A/N: Hi everyone! Once again, and as always, thank you so much for your patience. It was a long wait this time, approaching one year. A lot has happened to me in this past year. The biggest thing being I landed myself a job that I couldn't have even dreamed of having a year ago. I'm busier than I've been in a very long time, but also happier than I've been in years. I'm twenty-five now, and I began writing this fic when I was…twenty-one? I've changed a lot over these years, and the course of this fic has changed alongside that, though the core, the heart of it, has remained much the same.

Adulthood and life is still a very big, complex, overwhelming, scary thing for me, and I don't think I'll ever truly know what I'm doing. That anxiety, the feeling of being overwhelmed and confused and daunted by growing up, is something I wanted to address in this fic through Haruka's journey from the very beginning. And now I feel like I'm in a place in my life where I can truly finish up this fic in a meaningful and honest way. There are four more chapters to go, with the wiggle room an outline allows for. I hope you're looking forward to the end of Haru's journey in Long Distance, because I am, and I'm so excited for the ending I have planned.

For those of you who have stuck with me this long, thank you! For those of you who have stuck with this fic for any length of time, thank you! Anybody new – thank you! Thanks for reading my writing and leaving comments. As a writer, there is nothing that makes me happier than knowing that a piece of my writing has resonated with readers, that it's meant something to them, some sort of solace or enjoyment, maybe guidance, maybe just some laughs or smiles or tears or feels. I love writing, and writing this fic has been one of the most rewarding (albeit tiring at times) experiences of my life. So, once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and let's get back to business!

Chapter Nineteen: Horizon (Summer-Fall-Winter interlude)

I'm here, Rin texts when he lands. It arrives at six in the morning, and Haruka sees it at seven.

Good morning, he texts back, getting out of bed, necklace dangling from his neck. He slips it under his shirt, the weight of it new and distracting, but he already feels so protective of it.

The reply comes when he's tying his shoelaces. More like good afternoon. What are you doing right now?

Running. Then going to work.

Okay, Rin says. I'll text you later.

Haruka thinks of the sticky note on his desk, and feels a flurry in his chest. One part excitement, two parts Was I supposed to say it back? But no, no. He's not ready. Rin will understand.

He opens the door and steps into the tepid air, lets his lungs expand with it. The necklace thumps against his chest as he runs, an answering knock to the beat in his chest. There's time, there's plenty of time, to figure out a reply.

In the meanwhile, they keep texting. They don't have conversations every single day, but Rin is busy and Haruka makes himself as busy as possible. Sometimes a Good morning or a Sleep well is the extent of things. It's more than enough on the busiest days.

The summer rains come to an end, leaving things smelling musty for a while, and then even their afterthought is gone from the air. So too ends the first session of swimming lessons. All of Haruka's favorites continue on for a second session – Kasuko with her butterfly earrings, Asuka and Chou with their twin goggles (but Haruka can tell the girls apart by now), Taiki who still tries to direct the lessons as much as ever, and timid Noboru who learns slowly but surely. Mei – who seems to have lost a new tooth every week – and her friend Yumiko have moved up from the beginner to intermediate level, and are exceptionally proud of themselves.

"They all asked to be grouped with you," Kaji-san tells Haruka with a wink, as Haruka's on his way out one afternoon. "You've sure got yourself a little bunch of admirers."

Hiro ends up back with Zaki, which means Haruka gets to ignore her teasing that Hiro likes her better.

Between lessons, Haruka practices with Zaki and Amano, and some of those days Shimamura shows up and gets in the pool with them, or just bugs them into getting lunch with him. Now that Shimamura's on summer break, on the days he doesn't coach lessons, his dance crew meets in the gym during public hours to work on their routines.

"It was really painful," Shimamura pouts today, bottom lip stuck out in exaggeration, the corners of his mouth glistening with plum sauce. It's one of the days they're all at lunch together and Shimamura has inhaled three of the plates of food they're all meant to be sharing. He's dyed his hair recently – a vivid, magenta pink, like new spring flowers or a dollop of cake frosting. It's so eye-catching it almost hurts. It's very fitting.

