He couldn't tell if he liked it better in his human form or in his natural form. His human form was good for more of a range of things, including more opportunities to switch up the dynamic, which he liked. But he could swear the high in his natural form was noticeably higher, and he wondered why that was.

Unfortunately, there was no one to ask. He was probably the sole "expert" on the subject of "being of the sea/human mating." He found that kind of funny, and maybe he was a little bit proud and obsessed with being the only one who knew what that was like — apart from Makoto of course. It was their thing and they could have it to themselves, which meant they got to make the rules for it, and figure it out as they went, and that was kind of fun.

Never in a million years would he have thought that this would be his situation in the long run. But he had zero complaints about it, and he only wished there was someone he could brag about it to. Because his Makoto was amazing, and as much as he loved that he would get to keep him to himself for all of eternity, he did mourn the absence of being able to gloat about it just a little bit. Maybe he would say it in a different language to the Kisumi the next time they crossed paths.

It put them to sleep this go around, almost instantly, and he had no qualms with that either. The last thing he was aware of before drifting off was Makoto's warm and steady breathing and the weight of his body draped half on top of his own, damp hair pressed into his shoulder and Haru ran his fingers through it, letting his body shut down as he thought only of how full and how loved he was.

He didn't know how long he slept. It was still dark out when he next opened his eyes, but the stars weren't as bright and there was a hazy blue on the horizon, signaling the coming presence of the sun and a new day.

Makoto was still asleep, one arm laying across Haru's waist, his bare skin pleasantly hot. His head was still propped up by Haru's shoulder, and Haru raked his fingers through his hair again, half-consciously pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He stretched his other arm out over his head with a yawn, tail dragging sleepily through the edge of the sand just outside of the tent. He let his arm flop back and closed his eyes again, contemplating going back to sleep for a little while, maybe even letting Makoto wake him up next time.

It took him a minute, longer than it should have, because the bliss was so engulfing and he had no desire to leave it. But the soft morning push of the waves started to seep into his senses, and the moment he was aware of the sea, his skin started to itch, and his eyes opened again.

He stared at the ceiling of the tent for a good long while, watching the fabric rustle against the breeze, growing steadily cognizant of his heartbeat, which pulsed heavier and louder with each passing second.

He pushed himself up onto his elbow and stared down at his tail, watching as it swished back and forth on command, still obviously a part of his body and in his full control, but the tips of his fingers were already tingling with dread.

He didn't say anything, didn't react, didn't give off any kind of alarm, but his Makoto stirred anyway, as though he could feel the stiffness oozing out of Haru's spine. He rolled onto his back, slow to wake, but he managed to mumble a "Wussa'matter?"

Haru looked down into his lap with a frown, already silently pleading to the sea for answers, combing through all of the things his grandmother had ever taught him to try and understand why. He was quiet for a while, and thought maybe that Makoto might have fallen back asleep during that time, but he turned back on his side with a waking inhale and his eyes cracked open. Haru didn't look at him, but he could feel it.

"Haru?"

"It's still here."

Makoto propped himself up on his elbow, eyes still squinting with sleep. "Hm?"

"My tail," he said, voice quiet. "It's still here."

It took Makoto a minute. It seemed he had to fully wake to understand, so there were several seconds of silence as he stared at Haru's tail, and then he pushed himself up to sit, and furrowed his brow this time with confusion.

"Shouldn't you have your legs back by now?" he asked groggily.

Haru nodded.

"You're not still wet are you? Did we get water in the tent?" He started patting at the sleeping bag and blankets around them, searching for signs of a leak, but Haru already knew that wasn't it.

He was dry. He'd been dry for hours, and he knew it because his skin was crawling. He didn't scratch at it, but it was difficult not to. Without his legs, he couldn't last nearly as long on land, but that had never been a problem before.

The dread crawled up his back with ferocity. He could have spiraled straight into a panic if he wanted to. He was already thinking about it, what this could possibly mean, and it wrangled his stomach into unforgiving knots.

He couldn't stay on land when he only had a tail. And Makoto couldn't stay in the water.

Why was this happening?

"Haru? Hey." Makoto shook his shoulder, snapping him out of the fog where his breathing was already short — though he couldn't tell how much of that was alarm and how much was the air literally going thin.

Makoto was already moving to scoop him up. "Let's get you back into the water."

"No." Haru pushed his arms away, head shaking, and looked at him through a blur, eyes wide. "No. It's not supposed to be like this."

"I understand that," Makoto said calmly, "but you need the water. You're already drying out again. Let's just give it some more time, okay?"

"I don't want to, Makoto." He was surprised, because the voice that came out of his mouth didn't sound like his own. It was weak and full of emotion, and he was already burying his face into Makoto's shoulder, clinging to him tightly, because he didn't want the sea to separate them. He didn't understand this.

Makoto's arms wrapped warmly around him, stilling for a moment as he gave Haru time to calm down and remained solid in the meanwhile. It was comforting, having such a pillar to ground him. He knew he shouldn't get worked up about it. That would probably make things worse before it made anything better, and it definitely wouldn't fix the issue, and his Makoto's very calm radiated all of that, sharing it with him, reminding him silently that he wasn't going anywhere, and that — even though something was clearly wrong — the world also wasn't suddenly ending.

