His Makoto had a lot of friends, and they were all waiting back at his apartment with plenty more tears to shed and hugs to give.
He recognized the Nagisa and the Rei, and was introduced to the one called Asahi, who was apparently Kisumi's new mate, and Haru was only partially relieved by that. There were also others there too though, most with names he'd heard in passing from Makoto telling him stories — a Rin, a Gou, a Sousuke, an Ikuya, a Natsuya, a Nao … The list went on.
Most all of them either gave him invasive hugs or grabbed his hands and told him how grateful they were to him for keeping Makoto. The Nagisa wrapped its whole body around him, as though they'd known each other for years, and he didn't know what to do, but the Rei very graciously saved him by peeling it off of him like it was de-suctioning a leech from his torso. Neither the Sousuke nor the Ikuya touched him, and he would have been grateful for that were it not for the scrutinizing looks they gave him — both seemed more so curious than mean, and he probably wasn't looking at them any differently, but it was awkward. The Rin cried the most out of everybody, and it was rather loud about it and insisted on hugging Haru for a very long time, but no one came to peel it away like with the Nagisa, so he ended up self-consciously patting it on the back to try and ease its wailing.
He liked the Nao the most. It was the most polite and aware of his boundaries without having to ask. It shared its gratitude with sincerity and a respectful bow of its head, explaining what Haru's part in all of this truly meant to the rest of them — and he might not so openly admit that he was a bit touched by the things that it said. It was already clear that all of these humans truly cared about and loved his Makoto, but the Nao made him realize just how devastating it would have been for them, if he had never returned. Makoto had brought life and warmth and kindness into all of their lives, changing them as people and encouraging them all to be better, and without him they had been in pieces.
The Natsuya was a bit much — somehow even more so than the Nagisa and the Kisumi, and he couldn't explain how.
Makoto looked much more alive around his friends. Haru was admittedly comforted by that. Even though he cried even more and was still obviously tired, it seemed that being able to share his grief with the people he was closest to, who knew him the best, and who had also known his family, was a great balm for him, and Haru could see the very faint signs of healing beginning in him.
He was glad about it, grateful that Makoto wasn't just simply doomed to mourn for the rest of his days, but … It was tough to watch, difficult to swallow, hard to let go of the spreading itch. All of these people — all of these humans — knew his Makoto so much better than he did, had shared so much more of their lives with him, were so much better at understanding him and knowing what he needed to hear, and it was difficult to stand amidst them all, a literal fish out of water, knowing that they had so much more to give him than he did.
It wasn't fair of him to be jealous, not now when Makoto so clearly needed all of the love and consolation that he could get. But he felt so inadequate, and was left to stand there scratching at his elbows, praying to hear something from the sea, but it was so far.
The friends all lingered for a very long time, none of them seemed to want to let Makoto out of their sight now that he was back in it. They all went to eat at a restaurant at some point, and Haru was squished between the Nagisa and the Asahi, which was a very loud place to be, and he scratched furiously at his thighs underneath the table. Drinks were passed around, and the Natsuya went pink-cheeked very quickly. The ramen he ate was fine, but he was a bit devastated that there was no mackerel, and he found himself spiraling into a very intense home-sickness rather quickly because of it — thinking about his sea garden and the cherry trees. It was so warm with all the bodies around, his throat was going dry, but no amount of gulping down water fixed it. Also the water was disgusting — there were all kinds of impurities in it. It tasted like rust to him, but no one else seemed to have a problem with it.
The Kisumi touched his Makoto a lot. And even though rationally he could tell it was genuine harmless affection – same as it showed to literally everyone – he couldn't get the fire in his stomach to calm. Because all he could think about was that, once upon a time, that thing had shared a bed with his mate. His skin was crawling.
He didn't know how long they spent at the restaurant, but he would have stepped outside to get away from it all, if he'd been familiar with the territory. But every time he glanced to the windows over his shoulders, he saw even more, even stranger humans walking around on the sidewalks, and he couldn't fathom being in the midst of that either.
He just kept drinking all the rust-flavored water his body could get down until the humans started getting up from the table. They all left as a unit, like one big cloud gliding out of the door and onto the street, and then finally — with the moon bright overhead, the friends started scattering in different directions. They gave Makoto more hugs, gave Haru more hugs, said goodbye, waved all the way down the street, and then eventually it was them, the Nagisa, and the Rei left. Which was better, but still not quite comfortable.
The Nagisa and the Rei came back to the apartment with them, and the Rei spent a while explaining how they'd started to organize all of Makoto's belongings, which were mostly packed up in neatly labeled cardboard boxes and plastic bins. They'd left some clothing in the bedroom closet, and the bedding was still available for use, but for the most part, they'd gotten the job done, and Makoto seemed truly relieved about it.
