28 DAYS [MakoHaru]

thirty

Chapter Thirty

The only thought on Makoto's mind is Haruka as he rushes out of the house, barely managing to tug on his boots and jacket. Haruka's jacket and beanie are gone too, meaning he's already made a run for it. Makoto calls for him, chasing after what he hopes are Haruka's footprints in the snow, thinking he's following the wrong rabbit trail until he hears sniffling down by the seaside.

Haruka is sitting on a bench - their bench - legs pulled up closely to his torso. He's so thin and lanky, he looks like he's trying to fold himself in half and make as much of himself disappear as possible.

"Hey..." Makoto says softly, careful to keep his distance, his anger melting away into the ocean. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Haruka whispers, his voice muffled by his legs. "I'm used to it."

No you're not, Makoto thinks. Otherwise you wouldn't have reacted like this.

"He shouldn't have said those things," Makoto continues softly, taking tentative steps closer to the bench, not having the courage to sit down just yet. "It wasn't... It wasn't supposed to turn out like this."

"When do things ever go as planned, anyway?" Haruka agrees with a small, sad laugh.

"I nearly came out to my family back there," Makoto admits with a lopsided smiles. Haruka's eyes widen, but he says nothing. "I'd hardly even questioned my sexuality before. I didn't particularly care for labels, everything just was what it was. I have a feeling I don't even need to tell them. I got a bit too defensive."

"If they find out, they're really going to hate me," Haruka says with a frown.

"That's not going to stop me from being with you, though," Makoto insists firmly.

"What about your dad?" Haruka asks desperately. "He-"

"Forget about him. Forget about it all, Just... God, you must be freezing. Sit here with me," Makoto finally sinks into the bench beside Haruka. They sit in silence, staring at the ocean.

"I suppose I probably owe you an explanation," Haruka says.

"You don't have to-"

Haruka holds one hand up. "Save it, Makoto. Just hear me out."

Makoto bites his lip. After a moment, he finds himself nodding.

"After my sister died and you moved away, I caught up with a bad crowd. They were three years older, they offered me drugs, usually prescription, you know? They weren't my friends, no, but they listened to me, at least acted like they gave a fuck what I had to say. We'd hang out at the skate park, but none of us even skated. Stupid, I know. I got busted by your dad for carrying one night, because of a stupid busted taillight."

"But, you got better, right?" Makoto says, listening intently to his story. "That's what matters most. I'm happy you chose the path of recovery."

Haruka looks lost in thought for a second. "If I hadn't been caught, I never would've gotten better, I don't think. I mean, I still smoke, because I need something to keep me going, and cigarettes aren't nearly as bad as over the counter drugs. But it didn't matter what I chose. By that point, it was too late. By the time I returned to school a few months later, everyone knew exactly who I was and what I'd done. All the others were dropouts anyway, all over eighteen, and ditched me so I wouldn't get them arrested. I was outcasted from everyone, even the people that were the closest things to friends I had."

Makoto's throat feels dry after hearing another part of Haruka's story. "I'm here for you now," He promises weakly.

Promises are worse than lies.