Chapter 9: — "Scars of Yesterday (I)"

The weekend sunlight spilled through Sakura’s bedroom window, scattering faint golden hues across her desk. A few sheets of unfinished homework fluttered slightly in the soft breeze, but her pencil hadn’t moved in almost ten minutes.

Her thoughts were elsewhere, drifting between her mother’s worried expression from last week and Haruto’s bruised face that still lingered in her memory. Every time she tried to shake it off, the image crept back, stronger.

The vibration of her phone on the desk snapped her out of it.

Ayaka: “Let’s go out for ice cream 🍦 you’ve been looking too gloomy lately.”
Ayaka: “Seaside shop near the pier. My treat!”

Sakura blinked.
She typed, “I have homework.”
Seconds later, another ping.

Ayaka: “Homework will still be there. The waves won’t. 🌊 Come on!”

Sakura exhaled softly, half amused, half reluctant.
Ayaka had that uncanny ability to sense when something weighed on her mind, even without saying it.
And maybe… maybe she was right.

The small seaside town of Kiyosato was calm that afternoon, wrapped in the gentle hum of ocean breeze and distant chatter. Sakura walked beside Ayaka along the narrow path that curved toward the shoreline, holding a cup of vanilla ice cream. Ayaka had gone for matcha, of course.

“See? Isn’t this better than drowning in math problems?” Ayaka grinned, spooning a big bite of green ice cream.

Sakura smiled faintly. “Maybe. But now I’m drowning in seagulls trying to steal my food.”

As if on cue, a small flock of gulls screeched nearby, making Ayaka laugh so loud that a couple walking past turned their heads.

It felt… peaceful. The kind of peace Sakura hadn’t realized she needed. The salty air brushed her face, tangling her hair slightly, and the sun shimmered against the waves like a thousand scattered stars.

They sat down on a low stone wall overlooking the sea, legs dangling freely.

Ayaka leaned back on her hands. “You know,” she began casually, “you’ve really changed since I first met you.”

Sakura blinked. “Changed?”

“Yeah.” Ayaka smiled softly. “You’re smiling more. Talking more. You even draw in class when you think I’m not looking.”

Sakura’s cheeks warmed slightly. “You notice too much.”

“That’s my job as your friend.” Ayaka nudged her shoulder. “But seriously, I’m happy you’re opening up. Even if…”

Her words trailed off for a moment, her tone softening.
“Even if some of that smile seems forced sometimes.”

Sakura froze mid-bite of ice cream.

Ayaka quickly waved her hand. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to make it heavy. I just…” She sighed. “I noticed you’ve been spacing out lately. Ever since that day Haruto was absent. You’ve been quieter.”

Sakura lowered her spoon, eyes fixed on the horizon. The sound of the waves filled the silence between them, steady, endless, patient.

Ayaka hesitated, then gently asked, “Hey… Sakura. Can I ask you something?”

Sakura didn’t answer, just tilted her head slightly.

“What… really happened between you and Haruto back then?”

The question hung in the air like a sudden shift in the wind.
Sakura’s fingers tightened around her cup.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. The calm sea blurred in her vision, as if her eyes couldn’t decide whether to stay in the present or sink back into memory.

Ayaka immediately looked regretful. “Oh...nwait, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay.” Sakura’s voice was quiet, trembling slightly. “It’s not your fault.”

Ayaka bit her lip, unsure whether to speak again.

Sakura took a shaky breath, gaze still fixed on the horizon.
“It’s just… hard to talk about.”

The way she said it wasn’t bitter, just tired. Like someone who had rehearsed the same pain for years, but still couldn’t find the right words for it.

“I thought moving away would make me forget,” Sakura continued after a pause. “But when I saw him again… it was like nothing had changed. The same eyes. The same voice.”
She let out a small laugh, one that wasn’t really a laugh. “Except this time, he wasn’t hurting me.”

Ayaka turned toward her fully, the wind playing with her hair. “He really used to…?”

Sakura nodded faintly. “Back in elementary school. He and his friends would call me names. Hide my sketchbooks. Tear them apart. Sometimes they’d just… laugh, for no reason.”

She gripped her skirt, knuckles pale. “I didn’t understand why. I thought I’d done something wrong. I thought if I smiled, or apologized, maybe they’d stop. But it never worked.”

Ayaka’s ice cream was melting untouched in her hand. She could barely look at Sakura without feeling her chest tighten.

“That’s horrible,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” Sakura said softly, almost too softly. “It was a long time ago.”

But the look in her eyes told a different story. A quiet ache that time hadn’t managed to erase, only bury deeper.

Ayaka hesitated, then said gently, “And now he’s different?”

Sakura’s lips curved into a small, uncertain smile. “Yeah. He’s… different. He stood up for me once. Against the same kind of people he used to be friends with.”

Her voice faltered slightly. “I don’t know if I can ever fully trust him. But… I want to believe he’s trying.”

Ayaka nodded slowly, her own expression soft. “You’re kind, you know that?”

Sakura blinked. “Kind?”

“Yeah.” Ayaka smiled, though it was faint, thoughtful. “Most people would just hate someone like that forever. But you’re here, sitting by the ocean, trying to understand him.”

Sakura looked away, watching the sun shimmer across the water’s surface.
“Maybe that’s the problem,” she murmured. “Maybe I care too much about things I shouldn’t.”

Ayaka placed her hand gently over Sakura’s.
“Or maybe,” she said, “you just have a heart that doesn’t give up on people too easily.”

The two sat there in silence for a while, the sound of the waves their only company.
A soft breeze blew by, lifting Sakura’s hair gently against her cheek.

She looked out over the sea and whispered, barely audible,
“…I wonder if he’s okay.”

Ayaka didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
The quiet understanding between them said more than words could.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the waves reflected shades of orange and pink — calm, but endless, like the thoughts swirling quietly inside Sakura’s heart.