"Oh no, you poor thing," Zaki deadpans at him through a mouth of cold noodles.

"Amano, it looks painful, right?" Shimamura asks, holding his arm out over the table. His elbow is bright red, soon to bruise black and blue. Haruka had caught a few glimpses of his crew practicing today, of Shimamura doing some truly gravity-defying moves, all sharp popping and locking and practically throwing his body through the air and against the floor.

"It does," Amano says, in that low voice of his that makes it so hard to tell if he's being serious or not.

"Thank you," Shimamura breathes out, pleased to finally have some consolation. He grins. "You know what would make it feel better?" He sticks his elbow beneath Zaki's nose. "A kiss!"

She makes a face, truly disgusted but also just for show.

"Eh? Eh? No?" Shimamura sticks his arm toward Amano again. "Amano?"

Amano reaches for a dumpling, tucking a lock of hair gracefully behind his ear with his other hand so it doesn't trail in the food. "Ask Nanase," he says. Shimamura sighs.

Later, they go their separate ways at the train station, and Haruka rides home thinking once again about how much he likes them, likes being their friend, likes that they like him too.

So the days pass pretty okay.

I love you, the note says, every day Haruka looks at it (which is every day). The butterflies calm after the third or fourth day, because as monumental as the characters are, they become just that – characters on a green post-it note. It's when he thinks of them in Rin's voice, or when he thinks of what Rin must have looked like scrawling them in the dark, the look Rin must have had on his face when he stuck it to Haruka's forehead – it's thinking of those small, soft things that makes the flurry in Haruka's chest and the pit of his stomach come alive again.

I love you, the note says. Sometimes, in moments before he catches himself, he touches the pad of his finger to the writing, but it doesn't feel like anything underneath his skin.

He puts the note on his desk, then in his desk drawer, then back on his desk, then beneath a notebook. He likes seeing it, but seeing it makes him nervous. He still hasn't replied. But he and Rin text (I just bought ice cream, Rin says. Eat it carefully. Don't hurt your teeth, Haruka sends back. Okay, dork, Rin replies, and Haruka smiles to himself for minutes on end). Even though he knows it isn't something you can really tell over text, it doesn't seem like Rin is waiting for a reply.

Summer continues to pass. The note becomes dog-eared and worn, like a treasure made smoother with age and handling.

Rei visits for a few days at the end of July, all the hustle and bustle of a quick visit before he has to return to Tokyo for some summer research project with a select group of first-year students over the break. He stays long enough for Nagisa's birthday, though, and this is the most important thing of all.

It's after a lot of food, when they're all slumped on the floor at Haruka's place, during Rei's story about how he got lost in the bio-chem branch of one of the new buildings on campus a few weeks ago, that Nagisa pipes up, "Haru-chan, isn't that Rin-chan's?"

He's pointing at the necklace that has slipped out of the collar of Haruka's shirt, and he's all round-eyed innocence that Haruka can see right through – that smile has just too much of a perceptive edge to it.

"Oh," Haruka says, and because he doesn't want to bother thinking of a lie, he says simply, "Yeah, it is."

There's just a split-second, not even of silence, but of the gears in all their brains working. He almost wishes someone would ask, but he doesn't know exactly what, and he knows it'd be mortifying anyway. Gou is there, after all. Her head is cocked to the side, a slight crinkle on her forehead. A look that says Huh, how curious.

But then the split-second is over and Nagisa lets out a little "Hm" sound, kind of intrigued and amused but not interested enough to push it (or at least he's pretending, so he can smoothly change the topic).

Gou watches Haruka a lot more for the rest of the day. He probably shouldn't have worn the necklace, but Rin asked him to. He doesn't think it'd be a big deal if their friends found out, but he can't help the slightest what-if of worry.