They lingered around longer still, just simply talking, bringing up old memories, but also asking Haru about his life, which he kept to perfectly boring details. They asked him about his friends and were just as disbelieving as Makoto had been that he didn't have any, but declared even still that he had friends now.
He didn't know how to respond to that, so he just nodded.
It wasn't until well after midnight that they finally said their goodbyes, promising to be back around the next day, and Makoto shut the door behind them.
Haru had no idea how all of that seemed to have revived him rather than drain him of what little energy he'd had left. He looked significantly more lifted once he turned around and passed Haru a smile. He crossed back over to sit on the floor with him against the wall, leaning their knees together.
"That was a lot for you, huh?"
Haru turned his eyes to his lap and scratched at his wrist.
His Makoto hummed a light chuckle. "I know. It was a lot of new things and new people all at once." He placed his hand on Haru's leg, and slid it affectionately over his thigh, letting it eventually rest on his knee with a squeeze. "Thank you … For so graciously putting up with it all. You didn't even have to be here, but you stayed and came all the way to Tokyo with me. You're so much braver than I am."
"That's not true," Haru mumbled, picking at his fingers. "You've had to face a lot, and somehow you're still smiling."
Makoto hummed, thumb passing in circles over his knee. "There have already been several moments when I thought I wouldn't make it. This helped a lot though, seeing all of them again." He pulled in a deep breath and let it out evenly. "You've helped the most though."
"I haven't done anything."
Makoto's hand left his knee to sit under his jaw, turning his face so that they were looking at each other, and the sincerity and sureness of his Makoto's gaze unraveled some of the knots in his stomach.
"You are so far from home, following me wherever I go, keeping by my side, overwhelmed, and yet you haven't voiced a single complaint. I can see you, Haru. And I'll never be able to say how grateful I am. I don't think I could do any of this without you."
Haru pressed his lips to keep them from pouting, but it was difficult not to make a face. He turned his eyes away. "You could. You have a lot of friends who know you better than I do."
Makoto's thumb passed over his cheek with another hum. "And yet somehow not a single one of them knows me the way you do."
Haru glanced back and his Makoto smiled.
"Anyway, it's not really about that. You're a stronghold like no one else is, Haru. And you've been helping me face my fears for the past several weeks now. I know we haven't known each other long, but I can't imagine my life without you anymore."
Haru's heart beat particularly strongly in response to that, and a crease formed on his brow. Makoto's smile melted away and he brushed his thumb over his cheek again, eyes staring down at his lips.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said quietly, "back in the cave." He heaved a quiet breath. "When you were trying to stop me from being reckless … I told you I didn't need you, and that wasn't true."
He raised his gaze again, and Haru's throat tightened. He shook his head. "Stop apologizing," he whispered.
His Makoto smiled a sad smile, gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, and then pulled him close against his chest and held him for a while. Haru wrapped his arms around him and held him back.
The friends came and went across the next several days that they lingered in Tokyo. Sometimes, they went out to meet them places. Though, for Haru's sake, Makoto tried to keep the amount of time they spent out in the open, surrounded by other people, as minimal as possible, and Haru was grateful, but also felt intensely guilty about it. He didn't want Makoto to sacrifice anything for him, but his human insisted that he just as much could not get comfortable when Haru was overwhelmed.
But there were official things that Makoto had to do too, and Haru insisted on always going with him, because he knew Makoto didn't like to be alone. He had to quit his jobs, do more banking things, break the lease on his apartment, fill out change of address forms, the list carried on.
In the meanwhile, they were surrounded by boxes every time they were in the apartment, and there were several times that Makoto had to go fishing around for things, but the Rei seemed to have made finding the essentials easy.
It turned out that he didn't own more than a single pot for sometimes boiling water, and that drove Haru a little bit crazy. They went to restaurants and ordered "take-out" for nearly every meal, outside of eating sandwiches, and Haru was steadily growing sick of it.
He never seemed to shake the nausea from getting off of the plane actually. And as the days went on, the off-balance, slightly light-headedness just seemed to become a more present and permanent thing. The scratching was beginning to leave red marks on his skin, which had become also ashen and dry, and still no amount of water satiated his thirst.
Makoto's apartment didn't have a tub — and that above all things was the most grueling about being in the city. He couldn't soak, and it was difficult to maneuver in the shower with his tail. He had to use it during the daytime as much as he could, but he could feel the restless ache in his legs the longer that he went without his natural form. It was uncomfortable — more than so.
