Flashback: Sakuraba Sakuya
Sakuya poked her head out.
"Hey, are you asleep?"
Sakuya whispered into Tae-il's ear, where his steady breathing was the only sound.
"Taichi? You really sleeping?"
"…."
No response to Sakuya's mutterings.
She waved her hand carefully over his face, but not even an eyebrow twitched.
"Pfft!"
Her words and actions didn't match at all.
He'd complained that the sports field was too noisy to sleep even if he wanted to, yet here he was, out cold. Laughter bubbled up inevitably.
"Sleeping like that, he's kinda cute in a sneaky way."
Sakuya lost track of time, just watching Tae-il sleep for a good while.
Ayane got snatched away again.
Up close like this, she wanted to prank him at least a little, but waking him would make things awkward. Scary, even.
Sakuya decided not to push her luck and backed off gracefully.
There was no hesitation in her retreating steps.
It's fine. No rush. Today was different from usual, right?
Tae-il was a guy surrounded by walls.
You could hear his voice, but you couldn't touch him or even exchange glances properly. Today, though, those walls felt a little crumbled.
He doesn't seem as wary of me anymore.
She didn't know why.
She hadn't done anything special today.
Tae-il had just changed on his own, out of nowhere.
It was a welcome shift.
Unlike the past, when he'd drawn a clear line, his softened attitude now made Sakuya's steps feel light as clouds.
"Heave-ho! Time to run a bit…."
Sakuya stepped onto the track, savoring the fresh mood.
Right then, as if they'd been waiting for her to be alone, a group of girls approached her.
All from Class 7, same as her.
"Sakuraba, wanna play dodgeball with us if you're free?"
"We're short one player!"
"Some kids from Class 8 are here too, so we could even make it a class match!"
Sakuya flashed a troubled smile.
"Sorry. I wanna run today. Next time for sure, though."
"Really?"
"Promise?"
With next time settled, the girls left thrilled, satisfied.
Sakuya, seeing them off from the track, tapped her shoe cleats against the surface to loosen her ankles.
"Phew. Alright, then…."
This wasn't practice for Interhigh.
She wasn't even competing in track events there.
"Hoo…."
The goal was just to sweat it out.
Sakuya moved her body whenever her thoughts piled up, to shake them off.
Exercise cleared the mind.
Sweat sorted tangled thoughts, dissolving nagging worries.
Emptied the head.
In manga terms, a trance-like state. The pleasure hit harder than most thrills.
Sakuya ran endlessly.
Even while running, she kept murmuring the name of that nagging boy.
"Taichi. Taichi. Tai-ru. Ttae-i-ru…."
Her breathing grew ragged, but she didn't stop repeating Tae-il's name.
Sometimes her tongue tripped, turning it into something neither Taichi nor Tae-il. She ignored it, muttering the name nonstop as she ran and ran.
Before long, Sakuya was lost in a hallucination of the past.
Bright light enveloped her, vividly replaying old memories.
* * *
As a child not yet in elementary school, Sakuya found her family distant and awkward.
They say outstanding kids get loved by adults.
And Sakuya was outstanding.
Adults around her acted like she'd been dipped in honey, endlessly discussing her future whenever they gathered.
Expectations so heavy they bordered on cruel.
Sakuya's own will had no place there.
If she'd failed just once.
If she'd fallen short even once, those expectations might have faded.
Unfortunately, she was too excellent, succeeding without fail.
Brainpower or brawn—she met every expectation spectacularly.
So she was loved. Not understood, but loved as a promising star with a bright future.
Love that came with a price.
"True love is love without strings attached!"
"Love without strings?"
"Yeah! Doesn't matter if it's not reciprocated. You love because you just do!"
Sakuya's cousin—marked as a person of interest by the relatives—shoved a manga close to her face as she said it.
The cousin smiled benevolently like a saint and proselytized.
"Wanna give it a shot? Otaku life?"
"Sure."
Curiosity won; Sakuya accepted easily.
Love without strings.
Did it really exist? When Sakuya asked, her cousin insisted yes.
Sakuya wanted to verify it herself.
Even parental love had conditions—unconditional love seemed impossible.
And that choice became the biggest turning point in young Sakuraba Sakuya's life.
The manga her cousin handed over was about boys playing tennis.
Sakuya had just started tennis herself, so she took interest.
Might have useful info, who knows.
Of course, results-wise, no useful info in manga.
Plainly put, trash as reference material.
"Sis, this doesn't make sense."
"Nuh-uh! Manga defies common sense! Feel it with your heart!"
"Sis, coach says smashing a tennis ball into someone's face is bad manners…."
"Nuh-uh! That's where rose-like friendships bloom!"
"Sis, this isn't tennis technique—it's like drugs? Kinda risky content."
"Nuh-uh! That's just how the son of god plays tennis!"
