Title: Origami Fish

Fandom: Free!

Pairings: Makoto/Haruka

Rating: T

Warnings: childhood bullying in chapter 2 and mild dark themes in chapter 4

Summary: Free! Fic

"You don't fold as often anymore," he commented. Haru shrugged, he didn't really have a need to fold with Makoto around. Haru only folded origami when he was bored. It was ironic in that way, that Makoto was the reason he didn't fold as much when it was Makoto who loved watching him fold origami the most.

In other words, a growing up fic about Makoto and Haru's relationship and how it progressed.

A/N:

Well this really blew out of control! I actually only had the first chapter and thought that I'd be done there, but then I just kept writing. I really loved writing this piece. It was a lot of fun writing about them being kids. I might have made Makoto a bit too emotional, but the chapters are all during important times, so he's allowed to cry a little.

I hope everyone enjoys it! If there are really bad spelling and grammar errors, please let me know so I can fix them! :) You can find this story on my ao3 and tumblr accounts.

Origami Fish

Chapter One: Square Paper

Tachibana Makoto is a sweet boy. Sweeter than all the kids you could ever meet. Makoto was sweet. He was also intelligent, caring, intuitive and incredibly aware. It was not all his doing, mind you. All of those wonderful traits, traits that were there, had to be nurtured and cared for so they could fully mature.

Mrs. Tachibana was a woman of unusual nature in the eyes of the public. She was a woman who did not shun her child's potential. Mrs. Tachibana talked to her son as she would any normal person, and so he easily picked up conversational skills that other kids his age were still struggling with. Had intelligent thoughts and questions, and a sense of right and wrong. The other parents had marveled at how the shy boy was so elegant in his speech. Marveled at how a six year old could hold an intelligent and engaging conversation, as if it was some rare feat.

It was not rocket science, you treat a child like they are stupid and they in turn shall act like it.

Makoto, the shy, sweet, intelligent boy, had but one problem. He had an incredibly hard time making friends his age. He shrunk away from conversation with kids his own age due to the differences in their attitudes and their speech. Makoto didn't understand why other kids would scream at the top of their lungs when they were playing. Neither did he understand why they found it fun to talk about something and repeat the same sentence again and again, as if they were not heard even if someone had already responded.

His mother had told him, upon reaching the age to start school, that he might have trouble because he was so shy. She assured him that he would be fine, and that as long as he was himself someone would become his friend. Makoto did not doubt his mother, his mother was smart. He did not doubt her, but he became wary when a week had passed and he had not made any of his classmates his friends. He had talked to nearly all of the class and although they seemed nice, Makoto found himself feeling lonely.

He did not know it, but being bright in a world like that can be an awfully lonesome road.

Makoto was ready to give up on trying to make a true friend. That was, until he saw a boy he had not noticed before making paper crafts. Makoto's tiny feet carried him over to the small blue table in the corner of the room. There sat a boy with dark hair, bent over a piece of paper he was folding. The boy stopped, sensing Makoto's presence. Guarded eyes gazed up at him underneath long bangs. Makoto's heart jumped inside his chest. He was both amazed and intimidated by the boy. Makoto fidgeted in place under the silent scrutiny.

"Hello," he said in a soft voice. The boy sat up straight and he stared at Makoto. The nervous boy felt his palms start to sweat.

"What are you making?" he asked, trying to divert attention away from himself. The boy gazed at him for a second longer before turning back to his work and ignoring him.

A minute passed in silence between the two. Makoto watched the boy closely as he folded the paper again and again, folding and unfolding, until a perfect paper fish sat in front of him. Makoto sucked in a breath, amazed by the craft.

"That's amazing!" Makoto smiled.

His smile dropped just as soon as it came when he saw the glare the silent boy was giving him. Makoto felt the beginning of tears in his eyes, he wasn't sure why. It wasn't any more frightening than talking to anyone else, but he felt like he wanted to cry when the boy looked at him like that.

"I, I'm sorry for bothering you," Makoto stammered, blinking to keep his tears at bay. "You just were doing something really interesting so I," he clamped his mouth shut. Makoto's eyes had wandered back to the other boy's and there he saw not hate, but something else. He had no clue why, but suddenly he felt much better.

"You're very good at it," he offered.

The boy stood up, causing Makoto to jump back. The boy was taller than him, and Makoto felt even smaller than he was. The boy just turned and grabbed more square sheets of paper from the shelf against the wall. They came in all colors and patterns. Makoto gazed at them in wonderment. He had never seen such beautiful paper before.

He watched the taller boy sit back down and start folding the paper with precise movements, smoothing the creases with his fingernails. Makoto watched with great interest. On one side of the paper was a beautiful star pattern, and on the other side there were strange dotted lines everywhere. Makoto felt that they looked a lot like where you were instructed to cut pieces of paper with safety scissors.

Before Makoto's eyes the once simple flat piece of paper was suddenly a fish. This fish was different, with a smaller body and bigger fins. Makoto smiled, admiring it as it was placed next to the other paper fish.

"Wow, it's so pretty." Makoto grinned, eyes squinting up into slits.

"Are you going to sit?" asked the boy. Makoto jumped, a small squeak escaping him. He turned his eyes to the boy, surprised he had spoken to him. His eyes were wide saucers looking into dark seas.

"Can I?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly. The boy stared at him longer before turning his head back to his work, choosing another piece of paper.

"Do whatever you want."

