Archive of Our Own

February 2026

Taki glared at the bottom of the bottle like it had personally wronged him. He looked around for the millionth time. He was always searching for something, but he never knew what. The dingy bar was empty at this time of night, and an employee was already sweeping up crumbs and crumbled receipts from off the floor. 

Taki was debating whether or not to order another beer when the sound of the door opening got his attention. He turned his head, getting a bit dizzy already. A man walked in. 

His eyes widened when he saw Taki. Taki recognized him, but his name escaped him. The man walked towards him immediately with a smile on his face. Taki braced himself, as he usually did with anyone from his past.

"Hey, man!" He said, clapping Taki on the shoulder. Taki had to force himself not to jerk away out of habit. He smiled politely.

"Hey."

"How's it going?" The man sat down on the seat next to him.

Taki nodded noncommittally. "Good, good…" he lied. 

The guy snorted. "Is that why you're at the bar at 2am on a Wednesday?" 

Taki shrugged. "Don't have anything better to do." He averted his eyes, staring instead at a poster for the local high school theater production. The sight of it made his stomach twist.

The man patted Taki's shoulder again. "Hey, cheer up, dude. Let's just relax, right? We're not in math class anymore." He laughed at his own comment. Taki forced a smile. He thought about making an excuse and going home.

"How are you?" He asked instead.

"I'm alright," the man answered, though it didn't look like he was telling the entire truth either. "Just got off the late shift at the restaurant across the street. I still smell like pizza." He chuckled. He pointed at the empty bottle in Taki's hand.

"Let me buy you another," he offered. Taki shifted in his seat.

"No, it's fine," he said quietly, "I actually-"

"Excuse me!" He shouted to the bartender. Taki winced. "Can we get two more bottles over here?" 

Taki picked at his fingernail as he mourned his escape plan. Looks like he was stuck here a while. The man, oblivious, picked up his own beer bottle and clinked it against Taki's. Taki smiled painfully before taking another swig.

"Man, work's been killer," the man said unprompted, exhaling a heavy breath. "You know they got this new guy running the place? He's the son of the old owner and God he has no idea how to run a business…"

Taki felt his eyes start to glaze over as the alcohol and the man's words washed over him like water on rocks. The man went on and on, never stopping for Taki to get a word in. Taki was almost grateful that he was doing all the talking. The last thing he needed was to start crying at a bar to an almost-stranger. After twenty minutes and several beers later, Taki was completely out of it. Then, the dreaded words left the man's mouth.

"Hey, you still hanging out with that guy? That little guy from drama club?" He asked casually, like he suddenly discovered there was another person in the conversation.

Taki's heart picked up speed as the world snapped back into focus as he realized who the man was talking about. "Harua?" He answered in that dazed tone he hadn't used in so long. Putting the syllables together felt like his lips were betraying his heart. He felt a twinge under his ribcage as they left his mouth.

"Yeah!" The guy exclaimed, pointing in Taki's general direction. "Harua."

Taki fidgeted with the back of his jeans. Somehow, someone else saying it was worse.

"Do you still hang out with him?" The man continued. "You two were attached at the hip in high school." The man laughed to himself.

Taki swallowed. "I…I don't anymore." He cringed. He sounded like a kid who dropped his ice cream cone; pathetic and on the verge of tears. In the back of his mind, he wondered when he would stop feeling like he got run over by a bus at the mention of his ex.

"Can I be honest?"

There were so many ways this could go. Taki hadn't even decided how to answer before the man just carried on anyway.

"He's always been a little bit of a bitch," the man stage-whispered, smirking. Taki froze, his insides turning to ice. He set his beer on the bar with a loud thunk and slowly turned his head.

"What?" Taki said, voice low and dangerous. His freezing stomach suddenly boiled over, red-hot rage bubbling up to his neck.

The guy was alarmed. He put his hands up. "Well, I just meant-"

"No," Taki interjected sharply.

"I'm just saying, like," the man barreled on, too inebriated to use his better judgment. "Just because you're gay, doesn't mean you get to act like you're better than-"

Taki could only watch as his fist shot out on its own accord and connected with the man's jaw. One second, they were sitting and talking, the next the man was on the ground, clutching his chin. Taki shook out his hand. Fuck, that hurt. The man looked up at him, shock and terror on his face.

"What the fuck?!" He yelled, scrambling to his feet. Something ferocious roared in Taki's chest, something he didn't recognize. It scared him, but not enough to stop him from getting in the man's face again.

"Say something like that again," he warned him. "I dare you."

"Hey!" Another voice barked to Taki's left before he was grabbed by the shoulder and forced away from the man. The bartender was pulling him back.

"Get away from him," the bartender said sternly. "You want to fight? Go outside. But you're not doing this in here."

The man sighed in relief. Taki's chest burned in fury, and before he knew it he was breaking out of the bartender's grasp and grabbing the man by the collar. The man cowered. Taki scowled at him. 

He was pried away again with more force.

"I'm going to have to call the police," the bartender said through clenched teeth.

Taki thrashed wildly. He wondered if he was possessed. He couldn't concentrate on that thought for too long, though. It swiftly got burned away in the spitting acid of his stomach. The man across from him shook his head.

"You're crazy, dude," the man said in disbelief. "You're not at all like you were before." Taki tried to push forward, but couldn't.

"You're done," the bartender said. Then, Taki was being dragged out the door. The frigid winter air hit his face and stole his breath. A few seconds later, the door opened again and Taki's jacket was unceremoniously tossed out into the cold. 

Taki bent down to pick it up and a wave of nausea hit him all at once. He tried to breathe, holding onto the side of the building for support. He shut his eyes, begging for it to pass. Mercifully, it subsided after a minute. He straightened up slowly. 

Taki looked around at the barren streets of the city. Home was too far without a cab. He didn't have much time to think about it before the screeching sounds of a police siren assaulted his ears. He plugged them with his fingers. Shit. They were only on time when they didn't need to be. The police car pulled up to the bar. The bartender walked out shortly after to greet the officers.

"Someone causing trouble again?" The male cop asked. The bartender jutted his chin out towards Taki.

"Punched a guy," he said, matter-of-fact. "Would have done it again if I hadn't held him back." The officer looked at Taki. Taki felt like a deer in the headlights. His stomach twisted once again.

