Makoto Tachibana was in a hurry, which was rare considering the green-eyed teen was typically punctual. His feet, covered by his favorite orange sneakers, slapped the ground quickly. He cursed his clumsiness when he accidentally ran through a few puddles from rain the previous night. His school bag was over his shoulder, two lunches inside his mother made, one for himself and one for Haru, who was probably still in the bath waiting for Makoto's hand to help him out.
Makoto smiled to himself. Haru was hopeless when it came to these things, but that was just one of the reasons why Makoto loved him.
Rounding the corner to start the climb up the steps to Haru's house, Makoto stopped short, his feet skidding slightly when he did. Squinting ahead suspiciously, he noticed several large, black crows, standing towards the side at the bottom of the steps, picking at something. With trepidation to his steps, Makoto walked closer, his footfalls slow. Crows meant that something was dead; probably an animal, and Makoto hated seeing anything dead, especially animals.
Upon closer investigation, Makoto froze, a gasp leaving his throat and his hand coming up to slap over his mouth in shock. He saw fur, white fur, stained by blood. The sharp, grey beaks of the crows were delving into the small body of the kitten, pulling out pieces of-
"Oh God," Makoto breathed out loud, his trembling fingers sliding down from his lips, letting his hand fall back down to his side. It was the kitten that Makoto constantly saw on his way to Haru's house, the kitten he affectionately called Yuki. Somehow, for a stray, the cat always managed to have a clean, white pelt. Makoto's mind was suddenly filled with memories of bringing cat toys for Yuki, bringing small snacks for the kitten, begging his parents to house the cat, and he felt sick. He felt bile rising to his throat. He felt his stomach turning and churning, his breakfast wanting to empty itself right then and there. His eyes were burning with tears that desperately wanted to fall.
But not yet. Not here. Someone could see him here, someone could hear him sobbing here if he start now.
"Sh-shoo," he choked out, "Hey! Gget away," he said liuder, starting forward for the birds, several of which looked up for a brief moment before turning back to their... meal. Finally, a few of the vile birds started flying off, but a some remained, too entranced by the food to bother leaving, Makoto crouched down and practically hit the birds away, getting a few nicks on his hands from talons and beaks that tried to fight him back. He winced but didn't relent and, eventually, the birds all flew away, cawing shrilly in the air.
Now, Makoto was alone. Alone with the bloody body of his favorite stray. The bile rose back into his throat and he had to force it back down. His entire body was trembling, his shoulders shaking as he forced himself to look at the body. Previous bright golden eyes were glazed and empty, one was even missing.
Makoto couldn't look anymore.
He quickly dug his towel out of his swim club bag and, with badly trembling fingers, he picked up the tiny carcass and placed it on his towel, blanching as he wrapped the kitten in the fabric.
He couldn't go to Haru's now, or school either for that matter. He picked up the towel and turned back the way he came, fighting the nausea and the tears in his eyes as he ran back home.
Makoto was a complete mess by the time he reached his house. His parents were already at work and he had watched Ren and Ran bike off to meet some of their school friends before he left for Haru's.
He was alone; alone with a small body to bury and his horrible, guilty thoughts.
It didn't take too long to dig a decently sized hole with a garden trowel and place the towel inside the hole. He couldn't bring himself to unwrap Yuki, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle it, knowing he wouldn't ever use the towel again either way. He had dug the hole next to where his goldfish were buried. The flowers he had picked out only the previous day were still there and fresh, but Makoto knew he'd have to get more now.
The tears had started as soon as he reached his home. He couldn't hold them back anymore. As he gave the dirt a last pat with the trowel and sat back, he let all of them fall freely, covering his face with his hands, not caring about the dirt on them.
A wave of nausea hit him with full force and he couldn't hold it back this time. He bolted inside and into the nearest bathroom before he lost all his breakfast into the toilet. His throat burned, his mouth tasted of bile and his eyes were stinging badly from the tears that just wouldn't stop.
Eventually, he had nothing left in his stomach, but his body was still heaving, trying to make him suffer more. But, in Makoto's mind, he deserved it.
It was his fault.
He had taken the responsibility of playing with the little kitten and now it was dead. Dead because of him. Dead because he didn't try hard enough to convince his parents to take it in. Dead because he couldn't find it a home on his own.
After a decent amount of time spent curled up, crying, paralyzed with emotion on the bathroom floor, Makoto hauled himself up. He looked at himself in the mirror; his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying and there were dry and fresh tears still on his cheeks. He wiped them away and took his contacts out. The plastic discs would only irritate his eyes, especially if he cried more.
