Chapter Eleven: December 12th

The loud slam of Rei's locker snaps Makoto out of what feels like the millionth time he's spaced out today.

"Makoto-senpai, are you feeling alright?" Rei asks worriedly when Makoto jumps at the loud noise. "You look awfully pale."

Makoto rubs his temples and lets out an exhausted sigh. Since his evening spent with Haruka, he hasn't been able to get much sleep. No, I'm not alright, he thinks with disdain. Not in the slightest. "I'm okay. Rei, can I ask you something?"

"Does it have to do with Haruka Nanase?" Rei guesses, pushing up his glasses higher on his nose.

Makoto feels himself grow anxious at the mention of his name. "Yeah," he says quietly. "How'd you know?"

"Just a theory."

"Well," Makoto sighs once again, "I'm not sure how to explain this, but I have a weird feeling that there is something about Haruka that I don't know."

The statement in itself is completely true; Makoto hardly knows anything about the boy. He is lucky he knows five things, but it is the fifth thing Haruka told him that is driving him insane.

You used to call me Haru.

"That would make sense, considering you've just started to become friends," Rei says slowly, not catching on to what Makoto is suggesting. "Care to explain what you mean?"

Makoto then launches into his story about how he went home with Haruka that Wednesday afternoon, and doesn't leave a single detail out. He babbles about his family, how they went to the park, got caught in the blizzard, and how he got Haruka to tell him five things about himself. "...And the fifth thing he said was, 'you used to call me Haru.' And I still can't figure out what he means by that! Not to mention he fell asleep right after, so I couldn't ask him... But knowing Haruka, he wouldn't have told me anyway."

Rei seems to be unfazed by Makoto's nonsensical babbling, and he's listening intently to every spoken word. "Hmmm," He hums, tapping his chin. "How interesting. Did you know him in the past?"

"I don't think so," Makoto shakes his head. "At least, not that I can remember." He groans in frustration, slamming his forehead on the locker, sending a wave of pain through his skull. "This is frustrating."

"What's frustrating?" A bubbly voice asks, drawing nearer to the two.

"Ah, Nagisa-kun," Rei greets the small blonde. "Good afternoon."

"Hi, Nagisa," Makoto mumbles, still face-to-face with the cold metal locker. "How's your day going?"

"Probably a lot better than yours, judging by that look on your face," Nagisa jokes. "What's going on?"

"Makoto-senpai is worried about Nanase-senpai," Rei answers for Makoto before he can get the chance.

"Did he do something?" Nagisa demands, sounding slightly uspet. Makoto knows he doesn't trust Haruka at all, not to mention thinks he's a freak, but the last thing Makoto wanted was to get into another argument with Nagisa about him. It just wasn't worth breaking their five-year friendship over.

"Kinda..." Makoto responds lamely, unsure if he even wants to tell Nagisa what's going on. Nagisa is notorious at Iwatobi High for being a huge blabbermouth; loving to hear about any gossip he can get his hands on. It wasn't like he didn't trust Nagisa; no, Makoto just figured Rei would help him handle the situation more pragmatically. Rei is a very levelheaded guy. Surely he could think of a reasonable solution for this predicament.

"This is what happens when you talk to Nanase, you know," Nagisa crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. "I tried to warn you that he's not trustworthy. And yet you went to go talk to him anyways."

"Nagisa, try to be a bit more compassionate," Rei tells him, his voice straining.

"No!" Nagisa refuses loudly. Rei seems shocked to see him snap. Nagisa turns to face Makoto, crossing his arms across his chest. "Why are you so hellbent on being friends with that guy, anyway?"

The truthful answer to that question remains lodged in Makoto's throat, threatening to choke him. But Makoto knows he can't tell Nagisa and Rei the real reason why he is determined to befriend Haruka Nanase – even though Death never directly specified it, there was something in his voice that told Makoto this was his and his alone.

