#anunyun

I was unsure if you would like the original photo, because I don’t know how to use Photoshop and I only scan it with an app on my phone. So that’s why I asked a friend to help me edit it. But TL;DR here’s the original scan-photo:

They decide to make the most of their two weeks of winter break, planning to use the ride home as a chance to sight-see before spending most of it catching up with the Tachibana’s and their old swim club. Makoto plans an tentative itinerary of desired destinations and packs nearly a week beforehand, too excited to sit still. He stays over at Haru’s apartment the night before, the rental car already packed and ready to go first thing in the morning. Still, he frets, because it’s not a trip if Makoto doesn’t fret just a little.

“You packed a scarf, right Haru? And gloves and a jacket?”

“It’s going to be around 15C,” Haru answers, flipping idly through Netflix in search of a movie. He pays no mind to Makoto’s pacing.

“Yeah during the day. What if we go out? You never know what Nagisa has up his sleeve,” Makoto counters, turning on his heel towards Haru’s bedroom. “I’ll grab your jacket just in case. Mom will have extra gloves at home.”

He returns a moment later, still fidgety, and exclaims, “What about your charger? And toothbrush? And—”

“Makoto,” Haru calls patiently, tilting his head back so he can peer behind him. They stare at each other for a moment, silent; Haru raises a brow expectantly. Makoto sighs, a sheepish smile upturning his lips, and makes his way over to the couch. Haru reaches out, gripping the hem of his shirt and yanking him down beside him before he can think up another thing to worry over.

“You’re right,” says Makoto, slumping so he can rest his head on Haru’s shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Haru assures him, releasing his shirt so he can run his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair soothingly. “We haven’t forgotten anything.”

“Okay,” the brunet acquiesces, snuggling closer and turning his face to the television. “So what’re we watching?”

Haru selects one of Makoto’s favorites, even though they’ve watched it a dozen times, because he knows it’ll relax him. They settle in, snuggling comfortably for a while until Haru breaks the silence with a soft question.

“Did you want to see the Skytree this year?”

Makoto hums, the sound vibrating through Haru’s shoulder, before answering, “Maybe when we get back. I think I’d like to spend as much of the break as possible with everyone back home. Does that sound okay?” He stirs, adjusting so he can look up at Haru through his bangs, light from the movie reflecting in his eyes.

Haru smiles, carding his fingers through the slightly-too-long fringe—Tachibana-san is going to fuss when they get home—pushing it away to reveal Makoto’s forehead. He leans forward to press a kiss there, murmuring, “Sounds perfect.”

They leave almost before sunrise the next day with hopes of visiting Mount Hakone first. After double-checking that all of their bags are in the trunk, alongside gifts for the twins, Nagisa, and Rei, they only bicker lightly about who should drive for about five minutes. Haru wins, partially because he has the car keys since he rented it and partially because he makes a valid point about Makoto hating city traffic. Makoto pouts, but can’t exactly argue, and plops down in the passenger seat.

Haru offers him control of the radio as a truce, which immediately returns a smile to his best friend’s face. They weave through the early morning traffic, Haru listening with half an ear as Makoto chatters excitedly about their destination. Just escaping city limits takes hours; Makoto falls back to sleep before they’re even out of Shibuya. Haru lets him, knowing the unpredictable traffic makes him anxious, keeping the music low as he navigates them onto the Tomei Expressway.

Makoto wakes some time later, asking groggily, “Where are we?”

“Kanagawa,” Haru answers, “Yamakita isn’t far.”

“What!” Makoto exclaims, eyes wide as his jaw drops, “We’re almost to Mount Hakone! Haru, why didn’t you wake me so we could find a rest-stop and switch out?”

Haru shrugs. “You needed the rest and I didn’t need to stop.”

“Haruuu,” Makoto admonishes, exasperated. Haru doesn’t say anything so the subject is dropped in favor of Makoto noticing the song that’s playing quietly in the background. He perks up, reaching to turn up the volume.

“I love this song!” he gushes, launching into song at the next line. His voice is smooth, certain, with no hint of embarrassment at the volume he’s belting out lyrics. Haru smiles at the sound; Makoto’s singing voice is one of his favorites.

