"Harua fell first, but Maki fell harder."
A quiet love. A slow burn. One boy noticing too soon, and the other realizing all at once.

Pairing: Harua × Maki
Trope: Harua fell first. Maki fell harder.

*****
"Also, I'm pretty sure your eyes are my favorite color now."
*****

It started with small things.

Harua didn't really know when it happened—only that it snuck up on him. Like soft music in the background, gradually growing louder until it filled his entire head.

Maki laughed, and it made his chest ache in a good way.
Maki tripped over nothing, and Harua had to bite back a smile.
Maki fell asleep on the couch, and Harua quietly covered him with a blanket, lingering just a little too long before pulling away.

Yeah.
Harua fell first.

And he did it quietly. Carefully.
Like his feelings were fragile things that might break if he said them out loud.

He never said them.

But he noticed.
And he loved, in silence.

Maki, on the other hand, was clueless.

At first.

Harua was just... Harua.
Calm. Observant. Cool in a way that Maki could never be, and warm in the ways that mattered.

He didn't notice that Harua always sat next to him.
Didn't think too much when Harua handed him the exact snack he was craving without asking.
Or that Harua stayed up a little longer than usual when Maki couldn't sleep.

Harua was just a good friend. A good roommate.

Right?

Then came the night Maki forgot his umbrella.

He stood outside the dorm building, half-soaked and half-miserable, wondering if he should make a run for it—when a hand appeared beside him, holding an umbrella.

Harua.

"Figured you'd forget."

Maki blinked. "How did you—?"

"You always do."

There was no teasing in his voice. Just soft certainty. Like Maki being forgetful was something... expected. Known. Cared for.

They walked back together under one umbrella, shoulders almost touching, rain tapping gently above them.

And something shifted.

Later that night, Maki couldn't sleep.
Not because of the storm outside—
But because of the calm he felt next to Harua.

The way Harua carried silence like safety.
The way he remembered small things.
The way his hand brushed Maki's arm for a split second and made the world stutter.

From that moment, Maki started noticing everything.
And once he did—he couldn't stop.

The way Harua's eyes softened when Maki talked about dumb things.
The way he offered water when Maki rambled too long.
The way he always remembered, always stayed, always stayed close.

And it hit Maki like a truck:

Harua had fallen first.
And now...
Maki was falling faster than gravity could catch.

It wasn't graceful.
It was chaotic and emotional and hit him all at once—
Like looking back and realizing every moment had been a breadcrumb trail leading right here.

To Harua.

One night, they were sitting on the dorm rooftop.

Quiet. Comfortable.

Maki looked over and said, "Did you always... feel this way?"

Harua froze for a split second too long. "Feel what way?"

Maki didn't look away. "Like I'm more than just your friend."

Harua hesitated.

Then nodded. "Yeah."

"How long?"

"A while."

And then, quietly, "You?"

Maki exhaled like the answer had been pressing against his ribs for weeks.

"All at once."

Harua smiled. Soft. Sad. Hopeful.

"I figured."

"You make it hard not to," Maki whispered, voice barely audible.

Harua turned his face slightly. "That's not an apology."

"It's not supposed to be."

They both laughed, breathless.

From there, it wasn't dramatic.
There were no sweeping declarations.
No fireworks.

Just... a gentle shift.

Harua's hand on Maki's shoulder.
Maki leaning into it without hesitation.
The way their eyes met and stayed there.

Maki fell harder.

He was the one sending late night texts just to say "I was thinking of you."
The one who blushed harder when Harua rested his head on his shoulder during movie nights.
The one who got nervous around the others—not because he was embarrassed, but because it mattered.

Harua was quiet love.
Steady love.

Maki was loud thoughts and soft confessions.
Bumping into feelings like furniture in the dark and loving with everything he had once he knew where to go.

One evening, Harua found a note on his desk.
No name. Just messy handwriting and way too many exclamation points.

"You're the only person who makes me feel like myself and someone better at the same time."
"Also, I'm pretty sure your eyes are my favorite color now."
"Stop looking at me like that, you're making it worse."

Harua laughed. Tucked the note in his drawer.

And later, pulled Maki into a hug that lasted long past the goodbye.

They never really said I love you in those exact words.

They didn't need to.

It was in the hoodie Harua threw onto Maki's bed before early rehearsals.
It was in the way Maki grabbed Harua's hand when he got nervous in crowds.
It was in the soft smiles, shared headphones, quiet spaces filled with laughter.

It was in the fall.

First. Hard.

And now... together.

The End.