Persona || Makoharu || Free!

•How Long 'Til Sunrise•

-Haru's pov-

I have not seen Makoto since that night.

Saying that night sounded very vague in my head. Not yesterday, two- maybe three days ago? Time is a blur of events that meant nothing anymore.

Sometimes I would sleep- never more than a few hours. Occasionally, I would eat, picking at food I had no appetite for out of the nagging of Gou, Nagisa or Rei. They did their best to be there for me, but I only feel increasingly lonely. They are not who I want so desperately to see.

I always knew Makoto was a big part of my life. My earliest memories even involved the him. I would not be me without Makoto by my side all these years. We grew and we changed, but not without each other. It feels like my other half is missing.

However, I know where that other half is. Makoto is not as literally lost as I feel.

Makoto is laying alive in a hospital a mere 2 miles away. I would know, I was the one who called the ambulance that rushed them there.

While his current condition was stable, the scene I rushed in on was the complete opposite.

-Few days ago-

"999 What's your emergency?"

"Makoto... There's blood. He's bled so much... Please, wake up, Makoto."

"Sir, calm down. Tell me, what's going on."

"Please! Send help... My friend hurt himself, I don't know what to do!"

-Present-

"They're ready for you guys. Are you sure you don't want to go Haru?"

I refuse the offer with a silent shake of the head. Mrs. Tachibana nods with silent understanding. She'd practically raised me like my second mother, and just like her son, could read me unlike most.

Without anymore questions she turns on her heel to face the trio of students who also came to support out friend. It is Sunday and we were ready to use our day off to be by the brunettes side on his first day of outside visitation. Calmly, she begins to lay out the few rules the staff had placed on Makoto's visitors.

For a mother who recently got the news that her child almost killed himself, she is taking it extremely well. Shock, the doctors said. If shock meant not feeling everything brewing inside me right now then I counted Mrs. Tachibana as a lucky one.

Eventually her warm smile will face the same heart crushing reality I have.

There had been blood. Blood all over his sleeve and on his lap and onto his trousers where his left arm had rested. I can clearly remember Makoto's face, he almost looked like he had fallen asleep. His features were soft, a sight I had long since memorized from countless night where Makoto would always fell asleep first no matter how long he swore he'd stay up late.

"Haru-chan? Will you be okay by yourself?" Nagisa broke my train of thought. It is surprising that they didn't fight me more on my decision. Then again nothing about this situation is what we would call normal.

I promised I would be fine. Rei takes the arm of the blonde, gently coaxing him away from me and through the door. Gou gives a weak smile and followed their lead. Off they headed to the room he was too scared to face.

What would I feel when I entered? How did Makoto look? What if he hated me...

Tomorrow. I'll go tomorrow and look Makoto in the eye...

My chest feels tight. When I found Makoto, I was completely unresponsive. In that moment, I wasn't sure I have ever be able to even see my friend again. I shook his shoulders and felt the strong, constant boy he had always in life slipping weakly from between his fingers. Makoto's pale face etched itself in his eyes. The cold wet touch of his skin as I held a towel to Makoto's wrist and prayed for someone, anyone, to come.

Breathe, Haru. Makoto is alive.

I hide my face in my hands. The flats of my palms pressed against my eyes in an attempt to quell the burning tears.

The underclassmen didn't reappear until almost 2 hours later. It doesn't feel like it had been that long. I had busied myself with reading or watching the television. When all else failed my daydreamed.

"Haruka-senpai, we're going to fetch lunch. Do you want anything?" Gou still has on her smile. She is trying hard not to let her true emotions show.

"No thanks."

"I'll bring you something anyway."

"But Rei-chan," Nagisa is in Rei's grip looking like he has to be dragged away. "I don't want to leave Mako-chan in that ugly, boring room all alone!"

"He won't be all alone, Nagisa-kun. Haruka-senpai will keep him company."

I look up at the mention of my name. My mouth opens a few times and closes tasting the words I'm not sure I am ready to say.

"Okay."

"Thank you, Haruka-senpai." Rei says after a brief silence.

I wonder how Rei manages to keep his head straight at a time like this.

Nagisa on the other hand won't be satisfied until he sees me actually walk through the door and down the hall. Compliantly, I get to my and push open the wide face of the swinging door. I can still feel Nagisa's puppy dog eyes on me through the heavy metal.

My heart is beating so fast. It pounds in my ears and the smell of sterile hospital becomes overwhelming.

Was there a water fountain nearby?

Suddenly, my throat is feeling very dry. I can turn around if I wanted to. I can up and leave and never look back. But my legs keep going despite the thoughts in my mind.

'Room B206. Tachibana Makoto.'

The raised letters of the door confirmed the patient identity.

I press my l ear against the door listening for any activity. The room is almost silent. A steady beeping comes from what I imagined to be a heart rate monitor. The beeps are soft and gently pulsing, far from erratic.

Gathering all the courage I can muster, I grip the knob of the door and let myself in before I can changed my mind.

Makoto's room is not as dull as Nagisa made it out to be. Dark from the light not being on, but transformed from the gifts of others. The family and all of Makoto's friends had turned the white walled square into an oasis of flowers. They are neatly packed to one corner of the room, right by the sunlight that lazily filtered in. An abstract painting hung opposite. And dead center, Makoto is sleeping peacefully in his bed.

His brown hair is messy, and the ill-fitting scrub he is wearing had an unpleasant design of polka dots and squares. Makoto's left wrist is covered by the cream coloured blanket, but I already knew what is there.

I draw in a shaky breath and as soundlessly as possible walk in. A cream colored stool waited for me near the head of the patient.

I will wait, and when Makoto wakes up we would need to talk.