They continue that way for the remainder of the ride with Haru even joining in on some songs when he knows them well enough (though he keeps his singing considerably lower). They roll the windows down to let in the pleasant December breeze as the radio blares; it pulls playfully at their hair, tossing sun-kissed brown into crinkled green-eyes as Makoto sings, head bobbing to the beat enthusiastically. Haru can’t help the smile that tilts his lips at the sight and isn’t surprised when Makoto seems to sense his gaze, turning to grin happily at him.

He takes Haru’s hand from where it rests on his knee, bringing it to his lips to kiss Haru’s knuckles tenderly. His eyes are bright with love, if not a little cheekiness too. Haru feels the tips of his ears heat up at the action but he doesn’t pull away.

(He’ll never pull away.)

“This is amazing!” Makoto breathes in awe, staring out at the expanse of Lake Ashi from the side of the boat taking them to the Hakone checkpoint at the base of the mountain so they can begin their hike. “Haru! We should—”

He stops with a shriek; the pounding of his footsteps across the deck alert Haru that he’s run out of time. Makoto’s faster than ever today—he’s barely out of his shirt—so Haru doesn’t struggle when Makoto yanks him away from the edge of the railing.

“Haru are you crazy?” Makoto scolds, picking up his jacket from the floor and pulling it over Haru’s shoulders as he proceeds to re-dress him. Haru pouts at him but lets him have his way, gazing longingly at the rippling blue water.

Chilly palms grasp his face, squishing his cheeks together as Makoto tilts Haru’s head up to meet his reprimanding gaze. Haru shrugs innocently, mumbling around his cheeks awkwardly, “But look at it.”

“I know it’s beautiful,” Makoto replies patiently; he squishes Haru’s cheeks together a bit more, green eyes boring into Haru’s as he continues, slow and stern, “But it’s December, Haru.”

And in the face of his boyfriend’s utmost seriousness, Haru can’t hold back his grin, amusement bubbling over in a laugh that seems to startle Makoto before he, too, is chuckling. They giggle together for a moment before he leans down to press his forehead against Haru’s, whispering against his pursed lips, “You’re ridiculous.” He kisses him then, leisurely, lips just slightly chapped by the winter wind that’s sharper here on the water than it is on the road to home, but Haru doesn’t mind in the least.

After a day spent hiking the Old Tokaido road, Haru is seriously considering diving into Lake Ashi more than ever but Makoto promises a surprise (that apparently includes copious amounts of water) so Haru restrains himself from jumping ship.

Makoto drives this time, both because only he knows where their next destination is and because he pick-pocketed the keys from Haru at some point on the trail. (Haru wonders what other questionable talents the city has taught his boyfriend; he asks as much but Makoto just levels a smirk at him and opens his car door like a gentleman without a word.)

He tries not to doze off during the ride, especially with the golds of evening chasing them down unfamiliar roads, but Makoto reaches over to hold his hand, thumbing over his knuckles rhythmically, and before he realizes it Haru’s on the cusp of dreams.

He wakes to the sound of Makoto shutting the trunk, stirring into awareness as the brunet opens the passenger-side door to gently shake him. He makes a questioning sound, rubbing at his eyes while Makoto explains he’s brought them to an onsen for the night. As the realization sinks in, Haru finds his sleepiness rapidly fading away; Makoto also seems to notice, chuckling fondly as he steps back for Haru to get out.

Apparently Makoto already took care of renting a room while Haru was napping, so he leads them straight to it, pointing out the way to the onsen as they walk. They drop off Haru’s overnight bag and grab their towels before practically power-walking to the baths.

It’s remarkably empty when they enter, only an older man and a father with his young son occupying the far end of the spring. Haru doesn’t wait, ignoring Makoto’s calls of ‘slow down or you’ll slip!’, though he does refrain from diving in like he wants. Instead, he steps in before promptly dropping himself until the water level is just under his nose. A content sigh has his shoulders sagging, the warmth of the water relaxing his muscles in a way nothing else quite can.

Makoto follows behind, chuckling to himself at the satisfied image Haru is apparently portraying, stepping in at a much more unhurried pace. He settles comfortably beside him, their knees knocking lightly with their proximity, taking Haru’s hand under the water and lacing their fingers together easily.

