#harutowa

Maybe Haru was like Towa. Maybe he had a place where he liked to go, if just to feel useful for a little while. ‘That hill,’ as Haru calls it when he thinks Towa isn’t listening, is that place for him. She listens to him when he speaks, and she always understands. Just as Towa listens and understands her. Her branches reaching up to the stars he’s only just learning the names of, and he sometimes finds his own hand reaching up in just the same fashion. Falling just short of the sky, as she does.

His hands will fall from their lofty dreams of reaching the stars, and they will instead bring her the comfort she’s so lacking in. Perhaps it’s become a comfort to him, as well, because he keeps going back.

Towa can finally feel that satisfaction in his bones, weighted and content, brimming with something that feels useful.

There’s only a vague idea of love in Towa’s heart, he knows, that he carries around with him everywhere he goes. He’s told love is supposed to feel like something warm, like a perfect sunspot and a perfectly weighted blanket. It keeps you safe, and it makes you happy. …To Towa’s experience, however, that wasn’t exactly the kind of feeling that settled in his chest whenever he thought of the concept of ‘love.’ It doesn’t settle warm in his chest, tucked away like a little fawn. It feels more like something that grips the inside of his ribs, settling in place around his heart as though the cage of bone protecting it wasn’t enough to actually keep it safe.

His understanding isn’t concrete. It changes. It’s hungry. It longs for stories and songs and poems of what love must really be like, because he doesn’t think this feeling in his chest is what that is. This shallow understanding, the idea of what love is, is probably forged from something born of ignorance. Something he’s rooted too deeply in to believe the soil could ever be better on the other side. Unable to bloom.

That’s how she feels, he thinks. Wanting love—the ‘correct’ kind of love—but unable to detangle her roots to find it. Reliant on somebody like Towa, with his own skewed perception, trying his best to heal something as frail as he is.

He’ll hug her. He’ll talk to her.

She’ll thank him. She’ll listen. She’ll respond. She’ll understand.

…This isn’t something Towa understands, many nights, as he ponders under her canopy of dying leaves and shrunken fruits. He hopes he may be on that path to understanding, though. With enough stories and poems being fed to the hunger of wanting in his chest, he thinks he could be.

Towa recalls something that Iris had told him, once or twice probably, that humans used to have many different kinds of love. Different words for each. Different meanings. Nowadays it’s apparently not as common to identify so many kinds of love in one’s heart, and Towa mourns that.

A form of love so different from another, so rich with meaning and with sincerity, ought to be remembered as what it once was. Something separate, but united. Iris says that all those meanings have now been lumped together into one word, ‘love,’ but that doesn’t sound right to Towa. Nor to Iris, but Towa doesn’t always feel as though he understands what Iris talks about. In this instance, though, he thinks he knows.

Towa feels too much. So much that it fills every space available in his being, clouds blanketing every non-forgotten gap, the blue of the sky he feels in his chest becoming grey. It didn’t feel fair to lump all that feeling into a single word, with infinite meaning, and expect it to be understood. Wouldn’t people get confused?

So many kinds of love existing in the world at once was a beautiful thing, wasn’t it? Why change that?

…For a brief moment, sitting with his back propped up against the patched wall of the Jabberwock dormitory, Towa wonders if love is something Haru ever wanted to understand. He was so different when they’d first met, compared to what he was like, now. Towa recognised more of himself in Haru, back then, he thinks. Back when he was nobody, nameless and floating…but he’d never think that of Haru. Haru wasn’t nobody.

Towa thinks Haru must have hurt a lot more, back then. When the orange he dons now used to be something more akin to the wild berries Towa often finds out in the fields bordering the forests. Something rich, addictive, even, but tasting like saccharine toxicity. The darker ends of his hair were longer, as well, and always falling into his eyes.

…His eyes.

He remembers those, too.

…

Towa looks up at the sky above, blurred with clouds, but the stars which he’s learning to name are still there behind the mist. He thinks he can name most of them, by now, thanks to Coriander. He talks about wanting to be normal, a lot, and Towa doesn’t think he understands why. Why would somebody want to be boring?

A soft grunt leaves Towa’s throat as he sits forward, hugging his knees closer to his chest. The jumpsuit Haru had given him smelling like damp grass and salt, something earthy clinging to his skin beneath it, undoubtedly sporting a dust of dirt and gravel where he often kicked off the ground to avoid walking.

