Gone With the Water

Gone with the water
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3183050.
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Free!
Relationship: Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka
Characters: Nanase Haruka, Matsuoka Rin, Tachibana Makoto, Yamazaki Sousuke,
Hazuki Nagisa, Ryuugazaki Rei
Additional Tags: Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon
Divergence, Post-Free! Eternal Summer, Dubious Consent
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2015-01-16 Completed: 2019-02-06 Words: 220,421
Chapters: 21/21
Gone with the water
by Enceladus
Summary
After years of sleeping his life away he finally let his hopes rise, only to have them crushed
back to the dust by a single piece of news.
So Rin is visiting Tokyo.
And he didn’t want Haruka to know a thing about it.
(A hypothetical continuation of the story from where our beloved anime ended, to the
happy/or not so much ending that it deserves.)
Notes
Hello guys,
So, how to start? I love Rinharu shipping and hope to be a part of a fandom for a while.
Basically, when I’m obsessed with a certain storyline, I tend to read each and every fan
fiction there is on the internet up until I find the One – what I call the Ultimate One, after
which I’m somewhat fully satisfied, and I can happily stop reading (and start on another story
all over - my god, I’m really not okay). Say, it’s something that contains everything: which
can make me laugh, cry, turn to jelly and melt on the floor at the same time and, at the right
time, feel like I need to get a cold shower. You know what I mean.
Do what I might, I still haven’t find something like that for Rinharu (although I dare to say
Wind waves from Phosphorite is pretty close to my UO – I looooove and recommend it :)).
So as you may assume, after I gave it a long though, I decided to try and write it myself (I
need to free myself from this obsession, goddamit, don’t I?).
Therefore, this is most likely going to be my first and only story I’ll ever write for this
pairing. I’ll try to make it a weekly thing, but please be patient with me; I, after all, have a
something of a life beyond fan fiction – like really ;).
So, what more to say? I deeply hope you’ll enjoy it at least as much as I do when I’m writing
it, and please note that I do not have a beta. Thus I welcome every comment and corrections
of typos or other errors. I am also not a native English speaker, so I beg your pardon for every
stupidity I’ll probably – most assuredly – write (though I swear I try my best not to coin new
words, shit happens).
Yay! The rating shall be going up, up, up for later chapters (I have no shame, whatsoever).
Chapter 1
Chapter Notes
NOTE: NOW BETA-ED!!! My endless gratitude and indebtedness go to

marbled_maven for all the hard work!!
One way or another, for him it was always about sounds.
Like now.
Birds chirping amidst the buildings behind his window pane reached his ears just as a shy
morning light touched his eyelids. Clacking of dishes from yesterday’s dinner; one plate
against another, one tea cup against another. The stream of water, falling steadily into a sink.
Makoto clearing out his throat. A soft hum of a kitchen radio.
Fabric rustling under his head. His own breathing.
The morning was similar to the one of yesterday, and, beyond any doubt, to the one of
tomorrow.
And as Haruka lay with his eyes closed, he knew exactly where he was and what the world
around him looked like. He could count the seconds until the sound of water would
disappear, and draw the line of steps that would pass his door as Makoto finished his every
day morning tasks and, after gathering his things, went to leave for the day. He would wait
for the gentle Have a good day, Haru coming from behind the thin wood, only to pretend he
was still fast asleep.
He still didn’t know why he did it, even after so many mornings that went by just the same.
And maybe all those sounds should have made him feel content. Should have given him a
sense of security, a feeling that he belonged somewhere. They marked that in his world, in
this little space he’d created here in a small Tokyo condo, there was nothing out of ordinary.
Nothing strange, nothing new, nothing exciting.
For a moment Haruka felt as if he lay back in his bed in Iwatobi. Would there be any
difference, really? The thought filled him with dread.
Only, despite the sounds convincing him otherwise, this wasn’t an ordinary morning, and he
didn’t feel the same. He wasn’t the same.
The shadows that still lingered in the corners of the room were abruptly cut into pieces by the
cold white light of a phone display, making him blink in discomfort. He let out a silent sigh.
The old wooden bed creaked under Haruka’s curled body as he pushed himself even farther
into the wall and leaned his burning forehead against its cooling surface.
It wasn’t any news that the mail box was shining back at him with a blank face, not at all. By
now he was far too used to the uncomfortable sensation that, as he had long before
understood, carried the name of disappointment. It was always the same, each and every time
he logged into his account.
Even after yesterday, after what he'd come to find out, Haruka didn't expect anything
different.
The red digits of the clock, standing on the old chipped nightstand, showed it was already
past 7:00, and he was yet to have a bath, put clothes on, make himself some mackerel, and
leave to catch a place in the heavy morning commute, all of it so he could be in a school by
eight.
Impossible.
Pulling the woollen duvet up over his head, Haruka stubbornly burrowed deeper into the
sheets and refused to move a muscle. He would miss a day of school, so what? Who would
preach him? Who would scold him for it? Makoto? A silent chuckle escaped his lips. The
world would have frozen first, for sure. Haruka was an adult now. He himself was
responsible for his life.
He was free.
Wasn’t he?
Haruka stared at the shining display that was mocking him for something he had done, or
maybe, on the contrary, hadn’t. Or perhaps it didn’t have anything with his acting, or not
acting. It was just as possible he merely got entangled in a game of some sort that he didn’t
even understand in the first place. Let alone knew the rules.
Either way, the outcome was ever the same.
From: matsuokar@gmail.com
To: haruchan@yahoo.com
January 17, 2014, 21:29
Hey Haru,
How’s it goin? It’s freaking hot here, can’t wait to see some snow for a change. So…I’ve
been thinking about middle of March, what would you think?
I set my personal record yesterday, HA! Next time it’ll be your turn to lose, Nanase!
PS: Melbourne was a blast, wasn’t it? That face of yours when you lost to that British dude
was irreplaceable :D
PS 2: Good god, do something about the stupid email address. What are you, a preschooler?
------------------------------------------------
From: haruchan@yahoo.com
To: matsuokar@gmail.com
January 20, 2014, 04:38
Rin,
The middle of March is fine with me. Nagisa opened the account for me.
Melbourne was fine. I wouldn’t have lost if you didn’t make fun of me and distract me.
You will never beat me, Matsuoka.
Haru
------------------------------------------------
To: haruchan@yahoo.com
February 21, 2014, 23:12
Ha, should’ve know Nagisa was behind it :) You can still ask Makoto, if you want to open
another one. Or even I can do it, if he’s busy or anything.
So I was looking for the plane tickets and I found two versions I could manage with my
budget. It’s either March 24th or April 25th. But the first one has an arrival time around
midnight, so it’s kind of fucked up, cause I’d waste the whole day for traveling.
And I wasn’t distracting you on purpose, I just can’t help my charm, s’all ;)
Haru, you’ve got some big mouth, I tell ya! So I will never win, you say??? Just wait until I
get there…
R
------------------------------------------------
From: nanaseharuka@gmail.com
February 22, 2014, 05:26
Rin,
I’m not an idiot. I could do it by myself, as you see.
24th of March is better.
Don’t promise what you can’t deliver, Rin-rin.
Haru
------------------------------------------------
To: nanaseharuka@gmail.com
February 26, 2014, 22:46
I swear, Nanase, there’s a dark side to you that no one knows about ;) and I never said you’re
an idiot, I just offered my services, that’s all :)
Why is March better? I told you I’d lose a day, dumbass. But whatever.
Btw, should I fetch some hotel, or can I crash at your place? Or Makoto’s, eventually? See,
Sousuke lives with these three dudes, two of which I know from Samezuka. Trust me, you
wouldn’t touch that place with a ten-foot pole, it’s a sewer, at best.
I have a new roommate, by the way. At last, cause I was running out of money paying for
such a big place by myself. Jane’s her name. Cutie pie, I’m sure you’d like her. And she says
hi ☺
Good night, Haru-chan.
------------------------------------------------
February 27, 2014, 03:29
It’s sooner.
You can stay with us, there’s a free couch in the common area. Though I’m afraid Nagisa
demolished it last time he slept on it.
Why would she say hi? She doesn’t know me.
PS: Well, now you know.
Haru
------------------------------------------------
February 28, 2014, 22:49
:)))))) Fine. Sooner’s better, no doubt.
She doesn’t know you, personally, but I might have talked about you. You know me and my
big mouth :)
You said I can stay with you, so you have a roommate too? Nah, it’s just like you to keep
something like that a secret :) Are they cool? :)
Do you want me to bring something from Sydney?
Haru, is it too much to say I can’t wait?
------------------------------------------------
March 1, 2014, 02:19

Don’t talk about me with others.
Roommate, who? I meant Makoto, of course.
It’s not too much, Rin.
------------------------------------------------
March 10, 2014, 17:26
Rin,
I didn’t get any answer from you. When will you come exactly? You want me to collect you
at the airport? I tried to check the airport website, but it’s too confusing. Let me know.
------------------------------------------------
March 14, 2014, 23:19
Haru,
I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to reply to you, things are sort of crazy in here. You see, something
came up about my training program, and so it seems I’ll have to stay here for a little longer.
I’ll let you know as soon as everything’s sorted out.
Rin
------------------------------------------------
March 16, 2014, 07:46
Rin,
Ok.
Haru
And then, nothing.
Haruka could hardly count all the messages carefully written and readied to be sent, even
though it never happened in the end. Rin said that he’d write himself, after all.
If only it was easier to fall asleep at nights.
Then maybe he’d actually be able to put up some show at training, instead of standing on the
starter’s block and looking like a total dumbass for not hearing the coach’s whistle
demanding him to dive.
I really did it, didn’t I? I forgot about the water.
The thought was hardly believable.
The prickling pressure in his stomach intensified. Rolling onto his back Haruka mulled over
the unbelievable happenings of yesterday. Hearing Nagisa’s chirping voice over the phone
might not have been a surprise altogether, but the unexpected call so soon in the morning
implied that something off hung in the air.
He was never too far from truth, when it came to Nagisa.
And yes, just like that, the news was out there on the table. Although Nagisa might have
apologized a million times over and claimed he was under the impression everybody knew it,
the apparent lack of change in his cheerful voice after the cards were put on the table implied
otherwise. Not only had Nagisa known, he was well aware that Haruka hadn’t.
So…
Rin would be visiting Japan. Soon.
And he knew nothing of it.
Period.
As if that wasn’t enough to stomach for a single day, Haruka had had to actually see his face
that very same evening. Bad luck, hah... Dragging his exhausted body back home a damned
half an hour earlier than usual, he expected Makoto sitting above a pile of books, or running
around the kitchen like a lost puppy, or watching stupid TV shows he would never admit to
watching, or fucking anything but skyping with Rin and his… what, roommate?
A girlfriend?
Haruka rubbed his closed eyelids with the heels of his palms before they could do something
funny. That guilty look on his face… At least he had had the decency to not meet his eyes
after the first awkward minute passed, and—Jane?—the girl asked to be introduced to
another friend of her precious Rin in English that bore a simple, but charming accent he
could not place. The word stuck halfway from the ears to his brain.
Friend. Was he, even?
Now, to be completely honest, she wasn’t half that bad. Haruka secretly wished she would
have been. Even in the terms of Haruka’s non-existent interest in other human beings, it was
apparent in the looks Rin and Makoto had both given her each time she’d spoken, or laughed.
Blond hair, round face, plump lips. She was as far from girls they all knew from home as she
could get. And maybe he wouldn’t have called her beautiful, but she had something
endearing in her eyes when she smiled.
It was unfair. Because Haruka knew that under different circumstances, had that scene been
happening in the world where he himself wouldn’t have lost his mind for… well, he would
have probably approved.
Rin had looked at her with admiration. And not that it mattered all that much… it really
didn’t.
It didn’t.
But… those kind of looks Haruka knew. He knew them all too well. Because—he was not all
that stupid. Because, frankly, he knew that once upon a time he had been the one on the
receiving end. Because it was all lost now.
He rolled to the other side of the bed in a futile attempt to find a way to shut up his brain, but
stilled immediately when the creak of a door reached his ears.
“Haru?”
So he hadn’t left yet?
The wave of anger, the very same one that had washed over him when Makoto’s surprised
face had turned to him from a lit computer screen, swayed in his guts again. He clutched the
fabric of the duvet in his fist, hoping desperately that somehow, in Makoto’s own specific
way, he’d get that this was definitely, ultimately not a good time for the discussion he most
probably came for. There was not a thing he could say to his best friend at that moment.
“Haru, please, don’t be mad.”
Shameful as it was, and he knew he’d later feel guilty as hell about it, he despised him right
then. Because, shit, Makoto knew. Not everything, since it was never as if they sat and talked
about it, but Makoto just knew him in a way Haruka wasn’t sure he understood himself. And
he was pretty sure he could not have contained all those currents and undercurrents, flowing
wildly through him, strongly enough when he came back from Melbourne. Or the first trip to
Australia with Rin. Or, honestly, any time they had gone out together before.
He had seen it in the mirror himself, anyway.
And despite the fact that Rin or anybody hadn’t said a word about the upcoming holidays in
Japan during the Skype call, all Haruka needed for confirmation was one look into Makoto’s
eyes.
Not that he met his gaze very willingly after the call ended, though.
So… not only was it true, but Makoto knew Rin was coming, too. It wasn’t all that surprising
since, most probably, everybody knew except Haruka.
It stunk of betrayal, anyway.
The door closed, at last.
At the time he’d sent those emails he was dead sure that Rin would not move a brow over the
fact that they, in reality, didn’t have any couch he could sleep on in the common area—apart
of the two worn out TV chairs, small coffee table, and accordingly looking cabinet, the tiny
room was still empty, even more than half a year after they moved in.
Now… it seemed like the stupidest thing to think, ever. It wasn’t only a question if Rin was
that easily swept away by someone else. Because now, damn it, it really seemed that Haruka
had just made it all in his mind.
It didn’t matter, he told himself, over and over again.
It didn’t.
It didn’t.
It didn’t matter.
But, hell it did! Because Haruka had read each and every letter of the emails again and again
—previous night, just as during so many others before—digging for a clue, but all he’d found
was the same. That there was that “something”.
Something that he had brought with him back from Australia. Something that made his
stomach tighten in knots; something that, apparently, even Rin was aware of once upon the
time.
Just. Something.
What had happened, then?
Yes, it seemed as if Rin had stopped writing after he mentioned he lived with Makoto, but…
Haruka’d always thought of Rin as a smart guy—even though sometimes in a fairly stupid,
stubborn way—so he simply could not believe he’d, even for a second, thought something
funny about the fact that Haruka shared the place with him. They’d been best friends for all
their life, after all.
So there had to be something else.
And that something was her, of course.
Haruka let out a resigned sigh through his nose, pulled one of the pillows from underneath
his head and tossed it between his body and the wall. Scooting over he pushed an aching back
against it and firmly shut his eyes. Well. He’d sworn yesterday he was never going to do it
again, but, shit… What was he supposed to do?
He spent the whole night in a state of permanent anxiousness, falling in and out of a hollow
sleep. The dreams that kept waking him up had never forgotten to shake him right to the
core.
How pathetic, really, was he that even on a night like that, when he had been pretty much
shown a middle finger right to his face, the only way to fall asleep was to pretend he was not
alone in the bed?
The feeling he usually got from the warmth behind him wasn’t the same, though. Because
this morning, he could hardly pretend anymore that it was something else but his own body
heating up the fabric of the pillow, sending it back to his muscles. There was no one there.
But he leaned into it anyway, praying for the already familiar picture of a strong arm circling
his waist to emerge fast and drown him into slumber—the picture that had used to help him
fall asleep instantly for many, many nights.
And it did again, eventually.
While in a death of a night, everything might have been written to a mere dream, Haruka had
known then he hadn’t been in one. The embrace had felt far too real for that. The embrace he
had obtained once in the southern hemisphere while he had lain on his side, wide awake long
after the lights went out, and the English words ’night, night’, soft, yet heavy all the same,
spoken right behind his ear. When he had opened his eyes again, the arm had been gone, but
the warmth lingered deep in his bones.
When he woke up, the sounds of the condo had been dulled by lazy afternoon.
***
“Nanase!”
Haruka’s head snapped in the direction the sharp yell came from, and he let the weights
slowly fall from above his head down onto the floor. Dry-land coach’s bulky figure occupied
almost the whole space of the door on the other side of the gym as he motioned for him to
move his ass and follow him out. If the sour expression on the man’s face wasn’t enough for
Haruka to know that something brutally unpleasant had happened, then the growl in his voice
certainly did.
“Tatano-san wants you over. Get out.”
Haruka stared at the man while wiping sweaty face into a towel. As much as he hated dry
land training and would’ve used any excuse to avoid it, he didn’t particularly like the idea of
having to run all sweaty through the whole university outdoor area in a surprisingly cold
middle May evening.
“Now?”
“No, next year, dumbass. Move your ass and make it short, so I’ll see you here again before
we’re done. Understood?”
He merely nodded and moved to fetch his belongings from the bench before he headed to the
locker room. Passing the wall with a clock that showed it was well after 7 p.m., Haruka
wondered idly what could be so important to snatch him in the middle of a weight-lifting
session. It didn’t sound like Tatano at all, since, after all, it was exactly his swim coach who
prodded him about his lack of muscles in the first place.
He jogged all the way to the main school building, a thin windbreaker doing next to nothing
against the freezing droplets thrown in his face by a chilly wind. It seemed a downpour was
on the menu for tonight. A smiling face welcomed him as he entered Tatano’s office, just
before he sat down on the old chair in front of the table.
“Nanase-kun, I’m terribly sorry to bother you during the training... oh, is it raining outside?!”
The man looked sincerely sorry, but it helped nothing with a strange twist in Haruka’s chest.
What was he here for?
“A bit. Yes.”
“Then there’s one more reason to apologize, but, hopefully, you’ll see it was worth your time
in a minute. Let me fetch us a warm cup of tea first.”
Haruka stared at his own arms folded on his chest and fought against the sudden urge to rise
and flee while the older man rummaged around the small kitchenette, standing in the far
corner of the office. Although distantly aware of his own leg jumping in distress, he was
determined to stay collected.
And not jump to any premature conclusions.
The fucked up yesterday’s training was a mere fact though, and same went for his times as of
late, which were truthfully nowhere close to the ones he was capable of getting. While he was
still able to beat other swimmers he raced at the school’s natatorium more often than not
when he stepped onto the starter’s block, it just… wasn’t the same.
And it wasn’t just about the few chosen ones that ruled Toyo university’s waters and were,
for some reason, unbeatable—like Yamato Hagino, to be specific. Because they had tons of
experience Haruka didn’t, and they had been doing it for much, much longer—as Tatano
stated himself. He didn’t think much about it. It was, after all, just a matter of mere time
before he would get to a similar position.
No, this was just about himself. Because it had been months since the downward spiral of his
times started, and no matter how much time he spent in the pool, or how many flutter kicks
he did on the mattress of the gym, it just had no effect at all. And while he was, at the
moment, still ranked among the best that swam under Tatano, he knew it was just a matter of
time till he wouldn’t be. And it scared the shit out of him.
Sometimes he felt like laughing.
Over himself, specifically. Especially over his past self, who had made sure to put a show of
not caring about anything one too many times to be believable. Neither his times, nor wins.
Nothing at all, actually. And despite not being certain about why exactly he cared so much
now, he just did.
So when Tatano’s slender figure turned his back to him while gathering pieces of a tea set, he
found it quite reasonable to have doubts... and fear the consequences.
Maybe Rin had been closer to the truth than he knew himself, when he mocked him through
those emails, after all. Because Haruka wasn’t completely sure if there was a vast difference
between being a preschooler and a freshman pretending to not fail at being a professional
athlete.
“Nanase-kun, let me ask you one question.”
“Yes, sensei?”
“Does your decision on the matter we discussed at the beginning of the semester still stand?”
Haruka blinked in confusion, staring at the back of Tatano’s head with a frown. Where was
this heading? While it was flattering in a certain way that his coach remembered the topic
they had talked about many months ago—if that was what Tatano was onto here anyway—
Haruka had never presented it as a definite decision, nor had he done any steps to follow the
idea in terms of putting it into reality.
“You do remember, don’t you?”
“…I remember.”
“I’m talking about your wish to transfer abroad after the summer. Is it still on?”
Haruka’s gaze fell to the wooden surface of the table in front of him, but it helped nothing to
wipe a vivid picture of red hair from his inner sight.
His decision, huh? Was it ever an actual decision? Had he really put it that way? He didn’t
remember presenting his thought in such a decisive, confident way. It had been more of a
silent question directed to Tatano after a training session, muttered in the heat of an almost
won race against Hagino and a night spent halfway composing an answer to Rin’s email,
halfway lying wide awake—a strange current running up and down his arteries, effectively
preventing him from sleep.
There was a more important issue now, though. So—was it still on, or not?
Coach’s body turned ever so slightly as he tossed a curious look over his shoulder, while he
waited and waited for an answer that wasn’t coming his way. Haruka’s brain short-circuited,
running around searching for a clue that would help him and solve the crossword he had been
successfully avoiding for quite a long time.
“I—I guess.”
It wasn’t like him to stutter at all, and he saw it in the quirk of the man’s brow—that he,
firstly, noticed the inner battle that ran wild in Haruka’s head, and second, didn’t like the
answer one bit.
“You guess. Well, Nanase-kun, I certainly hoped for something different to hear. But”—he
smiled wryly—“I guess it’s what we have to go with for the time being.”
The sharp sound of a door slapping abruptly cut off Haruka’s trembling thoughts and, with a
dull echo, resonated through his chest. As if in a surreal dream he watched Hirai—that Hirai
of the Hirai swimming team, a nation-wide known star of Toyo University—invade the
scarce space of the office, cross its width with a few confident steps and throw his body into
the chair next to him. Black eyes turned to him—scanned him, evaluated him—before a wry
smile appeared on the thin lips.
“You must be Nanase-kun, am I right? I’m Hirai, but you probably knew that already."
Haruka merely nodded. The beating of his heart picked up a pace of the raindrops hitting
outside the window pane. The man’s long face turned towards Tatano’s small frame, still
hunched over the tea set on a tray, with his usual frown.
What the hell was going on?
“Now, now, Tatano-san, I don’t have a whole day. Let’s get it on with.”
“Patience, my friend. We’re perfectly ready, only waiting for the other side to start.”
Start what? Haruka watched the small steps that his coach took with an unstable tray in his
hands with silent bewilderment, only then noticing it carried three cups of steaming tea. He
blinked, awakening from a stupor, and opened his mouth to speak.
But words stuck somewhere between his lungs and lips as a silent, yet recognizable, sound
filled the room. Haruka’s throat constricted automatically at the Skype tune, even if it was
beyond ridiculous, since, for the starters, he’d never really talked to Rin through the
computer beside yesterday’s night with Makoto and that girl, and second, it was beyond
possible that such a dreamlike scene he unexpectedly found himself in now would have
actually involved even the subject of his worst nightmares.
Provided this wasn’t the nightmare itself.

He didn’t know how to control the track of his own thoughts anymore, and that realization
made his heart skip more than a single beat.
Tatano’s hands hastily pushed the tray aside and turned the wide screen of his PC towards the
both of them. The smile he threw into Haruka’s face was warm and reassuring, but it did not
warm, nor reassure him in a slightest.
“Here we go,” Tatano-san sing-songed before he answered the call.
It could have been all just a mere hallucination, a dream, woven from the unfulfilled desires
Haruka wasn’t even aware harboring deep between the cells of his betraying brain. Because a
cold, yet genuinely curious gaze moved from Tatano’s speaking figure in the direction his
own face must have been shown on the screen that, somewhere on the other side of the ocean,
stood on a wide wooden table.
It could have been, but it wasn’t.
In the midst of words spoken in a language that was not his own, Haruka found himself on
the verge of passing out, since he somehow forgot to breath—somewhere between the
stranger’s casual hi there folks and Hirai’s grunted watch your mouth, this is Japan, if you
haven’t noticed, with more than a slight Japanese accent. And when the track of the
conversation took a horrible turn and focused on him, demanding actual answers presented in
articulated English, he was certain a terrible hum of the waves wasn’t only in his ears—he
must have been drowning for real.
“Mr. Nanase, I’m absolutely pleasured to finally meet you. Even though it’s only through the
computer screen.” The man’s face lit up in a friendly smile and Haruka released a choky
breath.
He understood.
He could actually really understand an actual Australian, an actual whole sentence.
There was no doubt about the man’s descent, even if Haruka’s experience with foreigners
were just shy of non-existent; the softness of the language was so alike Rin’s learned English
that he had no problem whatsoever with its identification. A wave of nervous energy washed
over him as he stared back, still lip-sealed and awe-struck. Only when a reassuring palm
rested on his shoulder he seemed to wake from the stupor.
He nodded. At that, the man gave him an apologetic shrug.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Nanase. I had been informed that you are currently studying advanced
English, but should it be overly stressful for you, we could ask Mr. Tatano to translate.”
“No.” Haruka almost spat in an attempt to stop the man from taking this chance away from
him. “I’m sorry. Sorry.”
The man’s friendly face smiled again and Haruka felt the sudden urge to try better, if only to
help make this whole situation at least a fraction less awkward than it’d quickly become.
Which, as it turned out, wasn’t all that easy after the grumpy puff from his side pulled all
their attention to Hirai’s annoyed face. And especially after the words that followed.
“Maybe if you’d let the boy know your name, or who you actually are, he’d be able to find
his tongue somewhere.”
The man’s mouth instantly created almost a perfect “o” as a realization hit him, and his hand
snapped up behind his head to run through the dark strands there, his face lighting up with a
sheepish smile.
“Crikey! I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself! Damn, I’m so sorry! So, so sorry!”
“That is fine.” Haruka managed to push the words through pursed lips, shocked and shaken
to the core by the man’s sudden outburst of emotions.
“Well, well.” Tatano’s calm voice that carried traces of amusement helped to somewhat ease
the tension. “It’s my fault, to be completely honest. I sort of wished to surprise Nanase-kun,
and I guess I succeeded, although in a slightly different way than I wanted to.”
Haruka released a shaky breath.
After a moment or two he could almost breathe freely again, and although the situation still
made him more nervous than curious, the easy banter the men exchanged had a somewhat
calming effect on him. And Tatano’s easy-going and friendly nature definitely helped too.
“Nanase-kun, let me introduce you to a very good friend of mine, Troy Martin, the head
coach of Sydney university’s swimming team and the newly named coach of Australia’s
national team.”
Haruka’s eyes widened with sudden terror, and if his heart didn’t fly out of his chest and right
out of the window to the downpour at that moment, he wasn’t sure where it was. Because he
was almost certain that he could not track the pulse in his veins for at least a whole thirty
seconds, all the while the three other men waited patiently for his reaction.
And they sort of got one.
“I…” He started after a solid while of awkward silence, but honestly didn’t even know what
that intended sentence was supposed to be. Or maybe he was the only one that created the
awkwardness in his head, because Tatano’s soft laugh soon filled the room with soothing
warmth and Martin’s toothy grin threatened to make contact on the other side of his head.
“Breathe, kid,” Hirai’s snappy voice ordered as he slapped Haruka’s shoulder, but he was
almost sure there was an unwanted, although amused, smile hidden somewhere between the
letters. “Or else it’s gonna get into his head. He’s arrogant enough as he is now.”
And so he did. He drove the breath slowly and with much effort inside, and felt his brain
starting to function again.
“I-I’m pleased to meet you, mister.” Haruka’s words apparently surprised them the same way
as they did to him.
“Spiffy!” Martin exclaimed. “So they were right about the English. One less problem, then.
Now, to let you know, Mr. Nanase, I had been informed around the beginning of this year by
the good friend of mine, Mr. Tatano here, that there is a certain excellent young man who
would like to try his luck with the team at our university. You must understand,” the man
said, and his expression suddenly turned into one of a pure seriousness, “this is not the
regular way of student recruitment. It is only due to your coach and mentor’s word that we
are having this conversation.”
He fell silent for a while, exchanging a friendly smile with Tatano, who sat now by Haruka’s
right side.
It was incredible. And unbelievable. And Haruka thought he could feel the reality crawling in
as a fat worm, as a very important thought activated his neurons.
This is really happening. I have a chance.
Do I still want it? Despite everything?
Because no matter how he looked at it, how he tried to see it from different angles, one thing
was quickly becoming more than certain.
Rin didn’t want him in Sydney. Rin didn’t want him—at all.
***
The genkan was strangely silent when Haruka stepped in, and he could not help the wave of
relief that washed over him. But sure as hell, before he even had a chance to take his shoes
off, Makoto’s somber face emerged from behind the corner.
“Haru.”
He sighed and nodded, exhausted and in a mood far too sour to allow any place for
socializing. And it was the moment he lifted his hand to reach for a hanger when his brain
finally kicked into action. Haruka moaned, rubbing his face with a palm of his hand, and
Makoto’s face instantly turned into the one of a horrible premonition.
“What is it? What happened?”
“Nothing,” Haruka said, and his words were merely a murky whisper.
But it was not that simple, unfortunately. Because damn.
Damn it.
He’d forgotten about the dry-land training that he was supposed to go back to after he dealt
with Tatano.
Not that there was any regular training session by the time Haruka, Hirai, and Tatano had
finished, but he knew the coach. With the probability closing to certainty, the man was going
to make his life a living hell now.
“Haru.” Makoto’s voice interrupted the stream of unpleasant images flowing through his
head. “I need to talk to you.”
“Not now. I’m tired.”
Silence.
He walked past Makoto’s tall figure and didn’t even have to side-glance at him to know that
he was shuffling from foot to foot in a vain attempt to push against Haruka’s definite
rejection. And if he expected the man to back off as always, this time he was, unfortunately,
very wrong.
“It’s important, though.”
“I said I—”
“It’s about Rin.”
And, truthfully, there weren’t many things at the moment that would have instantly sent
Haru’s heart into a wild gallop. But—hell.
Makoto definitely managed to find one.

Chapter 2
Chapter Notes
Hi, guys! New chapter’s here. Enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“Yeah.”
So why they had been sitting at the kitchen table for ten minutes already without uttering a
single word was a question that Haruka would’ve quite liked to know an answer to. He came
to know every single pattern on the scratched wooden surface, analyzed the way the artificial
light coming from a ceiling lamp kept breaking on the empty glass in front of him, listened to
Makoto’s nervous inhales and exhales, all the while trying not to throw up.
Honestly, it was way past time for Makoto to open his mouth.
Faint ringing came from the direction of his room once again, as if someone on the other side
of the line had an idea how desperately they needed to tear apart an unrelenting silence.
Haruka didn’t even move a brow over the sound this time around.
Why would he? It felt like an inane part of this weird movie-like scene anyway.
“Aren’t you going to pick it up?” Makoto’s voice was low and it trembled around the edges.
“It’s like the sixth time.”
“No.”
“A-alright.”
And here they went again, falling into silence for the nth time. Makoto’s face turned into the
impersonation of tension again, and only when Haruka’s heavy sigh filled the kitchen, his
suddenly terrified eyes snapped up.
“Makoto, it’s fine. I know about Rin.”

You can give up trying now.
“Huh?”
Haruka almost smiled as he watched his friend blink a few times in rapid succession, and his
cheeks turn pinkish. Almost. Makoto lowered his head, and when he let out a shaky breath,
this time it seemed to be more from relief. And as if a heavy burden had been taken away
from his shoulders, he straightened in the chair. It creaked under his weight.
“Nagisa called,” Haruka added, if only to make this torture end faster.
“Oh.”
And that was supposed to be the only reaction Haruka was going to get? He waited and
waited, until the moment stretched into minutes. Because it was one thing to put the cards on
the table, but completely different to read them. Because he wanted to get at least something
from Makoto’s lips, what he would offer as a matter of an explanation. He didn’t need an
apology, no.
But this, this was not enough.
The wave of anger threatened to overwhelm him once again. But then, as he pushed his
muscles into action, placed sweaty palms against kitchen table to hold his weight, and stood
up, the weak voice delivered words he wanted—and didn’t want to hear—at once.
“You’re mad, Haru. You’re mad... at me. But... I know how it’ll sound, but… it’s really not
my fault. It’s not. Believe me. He made us all promise.” And if that didn’t feel like a slap
across the face, what came next finished the job for sure. “He’s a friend, Haru.”
So what?
So what?!
And Haruka was not? Was he not?! He didn’t deserve even the courtesy of having the most
basic information? Was it so damn easy to throw him out of their loop? Hadn’t their little
group spent years together, had fun together, gone to school together, only to be ripped apart
by one single man that, for some reason, decided that Haruka was not good enough for him?
Where was the logic in it?
Us. He made us all promise, Makoto said.
Haruka wondered what kind of gathering was planned for the next few days? How Makoto
wanted to explain all the time spent outside, anyway? Did they really think something big
like that would stay uncovered? Did they really think Haruka was so stupid?
Then why, for god’s sake, had Nagisa decided to act against it?
He realized, all of a sudden, that for being so preoccupied with the idea of Rin being in the
same city, he almost missed another thing. That because of that idiotic promise Haruka had
lost the chance to see all of his friends.
A chance that was probably not going to reappear for many months ahead.
Living in a big city like Tokyo was hardly bearable sometimes. White noise of the busy
streets kept coming in from dawn to sunset, and he was not fond of it, to say the least.
Sometimes he thought about how it would feel to call it a day and return to the silence of
Iwatobi.
But there they were: Makoto, only one wall apart; Nagisa, who texted and e-mailed and
yelled to his ear more often than he’d like to; Rei, whose kind messages made slowly
crawling weeks easier to deal with. It’s been months since they’d spent time together.
So…
If Rin wanted to avoid him and keep his whereabouts secret, that was one thing. But,
hell, they were there too. They, who belonged to Haruka’s life. Not Rin’s only.
They were Haruka’s first, not his.
What right did Rin have to snatch them away? To make them promise to keep their visit in
Tokyo a secret? How dare he?
He wanted to scream, to get it all out. To find the way how to deal with it, without breaking
apart. To ease the pressure that kept swelling in his chest since Nagisa’s call and, honestly, for
many weeks prior. To do anything so it wouldn’t burn so damn much. Anything would’ve
been enough, really.
Standing in the tiny kitchen, under the cold white light of the old lamp, Haruka had never
prayed more for being able to snap.
But, for some reason, the words never came; not now, not ever. They seemed to be reserved
for a special occasion that almost never bothered to show up. Perhaps if Rin was standing
right there in front of him, like he had that one time in a locker room, Haruka’d be able to
find his voice. He could yell then, but now it felt like a hundred lives ago.
So he did what he always had: looked to the side, bit his tongue, and kept his face straight.
“So… how are you dealing?” There came the faint question. He almost laughed.
Apart from wanting to break something in half?
“Fine.”
Exquisite. Awesome. Unbelievably fucking good.
“…You’re not going to do something”—Makoto stopped himself at the last moment, but his
futile attempt to swallow the word ’stupid ’ was way too comical—“like… before?”
What?
Haruka could not fight against the sudden urge to furrow his brows.
“What are you talking—” he tried to ask, made the effort to put his confusion into actual
words, but the sentence died on his lips, unfinished.
Because the bubble they shared almost burst under an unexpected attack from outside. And
this time, it was not just an easily ignorable phone ringing.
Makoto’s head snapped in the direction of the front door, and Haruka’s eyes followed right
after.
“You expecting someone?”
And maybe if this somewhat intimate moment with the two of them facing each other—
hearts heavy—felt that it had at least a faint connection to reality, Haruka would’ve been
pissed off even more. For being interrupted. For having the opportunity to ask and find out
everything about Rin’s fucked-up reasons ripped out of his hands.
Now he was just confused.
“No.”
He watched in a dreamlike state as Makoto stood up and walked with unsteady legs to the
front door. It opened with a soft scratch against the wooden floor.
And if Haruka hadn’t already been sure that the universe had something against him these
days, it certainly happened when the pair of light brown eyes lifted from under black fringe
and threw daggers his way.
“Well, well, look who’s not dead, after all.”
***
What was it with the weather this spring?
The days when the world was not bathed in a moody grey light could’ve been counted on the
fingers of one hand. It rained and rained. The downpours had stolen the soft pink petals of
sakura trees, that came into bloom unusually soon this year, and washed them down into the
city’s drainage system.
It was almost June, already, and the streets were lined with trees that didn’t seem any
different from the ordinary ones. He didn’t mind.
One less reminder to have in front of his eyes, every day.

Haruka jogged through the park in the light morning rain, trying to ignore the way damp shirt
and hoodie stuck to his skin and made him shiver with displeasure. It was far too cold for
such extravagance—or stupidities; depending on how you put it. But he’d had to get away.
Had to find a peace of mind somehow, even if it meant to catch pneumonia.
It was just like his mother to show up right on Sunday, when the school’s natatorium was
kept under lock. And effectively rob him of the one thing that could have calmed him. Since
swimming anywhere else would have meant putting up with tens of unknown people, he now
really had no place to go.
Damn.
Her arrival came out of the blue, and, as usual, at the worst time possible. Why was she here?
For what reason did she find her presence in their tiny condo, and his life, desirable?
He hadn’t seen her in such a long time that he’d already stopped counting. It was months,
maybe even years. And now she was here, expecting something Haruka was sure he could
not provide. He had enough problems to deal with as it was.
He hadn’t asked her questions after she walked in yesterday night—heavy baggage in hand,
usual arrogant smile on her face.
He hadn’t asked what that was all supposed to mean. How come she was there. He hadn’t
asked what it was she wanted. Or where his father was. Not even where she intended to sleep.
Not that she gave him any chance.
All possible niceties were abruptly cut off by a single statement of hers, claiming to be
extremely tired. Since, apparently, Haruka was not to be reached for the whole night, he was
the reason why she had to carry a heavy load from the station to their place on her own.
Beyond doubt it was also the reason why she had to walk in the drizzle that kept falling from
the dark sky, and probably was going to catch a cold. It was also reason for many other
things, Haruka stopped listening after a solid while.
He might have been the cause of an earthquake, for all he cared.
But what he did care about was something else. As he watched, without word, the door to his
own room closing behind the suitcase and her tiny frame, he fought against the sudden
assault of childhood memories that he was not ready to deal with at the moment—not when
Makoto, standing beside him, was not on his side anymore.
The pictures kept coming back, anyway.
And then he lay awake on a spare futon in Makoto’s room, banished even from the only place
he’d been able to find any semblance of calmness. He had no other pillow, no wall to soothe
the burning need.
He was sure he was alone in it, drowning in the strangely opaque sea of fears and doubts, but
maybe he was wrong, after all. Because then something moved in the dark, and there came a
soft whisper.
“I’m sorry for being such a coward, Haru. I didn’t know… I couldn’t find a way to tell you.”
Haruka nodded in the dark, knowing all too well that nothing could have been noticed, and
turned around. Without a word. Up until yesterday there was no need for anything more in
the world the two of them shared. And while he didn’t know if that was still true, he had no
courage to test it. Soon enough, Makoto’s breathing turned into deep, regular inhales and
exhales, leaving reality and Haruka behind. He was one lucky bastard.
It was around four-thirty when the display of his phone lit up with a soft beep. Had it be any
other time of a day, and his brain was able to exhibit any functioning activity, Haruka would
have certainly decided against looking.
Only it was not.
So, after few moments of self-loathing, dedicated to the ultimate loss of an ability to think
rationally, he reached out for the devil’s invention. He tried to calm down.
It isn’t him.
It can’t be him.
And it was not, of course.
With the pain intensifying in his lungs Haruka broke into a run towards home, heading to
what was unavoidable.
So… Rin might already be here.
In the same piece of world called a city. Maybe less then few hundred kilometers stood
between their bodies at the moment; maybe even less. Who knew?
The thought kept coming back and was unrelenting like an invincible army. Unfortunately, at
least a dozen emotions accompanied it every time it attacked Haruka’s mind, from anger to a
strange form of a nostalgic sadness.
He could hardly decide which one of them was worse.
The first thing he noticed as he opened the door was an odor so unfamiliar for his and
Makoto’s home that he almost turned around to check the nametags outside.
Not that, again.
Haruka walked in with silent steps, as if he could rouse a wild animal from its sleep. He
almost snickered; the metaphor might have been closer to the truth than he wished. The
blinds were drawn, unknown dark ruled the apartment at the early hour of the day.
She sat at the kitchen table, expressionless face turned towards TV, which ran on mute in the
common area. The door to Makoto’s room was ajar; soft light, coming from his window, fell
onto the tatami.
A thin streak of smoke danced in the half-lit condo.
He stopped a few steps behind her, placing keys onto the cupboard. She didn’t even notice
him.
“You’re not allowed to smoke in here.”
Her head snapped to meet his eyes, wry smile showing on her lips before she turned back to
the TV, and Makoto chose that exact moment to come out of the room. His smile was
strangely shy when he headed for the fridge. As if it was not him who was at home here.
She had that kind of effect on people, wherever she appeared.
“Do you have a balcony?”
“…No,” Haruka muttered after a while, and wiped the sweat which blended on his brows
with the cold raindrops.
“It seems we run out of options, then.”
He turned for his room, heading to get himself a set of clean clothes. The answer came easier
than he thought it might have to.
“There’s still outside.”
And it was one thing to hear her dry laugh, but completely different to face Makoto’s shocked
expression.
Yeah, well.
There weren’t many who had the opportunity to get a glimpse of the heart-warming
relationship the two of them had shared for many long years now. Since she and his father
had left for who knew where, to say the least. Truth be told, she’d never been an overly
motherly type, not even before.
How funny that even Makoto, who knew him the longest, had no idea of how fucked up his
life really was.
Haruka walked back into the kitchen and watched her put out the cigarette into the cup that
was, apparently, supposed to serve the function of an ashtray. His favorite, of course; it wore
a childish depiction of a shark, biting into a beach ball. He sighed and looked away.
How typical.
His mother stood up and headed towards his room. But he wouldn’t have expected her to
leave any bitter remark without answer. That just wasn’t her.
“Polite as always, Nanase Haruka.”
He reached for the window handle and pulled roughly, until the old frame finally let go. Fresh
air flew into the room like a deep breath of spring.
But he would not let her have the last word. He was not a child, anymore.
“Poor upbringing, I guess.”
Haruka more heard than saw how her steps halted in the darken room and how long black
hair swayed fiercely behind her once she vanished behind the door. He wished she was
anywhere but here.
“Ha-Haru.” Makoto’s appalled words were the only ones that filled the suddenly still condo.
But the feeling of accomplishment was far too intense to do more than notice this reprimand.
***
You have two Facebook notifications
28 May
Otsuka Miyake invited you to play Farm Heroes Saga.
Nagisa Hazu Hazu Kiiii invited you to event Australians gloriously take Tokyo.
What the fuck?
It was around four-thirty when the display of his phone lit up with a soft beep, and it was
around four-thirty-four that Haruka put his phone down without running the Facebook app.
That four minutes of staring on the one particular sentence was just enough to live through
the various attacks of shock, rage, disappointment, plain wonder and, finally, resignation.
Well, thank you very fucking much, Nagisa. Haruka was pretty sure he would not have
survived without knowing about the page’s existence.
He couldn’t read it then, lying next to Makoto’s peacefully sleeping figure. Hell no.
But now, sitting fully clothed on an empty bathtub’s edge while drops of sweat ran down his
spine after the morning jog, he thought that maybe… he was ready. He had to look anyway,
eventually. One day. Only maybe not today…
No.
He had to. He was not a coward.
The pile of clean jeans and shirt slipped off the chair and fell to the floor in a mess of fabric.
He didn’t care. All Haruka could do was turn the phone around in the palm of his hand and
stare off into the distance.
Come on. Let’s do it.
In a sudden moment of courage he ran the app and waited. And waited, and waited, and
cursed slow internet connection more than a few times. At last, the page loaded.
And there it was.
All that he feared, served on a silver platter.
The moment he had read the notification Haruka knew exactly what would be the very first
thing that he’d look at. And he was right, of course.
Guests
6 going, 1 maybe, 1 invited
She was there between the 6, that much was certain. All he knew was her first name and a
face, and it sure was just enough to recognize her. What would he find there, on her wall?
Pictures of them, together? Statuses full of confessions?
Haruka didn’t dare to find out. His eyes traveled down.
The page was created more than three weeks ago, apparently, and it somewhat explained how
they organized themselves without letting Haruka know. That is to say, behind his back.
Because they never showed anything out of ordinary on their regular walls. This one, though,
was full of Nagisa’s blabbering, occasionally interrupted by Rei’s short comments, or Rin’s
complaints.
All of them seemed to be about plans on what to do, or where to go. Sightseeing and stuff.
The last post was from yesterday evening.
Y’all! We landed at Narita twenty minutes ago. Can’t wait to see you tmr. Night-night, guys!
The pain was immediate, and like a mattock it hollowed within.

It petrified, so he could barely breath. Haruka drew in air in a vain attempt to push it away.
No chance for it, though.
Five minutes later hot water was burning maps onto the skin of his body, sensitive lips and
eyelids, and found its way into his ears. That’s how he liked it. Only sounds he heard were
those of the immediate world around him, distorted further into dull whines and moans. The
water was a miracle of nature, for sure.
It used to soothe literally anything that he kept obsessing about. But that was before. Now, all
he could do was stay under the surface for as long as possible, hope that the burning in his
lungs wouldn’t come and draw him up again.
Join. Maybe. Decline.
Haruka decided against any of them. Picking the first would make him look too eager to go.
Second and third too offended to go. None of it would do, he thought.
The whole thing about the invitation made him wonder, though. Considering that what
Nagisa had told him through the phone was in direct conflict with the fact that it was him,
who added Haruka to the group after the three weeks of its existence, it was reasonable to
doubt what his friend thought about Haruka’s intelligence. Not too much, apparently.
Well, well.
He could barely afford to add a seizure of self-confidence on the fucked-up list, couldn’t he?
“Hahu?”
The sound of his own name came in distorted, but it was enough to bring him back to air, and
his senses as well. Makoto. His friend stood in the tiny bathroom and wore a guilty face.
“Sorry for bothering you, but…” Haruka watched him fiddle with the rim of his shirt.
Makoto cleared out his throat. “You know, we’re supposed to meet them in an hour.”
Now were they?
He didn’t recall any post of that content on the page, so they had to agree on the meeting by
other means. How the hell was Makoto expecting him to know that, then? Never mind. He
leaned his head against the wall and firmly shut his eyelids. He had exactly zero intention on
going anywhere at the moment.
“What is she doing?”
“…She’s been in your room since the morning. I don’t know. Maybe she’s sleeping.” There
was a beat of silence before Makoto’s soft voice filled the small room once again. This time,
it was barely a whisper. “You could have said something. I didn’t know… I didn’t have an
idea how bad it was.”
It didn’t take a scientist to figure that Makoto was still talking about his loving mother. Rin
was now a topic too hot for handling. He sighed, exhausted.
“It’s fine. Makoto?”
“Yeah?”
“Close the door behind you.”
There was a creak as old wood moved with much effort, but where Haruka anticipated a click
of a lock, there came nothing. When he opened his eyes, Makoto’s long figure was still there,
face turned towards the door.
“I don’t want to pressure you, Haru. But I think you should come today. Or at least
tomorrow’s dinner. It’s not… it’s not that Rin doesn’t want to see you. I think… it’s… just
complicated.”
Thanks, but no thanks.
“Have fun, Makoto.”
In the mist that gathered above the water Haruka’s eyes closed again, and he pulled knees up
to his chin.
Don’t go without me.
Tell me if they’re together.
***
“Alright, we’re done for today. Get out! Except Nanase. You.” The coach pointed towards
Haruka, lying on the mattress with hands folded behind his head, panting heavily. “Another
hundred.”
Well .
There was exactly zero chance the coach would listen to any explanation Haruka could have
offered. What did it matter that it was not his fault, right?
He rather closed his eyes and wiped the sweat off of his mouth with the back of his hand. The
truth was, though, that he’d rather spend the whole night here than go back home. Sitting at
Makoto’s table and staring off into the distance, while his ears were oversensitive to any
sound that would come from the next room, was not an ideal way to spend Monday evening.
Or any, for that matter.
The only worse scenario could’ve been meeting her somewhere within the tiny space of the
kitchen, or common area. Since she came he had no moment of his own, and it was starting
to take its toll. He needed his own space. Craved it, could not function without it.
Not that he and Makoto would fight while sharing a place, no. They never did.
Yet it, at the same time, didn’t mean everything was okay between them.
And now that Makoto spent all his free time who knew where, laughing with them, hanging
out with them, having fun with them, being between the walls of his room had become almost
unbearable.
Haruka’s phone lay turned off deep in a drawer of Makoto’s table for the whole Sunday. Yet,
as he was leaving for training at noon the next day, his eyes involuntarily wandered to the
door to his own room.
Was she still sleeping?
And, completely against his own will, he had to wonder.
What was it with her?
Was she alright? Was she sick? Or was something else happening?
Who knew? But the thought squeezed his guts in an unpleasant way, made him take his shoes
off, listen behind the thin wood, and, at last, fish the phone from the depths of its shelter.
'What ifs' haunted his mind the whole train ride to the school.
The strange feeling didn’t leave him at peace for the whole day. And now he didn’t know
what to do with himself. Because, each and every time he remembered, he dreaded looking at
the lit up display that he’d find something from them—like Nagisa pushing him into coming
along, or Makoto’s concerned How are you? —and, at the same time, didn’t dare to not look,
for she might be in a need of something.
How ironic that even after everything he still felt obligated.
What a good son he was, wasn’t he?
It was way past eight when Haruka finished the last push-up session and was released to go
his way. He hoped beyond measure that the fact that he survived through it obediently, and
without a single word right to the very end, would be satisfying enough for the coach. And
the whole vengeance thing would be behind them for good.
He walked, spent and beaten like perhaps never before in his life, through the spaces of
emptied locker rooms. There was nothing to do to postpone checking for missed calls again,
no one to talk to—not that he’d done it normally, but maybe tonight he finally had a reason
to, Haruka mused and reached for the locker.
Yes, the universe had some kind of twisted sense of humor as of late.
Matsuoka Rin, 19:32
Come to dinner, Haru. Please.
Haruka sat down on the bench, suddenly too heavy to hold his weight alone. A punch
between his eyes would’ve hurt less than those five words.
Why? Why did the man have to do that?
Why?
Was he really not getting how fucked up this whole game was?
Had this been some kind of a movie, then maybe, maybe, this sudden turn of events wouldn’t
have been that much of a surprise; Haruka wouldn’t have been caught off guard like a little
boy. But, as life went, he’d bet everything he had that Rin wasn’t that cruel. That he’d,
eventually, give up on toying with Haruka and let him be.
Not a chance, it seemed.
And if it wasn’t for the burn that suddenly appeared at the back of his eyes, maybe Haruka
would’ve kept his face straight. But there was no one to see. No one to hear. No one to
pretend for. He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Yet he couldn’t let go.
Because what were tears, dripping onto the tile floor, going to change about the fact that he
had become someone’s punching bag?
He hated this.
He hated it so fucking much.
Once upon a time all he’d ever wanted from life was to be left alone. Lying in the bathtub,
hidden between the walls of an old Iwatobi house, all alone. It would’ve been fine, it
would’ve been okay.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been exactly happiness, but it would’ve been enough. Just enough.
Up until he’d come, returned from the distance Haruka could never reach on his own and
changed everything.
And now the only way to spend life was to suffer through the hell he was living in at the
moment, and it so wasn’t worth it. It really wasn’t.
So where was the sense in that, twenty minutes later, Haruka was running through the
evening chill in the direction of the station, hair still wet from the shower, blood running
through the pulsing veins like a subway train?
The only thing he knew was that he had no other option.
Because he was too much a goner.
Then, in a parallel world Haruka’s heart had gotten lost, he stood in front of the crowd and
Rin’s hand was entwined in another one.
And when the vibrant blue eyes turned his way, he realized it was not what he’d been
expecting all that time, and instinctively took a step back.
Chapter End Notes
I know, I know. Still no answers, only more questions. But we’re slowly getting to the
more entertaining chapters, trust me.
Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Soooo, guys!
I really wanted to post this yesterday, but this chapter is way too long, and it took me
AGES to edit it into a readable state. Like always, I’ve read it thousand times over, but
you know how it is - I seem to be blind to my own typos. This one is still not betaed, but
let’s hope that the next one will be. Yay!
Now, to the point!
This one is "little more conversation, little less action", but I hope I’ll make up for it
towards its end ;)
And, yes, I wanted to say, guys, feel free to comment, comment, comment! You can’t
imagine how much it means to me to have some feedback from you. It’s an enormous
boost for my motivation, as well. :)
Now, stop talking, and let’s get down to business. Enjoy!
Between two beats of a runaway heart, Haruka became only sure of one thing.
This was not Rin.
Or, rather, it was not the Rin he knew.
Haruka’s feet came to a sudden stop where the gap broke within the crowd, lungs gasping for
oxygen after the long run from Otemachi station, and his eyes inadvertently turned towards
the red stain burning among the dozens of people.
Yes, there was something terribly wrong with the sight, and it was not only an unknown girl
that held Rin’s hand.
Haruka held his breath, blinked few times and let his brain do the math.
Well.
He learned by now that there’s that one thing no one tells you when you’re leaving behind a
youth spent running around between low buildings of your small town, heading for the cool
big city life.
That in the city, the night is always bathed in yellow.
And it is always, always covered by pink, dull sky that stubbornly refuses to surrender to the
stars’ light.
No, they never tell you, and it’s not surprising at all. Because those who weren’t ’blessed’
enough to live there could hardly understand how it is to lay awake in your bed at 3 a.m. and
stare at yellow stripes, drawn on your wall by persisting street lighting that leaks through the
blinds. They keep your eyes transfixed and mind unable to get rest. And then those, who
were born under the skyscrapers, or live there long enough, naturally didn’t mind—they
hadn’t even noticed that something was wrong.
But for someone like Haruka Nanase it felt like living on a different planet.
And now, standing at the foot of a who-knew-how-many-floored building, strong artificial

street lighting and advertisements kept changing the colours of everything—hoods of cars
passing by on the busy street, leaves on the few trees that lined its pathways, even the skin
shade of the people walking by.
A normal person shouldn’t be flustered about such insignificant things, though.
Unfortunately, to the eyes of someone who let himself submerge into the mechanics of
drawing or painting, it meant difference as big as the world itself. Because once you’d
understood delicacies of colours, brought your eyes along the shapes of things around you, it
was impossible to go back.
And even though Haruka never thought for a second that what he did with pencils during
lonely sleepless hours could be called art, he knew he saw the world around differently.
Because he could hardly look at something without analyzing its shapes, angles, curves. His
brain kept counting individual parts, observed the way they were connected, or analyzed from
which direction the light fell. It never failed to prepare a mental image for later purposes.
Even if he scarcely put it down on paper, it usually stayed there.
It was not a surprise then how easy it was to notice the littlest of a change.
Like, for instance, how the red hue of Rin’s hair, usually so special and inimitable under the
daylight, looked bland and hollow as he stood within the tight group of people. How freshly
cut his hair was, brushed back with every single hair on its exact place, instead of its usual
messy way. It should’ve probably looked cool, or sexy, or something.
To Haruka it looked plain stupid.
Rin was definitely not the only one standing on the busy street, but Haruka could hardly see
anything else. His brain refused to pay attention to the rest of universe in more than rough
contours. There were cars honking on his left as he was crossing the road. Over there on his
right, it must’ve been a pretty bad quarrel as people yelled at each other.
Was it his name flying through the suddenly electrifying air?
Haruka’s legs moved unconsciously, and until there was barely fifteen meters dividing him
from the front gate of the restaurant’s building, his eyes took in all those littlest of things.
And then some more.
The details like how Rin seemed to be even taller than when Haruka’d seen him the last time.
How strange his face looked without an electric grin, plastered there since dawn to the sunset
that day they had parted ways. How oddly the new fancy clothes hung on his body.
Or how weird his long fingers looked curled around someone else’s hand.
Haruka’s eyes traveled slightly to the right and his eyebrow furrowed.
The fuck… who was she?
He’d never seen her before, never heard about her.
And during a single second that Haruka was willing to take his eyes off Rin he noticed how
symmetrical her body was, tall and lean with long limbs. Her long dark hair was shiny,
reflecting the lit name above the building’s gate. As if she could feel his stare, her eyes turned
in his direction and scanned the street.
He fought the need to hide behind the crowd again.
But she didn’t look right at him, though, didn’t even know who he was. And it was for the
best, because Haruka’s eyes were glued to her hand, and Rin’s hand, each entwined in
another.
So…
He got his answer, after all.
“Haru!” A yell fought its way through the street’s rumble right to his ears just as Makoto’s
face emerged from behind his back. “I called for you. Didn’t you hear me?”
A tone that Makoto used made Haruka tear his eyes from the pair and glance at his friend,
almost bewildered. Was he being scolded?
Like… really?
He lifted his eyebrows and Makoto’s angry expression instantly softened. Haruka watched
him hesitate, but then his long body moved and took a space between him and their group.
Now, this was going to be interesting.
“Makoto, what are you doing?”

He watched the panic reflect within the green irises.
“I’m sorry, Haru. But don’t go there, now. I…” Makoto trailed off as he threw anxious
glances over Haruka’s shoulder. “Trust me. I’m so sorry. Please. I’ll explain everything later.”
His voice carried an unexpected urgency.
“I thought you wanted me to come.”
“Yeah, I kn—”
“Haru-chaaaaaan! You’re here! Fiiinaly!”
Haruka knew it spoke volumes to Makoto that his stare never wavered, not even when
Nagisa’s small frame hung on his neck and yelled to his ear. For if there was one thing he
didn’t like, it was being ordered around. And his best friend knew it all too well.
“Thanks for directions, Nagisa,” Haruka said after a while, voice even.
Makoto’s face fell and his eyes filled with resignation as Haruka let himself be dragged
forward by an overexcited blond.
“No worries, Haru-chan! Let’s go, you get to meet the girls!”
“Nagisa…” Makoto’s weak voice followed them, but slowly died out in the noise of the
street. Nevertheless, it made the blond look back.
Haruka would’ve sworn that when, at last, Nagisa’s face turned towards him and threw a
smile his way, it was way too false even for him.
“Come on, they’re waiting.”
It was a good thing Rin was keeping his distance and held his girlfriend away for as long as
possible. Haruka was sure he was not doing it consciously, but it gave him a chance to get
himself together before he stood there, in front of the newcomers. Nagisa clung to his right
shoulder, and even if Makoto only stood silently close to his left arm, their presence helped.
Rei’s surprisingly somber face emerged from behind Rin and also took place at Haruka’s
side.
The simple gesture showed Haruka belonged with them, and it felt somewhat easier.
“Haruka-senpai, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Rei.”
This was almost fine. Having his old friends close was so nice that he wished to forget how
they lied and wanted to avoid him.
“Congratulation on your graduation,” Haruka added, and Rei nodded, sad smile playing
across his features.
“Thank you.”
“Now, now, Haru-chan! Don’t forget about our guests!”
As if on cue the blond girl that he knew from the Skype call stepped closer and smiled softly.
“Hi. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Jane Anderson, Rin’s roommate. We’ve been
introduced already.” She bowed slightly, and Haruka fought the urge to reciprocate the smile.
Her voice was gentle and he liked the sound of it.
There was another thing that he liked, though.
As her head lowered, the cascades of blond waves fell around her face and hid it underneath
them. Haruka watched, transfixed, how the light danced on the glossy locks. It was
artistically beautiful.
She looked up, probably wondering what took him so long, and sighed. Then her eyes moved
to the tall girl next to her.
“I thought I was getting better at this.” She straightened and shrugged, while the mischievous
smile played on her lips. “Never mind. It’s nice to meet you in person, Haru. You don’t mind
if I call you Haru, do you? Rin calls you like that all the time and I don’t think I can get used
to something else now.”
“No.” Haruka said, not even aware in what language he was speaking. “I don’t mind.” Jane
obviously understood as her smile widened, so he let it go.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t know Rin was standing there all along as Jane was speaking, no.
Or that he wasn’t aware of the proximity. He was, all too well, actually. The girl’s mouth
moved, but he was hardly able to catch a word or two. But the decision he took was definite.
Don’t look at him.
Haruka narrowed his eyes in effort to bring his attention back to Jane’s rambling.
“It made me so happy that you’ve found time to come with us. We’ve been told how busy
you are. But I’ve heard a lot about you and I wanted to see if all that was true.”
She did?
What was it? What did he tell her?
The look in her eyes said she did not miss that something was happening inside of him, and
he hoped she was not the kind of person who would dig into it. Haruka’s eyes snapped to
Jane’s right, where the unknown girl let go of Rin’s hand and stepped forward.
“I, unfortunately, can’t say the same, but nevertheless…” She trailed off and he couldn’t
decipher the way she scanned him from the head to toe. But she was not smiling anymore. “I
was told I have the same eyes as one of Rin’s friends, and it seems to be you.”
Well.
If there was something that Haruka didn’t want to hear at the moment, it was that the two of
them had something, anything, in common. He felt his muscles contract, and Nagisa’s hold
on his shoulder intensified.
They were not the same. How ridiculous though.
He looked to the side, annoyed.
But, notwithstanding how much Haruka loathed it, it was rather hard to deny how familiar
the girl’s appearance was. And it was not because he’d seen her anywhere before.
It was, damn, because standing face to face with her like this intensified the feeling that he
was looking right into a mirror. She was almost of the same height too.
Someone behind the girls’ backs snickered, and when Haruka glanced up, he knew the night
could not go any better.
Fuck.
Yamazaki Sousuke?
What was he doing here?
But of course, he was also Rin’s friend. Why would he not be here, bothering Haruka with his
existence, right? Right?
The guy’s stupid face showed quite a high level of amusement over the scene he was just
privy to. Yet, Haruka somehow knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. Once the idiot was
there, he could look forward to some pleasant times.
“Well,” the girl sing-songed, when the silence stretched fairly awkwardly and looked back at
Rin with a meaningful tip of head.
Don’t look at him.
Don’t look.
And when Haruka’s eyes slipped against his will, he saw what he wanted and didn’t want to
see at the same time.
Rin was not looking at him.
He just stood there with a blank face, looking slightly standoffish as he slowly pulled his
hands out of his pockets and ran a hand over the slicked hair. It was probably just an act to
appear much more collected than he was, but Haruka had to admit that he, also, found some
charm in it. Rin did not meet his eyes even when he waved between them, gesture too casual
for Japanese manners.
Not that Haru cared about such things.
“Haru. Meet my girlfriend, Kawasaki Anna. Anna, Nanase Haruka.”
Rin was speaking in English as they all were up to that moment, and it was obviously for the
sake of girls’ understanding. And Haruka had to wonder.
Was she Japanese?
She looked like one, as he himself did, Haruka though bitterly, though her English bore a
strange, not at all Japanese accent.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kawasaki-san,” he said and watched how her blue eyes widened in
sudden surprise. He couldn’t tell if it was genuine, or not.
“Oh! Isn’t it cute?! I just love it when people learn a few phrases so good it almost sounds as
if they’ve mastered the language! You see.” She turned back to throw a look Rin’s way. “I
told you we’ll manage to talk somehow.”
Haruka loathed her instantly.
Rin’s lips become a thin line as he placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently in the
direction of the entrance.
“Let’s go. The reservation is for nine.”
She threw one more smile his way and turned to lean into Rin’s touch. This time, there was
nothing friendly in her eyes.
Haruka felt Nagisa extricate from his arm and the blond looked up to stare at him. The
cheerful face was gone. It appeared as if he was on the verge of saying something, but it
vanished like a charm. Nagisa grinned and darted in the direction of the restaurant.
Now this was becoming weirder by the minute.
What the hell is happening?
Yes, the girl’s appearance was definitely unfortunate, but it was no reason for his friends to
act like this. Was it because they felt guilty?
Yeah, that must’ve been the reason, he decided.
But it didn’t help that Makoto and Rei remained oddly silent the whole time until the three of
them reached the glass door and entered the building, and the same went for the horribly
awkward moments of waiting for an elevator. Nagisa’s blabbering in broken English was all
that filled the building’s entrance hall. Both girls were smiling politely and nodding here and
there as if they actually cared for what he was saying. Half of it was hardly understandable,
anyway.
Makoto stubbornly avoided meeting Haruka’s eyes, and rather stared at his own shoes. But he
always moved close to him, wherever he stood, or walked; never once wavered from his side.
It oddly reminded him of a bodyguard.
Haruka searched out Rei’s eyes, but all he got was another sad smile. He felt his guts twisting
in knots that threatened to break the somewhat calm expression he was able to hold up until
now.
The very last moment before the elevator fell open with a soft ding, Haruka looked up and
Rin’s dead serious stare, reflecting on its mirrored door, burned holes into his face.
Something was very wrong with all of this.
Of all the possible scenarios how the evening could’ve been going, the universe, for some
fucked-up reason, decided to choose the worst. And it was not only because Rin was seated
across the table, his back facing the glass wall of the restaurant with the oh-so-famous view,
so anytime Haruka wanted to look elsewhere than into his platter, his eyes met red orbs.
It was also because Yamazaki chose to sit right next to him, effectively pushing protesting
Makoto aside. Haruka was dead sure that the man didn’t do it so they could share Christmas
stories.
And when he leaned into Haruka’s side, ignoring the appetizer lying on the table in front of
him, the suspicion had been splendidly proved.
“I didn’t know Nanase dolls also came in female versions.” Yamazaki kept his face straight
as if he just asked about the weather outside, and went on. “At least they seem to make them
with more than one facial expression.”
Haruka had a sudden need to find out how chopsticks in an eye socket looked.
He rather stared into his Seafood Carpacio, which probably cost more than three full
mackerel dishes he would’ve had for dinner usually. At least he was not paying for it, he
thought. Well, yes, it was quite a gesture from her to invite all of them. She claimed that since
the place to eat was apparently her choice—on her father’s recommendation—it was only
fair.
Only Haruka couldn’t help the feeling that he didn’t belong to a place like this.
And, for some reason, it also didn’t make him any happier that she seemed to be on the
wealthy side.
Unlike him.
And yes, they all talked, and talked, and talked. Left side of the table with Yamazaki,
Makoto, and Rin kept exchanging news, heavy baritones of their voices sending thrills
through the air. Although, from what Haruka heard, Makoto didn’t seem to participate much.
It was obvious that Haruka wasn’t needed in the discussion, so he kept his mouth shut and
ate.
And then the right side spoke mostly in English, even though it was apparent that Nagisa was
trying to teach Jane a few Japanese phrases. Even if Haruka apparently spoke the language
better then all of his friends together, it was too damn convenient that Anna and the rest
didn’t know. Just let them think he doesn’t understand.
Now he could just sit and listen.
And, mainly, to try to slow down the gallop in his chest. He closed his eyes for a little while
and exhaled deeply. It was just a matter of one or two hours anyway, wasn’t it? He could
stand it for that long.
It’s not that bad.
Then he’d be happily stressing about everything in the safe shelter of a warm futon.
The sounds around him danced in a soothing cacophony. Clicking of silverware; a distant
woman’s laugh. Someone placing an order at the next table; the children passing their own,
running and screaming.
Just calm down, damn.
You don’t care that much.
And after a while it was better.
Only when he opened his eyes again and looked up, all calmness he had roughly won was
instantly gone. Because Rin’s stare was unwavering, and irritatingly observing. And because
there was something deep in his eyes, something misplaced, and indecipherable.
Haruka knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have looked, shouldn’t have stared back, shouldn’t
have even reciprocated. But how was it even possible when those eyes were everything he’d
been seeing in his head for god-knows how long.
Why is he looking at me like that?
And since that moment Haruka knew he lost again. Because every little thing Rin did was
sickeningly captivating: the way his right eyebrow twitched when someone around the table
said something especially stupid; how he never once missed to look up just as Haruka’s gaze
turned his way. Then, especially, how his hands quivered while trying to get parts of cold fish
into his mouth.
It made Haruka feel somewhat better that, at least, he wasn’t the only one nervous here.
But it helped nothing with the reality Haruka lived in. Because there was always that
girlfriend, which belonged to the man that kept throwing looks his way.
Was Rin even aware of what he was doing?
Because, yeah, those looks were sad, and burning, and penetrating at the same time. They
were everything but friendly.
And they were awakening a strangely hot sensation inside.
Is he trying to flirt with me with his girl sitting next to him?
The though made something definite click inside of him.
He had to get away, as soon as possible. He was not going to be someone’s toy here.
Just find some excuse and take off.
Someone on the other side of the table cleared his throat, and Haruka’s eyes snapped to Rei.
Was it only him, or did he just shake his head a little?
And if it wasn’t for Yamazaki’s silent chuckle that reverberated in his chest, he wouldn’t have
even noticed an awkward silence that suddenly dominated the table. The idiot leaned into
him again.
What the hell happened?
Haruka knew his eyes must’ve had a panic written in them when he searched the people
around the table for an answer. But everybody seemed to be completely absorbed by the
content of their platters. Rin’s eyes met his for a second, and it was obvious he wasn’t aware
of anything strange.
But it was there, nonetheless.
Could it have been that… they noticed them.
When Nagisa’s voice finally pushed forward, a warm feeling of appreciation that at least
something was happening quickly turned into one of dread.
“Well, Rin-chan. Tell us how you and Anna met. I’m sure everybody would like to kno—”
The sentence stayed unfinished, though, as Nagisa’s voiced suddenly turned to a yelp. Haruka
wouldn’t have wondered if someone kicked him under the table.
Well, he so didn’t want to hear anything about how the lovebirds found each other.
He waited and waited for the words to come, to definitely tear asunder the rest of his hopes.
Yet there was nothing. And when he looked up, Rin was still staring right at him, not even
noticing someone asked him a question. His eyes were strangely clouded.
“Well,” Anna’s impatient voice interrupted the silence, and she put down chopsticks. “I have
no problem telling you. I’ll keep speaking in English, if you don’t mind, since almost
everybody here speaks it. And someone could translate for the rest.” She threw a
contemptuous look Haruka’s way, as if he didn’t know she was talking about him. “You see,
me and Jane have been best friends since we were children. So when I moved to Sydney at
the beginning of March, I naturally spent a lot of time at her place, and she at mine. That’s
how I and Rin met. And then”—she smiled sweetly at Nagisa—“I became quite fond of this
amazing, caring man. So when he asked me out, I had no objections.”
“That’s nice.” Nagisa’s voice lacked its usual cheer when he spoke, but he went on,
nevertheless. “Well… there’s one thing I’d like to ask you, but you don’t have to respond if
you don’t want to.”
“Go on.”
“Are you Japanese? Because I can’t see you as a born Australian.”
Anna actually laughed at that, even if a bit somberly.
“I’m half Japanese from my father’s side, half French from mother’s. I was born in Paris, but
grew up all around the world. Mostly Sydney, though. So, no, I’m definitely not the born
Australian.”
At last, just as Nagisa’s admiring Oh flew around the table, Rin’s eyes were gone. As if she
could sense it, Anna’s expression relaxed an inch and she smiled.
“So you can speak French?”
Haruka knew it was futile, but he wished she was ordinary at least in something.
Bad luck.
“I can speak pretty much all the most commonly learned foreign languages. French, English,
German, Spanish and a little bit of Chinese. Though, I’m not fluent in the last one. Oh, and
Japanese, of course.” She laughed, this time lightly. ”But enough about me. Tell me
something about you, guys. I’ve heard lot about your swimming friendship.”
Swimming friendship? What the actual fuck?
And if it wasn’t for Yamazaki’s hot breath that filled his ear all of a sudden, startled Haruka
might’ve held the track of his thought.
“Sorry, I thought she was only your female version, now I see she’s also upgraded.”
“Shut. Up.”
He leaned slightly away from the man and placed the fish of the main course, which
miraculously materialized before his eyes on the table, into his mouth. When the hell did they
bring it up? Everything was starting to be too confusing.
And it was also quickly becoming unbearable.
Was it possible to stand up and leave now?
Because if sitting here and listening to all of this bullshit wasn’t some kind of twisted self-
torture, Haruka didn’t know what it was. It fucking burned even on a normal day, when Rin
was far away in a different country, doing god-knows-what with his new girlfriend, and that
’something ’ Haruka had created in his head seemed to be even less real than a dream.
But this, with him sitting a mere meter apart, well this was plain masochism.
Haruka felt his insides turn upside down, bathed in rage that ascended from the depths of his
stomach.
Because after everything, despite everything, he was still sitting here, making an idiot out of
himself. While, after they were done here for today, Rin was going to go to bed with her.
He hated it all. Hated how Rin’d changed on the outside, and mostly how he hadn’t changed
a bit on the inside.
For he was, apparently, still the same kind of player as before.
But when Haruka couldn’t stand it a second longer and opened his mouth, Rin’s reaction
shocked him more than the sound of his own voice, which suddenly silenced the table.
“What happened to your hair?”
Haruka watched Rin’s tense expression turn into an openly sour one as he pushed himself off
the table and reached under it for chopsticks that fell out of his hand.
“You alright?” Anna’s face was an epitome of tension.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rin said, and when he continued his voice was rough. This time he was talking
to his plate. “It’s called style, Haru. Not that you know something about it, as it seems.”
The hell.
Now, that was a pretty shitty thing to say, even for him.
Haruka’s eyes ran around the table. Almost everybody tried to look elsewhere, except her. Of
course, Anna was looking right at him, her gaze unpleasantly penetrating.
Damn you, idiot.
Who do you think you are? Does having a fancy girl, wearing fancy clothes, and sitting in a
fancy restaurant make you any better all of a sudden?
Not that Haruka usually put much effort into looking stylish, but it was hardly possible to
catch up to the people dressed-up to the occasion of eating in a high-class place like this, and
Rin must’ve known it. He was, after all, running right from training.
He pulled on a sleeve’s fabric so the little hole on the seam of his hoodie wouldn’t be that
visible, and lowered his head.
“You know, Rin, sometimes you could try to filter what comes out of your mouth before you
open it.”
Haruka’s head snapped to the left and stared, amazed. But Yamazaki only dug into his meal
as if nothing of the weirdest kind just took place. Haruka almost laughed. Because if there
was one thing he would’ve never expected in his life, it was Yamazaki taking his side. He
blinked few times, but it didn’t make any more sense even as seconds ticked by.
Rin looked affronted, when Haruka finally turned eyes his way, and he obviously decided to
avoid any eye contact for the rest of the evening.
Thank god.
But the relief of the realization didn’t last too long. Since Nagisa had made a decision to keep
the conversation alive at any price, and was currently entertaining the table with old stories
from high school. Not that anyone was having too much fun at the moment. For some reason
even the dead fish on the table looked more lively than the atmosphere around it.
Haruka tried to catch at least something of Nagisa’s never-ending jabbering.
“…and his swimming style was so captivating that Rei instantly decided to join the team and
try to learn to swim the same way.”
Haruka felt an irrepressible urge for face-palming.
Why, Nagisa?
“Yeah and Rei’s never forgotten to call Haru-chan’s style beautiful. Because it is! Dang! It
might be the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see in the sport’s world, girls. It’s a true art.”
Stop him, someone, please.
“Nagisa, that’s enough,” Haruka muttered into his plate, but it was obvious he was heard,
because Anna’s face turned to him once more.
“Why, Nanase-kun? I’d love to hear it, actually.”
“So!” Blond’s voice chirped along. “We used to call him a dolphin, because he’s so natural in
the water as if he was born in it.”
“Nagisa.” The blond ignored threatening in Haruka’s voice and continued, unfazed.
Yamazaki beside him chuckled, obviously having good fun.
“Why, Haru-chan? It’s true, nonetheless. And I’m not saying anything bad about you.”
Haruka sighed, suddenly very tired. He almost missed the smile that was thrown his way. It
could’ve hardly been faker.
“Well, I’m not sure Nanase-kun would be too excited about the nickname, if he knew about
the true nature of the animals you named him after. Or perhaps he already knows. No?” She
went on, when Haruka simply shrugged it off. “According to my knowledge they tend to
quite aggressive behavior, and are far from their public image. They are considered violent
predators with a predilection to baby-killing and rape. I’ve read somewhere they sometimes
mount other males in order to assert authority.”
Well.
One thing was sure. She didn’t like him, alright.
“Oh. Is that true?” Rei’s gentle voice cut the silence. “I’ve never heard about it.”
Haruka watched her nod and continue eating as if she said nothing at all.
Well, it was just about time to leave.
He waited a polite few minutes—so it wasn’t terribly obvious—excused himself from the
table, and actually made an effort not to run to the bathroom. Although when he reached the
sinks, his legs were shaking, and knees weak. And if it was not from the stress, then
definitely because of the pair of hands that pushed him into the cubicle, just as he was
opening its door.
“What the… Nagisa?!”
“Haru-chan! Listen to me, now.”
“What are you doing here? Get out!” Haruka yelped as blond's body clung onto him.
“I’ve been waiting all night for this chance. But I could never get you alone. I’ve got
something very important to tell you.”
“You can’t tell me outside? I was going to—”
“No!” The urgency in Nagisa’s voice was hard to miss, and his cold-sober face added to the
seriousness. “They think I’m at the bar. They wouldn’t let me tell you…”
A horrible premonition grabbed at Haruka’s guts.
“Tell me what?”
There was a beat of silence before the blond inhaled deeply and locked his eyes with
Haruka’s.
“Why Rin didn’t want you to know he was coming.”
If a heart could be stopped on the spot, then Haruka’s certainly was.

He didn’t remember coming out of the cubicle. Didn’t remember walking out of the
bathroom, nor did he know how he found his way to the table.
The first thing his mind registered when his brain kicked in was that he was standing there,
behind Yamazaki’s back and searching for Rin’s eyes. And he did find them, he did.
Why?
Although it took two glances before Rin’s eyes definitely rested on him, and understanding
filled his face. He hunched under Haruka’s stare, as if he awaited a punch.
Why did you do that?
“Is that true?” he whispered into the clamor of the room. Rin blinked few times and gulped
down, even if he could’ve not possibly heard what Haruka was saying.
And for the first time in ages he felt as if all those things that kept accumulating inside of his
chest for months might fly right out, uncontrollable. They’d been knocking on the inner wall
of his chest for long enough, and now fought their way through his throat.
An unstoppable force threatened to destroy him and everything around.
“Is that true?!”
The table fell into instant silence once again as his yell echoed through the restaurant, and
sound waves reverberated from the thin wine glasses. Yamazaki turned in his chair, face
characteristically serious, and he was not the only one.
Haruka distantly noticed that few other tables were looking their way.
“Haru.” Rin’s voice was thick with something indefinable. “Stop yelling.”
The chair under Yamazaki creaked as he was looking back and forth between them with a
frown.
“What the hell is happening here?”
But the haze chaining Haruka to Rin’s eyes, who now refused to reciprocate the gaze, was too
strong to make place for anything else.
Why are you doing this to me?
To yourself?
Haruka had used to think he could make it through everything. That being on his own for
such a long time—to never have anyone to lean onto, to ask for help—made him somewhat
stronger.
That he found the way to deal with life. To take what it brought calmly and without
inappropriate emotions accompanying it.
Oh, how wrong he was.
“So?” Yamazaki was obviously losing his patience when nobody around the table was keen
to cut the tension. “Is someone, anyone, going to open their mouth?!”
“I dare to say.” Rei’s silent voice echoed against his plate, at last. “That Haruka-senpai just
gained knowledge of the fact that Rin-senpai has quit a swimming career and changed
schools to attend a police academy in Sydney.”
If there was a tense silence before, then now there was plain vacuum. Yamazaki blinked few
times, as if he was trying to decipher the words, and cleared his throat.
“What?” His voice was hoarse.
“I said—”
“I know what you said! And I’m asking—what?!” Haruka watched as Yamazaki’s bulky
figure turned fully towards Rin’s grumpy face. “What the fuck, Rin?! Is that true?”
“Gentlemen, please.” The waiter materialized from thin air, and looked them down with a
scolding expression. Haruka ignored him, and so did the rest of the table.
“ It’s not your business, Sousuke.” Those words were probably not what Yamazaki expected
to hear, because he shot up from his chair. His hands turned into the fists.
“The hell it’s not!”
At least Haruka was not the only one who didn’t get to know the news. And maybe, maybe,
in a different scenario, it would’ve helped him to deal with the strange burden that was born
in his chest and was quickly growing into enormous size.
But nothing could change one fact, which Yamazaki was obviously too slow to grasp.
“What the—Wait…”
Well, finally.
“Police academy in Sydney? What are you gonna do with such schooling back in Japan?”
Exactly…
Because Rin was not going to do anything in Japan. Ever.
He was going to stay there. Live there. Marry the girl. Make her kids. Work there as a
fucking cop.
And forget the miserable life Haruka was left to live here.
“Gentlemen.” The waiter pushed himself into Haruka’s field of vision and placed hand on his
shoulder. “I’m very sorry, but I am compelled to ask you to leave.”
Haruka shook off his hand. The man was not allowed to touch him.
“I will.”
Now, when it didn’t matter anymore, it was almost too easy to take a step closer and look
right into the Rin’s eyes. They never left him during the dinner, but now, ironically, were
skimpy for looks. Rin didn’t look up, not even when Yamazaki’s baritone roared and huffed
and swore. Not ever.
Being asked anytime before Haruka would’ve sworn that he never could find the right words
when they were needed the most. Or any, for that matter. And even if he did, he would’ve
rather bit his tongue and walked away.
But he was so fed up with Rin’s stupid decisions. And, to be honest, with Rin himself.
He took another step forward and pointed at Rin’s face.
“You’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.”
And maybe there was something broken in Rin’s face when he finally looked up, but Haruka
only turned slowly and walked away. No, it didn’t matter anymore.
Rin was already gone, even if he was sitting only a few meters away.
Now…
It was time for a reality check.
It was time to let go.
The foyer was quiet, apart from a distant mumble that here and there escaped from constantly
opening doors as personnel walked in and out. The marble floor that Haruka stared at was
covered by massive carpets, making even those distant sounds somewhat duller.
Numbers above elevator’s shiny door were changing, too slowly, never fast enough. But he
was in no hurry.
Where would he go, anyway?
What would he do, once he got away from this room, from this building? The night sky
outside was most likely still the star-less, unchanged face of nowadays’ life. There was
nothing up there to lean his eyes onto, nothing so basic, so primal that Haruka would’ve
exchanged everything he had at the moment for one damn star above his head. It would’ve
reminded him of home.
Of times when everything was dull, but safe.
Where he didn’t have to dread every single minute that was yet to come, because there was
definitely something fantastically screwed-up waiting behind the corner. Why had he even let
himself feel so much?
Why did he, for god’s sake, have to stand here, when even the painful beating in his ears and
skull couldn’t outshout all those annoying things he felt?
Hadn’t it been far, far better, to stay in the confines of the previous hollowness?
Was there ever an answer?
The numbers were finally closing to thirty-six, and he mechanically moved, limbs heavy with
tiredness. With a soft ding doors fell apart, Haruka took a step forward and counted.
Only two more steps and I’m in.
One more.
He pushed the button for the ground floor, leaned his forehead against the cold metal inside
and let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He had exactly 36 floors down
to get himself together, and walk out of the elevator as a normal person. Haruka hoped
beyond measure that nobody decided to use it, because he needed it now. He fucking needed
it.
How possible it was, though, that all of those offices on the lower levels were not being used
at this hour? This was Tokyo, after all, and he knew he had no idea of the working times in
big companies.
Please, just let me be alone for a bit.
The doors were finally closing. But where Haruka anticipated a soft swoosh of the hydraulic,
there came a silent yelp and then his arm was being grabbed. The world spun around too
quickly to catch up, and then, of all the things he’d been expecting at the moment, he was
met with a pair of burning eyes.
“What were you thinking, making a scene like that, huh? Fucking moron.”
The words were harsh, but the voice was unexpectedly gentle and trembling. It bore nothing
of the poison it was probably meant to deliver.
“Rin.”
“Don’t ’Rin’ me. You can’t just run off like that, Nanase.”
“Let go of me.”
Haruka tried to free himself, but Rin’s fingers were curled around his arms in a vice grip. But
he was not going to let anybody, least of all Rin, manhandle him. He was not the doll that
Yamazaki called him to be.
He was a human, and he knew how to fight.
“Fuck, Haru. Stop! You hear me?” Rin’s voice was hoarse and low, and it was so damn unfair
that Haruka was not immune against its charm even at a moment like this. “Haru! Dammit.”
And, at last, he was free of the grasp. Rin’s hands fell to his sides, his face bewildered,
stunned. Haruka was aware how stupidly he must have looked now, panting heavily, trying
desperately to catch his breath. He retreated to the corner and closed his eyes.
Just don’t fall down. Stand!
“Fuck, Haru. Don’t make that face.”
While he was not aware of doing anything except trying not to fall apart, it was pretty
possible that the poker face he usually wore was gone.
Sometimes it was simply too much to hold your ground.
“Come here, idiot.”
And then they were around him, the arms suddenly reaching and pulling him close, until his
face was completely hidden in the warm fabric of Rin’s expensive jacket.
There was nothing in the world that Haruka would’ve expected less. Standing on the tip of
the mountain he was dead sure he was going to fall down and find himself on the bottom,
alone in the dark.
Because this was exactly what he was so fucking scared of the very first moment, when Rin’s
unexpected return shook him to the core. The night that he emerged from the dark in the old
swimming club, all Haruka’s fears, which lay dormant for so long, immediately came alive.
He tried to fight it. Damn if he didn’t.
But Rin’s stupid smile always kept finding its way back in. And now the two of them were
here, at the end of the road, where all Haruka had ever dreaded turned into reality.
The reality that felt like a slap across the face, the one that was unyielding and cold. Always
too cold.
Either in an empty old house that no one wanted to share with him, not even his own blood;
in a slowly cooling bath taken without actual reason, or in arms of the man, who didn’t feel
the same.
He understood though, in a sudden moment of lucidity, that there was no other way. This was
bound to happen from the start.
It brought along a strange form of resigned calmness.
“Stop shaking,” Rin whispered somewhere close to his ear.
“I’ll stop, if you do.”
A soft chuckle reverberated Rin’s body and flew against Haruka’s own chest like a bullet.
“Idiot. They won’t ever let you in again, after the scene you made.”
Haruka just shrugged it off. It was strangely difficult, being wrapped up in another human
being.
“I can hardly afford the tea there, anyway.”
“Me too.”
This time the laughter was genuine. Haruka firmly shut his eyes and pursed his lips.
Did he really want to smile?
Now, of all times?
But, unbelievable as it was, he did. He wanted to let the grin happen, to fall apart completely.
And most of all, to stay wrapped up like this forever, in the warmth that seeped through his
bones like that one night in an Australian bed.
Because Rin had that kind of effect. The stupidest power to make everything look shiny and
brand new. Fine, even. Just… alright.
To make it look like it was actually okay to stand like this, to relish in a warmth that had
never belonged to Haruka, nor it ever would.
Because Rin had never been his, and never would be.
And it was hardly Rin’s fault. He’d never made any promise, had never confessed, or done
anything at all except sending a few ambiguous e-mails. Haruka knew that Rin was never
under any obligation to come back, to swim with him, or anything else. He had every right to
live his own life as he saw fit.
But it didn’t make the pain go away.
“So you don’t like my hair.” There was a smile hidden somewhere in those words.
“No.”
“Dumbass. Did you even look into a mirror before you opened your mouth? Yours looks like
a nest.”
And then, somewhere between twenty-first-or-some floor and the ground, something had
changed for good in a tiny space of the elevator. Because Rin laughed giddily, and his fingers
ran through Haruka’s hair in a playful manner.
“I was running late,” Haruka whispered into the fabric.
“Damn you were.”
No, he had never felt an actual need to say the words. Least of all nice. Never, up until now.
They kept pushing out, and Haruka had to use all the strength that was left in him to hold
them down.
I missed you.
I miss you.
I missed you. So. Fucking. Much.
And then it happened. Haruka didn’t know why, nor did he particularly care at the moment.
His nose found his way to the uncovered skin on Rin’s neck, and he inhaled, deeply. The
tremor, which ran through the other body was impossible to miss.
There was no trace of chlorine in the scent. It was only fresh laundry, some unknown
fragrance, and underneath it all a small hint of something natural, something Rin’s.
He pulled away an inch, suddenly terrified of what would come next.
He anticipated a constipated 'Haru' to fly through the air and then being pushed away like a
plague he most likely really was. And that would’ve been the better scenario. Haruka rather
avoided to think about the possibility that what might be flying through the air was actually
Rin’s fist.
What would he be doing then? Should Haruka let him beat the crap out of him? There was no
way he could escape from the elevator now. His eyes snapped open and searched the
numbers.
Sixth.
But then, like in a slow-motion movie, the hand that ruffled his hair moments ago was on his
neck and pulled his head back, right under Rin’s chin. The other one curled around his waist
tighter and its fingers drew little circles on Haruka’s lower back.
Rin exhaled slowly into his hair.
The hot breath stuck to his skin.
It was… fucking amazing.
It was the best he’d felt in ages. Perhaps ever.

Only when the elevator’s doors fell open at the ground floor Haruka realized that really, no
one stopped them on their descent. And while he didn’t actually think it was possible, it
happened.
How strange, indeed.
Rin’s arms slowly extricated themselves from Haruka’s body and he stood there, looking out
to the building’s lobby. It was bursting with life, people meandering around like ants. Few of
them waited outside of the elevator, and they threw odd looks Haruka’s way as he walked out
of it.
He turned around, but Rin’d gotten lost between the bodies, probably on purpose.
It didn’t matter.
There was nothing to be said, anyway.
The door closed, and he walked out the front door into the surprisingly warm night.
***
“Haru-chan, listen to me. Rin didn’t want you to know he quit swimming because he was
afraid that you might do the same. You know… like you did before… But you’re not, right?
You’re not gonna stop swimming. It’s your whole life, Haru-chan!”
The TV was on, showing someone quarrel with some others over nuclear power; Haruka took
notice of every third word. There was something with utility firms, shareholder’s meetings,
and other bullshit.
He didn’t give a single fuck.
His mind was elsewhere and it ran wild each time he tried to do something meaningful. A
strange boulder in his stomach grew with every passing minute.
The apartment was so silent without Makoto’s presence.
So Rin didn’t want him to stop swimming. What a ridiculous thought, wasn’t it? But at least
as Nagisa delivered the news, Haruka finally understood what Makoto was talking about
yesterday, when they tried to talk.
How are you dealing?
You’re not going to do anything… like before, are you Haru?

But why would Haruka stop swimming? It was not like before, when he thought he was the
cause of Rin’s decision.
Now it was definitely not Haruka who made Rin change his mind.
So the question was then: what was it?
Try as he might, he could never imagine his life devoid of water.
But the truth was…
There was that one time when Rin opened up and said, voice shy and full of smile, that he
admired him. That he needed to see him there, right in front of him, so he could move
forward.
Wasn’t it, after all, all the same for Haruka?
He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest of a worn-out chair. A distant
woman’s voice echoed through the wall behind his back. Was his mother talking with
someone over the phone? It sounded like a fight.
“Haru?” Makoto’s voice battled with murmur of the TV.
Wasn’t he back too early? The dinner couldn’t have been over yet. It was barely an hour after
Haruka left the building.
Never mind, he thought. It made him feel better, and he desperately needed something to help
him forget the night. Even Makoto’s silence was better than nothing.
No, it was no time for conversation, but Haruka wanted, no—needed to fill the emptiness
around.
Funny, wasn’t it?
How honest he could be with himself, all of a sudden. Because there was a time, and not so
long ago, when he’d never have admitted to such a lousy itch.
But any thoughts that ran through the synapses of his brain was abruptly cut, when Makoto’s
long figure entered the common area.
And he was not alone.
Nagisa?
Rei?
What are they doing here?
Haruka’s feet, so far lying on the low coffee table, fell to the ground as the trio stood in front
of him. His eyes danced from one to another. Makoto’s face was closed, lips pursed and eyes
burning. To be honest, Haruka’d never seen him looking so angry before, not even once.
Rei didn’t meet his stare, but rather placed hand on Nagisa’s skinny shoulder and pushed him
forward. It wasn’t too gentle, as well.
“Talk, Nagisa.”
What the hell’s happening now?
But Nagisa’s lips seemed to be uncharacteristically sealed when he looked right at Haruka,
eyes glittering with unshed tears.
“But… Mako-chan, Rei-chan, I already told you, it’s not the time, yet.”
“I’m not interested in your twisted plans anymore, Nagisa.” Makoto’s low voice sounded
way too pissed off for anybody to argue with him. “We’ve seen where they all lead. I’m not
going to stand in front of Haru and pretend that nothing’s happening. Speak, now.”
Nagisa moaned and his shoulders hunched, head on his chest.
“I can’t, Mako-chan! You don’t understand. You never have! I haven’t done anything bad!”
And of all the possible things that Haruka expected, Makoto grabbed Nagisa’s arm and shook
him.
“You haven’t? You haven’t?! You did see what happened tonight, didn’t you? You’ve hurt
Haru, and that’s not something that a friend would do. Ever.”
“Makoto.” Haruka’s voice tried to cut the nonsense. Without any success, though.
Nagisa turned to face the tall man, and pointed a finger right into his face. The height
difference between them amplified with the closeness, and it looked almost funny. Haruka
stood up from the chair, sighing.
“You don’t ever say again that I’m not a good friend to Haru-chan!”
“Nagisa.” Another try, this time a bit more successful as the blond’s distressed face turned to
him. “Would you just finally tell me what’s happened?”
“I…”
Haruka watched him fighting some inner fight, and let him take his time. At last, Nagisa
exhaled tiredly, eyes shut. It was almost there, the blond was obviously so close to letting
anything that Makoto and Rei wanted him to say out.
But, of course.
Then her majesty walked in, as if she had an in-built clock for bad timing. In her hand a plate
full of content of his fridge. It did seem like mackerel pieces, didn’t it?
“Oh, boys having a party?” she said in voice bored, unaffected.
They all fell into silence thicker than udon noodles, looking elsewhere but at each other. She
wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully in Haruka’s direction.
“Seems like fun.”
He leaned to the side so he could watch her back as she retreated behind the door to his room.
Did she, or did she not, just walk into his room with food?
This had to be a bad joke. Didn’t they have a kitchen table for that purpose?
“Haru-chan.” Nagisa’s weak voice brought him back from his reverie. “I think you might
want to sit down.”
Chapter End Notes
The first who will guess the name of the restaurant they dined in wins a brand new car
radiator antifreeze, shipped immediately, package included.
I really am a sadist, am I not? I do feel like one, though, after writing this...
Anyways, guys, I have some other work to do now instead of a writing, so the next
chapter won’t be next week, but the one after.
See ya!
Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Hi, guys!
I’m back, and so is the Friday’s dose of drama, drama, drama.
Maybe you’ve registered that rating went up, but don’t get too excited, so far it’s only
for language.
The feelings are running wild in this chapter, so there’s a LOT of swearing. You’ve been
warned. ;))
So, let’s cut the crap, I’ll let you read.
Enjoy!
There was only one thought running through Haruka’s mind as he stared into the darkness of
a hallway.
You got to be kidding me.
You got to be fucking kidding me!
“What do you want?” Haruka spat, and while his mouth pursed into a thin line, he realized he
was not controlling his voice anymore.
But who would’ve wondered, right?
How the hell did he even know where they lived?
“So much for the warm welcome, dolphin.”
The fuck?!
The pain in the knuckles of Haruka’s fingers, curled around the door, intensified with every
passing second that he and the idiot stared at each other. But Haruka was not willing to give
him any chance to get inside, which was apparently what Yamazaki decided to do. He moved
slightly to the right just as the man did, and the same repeated a second later to the other side.
The man narrowed his eyes at him.
“So. Are we gonna go discuss it right here, or will you get your shit together and let me in?
Because we can play catch-up here for as long as you wish, but there’re much more important
things happening in the meantime.”
“Like what?”
Why was he even bothering with him and didn’t let the door’s wood say hi to the moron’s
face was beyond him. Yamazaki sighed and rubbed his face, obviously annoyed to the brim
by Haruka’s thickness.
“I don’t have time for this.”
Haruka had always thought that he was decently built, and that he had no reason whatsoever
to feel threatened by any other man, had it come to a potential fight. But in a matter of few
hours this was already the second time that someone grabbed on his arms and moved him
around like he was a little weightless boy.
He didn’t fucking like it one bit.
“What the—?! Put me down, idiot!”
And so he did. Yamazaki’s fingers released their grip on Haruka’s arms, and his soles touched
the ground with a soft thud.
Did that really happen?
Could it be that Haruka, for real, was lifted into the air and set aside as if he was but an
annoying bug flying before Yamazaki’s eyes? In his own home to add?
He felt his hands turn into a hard fists, blood running furiously in his veins.
But anything Haruka was ready to do, or say, was quickly forgotten as the idiot walked away
completely unfazed and headed towards the voices coming hushed from the common area.
“You—where do you think you’re going?” Haruka’s voice didn’t quiver this time, but the
same unfortunately couldn’t have been said about his insides.
Yamazaki didn’t show any signs of hearing and just walked on.
Shithead. Fucking stupid shithead.
The idiot was unstoppable when he decided on something; like a damn wild pig, Haruka
thought. He sighed and, although barely keeping his fingers from curling around the man’s
neck, followed after a while anyway.
Whatever the moron wants, let’s get it over with.

He just hoped that Yamazaki didn’t come to continue his little fun-talking he was keeping up
all dinner, because Haruka was in no mood for mocking right now.
And it wasn’t only because Yamazaki showed up uninvited on his threshold, effectively
fought his way in, and bothered him with anything his slow, stupid mind came up here for,
but mainly because Haruka was starting to lose patience with the universe. It seemed to be
determined to not let Nagisa say something important.
He needed to get Yamazaki out as soon as possible.
And preferably right through the window.
“Hey, Backstreet boys.” The idiot’s baritone rang against the walls of the small room, already
filled to the brim with people.
“Ya-Yamazaki-san?” Rei’s surprised voice made Makoto lift his head from between his
knees.
Haruka watched how a flicker of surprise shot through his best friend’s burning eyes. Makoto
was obviously just as happy to see him here as Haruka was. But if he knew one thing about
his friend, it was that Makoto was way too polite to show Yamazaki the door, even in the
state he was in. That didn’t go for anyone, though.
“What?!” Nagisa’s shocked voice flew into unexpected heights when man’s giant body
entered his field of vision. “I’m not going to speak with him around! I’m not!”
Yamazaki seemed unfazed by the outburst, though, and threw himself into the only
unoccupied chair. Haruka watched his friends blinking in confusion, apparently waiting for
something to happen. Yet if they expected to get a reaction, which would actually get
anywhere close to decent, he knew they were all wrong.
“Calm down, midget.”
There you go.
“Wha—?” Nagisa’s mouth fell open.
“Well, if you’re discussing your first times, I’m really not that interested. But I dare to say
you’re talking Rin instead, and that is very much my business. So.” Yamazaki smacked his
thighs as if ending any further insignificant jabbering, turned his face towards Haruka, and
scanned him from head to toe. “What exactly are you planning to do?”
Now, that was something new. And it wasn’t like Haruka didn’t immediately know what the
idiot was talking about, but he just couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
Did he really come here to plot against his best friend?
“About what?”
“About what.” Yamazaki murmured with a hint of bitter surprise in his voice. “I don’t know?
A third world’s poverty, for instance?” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “Of course
about Rin, dumbass. So, once again. What are you gonna do?”
Haruka folded his arms on the chest and leaned against the wall behind him. Yamazaki had
his annoying personality set on default, that much was certain from their previous encounters,
but it was still a little surprising how much of a prodding and manipulative fucker he really
was.
This was, after all, not their thing to deal with.
“Nothing,” Haruka said, and in the silence of the room, filled only with murmur of the TV,
his voice stayed even.
And if for nothing else, than for putting that confused expression on the idiot’s face, it was
really worth it.
“How, nothing?” Yamazaki’s eyes swayed from one man to another. “How does he fucking
mean it—nothing?”
Haruka closed his eyes, realizing that he really should’ve been more careful about his wishes.
Mere minutes ago he didn’t want to be alone, and this was what he got.
Just. Amazing.
“You should go home. It’s late.”
And you’re not welcomed here.
“Look.” The big man turned his blazing eyes towards him once again. “I didn’t come here to
befriend you, nor did I come to be thrown out by you like a bag of kittens. I am here to save
Rin. And you”—he pointed finger Haruka’s way—“are going to help him.”
To save Rin?
To help Rin?
What the hell was he even talking about? Because, yeah, Haruka didn’t have to like Rin’s
decision, didn’t have to agree with anything that he did with his life—and damn if he did—
but that was just about everything he could do.
Rin was completely, utterly, absolutely free to live as he himself wanted. Haruka’s body
straightened up, and he turned towards Makoto’s room.
“Good night.”
“Stop right where you are, asshole!” Yamazaki jumped out of the chair, his face ablaze with
rage. “So this is all? This is it? You’re just gonna let him fuck up his life, and not even move
a finger. You?! Who yelled at him in a packed restaurant? What the fuck happened between
then and now? It’s been barely two hours!”
Haruka’s feet came to a sudden halt. He glanced at the man, suddenly aware of the way the
big body shook in distress. A single vein pulsed on his forehead.
But there was next to none explanation he could provide for his own reaction earlier this
night. How could he, for god’s sake, explain something he himself didn’t understand one bit?
But he tried, anyway.
“It’s different.”
“The hell it’s different! How is it different from the time when you needed his help, and he
went out of his way and took you to fucking Australia, so you could find your stupid dream,
or something? He spent a hell lot of time, energy, not to say money on your idiotic problem!”
“You know about it?” Against Haruka’s will his voice came out weak and trembling.
“Of course I do, dickhead! He’s my best friend, for god’s sake!”
Why was the world suddenly spinning around? It felt as if a tornado came and swept the
whole room with everybody inside. Haruka’s hand flew up and caught the wall right in time
before he could fly away as well.
When Yamazaki’s voice reverberated his heart again, he must’ve been standing right behind
his back. Haruka turned his head, but couldn’t find anything to say.
“But when it’s Rin that needs something, then…” Yamazaki’s words were bitter. “Then you
just don’t care. Right? You selfish mother fucker.”
What did the idiot expect him to do?
What do you want from me?
I, of all, can’t do anything.
Yamazaki turned to the others when he seemed to give up on the hope of getting any answer
and lifted his hands in the air in a gesture of a complete bewilderment. “I can’t—I can’t
fucking believe this! And you call yourself his friends? You, who apparently don’t give a
single fuck about him? You, who let him make the stupidest decision of his life, and hell we
all know he is good with those. Damn. You just gave up on him…” His voice trailed off, and
Haruka suddenly felt a strange feeling forming in his stomach.
He didn’t want to let the man make him feel guilty. He didn’t, but it wasn’t that easy, standing
face to face with him like this. Yamazaki’s disgusted looks were making him feel small and
weak.
He needed to get him out of his place. Now. Haruka’s mouth almost opened in a vain attempt
to find something to fulfill this desire, when a small voice filled the room.
Haruka’s eyes shot to Nagisa, as did all others’.

“I—I…” The words were too silent to be understood. And when Nagisa finally looked up and
met Haruka’s stare he must’ve realized it, because he took a deep breath and repeated, this
time louder. “I didn’t. Give up. On Rin.”
Haruka blinked few times, not understanding why Nagisa was telling this to him. But the
blond’s stare never moved to any of their friends.
“No, you sure didn’t.” Makoto’s voice was bitter as he rose from the armchair and walked to
the window. Rei’s face fell even more.
Nagisa gulped down, his eyes flickering from Makoto’s back, through Rei, right back at
Haruka. He was really afraid, wasn’t he?
“The thing is, Haru-chan, that this is, sort of, what I wanted to tell you about. Before
he came.” The blond’s chin pointed towards Yamazaki’s tall figure. He was obviously not
over the nickname yet.
“Just spill it out, midget. I don’t have a whole night.”
“Cut the crap, you…”
Haruka found it almost amusing how even in a situation like this Nagisa wasn’t willing to
lower to Yamazaki’s speech level.
“Haru-chan. I… Just let me tell you everything, okay? Right to the very end. Because some
things might look different from outside. It might—”
“Nagisa.” Haruka’s voice interrupted the stream. “Just tell me.”
“Fine, fine. W-well it all started few months ago. I used to talk to Rin-chan a lot, you know. I
called him a few times a week, just to know how he was. It was a regular thing, nothing out
of ordinary. And then—I can’t even explain it properly—I just realized something was
wrong. Maybe he wasn’t his usual self, maybe he hadn’t been talking about swimming that
much, I don’t know really.” Nagisa trailed off, staring into the distance, as if he was looking
back in time. He blinked few times. “So, I just couldn’t let it go. I bothered him many times a
day, I know he really, really hated me then. But, at last, he cracked.”
Haruka forced himself to breathe, but it was too damn difficult, facing the words he so
dreaded to hear. Nagisa lowered his head and went on.
“That’s how I came to know what all of you know now. He was not swimming anymore. I
couldn’t believe it. Rin-chan, not swimming? That was insane! Since the very first time I’d
met him as a child, swimming was all he ever talked about. The relays, and that Olympic
dream of his. But he didn’t want to discuss it.” Nagisa’s voice suddenly became desperate.
”Not even once he let me say what I wanted. Anytime I started on it, he just cut me off,
saying that the decision was definite. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t study, it was hell. I needed to
share it with someone, but he didn’t let me. He said he was not ready to tell anyone, and that
especially Haru-chan couldn’t know, because he was finally in the 'big swimming world', and
that no one could tell how he was going to react.”
Haruka felt his blood run cold. Yeah, Nagisa had already given him this pretty piece of
information within the small space of a bathroom cubicle, but hearing it now, within the
whole context, the words finally rang true.
So that’s how it was. What all their friendship—or anyhow you call it—came to be, now.
A pity.
With a strong wave of nausea and embarrassment Haruka realized that not only must Rin
have known about how important he was in Haruka’s life, but he also didn’t think him strong
enough to live his life properly without him.
Immense exhaustion grabbed on his body and dragged him downwards, under the surface of
the black sea. The one that he came to know all too well by now. The one that few short
seconds in the elevator managed to pull him out of, although for a little while only.
Because, however stupid it was, however untrue Haruka wished it was—maybe Rin wasn’t
that far from the truth.
Falling deeper into the dark waters, he almost missed Nagisa’s next words.
“I told Makoto, anyway. And then Rei. They were shocked, but they both said the same thing
in the end. That it was Rin-chan’s right to decide. I was alone in it! S-so. I made a decision
for myself! I was gonna do something about it.” Nagisa was looking right at Haruka now,
eyes full of tears. His voice was breaking. “I knew I couldn’t go to Haru-chan, because I
knew him. I just knew he was gonna say the same thing as they did, once he had the chance
to digest it, to calm down. And I needed him to say exactly what he was thinking. So… I just,
I just made you do it, Haru-chan.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“How, made me?” Haruka’s voice was gravel.
He so, so didn’t want to know. But it was too late to go back now. Nagisa swallowed hard.
“It took me a few weeks to convince Rin-chan to arrange this meeting. I used some low
blackmailing methods like 'we haven’t seen each other in ages', 'your friends don’t mean a
thing to you anymore' and so on. He didn’t want to come, I guess he felt guilty about
avoiding you, but I succeeded somehow. But I had to promise I was not going to talk about
that, and to not tell you or the others anything.”
“But you did,” Haruka muttered.
“But I did. Yes.”
A silence fell onto the room.
Why was he not continuing? Now, when he’d already gone so far. Why wasn’t it still making
any more sense than before? Where was the point in all of this?
Only when Yamazaki’s voice cut the silence, something finally clicked.
“You want to say… that that dinner was all planned so Nanase would snap?” Nagisa nodded,
a sole tear running down his cheek. “And all those stupid questions about Rin and the girl
were just to get him closer to the edge?” He laughed, amused. “You’re a genius, actually!”
But this time, the blond shook his head.
“No, it was to get Haru-chan away from the table. Mako-chan wouldn’t let me close to him
so I could tell him about Rin.”
Haruka’s eyes inadvertently slid to his best friend. Makoto sighed unhappily and looked to
the side.
“They didn’t know everything, Haru-chan. Just bits here and there. Mako-chan was
convinced you already knew about it all when you were on your way to the dinner. He got
really angry when he found out about the whole plan.”
“Haru.” Makoto’s soft voice interrupted Nagisa’s stream of words. “I’m not looking for an
excuse. I should have dragged you away on my back, if that was the only way. I’m sorry. But
I was really convinced yesterday when you said that Nagisa called that he’d told you
everything. I don’t know. Maybe a wish was father to the thought.”
Nagisa stepped closer to Haruka, making it impossible to not look him in the eye.
“Look, Haru-chan. I am perfectly aware of how it all looks now. But I never, ever wanted to
hurt you.”
“You only made me embarrass myself in front of everyone.”
You manipulated me.
Lied to me.
“But it was supposed to be the only thing you had to sacrifice! A little bit of your dignity. For
a friend!”
Haruka sighed, extremely annoyed.
“Nagisa.” He turned, not able to look at his friend anymore. “I think you should go home
now.”
“But, Haru-chan! That’s not all. You don’t know it all yet! Listen to me, okay?” Nagisa hung
on his arm, and if that wasn’t the last straw, then he didn’t know what else could be. Haruka
shook him off, but the blond was unrelenting. “Listen, now. The plan was never to avoid you
during our stay, okay? To be running around, and not telling you a thing! You think that
Makoto would’ve ever agreed to something like that?! Of course not! Why do you think that
we are here in Tokyo now, of all times? When I have finals around the corner, and almost
everybody has something else to pay attention to?! This could wait for summer, after all. Rin
is not going to start new school till September.”
What should he do? However it was, Haruka couldn’t bring himself to just throw Nagisa out.
This was an impossibly annoying situation, but Nagisa was still his friend. No matter what.
He shook his head, trying to put his thoughts into a semblance of order.
“Because it’s golden week starting tomorrow?”
Haruka’s question apparently took Nagisa aback.
“Well… yes, that’s also true. But it’s because of something else.” Blond’s eyes mirrored his
own. “Because you’ve been just as unhappy as Rin has been the few last weeks. I couldn’t
watch it anymore than I could stand Rin’s abandonment of his dreams.”
Haruka felt the blood leaving his face.
What?
It didn’t make any sense, nonetheless.
“Don’t you understand? I put aside all my things and did everything I could to push Rin into
setting as soon a date as possible. Do you get what I’m saying, Haru-chan?!”
No, he was not.
“That doesn’t really matter, Haruka-senpai.” Rei’s face was dead serious when he interrupted
their confusing conversation. “But Nagisa assured us that had he some sort of plan. He
begged us so we would trust him with it. And we did, unfortunately.”
Tentative fingers curled around Haruka’s wrist. Nagisa smiled sadly, and when he spoke, his
voice was soft and silent.
“Please don’t see it as if I used you, Haru-chan! You’ll always be one of my best friends, no
matter what! And I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. But when I was thinking about
it, I knew that there, on one side of a scale was your anger at me, but on the other was the
whole of Rin’s life! And I hope with all I have that I just haven’t lost you as a friend Haru-
chan. But if I did, well, then it’s a price for saving someone. It’ll break my heart, but… it’s
my punishment only. This is my sacrifice for my friends. And I think it’s still a fair trade.”
A deep, amused laugh echoed in the room, sounding oddly inappropriate within the somber
atmosphere.
“Wow, so you’re actually smartest of them all, I can hardly believe it… I’m impressed.”
Haruka didn’t even look Yamazaki’s way. All he could do was stare in front of him, above
Nagisa’s shoulder.
What was there to say? To do? Because of course Nagisa had used him. How else could
anyone put it? There was nothing Haruka could think of that would made him feel better
about this. Yes, Nagisa was his friend. And, yes, Nagisa betrayed him. Played him like a
figure in a game of chess. Yes, it was for some reason the blond saw important.
But this was not something that would make it look better in Haruka’s eyes. On the contrary,
to be honest.
Finally, he inhaled deeply and rubbed his face.
“You had no right to do that to Rin. No one has. He is free to make his own decisions.”
Nagisa opened his mouth, but the voice got stuck in his throat. With a start they both looked
at Yamazaki’s crunched face.
“Damn he is! And it would be all good, if only this decision was his. But it’s not! This is not
Rin!”
Haruka’s eyes stayed glued to the blue irises, searching for an explanation. The man was not
making sense again.
“Whose it is, then?”
“Hello?” Yamazaki threw a hand into the air. “Have you met Miss Intelligence and her little
puppy? She’s smarter than all of us together, hell. Has him wrapped around her pinky. I can’t
say I understand it, cause I’ve always thought Rin was stronger, but, anyway.”
“That’s what I think, too!” Nagisa turned his body towards the big man, his face suddenly
alive and full of anger.
Makoto turned from the window and shook his head.
“That’s just a theory, Nagisa. You can’t know for sure.”
“But on the contrary! I’ve told you already, Mako-chan, that her uncle is a big fish at NSW
police! Rin told me himself!”
“What the hell’s NSW?” Yamazaki asked, apparently irritated that he wasn’t following the
track of conversation.
Rei cleared his throat, but Haruka was too damn tired to even turn his head.
“It’s New South Wales, a state of which Sydney is the capital.”
And when Yamazaki’s stupidly embarrassed 'Oh'' flew throughout the room, Haruka turned
off his ears. They apparently went on quarreling about this and that, but to him it felt like a
thousand miles away.
Haruka sighed, exhausted. Why couldn’t they just get the simple truth that Rin had decided
for something else, something—perhaps—better? Was it so hard to understand that Rin had
simply moved forward? Had forgotten them?
Had forgotten me.

Maybe Haruka didn’t fully understand it, didn’t see it through immediately after hearing of
what kind of life Rin had chosen. But as he had stood there, in a restaurant full of people, a
waiter’s hand on his shoulder, it was just enough to look at Rin’s right side, and everything
had become crystal clear. It was her, indeed, that much was true. But not in the sense his
friends thought.
What was so difficult to grasp?
I was not enough.
I was not what he wanted.
But she—she was everything.
That was the only reason why Rin had turned his life upside down, had abandoned everything
he knew before. Because if there was someone crazy enough—or emotional enough—to do
such a stupid thing for love, it was Rin.
He must love her so much.
The air struggled to get through Haruka’s constricted throat. Why was he doing this to
himself? Let’s get it over with; honestly, he could hardly stand another ten minutes of this
pain.
“Hey, Nanase.” Haruka startled and his eyes blinked with an effort to focus as Yamazaki’s
fingers snapped in front of his face. “Zoning out, again?” The idiot turned to Makoto,
pointing at Haruka’s face. “Are you sure it’s not a medical issue? I wouldn’t be that sure.
Maybe some pills would help, actually.”
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
“Yamazaki-san.” Makoto’s reprimand was way too soft for Haruka’s taste.
He breathed in, and then out. It was time to end this. He stood straight, arms falling to his
sides.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s his girlfriend, and the rest is not our business.”
Haruka turned towards the door again. This time he was decided to not let anyone stop him.
They had to understand that what they were doing was the blind way. Whatever they intended
to do was only going to turn against them. And he was not going to be a part of it.
“Sounds funny, coming from your mouth.” Yamazaki was mocking him, that much was
certain. For what, that was another question, though.
Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
It’s a trap.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Damn.
“What do you think it means? You’re asking as if you weren’t there tonight.” Yamazaki’s
giant body fell into the armchair again with a tired moan. “I might be too old for this.”
Why was he never making sense? Haruka felt muscles of his jaw constrict. But, at last, the
idiot continued.
“You know, Nanase, I’ve always had my suspicions about Rin, but up until tonight it never
crossed my mind this nonsense could be mutual. I blame it on your zombie attitude.”
There was a beat of silence, filled with a sudden dread.
What?
What?
“What?”
“What, what?!” Yamazaki exclaimed, irritated. “Everybody, including Rin’s own woman was
scared shit the two of you were gonna jump each other’s bones right there on the table. Fuck
you and your'what'! If we’re gonna 'what' each other, then tell me what the hell happened
when he left the table, running after you like a fourteen-year-old girl desperately in love?
Because he came back redder then his hair, and I’m not even gonna start about the state of
his'style', or how he named it.”
What?
…?!
It doesn’t make… what?!
Haruka didn’t know if his mind was spinning, or just stopped working altogether. He tried,
and tried, but nothing came up.
What the hell just happened?
What did he say?
This must’ve been some sort of a surreal dream, and he was going to wake up very, very
soon. Haruka realized all of a sudden that it was not the world shaking, but his own body. His
hands shot up, covering his face from their pitying stares.
So.
Does that mean his secret’s out?
A soft touch on the shoulder startled him.
“It’s okay, Haru-chan. We all knew already.”

And if those words weren’t the least that Haruka expected to hear, than he didn’t know what
else could be. He looked at the blond, bewildered.
“Nagisa.” Makoto’s soft voice carried the traces of deep concern. Rei stood up from the wall
he was leaning on up to the moment.
“Yeah. This is really not the time to discuss this."
“The hell it’s not!” Yamazaki’s baritone roared throughout the condo. “This is the best
fucking time of all. Because he”—the big man pointed towards Haruka, but spoke to the rest
instead—“he is the key. He is the fucking key to Rin! No one else can do anything at this
point.”
What the fuck was the idiot talking about?
“He’s right, Haru-chan.” Nagisa’s words were heavy and tired. “And I knew it from the start.
It’s what I’ve been working with in my plan all along. That’s why it couldn’t have been
Mako-chan or Rei-chan tonight.”
“Yeah.” Yamazaki nodded. “I get what you’re saying. Anyone else yelling at Rin would be
just a waste of time. But this way—”
“I don’t—don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haruka said, voice weak and unsteady. He
registered Makoto’s figure getting closer, but he lifted his palm, stopping his best friend.
I’m fine. I can do it.
I hope so, at least.
They both, the idiot and Nagisa, were completely insane.
“I—he didn’t even want to see me.”
Did his sentence make any sense? Haruka barely knew where his mouth ended and air around
started. But apparently it did, because Yamazaki’s bulky figure was suddenly there, right in
front of him. He looked him down with serious gaze, and when he spoke, his voice was calm
and almost gentle.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know, Nanase. About Rin. He had it tattooed on his forehead
anytime he was around you. Of course he didn’t want you to know he was coming to Tokyo.
He didn’t want to meet you. But not because of what he told the midget.” Nagisa’s offended
'hey' didn’t faze Yamazaki a tiny bit. “It’s because he’s scared shit you’re gonna tell him
something that he himself knows all too well. That he’s making the biggest fucking mistake
of his life. No one else can do that. Hell, did you even see his face tonight when you
screamed at him? If that wasn’t fear then I don’t know what it was.”
“I—I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You and I are the only two people he’s afraid of. But even I knew he was
coming. Hell, I was supposed to meet him for beer like”—he looked at his wrist watch
—“fifteen minutes ago. And he was probably going to tell me anyway, even if the midget
didn’t break the news earlier. But you—he didn’t want to see at all.”
It’s too much.
Too much.
Make it stop!
“Well, if that doesn’t show how important you are, then I don’t what would. Nanase.”
Haruka’s eyes slowly rose and tentatively met Yamazaki’s. “He holds you on a pedestal that
no one, not even you, could get you off. Hell if I understand why, but it’s true, nonetheless.”
No.
It was not true.
They were all wrong. They were completely, absolutely, ultimately wrong with their
unbelievable calculations, and he had enough. He had enough of them. Of these lies that kept
starting that fire of hope in his chest again.
Could it be that Rin really…
That he too…
No!
He had to put a stop to it now, because he knew, he simply knew that he was going to wake
up from this dream, and he’d still be believing it, everything was going to crash down and
bury him underneath.
It was just enough how he had been fooling his own head all those months, exchanging e-
mails with Rin that never meant anything.
Now, if he wanted to get out of it with at least a bit of sanity, Haruka had to make a sharp cut
to all the stupid ideas.
They are not right. Period.
So he moved, first the right leg forward, then the left. Haruka leaned forward so gravitation
could pull him where he himself didn’t have the strength to go. Inch by inch he was getting
out of the room, away from the liars and manipulators, who tried to destroy him. In the back
of his mind he knew they were all looking at him, observing him, waiting for any wrong
move.
He just had to get away.

“Nanase.” Haruka startled even though Yamazaki’s voice was silent. “So… are you gonna
help him, or not?”
And in the moment of a complete confusion, all Haruka could do was shake his head.
“It’s too much effort.”
The silence that fell onto the condo was heavy and, without doubt, disappointed.
“But you know that once he gets on the plane back to Australia, you’ll never get another
chance with him, don’t you?”
And it wasn’t until much later, long after he unrolled his futon with crazily shaking hands,
and all voices dissipated within the nightly stillness of a darkened apartment, even long after
Makoto lied down on his bed, when he realized what exactly Yamazaki’s question meant.
Haruka lay there with eyes open, fearing to close them, for when he’d open them again, there
might be another day full of biting surprises.
Only when a soft sigh came from the direction of Makoto’s laying body, and fingers gently
curled around Haruka’s wrist, he, after overcoming the shock, realized how good it felt to
have his best friend back.
No, that’s not correct.
Because Makoto was never gone from his side in the first place.
And the thought made it somewhat easier to close his eyes in the dark.
***
When Haruka woke up, a soft light was falling onto the tatami next to his futon and Makoto’s
peacefully sleeping figure up on the bed. There were unfamiliar sounds coming from the
kitchen. He rolled onto his back and rubbed the sticky eyes.
Mother? Why isn’t she asleep?
He wondered, sleep still tugging on his eyelids, when was the last time that he was up before
his best friend.
Never, probably.
He listened idly to the banging of pots and pans, so unusual for their home so early in the
morning. And when an extraordinarily loud sound shook the condo, even Makoto woke up
with a start and a terrified yelp.
What the hell was she doing?
The two of them exchanged looks, but rather didn’t comment.
When Haruka entered the kitchen, she was nowhere to be seen, but the pots on the stove were
simmering, and an unknown smell filled the apartment.
And it felt… strangely nice.
When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, the kitchen table was full of food
he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. It must’ve been breakfast from all around the world,
which wouldn’t be that surprising, considering she and his father traveled a lot.
What was it all for, though?
Makoto was already seated when Haruka tentatively closed the short distance to the table,
and he looked up with mouth full of something that reminded him of a French croissant. He
smiled softly and patted the other chair.
“Sit down, Haru. Your mom will be here in a minute.”
“What is this?” Haruka asked, taking a place next to his best friend.
“She made it all for us. Isn’t it sweet of her? I’ve always loved continental breakfast. One can
never get enough of peach jam.”
Haruka pushed out a neutral 'hmm' and looked around for traces of mackerel. Not a one, of
course. He sighed, disappointed, and reached for the sliced bread.
Apart from Makoto’s chewing and an occasional bubbling sound coming from the stove,
everything was silent.
How come everything was so… calm this morning? Almost serene. After yesterday’s night
he’d anticipated to be tired after sleepless hours, to be buried under tons of murky thoughts.
But, unexpected as it was, he slept well, probably best in a long time.
So… they all knew now—about his'feelings'.
That was a piece of information that he’d yet need to digest, but, contrary to his expectations,
it filled him solely with something close to peace.
Maybe it was about time to tell them, anyway.
If only they’d stop with those stupid theories about Rin. It was hard enough to get over it as it
was. Their bullshit really wasn’t all that helpful. He sighed inwardly. Let’s hope Makoto
would leave the topic untouched, for now.
But just as he was trying his best to smear honey on the slice rather than his freshly washed
jeans, he felt Makoto’s curious stare on his face.
He should’ve known better.
“So… uhm. Are you not angry with me?” Makoto’s voice was tentative and full of hope.
Haruka shook his head and bit into the bread. He crunched his face, disgusted.
Hell it was sweet.
“No.”
Why would he be angry at Makoto? No, the only thing he was able to notice at the moment
was a rather happy feeling that at least one part of his life was back to its previous,
uncomplicated state. Makoto smiled shyly.
“That’s fine.”
They ate in a silence that was, for once, not filled with unspoken words, tension, or mutual
misunderstanding. There was only one thing that kept coming back to him, not wanting to
leave him be.
“Makoto?” The soft 'uhm' encouraged him to go on. “When you said… that time, you
know… that he made us promise, you were speaking of Nagisa?”
Makoto’s confused look should’ve been probably enough as a matter of proof, but he needed
to hear it, anyway. His friend stared at him, a piece of orange stopped halfway to his mouth.
“Of course I was speaking of—Haru,” he said, suddenly realizing what Haruka was asking.
“Don’t tell me you though I was speaking of… Rin. Oh god…”
Haruka nodded. Well, at least something was a bit clearer than before. Makoto scratched his
cheek, looking sheepish. At last, he laughed softly.
“Haru, hah… Don’t tell me you honestly thought, like for a second, that I would’ve favored
Rin—or anyone—over you.”
Haruka shrugged it off, feeling suddenly much lighter. His attempt to look uninterested
must’ve failed completely, because the squeeze of Makoto’s hand on his shoulder was strong
and his smile reassuring.
“Don’t be stupid, Haru-chan.”
“Am not.”
Haruka’s lips quirked into a smile of their own volition. And when they both laughed, it felt
so damn good, as if it had been ages since they last did that together.
“You know, Haru.” Makoto cleared his throat after a solid while. “Maybe you should give
yourself more credit. You know… with… Rin.”
“Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

Damn.
Why couldn’t he have just one peaceful morning without hearing that name over and over
again? It was starting to feel like a curse, actually. He sighed, and Makoto nodded lightly,
smiling.
“Sure. I just want to say one thing and then I’ll shut up.” Haruka looked up just as Makoto
pushed the rest of the third croissant to his mouth and chewed feverishly. “There’s nothing
wrong with these kind of feelings, you know? It’s nice, actually, to have someone you like.”
Haruka groaned, and rubbed his face, wanting to die on the spot. “There’s nothing to be
embarrassed about.”
Yeah, like really.
Was the man serious?
“He has a girlfriend.” Haruka tried his best to keep his voice steady. But talking about this
with anybody felt surreal. He guessed it was better with Makoto than anybody else.
“I know. I just… think you could give it a thought, that’s all.”
“What are you saying? You want them to break up?”
The tall man looked at him, eyes serious.
“All I’m saying is that maybe I’m starting to get what Nagisa was onto all that time. After
yesterday’s talks… I don’t know. You see, Haru.” Makoto’s serious tone didn’t make it any
easier to listen. “He, I mean Rin, hasn’t seemed to me to be very happy, lately.”
There was probably million and one reason for that, not a single of them being Haruka.
And he was about to say it out loud when Makoto’s eyes lifted and he smiled, courteous as
always. Haruka sighed.
There goes a good mood.
“Nanase-san, thank you very much for the breakfast. It must’ve been a lot of work.”
“Not at all. And call me Misaki.” Haruka’s mother sat down with the contemptuous
expression she wore as a second skin, completely ignoring Makoto’s horrified face. Haruka
would’ve laughed, if this wasn’t a situation more suited for crying.
“O-oh, okay? Well. If you insist, then… I…”
“Go on.” Haruka interrupted. “Everybody calls her so.”
And it was true. He couldn’t recall anybody that would ever call her anything other then the
informal 'Misaki'. Neither her co-workers, his pediatrician, nor even a man in the kiosk. As a
little boy he’d found it impossibly stupid.
Now it was, to be honest, one of the things he genuinely liked about her. But that was also
probably all. Because the moment she opened her mouth again, he remembered all the things
he genuinely didn’t like.
“So, Haruka,” she said, turning her small body completely towards him. “Tell me now,
exactly how much money your father and I give you monthly.”
Aah.
Fuck it…
Haruka fought the urge to smack his own face for being that stupid. He should’ve known the
breakfast was not a coincidence, nor was it a gesture of a declared ceasefire. She’d probably
finally opened her eyes for the very first time since she came here, looked around the little
condo they lived in, evaluated it according to her ideas of decent living conditions, and, of
course, found it insufficient.
So this was supposed to be a charity, was it?
He ran his mind over the contents of their fridge, and yes, there wasn’t much more than
mackerel pieces and a few cups of rice, but it was more a question of preferences than money.
Makoto usually didn’t like to eat anything heated, so apart from fruits or vegetables he
scarcely used the fridge, anyway.
“I thi-think I have to… eh. School’s starting sooner today. Excuse me.” Haruka looked up at
Makoto, who was apparently flustered and embarrassed for both of them. Hell, he himself
was way too used to these kind of manners to feel ashamed anymore. They both watched the
tall man as he was almost running through the apartment, right into his own room.
“Well?” She wasn’t letting it go, not by any chance.
He shrugged, annoyed beyond measure. Of course she didn’t have a clue.
“He’s covering the school’s expenses.” He hoped she did not miss the used pronoun.
She didn’t react, and Haruka wondered idly, if she was, by any chance, content with his
answer. It would’ve been way too easy, though.
“And? What else? How much?”
He sighed and stood from the table. This conversation should’ve been finished at least five
minutes ago.
“Let it go, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay,” she said, raising her voice. ”You don’t want to tell me that that is all!
You’re not telling me seriously that your father earns millions of yen monthly so you can
have everything, and you’re not having any of it! You’re not telling me this!”
Damn. He so didn’t like it when she yelled. There was a beat of silence, before he found the
right words.
“I don’t want his money.”
“You don’t want his money,” she repeated silently, obviously stunned. She waved her hand
around. “So what do you live off, then?”
“I’ve got a job. Which I’m just about to go to, actually.” Haruka felt her stare on his back as
he pushed the platter into the sink. Better leave it as it was now and get out, before she found
another entertaining topic for conversation.
And after he collected his things and left for the day, he realized that this was probably the
very first time in his life that he had managed to leave his mother speechless.
It felt amusingly good.
***
The water was cold and clear, brilliantly running along the skin of his palms, forearms,
shoulders. It tingled everywhere; it pushed against his body as he prodded it into a faster
motion.
A perfect, flawless, immediate relief.
If only he could submerge under the surface and reappear only when he decided, not his
lungs, or tired muscles. Then he could be lost forever in the blue calmness, which called for
him gently, as if in a dream. And then, maybe, he also wouldn’t have to deal with those who
used his name instead of a door mat.
“Nanase!”
Haruka’s hand shot up just in time to anchor his weight onto the handle of a starting block.
Was it just him, or was he really being yelled at more than usual lately? At least this time it
was not the coach scolding him for a fucked-up dive; which, by the way, was happening way
too often for his taste.
He pulled off his goggles and looked up at Hagino’s narrow face. He was chewing on
something, as he always did. The man motioned his head towards the other end of the
natatorium, pushed off of the block he was leaning onto, and straightened up to his decent
height.
“Hirai wants to have a word with you. Now.”
Haruka groaned inwardly, because, honestly, this was something he could’ve expected to
happen any day now, but he still wasn’t able to find a way how to deal with it.
Damn. The time has come.
And when he was standing under the stream of burning, scalding water falling onto him from
the shower head, he thought of a thousand and one things to say to Hirai, but none of them
could properly explain his decision about the Australian offer.
Nothing would do, unless I want to tell him the real reason.
When he entered the locker room, it was filled with other swimmers. And it wasn’t until
Hagino pushed his head from behind the corner, face horrified and eyes wide, that Haruka
realized how big a mistake he just made.
“What the fuck are you’re doing here, man?! I told you Hirai wants to speak with you.” The
swimmer’s voice was filled with genuine dread, and it made Haruka’s body hair stand up.
“When he says he wants to speak with you, it means he wants to speak with you now, like
that second!” Haruka jumped up from the bench, turning to gather his things. “Leave it be,
Nanase. Leave it! Just run!”
And so he did.
The last thing Haruka remembered before he darted in the direction of the stairs was that
someone threw him a T-shirt, and he promised himself to thank the man later. He took the
stairs three at the time, forcing his limbs into the sleeves.
It was five floors of a breathless run, so despite how trained he was, when he stood in front of
the door he was already dying.
When he knocked on the wood, a muffled 'come in' came from the other side. The little man
didn’t even bother to look up from the papers on the table. Haruka tried to push back down
his beating heart, which threatened to jump out of his body right through the throat. At last,
the man turned a biting gaze his way.
“Do I look like Rapunzel to you?”
The question took Haruka aback, making him blink in confusion. His fast breathing was
finally slowing down, and he swallowed the bitterness forming in his mouth.
What?
“I’m asking you—If I look like fucking Rapunzel to you!” Hirai stood up and threw a thick
folder on the adjacent cabinet with a deafening bang. “Because I can’t find any other
explanation for why the fuck you were keeping me waiting for you like you were a damn
prince on a white horse! Sit down.”
It was apparently an order, so Haruka obeyed.
“I’m—I’m sorry.”
Damn.
The man was barely a hundred and sixty centimeters tall, but he effortlessly made it look like
he was the bigger one in the room.
“Now, I don’t have the whole life for you, so let’s cut it short. When are you leaving?”
When was he leaving? Well. That was one interesting question. But no matter how hard
Haruka tried to wrap his mind around it, there was not an answer which would make Hirai
happy.
Although, on the other hand, he could not quite understand why it would be important to this
man, considering that Haruka had never swam directly under him. And while Hirai was
undoubtedly the head of the whole Sport’s faculty and ruled his little—oh so famous—Hirai’s
team with Hagino and a few other chosen ones, it was solely Tatano who trained the rest of
the swimming team.
And Tatano was also the one who was organizing the transfer.
A sudden seizure of guilt struck Haruka’s insides. He never wanted to put the man in an
awkward position, but, as it seemed, he was planning to do just that.
“I’m afraid I’m not going anywhere.”
But if he expected Hirai to be a little bit surprised in an unpleasant way, or slightly appalled
by Haruka’s own stupidity for declining an offer of such importance, he was ultimately
wrong.
Because the man’s fists hit the surface of the table in front of him with such force that
Haruka’s body wasn’t the only thing jumping in shock.
A little golden swimmer’s statuette fell off of the shelf behind Hirai’s back.
“What the fuck do you mean by 'not going anywhere'?! And I recommend you think it
through before you give me a proper answer.”
“I—I… something came up, and I—”
“Do I look like I’m fucking interested in your worthless life?!” Hirai’s body shook in distress,
his hands curled in fists.
They were looking at each other without a single word while Haruka’s heart banged wildly
against his chest. What was he supposed to say, then? Hirai pinched his nose, breathing hard.
“Okay. Let’s talk about it for a bit. You obviously have no damned idea what’s going on here,
and I, of all, have to be a nanny here.” The man sighed, leaving his place behind the table.
Haruka’s eyes widened as Hirai stood in front of him, leaned against the table’s edge, and
looked him down with a disgusted stare.
“You know, Nanase. The truth is you’re far from being what I’d expected you to be, when I
watched your swimming in that miserable little high school of yours.” Haruka blinked in
utter confusion.
Hirai watched him?
Up until a week ago Haruka didn’t know the man even registered his existence. And now
this?
“I told myself: look, shit he’s good! That technique, that natural talent! He’s your next star,
you have to have him! And then—came the regionals. You know what I’m talking about,
don’t you?” Haruka’s stupefied mind refused to follow the track of the conversation, but he
nodded nevertheless. “I was so disappointed when I saw you in that damned pool, giving up
just like that. Because it showed me who exactly you are. What kind of athlete you are. And
it’s not a nice picture, I tell you.”
Haruka’s throat constricted, and he swallowed hard. Hirai’s gaze was not a pleasant one.
“So I said to myself, okay, forget him. And then—you wouldn’t believe it—one sunny day I
come to my office to look over the applications for the swimming team, and guess whose
name was on it? I thought, fine, give him one more chance, he’s here in the city after all, so
maybe, maybe, he’s grown up a bit. And I wasn’t disappointed this time. Well, not that much,
at least.” Haruka watched the man sigh and look to the distance over his shoulder.
“You actually made me believe you’re not a lost cause for a moment. I gave Tatano-san my
directions, and he did his best to pull out of you everything there was. And then it happened
—again. Your times started to waver, and then just took the route to hell. And so we are here
now. Can you tell me what the problem is with you, kid?”
I don’t know.
I don’t know myself.
Haruka lowered his eyes to his sweating palms, looking for any explanation. But it was futile.
It wasn’t as if he wasn’t trying his best, as if he didn’t care, as if he didn’t spend hours
thinking of what he was doing wrong. If it was the angle of his dive, a fucked-up turn, or a
weak stroke.
But he just couldn’t find the answer.
“I’ll tell you what the problem is.” Hirai leaned into him, so he was staring into his eyes from
above. The man poked Haruka’s forehead. “It’s in your head. It’s all there. And that’s exactly
what I came to know the moment you stood up in that damned pool at regionals. Because no
matter how good, fast, or fantastically talented an athlete is, as long as he’s not strong in his
mind, it can all go to hell. And that’s where your problem lies. You’re weak, kid. Don’t take
it a wrong way, I’m telling you because I see you’re just as clueless as I thought you were.”
How was it possible to lose all hope in the span of a few seconds?
Am I?
Am I weak?
…
Yeah…
Even Rin thinks so.
“Nanase.” The man called his name, his voice calm and stare observant. Haruka clenched his
fists on his knees. “When I heard from Tatano-san you expressed the wish to transfer, I was
actually beyond happy. I thought—maybe that’s what he needs! Let him see the world,
become stronger, get some balance to his swimming. I didn’t want to give you up just like
that. Because you have it in you, kid. I wouldn’t be wasting a single fucking minute of my
life on someone who’s not worth it. But, frankly, I don’t give a shit if your papa’s alcoholic
and your mama left you as a newborn. If you want to become a professional, you have to be
able to put all those things aside.”
Haruka heard the man sigh heavily, but was unable to return the stare.
“But I tell you one thing, kid. This is your last chance, and you have exactly three options.”
Haruka forgot to breathe, but the pain in the pads of his palms caused by his nails reminded
him he was still alive.
“Either you go along with the transfer, and come back as a new man, or you get your shit
together here and your times go back to their previous state. I’m giving you exactly a month,
not a day longer. Or”—Hirai’s voice turned somber, as if he was actually feeling bad about it
—“you’ll pack your things and get the fuck off of my swimming team. I won’t have Tatano
wasting his time on a messed up head.”
And when their eyes finally met, Haruka suddenly had a very strong feeling that this moment
was one they called crucial. Because it sure like hell felt like something important was on the
verge of its ending.
The burning sensation within his stomach was almost overwhelming as the man dismissed
him with a wave of his hand.
It didn’t falter a tiny bit when he was standing on the subway platform, people jostling for a
place, shoving him back and forth as the crowd moved slowly forward.
And it definitely didn’t cease when his phone beeped with a text message.
080 87654321, 16:36
If I prove to you how much you mean to him, will you help him? Yamazaki
His fingers quivered as they were searching for letters of his one-word answer.
So.
Had the dice been cast, or not?
Chapter End Notes
What makes person a good friend? That he respects your wishes and just stands by your
side, or that he is willing to risk your friendship for the sake of your happiness?
I’ve actually lost a friend because of my big mouth, so I don’t really know now...
Anyways, I know there was absolutely unforgivable lack of Rin in this chapter, but I
promise to make up for it in the next one. ;
See you next Friday!

Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Well, guys, what to say first?
I was really looking forward to this chapter, because this whole enormous fic kind of
evolved from it (in my mind), and it’s not hard to find out where the name of the story
came from once you read this.
It had to be said that it was written for all Matsuoka-lovers out there, and someone
please explain to me why this man is not real, haha. :)))
The rating went up, again, but it’s still just a taste, nothing like what is about to come
later, so stayed tuned. ;))
Enjoy!
A little green light moved slowly over the stations of the Mita subway line, one after another
on the car’s plastic wall above his head. With each soft hiss of a closing door—a heartbeat of
a giant steely worm—it marked another lost kilometre between their bodies.
He could hardly wait another minute.
I’m going to see him again.
And like a curse the memories of few warm moments spun around Haruka’s mind in a
whirlwind, gnawing his insides with a need, with a fire. A gentle sleep-filled breath behind
his ear; the weight of a strong arm resting over his waist, holding close; warmth seeping
through a few insignificant layers of clothing—everything bittersweet and so real.
And now, now—some others, some new.
Silent laughter more felt than heard, a beating of two crazy hearts. Fingertips on the skin of
his neck as they pulled closer and held.
He sighed, air shakily coming out of his nostrils.

Haruka didn’t know much, but what he was absolutely certain about was that those moments
really happened, and he never tried to doubt this truth. They were not created somewhere in
the dark corners of his mind. They weren’t.
But now, with an unknown urgency, they kept coming back, creating rather disturbing
questions. Because up until yesterday he was convinced about their insignificance, so much
that hearing the opposite had done something odd to his chest. He so didn’t want to nurture
foul hopes.
Yet the thought was already there, sewn between the cells of his heart.
What if, what if they were right?
What if.
What if Rin feels it too.
What if.
What if he needs me now?
What if.
The car’s animation showed the Hibiya station was only three more stations apart. A little girl
on the opposite side of the car slid from her mother’s knees and smiled shyly his way. She put
her little finger into her mouth and chewed on it, eyes twinkling playfully. Haruka winked at
her and smiled as she hid her face in her mother’s skirt.
If only it wasn’t all that confusing. If there was something—anything—that would allow him
to look right into Rin’s head and read all the thoughts that ever crossed that vibrant mind—
those carrying Haruka’s name, of course.
What would they look like?
Try as he might, Haruka simply couldn’t think of Rin’s swimming as anything connected to
—however unlikely they seemed—his feelings towards him. And yes, Yamazaki asked him
to help Rin, and somehow managed not only to make it look like bringing him back to
swimming was an absolute need, but also like Haruka was someone important, someone with
the power to affect Rin’s mind. To change his life—if only Haruka wanted.
And Haruka hadn’t changed the way he looked at that stupid decision, no. If Rin really felt
that way, then fine.
But the possibility reminded itself once again: what if he didn’t? What if he’d just gotten lost
within life’s strange crests and falls, living without his family and friends, far away from
those who knew him well enough to help him navigate his way.
What if Rin had just lost the sight of his dream for a moment—the one where he stood on the
podium, wearing a shiny golden medal around his neck? Haruka had seen the picture in his
mind too many times to wipe it off just like that.
Rin would wear his electric grin, waving for the cameras; happy and, finally, satisfied with
the world. And Haruka’s heart would flutter with pride, yes, but secretly, hidden in a place
where he stored all those irritating things he felt for Rin.
Wasn’t it then, maybe, his obligation, even as a friend, to show him the way to his dream
again?
He didn’t know.
Mostly, he didn’t have a clue how to find out.
Then, absolutely separately from these questions, there was Yamazaki’s text message. It
touched something hidden deep within his guts, a hope he’d buried long ago. Now, now it
burned bright, absolutely disregarding his will.
But, yeah, Haruka knew that in the end it didn’t really matter if Rin indeed felt something for
him or not—not in a sense of the question if Haruka would help him. Because if it was so, if
Rin did want help, than Haruka knew he’d do the last thing possible, even if nothing of
Yamazaki’s and Nagisa’s words were true. But…
He sighed, his breath coming out heavily.
But he also knew that this offer was something able to change his life forever.
'If I prove to you how much you mean to him, will you help him?'
How could such things be proven, anyway?
The only thing he knew was that the 'no' he’d sent back was equally final as it was selfish.
Because no matter what, Haruka was never going to be part of anybody’s schemes.
With revived courage the little girl left the bench, and with shy steps crossed the car’s width
to Haruka’s side. Her mother smiled apologetically, but he shook his head, not minding the
attention one bit. Haruka looked at the girl’s small frame; she wore a single braid, fastened
with a little red ladybug pony-tail holder. Her eyes were a faint brown colour—like a mocha
coffee—with a few specks of gold.
He wished he carried a notebook and pencils with him all the time, exactly for such rare
opportunities.
When he walked from the station in a light warm sprinkle, mind filled with images of the
girl’s pale little hand vigorously waving her goodbye, Haruka thought of many things. Of the
way the single stubborn strand of Rin’s red hair used to fall into his eyes back then, making
Haruka’s fingers twitch with need to push it back, again and again. Of how his voice used to
fall an octave or two when he pronounced Haruka’s name; not once it wasn’t followed with
that strange twinkle in his red orbs.
Rin was… beautiful.

In all the things that mattered, and then in those that didn’t too, Rin was… simply amazing.
Even now, as Haruka was closing the distance to their meeting point, and their eyes met,
Haruka didn’t have a clue what he was going to do. But the fluttering feeling within the cage
of his ribs reminded him again he was alive.
He was truly alive, breathing and moving, placing one foot in front of another in order to
bring him closer. And he would keep his distance, of course, because he still had no right to
not to, but he also knew that until Rin’s plane took off in the direction of Australia, he would
suck in all these precious moments, save them in the confines of his memory.
When he could be close to this flame, to this warmth.
And Haruka would live off them for many years that were yet to come. Because as he stared
into that fiery sun now, relishing in its painful carnage, he knew that he was wrong all along.
This was not going to leave him, perhaps ever. And maybe he didn’t even want it to.
Rin smiled tentatively.
“Yo, Haru.”
A nod.
A smile.
I don’t remember smiling that much in… months.
'Hi's and 'Hey's of Makoto and the rest of their group distantly resonated in Haruka’s brain,
but their faces quickly faded away in a haze created by twinkling in the red eyes.
Had it been any other human being on the planet at the moment, it didn’t really matter. If
everyone else disappeared for good, he would not move a muscle. The rest might fade away
happily, millions of lives stolen away by storms, floods, or by any other means possible.
Haruka couldn’t care.
Because the important one was standing there with tiny water droplets running down pale
cheeks. And although for a flickering moment only, it was okay.
But nothing could last forever.
Anna’s voice fought its way through the fog in Haruka’s mind.
“Let’s go, baby, it’s starting to rain again.”
She pulled on his sleeve, and Haruka had to look away, a hot anger bubbling somewhere
deep.
Don’t touch him.

He rather let his eyes travel around, watching people on the street opening their umbrellas.
Like a charm almost everybody quickened their pace. And the world around Haruka ran
untouched, although faster, even when Rin’s smile disappeared, and he followed the others
into the shelter of the closest coffee shop.
They were almost there, running and screaming over the sudden downpour that was
penetrating their clothes, when a far too quickly moving stain made its way through their
group.
And there was suddenly a startled yelp coming from Rin’s mouth as his body hit another one,
and a young boy, soaked up to the bone, fatally lost his balance. Haruka slowed down, but
Makoto’s hands pushed him back into faster motion.
Anna’s exclaim fought with the rumble of the rain. She let go of Rin’s hand, following the
others.
And then Haruka watched from the shelter of the warm coffee shop, water drizzling from his
hair, how Rin’s hand helped the boy back to his feet. The moment just before the boy flew a
piece of paper was pushed rather violently into Rin’s hand, and with a hard slap across his
back the bothersome lad made his way further through the crowd.
A soft thudding sound of water falling onto the concrete pavement behind the glass wall
mingled with the murmur inside and created a strange impression of pleasant isolation.
Haruka watched, transfixed, how warm orange light of the setting sun drew colorful circles
between raindrops.
He didn’t dare turn his head again, because Rin’s shoulder would be certainly touching hers,
and all that Haruka wanted was to relish in this proximity without stupid and unwanted
feelings.
She might have had Rin’s everything, but Haruka had a collection of those few moments.
And no amount of her sweet talking into Rin’s ear, or leaning into his side could ever take it
away from him. Haruka didn’t know why, but as he sat there with Rei on his right, and
Yamazaki on his left, he realized one thing.
That it didn’t really matter if Rin was with her, or that he was never going to feel the same
about him. It wouldn’t make any change if he was married with three kids.
Because Rin was alive, still somewhere in this world, and until this truth stayed unchanged,
Haruka could live off those few memories.
He sighed, wishing to stay like this forever, with the pain in his chest dulled by the knocking
of raindrops on the window pane.
Only a gentle touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality, and with a wince he looked
up. Met with intense red, Haruka’s heart fell out of rhythm for a second or two.
“Can you help me with the order? It’s too much for one to carry it all.”
He barely registered his own unintelligible 'uhm', hoping that it, at least, delivered the
message, and too soon he was pushing away the chair and making the motion to follow after
Rin.
Let’s go, move!
But a firm hand shot upwards, catching his arm and pulling him back down. His back
touched the chair’s backseat with a soft thud.
“Unfortunately he can’t. We were talking about something right now. I’m sure Ryugazaki
would help, no problem.”
Rin straightened into his whole height and Haruka watched, intrigued, how fascinatingly high
his brows could be lifted. It took Rin a second, but finally he shrugged, and with a
silent 'Rei' walked away from the table.
What the hell?!
He just missed a precious opportunity to spend few minutes alone in Rin’s presence.
Damn. The idiot stole them from me!
Haruka’s eyes flicked back to Rin’s face for a short moment as he stood at the counter afar. It
wore a hesitant expression, lips pursed into thin worrying line.
“What was that supposed to mean?” He could not help the irritation to take control over his
hushed voice.
Yamazaki leaned closer, but held his breath instead of speaking.
Just spit it out.
“Why are you so stubborn?” His voice was silent when he finally spoke, without a trace of
his usual arrogance.
Haruka sighed tiredly, trying to ignore Makoto’s concerned gaze on the other side of the
table.
“You should really stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“So it’s a 'no', definitely,” Yamazaki said, nodding once, as if he was confirming something.
How one man was able to stir so much annoyance in other human was hardly explainable.
“It’s a 'no' to your stupid question… I never said I won’t help… if it’s necessary.”
The smile that spilled over his face was the biggest Haruka had ever seen there before.
“It is, it is.” A big hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing once. “I’m really grateful, just
wanted you to know.” And his face wore a somewhat apologetic expression, when the
following words left his mouth. “And… I’m sorry for yesterday. I know I can be a little bit of
a… uhm, prick, sometimes.” He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, watching Haruka
from unpleasant closeness.
Haruka sighed and side-glanced at the tiresome man.
“Sometimes?”
Yamazaki chuckled, lips quirking into a playful smile.
“Fair point,” he said, stare finally turning in the direction of the counter. Haruka followed his
gaze. Rin’s hands were busy with coffee cups and muffins, but his eyes kept returning back to
the table here and there. “All I want from you, dolphin, is a chance for him to be happy
again.”
Yamazaki’s serious gaze was right on him again. And it wasn’t before fingers reached for the
hem of Haruka’s T-shirt just under his neck and pulled it an inch lower, that he realized how
strangely the blue eyes glistened.
Haruka snapped the hand away.
“What are you doing!?”
“Nothing in particular. But just so you know, I’m giving you my word that I’ll behave.”
Haruka blinked, startled by the sudden turn of events, and unable process his surroundings.
“No more teasing, I promise.”
What was this change supposed to mean?
He narrowed his eyes. “Why would you?”
Yamazaki shrugged, giving away nothing. “Let’s say a man who’s not running away when
someone needs him deserves better treatment.”
I haven’t agreed to anything!
Haruka shook his head, irritated. “And this conversation could not wait?”
But before he even had an opportunity to finish the question, he realized two things at once.
Not only that Rin was already back at the table, but also the fact that Yamazaki’s hand lay on
the backseat of Haruka’s chair as if it belonged there.
Why was he still so close? They were done talking.
But the other man turned to face his way and sent him a lopsided grin. “No, it could not…
because I had an irresistible need to say that you’re looking really good tonight.”
Wha…?!
Haruka’s brain short-circuited, and it did not help that red eyes were burning holes into his
forehead.
“So! What are we gonna do now? Someone have an idea?” Jane’s vivid voice carried to him
through the haze of shock, a steaming coffee cup parked in her hands.
Makoto shrugged and said, voice apologetic, “I know it’s strange, because me and Haru live
here, but we are both kind of new to the city ourselves, and this is the first time we have any
visitors here, anyway… And, without Nagisa’s sightseeing plan we’re kind of… lost.”
“Don’t worry,” Rei exclaimed and reached to the bag hanging over his chair. He held up a
paper with a triumphant expression. “He gave it to me yesterday, so we could find our way
around.”
Jane’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Great!”
But all of a sudden there was Rin’s hand, snapping the paper from Rei’s slim fingers. Haruka
watched with eyes wide how the unexpected motion startled Makoto, whose coffee was on its
way to his lips.
The cup fell out of his hands and with its owner’s surprised yelp painted a long brown stain
onto his snowy white shirt.
All eyes turned to the fist that crumpled the paper into a small ball and threw it onto the table.
“Sorry, Makoto.” Rin reached back to the neighboring table for a dozen or so napkins and
threw them his way. “But I’ve had enough of Nagisa’s great help, thank you very much.”
An awkward silence fell onto the table, and thanks to Yamazaki’s persistent proximity
Haruka noticed how his eyebrows twitched over the unnecessary gesture.
“Well, it seems we’ll have to do on our own, then,” he said with a sigh and pulled out a
phone, finally putting some distance between the two of them. Haruka’s eyes inadvertently
turned towards the fingers moving over the display. Yamazaki was obviously looking for
something interesting to do in Tokyo.
The unexpected way that Nagisa’s name exploded in the coffee shop made Haruka’s mind
wander away from Yamazaki’s idiotic jokes.
It felt surreal, having one of his close friends shut out so easily, just like that.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering that Nagisa’d broken his promise to Rin, but it
was still strange, not having him around. His loud, senseless jabbering; annoying exclaims;
good-hearted laughter.
Try as he might, Haruka couldn’t hold a grunge against the blond. He was, after all, just an
overexcited young boy who thought he was eventfully helping someone.
And, truth be told, Haruka understood one thing. That without Nagisa there would never have
been a few amazing moments spent in an elevator.
He would have never admitted it out loud, but he felt far more grateful rather than angry
towards the blond.
It wasn’t until the building’s door finally closed behind them, and Yamazaki announced there
was some kind of jewelry fashion show nearby—apparently of some insanely famous brand
he had never heard about—that Anna’s voice broke the awkwardness.
“Why is it always raining these days? I’ve been to Tokyo before, and it was never like this.
And why, for crying out loud, did we choose golden week for this trip, when the whole of
Japan is set loose? There’ll be people everywhere! It makes sightseeing absolutely
impossible.” Someone hummed a vague answer, but apparently no one was willing to
elaborate on Nagisa’s silly reasoning, or the weather’s apparent unpredictability. She turned
to Rin, reaching for his shoulder. “So, let’s go, before we get soaked through again.”
But when Haruka’s eyes searched Rin’s face, it was turned towards a shop window,
uninterested and closed up.
Haruka had seen his fair share of downward turned lips’ corners to know when Rin didn’t
want to be bothered by stupidities.
“Go ahead. I’m not in the mood for fashion shows now. I’ll just walk around for a bit.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly after a while, letting her hand drop. And her voice quivered with
some sort of emotion when she spoke again. “Buy yourself an umbrella, somewhere.”
“Sure.” Rin turned to her, nodding once.
She took a step forward and stood on her toes, waiting for a kiss. Haruka turned away, unable
to watch the sentiment.
When he looked back after a short while, she was just standing there without a word, a
strange expression on her face as she stared right into Rin’s closed-up face. She turned on her
heel and walked away, without a word.
But a short glance Haruka caught just a second before she left told him much more than she
was probably willing to share.
Because the contemptuous look was gone, and instead of it, her eyes were glistening.
He didn’t want to dwell on the scene. The hope in his chest did not need any further
encouragement. He sighed and set his body into motion when the rest of the group followed
her. The idea of spending time without Rin around repelled him on a physical level, but what
could he do?
Why was Rin even doing this?

And he would’ve walked away, doubts and questions eating up on him all the time Rin’d
have spent alone walking the streets of the city by himself, but a rather soft pull on the sleeve
of his hoodie brought him to a stop. He looked back, hoping against his own will.
Rin’s hand fell back to his side, fingers loose.
The street felt suddenly too full with the two of them standing face to face on the pathway.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Haruka was indeed registering Rei and Makoto moving
away, throwing concerned glances towards the two of them, but he couldn’t have brought
himself to care.
Because Rin’s voice was gentle and smiling as his hands unfolded the water-drenched piece
of paper, which Haruka recognized as the one the boy must’ve given to Rin earlier after they
collided in the rain, and pushed it into Haruka’s open palm.
“You’re not going to believe this.”
***
“Rin! Wait!” Haruka’s yell dissipated in the clamor of the storm that went rampant above
their heads again. The heavy drops filled his mouth and eyes.
Why was it always, always like this—him running desperately after the man as if it was a
question of life or death? Haruka’s legs moved faster than the wind as he weaved throughout
the crowd of colorful umbrellas; heart beating louder than a hammer.
“Rin!”
He was soaked to the bone again, but he couldn’t care less. There was only one thought
running wildly in his mind.
I lost him, I lost him again.
But his body drew almost a full circle as a firm hand shot up from his right and brought him
to a sudden stop. Haruka was panting hard as he grabbed onto the offered arm for leverage.
“You’re damn slow on land, Nanase,” Rin said with a hint of a teasing smile, but he was also
catching for breath. His head made a motion towards the entrance of a modern glass-covered
building, bearing the characters Toho Cinemas Roppongi Hills above it—the same as Rin’s
flyer did. “We’re here.”
The sky lit up with a series of powerful bolts of lightning. Haruka startled and held onto Rin
tighter. When Rin’s soft chuckle made his insides spin, he sent him an unamused look.
“Let’s go,” Haruka said, voice curt, and did something he’d never dreamt of daring to before.
He curled his fingers around Rin’s wrist and pulled.
Because this time, for some reason, he simply knew he would not be deprived of the contact;
his hand would not be shaken off.
And it was not.
They ran inside in a mad spurt, and it wasn’t until they both stood in a dry lobby, water
dripping from their everything right onto the marble floor, that Haruka realized that the
surprisingly light sound of laughter belonged, in fact, to him.
He never for a second let go of Rin’s hand, and it was okay.
Because in that little piece of world, in this oddly impenetrable bubble Haruka found himself,
Rin didn’t have a girlfriend, he hadn’t left swimming. He was right there, same as always, but
also in a tiny, insignificantly different way.
Because here—Rin belonged with him.
And Haruka was not going to waste a single second.
Rin’s face wore a grin almost reaching his ears as they stood in front of the counter, and his
long finger moved over the list of movies on the tall billboard. Haruka leaned onto the
metallic surface, moving slightly closer to the man, and watched tens of people wandering
around the lobby, coming in and out of the depths of the enormous cinema. He held his
drenched hoodie over his arm, quivering slightly—but it was hard to tell if it was because of
cold or proximity of Rin’s body.
A girl, wearing the cinema’s brand shirt smiled sweetly, handing them dozens of
informational guides.
“Welcome at the Tokyo International Film Festival 2014, a revisit to classics from Belle de
Jour to Back to the Future. As you see.” She smiled again and swayed her hand across the
same list of paper that Haruka just took from Rin’s fingers. “The movies are projected on all
screens from number one to seven, according to the program you are holding in your hands.”
Rin’s eyes shot to her, suddenly filled with anxiousness.
“What about Gone with the Wind?"
She hummed and looked down for a moment. “Yes, it’s on screen five, but I’m afraid it’s
been running for an hour or so now.”
“It doesn’t matter. How much it is, then? Two tickets, please.”
Haruka’s legs ran up the stairs in a rush similar to Rin’s long ones. And as his eyes swayed
from one side to another in an attempt to localize the door with a number five above them,
Rin’s hand was suddenly heavy on his shoulder. Haruka’s head snapped to the right, only to
be met with warm, smiling eyes. He swallowed hard, blinking.
“See, I promised you we were gonna see it together one day. I still can’t believe you didn’t
know the flick. It’s a world classic!”
Haruka shrugged, but regretted it immediately, for the warm hand fell off him. “I can’t know
everything.”
But damn he knew one thing.
That months ago in Melbourne when the two of them half sat, half lay on fuzzy couch
cushions in a hotel lobby, quarreling over everything and nothing, and Rin had been teasing
him endlessly about his ignorance towards world film and music production, Haruka had
never imagined finding himself here. Standing so close to him, but being unable to lift his
hand and reach for a loose wet strand falling into Rin’s eyes.
Because back then it all looked so simple, but he couldn’t find the courage then. And now it
was too late. The chance was gone.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” said a man around his fifties, who stood next to the door, voice
apologetic. “But the room’s full. You’ll have to choose another screen.”
“What?!” Rin exclaimed, disappointed. “But we paid for the tickets only because of this
one.”
“I’m terribly sorry. But I can’t do anything.”
Haruka took a step forward, placing a palm on Rin’s forearm. “It’ll be just a moment. We
don’t need seats.”
The man’s face was hesitant, but, at last, he pursed his lips and nodded shortly.
The room’s lights were down, only small blue sparkles lined the stairs up to the higher placed
rows of seats. There was some dramatic scene happening on the screen, but Haruka’s eyes
reluctantly left it as Rin pulled him behind. They sat on the stairs, side by side.
The warmth of another body so close made Haruka shiver nicely.
They watched in a comfortable silence for a while, but the movie was far from being
interesting enough to overcome other things that Haruka was unable to ignore. Like how the
flickering light of the screen drew shadows on the side of Rin’s pale face. How the corner of
his lips quirked into a smile, so soft it made his fingers want to reach out and line its
contours. How, even in the darkened room, his eyes shone with a life, like red stars in
Haruka’s starless sky.
His heart made a somersault as they turned his way and sparkled mischievously.
“Watch it, dumbass. You’re gonna miss the best part.”

He reluctantly returned his stare back to the movie and sighed, feeling filled with something
close to happiness. In the corner of his eye Haruka saw Rin’s hand shoot up and run back and
forth through his slowly drying, way too short hair.
The gesture was so manly, yet casual, that Haruka’s throat constricted, and a hot sensation ran
through his body as if he just got a magnesium shot. He swallowed hard.
Come on.
Just keep your eyes straight on.
A woman on the screen wore a plain black dress, and from the short moments he was paying
attention it seemed she was mourning someone deceased. Or should’ve been, to be specific,
because as she threw smiles towards a brassy man, flirted with him, and spun around in a
brand new dark green hat, she seemed everything but desolated.
The movie had no Japanese subtitles, and it was kind of difficult to grasp what exactly was
going on when all the characters spoke with a strong, odd accent. But Haruka understood
enough when the man took her in his arms and leaned over her to place a kiss on her lips.
“That’s one of my favorites.” Rin’s whisper tickled his ear.
When the man on the screen opened his mouth again, the words of the character came to
Haruka from two sources.
And Rin’s voice was low and throaty as he recited sentences alongside the man in English
that was far more understandable.
“No, I don’t think I will kiss you. Although you need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with
you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”
You.
Haruka blinked few times in a vain attempt to bring some semblance of common sense to his
thoughts.
What are you doing to me?
But it was futile. The world had already stopped spinning, and there was, once again, nothing
else than him and Rin; his and Rin’s shoulders, touching as if it was the most natural thing
ever.
You.
You are going to be the death of me.
And he grasped for something to say, something to hold onto, before he fell apart completely.
“You’re a dork, Matsuoka.”

And while he prayed that his words did not sound so lovingly when they left his mouth as
they did in his head, Rin’s grin was back.
“I know. Can’t help it, though, when it’s so romantic.” It was impossible to ignore the
reminiscence of their younger years, when the same words meant something completely
different. But Rin’s lips were now far too close for his own good, so Haruka rather turned
away. He was almost disappointed when Rin added, voice hushed in his ear. “The movie, I
mean.”
And his eyes were once again on the screen, as if Haruka’s chest had not exploded moments
ago in agony of self-denial. He shook his head, trying to keep his face straight.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment or two, ultimately abandoning the attempt of pretending
he was really watching. Rin’s pale face turned to him, curiously traveling over his own.
“About yesterday.”
And he really was. In the dark of their little space, limited in length, width and—mostly—
time, Haruka deeply regretted the way he rose his voice on this beautiful creature. He didn’t
want to hurt Rin, ever, not even when he yelled at him, but it didn’t make it any less wrong.
Rin shook his head and sighed, a deep line creating between his eyebrows.
“…If someone has to apologize here, then it’s me, don’t you think?”
Haruka lowered his head and rested his chin on one knee. A smile threatened to form on his
lips.
“No,” he said, “I think Makoto’s fine. Although you should probably buy him a new shirt.”
The laughter that filled his ears was loud and light-hearted, definitely coming from a happy
place. Haruka ignored indignant stares thrown their way. Rin’s fist touched the side of
Haruka’s head, but it was way too gentle to be anything other than a playful gesture.
Is this a good time to ask?
“...Rin?” A soft hum encouraged him to go on. “Can I ask you something?”
And for some reason Haruka immediately understood that Rin knew the question was going
to be about his swimming, and also that he didn’t want to be asked in the first place.
Because there was a beat of silence before Rin sighed and answered, “I don’t want to talk
about it, okay?”
“Just—”
“Haru.”
Another sigh, and a silence.
“We should head up. They’re waiting.”

And as Haruka was descending the stairs, opening the door and turning the corners, all the
while walking by Rin’s silent side, it felt as if something important was running through his
fingers.
Try as he might, he could not have found the way to stop the process.
“What took you so long? Where have you been?”
Haruka took a few steps away from the pair, after he and Rin approached their meeting point
and Anna’s shaking voice carried above the crowd. He joined Jane’s side as she stood afar
from their group, apparently uninterested in the vividly red Porsche, currently admired by
Yamazaki and the rest.
Makoto sent him a small worrying smile, but the rest hardly paid his arrival any attention.
Jane glanced at the quarreling two, her eyes filled with concern.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked once her eyes rested back at Haruka, but it was a
question that wasn’t expecting an answer. In the soft wrinkles around her mouth Haruka
understood that she saw far deeper into him that he’d wish to.
He nodded, anyway.
And as a cold feeling captured Haruka’s heart, his eyes shot back to Rin and his girlfriend.
She was the only one speaking while the man just rubbed the side of his face with an open
palm.
A furious anger shook him to the core. Why was Rin letting her scold him for nothing? It was
not like they did anything bad, after all. And while he knew it was not that simple—
specifically on his own side—from Rin’s point of view they were just two friends watching
the old movie as they promised long ago.
They’d known each other for most of their lives, for god’s sake. Why would she have any
problem with it?
“Haru.” Jane brought his attention back to her round face. “I’d like to speak to you privately,
once you have some time. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He nodded again, confused for a moment by the strangeness of her question. But then a
memory resurfaced and he realized that no one was still, in fact, aware of his ability to speak
English without problem.
But just as he opened his mouth to articulate something intelligible, the pair joined them.
Rin’s annoyed face perfectly matched her huffy one.
Girls. There are only problems with them.

Anna sighed and, turning to Jane, asked in clear English: “So, what were you and Weirdo
talking about?”
“Anna!” Rin’s strong voice startled both her and Haruka, and an odd sound came from Jane’s
side.
“What? For starters he doesn’t understand a word, which is pretty laughable considering how
utterly easy this language is, and second, it’s an undeniable truth.”
It was clear as sky that she was trying her best to make her speech fast and complicated so
there was not a single chance Haruka could understand with his supposed skills. He looked to
the side, annoyed.
Was he supposed to tell them now, how wrong they were? It would be only more awkward—
if that was even possible.
“I’m sorry, Haru.” Rin’s voice was apologetic. “Anna’s bit tired.”
“Don’t apologize for me, baby. I asked you specifically to avoid spending time with this
freak, and what did you do? You want to convince me that he is a good influence on you after
yesterday’s extempore? I might not be let into that restaurant again, thanks to him!”
“That is enough!" Rin half-yelled, and Haruka wished to just bury himself two meters under
the ground. Standing by his side, Jane looked just about the same.
“What is this all about, kids?” Yamazaki’s baritone had never been so welcomed before.
And like a charm, the fight was over. The two were probably still glaring at each other, but
Haruka didn’t dare to test this assumption. His eyes rather shot to the bigger man’s face, and
he was met with a curious stare. Yamazaki’s eyebrows rose, and as he took a place next to
Haruka from the other side, he seemed to come up with his own answer.
Rei’s feet came to a sudden halt in front of them, his face lit with a wide, excited smile.
Makoto was walking right behind him. “Have you seen it?! It’s a 918 Spyder!”
It took Haruka a moment or two until he realized his friend was still talking about the vehicle.
And not that he wouldn’t have shared Rei’s excitement under normal circumstances—the car
was rather beautiful piece of art, indeed—but all he wanted now was just to leave.
“Uhm.” Makoto cleared his voice, when nobody reacted to the question for a solid while.
“Yamazaki-san had a good idea about tonight. What would you say about going dancing?”
“Yeah.” Jane tried to sound excited, but her voice was too weak. “That’ll be really great.” She
sent a thankful look Makoto’s way, and Haruka watched, bewildered, how his friend’s cheeks
gained a soft reddish colour.
What?
How come I’ve never noticed it before?

Haruka fought against the smile that threatened to form on his lips. He decided against
looking at his friend, but Makoto, apparently encouraged by Jane’s reaction, went on in a
strangely low voice.
“Well, there’s apparently this famous night club in Shibuya. And it’s not that far if you want
to try it, it should be around fifteen minutes by subway.”
Jane nodded with a smile, and Haruka almost chuckled as her pale face also gained lovely
shade of pink.
Well, this is interesting, hah.
“Whatever,” Anna muttered gravely, barely more than a whisper, and started to dig for
something in her leather bag. “I just wish this week was done and we were back home in
Sydney.”
“You’re free to go whenever your heart desires,” Rin said more for himself than her, words
vibrating with strong irritation, and her hands stopped in their motion.
“Guys…” Jane trailed off, obviously unable to find any words suitable.
When Anna looked up, Haruka watched in utter disbelief how her eyes filled with water.
Damn.
Was this necessary?
But Rin’s eyes were ablaze when Haruka searched his face, and they seemed to be glued onto
something on Haruka’s neck. And only then he noticed the softest of touches, which could
only hardly be registered through the fabric of his clothes.
A hand slid down his back, leaving an uncomfortable sensation in its stead.
Whatever Yamazaki was doing, it had to be put to a stop, immediately. Haruka turned around
and narrowed his eyes at him. He wanted to yell, to take a brick of the pavement and wipe
that arrogant smile off with it. Yet he knew that, for some reason, it would make things even
worse.
The violence would never work with this man, on the contrary; it would only encouraged him
further.
Haruka chose rather to lower his voice and growl, “You touch me one more time, and I
promise to rip off your hands.”
Yamazaki laughed as if he just heard the best joke ever, and said in a full voice: “Let’s go. If
we wanna dance the night away, we should eat something before. I don’t like drinking on an
empty stomach.”
Rin’s mouth was in a thin line when he finally turned his eyes away from Haruka.
And when they all were finally on their way, standing in the moving subway car, the baritone
found his ear and whispered with a smile: “You’re a fiery one, dolphin. Maybe I’m starting to
understand what he sees in you.”
***
A thick fog danced in the hot air of the room, making people on the dance floor and up on the
stage disappear, and a moment later re-enter Haruka’s field of vision. It was hard to breathe;
the moving mass of people stole oxygen from the air, and the bar stool he sat on was way too
far from the ventilation shafts that were sending cool waves from the ceiling.
The smell of sweat, various colognes, and alcohol filled Haruka’s nostrils. He had never been
to a place like this before, and now he knew why.
Haruka had never been overly fond of music, and there was a very specific reason for it.
Because all those tones, beats, and voices might have been entertaining, might have been fun
from time to time while they were coming muted from Makoto’s kitchen radio, but other than
that they were only making him feel strange things. Or, to be specific, making his existing
feelings, which he laboriously kept hidden somewhere deep, resurface with a hardly
contained intensity.
But here, the music was so loud and beat so strong that he felt his chest constrict under the
attack of sound waves. Even the surface of the clear water in his glass danced in the rhythm
of a song.
And as his eyes kept running on their own volition back to the dance floor, he knew that
trying to keep control over himself was a task impossible.
Haruka rather turned away and watched a water drop run down the glass right on his thumb.
It was the only cool thing in the whole room. The sweat ran down his temple in a similar
manner, but it was not caused by the heat, not at all.
Dammit.
He didn’t even need to see him, because this god-damned music made it feel as if Rin’s body
was right there next to him. It was enough that thanks to its rhythm his mind could almost
perfectly recreate his moves, even now as Haruka was forcing his eyes to stay glued on the
myriads of bottles on the wall behind the counter.
He swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably on the stool in a futile attempt to ease the
pressure.
This is hell.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to join his group in the crowd of moving bodies. He did. But
every time Anna’s hands held Rin’s, curled around his waist, or ran down his hips, the seizure
of something uncontrollable made Haruka fall out of rhythm and stand there like an idiot.
It was not jealousy.
It was the music, he decided.
It had to be.
So for the last half an hour he voluntarily expelled himself from that enormous fun and stared
blankly into space. The bartender came up once again, putting his hands on the counter, and
shook his head with a smile when Haruka rose his almost full glass of nothing more than
water.
He wanted to go home, he did. But on the other hand, he could hardly imagine voluntarily
leaving the room with Rin in it. Caught in the cage of his own head, Haruka knew he was
doomed—condemned to stay in this underground prison, built from his own thoughts.
“Having fun, Haru-ka?”
If there was one thing he hadn’t anticipated, it was Anna making a voluntary decision to talk
to him. At least she was speaking in Japanese, so a solution to Haruka’s English dilemma was
postponed for a later term.
So we are on a first-name basis, now.
“Absolutely,” he said over the loud music, turning his body slightly away from her as she
pushed herself between his and the neighboring bar stool and leaned over the counter to
motion for a bartender.
Her skin was shiny, covered by a layer of sweat from dancing and heat, but it wasn’t
repellent. On the contrary, to be honest. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, revealing a
long and elegant neck, and she must’ve put some girls’ colours on her face in the meantime,
because her eyes looked bigger and darker when she turned them Haruka’s way. And much
more dangerous, as well.
“Have a shot with me. My treat.”
He raised his glass, moving its content slightly. She laughed shortly.
“Come on. Just one.”
What was she trying to do? They were not friends, not even acquaintances. She didn’t like
him, and he loathed her.
“I don’t drink.”
“I don’t drink,” Anna repeated with a slight motion to her head. Damn she was annoying.
“What, Mr. Too-Cool-For-School is afraid to lose face?”
Haruka sighed, running fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say.”
She didn’t seem to like the answer, because her eyes sparkled dangerously. But the bartender
threw her a rather interested smile above the counter, and she yelled above the music. “Four
vodkas, please.”
And when the young man disappeared to the other end of the counter to get her shots, Anna
turned and leaned her slim body way too close to Haruka. Her elbow touched his forearm,
and it was everything but a coincidence.
“Don’t you think.” She leaned even closer. “That dancing is sort of like… love-making?”
Haruka threw a confused look her way. A subtle smile played on her lips, and he could’ve
only imagined she was looking right at Rin.
“I mean, you can immediately tell if two get along in bed from the way they move together
on the dance floor, can’t you?”
I hate you.
Haruka didn’t want to. He didn’t want to have those kind of feelings, loathed himself more
for having them than he loathed her.
“Well,” she said, straightening up once her shots landed on the counter. Placing one of them
in front of Haruka, she took another one between her fingers. “Santé.”
He couldn’t speak French, but he knew when someone was mocking him.
He watched her drink the contents of the glass in one fluid motion, and then she was gone.
The only thing that stayed after her was the bitter feeling of a lost fight.
Because up until the moment when she said those words Haruka truly believed that he was,
although at the cost of heavy losses, able to come out of this completely sane. But as a picture
of their sweaty moving bodies exploded in his mind, the burning flame in his chest grew
within seconds into gigantic size, eating up on his stomach, limbs, rendering his brain
ineffective.
They’re sleeping together.
Haruka’s hands turned into stone-hard fists on his thighs. And with the same finality, as his
heart broke into thousand pieces, he just knew he would not resist to look.
And there they were; her back pressed to Rin’s chest, swaying in a sensual rhythm, following
the deafening beat of the song. The fog curled around them as if there was anything else
needed to make it look like a scene from an adult movie. His hand held onto Anna’s hip as he
pressed her closer to him.
Fuck.
So… yes, it was time to admit it out loud, Haruka thought.

It was jealousy, after all.
To say they looked good together would be an underestimation. A picture perfect couple right
out of magazine’s pages. Rin’s strong body, clad in nothing else but a black wife-beater and
low hanging jeans, suited all too well her smaller frame. She was hot, and she was aware of
it.
And then it happened. Haruka wasn’t sure why it surprised him, because a scenario to this
scene had been very predictable. But when she turned around in Rin’s arms and kissed him
hard, all his insides turned upside down.
A strong need to throw up seized his stomach.
But he instead stood up, curled his fingers around the small glass and turned it upside down
to his mouth. The taste was bitter and it burned his tongue and throat, but it was a welcome
distraction.
He almost ran up the stairs, taking them two at the time. And he would’ve gotten out of this
other-worldly nightmare right in time, but all of a sudden there was Yamazaki’s annoyingly
big body standing in the way—apparently leaving the bathroom, because his palms were still
damp when they rested on Haruka’s shoulders. He shuddered, grossed out by the contact.
“Let go of me.” His voice came out hoarse and trembling.
“Hell, Nanase, you alright? You look like shit.”
Well, that much Haruka knew himself. He sucked in a gulp of stale air. He needed to shake
off those fingers from his body, and get out to the fresh air before it was too late. But
Yamazaki crunched slightly to lower down to his level and looked him right in the face.
“Come on.”
Haruka had no strength to fight the command hidden in those words. He let the man drag him
by the arm into the bathroom he’d exited moments ago and lead him to the sinks.
And it was in the last minute possible, because Haruka’s insides gave up the fight with a
definite spasm; he threw up everything he’d gotten down during the whole night.
When it finally ended, and he was able to open his watery eyes—it was better. The tiles were
cool and a bit wet when he rested his forehead against them. It felt amazing.
“How much did you have?” The question carried undeniable traces of concern, although
Haruka was sure it was not intended.
“…just one shot,” he answered, still breathless.
Yamazaki’s sigh was knowing and heavy. “So… I guess it’s not the alcohol then.”
Haruka watched him lean against the tile wall next to him and lower his chin to his chest. He
seemed to be mulling over something, but as people kept coming in and out of the bathroom,
the man stayed silent. He only stood there, staring down onto the floor, as if he was waiting
for Haruka to get himself together.
And he was actually really grateful that, at least for a once, he was not being attacked or
harassed. He realized that for some reason having someone around, even if it was only this
idiot, was better than being alone. While he knew how dangerous a realization it was, since
he was far too used to dealing with everything on his own, he could not have helped it at the
same time.
Haruka washed his face and rinsed his mouth with cold water.
“Let’s go,” Yamazaki ordered silently, yet resolutely.
“Where?”
“To put an end to this idiocy. Will you stand to go back down?” The man’s hand gently
pushed Haruka out of the bathroom, and once they were out, it still rested on his shoulder.
And for the first time it didn’t feel like intruding Haruka’s personal space. It was meant to
reassure, to sooth—and it had that effect, surprisingly.
But try as he might, Haruka couldn’t have found an answer to his question.
“I don’t know.”
“Listen to me, dolphin.” Yamazaki took a step closer and held Haruka’s gaze without
blinking. “Tomorrow you’ll stay home and get some rest. You seem to need it badly. But
tonight, we’re going to solve this once and for all, you and me.” And all of a sudden there
was a strong finger under Haruka’s chin, lifting his head up. “Now, you’re gonna get what
belongs to you. And I… well.” A small smile played on his lips. “Well, I’m gonna get what I
want. Which is, you see, to get that little bitch out of Rin’s life.”
The beat of music was still strong, even coming from the underground stages as they stood in
the busy hallway, sweaty laughing people meandering around them. It oddly matched
Haruka’s wildly beating heart. He gulped down the still present bitter taste of vomit in his
mouth.
“Why are you so preoccupied with his swimming, anyway?”
Yamazaki straightened up to full height and inhaled deeply. “The question is rather why you
are not. When you love him the way I think you do.”
“I never said I…” Haruka trailed off, not knowing how to put his confused thoughts into
words.
There was a long silent moment while Yamazaki studied his face, and Haruka knew he could
do everything and nothing and the man would still see through him effortlessly.
Because of course he did… loved Rin.
How else would you call this madness that didn’t want to let him go?
“Let’s say.” Yamazaki looked to the side, and there was something hesitant in his voice.
“That you and I are maybe not that different… when it comes to feelings for him. But, unlike
you, I really know him. Far better than you ever will. Because he and I are the same. And if I
have to chose between him living an unhappy fucked-up life somewhere far away with her, or
to follow his dream by your side, then… I think you know the answer. I’m just picking the
better option here. And besides.” Haruka watched him run his fingers through his hair and
sigh, before his eyes rested confidently back on him again. “It’s undeniable you’re the one he
wants, anyway. So, I told you once to take a step forward, remember? Now it’s time to do it
again. We don’t want her to win this.”
“It’s not a war,” Haruka said.
“Why yes, it is pretty much a war. And she knows she’s losing it. Let’s finish her off and
head home. I’m kind of beaten up.”
“...What do you want to do?” Haruka followed Yamazaki as he sidestepped him and headed
in the direction of colorfully lit stairs. Lasers from the room drew various shapes under their
feet as they descended underground. The music was deafening again, vibrating through
Haruka’s heart, making it skip a beat.
Yamazaki turned and reached out his palm, waiting. Haruka’s eyes flicked from the man’s
face to his hand and back more than a few times.
What?
What does he want?
…no.
…he can’t be serious.
But he apparently was as his head motioned towards the dance floor, and a small mischievous
smile appeared on his thin lips. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“I’m not going to—” But however Haruka wanted to protest, it was all lost in a completely
shocking moment, when his hand was being pulled in a not overly gentle manner, and then he
was being pushed by insisting big hands through the crowd and forward, right to the place
where their group was dancing.
“Come on, dolphin,” Yamazaki’s laughing voice filled his ear. “Don’t be so serious all the
time. Have some fun with me.”
And there they were all of a sudden, firm hands holding him from behind around his waist
and a dark chuckle on his neck. A strong shudder ran down and up his body, because, damn,
no one had ever been so close to him. Not in this way, at least.
Yamazaki laughed, obviously registering the reaction of Haruka’s body, and pushed himself
even closer.
“Don’t—don’t touch me.” But the protest came out weak, and he was sure it had gotten lost
in the yelling music.
“I like this song. It suits you well.” The man’s words were dark and heavy in his ear, and he
swallowed, shivering. And for the first time since he lay his feet in this room, he actually
made an effort to listen to the lyrics.
A hot sensation captured his insides.
'Now if we're talking body
You got a perfect one
so put it on me'
Haruka’s throat constricted, and he closed his eyes in a futile attempt to gain back control
over his body.
“Look at him.” It was a command, although sweetly whispered into the shell of his ear.
Haruka’s eyes searched for the familiar face in the crowd, and he didn’t have to look for long.
Because Rin’s perfect body was right there in front of him, swaying in the sultry rhythm,
making Haruka’s breath hitch in his throat.
'Swear it won't take you long
If you love me right, we fuck for life'
He watched, bewitched, how Rin’s biceps contracted as he moved his arms around his
flawless frame. And hers, as well.
It had never been so addictive to watch Rin moving; he’d never been so fucking hot before.
'On and on and on.'
“Is he looking at us?”
Lost within that magical beat of the song while curious palms traveled up and down his
abdominal muscles, Haruka couldn’t have found breath to formulate anything coherent. All
he knew was that everything was jumping and stomping around in a wild beat to the music,
only he was the only one unmoving.
He shook his head.
'Love, give me love
Anything you want I'll give it up'
“Then make him.”

And with this soft spoken command Haruka’s body started to move on its own accord,
swaying to the side and back, immediately followed by the other one behind him.
It was the smallest of the motions, but as they shared the space, it was just enough to register
a gentle swell pushing against his ass—natural, yet still overwhelmingly disturbing. And it
made his blood boil to the point of no return.
Because no one had ever held him like this before. And, mainly, because Rin’s eyes were
finally on him, wide and definitely shocked.
'Lips, lips I kiss
Bite me while I taste you're fingertips '
Oh.
Suddenly the whole world spun around, and there was no Yamazaki, no hundreds of other
people around him, no flashes and wild circling lights.
It was only him and Rin’s blazing red eyes.
'On and on and on (Let's go)
On and on (Let's go)'
And when hot breath landed on the sensitive place on his neck, it was Rin’s lips worrying the
skin and his sharp teeth marking their territory. Haruka’s eyes closed, letting a wave of
something increasingly hot engulf him completely, and his head fell backwards.
“Fuck. You’re a hot little thing, dolphin.”
He didn’t know if those hotly whispered words were meant to keep him in the state he’d
gotten into, or were just an unconscious slip of a tongue, but they definitely worked as a cold
shower.
And, in an instant, everything went right to hell.
Fuck!
What am I doing?!
?!
Haruka’s hands ripped Yamazaki’s fingers off of his hips, and rubbed his face, trying to wake
up from this nightmarish daydream. He was vaguely aware of some worrying questions
directed to him, but he just wasn’t able to focus enough.
Nothing made sense, only the music that was still making his head spin as he stumbled
through the crowd and looked for a way out. It was almost impossible to make his feet match
the rhythm of the stairs as he ascended to the surface.
Not a single person paid him any attention as he fell out through the entrance door, right into
the night chill. Haruka leaned onto his knees, sucking air in through his nose with utmost
effort.
Okay.
It’s okay.
You’re fine.
A howling ambulance ran down the street with a flashing red light. A group of youngsters
that had nothing to do here at this late hour laughed nearby.
Haruka pushed his pulsing head between knees.
Everything is going to be alright.
“You!”
Haruka’s head snapped back at that spiteful word, and he realized in bewilderment that it,
indeed, belonged to him.
Because Rin’s glowing body was closing with an unstoppable urgency, and he didn’t know if
he wanted to run away from, or to the man. Only when those fists curled around his shirt and
lifted him up to Rin’s eye level, Haruka noticed something else other than a hateful stare and
a growl with bared teeth.
A tear was running down the pale cheek, and Rin wiped it away, pushing back a sob. And
when the whispered words came out of those beautiful lips, Haruka knew he was never going
to stop regretting this night.
“You little slut.”
Chapter End Notes
If someone would be interested, this is the scene they watched in the cinema:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4-DIldIX6U
Oh, I juts love the movie!
And the song in the club is, of course Tove lo, Talking body (I highly recommend to put
your earphones in for the beat) ;)
Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

Hey, guys!
I hope you had a nice week.
Enjoy!
No doubt, there are certain rules that guide one’s life.
Like the time you usually wake up, and the number of times you turn in your bed before you
open your sticky eyes. The way you have your coffee—milk, or no milk; sugar—no, thank
you. In what order you put your clothes on; socks first, then straighten your collar; tie your
shoes properly.
Day by day, everything has its exact order. The scenario of a life, guiding your hands and feet
during hours when no one is around.
And Haruka knew his rules by heart.
Every day he would open the window the first thing in the morning, letting dirty air and
white noise of the city in. He would eat something and leave for school. He would put up a
show of paying attention, mind running elsewhere. He would sit alone during the lunch
break, making it look as if he didn’t mind. He would rush to training, squeezing his body to
the edge.
He would go home. He would talk to Makoto.
Eat. Study. Watch TV, or go out for an hour or so. Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.
He would avoid making eye contact with strangers during the day, with himself in the mirror
while brushing his teeth just before he went to bed. He would forbid himself thoughts
containing red eyes, though he knew they would be coming back with unthinkable
persistence.
He would pretend that everything is just fine, just okay, just the way it should have been.
But in deep—he would be just asleep.
With mind set on autopilot Haruka lived his days, one after another. They were all the same,
nothing ever out of the ordinary.
Up until two days ago.
And up until now.
Because now, if asked, he would’ve hardly answered the question where exactly his heart lay
in his body. Because its insane trepidation made it feel as if his everything—from fingertips
to his toes—was a big, beating muscle, filled with blood and life.
Thump, thump.
Thump, thump.
“Rin.” A whisper.
Now, Haruka felt that all of his life until now had been nothing more than a dream, from
which he’d finally, at last, woken up. Everything around came in sharp details like never
before.
The gentle breeze that ran through the strands of Rin’s hair; yellow street light creating a pink
aura around his head. A small mole under his left eye. Their connected reflection on the
door’s glass. The howling of the youngsters standing afar, probably expecting a juicy fight.
Fluttering of Rin’s damp eyelashes. Almost imperceptible quivering of his lip.
Thump, thump.
“Rin.”
And no, it wasn’t as if Haruka wanted to actually say something. Just the name on his lips—it
tasted differently when its bearer stood there while spoken, right in front of him, and not on
the other side of the ocean.
But instead of an answer all he got was a strengthening of a grip on his shirt, making him
take another step closer. His knees touched Rin’s.
So close.
The realization hit him like a train.
I can…
I can have another moment.
Another one to his small, humble collection of stolen seconds, filled with guilty pleasures.
Like stickers to a child’s album, Haruka kept adding one after another. And while most of the
places were empty, waiting for a chance that would never happen, with each of those existing
Haruka came to realize something new about this precious human being.
He knew how Rin’s breath sounded while sleeping; he knew the smell of his skin—
everything unforgettable, etched forever in his memory.
And now—he could add another one.
He could find out how Rin tasted.
And before the thought had a chance to be mulled over, to be properly processed by the cells
of Haruka’s brain, the need to not let the moment slip away made his hands shoot up. They
travelled along the surprisingly cool skin until they rested on clammy shoulders, softly—
meaning not to hold as much as to anchor himself in the vast space, before he flew away,
murdered in the stratosphere by his own hammering heart.
When his lips moved, it was on their own accord—as if they were not connected to the rest of
his body at all.
Thump.
It was a softest of the touches; probably nothing anyone would call a proper kiss. And while
slightly dislocated, it found its way to press sensitive skin against Rin’s own.
Thump, thump.
I did it.
I did it!
The thought made his head spin, made everything dance around in a mad tango; the street,
the buildings, the people—everything lost in the screaming of blood running through his
veins.
Haruka was used to pushing his body to the edge, urging it into faster and faster motion while
submerged in the cool arms of water until he was breathless, adrenaline filling his body’s
tissues, but he’d never felt like this.
Like he was living to the fullest, and also dying with each passing second.
He dreaded to open his eyes, because what he may find could be the best, or the worst
possible.
And when he did, at last, with the finality of the Earth forever spinning around the Sun,
Haruka understood it was not the former. Because Rin’s eyes were wide and surprised,
glistening with shock in the artificial street light. They were not understanding, and
definitely, certainly, not happy. Not in the slightest.
Rin…
Haruka anticipated many things to happen in the moment of this utter dread. But when Rin’s
eyes closed and his mouth let out a loud growl, he understood that what was about to come
would certainly break his bones and leave him lifeless on the concrete pavement. But, for
some reason, as strong hands pushed him into backwards motion and then right into a hard
wall, he didn’t care.
Because just like it was sang in that song, which a few short moments ago clouded his mind
down in the dark underground, he’d give up everything for this man.
His head hit the wall behind with a dull thud, leaving him slightly breathless.
“You think you can have everything, don’t you?”
Rin’s elbow pushed against Haruka’s neck. It hurt like hell, leaving him mute.
“You think you can have everyone. Him, me, everyone. You…” Rin’s words were way too
broken to sound hateful, but they were enough to make Haruka’s blood run cold. He managed
to open his eyes, overcoming the pain for a moment. Rin was breathing right into his face,
breath carrying distant traces of liquor.
“Rin.”
“Fuck! Stop saying my name like that!”
Like what?
Rin, please…
“I’m such an idiot. So blind! Since the first night at that restaurant it was obvious. I should’ve
seen it then. How you two were whispering to each other. But then you… and I… And today
—I had to look at the two of you together all day long, your fucking blush, his laughter.”
Rin’s voice broke on the last word. “Then you practically let him fuck you on the dance floor.
Now what? Were you gonna go home with him? How will he have you, huh?! On your back?
Or do you like it better from behind?” Haruka blinked in complete disbelief, and even if
Rin’s elbow was more merciful, he’d have hardly found any words. “Answer me!”
“I…” He pulled at the arm, rendering him breathless, and coughed, once free. He watched
Rin’s face, distorted in anger, still all too close. He shook his head, hand shooting up to his
adam’s apple. “I didn’t… I would never…”
“But you did!”
“No, I didn’t. Rin.” Haruka’s voice was barely more than a whisper when the name left his
lips. And then there was Rin’s burning forehead against his, breath intermingling with his
own.
“Haru.” The word was broken, swallowed with hot tears that ran down the pale face.
Haruka’s fingers travelled around the wide back, and finally curled into the fabric of a sweat-
drenched wife beater.
“Yeah?”
“What do you want, Haru? Hmmph? Tell me. What you really, really want,” Rin whispered
into his face, lips so close Haruka thought his heart would explode right there and then just
from the proximity. He so wanted to find the words, formulate something that would tell Rin
everything and nothing at the same time. “Because I’m fucking tired of your riddles.”
My riddles?
When did I make one?
It’s you… it’s you who is an enigma.
The moment stretched into seconds, and Haruka’s mind was still as blank as it had been
before.
But he realized this was not the time for big words, anyway.
He closed his eyes, and with a fear of breaking down he sent strength into his hands. Finally
they obeyed, not letting the place for further questions. And as they pulled the strong body
closer to him, he dared to look.
Rin’s eyes were closed, his nostrils fluttering, mouth turned down.
“I think I showed you enough,” Haruka whispered into the shadow between them. “What I
want.”
And just like that, it seemed to be enough.
When Rin’s lips crushed onto his, his head hit the wall behind him once again. And no, it was
not the gentlest of kisses, far away from what Haruka had imagined in his mind, what he’d
been dreaming about for so many nights, curled under the duvet. It was miles away from
what he would’ve chosen, had he been given options.
But it didn’t matter, no.
It might’ve hurt as much as it wanted, it could’ve been violent and loveless—damn if that
was what he cared about.
Because it was still Rin’s lips on his chapped skin. It was Rin’s tongue swirling in his mouth,
his long fingers holding Haruka’s head in its place. It was no one’s but Rin’s thigh pushing
between his own, dragging a shaky whimper from his throat.
And just as quickly as it happened, it was over. Because the pain that all of a sudden vibrated
through Haruka’s brain was not something ignorable. Shocked and astonished, his hands
shakily pushed against the body that moments ago made him feel like dying.
Yes, the moment was gone.
And in its stead was just a copper-like taste in his mouth, third-degree burned skin, and
emptiness, here and there cut apart by deep inhales and exhales as they both were catching
for breath.
Haruka’s hand shot up to his pulsing lip. It was covered by red once he looked at it, eyes
wide.
“Fuck, Nanase. Fuck!” Rin shook his head, covering his face. He was still too close, although
not touching Haruka anymore. “Fuck you and your voice. Fuck you and your damned,
perfect eyes.”
The yells and hollering of the youngsters’ group carried through the air to them. Soles of
Haruka’s shoes dug into the muddy soil under their feet as their words shook Rin’s body. But
no amount of 'faggots', disgusted grunts, or whistling could’ve ruined this moment for
Haruka more than what Rin did.
“You bit me,” he said, unbelieving.
He licked his lips, tasting the blood.
Just a second ago he wanted nothing more than to call Rin’s name again, just for the sake of
curling his tongue around the sound.
Why the hell did you do that?
Why did you have to ruin this?
Because Haruka needed this moment, was dying to never forget it, to add it undamaged to his
collection.
What he wanted more though, was to shake Rin, slap him across the face for not seeing the
obvious. To make him realize that this was it—that 'something', which was there all along,
although Haruka may have lost sight of it for a while, fooled by pretension and strange
theatre that Rin played.
Forget her, finally.
I’m what you want, am I not?
You just proved it!
Rin’s mouth pursed into a thin line, but his eyes were glistening again. “You deserved it.”
No, it wasn’t that simple. Because Rin was not stupid. And Haruka was now sure like never
before that, despite Rin’s undeniable effort to cover it, he was not the only one feeling this.
So why was Rin fighting it with all his might? She was certainly not enough to raise a wall
between them, was she?
“Did I?”
Yamazaki was not right.
I know you. I know you enough.
“Yes.”
No. There had to be something else, something that stood in the way, and he didn’t know
why, but it suddenly seemed clear as a night sky back in Iwatobi that it somehow related to
the water.
“Why now?” Haruka’s scattered mind tried its best to focus at Rin’s mouth. “Why not months
ago? Or last summer, when I would’ve killed for this to happen? Why? Why now?"
But Haruka had no answers to those questions. What was he supposed to say? Apart from
'I was scared. I was stupid. I didn’t know you felt the same.'?
He didn’t know, but he, at the same time, had his own questions. He looked to the side and
spat the blood to the muddy ground.
Why have you abandoned me?
Why have you left swimming?
How can you, of all, live without water?
But to put those questions into words would’ve changed nothing. Because just like earlier
that day in the cinema Rin would just cut him off, close himself up into that impenetrable
shell of his. No, there had to be a different means to solve this mystery.
And there was indeed one that only Haruka could have used. He realized that, ironically,
Yamazaki was maybe right in this small thing.
“Race me,” he said, finally catching for breath. But Rin’s face said it all once the words
registered with him.
“Haru.”
“One last time.”
A silence.
Rin pushed himself off the wall, obviously wanting to distance himself from Haruka and his
surprising demand. When he opened his mouth again, his voice was low and carried finality.
“I can’t.”
“But—”
“I can’t. And I won’t.”
Haruka watched him take a step back, and involuntarily followed him in his movements. But
as he tried to push himself off of the wall as well, it was suddenly impossible to inhale. His
chest seized with a strange pressure, leaving him breathless. He rubbed his face, trying to
fight the dizziness.
Damn.
What… what is this?
His shoe slipped as he tried to make a step forward, and he stumbled. With a soft swoosh his
knee landed in the muddy ground.
“Haru?” Rin took few tentative steps towards him, but paused afar with an alarmed face and
wide eyes.
“You owe me,” he managed to push out, at last.
And Rin’s mouth opened to object, to put up a fight again, but he knew, just like Haruka did,
that he had no right to deny him this one thing. They stared at each other, both unable to find
words, which could follow what happened and not make it look too important.
“What the hell?!” Both their heads snapped to the side, from which Yamazaki’s figure was
approaching, taking giants steps. He looked them both over, narrowing his eyes at Haruka’s
slumped figure, and then his face.
And faster than he could react with a messed-up mind as he had, there were gentle fingers on
his lip, examining the damage. Yamazaki’s eyes turned to Rin, suddenly filled with
threatening anger.
“You hit him?”
“No,” Rin hissed, closing the short distance in two steps, and grabbing onto the big hand,
pulling it away roughly. “Don’t touch him.”
Yamazaki straightened, but as he faced Rin they seemed almost of the same height.
“Why? So you could have your way with him again? To hurt him again? Haven’t you done
enough damage, already? I was so stupid… damn.”
“S’not your business, Sousuke. Stay away from this. Stay away from him.”
When he spoke again, his voice was deadly and commanding. “Let go of me, Rin. While I’m
telling you nicely.”
Haruka leaned his head against the wall, tired like never before in his life. And when he
thought that nothing, absolutely nothing could make it worse than it already was, there came
a voice, trembling, but filled with enough poison to murder the whole Japan.
“Rin?”
He didn’t even have to open his eyes to watch Anna approach and halt afar. Numerous steps
that followed sure enough meant everyone came up here to check on them. He swallowed,
hoping he would get out of it alive.
“What is this?” she asked shakily. “Huh? What’s this supposed to mean, Rin?” Haruka
looked at her through half-lidded eyed. She blinked, apparently trying to fight tears, and
motioned towards him. “You two fighting over him?"
Rin’s head fell to his chest, and he finally let go of Yamazaki’s arm. “Anna.”
“No.” She took few steps back as he moved closer.
“Anna. It’s not how it looks.”
Is it not?
So… how it is then?
What are you doing to me, Rin?
But she just shook her head, face tear-streaked, and turned on her heel. Rin followed her
inside as if his life depended on it. And watching his back, Haruka felt as if the whole world
was just being torn apart. The glass door reflected Haruka’s face when the only man he ever
cared for vanished behind them.
He rose to his wobbly feet, taking a step in the direction they ran off.
He didn’t know what Makoto’s, Rei’s, or even Yamazaki’s face looked like. He didn’t care.
He just knew that Rin ran after her, abandoning him. Leaving him as if he meant nothing.
When the silent words, pronounced by deep baritone, finally came, he somehow understood
they were all about him, although they were not directed to him.
“Take him home, and put him to bed.”
Only a silence filled the rest of this movie-like scene, but he knew with unwavering certainty
that there had to be Makoto’s wordless consent somewhere. Because the warm hands curled
around his shoulders, leading him somewhere.
He didn’t particularly care, where to.
***
The window was left ajar, letting the soft breeze of a surprisingly warm afternoon in.
A short, yellowish curtain moved in a slow dance; its motion reminded him of water waves
on the wide ocean—lazy on the surface, merciless deep down. Haruka lay with hands behind
his head, staring into the ceiling. Pictures from yesterday’s night ran through his head,
making him queasy with the oddest combinations of guilt, excitement, disappointment, and
anger.
Mostly anger, though.
Makoto’s voice carried through the apathetic atmosphere around him, and although he
managed to keep most of it out, the debris of the phone conversation fought their way from
the kitchen.
'No… I think he’s better…'
'…yeah, sure…'
Haruka put himself into sitting position, running fingers through messy, unwashed hair. He
really needed to get a bath. Hot water would help to soothe everything, anyway.
'it’s not that easy, though…'
He felt his eyebrows rise over the strange choice of words, and proceeded to snatch a clean
towel from Makoto’s dresser. There was not a chance Haruka was willing to go to his own
room and deal with his mother before he was in a usable, decent state. She would make
stupid comments like always, no doubt.
'okay, I’ll tell him…'
“Hey,” Makoto said as he entered the room with a gentle smile. “Slept well?”
Haruka nodded and searched the green eyes. He knew Makoto would understand easily, like
always.
“Sousuke called. He wanted to know how you are feeling.”
“Sousuke, huh?” Haruka chuckled, gathering his things, and walked out of the room.
Makoto’s tall figure followed him, hands deep in the pockets. Haruka glanced at him as he
leaned against the doorframe.
“Well, yeah. We’ve known him for quite a long time, and, I don’t know, it’s kind of awkward
using surnames, don’t you think?” Haruka shrugged, without interest.
No, he definitely didn’t think it was necessary to go that far. Yamazaki was everything but his
friend, especially after the last few days.
After a while, Makoto seemed to finally gather his courage. “Haru, I don’t pretend to know
what is going on in your life now, but…” He trailed off and sighed, his eyes traveling over
the worn out tatami. “I’m kind of worried, you know.”
“No reason for that.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking right into Haruka’s eyes, once they landed on him.
“Anyway… Sousuke asked me to tell you that what he wanted you to do… that you should
forget it. He said you’re out of it, for good.”
Haruka’s hands stopped on the faucet.
Rin’s burning eyes fought their way back to the front of his mind. They battled with the
image of his distancing back, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. It was hard to tell what was
worse; either the shiver that ran down his spine each time a vivid reminiscence of those lips
on his bubbled up from unconscious parts of his brain, or the anxiousness that always
followed right after.
“It’s too late,” Haruka said, at last, letting water fall into the tub.
The sound of Makoto’s deep sigh filled the little room. “I was afraid you’re gonna say that.
But—”
“There’s something wrong, Makoto. With Rin. Yamazaki was right.”
“What do you mean?” The question was silent, hesitating as if Makoto wasn’t sure if he
wanted to know. Haruka shrugged, pulled sweaty T-shirt over his head, and tossed it into the
corner.
“I don’t know.” His mind ran to the muted phone, now peacefully resting on the surface of
Makoto’s table, and to the text message from this early morning.
Matsuoka Rin, 05:14
When and where
“But I’m going to find out.”
Because no matter how fucked-up the thing between him and Rin was, it could change
nothing about the fact that Rin was not his true self. There was something odd about his
behaviour, and damn if Haruka was willing to let it go unnoticed.
He was going to find out what was wrong at all cost, and the race was the only thing that
could help him with that. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he knew that sharing water with
Rin, seeing him in their most natural environment would certainly help to uncover more of
this nonsensical decision of his.
Haruka looked at his best friend as he stared into the distance, face in his characteristic
worried regime. Only then he realized that Makoto was fully dressed, apparently ready to
leave. He tried to remember if he was told something before, but nothing emerged. It was still
holidays, so apart from spending time with Rin and his amazingly sweet girlfriend there
would be nothing else to do.
Haruka hoped that that was not the matter.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked anyway, letting himself down into the warm water.
“Well, yeah,” Makoto said, coming back from wherever he was. “I’m going to check on
Nagisa. He’s not answering calls, and they didn’t want to tell me anything when I called his
hotel.”
Haruka blinked, a strong pang of guilt setting his insides on fire. He pushed himself up with a
definite intention to get out of the tub. “I’m coming with you.”
Makoto shook his head. “No, Haru, you’re not. You just get your rest, okay? I’ll call when I
know something."
With the same firm, although uncharacteristic, resolution hidden in Makoto’s voice, his best
friend left moments after, leaving Haruka blinking in confusion. Where did this decisiveness
come from all of a sudden?
He couldn’t know for sure, but there was a possibility a certain blond Australian girl had her
fingers in it.
And it was definitely not a bad thing. Not at all.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Determined not to think of Rin’s or his own
problems Haruka sighed, letting water do its magic.
Sousuke, hah… sure
So he wants to be friends with us, all of a sudden.
There was always something suspicious when it came to that man. Do what he might, Haruka
was never able to predict all of his plans and schemes; Yamazaki was always a step ahead.
Like the sick flirting games he played the whole yesterday, and which, in the end, ended up to
be nothing more than provocation for Rin. And as it seemed that the idea wasn’t new—the
idiot had obviously thought it through even before—with all of his stupid jokes at the dinner,
leaving Haruka flustered and ashamed in front of Rin’s observing eyes.
A nauseating shame washed over him, and he pushed himself deeper under the surface, so
only his eyes were peeking out.
I’m such an idiot.
Why the hell did I do it?
Why did I let him touch me?

But however Haruka tried to turn what had happened in his favor, it wasn’t working. Because
he could lie to himself as much as he wanted, but the truth was that at least in the moment he
had let Yamazaki drag him to the dance floor, he was very well aware of what the two of
them were doing, and mainly for what reason.
Haruka groaned, letting water swallow him whole.
I just wanted… to see what would happen when Rin saw me like that. With someone else.
Yeah… it’s definite.
I really am an idiot.
And shameful as it was, it actually worked. Because Rin’s tears were true, when he yelled
words that he was certainly regretting now. And his lips were also true. There was not a way
how Rin could pretend now that he didn’t feel something else than friendship and, perhaps,
guilt.
Haruka’s tongue ran over the little wound on his lower lip.
The question was, though, what would happen once Rin found out that the whole thing
between Haruka and Yamazaki was just a scam to lure him from the girl, and moreover, that
at some point Haruka willingly took a part in it.
One thing was sure: he was not going to like it.
What was Rin even thinking now? That Haruka and the idiot were a thing? That he slept
around?
With each new question Haruka’s humble hopes died, one after another.
And now, of all times, Yamazaki wanted him to step down, to forget how he begged Haruka
to help Rin. The man did anything possible to get him involved in his plans, only to ask him
to give up once some progress had actually been made.
It didn’t make sense.
And no, Haruka was definitely not willing to believe Yamazaki was feeling bad about the
outcome of his work. The man didn’t give a shit about Haruka, or anybody else.
Except Rin, maybe.
He wondered, finally, what that theatre, when Yamazaki stepped in like a knight in a shiny
armour, was supposed to mean. As if Haruka ever needed protection from Rin, for god’s sake.
And mainly, Yamazaki had already gotten what he wanted at the point they kissed and
fought, so he had no reason to continue pretending there was anything between him and
Haruka.
He decided, at last, that he never in his life needed to see the man again.
He reached for the faucet to refill the bath with scalding hot water, but his hand halted mid-
air, when a deafening bang shook the condo.
Haruka straightened up in the tub, listening for an aftermath. But there was nothing, only a
silence ruled where only a second ago apparently an aircraft crashed into the building.
Mother.
Haruka jumped out of the water, snatching the towel with one hand, and ran towards his
room. He burst in, ignoring the closed door that stood in his way.
She stood there, in the middle of the room, head down on her chest. He blinked, confused.
A shelf, which usually sat up on the wall lay down on the floor, with all of his books
sprawled at her feet. She threw him a rather ugly look, huffing slightly.
“Why are you naked in my room?”
Haruka ignored the tone, letting his eyes travel over the details. There was a strong reek of
cigarettes in the air, and all of his things seemed to be affected by her presence in one or other
way.
“Why do you smoke in my room? I think I told you something about that.”
“Yeah, yeah, message delivered, alright. Now leave me alone,” she said, turning her face to
the window, away from his sight. But it was impossible to ignore the way her deep voice
quivered at the end of each sentence, notwithstanding how much she tried to hide it.
There was a long beat of silence while Haruka tried to decipher whether he was really wanted
to get out, or not. Women could be so confusing, when they wanted.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, at last, thinking that getting a positive answer would be just
enough for his consciousness to shut up. “What happened to the shelf?”
“It fell off.”
Oh, so that’s how it happened.
Good to know.
“You need help with that?” Haruka asked, taking few steps into the room.
“No! I don’t need help! Can I have some privacy now, please?”
Haruka halted, taken aback by the sudden outburst, but even more so by the loud sob that
bubbled out of her throat. He watched how her hand shot up, covering her mouth, and then
her whole face.
And all of a sudden she went down, kneeling on his tatami. Her small body quivered with
soundless cries, while he stood there with his mouth open, astonished by the sight he’d never
seen before.
Not once in his life had his mother cried in front of him, or anyone—as long as he knew. He
was pretty sure she would’ve rather clawed her eyes of their sockets than let anybody see her
like this.
And yet he stood there watching her, completely speechless.
He closed the distance tentatively and placed still damp hand on her shaking shoulder. Under
different circumstances Haruka would’ve probably laughed over the oddity of the situation,
as he never in his life expected to console his own headstrong mother.
Least to say naked, with only a towel covering his groin.
Was he supposed to ask, or not?
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said silently, and reaching for the table she shakily rose to her feet
again. She seemed to gain control over the crying again, but as Haruka’s eyes ran over her red
face, he didn’t have a feeling she was alright, at all. “Boy, you’ve grown up.”
Haruka didn’t know what he was supposed to think about the comment, so he rather let it
pass.
“Uh,” she muttered and looked around, as if searching for something. She seemed lost, and
somehow even smaller. He watched her snatch the packet of cigarettes from under the
English version of The Catcher in the Rye, and put one of them into her mouth with
trembling fingers. “Go get some clothes on, and come back. It’s time for you to know,
anyway.”
Time to know what?
Haruka’s insides turned over, and an already familiar anxious fluttering in his stomach
returned with intensity. No, he didn’t want any news, didn’t need any other secrets. Wasn’t
there enough of them these days?
No more surprises, please.
But as his mother waved him off, and he was pulling a clean T-shirt over his head and
pushing legs into jeans, with a probability closing to certainty, Haruka knew that what he was
going to hear wouldn’t be anything good. And he was right, of course.
“He left me.”
What?
What?
“Who?” he managed to ask, although the answer was more than obvious. She smiled sadly,
knowing it just as well.
“Your father.”
Haruka swallowed, fighting the urge to shrug. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t care, or as if he’d
wished his mother something bad, no. It was a question of reality he was aware of for all of
his life.
Because there was simply not a chance his parents wouldn’t be together in the end. And
maybe he could never understand it fully, since they never appeared as a typical lovey-dovey
pair—or that they were in love at all, to be honest—but not once in their whole lives had they
been separated for more than a week since the day they had met, and there was apparently
something very strong keeping them together. So if nothing else, Haruka was sure of the one
thing.
His mother and his father belonged together like a lock and key.
He hadn't spent half of his life alone, letting her follow the man anywhere the wind blew him
off, just to see them apart. Hell, no.
“He’ll come around.”
She sighed, and a small smile played on her lips when she shook her head. “Not this time. It’s
the end, I know it.”
He watched her push the cigarette into the corner of her lips and get on her knees again. This
time, though, she started to gather the books, and put them anywhere the surfaces of Haruka’s
scarce furniture allowed. 'How come the smoke doesn’t get into her eyes?' he thought as he
joined her on the tatami.
“You have no idea how hard it is to live with someone like you, Haruka.” There was a strange
underlying meaning in her words, but he simply couldn’t find it. “I’m not saying it to insult
you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not.”
“But he and you are so similar I…” She trailed off, shaking her head slightly, and laughed
darkly. “Sometimes, when I’m not looking directly at you, it seems like it’s him instead. And
it’s not the looks… it’s the air around you two. I don’t know how to explain.”
Haruka sighed, keeping his face straight. But it was getting increasingly hard letting her talk
like that. Yeah, he was aware of his resemblance with his father, but it wasn’t something he
would’ve been very proud of.
“Do you have a girlfriend now?”
He looked up, startled by the unexpected question. Her eyes were impenetrable as she stared
at him, a pile of books resting on her arm.
“No,” he said, at last, and she nodded, almost as if she was content with the answer.
“Good.”
“Good?” Haruka didn’t want to let her drag him into a fight, but looking at her she didn’t
seem to be aggressive. She was just saying what she really thought; stating the obvious. That
made it even worse, actually. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugged and rose to her feet, turning away from him. A puff of smoke left her mouth
and danced above her head as she stared through the blinds out to the street.
“Because being with someone like the two of you, it’s a day-by-day struggle for the littlest
piece of affection, or any attention to be honest. But it’s also impossible to leave you as well,
I don’t understand it myself, and I lived with him for whole of my life. It’s like a curse, as if
everybody was attracted towards this eccentricity.” She looked back at Haruka, and smiled,
sadly. “You know how he told me?” He swallowed down, fighting the burning behind his
eyes.
Why are you saying things like that?
“He announced it between two sips of red wine. Like this,” she said and raised an imaginary
glass in front of her face. “Misaki, tomorrow I’m leaving you. The apartment is on the market
already, so you don’t have to worry about anything. There should be some people coming in
the morning, who have a serious interest. Please prepare some treats, we don’t want them to
leave disappointed. I’ll send someone over for my things starting next week. I hope you
understand, and I wish you a good life.” She pretended to put a glass to her lips, and sip it, all
the while her face was blank as a piece of paper.
Is this me?
Is this really me?
“I remember every word of that little speech of his, Haruka, as if he just said them to me this
very moment. You can bet I will forget nothing of it, for as long as I’m alive.” She smiled at
him, but it was a desperate smile. “See, you can never satisfy a man like him, or you. I loved
him with my everything, Haruka, I gave him everything, and that’s what I got for it. And
that’s exactly what you’re going to do to someone who would be stupid enough to fall in love
with you.”
He abandoned all the pretended effort to put the shelf back on the wall and just stood there, a
sudden burst of rage making his hands curl into fists.
Don’t pretend to know me.
The woman had not a slightest idea of who her son was, never was able to find any time to
spend with him, and now she was just standing there as if she ate all the wisdom of the world.
How did she dare to make statements like that? Who did she think she was?
Why would being with me be so miserable?

“I’m not like him.”
It took her a while to speak again, but eventually she did. “I wouldn’t be that sure, Haruka.
You’re still young. Wait a couple of years, and then you’ll see.”
“Why are you telling me all this, anyway?”
“Because I want you to understand why I can barely look at you now. You’re my son as well,
and that’s not going to change, ever. But I just can’t love you the way I should, I know it. He
took everything I could love with from me.”
“So why did you come here, then?” Haruka asked after a long moment of silence, but it got
out more like an unintelligible mutter.
She shrugged again. “Isn’t that obvious? I had nowhere else to go.”
And when her stare finally turned away, it felt as if all the ties Haruka had ever had to his past
and for some reason also to his presence were cut clean, like ropes of a ship heading for open
waters. He was floating somewhere in mid-air, not belonging anywhere.
To anyone.
And in this state of complete astonishment Haruka wondered if this was what it meant to be
free.
But despite what she told him he wanted to believe she was wrong when she said that it’s
going to be like this for sure. That he was going to hurt someone on the other side of his
heart, and that for the sake of that person he should stay alone.
How miserable that would be?
His mind ran to Rin, and the way he cried yesterday in his arms, almost breaking in halves.
Was Haruka seeing it all from the wrong point of view all along?
Because if he knew one thing about Rin, it was that the man was the gentlest, most caring
creature he’d ever met. Haruka’s fingers ran unconsciously to his broken lip.
Did I push you into hurting me back?
His insides spun with a seizure of guilt, when the memory of Yamazaki’s hands on his body
re-emerged again.
No.
I’m not that bad.
It was just one mistake!

“How it’s going with your swimming?” The question took him aback, and when his eyes
finally rested on her, she was lighting up another cigarette.
The woman has no brain.
“Alright.”
“What does it mean—alright? Have you won any big competition?”
Haruka sighed, thinking about his last conversation with Hirai and his one-month ultimatum.
“Not yet.”
Her eyebrows twitched, and Haruka practically saw how, in her brain, she was making a
conclusion he would certainly not like.
“Not yet,” she repeated, and he wondered why women had that stupid habit. “Well… and
have you been thinking about some other choice of career in the meantime? What would you
like to do instead?”
“I don’t want to do anything else.” A strong irritation shook his voice, but he couldn’t bring
himself to care. Leaving his room he hoped she understood the conversation was over.
“Where are you going, now? We’re in the middle of a—”
“I have something to do.”
The door to Makoto’s room closed behind him with a loud bang, but he was actually grateful.
It was definitely a stupid way to let out the pressure, but if not this, Haruka would’ve
certainly exploded. With a shaking hand and wavering courage he reached for the abandoned
phone and tapped the directions for the university’s natatorium.
It was almost impossible to focus on anything, though, even when there were important
things to deal with now.
Like Rin’s future, for instance.
***
Tatano Daichi, 16:54
Trainings canceled today for Team A to Team D due to my illness. Substitution by Hirai-san
until further notice, starting tomorrow at 7:00.
Rachel Keating, 15:26

Haru, I know it’s holidays, but I’d like you to meet me in my office tmr. When will you be at
school? I shall have some work, so I’ll be there all day long.
“Great,” Haruka muttered bitterly, threw the phone on the bed next to his thigh, and returned
to the book.
Now he had absolutely nothing to do for hours until the meeting with Rin. And he needed to
feel the water before he was able to face him again. He sighed, annoyed, and closed his eyes.
The tiredness was clawing on him again, but he decided against taking a nap. It would only
make him even dizzier than he already was. And the thought of seeing Hirai—especially so
early in the morning—didn’t add to his mood as well.
But what could his English teacher want, well that was a mystery. It’d been approximately
three weeks since Haruka had attended her classes last, annoyed by her persistent bothering.
He knew she didn’t mean any harm, but… he simply hated when she consistently drew
attention of a whole room to him.
Why, for god’s sake, couldn’t she just let him be?
He hadn’t studied the language for her to make him her guinea pig in front of the whole
school. No, he though bitterly, it was for a completely different reason.
His eyes travelled to his school bag where exercise books had rested untouched for too many
weeks now. And it wasn’t as if he lost his interest in it. But it just reminded him of an
Australia offer, which further reminded him of his own premature hopes with Rin.
Haruka closed the book with a soft thud, knowing the reading was done once his mind had
taken this direction.
How could I be so stupid?
How naïve he was, really, to think that he’d have been wanted in Sydney, when he knew next
to nothing about Rin’s life there? As it turned out—despite what Rin truly felt or not for him
—it was pretty idiotic thinking.
Which was, actually, another reason he wasn’t all that keen about telling Rin and the rest
about his English skills. Wouldn’t that be a natural thing to ask, why did he find it so
important to learn it, especially when he seemed to be—let’s be honest here—dumb for the
subject in high school? And how would he then explain his stupid wish to transfer?
The truth was, though, that once he put his mind into it, it was actually quite easy. He only
had to understand the nature of the language, and the rest came naturally—the letters,
grammar, rules, everything suddenly made sense in a way it never did before. The vocabulary
grew each day with hundreds of pages read and movies watched.
Only the very first reason for all that effort appeared now… quite silly.
Haruka pushed his face into the pillow, wishing to stop this track of thoughts.
You just couldn’t stand the idea of being without him, could you?
You just had to follow him everywhere, even to Australia, like a love-sick puppy, didn’t you?
He sighed and groaned into the fabric.
You just wanted to see him every day, so you could drool over him and kiss the ground he
walks on.
Ah.
I’m really a horrible, infinite idiot.
No, Haruka decided as he was starting to choke on the pillow that Rin couldn’t ever know
about this Australia idea. The other possibility would be only to die of embarrassment, which
Haruka wasn’t sure, but thought was not a most pleasant way of dying.
An hour later Haruka moved around the still condo, looking for something to do to. There
was nothing on TV that would be interesting enough to keep his mind off the impending race
with Rin.
So it was not a surprise then that he ended up in the kitchen, and after getting reacquainted
with the contents of empty cupboards he pulled on a hoodie and went out for grocery
shopping.
He wouldn’t have said that he liked cooking, probably no. But it came to him like breathing.
It was so similar to the art of painting—wait for the fish to get just the right colour, or just
plain simple—listen for that exact hissing sound marking the correct state of crispiness—
that he, occasionally found shelter in the mechanical movements of his hands above the stove
even beyond the mackerel for breakfast.
It felt almost like a meditation.
And although he hated the idea it was something inherited after his mother, he had to admit
the cooking skills was something they indeed shared.
The sun was already down when Haruka wiped his hands on the paper towel and with a sigh
left the still steaming dinner on the stove. And there was nothing from Makoto on his phone
when he was shutting the door behind him.
***
Clouds were heavy up on the sky, creating a rather dramatic view as they travelled from one
horizon to another. A strangely big moon kept peeking here and there through their reddish
colored wads.
Haruka had plenty of time to study the scene, indeed.
Because it was good thirty-five minutes after their agreed time, but it felt as apart from him
there was absolutely no one in the whole school area. The natatorium would be closed in less
than half an hour.
The unease, which ruled his insides the whole day long, now seemed to grow to a completely
unfamiliar and overwhelming size.
Maybe he doesn’t want to see me after what happened between us.
Haruka checked the display for what was probably the fiftieth time.
Still nothing.
But why would’ve he texted then?
And again, brand new doubts arose from somewhere deep in his chest, although there was
barely place for any already. He had to admit—if he wanted to be completely honest with
himself—that Rin’s message was a big surprise. Yes, of course he remembered yesterday’s
exchange; to say it was unforgettable would be an understatement. He remembered
everything.
Also, how Rin refused to race; how Haruka pushed.
But he didn’t expect him to actually agree on it. And yet, however unlikely it was, Rin went
along with it. Or at least it looked like it, until around fifteen minutes ago, when Haruka
finally understood that who he was waiting there for was probably never going to show up.
With a small shake of his head he pushed himself off the railing and headed for the station.
“Going somewhere?”
Haruka’s head snapped to the shadow under the big tree on his right, and his eyes narrowed
in effort to see into the dark.
He knew the voice all too well to not recognize his owner.
Rin’s face was completely hidden, and it was hard to tell his state of mind when he just stood
there unmoving, with hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. A heavy silence stretched over
the gravel path and the short piece of turf that separated them. Filled with only a soft clicking
sound, which Haruka guessed was coming from keys in one of Rin’s hands, it created almost
unearthly atmosphere. A car’s horn hollered somewhere in the distance.
How long were you standing there?
“You’re late,” Haruka said, at last.

Rin stepped into the white light falling on his head and shoulders from the school’s street
lamp, and shrugged idly.
“You know how it goes. Girlfriends and their needs. You have to satisfy them right then and
there, or else they bite your head off.” Rin actually laughed, although it came out weird and
somewhat creepy. “Or something else."
You.
Haruka blinked, stupefied.
Breathe, Nanase!
“No, I guess I don’t… know how it goes.”
Rin clicked his tongue and raised his right eyebrow in annoyed gesture. “Whatever. So, we’re
already here, let’s do it. I have someone waiting for me, you know.”
You liar.
Haruka turned on his heel and pushed his legs into motion. Grateful for actually being able to
walk, he allowed himself to close his eyes for a second or two, while he was still a few steps
ahead.
Breathe, dammit!
He listened to the sound of reluctant steps behind his back. When Rin’s deep voice cut the air,
the movements of Haruka’s legs fell slightly off the rhythm.
“I hope you have spare jammers, since I haven’t brought any from Sydney.”
No, I bet you haven’t.
It wouldn’t fit into that suitcase packed with fancy clothes she bought you, would it?
“Sure.”
And while the sound of their steps reflected against the walls of numerous school buildings
as they meandered through the wide area, they were both silent. Haruka loathed this kind of
silence—filled with unspoken promises and broken hopes—with everything that there
should’ve never been between him and this man.
His mind ran back to the movie they watched together yesterday.
If only it could be that way forever.
But it couldn’t, that much he knew.
Because despite the fact that Rin was aware of that something between them and felt it with
apparently similar intensity as Haruka, he also seemed to have made a decision against acting
on it. It wasn’t making any sense.
Was it her?
Was it her money?
But as the thought crossed his mind Haruka felt a pang of guilt grabbing onto him for even
thinking something like that. No, Rin was not like that. He would never put someone’s
money, even if it should mean a comfortable life like he’d never had, over his own feelings.
And what was it with his reluctance to swim? Rin’s words kept swirling around his mind the
whole night through.
'Race me.'
'I can’t. And I won’t.'
Did Anna try to forbid Rin from swimming? Why, for god’s sake, would she do something
like that? And, mainly, why the hell would Rin obey such a stupid order anyway? His whole
life was entangled around water, just as Haruka’s own had been.
There was not a slightest chance that either of them could ever be distantly happy without it.
In the deafening quiet of a locker room it was only water drops falling on the tile floor in
adjacent showers that disrupted their seemingly default state of tension. They changed with
backs turned to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other’s bodies a hundred times before
at joint trainings, or before competitions.
“You didn’t forgot your goggles, though,” Haruka said, once they were nearing the pool, and
Rin’s fingers pulled his spare cap over the red hair. It doesn’t seem to fit right, but he didn’t
complain.
Rin shrugged idly. “It’s a lucky charm. Those are to be carried everywhere.”
Haruka’s feet tapped on the stairs of a starter block as he took his position, and his eyes
travelled over the peaceful surface of the water before they rested on Rin’s face next to him.
This is how it should be.
You and I, together.
“What are you staring at?” The words were too loud and irritated, completely misplaced in
the peaceful, quiet atmosphere of an almost empty natatorium, and made Haruka wince. They
attracted odd looks from surveillance staff walking by, preparing the pool for the next day.
Haruka swallowed hard, suddenly overwhelmed by the flood of information coming through
his senses.
The ever present smell of chlorine, which, in his mind, inseparably belonged with the man
standing at his side. A soft movement of the air against the skin of his own naked back; a pull
of the plastic cap over his hair. The way Rin’s fingers quivered when he snapped his goggles’
strap. The shaky breath that came out of the man’s mouth once he, as well, took the position.
Haruka exhaled too, trying to focus on the water.
“Yeah, and about yesterday… don’t read too much into it, Nanase. Things like that happen
between friends… when there’s plenty of booze around.”
And on the count of three Rin’s long body pushed itself into motion, leaving a dismayed
Haruka slightly behind.
He didn’t have time to think, to stomach the words before his legs followed his mind’s order
to move.
But the moment his fingertips opened the cool water’s surface Haruka understood that there
was something very, very wrong about this race.
Chapter End Notes
See you next week!

Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

Soooo, guys,
Two weeks have passed, lots of things have happened - like me destroying my precious
laptop (*crying desperately*) among other things - but finally I’m bringing you another
chapter.
BUT, my beta is on holidays, and if I were to get the betaed version you’d have to wait
another week or so. So to say, I decided to put it here as it is, and fix it later once the
beta is back. If you want to wait for a perfection, you’re free to stop reading now. :))
Nevertheless, I tried to do my best with grammar and everything (yet I’m still only a
poor foreigner, nah).
I checked my notes yesterday, and it seems that including this chapter we have exactly
three more to go until the end of the part one (the division is in my head, I don’t plan to
cut the whole story into actual parts) What I want to say is that I was, gently put,
horrified how much of the story is still before us. Duh. What did I get myself into??
Never mind, if you’re still interested, then read on. ;)
And now I’m finally shutting up!
Enjoy!
It’s almost funny, really, how you seem to remember some things, while others leave your
memory immediately. As if they failed to dig their little hooks into the tissues of your brain,
falling out through the mind’s gates that opened for brand new sights, smells, or tastes.
And, what is worse, there seems to be no system whatsoever to the selection of the important
ones.
For Haruka it was just like that, too.
Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to recall the voice of his dead grandma. He might have
done whatever he could, but he wouldn’t remember how exactly he met his best friend.
Haruka wasn’t sure what classes he had taken last year, or how exactly his exams had gone
while graduating.
He had no idea what he had had for the late lunch yesterday before he ran off for training,
although he’d probably remember if he focused really hard.
Then again, he was perfectly certain of how his grandmother’s Miso soup tasted; he could
recall it as if it just went down his throat—slightly salty, with the exactly right edge of fishy.
He remembered the look in his father’s eyes as his mother gave him last hug before they took
off.
He remembered the exact shade of red hair that had captured his eyes on the other side of the
rails, once the train vanished between him and the surprisingly somber face.
All those memories, which stayed there untouched, were bound to rest dormant somewhere
deep down, only to re-emerge when he last expected them.
And now, as his body laboriously tried to saw through the cool water body, it was the least
needed of them all, resurfacing with intensity that for a second or two made him forget where
he was, and what he was doing.
He blinked behind the goggles, trying to get rid of the vivid memory flashing in front of his
eyes, again and again.
Breathe.
Finish the stroke.
His brain kept yelling commands, but it was almost impossible to focus when there was some
unknown, yet strong force that clawed on his limbs. Haruka did his best to propel his arms,
keep his head in a correct angle, and tried not to drown in the meantime.
Kick with that damned leg.
Kick faster!
Then again—this time more a feeling than anything else—the memory attacked. The
unwanted recollection of how fucking amazing it had been the very first time his body
touched the surface of the water with Rin in it.
Haruka clenched his teeth together, trying to keep his eyes straight on.
But it was as if something crawled all over his skin, disconnecting him from the water’s
helping limbs.
One, two, inhale.
Dammit!
One, two, exhale.
Because the feeling that had accompanied that fatal moment years ago was so different from
what he was experiencing now that it almost made him give up, look to his side and make
sure it was really Rin.
Why?
Why is it so… slow?
Haruka’s lungs laboriously sucked in the air, but with each turn of his head he breathed in
also a small amount of water. The childish mistake would’ve normally cost him any race,
hadn’t there been something seriously wrong with the way Rin swam.
He jumped in first, for god’s sake!
But despite that it took Haruka approximately four strokes to erase the distance, and suddenly
he was taking lead.
Keep your head down.
Keep that damned head down!
Back then, when they were small, it was the everlasting fight between wanting to jump out of
the water because of the shocking current flowing through him and needing to never give up
following that long body. Its movement in an adjacent line dragged him forward as if there
was an anchor set right in his chest.
The electrifying sensation, drawing the oddest kind of excitement, used to make him speed
up—if for nothing else, then for catching the boy and making him pay for the effect he had
on Haruka.
When he had felt it for the very first time, it was also the moment Haruka knew he was lost.
Although he couldn’t have understood the character of the feelings then, even as a child he
knew it was something special.
It used to make his whole body burn, and it wasn’t difficult to figure out why.
He was trying to keep up with the Sun, after all.
And the stars were fiery, burning your skin when you tried to get too close. Everybody knew
that.
Breathe in before the turn.
One, two, now!
But as his feet pushed against the wall and hurting muscles propelled him backwards, Rin
was nowhere to be seen.
Where are you, Rin?
Where the hell are you?

As his fingers cut the surface now, again and again, Haruka gloomily wondered what the hell
had happened to the feeling. His crazily running heart skipped a beat as Rin’s desperate cry
behind him reached his ears.
He’s there, but… it feels as if it’s not him at all.
Haruka fought the urge to look back and rather sent the rest of wavering energy into fingers
catching the water at the end of each stroke.
And no, it wasn’t the water’s fault, not at all.
Haruka felt how much it tried flowing along his back and legs, it indeed did its best. Its utter
effort to help screamed at him; how desperately it wanted to push him faster and faster, to
carry him—to connect with him.
It was urging him forward, reaching its translucent hand towards him.
Come on. Come on!
He threw himself forward with a growl, but it was too far, too flimsy to catch.
Haruka heard the man struggle behind him, gasping for air.
What the fuck is with him?
With us?
Because instead of the raging sun by his side, Rin somehow turned into a heavy moon, the
gravity of which kept clasping on Haruka’s ankles with tidal force.
Haruka had never been this slow in the water before, but what Rin was doing was even more
ridiculous.
It was, truthfully, almost as if both of them had forgotten how to swim.
Not once in his life Haruka prayed to get out of the water so much as he did now. The pool’s
wall seemed to be too far, still out of his reach, even when he pushed his arm forward for the
last stroke. Like a distant shore for a drowning man, it kept running away with each wave
that carried him farther.
And really.
Rin’s weight on his limbs was too strong, too crushing, and the danger of drowning had never
been so real, not even in the wide ocean during the storm when Rei had gotten lost.
Almost there, hah…
There was no one to time them, but as Haruka’s palm finally touched the wall, it took a whole
second for Rin to catch up to him. He ripped off the goggles and the cap immediately, hoping
desperately to break free from that gnawing force.
To no avail, though.
Rin beside him coughed violently, and it felt as if his own lungs wanted to burst out, etched
by the strong reek of chlorine.
What?
I’ve never minded the chlorine before.
But the hurting inside was real, dizzying and leaving him breathless. Haruka still panted
heavily as his fingers curled tighter around the holder on the starter block. He shut his eyes
firmly, hoping to overcome this god-damned queasiness.
“So this is the best the famous Toyo university has up its sleeve, huh?” Rin pushed out, once
his breath evened enough.
The hoarse voice cut through to Haruka’s pulsing brain, but he let the stupid question pass
without reaction.
What was there to say, anyway?
Only the soft sound of water splashing announced that Rin’s body left the pool. But there was
no further tapping of the wet feet against the tiles, nothing that would’ve told him that Rin
fled away, abandoned him once again without a single word. But when the man spoke again,
it shortly crossed Haruka’s mind that it maybe would’ve been the better idea, after all.
“You won… Hope you’re happy now.”
Haruka chuckled darkly, water surface grazing his broken lip.
Happy that I won, hah.
Look at the two of us, Rin.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Rin spat, and Haruka’s eyes finally met his. He was
shaking violently, his body tense as if readying itself for a fight.
Rin, even a starfish would win over you and me today.
“Nothing.”
“My ass, nothing! Say what’s there on your mind, come on!”
Haruka sighed, pushing himself out of the water as well. What the hell was with Rin these
days? Why was he on the verge of a fist fight all the time? And most importantly—what was
it in Haruka that was able to pull the worst out of the man.
“Spit it out. You’re laughing at me, aren’t you? Say it! Say you are!”
“Rin. Stop.”
I would never laugh at you, stupid.
Beat you up for all of this you’re pulling me through, probably.
But never laugh.
A long moment of silence stretched once again between them, but this time there was not a
tension filling the space, no. The waves of numerous emotions vibrated through the air from
Rin’s quivering frame right to Haruka’s heart.
He sat on the edge of the pool and spat on the inner side of goggles, pretending to wash them
thoroughly.
His back was turned to the man, hoping it would give Rin some time to get over whatever he
was battling with. That he would calm down, understanding finally that this race was not
supposed to humiliate him, but the exact opposite.
It was supposed to let Haruka find out what’s there under the surface where it was bubbling
violently, waiting for the right time to explode. He thought that maybe, maybe after
swimming Rin would somehow open up, leave the door inside ajar, so he could find the
answers he so desperately sought.
How wrong he was.
Because when the silent words finally came, they were not understanding. They were not
formulated by an open mind, no.
On the contrary, they were coming from a place somewhere deep, where the rotten relics of
Rin’s confidence rested peacefully under the ground.
“You think you have right to mock anyone, you worthless little faggot piece of shit?”
There was a time, back when Haruka had been much younger—only on the verge of puberty
—when the only person who had ever loved him openly and unconditionally died, leaving
him alone in the old, creaking, spooky house. He didn’t remember what had been said about
her during the wake, but he knew the whiteness of her burial kimono forced him to look
away, burning his retinas.
He couldn’t recall which portrait he chose for the priest to put on the altar, but he
remembered the exact shade of flowers circling it.
Haruka tried, he really tried, but as his face slowly turned towards Rin, he just wasn’t able to
relive how warm her embraces had been, or how her wrinkled face laughed over jokes he,
once in the far away past, was able to make.
Because as his eyes met Rin’s, there was nothing in him that was able to feel anything
beyond what those words caused.
And it didn’t matter that the rational part of his brain knew that Rin didn’t really mean it; that
it was most likely just a reaction of someone cornered, someone horribly unhappy.
Because there was nothing but a dark emptiness inside of his chest now, freezing his ribcage
and turning it into something all too fragile.
All of a sudden, he was made of the glass.
You just…
And he knew as he watched Rin’s expression turn from angry through awed right into
horrified that those words were just enough, just that exact last drop to make it all crumble.
Though the web of cracks started somewhere in his chest, it quickly traveled along his
shoulders to the very tips of his fingers; through hips all the way to his toes.
I just…
It felt like falling, and at the end of this free fall there would be only crushing.
And suddenly it was not Rin standing there, but all of them—screaming, yelling, judging—
each of them with eyes penetrating and full of venom.
He pushed hands to his ears in a futile attempt to silence them.
I… stop it, please…
Nothing could stop them, though, once they, at last, found their way in, right to the core.
'…You’re weak, kid…'
'…You little slut…'
'…Don’t you think… that… dancing’s sort of like… love-making? …'
'…I just can’t love you the way I should, I know it…'
'…You worthless little faggot piece of shit…'

And even when strong arms curled around him, even when Haruka recognized that the hot
breeze in his hair was someone’s breath, it didn’t stop.
I am…
He wanted to fight against the pressure on his skin, to push away the wetness of someone’s
lips on his eyelids, on his forehead, cheeks.
But it was impossible to move.
I am… so lonely.
Only when someone’s gentle tongue eased its way through his lips, and his body shook
violently, it somewhat registered with Haruka that he knew the scent.
That he knew the sound of that breath, although now it came out distorted and rushed.
Rin…
And finally, as if waking up from the nightmare, Haruka breathed in and pulled away from
those lips. Lips, which were able to make everything better, but which could hurt like no
other in the whole world.
The terrified words kept spurting from Rin’s mouth in a mad rush, stumbling one over
another.
“…oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry, Haru. God. Shit. God, don’t cry, Haru, please. I
didn’t mean it. You’re not what I said, okay? You’re not. I am.” Rin’s shaking hands cradled
Haruka’s head, turning his face up to him. “It’s me who’s all that. I’m the waste of space. You
are perfect, you are absolutely perfect, do you hear me? I—I, please Haru, it’s not you who I
was telling that, okay? Please, believe me. Oh god, baby, don’t cry. Please.”
And maybe it was the name used, or the desperate glistening in the red eyes, but Haruka’s
hands shot up shakily, circling around Rin’s neck, pulling himself up—to the warmth of the
other body, to the shakiness of other lips.
Don’t cry, Rin.
And I won’t, either.
This time it was Haruka who pushed forcefully, opened the mouth and searched for
something that had to be hidden there—something only for him. He did it in effort to ease the
pain, to make it an inch better.
To find the answer, which one of them was the crazy one here.
But maybe they both were.
No protest was coming from Rin’s side, and the fact made him bolder with each desperate
swipe of their tongues. His fingers rested on the pale cheek, feeling light stubble scratching
against the palm.
Haruka inhaled deeply the scent of the other’s skin, so close it felt like it was becoming his
own, and heard Rin do the same. Kneeling on the tile floor he felt an arm circling his back,
pulling even closer. A violent shiver ran down his spine as their chests touched, and the other
body followed suit.
Only the wet sounds of their mouths dancing madly, little whimpers and two fast breaths
filled the natatorium’s quiet peacefulness.
You taste so… so good.
And when long fingers dug painfully into his hip, he knew.
You want me.
You want me just as much.
But Rin’s lips were all too soon gone again, leaving nothing but a taste of salty tears, which
Haruka knew were his own.
“Haru.” Rin breathed out his name quiveringly. “This is not… a good idea.”
“I know”—Haruka let out a shaky whimper and wiped his eyes into the soft skin of the firm
shoulder—“that I’m not as good at this as she is, but…”
You were my first kiss, and I…
“Damn, Haru. Stop talking nonsense.”
I know nothing about these things.
“But I can learn. If you teach—”
“Haru.” Rin’s hand, which only a moment ago gently cradled his cheek, now shot up and
pushed against his eyes in a gesture of frustration.
Haruka’s gaze fell onto the tiles under their knees. He let his arms extricate from Rin’s
warmth, understanding that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, nothing could
change this inexplicable rejection.
I’m not going to try again, Rin.
“Haru.” Rin’s voice was apologetic, and the fact made Haruka’s stomach turn upside down.
“It’s just a matter of time. You—you’re gonna forget it… me. It’s better this way, believe
me.”
This is your last chance.
“I’ll be gone soon, and you’ll never have to see my ugly mug again. I swear…”
Because there is a line…
“I swear it’s better this way… for you.”
That no one can cross…
Not even you.
The soft touch on the top of his head felt like a sentence was being passed on him. But before
it was all closed up—a case solved, although without knowing who was actually a victim
here—Haruka had to ask. He must’ve known it for sure. His words were barely a whisper,
but Rin certainly heard, because the breath hitched in his throat.
“Do you love her?”
A silence that fell above the surface of the pool was more deafening, and the truth it hid was
clearer than any words spoken between them before.
“I…” Rin trailed off, but Haruka knew it wasn’t necessary to say it out loud. “I do… love
her.”
It’s all clear, then.
When he wanted to stand up, suddenly there were cold fingers desperately gripping on his
forearm, almost making him lose balance. But Haruka shook them off, easily.
"But—"
“Then you keep those hands for her.”
The floor was cooling his feet as he raised his head high and looked at Rin from above. His
lips were swollen and redder than usual, opened in a silent question. And the red eyes were
glued on Haruka, as if their existence depended on it.
“But the same goes for your thoughts, Matsuoka.”
And there was only lonely emptiness in the locker room as Haruka changed hastily, pulling
jeans over wet swimming trunks and battled with the rest of the things while trying to push
them into the bag.
The tears were not there anymore, but the yell inside had overgrown every other thought and
feeling.
I am…
We’re done.
***
A soft murmur carried through the konbini’s aisles from the radio hidden somewhere behind
the counter right to Haruka’s ears. He sighed, wishing the young girl working the night shift
would turn up the volume. Not that it could somehow silence the noise in his head—he
wasn’t that bold in his wishes—but even those unfamiliar humans’ voices seemed to be better
than a silence.
He’d had his fair share of it the last few days, always filled with something that made him
want to jump out of his skin.
His eyes travelled over the bottles. Damn. How many brands of water did there have to be for
a person to be content? Was there really difference between them? Water was... water, after
all. Haruka wondered what it thought about stupid people caging it into plastic bottles and
putting their names on it.
The phone in his pocket beeped again with a text message.
Haruka’s hand hastily shot up to the glass door and randomly picked up one brand. It would
have to do, since he refused to spend another ten minutes in front of the same shelves.
The girl with two ridiculously looking pink ponytails ripped her eyes from a magazine and
looked at him oddly as he placed the single item on the counter.
“S’all?”
He nodded, motioning towards the radio.
“May I ask you?”
Her eyebrows shot up in a surprise, and he wondered if it was because of his language, or
request. Reluctantly she obeyed, reaching under the counter, and stood up to handle the cash
register. The previously hushed voices at last flooded his brain, and he looked to the side,
relishing the tension inside of the ribcage eased a tiny bit.
And maybe if the silent ringing didn’t come out of his pocket again, he would even be able to
breath for a few minutes. Haruka grinded his teeth, trying to focus on the radio’s weather
forecast.
'On Tuesday the storm was already rapidly intensifying as downpours and strong winds
whipped Kyushu, Shikoku, and Honshu. Rainfall averaged 12-25 mm through Tuesday
evening local time.
The storm has caused thousands of flight delays and cancellations. Some of the crews and
aircraft displaced during the storm will have a ripple effect across the country early this
week.'
“You’re not pickin’ it up?” the girl asked, gaze shifting meaningfully to the still roaring
phone.
“No.”
'Severe turbulence resulted in multiple passengers being injured as a flight from Osaka to
Dallas, Texas crossed near the path of this powerful storm on Tuesday, according to The
Japan Times. The flight had to be diverted back to Narita International Airport.
Wind gusts of 50-65 kph were felt across most of Japan from Monday into Wednesday as the
thunderstorms moved northward and continued to intensify.'
Haruka placed money on the counter once she announced the sum, turning slightly from the
girl, and pretended to study various magazines on the wall.
The phone ringing stopped, only to start once again a few seconds later. He swallowed hard,
forcing his mind to run elsewhere.
But it was impossible, of course.
Because it seemed almost surreal that after months of yearning after Rin, praying for any sign
that he hadn’t forgotten about Haruka’s existence, he was suddenly the one here who drew a
line. The one who made a decision of not wanting to continue this twisted game of fighting,
kissing, biting—hurting each other in any way possible.
He still felt the same; probably nothing that Rin did or said would change easily the way his
heart ran like crazy while thinking about the man. But Haruka was sure this was not how he
wanted it be between the two of them. It was not supposed to be like that—when any
physical contact was preceded by wanting to kill each other. Gripping shirts and throwing
insults.
His mind inadvertently ran to the few heated seconds spent in Rin’s arms.
Damn, I have to stop thinking about it every five seconds.
This had to stop.
Because Rin maybe wasn’t able to make that decision, but someone had to. The bottom line
was that he loved the girl—he said it himself. And while he seemed to be attracted to Haruka
in a, well… some way at least, it wasn’t enough. No, this was something that simply had to
be respected.
If he didn’t love her, if he had answered Haruka’s question the other way, then it would all be
different now.
Haruka wouldn’t have been here in a god-forbidden konbini at the corner of—he didn’t even
know where exactly he was after a mad run from the school’s gate. No, he would’ve been
somewhere else for sure, with Rin… his soft lips, and warm hands, and fingertips traveling
over his skin...
Fuck! Stop thinking about it finally!

But maybe it was all for the better. Because, honestly, what did the two of them really have?
Apart from a constant battle, lies, and the need to swallow each other’s face? Haruka was
sure that had Rin said 'No, I don’t' tonight, he wouldn’t have cared for the real chances they
had, or didn’t have.
He would’ve just dived in without thinking and predicting.
Yet now, when he was actually able to think with something else than his heart and—let’s be
honest, something much lower—he saw how fucked-up it all had been all that time—except
the precious half an hour in the cinema; but even that memory was spoiled by Anna’s
existence looming above them both.
It hardly felt like it was only three short days since Rin came back.
“Damn, just pick it up, already.”
Haruka felt the aggravating girl’s stare at him, and all the pressure inside suddenly uncapped
and burst out with steam. He didn’t even have to open his mouth, because it was obviously all
in his eyes as he turned them her way. She blinked rapidly, taking a step back.
“Geez,” she said, once the surprise receded. “Cool down, man, okay? I didn’t want to
offend.”
She placed the change on the counter and retreated into her corner, muttering silently. Most
of 'freak’s,'…one wants to be civil…', 'lookin’ like Yakuza with that smeared face' and so the
like coming from her Haruka let out as he made his way through the konbini.
But as the evening air cooled his face, he knew she was right. He had to look at the display
eventually, either to check all those messages and missed calls, or just to turn it off. Only
there was still the possibility Rin’s name would be there, and it made his heart flutter.
The other option, though, was that it wouldn’t, and Haruka hated that he disliked this one
even more.
Four missed calls.
Eleven text messages.
Haruka pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to gain some control over himself. But as
he opened the list of missed calls, none of them were from him.
The disappointment was crushing.
He dialled Makoto’s number to return the call and waited until a soft click on the other side
of line announced that connection was made.
“Haru? Where are you?”
Well, that was a good question.

“In Bunkyo,” Haruka said after a while, knowing that the name of a quarter would tell
Makoto next to nothing.
“Uh, okay? Are you at school?”
“No.”
There was a beat of silence while Makoto probably debated if he was supposed to delve
further, or not. Fortunately he decided for the latter.
But his further words, spoken in uncharacteristic urgency, took Haruka aback, anyway.
“Haru, we think we know where Nagisa is. And we don’t have much time.”
***
'Tenkubashi station. Please watch the gap between train and platform. Next station—Haneda
Airport International Terminal Station.'
Haruka’s fingers tapped a nervous pattern on his knee. Hoping to get out of the subway as
soon as possible, he impatiently watched people push inside of the car before the door closed
behind them.
Yet all this pent-up nervousness appeared to be kind of useless anyway. He was sure it was
too late—it was certainly already too late in the moment Makoto was giving him directions to
Akusaka line, which was supposed to get him to the airport. Almost an hour ago.
Nagisa’s flight was sure enough gone for solid three hours now—if it even was his flight,
anyway.
Although Makoto claimed that the airport site announced the flight to Osaka was being
delayed repeatedly for half a day now—because of the never-ending raging storm over the
city—Haruka didn’t want to argue over the fact they had no idea if the plane Makoto and Rei
were chasing was the right one. Nagisa could’ve taken an earlier flight just as well.
Haruka tried to dial the blond’s number one more time, but just like five times before,
nothing happened. A seizure of fear clutched on his stomach.
It was one thing Nagisa wasn’t answering their calls, but as the hotel staff apparently cracked
under Makoto’s and Rei’s persistent pressure, they came to know that the blond had checked
out of the hotel hours ago.
It was easier to deal with an assumption that Nagisa only decided to go home—
notwithstanding if he was still at Haneda right now or not—than even distantly considering
the possibility that the blond was laying somewhere unconscious, hurt or…
No, stop thinking about it, damn.
Nevertheless, the idea of Nagisa flying the coop just like that, without telling anything to
anybody, made Haruka feel guiltier than ever.
Why the hell didn’t I call him?
Why didn’t I tell him it was okay, that I don’t care what he did?
Haruka guessed he had plenty of work keeping his own head above the water most of the
time, but it didn’t make him any less responsible.
But it was more fear than anything else that made him dart in the direction of the closest
subway station despite unbelievable need to bury himself under the duvet and sleep the rest
of the night away.
Please, let him be okay.
He felt frozen in time. Hundreds of people were getting in and off the car; everyone around
him was moving constantly, only he was the only one static.
It was not surprising the airport was bursting with life once he finally arrived and hastily
meandered through the myriads of terminals, gates, and shops. He’d been to the place just
once before, when he had arrived from Iwatobi for the very first time.
It didn’t feel any less confusing and frightening now as the thousands of people of every
nationality, height, weight, and race walked around him. Although he was sure they were not
paying him any attention, it still felt like all of them were giving him odd looks.
He was sure he could walk around the place for hours and not find the way out, least to say
one small person—who was probably not even here in the first place.
The departures board showed Makoto was right about the flight, which still sat unmoved in
the middle of others with a red announcement 'delayed' next to it. The woman in the
information booth finally sent him in the right direction and soon he was almost running
towards the gate.
He halted once it appeared in his field of vision, and a wave of disappointment washed over
him.
Each and every bench was occupied by tens of people—reading, chatting, or just sleeping the
boredom away. But the blond was nowhere to be seen.
Haruka rubbed his face, trying to calm down. Everything in him was jumping in a mad
dance, making his vision slur a bit.
Get a grip, he only took an earlier flight, that’s all.
But it wasn’t that easy. Because he knew that if something happened to Nagisa while he was
roaming confusingly vast streets of Tokyo all alone, it would be his fault. And partly Rin’s, as
well—but it didn’t make his own part any smaller. Haruka leaned on his knees, trying to
overcome the disappointment and anguish, when it happened.
An oversized red-haired man, sitting on the bench afar, leaned to the side to say something to
his companion, and a shock of blond curls hit Haruka’s eyes.
And, to his enormous relief, there he was: curled on the uncomfortable bench with only a
small bag under his head; he was sleeping soundly, with mouth agape and light jacket over
his body. Haruka huffed slightly, taking in Nagisa’s resting face, and slowly made his way
towards him.
Sleeping like that the blond looked much younger than his years.
Haruka took a seat next to him and gently placed a hand on his head—to make sure Nagisa
was indeed alive and well—while the fingers of his other hand fished out his phone to text
Makoto.
A soft 'ugh' escaped from the blond’s lips, and Haruka watched how he was slowly coming to
his senses. Blinking, Nagisa rubbed his face and rose into sitting position. Haruka felt his lips
stretch into a relieved smile, not even trying to fight it.
“Ha—Haru-chan?” Nagisa asked groggily. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, ruffling the blond hair playfully. “Taking you back home.”
“I…” Nagisa trailed off, his eyes traveling over Haruka’s face, before he reached out and
gently touched his chin. “What happened, Haru?”
His voice edged with terror when he said that, and Haruka realized this had to be the very
first time when his name was pronounced without annoying '-chan'. His hand shot up to
examine what the blond was talking about.
But all he felt was a biting sting on his broken lip, nothing out of ordinary. Although when he
looked into the distorted mirror of a metallic trashcan, he saw where Nagisa was coming
from.
Damn, Rin must have opened the wound again as we were… uhm, shit! Don’t think about it!
There was a small blood-red stain smeared from his lower lip down his cheek. He started to
wipe it off vigorously, understanding finally why he was attracting weird looks all around.
“Nothing,” he said, but didn’t hope for a second that Nagisa would let it go just like that.
But blond only stared at him, unblinking, and Haruka watched how the tears started to gather
in pink eyes.
“Who did this?”
“No one.”
Nagisa puffed, realization reaching his voice. “Who did this, Haru?”
“No one.”
“It was Rin, wasn’t it?” Nagisa nodded as if Haruka’s silence was a sufficient confirmation,
and then his whole body curled into itself and his face hid into the fabric of his sleeves.
Haruka blinked, astonished, watching how small body convulsed with suppressed crying, and
tentatively stroke the slim back.
“Nagisa. It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s not, Haru.” The blond lifted up his tears-streaked face, and his voice was breaking
as he was trying to talk through the lump in his throat. “Because it’s all because of me that
you two got into a fight. It wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for me. I’m sorry, Haru. So,
so sorry.”
Haruka sighed, searching for a way to get out of this situation without letting out too much.
But there seemed to be no other way—only telling the truth. He raked his hand through his
hair, frustration and tiredness mounting. Only the hope remained that Nagisa would catch on
fast enough, and mainly that he wouldn’t make a big scene out of it.
“We weren’t fighting,” he muttered, hesitating over this half-true statement. “Or… at least
when that happened.”
A silence.
“Oh.”
Haruka shrugged idly, looking to the side. “Yeah.”
“Oh.” He more heard than anything a widening smile in Nagisa’s voice. “Oh… Oh!”
“Nagisa. Just… keep it to yourself, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” Haruka felt a soft touch on his shoulder. When he looked back at the blond’s
face, he didn’t find a grin, not even a small smile. And the pink eyes were glistening again.
“Thank you, Haru-chan,” he said, voice still thick with tears. “For coming here. Haru, I…”
Haruka sighed, feeling terribly uncomfortable.
“I promise to never break your trust again. I just wanted to—”
“Let’s forget about it.”
And it shouldn’t have been surprising at all when slim arms curled around Haruka and
squeezed with shocking strength. He let out a surprised yelp, grabbing onto the bench for
leverage.
“You’re actually even much cooler than I thought, Haru-chan! How did you even find me
here, though?”
“Makoto’s idea. And let go of me.”
“Sorry.” The blond laughed through the tears while wiping them into his sleeves. “So, ehm,
how did it go? Did you manage to find out something… about Rin?”
Haruka let his eyes travel over the people around and contemplated the question. Now, to find
the answer wasn’t that simple. Because he so didn’t want to fall into a trap of making Rin’s
problems public again. And damn the man obviously had a lot of them.
Haruka’s mind ran back to the harsh words he’d received earlier tonight.
Notwithstanding what was between Rin and him, the man really needed to talk to someone,
not to keep what troubled him for himself. There was something heavy on Rin’s mind,
crushing him, and he indeed needed help with that. The question was rather if Haruka was
able—and mainly willing—to face this evil version of Rin again.
But if nothing else, he did find out something important: after the way Rin swam there was
not a single doubt that the man was the only one responsible for leaving the swimming world.
Unless girlfriends were able to rob you of your ability to swim—which was quite unlikely—
Haruka didn’t think that Anna had anything to do with it.
It didn’t make him like her an inch more, though.
“Guys. Guys!”
Both Haruka’s and Nagisa’s heads snapped to the direction Makoto was running from. He
halted in front of them, heaving and sweating heavily.
Haruka chuckled, leaving Nagisa to comment on the way Makoto’s hand clutched Jane’s
small one. She was catching for breath as well, waved to them instead of saying 'hi' and
leaned on her knees.
“Makoto?” Nagisa’s shocked but amused voice said it all. The pair looked at each other and
blushed nicely.
“Sorry,” the tall man said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “We got lost on the way here.
This place is gigantic.”
“Where’s Rei?” Haruka asked, although the answer was obvious. Unless the two of them
needed the third wheel on their date, Rei was most probably tucked in his bed, soundly
asleep.
And I thought you were talking about him when you said 'we' into the phone like thousand
times.
“Uh.” Makoto scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. “I don’t know?”
“Congrats, you two!” Nagisa laughed, and jumped up to hug them both. Jane’s eyes widened
in surprise as the blond hung on their necks, but Makoto just chuckled, knowing Nagisa well
enough.
“Well, well,” Makoto said, once free, and smiled kindly. “Let’s get home, now that we’ve
found you. We have a long way to go, we can speak our hearts out on the subway.”
Haruka stood up, grateful for such an amazing idea. Anxiousness over Nagisa’s whereabouts
successfully sucked up the rest of the energy that he had left after that unfortunate race with
Rin. But the blond’s face fell all over again, smiling a sad smile that didn’t suit him at all.
“Sorry, guys. I know you mean well, but I have my plane ticket bought, I’m already here,
so… I don’t think I’m going anywhere.” Suddenly he beamed. “But I do appreciate you all
being such a good friends to me, even after what I’ve done. And maybe one day…” He
trailed off, looking at folded arms on his chest. “Maybe one day even Rin will understand.
And maybe he—”
“Nagisa,” Haruka interrupted, and rubbed his stinging tired eyes. He was honestly barely
keeping them open. “If this is about Rin, I think he understands.”
But try as he might, he was not able to elaborate—excruciating tiredness made his brain slow
and heavy. He looked at Makoto, and his friend nodded with a knowing smile. But just before
he turned to the blond, he leaned to Jane’s side and silently apologized for them speaking in
the language she didn’t understand.
Ever the gentleman, Haruka thought and appreciated a warm feeling returning to his bones.
Jane only smiled sweetly, and when her eyes met Haruka’s he knew she was thinking the
same.
“Haru’s right, Nagisa. If you think Rin is mad at you, well that’s probably true. But apart
from it, I also think he understands. For a starter, he knows you just like we all do, so nothing
that you do probably surprises him all that much.” Makoto was saying it with a teasing smile,
and Nagisa actually managed to look affronted.
“I’m not that bad.”
Haruka sat on the bench again, unable to hold himself in the standing position. He leaned his
head against the wall before jumping in the conversation. “You’re a whole new level of
'bad' after that dinner, Nagisa.”
“Nah,” the blond exhaled, but there was something devilish in his look. “I didn’t think you
were gonna complain, Haru-chan.”
Haruka’s eyes shot up to meet Nagisa’s, and he narrowed them in a silent threat. He knew he
was not supposed to let him know about the kiss; he just shouldn’t have. Damn. Now
everybody is going to know it, too.
But the blond only stuck out a tongue his way and looked back at Makoto as if nothing was
said.
“Anyway, I don’t think Rin’s gonna forgive me anytime soon, so…”
“So make him,” Makoto said resolutely. “It’s not like you to give up without giving a try.”
“Mako-chan, should I be the one stating obvious? First, in two days Rin’s gonna be back in
Sydney, second, he doesn’t want to see me again in his whole life—which is a direct quote,
by the way, and third, I can’t get my plane ticket refunded, thank you very much Japan
Airlines.”
Haruka puffed, knowing that nothing of that sort had ever stopped Nagisa before. Especially
as a child he’d wished more than thousands of times to never see the blond again, but it never
worked.
Fortunately, of course.
“I’ll pay for your ticket, if that’s the problem,” Makoto said, unblinking, and a strange feeling
of gratefulness washed again over Haruka.
“Mako…” Nagisa’s eyes were suddenly full of water again. “You’d do that for me?”
The tall man nodded with a smile, and to Haruka’s surprise held Jane around the shoulders.
She bit her lip and turned even redder than before.
A moment of hesitating silence fell between the four.
“O-okay, then. I think… I’m going to try… to get Rin’s friendship back. I guess…”
“Finally,” Haruka said and stood up. “Let’s get home now.”
Makoto looked almost apologetic when he looked his way. “Actually, could we get
something to eat before? We didn’t have anything before we ran here, and Jane’s really
hungry.”
Haruka moaned inwardly.
This day’s never going to end.
It took exactly nine plates of sushi for Haruka to lose patience altogether. Not that he minded
the place his friend with excitedly sparkling eyes chose for dining, but there was apparently
no chance whatsoever to get into bed before midnight if Makoto seriously intended to explain
each and every piece of fish that landed in front of them.
Nagisa just chewed on his meal contently, but Haruka didn’t miss he was uncharacteristically
silent.
“Haru?” Haruka’s eyes snapped to Jane, and she smiled apologetically. “You don’t like your
meal?”
Ah, good.
That English thing again.
He lowered his head, deciding for short 'I do', and Makoto sent him a strange side-glance.
Yeah, well, his best friend was the only one who knew the truth. It was hardly possible to
keep something like studying a language from your roommate. And since it also enabled
them to watch a high number of movies with only English subtitles together, Makoto knew
his abilities all too well.
He so wanted to give her the proper answer, which would’ve been rather sophisticated.
Because not only was the fish over-salted, also the rice was way too vinegary, and the sauce
contained too much soy sauce.
When he looked up, Jane stared at him with strange twinkle in her eyes.
“What do you like about nigiri? That is what you are having, isn’t it?”
Damn, the girl was stubborn.
He sighed, looking to the side. She was probably just trying to be civil, but it was getting
increasingly difficult for Haruka to keep up this stupid game of not-understanding when the
guilt was yelling stronger with every muttered answer.
Just tell them the truth.
They’ll probably just laugh it off.
And the girl looks nice enough, she’s not going to be angry for sure.
No, she ’s just going to look at you as a weirdo as well, telling Rin, and… shut up, finally!
“Because, truth be told, I don’t see any difference in taste,” Jane said finally, laughing
awkward silence off. “They’re all the same for me.”
“They are not the same. The three nigiri pieces demonstrate a progression of fat content,”
Haruka said in Japanese while leaning forward and pointing towards the pieces. “It usually
starts with the lean maguro, then it moves on to the fattier chu-toro, and it ends with a piece
of o-toro.”
Makoto laughed bitterly. “Haru, I don’t think I can translate that.”
“Yeah.” Nagisa finished chewing. “And Jane’s definitely not interested in it, anyway.”
“She wanted to know,” Haruka said, affronted.
A strange silence fell on the table while they were eating, and he thought if it was ever going
to change. But too soon Jane stood up from the table, turned to Haruka, and motioned
towards the counter.
“Please, Haru, would you help me pick up something really good? I can see you know what it
should look like."
Damn, this is hell.
Why can’t I be in my bed instead?
He reluctantly followed, too tired to think of any excuse, and stood next to her once she
leaned against the counter. It took her exactly five seconds and one short glance back to the
table before the flood’s gate opened.
“You think I’m stupid, Haru?” she asked, looking directly at him—not even trying to speak
slowly, or pronounce with special care.
In an instant Haruka turned into a stone statue, unmoving and petrified. He loomed over the
menu on the counter, unable to even swallow, while the horrible realization reached his brain.
She knows.
“You must, because otherwise I can’t explain what you’re doing now.”
A short while stretched, and good ten seconds ticked away before his heart finally restarted.
He rubbed his face, trying to wipe away brand new layer of sweat forming on his skin.
Her voice was silent when she spoke, but despite his best effort Haruka wasn’t able to
recognize traces of disapproval.
“Even before Makoto admitted it, I knew you understood everything from the moment we
were introduced in front of the restaurant. And then as Anna and Rin fought in front of
you…” She paused, waiting for him to meet her stare. “You’re really not as good at
controlling your emotions as you think.”
I am, unless Rin is concerned.
And by the way wrinkles formed around her soft pink lips Haruka realized that she was not
judging him, per se—only wanting to get this idiotic game over before Nagisa’s ever curious
eyes rested on them again.
“Look, I don’t want you to feel attacked, or something. Haru, I do respect your privacy. See, I
don’t really care what you’re doing it for.” He watched her lean her elbows on the counter
and wave an elderly Japanese cook away with a smile and a slight bow.
She took a deep inhale as if bracing herself for saying something difficult and hid her face in
small palms before looking at him with glistening eyes.
“Jeez, this is hard,” she whispered, clutching a button on her shirt. “But I really need to talk
to you about something, Haru. And you and I speaking the same language will save us a lot
of time and energy. So… would you please stop making a fool of me now?”
Talk to me about something?
Don’t tell me there’s more news I don’t want to know about.
But the look in her eyes was almost frightened when she turned them his way—almost as if
she was more afraid of what was about to come than Haruka himself—and it somehow
helped a resigned sigh to escape his mouth. He nodded once, hoping that this wordless
answer would be sufficient.
“Okay, okay,” she said, nervousness shaking her voice. “So, uhm, then I think I’m going to
ask first… how did the race go tonight?”
Haruka’s eyes snapped to her worried ones, and shrugged neutrally.
So Rin told her.
Does Anna know, too?
“Alright, I guess.”
“Haru,” she said, her fingertips tapping nervously on the wooden surface. “I’d really like you
to be more specific. It’s very, very important for you to tell me exactly how it went.”
The memory of Rin’s hurting words re-emerged, only to be replaced by the one of his
burning skin and magical work of his lips and tongue. Haruka swallowed, fighting the
electricity running through his veins.
So she wants to know exactly how it went, hah.
I highly doubt it.
He scratched his cheek, trying to find more suitable answer. “I won, he lost.” But with every
passing second Jane seemed to become more and more impatient.
What does she want me to say?
He added when nothing was said for a long while, “Well, it was pretty miserable on both
sides, if you have to know.”
“Shit.” Haruka’s eyes widened over the sudden outburst and flicked to the small fist that
smacked the surface of the counter. “That’s what I was afraid of,” Jane said, and then
muttered to herself, “He must be devastated.”
Haruka looked up, unable to push down an already familiar anxiousness.
“Devastated?”
Her lips pushed into thin line, and she nodded, reluctantly.
“Haru, you have no idea how much it meant for him.” Her whole body turned to Haruka, as if
she wanted to emphasize the words. “How important racing you tonight was.”
Important?
Meant a lot to Rin?
And Haruka wanted to laugh over this far-fetched reasoning, he really did. Because it was
easier to be angry at that cocky and aggressive idiot, who at one moment called him a faggot
and in the second pushed tongue down his throat. Much, much easier to feel hurt and
humiliated by the way Rin had left him waiting there for more than half an hour before he
even showed up, not to mention how he acted afterwards.
Though as memories of the race were slowly settling down, alongside emotions that
accompanied it towards its end, Haruka was finally starting to think more clearly.
And he knew like nothing else that when it came to Rin, this kind of stupid behavior was
never what it looked like on the surface.
So… could it mean that he was just… that much nervous?
And that much disappointed after they finished that he was unable to contain himself?
Is that why you lashed out at me like that?
“So if what you’re saying is true, then…” Jane trailed off, shaking her head slightly.
Haruka felt his blood pressure rise. Because she obviously knew. She knew everything there
was about this mystery, and he was suddenly so close to finding out that it made his knees
weak.
She has to tell me.
If I have to skin her alive, I would, but she’s gonna tell me everything.
He straightened in front of Jane, making her eyes meet his.
“Why don’t you tell me already? Why has he stopped swimming? What happened? Has he
been injured?” Haruka threw question after question with a slightly rising voice. And when
no reaction except blinking rapidly and letting out a shaky sigh came from her, he dared to
place a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed gently. “Please, Jane, tell me. I have to know.”
“I can’t, Haru.” Soft blue irises turned his way. “I wish I could, but… frankly, he’d kill me
even for this conversation, if he ever came to know it took place. But as a matter of fact—the
answer to your last question is a 'no'.”
Just tell me, for god’s sake!