There was no way he could go to school, or practice for that matter. He was a total mess. He shakily pulled out his phone and sent out four texts.
- Hey Haru. Sorry I didn't come and get you. I'm not feeling well so I won't be at school. xx
- Kou-chan, sorry I won't be at practice today. Not feeling so well.
- Nagisa, please make sure Haru gets some lunch. I'm not feeling well and won't be at school today.
- Rei, I know I promised to help you in practice today, but I'm not feeling so well and won't be at school.
He shut his phone off after the texts all sent. He didn't want to talk to anyone or have his friends asking him if he was okay. He didn't want to think about anything. He felt drained and tired and miserable.
Going outside to get his abandoned school bag and swim club bag sent another bout of sickness through him when his eyes found the recently turned up dirt. The nausea sent him once again running into the bathroom to lose nothing but foul tasting bile from his body.
The rest of the day, Makoto spent lying in bed, occasionally fleeing to the bathroom when he felt sick again. He informed his parents when they got home that he wasn't feeling well, which kept his siblings from his room the rest of the night.
After the family ate dinner without him, his mother brought him up a tray of food.
"Makoto dear?" His mother's voice floated into the room from behind his door. She slid it open and walked in, placing the food on the table next to his bed; Makoto had his back to her, in bed underneath the blankets. "Here's your dinner. If you need anything, your father and I are downstairs." Upon receiving no response, she smiled softly and walked out of the room, sliding the door shut quietly.
Makoto tried to eat the food his mother had left him. He had started to feel slightly hungry so he settled on picking at some of the rice. It only took a few minutes before he was nauseous again, his stomach churning as the new food hit it. The feeling sent him racing for the bathroom for the third time where upon he promptly emptied his stomach of the food, sobbing quietly so no one would hear.
He settled himself into bed for the night, leaving the food barely touched on the table next to his bed.
His sleep wasn't calming at the least. His mind was filled with images of blood and stained white fur and glazed golden eyes. The squawking of crows was the only sound he heard as he watched the birds in his dream eat Yuki. The images were amplified in his mind. The crows were bigger, their beaks sharper, their shrill shrieks louder. He woke up, muffling his screams with his pillow when he could've swore that the large flapping wings of his nightmare were right against his ears. All he could hear when we woke up were his own harsh gasp and pants, his heart pounding in his head, and the screams he successfully muffled. He was crying again, and the pillow helped mute his sobs as well. His breathing was ragged and shaky as he tried to get it even again. At that moment, he found himself wishing for his nightmares of the ocean to come back. These new ones were far worse.
Makoto spent the night in and out of fitful sleep, waking up several times crying and gasping for breath. His nightmares hadn't been this bad since after the training camp, and, even then, he had Haru besides him to make sure he slept soundly through the fear.
The morning finally came and Makoto was still a mess. He woke up late, having forgotten to set his alarm. His eyes were even more red-rimmed and they stung when he put his contacts in. His throat felt abused from all the acid that had forced its way up. He knew people would question how drawn his face looked, how exhausted his normally bright green eyes looked, and he didn't feel like being his cheerful self as a cover.
He couldn't skip school again. He told himself to get over it. To stop being a baby, but that just brought back up painful memories of the previous day.
He skipped breakfast entirely, knowing he wouldn't be able to stomach the food and that he was already late.
"Makoto?" His mother questioned when he came down stairs, "Are you alright" Her worried, motherly gaze viewed her eldest child, from his disheveled school uniform to his red eyes.
"Fine," he responded curtly, turning away to both hide his face and to slide on his school blazer, hoping it would hide how wrinkled his shirt was. He hadn't bothered to iron it after it came out of the wash and he was paying the price.
"Okay dear, but you'd better hurry up to school. You'll be late at this rate," his mother said. Makoto nodded and left without another word, his bag over his shoulder and his phone in his hand.
As he slowly walked to school, not bothering to care about his tardiness, he turned his phone back on to greet the onslaught of texts that he never received the day before.
From Haru: Okay. Do you want me to come over later? x
From Kou-chan: Feel better Makoto-senpai! See you tomorrow hopefully!
From Nagisa: Aww Mako-chan! That's terrible! I hope you feel better! Haru-chan can totally have some of my bento! I don't have any mackerel in it though so he'll have to settle for squid, but Haru-chan like squid, right?
From Rei: Feel better, Makoto-senpai.