He smoothed a warm hand up and down Haru's back and that helped him to get his breathing back under control, to convince his pulse to settle a least a little bit.

"Has this ever happened before?"

Haru shook his head and tightened his hold. "No."

"Okay." He gave him a comforting pat, confirming he understood. "Let's not panic, okay? You were out of the water for a really long time. You probably just didn't have enough time to really recoup. I know it's not what you want to do, but let's get you back in the water, and we'll figure something out from there. Okay? We don't want to push your body beyond what it can handle, Haru. If you need the sea, you need the sea. Let's not fight that."

Haru's jaw locked on its own, but he took a steadying breath and forced himself to nod. He didn't resist when Makoto picked him up this time, and he allowed himself to be carried and set back down in the ocean. He moved his grip to Makoto's wrist the moment they broke the embrace, but Makoto settled there, chest deep, and didn't seem in any kind of rush to leave him there, even though Haru knew the water had to be freezing to him right now.

Instead of giving away any signs of discomfort, Makoto gave him a soft smile and nodded once. "Okay? That feels better, right?"

Haru frowned, but he nodded, because unfortunately it was true. He just didn't like the implications of what that meant.

"It's okay," Makoto assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "It's not permanent."

How do you know? he wanted to say. But he preferred to trust the optimism in the green of Makoto's eyes, so he didn't voice that question out loud. He just drifted closer and dropped his forehead onto Makoto's collar, tucking himself under his chin, and Makoto ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

A week passed, and nothing changed.

Two weeks passed, and nothing changed.

An entire month went by at aching snail speed, and no matter how many times Haru sat on the sand, staring at his tail, willing it to turn into legs, it stayed where it was — and nothing changed.

He made Makoto go back to stay at the house a long time ago. He couldn't stomach watching that tent become a temporary home for an indefinite amount of time. And the way that his Makoto began to wince with back pains in the mornings was only making it worse.

Makoto tried to argue that he was fine, but Haru wouldn't have it, because he could see the truth in Makoto's eyes, really not that far beneath the surface. Makoto's only reason for wanting to continue camping was Haru and nothing else. Living every day like that was unrealistic for his human. They hadn't even hit the full week mark before Haru had managed to convince him to sleep back in his bed at home.

Of course, that didn't stop him from showing up bright and early every morning. It didn't stop him from spending as much time as he could in the water. That didn't stop him from bringing Haru food to eat — even though Haru could technically survive on raw fish. Unfortunately, the meals that he and the Nagisa had prepared before it went back to Tokyo couldn't last forever, and Haru was doubly distraught that Makoto had to fend for himself after that.

He insisted that he was used to it, but he also still did his best to make food that was more appealing to Haru, rather than just bringing him cup noodles every morning, noon, and night. But he was still an awful cook, and trying to remedy that from the water was frustrating — mostly for his taste buds, but also because he could see how hard Makoto was trying, and how much he actually stressed about it, and Haru couldn't do anything to help.

Wanting nothing but to curl up next to his Makoto and sleep in his arms was also frustrating. The days were still warm, but the evenings were beginning to cool down significantly, and with that, so did the temperature of the sea. The water was only getting colder with time, and it was alarmingly soon that his human could only stand to be in the ocean for an hour at max — and that was pushing it.

Of course he always insisted that he was fine, but that insistence started to come out stuttered through blue lips and chattering teeth. Haru always thanked his chivalry with a kiss and then just pushed him back to the shore without saying anything else about it.

He started trying to barter with the sea at night, after Makoto had gone home to sleep. He promised it all kinds of things, from devout faith and devotion, to his firstborn child, which he would find a way to get his hands on if that was really what the sea wanted from him. He asked all kinds of questions that went unanswered, swam in pacing circles, got angry and started shouting definitely more than once, cried even.

It wasn't fair, and he didn't understand.

"What is the point of this?" he begged, kneeling in the sand on the sea floor. "After all the things that you put us through — put him through, put me through — just to bring us together, and now this? I don't understand … Won't you at least answer me?"

The current drifted lazily, schools of fish swam by in the distance, flecks of sand, and seaweed, and coral floated all around him, the dolphin and his mate the orca both slept, drifting in circles close to the surface only yards away. All was silent, and the sea had nothing to tell him other than to trust.

He sighed, head hanging, because that didn't help anything. "I've trusted you my whole life. Even in those few moments that I thought you might have abandoned me. I trusted you when you said it was time to leave my parents behind. I trusted you when you took my grandmother away. I trusted you when you brought Makoto to me and asked me to take care of him. I've done everything you've ever asked of me. And now you've given me this amazing gift, but I can't even touch it anymore?"

He lifted his head, gazing out at nothing with aching disbelief. And the sea said nothing, so he closed his eyes and focused as hard as he could.

"Oba-chan …" He swallowed past the knot in his throat. "I know you're there. I know you're listening to me. I know you're watching over both of us. If there's anything that can be done … Please. Please come tell me."

