Work Text:
I’m halfway out the door when I remember: it’s been a year since the day we first met.
Or, to be more specific, since the day we reunited.
See, I can’t help but think that there’s supposed to be something in that word that would throw me off – reunited, doesn’t that sound a bit weird to anyone else? – but I’m not exactly fazed by it.
Well, Rin and Nagisa had spent most of our childhood telling us that we were two halves of the same person, so it really would be right to say that when Haru and I met again, we became whole again.
Anyway. There’s a calendar by our front door – Mum keeps that up because if she doesn’t, the twins would go and forget their school schedules, especially since they aren’t in the same class and can’t nag each other about similar scheds. I don’t look at it much – I work pretty much the same hours everyday, which is to be expected, what with being Iwatobi Elementary’s full-time Japanese language teacher – but right now, I raise my head to look at it.
It’s another day today, another terribly ordinary day like all the rest – Ren has track practice today, as per usual, and Ran’s got a long exam – but the more I look at the date something inside me clicks and I finally get it.
It’s been one whole year since the day I met Haru again.
So, now that I know that, what shall I do?
The bad thing with asking Nagisa for advice, you see, is that Nagisa keeps sending texts with the same devotion that he allots for everything ‘interesting’ enough to warrant his attention – it’s a miracle, it really is, that my phone hasn’t blown up from the pressure yet.
“Tachibana-sensei?” one of the girls in my class says, a bit shyly, as she raises her hand. She’s sitting in front, and something about her little pigtails makes her remind me of Ran. “Can I ask a question?”
“Of course, Tamura-chan.” I reply, smiling. They always tell me that my smiles make students like me so much, though I really have no idea how that works. “What did you want to ask?”
“Well, I was just wondering…” Tamura says, as she slowly stands up. “Well, you see…”
Unlike the sister of mine she resembles so much, though, Tamura isn’t a confident girl, so even now that she’s got permission she’s fumbling with her words. It’s as if she knows she’ll be gotten mad at for whatever she is about to say, which is more than a bit unsettling.
Note to self: casually ask faculty about Tamura’s family background later.
The supposed suspense seems to have been unbearable for her seatmate, however, because she sighs loudly before standing up as well and saying, “Sensei, I think what Ta-chan wanted to ask was why you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Yes…that was what I – Ta-chan?”
Tamura’s seatmate is Ootani, who wears glasses and is a full head taller than her. Looks and gender aside, their dynamic has begun to remind me of Rei and Nagisa’s. It’s more than a little bit hilarious.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re Ta-chan, so that’s what I’ll call you. So, sensei, getting back to the subject, why aren’t you getting that call?”
Now, had I been some other teacher, the girls would have gotten on a receiving end of a lengthy rant about kids being nosy and how they needed to stop getting into other people’s business. Both girls are sitting in front, though, and I can only imagine how disturbing my cell’s vibrating alarm has been…for the past thirty minutes.
Yeah, Nagisa really is that attentive.
“That’s a really good question, girls.” I say, nodding sagely. “So, class, you don’t mind it if sensei goes out to the hall to get this?”
The class, as expected, gives me an unharmonious, unanimous chorus of ‘yes’, so I smile, take my phone and walk out the door. After sliding the classroom door shut, I suck in a deep breath – I just know I’m gonna need it – and brace myself.
“Oh my gosh Mako-chan, what took you so long, tell me everything.”
“I’m sort of in the middle of class, Nagisa.” I say. It seems that no matter where we go or which world we live in, timing really never isn’t gonna be Nagisa’s strong spot. “What I texted you earlier is ‘everything’ as I know it, though, so I can’t tell you anything else.”
“Hmm, okay, then.” I hear the rustling of papers on Nagisa’s end. He’s probably rifling through his scripts now, before recordings – because if he was already in recordings, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to text me that persistently. Or would he? “So, have you got anything planned yet?”
“What do you mean, Nagisa?”
“You know – dinner, candlelight, bouquet of flowers, kisses in the moonlight?” Nagisa rattles off, and it’s a relief there’s no one else in the hallway right now because I fear that they might be blinded with how brightly my cheeks seem to be flushing. “Aren’t those stuff couples normally do on their anniversaries?”
“Nagisa,” I say, carefully. “I think you’ve been starring in way too much romance anime.”
“Am not– I’m working on a sports anime right now, didn’t Rei-chan tell you? It’s one of the breakout hits of the year, apparently.”