I’ll do anything.
And all of a sudden there were warm fingers curling around his palm, squeezing tightly.
“But, I can tell you this. I know what you’re trying to do… that you want him to get back to
swimming. And despite all… the things that happened and I can’t talk about… it’s something
that’s worth a try. I talked to Rin today, Haru, I did. I watched him torture himself all day
long before this race of yours, and he wouldn’t admit it, but… I think he wanted to let you do
it, tonight. He’s trying, he’s really trying his best here, Haru.”
Is that why you came to meet me, after all, Rin?
Haruka let out a puff of air, and shook his head.
“You have to give me some clues, here. If you want me to do something, you have to tell me
more.”
She nodded understandingly, but the tone in her voice as she spoke was final. “I know it’s not
a lot, but it has to be enough. It’s his prerogative to decide how much he lets you in, not
mine.”
He would have never let me even so far in the first place, if it wasn’t for Yamazaki ’s games.
How I’m supposed to know what to do, when I don’t even know what the problem is?
“Then why are you telling me even this much?” he asked, irritated by the vagueness of each
and every answer he was getting.
There was a long moment of silence before she spoke again.
“Maybe it’s not that apparent, since you haven’t spent much time with us, but Rin has
become very close to me. I didn’t know him for most of my life like you have, Haru, but I
live with him, and we’ve been spending each day together for months. I love him as if he was
my own brother. But… that doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything he does.”
Haruka exhaled tiredly, not anticipating any concrete information anymore. But to his
surprise, for once she gave him one. “Like when he gives up the only thing he loves more
than anything.”
“I don’t know,” Haruka pushed out after a while. “What to do.”
The small hand once again rested on the back of his own. “Just don’t give up on him, Haru.
Never.”
Haruka blinked, confused. “I—I won’t.”
Jane nodded. “Because I know you, and I am sure you can help him.”
She knows me?

What does she mean?
“Ah,” she said with a smile, probably noticing his confused expression. “I keep forgetting
you don’t know me the way I know you. I’m really sorry.”
Was it his exhausted brain, or did this girl always speak without actually saying anything?
“Oh Haru, you have no idea”—he looked up at her whispered words, and his heart jumped
—“how much I know about you.” Her fingers squeezed his hand tightly, making him
understand without unnecessary words.
He talked about me.
He talked about me a lot.
Oh, Rin.
You stupid, stupid idiot.
“Thank you,” Haruka whispered back, reciprocating her stare with strength he’d have hardly
found in him half an hour ago. She nodded with a sad smile.
“Just remember that what Rin lacks the most now is something only you can give him. That
much I’m positive about.”
What he lacks the most…?
Oh, I give up.
With a resigned sigh Haruka decided to leave the thinking for tomorrow. It was impossible
now when he was already sleeping on his legs. His eyes wandered over her shoulder where
the TV was on, news showing footage of a raging thunderstorm.
And even in the state he was in, Haruka was able to realize that, ironically, the storming
weather torturing Japan last few days turned out to be quite useful in the end. Only thanks to
it Haruka was able to catch Nagisa before he flew away, and also got another piece of this
puzzle called Rin from this courageous girl.
He would have said it was fate, if he believed in such stupid things.
Jane turned towards the table, but before she could run off Haruka’s hand shot up to her
forearm. He needed to make sure she understood. Because maybe she didn’t give him much,
maybe she didn’t say a lot, but it was clear that she was going out of her way trying to help
Rin—and that made them on the same page. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t going to
betray her trust.
“Jane, I won’t tell anyone we met here.” His gaze flicked to the table. “Although I can’t
guarantee Nagisa won’t blab about it to someone.”
She smiled nicely, understanding immediately what he meant. “Oh, no problem. Rin knows
I’m out with Makoto and Anna’s out of town, anyway.”
“Out—out of town?” he asked, confused.
Jane glanced at him shortly and sighed.
“Well, yeah… Her dad took her for a day out of Tokyo, they apparently have this summer
house somewhere close.” She fell silent for a moment, filled with a soft scratching sound of
her nail on the plastic restaurant menu. “After what happened yesterday she really needed it,
so I’m actually glad.”
Haruka stared at her, distraught completely by the sudden outburst of thoughts in his tired
brain.
Out of Tokyo?
For the whole day?
Hah…
Rin-Rin.
So much for satisfying your girlfriend’s needs.
Haruka knew he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t have let the happiness wash over him just
because of the single piece of information, but any fight was futile. The emotions ran wild
without any other impetus needed.
Rin was not hers today.
Rin was not naked with her today.
Rin did not come apart in her body today.
And while Haruka knew it was just this one day that Rin didn’t sleep with the girl, although
there had been others before, and many more were yet to come, he couldn’t care. At least
today it was just Rin’s stupid and unexpectedly uncovered way to protect himself from
Haruka, and nothing more.
He felt his blood run wildly, and it was a feeling so dazzling, so unimaginable that he was
pretty sure he was not standing on the ground, but rather floating above Jane’s blond head.
And the feeling stayed with him on the subway ride, and also as Jane said her good bye and
Makoto left with her, walking her to Anna’s place. It didn’t change a bit when he and Nagisa
were cutting distance from the station to his home.
And it was also the main reason why it hadn’t occurred to him sooner that the text messages
still lay there unread—and that maybe, maybe, not all of them were from his best friend.
Haruka kept ascending the stairs up to his condo when a shaky finger finally opened the
inbox.
And his heart flew out of his chest right up onto the building’s roof.
Tachibana Makoto:
[Haru, call me. 20:05 ]
Matsuoka Rin:
[You’ve forgotten your goggles and a cap. I left them with the janitor 20:36 ]
[Haru 20:47 ]
[Please, forgive me 20:48 ]
[Or no, don’t forgive me. It’s better this way. Go on hating me. 21:03 ]
[I never meant to hurt you, I really didn’t 21:13 ]
[I can’t stand it, damn. I can’t be the one who makes you hate me. 21:36 ]
[Haru, damn 21:40 ]
[Just say something, please. 21:58 ]

[Fine, I fucked up, okay? I deserve everything you’re giving me now. But, fuck, Haru
22:15 ]
[I can’t stop thinking about you. 22:19 ]
Haruka’s legs almost missed the threshold as his eyes ran again and again over the last text
message. Blood ran crazily through his veins, and after a few light-speed circuits throughout
his body it rested in his cheeks, heating them up.
And all of a sudden there was a strangely warm, unknown feeling, so similar to the butterflies
they talk about—that should fly in your stomach when you’re in… love.
Haruka took his shoes off without giving them one look, not daring to let his eyes wander
anywhere from the display. It was possible that the sentence was just a product of his
imagination and it would disappear if he didn’t hold it in its place.
In love…
Am I?
I guess it’s so.
“Haruka-kun?”
The smile that had formed on his lips and threatened to connect on the other side of his head
fell down in an instant. He blinked at the unexpected sight inside of his own apartment and
halted half-way through the genkan, right next to equally confused Nagisa.
And only when the blond’s voice finally cut through the silence, it somehow registered with
him it was not a dream.
“Anna-kun?”
Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

Heya, guys!!
I hope you’re all well and eager for reading, since I’m finally back. Sorry you had to
wait, but you’re going to find out why right now. There’s so much I want to say to you,
but as I know myself I’ll forget half of it, duh...
First of all, today you’re gonna get two chapters at once - but both together marked as 8,
no reason to divide it. You’ll see while reading what I’m talking about though. I think of
doing the same with the following two so we’ll get over part one of the story as soon as
possible. There’s this short story contest I want to participate in, and I need my head
clear of this story for a while, AND the deadline is too soon.
Second thing: there are some things in this chapter regarding qualifying for participation
in swimming competitions that I just simply made up, since I couldn’t find anything
about it on google and I needed it for the story later - just so you know that it’s most
probably not like that in reality ;)
Third: Once again I’m mentioning, but not showing Haru’s job. I’ll get better in the next
chapter, I promise.
Fourth and most important: I don’t really know how or why, but I’ve seem to lose my
beta... Whatever happened though, I’m in a search for someone out there, who would be
willing to do that for me. I know it’s a lot – my chapters are soooo long, but it’s just one
reading before I update.
So if YOU are somewhere there, PLEASE let me know either in comments or to

enceladusaao@gmail.com.
As the matter of payment there shall be my love and endless gratitude. ;)
So, let’s get to reading finally, enjoy!
Ninety-six thousand and something yen.

That’s how much Haruka had in his account last time he checked. It wasn’t anywhere close to
wealthy, no. But he was getting by somehow. From month to month, waiting for a thin
paycheck—only to add to that little he already had.
But Haruka never needed much. Then again, what would he spend his money on?
There was no one important in his life to give presents to, no one to take out and buy stupid
worthless things like souvenirs from places he wished to never forget. There was no one who
would want him to get a cone of ice-cream when summer’s worst heat wave hit, or a hot tea
after a vicious snowball fight on a freezing January afternoon.
There was indeed no one.
Ninety-six thousand and something.
You could do only so much with this amount. Staring out of the window, Haruka pondered
how far it would get him, if he now, in this very moment, made a reckless but oh-so-freeing
decision to leave Tokyo for good.
But where would he go, anyway? Back to Iwatobi? Or out into the world he knew nothing
about?
Would it be even enough to get him out of the country?
The twinkling little light was slowly making its way through the pinkish night sky. His eyes
seemed to be glued to that small, almost imperceptible dot, as if it represented something
akin to a real escape from the scarce space of the dusty room he now shared with her. He
wanted to reach out and capture it into his hand; make it stay here with him. Here, where the
two of them had become characters of a horror movie’s deleted scene—fictional people
forever imprisoned in one room, bound to never get out. Doomed to hate each other until
both went mad for good.
Eight minutes ticked away without a sound.
What are you doing, Rin?
Where were those people on the plane heading, anyway? Holidays, work, family—it could’ve
been anything, really. But one thing was clear.
That they, unlike Haruka, had somewhere to go.
Sitting on Makoto’s chair, Haruka clutched the phone in his lap as if it was the last straw for a
drowning man. Hidden in the shelter of his sweating palms, the device felt like the only
source of warmth in the whole universe. The beacon of false hopes that he still wanted to
believe, despite the fact that with every beat of his stupid heart they died, like flowers on the
window Makoto kept forgetting to water.
In the too strong light falling from a ceiling lamp Anna’s face looked like one of a ghost.
Contemplative and calm, she seemed completely unfazed by Haruka’s presence. As if he
wasn’t worth her attention, as if he wasn’t even there.
As if he didn’t exist at all.
I can’t do this alone, Rin.
Her unmoving figure stood in front of Makoto’s humble library with only slender fingers
running over books’ backs, and he felt almost obligated to observe her profile. To watch how
the curve of her shoulders changed with every breath she slowly, carefully took. How her
white knee-length skirt hugged her hips and accentuated the flawless body.
His eyes were looking at her, but his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere in the dark
where a long, firm body lay on a still bed, fingers curled around a device similar to the one
caged in Haruka’s own hands. Waiting for a response to the text messages that wasn’t coming
his way.
You can’t stop thinking about me.
The thought made his tired body heat up with a white hot flame again and again, like a lit
match would do to damp wood; no matter how many times the fire inside died, extinguished
by coldness around, the spark that was Rin’s words always made everything hot afresh. Yeah,
mere hours ago Haruka had been standing in a small konbini, all riled up and bitter, firmly
decided to let go. And unbelievable as it was, it took only one stupid sentence to change it.
I’m an idiot.
But I can’t help it.
He ran his thumb over the unlit display, greasy from his sweating fingers, wishing to know
what to feel. What to think of it all.
A car’s door closed on a street outside with a loud thud, attracting his attention. A suited up
driver leaned against the high-polished, pitch black limo and lit a cigarette. It was highly
unlikely a car like that would’ve found itself coincidentally at such a lousy place as he and
Makoto lived.
No, it was waiting for her.
Where are you, Rin?
Haruka snapped back to the present when her words finally came, and swallowed hard.
"You never struck me as a literate type."
He blinked, his heart skipping a beat over the shocking sound echoing against the walls of the
quiet room. She let out a slow, deep breath, an air of some unknown decision floated around
her. Haruka wondered whether it was supposed to be an insult, or just a way to postpone an
inevitable conversation.
It’s here.
Haruka’s lungs were barely cooperating when he pushed words through his lips.
"They’re Makoto’s."
"Ah, I see."
It’s starting.
A silence ruled again, trying to shut down his exhausted mind like an overheated computer
battery. He rubbed his face in an effort to keep the wildly jumping emotions under control. It
was getting harder and harder with every passing second though. Maybe it would’ve been for
the better if he just started it himself—at least they would’ve gotten over this torture sooner.
What was she waiting for?
She was going to speak, and it was clearer than the pool water that she wasn’t here to discuss
weather and Tokyo’s architecture.
No, they were going to talk about Rin.
Anna was here to set things straight, and he was so miserably unprepared for the attack that it
made him want to open the door and run away like a small boy would from a dentist’s
appointment.
But it wasn’t as if he was afraid of the girl.
Rin, I need you.
No, if he was really scared of something, then it was himself.
Because underneath the heavy load sitting on his chest, Haruka wasn’t exactly sure what he
felt now that she was here. Every single time this girl crossed his path, he was lost within all
existing depths of misery, some of them taking the face of jealousy, some of pure guilt.
But here and now, there was something new, something ugly, awfully searing inside of him—
ignited by her presence, by the absurdity of the situation he’d gotten into. By the flaring need
to stand up and run back into Rin’s safe arms, a thirst impossible to quench because of
Anna’s existence.
It was a rage so consuming that underneath its moving mass Haruka was terrified it was
going to burn him and everything around him into ashes.
Because now that he had her here, everything that had been gathering inside of his chest for
days, every worry, every fear, every hope, every single fucking thing was stirring in a big
bubbling pot, blending into overwhelming darkness inside. Little did Anna know how the
content of this dangerous potion was already spilling over the edge.
And as she turned her piercing eyes his way, Haruka understood that what he needed more
than anything now was a handbrake he could pull to stop himself.
"Say you were in my shoes, what would you do?"

Haruka tried to unclench his teeth at least a bit so it would be possible to speak.
"I don’t know."
Despite everything he indeed tried his best to give her an honest answer. Because he didn’t
know what to do while being in his own skin, let alone in someone else’s. Her blue eyes were
on his face, curious and searching, before she stopped right in front of him, and the heart in
his chest galloped.
Rin.
"Haruka, let’s end this. Alright?" She seemed to be waiting for an answer, but all he could do
was reciprocate her stare and keep his limbs still—it was far better for her own good if
Haruka stayed unmoving at the moment. But her voice was calm even when she spoke again,
and he wondered if she noticed at all what was happening right in front of her eyes.
Get out before it’s too late, girl.
"I know what you’re trying to do."
Now this was starting well; if nothing else, she managed to pique his interest. With lips
desensitized as if they didn’t belong to him, Haruka was hardly able to speak.
"Yeah?"
"And I’m here," she continued as if he didn’t say anything, "to ask you to stop."
Haruka narrowed his eyes. It was one thing to say what was there on her mind. To clear the
air. She was free to try threatening if so she liked—it wouldn’t have had any effect anyway.
But it was something completely different to order him around. A whole new wave of anger
washed over him, weakening the strength of his inner boundaries even more.
"You don’t say."
And suddenly it didn’t matter that the constructively thinking part of his brain knew she was
not any evil. That it wasn’t anything personal—if it wasn’t her, it could have been any other
girl in her place. That she was nothing more than an unwilling part of this fucked-up
situation, where the three of them unintentionally found themselves—and although it was
wrong on so many levels it made his head spin, she didn’t want this anymore than he did.
She blinked in surprise, and Haruka realized with a start she wasn’t expecting him to put up
any fight. Well, he thought, in that case she was fatally wrong. He watched her put some
distance between them as she circled the room, and his insides bubbled over the audacity of
her eyes touching Makoto’s and his own things. She was not supposed to be here.
No, it didn’t really matter anymore that he could never stand up and yell, that he had no right
to tell her to fuck off from Rin’s life. That she might have been the biggest bitch in the whole
world, but she was still Rin’s girlfriend. That she had every right to claim her rights.
That he had none.

Because she was here. Because she dared to lay her damned foot on his own territory,
disrupted the only place he was able to find any semblance of peace.
And, mainly, because there was that truth hidden within the chips of a muted device—a few
ones and zeros that didn’t mean a thing unless they were coming from Rin’s fingertips,
perceived by Haruka’s traitorous eyes, and brought to life by viciously contracting heart
muscles.
Then they meant everything.
"I’m tired of it all, you know?" she said at length, and her voice indeed carried heavy traces
of exhaustion, as if she hadn’t slept for a long time. "I’m trying to not look at you as a bad
person, but you’re not helping me here."
A bad person?
No, she had no idea at all as she slowly made her way towards Haruka that the extreme
fatigue made him over-sensitive to every input coming in through his senses. That instead of
dulling the roused emotions, it made them go berserk within his ribcage.
The plastic cover of the phone screeched under his deadly grip. When she spoke again
quietly, her voice was smooth as the lines of her body.
"Haruka." Her commanding voice raised something dark from the depths of his mind. "Stop
using swimming to steal what’s mine."
Using swimming?
...?
Haruka furrowed his eyebrows, unable to believe what he’d just heard. "I’m not stealing
anything."
A silence.
"Aren’t you?"
What was he supposed to say to that? Was she being serious?
Was Anna here because she though the race tonight was a means Haruka used to get into
Rin’s pants? How absurd. She apparently didn’t have a clue about the way the two of them
functioned, or how much they cared about each other.
"No."
Why the hell did Rin even tell her about it?
"I don’t see it that way," she said, raising her voice slightly.
I just want him to be happy.

"That’s your problem."
With, or without me.
"It’s our problem, Haruka."
When her hands curled into fists and her eyes clouded with a storm, Haruka wondered what
kind of turmoil was happening inside of her own mind. Because her gaze never wavered, and
maybe she stood a good two meters from him, but if she was on the other side of an ocean at
the moment, it would’ve felt too close anyway. Blue to blue—both searching for answers
without needing to ask, both dying to get out of this as winners.
No matter how ugly the fight had to be.
"I’m not doing anything like that. Rin’s free to do whatever he wants."
"Well, apparently you are," Anna said calmly again, but even from the distance he noticed
how strands of the black hair falling into her face trembled. "Since I can’t see any other
reason why would you take advantage of your shared past in such a vile way."
“He wants to swim," Haruka muttered.
"You don’t know a thing about what he wants," Anna hissed. “Or needs.”
Maybe I don’t.
Haruka snickered. “You’ve only known each other a few months. What can you know?”
But you don’t, either.
She straightened again, letting her arms fall to her sides.
"I don’t get it." Anna shook her head after a little while, looking expectantly at him. Almost
as if she indeed longed for an answer. "This swimming obsession of yours. And the rest of
your herd as well. It’s all in the past, now. Why can’t you just let Rin be? Why, pray tell, do
you keep pushing him into something he’s second-rate at? What are you getting from it
then?"
Second-rate?
Rin?
"What?" Haruka’s voice quivered, keeping his inner screaming inside by the very tips of the
fingers.
Are we even talking about the same person?
Because, yes, the race tonight was everything but top-class, yet talking about Rin as second-
rate was the most absurd thing Haruka had ever heard leaving Anna’s mouth. After all, each
and every athlete had his better and worse moments; it was as inevitable as the possibilities of
a human body.
She shook her head, eyes stuck on Makoto’s tatami.
"No, uh-uh, you won’t fool me, Haruka. Not me. You’re trying to pretend there’s some
honorable reason to your actions, while we both know what it is you want from him.” She
paused, pursing her lips in disgust. “In that club—you and that other guy showed us what you
are. See, I have nothing against it, strictly speaking, you being a gay has nothing to do with
me."
What the hell?
He didn’t know what pissed him off more; if it was the fact she accused him of using low
methods to steal her boyfriend, or the way she made the most precious feelings he harbored
for Rin look like something he should’ve been ashamed for.
"Are you done?" he spat and slowly rose up.
"No, I am not done. Stop confusing him."
Haruka growled through the gritted teeth and took few steps towards the door, passing her
unmoving figure. His hand shot up to wipe the sweat from the burning face.
Fuck.
Did she have a slightest idea how impossibly hard it was to stand here just like that, to
contain everything inside that was screaming for violence?
Maybe she did, because when he turned around and his eyes met hers—despite the words that
came out of her mouth—there was a flicker of something else behind her blue eyes, and a
nervous tic in the corner of her lips.
"I’m not afraid of you."
Well, maybe you should be.
The silence fell onto the room again, and only the pain in his wrist reminded him that the
phone was still trapped in the vice grip of his hand. Finger after finger he released the
pressure and with a shake of his head let it fall onto Makoto’s bed.
Unbelievable.
Fucking unbelievable.
It was really time to move on. No matter how much time they were going to spend battling
over this topic, nothing that each of them said could change the other’s opinion. She wanted
to see him as a villain, well… that was her right. But she meant nothing to him, nothing at all,
and Haruka didn’t give a slightest shit about what she thought of him.
The display lit up as the phone touched the sheets, showing an unread message. Haruka
blinked, fighting the jumping in his stomach.
"Look," she said, attracting his attention back to her. "I know you despise me, yours and
Rin’s friends despise me, everybody does." She glanced Haruka’s way when he stayed silent.
"How nice of you to not pretend otherwise."
He shrugged and held her stare. "I thought you wanted to be honest."
Her eyes narrowed and she spat, furiously, "Don’t think for a second that I give a damn about
it." Her eyes burned holes into his face, and she was shaking more and more with each
passing second. "But don’t pretend to know anything about me when you don’t."
I don’t want to know anything about you.
"Same here," was the only thing Haruka was able to push out as he reached for the device
once again.
"Let him be, Haruka. I’m the best he can have. I know it, he knows it, and you know it too."
He looked up from the phone, the beating in his chest louder than ever before. Was it even
possible for a human heart to work so hard and not fail?
And she was probably right; she was the best Rin could have. She was pretty, and smart, and
wealthy. She was not a coward; she was brave enough to come here tonight to protect what
she thought was hers. But as he stared at her, he knew one thing that she didn’t.
Matsuoka Rin:
[I need to be with u now. Have to see u. Please, Haru, 23:31]
That she was not the one Rin craved at the moment.
"Reasonably put, however it was, or is, between you and him, I am the one who can give him
something you never will." She was studying the cracks on the wall. "Like acceptance of the
world. A normal life... an easier life."
Her words echoed in the quiet room, his exploding chest, and the space around the planet,
which kept spinning as if one of the most important moments of his life wasn’t just
happening. The sound of waves that filled his ears was unstoppable, making him almost miss
her further words.
"You’re lucky we’re leaving in two days, Haruka. You wouldn’t like to have an enemy like I
could be."
Rin needs me now.

Thump.
He watched her cross the room placidly and placed a palm on the door just as she reached for
the handle. Her eyes shot up to meet his, filled with slight confusion and something
undecipherable.
He needs me.
"He’s not going anywhere," he whispered into her face and observed with sickening pleasure
how her eyes widened, surprised by unexpected audacity.
Thump, thump.
And as he opened the door for her and gently pushed against her lower back to get her out of
the room, Haruka never let go of her stare. "I’ll make sure of it."
Anna’s lips pursed into a thin line, and it wasn’t hard to see she was fighting for control.
"Strong words coming from someone like you."
He looked right into her eyes and saw something new, something that he’d never seen there
before—a desperation; a flicker of a lonely darkness that kept swirling inside of his own
chest. Standing here in front of him, Anna was ready to do anything to never lose Rin; she
was more dangerous than ever.
But she was not the only one stubborn here.
Haruka shrugged, and he was sure there was a small twisted smile forming on his own lips as
he held out a lit display in front of her eyes, letting the last few messages of the one-sided
conversation seep through her senses.
And then he waited.
What am I doing?
The thought shortly flickered underneath the thunderstorm of his emotions, but this highway
had no exits; once he took this direction he had to reach the finish line. He waited, and
waited, and waited, until she blinked in complete disbelief, and her cherry-red lips fell open.
What the hell am I doing?
Because he was willingly, consciously hurting this human being, knowing all too well what
was happening inside of her right now. Because it couldn’t have been any different from what
he was going through last few days.
And yeah, he despised himself at the moment, but there was not a way back now.
Not when she said those words; when she opened her mouth and actually used an 'easier life'
in the very same sentence with Rin’s name. Anna might have searched for a thousand things
to say, and still she’d have never found two things less compatible.
No, she didn’t know a thing about Rin.
Because, hell, Rin was not like that at all. Rin was the one who would’ve gone to the end of
the world and back just to make one stupid dream happen—and it didn’t matter if it was his
own, or someone else’s. Rin would’ve worked his ass off only to become a better swimmer,
better friend, better brother. A better person.
No, Rin had never been the one to choose an easier life.
An easier life... that’s me, not him.
And it was true, indeed. It was Haruka’s, not Rin’s style to always, always choose the easier
way, to avoid everything bothering and annoying. Anything that would actually expect him to
act, to work for something. Every day of his life had been just like this.
Until he met that stupid, beautiful idiot.
Because with Rin everything was work. To keep up with him in a pool was work, to keep his
guard up because some brand new biting remark could come his way was work. To keep his
eyes from roaming over Rin’s body all the time was work. Even breathing while being in the
same room was work.
And unbelievable as it was, Haruka didn’t mind it a tiny bit.
I’m coming, Rin.
And just like that, with two simple words Anna showed Haruka something crucial. That she
might have been in love, might have been willing to fight for her feelings, but the one she
loved was, simply put, not Rin.
Not the real, genuine Rin—the one with messy hair and toothy grin; the awkward, gentle kid
who was dying to appear much cooler and rougher than he was, but never cared too much
about it once he realized he was loved. The one who, despite years of trying, was still nothing
more than a small red-haired boy inside, always on the verge of tears.
No.
She was in love with this strange, unfamiliar short-haired version of Rin that almost never
smiled. Who was willing to give up on something he loved the most, something that used to
be his everything. His dream. And this, this was something Haruka would never understand.
I’m coming to you.
Because the honesty of Rin’s ambitions and unrelenting stubbornness was exactly what made
him perfect.
So until this real Rin was somewhere there, peeking over the walls painted in fancy colours,
Haruka wasn’t willing to let go.
Up until she came here tonight, it was all about swimming, yes—the thought of taking a step
forward and reaching for Rin’s heart never seriously crossed his mind.
But she managed to change it.
No, it didn’t matter at all what the person, standing in this room, thought about him. It didn’t
matter what she knew, or didn’t know, about his feelings for Rin. It didn’t mean a thing that
she was far better for the man, that she was smarter, wealthier, that she could give Rin
everything.
He could never give up on Rin.
No, he was too much in love to give up on any chance he’d been given, no matter how feeble
it was.
It always took Haruka ages to make a decision, especially one that would change his life in
one way or other. But once it happened, it was scarcely revocable. And now, he was finally
willing to believe everything he saw there in the red eyes long ago, although it was never put
into words.
He decided to trust this 'something' hidden between letters of Rin’s e-mails. Or in the smiles
sent his way back in Melbourne. In the looks that burned holes into his face, high above the
ground in a fancy restaurant. In the gentlest embrace of the strong arms; hopes and promises
given and taken within silence of the mirrored elevator. In the lips and hungry fingertips. In
that shaky sound in Rin’s sighs.
Yes. He was going to fight for Rin.
It took her a few moments before she was able to speak, but once she did, Haruka knew she
exactly understood where the two of them stood at the moment. She raised her chin higher
and smiled, trying to put up a confidence that clearly wasn’t there.
"Very well."
She walked out of the room and took a few steps towards the front door before she turned on
her heel. Opening her mouth in order to say something, she was just as surprised as Haruka
when another voice interrupted their personal tragicomedy.
"Kawasaki-san, are you leaving already?" His mother walked out of Haruka’s room, wearing
amicable smile on her face. Anna nodded tentatively and stayed silent. When her glistening
blue eyes rested on him again he knew that it was not the end. Not by a long shot.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Misaki," she said with voice completely calm, never once
leaving Haruka’s eyes. "And you too, Haruka-san, for the amazing meal I was allowed to
experience while waiting for you."
She bowed slightly, and Haruka would swear her eyes sparkled with a flame as she did it.
She ate my food?

Both women were lucky Nagisa’s blond head materialized from the common area and stood
by his side. He wasn’t sure what exactly his reaction would be, if he was left alone with the
two of them.
"Oh yeah," his mother exclaimed excitedly. "Kawasaki-san was truly amazed by your
cooking talent, Haruka. She suggested we should get together for a dinner before she and her
friends return to Australia, and you could show them what you can do. What do you think
about it, son?"
Son?
Suddenly I am a son.
Only the soft 'Haru' coming from Nagisa’s side stopped him before he lashed out.
I’ll show you what I can do, no problem.
"Actually, I think we shouldn’t be that humble in our plans,” Anna said slowly, and Haruka
had a strong feeling something interesting was going to come. “I’m sure Haruka’s abilities
are never appreciated enough in this small kitchen. So… uhm, what would you say about
doing it at my dad’s house? His equipment is definitely far more suitable for comfortable
cooking than this one, and I’ll make sure Haruka-kun has there everything he needs. All you
have to do is come and bring his talent."
His nails dug painful red half-moons into the skin of his palms as he watched his mother turn
a delighted face towards Anna.
Why was he not surprised the two of them got along so well?
"Oh! What a brilliant idea! I’d love to meet your father."
"Unfortunately, he stayed at our summer house. Never mind," Anna continued, ignoring
Haruka’s mother disappointment. "What would you say about tomorrow evening? Say, at six
o’clock? There’s no better way to finish an awesome holiday than a great good-bye party,
isn’t that so?"
They were staring at each other and while he knew she was daring him, testing him, trying
out his courage, he had exactly no interest in jumping into the trap she dug right in front of
his eyes. And as they stood face to face, Haruka realized that both of them were mutely
yelling the very same thing.
He’s mine!
But it was him who Rin needed at the moment, not her. The thought filled him with faith he
didn’t hope to find after the last few days. The moment before he spoke something strange
crossed under her black eyelashes.
"Unfortunately, I have some other program tomorrow evening," Haruka said dryly, seeing the
realization hit her eyes.
Yes.
I’m going to spend it with your ex-boyfriend.
A silence.
In his arms.
"Such a shame." Anna gritted her teeth.
And I’m going to come back soaked up in his scent.
Her stare was ablaze again, two blue fires trying to turn him into dust. When Haruka’s
mother’s voice cut the silence, none of them moved a brow.
"Can’t you postpone it for later? Your friends are leaving soon, after all."
"No, I don’t think so."
Or maybe I won’t come home at all.
"Don’t worry, Misaki. I understand," Anna muttered under her breath.
Finally she turned to leave, and it felt as if the air in the room was suddenly considerably
lighter.
When his pouting mother vanished behind the door of the cave his own room had become in
the meantime, Nagisa let out a relieved chuckle and scratched the back of his head
sheepishly.
"Half the time I was expecting you to say 'I only cook free' or something of that kind."
Haruka rolled his eyes and downed a glass of the freezing water poured from the faucet. The
clock on the wall showed it was almost midnight when he pulled on a windbreaker. It was
only him and Nagisa leaning against the wall of the genkan when Haruka was trying to force
his stubborn clumsy fingers to tie his shoes.
"Where are you going?"
Haruka looked up from the ground to the blond’s expectant face.
"To see Rin."
Nagisa’s eyebrow shot up. "Now? Didn’t you say you’ve got training at seven in the
morning?"
Damn.
Haruka’s hands stopped in their motion and sighed, rubbing his blood-shot eyes; the stinging
behind them reached an unknown intensity. It wasn’t as if the prospect of Hirai’s yells and
hateful stares would stop him from going, hell no. He’d go to Rin tonight even if he was
supposed to drown in a pool tomorrow.
But it reminded him of the exhaustion that made it almost impossible to tie his shoes
properly. He knew that if he boarded the subway now, the only result would be falling asleep
immediately and most likely missing the station anyway.
No matter how viciously his heart beat from the idea of feeling those warm hands again.
Rin would certainly understand if he came an hour later. He’d just sleep for a while and head
off.
When he lowered himself fully dressed on the still empty Makoto’s bed, placing the phone
with a set alarm beside him, Haruka hoped beyond measure that one insignificant hour
wouldn’t make any difference in Rin’s feelings.
One never knew when it came to that man.
***
Water felt different that morning. Repulsing an attempt to unite; leaning away from his body
everywhere they touched. It kept refusing to help him at all, even when he begged for its
affection. Every single cell of his skin screamed of how disgusted the cool liquid was by his
mere presence.
It was punishing him for something.
And while he had experienced the state of mutual misunderstanding before—like yesterday
while sharing the water with Rin—this was brand new. This was scary and horrifying at the
same time, making him want to crawl out of his skin.
Why doesn’t it want me?
The question was rather rhetorical, to be honest. Haruka knew all too well what he was being
punished for as he raised himself from the pool, and drops fell happily off his body, returning
to water’s wholeness as if they waited for this moment all that time.
Even for him it was almost impossible to withstand his own existence since the morning;
what was he expecting from sensitive water’s senses then?
He shook his head for what had to be thousandth time that day, wishing it was possible to
kick his own ass.
But try as he might, he wasn’t able to understand how he could’ve slept through the alarm,
Nagisa’s snoring, Makoto’s late night arrival, and the loud way his best friend always moved
around the room while preparing for bed. It had always woken him up before, so why the hell
not yesterday?
Haruka’s eyes shot up as the sound of a whistle echoed around the natatorium, only to be met
with Hirai’s gaze.
"Okay, tadpoles, get your asses over here. Now," the small man yelled into the clamor of the
room, and Haruka noticed that swimmers belonging to Hirai’s own small elite group—he
could hardly believe the stupid nickname The Princesses was their own idea—had already
gathered around him. The rest were slowly leaving the pool or bleachers, reluctantly moving
towards them. "Make a circle, dumbasses, everybody wants to see my pretty face."
Hirai sat on the bench, taking notes into his hands and turning pages while looking over them
with a disgusted expression. Haruka threw a towel over his head and hoped his disdain for
the man wasn’t terribly apparent. With a sigh he set half of his mind to listening, while the
rest ran elsewhere.
I don’t care what he’ll think.
The first thing I’ll do when I see his face is kiss him.
"Now, something all of you’ve been waiting for the last few months. Qatar. Doha. FINA
World Swimming Championship in a month from today. I hope I don’t have to make any
special announcement about the fact that I’m one of the members of the Japanese national
committee. So if you have any hopes to get onto the plane that takes you over the rainbow,
you should start to enthrall me like this very moment. None of you will probably be too
surprised if I say that so far it looks like the one qualifying place we have in our hands will
go to Hagino."
Haruka focused enough to notice how half of the eyes turned to the tall man on his left, while
the rest bitterly pursed their lips or rolled eyes. But the chewing man didn’t seem to be
affected by the attention in one way or another; it was what awareness of your own abilities
did to the confidence.
Only the skinny dude on his side patted his shoulder encouragingly—Haruka tried to
remember his name, but nothing emerged apart of the fact he was Hagino’s best friend.
No, kissing won’t be enough.
There will have to be so much more than that to fix everything.
The thoughts sent a thrilling sensation down his body, tingling and beautifully warming at the
same time, and it had to be a pinch of pain that woke him up from his reverie as he
unconsciously bit the broken lip.
I’ll make him forget her for good.
"But don’t let your little hearts stiffen in fear. The committee will make its choice depending
on your results in upcoming tests—no need to worry about the fact you didn’t even make it
into nationals. Which means anyone of you can go there if you’re able to beat others’ times."
The little group around Hagino chuckled, probably over the absurdity of the idea that anyone
able to beat the man in the water had been born already.
Hirai threw his notes onto the bench and looked right at Haruka. But if he was going to say
anything or not was unimportant as the man sighed and stood up with a small shake of his
head, releasing Haruka’s eyes.
"Dismissed. …oh yeah, and I want to see you all here tomorrow at noon. I’m not going to
wake up at six again because of your stupid heads. Asuke, don’t you dare eat before getting
into the pool like the last time…"
Haruka turned his hearing off, already walking towards the locker room, cheeks heating up.
I’ll make him feel so good.
The shower Haruka took after the training was the fastest he’d ever had, and then he walked
through the school area in a crazy haste. Just the same way as he had hurried trying to catch
the commute that morning—and despite the mad run still arrived twenty minutes later, when
everybody was already in the water.
Placing one foot in front of another without looking, Haruka took the route through the
school’s corridors leading into Rachel’s office. He just had to see his English teacher for a
moment, and he’d be free. His mind kept spurting forward in a dazzling rush.
I have to call him.
The simple text that he had sent the first thing in the morning after opening his eyes and
swallowing an overwhelmingly intense guilt stated nothing more than 'Meet you after
training.'
Why the hell is he not answering?
Tomorrow was Friday, the last presumed day of Rin’s presence in Tokyo, and he hated the
idea of spending a minute without him. With each passed hour there was only less time to
change the man’s mind about flying away.
But Haruka decided to keep faith in himself and Rin. He had to believe the power of his own
lips, which seemed to be Rin’s weakness.
He’ll stay.
I know it.
The door to his teacher’s office was left ajar, a soft music was coming through the radio
inside as he paced in front of it. Haruka fished out his phone and checked for an answer for
what was like thousandth time.
Nothing.
Come on, Rin, what’s taking you so long?
With a little shake of his head, Haruka dialed his number and waited. But instead of a
familiar ringing on the other side signalizing the call was about to happen, there was a soft
beep and a robotic voice sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.
'The number you have dialed is temporarily not available.'
How—not available? Where the hell was he? What was he doing?
Haruka tried once again with the very same result. And then again. While it didn’t have to
mean anything, it still felt as if someone punched him in the stomach.
With suddenly cold fingers he knocked on the door and pushed against it. Rachel sat at the
table, her back turned towards him. And Haruka knew the shade of her red hair was far from
being the same as Rin’s, but it gave his heart a kick anyway.
I’m a lost cause.
He knocked once again and her face turned to him in an instant.
"Oh, Haru, you’re early. Come on in!" Rachel exclaimed and motioned for him to take a seat
at the old worn-out couch. "How are you doing? I haven’t seen you for a while, have I?"
"I’m fine."
Why are you not answering my text, Rin?
And maybe she wanted to meaninglessly chatter for a while, because her violet eyes shone
with excitement as he took a seat opposite of her, but she would have to find someone else
for that purpose. Haruka was hardly able to keep the track of his thoughts on a leash; as
always, they were trying their best to run out of his hands right into the darkness.
Because he’d learned during few last days that Rin was far harder to handle than he’d ever
thought. The man was like wind and fire combined, always on the run, always an inch out of
Haruka’s reach.
I hope nothing happened to you.
"So, uhm," she said after a while of a silence, and the electric smile fell a bit. "I’m sure we’re
both pretty busy, so... uhm, I’ll try to make it short. The Faculty of Letters intends to prepare
a special feature for this year’s school festival. You see, their contribution is supposed to
revolve around poetry—Japanese as well, but mainly world classics. You know—Walt
Whitman, Pablo Neruda, Henry Miller, and so on, you have the idea."
Haruka blinked in utter confusion, trying to keep his mind focused on the fast pace of her
speech. Not that he had problems understanding Rachel’s American English—she’d fostered
up his skills after all—but although she was speaking as if it was common knowledge, he’d
never once in his life heard the names she just used.
"So the idea was," she said with a coy smile. "Mine to be honest—to prepare brochures with
the selection of the most famous of poems in both Japanese and English versions, so
everybody could try to read in original and feel the beauty of the language—but also
understand everything, even the parts too difficult."
Huh?
"So here comes the point: I’d like you to translate them into your own language, and we’ll
take care of the rest. Easy-peasy."
Haruka’s eyes rested on the stained yellow carpet under his feet. If this wasn’t the most
absurd thing that happened this unbelievable week, then he didn’t know what else was.
Poems?
"Why me?" he pushed out after a while, terribly confused. "Can’t you do it yourself?"
Rachel smiled and shrugged. "Of course I could try. But do you really think my Japanese is
that good? Even the best translators work into their own language, not the other way around."
"I don’t know."
"Haru, there’s no one else in the whole class—what, in a whole school, that has such a natural
talent for languages as you do. You never thought of becoming my assistant here at the
faculty? It would be great for you. I mean—even in a terms of money, you know what I
mean." She pursed her lips when no answer came her way.
Nothing had changed. The woman was always going to push Haruka into something he had
no intention of participating in.
"I’m asking you as a friend, Haru. I really need a hand with this."
Haruka swallowed, a bitter taste of anguish resting on his tongue. Maybe under different
circumstances he would’ve felt bad for the way he intended to turn down the favor, but now...
now it was the least important thing of all. And while the thought shortly crossed his mind
that if Rin left tomorrow after all he was going to need something to keep his head occupied,
Haruka didn’t want to believe it.
No, Rin’s going to stay.
It’s just his battery that died.
Yeah, that must be it.
"I’m sorry. But I don’t think I’ll have time for that. You have—you have to find someone
else."
Or it is not like that at all.
They stared at each other for a while, Haruka trying to keep basic bodily functions from
seizing up, and Rachel most likely searching for the reason why the student that had never
shown a single trace of rudeness suddenly refused her like that.
"Oh. Okay then..." she said in a low voice, eyes inquiring. "Well, if you change your mind..."
Mechanically he stood up, fear swirling in his chest, and Rachel’s violet eyes were concerned
as he was trying poorly to coordinate movements of his limbs. At last, his hand curled around
the door’s handle.
"Are you okay, Haru?"
He turned his face towards the wood of a door when her voice filled with unease reached his
pulsing chest, and forced his lungs to inhale.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely and pulled the door open.
I’m fine.
...
He’s fine.
It’s not as if he doesn’t want to talk to me, is it?
As if he cut me off again.
I’m fine.
But as the fresh air of the corridor blew onto his face, Haruka knew, just like Rachel did, that
he was everything but.
It was exactly two hours and thirty laps of rabid swimming later that Haruka’s patience ran
out. His legs had been killing him with furious cramps for a good while, but he couldn’t stop.
Not when there were thoughts haunting him, pushing him to yet another lap, clouding his
mind.
The phone rested next to the starter block, fully charged with volume set to maximum. And
no, it wasn’t at all sad and needy to check the display every few laps. Not at all.
Leaving Rachel’s office, Haruka knew he wouldn’t be able to go home—not until he’d gotten
the response he was restlessly waiting for. Returning to the pool was the only solution—and
the only way to sooth the swirling panic.
He tried to think the other way, he really did—to not give up on the warm feeling that Rin’s
claim of needing him lit up in his insides. But a creeping fear clutched at his fingers as they
tried to push forward through stubbornly un-cooperating water body, until it made him hold
onto the edge of the pool and reach for the source of all today’s suffering for the last time.
With a heart threatening to choke him, Haruka dialed Makoto’s number.
"Are you with Jane?" was the first thing Haruka asked, not bothering with unnecessary
prologue.
"Uh... yeah? ...what’s happening?" Makoto’s voice was immediately on alert, recognizing
anguish in his friend’s tone even where Haruka’d swear it was perfectly even.
"Ask her if she knows where Rin is."
"O-okay. Wait a second."
A soft murmur on the other side made him want to crawl out of his skin. After a while longer
than a whole ice age, Makoto was back.
"She says he’s at home with Anna. Why?"
Haruka gritted his teeth and his free hand rubbed against his eye-balls, pushing them
painfully against the panicking brain. The sky was vividly blue and almost cloudless when
he, at last, looked out through the natatorium’s glass wall. It was laughing at the storm
swirling inside of him.
God, no.
...
Don’t tell me it’s too late.
Because if it was really the case; if the night spent sleeping instead of running to Rin was the
cause of screwing up everything, Haruka wasn’t sure how was he going to live with himself.
But as those few white puffy clouds crossed the blueness, he was starting to understand that
last night Rin was standing at a crossroads.
Maybe suffering all alone, lost without Haruka’s presence that would show him the way;
trying to decide which way to go.
Please, no.
And if he needed Haruka then, he might not today. The decision could’ve been made in the
darkness of the night when Haruka was chasing his dreams.
"Can you... can you give her the phone?"
A soft rustling sound filled his ear as it was handed over, and then there was a
soft 'hey' spoken in Jane’s gentle voice.
"I’m sorry, Jane."
"It’s nothing, Haru. What do you need?"
"I..." He hesitated before swallowing hard. "He’s not picking up the phone."
And just like before at the airport, Jane understood without unnecessary words. Maybe he
was just getting so bad at hiding his emotions, but more likely she was just clever—and much
more similar to Makoto than was humanly possible. A beat of silence preceded her soft
words, and Haruka would swear there was sadness somewhere in her voice when she spoke.
But it was hard to tell when everything around him blended into a strangely purple haze.
"I talked to him twenty minutes ago."
So... yeah.
He redirected my calls.
Just mine.
…no.
"Haru. Do you need us to come over?"
I…
Haruka shook his head, too busy fighting tears to be bothered with words.
"We’ll come," Jane stated resolutely. "Where are you?"
"No," he pushed out at last. "I’m… I’m at school."
Rin.
Why did everything have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t it be simple, just as Haruka’s
feeling for that stupid idiot were? Why did the littlest of mistakes have to mean the difference
between everything and nothing?
The happenings of previous days ran madly through his head, leaving him breathless and
dizzy with strangely intense pain. One after another, they danced behind his firmly shut
eyelids: Rin’s burning eyes at that dinner; their first kiss; the touch of a strong hand on his
cheek; finger gently wiping off his own tears; Anna’s visit.
Anna’s visit?
Haruka breathed in. "Can you, can you tell your friend something?"
"Anna?"
Haruka nodded, and for some reason knew that Jane understood as if she stood right there.
"Tell her I’m up to it. If it’s still stands, I’ll be there at six."
***
One is free to believe in fairytales.
It is, after all, what the world we live in wants us to do. To believe that there is that 'one'
meant for me and no one else, the 'one' that knows how to love me without needing to say
anything. A prince, a princess—someone fitting within the concept of an ideal.
Cheesy movies, romantic novels, endless soap-operas.
Haruka never watched those stories. Never read them on purpose. Never searched for them.
But it didn’t mean he wasn’t exposed to them, at least as a small child being in the care of an
older woman. It also didn’t mean they didn’t sow the littlest of grains into his mind.
After all, no one would judge him for knowing about their existence. No one would, unless
they came to know that even he, a grown-up man, in the darkness of his room wanted
desperately to find refuge in them.
Why not?
Sometimes daydreaming was all you had when there was no one willing to love you for real.
They were always someone else’s though.
Not once—not even when Rin’s smile had been thousand miles away and a chest pain
couldn’t be dulled by a wall and a pillow—had Haruka hoped he would find himself in one of
them for real. That he would chase the man of his dreams like a fool, unable to believe that
he was leaving for good; that they were never going to speak to each other again. That this
theatre play would not have any rerun.
That it was the end.
But as he stared out of a window of a black limo, which he, Nagisa, and his mother had found
sitting in front of his house, Haruka realized with a heavy sigh, he just seemed to get what he
had secretly wished for.
And he also knew it was now or never—either he was going to win Rin’s heart now, or he’d
never see the man again. And he wasn’t ready to let go.
It just hurt too much.

The limo parked on a high hill; underneath lay a splendid garden, cut in two by the curved
gravel road they’d just come on. On both sides stood cedars, and a neatly mowed turf ran
from their lines to the explosions of flowers of each colour and size. Despite being drowned
in the dark, the garden seemed to open into a golf course on the left, and a small pond with
shimmering water lay on the right side.
Everything was lit up by perfectly placed lights, creating a rather magical atmosphere.
The main building was massive, to start with, and as Haruka entered it through the door with
elegant glass inserts, he had to fight the need to open his mouth in awe. Everything here was
amazing, and beautiful, and expansive.
Haruka chuckled darkly as he was led through the lit-up house, realizing that he himself
wouldn’t have been able to choose a better place for a drop-scene.
The sizable lounge was filled to the brim with people he’d never seen before when their little
group stopped in front of the entrance. Each side was engorged by tall vases full of lilies;
their intense smell filled Haruka’s nostrils. There was an air of celebration floating around the
room, and he wondered of what sort.
Where are you?
Trying to ignore his mother’s presence, Haruka thanked gods for the hundredth time that
night to have Nagisa by his side. The blond was entertaining her while his eager eyes scanned
the chattering crowd.
Show yourself to me.
And there he was, slightly to Haruka’s right, standing in a small circle with face serious,
blazing red hair burning Haruka’s retinas, a tall glass in his hand. He kept sipping from it, not
even trying to pretend he was taking part in the conversation.
Haruka took a few steps into the room, his chest a symphony of fluttering birds beating
wildly against the ribcage, and let his eyes feast on the sight.
He always knew Rin looked good in black, but a plain button-down shirt hugged his trimmed
body perfectly, giving him a look of a mature, sophisticated man. He was beautiful, attractive,
sexy; everything Haruka was not, but it didn’t stop him from wanting and needing and
yearning.
And Haruka would’ve probably stood there the whole night long, had there not been a dark
chuckle coming from his left. His head snapped to the side, only to be met with Yamazaki’s
smirk. He braced himself for a stupid comment, but, unexpected as it was, the man just took a
step closer and stood by his side. With the very same glass as Rin held in his hand Yamazaki
motioned towards the crowd.
He spoke in a voice gloomy and silent, words addressed to Haruka and no one else.
"The vultures are gathering."

Haruka followed his gaze, only then noticing Anna standing by Rin’s side. And like a charm,
as if she sensed their stare, blue eyes turned to them and her smile faded down. He watched
in utter disgust how her hand touched Rin’s back and hissed inwardly when Rin’s eyes
searched clumsily around the room, until they rested on Haruka’s face.
They were strikingly beautiful.
And they were also a little hazy and unfocused, glistening in the light of the hundred lamps
hung around the room’s walls.
Haruka sighed, unable to believe that Rin would get himself wasted in this kind of company,
not to mention so early into the evening. The pair slowly made their way towards Haruka,
meandering around the chatting groups. Anna kept throwing smiles that were everything but
believable in every direction.
"I thought he was your best friend," Haruka muttered towards strangely quiet Yamazaki.
A short silence preceded his words, but when they came, something strange and horrifyingly
wrong clicked into place inside Haruka’s chest.
"I’m not sure I know this person anymore."
Nagisa’s cheerful blabbering filled the holes within their strange conversation,
complementing murmur of the lounge, and just before Anna’s lean frame got too close for
Haruka’s heart to withstand it, Yamazaki’s serious face turned to him.
"I don’t have a good feeling about this, dolphin. I think you should get out now."
Haruka huffed, just before the pair reached their little group, never leaving red eyes. "I think
you should shut up."
Because Rin was finally there, standing right in front of him, shining through Haruka’s night
like a firefly caught in cupped hands. Haruka felt blood filling his cheeks under the stare and
cursed his stupid heart that was refusing to slow down the wild pace.
"Haruka-kun, Misaki, how nice to meet you again," Anna said, not smiling a tiny bit. Nagisa
behind Haruka’s back puffed, apparently offended by being completely excluded as if he
wasn’t there at all.
He nodded, letting his eyes run back to Rin’s side. Was it just him, or was the man swaying
slightly?
God, Rin, what are you doing?
And from the proximity Haruka noticed something else: dark shadows under Rin’s eyes were
making their redness stand out even more.
"Everything is set up in the kitchen, Haruka-kun," Anna interrupted their wordless exchange,
her voice thick. "Ayako here shall take you there and explain everything. Please don’t hesitate
to ask for anything you need."
A small, old woman in a plain grey dress materialized from the thin air and bowed deeply in
front of Haruka. At least her wrinkled smile was genuine.
"And Misaki, come with me, please. The Parisian friend of mine I told you about is here, and
he’s eager to meet you. You can practice your French as much as you like."
The excited exclamations of his mother dissipated into the background as the two women left
and mingled within the crowd. Haruka watched Rin’s stare move from him to his left side,
red eyes throwing daggers at Yamazaki’s still present figure.
The big man snickered bitterly, downed the content of his glass, and before leaving turned to
look right at Haruka.
"Be careful."
Blinking in confusion, Haruka watched Rin’s gaze darken a few shades, and thanked god that
the annoying man finally disappeared. Looking around the corridor, Haruka realized they
were mostly alone. Of course, there were people coming in and out of the room, but no one
paid them any attention. He wondered what happened to Anna for her to leave Rin alone with
him just like that. Coming here Haruka anticipated her being stuck to his side like glue. Even
Anna’s old servant was out of sight. And where the hell had Nagisa disappeared to?
"Why did you come here?"
Haruka blinked once again, letting Rin’s words seep into his brain. The question had more
than one answer, and who knew which one Rin wanted to hear.
"To cook."
To make you mine.
"Yeah," Rin grunted, unbelievingly.
Haruka took a step closer. And when he dared to reach out, dying to touch Rin’s wrist,
craving the contact, there was nothing but the air where just a second ago the warm skin was.
He let his hand fall down, sighing shakily.
"I have to talk to you."
Rin opened his mouth, but closed it again as Nagisa’s angry voice echoed around the parallel
walls. The blond emerged from around the corner, right behind Haruka’s back. His hands
squeezed his shoulder enthusiastically—mouth readying for a brand new outburst—when his
eyes went wide with surprise.
"Oi, Haru, I didn’t know... I’m sorry."
But Rin was already turning away from Haruka, his light fading away, and there was
absolutely nothing that he could do to keep the darkness off.
"You should go home."

It was the only thing Rin said before he walked away, eyes resting on Haruka longer than he
probably intended, but at last—he was gone. And there was nothing but a creeping fear that
filled his body—if previously strong, now completely overwhelming—that all was lost.
And Haruka’s lips were like always sewn together, unable to find proper words. To stop the
man, make him listen to the simple explanation. To make him forgive him.
I wanted to run to you, I did.
"Haru, I don’t know if you’ve noticed," Nagisa jabbered, anger bubbling under the surface.
"But there’s like fifty people in there. Nothing like that was said when she was suggesting a
dinner before."
"I know."
"So... how, for god’s sake, are you going to handle it? Correct me if I’m wrong, but as far as I
know you’ve never cooked for so many people? What kind of trap is she setting up here?"
Haruka sighed and kept staring into the room full of people, hoping desperately to catch a
glimpse of red hair. That was the last thing on his mind, honestly. He didn’t come here to
make a fool of himself in front of a crowd, but if that was what she wanted, then so be it.
Nevertheless, it didn’t matter all that much how many eaters were there to serve. The process
was the same, only with more ingredients.
"Not a problem."
Haruka exhaled and nodded to the old woman that once again found her way into the
corridor. She was standing ten or so meters away, smiling nicely, and Haruka had to wonder
if she was trained to disappear and reappear on demand.
The kitchen was enormous, vast in size and exclusive in equipment. But it was to be expected
—in a mansion like that. What wasn’t though was a group of men and women, standing
alertly in a row. They were waiting for something, and when Haruka entered following the
old woman, he suddenly knew what for.
They straightened, at first looking expectantly his way. It wasn’t hard to notice the
disappointment—or amusement in some cases—in their eyes once they realized he was
nobody—a young someone of uninteresting appearance to add.
And I am supposed to give them orders.
Perfect.
The old woman introduced him as their chef for tonight, and she wasn’t humble with
compliments. Somewhere between 'fantastically talented' and 'sensitive hands' Haruka turned
his attention away, eyes searching for a door leading into the lounge.
The room where Rin was.
My Rin.
It wasn’t that bad, after all. All of them obeyed without a single word, and although barely
keeping his ribcage together since his heart was doing somersaults anytime the door opened,
with a jolt of excitement Haruka realized it was actually working. However unexpected it
was.
Maybe this thing wasn’t going to be such a disaster after all.
While an hour later the work was running smoothly, it was the fact that Rin hadn’t showed up
once that terrified Haruka. Because maybe it was stupid to count on it, but he somehow
hoped that liquor would loosen up Rin’s self-control. That he would come to him, seeking
what he needed just as much as Haruka did.
Another fifteen minutes and still nothing. With a sigh, he turned away from the fridge and
pushed a slick, fishy body into the hands of the closest standing assistant.
"Can you handle it for a moment?" Man raised his eyebrows, obviously reluctant to take over
the whole kitchen by himself. "For a minute. Please."
Long tables had appeared on the sides of the room, or maybe he only hadn’t noticed them
before. People were feasting on the tons of meals flooding from the kitchen, and as Haruka
pushed through the crowd many were patting his shoulder. With a confused stare he kept
nodding back, wondering how they knew he was responsible for it.
Only when a big hand reached out and pulled at his clothes, Haruka realized he was still
wearing an apron over his white shirt. With sleeves rolled up to his elbows, it wasn’t difficult
to figure out who he was, and what he was doing.
"Need help?" Yamazaki asked in deep baritone and a small, shy smile appeared on his face.
Haruka looked around the room for the fiftieth time, still unable to locate the familiar red
stain.
"He’s not here," the man said in a considerably murkier voice after a short silence, looking
down to the platter of Ika Itozukuri in his hands. "They went to meet Anna’s old man.
Seemed to show up unexpectedly, you should’ve seen her face when she was told he was
here." Yamazaki laughed darkly and added, when Haruka wasn’t reacting at all. "Should be
somewhere close though, I heard your mom’s laughter when I went to take a piss."
At that he turned on his heel, leaving Haruka standing alone in the middle of the room.
Distantly he noticed Makoto and Jane waving and making their way towards him, but he
couldn’t lose another precious minute.
The corridors were long and empty, making him feel as if he was walking carpets of an eerie
hotel rather than a regular house where people lived. One could’ve gotten lost in the
numerous rooms, behind the marble statues, or heavy draperies hanging over the tall
windows.
And just like Yamazaki said, the sound of his own mother’s voice reached his ears, leading
him safely to the door that was left ajar. With blood crazily circuiting his body Haruka
listened, knowing all too well he couldn’t walk right in, if for nothing else than because he
was definitely not wanted in the conversation.
He admitted he was consciously eavesdropping, but it didn’t matter how disgustingly

unethical it was, as long as he could find out at least something more about Rin’s secret.
Not that he expected them to say anything when his own mother was with them—still, it was
worth a try.
With shaky fingers, Haruka pushed gently against the door, opening the sight to the small
parlor. Adorned with a sizable dark brown couch, two armchairs, and a vintage coffee table, it
looked cozy and warm. A fire-place with molded bricks threw yellow light on the white
carpet, walls of unidentified dark colour, and Rin’s pale face. He was sitting next to Anna on
the couch, gaze stuck on the ground, while the rest of the little group was chatting.
Rin .
Haruka swallowed, trying to force himself to listen when Rin’s surname exploded in the
room.
What the hell are you doing in a place like this?
"...happy to come back earlier and see my dear daughter one more time. No matter how much
time we spend together, it’s never enough," the old man said—apparently Anna’s father as
being the only man in the room apart from Rin—and Haruka couldn’t but notice that his cold
voice hardly matched the nice words. Anna’s lips were smiling, but even from the distance
her body language betrayed her.
She was not comfortable with the situation, and Haruka wondered why.
"Isn’t that so, Annabelle?"
"Yes, dad."
"And you, young man, we’ve had even less time to get to know each other. Which is deeply
regrettable, since I’ve never seen my little girl be so invested in someone or something
before." Anna’s weak 'dad' got lost within the man’s speech. "You must be a really
exceptional person to hold my daughter’s interest for more than two weeks."
The old man laughed, obviously the only one amused in the whole room. Anna’s body
shrunk, falling deeper into the cushions of the couch.
"Can we talk about something else, dad? Didn’t the storm catch you on the way back?"
"Why would we, Annabelle?" The man completely ignored her question. "I strongly believe
it is not a secret to the boy that you hold him dear. It’s a true miracle that you’ve finally found
something worth your heart. I paid for more schools than I can possibly count on the fingers
of both my hands. What is it you are studying there in Sydney? Care to remind me?"
A long while of silence stretched over the room, only the wood cracking in the fireplace
disrupted its spookiness.
"Creative writing," Anna muttered at length and looked to the side.
"Oh, certainly. Excuse me that I’d forgotten. It’s hard to keep track of all those interests. So,"
he said, turning his attention away from Anna, right onto Rin’s face. It might have been the
light, but it looked like it was even paler than before. “Maybe the time has come to stop
chasing the ghost and finally settle down.”
Se-settle down?
Kawasaki sipped from the glass in his hand, studying Rin’s expression thoroughly.
"Tell me more about yourself, young man. I’ve heard you intend to follow in my brother’s
footsteps."
It took Haruka a moment before the memory of Nagisa’s words re-emerged: something about
Anna’s uncle being a big fish in Sydney’s police.
"I admit I have no idea what it looks like at New South Wales police, but my brother is a
respectable man. Therefore I have no doubts he would do his first and last to keep his
department in good shape. Where have you studied, Matsuoka-san?" Old Kawasaki fired out
an unexpected question, taking Rin aback.
"Sy-Sydney university."
"And before?"
"Samezuka academy."
Kawasaki let himself down into the armchair opposite of Haruka’s surprisingly mute mother.
No doubt she felt as uncomfortable as the rest of them for being privy to the examination.
"Is that a school? I’ve never heard of it."
"Yes, sir. It’s a swimming powerhouse."
"Oh swimming, yes. Of course, I remember now my daughter mentioned once something
about you being a retired swimmer." Kawasaki nodded. "She also said you were not any
good, so I guess it is not a shame after all."
Haruka’s mouth fell open, and he had to lean against the wall in order to keep his body in a
vertical position.
"Dad. Please," Anna pleaded, face hiding behind her palms. "I didn’t say anything like that."
Was that even possible? A silence stretched between the four again, and Haruka’s hands
curled into fists.
Why the hell are you not protesting, Rin?
"I guess that would be accurate, sir," Rin said in low voice and looked to the fire.
Wh-what?
The mad all-consuming fire lit up in Haruka’s insides, and had there not been a wall keeping
him stable, the gravitation would’ve certainly pulled him right into the parlor.
"Oh well, it is a good thing that you decided for a change of career then. It certainly doesn’t
suit a man to do something he’s mediocre at for a living."
And just like that Haruka lost it. The words of the old man blurred his vision, bringing back
memories of Anna’s impossible reasoning from yesterday.
Mediocre?
Second-rate?
Someone really said that about my Rin?
Not knowing where his legs adjoined his body, Haruka moved, and when a thickest haze
dissipated all of a sudden he found himself within the parlor. A strangely warm feeling leaned
against his cheeks—maybe a soft touch of a fireplace, but more likely Rin’s blazing light.
Three pairs of surprised eyes turned to him, only the red ones were lost somewhere in the
darkness.
Look at me, Rin.
"What do you need, young man?" Kawasaki asked, voice annoyed.
"He’s not mediocre," Haruka barked through gritted teeth, not moving his gaze away from
Rin’s face. And finally his eyes snapped in his direction and widened in surprise.
The despair in them was breaking Haruka’s heart.
You are not, Rin.
"He’s the best swimmer I’ve ever met."
A tentative flicker of hope passed momentarily around the curves of Rin’s lips and eyes, only
to be lost again soon after.
"Oh, really?" the old man asked after a moment of awkward silence. "And who are you, if I
may ask."
A sound of clearing throat came from Haruka’s mother’s side, and although being silent it felt
as if someone fired a bullet within the room.
"It’s my son, Kawasaki-san. I’m terribly sorry for this inconvenience," she said, turning
Haruka’s way and sending him an ugly look.
"Did he come with you, Misaki?"
"Uhm… he’s running the kitchen tonight."
“Is it so?” Staring at Haruka, the old man’s face didn’t show any emotion. “And here I
thought you had ordered Mandarin Oriental for catering per usual, Annabelle. Didn’t you ask
Ayako to call them?”
Kawasaki sipped from his glass nonchalantly again, and Haruka almost laughed out loud
when his grey eyes flickered for a second to Anna’s side. While the man couldn’t possibly
understand—not as Haruka did—that the catering service was supposed to fill in after his
failure, he probably knew his daughter well enough to smell something fishy behind tonight’s
party.
"Well then you should probably return to the kitchen."
Rin was lost again within his own world when Haruka looked at him, needing to feel his
attention one more time. Only Anna’s eyes were still on him, although when her father
chuckled amusedly and his finger moved between the two, even her face turned away.
“The resemblance is indeed uncanny.”
Haruka left, without a reaction, not needing to hear any of this.
It was not even eight o’clock, and he’d already had his share of melodrama. There was only
so much one could do during one evening to make a complete fool of himself.
But as he was walking back to the kitchen—the place they so generously assigned to him—
he knew that if there was the slightest chance to bring Rin closer to him, it wasn’t worthless.
He would happily do it all over again.
It took precisely seventeen minutes and twenty-four seconds for it to happen; Haruka knew it
exactly, because standing in the middle of the kitchen while the rest of the crew walked
around him like in a slurred fast-forward movie, his eyes never left the big clock hanging on
the wall.
Red stain moved through his vision in a blur, and while strong fingers pulled on his wrist and
dragged him through the dark parts of the mansion, Haruka’s lungs weren’t cooperating at all.
And within the dull, milky light of a moon falling through the tall window he was wrapped
up in the calming warmth, finally safe. Protected, at last. He knew it was needy and weak to
bury his everything into that body, but he couldn’t care less.
He craved this for too long to deny himself anything.

His arms curled around the slim waist and squeezed. Not knowing if it was possible to choke
up on happiness, to die of getting everything he’d dreamed about, Haruka was willing to take
that risk. He was drowning in the smell of this flawless body, in the scent that made electric
impulses between the neuron cells of his brain go haywire, and he had no intention of pulling
through.
The arms around him tightened impossibly, pushing the rest of the air out of his chest, and the
jolt of excitement made his heart skip a beat when Rin’s lips found their way to his jaw.
Yes.
Haruka tipped his head to the side to grant them better access, but instead of sharp teeth on
his skin there was only hot breath of a heavy, shaky sigh. The most beautiful face in the
world hesitated for a moment, but at last it nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Funnily cold
tip of a nose followed the line of his hair up behind his ear and buried itself there, inhaling
deeply.
A small smile spilled where Haruka’s lips used to be when it made the hair on his body stand
on end.
Finally.
Choking on his own whimpers, he barely noticed the slim finger curling underneath his
collar. Pulling down an inch, it revealed more of his naked skin to the cold air of the unheated
room, but soon enough burning lips finally rested on that over-sensitive place. A soft moan
that could have been just as well his own made his knees shake.
And he would’ve given this man anything he wanted right then and there on the dark wooden
floor, in the house of the girl that ached for him just as much as Haruka did. He didn’t know
much about these things, but he was sure he would gladly withstand the pain that would
supposedly accompany it as its necessary part. Broken free from the nightmare, he was
willing to let Rin take the lead—giving up control in his arms didn’t appear a bit frightening.
He would’ve proudly worn red marks and wooden splinters in his skin come tomorrow
morning.
He would, without shame.
Because he was small and he was powerless in the face of this resonating light, captivating
him like a lamp did to a worthless fly.
Come fall with me, Rin.
But when his knees buckled, Rin’s strong arms caught his weight, not giving Haruka’s needs
a chance.
"Haru. I..."
He turned his face upwards, searching for the lips. But as they touched the soft skin, Rin’s
face pulled away slightly, whispering into his cheek.
"I came to say good-bye."
Haruka stilled and seconds of silence marked how long his heart wasn’t beating.
“You what?”
"This—this is the last time we will see each other." He wanted to pull away, to see into Rin’s
face, but the hands didn’t let him. Fingers entangled into his hair, making it impossible to
move while Rin whispered into his ear. "But I will never forget this, I promise. Ever."
"Rin." A raising panic crept into Haruka’s voice.
"No," Rin said as he was trying to break free again. "Don’t. Let’s just stay like this for a
while."
Please.
And he obeyed, just like he always did. It didn’t matter that the warmth his idiotic body was
reveling into was nothing more than a lie, disappearing for good once he’d let it go. Because
he had already become addicted to the feeling of being held, to the excitement of being
wanted by someone. By his Rin.
Please.
"Why?" Haruka pushed out hoarsely. "Why don’t you just tell me already. What it is with
you. So I can help."
Please.
Rin gave his head a small shake. "You’ve seen me swim. What more is there to say?"
Don’t leave me alone again.
Haruka swallowed thickly through the gathering tears.
"That’s nothing. It’s just a phase. It’ll get better."
"No, it won’t, Haru," Rin muttered into the goosebumps on his skin, arms finally releasing
him from a vice grip, only to be replaced by needy palms traveling up and down Haruka’s
back and neck, messing up his hair again and again. "I’m a lost cause. A nobody. I know I
have to live with it somehow. But you have no idea—no idea at all, Haru. You deserve so
much more than what I am. You—"
"Shut up."
Stop already.
"I just... she’s fine."
I don’t...
Don’t want to hear any of this.
"She’s not... she’ll never be... but it’s as close as it gets. The life there is all I can have. It’s
not what I’ve ever thought I’d be living... but it has to be enough."
"So what?" Haruka asked, voice breaking. "You’re doing me a favor?"
A cone of light cut the darkness as a car pulled over the gravel path in front of the house. It
danced around the room and stained the walls, pictures, and cupboards with its colorless
touch. Haruka’s eyes were wide as he stared over Rin’s quivering shoulder.
"Something like that."
The two of them still stood there unmoving when the light disappeared again—except for
Rin’s hands roaming over Haruka’s arms and shoulders everywhere they could possibly
reach, as if trying to memorize every bone, every muscle, every tendon. Leaving marks of
ownership that he knew with certainty he wouldn’t be able to wipe off for as long as he’d be
alive.
Don’t touch me when you’re not going to make me yours.
"What a pile of bullshit," Haruka said thickly, shaking his head. "I don’t have any word in
this? I don’t have any right to decide?"
Because with every touch.
"You don’t understand."
You’re ruining me for everyone else.
"No, I don’t."
Once upon a time Haruka thought he wished nothing else than to be left alone. He was sure
he wanted nothing more than to rest hidden within the walls of an old Iwatobi house. But
when Rin’s palm rested on his lower back and pulled closer to make him realize how much of
an impact Haruka’s presence had to his body, he knew those wishes had never been real.
Since the moment the two of them met, through the seemingly random moments connected
like rings on the chain of time, they were heading towards this very moment. Doomed to
break each other, and then never be able to forget.
"You’re gonna find yourself someone else. Someone much, much better. And he’ll give you
everything. Because you’re perfect, Nanase Haruka." Rin accentuated his name, as if tracing
his tongue along the shapes of the letters. "You are way too perfect for me. I don’t deserve
you. Just... please let it be someone I don’t know. I wouldn’t... I’d go crazy knowing it’s you
and Sousuke. I’d imagine it every single time I close my eyes."
You.
You said you needed me.

Haruka pushed against his body, a desperate need to be free from this hell overcoming
everything else. But just like before, Rin wouldn’t let him go. Arms curled tightly around his
shoulders, long fingers dug into the meat to hold him in place.
You’ve managed to fool me again.
"Just a little longer, please," Rin whispered shakily.
"N-no," Haruka spat, fighting him just like that one time in the elevator. "Let go."
To finally break me.
"One more minute," Rin pleaded frantically through Haruka’s desperate pants and cries.
You won.
All of a sudden he was free; Rin’s fists fell to his sides like the hands of the old antique clock
hanging on the wall behind him. And there was only so much his body could take in through
his senses. Like the laughter of the people crossing under the window, all of them oblivious
to his corrupted lungs. A greasy stain on the glass pane, probably from a forehead leaned
against it.
The smell of Rin’s breath on his own skin.
Congratulations.
"Why did you come here?" Haruka’s voice was barely a whisper. "To Tokyo?"
Why didn’t you stay there, living that petty miserable life of yours that you’ve replaced me
with?
The short laughter that shook through the room was heavy, leaving a bitter aftertaste.
"No reason for keeping up the lie, huh?" Rin’s face turned to him again, wearing a desperate
smile. "I guess… uh, I guess I knew from the start what Nagisa would do. Wanted him to,
even. Although I didn’t admit it to myself until you kissed me at that bar."
The long exhale didn’t have an inch of warmth in it when Rin pushed his hands into the
pockets of his slacks, as if trying to keep them from reaching out to Haruka again.
"And being high when he called that night sure as hell didn’t help either." Rin chuckled
through the tears. "I guess I’m too weak when it comes to you. But you know that already."
We would’ve been so good together, Rin.
"Get out," Haruka whispered into the darkness, unable to keep his face straight anymore.
But you’re just too afraid.

When the soft padding of soles on the floor roused a long silence, Haruka knew the man was
going to say something more. And as the feet halted after a screeching sound announced the
door to their future had opened, he knew he was right.
Rin sighed, a sad little smile brightened up his voice once he opened his mouth for the last
time.
"Your hair smells nice."
And then he was gone, for good.
That silence.
Those voices.
It’s never going to go away, is it?
Haruka staggered to the door, disoriented and lost within the coldness of the enormous house,
following the man that would indeed never be his. That much was certain. But his heart
couldn’t let go—tied to Rin’s own by a string he could never cut on his own. Stumbling into
the corridor he had to lean against the wall to catch his breath.
The lounge appeared unchanged on the outside as he made his way towards its entrance, but
he knew better.
Nothing would ever be the same after tonight.
And as his eyes caught the glimpse of Rin’s gloomy face again right in the middle of a
crowd, he knew that it was really the end. Old Kawasaki’s hand rested on Rin’s shoulder and
tapped on it, and Haruka watched through the water in his eyes as Anna’s frame fell into that
precious place under his arm.
No.
You don’t love me.
And it was strange. Because a few days ago he was fine with the idea of Rin living, Rin
breathing somewhere in this world. It felt enough to know he was just there, even though the
chance to be loved back equaled to zero. Yet standing here, it was different. Now, when
Haruka knew how amazing basking in that warmth could be, how sweet the inside of Rin’s
mouth tasted—it was impossible to withstand it.
It was not okay.
And it would never be okay again.
You’d never do this to me, if you did.
And maybe that was why it wasn’t just ordinarily hurting inside like it should have.
Haruka realized, too late as usual, that there was a place deep down in him, a locked-up
room, which should never have been seen by any person. No one should have had the
privilege to get that far.
It was way too fragile to handle what was in there: the scars of almost healed wounds that
took years to close up.
And it was only Haruka’s and no one else’s mistake to let anybody inside, to make a parade
of his weaknesses. To let Rin rip all those scabs off of the cuts, and now their seams were
falling apart again, as if they were freshly made.
No one loves me.
The sound of porcelain crashing against the marble floor fought its way through the pulsing
in his head, and he watched in utter confusion as what was once a vase turned into a
magnificent constellation of thousand little pieces lying at his feet. Horribly white lilies
among them engorged the scene he was sure he was going to remember forever.
Haruka stumbled through the crowd, ignoring concerned questions.
He had to get to the kitchen; he had to find a fresh cloth. With that goal set in his mind he got
to the door, falling through it. Dozens of faces turned his way, examining, waiting for what
was about to happen.
"Haru!" Makoto’s terrified voice felt amiss inside of his head.
Grabbing onto a piece of fabric, Haruka pushed it into the sink, pouring water over it. And
then he rubbed the skin of his neck roughly, again and again, never stopping, trying his best
to remove the stains of Rin’s touches, emblazoned there like a tattoo.
When thin arms curled around him he finally gave up, falling onto the tiled floor. A gentle
girl’s voice repeated his name, and he realized it was Jane’s fair hair that got into his mouth.
“Christ, get him some water,” she ordered someone in the room, and soon there was the cold
touch of a liquid on his lips. He pushed against the glass, wanting nothing more than to curl
into a ball and stay there, all alone. Makoto’s voice mumbled something, but it was too far
from Haruka’s closing-up world to understand.
“I’m so sorry, Haru. He’s… god, I can’t even…” Jane squeezed around his neck again,
ignoring the fact he wasn’t returning the sentiment in the least. “But they never touched, as
long as I—”
A loud sob that bubbled up from Haruka’s throat didn’t let her finish the sentence though.
I don’t want to hear anything.
“Okay, let him be.” A deep baritone cut the nonsense resolutely, and someone must have
pulled the girl away, because suddenly there was only coldness where a second ago her arms
were. And although nothing could ever feel like Rin’s warmth, it was still better than nothing.
Haruka’s body jolted when the commanding voice resonated loudly too close to him. “And
you, what are you staring at? Get out, imbeciles!”
A staccato of steps filled his ears, and when he managed to open his eyes a bit, the whole
crew was filing out of the kitchen in a rush; only curious glances were thrown back over their
shoulders.
“Hold onto me.”
Yamazaki’s silent order echoed through the empty corridors of his brain, and it might have
been the firmness of the voice mingled with the man’s confidence that made his limbs move
slowly.
Or just the loneliness.
And he still didn’t like him any more than before, didn’t trust the man at all. But he was here
while Rin was not, and he was alive while Haruka was dead.
All of a sudden he was hidden within the bear hug, and for the first time in years Haruka
cried.
Mouth open and eyes firmly shut, he was crying out all the misfortunes, all the unfairness; all
the nights he longed for Rin, all the days spent daydreaming.
All the electric smiles thrown randomly his way, all the twinkling in red eyes. All the plans,
all of the things he wanted from the future and was never going to get.
All of Rin.
Somewhere between the sobs he distantly noticed Jane’s and Makoto’s fighting voices,
interlaced by Nagisa’s and Rei’s distressed ones, and 'I’ve had enough' or something like that
was yelled by a surprisingly loud girl. He didn’t give a damn about them.
About happy people living happy lives.
And when it stopped at last, he was being swayed from side to side, shushed like a little baby,
and a big hand caressed his hair. Slowly, like in a slow motion, Haruka freed himself and
leaned his hurting body against the counter.
“Better?”
Cold fabric pushed against his cheeks when he shook his head slightly, tired and sleepy like
never before.
“Wanna get out?” Yamazaki said quietly, waiting patiently for an answer. “I’ve got a car
outside.”
Just let me lie here.

He shook his head again, not wanting to move an inch. A heavy resigned sigh came from his
left, and he didn’t even have to open the eyes to know the man was raking fingers through his
hair.
“Look, I know it’s gonna sound weird… but… you’re not the first, nor are you the last who’s
been kicked to the curb. Shit like that happens every day.”
Haruka ignored him, basking in self-pity.
“So what? Are you gonna give up now? Gonna show him he won? …Come on, you’re not a
weakling, are you?”
So what, so what if I want to be weak?
But something inside of Haruka clicked after the words seeped deeper into his tissues, and he
finally opened his eyes—although keeping them glued to the tile floor. No, he was not a
weakling, that much was true. He was, for the time being, cut open like a fish on the market;
but he was not the one to give in.
So he shook his head for the third time, and Yamazaki patted his shoulder encouragingly
while rising to his feet.
“Like I thought. So come on, let’s get going. And you know what? You’re gonna walk out of
here like the man you are, dolphin.”
He obeyed—it was easier and needed less energy than fighting. And what else, it was the
only thing Rin didn’t want him to do. So what if he needed some revenge—even though it
was of the stupidest kind. So what if he wanted to stoop so low, to act recklessly for once?
Why did it always have to be him who acted rationally?
Add to that staying here would mean the possibility of meeting him again, which was hardly
something he’d be able to survive. The strong hand was helping him back to his feet when
Makoto stepped in, placing a palm on Haruka’s shoulder.
“Where are you taking him?”
“Home.”
Makoto nodded. “Thank you, Sousuke. I’ll come as soon as possible, Haru. I’ll just wait for
Jane and make sure she’s alright, okay?”
The door seemed to be too heavy, the floor too askew. The gravel path too blurred, the night
sky too clouded. Haruka followed the man’s back as if it was a lighthouse shining in the
cloudy night.
“Hold on, we’re almost there,” Yamazaki said, looking over his shoulder and fishing out keys
from his pocket. He motioned to the row of polished cars, parked at the side of the house, and
Haruka wondered dully what kind of money the man owned that he could afford a car like
that. Only when Yamazaki reached for the handle of an old Honda—the oldest and most
certainly ugliest of the vehicles there—it was suddenly much clearer.
He winked at Haruka, and smiled a sad smile. “Get in, dolph—dammit. What the fuck are you
doing here, Rin?” His hand shot up in a gesture of utter annoyance.
A deadly grip on Haruka’s arm made him almost lose balance and turned him to face a
desperate pair of red orbs. He didn’t put up a fight, what would it be good for? He only
placed a hand on Rin’s wrist and the clenched fingers eased one after another.
“I asked you for something, didn’t I?” Rin’s body was shaking violently, as if he caught a
fever. “Don’t go anywhere with him.”
Teeth clattering and hair ruffled, he looked like a rabid dog. And when Rin’s name was shot
by a red-cheeked and very furious Jane running their way, Haruka stepped closer and stood
face to face with the man he’d spent such a long time yearning after.
I love you like crazy.
“You know what?”
But I swear, as sure as I’m standing here, that you’re never going to hear it leave my mouth.
“You can go fuck yourself, Rin.”
He watched with sick pleasure how red eyes widened in shock, for Rin had never heard
Haruka swear before; nor would he ever again.
Strangely, the inside of the car felt better than the open space of the garden; maybe because
standing on the gravel path felt like not being attached to the Earth’s surface at all. For the
first time in his life Haruka didn’t feel the need to be free. On the contrary, he wished
someone would cage him up and place his name on him, just like people did to the water in
those plastic bottles on the konbini’s shelf.
And when Yamazaki’s fingers pushed keys into the ignition and the car finally moved, it was
not Rin’s hands—now curled into fists that hit repeatedly against the hood—that he craved
anymore. It was not Rin’s anything.
The string between them had been cut clean.
Haruka’s eyes fell onto the car’s radio.
“Can you turn it on?”
***
The glass wall of a small fast-food diner was covered by raindrops. It wasn’t raining heavily,
for once; only a drop here and there fell onto the faces of people outside. It made them look
up to the cloudy night sky and quicken their pace so they’d get home before the storm went
rampant.
The TV on the wall ran on mute, showing a stupid antiperspirant advertisement. He debated
whether to stand up and ask the man behind the counter to turn the sound on, but then gave
up on the idea. Yamazaki’s deep rambling made just as good background noises as anything
else.
Most of the time Haruka kept his eyes fixed on the street outside. Now and then they ran
around the diner to make sure he was not alone; that Yamazaki was still there, telling jokes
and old stories that were supposed to be funny.
And it was surprising, really.
Because sitting here, without touching the water standing on the table in front of him, Haruka
didn’t feel anything.
Anything at all.
He wondered idly, if the brain had the very same protection mechanism for the soul as it had
for the body. It had to have been back in high school when someone had been talking about it
—how the mind turned off the pain signals coming from the injury into the brain.
“…uhm, you know what this righteous asshole told me once? I came to meet him right after
practice, I was like fucking running so I wouldn’t be late, and he wrinkled his nose like this.”
Yamazaki crunched his face in disgust, but way too comically, and Haruka indeed felt
something warm stir deep down. “I told him it’s just chlorine, and he should get used to it
around me. But he looked at me like I was the biggest dumbass in the world and said it’s not
chlorine, but chloramines making the smell, and that they form in pool water when chlorine
combines with contaminants brought into the pool by people—like urine, and sweat, and
cosmetics.”
Haruka observed the way the man bit off the enormous part of a hamburger and chewed on it.
At least he swallowed and wiped his mouth off before carrying on.
“Would you believe it? He was telling me right to my face I smelled of piss, conceited
motherfucker.”
A barking dog ran past the window. An odd odor coming from the bathroom filled his nose.
At least his senses were still working, Haruka thought. When something touched the back of
his hand, he jumped in shock.
“You sure you don’t wanna go home?” Yamazaki asked, pulling his palm away hastily.
“No,” Haruka answered too quickly.

His stare returned to the window. It was indeed raining again. He almost wished the memory
of a soaked-up Rin behind a similar window pane would make him feel anything. He let out a
long exhale and muttered flatly.
“You’re actually not as stupid as I thought you were.”
And Haruka anticipated anything else as a reaction—maybe being pissed off, or at least
offended—but the eruption of man’s laughter brought his attention back to him. Yamazaki
was still chuckling when he held out a hand.
“Sorry, hah. But damn, you know how to speak your mind, I tell you.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” A smile still lingered on his lips as he shook his head. “It’s just refreshing, that’s
all.”
“What is?” Haruka asked, frowning, but the man just laughed again shortly and dug into his
meal again.
He had to admit it felt good though, hearing someone’s laughter. As if the whole thing wasn’t
actually as tragic as it appeared to him when he had been entering this diner an hour ago.
Only when Yamazaki’s phone vibrated again, like for the hundredth time since they left,
Haruka knew it was exactly so.
“Can’t you turn it off, too?”
Blue eyes flickered his way from the lit-up display, and he nodded simply.
“You sure?” A sigh. “He’s going crazy.”
I don’t care what he’s doing.
But Yamazaki seemed to understand when Haruka’s eyes were glued to the cars parked on
the red outside.
I don’t care what he’s thinking.
“It’ll get better, you know.”
Will it?
He hoped, desperately clutched onto the idea that it indeed was going to be alright one day.
That he’d wake up one morning and there would be no Rin on his mind. That it would get
passable somehow.
“I still can’t believe it,” Haruka said, shocked by the fact it was really him making sounds in
a human language.
“I know.” Their eyes met for a while. “But you know what they say—that those who hurt the
most are the ones most hurting.”
A picture of his mother crossed Haruka’s mind. It was almost laughable that now he was
finally able to understand what she meant when she talked about his father. How it felt when
someone took your everything; everything you could love with.
Left you terrifyingly hollow, and you almost wished to feel the pain again—so you’d know
you’re still not dead yet.
“Uhm… I know I’m not the best guy to be around most of the time, but… If you’d like…
you—you can call me anytime. To talk, or just to kill the time. You’ve got my number, so…”
Haruka nodded. “Thanks.”
And there was something shy in the man’s eyes when he looked up and met Haruka’s eyes
again. “So I was thinking, uh… if you still don’t wanna go home,” he said, waiting for
Haruka to shake his head resolutely. “You could crash on my couch. I live with three guys,
but two of them are out of town, and Kanji is too wasted most of the time to know his own
name. If… you want, of course.”
And Haruka really couldn’t imagine going back to his place, facing his mother again. Not to
say to sleeping in Makoto’s room—he didn’t want to be a prick, but seeing his happy best
friend wasn’t exactly what he craved at the moment.
When he curled his fingers around the now tepid glass of water and contemplated the man’s
nervous stare on him, Haruka wasn’t exactly sure what Yamazaki’s offer really meant. If it
was supposed to be really just a helping hand to a 'friend', or something completely different.
He opened his mouth to refuse, but closed it right after.
Because as the memory resurfaced of how underneath the ground in a sweaty dancing
dungeon, warm big hands had been able to make him feel something unexpected, Haruka
hesitated.
And looking up the thought crossed his blank, desensitized mind that maybe, maybe, this was
exactly what he needed to bring back the feelings.
He wasn’t bound to Rin in any way, after all; he didn’t owe him anything.
What was he supposed to wait for then?
So after a moment or two he looked to the side and shrugged.
“Yeah. Why not.”
Chapter End Notes

Well…
I know exactly what you all think of me now, and for the very first time I actually
appreciate this site being anonymous, haha. I’m sure one of you would eventually find
me and smash my head with baseball bat in a sleep. ;)
BUT, I can guarantee one thing, which is that this chapter was the saddest, lowest point
of the story. At least for Haru. It’s going to get only better, even though you probably
wonder how the hell it would happen.
I promise I CAN write happy times, it’s actually much easier and definitely more fun
than writing this stuff. I’m sure you’re gonna like it once we’ll get there. (If I haven’t
lost you after this chapter though).
See you soon, guys!!

Chapter 9
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
First of all, please accept my deepest apologies for making you wait so long for this
update, but I was terribly busy. Let’s hope you’re going to forgive me after reading end
notes. :)
Before you start reading I want to thank all of you who found time to leave a comment
on my story, or just hit kudos or hits, it really means a lot to me! You’re amazing, and I
love you all!!
Of course, the biggest THANK YOU goes to marbled_maven for all the hard work with
editing!!
Enjoy!
Night.
The period of time between sunset and sunrise, when the Sun is hidden below the horizon. Or
that’s what they say it is, at least.
But what do they know, really?
Because there are also many who know it’s not that simple at all. That the scarce definition
applies only to those who don’t have anything to regret; anything to punish themselves for.
Anything to be afraid of.
But if you do, if there were times in your life you’d do anything to forget, then you can bet
your sanity that those endless hours spent in impenetrable darkness would call them back.
That they will be plastered up on the wall of your bedroom like a video stuck on repeat,
exclusively for your private pleasure.
Making you sick.
Of all the things you should have done, only you didn’t; of all those you shouldn’t have, but
you did anyway. Of everything you wanted, everything you were once dying for. Everything
that was supposed to forever stay out of your reach, always reserved for someone else.
Of yourself.
Lying in the dark while a strong body moved fervently against his own, drawing yet another
moan out of his gaping mouth, Haruka thought of only one thing: the Super-Frog.
Back when he had been only a small boy, his grandma used to take good care of their little
collection of books. The bookcase had been periodically swiped by her old duster, spines of
books always impeccably straightened into a perfect line. But it hadn’t been those books
Haruka was interested in, no. Because there had also been grandma’s nightstand where there
rested much more interesting books than The Pillow Book.
Like Murakami’s stories, dark and mysterious, incomprehensible for a small, innocent child.
Staring over the sweaty shoulder, Haruka thought he would hardly understand them even
now, if he was given the chance to read that book again. Only a picture here, a feeling there,
that’s all that stayed in his memory after all those years since he’d seen it last.
Except for the Super-Frog.
The story of the creature who wanted to save Tokyo from the huge Worm living in its
underground foundations, so it wouldn’t destroy the city by earth-shattering earthquake, was
indeed unforgettable. The picture of it dying in the small hospital room after the vicious fight,
consumed by wriggling, maggot-like worms and centipede-like creatures was stuck to his
memory forever.
The story itself probably wasn’t as scary as he had thought then. But it used to make him fear
insects, the dark. The death they brought.
And it was during nights like this when Haruka’s chest was filled to the brim with guilt and
mind-blowing pain, when this story re-emerged, making a glorious come-back from the
deepest trenches of his being. He closed his eyes, digging his fingers into the muscles of
strong arms, and prayed for the pleasure of his body to overcome the rest of the sickening
feelings.
At least for a short moment; at least for a tiny bit.
Hands roamed over his thighs hungrily and pushed them even more apart. A jolt of electricity
ran up his spine when the long body, thrusting repeatedly against his own sensitive skin,
picked up the already wild pace. He was close, so close to that point of no return that he felt
his body preparing, tensing, readying itself for reaching the finish line. His head fell back into
the softness of the pillow, part of him wishing this would never stop.
But at the same time Haruka wanted, he needed for this to be over soon. Or even better right
now, because at any moment the worms and centipedes might start crawling out through the
holes burnt in the old hotel carpet by long forgotten cigarettes’ butts. They would cover the
room’s light and fill the smoke alarm—just like they did in old Murakami’s story.
Yet when long fingers painfully entangled in his hair and Rin’s body shuddered as he came
with a guttural moan on his lips right next to Haruka’s ear, he suddenly knew it wasn’t the
smartest wish he’d ever had. Because instead of a gentle smile above him there was only the
waterfall of cold, sharp-like-a-knife teardrops falling on his own face.
The cheap sheets of the Australian bed underneath his own sweaty back were suddenly
soaked up, stealing the warmth emanating from Rin’s naked body. Water lifted them both,
higher and higher, until the bed disappeared without a trace, leaving him disoriented and lost
in time and space. The cooling water touch embraced the two of them; disentangled their
limbs, filled the space between them.
Separated them.
Long red hair floated around the surprised pale face, and in the soft remnants of a light that
had no determinable source, Rin looked like one of those Hindu gods Haruka once saw in the
school’s history book. He wanted to reach out, to catch the man before he flew away, but his
hands refused to move.
Schools of white fish danced in the depths, oblivious to their tragedy.
Stuck with his own protesting heart, Haruka watched how the darkness behind the pale naked
body grew and grew, until it outgrew everything else around. And then, consumed it like a
gigantic sea beast.
And his voiceless scream of despair got lost within the blackness of the ocean, down there,
where the remnants of Rin lay unreachable.
Haruka’s eyes snapped open in the darkness of an unfamiliar room. He blinked, unable to
move, while water droplets ran down both his cheeks. One, two, three—the rivers of needles
falling on the meat of his heart rather than the soaked-up pillow. Slowly, as if the anesthesia
of his body was only gradually dissipating, he managed to lift it into a sitting position.
Everything hurt, from the top of his head to the toes on his feet.
Just a dream.
It was just a dream.
Sweat-drenched undershirt cooled his burning skin as he hid his face into the shelter of
clammy palms. It was nothing but a nightmare, but the feelings still lingered, anyway; they
didn’t want to let go. Cold and sour, they crept underneath his skull, intense in the way only a
dream could make them.
He’s not dead.
And they grew a tiny bit every time the picture of Rin’s sad face materialized in front of his
eyes, sucking the rest of the air out of his chest. He tried to breathe in, but the lungs didn’t
move at all; the brain’s orders stuck half-way to the tissues.
He’s just gone.
Haruka pulled the damp fabric over his head and tossed it over the couch’s arm. Well. Was
this what he wanted to get back yesterday? The pain so strong it blinded? It was beyond him
how he could have thought that this was any better than being dead. Because no matter how
hard he tried this unyielding night, his heart couldn’t see any difference between Rin falling
into the dark waters of his dreams and Rin sitting on that damned plane.
And it didn’t mean a thing whether the man spent long hours of the flight remembering their
shared heat like he promised.
It didn’t mean anything at all.
Gone.
Maybe everything would be an inch easier, if Haruka’s body was willing to compromise.
Because it was still shaking, still painfully hard, unable to understand that there was no Rin to
soothe the aching pressure. That he had never been there to make it feel this way in the first
place.
Haruka lowered his head between his knees, trying to push back a loud sob, bubbling up his
throat.
I’m really never going to see you again, am I?
Watery eyes traveled over the floor under his feet. It desperately needed vacuuming, that
much was clear even in the weak light of the moon. An occasional empty can and piles of
what seemed like dirty clothes were scattered over the tatami of Yamazaki’s common area. A
distant sweet stench of decomposition attacked Haruka’s nose again, most likely coming
from the kitchen. Layers and layers of platters and god-knows-what-else filled the sink and
covered almost every surface possible.
I’m never going to touch your pale skin again.
He didn’t want his stupid eyes to turn that way, he indeed didn’t. But they were his own
enemy now, just as they had been during the whole hellish week. Slowly they moved from
the floor, shortly danced over the closed doors of bedrooms, and ended on the old leather
wallet on the coffee table.
And then there was no power in the world to stop his fingers from reaching for it. Pulling out
the folded piece of hard paper, Haruka closed his eyes for a moment before turning it over
and unfolding it.
The little smile on that beautiful face; the shadows created by admiring light on the strong,
lean muscles; color of that perfect hair. A single scene stolen from Rin’s life; his fingers
forever reaching for the goggles on his forehead.
Everything that made Haruka’s heart race—now, and probably for the rest of his days.
It’s really time to let go, isn’t it?
He rose to his feet without returning the picture into the secret shelter of his leather wallet.
Safe from others’ eyes—the privilege to look was his and his only—it fit perfectly between
two half-rotten pieces of orange at the bottom of the kitchen’s trash bin.
Haruka straightened again and stared for minutes at the slowly swaying red plastic cap. It hid
his biggest treasure perfectly; no one was ever going to find it, not even him—once someone
took the bag away. Yet knowing that he wouldn’t see the picture again brought little to no
relief.
It had already been tattooed on the back of his eyelids, anyway.
Good-bye.
The early morning breeze was blowing softly against his unbearably hot skin as he leaned
against the railing of the small balcony, heaving for air. Still alive, still existing despite
everything. Slowly coming to terms with the reality. And he knew the centipedes and worms
were not going to crawl into his mouth and ears like he had feared in the dream, but Rin—
well, he was indeed gone.
He understood that he failed to keep him close once again; hadn’t even properly tried,
because he simply had no idea how to accomplish such an impossible task. So what? It was
just another person who didn’t think he was worth the time and energy.
So what?
A tentative light started to crawl from behind the planet in the east, bringing the promise of a
new day.
A day that would be just as miserable as any other had been so far. Nevertheless, still a day.
Good-bye, my love.
The birds chirped among the trees towering in front of the balcony. The apartment was only
on the first floor, so it was impossible to see over the foliage, but that was just fine. It felt as
if the dark green roof over his head sheltered him from the cold of the slowly dying night.
Haruka sighed, mind running to Yamazaki sleeping soundly in his room, and to the way the
man smiled a second before he had closed the door behind him last night: surprisingly
nervously, hesitantly. Tenderly, even.
But despite his best efforts, Haruka didn’t know if he was able to look at him any other way;
if he could change how he thought about the man since the moment he’d met him for the first
time. For Haruka he had always been nothing more than that obnoxious and stupid Rin’s
friend; the kind you could never understand what anybody saw in.
After last night, though, he had to admit that something small had changed. Almost
imperceptible, it was barely manifesting its existence. Yet it was indisputably there. If
nothing else, Haruka thought, he had a lot to be grateful for.
And, surprisingly, the peaceful atmosphere of the upcoming morning was slowly starting to
soothe the hurricane inside of his chest. Little by little, inch by inch. It takes time, they say,
and as he stared into the distance, Haruka hoped that maybe a year from now, he would be a
different person. That he’d be more than a pile of depressive thoughts and disappointment of
unfulfilled dreams—he loathed this version of himself more than anything.
He knew it was high time to stop hoping for castles in the sky. Damn, he knew all too well it
was time to give his heart a chance to see something else.
Someone else.
The question was, though, if he would ever be able to do so.
A distant, already familiar voice reached his ears, and Haruka’s confused brain couldn’t wrap
around the fact that the man he was just thinking about was angrily stomping under the
balcony. Yamazaki was obviously talking on the phone, barking words that were hardly
understandable from the distance. Only when he stood in front of building’s front door,
searching for keys, Haruka realized he was able to catch a word here and there. The man
pushed the phone between his cheek and shoulder, fingers of other hand battling with the
heavy bag.
“Yeah, I told you I’ll talk to him, didn’t I? Just calm her down, damn. He needs to rest, now.”
Oh.
Was he talking to Rin? The sting of pain was surprising, leaving him breathless again.
“Yeah… yeah. Alright, I got it. Fine. ”
Haruka looked away and returned inside; he had had enough of eavesdropping for his whole
life. The apartment was silent and still mostly dark as he stood in the middle of the common
area. Hesitating, not knowing what to do, or where to go. But for the first time in ages it
didn’t scare him all that much.
An echo of heavy steps on the stairs somewhere below brought a strange calming feeling to
that unrelenting ache. It didn’t make it go away, but it turned it into something bearable.
However it was, at least he was not alone.
The warm yellow light spilled over the room, and Haruka breathed deeply for the first time
that morning.
“Ugh.” His eyes snapped towards the door where Yamazaki’s face wore a startled expression.
He didn’t seem to notice how lemons fell off the bag one by one and slowly rolled all over
the ground. It took the man few long seconds before he spoke again. “You’re up already?”
Haruka let out a neutral 'uhmm' and reached for the fruit closest to his right foot. His eyes
returned to the man still standing unmoving in the genkan and sighed, fighting off the funny
feeling caused by the intense stare.
“Breakfast?”
A slight motion of his chin towards the bag finally brought Yamazaki from wherever he was
lost until then.
“Uh, yeah. Hungry?” he asked and his face broke into a tentative smile just before he kicked
off his shoes. Haruka’s eyes traveled over the contents of the big bag, once it was placed on
the counter.
Yamazaki took out a few cans and a heavy load of vegetables, and Haruka’s eyes scanned the
items with interest.
Well, not what I’d expect from him, hah.
“Sorry for all the mess here, but it’s impossible to do anything about it. I’ve tried to clean it
up more times I can count, but it looks exactly the same the very next morning. Those guys
are pigs, period.”
Haruka knew his face couldn’t fight off a small amused smile as he picked up the can with a
picture of a mackerel on it. He spun it in his fingers, looking for a reason to not look at
Yamazaki’s face. It was quickly turning pink, though, seemingly oblivious to the man’s
wishes.
“How come you know so much about me?”
Yamazaki chuckled, and there was something mischievous and playful in his eyes when he
looked up.
“Like where you live?”
“Like where I live. Or what I eat."
The man shrugged, now fully grinning. “I’ve got my secret sources.”
And when he winked, not only something strange twisted in Haruka’s stomach, but it also
seemed like the room’s temperature rose slightly.
Come on, Nanase.
Get a grip.
Haruka sighed, mind running to the plane taking off somewhere at Narita—or maybe already
in the air somewhere above the ocean. Because being here, standing in the slowly
intensifying light of a morning sun he felt almost normal. And he had no other chance but to
wonder how it would have looked like, if he and Rin ever had the opportunity to share this
time of day.
I’d cook for you, if you wanted.
But that, like many other things, was something he was never going to find out. So it was
probably for the best to avoid such stupid questions. After a while he cleared his throat,
finger pointing at the opened fish can.
“I can do it, if you want.”
“No, no.” Yamazaki shook his head resolutely. “You’re my guest. I can handle one
breakfast.”
Haruka sat down on the stool, studying the darkening shade of the man’s face and the way his
fingers quivered slightly.
“You sure?” he asked after a while, not knowing how to decipher the tension that suddenly
vibrated through the air.
“Well.” Yamazaki breathed out with a small nervous laugh, gaze stuck on the knife in his
hand. “If you put something on, I can at least try.”
Haruka’s eyes fell down to his own chest. So what? He wasn’t naked, after all. Black slacks
he slept in were still in their place, although honestly hanging a bit low on his hips. With an
inner sigh he admitted he had lost some weight over the last few days.
Why is he acting so weird?
But when he looked up and met the blue stare once again, its intensity made everything very
clear and easily comprehensible. The scrutiny made him swallow and push back something
oddly hot in his stomach.
“So-sorry,” he stammered and set off in the direction of the couch. Grabbing the shirt and
putting it hastily on Haruka almost missed the soft laughter behind his back. He turned
around at the sound, meeting the strangely dark eyes.
“Never apologize for being naked in my kitchen, dolphin.”
Even thirty minutes later as both of them sat on the couch, watched some nameless TV show,
and ate silently, Haruka still couldn’t fight off the blood from his cheeks.
You see, Rin?
This is how we could have been now.
With his eyes stuck on a non-defined place behind the TV, mouth full of too cold fish, and
mind fantastically blank—it really was almost bearable. Not only was he able to breathe—
quite surprising after the way he woke up from that nightmare a while ago—but he was also
eating. He couldn’t recall the last time he had had something in his mouth, except tasting
what he had cooked last night.
And Haruka wasn’t so bold to hope that thoughts about Rin were to go away anytime soon,
but for some reason, being here next to this person made them somewhat duller. They were
still there, bubbling up from his unconsciousness against his will, but their sharp edges were
missing the most sensitive parts of his mind.
Only we wouldn’t have been able to move a muscle after the night spent in bed.
The horrible necessity of going home soon crossed shortly Haruka’s mind, but he pushed it
away. He was going to think of it when the time came. Swallowing a piece of pineapple, he
set his mind on watching the show and doing as little thinking as possible. Not that it lasted
for too long, though.
I would’ve been wearing that black shirt of yours now, just because I could.
A girl in the show cried and cried, and thanks to her horrible acting it was hard to tell if it was
supposed to be funny or dramatic.
And you would’ve been staring at me with those eyes, luring me back to the sheets.
“You finished?”
Haruka jumped at the sound, and his face snapped to the side, meeting an expectant stare. He
nodded through the confusion and let the man gather the platters. It took only three or four of
Yamazaki’s steps in the kitchen’s direction, putting a short distance between them, and
everything was suddenly back.
Haruka’s hand shot up to his chest, pushing against the hole that screamed with an intensity
he so wished to never experience again.
It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible to stop thinking. To stop feeling
and regretting. Even though he was losing something he had never had in the first place.
I said good-bye to you, didn’t I?
“Uh, dolphin.”
So stop haunting me, already.
Yamazaki’s voice was strangely nervous as he stood in front of him. Haruka stared at the man
as he was pulling on a leather jacket. He waited for what was about to come, all the while
relishing the pain eased a tiniest fraction as the man took a small step closer.
Was Yamazaki leaving? A wave of black fear washed over him.
“I’m going out now. But you can stay here as long as you want. Just avoid Kanji as much as
possible,” he said, motioning towards the narrow bathroom’s door.
Haruka nodded after a while, not knowing what the man wanted him to say or do. Looking
down at his folded hands, Haruka tried his best to not beg Yamazaki to stay here with him.
I’m so screwed.
They weren’t friends. They weren’t even on first name basis, although who knew how that
annoying 'dolphin' nickname should have been categorized. But Yamazaki just stood there,
his gaze traveling over the apartment as if he was looking for an answer to some unknown
question. Finally he rubbed his face and sighed heavily.
“Okay, look. Uhm… They want me to tell you, although I’m not convinced you need to know
it right now. But blondie would probably open my skull with a screwdriver, if I didn’t ask you
to turn your phone on.”
In the short moment that followed Haruka forgot how to breathe again, and his heart instantly
quickened the pace. A few long seconds ticked away before he was able to see through the
colorful stains in his field of vision.
“What?”
Another sigh.
“There’s, uh… well, uhm… it looks like they can’t find him… sort of.”
A silence.
What??
“Sort… of?” Haruka pushed out through gritted teeth after a long, tense while. Was it only a
continuation of that horrible dream, or was Yamazaki really talking about Rin? But the man
just nodded, apparently trying to make it look as if Haruka’s morning nightmare wasn’t just
trying to crawl in through the opened window.
“Yeah. Well, it seems like there was quite a ruckus after we left yesterday, and then he ran
away, not telling anyone where to, or when he was coming back.”
Something indefinable crossed Yamazaki’s eyes as Haruka slowly rose from the couch. The
man cleared his throat, at last, and went on. “The girl… Jane’s her name? She said the
airlines let them change the plane tickets for a later flight today, or something like that. I
don’t know, I don’t speak English that well. And besides, she was yelling at me most of the
time.”
Haruka would swear that this time his heart was finally going to succeed in choking him. It
refused to stay in his chest, galloping the wild pace, beating against the breaking ribcage.
Was this even possible? Was this real?
"And you’re telling me now?"
He knew his tone was threatening, dark and unforgiving, but he couldn’t help it. How long
had this idiot known about it? How long had he been consciously letting him think that
everything was relatively fine?
No, this had to be only a dream. How else would he explain the ever-consuming fear that
once again fed on his insides? Something like that shouldn’t have existed in the real life.
Because it was back: Rin was drowning, falling into the dark depths.
Rin was dying somewhere, all alone.
“There’s nothing to do now anyway. I and the blond midget… I mean, your friend, we’ve
been running around to the hospitals—”
“God,” Haruka whispered and raked shaking fingers through his messy, unwashed hair.
Pacing the room he suddenly realized that air in the Earth’s atmosphere contained, in fact, too
little oxygen.
Rin.
“But we didn’t find him. The police say it’s still too soon to do anything. I personally think
he’s just sulking somewhere. I’m sure he’s gonna show up soon. But blondie is going out of
her mind.”
Rin.
“Did you try to call him?” Haruka asked, and his own words made him dart in the direction
of his phone. With rigid fingers he tried to bring the device back to life. Like always when he
needed it the most, it took ages for the display to light up.
Baby.
What have you done?
“Of course we did. It’s ringing, but he’s not picking it up.”
Where did you go?
Well, Haruka thought, while petrifying fear made him sit down on the couch, if that wasn’t
even worse than his phone being turned off. He tapped in the pin code, making only four
mistakes, and immediately dialed Rin’s number. When the robotic voice filled his ear, it took
every inch of Haruka’s being to not throw the device against the wall.
Fuck.
I forgot he had redirected my calls.
“Come on, dolphin,” Yamazaki said with a voice serious. “You don’t really think he would do
something stupid. I mean… he’s an idiot, but he’s not insane.”
But Haruka wasn’t that sure. Because he was the only one who heard those weird words
coming out of Rin’s mouth last night in the dark moon-lit room; full of self-hatred,
uncharacteristic resignation, and misery. No, this man standing in front of him had no idea at
all how bad Rin had been feeling lately.
I did.
I knew.
The blazing guilt set his insides on fire. It was so much like his dream, Haruka would swear a
dozen or so centipedes ran through the piles of pots, crawled down the counter and dug under
the old tatami.
But I didn’t want to see it through my own shit, did I?
Haruka lowered his head between his legs once again, hoping to get the dizziness under
control. He felt like throwing out everything he had eaten only a few minutes ago.
“What about Anna?” he whispered to no one in particular. “Her father can do something, for
sure.”
A sigh.
“I don’t think he’s too keen on helping Rin. It looks like the girl hasn’t exited her room since
the dinner last night. Or so blondie told me.”
Haruka stood up, fighting the unsteadiness of his jelly legs, and started gathering his things.
The phone he still clutched in his hand almost fell to the ground as ringing filled the quiet
room. Faster than he thought was possible Haruka pushed the button to accept the call.
"Nanase-kun, I’m so glad you picked it up."
Dammit.
The disappointment was crushing, fighting with even stronger fear and annoyance over his
employer’s bad timing.
"Ito-san?"
“I was trying to get you on the phone the whole night. I need you to come over."
Haruka’s eyebrows furrowed over the urgency in the baritone. A murmur of peoples’ voices
in a background made it simple to decipher that the man was in his souvenir shop—probably
standing behind the counter with an old wrinkled hand pushing an ancient-aged phone
against his ear, while the finger of the other one tried to block out the clamor.
"I can’t talk now, Ito-san," Haruka murmured, hoping the old man didn’t have any problems.
But during every second of this conversation Rin could call, and who knew what would the
man do if he thought Haruka didn’t want to talk to him.
"Nanase-kun, I know I told you on Monday you won’t be needed this week anymore, but the
consumers went crazy over your bear carvings."
Haruka sighed, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading.
"I’ll come tomorrow. I really can’t tal—"
"I wouldn’t bother you, Nanase-kun, if it wasn’t important. But there is this man who is here
only until the golden week ends, and he wants only your work, nothing else. I tried to sell
him my own things, but he’s stubborn. Since he’s leaving later today, he promised to come
back in the evening. So, I’m terribly sorry, but... eh... could you come now?"
Haruka rubbed his face, trying to push down the anger. Because he knew precisely how
desperately the old man needed any yen coming his way; how his small shop barely made it
through each month. How big a change a good order from the wealthy customer could make
for his slow business. And under different circumstances he would’ve done first and last to
help him.
But not now, not when a knife was painfully swirling in his guts.
"I don’t think so, Ito-san. I’m sorry, but I have something else to attend to.”
"But, Nanase-kun!"
“I’m sorry,” Haruka said and ended the call. Grabbing on the wallet he turned to leave,
finding a somber face waiting for him. He walked past the man, genuinely wishing he hadn’t
done what he did. Now, when it finally started to be manageable between them, when he even
felt good in his company. When he needed him to stay sane.
But this—this was unforgivable.
And the man seemed to understand it as he followed Haruka’s movements towards the door.
“At least let me give you a lift. I was gonna drive around for a while. Maybe I’m going to be
lucky.”
Haruka stood up after tying his shoes and sighed, unable to meet his eyes.
“Thanks, but I’ll take the subway.”
He didn’t need to look back to know the disappointment went both ways.
***
Haruka pondered, as he took stair after stair up to his condo, that some nightmares were
never meant to end. You just keep plodding through the most absurd scenes; everything
created only in your head, yet more real than what you can touch with your own hands.
A wrecked car here; a stray cat there. A homeless guy reaching for your leg from the narrow
street; sun that never seem to peek through the thick layers of clouds.
The apartment was silent, except for the soft murmur coming from the common area. The
door to his bedroom was left open, and while its inhabitant was obviously gone for the time
being, it didn’t feel like the place where he used to dream bittersweet dreams about one
stupid man.
It must have been centuries ago when he lay there with a pillow behind his back.
With a hoarse 'Haru' Makoto’s grim face emerged from behind the wall, and a second later
his arms were curled around him, patting his back gently; soothing, calming.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
And he wanted to bury his face into his best friend’s shoulder and cry all that petrifying fear
out. Only the tears seemed to be stuck somewhere between his eyes’ sockets and his brain,
turned to little stone pebbles just like all of his rational thoughts. Makoto let go of him, at
last, and the weight of his observational stare was too heavy.
“Rei,” Haruka rather murmured towards the tall man standing in the doorframe. His friend
nodded back, trying to put up a smile. And Makoto’s face was also stretched into a weird
imitation of a grin when Haruka’s eyes finally rested on him.
They were trying so hard, but he just couldn’t muster energy to make it look like he believed
them for a second.
“Has he called yet?” he asked when nobody said anything for too long. Rei shook his head
hesitantly and spoke in a subdued voice.
“Nagisa’s at the police station. He won’t let them breathe until they do something.”
At least someone’s doing something.
“Did you call Rin’s mom?” he asked in an effort to keep his mind from panicking.
“Well,” Makoto said hesitantly. “We wanted to wait a little longer. I mean… maybe he
needed some time of his own. There’s no need to scare her and Gou.” His voice was silent,
and by the time he finished he seemed to somewhat shrink under Haruka’s gaze. “Haru, he’s
a grown-up man. And strong one to add. No one’s going to—“
“Call her.”
“O-okay.”
He watched Makoto’s back until it vanished behind the door of his room, and only then
realized how strange his heartbeat felt. Because an hour ago when Yamazaki’s words had
reached through to his brain it felt as if his heart had been everywhere in his body at the same
time—swollen, filling his insides to the brim. And with each new word a thick, pulsing vein
on his stomach had pulsed stronger and stronger, until it vibrated frantically under the
contracted abdominal muscles. But now, now there was nothing.
As if his heart wasn’t beating at all.
“Haruka-senpai,” Rei said, attracting his attention back to him. “He’s certainly going to call
us soon. Let’s wait together for a while.”
I can’t just sit here.

When he’s out there, all alone.
But what else was there to do? Run around the streets like crazy? Or going mad right away?
Maybe that was the only option, after all. Because with every breath, taken with an enormous
effort, Haruka’s brain was seizing up, imagining things that couldn’t possibly be there.
Like a worm crawling around his bare foot.
A wave of nausea washed over him, making him move forward hastily—run away from
disgusting remnants of the morning’s nightmare.
He’s fine.
He’s alive.
I have to believe it.
A sleeping girl’s body was curled in the worn-out armchair. He observed for a second how
her pale face moved with shallow breaths, although it was mostly hidden behind the waves of
fair hair. They seemed to need washing, just like his own did. With a sigh Haruka fell down
into the second chair, fished out his phone, and tried his luck for what had to be a millionth
time. Rei found his place on the tatami on the other side, sitting down and leaning his head
against the wall.
He’s going to call me and then I’ll tear his head off.
Damned moron.
What does he think, scaring me like that?
“You?”
Haruka’s eyes, which just a moment ago traveled over the piles of videogames under the old
TV, now snapped to the girl’s side, meeting Jane’s burning stare. She wiped her sleep-filled
face and lifted herself into sitting position.
“I see you finally deigned to leave his bed and come here?”
A silence.
What?
Haruka felt his eyes narrowing. He couldn’t be sure, but hadn’t she been on his side just
yesterday?
“Jane,” Makoto spoke gloomily as he walked in and took place on the ground next to Rei.
“Give him a break. He had a rough night.”
Her swollen, puffy eyes turned away for a moment, only to anchor on the side of Haruka’s
face just a second later. He sighed, feeling her penetrating gaze as if she just slapped him
across the cheek. It lasted five endless seconds until his patience ran out.
“What?” he spat, knee jumping in distress.
“Nothing.”
Both Rei and Makoto sighed in unison, and he, for the life of god, couldn’t understand how
they could stay so collected. As if she wasn’t trying her best to pick a fight, with her voice all
provocative and daring. Where was that nice, smiling girl from two days ago?
“We all should probably calm down,” Rei said, pushing his glasses higher. “Quarrels won’t
do us any favor in this situation.”
I’m trying, damn.
“Where’s my mother?” he asked hoarsely into the thick silence, and watched how Makoto
and Rei exchanged looks. He didn’t know what he was supposed to think about it, but he
certainly didn’t like it one bit. His best friend cleared his throat, at last.
“Well, uhm, she didn’t come home with us.”
What the hell does he mean by that?
The memory of Anna’s father crossed Haruka’s already petrified mind, and he had to give his
head a little shake to clear it from horrible possibilities that arose from the simple
information.
God, don’t let that happen.
He sighed, tapping on the display, sending yet another message that most likely wouldn’t get
a response in return.
Jane’s stare still lingered on him once he accidentally turned to face her way, and in a sudden
moment of lucidity Haruka realized she was probably expecting him to say or do something.
But no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to find out what it was.
“He didn’t call me. I’d tell you, if he did.”
“I know he didn’t.” Jane chuckled darkly. “I wouldn’t expect him to talk to you.”
Haruka drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes.
Count to ten.
Just count to ten.
What the hell did he do to deserve such treatment? Hadn’t she been there last night? Hadn’t it
been her who hugged him after that unfortunate conversation with Rin?
“So what, now it’s all my fault?” he asked after a tense while, knowing all too well that his
voice was far from steady.
When Jane jumped out of the armchair, the sudden movement startled all of them.
“Well, isn’t it?”
Haruka blinked, watching in shock how tears ran down her cheeks. A soft sob came out of
her throat as she pushed quivering palms against the greenish face. “And mine too. I… I
shouldn’t have yelled at him like that. I should’ve known he was not strong enough. That he
wouldn’t take it. Damn.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and Haruka watched Makoto stand up and hide her in a
firm embrace. But Jane just pushed against his chest, trying to free from the hug.
“Come on, guys,” his best friend said gloomily, and his tone didn’t match the cheering words
that came out of his mouth after that. “I’m sure he’s okay. Don’t be so pessimistic. He’s
gonna show up and a week from now we’ll be laughing at it.”
But as Haruka’s eyes met her light blue ones, he knew better. Because there were only two
people in this room who knew the truth. Only two who had at least a vague idea of what was
happening in Rin’s head. Although as they stared at each other now, Haruka realized that
what he had had the privilege to see must have been just the tip of an iceberg.
A glimpse of the monster, sleeping under the cool, arrogant façade.
Jane’s eyes glistened with accusation born of fear that was similar to Haruka’s own.
“He just did what you wanted him to, didn’t he?” A silence. “Like he always does what you
want him to do.”
I…
“Jane, calm down. Right now,” Makoto snarled next to her, his voice uncharacteristically
commanding.
I… I told you to fuck off, didn’t I?
But she didn’t seem to hear any of his words. Haruka rose slowly on wobbly legs, all the
while her blazing eyes never left his. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t bear being a victim of her
judging. Not now, when the guilt from the nightmare was making its way up from the
unconscious part of his mind like a roaring, hissing beast, digging its claws into his still,
unmoving heart.
So you did.
“I was right there next to you. I heard what you said to him. You, of all people.”
I failed you.
The silence that ruled the room was too tense, too painful for him to stand it. He could feel
Makoto’s and Rei’s eyes on him, searching, guessing what so horrible could have come out
of his mouth last night.
I…
It hurt too much then, and I…
“I thought I knew you, Haru. I was on your side all along in this mess. I know what he did to
you. But…” Jane’s voice quivered as Haruka’s hands turned into fists. “But the Haru he
talked so much about would never leave him when he needed him the most.”
Enough.
Enough!
Haruka turned on his heel, ignoring the concerned voices of his friends. They both were
saying something; the things unimportant; words that could change nothing about the fact he
was a sore loser.
And the genkan felt too narrow as he hastily put his shoes on, not losing time with the jacket.
But Jane’s words made their way through the loud beating in his ears anyway.
“Are you running away, again?” she yelled over the railing up on the staircase as he made his
way down the building and prayed to be able to block out all the unbearable sounds of this
damned world. “I thought you promised, Haru. You promised to never give up on him!”
He ran down the stairs in a rush, stumbling over his own legs.
And when his feet finally touched the pathway in front of the building Haruka halted,
realizing that he, like before, had nowhere to run to. He took off in a random direction
without intention to stop moving until he’d fall down dead.
Because once he stopped, the truth would finally catch up with him.
The truth that last night he had abandoned the man he loved the most just because he was not
going to get what he wanted from him.
That he ignored the way Rin had been hurting just because he couldn’t make him his. That
his selfish words made him run away, hide from the world. That he failed to make Rin
believe he was better than any other human being that ever lived on this planet, dead or alive.
At least for Haruka.
***
The air of the small back room of Ita’s shop was too heavy, still, unwilling to be used for such
a petty purpose like keeping Haruka alive. He wouldn’t be surprised if it just decided to spit
on him and leave through the opened window.
That’s what the water was doing as of lately, anyway.
His hand was everything but steady as it grabbed the chisel from the tool’s kit for the third
time, put its blade against the wooden block and pushed. But the line was crooked again, just
like all of them had been so far. No matter what he did, he was not able to keep his fingers
from shaking.
No, even the feeling of pliant, warm wood in his hands didn’t stop the thoughts. Didn’t even
slow them down a bit. And he didn’t understand why, because it always, always used to
soothe his swirling mind before.
But, he guessed, nothing stood a chance against this nightmare.
Call me.
He couldn’t go home again. He couldn’t go to school before it would be opened for their
training. All he could do was either sit on the bench, staring into the distance—which was
exactly what he had been doing for far too long once his legs finally gave up running—or try
to get himself together at least a bit and wait until he would get that call.
For Rin, for them both.
With a sigh he put the chisel down and wiped a sweaty palm against the thigh. His skin wore
half-moon marks of his nails, fingers pushing way too strongly in a vain attempt to make the
hand move at the right angle, right speed, right force.
With a silent curse leaving his mouth he threw the tool and the wooden block on the table,
praying for any sign that this day was going to end up better than it started.
Call me, dammit.
But nothing happened, not a sound roused the quietness of the stuffed room. Just like fifty
times before he sent his prayers and begs to any deity his mind was able to come up with.
And it still felt as if he was standing in the middle of a lightning storm with hands tied behind
his back; looking the dark future right in its face.
His mind ran back to the few moments of this morning when he, sitting on Yamazaki’s couch,
thought that he would be able to get over it. Get over Rin.
Maybe not today, not even tomorrow. But one day.
Now that half an hour felt like the eye of a hurricane. And it had to happen eventually—him
losing balance and falling through the opposite cloudy wall right in the middle of a downpour
again.
Call me. Now.

