A/N: Happy New Year! I hope you all had a great time and I wish you all the best for 2016!
On that note, I'm so sorry this took so incredibly long. I've set multiple deadlines for myself, all of which I obviously didn't make. These chapters just take me a little while longer. Therefore I hope you'll enjoy this, and I hope it's been worth the wait. Even though I always try to update as quickly as possible, there's a possibility that the next chapter will take as long as this one has. However, just because it hasn't been updated in a while doesn't mean that it's not going to continue. I have no intention of dropping this fic. Thank you all for your patience and understanding.
Same disclaimer as always; I'm not an expert on any of this at all, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or things are exaggerated for the sake of drama.
TW: Mentions of blood. Vomit. Anxiety attack.
Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
Haruka hadn't been able to go back to sleep after his nightmare. He just kept on crying and crying, like it was all he knew how to do. Every time his sobs seemed to die out an image of Makoto's extremely peaceful face shot through his mind, which was enough to start the waterworks all over again. Eyes that were too far closed, unnaturally so. Lips that were tightly sewn together, never to be parted again. Skin that was too cold, covered in a layer of make-up, serving in order to make the body of the deceased look more alive, yet it only made him look more artificial, more puppet-like. A still chest, neither moving with breath nor thrumming with heartbeat. But worst of all was that voice, that beautiful voice that kept taunting him with whispers of farewell; that hadn't been part of the dream, but rather something his conscious mind created to break him apart even further. And in that it was succeeding.
At one point during the night he had let himself fall to his side, curled up in a fetal position with his hands in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he hiccupped. The grip on his raven locks was tight, painfully so, almost hard enough to rip them out of his head. Somewhere along the way he had convinced himself that the physical pain would overshadow the mental and emotional ache he felt, but that wasn't true; his chest was burning with so much hurt that he almost didn't even notice the pull on his hair, yet he couldn't seem to stop. He felt like he was going crazy, and he thought that this was the only thing keeping him from insanity.
It's not real. It's not real. He repeated those words over and over in his head, but the voice inside his mind was drowned out by all the agony. It's not real.
Months ago he hadn't even considered the possibility of Makoto getting sick, and now it had become reality with death as an option, and there was nothing he could do to cure him. Losing him had always been his biggest fear, even if it hadn't been an active fright until it recently became an inevitable concern. He felt like he could overcome anything, shoulder everything the world threw upon him, bear anything but losing him. He needed Makoto more than he ever could've imagined, and just the thought of him passing away was enough to drive Haruka mad.
The night dragged on like this, the sound of his ragged breath and harsh whimpers filling up the room. He felt so small and lonely, like a child that had been forsaken by its mother. He needed Makoto so much, missed him so much he felt like he was the one who was dying.
By the time his teardrops had dried out, the sun was shyly peeking above the horizon. He had cried until he had no tears left and his throat was raw and scratchy. His alarm clock had started to ring, but the noise didn't quite reach his ears.
It wasn't until the light of the sun had entered his room completely that something in the back of his mind reminded him that he needed to get up. He then noticed the blaring of the alarm, but he couldn't muster up the strength to reach out and turn it off.
He contemplated ignoring it and just staying in bed all day, but then he remembered the promise he made to Makoto. He had school today, and he had promised Makoto that he would go there even if the other wasn't with him. Even if he really didn't feel like going - or doing anything beside lying here miserably for that matter - he had to go; if he didn't go then not only he, but Makoto too would miss a day's worth of notes and homework. It wasn't that he cared about his education all that much - if he were to be completely honest he couldn't give a damn about it at that moment, he had more important things to worry about - but he knew that Makoto did care, and he couldn't let Makoto suffer because of the fact that he was being irresponsible.
With just a little more hesitation in his being, he decided to do what he was supposed to. He sighed and untangled the jumble of his limbs before pushing himself off the mattress rather rapidly. He immediately realised that that had been a bad idea; he was hit with an incredible headache. His hand shot up to his forehead, supporting it in hope that would relieve some of the pain. The attempt was futile though, since it did absolutely nothing to ease the intense ache, and the alarm clock that was still ringing loudly on his nightstand didn't help either.
He turned it off then, and when he saw what time it was, he realised that he was already running late. Gathering himself - or what remained of him - Haruka finally lifted himself off the bed, though it took a great deal of effort, both physically and mentally.
Dragging himself out of the room, he headed towards the bathroom. Even if he didn't have time for a bath anymore, he still felt the need to freshen up a bit - he felt as if his face was a mess, just like his mind. His suspicions were confirmed when he looked inside the mirror that was placed above the sink; his hair was dishevelled, bags hung under his red and swollen eyes, there were tear marks all over his face, and even his mouth and nose looked puffy. In conclusion, he looked about as bad and miserable as he felt.
Haruka turned on the faucet, splashing some of the cold water into his face in hopes of making himself look a bit more presentable and not as if he had spent the entire night crying instead of sleeping. It was useless, and after a few attempts of flattening out his raven locks, he completely gave up. It was only draining him of the little energy he had left.
After brushing his teeth quickly, he threw on his uniform before grabbing his bag and making his way downstairs. He didn't have time to prepare himself a meal. Usually he would've been annoyed to have missed both his morning soak and his mackerel, but he didn't even care then. He felt like he was numb; like he had let his emotions run so wild earlier that he had none left. He didn't even care anymore. Besides, he didn't have much of an appetite any way.
He did get himself some aspirin for his headache, gulping it down with a lot of water when the pill got stuck in his hoarse throat. Then he put the used glass back on the counter, going to the genkan to put on his shoes before leaving his house, sluggishly heading to school.
When he arrived at school he was already more than half an hour late. He slid the door of his classroom open and everyone turned their heads towards him, including the teacher. Haruka quietly made his way to his seat, not explaining his tardiness whatsoever. Usually he would have been reprimanded by the teacher immediately, forced to tell why he was late and lectured on how punctuality was the key to succeed in life. When he would get to his seat, the students surrounding him would ask him questions and throw witty comments at his head. None of that happened, luckily. Ever since it had changed from Haruka and Makoto to just Haruka, it seemed like there was some sort of unspoken agreement that everyone had to leave him alone. Nowadays, everyone just left him to himself, and honestly he was grateful for it. It wasn't as if he was previously continuously bothered or anything, but there were always people who tried to chat with him. He didn't have any energy to waste on awkward banter with people he didn't care about, so this was all the better for him. The fact that he now looked as if he were hit by a bus probably did miracles to silence classmates as well.
The teacher cleared his throat to gather the attention back towards himself, and he went on with his explanation. Slowly everyone returned their focus to the lesson, and Haruka searched his bag for his notebook and other needed supplies.
The rest of his time at school continued just as horribly; Haruka was so tired he wasn't really able to pay attention to the lectures, let alone take proper notes. It was normal to be fatigued after skipping a night's worth of rest, but the fact that he spent the precious hours of the night crying his eyes out was enough reason as to why he was now utterly exhausted. He even almost fell asleep a couple of times; though every time it happened he was awoken quickly by his own imagination. When his eyelids would grow heavier and closed for just a little too long, the face that made up both his dreams and his nightmares flashed through his thoughts again, startling him awake with an electrifying pang. Never in his life had he expected that attractive face he loved so much to haunt him; both when he was conscious and not, during the day and at nighttime.
When lunchtime rolled around his stomach started to protest, which reminded him of the fact that he had skipped breakfast and hadn't made lunch. The last thing he wanted was to get up from his seat and go to the cafeteria to buy something and honestly, in contrast with the fatigue and terror, the hunger was more a background noise.
Therefore he was more than glad when the school's bell finally chimed, setting him free for the day. He grabbed his things and stuffed them inside his bag as quickly as his tired body could manage, leaving the classroom before anyone else.
Though he would normally crave nothing but his bed whilst being this weary, right now he wanted to be at the place he longed for since he had woken up that night as fast as possible. He knew he wouldn't be able to rest before he was there; by Makoto's side.
His hazy mind was so clouded over with sleep that he hadn't realised he had arrived at the hospital until he was standing in front of Makoto's room, seemingly having gotten here entirely by muscle memory.
He lifted his hands to his eyes, trying to rub some of the sleepiness away before he entered the room. Even if he didn't know what kind of state Makoto would be in today, he didn't want Makoto to notice that his night had been absolute hell. He pushed the door open, unconsciously holding his breath as if this were the first time he was facing this reality - though, in a way, it was. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was still so irrationally afraid that instead of his Makoto, he would find the corpse lying in the large bed.
He stepped inside the room, halting in the door opening. The hospital bed was laid out horizontally and Makoto's large back was facing the door, the boy in question seemingly asleep.
He was frozen on the spot, watching Makoto with bated breath. When Makoto's back moved as his lungs filled with air, Haruka sighed with so much relief, releasing some of the tension in his worn out being along with the breath he hadn't yet realised he had been holding.
Haruka walked further into the room, closing the door behind him. He headed towards his usual spot - one of the seats between the bed and the window - but instead of sitting down, he remained standing, glancing over Makoto's sleeping form.
Makoto's eyes were fluttered shut, his lips slightly parted and puffs of air escaped between them. His body rested in the same position it usually did; on his side, legs slightly pulled up, his left hand lying just below his head on the pillow, palm turned upwards. His right arm was draped over his midsection, the duvet half covering it. The familiarity of the sight before him brought a warm, reassuring kind of comfort to Haruka's frightened heart.
Yet he couldn't help but want to confirm that everything was okay, that this was real. He leaned down slightly, reaching out his arm and he gently placed his hand on Makoto's soft cheek. Warmth. Instead of a cold, icy sensation, feelings of warmth crawled via his arm through his entire body, starting at the place where the feather-light touch connected their skin. Haruka softly stroked Makoto's cheek with his thumb, just like he had before, this time feeling suppleness instead of stiffness.
