Disclaimer: I do not own Free!

Okay, this is finally the edited version of the first chapter! I got this lovely idea from marukaprompts (if you're not following this blog on tumblr, I suggest you do, especially if you're a writer!), and well, here we are. This was actually meant to be just a really long one shot, but I don't know, I guess it just had a mind of its own! Enjoy!

Chapter 1

He was five the first time he noticed it.

The sound of his mother's voice, loud and impatient, roused him from his sleep. She didn't even bother entering his room, calling him from the first floor, telling him to hurry and get dressed, that breakfast was almost ready and that he didn't want to be late for his first day of kindergarten. However, Haru refused to open his eyes and stayed in bed, a small act of defiance; though, it wasn't necessarily geared towards his mother, but rather, the changing of seasons.

He just couldn't believe it. Summer was officially over, which meant no more staying up till ten or waking up past eight, no more helping around the kitchen or eating freshly cooked mackerel for lunch. And that wasn't even the worst of it. Because for Haru, school meant a lot more than waking up too early and making a few superficial changes in routine. Most importantly—and much to his dismay—it meant no more swimming whenever he wanted.

Haru frowned, pulling the covers over his head. Maybe, he thought with a flicker of hope, if he pretended he was still sleeping his mother would give up on the whole school idea and take him to the pool instead.

And then he felt a tug.

At first, Haru thought he was just imagining things, shutting his eyes even tighter as he heard his mother call his name once more. But then he felt it again, another tug, a little stronger this time. It was coming from his right pinky, tugging with just enough force to pull his hand from the confines of his covers and into the open air, compelling him to finally forget his present endeavor and investigate.

Curious, Haru sat up and examined his right hand, eyes widening when he saw the red string tied around his pinky—which was odd because aside from the occasional tug, it felt as if nothing was there. And no matter what he did, it wouldn't come off. He tried scissors; he tried his teeth; he even tried to use his toys. But the string remained on his finger, tugging, and Haru couldn't help but stare at it in awe, wondering just how his mother did it without him noticing.

But when he finally ran downstairs to ask, following the red string out of his room and into the kitchen, his mother wouldn't hear a word of it, instructing Haru to eat his breakfast as she rushed to get her keys and her purse. He only had ten minutes he heard her say from the living room, asking what took him so long when she reentered the kitchen. However, when Haru stopped mid-chew to explain, she wagged her finger and shushed him. "Less talking, more eating, Haru-chan!" she exclaimed.

He didn't even get a chance to ask her in the car, his mother talking the whole way to school, telling him not to worry, reminding him that school would only last a few hours and that he shouldn't feel nervous. Though, from the looks of it, she was more nervous than Haru could ever be. Besides, at the moment he was too concerned with the mysterious red string to even spare a thought about his first day of kindergarten, wondering where it led to, watching in silence as his mother drove and followed it in what Haru could only assume was the direction to school.

By the time they reached the parking lot, the tugging was stronger than ever. He must have been close to whatever he was tied to, Haru thought as his mother held his hand and led him inside the building, excitement growing with each step. But when he entered the classroom after his mother wished him good luck and gave him a tearful goodbye, Haru realized that it wasn't a what, but rather, a who.

The boy was standing across the room, his back facing Haru as he placed his things into his cubby, the unmistakable red string tied around his own pinky, tugging on him relentlessly until Haru finally gave in and made his way over to the boy.

"So it was you," Haru said, not bothering to spare him a proper hello.

Hand in his backpack mid-search, the boy stopped what he was doing and turned his head slowly. "Excuse me?"

The boy had green eyes—kind eyes—Haru remarked, mesmerized, almost forgetting what exactly it was he came there for. However, it only took another tug from the string to refresh his memory. Haru crossed his arms, the frown returning to his face. "Why did you do that?"

The boy tilted his head and smiled a puzzled smile, smiled a beautiful smile. "Do what?"

"Tie us together with this string."

"What string?"

"This string," Haru said impatiently as he shook his head and raised his right hand, tugging on the string with his left, giving the boy a taste of his own medicine. But for some reason, no matter how hard Haru pulled he didn't seem to notice, only adding to his frustration. He crossed his arms again and huffed. "Just take it off, okay?"

"But I don't see anything."

