RinHaru Week: Day 3: Magnetism
Do you know how the flowers bloom?
Is it as fair as they say?
I know how the flowers sway in the whispering breeze
I count their petals in a bouquet.
Please tell me the jokes that make you laugh
I wonder if I'll laugh along
Can you show me that smile—I haven't seen it in a while
Do you still remember our song?
Can you tell me the date today?
Is it true you've been to the moon?
I only know of the past and now
I've lost track of time.
Won't you tell me a story?
Do you remember how we met?
I remember the puddles and the splashy rain
I remember you shouting my name.
-123anime
Was it two, three years ago? He can't remember. It still feels like yesterday, when their youngest son asked him why he's so short.
"I'm not short," he says, after a pause.
Indigo eyes look right back confidently, "Yes you are."
He feels a vein twitch, and wonders if his son had been taught this by someone else. He throws an accusing look at his suspect, who is putting on Tatomi's brown squeaky shoes. His shoulders are suspiciously shaking.
"You're shorter than Papa."
"No, I'm not."
"Papa said so."
Haru's detective skills are on point today.
"I said that when we were buying Daddy's jacket, Requin!"
Ignoring the perpetrator, he aims his next set of words in the dead center of indigo eyes instead, "Well, Papa's wrong."
Confusion clouds Requin's face, and laughter erupts from behind them. Tatomi tugs at a stray lock of red hair, and starts laughing as well. "Haru," he's shaking his head with a charming grin, that makes Haru wants to say Stop, because he's going to say something so cheesy, and weird, but also something so flipping romantic, he doesn't even know how—"The jacket fit you perfectly."
He huffs, and straightens the collar on Requin's raincoat, "That has nothing to do with this."
Another smile, and a wink, "It means I was right about your size."
Some days when he's not in a rush, he lies in bed, only half-awake. He keeps his eyes closed, and sinks into the warmth of the blanket, left over from a night of non-continuous sleep. If he relaxes, it feels like it's just another morning, and an arm is draped over his chest on top of the blanket, so that he can't feel it until he gets up.
Then he'll be pulled down and pecked on the forehead, "Good morning, Haru."
"Daddy's awake!" and the door will burst open, with a pair of excited feet thumping across the wooden floor. The mattress will bounce as their three-year-old son jumps on and wriggle his arms under the blankets, and wrap them around him, "'Morning, Daddy!"
He'll smile, and give the expectant cheek that's tilted up a kiss.
"Where's my morning kiss, huh?"
A giggle, then Requin will lean over while still in his lap, "Good morning, Papa!"
Depending on the noise level, they would hear gurgling sounds from the room next door, or hear a wailing sound later as they finish up breakfast.
It's not healthy, he knows, to sleep in a cologne-filled space, even though 'I only spray a bit,' he tells the closer ones who he allows into the bedroom. Makoto's eyes had clouded over, while Nagisa started to cry. Sousuke simply shook his head, but mercifully hadn't said a word.
It had been hard on Requin, because he too remembered. These days the routines are a little different.
He lies with his eyes closed, until the faint squeak of the door hinge wipes away the strands of sleep left, and his covers are pulled at.
"Daddy!" is all his daughter can say, while scrambling to pull off his blankets, the unsaid 'Wake up!' projecting loudly from her movements. Then Requin would follow, light fading from indigo eyes every time, an echo of Haru's own sentiments, when he sees the absence of another body in the bed.
"Good morning, Requin," he whispers.
Requin doesn't tilt his cheek up anymore, but stares out the window instead, "Morning Daddy." His eyes get a far-away look, the same one Rin wore when they were still 17, and in a whisper so quiet he says, "Good morning, Papa," using proper grammar, like a gentleman. Haru only knew what he said by the motion of his lips. Then he'd lie down next to Haru, and bury his face into the unoccupied pillow, while Tatomi settles herself in between, chattering happily.
The only reason he never sprayed the cologne on his own clothes was because he was afraid he would lose it completely, he would forget reality. He looks at the two figures that had gotten significantly taller, and where would they be if they lost the two of them?
"Outside, Daddy?" her voice is high-pitched and magical as she uses her limted vocabulary, the voice Rin never heard, other than laughter and baby-talk.
Rin.
"Rin!" He quickens his pace, "Slow down."
Rin laughs, the wind tossing his front bangs in the air, temptingly, "Come on, then," he says, holding out his hand invitingly. The first droplets of rain have started to fall, turning the usual wine red a darker shade. He frowns, and the silver ring around his neck seems to get heavier, and takes his hand. A hand instantly snakes around his neck, and pulls up his jacket hood. He tries to pull it down, but the hand keeps it there.
"Rin, I don't—"
An arm presses at his side as Rin lopes his other arm around the crook of his elbow, and pull him closer, "Don't give me that crap about feeling the water. It's a shitty flu season, and you're not about to get sick before our vacation."
He rolls his eyes, "In two weeks."
"Still. Even the tulips haven't bloomed yet; they'll just get knocked down by this."
He is about to pull up Rin's hood too, until he realizes he doesn't have one, "You'll get sick."