Because it was one thing to know he was not wanted or loved. He could live with it; poorly,
but he could.
But if there was a possibility that he was not going to hear about the man again; that Rin was
not going to get a chance on living his life, that he was never going to get on Haruka’s nerves
with that stupid cockiness again. Well. Then it really would be the end.
Sitting here on the screeching old chair Haruka realized he could never get over something
like that.
It still hurt like hell, it did. But like the last piece of a puzzle that falls into its place, he
realized he could never let go, no matter how hard he tried. He could say his 'good-bye' a
million times over, but it wouldn’t change a thing. Because what he felt for the man was not
for a day, or a month.
It had been growing for too long, slowly built over the years. And now it had infiltrated his
very being, had become a part of the person he was.
And he suddenly understood he would happily go through the pain of last night again and
again; he would. But he just needed to know Rin was fine. That he was alive and well
somewhere out there; now, and every day of the separate lives they were going to live from
now on. Yes, it would be an everyday torture.
But there was no other way to exist.
Now. Call me now!
Please.
He looked up, meeting his own stare in the cupboard’s window. His face still wore that same
expression, and he wondered once again how could Makoto, or anybody else, see through
him like glass. Had he not known how his own insides ached, he would’ve probably believed
it was just another regular day for Haruka Nanase.
“Nanase-kun?”
He jumped at the sound of Ita’s old voice that startlingly came from right behind his back,
and then he watched, bewildered, how all the tools from the kit fell from the table, offering
an exceptionally dramatic show once they hit the ground. With wide eyes he followed them
as they rolled all over the floor, under the table and cabinets, until most of them left his sight.
When someone cleared his throat Haruka looked up, meeting the stare of two pairs of eyes.
Ita’s wrinkled face was nothing shy of tense as his gaze flickered between the younger man
standing next to him and the half-done work laying on the table.
“I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said, looking rather stressed. “But how are you standing
with the carvings? The gentleman here is forced to leave the country earlier, so…”
And Haruka had to admit he wasn’t surprised at all by his employer’s reaction. Because the
man standing by his side now looked like everything but a regular customer. With hands deep
in the pockets of his summer suit he returned Haruka’s stare with black eyes that balanced
between amused and curious. Honestly, this man was as different as possible from shorts-clad
tourists that filled old Ita’s shop during the holidays, or elderly Japanese pairs who bought the
wooden creations in order to put them above the fireplace.
Mid-thirties in age, dressed with utmost care, he wore an impassive face of someone who
knew there were many trying to read it. He was rather short in height, but it didn’t detract
from the aura of dignity that floated around him. Haruka’s eyes fell down to the fine brown
shoes, buffed to a nice gloss.
A businessman, maybe?
Even before he opened his mouth Haruka knew the man was not Japanese. The lines of his
jaw and eyes spoke of a foreigner; maybe Taiwanese.
“My deepest apologies, Nanase-kun.” The man spoke in Japanese that bore strong accent,
and Haruka blinked in utter surprise when he took a step closer, looking over his shoulder at
the table. “My name is Chang Liu. I’ve been in awe of your abilities for a long time. I
sincerely hope my last-moment order didn’t cause you any trouble.”
Haruka sighed, annoyed to the brim by the stranger who now stood far too close for his
liking. He motioned to the window frame where lay the only carving he was able to finish on
time and kneeled down to start gathering the tools. At last, Chang seemed to understand he
was not going to have a partner for the conversation he most likely came to the back room
for.
But this was not a place for customers, no matter how wealthy, or authoritative they wanted
to appear.
Dammit, Rin.
How long are you going to make me wait?
The man walked to the window, taking the bear carving into his hand; turned it, observed it.
“Well,” he said after a short while. “It certainly isn’t your best work. But I guess it will have
to do. Where are the other two I ordered?”
Haruka glanced at the man, suddenly intrigued by the almost imperceptible change in his
voice. Chang was definitely the kind of man who liked being shown respect to, and he
seemed to be quickly losing patience with Haruka’s aloof behavior.
But he was in no mood for fulfilling anyone’s expectations.
You’re going to call in five seconds.
“I didn’t make them.”
Okay, in ten.
Haruka wasn’t trying to apologize, or defend himself. He was, in fact, happy he managed to
get that one thing done, even though it was—just like the man said—far from nicely done
work. The bear-with-jumping-salmons carvings were not Haruka’s favorite anyway, and it
was a miracle he was able to concentrate enough and not throw it out of the window half way
through.
“You didn’t make them,” Chang pronounced slowly, raising one eyebrow. Haruka watched
him purse his thin, bloodless lips and turn towards horrified Ita. The old man straightened
under the stare, as if the eighty-three years of his decent life were going to end right then and
there.
What was he so scared of?
“Ita-san, may I ask you, with all the respect, to give us a short while of privacy?”
Damn.
What does he want from me?
But when they were finally alone—just the two of them in the small, stuffed back room filled
with cabinets and cardboard boxes piled up to the ceiling—it was suddenly obvious they
were not going to talk carving techniques, or the creations Haruka could make from the wood
with chisels.
He didn’t even know how he figured it out exactly; it was in the way Chang stared right in his
eyes while circling slowly around his back. The man was evaluating him, trying to figure him
out.
The question was why, though.
“Say, Nanase-kun,” the man started with a small smile and deceptive casualness. “Where did
your talent come from? I suppose things like that must run in the family.”
Haruka felt his eyebrows rise. This was, indeed, quickly becoming a very strange
conversation. He decided for a simple shrug and a head shake and pretended to return back to
the half-done carving in his hands.
“No artists? Siblings, parents, grand-parents? No, nothing?”
What the hell does he want?
“None that I know of,” Haruka said after a long, tense while, feeling the man’s intense stare
on him.
Get the hell out of here.
“What do your parents do, Nanase-kun? If it’s not too rude of me to ask, of course.”
Haruka met the black, searching eyes again, feeling his blood pressure rise. Chang was way
too curious, and far too annoying for his own good. And if he thought he was talking to a
little boy, Haruka thought, he was following a very wrong trace.
Just get the fucking carving and let me be.
“It’s not. But it’s also none of your business.”
To Haruka’s utmost shock the walls of the small room resonated with the man’s deep bass
guffaw, and when the sound finally dissipated, he wondered what it was with his answers as
of lately. He wasn’t aware of trying to be funny, although he seemed to be succeeding in this
area quite nicely.
It took the man two seconds and four long steps and suddenly he was grabbing the fabric of
Haruka’s white shirt. Chang pulled him up with surprising force, until he was standing on
two legs.
Haruka blinked, completely bewildered, and realized that despite being a head shorter than
him, the man obviously thought he was the one controlling the situation.
“I see you have a damned good idea why I’m here, so let’s put an end to this little show of
yours. Now, the sooner you tell me where I can find him, the sooner I can leave with your
face untouched and my new suit clean.”
Haruka’s heart finally woke up from the stupor and leaped into his throat, running a wild race
with his mind. It took him a while, but finally he understood that what he was facing here
was not just a random annoyance; an ordinary person trying to violate his private space—an
everyday phenomenon.
No, this man was different.
He might have been anybody. He might, to be honest, just as well belong to one of those
weird parties that abound in Tokyo, living in the shadows of honest businesses. And while he
had no idea what a man like that might have wanted from a nobody like him, Haruka didn’t
find the option of getting the answer any more alluring than being in the dark.
Seconds ticked by, but he still didn’t know what the answer to Chang’s question was
supposed to be—if that was even his name at all.
“Find who?” he pushed out after a solid while.
The man’s eyes closed, and he let out a long, tired sigh before speaking again.
“You know what I hate about these jobs the most?” he asked while using his free hand to
search in the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Haruka’s eyes widened when the glistening blade
of a small pop knife filled his field of vision. “It’s the young, sassy motherfuckers like you
who think how smart they are. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been doing this job?”
Chang stared into his eyes for a long time, and Haruka finally understood he was really
waiting for an answer. So he just shook his head hesitantly, hoping it would be sufficient.
“Right, you don’t. I tell you it’s been too long. Too fucking long, actually.” A sigh. “So, let’s
get it over. Where is he?"
A picture of Rin’s face shot through Haruka’s astonished mind. It didn’t make any sense, he
thought frantically, for the man to be looking for him. What would he want from someone
like Rin? Then again, after the torturing hours Haruka had lived through since this morning,
he simply couldn’t ignore the possibility that his disappearance somehow was connected to
the man grabbing his shirt. A not so impossible connection to Anna’s father shortly crossed
Haruka’s mind.
When the tip of the knife dug into his skin, Haruka faltered, searching for the courage to take
over the situation. No matter what the man expected, he had no intention to let him lay his
hands on him without consequences. At least not without a proper fight.
What the fuck is going on?
“Well?”
Haruka knew he was not of the smartest kind when it came to human interactions, but staring
into Chang’s hard eyes, even he understood that asking the same question once again would
be quite unfortunate.
He tried to breathe, but the panic was way too strong, crushing his lungs into a small ball of
muscles and bloodless veins.
“I don’t know,” Haruka muttered finally as the man’s grip on his shirt strengthened, “who
you’re talking about.”
“Who the fuck do you think I’m talking about?”
And Haruka would’ve most probably waited for a proper answer, because above the shock
and overwhelming dread he truly wanted to know if his assumption was correct. But it was
exactly in that moment when the silent, yet magnificently heart-twisting sound echoed
through the room.
Haruka’s eyes snapped to the phone lying innocently on the table, now moving along with
each vibration of an incoming call. And in a short moment when he looked back at the man
something mischievous crossed through his black gaze. When Chang spoke, Haruka knew he
had no other option.
“Is that him?”
Fuck that shit!
With the only thought on his mind Haruka’s hands shot up, fingers curled around the wrists
and twisted painfully. Chang obviously wasn’t prepared for such an outburst after the way
Haruka had been bearing his fate up until that moment, and it took him a short moment until
his reflexes caught up with his brain.
But unlike Haruka, he seemed to be trained for combat, and once he was pushed away he
easily predicted further movements. He leapt in the direction of the still ringing device,
grabbed it into his hand like a snake would catch a rat, and pushed a tip of the blade right in
Haruka’s face, effectively stopping him from making another step forward.
Fuck!
With the strongest premonition of his life Haruka simply knew it was Rin on the other side.
He snarled hatefully, wanting nothing less than to tear the man in pieces. Moving forward
despite the knife pointing against his left eye he reached for the phone, but the man was too
fast; he took a step back and slipped from his grasp just in time.
Like a damned cat.
“Nanase, you sneaky motherfucker, how nice to hear from you,” Chang said cheerfully into
the phone with a winning smile, and Haruka’s brain convulsed. “I haven’t had a chance to
talk to you for too long.”
What??
"Where have you been all this time? We were so…" The man trailed off, listening to the other
side of the line for a while with a slowly darkening expression.
Everything bubbled, everything boiled in Haruka’s insides, and for a little while his vision
turned to red. He was ready to beat the crap out of the man, if that was necessary to get to the
phone.
But then—as if it was the most natural thing of all—Chang clicked his tongue, made a
disappointed sound, and suddenly the phone was flying through the thick air right in the
direction of Haruka’s bewildered face.
He caught it with a sweaty palm and blinked in utter shock.
“It’s for you. You’ve been lucky this time.” Chang waved his hand with a sour expression,
hiding the knife back in his pocket. He made his way towards the back door of the shop
placidly, as if he just didn’t put a knife to someone’s throat. “But don’t worry, young Nanase.
I have a feeling this is not the last time we will see each other.”
And with that he was gone.
The door swung back into its previous unmoving state with a soft swoosh, as if the weirdest
person that Haruka had ever met didn’t just leave through it with a horrible promise and even
more dangerous smile.
Haruka stared after the man with mouth agape, until the sound of his own name brought his
attention back. He pushed the phone to his ear immediately, still not breathing, still too
shocked to get words through his lips.
“Dammit, Nanase, are you there?” Rin’s furious voice resonated through his brain, and he
blinked, waking up from yet another nightmare of the day. “What the fuck? Haru? Answer
me, damn! Haru!”
“Rin?”
“Oh, thank god. You okay? What the fuck is happening out there? Who the hell was that
asshole?”
And with brand new wave of pain that cracked like a whip against the thick, pulsing veins on
the muscles of his heart that suddenly burst with life, Haruka realized that it was really
happening.
Ah.
He was really listening to him. To very alive and very angry Rin. Anything else was pushed
out of his mind as if it never happened; unimportant, already forgotten. The nightmare of this
morning; the hours of endless waiting. Even the weird man with the knife.
He was going to deal with other shit when the time came. But not now, not now.
Rin.
He felt his knees buckle under him and it was only the hard wooden floor that held him from
falling right into the middle of the Earth, his body disintegrated into billions of particles. The
smile that his face stretched into was too wide, too painful—made the tears running down his
cheeks fall right into his mouth.
Thank… thank you.
Choking on the saltiness on his tongue Haruka laughed through the lump in his throat, and
his lungs were giving up when he tried to speak again.
But Rin seemed to understand it as he sighed on the other side before speaking silently,
gently.
“Haru.”
Thank you, God.
Thank you for this chance.
The heel of his free hand pushed against his eyelid, trying helplessly to stop the stream. And
he wanted, so desperately needed to get the words through; all those voiceless 'I love you's,
despite how he had promised to never say them last night.
Because for a few dark hours he thought there was no one he would’ve ever wanted to say
them to.
Yet something else was making its way up through his throat instead, born from the all-
consuming urge to curl his fingers around the neck of this stupid, stupid idiot and strangle
him for all the torture he had caused.
For making him feel like standing on the reef, pulled back from its edge in the last second
before the gravity took him away.
“Where are you?” Haruka spat acidly, understanding Rin was very lucky they were not
standing in the same room now.
“Why?” Rin said dryly, immediately catching on the change of tone.
Come on, Nanase.
Haruka sat back on his heels, running fingers through the sweaty hair.
Get a grip.
A clamor of a busy street filled the background of the line as Rin exited a building
somewhere and mingled with the crowd. Haruka listened, while electricity ran through his
veins instead of blood, and prayed for that gentle, deep voice to fill his brain again.
This is not how you get through to him.
And few seconds later he was really going to say something reasonable, but when an
unmistakable sound of soft blowing filled his ear, Haruka narrowed his eyes.
“Are you smoking?”
Calm down, dammit.
“No.” The blatant lie made his blood run even wilder. Rin sighed on the other side, as if
Haruka was trying his patience. “Haru. I’m calling, cause I—”
“Let’s meet,” Haruka offered, but it came out more like an order. “We’re going to talk.”
Like normal people do.
A soft chuckle filled his ear, and Haruka really thought for a second he was going to snap.
But then the words came, gentle and vibrating with a poorly contained smile.
“Someone’s in a bossy mode.”
The hell, Matsuoka.
“Don’t you think we’ve said everything there was to be said, Haru?” Rin asked, and Haruka
wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, or if there was an underlying meaning—of a
stupidly teasing kind that only this idiot could try to pull off in a situation like this.
No, we haven’t.
“You’ve already missed your flight,” Haruka said through gritted teeth, barely keeping his
crazily jumping heart under control. “It’s not going to kill you to wait for the next one with
me, Matsu—”
“Haru, calm down, okay?” Rin interrupted with a chuckle. “I was going to suggest the same.”
I haven’t told you yet how amazing you are.
“You were?”
How precious a human being you are.
“Yeah,” the man added in a flat voice after slowly blowing smoke out of his mouth, and
Haruka understood the private window to Rin’s soul had been closed. He was back to suave
idiot, and there was no way he was going to deal with him in this state of mind.
Even though you make me want to murder you most of the time.
A long silence stretched while Rin’s steps and occasional puffs filled that space of the
universe separating them—tiny in comparison to its whole size, but enormous for those who
couldn’t reach out and touch. As Haruka closed his eyes, it really felt as if there was nothing
else in the world—just him and that sweet sound of a breath on the other side.
And it wasn’t as if they were done fighting, or as if everything was forever going to be okay
—like in a damned fairytale—just because the idiot finally decided to make this call and
made few oh-so-funny remarks. Hell, no.
But after minutes of listening to each other’s quietness, just before Rin spoke again, Haruka
realized that he knew exactly how his face must have looked like at that moment: like always
when the need to look cool and indifferent collided with what was bursting out from the
deepest places of his radiant soul.
An outcome of it was visible right there on the pale face for everybody to see as this stupidly
sour expression with one eyebrow raised, lips pursed into a thin, annoyed line. And there
were less then few who knew that you had to look to the red eyes to find what was beyond it.
As Haruka slowly lowered himself down on the floor, he was dead sure that ninety-nine
percent of the people passing Rin on the street now thought how utterly cool, laid-back guy
he was.
But I know, Matsuoka.
I know exactly how you look on the inside.
It felt like one of those weird afternoon rains when sun shines through the heavy teardrops as
Haruka’s hand shot up, covering his mouth from little giddy laughter that was trying to crawl
up his throat. All the while the tears were still running free; like they did last night, like they
would be tomorrow morning.
You can’t fool me.

“So,” Rin said in voice too bored to be believable. “We have a deal. But I have to go back
first and get a shower.”
Not me.
Haruka exhaled with a smile and nodded as if Rin could see him. “I’ve got training in an
hour.”
“Cool. I’ll meet you there then.”
“Rin?” Haruka asked in a rush before the man ended the call, and didn’t even bother to wait
for an answer. “Call your mom.”
And after one long exhale and muttering something unintelligible Rin abruptly hung up.
Even ten minutes later Haruka stared at the phone as if it could give him a silver lining he so
desperately sought. Because, yes, he was going to meet him again.
And because nothing could make Haruka forget what had happened between the two of them
last night; what had been said. Because the memories still made the edges of the searing hole
in his chest lite up with a white hot flame, too painful to get over. Rin had already made his
decision, and even if there was some unknown, secret way to change it, Haruka wouldn’t try
to search for it again. That time had passed.
What was done, was done.
Haruka’s fingers pushed against the place where his heart beat wildly under the ribcage,
trying to ease the burning ache.
But Rin’s blonde friend was right. He indeed promised to never give up on him.
And although now the promise was only shy of impossible to keep, he had to at least try. He
blinked into the rays of the sun falling on the floor from the window, all of a sudden afraid he
was going to break into hundred pieces if he looked into those beautiful red eyes this very
day again.
But lifting himself up Haruka knew all too well there was no other way, not now, when he
was given a second chance.
Because living in the world without Rin’s blazing light—even though it was shining on the
other ground—was impossible.
And in the ideal world he would’ve been given years, or at least months to get over this state
of heart. He would’ve taken his time sulking, long enough to make the pain duller and not so
loudly yelling from inside. Then, one day, it would’ve been less burning, more bearable, and
Haruka would’ve been able to look in that face again without falling on his knees.
And then, eventually, he’d crawl back to Rin’s life again. Because he was a needy loser like
that.
But this was not an ideal world.
In the real one, though, there was one stupid, arrogant idiot who needed his help too much
now. And Haruka simply couldn’t find a way to let the time he needed pass without causing
irreparable damage. So what was he supposed to do?
He just had to bite his tongue, put a smile on his face, and do what he had to in order to bring
the man back to his senses. To make him see he was not a nobody, a lost cause, like he’d said
about himself last night.
To make him understand he was everything but those things.
And Haruka had no idea, no idea at all what he was going to do, or if it was going to have
any effect. Maybe it was just another worthless try—like the one in the mansion had been—
and it was probably going to end just the same.
Yet as he dialed the number and placed a sweat-covered phone against his ear once again, he
knew one thing for sure.
That there was hardly anything that could worsen how he felt at the moment. What was
another little scar in the sea of those already existing, right?
“Rachel? Are you, by any chance, at the school now?” Haruka asked, waiting for a
hesitant 'yeah' on the other side. “I’ve changed my mind. But I’m going to need a favor in
return.”
***
Fear wears way too many faces to be classified as a single emotion.
One is cold, seeping through your bones like a fifteen-minute-long wait for the bus on a
freezing January morning. Another is hot, burning owner’s marks on your chest as if you
were a young calf waiting in line. One makes you run for cover, another binds your legs and
hands—forces you to watch the things you fear the most approach; closing the distance,
laughing at your weaknesses.
One is hard like a rock inside of your heart, while the other turns into jelly that surrounds
you, making it impossible to see clearly the world around.
Neither of them is forgiving.
The long school corridor was silent except for the sound of Haruka’s own breathing as he
leaned against its wall. Holidays robbed it of students’ laughter and chattering, and left it
eerily vacant. Thick walls didn’t give a chance to the heat of a first warm day outside, and he
sighed when a gust of cold air brought goose bumps along the length of his arms and back.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to leave his jacket in the locker room, after all.
The echoing sound of hasty steps, coming from behind the corner, made him push off of the
wall and listen. He gave his phone one short look, making sure he was there on time.
It had to be her.
And just like he thought, in a few seconds a shock of red hair emerged in the corridor,
moving quickly in his direction. Haruka straightened in anticipation. He was, indeed, trying
his best to keep his eyes from running to the brown satchel swaying in Rachel’s hand. But
maybe it would’ve been a better option, after all, because once he looked to the violet eyes, a
chilling feeling ran down his spine.
She halted in front of him and pinched her lips.
It didn’t take a scientist to understand she was not excited in any way to be here. But he
wasn’t, either; especially when the idea of what he was about to commit himself to filled his
mind. It made him slump his shoulders even more.
“I still don’t get why you simply didn’t ask Tatano-san,” Rachel muttered, and looked to the
side. The satchel in her hand found its way to her chest. Her arms protectively curled around
it, as if he was about to rip it out of her fingers.
“He’s sick,” Haruka said in a flat voice. “And I need it now.”
“Hirai-san, then.”
Haruka lifted one eyebrow, and she sighed, easily understanding. There was no way that man
would go out of his way to help a student. Especially not when it came to Haruka. Maybe for
Hagino, but even that was highly debatable. Hirai was a prick, at best.
“It’s for an hour. Two, maximum,” Haruka said, reaching his hand in the satchel’s direction.
“I’ll bring it back as soon as possible.”
Rachel took a deep breath, and her eyes were unsure when she met his stare.
“And you’re going to do all the work.”
A nod.
“The translation. Booklet cover, all the graphics.”
“Yes.”
“And I’ll have it on my desk in two weeks? With sketches and everything?”
Haruka sighed and lowered his hand.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
It took her a few seconds, but finally she released the pressure on the satchel and let it fall
down to her side. Painstakingly slowly she pushed her hand into it and pulled out a thick
folder. Haruka watched her look around and fought the need to face palm. Not only was she
acting as if they were in an action movie, she was also keeping him from training.
No doubt Hirai was going to throw something at his head if he arrived late one more time.
His hand shot up, taking the folder with his name on it from her hesitant fingers and pushed it
under his arm.
“I’ll be waiting in my office.”
Nodding slightly Haruka turned away, but her voice stopped him before he had the chance to
leave.
“You understand what would happen if Hirai found out I took something from his office,
don’t you, Haru? Restricted information like that?” she asked, obviously still unsure if she
made the right choice. “He’d make them fire me on the spot.”
Haruka pursed his lips, wishing she would just let it be. He wasn’t going to betray her trust,
in the first place, and she was making it look much more serious than it was, anyway.
“Nothing like that is going to happen. I’ll be back soon.”
With that he finally left her standing there, shaking his head over her exaggeration. And he
was doing his best to ignore the way her gaze followed him until he turned the corner. But if
nothing else, thanks to the way her eyes burned a hole into the back of his head, Haruka
realized that she was most definitely not going to make him her assistant as she mentioned
before.
She did this for him, because it was more than convenient for her to place all the work on one
person rather than two, or more—without the need to look for other students who would only
reluctantly take over it. But if she claimed to be his friend before, well, now she most
definitely changed her mind.
Once the folder found its place in his locker, Haruka changed hastily and ran for the
natatorium, where training was already in full swing. And while he earned a few ugly and
threatening looks from Hirai, nothing worse happened.
His head burst with thoughts as he made his way towards the pool. Every single moment of
this week spun around his mind, leaving him almost breathless as he stood on the starter
block. How it all started with his mother’s arrival—the endless stream of weird situations,
awkward moments, and painfully made decisions; everything culminating into the worst
nightmare of all—this day.
How it had never crossed his mind that he was ever going to go through something like what
Rin had put him through these last days. And also how the pulsing in his ears—a reflection of
his frantically beating heart—started immediately as his name popped up in his mind with a
red light of circling alarm; as a reminder of the next hour or so that he had to spend in the
company of the man he wished to never see again.
The man that also happened to be—completely schizophrenically—the one Haruka wanted
nothing else but to hide in his arms for the rest of his life.
Or at least until Rin’s plane took off.
Stop that.
There’s no way back.
You’ll keep your promise and let him go.
Because Haruka knew, like he didn’t know anything else, that he wouldn’t stand to go
through that hell again. If the future was going to bring him something similar to yesterday,
he wasn’t going to make it out alive. No, this time, he had to stand his ground. Even if that
smile showed up again—which he hoped was going to happen after he’d finished with Rin
today.
He had to keep his mind set on the plan, every fiber of his brain concentrated on the sequence
of steps that were supposed to bring at least some results.
It’s going to work.
It has to.
There’s no other way.
Only when his fingers touched the water surface as he dived in the pool, everything went to
hell again. He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t wrap his head around it; how the water—the
entity that had never betrayed him in any way possible, the only one that had trusted him all
of his life—now refused him completely.
Without reservation, as his feet pushed against the pool’s wall at the turn, it made it clear he
was not welcome there. That he should’ve been so kind to grab onto the pool’s edge, and get
the fuck out of there.
“Nanase.” Haruka’s head snapped up at the sound of his name, and he held on the holder on
the starter block. Hirai’s displeased stare met his own bleary eyes. “To the showers.”
Haruka looked down at his quivering fingers, understanding without further ado what those
words meant. He was really not wanted here, anymore.
By the water. Even by his own team.
The man shook his head once Haruka pushed himself up and straightened next to him. The
sky behind the natatorium’s windows was clear, promising a hot, sunny day, when he felt the
sting of Hirai’s voice again.
“You wanna drown, go find yourself someone else’s pool.”

There was no way Haruka could keep his face straight as he moved his body in order to walk
away. With a towel thrown over his wet hair he lowered his head, hoping no one from the
team would see how hard it was to breathe. They could never understand, not in a million
years, how important the bond he used to share with water was in his life.
How essential for his existence.
“Nanase? Hey.” Haruka turned at Hirai’s words, only to be met with a surprisingly serious
face. With a little bit of imagination he would’ve said there was a hint of concern in the black
eyes. “You alright? You don’t need a doctor, or something?”
He shook his head and walked away without a word.
And his heart was still strangely convulsing when his fingers ripped the swimming trunks off
of his body and turned the faucet of the shower. The hot stream fell on his head, burning his
skin. But instead of clearing his mind, robbing it of everything that was trying its best to push
him over the edge, the water was screaming with revulsion. Drops ran down his body, but
didn’t wash him. Didn’t want to make him clean.
Haruka leaned his forehead against the wall of the empty communal showers. Drawing in a
long breath, he kept his eyes firmly shut.
Water.
But the word spoken in his inner voice didn’t get any reaction. Not that he’d ever tried to talk
to the water this way, but there had to be a first time for everything.
Water, please.
Listen to me.
Up until this moment he had never needed to plead; to try to communicate his thoughts and
wishes in this stupid way. Water had always known what he wanted it to do, just like it was
the other way around. They both simply understood.
But the time had come, at last, to admit it out loud. Whatever had once been between them,
wasn’t working anymore. The bond was bent, if not broken, disrupted by some unknown
force. Compromised.
Is that what you want?
To have me down on my knees in front of you?
And Haruka knew he wasn’t the one everybody had known before; the one he used to be—
the weirdo married to water, that odd crazy boy who would’ve slept in its arms, if he wasn’t
going to drown in his sleep. In the strangest, most incomprehensible way—a dolphin’s
incarnation.
No, now, he was just that weirdo.

So here I am.
He gritted his teeth, muscles of his jaw painfully tensing. An unfamiliar wave of anger was
rising inside of him, like when an underwater earthquake would rouse the ocean’s surface,
bringing it to life with a force that was impossible to stop.
Asking you.
Because after weeks, what—months of wondering, spending every minute of his spare time
in the pool, exerting his body to the last drop of energy, he had had enough. Because he’d
tried literally everything he could to fulfill all the water’s whimsical demands.
To understand the reasons of its capricious administration.
Damn, I’m begging you.
And Haruka knew, as the drops that ran down his naked shoulders and the back of his thighs
vibrated ever so slightly, that there was no way to continue this pre-divorce kind of
relationship—with all imaginable nuances of ignorance and bitterness; mutual
misunderstandings.
To show me what I’m doing wrong.
The water was either going to willingly tell him what the problem was, or he would find a
way to force it to. His nails scratched against the tile wall as the heat of a burning stream
filled his eyes and mouth. The hotness, the burning sensation filled his lungs and stomach.
His everything.
So I can make a change.
His heart launched into even crazier pace when he felt its whispering lurk at the back of his
mind.
The answer was somewhere there as he finally reached for it—a translucent hand
immediately curling its fingers around his shoulders; embracing his chest with its scalding
hot arms. And yeah, it was petty for the water to not give it to him right away, to make him
wait. Beg even. But Haruka didn’t mind.
So I can make it right.
And it was almost laughable when he realized with a start that he probably wouldn’t have
sought the answer, if it wasn’t for Rin. Most likely he would’ve simply let the time pass, like
he always did, hoping that something was going to happen. Something that would’ve
miraculously solved all of his problems.
Which would’ve never happened, of course. And he would’ve had yet another reason to feel
hurt and disappointed for the rest of his life.
Because I need you now.

More than ever.
But Rin was too important. Like always, he was the one who wanted something of Haruka;
always made him cross his comfort zone to reach for the man—and it didn’t make too much
difference if the demand was yelled at him while he was pushed against a chain fence, or
whispered between the lines of apologies in a moon-lit room. Plain and simple, this was just
another time that Rin expected him to work for something as if it was the most natural thing
of all.
And as usual, in the end, it was something they both wanted.
So now he stood there, under the burning stream, wanting to find the solution to his own
disconnection to water’s loving arms, so he could pass his own strength along to someone
else.
For him.
Haruka’s eyes snapped open.
For me.
He was scared, so scared this was not going to work, that it made him want to throw his
clothes on and run from there, like a kitten he used to feed back in Iwatobi when it was
startled by a loud sound.
But he knew, even as the showers started to fill with other swimmers and he walked out in a
haze, that he couldn’t give in now. He couldn’t just throw the towel into the ring, like he
would’ve done, had he been in this alone.
Fear is a strange thing, Haruka thought, as the sound of his fast steps resonated against the
long and empty school corridors.
It’s hot, and it’s cold. It’s hard, and it’s like jelly.
And sometimes it makes you scared of the things you love the most.
The long shadow of a human frame spilled over the lino floor, and his eyes traveled up to the
tall man standing against the white light of the midday sun falling in through the glass panels
of the school entrance. Haruka’s feet fell out of rhythm for a moment as Rin’s face turned
towards him.
It was still bathing in the blinding light, but he didn’t need to see it to know the angle of the
jaw was incomparable to any other—that much his own hands had told him before. To know
exactly how perfect the shape of eyes and lips was—that’s what he had found out with his
own, after all.
He really didn’t need such lousy proof as sight to know all of that.
The only thing he didn’t know now was what he feared more. Whether it was the necessity to
get closer and let his brain feast on the beauty that he was never going to be shown again, or
the possibility to turn on his heel and run away. Because he could—to stop his feet on the
spot and get out unharmed.
And never see that face again.
“Yo, Haru.”
No smile, just a little frown was all Rin gave him as Haruka cut the rest of the distance
between them in a couple of strides.
And it took Haruka’s everything to not break his nose right then and there. Rather than that
he let his hand shoot up to the strands of dark red hair. They were still a little damp as he
pulled forcefully, taking that stupid head with their motion before he let go.
“Ouch. The hell, Nanase!” Rin’s protest was loud as he massaged the skin and brought the
janitor’s attention to the two of them. “What was that for?”
Haruka looked at him with narrowed eyes, unable to believe he was really asking such an
idiotic question. But Rin’s face fell even more when an answer wasn’t coming his way, and
Haruka sighed, closing his eyes for a second.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, Matsuoka.”
And suddenly there was something else in the red eyes; something warm and tender.
Something he hadn’t seen in there since that time when he had stood at the airport in
Melbourne, and one particular red-haired moron waved at him all the way through the check-
in; and long after that, as long as he remembered.
Something that frighteningly reminded him of a slow, early-spring day spent at the side of the
Iwatobi swimming club pool, filled with soft pink petals. And as one corner of Rin’s lips
quivered and rose slightly, he would’ve sworn that the delicate scent of cherry blossoms was
not a product of his imagination.
Don’t let it fool you.
“Let’s go. I want to show you something.”
Turning on his heel Haruka thanked god that Rin was not Makoto; that he couldn’t see
through him like a glass panel. Because he was barely managing to put one foot in front of
the other as he walked, not to mention how impossibly difficult thinking was.
He decided, after a while, that keeping his body in movement was everything he needed to do
anyway.
“I thought we were going for a walk, or something.” Rin’s voice was cautious as he followed
Haruka’s back through the school’s area.
And it was only natural that his already reluctant steps halted once the two of them turned the
corner. The man had been here just once, but Haruka knew he was going to recognize the
place immediately. He looked back, annoyed, and pushed against the double door that
separated them from the locker rooms.
“We are. I just have to take something from my locker.”
A rather dark 'hmm' that followed was everything he’d expected to get. Haruka tapped in the
code and pulled the metal locker door open. Snatching the folder and a bag he turned to meet
Rin’s gloomy face.
The man was obviously everything but happy to be here. Haruka sighed, fishing his phone
from the pocket of his pants and threw it unceremoniously in. Rin’s eyes widened with
puzzlement when Haruka motioned between him and the metal locker.
“Yours too. I want a private talk. No disturbance.”
He watched with a squeeze in his gut as both eyebrows rose.
Come on, don’t be a prick.
And then, with a slight shake of his head Rin sighed, obviously unable to believe how deep
Haruka’s weirdness ran. Pushing his hand into the inner pocket of his long jacket he pulled
the device out, and checked the display before putting it next to Haruka’s own.
He didn’t even comment.
What a miracle.
Haruka swallowed thickly as his eyes rested on the black plastic cover of the phone. Way too
much pain was caused by this small, unimportant thing. The locker door banged loudly as he
pushed against it a bit too forcefully. He was determined to do everything he’d planned, to
keep his promise as well as he could, so both of them would be finally free from each other.
But instead he only stood there, catching for breath, trying to find a glue to keep the edges of
the searing hole in his chest together.
Just a little longer, and it’s done.
You can make it.
Rin behind him sighed again, bringing him back to reality. He glanced at the man, suddenly
remembering a detail he’d almost forgotten.
“Do you have a passport here with you?”
“What? No, I don’t, dammit.” Rin huffed in annoyance, and scoffed. “If I knew we were
gonna skip town for the Bahamas I’d bring my flippers.”
Haruka walked past the baffled man, pushing the thick folder into his hands.
“Look at this.”
Yet there was only silence where Haruka anticipated steps and the sound of paper listing. He
turned, and his heart did a somersault once again—completely unreasonably, just because he
was such an idiot. Rin wasn’t doing anything to cause such a reaction, after all. He just stood
there with lips pursed and eyes glued to the name on the folder’s cover, not even trying to
open it.
“Let’s go,” Haruka muttered to the quiet room, forcing his feet to move.
And when he’d already started to think that the man turned into a marble statue and was
never going to follow him, Rin eventually moved. Wearing a strange expression, he stood
next to Haruka as the door swung behind them. The air seemed to turn a tad colder as long
fingers finally pushed between the sheets and turned pages one after another.
Revealing the truth that Haruka wasn’t sure he was ready to share.
Come on, Nanase.
He glanced at Rin’s focused reading face, and fought the need to flee.
It’s just Rin.
“The Bahamas, huh?” he asked instead of running away like a total dumbass, and blinked
when red eyes turned to him with a small, but noticeable sparkle.
“Why not? Have something against it?”
And there it was again: a crooked smile with one raised lip corner. Haruka’s breath hitched in
his throat as he looked away and shrugged, pushing his body once again into motion.
“Can’t swim there. Too many sharks in the sea.”
Rin snickered behind his back, and his eyes probably returned back to the papers in his
hands. They had to, because the man obviously followed without paying attention to the
direction Haruka took.
“Haru, what is this supposed to mea—” Rin’s words halted mid-sentence and his face
snapped up from the folder once Haruka pushed against a door once again. This time, though,
it was a completely different door to a completely different room.
Distant sounds of human voices, whistles, and water splashing reached their ears, and Haruka
watched how the expression on the pale face turned from confused to scared in a split second.
Rin blinked, unconsciously taking step back and his adam’s apple jumped up and down as he
swallowed. Haruka looked down at his shoes, still leaning against the now opened door,
waiting patiently until the man regained the ability to speak.
“Haru… I’m not going to swim again. That’s not…”

Haruka sighed. “No one said anything like that. I just have a message to deliver.”
So I was right.
“To whom?”
That it’s not going to be easy.
The look in red eyes was hesitating, and it was impossible to miss the fear glistening in them
as Haruka’s thumb pointed to the other side of the natatorium; to The Princesses occupying
the bleachers. Sprawled there like each day after practice, they were laughing, making fun of
a few brave beginners that dared to swim under their mocking stares.
Being idiots, per usual.
Don’t be afraid.
“Isn’t that…” Rin swallowed again, his eyes glued to the biggest man among them. “Isn’t
that… Hagino Yamato?”
“You know him?” Haruka asked, and waited until Rin nodded before turning his body and
fully entering the natatorium.
I’m here with you.
“Like who wouldn’t know him, Haru?” Rin grumbled once he stood by his side inside, soles
of his sneakers sticking to the damp tile floor. “On which planet do you live?”
Haruka let it pass without comment, and rather focused on the way the blue water alluringly
gleamed in the strong sunlight. It was beautiful; perfect even. And although now it was doing
next to nothing to slow down the blood circling crazily in his veins, he was sure it was the
sight he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life. And as he glanced at the man walking
by his side, noticing how strongly long fingers clutched onto the folder—knuckles white
from the pressure—he knew he was not the only one.
It was apparent in the way the muscles of Rin’s jaw contracted; in the way his eyes weren’t
moving over the lines at all. That despite his best efforts he could hardly keep them from
turning to the blueness on the left.
It’s okay.
And it was everything Haruka needed to know: that Rin felt it too. That strange, inexplicable
pull; the hardly contained urge to dive in. The one that vibrated through the lymph of your
body with nervous energy. The man might have claimed whatever he wanted, but the two of
them were the same when it came to water.
The pool was mostly empty as they made their way along its side. Haruka forced his eyes to
stay on the shapeless flowers, created on the natatorium walls by intense sunlight. It reflected
from the water’s surface, and the trepidation of its white beams matched the rhythm of his
rampant thoughts.
Feeling his blood pressure rising even higher, Haruka exhaled and curled his fingers into
fists, only to release them right after. At least, he thought bitterly as his courage wavered
once again, the distance was still sufficient between them and the laughing group.
Come on, time is running out.
And his hand was already starting to move when the folder in Rin’s hands suddenly closed
with a loud thud. The unexpected movement made him jolt and his face turned fully towards
the man who sighed and raked fingers through red hair.
“The hell, Haru. For starters, I have no idea what you want me to see in there, and anyway…
I didn’t come here to check on your times. I need to tell you something importa—”
“Give it to me,” Haruka said in a rush, unable to hear the rest of the sentence, ripped the
folder from Rin’s hands and pushed it against his chest. And he knew his voice quivered
slightly when he spoke again silently. “You’re impossible.”
With a rising panic he measured the distance that separated them from The Princesses once
again. A few of them, including Hagino, clearly already noticed the two of them approaching.
Now, or never.
It’s now—or never.
Haruka took in a deep breath. Closed his eyes. Opened them.
Don’t be a pussy.
And with a last shaky exhale he let his hand shoot up, fingers digging into the strong
shoulder. And there was only a surprised yelp, followed by a loud splash of water in the short
second that preceded the roaring laughter from the bleachers that shook up the natatorium to
the core.
I really did it, damn.
Haruka turned his face away, unable to see the man; fully clothed, and now utterly drenched
in the pool’s water. Especially not when the sound of a loud inhale reached his ears—
probably as Rin’s head finally emerged above the surface.
Horrified more by his own stupidity than the man’s earth-shattering anger he kept his eyes
closed for as long as he dared. But as he opened them, at last, it was far worse than he
thought it could be.
Because he’d seen Rin pissed-off before. Damn, who hadn’t? To say it was a common sight
was an understatement of the year. But now, as their eyes finally met, Haruka knew it wasn’t
one of Rin’s regular emotional outbursts.
Rin.
And with full-blown panic in his chest Haruka prayed that this was really the right thing to
do.
Trust me, please.
Because the reaction he’d hoped to get was not coming his way. No yelling, no cursing,
nothing was happening except for a horrible silence that stretched between them.
It had to be this way.
Rin was heaving, completely still, staring at Haruka from under the wet strands of ruined
hair. He was clutching the pool’s edge so hard, Haruka was sure he was going to rip a tile or
two off it. The water poured from his clothes like a waterfall as he lifted one hand and
pointed his finger in Haruka’s direction.
And it was in that short moment, when the undeniable sting of betrayal crossed Rin’s eyes,
that Haruka stopped breathing altogether.
No, no, no.
“You,” Rin hissed, at last, and spat the water out of his mouth, his stare unwavering. “You.”
“Rin.”
The bleachers shook with another wave of laughter, and from the corner of Haruka’s eye he
saw Hagino’s skinny friend imitate the comical way Rin plummeted into the water minutes
ago. And when hard red eyes turned slowly from the group of best swimmers in the whole
school—and most likely in the whole Japan—back to him, Haruka finally understood.
He thinks it was revenge.
“Don’t ever say my name again.”
He didn’t know if it was in the way those words were pronounced with such an acidity it
could poison the whole pool, or because those perfect eyes Haruka loved so much turned
away, but suddenly he felt it.
The petrifying fear seizing his stomach into a vice grip.
He thinks I did it to humiliate him in front of them.
Rin hands pushed against the pool’s edge to get his soaked-up body out of it, and then
probably from Haruka’s life for good.
N-no.
“Stay right where you are,” Haruka said without even trying to cover the panic in his voice,
hurriedly placed the folder down on the ground, and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Tossing
it on the backpack next to his feet, he undid his belt and stepped out off his shoes
simultaneously.
“What the fuck.” Rin shook his head as he glanced shortly at him, anger dissipating in an
instant. In its stead was only an exhausted resignation filling his voice as he spoke again.
“What the actual fuck, Nanase?”
And when he finally looked up with eyes gleaming, Haruka was pretty sure Rin was on the
verge of tears. With a few blinks he tried to fight the pressure behind his own eyelids.
I would never hurt you, idiot.
How can you think something like that?
But if nothing else, Rin stopped trying to get out of the pool. He was just shaking his head
again and again, as if he couldn’t believe that something like what had just happened to him
was even possible.
You’re going to listen to me, now.
“I think I made it clear enough I’m not swimming again,” Rin muttered to Haruka’s knees
once he sat down next to him on the tile floor, legs hanging over the pool’s edge. “Which part
of it did you not understand?”
You’re not going to like it.
“Could you be so kind as to finally pull your head out of your ass, Matsuoka?”
But you need to hear this.
He watched with a painful stab to his chest as Rin’s eyes snapped up to his and widened with
shock.
“Huh?”
Haruka sighed, annoyed by the lack of right words he needed so much now. He was pretty
sure that had there been anyone else in his place now, they wouldn’t have had any problem
saying exactly what they wanted. But Haruka was just—Haruka.
And he could do only so much with his skills.
“I’m not going to repeat it, so listen carefully.” Another sigh. “I meant every word I said last
night to your father-in-law.”
Every single one of them.
“Haru.” Rin interrupted the stream of his thoughts. “About that…”
“You really are the best swimmer I’ve ever met.”
The best I’m going to meet, ever.
“The hell, Nanase.” Rin wiped his face. “You won’t let me say it, will you?”
“Shut up, Matsuoka, okay? You know how much I love conversations, so just let’s get it over
with.” The men on the bleachers seemed to be too curious about their exchange for their own
good as Haruka’s eyes traveled around the natatorium. “I didn’t show you my times for
nothing. Do you know what those notes at the end of my folder mean?” He waited until Rin
shook his head with an annoyed expression, and went on. “They mean I belong among the
ten worst swimmers on the whole team.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” Haruka nodded solemnly. “It’s true. I don’t remember when was the last time I swam
a decent time.”
“B-but…” Rin stammered, obviously shocked.
“And it’s not getting better, for some reason. As it seems… at the end of next month I’m done
here.”
Rin’s wide eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he stared up at Haruka. The man didn’t
want to believe it, that much was clear.
“So, we’re kind of in the same boat, now. Well, I don’t know your times, but you were right.
I’ve seen you swim.” A silence. “But I’ll tell you one thing, Matsuoka. I’m fed up with your
whining and crying.”
“I-I’m not…”
Haruka ran fingers through his hair in distress and sighed. “Yes, you are. And if there’s one
thing that pisses me off more than anything, it’s your self-pitying bullshit, like the one you
pushed down my throat last night.”
It was almost funny how Rin’s jaw hung agape.
Matsuoka at a loss for words, that’s a first.
“You know what? I don’t feel sorry for you. On the contrary, I think you’re an idiot.”
“Wha…?” The redness in Rin’s eyes flashed with dangerous lightning. “Fuck you, Nanase.”
I love you too.
Forever.
“Because you seem to have forgotten why we started doing all of this in the first place. And
for that you deserve everything you’re getting now.”
You still don’t get it, do you?
“And what is that supposed to be, you fucking smartass?"

Haruka was sure he could hear the screeching of Rin’s sharp teeth as he shrugged, and he
finally let his eyes return to the man.
“Fun,” he said, waiting until the angry sparkle in Rin’s eyes turned to confusion. “Of course.”
And it was true, indeed. Because yes, Haruka did care about his times. About being fast, and
good; about winning. A lot more than he thought was ever going to happen, to be honest.
And seeing himself deteriorate like this—over a few short months to add—was making him
feel all sorts of things. Like anger, and disappointment, and regret.
But that was not the reason why he wanted so desperately to swim, was it?
“Fun?”
“Yeah… fun,” Haruka said, while rising to his feet again, and reached for the backpack.
“So… I figured that since we both are not aiming for the winners’ podium anymore, we
could just as well get back to that.”
He felt his face stretch into a small smile. Pulling spare jammers and the rest of the
equipment out of the bag Haruka tossed it towards the still totally flabbergasted Rin.
“To having fun. Like when we were kids.”
It was just as good an offer of peace as any other, and when Rin tsked and smirked, Haruka
knew he finally understood. His eyes darkened suddenly, though, and his chin motioned
towards the bleachers.
“You wanna race in front of them?”
“So what?” Haruka shrugged. “It’s not like they’re going to see you again, Officer Matsuoka.
It’s me who’s going to deal with them for the rest of the month.”
And there it was: that small, tentative smile Haruka so craved to see. Not one of those
arrogant smirks, or feigned laughing, no. Just this one; a genuine, nice little stretch of lips,
coming from within.
“You know, Nanase,” Rin said teasingly, before he took off a drenched jacket and pulled his
shirt over his head. “You could’ve just as well made this little speech outside. Without this
show."
No, I couldn’t.
“Uhm.” Both of their eyes snapped to the man, who stood behind Haruka, wearing a very
amused expression. “Sorry to jump in, guys. But… are you gonna race here?”
And when Haruka’s eyes finally turned away from Hagino’s face, Rin’s mouth was curled
into an 'o' shape, hands with soaked-up jeans stopped mid-air to the wet pile at the side of the
pool.
“No.”
“Yes,” Haruka corrected. “Would you time us?”
He wasn’t sure what amused him more. If the way Hagino’s eyebrows shot up over such
audacity, or the horrifying expression Rin’s pale face turned into.
“Sure.” The tall man laughed after a while and motioned towards the bleachers with a
whistle. “Akiha, get the stopwatch.”
And while Hagino’s skinny best friend jogged away in the direction of the locker rooms,
Haruka’s hand was being unceremoniously pulled down.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Haru?” Rin hissed under his breath.
“Uh, just one question,” Hagino interrupted their one-sided dispute, chewing on something
per usual. “But I have to ask. Are you, by any chance, that Matsuoka?”
“Huh?” Rin’s eyes snapped to the man now standing beside Haruka, and he finally let go of
his wrist. Haruka straightened up, massaging the bruising skin.
“I mean, you look kind of different, but I think I know your face. The nationals last year?
Two hundred meters butterfly?” A silence filled the seconds, without any sound coming from
Rin’s gaping mouth. “So, is that you, or not?”
Akiha halted beside Hagino’s tall frame, pushed a stopwatch into his hand without a word
and jogged back to the bleachers. The Princesses laughed again over some inner joke Haruka
couldn’t hear from the distance, but their curious attention quickly turned back to the three of
them.
“Well, ye-yeah,” Rin pushed out, at last.
“That’s cool, bro,” Hagino exclaimed excitedly, and reached down with his palm open. He
waited until Rin smacked his hand, although reluctantly, and pulled him out of the pool.
At least he managed to change into the spare jammers before, Haruka thought with a chuckle.
“I’ve always wanted to talk to someone who knows his shit like you do. Man, that’s so cool
you’re here. I mean—wait. Don’t tell me you’re gonna race this one.” Hagino laughed out
loud as he pointed at Haruka. “Dammit, guys,” he yelled back to the bleachers. “This is
gonna be hilarious.”
And the man still chuckled as he patted Rin’s shoulder and shoved him in the direction of the
starter blocks with a small head shake.
“Come on, make him cry, and we’ll meet you outside for a beer.”
Haruka dared to glance at Rin’s face, and gave out a little laugh over the way man stood
unmoving, completely astonished. This was amusing in more than one way.
“So, let’s go, your highness, let’s make a good show for them.”
And his face was still stretched into a smile as their feet tapped against the cold floor, leading
them to the steps of the starter blocks. But when he looked to the side, Rin’s lips were once
again pursed into a thin line, and not even the glass of the spare goggles he was trying to fit
on his head could’ve hidden the nervousness in his red eyes.
Not this, again.
Haruka sighed, annoyed to the brim, and in one swift motion forcefully smacked the back of
Rin’s head.
“Loosen up, idiot.”
Smirking, he watched Rin yelp and grasp for the goggles that fell off his cap.
“Fuck you, Nanase,” the man exclaimed, and kicked against Haruka’s calf, missing it by a
centimeter. “Fuck. You.”
Haruka laughed, and with one well aimed shove to the muscled arm Rin swiftly lost balance
and staggered.
“You wish.”
Only when Hagino’s amused 'Hey, you two. Are you gonna swim, or what?' cut the stream of
profanities coming out of Rin’s mouth, Haruka pulled his own cap over his hair and ran up
the steps of the block with a snicker.
“Better hurry up, Matsuoka. Not that you’re going to see my heels once I’m in, but…”
I’m doing this for you.
The man huffed in feigned annoyance, too apparent how much he was enjoying himself.
“Better watch your ass, Nanase,” he said, taking his position on the starter block, muscles
flexing under the warm light. “This ain’t the Bahamas, for sure, but I have a feeling there’s
some sharks in the water.”
Haruka gulped down the laughter bursting out of his throat, and rather focused on bending his
back and legs properly. And it felt way too natural to open his mouth again, and return the
remark with an ease that was most definitely not something he was used to.
And I would do it again, anytime.
“I’m pretty sure none of them would stand a chance against a dolphin. You know what they
say about them, after all.” Pursing his lips to keep them from smiling Haruka felt his body
tensing, waiting for the sound of a whistle. “That they’re far from their public image.”
And as their bodies simultaneously moved through the cooling air right into the arms of
translucent water, illuminated by a clean, spring sun, he dared to feel it for a moment.
To let himself be submerged in the sensation of fluttering of an excited heart, of butterflies
filling his chest. Of living to the fullest.
For you, only.
Of being happy by Rin’s side for the very last time.
***
Exhilarating.
That was the only word that came to Haruka’s mind while his arms kept propelling him
forward as if it was the most natural thing ever. Matching the wild pace of his pulsing veins,
his fingers were shooting forward and pushing water back with strength he didn’t remember
ever having.
Water.
He couldn’t, didn’t even try to hold back, once his feet pushed against the pool’s wall at the
turn, and he was flying backwards like a sea bird. And he was not alone.
Rin’s toothy grin matched his own as they both turn their heads at the same time, movements
mirroring each other perfectly. It was fantastic, it was insane.
Water, please.
Help him.
It was everything he dreamt of since that last time they had shared the water in Melbourne.
This perfection of being united, connected through the most sensitive medium—as if his
body didn’t end at the tips of his toes and fingers, but rather continued fluidly into the flesh of
the man in the adjacent line.
Water!
Haruka yelled at the top of his lungs inside of his head, and a growl left Rin’s mouth as he
pushed forward an inch.
More.
And no, he was not going to let the man win easily, on the contrary. His chest ached for air as
he pushed burning muscles to the edge, clenching his teeth. Never before Haruka worked so
much to take the lead, as he did now.
Because with every joule of energy that he squeezed from his body, Rin seemed to do the
same, at the very same time. He kicked stronger—Rin stroked faster. He inhaled deeper—Rin
exhaled twice as much.
With every single move Haruka pushed the man forward, and then followed him like a
shadow.
More!
He couldn’t stop it. Didn’t even want to try. The connection was there instantly as they dived
in—a thick wire vibrating with erratically running electrons, stumbling one over another,
fighting which one would reach its destination first.
Just as it was supposed to be. Just as it used to be before.
Just as Haruka needed it.
Faster!
But now, though, as the wall was approaching with hardly imaginable speed, there was
something else. Something that he would’ve never expected to find in the water. Its taste
spread all over his tongue like a bittersweet candy as he gasped for air. It was new and it was
raw.
It was terrifyingly exciting.
It’s…
The underlying current flowing heavily from Rin’s side: a strong, unleashed energy of an
unfamiliar kind. Its beams kept shooting chaotically around Haruka, dashing from the long
body every which way.
It’s… amazing.
But whatever it was, it made Haruka’s body react automatically. Briskly transformed, it had
become the machine set to receive those signals, turning them instantaneously into goose
bumps on his skin.
It’s as if he and I were…
Light and ecstatic, it made his head spin and his heart skip more than one beat. Rich in taste
on his throat, Haruka knew he had to finally admit it as his arm shot forward for the last
stroke.
Because it was strangely, obscurely sexual in a way he would’ve never thought water could
make him feel.
And it was unfair, really. Because with every new wave of joy and, yes, pleasure coming his
way, Haruka understood that once it was gone, he’d be willing to kill to feel it again.
It’s as if he was touching me.

If asked, he wouldn’t have been able to say when exactly his hand touched the wall. Or when
Rin’s did, for that matter. He had a vague idea he lost the race, but he couldn’t care less.
Because it all had gotten lost in a whirlwind of loud, throaty laughter, the burning of his own
lungs, and a sudden jolt of pain as his neck was being unceremoniously pulled. In the shaky
way his body responded to the touch immediately, curling his fingers, and sending waves of
blood into his cheeks.
In the loud smack that landed on his lips.
And, most definitely, in the unfamiliarly dark shade of red eyes once he dared to open his
own.
He’s feeling it too.
He noticed by the last functioning parts of his brain that Rin’s mouth was moving in a
manner reminding him of words, but he couldn’t be sure. Because it was impossible to hear
anything through the pulsing of blood in his ears; to see anything clearly through the thick,
almost erotic haze clouding his sight more than the glass of his goggles.
Haruka ripped them off instantly, trying to bring at least a semblance of reality to the scene
taking place in front of him. But seeing what he saw now, it was impossible.
I…
Because Rin was laughing. Rin was grinning—that winning smile Haruka knew so well was
plastered on his face. And it was everything he ever wanted to see there.
I’d give my all to be yours right now.
The pain that hit him in the chest like a hammer was simply too much. And when a strong
arm reached for him once again and tried to pull to bring him closer, Haruka almost didn’t
make it through alive. His hand pushed against Rin’s chest, and he opened his mouth to
speak.
Don’t touch me.
“Don’t,” he pushed out breathlessly. “There’re people around.”
Agony.
He watched with a throbbing ache how the perfect red eyes turned in one short second from
overjoyed into sad. And if he wasn’t dead before, then the way the lines around those
beautiful lips softened most definitely killed him at the spot.
It’s agony.
It was impossible to expect it, so of course he didn’t see it coming when Rin’s hand, which
wasn’t curled around his neck, pulled forcefully on his wrist and effortlessly removed the
only barrier between them.
Bringing their chest flush together Rin chuckled, and a breathy, smiling voice found Haruka’s
ear.
“I called it quits this morning.”
Haruka blinked, pulling away slowly. But Rin was just smiling that sweet smile again.
“I’m single, dumbass. You wouldn’t let me tell you.”
Si-single?
And he couldn’t stand it, then. Not with his chest cut open, not when the already familiar hole
kept yelling at his dysfunctional brain. He just stared, unmoving and at a loss for words,
stunned by the only word he never expected to hear from the man’s mouth.
Single.
His mind kept repeating it, turning it into odd, sick mantra. And if anything, Haruka was sure
no one, in the whole history of human kind, had ever been so shocked by five simple letters.
Single.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there, holding onto the starter block, patiently treading
water under him. It couldn’t be very long, though, because Rin’s warm eyes turned away too
soon, snapping to the only man Haruka didn’t want to see at the moment of this utter
confusion.
“Hagino,” Hirai yelled, striding along the pool’s edge towards The Princesses. “Tell me
someone timed them.”
Single.
He’s single.
Haruka’s eyes finally followed Rin’s gaze, and only when they rested on the
uncharacteristically serious faces of his teammates, he realized how weirdly silent the
natatorium was. It was, indeed, as if someone turned the volume off with a remote control.
With quivering arms he pushed himself out of the pool, immediately followed by equally
quiet Rin. What the hell were all those weird looks supposed to mean? Cold fear ran through
his veins as the memory of Rin’s lips on his resurfaced.
From the outside it was just a friendly—even though overly-affectionate—winning kiss. Or

wasn’t it?
Truthfully, Haruka didn’t care a tiny bit, if anyone knew it about him. It was no one’s
business but his. But Rin didn’t need added pressure on him, definitely not at this moment
when his joy of swimming had been finally re-discovered.
Haruka clenched his teeth, ready to stand against anybody who’d dare to send a single stupid
comment their way.
Keep them coming, if you want to die.
But Hirai’s narrow face was back all too soon with a wary expression as he halted afar. His
eyes kept flickering between the stopwatch and both of them, and when his rough voice cut
the tense silence, Hagino next to him jolted slightly.
“Are you sure—like one hundred percent sure—that these times are correct?” Hirai asked the
tall swimmer, his nail clicking on the display of the stopwatch. Hagino nodded reluctantly
without giving them all a single look.
The rest of The Princesses slowly found their way around their little group, making a loose
circle. They seemed to be listening closely, curiously scanning Rin’s face and body. Haruka
more felt than anything else how the man straightened to his full height, bearing the scrutiny
with ease.
That’s my Rin.
“It’s better than yours at the Pan Pacific Championships, isn’t it?”
Hagino’s face fell even more when his teammates and closest friends sighed in something
akin to awe. He nodded once more and Hirai didn’t wait for anything else.
“What’s your name?” he barked at completely stunned Rin.
“Ma-Matsuoka.”
“Okay.” He narrowed his eyes. “Ma-Matsuoka, should I know you?”
Red eyes flickered nervously to Haruka’s own, and when he spoke, his voice was strangely
silent.
“I don’t think so.”
Hirai hummed, clearly mulling over something, and Rin seemed to shrink under his stare. At
last, the small man tsked and turned on his heel, darting in the direction of the stairs leading
to his office.
“Dismissed. And you two lovebirds, in my office in an hour. This time not a second later,
Nanase, understood?”
Haruka blinked, feeling the heat of Rin’s hand even through the good twenty centimeters that
separated it from his own. All of the men around seemed to be astonished just as he himself
was when he ran his eyes around the group.
All of them except for Rin, whose somber face turned away the moment he sensed Haruka’s
stare.
***
Time and time again Haruka realized that silence was his biggest enemy.
It made the softest of sounds turn into full blast explosions, startling him like a frightened
little kitten. He leaned his head against the wall behind the chair he sat on, and closed his
eyes. It’d already been fifteen minutes since the two of them arrived and, freshly showered,
fell into the chairs in front of Hirai’s office, but the man was still out of sight.
And, what was worse, Rin seemed to have returned to one of his gloomy moods again.
Haruka watched how long fingers kept pulling on the too short sleeve of his own spare
hoodie. They stopped, only to start fiddling with the loose thread a moment later. And
although the man was sitting still, his body was tense, bursting with nervous energy.
Indeed, Haruka decided, he loathed waiting.
“When’s your flight?”
“In two hours.”
He sighed, wishing to find words to say something positive and cheerful, when the sound of
hasty steps coming from behind the corner vibrated through the atoms of the corridor’s
suffocating air.
“I’m here, I’m here,” Tatano announced breathlessly, taking long steps past them, and headed
right for the door. “I’m so sorry you had to wait, boys. Let’s go, he’s waiting.”
What the hell is he doing here?
Wasn’t he supposed to be sick, or something?
The three of them entered the office, and Rin’s reluctant movements behind Haruka’s back
made him turn around to see what was taking the man so long.
“Where the hell are Nanase’s papers?” Hirai barked at a greenish Tatano, thin legs poking out
from under the door of a tall, metallic cabinet.
“I don’t know. They should be there.” The taller man’s face turned to Haruka as he motioned
towards the chairs in front of the big table. “Sit down, boys, sit down.”
No, he definitely didn’t have good memories of the conversation that had taken place in this
office not so long ago. The sound of Hirai’s sour voice filled his brain, making him lose track
of the uninteresting blabbering about the folder that now peacefully rested in his locker.
“To hell with it. Forget the papers,” Hirai exclaimed, shut the metallic door with a bang, and
wriggled finger in Rin’s direction. “Tatano-san, look at this kid. Does that face ring any
bell?”
And with rising confusion Haruka realized this was why Hirai pulled sick Tatano out of bed:
to help him sort this mystery out.
Instead of an answer Haruka’s coach just shook his head, looking slightly aghast. But that
wasn’t the oddest thing happening at the moment, no. Because Rin’s fingers curled around
the chair’s arms, knuckles turning white, and he seemed to be clenching his teeth harder than
was humanly possible.
Something was very, very wrong, and Haruka had a strong feeling he was going to find out
what it was quite soon.
“Damn, I was sure you were gonna tell me why I find him so familiar. You know every
swimmer in this country better from my mother.” The small man pouted and rested his palms
flat against the table surface. He observed them both, and Haruka was dead sure his
narrowing eyes didn’t miss how Rin was quickly turning into a bunch of nerves.
Calm down, Rin.
“We swam together at nationals, last year,” Haruka offered an explanation, trying to ease the
tension filling the room to the brim.
“Nah, I think it’s something else.”
Hirai was clearly onto something here like a dog following a track, and what was happening
in front of him was surely only confirming his suspicions.
Rin, breathe, dammit.
“It’s your name, isn’t it? Do I know your name? Tell me. Is that so?”
Rin sighed, eyes firmly glued to the front side of the table. “Sir.”
“And what’s his name again?” Tatano asked, wiping his sweaty forehead. His skin was a
solid grey colour, and there was a soft quivering in the motion of his hands. He was definitely
not fit enough to be here.
But as Hirai’s thin lips repeated one of Haruka’s most beloved words in the word, something
almost imperceptible shifted in the room’s atmosphere. Tatano cleared his throat, all of a
sudden looking very uncomfortable.
And within a short second that followed, Rin’s naturally pale face turned to ash-white.
“Uh, Hirai-san.” Tatano licked his colorless lips. “It’s… do you remember Troy’s… Troy’s
assistant?”
Rin took in a deep breath, as if bracing for what was about to come, and slowly rose to his
feet.
Rin.
“What Troy?” Hirai’s eyebrows furrowed as he, just like Haruka, was obviously not
following the track of words. But it took only a second or two for realization to hit his eyes.
“Your friend Troy? That Australian asshole Troy Martin?”
Jumping up like a mountain goat he turned towards Tatano, who was awkwardly shuffling his
feet, and exclaimed. “You’re not serious, are you?” He pointed his finger at Rin’s heaving
chest and scoffed. “Really? Is that him? This prick is the one who mangled Martin’s poor
boy?”
Wh-what?
Eyes snapping to the heavily shaking Rin, Haruka knew that the man was going to lose it.
With his hands in hard fists and a guttural growl coming from his throat, Rin turned on his
heel.
And faster than the wind, he was gone.
The door swung behind his wide back, and Haruka shot up, the need to follow too strong to
be contained. But Hirai’s next words forced him to hold on.
“Shit, Tatano, of all the things I expected to find in my pool, it wasn’t this one. Come on,” he
said cheerfully, waving at the man. “Put Martin on the phone. I have to tell him. He’s gonna
die.”
Tatano sighed tiredly, obviously not sharing the excitement. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,
Hirai-san. He’s probably busy at the moment.”
“I don’t give a damn about busy. Come on, quickly, before that Matsuoka kid runs away.”
Haruka watched, completely stunned, how Tatano’s phone traveled from one hand to another,
and then they all were waiting while the distant, deep sound of the call filled the office.
Unintelligible words on the other side of the line preceded Hirai’s dry laughter.
“Martin, you listen to me,” Hirai said in English bearing a heavy accent, still grinning from
ear to ear.
And only then the vivid memory struck his shocked brain—of the Skype conversation he
took part in not so long ago in Tatano’s office.
Troy Martin… of course.
The man on the other side of the line was obviously the one who had made him an offer to
transfer to Sydney—the head coach of the Sydney university swimming team and, as of
lately, the coach of Australia’s national team.
“Yeah, it’s Hirai, here. Shut up and listen. You’re not going to believe who was sitting in
front of me a second ago.”
Haruka listened to the small chuckle before he spoke again, and the words that came out of
his mouth didn’t make any sense at all.
“Matsuoka.” A laugh. “Yeah, exactly that Matsuoka. Your fallen star, the one that you let get
kicked out of the school. Who beat the crap out of your boy in front of the whole team and
put him in a coma. Yeah, yeah, I know. I can hardly believe it myself. I knew I’d heard his
name before, but Tatano-san had to remind me. Yeah.”
R-Rin?
Beat the crap…?
“Hell yeah. Listen, I just watched him swim the race of his life with Nanase. You wouldn’t
believ—what?”
Nothing made sense anymore. Haruka felt his head spin, and he had to grab onto the chair’s
backseat for leverage. It didn’t help at all when Tatano’s apologizing eyes rested on him, and
then turned to the carpet under his feet.
I can’t believe it.
First and foremost, the idea of Rin hurting anyone was not only completely insane, it
appeared to Haruka that it simply had to be untrue.
But the fact that this Australian coach Tatano had introduced him to—a funny, laid-back guy
—was the one personally responsible for ending Rin’s swimming career, well, that was mind-
blowingly unbelievable.
Hardly breathing, Haruka observed how Hirai’s face swiftly turned from laughing through
amused right into annoyed. Black eyes narrowed, and he seemed to grow slightly taller as he
straightened up.
“Why the hell should I kick him out too? Because you told me so?” A silence. “No. Yes. I
don’t give a fuck what you think, Martin, I ain’t your dog to do as you please. An hour ago
both the boy and Nanase broke the world record for 100 meters.”
Oh my god, Rin.
“Yes, in my pool, I saw it with my own eyes. No. Fuck, no. You know, Martin, there’s word
going around about the way you treat your swimmers and how they end up after you’re done
with them. Tatano-san tried to convince me it’s not true, but guess what? I think it’s very
likely that’s what happened to the boy.”
Another silence was filled with nothing but Hirai’s glaring.
“What? I’m not afraid of you. You go threaten someone else’s mother.”
Tatano, who up to that moment stood motionless at the wide window with a direct view of
the natatorium, suddenly sighed and motioned for Hirai to come closer. The small man
scuttled across the room with the phone still plastered against his ear and looked down
somewhere with a frown, in the direction Tatano’s forefinger was pointing.
Despite the thick haze clouding his mind Haruka managed to walk those few steps, and then
he saw it with his own eyes. A few members of The Princesses and some other people,
standing around the door leading to the communal showers, seemed to be curiously watching
a scene inside of them.
One of the swimmers jumped in shock when something surprisingly reminding Haruka of a
shower head flew his way.
“I’ve got to go, Martin, it seems there’s one future medal winner trying to demolish my
locker room. See you not.”
With that Hirai threw the phone back into startled Tatano’ hands and darted towards the door,
as if his feet were on fire. And it was only a hundredth of a second later that Haruka’s eyes
met his coach’s wide one, and then they were both running after him.
They made a beeline down the stairs, Tatano’s heaving heavily through sick lungs behind
Haruka. Hirai might have had a faster start, but his legs were shorter, and Haruka was pretty
sure his body had never moved so fast on dry land before.
But the loud banging, which sounded an awful lot like a fist hitting against metal, had already
stopped when the three of them got to the double door separating them from the locker room.
A few curious swimmers gathered around it, peeking through the small window.
Hirai strode like Napoleon right through the hurriedly scattering group and burst in the room
without a look back. But before the door swung back behind him, his commanding voice
reached an astonished Haruka’s ears.
“You wait here.”
Clutching his chest and leaning on the knees, Tatano waved off the rest of on-lookers. Both of
them were gasping for air as the man threw himself into the chair standing afar, but Haruka
couldn’t do the same.
He was, in fact, pretty sure that no one in the whole damned universe had ever wanted to be
somewhere like he needed to be inside of that locker room. Standing by Rin’s side.
Hang on in there, Rin.
Fifteen agonizing minutes later the door flew open and out walked Hirai, raking fingers
through his thick, short hair. Looking around he searched for Haruka’s face and sighed
tiredly.
“Go get him some water. I’m afraid he’s gonna collapse from dehydration.” Another sigh,
and then he muttered under his breath. “Damn, I swear I’ve never seen someone shed so
many tears before.”
Haruka was sure he was back with a dewy bottle from the school’s automat in less than thirty
seconds, which was quite possible according to the way Hirai’s face turned into amused once
he jogged from behind the corner. The man was standing outside, obviously waiting for him,
passing the time by talking to the still dangerously grey Tatano.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, and Haruka followed him into the locker room with a crazily beating
heart.
And there he was: paler than ever before, with puffy, red-rimmed eyes and bleeding knuckles.
Smiling.
Haruka’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight, realizing once more how completely lost he
was when it came to that little, dazzling move of Rin’s lips.
I love you.
And it was the only thought his confused brain was able to come up with, despite knowing
that Hirai could easily notice how stupidly he was staring, and how delicately pale cheeks
were gaining back colour under his gaze.
I love you so much.
“So.” Hirai cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’ve already told Matsuoka everything.
Nanase, you should know we’ve made a deal. It goes like this: Matsuoka goes home now to
set things straight, and gets back as soon as possible. And, if the two of you manage to have
at least similar results as you had today in upcoming qualification tests, I swear I’ll do
anything to get you both to Qatar. And I don’t care if I have to sell my liver for that. I’m
gonna personally prepare a training regime for both of you, and you.” He pointed towards
Haruka’s chest. “You are gonna make sure Matsuoka adheres to the letter, no excuses that
he’s on the other side of the sea. If this goes wrong, I’ll be on your damned neck for it.
Understood?”
Hah.
Haruka nodded, his eyes resting once again on Rin’s figure, now slumped on the bench with
head between his knees. And he had a strange feeling it was more in an effort to cover the
smile than anything else.
With a last sigh and muttered 'morons' Hirai walked past them both, patting Haruka’s
shoulder.
“I’ve always known it was in there. Good job, kid.”
And suddenly there was no one but him and Rin in the whole, utterly empty room.
I…
Haruka lowered his head, not knowing what to expect now, when everything was said and
done. How to wrap up everything that had happened since the moment he saw Rin standing
on the other side of the street in front of that fancy restaurant.
How to say good-bye, and not break into a hundred pieces.
The soft murmur of a distant conversation was coming in through the door leading to the
showers and further to the natatorium. It somehow helped to ease his mind, preparing it for
the moment red eyes would be back on him.
And when they were, at last, all smiling and nothing but gentle, he reciprocated. How could
he not, when the only man he’d ever loved had his dream back in his hands. And not that he
fully understood what was going on, too many pieces of this puzzle were still missing, but it
somehow didn’t matter.
What mattered, though, was the subtle, yet noticeable pain flickering around Rin’s lips.
Haruka felt himself quivering slightly as he made his way towards the bench, and sat down
next to him. His elbow found its way against his ribcage and nudged ever so softly, but all
that he got in response was another sad smile.
“So… Matsuoka’s back in the game, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Please, Rin, just tell me already.
A thin ray of sun made its way through the quickly opened and closed door as someone
entered the showers, drawing a yellow line on the blue linoleum and hitting Haruka’s eyes. It
disappeared just as fast, leaving colorful stains on his retinas.
“You don’t seem too happy, though,” he said, blinking the pain behind eyelids away.
When are you finally going to understand?
A sigh.
“I am, Haru, I just—” And there they were again—tears running down the pale cheeks,
although the man was trying his best to stop them, forcefully pushing the heels of his palms
against his eyes. Haruka watched the man shake his head and curl into himself, obviously
annoyed to the brim by this innate inability to contain the stream of emotions.
And he didn’t do anything at all to stop it. Because, for once, those tears weren’t the ones of
destruction; not like his own had been this very morning. This time, they were cleaning.
Healing the wounds of the person that thought he’d lost all of his dreams, and suddenly had
them given back.
At the moment when everything seemed to be doomed.
I’m here for you.

Rin breathed in deeply, at last, and wiped his face with the sleeve of Haruka’s hoodie.
“That… that was the fucking best, most amazing race of my life, Haru. And all of this after…
that’s even better, if that’s even possible. But…” Another inhale. “But nothing’s gonna
change what I did. Nothing at all.”
Haruka’s hand shot up and he knew he had exactly no power against it when his fingers
curled around the strong shoulder and squeezed.
“You mean the boy? Martin’s assistant, or something like that?”
I’ve always been.
Rin’s eyes snapped up to meet his and Haruka’s heart broke once again at the sight of that
incredible pain. And he let it happen, didn’t put any fight at all when Rin’s hand pulled on his
own, still resting on his shoulder, and brought it down into his lap. No, he didn’t say a word
even when long fingers interlaced with his own.
Because Rin needed to hold onto something, just as Haruka did last night. And it somehow
didn’t matter that he himself was barely breathing, balancing on the verge of his own tears
right now, because it hurt so fucking much being touched like this.
Gently, lovingly.
And I always will be.
“It was one of those shitty days, you know them, when everything pisses you off,” Rin said,
and it seemed that once the truth started to come out, it was beyond his power to stop it until
everything would be said. “He’s an irritating asshole, that kind that gets on your nerves even
on the best, sunny afternoons. So he was being a prick, once again—nothing out of ordinary
—instead of doing his job—which was, by the way, being Martin’s ass-kisser. But that day
I…” Rin paused, as if regaining his courage.
Haruka squeezed his hand and held strongly, until the stream of words continued.
“That day at training I ended second-to-last, again. It’s like… I don’t know why… but every
single fucking time I set foot on that continent I seem to hit a wall. I was a good-for-nothing
on Martin’s team, Haru, and after that shit happened it had gotten even worse. Anyway…”
He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “That day I snapped. I didn’t want it to happen,
trust me. But one stupid comment from the asshole’s mouth was all it took, and suddenly he
was lying on the floor, blood everywhere…”
Baby.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to forget how the pool’s water mixed with his blood,” Rin
whispered, and Haruka felt through his hand how his body was shaking in a violent rhythm
that matched his own. “It was bad luck, really, how his head seemed to fall exactly in the
right angle against the pool’s edge. It was one of those things you wouldn’t expect to happen,
but they do, anyway.”
I love you.
With the fingers of his free hand Haruka started to draw little circles on the back of Rin’s
hand, caressing fresh wounds on his knuckles, understanding for the first time in his life that
sometimes you had to bleed, in order to start healing.
And he had to do something, to say anything at all, because the man had gotten lost in his
own world again, not allowing Haruka to follow. So he dared to ask, although Hirai had sort-
of given him an answer up in his office.
“How is he now?”
Rin sniffled. “He was in a coma for a week, but, fortunately, then he woke up.” But as he
looked up, Haruka was sure something was going to follow.
And he was right.
“But he’s in a wheelchair, Haru. I put the man in a fucking wheelchair. And it all happened
because I can’t fucking swim a decent time to save my life.”
When Rin sobbed again, and his head fell against Haruka’s chest, he let him. There was
nothing else to do other than curl his arms around the wide back and hold strongly. And then,
as inevitable as it was from the moment Haruka entered this room, he was crying too—tears
of pain for this man, just as well as for himself.
I love you so fucking much.
He was swaying them both, his cheek against the firm shoulder, not giving a damn if
someone entered the locker room and saw them like that. They could think whatever they
wanted. The two of them were together now—genuinely, really together for the first time in
ages. At last, they were not playing any games; all pretenses were being broken down like the
weak walls that up to this moment separated them.
But no one came and roused their shared moment. And before long, even this river had dried
up. And when Rin finally stopped shaking and extricated himself from Haruka’s embrace,
everything was different.
Inexplicably, permanently different.
Haruka nudged the man again with a small smile, and Rin gave out a little hoarse laugh,
before wiping his nose with the back of his hand. And eventually he spoke again.
“Why is it that anytime we are together someone cries?”
I really love you.
“Yeah,” Haruka said with a teasing smile and shrugged. “We’re pussies.”
The offended expression on Rin’s face was worth the world.

“Fuck you, Nanase.” And when Haruka couldn’t help but laugh upon meeting red eyes, Rin
smirked. “I could punch you just for that look in your eyes now.”
“You mean my damned, perfect eyes?”
And then an explosion of rich laughter shook the walls of metal lockers, Haruka’s world, and
the universe filled by dreams he used to dream with this man in the leading role. Ones in
which he could make him laugh like this each and every day of their lives.
And he kept his lips smiling, even when Rin’s suddenly weren’t.
Even when their faces were way too close, and gentle fingertips reached for his cheek.
More than anything.
And as he leaned away just in time, and faced the disappointment and pain mirroring his
own, it was okay. Because he finally understood something important: that, from now on, it
was supposed to be like this—he and this man together, but never crossing that line again.
“So it’s true, after all,” Rin pushed out, voice thick with all sorts of emotions. “That you’re
with him.”
Haruka sighed and closed his eyes.
“I’m not with anyone.”
I always will.
“So it’s me, isn’t it?” A silence. “I screwed it all up for good, didn’t I?”
Haruka looked to the side, not knowing what to say or do. There seemed to be no answer to
those questions, no matter how hard he tried to find them. But as their eyes met again, he felt
his chest aching less. The blearing wound was being closed up slowly—it was still there, still
demanding his attention. But the pain was manageable, allowing him to breathe.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t feel for the man, on the contrary. He was pretty sure this feeling could
not grow anymore; that it had finally crossed any barriers between 'being in love' and 'really
loving someone', and now he was finally certain that he was never going to love anybody like
he loved this person.
But it wasn’t all that important, all of a sudden.
Because if he learned something over the last few days of this hellish week, it was that they
weren’t ready for this—whatever it was. Neither Rin, nor him knew what to do with it, or
how to keep it alive.
It was burning, and it was unsteady. Way too fickle for them to hold onto. It was dragging
them both through the darkest places, never letting them break the surface and breathe. And
there was a possibility it was going to stay like that forever—that they were bound to never
find out how to turn the bonfire into a small, gentle flame, that would be flickering for years.
And Haruka loved Rin too much to let them both burn to ashes.
As his mind ran to the amazing, funny moments before today’s race, he finally understood
what they were in the first place: friends. So maybe that was the answer, after all: that what
they needed was to stay being close, loving each other in this simple, uncomplicated way.
“I’d rather like to hear where you have been all night, you moron.” Haruka sighed, and poked
Rin’s slumped shoulder.
“Here and there,” the man muttered, too sad for Haruka to stand it. “Mostly walking around
the streets. Thinking.”
“Smoking.”
Rin shrugged, ignoring the teasing smile sent his way.
“Come on,” Haruka whispered into silence. “You’ve got a flight to catch.”
Nothing happened for a solid while, but then Rin pinched his lips and stood up, silent and
obviously completely exhausted. His hand weakly patted Haruka’s shoulder before he turned
away and, without a word, headed for the door behind his back.
But he couldn’t, didn’t want to let him go like this, thinking that he wasn’t important. Rin had
to be assured that, despite this protecting space that Haruka had to place between them, he
was still the one he loved.
“Make sure you eat properly over there, Matsuoka,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re half
of what you used to be.”
Of course it wasn’t true, and they both knew it the moment it left his mouth. But it served its
purpose, and as the hasty steps behind his back brought the man closer again for the last time,
he knew Rin understood.
Because there was a soft, almost imperceptible kiss placed on the top of his head, and then
only a few words—a warm and thrilling promise.
“I’ll be back soon.”
And it was only when he was alone again—for the first time since this morning—that Haruka
sighed and closed his eyes, finally calm.
Every single word of this day—what, of this week—was said, every single thing was done. It
was the end.
Or so he thought, until the memory of Rin’s still wet clothes, deposited for the time being in
his locker, resurfaced. Haruka moaned, rising to his feet.
His backpack was there, just as his wallet was, and he simply had to think about the
photograph resting at the bottom of Yamazaki’s trash bin. It felt like it had happened two
weeks ago, not this very morning.
“Nanase?”
Haruka’s face snapped towards the tall, frowning man, standing behind him and with a
resigned sigh turned back to the locker. Pulling money out of the wallet, he pushed it into
Hagino’s waiting palm.
But instead of the nod and quick exit that Haruka anticipated, the man just kept standing
there, as if he turned into a statue.
“That’s not enough.”
What?
It’s half of what’s in my account, idiot.
“It’s exactly how we agreed,” Haruka said through gritted teeth and started gathering his
things. But the man didn’t seem to be content with the answer, grabbing onto his shoulder.
“The hell it is. I don’t remember anyone telling me you were gonna bring another Michael
Phelps onto my team,” Hagino spat, his eyes burning with anger. “It’s one thing to help your
friend, boost his confidence a little and the like, but it’s something else to drag Hirai into it.”
You weren’t doing it for free, moron.
“Hirai wasn’t planned. I can’t predict everything.”
Haruka ripped his hand out of the grasp and closed the locker door with a loud bang.
“You owe me much more than this,” Hagino said, pushing the yen into his back pocket. “And
you’re gonna pay your dues when the time comes.”
I don’t owe you anything!
“You dropped something, by the way.”
The man pointed towards a folded piece of paper on the ground and with a nod and a
dangerous sparkle in his eyes, he was gone.
Haruka shook his head, and with an annoyed huff picked up the thing off the ground. A
strong jolt of his heart followed the thought that Rin might have put it into his locker while he
was alone in here.
A good-bye message?
But as he unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned the contents, the world, which was finally
starting to make sense, was back to its previous state of utter chaos.
It bore only two short sentences and a word, written in hasty, almost illegible handwriting.
'Tell your mom to stop searching for me. They know. Dad.'
Chapter End Notes
Well guys, it seems we’ve reached the end of the first part of the story! Yay!!
I think it’s safe to say it was one hell of a week for Haru. Now he’s finally going to get
that desperately needed rest, before (how one of the commenter had put it) the shitstorm
starts all over again. ;)
A little summary can’t hurt at this point, so...so far we’ve had a few embraces, even
fewer kisses, and one wet dream/nightmare, which wasn’t even that wet after all, haha.
Someone might say it’s pretty sad for a story with supposedly mature content. I
sincerely hope you’re not too disappointed by such development. After all, it’s not the
end of all days. ;))
Anyway, hopefully you’re not already bored by the storyline, and you’re interested
enough to read next chapters once I’m back with an update, even though it’s not going
to be anytime soon. I honestly hope that putting one finally single Rin, one heartbroken
Haru, enamoured Sousuke, bitch ex-girlfriend, and the whole bunch of side characters
together makes for a good fun. ;)
Like I said, now I’m going to fall silent for some time, because I need to focus on other
things. But I genuinely want to get back to this story as soon as possible, since I can’t
imagine living outside of Haru’s world for too long (I have no idea what I’m going to do
once this story is all over...).
Anyway, I figured I really needed to do something for you – as an apology – for making
you wait so long. Therefore, on the occasion of Haru’s birthday, which is supposed to be
on June 30th, if I’m correct, I would update with a special chapter. In it I would rewrite
a selected scene from the story from the other character’s point of view.
I’m saying ’would’, because I don’t know if you’d be even interested in reading
something like that. The selection of the scene and the character would be naturally
yours. It’s not like I’ve ever written anything on demand, but I guess I can make an
exception for you, because you’re such sweethearts to me all the time. And I’m telling
you now, because I really don’t know if I’m going to come with new update before
Haru’s birthday, and I need some time for writing both – next chapter and this special
one.
So, please let me know if you want me to do it, and your selection as well; either in
comments or e-mails - it’s up to you. ;)
Well, I think everything’s been said already, except for thanking Mr. Murakami for
writing an amazing short story I mentioned in this chapter. It’s called Super-Frog Saves
Tokyo, you can find it in his book After The Quake, and it’s really worth reading.
Thank you all again, and take care!!

Chapter 10
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
Sooooooo, I’m finally back! It’s really unbelievable it’s been so many months already.
I’m honestly feeling nostalgic. :)
Anyway, let’s get down to work. The second part is going to be just as long as the first
one, maybe even longer. So be patient with the storyline, everything has its precise
timing and reason.
With all my heart I hope you’ll like the second part at least as much as you did the
previous one; I’m going to do everything I can to bring you the best I can.
And you’re probably going to see that we’re starting off surprisingly light heartily,
which is definitely not my style, haha. All I can say is – enjoy while it lasts. ;))
I’m working hard on the following chapters anytime I can, so I beg your pardon if it
takes me a while to respond to your comments. But I most definitely will, and I’m
already eager to read anything you have to say. Just like I always do. :))
In case you didn’t notice the whole fic is now edited, and it’s all thanks to the most
precious marbled_maven. Like really, I can’t even explain how amazing, sweet and
pleasant to work with this person is. Let’s just build her an altar, or something. ;)
So, guys, thanks for coming back to this story. Now sit back, relax, and let me take you
for another ride. ;))
Enjoy!
Sleep never came easily to him.
As a young boy, lying alone within the depths of a big old house, it probably wasn’t anything
strange, or out-of-ordinary. His grandmother was always there, though, and old wood
squeaked reassuringly every time she turned in her bed, effectively lulling Haruka into
slumber.
But three nights after Rin had left the country for the first time, Haruka had lain sleepless,
staring at the white nothingness of his cracked ceiling. On the third morning his mother
called, pretending to care about what the principal had told her about her son’s unfocusedness
and weird behaviour in school. She said this and that over the phone as he stood there with
the handle in his sweaty, shaking palm.
But it all had become an indistinct memory over time. As if he was told about that
conversation rather than taking part in it.
Many days after felt that way, too.
The second time it was very much the same. Only he spent his nights wandering around the
silent house, remembering against his will how strange and warm Rin’s wrist felt in his own
hand after he had found courage to grab it in the deserted swim-club corridor. How stupidly it
hurt seeing that dumb, stubborn boy cry down on his knees.
Maybe that was the first time a suspicion had crept in that he might not be the same as
Makoto and other boys in the school.
On the fifth sleepless night, just as he had lain down on his bed, the decision to never swim
competitively again had been born. And, finally, he dropped into deep sleep right away.
The third time Rin had left Haruka had already known what to expect—after all, he wasn’t a
kid anymore. That night he had stopped by at the local konbini, bought their year’s supply of
pencils and erasers, all the while trying to ignore the weird looks and wondering head-shakes
of an aged staff.
Four days later he had pushed results of those nights into the trash bin, praying hopelessly to
get a grip. And to finally fall asleep.
That time, though, to no effect.
Now, now, it wasn’t any different. For the sake of god Haruka couldn’t understand why his
brain always ran the wildest when lights went down, pushing him into the weirdest places
between dreams and reality. Places that felt like hell embodied, but always with a slightest
tint of heaven.
Places like dark underground with madly flashing lights; the cold tile floor of an almost
empty natatorium; a moon-lit room with a ticking sound filling his senses. Places that looked
foreign to him once he put them down on paper, for some reason unable to get the pictures
right with pencils only—as if the colours weren’t the only thing they lacked.
Places where he wasn’t sure if the feeling of lips against his own was just a product of his
imagination, or an incessant memory, unwilling to let go.
And each time he forced to open his eyes and the feeling still lingered, Haruka thought with
wonder and, yeah, embarrassment, how the lips of a man could be so soft. He had never
kissed a girl, but that’s where he would have expected to find that kind of sensation.
Not on the face of a strong, powerful man.
Even now, sitting in a packed subway car with Nagisa’s small frame pushed to his side, he
could do little against the urge to run his fingers over his own mouth. It didn’t make the
feeling disappear, but it did earn a funny look from Nagisa’s ever-observing eyes.
Haruka sighed, pushing himself even further into the car’s wall, and forced his disobeying
hand under the backpack resting on his knees. Forcing his eyes shut he listened to the
whistling sound coming out of Nagisa’s right nostril and the soft murmur of the car,
effortlessly galloping over the steel rails. Someone laughed way too close for his liking, and
Haruka couldn't fight off a disgusted sigh when his or her breath touched the back of his
neck.
It was on the sixth night that he admitted to himself he couldn’t sleep because he was
waiting. Expecting that silent beeping of incoming e-mails, which never came at the same
time during the night—not even every night—but they always came, eventually. Maybe he
just missed the pattern, and maybe there really wasn’t any.
And Haruka told himself it was quite a heroic attempt to keep his phone on the coffee table
every night before he went to bed, instead of sleeping with it like a total dumbass. But on the
eighth night that he had failed to turn the volume off, and Nagisa’s pillow ended on his head
with an irritated 'Haru-chan, I swear I’m going to throw it out the window', it was time to say
it out loud.
He was not over it.
“Haru-chan, I’m bored. Talk to me, or something.”
Haruka’s eyes travelled slowly to his right, meeting puffed Nagisa’s face. Now, more than a
dozen nights after he had seen Rin last, the warm reddish light of a late afternoon flooded the
car’s room as it emerged over the city’s rooftops. He blinked a few times, still imprisoned in
the sleepwalking state of mind he found himself most of the time lately. Even when Nagisa’s
voice cut through the noise again, he wasn’t able to put his lips into motion.
“Oh, come on, Rei-chan. At least you say something. I’m gonna diiiie here.”
“I can’t breathe.” Breathless words of squeezed Rei came from above their heads and Haruka
watched, startled by the sudden movement, how Nagisa jumped up and tried to push his
small body on his lap.
“Come on, Rei-chan, sit down. I can sit on Haru-chan’s knees.”
“No, you can’t.” Haruka breathed out simultaneously with their tall friend, both more
shocked than annoyed. It was a joined effort, but thankfully Rei’s hand gripping on a slim
arm and his own pushing made Nagisa’s ass sit back down. The pink-eyed boy leaned against
the backseat, hands folded on his chest with an affronted expression.
“Oh, you’re both so stiff.” A sigh. “Anyway, why is the subway to the airport always so
full?”
“Maybe if we headed off a little bit earlier, we could have picked an emptier car,” Rei said,
and Haruka couldn’t fight a feeling that the comment went more to him than to Nagisa.
“Pft, not my fault.”
Haruka stubbornly ignored the insinuation hidden in the exchange. It wasn’t his fault
everything took him so long now. He had been spending his days in a familiar dream-like
state again, slow and safe, sheltered from reality by dullness and boredom.
Why were they trying to rip him out of it—now of all times—when waking up was way too
dangerous?
It would bring back all sorts of things he so didn’t want to think of. That he didn’t want to
deal with.
Like, for instance, how the hell was he supposed to stand there and look into Rin’s face after
everything that had happened between the two of them. After everything that had been said—
or hadn’t been said—while Rin was away.
But it seemed to be too late anyway.
Rin.
Even the simple sound of that name made all sorts of things rise up from his gut and clutch
onto his ribcage. Rousing the feigned calmness his mind had swam in up until this moment.
The prickling pressure made him look away from the window and dig into the pocket of his
jeans. With a sigh that was equally tired as it was irritated Haruka let his eyes run over the
display, and for the time being ignored the itch of his hands, dying to reach for the notebook
hidden in the backpack.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t know exactly what to do once he stood there face to face with
him. He had already set up a bunch of rules; a guideline that would lead his movements and
words, until he got over it safe and sound—a silver line of the weirdest kind, yes, but still
better then none.
Don’t look at him for too long.
Don’t get carried away if he smiles.
He ran over the sentences again and again, trying to memorize them by heart. He had to.
Otherwise there was a very high possibility he was going to do the first thing that came to his
stupid mind. Which, Haruka was pretty sure, would certainly be something very unfortunate
and embarrassing.
Don’t touch him.
Don’t let him touch you.
Something like standing there like an idiot, not answering any questions coming his way. Or
running away. Throwing up his whole lunch right there in front of everyone.
Or jumping right into Rin’s arms.

June 1, 2014, 04:36
Hey Haru,
How’re you doing? We just got back to our place. Believe it or not the first thing Jane did
was puke in the bathroom :D Would you believe that a grown-up can be so scared of flying?
Okay, I have to make this quick, she’s gonna murder me if she sees this :D
I’m gonna go for a run now. See, I’m not slacking off, like I’m sure you thought I would ;)
P.S. I had some time on the plane, so I’ve put down a work-out regime to start me up. Can
you go through it? You know how to open an attached file, don’t you?
------------------------------------------------
June 1, 2014, 04:52
Rin,
Seriously, 30 clap push-ups? 50 pulls-up? A child would do better.
Make her peppermint tea.
How was your flight?
Haru
------------------------------------------------
June 1, 2014, 05:05

Nanase, you piss me off so much, are you aware of it? :)
Where the hell am I gonna get peppermint tea at five in the morning??
Long, and boring. Good for lotsa thinking.
------------------------------------------------
June 1, 2014, 05:12
I am.
In a shop?
About what?
------------------------------------------------
June 1, 2014, 05:35
This ain’t Tokyo, smartass ;)
The question’s rather about who
I’m off. Talk to you later, Haru-chan
------------------------------------------------
June 5, 2014, 05:12
Rin,
I’m sending you Hirai’s training and diet plan. He says you should tell us if it’s too much for
you. I told him you won’t last two days, but he insisted.
I didn’t get anything from you for a while. Is everything alright?
------------------------------------------------
June 6, 2014, 22:04
Haru, I swear, if you did I’ll make you pay for it once I get you in my hands. Painfully. That’s
a promise.
Yeah, all is fine. Kind of. But I went to see Jared - you know, THE guy. He hasn’t pushed his
nose through the door of his room once. But I gathered from what his mom said he’s not
doing good. She said he has to go through these therapy sessions, which are painful as fuck,
and he doesn’t speak the whole day to anyone after them. Haru, I swear, I don’t know what
more to do. And I don’t even have money to help them somehow. It’s all so fucked up.
Sorry to bother you with it. Just forget it. Thanks for the plan, btw.
How are you doing? You alright?
PS: I went to the uni yesterday, cancelled the application :))) feels sort of like a freedom :)
PS 2: Can I tell u something?
------------------------------------------------
June 6, 2014, 22:37
Threats don’t work on me, Rin-Rin.
Just keep visiting him. He’ll come around.
I’m fine. Nagisa’s getting on my nerves, though. Like always.
When are you getting back?
Yes?
------------------------------------------------
June 8, 2014, 03:14
Nanase, to hell with it! Are you messing with me, or what? Did u, or did u not tell Hirai that
shit?!
I do visit him, dumbass. Everyday. But it’s hopeless.
I don’t know yet, it depends. I’m supposed to get back before 20th when the tests start, right?
Does that mean you’re missing me, Haru-chan? :)
------------------------------------------------
June 8, 2014, 03:25
Do you think I did?
Keep bothering him. You’re good at it, after all.
I just want to know. Depends on what?
You forgot you wanted to say something.
------------------------------------------------
June 9, 2014, 05:14
Maybe it depends on your answer to my question
I didn’t forget. I just don’t know if you want me to say it.

------------------------------------------------
June 9, 2014, 05:26
So when are you arriving?
Then don’t say it.
“Haru-chan, don’t be nervous.”
Haruka blinked, trying to decipher the meaning behind Nagisa’s knowing smile. Strips of
warm yellow light danced over the boy’s face as he leaned closer and winked cheerfully.
“I’m not,” Haruka said, hoping to keep his voice steady enough.
But it was futile, anyway. Because, of course, Nagisa knew. And Makoto knew, and Rei
knew. And probably everyone noticed he’s been acting like a complete idiot all day long.
Hell, even his ever-caring mother commented this morning when the whole pot of freshly
cooked rice ended splashed on the kitchen floor like a white surreal avalanche.
At least it looked like Makoto had placed Nagisa under a ban on any form of mocking for the
time being, because even the cheerful boy kept silent while all of them were eating mackerel
instead. But how the hell was he supposed to act normal, when it was happening all over
again? When Rin was being, well, Rin?
When Haruka was, once again, the only one not knowing anything?
He had thought of a hundred and one probable reasons for the persistent silence that followed
after the last e-mail that he had sent to Rin. Like that he shouldn’t have teased Rin that much.
That he, maybe, should’ve teased him more to keep his interest piqued more.
Like that Rin didn’t like his reply so much he backed down.
Like that it was all happening all over again, just as before. The two of them drifting apart
until there was nothing.
Maybe he should have let him say it, after all—whatever it was. Maybe he shouldn’t have
been such a damned coward.
But it was on the tenth night when he had understood why sketches in his notebook never
showed anything beyond the beautifully lit garden, encircling mansion standing gracefully up
on the hill. Why was it that his fingers refused to go any further, putting all those memories
on paper. Because, yes, Anna’s father’s mansion was indeed meant to provide for the most
beautiful scenes—with its perfect lighting, spotless shiny appearance, stunningly dressed
crowd within.
Only drawing anything of it was impossible.
The realization hadn’t hit him like a train, suddenly and in an instant. It was a rather slow
process, but when he hastily tapped that last e-mail and clicked the ’send’ button, it had
finally become a little clearer.
That it was all for the very same reason he couldn’t have let Rin do what he had wanted to in
the empty locker room that day he left last time.
So what?
So what if he was scared shit?
Of what was about to come now that Rin would be back. Of what was going to happen once
Rin tried to touch him again. Of what would happen if he didn’t.
Of what would become of him if Rin never came back, after all.
Of fucking everything.
And maybe it all wouldn’t be that difficult, if that dumb idiot hadn’t left him in the dark
again. Or maybe if he, at least, did it properly, and just hadn’t sent those text messages last
night. Haruka pushed his forehead against the cool window pane. He didn’t have to see those
words again to remember. Their contents were etched on the back of his retinas by now. He
wondered after how many rounds of reading he had finally earned the title of 'the biggest
looser on the planet'.
Matsuoka Rin :
[U sleepin? 04:42 ]
[Apparently. 04:48 ]
[ Dammit, Nanase. 04:50 ]
[ You really arekilling me 04:51 ]
[Are you drunk? 04:59 ]
[ That all u wanna know? Nothing more? 05:05 ]

[ A few friensd were holding a party for me 05:08 ]
[You should go home and sleep it off. 05:11 ]
[ I am going home, mummy. ’m sitting on a bus 05:13 ]
[Alright. 05:15 ]
[ Haru 05:20 ]
[ U don’t wanna know but 05:20 ]
[ I’ll go ahead and say it anyway 05:21 ]
[ There. I said it I’m so brave. 05:36 ]
[You didn’t say anything, idiot. Are you home yet? 05:38 ]
[Are you home, Matsuoka? 05:45 ]
[ yup. sleepin alrady 05:47 ]
[Good night. 05:53 ]
[Haru watches over me :) feels nice 05:57 ]
[Will Nanase wait for me at the airport tmr? 06:01 ]
[What? 06:10 ]
[Matsuoka, damn you. 06:25 ]
[Shit. Sorry, Haru. I fell asleep. Obviously I can’t keep anything from u :)) 12:47 ]
[It was supposed to be a surprise. See u today ;) 12:49 ]
To say that Nagisa hadn’t been too excited about being woken up before six in the morning
was quite an understatement. But he might have been glad it was just a pillow that ended in
his face, albeit a bit forcefully. Friend or not, Haruka honestly thought that this little pest had
already finished with secrets and games.
No hope, apparently.
The subway car hissed contently as the three of them stepped out of it onto the platform. How
much time did he have until they stood face to face? Asking Nagisa would certainly get him
an answer, but that was out of question. He was glad he was able to look at that boy without
curling fingers around his neck.
Looking up at the bone-shaking sound of engines’ roaring above their heads Haruka fought
the need to wipe the sweat from his face. Why the hell was it always so hard to control his
body when it came down to moments like this? A plane crossed reddish sky so low it felt as
if it was going to land right on the crowd.
Was Rin in there?
“Haruka-senpai, we should go,” Rei said over the noise of the station and pointed towards
Nagisa’s quickly distancing blond head. “We’re already late.”
And he’d gladly obey, if only his legs didn’t think otherwise. Breathing shakily, Haruka tried
to rip his glued shoes off the platform.
But, damn, those two weeks were not enough, not in the least, to think everything through
properly. To go over what had happened during the short time of Rin’s last visit—the hundred
times he did so still appeared too little. No, he still didn’t have an answer to what it all meant.
Because, yeah, something like 'single' might have been said that day in the natatorium, but
what kind of consequences were hidden in that simple word for the two of them? And was it
still true, anyway? Who knew what had happened during all that time that Rin was out there.
Alone with her.
“Haruka-senpai! Hurry up.”
New crowd burst from another car behind his back, forcing him to take a step forward in the
direction of the station’s exit and towards the stairs. Why was there no strength in his jelly-
like legs, all of a sudden?
And why, damn, everything around seemed to be instantly so full of colours? Haruka’s
fingers curled painfully around his backpack’s strap as his eyes met Rei’s waving figure at
the top of the stairs. Yeah, it must have been nothing else but his own brain, flooded by
adrenaline, that was making everything look so different. How else could such a change
happen in the span of a few seconds since he left the subway door?
And, yeah, he could feel that already familiar fear swirling at the back of his body—twisting
painfully along his spine, crushing fragile vertebrae in a vice grip.
But then, once again, someone spilled cans of colours all over the things and people around.
On a tall girl’s vividly red lipstick; yellow oranges on the flickering lit-up juice advertisement
that hung on the dirty wall; even the grey of the concrete station’s floor seemed somehow
richer all of a sudden. They hit his mind like bullets, kicking stubbornly sleeping heart into
action.
A tall boy’s violet sweater burned his retinas as his shoulder met Haruka’s own forcefully,
making him fight for balance. As the boy yelled his apology over the shoulder, Haruka
blinked in confusion, an awakening finally kicking in.
And it wasn’t just the feeling that everything felt weirdly, unusually real which shocked him
so much as he rushed up the stairs after his friends with a wildly beating heart.
It was the realization that this kind of world wasn’t actually new to him.
He knew it well enough—had had the taste of it numerous times before—every time Rin had
fallen into his world before. When he finally reached the main hall and broke into a mad
spurt in the direction of Nagisa’s blond curls, Haruka knew that e-mails weren’t the only
thing he was waiting for all that time during long night hours.
He’s here.
It was blood rushing through his veins. It was the way his mind unfolded fractured light on
the metallic railings, tables, and trash bins he passed on his way. It was vertigo that wasn’t at
all caused by the view below the balcony he ran over like a mad man.
It was the beautiful craziness that only one person in the whole wide world could bring into
his life.
He could almost feel it in the very tips of his fingers and madly contracting lung muscles. On
suddenly strangely tingling lips.
He’s really here.
The figures of his friends were getting smaller with every second, but it was easy to spot
them among the colourfully dressed people now that his senses were alive again. Haruka felt
the strangest kind of strength in his legs again as he tried to weave through the thick crowd
moving slowly towards the 'Arrivals' hall.
One more stairs; the last never-ending corridor.
And he was hardly breathing when his feet halted next to equally heaving Nagisa and Rei
under the giant sign hanging above their heads.
“We’re late,” Rei muttered, leaning on his knees.
“No, look.” Nagisa pointed at the sign with a shaking finger, pushing his other hand to his
chest. “The gate’s just about to be opened.”
They were hardly the only ones waiting for the wide metallic door to slide to the side. A
group of bodies blocked his view, and Haruka fought the need to stand on his toes. The
bright, red light of an early evening drew lines through the airport’s hall as he tried to recall
the rules that were supposed to get him through the day.
Come on.
How did they go?
Haruka raised his face to the glass wall and swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in
his throat. But there was nothing but an empty brain, unable to focus on anything else but
dust particles floating in the light beams, glittering in the air in front of his eyes.
And maybe it was for the better that he didn’t have time for thinking. That where in one
moment was nothing but whispering of an impatient crowd, in another one the gate was
opened.
Out flooded the smiling passengers of Rin’s flight, looking out for someone waiting for them.
And Haruka thought he must have certainly forgotten how breathing worked. Because even
when Nagisa’s voice overshot the deafening beating in his ears, everything he was able to do
was stare onward like a statue.
“Come here, Haru-chan.” Nagisa’s face was way too serious when his hand rested on
Haruka’s forearm and turned him quickly, yet gently around. But a warm, small smile spilled
all over it once his fingers ran expertly through Haruka’s hair and then quickly smoothed the
collar of his sweaty shirt. “There. That’s better.”
He honestly wasn’t sure why he didn’t feel an ounce of annoyance upon the ministration. The
short man was bouncing on his legs, bursting with energy between Haruka’s and Rei’s tall
frames in a rhythm reflecting his own pulse. Maybe it was gratefulness he was not in this all
alone.
Maybe he just wanted to look good for Rin—stupid as it might be.
And all of a sudden, he was there.
Loaded with heavy bags all over, bent under their fine weight. Looking way too cool for it to
be believable with headphones around his neck and red hair hidden under the baseball cap
that Haruka had seen a few times before—but never liked. Because, damn, how could
something battle with that shade of red?
His eyes were hesitating under the bill of the cap, shining with something like tentative hope
as they searched the people waiting around. And in a moment of complete madness Haruka
felt his own hand rising into the air above his head.
Here.
I’m here.
And suddenly he could feel it all over again: that warmth, making him forget where that
stupid hand of his went—he somehow couldn’t give a shit if he was still standing there like a
dumbass frozen in time.
Because Rin was looking right at him, his lips instantly stretching into wide smile that
threatened to meet on the other side of his head.
Haruka wondered how long it took his own mouth to reflect the grin, surely looking much
more stupid with his unused face muscles.
Still so beautiful.
It was pretty futile attempt to fight the feeling once he was caught again in the net that was
Rin’s electric smile. So when the man nodded and headed his way with long, confident
strides, Haruka didn’t even fight it.
He only blinked stupidly, letting his chest fly up into the air-conditioned space above them
like a paper kite flapping in a strong wind.
“Hey,” Haruka heard someone say, and it surprisingly sounded like his own voice.
A nod.
“Hey,” Rin whispered warmly into the clamor around, but it was just alright for Haruka’s
ears. “You’re here.”
And while the stupid cap travelled to Rin’s back pocket and the sea of red flooded Haruka’s
senses, he could barely notice anything beyond the way his breath smelled nicely of apple
juice. And beyond the way red eyes flickered down to his own lips and back—a weird,
unknown urgency forcing his hands to curl into fists.
Haruka didn’t dare move a brow as heavy bags landed one after another at his feet, and
suddenly he knew what was about to come. Rin’s mouth opened as he seemed to take a
breath.
He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that the man stood way too close; that he was,
indeed, mounting over him in a hall full of people.
People who might not react too well on two idiots kissing each other like nuts in front of
everyone.
But he somehow didn’t give a single fuck as he took that last step of his own accord,
remembering vaguely there was some set of rules about not touching—or hugging, or some
other shit—who would remember.
A short happy exclamation came from somewhere behind his back, sounding a lot like
Nagisa’s, mingled with Rei’s amused chuckle. But who would care when burning ocean
waves were crashing over him like a damn tsunami.
And it would have been all perfect—a movie-like moment Haruka would appreciate later
once his heartbeat slowed down to its normal rhythm.
But of course it wasn’t. It took only one quiet calling of Rin’s perfect name, and Haruka
knew everything was screwed.
He watched, bewildered, how that shining face turned quickly away, strands of soft hair
tickling Haruka’s forehead in the process. And then Rin smiled again somewhere into the
crowd. It wasn’t the same, though. Because this time there was pain in it—so palpable that
Haruka’s stomach constricted with his own.
Of course she was there—he didn’t have to turn his head to confirm it. But when he did, in
the end, there was a mixture of blond and shiny black hair in his field of vision, as two girls
stood afar in a vicious embrace. And Anna’s blue eyes were on them, while she hung on
Jane’s small frame—full of unshed tears, glistening in the gentle evening light.
As on command Haruka took a step back, returning to the place he shouldn’t have left in the
first place. And he almost believed it was a huge information table that fell off of the wall
right onto his head as something crushingly heavy stole the rest of air from his lungs.
And the shaking fear was there all over again, forcing him close his eyes. Because Rin was in
Anna’s arms when he opened them again, and it didn’t matter that the red eyes were still
glued on Haruka’s face, apologetic and somehow longing.
Because he was supposed to be in Haruka’s instead, and he simply wasn’t.
He didn’t get it; didn’t want to think about what it meant. It was supposed to be a start of
another chapter now that Rin was back, no matter how much Haruka didn’t want to think of it
that way. Why the hell did it always have to be like that: each beautiful moment stolen
unfairly from his hands as if someone ripped the concrete floor from under his feet?
No, it wasn’t supposed to be like that this time; it was supposed to be better, now that he had
held Rin so close in that empty locker room. Now that they’d moved forward a tiny bit.
And maybe he didn’t know what to do about it all while Rin was away, with only e-mails to
keep his mind occupied during long night hours. But having him this close a moment ago, it
felt so natural that Haruka understood there was only one way this could go.
Nagisa hung on his right arm, whispering angrily into his ear, and Haruka fought the need to
wipe away disgusting wetness that landed on his cheek.
“Did you know she stayed in Tokyo, Haru-chan? I though she’d left with Rin. That’s so—”
“Nagisa.” Rei’s gloomy voice came from somewhere close, but why would scolding stop the
pink-eyed brat now, when it had never worked before? The stream of words went on without
noticing how fucking worse it was making the situation.
“He never mentioned anything like that. I knew Jane was supposed to come back with him,
and I told Mako-chan, and then he didn’t wanna come with us, and oh my goodness, Haru-
chan, I swear I didn’t know she would be here, waiting with us!”
“Get off me, now.” Haruka tried to get rid of the hyper-excited blond, but he was worse than
a leech.
At last Anna’s arms fell off of Rin’s neck, and Haruka watched the man rake his hair
nervously as he spoke to the girls, still throwing glances towards their little pitiable group.
And then he was striding back, jaw muscles contracting, right hand scratching the back of his
neck.
“I’m sorry, guys,” Rin rushed to say, making Haruka want to slap his own face for hoping
this would end up differently than he knew it would. “I have to take them home. But we’ll
see each other later tonight, okay? Deal?”
And it was so fucking unfair the red eyes hung solely on Haruka’s face, hopeful and waiting
impatiently for an answer. As if he was the only one whose response mattered.
So he nodded, finally looking away—what else was he supposed to do? Only the burning
behind his idiotic eyes was the prize.
“Whaaat? And what are we like... supposed to do now?” Nagisa exclaimed at Rin’s
distancing back, and it was obvious he wasn’t the only one disappointed as a heavy sigh came
from Rei’s side. “How could you ditch us just like that? We came to collect you here. That’s
—”
But Rin and his bags were already gone by the time Nagisa’s outburst faded away—he was
still looking back their way, though, and his mouth was opening with silent apologies again
and again.
“Haruka-senpai, you’re going to meet your mom as you said?” Rei’s voice cut the long
awkward silence that followed after Rin’s and the girls’ figures disappeared behind the tiled
corner.
A nod.
“Very well,” Rei stated, and Haruka envied him that calm state of mind. “Nagisa and I will
find something to do for a few hours, and we’ll meet you later in the city.”
“Alright,” he said, trying not to think of the way Anna’s face lit up when Rin joined them
again. But the picture was there, adding anger into the mixture of crazy things swirling inside
of his chest.
I’m so stupid.
It took two weeks of Rin’s absence to settle things down a little. To fall back into a
comfortable routine, conveniently pulling him down under the surface of every-day dream.
But it would take far more than two months to forget how idiotically close he was mere
minutes ago to falling back into Rin’s arms as if nothing had ever happened before.
As if they were nothing more than two ordinary people, having started an ordinary love affair.
It would never be like that between them, would it?
But when he thought of it later, Haruka didn’t know if it was the surprised, amused yelp
coming out of Rei’s mouth or Nagisa’s astonished cackle, which accompanied the sound of
his own name, that made him look up from the concrete floor, leading him to the hall’s exit.
But one thing was sure.
He did not see it coming when long arms curled around him from behind, pushed forcefully
air out of his lungs, and bent him forward a little.
“I missed you,” someone whispered breathlessly in Rin’s voice as if after a long run, warm
lips way too close to Haruka’s left ear. “That’s all I wanted to say. For now.”
Then, in a hundredth of a second, the soothing pressure was gone again, replaced by the
sound of fast, light steps. Only the warmth still lingered in Haruka’s clothes as he turned
around, wishing to know how to not melt upon one stupid gesture.
Damn romantic idiot.
“Hey! I want a hug too!” Nagisa exclaimed towards Rin’s distancing body.
All of a sudden there was a light, shaky sigh falling out of Haruka’s own mouth, attracting
the attention of his friends back to him. And he had to hide his face from their wide grins
behind the safe shield of his hands.
“Let’s go, Rei-chan.” Nagisa laughed out loud. “I think someone here needs time alone. See
you later, Haru-chan.”
With a wink they were gone, leaving him alone in the middle of a crowd.
And when that weird, beautiful pain in his chest didn’t want to ease a bit no matter how hard
he pushed against the quickly forming brand new smile, he realized the waiting was over.
He was back on the rollercoaster, and he loved every fucking second of it.
***
The sun had already set down behind rooftops by the time he made it to the Ginza building.
The last remnants of the day brought clouds up on the west sky alive, reflecting them in glass
mirrors of skyscrapers’ windows. Tying Haruka’s eyes up high above the crowd.
The big shopping mall towered over the wide square, pulsing with life in a mad rhythm as
Haruka meandered among the people. Just like him, all desperately trying to follow the zebra
crossing on the ground, but it was barely visible under the hundreds of feet.
It was impossible to keep a single clear thought in his mind between the howling of cars,
pushing the endless stream of walkers out of the road, and the annoying giggling of young,
typical 'Tokyo' girls behind his back.
Mainly above his own fast heartbeat.
As he reached the heavily lit-up entrance of the mall, Haruka was sure the noise and artificial
light around had robbed him of at least a few years of his life. It didn’t add to his peace of
mind that the girls, as it turned out, followed him up to the mall’s glass gate. The silly group
anchored no more than five feet from him, apparently waiting for others to join them. They
were having fun, alright.
And watching them from afar, Haruka could feel the change happening.
Anytime before, when he would’ve been standing here, all alone and observing others’
laughing faces, he would’ve wished to be in their place. He would’ve wanted to feel light and
young, too. He’d done it too many times to count.
Now he didn’t have to.
Now, he was young, younger than he’d ever been before. Lighter that those clouds above the
skyscrapers’ rooftops.
With a shaky sigh, Haruka fought against the idiotic urge of his lips to stretch wide over his
face once again. It was a war long lost, though, as he realized around halfway through the
subway ride, watching his own reflection in a mirror-like black window. The longer he had
stared at his own face, the stronger the need became.
Because Rin was back.
And Rin missed him.
He missed me.
There simply wasn’t a power in this world able to make him think of anything else at the
moment. None at all.
“Oh, wake up, already.”
His mother stepped in front of him, looking annoyed as she stomped a cigarette butt into the
ground, making him blink in surprise. “I called for you more times than I can count.”
He missed me.
Haruka merely shrugged, once her presence distantly registered with him, and followed in her
steps when she seemed to be finally done with deadly staring. Dragging his feet behind her
he wished to somehow can the feeling, which occupied his fluttering chest, into a glass jar.
So he could have a taste of it later, anytime he wanted.
And, no, he wasn’t particularly paying too much attention to her meaningless blabbering as
they walked past the shiny shops’ windows. So when she suddenly stopped in her tracks, it
took Haruka a good few seconds before he caught up. Her lips pursed with irritation, and
judging by the long, heavy sigh she gave right after, it was obvious he wore quite a dumb
expression on his face after finally turning around and meeting her eyes.
“You’ve been completely useless since this morning.”
She gave her head a little shake, but for some reason it didn’t sound like the scolding Haruka
was already used to. Unfortunately, what she was saying was way too uninteresting to cut
through his moony state of mind.
“Haruka.”
“Huh?”
His eyes widened as she strode towards him like a train. He took a step back, anticipating the
worst, but it was too late to run or hide. Yet there was nothing but her eyes, piercing and
suddenly too close.
“Can you try to focus at least for a while?” She shook her head a little again, and, shockingly,
there was the slightest trace of smile in her eyes—for some reason disturbingly knowing. She
kept staring at him for a solid while, making him shift from one foot to another
uncomfortably. But eventually she turned around and walked away. “Let’s go, I think we
should start with you.”
“Me?” Haruka managed to push out, blinking through the haze.
What did she say again?
“Yeah. You, Haruka,” his mother said somewhere in front of him, and to his big surprise gave
a short chuckle.
Heading into the left part of the mall’s passage she kept throwing glances over her shoulder,
as if to make sure he hadn’t gotten lost on the way while following in her steps like a
sleepwalker. And he wondered, perplexed, what was so funny that it made the hard lines of
her face soften around edges.
Soon enough she stopped, and with the very same observing expression glued on his face
motioned towards shops.
“I think this one has good enough suits. Not the best, of course, but one can do only so much
in a place like this. We don’t have time to look for a proper tailor.”
Haruka blinked, and like in a dream his eyes travelled up above the shop his mother stomped
into. The giant 'Armani' characters above the shop shone to the passage, followed by their
original version. Judging by its shiny and elegant windows, it was probably the most
expensive of all around here.
“What?” he asked stupidly, not following her small frame now that she headed towards the
counter. A petite shop assistant straightened behind it and smiled sweetly. “A suit?”
What the hell would he need a suit for? High school graduation was long behind him and he
was still just a freshman at the university.
“Of course a suit. What else do you think you’re going to wear to opera? I don’t intend to be
ashamed by those lousy clothes of yours.”
He felt his own eyebrows rise up to the ceiling. Welcome to ridiculous women’s brain again,
Haruka thought. This was apparently yet another stupid idea that had grown inside of his
mother’s head, nothing more.
He searched the assistant's smiling face for help with understanding, or at least for some sort
of explanation, but of course there was none. The girl seemed to be equally uncomfortable by
their exchange, though, as she said her 'welcome' to them. Her smile faded away a bit as her
eyes met Haruka’s, and her hand nervously reached for the long strand of her apparently
dyed, almost white hair, that hung over her shoulder. She tugged on it, lowering her eyes to
the counter’s desk.
An opera?
Me?
I’d rather eat both my legs.
Haruka turned on his heel, understanding hitting hard that he should’ve expected that the
shopping wasn’t going to be innocent mother-son bonding time. Why the hell was he still
anticipating something she was obviously unable to do?
“I’m going to look for a swimsuit.”
“Wait,” she said somewhere behind him, voice raised, and he would swear there was panic
shaking it a little at the end. “Haruka, please.” He stopped, wishing to be able to not notice
these kind of stupid details in human behaviour—just like any other normal man—and,
despite himself, waited for her to continue.
And there were less than few things she could say to make him turn his head around, but as
she spoke again in a voice gloomy and somewhat disappointed, Haruka knew she managed to
find one.
“I knew you wouldn’t care about my birthday at all, but I honestly thought you could do as
much as take me out.”
She looked slightly older without that familiar stern expression of hers, when he finally
relented and with a sigh turned to her again. Haruka knew, was pretty sure even, that it was
nothing more than one of her emotional blackmailing methods once again. But it did seem
like the sadness was genuine in the way she held her lips pursed.
The loneliness that floated around her slightly hunched shoulders seemed that way too,
making his insides twitch.
Reminding him too much of himself.
Damn.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t remember the date, because he did. But if he wanted to be honest, he
hoped her birthday would pass just like all of his own had during all those years. With a
birthday card and simple words of congratulations—this time adding a handshake, fine, since
they weren’t on opposite sides of the world for the first time since he was a small boy.
She seemed to hope for something else, though.
“I don’t need a suit,” he said, at last, taking slow steps towards her, and tried his best to
ignore the way the assistant eavesdropped on their awkward conversation with obvious
interest. The girl seemed to realize it once his eyes met her black ones again, and lowered her
head with cheeks even redder than before. “I have one.”
“Tch.” His mother shook her head unbelievingly, a small winning sparkle lighting-up her
brown irises. “You mean that piece of cheep trash in your closet? Don’t make me laugh,
Haruka.” And as he rolled his eyes and her lips quirked into an almost invisible smile, the
atmosphere felt somewhat lighter again. She sighed, walking past him, and said in a voice
silent, words meant only for his ears. “And don’t worry about money. It’s going to be my
night, so it’s also my treat.”
She walked by his side with her head high as they followed the girl into the back of the shop
—he would’ve sworn she thought she had just won a fight.
This time he couldn’t care less, though.
Because there were a lot more important things to think about while he stood in the shop’s
changing cabin. Conversation of an overly nice assistant and his mother flew behind the
curtain without a single word touching his mind; distant and uninteresting. He simply
couldn’t manage to pay attention to any of that. Not when time was moving forward, slowly
and steadily, leading him to the moment he was going to meet him again.
But for now, it was just Haruka and his own face in the tall mirror of the cabin. Watching the
blueness of his eyes reflecting back at him, they looked somehow more lively, indeed.
Twinkling and a little hazy—they didn’t even seem like his own.
Is this really me?
Maybe it was then, in a short moment of lucidity, when it happened: his hands stopped
instantly on the snowy white collar of his shirt as a sensation of a deadly punch appeared in
the depths of his gut, robbing him of air in his lungs. And Haruka watched firsthand in the
mirror as his face fell down, returning into its almost normal state.
Because the way his own eyes sparkled reminded him of someone else’s.
The picture of Anna’s teared-up face at the airport emerged at once, just the same as the way
Rin ran instantly into her arms. Like a damn lost puppy returning home. Haruka drew in the
heavy hot air of the cabin, feeling his head spinning—this time for reasons different than
Rin’s presence.
But no matter how he tried to not let his brain go this way, it was a one way ride.
The memory of the night spent at Yamazaki’s crept in like a ghost, followed by the
happenings of the night that preceded it. Hollowing and making cold sweat rise all over his
skin. It seeped through the layers of the fine fabric, ruining the brand new shirt that most
probably cost more than his annual income. Haruka raked his hair, praying to put a stop to it
right now.
Yet the pure joy that had a hold of him since the moment the man’s arms curled around him
so tightly was already being corrupted by irresistible thoughts of upcoming doom.
He was more than grateful for a familiar flat voice to come from behind the curtain, ripping
him of the dream turning quickly into a nightmare.
“Come outside, I want to see.”
His hands shook a little as they tried to fasten the buttons of the vest in front of the bigger
mirror outside the cabin, and it wasn’t because of the heavy scrutiny of his mother.
Haruka knew he wasn’t stupid—at least not anymore, after what he had been through. Damn
it if it didn’t feel real, didn’t feel natural when he had Rin so close, leaning over him like in
that scene of the movie they had watched together in a cinema. When only that kiss remained
to turn his life into a replica of a fairytale.
But didn’t he know Rin well enough by now to build castles in the sky based only on the way
the man stared at him wide-eyed? Hadn’t they gone through something similar before?
Hadn’t it all turned out catastrophically in the end?
How many times, dammit, had he already had his fingers slapped only because he so
recklessly reached out for the man? How many times was it going to happen again?
Jittery unease pushed his heart into a quicker pace, making him more than grateful when his
mother stood in front of him, buttoned the vest with fingers firm and steady, and smoothly
helped him into the jacket.
“Well,” she muttered silently, observing him in the mirror. There was a long pause before she
spoke again, voice silent and uncharacteristically nostalgic. “A dark blue really does suit
you.”
Dammit, Haruka thought, while the young looking assistant suddenly stood to his side and
startled him. The man wasn’t in the city for more than two hours, and his mind was already
running downright crazy.
“May I?” the girl asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror for a fleeting second before lowering
hers again. Haruka shrugged and nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable when she shyly
placed her hands on his shoulders. “Could you—” she started with voice unsteady, not
moving her palms an inch. “Could sir, please, stand straight with arms relaxed by side?”
He obeyed, fighting a sudden wave of irritation. He didn’t need any explanations; didn’t have
the slightest idea, nor had he an interest in what a proper suit should look like. Just seeing
himself in such formal clothing felt like a bad joke; it was so not him it was truly laughable.
“You may see the shoulder lies flat. The seam on top is the same length as the bone under it,
and it meets the sleeve of the suit right where your arm meets your shoulder. Just as it should
be. There is no need for adjustments here.”
She seemed to shortly hesitate before her hands disappeared, only to re-emerge under
Haruka’s arms. The touch was almost imperceptible, but it was still weird to have someone
touching him. Someone other than, well, Rin.
She blinked a few times, as if trying to focus again, and Haruka’s eyes shot to his mother’s
amused ones.
What the hell was with the girl?
“But you may also see, sir, the jacket doesn’t close over your body nicely.” Haruka let out a
sigh, barely containing the need to push her hands, which now travelled around his torso,
away.
“The buttons strain a little. We need to find a different design. For—” She halted mid-
sentence, swallowing thickly, and startled him with yet another sudden movement as she
moved in front of him, unbuttoning the jacket. “For wide shoulders and a waist slim as sir
has.”
Haruka blinked in surprise as her small face turned up to him, wearing a shy, but most
definitely meaningful smile. And, finally realizing—like the dumbass he truly was—that the
girl was hitting on him, he just prayed that the horrified feeling didn’t show that clearly on
his face.
“Fine, let’s find another one.” Haruka’s mother jumped in, making the girl’s body jolt at the
sound of her impatient and annoyed voice. “I’d like to change the shirt, too. There are stains
on the sleeve.”
Thank god.
“Oh,” the assistant said, at last, lowering her head. “I’ll be right back, then.”
And, meeting his mother’s raised eyebrows, for the first time ever Haruka felt like giving her
a hug.
It wasn’t just the obvious fact the girl was, well, a girl. But Haruka could hardly imagine
anyone else in Rin’s place; anyone else having the right to be close to him—no one but Rin
could do that. It didn’t really make any change whether the man was going to do something
about it or not, now that he was supposedly 'single'.
Haruka’s thoughts ran back and forth, not knowing if he actually wanted the man to move the
two of them forward, or not yet. The memory of a locker room that he had shared with Rin
not so long ago resurfaced, making him even more confused than before. Because he had
made a decision then, meant to protect them both—to wait and see what’s in store for both of
them later.
Today at the airport, though, he had acted as if there was none.
Haruka sighed, still unsure of what the right thing to do was, even after all this time.
“So.” His mother cleared her throat awkwardly, pulling him out of the dream. She reached for
the sleeve to observe alleged, most probably non-existent stains. “You’re not going to ask?”
“About what?” he asked stupidly, blinking at his own reflection.

He couldn’t be sure about it, but it did look like she swallowed nervously next to him. Haruka
searched her eyes when she didn’t offer any explanation, but she refused to make eye-contact.
With a sigh she squatted next to him, observing the lower hem of the slacks for the littlest
sewing imperfection.
“About that... about your dad’s message? The one you gave me earlier?”
A short beat of silence preceded Haruka’s answer.
“No.”
“Why not?” she asked, looking genuinely curious as she finally looked him in the eye, but
didn’t wait for his answer. “Don’t you want to know what’s happened? I’ve been waiting two
weeks for you to ask about it, but you’re just... not.”
Haruka shrugged and looked away. “It’s not my business.”
Of course that wasn’t entirely true. Because no matter how hard he tried, it was impossible to
completely push the visit that the strange man had payed him the day Rin left for Australia
out of his mind. Yet with every passing day the memory somewhat blended, stored by
Haruka’s brain into the blind corner where everything regarding his father lay untouched,
covered by dust.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t give a shit about his own blood.
But the man, truthfully, wasn’t part of Haruka’s life anymore; had never been, really. Haruka
wasn’t even sure he even had an idea who his father truly was. It’d been years now since the
man even bothered to talk to him over the phone—the courtesy that even his mother found
time for occasionally.
Apart from a signature on birthday cards there were less than a few proofs that he even
existed.
So maybe it was a shitty thing to say, and maybe he wouldn’t admit it out loud if asked. But
for years now Haruka felt that he didn’t have any father—just like the man didn’t have a son.
It wouldn’t truly make any difference if he was alive or dead.
And now, as if it wasn’t enough that his mother invaded Haruka’s life, she seemed to drag the
man along. He so didn’t want to be part of it, no matter what kind of problems his father had
gotten into. The man was a grown-up, after all, had his big career and all he ever wanted. So
if he did something to piss off top dogs and they were now after him, well, Haruka was pretty
sure he would get through it, no matter if his so-called only son had his blood pressure raised
over it or not.
The question was, though, why the hell was he supposed to be the one to make an
intermediary between his parents.
If they wanted divorce—fine. If they wanted to be together—even better.

It was not his business at all.
But when he dared to find the face of his mother in the mirror, lit by strong, unbecoming light
of the cabin, she didn’t seem to be too happy over his answer. The brown of her eyes turned
somehow darker while he was trying on another four jacket designs. And except for the
occasional 'fine' or 'too loose' coming out of her mouth, there was nothing.
As the shop assistant’s reassurances that everything was going to be sent to their address as
soon as possible marked the prayed end of the shopping, Haruka’s stomach churned with
anxiousness.
What the hell did she expect him to do?
To say?
Did he really have a moral obligation to feel for his almost non-existent father? Didn’t the
man just ditch her like a used toy, too? Despite doing his best Haruka couldn't understand
why she was even bothered by what that man did—not to say trying to find him—or
whatever it was that damned message talked about.
“Have a nice day, sir. Come again, and please, have this,” the assistant said in a voice too
high to sound natural, drawing him out of a dream once again. Haruka nodded solemnly,
ignoring the outstretched hand in vain hope his mother would take care of it—whatever it
was; a catalogue, flier, or a damned receipt.
Only the girl seemed to think otherwise as she ran around the counter and bowed deeply in
front of him. There was a card in her hands, silver with elegant black writing.
Haruka stared forth, petrified by the scene; horrified by what was about to come.
“I beg sir to pardon my temerity. I’m deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but I just can’t do
differently. Please, have my personal card, there’s my cell phone number on the back. It
would be my pleasure if sir found me enough—”
“Alright,” his mother said, looking disgusted as she snatched the card from the poor girl’s
fingers. “I think he understands. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, so I won’t ask to
meet your supervisor. But take this as advice. Never put yourself down in front of a man. It’s
repellent.”
With that she turned on her heel and stomped out of the shop, leaving dismayed Haruka and
an almost crying girl behind. It took him a moment or two before the worst shock receded,
but eventually it did. He bowed hastily, feeling equally relieved as ashamed for the assistant’s
tears, and cleared the scene as well.
“What?” she barked once he caught up to her and stared at the piece of silver plastic, thrown
without further ado into the trash bin. “If you tell me now you want it, you’ll have to look for
it yourself.”
And, completely against any expectations he had had about this night, Haruka chuckled,
shaking his head once. She looked him over with a wry smile, and took off.
“Like I thought.”
Yeah, it was stupid.
It was rude, and it was inappropriate how she treated the poor girl, period. She meddled in his
personal affairs, too, which was something Haruka would never have allowed anytime before
—notwithstanding he had no intention to get the card from the girl. But it was also the very
first time ever that his mother did something like this.
Something like standing up for him.
And Haruka didn’t know why, didn’t even want to think of it, but for some reason something
strangely warm was reborn inside of his chest.
They walked out of the mall in a silence that wasn’t as cold as he remembered it to always
be, and it wasn’t just a chilly night that made goosebumps run over his skin.
Just as Haruka opened his mouth to say his good-bye, there was suddenly a small hand
touching his forearm, pulling him gently closer. He looked up with a start, since she was even
less tactile person than he himself was, and met her brown eyes. They were clouded, and
somehow worried.
“I never thought I’d be bothering you with this, Haruka, and I indeed wouldn’t if I had any
other choice, but...” She took in a long breath and finally looked away, but her fingers
clutched onto him stronger than before. “But I don’t, and you’re the only one that can help.”
And as her fingers dug deeper into his skin, and something painfully squeezed his ribcage,
Haruka knew that whatever she was going to say, it wasn’t an easy decision to ask him, of all
people. Something made her find the courage to open her mouth, though, and it was
something that most definitely hadn’t been there between them yesterday.
He could barely breathe when she looked at him again.
“I need to meet Kawasaki Anna’s father again, and I need you to make it happen.”
***
Matsuoka Rin:
[Hurry up 21:12 ]
Nothing more than two words awaited Haruka as he walked down the street to the station,
heart heavy. Shocked, his mind made him stand there like a dumbass with his mouth open.
No 'hi', not even his name.
And although he didn’t have the slightest clue why, nothing else was needed to change
everything.
To send his painfully squeezing heart into wild run. To make him stumble over each and
every rational thought, doubt, and logical argument regarding Rin that had ever been born in
his head; shake them to the core. To plaster a picture of his face everywhere Haruka looked.
Lock him up into an ivory tower of bittersweet hopes that his brain couldn’t knock him out
off, no matter how much it tried.
Haruka indeed fought against foolishly breaking into a mad spurt again; if for nothing else
than to not put another layer of sweat to his already stinky shirt. How was he supposed to do
so, though, when the universe was giving him signs at every corner?
Damn, he thought with embarrassment, not even as a kid had he believed in such stupid
ideas. Now, for all that mattered, he was too old to start.
Yet when the subway’s door opened just in front of his eyes, it might have been a
coincidence. When the crowd bizarrely broke before him just in time to make an easier way
through, it might have been nothing more than luck. Yet after the fifth green light at a fifth
intersection Haruka gave up, and gave in to whatever it was that wanted him in the small café
right then and not a second later, and pushed his body into a spurt.
It was, indeed, as if the planet decided to spin a little quicker. Or maybe tectonic plates
awakened after their billion year sleep and moved, making the journey shorter.
Either way the world seemed to do anything to get him there sooner, and Haruka understood.
Because there was an exciting promise hidden in Rin’s impatience that matched his own.
In no time he was there, facing the wooden door of a café with lanterns hanging above his
head. And Haruka knew as his palm pushed against it that he had no strength against the need
to see those extraordinary colours go haywire again. Bursting all around in vivid explosions
and covering Tokyo city; just like they had earlier that day.
The epicentre was now too close to keep away.
Maybe, he pondered with tightened throat while being led by a waitress to the back garden,
there was nothing awaiting him behind the flowery bushes separating inner parts of the café
from its outside but a night spent with his friends in a cozy, nice place. Most probably he was
just going to spend it like all those before: watching Rin from afar, longing. Fighting his ever-
lasting fight between wanting to throw himself at the man and running away with waving
hands above his head.
It would be for the better, anyway.

