Chapter Text
Saturday starts out gray and dreary and full of alarm clocks. Makoto yawns through a question as he reaches over Haru to turn his phone’s alarm off.
“Oh no, you slept over again, what are you going to do, Haru?” he asks, with a bad imitation of surprise and a quiet grin.
Haru lets out a noncommittal noise, looking out the window at the cloudy sky outside. He’d rather stay here in Makoto’s nice warm bed, but he’s past the point where he’d let his selfishness overshadow responsibility. “It’s ok. I have my swim bag and backpack. I’ve already got everything for class today.”
They both accept, without needing to talk about it, that Haru has been miraculously prepared for class every evening of the past two months, all of which he’s spent at Makoto’s, and that Makoto bought him a toothbrush after the third time it happened; that Haru wakes up to Makoto’s alarm now. They both go through the quiet routine of getting ready for the day. Haru makes them breakfast, Makoto packs their lunch.
Right before Makoto locks the door behind them, he wishes him happy birthday with a kiss and a promise. “I didn’t forget. I’ll tell you what was bothering me last night.” Haru shuffles in place on the doorstep, hoping Makoto picks up on what he’s trying to say. As always, he does.
“I trust you, Haru. Just tell me when you’re ready, alright?” Makoto leaves a kiss on Haru’s cheek, quick and sweet. He looks happier than last night, and that makes Haru feel lighter, at least.
The rest of the day is a blur of classes he doesn’t care about, and half-hearted studying for upcoming finals. He’s invested enough to want to do well, a lot more than he used to be, but today he has more important things happening. After hours of waiting while pretending to be busy, Haru gets out of class and meets Makoto, and they get on the train that goes back to their apartments
Haru can feel himself buzzing with extra energy, wishes he was wearing his jammers. Makoto isn’t oblivious to it, either. He’s already waiting for Haru to tell him something, and although he hasn’t asked, he’s practically wiggling waiting for Haru to bring it up. Finally, as the train slows to a stop at their station, Haru checks his phone one last time and sends a text to Sousuke.
From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: (no subject) i’m starting now
He gets a reply almost immediately.
From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: (no subject) Ok, we’re leaving too.
Haru is not getting off the train today.
“I’m not getting off.”
Makoto stares blankly at him. “What?”
Haru repeats himself. “I’m not getting off the train, you can’t make me. I’m going swimming in the ocean.” He can actually see the light leave Makoto’s eyes. Interesting.
“No, we’re getting off at our station, Haru, we have homework to start on,” he says evenly. Everything about his soft voice is absolutely dripping ‘don’t argue with me.’
“And I want to swim.” Haru stubbornly clings to the hand rail, watching other passengers stream around him and trying his best to look indifferent. He almost feels like laughing when he’s reminded of himself, four years ago. He’s gotten older without realizing it.
“Haru, come on…”
But he keeps up the argument long enough to stay on the train until it’s moving past their stop, and he keeps it up all the way to the station for the beach, at which point Makoto has had enough.
“Haru.” Makoto is looking at him. He looks back, eyes wide across his death grip on the handrail. It’s a little thrilling to be arguing without consequences. The set of his jaw implies that Makoto is considering physically lifting him out of their train car, which Haru is not at all opposed to– but it would be a little rude to everyone else, and he’s trying not to do that anymore for Makoto’s sake. The doors are going to close soon and he still needs to stall, for at least a few more minutes. There’s only one solution.
He bolts for the door.
Makoto scrambles after him, and shit, he’s faster than he looks with that big coat and bookbag. Haru dodges through the crowd milling in front of the train doors, ignoring the trail of protests he’s leaving in his wake and cutting into the street.
“Haruuu, don’t do this! Come back, we have to go work!” He can hear Makoto’s voice gaining on him but he’s almost to the seawall, almost, only a couple more blocks. Shit, shit, shit, shit– it’s convenient that he’s in good enough shape to do this, he thinks, skittering down the seawall stairs. He doesn’t even need to be running anymore, but right as Makoto catches up to him he runs out of land anyway, and is caught breathless right at the water’s edge, ready and willing to fall.
