literature

alone, not lonely [Haru/Reader]

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Literature Text

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

"You're the one who rang my doorbell, you answer first."

"You're the one standing in my friend's apartment. Tell me who you are and go away."

Folding your arms, you glare at the boy in front of you, saying, "You must have the wrong apartment because this one is mine and before me it was an old man's. Unless your friend was Mr. Takada you're mistaken."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

He's about to open his mouth again when another guy steps into view, clapping his hand down on the stubborn one's shoulder.  He smiles abashedly, running his fingers through blonde hair.

"Sorry about this, [y/n]. Haru seems to be bothering you..." Ah, so he's Makoto's friend.  You like Makoto.  You wipe off your scowl and wave off his apology.

"It's no problem, Mako-chan. I was just digging around some of my boxes so it's not like I was busy."

"You moved in four days ago and still haven't started unpacking?"

"Well, I unpacked, like, my toothbrush..." You look away a moment before letting out a short laugh and smiling back up at Makoto.  Haru looks between the two of you, seeming to be deciding whether or not to ask why you know each other, before eventually coming to the conclusion that the phrase, "You're the one from Lit II that he talks about," will suffice.

"And you're the best friend who's going to be a famous swimmer, I presume." Begrudgingly, you stick out your hand. "Nice to meet you, Nanase Haruka." He grips your hand lightly, shaking quick only to nod and mumble, "You too."

Makoto rolls his eyes and cuts in, "I guess we'd better not waste any more of your time.  See you in class, [y/n]."

"Yeah... See you, Makoto." As you close the door, you can hear the blonde boy exclaim, "I've told you a thousand times Haru, I'm in 42C, not 43!"  Laughing lightly, you let the door click shut before returning to your bare apartment.  Unpacking can wait a little longer.

* * * *

Pizza.  You were expecting pizza, not an obnoxious boy.  Those two things don’t happen to be interchangeable at all.  Annoyed, you grumble nearly incoherently, “You’re not pizza.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes, “And you’re not Makoto.”

“No, I’m not, so what do you want, Haruka?”

“You and Makoto to switch apartments so I can remember the damn number.”

You’re prepared to keep at it with the pretty boy, but alas, over his broad shoulder you notice a pizza girl meekly watching this scene.  Pushing past Haru, you exclaim, “My love, you have arrived!”

“Th-that’ll be $12.50.”

Gripping your chest, you moan, “Ah, but so cold you are.”

“U-um…”    

Pitying the girl, you drop your act and dig the money out of your wallet.  “Sorry, I get a bit carried away in my hunger.  Good night!”  When you turn back to your apartment door, pizza box in hand, you half-expect Haru to still be there, waiting to finish duking it out with you.  Instead, you see Makoto’s apartment door slamming shut; oh well, you suppose that it's good you won’t have to do the polite thing and offer to share your dinner.  Now you just need to find the plates…

* * * *

It’s another week before you get a knock again.  This time, it’s your classmate.  Smiling, he holds up a plate of cookies, explaining, “Mom sent a few too many in a care package.  Want to share?”

“Boy, would I ever!  Come on in, I’ll put on tea.”  The boy comes in and sits down on your couch, waiting patiently for you to brew the tea; once it’s done, you sit down too, perching on the edge of the couch.  

“I have a feeling you’re not just here to give me cookies and drink my tea.  Do you need notes?  Or sugar?  You can never go wrong with the classics, but I’m assuming no to both.  Out with it, Mako-chan.”

“It’s actually about Haru.”

“Ah, so you have a best friend complex, got it.”

“Not quite. He knows what he's doing, you know. He may seem clueless, but don't let it fool you."

Smiling softly, you look down into your cup of tea and nod. "I know."  Satisfied, Makoto drinks his tea and stands.  

“I’ve got to get back.  Just don’t be too harsh, [y/n].  Even if he does amuse you… just don’t hurt him.”

Right before he closes the door behind him, you call out, “I won’t.  I promise, Makoto.”

* * * *

The transition from a comfortably cool fall to bitter winter air is abrupt, and the next time the doorbell rings, you simply fling open the door and pull the waiting boy inside.

“What’re you doing?”

"Haru, my soul may seem barren and cold, but I like to think that I’m more of a sunshine and warm breezes type of person.  I’m not going to be letting out my warm air to argue with you over whose apartment is which in this weather.”

“I came to help you unpack.”

"What?”

He looks around pointedly.  “Your stuff.  It’s still all in boxes.  You’re too lazy, so I’ll help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help though, Mr. H2O.  Why’re you offering?”

“You needed me to.”  Not wanting to push your luck, you shrug.  You won’t turn down free services.  So, for three hours, you’re stuck organizing your kitchen and bedroom with Haruka Nanase, swimmer extraordinaire and professional at all things water.  It’s when you’re done, and you’ve served him warm tea and mini muffins, that you really talk though.  He tells you about swimming, and you tell him about being a writer, and you both empathize (as much as both of your un-empathetic selves can) until you’re all out of college stories and he’s all out of swimming stories.  

And, finally, fed up with his make-believe air-headedness, you ask, “You're a smart boy, Haru, so why do you act so dumb?"

He doesn't answer for a moment, furrowing his brow - in annoyance or deep thought you can't tell, until he says slowly, "I don't want people to expect so much from me."

“I expect nothing from you, Haru.  Just be who you are.  Hasn’t anyone ever told you that no one likes a fake ditzy chick?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”  His silence freezes you again, until he blurts, “I think I like you.”  You want to cringe.  You knew this would happen, just… you didn’t want it to.

“Haru, I like you too, only…”

He sighs.  “Not like that.”

You continue, “You have to understand, Haru, it’s really not you.  I’m aromantic, okay?  I don’t like anyone how you wish I would…”  

“I get it,” he mutters, standing up.  “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

You promised Makoto you wouldn’t hurt him, but after you let him walk out of your apartment the knocks on your door don’t come again.
Pixelled Copyright by Sophibelle

for some reason there are like, 0 stories for aromantic readers so here you go, you beauties <3 (sorry it's not a happy ending, though! maybe next time...)

Haru © Free!
© 2015 - 2024 32bees
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Follower-Of-Fate's avatar
Aw, poor Haru. That sad ending came out of nowhere. Good story though!