But as he stumbled over the threshold and almost knocked a shocked waitress down with
quickly expanding eagerness, Haruka somehow knew this night wasn’t going to end this way.
And as a few tabby cats, gathered at the garden’s door, abandoned their bowls with frustrated
mewls, the excitement spread through his limbs over one obvious possibility.
That, maybe, when Rin had sent that simple message, it was yet another sign—this time from
the man, not the universe.
A sign that he needed Haruka to give the thing between them another shot.
And there was no denying the truth once he caught his balance again and searched around the
tables until he found the one circled by his friends.
It was in the way red eyes on the other side of the garden lit up once they met his own, and
then kept watching him impatiently, staring with a wordless 'finally'. Making him shiver with
foul impression that the two of them were the only ones there.
Or, at least, the only ones who knew an underlying secret, which not a single person around
the table and in the whole restaurant had a fucking clue about.
And it was also in the way the place next to Rin instantly turned empty, jackets thrown over
another chair on the other side of the table. Or in a way there were two fabulously meaningful
seats between the man and glaring Anna, filled with beaming Nagisa and strangely serious
Makoto.
Definitely in the way Rin’s long fingers curled around the metallic backseat of the empty
chair, silently inviting him. Making him move forward without thinking, wishing to lose the
audience around and just submerge into that lingering ache, always present while being so
close. Praying to get lost within the warming arms he had come to know and crave.
Understanding that maybe, maybe this time Rin wouldn’t really mind.
No, he had no idea of how much he hungered for physical contact until there was nothing but
quickly shrinking metres of wooden tables between him and that body, so fine and looking
firmer than ever.
And if it had been any other time, Haruka would’ve probably appreciated more how a green
living fence hugged the small café’s garden, making the light strings that hung on it stand out
against its foliage. How it somehow created a romantic atmosphere that Rin was now most
probably admiring—although secretly, of course. But now it was just too far to grasp, out of
the tunnel vision his brain had gotten stuck in.
Even the chilly air of an early June night couldn’t lower the high temperature of his cheeks as
he made his way between tables pressed tightly together; hot eyes still glued on him. Finally
squeezing himself between the man and a backboard wall with numerous charcoal writings,
Haruka couldn’t care less that he must have wiped half of the daily menu off of it.
No, he didn’t give a damn about it, at all. Just as he didn’t about the way Nagisa’s thumbs
pointed up in the characteristically over-excited gesture of approval behind Rin’s back, a
moment before Rei managed to get hold of them. He couldn’t force himself to give a single
fuck about the people chirping around the café, as well as their table. It was just too distant
and way too unimportant.
And he hoped that a simple 'hi' directed to the rest of the table would be considered enough
conversation from his side for the rest of the night.
Because he planned to pay attention to other things, tonight.
Things like Rin’s shoulder, pressed against his own in the scarce room their table was
assigned; warm and just as strong as Haruka remembered. Things like Rin’s deep voice in his
ear, honey-like and somewhat shy—not as close as it was earlier at the airport, but still
enough to send Haruka’s already spinning mind into overdrive.
“Hungry?”
Sweet breath hinted with something like white chocolate touched his face, making Haruka
catch for breath as he turned his dumb head and stared.
And stared, and stared, and hoped desperately for it to happen again. To be allowed, at least
once again, to share the taste of whatever it was that Rin had eaten before Haruka got here.
Drunkenly he nodded, praying it was possible to cross that short distance to the man’s lips
without the necessary social repercussions and kicks his brain would surely give him later.
What did he ask, again?
“I thought you didn’t like sweets.”
And then he watched, with the horrible realization of being caught so stupidly, how confusion
on Rin’s face quickly turned into amused realization. Damn, Haruka thought, he wasn’t here
more than five minutes, and already he’d managed to make a fool of himself.
But where he expected the man to put some desperately needed space between them, there
came nothing. Nothing, except for those perfect lips quirking into a small, sexy smile, and
Haruka’s world colliding with the nearest supernova.
“Nagisa’s mochi ice cream. Let me have a bite a while ago. S’not so bad, I guess.”
Haruka nodded again, finally forcing his eyes on the dark wood and lit candles in front of
him. Only a small sigh forced him to turn his jumpy attention back to the lingering smile
again—now way, way too close. Although half-hidden behind fingers of the hand Rin’s chin
leaned on, it still sparkled beautifully through the red eyes.
Haruka faltered, unable to look elsewhere.
It was a more than welcome distraction when Nagisa’s voice interrupted the route his feverish
brain was about to take.
“Oi, Haru-chan, took you long enough. Makoto and Rin wanted to wait for you with a toast,
but I and the girls have already started,” the blond said apologetically, lifting his glass and
pointing towards a similar one, only full, sitting in front of Haruka. “I hope you’re not mad or
something.”
Shaking his head Haruka hesitated, realizing all of a sudden that Rin’s elbow probably didn’t
have to be necessarily pressed against his that tightly; just as his whole upper arm. There
was, indeed, space enough for the man to avoid the contact, if he really wanted.
Haruka let out a shaky sigh, not knowing how much longer he would be able to take it, before
he crumbled into a myriad of pieces, bitter like olives in the drink standing before him.
It wasn’t just that anytime Rin talked to someone else around the table or laughed, Haruka
could feel the vibrations of his voice inside of his own body.
But it was also the first time he touched anybody’s skin since last time Rin was in his arms—
except for his mother, but that so didn’t count. And it felt fucking amazing. Dazzling in a way
Haruka could hardly understand, making goosebumps run up and down his back.
“Ready to order?” Rin asked, obviously not realizing Haruka neither had words to cope with
the question, nor did he know what the man was talking about. It was a good thing, though,
that he didn’t wait for an answer for too long. “Alright. Let’s find something together.”
Together.
Most certainly Haruka’s heart shouldn’t have launched into that kind of gallop just over one
stupid word, but when it came to him and Rin, any 'together' was doing the job, alright.
And maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad, as he thought about it later, maybe he would’ve
even been able to keep his lush imagination at bay, if only the man didn’t suddenly stand up
and with an apology reach for the menu, lying conspiratorially on other table.
Yeah, maybe it would’ve been all quite manageable, in the end, if long fingers didn’t rest on
his back in the process, ever so softly; casually as if they did it everyday.
It tingled, and it burned.
“I don’t think they have mackerel, though.”
“Huh?” Haruka heard himself say, losing himself in the feeling of closeness once again as the
man sat back down. Finally he swallowed and licked his lips in attempt to reinvent the ability
to speak, which obviously decided to pack its things and disappear for good. “That’s fine.”
“Is it, now?” Rin breathed out with a small chuckle, surely thinking he had gone out of his
mind for good.
And placing the opened menu in front of Haruka the man leaned over it—as innocently as it
was devilish—too close to not attack Haruka’s nostrils with the fresh smell of shampoo.
This.
This is not going to end well.

It was so unfair, really. Because surely, after each and every time he couldn’t say no to Rin’s
kisses, after each scorching touch they had ever shared, the man must have quite a detailed
idea of the effect he had on Haruka.
Yet he did it again so easily, effortlessly—as if not food, but turning Haruka’s skin into a
burning stove was on the menu tonight.
And it was when a knee shyly touched Haruka’s own under the table—a tentative contact so
soft it could just as well have been his imagination—that Haruka’s breathing came to a
definite stop.
“Uhm.” Rin cleared his throat. And this time the nervousness was apparent when he
continued in a voice strangely high and unfamiliar. “I’d say this looks good, what’d you say?
You like salmon? Salmon’s good, isn’t it?”
Haruka tried, he really tried to decipher the characters laying right in front of him, apparently
carrying some information about meals, but they simply didn’t make any sense. And a second
later Haruka understood why his uncooperative brain couldn’t focus on reading.
Because it made him lose his mind completely, pushing his courage to the edge, as he pressed
tentatively back against the touch.
The reaction was instant: a silent, yet sharp intake of breath on Rin’s side and a weird, very
awkward sound coming out of Haruka’s own mouth. At once the pressure of Rin’s knee
became bolder, making the contact more obvious than the half-moon up in the night sky.
Fuck.
Like boiling molasses it crept all over his back, from his hips up along his neck, right to his
uncooperative brain, and it wasn’t that hard to understand that Rin was close behind. The
man’s fingers on the menu stopped drawing little meaningless circles and shapes and were
rather frozen in time and place.
And all that Haruka could do was stare at them; long and elegant, with nails shortly cut and
pale. He knew, he damn knew it was all going to hell once his eyes turned downward,
following numerous prominent veins on Rin’s forearm.
He swallowed thickly, wishing to know how to look away.
But it was too late, and a memory already shot from the depths of his unconsciousness,
bringing back the very live feeling of Rin’s hot tongue in his own mouth.
These hands were in my hair.
Haruka didn’t have the slightest idea, when he jumped up suddenly and pushed the chair out
in the process, of what he was doing or how exactly that action should have helped him. Not
even when he walked to the nearest bathroom with shaking head was he any smarter.
But he pretty much couldn’t do anything more reckless than glance towards the table on the
way—once, just fucking once—and see the enormous question mark screaming from Rin’s
gentle, beautiful eyes. He quickened the pace, praying to get away from under the scrutiny as
soon as possible.
Even cold, fine water didn’t want to help him when he splashed it on his burning face in the
empty bathroom, realizing with irritation that even though it usually soothed everything, now
it was doing less than nothing.
Haruka breathed in, breathed out while leaning his palms against the cool porcelain of a sink
and tried to get a hold of his running mind again.
Damn.
How long was he in Rin’s company, again? Surely no more than half an hour, for fuck’s sake.
And already he had a crucial and very probing problem to deal with—from a damned knee
touching. Looking around the empty bathroom he cursed and without further ado pressed his
palm against the zipper of his jeans, shifting in desperate hope to ease the pressure.
Fuck.
Well, it was as good a time as any to say that those stupid ideas, grown inside of his naive
head after Rin’s breakdown in an empty locker room, were done for good.
Friends. Oh yeah, they were friends.
If being one meant waiting for your so-called friend to press you to the floor and rip your
clothes off, then, yeah, they were friends alright.
With a little more force than necessary Haruka tore a paper towel from the wall machine and
wiped his face. It was going to be a pure hell if Rin continued doing what he did—
notwithstanding how much of it he really intended to cause.
“You alright?”
Now that was the last voice he needed to hear as the bathroom door finally clicked behind
him. And the man just stood there, simply leaning against the wall of the corridor leading to
bathrooms, hands in his pockets.
As if he just didn’t turn Haruka’s world upside down all over again.
Only distant sounds of dishes clicking, milk being heated up by coffee machines, and yelling
waiters crossing the narrow view Haruka had into the café, roused the silence that fell
between them.
Making him feel for a moment like he was the only one clueless here.
But then the man straightened all of a sudden—too quickly and a bit awkwardly—and took a
few slow, cautious steps towards him. Showing unintentionally that he was not, in fact, that
much above it all as he wanted it to look like.
The red eyes hesitated for a second. And suddenly there was a shockingly warm hand on
Haruka’s forearm, and he watched, wide-eyed, how its thumb tried to wipe remnants of
charcoal stains off of his skin.
“I did something wrong, again, didn’t I?” Rin said, voice a little unsteady. It took five beats
of Haruka’s crazy heart before he continued. “Guess you’re not going to tell me what it was.”
He didn’t know whether it was a mere constatation, or a real question, but he shook his head
anyway—not knowing himself if it was supposed to be an answer to the first or the second
question. The man sighed shakily, tugging on his arm a little. But Haruka had no intention of
getting any closer; not here, in a public place like this. He sighed heavily, folding his arms on
his chest.
How was he supposed to explain the unexplainable? Something as complicated as the thing
between them—once again rushing forward like a runaway train, even though they both knew
it was only going to derail this way.
Yet he was given exactly no chance to gather his thoughts, as during two short seconds
Makoto’s tall figure emerged from behind the corner and without giving them a single look
burst through the men’s door. Making Rin take a step closer to Haruka, so close he could feel
the man’s warm breath on his forehead.
Why did he not reflect the motion right away, well, that was a mystery.
He should order a retreat, take a safe back step, rather than stand there like a dumbass, staring
at his own arms and Rin’s nervously shifting feet.
“Look at me.” A whisper. “Please.”
But Haruka couldn’t. Not now, when the man was so close, obviously not intending to go
back to the decent place from a minute ago. He shook his head again, stubbornly staring at
the silver pendant swaying on the string around Rin’s neck. A hand anchored on his elbow,
and Haruka’s arm turned up the temperature considerably, just from the warmth of blood
running through its skin.
“Look. I know there’s a ton of things we have to talk about. But, now I—” Rin started, but
wasn’t allowed to finish.
An avalanche of fair hair plunged down the corridor and passed them with long, angry
strides. They both stared, ripped out of their bubble, how Jane’s small frame fell through the
door right after Makoto, not caring one bit she was entering the men’s room.
“What’s this all about?” Haruka asked with a frown, listening to an explosion of voices inside
of the small bathroom.
What could those two fight about?
He could hardly stay focused enough on their friends’ troubles, though, when all of a sudden
there were long fingers touching a single strand of his hair, pushing it out of his face. And
nothing made sense when Rin spoke again, this time in a voice silent, spiced up with a soft,
dangerously loving smile.
“Reckon it’s about you. It’s always about you when it comes to Makoto.” He gave out a small
chuckle. “And some of the rest of us.”
“Me?”
A nod.
It didn’t make sense. What Rin said didn’t make sense, and what he did even less. Haruka
swallowed, knowing he had to get away and now; even ten minutes ago was too late.
Listening to things like that wasn’t doing anything good to his stupid, crazy heart.
Because, yeah, Rin was the first Haruka had ever kissed. That was the truth undeniable, and it
was going to stay like that forever.
But he was also the first one who taught him that nothing in the 'love' department—or how
would you call it—was going to go as easily as you wished.
He wanted, yearned to be able to give into this just like that, wave his hand and forget every
time Rin had said good-bye before. To get a hold of his white T-shirt until it was wrinkled
and then totally ruined from the grip of his fist; to turn his face up and bring Rin’s closer until
there was nothing between them; no air, no worthless, unimportant words.
Only they weren’t as unimportant as he wished them to be.
And Rin was right; Haruka needed answers—at least to some of his questions.
The fact he didn’t know how to ask for them made the problem only a bit more complicated
than it already was.
“Just tell me it’s not screwed up for good.” Rin breathed out shakily, ignoring the ongoing
quarrel behind the bathroom door. “Because I spent two weeks thinking about it... about how
much of a dick I was to you, and I... It just scares the shit out of me that it was too much.
That you won’t ever look at me again without... Damn, Nanase, you know you turn me into a
brainless—”
Haruka didn’t know when exactly he lifted his hand, or why its fingers curled around the
silver pendant. Maybe it just swayed too irritatingly in front of his eyes.
Maybe he needed at least some form of contact, when he wasn’t able to offer any other.
What he did know, though, was that the gesture was enough to stop Rin’s rattling, almost too
endearing to stand, turning his heart into a mess of delightful, sweet pain. It also made Rin’s
body shiver nicely, and if for nothing else, then for this it was well worth it.
But Haruka couldn’t give a proper answer even if he wanted; he needed yet to find the way
around his own doubts and fears. He was pretty sure, though, that being this close to Rin’s
warmth would help the process very much.
And he was willing to try it.
“You’re cold?” the man asked, and Haruka looked up, surprised by the unexpected question.
Rin’s hand ran up his arm ever so gently, a trace of concern glistening in red eyes as they
studied goose-bumps on Haruka’s skin.
Idiot.
Haruka almost laughed out loud at the stupidity that something like chilly night air could
outfight the scalding warmth of Rin’s body, or the heat caused deep inside by his words.
My stupid, ridiculous idiot.
And he really opened his mouth to say it—or to say at least something—for the first time
since they left the table. But by the time the words were finally about to come out, suddenly
there was yet another distraction, turning Rin’s attention elsewhere.
The sound of the fight inside of the bathroom suddenly intensified as the door swung open,
and out stomped Makoto with face turned into something akin to despair. He flew right in
between the two of them and once in the café turned left instead of right—apparently heading
outside rather then back to the garden.
Haruka stared behind him, too confused to make his legs follow.
“Jane?” Rin’s voice was full of concern as he pushed against the door that Makoto left ajar,
and Haruka automatically followed after him, tied by an invisible chain. “Honey pie, what’s
the matter?”
And then he watched, confused, how the man that just a moment ago had warmed his insides
hugged the weeping girl. She was blabbering some undecipherable answer into Rin’s
shoulder, letting him hide her inside of his safe, long arms.
Making a completely misplaced and childish sting of jealousy hit Haruka’s ribcage.
“I’m taking her home,” Rin murmured into the hollow silence of the room once she seemed
to calm down a bit, adding disappointment to the mixture swirling inside of Haruka’s
stomach.
And he followed them out to the corridor, speechless as always, unduly petrified. Convinced
that nothing could save the night now that Rin was leaving again, the thing between them still
unresolved. Questions not answered, doubts not shed.
His brain still couldn’t wrap around it when Rin whispered something in the girl’s ear and she
nodded, leaving the corridor with slow, unsteady steps.
“I shouldn’t go, right? I should stay, shouldn’t I?” Rin asked, anxiousness filling his words,
and stepped closer again.
And whether it was supposed to be a handshake when the man got a hold of Haruka’s palm or
a very awkward attempt to lace their fingers together, Haruka didn’t know, but it was so
endearing his chest exploded with butterflies—the feeling he’d felt last when Rin’s text
messages had revealed Haruka wasn’t the only one feeling this. He chuckled, squeezing back
tightly.
“Go.” A smile. “Go.”
And he didn’t fight the grin when relief crossed Rin’s face, and definitely not when the man
hastily untied the sleeves of a hoodie, until that moment hanging around his hips.
“Here, put this on,” Rin whispered, pushing it into his hands, and suddenly there was an
almost imperceptible touch of lips on Haruka’s cheek. “I’ll call you. Promise.”
And then, with a last longing glance thrown over his shoulder, he was gone.
Haruka stared behind him long after there was nothing but distant sounds of the packed café
filling his brain, and cold trying to seep through his thin shirt and skin. It came creeping in
immediately, bringing back memories of the nights spent walking around the cold, empty
Iwatobi house.
Like then, like now, Rin’s absence numbed just the same.
But as his eyes turned slowly to the hoodie in his hands, he knew it wasn’t the same this time.
With a single shake of his head he plunged it to his face, inhaling deeply.
Instantly Rin was back; disturbingly tall and so, so warm. Right there with him.
Haruka smiled into the fabric, feeling warmth of the body that only a moment ago wore it.
Yeah, this time it was different. This time Rin was here, staying and not leaving anymore.
And no matter what was about to come, they were going to have tons of opportunities to talk
this thing through.
Breathing in deeply once again Haruka almost missed the sound of heavy steps, fighting
through the fog in his head. It was the voice he expected to hear the least of all at that
moment, making him startle a little and turn his head towards the incomer.
“Sorry to interrupt. But I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
Chapter End Notes
See you very soon, guys!

Chapter 11
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
Sorry it took me so long, in the end. Here's another chapter, hope you like it.
As usual, it's only thanks to amazing marbled_maven, who always manages to bring my
work to a higher level. Thank you so SO much!!
Enjoy, guys!
Little raindrops fell quietly from the night sky, through the thin vapour rising from sewer
hatches, only to gingerly touch quickly wet pavement and roads. They decorated the street
with reflection of the countless bright lights, turning it deftly into a glowing watercolour
painting of night city life.
Offering the onlooker a parody of the non-existent starry sky.
The steps on the concrete behind Haruka fell out of rhythm, picking up the pace. And
although water dulled their sound, it couldn’t rid him of the owner of the heavy shoes just as
easily.
“Can’t you just... damn.”
He didn’t want to lie, no. There was a very precise reason why he was walking down the
street, closely followed by the man. Why he kept moving onward, instead of turning around
and facing the words he didn’t know how to respond to. Pretending he didn’t hear anything,
didn’t know anything.
That is to say—why he was running away.
It was just as while watching TV a disturbing thought appears, or a memory of your long-
forgotten failure re-emerges, filling you instantly with anxiousness and unease. Forces you at
once to grab for a remote control and with a foul taste in your mouth change the station—to
shake off the feeling quickly, set your mind on something else right away.
To forget it as soon as possible—whatever the fleeting thought that didn’t have anything in
common with what you were looking at was.
“Dolphin.” The nickname reflected tensely against the bones of his back, and a hand grabbed
on his arm. “Just wait for a damned second.”
It was just like that now when Haruka’s legs carried him away from the man—a living
reminder of the night that Haruka so didn’t want to remember. Only there wasn’t any TV, but
a human being, and there was no way to change the station to chase the ghosts away.
“I have to find Makoto,” Haruka pushed out, but didn’t move forward, anyway.
He was held by the force of fingers digging into his tissues, after all, and he found himself
being more irritated than he had been for a very long time. Looking up he ripped his arm out
of the deadly grip and fought the need to massage his aching muscle. The big hand returned
slowly to Yamazaki’s side.
Why the idiot was smiling, though, that was a mystery beyond any other.
Blue eyes fell down and lingered for a moment on Rin’s hoodie, still safely folded in
Haruka’s hands. And when Yamazaki’s fingers reached for the little knot on its white string—
the gesture uncomfortable and, for some reason, way too intimate—Haruka took a small step
back.
Hastily pulling the fabric over his head he felt almost embarrassed for such an open
demonstration of who he belonged to. But someone had to set the boundaries now; it was no
time for vagueness.
If anything, though, the man seemed to be only entertained by the sight.
“I see he’s peed all over you, already.”
“Tch.”
Haruka looked to the side, exasperated. Annoyed he was forced to lead this conversation,
rather than running after his best friend, who stubbornly refused to pick up the phone—
something that Makoto had never done before; not once during long years of their friendship.
Irritated to the bone, because he was apparently the reason why Yamazaki was having good
fun, and even more since he didn’t have the slightest idea why.
“Man, it was a joke. Can’t you tell?” the man said, cracking up a little, and shook his head.
“Hell, dolphin. Loosen up a bit.”
A street lamp flickered ludicrously above the two of them as embarrassment churned in
Haruka’s insides, casting light shadows on the pair of blue eyes.
“I really have to find Makoto.”
What the hell was so funny about a situation, in which this idiot forced him to participate by
saying those damned words a few minutes ago?
What was he supposed to laugh about?
Honestly, he had been dreading the moment when the two of them would have to meet again,
and now, when it was here Haruka genuinely didn’t know what better to do than to get away
immediately.
Because there was a time, during one particular night and the morning after, when he had
thought Rin was gone for good. That he wasn’t ever going to come back—the single piece of
information that hollowed and then sorely turned into dread upon finally realizing about
Rin’s disappearance.
And yeah, damn it, he knew he had had every right to think about other possibilities then—
about other people to keep around, so he wouldn’t be so fucking lonely for the rest of his life.
He also knew that he hadn’t really done anything to feel guilty for; no matter what Jane had
accused him of later.
Haruka desperately wanted to believe there was no need to be judgmental about the way he
depended on Yamazaki’s presence then.
It had hurt like a motherfucker then, after all.
“Look, dolphin. Am I pretending this is love, or anything close? No. I didn’t propose to you,
for crying out loud. I just said I might like you. Since you’re not an idiot I’m sure you knew
that already.” Yamazaki breathed in deeply, eyes sparkling. “You have my interest is all.”
So what was Haruka so scared of then?
Of having consequences of his own actions thrown into his face? Of reliving memories that
filled him with anguish and qualms?
Probably.
Because he might try to convince himself of whatever, but one thing was sure: this
conversation would never have taken place if he hadn’t spent that disastrous night on the
couch at Yamazaki’s place. If he hadn’t used the man’s arms on the kitchen floor of Anna’s
father’s house earlier that day—for comfort; for having a feeling he was not completely alone
in this sick world.
And of course he couldn’t—couldn’t even consider giving Yamazaki’s confession a second

thought now. And he would never—not now when Rin was back and staying. Touching
Haruka’s skin just a few minutes ago.
An alarming thought crept inside of his brain anyway, as a car passed the street; the beat of
the music loud and annoying even through the closed windows.
Because who knew what would have happened if Rin had stayed in Sydney, in the end. If that
race had never happened, and Haruka had never been in his arms today.
It was a hypothetical reality—nothing more, really.
The bottom line was things could’ve turned out that way too easily.
“I can’t,” Haruka pushed out with a small, but resolute head-shake after a solid while of
silence that felt very, very awkward.
But maybe it was nothing but his own feeling, after all.
Because when Yamazaki spoke again, it was surprisingly warm and collected, bringing
Haruka’s eyes up to him.
“Well, you either think I’m stupid, or blind... and, honestly, I don’t know which one is
worse.”
The man chuckled, covering his growing smile with his big hand.
“You think I didn’t see you two fools tonight? Hell, I must’ve been a total nut to think you’d
give me a second look when you have him around. Which I’m not, obviously.” Amusement
shortly crossed blue eyes before he continued, this time in a voice confident and strong. “You
know, I didn’t tell you because I expect something from you. I told—”
The question, born naturally after the unfinished statement left the man’s mouth, was
promptly forced to die on Haruka’s lips. The phone ringing momentarily turned his attention
away; finally—after too many missed calls—coming out of his pocket.
He pushed the button offhand, recognizing his best friend on the display.
“Makoto.”
“Haru, I... I’m... Can you?”
There was an emotion shaking that familiar voice—of the kind that Haruka had never heard
in his best friend’s voice before. Nothing more was needed to make hair on his body stand on
alert.
“Where?”
“Bus stop? Around hundred metres down the street.”
“Wait there.”
The look on Yamazaki’s face said he was not following the fast track of the phone
conversation once it ended, but that was just alright. No one could, really. This was only his
and Makoto’s thing, and no other person—not even the two of them, probably—knew how
deep it ran.
“I have to go.”
Nodding to the muted man Haruka sidestepped him and moved onward. Determined to forget
this nonsensical speech of his and all its uncomfortable content.
“You know, dolphin,” the man said after Haruka’s back, and his words danced lightly over
the concrete pavement. “You could do as much as keep your ass still until I say what I want,
don’t you think? Instead of bailing out like a chick in a soap opera all the time.”
Teasing words resonated within Haruka’s brain, forcing him to slow down and then stop. To
stare petulantly at the reflection of the red bicycle stands in a darkened window of a closed
book store.
But the man didn’t seem to be done, not by a long shot.
“Like really. It’s a shame we don’t have cameras for dramatic close-ups every time we’re
together.”
Haruka narrowed his eyes, snapping his head quickly to the man.
Meeting pair of bold, blue eyes staring right at him.
“Cut it out.”
And there the man suddenly grinned—daringly and like a winner of a hundred meter race.
Haruka rolled his eyes, irked by the way the man didn’t seem to intend to leave him alone.
The way Yamazaki kept provoking him most the time, repeatedly and very obstinately, dared
him to leave the melancholic view he so liked to bask in behind.
Which was, for the lack of other words, annoying and very aggravating.
Mostly highly upsetting, though, for how easily the man was succeeding.
And it was obviously also the only way to get over a topic as such without drowning in
melodrama.
Not that Haruka could help it—he was honestly starting to think there was a red switch in his
brain, turning the rationality off every time Rin laid his foot in the same country.
I’m really turning into a damned girl, am I not?
“So what is it?” he asked after a while, knowing all too well it sounded far less pissed off
than he wanted it to. “Just spit it out fast.”
He was genuinely shocked, as he watched the man push his hands into the pockets of his
pants and take a few casual steps towards him, how the anxiousness he had felt just a second
ago dissipated momentarily like thin vapour rising from the wet road into the night air.
There was indeed something calming about the man—with his weird sense of humour, which
seemed to always put a stop to Haruka’s restless and funeral-like thoughts—like an efficient
relaxing pill.
It was the exact opposite of the effect Rin’s presence had on him—with excitement running
through his veins like gasoline waiting to be set afire—but it was surprisingly fresh and a
pleasant feeling.
“Let’s go, Makoto’s waiting for you, isn’t he?” Big hand turned Haruka around and pushed
gently, but resolutely forward. A beat of silence preceded the following words. “All I want is
to stay around. Around both of you, to be specific. Rin’s my best buddy, no matter what he
thinks I am to him now, and you just happened to be a really interesting guy. And I do respect
what you two idiots have, although, honestly, I don’t think the way you’re going is
sustainable.”
Haruka watched the man look to the side with an unreadable expression on his face, and tried
to push down promptly born uneasiness.
Why did Yamazaki feel the need to make comments like this when he was finally starting to
breathe easily, that was really beyond him.
“Rin has totally cut me off lately, and although he’s acting like everything’s fine, I know him
too well to eat it for a second. He’s all touchy even over the mentioning of your name,
changing the topic immediately. Basically he’s being a jealous dumbass far more than any
time before. So talking about you and things that... happened,” Yamazaki said quietly,
looking into Haruka’s face, and as his eyes turned cloudy and serious they both knew the
unwanted memory of the night, after they left the mansion together, floated in the night air
between them like a ghost. “It would most likely end up with me in a body bag.”
Yamazaki let out a long breath and chuckled darkly, looking up to the clouded sky.
“Which I’d rather not.”
He side-glanced at Haruka, the corner of his mouth rising playfully.
The man spoke teasingly, and with a snap of his fingers could turn an awkward conversation
into good friends’ leisure talk—something Haruka would’ve never pulled off on his own.
And despite every game that the man had played with him before, for some reason it felt this
time it was indeed honest.
He just hoped he wasn’t terribly mistaken.
“So?” Haruka asked after a solid while of speechless walking down the street.
“So.” The man blinked, returning back to reality, and pointed towards a lit-up glass bus stop.
Makoto’s tall frame leaned against the side of it with head lowered, making Haruka’s insides
churn with concern. “That’s why I told you I like you. I only wanted to clear the air. To be
allowed to call you, or text you, and just... not feel awkward about it. To hang out, you know
what I mean.”
And the self-assured smile was back as he halted, obviously not intending to go any further,
and looked at Haruka from his fine height.
“Don’t worry, I don’t plan to throw myself at you.”
Haruka puffed and shook his head, but he was genuinely entertained by the impossible turn
of the conversation. Kicking a pebble on the ground he didn’t even try to pretend otherwise
as he looked up and spoke.
“You better not.”

The man turned around with a last smile, and threw casually over his shoulder. “Tell Makoto
I say hi.”
He would be gone in a second or two, leaving Haruka alone with his best friend wearing the
most miserable expression he’d ever seen on his face, and his own little unstable world.
And just like that—without Rin’s presence, or Yamazaki’s idiotic jokes—it was a matter of
no more than a few seconds until Haruka’s uneasiness was back. Sneaking inside like a dull
echo of the past.
He took a step forward, senselessly following after the man.
Needing to hear that what Yamazaki had said about him and Rin was nothing more than
another try to ridicule the serious debate.
“Why are we not... sustainable?”
He took a deep breath, waiting for the man to stop and turn around again. And he did, in the
end, blinking and hesitating. Obviously surprised by the unexpected question.
It was an innocent one, though, wasn’t it?
There was no need to take it too seriously.
Haruka most certainly wasn’t going to get a sophisticated analysis of his and Rin’s
imperfections and past mistakes, right?
Right?
But where he hoped to get another grin, or at least a little smile to make it less weighty, there
was nothing but a cautious, careful look in the teal eyes, turning them into two hard stones.
As if Haruka was being observed, evaluated—maybe in order to find out if he really did want
that answer, or not.
And as the man finally opened his mouth, Haruka understood with a horrifying feeling that
asking was the most colossal mistake he’d made in a long time.
“Well,” Yamazaki started, shifting his feet slightly. “I told you once you two know nothing
about each other, and I still think so. The fact that you’ve been something like friends for
years, or that—judging by tonight—you’re gonna end up in bed together by tomorrow
afternoon at the latest doesn’t really make any difference.”
The lamp up the street flickered for the last time behind Yamazaki’s head, making one of the
fake stars disappear from Haruka’s field of vision.
“If you really want to know, I think it’s gonna go south between you two, sooner or later. And
not because of me or the girl, although I’m sure that she, unlike me, is gonna help as much as
she can.”
Just like that, the street went quiet.
It was weird, really, because how could the world make not a single sound? Like over there
on the other side of the road, a wooden container soundlessly fell out of an old baker’s hands,
crashing to the pavement.
Or another car, silently passing down the street—as if it drove over a thick carpet rather than
the asphalt road.
Haruka stood there, astonished by the sudden deafness, watching the man’s retreating back.
Scalded by the harsh words that sounded too much like those born in his own head.
“Haru?”
With a jolt he turned around—an unexpected sound shooting through his brain painfully—
and met Makoto’s bleary eyes.
And he didn’t know if it was more for himself or his best friend, but he crossed the short
distance quickly and curled his arms tightly around the tall man. A shaky sigh came out next
to his ear, and then, for a fleeting second—just before Makoto’s hands tapped his shoulders
and pushed him gently away—a hot, wet cheek touched the top of Haruka’s head.
A silent, wordless thank you.
“I forgot the subway map.”
“Let’s go,” Haruka said silently, deliberately looking away from his best friend’s tear-
streaked face. “I’ve got mine.”
Although it was already past midnight and tomorrow was a regular working day, the street
was still filled with cars and people. And either it was the unstoppable commotion of the city
around, or the night air, refreshed by the light sprinkle that had already ended by the time
they were approaching the subway station, something seemed to calm Makoto down.
Haruka didn’t want to ask.
He didn’t feel like talking at all. Not when Yamazaki’s prediction kept hanging above his
head—and his best friend looked just about the same. He was sure, knowing Makoto’s
default politeness, that he would answer. What’s more, it would be as close to reality as his
gentleness allowed.
But Rin’s nonsensical words wanted to be remembered; and if Makoto’s and Jane’s fall-out
really had something in common with Haruka—which was so unlikely it almost made him
laugh—well then he would get just about nothing from his best friend’s vague answer,
anyway.
In any case, there was surely a better way of showing he cared than talking, which was an art
that Haruka was sure was impossible to master.
So he did what he could: nudged his best friend’s shoulder. Once, and then again, only
stronger, when at first he got no reaction.
And there it was: the littlest of smiles—just a tiny, poor movement of Makoto’s lips—but still
better than none. A short-lived victory of Haruka’s miserable comforting abilities, as it turned
out, since in a second it was gone again. He pursed his lips, looking around the station’s signs
for a clue.
He would never say he was going to find it so easily, but as his eyes scanned a popular fast
food chain’s ad on the wall, Haruka felt more than dumb for not getting the idea sooner.
“I think I’m going to ask mother for the recipe for those butter croissants she baked some
time ago,” he said while stepping on the escalators, and waited for blinking Makoto to join
him. “I kind of liked them.”
It took his best friend a short while of confused staring at the moving wall, but eventually the
green eyes turned to him. With a little spark, and then naturally followed by an almost
imperceptible tick in Makoto’s left nostril.
“You would?”
Of course, damn, it was so apparent. Maybe Haruka didn’t know much about people’s brains
and how they worked, but what he was pretty certain about was that good food was a very
easy way to make them happy. Maybe a stupid one, but also very effective.
More so when it was their favourite; and he hadn’t forgotten how Makoto drooled over his
mother’s continental breakfast, which she bothered to prepare for them no more than that one
time—it would surely be a huge bother to swap with him at the stove at least once more,
wouldn’t it?
Especially when she was really good at it; that much Haruka really couldn’t deny.
When he nodded, the air floating around the man felt somewhat lighter. And as he dared to
glance at Makoto’s face, he was almost shocked by the knowing, soft smile in his direct look.
Haruka shrugged, putting up an overly innocent face, and waited until the sound of Makoto’s
silent laughter reached his ears.
Of course he saw right through him—how could he not, after all. But it didn’t matter.
If it worked, then it worked either way.
And it was an almost imperceptible nod, motioning to Haruka’s chest, as well as the way his
friend’s eyebrows rose playfully in a mute question, that made Haruka’s ears go red in an
instant. His hand shot automatically upward, pulling on the sleeve of Rin’s too-big hoodie.
He tried his best to shrug nonchalantly, and pretended to search for the quickly approaching,
whistling subway car in the black dark hole in the wall.
“It’s still cold outside.”

“It sure is,” Makoto let out with a serious expression, nodding resolutely, but it was as far
from believable as it could be. “The wind and, uhm, the rain.”
“Yeah, the rain, definitely,” Haruka agreed immediately. “It’s horrible.”
He let the smile reach his eyes as he boarded the car after Makoto’s wide back. And it was
still there later that night as they both finished the warm cup of chamomile tea that Haruka
placed on the nightstand. There weren’t any missed calls on his phone when he finally turned
the lights out and lay down to sleep next to an unmoving, but still wide awake, Makoto, but it
wasn’t the end of the world.
Both knew, waiting for the night to be finally over, that tomorrow was yet another day.
And whatever was going to happen, whichever smartass tried to play a fortune-teller, the two
of them had each other’s backs.
It felt just fine.
***
Matsuoka Rin :
[ Good morning :))) 06:53 ]
[ To you too. 06:59 ]
[ Slept well? Had a nice dream? What about? :)) 07:03 ]
[ Too many questions too early in the morning. 07:16 ]
[ Haha, okay :)) See u in five hours, thirty and smt minutes ;) 07:22 ]
Staring into the cold hollowness of an old machine, Haruka closed his eyes for a second and
sighed. The empty, stained fridge shelves screamed it was going to be not just a never-ending
school and work day, but also an awfully hungry morning.
Yet the irritation didn’t show up, strange as it was.
“Nagisa.” He slammed the fridge door anyway; someone obviously needed a lesson badly. “It
was your turn to buy groceries yesterday.”
The blond hopped gleefully behind his back in the direction of the bathroom without a single
look thrown his way, humming a distantly familiar song. Happily oblivious to the fact he was
going to be preached to.
“No it wasn’t.” The bathroom door closed with a soft thud, and something like 'Makoto’s
turn' fought over the sound of water falling into a sink.
Bent above the books scattered over the kitchen table, his best friend seemed to find Nagisa’s
lie innocent enough to be funny. Haruka shook his head, for some unknown reason smiling
too, and asked a bit louder than he normally would. “When is he leaving, again?”
The blond’s horrified exclamation came clear and comprehensible this time as the water
sound instantly stopped, and it was more than a good thing that Nagisa’s following offended
words made Makoto titter into the papers. “That was pretty awful even for you, Haru-chan.”
Haruka turned to the sink loaded with unwashed dishes, hastily digging for his phone again.
[ Be on time, Matsuoka. 07:29 ]
[ Eager to see me? ;) 07:30 ]
[ Shut up. 07:31 ]
[ Don’t let it go to your head. 07:32 ]
[ Nanase. for real, that’s easily the most beautiful thing u ever said to me :D 07:34 ]
“You’re in a good mood, today,” Makoto said to his back, smiling sadly from under
overgrown fringe.
Haruka shrugged while lowering himself on the kitchen chair across him, deliberately
ignoring the question contained in the statement. He rather looked his friend’s face over—
visible traces of exhaustion showed around the green eyes and mouth, making him look much
older than their age.
He didn’t have to ask.
It was obvious in the way Makoto’s hold on the pen in his palm grew stronger, knuckles
turning white, and his eyes fell back down on the table. He expected to be questioned sooner
or later, but he also wasn’t ready to share.
“I—not yet, Haru, okay?” the man whispered, swallowing thickly. “Just... not yet.”
Haruka nodded, hesitating for a while. Because, yeah, he would willingly respect Makoto’s
privacy, just like he always did. On the other hand, though, he didn’t forget that his best
friend was always ready to do his first and last when the situation was reversed not too long
ago.
He had seen Makoto around girls many times before. The man was, after all, the biggest
gentleman out there, no doubt. And although for a random onlooker it might have been hard
to tell where the man’s inborn friendliness ended and something more of an interest started,
Haruka was pretty sure he could spot the difference immediately.
Truth be told, his best friend had had his fair share of infatuations over the years—mostly
unrequited, though; none lasting too long.
But it had never been like this before.
This time Makoto was simply, stupidly, awfully in love, and, although hardly believing it
himself, Haruka could very much understand how it felt.
Also how easily it could shred you to pieces on a whim.
With a wave of guilt washing over him he realized he didn’t pay too much attention to
Makoto’s state of mind during the two weeks of Rin’s absence—living in his own dreamy,
sleeping world, he most certainly wasn’t the best of friends.
He didn’t even have the slightest idea that he and Jane had problems until yesterday’s fall out.
Now it was probably too late to start, but he could at least try.
He reached out and squeezed the firm shoulder tightly, being rewarded with a gloomy nod.
He let go soon, though, just as Nagisa’s wet, freshly showered head emerged from behind the
bathroom door. There was no need to attract the blond’s intense and very much annoying
attention to his best friend’s problems when he had enough problems as it went.
“Go get groceries,” Haruka said flatly after the slim back, which quickly disappeared in
Makoto’s room, and pursed his lips when he, once again, got no answer.
Where was Rei, when one needed him the most? There wasn’t any other human being
walking this planet who could make Nagisa listen and obey.
[ You’re a pain. :-) 07:41 ]
[ Oh shit, did u just use an emoji?! are your fingers alright??? 07:43 ]
[ Idiot. 07:45 ]
[ :DD 07:46 ]
[ :-) 07:47 ]
The words that came out of Makoto’s room were distorted, probably muffled by clothes
pulled over the blond’s head.
“Maybe if Haru-chan stopped staring and grinning at his phone all the time, he would
remember I am a guest, and those don’t get ordered around.”
The comment made Haruka reach hastily for the phone, lying on the table in front of him. It
did slide into his pants’ pocket just in time before Nagisa joined them at the table, but it was
too late to avoid the short hoarse laughter from his best friend’s side.
Haruka cringed slightly over the odour of the football jersey with Osaka’s name on it that
Nagisa apparently intended to wear the whole day until the match started, and rather stood
up, finally heading to collect his things for school, training, and work.
But his friend was indeed right, that much he could hardly deny; he had become a technology
slave. It was one of the things he would have never expected to happen to him, since there
was a time, not so long ago, when that damn device rested peacefully turned off on his book
shelf, and it didn’t even cross his mind to look at it.
But it could hardly be avoided.
What started as masochistic and self-tormenting, never-ending digging for a clue in Rin’s e-
mails, now turned into electrifying excitement running up his spine every time the phone
buzzed. Maybe it was the feeling he was somehow closer to Rin that way.
And no, he didn’t give in to every urge to tap each question or every stupidity that crossed his
mind during the day.
But the knowledge that he could, if he wanted—and it would get him an immediate answer—
was what made the day much better than all those before.
Nagisa stomped into the common room after him, bouncing on his heels. Wearing a
mischievous, very suspicious smile—a realization that Haruka made as he turned around after
a solid while of weird silence.
“Is it alright if Rei-chan comes over tonight to watch Columbia?”
Haruka looked the short man over and went back to pushing books into his backpack. The
question was strange, indeed, since Rei spent most of the nights at their place, anyway—
those, during which the poor guy wasn’t dragged by Nagisa through every amusement park in
the city. Especially since the World Cup started, and it was apparently going to stay like that
until he returned back to Kyoto.
“Makoto’s exams start tomorrow.”
“Oh, I don’t mind, really,” his best friend mumbled above the books from the kitchen. “It’s
the last match, anyway.”
“Hey, now.” Nagisa’s small frame bouncing with energy on the threshold stopped and turned,
obviously irritated. “Makoto, you’re so pessimistic all the time! You know you have to cheer
much, much better. Because our boys are going to slaughter them tonight. We’re gonna stay
in the game, and you’re gonna apologize to me once we’re watching Japan – Brazil right here
on this TV.”
Haruka raised his eyebrows over the short man’s naivety and shook his head slightly. Not that
their team didn’t have any chance, but he knew enough to not keep his hopes high for tonight.
“Anyway, Haru-can,” the pink-eyed man said in a considerably huskier voice and leaned
back—as if controlling if Makoto paid them any attention. Something hung in the air, and he
could swear it was yet another brilliant plan. “I just talked to Jane over the phone—”
“You what?" Haruka interrupted, books in his hands halted mid-air as he straightened up,
glaring.
“Shhh, keep it down.” Nagisa looked back in the direction of the kitchen, waiting for a few
seconds while Haruka fought the need to smack the blond head as strongly as possible. “I
wasn’t prying... mostly... but she wouldn’t tell me anything about Makoto anyway. But I
found out something else. Something about Anna.”
Haruka sighed, annoyed to the brim, and shook his head in disbelief.
He didn’t even want to start thinking about the way Nagisa came to know Jane’s phone
numbe—but he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave his own phone just lying around unattended
anymore.
“It seems like she was staying with her father at some summer house, or something, but now
returned back because of Rin, and Jane implied that the girl’s thinking about ditching the
school in Sydney, and that Anna’s not doing very well after—and now listen closely—after
Rin said he started to look for a place to live. I don’t know what she was thinking—that he’s
gonna live with her and her father even after dumping her, or what?”
“Go get those groceries.” Haruka jumped into the way too long, nonsensical stream, heading
to the front door.
He had just about enough of information for one morning.
“Pff. Talk about gratitude, Haru-chan.” A heavy eye-roll preceded bitter word. “Fine.”
And it was when the door almost closed behind him that the blond’s yell made his hand stop
on the handle for a moment, making the aversion against the blond ease more than just a
little.
“Bring Rin, tonight, will you?”
Haruka’s lips stretched into a crooked, amused smile as he descended the stairs, his mind
half-way on the training that wasn’t going to start before he’d sat through all school
obnoxiousness, no matter how much he wanted to push the clock forward.
Nagisa might go way too far playing match-maker most of the time, but no one could deny
that his plans had quite positive outcomes.
Sometimes, that is.

***
“Where the hell have you all been stuck for so long? Did none of you deaf idiots hear my
whistle like half an hour ago?”
The whole locker room—up to that moment chanting 'Japan' like the hoard of crazy
dumbasses they were—turned paralyzed for a short moment when the door flew open and the
small man fell in like bad news on an easy Sunday morning. It took only one disgusted purse
of Hirai’s lips to turn half the room into a whirlwind of shirts, jammers, and swimming caps;
Japanese flags falling on benches like red leaves.
The rest, not belonging to his privileged group, snickered over the craziness that spread like
an epidemic from one man to another.
Those grins did not last them long, though.
“I mean all of you, idiots. The classification tests have been moved to tomorrow early
morning. Good news, everyone. I just got the memo, so don’t go piss on my head,” the short
man said, looking somewhat bothered and jittery himself. And just before he turned on his
heel a short smack of his notes ended on the head of an astonished, jaw-slacked swimmer.
“Anyone not in the pool in two minutes exactly can pack his things straight.”
The door slammed behind him, leaving the locker room in a complete and utterly horrified,
deafening silence.
Haruka pulled his goggles over his head slowly, letting them hang loosely around his neck,
and it was probably the only movement among the petrified statues in various stages of
clothes’ changing. Even the tense faces of The Princesses spoke that they, too, just heard
about the news for the first time.
But unlike the rest, they stayed calm when the bomb finally exploded—the looks they kept
exchanging the only sign of shock—and then slowly returned to their preparations. Probably
already familiar with the man’s unpredictable treatment, they were trained to not get worked
up over things like this.
Even if it wasn’t really Hirai’s fault this time.
The walls and ceiling shook with numerous expletives, and while emotions reflected against
lockers like sharp bullets Haruka’s eyes turned right, searching for the pair of red ones.
The only person Haruka cared about hid behind a metallic locker door, though, pretending to
search for something that was not to be found there. A cap fell out of it right to the ground,
and his eyes followed the hand that reached for it.
Its fingers shook a little, making Haruka’s heart twitch with worry.
“You alright?” he asked silently, words hidden under the cover of clamour around.
Red eyes rose up to him, and there was a short moment of hesitation before the confident,
toothy grin spilled over Rin’s face like an iron mask.
Closed up, inaccessible, arrogant.
“What? Why you asking?”
Haruka’s insides twitched with irritation, and he felt his eyebrows rise up to the ceiling.
Like really?
Deciding on a simple shake of his head after a while of incredulous staring, he forced his
lingering eyes back to his own locker and let the question pass without answer.
Had the idiot really learned nothing during those last weeks?
Dammit.
The bare feet next his own shifted hesitantly, but he didn’t dare look at the man again. What
for? He rather stepped aside to make place for Hagino’s skinny friend, hurrying through the
locker room like a rally car. The boy made a beeline to the door, a laughably horrified
expression on his face, asking everybody around if they had seen his best friend.
Hirai’s two minutes were almost done, and swimmers were still only hastily leaving through
the door when Haruka decided that all made-up reasons to prolong waiting for Rin were
finally gone. He had changed and folded all his things so tidily it would have passed through
the army’s control, checked his goggles and cap a hundred times.
Whatever kept the man from leaving, he obviously wasn’t willing to share.
And Haruka wasn’t ready, wasn’t calm and alert enough himself. With a growing need he
stared at the door, separating him from the soothing relief of the pool’s water. He needed it
more than he had in a long time.
To get rid of the suddenly appeared irk, caused by the sudden news; to get himself together
quickly. To take a breath by being engulfed by something familiar.
But it was too late; the thought was already there, oblivious to his will. A flashing warning
sign on the inner side of his skull.
He’s not ready.
The locker door slammed with a soft thud as he moved to follow after the last swimmers,
lungs uncooperative, the text messages exchanged with the man this very morning twisting in
his mind like a tornado.
He’d never gotten a good-morning text before. Who would send anything like that to him,
anyway?
It was a treatment unknown, but so, so easy to get used to.

A needed pick-me-up, a sweetness alive.
Now, this—it was just too soon. Too soon to cope with things like Qatar, and stress, and a
possible—quite probable, to be honest—failure. Rin didn’t have time enough to find his way
back to the pool yet, least to say be thrown into the whirlwind of tests and competition and
other shit.
And Haruka didn’t have time enough, not in the least, to find even a semblance of idea what
he was going to do about the two of them.
As his palm got a hold of the door knob he wished it could be just as easy as navigating
through the Tokyo subway system; with a map in your hand and the whole army of signs on
the walls.
Because, damn.
What was he going to do if Rin didn’t succeed? If the man tried and failed, anyway. If he
decided, after all, that it was not really worth it?
That this life with Haruka was impossible to keep.
The door opened, sounds of the natatorium hitting his ears like jungle drums, and then closed
back, slowly.
Because there were fingers curled around the wrist of his right hand, keeping him behind,
gently, ever-so-lightly.
And it was as if they where nothing but small boys again when he looked back and the brazen
smile wavered and disappeared. Just for a fleeting moment, really—a hundredth of a second,
no more—Rin allowed him to see. The cool facade shook and fell down as the man blinked;
the milky wall covering turmoil inside turned bright clear, revealing everything.
What started somewhere around nervousness, ended at outright panic—reflecting Haruka’s

own like a mirror.
And he had no idea what he was supposed to do while the hold on his wrist was getting
stronger by every second—a wordless demand to stop it all, to make everything alright. He
had no idea at all how to do such a thing, not when his own chest already exploded under the
weight of doubts.
So he just went with the current; a thoughtless reaction led by a painfully contracting heart.
Quickly glance around the empty locker room, turn around swiftly. Place hands on both sides
of the head, press foreheads firmly together.
Wait there; wait just like that. Wait until the series of soft, jerky nods show he was fully
understood.
We’ll be fine.
The door to the locker room opened and someone walked in, but the two of them were
already moving apart then. Without another look Haruka headed to the natatorium, shaken
and scared, but certain he was closely followed.
There was no need for a plea, spoken in unsteady voice, no 'stay by my side', no other cliché.
Not between the both of them, not anymore.
And, within the sharp ruckus of a natatorium, everything felt indeed better.
Easier with Rin; everything was easier with Rin by his side.
“Okay, tadpoles.” Hirai took in a breath tiredly, staring into his notes and rubbing his cheek,
and motioned towards the starting blocks. “I want to see what your chances are before that
committee representative gal gets her fancy shoes here tomorrow. Make sure you show me
your best. Gonna start with 200 meters, free. Matsuoka—one, Asuke—two, Nanase—three,
Hagino—four...”
The small man continued to assign lanes to swimmers while Haruka walked to his starting
block, barely focused to search for the number three, and started to stretch his arms. One after
another swimmers tapped past him, finding their own places—faces sour, fallen, or outright
terrified.
“Where’s Hagino and Akiha?” Hirai yelled while walking right behind his back,
uncharacteristic nervousness making his already hoarse voice even sharper. But it was a firm
slap on Haruka’s shoulder, preceding his following words to the team, which shocked him
more. “Where the hell are their fucking majesties? Can somebody explain this to me?”
The hand was gone in an instant, leaving astonishment in its stead.
Because with that small, subtle gesture he was being encouraged; he was being trusted.
Rin’s face was closed up again when Haruka searched his eyes to pass the message, an
unreadable expression crossing it like a ghost as he bent down for his own warm-up. The
man waved to the bleachers with a tense, almost non-existent smile, and Haruka anchored his
eyes to the concrete block in front of him.
Damn if he was going to see and let it take the fragile confidence from his hands.
He rather lowered his head, trying to force his mind to focus on anything else but the girl in
the bleachers. On the pain in his stretching calves. Cooling tiles under his feet. The beating of
his own heart in veins on his temples.
The sound of Hirai’s choleric spree, reflecting against the walls of the natatorium.
On the only important fact—a certainty that they both could do it. That they both had it in
themselves. That they could make it through the tests, no problem.
They could, when the most rigorous trainer in all of Japan thought so.
“Hey, man. That your girlfriend?” The question shot unexpectedly through the air, travelled
over the water of the pool to the other side and back, hitting Haruka’s chest like a baseball
bat.
Haruka’s head snapped in the direction of Hagino, leniently taking the place between him and
another member of the elite crew. The star swimmer grinned at tense-faced Rin, composed
and calm, oblivious to Haruka’s deadly stare.
“We all saw you in front of the building with her. Damn sexy chick, I have to give that to
you.”
It made him feel sick instantly, it made him want to throw up; to take that stupid idiot around
his idiotic neck and squeeze until he stopped breathing on the tile floor.
Was he never going to get rid of her?
What was he supposed to do to get a moment of peace at least here?
The pool was Haruka’s world, and she had no fucking right to be where she was now.
The natatorium shook with the laughter of Hagino and the other swimmers listening closely
to their exchange—a feeling the missed joke was on them turned out to be true as the
laughing man’s face turned to him.
Haruka kept staring forward, petrified that a reaction of any kind would only encourage them
further.
“You heard that? You didn’t, did you? Eito here says he’d do her if she didn’t look like
Nanase with long hair.” A heavy laugh reverberated the walls as Haruka’s heart convulsed.
All the more then when Rin smacked his lips at the laughing swimmer, disgusted.
“You watch your filthy mouth, 'kay?” A sigh, and then the man pulled on his bicep, coolly.
“She’s a lady.”
Dammit.
Why now, of all times?
Why did he have to listen about Anna when the only thing Haruka was supposed to focus on
was the alluring water body in front of him.
He opened his eyes wide, a sickening hum in his ears, and prayed for the sound of a whistle
to order them up to the starting blocks to come soon. And when it did, in the end, Haruka
didn’t wait for anything. He launched up, pulling his goggles down.
“Oi, man. Easy there.” Hagino’s cap was on his place when he smiled Rin’s way, but Haruka
simply knew, as the words left the man’s mouth, that they were, in fact, meant for someone
else.
“It’s okay if you don’t mind.”
Though Haruka didn’t have a slightest idea what he was supposed to do with the befuddling
information.
Taking his position, unsteady and with dew starting to gather on the inner sides of his
goggles, Haruka wished the azure depths of the pool could become his only focal point.
But of course it couldn’t.
Because there was only a handful and then a few things that Haruka had truly wanted since
the time he was born. Over the years they shrunk into a pitiful tree, and no normal grown-up
person should have his mind occupied by water, swimming, and one damned man all the
fucking time.
And it was not so long ago, when none of those 'things' wanted him; when none of them
bothered to speak with him; they left him all alone and miserable.
Learning to live without them seemed to be the only way to exist then, so he wouldn’t go
mad altogether. To pull up a brick wall and hide behind it, to find the way to defend.
Then it was almost easy to tell himself how damn smart it was to just deal with being thrown
off of the team, or to be rejected by the water.
To turn away from the kiss that he was dying for for too long.
But when Rin bent and took his position, and his strangely focused face turned in Hagino’s
direction, a wondering stare flew past Haruka’s face like an arrow. And it hit him just as
much when silence of a readying race was finally interrupted by the sound of Rin pulling on
the string of his goggles, and a flat, confident voice.
“Actually. She’s just my ex.”
Haruka blinked behind the glass, realizing with surprise that the girl sitting up in the
bleachers suddenly didn’t have so much of an effect on him.
Because if Rin had the strength to ignore the teasing—or the mocking of the swimmer,
depending on how you put it—so easily, then he had it too.
And although he had no clue where that power to face it all had initially been born; whether
in his chest, or in Rin’s own; it didn’t matter, in the end.
The blueness of water stared back at him, inviting, and for the first time he fully understood
that the reason to hold back from the man—as dangerous as he was because of the way he
held Haruka in the palm of his hand—was nothing more than his own yellow streak.
He would swear there was the smallest of smiles on those beautiful lips just before the sound
of the whistle pushed his own legs off of the starting block with the strongest kick of his life.
***
It had taken no less than five failed legitimate attempts and one made-up excuse to get from
Old Ita’s shop half an hour earlier, ending with ten unfinished carvings, which were going to
wait for him tomorrow anyway. The amount of the old man’s aggravation—immeasurable.
Sixty-five steps up from the station’s underground, leading alongside broken escalators. No
more than ten minutes of constant walking through the crowded street. Approximately three
airplanes crossed the sky during that time, one bicycle surpassed him with a soft 'ding'.
At least four white-gloved policemen directed jammed traffic at the busy crossroad on
Hakusan-dori, blocked by two and a half crashed cars.
Two smiles from strangers wearing Japanese football outfits, thankfully not as sweaty as
Nagisa’s. One barking dog, looking far more like a cat than anything else, throwing hateful
glares his way as he dared to look at it.
A few turnings of a key in the lock of his condo, fifty and some wild heart beats.
Two confused blinks on his side of the door frame, uncountable rich expletives on the other.
One red smear flashing through his field of vision.
“There,” Nagisa said flatly, wide pink eyes full of not-so-much-hidden meaning. Finally
letting go of Rin’s shoulders, he pushed the man farther into the hallway. “You’ve got twenty
minutes until the match starts. Go buy those groceries, Haru-chan. I forgot. Oops.”
Two pairs of eyes looking at each other in complete disbelief.
The lights went out with a loud click of an old generator, leaving them both in complete
darkness. And then one half-amused, half-shocked chuckle made Haruka’s stomach turn
upside down and grin somewhere in the approximate direction of his shoes.
Damned little brat.
Several shaky breaths later Haruka heard the man clear his throat awkwardly, a sound so
roaring within the sudden silence it easily won over the clicking of the keys in his own hands.
“Well.” Rin’s warm, laughing voice reverberated air particles, at last, way too close to
Haruka’s burning forehead. “Seems we have no other choice.”
And maybe it was a bit unfair when Haruka took a step closer, fingers accidentally brushing
naked skin of the man’s upper arm as he reached blindly into the dark, but it was definitely
not his fault the light switch was exactly where it was.
Not at all.
When light flooded the hallway again he found that their faces were, in fact, a little too close
for it to be a coincidence. Not that he minded it all that much. It was Rin’s turn to blink
stupidly and swallow now, red hue of his irises intensifying tenfold as Haruka straightened
back and spoke silently.
“It seems like it.”
And maybe in the short moment of the following quietness, filled with nothing more than
staring—grins slowly fading out on both sides—something was going to happen. Maybe, had
he been a bit more patient with the man.
But in the moment Rin’s warm face started to move forward, he was already turning away,
awkward and jittery like an embarrassed fourteen-year-old boy.
Dammit.
It took him a while before he finally remembered how to bend his knees in order to start
descending the stairs, which he had just gone up—as if he hadn’t had enough working out for
one day. With barely suppressed face-palm Haruka pondered what the man was thinking
about as they took stair after stair down—sounds of Rin’s sneakers against the concrete
behind him soft and a little hesitant.
He wondered if he, too, was so gigantically aware of how quickly this 'something ' was
progressing, oblivious to the fact it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do.
Also of the fact that they just missed the perfect opportunity for a kiss.
It took one exasperated sigh from behind to make him glance back, only to find Rin wiping
his face vigorously. The man quickly replaced his hands with a crooked smile, though, and
sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.
So the answer was 'yes', obviously.
Haruka suppressed a snicker, pushing against the building door, letting the chilly night air
cool his face down a bit.
Not that it had any chance to work, unfortunately.
And it must have been the most awkward and most breathtaking journey, at the same time, to
the closest konbini that Haruka had ever experienced, despite crossing that distance a
thousand times before.
Not that they didn’t try to speak; they both did. But Rin’s shoulder innocently and way too
often touched his as they walked side by side, and knuckles kept accidentally grazing the
back of Haruka’s hand—which he most definitely didn’t leave hanging at his side just like
that with any specific purpose on his mind.
Most definitely.
And after a few of Rin’s attempts to answer Haruka’s question, which were, in fact, about
something completely different that the man seemed to think, they finally gave up on any
chance for a decent conversation.
Whatever the reason, the time just didn’t seem to be right for talking.
So it wasn’t that big of a surprise, after all, that everything Haruka happened to gather until
he pushed on the konbini’s door knob was Rin’s will to find a job. And something about Gou,
something about something, and then nothing at all.
He couldn’t keep his mind focused enough to listen for any details, especially when he turned
from the shelves, an oversized rice box in his hands, only to find long fingers reaching out.
A thumb brushed something away from his collarbone, reluctantly returning to his owner
afterwards.
His eyes fell down to his own T-shirt, confusedly looking for a speck which could or could
not be there; he most probably wasn’t going to find out. And then back up to meet the pale
face, gathering nice red colour on the cheeks.
“So... uhm.” Rin cleared his throat, fist covering his mouth, hiding the smile that was sure
like hell there. Because his eyes were shining more than the TV on the konbini’s counter,
showing footage of previous World Cup matches, anyway. “What did you say we needed
more?”
He’s doing this intentionally, bastard.
“Flour?” Haruka pushed out, at last, mesmerized by the way redness under the black
eyelashes glimmered playfully like a pool of burning magma.
And also by the way the black cardigan fell right above Rin’s belt as the man finally relented
and, after taking the box from Haruka’s petrified arms, threw the thing into the small
shopping basket in his hands and carried it away, up the aisle.
Black jeans were just tight enough to show everything Haruka wanted and didn’t want to see
at the same time; leaving much more to his vivid, suddenly spurting imagination.
When Rin’s face turned backwards with his mouth open to say something, anything that was
there way too quickly blended into a smug grin. And all Haruka could do was narrow his
eyes at the man, because, yes, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out he was wearing quite a
dumb expression. But having it thrown into his face like that was pretty stupid even for Rin.
He was staring, so what?
It wasn’t as if he started this.
Haruka shook his head, reaching for the first thing in the cart that he kept pushing in front of
himself. The baking paper, intended previously for Makoto’s favourite croissants, probably
wasn’t the best fighting weapon, but it served its purpose as it landed on the back of the
man’s head with a loud smack.
“Oi.” Rin’s face wore an expression of feigned pain as his hand shot up to rub the hit place.
But like lightning it turned into one of passionate malice, making Haruka’s heart skip a beat.
Automatically strengthening his hold on the cart, he knew he should expect the worst. “You
know you’re going to pay for that.”
When the man’s basket travelled slowly to the floor, Haruka knew the challenge was
accepted.
Yes.
“No,” Haruka objected fruitlessly, excitement running up and down his veins like the wind
outside, and pushed against his cart to keep it between them. Old wheels screeched with
horror that he should most definitely feel himself under the dangerous stare of red,
determined eyes.
“Oh, but yes.”
And in the span of a second that Rin’s hand shot forward, trying to get a hold of his, Haruka
already moved around. Safe and sound, untouched. The man’s eyes narrowed, sparkling with
thrill.
Haruka felt his eyebrows raise provocatively, lips curling up.
“So slow, Matsuoka. So slow.”
“I’ll show you slow, moron.”
If he did or didn’t really try to move fast enough this time, wasn’t actually that important.
What was, though, was the feeling of warm hands curling around him, turning him quickly
around.
Pressing a firm chest against his back.
There was no way he was going to fight anymore, now that he was finally in those arms.
And, yeah, Yamazaki might have been right, might have had a point when he said those
things about them, leaving Haruka in doubt again—even more than he’d ever been before.
But that man didn’t have the slightest idea how it felt to have Rin’s fingertips on the bare skin
of his arms, hot breath in the crook of his neck.
“Got ya.” A whisper travelled along the shell of his ear, making a quake shake his body.
All the more then as long fingers travelled down his ribcage and pressed there, turning the
exhilaration into sudden and complete horror. Haruka’s body stiffened momentarily. With
shaky hands he tried to get a hold on the provoking wrist, only to find out they were firmly
anchored by the other man’s arms.
In a moment of utter silence, interrupted only by distant sounds of the already running
football match, Haruka blinked, terrified.
“Don’t you dare.”
But the warning, growled in a voice lower than he thought he could ever produce, didn’t have
much effect.
A silent chuckle from behind preceded Haruka’s yelp, and then he was pushing back against
the source of the worst tickling session he’d ever gone through—despite Nagisa’s continuous
attempts. A loud cackle found its way up his throat and there was no way to escape, no means
to stop the laughter falling from his mouth like a flood.
Especially when Rin’s rich voice accompanied his own—a symphony of happiness like no
other Haruka had ever experienced in his entire existence.
He fought for his life, yes, because there were few things in the body contentment department
worse than tickling, and Rin fucking knew how much he hated it. But the moment was also,
without a single doubt, closer to fucking perfection than any other in very, very long time.
And Haruka wasn’t going to let it end before he lost his mind completely in the man’s
unstoppable hands.
It took one last push backwards against the chest, though, as one particularly annoying finger
dug under his ribs, and Rin’s back was hitting the shelves behind them like a wrecking ball.
One joined cry, and a torrent of yellow boxes fell on their heads, the rustling sound of
thousands of corn flakes turning the aisle into a storm-filled forest.
“What the—” The man laughed out loudly, looking up to where the catastrophe came from,
placing his palm gently on top of Haruka’s head. “You alright?”
Haruka nodded, desperately catching for breath, and curled arms around his own ribcage.
“Alive.” A quiver. “Barely, but alive.”
The relief was instant now that he was free, but it didn’t take long until Rin’s hands encircled
him from behind, making it hard to breathe again. This time it was a proper embrace, though;
no tickling, no other suffering—except for sweet and aching.
Kicking Haruka’s heart like a hammer.
“Sorry. But”—a smile got lost somewhere into his shoulder—“I just needed to hear you
laugh.”
Haruka closed his eyes, and a sigh fell out of his mouth down to his paralyzed sneakers. It
was honestly astonishing how easily Rin could formulate the best—and the worst—words at
exactly the right time.
Damn him.
He knew it was inevitable, now. He was getting lost in this feeling, surrounding him like a
white light at a peak of a hot summer day, so much he wasn’t able to tell if he was ever going
to find the way out.
Cheesy as it was.
And he would most probably gave into it right then and there, turned in the man’s perfect
arms and kissed the brashness out of him for good—it was way too unfair Haruka was the
only one speechless here.
But a soft 'ehm', coming from the other end of the aisle, made him turn his head to find an old
man—up to that moment sitting behind the counter and happily ignoring everything but the
shining TV—staring at both of them, lips pursed in very obvious disapproval.
Rin’s arms fell off of Haruka instantly, and then he watched, amused, as he awkwardly
attempted to pick up all the scattered boxes.
Throwing them all into Haruka’s shopping cart.
He sighed, turning to Rin’s red cheeks when the old man finally crawled behind the corner
and—judging by the screeching sound—onto the stool behind the counter again.
“What am I going to do with these?” Haruka asked silently, motioning towards the pile of
cornflakes. “I don’t even eat this. No one does, really.”
Rin shrugged, obviously not caring a bit, before one of his eyebrows jumped up and a smug
smile was back.
“You outta try new things, Nanase.”
Haruka had a hundred and one urges when it came to this man, but as Rin winked at him
meaningfully and walked away to the counter like the fucking owner of the world, kicking
his ass had instantly become the strongest one. Closing his eyes he smiled a little to himself.
This man was surely, definitely, going to be the death of him.
They didn’t end up buying the mountain of cornflakes in the end, nor did they take the too-
big rice box with them. Deciding on its smaller version was definitely smarter, and, leaving
the konbini side by side, they had their hands full of bags anyway.
The street Haruka lived on was thankfully much quieter than any of the frequented malls and
avenues of Tokyo city, and there was not a single foot crossing it now as their steps resonated
against the concrete pavement—everybody was most probably glued to their screens anyway.
And it was the only silver lining of the moment.
Because Haruka wasn’t sure how all those people would react to the beating inside of his
chest, which must have surely been heard kilometres all around.
Annoying wind kept returning hair into his eyes, again and again, and anytime he threw his
head to clear his vision, Rin’s body jolted as if awaiting a punch. And it was the third time in
a row with the very same effect when Haruka suddenly realized that he was, in fact, walking
on alone.
With a start he turned around, finding his own legs a little wobbly.
The man only stood there, unmoving, both hands heavy with bags. Staring, swallowing
thickly; once, and then again—his adam’s apple kept jumping up and down in a dance of
nervousness and hesitation.
It’s here.
Haruka’s pulse flew right into the night sky, breaking through the pinkish veil of the city’s
lighting and farther to the faraway stars of distant galaxies.
And even before the quiet 'fuck' escaped Rin’s lips and the man finally launched forward,
Haruka was moving on his own.
It was inevitable; it was going to happen anyway, no matter how many times he was going to
tell himself that jumping into it this recklessly after everything that had happened—after each
and every time it had hurt like dying itself—was just plain idiocy.
It didn’t matter what anybody said.
Because Haruka never knew loving could hurt so good before this man had returned to his
life, and if he was destined to do the same mistake over and over again, then so be it.
But where he anticipated Rin’s lips to crash against his like they had a thousand times before,
there was nothing but two palms, cradling his face as if it was something fragile, something
precious.
“Wait a second,” the man whispered shakily. “I have to get it out while I still have the guts.”
Haruka blinked into the night, watching Rin’s flawless face from the enthralling proximity.
Yellow light from the lamp on the other side of the street enlightened its side, drawing
shadows on the other. One breath in, one breath out, and the man turned so serious Haruka
thought his chest was going to implode if he wasn’t going to be kissed within the next thirty
seconds.
The contents of Rin’s bags, still hanging in his hands, kept digging into Haruka’s arms with
sharp edges of numerous boxes, while the man seemed to be searching for the right words to
say. Apparently oscillating between courage and petrifying fear.
He couldn’t do differently but smile a little, wishing to know how to help while the moment
stretched.
“Those frozen peas are quite cold, you know.”
And he moved his shoulder to point out the source of discomfort when Rin’s face turned into
one of confusion.
A soft chuckle, and then the man licked his lips.
“It’s like... there’s never the right time to say this, with someone still around, and you’re
almost never alone with just me, so...” A short intake of breath. “I practiced this like million
times over, but you see, I’m really screwing it up now that I finally have you this close, but...
'am... I just basically wanted to say thank you.”
Haruka felt his eyebrows furrow over the unexpected development, but the man was
unstoppable once he’d finally thrown himself into the current.
“No one’s ever, ever done for me what you have, and I just... can’t find the right words to say
how much it means to me—”
“Rin,” Haruka objected unsuccessfully, trying to stop the nonsense.
But the man only closed his eyes, shivering slightly into the night.
“Nanase, shut up now, 'kay? Don’t say my name, cause I’m going to... and I won’t get it done
then, and it’s important.”
A small nod preceded words that Haruka couldn’t have seen coming even if he had spent
weeks meditating over the possible contents of this already impossible, and mainly way too
long, conversation.
“I—I’m giving you a promise now, Haru, that I’m going to be a better man,” Rin said, licking
his dry lips again. “For you. And... I don’t even know what this is, or what it’s going to be,
since I’m just me, and never for a second in my life I dared to think that you’d even look my
way, not to say give someone like me an actual chance—but I swear I’m not going to fuck
this up again. I’m going to give you perfection, Haru, which is the only thing you deserve.
So... what do you say, huh? Will you make this perfect together... with me?”
And Haruka wanted to roll his eyes. Because he didn’t need any perfection—what the hell
was it supposed to look like, anyway—didn’t need any promises. All he needed was right
here in front of him, holding his face in gentle hands. Although he could really survive
without the added pain of Rin’s bags becoming heavier by every second. And those damned
peas, freezing his skin—he would have left them in the konbini’s freezer surely, had he had
any idea how much suffering they were going to cause.
But Rin’s eyes shone with fragile hope, born and grown much earlier, maybe somewhere on
the empty beach under the colourful Australian sky, and Haruka couldn’t.
Couldn’t even jokingly try to belittle the man that he was so fucking in love with, especially
now when he waited for his answer as if it was no less than a life-or-death verdict.
“So?” Rin asked after a while of prolonging silence, giving a small, anxious chuckle, and it
was impossible to miss the way his body started to quiver violently. “Are you going to say
something?”
Haruka sighed and, closing his eyes, leaned his forehead against Rin’s burning one.
Because there were a thousand and one possible things he could say, now.
Some of them romantic, some flirtatious. Some charming, some a little corny, but still sweet
enough to stomach. It was given, knowing Rin, that the man would most definitely appreciate
something sweet and witty, maybe even syrupy.
But there was only so much he could do while he had to deal with his own runaway heartbeat
and the butterfly touch of Rin’s fluttering eyelashes on the skin of his nose.
“I can’t,” he started, sighing into the warm breath; barely a centimetre separating their faces.
“I can’t feel my shoulder.”
In a moment Rin’s forehead was gone, and Haruka grinned teasingly into the man’s suddenly
aggravated face once he opened his eyes again.
“Nah,” Rin said, shaking his head a little when Haruka laughed out loud—sound surprisingly
rich and happy to his ears. “You sure know how to spoil the mom—”
And that was just about everything Rin was allowed to say, period.
Because Haruka’s lips were on his, groceries in his hands landing somewhere on the ground
with a loud thud of cans hitting the pavement, fingers curling around the man’s wrists gently.
Shut up, finally.
And it didn’t take more than second before Rin caught up, letting his bags join Haruka’s own,
equally oblivious to everything but the sensation of their skin pressed together.
So sweet and so, so overwhelming.
Long arms curled around him immediately, pushed him impossibly closer, and fingers
ultimately landed on the back of Haruka’s neck; tipping his head a little, so their faces fell to
each other like two pieces of a damned perfect puzzle.
A soft caress of a tongue on his lower lip and a hot breath that he took into his own lungs
right away—it was a more than comprehensible order to let Rin in.
And he obeyed, immediately.
Oh.
It wasn’t as if they’d never kissed before, on the contrary. But the first touch of their tongues
now—cautious and hesitating on both sides—was much better than all the dramatic and fiery
kisses they’d shared before.
Equally voltaic and intoxicating, yes, only more natural.
More them.
And it was driving him wild: the feeling of a strong, muscled back under his hands as his
palms roamed shyly over the thin shirt under Rin’s cardigan; the man’s chest heaving hard
with ragged breathing—not unlike his own. The sensation of a freshly shaved face, smelling
distantly of soap and much more strongly of the cologne that he had noticed on the man
before—the first time Rin had held him in the elevator after the worst dinner of his life.
The man’s lips, gently assaulting his mouth—the sensation was better than stealing first place
from Hagino in the race earlier that day; seeing him beaten for the very first time ever.
But like always when he had Rin so close it ended way too soon. Only there were no hands
pushing him away now, no words that would hurt like hell once his brain caught up with their
content, no nothing.
Only a small, shaky sigh, and fingers softly running down his temple and cheek; red eyes
following their trace as if they had drawn a map on his face.
And a voice deep and quivering at its edges, whispering lovingly, and, undoubtedly, with a
hint of admiration.
“Fucking one of a kind, Nanase Haruka.”
The wild smile on his face got lost somewhere in the crook of Rin’s warm, wind-flavoured
neck.
Love you, too.
Nagisa’s and the others’ faces said it all once they finally, after two or three short breaks—out
of pure necessity spent in the shadows of buildings, tightly wrapped into each other—arrived
home and entered the small common room.
The sounds of the football match attacked Haruka’s senses, but nothing could overcome the
feeling of Rin’s fingers, entwined in his own.
And it was almost funny how Makoto pursed his lips after saying a vague 'hi', fighting a grin;
eyes fixated on the screen in front of them. Or how Rei cleared his throat awkwardly, hastily
relocating to the space between two old armchairs, pushed to the room’s wall and occupied
by their two other friends.
Leaving the place in the dark corner of the room, next to the pile of videogames and an old
X-box, just for the two of them.
Or how Nagisa did his best to look uninterested, not even looking their way—despite the fact
he was most certainly dying to do so—only staring forward, pushing a whole bunch of
popcorn into his wide open mouth.
Of course, the little brat lasted just about five seconds before he grabbed the remote control,
turning up the volume slightly, and spoke in a flat voice.
“That must’ve been the longest grocery shopping in the history of the human race.”
“Shut up,” Rin barked, letting himself down on the old, worn-out tatami, leaning against the
cold wall next to Haruka. Not letting go of his hand for a second. “So how are we doing?”
“Goalless, so far,” Makoto said silently, and sipped on his soda can.
But a quick glance, that Haruka caught before his best friend’s eyes returned to the screen,
was full of unadulterated joy for them, and the warmth over such approval made everything
even better.
The room soon fell into comfortable silence, interrupted only by his friends’ occasional
comments on the match and the soft reporter’s voice. And everyone’s, even Rin’s beautiful
eyes, were glued to the screen—everyone’s except for his.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t give a damn about the match, which could send their team home way
too easily—he most certainly wouldn’t have spent all those nights watching TV alongside an
annoyingly excited Nagisa, fighting the need to smack the blond head to cool it down a little,
if he didn’t care.
But now, in a small, darkened common room, a wholly different fight was just reaching its
conclusion.
The one inside of his brain.
Haruka lowered his head, closing his eyes for a second or two. Basking in the moment,
relishing in the enthralling warmth of Rin’s body.
Maybe the man was right, Haruka thought; maybe they could make perfection, after all.
Because, hell, what could be more perfect than this, sitting here side by side; shoulder against
shoulder, thigh against thigh.
He was going to find out soon, though, as long fingers found his jaw, and in the flickering,
green light of the screen he saw pale lips closing the distance.
It was nothing but a series of fleeting, almost imperceptible kisses, really—nothing to be

overly excited about, at least not in the way Haruka, in fact, was. Slow and innocent, the ones
that made the dry skin of their lips stick together when they tried to pull apart.
He could spend eternity like this, wrapped in a feeling of safety, having the back of his hand
caressed by Rin’s fingertips. Staring with his eyes closed at the debris of all those protective
walls, built around his heart over the months, and, mainly, the last few weeks.
They were lying under their bent legs, now, scattered all over the old tatami floor.
Because fuck all doubts, fuck the cautiousness.

He had already dived into it whole-heartedly, anyway—no matter how much he wanted to
believe he still had an actual choice to make. And maybe it was going to end tomorrow, and
maybe it was going to kill him just like it had tried numerous times before, but there was no
way back now.
Rin’s nose nuzzled against his, so sweetly it made his heart skip a beat again, and a loving
smile reached his half-lidded eyes just before it happened.
An unexpected roar cut through the comfortable silence like a knife, making the two of them
jolt in shock and both draw out of the haze.
Damn.
Haruka blinked, trying to decipher why the hell Makoto and others were yelling instead of
shutting their mouths now that everything felt peaceful and so damn good.
“What happened?” Rin asked hoarsely, sounding positively dazed.
Nagisa chuckled darkly as if the man had said something funny, but his face was tense and
anxious when he leaned forward in the armchair, a hand finding its way to his mouth to bite
on his nails. In the end it was Rei who actually offered an explanation, although equally
consumed by some dramatic scene happening on the screen.
“Penalty was conceded by Yasuyuki Konno after a foul in the penalty area.”
“That’s bullshit.” Nagisa’s fist ended in the palm of his other hand, and he continued in a
voice angry and agitated. “Konno-chan never tackles unless it’s necessary. And this was not
the case.”
Haruka leaned his head against Rin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. What the hell were they
all talking about?
Makoto’s voice came to him distorted, muffled by the fabric on the man’s shoulder.
“Nagisa, be fair, he clearly toppled Ramos.”
“Yeah, it was a clear foul,” Rin said, this time in a tad steadier voice.
The pink eyed man let out an angry 'tch', trying bravely to invade Haruka’s attention,
currently fully occupied by fingertips casually running up and down his upper arm.
Lifting the hem of his shirt’s sleeve a little.
“Yeah, as if you were actually looking, Rin-chan. Stop making comments, will you?”
“Whatever.” Rin sighed, fingers abandoning their taunting administration, much to Haruka’s
chagrin. Scooting a little on the uncomfortable tatami, the man sighed and pushed against the
improvised pyramid of plastic covers, constantly falling onto his lap. “Who’s stepping up?”
A strong, lean arm rose to the air above Haruka’s head and without hesitation fell on his
shoulder, pulling him close again. And he surrendered, nuzzling into the crook of Rin’s neck
immediately.
He didn’t care if he was sitting on a pile of needles, as long as there was a warm arm holding
him.
“Cuadrado.” Rei’s tense whisper, dedicated to the TV, preceded Rin’s overly horrified hiss.
“Shit, he makes no mistakes.” A heavy, dramatic sigh. “We’re done.”
Haruka chuckled quietly into the skin of Rin’s neck, knowing too well what Nagisa’s reaction
was going be after such a comment. The man was teasing their friend on purpose, and Nagisa
seemed to be the only one who didn’t notice.
And maybe he was going a bit too far, yes, but hell it was funny to see that even the ever-
cheerful man was able to get this agitated over something.
An amused, crooked smile played on Rin’s lips as he pressed Haruka so close that breathing
was starting to be difficult, and he realized with a start that it was, in fact, nothing but Rin’s
gentle revenge for everything Nagisa had done in the past.
“Shut—up, finally. Rin-chan. Go make out with your boyfriend somewhere else.”
“Hell I would, instead of sitting here on these videogames, or whatever the fuck it is,” Rin
said, feigning anger, pulling Warcraft III: Reign of Chaos from behind his back. He threw it
on the pile of other boxes, but it slid off of it on the other side with a stubborn determination.
“Why the hell did you get rid of the couch, anyway?”
Haruka’s eyes fell open.
Thump.
“What couch?” Makoto asked, wide eyes on the TV, words muffled by the palm of his hand
covering his mouth. Closely followed by Nagisa’s equally confused voice.
“Yeah, what couch, Rin-chan?”
Thump, thump.
In the tense silence of an upcoming penalty kick, Haruka knew what the following man’s
words were going to be, even before he spoke, this time honestly pissed-off.
“What do you mean what couch? The one you had before. Here. Instead of chairs.”
A few heavy heartbeats, two furrowed eyebrows, one pursed lips, and it was all signed,
sealed, delivered even before Rei opened his mouth.
“They have never had a couch in this common room, according to my knowledge, Rin-
senpai.”
Nagisa shook his head, giving Rin a funny look for a hundredth of second before his eyes
returned to the crucial moment of the match.
“Rin-chan’s having another hallucination?”
No, they couldn’t possibly know, Haruka thought with the fluttering heart.
Thump.
They couldn’t have the slightest clue where Rin had gotten the idea.
About the non-existent couch—the one his own e-mail had lied about once in a far-away
past.
Within the roar of a crowd in the bleachers of Arena Pantanal Cuiaba he felt Rin’s body go
stiff and unmoving in his arms, but he didn’t dare turn his head and look.
To confirm it.
To find out if he was going to have to make the most awkward confession of his entire life.
Chapter End Notes
If anyone's interested, Cuadrado did score that penalty, and Japan was eliminated from
the World Cup after crushing loss to Colombia 1:4. ;)
See you all soon!

Chapter 12
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
Here’s another chapter. There’s nothing important to say to keep you from reading,
except for giving all credit of the world for editing work to amazing marbled_maven.
I’m forever in your debt, thank you so much!
Now, guys, enjoy!
Like a phantom pain of a missing limb, a memory stored in his skin rather than his brain,
there was a feeling that touches lingered on his body long after they were, in fact, gone.
Unquestionably still there, even though a loving hand was not there anymore; no fingertips to
place another layer of their magic on his body.
The flickering green light of the TV shone through his thin eyelids while the wall behind
Haruka’s head sent cooling waves to the back of his skull. His cheeks were hot, the back of
his neck was hot. Everything felt hot, even the tatami under him was almost scalding—most
likely just reflecting back his own fever.
It surely had been no more than fifteen minutes since Rin’s phone rang, and he had left the
warm place next to Haruka to talk silently, walking around their small kitchen, and most
definitely no more than five since the man had called on confused Makoto, asking to follow
after him. The two of them talked now behind the wall, quiet words muffled by the sounds of
the football match closing to its disastrous end. Apparently about something that Haruka
wasn’t supposed to hear, but he didn’t mind.
Rin was still here.
A small sigh found its way out through Haruka’s nose, and he let the palm of his hand run
over the skin of his upper arm for the hundredth time. Nothing changed, though, the feeling
was still there—just as intense as on his lips and the side of his thigh.
Rin hadn’t left.
Cracking his eyes open, Haruka simply had to check on the place where his fingers dug into
his own arm. Because, damn, there was no way there weren’t visible results of those touches,
left after Rin’s painfully sweet, caressing fingertips.
As if the cells of his skin got drunk, needing more, insanely more of their newly discovered
drug.
Voices, coming from the kitchen, seemed to somehow increase in volume and intensity, but
no one in the common room paid them any attention. Both Nagisa and Rei had been mute for
too long now, eyes still on the TV, obviously depressed by the catastrophic turn out of the
match. The football jersey had landed on the ground at Nagisa’s feet a good while ago,
rumpled and sadly abandoned.
Never in his life had Haruka thought he could feel this way—that it was even possible to feel
this fine about someone’s closeness. Someone’s touches.
People’s insistent attempts of physical contact always annoyed him, disgusted him even;
made goose bumps of the worst kind run over his body.
Yeah, he could survive his friends’ hugs. If they were short, though, and didn’t happen too
often. He didn’t mind Makoto, at all—but his best friend knew him too well to invade his
physical world on his own volition; except for rare occasions of congratulations and such,
and it always left Haruka indifferent, yet still comfortable. It was a huge part of the reason
why living with Makoto was so easy.
But the rest of the world’s population—it was out of the question.
Over the years, Haruka simply got used to the now established idea that he was not a tactile
person.
Touching was not scary, per se.
But it was just not right, and people should know how to keep their manners. Only they
usually didn’t; always stepping too close, leaning too close while talking. Placing an
annoying hand on his shoulder, as if it could make him listen to the nonsense they talked
about. And for the love of the world, Haruka couldn’t grasp why it was so difficult to
understand the simple truth of where their physical space ended and his commenced.
Only with Rin—with Rin it was fine.
He didn’t have a slightest idea why having the man’s hands on him felt like everything was
just as it was always supposed to be.
Shutting his eyes firmly again, Haruka ignored the way his own name flew through the
kitchen like a crack of a whip.
Everything was fine.
It had been a big relief, truthfully, how two or three never-ending minutes after that idiotic
couch had been brought up, Rin’s body had finally relaxed, soft lips finding Haruka’s again.
Not even pretending to pay attention to the rest of the match, he had pushed himself deeper
into Rin’s warm embrace and let the man lock him up in the safety of his arms; chin resting
on top of Haruka’s head.
Like that, it hadn’t taken too long to calm down his heartbeat, making him almost laugh over
it all.
Because, really, why frazzle about such a stupidity that Rin surely couldn’t get mad about,
anyway?
Soon enough Haruka had found himself on the verge of a weird, nonsensical dream. Only, for
some reason, he wasn’t able to cross its border fully. As if he was always distantly aware of
strong arms curled around him like a lifebelt; as if his brain was trying to get a hold of
something.
“Haru?” A quiet voice drew him out off the haze, making his eyes snap to the tall silhouette
of the man he was just thinking about. A sterile white light from under the kitchen’s cabinet
drew an aura around Rin and hid his face in the shadow. “Can you come here for a second?”
Without hesitation he pushed his body into motion and followed blindly—just like he always
did—leaving Nagisa’s and Rei’s confused stares behind. Met with Makoto’s troubled face
above the kitchen table, a worry bit into his chest.
Even more when the green eyes fell down onto the man’s folded arms as Haruka slowly
closed the distance to the table and searched out Rin’s face for an explanation.
The captivating curve of his lips turned annoyed as he ultimately halted next to the hunched
man, hands deep in his pockets.
“Makoto,” the man growled into the darkened room, at last. “Spit it out, already. We’re both
waiting, and I’m getting kinda tired of this crap.”
Haruka’s eyes snapped to his best friend’s face, instantly hiding behind the shelter of his big
palms. A short, fierce pain made him step closer—the need to protect strong and ringing
clearly. Seeing this man suffer was not doing anything good to his heart.
“What’s going on?” Haruka asked at length, an empty silence fading slowly into nothing.
“Hell if I know, damn.”
Rin vigorously raked his hair, muscles of his jaw straining with irritation. Dangerously and
very fascinatingly, forcing Haruka to turn his eyes briskly elsewhere.
This wasn’t a very good time for seizure of his lewd urges, indeed.
“All I know is there’s this heartbroken girl, who would do fucking anything to get this moron
back. Only, of course, he won’t budge.”
“Rin.” Makoto finally seemed to take a breath and spoke tiredly, straightening on the chair. “I
appreciate your concern, deeply, but like I already told you, Jane and I can handle it ourselv
—”
“Like hell you can!”

It wasn’t just Makoto’s body that jolted at the violent outburst of energy that reverberated the
walls of the small condo, and Haruka found his mind a little dizzy from the effect Rin’s voice
had on his ability to think clearly.
Looking up at the man with hands curled into fists, it was apparent he was way too pissed off
to realize how Makoto’s body language spoke openly.
Instantly closing up, cutting them both off.
“You know what?” Rin continued in a voice slightly calmer to slowly rising Makoto. “I don’t
feel like reliving what happened that fucking night, either, and you’re right, maybe it’s for the
best if we just don’t talk about that. Like, ever.”
Red eyes turned for the shortest second to instantly paralyzed Haruka, returning to his best
friend at once.
“But I know Jane. I simply won’t believe she would be able to hurt Haru in any way. Despite
what she says, or you do.”
An intense burning in Haruka’s palms signaled loudly that he should tear his nails out of the
flesh before they cut through the skin, but it was too hard to move any part of his suddenly
feverish body.
“Rin,” Makoto said, an apparent warning in his voice—shouting loud and clear that Rin just
stepped on the thin ice.
When his best friend’s politeness started to crack, it was time to clear the field.
“You should really mind your own business.”
“Huh?!”
Even the calmest ones had a limit that shouldn’t be crossed, but Rin didn’t seem to know that
as his face turned into the epitome of pure shock.
“Cut the crap, Tachibana.”
Haruka sighed, covering his eyes.
Impossible.
“Rin,” he breathed out, wishing to know how to tell the man to calm the fuck down, without
humiliating him in front of the other person.
And as veins on Rin’s neck filled with blood running under the pressure of his athletic heart,
Haruka’s body automatically moved between the two idiots. Protecting, securing no one
would end up with a blue eye tonight.
Teeth all bared and dangerous, red hair set aflame, Rin seemed to finally understand that
Makoto was running away, trying to find shelter behind the door of his room.
“Where the fuck are you going now?” Rin barked after his best friend’s figure over Haruka’s
shoulder. Not really attacking, but seeking the answers, anyway. “Don’t you really care about
her one bit? Did you really just fuck around with her? Is that so?! Is that what I should tell
her?”
“Come on, Rin,” Haruka objected, heart squeezing painfully as Makoto’s hand froze on the
door knob. “Stop.”
It was given Rin cared deeply about Jane, and it was just alright. She herself said they were
close, and it did seem like it when the man held her crying in the bathroom yesterday. He
wanted to play a knight in shining armour for her, fine, but everything had its limits.
No one was going to attack his best friend this way; not even Rin, period.
In a short moment Makoto finally disappeared behind the door of his room, smacking it
behind with an earsplitting bang—although quite losing its dramatic effect as it didn’t close
fully afterwards.
It took a few seconds until Haruka’s hearing recovered, and a relieved sigh found its way up
his throat.
“Why the hell did you not help me there?” The pair of furious eyes anchored on him, sharp
and accusing, and Haruka realized with dismay it was not the end, yet. “Aren’t you supposed
to be on my side, or some—?”
Haruka tsked, effectively bringing the weirdly mistaken monologue to its end. Letting a small
sigh out of his nose, he shook his head a little.
Nonsense.
With courage quite jittery Haruka reached out and did something that he’d never have
thought of doing two days ago.
Curled fingers into the fabric of Rin’s cardigan. Pulled the man slowly to him.
“I did help you, idiot,” he whispered into the sound of his own pounding heart, stepping
closer.
“Yeah? And how exactly?”
And it must have been somewhere between the moment Rin ripped the fabric out of Haruka’s
starved fingers and the acid question when the world fell a bit apart.
It wasn’t as if something catastrophic happened, no, not really.
Haruka still stood where he had been a second ago, heart equally racing; Rin with his mouth
half-opened in a vain attempt to formulate words he obviously didn’t remember anymore.
A tornado of the man’s hot temper swirled around them with the last remains of its raging
energy; wind picking up dust from the ground. And that stupid hand of his was left hanging
in the air between them, empty and strangely paralyzed.
He blinked in shock, stunned; Rin’s mouth opened and closed, wordless.
The fridge moaned into the suddenly ringing silence as two pairs of eyes confusedly rose up
to search for some kind of explanation, meeting halfway. Ablaze flame in the red ones
instantly swapped with shock and something like shame, burning just as much.
“I’m—”
The man’s hand travelled slowly to his forehead in a gesture of utter bewilderment, but soon
enough shot forward and pulled strongly on Haruka’s waist. Bringing him close to his chest,
and it was warm all around instantly as he was engulfed in a hug; only wide eyes peaking
over Rin’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
Haruka shook his head, trying wordlessly to say it was nothing—because he knew, he
fucking understood that he had it coming all the way—for doing such a stupid thing, he
deserved that much.
What the hell was he even thinking?
Yet all he could do was stare wide-eyed into the kitchen, realizing how easily not using his
brain could turn dangerous when it came to this man.
“I’ll talk to him later,” Haruka mumbled hoarsely into the fabric on the shoulder, and a heavy,
unbelieving sigh fell into his hair.
“I know. I’m such an imbecile.”
The warm face drowned into the crook of Haruka’s burning neck, and it felt almost cooling—
the sensation of Rin’s skin pressed against his—and he realized with a start it was his own
blood pulsing wildly through veins right up to his face.
“No, you’re not.”
I am.
Because it must have been years since he had gotten this embarrassed last time, and what the
hell did he get so flustered about, anyway?
The man’s reaction wasn’t any different from all those Haruka had watched during the years
they had known each other—with Rin getting pissed off at any occasion for every little stupid
thing. It just belonged to the man like sharp teeth and the redness of his hair.
Him treating every situation with equally wild zest was just normal, period.
And it was no one but Haruka’s own fault for getting burned when stepping too close to the
raging fire; how could the fire itself be blamed for it?
Only he was always stupid enough—agog and all impatient when in the same room—the
sudden wave of want clouding his brain, turning it into an unusable piece of meat.
“I’m sorry, Haru.” A whisper.
“Nothing happened.”
Somewhere between Rin’s heavy, shaky sigh against the shell of his ear and his soft, almost
desolated plea Haruka tried his best to get his senses quickly back together.
For Rin, who seemed to be more devastated by this turn of events than Haruka himself.
“Can I kiss you?” A whispered question, and the man’s body shook slightly as their noses
touched.
A hasty nod, and then the butterfly touch of Rin’s lips made his already spinning mind get
lost in a whirlwind of weirdly conflicting impulses—wanting to push and pull away at the
same time.
It started as nothing more than a tame and delicate apology—not needed, yet offered,
anyway. And with their lips sealed, moving slowly against each other, it felt somewhat just
enough for now. But when the pressure on his mouth intensified and a sweaty palm landed on
his neck to hold and pull desperately, little bit too forcefully closer, Haruka didn’t seem to be
catching quickly enough.
A fast intake of breath before the man licked in, all of a sudden thirsty and frenzied. An awed
fluttering of his own eyelashes.
An insistent tongue dipping into the flesh of his mouth, searching for its companion and
something else—probably forgiveness.
Only he didn’t seem to be able to give in this time; whatever the reason was.
A wet smack of their lips echoed almost obscenely in the silence as he pulled away, and the
artificial smile on his face felt desperately lame. A warm thumb on his jaw froze, and a
strange expression shortly crossed Rin’s eyes when Haruka finally opened his own.
“Hey.” A small tick moved Rin’s left eyebrow several times. “S’up?”
“Nothing,” Haruka breathed out, placing a small kiss on the man’s clenched lips. “Nothing.”
It really was nothing, indeed. He didn’t feel an inch of anger in his guts, nor was he stupidly
offended—he wasn’t a kid, for crying out loud.
It wasn’t worth a minute of their attention.
And, Haruka thought while curling his hands into fists and releasing them behind the man’s
back—again and again to make them stop shaking—even if there was something small,
absolutely irrelevant, crawling underneath his skin, he could manage it easily.
He didn’t put up a fight when long fingers pulled him gently towards the main door and to
the genkan; to the borderline of darkness where light from the kitchen didn’t reach and far
beyond, nor when the man pulled him close, tender eyes hesitating; observing. Not even
when lips pressed against his own again. Shyly, uncertain this time; without the desperation
of the previous try.
The sweetest good-night wish.
“About that couch,” Haruka started, breaking free from Rin’s mouth, searching for anything
to say.
Regretting the stupid sentence at once, since this was obviously not the best time for
conversation about his poor seducing abilities, which had so tremendously failed months ago.
“Forget it.” Rin shook his head slightly and dove in again into his mouth.
Haruka blinked several times before catching up and deciding to shut his eyes firmly.
“I didn’t,” he said, swallowing a scent of soda, popcorn, and Rin’s own flavour, forgetting
how exactly the rest of the sentence went. “Lie.”
The man didn’t really give him any chance to explain further as insistent hands got a hold of
his own, squeezing reassuringly.
“I know you didn’t.” The man breathed into his face while distant sounds of Rei’s and
Nagisa’s conversation in the common room delivered the information that what they were
doing could be heard just as easily.
“Nanase doesn’t lie.” A smile, and a faint kiss landed on his eyelid, candid and innocent.
“Not his style.”
And it didn’t quite matter anymore that what Haruka said wasn’t at all what he originally
intended. It wasn’t the question of truth or lie, anymore. Rin didn’t care, and nothing else
mattered.
No one was angry anymore; everything was just fine.
Air around them slowly vibrated again, and the only important thing was Rin’s fingers,
entwining tenderly into Haruka’s own, connecting them.
With almost no effort—starting a fire afresh.
“That won’t ever happen again,” Rin whispered into a gust of cold air from the open door,
coaxing warmth off the side of Haruka’s face and shoulder.
“I know.”
With a last, unsure smile that somehow didn’t reach his eyes, Rin turned around and left.
Staring behind his descending figure Haruka had to look away, not even knowing why.
It must have been that suddenly blinding light in the hallway, or an astonishingly strong
memory of the two of them standing in the almost same spot less than two hours ago.
Maybe it was the way Rin’s body fought the need to run.
Two hours later Nagisa’s uncountable complaints and cries finally faded into silence as Rei
dragged the crestfallen man for a drink outside. It was way past midnight, and there were no
signs of life in the suddenly empty condo, apart from faint light coming from underneath the
bathroom door.
Haruka turned the TV off, heading to do the dishes before Makoto decided to finish sulking
in the bathtub. Water ran down his soapy hands and wrists, hot and calming, and Haruka
sighed into the deafening quiet.
Where the hell was his mother so late at night, anyway?
A shadow moved between buildings on the other side of the street when he pulled the old
window frame open to let the fresh air in—probably nothing more than a product of his tired
mind. Shaking his head slightly over himself he grabbed a device lying on the coffee table;
the one with Makoto’s big fingerprints all over.
Standing in front of the bathroom, he knocked lightly, only to get nothing.
“Makoto.” He sighed to the wood of the door. “I’m coming in.”
Water splashed slowly when his best friend pulled knees to his chest as he stepped inside, not
even looking the man’s way. Letting himself down to the ground Haruka sighed. He leaned
his head against the tub edge, suddenly so very tired, and Makoto’s phone found its place
atop a messy pile of clothes thrown over the old chair, waiting to serve obediently.
To get the man’s life back on the right track.
“Haru, I—”
“Call her.”
Up to tonight Haruka had no idea what stood behind all this nonsense, what could possibly
cause his best friend to suffer so much. It could have been anything, really, and there was no
sense in over-thinking it until Makoto decided to open up on his own. But the two hadn’t
known each other long enough for it to be anything gravely serious, right? Judging by
Makoto’s reaction, he was somehow sure it was Jane who broke it up.
Never, never in his whole life, would he believe this idiot was able to do such a stupid thing
like letting go of the girl he loved without an actual reason.
Because that’s what it was, even though the man saw it differently.
“Is that all?” Haruka asked, exhausted, knowing that Makoto would understand. “Or did
something else happen then?”
Did he not love her? Did he really not care about her like Rin said?
Hardly.
“No.” A whisper. “But it’s enough.”
A sigh and Haruka wiped his face, unable to decide if he was supposed to laugh or outright
cry.
That night, that fucking night, if only it had never happened. If he hadn’t gone to that stupid
mansion, if he hadn’t talked with Rin. If he hadn’t broken down then; if Rin hadn’t
disappeared.
With the certainty that everything somehow spun around that one screwed up decision of his
—if he hadn’t spent that damned night at Yamazaki’s place.
If nothing of that had happened, Makoto wouldn’t be here now; a heartbroken man thinking
that what he was doing somehow made his friendship with Haruka stronger. That he was just
being a best friend—a duty he always took way too seriously.
How fucked up it was that this good man, this idiot really broke up with the only girl he’d
ever loved so far just because his panicked girlfriend had dared raise her voice at him?
For something so unimportant, something Haruka couldn’t care about less.
It was stupid, it was far too much, and it was so very Makoto-like that he couldn’t even get
mad properly.
“She was scared.” Haruka pushed against his eyelids forcefully until the pressure drew
colourful stains all over his vision. “And you’re exaggerating.”
“Any you weren’t? It was you who needed our support then,” Makoto asked silently, letting
himself down to the water so nothing but his eyes peaked out.
Looking just like Haruka must have every time he tried to hide from the world and problems
he couldn’t deal with.
“Makoto.” A sigh. “It doesn’t really matter.”
Water sung soothingly around his best friend’s body when the green eyes rested on him,
unconvinced. Haruka let the smallest smile wander to his face, finally understanding.
Like now, like always—Makoto sought his permission, and Haruka didn’t have to understand
it; he probably never would, fully.
But that was what their strange friendship was like. Makoto was more family to him than
anybody else, ever, and even back in Iwatobi, with all the man’s parents and siblings around,
he somehow knew it went both ways.
Brothers born of one’s stubbornness and the other’s loneliness, but brothers nevertheless.
“She is your girlfriend.”
But if he thought Haruka was going to let him stay stuck between their friendship—no matter
how long-lasting and firm—and this, or any further relationship he was going to have,
eventually, then he was insane.
It was time the man got his priorities straight.
With a last shake of his head Haruka stood up, reached for the phone, and threw it to
befuddled Makoto.
One sad, yet hopeful smile later, and he was one hundred percent sure the message got across
successfully.
“Haru?” A firm voice stopped him on the threshold. And he nodded with a smile even before
Makoto spoke, knowing precisely what would follow. “Thank you.”
The shadow was gone from the street when he looked out of the window once more,
furrowing his eyebrows over the silliness. The door to his own room was still ajar like it’d
been the whole night; an empty condo quiet and somehow cold.
Dragging his exhausted body to the bed, a faint, quickly fading light from his phone made the
night a bit warmer.
Matsuoka Rin:
[ U taste like nashi from mum’s garden 00:47 ]
[ Is it good or bad? 01:08 ]
[ I love nashi 01:18 ]
***
One last breath in, one last stroke, and he knew it was good before he raised his face up.
Before Hirai’s delighted eyes rested on him, before the expression of the woman next to the
small man turned to plain wonder. Before his heart managed to slow down to the point where
he could think clearly.
We did it.
Water throbbed around him with pulsating electricity that made his head spin, so excited and
joyous it was inevitable.
We fucking did it!
The sound of a whistle roared above the noise of the natatorium, delivering the end of
classification tests with pomp, and it had never sounded that wonderful before as Haruka
ripped goggles off of his head.
He wasn’t even breathless when a small hand shot to him from above, ready to help him out
of the pool.
“God job, kid. Good. Job,” Hirai yelled somewhere behind the veil of humming in Haruka’s
head.
He hadn’t seen a stopwatch yet, didn’t know the results. But he didn’t need to.
The hard face was flat and emotionless as usual, but it was all in the way the small man’s
body almost bounced in place as Haruka finally stood next to him, water dripping from his
hair and skin. A strong, praising slap fell on his shoulder, and then rested there, squeezing
tight.
Where he’d usually get annoyed over such a gesture, this time he didn’t give a damn.
An excited, butterfly-like beating in his chest overcame any other thought as his eyes
searched for a red stain in a sea of other swimmers, slowly getting back on their feet. He
needed to see it: that happiness, that electric toothy smile, always stirring something weirdly
fantastic inside of him.
To share the moment they both needed like salt.
Where are you?
“Okay, tadpoles, here’s the deal.” Hirai clapped, excitedly, turning to the tall woman in her
thirties next to him, while her green, definitely not Japanese eyes scanned Haruka with
interest. “Bauman-sensei and I are now going back to my office to consult. You all are to wait
for the results in the locker room. We should deliver in no more than an hour, so don’t go
running around too much.”
It was hard to tell what made the men around Haruka more surprised while he searched
among the crowd—either the way their trainer didn’t use a single curse in an utterly whole
monologue, or the fact there was actually anything to consult.
The fastest of them was the fastest, right?
Hagino’s pouting face said just about the same as he walked past Haruka, heading to the
showers. It probably wasn’t the best feeling, he thought with satisfaction, to be dethroned so
easily—especially by someone like Haruka—someone that had never seemed to be true
competition for the man before.
No, he didn’t envy Hagino this.
Where the hell are you?
His eyes roamed around, but there was nothing but a bunch of swimmers resignedly
discussing something, throwing unbelieving looks his way. The rest had already left for the
locker rooms after Hirai and the woman, and there was no place to hide.
Unless there, in fact, was.
“You nailed it.”
The familiar voice was warm when Haruka’s eyes snapped to the pool, but its tone wore a
strange, uncharacteristic melancholy.
It pushed his heart into an unsteady, irregular rhythm at once.
The beautiful face was smiling softly, long body hidden in water; arms folded on the pool’s
edge held Rin from floating away while Haruka scanned the man thoroughly.
“You’re not getting out?” he heard himself ask, unable to formulate the real question.
The man shrugged, red eyes turning down to the tile floor, avoiding the contact Haruka
craved, and all the happiness instantly vaporized as the gentle smile wavered.
Turned a little bit sadder, worlds more disappointed.
“I think I’ll stay in for a while, if you don’t mind.”
Water droplets ran down Rin’s forehead and cheeks, falling down to the water’s surface.
No, of course Haruka didn’t mind.
His weirdly pulsating temples maybe did, though, as well as the rising pressure behind his
eyes.
“I’ll wait,” he found himself saying automatically, letting his suddenly stiff body down to the
ground, legs hanging over the edge.
Not daring to think about what it all meant, at that moment; what had just really happened. It
wasn’t time to analyze what exactly went wrong, why the man wasn’t standing next to him
with a winner’s aura floating around him like usual.
Only his fingers twitched in his lap as the man’s eyes blinked a few times, mind behind them
searching for a polite way to send Haruka away.
To be alone at least for a while.
“You don’t have to. I don’t know how long I’ll be—”
“That’s fine.”
He didn’t hold it against the man that he didn’t want company, but leaving the spot now was
simply not a possibility.
Cold fingers curled around his ankle to squeeze reassuringly, and with a last sober smile Rin
turned away, eyes lingering back a bit too long before diving under the surface—kind of
searching, kind of confused.
Kind of annoyed.
Haruka kept his hands in fists even as a veil of his own hair fell over his face, making the
water under his feet a temporary centre of his universe. No, of course he couldn’t find the
right words to say.
Like always.
But what was there to say in a situation like this?
That it’s alright? That it didn’t matter?
Because of course it did matter that he most likely was going to get a place on the plane to
Qatar, and Rin didn’t. That he won, and Rin didn’t. That the man now probably thought
Haruka was going to leave him behind, although he didn’t even have time to process what
had just happened, least to say to know what to do.
Today hadn’t been any different from yesterday’s race during training, Haruka reflected with
a pounding heart. He had felt the same as his fingertips touched water; with Rin still there
somewhere. They hadn’t raced in adjacent lanes today, that much was true, but Haruka had
felt him strong and alive; his presence shining on the other side of the pool like a powerful
magnet pulling him forward.
Pushing so strong it was almost too easy to win.
The connection was there, undoubtedly, and Haruka was so sure that the feeling went both
ways—just like yesterday during training when the two of them had almost tied, beating
Hagino with ease—it hadn’t even crossed his mind that it might not happen again.
That confidence seemed to be, simply put, tragically premature.
Letting his eyes wander up from the water, there was a regular movement of arms through the
surface. Cutting the distance to the place Haruka sat like a train, and there was something
weird, disturbingly furious about it—activating the defense mode of his brain for a short
moment.
Only he wasn’t going to be attacked as strong legs pushed against the wall at the turn and
carried Rin astonishingly quickly away.
Leaving just the need to reach out after the old memory behind.
But this wasn’t the past anymore, he told himself, fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs,
and they were not kids. Rin wasn’t kneeling on the cold floor, and Haruka wasn’t the one
who slew his hopes of winning to dust.
This wasn’t the last time they would swim together, and it most definitely wasn’t the last time
they would see each other.
He’s not going anywhere.
Sun painted its magic on the pool’s surface, powerful beams strong through his thin eyelids.
And when he dared to open his eyes again, the sudden lack of colours around was alarming
and sickening, even though it was nothing but the light’s fault.
Damn.
In the end it took almost two full hours until Hirai’s steps resonated on the lino floor of the
corridor, an open door bringing the sour sound of Haruka’s success. The tall woman entered
right after, traces of tiredness on both their faces communicated that whatever the decision of
the Committee was, it wasn’t an easy one.
Haruka sighed, face turned down to his knees, fighting the urge to scoot closer to Rin on the
narrow bench. But there was no place to hide, no way to avoid all the eyes on him once the
trainer’s mouth would open, delivering the verdict.
He didn’t want to hear it.
Murmur of the locker room entered like a dull and shallow echo into his brain, instantly
turning into heavy blasts of unease once inside.
“Okay, is everybody here?” Hirai’s rough voice sounded exhausted as he stood in the middle
of the locker room, bringing all attention to him and—as it turned out—the German lady by
his side. Her lips were pursed tightly, and judging by the whispering around the room,
Haruka wasn’t the only one who noticed the heavy tension between the two.
The small man cleared his throat, looking to his notes, searching for either a clue or runaway
courage.
“The FINA Committee has made its decision regarding participation at The World
Swimming Championship in Doha, Qatar, and it is going to be announced right now by
Bauman-sensei.”
The small man’s eyes met the woman’s serious ones for a brief moment before stepping
aside, and Haruka’s mind seized with impromptu realization.
I want it.
It was simple, and it was disappointing.

“Since I’ve already been introduced, I think we may safely focus on the participants’
announcement,” the woman said in decent Japanese, looking around the room with
confidence of a successful athlete, although a former one.
Rin let out a long breath next to him, leaned his head against the wall behind, and Haruka
pushed his head deeper between his knees.
He was starting to feel sick, and the man’s leg bouncing in distress in the corner of his field
of vision didn’t help too much, either.
“The decision process was surprisingly eventful this year, and so are the results. I have to say
I was a little skeptical at the beginning.”
The plastic of goggles in Haruka’s hands screeched under the pressure of his hands while
Rin’s sneaker rapped a wild rhythm against the lino floor. The woman talked and talked then,
unstoppable, and the wood of the bench was suddenly too hard to sit on without a single
movement.
Its edge cut into Haruka’s flesh through the layer of his clothes while his mind ran elsewhere,
quickly spinning out of control.
He wanted it badly, there was no denying.
But as his eyes wandered to Hagino and his poorly played apathy, he already knew what his
answer would be—if he was ever going to be asked, though.
Because leaving the city for several days, with Rin here alone with his own demons, might as
well mean he could return back to nothing.
It was the truth undeniable, and it had nothing to do with freedom.
Rin’s body felt a thousand miles away, and Haruka’s wooziness got even worse as he closed
his eyes to get his stomach under control. A neon lamp on the ceiling flickered with last
dying breaths, its light disappearing amidst the wild movement in the locker room.
He blinked, waking up from the stupor, only to fall right back in.
Something like spat chewing gum landed close to his foot, and half of the men were suddenly
on their feet, one yelling over another like damned raging animals.
The Committee woman looked too shocked to breathe, eyes wide with terror. With hands
held high in the air, Hirai was failing miserably to calm the ruckus down, and it was
impossible to hear his own thoughts, least to say words coming out of the man’s moving
mouth.
And Rin’s face was white like paper when he searched it for an explanation; lips snowy under
the pressure, jaw firmly set. Dark shadows of eyelashes hid diluted, unfocused pupils from
Haruka’s miserable, desperate attempts to meet the intense red gaze.
But it vanished somewhere in the crests of the dark blue lino—either oblivious, but more like
ignoring him on purpose.
Without thinking his hand shot up, resting on the marble-like cheek.
And it was the second time in a span of twenty four hours that Rin shied away from his
touch, face burning with an unfamiliar emotion and the very apparent question, was Haruka
an idiot or something, doing such a thing here.
Like last night, like now, it had its rational explanation, and he understood.
Like last night, like now, his fingertips burned the same afterwards.
“I’m not taking this.” Angry and deafeningly loud, Hagino’s voice reverberated in the room,
and the rest of swimmers seemed to finally shut their damned mouths and listen as he pointed
at his own chest. “I had the second best time. Everyone knows that, although for some reason
we still haven’t seen the actual times. So if there’s two spots, then I am getting the other one.
Not him.”
Hagino’s finger relocated towards Rin’s cadaverous face, voice shaking with pent-up fury.
“He was barely fourth today.”
A hand rested on the man’s shoulder, and then a second—a silent plea of his friends to calm
down. Men around shifted their feet, eyes wandering from one to another. Some curious, but
most just openly uncomfortable.
No one in the locker room seemed to like the sudden change of atmosphere. It was one thing
to disagree with The Committee decision, but entering an argument this way was scarcely
seen and rarely tolerated.
“The Committee’s decision is final, and it’s based on more than times, kid. But you’re free to
file a complaint anytime you want.”
Hirai’s hard face showed he was expecting this kind of reaction after the announcement.
Prepared and ready to stand against the resistance, he straightened into his full height—small,
but somehow dignified.
“You bet I’m gonna do that,” the star spat, turning on his heal and stomping to the door.
Knuckles white on the door handle, he turned one last time, facing the trainer.
“Think twice about what you’re gonna say, kid,” Hirai said slowly, anticipating the poisonous
closure.
When Hagino’s voice reflected against the walls again, the German woman seemed to be
close to fainting.
“It’s one thing Nanase can’t swim to save his life without him around, we all know that
much. But you’re a trainer, not a nanny. Pack him in Nanase’s suitcase, or whatever. Don’t go
fucking giving the man a spot he didn’t earn.”
With that he was gone, leaving an awkward silence in his stead.
“Well, any other objections?” The small man breathed out, wiping his sweaty face into a
handkerchief, and Haruka realized it was the way he was clenching the bench that was
causing an almost unbearable pain in his knuckles. “Fine. Dismissed. Get the hell out. Now.”
The shock didn’t recede as Haruka kept staring forth.
Not even when Rin’s body next to him launched up, fingers almost ripping the locker’s door
from its hinges. Snatching the bag with force, its strap slapped the back of Haruka’s head.
Not painfully; just enough to make him look up to the expressionless, straight face.
He’s going to cry.
There was no way to stop the man from running away now; Haruka knew it and could do
nothing about it.
He just hoped it was to his home only, not anywhere further.
“Don’t mind him, dude, he’s not serious.” A voice stopped Rin’s hands in their furious battle
with clothes that refused to get into his bag and brought Haruka’s eyes to the swimmer
smiling on the other side of the locker room.
He vaguely remembered his name, but had never really talked to the guy before.
“Yeah.” The other member of The Princesses joined the attempt to ease the suffocating
tension. “He’s just a bit pissed off now, s’all. He’ll get over it once he’s all calmed down.”
A dark, incomprehensible murmur came from above, and a locker door shut with a loud
bang, but Haruka didn’t dare to look again.
“Are you coming, or what?” The words brought Haruka’s hazy eyes up, after all.
And there was no way to keep the happiness from exploding inside of his heart like colourful
fireworks.
He’s waiting for me?
Hastily he nodded, a spark of hope flashing full force inside of his chest.
Everything was okay, everything was totally fine.
Rin wasn’t that angry, after all. Maybe Haruka misjudged it all.
“Hey, we were about to throw a party tonight,” said someone outside of Haruka’s spinning
world. “Should’ve been for Hagino, but screw him. Doesn’t matter who’s the winner, as long
as it stays in the team, right? At my place?”
Rin’s almost white fingers pulled on the bag’s strap, scanning the boy’s face with downturned
lips, and he didn’t say a single word while he waited for shaken Haruka to finally catch up.
“Hey, you!” Someone yelled good-heartedly as the door was closing behind them, but
hunched shoulders didn’t move an inch. “Bring that ex-girlfriend along, if you’re coming,
too. We’ll be good, I promise.”
Rin’s steps were long and quick in the echoing corridor, and it was hard to keep the pace
when the man seemed to walk on a faster spinning planet. In no time Haruka fell behind,
fingers burning in the pockets of his hoodie at the sight of the quickly rising distance.
Wait for me, dammit.
But he most definitely wasn’t going to do the same stupid thing again—to reach out, to grab a
hold of the man while he was in this state.
Getting rejected two times in a row was just enough.
Please.
***
“Welcome to the very first Toyo University Festival 2014 meeting. I know each faculty
member is terribly busy with work on their own section, but we’re here to coordinate our
effort and bring it to a fruitful and successful finish line.”
Heavy clouds rolled over the sky like fat sheep, greyness behind the window promising at
least a light sprinkle, and Haruka was pretty sure the reason for it was the overly excited boy
occupying the front of the classroom. Several minutes of half-hearted listening—or more like
staring out of the window to the university gardens—and even he felt like crying. With every
word, spoken in an affected, pretentious voice, with each pompous movement of his hand the
boy was quickly losing Haruka’s attention, until he had exactly none.
Not that he minded the boy’s screaming sexuality, obviously, but just how much was too
much?
Chin digging into the flesh of his palm, Haruka thought there wasn’t any reason to listen,
anyway.
He was here just because he had to be, and no one expected anything from him except to be
present. At least that was what Rachel had claimed this morning as she finally bothered to
notify him about his not-so-voluntary participation with a white, flashing American smile.
Only now, sitting next to him she looked jumpy and edgy; ready to explode at any moment.
She would either break to tears or kick someone’s head off the moment 'Faculty of
Letters' came out of the boy’s annoying mouth, that much was sure.
At least he wasn’t the only one with a shitty day behind.

“Give me the papers, Haru.”
With a heavy sigh escaping through his nose, he forced his limbs to move for the first time
since throwing his ass down on the chair. With fingers stiff he reached for his bag and felt
around it blindly.
A pen, a yellow marker, a phone; all disappearing within the depths of the bag after each
clumsy touch. Too many books, a small plastic sack, and finally—a copied version of his
notebook.
“Thanks,” she whispered, skimming through the lists, even though she’d seen them a hundred
times in their original version. A beat of silence preceded her muted voice again. “It’s really
good, you know? Like... I’m really impressed, Haru.”
Fine, fine.
Haruka hummed noncommittally, pulling the unknown sack out and turning it back and forth
in his fingers.
“But.” A nervous sigh. “I need to ask you something.”
How did this thing get in there?
And what the hell was it?
“Have you, by any chance, been inside my office as of late? I mean... like without my
presence.”
“What?” Haruka let out, weirded out by the unexpected question, eyes scanning the way
plastic straps were tied on the sack’s top so nothing would fall out. Its front wore the name of
an unfamiliar shop, but the logo spoke of a pharmacy, or something similar.
Ripping the plastic with an annoyed sigh, he narrowed his eyes in a vain attempt to decipher
the strange looking characters on top of the box. The silence was filled with nothing more
than a soft rattling sound as he slowly turned it around and Rachel’s inner fight while she
gathered the courage to ask one more time.
He had a very bad feeling about both.
“Did you, or did you not break into my office earlier today and take the originals of all your
works? I swear, if you tell me the truth, it’ll stay between us two. But I have to know.”
“Hmph?”
Haruka’s eyes snapped to the uptight girl in a vain hope for some kind of explanation.
“Why would I do that?”
But her own were downcast, long eyelashes fluttering wildly, pink lips turned into the shape
of a small, cute 'o'. And following her gaze to his own hands it finally, ultimately, caught up
even with him.
Yes, yes, he officially had the slowest brain in the whole, endless universe.
With a speed that must have broken records, Haruka pushed the box of condoms into the
bag’s depths, wide eyes glued straight to the corridor between school-desks.
What the actual fuck?
He swallowed. He cleared his throat. He shifted uncomfortably on the chair.
He forced his stare out of the window again, fighting hard to keep his face straight.
Well, to be honest, this time Nagisa had really gone too far. And he was only sure about one
thing while he waited for Rachel to stand up and run away from the psychopath next to her,
who just checked on his sex supplies in the middle of a festival prep meeting.
The little brat was going to beg to die a painful, long death when Haruka was finished with
him.
“Well,” his teacher said, voice wavering, and rose up to speak as she seemed to have been
called to the front of the classroom. “It sure wouldn’t be the first time, would it?“
It took him a serious while to understand she was still, in fact, talking about the break-in to
her office nonsense and not his sexual experiences.
What the fuck was Nagisa even thinking, doing such a thing?
Besides the obvious fact that the little brat would tell him otherwise—although Haruka was
pretty sure surprise spiced up with humiliation was exactly what he was going for—it wasn’t
making things any easier.
Haruka wasn’t stupid. Wasn’t any saint, too.
What good would it do to deny that he could barely think of anything else since the moment
Rin had pressed him against the wall in front of the dance club and pushed his tongue down
his throat?
It was exactly what Haruka wanted, after all.
It had never really crossed his mind, though, that the imaginary world of his jerking-off
fantasies might actually turn real one day.
Fantasies of him, of Rin, of a dark room with a messed-up bed, fully occupied by two men’s
moving bodies; damp sheets on the ground.
Of Rin’s hot sweat mingling with his own; two crazily beating hearts; his own name on Rin’s
lips. Of teeth marks on shoulders and hips, slowly coming out visible.
“Let me introduce you to the author of a booklet.” Rachel’s voice came to him like from the
other end of a tunnel, hotness burning up his neck, and everything around felt weirdly, almost
horrifyingly real all of a sudden. “As well as impossibly fantastic translations that you can
find over there on the table at the back. I’d like to form some idea of the quality, which is
truly exquisite, so please allow me at least to read a short excerpt of a poem.”
As if the unbelievable reality had finally caught up with him. As if the sweet ache flooding
from his chest down his body was a palpable proof his life was not the same anymore.
Someone cleared their throat.
Someone opened a window.
A nervous, still a bit shocked smile crossed Rachel’s face before her eyes fell down to the
papers in her hands.
And meanwhile, Rin was his. Meanwhile, Rin wanted to do all those things with him.
For real.
“Listen! I will be honest with you. I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new
prizes. These are the days that must happen to you.”
A big oak in the school garden swayed slowly to the wind, naturally accepting its pace and
submitting to the wordlessly blown orders.
Oblivious to the fact that two days ago—not a year, or a month, but two fucking days—
Haruka would’ve never thought he would be sitting here, clutching onto a bottle of extra
smooth lube as if his damned life depended on it.
Making it look like being with Rin in this way was a normal, ordinary thing to do—not a
reason for running up to the school roof and either doing a happy dance or jumping off of it
straight.
“However convenient the dwellings, you shall not remain there. However sheltered the port,
and however calm the waters, you shall not anchor there.”
Haruka would happily stand up, unbuckle his pants and run to the man bare naked right now
—the thought had actually crossed his mind—but it wasn’t that simple.
“Afoot and light-hearted, take to the open road.”
For starters, it wasn’t as if he had any space for doing such things—not with half of the world
occupying his condo, and who knew when Rin was getting his new place that Nagisa had
mentioned before?
Should he ask?
The wind outside seemed to be getting stronger, bending the old oak’s branches to the side,
and Haruka couldn’t stop the track of his thoughts even if he wanted.
Because who knew, right?
Who knew what Rin’s face looked like while coming?
“I give you my love, more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law.”
Who knew what sounds he made at that very moment.
“Will you give me yourself?”
A moan, or rather something like a growl?
Picking up one of Rachel’s pencils, scattered over the desk, Haruka sighed into the stale air of
the classroom, wishing to turn the clock on the wall forward.
Just calm the fuck down.
No, it most certainly wasn’t the best idea to rush—after everything and everyone. It would be
much, much better to wait for things to settle down a bit; for the pressure to ease.
After today’s amazing happenings, to add, it was a billion yen question what the inside of
Rin’s mind looked like.
A pencil’s tip dug deeply into the weak desk’s wood as Rachel’s voice finally delivered the
end of the poem in a sweet voice.
“Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?”
How is he going to have me?
***
Yamazaki S:
[ Wanna hang out tonight? 18:04 ]
[ Sorry, I can’t. 18:15 ]
[ Thought he’s out with princess of darkness for some party 18:19 ]
[ We’re going together. 18:25 ]
[ ROFL good luck. Care to explain? 18:35 ]
[ Do you want to come along? 18:47 ]
[ Another group meeting? Nah, I think I’ll pass, thanks 18:53 ]

[ Or do you need a buffer? 18:56 ]
[ I really don’t mind going, dolphin. 19:15 ]
[ It’s fine. Thank you. 19:36 ]
[ Call if it’s too much 19:39 ]
It was the reek of a cheap meal coming from some other dirty apartment in the house—like
meat that had been left for too long in the heat or something—that turned his stomach upside
down. It was the unstoppable blaring of something that could hardly be called music.
People’s fucking voices on the streets.
It was the prospect of a night spent alongside her instead of pushing unstoppable fingers
under Rin’s shirt somewhere in the dark.
It was a 'you deserve a celebration' in almost artistically varied ways all three times Haruka
had dared to open his mouth and object he did not, in fact, need any.
It was the distant, yet still traceable taste of tobacco on Rin’s tongue, hidden under the
candy’s sweetness as the man had met him under the stairs of his building with a smile. It
was fifteen endless minutes of meaningless talking—probably to fill the silence, conceived
and pampered by Haruka’s sealed lips after this lovable realization.
It was the impossibility of being able to shut Rin’s mouth with a damned kiss, or hold his
hand. To run fingers through his slowly growing hair; to loop a finger into his back pocket.
To place a fucking palm on his cheek in a packed locker room, because they were both men
in damned public.
It was the fact he hadn’t jerked off for weeks.
Or that he had had exactly nothing to add to the extremely funny 'Australia' conversation
between the three as he pushed ahead through the crowd filling the old market of the city’s
poor quarter, turned the corner to the narrow side street for a party he’d do anything to avoid,
and walked down the corridor of his teammate’s house, leaving Rin and the girls in tow.
It was nothing, and everything, and it didn’t really matter what it truly was.
Now Rin was looking at him with an expression of a wounded animal, as if the world was
about to end any second just on Haruka’s command. And in reality it might have been less
than two minutes of silent waiting for the door to open, but it felt like the whole ice age had
passed in the meantime, and it wasn’t time to analyze the reasons.
Haruka sighed, eyes falling to his muddy sneakers. Unable to decide if it was bad or even
worse that Rin wasn’t the only one who had heard him speak out, he thanked gods when the
door handle finally shook with force of someone on the other side.
He thought the words were silent enough to be covered by the deafening metal song coming
through walls and his own shuffling steps. Meant to no one and everyone at the same time,
not really angry; just a stupid way to let the sour steam off.
Shut up.
But with each joined memory of places Haruka had never been, and never would go to, of
every friend he had never met, of every single thing recalled by Rin’s laughing voice, it was
harder to believe several hours ago he couldn’t wait for the night to come.
Night skinny dipping with some Lisa and Pete.
Shut up.
That prawn at Doyle’s is to die for. You should definitely try it out, Haru.
Shut up.
Some ugly Melanie girl trying to blow Rin a kiss in front of the whole crew.
Shut the fuck up.
“Hey,” someone yelled drunkenly over the music as the door opened, but he couldn’t look up,
not with a pair of glimmering eyes glued to the side of his face and his own irritation briskly
mutating into blinding guilt. “The champion’s here!”
An insistent arm curled around his shoulders before he had any chance to even start
formulating any believable apology, and pulled him inside.
The apartment might have otherwise looked normal while humble, but now it looked worse
than a sump. And squinting into the dark Haruka understood this was unlike any party he had
ever been to in his whole life.
Some of The Princesses were present, but beside them the room was full of people he’d never
seen in his whole life. Mostly women, though, skimpily clothed and barely of legal age.
Some people danced, some people laughed; not a single one was sober. It was not an actual
question—alcohol was far the weakest poison those people ran onto.
Over there in the corner Hagino’s skinny best friend was feeling a blond two times bigger
than him.
Two girls made out against the counter of a small adjacent kitchen, and the redhead one
didn’t mind a hand in her short shorts in the least.
“Look everyone! Nanase the fucking boss’s finally here!” A boy that Haruka distantly
registered from the team yelled into the room, and a few faces turned their way.
Shaking an annoying arm off of his shoulders he fought the almost uncontrollable urge to
turn around and run for the hills.
“Come on, everybody! Raise your fucking glasses to the champion. He’s gonna slaughter
them all there.”
They did, indeed, half of the crowd howling something incomprehensible as Haruka scanned
the filthy scene—as if they really could feel happy for him—and it almost made the two
words coming from behind his back disappear in the blinding noise.
Words miles distant from his own from a while ago, nice and polite, yet hitting the target
equally precisely.
“To you.”
Haruka turned his head around slowly, meeting a smile that was genuinely happy and cracked
at the same time—a combination such schizophrenic it was hard to believe it existed. A small
nod and then the contents of a beer bottle ended in Rin’s mouth.
A bitterly loving gaze lingered on him even when Haruka trembled, and he didn’t know, had
no idea what was worse: the adoration or the crushing disappointment in those perfectly
shaped eyes. And suddenly he could see how the night had been planned to be a nice time
together, a shared moment of joy—even though it didn’t match his own ideas—and how it
was everything but.
Jane looked pained when he dared to look her way, and she obviously wasn’t the only one
who noticed the remnants of glee over the participation in Qatar fly out of their small bubble,
digging its grave in the dried out flowerpots on the window.
Anna spoke flatly, bringing the very first good idea of the day.
“We’ve come, we’ve partied. Mission accomplished, let’s get out of here.”
“No.” A stubborn shake of a red head, and Haruka watched, unease knotting his stomach,
how the girls exchanged concerned looks. “I’ve told you Haru deserves a proper celebration.
Now let’s find us all something to drink.”
Maybe he should just reach out and grab the forearm, Haruka thought, drag Rin out of the
stinky hole to the god’s light. Kiss him senseless and just go with the flow then. Try his best
to squeeze a goddamned apology out; to find words to say it was all okay, that today hadn’t
really happened. That there would be countless other competitions, that there would be Rio,
damn it. That this time didn’t really count.
That no one was better than the other just because a stopwatch said so.
That they were in this together.
But a sparkle burned violently in red eyes before Rin disappeared into the kitchen, and he
didn’t do any of it in the end.
A small hand rested on his cowardly shoulder, and the side of Jane’s face seemed troubled
when she stood next to him.
“He’s really not coming, tonight, is he?”
“No,” Haruka said to the deafening refrain of another hard-rock piece of art, contemplating
his conversation with Makoto might have not been enough, after all.
His best friend’s 'no' had been firm enough earlier tonight, but, honestly, Haruka hadn’t
pushed too much. It was understandable exams took all of the man’s energy to the point of no
return.
With a purse of her lips and a small, tired nod she disappeared in the kitchen, tip-toeing
around the pair who in the meantime had started to take it seriously on the dirty, stained
counter.
“I hate this kind of music,” an already familiar, disgusted voice said somewhere close to his
ear, and Haruka closed his eyes for a moment, wishing it was just a nightmare. “Let’s get
some air outside."
He sighed, looking to the other side.
Was she insane?
Did she really think they were going to talk?
As if nothing had happened, as if they got along?
He didn’t know what to do with her presence in Rin’s life and, yes, he apparently could do
next to nothing about it, but it didn’t mean the two of them were friends, or that he had to like
her any better just because she wasn’t the girlfriend anymore.
Anna might be aware of all that as she spoke again, though, eyes following after a young girl
exiting the apartment to join her friends on the tiny terrace.
“Just so you know, I asked him to take me along tonight, and he allowed me to talk to you
this one time.” The old door to the terrace opened again to the surprisingly warm night as she
pushed against the dirty glass and added in a voice quieter, somewhat different from her usual
sassy self. “Let’s get over it soon, Haruka. I might have overestimated myself tonight.”
Either it was the unbearable need to hit his head against the wall, the way the silhouette of her
back against the street lamp looked strangely bony and fragile, or it was nothing but complete
madness that made Haruka follow her outside.
The small terrace was even filthier than the rest of the apartment, but at least people here
seemed an inch more sober, and it was easier to breathe without music blasting through his
chest. He watched her park next to a group of smoking, horny athletes, and lit up her own
cigarette with the confidence of someone who didn’t give a shit about what they had to offer.
Of a girl who knew someone light years better than they could ever be, counted and
multiplied.
In that regard, Haruka could very much relate.

