WARNING: If you suffer from depression or are easily upset, I advise against reading this. Although there is no explicit graphic content, there are suicidal comments which may be triggering for some people.
He had tried everything: reading, drawing, and even swimming, but nothing helped. He wanted to contact his friends, but it felt... selfish, somehow. Now he lay, limbs outstretched, on his bed, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. To put it shortly, Haru was... depressed.
A thundercloud of thoughts stormed around his mind, making it hard to think. He curled into a ball and faced the wall. Calling anyone would make them worry, and Haru didn't want that-when faced with a troublesome situation, he would always try to face it alone, and often it resulted in success; this time, not even swimming helped. He swam deeper into the pool of his psyche, but was only greeted with a deeper darkness. This was incredibly frustrating, especially seeing as an important assignment was due in a few days and he had done absolutely none of it. "Why does it have to be so difficult," he mused, "why can't I just be free?"
As he agonised over himself, a headache slowly developed near the front of his skull; it progressed quickly into a throbbing migraine, which felt like someone was beating the inside of his brain with a bludgeon. Stop thinking, he told himself. It'll get better if I just rest...
Haru peeled off his clothes and dejectedly changed into fresh pyjamas. Sloppily brushing his teeth, he tried grinning into the mirror to cheer himself up.
It only made him feel stupid.
Frowning, he splashed water on his face and dried it vigorously with a towel. Maybe being a bit rougher with himself would cause a change in this numbing feeling. Sighing, Haru plopped into his unmade bed and flicked the lights off.
The night was peaceful, with the only noise outside being the occasional animal call or a gust of wind; even the regular rowdy bunch of teenagers was nowhere to be heard. So why was it that Haru couldn't sleep? Usually the sound of the clock wouldn't be enough to disturb him, so why did every tick echo in his eardrums? Deciding that the clock was the issue, he removed the batteries and closed his eyes again.
...
Silence. Dead silence.
With all the ambiance gone, Haru's thoughts instantly resurged into his consciousness, reminding him why he'd gone to bed at eight o'clock.
"Why are you wasting time?" a voice screeched.
"Hurry up and do your work, time's running out!" another yelled.
"Your friends won't care; they're busy enough with their own lives, they don't need you around." the two proclaimed in unison.
"Stop pitying yourself," one scolded, "you don't deserve compassion, let alone freedom. The only one you have to blame is yourself for shutting out those who try to help!"
"Kill yourself." a cacophony of echoes jeered.
"What's the point?" Haru croaked. Painful tears spilled from his eyelids as he realised he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Destructive thoughts harrassed him relentlessly, each mocking his most painful flaws; it was like beating a dead horse, though, as Haru had already lost to the voices. Biting his lip and sniffling, he grabbed his phone, slung on a thick coat and some trainers, then stepped outside.
The chilly night air stabbed his exposed skin like shrapnel, yet everything remained numb. He didn't even shiver jogging through the village on a cold day like today.
I wonder if Makoto's still up. Maybe I could...
Haru dismissed the idea immediately. Even thinking about it hurt. It was only a matter of time until this sorted itself out, and Sunday was still available to do the work. He noticed he had stopped, so picked up his feet again and ran to the point of weariness. After removing the coat and trainers, Haru climbed back into his warm bed and attempted to sleep again.
Just as he was about to drift off, his heart started racing and he jolted awake. The sudden panic shot waves of anxieties through his body, completely upsetting his peace. He wanted to scream. He grabbed his phone and recorded the insults from his mind, then, inhaling deeply, unleashed a wail that sounded very unlike him. Haru's hands shook with the intensity of his own voice, which made him accidentally tap on a message that had just popped up on his notifications.
"Good evening, Haru. Here're some useful websites I found for our assignment! :)"
A text from Makoto. Normally, Haru was grateful for his help, since he was useless at researching, but right now it made him feel sick. I don't need help. I can work this out by myself. Stop pitying me. Another pang of nausea made Haru clutch his stomach. For a moment, he was tempted to send the audio, but decided against it as it would only create unnecessary concern. Reaching a wobbling finger out to the home button, he accidentally pressed send. A rush of adrenaline flushed his face and he lost the ability to move for a few seconds. Once unfrozen, he hurriedly pressed delete and instantly shut down the phone in panic. What were you thinking, stupid? You nearly made him worry. He groaned in defeat and collapsed for the third time that night into his bed, which felt more like a cage now.
