickly forget half of the list, so he asked her to write it down. She, with no paper in sight just took a pen and started writing it on her skin, not thinking too much about it.

It was only later that night when she remembered that those notes are visible to another person too. Only when fresh ink, in a handwriting too neat to be hers appeared on her wrist did she remember that her Soulmate could see everything.

—Your handwriting is a war crime. Work on it.—

Sazuma was flabbergasted, a silent gasp escaping her lips before her they curled upwards into a wide smile. It was the first time her Soulmate wrote an actual sentence to her. They could communicate since they were little kids and Sazuma tried, but her Soulmate never answered before, so she gave up some years ago.

She quickly got up, searching for the nearest pen in her room. She grabbed onto one and started writing her response.

—Uh, Rude! Anyway, hello there sweetheart ;) —

There was a silence on the other side for a good minute. But then, a new response appeared.

—I see you’re still as persistent and loud as back then. Great.—

Sazuma chuckled. Oh, this was going to be fun.

————

On the other side of the village, Saikyo groaned, rubbing her forehead. She didn’t even know why she wrote back. It was like her hands just grabbed the pen on their own. She had no patience for soulmates, especially not cheerful, pen-happy ones. She had bigger things to worry about: missions, training, getting stronger to prove herself. That’s what she lived by for years now, she didn’t have time for whatever this was. She never felt the need to know who her soulmate was.

Still...

Her fingers hovered over her skin before putting the pen down and going back to bed. There was training in the morning, and she wanted to be ready for it.

————

The weirdest part?

Saikyo had actually met Sazuma before. Sazuma was Haru’s annoying, cheerful older sister.

Haru—the whiny, hopeless teammate Saikyo worked with almost daily—spoke of Sazuma often. Saikyo had seen her once or twice around the training fields: a bright flash of blonde hair, black eyes that gleamed like stars, a personality that could set fire to rain.

Too much.

Saikyo didn’t deal with "too much" very well, which was why, obviously, it never crossed her mind that her cheerful soulmate and Haru's sister could be the same person.

It was too unlikely. Too unbelievable.

Meanwhile, Sazuma knew Haru’s teammate was a girl named Saikyo—quiet, sassy, detached. Sazuma had seen her once during a mission briefing, arms crossed, attentive, but still somehow intimidating.

It had definitely not occurred to her that her grumpy soulmate was the same person.

The universe, clearly, had jokes.

————

Some time had passed since that night. Their exchanges becoming more frequent. More casual. Both of them enjoying these special moments between themselves. Saikyo was in the middle of training with her teammates when suddenly the "small drizzle of rain" that Haru mentioned in the morning turned into a down pour, soaking everyone from head to toe. Haru let out a sigh of defeat, while Saikyo groaned, slapping her forehead. Chozobi was long gone, hiding from the rain under a nearest tree.

—I swear,— Saikyo muttered, —if this becomes a cold, I’m blaming both of you.—

A voice cut through the rain—bright and cheerful:

—Oi! Haru!—

Sazuma came jogging into view, hair plastered to her face, holding three umbrellas like an overstuffed bouquet.

—Did you seriously forget to check the weather again?— she scolded playfully, tossing one at her brother. —You’re hopeless.—

Haru caught it with a half-smile. —I checked. It said drizzle.—

Sazuma rolled her eyes and turned to the other two, holding out the extras.

—You guys will get sick. Take one.—

Chozobi grabbed onto it, thanking her before moving on. But Saikyo just blinked. —You… brought spares?—

—Obviously,— Sazuma said with a grin. —You’re Haru’s team, right? That makes you my team, too.—

It was so casual. So warm. Saikyo hesitated, before she took the umbrella with a quiet —…Thanks.—

Sazuma on the other hand beamed. —Anytime!—

She turned to leave, then paused and added over her shoulder:

—And don’t forget to dry your socks. That’s how you get trench foot!—

Then she was gone again, a streak of sunshine disappearing into the storm. Haru shook his head.

—She’s like this all the time.— he said, but Saikyo didn’t answer. She just stared down at the umbrella in her hand, heart uncomfortably tight.

