Author's Note: Can't leave a story hanging. So going to try and finish this. Merry Christmas!

The Loneliness of Good Fortunes
Chapter Three

"Are you still mad that I didn't leave training when you asked me to?" Rin asked as he rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on his bed. Bottom bunk, underneath Haru's. He lined his wall with pillows and folded his arms behind his head as he sat across the cleanly folded sheets. "Good grief," he said under his breath, watching Haru shuffle back and forth across the room, throwing pillows and blankets and track pants. "Hey!" That's my stuff!" Rin sat up urgently.

Haru answered with throwing his own used jammers over his shoulder. They landed straight on Rin's head.

"Idiot," he hissed as he tore the suit off and held it in his fist. "What are you doing?"

"Did you take my phone?" Haru asked, his mouth in a tight line. Haru knew Rin to be immature, yes, but to be so cruel as to steal his phone?

Rin blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. "Why would I take your phone?" Haru stared at his face, trying to read him. He had never been good at reading Rin anyway.

"Give it to me. I need to make an important phone call," Haru said, more demanding this time. He prodded Rin's chest with his finger and closed his eyes in annoyance. He could just imagine Rin breaking out into his sharp-toothed grin. "I'm not messing around. Give it to me." Haru's hand snapped forward and gripped Rin's shirt.

"Let go of me," Rin said as he smacked Haru's fist away. "I don't have your stupid phone. You don't carry it on you anyway, so what fun would it be to steal it?"

Haru gave him a long, hardened stare, before finally he walked away without a word and continued to look through the mountain of clothes in the corner.

"Stop that!" Rin rushed over to Haru and grabbed his arm, pulling it with enough force that both boys tripped over a misplaced shoe. Haru looked back at Rin, anger building behind his usual monotonous eyes. Rin laughed behind his hand and shook his head. "You've been acting all weird. Did Yuusuke convince you to smoke some weed or something?"

"I just want my phone," Haru muttered, his cheeks bearing a red blush.

"Why?" Rin asked as he got up and extended a hand for Haru to take.

"I need to talk to Makoto." Haru inored his hand. He stood up, ignoring Rin's scowl, more focused on the lines of books and papers covering the computer desk. Maybe his phone was somewhere in there. He rushed towards it, lifting up scattered lined paper.

"Really? It's about time. You guys have been giving each other the silent treatment long enough."

Haru froze for a moment. Then turned his head to look over his shoulder, bangs falling across his vast forehead. "We've never fought."

"Yeah, you have. A pretty bad one too. I mean...you guys haven't talked in years."

Haru clenched his hands into fists. "Tell me what happened." His eyes averted as that blush crept along his cheeks. "Please."

Rin blinked again. "You honestly don't remember?"

Haru looked at him strangely. He turned back around and walked towards his bed and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. "I think it was during the fireworks festival? Right?" Haru just gave him a blank expression. He sighed and went on. "Makoto told you he was going to Tokyo and you lost it. Stopped talking to him. It was really pathetic to be honest."

"What?"

Rin had to have been lying. Or maybe, Haru bit his lip and felt a panicked flush sweep over his face, accepting the cat-demon's wish had altered the future as everyone else knew it too. A fight though? Makoto and Haru had never fought, and Haru assumed they wouldn't. Makoto was too sweet and Haru was too quiet. His stomach hurt as he swallowed the thickness in his throat. Where was his phone? He needed to talk to Makoto. Did he remember a fight?

"Yeah, everyone tried to get you two to talk. He even tried to talk to you during nationals, but it was like you weren't there. Then after school, he went to Tokyo and that was that." He raised a brow. "What changed? Why do you suddenly want to talk to him?"

"I just want to tell him that I'm sorry," Haru said as he ran his clammy hand over his forehead. His eyes bolted back and forth across the room. Where was his phone? Would Makoto accept his apology? He was sorry he agreed to the wish. All Haru wanted was to go back to things the way they were.

"Finally. It's been long enough. Hey by the way, are you all packed for tomorrow?" Rin asked, and Haru barely heard over the anxiety loud between his ears.

He looked up briefly. "What's tomorrow?"

"Oi!" Rin slapped his forehead. "Idiot. What's the matter with you? We're going to Iwatobi to see Sousuke."

Haru turned around quickly and snatched Rin's wrist.

"We're going to Iwatobi?"

"Yes?" Rin took his wrist back. "You knew that. Don't tell me you're not going." Again, Haru looked contemplative before he nodded.

"I'm going." His eyes flickered over the side, his eyebrows drawn together, and suddenly Haru jumped onto Rin's bed and reached under his pillow. "You told me you didn't have it!" He yelled as he held up his phone to Rin's face.

"I didn't!"

Haru gave him a long, cold stare before he rushed out of the room to make his call.