"You're the culprit?"

Taki swallowed down his anger. "Yes, sir," he mumbled. It wasn't in his blood to be disrespectful to the authorities, no matter how much he wanted to run.

"What was that?" The cop stepped toward him. Taki breathed in quickly.

"Yes," he said louder, sharper than he intended. He tried to take a step forward, but wobbled and collapsed onto his hands and knees. The cold concrete dug into his palms. "Ow…" he muttered weakly. The world spun again.

The officer sighed and picked up Taki by the shoulder. The female officer arrived and helped him lift Taki, who was struggling to breathe through his vertigo. He let himself get dragged along, not having much of a say in the matter anyway.

Taki mumbled a name. He didn't know whose it was, but it tasted bitter on his tongue.

"Come on, buddy," the male cop said. He shoved Taki roughly into the backseat. Taki fell, a jumble of limbs splayed out on the cold cushion.

The door was slammed behind him with a sharp thud. The sound rattled in Taki's brain. The cops muttered something to each other with a laugh before the woman stepped on the gas. Taki spent the whole car ride trying not to throw up. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his back, though he was still shivering from the cold. He clenched his fists.

When they arrived at the station, the door opened again. A hand reached into the car and dragged Taki back out. He grumbled. When he was upright, he tried to stand on his own. He stumbled again, the cop barely catching him on the way down. They processed him. It was all a blur of Taki doing what he was asked to the best of his ability.

They threw him in a holding cell with a couple of disgruntled college-aged kids who looked more than a little gone. It smelled vaguely like urine. Taki scrunched up his nose. The college kids glared at him. He backed up until his spine was against the wall. He slid down so his legs were touching the floor. He blinked slowly, the quiet hum of keyboards and conversation began to muffle as his eyes fell all the way shut.

About an hour later, Taki was getting shaken by the shoulder.

"Hey, kid," a voice was barking. Taki looked up, bewildered. An officer was jostling him. "You want to make a phone call?"

"Huh?" Taki asked, still half-asleep. The edges of his vision were still blurry, and he squinted to see the officer's face.

"Phone call," the officer said. "It's your turn."

"Oh…" Taki tried to push himself up. Predictably, he stumbled, his arm shooting out to hold on to the wall. The officer didn't help. He just stared at Taki impatiently. When Taki was fully upright again, he followed the man to where a metal box was. He sat down on the chair beside it.

Taki picked up the metal corded phone and stared at the array of buttons. He just had to put in a phone number. Someone who cared. No, someone who would pick up. No, someone he needed. He needed. He needed-

Taki punched in the first number that came into his head.

"Hello?" Harua asked sleepily. 

Taki burst into tears. 

March 2025

Taki pointed to the eighth tree he had found notable during their walk. Harua sighed, already resigning himself to his fate.

"No, okay, but," Taki said quickly, desperate to keep his audience, "this one…" he paused dramatically.

Harua looked unimpressed. "What."

"Looks like if a man was in the middle of picking his nose when he got turned into a tree," Taki finished, giggling through his words.

"How many people get turned into trees where you come from?" Harua's face was mostly unchanging except for a whisper of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Taki, predictably, pounced on it.

He pointed at Harua. "You think it's funny," he said, grinning.

"Not really," Harua said, though it was mildly unconvincing. He had grown from that petite kid who was first learning how to blame the trench in the backyard on the dog into a young man skilled at weaving little fibs into daily conversation. Something - maybe knowledge, maybe time - still gave away Harua's fondness for Taki, no matter how he argued against it most of the time.

They walked for a moment, laughter floating in the air like pleasant humidity. Then, a woman was passing by. Taki initially just looked away. Then he did a double take. She noticed him, too, and did the same. Her face lit up. She walked towards the two of them.

"Taki?" She asked. "Harua?"

"Kasumi?" Taki replied. His old neighbor laughed.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed. A wide smile spread across her face. "It's so good to see you two!"

"You too," Taki said. "Seriously." He glanced at Harua. He thought about the three of them in a blow up pool filled by a hose, splashing each other and running away when the other retaliated. Something soft and warm bloomed in his chest.

"How have you two been?" Kasumi asked. "I haven't seen you since…. Wow, since graduation!"

"Has it really been that long?" Harua asked.

"I know, right?" Kasumi laughed again. "Seems like just yesterday we were all eating ice cream on Harua's back porch."

"And getting it everywhere," Taki added.

"My parents wanted to kill me," Harua said.

"Hey," Kasumi said, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm so glad you two are still friends."

A lump formed in Taki's throat. He laughed a little too loud. "Yeah…haha…friends. Looove being friends with him. We're really good friends."

Harua's smile dropped, and he landed a piercing glare on Taki. Taki cleared his throat. Kasumi's face fell.

"Oh, are you not-" she hesitated. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, no," Harua said quickly, shaking his head, his smile back on. "Taki's just being Taki again."

"Oh…" she said, still looking concerned. Then, in a flash, it was gone, replaced with a soft smile. "Well, I've been doing alright. Got a new job."

"Congratulations," Taki said, though it came out quiet.

"Hey," she said. "Take care of yourself, okay?" She put a hand on Taki's shoulder. Taki recoiled. Kasumi's eyes widened.

"I'm sorry!" She said hurriedly, pulling her hand away. "I forgot. Sorry."

Taki, still shaken, waved his hands in front of him. "It's okay! Don't worry about it."

Kasumi flushed. "Okay, well…" She looked past them, towards the other side of the park. "I have to get going. Nice catching up with you!"

"You too," Harua said gently.

She smiled once more, then turned and briskly walked away.

Taki sighed once she was out of earshot. He buried his face in Harua's shoulder. "Well, that was humiliating."

"You still do that?" Harua said.

Taki lifted his head. "Huh?"

"Pretend not to like it when people touch you," Harua explained. Then he smiled, bumping his shoulder against Taki's. "Come on. I know you like getting hugs. It's, like, your favorite thing." He rolled his eyes, saying it like he was describing an alien.

Taki thought about it. "I think I pretended so much it became true." 

He linked his pinky to Harua's, and the other didn't move. Just accepted it, easy as breathing.

Harua laughed softly, enough to think Taki wouldn't notice. Taki always noticed. "Should I be honored?"

"Always."