He retreated his hand then, his right one coming down to Makoto's hand. He lightly cradled his wrist, his fingers searching for that one spot that would tell him he was alright. Just beside Makoto's veins he found it, feeling his slow, frequent heartbeat thrumming against his fingertip. He released Makoto's wrist, moving his hand just a little so it was held just in front of Makoto's mouth. Small, cool puffs hit his skin as Makoto exhaled, making Haruka smile inwardly.
He stood back straight then, feeling more soothed and happy than he had in a while. After being somewhat afraid that his dream would become reality for the entire day, he was now overflowing with relief. Just the sight and the feeling of his best friend being alive was able to do that for him nowadays.
If there was anything Haruka had learned these past few weeks, it was that things are often taken for granted. He had always taken Makoto's presence for granted, not thinking twice about his place in Haruka's life. Now that he had felt what it was like when that was taken away from him, he was able to appreciate Makoto's existence more, as he definitely didn't want to experience it for real, for good.
Haruka had to bite his lip in order to prevent himself from tearing up. Normally he would have been annoyed with himself; getting all emotional over something so small and insignificant. But he now knew that this was anything but small, anything but insignificant. Though he would have preferred that this realisation had dawned upon him under different circumstances.
He grabbed Makoto's right hand, giving it a soft squeeze. It was his way of trying to communicate his feelings, even if the other wasn't conscious at that moment. After lightly caressing Makoto's knuckles for a while, he released his hand and grabbed the duvet, pulling it further over Makoto's body. Once it was wrapped around Makoto's shoulder, only leaving his face and neck free, Haruka sat down in the chair next to the bed, watching over the tranquility of his friend's sleeping figure with ease and comfort in his mind and in his heart.
The serenity of the moment was enough to make Haruka stop fighting the fatigue that was continuing to wash over his being and he gave into it. Slowly his eyes slipped close, and the last thing he saw was Makoto's face before he joined the other in the land of dreams.
The feeling of long, slender fingers carding through his raven locks and trimmed nails gently running over his scalp was what Haruka woke up to. His eyes blinked open, and he lifted his head a bit to look drowsily around himself, his sleep-induced mind not fully being able to comprehend where he was. Makoto's smiling face slowly came inside his field of vision, which made him notice the weight of Makoto's large palm resting on top of his head.
''Good morning, Haru-chan.''
Hearing Makoto utter those familiar words he hadn't heard in what felt like centuries reminded him of what was going on. He was still seated in the chair, but was now leaning over with his arms on the bed, his head resting upon his limbs. The top half of the bed was lifted, Makoto now sitting up with his back supported by the mattress instead of asleep. His left arm was stretched out a bit so he was able to pet Haruka's hair, tangling his fingers in the soft strands.
Haruka pulled one of his arms up and raised his fist to rub away some of the sleep in his eyes. The minute he did that, Makoto jerked his hand away as if he had been burned and a pink hue lit up his pale face.
''I'm sorry, Haru! I don't know why I did that- I-I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry!'' he stuttered, the tinge adorning his face growing darker with every syllable that left his lips.
Thin eyebrows frowned, a look of confusion settling on Haruka's face. At first he didn't understand what was wrong; he wasn't able to see what Makoto was apologising for due to his hazy state, but the fog inside his head started to clear not long after. Makoto had been caught brushing his fingers through Haruka's hair, which isn't considered normal. It wasn't appropriate behaviour between friends, the world had told them. Makoto was apologising because he had crossed the invisible boundary between friendship and something more, or so he seemed to believe. Something that supposedly is unacceptable.
But Haruka thought that wasn't completely true; there had never been a clear line that concluded the lengths of the bond between Makoto and him, and even if such a thing had existed, Haruka was sure that it had been crossed multiple times before.
Still, Haruka felt as if they shouldn't let society dictate their relationship. It didn't know them, could never understand what they were. As long as personal boundaries weren't crossed everything was fine, in his opinion. Though he couldn't deny that his opinion was probably biased by the underlying feelings of affection he had hidden deep within the walls of his heart.
''It's fine,'' he murmured. ''Feels nice,'' he added not just because it did, but also because he knew that Makoto would continue. And he was right.
Slowly, hesitantly almost, Makoto reached out his hand again, touching the ends of Haruka's black hair like he was afraid to get burned once more. Haruka let his eyes fall shut, resting his cheek on his arm again, knowing that if he relaxed his posture, Makoto would too. As Haruka softly in- and exhaled, he felt the hand on his scalp grow more confident, the tension of being caught red-handed leaving Makoto's body. Haruka was glad about that fact; there should be nothing but feelings of familiarity and comfort between them.
The room filled with silence as Makoto ran his hand gently through his best friend's hair, the innocent gesture soothing the both of them. Though it did feel really good, that wasn't the main reason Haruka had wanted Makoto to continue. He knew that Makoto missed the feeling of his fingers being buried between strands; he used to have a habit of running his fingers through his hair, and now he sometimes would raise his hand to his head before he remembered that he had lost it and dejectedly lowering his hand again. Seeing that happen broke Haruka's heart every single time, because an uncharacteristic pain would flash through Makoto's beautiful eyes, a sadness of being reminded that things weren't the same as they had been, that his life had changed.
Haruka hoped that threading his digits through his hair would somehow comfort Makoto, since comfort was about all he had to offer. He opened one of his eyes a bit, wanting to see if Makoto was just as content like this as he was. A soft, somewhat shy smile lit up Makoto's face, paired with a gentle gaze that was directed at Haruka, breathtaking green eyes slightly squeezed together in a look that could almost be described as fondness.
If Haruka were to be completely honest, he had mostly wanted this for himself. Selfish it may be, he needed this, this reassuring feeling of knowing, of sensing that Makoto was next to him. A sentiment that meant the world to him, a gesture that told him: 'It's okay, I'm here.' Haruka let that comfort him, heal him in the way only Makoto could. The treatment for the ache also the cause of it.
A moment of tranquility shared between two boys whose minds were anything but tranquil. Finding solace and strength within each other. Depending on each other. Loving each other. But most of all, needing each other in these dire times of angst and uncertainty. They knew that they had to keep fighting, both physically and mentally. They'd only had a taste of the storm that was ahead of them, and it was going to be tough to keep standing upright when bigger waves would crash down upon them. A choice wasn't something they had, so they could only support each other for all that was coming.
But for now, they let this calmness soothe them, comforted by the other's mere presence, desperately trying to forget everything even if only for a little while as Makoto's fingers continued to caress Haruka's head.
Days passed and Makoto's birthday got closer and closer. Now, on the sixteenth of November, Haruka was seated at his desk, finishing the last of the birthday drawings that the twins and he were making for Makoto. Over the course of the past few weeks he had made several pictures: of Ren, Ran, Mr. and Mrs. Tachibana, a few of the stray cats Makoto used to stop for and pet on the way to school - Haruka had always feigned annoyance at the other's need to express his love to every feline they encountered, but truly he found it adorable - and, on demand of the twins, one of himself.
It felt really weird and narcissistic to give a self-portrait to his best friend as a birthday present, but Ran and Ren had insisted that he had to draw himself as well; he had drawn their entire family for Makoto except for himself, and according to them, it would be incomplete without him. The fact that they thought of him as part of their family really meant a lot to Haruka, and he knew he couldn't deny their request anymore.
Due to the twins' reasoning, Haruka felt that he had to draw Makoto as well; he was a member of his own family, of course, and therefore it wouldn't be complete without him, either. However, he found himself stumbling upon a problem he had never faced before.
It wasn't as if he had never drawn Makoto before, quite the contrary actually. From small doodles in the corner of his notebook to extraordinarily detailed paintings, Makoto had often been the subject of Haruka's artistic side. Haruka loved to draw Makoto, though he was never quite able to capture every aspect of Makoto's exceptional beauty. His drawings never did Makoto justice, in his opinion. The other would probably disagree with him if he knew, but Haruka never let him know. Even though his image was permanently etched into countless of sketchbooks and pages, Haruka always kept them hidden from the other. He wasn't so much afraid that Makoto would be offended, since he always marvelled at Haruka's creativity, much due to his own lack of artistic skill. But he always respected Haruka's privacy, and only looked at and admired Haruka's drawings when Haruka showed them to him - albeit nonchalantly.
This time he had planned on drawing Makoto the same way he had drawn the others: a realistic portrait made entirely with grey pencils. Unlike with the others, Haruka didn't need a reference to draw him, and he could easily get started.
He was done before he knew it and Makoto's image was staring back at him from the paper it was marked upon, but something hadn't felt quite right. It wasn't as if something was wrong with the drawing itself - the proportions were fine, as well as the facial features; droopy eyes, strong jaw, trademark smile; it was all there. So what was wrong with it?
Haruka stared at the drawing for what seemed like forever before it finally hit him. Surely this was Makoto eternalised on the white sheet, but this wasn't Makoto right now. This wasn't how Makoto looked, this was how Makoto used to look. This Makoto was carefree, cheery, but most of all, healthy. Everything the real Makoto wasn't. Though Makoto may seem happy and optimistic, in reality it was a facade, and little more than that.
Feeling as if all of that wasn't an accurate representation of his best friend, Haruka put the drawing aside and decided to try again, now depicting Makoto as he really was.
After a while he put down his pencil, blowing pieces of eraser off the paper, careful not to smudge the lines. This drawing had taken significantly more attention and effort than the first one, as he had to constantly think about Makoto's current appearance, contrasting to the first one where he had just let his hand do all the work. He picked the drawing off his desk and held it out in front of himself, inspecting it closely.