“Yeah, he did. But seriously, Nagisa.” I sigh, leaning against the windowsill. “Do I consider today our anniversary? Or would it be better to consider the day we confessed, or the day we actually called each other…well, boyfriends…”
“Aw, how cute, your voice got so soft all of a sudden, Mako-chan! I’d call Rei-chan – he’s the one out of all of us most likely to keep track of all these fussy details – only he told me that he’s got ‘more important matters to consider than whether or not you’ll be having strawberry or vanilla cake today, Nagisa-kun’ and turned his phone off. I’d say you could also consider your first kiss a proper anniversary?”
“Oh…right.” I say, flushing red and remembering that night. For all his sternness, Haru had been sweeter than the pineapple cake we had eventually brought out. “…that day’s a long way away from today, Nagisa.”
“…ooh, Mako-chan!” Nagisa almost squeals. On his side of the line, I can hear papers toppling over. He doesn’t seem to mind. “When did this happen? When did you kiss Haru? Why didn’t you tell meeeee??”
“Well, I, Nagisa,” I groan, suddenly feeling a great pang of sympathy for Rei, he’s the one who has to live with him. “It’s not really something I should be talking about…”
“I see,” Nagisa murmurs, clicking his tongue. “I knew you and Rei-chan were more alike than you seemed – all properly modest and stuff, how adorable. Anyway, Mako-chan, if you’re gonna celebrate this anniversary properly here’s what you’re gonna do – when you have your midday meeting, you’re gonna invite Haru-chan to dinner. Then as soon as you get off work, make the reservations, get him some flowers. Take his hand, compliment him, make sappy conversation. Kiss him after dinner…maybe even do stuff. And ta-da, an anniversary!”
“I – I.” I mumble, hoping that I don’t seem as flustered over the prospect of doing stuff than I really am right now. Nagisa would never let me live that down, I’m sure. “I don’t think Iwatobi has any five-star restaurants, and even if there was one I don’t think I have the money for one, Nagisa.”
Now Nagisa’s the one sighing, as if I had just said something that personally offended him. “Oh, Mako-chan. I didn’t say you needed to make reservations in a fancy resto, yanno, even if those are generally the mainstays for a successful anniversary celeb. Just take Haru-chan somewhere you think he’d like, and you’d be in the clear.”
“Thanks for the advice, Nagisa, really.” Even if I now have to try very hard to stop thinking about any of Nagisa’s words lest I turn into a puddle of blushing goo right in front of my entire class. Speaking of: I need to go back to class. “See you around?”
“Much earlier than ‘around’, Mako-chan. As soon as you’re done with your date, I am going to wring the story out of you, and I don’t care if it means I have to walk all the way from Tokyo to Iwatobi to get it, okay?”
“You don’t have to walk, Nagisa…I’ll talk to you later, then.” I say, chuckling, shaking my head. “Good luck with your scripts, Nagisa.”
“Good luck with educating children, Mako-chan…” Nagisa trails off, before appending, “Haru-chan’s boyfriend who really should stop dawdling and be the dominant one already.” and giggling.
“Nagisa,” I sigh, “It make me very happy if you stopped laughing over my love life.”
“Too bad I don’t wanna stop doing that any time soon, then.”
Ootani’s the one who stays behind when everybody else leaves for lunch. I’m about to head out as well, only – she’s looking at me like that. I just have to stop.
“Is something the matter, Ootani-chan?”
“Tachibana-sensei, you have a boyfriend, right?”
“I –”
I don’t usually use that exact word – it seems a bit more modest for me to go and say the word ‘partner’ when referring to Haru – but while I was talking to Nagisa the term must’ve sort of slipped out. This is a word choice I consciously don’t use, of course – nobody’s said anything outright, but I am pretty sure my students would prefer having a teacher who isn’t gay over one who is.
Which is why the question terrifies me more than it rationally should – oh well then, here goes nothing. “Yes, I do have one. Eavesdropping isn’t a good thing to do, Ootani-chan.”
“I know that. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Ootani says, sounding surprisingly assertive for a fifth-grader. Or, well, maybe all fifth-graders really were that assertive all the time, and I was the only one who wasn’t. “You weren’t sure about when your anniversary should be, right, sensei?”
“Well, yes, I’m not sure.” I say, both surprised and relieved that this little girl doesn’t seem to be creeped out in any way because her Japanese teacher is in a romantic relationship with another guy. Guess that’s children for you.
“I don’t have any experience with this, so I can’t be too sure.” Ootani says, holding herself up straighter. She’s gonna be a tall one – I think she’s even taller than I had been at her age. “But if you think today should be an anniversary, then it is one. If you think that all the other important days you said should be anniversaries too, then they’re anniversaries, as well. It doesn’t matter what happened on that day or whether or not it’s the socially acceptable one, what matters is what you feel. At least that’s what I think.”