It's funny the way love changes you. Even before they were dating, love existed in every fiber of their relationship. In the obvious, loud way that Taki tore through the fabric. In the quiet, gentle way that Harua threaded it with a needle between every interaction, every silent acknowledgement. What had started as Taki not wanting Harua to feel alone had become part of his personality. Living proof of how much his life was entangled in Harua's, like vines wrapping around themselves.

They walked along in comfortable silence for a few moments. The warm spring breeze passed between them like it was saying all the words that didn't need to be verbalized. Finally, Taki spoke. He extended his left arm to a maple tree that looked like it was performing a Shakespearean soliloquy.

"Okay, so that one-"

"I'm leaving," Harua said, abruptly breaking away from Taki's side to run the other direction. Taki chased after him. Harua laughed when he saw Taki behind him, then doubled down on sprinting, picking up the pace.

"You know you can't beat me at this, Takayama," he called over his shoulder.

"Oh really?" Taki challenged, already panting. "You know - huff - you couldn't get rid of me - huff - if you tried."

Harua laughed wholeheartedly. "Believe me, I've tried." 

He booked it, leaving Taki in the dust.

February 2026

Taki, shockingly, woke up in his own bed. His head felt like a woodpecker was drilling into it. His stomach groaned in protest. His body ached. The first thing he did was pick up his phone. It was plugged in, somehow. He looked at the top notification. What he saw made his stomach drop.

Harua

How are you doing?

He read it and reread it. This didn't seem possible. Then in one terrible wave, it all came back. The bar, the police station, the phone call. Harua had picked him up, he remembered that. That must be how he got home. And why his phone was plugged in. His heart sped up at the thought of Harua in his room again after so long, touching his things. What had he even said last night? What boundaries had he crossed? Why did he make the decision to call the one person he refused to let see him fall apart? Taki felt the urge to bury himself alive. Maybe he'd already done it.

His stomach reversed itself, and he took a shaky inhale, bracing himself. The storm passed, and he stood on wobbly feet. There was a glass of water he hadn't noticed before on his bedside table. Harua, no doubt. He lifted it to his lips, feeling like it was symbolic but too exhausted to figure out how. The smooth water ran down his scratched throat. 

He stared at the message again for a minute straight. Then, with a sigh, he typed in his response.

I'm fine.

Another lie. Add it to the list. He got another text almost immediately.

Do you want to get coffee? I'll pay

Taki stood, speechless. Either the universe was playing a sick joke on him, or Harua just loved torturing Taki this much. Because this couldn't have possibly meant what Taki hoped it meant. With shaky hands, he texted back.

sure

Without warning, the nausea came back stronger than ever. Taki ran to the bathroom. When he was done, he lay down on his bed again. He threw an arm over his face. He was screwed, wasn't he?

By the time Harua had come to pick him up, Taki had managed to find some clean clothes to put on. He checked and rechecked himself in the mirror at least a dozen times, but there was no amount of hair smoothing and skin de-puffing that could hide the utter mess that was his face; pale and slapped by exhaustion, with deep circles under his eyes. He sighed heavily.

Then the realization finally hit him. His heart started to beat out of his chest. He would be alone in a car with Harua for the first time in months. Well, fully present at least. It didn't take long to convince himself he was going to royally screw this up, if he hadn't already. How was he supposed to act normal when he had no idea what his inebriated self had even said the night before?

His phone dinged, and he glanced at it. Harua was here. He swallowed around thoughts too heavy to acknowledge, and opened the door. By the time he made it to the lobby, sweat was already building up on the back of his neck. He opened the front door and looked to his right.

There he was. Pretty even under the grey sky, his hair gently tousled by the wind like in a cheesy movie where the protagonist decidedly did not get into a bar "fight" and fall asleep on the ground of a holding cell. Taki was not in a movie, and Harua wasn't his savior. He'd made that mistake too many times.

When he approached, Harua gave him a brief up-and-down. He gave Taki a wry smile.

"Tired?" He asked. Taki nodded. A flicker of surprise appeared on Harua's face. "That bad, huh?"

Taki didn't know exactly what he meant, so he just nodded again and climbed into the passenger seat, his heart still thrumming in his chest. The smell of Harua's car hit him all at once, along with the memories. He should have been used to getting these waves out of nowhere, but he wasn't. It still felt like putting his face in a wasp's nest. He tried to control his breathing.

"You okay?" Harua asked when he'd sat down. Taki looked at him and saw concern. Irritation flared.

"I'm fine," he grumbled.

Harua's eyebrows raised. "Okay, then," he replied, slightly jagged. He turned on the car and started to reverse out onto the main road. "Sorry for asking."

Taki exhaled. Uncomfortable silence followed, broken only by Harua's turn signal and the voice of the GPS. Taki swallowed loudly, immediately cringing internally. He stared at Harua. He couldn't help it. Harua somehow looked older, even though it had only been a few months since he saw him last. He wondered what he'd been up to. Last Taki heard he was dating some paralegal from out of town. Probably some stuffy nerd who still lived with his parents. Or maybe an older man with a master's degree and a condo. Someone who could treat Harua the best, just like he always wanted. Maybe he-

"You don't have to give me the silent treatment, you know." Harua remarked when he caught Taki looking. He smirked just a little, like he thought it was cute. But Taki knew better.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Harua snorted. "Don't be sorry…just talk to me." He glanced over at Taki. Taki looked away. He stared at his hands. He had no idea where to start.

"You never thanked me for picking you up from the station last night," Harua said. Not bitter, just observing. Guilt filled Taki's stomach all the same.

"Sorry," he said again, then winced. "Thank you," he corrected. "Seriously."

Harua shrugged, making a noncommittal noise. "Felt like the least I could do."

He said it so casually, but it hit Taki like a truck. Felt like the least I could do. The rest didn't need to be said. When he looked up, they were pulling into the cafe parking lot.

They walked to the front door, Taki swinging it open and holding it for Harua without even thinking. Harua silently walked ahead of him and went to the counter to order for the both of them. Taki felt a pinch under his ribs. Familiarity haunted every movement they took like a vengeful spirit. Being comfortable was so uncomfortably natural for them.

Taki took a seat by the window, away from the businessman and the elderly couple. Harua slid into the seat across from him. Taki swallowed, covering it up with a cough. Harua's eyes darted towards him. In other circumstances, Taki would have cracked a smile. Now he just sat silent.

