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They say that humans, in the beginning, were all joined together in pairs. They had round bodies that were equivalent to that of two people and had two heads on their shoulders, and they were always paired together in a way that both in the pair would feel complete with each other. They were perfectly happy and satisfied with this arrangement, yet there were gods who were jealous of this happiness, and as such decided to tear these pairs apart, only for them to search for their other halves in an endless journey with no definite finish line. Only a lucky few in the world have found their other halves and gained true happiness, and even more are unsatisfied as they remain lost to their partners.
Those who were perfect pairs were called soulmates, as Haru's grandmother had told him. He had once asked her how they managed to find each other, and she had said that only the fates could decide if they were truly meant to be found. There were few who managed to get to the end of their red string and find their partner, though those few gained the truest kind of happiness, or so his grandmother had said. He understood that the story would hold some meaning to him someday, as was the usual when it came to his grandmother's stories, though he didn't quite understand it until now. He hadn’t expected, after all, that he would be the one to see the aforementioned red strings. He hadn’t wished to be special in all of his life, and yet here he is, having the sight for red strings despite how he doesn’t care for them.
It’s not that he doesn’t understand their importance; he does. He liked to take his grandmother’s lessons and stories to heart, after all. Yet wouldn’t it hold more meaning to find the one meant for you without clues like this? Wouldn’t it mean something more? He had thought so long ago, and he still thinks so now.
Then again, perhaps his annoyance is more because he can actually see the strings for every moment of his life. Be it when he’s buying his groceries, when he’s out walking by the shore because Makoto insisted, when he’s with all of the members of their swim club as they buy something from the convenience store; he can always see them in front of him, through the corners of his eyes- they’re everywhere and it’s turning into a tiring scene. He can’t even tell anyone because they’d think he was insane, and he can’t tell Makoto because-
He sighs, ducking his face down into the water to cool himself off.
Makoto has never had a string tied around his pinky, as far as Haru remembers. Not once has Haru gotten a glimpse of red on him, around him- there has always been nothing. Just like Haru, who has never seen a red string tied around his pinky finger ever since he was born. Haru was fine with his own case, considering how it didn’t mean much to him as it would to other people. But the fact that Makoto is the same as him, most likely fated to live his life without someone meant for him; it isn’t fair at all. It already posed a small problem to him when he was a child and he wondered who Makoto’s special person would be, and it most definitely troubled him even more now that Haru has fixed things with Rin. Fixing things with Rin meant that he could let go of his irrational worries when it came to their friendship, and it meant seeing how Makoto has always been there to back him up after everything.
It meant that Haru could finally make up for all the times that Makoto had to support him even when Haru was being difficult about it. It also meant that Haru’s troubles when it came to Makoto’s red string would resurface, which brings him back to his current problem.
It’s unfair, he thinks as he shakes his head to get the droplets of water out of his face. After all that Makoto has done for him, and Haru can’t even repay him this.
Makoto wouldn’t mind it when Haru tells him about it, Haru is certain, which is why he has never once told Makoto about his power.He doesn’t want to see Makoto being sad, and he’d hate it even more if Makoto put on a smile for him despite that sadness. That Makoto has gotten used to hiding his sadness and fear behind a smile at all is horrible on its own, in Haru’s opinion.
"Haru?" Makoto calls to him, interrupting his line of thought and making him break his unseeing gaze on the floating dolphin toy in front of him.
"I was thinking," Haru says, the words unnecessary considering how it was already obvious enough in itself. He removes any trace of a troubled expression on his face before he looks up at Makoto, aware that Makoto can read him well, but not well enough to know whenever Haru is worrying about him. Makoto doesn’t notice anything wrong (predictably enough) when he smiles amusedly at Haru, and he holds out his hand for him as per the usual. Haru takes the hand without hesitation, grasping at the warmth of Makoto's palm as he lets himself be pulled up to his feet.
"Oh my god, Haru," Makoto sputters and turns away just as Haru is fully out of the water, apparently having just noticed that Haru hadn't worn his swimsuit into the bath. His hand is quick to let Haru go, though it lingers for a moment before it does so.
"I was in the bath," Haru deadpans, uncaring for his nudity in front of Makoto as he heads on out of the bath to grab a towel. "It's not like it's the first time you've seen me naked, Makoto."
"Still!" Makoto whines, his face covered with both of his hands- though Haru thinks that it's more likely because he's embarrassed with himself than him trying to cover his eyes from the sight of Haru's naked form. "You could've told me! I would've just left!"
