Chapter Thirty-Six: December 28th

A/N: sorry for the lack of updates, I've been in Europe for the past two weeks :) finally home and I have nothing to do with my life over the summer so hopefully I'll be updating more frequently :O

The doorbell rings while Makoto is still in the shower.

Honestly, there is no worse feeling than holding everyone up, but when it's in the shower, it suddenly becomes ten times worse.

"Makoto!" His mother calls from the kitchen. "The Amakatas are here!"

Makoto, instantly going into a state of panic, nearly trips but catches himself on the side handle on the wall. He's lucky his hands aren't soapy or he definitely would've fell.

He quickly rinses himself under the pressurized stream of water and fumbles for a towel, scrubbing himself dry. He doesn't bother combing his hair - everything, including his hairbrush, is already packed away - and he rushes to pull on comfortable clothes for the long day of traveling ahead.

In the bottom drawer of his armoire is a pair of dark blue sweatpants and a simple brown t-shirt. After yanking on the clothing, he slips on his sneakers, knots a light jacket around his waist, and puts his eyeglasses on; contacts are too much of a struggle on travel days. When the world crystallizes, he is able to locate his luggage, tossing his backpack over one shoulder and scrambling into the kitchen.

Makoto instantly notices half of the Amakata family is waiting for him; Asuka is situated on one of the island stools and Miss Amakata is in the middle of a friendly conversation with his mom. Haruka's there too, taking in the appearance of the house. Makoto notices he's staring at the pitcher of peach tea sitting on the kitchen table, an unrecognizable emotion in his face.

Because Haruka hasn't noticed his presence yet, he clears his throat to catch the attention of the moms. "I'm ready," He explains meekly.

Asuka snorts in amusement when she takes in his frazzled appearance. "Your shoes are untied," She jokes, pointing. Makoto gasps and looks down worriedly, earning even more laughter from the teen. "Ha! Made you look!" She teases.

"Why are you always late," Haruka deadpans, crossing his arms and glaring at Makoto. For a second, Makoto thinks he's genuinely annoyed (and maybe he unknowingly did something to piss off Haruka again) but there's a bemused twinkle in his eye that shows he's just playing.

Miss Amakata answers the question before Makoto can open his mouth to retort. "Haruka, instead of being sassy, why don't you help Makoto with his bags so we can get in the car," She directs with a snap of her fingers. Her voice is like sugar, but her stare is hard and no-nonsense. 

Haruka grumbles something incomprehensible and grabs Makoto's suitcase from him. Their hands brush as his fingers curl around the handle, and Makoto ignores the way his fingers alight with electricity as Haruka allows the touch to linger a moment too long before wheeling the suitcase away. Makoto meets his eye, but Haruka's expression doesn't change, and he heads towards the door, shaking his head.

"Ready?" Miss Amakata turns to Makoto, smiling warmly.

Makoto grins the best he can. "As I'll ever be," He responds weakly.

Miss Amakata grabs his shoulder reassuringly before following Haruka out the door. Asuka hops off the stool and lingers at Makoto's side. Makoto only just now realizes how short she is; the top of her head only comes to his chest. He shoots her a quick smile of acknowledgement, and she takes it as her cue to leave him and his mother alone.

"Thanks, Mom," Makoto says awkwardly. "For letting me go."

She nods, smiling. "I hope you have a great time, honey," She rests her hands on her shoulders. She, too, is quite short in comparison to him. "But stay out of trouble, okay? I don't want to hear any national warnings concerning you."

Makoto rolls his eyes playfully. Haruka snickers under his breath, and Miss Amakata elbows him, shooting him a glare.

"I won't, Mom," Makoto promises. She pulls him in for a quick hug and he hears Haruka sigh impatiently behind his back. They pull away, and Makoto notices tears prickling at her eyes. Just give him a handkerchief to wave and it would be like the parting scene of Titanic.

"Be safe!" She wails, and Makoto waves before scurrying out the door with the Amakata family.

When they get outside, Makoto notices a giant, white station wagon parked outside. The trunk is already open, and Haruka makes himself busy by loading his suitcases into the back. Makoto peers inside; the trunk is stacked high with luggage – way more than a group of six needs for a five day vacation.

"I'm so glad you're coming, Makoto," Miss Amakata says as she slips into the passenger's seat. "Haruka must be so excited to have someone his age tagging along."

"Asuka's excited, too," Haruka teases with a flirty wink in his cousin's direction.

"Very funny," Asuka squeaks, ramming her shoulder into Haruka, and he giggles, hand flying to his mouth to stifle the noise.

That's right.

He giggles.

Makoto thinks that his stomach is a stick of dynamite, ready to explode at any given moment. He feels his face go red at the sound of Haruka's laugh and he ducks into the back row of the car, focusing on properly buckling his seatbelt.

In the front is Mr. Amakata, fiddling with the car stereo. Suzuka is situated in a booster seat behind the driver's seat; she's tapping away at a game on a tablet. Asuka takes the spot in the second row.

After Haruka loads Makoto's luggage, he slides into the backseat with Makoto. Because one of the seats is down to make extra room for the bags, Haruka has to take the middle seat, which does nothing to ease Makoto's rapidly beating heart.

Of course this would happen. Of course they'd be stuck in the back together, legs, sides, shoulders pressed against each other. Of course Makoto would feel every movement of Haruka's under his skin, even feel the rhythmic pattern of his breathing the entire way to the airport.

At this point, Makoto wouldn't even be surprised if this is Chaos' doing.

The entire drive, Miss Amakata talks about how absolutely gorgeous Normandy is. She explains how they're staying in her husband's parents' villa, which is one of the oldest homes in their tiny seaside village – "It's quite similar to Iwatobi, just older!"