"Okay," Harua said, leaning his elbows against the table, "do you want to talk about last night?" The words came out steady and neutral, but Taki couldn't help but conjure the image of being asked to the principal's office with your parents already sitting inside.

"Uh…" Taki tapped his foot under the table. "Not really, but…" He trailed off, shrugging.

An unreadable expression crossed Harua's face. He leaned back and took a heavy sigh, exhaling to his right. When he looked back again, his eyes had a sadness to them that made Taki squirm.

"Well," Harua said, "let's start with this. What do you remember?"

As he thought, the tap-tap-tap-tapping of his foot floated to his ears, annoying even to him. He stopped.

"I remember the bar," he said. His eyes drifted somewhere over Harua's shoulder. "I remember getting arrested. And…" He sighed. "I know I called you. In the police station." He looked back at the other boy. Harua wore a removed expression. He nodded.

"Do you remember the drive home?" He asked.

"I remember that more than anything else," Taki answered, fiddling with his hands now. "I think the alcohol was wearing off by that point."

"I see," Harua said. "Do you-"

He was interrupted by the server arriving with their order. Harua smiled politely at her.

"Thanks," he said, taking both drinks. He slid one over to Taki. When the server walked away, he continued.

"Do you want to talk about what happened at the bar?"

Taki cringed, shame creeping up his neck. "I didn't tell you?" He asked weakly.

Harua shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I know you got in a fight." He chewed on the inside of his lip, examining Taki. "I don't need to know the details," he clarified. "It's just… not really like you."

What do you know about me? the cruel voice in his head echoed. He shook it away.

Something dangerously close to empathy flickered in Harua's eyes for a moment. Taki had to look away. He took a careful sip of his drink, trying his best not to upset his sensitive stomach. It scorched his tongue, which seemed like an apt punishment.

"I…did get in a fight, but…" Taki stared at the notches in the wood table. "He was just saying things that weren't…"

He looked up at Harua, as if pleading him for release. Harua just looked back.

"-weren't true," Taki finished quietly. Harua squinted.

"About you?" He asked.

Taki exhaled. "About you," he mumbled.

"Oh," Harua said. He considered it, taking a sip of his own drink. He sat back in his chair, a heaviness falling over him. "I guess that makes more sense."

Taki felt his insides crisping up. He wanted to be anywhere but right there in that moment. He should've just said no to all of this. He should've walked out of that bar. But here he was, in the middle of the town square, in front of the worst person to see him brutalized. He sipped his drink again, almost relishing the burning sensation. Harua eyed him.

"What did he say?" Taki looked up in surprise.

"Huh?"

"I'm just curious." He smiled lopsidedly, though it didn't really fit on his face. However, Taki could tell he was serious.

"Uhh…" Taki's eyes darted nervously. "He said…you were a…"

Harua smiled a little, for real this time, if a little stiff. "I'm sure I've heard worse," he said. It was true, but that didn't mean it was any easier.

"A bitch," Taki whispered, the word twisting awkwardly on his tongue.

It was silent between them. Then Harua laughed, biting and shockingly loud. Taki straightened up. The tension in Harua's shoulders noticeably loosened, and it was like Taki had jumped back in time. Suddenly they were back at the diner after school, eating too many omelettes and laughing about things Taki would never remember now, but felt like he would never forget. Despite everything, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"That's it?" Harua asked, grinning now. "He couldn't do better than bitch?" He laughed again, more subdued this time. When he saw Taki couldn't smile all the way, he schooled his expression into a more somber one.

"Sorry," he said, genuinely sympathetic. "You know I'm not laughing at you." He quickly picked up his coffee.

"Yeah, I know," Taki muttered. He still felt like he was boiling alive, but Harua had smiled. It was a small consolation prize, but after months of deprivation, Taki would take anything he was given.

"So was that it?" Harua asked him, the trace of laughter still hanging in the air.

"Was what it?"

"Was that all he said?" Harua clarified. "He called me a bitch and you decked him?"

Taki's ears burned. He started examining his fingers as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. "He did say…" Taki hesitated, "something else…"

"Oh?" Harua leaned forward an inch. Taki's heart sped up out of instinct.

He picked at his fingernail. "I don't really want to repeat it…"

Harua's ears practically perked up. "Is it that bad?" He had never looked more interested.

"No, it's just…" When Taki looked up at Harua, he saw a kid with shiny eyes staring back at him. A lump formed in his throat. He sipped at his coffee, desperate to ground himself before he slipped away into hysteria.

"He said something about you…" Taki kept his eyes trained on the floor. "-being gay…and thinking you're better than other people."

Harua snorted. "Because I'm gay?" Taki nodded. Harua laughed short and breathy. "Hah. Well, he's probably right anyway." Taki shifted in his seat, guilt clawing at his stomach.

"At least I'm honest about it," Harua said, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "He can't even admit how he feels without getting drunk." Taki tried to smile, but couldn't. Harua was looking at him, but he didn't have the courage to look back. Harua hummed.

"Look," he said, setting his drink on the table. "I don't want to torture you." Taki exhaled out his nose.

"But," Harua continued, "I wanted to tell you what you said last night."

Taki swallowed around words of protest, mouthing nothing like an infant finding its first word. "Okay," he squeezed out, looking up. Harua had that heaviness around him again. His eyes were contemplative and something else Taki couldn't place.

Harua started slowly. "You were upset. You were trying to convince me to come, but you weren't making a lot of sense."

Taki sipped, hand gripping the coffee a little too hard.

"You said you missed me," Harua said. Taki winced. "You said you've been wanting to call me for months, but you were scared of what I would say."

Harua waited until Taki set down his cup completely before saying his next words.

"You told me you still loved me," he said simply.

For the second time in his life, Taki's heart fell so fast he wasn't sure it would ever come back up. It beat in his stomach, ashamed of its own actions.

He snapped his head away. He had no desire to know what kind of expression Harua was wearing at that moment. Probably detachment. Maybe disgust. Taki felt his face heating up, and leftover nausea from the morning made itself known in his gut.