"I- uh," Makoto stammers, searching for a reasonable lie.

"Wait," Nagisa's frown curls into a knowing smile, and Makoto doesn't know if he should be relieved or worried that Nagisa interrupted him. "Do you have a crush on him or something?"

Makoto's face turns to roses as he peels his forehead off the locker, looking at Nagisa incredulously. "N-no!" He shouts. "You're crazy!"

"You stuttered!" Nagisa points, his finger mere centimeters away from the tip of Makoto's nose. "Oh my God, you do like him!"

Makoto lunges for the smaller boy, clamping his hand over Nagisa's lips. "Nagisa! Keep your voice down!" He screeches, pulling him into a headlock.

Nagisa's eyes are shining with mischief and excitement as he looks between Makoto and Rei. "I knew it," He says proudly, his voice masked by Makoto's hand.

"I wouldn't ever have a crush on Haruka," Makoto says, turning his eyes away. He isn't sure if he's trying to convince Nagisa, or if he's trying to convince himself. "How could I ever like such an ass?"

Though, that is a lie in itself. Haruka is slowly proving to him that he is not an ass, but rather, just a grumpy sweetheart with a soft spot for his younger cousins. Maybe that's why Haruka continues to talk to him – perhaps he thinks Makoto will uncover the huge secret that he's a total sap, thus destroying his scary loner reputation.

"But you think he has a nice as-"

"Nagisa!" Both Makoto and Rei shout irritatedly. Makoto feels the grin spreading wider on Nagisa's face as he looks up at the taller boy innocently.

"Whatever, Mako-chan," Nagisa shakes his head, tired of pushing it. "You can lie all you want, but when you want to come back and tell us the truth, we may not be around to hear it."

And with that, he pulls himself out of Makoto's grasp and brushes himself off, wiping his mouth. "Come on, Rei-chan," Nagisa says quietly, his playful demeanor having completely disappeared. "Our lunch table is always open to you, Mako-chan." He takes Rei's hand and pulls him down the hallway, and Rei shoots Makoto an apologetic smile and a half-hearted shrug, allowing the blonde to tug him towards the cafeteria.

Makoto shakes his head to clear his thoughts, sighing shakily before pulling himself together and tilting his head up.

I can do this.

- - - -

Looking into the mass of the cafeteria, he realizes he cannot do this.

For some reason, it feels like all eyes are on him as Makoto moves through the cafeteria line. He keeps his head down, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he grabs an apple and an order of French fries. When he reaches for the fries, his sleeve slips down his arm and the number 22 practically screams at him you're running out of time! Yanking his sleeve down and praying no one saw the number, he quickly pays for his food, barely remembering to mutter a thank you to the lunch lady before scurrying off.

Five days have passed since he's last seen Haruka. Within those five days, he's tried to concoct some semblance of a plan to save him. He even had Thursday and Friday off from school to figure it out, but he kept getting distracted by the mysterious thing he said.

What does it even mean? Makoto thinks to himself. When did I call him Haru?

He hadn't been able to pay much attention in homeroom, either. He found himself sneaking sideways glances at the boy, who seemed uninterested by Miss Amakata's explanation of the morning announcements and preferred to stick his nose in that same old journal. The bell had rung, pulling Makoto out of the mess he calls his thoughts, and he moved in a daze throughout all his morning classes, completely unprepared for lunch.

All he knows is that it's going to be difficult to face Haruka at lunch today, but at least his company is better than sitting with Nagisa and Rei and dealing with their endless questions and unmanageable banter.

Makoto heads to the lunch table, plopping down without even asking. He has assumed he is welcome here, and judging by the fact Haruka looks up and he isn't scowling for once, he is right.

"Ooh, fries," He notices the food on Makoto's tray and takes a fry out of the basket, chomping down on it.

