Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

FRIDAY, APRIL 7TH, 2023 — 5:00 AM.

When the authorities arrived near daybreak, Mount Takao Forest was a bloody mess. The remains of various animals littered the forest floor, half eaten and torn to ribbons. The beast that had massacred the poor creatures had done so without mercy or restraint, ate its fill and moved on. They found Makoto first, wounded and filthy from his struggle to survive and also unconscious. From there, the group split into two forces. One stayed behind to care for and stabilize Makoto, while the second group traveled deeper and carefully into the forest to search for the Chris and David.

What they encountered at the ruined campsite by the lake sent several medics to their knees, heaving in disgust. What remained of Chris and David was scattered across the clearing. Bits of flesh here, pools of coagulated blood there, and gun shells littered the ground. It was clear they had emptied everything they had into Joar, and bits of white fur on the ground made a clear picture of the hopeless fight for their lives when that failed.

Samples were taken, and within the day, the Mount Takao Forest and surrounding areas were closed to the public entirely and indefinitely.

——————

FRIDAY, APRIL 7TH, 2023 — 7:45 AM.

Haru is a mess. No, he’s worse than a mess; he is losing his fucking mind.

His eyes and throat are raw from screaming and crying, arms bruised from the force of Sousuke’s grip when he had held Haru back. Of course, Haru had fought him, but it was pointless — Sousuke was a pillar of a man and would not be moved by someone so much smaller than him. He hadn’t been unkind to Haru; in fact, their relationship had improved over the past few years and especially since Kisumi had all but claimed him in his Kisumi-way. Rin had held him from behind, and if Haru tried hard to remember anything past the blood-curdling terror in Makoto’s voice, his desperate pleading for help, he could remember Rin’s sobbing in his ear as he held Haru.

Oh Gods, Makoto’s desperation.

Haru all but slams his head against his window to try and get the sound out of his head, has already pulled at his hair and nearly ripped it all out until Kisumi held his hands in a vice grip to make him stop. Makoto wasn’t the bravest person in their friend group in the face of horror, but he had never been so scared in Haru’s nearly twenty years of knowing him. It wasn’t just fear because Haru had seen and heard Makoto afraid before. Haru can remember all the times Makoto held his shirt for comfort while they slept beside each other as little kids or how in high school, he had been scared of the ruins of Iwatobi Swim Club before it had been remodeled under Coach Sasabe’s leadership. Makoto was afraid of the idea of ghosts, jump scares in movies and of rodents. He still sometimes had nightmares about The Boogeyman, and every night since they had moved to Tokyo for university Haru would happily stay on the phone with Makoto as he turned off all the lights in his apartment at night, running to his bedroom as if something in the darkness was chasing him. It never failed to make Haru smile, imagining his massive friend running to the safety of his blanket and pillow fort combination to hide from the dark at twenty years old.

What Haru had experienced hours ago on the phone with Makoto was not fear. Something had hunted Makoto, something real and horrifying and not made of shadows that had Makoto out of his mind in some primal, ancient way that humans could only access when faced with genuine malice and evil. Haru had been powerless to help the boy he loved. He had been forced to listen to his hysterical pleading for help, but could not save him as something right out of a nightmare took place more than four-hundred miles from the safety of Haru’s arms.

Even now, Haru could remember the sound of metal tearing, Makoto’s renewed fight for his short life, and the sound of a knife viciously stabbing over and over into flesh. If he searched his mind even harder, hard enough his eyes nearly popped right out of their sockets from the effort, he could remember something worse than all of that.

Laughter.

Even now, his blood grows even colder, like ice, and his hair stands on end at the memory of that guttural, twisted sound. It had been loud enough that the room went silent hearing it; everyone frozen in place. Whatever it was, bear or not, the thing had laughed at Makoto. Haru couldn’t explain the wrongness of it but he certainly wasn’t alone in that, could see it in the stunned face of Makoto’s father as he held his unconscious wife, in Sousuke and Rin’s eyes, and even Kisumi, who had backed himself in a corner with his hands over his mouth in horror.

It laughed at his futile attempts to survive. Not like a person, but like something pretending to be. It laughed because it had been amusing that Makoto was terrified. It played over and over in his head like a broken record.