“So,” she started when he finally approached her cautiously, hands in his pockets, and leaned
against the brick wall. “I would like to assure you there’s nothing to worry about from my
side. I’ve told him many times, and now I’m telling you.”
A moment of silence passed as Haruka’s surprised eyes scanned the side of her face, lips
taking another long intake of smoke.
“I won’t do, or say a word against you and your... relationship, that I promise, and you have
to believe me.”
Stepping aside for a too-young looking girl who spewed her dinner, lunch, and probably even
breakfast at their feet, Haruka faltered.
Completely, utterly befuddled, he wasn’t afraid to admit this was something he never
expected to hear from her; not in a million years.
Her eyes spoke loudly while she waited for her words to sink in: he was too slow. But he
couldn’t do differently, couldn’t fight the need to ask.
“Why?”
“What do you mean 'why'?" Anna asked, irritation shaking her voice, apparently much more
than she wanted.
The cigarette in her fingers trembled wildly, and there wasn’t an inch of warmth in the words
as she spat them in a rush, a flood gate opening with a definite bang.
“Because this is what he wants, because he’s trying so hard to make it work, and I’ve never
seen him like that before. Just because.” A long intake of smoke into her lungs again, and she
let it out through her nose shakily while Haruka hesitated, needing much more time to
process what he had just heard than just a few seconds. “Because he’s horrified I, or anyone
for that matter, am going to hurt you in some way, and you will run for the hills.”
Haruka blinked stupidly, eyes travelling from a group of boys, trying to get a desperately
drunk girl back on her feet again, through the chiseled roofs of buildings on the opposite side
of the street, to Anna’s frame shaking next to him like a leaf in the wind.
With her chin held high, vivid blue eyes anchored to the slowly dying plant hung on the brick
wall, she looked just as she always had—strong and unbeatable. Only her forearms reminded
him more of sticks than a human’s limbs now, and a too pale face refused to turn to him as
she swallowed, obviously aware of the scrutiny.
He didn’t feel like pitying her—she wasn’t of the kind—nor did he want to feel bad for her.
They had had their fair share of drama together, and it was quite unbelievable that she’d give
up just like that.
“Although judging by tonight you’re just as unworthy as I’ve always known,” she said,
smiling sadly somewhere in the direction of the stained, dirty door. Rin’s face was slightly
blurred and anxious behind the glass when Haruka followed her forlorn gaze. “You two
haven’t even started yet, and already you’re making him unhappy.”
A dark, desperate chuckle, and she tipped the stub against the wall, looking after it as it fell
down to the street underneath.
The terrace was empty except for them by then, and the wind blew warm when her voice
broke.
“I hate you so much, Haruka. So, so much.”
He could see nothing but a spooked, loving red spark on the other side of the glass, glued to
his own eyes restlessly, and he understood.
“You would never believe how much.”
That her words weren’t personal—just like it hadn’t been when he had pushed Rin’s text
messages into her face the night that now felt eras ago. That she would have said them to
anyone standing in his place right now.
“Ditto,” he breathed out, feeling her eyes snap to the side of his face.
Ditto.
Technically he had no reason for it; Rin was his, and she just claimed she didn’t stand in their
way anymore.
But you could do nothing about the way the other person felt, just as much as you couldn’t
change your own heart.
She laughed silently—a desperate, shattering sound—before leaning over the sticky handrail,
and Haruka realized she was doing this all and far more for the man on the other side of the
door. Willing to sacrifice everything, even her sanity, she didn’t have any other choice but to
stay around. Just like he himself had to, back when Rin had returned from Australia for the
first time.
Sometimes the price you had to pay wasn’t that important.
“Would you believe,” she said, giving out a hoarse chuckle, and for a moment Haruka
thought she was going to cry. But that wasn’t her style, and he was pretty sure she’d rather
drown in her own spit than let him see her like that. “That until the day I met you, I thought
the face he made the very first time he saw me actually meant he fell in love with me right
away? Hah...”
Her eyes turned to him for a second, showing this was something she most probably had
never told anyone about, and never would. His own eyes fell down to the empty bottles and
vomit under their feet, and he wiped some of it against the railing before leaning next to her
with a sigh.
She expected to be laughed at, but it didn’t seem to matter to her, at this point.
There was nothing embarrassing or stupid about hoping for love, he wanted to say, but rather
didn’t, in the end. She didn’t come to chat tonight, and he wasn’t the right person to console
her.
Lit-up windows on the other side of the street offered other people’s lives to them like two
stalkers on duty.
Somebody fought on the second floor; an old man lay down to sleep on the fourth.
“I swear, if your mom ever tells you we’re cousins from a fifth degree, or something like that,
you’d rather cut your head off than go running to me with it.”
And just like that, another unbelievable thing happened tonight.
Haruka chuckled, lowering his chin to his chest.
“She wants to meet your father,” he said, at length, remembering his mother’s demand when
nothing disrupted the peace but the wind blowing through her long hair for too long.
The horrified expression on Anna’s face made his lips stretch once again.
“I don’t think that’s the reason.”
“It better not be.”
Her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit, but it was sure a relief temporary. Hugging her body tight
she soon fell into silence again.
And Haruka reflected on what it was about Rin that made them both love him to the point of
madness, a devil’s hand across their hearts.
He knew from his own experience that the path Anna was about to take was a damned one,
with nothing but disaster at its end. How long would she be able to handle it? He lived
through it less than a week, watching the man in somebody else’s arms, and it had almost
broken him down.
But she was stronger than him, after all.
“I have something to ask you for,” she said silently, face turned towards the windy night sky,
messy hair sticking to her lips. “But if you want me to beg.”
The moon was round and giant when she took in a long breath, closing her eyes for a
moment.
“I’ll beg.”
Chapter End Notes

See you (hopefully) soon, guys.
Chapter 13
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
How are you all doing? I know it took me an eternity this time, and I’m genuinely sorry.
So... where to start? There’s so much I need to tell you, and I have to say, my heart feels
really heavy. I love you all, I do. Each one of you who has ever hit the kudos button,
commented on this work, or just read it under the duvet when everyone in the house fell
asleep :)) I’m feeling so grateful for all the positive energy that has ever come from you,
and I will never stop thinking of you with happiness and joy.
Did it sound like a good-bye? I guess it did, even though it’s not – at least not
completely. I love writing this thing to the core of my heart, that much is true, and it is
never going to change. But the fact is, with the current way my life goes now, I’m not
sure when I will be able to bring you another chapter. If I ever will, to be honest.
I know I’ve said it before that I’ve never EVER left any of my stories unfinished, and
that’s true. This could be the very first time. But among other things I’ve been struggling
hard to find motivation as of lately – as my poor beta has been listening about all the
damn time :) – and I only have to find my way back to it.
So I’m not saying good-bye yet, and if I has to, in the end, I will definitely come back
here to do it properly. Anyway, I’ll try my best to keep up going, that much I can
promise, and I’m humbly asking for your patience.
Like always, a huge thank you goes to marbled_maven for editing, all the incredible
help, support and patient ears while listening to my whining. :))
Last, but not least, a very personal message for Titty_Now_Titty_Later: I didn't mean to
scare you off :) Thank you for all your comments. They might have stirred something
inside, but that's cool. I like the way you talk (or write). Please comment anytime you
feel like it :)
As for now, you all go enjoying the chapter, and I hope to see you here again.
Love you all.
Life has its own course, once going left, only to take a sharp turn to the right. Always
uncontrollable.
People keep tactlessly dying, denying you the basic right to decide whether you need them,
or not. Some head off for a big world, leaving you behind with promises of return they don’t
believe themselves; and who could count all the times you heard 'There, there, you’re not a
child, stop crying' over the phone?
Others fight their way into your world, oblivious to whether you want them in or not—
enemies, and friends, and secret crushes, too. Never curious about your opinion, they don’t
really give a damn about what you have to say. About the way you are left breathless most of
the time, unable to get used to the newly taken tracks of your life.
No one ever asks anything.
Until, for what it’s worth, there comes a moment you’re given the power to decide
something, and you find out it might have been easier before.
Now Anna stood there next to him, breeze picking up her pitch black hair. Too pale to be
healthy, too hoping to keep a smug smile up. With eyes cautious she glanced at him, the last
flicker of hope burning white, and Haruka didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he
rather pushed them into pockets.
“He told me it doesn’t really matter what you say. It won’t change anything.”
The wind tortured fragile flower buds on a neglected plant hanging on the wall, stems
dancing madly, and he wished she would just finish already. It was already almost midnight,
the love of his life waited inside for him, and they had no time to lose to make the rest of this
day at least a little better.
“So what’s the point then?” he asked, turning his face away from her, sighing.
She must have already known his answer, even before articulating the most absurd plea he
had heard from her.
A soft, bitter chuckle reached his ears, and a long while passed before Anna leaned fully
against the veranda’s railing and spoke.
“You really do want me to beg, don’t you? You’re enjoying this.”
“No,” Haruka said, not completely convinced about his own answer, either.
It was impossible to deny how unbelievable it was, having their positions swapped like this in
no more than a few weeks.
And he really wanted to feel bad for her the moment she said Rin asked her to return back to
Sydney, only the happiness was too genuine. Unstoppable and wholehearted. They could get
rid of her for good, and how amazing was it that the demand had come directly from Rin’s
mouth?
It was sadistic, and it was low, but he wished he could have been there to listen to that
conversation.
“You’re not asking why I want to stay,” Anna said, and it was more a comment rather than a
question. He shrugged, fighting the need to run inside and push his wide smile into the crook
of Rin’s neck, but her eyes were covering desperation as she spoke again. Clearly, it wasn’t
going to take long, anyway. “Could you at least try to hide how happy you are?”
No.
How could he, when Rin had been trying to make it work like he had said? Taking all the
steps to make him feel safe, to fix all the past mistakes. If this wasn’t the sweetest of all
proofs, than Haruka didn’t know what else could be.
If only she could let them be for good, if only she didn’t want him to do something about
Rin’s plea, then it would all be perfect.
And it wasn’t like the last time, when they had talked about Rin in his room. It wasn’t about
fighting a war, despite what she probably thought. He didn’t need any revenge against her.
Rin had broken up with her, had made his decision of who he wanted to spend his life with.
He had jumped into Haruka’s arms mere days after they had met again after months of
separation and silence, because it was the most natural thing to do.
Because it was meant to be that way.
She had claimed to be his worst enemy once, but even she had no chance against what
connected the two of them. Matsuoka and Nanase—they simply belonged together, from the
outset, since they were little kids.
So why shouldn’t he smile when even Rin finally got this simple fact through his thick skull?
Now they were here, with her begging someone who she hated deeply to be allowed no more
than to be close to Rin, to remain his friend; with Haruka to decide if it would ever happen.
Only it wasn’t honourable, and it didn’t make him want her around Rin at all.
It either meant she had to take a suicidal expedition to the misery of watching someone she
loved in another’s arms, or that she still nurtured some hopes.
“We should go, Annie.”
Their eyes met before Anna turned at the sound of Jane’s timid, soft voice, and it was written
in her blue irises that the truth lied somewhere in between. The door screeched behind them,
and he recognized an already familiar jealousy boiling in the pit of his stomach.
He trusted Rin, that wasn’t the problem.
The problem was her feelings and expectations.
The music from inside of the apartment went full blast again, flooding to the street below,
turning Haruka’s impatience a hundred degrees stronger.
“Well, then,” Anna said, moving to the door, the look in her eyes screaming how
disappointed she was. But what exactly she had expected of him, Haruka had no idea. “You
can tell your mom I’ll set it up with father. Although I don’t know when I’ll be given an
audience myself. He’s out of town for a few days, and even when he’s here it’s not that
simple.”
With a last forlorn glance she went inside, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue as he followed
after her.
Rin’s face was tense before he saw Jane returning to his side; standing alone and not even
trying to fill into the crowd having fun. Red eyes rose with something like hope when a
young member of The Princesses approached. Only they got lost in shadow when the
grinning boy walked past without a single glance, joining a closely standing group.
As if Rin wasn’t even there, as if he didn’t exist.
A bottle of beer found its way to Rin’s lips, and Haruka took a step closer automatically, dirty
glass door of the terrace shutting behind him. Not sure if he was going to beat that damn boy
and the whole team, or just throw Rin over his shoulder and take him somewhere nice.
Somewhere he would feel he belonged.
Why the hell were they all acting as if the man had eaten their dinner, anyway?
Did Hagino really have that much power over them that they couldn’t see how stupid it was,
ignoring one of their own just because someone told them to? Couldn’t they see that Rin was
good enough, so good to deserve the place, even though the circumstances were a little
unusual?
Hadn’t they seen before how damn talented a swimmer he was?
“Did he tell you about the letter from Jared he got this morning?”
A tired, defeated voice came from his side, and Haruka was too confused for a moment to
mask the surprise on his face. He watched Anna observing him, waiting for the realization to
hit. Only it didn’t, and she raised her eyebrows questioningly before speaking again.
“Jared is the boy Rin hurt. His former teammate. You don’t even remember his name?”
“I do,” Haruka opposed, too hastily and too unconvincingly, knowing just as well as she did
that it was a lie as he lowered his head under her piercing stare.
I just...
Breathing in with difficulty he watched Jane’s arms curl around Rin’s neck, embracing him
firmly, and fought against Yamazaki’s predicting words returning to his mind.
They did, though, because he should have known, should have remembered just like Anna
did, for gods’ sake.
I just forgot.
It was part of Rin’s life, and you were bound to remember important things about the person
you loved.
But apart from that day in the locker room and a scarce remark in an e-mail, Rin had never
talked about the guy. Since his return he hadn’t mentioned him once, nor had he said
anything about how the boy’s case had been developing.
Not once did you ask.
“Open your eyes, Haruka,” she said, voice cheerless, and ran fingers through entangled
strands of her hair in a feeble attempt to brush them from her face. “Whether you want to see
it or not, he needs me. Back then in Sydney, I woke him up every morning at five so he could
run to the hospital to see that boy before school started. I watched him freezing up every time
his cell phone rang, making an 'it’s finally here, Jared must be dead' face. I held him after the
trainings when he was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, and it was still not
enough.”
Jane said something into Rin’s ear, and Haruka felt a strange burden fall on his shoulders
when the man ran his eyes over the crowd until they met his own face. Instantly turning fifty
degrees warmer, they spoke of the same eagerness he himself felt.
With the truth of Rin’s struggle resonating loudly in his mind, there was no way to fight the
unexpected possessiveness, flaring up like a bonfire.
She was right, he realized with a biting sting of envy—the same he felt when Rin and the
girls joked about Australia—there was so much he didn’t know. So much in Rin’s life he
wasn’t a part of, and never would be. So many things Rin had battled with, having to lean on
all these people for support while Haruka lived his mundane life alone.
It was just like the first time when Rin had taken him to Sydney—the feeling was back—
telling him he could try everything and anything, but his dull self would never be interesting
enough for this man to look his way. Important enough to keep him around until they were
old and grey.
Need me.
There were these missing pieces of the puzzle that belonged to Anna and Jane, and many
more other friends. Left on the other side of an ocean, it was something he had no right to
touch.
And Rin indeed didn’t seem to need him to talk about the struggling, or some letter—
whatever its content was. He had them, the people who had been there for him when he
needed it the most. Who knew what to say when the time was right.
Just me.
It wasn’t up to Haruka to fill their place.

The weirdest urgency took all over him while Jane stepped on her toes, obviously to place a
kiss on Rin’s face, and a gentle smile spread over it like a darkly sparkling gem.
But there was nothing but a palm on her shoulder as she moved closer, keeping her
awkwardly away, and long fingers fell down to Rin’s side afterwards. Red eyes looked at
Haruka with a plea for approval—a silent question if he did right—and genuine,
unadulterated hate resonated in Anna’s laugh next to him while Jane’s sky-blue stare turned
in their direction, confused and hurt.
It was low, and it was primitive, and it shouldn’t have made him so happy that Rin had just
pushed a dear friend away just for Haruka’s sake.
Only it had, and his poor, pitiable heart relished sickly in that.
He heard himself take a breath, and then the words were out before he realized, hoarse and
intentionally biting.
“I also remember it was you who said he’s mediocre. A second-rate swimmer.”
It was her turn to look shocked now, surprised by the unexpected comment.
“No,” she breathed out with face reddening, lips apart. “I mean... I did, but it’s what Rin said.
Used to say. I never—”
He had never been happier being himself as he moved forward, leaving Anna standing there,
searching for words she didn’t have. Though uncommunicative and unfriendly, he was also
able to say no to her, even though not explicitly. She didn’t get what she wanted, simply
because she asked for it.
He made his way through the crowd to Rin’s hungry eyes that were screaming he was waiting
for no one else in the whole world but him, and the only thing Haruka wasn’t sure was if that
was a right thing to do.
“Wanna leave?”
The night felt much warmer down on the street, without the blowing wind of the terrace, and
Rin’s crestfallen face turned upwards to the moon as they stepped out of the building to the
cobbled sidewalk. Heavy metal roared even through the windows, reflecting distantly against
the houses on the other side of the street but even more inside of Haruka’s chest.
It felt like an eternity until the four of them reached the main road and a black, perfectly
polished limo emerged from behind the corner like a fairytale dark horse. Jane did her best to
talk cheerfully, the rest of them smiled back at her when she looked their way, and he could
hardly believe Anna would be gone soon.
Then Rin, hastily humming his good-bye, shut the car door behind the surprised girls, and all
Haruka needed to know was in his hopeful face.
Yes, he might be boring, he might not be fun at parties, and he might not know what
Australian life looked or tasted like with new friends and places.
But within the warm embrace of a moonlit street he knew that wasn’t what had brought Rin
into his arms, and made him stay there.
And Rin was probably not going to speak about the guy he had hurt, or the letter, or anything
important, tonight, and he was not going to apologize for his big mouth. It wasn’t the right
moment, and Haruka would hardly be able to get any words out through his constricted
throat.
It was clear when Rin’s palm was hot and clammy in his own, vigorously clutching, and a
timid sound of their shared giggle resonated for the first time through the night, that there
were more important things to do.
Hand in hand, half-walking, half-running to the shadow between the closest houses, Haruka’s
heart beat to the wild rhythm of Rin’s own and a distant song from a window up the street.
Thump.
In the dead of night, it squeezed painfully when arms curled around his neck like necklaces
made of a human flesh. The grip was forceful, and his bones ached under the pressure, but he
didn’t move a brow as Rin’s tall body crushed down on him.
The man was heavy, he was not strong enough, and gravitation pushed their joined bodies to
the building’s wall. Sun seemed to never fully dry the wetness in a shadowy place like this,
and it seeped through the thin layers of his clothes like fingers of the few last cold nights of
the year.
It stunk of piss and vomit here, its acids burned his nostrils while he felt himself slipping on
the muddy ground under the weight, and Rin’s arms had never felt this magical before.
Haruka smiled into the night, too happy to hold it back.
Hands curled firmly into the shirt on his back, he breathed in the masculine scent of his hair,
and suddenly it was clear he had been a fool for believing her even for a second.
No, Rin didn’t need Anna.
She was someone who the man talked to, yes, because he didn’t know that Haruka would
listen just as eagerly.
She could come to their trainings a thousand times over, say whatever she wanted, but
Haruka was sure Rin would never forget that she was a person who, despite being by his side
before, had never truly believed in his abilities and talent. That she had never really trusted he
could reach for the stars.
But Haruka had, all the way through.
“There’s still two weeks. I’ll add some land training, or somethin’.” A deep voice launched a
truth into his crumpled shirt: of how much Rin was, in fact, bothered by the whole Qatar
thing; of how much he needed to talk about it. Haruka entangled his fingers into the thick,
almost violet hair and sighed warmly into it. “I won’t embarrass us there, dammit.”
He didn’t need Jane, or Yamazaki, or anybody.
I’ll…
Shutting his eyes firmly, Haruka fought radiant happiness in his chest, because Rin was
terrified and anxious and panicky, and it wasn’t right to be this happy just because it made
him a tiny bit more important in his eyes.
I’ll take care of you.
Barely opening his lips, he feared his shaky voice would betray everything as he spoke.
“Let’s start jogging together. Tomorrow morning.”
As a soft nod fell in the crook of his neck, he was determined to do his first and last to
become for Rin someone he himself had never had in his life: a rock the man could lean onto
without hesitation, someone who cared about nothing and no one else. Someone so important
that Rin would never have to look another way.
He was going to be Rin’s everything.
Nothing and no one would ever hurt this man as long as Haruka had something to say about
it, not even Rin himself.
“And you won’t smoke, anymore.”
The beautiful eyes emerged slowly from the shadow of his shoulder, kind of surprised, kind
of fearful, as if searching for traces of something on Haruka’s face. They didn’t seem to find
it there, though, whatever it was, and he smiled shakily as the man nuzzled their noses
together—a wordless demand to dive into their very own paradise.
If you want me to.
Haruka’s tongue ran softly over his lip, anticipation turning his wobbly legs into jelly, and a
shaky sigh fell back on his own. In the stillness of the night his heart went galloping, because
there wasn’t any brake to stop it from drowning completely.
He had never meant to fall so fast and so much, not after everything, not to the point where
he could hardly remember what exactly he had meant when he wrote 'free' on that brick in
the school garden all those years ago.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Haruka whispered something he should have said much
earlier today. A wave of unbearable tenderness turned his voice awkwardly sweet, but he
didn’t care about the change, while his thumb stroked a perfect line of eyebrow above the
suddenly strangely glistening eyes. “You’re amazing. So good. You deserve it all.”
From now on, it would be just them.
No oceans, no unnecessary people separating them.
Rin’s body quivered slightly in his arms as Haruka strengthened his embrace and placed
tender, lingering kisses down his shaved cheek.
Red eyes fell down, then rose up with flickering courage, and Haruka could easily tell that he
wasn’t the only one consumed by these mad feelings, whatever they were. A dog kept
barking ferociously somewhere close in a nearby backyard, the rumble of a subway echoed
above the poor quarters of the district, and Rin licked his lips as if readying them for
something.
Under the toothy, jagged shadows of rooftops, Haruka realized that that something wasn’t
anything he could possibly expect.
“I love you.”
She had been nice and smiling most of the time, as far as his memories reached. She had
never yelled, or screamed, or raised her voice whatsoever—a perfect Japanese lady through
and through—even when he had burned her favourite pan to black charcoal in an attempt to
cook mackerel, which she had refused to prepare more than once a week.
He didn’t have an exact idea why the memory of his grandmother emerged in his mind at a
time like this, but he remembered that there had never been a need for sound between the
walls of the old house to make anything better, or worse. Everything had been silent except
for a clock ticking on the wall, her soft, quiet guiding above the school books, or the rustling
as she ruffled his hair when he had been lost in his own world for too long.
It was just how things worked, Haruka thought, staring wide-eyed, and with a fallen smile
into Rin’s equally shocked face. The natural state of the world was wordless—she had never
said it, and he had never asked.
You… what?
It was a hasty whisper as it left Rin’s mouth, a delicate, shy confession breathed out against
his smiling lips with a hopeful, pained expression. As if it was a horrible, scary thing to feel,
yet something that couldn’t be helped at the same time.
As if Rin had to get it out, overpressure too much to hold it inside.
He could hardly tell which one of them had least anticipated those words to come out like
this when he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again to meet Rin’s panicked face,
wishing to know how to stop an avalanche from falling from the rooftop and burying them
underneath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Rin rushed to answer his throaty question, swallowing thickly, and his voice
didn’t sound like his own when he continued feebly, hesitantly. “Or... not?”
A stunned, unamused chuckle left Haruka’s mouth while he frowned into the mud under their
feet, and Rin’s eyelashes tickled his forehead as he blinked ferociously.
“What?” A stiff voice laughed shortly, hesitantly, and Haruka looked up, heart heavy. Rusty
spouts hanging askew on the wall screeched under an attack of wind, and it sounded as if
something fragile was breaking when Rin added, voice weak. “Is it funny to you?”
“No, I...” He sighed, unable to keep track of Rin’s impossible speed of thoughts.
It didn’t seem like a joke, yet it didn’t make any sense, at the same time. It was unforeseen,
odd, and mad that someone had just willingly given him something this precious. So easily, it
looked like it was a normal thing to open up this much; to let old ghosts out of the closet like
that. To say words that no one had said to him before, ever, and without a single warning
expect them back.
To make it look like Haruka failed somehow.
The memory of a similarly windy night in front of a mansion—the two of them standing face
to face like now, when he had made a certain promise to himself—gripped him around his
neck and squeezed tight, and he didn’t have any idea where all his courage from a moment
ago went.
His fingers curled into the fabric of Rin’s sweater and he swallowed, tongue-tied and
confused. Praying to be able to wipe away that desolating disappointment, already being born
on Rin’s face.
Of course Rin wanted to hear it back now that it was out, he wanted everything—just like he
always did, and he would never have enough, no matter how much Haruka was able to give.
No, he didn’t seem to have a fucking clue how hard it had been to survive all those times he
had disappeared before, as if it was the easiest thing to leave him behind like excess weight
of luggage at the airport. To stop replying to his e-mails, to make it look like Haruka had
made up everything in his head. How impossible it was to forgive all that fully, even though
Haruka was trying his best, day and night.
I can’t, dammit.
How fatal it would be to admit it was really true, to believe that what this volatile man
claimed to feel wasn’t just something flighty; for a week, or a month. To say out loud that the
one madly in love here was, in fact, Haruka.
Always under constant threat that the last time Rin had left could anytime, on the slightest
whim, turn into just one of many more.
The wind chased clouds hastily over the sky behind Rin’s head—a herd of grey, sad sheep—
and Haruka would bet everything he had that Anna hadn’t had any problem saying how much
she loved him.
“You’re beautiful.” Haruka choked out other words he had wanted to say for years; ever since
he had laid eyes on Rin for the first time—on a kid with annoyingly sparkling eyes, heaving
hard on the ground after their very first race.
It was sure better than 'great', 'okay', or 'thank you'—the only possible answers that swirled
around his flabbergasted brain, but it wasn’t enough.
A knowing, somewhat defeated smile formed on Rin’s perfect face as Haruka tried to press
their lips together again, but hit a cheek instead. The burning behind his eyes intensified
tenfold upon the words he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to say.
I waited whole my life for you to be with me.
“We should go. It’s getting late.”
Sad, red eyes needed something more when the light from Rin’s phone lit up his tense face,
placing a startlingly white wall between the two of them and preventing Haruka’s shaking
fingers from caressing his cold cheek. It felt like the only chance he had been given was just
slipping through his fingers as Rin took a small step back and cleared his throat before
speaking,
And there was a possibility Haruka would never be told the same again, by Rin or anyone
else. He knew it well as he swallowed hard, but there was very little he could do about it.
Don’t I deserve some time to figure it out?
But wasn’t it enough proof that he was now here, that he had chosen that stupid party
tonight? That he had talked to the man’s ex for more than a damn half an hour without them
killing each other? That he had just offered to willingly participate in extra dry-land training,
even though he would rather chop his legs off then jog first thing in the morning?
The right answer didn’t seem to be plastered right on his face, though.
“I’ll walk you home, if you don’t—” Rin’s voice jumped funnily before cutting off, and his
surprised face abruptly turned into an epitome of defeated misery. But he didn’t move his
hand away when Haruka placed it hesitantly under his own shirt.
The fabric pooled around Rin’s wrist for what seemed like an eternity, and his palm felt
strangely cold and foreign against Haruka’s stomach. At length, an exasperated sigh cut the
silence, and he was sure this was an even bigger mistake when Rin finally shook and lowered
his head down on his shoulder.
Leaning his back against the wall behind him with a terrifyingly beating heart, Haruka was
scared he was going to have a heart attack at a moment like this. But he pulled Rin's body
closer in a silent invitation, anyway.
“Nanase,” Rin whispered against the place under his jaw, reluctantly pressing close again,
and Haruka fought a sting of unease upon the return of his family name. “I’d kill.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, his lips fell apart when strong, muscled hips pushed his own into the
brick wall, and Rin’s words echoed within the bones of his skull.
“To see into your head for one damn minute.”
He was hard the second Rin moved his palm from his bare stomach up his chest to curl long
fingers around his neck and rocked against him for the first time, and he was not the only
one. Everything pulsed with mad urgency to touch and to be touched, and it was equally bad
on both sides when Rin’s other hand anchored on and then bruised his hip bone—jeans, or no
jeans; belt, or no belt.
And they were everywhere then, that mouth on his neck and under his ear; those hands on the
small of his back and under his ass; once again not asking anything. Nails dug desperately
into the flesh of his ribs, and there was nothing funny about it this time.
It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t romantic.
It was just like their first kiss—a ruined memory born in the heat of punishment that Rin felt
they both either needed, or deserved.
Hot mouth worked roughly on destroying the skin of his neck, so much and so painfully that
he mewled and pulled feebly on Rin’s hair to bring him back to his lips, even though it didn’t
matter anymore. The marks would be there tomorrow, and that seemed to be the goal,
anyway.
There was no way to figure how far Rin was going to take this, but when his palm pushed
between their bodies and roughly rubbed until Haruka swallowed a broken cry, he knew he
wasn’t able to stop its unalterable course.
And while just earlier today this was exactly what he had wanted, he wasn’t that sure
anymore.
I...
It wasn’t okay, it wasn’t alright, because who would want to reach climax for the first time
with their most beloved like this? Pressed against a filthy wall in a decrepit district, hastily
and brutally, not even naked properly; like two underbreds chasing their carnal needs.
Spilling in his pants like Haruka would without question, very soon, because his body found
liking in the strangely painful suffering despite everything.
But it was new and raw, and it was Rin, after all, and nothing else mattered but him being
needed this much.
I don’t...
Rin’s breathing was raspy and needy against his open mouth as he rocked against Haruka’s
hips again and again, both hanging onto each other as if the crazily spinning world around
could throw them off the planet’s surface if they let go. The ruthless hand tortured him, but he
didn’t need much more; not with the pent-up tension of the last few days; just a little, little
more.
A few more painful rubs, and maybe then everything would be finally fucking fine.
“Am I?” A breaking voice spoke hurriedly, breathless. “Am I beautiful now?”
No, Haruka thought frantically as he burrowed a loud cry into the man’s wildly moving
shoulder, he was not.
But I love you, anyway.
“Rin, ahah.”
It wasn’t perfect like Rin had promised him it would be, and Haruka finally gave up hope he
would be forgiven for the lack of answer. But there was nothing he would deny this man, and
Rin wasn’t taking anything he wouldn’t have offered, anyway.
“Fuck, Nanase,” a higher pitched voice sobbed against his mouth.
There were approximately one hundred and twenty seven million people in Japan, including
the two of them, they had said on TV just yesterday.
And none of them ought to be blamed for the flicker of hate in Haruka’s chest when the
agonizing pleasure was gone a second before the finish line, and Rin’s hand pushed him away
before hitting the wall next to his head with a crack of the wall’s crumbly coating.
“Fuck this fucking shit.”
***
It seemed impossible to calm down.
He had given up on sleep at five, barely three hours after he had lain down next to Nagisa’s
softly breathing figure, and he didn’t feel sleepy at all—just as when he had closed his eyes
in a vain attempt to doze off.
A song hummed softly through the kitchen, lack of sleep made him feel like there wasn’t
anything to separate today from yesterday, and his mother wouldn’t stop commenting on
some French nonsensical blabbering on Al-Jazeera TV news. Chopped onion stung his eyes
badly—a beginner’s mistake to wipe them only made it all worse—and Haruka knew that
turning up the radio’s volume hadn’t been the smartest thing to do.
The song was miles away from the hollering of hard rock—or whatever had blared at that
party last night. It was slow, sweet, and so very sappy. With an endlessly horrifying feeling,
Haruka realized he was not only listening to the love song willingly, most certainly for the
first time ever.
He also stealthily died at each line of lyrics that hit the bull’s eye perfectly.
Wiping his stinging eyes once again into his sleeve, he sighed, irritated to the bone.
If two days of Rin’s constant presence had made this of him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to
know what was to come yet.
Dragging his feet through the condo, Haruka tried everything to keep his mind from doing
what it did best: over-analyzing. He had done the dishes instead of absent Makoto and Nagisa
—like really, was no one at all doing chores in this condo but him? He wiped the fingerprints
drawn in a two inch tall cover of dust on the furniture, went down to the basement to fill the
washing machine with the two-week-high pile of dirty clothes.
It was supposed to be just a regular, lazy Saturday; a normal, peaceful beginning of a

weekend.
Except it wasn’t, and no matter how much he tried to act otherwise, it was bound to fail.
Matsuoka Rin said he loves you.
As if his brain wasn’t enough of a bother, his body reminded him of yesterday all the damned
time, too—anytime the memory of Rin pushing rock-hard against his hip returned against his
will. Closing the washing machine doors a mere two hours ago, he had gotten a boner for the
third time that morning, and had the occurrence of neighbours in the vicinity been just a little
less frequent, he would have probably addressed the problem right then and there.
“I’ve always known it.” His mother’s bored voice carried from the common room, and he
sighed tiredly, feeling blood travel downside again. “I’ve always said it was going to end like
this. It was only a matter of time before the Sunni seized control of both Iraq and Syria.
Honestly, what is everybody surprised about now?”
The sun drew circles on the kitchen cupboards while Haruka threw onion pieces into the pot
on the stove, and he knew, with the certainty of his life-long experiences with Rin, that he
didn’t have the slightest idea what was happening in that head of his at the moment.
Who knew where he even was now? Probably sulking somewhere—like Haruka kind of
expected, kind of dreaded, but, in fact, didn’t hold against him. It seemed like Rin
disappearing from the Earth’s surface was something he would have to deal with from time to
time, if he intended to mess everything up like he seemed to always do.
He could, at least, answer one damned text-message, couldn’t he?
It was so weird, so unbelievable, and he didn’t really get it.
Damn.
He had waited all his life for this to happen, for that cocky idiot to feel something for him,
and there used to be times he thought it would never happen. Now he had it, there was no
denying, otherwise they wouldn’t be where they were now.
Only Rin himself giving it the name of 'love'—it appeared surreal—like a life-changing
lottery win that you suddenly didn’t know what to do with.
Because, damn, good things like that didn’t happen to someone like Haruka. They happened
to people like Makoto and Jane—people who were worth and strong enough, who knew what
it looked like when someone loved you; who actually experienced it, not just stared at it from
a bus’s window running by.
People unlike him, who had other people to hold them if, despite their best effort, their first
romance didn’t work out in the end.
“Mark my words, Haruka, that Islamic state will cause more problems than we can possibly
imagine at the moment.”
Humming noncommittally, he let his eyes travel over his mother’s calm profile.
Wouldn’t it be fucking amazing to be able to go over there now, turn the TV off? To wait
until she looked at him with surprise and then just yell right into her face that someone
fucking loved him? That someone said it and meant it, and it was a damn, undeniable truth.
Without doubt, confidently, a hundred percent sure.
He felt like screaming, shouting it into her blank eyes until she broke into pieces like she
managed to do to him before.
Look, mother, I’m fucking worth something; just that much.
But she sat there, unmoving except for sipping a cup of tea that Haruka had made for her
earlier, and it didn’t matter all that much. She wouldn’t understand; it was already past time
to make lunch, and he hadn’t gotten a single text-message this morning yet.
No 'good morning', no 'see you soon'.
But he said he loves you.
Fish suffered under the furious attack of a knife in Haruka’s hand, until there was nothing but
small, inedible chunks in front of his eyes. With an irritated sigh he reached for another piece,
treating it the same way.
Why did people need to articulate everything, every single feeling they had inside? Why
can’t they just wait, or something? Like a poorly screwed cork of a bottle that you shook ever
so slightly, all those things kept exploding from their mouths when you expected them the
least.
“Especially if it’s under Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi’ leadership, it can’t mean anything good. And
could you be a little less loud, Haruka? I can’t hear anything.”
As if words meant something.
As if last night somehow lessened what was inside of him, as if he hadn’t stood by Rin’s side
all the time, as if the man was the only one here feeling something.
“Haruka, please. I asked you something. You really are too noisy.”
There were few things more irritating than her voice mingling with the simmering of onion in
the oil, and despite the lack of her presence for a few days, Haruka had just about had enough
of hearing it for one month. Shutting off the gas, he threw the pot into the sink, not even
trying to keep quiet, and turned for Makoto’s room.
He had almost no clean, dry clothes—most of them hanging freshly washed in the basement
—so throwing on whatever fell under his hand was the only way. He didn’t care, anyway;
there was only one thing he wanted on at that very moment.
“I’m leaving,” Haruka yelled from the genkan, pushing his head through the neckline of
Rin’s hoodie, and grabbed for keys on the hanger. “Make yourself something.”
“Hey.” Makoto’s surprised voice mixed with an amazed 'what' from the common room, but
he couldn’t care less about both as he sidestepped the man in the door. “You’re in a hurry?”
He nodded, not giving him one look, and ran down. There was still a chance Rin had decided
to come just as Haruka had proposed, despite lack of answer, and Haruka couldn’t risk the
opposite.
“Oi, Haru. I met a postman downstairs, he left a package for you with me.” Makoto’s voice
seemed calm, knowing well that Haruka wouldn’t have returned back up even for more
pressing issues. But he added after him, anyway. “It’s from Gou.”
The natatorium was going to open at noon, and their training wasn’t going to start until three.
He had thought—when he had pushed the 'send' button of his phone around ten a.m.—that
the two of them could have enough time to train together, since it didn’t seem like the jogging
idea fell on fertile soil.
They most definitely should; two weeks wasn't that much time as Rin had put it yesterday,
definitely not with tapering later on schedule. It would take much, much more to get to the
level the man needed to be if he wanted to win in Qatar, and Haruka was determined to give
his everything to get him there.
It wasn’t the Olympics, not yet.
But Rin was going to stand on the winners’ podium, just like he had always wanted and
dreamt about, and it didn’t matter if they both were going to sweat blood and spit brain tissue.
Only the place looked deserted when he got there fifteen minutes later than the proposed
time, with nothing but the quiet humming of filters filling the silence of the locker rooms.
Haruka fought annoyance as he threw his bag on the bench, and pulling out jammers, he
glanced in the direction of showers.
It didn’t seem like anyone had used them today—all dry and clean—so Rin wasn’t even in
the pool already.
What the hell is he doing?
And yes, it seemed like the smartest thing to do would be to dig for his phone and just make a
call. Not that he hadn’t thought about it—with his finger on Rin’s name on the display more
times than he could count—but it was no use. Not only had he already sent that text-message,
but the memory of the last time he reached out for the man in this state made him always
stop, preventing him from making the same mistake again.
He didn’t really mind Rin lashing out at him, in general.
But if he had learned anything the day of the football match, it was to leave Rin be until his
head cooled down on its own.
Water felt hot on his skin, bringing all senses alive again, and with a slight wave of guilt it
crossed his mind that he could use the empty showers for a different purpose than showering.
There was no reason to lie; with the current state of things all he needed was two minutes
tops; no matter how lame it was.
Although not too keen on letting the water see him like that, Haruka decided it was worth it,
if it could get his brain into a functioning mode again. It was easy to let the picture of his own
hands and mouth on the perfectly fitting legskins on the inner side of Rin’s thighs materialize
in front of his eyes.
It sounded a whole lot like a hallucination when amused laughter reached his ears just as he
reached for the shampoo, followed by the soft hissing of another shower.
“Taking your time?” someone asked, teasing him amicably, and Haruka was sure he must
have had a heart attack while his eyes tried to focus through the wall of falling water droplets.
“S’alright, man. Just wait for me to get out.”
Muscles on Hagino’s wide bare back strained as he reached for a bar of soap, and Haruka
snapped his eyes away. Not that he hadn’t seen men’s naked asses in this place like a
thousand times before, or that he felt an inch of attraction to this particular one, but he sure
like hell didn’t need any added stimulus now.
“Actually.” The tall man spoke to the wall with water falling on his head, washing his
armpits. “It’s good we ran into each other here before training. I wanted to talk to you.”
Hagino’s voice was surprisingly friendly, just the way it used to be before Haruka had asked
him to play that role in the natatorium for Rin, and everything had gone mad afterwards.
It was weird, it was suspicious, and the words that followed were most certainly even more
odd.
“You know, Nanase, you really have my respect.”

Haruka’s face slowly turned to the man in silent wonder, seeing Hagino glancing at him
shortly, squinting through the water.
“Hats off to you for your self-control. Like, I know you’re childhood friends, so you’re
keeping it down, but still. I wouldn’t be able to keep cool like you do. And he’s always
around you. That must really suck.”
“What?” Haruka asked, pushing hair out of his eyes, not sure he wanted to understand. All he
got was a shrug, though, and the man returned to showering without further word.
Wet feet tapped on the tiles as Haruka turned off the water and walked to the lockers, eager to
pull at least a shirt on. In the presence of some people, jammers didn’t make you feel clothed
enough.
Maybe he should give Rin that call, after all. Maybe he was waiting for it.
There was no way it still bubbled up in the man to the point of exploding like when they
finally had said goodbye at the subway platform last night. Haruka saw how hard he was
trying to stay calm, but Rin couldn’t fool him anymore. Not even with a quick, loving stroke
of a thumb over Haruka's cheek.
The only thing Haruka hadn’t been sure about was who of the two off them Rin was exactly
angry at.
“You wanna know what I’d do in your place?” Hagino walked out of the showers, jumping in
the running track of Haruka’s thoughts. Towel around his shoulders, and raking his hair to get
the dripping water out, he looked uncomfortable and disgusted as he pointed to the neon
lamps on the ceiling. “If one of my buddies turned out to be homo and dared hit on me like
that, I’d rip off his balls and hang them right here, so he’d see them every—fucking—day of
his freakish life.”
A cemetery-like silence stretched while the man’s finger fell down to his side, and Haruka’s
brain ran full force into a wall.
What?
The man stared at him with his cat-like eyes, waiting for some form of answer, and the
disgust in them slowly but steadily changed into hesitation.
“What?” Haruka asked hoarsely, watching with horror how Hagino crunched his face and
hissed through his teeth in hardly believable surprise.
No.
“You didn’t know? That the whole team knows Matsuoka’s a god-damned faggot? Man, I’m
sorry, I thought it was obvious. There, one of our boys saw you then. You know, after you
two swam together for the first time. Here in the locker room. He told us that Matsuoka tried
to eat your face, and you only managed to push him away. Hands down to you, man, you’re a
class act. I’d smash his sick mug right then and there.”
The room around shrunk while Hagino scratched apologetically behind his ear, its walls
getting closer until they almost touched. Maybe it was one of them falling on his head what
made Haruka’s brain finally kick into action.
Why? And how?
He couldn’t remember anyone coming into the room while he had consoled Rin that day. Did
they forget Rin had had a girlfriend before?
“Sorry I was so harsh on you afterwards. With money and stuff. I couldn’t believe I had
helped a queer get on my team, so I went a bit mental and took it out on you. Knowing he’s a
freak, I’d never have helped him, but you sure wouldn’t have, either, so it’s okay. Anyway.”
Haruka watched him walk to the lockers with determination and reach for his pants on the
bench. When he raised his hand and pulled on Haruka’s wrist several seconds later, on the
verge of passing out he expected to be killed right then and there.
It was here, it was his last second.
But there was nothing but a hard slap on his palm, so strong it almost threw his arm off his
shoulder.
“There,” Hagino said, longing eyes snapping from the money in Haruka’s hand back to his
face. “I’ve wanted to give it back for weeks. But I sort of always run low on cash, so I
thought it’d wait a while. Sorry man, again, I shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”
“That’s fine,” he heard himself say, and that feeble, weak voice didn’t sound like his own. “It
was a deal.”
Why are you not defending him?
“No, it’s not. Guys like us, I mean normal and not sick in the head, should stick together.
Plus, no one here can swim like you and me. You’re good, and it sure will be a blast to beat
you in Doha.”
Why are you not saying he’s not...?
Why are you not saying that you are?
“Hey, Nanase, don’t sweat it.” Hagino headed for the pool, at length, obviously intending to
leave the locker room where just yesterday Haruka’s forehead leaned against Rin’s,
convincing them both that everything was alright. “We all get that you can’t do anything
against him, that it’d be weird, knowing him all your life. So... me and my boys will take care
of it.”
With a wink he smiled, kind of sneaky, kind of horrible, and Haruka swayed on his legs with
queasiness.
“For the team.”

One click of the door handle, one rejected idea to smash the man’s head with the locker
room’s fire extinguisher, and it was too late to do anything.
”Don’t,” Haruka yelled at the door with the man behind, and it must have been the loudest
sound he had made since he had argued with Rin ages ago in Iwatobi.
If asked, he wouldn’t know his own name when Hagino’s palm pushed the door open again,
eyebrows raised in a silent question, lips quirked slightly.
He wouldn’t know what to do, or what to think.
But for a moment, until the following words fell out of his own mouth, he genuinely hoped
he was not such a damn coward.
“I’ll deal with it on my own.”
***
Rin didn’t show up at training—their extra, or the regular one.
It was the longest hundred laps of Haruka’s life, with the other edge of the pool always too
far to reach. He had no idea if he was first, tenth, or last, and frankly, he didn’t give a damn
about it. Just glad he had managed to find the pool somewhere within the natatorium after an
hour of incredulously staring at the locker room wall, he knew it was futile to even try
coordinating breathing and moving through the water.
He’d never noticed before how the other swimmers tended to gather in groups before Hirai’s
whistle ordered them in the pool, either for small talk, or something else. He couldn’t take his
eyes off them, sickly suspicious and for the first time dying to know what they were talking
about. Analyzing every gesture, every tone of their laugh, he soon felt like a complete idiot.
Were they talking about them, were they not? Was that joke they had been laughing at on
them?
Did they really want to go after Rin?
Haruka had never been scared of anybody knowing the truth about him—on the team, or
anywhere else. He was confident it was nobody’s problem but his, even though he wouldn’t
call it a 'problem', per se.
But seeing all these men together like this, all muscled up and united under one team’s name,
there was some kind of power in it; strength of many hands, which could too easily turn
destructive. A danger born of something they seemed to have in common: hate for Rin and
the like.
With guilt and annoyance mixed together, he realized that for the first time in his life he
wasn’t as fine with anyone knowing as he had always thought.
Hagino didn’t look his way once, nor did the rest of the team, but nothing helped to ease the
pressure. It was growing inside of his head, and he could hardly stop it.
What if.
What if it was too late?
At the thirteenth turn it was just a thought, at the twenty-seventh it turned into a black cloud
above his head. At the fifty-third he could barely move his arms as he struggled to push his
body through the pool.
What if they had 'taken care' of it already?
What if that was why Rin wasn’t at training?
At eighty and something he gave up, climbing out of the pool, and ran to the locker room
with the first lame excuse his brain could come up with.
Water dripped from his fingers, smearing the display as he cursed, pushing on Rin’s name
again and again until the stupid thing finally registered his touch and started dialling. Only
this time it was his sweat, not the pool water like when he had reached the locker room an
hour ago.
It must have been his fifth try to reach the idiot over the phone since then, and a strong
reminiscence of exactly the same scene from weeks ago made him sick with worry and
exasperation.
Because they seemed to be there again, at the exact same spot they had been the day Rin left
Tokyo last time, and once again it was supposed to be Haruka’s fault. It looked like it didn’t
really matter if he opened his mouth or kept it shut, it was always the wrong choice when it
came to Rin.
“Thanks, and I’m sorry for spreading panic,” Yamazaki said into his phone, voice gravel,
staring into Haruka’s wide eyes. “Yes, I’ll tell him. Bye.”
He must have looked like a lost puppy, he knew, hanging on the man’s every word while he
let his phone fall down into his lap.
“He’s working an afternoon shift at Mos Burger today. Jane said he got the job just yesterday.
That’s probably why he’s not picking up.”
Yesterday.
We spent last night together, dammit.
Haruka let his head fall down between his knees for a moment, eyes firmly shut. It didn’t
matter what people walking by thought, and Yamazaki had seen him in much more
embarrassing situations already. The overwhelming relief, fury, and Rin’s smell rising from
the hoodie hugging his body was simply too much to stand.
Damn idiot.
It wasn’t just the simple fact that Rin had kept him in the dark about a supposedly new job.
Or that he was slacking off, instead of putting more time and energy into the training he
apparently needed like salt. It was the damn fucking fact that he had already told him to never
do such a hellish thing to him again.
He’s never going to stop scaring me.
Haruka didn’t know if Rin had any idea how difficult this was, or if he just didn’t give a
damn.
“Thank you,” he managed to push out to Yamazaki’s silently sitting frame, once he relatively
put himself together.
He would feel stupid, wanting him to ask Jane if she knew about Rin not texting him, and he
didn’t trust his own voice to take over the phone. Maybe Rin just hadn’t had time to text
back; maybe he had sent a message, but something had gone wrong.
Whatever.
Just breathe.
“I still don’t get how you could let them see you like that? Are you two totally stupid, or
what?” Yamazaki exhaled incredulously, reminding Haruka of another mistake he had done.
His voice wasn’t as calm as it usually was when he continued. “You have to be extra, extra
careful in that kind of environment. Most straight guys wouldn’t willingly share showers
with... with people like us.”
People like us.
He hadn’t exactly planned on spilling the truth first thing after meeting Yamazaki at a bench
under the Shinjuku park tower. He had wanted him only to get Anna, or Jane, or whoever on
the phone. And it didn’t really make any sense, because why hadn’t he simply called Makoto
in the first place?
Odd as it had been, words had kept falling out before he could stop them, drawing something
between shock and indignation on Yamazaki’s tranquil face. It was hard to tell what had
surprised the man more, either Haruka talking so much or the fact his best friend was
probably going to get beaten up for being gay.
As if we had leprosy.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” Haruka commented after empty minutes of staring at dogs
walking around the small park with their masters, deliberately ignoring what sounded like
preaching to his ears. His eyes fell down on the grey business suit Yamazaki had on, and he
felt a little bit calmer as he spoke. “Aren’t you going to have problems leaving all of a
sudden?”
The man shrugged, staring at entangled fingers in his lap before raising his eyes to Haruka’s.
It seemed like he didn’t want to leave the former topic as he leaned fully against the bench’s
backseat and spoke again, even though Haruka didn’t know what there was to add.
“So what exactly are you planning on doing now?”
What exactly, hah; that was a very good question, Haruka pondered, snickering a little.
Listening to the distant, soft hissing of cars from a nearby road, he was glad he had at least
managed to lead an actual conversation.
His brain had short-circuited the moment Hagino said those words, and it still hadn’t started
working yet.
A heavy sigh fell out of Yamazaki’s mouth, probably realizing there wasn’t actually an
answer to be given, and then his finger pointed at Shinjuku tower; approximately to its
middle. Falling down right after, his hand reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a badge
and let it fall into Haruka’s open palms.
Staring at the name of the enterprise he felt his own eyebrows rise.
Judging by his working position, he was no more than a regular worker, but having the same
name as the company itself must have been difficult.
“You know it could be a trap, don’t you? We can’t actually reject the possibility they know
about both of you and want to use your fear to get Rin out of the game. A clean, no blood
spilling solution.”
Haruka sighed, wiping his sweaty face. This was way too complicated, too much and too fast
at the same time, and he wasn’t built for difficult chess games—either on table or between
people.
This was where Yamazaki was at home, and Haruka could already see wheels turning in the
man’s head. And it was obvious like nothing else that he was fighting to ask that question.
Why didn’t Haruka just leave his place to Rin, making another one free, so Hagino could
simply take over.
And he was glad the man didn’t, in the end, because he was so not going to defend himself.
Not in this case, period. He hadn’t told Yamazaki everything, and quite intentionally. There
was no chance Haruka was going to let through his mouth that Rin was going to Qatar only
thanks to him.
Hell, he would do anything to get Rin to fulfill his dream, and if there was a single possibility
the man could go there alone, Haruka would gladly step down.
It still wouldn’t make The Princesses forget that Rin—or both of them—preferred something
other than pretty girls, though.
Which quite awesomely sucked.
“I have to think about it more. You’ve bought us some time, but we need to act fast. Let’s
wait and see what Rin says,” Yamazaki breathed out, finally giving up on unsolvable things
for the time being. “So what happened again? Did you two manage to have a fight already?”
“Not exactly.”
Grass swayed slowly on the other side of the gravel pathway, and turning his teal eyes to him
the man didn’t seem too keen on saying the following words—as if he wanted, and didn’t
want to ask something at the same time.
“Does 'Not exactly' usually lead to you falling down the stairs?”
Haruka blinked confusedly, and it was Yamazaki’s finger pointing at his bruised neck that
rang the bell, while a somewhat fallen smile spread over his face.
It was supposed to be just another joke, only it didn’t quite work out this time.
Running his fingertips over the aching skin, Haruka knew it hadn’t looked too good in the
morning and by now it had probably turned into beautifully violet and blueish contusions.
He shrugged, searching for a public-appropriate explanation.
“We were... and he—”
“Na-ah,” Yamazaki interrupted hastily and closed his eyes for a moment before raising his
somewhat pensive face to the quickly darkening sky. “I don’t think I want to hear details,
dolphin.”
Then why did you ask?
But Haruka was very fine with that, as he turned his eyes away, since he wasn’t going to give
any.
There was no denying that Rin could be really rough when he wanted, and Haruka certainly
wasn’t looking for excuses. Yes, it had been done in the heat of the moment—just like before
when he had been bitten during their first kiss—and even this time Rin hadn’t done it
intentionally. Probably, that is.
Only, once again, Haruka wore marks of punishment he wasn’t certain he deserved, even
though the man seemed to have quite a different opinion when he used his fangs on him.
And Rin might have apologized in a shaky voice afterwards, asking anxiously if Haruka was
alright when the momentum was mostly gone and pulsing pain and cold was all that was left
of their shared heat, but he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t a bit too late for it.
Did I really laugh?
Either way, Haruka sure like hell wasn’t going to weep over any of it in front of the man’s
best friend.
A long moment passed in a suddenly stiff silence, and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to
speak while Yamazaki was lost in his thoughts, lips pursed in a thin line. White knuckles
clutched his phone as if there was something happening inside of him, although his
unreadable face stayed serene just as it always was.
His 'I should get back' was quiet then, mumbled in the direction of the lit up windows of
Shinjuku tower; as if it called him back by a means Haruka could neither hear, nor see.
Without thinking he stood up too, automatically following.
There was a quiet, heavy sigh falling from the man’s mouth as he noticed him walking by his
side, but he didn’t comment and Haruka was glad. It was almost seven o’clock, and street
lighting was slowly coming to life as they walked through the small park in silence; both
quiet, and probably equally wondering why Haruka wasn’t heading home already.
But he knew that the moment he turned for home he would start staring at that idiotic display,
hoping for something to happen, and he honestly didn’t feel like waiting one more damned
minute of this day for Rin to finally call.
To either apologize, or hear Haruka’s own apology.
“I’ve never envied him this much before.” Blinking in surprise, he watched a torn smile
spread over Yamazaki’s face. “It must be nice to have someone who worries so much about
you.”
And as teal eyes turned to him, he almost wanted to say there surely would be, one day, even
for him; if for nothing else than to get that penetrating gaze off of himself.
It would probably be a lie, though; it was impossible to imagine that someone would
eventually love another person as much as he loved Rin.
Even though he couldn’t—wasn’t ready yet—to say it.
It was becoming clearer with every awkward step they took towards the park’s entrance that
Haruka shouldn’t have come here tonight. He shouldn’t have turned to this man for help,
shouldn’t have walked him back to work again. Shouldn’t have done many more things he
had, but it seemed to be too late to regret.
Confused, Haruka looked for something neutral to say, searching for words on the gravel path
under their feet. He wasn’t sure if he had totally misjudged the situation last time they talked,
or if that twenty minutes on the bench could have changed that much.
Whatever the cause, there seem to be exactly that awkwardness between them that Yamazaki
had wanted to avoid.
“I think I should go—” he started, watching the man halt afar and turn around. And he wasn’t
precisely sure if he said the last word, or if it just resonated faintly within the walls of his
skull. “Home.”
Because when Yamazaki drew in a long breath and, with hands in the pockets of his suit,
looked like he was bracing up for something to say, a small hand fell on his shoulder; in the
very same moment Haruka felt the weight of a carrier ship on his own.
Eyes snapping to the unknown cumbersome man on his right, Haruka’s body went full tense
in an instant.
It didn’t seem to be the case for Yamazaki, though, when a big arm grabbed Haruka’s arm,
pulling him painfully, yet effectively towards his chest.
“Oi, oi, oi, young Nanase, tell your friend to keep his temper down.”
The small Taiwanese man’s face was smiling friendly, as if it wasn’t at the top of Haruka’s 'to
never see again' list.
“What the hell is this? Who are you?” Yamazaki spat over his head, strength of his big hands
crushing Haruka’s bones while he tried to free himself, and why, for fuck’s sake, did the man
think he needed to be held like a little boy?
One strong push, one surprised yelp, and he got on his own feet again. It took a lot of self-
control to not punch Yamazaki right away for making a weakling of him in front of all these
men.
Three stupid mouths laughed around them loudly.
“Don’t mind my boys, kids.” Chang widened his eyes amusedly on them, and Haruka was
sure there was a very unintentional trace of interest in the way the man’s eyes ran over
Yamazaki’s face, observing. “They’re not here to harm you. On the contrary, they shall make
sure you don’t ruin my tuxedo, since I’m currently on my way to The Nutcracker premiere.
Which brings me to the fact that I appear to be already late, therefore I can’t wait for you to
finally make up your mind and let your friend go his way.”
“What do you want?” Haruka growled, ignoring Yamazaki’s shocked gaze that anchored on
his face, and rather turned to the small man fully.
The strong aura of authority was still there, floating around him, just as when they had met
last time in the back of Old Ita’s shop. Only now Chang didn’t seem to come to threaten as he
ran fingers through his perfectly smoothed hair, smile amicable and genuine.
As if he was, indeed, only making a quick working stop on his way to the theatre; something
that his 'job' needed him to do more often than not.
His men hadn’t made a move since they came; just stood around with dull faces once the joke
wasn’t so funny anymore. And it made sense that if they wanted to cause actual harm to him,
they would surely wait until he was alone.
Haruka’s eyes fell to the small man’s jacket, pondering that the knife was surely there, even
now. These kinds of people didn’t put their working tools away.
Yamazaki opened his mouth to say something, but the smile widened on Chang’s face, and
there seemed to be no way anyone would speak when he intended to do so.
“The question is rather what we both want, young Nanase.” A chuckle, a shrug, and Haruka
felt his jaw constrict as Chang stepped closer, slapping his cheek in a demeaning manner.
“According to the latest information your daddy is still in town, and currently on his way to
you, so I dare predict that in the near future, you and I will be spending some terrific time
together.”
Chapter 14
Chapter Notes
Hey there guys!
Okay, so... the unbelievable happened, and I’m back :))
Let’s start with a huge thank you to ALL of you. For your patience, for all love and
support that you gave me through your words in the past months, for the motivation I
wasn’t able to find on my own. I read your comments like fifty times over, and I’m sorry
that I wasn’t able to respond to all of them. You should know, though, that even those I
didn’t respond to were deeply appreciated and I hold them just as close to my heart.
The biggest thank you goes to marbled_maven, my precious beta and - I dare to say now
- friend, for all above and much, much more.
Now... I hope I can safely say that the dark days are over, and I’ve found passion for this
story all over again. I spend all of my free time working on it, and now it’s up to you to
say if it was worth the wait.
Enjoy the new chapter, guys :)) It came right from my heart, and even though it was
shockingly easy to write once I started, I put a strikingly big amount of time into getting
it into the shape I considered good enough.
I just hope you’ll like it the way I do ;))
It looks in movies like it happens in an instant; one fatal hand touch, two pairs of eyes meet
across a room full of people, that much is enough. One big historic moment that turns life
into a ride of fluttering hearts and kisses.
For him it hadn’t. Like a virus of a cold he had had for days that inevitably put him to bed
with fever and aching everything, he wasn’t aware he had caught it until he could barely
walk, least to say run from it.
And he wasn’t particularly happy it happened to him, if he was to be honest. Because—if he

ultimately had to fall for someone—he would rather it was for someone easy to deal with,
nice and calm. Someone like Gou, or Makoto, or three quarters of the people in his high
school. Maybe even Yamazaki, if it came down to that.
Someone regular, even just plain ordinary.
The only one to blame for the years he spent being stuck on someone as extraordinary as Rin
was Haruka himself. Hanging onto every stolen Matsuoka’s word, delicate lines of his
hipbones grazing the water’s surface—all of it pushing air out of his lungs to the point where
neither water nor aftermaths of his half-assed, pitiable orgasms could soothe the need.
Rin was the best one of all. Someone you would leave anyone else for in a blink of an eye, a
flashlight over the grey crowds that could render you blind no matter if you were a girl, or a
boy, or a Mesozoic dinosaur. Haruka knew as he toed his sneakers off and trudged into the
common room like a gauzy ghost, it wouldn’t make a difference if Rin arrived into his life at
eight, eighteen, or eighty-four.
He would still just sit patiently, waiting for another act of this fairytale, no matter when its
main character would never pick up his phone, or show-up again.
No matter how many times anyone got called a faggot in it.
Even now that he stood in the doorframe like a fool, it was still true. Maybe, just maybe, if he
had known what he was going to find sitting among his friends as if he agreed to any of it, he
wouldn’t have walked in so recklessly.
Because he hated surprises, fucking hated everything that left him thrown off guard like only
Rin’s foolishness could.
Especially something that supposedly was a romantic gesture—showing up past ten in the
middle of your common room.
"I won," Nagisa yelled excitedly, making Haruka wince so much he almost fell off his feet,
and the already buzzing detonator in his head went off. "Oi, Rin-chan, you’re sooo easy to
beat when Haru-chan’s around. Let’s start another round right now."
'God-damn faggot.'
Something exploded inside like dynamite down in the mines, and it ran up every corridor of
his heart and veins, until it reach his brain.
"You had a good day, Haru?" Makoto’s gentle voice hit the bull’s eye perfectly without
noticing, but it was as good a try as any to overcome the darkness that dragged in behind
Haruka like a shadow.
He needed to break someone’s nose.
It had to be done right here and right now—the need was too probing to ignore, to stand here
with the fragile smile on Rin’s face that was already falling down like cherry blossoms.
It was too late, though, there was no one to beat the crap out of. An innocent wouldn’t do.
'Sick.'
The good mood in the condo wavered like a dull echo with anxious eyes on him, and he
began to doubt if he didn’t have some mental problem, just like Yamazaki had joked about
once.
Because why, for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have gotten the right reaction out of his mouth, or
fists at the time of need? Why, like always, were they ready rather three hours later, when no
one’s teeth were interested in them anymore?
If only he had Hagino here now.
How he would throw him against the wall and ask that asshole if he was really certain he had
a problem—like two hundred percent sure, so much he would repeat everything he said on
that god-damned faggot’s account.
In the corner of Haruka’s eye Makoto and Rei shifted uncomfortably. Neither of them
enjoyed the tension, not even Haruka himself, not now that he was finally home after such a
shitty day.
White ceiling light slowly diminished like a theatre headlight that turned elsewhere when
Rin’s already weak smile finally disappeared for good, and it was all Haruka’s fault.
"Long," he growled the answer Makoto’s way, and couldn’t care less.
There was something uncontrollable running up the wire that pulled Rin to his feet when
Haruka finally turned for the door.
A deep voice offered something unintelligible, and his eyes snapped closed before he could
ponder on what so horrible Rin did to earn this treatment. Or before Haruka cracked and
either hit him over his mouth, or kissed it first.
Somewhere there resonated Nagisa’s annoyed objections about Rin abandoning the game, a
strangely irritating voice even from behind the wall of Makoto’s room as Haruka tore the
closet open and almost ripped the handle off.
It was really just about time Nagisa returned to where he belonged.
Haruka gritted his teeth and the T-shirt fell out of his hand when the creak of the floor
preceded Rin’s weak 'hey'. Wordlessly standing afar, face jaded, he seemed reluctant to get
closer when Haruka finally spared him one short look from under his overgrown fringe.
Long silence wasn’t what he expected, even though he himself didn’t even try to open his
mouth. He never was the one to start the conversation, and now, with doe-eyed gaze on him,
he sure wouldn’t know how to start.
But when still nothing came while Haruka tore open one button of a stinky school-shirt after
another, with the certainty of the darkness outside the window, he knew the entrance door
would shut with a click of a locker behind Rin’s back; and very soon.
"You want me to go?" The question proved it just beautifully while stale air blew out of the
old closet and senseless anger so far bubbling inside turned briskly into panic.
Because nothing could make the icy voices, which had accompanied Haruka on his way
home since he finally got rid of Yamazaki’s irritating presence, go haunt someone else,
somewhere else. Yet just being this close, in the same room—even though both silent—did
something unexpected to Haruka’s heart.
It made its pace decelerate rather than the usual opposite.
"Alright," Rin said, so wearily it sounded as if he barely managed to open his mouth to speak,
and Haruka was glad his face couldn’t be seen properly.
It would maybe be the last word he ever heard from Rin’s mouth, who knew, and it didn’t
really matter how guilty he felt for that or that it almost broke him down at the spot.
What mattered, though, was that he couldn’t even beg to get a proper good-bye—not with
wrists stuck in long sleeves of a shirt, which he wrestled with more desperately by each
passing second.
It was a tired groan that stopped Haruka’s hands in their vigorous effort to tear the fabric
apart, and he lowered his head while his normal friends laughed over something in the
common room.
"Don’t be angry with me, dummy." With a stomach tightened into sailors’ knots Haruka
blinked in awe when warm fingers grazed cautiously over his naked collar-bones, and a timid
whisper fought its way through the debilitating voices in his ears. "I never know what to do."
It was dejected, and it was a plea, and Haruka had no answer to give to that.
"I’ve wanted to run to you like crazy, I swear, ever since I woke up."
Exhaustion resonated through the quiet confession when shy fingertips danced down his arms
until their fingers entwined. Haruka shut his eyes firmly for a second, not really putting up a
fight, standing still with just skin separating his blood from that in Rin’s veins.
And he wanted to say something, spit some acidic remarks to make Rin’s day at least a bit
closer to the shitty state his own had been. To make himself feel little less of a failure that
could do nothing right when it came to things outside of the pool, even though that’s exactly
what he was.
"Idiot," he barked at least, but didn’t move an inch away while he was being engulfed in
safety. "You can’t afford to miss a whole day of training like that."
"I know."
Rin seemed to wait for a short, uncertain while. And when he finally breathed deeply in
Haruka’s hair, taking what surely was his scent in, he had to wonder if Hagino had ever met
someone he would feel like this with—completely undone, a fucking poison sucked out of
his incapable heart where it lay for who knew how long.
Curious fingers travelled over Haruka’s bare neck and shoulders, oblivious to the devil inside
of his head, for some reason not afraid in the least. As if they knew he would never slap them
away—something he wasn’t sure about himself.
In one confusing moment Rin’s face was sweetly pressed into his neck—a wordless plea to
stop the nonsense—and Haruka growled, annoyed.
The realization was as shocking as it was nothing new, that Rin wasn’t scared of him, not
now, not ever. Not in the way Makoto or anyone else would be, had they been on the
receiving end of this treatment. Rin was the one that always yelled and pushed, almost too
violent to stand it, the only hand that could bring him from the bottom of an ocean.
Empty barks and bitter remarks didn’t have any effect on him; probably only cheered him on.
Bastard.
Even now Haruka was weak, there was no denying, utterly frail against the force that
continued to squeeze around him like a lifebelt.
"Besides," a voice mumbled against his skin, sending goose bumps right down to his feet. "I
need a job if I want to have a place to take you to, don’t I?"
It was a simple statement, innocent and without oddly underlying connotations, yet it still did
funny jumping things to Haruka’s heart as his eyes fell open.
He left her house?
And before Rin could take it back, the stupid question was out.
"Can I stay over? Tonight?"
The simple plea made in the sudden twilight of a mind seemed to render Rin wordless, and
Haruka gulped down audibly in the sudden silence, wanting to smash his head against the
wall until his brain would spill out.
It wasn’t like he got an invitation, least to say for today.
The heart pressed against Haruka’s back broke into a mad spurt, though, and staring into the
darkness of the closet like a hoping idiot he realized that waiting for an answer wasn’t, in
fact, needed.
Rin nodded anyway, forehead pressed bitter-sweetly against his shoulder.
It was a very, very nice feeling—the pace of a wild beating drum that wasn’t his own running
through his body—offering his own to follow track.
'Smash his sick mug right then and there.'
When voices repeated for the last time and then died out, Haruka lowered his head. In a
wordless surrender to the plain fact he wouldn’t survive without Rin’s presence anymore, he
knew the most horrible thing that he was so afraid of had already happened.
And it was weird.

'Hang his balls right here on the ceiling.'
How terrifying it was to depend on someone’s light to illuminate your life.
Narrow stairs up to the attic apartment felt like a road to the sky as he let himself be led with
eyes closed.
Rin let go of his hand just once when his landlord pushed his grey head out of the door on the
first floor, checking if he wasn’t bringing a girl visitor. It brought out a crooked smile on
Rin’s lips, and in Haruka a feeling the spiral staircase was shaking under their synchronized
steps.
Old grey colour fell off the railings everywhere he placed his fingertips, Rin’s palm was hot
and nervously clammy all the way up, and tonight, there wasn’t a power in the world that
could force him back to his own bed.
The room was smaller than any he had ever seen before. A scrubby table under the small
window took most of the space, leaving some only for a hanger with a few clothes that
Haruka recognized must have been Anna’s gifts—probably too expensive to even keep
folded. A white shelf with a few worn-out books, a narrow single bed, and Rin’s still full
travelling bags pushed to the other wall.
The place didn’t feel cramped despite it all, he thought, eyes going slightly wider in wonder
as he let his backpack fall down to his feet slowly.
"I said it’s nothing much," an apologizing voice said next him, and Haruka’s shoulders shook
slightly under the observing stare.
"It’s fine," he objected hoarsely, a funny feeling washing over his heart like a tsunami.
Clean and tidy, the room screamed of Rin’s touch wherever he lay his eyes. It was simple and
nice, everything Haruka would ever chose for himself, but that wasn’t the reason.
It wasn’t just fine.
With doubtful eyes he scanned the angles of the low roof, empty white walls, thoroughly
searched for explanation of the strange sensation. Over the bamboo blinds on the open
window, slowly moving in the late spring breeze that promised a sprinkle outside; clacking
soothingly against the window frame. Bluish shadows that the screen of Rin’s laptop threw
all over from its place on the table.
It was the fact that he had never been allowed to any world that belonged to Rin before.
Never but now, and here, in this tiny hideout, Rin had willingly made him a part of it.
It was overwhelming, and in the silence that didn’t make space for unwanted guests on this
side of the door, or in his head, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
"I’ll be right back," Rin’s deep voice echoed within the fragile bubble like a taiko drum,
making his heart pick up an already quick pace.
Sidestepping Haruka in order to get to the bags on the floor, Rin threw him an insecure look.
He dug out what looked like a T-shirt and straightened up with an eager face, hesitating. And
even though Haruka blinked in shock, lately he had been getting better at closing his eyes just
in time.
He had no idea where, or how exactly they perfected these motions, when all their kisses
could be counted on fingers of two hands. With each touch, it seemed, Rin taught him
something new—how to breathe in when a languidly moving tongue released his for a second
in widely open mouths, or how to bring himself even closer when it seemed already
impossible. How to not defy everyone and everything for a change, but rather fall without a
fight into the rhythm of Rin’s mouth anytime he decided to dive deeper into Haruka’s oddly
tottering existence.
Like a blindly following pupil, he followed every path this expert showed him.
"Don’t," Rin breathed out, voice lost in throat, and Haruka drowsily tore his eyelids open.
"Don’t even think about running away while I’m gone."
His fingers reached after the loop of Rin’s belt too late, when it already must have lay on the
floor behind the door. Where would he go, he thought, giving his head a small shake that no
one saw.
You’re everywhere I turn.
It was a quiet, quiet night in the old house, no music played in the background like it
sometimes does in the movies while Rin had been kissing him, or now that his shaky sigh
resonated over the sounds of a running shower.
Only soft tapping behind the window made him push the blinds away and blink into the
opaque night. Old Yanaka district lay underneath, drowned in darkness, tall skyscrapers too
far to even see properly. And for a moment it felt as if he was staring down his own street in
Iwatobi.
This definitely wasn’t Tokyo. It wasn’t the pushy, crowded world he had already started to
loathe.
The rain was gentle against his palm when he leaned his elbow against the window frame
and, with lips swollen from Rin’s inhuman kisses, smiled foolishly for the first time that day.
Should I join him in there?
A little drop ran down his forearm, smeared characters on papers that lay scattered on the
table, and Haruka didn’t know if it was the crazy shower idea or the sight that caused his
heart to break into a gallop.
In the midst of a disarray, red, dignified university names stood out on various copies of
applications—so far all blank and empty.
Obviously not touched yet.
A car passed down the street, riding through every muddy puddle on the road—the sound
making Haruka’s world shrink into a match box.
He hasn’t applied yet?
It was the first thought as his suddenly feeble fingers flipped through the pages of the almost
very same paper he had filled in more than a year ago.
His face looked paler than Rin’s own as it stared back in the reflection of the window, night
behind suddenly not so calming.
Nervously looking for the name he knew so well from the façade of his own school, Haruka
knew it was probably stupid to read too much into it.
He hasn’t applied to Toyo?
It wasn’t as if Rin was obligated to apply where Haruka studied just because of the
swimming team, he thought frantically, and let out a choked sound when the name finally
appeared on one of the papers.
Or because Hirai expected him to. It was Rin’s prerogative to go elsewhere, there were no
limitations for someone this smart. He could go anywhere he wanted, anywhere really.
Shut up.
Especially with Hagino studying there, too.
Shut the fuck up.
The door creaked behind him, and he flinched as if caught at a crime.
"Would you believe that that shit-head manager almost kicked me out on my first day
because he thought I dye my hair red?" The question was strangely puzzling as Rin walked
into the room like a water god, hair wetly crimson, skin pinkish from the heat. Oblivious to
the way Haruka blinked jaw-slacked into the dazzling bathroom light, or to the universe
kneeling down for him. "Said I was a punk, arsehole. He wouldn’t listen shit until I showed
him mum’s and Gou’s picture. As if it wasn’t enough I had to spend a double shift—twelve
fucking hours at the hot oil pot with damn burning chips. I swear, I’ll never be hungry again."
It was a strikingly quiet night when Haruka chuckled softly into the silence, and amused
fatigue shouted from every pore of Rin’s still glowing skin as he glanced from the bed where
he tried to pull clean socks on.
In this light he looked like an old movie star from those cheesy flicks he liked so much,
Haruka thought—even when he wasn’t doing anything much, but staring up with eyes slowly
turning cautious—like prey waiting for Haruka’s first move. Torturously innocent and bad at
the same time, one look of his would squeeze the air out of much bigger places than this tiny
room.
As young and dangerous as when they first met.
"He’s right," Haruka said in a raspy voice, willing to sell anything to see what Rin would
look like in forty years; when they were old and grey, together still. "It is weird."
Rin didn’t seem to remember they were still talking about his boss when Haruka walked
those two unsteady metres to fall down on his knees. Or when he softly ran fingers through
his wet, thick hair and finally lowered his head down into warm lap like a newly found pup.
Don’t let me go.
Like a lucid dream he wasn’t sure he was really dreaming, warm hands pulled him forward,
up onto the bed, next to the body Haruka never truly believed he would lay again. A
shivering silence stretched while their fingers hastily entwined, so firmly it hurt, and Rin’s
eyes crinkled up at the corners.
"Says a Japanese person with the bluest eyes in the world."
Haruka tried to roll his eyes, but nothing happened except for a shaky whimper falling out of
his mouth.
It wasn’t fair; Rin wasn’t fair, with the face he made as if he was deliriously happy just from
the closeness of their faces. Haruka wasn’t begging, didn’t know how to, and it would only
scare Rin off more. Knees touching, eyes too close to each other to see anything but
captivating blackness, every stroke of Rin’s thumb proved the truth that he was quite fine
before him, for all he knew.
Only he would rather rip his bowels out than going back to that place when he once tasted
this bliss.
"Will you go out with me?"
The question was surprisingly odd and misplaced in the two-inch wide space between their
mouths and chests, and it probably showed on his face.
"Here I thought I already was," Haruka said at length, lips crooking against his will while
light rain outside combated with the sound of Rin’s somewhat bated breath.
"Here I thought I’d get an actual answer from you for once."
A giggle turned out a little too nervous, and Rin’s face suddenly turned serious.
"I meant what I said yesterday." A sweaty hand didn’t let go of Haruka’s own, squeezing like
there was no tomorrow, and he didn’t know what to say. Not even when Rin added brokenly,
heart in his eyes. "I wanted to tell you the whole day through, but couldn’t over the phone.
That, you know, it’s fine if you don’t... see it the way I do right now."
It was idiotic, and so oddly alarming that Rin could be this blind. That he could possibly
think, for a damn moment, that Haruka would be here if he wasn’t dying after him like a
desperate stalker.
"I’ll wait for you to catch up."
That there would be a distantly similar moment like this in life without him.
When Haruka croaked his answer at last, it wasn’t because Rin needed to hear something
back. It was looking for a way out of his cowardly throat long before now.
"Only if I can call you Rin-Rin."
He forced his body to move before he could say more silly things, or outright confess
everything there was. But the grin that spread all over Rin’s face had already burned another
indelible memory into his mind.
"Shit, Nanase. Like... Shit. You know what? I wanna shout it to the whole world," Rin choked
out underneath him while Haruka hovered over, and from above he looked twelve years old
again, not almost twenty. Especially when he stretched his arms out as much as possible in
the confined space and shouted from his lungs over Haruka’s shaky shoulder. "All you damn
losers, go eat your fucking shit! ’Cause Nanase’s mine!"
The bed quivered when Haruka joined the childish giggle and rolled his eyes, shocked by the
fact this was love. At the end of a long, shitty day, at the beginning of rainy June.
A simple, passable moment of fun, and everything to ever dream of.
"You’re an idiot," he breathed into Rin’s face, earning a seductive smirk.
"Oh yeah, keep saying that to me."
As if the gently falling raindrops behind the blinds steadily washed it away, Rin’s
mischievous grin faded slowly into nothingness, and Haruka’s own followed suit.
And there couldn’t be a flashier sign than the synchronized beat in their chests; it was here.
Someone’s name resonated softly against the walls, and it honestly felt as if the world was
shaking around them while he let his full weight down on Rin to bring what he had learned
from him back to life.
Kissing was easy, becoming someone else’s wasn’t.
It couldn’t be that different from the first time he had dived into water as a kid, Haruka knew,
all naive and unaware of claws that rested under the surface then.
But then, he hadn’t known shit about what real danger was.
Rin’s hitched breath begged for something while Haruka searched flawless lines, curves, and
angles underneath his still damp shirt. His closed eyes knew them all by heart from years of
shameless staring, his shaking fingers didn’t yet.
It was high time to mend it.
"Haru."
So what if it lasted for a few hours and then never repeated again. They would be hours spent
in the shelter of safe arms, and Rin would surely make it a memory that no one could ever
beat, as long as Haruka was alive.
So what if, right now, Rin saw all the flaws and bruises in and out.
It’s not like he hadn’t made many of them himself.
"It’s alright. It’s fine," Haruka said almost inaudibly, giving up a safety seatbelt on the skin of
Rin’s bared hip and further. "Just don’t bite."
Everything he had, he placed in hands that curled in fabric on the small of his back, waiting
on him under the starters’ block while he was about to jump head-first, like always.
Rin could do whatever he wanted with it.
Whatever, even throw it away.
"Please, look at me."
Rin swore, swollen lips in Haruka’s vision slightly apart, fingers digging into wrist of his
travelling hand. Without intent to hurt, but with a clear statement, nevertheless. He pulled
skin to his lips and kissed, leaving a burning mark as an aftermath.
He should repeat the plea more than once, though, if he really wanted Haruka’s eyes to fall
open.
He couldn’t, and he didn’t, because this wasn’t even real.
I just...
"You," Rin murmured brokenly, grazing fingers over the stinging skin on Haruka’s neck, his
own art. "You always bring out the best in me."
Don’t understand why not.
"But sometimes even the worst. I don’t get it."
The silence felt impossibly long while Haruka’s shut eyes watered in the crook of a warm
neck, but nothing could make sense of the fact that they were talking instead of doing what
they should be doing.
"I wonder if that’s what love does to one."
Haruka wondered, too.

When Rin pursed his lips and got up to dig in the bathroom’s cabinet, mute and obviously
miserable. When he tentatively placed cold fingers with cooling ointment on the bruises,
which burned much more of the touch itself than the half-healed hickeys. When the sound of
warm rain outside ultimately fell apart under the assault of a movie that he let play on his
laptop, and Haruka recognized the one they had watched in the cinema together those weeks
ago.
And when the mattress finally dipped behind Haruka, hands curled around him like they had
that one time in the warm Australian night, he wondered what so wrong love like this could
possibly bring out in anyone.
"Are you going to quote tonight? From the movie?"
"No." A drowsy whisper fell into his hair, both half-way to dreamland already, and he wasn’t
sure he appreciated the joke as much as he should. "I don’t need to seduce you anymore."
***
A radio hummed quietly in the back of Old Ita’s shop when tardy steps announced the old
man’s presence behind Haruka’s back, the same old catastrophic news all over.
"A young lady is asking for you, Nanase-san," he said, making Haruka growl as he snapped
his stiff neck around. A chisel fell on the table with a resonating clack, and he sighed when
Old Ita didn’t seem to stop complaining under his breath, tired feet shuffling slowly back to
the front of the shop. "I don’t understand a word she says, and she didn’t even purchase
anything. These young Western people have no manners."
The sound of the old cranky voice dissipated behind the wall, a premonition of disaster
passing strong through Haruka’s senses.
It was as hard as it was this sunless Sunday morning, simply being here. Somewhere in the
suburbs of the city was a slowly cooling bed, and even though no one lay in it anymore, he
was still one foot out the door to run back to it.
The horrible foreboding didn’t turn out to be correct, at least.
"I’m sorry to bother you while you’re working, Haru." Jane smiled uncertainly, pink colour
adorning her cheeks like a personification of a fresh Spring. And all he could think of was the
moment Rin’s sleep-heavy eyes had finally opened into his own and intricate redness flooded
the constellation of freckles down his throat. "I hoped you’d be able to find a little time for
me when you’re done here. Perhaps? I can wait, no problem."
He better get used to being watched.
Jane cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable under his faraway stare, so Haruka rather let
his eyes wander elsewhere.
I’m going to watch him every night from now on.
She seemed surprised when Old Ita simply waved his hand, allowing Haruka a short pause
without further ado, but maybe she just didn’t know how working relations were in Japan.
There was no awe in her face, though, while they walked through the Ameyoko market; as if
she had already gotten used to the world that must have certainly looked foreign to her eyes
at first.
Maybe she just had different things to worry about.
"I know you don’t have much time, Haru. So just let me say what I need, and I won’t bother
you anymore."
The statement crawled reluctantly out of her lips as she dawdled above the menu of the side-
street izakaya they had sat down in long minutes ago, not meeting his eyes. She didn’t carry
on, only ran her fingertips along the characters she couldn’t read to save her life, and Haruka
sighed.
He really didn’t need to hear it, whatever it was, but the finality in her words was not
welcome.
Jane wasn’t unpleasant to be with, even though some of their shared memories were of a kind
he would rather un-remember, if possible.
Lost in her thoughts, she seemed scared to start whatever had brought her here. She wasn’t
forcing a conversation while Haruka ordered for them both, or while a gabbling crowd passed
them on the street, uninterested and unfamiliar.
None of those people knew the miserable days that turned them into friends—when the two
of them stood on the same side of the battlefield that was Rin’s life—and no one cared.
'A powerful 8.5 magnitude earthquake struck near remote Japanese islands and shook most
of the country on Saturday evening local time, although it occurred well beneath the earth’s
surface and did not trigger a tsunami warning. The quake was powerful enough to rattle most
of Japan, though, from the southern islands of Okinawa to Hokkaido in the north. It caused
buildings to sway in Tokyo about 620 miles north of the Ogasawara islands and temporarily
disrupted some train services in the city.'
"I really don’t know why." She laughed nervously, pulling his attention away from TV-news
running on the small device in the izakaya window. "But since I arrived for the first time
there’s always been some disaster happening in your country. Thunderstorms, floods,
earthquakes, always something."
"It’s normal here," Haruka let out after a while, not too keen on holding a lecture about the
frailness of the world when she seemed on the verge of drowning herself in her beer. "You’ll
get used to it once—"
"I apologize for what I said that morning, and I’m not saying it because I have to, or because
Rin want me to. First of all, he still doesn’t know I am able to talk to you."
Blue Mizuhiki strings swung from the low roof right above her head as she stared at him,
wide-eyed. Against the grey, low-hanging sky their colours made her look festive and
somewhat fragile, and he couldn’t really do anything but smile a little to ease her mind. She
really didn’t need to be this nervous around him.
Oh, thank gods.
It was just the same old shit again, no doubt, but at least it wasn’t anything worse.
"It’s alright." He breathed out with relief, unable to decipher whether there was scolding in
her last sentence, or not. "You don’t have to say anything,"
He just wished to know if a day would eventually come when people stopped bringing up the
worst night of his life.
"I know you’re not the kind to get angry at me. But I am ashamed," Jane stated firmly into
the clamour of the market, cheeks of a dark pink colour, as if it was normal to bring back the
past everybody wanted to forget. "Maybe it’s more for me than you, but... You have to
understand."
She trailed off, and echoes of shoppers’ hollering carried through the market while the foolish
hope she would forget those miserable moments slowly but steadily floated away like a
lantern in the wind.
He gulped down the bitterness of a beer, and in one swift moment her face turned to the
epitome of affection. It wasn’t even surprising when she reached out for his hand and
squeezed it tight.
"I get that you don’t exactly like Anna, it’s understandable. But she’s not just what you see,
she’s been there for me, and for Rin too, anytime we needed it. She’s loyal and caring, even
though she doesn’t particularly enjoy people knowing that. Back when we were young girls,
she and her dad did something for me, and I will never, as long as I’m alive, pay my dues for
that." Her voice wavered in his ear, but maybe it was just the glass falling off the waitress’s
tray to the ground afar. "In spite of this, I wouldn’t have done differently that night, because I
love Rin, and I already love you the same."
Haruka couldn’t help but feel it too, even though he really, really didn’t want to hear about
Jane’s best friend one more minute of his life.
It was clear in her voice, as she let go of his hand and turned her clouded gaze elsewhere, that
she could see that much.
"And even Anna makes mistakes, especially after falling so horribly for the wrong person.
And sometimes... Sometimes there has to be someone to stop us when we ourselves can’t."
"You’re not making any sense again." Haruka sighed, suddenly wishing to just return back to
work already.
It was going to be a nightmare to focus on anything now that she let the ghosts out again, and
she didn’t even seem to be done with it yet.
"That night at her dad’s place, after the dinner you served to all of us..." she went on, and
Haruka raked his hair, shifting restlessly on the squeaky chair. "I’ve never seen Rin so broken
before. It wasn’t just miserable, Haru, there I’ve been myself many times. It was in his eyes
when he came from talking to you, I saw it immediately. He was done."
No.
"He’s like a lost child without you, Haru. Always been."
Don’t drag me back there.
A biting sting in Haruka’s chest almost tore him from the chair and pushed into a run while
the memory of white lilies on the ground emerged, gorgeous and horrifying.
"I jeopardized my most treasured friendship to open his eyes then, so he could be happy
while my best friend cried her eyes out upstairs. I’m not saying this to get your gratitude,
Haru, or anything. I want you to understand why I could barely look at you the next morning,
when you left him alone despite him desperately needing you in his shittiest moment, after he
begged you to stay with him, and for what? To run with the only other person in the whole
world that could still hurt him."
"I," Haruka stammered, too shocked to be certain he understood her fast, accented English
properly. Too deafened by the banging of Rin’s fists against the hood of Yamazaki’s car. "I
didn’t know."
"I know you didn’t, and I get he hurt you too. But... dear god, I swear I’ve never seen him
drunk like that before. I was half-convinced he had jumped off the first roof after he got lost,
but, thankfully, he wasn’t in a state to climb anywhere above the first bench he met."
'Later last night a magnitude 6.5 earthquake in the region of Kumamoto brought down
buildings, killed nine people and injured about 800. More than 100 aftershocks followed until
the bigger quake this morning, which led to the earlier, smaller event being reclassified as a
foreshock.'
Light raindrops sprinkled the wooden table between them while someone turned the TV’s
volume up, and Haruka tried to find his lost breath.
But under the sea there was no air, and he was too deep in the nightmare that Jane had
brought up from its restless bottom. Pictures he had dreaded to put down on paper, and only
now understood it didn’t make sense, really.
They would be in his head for as long as he was alive.
How lost Rin must have felt that night after Haruka flew in that damn car? How lonely. Like
there was no one that cared enough to keep him sane.
But he didn’t want me then.
Like there was no one that wanted to hold him.
But he sent me away.
"I guess he didn’t tell you any of it."
No, of course he didn’t.
With the certainty of yet another disaster coming to torture this land Haruka realized that it
wasn’t the worst night of just his life, but Rin’s too. It didn’t quite matter who started the
mess, when they both were stupid enough to keep it rolling down the steep hill.
Something painfully grabbed onto his wrists, and Haruka looked up from Jane’s white fingers
to her serious face.
"Haru, Anna doesn’t know how big part I played in all that. Rin’s protecting me, and I feel
like I can trust you with it. But, please, no one else can know, okay?"
"What did you tell him?" He managed to nod and get the question through his lips at length,
but she just shook her head and shrugged, as if it wasn’t important at all.
But it was, and very much, to be honest.
Her eyes burned holes into his face, and Haruka understood that without this girl he wouldn’t
have spent last night in Rin’s warm bed, so safe he didn’t even feel the desolating quakes of
the Earth which, in fact, usually frightened him.
He would have probably spent it sleeplessly checking Anna’s Facebook page—yet another
'recent news' from 2015 for the fiftieth time.
"Well," she concluded, most likely leaving bruises on his wrists as she finally let go of them
with a dismal, self-deprecating smile. "I better be going. I’m pretty sure you’ve had enough
of me for the rest of your life."
It didn’t take her more than a minute to place enough yen on the table and lean forward to
place a hasty kiss on his cheek.
In that moment Haruka finally understood where Rin’s weakness for this girl stemmed from,
for the first time ever. And he felt exactly the same as he forged forward and held her
porcelain hand gently.
"Come to my school’s festival," he said, a little shaken by touching somebody of his own
accord, especially a girl. "Everybody will be there. Even Makoto."
If she seemed surprised and genuinely delighted by the offer at first, it all disappeared at the
sound of the last word.
A bitter smile filled her eyes, and she pursed her lips as she spoke.
"Well, in that case, I don’t think I’ll be free."
Time felt slow as the crowd kept walking past her leaving figure, people throwing curious
glances at her round, fair beauty.
Haruka turned in the opposite direction, heart weirdly squeezed, not sure if they would ever
meet again, but certain she would never have to scold him for leaving Rin’s side again.
No matter what may come.
***
It would have been the longest and most boring rest of a Sunday ever, if it hadn’t been for the
occasional beeping of his phone under his pillow. Haruka might as well have spent the whole
evening doing nothing but sitting next to it, truthfully, since the biggest success of the night
had been staring blankly at the content of Gou’s package with a wildly running head.
It’s not like he had been disappointed that Rin finished his job long past midnight and headed
straight home to sleep.
Truthfully, it had been closer to utter desolation.
It was a good question why Rin looked so ragged today despite enough quality sleep, pulling
a bar forcefully to his chest for the thousandth time in a row. His gaze shifted to meet
Haruka’s in the wall mirror of the gym once again; kind of piercing, kind of amused, since it
happened on both sides far too often for it to be just a coincidence.
"Akiha, get over here." The grouchy voice of the land trainer resonated through the gym, and
on the other side of the room Hagino’s best friend let a womanly weight of barbells down
with a surprised puff. The bench next to Haruka’s screeched under the big man’s weight
when Akiha finally swayed in front of him, face spooked. "Hand out these vouchers."
"Me, sensei?"
Staring at the full envelope in his hand, Akiha didn’t seem to grasp the situation, but so didn’t
the trainer. His pen stopped mid-air above the notes as he looked up, nettled.
"No, your mother. Do it, and fast. Tatano-san has more important things to attend to than
your massage coupons."
With a grunt Haruka refused to raise into the sitting position another time, loathing this place
more than ever before. Not all were shaped for this kind of suffering, period.
And having your dream-come-true watch your martyrdom didn’t help improve your
performance much, obviously.
"God, you look awful." A slightly breathless voice commented intelligently above his sweat-
pouring face, and it felt like a painful death when Haruka breathed out huffily, muscles
hurting as if something viciously fed on them. A head emerged upside-down in his field of
vision then, hidden from the rest of the gym by a hanging towel. It made the conversation a
bit too intimate for the environment, especially with hot, irregular breath dancing over his
blood-filled cheeks. "Guess you’ve had enough for today."
"No."
Rin’s eyes narrowed to slits when Haruka restarted his work-out without further ado, barely
moving away in time before their foreheads banged like two asteroids.
"Oi, Nanase, don’t piss me off. I see you’re breathin’ your last."
It wasn’t that bad, Haruka thought as he snickered at the nonsense and pushed his torso up
yet another time. Mainly, though, if he loathed anything more than land-training, it was
someone deciding when he had had enough of it.
Moving somewhere on the thin edge of hell and heaven, definitely not alive enough to
formulate something sophisticated during a sit-up, he broke the answer in halves.
"You go if—you can’t keep up."
"What? Unlike you, I can go for hours." The towel fell off Rin’s startled head when Haruka
finally shut his eyes, deciding it was for the better to not watch his own face while suffering.
"I just thought that you... Nah."
Rin waved his hand huffily, sigh waspish and irritated, giving up on him.
"Crybaby," Haruka pushed out, surely spitting a little blood.
Provoking further, because it wasn’t just his imagination that the familiar competitive gleam
was really in the mirror once he glanced up again; the one that said it was going to rip him in
two if he wasn’t good enough.
But, oh, he was.
Sparks shot up his veins when Rin swiftly changed his mind from leaving to staying and
turned to the pull-up station right next to his bench. Haruka scoffed at the impish grin, but
waited still, watching with interest how long fingers curled around the iron bar.
Muscles straining, Rin was honestly sure he would beat Haruka anytime and anywhere
outside of the pool, and the simple fact made him want to tear that smirk apart.
"Just don’t go begging me for CPR later."
There was a warning in a deep, challenging voice, an arrogance that pissed Haruka off even
more than Rin’s sometimes too-caring side.
His own face looked determined in the reflection as he gritted his teeth and nodded ever so
slightly, accepting the stupid challenge.
And when Rin brought himself up on the bar as if it was nothing, he felt too like beating the
whole world.
At once the world shrunk into Haruka’s own knees, the ceiling, and the excruciating pain as
he pushed himself harder than ever in this gym before. Rin’s face in the mirror didn’t even
crease from the effort while their eyes anchored at each other, and the smug smile sent
Haruka’s heart rate over the moon.
Damn, he thought frantically as his body started to shake from the overload way too soon, he
was not going to give up.
He would not be beaten by a big-headed asshole that could 'go for hours' supposedly.
He was not any worse.
He would not give in just because he was a few insignificant centimeters shorter, kilograms
lighter, or had been allowed into Rin’s bed one single time.
Thin lips crooked in the mirror provocatively, and it ticked Haruka off how the idiot made
every pull-up look effortless, working with his whole weight as fast and easy as if there was
no limit to a man’s body.
Rin was a show-off, no doubt, and it was all theatre.
His muscles surely ached with agony too, and even he couldn’t go forever, but it didn’t really
make a difference. Eyes burning, he was enjoying himself too much to let go until he fell
dead or won, and not even adrenaline or a heavy burst of malice could make Haruka keep the
crazy pace any longer.
Fuck.
This.
Shit.
With a last whimper he cried out and gave up, throwing himself against the bench like a bag
of potatoes. It was all lost. He didn’t last half as long as he thought he still could, and it
annoyed him to the core—more for the lapse in his judgement than the betrayal of his body,
in fact.
The mocking snicker from the pull-up station tasted really bitter then, but it was miles from
lonely last night’s foul flavour.
The damp towel landed right on his face, soaked in Rin’s fucking pheromones, and he let a
hand sway his head from side to side. Condescendingly, as if he was a three-year old falling
off the climbing frame.
"Sometimes I’m not sure if you really could be that dumb," a laughing voice said too close to
his ear, breathy and hot, and the almost hysterical undertone of Rin’s whisper resonated
through the fabric covering Haruka’s ear. "You can never beat me here."
"Shut-up." Haruka ripped the towel off, furiously catching for breath, but threw it into the
cheeky grin more softly than was originally intended. The same excitement that shook his
own insides made Rin’s pupils wide as he smirked from above, colours barely shown, and he
could hardly hide his own smile tugging on his lips.
Honestly, he thought while a pair of sneakers halted in front of him, and his eyes carelessly
raised up to Akiha’s deep frown, no other in the whole world pissed him off more than Rin
could any time of day.
But no other made him feel this light, too.
"What it is?" He laughed hoarsely when Akiha’s scowl didn’t retreat for too long and pulled
on the bottle in Rin’s hands to get a sip, too.
It was impossible to get his running heart under control again, especially when he didn’t even
want to. Rin stood too close to allow that, anyway, trembling next to his bench from exertion.
Fabric of his sweatpants grazed here and there Haruka’s knee while they wrestled stupidly
about the water, until he simply let go, losing at least this fight.
No one would get it, it was too faint to even insinuate they were something more than
friends, but the sentiment might have made Haruka fall yet a little bit more.
Then again, he realized with heart painfully skipping a beat, maybe not so much with the
eagle gaze of the whole room on them.
He tore his eyes from Hagino’s sharp ones on the other side of the gym when a hand thrust a
piece of paper into his face. When Akiha’s eyebrows rose with a silent question, Haruka
blinked up stupidly, his brain still too diverted to decipher the actual meaning behind it.
It probably wasn’t the best idea to take the voucher with such unstable fingers, or speak with
a shaky voice. The boy in front of him was waiting, though, and he didn’t seem to be in a
patient mood.
"Thank you."
Low and meek, it didn’t earn him an answer, not even a nod before Akiha turned to walk
away. Somehow Haruka didn’t even expect it to. He just tried to keep his face expressionless
while water droplets from the bottle sprinkled the ground as Rin moved forth, unconsciously
kneeing his thigh.
"Hey." It was when Rin took a step following Akiha’s back, muscles of his neck stiff and
ready, that something plunged forcefully into the pit of Haruka’s stomach. "You forgot ’bout
me? Or I don’t need one?"
His hand shot up sooner than he could think it through, pulling feebly on cotton sweats, and
Rin’s name resonated like a weak plea just as Akiha’s smirking face turned around with a
clear answer.
The one that Rin couldn’t understand.
"What the fucking hell? What’s your problem? What’s all of your problem?"
They were billion-yen questions to the gravely muted gym, of course, asked with rightful
bewilderment and ultimately lost patience towards the ignorance.
And it crushed the rest of happiness from Haruka’s chest on a dime.
"Will ya’ come back and explain, asshole?" Rin barked after Akiha’s retreating back, voice
aggravated and too loud in the suddenly choking space. And Haruka didn’t know if he was
happy or not that the land trainer had disappeared somewhere a good while ago while they
raced.
The moment Hagino let his feet fall down from the bicycle with a dull thud, and three or four
others stood up from their machines, he got his answer.
He shot up in a flash before Rin could move another inch and grabbed on his tightened
shoulder. Unnecessary as it was, though, because a tense face emerged in his field of vision
and hastily leaned into Rin’s own.
"You go now."
It was an uptight order, and a strangled, confused sound escaped Rin’s surprised lips. The tall
swimmer that Haruka always thought as fairly stupid gave them both a serious look and
appeared even more massive as he moved towards Hagino’s darkly approaching figure.
"Senpai, may I have a word with you, please?"
Haruka couldn’t find a word to say while Rin mutely gathered his thoughts with face
confused, or while realizing the boy, who now talked to a gravely scowling Hagino, suddenly
wasn’t the only one separating them.
Three other swimmers tried their best to appear nonchalantly, creating a human wall against
Hagino’s excitedly shaking men that waited for a single provocation.
Within the suffocating space Haruka’s stomach quaked like the ground had yesterday as his
hand slipped from the hot shoulder, too easily on the sweat-slick skin, and when Rin opened
his mouth to speak Haruka choked out his name feebly.
"You really should go. Takahashi-kun has it covered," the closest of the three swimmers
muttered their way, black eyes worried, and a hint of apologizing smile traced their corners as
they scattered around the room and then returned to Rin’s flabbergasted face. The boy
seemed somewhat reluctant for a second, and Haruka only managed to take a breath before
he added ruefully. "Not all of us are dickheads here. But, you know, with Hagino’s cretins’
crew you’d do better to choose another place to wave your rainbow flag."
The advise was as good-natured as it was clear. And no sudden moment of lucidity came that
could tell Haruka what to do to prevent Rin’s brain from functioning properly.
"Wha—?"
He should make it look like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t have a clue when seconds ticked off
and then that horrified gaze awfully slowly turned to him, he should do anything but confirm
it with silence.
The forgotten towel that smelled like Rin’s bed hung dead-squeezed in his hand, and he felt
none of his own pain while those eyes stared him down. He didn’t have to when Rin’s own
topped him up.
"What? That’s... that’s bullshit. Tell them it’s bullshit."
The wounded laugh Rin gave out sounded lame, and Haruka wished no one heard when a
hand grabbed onto his arm with a soundless plea.
"Tell them."
Chapter 15
Chapter Notes
Hello guys!
How do you say hi after two years of silence? I don’t know! All I know is that here I am,
wanting to say sorry that I wasn’t able to finish this story earlier, and also to all the
amazing readers that took effort to comment on my fic and I didn’t respond immediately
- something that I usually never do. I’m not going to offer you an explanation, but
everything happens for a reason, and I don’t think I would have been able to finish this
story before.
It is finished, though. I am certain there aren’t many who remember this fic and/or
would care to read the rest of it. It has been too long. Despite this I had to finish it - if
for no one else then for me alone - and next six weeks I’m going to be uploading
regularly - one chapter per week, usually every Tuesday.
Before we start let me remind you of a fantastic person marbled¬_maven, who is by
now much more to me than just my editor. Without her this story would never be what it
is, and I will never stop to appreciate her insight, her thoughts on each scene, her
precious advices. I don’t have words to describe how hard this girl has been working on
this story, for free, in her spare time. Do you want to know how many times she had to
edit again chapters that I changed afterwards? A million times. How many times she
complained? Zero times. That’s the kind of person she is.
Upon her advice I’m adding some tags to this story, and also present you with a short
summary and a list of my own original characters - it’s really been too long to remember
them all, I know. Here we go.
List of original characters
Hagino - Haru's teammate, head of the Princesses (the group of privileged

swimmers/bullies)
Hirai - The head of Toyo University swimming team, Department of Health Care and
Sports, Faculty of Human Life Designs
Tatano - Haru's trainer, Hirai's assistant, Department of Health Care and Sports, Faculty
of Human Life Designs
Misaki - Haru's mother
Chang - Yakuza member, searching for Haru's father
Anna - Rin's ex-girlfriend, who he had brought along from Sydney
Kawasaki - Anna's father, businessman, politician
Jane - Anna's best friend, Makoto's girlfriend
Old Ita - Haru's employer
Summary
At the beginning of the story Haru realizes that Rin is returning to Tokyo, and not alone
- he's bringing his girlfriend and a new friend with him. Alongside his old friends Haru
finds that Rin has quit swimming and subsequently decides to find reasons for that. Not
only does Rin not seem happy, he also acts unreasonably jealous when Sousuke shows
affection towards Haru. What starts with a kiss in front of a night club in Shibuya
continues to lead both Rin and Haru on the road, at the end of which they find joy in
swimming together again. Rin is asked to join the swimming team of Toyo University
and quit his relationship with Anna. That's where the first part of the story ends.
Second part starts with Rin returning to Tokyo after wrapping up his life in Sydney. He
and Haru navigate their budding relationship with caution, in between preparation
trainings for The Championship in Doha, Qatar. Everything complicates when their
teammates find out about Rin being gay - or that's what they think after seeing him
trying to kiss Haru at the end of the first part of the story. What's going to happen now -
well, I invite you to read and find out for yourself.
I don’t have much more to say, guys, only that I’m really, really excited about this
finally happening, and I can’t wait to hear from you. Just like I always have, I appreciate
every thought, every comment, every word that any of you want to share with me. Don’t
forget that an author is who writes a story, but readers are who make it come alive. You
are very important! Thank you very much for giving my fic a chance.
Love, Enceladus
Sometimes it was clear that the universe didn’t give a shit. He could be trying to break his
legs or tearing his lungs apart, and there still would be planets and suns and galaxies spinning
somewhere around their gravitational centres—not giving a fuck about him and his major
problems.
Even now, when sharp lights reflected against the glass door that he slammed into with the
momentum of his running body, making him blind for a moment.
"Wait."
The word was choked out and not-heard through the thick air as he fell into the corridor,
blood pulsing wild in veins, and stumbled behind the scurrying feet that didn’t care about his
deep thoughts at all.
The slow-motion movie he found himself in didn’t let him move fast enough, even though
there were no more than two long strides to grab onto the fraying shirt and find the words to
make sense of everything.
A deep voice growled when he finally did, and he hated it more than how long fingers tried
to wrench free from his desperately clinging grasp.
"Let go," Rin hissed when Haruka jerked back and broke the mad spurt. Their sneakers
squeaked as they both lost balance on the worn-out lino.
The door shut closed on the other side of the corridor that Haruka had just run through,
leaving no light but that of the open, deserted classroom nearby. The yellow light flooded
creases around Rin’s mouth when Haruka’s hand obeyed the order and fell to his side. Rin’s
fingers pulled the stretched, nearly-torn fabric of his shirt back over his shoulder.
"Just... not now."
"Why not?"
"I..." Rin hesitated and fell silent. "I’m afraid I’d say something stupid."
That unspoken something hung in the dark space between them, where the weak light from
the clouded sky outside the row of windows couldn’t reach. Haruka hated it. He needed to
hear this, whatever it was on Rin’s mind—the anger, the disappointment, the fear, whatever—
as long as he wasn’t cut off and alone in his own head.
He lifted his fingers again to do something, either to soothe or to hold present whatever it was
that had glittered between them just moments ago in the gym.
"I better go," Rin said.
"No."
Rin laughed ruefully, his gaze glued to their joined shadows on the wall. Like a tide on the
ebb his feet moved slowly but steadily backwards, and it must have been the approaching
crowd of students from behind the corner that pushed him away. It couldn’t have been
Haruka himself. It couldn’t possibly be his inability to do anything right.
Laughing voices resonated from an opened door somewhere that was far too close, and
Haruka almost let it be, almost allowed Rin to go like he wanted. Only Rin was already
turning away, leaving, pissed, and it didn’t feel right. He sucked in air when the world tilted
like a carousel that someone switched without telling him to hold on tight.
When Haruka lunged forward, heart pounding like a death knell, for a second neither of them
knew why they were wrestling. If Rin’s hands wanted to free himself from the grasp on his
neck or were just too shocked to react properly. If Haruka’s held close or were simply trying
to release the anger that should have been let out on scumbags that were too far at the
moment.
Rin’s lips were chapped and open and shockingly hot under his mouth when Haruka pushed
them together. In a moment of surprise, Rin didn’t expect it either when Haruka’s hands
shoved them apart again. His awed expression spoke that there was something very wrong
with the way Haruka’s brain worked.
"What—?"
"You’re not going anywhere." Haruka hoped that the message got through—that only ten
minutes ago he had been showered with crispy jokes and smiles, only last night in a warm
bed he had been a prize to win. He didn’t care about having it any other way. "Not like this.
Not while you’re angry with me."
Rin blinked incredulously and then, like a flame, capillaries brought a blush up his neck. It
was gorgeous.
"Was that supposed to be a kiss?"
"I… yes?"
Somewhere above the crowd their names rang like a dull echo. Rin’s panicky eyes snapped to
find the source of the sound, then ran over the people that were filling the corridor from
behind Haruka’s back; talking, laughing, gibbering. Something like mortal fear shortly
crossed his features as Haruka took a step closer, as if he expected to be kissed again with all
of the people around. Haruka almost rolled his eyes.
"Nanase-kun, Matsuoka-kun, may I have a word with you? Please come in here."
Tatano’s timing could not be worse if he tried—he waved stiffly a good ten metres from
them, with a tight-lipped smile and eyes that didn’t reflect it at all. Haruka raised his hand in
a gesture that asked for a moment and the old man nodded. He raised his eyebrows, clearly
not happy to be forced to wait.
"I can’t believe this." Rin’s free hand swiped across his forehead when Tatano’s figure
reluctantly trudged back to the open classroom. He seemed to regain his senses, turned his
face back to Haruka and spoke in a hushed voice. "What are we gonna do now, huh?"
"I don’t know."
"Don’t know? To me you seem to know a hella lot."
Students around talked of their lives: of finished classes, of what were they going to have for
lunch, of who they had fallen in love with lately. Haruka narrowed his eyes. "What do you
mean?"
"I mean that you had all fucking last night to warn me. But you didn’t say shit."
"I—that’s not fair."
"Fair?" Rin hissed, tilting his face closer to keep the conversation private. "You let me go
there like a fucking cow to a slaughter."
"And what was I supposed to say?"
"I dunno, fucking anything?"
"You think it’s easy?" he blurted out, watching the way blood pulsed through the veins on
Rin’s neck. "To say someone wants to hurt you for being—"
"Shut the fuck up."
"—for being with me," Haruka finished gravely. The waft of Rin’s scent attacked his nose,
strong after hours spent working out in the gym. This was unfortunate, he thought and gasped
before speaking. "Don’t get that close. Idiot."
"Don’t call me that."
Rin’s breath was on his cheek, on his skin, so hot. It took Haruka an enormous effort to get
the words out. "I’ll do whatever I want. Idiot."
"It takes one to know one."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Tell me more about it," Haruka said, daring. "What?"
The muscles in Rin’s jaw spasmed, clenched, and released, and his tongue darted out to wet
his lips. Haruka blinked at the feeling of an energy shift in the passing air. Rin seemed to
grow up an inch as he observed Haruka from his better height. Realization crossed his eyes,
and a smile stirred the corner of his lips. Soft lips. Hot lips. Very, very alluring lips.
Reluctantly, Haruka tore his stare away. He cleared his throat—so much for discretion.
"You’re enjoying this."
"Don’t be a fool. It’s not fighting that I enjoy." Haruka deliberately kept his eyes up and
wondered why it wasn’t hard. Why it, in fact, felt easier to let Rin see. This way he didn’t
have to throw himself on the man, or say a single word that would mortify the life out of him
—like that he loved the way Rin was trying to fight off a smile and failing; the sweaty scent
coming off of his clothes: so Rin-like and absurdly turning him on.
"I’m still angry, you know?" Rin grinned, incisors sharp. "It won’t go away just like that."
Haruka rolled his eyes. "How can I make it better?"
"I wonder. How?"
"I’m sure I can think of a thing or two." Haruka looked Rin over, enjoying the way his grin
faltered. "Let’s find out later, in your room." He pushed past him, brushing their bodies
together. "I’ll tell Tatano you couldn’t make it."
"Ah, really?" Rin’s face was turning red again—a victory.
"Really. I’ll be fine on my own. Get lost before I change my mind."
"Sweet."
"Annoying."
Rin laughed. "Ah, don’t be so hard on yourself."
"God, just go away already."
Haruka walked toward Tatano’s office without a glance backwards, but he heard it above the
sounds of the crowd: that laughter again—an echo of Rin’s younger self once upon a time in
Iwatobi. Mature now, but just as wonderful. He walked into the open door, smiling a little
when he faced Tatano.
It seemed to be true; that it was possible to win a fight by not winning anything. Or, perhaps,
by having the right person on the other side of a barricade.
***
He floated among the worn-out furniture of Tatano’s office. He must have been—even the
man’s hair seemed to sway around his narrow face like it would under the surface of water.
With blinking and mouth moving lethargically, there was no way this was dry land.
"Here, this will be the last." The voice sounded somewhat funny when Haruka blinked
stupidly at the dotted line on the paper where Tatano’s trimmed nail was pointing.
He had no idea when he had been given a pen, or what exactly he had been signing the last
few minutes. His mind was short-circuiting, proceeding what he thought he had just heard
implied in a freezing voice. In a rigid body posture. In the frozen atmosphere of an office that
he had sat in so many times before.
"Thank you. I believe that will be everything for you, Nanase-san." The coldly polite tone in
the trainer’s voice stayed put as he took the pile of papers from the scratched table and
brushed the edges to align them. "I’ll have it all filled and signed properly by Hirai-san and
the committee by tomorrow, and they should get it in Doha by the end of the weak, at the
latest. I will inform you further."
Haruka recognized a dismissal when he was given one. With the old chair squeaking, he rose
and reached for the papers handed over the table. Thin folder rustled under their joined hands,
and a hint of something crossed Tatano’s eyes while Haruka stared into them, trying to
confirm he wasn’t right, that the attitude was the result of a bad stomach after a particularly
awful lunch or something. Whatever. Just not, pathetically, about him. The man’s eyes
refused to meet his twice.
"I will have similar forms printed out for Matsuoka-san. It is quite an inconvenience that he is
not yet an enrolled student. I believe it’s not a bother for you as a close friend to ask him to
put forth his application as soon as possible. It is a formality, but it must be done before the
Championship."
"No." Haruka tried to breathe. "I’ll talk to him."
"I will have to speak to both of you later regarding preparations and procedures for the
Championship, flight details, payment means. As for the papers, you can both give them
already filled directly to me. Consult me if there’s anything confusing. No need to involve
Hirai-san." Haruka nodded, and Tatano cleared his throat awkwardly. "Very well. We will see
each other tomorrow at the school festival team booth. There will be plenty of work with the
donation program for earthquake victims the university launched this morning."
With his hand already on the door knob, Haruka stilled. Suspicions aside, he imagined, with a
sudden outburst of horror, long hours working the booth under Hagino’s constant watch.
"Isn’t the presence voluntary?"
"It is not," Tatano said in a frosty voice that Haruka had never heard from him before,
rummaging in the dossiers. The unspoken 'it is, unless I make it so' floated around the room
when the sound of paper shifting stilled. "I… I’m not sure you understand what exactly is at
stake here, Nanase-san. Or how much risk the faculty bears by giving you both this chance.
"You’re talented, a hard-worker. Not many out there have the potential your body possesses.
Fewer of them have been trusted by Hirai-san to prove their worth." Tatano’s eyes bore down
into the papers and looked shaken when adding, "So don’t let these... feelings prevent you
from reaching your goal."
"Excuse me?" Haruka asked, too loudly to pass for polite.
"I… You know what I mean."
"Do I?" The doorknob trembled in Haruka’s hand.
"This isn’t a high school," Tatano continued in a quiet voice. "Ours is a respected university
and a highly regarded swimming team that produces top-placing athletes year after year. By
joining it you have become far more than just a student. More than a swimmer. There’s a lot
to lose if one becomes emotionally compromised."
"Emotionally compromised," Haruka repeated.
"Let me ask you a question. Is this... affinity returned by Matsuoka-san?"
Fingers gripping the knob painfully, Haruka thought furiously. Why should it matter, though,
his mind was asking—if some fifteen minutes ago his trainer had seen him planting a kiss on
another guy’s mouth. It shouldn’t change the way he acted. It shouldn’t put that look in the
eyes of the man Haruka thought he knew so well.
Of the man that was closest to being, well, not a father figure, since Haruka had no idea what
that exactly entailed. Definitely a trainer in more than a professional way. A cheerful, gentle
man that Haruka thought he knew, had come to like, enjoyed being around. The one who
cared.
Relationships within the team between male and female counterparts were far from rare, and
while not being openly supported, they were acknowledged and looked upon. If he had been
seen with his mouth on the regularly pretty backstroke swimmer Mio, he would have been
clapped on the shoulder rather than threatened to lose everything.
"Well, is it? Returned?" Tatano asked, and something like hate blossomed in Haruka’s heart.
"No, it is not."
"Very well." Dossiers in Tatano’s hands shut close. "Make sure you don’t impose any of it on
Matsuoka-san. He’s already trying to do what he can to support you, but there’s only so much
that could entail. You may leave, now. I don’t have anything more to say to you."
It felt like the water had reached Haruka’s neck and was splashing the back of his skull as he
ran down the corridor. A sickening promise to show him what he really was: a failure to this
man, just like to many others.
A reality check that nothing was simple; that people liked you only when you did as they
wished. That in this world no one understood that it wasn’t a decision to fall in love, that Rin
needed him just as much as he needed him back; to swim, to have a tomorrow to look
forward. That one without another they were always going to be just half of a whole.
***
...Pay attention, students...
From the front to the back, the school gym was full at the festival opening. School flags on
the dais stood still in the stiff air, and Haruka sweated in the crowd under his pristine white
collar. Faces of speakers high up in front of him held none of his attention.
Every five seconds his eyes turned to the figure leaning casually against the wall of the gym,
showily sticking out of the black sea of suits. Sleeves of a windbreaker rolled up, arms
folded, Rin didn’t give a shit about fitting in. Haruka couldn’t look away.
His mouth went dry whenever red eyes ran above the crowd, wishing he could catch the gaze
before many others that were staring the same way, girls giggling and swooning over what
was his, only his. Before he finally choked on this sparkling, pride-like happiness.
When they finally locked eyes, Rin’s lips crinkled at the corners. He let his head fall behind
in a fake dramatic snore and snapped it right back as if he had just woken up, looking startled
around. Haruka stifled laughter in a fist. There was the entire swimming team standing
somewhere behind his back, radiating a dangerous vibe even in their plain school uniforms.
Yet being bored was all that concerned this fool.
Rin tore his eyes away, frowned, and pushed off the wall with a confused expression, and the
floating lightness disappeared. Haruka leaned forward to see through the sweating crowd and
watched Tatano’s back withdrawing behind Rin’s wide shoulders through the main gate. The
man’s eyes scanned the assembly, unable to catch the sound of Haruka’s heart stammer.
...The School Spring Festival is now considered open. Please take this event as time to recall
Saturday's disaster and work together with cooperation that is necessary in any time of need.
Now, a minute of silence shall be observed for victims of...
Haruka kept his hands in fists for the rest of the speeches. One hour and thirty seven minutes
later with officialities done and waiting endless, it was beyond bearable. The moment Rin re-
entered the room Haruka was on his way, lifting the counter of the swimming-team booth
briskly. If it startled Nagisa and Rei with the sudden motion, so be it—he needed a break
anyway. Glaring at anyone who dared to approach the counter hardly counted as ‘working the
booth’.
"Jeez, the wasp queen again," Nagisa hissed when Haruka hesitated at the sight of a familiar
face that materialized at Rin’s side. "Would it kill her to stay in the nest for once?"
"I guess she needs to practice stabbing." Rei pushed his glasses up under Haruka’s amused
eyes.
Nagisa hummed. "There must be something that would keep her in, though. You know I
would get stabbed for you, Haru-chan. Anytime. I’m sure it’d count as a sacrifice for society,
anyway."
"I’m sorry to disappoint you," Rei said, "But wasps don’t die upon stabbing. That is bees’
nature."
"Oh, damn."
Haruka caught both his friends in an embrace. "Thank you."
"No need to do that. This aversion is quite personal," Rei quipped.
Haruka pushed down a smile, and Anna was still talking when he approached—angelic being
in a short white dress that would torture the soul out of him, had she the slightest chance.
Standing close to Rin she extended her hand to touch the hairy skin of his forearm and didn’t
care about Haruka seeing. Or maybe she, very much so, did.
"Baby," Haruka said to their turned-away backs—a quiet word within the clamour of the
festival. He might just as well have shot a bullet into the space between them, her suddenly
ashen face and Rin blinking in surprise. "Do you have a minute?"
Rin hid a grin behind his fist. "Sure do."
Haruka waited. "In private," he said when Anna only gaped.
"Excuse me," she said icily, and visibly swayed with something like nausea. "But I’m going
to have to throw up."
"Down the corridor, second door on the right," Haruka said, keeping his face straight. When
Anna’s eyebrows shot higher than the flags on the dais, he knew this was Yamazaki’s
friendship rubbing off on him, and never felt more grateful.
For a moment he was sure she was going to choke him on the freshly installed gym vinyl
flooring. Rin rolled his eyes and muttered something about catching up later, and Rei, and a
literature booth, all of which would take her far enough to spare Haruka’s life. By the time
his heart beat thrice she had vanished to haunt some other hell, yet her eyes pierced him
through long after.
Rin lips were quirked. "Wasn’t that nasty?"
"I can’t help it. She brings it out of me."
"Can’t you try being nice once in a while? For me?" Rin smiled.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On what you’re willing to pay for it."
Rin laughed, face flushed. "Why does every conversation with you ends this way? Don’t you
mind that they are watching us?" Haruka felt it on his skin like the air that blew in from the
open window—the promise of a downpour sometime soon. The way they were stared at.
Watched together, their every motion and expression evaluated. "I feel like a rock star with
all the attention on me."
Haruka shuddered. "We probably shouldn’t—"
"I want to kiss you."
"Yes," Haruka hissed, pushing his excitement down. "I’m sure the whole school would enjoy
that.”
"I could make it look like I’m forcing you. Poor straight guy—didn’t have a chance against
big bad gay," Rin said, eyes twinkling.
"Don’t make fun of it."
"Should I cry, then?"
Haruka sighed. "What did you talk about with Tatano?"
"Well you know, this and that. About you, mostly."
"Me?"
"Yes. About how exceptional a swimmer you are, and how I’m standing in your way, mostly.
Nothing I didn’t expect."
"Rin," Haruka started, and found himself at a loss.
Rin shrugged it off, eyes on the stage."Nah, it’s fine. Really. I know that this is important for
you, this Championship. And you know just as well as them that this is about you. They don’t
give a damn about me as long as I’m somehow making you swim better. I don’t care, Haru."
He looked at Haruka. "I love you. If they think me being there helps, then I will. I just will."
"That’s," Haruka managed, thinking of Tatano and the things that must have fallen from the
man’s mouth, about the way Rin’s body language was resigned, sad. "What… what did he
say exactly?"
"He said I must be there for you, not slacking. Not skip trainings and stuff. There’s barely
two weeks of training until our taper starts and you need your head in the game." Rin sighed,
giving a small frown that Haruka didn’t believe was the school band’s miserable
performance’s fault. "I told him I’ll work three times more if it counts."
"You’re already doing enough."
"Am I?"
"Yes. You’ve been running from work to trainings and back with little sleep already. What
more do you want to do?"
"Anything. For you—anything." Rin looked at him—the shining star that always had to be
first to be satisfied. A racer. Always a winner. One that had lost his path once in Sydney,
dragged too far from his dream. Desperate to swim again; he had wanted this, wanted it for
himself. And yet he was honest standing here, delusioning that none of it mattered. "It’s not
like I’ll spend life flipping burgers." Rin smiled. "I’m kind of smart, you know?"
Haruka wanted to punch him. "You," he said, "are unbelievable." His fingers grazed Rin’s
own, hidden in the thick crowd. "Do you—do you think I’d date less than the best?"
"And if I’m not? If I turn out lesser in the end?" Rin asked. "What then?"
"You won’t. You are the best."
"But—"
"You are. For me you’ll always be." Haruka didn’t know where all the confidence Rin used to
win races with had come from; where it had all gone. How deep he had to dig for it. "I don’t
care what anybody says. What you think. In my eyes there is no better."
"Haru." Rin choked. The fool—it was pissing Haruka off. He would rather exhaust himself
worrying about not being good enough than keep his mind straight. It was him lacking
balance that had been what kept him from the top.
"Next time you worry too much—talk to me. And don’t listen to what they say. I know more
about swimming than they could ever read from their books."
"I—" Rin started, but Haruka didn’t listen. With force he shook off a hand that landed on his
shoulder.
"Hey, Batman and his Robin. Enjoying the show? Pretty bad, huh?" The voice laughed, and
Haruka would know the smell of chlorine mixed with god-awful, cheap cologne in the
deepest hell. Hagino grinned between them—a hungry shark. "We’ve been looking for you
every-which-where."
"Great."
Rin didn’t looked frightened when the small crowd of swimmers gathered around them,
pushing unfortunate students aside with arrogance. This was a public place, and Rin knew
little of how dangerous they really were; he hadn’t been there when Hagino had made his
little threatening performance. But Haruka had been.
"We’re about to clear out," Hagino said, spitting a little on Haruka’s cheek. "But join us for a
goukon later tonight? Only the prettiest girls, of course. Nothing less for The Princesses, you
know." Haruka shuddered with disgust, feeling the gaze of the black eyes slowly,
calculatingly turning to Rin’s side. "Just for the record, the invitation doesn’t extend to you."
"Wouldn’t dream about it," Rin said.
"What would you do there anyway?"
"Yes. What?" Rin asked, and Haruka felt something snap inside him.
"Aww, touchy, touchy. You jealous Nanase would find happiness between other legs tonight?
You know he’s not into your kind. Isn’t it sad? A poor homo ends all alone, in the end. Our
freaky little fag."
"Haru," Rin hissed the second Haruka’s hand curled around Hagino’s throat and squeezed.
Long fingers grabbed the fabric on his forearm, as if it could have stopped anything. "What
are you doing? That’s just what they want."
Hell yes. But it felt good. So good to enjoy the way Hagino’s hand shot up to steady himself;
the fear that swapped the joy of getting what he came here for. How shocked the idiot was,
coming from where he didn’t expect it. In this shared moment Hagino understood that if this
was a lonely, night-lit alley, he would be enjoying the moonlight for the very last time. Those
tendons felt amazingly fragile under Haruka’s fingers as he squeezed experimentally.
"Just a joke, man." Hagino’s friend stepped in, hand around Haruka’s wrist. "Just a joke,
okay? Let him be. Come on," he pleaded. "Please. He didn’t mean harm."
The school was not an alley, though, and was not vacant. It was a prison where the crowd
could part on a cue and reveal to show a darkly frowning Hirai with his entourage. Haruka’s
eyes snapped back to Hagino, and found exactly what he knew would be there—a flicker of
victory.
"Oh, you damned brat," Haruka spat.

"For Christ’s sake, Haru, let him go. You’re making this worse," Rin cried, but Haruka’s
fingers were already loosening up. "It’s not worth it."
"Can’t recognize a joke? Get your head checked," Hagino said, and with badly concealed
grins the whole lot of them was gone, merging with the festive crowd.
"Oh, god, what a mess." Rin looked exhausted. "I… I better find Anna. Yeah. She asked me
to take her home afterwards."
Haruka hesitated. "The festival’s only started. Will you come back?"
"Yeah... actually, it’d be better if we let the drama settle. See you later, okay? At the dinner."
"Uh." Haruka closed his mouth again. "Can I stay tonight? At your place? I’d really like to
stay with you." He faltered at Rin’s expression. "Well, go. Go already, if you must."
"Fine. We’ll see about that later, okay? I might be working night shift tonight."
Haruka smiled weakly. "Of course."
He stood there in the crowd, realizing too late Rin left him to work the booth all alone. He
was shaking. Hagino was still close enough—he could easily make those several steps and
end both their careers for real. Fermented from the fear, it sprung out like a hot spring from
the ground. With every word that Hagino called Rin—to hurt, to shame, it was getting worse.
A butterfly-like flutter of heart, he never felt such hate for anyone.
‘Dolphin? Is everything alright?’ came from the other side of the phone, the only person he
could think of to stop this from happening. He could not muster a sound.
***
The view was splendid from the glass-wall on the second floor. The thick forestry outside
made the restaurant feel as if it was built in the middle of nothing; not in the bowels of a city,
just conveniently hidden from the tourists flooding the park. It wasn’t a fancy, sterile place
like the one where Haruka had met Anna for the first time. Yet it must have had a name good
enough for the gaudy, conceited presence of old Kawasaki and the likes.
"Kawasaki-san," Haruka’s mother chirped. "I’m so very thankful you found time for us all to
spend together. Anna told me you are leaving for Seoul later tonight."
"Indeed I am. She was right." The low, pretentious voice carried on, and Haruka glanced
around the polished, quiet supremacy of customers sitting at the tables—politicians,
businessmen, and such. He felt out of place in his jeans. "Also, quite similarly, I heard from
her that your birthday is going to be soon, and what was on your mind for the occasion."
"Oh, did you?"

The old man laughed "Yes. It appears, patently, that my daughter has only two talents—to use
her mouth and my money. Rarely for good cause."
Anna paled. "Father."
"Well, darling. My bank account agrees with me." Kawasaki gave a little deprecating smile.
"If you invested as much energy into work as you do into shopping, Anabelle, you would
have had that book you keep talking about written months ago. Then I wouldn’t be forced to
avoid that very good publisher friend of mine, who I had contacted regarding a draft that will
never see the world’s light. What a shame. He has influential acquaintances I could make use
of."
"I never asked for your help! I can make it on my own."
"Oh, can you? Interesting..."
Haruka closed his eyes just so, pretended the greenery outside was all there was, that the tall
buildings in the background weren’t really there—just like people in the restaurant. In his
mind the table disappeared between him and Rin, who had been polite and smiling just the
right amount throughout the conversation. Rin, whose eyes didn’t meet his until now.
"It’s clear who that girl has taken after," Sousuke muttered into Haruka’s ear. "Old man’s a
ray of sunshine, too."
"May I know what you two find so amusing?" Anna asked into the silence of the table as his
mother and Kawasaki left to meet an acquaintance.
"I’d like to know, too." Rin stirred his appetizer with sticks.
"You wouldn’t find it funny."
"Indulge me," Anna invited.
Yamazaki ignored her, nodding at Rin instead. "So… What’s the plan? Has she already come
up with the idea that she can be a beard for you?" He laughed at the expressions around the
table. "Thought so. Don’t sweat it. That’s not going to work."
Rin bristled. "I wondered what you were doing here today. Should have known it was to
meddle."
"I was invited. What are you doing here?"
"Whatever made you think this is your problem, you’re wrong," Rin said, and met Haruka’s
eyes with a glimpse of anger. "If it even is a problem, then it’s mine and Haru’s."
"You revealed yourself in the most homophobic environment in the country beside the
catholic church, you’re being mocked and threatened and it’s not my problem? Is it not my
problem? I thought you’d know better than to push your tongue down Nanase’s throat in a
public place."
Anna fanned herself with a wine menu. "God, it’s always such a treat to dine with the three of
you."
"I don’t have to apologize to you," Rin spat.
"This isn’t funny." Yamazaki leaned on the table. "It isn’t something you should take lightly.
You know I’ve been in a similar position in college. I might know what to do, or how to stop
it before it escalates. I can help fix it."
"No one cares for your fixing. Just give us a break."
Yamazaki shifted his weight on the floor cushion, as if he couldn’t stand the words
physically. "I know it’s the first time for you to be with a guy, Rin, but there’s no place for
mistakes. Not with a person you cherish this much. Someone might get hurt. You might get
hurt."
Rin thought about it. "I’m not going to discuss this with you."
"Why not?"
Rin didn’t answer. Yamazaki shook his head, his lips a hard line. "I just… This is an
important time for you. I want you to be safe. I want you to feel safe."
"You’re doing marvellous job at that."
"Whatever that means." Yamazaki stood up. "Let me tell you something. Outside. It’ll be just
a minute.”
“Please," he added when Rin didn’t move.
Haruka’s hand lifted just in time to fall perfectly into Rin’s palm when he passed by on the
way out, as if on cue, as if it was rehearsed rather than chance. In perfect sync he squeezed
long fingers when other hand ruffled his hair. A clear message—he was not the one to blame.
"Are you alright?" he asked, uncomfortable by Anna staring at his now empty hand on the
table. There were no marks of ownership that Rin left over it, but maybe she saw their ghosts.
"I didn’t peg you for Whitman. You, of all." She licked her lips, a soundless tick. "How was it
—I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes. These are the days that
must happen to you. You shall not heap up what is called riches, you shall scatter with lavish
hand all that you earn or achieve." Her voice floated clear and flawless along the words. It
had become second nature for him to understand that language. It was second nature for her
to make all of the hair on his body stand. "We learned the poem in our fourth year of
elementary school. In French. In English even earlier. Now you, who can barely read or
write, you had to spoil it for me for the rest of my life."
A thin paper book moved from the place under her plate where she must have had it hidden
all throughout the dinner. Her pointer finger pushed it right under Haruka’s nose and left it
there—a soldier retreating from the battlefield. Haruka didn’t have to look at the characters of
his own name, his English teacher did enough to make it stand out.
"So in the end you’re smart enough to make fun of us."
"I’m not making fun of anyone."
"I wonder if Rin would think the same. Isn’t being a fool what he hates the most?"
"You..."
Anna laughed. "Don’t be mistaken. I keep my word—despite what you think of me. I won’t
say anything against you." She smiled. "After all, why would I? You’re doing all the work
yourself. And I... I’ll just sit and wait."
"You really think he’ll go back to you?"
"I’m sure of it. He must—one day he’s going to realize who you really are, and how you’re
not worth the fuss."
Haruka pitied her: her wide eyes, crazy glint in them, quiver in her hands. "No one should be
this desperate." He stood up. "Nothing I say will convince you, so I’ll just let it be."
"You’re not decent enough—what is that about?" She joined Haruka at the wooden banister
of the staircase and stared down with him to the small, gravel parking lot. She laughed at the
sight of Yamazaki’s hand shooting to his best friend’s neck. "Now, imagine him being in
Sydney instead. Surrounded by friends who love him to death. Happy. Safe."
"One of these days, you’ll shut up," Haruka muttered under his breath and flew down the
stairs in a haze, heart aflutter. Yamazaki’s hands released the fabric of Rin’s shirt the very
moment soles of Haruka’s shoes crunched on the gravel. It took him a moment before he got
Rin’s clawing fingers off his own clothes.
"What the hell’s going on?" Haruka asked Yamazaki who stumbled to him, necktie askew.
"What did I just tell you?" Rin barked, startling them both. "Stay away."
"Alright. Alright, I’m gone," Yamazaki growled, muttering a curse as he bent to grab his
dust-covered jacket from the ground. "Just remember my words when it happens."
"I can protect us."
"I sure hope so. So he won’t have to run to me like he always does." Yamazaki wiped on his
broken lip. "Who knows why that is."
"Get the fuck out of here."
Yamazaki walked away into the fog that gathered under the trees of the park—Rin’s best
friend, once upon a time, once before some of them screwed it all. Rin raked his hair, and
when a golden spark came to life in front of his face Haruka looked up to the puffs of smoke
that flew towards the sky hugged by trees’ crowns.
"He’s got his eyes on you."