"What do you mean you don't see anything?" Haru exclaimed, taking the boy's hand from his backpack and pointing to his pinky and then his own. "It's right here! Look! Don't you see it? It's right in front of your face! Look!"

However, the boy didn't say anything, too petrified to speak. Haru smacked his forehead. At the rate this was going, he knew nothing would be solved. And his persistence certainly wasn't helping. Haru glanced at the boy through his fingers. It was obvious; he was scaring the poor guy.

He sighed. "Never mind," he said quietly, adding a haphazard "Sorry" as he let go of the boy's hand. He turned around, about to walk to his own cubby when he remembered what his mother told him in the car about the importance making new friends, not that he believed this boy would want to be his friend now. He'd been in kindergarten for less than ten minutes, and already he was off to a terrible start. But still, he thought, he might as well try, his courage from just moments before gone. He swallowed. "I'm," he said slowly, feeling his embarrassment rise to his cheeks, "I'm Haruka, by the way. Haruka Nanase."

Beat.

"Haruka?" the boy asked, "But you're a boy!"

There was a laugh, making Haru cringe. Great, he thought. Now he was going to be known as the weird kid with a girl's name, the kid who harassed this boy over a string he couldn't even see. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go to the pool. He should have just said his name was 'Haru.' He should have just—

"So this means you have a girly name, too?"

Haru turned around. "Too?"

"Yeah! My name is Makoto! Makoto Tachibana." He stood up, his smile widening as he extended his hand towards Haru, the same one that had the red string around his pinky. For a moment, Haru was tempted to try again, try to make Makoto see the string. But he remembered the frightened expression Makoto gave him during his first attempt and thought better of it. Besides, he was smiling now, and Haru decided he liked it better when Makoto was smiling.

Haru took Makoto's hand and shook, watching carefully as the red string shortened when their hands came together and lengthened when they let go. He still didn't understand what was going on, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. He had a friend now, and his name was Makoto, a boy with kind eyes and an even kinder smile. His name was Makoto Tachibana, and for reasons Haru couldn't explain, they were connected. And it was nice.

But it wasn't too long until Haru began to realize that he and Makoto weren't the only ones connected by a mysterious red string. After that first encounter with Makoto, Haru saw red strings everywhere—in school, on the streets, at home—and yet, no one else seemed to notice. No one else seemed to care. And unwilling to be branded as someone with a fixation for what other's would deem "imaginary red strings," he kept his mouth shut. But eventually Haru got used to it, became accustomed to a world covered in a mass of red tangles, never giving it much thought until he felt the tug of his own string.

However, it wasn't until the fourth grade that he finally understood the red string and its implications.

They were in the middle of eating lunch when Haru overheard one of the girls mention 'red string of fate' as they gossiped about the boys in their class, immediately piquing his interest.

"We can't see it, but everyone has one. It's supposed to connect two people," he heard her say, "It supposed to be for lovers." She giggled. "And even though the string may stretch and tangle, it can never, ever break. The two people at each end of the string," she paused and lowered her voice, eyes darting around the classroom for emphasis, as if it was supposed to be some big secret, "they're meant to be together. It's destiny."

Haru's eyes widened as he glanced at his pinky. Destiny?

"Really? Then do you think one of our strings is connected to Makoto-kun?" one girl asked, taking Haru's attention away from his finger, blushing as she held up her hand in front of her face as if she'd magically see the red string if she stared at it long enough. Haru rolled his eyes; she wasn't even looking at the correct hand.

"I don't think so," her friend said, much to the girl's disappointment, "If Makoto-kun is connected to anyone it has to be Haruka-kun. Don't you think? Who else could it be? They're always together!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Smirking as he left the conversation, Haru turned to Makoto, too busy enjoying the contents of his bento to notice their classmates were talking about them. But that was okay, Haru finally got the answer he'd been waiting for. Destiny. He tugged on the string.

Makoto looked up. "Did you say something, Haru-chan?"

Haru quickly shook his head and looked down, stuffing his mouth with mackerel—just so Makoto wouldn't see the blush, wouldn't see the satisfied smile. "Nope," he said, mouth full, "Nothing at all."

