By the time they left the house to go to Tokyo, his Makoto hadn't slept in days, and it was showing. There were bags under his eyes, which were also constantly rimmed with red. His hair stayed a ruffled mess. He kept biting at the nail of his thumb. And the general brightness that was usually there in his skin, in his posture, in his eyes and in his smile just wasn't there.

Haru hated it. He hated it so badly that it made his skin itch — but so did many other things, like sitting in the airport, taking in so many new things that he'd never seen before, being surrounded by so many humans so consistently. Where Makoto had started nail-biting, Haruka had started scratching — mostly absently, at his neck, at his forearms, but most especially at his legs, which was annoying, because he always had on pants now.

He didn't like the airport. It was crowded and loud, and voices kept speaking overhead out of nowhere, echoing throughout the whole building so that no matter where they went it followed. It also took a long time to get through the whole process, and he was aggravated that they had to sit at the gate for so long, waiting to get on the plane when he could see it sitting right there outside of the giant window. He didn't understand that.

But then when it finally was time to board the plane, that was immediately worse. All the humans got in a compact line, and they crowded him on all sides. Makoto had been leading the way through the whole airport and was in front of him now too, but Haru wished he could also be behind him and beside him so that his flank wasn't so exposed to strangers.

He gripped the back of Makoto's shirt tightly and just barely missed stepping on the heels of his shoes, and then when they got past the ticket human and through the tunnel, Makoto walked through a small and ominous looking door that he knew was the plane itself, and he instantly recoiled in his wake, stopping abruptly as he stared down at the sliver of a gap between the tunnel and the plane where he could very clearly see the ground very far away.

"Haru."

He looked up with wide eyes, elbow shaking, arm fully extended as he clung to Makoto but didn't cross the threshold. There was another human in a weird outfit standing just inside the plane next to Makoto and it smiled at him. He didn't find it the least bit reassuring.

"It's okay," Makoto said, taking his hand and giving it a tender squeeze. "It's alright. It's not as scary as it looks, I promise."

He smiled, and Haru had to fight back a grimace. He was terrified.

Planes were foreign to him. He knew it was supposed to take him up into the air, but he didn't want to go there — had never had any desire to go there. He wanted to be back in the sea, like right now. His skin was crawling. He didn't even know how far away the sea would be when they got to where they were going, and that immediately made him panic. He could feel his heart trying to push its way up into his throat, his breath coming out short and heavy, though the plane was so loud he couldn't even hear it.

But he stared at Makoto's face, at the exhaustion in the shadows beneath his eyes, at the weight still sitting so heavily on his shoulders. He was in the middle of literal hell right now and yet still he was there smiling, holding Haru's hand, giving Haru comfort to hold onto, and Haru could see it, beneath the exhaustion, beneath the grief, beneath all the heartache, and the honest want to console Haru's concerns — it was back there, distant but very clear, he needed Haru. He needed help. He couldn't face all of these things alone, and it was just as difficult for him to be getting on a plane right now, for him to be surrounded by so many faces, for him to have to lead the way. All he needed was for Haru to be there with him. All he needed was for Haru to walk beside him and sit with him so that he wouldn't have to endure all of this alone.

But he wasn't going to say that out loud.

Haru's lips pinched together, and then he took a breath and stepped onto the plane, appeased enough by the relief that came out in Makoto's smile that he was able to follow him through the incredibly narrow and close-quartered plane and sit down in a seat by the window. Makoto sat next to him after putting their bags in the overhead bin, and they took each other's hands again.

It took yet so much more time for the plane to even start moving, and by the time it finally did, Makoto had long since fallen asleep with his head back, but woke up again the moment that Haru flinched in alarm when the plane jerked forward. Makoto squeezed his hand and brushed his thumb along his soothingly.

"It's okay," he mumbled, eyes sliding close again. "We're just about to take off."

"How does it fly?" he asked, staring out of the window at the moving runway.

"I don't really know. That's a good question … Magic, I guess."

Haru pinched his lips and looked over his shoulder. Makoto didn't even have to open his eyes to know. But his lips lifted into a grin and he peeked anyway, then shrugged.

"Well, if mermaids exist, then I don't see why not."

Haru puffed out a breath and turned back to the window. They were picking up speed now. "You've flown before?"

"Several times. We've always made it safely."

He sighed. The gut-dropping longing to be back in the water only intensified, but he said nothing about it. He scratched at his shoulder.

The plane was really starting to move, and the momentum had his back forcefully pressed flat against the seat. When it finally lifted up off of the ground, his stomach seemed to stay down there, and he immediately gasped for breath, hand squeezing the blood out of Makoto's.

The pressure was terrible, and it only got worse as they climbed. It had already been loud, but his ears began to hurt so badly that he thought he might go deaf. The air was different and all wrong. It was intensely more difficult to breathe. And he did not appreciate the way the plane shook and rattled.

He could feel Makoto's look of concern, but didn't meet it, because he was being obvious enough as it was. He didn't want to give his Makoto more of a reason to feel badly. So he sat forward as best he could and tried to calm himself, tried to steady his breathing and find his heartbeat again.