The corcern his boyfriend and friends showed for him made Makoto choke up again and stop walking. Now he felt guilty about Yuki and about not replying to any of the texts, not to mention selfish for ignoring his friends. He had to spend a decent amount of time ridding the tears that arose from his eyes again. He just needed to get through the day and then it would be the weekend. The weekend would help him recuperate, or so he hoped.
When Makoto finally arrived at school, classes had started twenty minutes prior.
"I apologize for my tardiness, sensei," Makoto said immediately when he got into the room, his body assuming a bow. The sensei looked at him for a moment, noticing how subdued he looked rather than his usual cheerful demeanor and gave him a mere nod as a pardon.
Makoto shuffled over to his desk, setting his bag on the floor as he took his seat. He felt Haru's eyes on him and he forced himself not to look up, knowing his boyfriend's concerned blue eyes would only make him choke up with tears again. Ah, there was that selfish feeling again. Haru had that effect on him.
Haru's gaze remaining on him for a few moments, his eyes narrowing when Makoto didn't look his way. Something was wrong. Haru bet the whole class knew something was wrong. Makoto Tachibana was never gloomy, at least not in public anyway. Haru was determined to get to the bottom of this, to fix whatever was wrong.
The duration of class went by without a peep from Makoto. He kept his eyes focused on the empty slate of his desk in front of him, never making a move to get out his homework or his textbook or even a pencil. He was obligated to be there. He wanted to stay at home alone again. He couldn't shake the feeling of depression and sorrow coming over him again the entire class and, by the time the bell rang, he had already decided to bolt from the room as soon as possible.
Class ended for lunch and, just as he had planned, Makoto left the room as fast as he could, headed for the bathroom for some privacy to pull himself together.
"Mako-" Haru had started to say, turning to Makoto's desk behind only to see an empty chair. Makoto? His eyes skirted the classroom quickly but Makoto was nowhere in sight. Haru felt even more troubled. He stood up and left the room as well, determined to find Makoto and make everything alright.
"I-I'm so sorry," Makoto found whispering out. In his blind rushing down the hall, he had accidentally bumped into a third-year boy. The boy was larger than him – which was a feat considering Makoto's size – and looking down at him with glowering eyes.
"You're sorry, huh?" The buff third-year asked, grabbing Makoto's shirt collar and tie tightly in a meaty fist and backing him up against a wall, "Why didn't you watch where the fuck you were going in the first place, y'little shit?" Makoto's eyes went wide. He hadn't been thrown around by any bullies since his first-year. After he had hit another growth spurt, he was taller and stronger than any of the guys that used to pick on him so he was left alone. "If you were really fuckin' sorry you'd give me some money," the kid continued, tightening his hold on Makoto and giving him a rough shake.
"I-I'm sorry," Makoto managed to choke out again, "I-I really don't have anything on me... I'm s-sorry." He couldn't deal with this. He was close to shutting down, to closing off everything and everybody and just going somewhere to get out more of his sorrow, to mourn his loss. He really didn't mean for this to happen. He hadn't wanted to bother anyone. He had only come to school with the resolve that he would avoid any sort of conversation whatsoever.
"Useless," the third-year practically snarled, "Guess I'll just have to teach you a lesson for next time then, huh?" Makoto's eyes focused on the fist raised to strike him and he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the pain.
I deserve this. This is penance, he thought to himself.
But the pain never came.
"Hey." Haru's voice reached his ears and, when Makoto opened his eyes slightly, he saw Haru's hand gripping the third-year's forearm tightly, "Third-years don't have lunch now, isn't that right?" Makoto saw Haru's grip visibly tighten around the kid's arm. Clearly, it hurt, and the third-year quickly let go of Makoto and shrugged Haru off.
"Tch... Whatever," the beefy kid snorted, turning nonchalantly to walk off down the hall. Before Makoto could slide down the wall and collapse crying to the floor, Haru's hand was grabbing his. Haru quickly tugged Makoto along and into the bathroom, closing the door after making sure stalls were all empty of students so that they could be alone.
"Tell me what's wrong, Makoto." Haru said sternly as soon as they were alone. Makoto's head was angled down, his dull green eyes focused on his shoes. He couldn't look at Haru. He knew one look into deep blue eyes would make him break down completely. That would be selfish; to trouble Haru with his problems. They were together, but for something as simple as this? Makoto knew it was self-centered of him to worry Haru.
"Makoto," Haru said again, his voice firm yet holding a tone of tenderness. He reached out and gently lifted Makoto's chin up, his eyes meeting Makoto's watery green orbs, "Makoto, please, tell me what's wrong," he said, his voice soft and full of caring.