Though the boy that was drawn on this paper was the same as the other, he looked quite different. Here, his face was a tad slimmer, his cheekbones a bit more prominent, but the largest contrast was definitely the missing of his eyebrows, lashes, and hair. His smile had changed too; from a genuine, joyous one to a more forced upturn of his lips.
This was a better portrayal of what Makoto looked like at present, but there was a certain harshness to this image. In a way, it was a grim reminder of the reality they were all facing, and looking at this drawing made Haruka sad. The last thing Haruka had intended for this drawing was for it to make anyone sad, so this drawing was wrong in its own way.
Haruka furrowed his brows and put the drawing back on his desk before grabbing the previous drawing he had made of Makoto, placing it beside the other. He studied the two drawings that lied in front of him. Both portraits were definitely of Makoto, however, seeing them side-by-side like this really showed how they differed. Like this, it looked as if they weren't portraits made of the same person.
The longer Haruka stared at the drawings, the more they hurt. Makoto had changed so much in just a few weeks, and though the most obvious change was very noticable, the smaller changes had gone more gradually, and he hadn't noticed them this much before seeing two images beside each other. His complexion was different, his face seemed thinner, and a certain gleam had disappeared from his eyes. Haruka bit his lip in order to keep his emotions at bay when he realised that this is what leukemia looked like; this is what cancer does. It's a devastating, merciless force that destroys everything upon its path slowly but oh so quickly.
Haruka pushed his chair away from the desk and got up, abandoning both illustrations on his desk as he made his way to his bathroom. He turned on the tap and took off his clothes, not waiting for the bath to be full before he stepped inside, ignoring the fact that the water was slightly too cold for his liking. When the bath was almost full he turned the tap off again, pulling his legs up to his chest and he rested his cheek against his knees, not minding the goosebumps on his skin.
The whole idea behind this action of making drawings for Makoto's birthday was to cheer aforementioned boy up, and though Haruka knew that all of Ran's, Ren's, and his other drawings were going to do just that, these last two were just not going to cut it. Those weren't going to make anyone happy, all they did was spread sadness, both in their own way. It was obvious he couldn't give either of the drawings to Makoto; not only would they ruin all of the effort Ran and Ren put into the surprise and their drawings, but they could also hurt Makoto like they hurt him, and Haruka didn't ever want to hurt Makoto. He was already suffering enough as it was, and Haruka could be damned if he were to worsen that by something that should do the opposite.
Haruka sighed as he let himself sink lower into the water, thinking about what he should do. He wanted to draw Makoto in a way that wasn't discouraging, to portray him how he really was, not what he looked like on the outside. Not that Makoto wasn't attractive or handsome - because he was -, but at present he looked small and weak, and that wasn't who Makoto really was. Makoto was strong, gentle but powerful, and Haruka wanted to show that side of Makoto on paper. Because Makoto was more than just this sickness. And although cancer was also strong, it wasn't invincible.
Then Haruka knew. He knew what he was going to draw.
And so he found himself sitting here at present, with just a few more hours to finish up the painting he had started just a couple of days ago until it would be Makoto's birthday. After he had decided what he was going to do he had dived head first into the idea, putting all of his time and effort into perfecting this image.
As he worked his mind often drifted back to shared afternoons in a quiet room, to fleeting glances, and meaningful smiles. He'd remember how good Makoto's fingers felt against his skull, how that caring touch soothed parts of his anxieties and fears, at least for then. Recalling that moment brought him strength, it comforted him whilst reminding him to keep his spirits up.
How Makoto's gentle caress slowly put him back to sleep, only for him to wake up a little while later because of hunger. Upon hearing Haruka's stomach rumble, Makoto even offered him half of his dinner. Makoto really was too kind for his own good.
Next to the drawings, other preparations had been made for Makoto's birthday as well. Before the illness, Makoto's birthday was always celebrated at the Tachibana residence with friends and family alike. Now it was going to be held at the hospital with a much smaller group, and the 'celebration' part was highly depending on how Makoto would be feeling. Nevertheless, everyone was trying their best to make this birthday extra special for him, because he really deserved it after everything he had gone through these past few weeks and all of what was still ahead of him.
Earlier today, Haruka had made the cake together with Mrs. Tachibana. Even if the chance was big that Makoto wouldn't have an appetite, they agreed that it wouldn't be complete without his favourite kind of cake. Ran and Ren kept sneaking around stealing strawberries and soon were banished from the kitchen. The twins were disappointed that they weren't allowed to 'help out', but were quickly silenced when they were promised that they could lick the chocolate remains from the bowl and spoon after they're finished.
After he left the hospital a few days ago, Haruka finally picked up Makoto's present. He had known what he wanted to give Makoto since he decided on the final piece, but hadn't found the time to actually go out and buy it. He ended up having to go to two different stores, as the first one he went to didn't have exactly what he was looking for. Luckily, the second one did have it, since Haruka wouldn't know where to go if they didn't have it either. He would've had to come up with a new gift idea, which wasn't something he wanted to do. So fortunately, it all worked out for him in the end.
Carefully Haruka applied the last stroke of the paintbrush onto the paper. Then, he put the brush aside and leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. After hours of working on this piece, of pouring his heart and soul into this gift, it was finally done. And honestly, he was quite proud of it. Not to be narcissistic or to toot his own horn, but it had turned out just how he hoped it would. It looked pretty good, in his humble opinion. Now he only hoped Makoto would like it, too.
He got up and raised his arms over his head. His back hurt from sitting hunched over for too long, and he put his hand on his nape to stretch out his neck. It was quite late already; he had been so invested in finishing this painting that he hadn't realised it was already past his usual bedtime. Only now did he notice how tired he actually was.
Letting out a small yawn, Haruka ran his hands over his face, trying to rub away some of the sleepiness with the tips of his fingers. He looked over his desk. If there was anything he didn't feel like doing right now, it was putting away this mess. He knew he didn't have a choice, though, since he hated a messy environment, and he didn't have time to clean up tomorrow.
So with a sigh he got to work, only leaving the drawing out so it could dry better.
The next morning, Haruka was heading over to the Tachibanas. They had told him to meet them at their house around half past ten, so they could all go to the hospital together. Before he left, he made sure he had gathered everything he needed to bring. Luckily, the painting he had barely finished on time had dried completely, so he could take it with him without having to be extremely cautious.
Makoto's family was already at their car when Haruka arrived in front of their house. He worried that he might have annoyed them by making them wait for too long, but the smiles that Makoto's parents gave him along with the excited yells of 'Haru-chan!' made him scrap that thought. He returned their greetings and stepped inside the car, sitting down next to the twins who were already buckled up. Putting the plastic bag he brought with him that contained his drawings and Makoto's present down at his feet, he reached for his seatbelt to fasten it. The twins were chattering excitedly like they usually did, and Haruka noticed that they were both holding a balloon in their lap; Ran a green one, Ren a blue one.
''To decorate,'' Ran simply explained when she noticed Haruka's gaze.
Haruka just nodded in response. Of course children wanted to decorate for their brother's birthday. It should have been obvious, really. He could already imagine how it went: the twins insisted on bringing balloons and other ornaments to brighten up the hospital room and make it more fitting for a celebration, but Mrs. Tachibana had told them that that would be too much. Though she couldn't completely deny them the fun, she offered this as a compromise. Makoto would probably appreciate the thought, too.
''Haru-chan, did you bring the drawings?'' Ran asked, interrupting his thought process.
''Hm,'' Haruka affirmed with a small hum.
''I hope Onii-chan will like my drawings...''
Before Haruka could even formulate a response to Ren's insecurity, Ran already exclaimed, ''Of course he will. Has Onii-chan ever not liked one of our drawings?''
''...No, I guess not.''
''There,'' Ran smirked as if she had just made an incredible statement.
Hesitant brown eyes sought blue ones, and Haruka curled the corners of his mouth slightly upwards as he nodded his confirmation. Ren turned his gaze back to the balloon in his lap, smiling softly to himself.
Then, Mr. and Mrs. Tachibana stepped inside the car, fastening their seatbelts.
''So, are we all buckled up and ready to leave?'' Mr. Tachibana asked, starting the car.
''Yes!'' the twins yelled in unison.
''Let's go then!''
The drive to the hospital didn't take too long, and soon enough they were standing in front of Makoto's room. On the way there the twins were given another version of the same lecture they always got before visiting Makoto. Now they were about to enter, they were briefly reminded to be quiet and behave, even if it was their brother's birthday. Almost offendedly, the twins huffed that they knew already.
When they got inside, they saw that Makoto was still asleep. Mrs. Tachibana pressed her forefinger against her lips and winked at Ran and Ren, who then mimicked her action. Quietly, they made their way to the bed and tied the strings of their balloons to either side of the foot end. After they were done, they turned back towards their mother.
''Can we wake him?'' they asked, their whispering still rather loud.
Mrs. Tachibana contemplated this, pressing her lips together in thought. For as long as the twins were able to walk and talk, they had woken their brother up on his birthday. It usually involved a lot of screaming and jumping on the bed, and that was definitely out of the question now. But besides that, there wasn't a reason as to why they couldn't, and Makoto wouldn't mind, either.
''Okay,'' she agreed, ''but do it gently.''
On the tips of their toes Ren and Ran walked over to the side of the bed Makoto was facing, leaning in a bit.
''Onii-chan,'' they called, ''Onii-chan, wake up!''
Makoto squeezed his already closed eyes even tighter shut, making a small noise in the back of his throat as he buried his face further into the pillow.