“You need to tell me what’s going on, Haru.” Makoto actually looks a little pissed, that’s kind of hot– Haru shakes his head, willing himself to focus on the goal.
He might as well tell him some of the truth. “Come to Akane’s café with me.”
Makoto blinks, not catching the connection. “What– why?” he pleads, melting right back into his usual self. “Why can’t you tell me what’s happening?” His voice is confused, and a little frustrated and sad, and Haru’s totally tired of lying to him. Fuck being secretive, he does what he wants.
“I have something for you, for your birthday,” he starts, which isn’t a total lie. It just happens to be in Kisumi’s possession, and included as part of a surprise party.
Makoto pauses, all traces of sadness dissolving. “What? Is that you’ve been hiding?”
“Yes,” Haru says, breaking eye contact and hoping he looks believable. “It’s waiting at the café.”
At this Makoto’s face crumples, eyes going watery with regret. “Oh, Haru, I had no idea! I’m sorry I was so mean about it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Haru says disbelievingly, unable to remember any time Makoto was mean to him that he didn’t completely deserve. But Makoto pulls him into a kiss anyway, sweet and deep, letting it last until the waves around them break. Haru hops back towards the shore as saltwater bleeds into the soles of his shoes.
They both look at each other, only a little dazed, until Haru’s phone buzzes and he remembers what they’re doing. “We should probably go.”
After trying in vain to shake off the sand (it doesn’t really work), they both clamber on the next train back to their neighborhood. Haru’s shoes are still wet, but being packed next to so many people on the train is quickly warming him up. He checks his phone, where he’s got several dozen messages from Sousuke; he must’ve missed those while running frantically toward the beach. Scrolling past most of the messages, he ignores all the pointless decoration-related updates until he finds what he actually needs at the bottom. Luckily the newest message was sent only a few minutes ago.
From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: RE: (no subject) Ok, everyone’s here and the shit’s all set up.
From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: RE: RE: (no subject) we’re on our way
From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject) We’re all going to jump out when you come inside, that ok?
Haru sends over a quick agreement. It’s not until he catches Makoto’s small smile that he notices he’s crunched himself up until the phone is almost pressed against his nose; he’s been trying to hide, but maybe he’s more obvious than he thought.
***
By the time they get to the café, it’s starting to drizzle, and the whole place is dark, even though it’s nowhere near closing time.
Makoto’s looking nervous.“Hey Haru, I think we should just go back to the dorms,” he wavers. “It doesn’t look like it’s open.” One hand makes a little grabby motion toward Haru’s sleeve that doesn’t really land, not wanting to be scared, doing it anyway.
“No, it’s fine,” Haru insists, continuing toward the door. He cracks it open, carefully blocking the “closed for private event” sign, and is about to walk right in with Makoto trailing behind him, when he remembers Sousuke’s message.
Oh. It’s time to be very cruel.
“Haru?” His words tilted up into a question, Makoto sidles closer behind him, but it’s too late– Haru shoves Makoto in front of him, straight through the open door.
Makoto panics, scrambling against Haru’s arms in an attempt to run right back out. “Haru! What are you doing, stop it, stoppp it’s creepy–”
“Happy birthday Makoto!” The café lights up with a flash, and in an instant it’s filled to bursting with their friends, jumping out from behind tables and countertops. The sudden blast of friendliness startles Makoto into silence, and he blinks, frozen, for a minute, until Kisumi yells “Surprise!” just in time to be late yelling it, and he stumbles out of the doorway.
Haru takes a minute to process everything, too. The café’s normal decor is entirely hidden under bunches of garish decorations; they look very handmade, and unusually fish-themed, but as far as he can tell, almost everyone has contributed something. There’s a pile of gifts in the corner and a truly beautiful cake sitting on the countertop, topped delicately with a tiny ‘Happy Birthday’ plaque.