When Gou and Nagisa head off later, their two petite forms heading down the stairs together, shoulders knocking, Rei stays behind for a bit. He mostly helps clean up even though Haruka says he doesn't have to, but it's comfortable having him around.

After things are tidied up, they head back outside to sit on the steps and stare down at the ocean. The sun is starting to sink, reflected as a great orange globe on the darkening water's surface. Haruka and Rei sit side by side, in a silence that has settled easily.

Finally, Rei says, "It's really odd, being back here. I never realized how quiet it was until I got used to Tokyo's noise."

"That sounds like a headache," Haruka says.

Rei laughs, closed-mouth and quiet. "Actually, it really isn't. It's alive, and somehow, it's home." He looks at Haruka, glasses catching the late light. There's a smile on his lips. "I actually think you might like it, Haruka-senpai."

Haruka thinks he's out of his mind, but doesn't say so.

Makoto leaves for his exchange at the end of August, with little fanfare. His flight is early in the morning, and Haruka goes running a little earlier than usual to be able to say goodbye. They cross paths on the stairway, the sky hazy with early light, the sea fresh. Haruka's going up, breathless, and Makoto is coming down with his mom, nervousness and excitement all over him. They look at each other for a moment, and then Makoto drops his bags and pulls Haruka into a hug.

"Have a safe flight," Haruka says into a faceful of Makoto's jacket.

"That isn't really up to me," Makoto says, sounding amused and pulling Haruka in tighter.

Haruka props his chin on Makoto's shoulder, shutting his eyes for a moment. Makoto turns his head, nose pushing against the side of Haruka's neck. Haruka's heart misses one beat, and this is a moment of panic – the thought that Makoto won't be here if, when, Haruka needs him. Makoto will be gone, an ocean away, and Haruka will be the only one left. He won't be able to just walk over and knock on Makoto's door and have him appear there on the other side.

For a moment, a fathomless pit of isolation opens beneath Haruka's feet. But then Makoto squeezes him tighter still, grounding him.

It'll be fine, he tells himself.

And then, like Makoto can read his mind, he says to Haruka, "Don't worry about yourself too much when I'm gone."

"I will," Haruka says. He hears and feels Makoto's chuckle. "Don't worry too much, either," he says back. "And have fun."

Makoto pulls back, gives him an anxious little smile. "I'll do my best."

Makoto flies away, and a few days later Zaki tries out for and makes it onto the swim team she's been eyeing. Haruka feels happy for her, and inadequate, and the voice inside of him that's terrified of falling behind grows more frightened still.

Summer lessons come to an end about as soon as they started, the second session seeming to span as long as it takes for Haruka to blink once. He gets offered a job doing after school swim lessons during the school year, and tells Kaji-san he'll think about it. That gives him a couple of weeks.

That night, he gets back in the tub for the first time in a very, very long time. It doesn't give him any clarity. The water grows tepid, then cold. He lifts his hand out, watches the water stream through his fingers until there's a shallow pool in his palm, which he tips over and lets splash back into the tub. The drip-drop echoes but offers little solace. He wonders if this means he's grown up, or grown jaded, or some awful combination of the two.

Rin would know what to say. Haruka misses him. Misses his presence, his voice, his laugh. Misses his arms, the feel of them around him. Misses his mouth, hot and slick. He misses the pink of Rin's cheeks when they've been kissing.

He lets himself slip under the water, so that his ears fill with that muffled, other-worldly sound of nothingness.

I love you, the note says, once more on the corner of his desk, when he returns to his room.

Before going to bed, he takes out his phone and types, I want to see you. He sends it to Rin, then dives into bed and doesn't check for a response until the next morning.

The laptop has lived at the bottom of his desk drawer since he started at the community college, which really does feel like a lifetime ago. It's been so long since he last used it, but before he knows it the video call is up and running, the screen black and the dial tone tolling, until…

"Hey," Rin says.

