He flinched horribly when the thunder shook the entire earth, and he nearly lost his feet from under him, but he stumbled back on step and continued forward, running straight into the furious tide, toward Haru lying in the sand.

"Haru!"

Haru looked up just in time for a wave to crash down on top of him, though he was braced well enough that he didn't go anywhere. Makoto on the other hand was pushed off balance and landed gracelessly on his hip. The water backed away quickly, and he made sure to move even quicker than that, knowing it would be back. He crawled the extra couple of feet over to Haru just in time to shield him from the next wave by casting himself over his back.

Haru's skin was ice cold, and it took him a second to realize that he didn't have a shirt on, but he also didn't dwell on it, just took advantage of the next break to find his feet and grab Haru under his arms to drag him further up the beach where they both collapsed a safe enough distance from the water not to be yanked or pushed by it.

They were both panting. Makoto lowered himself close to Haru, trying to make him out in the dark, terrified of what he might find, though when Haru turned over to face him there was nothing seemingly wrong with him other than that he was clearly sapped of all strength.

"Are you okay?" Makoto shouted over the storm. "Are you hurt?"

Haru shook his head. "I'm fine. Just …" He gasped out an exhale and looked down toward his legs. "It's kind of hard to get inside right now."

Makoto followed his gaze to find that actually Haru had no legs. Instead, the lower half of his body was taken up by the shape of a tail with rippling fins at the end. It lifted and then dropped back down heavily onto the sand, exceptionally useless on land, and that would definitely explain why he had not come walking through the door.

Makoto, at the current moment, had no thoughts to think about it. He didn't know if he could, had he wanted to. He just stared at it for a hovering second, storm all but completely forgotten, until the thunder crashed down again, calling him back to the present, and he dug his arms under Haru's body.

"It's okay, I've got you."

Haru cooperated, arm curling around Makoto's shoulder as he lifted him off of the sand and stood. He took only a second to shift him comfortably in his hold, then trudged up the beach and through the open door of the cottage, which he turned to kick shut behind him. He instinctively carried Haru to the bathroom and set him down in the tub, and Haru didn't seem opposed to this, so Makoto didn't fret.

"What do you need?"

"A towel."

He turned away to grab just that, and made sure to pluck an extra one for himself. He shut the bathroom window once he ventured back into the room and handed Haru his towel, then draped his own over his head, and sat on the toilet cover just across from the tub.

For the first several seconds, he could only stare at Haru's face, still looking for anything out of place, any injuries, any discolored skin, any strain. But he still seemed only tired.

"You're sure you're alright?" he asked again.

"I'm fine," Haru said, ruffling his hair dry before wrapping the towel around his shoulders and then leaning back against the tub. He looked to Makoto from the side, eyeing him with a bit of uncertainty, timidity, as though he was bracing himself for an onslaught of Makoto's thoughts, but Makoto didn't say anything at all. Maybe he should have, but it wasn't super pressing to him in that moment. He was still trying to calm from being out in the storm, still absorbing the fact that Haru was home safe and okay.

There was a long stretch of silence between them, during which only the rain and thunder could be heard, and Makoto saw Haru clenching and unclenching his fists on the sides of the tub.

"Do you not have any other questions?" he burst finally, brow furrowed.

Makoto blinked. "Oh. I have a lot of questions. I'm just …" He exhaled. "I'm not so much concerned about … this, as I am just glad that you're okay."

Haru's chest expanded, and there was a look in his eyes, a reluctance, as though he didn't believe that but really wanted to, and Makoto realized he was scared. He probably hadn't meant for him to know — about the tail — much less like this. And now he was probably waiting for Makoto to express his horror, or utter confusion, or disgust, but he felt none of those things. All he knew was that he was relieved.

Haru's eyes dropped to his lap and his fingers tapped on the edges of the tub. There was a tick in his jaw.

Makoto sighed. "So … you're a merman?"

Haru looked back to him cautiously. He took his time responding, but when he did it was with confidence. "In human terms, technically. We usually just call ourselves beings of the sea."

"Hm." Makoto nodded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

His eyes drifted to Haru's tail, which was half draped over the lip of the tub. The tail itself was covered in shimmering blue scales that shone with ripples of green and purple with the tiniest shifts of movement. He had four caudal fins, and two more pelvic fins on his sides, all long and gossamer, delicate looking, but Makoto imagined that they were much more resilient than they seemed. The waist of his tail blended seamlessly into the skin around his hips, the scales dissolving into that clear ivory, which in this state was oddly iridescent on its own, much more otherworldly looking than when he was Haru with legs. His face and the shape of his upper body were still essentially the same, but he was definitely different, definitely not human, and Makoto found himself enamored.

"It's beautiful — your tail."

Haru's eyes dropped away as soon as Makoto raised his. He lifted the end of his tail leisurely, as though inspecting it for spots of dirt. "You don't think it's disturbing?"

Makoto huffed half a laugh and smiled. "No, not at all. Should I?"

Haru shrugged. "No other human has seen me like this. I wouldn't have any idea how you should react. I've only heard stories."

