Written for my lovely friend l1nkp1t's birthday! You should absolutely check her out on Tumblr-she writes super cute MakoHaru fics!

*heavily inspired by this AU: post/146330773175/ soulmate-au-where-when-you-write-something-on-your
(don't forget to remove the spaces!)

Disclaimer: I do not own "Free!" or any affiliated characters.

Kilig: (n.) the rush or inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiences after seeing something romantic

.

The drawings begin appearing when he is five. Little stars and moons hidden between his knuckles, loopty-loops twirling between his fingers, and shaky geometric shapes on the inside of his wrists. Sometimes they even come in colors, much to his delight. Makoto loves to watch them appear on his skin, line after line creating something new and beautiful.

"You should send something back," his mother says one day after he runs to show her the newest mark. Makoto cocks his head at that, staring up at her in confusion. She smiles at him, drying her hands of the soapy dishwater, before kneeling down to take his tiny hands in hers.

"These are from your soulmate," she explains, tracing a finger over the newest drawing of a crude little turtle in a deep green. "They might like it if you wrote to them or drew a companion to this little guy."

"My soulmate…?" the boy repeats in awe, looking at the marks with new perspective. There is someone out there, creating these, drawing on their skin almost daily and maybe, maybe, hoping for a response. Green eyes widening, Makoto rushes off to find a pen so that his soulmate won't have to wait a moment longer.

He doesn't quite understand the implications of what "soulmate" entails but he knows—someday, he wants to meet the person capable of creating such lovely art.

hi my name is makoto who r u
haru
hi haruchan u r good at drawing
thanks
im xcited to meat u 1day. mama says were soulmates thats why we can writ like this
yea my nana told me
:)

*don't forget: English quiz on Thursday!
Good luck

I love this one! Your style has really evolved

Don't forget your lunch again
Aah thanks! Have a good day
You too.

Hey you haven't been drawing as much lately are you okay?

Thanks for being there for me Makoto…

I can't believe we're graduating! Maybe we're more likely to meet now
That'd be nice

The drawings became more detailed over time; now, twenty years later, Makoto's arms are so often covered in intricate artwork that he's lost count of the times people have come up and asked about where he goes to get his 'tattoos'. It gives him an odd sense of pride to see how his soulmate's talent affects others.

He takes a glance at his wrist where his own handwriting greets him from between the vines of a flower. With his arms almost never bare Makoto never bothered with writing reminder notes to himself on paper; it's much easier to add to his skin. Plus his soulmate seems to enjoy doodling borders around his notes or drawing stars next to important dates so that Makoto won't forget.

Even as Makoto waits in line for his coffee little leaves appear on some of the more bare vines, circling carefully around his handwriting so as not to obscure it. Smiling, Makoto takes the pen he always keeps in his pocket and draws a small smiley kaomoji at the end of his reminder's sentence. Immediately, a second one shows up beside it before the artist resumes working on the flower's vines.

Makoto's eyes wander over the entirety of his left arm, taking in the sleeve of art with a fond grin. The flowers at his wrist wind their way into detailed mandalas made to mimic the waves of the sea where various sea creatures can be found hidden between the designs. But the eye-catcher is one of Makoto's favorite designs Haru has done thus far; a dolphin and orca circling one another in a yin and yang fashion. It's not the first time Haru has drawn them but he does it rarely enough that it's a treat to see.

His order is called, forcing the brunet to tear his eyes away from the ever-growing art and take his coffee before aiming for a table in the corner to get started on his newest essay. He's a regular by this point so the staff usually keep his favorite spot free for him when they can, something he's eternally grateful for on days such as this. Makoto winds his way through the crowd—they're a rather popular cafe as they're located in between two of Tokyo's largest universities—and plops down in his seat with a sigh of relief.

He's pulled out his laptop and is waiting for it to boot up when he notices a dark-haired figure a few tables in front of him. He can't say what it is that immediately holds his interest about them, as they're hunched over the table and thus blocking any real view of their features, but…he can't look away. He stares, transfixed, and with bated breath, as the boy raises his head and rotates his shoulders to ease the tension from being huddled over whatever's before him. Makoto watches as he angles his head to crack his neck, showing off a profile with a strong chin, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and the bluest eyes Makoto's ever seen.

He's so focused on how beautiful a color his eyes are that he nearly misses the flash of ink as the boy reaches up his arms in a stretch—and suddenly Makoto is gasping because that might as well be his arm, with the swirling mandala ocean and an orca circling a dolphin. It's unmistakable. It's incredible. It's—

"Haru."

The name comes out in a hushed rush of air filled with awe; there's no way anyone should be able to hear it in the white noise the crowd around them provides and yet…

Those oceanic eyes are staring right into his.

Heart pounding in his chest, Makoto stares at the boy—his soulmate—for far longer than is polite but neither seem concerned in the least. Moments pass before Makoto gathers a bit of his wit back and fumbles for the pen in his pocket. He uncaps it with shaky fingers and, with a quick glance at the back of his hand, he scribbles frantically:

Found you, Haru-chan.

He snaps his gaze up again to see the boy now staring at his own hand with what looks like a smile and suddenly his hand tingles with the familiar sensation that he long-ago learned comes with the beginnings of new art. Heart now in his throat, he looks down to watch words appear in what feels like slow motion. When they're complete Makoto can't help but laugh giddily before he's on his feet and hurrying towards the chuckling artist.

Drop the -chan.

Thanks for reading! :D

Come squeal with me about OTPs at my Tumblr: sawamura-daichis-thighs

~Miah-Chan