My Color (A MakoHaru Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eight

Makoto couldn't understand. He was feeling love for Haru, yes. But how would he even tell him?

'Hey, Haru. I know we don't hang out anymore because I said I didn't like you, but I do like you, actually,'?

That would be so dumb. Not to mention, rude. Makoto couldn't break Haru's heart and then come back, expecting him to give him a second chance. Haru hated giving second chances, Makoto knew.

It was all so confusing, now. Makoto had no idea what to say or think. He couldn't put his feelings into words. It was the first time a phenomenon like this ever happened, and he hated it.

Ren and Ran would come in his room, demanding they tell him what was wrong, but he would smile and tell them he was perfectly fine.

But he was broken. And all he knew was that he was alone now. Nagisa and Rei would constantly be at Haru's house. And, obviously, Haru would not want to be in Makoto's presence after what happened the last time they saw each other.

But Makoto wanted to be around Haru. Haru was his best friend, and now he was gone. Makoto wouldn't even care if the ground swallowed him up, if he was honest now. That would be the best option. He had no one. He had put so much care into Haru getting better, and now, he was going insane. Haru was gone, Makoto had no purpose in life. Heck, he didn't even know what he was going to do with his life.

He just wanted to talk to Haru.

And he wanted to apologize for all of his mistakes that caused him to put Haru down. Haru was cut out of his life unintentionally, like he just vanished the very minute Makoto left. Makoto shouldn't have left. Makoto should've stayed. But it was too late now. Haru hadn't answered Makoto's texts, and eventually, he just stopped caring.

It was awful, how people could just disappear from the life of the one who needed them most. But Haru must've not cared anymore. Because he was going out with Rin now, and there was nothing he could do about it.

So as Makoto walked past Rin and Haru sharing a hug, his eyes met Haru's, and his world stopped. His heart may have skipped a beat, even, to see Haru with another. Perhaps it even leaped a few beats, that's how shocked Makoto was. But he kept walking, walking until his legs ached and his lungs burned, walking to the ocean.

And when he got to the ocean, his heart hurt from all of the memories. He remembered that one evening, when he and Haru sat at the ocean, and Makoto admired Haru's peaceful, Pacific blue eyes. He couldn't do that anymore. He couldn't admire his best friend, now love interest. Because he had let him get away. Makoto let Haru fall through his fingers and wash away with the water he used to be terrified of. The dark, murky water.

Memories flooded his mind and wracked his brain. Makoto remembered why he knew he loved Haru. He remembered how much it hurt when he knew what was wrong with Haru, and how terrible of a friend he was when he called him brother. Makoto didn't want to call Haru brother. He wanted to call him love. He wanted to call him his color, for all of his was gone now, just like Haru. Haru and him, him and Haru. They had both lost their color and it wouldn't be back until Makoto made everything right. Makoto had been the cause of Haru's color to drain away.

Makoto hated himself.

Makoto vowed to never be selfish, but here he was, jealous of Rin, and stealing Haru's color. Maybe Haru had color now. Maybe Rin was Haru's color now, and Makoto was useless.

But it hurt.

Haru was throwing him away because Makoto had been too ignorant. It was his fault he was useless, and it was his fault he couldn't bring a smile to Haru's face now. Everything was his fault.

Haru had nothing to take the blame for but love Makoto.

And Makoto had everything that went wrong in his life to take the blame for.

He didn't want to give up, but there was no choice. The only thing that mattered was gone.

So there Haru and Makoto were, two tortured souls living in insanity.

But they weren't living.

They were existing.

Because there was a difference between living and existing.

Neither of them were going new places, or trying new things.

Both of them were merely waiting, watching the days pass by in a blur.

Oblivion would soon near if they kept existing like this. Oblivion would have its mercy on the precious souls that were being trapped. Because death is the best mercy when you want to die.

It was quite clear now that these souls wanted to die.

Love was playing games with them, tearing them apart.

Love was taking its toll.

Love made them want to die.

Oblivion and love work hand in hand, really.

They are nearly the same thing, if one thinks about it.

Both destroy lives. Both bring pain. But, in the end, both conclude in joy.

The only difference is, in one case, the one experiencing it lives, and in the other, they die.

The two souls couldn't tell which was which.

Because this love was surely killing them.

And this oblivion would surely make them feel alive.