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It took a while for Umemiya to notice, but someone had been helping out with his rooftop garden.
He knew it wasn’t Sugashita, since the first-year always made sure to tell him whenever he was up there.
He had denied involvement the moment Umemiya casually mentioned the changes. “It wasn’t me,” he said firmly, like even being accused of improper plant care was offensive, and Umemiya believed him.
If he so much as mentioned checking the soil, Sugashita would already be halfway up the stairs to help. He’d come to depend on him a lot when things got busy, but that’s exactly why Umemiya didn’t breathe a word about the mysterious helper.
If Sugashita found out someone was touching “Umemiya-san’s plants” without permission, he’d probably organize a patrol rotation and start questioning every student at Furin.
It started small. A pot moved to the other side. A couple of weeds disappeared. Little things that Umemiya barely noticed and shrugged off in the end.
Then the changes became harder to ignore.
A once-dirty garden trowel was now shining brand-new, and fresh seeds were perfectly planted in tidy rows. The soil was evenly turned, and the watering can was completely refilled. Even his tools, the ones he could never be bothered to arrange properly, were cleaned and neatly lined up.
At first, Umemiya was worried whoever it was might compromise his plants, however pure their intentions were. But it turned out his worry was for nothing. If anything, his babies had never looked happier.
Even Hiragi commented on it, and Umemiya knew Hiragi wouldn’t feed his ego if he could help it.
“Something’s different,” Hiragi had muttered, squinting at the bell peppers. “They look less… neglected.”
“Neglected?!” Umemiya gasped, clutching his chest. “Hiragi, that’s cruel!”
Hiragi just rolled his eyes. “Then maybe take better care of them, Captain.”
The thing was, Umemiya couldn’t think of a single guy at Furin High besides Sugashita who was even decent at taking care of plants. He’d basically had to hammer the basics into Hiragi and Kaji’s heads in case of emergencies. Tsubaki was enthusiastic, sure, but somehow every plant touched ended up dead. Everyone else was too busy training and fighting to care about the garden.
All of this left Umemiya incredibly curious and motivated with one goal in mind: catch the green-thumbed phantom!
His plan was simple.
The person seemed to come at random times during the day, so surely if he stayed up there long enough, hidden underneath a spare tarp, he would see them.
It was foolproof, he told himself. And if Sugashita asked what he was doing, well… Umemiya would just tell him he was testing soil humidity. No need to get his most devoted follower involved just yet.
So he packed a to-go box with omurice from Kotoha and got there early to prepare for the stakeout.
By noon, the sun had turned his hiding spot into a personal sauna. He lasted three hours before falling asleep.
When he woke from Hiragi hitting him, the sky was golden, and his plants were freshly watered again.
“Unbelievable!” he groaned, sitting up. “They’re a gardening ninja!”
Hiragi blinked at the sight of his captain covered in the tarp and dirt. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Umemiya said dramatically. “Just hunting for justice.”
Hiragi didn’t even ask.
After several more failed attempts where he tried to be sneaky, Umemiya finally gave up. The phantom gardener had bested him. Whoever they were, they clearly knew how to avoid being caught.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. Every morning, the garden greeted him brighter than before. The vegetables seemed to stand taller, leaves glossy and green. It was like the whole place was humming with secret care.
One sweltering afternoon, however, disaster struck.
Between dealing with a new gang stirring up trouble and managing his own men, Umemiya hadn’t had a moment to breathe, let alone check the weather for the day. He missed the heatwave warnings completely. It was Kaji, of all people, who mentioned it offhandedly first.
When he finally raced up to the rooftop after lunch, he froze.
The plants were wilting, and the soil was dry and cracked under the weight of the heat.
His heart dropped into his stomach, and he was prepared to immediately start working on them.
But before he could reach them, he stopped short.
Someone was already there, and he just didn’t see them at first.
Sakura
He walked and kneeled right beside the garden. In just a t-shirt, he carefully watered each pot in slow, even motions. His brow was furrowed in concentration, lips pressed together as he checked each plant like he was guarding something fragile. A few spare sheets of cardboard leaning against the railing acted as makeshift shade he’d apparently rigged up to protect the weaker seedlings.
The sun made his hair glow and sweat shine. His jacket lay discarded nearby, and his face was flushed from the heat, but he didn’t seem to care.
He looked beautiful.
Umemiya froze.
For once, he didn’t immediately announce himself. He just stood there, words stuck in his mouth, as he quietly watched the younger boy work with the same kind of care he gave his plants.
Warmth was spreading throughout his body from his chest, and there was a strange hunger building in his being.
Sakura noticed him eventually, eyes going wide. “Umemiya!” He nearly dropped the watering can. “I—uh—I can explain!” Then he seemed to remember himself and started yelling and pointing. “Why are you standing there like a creep, huh?! You wanna go?!”
Umemiya broke into his usual sunshine grin. “So you’re my little phantom gardener!”
“Phantom… huh?!”
“The mysterious green thumb who’s been helping my plants!” Umemiya said proudly, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ve been sneaking up here this whole time, haven’t you?”
If Sakura wasn’t scarlet already from the heat, now he definitely was. “I wasn’t sneaking! I just—you always look so busy, and the plants looked like they needed care, so I—” He trailed off, clearly mortified and out of his element.
Umemiya’s wide grin softened into something gentler.
“You did all this because you were worried about me?”
Sakura stiffened immediately, ears already turning pink too. “What? No! Don’t make it sound weird.”