His image pops up a moment later. He looks tired, some shadows under his eyes but not too bad. A thin sweater, low cut and draping attractively from his shoulders. A beanie in his hair. He's in his room, looks like he's just returned from class. He looks cozy, and Haruka's already smiling.

"Hi."

"What's up?" Rin asks, sweeping the beanie off his head, and then sweeping his hand through his hair, pulling it back off his forehead.

Just seeing him puts Haruka at ease. He suddenly doesn't want to bring up any worries, doesn't want to talk about things, just wants to talk. And if this isn't a sign that he's grown up and grown different, he doesn't know what is.

"Nothing much," he says. "It's just quiet around here."

"Really? I'd expect Ren and Ran to be barging into your place all the time, now that they don't have Makoto around to keep them in check."

Haruka snorts out a laugh. "That hasn't happened yet."

"I talked to Makoto the other day," Rin says, scrubbing his hand through his hair again, then down his face. Haruka wants to reach through the screen, touch his cheeks, cup them in his palms. "His English is already getting better."

"Soon you'll be able to hold secret conversations in front of me."

"Hardly," Rin says. "No offense to him."

"How's swimming?"

Rin's face lights up. "Meets are starting up soon. The team looks great –"

There's a noise off-screen, something like a click or a clatter, and Rin looks over and sighs. Suddenly, a familiar face pushes Rin out of the shot, and a dimpled smile fills the screen.

"Who is it?" Mark asks (and Haruka understands this much), before letting out a short laugh of recognition. "Oh, Haruka!" he says, with a soft R and a loud exclamation. And then it's babble Haruka doesn't understand until Rin pushes Mark out of the shot and grimaces at Haruka.

"I ended up with this idiot as a roommate again."

Mark asks a question, stooped over behind Rin, hands on the back of his chair. He keeps nudging Rin's shoulder, his grin one of truly Nagisa-like proportions.

"Ignore him," Rin says a little bit desperately. "He's just a pain in the ass, as always."

"Did you ask to room with him again?" Haruka asks.

Still looking pained, Rin says, "A moment of poor judgement."

Haruka snorts. Mark asks several questions, shaking Rin back and forth by the shoulders. Rin's head is in his hands.

Once Mark is gone, Rin lets out the longest sigh Haruka's ever heard, but the corners of his mouth fight a smile. He's tired, but he's happy. Haruka's heart feels warm.

Warmer still when Rin folds his arms on his desk, rests his chin on them, and says plaintively, "Haru, I'm breaking out."

"What do you mean?"

"My face. Look." Rin points to two red bumps on his forehead, one on his cheek. "Like, this doesn't happen to me."

"Are you stressed?"

"I don't even know! Like, not any more than usual, I don't think." Rin burrows his chin in his arms, sulky.

"You still look nice," Haruka says. "I still like your face."

"Good," Rin mumbles. "Because I don't."

Haruka rolls his eyes. "Your face is cute." It wins him the corner of Rin's smile, just peeking above his arms.

"Yeah?"

"Just a little bit."

Rin buries his entire face in his arms, ears visibly pink despite the connection's less than perfect picture quality. Haruka's entire body feels so light.

They talk about nothing much for a long time, and it's so, so easy. When they say goodbye, that's miraculously easy as well. Rin smiles, and waves, and cuts the connection, and Haruka's already looking forward to the next time.

That night, he goes over to the Tachibanas' and rings the doorbell. The twins are ecstatic, and invite him inside to play video games and watch TV with them, and once dinner rolls around Haruka is invited to stay longer. It's an evening that passes so pleasantly, the events of it are one blur of happiness in his head that, when he gets back to his room that night, he can't pick apart from each other.

And there, on his phone that he left on his desk, is a text from Rin:

Good night.

He accepts the job, and gets a raise on top of it. He still does stuff around the rec center on days he doesn't lead lessons – office work, cleaning, organizing, helping plan events. It keeps his body busy and his thoughts occupied, but it still doesn't feel quite right.