"It's your fault for always barging into the bath." Haru sighs and rolls his eyes, taking his time to dry his hair after having wrapped a towel around his waist to cover his privates. Honestly, what was the issue? They were both men and they had the same parts. Though there was a difference in size, it didn't mean that either of them had to be embarrassed about it.
"You could just tell me that you don't like me picking you up from your house," Makoto grumbles, following after Haru out of the bathroom. "I'd rather have that than have you flashing me, you know."
"You never listened," Haru says in reply, giving Makoto an unamused look as he continues drying off his hair. "And look at where it got you."
"Fine, I get it," Makoto sighs wearily, stopping by Haru's door as Haru enters his room alone. "I won't pick you up again."
Haru doesn't reply at first, far too busy with removing his towel and afterwards pulling on his jammers, which prompts Makoto to check in on him again. "Haru!" Makoto yelps when he catches him in the process of getting dressed, immediately pulling away from the door and sitting on his haunches as he groans in embarrassment. "At least shut the door when you're getting dressed!"
"You whine too much," Haru huffs, quickly pulling on his pants, undershirt, and button-up shirt before walking out of his room with his other towel in his hand. "We have the same parts; I don't see the problem."
"It's not that," Makoto mumbles, peeking out from between his fingers, before sighing in relief once he notices that Haru is fully dressed.
"Then what? You already see me half-naked all the time," Haru replies, his voice tinged with annoyance as he continues to dry off his hair while keeping his other towel on one side of his shoulder. "I don't understand what the problem is."
"The problem is the fact that you're so at ease with stripping in front of me, Haru," Makoto whines as he stands up from the floor, automatically taking the towel that Haru isn't using from his shoulder as he heads to the laundry room with Haru in tow. Haru wonders if Makoto notices it at all, if ever, how his actions tell so much of his closeness to him. How he's so used to taking care of Haru, like Haru used to take care of him when they were younger. Makoto continues, apparently not done with his little sermon, "It makes me worry if you're going to just start stripping like that- without your jammers- in public places."
Haru gives Makoto a look that says "are you an idiot?" (Makoto makes a face in reply, unsurprisingly.) Haru says, his face still set with the same expression, "Of course I wouldn't do that. Why would I let other people see me naked?"
"But that's just what happened earlier," Makoto grouses, a hand massaging his temple, before he sets his hand back down to neatly fold Haru's towel and set it on his washing machine.
"We've bathed together since we were kids," Haru deadpans. "I've seen you naked just as much as you've seen me naked, Makoto."
"Ahh," Makoto breathes, shaking his head. He continues making the same troubled face even as Haru throws his towel at him, although he catches it with ease before setting it atop the towel he'd already set down. "I give up," he moans as he follows after Haru out of the laundry room.
Haru doesn't bother to say anything, not feeling particularly inclined to start another stupid argument with Makoto. It's not like it matters, anyway. The whole problem would be forgotten soon enough once they get out of the house for Haru's groceries. Makoto would also forget the fact that he promised not to pick Haru up again, as he always would. Not that Makoto picking him up was ever really a problem as it was a mild nuisance; Haru didn't completely mind it so long as it made Makoto happy.
He watches Makoto slip out of the laundry room to head for his kitchen before following after him, not having to say anything at all so that Makoto will find the grocery list on his fridge. It's not like Haru needs it, considering how he does remember what he needs; it's for Makoto, who can't always bring himself to remember everything that Haru wants to buy once they're separated in the supermarket.
"There isn't any mackerel today," Makoto murmurs in surprise, turning to look up at Haru with wide eyes.
"You kept insisting on it," Haru mumbles as he turns away to get his wallet from his drawer. "I'll buy more mackerel on other days, though."
Makoto doesn't say anything in response. Haru pockets his wallet before turning back to look at Makoto, who is smiling at him with a quiet sort of affection that makes Haru feel oddly warm. Haru struggles not to look away from his own embarrassment, though it's a difficult goal considering how Makoto won't stop smiling. "Stop that," he says in a grumble.
"No," Makoto says frankly, laughing when Haru glares at him. "Let's go?" He asks with another smile, this one saying that he's happy that Haru is going along with him. Haru feels his glare falter at that smile so he looks away, not bothering to tell Makoto to follow after him (though he does offer up a grunt of affirmation as an answer to Makoto's question) as he heads out of the house.
"Eggs, bread, milk, tofu," Makoto's voice trails off into a murmur as he reads from Haru's list, the paper a bit too close to his face as he does so.
"You should wear your glasses if you really need them, Makoto," Haru says, surprising Makoto into looking at him. Haru gives him a look resembling that of a parent ready to scold their child. "Your eyes will get worse if you force yourself to read things without them."
