Warnings: Unbeta'd
When Makoto was six, he met Haruka for the first time.
His family moved from the hustle-bustle of the city to the sleepy coastal town of Iwatobi. Due to his father's job was the explanation he was given, when he told his mother that he didn't want to leave his friends from school. And that he could go to the beach every day, his mother added. Makoto didn't care for the beach that much, except from the promise of ice cream that was there every time he visited the beach. Maybe if he was more stubborn, his parents wouldn't have moved and Dad would have found a job nearer to home. But, Makoto wanted to be a good kid and not make a fuss, so Tachibanas settled in an old, but 'family-sized', house near the shrine and Makoto went to Iwatobi Elementary School.
Makoto soon grew to like the Iwatobi lifestyle. School wasn't bad, he made a few friends but wasn't particularly close to anyone. His room was bigger than it was in the city, there was enough room for all his toys. He didn't have ice cream every day, but he could go biking every week with his father and that more than made up for it, especially since he didn't see his father much when he still had his job in the city.
It was before bed, but after his mother had told him his bedtime story, when Makoto caught sight of a figure from the corner of his eye. It was probably nothing, he thought wishfully, as he flicked his face around to get a better glance at what he thought he saw. It shimmered, much like the sea instead of glitter or sequins, probably a trick of the light, but he wasn't too sure if the light was supposed to do that.
He blinked good few times, then looked at it again, frozen in place where he last saw it and showing no signs of moving. It will go away in the morning, he hoped, as these things usually did with sunrise, that's what they say, anyway. He didn't want to be a bad boy and wake up mum and dad over what was probably nothing, so he sunk under his covers and prayed for a good night's sleep.
It did go in the morning, or at least Makoto saw no traces left behind, but maybe that's because he was looking for the wrong clues. He still began to doubt it was there in the first place, it had no good reason to be. So, it was probably just a dream, but not really a nightmare. He probably didn't need to tell his mother, he probably won't need to wet the bed the next night.
But after another night pasted by, he did wet the bed and embarrassedly took the stained sheets to the washing machine next morning. It returned, standing its corner of Makoto's room, near the same place as last night. It shimmered in the moonlight, but casted no shadow on the ground as the light shone right through it and lit up the wooden boards it stood on. Makoto repeated the events of yesterday night and spent another night quivering under his covers with the vague hope of it going away.
It didn't go away the next day or the next week, nor it do anything but stand in its corner and disappear at the first light of dawn the next morning (not that Makoto checked exactly when it disappeared, but he assumed it would). The shimmer was always there on the edge of his vision before he went to sleep, it was now almost soothing. Makoto considered telling his mother about it, surely it's been there long enough for it to be real and not something that his imagination created? But he had only seen it from a distance, could he really be sure that it was no more than a trick of the light?
With apprehension, Makoto slowly drew the duvet off him and put a foot on the wooden floorboards. He considered going back and returning to the safety and warmth of his bed, but with the slight chill of the sea breeze and the trembling of his own nerves, Makoto slowly paced towards its corner. The closer he got, the more of what was hidden by distance he saw. It was the colour of pool water, had a face, outlines of what seemed to be normal clothing. Not exactly what Makoto expected. It was more of a 'he', a boy older and taller than him, quite ordinary-looking besides the shimmering, translucent, bluish surface. There was no way a boy like the one in front of him could possibly be. Real people weren't blue, real people weren't see-through, real people didn't magical appear in your room and stare hard enough to bore holes into your forehead. Those eyes never left Makoto, or so it would seem; even though he was less than half a metre away - almost there - from his eyes the intensity of his stare made Makoto want to run to the other corner of the room and stay there until his mother found him next morning.
As Makoto was considering his escape, he moved. He outstretched his hand towards Makoto, his eyes still said nothing of his intentions, so Makoto could only blindly trust the strange boy. With a furrow of his upturned eyebrows, Makoto tentatively took a step to him; he didn't want to touch the boy just yet, but there couldn't be any harm in getting a little closer to him. Makoto was now a few inches away from him, but still neither of them had said a work. The boy's arm was back by his side, his stare was slightly less intense, closer to inquisitive and Makoto's eyes were probably the same. It was more awkward than an social event he had ever encountered in his six-year-old life, so the urge to say something was pretty fierce and pressurising.
"What's your name?" Makoto weakly whispered. He doubted anyone could actually hear his voice, but apparently someone did as the other boy blinked at him and continued to stare with tilted eyebrows and his mouth slightly agape with surprise.
The boy blinked again and look around, as if he was expecting someone behind him to answer. When he was convinced that Makoto was talking to him, he relaxed his shoulders and faced Makoto once again. "Haru. What's yours?" his voice was clear and cut through the air like a diamond.
Makoto wasn't too sure whether he was expecting an answer, much less another question, from 'Haru'. That couldn't have been his full name, he must have had a family name since he must have had a family or somewhere to go to at least. Maybe he was over-thinking it, Haru probably just didn't want to tell him, or he would rather Makoto just called him 'Haru'.
