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Hate is a strong word.
Nanase Haruka doesn't hate Shigino Kisumi. Not precisely, anyway. It would be fair to say that he finds Kisumi annoying. Irritating. Aggravating. It might even be fair to say that he feels a highly uncharacteristic desire to slap Kisumi's amiable, too-pretty face every time he sees him. Haru is generally a laid-back and nonviolent guy, but he really, really wants to smack Kisumi right across his face. Hard, too.
But it's not like he hates him.
Kisumi is... well, he's spectacular. Even Haru, who rarely takes note of anyone's physical appearance, has noticed. Kisumi has sakura-pink hair, along with iris-purple eyes, and he's taller than Haru, almost as tall as Haru's best friend Tachibana Makoto. He's undeniably striking. And when he's around, Haru feels oddly...
Invisible.
Haru shouldn't mind this. Ordinarily he doesn't like to be looked at, or paid attention to. He is by nature quiet, standoffish, and most people don't pay a lot of attention to his presence.
But Makoto does.
And maybe that's the problem.
It's not that he's jealous, per se. It's just that Makoto is his best friend, his very best friend in the entire world. And yet ever since middle school, whenever Kisumi's been around, Haru has this weird sense that Makoto is looking at Kisumi instead of him. That his eyes, just like everyone else's, are naturally drawn to Kisumi's striking coloring and height and his-- well, his disgustingly handsome face.
Haru doesn't like Makoto looking at Kisumi instead of him. He really doesn't. It bugs him, somehow, makes something strange and alien burn hot in his chest.
But he's not jealous, and he doesn't hate Kisumi.
He just really, really, really wants to avoid the guy, pretty much for the rest of his life.
So of course, Kisumi is the first person he and Makoto run into when they arrive in Tokyo.
*****
Back in their hotel room, Makoto can't quit talking about how cool it is that they ran into Kisumi-- of all people! he says delightedly, wiggling like an overexcited puppy. In Tokyo, Haru, isn't that amazing?
As far as Haru is concerned, it's the furthest thing from amazing. In fact the only thing amazing about it is what an amazingly bad stroke of luck it is that Kisumi is working at his uncle's real estate company over the spring break. Haru had planned on having a nice visit to Tokyo, the city where he and Makoto are both going to school, and he'd been looking forward to a pleasant few days spent exploring and wandering and seeing the sights with his best friend. And now, who should show up, but...
He barely refrains from throwing the TV remote across the room. It's bad enough that he had to see Kisumi, had to watch Makoto staring at the other guy, fawning over him. Does Makoto really have to talk about him, too?
"Yeah," he says shortly. "Amazing."
"Awwwww, Haru. Don't be like that. I know he annoys you, but he's a good guy."
Haru doubts that. He refrains from saying so, though, and stares coolly at the television as he flicks through channels without the slightest interest as to what's on the screen.
"Haruuuuuu." Makoto gives his most beseeching whine, and when Haru slides an unwilling glance in his direction, he finds plaintive green eyes staring at him. "Come on. Let's go have dinner somewhere nice."
There is absolutely nothing cute about Makoto's whiny tone, especially when combined with his tragic puppydog eyes, and Haru definitely does not feel the corners of his mouth twitching as they try to curve upward. He fixes Makoto with his most stoic gaze, refusing to show any emotion at all, and speaks in a clipped tone.
"Fine."
Makoto beams, and leaps off his own bed, bounding toward the door with happy enthusiasm. Haru sighs, and stands up to follow.
At least for the rest of tonight, he doesn't have to think about Shigino Kisumi any more.
*****
The next two days, however, are an irritating whirlwind of hours spent in Kisumi's deeply aggravating company. It takes a while to find the right apartment-- one doesn't have a bathtub (why would you even bother showing me this? Haru wonders) and another is supposedly haunted by the ghost of a hapless university student who was murdered there. Haru thinks that's ludicrous, but Makoto clutches his shoulders from behind, trembling, and Haru sighs and announces he can't take this one, either.
At last they find one that is perfect for Haru-- close to his campus, a decent size, and best of all, a bathtub that reminds him of his tub at home. He loves it. The only thing wrong with it is that... well, Makoto won't be sharing it with him. But Makoto has already picked out an apartment, long before he knew that Haru was coming to Tokyo as well, and his is approximately the size and shape of a broom closet. Two people couldn't comfortably live together there.