Makoto beamed, sitting down in the other plastic chair. He watched the boy fold another piece of paper, folding, flipping, unfolding. The hand on the paper suddenly stilled and Makoto glanced up at its owner. The quiet boy was staring at him again, and this time Makoto felt a little embarrassed. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink under their pressure.

"Are you just going to watch?"

Makoto's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He pursed his tiny lips and fiddled with his hands.

"Is that bad?"

The boy's eyebrows scrunched down slightly. He looked confused, Makoto thought.

"No," the boy said, watching him attentively. "Why don't you fold one?"

Makoto blinked, feeling a bit ashamed all of a sudden.

"I don't know how," he confessed.

The other boy made a sharp noise with his tongue and went back to folding. Makoto didn't say a word after, content with watching the amazing boy fold beautiful things. More time passed like that before the teachers called everyone back from playtime.

That day Makoto had gone home to tell his mom of the amazing boy who could fold paper into fish. She laughed and explained to her son that it was called origami, and what exactly that meant. Makoto was surprised when his mother explained how the boy must have been learning since he was very young, to be able to make as beautiful pieces as Makoto had described. Makoto smiled brightly thinking about the boy and the beautiful fish.

The very next day Makoto found himself sitting next to the quiet boy during playtime. He continued folding, the same three types of fish repeating itself again and again in fantastic colors. They sat in silence, but Makoto did not feel awkward at all. He wanted to talk to the boy, but he didn't want to distract him or be told that he had to leave the table.

The week passed in much the same way. Makoto learned one new thing about the boy, and that was that his grandmother picked him up from school every day. They walked slower than Makoto and his mother, and so he never got to see which direction the boy went after leaving school. Makoto wanted to tell his mom that he was the boy, but then she'd go to introduce herself, and that would probably bother him. He didn't want to bother the boy.

That weekend was filled with failed attempts at origami. His mother had bought him a kit with different aquatic animals on it. Makoto learned that the cutting lines were in fact not cutting lines, but folding lines. He also learned that he had no skills with folding paper or understanding the instructions his mother gave him. He couldn't read the book and he couldn't fold. He gave up and told his mom that it was okay, he didn't really want to learn that much anyways. This, of course, was a lie. Makoto very much wanted to bring the boy an origami he had folded.

Makoto asked if he could give the book to his friend. He wasn't sure he could call the boy who allowed him to sit and watch him fold paper a friend, but Makoto liked him enough to call him that. His mother smiled and told him that it was his book, so he could do with it what he wanted, but he shouldn't expect anything back in return. Makoto grinned saying that he just wanted to see his friend fold other pretty things. His mother smiled, and allowed him to take the book to school that Monday.

Monday's sun was bright, and the ocean smelled good. Makoto felt light, like the whole world was as cheerful and excited as he was, though it was still only early. Makoto saw the grandmother walking back from the school, meaning the boy was already inside. He smiled at the elderly woman, and bowed. The woman smiled back and bowed her head a little, chuckling as she left. His mother seemed to be wondering about it, but he ran off into the building full speed. He took of his shoes and put on his indoor slippers, hanging up his backpack.

He was bursting with energy, squirming in his seat as the day went on. His eyes kept glancing at the clock, waiting for its hands to reach playtime. The day dragged on, and Makoto felt like he'd die from excitement until finally the teachers told them it was playtime.

His feet carried him back to the cubbies in a brisk pace, grabbing the book out of his backpack before he skittered back to the table in the corner of the room. There sat the boy, already folding. Makoto plopped down in the seat next to him, and the boy's eyes widened. He seemed to have been startled by him. Makoto wondered if it was because he was so jumpy.

As soon as the boy looked at him Makoto felt his mouth seal up. What if the boy thought it was troublesome? What if he didn't want it? Makoto thought. He placed the book down on the table and slid it over to the other boy, who looked at it curiously.

"It's for you," he said. Makoto's cheeks started to color. He was so nervous and embarrassed.

"I'm not good at it, but maybe you could do it. They have fish and whales," he continued, feeling his own mouth running on and on. Shame welled up inside him; the boy was going to think he was stupid.

"I can't read it," the boy answered after flipping through a few pages. Makoto stared at the boy in shock, he hadn't thought about that.

"Oh," Makoto answered, mouth falling into a frown.

"But!" Makoto started again. "You could ask someone to read it to you. That's what I did. It still didn't work, but you could do it."

"I'd have to take it home," the boy explained, blank stare pointed at Makoto. Makoto smiled back, feeling a little better.

"That's fine, you can have it! It's for you," he repeated. The boy's eyes widened just a bit, and Makoto knew he was surprised. It made his little heart beat louder, he was so happy. The boy wasn't mad, he was just surprised.

They sat in silence as the boy slowly turned his attention back to the book. He flipped through the rest of the pages, looking at the different origami animals. Makoto thought it looked like he was smiling, but the boy's mouth didn't move from its flat line. The boy turned back to Makoto and his eyes flickered to the side.

"Thank you," he said in a quiet voice. Makoto felt so warm and so fuzzy inside he could barely believe it.

"You're welcome," he chirped. The boy looked back down at the book.

"Haru," he voiced out in a firm tone. Makoto blinked a couple of times. His head tilted to the side, trying to make sense of it.

"Huh?"

"Haru, it's my name," the boy informed him. Makoto was shocked, his mouth turned into a small o. He sat up straight and smiled.

"My name's Makoto."

The boy only nodded before turning back to his folding. Makoto's whole body was warm as he thought about it. This was Haru, and he liked the book he gave him.