"It's Makoto, Haru-chan," Makoto replied, he voice a lot less shakier and quieter than before. He wasn't too sure why he added the '-chan' to Haru's name, it kind of completed it in a way. Makoto probably should have used '-kun' instead, but Haru-chan flowed nicer and it made the other seem a little less intimidating. But, just to be sure it didn't annoy Haru, he asked more timidly, "Is it okay if I call you that, Haru-chan?"
"I don't mind," Haru responded with a half-shrug, and his casual attitude reminded Makoto of boys around Haru's age. It made him seem really normal, and maybe that's what Haru was, despite his appearance. He wasn't a scary creature of the dark, just boy a little older than him, like the ones you see in the playround at school, or parties hosted by your mother's friends. But at the same time, Haru wasn't a normal boy, far from one. He certainly didn't look normal, or act normal. He wouldn't be in Makoto's room every night if his was normal, so he couldn't be completely normal.
"Haru-chan, what are you? Why are you blue like pool water?" Makoto asked, the questions sounded a bit rude as Makoto played them back in his head, but hopefully Haru would not be offended or forgive him if he was. Haru really took his time answering, his eyes travelled all around the room. But Makoto's ceiling didn't seem to tell him anything, so he held out his hand and looked at his skin. Makoto thought that maybe even Haru wasn't sure why himself, and that wasn't so weird that he didn't. After all, if Haru asked Makoto why he wasn't blue, Makoto probably couldn't give him a straight answer either. "You don't have to answer if you don't know." Makoto added after the afterthought.
"Then, I don't know," Haru said, he sounded relieved that Makoto wasn't really looking for an answer. "I wasn't always blue, if you were wondering that." And Makoto was wondering exactly that. Haru might have been a mind reader and Makoto was willing to believe that, if it wasn't for the fact Haru had to ask for his name earlier on. So, perhaps Haru was really smart, or maybe Makoto was too obvious.
"So, what were you like before you were blue?"
"A bit like you, in a way. My hair was black, my eyes were still blue, but a darker blue. My skin was kind of cream and my clothes were... Not all the same colour." Haru replied with a shrug, he seemed to have forgotten what colour his clothes were. But, it kind of made sense to forget, if Makoto can't remember which pyjamas he was wearing, and his mother had dressed him this afternoon, how would Haru, who had probably worn the same clothes for ages to know?
"Haru-chan, is it okay if I touch you?" Makoto innocently asked, edging slightly over to his new friend. His palm opened up and his fingers outstretched towards Haru.
Haru almost frowned as he thought it through. "I guess it's alright if it's Makoto," he replied, letting the curious child roam his little fingers over Haru's pale blue skin. They felt warm, almost sweaty, against the coolness Haru was accustomed to, but that's what Haru liked about the gentle warm of his friend's hand. Makoto let out a surprised grasp as half of his hand sunk past the surface of Haru's arm, as he was exploring the smooth, cool plains of strange-coloured skin. He quickly yanked his hand back and watched as the blue surface refilled itself once more, the hole that his hand made no longer existed. The void had been filled to its original form.
But, as glad Makoto was with his friend's amazing healing abilities, he still asked, "Is Haru-chan okay? Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to, I promise! I'm sorry, Haru-chan!" Makoto continued to apologise, until he felt a cool touch on his shoulder.
"I'm fine. You didn't hurt me, that doesn't hurt. Makoto doesn't need to apologise," Haru smiled down towards the smaller boy. The hues of green that made up Makoto's eyes glistened brightly in the moonlight, as he looked up towards the older boy with a sense of relieve and the warmth of acceptance the two of them shared between them.
Makoto decided he liked this new friend, and Haru felt a mutual feeling, as they stood together, basking in the glow of the moon.
Makoto must have returned to bed at some point, because that's where he was when he woke up the next morning, tucked up in bed as if none of last night had ever happened. However, Makoto knew better, it must have happened, as it felt to real to be false. He was so sure of it, even though Haru was nowhere to be seen, like mornings before he knew Haru and before they were friends. This was like when Haru wasn't a 'he', but an 'it', and that 'it' always disappeared in the morning, so it would make sense for Haru to disappear the same as every other morning, even though Makoto didn't want him to.
"Haru-chan? Haru-chan, are you there?" Makoto called out, although he knew Haru couldn't possibly be around. Haru only came out at night, after all. There was little either of them could do about it.
A bare silence - Makoto sighed and got out of bed. He walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out an ironed t-shirt. He looked around the now very lonely space of his room, longing for the strange blueness of chlorinated water and his new friend.
"Makoto," he heard a soft mutter. Makoto's head swivelled around to find the source of the sound. "I'm here, Makoto," Haru was calling for him, but Makoto had no idea where he was. Small footsteps made their way around the room, as the wooden floorboard creaked too noisy for the early morning. Makoto's eyes surveyed the room an unsatisfying many times, before he caught sight of the shimmering blue surface behind the cabinet.
And Makoto smiled, he had found his friend, although he didn't know why Haru needed to hide behind the cabinet just yet.
I'm writing MakoHaru even though I don't ship it. What is wrong with me. The characters worked for the type of story I wanted to write, so yeah. I doubt all of the chapters would be the length of this one. I hope they would, this is a decent chapter length, right?