''Onii-chan!''
Slowly Makoto's eyes blinked open, revealing his green irises glazed over with sleep. As his mind began to clear and his vision started to focus, he saw the toothy grins of his younger siblings.
''Ran? Ren?'' he questioned drowsily.
''Happy birthday, Onii-chan!'' the children chanted simultaneously.
When he heard that phrase, Makoto looked around himself and was met with the smiling faces of his parents and the ever-stoic expression of his best friend, though there was a trace of an undeniable twinkle in his eyes.
Before the start of this miniature birthday party, they allowed Makoto to freshen up a bit in the small bathroom that was attached to his room. While he was washing up and brushing his teeth, his family made the last preparations for this small celebration. Mrs. Tachibana folded out the board of the bedside table and put the cake on top of it, sticking sixteen candles into the surface. Ran and Ren got their gifts out, Mr. Tachibana got his camera ready, and Haruka used the remote to lift the top half of the bed a little.
When Makoto emerged from the bathroom, he was surprised by hands covering his eyes, effectively shielding his vision.
''Haru?''
''Keep your eyes closed.''
Before he even had the opportunity to be confused by his friend's instruction, he felt small hands in his, pulling him forward. He was led back towards his bed, crawling back inside with Haruka's help. Once he was settled, he asked, ''Can I open them?''
''No, not yet!''
Mrs. Tachibana pulled out a box of matches and carefully lit the candles one by one. Then, she put the folded out part of the bedside table over the bed, so it hung a bit above Makoto's legs.
''Okay, open them.''
Makoto did as he was told, and he saw the cake with burning candles in front of him, his loved ones surrounding the bed.
Ran and Ren started to sing 'Happy Birthday' in loud, broken English, the others joining in albeit a bit softer. Makoto couldn't do anything but smile at his family and best friend.
When the song was finished, Makoto didn't even have the time to thank everyone before the twins excitedly yelled, ''Make a wish, Onii-chan!''
''Alright,'' he replied and he closed his eyes to think about something before opening them and taking a deep breath. Parting his lips slightly, he started to blow out the candles, but halfway through he choked on his breath and erupted in a fit of coughs, turning his face away from the cake with a couple of candles still ablaze.
His mother was at his side quickly enough, gently rubbing his back. Mr. Tachibana walked over to the faucet in the corner of the room and filled a glass with water, bringing it over to his son's side. The wax of the birthday candles was getting hotter and it began to melt. Not wanting it to drip on top of the cake, Haruka blew out the remainder of the candles.
Once Makoto's coughing had died out, tension hung in the room, joined by the smoke that came from the wicks.
''So... uh, what- what did you wish for, Onii-chan?'' Ren stuttered. The look on his face screamed uneasiness, like someone was holding a gun against his head and forced him to speak those words.
And just like that, the tension dissolved. They couldn't help but chuckle at the smallest Tachibana, and even Haruka couldn't help but snort at Ren's expression.
''If he were to tell you then it wouldn't come true, would it?'' Mr. Tachibana replied.
''Oh... right.'' Ren's cheeks flushed slightly at his mistake and a small pout formed on his lips.
''So, can we give him the presents now? Ran asked, successfully diverting the attention from her twin to herself.
''You don't want to have cake first?'' Mrs. Tachibana questioned, clearly surprised.
''No! Presents first,'' she insisted. ''Close your eyes, Onii-chan!''
Makoto pressed his palms against his face, knowing that just closing his eyes wouldn't be enough to satisfy his sister, despite her words. The girl in question nodded to her twin brother, who mirrored her action and did what he was silently told. She walked over to Haruka then, and she held out her hand. Knowing what she was requesting, Haruka pointed towards his bag. Ran walked over and reached into the bag, distracted by the size of Haruka's gift for a second before pulling out the papers.
''You're really eager, if you're willing to wait for the cake,'' Makoto remarked.
''No peeking!'' was all Ran shot back at him.
''Yes, yes.''
The twins put the gathered stacks on top of the bed before climbing on top of it, sitting down next to their brother's legs, Ren on the right side, Ran left. Reaching behind herself, Ran grabbed the stack that contained both her and Ren's drawings, and she put them on Makoto's lap.
''Okay, now you can look.''
Makoto lowered his hands and his gaze fell upon his lap. ''What's all this?'' he inquired as he grabbed the first paper.
''Drawings!''
''We made them!''
''You made so many?''
''Yup,'' Ran affirmed, her chest swelling with pride.
''We thought we could put them up so the walls won't be so dull and plain anymore,'' Ren explained.
''Ran... Ren...'' Makoto's mouth had fallen open, looking utterly speechless. He leaned forward and gathered them both in a hug, enveloping them with one arm each. The twins returned his hug, giggling when he pressed a kiss to their cheeks.
''Thank you,'' he said earnestly when he pulled away, a look of awe settling on his features.
''You haven't even seen them yet!'' Ran protested as she pushed the drawings further into Makoto's lap.
Instead of arguing, Makoto picked up the top drawing again, the rest of the family stepping closer to look at it as well.
The drawing showed five light brown spots: two large ones, one medium-sized, and two small ones. When he looked at them closely, Haruka could see that they were actually dogs; golden retrievers, to be specific. Next to one of the bigger dogs sat a small, black spot, that was supposed to resemble a cat.
''That one's mine,'' Ren stated. ''That's you, Onii-chan,'' he pointed at the large dog with bright green eyes. ''And that's Dad,'' he continued, now referring to the other big dog, this one having darker, brown eyes. ''And that's Mom. And that's Ran. And that's me.''
Mrs. Tachibana laughed, and she tapped her finger against the small cat. ''Is that Haru-kun?''
''Hm-mmh, can you tell?''
''Of course. Look at those eyes,'' she confirmed, drawing attention to the cat's deep blue eyes. ''And that face. That's definitely Haru-kun.''
Haruka, who had been focused mostly on Makoto's adoring expression, turned his gaze back to the drawing, specifically the cat.
Except for the eyes, the cat was all black, though despite that, its facial features were still clearly visible. Its eyelids were half covering the blue, its whiskers were long and straight, and a stoic, almost grumpy expression painted its face. Its ears were pointy and the tail was curled elegantly around its paws. It was quite detailed, especially for the work of a child. However, it looked absolutely nothing like Haruka.
''Ah, you're right,'' Mr. Tachibana cut in, ''It does look like Haru-kun!''
''It does not,'' Haruka objected.
''Let me see,'' Ran said as she took the drawing from Makoto and observed it more closely. ''Wow, it really looks like Haru-chan.''
Haruka turned his view to Makoto, mentally asking him for help and support. Instead of receiving that, Makoto's eyes and the smile he was trying to suppress told him that Makoto agreed with his family.
Displeased with the response, Haruka huffed and averted his gaze, a small pout forming on his lips. Haruka's reaction only made everyone laugh, and even Makoto couldn't help but chuckle a bit.
''Well then, let's take a look at the next one.'' Luckily, Makoto rescued him from the awkward situation, even if it was a bit later than when he'd preferred it. Ran put the drawing she was holding aside as Makoto held up the next drawing.
''I made that one, Onii-chan!'' she exclaimed cheerfully.
She had drawn four figures on a playground. On the left side of the paper was a blue swing set, both of the swings occupied. On the right swing sat a little girl with long, dark green hair who was wearing a frilly orange dress. Behind her stood a large, bulky man with a big smile and his arms outstretched. A slightly smaller man was seated on the other swing, his hands wrapped around the iron chains, and the faintest of smiles lit up his face, that was partially covered in his black locks. On the other side of the paper a red slide was drawn, a little boy sliding down it with his arms raised in the air. In the corner of the drawing was the sun, beaming its rays down upon the figures and laughing brightly. An enormous rainbow was the background of the scene.
Before anyone had time to comment on it, Ran began to blabber enthusiastically about the drawing, explaining who everyone was, where they were, what they were doing, et cetera. Makoto just listened, nodding along quietly with that fond look on his face and adding things when thought necessary.
This play repeated itself over and over with every new drawing. Somewhere along the way a nurse came in to bring Makoto his late breakfast, but Makoto decided that could wait until after the presents. After several more drawings, the stack ended.
''All of your drawings were beautiful,'' Makoto said genuinely, ''Thank you.''
''Wait, that wasn't all of them!''
''What? There's more?''
Ran and Ren nodded simultaneously, grabbing the stack that still rested behind them.
''But I thought you said-''
''Those were all of our drawings,'' Ran emphasized.
''These are Haru-chan's,'' Ren finished.
''Haru's?'' Makoto questioned, looking over at Haruka in surprise. Haruka just nodded in response, a small smile on his face.
Ran put the smaller stack that contained Haruka's pictures on Makoto's lap, the portraits all on top of the larger painting, covering it up successfully. Makoto's mouth fell open when he looked down and saw the drawing that lied on top.
''Haru...'' he sighed, completely astonished, as he picked up the portrait of his mother. ''You made this?''
''Hmm-mh,'' Haruka hummed.
''It's amazing!''
After that statement more and more compliments were shot in Haruka's direction. With every new portrait praises and expressions of awe were given, gradually colouring Haruka's cheeks a tinge darker due to all the attention as he murmured his thanks. Feeling as if he were put on the spot a bit, he turned his head away, yet he couldn't stop himself from peeking at Makoto from the corner of his eye, not wanting to miss any reaction his friend gave.
Soon they were down to the last drawing, the one that was barely finished on time and differed from all the other birthday illustrations. With wide eyes Makoto stared at the painting that lied on top of his legs.
''Haru... It's so... beautiful.''