"You worry too much, Haru," Makoto says with a laugh, his words an exact repetition of Haru's own words to him whenever he fusses over Haru too much. "I'll be fine. Besides, your handwriting is neat enough that I don't have to struggle with reading it."
It goes unsaid that Haru wrote everything in larger characters on purpose to make things easy for Makoto. Haru shakes his head, huffing in annoyance as they keep walking for the supermarket. Makoto always worries over him, but when it's him worrying over Makoto at least once it's already too much? How annoying.
"Thank you, Haru," Makoto says after a while of silence, surprising Haru enough that he looks back at Makoto with a confused expression. Makoto smiles and adds, "Haru wrote everything a little bigger so I wouldn't have a hard time, right? Thank you for doing that."
Haru blinks at the unexpected show of gratitude, taking a little longer than usual to process the words in his head, before he feels an unbidden heat making itself known on his cheeks. He grunts lamely in response, his head turned to the side even as they finally reach the supermarket.
"I guess we'll have to get a cart today," Makoto says once they're inside, neatly folding the list and putting it into his shirt's chest-pocket. He doesn't make an issue out of Haru's embarrassment as certain other people would have, which Haru appreciates greatly despite how he doesn't openly say it. "We should get the bread first, right?" Makoto asks.
"Aa," Haru mumbles in answer, walking beside Makoto as he pulls out a cart from the line and starts heading for the bread and biscuits aisle. They pass by what Haru assumes to be a married couple, the wife patting her husband’s back as she laughs at whatever it is he’s saying. The hand she’d used to pat him, while already adorned with a wedding ring, is also graced with a thin red string right around her pinky. Haru turns his gaze away from them before they can notice him, letting his messy thoughts (But why does she still have her red string when she already has him?) fade into a calming silence as he follows after Makoto.
“Take the white bread,” Haru says from behind Makoto, who huffs but does as he’s told.
“I already knew that,” Makoto says as he puts two loaves of white bread into the cart, before moving on to the next aisle. His earlier annoyance at being told what to do easily dissipates as he slowly goes through Haru’s list of groceries, his voice soft while he hums a tune under his breath. Haru doesn’t comment on how he can hear Makoto’s humming despite the distance between them, knowing well enough that Makoto would get embarrassed and stop altogether. He has a pleasant voice and Haru doesn’t mind listening to it, though Makoto would always get flustered whenever Haru thinks that.
They pass by a pair of girls when they get the last thing on Haru's list, and Haru notices the lack of a red string on either girl. They're murmuring to each other when Makoto leaves to get the meat from the frozen food aisle, their gazes meant solely for each other as they twine their fingers together.
They found each other, then, Haru thinks to himself as he watches over his cart, absently scratching his right hand's pinky finger with his left hand. Much as he's used to not having a red string for himself, it didn't mean that he could remove the habit of scratching at his finger. He doesn't want it or need it, not really, but he still can't help from wondering at times what makes him unworthy for a string of his own. It's not the same feeling as when Rin left, when he felt like something was missing, because he never had a red string in the first place. It just feels...empty.
He wonders if he had always been hoping in the deepest recesses of his mind for a string of his own, or if it's just his jealousy speaking to him.
"That's the last thing on the list, Haru," Makoto says as soon as he gets back, a relieved smile on his face as he sets the meat separately from the other grocery items. "Do you want to get some ice cream after?"
"Sure," Haru shrugs, before taking hold of the cart's handle and pushing it himself to the cashier. Makoto sighs in relief at being freed from cart-duty and takes up the space beside Haru, as he always does whenever they're together, his other hand distractedly reaching out to hold onto the end of the handle. There's no red string still when Haru glances down at Makoto's hand, the emptiness of Makoto's fingers leaving Haru feeling mildly discomfited though he can’t quite understand why. It’s not his fault that Makoto doesn’t have one, is it?
His grip tightens on the handle as he stops by the cashier, though it loosens quickly enough before Makoto can look down and notice anything. His hands move on auto-pilot once it's his turn with the cashier and he mindlessly sets the items one by one on the counter, patiently waiting for the cashier to finish bagging their items. Makoto thanks the cashier once she's done putting all of the items in the bags, which gets him a cheery smile in response.
The mild discomfiture fades eventually once they grab two bags each to hold on to, though the sight of the cashier’s thick red string sends another small pang through Haru’s chest. He’s quiet even as they head off for the convenience store, thoughts swirling into a confusing mess as he keeps his gaze turned blankly forward.