I smile at her, at this thoughtful little girl. “Thank you, Ootani-chan. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Mum’s a bit scatterbrained, and unlike sensei she couldn’t remember the date they first met, or their first date…so Mommy said that they should celebrate it on the day they got me instead, because that was when they finally became whole.” Ootani says, and something about the tone of her voice makes it sound as if it’s a confession, though there’s a big smile on her face. “I wish you enjoy your anniversary today, sensei.”
“Will do. Also, if you don’t mind, Ootani-chan?”
“Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want me to – I was the only one who eavesdropped anyway; everyone was too busy gossiping about Mamoru-kun’s sudden love confession to Ta-chan.”
“…well, still, thank you.”
Haru greets me at our usual spot with a raised eyebrow and a stubborn frown on his face. “You’re late, Makoto.”
“What – it’s still early in my lunch break!” I say, handing him his sandwich. It’s karaage, this time, because no matter what Haru says man cannot and should not live on mackerel alone. His frown grows deeper at my filling choice, but he takes a bite out of it anyway, chewing thoughtfully.
The thing is, I know that he actually does like chicken, so there’s no reason for him to be making that face.
“How’s your sandwich, Haru?”
“Dry.”
“Don’t even try to play sulky with me, mister – I saw you smiling.” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. He tries to hide a smile behind the bread buns but it’s no use. Haru smiles so rarely, but he looks so brilliant when he does and somewhere along the way I’ve gotten the ability to instinctively just know when he’s happy. “There, that smile.”
“What smile?” Haru insists, though he’s saying this around a mouthful of sandwich so it comes out more like “ack schnile?” which sounds like some other language entirely.
“…never mind,” I say, closing my eyes and shaking my head fondly at my boyfriend and his stubbornness.
When I open my eyes, Haru is licking his lips, which is highly distracting, and then he looks up to look at me, which is also even more highly distracting. I have to hold on to the railing so I don’t topple over.
“What’s the matter, Makoto?”
“Nothing. It’s just –” I rack my brain and realize that Haru and I really never have had a proper date – save for the time when he had dragged me to the mackerel restaurant on my day off, and even then we weren’t really even together together, yet. I feel ashamed of myself all of a sudden, and this feeling – the feeling of wanting Haru to have the world and being ashamed because I’m not able to – is what drives me to say my next words. “Haru, would you want to go out to dinner with me?”
Now, I guess I should tell you: I’ve been expecting every reaction Haru could have to this, but I had no way of expecting the reaction he gives me.
Haru looks a bit dazed, for one, as if he was in a very good dream and he doesn’t ever wanna wake up. I know this, because that’s pretty much how I look at him when I think he wouldn’t see me. And his mouth – his spectacularly distracting mouth – is having a little bit of what Nagisa’d call a “goldfish moment”.
The truth is, I wanna kiss him right now. But right now, the side of me that cares for the general public is taking my passionate urges by the collar and dragging them to the back corner of my mind, so I settle for reaching out to hold his hand.
“It’s all right if you don’t want to, Haru,” I say, “I mean, maybe you’ve already got plans –”
“I’ll do it,” Haru blurts out suddenly, his lovely blue eyes suddenly sparkling. It’s as if we were sixth-graders again and someone had just told him he could spend all day soaking in the pool. “Let’s do it, Makoto.”
“…”
“Makoto? What’s wrong?”
What Haru doesn’t know – I think – is that there’s a lot of ways his last sentence can be read as, and my mind’s really fond of reacting to the way whose response is really not one for family viewing. So when I mumble “Nothing,” I have to think of other things. A lot of things.
I find myself spending a whole minute remembering the time when Rin had gotten Rei a butterfly-print bodysuit that would’ve not looked good on anyone. The way Nagisa had fawned over Rei striking poses in it had been eerily suspicious.
“It’s nothing, Haru, really,” I smile, hoping to get Haru’s attention back to my face and nowhere else. “So – time?”
“I don’t exactly have a schedule set in stone, Makoto,” Haru says, swallowing another bite of his sandwich with an obvious gulp. I bring my Styrofoam cup to my mouth; my throat’s feeling a bit dry all of a sudden. “What time will you be getting off?”
Makoto, you’re in public, I berate myself. I blame Nagisa for this, I really do – because I don’t normally see this much innuendo in normal conversations, but if any one of us ever could, it’d probably be him.
“Getting off work,” I find myself muttering, more to myself than anything. At this rate Haru might just notice that I’m a raving lunatic and he’d begin steering clear of me.
“Yes…?”
“I have a faculty meeting,” I finally say, a bit apologetically, “but I’ll try my best to get out of it early. So maybe around sixteen-hundred?”
Haru nods. “Where will we be going?”