He's caught Rin off-guard, but Rin only shrugs good-naturally, "I'll be fine, I got the vaccination last week along with Requin, unlike you." Smiling red eyes say Wimp, and his say, I didn't need to. The water will not reject me.
"Your white blood cells might, and there won't be much your water can do by itself," the smirk on his face is annoyingly cocky, and Haru wishes nothing more than to wipe it off with some next-level retort, "But you have me here to take care of you, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you get sick."
The droplets are falling faster now, droplets dripping down the wet maroon locks and he wants nothing more than to drag them home and kiss every inch of Rin's face until it's dry. He slips his elbow out of Rin's grip, and grabs Rin's hand instead. It's cold and hot at the same time, and he hurriedly slips their entwined hands back into his coat, "There's a book store ahead. Let's get out of the rain."
I can't even walk into the book store anymore. Not by myself, at least. Even then, it feels like watching a main character go down to the basement with a flashlight, while they're at home by themselves and they heard a noise downstairs, and the power is out too, and everyone's sitting on the edge of their seat—
"Daddy?" Tatomi's looking up and him with expectant eyes.
"No sneakers, Tomi-chan," he looks at her dress and sighs, "Jacket, hey, where's your jacket?"
"No!"
"You can show Papa your new jacket."
"Not new." A hand-me-down, the rest of her face said. From Requin, from back then.
He pushes the thought away, and decides to stick to simplicity, "I like it."
Her brows furrow as she processes his words, and then she stretches out her hands, "Okay."
He holds it out, and she puts it on, one arm at a time, carefully. It's silent upstairs, and he sighs again, "No going outside without Requin, okay?"
An affirmative nod.
"I better see how Requin's getting along," he turns and heads upstairs.
"Daddy?" He pauses on the staircase, hand resting on the railing. "Can I wear my red rain boots?" His foot freezes in mid step, and his fingers clench involuntarily around the curves on the wood. "Daddy okay?" her voice at the end trails a little higher, with a sharp doze of uncertaincy.
"Yes, of course, Tatomi." The same colour, but not quite. Your hair was more wine red, like hers, but lighter. No artificial red could replace it.
The light turns a white-green, and they pick up their pace, ending up near the end of the small crowd of pedestrians. He takes an extra-long stride to avoid the small puddle of water near the curb, Rin's hand still in his pocket. The hand creeps up the edge of his sleeve, and curls around the warm circle his wrist, and he flnches at the temperature, "I'm not your personal heater."
Rin flashes his teeth as his lips split into a grin, "You are in bed."
His eyes instantly trace the sharp point up to the curve of pink lips that have a faint trace of blue from the cold, "But we're not in bed." He shoves their entwined hands deeper into his pocket. Hurry up and get warm already. "I should've got you mittens instead of chocolate."
The curve tilts down into a pout, "But I like your chocolate."
He huffs and looks at the ground, Your health is more important than chocolate, "I could've made it another time."
Red is invading his personal space again, a cold nose pressing against his cheek, "It wouldn't be the same," he stretches out the last word, octaves rising up the staircase. Then he draws back with a glint in his eye, "But what I really want now, Haru—"
He puts down his tulip, a mixture of yellow and red, freshly cut from their garden at home. The ocean waves crash gently on the high rocks surrounding the edge of the dirt path, and he studies the stone they had picked out together.
It had been a random conversation, and he's not exactly sure how the topic was brought up, but now he's glad they had it.
They're on the couch, Rin's head on his lap.
"The water."
Haru hmms, and continues to read.
"If it were to happen," He looks away from his book, and his hand stroking Rin's locks still. "I don't think I'd..." Rin pauses, and he waits for him to continue, eyes fixed on him in silent encouragement. "I'd want to swim, and keep swimming. I don't think I'll ever understand your crap about the water being alive, but as long as I'm in the water, as long as we are connected by the water, I'm sure...we'll meet again."
For a moment, they couldn't hear anything except for the quiet ticking of the clock, and the silent snores of their little ones in the bedroom. Haru turns back to his book, "Romantic." Yet he finds himself wondering the same thing, and he looks down again, fingertips dancing along Rin's strong jawline.
"What about you?"
He tries, he really does, but no place seems to come to mind, "I don't really care, as long as we can stay together."
He hadn't known what to do, no one did. Makoto gently reminded him that they would support his decision, no matter what it was, and Rin would too. "...as long as I'm in the water, as long as we are connected by the water, I'm sure..." "
"The water," he finally said, "By the ocean. Then we could visit him more often. The water will take care of him."
Sousuke had broken out into laughter right then, and Makoto looked almost relieved, "Honestly Haru," his voice was rough, almost like sand paper from not speaking for a while. He remembers looking tentatively at Sousuke, confused but also seeking for approval, because although he and Rin had been married, Sousuke knew Rin since he was a kid. "Sounds like something Rin would like, 'real romantic'."
Something Rin would like...
It hadn't felt right though, to not leave a marker. He remembers taking the two around the city, he remembers Requin saying "Papa would like this." He remembers seeing the waterfall of tears pouring down, not stopping, because it had been so long since they mentioned Rin. They tried planting tulips beside it, but the water quenched it when the tide rose.