Umemiya’s grin widened. “Then why’d you do it, hmm?”
“For the plants!” Sakura blurted, crossing his arms like that settled it. “You’re always saying they’re important. Somebody had to step in before they dried up and died.”
“Ah, I see, I see.” Umemiya nodded solemnly. “A selfless act of heroism. Truly noble.”
Sakura groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Stop making fun of me.”
“I’m not! I’m touched!”
“You’re loud.” Sakura shot back, but his voice cracked a little near the end. His cheeks were still bright red as he mumbled, “They’re strong, though. You’ve raised them well.”
Umemiya blinked, thrown for a second by how soft his tone was. “You really do like them, huh?”
Sakura shrugged, looking away. “…They’re calming. Easier to deal with than people.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Sakura muttered; his eyes had a faraway look in them. “They’re easier to understand.”
Umemiya didn’t tease him for that. If he could, he’d hunt down everyone from Sakura’s past who made him feel unaccepted and give them a friendly talking to. Instead, he smiled and joined him, crouching beside the vegetables. They spent the next hour checking each pot, trading advice about fertilizers and watering schedules. Sakura showing off an impressive amount of knowledge from a gardening book he found in a dumpster once.
Umemiya showed him how to tell when the soil was too dry, and Sakura, gruffly but helpfully, pointed out a few ways to tell when the leaves were drooping before it showed.
The conversation was quiet, simple, and easy in a way neither of them expected. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was steady, filled with the hum of insects and the soft rustle of leaves.
When the sun dipped low, Umemiya finally broke it. “You know, Sakura, you’re full of surprises.”
Sakura gave him a wary look. “That’s not… a bad thing, right?”
“Not at all!” Umemiya laughed, stretching his arms toward the orange sky. “It’s great! I thought I was the only one who got this worked up over plants.”
Sakura huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’re still the strangest one here.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment!”
“You would,” Sakura muttered, but there was no bite in it this time.
When they started cleaning up, Umemiya caught him glancing toward the door like he was already planning to sneak away again.
“You don’t have to sneak around anymore, you know,” Umemiya said gently, without looking at him. “You can come up here whenever you want.”
Sakura froze mid-motion, hair covering his face, pretending to adjust a pot. “…I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You could never bother me,” Umemiya said simply, waiting until Sakura looked him in the eyes to say the next part. “You made this place better.”
That was all it took; Sakura’s ears went bright red again. “You talk too much,” he muttered, trying to hide his face behind a leaf.
“And yet you keep listening,” Umemiya teased.
Sakura scowled, but a laugh slipped out anyway. It was quiet, startled, and completely genuine.
A few days later, Hiragi cornered Umemiya by the stairwell.
“So,” he said, arms folded tightly. “You found your mysterious gardener.”
Umemiya blinked, playing innocent. “Who, me? Whatever do you mean?”
Hiragi’s frown deepened. “It was Sakura, wasn’t it?”
Umemiya froze. “…How did you—”
“You’ve been smiling like an idiot for three days,” Hiragi said flatly.
Caught, Umemiya rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “He’s a good kid. Didn’t want to scare him off by making it a big deal.”
“…If you say so, Umemiya-san.”
That evening, the sunset turned the sky into gold and pink.
Umemiya sat against the railing, watching Sakura move more quietly than he’s ever seen him do around the rows of vegetables. The light stretched long shadows across the rooftop, turning the leaves into a patchwork of copper and green.
There wasn’t much up here, but it was home. His sanctuary above the noise.
Sakura didn’t belong in a place like this. Not in his quiet. He was supposed to belong to the streets, to the chaos, and to the first-years. But there he was anyway, carefully adjusting the stakes on the tomato vines so they wouldn’t sag in the wind.
He looked like he’d done it a thousand times before. Like he was born to be there.
Umemiya’s chest ached in a way he couldn’t quite name yet.
He thought back to the first little changes he’d noticed weeks ago: the moved pots, the clean tools, and the refilled watering can. He’d joked about a phantom helper, some kind spirit drawn to his plants.
Now he knew better.
It wasn’t a spirit. It was Haruka Sakura, all stubborn will and shy kindness. The same kid who’d punched his way into Furin and somehow made it better just by being there.
And yet, watching him now, Umemiya couldn’t shake the feeling that the rooftop had brought him here on purpose. That all the sunlight and soil and wind had worked together to reel in something rare and radiant, something too good for him to touch.
The vegetables thrived under his care. So, apparently, did Umemiya’s heart.
He smiled to himself, a low, almost disbelieving sound. “Guess you really are something else, huh, Sakura?”
Sakura looked up, blinking. “Huh? What are you mumbling about now?”
“Nothing!” Umemiya called back, still grinning. “Just thinking the garden’s never looked better.”
Sakura frowned, suspicious, brushing dirt from his hands. “Whatever.”
The sunset caught in Sakura’s hair again, and, for a heartbeat, Umemiya forgot to breathe. The sight was too bright, too alive. The whole rooftop felt like it was holding its breath, afraid to break the moment.
He looked away before he could start believing that someone like Sakura could really exist in the same world as him, let alone up here, in his garden.
The vegetables rustled softly in the wind. The air smelled of soil and freshness, ripe and living.
Umemiya laughed under his breath, though there was something rougher beneath it.
He’d built this garden to grow something simple.
He hadn’t expected it to lure in the sun itself.