This was it. The endimg of all. His star had burned out for the final time. There was no coming back from this. One drunk mistake and the best thing in his life was out of his reach for good. Until…

"Let me show you something." Harua said suddenly. He stood up, pausing for a moment. Taki mustered up the courage to look back up. Harua returned his gaze with a curious expression. Then, without a word, he started walking towards the door. Taki stuttered for a moment before quickly grabbing his coat and following behind.

May 2025

Taki sat on the edge of the bed. Harua sat next to him, but they felt worlds apart. Taki dug again under his middle fingernail. It stung. Harua was saying something, but nothing was registering in his ears.

"I don't get it" echoed in his mind over and over again, filling in every fracture.

"I just don't understand," he mumbled. Harua exhaled gently through his nose.

"I already told you," Harua said patiently, "I just don't think it's going to work out."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means…" Harua took another deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "We shouldn't be together anymore."

Taki felt something shift in his soul. Maybe something that could never be fixed. The world tilted a little more on its axis, the walls of the room closing in around him. He picked at his pinky finger, scratching himself on the edge of his nail. He shook his hand out. 

Harua bit his lip. "Here," he said, taking Taki's hand in his. His soft fingers traced a soothing line along the side of Taki's pointer. Taki stared, dumbfounded. One second Harua was saying they shouldn't be together, the next he was acting like nothing ever happened, as if Taki's whole world hadn't been shattered in an instant. Tears stung in the corners of Taki's eyes.

"I need to go," he said, voice wavering. He got up and grabbed his things.

"Taki, wait." Harua stood up and followed him out into the living room. "I want to have this conversation with you."

"Then have this conversation!" Taki snapped, turning to face him. "Don't…mess with my head." Taki's heart was pounding in his ears. He dropped his hands to his sides to stop them from shaking.

"I'm not-" Harua sighed. "I just want you to stop running away and-"

"When have I ever done anything wrong?" Taki interrupted. Tears fell freely from his eyes now. 

"You said you would tell me if I did anything that you didn't like," he continued, voice breaking. "Why are you saying this now?

Harua hesitated. "There was never a right time. I didn't want to hurt you."

"So you held onto it?!" Taki's face twisted in anger. "That's worse!"

Harua flinched like he'd been hit. "It's only been a couple of months…" he said quietly.

Taki scoffed. He swiped at a trail of snot running from his nose. He didn't think he could look any more pathetic. "I thought you respected me," he said, suddenly sad again. Harua's eyes turned downward.

"I do," he said. Then, with more conviction, "I do respect you."

"Then why are you doing this to me?" Taki trembled with the weight of a moment his brain couldn't comprehend. A beat of silence.

"I want what's best for both of us," Harua said into the space between. Another moment of silence.

Anger bubbled up in Taki's chest once more. This was not what was best for him. He grit his teeth.

"You're being unfair," he spat. "You're being…" a flurry of cruel words came into his mind, but they all stopped when he looked in Harua's eyes. He couldn't say that. Wouldn't say that. He couldn't imagine hurting Harua the way he was hurting right now. Years of trust, of love, of uphill battles, of making fun of each other for stupid things, of lifting each other up. Harua had torn it all down in a heartbeat. Like it was nothing. Like it wasn't Taki's everything.

Taki held onto his bag harder. He slung it over his shoulder and turned to walk away. As he opened the door, he heard Harua's voice, soft and shaky.

"Come back…"

Taki slammed the door behind him.

February 2026

Taki followed Harua back outside, feeling like he must be missing something. As he climbed into the car, he realized there was no reason he couldn't have just decided to go home. But with Harua, reason had gone out the window a long time ago. Taki ran on pure emotion, falling without a parachute.

Harua turned on the car without speaking.

"Where are we going?" Taki asked.

Harua was silent. It was impossible to read his face, stoic and focused as it was. He drove without navigation, pulling onto a familiar road. Taki's heart thrummed in his chest.

"What are you doing?" He asked again.

"Driving," Harua said curtly.

"Why are we going towards-"

"You'll see," Harua interrupted.

Silence stretched thin and jittery. Taki tapped his foot. Harua's face twitched when he was stressed, a habit he probably wasn't even aware he had.

"What have you been doing?" Harua asked, voice smooth as glass.

"What do you mean?"

"Since we last talked," Harua clarified.

Right. Talked.

"Not much," Taki said quietly. "Just…getting through school."

"Hm," Harua hummed.

Anxiety twisted in Taki's stomach. He couldn't tell Harua about the nights he spent agonizing over what he did wrong, or the days he refused to get out of bed. He couldn't talk about the pit in his stomach that hadn't left in almost a year, or finding hair that had fallen out at an alarming rate. Harua's face visited him almost every night in his dreams, a haunting reminder of what he couldn't have.

As much as it killed him, Taki had to know.

"Do you…" He stopped himself. Harua glanced at him. Taki cleared his throat, regaining his courage through sheer painful desperation.

"Do you have a new…?" He couldn't even finish the question, shrinking back into the seat like it could swallow him up. He looked at Harua.

Harua chewed on his lip for a second. He took a deep breath. "No."

"Oh." The response came automatically. Relief flooded Taki's chest.

"Not anymore," Harua said.

"…oh." Taki looked down at his hands. So there was someone. Was. Would Harua still have picked Taki up last night if he wasn't single? Playing with fire, Taki reminded himself. It didn't mean anything.

Why did it feel like it did?

Harua pulled into a parking lot, and Taki almost cried. The sign for the beach was dusted with snow, any visitors long gone months ago. Not just any beach. Their beach. Memories of a childhood spent with wet legs covered in sand came flooding back, the smell of sunscreen and plastic shovels. Dates that ended on the shore when they didn't have anywhere else to go. Taki had avoided this place since they split. But now here he was.

Why the hell had Harua taken him here?

September 2025

Harua

Do you want to come over?

Say no say no say no say no say no say no, Taki repeated over and over again in his head.

Taki

Yes

As soon as he sent it, his mind went into overdrive. All the ways this could go wrong flashed through his mind like a film montage highlighting his worst mistakes. He'd seen this movie before, and he wasn't keen on repeating it. But it was Harua. The one who knew him the most. The one who was with him through all his tragedies and triumphs. The one who broke his heart. And here he was again in Taki's life, with an offer too good to ever pass up. He was a goner.

The drive there was silent, minus the pounding in Taki's ears. When the door swung open, Harua stood there, looking the same as Taki ever knew him, yet fundamentally changed. It was like he had missed a season of the show, and the art style had been tweaked. Not completely new, just…different. Harua stepped aside.

