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hajime umemiya x sakura sister!reader, wc: 2.8k, req? no note from sunnie: im so excited I finally got something published for this dynamic, I think it's so so so perf. I have so much to do with this character pairing so this will 100% have multiple parts but as of right now there's no landing page! check back soon!
spoiler warning: set briefly pre noroshi arc but post gravel arc, on an adjusted timeline. heavy spoilers for sakura/umemiya/kotoha backstories. canon angst and mostly compliant. part one of ?
Makochi is not a town you ever thought you’d find yourself in.
It’s small and out of the way. A handful of hours away from your school and house—house, not home, a very important distinction, thank you very much—and basically everything you know. It has a reputation for being dangerous, so much so that your friends had tried to warn you to stay far away. Rumor has it that not even the police bother patrolling the area.
But you’re looking for your younger brother, desperately, and according to the last person that was supposed to care for him, he’s attending the local all-boys school.
Plus, if it comes down to it, you have a mean right hook.
For the first twenty minutes in the foreign town, you’re on edge. Your guard is up, not that that’s anything out of the norm, but you’re looking over your shoulder and keeping a wide distance from everyone. It’s mid-afternoon on a Saturday, and the streets are fairly busy. Your head is on a swivel while you search, but you don’t linger too long in any one spot.
But then you actually start looking.
There’s no gang of thugs on every corner, like you’d been told stories of. Graffiti doesn’t trash every store front and honestly? All you’re seeing are dozens of smiling faces operating their businesses like an average shopping street. It’s starting to seem like everything you’ve been told about Makochi is a bunch of bullshit, which does at least something to settle the ache of your brother living here.
You know he’s sensitive, even if he does everything to make it seem like he’s not.
By the twenty-fifth minute of being in Makochi, you’ve decided the town isn’t everything its rumored legacy says it is. You breathe a little easier and release some of the tension in your shoulders. Some, not all, because you still need to find your brother and with the school closed on Saturday you don’t know exactly where to start.
Your attention drifts towards a shop front called Café Pothos, and something about the allure of a fresh pot of coffee has you dragging your feet inside.
Guilt itches uncontrollably under your skin as you pause your search, but it’s not like you have anything other than the name of the town to go on. There’s no quelling the anger built up inside you at the fact that no one had an actual address for your baby brother.
Well, baby is a stretch, considering he’s a first year in high school, but still. You practically raised him for his first ten years; in your mind, he’s your baby.
A bell chimes over the door as you enter, and quickly you decide that if you lived nearby, you’d be a Pothos regular. It’s a cozy place, with plants climbing the walls and rows of booths lining the window. It’s not packed, which you appreciate, but there are a handful of elderly couples and young teens alike.
You hesitate in the doorway for only a moment before strolling the rest of the way in, finding a seat at the otherwise empty counter. Behind the counter is a girl no more than a few years younger than you. She’s pretty, you think, with short brown hair and a warm smile as she greets you.
“Welcome!” She’s holding a pot of coffee in one hand, the other resting casually on her hip. “What can I get you? Do you need a menu?”
“Just a coffee, please. Cream and sugar.” You shake your head and smile, settling onto the counter stool. Your bag, a small backpack stuffed with a set of overnight clothes, a toothbrush, and your wallet, thuds heavily at your feet.
The waitress snags a mug out from underneath the counter and pours your order. She sets it in front of you with the cream and sugar so you can make it to your liking, but she doesn’t walk away immediately like you expected her to.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” She asks, making friendly conversation. You’re not exactly in the best mood, tracking down your brother and all, but she seems nice and you have enough shitty role models in your life to know how you don’t want to act.
“No,” You admit, stirring in your sugar. You have a serious sweet tooth, something that hasn’t changed since your childhood. It’s something you shared with your brother, then, and you hope you still do. Mentally, you add it to the list of things you want to ask him once you find him. “Is it that obvious?”
“In a town this small, yeah.” She laughs, leaning against the counter in front of you. You can’t help but snort, conceding the fact that Makochi is a town of locals and any outsiders can be picked out immediately. You sort of like the idea of a community that close, but then you think about the reality of that being everyone knows your business. Your skin starts to crawl at the idea of others knowing every detail of your personal life. Any details, really.
“That’s fair.” You nod your head to the side, sipping your perfected coffee. And, yeah, if the food is anywhere near as good as the coffee, you’d be a regular at Pothos.
You open your mouth to say just as much, but the door chime interrupts you almost as much as the loud voice that follows.