And Haru just… Couldn’t. Make. It. Stop.

By the time the plane landed and their small group had made their way to the line of rental vehicles parked outside of the airport, Haru had picked his fingers until they bled and had moved up to the back of his hands. It was a nervous habit. And the raven-haired boy had no nerves left. No one noticed, thankfully, as he piled in behind the Tachibanas. He had yet to leave their side, refusing even as he heard Rin call to him.

Haru would not risk any further separation. He would be among the first to get to the hospital. He would be with Makoto again. He dared anyone to stop him. The ride to St. Luke’s International Hospital was frustratingly slow. Traffic was terrible today despite it being so early, though the rush hour wasn't until more than an hour later. Because of this, the typically twenty-minute drive became nearly an hour, and Haru was bristled up like a furious black cat. He was screaming at people mentally to get the fuck out of his way, screaming at the driver to quit being a fuckimg coward and do his job, at Mr. Tachibana on the phone with doctors who confirmed Makoto was alive but in critical condition, even at Mrs. Tachibana where she consoled her youngest children on her phone because they had been forced to stay behind with Ms. Amakata.

He was screaming at everyone and no one because not even a tiny squeak could escape his lungs.

He hated everyone standing in his way of being at Makoto’s side. Could they not see that Makoto needed him? That Haru needed Makoto? Was this his penance for not speaking his feelings sooner? That now he could lose the boy he loved, his best friend, any moment?

They finally arrived, and Haru felt a horrible stinging at his throat where he flung him out of the seat, the seat belt breaking. He can hear people yelling his name, but the burst of speed makes wind whoosh in his ears which carries away all other sounds.

Haru runs, runs so fast that he feels he’s flying. Space seemingly moves out of his way and bends to his very will — one minute, he’s at the bottom of stairs just off the street, and the next, he’s at the front desk. Nurses gasp in shock at his sudden appearance, eyes wide as this crazed boy materializes in front of them.

“Makoto! Makoto Tachibana! I want to see Makoto Tachibana! Now!”

The words are forced out, the demand to be delivered expeditiously to Makoto clear in his tone. The nurses are surprised, eyes wide as they take in his crazed appearance. He looks absolutely feral right now and feels every bit of it, like an animal that will soon start its own parade of chaos in this very room any second if he is denied what he wants. Heavy footfalls can be heard behind him, and Haru turns on his heel to face them, expecting security guards but instead seeing a shock of red hair and teal — Asahi and Ikuya. Who called them?

“Haru… Haru, you need to calm down-” It’s a terrible mistake Ikuya makes because Haru loses it. He flings his arm across the counter, and things he cannot place right now hit the floor.

“Don’t tell me what to do! I want to see him! Now! Take me to him!” He screams venomously, and suddenly he is aware of more people because bystanders cry out in shock at the outburst. Ikuya’s eyes widen, and suddenly Asahi has big arms around him and is lifting him like he weighs nothing. He screams to be let go, to take him to Makoto that he wants Makoto, but even as he hits Asahi with flailing limbs and clawing fingers, kicking shins and even groin, it makes no difference because Asahi doesn’t let him go no matter the pain or trouble he puts the redhead through. He carries Haru to a place in the far back as he sobs uncontrollably, leaving Ikuya to do damage control with the nurses, who are suddenly very empathetic instead of on the verge of calling for security.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Asahi’s got ya; I’m right here.” He holds Haru to his chest, rocking his friend as he rubs his back. Haru screams his grief, still struggling in Asahi’s hold, suddenly remembering the faces of Chris and David — they had always been so kind to him, and Haru had just repaid that with thinly veiled disdain.

He was just as monstrous, maybe even worse because at least the monster that had hurt Makoto likely looked like one — Haru just looked like a person.

Time passes. He watches mournfully as the items he had thrown in his grief are picked up and how the Tachibanas are immediately taken down a hallway through a door. Haru jerks to go, but Asahi and his other friends hold him back. “No,” Sousuke says, where he has taken over the Keep Haru Under Control watch and had him thoroughly locked in arms much stronger than Asahi’s. And it’s him that does this because he’s the only one who can tell Haru no, the only one with the heart to do it. “Not yet. You have to let them work on him, okay?”

“B-But he needs me.”

