"They're lovely people."
He blinked and turned his gaze away from where he'd been staring out at the horizon.
He was sitting in the sand on a beach he didn't recognize, arms folded around his knees, which were tucked up close to his chest. There was a pleasant breeze that blew through his hair, and the waves were calm and shining, but the smell of the sea wasn't present, which he found a bit odd. And for whatever reason, it was a detail that he was very acutely aware of.
There was a woman sitting next to him. A woman he'd never seen before, and yet he was sure he knew her from somewhere. She looked very familiar — in the shape of her face, the pallor of her skin, the deep blue of her eyes. She was silver-haired and aged, with knobby hands and crow's feet by her eyes, but there was youth in her smile, just as much as there was wisdom.
"Who?" he asked her.
She faced him with a charming twinkle to her gaze. "Your family."
He blinked at her. "Are they here?"
She nodded very vaguely and turned her eyes back to the sea. "Somewhere around here." Her smiled turned up in the corners. "The little ones insisted on a picnic today."
Some part of him felt like he should have been alarmed, or excited, or confused even, but he only seemed to manage being aware of what she was saying and believing her without feeling the need to jump up to run and find them. His family was having a picnic somewhere close by. They were probably having fun, and that was nice. He also turned his eyes back to the water.
"I think the sea chose well, don't you?" the woman asked. There was joy in her voice. It was also familiar, the way that she spoke, it sounded almost like a song.
"What did it choose?" he asked.
"You, my dear."
He looked back at her. "Me?"
She nodded and took his hand, giving it a pat. "Both such strong young men, so willing to sacrifice out of love, and yet so fearful of being alone. You have so much to overcome and even more to discover about one another even still, but there has never been a pair of souls quite so destined to intertwine in such a fantastic way, and I am most confident about that … Do you know, I remember the first time I saw you."
"We've met before?"
She smiled, still stroking his hand — her fingers were incredibly soft and cool to the touch. "In passing. You wouldn't remember. You were very occupied with what you were seeing in the water. And my little one was much too invested in the Umibōzu shrine. But you were there, in your boat, passing over us, and I remember your tiny little hands and big curious green eyes. I believe you'd noticed your guardian."
"My guardian?" Makoto asked, head tilted. "You mean the orca?"
She nodded.
He thought about it, and the more her fingers pressed into his hand, the more he felt like he remembered. "I was … seven."
She nodded with an encouraging hum.
"We went out sailing, and there was a baby orca swimming underneath us. I watched it the whole time. That was my first time that far out on the water. I had never seen one before … You were there?"
"I was. We both were."
He didn't ask who "we" was. It didn't occur to him to. What she said just simply made sense, and he thought it was an interesting coincidence.
"Coincidence is a throw-away term, my child," she said. "It's nothing more than fate in disguise."
He didn't ask her how she knew what he was thinking, and it didn't alarm him either. It just made sense, as everything else did, and there was no need to be concerned about it. No need to even be curious. What it was was what it was, and he found he was rather fond of letting it all be that way. It was much easier to accept, to be at peace with.
"I am sorry for all of the burdens that have been given to you," she said, squeezing his hand this time, and there was a profound shine to her eyes when she spoke these words, as though she truly meant them, and he didn't question that either. "But you'll be okay, won't you."
He nodded with her, aware that this was a truth that would follow him wherever he went. He would be okay. It would all be okay.
She lifted another smile. "Will you do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"My Haruka has lost his faith in the sea. I need you to return it to him."
"Me?"
She nodded.
"How should I do that?"
She chuckled warmly and gave his hand one final pat. "You'll know. Take care of him for me."
He had no further questions, so he nodded, and she stood to step into the water. He watched her wade out waist deep and then turn back to him with a smile. The flash of a sea green tail flicked very briefly above the surface, and then disappeared back out of sight.
"You can wake up now," she sang.
He opened his eyes and his lungs breathed in as though they'd stopped for a moment. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking, processing, perplexed by the odd sense of peace flowing through him, tingling in his fingertips. It lingered as within the time it sometimes takes to rejoin the conscious world after being so deeply rooted in a dream. The lines of reality all blurred and it took a while for the quiet to ebb away, for the present to come back and remind him that he was home in Iwatobi and his family was not.