The ocean was displayed in the drawing, different blues mending together to form the underwater image, almost coming to life on the paper. The sea was decorated with plants and small fish in all kinds of vivid colours. But in the mids of the rocks, seaweed, coral, clownfish, mackerels, and jellyfish swam the focal point, standing out against all of the other sealife and stealing away the attention: a great orca, entirely black and white except for its green eye, that held a kind spark.
Makoto looked up at Haruka, his own green eyes tearful, his chapped bottom lip caught between his teeth, and he spoke with a quivering voice, ''Thank you.''
To anyone else, this was nothing but a pretty-looking painting, but not to Makoto. Makoto understood what the underlying meaning of this painting was, what feelings Haruka tried to express with it. It seemingly pulled on his heartstrings.
Orcas are strong yet gentle. Orcas have the strength to fight; the power to defeat. Orcas are big and beautiful.
Makoto is an orca, Haruka thought.
''You're welcome,'' he said with a smile.
The air changed between them. For a moment, everyone else disappeared as their gazes held each other, creating a bubble around them that secluded their own world. Conveying their feelings and emotions through their eyes in that way only they could, until they were pulled out of their meaningful silence.
''Can we eat the cake now?'' Ren and Ran asked hopefully.
''Right now? We haven't even finished giving the presents yet,'' Mr. Tachibana objected.
''But we're hungry!'' they whined in response.
Makoto nodded at his parents as if to say, 'It's okay.'
''How about this,'' Mrs. Tachibana proposed, ''First we'll get lunch, then you can eat the cake as dessert.''
Though they'd rather skip lunch and eat the cake immediately, the twins agreed to this. Mr. and Mrs. Tachibana took them to the restaurant downstairs, asking Haruka if he was coming too. After politely declining, they promised to bring him something when they returned.
Haruka knew why they decided to leave for a moment. The second the twins were out of the room Makoto visibly slumped, leaning back into the mattress as his expression faltered. Makoto always tried to keep his demeanor up when the twins visited, even though it exhausted him to his very core. He didn't want the twins to get hurt of frightened by seeing him being as sick as he actually was. It was already hard enough on them that he had this illness that made him weak and helpless, and Makoto wanted to save them from any more of that pain. So he did whatever was in his might to let them believe, even if that wasn't always possible.
It wasn't like Haruka didn't understand it; he knew that if Makoto was able to, he would put up this demeanor in front of everyone, he just wasn't able to. He was barely able to keep it up for the twins. They only visited about once a week, but with all of their enthusiasm and energy they demanded all of Makoto's attention, and Makoto was unable to deny their requests. Surely his parents had noticed this too, which was why they decided to give him a little break.
Makoto was rubbing his face now, probably trying to wipe some of the fatigue away in order to make himself look at least a tad more presentable.
''You okay?'' Haruka asked when the heel of Makoto's hand kept pressing into his eye.
''Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine.'' Liar.
Haruka wanted to tell him that he didn't have to put up an act in front of him, but he was sure that saying this would only make Makoto pretend even more. And so he kept his mouth shut.
In the meanwhile Makoto's rubbing had stopped, and he was now back to silently admiring the drawings he had been gifted. For a second the light reappeared in those dull eyes of his.
''That reminds me, I haven't given you your present yet,'' Haruka stated. Seeing that light in Makoto's eyes was really double for him; it made it obvious that the twinkle of joy that used to be ever-present had left and that saddened him more than he could put into words, but on the other hand it was nice to see it return if only for a small moment. Despite this, Haruka wouldn't allow himself to dwell on these feelings. This was Makoto's special day after all, and Haruka wanted him to be able to forget about all of the pain and struggle even if it was only for one day.
''Yes, you did.''
''No, I didn't,'' he insisted.
Makoto's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking at the drawings then back at Haruka. ''But you-''
''That was Ran and Ren's present. I haven't given you mine yet.''
''Haru...''
Said boy went to grab the bag that contained the present, having put it somewhere out of view. Not only was he giving it to Makoto now his family wasn't here because he wanted to distract him from any sorrowful thoughts, but also because once the twins saw it, they would definitely snatch it away from their brother, and Haruka wanted for Makoto to be able to receive it properly before his little siblings admired it close-up.
If Haruka were to be completely honest, he wanted Makoto's full attention to be on the gift when he got it without any disturbance. The reason for that being that he was pretty nervous about this present. It worried him quite a bit. Would Makoto understand what Haruka meant with this present, just like he did with the drawing? If he did, what would he think about it? What if he just didn't like it?
Deciding to just wait and see, Haruka handed Makoto the bag before plopping back down into his chair, silently awaiting Makoto's response. Makoto's eyes went wide and his lips parted when he accepted the large bag, the wrapped gift poking out of it slightly.
Without saying a word, Makoto took the big gift out of the bag. Haruka could see the curiosity in Makoto's eyes, wondering what this large, rather soft present could be as he slowly started to tear the wrapping off.
A small gasp left Makoto's open mouth when the torn paper revealed what was inside. The wrapping was thrown aside, leaving only the stuffed orca in his lap.
''Happy birthday, Makoto.''
''Haru...'' Makoto echoed, and by just saying his name, Haruka knew that Makoto understood.
Though Haruka always wanted to give Makoto something he'd love for his birthday, he thought that this year it was especially important to give him something that would be able to convey the feelings and emotions he was unable to verbally express. He'd wanted to give him something symbolic; something he could hold on to; something he could get strength out of; something to remind him that he was not alone. When having it near, perhaps Makoto would even think about him, because Haruka wanted him to know that he was there for him every step of the way, even if he wasn't able to be physically present at all times.
Makoto hugged the plushie - that was about as large as his whole upper body - to his chest, burying his face into the soft snout. He held it there, taking a deep breath before looking back at Haruka. And there it was again, that small sparkle of hope lighting up in his green eyes.
''Orcas are strong,'' Haruka remarked, his voice soft and steady, ''And Makoto is, too.''
Those words made Makoto's lips quiver, the corners stretching in a watery smile, and his eyes squeezed half-shut.
''Thank you, Haru,'' he said genuinely.
Even if he'd only said that small phrase, Haruka could hear everything it meant; thanking him for the gift, for the message it sent, for everything. Really, Haruka couldn't do anything but smile back at him, nodding as if to say 'you're welcome'.
Silence settled between them again. Makoto leaned back against the bed, sliding down slightly as he kept the orca against him, his hand gently stroking it. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, smiling to himself as he let his eyes slip shut for a moment.
Haruka watched as Makoto drifted off to sleep, his grip weakening on the toy, yet holding on nonetheless. It probably hadn't been Makoto's intention to go back to sleep, but he had been too tired to keep himself up any longer, Haruka assumed. It wasn't unusual for Makoto to be tired lately; he was it more often than not. So Haruka could only imagine how exhausted he must be right now, even if the day wasn't quite over yet.
In moments like these, quietly sitting beside his friend, the bittersweet feelings hit him the hardest. His mind would drift off, thinking about the state Makoto was in and how terrible it must be for him. But there would also be that small selfish voice in the back of his head that was glad that he was able to be at Makoto's side, watch over him even if he was unable to protect him.
Blue eyes left the sleeping boy. Haruka took a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. He had told himself that he wouldn't have these kinds of thoughts in front of Makoto, at least not today. Makoto would surely notice Haruka's melancholy, and he wouldn't allow himself to ruin Makoto's birthday like that. If sick, sick Makoto could keep up the facade, then he could as well. It was worth the try in the very least.
Not long after this the Tachibanas returned along with the promised tuna sandwich. It wasn't mackerel, but who was Haruka to complain right now?
''I'm sorry, Haru-kun. They didn't have any mackerel,'' Mrs. Tachibana whispered as she handed him the sandwich.
''It's okay,'' he mumbled, opening the package and starting to eat. It wasn't her fault they didn't sell any mackerel.
As he took another bite out of the bread he heard the simultaneous intake of sharp breath. Two pairs of wide eyes focused on the same point; the large plushie trapped between Makoto's arms.
Mrs. Tachibana shot Haruka a look, flicking her gaze from him to the orca and back to him. He only nodded in response to her unspoken question.
In the meanwhile the twins had gathered around Makoto's bed, their attention still focused on the toy their brother was cradling. As if sensing their presence, Makoto opened his eyes, blinking down at the inquisitive faces of his siblings.
''Hey, Onii-chan, can we look?''
''Hmm?'' Makoto's confused glance fell upon the present in his hold. ''Oh... Yeah, sure.''
''Be careful,'' Mrs. Tachibana warned, as Makoto handed over the orca to Ren.
''Wow...'' Ren gasped as he hugged the plushie, his arms not long enough to wrap around it completely. After a while Ran asked if she could hold it and Ren gave it to her.
Now the twins were distracted, Mrs. Tachibana gestured towards the closed tray of food the nurse had brought earlier. ''Did you eat something?''
Like a child being caught stealing candy, Makoto turned his face to his lap, shaking his head.
''Oh well. I suppose eating cake for breakfast isn't bad for once,'' she smiled and winked at him. If only she had known she was wrong.
Ran returned the stuffed orca to Makoto, who placed it back in his lap, and Mrs. Tachibana went to cut the cake.
The twins argued about who would get the biggest slice of the cake, and when things started to turn a little too serious, Mr. Tachibana interrupted.
''I know who will get the biggest piece.''
Full expectation Ren and Ran turned to their father. ''Who?''
''Me.''
The look on the twins' faces made Mr. Tachibana smile, and their whine of ''Dad!'' caused him to laugh.
''What? I'm the biggest, so I should get the biggest piece of cake!'' he teased.
''Yeah but... but...'' they protested, incapable of thinking of a good comeback.