He and Makoto talk, free long distance calls through their messenger apps, when Makoto's on his way to class in the mornings. Makoto says the town he's staying in is similar to Iwatobi in the sense that it's quiet, but different in the sense that he just has to walk a little while, maybe fifteen minutes, and he's in the city, and just a little while longer still to really be in the thick of it.

He says it's a chillier October in England than in Iwatobi. The air smells like trees rather than the sea, smells smokey after rainfall. They usually talk as Haruka's heading down the steps for his run, and he'll often sit at the bottom for a little while as they catch up. Makoto enjoys his classes, enjoys the people, enjoys the food, though there's a little bit of homesickness in everything. Mostly excitement, he assures Haruka, and then, as an afterthought: "Don't try fish pie, though."

Haruka listens to Makoto's soft voice on the line and imagines cobblestone streets, stone walls with vines crawling slowly over them, narrow houses shouldered together, the persistent smell of oil and dust on damp roads, the cool caress of gray-skies on his cheeks. He doesn't really know if any of this is England, but there's a magical, mystical feel to everything he hears so these are the images Makoto's tales evoke in his mind.

Sometimes he has dreams of these places – quiet lanes turning suddenly into the middle of a bustling city that looks a lot like Tokyo. Or he'll dream of sitting on the steps outside of one of those narrow houses, stately bricks at his back, smoke puffing out of a fireplace and rain clouds puffing by overhead.

Tonight it's a Tokyo dream. He walks down the steps from his house, walks past the beach, following an inexplicable feeling that he just has to walk. The lights in the windows guide the way, floating among the darkness. His dream self knows that even if he turns around, he'll end up in the same place regardless, so he follows his feet to the train station. The train arrives without a sound, just a warm gust of air as it speeds to a stop, and the glow of its window lights. The doors open silently. His feet on the steps are silent.

And then he's in the middle of a busy intersection flooded with pedestrians. He can only be surprised for one second, because again, he feels the need to walk, so walk he does. There still isn't any noise, but the sight of everything is loud. So many people moving, so many signs flashing, so many windows glinting. Street performers play their instruments and do their dances to mute soundtracks, but Haruka's head is so full of sound.

He wakes up to the dead of night, and the faint rush of the ocean. He feels so awake that he gets out of bed without a second thought, his feet touching down on the cool floor. A glance at his phone says that it's a little after four in the morning – a little after eight in the evening for Makoto.

Without pausing to think about it, Haruka sends him a message – Are you busy?

Makoto doesn't text back as quickly as Rin ever does, but it's still only a few minutes later, as Haruka is nibbling on a piece of toast in the kitchen, that his phone buzzes on the counter and the screen lights up.

Nope, just finished my homework.

Haruka calls him, and this time it's only seconds later than Makoto replies. A warm, amused, "Good night, Haru."

Haruka rolls his eyes, breathes his laugh into the speaker, and heads outside, a light jacket donned.

The ocean is at one of its high tides, waves crashing in and rushing back out, sucking the sand with it. Haruka sits at the bottom of the steps facing the beach, slightly chilled by the night air. On the way down he told Makoto about the dream, about the last few days, about nothing much but Makoto can always tell what's on his mind.

"I thought I told you not to worry about yourself," Makoto says, sounding like he's smiling, but the smile he uses to try to hide his concern, which only makes it more obvious.

"I'm not," Haruka says. "Not really. Not worrying."

"No great moments of enlightenment?"

Haruka kicks a pebble from between his feet, the sole of his shoe scuffing on the concrete. "No, nothing like that."

Makoto hums. "I haven't had any either, if that makes you feel better."

"I'm not worrying," Haruka reiterates. He breathes in the sea air, finds it so soothing even after all these years of living beside it. "I'm just, I don't know…"

"Bored?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Try something new?"

They both chuckle at that. "Revolutionary advice," Haruka says.

"Sorry, I wasn't prepared to give advice tonight."

"Good." Haruka leans back against the steps, lets his legs sprawl out before him. "I don't want any. How's England?"