For a moment—or perhaps a minute—Towa wonders if ‘love’ was something Haru ever really wanted to seek out for himself. He’d never seemed the type when he’d first become ingrained into Towa’s version of day-to-day life, but Towa can’t seem to help but wonder, nonetheless. He knows he’d like to understand it better, himself, or maybe for himself, but was it something that Haru had ever thought of wanting? These long nights where he snuck out of Jabberwock, strolling off into the night and into the woods, did Haru ever think about it? Coming back hours later, smelling exactly like that colour he used to wear before?

Haru was the one who taught Towa how to feel. Haru was the one who taught Towa what it meant to care for something you wanted to protect. Haru was the one who taught Towa that he was allowed to be able to wantfor something. Iris may have helped to name these feeling, but it was always Haru who introduced them. Confusingly. Frustratingly. …Hungrily.

He learnt how to write. How to fasten the jumpsuit on his body so that it wouldn’t slip right off. How to cut his hair. How to be…Towa.

He was shaped by Haru. By his care, his attention, and his dedication.

…Was that really what ‘love’ was, though?

Iris made it sound so much simpler. Many kinds of love existed in the world, even if they no longer had individual names. Love was abundant. It had to be.

Where did this feeling in his chest, when he thinks of Haru, hoping that Haru thinks of him, fit into that? Was it love?

Towa sighs heavily, hugging his knees just a bit tighter. Chin propped up in his folded arms, lavender eyes drifting across a crowded field with disinterest.

He didn’t used to care about any of this. Not the fields, not the animals, not the dorm. Why constrain himself to living under a finite space, roof blocking his view of the sky? Even that changed when Haru finally came to stay with him. That space, that finite space, felt cosy for the first time, knowing Haru was with him within it.

Where is Haru now, anyways? If the taste of the wind is anything to judge by, he might not be back for a while. Stumbling back eventually, but not nearly soon enough. Blades of emerald beneath his feet, where Towa will, no doubt, be waiting for him. As he always did.

Was that love? Was it caution? All Towa knows is that he didn’t like seeing Haru stumbling like that. Like he was hurt. Even if he wasn’t, if he felt more free in such a hazy state than he ever could otherwise, Towa doesn’t like the idea of Haru getting hurt. He didn’t, before, and he doesn’t, now.

So, he waits. Tasting the freedom he once knew beneath the infinite sky above, blanketed by clouds and stars, the wind his only company. For as long as he allowed it to be, anyways. Left to recall the names of the stars, their stories, their desires, on his own? The wind wasn’t so bad for company. Though, it couldn’t fill a space the way a person would.

He supposes he could wander campus for a little bit. Maybe he’d run into a sleepy Dandelion, again. 

…Towa likes Dandelion, he thinks. …Well, strike that, he knows he likes her. The floral scent that nestled beneath her skin was the most recognisable sort of bloom Towa could ever name. She was interesting, like that. Even if she often smelled like something a little sadder, a little more tired, he thought she was strong. She was brave. She was…kind, to him. Always kind. He likes her smile, too. Even more so, he likes being the one to make her smile.

By all accounts, this should be what love feels like, according to Iris. Wanting someone to be happy, to smile, to find peace in his company. Wanting to protect them, to ensure they’ll always be safe. It’s a light, happy feeling in his chest, and she understands him almost every time, when he tries to talk to her. She’s patient. She’s soft.

But Towa doesn’t think this sounds right.

By all accounts. Towa should love her.

But this kind of love doesn’t sit right in his chest the way he thinks it’s supposed to.

This is what Iris must have meant when he said there were all different kinds of love. Towa likes Dandelion. He really, really does. …But that kind of love wasn’t the kind that made him want to do all the things Iris said people in love could do. Towa wants to kiss her cheeks, not her lips. He wants to be able to hug her close and protect her, but he doesn’t think he could picture himself wanting his hands to wander. He likes seeing the funny expressions she makes, all blushy and cute…but it doesn’t take his breath away, the way Iris’ poems depict.

He really, really likes Dandelion.

But he doesn’t think he loves her.

Not in the way that Iris’ and Coriander’s stories idolise love to be. There’s no crossing of destiny, no fight to remain together, and no beating of synchronised hearts.

…Maybe there was such a thing as a soulmate, who you didn’t want to kiss. If such a thing had a name, would it be hers?

Towa’s gaze flits back over the horizon. How long must have he been waiting, by now? Why wasn’t Haru back, yet? Silently, Towa finds himself hoping that this wasn’t one of those nights where Haru decided to not come back until the morning. When the sun was up…and Towa found himself choking on his words, once more.

He hates those nights. Hates them.

Hates Haru. Just a little bit. Though, also, not really.

…But just a little bit. In the ways that he so sorely wants this empty space beside him to be filled by someone familiar to him. Someone he looks for across these nighttime fields. Someone who makes him angry, sometimes. Someone who accepts him no matter how many times he earns his criticisms. Someone who knows everything right to say at the end of the day, even if some days he doesn’t understand.

