Lost at Sea: Makoto x Ocean Spirit

This takes place at the start of Episode 6, when Makoto is swimming out to save Rei from drowning:

The ocean is a vast, lonely place. Many people want to swim in it, but no one wants to stay there forever.

The olive haired boy could feel the water rushing into his lungs, dragging him down into the depths of the darkness below. 'This is the end', he thought. Just a moment ago, his friend was out there screaming for help, and he was so close to reaching him. Was this the end for both of them? He shut his eyes, with the fear of the unknown lurking inside of him. With one final breath, he thought to himself: I guess this is it...

Time had passed. He couldn't tell how long. But now, he could open his eyes, and breathe. Everything was so dark and blurry around him. Where was he? As his vision became clearer, he saw straight through into a murky, blue depth. He was still in the ocean. And yet he couldn't feel the strong tides of water pushing and pulling at him- he was floating freely, as if he was in the air, and breathing as if he was on land.

Then it began to hit him. The empty water world, trapping him and relinquishing him of his senses- his mind began to race in total trepidation, dreading the confines of the ocean! But just as he started to panic, he heard a voice come up from behind him.

"So you're probably wondering where you are, huh?"

With his heart racing, he turned around and saw a slender person floating a few feet away from him. His entire body was clear, yet he was glowing. He was built like a swimmer, with a sharp angular face, and eyes that looked so familiar. And even though he was no one like he'd ever seen before, the boy began to calm down. He thought he was alone. But there was someone beside him at last- someone to talk to, and to ease his fears.

"Where am I?" It was the first thing that he needed to know.

The ghostly figure sighed, as if he was about to say something he'd said millions of times before. "What do you remember just before now? You were swimming, right? A giant wave crashed into you, and since I like to be quick with my words, let's just say you started to drown. That's why you're here with me in this underwater bridge between Earth and the Afterlife. A spirit world."

"I- I'm drowning?"

"Yeah. Doesn't feel that way, right? Don't worry- you're not dead yet. Just unconscious."

The olive haired swimmer was in complete disbelief. Noticing this shock, the figure spoke again, "I know, it's a total shocker. By the way, I'm an ocean spirit. Whenever people are nearing the end of their life in the ocean, I can choose to greet them in their passing. If I want to. I don't visit everyone, so don't be surprised if you haven't seen me when you were drowning in the sea before. People usually aren't too pleased to see me, and I pretty much know why. If you want to talk about anything, you can just call me Kawako. Got any questions?"

At first, the boy didn't know what to say. "I'm Makoto... I'm a swimmer at Iwatobi High. I'm-" Suddenly, he began to remember what was going on just before. "My friend- a guy who was really close by to me. How's he doing? Is he drowning too?"

"He's being saved by someone else. Should be fine. I can see what's happening outside in the earthly realm." After hearing those words, Makoto began to relax.

It was so much to take in, yet it also didn't feel like a dream at all. Makoto felt so peaceful and at ease that the strangeness of the situation didn't matter to him. Yes, he was drowning, but it didn't feel that way personally; all he could feel was the tranquility of the ocean. Although his blood was still rushing at the sight of the tremendously dark ocean, his nerves clinging onto dear life and trying not to peer into the great unknown, for the very first time in his life, he felt a warm, familiar connection with the sea. The ocean spirit floating before him was something he wasn't afraid of- he talked like a person, thought like a person, and had a face he could look into and understand. Even though there was a total darkness encasing both of them, at least there was someone he could talk to. He just had to accept what the spirit was telling him and roll with it; there was nothing else he could do.

It felt as if a few minutes passed by. Slightly worried now, Makoto sheepishly asked the Ocean spirit, "So how long has it been? I know... I can't live that long underwater. Am I even still alive?"

"Good question. Time doesn't pass here in the spirit world the same way it does in the real world. It's much, much slower. So don't worry about it."

"But... if you can see the real world, you'd know how long it's been. I know I can hold my breath for seven minutes. Can you just tell me how long it's been?"

Kawako was silent, looking away from Makoto. When he glanced at him again, he said, "You landdwellers are always looking to get back into the land. Out of the water. It's really annoying."

Makoto was taken back. "But you know we can't live that long underwater!"

"As I said, you're always rushing from place to place! You think I can do anything about your drowning body? Why don't you just relax. You know, if you live, you live. If you don't, you got this moment to take a few breaths, right? Tch."