————

Another week has passed since the rain incident. Saikyo thought she moved on from it, but her gaze still lingered on Sazuma every now and then. She felt conflicted. She continued her conversations with her soulmate, but they just didn’t feel as right as before. It was strange to think about. She had someone assigned to her, someone fated to be her lover one day, even if she thought she didn’t need them. So why did she feel this way about a girl she barely knew? She thought those feelings could only be directed for one person. It didn’t help that Sazuma came yet again to one of their trainings.

They were tired, bruised, and covered in dirt. Saikyo flopped onto the grass near the edge of the field and yanked off her gloves, flexing sore fingers. Beside her, Sazuma dropped to the ground and groaned.

—Remind me never to spar with that chakra mutant again,— she whined, looking to the side where her brother was sitting.

Saikyo snorted. —You’re the one who said, ‘let’s go all out!’— the mocking in her voice made Sazuma crack open an eye. —Yeah, and it was a mistake. A beautiful, high-energy mistake.—

Saikyo just shrugged and stretched, her right sleeve pulling up as she reached over her head. That’s when Sazuma froze. There was writing on Saikyo’s arm.

A familiar, messy writing in dark ink that read:

—Gotta go train, ttyl cutie~—

Sazuma’s breath caught in her throat, heart slamming against her ribs like crazy.

—…No way,— she gasped. Saikyo just blinked and turned to look at her confused. —Hm? What?—

Sazuma stared at her. Pointed.

—That. Your arm.—

Saikyo looked down—confused at first—then very still. She nervously covered her arm, not wanting Sazuma to look at it any longer. Sazuma started laughing, hard. It almost freaked Saikyo out, until Sazuma pulled up her own sleeves, showing her the exact inked messages on her own arm.

A long, stunned silence filled the air between them until Sazuma slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with wonder.

—Oh my god,— she mumbled behind her palm. —It’s you?!—

Saikyo’s face burned. She just wanted to disappear into the grass.

—I- I didn’t know either,— she blurted. —I didn’t- It was just… I thought you were too…—

—Loud?— Sazuma offered, a little amused.

—Bright.— Saikyo corrected quietly, face still burning in shame and embarrassment. Sazuma blinked and then smiled. Not the big, cheeky grin she gave everyone else. A smaller, softer smile. The kind she gave only when she meant it.

—…Sooo you’re the one who drew all those cute cat doodles on my leg during the Gennin exams, huh? And then never spoke to me again?— she said lightly, but teasingly. Saikyo immediately buried her face in her hands, standing up.

—I- d-don’t talk to me…!— she stuttered before running away in embarrassment, leaving a laughing Sazuma and confused teammates behind.

—What’s up with her?— Haru asked, looking at his sister.

—Isn’t my soulmate just so cute? I think I’m swooned!— she laughed.

Haru nodded without a thought, before realization hit him and he almost snapped his neck to look at her. —Wait WHAT??—

————

(Sazuma’s POV — Umbrella Scene)

The rain started halfway back from the market, fat drops splattering against the dusty streets. Sazuma tilted her face up, letting it hit her skin, and grinned.

—Man,— she said to herself, —someone's about to have a bad day if they didn’t check the weather.—

She thought about Haru — her idiot little brother who never remembered things like "umbrellas" or "sunscreen" or "common sense." She thought about how he was probably out training with his team right now.

In the rain. Like a bunch of absolute dopes.

Sazuma ducked under a shop awning, shaking out her jacket, and spotted a display of cheap umbrellas for sale.

Bright colors. Sturdy handles. Perfect.

She didn’t even hesitate. Grabbing three, she shoved some ryo into the vendor’s hand and took off running toward the training fields, dodging puddles like a ninja on a mission.

(Which, technically, she was.)

When she spotted them across the field — three soaking figures, one of them huddled under a miserable tree — Sazuma waved her arm in the air like a maniac.

—Oi, Haru!— she shouted.

Heads turned. Haru, looking wet and grumpy. His dark-haired teammate — Saikyo, if she remembered right — standing stiffly nearby. Chozobi was already standing under a tree, hiding from the rain. Sazuma sprinted the last few meters and skidded to a stop, waving the umbrellas triumphantly.

—Did you seriously forget to check the weather again?!— she called, tossing one at Haru. He caught it with a sheepish shrug. —I checked! It said drizzle!—

Sazuma rolled her eyes so hard she nearly gave herself whiplash. Boys were so stupid sometimes. Without missing a beat, she held out the other umbrellas to the rest of the team.