After Haru realized he had the ability to see destiny, he wasn't sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse. How many times he'd seen friends choose the wrong person; how many times he'd watched their hearts break, seen them cry; how many times he'd remained silent when he could have literally pointed people, friends and strangers alike, in the direction of happiness—but he didn't; because it wasn't his place to intrude. And it was terrible.

But then again, he supposed it was also nice, knowing his soul mate was right there beside him, knowing he didn't have to waste time searching. And in this way, he was one of the lucky ones. He and Makoto, they were the lucky ones.

Because as long as Haru could see fate—could see their fate—they had security. They had comfort.

But Makoto didn't know that.

"So, someone gave me two free tickets to the premiere of that new scary movie this Friday," Makoto said to Haru one day as they walked home from school, breaking the usual, yet pleasant, silence. "And I was thinking that, I don't know, maybe we—should—go?"

Haru shot him a look. The way he said it was off, calculated and rehearsed. And oddly enough, Makoto seemed nervous, not that Haru could think of a reason why he would be. "But you hate scary movies," he said.

"I know! But," Makoto said, shrugging, "it sounds like it could be a lot of fun."

"Will there be a pool?"

"Haru, it's the movie theater."

"Then, I'll pass," he said, "Besides, the last time we all watched a scary movie, you didn't sleep for days. I know; you called me at three in the morning every night that week."

"That was a long time ago!"

"Three months isn't a long time."

There was a pause; Makoto chuckled. "Okay, you're right. But still," he said, trying one more time, his tone still hopeful, "it would be a shame for these tickets to go to waste. Are you sure you don't want to go—with me?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, it's been a while since we've hung out, just the two of us."

Haru sighed, shaking his head, not quite getting it. "Even if I wanted to, I can't. Rin wanted me to meet with him at Samezuka."

"Oh," Makoto said slowly, glancing at Haru, whose attention was focused on something in the distance, "so, you're going to be with Rin this Friday?"

"Yeah, and the next few weekends after that," Haru continued as they made the last turn before his house. He shrugged. "He said he wanted me to help with his training or something."

"Oh."

Haru stopped; he recognized that tone. "Makoto," he said gently, "if you're really worried about the tickets going to waste, why don't you just give the tickets to Rei and Nagisa?" He rolled his eyes. "As if they needed an excuse to spend another Friday night together."

But Makoto didn't laugh. "Yeah, I guess—I guess you're right, Haru."

That following Monday, Haru noticed something wasn't quite right about Makoto. He was quiet, quieter than he was used to, barely mumbling his usual 'good morning' when Haru answered his door. But not only that, he seemed nervous, constantly looking over his shoulder as his eyes darted from left to right, as if expecting someone to pop out an any moment. But it was barely past 7:30 in the morning, Haru noted; the probability of being attacked was close to zero.

And when Haru decided to poke him on the shoulder he barely had enough time to utter his name before Makoto jumped, yelping, "Haru!" and catching himself in pseudo-composure. "Um, I mean, Haru—what—what is it?"

However, Haru didn't answer his question, squinting his eyes and making Makoto uncomfortable. He took a step forward. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"J-jumpy?" Makoto repeated with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head. "I—I don't know what you're talking about, Haru. I'm not jumpy. Not at all." More forced laughter. "Now come on," he said, walking forward just so he wouldn't have to look at Haru's piercing gaze, "we're going to be late for—!"

"You watched that scary movie, didn't you?"

He tensed, shoulders raising as if caught right in the act. He turned around. "No, I didn't!" Makoto exclaimed, shaking his head so vehemently that he would have given himself whiplash had he not stopped to ask with mock-innocence, "What ever gave you that idea?"

"Makoto."

"Okay, okay, so I did."

Haru sighed; Makoto was always such a terrible liar. "Who put you up to this?" he asked, piqued. Although, Haru already had an idea who, and they should have known better; Makoto should have known better. "Was it Nagisa? Rei?"

"Neither! I didn't go with them!"

"So you went—by yourself?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I didn't!" Makoto shook his head. "I went with Tai!"

"Tai?" Haru stopped and made a face, the name somewhat bitter on his tongue. "Who's Tai?"

Makoto laughed. "Oh come on, Haru. You know. Tai! Tai Kasawari? He's gone to school with us since middle school! I mean, sure, this is the first time he's been in our class, but you've got to remember him. Tall, dark brown hair, always the artsy type? Tai!"

