"Beyond Reach"
By sevenfivetwo
Summary: Their wishful gazes never went full circle. The engagement was always brief, chaste and short-lived, secretly full of passion, exchanging silent words while everything remained unresolved, as if their throats hitched and they could only communicate through eye contact. But eye contact could never express their feelings accurately, despite how often it happened. Makoto/Rin angst!
Caution: This doesn't have a happy ending and has pretty heavy angst. I mean, I'm not very experienced in writing angst, so maybe I can't really judge, but I poured a lot of emotion into it. In fact, I was pretty emotional myself in the process of writing it.
Disclaimer: Free! Iwatobi Swim Club does not belong to me. It belongs to Hiroko Utsumi and Kyoto Animation, respectively.
A/N: This was inspired while I was lying in bed, listening to Zedd, so you can only imagine the emotional instability and the wavering feelings that shook me when I was struck by this muse. I guess I also have Makoto/Rin enthusiasts to blame for this burst of inspiration, because it's thanks to them I was ever introduced to the underground Makoto/Rin pairing. The moment I heard about those two together, I was immediately drawn to them — hook, line, and sinker! Their unrequited love, their silent words, their unanswered questions that linger between them, causing the tension to rise at even the slightest glimpse, it's all so painfully beautiful! I wanted to express it through this fanfic, you see. Hopefully I've accomplished that.
Enjoy, my beloved readers, and I hope you like it!
Again.
Pain gripped Rin's heart with an aching ferocity. Again, his phone had begun to vibrate in his pocket, an incessant, persistent buzzing. Again, the same thoughts came pouring into his head, thoughts that revolved around one person. Again, his heart lurched, hurtling against his chest. Glimpses of that warm smile, those earnest eyes that swarmed with buried emotions, swimming in misery, flickered before his eyes. Only one face matched. It was a face of sincerity, faithfulness, devotion, and it never failed to strike at Rin's heart, bashing the fragile thing until it shattered into tiny fragments.
Despite all of the distractions around him, Rin could only concentrate on that person, his thoughts running rampant as the roar of splashing water resounded from the Samezuka pool. As always, it was busy there, heating up with whistles and shouts of notable record times, bustling with this constant activity. Dedicated members of their prominent swim team were diving into the water, breaking the surface in the most practiced manner. Their movements were fluid but mechanical, skimming through the water in rehearsed strokes. Beads of liquid scattered at contact, spraying the pool deck and soaking the dry tiles. Again and again, meter after meter, vigilant measures were taken with the click of a stop watch, carefully observing every motion of those reaching arms and kicking legs.
"Make another lap! Another fifty meters should do it!"
"Swim faster! Come on!"
Lightheaded and faint, Rin wavered from the heavy air. Suddenly the dampness, the weight of humidity, the moist air surrounding him, felt thick with chlorine and heat, the devout swimmers buzzing with energy. Struggling to compose himself, Rin faltered towards the nearest bench. He sank onto it, feeling a familiar twinge of pain in his chest.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it, exhausted from the feeling of unease and agitation. The smoldering heat of the indoor pool wasn't helping. Drenched in sweat and the piercing scent of chlorine, it felt constricting, and it made Rin dizzier than ever, convinced that the team's obnoxious fuss only added to the severe temperatures. Excitement and suspense seemed to have gulped down whatever little tolerance they had left; the air was hefty with their barking. The rousing chatter soon became noise with the anticipation, too eager to feast their hungry eyes on record-beating numbers and report to their captain, Mikoshiba.
His heart racing, his head now felt heavier than his body. Compelled to fold his legs and curl into a ball, Rin fought against his nausea, disregarding his surroundings and noticing how everyone in the distance had blurred into distorted hazes. Feverish, he felt hot with impatience, perspiring at an alarming rate, his stomach churning. He only wanted this queasiness to leave him alone, but it remained stubborn, perhaps enough to make him want to return to his dorm room and collapse onto his bed. He was only there for provisional purposes anyway, to examine the recruits and test their proficiency, not for actual practice. After all, he followed his own schedule, despite Mikoshiba's angry protests.
