Full and by ~ Sailing into the wind (by), so as to make sure the sails are kept full. Figuratively it implies getting on with the job in a steady way.
Makoto dons boxer-briefs and cargo shorts in front of the dresser beside his tatami-mat bed, futon still unmade from the previous evening's sleepover with their Iwatobi friends. He looks for a favorite shirt, then glances at Haru, who wears it. Smiling at the habit, he throws on a green tee, grabs a required text and lays down, trying to read. It's useless. His mind is focused on the figure setting chopsticks and napkins on the low table in front of him.
"I should be doing that," Makoto says, looking at Haru. "You're tired."
"You'll clean up, ne?"
Makoto nods, continuing to watch his best friend return to the kitchen. It's always been like this, he thinks. Their care of one another exists in equal measure, though Haru's efforts often go unnoticed because his expression remains neutral and his gestures are subtle, known only to those who experience his kindness. His memory for things important to others is uncanny, his efforts to keep relationships on an even keel kept quiet by choice. Haru doesn't make a big deal of the things he does for others because, to him, they're simply a part of being a friend, like when he suggested filling the pool with cherry blossom petals to surprise Rin back in high school.
Rin. The ginger's face comes to mind. They really have come a long way since elementary school. Makoto sighs, recalling with regret his envy of Rin's ability to match pace with Haru in the pool. Back then, he thought swimming was the only way he could share the airy world of high speed competition. Sure, he'd been scouted, too, but the small schools interested in him didn't have the program he wanted. He's glad, now, that he's chosen to work behind the scenes; glad he can remain close to Haru as they continue developing their careers without a rivalry that can either strengthen or tear a friendship apart. He doesn't know what will happen between Haru and Rin, but he'll do his best to keep things positive.
Their careers, especially Haru's career and the careers of others like him, will be his top consideration as a potential professional trainer. And when it comes to Haru, there's no room for distractions like… like what? Sex? Romance? Love? All of it, Makoto thinks, returning his focus to his book, except the kanji makes no sense. He lets the small volume fall open across his face.
"What are you overthinking now?" Haru says.
Makoto peeks over the top of the novel and sees plates laden with steaming food being set down. Haru takes his place on the floor cushion opposite Makoto, who pushes the thought of ravishing Haru aside before slipping down to the floor. Even dressed down, with unruly hair, wearing Makoto's oversized shirt and sweatpants, Makoto thinks him beautiful. No. He can't think like that. Even if Rin thinks they're already a couple, they're not. They're friends. Best friends and that's all they will ever be.
"Smells good," he says, revealing nothing of his inner turmoil.
"I don't like leftovers, but the seasoning was excellent so I pan-fried the mackerel and added a bit of mayonnaise to spice up the flavor."
Their simple blessing includes the food, those who provided it and those who made the wares used to prepare and serve it. Makoto mixes the fish with the rice and takes a bite. "You're amazing. This is even better than when I served it to the group, but it's Haru's cooking that's improved it."
"Thanks, but you're cooking is just fine since coming to Tokyo."
Makoto smiles. "It was either that, go broke buying take out or starve. But thank you just the same, Haru-chan." Haru scowls. "At least I don't use 'chan' when we're with other people."
"I wish you didn't at all."
"You'll always be Haru-chan to me." Haru looks as if he's about to say something, then goes back to eating his meal. There's no point in arguing what they both know to be true. No matter what Haru says, he doesn't really mind the pet name, its use a verbal reminder of a history spanning years. They continue their meal, Makoto sharing news the Iwatobi crew brought from home, simple neighborly items of interest that feel both familiar, yet distant.
"Where are they anyway?" Haru says.
"Sightseeing. They wanted to visit Harajuku Street and Akihabara, but they'll be at the meet tomorrow."
"We really should be with them instead of going to that party tomorrow night."
"We can celebrate with them until their train leaves or bring them along, if they can stay. I'm sure the girls won't mind."
"Maybe I do."
Makoto chuckles. "You do realize that if you go global, you're going to have to get used to talking to lots of different people."
