Drowning (MakoHaru) *HIATUS*

Chapter Eight

Akihiko smirked menacingly, clutching the blade tight. It was finally happening. The day- well, technically night- where Haru would disappear. He had waited patiently long enough. He had warned him, he has asked him, he had ignored him, but tonight, Akihiko had had enough of him. Tonight marked the end of Nanase Haruka.

The blade's glow danced balefully in the moonlight, reflecting the rays of the moons glare beautifully. The dark hilt, as black as the nights sky, was clutched by a shaking hand. Akihiko was excited. He would make Haru suffer. He had flouted Akihiko's rules for the last time.

Akihiko decided he wouldn't make it quick. That would've been too much of a privilege. So instead, the boy hastily narcotized Haru by jabbing a needle into his neck, setting to work without hesitation. He leered at Haru as he sunk the blade deeper into his shoulder. Akihiko chuckled darkly as blood spurted onto his face. Licking the sides of his mouth, he moaned in pleasure as the familiar metallic taste sunk into his taste buds. Akihiko yanked the blade out from Haru's shoulder and repositioned it right over his heart. And right there, Akihiko stopped.

It confused him immensely. He, who had never hesitated before, was faltering. It was quite the peculiar situation. Why couldn't he move his arm any further? He tried and tried, but his arm would not budge. He bit the sides of his cheeks, contemplating what to do. Surely he couldn't waltz on into a doctors office, only to say 'I can't stab a guy who's in my way. What should I do?' They would most definitely through him in jail.

So instead, he retired for the day. Without a moment to waste, Akihiko set up a scene to blame Haru's wound on. Maybe he was carrying an empty glass downstairs to the kitchen when he felt a wave of nausea and fell? Yes, that would do. Then the glass would've impaled the ravenette, not a blade.

Akihiko wiped his hands together as he stepped back to admire his master piece. There lay Haru, a bloody mess, in a pile of broken glass. He was in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, blood and glass galore.

"I really outdid myself this time." Akihiko smiled, complimenting himself. "I surely deserve Makoto as a reward now, don't you think, Haru-chan?" He kicked Haru's mangled body once more, before making his exit quickly, making sure that once Haru woke up, there would be no traces of Akihiko at all.

---

Haru woke up with a start, regretting it instantly. The ache in his shoulder was agonizing up to the point that he couldn't even move his arm without sending a jolt of fire throughout his arm. He bit into his hand, muffling the sounds that threatened to escape his mouth.

It hurt.

Well, no shit.

Haru, annoyed to no limits, let out a string of curses. He cursed at his shoulder, cursed his idiocy, cursed at his emotions, and cursed at the universe. He groaned as he slowly lifted himself off of the cold wooden floor.

Pain pulsed through his shoulder as he steadied himself with the wrong arm. He grunted and closed his eyes to bear with the burning pain in his shoulder. What happened last night?

He had swum.
He had come home.
He had passed out at the door.

So why was he a bloody heap at the bottom of the stairs? It just didn't make any sense.

He stumbled his way to his bathroom and passed a window on his way. It was a light black outside, an estimated time of four in the morning. He yawned, tears pricking at the sides and of his sparkling eyes.

There was only one explanation.

Akihiko.

Haru sighed at the mention of his name. It was ironic, actually. In Japan, Haru meant Spring, and Aki meant Fall. Makoto had always preferred Fall, and Haru knew that. For in Fall, you have warm and cold weather. It's not too cold too swim, nor is it too hot to be burned under the kiss of the flaming sun. But because the heated weather was ending, the pools heaters would usually be set on prior to the freezing weather of Iwami.

As kids, Makoto would always say Haru out of his house and to the trees where the leaves were falling steadily. And there, for hours the two would play-- rather, Makoto would play in the leaves and Haru would sit and watch until Makoto forced him into the 'fun.' But never in summer. Durning spring, Makoto always thought it was too cold to go swimming. Instead, the two would stay indoors, resulting with a depressed Haru and an apologetic Makoto.

Maybe that's why Makoto preferred Akihiko.

If not, then it was probably the looks. Haru and his short, flimsy body that looked like it would snap in seconds could not compare to Akihiko's strong build, and his towering height. He was even taller than Makoto-- if that was even possible.

Haru sighed before running his hand through his chlorinated hair. Wincing every time he moved his arm, he set to work on patching up his shoulder. Still drizzling blood, the wound refused to be patched up. Whenever he put a gauze over the cut, before he even had time to tape it, the white cloth would turn wet with crimson.

Grumbling in frustration, Haru grabbed a towel to dry the wound. He would have to clean it again later. After a few minutes of shaking hands and fishing line later, he drew in a steady breath. The wound was finally cleaned and shut, and it wouldn't have to bother him at least for a little while.

"Now," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse. "What to do about my stomach." Before he could get to it, however, the doorbell to his front door sounded out. Had it really been that long? He sighed, washing his hands quickly and throwing the clothes closest to him. Guessing that Makoto was at the door, he rushed his way to his front door, throwing the door open. Sure enough, there stood Makoto, dressed in his school uniform. He smiled brightly at Haru, his eyes closed.

Haru coughed meekly before opening the door wider, signaling Makoto that it was okay to come inside.

"Would you like something to drink?" Haru croaked. Makoto smiled brightly again.

"No, I'll be fine. Though, we should really take you to the doctor, Haru! You look awful!"

"Gee, thanks Makoto." Haru coughed. Makoto's eyes widened, throwing his arms around frantically.

"N-no! Th-that's not what I meant! You look handsome as hell, just you look really sick!" Makoto babbled.

"'Handsome as hell?'" Haru raised an eyebrow, in a way to tease Makoto.

"Th- I- I mean!" Makoto cried, his face flushing pink.

"Lighten up, Makoto, I'm only teasing yo-" Haru was thrown into another coughing fit. Makoto, blushing and alarmed, stood up quickly.

"I'm serious, Haru! You sound terrible! I'll get you some water, go sit down." Haru shook his head stubbornly.

"I'll get it myself, thanks." Haru replied, his vision blurring.

"You sure?" Makoto pressed. "You look like you're about to-"

And then Haru collapsed.