"Bad stories I'm guessing?"

He nodded, fingers clenching again, though his expression remained calm. "I suppose you won't be chopping me up into pieces."

"I don't know why that would be the first thing on anyone's mind."

"Cautionary tales to keep us from the surface."

"I see."

"I suppose, more realistically, you wouldn't try to sell me to a lab or an aquarium or something?"

He looked up tentatively through his bangs, and Makoto smiled with a small shake of his head. "No."

Haru nodded. "That's good then, I guess."

"I do have a rather … gnawing question."

"Yes?"

"How does it work?" He shifted more comfortably into his lean, eyes scanning Haru's tail again. "I mean, does your tail appear whenever you get wet? No, it couldn't … I've seen you in the water. But you were struggling to get up the beach just now, and I imagine you won't have legs until you're dry?"

Haru nodded patiently. "It's the sun," he explained. "When the sun is out, I can do as I please. If I want to keep my legs they're there. If I don't, I don't have to. But once the sun is gone, I have no choice. If I'm in the water, I'll have a tail no matter what. And I can only get my legs back once I'm dry. I …"

His shoulders sank as he sighed, watching his tail wave leisurely. "I usually wait in the cave under the cliffside, but it was flooded from the storm, and there aren't many other places to get out of the rain."

"Where did you go?"

At this Haru became unnervingly quiet, and intentionally did not lift his gaze to Makoto. There was a frown hidden in the tautness of his jaw, and Makoto wondered if he should fear it.

"I had a visit to make," he mumbled, and whatever the reluctance was about, he was so adamant that Makoto dared not ask for anymore details. He let it be what it was and figured he didn't need to know.

"So … where exactly do you come from? You said you haven't always lived in the cove."

Haru shook his head, shoulders relaxing slightly with the change of subject. "Tsunacia. It's a sort of village at the bottom of a trench about a hundred kilometers from here. There's not much to say about it, other than that the light doesn't reach and it's cold. It's not exceptionally glamorous like underwater palaces you hear about in fairytales. If you went there — assuming you didn't explode from the pressure — you wouldn't be able to see anything."

"But you could?"

Haru nodded. "I'm very good at seeing in the dark."

Makoto smiled. "That makes some kind of sense now. When did you leave Tsunacia?"

"Officially, I'm not sure. My grandmother decided she couldn't stand it there anymore when I was ten. She'd found this place long before and used it as a way to escape, and sometimes she would bring me with her. Eventually, she moved up here permanently and I came to visit so often that at one point I just stopped leaving."

"I suppose the disconnect with your parents was about living on the surface?"

Haru nodded. "They were always strictly against it. Everyone was really, but none of them ever spent time on the surface. They were all content with cowering in the dark. My grandmother preferred the sun, and having both the land and the sea."

"I'm guessing you do too?"

"I prefer freedom." He lifted his tail again, inspecting it even more closely. "I like being able to choose, to walk when I want to walk and swim when I want to swim. I also like the sky, and birds, and the dolphins, which definitely don't swim that deep."

"So are they … like your friends?"

Haru's head cocked to the side. "More like my family. Mine and my grandmother's. We were adopted by several different pods, and they've grown to call these waters their home. They come and go, but I'm familiar with all of them."

"Can you speak to them?"

Haru nodded, and Makoto perked up.

"So then … you actually know the dolphin who saved me?"

Haru nodded again, with more reluctance this time, but it was there. "Yes," he said quietly. "I was … irritated with him for bringing you here at first." He glanced out of the corner of his eye, but all Makoto had for him was a shy smile.

"Were you?"

"Believe it or not, I'd never had a human wash up on my beach before."

Makoto chuckled. "I believe it."

"I didn't really want anything to do with you, but the sea insisted."

"The sea insisted?"

Haru nodded. "We're beings of the sea, because it was the sea itself that created us. It's the closest thing to a god that we have. It asks things of us sometimes, and we're compelled to honor every request it has because of our bond. My grandmother taught me that we're just as much allowed to ask of the sea, but only with great reverence and always with the understanding that … the sea knows better."

A shadow of something passed over Haru's expression, and Makoto watched it closely.

"That's beautiful," he said.

Haru frowned. "I wish it felt as beautiful as it sounds. Sometimes … the sea decides things that don't make any sense."

"But it knows better," he offered, smiling gently. "If that really is the case, then truly nothing happens out of coincidence or by mistake. There must be a greater purpose for it."

Haru's gaze drifted back to Makoto's, and there was something somber in it, maybe a glimmer of pain somewhere deep in the black of his eyes, and Makoto wished he could erase it, wished he knew why it was there.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then Haru gasped a sharp breath and grimaced as his whole body shuddered. His scales rippled like they were caught by a great gust of wind, and his tail split in two, taking the form of human legs in the blink of an eye. His skin lost its luster, became more opaque and earthly, and he exhaled a steady breath, pulling his feet into the tub to bend and stretch his knees.

Makoto blinked several times before he found his voice. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes. But only for a second. I've usually already forgotten about it by the time it's over."

"Do you like having legs?"

