Chapter Text
Makoto doesn’t dream that often anymore, too sleep-deprived to do anything but succumb to black nothingness for a few hours before waking. Maybe he does dream and he just forgets. But this time he does dream and this time he remembers.
It’s more memory than dream because aren’t dreams supposed to be nice, warm fluffy things? One of the most emotionally devastating days of his life plays out the way it always does, it’s an unseasonal thunderstorm, and Makoto wonders if he’s manifested it with his deep turmoil. It doesn’t help that Aki’s– Akihiko’s voice is so sweet and calm and his presence is so warm and kind. It makes it worse. It’s so much worse that he isn’t being cruel and this is mutual and mature and understanding and something he’s been preparing for but when it’s right in his face and being made real, Makoto wishes that Akihiko did something reprehensible instead. If there’s anger to replace the love, to fill the hole being gouged in his heart by the comfortable weight of hands he knows better than his soul, maybe he could live if there’s hate.
They’re going so far apart, that’s the reasoning. Makoto is staying here for another year and Akihiko is crossing the sea, his naval service long decided on before their paths ever crossed in a meaningful manner. They hadn’t discussed it until his graduation day was breathing down their necks and being so mature and smart they agreed that maybe it would be best for them both to set the other free to grow in their opposite directions. Oh, Makoto has such a bright future in music ahead of him. Doesn’t he want to audition for that arts university in his last year still? He’s so talented and if he’s as great as Akihiko thinks he is, he’ll be bound for Frankfurt for the next four years. Makoto can’t hold himself back to wait in Japan for him. That’s how Akihiko frames it because he’s so mature and calm and reasonable and logical about this. Makoto knows it's true; he’ll just hold both of them back if he doesn’t accept reality but it hurts so much.
But he doesn’t cry. The sky does it for him. He just stares forward and shakes his head when Akihiko leans to kiss his cheek for the last time. His hands bleed and all he wants to do is dig his heels in to deny the inevitable but when their hands separate and Akihiko shuts the door behind him, he lets go, torn palms and all.
“We’ll keep in touch, okay?” But Makoto doesn’t. It’s easy because Akihiko can’t call anyone during the first few months and the letters that do come for him he tosses without looking. It’s easy because Kotone does everything she can to make him happy with every distraction known to man. She thankfully doesn’t try to set him up with anyone and holds him while he bawls his eyes out just as she did when they were young and all he had in the world was her. She and Yukari encourage him to practice and he does until his hands bleed again and this time he refuses to let go. They don’t mention him or show the letters Kotone’s saved from the trash until Makoto’s about to leave for Germany and says maybe he should read them one day.
‘ I tried calling again but I think he blocked me. Can you tell him that I hope he’s okay, Shiomi? ’
‘ dont think thats a good idea. He did really well today. I think hes gonna get the scholarship in germany. If he blocked u its for a reason Sanada-san. Im sorry. ’
‘ It’s fine .’
Maybe he was needlessly cruel, he thinks when he looks back on it. Akihiko had to be hurting too. He must have wanted to stay together forever like the naive kids they were, too. It had to be miserable for him, too. So much loss in one year and a great self-inflicted wound cut by plans laid years in advance; a future right between his fingers and a life that hadn’t accounted for Makoto until far too late. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except their own for being delusional that this would be able to fit seamlessly in a future they thought they wouldn’t even see for the longest. Maybe that’s why their goals were so lofty, maybe that’s why they ended up so far apart.
‘ I love you. I wish things were different; you know that, right? ’
[this message could not be delivered]
By the time Makoto is over it and back in Japan awaiting the start of his master's program, Akihiko’s number redirects to some middle-aged woman who seems flattered by the long apology text that pours into her inbox without warning. He gives her a hefty apology just for her and she forgives him easily, wishing him luck in finding this “Aki” person. Maybe it is a sign, he thinks. His inhumanity can’t go unpunished and he doesn’t know in what world made him think that time…just…time didn’t wait for him and the Akihiko in the letters shouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life stopped until Makoto maybe forgave him. Shit sucks but he can’t blame anyone but himself.
When he looks back on it for the umpteenth time, he realizes that he's the one in the wrong by manufacturing the hard feelings he wished existed at the start. He poses the question to Yukari and she draws an exasperated sigh out, answering the question without saying a single word.