"Sis, no matter how desperate, people don't lose their senses."
"Nuh-uh! That's exactly what the son of god's tennis is!"
No reasoning with her.
Sakuya recoiled at her cousin's bullheaded responses.
The content was all exaggerated or utterly unrealistic.
But separately, it was fun.
Sports manga protagonists were geniuses galore. The burden of expectations, the dilemmas of talent—Sakuya empathized deeply.
Dubious if the author had actually met geniuses, but still.
"Sis, got any other manga besides this?"
"Nuh-uh! Huh?"
Her cousin was stunned when Sakuya devoured the stack in no time.
Sakuya rarely showed open regret, but she did now—genuinely hooked.
Bringing only samples was a mistake.
Who knew Sakuya would love manga this much? Cousin promised more next time.
After that, despite adults' objections, they met often.
Even on the day before Sakuya's elementary school start.
Relatives gathered at the Sakuraba estate for the celebration laden with expectations.
Sakuya mechanically greeted the elders.
That day, cousin arrived with a huge manga haul. Unlike other cousins who skipped to avoid comparison, she braved the scorn—and was the only guest Sakuya truly welcomed.
House event barely over, Sakuya dragged her to her room.
Cousin delivered: over twenty volumes.
"Today's are old-school manga. More realistic!"
"Slam Dunk?"
"P.S., my fave is Rukawa Kaede! Most people's, probably!"
A quick skim: more grounded than the superpowered basketball last time.
Except characters looking like high schoolers.
"Not bad, right?"
"Yeah."
Cousin beamed at Sakuya, fully immersed.
"Sakuya, don't go reading this obsessively at school, okay?"
"Sis, even I know no manga in class."
"More fundamental than that."
"Fundamental?"
Cousin explained; Sakuya paused mid-read, tilting her head.
Eyes asking what "fundamental" meant, but cousin—peak otaku obliviousness—didn't notice.
"Best to hide your otaku side as much as possible. Especially at school."
"Why? Wanna share with others."
"Exactly why not! Kids handle books so roughly!"
"I'll supervise. C'mon?"
"Still no. No means no, even with puppy eyes!"
Cousin held firm against Sakuya's charm.
Dead serious.
Why hide otaku stuff? Sakuya couldn't grasp it.
Kindergarten chatter was all anime.
Sakuya pouted; cousin gave a wry smile, stroking her head soothingly.
"Hard to get now. But later, you'll understand what I mean."
"Whoa, talking like an adult. We're only five years apart. Such a boomer."
"Eek! Where'd you learn that?"
Cousin giggled, pinching Sakuya's cheeks hard.
Learned from manga—what now? Sakuya grumbled inwardly.
"Sakuya, be grateful now. Later, you might bow in thanks, but I won't accept. Ohoho!"
"Eww, weird laugh…."
Embarrassed, Sakuya edged away.
"Where you going!"
Cousin caught on, pinching her nose vindictively.
"Eek! Hurts, sis! Ow!"
"Hehe. Anyway, you might not get it now, but be careful later. Sisterly advice that saves lives."
"Ung. Weird. Liking manga a big weakness to hide?"
"Weird or not, that's the rule. Follow it."
"Your speech is weird too."
"Tch!"
Cousin's advice without explanation didn't click for Sakuya. Sounded like loser's excuses, almost laughable.
Still, cousin stroked her head warmly, repeating it.
"But! If you get so outstanding no one dares mess with you, then it's fine. Your fans will back you to the death."
"If not?"
"Instant loser status. Got it, Sakuya?"
Hide otaku side for safety.
From experience, Sakuya nodded reluctantly.
Cousin wasn't a coward without reason; no pointless nagging.
Among incomprehensible relatives, the one who got her—Sakuya couldn't ignore that. She must have reasons. Despite grumbling, Sakuya followed through.
Realizing cousin was right came quick.
By upper elementary, puberty hit, bodies changed, boys and girls separated naturally. Boys avoided talking to girls.
Same here. Girls ditched anime for idols, fashion—mature talk. Outside Sakuya's tastes.
Kids who showed otaku side vanished like ghosts, per cousin.
Obvious ones got ignored by masses, stuck cliquing up. Sakuya couldn't join; they shut out outsiders like isolationists.
That's what she meant.
Cousin wasn't wrong.
World where a bit of otaku makes you a joke. Sakuya couldn't understand.
Can't we like manga? Anime too—we all grew up on it.
But she lacked courage to say it openly to friends.
So she followed cousin's advice.
Become outstanding.
Reach a height where eyes can't look away, then flaunt otaku freely. Being "good" sufficed at home. Sakuya wanted to live true to herself.
Might even change things around her. She believed in her influence.
Perfectly, drawing eyes as outstanding was second nature since childhood.
Sakuya chose sports without hesitation.
