When Haru regained consciousness, he didn't know where he was. Panic streaked through him and he sat up, blinking furiously until his eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lighting. Everything around him was so white and sterile looking and the room didn't have any kind of scent to it. The bed he was lying in was covered in crisp white sheets and it was far too big for him. He felt like he was floating. He suddenly became aware of the bandage around his head, the stiff cast on his right wrist and the tube sticking out of his left arm.

A nurse entered, pressing him back down on the bed. She had a kind, round face and she told him in a calm voice that he was alright. He was in hospital and he'd been unconscious for a few hours. He was perfectly fine and he was in a safe place. They were trying to contact his Uncle, but the stubborn man didn't seem to be answering his phone. Haru wasn't sure if he wanted his perpetually drunken Uncle sitting beside his hospital bed. In a groggy voice, he asked the nurse as she was about to leave, "Where are my parents?" He was reluctant to use his voice but he wanted to know.

The nurse shook her head silently, closing the door behind her. Through the frosted glass, Haru could make out the shapes of two people talking. He could hear the muffled conversation, but the wall was too thick and he was too tired to decipher any individual words. The nurse held the door open while another woman entered the room. She was wearing a grey blazer and skirt and she had friendly eyes just like the nurse had. Haru didn't know if he could trust any of these people. It might have only been their outward appearances that were friendly. But for now, he didn't seem to have a choice.

She introduced herself but Haru made no move to acknowledge her. "How are you feeling, Haru?" the woman asked him, pulling up the uncomfortable looking chair and sitting beside his bed. Her hands clasped in her lap and she studied Haru carefully, her lips pursed and the corners of her eyes tight. She tried to maintain her friendly aura, but as Haru refused to reply, it became obvious that she was here for another reason. "Haru, I'm going to ask you a few questions and I need you to answer them truthfully, is that alright?" She'd taken on a mildly condescending tone and it bugged Haru.

"Yeah, that's fine," he replied in a clipped tone, making no effort to hide his irritation. He still had no idea who she was and what she wanted with him. That alone was daunting and made him stiffen up with tension. He didn't like not knowing people's intentions.

"Have your parents ever hit you?" Straight to the serious questions. Her face was blank but her eyes betrayed her. Even without asking Haru, it was clear that she already knew the answer. Haru suddenly realised where his parents were.

"Yes," he replied in a tight tone. "A lot, actually." That was all he could give her. If he went into much more detail, he worried he might burst into incoherent tears. She nodded her head slowly and scribbled something down on the clipboard Haru hadn't even noticed she'd been carrying. Ah, now it all made sense. He knew who she was.

"Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?" she asked him, keeping her voice level. She looked slightly concerned now, as if she was worried she might push him over the edge. He knew he was sort of fragile but this woman didn't know his boundaries. Only he knew his limits and for now he felt fine.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice slightly strangled. Well, maybe he didn't exactly know his limits. He thought he was fine but apparently he was feeling more emotional than he realised. His eyes began to tear up and he thought of Makoto. He wanted to hug Makoto and be soothed by him until he stopped crying. But Makoto wasn't here and he wasn't listed as a next of kin so he wouldn't be called in unless Haru asked for him.

"Can you...do me a favour?" Haru asked suddenly, his eyes bright and alert. His gaze met the woman's and he saw that she looked a little apprehensive. She agreed that she'd try to help him out, depending on what the favour was. "My Uncle won't answer the phone," Haru told her, "and I don't want him here anyway. But I do have a friend. I can give you his email address. If you could tell him I'm here, that would...make me really..." He didn't want to finish that sentence. What would it make him? Happy? Maybe. At the very least, he guessed it would make him slightly less miserable.

The woman nodded faintly and wrote down the email address as Haru told it to her. He was lucky it was an easy enough address to remember. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. The nurse had said he'd been out of it for a few hours, but his body seemed to have decided he was in need of more rest. He drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of a needle being jabbed in his arm at one point.

Haru's eyes opened slowly and he was met by the same glaring, almost hostile light. He felt disorientated and his body felt heavy. He sat up and looked around, surprised to see a figure hunched over in the chair beside his bed. They seemed to be asleep and it took him a moment to comprehend that it wasn't the same social worker from earlier. He lightly touched the man's shoulder to shake him awake.

"Makoto," Haru whispered, shaking him gently. His voice was thick with sleep and his mouth was dry but he was burning with a sense of gladness that Makoto was actually here. "Makoto, wake up." With a start, Makoto sat up and frowned as his eyes focussed on Haru.

"Haru!" Makoto exclaimed, his face lighting up. "You're finally awake!" Haru rolled his eyes. The same could be said for Makoto. Almost reflexively, he slipped his hand into Makoto's, who only squeezed it in response and smiled at him. There was a slight tug on the drip in his arm, but it didn't hurt and it didn't feel like it was going to pull out so that was fine. "I'm so glad you're ok," Makoto went on. "I got an email from the hospital staff and it woke me up and I freaked out. I got here as soon as I could. I was really worried."

Makoto had been worrying about him. Emotionally, Haru felt on the verge of tears but his body didn't react in the same way. "Makoto, you make me really happy," Haru confessed before he could regain his senses. Immediately, he pulled his hand away and covered his blazing face. The bed was too hard for him to sink through the bottom of it and hide. The words could have seemed innocent enough. Friends made each other happy, right? But that wasn't how Haru had meant it. From his young perspective, it was horrifyingly embarrassing, maybe even a little wrong, so he'd never admit it in that way.

"Thank you," Makoto said quietly, ruffling Haru's hair. Maybe he'd known all along that Haru was oddly attached to him. Did it bother him? He didn't act like it did. It was clear that he didn't return the feelings on the same level, but it made Haru feel better to at least know that Makoto did care about him. If he didn't, why would he have come to the hospital? There were so many questions that Haru would never ask, and therefore he'd never have the answers to, but he tried not to let it bother him. He was just glad that Makoto was there for him.