Tatomi is twirling around, showing off to the ocean her hand-me-down jacket. The stone, in a way, was simply something to start of the tradition of visiting. She then lays down a pastel-pink tulip, almost the same colour as cherry blossoms when they first bloom, and slips her hand in his.
Her hair is tousled by the wind, and he thinks about how she doesn't remember, not really, she had been too young, yet she is the one that resembles Rin the most.
Rin.
A blue tulip, with indigo on the edge, drifts down and settles on top of theirs.
"Papa, we love you!" Requin blows a kiss.
Then he draws back with a glint in his eye, "But what I really want now, Haru—"
What Rin, what did you want?
Dark, but he's been around Rin enough now to navigate with limited light. His tongue brushes soft flesh, and he feels the other shudder. "Rin—"
"I'm okay, I'm good," is the response, and then the other's lips are moving too. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in, wary of the spotlight five inches away, Rin—
I miss you. His fingers brush his own lips that are tingling with the memory.
"Come on, it's getting windy up here." He takes Tatomi's hand, but Requin lags behind, "Requin, come on. Hold my hand."
'Requin.'
Do you remember, Rin? When Nagisa said we should give our son a french name, since you loved french food so much? You use to light up when I served Boef Bourguignon at supper. You'd always bring back a bag of croissants, even though the bakery was on the other side of the city. They built a new one, you know, only a fifteen minute walk from our place.
Anyways, you took Nagisa's suggestion seriously. I can't believe I agreed to that. And then you settled on "Requin", since he had your teeth, and he was in your stomach. I'm just glad our son goes to school in Japan, and not France. Can you imagine what would've happened?
...But I kind of like that. "Requin." It sounds special, and fast. It must have a deeper meaning buried somewhere; it can't just mean "shark".
I bet you'd be able to find it, the special meaning.
Or come up with your own.
It's hard when he asks questions I cannot answer.
But you would be able to.
"Daddy," a tug on his sleeve, "Will Papa come back one day?"
There's a loud blare of a truck horn, and a single scream of terror pierces their crowd.
There are no screech of tires, or anything else at all. Heavy weight knocks into him, sending him flying backwards. His head hits something soft, and his elbows crash on the cement curb. He can't breath as something lands on top of him, and Rin's shoulder hits his jaw. Somewhere in between, his mind registers the sound of metal crushing metal, and silence.
He's being crushed, all at once, and he can hear wheezing, coughing, but he's not sure who's it is.
He lies there, dazed, inhaling a scent he knows only too well. Two scents, actually. He sees the tanned colour of Rin's jacket, and can feel soft locks tickle the tip of his ear.
"Rin?" it's not his voice, though it came out of his voice box. It's quiet, almost too quiet to be heard above the screams, and the wailing siren in the distance. There's no response, so he tries again, "Rin?" He tries to lift his head to get a better view, and finds himself trapped in Rin's embrace.
His brain doesn't process anything as he stares, and stares. He can't see Rin's face, and he starts wondering if it really is Rin, because there's too much red, and he doesn't think Rin should be having a black piece of who knows what in his back. There's pieces of the who knows what scattered all over the place, but he knows it's Rin, but Rin is suppose to be warm, not cold, and definitely not wet—
Then it clicks, and his heart is pounding, his head is pounding, everything's blurring together, as he struggles to Focus, because Rin needs you. He slides himself out, lifting his head from the cushion of Rin's arm, and all he can say is "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." He turns Rin around gently, forgetting the potential of a spinal injury, forgetting everything he learned during his First Aid re-cert a year ago as panic takes over. The eyes are closed, but there's no sign of breathing, and Rin's skin is so cold. He touches the side of his neck.
Somebody's gripping his shoulder, gently but firmly, and saying words that he can't process because Rin. Hot water is trickling down his cheeks and his hand shakes, terrified of not finding a pulse.
"Rin!"
The face he kissed, the face he touched, the body that layed on top of his, the wine red locks that were too red.
"Rin!"
He would relive the moment over and over again, because at least in that moment, Rin was still alive.
"I don't know, Requin. I don't know."
The three figures tread down the narrow path, through the grass to where their car is parked beside the busy convenience store. "The water," had been his first words, when they were discussing the burial site. It's only right. He loved the water. Or maybe he was getting confused with himself, because he loves the water.
"...we'll meet again."
"Don't be stupid, if you love the water, I do too. I love you more, though."
"That's stupid."
"Hah?! Don't you love me more than the water?"
"No." Yes.
"You're so mean, Haru!"
"…" I love you more.
"…Well, I guess that means I love you more. "
He doesn't reply; he continues to run the brush through Tatomi's damp red hair, keeping an eye on Requin who's playing with the blocks.
"Haru," He feels warmth draped across his back, "That means I will always stay by your side."
Rin.
The three figures pause, and say hello to old Kasabura-san, carrying her monthly purchase of cat food.
The waves crash against the rocks, and thirty feet away, a silver tail flips high up, as a pair of ruby eyes watch them leave.