Rude light slipped between the curtains of Makoto's bedroom window, dubbing everything in wake a subtle Sunday morning.

Much like it did only a handful of hours ago, the previous evening, the light belonging to the moon though instead; somewhere far, far up high, cold and unreachable and dominating, slashing across the dark-haired boy's face, stimulating clarity to the sapphire blue of his irises as he shifted his position, setting the already-unexpected situation further into motion.


Nanase Haruka and Tachibana Makoto had spent a typical, tolerant Saturday afternoon together, attempting to construct plans for the most ridiculous and tedious class project thus far that school year, (in Haruka's unreserved opinion). The study session consisted of unzipped bags and untouched books, a lot of lying on the floor at the feet of Haruka's dining room table, rapid-fire texting with their friends and teammates, Nagisa and Rei, and Makoto's endless lighthearted ramblings about upcoming happenings and anything else that he felt so inclined to muse about aloud.

And Haru found himself murmuring agreeable hums in all the right places as he relaxed into the ongoing hours, contributing to the conversation in his own quiet way. Haru was well aware that he often unintentionally gave off the impression that he was ignoring basically everything taking place in life at any given moment, (whether or not when immersed inside a body of water), but in truth he wasn't at all so dramatically apathetic. He listened. He listened thoughtfully, to every single syllabary of every single word, weighing in on each and every breath of his messy-haired, kind-hearted best friend.

Maybe not for just anyone to that extent, but on lazy afternoons like this, with Makoto, it was the whole truth. And he sometimes caught himself wanting to make sure that Makoto knew that his words were of value.

Haru rested on his back, the brisk afternoon breeze sauntering in from the open window to his left as gentle as a whisper, mixing with Makoto's tone of voice, creating a lullaby that Haru would admittedly lean into and over the ricketiest railing for in order to claim maximum audibility. The shorter boy had both of his arms wrapped around a cushion, securing it to his middle as he simply tuned in and blinked, eyelashes framing each delicate glance over in Makoto's direction.

Makoto had been sprawled out languid to Haru's right, lying parallel to him, his half-bare arms shifting from one position to another while he talked as though the day had no end; from palms up by his sides, dangerously close to Haru's own extremities, to stretching up and in-between his head and the rectangular cushion beneath it, consequently drawing the bottom hem of his t-shirt up to his lower abs, the loopholes of his jeans and slight peek of his boxer briefs giving the quieter boy far too much to think about.

Haru felt lightheaded. Knowing that Makoto would talk honestly with him and share his time like this whether Haru ignored him or not forced the blue-eyed swimmer to swallow past the knot simmering in his core.

The knot, somewhere halfway in-between his heart and stomach, had made itself a home over an unmapped span of time. Maybe it really was unhealthy to eat mackerel to the extent that Haru had grown to prefer.

Or maybe he just genuinely enjoyed spending time with his best friend, having the stability of someone who knows him so well and uncoils underneath mutual trust, and all of the nagging, deprecating thoughts concerning the degree of his feelings should go the hell away. Feelings are not often born alongside explanations. Sure, some sentiments are capable of change, with massive amounts of effort and time, but this persistent warmth that Haru could no longer ignore was not something he could help. The knot was incapable of being digested, he was sure of it at this point. He couldn't just shoo it away, so long as it remained a secret.

And this pesky knot certainly had no intention of being forgotten when Makoto abruptly wrapped up his current sentence, (something about their new training regimen), sighing happily and tilting his head to meet Haru's gaze for the first time in quite a few minutes.

A chill wandered down Haru's spine as their eyes aligned with one another, his grip on the cushion weakening as the temptation to bring it up to his face so that he could scream into it grew. Haru felt himself accepting the fact that he was just going to have to get used to these emotions devouring him whole, pulling his helpless form forward mysteriously like the ocean tide.

Stupid perfect Makoto.