"Come in," he said, voice smooth. Taki entered. He took off his shoes and placed them carefully next to Harua's. The movement felt like he was recalling something from a past life instead of just muscle memory. Harua said nothing. He went to the kitchen, and Taki sat down in the weathered armchair. How odd it was to feel like a stranger in a home he knew like the back of his hand. 

Harua emerged again with two glasses of water. He placed them down carefully onto the coffee table, nudging one coaster close to Taki. Taki took the drink, thanking him softly.

You could hear a pin drop as Taki took a sip, careful not to make the loud gulping sound Harua used to make fun of him for. He settled the glass back on the coaster, already regretting not having something to do with his hands.

"So…" Taki said slowly.

Harua looked at him. The look alone stopped Taki dead in his tracks. He shut his mouth closed and waited for Harua to speak instead. 

"How are you?" Harua finally asked. He took a sip himself. Taki resisted the urge to shift in his chair.

"I'm fine."

Harua stared. "Are you really?" He asked in that still unaffected voice. Taki wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Taki swallowed. He looked back at Harua with sadness in his eyes. "You…really want to know?" He tried to crack a smile, but it faltered halfway to his mouth.

Harua's mouth twitched. "Okay, new question." He looked down at Taki's hand, where Taki was absentmindedly digging a finger into the cushioned armrest. Taki froze.

"What's new with you?" Harua said, his eyes flitting back up to Taki's face.

You're bad at this Taki would have joked if things were different. If he didn't feel like he was watching the husk of something march around pretending it was still alive. Nausea squirmed in his stomach.

"Uhm…" he said, looking around like the living room might save him. His brain was yelling at him to just say something, anything. "I don't know…"

Harua looked at him with curiosity, then smiled lightly, politely. Though he'd seen it countless times, Taki wasn't used to it being used on him. It felt like another nail in the coffin.

"Well…" Harua leaned forward for a moment and Taki's heart rate picked up. Then, Harua settled back into the couch. Their couch. They had picked it out together when Harua got his own apartment two years ago. They had saved up enough money to buy something for themselves, and they knew they wanted that couch from the moment they saw it. Slightly beaten up, a little lopsided. It was perfect. Snacks had been spilled on it, secrets had been shared, and, until recently, Taki had made it a point to kiss Harua on the couch as much as possible despite Harua's protestations that it wasn't "romantic enough". Now it was Harua's. Just Harua's.

"I quit my job at the cafe," Harua said casually. "I'm going to go to school full-time."

Taki blinked. He didn't know what to say. Harua was moving through the world, changing, and for the first time, Taki wasn't there to see it. Harua paused to let Taki say something. Taki said nothing. Harua cleared his throat.

"I'm studying hospitality."

"Oh." 

"Is…that a good 'oh'?" Harua hesitated. He smiled politely again, and Taki's chest tightened.

"I mean, yeah, I guess. I just…." Taki picked at his nail again. "Things are different than before. You're different."

"You're different, too," Harua said softly. Taki could tell it was the most honest he'd been all night. It was true. Taki was different. He was heavier. He had trouble sleeping. He stared off into the distance like he was waiting for something to take him away. He was older, not just in body but in mind. Taki often wondered if this was what growing up was. A burden.

Harua knew all of this. Had known the moment he opened his door. Taki had a gnawing fear that this was exactly how Harua wanted him.

"Why am I here?" Taki asked weakly, surprised by his own voice. Harua looked surprised as well. He took another sip of water before placing it down with more force than before.

He looked up, as if he was thinking about how to respond, but Taki knew better. He had a feeling Harua had prepared all of this an hour ago. Why they were doing this dance, he didn't know.

"I want to…" Harua said, finally, "reconnect." He paused, watching Taki carefully. Taki's face contorted before he could stop it.

"Really?" He blurted. He schooled his expression back into neutrality, with little success.

"Why are you so surprised?" Harua asked, genuinely. "I missed you."

Those last three words rattled around in Taki's head. I missed you. Harua was the one who ended it. Harua was the reason they weren't talking. If he missed Taki so much, why did he leave in the first place? Taki swallowed around the lump in his throat. He wanted to cry.

"Okay…" Taki whispered.

"Taki…" Harua said slowly, "I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Oh really?" Taki interrupted, his voice rising.

"Taki, I just-"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Taki stood.

"Just listen-" Harua said quietly. He stood up as well.

"No," Taki snapped. "I'm sick of you trying to explain things to me. I want you to-"

"Taki!" Harua said, finally raising his voice to meet Taki's.

"What?!" Taki cried. The room fell silent.

Harua took a breath. Then he moved forward. A blur, until Taki's brain caught up to the fact that they were kissing. Holy shit. They were kissing.

Taki's mouth moved against Harua's before he realized it was happening, like a puzzle piece being put into its proper place. Taki placed his hand on Harua's waist. This was all Taki had thought about every night for the past four months. Getting to be connected to Harua again, feeling the warmth of his breath and the cold of his skin. Then, the best part: Harua kissing back. Kissing him like he meant it, like he could erase the past in one fell swoop. Taki clung on like a lifeline. Then Harua pulled away, and everything came crashing down.

"This doesn't mean we're…" Harua started, giving Taki a wary look.

"Huh?" Taki said, still breathing heavy. "What?"

"We're not together," Harua finished. Taki's face fell.

"What? But-"

"It's just tonight," Harua interjected.

"Oh…" Taki breathed in Harua's smell and his own sadness that was building back up around him.

"Can you let me have that?" Harua asked, eyes wide. 

Taki hesitated. He wanted to say no. To set his boundary. To stop letting Harua play mind games with him. But Harua was right here, closer than he'd been in months, and Taki was scared. Scared to lose him for good. So he said-

"Okay."

Harua smiled, relieved and sincere, and pulled him back in.

October 2025

Taki couldn’t sleep. The air still smelled like sex and desperation. The furniture in Harua's room was sparse and simple. The soft hum of the air conditioning unit filled the spaces in between.

Taki thought about lust, calculating its distance from love. He tried not to think about when Harua would inevitably cut him off as soon as he found someone new to date. The ugly thought appeared that maybe, just maybe, Harua cheating on someone else with Taki wouldn't be the worst crime. He tried to shut it down, but it lingered like the odor of something you'd rather forget.