This apartment, Haru thinks sorrowfully, has plenty of room for both of them. It even has two bedrooms. If only--
But Makoto already paid the deposit on his, so Haru sighs, signs the lease, and firmly puts if only out of his head.
*****
Haru has been in Tokyo for a week, and Makoto has been there for barely three days, when they fly back to their home town of Iwatobi to see Rin off to Australia.
Makoto's apartment is a messy sea of boxes, but he laughs airily and waves a dismissive hand when Haru offers to help him unpack-- I can handle it, don't worry, Haru-chan! Haru knows that Makoto is utterly helpless when it comes to organizing, and that at some point he will collapse into a pathetic heap and admit he can't do it all by himself. Whereupon Haru will come over, looking very dour to conceal his feelings of triumph, and organize his apartment completely in a ridiculously brief period of time.
But right now, Makoto is still striving to be Grown-up and Independent and Competent, so Haru hasn't come over to save his ass... yet. Makoto takes the train over to his apartment instead, pulls him out of the bathtub with a cheerful Ohayou, Haru-chan!, and the two of them race for the airport.
Naturally, after all that rushing, their flight is delayed. Annoyed, they find a restaurant in the airport and sit down to wait. They're sharing a soda and quietly comparing their first experiences in Tokyo, when suddenly--
"Makoto! Haru!"
Makoto's face lights up, and he waves joyfully at someone behind Haru. Haru doesn't have to look around to know who it is.
"Hello, Kisumi," he sighs.
"You're so cold, Haru." Kisumi drapes an arm over his shoulders, pouting. His fluffy pink hair is overgrown, hanging into his purple eyes, and he has the rumpled look of someone who's been on a long and exhausting flight, yet he manages to look as much like a movie star as ever. Haru imagines slapping him, for approximately the eight hundredth time, but he knows Makoto wouldn't like it, so he forces himself to behave. He does manage to shrug Kisumi's arm off, though.
The other man sits down beside Makoto, slinging his arm across Makoto's shoulders instead. Haru feels something hot burn inside his chest, and only swallows it back with an effort.
"I'm really glad I ran into you guys," Kisumi is saying. "I have a big problem, a huge problem, and I was thinking maybe you could help me with it. See, I was on the waiting list for a university here in Tokyo, and they finally admitted me, but it was just a couple weeks ago, and I haven't been able to find an apartment."
"Your uncle owns a real estate agency," Haru points out.
"I know! It's crazy how hard it can be to find apartments around the universities this time of year! Anyway, I got to thinking, and I remembered I showed you that really big apartment, Haru, the one with two bedrooms, and I was wondering--"
"No," Haru says.
"Awww, Haru, you're so cold."
"Haruuuuuu." Makoto has put on his whiny voice and his puppydog eyes, a combination Haru knows from previous experience to be extremely difficult to resist. "You don't really need two bedrooms, do you? If Kisumi needs a place to stay..."
"Why can't he stay with his uncle?"
"We don't get along. He's old-fashioned, and if it was up to him I'd never even look at a girl, let alone-- well, I really need a bachelor pad. Anyway--" Kisumi's voice becomes almost painfully bright and cheerful. "It's only for freshman year, Haru!"
Haru thinks of spending an entire year with Kisumi as his roommate, and the thought makes the heat in his chest surge into his throat, choking him. He does not like Kisumi, damn it. Makoto can't seriously expect him to go along with this.
But a quick glance in his friend's direction tells him that yes, Makoto does. Makoto is wearing his hopeful, expectant look, the expression that says Surely you aren't going to let me down, Haru? Can't you be big, just this once? Kisumi is our friend, after all...
Haru presses his lips together in a stubborn line, and Kisumi sighs.
"Oh, well, fine. Makoto will let me stay with him, then. Won't you, Makoto?"
At the thought of Makoto sharing his tiny apartment with Kisumi, practically tripping over him at all hours of the day (when they're both getting ready for bed, half-naked) (or when they're just waking up in the morning, bleary-eyed and rumpled and bare-chested) (stumbling into the tiny bathroom and bumping into one another) (their hands brushing together by accident) (and this is such an odd series of thoughts and he doesn't quite know why he's thinking these things) (or why those peculiar images make the heat in his chest flame into rage), Haru stiffens.