"Sure, you can have one," Makoto responds sassily, though he doesn't mind if Haruka takes some of his lunch. Makoto never sees Haruka eating at school and he's not sure if it is because he forgets to pack a lunch, he's simply too lazy, or another reason all together. And so, he doesn't care when Haruka takes another, just to spite him. He goes back to doodling in his journal, ignoring Makoto, who is crunching into his apple.

"So," Makoto starts awkwardly. He always feels strange trying to start a conversation with the boy, knowing he'd rather draw quietly than talk about something unimportant. "How has your day been so far?"

"Alright," Haruka responds, nonplussed. After a moment, Haruka snatches up another fry without permission.

"Where's your lunch?"

"Didn't bother packing one."

"Why not?"

Something about that seems to set a spark in Haruka, because he clenches his jaw and pushes on the pencil a little too hard, breaking the lead. "Doesn't concern you," He says in a strained voice.

"What's your problem?" Makoto demands, crossing his arms across his chest. Clearly he's pissed Haruka off within a matter of two minutes, and as far as he knows, he hasn't done anything. He is starting to get seriously fed up with how quickly Haruka gets angry at him. It just isn't fair.

"It's nothing," He replies, and it looks like he is using all of his willpower to keep his eyes focused on the journal and not glare at Makoto. "I'm fine."

Makoto stares at him, unconvinced, trying to take in every detail of his face. He wishes nothing more than to be able to figure out what Haruka is thinking right now.

"What did you mean by what you said to me back at the bookstore?" He asks suddenly, feeling his heart start to beat against his ribcage painfully.

"Please refresh my memory, I said a lot of things," Haruka says boredly.

"That I used to call you Haru."

"I never said that," Haruka denies it with a clench of his jaw.

"Yes you did."

"Are you sure you heard me correctly?" Haruka accuses him, making doubt settle in Makoto's mind. Was he just hearing things? No, that couldn't be right. Haruka spoke so clearly, even though he was drifting off to sleep. There's no way he imagined that.

"You're avoiding the question."

"I don't have to answer if I don't want to."

"Why do you keep lying about everything?"

Haruka stops drawing altogether, and he finally looks up at Makoto. There is a bit of shock in his expression, which isn't surprising, considering Makoto surprised even himself, having no idea where that question came from. He's tried so hard to bottle up his impatience, why is it coming out at such an insignificant moment such as this one?

"I don't know what you're talking about," He says, giving Makoto a stony glare with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. Clearly he didn't appreciate the question any more than Makoto liked asking it.

"Yes you do," Makoto counters.

"Why do I lie?" Haruka repeats matter-of-factly, setting his pencil down on top of the journal, allowing the pages to flip over and it shuts. "That just sounds like another question you're never going to get the answer to."

Makoto narrows his eyes. "So you admit you're lying, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"Yes you did. By saying you won't answer the question of why you lie, that implies you are lying, you're just refusing to tell me the reason," Makoto leans back. He has no idea why he is accusing Haruka so suddenly, but maybe this was something he'd just been needing to do the entire time. A breath he hadn't realized he's been holding passes by his lips when Haruka glares at him.

"What are you going on about?" Haruka says quietly, in a low voice that would've spooked Makoto if he hadn't been so agitated.

"You're a liar, Haruka Nanase."

Something unknown flashes in Haruka's eyes, but it dissipates faster than it appears, but afterwards he does something Makoto doesn't expect.

He laughs.

It is not the laugh that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside; no, this laugh sent a shiver down Makoto's spine, and suddenly he's forcing himself to root himself in his chair so he doesn't run off from the sheer pressure. The laughter is biting and sour, like a lemon as his head falls in his hands, shaking his head in amusement.

"I'm the liar?" He repeats incredulously, eyes wide with unguarded surprise he can't hide. "You sure about that?"

The response in Makoto's mind is immediate, and it scares him. No.

Instead of speaking the truth, he gives him a short nod as he reaches for his fries, touching them for the first time the entire lunch period. Most of them are gone, and they're getting cold, but Makoto needs something to distract himself because he can't look Haruka in the eye.