His heart beat in his chest, rang in his ears. Blood rushed to his face. Finally. He just hoped Makoto felt the same as he did. He hoped there was a way they could reverse the loneliness of this future. He tried turning it on. Nothing. Again, a few more clicks to turn it on. But the screen returned nothing but its blank, black smile. Haru's phone was dead.

–

"My pillow smells like you," Makoto said as he held his pillow to his nose and inhaled softly. Strawberries, vanilla. He placed it back behind his head and looked up the bottom of Kisumi's bunk above him. "It used to smell like Haru."

"Sorry?" Kisumi said. A few seconds later and he was peeking over the side of his bed with a feigned pout. "Maybe its time to forget about him. You guys haven't talked in what...seven, eight years?"

Makoto nodded, bit his lip. He remembered the first time Kisumi mentioned it. Makoto at least had enough sense to play along. He'd tried calling Haru, but of course, his phone was perpetually turned off.

"Don't look so upset," Kisumi said as he rolled over and climbed down from his bunk. He motioned for Makoto to scoot over and Makoto did, just as he always did. And just as he always did, he cupped Makoto's face with his palm and kissed him, deeply. Makoto was always hesitant, but it wasn't Makoto's timid nature as Kisumi believed.

Makoto pulled away first, as he always did. The familiar, overpowering scent of strawberry and vanilla shampoo. His whole world brightened in shimmering gilt; Kisumi's gold eyes. And Kisumi would talk, about anything and everything. Makoto didn't always mind, but sometimes, he missed the quiet he had grown accustomed to for years.

Sometimes, when Kisumi was busy at class, Makoto would dig through his drawer for the Good Fortunes card and hold it in his palm. It felt cool; like the cool, calm serenity at the bottom of a pool at night. Makoto wished to just float again with Haru at his side.

–

"You've never been on a plane before?" Rin asked, leaning over Haru so that he could catch a glimpse out the window as they flew back home, to Iwatobi, Japan. Haru leaned away, turned around and pressed his forehead against the small frame of glass. All Haru saw were clouds. Is that the sight Makoto saw as a child when he first tried backstroke? He finally felt himself relax.

"No," he said, plainly.

"What's wrong? You've been bummed out ever since practice," Rin reached over and touched Haru's shoulder. Haru was caught up in the feeling of lead weights on his feet and the unfamiliar sensation of opening his mouth to breathe and choking. Is that was competitive swimming was? Was the path to success a constant desire to swim while the water fought every step of the way? That wasn't free.

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for this," Haru said, eyes still watching the passing clouds below them.

"But you're the fastest swimmer we have on the team. How can you not be cut out for this?"

"I don't feel free."

Rin rolled his eyes and took his hand off Haru's shoulder. "You'll grow out of that eventually," he said, and his eyes glanced to the card Haru held tightly in his right hand.

Haru frowned and clutched the Good Fortunes card to his chest. "Wake me when we land," he said, his eyes closing as he tried not to think about that dull, choking feeling at his throat. Sometimes, Haru wasn't sure that feeling would ever really disappear.

–

Haru opened his eyes underwater, with a red, floating thread in his hands guiding him. He carved an opening and went forward, his feet moving along harsh, concrete. When Haru looked up, he swore he could see the shimmering orb of the moon or the sun dancing high above his head. The water's surface seemed so far from here. But he felt he could breathe down here.

He walked, blinked, and all of a sudden he stepped into another world. Iwatobi, Japan. Haru now looked up from the bottom of a cascade of steps. At the end: his house. The thread began to thrum to life, vibrate in his palms; an intensity in Haru's beating, beating heart.

He picked up the pace. Shadows passed him like marching men. The sounds of gusting wind and harsh waves. Haru walked faster. The water he heard began to settle into the soft rush of river water; the sound of splashing. His name being called. Worried, scared.

Haru ran now. A cold sweat collected at his brows.

He rushed through his front door to find that the thread now lay broken on the floor. He stopped, bent forward to pick it up and swallowed. No. Why was it broken? What had it been leading him to?

He looked around his empty house. Abandoned, just as he had left it. Until he walked into his bedroom and saw a taller, familiar figure standing there, hunched over in front of a small goldfish bowl.

"Makoto."

Makoto turned, surprised, then smiling. "Haru," he said and Haru thought that it must have been this place, wherever they were, that made his name sound like magic rolling of Makoto's tongue. "You found me, eh?" Makoto held out his palm where the other end of the red thread lay.

"I didn't know what I was looking for," Haru said as he blinked. He suddenly remembered the cat demon's words: "Follow the thread. It will lead you home."

"I don't like the future," Haru blurted out. "I want to go back?"

"Really?" Makoto asked, his upturned brows raised. "I would have thought it'd be everything you wanted." He smiled, tilted his head just slightly like a cat.

Haru frowned and shook his head quickly. "No. It's nothing I want."