Towa can only look down at that empty space for so long before his fingertips begin to itch with some kind of longing he doesn’t know if he’s able or willing to try and grasp. His hand slowly and carefully coming up to be folded into the space between his chest and his knees, feeling the way his bottom lip begins to puff out into a half-conscious pout.

…Why does this empty space beside him, grass too perfectly undisturbed, seem to be the perfect shape to hold Haru, huh…?

If only he wasn’t off making himself smell like something Towa really ought to find a way to replace.

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★ It was around the time that Haru was finishing his rounds for the day and it was rolling evening time in Jabbereock

★ Towa was only helping out because Haru promised him that is he helped out he will have him all to himself all night/ when they finished! So he was eager to finish!

★ Haru smelled like animal and sweat so he wanted to go take a shower, however this is cutting info Towa's precious time with Haru and got a but whiney about it.

★ It was then brought up the offer by Haru that he could come and shower with him just this once!

★ Towa accepted and followed into Haru's room and was getting his clothes off while Haru was making sure the water wasn't too cold or too hot, just enough of warmth to it to be comfortable.

★ Towa didn't show any sign of shyness for being naked in front of Haru, while Haru on the other hand was a bit flustered.

★ Sure he suggested this, but seeing Towa in nude was a whole different thing!

★ In the shower, Towa was standing under the water while Haru was washing him up, Towa didn't mind, it was one of those moments where he was standing still letting Haru roam his soapy hands around his body.

★ Finally, it was his own turn to touch --- wash Haru!

★ It was finally his hands that were touching Haru just the same way he was touching him before.

★ Haru smelled good.. And Towa now smells like Haru since he was using his soaps..

★ Towa leaned in and sniffed Haru, he started to kiss on his neck as well.

★ "Wait Towa! We should do this on the bed"!

★ Towa huffed and grunted but he placed rough kisses on his Captain's neck, making sure no spot was untouched before he used his feet to spread Haru's legs a bit.

★ It wasn't like this was there their first time having sex before, but it still comes as a shock when it happens.

★ " Towa! I can slip and fall"!

★ Not like Towa would let him with the way his arm was wrapped around his waist and the other was wrapped across his chest and under his arm.

★ Haru was pressed against the wall with his hands trying to hold him steady and groaned softly as he was feeling Towa cock entering inside of him.

★ It was hard to focus on one thing, does Haru focus on the cock inside of him, or the water that was still running and hitting their body.

★ Haru whimpered as he was getting closer to his release, Towa came inside of Haru and Haru leaked his cum out and watch it hit the wall in the bath tub before sliding down to join the water and wash down the drain.

★ After they finished, Towa cleaned Haru once more and dried him off.

★ After their moment in the shower, they were in the bedroom, and started to snuggle with the towel on them.

★ But moments later, Towa was getting hard under the towel once more. He wrapped his arm around Haru and was giving eyes that BEGGED for another round.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Towa gets very protective of Haru, even more-so since they started dating. If Towa senses that someone is being weird he starts giving them an evil glare. Haru notices his behaviour easily because Towa makes no effort to hide it. He’s pouty and aloof when he’s jealous.

When Haru goes out to drink he’s often affectionate when he gets home. If he’s not completely worn out, he’ll sit with Towa and cuddle on the couch while the TV is on.

Haru struggles to get Towa to work so he often walks around with him to do tasks. It makes the chores go slower, but since Towa is there it’s 4x faster than usual for the fact that the animals are more inclined to listen to him.

It makes Towa mad when Haru pushes himself too hard when he uses his stigma. Haru insists that he’s fine, but Towa doesn’t understand why he doesn’t listen to him when Towa knows he’s hurt. It’s a source of their arguments and Haru tries to promise that he’ll take it easier. If he actually follows up on his promise is a whole other thing. If Towa is worried enough then he’ll keep Haru in a bear hug.

Rui messages Towa when Haru has a little too much to drink, he knows he’ll carry Haru home safely. Towa likes to carry him princess style ( ´ ▽ ` )

Towa and Haru are very into PDA. When people come across them together, they don’t think they’ve ever seen them not holding hands or linking arms—unless they’re mad at each other. They like to walk each other to class and give a small kiss before they leave one another.

It takes both of them a bit of communication to be together. Haru tries his best to understand what Towa says because either he doesn’t speak or Haru misinterprets what he says. Then Towa gets frustrated when no one understands him. It can be a guessing game, but after so much time together he picks up on little things to tell how Towa’s feeling.