"I don't."

"Ah, well, that can't be helped, I suppose," he said absently, placing both hands behind his head as he looked to the sky. "But, it's a shame that I haven't really talked to him until this year. He's actually really nice; I think you'd like him, Haru." Makoto smiled. Haru clenched his jaw—he highly doubted that. "Anyway, he was the one who gave me the tickets in the first place, but when I asked Nagisa and Rei if they wanted them, they told me they already had other plans. And it's not like I was going to go by myself, so when I went to Tai to tell him that I didn't need the tickets anymore, he offered to go with me. It seemed out of the blue, but I thought, you know, why not?"

"Because you hate scary movies."

"Yeah, but like I said, I thought it would be fun."

"And was it?"

Opening and closing his mouth, Makoto tilted his head slowly and shook his head. "Well, no," he said, chuckling, "not really. It was actually a really bad idea." Haru smirked, relieved, ready to tell him I told you so and move on to another subject—one that didn't involve a certain artsy classmate. But Makoto wasn't finished. "But Tai said he'd make it up to me," he continued, smiling to himself, "I get to pick the movie this time."

Haru blinked. "So you're hanging out with him again?"

"Yeah, this Friday."

But before Haru could say anything, Makoto looked at his watch and gasped. They were definitely going to be late, he told Haru as he quickened his pace, only stopping when he noticed Haru wasn't behind him. Calling his name, Makoto turned around and finally found Haru after he turned the corner, hands in his pockets, his eyes turned to the ground as he slowly caught up to him. He called his name again, but Haru kept the same pace, lost in his thoughts, and Makoto couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

But he was never one to ask directly, never one to pry. If Haru wanted him to know, he'd tell him. And he was okay with that.

"Why didn't you just as Gou to go with you?" Haru finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"Why didn't you ask Gou to watch the movie with you?"

Makoto blinked. "But that would've been," he said, unintentionally making a face and shuddering, "like a date."

"And going to the movies with Tai wasn't?"

"Don't be silly, Haru!" Makoto laughed. "We were just hanging out! That's all it was, I swear. Me and Tai? Me and Tai? No way. No. Way."

Haru nodded, finally dropping the subject as they continued their walk to school in silence. And yet, no matter what he did, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He shouldn't have felt this way. He shouldn't have felt jealous. Because, he thought, as he looked at his pinky, he had security. He had destiny. Haru tugged on the string.

Makoto turned. "Did you say something, Haru?"

He shook his head and gave him a weak smile—because he should have felt better. He wanted to feel better.

But he didn't.

"Hey, Haru-chan, who's Mako-chan talking to?"

Haru looked in the direction where Nagisa was pointing to and frowned. And yet, he wasn't surprised. "That's Tai," he said, crossing his arms as he turned away. He thought listening to Makoto talk about him was bad, but actually seeing them together was even worse. "Tai Kasawari."

"Tai Kasawari?" Nagisa tilted his head, squinting at Tai before turning back to Haru. "That's the first time I've heard that name. Is he your friend?"

Haru's scowl deepened. "Makoto's friend, not mine."

"Oh, I see," Nagisa said, exchanging glances with Rei, who understood, "Well, they better stop talking soon. I'm starving!"

"Maybe we should call him," Rei said.

Haru agreed. He was tired of waiting. He tugged on the string, expecting Makoto to turn his head just like he always did. But to Haru's surprise, he didn't, laughing at something Tai said as they continued their conversation. And Haru saw green. He didn't know what was going on; tugging usually worked, and this was the first time anything like this had happened. He pulled on the string again, harder this time, with desperation this time. Makoto . . .

Stopping mid-laugh, Makoto finally turned, a sigh of relief escaping Haru's lips when he saw his face brighten as he waved to them and made his way over. And though he knew it was wrong, Haru couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit of satisfaction watching Tai's expression fall—because he was getting in the way; because he was messing with something he couldn't control, something Haru could only see: fate.

"Sorry I made you guys wait so long!" Makoto said as they sat in their usual spots on the roof—Rei-Nagisa; Haru-Makoto. "I had to ask Tai something after class, but then he brought up something about this new piece he's been working on and I—" He stopped. He was rambling. "And I guess we lost track of time. Sorry again!"