Makoto spins round to gape at him. “Haru– Haru you said it was just a gift! This is– I can’t believe everyone knew about this!”
“Sorry,” he says, neither looking or feeling particularly sorry. “It was a surprise.”
“Oh my gosh, everyone, thank you so much,” Makoto wobbles out, sounding very overwhelmed.
“Hey, we still gotta cut the cake!” Asahi grabs Makoto and drags him further into the café, where everyone is gathered. “It’s not even a birthday party without the birthday cake.”
A disjointed but cheery version of “Happy Birthday” follows, wrapped up by Nagisa yelling immediately as it ends. “Mako-chan gets biggest slice!”
Rei, who has put himself in charge of cutting the cake, is quick to correct him. “Unless we cut it improperly, without attention to symmetry, there shouldn’t be larger or smaller slices. Makoto-chan should get the ‘Happy Birthday’ section, though! The most fitting slice for the entire point of the celebration!”
“Ah, thank you Rei,” Makoto stammers, taking the small plate shoved into his hands. He honestly looks happy to get the first taste and Asahi is looking particularly proud of his cake-ordering.
Everyone settles into groups. Kisumi, Asahi and Natsuya are discussing something about pubs that is making Kisumi giggle and Asahi pepper in suggestions. Nagisa is effortlessly waving off Makoto’s questioning about how they managed to get here, one arm still holding a karaoke set that Rei is hovering around awkwardly. He’s clearly trying to set up without actually taking it from him, and Sousuke and Hiyori are both watching his attempts with a mildly entertained expression. Ikuya’s preoccupied with digging something out of Natsuya’s backpack without him noticing. That something turns out to be Natsuya’s credit card, which everyone figures out when a huge fried chicken delivery arrives for him.
“It’s close enough to Christmas, right?” he says, wincing as he signs for it.
“Not really,” Haru replies, rustling through the bags for the little pack of lemons. “Too bad though, it’s already charged.”
He’s only mildly upset, probably helped by the beer someone brought. “I’ve made it through two years of international travel with no problems, and my card is stolen by my own brother. This is true betrayal.”
Finally, Rei and Nagisa get the karaoke machine properly set up, and Asahi and Rei try to sing along to a dancey Perfume song. With a heavy emphasis on “try;” it sounds awful. But they’re clearly enjoying themselves– Sousuke catches Haru’s eye, and says many things with a single raised eyebrow. At least his suffering isn’t solitary. Eventually, everyone calms down somewhat, and after both the cake and chicken are both respectably smaller, Hiyori asks a timely question. “I don’t mean to rush things, but are we opening presents? Surely we’re not skipping that part after all this effort.”
“Of course we’re not!” Kisumi jumps up, immediately producing Haru’s gift from some chaos void that probably follows him everywhere. “Here’s Haru’s present, Makoto!”
“No! Mine is last!” he blurts, before he can help himself.
Everyone turns toward him, of course, and Nagisa takes the opportunity to talk shit. “Oh, so this is what it’s like in Tokyo, Haru? You really are the one who gets final say when it comes to Makoto!”
There’s some badly hidden snickering, from no one in particular, and Haru ducks his head, his face burning. “Shut up. Just open mine last, what’s the big deal.”
“Hey, it’s not like there aren’t enough other presents,” Sousuke interrupts. “There’s almost ten of us here anyway.” He doesn’t quite meet Haru’s eyes, but they share an instant and mutual understanding for needed subject changes. Haru mentally reminds himself to be less of a dick to Sousuke. This does distract Kisumi, though, and they open his first. Makoto happily fawns over the small pack of cat-themed stationery. Sousuke’s gift, a small but dense book on sports medicine, is gratefully accepted, and it turns out that the karaoke set was Rei and Nagisa’s combined gift. No wonder neither of them know how to use it, despite being the ones who brought it. His pile quickly grows larger with a truly unusual number of socks from Hiyori, which in his defense, do look like nice socks. Natsuya and Ikuya’s gift looks like a simple envelope, until Makoto opens it, and his mouth drops open.