"His apartment is way too small for a roommate," he snaps.
"Oh, it's all right, Haru-chan," Makoto says, his voice gentle. "If Kisumi really needs a place to stay--"
"Don't be an idiot, Makoto. If Kisumi needs a place that badly, you can just move in with me, and Kisumi can take your apartment. Just let him pay you back for the deposit and pay the rent from now on. That'd make a lot more sense."
Makoto's eyes brighten, glowing a brilliant green. Kisumi glances between the two of them, taking in Makoto's happy expression, along with the single Coke they've been sharing. He snorts.
"I know I told you guys this the last time I saw you, but the two of you are really, really... close."
Haru isn't sure he likes the way Kisumi emphasizes close. He and Makoto have always been friends, after all, so why wouldn't they be close? It's perfectly normal. Besides, he'd much rather share an apartment with someone he likes than Kisumi, of all people.
Makoto's cheeks are flushing a hot shade of pink, for no reason that Haru can determine, but he speaks in a steady voice.
"You're right, Haru. That's probably the most sensible solution. If that works for you, Kisumi, it'd be fine with us."
Haru tunes out the rest of the conversation, which is a brief discussion of the rent, the lease, and the location, and then Kisumi saying dumb things like oh my God guys this is so awesome and oh wow I can't thank you enough and you guys are the greatest, let's stay in touch okay? Haru doesn't care that much about the details, now that it's settled. Now that Makoto is going to be with him, in his apartment.
No, their apartment.
He looks up to see Makoto beaming at him, open and honest with his emotions, as always. Haru has always found it hard to name his feelings, let alone show them to the world, but deep in his chest, he feels the same overwhelming emotion that he can see shining on his friend's face. He realizes that he is is happy, very happy, to be sharing an apartment with Makoto.
He remembers Kisumi's slightly mocking words-- the two of you are really, really close-- and wonders at his own uncharacteristic joy. Why, precisely, is he so happy about this, anyway? Is Kisumi right? Is there something kind of, well, weird about his relationship with Makoto?
It's not weird, he tells himself. Makoto and I have always been this way. And we'll always be this way.
But deep down, he wonders. Will the two of them actually remain the same?
Or will Tokyo... change them, somehow?
He shoves his vague concerns aside, and lets himself think about how nice it will be to have Makoto around all the time, to share a space with him. It's odd how right that feels, like it was always supposed to happen that way, sooner or later. Maybe it's just because he and Makoto have lived next door to one another for so long that living seven whole miles apart seems like a terrible distance. Or maybe it's because Tokyo is a big, scary place, and (although he doesn't like to admit it) Haru would feel a little better if he were having all these new and strange experiences with Makoto's steady, reassuring presence at his side.
But most likely, it's just that it feels like something in Haru has been waiting for this day, ever since the night Makoto announced he was going to Tokyo, and leaving Haru behind. On some level, Haru had felt that the two of them parting ways simply wasn't right, that neither of them could properly survive without the other. The news that Makoto was leaving Iwatobi had left him feeling unmoored, like a fishing boat drifting aimlessly with the waves.
He hadn't chosen a university in Tokyo because he'd been trying to follow Makoto, but because he'd been accepted at one of the best athletic schools in Japan, which just happened to be located in the city. Even so, knowing that he and Makoto would be together in the city had made him feel that the world had steadied again. And now, knowing that he'll not only be near Makoto, but actually living with him... well, it feels almost like fate, somehow.
Makoto is still talking to Kisumi, but his gaze keeps drifting toward Haru, as if drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull. Their eyes meet, and Makoto smiles, a small, gentle smile that's meant only for Haru. And for the first time, Haru doesn't feel like he's invisible next to Kisumi, despite his brilliant coloration and his revoltingly handsome face and his broad shoulders. Haru doesn't even feel irritated by him.
Because Makoto isn't looking at Kisumi. He's looking at Haru, his eyes bright and happy.
Haru looks back at him, a small smile of his own quirking his lips, and for a moment it's like they're alone, like Kisumi isn't even there, like even the noisy crowds of people in the airport have vanished into thin air. For a brief, quiet moment, it's only Haru and Makoto, just like they always have been and always are and always will be.
Together.