—You guys will get sick,— she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. —Take one.—

Saikyo hesitated — eyes a little wide, like she wasn’t used to people doing things for her — before reaching out slowly.

—...Thanks— she muttered.

Sazuma flashed her a big grin.

—Anytime! You’re Haru’s team, right? That makes you my team too.—

And she meant it. Family was family. Even when they didn’t know it yet. Especially then, she turned to leave, pausing just long enough to yell back:

—And don’t forget to dry your socks. That’s how you get trench foot!—

Because if she didn’t mother-hen them a little, who would? As she jogged away, rain soaking into her shoes, Sazuma smiled to herself. Small stuff like this — making sure Haru and his friends stayed warm and dry and okay...This was what being a big sister was for.

The rain was still falling when Sazuma turned down the old street toward home, shoes splashing through shallow puddles. She whistled a little under her breath, spinning her last umbrella like a baton.

Normally, she’d be planning what to eat when she got home — ramen, maybe, or something sweet if Dad was hiding snacks again — but for some reason, her mind kept circling back to the field.

Specifically, to a certain sassy, tight-shouldered kunoichi standing in the rain.

Saikyo.

Sazuma frowned lightly to herself, the umbrella tapping against her shoulder. It wasn’t weird to think about Haru’s teammates. She liked all of them — they were family by extension.

But...

There was something about Saikyo that stuck. The way she’d hesitated when Sazuma offered the umbrella, like she didn’t know if she was allowed to take it.

The way her eyes, pretty shades of blue and green— had flicked up in surprise, sharp and wary and lonely.

Sazuma kicked a rock down the road, sending it skipping through the rain. It made her chest tighten.

She didn’t really know Saikyo, not well. Not beyond the quick snapshots she got from Haru’s stories, or the glimpses at the training fields.

But still— Still, there was something. Something warm and tugging and unfinished. Sazuma sighed, dragging a hand through her wet hair, and scowled up at the sky.

—Stupid rain— she muttered.

But even as she stomped through the puddles, heart stubbornly refusing to settle, she couldn’t help thinking:

I want to know her better.

I want her to look at me without all that distance.

And deep in the hidden parts of herself — the parts she usually kept distracted with loud jokes and bright smiles — Sazuma wondered if maybe, just maybe, the universe had already decided something she hadn’t caught up to yet.

————

(Saikyo’s POV — After the Umbrella Scene)

The rain tapped against the umbrella in a steady rhythm, soft and stubborn. Saikyo stood there, staring out at the soaked field even after Sazuma disappeared down the road — a bright, clumsy streak of energy in the storm. She tightened her grip on the umbrella's handle.

Around her, the others were already moving: Haru swinging the umbrella onto his shoulder like it was a sword; while Chozobi laughed at something Haru said beforehand.

Saikyo stayed still.

The umbrella Sazuma had handed her was cheap — a bright obnoxious color, probably bought from the first vendor she saw. The handle was a little scratched. It smelled faintly of fresh rain and old wood.

It was stupid.

It was just an umbrella. It wasn’t like Sazuma had done anything special. It wasn’t like no one had ever brought her one before.

Saikyo’s jaw tightened. She hated the way her throat felt — thick and aching. She hated the stupid sting behind her eyes. It didn’t mean anything. Sazuma was just… Sazuma.

Loud. Cheerful. Thoughtless.

Kind.

Saikyo hunched her shoulders and jammed the umbrella lower over her head, shielding herself from the others' glances. Maybe Sazuma was like that with everyone.

Maybe she wasn't special.

But she remembered the way Sazuma had smiled — like it mattered that Saikyo stayed dry. Like it wasn’t even a question.

Saikyo exhaled slowly, letting the rain-muffled world press in. Somewhere, under her sleeve, the ink on her wrist pulsed faintly — a few faded scribbles from a soulmate she still hadn't found.

She pretended like she didn’t notice. She always did.

She tilted her head up slightly, letting a few drops of rain slip under the edge of the umbrella and onto her cheek. The world smelled clean and cold.

—...Idiot,— she muttered under her breath.

She wasn't even sure if she meant Sazuma or herself. Probably both.

Clutching the umbrella tighter, she turned and followed the others. She didn’t look back. She wanted to.

———

Saikyo: "I don’t have feelings."

Also Saikyo: standing dramatically in the rain thinking about Sazuma like she’s in a sad song.