“Umm…” I stall, because to be honest I dunno where we’re going, either. Only that wherever it would be, we’re gonna go together. “Well…somewhere nice?”
“Hm,” Haru hums, looking down to finger his dark jacket and the T-shirt he’s wearing underneath. It looks good on him, but then again I’ve always had a biased opinion. “I guess I should go home and change, then.”
“Ah, but Haru, you don’t have to!” I say, because if worse comes to worst we’re just gonna end up having dinner at Haru’s favourite donburi shop anyway, and he’s more than dressed up enough for that. I’m not exactly dressed for a date, myself. “You’re fine as you are.”
Haru gives me a little eyebrow-raise that seems to want to say ‘oh, really?’ – it’d look skeptical on anyone else, but on Haru, it looks almost cheeky. “Let’s meet at eighteen-hundred then, at your house. I doubt that Iwatobi Elementary would be pleased to have someone hanging around.”
Eighteen-hundred. Guess I’d be able to change into something a bit more…presentable, at least. I’m about to rack my brain to think of nice places I could bring him to, only the class bell rings and ruins all my concentration.
“Go on then, Makoto.” Haru says, waving a paintbrush my direction as if he could magically whisk me away to my next classroom. It’s a bit adorable, and as I tell him so he blushes, as he always does.
“See you later, Haru?”
“Mm.”
The thing is, though, I probably really should go out more and get to know other people, because I'm quickly running out of people to ask.
We've already seen why Nagisa's a last resort. Between them Rei and Rin have enough outrageousness to shock the public and make a thousand fashion critics faint, and Gou would probably suggest something muscle-baring and not at all fit for this cool weather.
The twins, of course, are my siblings. My younger siblings.
And as things are I guess I'd be excused in just wanting to crawl in a hole and die. Peacefully.
"Ra-n!" Ren yells out for his sister, even though she’s right behind us, as I look at myself hopelessly through the mirror. "What do guys wear on dates?"
Her back is turned to us, so I can’t see her face, but I can hear Ran scoff. "You're a guy, Ren, aren't you the one who's supposed to know?"
"Well, you're the one who always gets googly-eyed around 'Rei-senpai!!!', aren't you?" Ran retorts, with an eerily accurate impression of his sister’s rare, squealing tone. That only appears whenever Rei is concerned.
Ran, who’s lying on her stomach on my bed, suddenly whirls around to glare at Ren, who’s standing by me in front of the mirror. "How's that supposed to mean that I know what guys wear on dates!?"
"I dunno - You've probably daydreamed about going on a date with him millions of times already?" Ren says, raising a cheeky eyebrow at his sister.
"Shut up!" Ran growls, as her cheeks grow redder. They always do, whenever Rei’s been dragged in the picture…
"Ren, Ran, stop fighting," I say, both because I'm stressed enough without having to deal with their bickering, and because if I ever hear too much about Ran's extremely obvious crush, again, I think I might just do something very stupid and mildly drastic. "Even if you guys did know what people wear on dates, I don't think I have any of them."
Ran gives her twin brother a loud smack upside his head as she walks over to my closet. "Hmm. That's a lie, though. You're not going someplace black-tie, right?"
"Of course not, Ran. It's not as if I've got the money for it."
"Then you’ve got everything you need – this suit jacket would be fine! Did you know how many classmates of mine tripped onstage ‘cause they saw you in this? What am I saying, of course you don’t.” Ran says, shaking her head. “Wear that with this button-down. No ties, please, you’re not working tonight. We wouldn’t wanna distract from the shirt – matches your eyes.”
“Thanks, Ran,” I say, and have to stop myself from tearing up because somewhere along the way our little girl became such a fashion guru and I’m irrationally proud of her.
Just as she always did when she were little, Ran puffs her chest out and puts both hands on her hips, seemingly emboldened by my praise. “You’re welcome! And, of course, if ever Haru-chan and you ever go on any more dates, feel free to ask for my humble opinions –”
“– feel free to ask her about her imaginary dates with Rei-nii, she means. Nagisa-nii probably wouldn’t like any of them…especially since they always seem to end in kis–”
“Ren, shut up!!”
“Oh – okay, guys, guys? Settle down now, Ran, Ren,” I say, prying the twins off of each other and trying very hard not to think about the fact that my little sister frequently daydreams about kissing one of my best friends, who may or may not be in love with his own best friend – more evidence points to may. If Rei and Nagisa ever got together, it’d probably break my little sister’s heart, but…well. “I’m gonna get dressed now. Promise you’ll tell me if I look stupid?”
“Promise.”
“Of course you won’t look stupid, niichan, I chose perfectly.”
“So says the girl who finds grown men attractive in butterfly-print pajamas.”