"I'm sorry," Makoto said. He frowned and looked away at the goldfish, entrapped in the small, glass bowl. How odd that it seemed to mirror the outside world as if it was so easy to step through both sides. As if there weren't the glass between them.

Haru swallowed. "You don't like Tokyo?" He asked, hopeful, but he saw the way Makoto watched the goldfish. It was if he wanted to save it from its prison. Haru felt his stomach fall. Is that how Makoto felt around him? Trapped?

Makoto didn't answer for a moment and Haru looked away, flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh."

It seemed, for Makoto, that his choice to follow his Good Fortunes was the right one.

"I guess I will make the best of Australia," Haru said. He watched the way Makoto looked away and bit his lip, and for a second that seemed to spread out thin, Haru saw that one passing moment of inconsistency with Makoto's warm, confident eyes. "Maybe you don't want me to. Maybe you don't like this future either."

Makoto looked back over with a surprised blush dusted on his face and the way his brows raised high. He clutched at the collar of his flannel and smiled. "N-No. I just want you to be happy, Haru."

Haru's brows drew together. What would make him happy? What would make him happy? Had Haru ever really asked himself that question? All his life he had someone else to ask for him. To just know. But with the question at the forefront of his mind, it could only draw him forward like the pull of a compass.

What would make him happy?

Haru closed in on Makoto and cupped his hands with his face. Haru didn't feel the need to stop or slow down, despite the hesitation he saw in Makoto's eyes. He stood on his toes and kissed him, mouth open and wet against Makoto's full bottom lip.

Makoto pushed him away gently, arms locked as he held his hands against his shoulders. "Haru..." He was silenced by Haru's persistent press of his lips. Smaller but strong, Haru pushed Makoto back against the white walls, next to his dresser that held the small fishbowl that left dancing shadows against the matted floor.

Haru relaxed when Makoto kissed him back, sighed softly into Makoto's mouth. He liked the safeness he felt in the warmth of Makoto's cupped palm against his cheek and the way Makoto's other arm wrapped around his middle. He whined against his mouth, oh, he had dreamed of this moment so many times before. The hot, sticky mornings waking up in a tangle of sweat-crumpled sheets and tented pants.

His fingers curled into Makoto's plaid button-up. His nose bumped against the thick-framed glasses he wore. Haru pulled away—a string of saliva breaking apart from their lips—to remove the frames, but was stopped when Makoto grabbed his wrist. His lips were glossy; the jade of his eyes darkened behind the frames. "Haru..." Makoto began, but cast his eyes downwards, his eyes grazing across the plush of Haru's mouth. He pressed his hand to the small of Haru's back and pulled him close, mouth closing in again with the soft tangle of tongue. Haru pressed himself against that familiar body, moaned into his mouth, said his name against his bruised lips.

They kissed and felt each other in a way that was pure discovery. Learning the feel of the muscles, the taste of each other's mouth. After knowing each other for so many years, it was thrilling to learn more. Haru was willing to push this further, to gather as much knowledge to take back home with him to the real world. What did Makoto do when he's kissed there, right on the soft skin behind his ear, on his neck? What would he say in the throes of passion as Haru took his cock into his mouth? What would it taste like?

Haru reached for the button of Makoto's jeans until Makoto broke the kiss with a gasp and pushed Haru away gently.

"Haru, no, I...what was that for...?" He wiped at his mouth with the back of his fist, panting, flushed.

"I just...wanted to kiss you. So I did," Haru said, face turned red as he looked to the side at the floor. Makoto wanted to see him happy.

"I did too," Makoto said as he smiled. Haru looked at Makoto, and his face shifted like rippling water. Haru tried to blink it away but there was a shift in his smile. "I've wanted to do that for years." His words were muffled as if Haru's ears were covered by a fast, bubbling stream of water.

"Makoto?"

"Meet me again here, tomorrow," Makoto said with a smile as he reached forward to grab Haru's hand and when Haru reached forward he blinked and suddenly he was awake with Rin's hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

"We're here," Rin said.

Haru just stared at him, his heart pounding from the surprise of being shifted awake. He blinked, looked out the window to see the asphalt of the airport outside. He then looked down at his hand that still clutched the Good Fortunes card and yawned.

"You make weird noises in your sleep," Rin said with a laugh as he stood up and stretched his arms high above his head. "I swear you even got a boner while you were sleeping."

Haru glared at him. "Yeah right," he said with a wave of his hand. He stood up and yawned, rubbing at his eyes.

"Dreaming about me?" Rin teased.

"No. I don't remember having any dreams. I don't think I slept long enough," he said as he scooted out of the aisle and helped Rin gather their carry-ons out of the compartment above them as people scooted behind them.

"Home sweet home, huh? It's been a while," Rin said as he stepped out of the airplane with a smile.

Haru followed him and looked down at the Good Fortunes card still in his hand. He put it in his pocket. "It's not the same though," he said with a frown. Without Makoto, it wouldn't ever be.