Well, there was no doubt that the Samezuka captain would scold him for skipping his necessary duty as a regular, but at the moment, Rin couldn't care less. His thoughts weren't focused on the consequences, penalties, or even on swimming. This whole time his mind had been overflowing with the thought of one person and one person only, brimming with their fond memory, friendliness, teeming with reminiscence and longing to feel their warm embrace. His heart ached and yearned for them, for him — for Makoto.
Immediately his heart decided to thrash wildly, pounding against his ribcage and threatening to burst from his chest. He stirred and hoisted himself off of the bench, sauntering towards the exit almost too willingly, hoping not catch attention and escape in the secrecy of the shadows.
As he rambled in brisk steps, he could sense Makoto's presence taking root in his mind, shoveling out the other needless thoughts that didn't take precedence. Instead, all Rin could picture was that painful smile, raw with suppressed emotions, words that have been bottled up, locked away, unsaid, unexpressed. That worn smile, plastered on his genuine face, never spoke out of line unless it was for the better of everyone, never solely for himself. He was the embodiment of kindness and charisma, always putting others' needs before his own, always smiling when in agony, always caring and gentle. It was such hideous compassion, almost repulsive.
Not once, did Makoto ever act selfishly, and it infuriated Rin beyond imagination, because he knew that all he ever did was act selfishly in comparison. Makoto was his complete opposite, and perhaps because of that, Rin felt naturally drawn to him. Even the slightest glance, the very mention of his name, sent electrifying chills shooting down his spine, how his blood coursed rapidly through his pulsating veins, how his racing heart beat miles in minutes. Memories of Makoto's reassuring company would return, and Rin would feel as if he were gathered into his arms from the mere thought. It was calming, soothing, melting the walls of ice, sweetly coiling around his shoulders and tenderly kissing the coldness away.
However, it was bittersweet. Perhaps it was Rin's greed and selfishness that was to blame for his misfortune, but nevertheless Makoto was beyond his reach. Of course Rin knew he didn't deserve him and that he never would, but still he yearned for him, longing and aching and pining.
Why? Why couldn't he have him? It wasn't fair. Such an unattainable desire, it was brutal and merciless, like giving a small taste of paradise to someone who could never have it to themselves — a heavenly oasis, a blissful haven, a nirvana that Rin could never have the privilege of having or even touching. And it was devastating, simply heart-wrenching, knowing that.
Well, the truth of the matter was that this was the reality of things. Rin just had to accept his cruel fate, without question, without protest, obediently and compliantly, because it was impossible.
Because Haruka stood between them — or rather, Rin stood between them.
Rin acknowledged the fact that he was the nuisance, the one that didn't belong. He was the tedious obstacle, the third wheel, the odd man out, the sore thumb. He was the stubborn puzzle piece that didn't fit. It was disheartening, but it was inevitable. It was true.
Whether or not Haruka ever noticed or cared, those wishful gazes were directed at him, like they had always been ever since Rin had even met them. Makoto obviously felt strongly about Haruka, always showering him with affection while the horrible feeling of neglect kept Rin at bay. The desertion stung every time, but it never failed to come flooding back, and Rin was always swept away by the currents.
Lost at sea, Rin had nothing but pieces of thoughts of the hope that Makoto would even see him. He was only a stone's throw away from land, but thousands and thousands of miles away from reaching his hand. In spite of being perfectly dry, he would feel soaked. Rin would sink beneath it all, flooded by emotions and his bizarre attachment to Makoto. He would drown from his unrequited love, his one-sided feelings, and his pitiful heartbreak, submerged deep underwater. At first, he would flail and resist and thrash about hopelessly, but a single tide would become a surging torrent, and he would drown in its terrifying waves. Escape was futile and any struggling for naught, until Rin was drenched in his own sorrow, damp and heavy and miserable.
