28 DAYS [MakoHaru]

three → 01/08

Chapter Three

Makoto's hands are shaking so much he has to ask his mother to tie his tie.

"You know, honey, you don't have to go to this if you're nervous," Makoto's mother tells him as she loops the thin piece of silk fabric around his neck.

Makoto gazes at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall. He is dressed nicely enough; the tuxedo is from his siblings' elementary school graduation two years ago, so the sleeves are slightly too short. When the shirt sleeves are tightly cuffed, it looks presentable, so he doesn't dwell on asking it to be resized.

Makoto shakes his head firmly in an answer. There is no way he's backing out of this now; he's already spent ten minutes in front of the mirror pep-talking himself into going to this funeral even though it is scaring him so much all he really wants to do is climb under his bedcovers. No, he's going to do this.

The tie's knot is secured and Makoto's mother straightens it atop his chest with an encouraging pat. She reaches for his wallet and his cell phone, which are sitting on the counter, and hands it to him.

"You have enough money in your metrocard?" She asks worriedly. She starts to fumble for her purse to give him cash to put on the card. She hands him a ten dollar bill, which he takes gratefully and shoves into his wallet. "Don't stay out too late."

Makoto bites back a sigh. "Don't worry, Mom. I know the rules about being out in the city late at night."

He was to be traveling via the underground metro into Japan; under the bridge... The same bridge Haruka jumped from four nights ago. Makoto pushes the thought to the deepest corner of his mind and checks the time on his phone. 5:31.

"I should get going before I'm late," He announces, jutting his thumb towards the front door. His mother blows him a kiss and he catches it over his shoulder, a small smile on his face as he exits the house.

It is cold outside; the temperatures have significantly dropped after the sunset, and it is already dark as Makoto leaves his neighborhood. His suit helps somewhat in blocking out the harsh wind as he fast-walks to the train station, casting the occasional side-glance over his shoulder.

When Makoto makes it to the station, his hands are shaking (whether it's from the cold or from his nerves, he can't figure out) and he stuff them in his suit jacket pockets. There aren't many people waiting for the train, only a tired-looking mother and her children, and businessman in a suit and a bluetooth earpiece.

While they wait, it begins to snow; white puffs of powder melt in his combed hair and begin to collect on the ground, looking like someone sprinkled powdered sugar all over the platform. He wishes he brought a scarf, and his nose feels numb from the cold.

The metro arrives at 5:45 on the dot. Makoto steps on the train and moves towards the back, where he sits in the last seat in the last row, on the left. In front of him is a crudely-drawn graffiti and a heart that says M.S + Y.A written in black permanent marker. Makoto frowns to see that the heart has been crossed out.

The businessman sits two rows in front of him. From closer to the front, the older two children push their noses against the fogged glass, admiring the snow while the mother attends to the crying baby in a stroller. Makoto sticks his headphones in his ears and tunes them out, resting his head against the glass and staring out the window.

The snow turns the glistening lights into the city into iridescent bokeh circles that remind him of a camera taking an out-of-focus picture. As the train picks up speed, Makoto's heart lurches with it as he tries desperately to distract himself with his music and forget about what he is about to do.