Maple Memories {A Fem!JapanXMale!Reader}

Sakura was startled by the sudden, overwhelming warmth she felt as she walked past the Japanese maple tree. The Autumn weather had caused the leaves of the beauteous tree to turn shades of orange, caught between shy yellows and burning reds. The humble maple reminded her of her home that she had left long ago, and the beginnings that she had made in her new home.
Yet…
Something was missing…

Although the space in her heart seemed empty, the organ felt heavy. Almost as if it carried an anonymous burden. She missed her home in Japan, and she missed the family that she left there, but her heart yearned for its entirety to be filled. Although Sakura was uncertain whether her heart felt this way because she, in her young state, was growing older, or if her young emotions were confused, but whatever it was, she sought to find a solution, knowing that it lay not within her country of origin.

She carefully walked up to the tree, touching its bark with her porcelain palm. Her touch was so kind and so gentle as if, not the maple, but her own, delicate hand would break. Although the tree was thin, and not as tall as the other trees, it still appeared grand, its small stature reminding her of her own height compared to many of her friends’.

Her memory reminded her of the homework and other things she had waiting for her at her home. Remorsefully she removed her hand and walked away.

She knew what the next day, and the day after that held in stall for her. All the same, each one holding the same elements as the last, each set in between the hours of the risen sun.



Upon entering her classroom the next day, her suspicions of it being another, repetitious day, were proven incorrect. Students had gathered around a single desk that was regularly vacant. A tuft of hair poked out from the gathering of people that struck Sakura as familiar. It was the short hair of a male, but it was a male she hadn’t seen or heard from in a long time. Sensing the mood of excitement surrounding her, she refrained from speaking and came to the conclusion that he was back.

“Veh, veh! Sakura, Sakura! Did you see?!”  Up came Sakura’s friend, Feliciana. An Italian girl with long, thick brown hair, who wasn’t afraid to stick up for what she believed in. “Hai, Feliciana. I did see.” Sakura replied in a calm voice, as a gentle smile sat upon her face. “It has certainly been a while, hasn’t it? Since he was here…”

The teacher entered the room, as the class representative told their classmates to stand, and bow in respect for their teacher. After their teacher had greeted them and the students greeted the teacher in return, they took their seats and the lesson began. 



Sakura’s mind throughout the entirety of the day was filled with thoughts of his return, and reminding herself to stay focused, which only ended up in her distraction returning like a boomerang at high speed.  She copied the notes form the board, yet none of the teacher’s monotonous words were getting through to her distracted mind. He hasn’t been to school in about a month.
Will he have to repeat the year?
I wonder if… No… I can’t think such things… I must focus on what the teacher is saying…!
I wonder if he remembers where the cafeteria is…
Those were some of the thoughts that swam about her mind like a water polo team in the midst of a game.



On her way home, she felt that sudden wave of warmth that she had the day before, when she walked past the maple tree. She was in the same place that she’d felt it before. Where the humbly burning maple stood, as well as the boy that had returned to her class after so long. She approached as she watched him mirror her actions from the other day, as he delicately placed his hand on the rough trunk of the tree.

Sensing someone behind him, he turned around to see his classmate. “You’re my classmate, aren’t you?” He asked. His only reference being the uniform that they both wore. She slowly nodded as she walked up next to him, Gently handling the leaves. “Do you remember this tree?”

He closed his eyes and dwelled on a thought that sat in his mind, “I can remember the tree, but not its significance…”
“Do you remember that it’s a Japanese maple tree?” His eyes lit up for a brief moment as a spark of memory came back “Yes… That’s right… A Japanese Maple…” He seemed to smile at saying the name of the tree. He turned to look at Sakura, as a zephyr made their clothes dance gently in the wind “I used to come here with you, didn’t I?”
Sakura knew that he hadn’t remembered, but what she did know, was that he had figured it out. “Hai,” She replied. “For having amnesia, you are doing very well to figure out how life was before you had to go to the hospital.”
He looked to the ground with guilt and pain. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you, either…”
“It’s okay, I know,”

He rested his eyes on her once more, “When I went to visit you for the first time in the hospital, you said the same thing. It hurt then, but I knew that it wasn’t your fault,” the gentle wind stopped blowing, “but now you can make a new beginning, you don’t have to be with someone like me anymore. You can make new memories if you wish.” She turned from him, and began to walk away, feeling that no more could really be said, but stopped when he suddenly said his name. He’s… Introducing himself? Sakura spun to meet the image of her classmate with an outstretched hand. “It’s not fair to you that I should erase all that’s happened between you and me. I may not remember what memories we shared, but you do.”
He was right.

