Work Header

overgrown garden

Work Text:

A parallel world is often described as unstable; there is no way to know if the impacts of your decisions will ever leak through. The effects of leaving the portal open were far too potent to continue; the inhabitants had seen far too much to bring themselves to leave it open.

Still, it was difficult to rid themselves completely of the world they once knew-- it was a world nonetheless, built with city and trees and rubble (which admittedly haunted a few of them, hesitantly stealing a glance at the battered remains of the Skyscraper in the waking world despite it never leaving the other) and land, and for some it was the most home they'd had in a while. Perhaps that was the driving force to be kind to it for the last time-- a page of both its life and her own crossed out for the one who shared its namesake.

None had any idea how to properly mourn a city, let alone a universe; but as Sakura sealed the world off with flowers-- pink carnations and chrysanthemums-- dropped as one final act of selfish code, the inhabitants figured that was all that could be done.

A world is not stopped by its inhabitants. Nature exists as a force of its own, taking and giving against any human interference; without anyone there to stop it, gradual shades of pink began to sprout up into the streets-- in a world where none would ever know again, Sakurai bloomed.

And for the first and last time, the city was seen in rose-colored lenses.