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Absolute silence. Time is standing still. When he shifts his weight, the rocks under his feet grind against each other and boom like thunder. The ice and snow and mountains around him reach endlessly upwards, showing him a path that he knows he can’t take. He feels like he’s stuck at the bottom of the world.
He’s had this dream enough times that he knows none of it is real.
It doesn’t make it any easier, and anxiety slithers in his veins and nibbles at his heart.
Makoto is standing alone where they’d set up base camp. There’s nothing left, no sign that anything was ever there. Tsering gave up days ago and took everything with him, except for Makoto’s desperation to keep waiting.
The cold is merely a pleasant prick on his cheeks. He takes comfort in that. For in reality, he couldn’t have survived for days on end, rooted to the ground, just standing there with the wind as his only companion. Though if he has died and become a ghost, maybe he can see Habu when he comes down.
nobody is dead
he didn’t die
He’s out of breath. His body heaves with effort to get air into his lungs. He’s not high enough for it to be this hard. He’s in good shape. It’s purely out of desperation and fear.
His eyes are fixed ahead of him. Where they started the ascent together.
But only Makoto came back.
he’s still there
he made it to the peak, must have
he’s coming back
I just have to keep waiting
He’s going to be waiting forever.
***
“Habu.”
Makoto wakes up to the sound of his own whisper. He blinks against the near darkness of the house. The embers in the fireplace glow orange, but they aren’t what immediately draw his attention.
The spot by his side is empty. Cold. He is warm; he’s been wrapped in the oversized blanket the village women gifted them when Makoto decided to stay for a while. He feels like he’s drowning in it, and he struggles to dig his way out.
where’s Habu?
He shivers as he places his bare feet on the floor. The first thing he does is put on his shoes, then he adds some dung to the stove so the fire won’t go out. He doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s dark outside, so he imagines Habu has only gone to visit the outhouse.
Makoto sits on the bed they’ve come to share, but he has the patience to wait only for a couple of minutes. The memory of the dream makes his chest hollow. He needs Habu close, to lean against his large form and feel safe.
he’s coming back, right?
It’s a stupid thought, but he can’t chase it away. Habu has been different lately. On the surface, he’s just as gruff and unapproachable as always, more like a force of nature than human being. His smiles are rare and muted, but Makoto feels blinded each time he catches a glimpse of one. He’s sure his heart would stop if Habu ever looked straight at him like that.
perhaps he has, but always behind my back
One of the first things he learned about Habu is how effective he is. He knows the ways in the mountains inside out, as if he’s lived his entire life there. He works without complaint. He doesn’t talk much but every word carries meaning. He’s making every second of his life count.
But lately, Makoto has seen him stare into the distance in the middle of his work. He catches him off guard and startles him by placing a hand on his shoulder. He has to repeat what he’s said sometimes because it’s clear Habu hasn’t been listening.
His heart wants to climb again. A man like him will never be satisfied, even now when he’s done the unthinkable and conquered the highest summit in the world in conditions nobody else has. Makoto knows this. He understands. There are places he wants to see, new experiences, and new accomplishments he can only imagine. He doesn’t want to stay in this remote town forever.
But he wants to stay with Habu. Perhaps he’s childishly smitten, but the weeks they’ve spent together in his mountain home since his return from the summit have fulfilled some basic craving he hadn’t even been aware of. He’s free. He’s happy. He’s in love.
why isn’t Habu coming back?
he’s just the kind of man who’d pack his things and disappear in the middle of the night and think he’s doing me a favor
Something grips at his throat. Unlike in his nightmare where he’s doomed to wait for all eternity, he can go and find him. Habu can’t have gone far.
It’s piercing cold outside when he opens the door. He turns back and grabs the blanket off the bed, hangs it over himself, and tries again. The darkness feels as heavy as the weight on his shoulders. There’s hardly a light in town. But then he looks up and is struck by the sight of countless stars. No matter how many times he sees them, it always takes his breath away and makes him feel small and insignificant, but not like living among the human masses of Tokyo. Here, it brings comfort and safety.
He doesn’t need to bring light with him to find Habu. He’s sitting on a rock just a few steps from the door, looking up as well. Makoto knows it’s not the stars but the peaks that surround the town. He’s not dressed in more than his pants.
“How long have you been here? You’ll freeze to death. And we just got done taking care of you,” he says.
Habu turns to look at him briefly, but it’s the only sign Makoto gets that he heard him. He draws his lungs full of cold air and walks to join him. Habu is a man of few words, and talking is not always the best way to get through to him.
