Haru's home life

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"I'm home!" Haru yelled as he walked through the front door. His shoulders slumped as he realized no one was there. He lived alone. Haru slipped his backpack off of his shoulder and set it down by the stairs.
He made his way into his kitchen. He sighed as he opened the fridge and saw that all he had was a carton of skim milk and some strawberry jam. He pulled out the milk and set it on the counter. Next was to look in the pantry. Some bread sat alone on the shelf next to salt and pepper shakers.
"I guess I'll have the usual" he said as he walked to the freezer. He grabbed the frozen Mackerel and put it in the microwave to thaw for a while before cooking it. As he waited he poured himself a glass of milk and then headed upstairs.
He opened his bedroom door. His bed was made with blue sheets draped over the mattress. Haru loved the color blue. It's such a refreshing color, the color of water. Next to his bed was a small wooden desk. It was a simple desk to say the least. It only had a few drawers that acted as legs. He was bored. He wanted to swim. He wanted to have Makoto with him.
Haru went through the motions of stripping down into his swimsuit robotically. It was so much of a habit, he did it out of instinct. He filled up his bath tub with fresh water and didn't wait for it to warm up, and got in right away.
The cool water coated his skin and he instantly felt more at ease. His muscles relaxed and he sank into the water until his face was the only part of his that wasn't completely submerged in the bath. His dark hair floated in the water and he closed his eyes. Haru listened to the small tap of water still falling from the faucet. The monotone song had him feeling sleepy. He dosed off a little bit until he got too hungry and had to make his Mackerel.
When he stood up water fell down from his body, slowing down and speeding up at certain crevices of his body. He grabbed the towel hanging on the door and dried his hair quickly.
His stomach rumbled and he hurried downstairs. He threw on his apron and began to cook the fish. Once it was done he set the table. Only one plate on the large table. He was still alone. He shook his head trying to get his loneliness to diminish. He quickly took a bite of his food. He loved the way Mackerel tasted. He could have it every day and not get sick of it, which he already does anyway.
Later that night he went to bed and he could have sworn he head yelling from his friends house. Haru brushed it off and drifted off.

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