28 DAYS [MakoHaru]

thirty nine

Chapter Thirty-Nine

After spending five minutes in close proximity with Lucinda Nanase, Makoto learns she is the most intimidating, no-nonsense woman he's ever met .

And furthermore, she's the complete opposite from how he remembered her at Haruka's funeral, which, theoretically, would be a week from today if he didn't have anything to say about it.

But Makoto chooses not to think about that.

It hurts too much.

Everything about her screams overbearing; from the minute Haruka steps in the door she scolds him about not taking off his boots outside, making a huge mess of sand in the foyer, and then proceeding to complain that she and her husband had to get their own taxi to the house, as if that was somehow his fault.

Speaking of, her husband isn't that much better. They're both clearly exhausted from being stranded in airports and traveling for days on end, but whereas she blows off steam by chewing out Haruka for the littlest of things, his father collapses in an oversized chair and watches the chaos unfold for a few minutes before he's snoring.

"Lucinda, give the boy some space, why don't you," Mr. Amakata says cautiously, clearly afraid of the ticking time bomb that is his younger sister. "Take a seat, have some tea, let the kids go have fun."

She huffs out a sigh, as if it's such a huge inconvenience to sit down and relax. She doesn't say anything else, but sits down with Mr. Amakata and his wife anyway. Makoto notices her demeanor instantly changes, as if someone flipped a switch on her. Suddenly, she's smiling easily and melting into their conversation.

For a moment, she looks happy.

Makoto's seen too many fake smiles to not be deceived.

He feels Haruka's hand graze his arm, a silent beckoning to follow him. They walk up the stairwell quietly, not saying a word until they shut the bedroom door behind them.

"I'm sorry," Are the first words out of Haruka's mouth, and they take Makoto by surprise. He enters the room and sits on the bed, frowning.

"For what?"

"My mom," Haruka explains. "She's always like that. Nagging, overbearing, always treating me like a fuck-up. Sorry you have to experience it."

"If anything, I should be apologizing to you for having to bear it for seventeen years," Makoto says, crossing the room and taking a seat next to him. "You aren't a fuck-up, you know."

Haruka looks unconvinced, his brow furrowing.

"You aren't, Haru," Makoto repeats, louder. "And as much as I'd like to tell you that you can change her behaviour, you can't. Because that's just the way she's wired."

"Yeah, because treating your kid like utter shit because you blame them for your favorite child's death is totally excusable," Haruka grits his teeth.

"That's not what I mean," Makoto says slowly. "I mean her general attitude about never being satisfied. That's on her. You're doing your best, and that's all anyone can ask of you, right?"

"I guess," Haruka flops on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't sound convinced, however, and keeps worrying his lower lip like he does when he's thinking.

Makoto follows suit, flopping down on the bed and pulling on Haruka's arm so he turns on his side. Makoto kisses him softly, a tender kiss that shows he's here and he cares, and he hopes the message goes through.

"I'm so messed up," Haruka laughs as he breaks off the kiss. "Here I am, kissing the guy that makes me so happy, and yet all I can think of is how sad my mom makes me when she makes me feel like a disappointment."