''I think Onii-chan should get the biggest piece,'' Mrs. Tachibana cut in, bringing over two plates of cake. ''Since it's his birthday.'' She handed one of the plates to Makoto and the other one, with a significantly smaller piece, to Haruka. Mrs. Tachibana knew Haruka wasn't fond of sweets, and Haruka appreciated her thoughtfulness.
In the end Ran and Ren got slices that were equally as large and they ate it like their lives depended on it. Haruka ate his piece a lot slower, taking small bites rather than stuffing his face with it. As his fork dug into the gooey cake, he looked over to Makoto. Usually Makoto would take large bites, moaning between mouthfuls, chocolate in the corners of his mouth as he'd exclaim how delicious it was. Now, he was just poking at it with his fork like he did with everything else. The look on his faces resembled nostalgia mixed with envy, underneath the veil of fatigue.
As if sensing Haruka's eyes on him, Makoto tore off a small piece of the cake, eating it slowly before turning to Haruka with a forged smile painting his features.
''It's really good. Thank you.''
Aforementioned reasons were the only thing keeping Haruka from calling Makoto out on his nonsense. Instead he just nodded as he shoved a piece of strawberry into his mouth.
''It's our pleasure!'' Mrs. Tachibana answered.
Soon after that, it went wrong. Makoto hadn't been able to eat even half of the slice before everything came back up. He only had a split second to reach for a paper bag - which were permanently kept at his bedside since this wasn't a rare occurrence - to empty his stomach in or else it would have ended up all over his bed sheets.
His mother was at his side immediately, softly rubbing his back like she had before. Mr. Tachibana took Ran and Ren outside the room to give his son some space and to prevent the twins from throwing up too. Haruka could only watch with a nauseous feeling in his own stomach that had nothing to do with the chocolate cake.
The cancer was taking everything away from him; he wasn't even able to enjoy his favourite cake on his birthday anymore. It was really hard for everyone to keep their heads up, especially for Makoto. And just the knowledge that despite everything, he wasn't even able to enjoy the smallest things, hurt Haruka. He couldn't even begin to imagine how it must feel for Makoto himself.
When Makoto's vomiting ceased, Mrs. Tachibana went to dispose of the used bag as Makoto stumbled to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Haruka opened one of the windows to rid the room of the foul smell, after which he went to call Mr. Tachibana and the twins back.
''I'm sorry,'' Makoto said when he was settled down again, looking down at his lap dejectedly.
''Don't apologise,'' Mrs. Tachibana scolded softly. ''It's not your fault.''
He didn't say anything in response, just tightened his grip on the duvet.
''Ah, that reminds me!'' Mr. Tachibana suddenly proclaimed.
''What?''
''Onii-chan hasn't gotten our present yet!''
''Ah, you're right,'' his wife agreed, seemingly having forgotten about it due to all the commotion. She grabbed her purse and got a smaller plastic bag out of it, handing it to her son with another birthday wish spilling from her lips.
Makoto accepted the bag with a murmur of 'thanks'. He reached inside and got out the few gifts that were inside. Unwrapping them revealed a couple of games Makoto had wanted for a while. His mouth curled up in a smile as he thanked his parents again, but his eyes didn't join in.
Mr. Tachibana and the twins left after that. More words of gratitude and wishes of well-being were exchanged, and Ran and Ren made Makoto promise that they could play with his games sometime. They understood that he wasn't feeling well, as they didn't object to having to leave earlier with their father and they didn't ask any questions either.
''Now then, why don't you get some sleep,'' Mrs. Tachibana proposed once the rest of the family was gone.
Nodding in agreement, Makoto lowered the mattress and lied down.
''Sorry,'' whispered so soft, yet both his mother and best friend had heard him clearly.
''It's not your fault,'' Mrs. Tachibana said resolutely, ''You don't have anything to be sorry for. So stop apologising.''
His lips parted again, most likely to apologise once more, before closing as he processed the words.
''Just go to sleep,'' Mrs. Tachibana commanded gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead and pulling the blankets up to his chin, tucking him in.
''Okay.''
Within a few minutes Makoto's breathing evened out. Haruka watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, as watching was about all he could do.
Perhaps the worst part was the fact that Makoto felt the need to apologise to everyone; that he actually felt guilty for getting sick. Haruka knew that Makoto thought of himself as a burden to his loved ones, and honestly, that upset him a little. It wasn't as if he had asked for this illness, and no one found him a burden. Yet he kept saying that he was sorry; sorry for hurting everyone, sorry for ripping everyone's lives apart, sorry for unintentionally demanding all of the attention, sorry for being an inconvenience all together.
But Haruka didn't think he was. None of it. Truly, he would repeat this cycle every day for the rest of his life if it meant that Makoto would live, as just staying by his side was enough.
Haruka diverted his gaze from Makoto to Mrs. Tachibana. She was holding Makoto's hand in one of hers, the other softly caressing his forearm, minding the IV drip that was still nestled into his skin.
Only these past few weeks had made him realise what a strong woman Mrs. Tachibana actually was. One of the most horrible things that could happen to any parent had happened to her, she could have completely broken down and nobody could have blamed her for it. But she hadn't. When her family reached its lowest point yet she kept everything together. She managed to take care of the twins, the house, her part-time job, and even found the strength to care for her sick son. All of that without one single complaint. Smiling as she gave it her all, pouring her love into everything she did. Haruka really admired her for that. It was easy to see that Makoto really took after her.
That is not to say that Mr. Tachibana didn't have a rough time, because he did, but it was different, in a way. Due to him being at work for the majority of the day, he was less involved in his son's condition and treatment than his wife was. It's not like that was his fault; he still needed to provide for his family after all.
Out of everyone, perhaps they were the ones who were pretending the most. Having to live with the heartbreaking reality that your child is terribly ill and could possibly die soon, whilst also having to keep up an act in which everything is alright and none of this happened must be absolutely soul-crushing. Yet Haruka knew that they had no choice. They couldn't simply drop everything and bawl their eyes out in a corner, that was impossible. Still, it took a lot of power and energy to keep going day after day after day, and that deserved praise in the least.
If only Haruka were able to be that strong.
The rest of Makoto's birthday passed in silence. After a few hours of sleep Makoto was awoken by another nosebleed, but that was nothing new. Despite his bad condition throughout the entire day, he was able to drink a few sips of miso soup for dinner without throwing up, though it wasn't much more than that. Sleep took him again soon after, and he remained in that state for the rest of their visit.
They left later that evening, Mrs. Tachibana parting from her son with another kiss on his forehead. Wordlessly, Haruka trailed behind her, though his heart was left behind in that hospital room.
December rolled around and that meant one thing: Christmas. No snow had fallen yet, but that didn't stop people from getting into the holiday spirit. Everywhere you looked there were stores with Christmas-themed displays, houses decorated with lights and ornaments, and Christmas trees popping up at every corner of every street. In conclusion, it was obvious the festive season had arrived.
This was around the time Haruka usually started to think about his present for Makoto. After feeling like he had utterly failed on Makoto's birthday, Haruka was determined to make this Christmas as wonderful for Makoto as he could. Despite Christmas being a typical holiday for lovers, this year it was going to be a more family-oriented celebration for the Tachibanas - and Haruka, of course, who had been invited to spend the holidays at their home. No one voiced the reason for this, but they all knew it; this could very well be Makoto's last Christmas.
However, this year Haruka didn't have to think long about what to give his friend for Christmas. His grandmother had taught him how to knit, and he was going to use that skill to make Makoto's present. He had planned on knitting a hat for Makoto, and he'd decided to ask the twins for help. They'd enjoyed making the drawings so much and Haruka figured this was a good way to keep them occupied and positively involved with their brother's illness at the same time. He had to admit it was a good distraction for himself as well; he could get completely lost in whatever he was doing, and it helped to fight off the sorrowful feelings.
Both Ren and Ran were ecstatic about getting to knit something for Makoto, and the added bonus of getting to do it together with Haruka only made them even more enthusiastic.
And so Haruka took them out to go to the nearest store that sold wool. The children were full of glee because of the cheerful ambiance that hung in the shopping district, laughing and pointing at everything they saw. They reminded Haruka so much of Makoto. He remembered how excited Makoto always was around this time, his green eyes lighting up just like Ran's and Ren's were right now. Makoto had always loved Christmas, and Haruka never really understood it. But now as he was looking at the twins and recalling fond memories of a smaller version of Makoto, he decided that it wasn't that bad.
Inside the shop Haruka let the twins pick a colour of wool each. He wasn't surprised in the least when Ran picked a ball of orange colour and Ren chose a light blue one. Haruka himself chose a softer green, and a dark brown as base colour for all of the hats - he wanted to make all of the hats brown-and-other-colour striped. Along with a few knitting needles, Haruka took the balls towards the counter to pay for it all.
After that, Haruka took the twins to a small coffee shop not too far from the crafts store, to let them escape from the swing that was daily life just a little longer. He let them pick a spot as he went to order at the counter; hot chocolate for Ran and Ren, tea for himself. When he got back the twins happily accepted the drinks, thanking him as they took a sip, burning their tongues in the process.
Haruka just watched over them, softly blowing on his own drink to prevent making the same mistake as they had. Then, a small voice in the back of his head tried to convince him that he was just spending time with the twins to try to fill the gap that Makoto had left behind. Shaking his head, he tried to tune out the voice and instead focus on what Ran and Ren were discussing: Christmas with Makoto.
On the twentieth of December Makoto's cycle of chemotherapy would end, and he'd be released from the hospital the next day to rest at home until the next cycle would start two weeks later. The twins were thrilled about their brother coming home, and Haruka would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it too, but it wouldn't be what the twins were hoping for. Even if he was coming home, Makoto was still sick; it wouldn't be the same as before he got ill.
