Oh boy, I'm so glad we have a Tsuritama category on ffnet finally. All of my stuff has been on tumblr as of late, so I'll be posting all my little fics and drabbles and my one chapter fic onto here today. Enjoy? :)

.from far away

/

Haru is something else.

Haru is something electric and wild, like a swift shock to the bones, or like some dizzy tempest of sound and action and emotion; he's like a tidal wave all his own, ready and willing to sweep you under for one terrifying moment until letting you rise to the surface again, gasping for breath and wondering if perhaps you died for a single blink in time only to be resurrected within the same moment. He's loud and obnoxious and far too charged for you to keep up with – he's annoying, so annoying, and he rings out like a siren with a single call of your name, skipping and twirling and touching your arm like something clingy and clueless.

You've gotten into the habit of holding your breath when he sits beside you and nuzzles up to your shoulder, because his scent is strange and soft and a little too nice for you to let yourself breathe in – he's all sea salt and taffy and some nameless, pretty flower that you doubt has ever actually blossomed on earth (much like Haru himself, if you're to trust the whole "alien" thing). His hair is too soft; it shines like gossamer in the sunlight, and never sits a strand out of place, unlike your ragged mop of red that juts out this way and that and looks awful when you first wake up. Oh, but Haru, Haru never looks out of place, despite his eccentric clothes and violet eyes and affinity for dancing before the class like a moron and dragging you into it when you least expect it. People like Haru.

People don't like you.

Which is why you don't get it when Haru looks at you, sparkling and radiant and goofy, and says your name as if it's a nursery rhyme, drawing out the second syllable on a fluttery singsong. When he's happy, he belts it out, but when he's annoyed, he changes the pitch on a sour whine and pouts like a child. He's in constant need of attention, and you're constantly running away from it. A fleeting, cold glance out the corner of Natsuki's eye is enough to send your stomach skittering and your hands sweating, and yet Haru can saunter right on up to you and seat himself in your lap, playing with your hair and asking you to tell him a story to keep him entertained.

You went from no one liking you, to this bright-eyed, loudmouthed kid liking you too much.

There are moments, though, when it's not so bad. He's still bothersome, yeah, and he still doesn't seem to grasp the concept of talking quietly, of existing quietly, but it's not always such a grating thing – like right now, with him snoozing lightly on the couch and curled up like a pale kitten. Like this, he's not so bad. Sometimes his nose scrunches up as if he's dreaming of something debatable, and he'll reach up with a weak hand to rub at his cheek with a little mewl before going motionless again. It's in those brief moments that you think he's a hell of a lot more human than he is at any other time, because god knows he's too much to keep track of when he's awake; but when he's asleep, he shrinks down to a perfect little knot of space, falling still and silent and finally, finally calm.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watch him with pensive eyes and wonder exactly what you've gotten yourself into. It can't be anything good.

But, well, it hasn't been anything bad, not yet, so maybe you'll let him stick around. Just for a little while.