Shreds of Doubt

The thing about Haru was that he was so perfect at everything he tried. Besides being the most beautiful swimmer Makoto had ever seen, he was also a talented artist, an accomplished chef, even a skilled woodcarver. Everything Haru touched came naturally to him. It was something about his hands, long, slender, and intelligent that made everything Haru did seem so beautiful.

Makoto, on the other hand, was large and clumsy. He was a decent swimmer, it was true, but he had no other talents whatsoever. His drawings had stopped being mistaken for the twins’ when they had outgrown his skill by the time they were eight. The last three times he had entered the kitchen, he had somehow set dinner on fire. Even Makoto agreed that trusting him with a large chunk of wood and some sharp tools was a disaster waiting to happen. In short, Makoto was entirely, breathtakingly ordinary.