“Kotoha! There you are!” It’s a male voice, all sing-song, and one you don’t turn to acknowledge until your waitress sighs with a roll of her eyes. Her casual stance remains loose, but her arms cross and clearly she’s not a fan of the theatrics.
You only have to turn halfway in your seat to find the source, because he’s filling the stool beside you like there’s no others open despite the rest of the counter available. The first thing you notice is how big he is. Tall and broad, his thick muscles are evident even through the material of his shirt.
(And if you’re reading his shirt correctly, it’s one of those cheap promotional shirts businesses offer. His looks like it’s from a barbecue place, which makes you hope he either works at the place or at least is getting compensated for the free advertising.)
His attention is fixed on your waitress, who now you assume is named Kotoha, and you’re able to look a little closer at him.
His hair is stark white, and your heart stutters in your chest for uncomfortably long as you process that it’s not him. There’s a small, thin scar through the eyebrow on his left, the side closest to you, and you can glimpse it through the strands of his hair falling loose in front of bright blue eyes. He’s about your age and smiling wide enough that you’ve forgotten, almost, how annoyed your waitress was at his arrival.
He’s really, really pretty.
“Ignore him, please.” The waitress, Kotoha, you’re almost sure of it, sighs out. You don’t take her completely seriously, not when you can see the hints of a smile curving the corners of her lips.
It’s then that his attention turns towards you for the first time, and you’re almost certain the tips of your ears burn a bright red when you’re pinned under the weight of his stare. His smile is so bright and earnest, you’re almost sick with the feeling.
“Hi, I’m Hajime Umemiya.” He introduces himself, and you distantly wonder if every outsider gets such a warm welcome. You almost hope they don’t, but that’s a ridiculous thing to want. You don’t even know him. “Sorry, did I interrupt your conversation?”
“Yes.” Kotoha is quick to interject, and you snort, darting your attention to her and away from Umemiya, if only to give yourself the chance to think a little clearer.
“Aw, I’m sorry! Please, carry on. You won’t even know I’m here!” He mimes zipping his lips, except he’s still grinning with teeth, so you don’t think the seal is air tight. You’ve known him for all of forty-five seconds, and already you can tell he’s the kind of goofy that brightens other people up with his ridiculousness. It’s probably endearing, for the most part.
Maybe.
“So, what brings you here, anyways?” Kotoha follows her own advice and ignores Umemiya. You want to laugh at their interaction, but you don’t think you know them well enough to. It almost would feel like you’re intruding on something you’re not part of. You’ve always kept that sort of distance between yourself and others.
“Visiting my brother.” You hum, half-lying and not missing a beat. Technically, you are visiting your brother. But your end goal is to get him to leave with you. You’re closing in on an apartment near your school, plenty far from the man you’re unfortunate enough to call your father. Your brother could easily move in with you, transferring to your school so you can finally be together again after five horrible years.
“Oh, what’s his—”
“Kotoha, dear! Can we get a fresh pot please?” One of the older ladies tucked into a booth against the window calls out, interrupting her question.
“Coming, Granny Ito.” Kotoha flashes you a smile before retreating to do her job. You fill the sudden silence with a sip from your own mug, overwhelmingly conscious of the man sitting beside you. With Kotoha gone, there’s no reason for the conversation to continue.
But something about Umemiya tells you that you won’t be that lucky.
“So, is your brother older?” He asks, unprompted. You only blink at first, somehow having already forgotten that Kotoha had been asking you about your brother before walking off. You glance at him beside you, and see from the corner of your eye how Kotoha is now caught up in conversation with other customers.
“Younger.” You answer because that’s not too personal. The handsome stranger turns fully in his seat to face you, and with the spacing between the stools, his legs are so long his knees can’t help but to brush against the outside of your thigh. Your stare dips down to look at the spot where his touch burned for a fraction of a second, only to lift your gaze back up to his innocent eyes. He’s not even aware that he’s touching you, and somehow you’re not totally annoyed by it.
“How come he lives here, and you’re just visiting?” He asks, which, that you consider to be a bit of an overstep for someone who you just met. Though, admittedly, there are normal answers to that question. Yours just doesn’t fall into that category, at all.
“Do you always ask such personal questions to strangers?” You’re glaring, now, but you can’t put much heat behind the look. You’re defeated by the wholly unsettling knowledge that when you do, when you scowl and frown and glare, you look terribly similar to your father. The thought makes you frown; you’re locked in a wicked cycle.