Makoto was getting annoyed at the spirit. 'What a horrible attitude! Doesn't he care about people at all?!' he thought. But deep down inside, amidst the serenity of the ocean, he felt like Kawako was right. He didn't know what Kawako could actually do about his body in the real world. Even though Makoto was deathly afraid of the ocean, he realized that right now, it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

With nothing but a monotonous sea around him, Makoto wanted to get a better look at Kawako. He stared into his eyes. They were mysteriously blue, carrying a sad yet solemn look. What had Kawako been through? Why was he so cynical? Then Makoto realized why the spirit looked so familiar- his eyes looked just like Haru's.

"You know, you look like a friend I have. His name's Haru, and he's a swimmer who loves the water too."

"Someone who 'loves' the water? Color me surprised."

"No, you don't understand. He really does love the water!" Makoto felt a warmness began to appear inside of him as he remembered his best friend. "He'd live in the water, if he can. There was one time when I tried to pull him away from jumping into a fish tank. I always find him at home in his bath tub. He's like a dolphin!"

Kawako stayed silent, but it was apparent now that he was listening, more amused than he was when he first met the olive haired swimmer.

"He's- he's actually a lot like you," Makoto excitedly rambled on, "He doesn't say a lot of words. He doesn't need to. You just know what he means when he's there. Well, you guys aren't exactly the same. You're a lot more sarcastic and biting than he is..."

"Tell me something I don't know. Actually, why not- I'm bored. Tell me more about this Haru guy you're friends with. He doesn't sound like a bad guy at all."

Makoto had forgotten that he was still in the ocean. When he began to recollect his memory, he remembered, "Well, Haru and I came here with the rest of our friends. There are four of us- we're a swim team at a high school. One of the guys who was with me in the ocean, his name is Rei." Makoto paused for a moment, and something suddenly came to him. "Hey, you said Rei was being saved by someone, right? There wasn't really anyone near the shore except for the four of us... I can bet that person is Haru!"

"Maybe it is."

"So... if Haru's there, that means he must have spotted me. Am I being saved by Haru?" Kawako didn't answer. "Hey, can you answer me more often? Am I being saved by someone? This is my life we're talking about here!" Makoto pleaded to the spirit desperately.

"There you go again with that worried look. You know, I come across a lot of swimmers and sailors. And compared to most of them, you're really touchy. IF you are being saved by someone, you're gonna wake up eventually. So what's the point of even asking?"

"Because it's not just about living or dying. People have to feel safe to feel at peace. And that's why I have to know if my friend is out there saving me- because whenever he's nearby, I feel safe!"

The brightened look on Kawako's face quickly disappeared. His eyes became dead again, his expression solemn and emotionless. "You're really not worth my time." Kawako's figure began to dim- and it looked as if he was swimming away. Makoto was incredibly anxious now. Was Kawako going to leave him alone in the ocean again? After giving him a glimpse of hope, showing him, for the first time, that the sea wasn't so bad after all, that there existed something in it so human, so close to him- was he never going to see him again? The light around the spirit was fading, and the shadows in the ocean were falling towards Makoto. He started to fear the dark waters again, and just then, he remembered something he didn't want to think about.

He yelled, "But wait! I have to ask you something. It's about someone I really cared about. He drowned in the ocean when I was very young." Kawako stopped. The light was coming back again. Makoto breathed a sigh of relief, and continued, "I want to know what he was like, just before he passed away. He was a fisherman with a mermaid tattoo on his right shin, covering a deep scar from long ago. If anyone saw it, they couldn't forget. Please, do you remember meeting him?"

Kawako's eyes widened.

"It's- it's you."

"Me?" Makoto was troubled, shocked by the sudden change in atmosphere. "What do you mean?"

"You're the same boy... that fisherman talked about. His name was Takao."

"So you do remember him! I've missed him for so long. I waited for him so long to come back from the sea. Please, tell me what he said!"

Kawako came closer to Makoto, his light shining brighter and brighter until Makoto could see the full luminescence of his eyes. Their lenses met, both staring at one another so intimately, as if there was a connection between them they'd always felt, yet never known about. And once they locked together, Makoto was sure- totally sure now that he knew where that connection came from. The spirit not only shared the same look as Haru, but he shared his very soul; the rhythm his heart beat to and lived for was the same as Haru's. As the two swam closer to one another, drawn in by this connection, Makoto recognized the yearning of freedom that Haru craved. But there was something off. What kind of freedom though? A different kind of freedom? What was it exactly? What was the ocean spirit hiding from him?