“We won’t take it back, so don’t try,” Ikuya says, cutting Makoto off before he can reject the ¥10,000 neatly folded inside. “It’s from both of us.”
“You missed the gift card, too!” Natsuya adds.
Makoto makes a helpless little noise in Natsuya’s direction as he digs into the envelope again, pulling out a card for one of the better swim supply stores. “Thank you, I– wow, that’s really a lot,” he fumbles, caught between being polite and being reasonable.
The last gift, from Asahi, is a sweater that looks perfectly normal until he points out the pattern. “Killer whales! See?” Everyone leans in to peer at the sweater, which actually does have tiny whales on it, so small that they look like chevrons from further away.
At last, they get to Haru’s gift, which is stolen back from Kisumi. It was his to start with, he’s allowed to take it again. Makoto pries it open, his expression melting as the contents are revealed. Inside the box is a plush white cat with a bright orange ribbon tied around its neck. “Aw, Haru it’s so cute!”
“That’s not the gift, it’s still in the box,” Haru prompts. Makoto frowns and feels around in the box a little further. His gaze raises to meet Haru’s questioningly, holding up a single sheet of paper.
“It’s an adoption certificate. They have– I paid the adoption fee at Neko Repub for one of the newer cats. She still needs some medicines, but even though she lives there, she’s yours once you can take her.” He turns away, not saying the rest of what they both know. By the time Makoto can take her, he’ll have a new apartment, one that allows cats this time. One that’s meant for more than one person.
Setting the plush back in the box, Makoto leans in for a hug, forgetting for a minute that they don’t usually do that in public. His voice is wobbly as he whispers against Haru’s neck. “Thank you, Haru. For all of this.”
***
Their journey home is delayed by a scrambled cleanup orchestrated by Asahi, who is caught oddly between bragging and nervousness. “Yeah, so I know my sister closed early so we could set this all up, but we can’t leave too much of a mess, okay? We have to be out by midnight.”
At last, after everyone helps clean up a little, the remainder of the cake is bundled into their hands with a flurry of “oh no I couldn’t possibly” from Makoto that is overwhelmed by everyone reminding him that it’s his own birthday cake. They start the short walk back to Makoto’s apartment, gradually losing friends for the night and saying goodbyes as they split off toward their own homes. Nagisa and Rei have tagged along with Sousuke for some reason, who looks tired on a level beyond the physical.
Although Haru’s shoes have finally dried off, it’s still chilly out. Makoto looks up at the sky, where only the wispiest of clouds have cleared to reveal a half-moon. He looks at Haru and Haru looks back, holds his gaze. His normally green eyes look almost gray under the bright moonlight. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”
“It’s not healthy to be caught outside in the rain,” Haru says, with the total conviction of someone who’s already gotten what he wants. “Would you mind if I spent the night?”
“You know that’s just a myth, right?” Makoto adjusts the large box from Haru’s gift, which has been repurposed to hold everyone else’s, the plush cat riding on top. “You don’t actually get sick from the water, even if you’re soaking wet. You get sick because you’re not warm.”
Haru folds one corner of the paper box, holding cake leftovers not half as sugary as the boy walking next to him. “Did you know that dolphins can survive even in subtropical water?”
“I did, actually,” Makoto replies. He can hear him smiling. “Did you know that one of their favorite foods is mackerel?”
Haru takes a moment to catch his breath. He loves him so much. “I did.”
He loves Makoto, for quietly filling in the rough spots of Haru, and teaching him the foreign language of living a life not lonely. Haru didn’t need to go to all this trouble, when Makoto would be happy with a cupcake and a hug, but he did anyway; because that’s what Makoto does. Always, when he’s had the option not to say anything, not to care, he does it anyway. And after all these years, Haru’s finally speaking back.