"You should be sorry, Mako-chan!" Nagisa joked as he poked Rei in the ribs, "Rei-chan here was about to faint from hunger!"

Rei shot Nagisa a look. "I don't faint, Nagisa-kun," he said, adjusting his glasses, "It's not beautiful."

"Yeah? Then how do you explain last weekend when we—"

However, Rei covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence. "Kidding! He's kidding," he said frantically, glancing at Nagisa with a firm expression, one that said: don't you dare. It was only after a few more silent exchanges that Rei finally let go of Nagisa and let out an awkward laugh. "Right, Nagisa-kun?"

But he neither agreed nor disagreed, rolling his eyes before turning to Makoto and Haru. "Anyway," he said, "I'm so excited for Friday! We can actually do something as a team for once! It's been a while since we've all been free for a weekend!"

"Wait, really?" Makoto asked as he turned to Haru, "I thought you were still training with Rin?"

"No, that ended last week."

"Oh," he said, his tone tinged disappointment though he tried—and failed—to hide it, "already?"

"Why? Are you busy Makoto-senpai?" Rei asked.

Makoto laughed and shook his head. "No! Well, I mean, I was supposed to meet with Tai, but," he shrugged, "I'm sure he'll understand."

"He better!" Nagisa exclaimed. "Right, Haru-chan? Haru-chan?"

But Haru wasn't listening anymore, his eyes staring intently at the mass of red at their feet, a mixture of two strings—his and Makoto's; Rei and Nagisa's. And something wasn't right. He rubbed his eyes; maybe he was just imagining things, he told himself. He looked at his pinky.

When had his string become so dull?

The team watched as Gou hung up her cellphone for the third time, shaking her head when they asked her if he answered this time. Nagisa and Rei glanced at Haru who didn't seem to notice, staring intently at his right hand. They didn't know what that meant—both looking at their own hands to try and understand—but he'd been doing that a lot lately.

"It's not like Makoto-senpai to be this late," Rei finally said, stating the obvious, doing it to just fill the silence. "I hope he's okay."

"Have you seen him, Haru-chan?" Nagisa asked.

He shook his head. "Not since last period."

"Oh. I guess we'll just have to wait then."

Together they sat on the concrete without another word, their backs against the fence, waiting for any sign of Makoto. But as the minutes passed—as one turned to three; and three turned to five; and five turned to ten—they had to wonder if Makoto would even show up at all. And Haru couldn't take it anymore, couldn't wait for a tug anymore—something he hadn't felt in a more than a month now, the dull red string the only proof left of their connection. Haru stood up. "I think I know where I can find him."

He heard Rei and Nagisa call after him, asking what he was talking about, their voices fading with each quickened step. But he didn't answer, and they didn't follow. And that was fine with him.

Quickly, Haru ran back towards the school, the dull string around his pinky acting as his guide. He didn't know where he was headed, but he didn't care. All he knew was that Makoto was at the other end of this string. He just hoped it was only Makoto.

However, after climbing—sprinting—up three flights of stairs, it didn't take Haru too long to figure out where he was this whole time: the roof. He had to stop at the top of the stairs to catch his breath, letting out a sigh of relief amongst the heavy pants when he spotted Makoto's silhouette through the window. But just as he placed his hand on the door, Haru realized Makoto wasn't alone. Someone else was there, and though he could only see shadows, he didn't have to guess twice who it was.

"—already really late for swim practice as it is," he heard Makoto say as he carefully cracked open the door so he could hear properly. "What's going on, Tai? You haven't said a word since you brought me here. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine! It's just," Tai, the second shadow, said, "I, uh, wanted to ask you something. It's—It's really important."

There was a pause.

"Okay," Makoto said gently—so gently that Haru could almost hear the smile in his voice. He clenched his jaw. "Then ask."

"Okay, well, um, I really like you, Makoto."

A chuckle. "I like you, too, Tai."

A headshake. "That's—that's not what I meant."

"It's not?"

"No, I mean really, really like you. And I know that we were planning to hang out this weekend like we've been doing, but—I don't want to—just hang out anymore." Tai's silhouette took a cautious step forward. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Makoto?"

Beat.

"Are you asking me," Makoto asked slowly, his silhouette unmoving, frozen, "on a date?"

