"Haruka … Haruka~!"
He looked away from the horizon and the gold sun descending toward the edge of the sea, and saw his grandmother smiling at him, crow's feet wrinkling. His heart lifted on a breath, and immediate tears sprung to his eyes.
"Oba-chan!" he cried, tail whipping against the tide to propel him right into her arms, and she cooed warmly, wrapping her arms around his body, which was small just now — as though he'd aged back and become a child again — but he didn't question it. He just sobbed into her shoulder, allowing her to hold him, not at all bothered that he sounded entirely pathetic and young and so very very vulnerable, which was something his parents had always cautioned him not to be.
But he didn't care because his grandmother was there and he hadn't seen her in so long, and it was like that same pain that had gutted him after she took her final breath was ripping through him fresh, and he could not believe she was there, could not believe he was inhaling that same saltwater scent that was so very much like his own and yet distinctly different. Her skin was so soft and fragile, aged, but she was solid, a whole other being with breath in her lungs and a smile on her lips.
"Oh, Haruka," she groaned, rocking him in her arms. "Don't cry, my child. Don't cry."
"I missed you," he wailed, unable to stop it, and she chuckled, brushing the tears away from his cheeks.
"I haven't left," she said, leaning back to peek at his face. "I've been with you all this time, looking after you. Even already full-grown, you've aged so much. Shush. There now. You don't have to cry."
He whimpered himself quiet, sniffling as she brushed more tears from his face and stroked at his cheek.
"You're still so handsome," she whispered, giggling as though they were sharing secrets.
Even though his head fit in her hands and he was small enough that she had to duck her head to stay level with him, she still spoke as though he was simultaneously both a child and an adult, and somehow he felt that was accurate.
She smiled at him sadly, lips pursed, head tilting, and then she kissed him on the forehead and brushed back his hair. "I'm sorry, Haruka," she said, tone heavy with remorse, and a pain he didn't want to see swam up behind her eyes. He reached up and touched her cheek with a tiny hand.
"You were so lonely," she said. "I couldn't bare to see you that way."
He blinked at her. "Oba-chan?"
Her thumb brushed just under his eye. "I asked the sea to give you love. To bring you someone who would cherish and adore you for who you are, someone whose smiles might bring some warmth into your life …"
His brow furrowed on its own, staring at her, more level with her gaze now for he wasn't a child anymore.
Her smile turned even sadder. "I did not know it would go to such great lengths."
His hand slowly reached up to take hers, pull it away from his face. He held onto it, but also just continued to stare at her, confused.
"Oba-chan …"
"He is hurting, Haruka. Just as much as you have been. It's your turn to help him mourn, my child — the way that he's helped you. It seems like a complicated thing, but don't be intimidated by it. Just be there with him and listen. Let yourself feel what he is feeling. It's okay."
"Oba-chan," he gasped, already panicking because she was backing away. He felt her fingers slip out of his and her next smile was more relaxed, more confident.
"Everything will be alright, mago."
"Oba-chan!"
"Wake up."
He gasped, back popping up like he'd been struck by lightning. His lungs fought for air, limbs trembling, eyes darting around, wide and confused and terrified. It took a second, but he heard Makoto choking not too far away, and blinked himself back into the present, just cognizant enough to realize they had both been deposited inside of a wet cave — one that must have been high enough on a cliffside not to be flooded, though the storm still blew slanting rain and sea spray into the opening.
Haru dragged himself over to where Makoto was halfway propped up on his elbows, sputtering down, trying to breathe. Haru placed a hand in the space between his shoulder blades, and the water surged out of him in an instant, splashing the cave floor. He vomited enough seawater to fill an entire fish tank it seemed, and was left gasping in the aftermath.
"Makoto … Are you —"
"You knew."
Haru retracted his hand, lips drawing down already. Makoto's shoulders heaved, still trying to catch a breath, but he let his head hang for a moment, eyes closed with a deep crease on his brow.
"You knew the whole time and you didn't say anything!"
Haru drew back, grimacing as Makoto pushed himself up to his feet and braced himself with a hand on the wall. He was glaring again, directly down at Haru who had no hope of matching his height even by the little bit he could manage when he did have legs.
"They've been gone for so long, and I had no idea." His voice was breaking already, anguish washing over his features just that quickly. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I'm … I'm sorry," Haru whispered frailly, barely able to respond.
"You said the sea gives, Haru! You said the sea gives more than it takes. That was a lie! You told me I didn't need to be afraid of it. You promised me I could trust it."
Haru's eyes began to burn. A knot rose in his throat. He couldn't say anything.
"Now they're gone, all of them! And I didn't get to … I didn't … They're just …" He tried to catch a breath to speak, but his chest was jerking with sobs, and it took him so much effort. "My mom," he cried, head dropping back as it washed over him all over again. "My dad. Ren …" The agony rolled over him twice as strong and he cried like a child. "Ran." He was barely able to keep himself standing as the grief sucked all of the strength out of him that it could get to, but Haru saw the lightning of rage swell up with horrific swiftness and he whirled around to face the swirling ocean in the next second.
"They were just babies, you heartless murderer! What kind of god are you?! What respect should I have to give you for killing my family?! I hope the sun swallows you up until there's nothing left but sand and fish bones! You lie! All you can do is take! Have this then!"
He heaved up a rock the size of his chest and threw it over the cliff into the ocean below.
"Are you satisfied, oh great sea?!" He threw another one. "Does that appease you?! I'm not scared of you!"
The third rock was much smaller and that one he slammed straight down onto the cave floor. It split off into several pieces and disappeared in the shadows. Then he just stood there panting, and Haru watched him through the blur in his gaze.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Makoto said through his teeth after a moment of silence had passed.
Haru shook his head, trying to swallow past the knot. "I didn't know how."
Makoto whipped a glare over his shoulder. "That's not an excuse."
"It's not," Haru agreed. "It's not. I should have told you immediately, but I wanted so badly for it not to be true. I had to do everything I could to make sure."
Makoto grimaced, as though he'd been speared in the chest by betrayal, and Haru felt it. "You gave me so much hope, Haru."
Haru's lips trembled. "It's my fault," he gasped, his own tears breaking down his cheeks. "It's my fault, Makoto. I did this." He shuddered for a breath. "I couldn't cope with my own loss, so the sea brought you to me, but I'm not worth all of this. I don't understand why it had to take your family away from you. I wish I could give it all back. Everything. I wish I could- … I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He lost to the sobs and they didn't stop. The only thing he could get out was a constant stream of apologies and he gave himself over to the sorrow, allowing it to swallow him, because he deserved it. He didn't know what to feel other than hurt — knowing that he was the cause of all of Makoto's suffering, because everything happens for a reason, and he was that reason, but he didn't want to be, not like this. He couldn't hold that kind of weight, he was not enough to replace this man's entire family, to replace his peace of mind, to replace his joy. He begged the sea to undo it all, rip Makoto out of his life if it had to, but he knew that was impossible, and he knew that was a request that the sea would never grant.
A warm body knelt in front of him and closed him in its embrace, and the tears fell even faster. He held Makoto back with trembling arms and buried his nose in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Makoto didn't say anything, but he held Haru tighter and they both just sat there crying. There was no way to tell for how long.