It had been a relatively normal day. He went to school, zoned out in all his classes, and walked home by himself. Makoto was at basketball practice, and he had apologized at least a hundred times for not being able to walk home with Haru.
If you're that sorry, quit the basketball team, Haru remembered saying. He wasn't being serious, however. He could tell that Makoto really enjoyed being on the team. He enjoyed being around people who would talk back to him, laugh with him.
Things that Haru didn't do.
Haru had grown accustomed to being alone. He never really felt lonely, though. With Makoto being so busy all of a sudden, the only person that would always be there for him was his grandmother.
Haru enjoyed spending time with her. He loved listening to her stories, and found that he didn't mind telling some of his own to her. She was a very stern woman, but as long as he listened to her, she never got angry with him. And she always seemed to know when Haru just wanted to sit beside her silently, and she would oblige him.
She had gotten sick a few months ago, and Haru had never been more scared in his life. He stayed home from school to take care of her, and Makoto would come by right after school to help. It turned out to be short-lived, and she returned to full strength soon after.
Which was why Haru's heart started pounding when he walked into his eerily silent house. No pleasant, "Welcome home, Haruka," greeted his ears, just the distant waves lapping at the shore.
He dropped his bag to the floor and took a few steps forward. "Grandma…?" When no response came, he decided to investigate. He checked the living room, the back porch, the kitchen, the bathroom. There was no sign of her.
Haru usually wasn't allowed in his grandmother's bedroom, but he decided to make an exception for today. His heart was hammering hard in his chest, daring to hope that he was wrong. He stopped in front of her door and took a breath.
The door made no sound as he opened it, and he stuck his head inside, murmuring her name quietly. He could see her figure under the covers.
"Grandma, I'm home." She didn't move, and he slowly walked over to the bed. He reached out with trembling hands, gently shaking her still form.
"It's late, Grandma. You shouldn't sleep in this late cause then you won't be able to go to sleep tonight. That's what you told me," he said, his voice starting to quiver as he shook her body harder. "Come on, wake up."
Finally, he pulled back the covers, revealing his grandmother's still chest. He held a hand up to her nose to feel for any breathe. Her lips had a blue tint to them.
He knew what this was. He was in middle school, of course he knew what death was, but he'd never seen it up close.
For a while he just stood there, holding his grandmother's hand, staring at her still face. Then the reality of what had happened finally sunk in, and he ran to the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet before vomiting the little he had eaten that day. Even after there was nothing left to purge, he dry-retched until his chest heaved with exertion.
Slowly, he wiped his mouth and stood up, making his way back to his grandmother's room. She was exactly where he had left her. The tears started spilling out and before he knew it he was kneeling on the floor beside her bed, holding onto her hand and screaming. The pain and shock was all at once too much to bear, and Haru slipped into unconsciousness, head next to his grandmother's body.
He awoke hours later, the setting sun sending hues of pink and purple across the ocean and into the room. All of a sudden, a powerful odor assaulted his senses. Her body already smelled like death.
And so he was running, through the hall and down the stairs, not bothering to close the door behind him as he quickly closed the gap between him and Makoto's house. He knocked on the door twice before falling to his knees, his breathing hitching and uneven. Of course, Makoto was the one to open the door.
"Haru! Oh god, Haru, what happened?" Makoto was terrified, Haru could tell, but he couldn't bring himself to answer. He felt himself being pulled inside and familiar arms wrapping around him as his body shook with sobs. Large hands made gentle circles on his back, and Haru found his voice.
"She's gone," was all he said, and all he needed to say. He felt Makoto's embrace tense, the circles on his back freeze, and dampness on his shoulder as tears fell from his best friend's eyes.
He didn't know what to say. Was there anything he could say to make this better?
"Haru, I…I don't…" But Haru only buried his head in Makoto's chest, and Makoto knew that he didn't want to hear any words of comfort. None of them would be true, anyway.
So the two continued to sit in the front entryway, both crying into each other's shoulders. Eventually, Makoto's parents came to see what all the commotion was about. A look from Makoto made them stop in their tracks.
"She's dead."
"Haru."
"What, Makoto."
Makoto sighed as he sat on the floor next to the bathtub where Haru was immersed. He'd been in there for the last six hours, and Makoto was going to explode with worry.
"It's been three months."
"So?"
"You haven't cried since then, have you," he said. It wasn't a question. Haru only sunk lower into the water in response, causing Makoto to sigh once again. He turned around and sat on his knees, facing Haru.
"Haru, it's ok to be sad."
"I'm fine."
"We both know that's not true."
"Makoto," Haru growled, his voice low in warning. Makoto kept going.
"You haven't been eating, not even mackerel. You won't come to school or the pool or the beach. You spend the entire day in the bath."
Makoto felt anger rising in Haru, and his confidence went up. Any emotion had to be a good sign, considering Haru had been completely apathetic for the last three months.
"And yet you won't cry."
"I said that I'm fine, Makoto!" Haru all but yelled, shocking his friend, and Makoto took a step back. Then he slowly hung his head.
"She wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."
"How the hell would you know what she wanted?" Haru asked vehemently, standing up in the tub, sloshing water onto the floor. "She was my grandma!"
"I loved her too!"
"She was all I had left!"
"You have me!"
Makoto placed his hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The words hung thickly in the air. Haru still stood in the tub, eyes wide as he watched his best friend start to cry.
"Haru, I'm sorry, I just…I love you, and I loved her, and she would never forgive me and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you," he choked out, wiping his eyes.
"You're not grieving. You're killing yourself, Haru."
Haru took a quick survey of his body, and Makoto was right. He had been skinny before, but now he could count every single one of his ribs, and his skin was a strange, pasty color, similar to what his grandmother's skin had looked like when he found her…
Oh no.
In a flash, Makoto was pulling Haru out of the tub, holding his shaking form in his arms. Haru was gripping the front of his shirt in his hands hard enough to turn his knuckles white, but still no tears fell.
"Haru…" Makoto whispered, running a hand through smooth black hair. "You know, it's ok to cry."
With those words, Haru finally broke. The tears he had been suppressing for so long came flooding forward, wetting the front of Makoto's shirt. Makoto only pulled him closer, and together they cried until they had no tears left.
Haru slept through the night for the first time since it happened, and in his dreams he saw her smile.