Heaving and gasping powerlessly, Rin finally entered his dorm and collapsed against the door, causing a loud thud to resonate in the room. He immediately sank to the floor, feeling his chest tighten and confine his withering heart. The buzzing of his phone continued, but again he disregarded it. Lonely and feeling abandoned at the selfish tragedy of his life, Rin realized he had never wanted to shrink away into oblivion so badly before.
Enough of this.
Every single time, even when Rin forcefully dismissed the thoughts that involved Makoto, it never worked. Every single time, he always ended up falling right back to him, drowning in him, wishing Makoto was a piece of him he didn't need.
Grief devoured his heart. Memories came rushing back, his agony bleeding with the remembrance. Rin could recall everything, how they crossed paths and often met eyes, how the stiffening tautness put a strain in the air between them, how his pounding heart stopped right in its tracks, how the tension spiked upward as quickly as they averted their eyes.
Once, when he was downtown, Rin caught a glimpse of Makoto with the other swimmers from Iwatobi, and it instantly cut him deep. Even the slightest glance from the corner of his eye captured his glowing face, sending his heart drumming away in his chest. However, his mood immediately turned sour at the sight of him beside Haruka, laughing with delight and constantly reaching out towards him. Hostile with envy, Rin's buried emotions resurfaced, clawing aggressively into his flesh, shredding and tearing his heart into a million pieces. This wasn't even the first time, and yet, it always felt like he found himself at the very peak of despair, at the brink of melancholy, every time it happened, and his heart would always lurch and lodge itself into his throat. Evidently it was difficult to breathe properly like that, exhausting and wearying his entire body.
Even now, the sheer memory gnawed at him, chewing out what remained of his broken heart. And with that, a sudden fatigue poisoned him, his whole body felt limp and lifeless.
Why?
Suddenly, an abrupt memory flickered across the back of his head. There it was — a picture, a mere glimpse of that apologetic glint in Makoto's eyes, innocent and genuine and regretfully sorry. Disoriented by that flashback, Rin jumped with a sharp intake of breath, shaking and blinking rapidly. Overwhelmed by the current state of affairs, his hectic emotions that could never be ignored or swept under a rug, Rin struggled to swallow his hindering thoughts and pick himself up. The vibrations of his phone were now fiercer than ever, but he paid it no attention.
It was all such a haunting memory, a lasting wound.
His trembling skin tingled with the sense of fatalism and his loser mentality, recognizing how pitiful and pathetic he actually was, being resigned to such misery and relying heavily on the comfort Makoto would have provided him, had he been there. Shuddering uncontrollably, Rin's limbs felt weak and numb. He could hardly feel his arms and legs, unable to lift himself and carry his own weight. In fact, he felt as if he was carved entirely out of stone, totally dead and unmoving. Everything was just ridiculously heavy with the unforgettable memories, the horrifying tension, and those sad eyes.
Rin could remember those beautiful green eyes clearly, pouring with hidden feelings and clouded with unease, concerned with troubles and plights that he would never dare to utter aloud. Whenever their eyes met, they mingled quietly, magenta hues blending with emerald green. And at once, the commotion and gluttonous activity around them would blur into stillness as Rin's heartstrings tugged towards him, towards Makoto. Despite how momentary a second was, he held a steady gaze, caught by a stunning pair of emeralds — vivid, alluring, and mesmerizing. In that fleeting instant, everything seemed to slow down, Rin's frenzied emotions swallowing him whole as their eyes locked with a secret longing.
This amorous gaze, however, never went full circle. The engagement was always brief, chaste and short-lived, secretly full of passion, exchanging silent words while everything remained unresolved, as though their throats hitched and they could only communicate through eye contact. But eye contact could never express their feelings accurately, regardless of how often it happened.