Taking his hand, she introduced herself, “Hajimemashite. My name is Sakura Honda.”



From then on they restored their tradition of walking home together, and making sure to stop by the maple, every day they could. There, Sakura would tell him stories of the times that they spent together, and after three months, some of his memories had come back, like the memory of when they found the puppy abandoned in a box on the side of the street, or when Feliciana spilt pasta all over Sakura’s uniform, right before picture day. Although the memories he regained where few, he treasured them. He had also been gathering memories from others at school, as well as his family, those memories, too, where treasures to him, but he began to find that something, that someone, began to become more precious to him than his memories.



The two where walking home like they had all that time. They had already been to the maple tree. He thought to himself all the things he could say to Sakura, all the salutations he could say when he left her for the evening. He then went on to dwell upon the memories that he’d recovered, and the ones that he’d made that day. Upon reaching Sakura’s house, they said their ‘see you tomorrow’s and ‘goodnight’s, but there was something more that he wanted to tell her. “Sakura…” She turned around and acknowledged him. “I’ve been thinking, and… I don’t think I need you to tell me about the times we had together anymore…”

She assessed the situation and believed she understood what he was saying. “I understand.” Her heart bet a tremendous thump, which spread a disgusting feeling throughout her, forcing her to rush into her abode, and allow her tears to leap from her eyes and dive into her pillow in which she wept. The only connection that she felt they shared had been severed.

Sakura felt that the only reason that he stayed her friend was that he felt obliged to. That their friendship almost seemed like a limp string, rather than a solid rope.

He was left there with his hand stretched out as if to catch her, as his mouth hung open. He let his arm and head hang limp, as a sigh freed itself from his lungs, watching with his peripheral vision as the moisture from his breath disappear into oblivion, just like Sakura’s tears into her pillow.



The next day, when he went to school, he noticed that Sakura was nowhere to be seen. He had no choice but to walk home by himself, and there lay Sakura with her eyes shut under the maple, only opening when his footsteps were heard approaching, then opening wider when she realized who it was. Sakura rushed to her feet, filled with adrenaline and was about to run off using her sudden burst of energy, before a hand grabbed her wrist and a silent plea journeyed slowly to her ears, “Don’t go… Please?” She felt the grip on her wrist tighten and loosen. “Last night… Did you mean what you said?” She let her head hang in defeat of trying to run away, and let her hair gently fall to the sides of her face, like a soft, shiny curtain.

He let her go, and the two of them simply stood there, as a car or two drove past. “Yes,” was the simple answer that was given “but you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say to you, last night…”

Sakura prepared herself for the worst, as she unhurriedly turned toward him and looked up at him, as her gentle curtain of silky hair fell, revealing the transparent crystals of tears that clenched onto the bottoms of her eyelids, trying not to fall.

He knew he had to tell her quickly. He pensively and cautiously grabbed her hands with his own. He could feel his heart beat accelerate at the feeling of her hands. They were soft, almost like dough. The setting sun making the red of the leaves around them almost burn with colour. “Sakura, I may not be able to remember all the things we did together before I lost my memory, and I know that it hurt you to hear me say that I don’t want to remember any of the times we spent together in the past… but that’s the thing! I don’t want memories of my past, I want to make new memories...” He tenderly lifted her hand up to his face and closed his eyes, “With you…”
             

He opened his eyes to see tears fleeing down her delicate cheeks, and released one of her hands, to softly brush a small number of tears that strayed from her eyes. Whilst his hand touched her, he cupped her face; his eyes filled with emotion. “I love you…”

A small zephyr blew past them, as the words sunk into her, like an anchor. She sobbed a single time, before leaping toward him, with a grip of her arms, unexpected from her small frame. The rush of her tackle pushed the two to the ground, where he held her fondly as the sun set.