"What?" Haruka tried to reign his anger.
"I can tell, he’s so easy to read. With those big doggy eyes on you everywhere you move. He
doesn’t have to say a thing, I know." Haruka coughed at the bitter smoke in his throat. "And
he wants to preach to me, arsehole. As if I don’t know how to care about my own boy. Mine,
not his. Fucker."
Haruka blinked. "He’s a friend."
"You’re not exactly helping by calling him, inviting him everywhere, either. You’re stirring
him on."
"Stirring—are you serious? He is a friend—yours, mine. Ours."
"Is that what he is to you? Just a friend?" An intake of smoke, and a hand caught Haruka
when he was walking down the gravel path, away from this. "Hey. Hey, come on." In an
instant, Rin was panicking. "I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t want to imply... It’s just…
God, I’m sorry. Okay? It’s not about you. Just stay away from him. He’s not a good person."
"Said who? Her?"
"The food has arrived," said the subject of the conversation from across the pavement.
Haruka laughed. "Fitting."
"We should go back." Rin despaired when Haruka refused to lace their fingers.
"No. I’m not hungry anymore."
"Let me take my things. I’ll take you home."
"No need to."
"Your mother’s in there," Anna said, voice freezing.
Haruka gritted his teeth—he needed to get away. Get miles from them for a moment, just let
them be alone, in a completely childish fashion, so she could try her luck.
"I’ll call her a taxi," Rin smiled sadly, but Haruka couldn’t have his cheek stroked now.
"Thanks."
"See you at the pool tomorrow? I’m working tonight, after all."
“How else.” Haruka laughed.
"Be careful, Haru. I love you very much. See you.”
The smell of earthworms dying on the concrete pavement burned Haruka’s nostrils as he
walked away. The thick foliage above watched him as he took the longer route to the subway
station. A thousand green eyes waited for him to find an answer to why loving someone
meant fighting the whole world, fighting his own head, fighting every day.
They watched him when he turned at the sound of running steps behind. When the first blow
came out of nowhere, knocking him down to his knees; the second, putting his cheek into the
mud, mixing it with his blood. There were no tourists in the secluded, lone part of this old
park that he had decided to walk through, not in the late afternoon.
Someone cursed above him—it was hard to tell through the pain and ringing in his ears. A
man that Haruka had never seen before dragged him by his ankles behind the aluminium
fence of what looked like an abandoned heating plant building, then said, "He’s in, mister.
Have your way." Haruka moaned, trying to turn to his side.
"Oi oi oi oi oi," Chang sing-songed, straddling Haruka’s chest, and ignored his attempt to get
free by simply pushing a gun that Haruka had never seen in his hands—in anyone’s hands—
into the soft tissue under his jaw. "You know what this is, don’t you?"
The man was sweating hard as he pulled a stack of papers from the inner pocket of his
pristine suit jacket and swayed them above Haruka’s face. Haruka kept his eyes shut. Gelled
hair fell down as he bent over Haruka’s madly breathing form.
"Oh, come on, you can do better than this." The English words in Haruka’s own handwriting
flew around his universe, blending with the green leaves above. It was the original festival
folder, stolen from his teacher’s office. "Not smart, kiddo. Not smart. For months we’ve been
trying to figure out how your daddy’s been doing it when he doesn’t know a fucking foreign
word. An accomplice? A friend? And in the end it’s you." Chang sighed. "Oh my, who would
guess it’d be me lucky enough to find the right man. Of all the people. You really couldn’t
make it an easy job, could you?" Chang turned to the other man. "Hachi, finish it. I can’t do
this. Jesus, he’s just a kid. I really kind of liked him."
Haruka wished it was autumn already, so these leaves wouldn’t be there watching. They
would be falling to the ground, just like white pages fell from the sky, Rin’s name from his
lips, hurting fists on his face. The distant sound of his own name soon faded away...
Chapter 16
Chapter Notes
Happy New Year, guys!
Okay, I'm more than just a little hung-over, so this note is going to be very short. Here
we go with yet another chapter, just as I promised. It was edited as always by amazing
marbled_maven, so all credit for this being intelligible goes to her. THANK YOU FOR
BEING SO AWESOME.
Also, I most humbly bring your attention to another fic that I wrote about a year ago, it's
called That one time, and it's not from Gone with the water universe. It's a short story
that you might enjoy if you have too much time on your hands or something, I don't
know. You don't have to read it at all, haha.
I'll better shut up now, my head hurts like hell anyway, so let's get to business. Enjoy,
guys, and please comment if you feel like it! Love you all!
Dark had fallen before he was allowed to go. Lights of the city smeared the night behind the
hospital window like the haze that Haruka couldn't fight off of his brain. Not at such a late
hour, with all the pills they had made him take.
"You will be just fine, Nanase-kun. Take it easy for a week or two, though," the doctor said.
Short black spikes of her hair framed her face as she leaned down to examine the bandages
wrapped around his torso. Haruka hissed at the pain. "Luckily there wasn't an internal
hemorrhage, but the swelling might take several days to subside, and the area will certainly
be sensitive for a long time. Remember that your liver was spared by an inch. You also only
barely slipped from having a concussion, so don't take my words lightly. I left you a
prescription for pain medications at the nurses' counter, but since they are quite strong, I
cannot give you more than a three days' dose. Should you need more, contact my office
anytime. Do you understand?"
Haruka nodded stiffly. The sound of distant conversations, phones ringing, and beeping of
medical machines flooded the room when the door opened. Yamazaki's eyes were on him at
once, dark and unreadable, as he shut it silently behind him. His hands were washed clean,
but the blood on his shirt could hardly be dealt with in the hospital bathroom: the blood of a
barely conscious Haruka that Yamazaki had carried all the way to the closest road where the
ambulance had taken over.
The doctor rose and left with a professional smile, several medical orders and advices, and
Haruka was grateful for the doctor's detachment. At least someone appeared reasonable,
when his own head was floating.
"It's not as bad as it looked before," Yamazaki said quietly, but Haruka still flinched, like he
did at every sound. A big hand hesitated, and then brushed over one of the band aids on
Haruka's brow. "I thought it would be worse."
Yamazaki's voice was hoarse, and it didn't help, not at all, to pretend that everything was fine.
The blood on his shirt created a pattern—a butterfly, maybe, or a gun.
Haruka scooted over to get off the examination table, slowly, carefully—trying not to moan
at the ghosts of boots dancing over his ribs. "The doctor said the head bleeds the worst.
They’re just scratches," he said, fighting off dizziness.
Yamazaki hummed, unconvinced. But he didn't offer a hand to help Haruka move around the
room, didn't comment on the impossibly long time it took Haruka to gather his things. As if
he knew, as if he wanted to reach out, but something told him it wouldn't be appreciated.
"Are we good to go?" Yamazaki shook his car keys in the air.
Haruka hesitated. "You don't have to."
"I know that. Come on."
Haruka muttered a 'thank you', looking one last time over the hospital room and when it
couldn't be postponed any longer, at Yamazaki waiting in the doorway. "It's nice of you…
everything. You didn't have to stay here."
Yamazaki smiled, somehow weird. "Lucky for you, I'm a big softie."
His hand was wrapped around Haruka's waist when the hospital door closed behind them,
holding gently to keep from hurting his side. An ambulance pulled to the emergency entrance
and dripped the night with drops of blue and red. And when Haruka moved to lean away, he
found the strong arm only pulled him closer, unwilling to let go.
It wasn't until after they walked through the darkened hospital car park and he was standing
next to Yamazaki's old car with something like a rock in his stomach that someone cleared
their throat, so close as if they were breathing right behind his back. Yesterday's fear tasted
like bile again.
"How are you doing, kiddo?"
Turning around with a stopped heart, Haruka looked into the half-drawn window of a car,
parked next to Yamazaki's own. It was dark inside. Certain to find Chang's face even in his
dreams from now on, it still startled him when it slowly moved into the ray of a street lamp.
"What the fuck?" Yamazaki was in front of Haruka faster than lightning, the thunder of his
grip on the SUV's door handle trying to wrench it open. It wasn’t surprising it was safely
locked. "It's you. Open the door. Open the fucking door!"
"Easy, big friend."
"Don't think I didn't see you jumping into this very car yesterday. You fucking coward. Isn't it
easy to hide in there? Get out, freaking worm!" Yamazaki's hands tried to wrestle the window
open before it drew almost all the way up and nearly cut his fingers off.
"Oh, try better, will you?" Chang chuckled, unfazed—to get inside the car was impossible. It
was likely armored and indestructible by a far stronger power than human hands. His eyes
studied Haruka's face. "So… You're not looking that bad, kiddo… considering. I thought it
would be much worse. You're a tough one."
"Don't talk to him." Yamazaki's breath was too hot on Haruka's face. "Are you alright? Are
you going to be sick?"
"I..." Haruka swayed on his legs. The pain throbbed like a knife twisting in his side, and he
felt it flicker through his features—the fear, the confusion.
"You don't have to be afraid." Chang hesitated. "You know, I wasn't terribly happy about it,
either. A job is a job, though. I'm not the one who gives out orders. I don't have to like what
I'm told to do, but that's where it ends. You don't get a conscience clause in this kind of
work."
"Come, Haru." Yamazaki pulled on his arm. "We have to go. We have to find someone."
"No." Haruka broke free. "You go without me." He gripped the SUV's handle. "Open the
door."
"What? Are you insane?" Yamazaki asked and was right. They were two unarmed men in the
far end of a parking lot, they could just as well be naked; there was no one who would answer
their call for help. "Like hell I'm letting you inside that car."
"You don't get to let me do anything."
"Dolphin," Yamazaki pleaded when Haruka pulled his big hands from his face.
"I'll be alright. Go. He won't hurt me."
"But..." Black hair ruffled, Yamazaki seemed too lost for such a big man. Like a small child
ready to start a war, set the world aflame, tear apart anyone who tried to touch his toy.
The tick of a lock signaled that the car door opened, and Haruka walked on legs that were far
too wobbly to the other side and got inside without a pause.
"How do you know I won't hurt you?" Chang watched Yamazaki stride through the car park,
throwing looks their way.
Haruka looked at the gun resting on the polished black-coloured dashboard. He felt his heart
beating wildly against his ribcage like a small, dying bird. It was too easy to remember the
feeling of having the cold metal pressed against his neck, the fists of the man called Hachi
deep in his body, the pain that came afterwards.
"You wouldn't hide in your car, if you weren't on your own."
Chang laughed. "But I still could start the car and take you wherever I wanted."
"You could," Haruka agreed, glad he had sent Yamazaki away. He couldn't afford to need him
like in the days when he thought Rin was gone for good, couldn't use him as an anchor when
there was a possibility that Rin was right about his feelings. "And you already would have, if
anyone knew you were here."
"Well, I'm not working tonight, so I suppose you're right." Chang stared through the window.
"You realize he went to call the police. I don't have much time."
"What do you want?"
"The right question is what it is that you can give."
Haruka watched the street light dancing over Chang's face. What it was that he could give to
the man that he had seen three times in his life; twice of it laying on the floor, fighting for his
life. The man who never really said why he had been bothering him, or what it was he did for
a living. If, of course, one didn't take threatening and beating people for a proper occupation.
Chang looked at him, eyes hard. "Give me your father and I'll make them leave you be. That
is what you want, after all. It doesn't really matter who gets to him first, you must understand
that. Let me be the one, and you'll never hear of us again." The fabric of his flawless suit
crumpled as he gripped the steering wheel. "Too many people out there want him dead,
kiddo. There's no way out of it for your daddy, but there might be for you. I'll make sure of
it."
"Why would you?"
"Why would I what? Go behind my boss' back?" Chang smiled. "Disobey his order to dispose
of you?" He laughed. "Don't be a fool. Of course he knows about this. He's a straightforward,
proud man and he plays no games to get what he wants—on the surface, for his people.
Sometimes he considers my roundabout ways more effective. I'm here with his silent consent
to make agreement with you."
"I—I don't know where he is." Haruka faltered. "I haven't talked to him in years."
"That's very hard to believe, considering you're the only person in his immediate
surroundings with the ability to provide him with communication abroad—except for your
mother, but we're quite sure she wouldn't be interested in helping someone who discarded of
her like that. But let's say I do trust you. So what will we make of it?" Chang pulled a gold
business card out of his pocket. He looked exhausted beyond his age. "There's a number on
the other side. It's my private line. Anytime he calls you, shows up, or sends you a birthday
card, you call me at once.
"Don't disappoint me, kiddo. Don't play my oyabum, powerful men are not always
reasonable. Next time it might not be me and Hachi. Others don't listen to me like the boy
does. Others might not stop before you're dead. And you know, next time they might not wait
until you're all alone." The sound of the door unlocking meant that the conversation was over.
"Come on. I need to leave before your friend returns."
"You. The police are going to be here any second." Yamazaki snarled, pushing in front of
Haruka once he was standing on the concrete of the car park again, shakily pointing an iron
pipe that he must have found laying around somewhere into the vehicle. "Don't show your
face around again if you don't want to end up dead."
A corner of Chang's lips curled up. "I like your friend. Protective. How unfortunate he has no
clue who he's dealing with."
The window smoothly closed then, the engine of the silver SUV roared with power, and
Haruka stared after it as it smoothly pulled from the lot. He should have said a 'no', clear and
loud. Ignore the stirring inside upon the chance that Chang had offered—a wanting buried
under the layers of Haruka's hard-learned calmness, something deep all the way down to the
years of disappointment, loneliness—vengeance for a mother stolen from his childhood. All
by the man that called himself his father, but never really was. Never tried to be.
"What was that about?" Yamazaki asked after waiting at the fourth endless red light without
uttering a single word.
"Nothing."
"Dammit!" Yamazaki hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and winced with his
never-really-leaving shoulder ache. "I knew it, I knew you were going to say that. Just...
why? Why didn't you tell anything to the police? Why do you protect that man? What's the
matter? What is happening to you?"
The city moved behind the car window. "It's nothing you should worry about."
"But… You don't have to bear it all alone. I'm here... don't you see? Why don't you talk to
me? Why didn't anyone from your family come to pick you up from the hospital? Did you
even let anyone know what happened to you? And where is Rin now?"
Haruka thought of Rin, of his sweet smile—a crystal of a memory. "He has enough as it is."
"You think he wouldn't want to know? Whatever it is that bothers you?" Yamazaki shook his
head. "He loves you with this crazy, movie-like love. Don't tell me you don't know, because
—have you seen something like that happen in real life before? You two are straight from a
shoujo manga."
A small smile tugged at Haruka's lips. "I finally have him. After so long… Nothing's going to
spoil it. I won't allow it."
"I can never quite figure your logic."
"No one really blames you." Haruka chuckled.
The secure walls of the car were nice, being an independent grown-up was, too. A street had
to be crossed to get to the front door of his home, though. Shadows loomed behind every
corner, darkened windows, green fences. He didn't have to fear, Chang wasn't going to appear
any second, he knew, not even Hachi with his fists. He couldn't help it if his body longed for
Rin's arms that would be like a steel case around him. If only Rin wasn't working the night
shift tonight. If only Rin was here.
"Let me—I can park over there around the corner, pick you up before I go to work. My car's
old, no one's going to notice it." Yamazaki looked guilty: they both knew he was talking
about Rin. "I start in the office at nine in the morning. There's plenty of time, I guess. I... it'll
be just to give you a lift to school and then back again. And trainings. Or whatever you need
to do."
Haruka looked down to his blood-stained knee. "That's not a good idea."
"Just think about it."
"No, thank you."
"You won't be a bother, if that's what concerns you."
Haruka shook his head. "It won't do any good, and you know it."
Haruka watched Yamazaki get out of the car and walk around to help him slowly, carefully
out. Music poured quietly from the car's metallic bowels, like a third soul present on the
night-abandoned street.
"Can I embrace you?" The words were almost shy. Haruka's arms went around the middle of
a strong body and patted the wide back—he was so very grateful for having had his life saved
tonight, for having not to be alone through all that, but also sore, tired, and not at all inclined
to be crushed in a hug so fierce it sent a spark of pain through his side. "For a moment... For a
moment I really thought you were dead, laying there," Yamazaki rasped into Haruka's hair,
burying his nose into it. "I thought I wouldn't see you again. That I wouldn't get to hear your
voice. Oh, god." He let go the moment Haruka tried to ease from the grip. "I overstepped. I'm
sorry. I… I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just… just glad you're alright."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"Because if you..." Haruka faltered. "If what you said before… about those feelings you have
—"
"No." Yamazaki's face was tense. "Not at all. Believe me."
"If anything's changed—"
"I said it's nothing like that," Yamazaki snapped. He smirked when Haruka frowned. "Don't
be so conceited, Dolphin. Not everybody must be in love with you. It's enough you ruined my
friendship with my best friend, don't think I'd let you ruin me, too."
"I didn't—" Haruka objected before realizing he was being teased. "Will you ever stop calling
me Dolphin?"
"I will. The day you start calling me Sousuke."
Haruka grinned. "So, never is it."
"Ah, and here I thought you were the clever one."
"I don't negotiate with terrorists. Now go, I need to sleep."
Yamazaki looked disappointed. "Call me if anything happens. Will you? Will you call?"
"Yes."
"But really? I mean it. Whatever happens—"
"I will, for crying out loud." Haruka rolled his eyes. Whoever this man was, Haruka thought
as he watched Yamazaki open the door to his car, he was a good person. "Thank you. Really,
thank you very much. And I'm sorry."
"Well," Yamazaki said, at last, "let's hope Rin will be reasonable and see it as it is—that we're
nothing but friends." The darkness of the night hid whatever face he was making. "That's
what we are, right?"
"Yeah."
"Goodnight. Sleep well."
Haruka thought of Anna as he walked up the stairs of his buildings, of the jealousy that had
little to do with reason, of the way you could do little to tame it with your will. It grew into
you—a disease of the heart, of the mind, even soul. He knew the feeling very well.
***
The music was disastrous. Hitotsuya was a quiet, residential district on a regular day, filled
occasionally with sounds of convenience stores' doors opening and children driving their
bicycles around. Not tonight.
To the party goers who were playing dreadful 80's golden disco hits with their windows wide
open at three o'clock, Haruka was grateful. At times he pondered that a drilling machine
through his skull would be a fairly gentler way to stop thinking, yes, but he didn't come to the
rooftop to enjoy music. He moved lower on the old screeching sunbed, snuggled deeper into
Rin's hoodie, and hoped that sleep would come earlier than the first morning light.
Something moved in the dark, quick and quiet, and he thought with a start that he should
have stayed down in Makoto's room. He should have dealt with Nagisa's snoring and
suffocated in the stale air of the way-too-small room rather than choking on his own fear.
"Hah." Rin barked a laugh, materializing from the dark. "You look like you just saw a
ghost."
Haruka shut his eyes, letting his back against the sunbed with a huff. "I might have."
"What are you doing here? Stargazing?"
"Smog-gazing, more like." A soft chuckle was a gift Haruka didn't expect to get tonight, and
the warmth of it spread through his still running heart like hot tea. "Did Nagisa send you up
here?"
"Yep. Scoot over." Rin nudged him gently and then there was heat against his back—a
testament to this not being a dream. He rested his weight against the body behind him and
leaned for a kiss without a second thought. It lingered on his lips tender and cautious. "You're
not still angry with me, are you?" Haruka shook his head. "Thank god. I was thinking weird
things when you weren't picking up. What were you up to?"
"I was busy. Shouldn't you be working tonight? You said we wouldn't see each other before
training tomorrow."
"I missed you." The arms around him gripped at the hoodie he was wearing and shifted its
fabric against the bandages underneath. "And it somehow turns out I don't have a place to
work anymore." He cringed when Haruka snapped his head around. "Yeah, I bloody hoped
you weren’t asleep now. I didn't know whose ass I would kick before you talked me out of it
first." Rin raked his hair—a nervous tick. "They came around midnight, a couple of them.
Made some ruckus, I'll tell you. They hollered my name over and over again so no one
doubted they're my kin. Then tried to start a fight with some other guys in the diner."
"You mean they, like..."
"Yes, Hagino's dumb puppets. He wasn't there, though—his majesty can't be connected to me
in any way." Rin nodded, pulling Haruka's back flat against his chest. He buried his face into
the crook of Haruka's neck as if that could solve all the problems of the world. "Nothing
really happened after that. The security had them thrown out, I apologized—as if I had
something to do with it—and the manager fired me on the spot. Told you he didn't like me
from the start."
"But—" Haruka wavered. "How did they even know where you worked?"
"I don't know—does it even matter? What matters is that I need to find something else soon,
real soon, life here's killing my savings. You don't happen to know any no-qualified job for
someone who can do nothing beside… well, nothing." Rin laughed humorlessly. "And it
better be somewhere where they won't mind me only working for a few days before I
disappear to Qatar for a week, jesus. Count in running off to any random training that might
come up in Hirai's head at any moment—and it will happen, you know the man."
Haruka licked his lips, furiously thinking. "I'll lend you whatever you need. How much?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Granted, I don't have much saved. But together we should manage for two or three months.
It's just for now, you can give it back anytime—"
"Enough about that. Oh." Rin perked up suddenly, and to Haruka's shock pulled himself up
just as a new, distantly familiar song echoed against the street's walls. "Is this Sting? I think
it's Sting. Come on."
"What's Sting? What are we doing?" Haruka asked, too occupied by the sudden pain to
realize he was on his feet, too. The grin on Rin's face was wry as he pushed their bodies
gently together.
"What do you think it is?"
Haruka smiled. "I've never danced. With somebody, I mean."
"No?" Rin asked, something crossing his eyes. "I think you did. I saw you with my own
eyes."
The memory of Yamazaki's hands holding onto his waist in the crazily lit dance club flooded
Haruka's mind. "I thought you weren't looking."
Rin's eyes were suddenly ablaze. "What's that?"
"What?" Haruka's hand shot up to his patched-up face. "Oh, this? Nothing. Nothing serious,
just scratches."
Rin pulled him into better light. "Nothing serious, my ass," he exclaimed. "Did you get into a
fight? Don't tell me it was them, too."
"No."
"I swear, I'll tear them to pieces if they touched you. Fuck the Championship, if they landed a
single hand on you, I'll—"
"I said it wasn't them."
Rin studied him—his touch was tender on each of the little plasters. "What happened, then?"
"I..." Haruka tried, and failed. The city-center glimmered brilliantly with lit skyscrapers, far
enough, too close, and a steady heart beat soundly under his forehead where he rested it on
Rin's chest. He shook his head. "Can we—can we not talk about it, tonight? Look." He
motioned at the far lights. "Look. Isn't it pretty? The city. All these colours… I never see
them when you're not with me. I never could before you—before us. At this moment I can,
and I don't… I don't want to think of anything else."
"Haru." Rin sighed.

"Please, I'm fine. Really. I… I just want to be with you. Just you. Not anyone else. Is that too
much to ask?" He chuckled tiredly. "God, it was a horrible day."
Warm hand rested at his nape. "What do you need?"
"Dance with me." His arms snaked around a trim waist. His own legs were giving up, and
Rin must have been, too. He sought that comfort, anyway.
"I'm not a kid, you know," Rin said, soft words like sand through Haruka's fingers.
"Remember the night that we met after all those years in front of that restaurant? I expected
you to be angry, cold, I thought you were going to murder me after how I cut you off. Instead,
you stared at me like I was your most favourite thing in the world that just returned back
home to you."
"You are." Haruka breathed against Rin's lips, watching closely. "You are my most favorite
person in the world."
"You always take care of me. Always watch out for me. Worry for me. I want to do the same
for you."
"Then tell me something nice." Haruka lay his head on Rin's shoulder.
"Okay, ehm, but mind you, it's going to be embarrassing." Rin cleared his throat, thinking.
"You don't have any idea how many times I imagined you—us like this. Countless times.
Nitori would've died if he had known the cheesy things I daydreamed about all the time while
in the same room, and called it studying. Well, he called it brooding, but whatever." He
giggled, charming the world to fade away like a magician would. "Dancing, holding hands, I
rarely had courage enough to envision anything beyond that… You were so unattainable.
Untouchable. And I longed for you so much."
"I'm not untouchable for you," Haruka murmured into the softness of Rin's mouth. His lips
felt exquisitely tender under his mouth, a thousand 'I love you's so close to the surface, so
desperate to get through. Each day he felt less fortified, every kiss washed his fears like lead
and chrome away, it could be so simple—to let go, to say the words that would take him
where now he must let his tongue convey.
Rin's fingernails curled in the fabric of his own hoodie on Haruka's back, and all of a sudden,
the slow sway of their dance was too little. "No one gets to hold you but me?"
"No one."
"No one gets to dance with you but me?"
"No one. Please, don't be jealous," Haruka whispered against the tender skin of Rin's neck,
feeling the heartbeat quicken under his lips. "You don't have a reason to."
Rin shuddered. "I can't promise you that. I love you too much." The lights of the city created
a halo around his head once his back gently hit the low wall of the roof terrace and his hands
found leverage on it. "Haru." The sky above was impeccably opaque like always, but behind
them a million galaxies could watch Haruka burn tonight, a free ticket for each of them. Let
them see—all the pleasure that he wanted from the mouth that trembled as he traced its shape
with a thumb. From this body—so close. "Makoto could come looking for us, anytime. Or
Nagisa. Or, god, your mom."
"I doubt that," Haruka whispered. "Makoto's out with Jane, Misaki somewhere, and Nagisa's
clever enough to stay where he is."
"Makoto's not, oh." Rin breathed, the sound swallowed by Haruka's mouth. "With Jane." The
smell of a kitchen, stuck on sweaty skin filled Haruka's nose. He breathed in and shuddered,
realizing that Rin had not managed a shower before coming here. White-hot desire shot down
his spine. "I don't know where he is, but they're surely not together now. They—they've split
up, you didn't know?"
"Stop talking." Haruka hummed, unwilling to listen to anything that wasn't a hitch in Rin's
breathing—yes, just that there, as he did what he had always dreamed of doing during all
those nights when he lay in his bed, pumping into his fist—to feel Rin react under his touch.
Rin laughed shakily. "Haru, come on. What—what are you doing? Stop undressing me."
Haruka relented, releasing the already opened jeans' button to slowly trace the outline of
Rin's length through the fabric instead. A shivering breath escaped from the mouth next to his
once he cupped it with the flat of his palm.
"There's people." As if on cue party-goers downstairs guffawed above the music.
"I don't care."
There was always something dark, lurking behind each corner of their kissing. Like a match
too close to the stove to be safe, waiting to go aflame at the first painful grip of Rin's fingers
in Haruka's hair, at the soft whimpers that escaped them both like sins from Pandora's box.
"We shouldn't. It's not… Oh, god." The night lay heavy around when Haruka kissed his way
down the pale neck and collarbone to kneel on the uneven concrete, and Rin's hazy eyes
widened. "What are you—?" The ventilation shaft nearby hummed when the noise of the
party died out between two songs. "Haru, no. I was... I don't."
"Teach me. Teach me how." Haruka's hands trembled just like Rin's voice when they pulled
the pants down alongside the underwear. The elastic waistband wanted to submit nicely,
stretching over his fingers, but Rin's hands stopped its descent.
"No, not like this. Not here. Not this—for our first time."
"It doesn't matter."
They say that falling for some men is like falling from grace. But there was nothing holier,
nothing more sacred than taking every pain two people had and turning it into pleasure. Rin
looked ethereal, his hair dancing in June's night air around the tired lines of his face. Red
against the dark-pink sky like blood on strawberry ice-cream. Haruka died a little at the sight.
"You're so beautiful." Everything for him, he thought as he took hold of Rin's hands and
gently tore them from where they took defense. "I want to make you feel good."
It was automatic—the way Rin cursed when Haruka pushed his nose against the naked skin
and inhaled hungrily. The scent was a hundred percent man, a pure concentrate, all traces of
soap lost during hours of a long night-shift and subway travelling. He absolutely loved it.
"Please," Rin breathed, last objections lost in the throaty moan coming out of his mouth. The
planet started spinning faster, because Haruka barely kept them upright when Rin's knees
buckled under him. He pushed his weight against the wall, ignoring the pain.
It should have been familiar, the experience, for this was Rin, Rin in his mouth. It was
everything but—the way his mouth stretched, the taste, the feeling of stubble where all hair
was shaved off. It was nothing he ever expected it to be. It was better.
The harsh breathing above sped up, and he thought about how close the blood rushing
through Rin was to that of his own body. Like a wild flood Rin's heart poured beyond
Haruka's lips, bringing fire that melted age-old ice, nothing but a thin layer of skin to separate
the two.
"Come on, show me," Haruka rasped. "Show me how." A trembling hand hesitantly cupped
his head—he let himself be led.
"God, god," Rin cried brokenly, and his hips bucked to push deeper into the waiting mouth.
No one stopped him—why would they, when all Haruka wanted was to put his name in
capital letters on the silky skin moving through his lips. Then no one would ever doubt his
ownership. It was utterly silent—the street and the universe whole—when Rin gasped and
bowed forward, his fingers crushing Haruka's shoulder. As if the stage belonged to him only
—a star shinier than that of skyscrapers' lights.
"Yuck." Haruka spat what he could on the ground, face crunching. "The taste's gross."
Rin didn't laugh. Maybe it wasn't as funny as he thought—maybe there was a rulebook for
after-sex jokes. Haruka was on his feet before Rin hid the first sob behind the back of his
hand. His hand was smacked away when he reached out, and then there was only the shadow
of Rin's back turned on him. All traces of crying were wiped out before he found courage to
look up at the outline of Rin's face against the city's lights.
"What's the matter? You didn't like it?" Haruka's heart was in his throat.
"Why yes, don't you have the proof running down your face?"
Haruka wiped his chin. There was nothing there. "I don't find it funny."
"What do you want to hear? That it was a fine performance? Very professional," Rin snapped
like the viper he sometimes could be. "You did very well."
"I don't get you."

"Of course not. When did you? When have you cared about what I wanted?"
"I do," he said, feeling water running down his cheeks before he could stop it. Rin was
everything at this point—he could say anything he wanted, hurt whichever part he chose. "I
do care." He leaned his forehead on Rin's shoulder and sniffed—a shameful begging,
unsuited for a man. He didn't care. "You don't… don't want it this way, okay. I will remember
that."
"It's not that." Rin's arms were around him before he could take another breath, crushing his
wounds, and he didn't want to know, had to know, at the same time, if Rin had ever been
given this kind of pleasure before by someone else. "I just imagined it differently."
"I'm sorry."
"Let's not ruin this, okay? It has to be perfect, our first time. You're perfect—I'll do whatever
it takes to make it worthy of you." Rin's eyes were dark. "We'll forget this and start all over,
alright? It never happened."
Haruka shut his eyes firmly, but it didn't stop water from leaking out. "You're not angry?"
"No." Rin's arms were secure around him. "No. But I better go. I'm tired."
"You're always leaving."
Rin smiled. "I leave and I come back—in the end, all my roads lead to you." Somewhere
above the city on the small, dirty rooftop terrace he kissed Haruka's forehead. "Good night,
my only. I'll dream about you tonight."
Haruka stared at the city drained of colours—the night was slowly ending, lights flickering
off one by one. Later, with door of the bathroom locked, he wrestled himself free from the
torment of his pants. He ground his teeth so he wouldn't moan and jerked his dick so
forcefully it hurt more than pleasured. He came so hard it blacked his brain for a second. His
cum was dripping down the stained toilet bowl as he panted hard—shameless, impure,
obscene. He flushed it down the drain.
***
Even early mornings were too warm by this time of year for running, filling throats with
stickiness, refusing to cool an overheated body down. He hated it any month, day or night, so
it shouldn't make much difference.
It was a scarcely used, local middle-school running track, open for the public except for
school hours. Conveniently close to Haruka's house, it was perfect if he lost his mind and
wanted to run from his own will. It was vacant at this hour, fairly private.
"You alright?" Rin asked, catching for breath once it was clear that Haruka wasn't going to
make another round. "You're pale like death."
The tartan of the running track swayed before Haruka as sweat dripped into his eyes. "Yes I...
I'm fine. Just need a—" he said, face crunching when another stab of vicious, hot pain made
him see double. "A moment."
"Like hell you are." Rin took the three steps that separated them and lifted the hem of
Haruka's shirt that Haruka was clutching onto. "What the hell is that?" He pushed fingers
between bandages, and Haruka winced. "For crying out loud, jesus christ, I can't believe
that."
"It's nothing. Just bruises," Haruka said, wiped his brow and congratulated himself for
keeping the bandages on for training despite completely sweating them through—it wouldn't
do for Rin to see what was underneath.
"Bruises?" Rin's voice broke over some emotion he was trying to control. "Just bruises? I
suppose they don't hurt, just like this doesn't." His thumb pressed against the nice black eye
forming on Haruka's face. Haruka couldn't help but hiss, watching the colour drain from Rin's
face. "For fuck's sake, what happened? If it wasn't those fuckers who beat you, who then?"
"I was robbed."
"Robbed? By who?"
Under the weight of scrutiny Haruka had to sit down. The grass was still covered with dew
that seeped through his clothes—he longed to lay his whole body into it.
"It was a... a random guy."
"A random guy. Well, elaborate," he invited when Haruka fell silent.
"There's nothing more to say. I'm fine, I told you."
"Well, that's just great." Rin made a circle before returning back to stand before Haruka with
an expression so furious it made him shiver. "And otherwise you're completely, absolutely
normal—running in this state?" Haruka gritted his teeth, refusing to lift his head from where
it rested between his knees. "So if I'm right." Rin laughed roughly. "And correct me if I'm
wrong, you had all that last night. You had that last night, when you went down on me.
Kneeling on your knees. Did you just come out of hospital before I arrived? You did, didn't
you? You irresponsible, careless little shit."
"Are you quite done?" Haruka spat what tasted like copper on the grass. It was blood. "It's
not so bad. It doesn't hurt as much as you think. I can go on with our training normally, it
won't affect anything."
"Anything, yeah? Yeah?" Rin was shaking violently. "Then get up and run," he said, a
feigned calm that was as disgusting as the way Haruka felt when mocked like this. Rin
nudged his shoulder. "Let's go, we've got at least a dozen rounds ahead. You said you're fine.
Then run. I'm waiting." Haruka didn't move, didn't look up, resigned to feel Rin standing
there, waiting, quivering with anger. "I said get the fuck up and run," he yelled.
"Get off my back, Rin."
"I need to run, or I... I don't even know."
Then he was gone, running down a lane of the track, and Haruka watched behind him. Stared
after his back, feeling the pitiable release from last night settle comfortably at the base of his
spine; for a while, the worst of demons satisfied. But his mind was a tricker, reminding him
of the taste in his mouth; of the great weight on his tongue, or the structure of delicate skin
covering the hardness underneath. He raked his hair, wishing to forget it all, wondering how
was he supposed to go a day without, now that he knew what it felt like.
He wished to know what this love really was, apart from the fact it wasn't perfect.
Because his love was greedy, hard, it was all he knew that love was. Love was to dance on
the rooftop at three o'clock and train together barely four hours later with no sleep in
between. Love was to care, love was to crave. Love was to make you alive, also to never give
you what you wanted the most. Love was to suffer. Love was to never suffer alone.
When Rin had done enough he returned less furious, more silent. They collected their things
in what seemed like a fragile truce, walking side by side back towards Haruka's home, though
he never asked to be accompanied or invited inside in the fear of miscalculating another step
again. It was going to rain soon. And he never thought there would come a day when he
would be the one to fill the void of conversation with meaningless prattle—anything to make
Rin break his solemn silence, at the very least look to the same side of the street—but here it
was.
"Hirai agreed that adding heavy lifting should put enough pressure on your upper-body
tendons to make you peak in Qatar. He said it's fine if we swapped regular trainings with the
rest of the team for our private ones, as long as they are supervised. We should make them
double before the taper—"
"If I didn't come to see you last night you wouldn't even have called me, would you?"
Haruka forgot to close his mouth. "I would have, eventually."
"I see," Rin said after a long while. Haruka realized instantly that something was wrong: with
all his senses turned Rin's way like a satellite to a transmitter he felt at once how his body
tensed—a pulled string of a bow; Rin halted to growl and bolted forward.
In a dream he watched Sousuke's figure straighten from where he was leaning against his
car's hood, face startled and blanched. He saw it coming just like Haruka did, it was in the
widened shock of his eyes: the glimpse of a future where no amount of effort would redeem
this friendship. Not after something like what Rin was about to do, his fist already raised.
What stopped the inevitable, nobody really understood. Maybe memories of great times
together spurred something in the depths of Rin's mind, maybe the fact of how fucking stupid
it was to fight for a guy that no one doubted was his.
"Ah, what the hell?" Rin pulled on his own hair, looking confused. With a last glance at them
he was sprinting down the road, leaving Haruka behind. So fast that Haruka couldn't catch up
even if he didn't have pain stabbing in his side; not when Rin didn't want to be caught.
Yamazaki's eyes flickered to his side momentarily.
"I told you not to come!" Haruka yelled from his lungs. "You've messed up everything."
"I didn't expect him to be here so early in the morning. I thought… I'm sorry. Don't go,
Dolphin, don't go just yet. Please," Yamazaki pleaded. "I parked far enough... He wasn't
supposed to know. I needed to see you. I couldn't help it. I couldn't sleep, I—"
Haruka was sick, he knew it as he took three steps at once running up to his condo, because
no one should hate his friends. But he hated, hated Yamazaki for simply breathing. He wished
Yamazaki could really be just that—a friend that didn't impose any feelings on others.
Feelings that no one could doubt now were far more than friendship.
Haruka barged into his place and headed for Makoto's room with long strides. He halted in
the middle of it and all of a sudden he was standing in his own doorway. His mother's eyes
lifted to him from a book.
"What did he do? My father," Haruka spat, not caring one bit that he was taking his anger out
on someone who didn't cause it. Haruka pointed at his black eye. "What did he do that I
deserved this?"
"It's difficult to explain," she said evenly, maybe after a few lingering seconds of gazing on
his bruised face.
"I've got time."
Their eyes met, somewhere under his shirt a trickle of blood seeped into the waistband of his
running pants.
"Alright." Misaki let out a held breath. "Let me take you somewhere."
Chapter 17
Chapter Notes
Hello guys!
Another Tuesday, another chapter, this time a little bit earlier. Enjoy and please,
comment. Love you all!
EDIT: I actually really managed to forget giving credit for editing this chapter,
unbelievable. To redeem myself I'll make it as clear as possible. This person did it ---->
marbled_maven marbled_maven marbled_maven marbled_maven marbled_maven
marbled_maven marbled_maven marbled_maven marbled_maven marbled_maven
marbled_maven. Sorry for forgetting :´(
There were no signs that Yamazaki still walked this planet. Several days passed in a blur of
trainings, paper work readying for the trip and race, the pain that never really ceased. And
while Rin still kissed him against the door of his condo every night that he accompanied
Haruka home only to travel an hour back to his own place, he talked less and less.
Never once did he mention the morning of Yamazaki's appearance at Haruka's house, or the
robbery. At times Haruka caught him staring at the bruises covering his torso with eyes like
black holes, but Rin always hid them behind his goggles and his jumps were stronger then.
There was little to say, yes, but it was disconcerting to have Rin's mouth closed where usually
it would never stop.
"What did they give you at the ER?" the team's doctor asked, and Haruka tore his eyes from
where they were staring blankly at the white wall of the school's infirmary.
"OxiContin."
"You haven't been taking it, I hope," the old man grumbled in disapproval. "These young
doctors have no common sense. To give an opioid like that to an athlete preparing for a
competition, what nonsense."
"I'm not taking it."
The corner of the doctor's eye twitched irritably. "Perhaps you are aware that I have been
approached and kindly asked by Hirai-san to sign your health report and to declare you
competent for participation."
"I am."
"Despite the injuries you have suffered," the man said, looking over the rim of his glasses.
"Yes."
"Now why would I do that? Tell me. Why would I endanger your health and possibly your
life this way? From what I understand from the ER report you narrowly avoided mortal
injuries, and those you have are serious enough for me to keep you from a pool for a very
long time. The fact that you, by sheer will, keep walking around like it's nothing isn't really a
sign you are fit to swim at a world-class event. Still, you want to go."
Haruka glanced at the paper laying on the table under the doctor's hand, his thick fingers
spread protectively over it as if Haruka could make him, force him somehow to take that pen
and make the most important decision of Haruka's life for him.
"It's important." He looked up to find the doctor watching him closely, unable to convey what
precisely was at stake here. What kind of mess would be made if he was stopped before
Qatar's gates now, for a small obstacle as such. "Very important."
So important he would do anything to be there, to stand next to Rin on the starting blocks
when a referee's whistle blew, to feel that rush, to be there—if for nothing else then for the
privilege to watch his lover get that gold.
"Very important," the doctor repeated dryly, his eyes hard before he turned them to the paper.
"Considering the consequences, the question is if 'very' is enough."
With a heavy sigh he put his signature to the low left corner of Haruka's report.
"I hope both you and Hirai-san won't regret it," he said when Haruka stood in the doorway,
paper in his sweaty fingers and his heart beating down to his toes. Oh, Haruka knew he
wouldn't. He would never.
The infirmary stood in a lone building at the far end of the university's campus, and it took a
good ten minutes to walk back to the main building where Hirai wanted to discuss carb-
loading with Rin. Ten minutes was nothing, if at the sixth Haruka didn't have to sit down. The
pill tasted bitter like guilt on his tongue, but like always, it lasted only for a moment. For a
while again, everything was going to be easier.
The ignorance was a bliss. He never attempted to find how long it took a human's body to get
rid of the substance that was more than likely listed as prohibited. What for? The goal was to
survive until his taper, his body would have enough time then to deal with everything—
before he was asked to present his vein to have someone stick a needle into it.
There was no other way, he thought, as clean lines of the school gate appeared behind the
pine trees of the park. Before them a speck of red, a spark amidst ashes that pushed his feet
into faster rhythm.
"Oh my god." He halted in between two steps, feeling the very same flecks of gold in two red
pools turn to him and smile. "Oh my god. Is that you?"
"Haru!"
"Gou," he choked out when her lean girly arms curled around his neck and squeezed. Gou's
hair smelled of vanilla, red like her brother's in Haruka's face, and she giggled happily as
Haruka finally caught up and returned her embrace vigorously. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a surprise," she exclaimed.
Haruka felt that smile on his face, wide and foolish, like only Matsuokas could put on him.
"Does Rin know?"
"Yes, he told me to wait here for you both, but he was surprised, too." Gou let go of his neck.
She was, indeed, very pretty—the same beauty that her brother possessed, only soft, girlish.
"You're free now, aren't you? Rin said you both would be. What'd you say you take me to the
city? I want to see all those odd things they show on TV, people wearing silly clothes, and I
want to see it with my favourite brother." Her small hand curled around his shyly—the
gesture so unlike anything she would have dared back when she was just his little kouhai, his
friend's sister.
"God, yes, let's get the hell out of here." The breath was stolen from Haruka's lungs and Gou
squeaked when Rin materialized between them, his long arms falling around their necks and
pulling them towards the school park's exit.
A wet, smacking kiss landed on Gou's cheek, and when those red eyes danced all around
Haruka's face, dark and hungry, he almost thought he was going to get the same.
"How have you been healing, Haru?" Gou peaked from behind Rin's head, eyeing his green-
to-yellow black eye shyly.
Rin pulled them into a faster walk. "He says he's fine. Come on."
She said something then, but Haruka couldn't hear from under Rin's other arm. The topic was
dropped.
It was late afternoon when they got into Shinjuku, and the setting Sun was already drawing
long shadows through its orange filter. Gou tried so hard not to be awestruck by every
subway car they rode, the eccentric city people, the skyscrapers and luxury hotels, and never
stopped being cute while at it. And when Rin turned his first genuine smile Haruka's way
after so many days, it felt like resurrection.
"Hey, isn't that Nintama Rantarou?" Gou pointed at the group of ninja-clothed people,
flooding from the building they were just passing by. Haruka looked up at the hotel's name—
some sort of anime con must have been happening here, judging by the number of plushy
animal costumes that were meandering the crowd.
"Chingensai Sameta!" Rin exclaimed all of a sudden, eyes twinkling, and Gou laughed out
loud.
"Samela Zensai!"
"Hietta Namayasai!
Haruka rolled his eyes and hit the backs of their heads just like they did in the anime. "It's
Hietta Happosai, idiots."
When Rin guffawed, something radiant exploded in Haruka's chest and he couldn't fight the
grin off, even if Gou's face wasn't just the same.
"I can't believe you watched it, too." Rin laughed, his hand warm around Haruka's shoulders
as if it was made to be there by a higher power. "We used to be addicted to that show as kids.
Now you're officially ours."
Gou grinned, something mischievous in her eyes before she pulled on Rin's arm to drag them
to another shop she's heard of but never been to. And from the outside it might have looked
like Haruka trudged behind them reluctantly, only, in fact, he needed a second to control the
burst of happiness that almost tackled him to the ground.
It took him five long steps to catch up with them, and they made space for him in the middle
because it was natural. And he would walk with them for the rest of the day like this,
listening to their easy banter and teasing, if Gou didn't pronounce herself thirsty and her
bladder full—the worst combination a human could experience.
"How come we've never drunk together before, brother?" she asked when they exited a small
diner an hour later, her pale skin turning bright pink on her cheeks. Rin pinched her on the
one.
"You had one beer, that hardly stands for drinking."
"It does, for me," she objected, smirking when her gaze fell on Haruka. "And for Haru, too,
as it seems."
"Hmm?" Haruka swayed a little, and Gou giggled.
Rin's eyes lingered on him a second too long, but Haruka wouldn't have him worried. Not
today. And he did feel fine, after all, light like he hadn't felt since the day of the attack.
Weightless like astronauts they showed on the TV; he flew through Tokyo's streets with the
two of them like co-pilots.
"Ah, I've always wanted to ride one of these." Gou sighed, motioning towards a red double
decker that had just parked at its designated spot at the curb. Haruka read the big letters of
Sky Bus Tokyo above the front glass, unprepared for what came next. "What? Wait!"
Not that he could ever predict Rin's decisions, but when Gou exclaimed and ran after Rin as
if their soles were on fire, it took him a whole two seconds before he realized they were
gone.
"Isn't this dangerous?" she asked, completely breathless, once Haruka was standing at Rin's
other side on top of the already moving bus, hands gripping the very front railings. The road
down there disappeared under the wheels of the bus, other passengers' complaints were loud
behind them, but he was dizzy for other reasons. Gou pointed somewhere up in front of them.
"Oh, isn't that... the Statue of Liberty? Am I too drunk? I really didn't drink much."
"We've been Star-Treked to the other side of the ocean," Haruka suggested, feeling Rin's
laughter just like the beginning of summer in the wind.
"I don't think that's what they call it in the movie, baby. Or where the Statue is."
Rin spread his arms wide, breathing in deeply, eerily beautiful; a glowing beacon on Haruka's
horizon. Wind played with Gou's fiery hair when Haruka met her eyes then—two amused
brilliants, and he was lost when she nodded with a soft smile, for he could never ever live
again without being theirs.
It happened later when the two of them were standing alone, watching Rin wrestling with a
street vending machine.
"Why aren’t you wearing the pendant I sent you?" Gou turned to him, as if she actually forgot
the gift she had given him for a second. Haruka fished a fragile looking chain out of his front
pocket and smiled. Two small pendants glimmered in the almost set Sun—a tiny shark and a
dolphin, two pieces of white gold pushed together by gravitation. "Well, put it on, you silly."
"Won't he mind?"
Gou raised her eyebrows.
"Why don't you ask him?"
Haruka hesitated, anyway. It was a birthday gift that Rin had received from her and their
mom, after all, even though Gou claimed Rin never wore it.
"Mom says hi, by the way." Gou smiled, closing Haruka's hand around the chain, and leaned
in just in time to whisper before Rin was back with arms around them both. "And I say
finally."
"You absolutely must come with us to the culture-torture tonight, sister. Not only must I wear
a suit, but watching two fools falling in love only to tragically burn in the fireplace together is
just too much. Not even Haru's mom's birthday is worth such a suffering. I bet Nagisa won't
mind giving up his ticket for you, he's feeling under the weather anyway."
"Why not. But what do you of all have against romance all of a sudden?"
"What, you ask." Rin pursed his lips when Haruka fished in his pocket for the cigarettes that
he had just bought and tossed them into the nearest trash.
Gou's laughter rang in Haruka's chest, the memory stored and not quite yet processed in his
mind as Rin pulled them down the pavement again—having two blazing bonfires in his life
instead of one. His head was spinning from either that or the pills, and when Rin's nose found
his and they both breathed in the only air they ever wanted to live off, Gou sighed way too
close.
"You two are making me feel even worse for being so pathetically single."
"This, dear Gou, is a true romance. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy."
Haruka laughed, and gold trembled like fire sparks in Rin's eyes when the Sun finally sat
behind the city.
***
The afternoon took its toll, of course. The dizziness sat heavy in his head when he buttoned
down his shirt and a brand new suit jacket. Something settled in his stomach, a little grey fear
that he might have overdone it this time.
Every now and then Haruka blinked to chase away the darkness lurking at the back of his
mind; each time he made a wrong move, bent quickly to pick up a tie from his bed, breathed
in fully.
The city moved behind the clean-washed windows of Kawasaki's limousine, and it took him
a second too long to realize his mother's hand on the back of his own. It took him even longer
to focus on a white envelope that she held.
"It’s mine—the money you asked for. It's not a good idea to take from the account your dad
has set up for you. Not these days." She eyed him suspiciously, but didn't comment on the
way his fingers failed to grasp the envelope on the first try.
Haruka glared at it. "I didn’t want your money."
"Don’t be ridiculous, what’s mine is yours."
"I'll return everything. To the very last yen—"
She waved her hand. "Yes, yes, of course. Stop spoiling my mood now." She was looking
once again out the window. "You haven't changed your mind just yet—about the trip with
me? It would really be only for a day or two."
"I can't leave now, I've got a competition soon. I told you so."
"That you did. Then—when you return."

The theatre was a silver and white marble building, cold like modern art always was.
Impersonal lines did nothing to Haruka's eye; they could not entice, nor did they invite for a
second look even had he had a mind to do so. The interior glistened in the lighting, mastered
into perfection, though, softening the hard edges, smoothing the hardness, and it helped to
calm Haruka's mind as he ascended the white stairs. His mother let go of his elbow to
embrace Anna and her father waiting for them at the top. Haruka felt the stare on him without
a need to look up, but he did so just for the sake of pissing her off.
"Well, look what money can do," Anna said, looking him all over. When she smiled sweetly,
it was not for him, but for Gou that materialized from behind Haruka's back. It faded quickly,
the anticipation of being introduced to Rin's sister she hadn't had an opportunity to meet with
yet, because Gou's lips were on Haruka's cheek and her back to Anna.
"You look wonderful."
"I'm glad you're here." Haruka squeezed her small hands, enjoying the dismayed look in
Anna's eyes.
Then Rin was there and they all blended to the background. A quirked smile, the black shirt a
perfect contrast against the pale throat, buttons that would part under Haruka's hands nicely
down to the waist and lower, where Haruka knew what it looked like.
In an instant, gone was the contentment of a short-lived satisfaction, gone was the patience.
That primitive need was back again. Haruka's heart beat wildly in his chest when long fingers
pulled on his wrist and turned it to inspect the intricate design on the cufflink.
"Nice." Rin held his stare, corners of his eyes softened with laughter. "Did you rob a bank?"
"It's a gift." Haruka chuckled, and the lavish staircase swayed when Rin smirked and let go.
The warmth of his hand on Haruka's lower back lead him in the direction the others went
ahead, down to the cloaking room and through the maze of corridors to the row of doors
marked by small golden numbers—an accession to the theatre's balconies. It was reassuring,
like always when Rin touched him, but there was also something new to it. More than a
protection, less than a control, it proved itself present when Haruka halted on the last step in
front of the balcony's open door, looking straight into Yamazaki's somber smile.
"I know—you forgot I was invited, too."
"No. We just hoped you would get a clue and stay home," Rin said. The push Haruka got
against his back was unexpected, not particularly gentle, sending a shot of pain through his
side.
Yamazaki stepped in hurriedly. "Just give me a minute of your time."
"Go home."
"Please, Rin, I need to talk to both of you. It's not—just give me a chance to—"
"Sorry, we're full." Rin pulled the door closed smoothly into Yamazaki's grim face. Haruka
held onto the backseat of the balcony's chair for leverage and glared at him. "What? We are
full, aren't we?"
"Oh my, Rin," Gou said, her pretty face worried. "You're making me ashamed on your
account. Poor Yamazaki-san."
"You don't know the half of it," Haruka growled. He took Rin's hand outstretched for him just
because Anna's eyes wouldn't let the opposite go unnoticed.
The music of the orchestra was an avalanche then, drawing colourful shapes behind his
eyelids as Haruka finally gave up watching the stage. Rin's fingers were wings of a butterfly
on his palm, making love to his hand in the dark of a balcony—an argument Haruka wanted
to trust.
The man that Rin used to call his best friend was there somewhere, though, cut from their life
like an appendage unnecessary. An undeserved, horrible unfairness that could not be a
possible outcome of something as pure as love. Gou's eyes were worried when the break was
announced and Rin took off to have a cigarette with Anna in tow.
"You're not feeling well?"
"I just need some air." Haruka rose, a bit wobbly, a little graceless, not able to refuse her
when she followed after him. Yamazaki was nowhere to be seen, and it was for the best if he
had already left. The corridors were plenty, people meandered by, a flood of bodies that were
not him. It left something hollow in Haruka's chest, but it was as it was and there was nothing
else to do than to find a place on the bench of a terrace.
Air was filled with sound of cicadas, smokers' amused banter, and Gou's silent sigh as she
leaned her head against his shoulder. A friend, a sister he never had until now, a quiet
companion. A supple kind of Rin's flame, she was warm when her arm went around his waist
naturally.
Her hair smelled of a fresh Summer night, soft and pliant under his cheek, so unlike the
tensed muscles of his back when her hand, by accident, pushed at the wrong rib. He smiled
for her uneasy eyes. Warm night air soothed the pain, but couldn't preserve the peacefulness,
not against the familiar voices from behind a tall, flowery bed.
"When was it you slept last? You look horrible."
"Oh, thanks, mom. Come here and sit with me, you're giving me whiplash."
Their lit cigarettes looked like fireflies in between the dark and leaves, and Haruka was up to
follow when Gou pulled him away from the private conversation, he really was.
"So... is he good to you?"
"Annie."
"What? You claim I'm your friend, all over again like a broken record. You can answer one
simple question to a friend," Anna said, unable to see Gou's disagreeing face, the way she
shook her head, or the way Haruka pulled her back down.
"You remember what you said that night you broke up with me? Do you think of it
sometimes? I keep thinking about it all the time. You said... you said that you owed him so
much. Just like that. You didn't say that you loved him, you didn't say that you couldn't live
without him. You said 'I owe him so much'. "
"Annie, please stop. Do you really want to talk about this?"
"Oh, come on. When will I see you again like this—alone? You've been doing great avoiding
me, but you can't do that forever. You knew—you knew eventually I was going to ask. Why
didn't you say that you loved him then?"
"I don't know. I don't remember much from that night. It was a blur."
The theatre horn announced the end of the intermission, and when the sound wore off Haruka
knew this was a mistake. Eavesdropping had never brought anyone happiness—you shouldn't
want answers for questions you didn't have courage to ask. Gou's eyes were wide and glossy
in the moon's light, anchored at the psychedelic shadows dancing on the paved terrace, two
silhouettes merging into one.
"What if... do you ever think about it? What if it's just that? What if you're so grateful to him
for taking you back to the world you love, that you misplaced those feelings—"
"I don't love that world, Annie, I hate it. Some mornings I'm not sure I can get myself into a
pool again. It's him I'm doing it all for. I do love him."
"But you said that to me, too."
"I did."
"And still, you left me." Last tardy smokers were leaving the terrace, pain shot terribly
through him from Gou's vicious embrace that was quickly becoming unbearable. "So how is
it then? How come you stopped loving me?"
"I haven't, really. It's just not the same."
"No, it's not." Anna laughed roughly. "Have you slept with him?"
Haruka's heart started into a gallop. Gou pushed her hands to her ears.
"Alright." Rin must have stood up—his voice sounded different. "I'm going back."
"Well, have you?"
"You didn’t really ask that, did you?"
"You haven’t, have you?" She sounded like she she was smiling. "I knew it."
"How, in the world, did you come to that conclusion?"
"Then it’s all clear." Anna gave out a laugh, and Haruka swallowed the bitter taste of late
dinner coming back up. "It’s just as I thought. Rin, this is why you can't let go of him. Can't
you see?" she said, all excited. "A man’s love lasts only as long as his unsatisfied desires. No
matter of what kind that desire is, it’s always the same."
"Annie." Rin sounded exhausted. "I'm trying to be nice to you, to look out for you, to be there
for you whenever you need—I know you're going through hard times. But this is… it's too
much."
"I understand, Rin," she continued. "I know that you need to try everything there is, young
boys often do before they settle. I won’t judge you for that, not I. I might not understand your
choice… but that’s my problem." Haruka found himself pushing Gou's comforting arms
away. "You feel that you need this... Alright. Go do whatever you need, and you'll find soon
it's not what you're expecting it to be."
"Are you giving me permission to fuck him?" Rin growled, angry. "Is that what you’re
doing?"
"Do you even have a notion what sex between males entails? Do you know how dangerous it
can be? I’ve tried to read about it, and it’s… it’s horrible."
"It’s not about sex between him and I," Rin exclaimed.
"I won't… I won't hold it against you." She was on the verge of tears, trying to hold it in like
a soldier. "I know I'm not your girl, I live it every day, I'm buried underneath it. I'm not
begging you to come back. All I'm doing is telling you that I'm here, I'm waiting. I'll take you
back whenever you're done with this, and then we won't ever talk about it again. We'll just be
happy like before."
The conversation continued in raised voices—a perfect dichotomy with the orchestra's distant
playing. Someone shouted, but he couldn't make out any of it then, neither while running, nor
while retching into the bushes.
"Oh my god, Haru, are you alright? Should I get Rin? I'm going to get him." Gou found him
in no time, there was nowhere to hide but behind the corner of the sterile-white building.
He held onto her wrist. "No, no. Don't."
"Haru."
"No. Just go. Go inside. I'll be alright. I ate something bad. I'll be back in a second."
Her hand was nicely cool on his forehead. "You know he wouldn't go back to her, don't you?
He loves you—always did, ever since I can remember."
"Please, Gou... leave me alone," he pleaded, unable to be bear being seen like this.
"Do you want to know why he never wore this necklace?" Her finger softly touched the
fragile chain on Haruka's overheated skin. "He thought he was too obvious anytime he had it
on. And he wasn't wrong—I saw him only once wearing it while you were around. He was
red like a tomato the whole time." She grinned. "I think mom didn't find until much later why
I insisted on a shark and a dolphin together."
She looked smug and Haruka laughed. "I… I’d rather not go back to that play, if you don’t
mind."
"Ah, not at all." She waved it off. "I swear, I pity the girl, but if I have to see her tonight I'll
hit her over the head with something. She's thick enough—it wouldn't hurt her much."
Haruka chuckled. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that."
"Ah, don't be ridiculous. Come, we'll catch a taxi."
The square in front of the theatre was a wide place devoid of ballet lovers who were still
sitting inside, watching the play. Almost a perfect setting for a movie scene if there was one
to be filmed, it was impossible to miss the lone figure in the light coat, flapping in the wind.
Without a single question Gou let go of Haruka's arm and made for a row of cabs waiting by
the road on the far left. He watched her go, unable to fight off the little spark of happiness
when Yamazaki halted before him.
"Is the play done already? I didn't expect it to end so soon."
"No, we're leaving early."
"I'm taking you home."
"No. No, you're not." Haruka smiled, pain on his lips like foreboding.
"I'm sorry, I… I had to come. I had to try to fix this... No." Yamazaki laughed. "Let's not lie
again. I had to see you." Yamazaki's voice was weak, and Haruka, no matter what he had
wished before, couldn’t look at him and acknowledge that this was the last time he would see
his face. "I didn't even notice it happening to me." Yamazaki looked up, awed. "All of a
sudden it was there."
"That's how it works, doesn't it?"
"I never planned to fall for you." Yamazaki looked desperate. "You have to know that."
"I know."
"It's unbearable."
"I know. I know." Haruka wrapped his arms around his neck when the man bowed his head—
so lonely in the emptiness of the square. He wanted to shoo all the worries away, to say not to
fear, for there would come someone who would make him their first and last. It just wasn't
Haruka. It just couldn't be him. "It'll be alright."
"How do I turn it off? What do I do to stop this?"
"You know what." Haruka placed a lingering kiss against the hot temple. There were less than
a few men like the one he held in his arms. It was a mystery of life why he could never feel
differently, never be the one who would be happy by his side. Why it was Rin and no one
else. "Goodbye, Sousuke."
He laughed brokenly. "So this is our never. I should have known."
"It was a privilege to know you."
"Until never, then." Sousuke smiled through the water in his eyes. "Haru."
Haruka walked quickly then, unable to look back or else they would end up sitting at some
diner till a god-forbidden hour and torment each other again some other time, postponing the
inevitable. This had to be a clean cut.
He would never be there to see those teal eyes light up when Sousuke got to finally meet the
love of his life, he wouldn't be there to tease him about it endlessly. There would be no more
stupid jokes that made Haruka's world easier, like a camera filter that made everything look
lighter, he wouldn't be honoured to them anymore. There was nothing in store for them.
He was almost running before he reached the taxi that Gou had picked from the queue. She
held his hand during the whole ride until she ultimately got off in front of the hotel,
deliberately blind to the tears which, in the dark of the car, ran down his face. They say that
for every person you lose there is another entering your life, as if people received an
invitation at just the right time, and he wondered if maybe it really wasn't so.
Perhaps, he thought as he walked those few short steps from the front door to Makoto's room,
but no one said you would miss the lost one less for that reason. Or that any of it made you
stronger or better prepared for future missteps, he thought the third second he stared at
Makoto's bared, rhythmically moving butt.
"Oh my god, Haru!" Jane's voice was horrified as Haruka slammed the door behind him,
hand over his mouth to hide the cackle coming up his throat—something between delighted
and engrossed. There was a panicky ruckus in the room when he shot out of the condo.
"Rei, is Nagisa with you?" Haruka asked into his phone through the laughter, unable to
believe he actually managed to laugh tonight. "Yes? Sorry I'm disturbing. Do you think I
could spend the night, too?"
***
Dreams were a mirror. A panoptic view of all the failures to Sousuke's unreturned feelings, a
face of a friend that was thrown away. Some twenty meters and Haruka would be with the
reason for it all, a co-author of this selfish fairytale. He quickened his pace to see, to make
sure again that it was worth it.
That everything was worth the scent of Rin's skin when Haruka inhaled against his nape,
agonizingly strong even in the stinky locker room; for the goose bumps on Rin's naked
shoulders. Everything, even the biggest of sacrifices, for the sight that had him hard in his
pants all the way from the open door, for the allowance to run his palms down the artistically
sculpted arms and back, all those deltoids and biceps. His very own Donatello's David, no
matter how cold they were under the touch, the sculpture and the real one, both.
"What is this?" Rin asked, paleness of his fingers against the envelope that Haruka pushed
into his hands.
"Money."
"I can see that. What is it for?"
"For you." Haruka kissed the marble skin of his back. "For the start—to make it a little
easier."
"What?"
"It's fine. Use it however you want. Just don't get rid of that apartment. It's tiny, but I like it."
His body was a perfect fit against Rin's back—why did it never occur to him before? It would
be amazing if Rin allowed him—if only it was possible.
"I don't believe this." Rin pulled away. "Where did you even get this much?"
"It doesn't matter. You'll give it back once you start working again." Rin gaped at him.
"What? What's the matter?"
"Is this all your savings?"
"No. I told you it doesn't matter."
"Jesus christ." Rin's locker door slammed with a deafening bang. "By the way, I hope you're
feeling better today. Heard you were sick. Thank god I've got a sister to explain to me why I
had to watch the rest of the damn ballet alone with just my ex."
Haruka stared at an enormous pink dick sprayed across Rin's locker, hairy balls hanging
below. "Rin, we must report this."
"I texted you." Rin ignored the monstrosity.
"I replied."
"Three fucking hours later!"
"I couldn't—I went to sleep right—"
"You left without a single word, did you even realize that?" Pain crossed Rin's features. "Do I
really have no right to know that you are unwell? Don't I? What does that make me? Where
does that put me, Haru?"
"It wasn't so bad. I could manage on my own, I didn't want you to worry."
"Wasn't so bad—it's never bad enough to call on me, is it?" Rin's steps were long through the
locker room to the exit for the natatorium, his hand firm when he pushed the envelope against
Haruka's chest. Money fell from it down to Haruka's feet like leaves. "I really do hope your
night was better than mine, wherever you slept. Or whoever with."
"Oh, come on. I was at Rei's—Makoto and Jane were in our room and—"
"Why don't you let me in?" Whistles and hollering from the natatorium flooded the locker
room when Rin paused in the open door.
Haruka faltered. "I… I do."
"I know I'm not very dependable, but I thought... I hoped that at least you'd see something in
me."
Haruka gaped at the closed door. The locker room was silent—the room where the pink-cock
locker couldn't surprise Rin anymore—so accustomed he had become to the bullying. Where
he underwent this torture every day for Haruka only.
He was out the door before he could think otherwise. Damp air clung to his forehead when he
realized he was standing out fully dressed, the regular training had not finished yet.
The natatorium floor was slippery, and his veins had long forgotten how it felt when the last
pill soothed the pain. Still, he wouldn't have thought he was so weak—to find himself on the
floor, two guys with water dripping from their hair next to him. Haruka mewled at the shock
of pain cruising through his side.
"Trainer, he hit him," someone said, and Haruka opened his eyes to Tatano's deadly silence.
"Matsuoka pushed him, and he fell. We saw it."
"No," Haruka breathed out, watching darkness in Rin's eyes turn to a fog. "No, he didn't."
The perfect setting it was, he knew as he was getting to his feet like a broken doll, with the
pool's edge close to where his head had hit the ground. With blood seeping through his white
shirt where deeper scratches had opened. With Rin's memory full of a boy that had almost
died under his hands, not too long ago.
"He didn't," Haruka shouted when no one seemed to listen, hands of strangers holding onto
Rin's paralyzed arms as if he was able to move if he tried. "Let go of him. Let go!" An ashen-
grey forehead was hot when Haruka grasped Rin's face in his hands, so shaky that Rin's hair
trembled along. "Look at me. Look at me! Can you hear me? Listen to me, okay? You didn't,
you didn't hit me, I slipped, you didn't hit me. I swear. Please, please, look at me."
"Take him out." Haruka moved before Tatano's gravy voice finished the sentence. They were
lucky they didn't get in the way—the onlookers, parting like a sea when Haruka pushed Rin
through them.
He had no idea how to treat a person in shock.
For a moment he considered a slap, but the idea of hurting Rin felt worse than jumping in
front of a running train. The showers were vacant, lone droplets falling from the loose heads
and hitting the tiled floor as he held Rin against the wall with one hand and tried to turn the
water on with the other.
It fell freezing cold on their heads, and Haruka cursed under his breath.
"Come on, Rin. Don't do this to me." Bloody red hair lay wet against Rin's skull under the
cold shower that wept like Haruka wanted, too. "Please. Please, look at me. Dammit."
Rin's eyes were hollow, lost like his mind was in a nightmare that nothing could erase, not
even kisses that Haruka peppered Rin's hands with. "I'm alright, nothing bad happened, I'm
fine, baby. You didn't hurt me. My love, come back to me. Please, please."
"I hit you."
"No, you didn't. You didn't hit me." Haruka almost laughed, so happy over Rin's croaked
voice he could cry.
"I didn't?"
"No. You turned around and I was surprised. That's all, I slipped. I'm not at my best, today."
"But I wanted to." Rin looked up dazedly. His eyes like sinkholes followed the trace of his
fingers down Haruka's wet, bleeding shirt. "I wanted to. I would jump in front of a truck for
you, that's how much I love you. Fuck, but when you piss me off... when you piss me off, I
don't recognize myself."
"You're talking nonsense."
"Would you want me if I did? Would you still want me if I hit you?" The lighting was cold
like an autopsy room, the expression in Rin's eyes slowly turned into one of dark amusement.
"See? See how close I got to losing you?" Rin's finger was tender against Haruka's lips, and
he parted them without a thought. "Maybe it's too hard for us. Maybe we can't handle it."
"Stop talking, or I'll shut your mouth for you."
"Hah." Rin laughed. "Don't tell me you don’t think about it, ever. That you would be better
off without me. Without my shit that you take care of all the time."
It felt surreal, grasping Rin's chin and mouth like this. It must have been painful, for certain,
but surely not close to the pain in Haruka's chest.
"Don't ever talk like this again, you understand? You didn't hit me. Nothing happened. Now
we're going to get up, get dressed and forget this conversation ever happened. You didn't lose
me. You will never lose me, I will never lose you, do you understand?" Rin nodded in
Haruka's trembling hands. "I don't mind taking care of you. I never had anyone to care for."
Hot tears streamed down Rin's cheeks over his fingers. "I'll be with you forever, Matsuoka.
Forever, do you understand? So don't say things like that, okay?"
"Okay."
"Promise."
"I promise," Rin said and Haruka pulled him to his chest, two bodies a better heater against
the cool water. Two mouths coming together violently—the best resolution of arguments
since the foundation of mankind. "I promise. Everything you want me to, I'll do."
"Then don't think of that boy anymore. You didn't hurt him on purpose."
"I can't." Rin gasped, lips swollen.
"Of course you can."
"I hurt him. I crippled him, Haru. God, he hates me so much." Rin laughed, eyes going hazy,
remembering. "I hope I'll live long enough to see you on TV, failing race after race, so I can
watch you lose everything like I did. I pray every day that you'll end up all alone and broken
like you made me be. I wish I could see that on TV, too. Don't ever contact me again, I will
never, as long as I'm alive, forgive you. Just give it up already—that's what he wrote me the
last time.
"How am I supposed to not think of it? I know it word by word. He even took the effort to
write it down in hand and send it to me on paper, like it meant more that way."
"Burn that letter."
"What?"
"Burn it. Or give it to me, I'll take care of it."
"I… Haru, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because." Rin hesitated. "That's the only time he acknowledged me. Before that he
pretended I didn't exist."
Haruka stared at the white tiles, breathing in the scent of Rin's desperation; the need for
someone to take Jared's condemnation and throw it somewhere where it wouldn't roast him,
feed on him. A moment of peace, a silence amidst the voices that never hushed. Thoughts
like those weren't eager to leave, though, and Haruka doubted he had means strong enough to
silence them.
"If he hates you, then he hates you. Nothing to do about that. You can't change what others
feel. You tried many times and you failed. He’s decided." Rin was silent in his arms, letting
Haruka rock them. "He's not here, though. I am. And I forgave you. I know what you did and
I forgave you, if that counts for something. Gou forgave you. Nagisa forgave you. Rei
forgave you." Haruka might have seen Rin's eyes for the first time then, so tormented they
were. "Your mom forgave you. Makoto. Jane. Anna, they all did."
Sousuke forgave him, Haruka wanted to add, but bit his tongue.
"Haru."
"If he can't let go, he's the one who's going to pay for it in the end. It'll eat him alive."
Haruka stood up slowly, extricating from Rin's limbs and confused eyes. He thought of his
father and the golden business card that rested in the back pocket of his jeans. He thought of
what he would have to do when a door somewhere close opened and closed with a bang, loud
voices echoing against the tiled walls.
Bare feet tapped against wet tiles, bringing the end of many things, the fear he had been
feeling for quite a time among them. He knew they would come eventually. He knew it, and
so when Hagino's feet halted in the door and then moved forward quickly, Haruka accepted
it.
"Here you are," Hagino said as Haruka's skull hit the wall with a crack. "I hope you didn't
think for a second that I don’t know what you really are. I gave you a chance—such a nice
chance to do what's right and save your sorry ass. But no, you just don’t know your place, do
you?" His fingers squeezed Haruka’s neck with relish. "Hope you had a nice moment with
your faggot lover in here, because it's going to be your last."
Haruka always accepted the pain when it came, but he couldn't accept hands on Rin's
shoulders and back, pushing him to the wall so forcefully he seemed to lose his breath. The
hands that rendered him powerless, the strength of many always better than that of one.
"Hagino-san, are you sure about that? Tatano's right behind that door."
"Shut up. He's alright. He's on our side."
Haruka looked to the side as much as Hagino's paws allowed, seeing all shades of doubt in
his companions, and almost laughed.
Rin's presence was what had always made Haruka cleaner, a better person, so maybe if Rin
watched the first blow that Haruka threw, it wouldn't be so wrong. It would be just another
sacrifice, the blood on the white tiles that was not Haruka's, the shock on all the faces in the
room that were not going to interfere; the pain in his jaw when he didn't cover properly,
because he wasn't a regular brawler, only an adrenaline-filled fool.
The sound that Hagino's mouth made when he couldn’t do anything to protect his face, and
Haruka still couldn't stop, because it was too late to do anything else about this feeling than
burn up with it.
Rin's love was what made him a better person, but it didn't seem to work when his own
shocked eyes scattered from the unmoving bully on the floor to the blood that Haruka almost
bathed in, some of his own, some of it not. When Hirai's light steps halted in a red puddle,
bringing doom on any future they could have ever hoped to have.
"Is he breathing?"
When Haruka looked down, he wasn't sure.

Chapter 18
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
I hope you all have been well during this week! I'm very excited for you all to read this
chapter, because we're slowly but inevitably moving towards the end. We were just
talking with marbled_maven that we can't believe it's going so fast. I'm telling you guys,
I'll cry once this is all over. Anyways, enjoy the chapter and don't forget who did all the
editing - of course my dear friend marbled_maven <3<3
For five days he slept. The Committee's decision was delivered on the sixth: all allegations
dismissed, an approval to participate at the major event of the season given. Every day
Haruka watched the blue of his lip turn into yellow, craved the relief that only pills could
bring, and questioned who was the one who had lost his mind here.
Until then Rin's messages were just like his visits: inquiring on his health, and short. They
watched football once, ate what Rin had brought the other time, before Haruka eventually
returned to bed and fell into dreamless oblivion. When together, they never talked about what
had happened in the showers, about the sword that the Committee held above their heads,
tiptoeing around sharp glass pieces of reality. They kissed on the cheeks only, like children.
They waited.
He missed Sousuke, horribly. He missed the Rin who could actually smile. His own normal
self. He missed them while walking the street to Old Ita's souvenir shop, banging on the
closed door when no one came to open, when he peered through the dark shop windows only
to find it empty, understanding that there wouldn't be hours of easy work which could take
his mind off the upcoming decision.
He still missed all that when water dripped from washed travelling clothes on a rope in the
laundry room, the proof that was somehow still not enough to make Hirai's phone call less of
a dream.
"So? How did it go? What... what did he say?" Rin asked from the door, pensive and
breathless as if he ran all the way here, and Haruka tore his eyes from the drum of a washing
machine. It went on turning his shirts when he grinned and Rin wrapped him in, crushing his
bones, heaving a long sigh into his hair. "We were lucky. God, we were lucky this time. You
dumbass, why couldn't you tell me through the phone? I was going crazy."
"I had to see you."

"Yeah." Rin's smile was relieved. "I almost can't believe it."
"Me neither."
"So we're going after all. We're going to Doha."
"I know." Haruka grinned. Rin's shirt smelled of hope, and future that was not damned after
all, so he pushed his face into it. "Even though we could have just as well not. Hirai said it
was unclear to the very last minute how the Committee was going to rule. It seemed one of
the members was particularly adamant on making me leave the team, he wouldn't hear a thing
about me staying, let alone going to Qatar."
"Shh, it's alright, now."
"Hirai yelled at me throughout the whole phone call, but I do believe he pulled some strings
for me there."
"He must have. However"—Rin stroked Haruka's cheek—"he knows why he does what he
does when it comes to you. If he had to strangle a person or two to get you a chance, I'm
pretty sure he would. What matters to him and what he counts on is that if we go there you'll
win that gold for him."
"How can he be so sure?"
"Because that's what you do—you win. That's just who you are. And now nothing's in your
way, so you'll just smash it like always."
"You're so certain," Haruka said, feeling the craving for the pills getting stronger by the
minute. He needed it to calm his nerves, dim the pain, to dampen the fear that all these people
were rooting for him. Putting their necks on the line only to, at the end of a day, watch him
fail.
"Of course I am, I know you. And I'm going to be there the whole time, right by your side.
Everything's going to be alright. You and I, and that arsehole of a dickhead Hagino, will be
fine soon, too. Have you gone to see him yet? I talked to some guys from the team, and they
said the git looks battered as if he fell under a bus, but there shouldn't be any lasting
consequences."
"Oh... Good."
"He'll probably be out of the hospital before we are back from Qatar."
"Great." Haruka rummaged through the bag of blood-covered clothes that he had avoided for
a week, afraid he knew what was about to come.
"You should go as soon as possible. Tomorrow, maybe? I'll go with you, there's this ice-
cream shop close to the hospital, we can go afterwards." Rin smiled sheepishly. "Well, yeah, I
looked it up."
"You have it all planned out, don't you?"

Rin shrugged. "Why not. Sooner or later, you have to go there. Let's make something good
out of it, at least." Haruka swayed when his hand came out of the bag wet—how could blood
stay liquid after all this time? "Come on, let me help."
"No." Haruka hid it from Rin's eyes when he reached out for the bag.
"What? What's up?"
"They're my clothes."
Rin looked baffled. "Okay… I didn't want to eat them, you know." He chuckled, smile
failing. "Just help wash them."
"No need to. I can do it on my own."
"Haru." A soft voice whispered into his ear, and Haruka hastily wiped his fingers on a dry
piece of clothing. It wouldn't get off his skin—the blood. "I know I've been acting weird
these days, I'm sorry. I didn't know… I was afraid how it would all turn out. It would suck so
much if you… If you lost everything like I did." A tender kiss blessed Haruka's shoulder.
"But not once I thought you were a bad person."
"You didn't?"
Rin shook his head. "Then and there, yeah… for a moment I thought you were going to kill
him. It was—blood was everywhere and you wouldn't stop even though the guys were
screaming." Haruka swallowed, feeling a tremor starting in his hands. "But I know you
wouldn't do that. You're not that kind of person."
"How do you know what kind I am?"
Rin laughed. "I’ve known you almost whole my life. There's little you can surprise me with. "
The taste was coppery when Haruka pushed his tongue into the void where the tooth he had
lost at Hagino's fist used to be. "But what if." He tried to stop his mouth—to no avail. "What
if that's exactly what I wanted to do—to kill him? If I still want to? What if… if I say that I
can't go see him? That I can't be in the same room with him or else it'll happen all over
again?"
"What are you saying?" Rin laughed. Yes, what was he saying, Haruka thought, but couldn't
stop once he started.
"What if I say I don't regret any of it? That what I regret is him being alive?"
"Haru..."
"Would you still say I am not a bad person?"
Rin's face was confused. "You don't regret it?"

Haruka thought of it: of every little pain Hagino put on his body that still felt fresh, every
word he had mocked Rin with. He wondered if Tatano had at least that much dignity in him
to wash the pink dick off Rin's locker. "I don't know. I've been thinking about it all the time.
All week." Haruka looked up, unable to hold it in any longer. "But I don't think I do."
"Nothing at all?"
Haruka shook his head. "He deserved it. And more."
"Deserved it?" Rin laughed weakly, the sound swallowed by the hissing of a washing
machine filling up with water. "You hurt him. He's a fucker, and I don't like him any more
than you do. But the guy… he's got his jaw wired shut and a concussion because of you. He
won't see a pool for months, I'm not even talking about races. You should feel sorry. At least
a bit."
"I knew you would say that."
"Jesus christ, Haru."
"He hurt you. He made you hate swimming."
"It doesn't matter. I don't care," Rin exclaimed. "It's you I'm doing it all for, not me."
Haruka kicked the plastic bag. "You should want it for yourself! I want you to."
"I'm sorry, Haru." Rin shook his head. "But that's not how it is."
"Why? Why can't it be so?"
"Because not everything is just because you want it." Rin squatted to collect clothes that had
fallen out of the bag and pushed them back into it. Haruka blinked—all the blood was
blackened and long dried up. "But at least something we can try to fix."
"I can't go see him." Haruka shuddered. "Please, don't make me." The room was a small
building facility, placed under the ground, dry and cold unless you turned the heating on even
in the warm months. Previously a cellar, it was meant to store things, not to corner people.
Rin shrugged. "Apology is the only right thing to do. It frees you."
"Did it free you?"
"That's different. Mine wasn't accepted."
"What makes you think mine would be?"
Rin looked up from the washing machine. "Didn't you say it didn't matter?"
"So a good person is only allowed to feel sorry for others? A good person doesn't feel anger?
Or hate? Then Jared's a bad person, too."
"What's wrong with you?"
Haruka laughed. "Everything. Nothing. Depends on who's looking."
"You're acting like a total psycho tonight." Rin reached for his phone and wallet on the
window. "Just for your information, it's okay to feel anger. Just not to act on it. I did, and it
cost me everything. You did, and it cost you nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have been allowed
to go, after all."
Haruka stared at the turning drum of the washing machine that Rin had filled moments ago,
watching water turning pink and red and black from his bloodied suit. Just him and the week-
old proof of his lost mind that didn't cost him anything but Rin's approval, his presence, his
light. His sanity, if Rin was right—and he was, because Haruka barely trusted his own senses
anytime he had taken a pill, and when he hadn't—even less.
He gasped when arms wrapped around him from behind. "I thought you had left."
"You were right. I shouldn't leave after every argument," a beloved voice whispered and
Haruka whirled around to dive into the fiery safety. "Hey, watch out." Rin smiled when
Haruka crowded into his shirt—as close as he dared to get to his skin. "You dumbass, you're
going to tear it up."
"You'll see, it'll all be different now that he's gone. It'll be fine."
"Yeah."
"It'll be just you and me and the water again. You'll see how amazing that is. Nothing's
better."
"Fine," Rin breathed, but couldn't say more against the assault on his mouth, his neck, his
hair that Haruka wanted to worship with touches. To scratch the week old patina of dread off
his chest, to relieve the fear of not having any future whatsoever. To celebrate Rin in his arms
instead of what he thought would be a lonely and sad night. "Haru, slow down, okay?"
"Stay with me, tonight. I'll kick Nagisa and Makoto out to Rei's, or we can go to your place."
Rin's neck was sweet under his lips, veins like pulsars of Haruka's universe. "Whatever you
want. Whatever. Anything. I can make you dinner—have you eaten yet? I've got a spare futon
somewhere, god, I'm so happy you're here."
"What are you doing again?" Rin pulled Haruka's hand away from his fly.
"Oh, I wasn't… Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing it." It was automatic, Haruka knew, the way
his body sought Rin's. Each day he dreamt of drinking from it, taking pleasure from what
could be a sanctuary under his hands if it wasn't prohibited, pleasure slipping from under his
fingers like camphor. "But couldn't we… just for a little bit. Something. Maybe?" He curled
his fingers into Rin's shirt. "I don't need it to be perfect. I just want you."
"Haru," Rin sighed.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to." The old dryer moaned under Haruka's weight
when he leaned on it, pulling Rin to him by his wrist. "But don't you want to touch me? I'm
dying to touch you all the time."
"I do, I..."
"Then touch me. I want nothing else. Please."
Rin looked nervous. "What if—what if a neighbor comes?"
"No one will come, it's our condo's turn for laundry tonight." This wasn't a rooftop, not a city
centre with Gou, there wasn't anyone to stare at them. Under the ground a hundred decibels
of washer's rinsing would cover all the things secret. But people's prying eyes weren't the
problem here, Haruka knew.
"We shouldn't." Rin looked torn, not moving his hand an inch from where Haruka had placed
it on his own hip. "This is not right."
"It is. I want it. You can."
"You're still healing from that robbery or something. You have to rest. And this place… this
place is awful."
"But that's not the reason, right?" Haruka smiled, feeling something breaking inside of his
chest. "It's not about sex between you and I—is that how you put it?" He laughed at the way
Rin flushed instantly. "You should see your face now."
"You were eavesdropping? That was a private conversation." Laundry room was small for
three long strides Rin took to get away. "I don't have to explain anything. You've got another
black eye, godammit, and you're barely standing on your legs."
"Whatever, Rin."
"Why are you ruining this? You were happy that I was staying just a second ago. Is this all
you want—all we are—jerking each other off in the laundry? Frotting in the alley?"
"Apparently not."
"You don't have a speck of romance in your body, do you? You know, I don't think I need a
fucking reason for not wanting to fuck between a washer and separate trash bags, or anyplace
you think is enough, but is not."
"Right."
"Do you have a thing for public places, or what?"
"Absolutely."
Rin was seething. "Don't mock me." Three long strides took him to the stairs that creaked
under his weight. The darkness of an unlit corridor swallowed him readily, like the night in
Haruka's mind that even six days of sleep couldn't chase away. Rin's eyes shone like
diamonds. "If you're so eager to get laid, maybe you should go to him. I'm sure he won't turn
you down like he didn't then. You know where his place is, don't you? That's where you
learned to give head, after all."
Rin barely moved in time when a washing soap hit the wall instead of his head. Haruka
flipped a finger at him. "This is what I think of you, now. Get out."
The empty staircase didn't care when he screamed the anger out. The washing machine wept
under his kick, destruction better than thinking, damage of metal instead of his heart. They
broke just as easily though, and when water flooded the floor and drenched Haruka's
sneakers, he knew Rin wouldn't be coming back this time.
Nagisa's gifted satchel with sex aids laughed at him from his backpack when he looked for
the pills. Oh, the irony.
"Haru, is that you? Are you done with laundry?" Nagisa's eyes turned to him as Haruka
entered the condo, the blond innocence, a deceit. "What... Haru? What happened? Are you
angry? What did I do?" he asked Makoto bleakly when Haruka stormed past him.
"Haru, are you alright?" Makoto's eyes fell to the ground where Haruka hadn’t succeeded in
kicking the satchel under his bed. "It wasn't Nagisa who gave you—those things. It was me. I
thought you might need it to stay safe in case you and Rin decided... What happened?"
"I won't need it."
Makoto hesitated. "Want to talk about it?"
"No." Haruka closed his eyes shut.
"Alright… Dinner's almost done. Just come out whenever you're ready."
New pills were round and big just like the moon when Haruka raised them against the night
sky behind the open window, each a perfect fit covering the shiny orb.
"An experiment," he whispered against one of them confined within plastic, recalling it
scratching down his throat so many times before—a glorious salvation. "I'm not even that."
***
Train galloped over the land, flatness of it bothered only by Mount Fuji peaking through the
clouds. Every suburb station, every town took him further from the city, as if mistakes were
easier to forget with distance. The rising Sun a glory on the horizon, it marked the time
Haruka was willing to give; no more than until another sunrise reached Tokyo's windows.
Until then he would wait for silence on the line to end, patiently; no panic, no mindless
banging on Rin's door in the middle of the night. Far away, so he wouldn't go mad from the
pull that Rin had on his heart, from unreturned calls and texts. A minute for both sides to
breathe.
Hundreds of people got on, got off, pushed through the corridor of the train car, walked the
platform. It was better to observe them, listen to empty talk, a touch of madness at the back
of his mind whenever it went on to remember last night.
"Are you, by any chance, on drugs?" His mother's gaze travelled over his face, scrutiny of an
eagle. "You have a peculiar look in your eyes lately. Your pallor is terrible, and you seem to
be constantly in pain."
"What makes you think I would tell you?"
"Touché." She rose from her seat, slight purse to her lips. "I'm only saying it wouldn't do for
you to faint half-way to our destination. It was your idea to go now, after all." She turned
back at him when Haruka didn't automatically follow. "Come, we're getting off the train."
"I thought you bought tickets all the way to Odawara." Haruka glanced at the railroad map on
the wall of the train, Sagami-Ono station was barely halfway to the town his mother had
claimed they were aiming for. "Shouldn't I know by now where we're going?"
"Come, Haruka. And give me your cell phone."
"What?"
Misaki's outstretched hand waited, her eyes narrowed at something on the station platform,
until the car's door hissed and a boy not older than fifteen opened his travelling bag at her
side. She tossed her brand new iphone into it.
"Is this a joke?" Haruka pulled on the strap of his backpack, taking an involuntary step back.
The look on Misaki's face certainly meant she was serious. He glanced at the boy's
suspicious, wide grin. "I'm not giving him anything."
"There's no other way, I'm afraid. They can track us with them. Where we're going, we're
going alone."
"Can't we just turn them off?"
"It doesn't really make a difference. Come on. You'll get it again on our way back."
The young boy smirked at him with his skinny, pimpled face.
"I better."
"You will." Misaki rolled her eyes. "I promise."
"Fine. But I need to make a call first."
"Make it short, we don't have all day to get off the train."
The phone felt heavy in his palm. Hirai—he didn't have to worry about; a rampant blabbering
about fucked-up ideas to travel two days before the race and the need to rest during the taper
hadn't, in fact, occurred at all. The man claimed to have worse things to deal with than
Haruka. No need to call the man again and postpone the inevitable.
Rin's line was occupied this time around.
"Makoto?" Haruka tried not to think of who Rin was talking with instead of him.
"Haru? Is everything alright? How's your trip going?"
"Listen, I might not be reachable until later, there's bad signal over where we're going, so I'll
turn the thing off. Don't make anything of it, if I'm not picking it up, okay?"
The line was silent for a while. "Should I worry?"
"No. I'll be back soon, like I told you. I'll redirect all calls to your phone, if you don't mind.
My trainer knows I'm away, but he might want something. And if... if Rin calls, tell him that
I'll be back before the flight and that I'm alright. Just in case he’s worried. And tell him I...
tell him that I miss him."
"Haru, is everything really alright? I don't quite like how you sound."
"Yes. Thanks, Makoto. For everything. For being my friend."
"Haru? What—"
The boy disappeared in the crowd that filled the train at the station, a clean cut from the
world. He felt naked when Misaki opened the door on the wrong side of the train, let herself
down to the rails and motioned for him to follow. The gravel rattled under his soles as Haruka
stared at the train door that closed behind him, a line crossed, brooding over the fact it would
be just his luck if Rin decided to stop sulking at this very moment and call back only to find
Haruka's phone turned off.
"Who are all these people?" he uttered, walking abreast with his mother when another man
appeared from the shadows and led them through the narrow space between long bodies of
two trains, no word exchanged.
"This world is not very friendly to you and me, thanks to your father. But there are still some
good people out there."
"You won’t happen to tell me what it is you want to show me before I regret coming along?"
"No. Now come, Haruka, our train is moving. Better be fast."
Enoshima lay on the shore, looking out into Sagami bay, on the opposite side from their
original, official destination. A small seaside town filled with tourists, harbour overflowing
with ships and boats. The ocean glittered in the morning Sun, frothy against pearly white
beaches—another pull on Haruka's overloaded heart as he stared through the window of a
taxi. Beyond the bridge a small island watched over the sea, crashing against its rocky sides
—a breathtaking view.
The car pulled in front of a building, and Haruka's eyes scattered over brown facade, white
lining of its windows, a simple majesty of pools and a waterfall carved into the island's rocky
body, almost touching the sea that roared underneath. Rin would have loved it here.
"It's a hotel and spa. Very famous, if I may say, its name is truly deserved. We've been lucky
the place wasn't booked up to the roof. Especially at such short notice." Misaki handed him
her bag to carry after she paid the taxi. "I'm quite sure it's not safe for you to use their
facilities, though, so don't. Come." Her hand was insisting on his arm, a strong hold for such
a small woman. "I will check us in, and you will wait in your room until I return. You are not
allowed to leave it under any circumstances, do you understand?"
"Not allowed?"
"Please, Haruka. This is not a children' game. Tame your residual adolescent urges for a
moment and listen to what I'm saying. For once, trust me that I want to protect you."
"It's quite hard to do that with your history."
Her eyes might have shown something then, a crack in the impeccably controlled lines of her
face, but it was gone before they reached the hotel lobby. The room was spacious, a soft-silk
luxury, blinding white of the sheets swallowing him as he sat down on the bed. A golden cage
that Haruka hated after the very first minutes, imprisoned between silence of the walls and
the roar of his own brain.
Clouds gathered above the ocean outside the balcony, a striking beauty against the dead-
boring TV news running on a loop. In his mind an echo of Rin's laughter, hours of watching
the screen and staring at the moon's reflection on the sea didn't help the loneliness subside
much. He could see how easily Rin could make this room alive if he was here, bright with his
toothy smiles, loud voice, warmth of his pale skin. There wasn't a place immune to that
cocky, stupid, fantastic, sweet idiot, let alone one as romantic as this hotel was designed to
be. Haruka smiled.
God, he was doomed; he pushed his head between his knees and groaned. By the name of
god he didn't know how he was going to keep his hands to himself—it must have been
elaborate torture straight out of hell's workroom. The moment the door lock beeped Haruka
was halfway to losing all remnants of sanity.
"What took you so long?" He jumped as his mother sauntered in. "I thought you were lying
dead somewhere. You've been gone for hours."
"Don't be melodramatic. I had much to do." She entered the bathroom, washed her face with
a towel. Lines around her mouth stood out with fatigue as he stared at her. "We have to stay
the night, I'm afraid, so go to bed. Nothing is going to happen tonight."
"What? I've been waiting here all day. All of it for nothing?"
"I apologize for the inconvenience," Misaki said, roughly missing the fact he wasn't in the
mood for sarcasm. "I’ll take your grievance into consideration next time I try to make the
impossible happen in a day. I thought it was you who insisted it must be now, of all times,
because you have to be back the day after tomorrow."
"We shouldn't have done this. We should have waited until I came back from Qatar."
"Well, it's quite late to say that now. Go to sleep."
Water fell from a faucet when Haruka stared at his own reflection in the bathroom, immune
to its attraction. Shimmering pools outside, deep blue sea all around had been doing nothing
to him, the thought torturing him how easy it would be if he simply didn't show up at the
airport on time. If he just let go, spent a few days swimming in the sea that would cherish his
battered body, let it heal by basking in the Sun, didn't care about a thing in the world—about
races, Haginos, and Hirais, and winning, which was something he apparently always did—
exceptions not allowed.
He slept nothing that night, Misaki's tossing and turning a mark he wasn't the only one
awake. Mornings that you prayed for always took the longest to come. With the Sun rising
she moved around the room, a captive tiger, and when the room's phone rang they both stood
up from where they had been stealthily ignoring each other, and exchanged looks.
"What do you know about Tashimo Pharmaceuticals?" she asked while the elevator ran down
the few levels of the hotel.
"Not much. Father works for their laboratories?"
She nodded. "Worked, past tense, but you're correct. He was contracted as a formulation
scientist for their nanoparticles department. His team was assigned to determine specific
physiochemical properties of drugs and polymers and apply that knowledge to the
development of successful polymer and lipid nanoparticle drug delivery strategies."
"Eh, yeah?" Haruka said, unable to cover his confusion.
"Yes. Tashimo Ph. is a rather small enterprise, unable to compete with big companies like
Pfizer or Johnson & Johnson. A family-like, one would say. It was once a great company to
work for, though. Very nice people."
"Okay... And you're telling me this because?"
"Because I think I figured out why your father left me like he did." Her eyes shone, their
brown light dimmed only by the strength of her immense will. "I know you don't understand.
That's alright. But none of it would have happened if Tsukasa-gumi's oyabum hadn't gone
mad. It's from that point that everything went wrong."
"Oyabum?" Haruka stiffened, remembering he had heard the word from Chang's mouth
before.
She glanced over the main corridor, eyeing the hotel guests that passed them on their way to
the restaurant, eyes glazed over. "Taketchiro Yuri, the oyabum, 'Father' of the yakuza group
Tsukasa-gumi, has been a problematic one since the moment he took reign over the group. Its
main income comes from banking business, of course, but its second biggest interest lies in
pharmaceutical development. A year ago they took control of Toshimo Pharmaceuticals,
Taketchiro's wife becoming a majority shareholder of the company, his brother chairing over
the board of directors. Your father and his team didn't like this development, and for a good
reason, as it turned out.
"I'll spare you the technological explanation. As a side product of your father's research of
Parkinson’s disease treatment, he and his team developed a specific chemical compound that
had several attractive properties, namely it was a very potent central nervous system
stimulant, something like methamphetamine, if you've heard of it." Misaki gave him a look
and Haruka was forced to nod. "I'm sure you have, who doesn't know meth, right? Well, the
production of this compound was easier, also cheaper than for meth. There was only one
thing, and that was that human neurotoxicity was about ten times worse for LEVO, as they
called it.
"They didn't invest much interest in it, spared a very short paragraph of their report to its
development, as I remember from reading it when it first caught their attention—back when
your father let me read everything he wrote—since it proved to be highly devastating to
human health." Haruka blinked, forcing his brain to cooperate when his mother continued
unperturbed. "And here's what I think happened afterwards. Someone from the oyabum's
entourage must have pressed the company and its president to modify LEVO's technical
records so it wouldn't appear as harmful and order it for mass production, everything under
strict confidentiality. It would be exactly what Taketchiro would do—hearing of a potent drug
that could make him a king of the city's underground scene. I'm convinced none of the team
liked it—I knew many members of your father's team personally—they would never allow
such a thing. Nor would he."
"What do you think they did?"
"I think they decided to wipe out all traces of LEVO from the Earth's surface, including all of
the rest of their research."
"That is... Uh, admirable." Haruka huffed. "But how would you know? I mean, it seems..."
"Farfetched, I know. Although, not quite as much after my friends managed to hack into
Toshimo Pharmaceuticals' internal sites and there were no records, specimen' folders, a whole
pharmaceutical dossier for yet another chemical compound, which could possibly lead
somebody to recreate LEVO again—everything was gone, alongside other proofs that your
father's research ever existed. Instead, there are traces of a rather extensive fire in one of their
bigger laboratories throughout all of their systems."
"You think they set the lab on fire?"
"That's what I think. And then they were forced to flee. I suppose your father had it all
planned out already when he spoke to me like that on that day. He is a rather strict person, but
he was never cruel to me before. Not like that one time."
Sunrise poured over the tiled floor when Misaki walked towards the restaurant entrance
stiffly, like a walking doll that couldn't make herself act naturally.
Haruka shook his head. "But why did he leave you behind then? If there was danger, wouldn't
it be safer to take you along, since you were privy to all those documents?"
"There is danger, Haruka. One of his colleagues is already dead. He has been murdered, of
that is no doubt. But they didn't know I read it all, your father has been generally very
secretive about his work. He had no friends apart from me. And no one would suspect we
shared as much as we did. He made sure we were separated, and he couldn't have possibly
known I would never let go of him. Oh." Haruka followed her line of sight, the Sun's rays
falling on a lone figure sitting at the far table. She smiled—the kind of smile Haruka had
never seen on her face. "I haven't seen him in so long."
"Where are you going then?"
She halted on her way to exit and smiled, sadly. "I'm sure you'll manage on your own,
Haruka. You always did."
Haruka blinked, suddenly terrified. He needed a sword and shield to face the surprise in the
vivid blue eyes that moved to him from across the restaurant. A much more rested mind, a
calmer heart. Rin's bravery and Sousuke's smartness, both, things that weren't at his disposal
since he had chased them away.
"Father."
"Have you tried these black radishes, Haruka? Enoshima imports them directly from Europe.
The flavour is very specific, I must say. It is caused by glucosinolates and the enzyme
myrosinase, which combine when chewed to form allyl isothiocyanates. It is also present in
mustard, horseradish, and wasabi. Here, try one."
"No, thank you."
"Don't play coy, have one."
"I know what a radish tastes like."
"I suppose you do. You’ve had your mother's cooking skills at your disposal for some time
now." Mount Fuji emerged on the other side of the bay, overlooking the meeting that could
have waited until another lifetime, a half-empty restaurant. His father looked up sourly. "Why
didn't she come instead? She was supposed to meet me."
"I don't know," Haruka admitted, watching the now empty entrance where she had been
standing.
"I see. I tend to underestimate her. One never knows what she will do next." His smile lacked
cheer, Haruka's heart the right rhythm. "I must say, I didn't expect you of all to be here."
"It's a surprise for both of us." They fell silent until it was unbearable. "I heard what
happened to you."
"Did you? Well, you could say I'm not the most popular person in Japan at the moment."
"They think I'm your accomplice."
His father laughed. "Do they? That seems like a conclusion that Taketchiro would come to.
Some people cannot be reasonable to save their life. He's that kind of a man." He looked over
the ocean. "Very smart, and at the same time lacking common sense. He would never
understand that someone could destroy their life-long work and gain nothing from it." He
sighed. "I can see why you're here, then. It was inevitable. In any case, this isn't a safe place
to have this conversation, we'll have to move to a more secure one soon. I only brought one
man with me. Collect your things if you have some and come—we can talk once we're on the
plane."
"On the plane?" Haruka's eyes scanned the slowly filling restaurant with growing dread.
"Yes, I can only assume that's what your mother wanted, since she's not here and you are. We
should be flying off from Narita in under three hours, if I manage to figure out how to get
you out of the country." They both looked up as a waiter materialized out of thin air and
placed a large envelope on the table in between them. Haruka gaped at the various papers
wearing his own face, an ID with a name he had never heard, an insurance card, and plane
tickets to London, Heathrow. His father guffawed, killing off the very last chance this was a
misunderstanding. "Oh that woman, I always knew why I married her."
"What is this?" Haruka asked, horrified.
"It's just like her to cheat me this way," he said, standing up. "Come, son, what's done cannot
be undone. There is no reason to dawdle, it's dangerous to stay here any longer."
"I—I, what? What?"
His father looked at his wrist watch. "There should be a car waiting for us outside."
The sea bubbled against the island's shore, a hypnotist like this man was with his plane
tickets, cars waiting, words confusing. "I can't go. It's a misunderstanding. I didn't know—she
didn't tell me—I've got a race, soon. I must be there."
Haruka met the hard stare, shocked how his own words suddenly rang true.
"A race?"
"Yes. A competition. I'm—they're counting on me to win, my team, I mean. I can't just up

and away like that. I'm flying off to Qatar the day after tomorrow at seven in the morning, I
can't miss that flight. I haven't even packed my things yet."
"I thought you would be done with that by now. Haruka, isn't it time to put foolish things
behind? You're a grown man now."
Silverware clattered on the floor somewhere, Haruka's heart under the table.
"It's not foolish. I have responsibilities. They're counting on me and I... I'm in a relationship
now, I can't just leave them..."
"So you're putting a swimming competition and an infatuation before your own life? Do you
really think this is why your mother swapped her safety for yours? Are you aware I cannot
take her with me now that all the documents she had prepared wear your face?"
"It's—why are you putting it like that?"
"Because what you want to do is stupid."
People ate peacefully all around, ignoring the cage shrinking around Haruka's life—an iron
lock, a trap that he could blame only himself for falling in. Mount Fuji appeared amidst red
clouds, a bad omen, far away like Rin was from this dreamlike world.
He couldn't leave him, Haruka thought, panicking—for what? A life in a country he didn't
know a thing about, someplace on the other side of the planet. Disappearing without a trace,
no single good-bye to his friends, either, leaving his life halfway when it had been finally
starting to make sense. As if he needed another proof that living without Rin wasn't an
option, his heart slammed against his ribs at the very thought.
"I don't think I'll be able to arrange another opening for you if you decline to come along
now."
"That's alright, I wouldn't accept it, either." The chair scrapped against the tiles when Haruka
jumped up. "I'm sorry. And... thank you for your concern." He bowed slightly, hoping it
would be enough of pleasantries before he ran all the way to Tokyo—forget the train, cars,
planes, just bang on Rin's door before the memory of his laughter faded completely from his
memory.
"Haruka, be reasonable. A safe way back to the city cannot be secured, I cannot guarantee
what would happen if you return back to Tokyo now."
"That's okay, I'll manage somehow."
"Haruka."
"I must go now."
"You have always been a problematic child." The flat voice stopped Haruka mid-step. "You
cried, always cried, days and nights, your mom almost lost her mind. I feared I was going to
lose her because of you. It was a salvation when your grandmother took over you. You have
always lived comfortably, having everything you ever needed. I should have known you
would turn out like this—an ungrateful spunk."
"Just forget me, then," Haruka spat. "I owe you nothing."
The man was shaking with anger. "Oh, with that I cannot agree. You owe me your mother
now. In case those people get to either of you, you're on your own. I won't come on your call.
No one will. So act accordingly, because it will all be your fault."
Two waiters stopped Haruka on his way back, offering their help, as if they could possibly
answer the question of how it was possible to hate someone you wished to, only couldn't,
because it was coded in your blood and bones to love them—traitorous DNA. The sea was
wild under the bridge as he gripped its rails, a fragile silver lining in his heart that there was
someone that truly loved him, cherished him, was waiting for him to come back. A person
who wouldn't leave him behind only because Haruka didn't do as they pleased. No, this
couldn't possibly be that kind of love.
***
Misaki had disappeared into thin air. She was nowhere to be found by the time he returned to
the lobby, determined to take their things and leave immediately, and the room looked
untouched by her presence since they exited it together last time. The restaurant was eerily
empty now that the lonely figure had left the table at the wide panel window and hotel guests
had abandoned their breakfasts for pools and beaches. The bar downstairs didn't open until
later at night, and besides, she wasn't one for drinking.
A receptionist boy looked genuinely sorry that he couldn't help, but he hadn't seen the lady
since last night—she certainly hadn’t checked out of the hotel yet, nor had she paid the fees,
unfortunately—would sir stay for another night, since it was already past lunch? With a
stomach turning into knots and his credit card lighter of a sum he preferred not to think about,
Haruka returned to the room.
He didn't know what to do. Without their phones he had no means to contact her, and while
he was determined to wait as long as possible, by the time the Sun started to turn orange on
the glittering sea, it would soon be too late to catch the last train back to Tokyo. He spent
hours walking about, bothering hotel guests and staff with questions of Misaki's whereabouts,
knowing it was only a matter of time until he ran into the mobs who were after his father.
Later—when the slightly disturbed receptionist asked if he needed to get a police officer to
look for the lady—he sat down on the shore bathed in an early evening breeze and stewed
over it. Would she want him to call the police, or was she going to saunter in late at night
only to murder him for drawing attention to them. What if she had left with his father, after
all?
What if she was dead?
After two hours of travelling by municipal train and another three spent explaining the
situation to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department deputy and filing the missing person
report that he was sure would be thrown into the garbage the moment he left the building,
Haruka hated everything and everyone. The sudden downpour that startled the city soaked
him to the bone by the time he entered his darkened condo, and the last thing he wanted to
find was yet another problem to deal with.
"What is this?" he muttered, fingers grazing over the plastic, duck-taped over what once must
have been his kitchen window. It was little more than a framed hole now. "What the hell is
this?"
"Haru-chan?" A small voice behind his back tore a heavy sigh from Haruka's throat. It was
too much—he couldn't deal with anyone cheerful or happy-go-lucky.
"What's the matter, Nagisa? Why are you not asleep?"
"It is you."
Haruka kneeled to inspect the floor—no signs of broken glass there, too. "What do you
mean? Why wouldn't I be me?"
"You came back?"
"I—what? Of course I came back." He groaned. "Can we have this conversation in the
morning? I haven't slept in days."
"But she said," Nagisa managed before Haruka passed him on his way to the bathroom to get
his thoroughly soaked-up clothes off, making him stop short in his tracks. "She said you
weren’t coming back."
"Who?" He knew the blonde didn't deserve to be snapped at and hated the way the already
huge pink eyes widened even more. "Who said that? Speak now."
"Your—your mom."
"My mother? When did she say that?"
"I... I don't know? Earlier today? In the morning?" Haruka felt himself falling onto a chair
before his knees gave up, and the laughter that trickled from his throat was desperate. He
rubbed his eyelids forcefully until Nagisa decided this shock wasn't enough to prevent him
from continuing. "She told us you unexpectedly got an offer to live with your distant relatives
and had decided to take them up on it. She offered to cover all the expenses Makoto would
have keeping the apartment for the rest of the month." Nagisa was trembling—a small figure
in the dark. "She asked us to pack your things for her to take after you've settled down in
your new home."
"Oh god," Haruka groaned into his hands.
"Yes, Haru-chan. Oh god."
"I... it was a misunderstanding."
"Can you imagine the fit that Makoto threw? Can you imagine Makoto having a fit?"
"Yes?"
"No," Nagisa said. "You can't imagine that."

"Jesus christ, what a mess. Did he break the window?" Haruka asked, trying to feel horrified,
or sorry, but there was only a tremendous, all-consuming relief that she was fine, she was
alive and well, and even though Misaki little deserved his concern, she was his only family.
His responsibility, so he mused he probably shouldn't fly into her room and yell her down for
making these two days a living hell. That could wait until after some sleep and a morning
coffee.
"Say, Haru-chan, have you ever seen Makoto shout at someone? Anyone?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, I did. It's not a nice sight." Haruka looked up at the pyjama-clad figure standing in the
shadows of his kitchen with small hands in fists, shaking violently. Between two breaths he
was on his feet, cradling the messy blonde head to his chest, burrowing soft sobs into his
already soaked shirt. "We thought... we were sure something must have happened to you. We
thought she was lying. You would never leave us like that, would you? Your school. And us.
Something was wrong and Makoto said you must have had a terrible fight with Rin the other
day, and we thought that perhaps—"
"I wouldn't leave like that."
"I know. But your mom wouldn't tell us more, even to Rin when we called him—we were
completely at a loss. She kept repeating that nonsense even after he threw a kitchen chair
through the window."
"He what?" Nagisa's small body felt fragile when Haruka groaned into the soft hair. "Oh, the
arsehole. He's going to pay for that. The landlord barely puts up with us as it is now."
The clock on the wall slowly ticked away, and he felt like staying here in the dark kitchen
with Nagisa in his arms, first friendly face the whole day, rather than face Makoto's tears and
Rin's wrath. But his soaked through clothes must have eventually became too much, and the
blond pulled away, eyes dimmed by the dark and something else.
"You know, Haru," he hesitated, thinking his words through. "We always thought that you
and Rin-chan—that you were somehow meant to be. Me and Rei used to talk a lot about it
back in high school and later. You constantly bickered, but in the end you always gravitated
towards each other. But, you see, now that it's the real deal... It doesn't seem to be doing
either of you much good."
"What are you saying?"
"I mean—I always thought love should make one happy."
"I am happy."
"Are you?" Despite the shadows the pink eyes were bright, watching him solemnly. "Is Rin?"
"You don't know what love is."

"That's possible." Nagisa shrugged, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It would
answer the question of why I'm still single when I'm so very fuckable." His laughter died off
soon. "For real, Haru-chan. Do you think it's smart to keep a relationship alive when all it
brings a person is sorrow? At all costs?"
"That's… that's what love does, sometimes. It's normal. It's a part of it."
"Is it?" Nagisa looked unconvinced. "Is that the way to live through your whole life, though?
Isn't it exhausting—all that drama?"
Haruka faltered. "It must get easier at some point."
"When? How?"
"I don't know," Haruka choked, happy to notice a rustle in Makoto's room, after all. A sad
smile tugged at Nagisa's lips just before the door flew open to reveal a sickly green Makoto.
Haruka breathed in an air of relief.
Wind chimes in the common room sang in the night breeze, the broken window let the chill
in, and Haruka blinked into the dark. Dizzy with sleep, he wondered if the distant sound was
a part of his dream.
"Oh god, he's gonna wake the whole building up. Go open the door, Haru-chan."
The kick he received made him groan, give one back, and finally disentangle from the
suffocating blanket. Well enough on his way to the door another violent buzz made him jump
and freeze in the middle of the genkan. All of a sudden he was frighteningly awake. It made
no sense—how his finger hovered over the button and didn't move to push—what should he
be scared of?
"Open." Rin's electronic voice ordered from downstairs, locked out of the building for as long
as Haruka let him stand there in the cool aftermath of the rain. "Open that door, Nanase. I'm
going to break it down, I swear."
He didn't open. People slept in this condo and they deserved better; deserved to sleep the rest
of the night without being pulled into another fight that was about to drain the rest of his
energy. No sound echoed from the stairs as he descended them barefoot and then watched
raindrops slide down the glass panel of the main door. Rin's shadow shifted when Haruka
stepped into it, hidden by the dark inside, uncertain.
"Open the door, Haru." Glass of the door clunked when Rin's forehead leaned against it, and
so it was settled. "I know you're in there. I can feel you close."
Many things he could bear, but desolation in Rin's voice was not one of them, and so the door
creaked open to let fate inside. It smelled of rain, of mud, and the realization that this meeting
almost didn't happen.
"You dipshit. You fucking son of a bitch." Yellow light of a street lamp drew a mosaic on the
ground around Rin's feet. "You stupid asshole."
Haruka smiled fondly. "I missed you, too."
"You—"
"I know."
Rin's tongue was choking hot in Haruka's mouth then, hands on the sides of his head
alternating between cradling the most gently and crushingly strong. His own fingers in Rin's
damp hair burned with relief, because he would pick a thousand fights with this idiot over
one night without him any day. No amount of safety his parents could have offered him
would get him beyond the ocean, keep him away from Rin crushing him in his arms as if
Haruka could disappear any second.
From the way calluses on Rin's hands felt when Haruka leaned into them, kissed each of his
knuckles. Strong arms moved away to crush his middle then—the loss of them on his cheeks
physically hurt. The press of Rin's face into his stomach when Haruka opened his eyes and
found him kneeling was worse.
"You really want me to lose my mind? You think I'm not crazy enough because of you
already? You have to go out of your way to do this to me? Really? You'd just leave me like
that, wouldn't you?"
"I would never." Haruka swallowed around the lump in his throat, for once in his life happy
he was too tired to get it up as Rin's breath was hot even through the clothes. "It was a
misunderstanding, I promise. I would never leave, not you."
Rin looked up, tired, scared, and oh so beautiful.
"You wouldn't?"
Haruka stroked damp hair from his face, messed up and overgrowing, and shook his head. It
felt like his heart would burst if he didn't wipe desolation from that beloved face, replace it
with firm trust that leaving was out of the question.
"When you wouldn't pick up my calls." Haruka swallowed. "Missing you was worse than—
was the worst. You can sulk whatever you want, that's alright by me. But you just cut me off
and I... I didn't know what to do."
"I'm sorry, I am. All the things I said—god, I don't know what it is with me."
"I would never leave, though. It was really a misunderstanding. My mother got it all wrong."
Rin's eyes were round and fragile. "Where were you?"
"In Enoshima."
Rin blinked. "Enoshima?"

"It's a long story. I'll take you there one day, if I ever earn enough to afford their appetizers."
A tentative smile on Rin's lips disappeared once again into linen of Haruka's pyjamas, and he
sighed, content to simply wait patiently. On the street outside it was raining buckets again,
and his fingers were trying to comb the damp strands into submission. He was more at home
than ever.
"I thought you were gone."
"No." Haruka shook his head. "How can I—what do I do to make you believe I wouldn't
leave? I... you don't know what you mean to me." He stroked pale lobe of an ear with his
thumb, heart galloping over the words he had almost spilled. "Doesn't mean you're not going
to pay for the window, just so you know." The laughter against his stomach was timid and
sweet. "Stay the night? I... I promise I'll be good."
"That"—Rin laughed softly, arms tightening around Haruka minutely—"is quite hard to
believe."
It was strange to turn away while his boyfriend stripped down and changed into Haruka's
spare pyjama bottoms, but worse things had happened in history than platonic relationships.
He gathered his futon from Makoto's room and rolled it on the ground of the common room.
It was a shock when Rin's arms pulled him close, and he shut his eyes firmly against the need
sparking in his body like beginnings of a firework.
He knew that waiting for Rin to change his mind was a disgrace. A betrayal to their love that
might not give Haruka's body everything he needed—no touches, not knowing how it felt
having Rin deep inside or the other way around; moving so fast together that stars wanted to
implode, ashamed for not being the greatest carnage—he was dying to know how it felt.
It was what it was, though. If a friend was all Rin needed at the moment, he would deal with
it. Other people lived like that, and he was once a guy living for water only, not sparing a
thought for carnal things. There must be a way back to that state of mind.
"What happened to you, Haru? Are you alright?"
"No. I don't think so." The urge to deny it immediately was strong, but he was too exhausted
to keep pretending.
"You know. I'm here... Anything you ever want to talk about—I'll listen." The moon stared
down as Haruka pushed his back deeper into the embrace—the first safe place he had been
since he had woken up that day. He shook his head. "You can. I won't tell a soul."
"That's not it."
"Listen, then. I'll tell you something I wouldn't tell anyone else," Rin said. Heart beat loudly
in Haruka's ribcage. "It was a few weeks after the Jared incident. Troy Martin still kept me on
the team then, but he'd been waiting for the first occasion to kick me out. Every day I came
home from training to sit at the computer for hours on end, trying to put together an email for
you, to put some sense into what happened." Rin licked his lips. "I never managed—you
know. How do you say something like that? I was so sure about what you would say if you
knew. I kept trying, but it only got harder as weeks passed by.
"One night I came back from yet another party, stoned and all, and you were sitting on my
couch. All blue eyes and black hair like coal, just the way I imagined you every day, how I
remembered you. I thought I would pass out, right then and there. Then you smiled—and it
wasn't you. That day I realized I would never have you.
"She was nice to me, spent hours at our place, either with Jane, or later just to be around me
—it wasn't that hard to notice. She liked me, but she was cautious. I know Jane warned her of
me, and she's a smart girl. She would have been alright with just friendship." Rin's embrace
tightened around him. "But I couldn't have you, Haru. I couldn't ever have you, and not that I
ever had much hope, but this time it was different. You had your life, your talent, you were
destined for better things. And I... what was I?"
Rin took in a shaky breath, gathering courage. "She didn't want to date anyone. But I went
hard after her, she had little chance with the way she already liked me. It's no one's but my
own fault that she fell for me, Haru, because I was desperate, and mad lonely, and an asshole,
and I made use of her feelings—just to fill the place that only you can fill. That's the kind of a
person I am, Haru. Now you know." Quivering kiss fell on Haruka's earlobe. "I'm not going
to pretend I'm better that I really am anymore, not in front of you. Sleep now. I'm with you.
No one will harm you, my beloved, not on my watch."
Haruka curled into a ball, worn out, but sleep was far from his grasp. For a long time he lay
there, waiting for Rin's breath to even out, only to realize it wouldn't happen. At times,
sprinkling of rain outside swallowed every other sound except the panicking drum of his own
heart.
"I was… seven, I think, that day. It was my birthday," he said, waiting for rustling behind him
to confirm Rin was listening. "They came unannounced, like always. Both him and mother,
which was odd. I hadn’t seen father for four years at that time." A thumb stroked the back of
his hand when he fell silent for too long. "I was ecstatic, I remember it clearly. I thought they
were going to take me home. I thought the time had finally come."
"What happened?"
"They didn't take me home. He wanted to give me my first laboratory set so I could start to
study properly. I asked him when it would happen—when could I come home with them. He
said I'd have to wait a while—their life wasn't for small children like me." Haruka tried to
breathe. "Next time I saw them I was fourteen."
"Jesus."
"It was the day of grandma's funeral. He stayed for the wake and left, mother waited until the
cremation—it was her mother, after all. The night before he came to collect her I asked again.
Are we going home?"
"What did she say?"
"She said their apartment was too small for three, that father needed space for his
experiments. She said I was old enough to live on my own in grandma's house. I was not. I
was not, Rin. I was fourteen." Haruka gritted his teeth. "I had to learn everything—I barely
knew how to cook something edible. Mackerel was the only thing grandma taught me to
prepare before she died, so that was what I ate. That house... that house was small, but it
made so many noises when there was no one but me inside. Sometimes I imagined it was
going to eat me. Skin me alive with silverware and chew me on the kitchen table." Haruka
laughed. "During the day I kept away, but I had to sleep somewhere."
"Haru..."
"One night it was particularly bad. I hid in the bathtub, certain I wasn't going to make it to the
morning. That's when I found out that under water you can't hear a thing. From then I spent
nights in there." Haruka choked on the feeling of wet hotness at the back of his neck—Rin's
tears that fell for him. "With time I stopped being scared. I stopped feeling much of anything.
It was of no use. But old habits remained, I guess. Makoto never understood, but he never
heard this, after all."
In the dead of the darkest night kisses covered his cheeks, nose, eyelids, and he allowed it.
No words could heal this—some wounds were too deep to be reached by them. Some were
even too far to be seen from the surface. Only a patient ear that rested on his chest could
really hear it—if it listened carefully. Over the storm, beyond the heartbeat, a locked door
rattled open on rusty hinges.
Rin's quiet words of love that never stopped through the night flooded withered, dried up
pieces of land where no foot had touched since he was a child. In their stead fields brimmed
with life, subtle and fragile, colourful, scented. And among them, too, a lake of pain that he
didn't have to bathe in alone from now on.
That night he dreamt of walls behind his back and pillows with arms, and when he came to
next morning they were alive, warm, Rin-shaped, and peacefully breathing on his chest. He
was never happier than when he opened his eyes to Misaki's awe-stricken expression above
them.
Chapter End Notes
See you next week, guys. Thank you and take care!
Chapter 19
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
Whatever happened?? I might be just totally spoiled by your awesome comments (which
is probably the case), but not a single one for chapter 18, haha?? It makes me wonder
whether I did something wrong, though. Anyway, I still love you all and wish you a
good week.
As per usual, all credit for editing goes to marbled_maven, I'll be grateful forever and
ever!
The break of dawn came fresh and armed with chirping of birds and dewy air as Haruka
rounded a corner of his kitchen. Misaki was putting a kettle on the stove. She was silent,
wrapped in a thick sweater to keep the chill coming from the broken window off her skin,
and if he expected her to keep quiet before the smell of coffee filled the room, he was proven
wrong.
"Do you ever do what you're told?"
"And you?"
A smile tickled the corner of her mouth. "So it is futile to hope for you to protect yourself."
"It's not me who I'm worried about." This threw her off, Haruka could see—him being
thoughtful was apparently shocking enough to render one speechless. He waved it off. "I'll be
fine, I'm leaving the country anyway. Can you go somewhere for two days until I'm back?
Somewhere safe?"
"I... that could be arranged."
"Fine. I'll ask Makoto to go buy a new cell phone for you, and I'll do the same as soon as I
land in Qatar. You will let me know you're safe as soon as you get the new one. I'll call you
regularly, so don't leave it unattended. I'll be back on Wednesday morning, and we can think
of what to do then."
"That won't be necessary. I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," Haruka grunted, uncomfortable under her stare. "Doesn't mean you have
to. Don't walk around or leave your safe place until I'm back. Understood? Don't put yourself
in more danger—I need to be able to focus on the race—what is it?"
She chuckled, eyeing him curiously. "Nothing. It just came to me that you've changed."
"You don't know me enough for such statements."
"Don't I? One would say a mother always knows her child."
"Not a mother like you."
"I guess," Misaki said, her nostrils flailing slightly, and her eyes stirred towards the common
room from where soft snoring was announcing to the world that Haruka wasn't a lonely man
anymore. "Maybe I would, if you shared important information with me."
"Maybe." Haruka downed the rest of his coffee, fully intending to spend the next twenty
minutes wrapped in the comfortable warmth of Rin's presence in his bed. The anticipation
made his toes crinkle, as if little naughty bubbles sprinkled from the floor and lured him to
his futon—a place he had never thought he could enjoy so much. "Some things are earned,
though, not acquired by giving birth."
She laughed quietly. "How can one acquire this privilege, then? I never seem to get it right."
"I don't know." Haruka shrugged. "Maybe start with being interested, in the first place."
"The window-breaker, is it?" she blurted out as he turned away, hesitantly toying with her
coffee mug. "I can't say I disagree, uhm. He's strongly opinionated, this one. It is possible you
found someone that's able to keep up with you, after all."
"You don't... you don't mind? You don't think it's... you know. Weird?" Haruka shuffled in the
door, unsure of why he sought her approval.
"Since when it is important what I think?" She fought against a smile. Haruka chuckled.
"Stay safe, Misaki."
"You as well... son," she added, cautiously, as if the novelty of the word in the presence of an
actual meaning was too much for her. For them both.
Cuddling was a good part, undoubtedly, but watching Rin going through his morning rituals
—after Haruka hurriedly put together a travelling bag, awkwardly exchanged good-byes with
his mother, and they got back to Rin's room to pick up his things—was better. Watching Rin
brush his teeth was something Haruka didn't think he missed so much, but it was being
allowed to watch him shave that made him giddily happy—in a way that a giggling child
couldn't wait for the next two days to come.
If having Rin by his side in the subway, walking together, seeing his smile up this close was
any indication, this trip was going to be fantastic. Too soon the world around ceased to matter
much, and the impending race became little more than a frightening thought in his mind. His
body ached still, but he had done everything he could to get here, and now cared not if the
unknown crowd of the airport saw him grinning.
"I'm doomed," Rin growled, fishing in his pockets for a passport as they joined the queue for
Gate 10. "I'm totally done for. She will never like me after this."
"Nah. I told you she doesn't care too much."
"That’s easy for you to say. You didn't shout at your mother-in-law like a madman."
"Don't forget the part where you threw the kitchen chair through the window."
"Oh, thank you, kind sir, I would have totally forgotten. Fuck... She thinks I'm crazy, I'm
sure."
"Crazy enough to date me, though."
"There's no one crazy enough to date you. I'm in this for money, you know."
Haruka huffed, stepping forward as the queue moved. "Remind me to not ever marry you.
Since you're apparently only around for my billions."
"Well, you didn't think it was for your lovable character, did you?"
"Oh, cut me some slack. It's not so bad with me. At least I'm quite handsome, some say. From
a certain angle."
"That you are." Rin smiled, leaning closer to share a secret. "And a good kisser, too."
Burning warmth enveloped him, the sweet little praise lifted him off the ground like a balloon
floating above the crowd. When it burst, he hit the floor like a rock.
"Is something the matter?" Rin eyed him with concern, but Haruka shook his head.
"Ah, no. I just thought I saw something."
The queue slowly inched forward, and with every step closer to the gate it was harder to
ignore the feeling at the back of his skull—a look, drilling a hole into his bone. Waiting.
Expecting something. He could tell it wasn't a happy look.
"Eh?" Rin held onto his forearm. "Where are you going, now? We're boarding."
"I'll be right back. I promise, it'll be just a sec. Wait for me on the plane."
"Hey."
People muttered silent curses as he drew through them in the wrong direction, but the crowd
was thick enough that he soon was lost to their irritation. A small kid's cries resonated
through the wide airport waiting room, an old guy scolded what must have been his wife, and
for the first time since Haruka arrived today he noticed the general anxiousness which always
overpowered masses before a flight.
"You," he barked to the unfaltering stare of a devil's eyes. "You haven't got other things to
occupy yourself than me all the time? What do you want?"
Silence that followed made him uneasy—Chang wasn't here to play games, that much Haruka
could tell. He scanned his casual attire: sport jersey, jeans, and baseball cap instead of his
usual impeccable suit. As if anything that Chang wore could possibly dispel the feeling of
danger floating around him; that thing was in his eyes.
"I'm about to board a plane now. I'm not making any trouble, just participating in a swimming
competition. I'm not running away, if that's what bothers you. I'll be back the day after
tomorrow." Haruka squirmed under the pointed stare, sweat beading on his forehead. "What
is it? Speak now, or go away. I'm going to miss my flight."
"Someone of your intelligence cannot call this a polite opening to a conversation."
"You had me beaten, threatened, stalked—obviously. I think we're past politeness at this
point."
Chang gritted his teeth. "Clearly. Otherwise you wouldn't have forgotten the agreement we
had."
"I haven't forgotten. I was never going to act on it."
"Oh, how nice of you to share the fact with me."
"I wouldn't rat my own father out. Or anyone." Haruka wiped his forehead, realizing only
now it had been the truth from the beginning. "You made your intentions about him clear last
time. I won't have anyone killed."
"You ludicrous little boy." Chang sprang from the seats, rows of which were suddenly empty
—people sitting around skittered away like frightened mice. "Loyalty won't help you with
what's to come now. Did you really think word wouldn't get out that you've been seen with
your daddy? Do you think me daft? Or my oyabum?" He took a step closer, breathing into
Haruka’s face. "There's no place you can hide from him. A 50 million yen bounty is on your
and your stupid daddy's head. Half of it—on the heads of your daddy's former colleagues. So
let me ask why all of them are smart enough to disappear and only you are walking around
like a simpleton."
"Don't threaten me. I've got nothing with him anymore, I've never worked for him, never
helped him with anything," Haruka said, watching the throng of people at his gate getting
shorter by the minute. A lonely figure with wide, red eyes failed miserably not to stare their
way. Damn it.
Chang followed his line of sight. "Don't you see it doesn't matter anymore? I lost all my
power the moment oyabum was informed of your meeting with your father and you didn't get
back to us immediately. It's out of my hands now."
"We didn't talk much."
"What does it matter?" Chang cocked his head. "You're already half-dead, standing here.
You're making it so easy for them."
"I don't get it." Haruka raked his hair. He wanted to get rid of this man, of all these people, of
his father's nightmare that followed everywhere he went, poisoning every happy moment
with its venom. This was not how this trip was supposed to go. "I still don't get it. Why are
you here, telling me things? Why are you not handing me to that damned oyabum of yours
instead? Why? Just why?"
"Didn't I make myself clear last time?"
"No, I don't think you did."
Chang took in a long breath and looked sideways.
"I'm trying to keep you alive. For reasons I cannot fully understand myself I’ve felt obligated
to ever since I had to watch Hachiro beat you to a pulp." He crossed his arms, apparently
annoyed with himself. "This is a good job, young Nanase, very good, but it's one thing to
collect money from lieges, wave a knife around a bit for show, and then there's watching a
young boy getting murdered." The mechanical voice of an airport worker urged the last
passengers to board the flight to Qatar. Haruka felt Rin's confused eyes on the side of his
face, but he couldn't look away from Chang's black ones. "It's all in vain, though. I can't
protect you anymore."
"But you—"
"I made the missing persons report disappear, which you filed when you returned to the city.
Stupid. Your lucky star somehow made the deputy call oyabum's house when I was at the
receiver. Do you realize what kind of luck that was? Once-in-a-lifetime fucking kind of luck.
You would have already been swimming in Sumida river face down otherwise.
"I knew where to find you now, they didn't. Yet. I've tracked your movements personally for
quite some time, after all. It's just a matter of hours before someone here at the airport, or
anywhere else, rats you out. Your face is hanging in every office that oyabum has his
influence in."
"I—I'm not afraid of him."
Chang glared from under his ridiculous baseball cap. "You speak like someone who has no
idea how painful death can be. This is not something you should ever try—the things they
picked for you. Run from it as fast as you can."
"But I'll be abroad. I'll make sure—I'll do as you say when I'm back."
"There's no difference for them if you're in the country or not. Bounty hunters know no
borders. Here." A soft clinking drew Haruka's attention as Chang slipped what must have
been keys into his jacket pocket. "It's only a small Suzuki. An old, orange one. It's parked
downstairs at the very back of the parking lot. You can't take a train, they're tracking all the
commute around the city."
"I can't drive."
"I know for a fact that you can, even though you don't have a license. Didn't you use to drive
your grandmother's old truck?"
"That was a long time ago, and I—how do you know all these things about me?"
"Take the route through Yokohama all the way to Kyoto. It's about six hours if you don’t
make any stops on the way. It should be safe to take a flight from there—if you're quick.
Have you got any money on you?"
Haruka tried, but it was impossible to fight the trembling that overtook his limbs, his vision.
He nodded, thinking of the envelope Misaki had given him and then forced him to keep when
Rin had refused the money—she knew all along he would need it; if he took a flight with his
father or on his own. Smart woman.
"I cannot. I have to... I must. There's no other way, I've gotten so far."
"Don't be a fool." Chang cocked his head in Rin's direction. "What will the redhead have
from you if you're six feet underground? Doesn't he enjoy you more alive?"
Haruka blinked, and in that fraction of a second the world was torn apart.
"Good luck, kiddo. Let's hope we both won't pay too high a price for your father's great
morality."
The metal of the keys was cool against his palm, sharp edges like a blade of a knife that
would soon slice his throat. The air was slightly different in the place that Chang had
occupied before he disappeared in the crowd. Drums beat in Haruka's head, in his eyes, in the
very tips of his fingers.
Rin was doing well, charming the girl at the gate desk, but his eyes were desperate when
Haruka halted at his side.
"Oh, fine, he's back. Thank you so much, so, so much, miss, you have no idea how important
that job is for my friend. Without you and your kindness he definitely would have been
fired."
"Really?" the girl asked, perking up at Rin's made up story, eyeing him with interest.
"Really. Absolutely. There's no doubt you've saved him. Us both."