"I'll deal with that when the time comes."
"I'm just glad we have some quiet time now though you must be pretty tired, huh?"
"I'd still like to play Animal Crossing, if you're up to it."
"If I'm up to it? You're the one who has a big race tomorrow."
"I'll be fine."
"You sound confident. I'm glad."
Haru sets down his chopsticks and places both hands on the table. "I'll swim on the global stage. That's certain. This year or the next, or whenever, and it will be on my terms no matter what Ryuuji says."
Makoto is taken aback by the speech. "What did he say?"
"He said if I wanted to swim at that level, I have to focus on only that and nothing else."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I need to give up what I consider important and that's not happening."
"Like…what?"
"You mean who." Haru refuses to meet Makoto's gaze.
Makoto's brow wrinkles in confusion, then startle. His mouth drops open, then closes, his cheeks coloring. "Me?" he says in a soft voice.
Haru nods. "Actually, all of my friends, but especially you."
"But why? Am I too distracting? 'Cause if I am, I'll stop coming to your practices. I don't want to be a burden to you, Haru. That's the last thing—"
"Stop!" Haru looks directly into Makoto's eyes and says this with such certainty, Makoto is silenced. "Don't even suggest changing who you are, especially for my sake."
"Haru," Makoto trails off, not knowing how to respond. "Maybe I could wait for you outside or shadow your trainers. That would be helpful to me now."
Haru's expression is its usual placid self once more. "I know you talked about changing your career path today. It made me happy. Even Rin thinks it's a good idea and he knows what being a pro trainer takes more than I do. Knowing that the two of you will be sharing that world with me gives me confidence. I know we'll both work with you, one day."
Makoto hears the subtle emphasis Haru puts on the final two words. "But not now, ne?"
"Ryuuji says he has people in mind for me. He says they're experienced."
"I see." Makoto doesn't seem upset, but he unwinds to a standing position and begins clearing the table in silence.
Haru struggles to find a way to ease the disappointment he knows lay just beneath the deliberate calm Makoto presents, but having said what he thinks important, he lets the rest go. Pushing the table away from the futon, he sets up Makoto's laptop and the wireless controllers.
They brush their teeth and grab water bottles before settling beside one another on the futon, Haru sitting cross legged with Makoto sitting forward. The game resumes where they left off and they fall into a familiar routine and yet, something is different. The music for the level they're on is one of ocean waves and it reminds Makoto of Iwatobi just as the harbor did earlier. It soothes him. He usually chats about the game as he plays, a way of thinking out loud, while Haru adds his own strategy suggestions. Tonight, however, Haru is quiet. Too quiet, even for Haru.
Makoto turns his head and sees Haru watching, not the game, but him. Actually, Haru is gazing at his mouth with a look in his eyes that tells Makoto that Haru is listening but thinking about something else altogether.
"Haru?" Makoto says, turning back to the game. "What's going on with you?"
When Haru doesn't answer, Makoto turns his head once more and notes that Haru's eyes hold a fondness he rarely shows these days. He likes that, so he smiles and the fondness deepens. At this point, the game is forgotten, controller still in hands, dropped into his lap. Makoto hasn't seen this side of Haru in a long time. Tokyo, schooling and practice have absorbed them both and they haven't spent as much time together as they used to do. But here, now, with last night's shared memories with old friends still with him, Makoto feels the way he used to whenever he and Haru were together. His pulse quickens and he wrestles with ignoring his thoughts or sharing them.
He's risked baring his heart before and been shut down. Painfully, definitely. But this isn't Iwatobi, they aren't kids anymore and there's nobody to interrupt them because the door is locked and only he and Haru have keys. And he's tired, so tired of pretending he's okay with being just friends when every molecule in his body wants, wants, wants the person beside him. Wants to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him and make him feel good. Wants to run his hands over every cut line of his beautiful body and tell him how much he adores him.