Time crawled by as Haru lay restless in the sleeping prison. It was painful to exist. No matter how many times he tried to think rationally, the barbaric thoughts rejected every attempt.
"Who would want to hear you whining? You're so plain and arrogant the only thing that accepts you is water. Even that hates you now."
No, you've got it all wrong. It's not my fault...
"Come on, who else could be at fault? You're the one bringing this on yourself. Your friends only pretend to like you because they pity you. Pathetic! And you want to be free? Don't waste your time, just get a job like everyone else and work forever."
...but...
"No buts. You hear me? It's all. Your. Fault. Stop making excuses to feel better. You don't and never will deserve it. Go die if you want relief so badly."
Haru glanced at the clock with bloodshot eyes. Five in the morning. He had tried every method he thought possible, yet sleep was impossible. Instead of shutting his eyes, he lumbered out of bed into his kitchen. He opened a cupboard and grabbed a large bag of mackerel-flavoured crisps, which was saved for emergencies. Switching the lounge lights on, he flicked to the discovery channel on TV and lounged drowsily on the sofa. This is all a dream. When I wake up, I'll feel much better.
Roughly one hour later, he went upstairs and prepared to start his work. However, he was so tired from the night's events, he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. Focus. Ten fingers rested on the keyboard, unsure of what to type. Okay, let's start simple...
KNOCK KNOCK
A sharp rap on the front door broke Haru's focus. Annoyed, he trudged downstairs to answer it. Who could it be at this hour?
"Haaaruuuu!" A familiar face appeared in the doorspace-one with a flushed face, messy bedhead and trembling green eyes. "What was that message you sent me last night? I was worried sick but I couldn't leave the house because I had to take care of the twins and go straight to bed. I even thought about sneaking out because you weren't replying to any of my messages!"
...Message?
"Look, Makoto, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't send you a message last night."
"Yes you did, look, I'll show you!" Makoto held up his phone and tapped on his screen. The audio of Haru screaming played. His face flushed with embarrassment.
"That... I don't know what it is, but it definitely isn't me."
"But Haru, it's your voice..."
"No, you must be mistaken. Please go back home before your parents worry about you."
"I left them a note saying I'd be staying over at your house today. Let me in."
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine, please just go back..." Haru gritted his teeth before he said something he'd regret.
"Haruka..." Makoto bit his lip and suppressed a hurt look. "Something's not right. The only times you've acted like this are when you've been missing practise. Just open the door so I can help you sort this out."
Help... is Makoto pitying me? Does he think I'm too weak to pull through on my own? Haru began closing the door, but Makoto persisted and held it open with his own strength.
"Haru. That's enough." His voice became firm and serious. "This isn't a joke. There's something wrong and if I don't help, I know it'll only end badly." Both boys pushed with all their might on the door, but in the end, Makoto managed to barge in. Haru was furious. What if he thinks I'm incapable of living for myself?
"Leave me alone." he spat.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden? I thought we were friends-"
"Friends?" Haru half-chuckled half-scoffed, "Don't give me that bullshit. The only reason you hang around with me is because you... you pity me." He seethed pity as if poison laced the word.
"You know that's not true. We've known each other since childhood and never once have I pitied you! Please, just think try thinking sensibly right now." It was easy to tell that Makoto had just been putting on a brave face when in reality he was hurting. His words tumbled over each other in a faltering stutter.
"I have, but nothing works..." Haru's resolve began to shake as he desperately wanted to be comforted, to be told everything was okay and that he could move on with his life. The look in Makoto's eyes grew in concern. Without hesitation, he leaned forward and hugged Haru.
"I'm sorry you feel this way..." he consoled softly. Haru felt like he was a child again, protected from danger by his mother's arms. Maybe that was why, feeling his defences break down, he began to weep gently. Feeling the tears, Makoto's grip tightened, pushing Haru deeper into his collar. "I'm going to stay with you today. Not because I pity you, but because I care about you." He released his hold allowing Haru to wipe his eyes. The missing warmth made him feel lonely, but he was glad for the embrace while it lasted.