They stay like that without keeping track of time, only realizing how much has passed when the other inhabitants bid a polite good-night as they leave. Haru uses the opportunity to swim around lazily, more coasting where the current takes him than through any real effort on his part. Makoto observes him with a smile, eyes half-lidded and complacent as he leans back against the stone lip of the spring, arms spread on either side. Haru watches droplets slide over the gold of his skin—down the column of his throat, over the slopes of his shoulders, in between the divots of his chest—disappearing into shadows cast by the lamplight behind him.

“Today was a good day,” he sighs out eventually, tipping his head back to gaze at the stars. Haru glides back towards him, floating forward until his hands brush against Makoto’s chest, sliding up the wet contours to wrap loosely around his neck. The brunet rolls his head to gaze at him, undeniably more alert now, as Haru settles himself over his lap. Carding his fingers through his hair, Haru presses closer so they’re chest to chest, the sensation of Makoto’s quickening pulse filling him with a small sense of pride.

He murmurs breathlessly against Makoto’s mouth, “Let’s make it better.”

The first half of the next day is spent lazing about the onsen, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere for themselves before finally deciding to pack up and continue their trip. This time they agree on taking turns driving, making routine rest-stops to stretch or eat before heading off again.

They make their way to Kyoto first to pay a visit to the Fushimi Inari-Taisha Shrine where Makoto marvels at the seemingly unending Torii pathway, winding through the trees like a red string of fate, and nearly bruises Haru’s wrist in his grip when he see the glimpse of a fox.

Then it’s onward to Osaka, where they spend two days and nights just to visit both Kaiyukan Aquarium and the Festival of Light. They leave with a new dolphin and orca plushie, respectively, and a phone photo album full of dazzling pictures to show their friends later (many of which are candids of Haru, a rainbow of colors highlighting his features, but Makoto promises to keep those to himself). They even manage to grab dinner at a KFC, much to Makoto’s delight.

Finally, they’re nearly home, cruising down the highway towards Iwatobi, glimpses of familiar ocean playing peek-a-boo across the landscape. Something settles in Haru at the scent of salt in the air, relaxing his shoulders in a way only home can; he notices it in Makoto too, how his features soften with nostalgia. They glance at each other, smiles giddy with anticipation, and Haru presses the gas pedal just a little harder.

They’re only roughly thirty minutes away when Makoto says, “Oh! Haru, could we stop by the Hakuto Shrine first?”

Haru slows down a bit, more than a little surprised that Makoto wants to make another stop when they’re so close to home—so very close to his family again—but considers the request.

“You don’t want to go straight home?” he asks to be sure. Makoto smiles softly, shrugging as he replies, “It’ll only add a few more minutes to the trip. Let’s stop for a moment.”

Seeing no reason to say no, Haru alters their course to visit the renowned “Lovers Sanctuary”.

They stop by the shrine office first to get their ema and Musubi Ishi stones and then head towards the shrine gate. Haru holds up the heart-shaped plaque, scrutinizing it’s cute design. The white rabbit decorating it seems to stare back.

“They really go all-out here, huh,” he mutters, lowering it to his side.

Makoto laughs lightly, looking at his own as he says in a playful reprimand, “Well, it is dedicated to the oldest love story in Japan. It suits it, don’t you think?” Haru merely turns his head and foregoes responding, which only causes Makoto to laugh again.

They pass through the gate and pause at the rabbit statues surrounded with previous visitors’ Musubi Ishi. Makoto closes his eyes in a silent wish before placing his own stone amongst the others. He looks at Haru expectantly, waiting.

Haru isn’t sure what he’s supposed to wish for. Something related to love, obviously, like ‘I wish for true love’ or ‘please allow us another year of happiness’.

But those wishes feel stilted, something new or inexperienced lovers would ask for; not them.

Because ever since he can remember, Haru has always known he loves Makoto.

From the time they were children there has been this innate feeling of warmth that fills his chest whenever he’s around the green-eyed boy; a desire to be close, to protect, to cherish. It has never faltered, even during times he was unsure of himself, or what might become of them, unceasingly washing over him in waves throughout the years, often at the most unexpected moments.

He always knew that what he feels for Tachibana Makoto is not something that can be replaced or altered.

So when he was old enough to put a name to the concept, there was no doubt that ‘love’ was the perfect descriptor. He came to this conclusion—I love Makoto—and that was that.