Most eye-catching way, she figured.
Results: jackpot.
Elementary tennis tournaments built her name quietly; she donned the perfect "sports genius" mask.
Peak in middle school with intramurals.
One try per sport—she shattered records. Suspected talent, but the results stunned even her.
Principal bowing thanks; high schools love-bombing early.
This enough?
Time to otaku openly? But the mask, once worn, stuck like glue.
Test waters—atmosphere chilled.
Not yet. Higher.
Suppress urge to rip off the face-constricting bond; act and act.
Prince charming image? Easy—ape manga characters' speech and mannerisms.
Life started feeling truly manga-like. Empathy deepened attachment.
Finally grasped cousin's "stringless love."
Still, wished for someone to drop the mask with.
Only cousin so far—but recently, one more.
Shin Tae-il.
The Korean boy who said just call him Taichi—too hard to pronounce otherwise.
Not that foreign; met mixed kids, immigrants in middle school.
East Asian like her—familiar over strange.
Yet why?
Sakuya's gaze always stolen by him. Around him, her personality turned mischievous; true self leaked through mask cracks.
Long-suppressed recognition urge surged wildly before this apathetic boy.
Like now.
"Hoo. Hoo…."
Sakuya gradually slowed.
Vision steadied.
Boys' soccer shouts, girls' dodgeball screams filled ears.
Face flushed hot.
Heart pounded—no oxygen, it complained.
Still composed. Breathing ragged, but not gasping. Slowing and blushing solely because heart thumped too loud.
Observing Tae-il more, she could only scream inwardly.
He was material incarnate.
Korean.
Weakling.
Chronic skipper.
Chummy with morals committee.
Biased but excellent grades.
Decent face.
Blunt, cool delivery.
Rumors of weekend Shinjuku/Shibuya sightings.
Even objectively, Shin Tae-il was intriguing.
Lately, Sakuya realized his pull.
Taichi's total protagonist material!
Protagonist.
Story core, world center.
Fated.
Sakuya recalled why Yuuma High.
Weirdos galore. Geniuses cluster. Eccentric chairwoman. Hot-blooded teachers from youth dramas.
Indeed, oddballs everywhere. Material in every sightline. Cartoonish freak den. Worth defying parents, living far—Sakuya rejoiced.
Sports clubs: jewel boxes of personalities.
Not just boys—girls' teams packed shonen protags. Edgier than middle school, straight from manga.
All noted in her material notebook.
Shin Tae-il: most abnormal.
Sakuya's term: rootless weirdo.
Others' motives readable via actions; his? Blank.
Suspicious unknown = protagonist candidate.
Wanna know more…!
Sakuya yearned to dissect Shin Tae-il.
Attraction? His protagonist traits, she chalked up.
Abnormal vs. abnormal.
Or abnormal-normal: classic manga combo, success formula.
Thinking him protag led here.
Am I the heroine?
Sakuya viewed Tae-il fatefully.
His seat: back-row window. Classic protag spot.
Hers: right beside.
Height-based assignment, but she felt destiny.
Contacts galore, inevitably.
Others avoid him; she cleans up. Felt fated.
Instinct whispered.
This might be a manga world!
Logical leaps aside, Sakuya thought so.
Didn't matter if not.
Just curious.
What genre world is this?
Running to clear thoughts, yet head full of fancies.
Urban fantasy? Sci-fi? Superpower battles? Surprise sports?
Maybe youth romance, ln/visual novel. Or Korean webnovel/toon/drama.
Spectra too broad; single traits meaningless. Twists on cliches rising.
Eh, genre doesn't matter.
Key: Tae-il protagonist?
If yes, her heroine odds not zero.
Fateful. Proves her specialness.
Dream plot for Sakuya.
"Haha."
Sakuya let out a hollow laugh, stopping her legs.
Breathing a tad ragged.
Fierce run shook focus; gaze still on sleeping Tae-il.
"No wonder he can't see the real me…."
If non-cousin saw this? Mortifying to imagine.
Self-scold for overfantasizing; hands swept face.
"Protagonist and heroine, what…."
Sakuya tsked softly, shame-flushed.
Head cooled like ice water. Heart resumed rhythm.
Otaku romance: luxury.
Tried dating various types for experience—left stricter standards, sharper eyes.
Real love no manga sweet; breakups refreshing over wistful.
Ideals high, reality harsh.
To avoid repeat mistakes, etched deep: reality ≠ manga.
No fate, no protag/heroine.
All unfulfilled delusions.
"Feels like stray thoughts multiplied. Crank up intensity?"
Sakuya wiped sweaty nape.
Body hot as hot packs.
More running? Might collapse.
"Eh, good enough."
Shaking numb soles, headed to stands where Tae-il lay.
Regret lingered, but face already wore the beloved genius athlete mask: Sakuraba Sakuya.