“He’s always gonna need you. But right now, he needs you to let someone care for your wounds and eat something.”

Haru, and the others, are now aware of his bleeding hands and seat-belt burned neck.

“Haru! What did you do, what happened!? Nurse! Nurse, we need-” Rin is shouting now too, and Haru winces when he sees orange scrubs moving to them quickly.

“Stop; I’m fine.”

“Like hell!”

“Is everything okay here? We heard someone calling for help.” A voice radiating comfort reaches Haru’s ears, and he looks up to see one of the nurses that had been at the front desk during his rampage. Her skin is a warm, earthy tone that reminds Haru of being in his grandmother’s garden at sunset before she passed. Her curls are in a loose bun atop her head, and her name badge says ‘Hello, my name is Lilavati.’ in kanji.

He immediately feels safe with her, enough so that Haru croaks out a dry “No.”

She offers him a soft, reassuring smile as she pulls up a seat, putting her bag next to her. “Well, it’s okay not to be okay. In fact, a hospital is the best place to not be okay in.” She replies, and Haru very nearly cracks a smile. Sousuke releases Haru as Lilavati reaches out to him. She checks his hands with a thoughtful look and then his neck.

“I can tell you that you’ll recover from these — but I would like to get you cleaned up as soon as possible, in a private room preferably, if you would be comfortable with that.”

Haru nods his confirmation but hesitates. “I don’t think… I can’t walk.” He is so suddenly aware that his body is frail. He hadn’t eaten since early the day before, and his antics used up what little energy he had left.

“Of course. Wait here for me; I'll be right back.”

While she is gone, he straightens himself, embarrassed by his current state with his ruffled clothes and tear-streaked face. He had never allowed himself to be like this in a public setting before, having only come close to it during his third year when he had broken down during regionals.

When Lilavati returns, it’s with a comfy-looking wheelchair, and before Sousuke or anyone else can attempt to help, she has single-handedly gotten Haru into it. “There we are, nothing I can’t fix. Are you ready?” She asks kindly, and Haru finds he appreciates the act of letting him have some modicum of control over his shitty situation.

Makoto’s shitty situation, too.

Just as he nods at her, Rin and Asahi rise to follow. The nurse clicks her tongue at them, and the two boys immediately sit. “I think he and I have this under control. Why don’t you wait in the cafeteria for us? Tell them Vati sent you, and they’ll take care of you.” With that, she wheels Haru away to a private room. Just as it shuts, he sees his tired friends slump against each other, sees Nagisa break down into sobs, and Asahi whispering into Ikuya’s messy hair.

“They’ll be okay. So will you, with enough time.” The nurse tells him knowingly, and he flushes at being caught in his thoughts. She smiles again kindly, and Haru can tell she does a lot of this by how naturally it comes to her. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re having a bad day, and so are they. It's natural to worry.”

With this, she gets to work, cleaning his arms with warm, soapy water and sticking an IV into him. It isn’t long before he is feeling much better.

“My name is Haruka,” he tells her, realizing she’s here helping him, and he hasn’t even told anyone his name. “You can call me Haru.”

She looks up at him with the warmest brown eyes he’s ever seen and grins. “It’s lovely to meet you, Haru. My name is Lilavati, but please call me Vati if you don’t mind.”

He’s taken aback by her kindness, even after his breakdown in the lobby earlier. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t… I wasn’t…” Haru has always somewhat struggled with words for anyone that wasn’t Makoto, and now Makoto isn’t here, and no one else knows him enough to know what he means.

Lilavati regards him with compassion in her eyes, and he winces when she thoroughly cleans the claw marks on his hands and fingers. “Haru, what is the worst thing that you think I’ve ever seen before?” She asks him very seriously. He doesn’t know what to say, tongue thick and useless in his mouth. She seems to realize this because she doesn’t wait too long to continue. “I’ve seen babies torn from their screaming mother’s arms, gunshot wounds still bleeding long after someone is gone, once I even saw someone with an internal decapitation from a gymnastics injury, just yesterday actually.” The mental imagery of it disturbs Haru, but even that is preferable to the imagery of Makoto fighting for his life.