The villa is only half a mile away from the beach; yes, those beaches, the ones where the soldiers liberated France on D-Day in 1944. She goes on and on about how amazing it is to look off the cliffs with the salty sea breeze tickling your skin, to stand in the fields and feel the soft grass between your toes.

However, since it's December, the weather is sometimes dreary, so she hopes that he packed warm clothes.

They arrive at the airport forty grueling minutes later, and Makoto is the first to scramble out of the station wagon. Haruka, seemingly unfazed by the prolonged body contact, goes to open the trunk and the family starts to unload the luggage.

Everything that could possibly go wrong in the process of getting to the gate goes wrong. Murphy's law is on Makoto's mind as he finally collapses into his plane seat, boarding pass still in his hand.

Getting through checking, printing out boarding passes, and going through security took forever due to the inclement weather. Suzuka's passport got denied the first time because it was mysteriously ripped, and the lines were backed up around the corner. Asuka left her backpack in the McDonald's restaurant just minutes before boarding, and they all had to rush across the entire airport and back in record speed to make the flight, only to find that it was delayed an hour.

While the rest of the family pray that their flight would still continue, Makoto internally curses out Chaos, who, judging by the way the hair was standing up on the back of his neck, was most likely gleefully watching the disaster unfold.

Luckily, they call the different zones for boarding an hour and a half later, and Makoto breathes out a sigh of relief. They board the plane, already exhausted, and they still had a twelve hour flight ahead of them.

Makoto actually melts into his seat, which, luckily enough, is a window seat. Ever since he was a child, he loved getting the window seat. Taking off and landing were the best parts of a flight, and he always watched with utter bewilderment as the plane sped up and took off into the air, the world getting smaller and smaller until they were above the clouds.

Mr. Amakata's in the seat next to him, and he's just putting his luggage into the overhead compartment when Haruka, who is two rows ahead, pipes up.

"Maybe we should switch seats, Tonton," Haruka suggests, and he doesn't mind switching. Haruka shuffles into the aisle seat and buckles his seatbelt. When he's situated, he grabs one of the flight-issued brochures and begins to flip through it. Makoto can handle the silence for about thirty seconds before he's squirming in his seat, bored.

"So, what now?" Makoto wonders aloud, leaning back in his seat. His eyes flicker between the window and Haruka, who seems absorbed in the brochure.

Haruka barely glances over at him. "What do you mean, what now?"

Makoto gives him an are-you-kidding-me look, knowing it's pointless. "Are we just going to sit here quietly for twelve hours until we land in France?"

"Well, I'm going to read this brochure," Haruka answers slowly, looking incredibly amused at Makoto's exasperated expression. "You see, looking at overpriced packages of fish crackers and really tiny bottles of wine greatly amuses me."

"Haru-chan," Makoto whines, elongating the honorific in a childish voice, "You're no fun."

"Didn't you bring anything to keep yourself busy?" Haruka points out, gesturing to his personal item, which Makoto had kicked under the seat in front of him.

Makoto thinks back to when he was packing, remembering he packed a couple of books to amuse himself on the flight. He reaches into his backpack to grab a novel, then waves under Haruka's nose in spite, as if to prove something.

"Great," Haruka rolls his eyes. "Then read that book. I'm going to sleep." He uncoils a pair of earbuds from his phone and plops them in his ears, shutting his eyes. He's silent after that, and Makoto studies him for a moment before giving up and opening his book.

After a few minutes, he hears Haruka's breathing even out, just as the plane begins to move. Makoto stares out the window in admiration as the plane drives around the take-off strip, pausing briefly before the engine roars to life. It starts to race forward at top speed, picking up more and more speed until Makoto feels the wheels lift off the ground. They ascend into the clouds, going higher and higher until they're above what looks like an endless blanket of fluffy cotton balls.

The pilot's voice comes on the intercom, announcing that the flight would be twelve hours and thirteen minutes, and they would be landing in France at seven twenty-two in the evening - though, it would feel more like two in the morning for them, due to the seven hour time difference. The pilot tells them to buckle up until the indicator light flashes off, get relaxed, and watch out for the snack cart coming around soon.

Makoto, satisfied by the takeoff, flips to the first page of his book and begins to read. It's the second book in the Harry Potter series - his favorite - and he's already read it twice before. Still, the story is no less entertaining as he dissolves into the whimsical world of magic and adventure. As he reads, he finds himself feeling more relaxed than he has in a long, long time.

And even for a moment or two, he's able to forget who he is. 

It's relieving.

Eventually, Haruka, still asleep, falls on Makoto's shoulder. Startled at first, Makoto carefully reaches for the jacket around his waist and wraps it around Haruka's shoulders.

He may be imagining things, but he swears he sees the faintest of smiles curl on Haruka's lips (he's getting good at spotting when Haruka smiles, even if it's hardly nonexistent). Haruka instinctively snuggles closer to him. He buries his face into Makoto's neck and Makoto feels his face flush pink.

It is in this most inconvenient time that the air hostess comes by with her cart of beverages and asks in a monotone voice if he wants anything to drink. Makoto declines politely, feeling his face burn even hotter. The lady, unfazed, shrugs one shoulder and turns to the people across the aisle from them.

Makoto tries to focus on the words of his book, and not the way that Haruka's warm breath is fanning the exposed skin on his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

After a while of trying to stay perfectly still and steady his breathing, he realizes he is too tired to feel shy.

His heavy eyelids start to droop, and he eventually drifts off, head resting against Haruka's, his book left opened on his lap.