"Enough." Haru nodded. "I like the way dry sand feels."

"Ah." Makoto chuckled. "I see."

"You're amazingly calm about all of this."

He shrugged. "I mean, it's different, that's for sure. But … I dunno. Legs, no legs. You're still Haru." He smiled. "And for that I'm glad."

Another blush brushed the tops of Haru's cheeks — this one a deeper shade of pink — and he dipped his head to hide behind his bangs. His fingers tapped on the edge of the tub again.

"You've got to stop doing that," he whispered under his breath, as though Makoto wasn't quite meant to hear it. So, even though it made him smile even more, he didn't call Haru out for it.

"Are you hungry?"

Haru glanced back at him.

"I made food — and before you panic," he added to the expression of immediate horror on Haru's face. "It actually turned out pretty good. I mean, it took a few tries, and it's probably ice cold by now, but …" He shrugged, then shifted out of his lean and scratched at the back of his hair, letting the towel drop to his shoulders. "I gave it my best effort."

Haru's eyes gave him a skeptical once-over, though there was also something soft in them. "Why?"

Makoto dropped his hand back into his lap. "If I tell you why, you'll complain. You should just eat it."

Haru breathed out a breath and then moved to stand. "Fine."

Makoto stopped breathing the minute he was on his feet, and his eyes darted immediately to the floor, face burning red. It was a very obvious gut reaction, so there was no way for Haru to miss it, and he just stood there watching Makoto and the way the blush rose to the tops of his ears, head probably cocked to the side with utter coolness as though this wasn't a big deal or anything.

"What?" he prompted.

Makoto rubbed at the back of his neck. "Um … You're … I mean …"

"Does me being naked bother you?"

The burn intensified two-fold. He wanted to curl further into himself, but the absolute nonchalance in Haru's tone told him that would be both silly and unnecessary. But he definitely couldn't just lift his head and directly meet his gaze right now — even as much as he was tempted. He was still sitting on the toilet cover and Haru was now standing at his full height in the tub. If he were to look up now, his gaze wouldn't be level with Haru's eyes.

"J-Just a little bit."

"Why?"

He fidgeted. "Well I … It's not exactly polite to stare at- um … I mean, that's your personal …" He flailed his arms and got nowhere.

Haru scoffed somewhere over his head and it sounded both exasperated and amused. He stepped out of the tub and Makoto saw the swish of the towel out of the corner of his eye.

"Humans make no sense. Is this better?"

Makoto peeked up (far too willingly) to find that Haru had wrapped the towel around his waist and was standing directly in front of him with an expectant eyebrow raised. For whatever reason, this made his heart beat even more wildly, and that probably did nothing to alleviate the color in his cheeks, but he wasn't as bothered as he probably should have been. He stood too, knees shaking, and brushed a hand through the back of his hair again.

"That's … That's fine. Yeah."

It wasn't really. For whatever reason, staring down at Haru in just a towel was probably worse than just glancing at his bare body, because it sent his mind reeling, and it was alarming, mostly because of how tantalizing it was to reach out and trace his collarbone with a finger, or slide a hand around his waist. He didn't.

But he definitely wanted to.

"What did you make?"

His voice sounded far away, and it took Makoto a second to respond, because he was busy dragging his eyes down Haru's chest and through the valley between his abs. There was an actual itch in the tips of his fingers. He grabbed at the ends of the towel around his neck.

"Makoto."

"Wet fish." He flinched. "Uh- I mean, fish miso- mackerel. Mackerel simmered in miso."

Something very briefly brightened behind Haru's eyes, but he turned away before Makoto could truly read it and led the way out of the bathroom.

"And it turned out good?"

Makoto exhaled, and pressed a hand to his chest, willing his heart to calm. "I think so."

"Guess I'll have to tell you whether or not you're right about that."

He followed as Haru walked up to the meal he had prepared, complete with meticulous plating and meaningful seashell décor, which he had completely forgotten about until just now. The blush came back with a vengeance and his grip tightened on the towel as he hovered back at a safe distance and bit at his lip, waiting for Haru to react to it.

He stared down at the arrangement for the longest time. Too long really. So long that Makoto's palms began to sweat, and he had enough time to start panicking.

He should have left the seashells out of it. Haru knew them better than Makoto did. It was probably explicitly obvious what Makoto was trying to say, what kind of picture he was painting. And even though that had been his intention from the beginning, now that Haru was actually looking at it, he was rather tempted to tackle him from behind and scream for him to forget that he saw anything and go about his life like normal.

But Haru looked over his shoulder eventually, and his expression was so calm, Makoto couldn't decipher a single bit of it.

"You did all of this?"

He barely remembered how to nod.

"By yourself?"

He inhaled, and then exhaled, and said, "Well, there's no one else here."

Haru actually smiled. He looked back down at the food, then brushed the edge of the counter with a finger and turned to walk back past him.

"I'll put some clothes on if you want to heat it up."

Makoto swallowed, eyes following him as he passed. He nodded a bit too late, so he forced out a "Sure," and then tore his gaze away from Haru's back and picked up the plates of fish to toss them in the microwave.