As soon as his eyes connected with Haru's, Makoto's lip trembled and he bit it to keep it from moving as tears started to slip from his eyes.
"Haru," he choked out, his voice cracking with sorrow. Every bit of sadness and misery and guilt came rushing upon him with full force as he broke down, sinking to the floor, not even caring if the tiles were clean or not. Haru sunk down with him, wrapping his arms around his shaking shoulders. Makoto threw his arms around Haru, burying his face in his neck and sobbing into his boyfriend's shoulder. Haru's hands were moving over his back, rubbing in soothing circles as Makoto's body heaved with choked sobs.
"Ha-Haru... Yu-Yuki... F-found him yesterday a-and he wasn't," Makoto tried to explain, his voice cracking and trembling, "I-It's all my fault, Haru! It's my fault that h-he's..." He trailed off, crying even more. He couldn't say it. He couldn't bring himself to say the word out loud. It would be too painful.
"Shhh," Haru soothed, his hands still rubbing Makoto's broad back, his arms still tight and secure around him, "It's alright. Let it out, Makoto." He slid one hand up to cup the back of Makoto's head and hold him even closer, if that was even possible.
Finally, Makoto's sobs quieted until he was only sniffling and hiccupping again Haru's neck.
"Let's go home," Haru murmured softly, his hand stroking through Makoto's hair.
"What?" Makoto rasped out, his throat rough from crying, "I-I didn't hear you, Haru."
"I said," Haru pulled Makoto back slightly so that they were face to face, his hands moving to hold Makoto's wrists in each hand, "Let's go home. Skip school. You don't need to be here right now."
And I need to be taking care of you.
Makoto knew that was what Haru meant and, if he had the heart to, he would've smiled. He nodded slowly, moving to clasp both of Haru's hands in his own.
"Okay," he said, his voice small. Haru stood up, pulling Makoto with him.
After getting both of their bags, they stole away from the school, Makoto's hand clutched tightly in Haru's. Haru purposefully had them avoid the steps and go the long away around to his house. He presumed that was where Makoto had encountered the kitten and decided that going by there wouldn't be good for him.
"When did you last eat?" Haru asked when they were inside.
"Um... I tried to eat some rice last night but I... I-I can't keep anything down. Don't waste you food on me, Haru," Makoto protested.
"Nonsense," Haru said shortly. He took Makoto's hand and led him into the living room, seating them both on the couch, "Take this off," Haru muttered mostly to himself, pushing off Makoto's blazer and working out the knot in his school tie. Makoto let him do it, finding he didn't have the energy to protest. "I take it you didn't sleep well," Haru said softly, his eyes meeting Makoto's, full of unspoken caring and sympathy. Makoto pressed his lips together into a firm line, shaking his head.
"I-I couldn't," he choked out, "They were worse than usual," he supplied, knowing Haru would know what he was talking about.
"It wasn't your fault, Makoto," Haru said, scooting close to him to take Makoto's face in his hands so the larger teen couldn't look away, "None of this is your fault, alright?" Makoto opened his mouth to protest, tears already welling up in his eyes again but Haru wouldn't have any of that. He moved forward, pressing his lips against Makoto's in a soft kiss to silence him.
"It wasn't your fault," he repeated against Makoto's plaint lips, "I'll repeat it until you think so too. It wasn't your fault." He felt Makoto's lips tremble against his own and then the green-eyed boy was crying again. Salty tears once more dotted Haru's shirt as he held Makoto close, whispering sweet-nothings in his ear and rocking them gently back and forth. Makoto cried until he couldn't anymore and when he stopped he felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted.
Haru successfully got Makoto to eat and, thankfully, the small amount of food stayed down. The rest of the day they spent in Haru's bed after taking a long, hot, bath, holding each other, sharing soft kisses, Haru telling Makoto everything would be alright.
Makoto gave into exhaustion early from not having any sleep the night before. Haru wouldn't let himself fall asleep until Makoto had been sleeping soundly for at least two hours. Only then did he allow his eyes to slip shut, his arms still wrapped around his boyfriend, holding him close.
"Lights will guide you homeAnd ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you."
Notes: Prompt: post/61099121978/specific-prompt Hope I did the prompt justice uwu The ending is kinda bad in my opinion but by the time I finished writing up to where the prompt ended I was like 99% emotionally compromised. Title and lyrics I stuck on the end from the Coldplay song "Fix You." Comments always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading 3