She does say a lot of words though. They all hurt.
He thinks about maybe asking Kotone if she’s kept in touch with him over the years. Is that too pathetic? He knows she does because he's witnessed her life through carefully cropped group pictures that always seem to exclude someone in a red shirt. Sometimes, there are girls he doesn't know and they change every few months – the longest lasting a year and a half but she disappears six months before Makoto returns. When he inquires about who that is, all Kotone says is that they're work friends. He doesn't buy it at all because he's met her work friends before and none of them match up. He wants to interrogate her on a lot of things but he doesn’t get the chance to before they’re invited to a welcome home/reunion/Yukari’s karaoke birthday party attended by his former fellow SEES.
He's not there at first and Makoto is grossly disappointed deep within himself for being sad that maybe Akihiko won't come. But then he's drunk and his friends are catching him up on their lives and he's bathing in the warmth of their success and happiness and then Akihiko fades away to a dull ache between his ribs like he always does.
Makoto is halfway through another glass of beer at a breakneck pace that can only be learned in the Deutschland when his ex makes his grand entrance, apologizing for his tardiness with some story about a case that just popped up and he's still a fresh face so everything gets dumped on him but he's brought –
Oh.
Oh.
‘Hey aki. mako will wanna know your new number when he gets back im pretty sure, should i give it to him?’
‘No.’
‘kayyyyyyyyy’
Everyone goes painfully silent as Akihiko and Makoto gaze at each other for the first time in…four? five? years. He wasn't scrawny by any means during their time together but he's filled out flawlessly, muscle rippling right underneath his clothes, river stone eyes brilliant and sparkling despite being wide with panic, sorrow and so many other emotions that makes Makoto want to ball up away from their intensity. The way he looks at him, the way his gaze flutters across his body has Makoto swallowing thickly. Akihiko isn't the only one who's changed and it's obvious that he appreciates the way Makoto looks now with longer hair and a lean body. Why are they surprised? It's just like before where they knew it was coming yet for the second time they're hit by a bullet train of emotion.
Embarrassed to be caught staring, Akihiko shoots his eyes to the ground, his face hard and unreadable. He always does this when he's trying to shut people out and it eats that it's aimed at him.
Ah…
“It's nice to see you again, Yuki-san.” His voice is deep and smooth.
Ah. The honorifics stab into his chest and tear him apart. Despite the haze of liquor, he's perfectly sober now and his mouth is full of sand, fingers glazing his glass in an attempt for something to do. Akihiko takes care to sit far away from him by squeezing between Ken and Aigis and ignoring their protests as he accidentally knocks into a glass. The gift is for Yukari, a pretty bottle of sake that matches the color of her eyes and everyone ooh’s and ahh’s to break the awkward tension.
The way so much about him is different, just as much about him hasn't changed. His hands are still perpetually covered with gloves years later, the way his nose crinkles when he laughs is the same, he still struggles with sarcasm oh so genuine and trusting. He's still awful at karaoke and pointedly avoids singing with Makoto which is just fucking mean.
God, what right does he have?
Makoto wonders if Akihiko will ever forgive him but maybe the damage is too great, the foundation of their friendship irreversibly cracked beyond belief entirely by his own actions. Was he the cruelty Akihiko needed to move on? The pain that Makoto had wanted all those years ago? He thinks about those “work friends” and the answer as to their identities is obvious and has been from the start; they're too old for Ken, Mitsuru is too busy to date, Fuuka prefers men, Yukari and Kotone have something going on with each other, Junpei met some American redhead a year ago so the timeline doesn't match up and Aigis is…Aigis.
What did he expect from Akihiko? It's not like Makoto stopped but all of his limited partners hadn't gone beyond casual sex or a few dates because the only people he knows that well are people who he really doesn't want to fuck around with. He's witnessed the horror stories of whatever the fuck was going on with the brass section in his second year and how the seating chart had to be rearranged for everyone's sanity. There had been a moment of weakness with a very attractive fourth-year oboe that he managed to put the brakes on before he did something irreversible to strings and woodwinds.