Coincidence or not, their fortuitous meetings were not rare. It wasn't strange to encounter one another in the streets and converse through their pained eyes. In fact, they often crossed paths, perhaps by pure chance, attempting to convey their unsaid feelings, to finally get across through their silent gazes. But it was never enough, and the vast distance between them always endured, always far and such a long way from each other. Neither of them ever crossed the boundaries, intimidated by the drawn lines, terrified to make the first move, refusing to make amends, until once again they parted ways without speaking to one another. It only spurred unanswered questions, which would reemerge and fester from the back of their heads, and they would return to their usual routines without as much as a greeting.
Little did they know that the same desire arose from the depths of their minds, anticipating and waiting but never initiating, so that nothing could ever come to pass. And yet, they yearned for the same wish, desperately hopeful and yet already accepting the worst case scenario. They never expected instant gratification for their wistful requests, and because of that, they always parted with more questions rather than answers, the tugging of their heartstrings more violent than the previous encounter, each wrenching jerk growing more and more aggressive with each fleeting glance.
But Makoto wouldn't dare to break that pattern of silence, he wouldn't dare argue. If it was to end this way, with the excruciating heartbreak of his one-sided love, he wouldn't fuss or protest. Not only was it out of his character, but Makoto already knew how to accept life's hardships. And in this particular case, it was his acceptance of his tragedy, fate's design, his unrequited love that would never be reciprocated. Regardless of the treacherous grief he would suffer for the rest of his life, despite the heavy burden of his lonesome misery, Makoto could tolerate it if it meant ensuring his happiness — Rin's happiness.
Rin deserved to be happy, even if it did cost Makoto his own happiness.
After all, before he had even realized it, Rin had grown to become a part of him. Makoto was bound to the broken youth, tied to his tormented grimaces, his heart throbbing furiously at the sight of Rin's mournful eyes. They were the most remarkable things — those raging scarlet eyes, beautifully crimson like flames that danced, set ablaze with crackling embers. Firmly planted in Makoto's head, it pestered him and raised countless questions. At every encounter, he saw those flaring red eyes, reigniting the moment they met his own. Makoto witnessed the rekindled fire in the pair of rubies, fueled by Rin's anguish, radiant and bursting red. Every single time, without fail, Makoto felt his tossing insides churn and his heart propel itself forward, while his lungs shriveled up and suppressed his bated breaths.
Beneath that hot-tempered gaze, however, Makoto could see the vulnerable side of Rin that cowered helplessly, frail and defenseless. Coated beneath a sheet of tearful sadness, all that could be read of those red eyes was that bitter hopelessness. Those pools of vermilion were glossy but despairing, illuminating their gorgeous cerise color. Ironically, that beauty only seemed to emphasize the sorrow hidden behind Rin's spitefulness, like a rose with thorns. When he pursed his lips, the coat of glazed varnish returned in his eyes, that same glassy look of loneliness and isolation.
Every single time, Makoto always saw the twinkling polish in those rubies. Every single time, it looked like Rin was about to cry, but he never did, or at least not while any witnesses could catch him in the act. Of course, as a result of his careful deliberation, Makoto wondered whether Rin ever did weep. Perhaps when he was hidden from society's discerning eye, he shed tears, tears that escaped the dams of his eyes, tears that collected too much weight to hold their place on his lengthy eyelashes, tears that slithered down his cheeks and left salty streaks in their paths.
Searching for an answer to his contemplative questions, Makoto often raised his head at their accidental meetings and beheld Rin in an attempt to meet his troubled eyes. His pensive gazes were never returned, though, because Rin would only avert his eyes and hide behind locks of his magenta hair. Oh, Makoto desperately wanted to unwind him, to provide appeasement, to unscrew the tightened bolts, to put Rin's discomfort at ease.
"Hey, Makoto, are you okay?" Haruka shot him a look of mild concern, his black hair strewn casually across his face.
"Huh?"