...
Makoto stared at Haru as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. Really, though, he could instantly tell what Haru was feeling: depression. He'd gone through it himself many times and knew the symptoms well: hollow eyes, a sickly expression, and a warped personality. Whenever he felt like this, he visited the doctor, took the medication, and within a few weeks he was right as rain. For Haru, on the other hand, he knew this would not be the case. It was up to Makoto to take care of him until he finally accepted the treatment.
He walked into the kitchen, beckoning Haru to follow him, then sat him down and started making breakfast-a hearty meal usually helped with the healing process. His hands deftly prepared Haru's favourite dish, grilled mackerel, with extra seasoning and soul supplemented. Watching Haru stare lifelessly out of the window caused pain in his chest; without lingering for another second, he dished up the meal and served it to him.
"Aren't you making anything for yourself?" Haru asked.
"Don't worry, I had breakfast earlier so I'll be fine." Makoto smiled. "Now eat up before it gets cold."
Haru squinted at him for a moment, and he nearly flinched; luckily, Haru averted his gaze to the mackerel before anything happened. He always knew when Makoto was lying but, thankfully, decided not to comment on it this time. If Haru had begun questioning him, it would only lead to more stress and more worry, which would be unhelpful for both of them.
There was a strangely solemn silence in the room as the two ate the fish. Aside from the occasional clinking of cutlery, not a word was spoken. It was peaceful; everything felt as it should have been. If only the rest of his life could be spent like this...
"Makoto."
The voice snapped Makoto out of his trance.
"Yes? Sorry, I was daydreaming." He spoke normally, but reality didn't feel real any more. Pandering thoughts of Haru vanishing suddenly crushed him and his gut sunk. Why am I feeling like this? That would never... Makoto felt sick.
"...Are you alright?" Haru queried. "You look pale."
"Yep, don't worry about me. Just feeling a bit tired... couldn't sleep last night." Makoto hoped Haru wouldn't question that.
"Oh. Right. Me neither."
Nothing more was said on the matter and Haru stacked the dishes up by the sink. Makoto quietly rose from his seat and headed towards the door, hoping Haru wouldn't notice.
"Where are you going?"
He tensed up. "Just need the toilet. I'll be quick." Before Haru could open his mouth, Makoto sped to the bathroom and locked the door. He attempted to breathe slowly and deeply-as his doctor had instructed him to in these situations-yet panic suddenly consumed him. Fear permeated his body like ink diffusing into water: it felt like a suddent burst of murkiness had entered him. Not now...
He sat on the floor with hands on head, trying to slow his racing thoughts down. I promised Haru I wouldn't worry so I could look after him. Losing it now would be bad. Come on Makoto, you have no reason to despair. Everything's fine. You're fine. And so is Haru. Positive self-reflection was another idea one of his doctors had suggested; self-calm, they called it. The concept was so cheesy he grinned. Eventually, the techniques worked their magic and Makoto was at peace once more. Now, he had to attend to Haru.
...
Sitting around doing nothing was boring. Makoto had been gone far too long-twenty minutes, to be precise-so Haru decided to check on him. However, he didn't have to wait long, as at that very moment, Makoto burst through the door in dramatic fashion.
"What took you so long?" Haru frowned accusingly.
"Indigestion. The mackerel must have upset my stomach, I guess," Makoto rubbed his stomach in an over-exaggerated manner as if to prove the statement. Haru only eyed him more scrutinously, making him gulp nervously. "Well, I'm fine now. Wanna watch some TV?"
Haru considered agreeing, his lips beginning to form the word "yes", however, an abrupt surge of nausea took over his body. All the colour felt as if it were draining from his skin, and he lost the capacity to think rationally. Am I dying? Is this it?
Makoto, being almost telepathically connected to Haru, noticed immediately.
"Haru, are you alright? Do you want to go to the bathroom?"
Haru shook his head and pursed his lips together tightly as if doing so would prevent him from vomiting. Instead of answering, he arose from the chair and shakily sauntered towards the living room. He knew Makoto was following, bombarding him with questions along the way, but his mind drowned out the noise as he lay down on the sofa, softly shutting his eyes in a feverish manner.
