Self-Control - 14 (Part 2)

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It was difficult to identify all the emotions tangling in Haru's gut. Although he had anticipated the reunion between his mom and Y/n, he hadn't predicted how nervous it would make him. For even his own mom had commented, had observed that Y/n was "troubled," and used that as her reason to not adopt him. Undoubtedly there were other, less significant reasons. A kid was a lot of work, time, and money. But that reason alone had stuck itself inside Haru's head; haunted the grief in his heart when Y/n began avoiding him. All he wanted to do, when he was eight years old, was grab Y/n and tell him, "There's nothing wrong with you," because everyone else kept saying there was. And it wasn't fair.

It still isn't. Different doesn't automatically mean wrong.

His mom was in the kitchen, her back to them when they entered. There were several grocery bags on the counter already. Her hand was rifling through them, peeking at the contents as if to ensure everything was there and in order. She turned around immediately though when Haru called out a greeting. She smiled at him — the expression faltered out of surprise when she caught sight of Y/n behind him, and Haru tensed. He had the urge to reach behind himself and grab Y/n's hand. Something meaningful; something reassuring, in case his mom... sent him away again. It was an irrational fear, Haru knew, but he couldn't help the sudden anxiety.

There was a visible double-take, as if his mom had immediately recognized Y/n, and then doubted herself before deciding, "no, no it really is him." A knit in her brow formed, her hand limply fell from the grocery bags, causing the paper to crinkle abnormally loud.

Yet, all his mom did after was let out a tiny doubtful laugh and say, quite affectionately, "Y/n." Just the (h/c) boy's name, her slack face a dead giveaway to the level of her shock. Haru couldn't hold that against her.

There were a lot of years between the last time they had seen each other and now. There had been other friends Haru had eventually grown close to; friends his mom slowly became accustomed to. But Y/n would always be a special case. The momentary lapse of normal conversation only highlighted this truth. For a few seconds, there was only the clock in the hallway, softly ticking.

"...Hi, Mrs. Ahane," Y/n said, shyly staring at the ground.

Haru huffed a small laugh. Leave it to Y/n to be the only one left unfazed. Left... unchanged. Even timid, Y/n had always been polite to his mom.

Which, she also smiled before she stepped forward, "I have more groceries in the car, would you mind getting them for me?" her warm gaze was directed at the (h/c) boy.

"Mom," Haru instantly sputtered out, "he's a guest —" I can get them.

She shushed her son before he could finish, waving Y/n on. The (h/c) boy didn't say a word, leaving the kitchen and presumably obeying her request. Haru and his mom were silent until they heard the front door shut behind their "guest."

"You know, Haru," there was a familiar scolding pitch to his mom's voice, "I am more than fine with you having friends over, but I would like you to tell me in advance — with that friend especially," she told him pointedly. "I haven't seen that kid in years. It was a bit of a shock to find him here."

There was a stern look in her eyes, but Haru didn't feel like it was inherent disapproval for Y/n or the boy's presence and some of the unnoticed tension in his shoulders eased.

"Then again," she rambled on, gaze turning a bit distant, "he's not much of a kid anymore."

That, certainly, was true. Haru was a little embarrassed he had been tempted to — well, he wouldn't think about it now with his mom right there. But a kid? No, neither of them were that anymore.

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