Seeking relief one night, he closed himself in the bathroom and sat on the tiled floor with the showerhead raining cold water on him, and it wasn't until then that he noticed the unnatural sheen of his tail. It wasn't its normal vibrant blue. It had become more of an off-putting green. He brushed his hand across it, and goosebumps rippled up his arms when his fingers came away covered in slime and brittle scales.
His stomach hurt immediately, but he took several deep breaths and didn't panic about it.
It didn't happen often, but this same thing tended to come around whenever he was sick. It was gross, and always the most uncomfortable process of trying to get the healthy blue shine back to his scales, which he tended to shed a lot of in situations like this. If he was at home, he would spend his days of recovery in the water, keeping low to the ocean floor and scrubbing his tail with sand at least twice a day. But that was quite impossible here — and he would not concern his Makoto with it.
He took a moment to make sure he was calm, and then cut off the water, and waited an abnormally long time for his legs to return. It was a bit shocking when they did, because the transformation also took longer than usual, and it was so painful that he had to bite his wrist to keep from crying out. It was still only a handful of seconds, but a handful of seconds that he was not used to, and he was left dizzy afterward, and had to take his time, pushing himself to his feet, which all of a sudden felt incredibly foreign to him.
He managed to make it out of the bathroom and was calmed a little when he noticed that every step felt more confident than the last, but he was still anxious about worrying Makoto, so he took his time to make sure he was fully composed again, before he walked up to where his human was reading out on the balcony.
"I want to cook something," Haru declared.
Makoto looked up, blinking at him from behind a pair of glasses that Haru was still getting used to. He was adorable as hell though.
"Okay," Makoto said, putting a place marker in his book and closing it. "We'll have to go to the store."
Haru nodded. "That's fine."
So that's what they did the next afternoon. The list that Haru made wasn't complete bullshit. He legitimately was sick of fried chicken, and instant noodles, and egg sandwiches, and was craving something fresh — most specifically mackerel — but he built his meal requirements entirely around needing an excessive amount of salt, and Makoto, who was still a novice at cooking (if that) didn't question it for a second.
Haru cooked happily in the new pan that his Makoto bought specifically so that he could. He made seared mackerel with ponzu stir fry and a mixed green salad, and his body thanked him greatly, as did Makoto, which eased a smile onto his lips for at least a little bit. They cleaned the kitchen together, and Makoto asked him if he wanted to watch an ocean documentary with him, so he agreed.
They cuddled up in Makoto's bed and watched it on Makoto's laptop. They'd done this already a few times, but Haru still found it fascinating. The documentary was amusing to him. They knew most of what they were talking about, but the majority of the names they'd given all the different species of deep marine life were just silly.
Makoto fell asleep twenty minutes before it ended, and Haru was glad for multiple reasons. His Makoto was still consistently haggard-looking and any moment that he managed to fall asleep on his own, Haru left him for as long as he could, because he knew he needed it — even though the times and places that he was finding to doze off had gotten incredibly random. But Haru was grateful to slip off of the bed undetected, easing the laptop onto the nightstand and covering his Makoto with the blanket, before he grabbed his bottles of salt and took them into the bathroom.
He sat under the shower, scrubbing at his tail for a solid two hours. He knew he wasn't being fair to Makoto's water bill, but he told himself he would make it up to him.
He lost a lot of scales, and many of them shattered in his hands along the way. The amount was disconcerting, but he had plenty, so there was no discernible difference when he finally called it quits. He'd done what he could for now, and his tail definitely looked much better, and the slime was mostly gone. He knew he'd have to keep this up as much as possible, but he was satisfied with where he was at now, so he cut the water off.
It still took far too long to get his legs back, and he was grunting through his teeth when they finally decided to make their lazy reappearance. His thighs were trembling in the aftermath, and he took another while yet to just sit there before he got up.
Makoto was sitting up in bed and raking a hand through his hair by the time Haru made it back into the bedroom. He looked up toward the door, and Haru gave nothing away.
"Did you take a shower?"
He nodded.
Makoto made a face, frowning a bit, and reached his arms out toward Haru, who obliged by crawling up onto the bed and allowing him to pull him onto his lap. It's not like it was odd, but he was a bit surprised, especially when Makoto nuzzled his forehead against his chest.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Haru blinked at him. "For what?"
"You've done so much for me, and I don't even have a bathtub for you to soak in."
Haru huffed out a breath and allowed himself to run his fingers through his hair. "Don't concern yourself with that."
"I am concerned though. You must miss being in the water."
"I do, but it's not like there's much you can do about that."
His Makoto went quiet for a minute, fingers picking absently at the back of his shirt, and just before Haru started to get concerned, he lifted his head and smiled. "I just had an idea."