Ache
By Dan'yu
Author's Notes: The aftermath of Haru's Black episode in Book 8, Ch. 43. A reimaging of Drabble #35: Storm of Fleeting Moments.
The water was cool against his bare skin, his shirt shed on the ground beside him, raising goose bumps in the chill made by the rain. Rain fell in torrents, in thick, impenetrable sheets that obscured any vision more than a few inches before his eyes. The skies were an endless puzzle of wild patterns of gray and black and cobalt blue, violently changing as the rain pelted down, lightning crashed in the clouds and thunder rumbled prophetically in the distance.
He closed his eyes and threw back his head, the pelting droplets harsh against vulnerable, naked skin as he stood bared in the middle of the storm. Rivulets streamed down his face, plastering his hair against his skull. The tension faded from his body in the wake of the renewing vigor of the storm, as the water washed over him, his anger and pain faded with it. His body finally calmed in the violent aftermath of the emotional rollercoaster he'd been through that day.
So little time had passed since that day he had gone to Rin in the hospital, and with a handful of careless words, had his heart ripped to shreds and shoved back at him. He was haunted by dark eyes that had once looked at him with such love and warmth frozen and distant beyond redemption, the cold ice of hatred freezing them against his silent pleas for forgiveness and understanding.
Rin…
"Haru?! What on earth are you doing?!"
Haru slowly turned his head toward the front door of his family home to see his mother standing in the entrance, staring at him in horror and puzzled concern. "Hatsuharu! Come in here right now!"
His lips, long turned blue in the cold, slowly curled into a mirthless smile, imagining her shock. She had already had to pick him up that afternoon after he tore apart his classroom, now she was finding him half-naked in the middle of a rainstorm. What would the neighbors think? What could be wrong with her odd, troubled son now?
He turned back toward the house, and began trudging through the yard quickly deepening in water. His uniform pants were caked in mud from the knees down, the fabric formfitting in their soaked state, completely drenched through. When he finally made his way through the door, his mother shooed inside, throwing a towel around his shoulders and another at his head, vigorously drying his hair.
"Good gods, Haru. You could make yourself ill doing things like that."
He blinked at her through the folds of the towel, his face falling into a blank expression, feeling mildly surprised that as she led him to the living room, she did not say a word about the mud he was trailing on the clean carpets. Instead, she hovered like a mother hen.
"What am I going to do with you? You're going to march yourself to the shower right now and warm yourself up! You could have caught your death out there! I'll make you some tea when you're done, and we'll talk. Honestly, Haru! What were you thinking?"
Wordlessly, Haru stared down at his mud-caked feet, unnoticing of the sudden warmth as she continued to towel him off.
"Mom?"
"Yes, dear?"
"It-It hurts."
The broken, hoarse quality to his voice must have caught her attention, because she paused in her ministrations and looked at him with a worried gaze. "What hurts?"
"My heart."
She peered down at him, finally taking a good look at her son for the first time that afternoon, at the stark pain in his eyes. "Oh, my baby."
When he began to cry, she pulled him as close as she dared. His body began to shake from his sobs and she closed her eyes, tearing up herself at his pain. Whatever had happened, it had broken her little boy's heart, and as she pressed her lips to his forehead, she gently began to rock. She couldn't make it better, but perhaps, she could help him ride out the ache.