“Shut it, Ren,” Ran says, rather too eerily for a girl her age, “or I just might tell niichan about your first crush. Remember? The one you had in kindergarten.”
As Ran sashays out of my room, not bothering to slam the door behind her, Ren suddenly seems to be sweating bullets. “What – hey! Ran, you stupid idiot, I told you that in confidence!!”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say that if you don’t stop making fun of me, you won’t be the only one saying stuff in confidence!” Ran yells from our first floor.
Ren turns to me then, and now his cheeks are red as well. He looks oddly scared, and it makes me wanna forget the clothes and hug him, he looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Makoto-nii, can you promise me something?”
To be honest, the look in Ren’s eyes kinda scares me, but I am nothing if not a good big brother. “What is it, Ren?”
“Promise me that no matter what that meddler Ran says –” (“Hey!!”) “– you won’t get mad at me?”
“Don’t call your sister a meddler, Ren. And it depends – did you do something criminal? Like, say, did you kill someone?”
“No!”
“Well…hmm. Then I guess we’ll be just fine.”
“Thanks, Makoto-nii.” Ren says, nodding briskly as he walks out of my bedroom to let me change. He closes the door behind him, so I can’t be too sure, but from the sound of it it seems like he trips over himself going down the stairs. I can faintly hear Ran crooning something like “and you say you’re a track prodigy??”
I chuckle to myself and turn back to my reflection, thinning my lips into a line and squaring my shoulders.
“You’ve been through worse, Makoto Tachibana,” I say, too focused on giving myself a pep talk that it doesn’t even register that giving myself a pep talk is kind of a weird thing to be doing. “You can do this.”
Little did I know though, Haru had been doing the exact same thing. Sort of.
I didn’t hear him myself – Ran had, however, because according to Ren she’d had her ear pressed against our front door for a full ten minutes after our buzzer rang. “Haru-chan sounded so cute,” she gushed, as she shepherded me down the stairs and into a long coat I can’t seem to remember owning. “I didn’t get much of what he was saying – his voice is so soft, it’s unfair! – but from what I heard, he thinks he looks silly and that he probably should’ve cancelled.”
“What – Ran,” I start, trying to sound properly disappointed, “You should’ve told me when he first got here! It’s not nice to leave him waiting out there in the cold for so long.”
“I know,” Ran says, pouting as she does up the last few buttons of my coat with a practiced ease. For all their bickering, she and Ren do fuss over each other’s coats, after all. “It’s just that I knew that he’d be happiest if the door opened and he saw you behind it.”
“My little sister’s such a romantic,” I say, shaking my head and leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You and Ren be careful, okay? Don’t open the door to just anyone.”
“We’re getting pizza,” Ren chirps brightly from the living room, his phone in hand, “so we’re just gonna let in the pizza guy.”
“And I’m gonna answer the door,” Ran tells me proudly, beaming, because for all that Ren shares my physique and has generous amounts of track-and-field-honed muscle, it is Ran who took to martial arts and self-defense classes like a duck does to water. Correction: like Haru does (did?) to water. “I’ll be holding a kitchen knife!”
“That’s…very good,” I say, hoping to any and all deities that may be listening that she wouldn’t ever have the need to show just how talented she really is, because if there would be then I shall have to ensure that heads will roll tonight and that’s not a pretty good thing to think about, not when I’m about to go on a date.
I open the door, and sure enough, there is Haru, looking down and muttering to himself. He’s bundled up and adorable in his scarf and his coat’s in such a dark blue it almost looks black to my eyes. And I don’t think I’ve seen him in those pants before…
…I look up to see Haru surveying my own coat and slacks with such grave interest that it makes me want to curl my toes.
Behind us, Ran’s giggling, and Ren’s shushing her. “Give Makoto-nii his moment, hm?”
Haru looks away from me for one merciful moment – I was getting scared that I’d forget how to breathe if he kept looking at me like that – and turns to them. There is a soft, barely-visible little smile on Haru’s face as he tells my siblings, “Ran, Ren, you’ve grown a lot.”
“Thanks, Haru-chan,” Ren replies, oddly shy all of a sudden.
“Have fun with niichan!” Ran pipes up, and giggles before adding, “You know, you can bring him home tomorrow, Ren and I won’t mind –”
The flush spreads over my cheeks again as Ren groans and grumbles his sister’s name. Haru is looking at me very oddly now, and I dunno whether Haru’s really not getting the insinuation, or he does get it and doesn’t get why I’d bother thinking about it.
It’s oddly sobering, after all – even if I did stay the night, when Haru wakes up in the morning, his mind’ll have no choice but to start off from when he drowned years ago. Anterograde amnesia works like that. I doubt it’d be easier for him to muddle through if I were around.