Makoto leaned in close and placed a kiss on his temple, which admittedly did take his mind off of it for a very fleeting moment. "We'll take the train back," he said, directly into his ear so that he could actually hear him, and even still it was nearly drowned out by the engines.

Haru just nodded.

He felt nauseous and off-balance by the time they landed in Tokyo and de-boarded. He was glad he didn't have to beg never to do that again. His kind was most assuredly not meant to fly, and he was proof of that. But he supposed he'd just set some kind of record probably. He couldn't imagine any other beings of the sea volunteering to fly in an airplane. Even his grandmother had never done such a thing in her lifetime. He wasn't sure if it was something he'd go around bragging about though.

"Makoto!"

Haru blinked his focus back within enough time to sweep through a whirlwind of emotions as a tall, pink-haired human barreled into his Makoto and nearly tackled him to the ground.

He was stumped by alarm first, because the human moved so quickly that he feared first for his own life. Then he felt a sweeping rush of instant protectiveness because of how powerfully the human ran into Makoto. He realized it was just a hug quickly enough not to react as though his Makoto was being attacked, but he was instantly aware somehow — he didn't know how, but somehow — that this human that was blubbering over his Makoto with tears and squeezing him half to death was the Kisumi that Makoto had told him about, and the disgust was immediate.

"Oh my god." It was sobbing. "I thought you were gone. I thought you were gone."

Unfortunately, his Makoto was also crying again, and Haru hated that he could see how much he actually cared about the other human still, just from the way that he so comfortably hugged it back and absorbed whatever comfort it had.

Haru scratched at his neck.

"I'm sorry. I tried to come back sooner. I tried to get in touch with somebody —"

"Shush shush shush," the Kisumi said, head shaking as it pulled back but held Makoto's face in its hands and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "None of that, bunny. We're all just glad you're okay, okay? I'm just happy to see you alive, Makoto."

It grimaced then, fresh tears falling, and they seemed to share a thought. The Kisumi wanted to say something else, but was too aggrieved to, but Makoto seemed to understand and just nodded, more tears falling down his own cheeks.

"I know."

"I'm so sorry," the Kisumi whispered.

Makoto nodded again. "Me too."

"Oh, bunny." It moaned at the look on Makoto's face and pulled him close to place a kiss on his forehead and wrap its arms around him again, rubbing a gentle hand across his shoulders. Makoto held it tightly in return.

"They lived beautiful lives," it said into Makoto's ear, rocking him in its arms. "It was too short, but they were happy people, and I know their spirits are happy too."

Makoto nodded into its shoulder.

They stood like that for a long while, and Haru did not interrupt, because he knew that Makoto needed comfort from wherever he could get it, and he acknowledged — reluctantly — that the Kisumi had a more in-depth and intimate knowledge of his Makoto than he did. But he didn't like any of this for that very same reason.

The only good thing was that, when they finally broke apart, Makoto looked like he was finally able to breathe a little bit easier. And for that he was grateful.

"You …" The Kisumi suddenly turned to him with a shining smile, eyes still glossy, but otherwise clear of tears. "… must be Haru."

It reached out to take Haru's face and placed a kiss on his forehead too, which Haru was entirely offended by — outside of being utterly shocked and unsure how to respond without glaring. He could have sworn he heard Makoto chuckle to himself.

He didn't notice until just then that the Kisumi was about Makoto's height, and he didn't like that he felt so small in front of it, especially when it looked at him with such an adoring expression.

"Nagisa told me all about you." It let its hands drop down to his shoulders and made sure it had Haru's gaze when it said, "Thank you. Thank you for watching over him. You truly are an angel. And so precious, oh my god~." It pinched his cheeks with a giggle, and Haru did wrinkle his nose at that. "He must have fallen in love with you."

It gave his Makoto a sly look, and Makoto blushed very heavily and was only able to sputter out an incoherent response.

The Kisumi giggled again. "It's okay, I would have too."

It slipped its arm around Haru's shoulders and gestured for Makoto to join as it started leading them out of the airport. Haru wanted to duck out of its hold, but he didn't know how. It threw its other arm around Makoto's waist, and he didn't like that at all.

"How's Asahi?" Makoto asked, as though he didn't notice.

The Kisumi heaved an exasperated sigh, but there was a smile on its lips. "Oh my god, he's exhausting. I can't get anything done with him around. I love him to death. He's back at the apartment with everyone else. They're all so excited to see you."

Makoto nodded, smiling a fond smile himself. "Me too."

"So you're really leaving us huh?"

"Yeah," Makoto sighed. "I don't really know what I'm going to do, but I know I want to be back at home, at least for a little while."

The Kisumi nodded its understanding and brushed an affectionate hand through his hair, placing another kiss on his temple, which had Haru quietly steaming.

"Yeah, that'll be good. Much better than suffocating in the hustle and bustle at least. Want me and Asahi to move back with you?"

Makoto chuckled, head shaking. The way that he looked at the Kisumi had Haru's stomach in knots. "No … I appreciate it though."

"Of course, my love. We'll come visit every weekend."

Makoto chuckled some more. "Okay."

Haru kept all of his bitterness to himself and pushed the Kisumi's hand off of his shoulder. It came back to sit on top of his head.