[A/N] Based on the song "Sakura Nagashi" by Utada Hikaru. Lyrics translated by me with occasional references to the official translation by Utada Hikaru herself.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
C h e r r y B l o s s o m s for the D e p a r t e d
Gazing at the scattering flowers after they had just blossomed,
"They're early this year too," you said,
In disappointment, regret,
Yet you were still beautiful.
Kuroko liked to think that he knew Kagami better than most people. Most people knew that Kagami was loud and hot-headed. Most people knew that Kagami was a basketball prodigy. Most people knew that Kagami loved the cheeseburgers from Maji.
Not many people knew that Kagami loved watching the cherry blossoms bloom.
They would stand at the Seirin gates every year, near the foot of the largest sakura tree. It would always be in late March, when the breeze was still chilly and Kuroko could taste the remains of winter in the air. They would stay there, hand in hand in the middle of the night, the moonlight and occasional streetlight casting silvery beams on their red faces. Kagami would point each tree out with his unoccupied hand, his eyes reflecting the soft white of the full moon.
"Did you know?" He would always start, even though Kuroko already knew the answer. "Cherry blossoms are best when they're still buds, the night before they bloom. It's like a mist of pink...and it's really beautiful."
Kuroko didn't have to reply. The awe in his wide blue eyes was enough to convey his agreement.
If you were to see me now,
I wonder what you'd think...
Of me living without you.
He still made the trip every year, the cherry blossoms never failing to bloom in a delicate blanket of pale pink. The only difference was that he was now alone.
He watched the little petals dance to the ground, settling onto the pavement like pearly tears. His own splashed down beside them.
Everybody finds love
In the end.
For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to cease their tradition. He felt his heart shattering every time he stood at the foot of the trees, the whooshing night winds on his left side making him painfully aware of the empty space beside him. It hurt more to ignore it.