"It's good. Cold. Different. I feel very worldly."

"You and Rin have that in common now."

Makoto laughs.

Haruka yawns, head tipping back because of the knee-jerk tears that form in his eyes. It suddenly feels like four in the morning, his head heavy and eyelids heavier.

Makoto talks a bit more about his day at school, and Haruka mumbles some replies until Makoto tells him that he really should get back to sleep.

"Where are you, by the way?" Makoto asks. "I keep hearing something in the background."

"I'm down by the beach. I was walking down when I called you. It's high tide."

Makoto sighs. "I miss the ocean."

"You're on another island," Haruka points out, through another yawn. And then he yawns out, "Just go to the nearest beach with some friends."

"Haru, seriously, go to bed. You're making me feel guilty."

"No I'm not," Haruka says, but he gets to his feet nonetheless. His limbs are leaden as they carry him back upstairs. He mumbles out his goodbye and hangs up at his door. Inside, he's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

In the morning he hardly remembers the call, but he feels that inexplicable tug, like he needs to follow his feet somewhere only, in his wakefulness, they don't know where to go.

"So," Zaki says, twirling up some udon noodles. She slurps them, takes several moments to chew and swallow. Dabs at her mouth with the back of her wrist. "So, how's life?"

"I don't know," Haruka says. He twirls up some ramen noodles, slurps them, takes several moments to chew and swallow. "It's fine doing more lessons for now, but…" He shrugs, and Zaki hums in understanding.

It's a Saturday, so the restaurant is fuller than average, families and friends enjoying the good weather and a bite to eat. The trees are turning color and the air is still warm, though sometimes a breeze whips up over the sea, a surprising burst of freshness to remind them all what's coming soon. Haruka eyes the horizon a lot more these days, not looking for winter but just looking far away, thinking about distance in general and his quiet existence in Iwatobi, and maybe just starting to realize he feels caged by all that peace and quiet.

"How's the swim team?" he asks, tearing his gaze away from the window.

Zaki finishes up another mouthful of udon, rubs her wrist across her mouth. She doesn't mind the silence between them, doesn't mind him spacing out. He likes that about her, that she doesn't need to talk.

"It's nice," she says. "It feels weird being on a team again, but nice." She shrugs. "We're not that good, but…"

"Are you the best on the team?"

She grins. "You better fucking believe it."

There's a flurry of greetings from the entrance, heralding Shimamura and Amano's arrival. Shimamura blusters up to the table, pink hair like a flurry of flower blossoms through the restaurant. Amano follows a few paces behind, hands in his pockets.

The first thing Shimamura says, after dropping down into the chair beside Haruka, is "You didn't get pork!"

And Haruka forgets, for a while longer, the urge to follow his feet somewhere he doesn't know.

Weeks pass and pass and pass. It's amazing how quickly time goes by despite feeling so slow in the day-to-day. One moment, it's the beginning of October. The next, mid-November. Maybe it's the sameness of the days that make them pass by so quickly. Nothing distinguishing one from the other, the easy slip of routine, blurring time into an inevitable sliding-by thing.

The text from Rin comes as he's walking up the steps back home. It's an odd time – Rin should be sleeping. When Haruka checks his phone, the message reads, Are you busy right now?

I'm not, he sends back, and is hit with an immediate reply.

I can't sleep. Are you home?

In a minute, Haruka sends back, and he climbs the steps a little faster.

He keeps his computer on his desk now, so it's ready and working in minutes. Okay, he texts Rin, and a few seconds later he has an incoming call. He feels a frisson of excitement, and connects.

Rin appears, looking tired and bedraggled. He's wearing an old Samezuka sweatshirt, and his hair is mussed like he's been tossing and turning, but he smiles when he sees Haruka. Haruka wants to reach out and touch him, hug him, anything. His heart is clenching hard.

"How early is it?" he asks, keeping his voice down. The room Rin is in is unfamiliar and dimly lit.