Downing his beer, he wonders which of them has had more partners since. If he allows himself to count – even though he really doesn't want to and he really shouldn't because what does it do besides hurt his feelings – it's probably Akihiko. And like clockwork something horrible and ugly pushes against his stomach. Hurl or order another drink, which shall be his salvation?
He's really fucking drunk now. Makoto sits in the corner and grumpily pours over their faces, noting the similarities between them. One has soft round cheeks, another mirrors his blue-grey eyes and sharp chin, short, straight hair on the one that lasted the longest…he’s absolutely fucking delusional and he’ll brood in shame while he nurses his hangover tomorrow but for tonight, there’s two stupid bitches in his head saying, “EXACTLYYYYY” and he’s both of them. Kotone is attempting to get him to stop by hovering his glass over her head – she’s fucking tall the bitch – but he’s whiny and sad and jealous now so he can’t be deterred. Actually. No, he’s fucking pissed. She talks to Akihiko all the time. They all do. They had to have known that he changed his number and no one thought to give it to him, tell him anything about him at all. Even more than that, they’re in a group chat together that notably excludes Akihiko but that doesn’t make sense. Kotone and him live in the same prefecture, hell the same few blocks of Tokyo, unlike the others.
Makoto shouldn’t but he’s beyond shouldn’t at this point, unlocking her phone and scrolling through her photos when she’s in the bathroom. Just like he thought, there are countless pictures of his fucking twin sister and his ex-boyfriend on adventures around the city. They span back years. Kotone had been at Akihiko’s graduation from the police academy, Akihiko had been the “camera shy work friend” that Kotone went to Shanghai with two years ago for the birthday Makoto had to miss, Kotone had met his parents, Akihiko had thrown her a graduation party dated two days after Makoto returned to Frankfurt. Christmases that Makoto couldn’t take off. New Year's shrine visits. Cat cafes. Really fucking buddy buddy. In the flurry of betrayal, Makoto throws her privacy out of the window and goes into her texts and there it is, two group chats and Akihiko pinned to the top of her messages along with Makoto and Yukari.
“Aki didn’t want to see you either and honestly dude, you should be happy that’s all he said. You were kind of a bitch to him for years.” Is this real life? She’s really trying to defend herself right now? He’s her twin brother and she’s been bullshitting him for years, saying that she only sees Akihiko at the rare group gatherings when the reality is that they’re the best of friends?
Her defense continues: “Come on, Mako, what did you want me to do? You said yourself that he hasn’t done anything wrong and that your feelings were just hurt by the situation. Yeah, you said ‘sorry’ two years ago but he didn’t forgive you and you have to live with that.” Kotone turns her head to make sure no one has snuck up on their hushed but heated conversation in the bathroom hallway. Luckily half of them have already headed back but there’s the other half to contend with. Her head pounds but this really is her fault; how do you bring up the fact that you’re best friends with your brother’s ex-boyfriend completely by accident? It hadn’t been intentional but she ended up in the Tokyo office of her work and Akihiko always had a hard time being by himself. Yes, she had been mad with him at first but as the years passed and after witnessing him cry more than a few times, all that was left was a deep understanding of the fact that this was just as miserable for him – if not more because Makoto had completely shut Akihiko out at every turn. He hadn’t had a choice in losing someone he thought would at least be his friend when the dust cleared.
Everyone else scattered far and it’s hard for former child soldiers to relate to normal people. It's nice to talk to someone who gets why she gets jumpy during the full moon. It’s nice to have a guy friend who doesn’t want anything out of her. It’s nice to have a sparring partner who she’s not afraid of breaking. Their friendship hadn’t stayed simply because they had proximity but because they genuinely liked each other. She feels bad about hiding it from Makoto but sometimes he’s a self-centered asshole who feels like the world revolves around his feelings and his alone. Maybe it's her fault for spoiling him so much as kids. He looks like he’s about to stomp his foot and cry, cheeks puffed out and eyes red. They’re twenty-four for fuck’s sake but he looks just as sixteen he was when his feelings were hurt.
His eyes are narrowed into dangerous slits, jaw clenched. “ Aki ?” He practically spits at her. Ok, great, he didn’t hear a single word she said after that. This is a poor conversation to have drunk and she’s about to suggest they just save it for later when he shoves past her and marches unsteadily three steps away before falling face-first on the carpet. Kotone considers her options.
She just leaves him there.