Later it became clear that love has many facets, can be felt in a myriad of ways, and he knew just as certainly that he not only loved his best friend, but was in love too.

Eventually, though, it was obvious he couldn’t just know he loved Makoto—he had to ensure Makoto knew as well. And while many things between them could remain unsaid, understood with only a glance or gesture, this was something that deserved to be told.

So he did, without preamble as he does most things, and has not once felt disappointed or regretful of it. He hopes it’s the same for Makoto.

Finally, a wish forms clearly in his mind. ‘I wish he’ll never doubt the extent of my feelings.’ he prays, placing the stone among the others. He meets Makoto’s patient gaze and takes his free hand, tugging him forward to tie their ema at the shrine.

It’s quiet on the path, the salty breeze playing in their hair as they walk, comfortable in their own thoughts, and Haru knows he would not trade what he holds in his hand for the world.

When they finally arrive on the Tachibana’s doorstep they don’t even have the chance to knock before the door is slammed back to reveal two ecstatically screaming twins.

Haru catches Ren as he launches himself, arms wrapping around his waist, while Ran tackles Makoto, both talking so fast and loud it’s impossible to fully understand them. But Makoto laughs and nods along, lifting Ran into his arms for a bear hug, his smile so wide it’s brought tears to his eyes. Haru watches him as his siblings surround him, his own smile making his cheeks ache.

Makoto’s parents arrive next, exclamations of “Welcome home!” and “We’ve missed you two!” accompanying rib-cracking hugs. They’re ushered inside with the twins still talking a mile a minute. The scent of mackerel and curry drifts from the kitchen, reminding them of their skipped lunch with loud growls from their stomachs that send the twins into a fit of giggles. Tachibana-san grins knowingly at them, clapping a hand on their shoulders before he steps into the kitchen to check on their meals.

The warmth of home and family seeps into Haru as they’re fussed over; he catches Makoto’s eye over Tachibana-san’s head as she flutters her hands over him, zeroing in on his longer hair. Makoto grins, agreeing easily with his mother as she demands to give him a trim before he returns to university, his cheeks flushed with happiness.

They spend the evening catching up on each other’s lives over dinner before Ren and Ran drag them off to their bedroom to show off new belongings and school projects. Makoto gives them their Tokyo souvenirs, sending them into a new frenzy as they rush to show their parents. They finally convince the kids to settle down for a round of video games and aren’t the least bit surprised when they fall asleep on either boys’ laps.

Haru watches quietly as Makoto pats his sister’s hair, running his fingers through its length to gently comb out any tangles, his smile small and soft with love. They eventually pick the twins up and carry them to bed, tucking them in with kisses to their foreheads.

For a while they join Makoto’s parents in the living room to chat a little more; Makoto fills them in on classes and the places they visited on the way while they report any new occurrences from home. The even drone of their voices lulls Haru into a drowsy state and he slumps sideways to rest his head against Makoto’s shoulder, unwilling to pull him away from his family before he’s ready.

Tachibana-san smiles at him, her eyes soft with understanding, and waits for a pause in the conversation to suggest they continue it tomorrow. Makoto agrees, turning his head to press a light kiss to the tip of Haru’s nose.

Later, once they’re freshly bathed and comfortable in Makoto’s bedroom, lying side by side on two guest futons now that they’re much too big to fit in Makoto’s old bed, Haru reaches out to brush Makoto’s bangs away from his eyes, just admiring. Moonlight plays hide-and-seek in the green, turning them a deep shade of emerald. Makoto hums in contentment, pliant to Haru’s whims as sleep beckons him. Haru traces his fingertips down the ridge of his nose, over the slope of his cheekbone until he stops to cup his jaw, thumbing the soft skin absentmindedly. Makoto sighs through his nose, lips curving upward at the attention.

The wish from earlier drifts like smoke to the forefront of his consciousness. Haru feels the words building up in his chest, warmth blooming like a firework between his ribs, so he breathes them out into the quiet between them:

“I love you.”

Makoto’s eyes flutter open, half-lidden and sleepy, his smile widening. He cups his hand over Haru’s, tilting his chin to place a kiss against Haru’s palm as he murmurs back, “Love you too.” Another content sigh and he’s drifted to sleep, lulled by the warmth of Haru pressed against him.