There’s just barely enough room for him to sit on the rock, too, if he presses himself close. He drapes the blanket over them both. Habu’s arm wraps around his back to stop him from sliding off, and his skin feels hot and cold at the same time.
It’s been some weeks since Habu returned from the summit, more dead than alive, and Makoto and Tsering nursed him back to health. He’s fine now, though some of his strength is yet to return.
“You’ve been restless lately,” Makoto says when he feels the silence has become comfortable.
“Mmh.”
“What’s on your mind?”
The quiet between them stretches on for so long that Makoto begins to think he won’t get an answer. It shouldn’t bother him, but he’s got an inquisitive mind that just gets more determined when people won’t talk to him. It’s taken him a good chunk of his life to understand that there isn’t an answer to everything and that sometimes it’s better not to know - though that rarely stops him. His editor has told him plenty of times he’ll get himself in trouble one day.
“I’m lost.”
“Hey, that’s not what I want to hear from the man who just conquered the highest summit of the world,” Makoto says, hoping his cheerful tone will rub off on Habu. Even a little. Because it’s clear to him what Habu means.
Habu has spent the past eight years focusing on one goal only. Preparing for nothing else. And he did it. It’s over. Anyone would look at the life they have left and wonder what should come next, where to find something else.
perhaps it’d be kinder if he’d never made it back
Makoto pushes the thought away, horrified at himself.
“There are other mountains,” he says. Ones that are more dangerous. Ones where there are records to be broken. Ones where he can’t follow and will have to keep waiting below, hoping that Habu will be back this time, too.
Is that why he keeps having the same dream over and over?
“Yes,” Habu admits, “but not for another while. I’ve grown to enjoy life here.”
“Well, I guess nobody would stay in a remote place like this if they didn’t get something out of it, huh?”
Habu grunts something Makoto can’t understand, but he’s clearly offended on the behalf of the people who’ve taken him in as one of their own.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Makoto hurries to add.
“I’m well past the point where I need someone else to cook for me or watch over my sleep. Shouldn’t you start thinking about going back? What will the people at your magazine say? Your family?”
“There’s nobody I’m in a hurry to get back to,” Makoto says. Most people might find it sad, but he enjoys the freedom of not having anything permanent to tie him down. He’ll always need to travel for his work.
“Or do you want me gone? Because I rather like it here,” he says.
He feels Habu’s muscles relax as a quiet sigh escapes him.
“I’m not used to having anyone around for long.”
It’s not a definite no. And Makoto had gotten his way even when Habu had yelled and slammed the door to his face. He can get what he wants now, too.
“I think it’s high time we get back inside and warm each other up. Otherwise, they’ll find our bodies here in the morning and we’ll make headlines as another Everest tragedy,” he says.
“You shouldn’t make fun of people who’ve died here. Show some respect.”
“I wasn’t. Sorry.”
They manage to walk inside still wrapped up in the blanket. It’s now cold enough that they’re trying to warm the blanket with their bodies and not the other way around, but Makoto hardly notices. Habu is hot and hard against him even before they reach the bed.
Makoto is still unsure how it got to this point between them and what it means. They haven’t talked about it. He’s mostly been with men who’re very open about what they want - and while Habu’s large body on top of him leaves little unclear, it’s also much more physical than he’s used to. He likes to be told that he’s doing well, but Habu doesn’t talk when they’re in bed.
At first, he thought he was repressed, that maybe he was Habu’s first man. But he knows too well what he’s doing, and there’s no shame on his face when he looks at him in the morning. It’s affection, Makoto likes to think, but it wouldn’t be the first time he expects more than is being offered.
Then again, Habu is not a man who lies, even when he should. He wouldn’t touch him like this, breathe so loudly in his ear, or hold him so tight if he didn’t mean it. Makoto senses a need in him that goes beyond the physical, like he’s looking for something to keep him steady.
“Habu.”
“What?”
“If you want to stay here for the rest of your life, that’s fine. I can make it work. But if you decide it’s time to go, I’d like to come with you. Anywhere is good.”
He sounds too eager, and he knows it. Just like when he was begging Habu to take him to the summit with him.
“Are you content just to follow?”
“Yes.”
Makoto is sure Habu will argue. He’s not worth following, he might say. There are better men and more inspiring stories. But the time he’s spent with Habu has uncovered a desire for thrill and freedom that he’s tried to suppress for most of his life. He’ll go back to Japan one day, but doing so right now would be the same as walking willingly back into his cage after just one step outside of it.
He needs more first. To see and experience and go past his limits, and right now he feels that he can only do so with Habu.
“I don’t want you to follow me,” Habu says, as predicted. “But we can go together.”