However, Haruka couldn't find it within his heart to ruin their eagerness by reminding them of that fact. Besides, it wasn't his place to tell them either way. Though he mostly only thought that because he wanted to be a part of their delusion for a little while longer.
When they finished their drinks, they went back to the Tachibana residence so they could start on the next project. First, Haruka taught the twins how to knit. Ran got the gist quickly, but Ren needed a little more guidance to get started. Soon enough he realised that hats might be too difficult for their first time knitting. Not wanting to exclude them because of this, Haruka proposed that they made matching scarfs instead, to which the twins agreed with just as much enthusiasm.
Just like they had before, Ran, Ren, and Haruka fell into routine again - the same one they had with the drawings. They had hoped they would be done with the presents before Makoto was released, but they didn't make it. Haruka's knitting tempo was quite high, but Ren and Ran's wasn't, and Haruka had to help them whenever they made a mistake or needed to switch colours. The constant chattering the twins provided decreased the pace as well.
When the 21st came, Haruka went to the hospital with Mr. and Mrs. Tachibana to pick Makoto up. The boy in question was still fast asleep when they arrived, so they decided to wait until he woke up himself before leaving. Mrs. Tachibana started to pack Makoto's belongings, Haruka gently removed all of the drawings that were hung on the wall across from Makoto's bed, and Mr. Tachibana went back downstairs to get a wheelchair; walking from his room on the third floor all the way to the parking lot would be too much for Makoto, especially since the whole point of him going home was to rest.
Mr. Tachibana returned soon enough, along with a foldable wheelchair. ''They said we could borrow it,'' he whispered, not wanting to wake his son. After parking the wheelchair in a corner of the room, Mr. Tachibana helped his wife with packing.
A little while later, there were three soft knocks on the door, which then opened and revealed Makoto's oncologist standing in front of the room. She smiled as she asked if they could come with her for a second. Everyone did as she had said and they followed her into an office not far from Makoto's room.
As she was looking through a drawer of files - searching for Makoto's documents, or so Haruka presumed - she told them that she would give them a little more information on how to properly take care of Makoto for the upcoming two weeks. When she found what she was looking for, she flipped through the pages before looking back at Makoto's parents and at Haruka.
''First things first,'' she started. ''As you know, Makoto-kun will be off worse than he was before he came here. Since the chemo didn't work as we were expecting it to, not only has the amount of contaminated cells in his blood increased, but a part of his healthy cells were destroyed by the medication. Therefore, please don't hesitate to give a call if anything-''
''What?''
Haruka's jaw dropped and his eyes blew wide as his mind tried to comprehend what Shimura-sensei was saying. His heart was fiercely pounding against his ribs as he slowly processed her words and he hadn't even noticed that he had voiced his confusion aloud.
Makoto was dying. Despite being at the hospital; despite receiving medical care; despite the chemotherapy; despite all of his suffering; Makoto was dying. The medication wasn't working. Makoto was going to die. Makoto's going to die.
His breathing became heavier and heavier with every passing second as he realised the meaning of the words. Looking over to Mr. and Mrs. Tachibana in expectation of meeting their equally shocked expressions, instead he was met with sad, knowing faces. When Haruka's reaction hit them, their looks changed from sad to surprised.
''Haru-kun.''
Since the realisation hit him, those words kept repeating themselves in his head. Suddenly he felt hot all over, his heart was beating so fast it hurt, his rushed breath got caught in his throat as panic completely overtook his senses.
The pieces of his crumbled world were slowly slipping through his fingers and no matter how tightly he clenched his hands together, he couldn't hold them or stop them from falling.
So he ran. Turning on his heel, Haruka sprinted out of the room before he realised what he was doing. He stumbled around the corner, running into someone but not stopping to apologise. Vaguely he could hear people's voices, but his ears were ringing too loudly to hear what they were saying.
Everything was spinning before his eyes and his sight became blurry, but that didn't stop him from running. He didn't even know where he was heading, all he knew was that Makoto was going to die and that he had to get out of there as fast as possible.
The dizziness soon became too much and he had to lean against the wall for support in order to prevent himself from tripping. He felt like he was about to throw up, still gasping for breath as he pushed himself forward on his quivering legs.
Makoto was going to die. His best friend was going to die. The most important person in his life was going to die and there was nothing Haruka could do to stop it.
He was able to make it out of the hallway but as soon as he reached the elevators he collapsed against the wall. Slowly he slid down until he was seated on the floor, still shaking and hyperventilating heavily. Tears were burning in his eyes and he wrapped his arms around his body, like he was trying to hold himself together. It all felt unreal and Haruka prayed that this was another nightmare, that it wasn't true. But the burning feeling in his chest, the tight knot in his stomach, the sweat that was rolling over his skin, all of it proved that this was reality. Though, that didn't stop him from feeling like he was losing his mind, like he was finally going insane.
The nausea became worse and he lifted his trembling hand to his mouth, trying not to vomit. His vision clouded over and fear overwhelmed him entirely.
The next thing he knew, there were hands on his face. They were small, soft, and felt cool on his overheated, pale skin. It almost felt like he was underwater. He could make out hazy figures before his eyes, but couldn't properly see who or what they were. Noises were all around him, but all he could hear was a faint rustle. His face was wet with what could be sweat, tears, or a mix of both. The only difference was that he didn't inhale any water with his harsh panting, though air didn't make its way into his aching lungs either.
''Haru-kun! Haru-kun, can you hear me?!''
The muted voice sounded somewhat familiar, yet Haruka couldn't place it. One of the hands on his cheeks was suddenly gone before it came back, hitting him in hopes of getting him back to earth. Instead of pain, a tingling sensation spread from the place of the stroke to his entire face.
What happened next, Haruka wasn't sure. He was shaken roughly, but he couldn't tell whether it was someone else's doing or his own. Another blur appeared before his eyes as something was thrust into his face. It was held against his mouth, the rough edges jabbing into his skin, but it didn't hurt. Perhaps it did, but he was unable to feel it, with terror that was screeching inside of him.
Slowly his hyperventilating ceased, though his breathing was still anything but calm. His eyes focused and he saw Mrs. Tachibana crouched in front of him, worry and panic painting her features. She let out a sigh of relief when they made eye contact.
''Oh, Haru-kun, thank God! You just ran out and then I found you here but you weren't responding and you had this distant look and you wouldn't calm down and I didn't know what to do and...'' She rambled on and on, but Haruka couldn't keep up with what she was saying. Like he was waking from a coma, he was disoriented; he didn't know what had happened nor how he got here, sitting on the floor of a hospital hallway, his limp arms twitching at his side. All he knew was that one truth - or, what he believed to be the truth.
Mrs. Tachibana pulled him against her chest. Haruka didn't return her embrace. The fog may have started to clear, but his mind was still hazy and he didn't really know what to do. Once she released him, her hands paused at his shoulders, holding him as she continued.
''Are you alright? I was so worried,'' she said, obviously seeing his distress.
''Makoto-'' Haruka whimpered, not able to form coherent sentences, ''He... I...''
''He said he wanted to tell you himself. I really thought he had.''
''He... Why?!'' he begged, his voice sounding so broken it inflicted noticable pain in Mrs. Tachibana.
''I don't know,'' she confessed, ''He probably didn't want you to worry.''
Dumbstruck he stared at her, trying his hardest to string together the mush of his brain. ''Worry?''
''Haru-kun, I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean for you to find out like this.''
She offered more words of apology, though they all fell on deaf ears. For a while, Haruka just sat there, trying to let the words properly sink in without freaking out again. Eventually, he was able to bottle everything back up, even if only for then. Mrs. Tachibana and a nurse Haruka hadn't acknowledged before helped him pull himself together again.
After he got up from the floor, he was led into a room where he was allowed to wash his face and drink some water before he deemed himself ready enough to face Makoto again. Faintly he could hear the nurse and Mrs. Tachibana talking outside of the room, but he didn't bother to make effort to listen to what they were saying.
When she came inside, Mrs. Tachibana informed him that he would be staying the night at their house. Even if he had wanted to, Haruka knew that protesting would be futile; she wouldn't allow him to be alone at home in a state like this and he didn't have the strength to argue with her.
Once he felt like he had somewhat collected himself, Mrs. Tachibana and he went back to Makoto's room. There, they saw that Makoto was already awake and getting ready to leave. One look into his eyes and Haruka knew that Mr. Tachibana had told him what had happened. He knew Haruka knew.
Though he still felt Makoto's eyes on him, Haruka averted his gaze and didn't say a word. Neither did Makoto. Usually he would've started up a conversation already or at least greeted his friend, yet now he kept his mouth shut. That proved to him that Makoto understood. If he were to look into those breathtaking, dull eyes or were to hear that beautiful, hoarse voice, he was sure he would've broken down again right there, right then. Luckily that didn't happen.
As soon as everything was packed and Makoto was ready, they left the department. Mr. Tachibana pushed the wheelchair and Mrs. Tachibana and Haruka carried the bags. Makoto had protested and said that the bags could be set on his lap, but since they were quite heavy his mother wouldn't have any of it. She'd claimed that his legs would go numb before they even left the hospital.
The entire way, Haruka could feel Makoto stealing glances at him from the corner of his eyes. Despite this, Haruka was still stubbornly avoiding his gaze.
Once they reached their car, Mr. Tachibana helped his son into the front seat, after which he folded the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. The bags were set on top of it. Haruka and Mrs. Tachibana seated themselves in the back, Mr. Tachibana behind the wheel.