"Not too bad, around seven," Rin says. The screen shifts, and Haruka realizes his laptop must be in his lap. "M'in the lounge 'cause Mark's still asleep. Hold up, lemme put in my headphones."

Haruka watches Rin slip a pair of headphones over his ears, turning his head to the side in a yawn as he does so. When he looks back at Haruka, Haruka thinks he sees a lot of the same emotions in the way Rin looks at him – wanting to reach out, to feel, to be close. He sees it in the fondness in Rin's eyes as he smiles tiredly.

Haruka wants to kiss him, bury his nose in his hair, hold him. It really is starting to hurt these days. Separation is such a physical sensation.

"So," Rin starts, sleepy smile still in place. "Remember that idiot it my geology class I was telling you about?"

Haruka chuckles. "The one with the backpack full of bananas?" At Rin's nod, he says, "What now?"

Rin launches into a story about spilled takeout, screaming girls, and a beleaguered professor, his voice held low in the early hour. He makes himself laugh, so amused by his own story – and it's a breathy giggle, makes his eyes shine and his cheeks flush. His voice is soft and steals into Haruka's room, into Haruka, like a layer of padding around his heart, making him feel soft through and through.

Later Rin gets talking about Gou, and about Nagisa, about how he's been speaking a lot to them both – which is normal and not that worth mentioning, so Haruka knows something is coming up.

"Haru…don't call me crazy…"

"Hm?" Haruka hums, cheek resting in his palm. He knows he must look the picture of fondness right now, but that soft feeling has spread throughout his whole body, too enjoyable to resist.

Rin's face scrunches up a little bit, a grimace. "I think, like, they like each other?"

"Who?"

"Nagisa and Gou."

"Well, yeah, they're friends."

"Haru, come on." Rin rolls his eyes. "Like each other. Like you and me."

"Oh." Haruka frowns, remembers Gou and Nagisa heading down the stairs together, shoulder to shoulder. Maybe, he thinks. "Is that bad?"

"It's not," Rin's saying, expression still a little scrunched, a look of big-brother uncertainty. "It's just weird. But I guess if I had to trust one of you with her, it would surprisingly be him? God, maybe I'm crazy just for thinking that."

"You wouldn't trust me with her?"

"Haru." Rin gives him a level stare. "If you'd ever gotten together with Gou I'd have been A, out of my mind jealous, and B, out of my mind bitter, and C, out of my mind fucking sad."

Haruka laughs under his breath, lowers his eyes for a moment. When he meets Rin's again, Rin is looking at him straight on and silent, a little bit dazed, like he's just waking up. Like Haruka had just done something to steal his breath, when all he'd done was laugh a little bit.

"I miss you," Rin says.

And there it is – the thump kick thump of Haruka's heartbeat starting to trip over itself, lose its steady rhythm. He takes Rin in again. His messy hair, his sleepy eyes, his jaw, his chin, his left earlobe, his right nostril, everything. And god, it hurts.

"I miss you too."

"One more month," Rin says, words so quiet, the hush that comes before you kiss someone. Haruka imagines it so vividly – Rin being right here, whispering something in the second before their lips touch.

I can't stop thinking about kissing you, Haruka almost says. I think about it all the time. I've never longed for something like this before. I don't know what to do with myself.

He swallows. "Yeah, one more month." He clears his throat, needs to find something else to say. Rin's gaze has gone deep, needy, a little bit tortured.

Haruka realizes he's seconds away from doing something stupid, from actually leaning closer and kissing his computer screen. Instead, he forces out a question: "How's swimming?"

He can actually see Rin pull himself together, force those emotions into a neat little box for safe-keeping, for dealing with later.

Rin runs a hand through his hair, knocking his headphones askew. He rights them and says, with a lopsided smile that's still so wistful, "We've got invitationals coming up next week. Shouldn't be a big deal."

They say goodbye once the early risers start passing sporadically through the lounge. It's the toughest goodbye yet.

