String theory is a theoretical framework that posits that every subatomic particle in the universe is made of tiny vibrating strings. They are infinite in form, yet so small that they cannot be directly observed. In a similar sense, the composition of Sakura’s personhood is made up of similar metaphorical strings.
These threads are loose and unconnected, failing to give his body and mind a stable form. It is easy for them to unravel due to a lack of tethering (to any sort of ground) and dissolve. Especially in the darkness where it’s impossible to notice due to its thin nature. Hence it is a visual representation of Sakura’s emotions: he cannot afford to wallow in them, as they serve to remind Sakura how alone he is.
So alone that nobody had taught him how to regulate his complex feelings, or that it was okay to even feel in the first place. Instead, he lets the strings and his soul melt away. Nobody can confront and ridicule him if the proof of his existence is no longer visible; likewise Sakura doesn’t have to confront his own emotions when the darkness obscures his sight.
Alongside emotion, his strings are connected to the presence of loss. When Sakura’s threads unravel, they inevitably disappear, and the emotions he had once possessed are essentially lost within the darkness. The rejection from his father is emphatic of this. When he called his son a murderer and left him at an orphanage, Sakura lost a chance at a normal life. At stability, belonging, love, and a father who should’ve been there to take care of him. Not to mention that Daddy Sakura blames Little Sakura for “murdering” his mother—an adverse reaction of grief that stems from the loss of his wife. And at the end of the day, Sakura wants nothing but to get rid of his emotions and lose himself in the darkness of the night.
That traumatizing yet epiphanic event births something new in Sakura, one that he can clearly name: Anger. The label is an implicit acknowledgement, and with it Sakura’s once scattered semi-emotions are finally given a proper shape. The more Sakura fights for himself and lets his anger fuel him, the more he inadvertently isolates himself from others. The utter rejection of the people in his life also gives him liberty instead of only misery.
Sakura has wholeheartedly accepted that he is ultimately alone. Now that he has a handle on his emotions and knows that he needs to be strong, the strings weave together. The threads consolidate into a tightrope, providing a concrete form—much like how a singular stick holds little power, but a bundle of them makes them unbreakable. Sakura can now properly ground his emotions, and he tentatively uses the rope to traverse his life instead of remaining listless.
Yet he still remains in the dark, because Sakura is still not processing his emotions healthily. His strength and anger alone will not fix his problems. The only path Sakura can walk on is one with unsteady footing and no support. Regardless of his new developments, nobody is coming to help Sakura. Nobody will accept him, or catch him if he falls. So Sakura lives his life teetering on the edge, suspended on a frail tightrope in the air.
Somewhere down the line, Sakura discovers Makochi and Furin. He is no longer alone, and the people there do accept him. Despite outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings, Sakura heavily internalizes his faults. He truly believes his peers won’t accept him for his mistakes, because all Sakura has ever known is unjust rejection from others. He continues to walk down this narrow, unstable path of self doubt.
So what did Sakura need to do? Simply jump off the tightrope. Stop whittling the most human part of him into a complex. He needed to fall from the sky and cease his consistent isolation to let others accept him. The Earth only scared Sakura because he had spent so much of his life simply floating in a dark void. And that darkness made him unable to see any semblance of land below.
Letting go of the tightrope allowed Sakura to be vulnerable and properly express his feelings. Sakura was never going to die if he fell; he only landed on the soft grass that was always below him. Even if it took many years, he finally found a home and community that would ground him. One that will accept Sakura for who he is, give him a proper sense of belonging, with no more strings attached.
But in Chapter 218, the once discarded strings are now present. Faced with the betrayal from one of her closest friends, Sakura’s emotions are haywire. Suo’s defection traumatizes Sakura so much that his old complexes even resurface in the form of the same strings. Only, Sakura isn’t alone in the darkness—Suo is by his side this time! Yet the thread that makes up their bodies frays when their shoulders come into contact. Suo has now become a part of Sakura’s mental landscape, albeit negatively. Sakura has not only lost Suo as a person, but the friendship with his vice captain.
However, these strings simultaneously connect Suo and Sakura. In a way they are even merging together. The fact that Suo is composed of string could indicate that he too faced the same emotional struggles as Sakura. It makes sense given how repressed Suo is, and why he is able to give personal advice to Sakura so easily.
Conversely, Suo too lost his bond with Sakura after he had to withdraw from Furin. They’re two sides of the same coin—or maybe two sides of a thin, frail string.