He started praying that prayer every night, growing ever more desperate as the time ticked by, begging his grandmother to show up like she did that one time — to comfort him, to tell him what to do, to speak on the sea's behalf, anything.

Above all the things that this untimely dilemma was, it was lonely. And he knew if that was what he was feeling, then his Makoto was feeling it too — staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom in the house that he grew up in, alone, no family and no Haru. And Haru knew he was hurting. Knew it because he'd spent so many of his own nights like that before. He had vowed to himself that Makoto wouldn't have to experience that, but it was just another thing he could do nothing about, and he wanted to rake his fingers through the bottom of the sea until he found the earth's core.

Did the sea ever feel wounded the same way that its creatures did? The same way that humans did? Would it know it had been carved into with frustrated fury, with bleeding fingers? Could it feel?

Haru doubted it.

It was mid-September, the day that Makoto waded past the shoreline with an anxious frown already set in his cheeks, and Haru knew whatever he had to say, at the very least, wasn't good news.

"We're running out of money." His voice was quiet, reluctant to say so — embarrassed maybe even — and he let a moment of strained silence pass by on the breeze between them.

It was clear already, what words he had to say next, but Haru didn't interject.

Makoto took a very calculated breath and stared out at the horizon. "The fire department I was supposed to start at in Tokyo sent a recommendation to the local department here and transferred all of my information. They're willing to hire me on, but I still have to go through a probation period, so it would just be volunteer work for a while." He sighed, the weight of responsibility pulling down his shoulders. "I can do what I was doing before and pick up a part-time job at the swim club nearby …"

The silence breezed through them again, weaving loosely through their hair, crawling down their skin. If Haru could feel cold in that way, he probably would have shivered the same way that Makoto did, but the way that Makoto looked at him was nearly enough to do that on its own.

"I wouldn't be able to stay out here with you, in that case. I'd come as much as I can, but there'd probably be times when I'd have to get called away at random." He reached up and brushed his thumb tenderly across Haru's chin, a deep and complex longing in his eyes. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Haru curled his fingers around his wrist and kissed his fingertips, eyes dropping to the water. "I want to come out of the water," he said. "I want to be with you."

The quiet that descended was different now — weightier, thick, impending. Haru looked back up to find a new kind of frown on Makoto's lips, and the way that his eyes stared was disconcerting. Haru's pulse already began to flutter off pace, and the way that Makoto gently raked his hand through his hair did not help. His fingers rubbed at the back of his head and he leaned forward to place a devastatingly long kiss on Haru's forehead.

He didn't even pull away when he spoke next, just murmured the words into Haru's skin. "The sea spoke to me."

Haru frowned. He didn't even try not to tense. He didn't like the way that Makoto said it. "When?"

"This morning … You have to go back to the cove."

"No."

"Haru —"

He pulled Makoto down with a grip on his neck and placed a hard kiss on his lips, holding him there for a long and tense moment, pressing his feelings there, willing them to stick.

"No," he said when he finally pulled away, looking Makoto dead in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

"But the sea —"

"I don't care what the sea has to say." It burned in his eyes, that rejection. It yanked at the bottom of his stomach. He immediately wanted to vomit, but he didn't take it back.

Makoto slid a patient hand up under his jaw, his eyes shining. "What if it's the only way to get your legs back?"

Haru's jaw went taut, clenching under an immense pressure. It took force to say it, but he managed to grit out an, "I don't care." He shook his head, both because he knew that wasn't true, and also because he was that determined. "If I have to be without you, then my legs are useless. I'd rather be confined to the ocean." Even as much as I hate it, was what he wanted to say after that, but he couldn't manage that much.

Being confined to the sea already felt like he was having to be without his Makoto, and he knew with the addition of Makoto needing to return to work, it would only become a larger issue. But he couldn't imagine it, returning to the very same place that he'd spent the majority of his life growing up in, the same place that he'd been yearning to go back to since he left it — the place where he was secluded and safe and had everything he needed.

He'd been alone there, before Makoto. To return to living like that, now that he had a Makoto in his life, was unthinkable. He refused to go anywhere without him. Not to the cove, not to the Arctic, not to the blue of the Maldives.

There was more silence between them, and during that time, their arms snaked their way around each other. Makoto was already cold, already shivering, but he held Haru tightly and said nothing about it. The only thing to hear for a handful of minutes was the breathing of the ocean.

Then Makoto squeezed him and kissed the top of his head. "Give me time."

Haru tilted his head back. "For what?"

Makoto kissed his lips this time. "To figure it out. I'm going to make it okay."

"Makoto …"

Another kiss. "I'm going to make it okay," he whispered.

Haru wanted to tell him he didn't need to do anything, that he was already doing too much, that he didn't need to strain himself or think that he had to be responsible for all of this — any of it really. But he saw the determination in the green of Makoto's eyes, and it was followed by the smallest of smiles, and Haru didn't have the heart to argue that away. So he simply nodded once, and Makoto gave him one more kiss.

"Try to stay patient."