Suspicious of his friend's abnormal behavior, Haruka seemed skeptical of him, despite his expressionless face that was as unreadable as always, bordered by sleek strands of hair. Above them, the afternoon sun was spilling out, rays of bright oranges pouring in from behind the clouds and blanketing them in warmth. With a few blinks, Makoto suddenly realized where he was, recognizing the familiar setting and their well-known commotion, remembering the occasion.
Oh, that's right. Today was the day to commemorate the completion of their new swimming pool, to celebrate their team's debut, and to take memorable photographs for Gou's album scrapbook. Lost in his thoughts, Makoto had completely forgotten.
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." Like an instinctive reflex, he flashed Haruka a reassuring smile. "I just spaced out for a second, that's all."
At first, Haruka didn't seem convinced, hesitating sternly before shrugging it off. Once he dropped the subject, he seemed to have considered it ancient history, nonchalantly stating his need for the restroom and disappearing inside the school building.
Gathered around their humble pool and sitting perched on the recently cleaned tiles, Makoto watched the amusing festivity unfold while his bare feet dangled in the water. Naturally, Nagisa was causing his usual mischief, chasing Rei around the pool while Gou giggled from the side, her digital camera in hand. For the most part Nagisa was to blame for the childish ruckus, considering how he was responsible for triggering Rei's outcries, their random outbursts overpowering the sound of shuttering camera lenses. Well, it seemed like their liveliness gulped whatever little patience they had, unable to contain their keen eagerness, too excited about their accomplishments and their qualification to enter the upcoming swim meets.
"Rei-chan, don't run away!"
"I-I'm not running! Stay away!" As long as Nagisa's pursuit continued, so did Rei's flustered reactions, but nevertheless their everyday revelry was as entertaining as always. Their bright eyes glimmered with joy and their laughter rang in Makoto's ears, but for some reason he felt unsettled, as though something was missing.
Usually their upbeat chatter rubbed off on him, and he would ultimately join in on the fray, but this hollow feeling, this emptiness, was too unnerving to ignore.
Mindlessly, he pulled a clammy hand out of his pocket, finding his cellphone in its tight grip. All of a sudden, an agonizing pain pressed at his chest, restricting any available room for his heart to punch and hammer against. Flipping it open gingerly, Makoto remembered the calls and text messages he had sent on a total whim, from only moments ago. In fact, he'd even sent a recorded voicemail in his daze. In that instant, the vivid memory of his impulsive actions struck him, and he felt as though his organs were being crushed, his thin breaths stifled. Recalling his carelessness and rash mindset at the time, Makoto could feel his mind fleeing from his control as it dwelled on those humiliating messages. Faint and dizzy, his head was sent spinning with his debatable thoughts.
One hour ago. Thirty minutes ago. Twenty seconds ago — hey, Rin, we finally finished the swimming pool! We're really proud of it. We can finally compete now that we meet the requirements! We're having a small party, you should come!
Failing to regain his composure, Makoto drifted in a void of perpetual stupor and shame. How stupid, how foolish of him! What extreme desperation could have convinced him to forget all common sense, that any of those pathetic messages were a good idea? Staring madly at his phone and scrolling through the startling number of unanswered calls, it looked as though he had been controlled by his infatuation.
Well, regardless, that solemn Matsuoka would never pay any heed to his pitiful attempts to contact him. Rin was a lone wolf, after all. He was detached, independent, caring only about what truly mattered to him.
Haruka, for instance, was probably on that list. He was probably highlighted, too, written favorably at the top and ranked with the foremost priority.
As the jolly commotion of his friends fizzled into indistinct noise, Makoto felt his wilting heart crumble and shatter into pieces. Love was cruel, blunt and brutally honest, tormenting Makoto as though it were a leisurely pastime. It told him the cold, hard truth with a slap in the face: it was impossible. Right from the start, Makoto was doomed to the fate of an unrequited love. He could never declare his adoration for Rin. Regardless of how strong and prominent his love was, it was tragically one-sided and hopeless. Rin could never possibly return his amorous feelings. That distant Matsuoka felt no significant attraction towards him, but instead Haruka, who was such an important rival as to always occupy his time.