“Makoto? Let’s go,” Haru says, looking at me head-on with those bright blue eyes and a little furrow forming between his eyebrows. It’s a very cute look on him.
“Ahh, okay, let’s,” I say, putting on my shoes and turning back to the twins once more. “I’m going out!”
“Take care!” the twins say in unison, as I lock the door behind us.
I’ve watched how dates go too many times on too many dramas – well, Nagisa insists that among us he’s watched the most dramas, because of his three sisters. But I’m confident that I’ve watched more, seeing as Nagisa gets me to watch them, as well as the twins and Mum and…
…well, Rin also hounds me into watching dramas with him, from time-to-time, but when we first started the tradition he’d looked at me extremely seriously and said that even if I was his best friend, if I ever told on him to anyone that, yes, he did like Hana yori dango, he’d have me trussed and tossed into the shark-infested waters of Australia quicker before I could say “Domyouji Tsukasa”.
Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, even if I really haven’t gone on much – okay, any – dates, I’ve seen a whole lot of them to know that it’s not the food that matters, not really, ‘cause even if it is it comes a far second to the ambiance.
I know this because Rei had called me when I was getting dressed, and told me those exact words. He’d been so detailed I’d have thought he was reading his lines from a book, but I knew better – he knew this by heart. He’d probably picked it off one of his books about ‘transitioning into adulthood’ or something.
“Don’t tell Nagisa-kun I know this, but Makoto-senpai, there is a place where you can go,” Rei had told me, “They don’t have much as far as food is concerned, and it’s not at all that fancy…but there’s a spectacular view of the coastline. I think you and Haruka-san would like it there.”
“Thanks, Rei.” As I jotted down the address for later, I decided to ask him. “I’m curious, though…where’d you hear about this?”
…Rei didn’t answer that question for a long time, and he was so still and quiet that I was beginning to worry. When he finally did breathe, though, it’s deep and forced-out and it sounded like he’d been keeping it in for years. “I just. I did some research, when we were still in Iwatobi, nothing important at all. Please enjoy your date, Makoto-senpai.”
He’d cut the line then, in the middle of my goodbye, and I had found myself chuckling. Could it be…?
“Something wrong, Makoto?” Haru says, turning back to me, snapping me out of my flashback. He’s not even slightly out of breath as he speaks – turns out, when Rei said that the place would be ‘just a short walk away’, he didn’t mean a short walk away for normal people. He meant a short walk away, for himself, a track prodigy, and Nagisa.
I try to clutch on the railing to take a deep breath, only to somehow slip and end up grasping empty air. That is, before Haru reaches out to grab my hand.
“…thanks, Haru,” I say, to be specific I gasp, as Haru looks at me worriedly.
“I can carry you up there, if you want,” Haru says, and he’s not looking at me so I have no idea as to whether or not he’s joking.
“No, Haru, you’ll only tire yourself out,” I say, between puffs of air. Haru sighs, goes down a few steps, and slings my arm around his shoulder. For someone who had seemed to me very much like the personification of water itself, he’s very warm. “Thanks.”
Haru only frowns. “Your friend should’ve factored in that you were going to go out after work. You’re exhausted, Makoto.”
Now, Haru and Rei, while they haven’t been outright disliking each other, don’t really seem to get on – Nagisa says that it’s because Rei had been the one who’d made the ‘if you hurt him I will end you’ speech in Rin’s absence, and in times like this I am inclined to agree with him. “Well, it’s not Rei’s fault that there aren’t lots of date-worthy places in Iwatobi, Haru. Now, just a few steps more…”
Like Rei had said, it isn’t an overly-fancy place that greets us at the top of the stairs. But from what we can see it looks warm, and cozy, and in my opinion, not that I’m being a cheapskate here but if eating here costs less than it would’ve at all the other date places Nagisa had carelessly suggested then I guess I’d choose this over all of them in a heartbeat.
Especially since this place makes Haru’s eyes look like that.
If I had any artistic skill at all, this would be the kind of sight I’d paint and keep forever. Haru’s bright blue eyes are sparkling as he takes in the scenery – the large plate-glass windows, the dark night sky, the ocean waves lapping softly against the coast.
We’re lucky enough to get the table nearest the window – Haru doesn’t show it, but I know this makes him really happy. I smile and murmur my thanks to the waitress for sending us here, and from the corner of my eye I can very vaguely see Haru shooting her a deadly look as she giggles and rushes away.
I pretend I didn’t see him glaring daggers at her, and at every other person in the vicinity who he might think would have an interest in me. Hey, Haru’s a jealous kind of guy. If I were to stop him, it’d be like the soft drink bottles that get opened all of a sudden after they’ve been shaken. So it’d be better for me – and my blood pressure – if I were to let him release these bad feelings in small amounts.