It didn't gut punch him as he might have expected it would, but rather was an aching weight that very slowly and mindfully settled itself back down on his heart. He exhaled, saddened by its return, but there was a new acceptance in him that hadn't been there before. It was tender and still budding, but there, and it gave him the smallest sense of relief, realizing- knowing that even though he'd lost so much, in the end, he was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.
"How you feeling, bunny?"
Kisumi's face popped up over his, hovering upside down. His eyes were bright with both hope and concern, and Makoto found himself grateful that they'd decided to remain friends.
"I'm okay," he said, quiet but certain, and Kisumi smiled.
"Feel like eating breakfast? Your angel wanted to cook for you this morning."
"Haru?" he said, sitting up, just then remembering that they had all camped out in the living room. The state of it was quite a sight, but he was comforted by the lingering presence of all the people he loved.
Asahi and Natsuya were still knocked out in their respective corners. Everyone else seemed to have started their day already.
He just barely noticed Kisumi stroking out his bedhead for him. "He's such a doll," he said with a wispy giggle, speaking of Haru who was in the kitchen with Nagisa, still working on whatever they were cooking. "I'm pretty sure he hates me."
Makoto coughed out a chuckle, leaning back on his palms. "Maybe a little bit, but I wouldn't take it personally."
Kisumi hummed, still dragging his fingers through his hair. "I don't. He's a good egg. Very determined to protect you, and I find that adorably chivalrous. I'm grateful for him … He seems a bit under the weather though."
With this he tilted his head and looked to Makoto, who nodded. "He's … never really been away from home for this long. I think it's getting to him."
Kisumi poked out his lip with a pouting coo. "Aww, poor honey." He sighed very heavily and dropped his hand to squeeze Makoto's shoulder. "Bunny, this man loves you very much. I hope you see it as clearly as the rest of us do."
Makoto's cheeks went warm with a blush, but he nodded. "Yeah … I think I do."
"I don't think I really need to tell you to, but treat him well, yeah?"
He gave Kisumi a tender smile and placed a hand on top of his to give him a small squeeze in return. "Yeah. And you be nice to Asahi."
Kisumi scoffed a giggle as he stood. "I'm always nice to him."
"Sure you are."
He chuckled when Kisumi picked his way through the maze of futons, directly up to Asahi, and yanked the blanket off of him with a loud, "Wake up, bitch! You're wasting daylight!" He gave him a kick in the butt and Asahi groaned into his pillow, turning his head the other way.
Kisumi gave Makoto a wink over his shoulder, then swatted at Natsuya and said, "You too, you sack of potatoes. Haru's cooked us a lovely meal, and you two are being horribly rude."
It took a while yet for Asahi and Natsuya to join the rest of them for breakfast, and even when they did, Asahi was nodding off into his soup bowl.
They decided to spend the day simply being friends and enjoying their time together, since it would be coming to a close soon. They went to a movie, perused through the mall, went out for lunch, and then returned back to the house and spent their evening sipping on drinks and playing video games. It was loud and a bit rowdy, but Makoto was comforted by it. It reminded him of his siblings, but in a good way, and he was glad that there were still people in his life to fill the silence in that manner.
It was hard to start saying goodbye to them. They left in small groups, just a few at a time. Natsuya, Nao, and Ikuya left the next morning. Rin and Sousuke left behind them that evening. Asahi and Kisumi left the morning after that, and Rei and Nagisa stayed for just one more day, adamant about making absolutely sure that Makoto had what he needed and was in a safe place emotionally. He assured them that he would be okay, and thanked them for everything — for probably the millionth time — and they reminded him that he was always welcome to crash with them whenever he wanted to visit Tokyo, and that they, along with everyone else, would jump on a plane in a heartbeat to come and see him when he needed it. They also told Haru that they were happy to have met him and were glad that he'd joined the group, and Nagisa made a point to tease him about getting used to having company around, because they weren't going to let him be so shy next time.
Makoto suspected that Haru had warmed up to Nagisa at least a little bit by then, and was happy to see him respond a bit more comfortably. He didn't say much, but there was some kind of tolerance in him, understanding that Makoto's friends were a large part of his life. And to see him so willing to accept them, even despite how very human they were, it made Makoto fall in love with him all the more.
They saw Nagisa and Rei off at the airport, and then returned to a quiet house.
He'd been a bit anxious that once all of his friends left, there'd be nothing but a haunting emptiness in the house, but that turned out not to be true. All the warmth and love they'd brought with them seemed to have a lasting permanence and it lingered even in their wake. He was grateful, both for the time that he'd been able to spend with them, and for now having the space to be alone with Haru.