She smiled, dazzled. "I'm always happy to help."
"You did. You helped a lot." Rin pulled Haruka behind like an uncooperative child. "It was a
pleasure to have met you."
"Aww. The pleasure was all mine, sir. Have a nice flight."
"You damned fool." Rin turned at him the moment they rounded the corner of the vacant
airplane boarding ramp. It vibrated with the strength of the plane's engines, right up to
Haruka's wobbly knees. "We've almost missed the flight. What the fuck was that about?"
"I—"
"Come on, the girl's nice, but I can only flirt so much in a day. I'm feeling sick already."
"I have to tell you something. Wait." Haruka pulled on his sleeve. "Rin, wait, please."
"What is it? Can it not wait until we're aboard? The whole damned plane's waiting for us."
"I think," he choked out. "I think I can't go."
"You what?" Rin stopped short, eyeing him apprehensively. "Is this a joke? If it is, it's a very
bad one."
"No, it's not. There's something... I just... can’t."
"Have you gone mad?"
"No, I—I have to go somewhere else."
"Where to?"
Haruka hesitated, Rin's stare too heavy to bear. "I can't tell."
Something crossed Rin's eyes. "Is someone hurt?"
"No."
"Does someone need your presence so much that it can't wait two days?"
Haruka pondered if his life fell under the description. "No."
"So what's this all about?" Rin shook his head. "What do you expect me to do?"
"I don't know. I don't know, really."
"Have you forgotten about Hirai? All he did for you to get you here? His son is in the
hospital, did you know? Oh, I forgot, you've been busy with your trip. So, just to let you
know, his little boy was hit by a car last night, he's in a critical state. Yet the guy's willing to
fly in tomorrow night for us. For you." Rin's finger dug in Haruka's chest. "And you're going
to shit on him instead. For something you can't tell. What's he going to think about that?
What is the Committee going to think?"
"Rin."
"Don't." Rin held up his hand. "I don't care what it is, anymore. Go deal with it, whatever it
is. It's apparently more important. For god's sake." He laughed dryly, turning away. "After
everything we went through, hah."
Haruka watched him walking down the ramp with horror. The air was heavy, thick with
engine fumes and smells of nervous people crossing the ramp every day. Haruka swallowed a
few times to get it down, but it wouldn't budge. The exit was still free behind him, down
there the plane hummed excitedly—a giant steel bee, ready to burst up and away, far from the
airport laying wide around. If only it could go over the Sun and beyond, somewhere where
Rin's words weren't hitting as hard as they were. Where Chang's keys weren't made of acid,
burning through the skin and meat of his hand as if it was made of butter.
"Wait. Wait for me."
He hurried after Rin, pushing the keys deeper into his pocket. He didn't let go of them
afterwards. He held onto them—the last thread of common sense that he was about to cut off
for love.
"Who was that man?" Rin asked inevitably once they were in the air, as if he had to try,
despite not expecting to get an answer, like always—their new normal that Haruka hated with
all his might. Underneath, in a small space of the airport, the orange Suzuki stood parked,
ready to take him away, to save his life.
Haruka looked away from the window and laced his fingers with Rin's. He squeezed and
smiled—his courage flickering in the grey clouds the airplane struggled to get through to
whatever future lay at the end of this road.
"A family friend. No one important."
"Sure." Rin closed his eyes. "He looked like one."
***
Qatar's skyscrapers cradled the Sun on the sky and their people on the ground. Their striking
presence was ever-present like the dangers that followed Haruka everywhere he went. Smiles
were all around: on the streets as they rode the taxi through the city, in the lavish hotel lobby,
on the faces of his fellow competitors who Haruka was supposed to share a hotel room with.
Nice they were, all three of them, very friendly—until the realization dawned on them that
Haruka wasn't up for a game of cards while they waited for a positive check-in to mark their
names on an attendance list; that he wasn't going to join them for dinner or coffee as they
returned afterwards to the darkened hotel room; that he winced at every knock on the door
and unexpected arrival of their trainers, team mates, friends.
That he, in fact, was more likely to occupy their common bathroom most of the time, like the
weirdo they soon had him labelled.
They stopped talking to him, and he didn't mind. None of them could tell him what to do. If
he was hallucinating, seeing shadows in every corner of the hotel corridors or if those were
real, praying for him to look the other way. If someone would be stupid enough to travel the
continent only to take one insignificant guy down, or if they would rather wait for him to land
nice and safe only to have him conveniently disappear amidst the Narita airport crowd. If
they were daring enough to do it in the middle of the pool, or preferred to join him on an
intimate elevator trip. If they would wait until he was alone, or didn't care if Rin saw his brain
smashed over fairly decent mashed potatoes.
If he had gone crazy already.
Staying in the room wasn’t an option soon. Rin would show up, as expected since Haruka
wasn't reachable via phone, which he couldn't force himself to go buy. The hotel was full
with people, though, and no one told him how horrific it would be to spend slowly crawling
hours in the most random place he could find—a small alcove next to the elevator. With
nothing to occupy him but his thoughts. Haruka kept convincing himself and the moon up in
the dark sky that staying away from people was the best way to keep them safe. Rin's smile
on his mind didn't make it any easier. Morning found him blinking the dream away, sore all
over from the chair, surprised that he had slept at all.
"So here you are." Haruka jumped at a voice from above that he expected the least.
Rin laughed with relief, covering his face with his palms.
"How did you find me?"
"Either I know you, or I searched the whole damned hotel from the bottom to the top. Which
one is it, what do you think?" Rin's eyes were tired, sad. "I'm not even asking. Come, we
have to go warm-up." He glared at Haruka as he lamely stood next to him, accepting a bag
with his own swimming gear. "That is, if you plan to swim at all, today."
"I do. I think."
"Right."
"In which heat will I swim?" Haruka tried to focus on the row of starter blocks of the
National aquatic centre, but they swam before his eyes.
"I don't know." The late afternoon sunlight glowed on Rin's goggles when he tore them off of
his eyes. "They wouldn't tell me at the check-in. Said you should've come yourself to get the
information. I considered forging your signature on the list, but I figured I don't want to get
banned from swimming for the rest of my life because of something you can't tell me about.
Hey, miss." Rin reached for a tall, young girl wearing a FINA marked T-shirt who was
walking past them. "Could you please tell us what heat we'll be swimming?"
"You weren't at the check-in yesterday?"
"Mr. Nanase wasn't." Rin coughed. "He felt ill."
"May I have your full name, sir?"
"Nanase Haruka," Rin responded, stepping closer before Haruka as much as opened his
mouth, and smiled when the girl eyed him curiously. "My apologies, but he doesn't speak
English."
"Oh, alright. There seems to be a small inconvenience, though. I cannot find Mr. Nanase's
name on any of my lists." She looked up from her papers and smiled encouragingly. "Things
like that happen all the time. I’ll see to the problem ASAP and deliver the heat sheet later so
he’ll know which one he will participate in this afternoon. For the warm-up, however, he can
take any of the free lines."
"Thank you. Oh, and Miss, he doesn't have a cell phone, could you please inform me
instead."
"I'm afraid that would be prohibited. If he can come around the office, we will gladly tell him
everything."
With one last smile the girl vanished, leaving behind a feeling that this was a weird,
confusing dream.
"Some bureaucratic shit, she didn't have your name on the list," Rin said Haruka's way,
pulling the goggles down to his eyes. "Just take whatever line is free. And, yeah—Hirai has
been pestering me all day long. He wants to speak to you the moment he lands down, said
you should be available unless you want to have your balls ripped off—those were his exact
words, by the way, but I share the sentiment. So don't go running away again."
"I won't." Haruka forced his hand not to shake as he reached for Rin's shoulder and hoped the
smile he pulled was genuine, if not reflected on Rin's own features. "Good luck."
"Yeah. To you too."
Other swimmers assembled at their respective starting blocks, the referee laughed with
somebody before waving them to take their places, and Haruka walked to the unoccupied
block with the feeling some of the bullets had already reached his chest. He was out in the
open, unarmed, almost naked. Defenseless. There was no way to hide, nor pretend his hands
weren't shaking like crazy when goggle-covered red eyes checked from three blocks away if
he was ready to jump.
He wasn't. But he had made it this far, he had made it this far, and yes, chancing a bullet
through his skull might not be the most reasonable way to prove his love to anyone. But it
was certainly romantic, and of that Rin would surely approve.
A whistle sang once and he took position.
Two hours later it became clear that slipping from under Rin's sight again was impossible.
Waiting for Haruka outside the bathroom door, changing seats to sit closer when Haruka took
the opposite one at the table, he was the best friend, teammate, and partner that anyone could
dream about. Placing food in front of Haruka again and again, even though the mere thought
of eating turned him instantly green.
Putting any physical space between Rin and him, to keep him safely away—it was
impossible without telling the whole truth. Six times Haruka opened his mouth while Rin was
talking about something, six times he closed it instead. Struggling was harder with Rin's eyes
on him every time silence fell between them, silently urging to share everything there was, to
lay the burden on him instead of these meaningless talks.
Some things were too crazy to say out loud, too surreal with all the perked, chatting people
on the sun-lit hotel terrace, in the natatorium that buzzed with the nervous energy of an
upcoming event. Italian backstroke style was a more believable topic, nodding along when
Australian swimmers joined their table for a chat with Rin made some sense. And when the
clock on the wall announced it was time to walk to the FINA office, all of a sudden it was too
late for difficult conversations anyway. Haruka walked the corridors of the National Aquatic
Centre with a guilty kind of relief that always overwhelms those who have no courage to
have one.
At least Rin thought him mature enough to find the office without disappearing after he had
promised so. It felt like betrayal to be relieved when he was finally out of his sight, but
Haruka had resigned to too many feelings that day to be bothered by this one. He knocked
and pushed the office door open, because there was no other way than to step up on the
starting block in a short while and swim his best. For Rin, for himself—he could well enough
enjoy the race when he could be just as well dead by this time tomorrow.
"How may I help you?" an older man with glasses perched on his nose asked, then listened
with a smile while Haruka explained his situation. With a nod he rose. "Very well, let me
fetch my colleague. She handles all the assignments."
"Should I wait here?"
"Sure, I'll be right back."
The promise turned doubtful after the first twenty minutes of staring at the pictures of the
man's family on the wall, empty after another fifteen. Haruka all but jumped from the
uncomfortable sofa when the man entered an adjacent office, parted from the one that Haruka
was in by a strong glass wall. A tall woman wearing a serious expression followed him, and
they both ignored him completely. She picked up a phone receiver, stuck it between her ear
and shoulder and talked animatedly while they both studied something in the papers the man
held in his hands. She placed the phone down and a shiver ran down Haruka's spine when she
pointed vaguely in his direction and the man nodded along.
Red digits on the man's table showed it was barely twenty-five minutes before the first
freestyle long course heat began. Rin was in that one, and while Haruka didn't necessarily
have to be in the same, he needed some time to calm down. To refocus on water, to feel the
world around shrink to the small space of the pool under his feet.
He startled when the man entered the office. The peculiar expression he wore made him
uneasy.
"Apologies you had to wait so long, sir. Ehm... We've just been informed that your trainer has
arrived." The man shifted on his feet. "He asked us to handle all further information directly
through him. You should be able to find him downstairs in the staff room, or with your
teammates in the locker rooms."
"Is that it?" Haruka asked, irritated. This was why he had been waiting here for almost an
hour?
"I'm afraid so."
He shut the door loudly behind him, stomping down the corridor as if it could erase the man's
sorry expression from his memory. The smell of chlorine and adrenaline hit his nose, stronger
as he descended quickly to the depths of the building, becoming almost nauseating in the
staff room this close to the natatorium.
His heart beat loudly in his chest despite his best effort to calm it down. The room was filled
with laughter and excited chatter when he burst in, drawing several looks his way. Journalists
were already halfway through interviewing winners of the previous races as he tried to push
through the crowd. He got a glimpse of Troy Martin in the corner—the Australian trainer he
had skyped with what felt like ages ago, the one that threw Rin off of his team. Hirai wasn't
there.
Locker rooms overflowed with multi-national swimmers readying for their races, walking in,
running out of the doors in a frenetic manner. With every corner that Hirai was not behind,
every head that shook on him that they hadn't seen the man, Haruka's pulse beat a little bit
quicker, little bit more uneven.
When a voice from the speaker flooded the natatorium, instructing athletes to gather for a
freestyle heat, he found himself stuck looking through the small window of a locker room.
Rin was recognizable between a thousand other swimmers, men, people. Posture resignedly
slumped. His face was lost in the shadow of a fear that he had battled for too long all alone.
Haruka's hand gripped the handle of the door that he theoretically had no right to open if he
wasn't racing in this heat. But Rin couldn't go into this fearing he wasn't good enough.
"Don't open it, Nanase-san."

Haruka spun around, facing Hirai, and breathed out in relief. "I'll just drop in and talk to him
for a second. I'll be right back, no one will notice."
"I'm afraid I can't allow it."
"Yeah, I know the rules. But look at him." Haruka pointed his shaking finger through the
glass of the door. "He's not ready, I need to talk to him."
"Step away from the door, sir. Please." A giant man wearing a security badge took a
meaningful step from behind Hirai's small frame. Haruka searched Hirai's oddly blank face.
"What is this about? Did something happen?"
"You tested positive for Oxycodone in the urine test yesterday." He held up his hand when
Haruka opened his mouth. "I tried to pull your name down from the list as soon as I was
informed, but they couldn't get to me fast enough and the word got out. You've gotten a six-
month drug ban."
"What?" Haruka breathed.
"I know. It's not a performance-enhancing drug. It's still a banned narcotic, though, and you
have been aware of that. Doctor Kadowaki assured me he had informed you thoroughly of its
effects, and yet the hospital confirmed that you asked for a second dose two weeks ago,
stating unmanageable pain."
"I..."
Hirai looked down at his feet, his composure suddenly crumbling. "In retrospect, it explains a
lot. Oxycodone can be a cause of aggressive behaviour."
"I'm not an addict," Haruka whispered, taking a wobbly step closer. "It's not like that. You
don't believe it yourself. I was injured, but it—I haven't been taking it anymore. I just needed
it for a little while. I'm not like that. It's Hagino's fault. He's been a jerk, he provoked me for
weeks."
Hirai smiled sadly. "It can also cause hallucinations."
"Hah." Haruka gave a hysterical laugh, whirling around to watch Rin walking among the
other swimmers to his starting block. "Does he know?"
"Yes. Matsuoka-san has been informed of this."
"How does he—what did he say?" Haruka whispered for the glass to hear.
"He took the information rather hard. His performance today will certainly be influenced.
Nevertheless... I'm going to do what I can to keep this information from Hagino-san's family,
since they already stated they intended to put forth appropriate legal actions. Considering all
these events together, though." Hirai paused when his eyes met Haruka's. "If it was only for
this, Nanase-san... But I'm afraid my support isn't enough to keep the principal from drawing
consequences this time. He stated through the phone call a moment ago that you should
probably... That it would be for the best if you retired from the team.
"I would've told you sooner, but you were out of reach all this time. They were supposed to
tell you at the check-in, but you didn't show up either."
The natatorium roared as one racer after another waved to the audience, filling the silence
that fell on the oddly ringing stillness of the corridor.
"I can't swim?" Haruka asked, voice breaking. "Ever?"
Hirai sighed behind him. "Nanase-san, boy... Swimming is the least you should worry about
now. You’ll be lucky if you're not expelled from the school entirely."
His breath misted the glass, and beyond it Rin was taking his position before the jump. He
didn't snap his goggles like usual, and it was all wrong—as wrong as Hirai when he thought
swimming wasn't everything. The whistle blew in the charged silence and Rin moved, too
slow, too late alongside swimmers that he didn't love, hadn’t put his trust into.
Haruka whirled around, unable to watch.
Steps moved under his feet as he climbed the building to get to the open air. Outside, he
thought, invisible hands wouldn't be choking him, wouldn't be pushing him down harder than
gravity. The sky snapped with a blinding flash and he thought it was finally the end, but it
was only a photographer snatching a picture of the fallen Japanese freestyle hero.
He laughed—he still had his luck with him when it wasn't a gun pointing at his heart. He ran.
And perhaps running away had never helped with anything, but sometimes it was the last
haven of the hounded. He could figure how to fight again once he got to the hotel, to his
room, to the solitude of four walls.
A greek roommate fled through the door the moment he saw Haruka's face. He couldn't
blame him. He must look crazy, he must be crazy—ripping a lamp off the wall and throwing
it, not caring one bit where it landed; kicking a chair at the table and still not being satisfied
with the result until there was but debris all around, and he couldn't move anymore, only slide
against the wall to the cold floor.
He certainly wasn't alright. Surely not enough time had passed before he heard the steps he
would recognize anywhere in the world. But Rin entered anyway, unhurriedly walked past
Haruka as if he didn't even see him, and halted in the middle of the broken room.
"I came to murder you, but I see you've started on your own."
"I'm not an addict," Haruka snapped from his shadow in the corner.
"That's what you're saying. And you know what? Yesterday I would've believed you. But
you've been a completely different person these days."
"That is not the reason."

"What is, then. Because to me it looks like you've been going through severe withdrawal."
Rin wiped his face. "I can't believe I didn't see this coming. How could I overlook it? God."
"I'm not addicted," Haruka barked. "I had to take something if I wanted to be able to train.
You have no idea how much it hurt, how fucking much it ached everywhere." Tears prickled
at the back of his ears, but he pushed them away hard. "But I'm off of them, now. I haven't
taken one in a week. I went to get the new dose, but I couldn't—I was too afraid they'd slow
my times in the pool."
"Are you on something else instead then?"
"No, jesus, where are you getting this from? I'm not that stupid. I wouldn't come here if that
was the case."
Rin looked at him sideways. "I recall you didn't want to."
Haruka took in a breath to calm himself. "That's not it. I... I've got some problems."
"No shit."
"Shut up," Haruka burst out. "I haven't been risking my life for you to be sassy. There's
people hunting me down for something my father did to them, I can't run away from it no
matter where I go, or what I do, so pardon me for acting weird. Still, here I am, proving
myself to you for whatever reason, since you're not even trying to trust me." He choked,
losing breath altogether under Rin's blank stare. "They can come anytime, and I can't even
leave you, or push you away to keep you safe. It's a lost battle."
"They, Haru? Who, they?" Rin asked and motioned around the broken room. "Did they do
this, too?"
"No. That was me."
"Who was that man at the airport?" Rin lowered his head. "Is he your dealer?"
"What? No. Nothing like that!"
"I saw him give you something."
"It wasn't drugs. It was car keys."
"What car?"
"The one he wanted me to take to run away from Tokyo before these people came after me. I
know how it sounds, but I was supposed to get to Kyoto and then fly away from there. It's
true, it really is."
Rin looked defeated. "Haru, you can't drive."
Scattered pieces of Haruka's life reflected the room as someone knocked on the door and
called his name, making him jump in fright. The sound faded out under Rin's pitying gaze.
"It's just people from the papers. Oh, god, you really do believe all the things you're saying.
Haru, please." The broken look on his face was too much. "So where are they, then? Where
have they been all day that I’ve been sitting with you on the hotel terrace? I didn't see a
person giving you so much as a second look. Should I tell you what it looks like to me?" He
breathed hard. "To me it looks like you've been battling something for weeks. Then you came
back from a trip with your mother and you were better… almost normal. What kind of
facility was it there, Haru? Were you hospitalized? Then a man at the airport gives you
something and suddenly you're odd again. You disappear, you hide. You can't eat, or sleep.
You're paranoid."
"I'm not crazy," Haruka yelled. "I'm not under the influence. Can't you tell? I would've tested
positive for something else besides Oxycodone, wouldn't I?
"We gave our samples right after arrival. You could have taken what he gave you anytime
after."
"For god's sake, Rin. I'm not lying. I'm not making this all up. I'm telling you the truth,"
Haruka pleaded and gasped. In the midst of the grey, dull room, a ray of golden sunshine
blinded him momentarily. "Oh my god," he whispered, and his shaking hand reached out
before Rin could snatch the golden orb that hung loosely from his fingers away. "What is
this?"
He searched Rin's empty face for confirmation, kneeling at his feet.
"What do you think it is?"
He choked out a laugh. "You won? You fucking won?"
"You even swear now?"
"You won—you won gold?"
"You're saying it as if it's a miracle."
"No. Yes. It is a miracle, but not because of what you think." Haruka scrambled to his feet.
"I've always known you were the best. You're incredible. I've always known that you would
make it one day. You're gold, hah, that's fantastic."
"I won this out of sheer anger at you, Haru. I don't know in what world that’s fantastic. Here."
Haruka watched the golden medal roll on the ground like an overgrown coin. "You can keep
it. Or throw it away. Do whatever you want with it. It's your win."
Haruka stared at it for a minute, unable to believe what he was holding in his hands.
"You drama queen." He laughed and put the colourful ribbon around Rin's neck. "Can we just
stop here for a second and acknowledge the fact that you just won yourself a damn medal?"
Light-headed, he giggled wetly. "You can always hate me later."
Rin snatched the metal from where Haruka's fingers kept turning it against his chest, but he
didn't attempt to pull it off his neck either. "I don't hate you, Nanase. You're trying your best
to make me, but I don't."
"I'm not trying. It's a natural talent." Haruka hid a smile in the wet hair of the one and only
man that could make fireworks of happiness in his chest when his whole life was falling to
pieces. The only one that was willing to put his arms around Haruka, even though trusting
him was harder than winning first place in a world-class event. "I only wish you could
believe me."
"I wish, too."
Rin's forehead was hot against his. Behind the door the ruckus intensified, people shouted
one over another, called both their names. Cameras ready, journalists hungry to get a piece of
the best and the worst of the Japanese nation together—celebrating or sharing an intimate
moment, who knew. A juicy story of a great, epic friendship suited for a front page.
"What's going to happen now?"
"I don't know," Haruka mouthed against Rin's shirt, soaked up with water that poured from
the heart of his broken, trashed dreams. "Just be there for it. Just be there with me, okay? All
the way to the end."
Long fingers curled around the silver chain hanging on Haruka's neck, pulling two pendants
closer together.
"God help me, I'll try. I'll try my best."
***
Early summer was heating up night-clad Tokyo when they returned, leaving Haruka without
energy to hold his hands up to cover his eyes against the flashes of a thousand cameras.
Being the shameful face plastered on every corner of the city, every article that his new cell
phone kept informing him of, had one benefit: no one was going to put a bullet through his
head while the whole nation was watching. When a Japanese hero was walking protectively
by his side.
Chang's people were still there, waiting, lurking in the dark, but with every passing hour they
seemed more like a dream. Until the ruckus settled he could walk around freely, his mother
could come back. Haruka intended to make use of it the night Makoto scheduled Rin's
celebratory party. It was funny—how everyone avoided the topic. Nagisa with his usual
cheer, Rei with the stoic calm of a sea that didn't care for little things like destroyed careers.
Makoto with frenetic caring, Gou with slightly tighter hugs. Misaki with impenetrable
silence.
"So." Nagisa laughed over the noise of the bar, shushing their table with a sparkling glass in
his hand. He cleared his throat. "Here we go, everybody, pick your champagne up. Here's to
the very best friend, the great man who apparently can swim a little bit, to the amazing
person, to... Ehm, what was his name again?" Haruka laughed politely with others, giving his
and Rin's joined hands on the table a small squeeze. "Okay, okay, jokes aside, guys. I want to
drink up to Rin, tonight. We're all incredibly proud of being his friends, happy that we are
allowed to share this moment with him, and also a little bit jealous that he's the only celebrity
in the room."
Rin lifted his free hand as the laughter faded away. "Drink and eat, guys, everything's on me.
Moderately, okay? I can kind of afford it now, but don't ruin me even before the money gets
to my account."
Ceiling lights danced on the glasses, the platters, sliding over the deep wood of the bar's wall
panelling to the red of Haruka's wine; across the faces of his friends, plastered with smiles
that he wished desperately to feel, too. He was so tired. Of them, of this theatre play
pretending that there weren't photographers waiting outside the door, forcing his friends
deeper into this awful, sweaty, smoke-filled place. Of trying to believe that Rin's amazing
success could somehow overshadow the fact that Haruka wasn't ever going to race again; that
he was a disappointment, someone that his own country couldn't look at without a cringe. An
abomination.
Perhaps he shouldn't have drank, after all. He could never hold his liquor well, and as the
evening processed with every new glass that he ordered the line of Rin's mouth turned a little
thinner, his mood a little more sour.
At least he wasn't alone. Anna had been tipsy about two glasses of whatever she drank ago,
and Haruka relished in that while he listened to subdued conversations around the table, not
really engaging in anything beyond the pretty, tall bottle of expensive booze in front of him.
It was beautiful how it burned his throat, washing an acidic feeling in his chest away. And
perhaps in Anna's, too, judging by the woozy smile she finally, finally turned his way.
At last—he couldn't wait for this to happen already.
"Well? When are we going to address the enormous elephant in the room? Who's going to
start?" She giggled, a glass in her hand tipped precariously, and Haruka closed his eyes in
relief.
"Annie."
"No, let her." Haruka pressed against Rin's side, watching her with amusement. This was
going to be so much fun.
"By all means, Rin, let me. Do what your boyfriend tells you. You always do, don't you?" She
grinned. "Does anybody know where Yamazaki-san is tonight? Where else, for crying out
loud, can he be than celebrating his best friend's great win? Anyone? Maybe Haruka-san has
something to share on the matter."
Haruka laughed, gulping down the remnants of his glass. He really needed another one.
"I assume he doesn't, then."

"Stop it," Rin spat, but she only cocked her head, happy having all attention on her. "You're
drunk."
"So observant. Hope you noticed I'm not the only one." Haruka lifted his once-again full
glass to cheer her on.
"If you decided to be obnoxious, Anna, go outside. I am celebrating now."
"Oh, you're celebrating, are you? Is that why you’ve been so angry the whole night? Or why
you haven't touched your food or had a single drink?" Haruka blinked at Rin's full platter,
noticing for the first time.
"I'm not angry."
"Angry, upset, anxious. Whatever."
"I'm having a good time, Anna. And you should, too, for my sake."
"Oh, I would. I so would, but it's kind of difficult to celebrate when I can barely hear my
thoughts over the paparazzi skulking about. I wonder what today's news will be. One would
almost hope they'd finally come up with something different than 'A gold medalist under the
Committee's revision' or 'The Oxycodone case casts shadow of doubt on Japanese gold.
Investigation in process'." She looked around the awkward, silent faces around the table,
merriment gone from the party. "Perhaps something like 'The hero and the villain—a secret
affair?' would be more interesting this time."
"Haru's not a villain," Rin snarled, crushing his fingers into Haruka's palm so hard it hurt.
Anna put her glass down, spilling a little on her pristine, yellow dress.
"Tell yourself whatever you want. It's what you do best."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just wondering when are you finally going to realize he's been deceiving you like
he's deceived the whole nation."
"He's not deceiving. He's sick!"
Haruka gasped, Rin's nails biting into his flesh like knives.
Anna laughed. "That he is, isn't he? He's so sick he even made you believe you're just as sick
as him."
The explosion around the table must surely have been visible through the bar's window, but
Haruka couldn't care less. He guffawed, stabbing pain rolling in the pit of his stomach. "Don't
ever go there," Rin hissed when Makoto finally sat back, face red with fury. Rei looked like
he was ready to strike someone, Gou on the verge of passing out. "Don't ever say something
like that again, or I won't say another word to you as long as I'm alive."
"Is that so?" Tears gathered in her eyes. "How convenient. Isn't that what you wanted to do,
anyway? To send me away?"
"You shouldn't have come. I told you not to."
"No, I shouldn't have," Anna agreed, rising from her chair, admirably steady despite the
amount she had drunk. "But I had to. Because someone—someone must tell you. Must tell
you that one day you're going to wake up from this." She pointed at Haruka. "And you're
going to realize how much it cost you. How much of a fool you were to the whole world."
"But I don't care," Rin said, voice dropping. "I don't care. Enough with this, Annie. For how
long are we going to dance around this? I don't give a shit what other people think. What you
think. What the world thinks. It's not like I'm going to swim ever again. I just don't care."
"Ah. What?" Anna asked, taken aback. Haruka's eyes snapped to Rin's face. All traces of
previous anger were gone, only resigned calmness remained.
"It's him. It's him or nothing. There is no other way for me. I don't want anything else. I've
never wanted. Stop with these delusions. Wake the fuck up." The pitying smile on his face
made Haruka's heart twitch. "Yes, there was a time when I thought I could feel something for
you, back in Sydney when I couldn't remember him properly. I thought you would be enough.
You're not, though. Nobody is. You know I did this all for him. And even—even if I didn't
have him anymore, even if there really was no other way, I would never go back to you, or to
anyone else."
"That—that's ridiculous. It's not one person or nothing. You can't throw your life away for
him. It doesn't work like that."
"It does for me," Rin said. "You just don't understand, because you've never fought for
anything."
"Oh, have I not, you ungrateful brat! And what about now? I'm fighting for you."
"No. You're making a fool of yourself."
"I… " She looked stricken. "I'm trying to save you."
"I don't need saving."
"But… you've been blinded."
"Annie, please." Jane's voice was a soft breeze, and Haruka wondered if she heard it. "Let
them be. This is not your fight anymore."
"You." Anna smiled wetly at her. "You're on their side, aren't you? You've been on board with
this insanity all along."
"I'm on your side. Annie. Always," Jane whispered.

"No, you're not. I wonder how much you helped this happen." Jane lowered her gaze and
Anna laughed sharply, making the whole table wince. "I'm not even surprised. I had my
suspicions, so I guess I know now for sure. You traitor. And you say he's like a brother to
you."
Haruka pushed his face into Rin's neck, knowing there would be pictures taken by other
visitors at the bar, plastered all over the media tomorrow, but not caring. He couldn't stand
these tears, they made him feel sick.
"Maybe I am blinded," Rin said, cupping the side of Haruka's head. "But I've been that way
since I was a kid. Since I saw Haru for the first time. The moment I found what my heart was
for, it belonged to him. You want me to tear it out and throw it at his feet? In front of all our
friends?"
"No." Anna shook her head in disbelief, taking a step backwards.
"Because I would. I don't care if they see. They already know."
"You're pathetic. Deranged!"
"You think you love me, Annie? What I feel for him is a thousand times stronger than what
you ever felt for anyone. A billion times."
"Don't you dare compare our feelings," she spat.
"Why not? It's as it is."
"Because yours is a sin!" she yelled, tipping bottles on the adjacent table over. Their contents
spilled over the white cloth—a golden flood. "I would have born children for you. He will
only bring you hell."
"Get out." Rin closed his eyes. "Get out. Don't ever show your face in front of me."
Anna gaped at him. "You wouldn't."
"I just did."
"You wouldn't."
"Watch me."
The tongue in Haruka's mouth was punishing, hard and insisting, hands keeping his head in
place impossible to fight off in his drunken haze. This wasn't right—the awe-stricken gasps
around the bar that he could go without, the sound of a broken sob that pulled on his heart,
too. Booze could do only so much to desensitize, to make him un-see disapproval in
Makoto's eyes, or shock in Gou's. To dissipate the sad smell of champagne spilled on the
stinky carpet where Anna had been standing just a moment ago.
"Jesus, Rin," Gou breathed. "That was just horrible."

Alcohol could also not quench the fire that went ablaze in Haruka under Rin's mouth—like
now, like always—even as he found his own legs running unsteadily down the street after
cascades of long black hair flipping in the wind.
"What do you want?" Anna whirled around when she had nowhere to run. "What do you
want that you already don't have?"
Haruka panted hard, not knowing the answer.
"You have everything I have ever had. You already stole everything from me—the love of my
life, my best friend, what more do you want? I hope you're happy."
"I'm not happy about tonight."
"Aren't you?"
"No."
"Did you realize?" She wiped on her running nose with a sleeve of her expensive jumper.
"That we have come a full circle, you and I? A restaurant, yours and Rin's friends, all of us
around the table talking about Rin's swimming? Only with me on the wrong side this time."
"You know Rin didn't mean that. What he said." Haruka swallowed the bile in his throat. "He
was just angry at you. You... you're important to him." She laughed—a broken little sound. "I
mean it. Tomorrow he's going to wake up and hate himself for tonight."
"No, he'll hate you. And for that it was worth it."
The night was warm and humid around her hunched shoulders when she turned away and
walked down the dark pavement. Alone, another victim to this love of his.
"I don't wish you bad, you know," he said. "Despite everything I did to you."
She bowed a little. "Enjoy it, Haruka. Enjoy, while you can. But I think you already know
that you and I are not that much different. In some way we'll never be enough for him. We're
not 'perfect' enough."
She ran into the far night, and there was nothing else to say. When he got back to the bar the
table was vacant of all his friends except for Rin. He lifted his eyes to meet Haruka's and
shook his head.
"Don't say anything."
So Haruka didn't. He flipped a finger into photographers' faces when the remnants of them
tried to pry questions out of solemnly silent Rin, maneuvered them toward the closest subway
station, and almost wished some of them would follow just for the fun of creating another
scandal. He threw up into the bushes along the road instead.
"You really don't want to swim anymore?" he managed to croak then.

"No."
"Why?"
Rin remained silent. Haruka looked at the pinkish night sky above their heads, sighed, and
wished he could pretend he didn't already know the answer.
"I'm sorry that I disappointed you."
Rin looked wretched when he shook his head curtly. "Let's go home. Let's just go home,
Haru."
Subway car rattled into the station, the night was warm, and somewhere there a girl cried.
***
Home turned out to be his spare futon rolled out in the common room that Rin pushed him
into as if his life depended on it. His mouth left wet kisses down Haruka's throat and chest,
frantically claiming his lips in between. It was dark, so dark Haruka couldn't make out a
thing, but he didn't need to see to know that despite all the grinding Rin was barely half-hard.
"What are you doing?" Rin pulled on Haruka's hands when they hovered over his back,
unable to decide where to rest. "Are you not into it? Do you not want it? You always want it,
don't you?"
A hot hand sneaked between them, pulling on Haruka's sweats and circling around him. He
shut his eyes hard before tears could spill over. It must have been the alcohol, it must have,
why else would he feel so dirty in Rin's arms?
"What's the matter? Did I—did I do something wrong?" Rin asked when Haruka pried his
hand away from his rapidly flagging cock. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head in the
dark.
"What are you trying to prove? There's no one but us here."
"I love you." Rin's hair tickled his cheek when he pushed his damp face into Haruka's neck.
"I love you so fucking much."
A car passed down the street, drawing yellow stripes on the ceiling that Haruka stared at,
wide eyed. He closed them, trying to remember how Rin's hair felt, thick and soft, silk-like
under his fingers. Brilliant.
"Then why are you so unhappy?"
"I'm not. I'm very happy."

Haruka swallowed. "If you say so."
He stroked Rin's damp cheek for the last time before pulling himself upright, letting Rin's
back turn to him and going into the bathroom. He threw up twice more, washed his teeth
thoroughly, and let his mind drift empty, leaning against the bathtub.
The floor was cold, and he missed Rin's warmth so much it hurt, but he couldn't get up and
seek it. It was almost morning—dark sky in the east had already turned softer. He didn't know
what he was waiting for; perhaps the answer to the question of how to take the pain away
from someone he loved. Or how to fill the void that was left after you lost direction in your
life.
Surely it wasn't a knock on the front door in the small hours of the morning.
"What happened?" he asked a bleary-eyed Jane when he found her in his doorway, alone.
"Are you alright? Is Makoto alright?"
"Isn't he here?"
"Makoto? He's not. I thought he was out with you."
"No. He's... I"—her voice broke—"I can't find him. We had a fight."
Haruka hesitated. "Because of what happened in the bar?"
"No." Jane shook her blonde head. "Something we’ve been arguing about for a long time.
Things that I didn't want to talk with him about—about the past. It goes on and on, he never
stops asking, as if it fucking matters." She laughed wetly. "Well. I guess it doesn't matter now,
does it? I'm sure Anna will tell him anything that he wants to know, all he has to do is ask.
Now that we're not friends anymore. Maybe she already sought him and that's why he's not
anywhere to find."
In a rush of sympathy for this fragile, soft girl Haruka pulled her to him, shutting the door
behind her. Thin, girly arms curled around his waist, offering him a bit of comfort that he
desperately needed himself.
"Do you really think she would do that?"
"I don't know. I've never seen her so broken before."
"I don't think she would." Haruka tipped her chin to look into her eyes. They were large and
watery, and so full of fear it would break the hardest of hearts. "Friendship doesn't work like
that. You won't lose it for one argument. And as a matter of fact, Makoto can handle any past
you have."
"Not this one."
"Any and all."
"You're so sure about that."

"Because it's true. Now come and sit, we'll wait for him. Want some tea?"
Jane nodded solemnly, as if him offering his kitchen meant the world to her. The morning
light crept slowly over the tatami of his apartment while he held her hand. She didn't speak
about her past, the fight with Makoto, or anything serious. Her soft voice soothed demons
that threatened to reign in his chest, and he talked back to her just as gently. But the day was
coming, whatever they did, and when finally, at last, Rin's sleep-tousled figure halted in the
doorway, he knew it wasn’t going to be a regular day.
"Who are you?" Rin asked after ten minutes of sitting at the table next to them, listening to
their quiet, English conversation. "Who are you? You're not the Haru I know. You're not my
Haru."
Haruka's heart stuttered, but he couldn't acknowledge it. He prodded Jane to speak again,
squeezing her hand. She didn't, of course—confused by the words spoken in a language that
she didn't understand, by the way that Haruka's fingers trembled against hers.
"My Haru doesn’t speak English. My Haru barely graduated from it a year ago. My Haru
doesn’t lie. My Haru doesn’t do drugs."
"Maybe I'm not your Haru. Maybe I'm just Haru."
Jane moved to stand up. "I think I should go," she said before Rin's grip pulled her back to
her chair. As if he knew that Haruka needed someone to keep his gaze locked on when
nothing could, for the love of god, force his eyes to Rin's face.
"Hey, guys." Makoto's voice rippled through them when Haruka's fingers finally made it over
the table to Rin's cold own. "You're up early. Hey, honey, you're here, too? Heard you've been
looking for me. Sorry."
A kiss resonated on someone else's lips—so easy a resolution to a fight. Soft murmur of two
good, normal people who knew how to make something good out of things.
"Please," he whispered, begging for who knows what.
"Haru, look at this for a moment?" The display of Makoto's cell phone burned his retinas
when it was shown to his face. "Isn't that the place you worked at?"
Haruka forced his eyes to focus on the picture of a building, burned down to the remnants of
charcoal black walls. It was a generic looking ruin that could have been anything once. But
the gate was a familiar carved metal piece that he had opened innumerable times, with an
elaborate dragon double door that Old Ita had made with his own hands when he was but a
young lad. In the picture smoke was still rising from the debris of the house where Haruka
had spent months creating wooden statues.
"The article says the owner and his wife were present at the time of the fire." Makoto
wavered. "I'm sorry, Haru. I know you cared for them."
"Was it—" Haruka cleared his tight throat. "Was it an accident?"

"Well, no. According to the news someone made sure they were locked in for the night.
Police are on their track. There apparently were some threats before this."
"Alright," Haruka said, even though nothing was alright. Nothing was, not when he was
sitting here, with living hands to hold Makoto's phone, with living eyes to look at the picture
of a burned site, the worried faces of his dearest around the table. Not when Old Ita was
burned down to ashes of his old bones, not alive anymore. Not smiling his wrinkled, goofy
smile behind the counter when Haruka entered the shop or when he particularly liked a
carving, no. He was never going to smile again. He was dead. "Alright."
Someone squeezed his hand painfully and it might have even been Rin. Door to his mother's
room swung open to reveal she was sleeping peacefully, hair tousled on the pillow like the
worst fears in his chest.
Sharp, fresh morning light caressed the gravel ground of the backyard of his building as he
stumbled outside and dropped Chang's rumpled card from his shaking hands twice.
"Hey, it's me," he said once the line was connected. "Did you do it? Did your people do that?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean Old Ita, my employer. I kn-know he was being threatened," Haruka stuttered. "Did
you kill him? Because of me? Because you can't get to me right now? Was it revenge?"
Chang was silent. "I don't know what you mean. Don't call this number again."
"But—wait. I need to know. I need to—"
"Listen, kiddo," Chang said, voice coarse. "No amount of public attention could spare you if
they were still after you. I found your dad. You're safe for—"
The moment his phone left the grip of his fingers Haruka reached after it—a futile, awkward
attempt to save it, to hear the rest of Chang's words before it drew a perfectly straight line
from Rin's hand to the brick wall of the neighbouring building. In an almost artistic,
unearthly way it crushed against it and fell into a thousand shiny pieces all around the ground
like early morning rain.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Haruka yelled, trembling all over. He was not afraid of
Rin's cross expression, he was so over his shit. "I was talking! I’ve barely had that phone for
two days, for god's sake."
"Even now? Even at the time like this you run to him first?"
"Who?"
"Should I carry a banner around? A fucking 'I'm here to be talked to' in bloody lit-up letters?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Who did you call?"

"What? Chang, it was Chang, the man you saw at the airport. Who did you think it was?"
Rin looked baffled. "Sousuke."
"What? Sousuke? Why would you bring him up again? Why would I call him? Ah, you know
what?" Haruka waved his hand. "Don't even answer that."
"You always seek him out when something happens to you. Always him, never me."
"Oh, listen to yourself. I haven't seen him in weeks. God, is this never going to end? You
know what?" Haruka said. "This is pretty fucked up time to argue. I can't do this now. Yell at
me, tell me I'm an idiot, lay all your stupid jealousy on me in one go, so I can pretend to
know what you want to hear and we can move on like always. I'm tired."
The Sun shone into Haruka's eyes, making his hangover headache unbearable. He rubbed the
base of his nose, waiting for Rin to find another way to piss him off. What he didn't expect
was him being silent for so long, or looking so wide-eyed for whatever reason.
"Not this time," Rin whispered.
"What?"
"Not this time. Not this time."
"Keep repeating it, I'm sure it'll make sense then."
"Ah, this is so fucked up. You know, Haru. You know what I mean." Rin sniffed, avoiding
Haruka's gawking. "Don't you?"
"I... I don't."
"Last night was... these last weeks were... What the fuck did I do last night, Haru? Did you
hear what Gou said? They all thought the same. I fucked it up. It's like it wasn't me, at all, in
that bar. It's not me—hurting people on purpose. It was someone else, someone you've made
of me."
"What?" Haruka felt ground shifting under his legs.
"I don't want to be like that. I don't want to be that person. It's just too much, Haru. Can't you
see? I know you see it, all this time I've been making you miserable, too. No." Rin wrestled
Haruka's hands away from his face where they tried to stop the darkness from falling out of
his mouth. "Please, Haru. Please. You can stop me from saying it, but what will that change?"
"You're not ending this. Stop making these fucking spur-of-a-moment decisions for both of
us," Haruka said, trying to free his hands so he could land a blow somewhere—anywhere on
Rin.
"Stop it, please."
"Like it's all about you. It's not all about you."
"You're going to hurt yourself."
"I'm fucking here, too, and I won't have it, not again. But you—you're gonna let go, like
always. First problems and you're gone in an instant, like a ghost. Don't you care what it does
to me?"
"I do, I—"
"I can make it better. I'll be better." Haruka wrapped his fingers around Rin's biceps, sagging
into his body. "I promise, I'll be better. I will never see Yamazaki again, I'll cross the street if I
see him by chance. It'll be fine, we don't have to argue anymore. I swear, it's okay if you don't
want to sleep with me, really, it is. I'm okay with that."
"Jesus, Haru."
"Really, I don't mind. I won't ever mention it again. I swear I won't touch you that way. You
won't have a reason to be angry with me."
"God, Haru, don't make it look like it's all because we didn't fuck. It's for a million other
reasons."
"No, I know. I know." Haruka covered his face. "It's because you don't want me."
"No, I... love. Am I not lost enough in you? Do you have to have every piece of me so
nothing's left? Christ, all I think about is you, you, and you, all the fucking time. Did you
sleep at all? Have you eaten? Are you in pain and just not telling me again? Do I need to get
you some help? Where should I go, who should I ask? And I don't know how to help you, I
really don't. Half of the time I don't know how to help myself. If only you talked to me."
"I will. I promise, I'll tell you everything you want to know."
"But I can't trust a word you say, I can't, and it's not just your fault. I'm not—I've never been
this paranoid before. I'm sick of myself. Oh god, Haru." His strong, safe arms were around
Haruka's waist when his knees gave up. "Jesus, Haru, breathe. Breathe, my love, please.
Please, don't—don't do this to me. Okay? It's going to be okay. Just breathe."
Haruka couldn't. He sobbed, forgetting to be ashamed of kneeling on the hard ground where
anyone could see.
"You can't leave. You promised. You said you loved me like nobody else."
Rin's warm body covered him like a blanket. "I do, fuck, how much I do. And I blame you,
because I don't know how to love anyone else. You're the only one I ever loved."
"No."
"What am I supposed to do? Tell me. Tell me how I'm supposed to live for the rest of my life
without you. I'm not good on my own. How, Haru?"
"You don't have to." Rin's fingers were slipping from Haruka's grasp, the only warm hands
that ever touched him, that held him close. Haruka peppered them with kisses—pale
knuckles, nails, every digit that would never caress his hair and touch his lips again.
"Why did you make me do this? All those years I admired you, I looked up to you. I loved
you. And it wasn't true, all that time it was a dream, you've never been that man. You made
me believe we could swim again—what for? Why did you have to do that? Why did you
betray me like that?"
"No."
"I thought I would grow old with you. I thought you'd be my family."
"No. I love—"
"Don't you dare." Rin pulled away as if slapped. "Don't you fucking dare say it. I waited too
long for this to hear it now, of all times. Don't say it."
The ground was too cold to stand, and it was the only thing that Haruka had left in the world.
That, and Rin's pity. It was unbearable.
"Don't leave me. I don't have anyone."
"I won't ever, I promise. I'll always be your friend." Rin's eyes were too big for his face as he
backed to the door, and Haruka thought that he might never see them looking at him like this
ever again—tender, desolate, his. "I just don't know right now how. I'll call you. As soon as I
think of a way to help you, I'll call. You'll always have me. Maybe—maybe just differently."
"Shut up."
"I'm sorry I hurt you again," he said, and there was nothing else to damage. "It will be the last
time."
An ambulance howled along the street, sirens on. Perhaps they could take him along, Haruka
thought, a case of a broken heart that could kill a person. But there was no treatment for this,
no salvage, because a human's heart was not meant to take so much pain. It was not meant to
survive it.
It was meant to love, to hold hope, not to leave a man weeping in the middle of the street like
a gutted venison.
"Sir? Are you okay, sir? Should I call someone? Do you need help?" Hands he didn't know
tried to lift him up, but he pushed them away. If there was help, if there was any refuge at all,
it was in death only. And there was no guarantee that calm blankness waited on the other
side, instead of an eternity of waiting for Rin to join him—something that would never
happen now. "Sir? Where are you going? Are you sure you can walk?"
"Don't touch me."

His mother's eyes lifted to him from the doorway of her room, and he couldn't take it,
couldn't take Nagisa'a and Makoto's pained faces hovering in the kitchen.
"He just left," Misaki said. "Oh, good grief, he has broken up with you, hasn't he? That
explains a lot. Well." She sighed. "I guess better sooner than later."
"Be quiet," Haruka whispered.
"Come and have some tea. It'll help."
"Be quiet!"
"Pardon?" Misaki turned around from the lit up stove. "How do you think you—"
"I said be quiet. Don't pretend like you care." Haruka trembled horribly. "Don't pretend you
like to be here—making tea, buying me clothes, playing a parent," he spat bitterly. "Don't
pretend you care after all my life that you were gone." He took a step forward, and she
gawked at him. "You're here because you had no other option and then it was too comfortable
to move, but you don't fucking care. So stop pretending that you give a single damn about
me. Where were you all those years, you bitch of a mother? Where?"
"Haruka."
"Why? Why am I like this?" he gasped, wiping on the tears. "Why did I have to be born like
that?"
"Ha—"
"Why did you have to give birth to me? Sometimes I wish I wasn't born at all. I wish I died in
your womb instead."
"Oh, dear," she breathed and felt for him. So Haruka wept.
It was irony that after all those years of hoping for love the last thing he saw was Misaki's
hands reaching up to catch him. And with them blinding pain, loneliness, and finally,
darkness.
Chapter 20
Chapter Notes
Hey guys,
Here we go. I would say all credit for editing goes to marbled_maven as usual, but I feel
I owe her much more that just for editing this time—as an incredible adviser, someone
who keeps this story close to her heart just as I do, and a person who finally taught me to
use dashes and hyphens.
So without further ado let me offer you a grand finale to my veeeery long story, haha.
Enjoy!!!
Fever came during the night. Haruka woke up and fell under the surface of consciousness,
playing roulette with nightmares of Old Ita calling out his name from within the burning
flames. At times the cries of pain belonged to his father, tortured in ways Haruka wasn't
aware his mind could come up with. Sometimes he dreamt of hands.
Hands touching him, heaving him from the ground, hands of strangers that he loathed with all
his might, and Rin's hands, too. Those were the worst. They caressed, warm and gently
holding him over the abysses full of freezing water, only to let him go, never caring long
enough.
"Alright. It's alright," Makoto's trembling voice said when Haruka gasped and woke, rivulets
of water from the shower's head running down his naked body. "We got you, Haru. You've
got too high a fever, but it's going to be alright."
"Hold him firmly. You, blond one, hand me the towels." Somewhere there Misaki
commanded. Shocking warmth enveloped him, but it was still not enough. He was freezing.
"Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the hospital?"
"We'll see," she said. "This is the last time we're trying this. If it doesn't help this time, we'll
go. Now get him back to bed."
"Haru?" someone asked, a warm breath too close, but he couldn't make out which of his
friends the voice belonged to. He was drowning again. "Oh my, he's slipping away again.
Haru, come on. Haru!"
Next time he woke up, he wasn't in any hospital. Sounds of quiet conversation carried
distantly from his common room, morning light streamed into the room. He fell asleep again.
"Haru? Are you awake? Can you open your eyes?" someone with Makoto's voice asked at
some point.
"My boy, it's alright if you want to sleep, but you need to eat. It's been days," Misaki said
some other time—he didn't know when.
Time didn't matter. It flowed and it stood still, it did as it pleased. He registered it numbly,
distant like the sensation of swallowing food that they forced him to eat, or the sight of
Makoto's wall that he stared at in between sleeping.
"Cry, if you want," Nagisa said once, curling against Haruka's laying body, arms tight around
his waist.
"I can't."
"Then yell."
"I can't, either," he said, because he couldn't. To scream you had to be able to breathe first.
That afternoon—or the next one, or the one after that—he woke up all alone in the condo. He
sat up, listening carefully, searching for a sound. Placing his feet on the tatami was as surreal
as anything these days. Several minutes later Haruka knew they had done a good job hiding
any possible means of getting to the news from outside: there was no fresh newspaper under
the coffee table where his mother used to put it on a daily basis; Makoto's kitchen radio had
disappeared, and he would bet his life they had kept their smartphones out of reach even
while he slept—just to be sure. Even the TV cable was missing from the wall.
How unlucky they hadn’t lived in the place for as long as Haruka had—except for Makoto,
but who would berate the guy for forgetting the existence of an old device that he had
swapped his new phone with months ago. With unfeeling fingers Haruka pulled it out of the
little box where it had been resting, put it to charge. Booted. And dove in.
Rin's statements to the press were blank and nothing-saying like before—Haruka skimmed
the FINA site before deciding he had gone about this all the wrong way. Serious papers
wouldn't publish what he was looking for.
Pictures on the gossip-sites he expected; they weren't as bad, considering they only showed
the man that had cut him down when he was at his lowest holding hands with him in a dimly
lit bar. The video footage was worse. It might have been only a dream until now—the
memory of that night blurry and dull-shaped in his mind—only as he watched his drunk self
curl into Rin's side, the groggily happy face he had made when Rin's fingers cradled his head,
there was nothing to lie about.
"Give it to me," Makoto whispered from above, unmoved by the tears running down Haruka's
face for the first time since that day. "Give it back to me, Haru. That’s enough."
Someone gasped in the video, presumably the person who had taken the footage, and Haruka
looked back to watch himself being kissed, thoroughly and hotly, and then run away from the
smoke-filled room. He watched the shocked remnants of the company filing out slowly, Rin's
head laying on his folded arms.
"That's enough. Let go." Makoto's fingers wrestled the device out of his numb grasp and
replaced it with the warmth of his embrace. Haruka held on for dear life. It was getting dark
outside, and there was no reason to pretend it didn't hurt.
"He was the love of my life."
"I know." Makoto stroked his hair.
"And he left me."
"I know."
"He doesn't love me. Never did." Haruka felt something crucial die behind his ribs.
"That's not true."
"It is. He would have stayed otherwise. We would have made it somehow."
"I don't know, Haru. Sometimes… it's not about love. Sometimes love isn't enough."
Haruka winced at the new rush of pain as if stabbed. "I need to drink, Makoto. I need…
something. Please."
"Alright, brother. Alright. Hold on."
When Makoto came back he was carrying a bottle with him—a golden, bitter kind of liquid
relief—and two glasses that softly clinked when he filled them almost to their halves. They
sat side by side, shoulders touching, staring at the chaotic piles of video games that neither of
them had time or energy to play, and drank. Haruka thought that being an adult quite sucked.
"I'm fucked up. I'm so fucked up, Makoto."
"Yeah. But it'll pass."
"Will it?"
"It always does. One way or another."

Three glasses later it didn't feel any better, but Haruka guessed that it would take more than
that to dull this kind of unhappiness.
"How's Jane? You solved the problem?"
"Yeah. You could say that." Makoto cringed at the bitter taste and downed another glass. "She
had a baby. Or would have, if she hadn’t ended the pregnancy."
Haruka eyed him. "You're alright about that?"
"Yeah. Past is what it is—the past. No reason to dwell on it."
"Did Anna tell you, in the end?"
"What? Why would Anna tell me? Jane did, of course."
"Just like that? How do you say something like that?"
"I don't know? Normally. You open your mouth and speak."
Haruka stared at the tatami, wide-eyed. "I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know, Makoto." He lay
down, Makoto's hand on his back—a reminder he was still alive. "When is it going to pass,
Makoto?"
"I don't know. They say it should, though."
"I can't stand it. I don't know if I will survive until then."
"Of course you will. You have no other option."
Haruka curled into himself. "Why did it have to end?"
"I wonder." Makoto smacked his lips. "Everything ends at some point, I guess. Good and bad,
both. Things, people, loves—nothing's here forever. Sooner or later everything's gone. Even
the universe has to wrap it all up at some point."
"You're so wise tonight."
Makoto laughed. "It's the alcohol, probably."
"It does you good. You should take on drinking."
"Yeah, pity I don't fancy the afterglow. Sleep now."
Haruka watched the empty glass roll out of his hand and thought of universes and their
planets and stars dying in an infinite blackness, all alone like he was, before falling
unconscious.
Time rushed back in after that—an insurmountable hammer of life. He desperately longed to
know how to fall asleep again, how to stop counting seconds until another hour had passed.
Days had too many of them, each hour too many minutes, and every minute lasted forever
when you spent it lying down, waiting for pain to ease. It never happened.
"That's it." Misaki threw the duvet away one day. "You've spent entirely enough time in bed.
Get up."
"Go away."
"Or, you know what?" she asked, voice flat. "Stay just like that. You're right. This is exactly
what everybody looks for in a lover. Someone who despairs indefinitely over one break-up."
Haruka glared her down, pulling the duvet back over his ears.
"What's the point? He doesn't care what I do. He's not going to come back."
"Who said he was." Misaki started to pull the sheet off the bed that Haruka was lying on,
beckoning his feet away. "It doesn't matter. There's only one person you have to prove
yourself to all your life—and that's you." She threw open the window, letting the morning air
fill the room. "Now go have a bath. Sweet Jesus, this stench is worse than a piggery."
"I don't have anywhere to go."
"Well, you can start with throwing out the garbage. And then make us something for lunch.
I'm tired of cooking for your friends all the time. Are you aware how much they eat? Even
the small one—where does all that food go?" Haruka smiled despite himself, moving
sluggishly to search for a towel. She waved him off. "It's all in the bathroom. Just go. The
bath's ready." She shrugged at Haruka's incredulous stare. "Yeah, I know. Now go, before the
water gets cold."
The supervision eased after that—even the TV cable had returned sometime during the week.
Haruka watched stupid shows, the news that indefinitely wondered why he had never added
his own statement about the still raging Oxycodone scandal. He cooked, did little chores
whenever he was asked to. He functioned. It wasn't by far the life he would have chosen, but
Makoto was right. There was no other option—no matter how much you were dying inside,
one day you had to get up and go on.
One evening he stumbled over the small plastic bag while sorting out his things. The illegible
writing of the paramedic's prescription on the still sealed opening managed to sway him like
a rush of wind when a train passes too close. Before he knew he was throwing it out of the
window, staring after it as it fell onto the neighbouring roof for some unlucky bird to eat. Two
or three reporters, still camped under his building, were roused from their boredom by the
movement. He shut the window behind him fast.
It was that night that he found the DVD, too. And he decided that cleaning should be
postponed for a time, once he was able to face what he found. His trembling fingers touched
the worn-out cover of Gone with the Wind, that he had forgotten he still had somewhere. Of
course it was a bad idea—and he didn't really expect to handle it well during the scene they
had watched together for the first time on the stairs of that shadowed cinema—or any other,
for that matter. He didn't expect it to feel like an autopsy while still being somehow alive.
"Why are you watching it over and over again? This is like the fifteenth time," said Nagisa,
and Haruka turned around to find both of his friends sprawled at his side as if they had been
there for hours—Makoto sound asleep. He had never noticed them there.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I can't stop."
"Haven't you had enough?"
He thought about it for a while. "Yeah… I guess I have."
"Come then. It's time to make dinner." Nagisa smiled, shut the computer closed on Makoto's
table, and left for the kitchen. And in the suddenly silenced condo Haruka felt that whatever
surgery he had just made himself undergo, it was a successful one.
***
"What do you mean there hasn't been a funeral yet?" Haruka barked at the young-looking
police officer, who served the front window of the local police station. The boy winced.
"L-like I said, sir, both Ita-kun and his deceased wife passed away without relatives. There
wasn't anyone to sign the necessary documents and take over the remnants. The usual
procedure is to wait a month, and in case no distant relative shows up, the bodies are
cremated and buried at municipal expense."
Haruka raked his hair, just to do something other than hitting the innocent boy. "Where are…
where are the bodies now?"
The boy wrote the address of the hospital down and handed it over with a shaking hand.
Haruka snatched it away.
"I know who you are, you know? I know your face from the TV," the boy said to his back.
"Good for you," Haruka retorted, because what else was there to say.
It wasn't even hard then: obtaining the death certificate and handling the relocation of the
remnants of the bodies—both the morgue and the city were happy that there was someone
willing to deal with the problem, and, mostly, to pay the expenses. That he wasn't a relative
seemed marginally less important when he pulled out Misaki's envelope.
Dealing with a temple was another thing.
"We can't perform a nōkan," the manager said, too busy to have time for anything. "There's
no encoffining of the body when there is not a proper body. You said they were almost
completely damaged by fire." She flipped pages in her thick folder. "Let's talk about the wake
instead. I understand you're making all the funeral arrangements. Are you a grandson?"
"No. They didn't have children."
"A distant relative then?"
"No. I was an employee."
She eyed him for a moment. "Right. Is there going to be anyone else present at the
ceremony?"
"I don't think so."
"Alright." The manager sighed, taking off her glasses. "The preparations should be done
soon. I'll inform you on the precise date."
"Thank you. Goodbye."
"Sir?" Haruka turned around, ready to face another indignant citizen, enraged by his choice
of destroying Japan’s pristine image. "What you're doing… It's a very decent thing to do. I'm
sure they would appreciate it."
Haruka nodded curtly, bowed, and left.
The wake was held three days later. He ironed his white shirt to perfection, put on the only
black suit he owned, and stepped into the common room to find all three of his makeshift
family already dressed in funeral clothes and ready to go. Haruka swallowed, holding himself
together by a thin thread.
Jane joined them at the entrance of the temple, wordlessly embracing him and stepping to
Makoto's side. Her hand slipped into Makoto's like a key into a lock. It took all that Haruka
had not to scream.
When it ended they all left him in the shrine to keep vigil during the night. Shadows of
incense danced along the walls of the room and over the two coffins, filled with what little
was left of two living, working, breathing, feeling people. They were dead, and yet they were
more alive than Haruka felt at times.
When he got home there was a picture of Old Ita and his wife on the cabinet in his common
room, apparently cut out of the newspapers and framed. Haruka put it back down when he
could move again and knew that whatever he had done wasn't enough. Two days from now
their remnants would be cremated and there was nothing he could do to make the guilt go
away.
"How do you do it?" Haruka asked his mother that night in front of the TV as she read a book
in the other armchair. "How do you not go crazy thinking he could be dead? Or worse."
"I don't think of it. That's the only way for me. I don't think of it."
"Don't you want to go searching for him?"
She flipped a page, not looking up. "I'm exactly where I should be. For once."
The police station was buzzing with lively energy as he was given a seat and assigned to an
exhausted-looking officer. It was still buzzing three hours later.
"So, Nanase-kun, may I ask you to explain your connection to Toshimo Pharmaceuticals once
again? What kind of position do you claim you had there before the alleged fire at their
laboratories?"
Haruka gritted his teeth. He had been disgustingly mature about this so far, but everything
had its limits. "Not I, but my father. He was the head of the department for Parkinson's
disease treatment, a program the company used to have. He started the fire in order to destroy
all possible traces of LEVO—the compound he and his team accidentally developed as a side
product."
"And how is Ita Nomoharu's death related to it?"
"I was mistakenly considered an accomplice of my father by the Yakuza group Tsukasa-gumi,
based on the fact that they were certain he had fled them to cooperate with foreign
pharmaceutical enterprises on the recreation of LEVO. Unlike him, I can speak English quite
well, and the fact that we had been seen together affirmed their assumptions that I was
working with him. I think… I think Ita-san might have been their revenge when they couldn't
get to me or my mother because of the public attention. It was a warning."
"Oh, alright." The very confused officer scratched his cheek and sighed. "I guess it wouldn't
hurt to go through it all one more time."
"I'll take it from here, Yuna-kun. Thank you." The tall man standing behind Haruka smiled
before he could do something improper like strangle his colleague. The uniform the man
wore signified a much higher rank. "If Nanase-san would be as kind as to repeat everything
one more time."
Haruka sighed, resigned to whatever at that point, and nodded.
"I'm sorry we kept you for so long." The Chief Inspector opened the door of his office for
Haruka to leave.
"It was not a problem."
"Your help is highly appreciated, Nanase-kun. Taketchiro Yuri is a very dangerous man, so
please be careful. I know you said your contact has assured you that you should be safe for
now, but we can never be cautious enough."
"I will."
Haruka watched the man straighten slightly in his door and hesitate. "Nanase-kun, if anything
that we're asking you to do is too much, please tell me. The information you have given us is
indeed enough. We can't hardly ask for more."
"You're not asking too much."
The Chief Inspector smiled with a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. "I expect a breakthrough
after too many years of trying to find something against Taketchiro. He's always been too
careful, and the public blind to his misdoings. But with the press coverage it's entirely
possible he'll finally make a mistake that we have been waiting for. And that he won't risk
your father's life, too."
"Yes." Haruka turned to leave, too drained to argue that his father was probably already dead.
"Aren't you afraid for your public image?"
"My public image cannot be worse."
The man laughed sheepishly. "Alright. Thank you anyway, your father would surely be
grateful."
"I'm doing this for Ita-san," Haruka said and left.
The afternoon fell warm on the city, on the temple where a cremation chamber waited to turn
two persons into dust, what they once had been before they became people. On whatever
place his father was at that moment. Haruka breathed in warm air. The truth was that the Sun
still shone, and the world didn't stop turning just because his heart did. Everything went on—
gorgeous ignorance of life that cared not about his pain—and one day that must go away, too.
Haruka made his way through the crowd of the street, feeling a bit of the burden fall away.
Of course, that was the day when the call came.
Haruka stared at the display with the name he could neither think, nor say, without falling
apart and watched the screen until it was black yet again. Later that night he did the same. It
was not the day to think about it, he decided—just like Scarlett had in that movie, he would
think of it some other time, in another lifetime. If only that was possible.
"I'm not sure about this part." Misaki pointed at his hand-written, barely legible sentences
later that night. "I would cut all this out. Why do you insist on making everything public?
Aren't you hunted enough by the press already?"
"How much worse can it get? I caught one of them going through our garbage the other day.
He must have crawled over the fence somehow."
"Just like the rats that they are." She examined him from under black fringe. "Are you really
sure, Haruka? Don't you want to keep the rest of your life to yourself?"
He looked out of the window. "I don't have much life to begin with."
"Fine." Misaki looked at Old Ita's picture on the cabinet. "I hope he's seeing this." She sighed.
"Then let's start from the beginning. It must be immaculate, not this… thing you have
created."
Haruka leaned down over the press statement he had sweated over for hours and swallowed.
"I got a call today." When the pen froze in Misaki’s hand, he rushed to add, “I didn’t pick it
up. He called again later, but I… I couldn't."
It felt like years before Misaki spoke again. "Take this from a woman who never wants to see
that person around her son again. You should have taken that call."
"Why?"
"You haven't moved on. You can't move on until you face the past."
Haruka shook his head. "I can't."
"You have to."
"I'm not ready."
The pen in her hand crossed out a sentence on the paper—a part of his memories. "When are
we ever? Isn't it that we just plunge ourselves into everything and hope for the best?
Sometimes we get it, sometimes we don't—that's hardly a reason to not even try."
"I'm scared," he whispered and hoped it wasn't audible over the sound of the pen scraping
over the paper.
She hummed to herself. "Another proof that it matters too much to let go."
The next morning she took care of the statement, claiming that it would be unwise for Haruka
to meet with the reporters just yet—he wasn't smart enough to handle the hungered lot by
himself. He saw the worried line of her mouth and knew better.
***
The smell of incense stuck to his skin, the sight of coffins licked by raging flames to his
memory. It was too late to question whether Old Ita would want the cremation chamber to
finish what the fire of his beloved home couldn't, or if he would choose another end. The
contents of Misaki's envelope barely covered a locker-sized grave on the third floor of the
newly-built city temple building—a disgusting product of modern times. Haruka read the
characters of the two names on the simple marble desk again and again, as if he could atone
for the inability to provide something worth the man lying beyond.
"Rei couldn't make it?" he asked when he couldn't bear it anymore.
"He's looking for a flat. For me. For both of us," Nagisa added. "You know it's been hard on
him, seeing you like this. He depends on you too much. Give him time."
"You're moving out?" Haruka asked incredulously.
Nagisa laughed. "About time, isn’t it?" A smile still lingered on his lips as new incense lit up
in his fingers. "I can't go back, Haru-chan. I failed all my exams. I can't face their
disappointment anymore. I don't want to live like that anymore. I chose not to."
"I… I'm sorry. I didn't know." Haruka faltered. "I guess I never asked."
"Don't worry. You had enough on your plate as it was," Nagisa lied effortlessly, and rising
smoke covered his eyes. "You're doing great, Haru-chan. You really are. I meant to tell you.
I'm very proud of you."
"Not everything is as it looks on the surface. Sometimes… It's very hard sometimes."
"I always knew you'd make it, but there was a time that I worried."
Haruka glanced around the vast, empty funeral room void of furniture and the warmth of
living things. July's hot air stayed locked out of it alongside all the joys of life. "People come
and go. No one ever stays. Especially not him. I don't… I don't think I'd survive if this was
the first time he left. You get used to everything after a while, it's only the first time that
shocks you." He braced himself. "How is he faring?"
"I… I don't really know." Nagisa hesitated, then frowned. "We didn't feel like we cared
enough to find out."
Haruka sighed. "You shouldn't take sides. You're his friends, too."
"Oh, I can take whatever side I want. I didn't bring him back to do that to you."
"Then why did you bring him back?" Haruka snapped, but stopped short when guilt distorted
Nagisa's angelic face. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. Really. I just… I wish none of it had
happened, you know? Sometimes I wish I'd never met him. Not just now, but all those years
ago—I wish I'd never known how he smiled, or laughed." How he was. How he could be
when he tried a little. "Isn't that stupid? As if that could change anything."
"I believe everything happens for a reason. In the end something good will come out of every
bad thing," Nagisa said when they stepped into the summer Sun outside of the building. Its
rays caressed Haruka's frozen skin, but could not reach petrified tissues underneath.
"Even out of this?"
"Yes."
"What could that be?" Haruka laughed bitterly.
"You. As you are now."
"Damaged?"
"Different. The way you speak so freely now—when have you ever talked with me like this
before? With Makoto? Or with your mom? Don't think we didn't notice. The 'you' from
before would shut us all out and brood in the bathtub for months. You didn’t allow yourself to
depend on us like you do now."
"I've always depended on you."
Nagisa smiled gently. "No, you never did." He beckoned Haruka to walk down the path to the
cemetery exit.
"I don't feel that much different. Apart from… this." He gripped his shirt where the pain was
the worst.
"Don't you? Now tell me—would the 'you' from a year ago worry about what people think?
Would that 'you' care what the country thinks of him? Would you reach out to police, or go to
the newspapers to explain everything? Would you care?" Nagisa kicked a stone on the
sidewalk and shrugged. "But you do now, don't you?"
Haruka sighed and let his mind drift cautiously, ever so hesitantly, to the face hidden behind
protective layers erected around his heart. The pain was as sharp as ever at the sight of red
eyes, but somehow he was still in one piece.
"Call Gou."
"I will."
"Go see him. Don't tell me about it, but go see him. Everything cannot be destroyed.
Something must survive. Something, at the very least."
Graceful, neat, hand-written words swam in front of Haruka's eyes. He turned the elegant
envelope around, but it was really his name shining black on white. Even the paper smelled
rich, distant waft of woods and the elegant fingers that handled the letter before it was passed
to courier and delivered to his humble apartment.
"Oh," Misaki said, looking over his shoulder, her face reddening. "That is a very good
restaurant. Not the best in the city, granted, but it wouldn't be wise to turn down such an
offer."
"An offer."
"Who would think Kawasaki-san had such a generous character," Makoto said, reading with
wide eyes once the letter was passed to him.
"An offer," Haruka repeated, incredulous.
"Generous character, certainly." Misaki waved her hand. "More like he reads the news."
Nagisa looked up from today's newspaper and grinned. "From the nation's shame to a Yakuza
fighter overnight. That's what I call a turnabout."
"That's hardly accurate. I'm not doing anything. Just telling Old Ita's story. And mine."
"That's more than three-quarters of this country does." Misaki's hand was firm on his
shoulder, and his friends' eyes warm.
"Will you take it?"
"I don't know," Haruka admitted, scanning the white sheet as if the sentences 'I have been
made aware you are in need of employment' and 'I and the honourable guests of the banquet,
which took place in my house, were utterly delighted by the skills you demonstrated' made
more sense than 'I took the liberty of mentioning your name when a dear friend of mine told
me he was in a need of a reliable employee for his humble establishment. He recalled your
art from that night, upon my inquiry, and would be delighted to invite you to take on the
position'.
"I will think about it."
And he did. He pondered over it the whole day and would probably have spent many
tormented nights doing the same if he didn't find Nagisa in the common room one night,
wiping on tears running down his face. Strings of horror pulled on his heart.
"What's the matter? What happened?"
"I talked with Gou." Nagisa managed a sad smile. "So… Do you want to hear it, Haru-chan?
Or should I keep it to myself?"
Haruka gritted his teeth. "Tell me. Tell me at once."
Letters of the club's name were lit up but dim in the clear July evening, with the Sun still
streaking through the clouds. Surreal in their familiarity, just like Gou's arms around his neck,
like the wall afar where he had been kissed for the first time.
"You're still my brother," she whispered and let go—the unspoken thank you in her eyes
almost broke his resolve to enter the door that months ago had let him through and then
watched him retch his jealousy out.
"Why does it have to be here, of all places?" Haruka grumbled, and made his way through the
vacant nightclub he had visited once before. The place looked gray without the colourful
lights that would later turn the dirty, stained ground into dance floors; chipped, smoke-
scented furniture and walls into a magical space where people came every night to have fun,
to forget what could be forgotten.
It was too early for regular visitors, or for any sane person to enter this place. Haruka lingered
in front of the last door—only stairs, that he had run up once upon a time, separated him from
the person that he was sure he could never face again.
A soft touch on his shoulder roused him from looking around the nightclub when he couldn't
postpone it anymore—searching for something he didn't want to see.
"You've come," Sousuke said, and Haruka understood that this was finally the day he was
going to fall apart. "You always come when he needs you."
"Yeah."
"Gou watches over him while I'm at work, and when we both can't Moshi there keeps an eye
on him." Sousuke motioned toward the bartender, who lifted his hand from the glass he was
polishing behind the counter. "He lets him in anytime he wants to come, too. We're glad he's
here. At least—" Sousuke hesitated. "At least he's not roaming the streets at night like
before."
Haruka closed his eyes, pulling on Sousuke's collar to bring him down. The kiss was tender
and warm on his lips—a waft of life through his dead body. "Did you call Gou to Tokyo so he
had someone when this happened? "
"I… yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Thank you," Haruka whispered and let go. Hands around his waist let him go like they
always did—secure but freeing, never caging him like the feelings he’d had all these years.
The feelings he couldn't deny while walking over the dirty ground to the back of the bar, not
even now.
Rin's eyes were closed, his body sprawled over the wine-stained couch. A young, black-
haired boy was nibbling on his neck, not getting any reaction, but it didn't seem to discourage
him.
"Fuck off," Haruka said when he couldn't bear the sight.
"Hey, are you—? Oh my fucking god, it is you! Ah!" The boy fled in fright when Haruka
took a step closer.
"Look what my mind came up with this time." Rin laughed hoarsely, opening eyes that made
up Haruka's world for so many years. "You look so real this time. I would almost believe."
"So much for substance abuse." Haruka kicked the spilled ashtray on the ground filled to the
brim with remnants of much more than cigarettes.
"I never claimed to be perfect."
"Nor did I." Rin eyed him as Haruka sat down next to him, grey-pale skin and sickly swollen
eyes speaking of many nights spent without sleep. Haruka sighed. "You're here. Of all places,
you chose here."
"Where else would I be? This is where it all started."
"And where it all ends."
Rin laughed—sound so broken it made Haruka regret coming here all over again. "You don't
get to say when it ends for me."
"You ended it for both of us."
"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" Rin raked his hair, pulling so hard on it he must have ripped some out.
"I called you. You didn't pick it up."
"I had work picking myself up."
"But you're doing good," Rin said—as if it was a sin, a horrible thing to have survived what
happened.
"Should I have just died? Is that what you wanted?"
"No, I…" He trailed off and curled into a ball as if kicked in the stomach—maybe he had
been, in his mind, from the way his face crunched. "Why are you here?"
"Not to make you feel better about what you did, if that's what you think."
Rin laughed. "Don't worry, nothing can make this better."
Haruka took a deep breath, trying to find ground under his feet. "I didn't come to make this
worse, either. I need to make peace with you, so we can move on, somehow. Forget and move
on."
"Can you do that? Forget?"
"I must." Haruka gritted his teeth. "So listen to what I came to say and do whatever you want
with it."
"I thought you had told it all." Rin nodded to the table in front of them, and Haruka looked at
the newspapers wearing his own face, covered with circles from numerous glasses, stains of
spilled booze and who knew what Rin had used to alleviate this.
"Not everything. No. This is for your ears only." He took a deep breath and started. Told it all
from the moment Rin's e-mails had stopped coming, through Hachi's beating, the hospital
with Sousuke, the offer he had gotten from his father in Enoshima. All the way to the
moment he had lain in Rin's arms that fateful night saying things he had never told anyone
else—and never would, because that kind of mistake a man made only once in a lifetime.
Rin was silent, but tears were streaking his face when Haruka finally looked up.
"I can't live without you."
"I can't, either. But one day it will be alright, I guess, if nothing more. We'll live on, even
though it will never be enough. For me, that is. You obviously have it different."
"Don't go just yet." Rin's touch was feeble on his wrist as Haruka stood up, fingers weak as if
they were just as dead. "I dream of you each time I fall asleep."
Haruka swayed on his legs—this was too much. "You know what? You said I wasn't the one
you knew, and you were right. I wasn’t. I’m still not. The person you really dated was
someone out of your imagination. I could never keep up with him." He trailed off, unable to
be this close to the one who he had loved for so long—for naught. "It shocks you that people
change? Don't pretend to know someone when you were never there to witness them live.
You either chase your dreams on the other side of the ocean or you're there to see—you can't
have both." Haruka was shaking terribly. "It takes years spent together to know a person, but
you always want to know everything at once, don't you? What if that person needed more
time to open up? What if they never learned how to let someone in? What if no one told them
how it's done? What if… what if they had been alone for so long that it was impossible to do
so, no matter how much they want to?"
The sound of his name was so quiet he might have made it up.
"Goddammit, this is not what I came here for." Haruka whirled around. "Pull yourself
together, Matsuoka. You're worth more than drinking yourself to oblivion every night. And I
—nobody wants this for a partner—someone who despairs indefinitely over one break-up."
"Stay. Please, please, stay."
"No. Not yet."
He ran up the stairs with fire on his heels, no shame, right into Makoto's arms, unable to bear
the flicker of desperate hope in the red eyes. The rest of his friends sprouted from the tight
circle they had been standing in. A pat from each of them as they ran down into the black
bowels of the club—a rescue party for a broken friend.
"You're the best, you know?" Makoto whispered into his hair. "Wanna go somewhere?"
"No, I want to be alone."
Streets were too narrow for this kind of ache, but there was nothing else to do but walk. A
lost man must move; demons scatter from every corner behind his back, never leaving
memories at peace. Pictures of happy moments, soft touches, kisses, laughter, all swirled
around him—a tornado of misery. And him—its eye.
"Sir, are you alright?" A small boy pulled on his sleeve when Haruka halted at the foot of a
fountain in the middle of a square. "You made a funny sound."
Haruka squatted down to him. "You know how it is when you have a really big boo-boo and
you don't want to cry? Sometimes you make a funny sound instead."
"You have a boo-boo?"
"Yeah."
"Where? I don't see any. In your shoulder?" he asked when Haruka pointed at himself.
Haruka smiled. "Somewhere close."
The boy leaned in and blew at his chest. "There. Now it's all better, isn't it?"
"Yeah." Haruka blinked rapidly, ruffling his hair. "Yeah… it really is. Thank you."
And it somehow was. He watched water running down the fountain's shapes and crevices,
gently cradling its marble body, forever imprisoned in the cool, sparkling embrace. He heard
every drop falling to the pool underneath it, felt a light sprinkling on his skin. Air smelled of
chlorine, and mold, and ice cream from the people running around, of their bodies sweating
in the late summer evening.
Every atom around him was dancing, trembling with life, and he could feel it. So many
weeks of numbness, slow death of a soul, and all it took was a short moment with Rin to set
everything aflame with life—beautiful realness. Haruka raised his face to the sky and gasped.
If nothing else, he was not dead anymore.

***
Dawn of the day arrived bright and fresh, drawing colourful shapes on the road in front of the
elegant building. Haruka raised his eyes to the elaborate letters of the restaurant's name on his
way to the back entrance and huffed nervously. A guy wearing a white apron smiled at him
encouragingly, his only free hand on a doorknob.
"And you would be?"
"Nanase Haruka."
"Oh. Oh! Right!" the guy exclaimed, bowing his head over the load of boxes in his arms.
"You're here early. Our manager said we shouldn't expect you before seven. Come on in."
"Is this alright?" Haruka motioned to his uncovered hair, unsuited for a food-preparing space.
"Yeah, no problem. I'll find you something inside. Welcome, by the way. I'm Yuri. I heard a
lot about you—Boss has been obsessed with your yakitori. Wouldn't shut up about it—you
must have impressed him. Thank god you decided to come, after all. He didn’t want to hire
anyone else, and our one and only cook was well on his way to hating you both. Have you
ever worked in a place like ours?"
"No." Haruka huffed a nervous laugh, looking around the kitchen swarming with people.
Some of them nodded, some of them waved. What looked like the head cook rolled his eyes.
"Don't worry." The guy named Yuri grinned wolfishly. "We won't eat you. If you're as good
as Boss claims, that is."
Haruka laughed. "That's very reassuring."
"Say… If you manage to survive this week I henceforth promise we won't make fun of you
for the rest of your life. And maybe we'll take you out for a welcome drink or something.
What do you say about that?"
"That…" Haruka hesitated and smiled. "That would be nice. Very nice, actually."
"Fantastic! Now let's get down to work. Follow Yuu over there—that big grumpy one in the
back—he'll show you everything. Yay! I must run! No time for fun. No time at all." The boy
bounced away cheerfully, not looking back.
Haruka stared at the black chef cap that Yuri had pushed into his hands for a while before
pulling it on. The kitchen smelled of rice and warmth and his grandma's miso soup. He
smiled for himself, choking a little.
It was well into the night when he closed the back door behind him, letting words of 'good
work', 'sleep well, you deserve it', and 'see you tomorrow' settle into his heart like emeralds
into fragile, beautiful jewellery. The sky was high, smog clouds dispersing to reveal a starry
view above his head.
He walked slowly from the subway station, taking a round route to stop at the konbini for the
juice that his mother drank every morning. Her deep, rich laughter rang from behind his door
while he was standing there, key in the lock, listening to it long after lights in the corridor had
gone off. Some stupid TV show was on when he joined her in the common room, accepting a
squeeze of her hand without word.
Happiness was a picture puzzle—maybe you didn't get to see the whole picture with a half of
the pieces missing, but you still could enjoy putting the rest together.
"I don't know, Makoto. Are you sure about that?" Haruka stared at the half-built creation on
the floor that didn't look at all like the one in the picture. He flipped a page of the instructions
to the beginning. "I think we might have forgotten something."
"What? No, we followed every step… Oh." Makoto cringed, looking where Haruka was
pointing on the page. "Well, that's what you get for asking me to help you build furniture."
"Yeah, I should have asked Rei."
"Or you should have bought real, traditional Japanese things instead of these European
jigsaws. Who has ever seen a bed in two hundred and seventy-three pieces? That's insane."
"I've only had one paycheck so far. I can't afford real things."
Makoto spread as long as wide on the floor and sighed. "I like this place. You've chosen
well."
"Yeah, Misaki likes it, too. It's close to my work. And not that far from you." Haruka looked
around his new apartment. Makoto's housewarming gift—a rachitic-looking plant—was
sitting on the windowsill, basking in the Sun that fell all over the floor like a golden flood.
"You know why I had to, don't you?"
"Yeah." Makoto smiled, eyes closed. "I do, Haru. It's alright."
"It's not that I don't want to be with you."
"Haru. It's okay. I'm glad, in fact. All those years… I guess I felt like you needed me
somehow. But now… Now I finally feel like I can let you go. Aww, like a little, baby brother
all grown up." Makoto yelped at the thick catalogue hitting his head.
"Shut up, you." Haruka smiled, then faltered. Screws and nuts in his palm glistened under the
shining light like diamonds of a treasure, only without the most sought gems—answers. He
exhaled shakily.
"Go ahead. Ask away."
"Ask what?"
"He's doing fine." Makoto rolled onto his side, head leaning on his hand. "Actually, he's
enrolled at the Tokyo police academy, can you believe it?"
"I wasn't asking anything."
"He seems to love it—at least that's what he says. Made some new friends there. He runs five
miles every day. Has stopped smoking. Eats healthily. He has no partner as of yet."
Haruka couldn't control wild currents moving in his chest. "And you're telling me this all
because—"
"Because you're dying to know."
"I'm not," Haruka growled, knowing he was caught. "Besides, what right do I have to know?
He's not a part of my life anymore."
"Isn't he?" Makoto's expression was gentle when they locked eyes—the kind of exchange that
didn't need words. "All I'm saying is it's been three months."
"And?"
"Three months and he's still hanging around. Will be around for a long time. And he keeps
asking about you every single day." Makoto laughed. "The other day we were sitting at
McDonald's, and Nagisa threatened that if he heard one more question about your work he
was going to leave. Five minutes later he really upped and left, without a word, leaving the
rest of us to cover his bill. Rei was particularly angry—you know how much Nagisa eats."
"I thought you said he eats healthily. McDonald's is hardly healthy food," Haruka rushed to
add under Makoto's amused stare. "He should eat a proper meal once in a while."
"I'll remember to tell him."
"Do whatever you want. And hand me that screwdriver. We must dismantle this thing
completely."
"Oh no." Makoto covered his face. "In the name of our friendship—let me rest. For a year or
so."
"I really should have asked Rei."
Makoto's eyes sparkled mischievously. "You know who we could ask?"
"Makoto."
"What? No?"
"One more word and I'll kick you out."
Makoto's deep laughter filled the small place up to the ceiling, alongside the citrusy scent of
tea and distant sounds of cars on the streets.
When the Sun set behind the horizon, Haruka stood in the middle of the yet empty kitchen,
fingers running along the shapes of his new home.
It was a good new life—far better than he could have hoped for three months ago. If it was
only a half-life—well, what could be done about it? He let out a deep breath and locked the
place behind him.
***
"Thank you very much for coming, Nanase-san," a long-haired reporter said, leading him
through the corridors of the newspapers' headquarters, into one of the smaller rooms adjacent
to the main journalists' grotto. "Have a seat, please. This is where we take interviews, it's
more private than other places. I hope you're comfortable enough?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Off the record first"—she smiled—"let me say our company is incredibly grateful to have
you, and we will do everything to accommodate any of your needs. Should you want
anything, please don't hesitate to ask. The podcast will be uploaded on Friday on our internet
site, but the main interview will be published in two days after you approve the transcript.
May we start, then?"
Haruka nodded.
"Alright," she said and turned the recorder on the table on. "It's been a week now since the
deceased body of a man, later identified as Chang Yan Chen, was found on the Tama river
bank—a person who, according to Taketchiro Corporation's public records, was listed as a
bank accountant of the company's Tokyo main station. The coroner report as of yesterday
excludes natural causes of death."
"Yes, he was murdered."
"By whom?"
Haruka smiled. "We will have to wait for the police investigation to finish first to have
concrete names. But what has been established at this point, beyond doubt, is that his death
can be attributed to the Yakuza group Tsukasa-gumi. They left their mark on the deceased
body."
"Wasn't he a part of the same group?"
"Yes, he was."
"Did you know this man personally?"
"Yes, when this group threatened me, as I have already described in my press statements, he
saved my life. Repeatedly."
"How so? What kind of interest did he have in your life?"
"None. He was a decent human being, that was his only reason."
"Do you believe his death may have connection to your acquaintanceship?"
"That's the main theory the police are working with."
"You have made publicly known that the Tsukasa-gumi group, ruled by Taketchiro Yuri, was
responsible for the disappearance of your father, renowned Japanese microbiologist, whose
contributions in the field of Parkinson's disease treatment are considerable. Has there been
any new information regarding his whereabouts?"
"No. My mother and I hope for the best outcome, but anyone who crosses ways with
Taketchiro's group is in mortal danger. Last time I heard from Chang Yan Chen I was told
they were holding my father prisoner. We can only guess what happened then—if he tried to
preserve my father's life as well—I wouldn't put it past the man. Whatever happened,
something has cost him his life."
"Why didn't you come forward earlier with all of this information?"
"I couldn't have made everything public—I was afraid for both of their lives. The police has
been aware all along."
"Considering your father might still be alive, aren't you afraid Tsukasa-gumi will use him to
seek revenge for you speaking publicly and destroying their public image?"
Haruka leaned forward, the chair screeching under his weight. "There is one thing they can't
make me do again—be afraid. It doesn't matter whose hands killed Chang-san, or who has
my father at the moment—we will find them. We'll make sure there won't be another murder
like his, or Ita-san's. It's time for the public to face Tsukasa-gumi's misdoings as they are."
"Thank you very much, Nanase-san. Now allow me one last question." The reporter smiled
amicably. "Having you finally here now, I cannot avoid addressing the incident at the
Championship in Doha, Qatar, which had been making headlines for weeks following your
and Matsuoka-san's participation. I'm aware you have presented your apology and
explanation, therefore I won't return to the incident itself. What our nation wants to know,
though, is whether Matsuoka-san has been supportive of your public declaration of war on
the Yakuza underground. Since his marvellous achievement at the Championship he has shied
away from the press and has not yet addressed any questions regarding your current stance."
She pushed a button on the recorder, grinning widely at Haruka. "You don't have to answer
this one. Management forced me to add it, so I did. Obviously they can't ask what they want
to the most—what the whole nation wants to know after the footage from that bar resurfaced
on the internet. I believe it's your right to keep your relationship private, though. So, feel free
to say 'no comment', and we'll wrap it up for today. Shall we?"
Haruka watched her finger hover over the record button. Ringing of telephones fought with
distant voices of journalists outside the open door; someone laughed, another cursed. The
reporter's eyes were smiling at him the whole two minutes it took him to nod.
Warm wind blew through the reddening trees of the school campus, making their leaves talk
in hushed voices. Haruka's hand was still warm from the marble of Chang's tomb, sunlit
under cemetery oaks, gold characters of his name etched into his memory.
Some people go with pomp, some go unnoticed, silenced in dirty river water. Some of them
lived through awards and prizes, some never had a chance for a good reputation. None of it
made up what the person was, who they were going to be in others' memories once they left.
"Pardon the intrusion." Haruka bowed deeply in the open door. "Your secretary said you
would have me now."
"Yes. Yes, of course, Nanase-san, do come in," the principal said, rising from behind his
table. "How have you been doing? Did I hear right that you have an exclusive interview
published in The Japan Times this morning? I haven't had the chance to get my hands on it
yet."
"I'm afraid yes."
"Afraid?" The principal laughed. "What's there to be afraid of?"
Haruka shrugged. "I'm not the type to enjoy attention."
"Aha. You'd prefer peaceful studying then, I assume." The principal grinned. "I received your
application for changing faculty departments recently. What was it again—Department of
Food and Nutritional Sciences? Alright," he said when Haruka nodded. "I don't see why not. I
believe you have redeemed yourself sufficiently for any misconduct in the past."
"Thank you. I hoped it would be possible. But, in fact." He hesitated. "I came today to ask
you for a favour."
"Did you?" The principal didn't hide his surprise.

"Yes."
"And what would that be?"
Haruka took in a firm breath. "I would like to cover all expenses Hagino-san has had and
possibly will have for treatment of the injuries I caused him. As an anonymous donor.
Possibly through the university funding, or any other way that you may suggest."
The principal's stare was unrelenting. "I heard his family withdrew all allegations against you
after your public appearance."
"That is of no importance."
"Then why? Why would you do that?"
Haruka looked at pristine, white cuffs hanging from the best suit he owned, as if the right
answer could be found there.
"A friend once told me that what I did didn't cost me anything. I don't know about that, but I
also feel it didn't cost me enough."
"Hey."
Haruka looked up from the texts from Yuri on his cell phone, meeting Misaki's mischievous
grin. "Hey. Was the gallery nice? You're in good spirits today."
"Ah, yes." She cleared her throat, terribly amused by something. "Are you done packing?"
Haruka pulled on the tight tie around his neck. "Yeah. I'll just change and take the boxes
down. Mine are in the common room. You should put yours there, like I asked you about a
million times already. I'll call a taxi once we're ready. Ah." He patted her back awkwardly
when he found himself crushed in a tight embrace. "What's that for?"
"Don't you think it's time?"
"Time for what?"
Misaki laughed into his ear, a deep warm sound. "What you've been working yourself up to
since forever."
Haruka closed his eyes—for a moment relishing that the world consisted of warmth, smell of
her perfume, and the feeling of safety—all of it swapped with mortal fear, excitement, and
something like anticipation.
"Now?"
"Why not now?"
He huffed nervously. "Tomorrow's just as good."
She pinched his cheek. "I won't like the idea more tomorrow, and you won't be more of a man
than you are now."
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
Haruka raked his hair. "I know how it's going to go. I'll panic and won't say a thing. Or I'll
panic and hang up before it even connects. Or he hangs up."
"Seriously, Haruka." She huffed, leaving the common room. "Making up excuses never got
anyone what they wanted."
That was easy for her to say.
He leaned on the cabinet for support, or courage, or just to not throw up. The condo was full
of the sounds she was making in the next room, of children's cries coming through the open
window, from the autumn-clad backyard where he had failed last time. Yuri's text pinged on
his phone, confirming he and other guys from work were coming to the housewarming party
tonight.
What a life he had seized after all, built out of scraps. Semi-perfection, glorious un-
satisfaction. A life he could live and regret every second of—if there was a chance, the
slightest possibility of more.
The phone trembled next to his ear when the sound of the front door shutting made him scan
the empty condo.
"Hello?" The call was instantly accepted.
Haruka whirled around, toppling Makoto's school books to the floor. "I… yes?"
"You are calling me."
"Ah, yes, right." Haruka cringed. "I… do you have a minute? I would like—I'd like to—how
have you been doing?"
"Fine," came the clipped answer, if a little breathless. "And you?"
"Alright. Could be better, I guess… are you running?"
"I'm going somewhere."
"Right."
"Haru."
"This is not going to take a lot of your time." He shut his eyes. "If you could only listen for a
moment—I know it's too late for talking or anything really—I just really, really, god, really
need you to know something. Not that you probably want to hear any of this."
"Whatever you want to say—"
"If I don't tell you now I'll call again. And again. And again until you let me say this."
Rin seemed to think about it, sounds of his steps resonating over the line. "Okay."
"You're beautiful. Inside and out, you're beautiful and I… and I know for a fact that you don't
know it. But you must. You must know. There's no one like you. You can do anything you set
your mind to. You are gentle, brave, strong."
"I'm not strong. "
"You put up with me long enough. Yes, you are strong." The old chair screeched under
Haruka's weight when he pushed his head between his knees. "And I know this… I know this
because I am none of those things. I am weak, and rough, and a coward.
"And you deserve so much better, I know. I know you have probably found someone else, or
soon will, someone normal," Haruka said, voice shaking. "Someone who… who can actually
say the words."
"Haru."
"But they were never any less true for me—you must know. If you forget everything about
me, that's okay, that's how it was supposed to be, I guess, only… only don't forget this one
thing. I've felt it." He pulled on his hair and stood up, unable to sit still while he was willingly
ripping his chest open for someone else. "I'm still feeling it. I always will—I know this—
because there just isn't another like you. No one sweeter, or smarter, or—"
The sound of heavy footsteps made him stop his restless pacing.
"Haru?"
Haruka looked up from his barely three-month old phone on the floor, display broken into a
million pieces, to the genkan where Rin was standing, hands in pockets of his leather jacket.
"I guess I should finally buy you one for all those I’ve destroyed." Rin shrugged awkwardly,
taking a few hesitant steps forward. "I was passing through the neighbourhood, so I thought
I'd drop by. If you were at home, that is. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't let me speak,
so…"
Haruka gaped at the hallucination in front of him.
"You're moving, I see." Rin was still talking. "I already heard, actually, before. From Makoto.
And other things, too. You could say something now, you know, this is getting weird."
"You're in my place."
"Technically it's not your place anymore."
"It's like in the movies."
A smile pulled on Rin's mouth—a sad, little movement. "But this isn't a movie, is it? I'm not
here for what you're thinking. I'm not getting back together with you."
It felt like hammer right in his heart. "Of course—you're not."
"After all, that's not why you called me, is it? To try it all again."
"Well, I…"
"You didn't really think that you could call and I would run to you like a loyal dog, did you?"
"No, I—"
"That I've been sitting around for months, waiting for you to beg me to come back. Or that I'd
take you back if you just asked nicely."
Haruka bowed his head. "No."
"Because that's not how it is. I wouldn't."
"You wouldn't." Haruka couldn't stop it—the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
"Not just if you say what you should have said long ago. I wouldn't."
"You wouldn't. Okay."
"It's not happening."
"I get it. I get it, already!" Haruka pushed against his aching ribs.
"Not until you tell me who you really are." Rin's eyes were hard when he looked up—nothing
Haruka had hoped for when he'd made the call, not this torture. "You said I never knew you. I
can't love someone that I don't know, don't you think? So tell me. Tell me who you really are
—all there is, plain and simple, so I can decide whether you're worth the effort."
Haruka blinked. "I… I don't know what to say."
"Try."
"I don't—"
"Try harder," Rin barked, confirming this really was not a movie. Not a fairytale. Loved ones
didn't put you through this in those.
"This is so fucked up." Haruka took hold of the kitchen table for balance, wanting to throw
the man in front of him out of the door, flip a finger at him, and lock the door behind. "You're
fucked up."
"Fine."
"I'm me," he cried out loud—anything to make Rin turn from the door. "I curse, and I lie,
when I don't know what else to do. Okay? Is that enough of the truth for you?" He swayed on
his legs. "I lied to you many times. Remember that damned couch in the common room that
we never had? I was so desperate to sleep next to you, like we did that one time in
Melbourne. I'd do anything to have you in my bed—then and now, too. Fuck!"
Haruka wiped at his running eyes with a sleeve. "I'd lie and cheat and maybe even murder if
you only teased me enough. And I'm scared. I'm fucking scared of many things, but mainly of
you, because no one has ever had this much power over me." Rin's eyes were wide, but he
had asked for this. "I'm the guy who spent his life swimming because that was the only
interesting thing about me—the only thing you found cool enough to look at me for.
"I'm the guy who is so used to pretending he doesn't care, because it actually hurts less that
way when you all leave. And you always leave—don't say that you don't. I'm… I'm the guy
who's been in love with you since the moment you turned your beautiful, bright eyes my way.
I'm crazy about you, and months or years can't change a thing about that."
Haruka tried to ignore the wobbly step that Rin took towards him, expression of utter shock.
The shaking that took over him made it hard to speak, or even stand, but the strange freedom
in his chest dulled that ache.
"I can't help it—I'm not who I was in high school—who you used to know. I'm sorry if it
disappoints you all the time. But you're also not who you used to be, because I don't
remember you ever enjoying torturing me just for fun."
"I don't—" Rin was way too close to not touch, so Haruka did.
"But you're also standing here instead of boarding a plane to leave the country like you would
have in the past, so don't say I'm the only one different."
"I got a phone call," Rin said, accepting Haruka's fingers between his as if it was a natural
thing instead of a miracle. "Troy Martin called. We talked a lot. He wants me back on his
team in Sydney."
"Sydney?" Haruka whispered. "Are you…?"
"You moron," Rin spat. "Did you really learn the whole damn language so you could follow
after me? To Australia? Or did he make that up?"
Haruka laughed—wasn't this the best time for every revelation possible? The skin of Rin's
cheek felt soft under his fingertips, and he was allowed to touch—unbelievable.
"Is it so surprising that I'm not stupid?"
"You learned to speak the way I heard you talk with Jane in under a year? Are you insane?
That's genius, not just smart."
"Want me to prove it to you?" Haruka grinned into the beloved scent of Rin's shoulder. "You
weren't just passing by today, were you?"
"No. I was sitting on the bench in the park in front of your house."
"You weren't there for the first time."
Rin's chest heaved with a sigh under his ear. "Almost every day for the last month or so—
ever since I got that phone call."
"Why didn't you come?"
"Why didn't you call earlier?"
Haruka looked up at the sound of paper rustling—from an envelope, crumpled from months
of being carried around, to Rin's half-smile.
"What's that?"
"Can't you figure it out? Mister smartass."
"Why?" Haruka gaped on the scribbles in unfamiliar hand-writing, in places smudged by

stains. It was hard to read with the way the paper shook in his hands, but no doubt it was
Jared's letter. "Do you want me to… do you want to destroy it?"
"Yes. I do. Later." Rin took it back, folded and threw it onto the kitchen counter. "I need to set
something straight first."
"What," Haruka started to say, but wasn't able to finish.
"I never thought you would actually say it out loud," Rin whispered into his mouth, hands
gripping Haruka's face so he couldn't do much but accept the open-mouthed kisses, even if he
didn't want them. Even if he had strength enough to stand as Rin's body pressed him into the
refrigerator's cool surface, toppling Makoto's calendar off of it.
"That wasn't very straight," Haruka said when he could.
Rin laughed and whined. "I missed your humour."
"I missed your everything."
"Two points. One—I've messed up many times, but to convince the only guy I ever lusted
after that I didn’t want him is my personal record." Haruka hissed at the fantastic friction
between their bodies. "Two—while you look gorgeous in this fucking perfect suit, I'm afraid
I'll have to take it off, soon."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, but," Rin said, pulling Haruka's shirt out of his pants in one swift motion and
pushing hot hands underneath. "I’ve had three months of nights to regret that I didn’t take
everything that I could, when I could."
"But this isn't… very romantic."
"I'm very successfully cured of romance, thank you very much."
"What about my mom?" Haruka chuckled when the fridge behind his back moved along with
them. "What if she returns?"
Rin growled. "Can you not talk about your mother now? She sent me up, I'm sure she got a
clue."
Haruka moaned into his mouth then, too far gone to argue anymore. Nagisa would have to
cure his trauma somehow, and it only served Makoto right for the nightmares Haruka still had
about him and his girlfriend. "Yes," he said when Rin's leg went between his thighs and firm
hands grabbed his ass. It seemed impossible to pull closer, but Rin managed somehow.
"Say my name."
"I love you."
"Fuck." Rin bucked—a clear message that they weren't going to make it to the bed at this
rate. "What the hell—what are you doing?" He scowled when Haruka pushed him off and
away.
"There. The room," Haruka panted. "Wait there."
"What? What are you looking for now, of all times?"
"Go. There. Right now." Haruka cursed when boxes of his packed things didn't show him
what he was looking for instantly.
"This better be good."
"Yes," Haruka exclaimed with joy, scrambling to his feet and running for Makoto's room.
"This might be the dumbest revenge for…" Rin's awed eyes slowly moved over the makeshift
rain of pink petals falling from the ceiling all around him. The door lock clicked safely under
Haruka's hand before he sprinkled another handful over the bed. "How? Where did you get
those?"
"Remember the day we brought you to the pool to swim in sakura petals? Nagisa collected
them that evening to dry them." Haruka chuckled, throwing the empty box away. "I stole
them later—he was never the wiser, and they never meant as much to him. I found them
again while I was packing for moving. What do you say?" Haruka asked, walking slowly
closer. "Was it worth the wait?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad," he said, watching Rin's eyes darken nicely in contrast with the pink colour of a
petal that Haruka took from his hair and ran down to caress his lips. "Because you might have
been cured of romance, but I was, quite on the contrary, cured of other things." He touched
Rin's face everywhere—tender little kisses of his fingertips. "Things like foolishness and
rushing things in general."
"Of greed, too?"
"No, I'm still horny pretty much anytime I think of you."
Rin chuckled, then faltered. "I read your interview."
"I hoped you would."
"Did you mean it? Do you want to know what I think? About you, about everything you're
doing?"
"I wouldn't have asked you through the biggest newspaper in Japan if I didn't."
"Then," Rin whispered to Haruka's lips, so close they were touching at every other word.
"Know that I think that it's amazing. I think you were right that I never knew you, because I
didn't have a clue that you could be so strong and brave and gentle. And ever since I read it
this morning I've been panicking that I've lost the most amazing man I've ever met."
"Rin."
"I want to make love to you. I want to do it every day of our lives, if you let me. Maybe even
twice a day, to make up for these lost months." He nudged their noses together when Haruka
laughed. "Let me. I know I've got no right to ask you this, and we might try it any other way
later, if you'd like, but now… but now… "
Rin stumbled when Haruka pulled him along to the bed. No one needed permission to touch,
to laugh at the way Armani shirts were impossible to unbutton when all four hands were
shaking like crazy, to place kisses on every place available.
"Do you think Makoto is going to burn these sheets?" Rin asked, pale skin wonderfully
shining against the dark blue fabric everywhere Haruka's eyes lingered.
"I think he's going to burn the bed," he said, and Rin laughed, eyes brighter than the stars. He
had to kiss their corners. "We don't have to tell him. But he'll see right through me the very
first second anyway."
"Oh, great. Is there no way to keep secrets from him? Of any kind?"
"I'm not going to keep secrets from now on. I'll tell them all tonight. You are coming to the
party, aren't you?"
Rin grinned. "I've been pissed ever since I heard about it. You really planned to shut me out,
didn't you?"
"I only learned from the best."
"Idiot. It was not the same, and you know it." Rin licked traces between cherry petals
scattered haphazardly on Haruka's chest.
"Ah, not to rush you or anything…"
"Yeah," Rin said, voice hoarse, and moved like perfection. "Do we have something? You
know. I didn't bring anything." Haruka really didn't have much strength to tease, not with
someone terrorizing his nipple like that.
"Under the bed."
"Well." Rin laughed, looking through the contents of the satchel. "That's quite an
improvement in comparison to what I found under your bed last time. What was it—a
waterfall magazine?"
Haruka licked long wet stripe up a perfect hip. "You are my waterfall now." Rin's eyes were
oddly glazed when he pinned him to the sheets.
"Then… can I fuck you now?"
"Yeah." Haruka shuddered.
Rin opened his body with patience, trembling fingers, tenderness, and even with his mouth
when on the third try Haruka's body still refused to give in. He wouldn't even know
something was happening if it wasn't for the blush creeping down Rin's chest and waves of
pleasure that awed him.
"Baby, love, can I move now? No? Okay," Rin said when Haruka shook his head, gasping
into his shoulder. He groaned in frustration. "I don't know—I'm sorry, it's been too long since
I… and you're too sexy. Jesus, you feel like paradise." He raked his hair. "What's up? Does it
hurt?" A shaking thumb wiped on the corner of Haruka's leaking eyes. "Should I go out? I'm
going out."
"No." Haruka gripped on the hips already pulling away. "I'm just…" He tried, and failed—
trying to explain how unbelievable it felt. He had spent three months thinking he was done
for, first of them so down that he was sure the universe had disowned him. And suddenly Rin
was here, looking down on him like he was a dream come true, breath a little hitched,
magnificently messed up hair falling into Haruka's face. "I'm just happy. And you're so
lovely. I want to be with you."
"You are."
"No, I… you don't understand." Haruka faltered. "Each day I came home from work and
imagined you were sitting there while I talked. I told you about the guys, about their stories.
About that sashimi I made the other day, that the Boss said was the best anybody has ever
made in our restaurant. About all the stupid things I liked and hated and all that. And every
day I turned around and you were not there. Anytime Nagisa made a joke I opened my mouth
to tell you, and you weren't there. I walked into any room, and you weren't there."
"Haru."
"I want to be by your side every day, in the mornings and when you go to sleep. I want to
feed you proper food instead of what you eat now." He gasped when Rin laughed and moved
in him too rough. "I want to give you everything."
"I want your everything." Rin kissed him, ever so gently. "But I must be doing something
wrong if you're still able to talk so much."
There was nothing wrong about the way Haruka cried out then—weak under the skillful
ministrations of the man in his arms, stronger than he had ever been on his own. Taller and
older now, he would be able to live on alone, but life was never fully lived without the one
your heart sought the most.
And there was everything: sunlight pouring through the blinds and red strands like warm
wine, soft curses choked into his hair. Funny sounds and laughter shared between two
mouths, dips and hollows under his hands, hot blood. One glowing afternoon that would
never be forgotten. A dusty room, a borrowed bed—also a ship sailing through the ocean of
mundane life, a colourful vessel. Carrying two flawed, imperfect people that could only ever
be happy this way—together.
The second time Rin worked inside of his body Haruka was still only half awake. He spread
his legs wider, welcoming pleasure and the pain, because love was both at the same time—a
wound and a knife in it. Behind him Rin grunted his approval, kissing his shoulders, and
embarked on the journey of making Haruka come apart all over again.
Light of the day slowly faded away, breaking into one of the last warm nights of the year.
Autumn colours gave way to yellowness of the street lighting, but the world had never had
more colour as when Rin made him lose balance with a kiss, making books tumble out of the
boxes in their arms. Everything felt sharp: the stab of pain over Misaki's note, viciousness of
Rin's embrace in the middle of her room void of all her things. Also the scent of food in his
brand new kitchen, ready to be served to his guests running late; the shock on their friends'
faces as Rin came out to stand by Haruka's side when they finally fell into his apartment like
a cheerful avalanche.
Rin rolled his eyes, his hand going around Haruka's waist. "Yeah, it's like that."
Exclamations filled the small place up to the ceiling. They both were smothered with hugs,
pats on their heads, and this feeling, the strangest feeling of all, that everything was as it was
supposed to be. Written in someone's book—this moment must have happened. So when they
looked at each other through the room full of people and Haruka mouthed those three words,
they knew then—they had to be lost first, in order to find each other.
For the rest of their lives.
Chapter End Notes
So, guys,
Did any of you honestly think that I would write this without a happy ending, haha?
Seriously? :D
There should've been a short epilogue uploaded with this chapter, but as you see, it's not.
It's caused by nothing else than it not being ready for uploading just yet, we're working
hard on it, so bear with us. If any of you care enough to read it it should hopefully be
uploaded next Tuesday as per usual.
I will also say my goodbyes then, so for now... good night or good morning, depending
on where you are, I love you all, and I hope to hear from you in comments. In
comments, guys, haha!
Epilogue
Chapter Notes
Hi guys,
Sorry you had to wait for this. Enjoy now and please, read the end notes♥️.
The apartment was silent, night around accentuating every sound Haruka was making as he
tiptoed into the kitchen. He cursed as he hit the table's corner, not seeing a thing in the dark.
Still, he wouldn't turn the light on—it was annoying through the glass panel of the bedroom
door.
A hand-written note was pinned on the clumsily-wrapped mackerel sandwich in the fridge:
'Don't laugh, just eat it'. Haruka chuckled and inhaled it in one go before he made his way
into the bathroom. A pile of clothes sat on the washing machine—his own pyjamas, a clean
towel, a new razor that he had been too lazy to go buy for a month. He managed to smile at
himself in the mirror and rushed through the shower.
Hastily dressing, he hurried around the screeching pieces of floorboard and left the bedroom
door ajar behind him.
"Uhm, cold feet," the sleeping figure mumbled when Haruka pressed himself as long as wide
into Rin's back. "Oi, your hands, too."
"It's freezing outside."
"How did it go?"
"Fine." Haruka breathed in deeply the scent of Rin's hair and wrapped his limbs around his
warm body. "That dumbass denied he beat me, or has ever seen me, but that's alright. I wasn't
going to press charges anyway. At least we finally know what exactly happened." Haruka
sighed into Rin's neck, heart twitching oddly. "I still can't believe he killed Taketchiro. I
mean, yeah, obviously something must have happened since I'm still alive, but… it's weird.
It's lacking closure somehow."
"Did they let you see him? Hachi, I mean."
"Yeah. I'm the only one who has met him in person. The police wanted me to identify him."
"So that's why they called."
"Yeah."
Sheets rustled when Rin shifted closer into his embrace. "How was it?"
Haruka blinked into the darkness of their bedroom. Pictures of Chang's dead, swollen,
unrecognizable face that he had been shown swam before his eyes. His stomach turned all
over again.
"It's hard to put together what exactly happened from Hachi's blabbering, but…" Haruka
sighed. "The most likely version is that Chang convinced Taketchiro that he and Hachi would
watch over my father and break him down until he agreed to work on LEVO again—you can
imagine how.
"They were given a go—apparently Taketchiro trusted Chang a lot. He had been stalling then
—Taketchiro wanted to kill my father when no progress was being made, but Hachi claims
that Chang kept convincing him again and again—for weeks—that between the three of them
they would surely make him cooperate. If only they were given enough time."
Haruka shut his eyes firmly against the warm nape. "Only Hachi is as dumb as they come, so
little did he realize that the guy he had been torturing all that time was someone else, not my
father." Rin whirled around to face him, eyes wide. "Yeah, no one knew until the day my
press statement was published and Taketchiro went completely haywire. Hachi said he
personally went to question the guy and shot him on the spot."
"Chang?" Rin breathed, incredulous.
"No, the poor guy that Chang used instead of my father. What happened to Chang then was
worse."
In the silence of the room Rin licked his lips, hesitating. Haruka stroked his shoulder, waiting
to be asked.
"He's alive? Your dad."
Haruka laughed, darkly. "Probably. You remember when Misaki went to search for him and
couldn't find a thing? Not a single trace?" He shrugged. "He most likely fled Tokyo for real
that time after I met with him. Not giving a damn about anything or anyone, not even when
Taketchiro was declared missing and the whole world thought he was hiding somewhere,
licking his wounds. No, he's probably been living a brand new life somewhere, working on
his experiments. That's all that ever interested him, anyway. I'm sure he already has a new
servant instead of my mom."
"Haru."
"No, that's just the way it is. Mister morality of the year—as long as no one bothers him with
anything." Haruka couldn't fight the bitterness in his voice. "The only thing that really pisses
me off in this whole thing is Chang. I'm glad Hachi put a stop to it when he couldn't watch
them torturing him anymore, and Taketchiro sure as hell deserved what he got, but nothing of
this would have happened if only…"
"If only what? If you didn't make that press statement? If your father wasn't a dick? If he and
his people had never created LEVO? If Chang wasn't trying his best to save your life? You
realize he must have known all along they would see through his charade."
"Yeah." Haruka breathed out, inching closer to Rin. There was little to say after everything
had finally become clear, dust settling. Only silence remained—in the custody suite where
Hachi had locked his sad, doggy eyes with his in unspoken understanding—in this bedroom
where Rin's knuckles were softly stroking his hand.
What odd ways life had—rolling over people like unpredictable waves of the sea, some of
them pulling down as if all that effort to swim, to keep desperately on the surface, was just a
funny game. He wondered what his mother was going to say about all that.
"Are you sleepy?" Rin asked quietly. His eyes were glistening in the dark, searching Haruka's
face. He shook his head. He was many things at the moment, but sleepy wasn't one of them.
"Wanna fuck?"
"Yeah," Haruka whispered. "I think. Yeah."
It was quick, and rough, nothing short of brutal. It was exactly what he needed at the
moment.
The moon shone on the snow-clad city outside as he stared at the white street through the
window, thinking about Rin's desperate 'I'm so happy you're alive. So, so happy I could die',
whispered right before his orgasm hit him. It dipped the bedroom and his sleeping lover in a
dream-like silver light. Not a night, not a day—a magical hour in a fairytale land where
ghosts were coming alive.
He curled into Rin's embrace, back to his chest and fell asleep instantly.
***
First thing in the morning he was kicked out of the warm bed, no expletives strong enough to
explain that Saturdays were meant to be spent by sleeping in, fucking, in worst case reading
—especially pre-Christmas ones. His objections were put to an abrupt stop when Rin
sauntered into the bedroom wearing nothing but jammers, tossing the very same thing into
Haruka's sour face.
He was left to swim indefinitely from one wall of the pool to another without constant
annoying yabbering at his side, or an invitation to race—a shocking, but for once welcome
change to their usual routine. Rin was swimming his laps in an adjacent line, focused and
calm, ripples of his body through the water sending Haruka feelings of the very same kind.
Even that ceased at one point or another, and Haruka lifted his eyes for a second to locate Rin
on the running mill of the adjacent gym. Still there, never too far. He dove back under the
surface, feeling something strange pulling on his heart, loosening knots in his stomach until
only a comfortable fatigue remained.
"Feeling better?" was the only question he got during the entire subway ride home, Rin's
hand firmly wrapped around his fingers. He nodded, trying to remember the recipe for that
teriyaki beef soup that Rin loved so much, and stared at the old man that couldn't stop glaring
at their entwined fingers from the other side of the car.
Rin's arm was suddenly warm around his shoulders, his laughter soft in Haruka's hair, and a
red tinge on the old man's cheeks as he was trying to look elsewhere but at them.
They would have to stop at a konbini before they got home.
"I thought you wanted to eat first," Haruka managed in between kisses, his back hard-pressed
against the front door by an already half-naked Rin.
"Not hungry"—Rin pulled on Haruka's jeans with fervour—"and besides, you're way too
busy these days, running to and fro between school and the restaurant. I must seize any
moment possible."
"We've got, ah, a few more hours left."
"That's too little. How many times did you come home late this week? Hmph? How many
was it?"
"Two," he whimpered—the sound stolen by an eager kiss. He gripped Rin's hair to pull his
mouth where he wanted it the most—sharp teeth nipping on his neck.
"No. It was four. You work way too much."
"Says the one who has to patrol on Saturday."
"It's just an afternoon," Rin growled. "I told you it's part of the grades, I couldn't say no. And
I didn't make the fucked-up schedule."
"I know."
"I wouldn't choose today, but it's out of my hands."
"I know." Haruka chuckled at the pouting in Rin's voice.
"Stop distracting me. You should rest more."

"I'm resting enough." He yelped when strong hands heaved him from the ground and carried
in the direction of their bedroom. He held on Rin's shoulders and hips automatically,
laughing. "We must put these things in the fridge, you know."
"You're going to rest now. Doctor's orders."
Haruka laughed. "Since when did sex with you mean rest?"
Incidentally, this time it had.
Haruka stretched on the bed, the thorough massage he had been given before the best part of
the program had made his muscles relaxed, as if melting off his bones. He had even dared
doze off during the slow, lazy fucking, but Rin's pinch and unamused glare had quickly
brought him back to reality.
He chuckled at the memory, relishing in the way the glistening of a silver chain
complimented paleness of Rin's naked back.
"Stop, it’s cold." Rin's hand swatted the tickling away. "What… what are you doing?"
"Nothing."
Sleepy red eyes opened to watch the chain travelling down along the muscles of his arm.
"What's that?"
"Merry Christmas. I know it's early, but since tomorrow we're leaving for Iwatobi I thought
that I'd give it to you now. There's gonna be your mom and Gou and… you know. It feels
right to do it now."
"It's…" Rin glared at the chain swinging in his fingers now as if it was a hallucination. His
eyes inevitably found Haruka's own where a pendant of a dolphin was missing. "I didn't
notice you’d taken it away."
"It's not the same one. They both are not." Haruka took hold of Rin's wrist to stroke the warm
skin there and pulled it closer to his chest. "These two are actually magnets." He smiled at
Rin's scowling, confused face. "So they attract each other. See?"
"Oh." Rin blinked when two pendants stuck to each other from where they hung on two
similar silver chains.
Haruka leaned over him to kiss his lips and whispered, "So anytime we kiss, or make love,
they'll find each other."
"You," Rin barked from under him. "You… I bought you a book. A book. You gave me the
best present ever, and I bought you—"
"A book, I heard." Haruka laughed, tracing Rin's jaw with fingertips. "I like books. Is it the
one I think it is?" Rin huffed, exasperated. "Because if it is, then I'm very happy." He nudged
their noses together. "It is in English, isn't it?"
Rin scowled terribly. But inevitably, just like Haruka's stomach growled from the lack of
lunch, his eyes went soft, filling with water, watching the light reflecting from the spinning
pendant.
"Don't cry." Haruka laughed into his neck.
"Shut up," Rin retorted, but without venom. "When did you become a romantic? I thought it
was my thing."
"Yeah"—Haruka cringed—"you have a terrible influence on me. Soon I'll be singing love
songs under your window."
Rin laughed—a soft, bubbling sound. "Thank god my windows are your windows. It
wouldn't do for our neighbours to go deaf." Haruka smiled, waiting. And finally, like the Sun
rises above the horizon every morning, a glorious, toothy smile spilled over his face. Haruka
pulled Rin's hand away when he tried to cover it. "I… thank you."
"You're very welcome."
"No, I mean it… thank you. For everything. For doing all this." A soft red hue coloured his
face and Haruka couldn't stand not to kiss this fool. "For making me happy."
"Are you?"
"Yeah."
Haruka's heart constricted. "I'm glad."
Noon was long gone, and he really should go have a bath, put some clothes on, and start
cooking lunch.
Impossible. Pulling a woollen duvet over them both, Haruka burrowed deeper into the sheets
and refused to move a muscle. From other side of the pillow Rin was looking back at him,
light smile in his red eyes. If the planet Mars had oceans, those would be the deepest of them.
And he—a swimmer, forever free to wade through.
It seemed to be a day for leftovers, anyway.
***
Haruka let a dipping sauce drip from a spoon onto his tongue and nodded; it had just the right
amount of sour and sweet. He looked over the tables spread along the walls of the bookstore's
wide space. Steam was rising from the full platters, mixing with scents of books, champagne,
and expensive perfumes. Yuri sent his thumb-ups from the kaiseki table. Everything was
going smoothly.
"It doesn't look too bad." Haruka looked over his shoulder to see the only person who could
use a conversation opener as such and still sound conceited. Anna refused to meet his eyes.
"The food, I mean."
"Oh, that must have hurt."
She cringed. "You have no idea."
Haruka cleared his throat, chuckling. "Thank you. So, these trays should keep the food warm,
and those over there cold, for as long as you want. Just tell Yuri or me if guests particularly
like something and it's running out. We have more in the back room just in case."
"Fine."
"So?" he asked when she didn't seem eager to leave. "Is there anything else I can help you
with?"
On the other side of the bookstore Rin was bickering over something with Sousuke, earning a
rough clap on his back. When his hair got ruffled he didn't seem to enjoy it any better. Haruka
smiled, meeting Rin's eyes. There was longing in them.
"I still don't like you, you know." Anna's voice brought him back to reality.
"Ditto."
"But you're not utterly stupid."
Haruka laughed. "You're still utterly bitchy, though." Something like a smile pulled on her
mouth before she schooled her expression back to blankness. "Congratulations on your book,
by the way. It's not entirely bad."
"Yeah, as if you would know. Don't steal anything," she said and left Haruka to check on the
platters for the last time. If he couldn't fight an amused smile off, it was just fine.
"Hey, everything alright?" Haruka pulled on Rin's wrist ten minutes later, once he made his
way through the chattering crowd.
"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? Geez, what are you thinking? Everything's perfect."
Haruka lifted his eyebrows, and Sousuke next to them outright laughed.
"Right."
"It's her, again," Rin spluttered. "You're mom. Why doesn't she like me? It's been a year, and
she still fucking hates me."
"That's not true." Haruka sighed.
"No? I tried to talk to her a while ago like we agreed. She said in front of like seven other
people that I have a terrible fashion sense."
Sousuke laughed. "Well, she's not exactly wrong."
"I'm wearing a fucking uniform, for crying out loud." Rin huffed. "Why wouldn't she like me,
though? I don't get it."
"Well," Sousuke drawled. "You're loud, and annoying, have weird red hair, and way too many
facial expressions. And you've broken her boy's heart."
"That was a long time ago," Rin growled, reddening in an instant.
"Did you give her the flowers we bought?" Haruka whispered, wrapping his arm around Rin's
waist. Sousuke got the message instantly when their eyes met and with a wink left them on
their own.
"Yeah. Obviously she doesn't like daisies."
Haruka sighed—that was an apparent lie. "Forget about her for now, okay? She'll come
around, eventually."
"I know, it's just… how long is it going to take?" Rin's fingers were jittery in Haruka's hand.
"She even refused to come along with us to Iwatobi for the holidays. She'd rather be with
strangers than with me. You have to spend it without your mom—because of me." He raked
his hair. "Ah, whatever. You want to stay here?"
Haruka eyed him. "Do you?"
"No. I've had enough of these snotty people. I want to be with you."
Haruka nodded and led the way out. The clapping of guests filled the place, and he spotted
Anna standing in the centre of the crowd with a smile he had never seen on her face before.
Snow glittered under their feet—a million diamonds to walk over. Haruka closed his eyes,
safely led by Rin's arm around his shoulders.
One way or another, for him it was always about sounds. Like now. Crunching under their
aligned steps, cars' honking in the distance, small indignant huffs of Rin's breath.
"You know what?" Haruka said, trying not to choke on this feeling that had nothing to do
with his thick woollen scarf. "Next year we can stay here and maybe have your mom and
Gou over if they'd like. We can all spend it together with Misaki. But this year… I don't care
where we are. I just want to be with you."
Rin hummed, still gloomy.
"And by the way, I think she's just jealous." Haruka laughed at the truth that would have been
unimaginable two years ago. "She knows I love you the most."
"Stop mollifying me," Rin grunted, but there was a definite tick at the corner of his lips.
"Also, you were right. About me working too much."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And I already talked with the Boss. I've swapped shifts—I'll be home at six every
other day." He smiled when Rin halted in the middle of the street, eyes wide.
"Wasn't it a problem?" Rin breathed out a gust of frozen mist.
Haruka wiped a lone snowflake that fell under his eye and shrugged. "I told him I want to
spend more time with family."
Street lighting glistened in Rin's eyes, dispersing the last remnants of gloom. "Come on. That
series I've been talking about is starting soon."
Haruka laughed when Rin pulled him behind like an overgrown-child, both slipping on the
ice-covered ground. Giggling and running to their home, hands and hearts intertwined,
towards a night spend by watching TV, or rather talking and making love.
To warmth, to the book of Gone with the Wind on Haruka's night stand.
The sky was hanging low, pink clouds hiding the billions of stars, but he didn't care. He had
learned by now that those that counted were in the eyes of the one he loved.
Chapter End Notes
Hello, guys!
So. It's done... After too many years I've finally managed to get this finished, haha, I can
barely believe it. God, there was so much I wanted to tell you, but now that I'm actually
writing this only a few words come to mind.
First and foremost, I'm absolutely happy that I made that silly and careless decision to
upload the very first chapter all those years ago, although it took more than one beer for
me to get the courage then, and a moment of utter dread that I will never forget when I
realized I really did it, haha. It might have all stayed with one chapter stored in my
computer indefinitely, but I'm glad it didn't. Because writing this story has given me so
much—most of all it gave me marbled_maven, it gave me you, guys, and it gave me
months of what I love the most—writing.
I think this is the time to say thank you to you all. I'm happy and grateful from the
bottom of my heart that you have taken this journey with me, that you bore with me
when I thought I couldn't go on. You've been there for me when I needed support, and
for that a special thank you goes to Maria, the person who is most likely not around to
read this, but I feel indebted to. Thank you, thank you, thank you for words that made
me continue and finish this story. If, by any chance, anyone happens to know this
person, please let them know it's their doing.
Guys, I want to ask you to comment more. Not on my story, since I'm done here and
most likely won't come back, but on all those other stories that you love and hold dear.
You have no idea how much it means for an author to hear from you, sometimes it's only
one simple sentence that makes the difference between going on and forgetting the fic
altogether. YOU have that power.
Marbled_maven... jesus fu**ing christ, marbled_maven, how could I ever be so lucky to

get to know you? No words in this universe can express how much I appreciate you,
how much I like you as a person and love you as a friend. I swear I'm going to write for
the rest of my life, if for nothing else than for keeping you around, haha. ♥♥♥
Now on a different note. You probably remember that once upon a time in the notes at
the very beginning I said I wanted to try writing an ultimate fic that would satisfy my
then obsession, haha. I can say now that—while the obsession is long gone—I'm really
happy with the outcome. It isn't perfectly written, it has many flaws and I would've most
likely rewritten it all if I wasn't that lazy, but... In the verse I have created our two idiots
are happy, and together, and in love, and having regular sex, haha—which is all I ever
wanted for them. So, I guess I did it (patting myself on the shoulder, haha).
Along the way some of you said that I was too cruel, some comments actually accused
me of torturing my characters and readers without purpose, which has never been true.
While I don't necessarily need to defend myself, I also want you to understand why I
made them go through all that shit. I wanted them to be happy forever. It's that simple.
And while I always felt that those two guys are destined to love each other, I couldn't
imagine them actually understand each other, talk with each other, do all this normal,
boring stuff that actually makes the integral part of every functioning relationship.
This story was nothing but an accelerated course in loving and knowing each other,
thank you very much. And yes, I may be a sadist when it comes to my characters, I put
them through the worst, BUT HOW COULD SOME OF YOU THINK I WOULDN'T
GIVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING is beyond me. I am not insane, haha.
Anyway, there's not much left to say. I asked Marbled_maven for a few words at the
very end, since she was such an integral part of creating this thing, so there you go. I
wish you all nothing but the best, be happy in your life, and may you all find true love
like our two idiots, just without screwing it all in the process, haha.
Love you all,
Enceladus
—
Hi everyone!
First of all, thank you Enceladus for all the hard work you’ve put into writing and
finishing this story. You are so amazing!! If there is one thing that sticks with me the
most from this story, it’s the characters. Each and every character, to varying degrees,
had times when I agreed with them and times when I didn’t, when they were courageous
or too afraid, insecure and lashing out or selfless and kind, vindictive, apathetic, noble,
passionate—like real, multifaceted human beings. So thank you for bringing these
characters to life!
I’ve been beta reading this fic for so long, I can’t help but feel attached to this story. It
feels surreal to be saying goodbye, but I’m glad it was able to be finished and shared
with you all. So thank you everyone who has been reading, I hope you enjoyed it as
much as I did!
~marbled_maven
♥️Youtube playlist♥️
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!

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Gone with the water

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3183050.

So Rin is visiting Tokyo.

And he didn’t want Haruka to know a thing about it.

NOTE: NOW BETA-ED!!! My endless gratitude and indebtedness go to

One way or another, for him it was always about sounds.

Fabric rustling under his head. His own breathing.

Nothing strange, nothing new, nothing exciting.

Either way, the outcome was ever the same.

January 17, 2014, 21:29

January 20, 2014, 04:38

You will never beat me, Matsuoka.

February 21, 2014, 23:12

February 22, 2014, 05:26

I’m not an idiot. I could do it by myself, as you see.

24th of March is better.

Don’t promise what you can’t deliver, Rin-rin.

February 26, 2014, 22:46

Good night, Haru-chan.

February 27, 2014, 03:29

Why would she say hi? She doesn’t know me.

PS: Well, now you know.

February 28, 2014, 22:49

:)))))) Fine. Sooner’s better, no doubt.

Do you want me to bring something from Sydney?

Haru, is it too much to say I can’t wait?

March 1, 2014, 02:19

Roommate, who? I meant Makoto, of course.

It’s not too much, Rin.

March 10, 2014, 17:26

March 14, 2014, 23:19

March 16, 2014, 07:46

And then, nothing.

If only it was easier to fall asleep at nights.

I really did it, didn’t I? I forgot about the water.

The thought was hardly believable.

He was never too far from truth, when it came to Nagisa.

Rin would be visiting Japan. Soon.

And he knew nothing of it.

Friend. Was he, even?

So he hadn’t left yet?

“Haru, please, don’t be mad.”

It stunk of betrayal, anyway.

The door closed, at last.

It didn’t matter, he told himself, over and over again.

What had happened, then?

And that something was her, of course.

And it did again, eventually.

And not jump to any premature conclusions.

Sometimes he felt like laughing.

“Nanase-kun, let me ask you one question.”

“You do remember, don’t you?”

What the hell was going on?

Provided this wasn’t the nightmare itself.

“Here we go,” Tatano-san sing-songed before he answered the call.

It could have been, but it wasn’t.

He could actually really understand an actual Australian, an actual whole sentence.

He nodded. At that, the man gave him an apologetic shrug.

Haruka released a shaky breath.