Then, he fell asleep.
...
Makoto was alarmed by Haru's odd behaviour, but knew what needed to be done. He grabbed a thin blanket from a nearby pile and covered Haru with it. The teen stirred in his slumber and Makoto's heart panged with guilt. I hope he recovers soon... poor Haru, he's probably exhausted from all this. If only I had come sooner...
No. This wasn't the time for what-ifs. Now was the time to make a difference. Makoto snuck into the hall, donned his coat and boats, then quietly walked outside. As he progressed further from the house, his pace became quicker, until he was practically running. He was going to the local pharmacy to buy medicine for Haru-the kind his doctors always recommended him for depression. Upon arriving, he quickly scanned the shelves for it, purchased it, then sprinted back to Haru's house.
His fingers fumbled on the doorhandle as he imagined the plethora of horrific scenarios which could have taken place when he was gone. Stop thinking, start acting. He carefully opened the door and removed his coat and boots, then hid the medicine in the kitchen cupboard. I'm glad that's over with. Makoto relaxed and headed towards the living room to check on Haru. I hope he's slept well.
Haru wasn't there. Anxiety raced through Makoto's veins. Hurry! He ran upstairs, almost slamming open the bedroom door. I was too late...
Haru sat curled up on the floor with markings on his hands. A mixture of fluids stained his clothes and fresh tears were spilling from his blotchy eyes.
"Haru!"
Makoto's voice caught in his throat as he rushed over to his friend, tears on the verge of spilling from his eyes. Haru only wept more when he sat down in front of him. Without thinking, Makoto reached out to his hands and gently stroked them. Looking closely, he saw that there was no blood, just raw skin.
"Haru... why are your hands like this?" he ventured weakly.
Haru sniffled into his sleeve. "D-don't..."
"Hm?"
"Don't wanna tell you. You.. you'd only tell me off."
"I promise I won't. I just want to know... why."
"..." Haru blinked. "I woke up feeling terrible, then I noticed you'd also left. I thought you'd given up on me, so I went to my room to... cry. The pain... it wouldn't stop. So, to let it out, I tried scratching myself, really hard. But it hurt... it hurt so much, I cried even more. I was thinking of... thinking of doing something much worse if you didn't come back."
Makoto went pale. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Gently, he wrapped his hands around Haru's and shuffled closer.
"I'm really sorry, Haru. I know I should've told you I was leaving, at least left a note, but I..." Tears rolled down his cheeks. "...I was being selfish. I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He mumbled the same words over and over until his mouth ran dry; a knot the size of a fist was constricting his throat and he had nothing left to say. Instinctively, he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on Haru's forehead. It surprised him that Haru didn't move away, but he didn't dwell on it. Feeling bold, he slowly wrapped his arms around him, caressing him like those were their last moments on Earth. I'm sorry Haru, I really am...
...
Haru felt strange. His eyes were still sore from crying, his hands felt itchy, and he still felt drained, but somehow, this hug seemed to cause all the pain to vanish. Weakly, he lifted his arms, and Makoto began to retract. But Haru needed that warmth desperately right now; it felt as if he was shrouded in darkness without it. Not hesitating slightly, Haru reached back to Makoto and squeezed him tightly.
"Makoto, it's not your fault. I acted like that because my thinking was hazy. I feel better now that you're here with me, though, so... thanks." Makoto sighed and Haru felt his arms back around him.
"Haru... I'll always be here for you when you need me. Please, never hesitate to let me know when you feel like this again. I want to help you. It pains me to see you in such a state, and if I didn't know you were feeling this way, I think I... I wouldn't be able to live with myself." Makoto carded his fingers through Haru's sleep-tousled hair, revelling in the life he still held in his hands. "I care about you so much... and so do the others. Don't leave us. Promise."
"I promise."
The two didn't move for at least another ten minutes because they were so comfortable. Everything was going to be okay now.
Makoto was the one to break the hold, noticing it was time for dinner already. He lifted Haru up with him and they went downstairs together. As Haru sat at the kitchen table, he noticed it felt very different to this morning. Watching Makoto cook felt like home, and the darkness outside no longer frightened him as much. He tapped his feet to a happy tune on the floor, feeling delighted at having overcome this slump. Hopefully this bliss would last, at least until tomorrow.
