Work Text:
Haiji Kiyose was not a recluse nor was his heart filled with distrust. He was secretive, perhaps, but not with ill intent. Haiji was a lot of things, a complex, stubborn and mysterious man; yet what he really was, was a burden to himself. He had always known that the team was important, yet still he could never fully rely on someone emotionally. Bags would underscore his eyes and if someone would notice, with a sly remark and sleek charisma Haiji would dose any flame of concern with water, smoothly and unnoticed.
Haiji was the nurturer, not the nurtured. He didn't know how to accept warmth or how to depend on it. The thought of someone caring for him never disgusted him, but rather he felt perplexed. He wasn't entirely sure of when this started, however, it mostly likely sprouted the instant he stepped foot into the track-- the moment he fell in love and broke his heart. That's when he began to strain himself physically and mentally for a simple glance from his father without a breath of complaint. Haiji ignored his own well-being for his father's approval--that's when the curse sunk its fangs into him. Finally, it all came boiling to the surface and he couldn't even cry for help or try again-- he just began to hate the world, running, and himself.
Haiji hurt. Suffocating him, he drowned in his own grief, not from losing running but the realization that his love and reason was futile. Yet, something tormented him even more than the hatred he held for the world and his injured leg: alienation. He clung to his track shoes until his fingertips began to bleed and he launched them into the air and he came crashing down to the track field along with them. More crippling than the tremors in his body from his tears and contracting muscles was his heart stopping when he raised his head to find himself alone.
It was then that Haiji realized that the world was cruel and he could never depend emotionally on others. It wasn't distrust nor detachment, it was just the mold he was born to fit. Like the cast firming his leg, it had shaped him through his experience, it groomed him to be independent and keep part of him to himself. There was not one person who had the privilege to see the full Haiji, he'd always kept himself at a waning moon. Not even those who had consider him close or a friend or even lived with him understood him or his past.
That is, until Kakeru entered his life. And as swiftly and deftly he entered he healed the crevice that formed in the man's heart. Love at first sight may seem foolish, but the second Kakeru soared past him, in the dust he left behind Haiji swore he saw a glimmer of an answer. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the rush he felt and the faint possibility was enough to make him want to follow this man's journey for the rest of his life. In Kakeru, Haiji could have sworn he saw the moon, the stars, and the sky align just for a moment to tell him it was okay to hope and try.
So he let himself be carried away. And he pushed himself. And he broke. Not once, but twice; however, they were different than his time in high school.
The first time was when he collapsed in Chikuseisou. Overexertion, the inability to rely on others. He really was the same as he always had been, where was the answer he was so desperately seeking? When he finally awoke the day after, next to Haiji laid the younger man, his thin eyelashes twitching in his sleep and his eyebrows contorting. Despite the serious situation he was in, Haiji laughed chagrin. Even in his sleep Kakeru had the resemblance of a feral cat unable to find his proper place in the world. Kakeru's face relaxed and Haiji fought the urge to reach out. Is he running? He wondered. Even in his sleep, Haiji wanted to follow Kakeru and watch him forever.
The second time was when he crossed the finish line of Hakone Ekiden, the time when he felt the muscles in he legs snap for good; when he for sure, his tragic first love met its end. Although his body had finally broke; his heart didn't nor did his mind. When he finally crossed the finish line and his path came to its end, waiting there opened arm and there to catch him was his answer to his question all along. The answer that had always been there to support him even though he never asked for it. His trek had met its end, yet he'd never been happier. He had relayed his love.
Just like his leg, Haiji's heart mended in a weird way, it would never be the same again. To him his heart and his emotions were still a burden. And in the cold, he could still feel the sting in his leg and the ache in his heart reminding him it was still there. And when Nira tugged the leash a little too hard, he was reminded by the distinct throb and the throttle of his knee of his first love coming to an end.
Yet the purse of the powdery snow next to him, an orange doreta flashing into his view, and the calloused and warm hands brought him back to reality. With just that, Haiji was saved. He didn't say a word and turned to look at Kakeru who had stopped next to him. Breathless, he couldn't say anything, yet Kakeru didn't need him to.
Kakeru looked at him with a thin smile, but full of a tender emotion that rushed straight into Haiji's heart. Haiji wasn't alone, and he would never be alone. He had Kakeru forever. Kakeru was different from everyone else; Haiji never had to say anything and Kakeru never asked, but knew. He didn't have to speak and could still save Haiji in any form. And in the snow, that came in the form of the caress and tug of their pinkies.
Haiji let out a breath he forgot he ever took, and returned a tight, yet soothed squeeze. Haiji never felt the need to rely on another person-- it wasn't distrust or hate with the world; yet every since Kakeru entered his life; he began to think he wanted to try.