The air conditioning shut off, leaving Taki with only his thoughts for company.

February 2026

Harua and Taki walked along the beach in silence, snow crunching beneath their feet. Taki kept sneaking glances at Harua, waiting for him to explain why they were even here in the first place. Harua looked ahead mostly, sometimes turning to look out at the water.

Taki's chest ached. It felt like visiting the graveyard of something sacred. If he squinted, he could see himself as a twelve-year-old, scooping up sand and dumping it over Harua's legs in an attempt to make Harua into a merman with an albeit misshapen tail.

It felt odd to walk beside Harua and not be holding his hand, a gesture that Taki hadn't realized had become second nature until it morphed into a part of their own little language. If Harua's face was suddenly scrunched up, Taki knew he was going to sneeze. If Taki was pulling at the bottom of his dress shirt, Harua knew to take him somewhere quieter, away from other people. If they were walking side by side, they held hands. It used to be as simple as that. Now the tower had fallen, and their world had been broken in two. Taki didn't think he was able to be fluent anymore.

"One time," Harua said, "you told me that fish actually feel pain." Taki looked at him. Harua was looking at the water again.

"I asked you how you knew that, and you said that you just felt like it was true." Harua bit the inside of his cheek. Taki didn't know how Harua even remembered any of this. Taki himself barely recalled that conversation at all.

"I said you were being too sentimental," Harua continued, "but you actually argued with me. You said that fish matter too, and that it was stupid that humans believe that we're the only ones who get to feel." Harua looked at him then, pain in his eyes. Taki's heartbeat sped up, surprised.

Then Harua looked away. "You said that maybe there are 8 billion fish who've experienced heartbreak," he said. "That maybe we need to care about them too." Taki felt that pinch under his ribs. He continued walking, picking up the pace a little more. Taki caught up.

They walked through the snow in silence, interrupted only by the squish of wet boots and the tide coming in and out. A cool winter breeze blew through their bodies, leaving a shiver in Taki's spine.

"I took my boyfriend here," Harua said suddenly. He sounded detached, but Taki knew that meant he was putting up a front. Irritation flared in Taki's chest. He didn't know why Harua still thought he needed to, after everything.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked sharply before he could stop himself. He felt like he had been dragged around all day, and he was finally getting tired of it. He wanted this misery to be over.

"I told you," Harua responded, looking at him for a beat. "I'm going to show you something." Taki must have made a face, because Harua paused. "I'm not messing with you, Taki."

Taki's mind whirled. What was all this?

"Fine," he mumbled. Satisfied, Harua broke their trajectory and started walking towards the water. Taki had no choice but to follow.

"My boyfriend was complaining about being here because it was winter," Harua said. "But I told him I wanted him to see where I grew up. He was from the city."

Taki clenched his jaw.

"Anyway, we were walking when…" Harua trailed off, suddenly focused on the snowy sand. He paced back and forth, searching for something.

"What are you looking for?" Taki asked. Harua didn't answer.

"I swear it was-" Harua muttered to himself, then inhaled when his hand collided with something beneath the snow. He pulled it up out of the ground, dusting off sand. What Taki saw made his heart drop.

A piece of driftwood. Nothing unusual: old and worn with jagged edges. But carved into the center were two initials. "T" and "H". Then the letters "2016". A memory that hadn't reappeared since that day ten years ago returned once again. They had thrown it out into the ocean, dreaming of it ending up somewhere in North America, maybe, or Africa. Antarctica if they were lucky. But it had returned, years later, sitting in the grip of an adult Harua's hand. Maybe they had known, deep inside, it always would have come back to the same beach. Taki's eyes stung.

"I saw this," Harua said. He stared at the etchings, brushing over them with his left hand.

"Oh my God," Taki whispered. He reached out to touch it, expecting it to disappear as if it were a mirage. It was solid under his hands, if flaking off a bit on his fingertips from age. He swallowed.

Harua took a breath. "I broke up with him the next day," he said, a half-whisper. Taki stared at him, eyes wide. Without a word, Harua passed the wood to Taki. Harua looked at him a beat too long, pupils shaking. Then, in one swift movement, he wrapped his arms around him. His breath came hot against Taki's ear, heavy and labored.

Taki froze. It felt like a burden had been released he didn't realize he was holding. His own breath hiccuped, then he sank into Harua's weight, dropping the piece of driftwood onto the ground. Tears were released from his eyes that he'd been holding back all day. Harua's body shook, and Taki realized he was crying as well. They stood there, arms wrapped around each other as if they had never been separated. The wind stopped, leaving them with their sniffles and shaky exhales against the drumbeat of the tide.

November 2025

Taki had expected it. He just didn't think it would come so soon.

Harua was lying next to him in bed, staring at the ceiling. He was lost in thought. Whenever he got like this, Taki didn't know how to react. When they were dating, Taki could crack a joke or kiss the frown off of Harua's face. Now the rules had changed. So Taki lay silent. Finally, Harua shifted to his side, facing him.

"Can I ask you something?" Harua asked, voice quiet. Taki nodded, his head brushing the pillowcase. His stomach sank.

"If you met someone else…" Harua hesitated. Taki tried his best not to swallow around the lump already forming in his throat.

"If you met another guy, who you think you liked…" He looked into Taki's eyes, pure curiosity. "What would you do?"

"Did-" Taki whispered, his throat closing up.

"I don't know," Harua answered anyway. "I just. I guess I…"

"Wanted to tell me?" Taki asked, but he didn't have the energy to raise his voice anymore. He just blinked away the sting.

"You know that this-"

"Was just temporary?" Taki interrupted. "Yeah. I got it." He sat up.

Harua frowned. "I just meant it was only supposed to be…" but he stopped.

"It didn't mean anything, then?"

Taki got up, grabbing his dirty clothes off the floor. Harua sat up, chewing his lip.

"I don't know…" he mumbled. That caused Taki to stop his movements. He looked at him, amazed.

"You…don't know?" Taki sighed. "Just tell me what you mean."

"I…" Harua's eyes darted back and forth. "I don't want you to think I was…leading you on."

Taki's mouth curled up. The pain was back against his eyes. "Leading me on?" He barked out a bewildered laugh.