The drive home was quiet. Instead of talking, they all just stared out of the window, letting the soft tune of the radio fill up the empty space.
Back at home, dinner was awkward. It was just the four of them, as Ran and Ren were staying over at a friend's house and would come back tomorrow afternoon. That way they could blow off steam before coming back home to Makoto. At least, that's what he had been told. Now, he dared to bet they simply didn't know how bad Makoto's condition was and keeping them busy prevented them from asking too many questions, while at the same time it gave Makoto more rest.
The silence was thick and weighed heavily upon their shoulders. Mr. Tachibana tried to break the uncomfortable atmosphere by making small talk, but after receiving little response from both his wife and the two boys, he ceased his attempts.
After dinner Mrs. Tachibana went to do the dishes, and told Haruka that instead of helping her, he should help Makoto with going upstairs and call if they needed anything. Understanding what she meant with that, Haruka wordlessly did as she had said.
Makoto was a bit out of breath when they got upstairs, but other than that he didn't need much help. Entering his room once he regained his breath, Makoto sat down at the top end of his bed. Haruka closed the door behind them and settled himself at the other end of the bed, his back turned to Makoto.
For a while, neither of them said a word and silence hung between them. Haruka could feel Makoto's stare burning in his back, yet he kept facing the door in the hopes of keeping all of his emotions at bay.
After a long, dragged out pause, Makoto spoke.
''Haru, what's wrong?''
His bottom lip began to tremble and he caught it between his teeth. Haruka knew Makoto was just asking this as a conversation starter, not knowing where else to begin, because they both knew what was wrong. He hadn't made a sound ever since he'd calmed down and hadn't been subtle about doing his very best to avoid Makoto's glances.
Makoto took a deep breath before he continued. ''Is this about what Shimura-sensei told you?''
Even though he tried his very best to keep everything locked away, every syllable that left Makoto's lips tugged at his wounds until they started to bleed again. Anger washed over him, followed by fear and melancholy. And all the while one question kept surging through his mind.
Why didn't you tell me?
''I meant to tell you sooner,'' Makoto uttered, his voice sorrowful and apologetic, ''but I just didn't know how to say it.''
With that, all of the previous emotions Haruka felt evaporated into thin air as he was drowned in grief. When instead of giving a verbal response Haruka sniffed, Makoto's voice grew even more concerned.
''Haru?''
Haruka turned to Makoto, tears brimming in his eyes as he choked out, ''I don't want to lose you.''
''Oh, Haru,'' Makoto muttered as he brought his hands up in caution, ''Please don't cry!''
But it was already too late. Makoto scooted over to him as tears rolled over Haruka's cheeks, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he began to sob. His fingers tangled in Makoto's shirt and he buried his face in Makoto's chest.
''I need you,'' he confessed. Even if he never would've admitted it under normal circumstances, the desire to be held and comforted by the one he loved the most; the only one who could stab him, heal him, and tear his wounds back open, made every trace of his common sense disappear.
''I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,'' Makoto sighed, pulling Haruka closer against himself as Haruka let out broken sobs of his name.
Haruka wanted to tell him to stop apologising, but nothing but whimpers left his lips. However, Makoto still understood him, and closed his mouth as he sat back against the wall with Haruka lying between his legs and against his chest. One of Makoto's hands ran up Haruka's back and he softly stroked Haruka's neck with his thumb, the other one pressing him against himself.
His grip on Makoto's shirt tightened as his crying increased volume. He cursed this body for getting sick. Even though he loved it so much, Haruka hated it too. How could it hurt him like this? He couldn't even envision what it must be like for Makoto himself; being betrayed by his own body.
Dear, sweet Makoto. What did he do to deserve this? It was just so unfair. Makoto was one of the kindest people to ever exist, beautiful both inside and out. He deserved the world, yet he received this, this life-threathening illness that was destroying him from within, physically as well as mentally and it's not fair. The rational part of his brain knew it doesn't quite work like that and that people get sick regardless of who they are, but not Makoto. Anyone but him.
Even with the illness, his genuine kindness never wavered. Like now, after having gotten the most shattering news any sick person can get, he's comforting and soothing someone else. That's just how selfless Makoto was, unlike Haruka, who was demanding all of his attention even though he should be the one comforting him instead of the other way around.
The black locks on Haruka's head were tickled as Makoto nuzzled his hair, burying his nose between the strands and pressing his lips against his crown. It's what Makoto always did when the twins fell and scraped their knee or when they argued until one of them burst into tears. Usually Haruka would've feigned annoyance at the affectionate gesture while butterflies roamed through his stomach and set is body on fire. Yet now, he allowed himself to indulge in his need to feel the love Makoto was expressing, in the way he kissed his head, how he rubbed his back, how he held him tight, and just simply how he was always there for Haruka, regardless of the circumstances, Haruka could always count on his comfort. He gave in to his need because this could very well be the last time he was able to feel Makoto's arms around him, the last time they could share a raw moment like this, the last time he could be this close to Makoto before he passed away.
This thought only made him cry harder, hiccupping as his fists clenched around the fabric of the shirt. Trying to swallow all the saliva that had built up in his mouth, which only made it more difficult to breathe. The large hand on his back never ceased its caressing, fingers running up and down Haruka's spine in a soothing rhythm. If Haruka hadn't been wailing so loudly, perhaps he would've heard the occasional sniff coming from above him.
Makoto let Haruka cry without interruption for quite some time, offering the support he was so clearly craving. All the emotions of the past few months had built up to the point where they were overflowing. Though this definitely wasn't the first time he let his feelings run wild, this was the first time he allowed himself to seek that arm around him, the fingers running through his hair, the chest to cry into. With everything that had happened these past few hours, he thought that he would burst if he didn't have Makoto here with him.
Despite all of his effort to keep his feelings hidden from him, Haruka knew he wasn't strong enough to keep up the act for long before he would inevitably break. And he had reached that breaking point. He was going to beat himself up over it later, but at that moment he couldn't care less that he had let everything boil up inside of him. He knew what he wanted; what he needed, and that was Makoto.
''Haru?'' Makoto then murmured, the soft crack in his voice making Haruka push his face further into his soaked torso.
Gently Makoto cupped Haruka's neck with both hands, his thumbs on either side of his jaw, carefully tilting his head up. Instead of meeting his gaze Haruka kept his eyes firmly shut, unable to stop crying.
''Haru,'' Makoto called again, and when he still didn't receive an intelligible response he tenderly brushed his lips against Haruka's forehead.
Startled by this, Haruka looked up into Makoto's eyes. The loud sobbing had ceased, but quiet tears continued to leak out of his glistering eyes. A small smile sat on Makoto's face and he lifted his hands to cup Haruka's head. Then, he began to wipe away all of his thick, salty tears, his fingers warm and welcome against Haruka's red-marked skin. Haruka inhaled a stuttering breath as Makoto pulled down his sleeves a bit and dabbed at his puffy eyes with them.
''Haru,'' he whispered once more to gather his friend's attention, his expression and tone dead serious all of a sudden. ''I can't promise you that I'll get better.''
At those words, tears welled up in his blue orbs again, sniffing deeply.
''But,'' Makoto went on, seeing Haruka's reaction and obviously wanting to stop him from crying again, ''I will promise you that I won't give up without a fight.''
The opposite of the desired effect happened; Haruka let out a cry of ''Makoto!'' as he wrapped his arms around Makoto's midsection, squeezing him as he pressed his face back in his drenched shirt, waterworks starting all over again. Sobs of his name spilled from Haruka's mouth as he embraced him like he would never let go. In return Makoto snaked his arms around Haruka's body, tangling his digits into Haruka's raven locks and he resumed stroking his back in that soothing way of his.
''Sorry, Haru,'' he sighed, ''I'm so sorry.''
There he went again. Out of all of the feelings one would expect a cancer patient would have, guilt wasn't the one that came to mind first. Especially for someone so young, a different reaction wouldn't be surprising at all. Anger, denial, self-pity; none of it would be out of place in this scenario. If it were him who got sick, Haruka was sure he'd feel those things. But for Makoto, things were different. Maybe everything would've been easier if Makoto were to portray these uncharacteristic emotions. That is not to say that Haruka wished these negative feelings upon him, but anything was better than this crushing guilt. Then again, this was a part of Makoto, and he loved him just the way he was.
For a while they sat in complete silence, save for the sounds of Haruka's crying and Makoto's soft breathing. His face was still hidden in Makoto's torso, blood rushing through his ears as he desperately tried to hold on to this moment, wanting it to go on for all of eternity. Though the situation wasn't ideal in the least, if this moment would go on forever then he would be happy, content. He was home; the place where he felt he really belonged. He would give anything if that meant he wouldn't lose this. To spend the rest of his life here, that was what he truly wished for.
Makoto's chest rose against Haruka's face as he took a deep breath. His larger hands rested against Haruka's shoulder blades, and he slowly placed his cheek on top of Haruka's head.
''Thank you, Haru,'' he spoke lowly.
Eyes that had been squeezed shut opened, confusion interrupting his pondering. Makoto was thanking him? For what? For selfishly demanding all of Makoto's time and energy? For assuming the victim role, even though he clearly wasn't the victim? For making this all about himself? For only thinking about himself and his needs? For being an egoist, seeking comfort in Makoto and getting his snot and tears all over him?
As if he read his mind, Makoto provided him with the answer to his unvoiced question.
''For caring.''
A/N: As always, thank you for reading. Thanks to everyone who left reviews, faves, etc. Your response really fuels my engine! ^^
If there's anything you want to discuss with me, fic-related or not, then you can always visit me on Tumblr at datheetjoella
Have a wonderful day and until the next time!
