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Haruka is in love with the color red.
His love of red doesn’t stick to a specific shade. There are days where he’s drawn to pink, or maybe it will be purple, or even both.
At the age of three, Haruka has a red inner tube, and he’s floating in the blue waters of Iwatobi’s public pool. Kicking his legs, he paddles closer and closer to his father, who has his arms wide open. He’s beaming, his smile as bright as the sun.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, lifting Haruka into his arms and kissing at his forehead. Haruka struggles against him, wanting to get back into the water and into the inner tube.
His father laughs, and his mother snaps a photo of her son, clapping as he manages to climb into the inner tube on his own.
A few days later, the unforgiving claws of a stray cat pierces his skin and draws blood. But Haruka doesn’t cry because of that. He cries because those same claws destroy his favorite possession.
His mother cradles him and wipes his tears. “We’ll buy you a new one.”
“I don’t want a new one.”
Haruka isn’t sure where that broken inner tube disappears to, but within a week, he’s forgotten about it.
--
When Haruka is five, he picks out a new pair of shoes. They’re a bright red with white laces, and his heart pounds with excitement as he thinks about the compliments he’ll get from neighbors and his parent’s friends.
Wearing them out of the store, he holds his mother’s hand as they stroll together down the sidewalks. His stride is proud and his chin is pointed up, and he smiles widely when his mother giggles.
“Do you like your new shoes, Haruka?”
“Yes!”
That night, he lays in bed and smiles to himself, thinking about how he’ll get to wear those red shoes again tomorrow, and the day after that, and then through the rest of the week. He wonders if Makoto will compliment them, or maybe Tamura-san.
Obviously he won’t point them out himself. He’ll wait patiently.
No one notices, and Haruka can pout all he wants, but he knows it won’t make a difference.
For a year, he wears those shoes through sunshine, rain, and snow. He treks through mud and through sand, and he doesn’t notice when the vibrant red begins to fade and stain.
After that year, he’s grown out of his shoes, and they’re shoved somewhere in the back of his closet.
His next pair is blue.
--
Haruka is seven. He’s sitting at the park with Makoto and his family, the weather is warm and the sun is high in the sky, but he’s too busy to play with Makoto and the other kids in the sandbox.
Instead, he’s kneeling in front of one of the park’s various gardens, staring at the petals of the red flowers that have been blooming recently. Butterflies flutter between them, the colors of their wings a striking contrast on the flower.
“Haruka-kun?”
Haruka jumps when Makoto’s mother is suddenly beside him and he gives a little huff, aggravated the scare she gave him, and returns his gaze to the garden. She smiles and kneels down, reaching out and plucking one of the flowers.
“Haruka-kun, do you like these?”
“I guess.”
“Would you like to keep some?”
“They’ll die.” He wasn’t dumb. The garden at his home would wilt over time and waste away, and these would too.
“They don’t have to,” she hums, already picking a few more. Haruka raises an eyebrow, obviously curious at her words, and she laughs. “Help me pick more, okay? I’ll show you and Makoto when we get home.”
Soon enough, they have a good amount, all of the flowers in Haruka’s small hands showing off that gorgeous red color. Makoto had joined in at some point, suggested that Haru pick something other than red, but Haruka pays him no mind. He doesn’t want anything other than red.
At the Tachibana household, Makoto’s mother teaches the two young boys how to press flowers. In an hour, Haruka is holding an album of red petals, eyes shining.
“See? Now you can keep them forever.” She pets his head, and then moves on to start dinner.
“Haru-chan,” Makoto starts, clutching his own album close with his huge smile, “Why do you like red so much?”
Haruka opens his mouth to answer, but then he realizes he can’t say anything.
He doesn’t even know himself.
--
At nine, Haruka finds himself in an antique shop, clinging to his mother’s skirt as she admires rows upon rows of old things he has no interest in. Eventually, he lets go, leaves her to wander around the small store by himself and desperately avoid eye contact with the elderly woman who owns it.
It’s boring, way too dusty, and kind of smells. Everything looks fragile to him, and he shoves his hands in his pockets to avoid touching anything. He isn’t a very curious child in the first place, so he should be safe.
He passes one shelf. Something glints, catches his attention, but it’s gone a second later. Taking one step back, the light catches whatever he saw perfectly, and he finds himself approaching the shelf with interest piqued.
Grabbing the necklace by it’s silver chain, he lifts it up, lets the light catch it again, and he smiles. A pendant with a red gem attached to it’s end, dangling, glowing. It’s beautiful.
“Haruka?”
“Mom, can I have this?”
Taking it from him, his mother examines the necklace and finally gives her hopeful son a smile. Haruka hardly asks for anything, and those blue eyes of his are shimmering. “Of course. It’s very pretty. Will you wear it?”
Shaking his head, he holds his palm out and she gives it back to him. “No. I think I’ll hang it up.”
“That’s a good idea.”
After paying for it, the necklace is placed in a small brown bag and handed to Haruka, who tucks it close to his chest and thanks his mother. She waves it off, states that he’s been a good boy, that he deserved it.