"Yeah," he said, biting, "the sleeping together for three months definitely didn't make me think we were something serious."

Harua's face dimmed even further. "Taki…"

Taki stood, his belongings in hand. "Just say what you want to say."

Harua ran a hand through his hair. He swallowed.

"We should stop," he said finally. "It's gone on too long."

Taki should have cried. Should have screamed, fought tooth and nail. But he didn't. Just stood there and accepted it. He sighed, nodding once.

"Thanks," he said with the air of ending a business meeting.

Then he left.

February 2026

The two boys stood frozen on the sand, shivering in each other's arms. Months of silence and quiet shame spilled out from Taki's eyes. He gripped Harua tight, afraid Harua would disappear if he let go.

Then they broke apart. Taki looked at Harua's face, red and wet with tears. From deep inside his chest, something bubbled up, and he laughed for what felt like the first time in a year. Harua stood frozen, staring at him. Then a laugh came out from him as well, soft at first, then louder, fuller than the one at the cafe. His face broke into a giddy smile, and he bent at the waist, covering his mouth with his hand. Taki followed suit until he was unable to catch his breath. They laughed together as if nothing had ever been funnier. Like the world still had magic in it.

When the giggles finally died down, Harua looked back towards the little hut where they sold refreshments in the summer. There were a couple of tables and chairs out front.

"You wanna sit down?" He asked. Taki nodded. They walked over to the hut, Taki still trying to suppress any remaining giggles. Harua looked away, but not before Taki spotted a small, fond smile on his face.

They sat down across from each other. Harua didn't speak, just stared out at the ocean. The sun was finally starting to set, painting the horizon in purple and pink.

"I'm sorry," Taki said. Harua turned towards him, eyebrows raised.

"Why are you sorry?" He asked. He laughed bitterly. "I'm the one who's been making a mess of things."

Taki couldn't argue with that. "Still," he said, "these last two days haven't been easy for you, either."

"Why'd you do it?" Harua looked at him. When Taki looked back, there was a softness there he thought he'd never see again. A calm settled into his heart.

"Do what?" Taki responded.

"The fight."

Taki sighed. "I was mad."

"Mad at you," he continued. Harua tilted his head. "Mad at you for breaking up with me. Mad at you for hooking up with me when you know how I feel about you."

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't want to be casual?" Harua asked, voice gentle.

"I couldn't."

Harua frowned. "I always said you could."

"But I couldn't, because…." Taki hesitated.

He started to tap his foot, then stopped. "I thought you were cold," he admitted, wincing a bit. "I mean…you kind of are sometimes…"

"Thanks," Harua said dryly, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Taki took another deep breath. "I thought that made you better than me. Like I had to put you on a pedestal all the time."

Harua nodded slowly. "Is that why, then?"

"That, and…" Taki shifted in his chair. His chest ached in the way that only happens when you expose your heart in the open. He looked down at his shoes. "I still needed you in my life, even if it wasn't the way I wanted." He looked up, expecting to see pity on Harua's face. There was sadness there, sure, but there was also guilt. Grief for all the words that weren't said at the right time.

"You never asked me to put you on a pedestal," Taki continued. "You act like you just tolerate me, but you still let me be me, you know? You've never asked me to change, so I shouldn't expect you to be something you're not either."

Harua chewed on his lip, processing all of it. Taki could practically see the gears turning. Harua turned his gaze towards the horizon. Taki followed. Contemplative silence hung between them. Not uncomfortable, just there. Finally, Harua spoke.

"When I saw that stupid piece of driftwood, something dawned on me." He tapped on the table once, a nervous habit.

"I knew I was never going to forget you," he confessed.

The words stung and healed all at the same time.

"I realized I'm never going to have someone else like you again."

Taki sat there, completely stunned. The words hung like smoke in the air, seeping into Taki's lungs.

"I thought I needed to try someone else," Harua continued. "I wanted to see if I was missing anything. But it wasn't the same."

Harua paused for a moment. "There's a version of me that only exists when I'm around you. As long as we're away from each other, I don't see that version anymore."

"I think I want him back," he admitted finally.

The weight of that sentence wasn't lost on Taki. He took a breath in, then out. This was all he'd ever wanted. For months, he had only dreamed of having this conversation. Now that it was here, it felt…wrong.

"I'm not ready yet," Taki said quietly. Harua looked at him, surprised.

"It still feels so…raw," Taki explained. "It's not going to just heal overnight." Taki picked at his fingernail. Harua hesitated, then reached out and softly held onto Taki's hands, soothing him with delicate fingers.

"And…" Taki managed, though his heart was in his throat.

"What?" Harua asked softly.

"I thought I had you. Then it went away." Taki pulled his hands back slowly. Harua retreated. "Then I thought I had you again. But that went away, too. I don't know how to believe this time is different."

Harua looked ahead, guilt in his eyes.

"I can't promise this is going to last forever," he whispered, barely audible over the sound of water. "I just can't."

Taki swallowed.

"But I can promise I'll give it my best shot," Harua said. "I need to get over myself and just admit that…" He sighed, clenching his jaw.

"I love you," he said softly.

Taki felt the tears pushing up against his eyes again. He willed them away.

"Why is that hard to admit?" He asked instead.

Harua's brow furrowed. "It feels like a weakness," he whispered.

Taki reached out again, taking Harua's hands in his. "You're the strongest person I know," he said firmly.

At first, Taki thought Harua scoffed, but when their gazes met again, Harua's eyes were wet.

Taki took a shaky inhale. He squeezed Harua's hands. Harua smiled weakly, looking down at the ground.

"You're going to kill me, Takayama," he said with a sigh.

Taki grinned. "That's the plan."

Harua did scoff this time, a quiet, fond sound that came from the back of his throat. The air was too heavy, too full of emotions. Taki knew what to do.

"Race?" He asked. Harua looked up.

"Huh?"

Taki smiled even wider. "To the car," he announced, already standing.

"No way-" Harua started, but Taki was already turning around.

Taki took off, the snow crackling under his heels. The blinding light of the sun meeting the moon on the horizon struck his eyes, but he couldn't care less. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the sea. The chilly wind whipped at his skin, creating a pocket of air that was just him and his freedom, his tears drying on his face.

When he looked behind, Harua was running after him.