“Pretty bad stuff, yeah?” She offers, and Haru nods for her wordlessly. The warm cloth is dipped back in the water before she cleans under his nails. “A young man desperate to see the face of the man he loves, so out of his mind with grief, he doesn’t even know where he is, doesn’t even chart in the top three hundred for me.” She finishes, and Haru cracks a smile for her — a sad, pathetic one, but she seems pleased to see it. He wants to ask how she knows he loves Makoto, but her eyes tell him she just does. “Your apology is appreciated and accepted but is ultimately unnecessary. You didn’t mean to cause a disturbance, and anyone that saw it would know that.”

Haru shyly looks at her from under his lashes, raven locks falling into his face. “Will you tell the other nurses I’m sorry, though?” He asks as she rubs what he assumes is some antibacterial medicine on his wounds and dresses them. “Of course I will. We’ve been worried about you for a bit, if I’m honest, but until your friends called for help, we thought it best to give you space. They will feel better knowing your people are taking good care of you.”

It lifts a small amount of pressure from Haru’s chest, but even that tiny amount feels like a ton. “I still feel bad about the mess. I should have cleaned it up myself.” She clicks her tongue thoughtfully as she finishes dressing his hands, which are now blood-free and clean, before tilting his head to clean his neck. “Ehh, don’t worry about it. Messes happen in hospitals. Plus, Ms. Diandian at the front desk is very particular about it, so she would have redone it even if you had. If you want to make it up to her, though, I can give you our coffee orders, and you can buy us coffee in the morning.” Lilavati winks at him, and he nods his head in confirmation that he would like this. Several minutes pass in silence before the nurse speaks again. “Haru, I have a question. Please don’t answer if you're uncomfortable, though.” Haru nods, biting his lip nervously as a bandage is applied to the burn on his throat. “Do you know what self-harm is?”

Her words click in Haru’s mind, but he nods in confirmation again.

“I can tell you didn’t mean to do this, but you did harm yourself, which worries me. Do you have anyone you can talk to about this? Whether purposely or not, I want to make sure this isn’t a cycle that continues when you are in stressful or undesirable situations.”

Haru breathes slowly, afraid he is about to be locked up when Makoto desperately needs him. “Yes, I do. Her name is Vera Hathaway — she’s been helping my family and me with some things, but we meet weekly.”

Lilavati hums, seemingly content with his answer. “Lovely. I know Mrs. Hathaway — she does good work.” Comfortable silence as she takes it upon herself to clean his face until the dry crust from lack of sleep and his tears are gone. “I think, when everything has calmed down and the dust has settled, you should talk to her about this. She can help you make sure this doesn’t happen again. Will you do that for me?”

And, of course, Haru can’t tell her no, so he nods, and she seems pleased. She gently removes his IV, putting a green bandage on the area. She helps him back into his wheelchair and wheels him from the room after disposing of the used materials. Haru finds himself too embarrassed to look at the front desk, at least full-on. Still, he catches the stares of the nurses there as Lilavati wheels him right on by as she chats about the hospital and her job — they smile and turn back to their work, so at least she was honest about them not being angry with him.

She makes time pass by telling him directions around the hospital, but none of them include Makoto’s location. He does listen, though, too tired and in his head to make real conversation, so he mostly hums to let her know he’s still listening. Eventually, they find their way to the cafeteria. It’s large with beige walls, the lights that warm yellow that make you tired instead of the glaring fluorescent Haru hates, and is mostly empty except for his friends who have a literal feast in front of them that has seemingly just been served.

“Haru!” Everyone calls out, standing up immediately.

Lilavati giggles as she rolls Haru up to the circular table and shows him the breaks and how to unlock them. “Your friends are very animated. I like them.” She tells Haru as she stands, one hand on her hip as she takes in the large group of young adults — Haru is aware there are others here now; Seijuro and Momo and their sister Isuzu, Nao and Natsuya, and even Aii who had just been out of the country with his uncle last Haru had heard. “Well, everyone, eat up because I can tell none of you have. I leave my good friend Haru in your hands for now, but I will return soon after I do some work.” She winks at them, and as sudden as the wind, she and her comforting aura are gone.