The bobbing of his adam's apple had ceased, his evenly-shaped lips gradually closing together in the form of a content smile, eyelids heavy as they searched the surface of Haru's subdued stare. This was suddenly far more than yet another simple, fleeting glance, and Haru wondered if he was only imagining Makoto's cheeks flushing darker, much like his own certainly were.

Makoto blinked his bright eyes endearingly. "We'll get a lot accomplished when Rei's over to help motivate us all," he said assuredly, with a hint of embarrassment, in regards to their lack of homework progress.

"Depending on how motivated he can get Nagisa to be," Haru replied, sounding unconvinced, his throat a bit dry.

Makoto broke their gaze, closing his eyes and laughing freely, having to consider the fact that Nagisa and all of his misdirected energy would indeed be joining their study session tomorrow before the start of the new school week.

"Aha…. Too true." The taller boy lifted himself up from his lounging position and sat cross-legged, placing his chin in the cup of his palm. "Well, we'll get the project started and done one way or another, no worries!"

Haru wasn't worried in the slightest, honestly, he had been over the entire assignment the moment it was announced in class, but he couldn't help but adore Makoto's steady sense of reassurance, always written readily in his expressions. They would complete their project and receive a good grade on it; it wouldn't play out any other way.

Haru bit down anxiously along his bottom lip when Makoto uncharacteristically seemed to have run out of words, his green eyes focusing back onto Haru's blue ones. They were right within arm's reach of each other, just as they always appeared to be, so Haru could do nothing but question his ravenous desire to be even closer.

Relief tickled at the knot in his core when Makoto's ringtone shook them both awake from their momentary stupor, and he took the opportunity to hoist himself up onto his elbows as Makoto brought his cell phone to his ear with a surprised and breathless moshi moshi?

It had been Makoto's mother calling, asking a small favor of him, if he wouldn't mind stopping by the market for a few groceries on his way home.

"Mmm, hai," he had answered kindly, looking out the window sleepily as he took note of what his mother needed and wrapped up the phone call. Haru had stood up to stretch his limbs long, and ended up following Makoto's gaze outside to the fading vibrancy of the late spring sky, realizing just how quickly the day had slipped away.

And Haru accepted Makoto's invitation to accompany him down to the market for his errand.

And he felt a tingling sensation that was now all too familiar steal over him when Makoto reminded him to wear a light coat.

And when Makoto waited patiently by his side as he closed the front door behind them.

And as they simply headed down the weathered staircases in the direction of the sunset.

The small seaport town came to a hush all around them as they found their way to the entrance of the Tachibana household with bags of groceries in hand, the hazy warm light from indoors ricocheting off the dark that they had walked through comfortably and silently.

And Haru was prepared to continue on alone in the thick darkness back to his empty home whether he truly wanted to or not, until Makoto's twin siblings, Ren and Ran, greeted them with the pitter-patter of their feet down the hallway and a lively okaeri!, Makoto's mother right behind them echoing okaeri in a sing-song voice, looking rather exhausted, taking the groceries with thanks.

"Get comfortable, boys, dinner should be ready fairly soon," Makoto's mother said casually, the twins agreeing to this with enough enthusiasm for days. Makoto took off his coat and shoes while playfully telling his brother and sister to calm down, and turned to Haru with an airy laugh, one hand resting bashfully at the back of his neck. Haru stopped breathing and tried not to die.

Wanna stay for dinner? Makoto seemed to ask, communicating wordlessly as he often times did, placing both hands in his pant pockets while rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Ren and Ran tore back down the hallway in route to the television, already expecting the boys to join them for as many rounds of video games as possible before the meal would be ready.

Haru managed to find his breathing again and responded by removing his own coat and shoes while the very embodiment of kindness itself smiled at his decision to stay. He slid into a pair of slippers and followed Makoto into the home that never failed to make him feel safe and sheltered, looking as nonchalant as ever while the clawing in his chest and whirling in his head cheerfully informed him that he was beyond screwed.


MakoHaru is like the reason I take breaths it's getting kind of ridiculous. I have the next chapter pretty much written and ready; would anyone be interested in a continuation...?

Thank you for reading! Great to meet you!