On their way home, Haruka tugs at the hem of her shirt, asking for her attention. “Mom, if it were yours, what would you do with it?”
“Hm…” Placing a finger to her chin, she thinks it over before answering her son. “Maybe give it to someone I love?”
“Like dad?”
She laughs and shrugs her shoulders. “Perhaps?”
Haruka shows his regular, tiny as can be smile and peeks inside the bag, barely being able to see the red color. Someone he loves.
Well, he doesn’t have anyone like that.
When he gets home, he hangs it off of one of the knobs on his desk drawer, and rushes downstairs when his mother announces that dinner is ready.
It’s only a month before it gets misplaced.
--
Eleven years old and Haruka wins first place in a swim meet.
Shaking the droplets of water from his hair, he’s ready to go find Makoto, earn a medal of some sort. Most of all, he’s ready to go home.
He makes the choice of giving a sidelong glance in his opponents direction, the one who swam in the lane neighboring his own. His breathing catches in his throat.
He’s overwhelmed in an instant, drawn in by a certain warmth, by the glow of that color red he’s grown so fond of.
But this hue feels different.
“His name is Matsuoka,” Makoto answers when Haruka asks.
That name rings in Haruka’s ears, that beautiful red remains in his line of vision, even when the two opponents part ways.
--
It isn’t a year later when that red returns to him, overwhelms him again.
“My name is Matsuoka Rin!”
“Nanase, swim in the relay with me!”
“Romantic, isn’t it?”
Haruka never realized how important the color red was to him until it was gone.
--
It’s been almost a year since Rin left for Australia. Haruka finds himself thinking about the other boy too much for his own personal comfort.
No shade of red has been as vibrant since then.
When he finds Rin standing on the other side of the train tracks, Haruka rushes to him, heart racing.
But something is off, and he can’t quite say what.
“Wait, Rin!” He grabs for Rin’s wrist, makes him stay put. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting strange today.”
When Rin pulls away from his grasp, Haruka is left stunned, dumbfounded, scared.
“I quit,” Rin mutters, just quiet enough to where Haruka has to strain his ears to catch what he’s saying. He isn’t sure if he wants to hear or not.
“Huh?”
“I’m done swimming.”
All Haruka does is watch the other run off, not once looking back in his direction. He can’t bring himself to chase after Rin.
After that, red fades from Haruka’s life.
--
At the age of sixteen, Haruka’s life seems to lack color of any kind.
Cherry blossoms are blooming in the world around him, falling at his feet. They’re pink, and they’re beautiful, but Haruka walks over them without giving the petals a second thought.
Later, he’s standing in the abandoned swim club with Makoto and Nagisa, letting Nagisa take the lead as they walked the empty hallways. It’s dark, almost colorless, and he sees a shadow out of the corner of his eye.
There’s a light snapping noise, a greeting that Haruka barely catches, and a gaze he can’t forget.
It’s been years since the color red had bloomed so intensely around him.
Haruka realizes he missed it more than he had thought.
--
Rin is cheering in the lane next to his, climbing out of the water, hovering above him with a mocking and prideful smile.
“Haru. I win.”
Good for you.
“This means I’ll never swim with you again.”
Ah.
“Never.”
It’s gone again.
--
Drifting in the pool, letting the waves rock him back and forth, Haruka watches the night sky with a heavy heart.
He can recall loving the color red.
He knows he still does.
--
“Why?”
The first tear has already fallen, and Haru has to resist the urge to lift his hand, wipe away the ones that are threatening to spill over.
“Why can’t I be free?”
Rin’s eyes are beautiful.
So is his smile.
Everything about Rin is absolutely gorgeous.
Haruka’s chest is warm.
The red he fell in love with was back.
This time, he won’t let it leave again.
--
It’s spring and Haruka is eighteen now, a new high school graduate, moving to Tokyo with high hopes for his future.
Cherry blossoms are in bloom again, and Rin is readying himself for his move to Australia. Haruka feels his stomach twist, not liking how familiar this situation is.
“What’s wrong, Haru?” Rin asks, easily noticing the grave expression that Haruka is wearing.
“It’s nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Rin doesn’t ask further and instead grabs for Haruka’s hand, lacing their fingers together as a toothy grin grows. They’re at a viewing together. Rin had wanted to go before he left the country.
The petals are pink.
Of course they are.
It’s only natural.
“Aren’t they pretty?” Rin is busy admiring them, but he doesn’t let go of Haruka’s hand, doesn’t loosen his hold. “Thanks for bringing me, Haru.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that all you can say?”
Rin’s laugh is warm. Haruka listens to it in silence before a small smile of his own forms.
An hour later, Rin is plucking a fallen blossom from his hair, snorting. “Are there anymore? I don’t think pink suits me.”
Haruka brushes his fingers through the long locks of hair, admires the soft blush that dusts Rin’s cheeks. His fingers dance at the nape of Rin’s neck and he pulls the other in, letting their lips meet, and he lingers. They’re alone in this spot, shaded by the tree branches that hover above them.