He closed the front door behind them, and watched Haru's back as he dragged his feet down the hall. He followed him into the living room, and watched him throw himself bonelessly onto the couch, eyes already closed, breath leaving his body in one weak sweep.
He was struggling. It was written all over his body. It was obvious now, how translucent and dry his skin had become, how fiercely his lungs were having to fight for air. His eyes were dulling in color, and there were dark circles underneath them. Everything about him seemed so brittle and frail, and the knot in Makoto's stomach had grown to the size of a cantaloupe, watching the decline.
He'd been trying to convince Haru to step away and visit the beach all this while, but he'd been refusing — with such great steadfastness in fact that Makoto was no longer sure which one of them was truly afraid of the sea anymore.
A part of him felt guilty for trying to push him, because he could see the resentment that Haru was harboring for the ocean, and he knew it had been rooting itself in him, deeper and deeper every day that he'd sat or stood by watching Makoto grieve over his family, watching his range of sadness and distress and only having further cause to dismiss the home that he so badly needed.
Makoto himself was still holding onto similar feelings. They'd just been muted underneath everything he'd had to deal with since they'd left the island and washed up in Iwatobi. But it was difficult to push past those things even still, to ignore them, to forgive what the sea had done and so easily accept that what was was for the best. But he knew that he had to, and more than that, he wanted to, because if he could get past it, then Haru could too. And for Haru it wasn't an option.
He drifted around the couch and sat on the edge next to Haru's hip, reaching out to brush his hair back from his forehead. He was unusually warm.
"Haru?"
Haru opened his eyes a crack and looked up at him.
"Can- … Can I take you somewhere tomorrow?" he asked carefully. "It won't be super far, and we'll come right back here. There's … just something I want to show you."
Haru seemed too exhausted to question much right now. He was quiet for a moment, but once that moment ended, he just simply nodded.
Makoto held onto the relief, and allowed himself a small smile. "We'll have to take the train. Is that okay? Just the local one. There won't be as many people."
He seemed a bit more hesitant about that, but he was apparently well cognizant enough to see all the pleading in Makoto's eyes, so he nodded again, swallowing thickly. "We'll come back here?" he asked.
His voice was terribly soft, and the melody in it was so hard to hear anymore. It clenched at Makoto's gut with worry, but he wanted to ease Haru back to the water as much as he could — the way that Haru had done for him.
There was a beach that was a little more tucked away and private on the other side of town. He'd never seen anyone else there, all the times that he'd visited as a teenager. He was hoping that taking Haru away from all the buildings and the people would help him feel more comfortable, would encourage him to embrace the sea again. If Haru wanted to put up a fight when they got there, then he could, but Makoto was sure he'd win, even without Haru being so handicapped at the moment. All he needed was for Haru to be willing to go with him.
He nodded. "Yes, we'll come right back here after I show you. I promise."
He wanted to take him there now. But it had already been a long day, and at this point he wasn't sure if Haru even had it in him to stand for very long, so he tried to be patient, and didn't ruin anything by making concerned faces.
"Okay," Haru said, eyes drifting close again.
Makoto stayed silent, watching him breathe for a while, willing his lungs to keep going. He tried not to let the fear crawl up his throat, and closed his own eyes, praying to the gods — to the sea itself even — that they would keep Haru well, that they would give him time to bring him back to the water.
He decided to trust them, the sea most especially. If it was willing to so drastically change both of their lives to bring them together, then he had at least some kind of faith that Haru was favored and being carefully watched over — there was no way not to at this point.
So he let Haru sleep and build up his strength for the next day, and he did what he needed to do in order to prepare them — even packed lunches and plenty of water for the trip there. Nagisa and Haru had worked together to stock the refrigerator with plenty of precooked meals to live off of for the next week or two, and he was more than grateful for that just now.
As nice a gesture as it would have been to attempt cooking a thoughtful meal for Haru again, he wasn't sure he'd be able to effectively pull it off in the same way this time.
He went through the house, picking up what little bit had been left behind from all of the visitors, and then, after checking on Haru one more time, decided he didn't want to move him, and laid himself down on a futon at the foot of the couch. He watched him breathe in the dark for another long while, and then took his hand and kissed the back of it. He never let go of it, and he fell asleep holding it to his cheek.