Makoto's voice is more than enough to fill up the silence between them, though Haru is sure that Makoto is doing it just so Haru won’t have to force himself to say anything. He offers- or, rather, he’s already pulling out his wallet to pay for the ice cream that Makoto chooses for them, yet Makoto waves his offer off with a smile as he pulls out his own money. Haru sighs at his insistence but lets him pay anyway, knowing well enough that it’d end up into a useless argument if he complains about it.
"I bought the usual," Makoto says as he wiggles the ice cream in front of him. Makoto smiles when Haru makes a face in response at him, slipping his other plastic bag into his already occupied hand so he can remove the plastic covering the ice cream. He hands over Haru’s half of the ice cream once he’s finished splitting it. "There were some new flavors, but I wasn't too sure they'd taste good so I just bought that,” Makoto says.
"It's fine," Haru says in assurance, glancing at Makoto (who is smiling and looking relieved at his words) as he starts to lick up the beads of liquid forming on the sides of his ice cream. "This is the flavor I like best, anyway."
"It's good that I picked that, then," Makoto says in a cheery hum as he starts to lick up his own popsicle. He looks satisfied like this, happy enough, and it makes Haru wonder if Makoto ever misses his red string. Is it really fine with him, just staying by Haru’s side the way that he is?
"Makoto," he says once half of his popsicle has been eaten up, easily getting Makoto's (whose ice cream is already almost gone thanks to his quick eating) attention as he peeks up at him through the corner of his eyes. "Do you know about the red string?"
(His wording is a little vague, he knows, but surely Makoto would understand just from that?)
"Oh, you mean the story your grandmother once told us?" Makoto says, looking pleasantly surprised at being reminded of Haru's grandmother. "I think I still remember it. She said that one of us would be able to see it, didn't she?"
"She did," Haru confirms with a small nod, before biting off another piece from his popsicle. He takes his time chewing on the icy bit before he adds, "Have you seen it, Makoto?"
"Once," Makoto answers simply. Haru whips his head around to look at Makoto in surprise, who only offers him a laugh in response. "I remember that grandmother did some magic then, and I saw the red string on our fingers. I still don't know how she did that."
"Can," Haru struggles to speak, his hand quivering a bit as he finishes off his popsicle before it can fall into a messy splatter on the floor. "Can you still see it now?" He asks, a desperate sort of hope welling in his chest as he avoids Makoto's gaze. If they could both see it, then perhaps Makoto still had his string? Maybe Haru was the only one who couldn't see it, as emotionally inept as he's always been, and the string thought he wasn't worthy enough to make itself visible to him.
Perhaps Makoto has already found his special person and he just hasn't told Haru yet, though the possibility of that being true is low. Makoto would trust him with anything, though he may be hesitant in admitting to his own fears.
"I can't, of course," Makoto says with another soft laugh, unknowing of how troubled Haru is with his own muddled thoughts. "Don't you remember, Haru? Grandmother made the string disappear once we both saw it."
"What?" Haru asks, looking befuddled as he turns to face Makoto. Makoto stifles another burst of laughter with his occupied hand covering his mouth when he sees Haru looking dumbfounded while holding up his cleaned-up popsicle stick, though he still manages an affirmative nod in response.
"She said that we'd only see it once because we'd already found each other, or something like that," Makoto says with an amused smile as he takes the popsicle stick from Haru's hand and throws it along with his own stick into the bin they pass by on the sidewalk. "It's a bit surprising that you don't remember that, Haru. It was the best story I heard from grandmother- though all her stories are good, of course."
"Then," Haru mumbles, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and subsequently making Makoto stop with him out of concern. All this time that he'd spent worrying about Makoto, about what would happen if he ended up lonely because Haru was selfish enough to keep him to himself; all that time he'd spent thinking of why he didn't have a string, was all for nothing?
"Are you alright, Haru?" Makoto asks, voice laced with worry as he reaches out his free hand to check Haru's forehead. Haru clasps Makoto's hand in his before his warm palm can land on his cool forehead, surprising Makoto into silence as he squeezes the larger hand clasped in his own.
"Makoto has always been at the end of my string," Haru says, looking up to see Makoto's embarrassed expression as he shifts their hands so he can better see Makoto's pinky. It's empty, as it has always been- or so Haru thought. This pinky that made Haru swear to so many things, this pinky that had gotten Haru needlessly worried, has always been tied to Haru's string. Haru's, and no one else's.
"I guess so," Makoto says with a still confused smile, though the confusion clears up when Haru smiles back at him. "And Haru is at the end of mine, isn't he?"
"Yeah," he answers, turning his gaze back down to their twined fingers.
He had his string after all.