Instead of being awkward or asking Haru how he is, everyone starts to eat, which he gratefully appreciates because he cannot handle being questioned right now. Rin busies himself, serving both Haru and himself, keeping an eye on Haru’s plate to make sure he’s not only eating but has enough. The food is delicious, and Haru can tell that the staff put a lot of care into the work they do by the sheer quality of it. While he still feels like he has to choke it down, Haru manages to eat well, considering. Soon the food is gone, and Rei is stacking plates and trays neatly before taking them to their designated areas.

Lilavati’s presence graces Haru again, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I wanted to let you know I inquired about your friend.”

Haru’s head snaps upwards, blue orbs wide as he awaits her information. Vati caresses his hair comfortingly. “Makoto is out of surgery and stable.” Before everyone can jump for joy, she raises a manicured hand for silence. “He isn’t out of the woods, though. I will not bother mincing my words because that isn’t the comfort you need. He sustained serious internal injuries from his experience and is currently in a coma. Doctors expect a full recovery, but unfortunately, he isn’t awake.” Her gaze carries a lot of empathy, and both hands cross behind her back. Haru feels his heart dropping, and he closes his eyes before tears can spill. “What is best now is that your friend rests, that you all rest. He is well cared for here, and we will not let anything else happen to him. I won’t let anything else happen, not in my hospital.” She seems to look all of them in the eye, and Haru can feel her gaze on him as he looks at his bandaged hands. “The nurses have agreed to let you all make use of an on-call room if none of you wish to leave tonight, but please know that walking these halls like ghosts will not help him heal, and it will not make you feel better either. I highly suggest tomorrow everyone heads home for real rest and self-care.”

She gets down to Haru’s level, tilting his head up by his chin with a gentle finger. “You’re all welcome here, and if anyone gives you trouble, let me know, but you also have to continue living. Your friend is young and, from what I hear, in perfect physical condition. He will survive this. We have no idea what recovery will look like, but he will survive.”

The ‘And so will you.’ is there but goes unspoken.

Haru understands that her words come from a place of love and wisdom, from seeing people waste away in these halls waiting for their loved ones to come back. She doesn’t want that for them. It also seems that while there are undoubtedly people above her in this hospital in rank, Lilavati is the one who runs it.

Haru chooses to stay, which is obvious — but he is surprised that almost everyone else voices their desire to as well. The only ones who leave are Nao, who has work he cannot get out of, Seijuro, who has to return to the team for training in the morning, and Natsuya. The latter hugs Haru so tightly that it shocks Haru; he realizes that he cannot remember Natsuya having ever hugged him before now. “I’m so sorry,” He whispers into Haru’s ear before straightening himself, ruffling Haru’s hair affectionately. He’s holding back tears and sniffles deeply before grinning. “Lena will want to know how everyone is. She wanted to come, but I felt we should keep this intimate.” Lena, Natsuya’s girlfriend, was the newest addition to this little pack of misfits and pretty well-liked by everyone aside from Ikuya, who barely concealed his disdain for her, and Asahi who would never dare to like anyone his lover didn’t. She also happened to be Albert’s younger sister and was just as drop-dead gorgeous as him in that Swedish supermodel way.

Haru still doesn’t feel well enough to walk, so Lilavati wheels him to their on-call room for the night as the others follow behind. It’s pretty spacious, Haru notices as he’s wheeled in. It has several bunk beds, a large circular table with chairs in the middle, and a decently sized flat screen wall mounted on the furthest wall with several faux-leather couches surrounding it. It didn’t feel like an on-call room like from the shows Haru had watched, but it would do for the night.

“Lilavati, I can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate your kindness. Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to repay you?” Rei begins, and the nurse laughs as she hugs Rei, who seems to sink into it. He clearly needed it.

“You’re too sweet, but it was nothing. Helping people isn’t always bandages and medicine, but I appreciate your appreciation.” She releases Rei and lays the television remote and a hot pink Post-it note on the table. “You are free to use the wifi, and the tv does have all the usual streaming services; the logins are here on this note. If you choose to, please use my account so as not to disturb anything Diandian watches — I fear her wrath if we interrupt her nine-hundredth rewatch of The Vampire Diaries.” Lilavati laughs and turns to Haru for her obvious parting words. She hands him a separate orange Post-it — her flowery writing is on it. “This is my personal number if you find yourself in need of a shoulder or kind ear. Don’t hesitate.”