…still, he’s got to stop glaring them to death somehow, but it doesn’t seem like he’s thought of stopping anytime soon. “Haru. Haru?”
“Hm?”
“What’ll you be getting?” I ask, trying to get Haru’s attention back to the menus and away from the nice ladies who seem to now be huddled behind counters and sighing wistfully. “I think I’ll go for the pasta. You?”
Haru doesn’t even spare the menu a second glance. “…mackerel.”
“Of course,” I say, humming to myself. “But they don’t have mackerel, Haru...as far as fishes are concerned though: salmon, or tuna?”
“Neither, I guess,” Haru sighs, audibly, as if going through the choices physically pained him. Which it does, to some extent at least - Haru doesn't like choosing stuff, which is kind of why I ended up making the choices for him. Only thing is, I really have no idea what he'd eat if he doesn't wanna choose all the fishes that weren't mackerel.
"Still, you've got to eat something," I say, clicking my tongue as I flip through the menu for something he'd like. Is there chicken in here anywhere…?
Haru groans. "Fine, I'll be having you."
The earth doesn't stop turning.
The stars don't stop shining either.
But right now my eyes are opened very wide and my throat feels very dry and I'm pretty sure I'm not breathing. Did Haru just say that??
It's just now that the words sunk in, apparently, because suddenly his cheeks flush an uncharacteristic red and he turns away from me, looking at the ocean as if he planned to strike it with any laser-powered-eyes he just might have. "- I mean. What you're having. I'll be having what you're having."
I chuckle faintly because I don't know what else to do with myself - because Rin once told me those were called Freudian slips and they said what you really meant to say even if you didn't want to. If Haru had really meant that he wanted me, then…
"Never thought you for a pasta liker, Haru."
"I've no opinion on pasta, I really don't like or dislike it," Haru says, face blankly pale once more as he snaps the menu closed in one graceful flick of his wrist. "But when you've spent a year in Italy eating nothing but, you get used to it."
I always knew that Haru had his education overseas, but he never really did tell me much about it, and I didn't ask about it either. Mainly because the story would end with him attempting to drown himself, and we both tend to not want to talk about it often.
"You had any favourites then?"
"I'm a boring traveler. So no, I mainly just stuck with spaghetti." Haru says, with a small upward tilt of the mouth that might be called a smile. "There was a good gelato place near my apartment, too. Nagisa would've loved it there.'
I chuckle. "Guess Rei'd have to start saving up, then."
"Why would he?"
"Haven't you noticed already? Rei spoils Nagisa, like, a lot." I say, raising a hand to get a waitress' attention. "For example, if Nagisa ever asked him for the moon, Rei'd complain for a week, then he'd show up on the seventh day with the moon and a couple of stars for good measure."
"Huh," Haru starts, thoughtfully, but that's when the waitress finally comes to take our order so I never get to hear how that sentence ends.
Somewhere along the third stagger home it comes to me to think that maybe I’d drunk a little too much.
Somewhere along Haru’s first giggle, it comes to me to think that maybe he’d drunk a little too much, as well.
“Haruuu, you’re so pretty,” I hear myself say, running a hand through his soft hair. It’s softer than…a thing. A really soft thing. “You’re so pretty, I better – hic! – be careful or Rei’d take you from me.”
“He won’t,” I hear Haru say, and everything about him is pretty. So, so pretty. He’s even smiling. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“Then he’s stupid. Stuuuuupid. Haru is wonderful.”
“That’s always good to hear,” Haru says, pulling me up. Is he pulling me up? I think he’s pulling me up, ‘cuz I feel warm but we’re wearing coats for the cold and it’d be nice if I were warm because he’s got his arm around me. “Just a little bit more, Makoto.”
I frown. “I don’t wanna. Don’t wanna wanna…no.”
“My place is the closest…heh,” Haru breaks off to muffle a laugh with the back of his hand, and eventually fail, that’s what happens when his laugh is too nice and his hands too slim to muffle anything. “The twins did say I could bring you back tomorrow…”
“Nn?”
“C’mon, Makoto, goo.” Haru grins, actually grins, and even though I know I’m actually really supposed to be drunk right now I have to stop and look at him some more because that smile is brilliant, it really is, and if drinking a little was all it took to make him smile that nicely then I’d gladly ply him with wine every day. Wait that sounded wrong. In a lot of ways. I didn’t even notice that he’d begun slurring his speech, too.
As it turns out Haru’s place is closer to the coastal resto than our house is, ‘cuz when he hauls me past his front door I’m less out of breath than I had been when we were on our way to…on our way. Anyway. Being drunk is confusing.