The rains come and go, a quick couple weeks of absolute downpours. And then the rains freeze up, the puddles on the roads turn to ice, and the skies turn a lighter shade of slate to match the ocean.

Makoto returns the week before Christmas, on the day of the first snowfall. The flakes come down whisper soft, and Makoto returns with just about as much fanfare. Haruka gets a text when Makoto lands, and then later when his doorbell rings, he knows exactly who it's going to be.

"Come over for dinner," Makoto says in a puff of white breath, with his easy smile and quiet words, and Haruka does. It's like no time has passed at all.

Afterwards, when they're sitting in Makoto's room munching on some apple slices his mother sent up, Makoto says, "Rin's coming back soon, too."

"Yeah." He's flying in on Christmas day, which, according to him (and Haruka believes him), is going to be hell on earth.

Makoto hums. "Too bad Rei's not going to make it."

"Yeah, he should really take a break."

"But I can't wait to see Nagisa and Gou again."

It hadn't really been weighing on Haruka's thoughts that much, but he has a feeling, an urge. He swallows and makes a very frightening decision.

"Makoto."

Makoto looks at him, eyebrows up.

"Me and Rin…" Haruka can't look away, tongue stuck, thoughts a helpless panic. He's counting on Makoto to understand, and of course Makoto does.

He gives a small smile, breathes out a quiet laugh, looks down at his lap. "Yeah, I thought so." After a few moments, he glances back at Haruka, and his smile is still there. "That's good, Haru. I'm happy for you."

Haruka smiles down at his feet, says softly, "Thanks." Makoto's hand lands, warm and strong, on his shoulder, and gives a squeeze.

"Not to be nosy, but how long…?"

"Since the summer," Haruka says. "But…it's been a mess for longer."

Makoto laughs, a full, rich sound. "Do you two know how to be any other way with each other?"

Haruka doesn't expect to see Rin the day after Christmas. He flew in yesterday, texted Haru as soon as he was home: It was even more hellish than I thought, babies and delays.

His next text came moments later, straight to the point. Sleep.

So Haruka doesn't expect to see him today. Today's a day for Rin to relax and catch up with his family, and a day that Haruka spends with Makoto's.

It's a day of the television on in the background, of board games played on the floor and hot chocolate sipped from holiday mugs. Outside, snow drifts peacefully down. A perfect Christmas-morrow.

Haruka stays for dinner, and Mrs. Tachibana sends him home with the leftover hotpot, still warm, so she makes him wear her oven mitts to carry it with. At the door, Ren and Ran cling to Makoto's sides and grin up at Haruka – but they don't have to crane their necks as far back anymore. They're going through a growth spurt and Haruka hadn't even noticed it until now. "Come back tomorrow," Ran says, while Ren nods fervently. Haruka promises to return the oven mitts, and they complain that they mean for more than just that.

Haruka bids them goodnight with a smile, and turns into the chilly air. The town is a scatter of lights in the night, the steps illuminated and orange-gray. The hotpot in his arms smells delicious, and even though he's full, he's contemplating having a few more bites before he puts it away.

He turns off the steps for his house, and goes still.

There, in the glow of his porchlight, bundled up tight and leaning back against the door, is Rin.

"Don't worry," Rin says, voice lifted slightly to cover the distance between them. "I haven't been waiting around. I just got here."

And it's like everything suddenly comes back into laser focus – like Haruka can see and hear and smell so much more vividly. Like the world is brighter despite the night, like the saturation is more intense. Like nothing in the past months mattered, compared to Rin being here, now, real and warm and so so close.

His feet move, knowing exactly where to go. He's wearing oven mitts and there's a hotpot in his arms but nothing matters because Rin is here.

"Oh yeah," Rin says, smiling wide as Haruka approaches – and that smile is breathtaking, Haruka forgets to take in air, can only think of kissing him again and again in the glow of his porchlight, soaking up his warmth and his smile and forgetting about everything else in the world. "I forgot to say it yesterday, but Merry Christmas."