"Y-Yes." Tai shook his head and took a deep breath, repeating himself with more confidence, "Yes, I am."

"…I didn't know you felt this way, Tai."

"I have. For a while now." He took another step forward. But Makoto still didn't move, and Haru wished he could have seen his expression—just so he could know what he was thinking—because at this point, he had no clue. And he was terrified. "But, um, Makoto," Tai said gently, his voice tinted with laughter, as if to lighten the mood, "I think this is the part where you're supposed to tell me 'yes' or 'no.'"

Makoto jumped, reanimated. "Oh, right!" he exclaimed, laughing awkwardly. "That's how this is supposed to work. Okay, so a date—with you. Well—"

But just as Makoto was about to give Tai his answer, Haru's hand slipped, the door closing with a soft, but loud enough for Makoto and Tai to notice, click. And had he reacted sooner, he might have been able to leave without being seen. But he didn't. He couldn't move, his body just as frozen as Makoto's silhouette had been only moments earlier, brought to life only when he realized Makoto had reopened the door.

"Haru?" he asked, "What are you—Have you been here this whole time?"

"Uh, no—well, I mean, yes, but—I'm sorry," Haru said, his thoughts turning to mush, eyes wide as he looked at Makoto and then at Tai, who was still standing in the same spot where he just confessed. He shook his head; he didn't want to think about that right now. "I didn't mean to—we were wondering—and swim practice—but I found you, which is great and—and I'll just go now. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Wait, Haru!"

But Haru ignored Makoto's cries, ignored how fast his heart was beating, ignored just how heavy it felt in his chest. He shook his head. He wanted to swim. He wanted to feel the cool water against his skin and smell chlorine as it reached his lungs with every stroke—because the pool always meant peace, because the water always silenced his unwanted thoughts. And at that moment, Haru would have given anything to quiet the pain and pounding in his head, given anything to forget—even if it was just for an hour.

However, he barely made it down to the second floor when he felt Makoto's hand on his shoulder, forcing him to face him.

"Haru, wait!" Makoto exclaimed, "It's not what you think! You have to believe me. I didn't know he felt—"

"Two?"

"What?" But Haru wasn't looking at him, his eyes on his hand—wide, surprised, horrified. And it frightened him. "Haru," Makoto said, placing both hands on his shoulders so he could look him in the eye, but no matter what he did Haru's eyes never left his hand. He began to shake him. "Haru, look at me. Haru! What are you talking about? Two what?"

"Two strings," he mumbled, staring at the two loops around his pinky—one dull, one vibrant; one that led to him, one that led to the roof. Makoto had two this whole time, and he never even noticed. "There are two strings."

"What?"

Haru blinked. "I mean, Tai, he's still," he said, his eyes finally meeting Makoto's, "he's still waiting for your answer."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"But," Makoto said, sighing as he let go of Haru's shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, "I don't really have one for him."

"Well, do you want to go?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go," Haru repeated, "on a date with Tai?"

Makoto looked away, but he was too slow, unable to conceal the slightest pink on his cheeks. "Well, I haven't exactly given it much thought before," he said, "But, I guess—"

"Then go."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Makoto shook his head. "I—I don't know."

"So go."

Beat.

Makoto sighed and placed his hands into his pockets. "Okay, you're right. I'll go tell him," he said quietly as he began to climb back up the stairs, "Just tell Nagisa and Rei I'll be down in a few minutes." However, he paused at the top of the stairs, turning his head slightly to face Haru one last time, giving him a small smile. "Thanks, Haru. I guess—I guess I'll see you at swim practice then."

"Yeah."

It wasn't until Makoto's footsteps ceased that Haru finally moved from his spot, leaning against the wall for a few moments before sliding to the ground and placing his head over his knees. He couldn't believe it, couldn't believe how he never noticed. And yet, he could—because next to Tai's string, Haru's was almost invisible. Somehow, amidst it all—amidst the spent weekends and the movies, the constant text messages and the absent smiles—the colors had reversed.

And as he looked at the space where Makoto was standing just a few moments earlier, tugging on their string, waiting for Makoto to come back, knowing he wouldn't, Haru learned a thing about fate.

It was cruel.

And that's the end of Chapter 1!

I hope you liked it!

And as always, read and review!

GhostofYou