Both boys ate their meal with gusto, grateful the whole ordeal had been largely settlde. During the meal, Makoto mentioned the depression medication he had gone to buy for Haru when he had left; he flinched whilst saying it, worried that Haru would be angry with him for it. Instead, his response was quite different:
"Thank you, Makoto. I'll remember it for next time."
"R-really? You're not mad at me?"
"No. I was upset before, but I didn't know why you'd left. Now that I do, it feels amazing to think there's someone who cares about me so much. I mean it Makoto, I don't think I could live without you."
"Isn't that a bit exaggerated?" Makoto chuckled and the two continued exchanging playful banter through the meal. Afterwards, they settled down on the sofa and played video games together until it was late. At this point, the two were exhausted, so they plodded upstairs together and changed into their pyjamas. Bed seemed like the best option right now, so instead of bothering to brush their teeth, they went straight to Haru's room.
"Oh no, I forgot I didn't bring a mattress with me today because I was only gonna stay until I went home!" Makoto groaned.
"Don't worry, you can sleep in my bed tonight."
"Oka-wait, where will you sleep, Haru?"
"Duh," Haru said, "in my bed."
The gears turned in Makoto's mind as he suddenly realised what that implied. "Gahh, Haru! That would be too awkward! Don't say things like that so seriously..." Haru turned around and slumped his shoulders. "Ha-Haru?" Now Makoto was worried he'd offended him somehow. "Are you alri-"
"Hahaha, of course I'm serious!" Haru laughed uncharacteristically. His body quivered as his sides shook with pure, joyous mirth. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing, but today's been so stressful, and right now I feel amazing. Words can't express how grateful I am to you, Makoto Tachibana. Thank you. Thank you."
Makoto's face flushed hearing his full name coming from Haru. He grinned widely as both of them clambered into bed together, positivity almost radiating from them. Haru turned to face Makoto and stared into his eyes. This is him. The man who saved me. I owe my life to him. Haru's heart felt full as he continued gazing into those emerald discs. Closing his eyes, his heart felt satisfied, and his mind was at rest. Before drifting off completely, he felt two large arms around him, protecting him, keeping him safe and sound.
Tonight, Haru and Makoto both had a full night's sleep.
...
Makoto rose when he heard the gulls crying outside the window. He tried stretching, then remembered where he was. Turning his head, he saw Haru lying there, eyes shut tightly, mouth inhaling and exhaling rhythmically. It was calm there, so he stayed and watched for a few more minutes. Then, remembering he had to text his parents to tell them where he'd been, since he'd been so tired last night it slipped his mind.
He stretched and yawned, then went downstairs to prepare breakfast again. Tying the apron, he was content with the way things had transpired last night, so feeling the sun on his face, nothing could make him happier. Or so he thought.
"G'morning," a sleepy voice yawned.
"Good morning, Haru-chan. How do omelettes sound?"
"Nice, thought I'd prefer some mackerel sprinkled in..." Haru joked.
Makoto smiled. "But you eat it every day. Don't you ever get bored of it?"
"Nope. Never will. Mackerel's the best."
"Okay, okay, I'll give you some. Hang on a second."
Makoto served the (mackerel) omelettes and sat down at the table with Haru.
"Oh no." Haru groaned.
"What is it?"
"I still have to do that homework later... will you help me with it?"
"Sure! But finish your food first, okay?"
"Right." Several metal-clackings later, they had finished.
"Wait, Haru, before we start," Makoto said, "are you feeling any better today?"
"..."
"..."
"...Much better," Haru smiled, "thanks to you."
"That's great to hear!" Makoto beamed.
"Yep," Haru added, "it sure is."
A (very) late happy new year to all readers! I really do apologise for being so late with this. I haven't written for a while due to certain personal circumstances, and this fic was sort of a way to vent my feelings. Self-indulgence in its purest form. I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to post another chapter of Secluded Secrets, but hopefully I can get to it at some point.
P.S. If there are any factual inaccuracies, continuity errors, grammatical errors etc. please don't hesitate to correct me!