Haru’s humming some tune I don’t recognize as he kicks off his shoes and bends down to – the drunkenness has taken my focus off a lot of things, so I can’t be too sure, but this is my guess – take my own shoes off for me. “Makoto, can you stand up?”
“Of course I stand up, Haru, I do lots of things.” I say, but as Haru hauls me to my feet – again, he’s surprisingly strong, or maybe all the romcoms are true and love is what makes people strong and…stuff like that – I stagger. Haru whistles.
“Still packing muscle, huh, Makoto.”
If I weren’t as drunk as I felt then I’d probably flush red, dig a hole, and live in it for the rest of my life because it’s Haru saying that, and he’s got a hand on my abdomen and I think between his fond eyes and that almost obscene lip-licking I just wanna stop thinking and lie down a lot, wallow in my embarrassment. But as it is I’m drunk, he’s probably even drunker…drunkest? Is that a word?
“Yeah, well, Haru’s still slim as ever…and strong…and, and handsome,” I mumble, slumping over and somehow landing somewhere in the middle of Haru’s collarbones. “I love Haru so much.”
Haru stills, and I find myself worried all of a sudden. He never really could tell me when his memories would get wiped out all over again – seeing as he can’t really remember when it happens in the first place, amnesia is confusing like that – but I’d guessed it’d happen somewhere in between night and the early morning. Could it be…he’d forgotten why we’re here, again?
These worries are calmed, however, when Haru’s hand reaches out to muss my hair. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”
Somehow we get cleaned and dried and redressed – I’m too hung over on the wine and the feel of Haru’s hands on my skin to realize any other specifics – and Haru hauls me to bed, all six-feet-something of me. If I wasn’t in love and impressed with him already, then the way he does all this while also drunk and not even breaking a sweat would’ve done the trick.
He’s about to take a pillow and sleep on his couch – I think? He’s taken a pillow, that’s for sure, and he’s leaving me. I decide, right then and there, that I am sick of Haru leaving me. “No, stay.”
“But Makoto, when I wake up – the nightmares –”
I don’t let him finish his sentence, I don’t think I really want to but what I want to do is this: I pull him closer and wrap him in my arms. “– I’ll shoo them away. Kick them. If I have to. Just please Haru, stay with me.”
Haru sighs, just a little exhalation of breath, but we’re so close I can hear his heartbeat, and if that weren’t enough my drunkenness only serves to heighten my sensations. So his heartbeat sounds a little louder, his eyes look a little brighter. His lips look like they’d feel a little softer…
As Haru reaches behind me to turn the light off, I suddenly decide to be bold and nudge a kiss to his lips. Warm and sweet and soft like I remembered. “Good night,” I mumble as we pull apart, our noses still touching.
“Good night,” Haru murmurs back, and as he turns off the lights he kisses me in turn and I think he says something that sort of sounds like ‘love you too’ against my lips, but I can’t be too sure and either way, he doesn’t need to tell me because I know that for a doubt anyway. I love Haru, and Haru loves me.
So basically, we’re both exactly where we need to be.
When I wake up, Haru’s looking at me as if I’m the most spectacular pool he’d ever seen in all the world, which is more than a little flattering.
“Good morning,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and with those two words alone I know: he remembers. There’s a little flash of metal by his other hand – probably the recorder I got him for Christmas – and he doesn’t look at me like I’m someone he isn’t sure he knows, so that’s definitely it. So that gets me to wondering – how long has he been up?
How long did it take for him to remember me?
If ever we were to stay like this for longer – for always, for forever, sharing the same bed and home and mind and love and heart – would there ever be a day where we’d wake up and I’d have to see him forget that he loves me all over again?
But Haru’s smile grows even softer, and I can feel the corners of my mouth rise up in turn, and I know it’s not at all mature for me to do so but this is what I do: I decide that these are questions I shall leave aside for later.
“Good morning,” I say, and oh wow my voice actually sounds like that now I must really not be a strong drinker. “You don’t think you have any…”
“Wait here, I’ll get us some soup,” Haru says, pressing a finger to my lips and looking oddly smug that he’d managed to decipher what I’d need when I woke up. Not that I’m surprised – because if you ask me, nothing could ever get in the way of our mental synchronization, not even that amnesia. “And asprin. You need anything else, Makoto?”
Right now my head is spinning and my body feels very much like I’ve gone seven rounds in a martial arts duel, with Ran. So I’m at the point where I don’t think I could say anything, but from the look on Haru’s face when he sees it, I think my expression’s more than enough to say what I want to say.
I’ve already got everything I need, I think, and it’s right here in front of me.