“Huh?” Umemiya asks, leaning back slightly like the idea of the question being a bit much for otherwise complete strangers never occurred to him. You were right. He is a bit endearing. And he doesn’t look offended by the bitter look you flung at him, which you feel yourself being relieved over. “I’m getting to know you. That way, we won’t be strangers.”
You have to pause at the simplicity of his statement. Getting to know people has never been easy for you. It’s hard to bridge the gap when you don’t trust anyone but the one person you were ripped away from five years ago.
But… this Umemiya. This random person in a random café in a random town you have no intention of staying long in. He’s trying, and for once you want to try, too.
“You’re… interesting.” You say, stare softening from a glare to narrowed curiosity. You turn on your stool, too, and somehow one of your knees ends up slotted between his, resulting in a jigsaw of limbs you’re being very brave about not acknowledging. “My brother and I were separated when we were young.”
He was ten, and you were thirteen. Now, you know you were only just a child. But back then? You felt like you were practically an adult. Surely the only one who knew best, at least.
“I’m sorry. Family’s important.” Umemiya’s demeanor melts into something more serious, and the look in his eyes is somehow both empathetic and hardened. You can read him, then, almost perfectly. This person knows loss. He’s no stranger to the ache steadily carving a bigger and bigger hole in your chest, right where all the most important organs should be.
“Can I tell you something? Since we’re getting to know each other?” You ask before you second guess yourself. It’s easy to talk to him, though, in a way you’ve never found it easy to talk to anyone before. Honestly, it scares you a little bit.
“Of course.”
Despite Umemiya’s quick agreement, you find yourself hesitating. Your body is still turned to face him on the stool, but your gaze is ducked to avoid his. That doesn’t stop him from keeping his unwavering attention on you, seemingly content to wait you out.
You take a steadying breath and force yourself to talk.
“I don’t… I don’t know if my brother will even want anything to do with me.” It takes a lot to bring voice to the nagging worry in your mind. You’re ashamed to almost think it, but there’s a relief, too, in sharing the burden with someone else. You’re not the only one who knows anymore, even if this Umemiya is completely removed from the situation.
“Why’s that?” He asks, and somehow you know he’s being genuine. It’s easier then, to look at him, and you prop your elbow on the counter and lean your cheek against your fist. He’s so much bigger than you, broader, that you find yourself tilting your chin up to look at him.
And yet, it’s far more comforting than anything close to intimidating.
“Because when we were separated… I could have, I don’t know.” You glance away, but only for a moment. It’s easier to say this when you’re saying it to him. Like this person you’ve known for five minutes—and known is a stretch of the word—is far more understanding of your emotions than even you are. “I could have fought harder, I guess. Done something to keep us together. It’s like you said, family’s important. I don’t want him to think I chose… chose someone else.”
You can’t say the words ‘our father’, because giving them voice would feel like you’re owning up to any semblance of a connection between yourself and that man who tore you apart from the only person you think you’ve ever truly loved down to your bones.
“Do you want my advice?” Umemiya asks, still carrying that same seriousness you hadn’t realized he was capable of when he first entered the café shouting like a goofball.
“Sure, random person I met at a café I’ll probably never see again.” You snort at the ridiculousness of it all. Makochi was never a town you thought you’d end up in, and if you get your way, your brother will leave with you. He cracks a grin at your words, but his smile is soft enough to convey to you how genuine he’s being.
“Talk to him.” He says, as if it’s that simple. His knee knocks against yours, as if he needed to nudge you to make sure you were paying attention. You don’t think your attention truly has left him once since he entered. “Share a meal. Explain what happened. All you can do is try.”
You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about his words. He’s right, you know. But you’re not used to guys your age with his level of wisdom or solid advice. He’s been through something, maybe more than a few somethings, so heavy it forced him to grow up quicker than expected. You know it’s true, because that’s what happened to you.
It makes his goofy side all the more endearing, you decide. You’re almost sad you’ll never see him after this.
“You’re right.” You tell him, straightening up in your seat so you can sip your cooling coffee. He knocks his knee against yours again, and your ears burn when you meet his stare.
“Good luck.” He’s smiling again, and it makes his eyes just that much brighter. You’re unfamiliar with the way your heart thumps in your chest, but you’re not naïve. “And, I’m glad we got to talk.”
You bump your knee against his, too.
“Yeah, me too.”
You think of your brother, then. Of how you might find him and what you’re going to say to convince him to hear you out.
I’m coming, Haruka, You think, almost desperate. Please, just let me explain.
this is for everyone who's been here since I started the blog over a year ago and talked nonstop about umemiya x sakura sister!reader and anyone who plans to stick around now