And then Makoto has a realization. Sitting there, he realizes his eyes have been caressing that body and that every thought, every emotion, has been said without being said. Looking back into Haru's eyes, he knows he can't deny it. Any of it. He drops his head with a small groan. "Sorry," he murmurs. He turns back in place, tries to resume his game.
"Makoto," Haru says in quiet voice. "Look at me." Makoto shakes his head. "Please?" Haru reaches over, placing his hand over the controller in Makoto's hands to quiet them, then tugs. Makoto allows the unit to be taken and set aside as Haru moves until he's on the floor, kneeling between Makoto's legs, trying to look up into his face. "Are you trying to make this difficult? Because it's working."
Makoto lifts his face at that and sits upright, without looking at Haru, prepared to be told it's okay, just don't let it happen again. Instead, Haru moves in closer, his abdomen just shy of nestling against Makoto's crotch, his arms resting on Makoto's thighs. Makoto forces himself to breathe normally, to think nothing.
"I'm the one who should apologize. To you," Haru says. Makoto's eyes widen but as he opens his mouth to protest, Haru continues. "I do love being in the water and swimming without rules or clocks or training schedules, but I also love winning and you can't have one without the other. You can't have it both ways."
Makoto's shrugs. "So?"
Haru leans in further, his arms at Makoto's hips. "I've tried to play it both ways with you, too." Makoto looks at Haru, not knowing whether to be worried or hopeful. "I'm not good with words, like you. But there are things we've said to one another I know neither of us will ever forget."
"We've both said and done things we regret. We make up. We always do."
Haru's tone becomes agitated. "That's just it. We patch things up but we never get to the root of the problem."
Ah, Makoto thinks. Here's where Haru sets things straight. Sets me straight. Again. He pushes away from Haru until his back hits the wall, knees drawn up, feeling weirdly detached, as if watching things from a distance. Has it always been this way between them? This endless game of hide and seek with Haru always hiding and himself always seeking? He regards the boy, now a young man, kneeling before him and he simply huffs, "huh."
Haru looks confused. "W-what?"
Makoto is serious when he says, "I've been thinking about what Rin said today and I think he may be right. You really can be a prima donna."
"Hey." Haru is irked.
Makoto tilts his head to one side. "Oh. Am I not allowed to call you on your faults like Rin does? Or am I just supposed to be your lapdog, at your beck and call, your real life Mako?" He emphasizes the name just like Rin did that afternoon.
The startle in Haru's face is priceless and while it hurts Makoto to see it, he also feels a subtle satisfaction creep into his psyche. It's not like him, but living in the city on his own has helped him develop a sense of self-preservation and a reality check about the world. Without realizing it, he's been growing up, becoming his own man.
It's time.
"Makoto, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"
Makoto relents, unable to continue without feeling guilty for the rest of his life. His gentle smile returns, but with a new sense of control about the situation. "I'm still me, Haru, but I'm not exactly the same person I was even a few months ago. Neither are you. And that's as it should be. I'm not even sure why we're apologizing to one another when we're not guilty of anything except being friends who care about one another."
Haru stands, walks across the room to look out a window at the street below where the moths still flutter beneath the streetlight. "Is that all we are now?"
Makoto hears the sorrow in his voice. He looks at the figure of the boy he's known since childhood, the boy he's played games with, followed on adventures, did homework and studied with, the one who saved his life and who he's encouraged every step of the way in his quest for a dream. And, of course, the one who he slowly but surely realized he loved and told before he even knew what the words meant and again, when he did, before locking those feelings away because he was asked to do so. And now, now when he loves him still, ready to take on the world for his sake or keep those feelings ever kept at bay if that's what he needs, Makoto finally asks the question he's wanted to ask for so many years.
"What do you want from me, Haru?"
End – Chapter 4 - Full and By
Cabotage
Author's Notes: I know you're hoping for some sort of consummation with this chapter, but as it unfolded, it began to top 5k so I've split it into two parts, calling this Chapter 4. Chapter 5 to be posted by Sunday evening. I promised the boys and I promise you, my readers – you will like it. Yes. You will.
