The sky was draped in festoons of light, shimmers and bombasts of blue, crimson, gold and purple raining downwards, as though the night stars were sending off showers of color. In a distant, suitably warm apartment, Makoto and Haru were sitting together, watching the display from their window.
"It's almost New Year's, Haru," Makoto murmured, moving his head a little to the side. A brilliant blue shot of fire lit the sky and faded. Haru nodded.
It had seemed foolhardy to venture out on New Year's Eve, what with the crowd and bustle and traffic and noise and people hurrying this way and that to fill their celebrations to the appropriate brim. Additionally, the pair of them had had considerable work to do before their deadline and the job of a mangaka was never finished.
Having storyboarded two chapters, discussed two more and inked fifteen pages between them, however, they decided to take the rest of the evening off to enjoy the festivities and recover from the exhaustion.
"I didn't think we'd get it done in time," Makoto said, smiling with nervous relief over at Haru.
"I did," Haru said. His face hadn't moved but a pink rocket reflected in his eyes, brimming them with rose satin starbursts.
"You did?"
"I did," Haru said. "I knew we could do it…together."
Makoto smiled. It was a perk he thought working with someone so confident, if perhaps a tad misguided. He hadn't been sure in the slightest they would meet their goals, but in his frantic panic, skritching and billowing down panel after panel, he had chanced to glance up. Haru had been quietly sketching away, as though sitting by the sea, serene as could be. And there was something so reassuring about that, Makoto had relaxed, slowed down a little and resituated his legs since they'd fallen asleep.
He hadn't quite understood why Haru could go about things the way he did. Haru was, after all, by no means oblivious or exactly apathetic. It was steadfastness, Makoto thought, that marked Haru's silent determination, as though even the gravest hesitations were of foreign gravity to Haru's interest. Makoto had no problem admitting such stress would probably wreck him, that he'd sink after a while, that, unlike Haru, he would wibble and need some space before he could plow through the problem ahead of him.
Unlike Haru…
Makoto stretched his leg and popped his knee. Haru let his eyes flicker that way for a second before rejoining the fireworks. Makoto leaned back against the center table, the edge of it just keeping him balanced. Interims of quiet entered, punctuated with muted blasts.
Makoto listened to himself breathe and then to Haru breathing, to the sounds in the room and the sounds outside. He had taken this job as practice, as experience, since there was no end to the need for assistants in the manga world. He hadn't known what to expect or what he'd be doing or how he'd be dealing with it. But this…this was not something prescheduled.
Haru had changed him somehow. Or, perhaps clearer, produced puzzling results.
With Haru nearby, Makoto no longer felt the need to charge his phone when it was at two bars when he left home. Potential accidents requiring it didn't float into his mind as easily.
When they'd been out, browsing the same candy store he and Haru happened to have been frequenting on their own, the chocolate he'd bought them tasted fuller, richer, so deep one could wade waist deep in it. With Haru, it was okay to run out of orange juice, to broach impolite subjects honestly, to go to a midnight showing of a slightly scary movie, to drift effortlessly into a nap without needing to worry when one would wake up.
It was irrepressible, inexpressible calm that welled up inside Makoto whenever he was near Haru, peace and comfort, like being settled in, undisturbed, at home.
A particularly large boom drew Makoto's attention upwards and from the window to the wall where a shabby looking clock hung.
"Haru! There's only a minute until midnight!"
"Hm…"
Makoto smiled. "You'd better hurry and think of a wish so you'll have it in mind when the countdown starts."
"…All right. Got one."
"Already?"
"Yeah."
"That was fast."
"I already knew what I wanted…"
"That's good. Me too," Makoto said, fixing his eyes on the second hand which inched nearer and nearer the twelve. They watched it move and the fireworks seemed to quiet and everything grew still. Makoto held his breath.
Three…two…one…
An explosion of color blazed in the black space above the city buildings and a rush of roar rose from the streets, the tinkling whirrs of noisemakers accenting the din. Makoto turned, his face bright.
"Happy New Year, Haru."
"Mm…"
They basked in the noise for a little bit, the unending wave waxing now and again. Haru shifted closer to Makoto and asked quietly, "What did you wish for, Makoto?"
Makoto gave a short laugh in surprise. "Haru! You know you're not supposed to tell what you wished for or else it won't come true!"
There was a pause and a steady shift in Haru's eyes. He leaned in.
"Makoto…"
As Makoto turned, their faces met, the meet so natural it was soft and firm. Makoto could feel Haru shift his body some, his neck pushing forward, his whole upper body tilting towards him, and his lips thin, insistent against his own. In a moment, Makoto pushed back, pushing them right up again into balance, a spurt of warm breath coming from his nose and they both broke their lips open, one for air, two to rejoin.
It was a sweet taste of warmth rather than heat that suffused Haru's tongue. Quickly a current of warmth passed back and forth between them, each pass on the tip of a tongue thrust. The shock of colors continued to fill the dark air, but fireworks of a different kind were rolling through their mouths, every bit as incandescent, luminous, and blistering.
In what must have been a blind minute, they moved back, a firm suck of air breaking in and they looked at each other, Makoto blushing and Haru with a sweep of pink on his cheeks. Then without notice, the crowd brought them out of their moment, the lift of laughing and celebrating below, and they both breathed out.
Haru nestled closer to Makoto and Makoto, coursing with unabated warmth, put his arm around Haru's shoulders. Haru rested his head on Makoto's arm, his eyes again a sheen of fireworks.
Makoto murmured, "What did you wish for, Haru?"
Haru spoke without moving. "That that would happen."
Makoto smiled, a smile which bent into a laugh through his nose. Haru leaned up.
"What did you wish for, Makoto?"
He answered quietly. "That whatever you wished for would come true."