Engulfed by a feeling of crushing defeat, Makoto sank and slumped in devastation. This rejection, it felt like the end of the world, as though the sun ceased to blaze and his existence was pointless, as though the ground underneath him suddenly cracked open and swallowed him whole, as though Makoto was destined to have an unhappy ending, a tragic plunge into the abyss.
There was not the slightest possibility of attaining something more in their relationship. It was only a dream that love would ever burrow in their hearts and sprout into a beautiful romance between them. That fantasy of a budding relationship, it only led to a dead end, and Makoto knew that, his wishful thinking perishing and his mood spoiling with the rottenness of misery. Drenched in cold sweat, Makoto felt soaked in his woes, whatever positivity left in him draining and bleeding in grief. Even now his worn smiles were strained, and he always felt pathetic and wretched, especially for resorting to such lies and feigning his contentment.
Sorrow preyed on Makoto's heart, mauling and strangling it from the clutch of its talons. The memory of Rin's venomous expression, full of spite that concealed so much anguish, hurt him deep. Framed by fair magenta hair, the rosiness of Rin's cheeks always burned aflame with discontent, the furious blush of dissatisfaction spreading across his face, and every time Makoto noticed, he knew he could only deliver his sympathies through his tolerant eyes. He knew he could never please Rin, never bring a smile upon his face, and certainly never have him to himself.
That was why, instead of bottling up this incredible amount of emotion, Makoto translated his one-sided love into a platonic affection for his friends. Instead of concentrating his passions exclusively on Rin, he shared them with everyone. After all, he believed he was chasing relentlessly after Rin, but in vain. Again and again, Makoto sought after him, struggling to muster up the courage to finally speak to him, battling his inner-conflict, striving, endeavoring, making valiant efforts, but it was all a lost cause. No matter how quickly, urgently, and frantically Makoto raced, the stretch was always too far. He could never reach Rin, who was always too far away, always withdrawing from his touch, always pushing Makoto away when he got too close. Even if that brooding Rin was sitting beside him at that moment, even if that resentful Rin had his feet swaying in the water beside his own, it made no difference. Rin was impossible to catch. He was a mere glimmer in Makoto's eyes, fleeting and ephemeral, like a ghost, like a reflection in the water, elusive, illusory, untouchable.
Rin was beyond his reach.
The End
Side Notes:
- Ahhhh! I almost cried while writing this! Unrequited loves are such tragedies, it hurts!
- Another Free! Iwatobi Swim Club fanfic from me, of all people! This is crazy, what am I doing, someone knock some sense into me.
- This fanfic ended up taking much longer than I would've liked. This fanfic also ended up much longer than I would've liked. How come I can never accomplish anything according to my own wishes? This is really frustrating. Sorry, guys.
- Reviews? I would love to hear your opinions! I have no intention to request too much of you, my beloved readers, but allow me to overcome my mistakes with constructive criticism, supporting me with your words of advice.
- Not much dialogue, but it couldn't be helped! I know my writing style is boring and verbose, which will repel a good number of readers, but whoever actually had the patience to read it, thank you! I really appreciate it. Thanks to you, my toiling and slaving over the work's creation had not been in vain!
- For some reason, I kind of like the idea that Makoto and Rin like each other, but are convinced that the other likes Haruka. It's like a love triangle, but not really. Real sad, isn't it?
- I almost titled this "Roses & Thorns" or "Porcelain" but I settled on "Beyond Reach" — would either of the other two have been a better choice? I always doubt my decisions when it comes to titles.
- Any questions, comments, or concerns? Drop a quick review! I might not respond to you personally, but know that I read each and every one! I take everyone's opinions into dearest consideration! In fact, your support helps inspire me! I run on your thoughts, everyone — your words are the water that quenches my thirsty motivation.