She doesn’t allow Haru to object as she turns to the door. “The lock does work if that makes any of you more comfortable. Please keep any noise at a reasonable level, but don’t hesitate to find anyone if help is needed. When you are finished with the wheelchair, just leave it here for someone to collect. Good evening to you all, and sleep well.” With that, Lilavati is gone once more, and Haru is alone with his friends.

The tears don’t happen immediately, but they do come within the hour and soon they’re all crying. By the time they stop, Nagisa has turned his favorite American cartoon on — Phineas and Ferb. They all sit around the television like children, trying to forget that Makoto is somewhere in this hospital, fighting to make his way back to them. By the time Haru falls asleep, which consists of being sandwiched between Asahi and Ikuya, his temples are pounding from exhaustion and tears.

He dreams of swimming in a dark pool with no bottom, just endless darkness. He feels like he’s being watched, and when he looks down, he sees a white-furred monster with no face swimming up to him rapidly. Haru cannot move or escape, and a paw wraps around his ankle and drags him below the surface. When he looks up, he sees Makoto’s horrified face reaching for him, but they are too far apart for either to reach the other. His fingers skin just below the surface of the water, and just as Haru begins to drown, everything goes white.

Haru finds himself in an endless white space, a space that felt hot and cold to him, both silent and so loud he could not think. He felt like he was going insane.

“Wake up, little fish.”

“G-Grandma?”

His grandmother is on her knees beside him in this endless place, and her hands cup his dripping wet face.

“I know you have questions, but you need to wake up. You don’t belong in this nothingness.”

“What is this place? I don’t understand.”

She smiles sadly, but then there’s something like fire in her eyes. She touches his forehead, and Haru suddenly feels a sensation like he’s being dragged backward.

“WAKE UP!”

——————

SATURDAY, APRIL 8TH, 2023 — 8:00 AM.

Haru wakes with a start and a scream on his lips that never comes. He hits his head on the top bunk, which not only makes Asahi jump and do the same, but also makes Sousuke roll off the bed in surprise. Asahi whines as he rubs his head, and Ikuya giggles next to him. “Stupid Asahi.” He says sleepily but affectionately and leans up to kiss his forehead. Haru wants to feel a type of way watching them, a pang of hurt, but before he can, he sees a pink-haired head swing down from the top bunk, violet eyes shining. “Howdy, Haru. How are you this morning?” Upside-down Kisumi asks, and Haru looks down and away. He can see the light stretching across the floor through the bottom of black-out curtains, which means it’s the next day.

Kisumi disappears before swinging his body gracefully off the top bunk, helping Sousuke up while tenderly kissing his face. “I’m gonna go get coffee — text me orders.” And with a wiggle of his fingers and a wink, Kisumi sashays out of the on-call room. For someone who hasn’t showered in a day, has been crying and sobbing, and slept in a hospital bed with a man who gives off more body heat than a small furnace, Kisumi certainly looks like he just waltzed off a magazine cover. Haru finds it cosmically unfair.

Warm tea in hand after freshening himself up, Haru makes his way to the nurse's station after sneaking away from the others who are content to hover like hawks over him. When he arrives, it seems that Kisumi has made good on his promise to deliver the coffee because the nurses there are happily sipping on their beverages.

“Good morning Haru!” A middle-aged Chinese woman with a pixie cut calls to him, and her name badge identifies her as the infamous vampire-loving Diandian. She welcomes him with a motherly hug that he gratefully accepts. “How are you feeling? Is there anything you need?” She asks him kindly, and Haru nods.

“Is Vati in this morning?” He asks, and Diandian turns to a fair-skinned nurse who shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing. Her name tag says her name is Océane, and she speaks to Haru with a thick French accent. “Unfortunately, my love, this is her day off, but she has updated everyone in the building on the current situation, so any of us will be happy to assist with anything you need.”

Haru blushes, but not from embarrassment. It touches his heart that a stranger would go so far to help him in this way.

“Are you looking for him?” Diandian asks, and Haru nods. She even told them about Makoto. This woman certainly deserves a raise and maybe sainthood.

“I will take you to him. I need to check on Mrs. Lo next door so that will be, eh, two birds with one stone as the saying goes.” Océane offers, locking his arm with her, chart in her other hand.