When Haruka pulls back, his hand rests on Rin’s cheek, and Rin is beaming from ear to ear.
“What an effective way of checking, Haru.” When Haruka doesn’t respond to the teasing and only stares at Rin with an adoring gaze, Rin grows flustered, turns his eyes away. “What?”
“Pink looks fine on you, but...” Haruka trails off, shifting and leaning forward, pressing his face against the crook of Rin’s neck. He feels Rin’s hands on his back, rubbing circles through the fabric of his shirt.
“But what?”
“Red suits you better.”
--
Not many years have passed when Haruka finds himself in an enormous stadium in a foreign country, surrounded by thousands of spectators. He would be nervous if he didn’t have Rin by his side, their hands brushing every so often.
Rin is trembling, Haruka notices. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. His smile is larger than life itself.
Their uniforms sport a gorgeous red, and it’s almost their time to represent their nation.
--
It’s Haruka’s birthday. Today, he turns twenty-six, and he ignores Rin’s comments on how he’s becoming an old man.
They’re too busy to go out and celebrate. Having just moved into their new apartment, it’s been constant unpacking and organizing. Rin says he wants to do something special for Haruka, but Haruka says that Rin being with him is special enough.
He smiles when Rin goes red in the face. Not much has changed since they were teenagers.
Disregarding his protests, Rin goes out anyways, stating that he’ll be buying Haruka a cake. He slams the door before Haruka can even get the word mackerel out.
With an exasperated yet amused sigh, Haruka kneels down on the floor, cutting boxes open and sifting through the belongings inside. He isn’t able to count the amount of swimsuits that the two of them own, and moves to a different box instead.
This is one he doesn’t remember packing. He recognizes his mother’s handwriting on top of it with ease and smiles, remembering how his parent’s had insisted they help him pack. Tearing the tape off and opening the flaps, he peers inside, cocks his head to the side, and grabs for the first thing he sees.
A little white album is in his hands, and he’s trying to remember where he’s seen this. It’s old, judging from the musty odor, but it’s condition is still good. Carefully, he opens it, and he’s flooded with memories of a summer day at the Tachibana household.
Little pressed flowers decorate the inside of the book, and his heart swells. All of them are red, just as vibrant as the day he had picked them. Had he loved this color back then, too? His memory is just a little fuzzy.
Placing the album aside, thinking of placing it below where their golden medals hang on the wall, he’s back to going through the box, pulling sweaters out and folding them when he hears a thud against the floor. Peering down, the light filtering through the windows catches something, makes it glint and shine.
Ah, he remembers this, too.
Holding the pendant up, he watches the red stone dangle and turn, glowing. It’s color has faded over time, but in his eyes, it’s as beautiful as the day his mother bought it for him.
“Mom, if it were yours, what would you do with it?”
“Maybe give it to someone I love?”
Haruka can hear his mother’s words as clear as day and he laughs, runs his fingers through his hair, and pockets the pendant.
Someone he loves.
It isn’t long before Rin returns home, a white box in his hands, decorated with a gaudy red bow on top. Haruka stands to greet him, presses a kiss to his cheek, and snorts.
“Fancy.”
“Shut up. It’s special, remember?”
“Yeah. I’ll make tea.”
When they’re both seated with their own slices of the birthday cake in front of them, Haruka thanks Rin once before taking a bite. He notices that Rin is hesitating, glowering at the treat before him.
“You don’t like sweets,” he speaks, and Rin grunts, mumbling something about Haruka stating the obvious.
“Well, I can deal with it for one day, can’t I?”
“You’re so strong, Rinrin.”
Rin juts his lower lip out in a pout, pinches at Haruka’s thigh. Haruka laughs once, shifts to escape Rin’s hand, and feels something jingle around in his pocket.
Ah, that’s right.
Standing, he moves to sit behind Rin and tells him to keep facing forward when Rin begins to question his actions. He takes the pendant from his pocket and admires how the palm of his hand has grown around it before slipping the chain around Rin’s neck, making sure it’s clasped tightly. When Rin turns and peers down at it, he looks back to Haruka with both brows raised, asking plenty of questions without actually speaking.
“Isn’t it nice?”
“It is,” Rin agrees, rubbing the back of his neck. “But what is it for?”
“For someone I love.”
Rin sputters and ducks his head, grabbing Haruka’s arm, trying to hide the dopey smile that had formed. “What the hell? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does that mean?”
When Haruka laughs, Rin finds himself laughing too, leaning against Haruka and hugging him close. They stay like that for a good minute before Haruka remembers the neglected cake and pulls away, returning to his former spot and taking another bite.
His eyes don’t leave Rin, though.
The pendant looks as beautiful on him as his medals do.
“What are you staring at?” Rin asks after muttering under his breath about how sweet the cake is.
At first, Haruka doesn’t respond, and instead reaches across the table to clasp Rin’s hand in his own.
Haruka is in love with Rin.
The corners of his lips turn up and he shrugs once, gives a gentle squeeze as he leans over to kiss Rin once.
“Just thinking that red really suits you.”