"Reality is endlessly cold and lonely, Makoto," Haruka tells him in a venomous tone. "Not everything is what it seems."

"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets," Makoto retorts in a quiet voice, failing to look Haruka square in the eye. Something seems to snap in the shorter boy, because suddenly, the moment Makoto lets his guard down, Haruka is reaching across the table and grabbing his jacket sleeve, pushing it up to reveal the 22 on his hand.

"Then why don't you explain to me what the hell this is?" Haruka says angrily, gesturing to the scar. "You know, because you're just so truthful." It all happens too fast for Makoto to react, and all he can do is stare at Haruka's angry face.

His mind swims as he frantically searches for an excuse that will please Haruka. It hits him like a slap in the face when he realizes Haruka isn't the only one here who's been lying his way through his feelings. But it's become an addiction; Makoto knows he can't admit the real reason why he has a 22 on his wrist.

"Let go of me," Makoto hisses, yanking his arm away. "It's my mother's birthday in twenty-two days."

"And you just decided to write it on your wrist?" Haruka looks at him like he's insane, clearly not convinced.

Makoto nods his head as indifferently as he can, trying to hold himself together. He is lucky Haruka isn't holding his wrist anymore; his hands have started to shake wildly and he can feel a panic attack coming on. He takes slow, deep breaths, as to keep his breathing steady.

"You are so confusing, Makoto," Haruka dismisses the accusation with a confused shake of his head.

"Yeah, well, it's not like you're easy to read either," Makoto frowns. "I've spent the past six days trying to figure you out."

"No one asked you to be my fucking psychiatrist, Makoto," Haruka growls. "I can take care of myself just fine. If I'm that much of an inconvenience to you, you can just walk away. I won't stop you."

Tentatively tracing the number on his hand under the table, Makoto knows he isn't going anywhere.

"I'm just trying to understand you," Makoto whispers, fighting back tears. "I just want to be there for you-"

"Why?" Haruka interrupts, his voice rising angrily. "Tell me, Makoto. Why? And don't give me that bullshit friendship and sparkles and rainbows answer you love to use."

"It doesn't matter why. The real question is," Makoto yells back in a similarly angry voice, "Why won't you let me? Would you prefer staying alone the rest of your life?"

"It's worked out for me in the past, why wouldn't it continue to?" Haruka challenges him.

Makoto knows for a fact it isn't working for him, because in twenty-two days Haruka's life is going to end if Makoto doesn't do anything about it. "But it's not working, Haruka, and you can't say it is. Maybe you can't see it yourself, but I can. You're lonely, Haruka Nanase. The secrets you have, they're tearing you apart inside. But not letting anyone in isn't going to help you."

Haruka, who had folded his arms across his chest, was digging his fingers into his skin so tightly his knuckles had turned white. His face was flushed red with anger and embarrassment, and he opens his mouth to say something, shutting it promptly after a moment.

He rises to his feet, pushing the carton of French fries towards Makoto. "Maybe try announcing that to the entire world a little louder next time," He whispers maliciously, grabbing his journal and backpack, and storming out of the cafeteria without another word.

Makoto stares at the now-empty seat in front of him in shock. When he finally snaps out of his reverie, he looks around. Only just now does he notice the entire cafeteria is silent, with most, if not all of the student body and faculty staring wide-eyed at the frozen boy. Their mouths, open-mouthed, are frozen in shock as they had watched the entire scene unfold.

His face coloring a dark shade of embarrassed pink, Makoto scrambles to his feet and grabs his backpack, barely remembering to toss his lunch tray into the trash before running out of the cafeteria, keeping his head down to avoid the judgmental stares. The hot tears he tried so hard to hold back are flowing freely now, streaking down his cheeks as he runs as far away from the lunchroom as his legs will take him.

- - - -

A/N: poor kids just need a hug dammit