“Are you sure that's okay? I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

Océane laughs in a way he can only describe as audibly cursive. “My love, the nurses run this hospital. If we say it is okay, do not worry your pretty little head about it.” If it had been some random person, Haru wouldn’t be sure how to feel about being called pretty, but Océane made him feel safe. Like an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. Before they leave, Haru stops and bows to the nurses as deeply as he can muster with his stiff muscles.

“I deeply apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was a bad day, and I wasn’t myself. Please forgive me.”

He only straightens when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see Diandian, that same motherly smile on her face as when she had greeted him.

“No more apologies. The past is in the past, and today is new. Plus, it gave me inspiration for new desk decorations.”

Haru flushes and nods. When he looks, almost the entire surface is covered in the most beautiful blue flowers he has ever seen.

——————

Océane is a great conversationalist, but most people find themselves in that position with Haru anyways. Despite his significant improvements in his sociability lately, Haru found that he was undoubtedly more introverted no matter what.

“Thank you for letting us have the on-call room.” Haru says between a moment of silence as they walk upstairs. They could have taken the elevator, but Océane suggested the steps might help loosen his muscles which turned out to be a good suggestion because he didn’t feel half petrified anymore.

“No worries, angel. There are several in the hospital, and we have very good schedules, so we rarely stay overnight. I am glad you could rest after the harrowing day you had.”

“It wasn’t easy, but I do feel somewhat rested. I might have nearly given myself a mild concussion when I woke up, though.”

The nurse turns to him, concern and humor mixed in her eyes, and Haru doesn’t bother telling her not to worry as she looks over his head. She finds the spot he hit, humming in her lovely way before she diagnoses. “You will be fine, just a minor bump, but I suggest a cold compress and ibuprofen for swelling and residual pain; maybe do not do any strenuous exercise until tomorrow.” She even pulls a red, heart-shaped sucker from her pocket, which makes them both giggle and then they leave the landing. It’s a quiet part of the hospital, and Haru gets the feeling he shouldn’t make too much noise.

Eventually, she shows him Makoto’s door, and he feels almost frozen to the spot. It’s decorated in pretty fake green flowers, and Haru notices all the doors have similar decor. Before she goes over to the neighboring resident, Océane stops him with a gentle hand on his elbow.

“Haru, I must let you know, his appearance may be shocking, according to his nurse. Do not be alarmed, most of the outside damage is superficial and will heal quickly. Try not to work yourself up too much, and know I am just next door if you need anything.”

Haru swallows thickly, nodding his head as he steels himself.

When he enters, Haru is so shocked he nearly faints. The worst injury Haru had ever seen Makoto face was when they were nine, and he stepped on a piece of broken glass. It hadn’t been too bad, but the boy had cried, which was given when a piece of glass was lodged in one’s foot, but Haru had hugged him tight until his tears became sniffles and then stopped altogether as the family practitioner removed the shard.

This was nothing like that — Makoto was covered in bruises and cuts and various bandages. His handsome face was swollen, and while he thankfully wasn’t on a breathing machine, he certainly looked dead. While the hospital room itself is large, cleverly decorated in greens with a big window open to let in the outside, Makoto seems so tiny that Haru almost moves to make sure it isn’t some fake wax replica and not his Makoto.

But it is Makoto. Bruised and battered and beaten, he is still Haru’s Makoto.

He’s sobbing before he even realizes it. His hands are holding the edge of the bed, and he is choking on air and tears. His form shakes in its grief, the force so powerful Haru fears he will split in two. Then there are hands, which firmly pull him to a sofa across the room.

“It is okay, Haru. I should not have let you come in alone; I did not know his parents were at breakfast. I am sorry.”

Océane.

Haru wants to say it’s okay, that it’s his fault. Because it is his fault that tbis happened. He should have stopped this. If he had, then Makoto would be at home, Chris and David would be alive for him to tolerate, and his heart wouldn’t be breaking.

Instead, all he can do is sob one word brokenly repeatedly.

“Why?”

Océane does not have an answer, but she does hold him until Makoto’s parents arrive, and she allows them to take her place. The three make a terrible pair and hold each’s shaking forms while Makoto’s unmoving form rests.