And suddenly, the Kawako pulled Makoto into him, grabbing him by his wrist and yelling:

"Why do you care about that fisherman anyways? Did you know what kind of person he really he was? He was one hell of an abusive alcoholic. Do you even know why he talked to you? It's because everyone who mattered around him left- his wife, his son, his friends- everyone except a stupid kid who couldn't tell apart a nice guy from a completely useless bum! If you stayed around him any longer, he'd probably have drowned you himself!"

Makoto stared blankly into the distance.

"That 'nice' fisherman you adored so much never cared about you. I heard it all from his own mouth." Kawako's eyes had turned from a gravely blue to a fearsome, dancing flame. "Just as he was about to die, he told his entire sob story, how he pushed everyone away from him, and how he hated this world so much he couldn't wait to leave it. He certainly didn't want to return to the land just to see some punk kid!"

Makoto was silent.

"It's true, right? Even you can't deny it."

"I... I can't agree with you. I don't believe anything you're saying. He was my friend."

"Ugh, it's the same with all you people! But you're definitely one of the worst. How can you cling onto someone even after hearing all that? I honestly should've left you here before, left you to-" The spirit stopped and choked something back, unable to say it.

"What are you trying to say? What is even your problem?!" Makoto finally burst out, a flurry of emotions colliding inside of him.

Kawako glanced away, unable to look Makoto in the face. "The thing about us spirits is, we can feel how strongly someone's spirit is holding onto their body. So I do know when you're gonna die. You don't have much time left."

The swimmer had finally had enough- it was all too much for him to handle. He buried his olive hair inside his fingers, wanting to scream, but at the same time, knowing that from this entire experience, there was nothing he could do. He had to accept what was coming, but he wasn't ready.

After what appeared to be an eternity, Kawako spoke again, but softly, "I was gonna say, it's pathetic how someone like you can die, thinking that someone you thought cared about you still does, even though the truth is, they don't. But there's something else I didn't say."

"What could you possibly say now?"

"Someone saved you too."

Makoto gasped, as if about to say something, but his head dropped down again. "What the use? You said I'm about to die, right? You were telling me to not worry, to live in the moment, and now you're telling me all of this? I don't know what you're trying to do!" He thought back to the real world, imagining Haru swimming back to land, holding onto him, believing so hard that he could still have a chance of being alive, braving the storms just for the hope that he could see his friend again. And then, Makoto couldn't breathe anymore. The water pushed against his ribs, the serene air burst out of its utopia into a jagged torrid turbulence that was swallowing the swimmer whole. Kawako wasn't bluffing. It really was happening. All he could think of was seeing his friends on the shore just one last time. Just one last time...

As Makoto lost himself in his wild thoughts and depression, he sensed something overcoming him, but just ever so slightly. He felt a cool sensation touch upon his chest, making its way down through his ribs, and suddenly, pulsating into his lungs. He never felt anything like it before. He was feeling airy, incredibly light-headed, yet he still couldn't breathe. What was happening? A hand moved across his neck, onto his cheeks and to his lips. At last, he opened his eyes. The ocean spirit had leaned in and touched his own lips against Makoto's.

"Just relax," Kawako whispered. In a moment's glance, the pressure in Makoto's lungs rushed out and fresh air was rushing in. And yet he still couldn't breathe. The cool air thrust itself into his chest again, and his eyes squeezed shut as even more water rushed out of his lungs and escaped into the free, open ocean. And, after the shock had rippled through, and Makoto had relaxed into the moment, the olive haired swimmer could breathe again. He looked down at the clear blue hand on his chest. He saw it strike his aortic arch and, with a thrust, push him backwards.

The two bodies separated, floating into the unrestrained sea. Kawako was staring downwards. He was still glowing. Yet something about him was not as bright anymore. Makoto could not say anything; he was still trying to breathe again, still trying to understand what was happening.

And the sea spirit broke the silence. "I know who saved you now. It's your friend, Haru. Don't ask me how I know who he is. Just know that he's right there next to you. And you're not in the ocean anymore. You're on land." But right after finishing his sentence, Kawako began coughing, and his left hand reached for his neck, with his right hand desperately wrapping around his chest.

"Hey- hey!" Makoto yelled out in concern, "What did you do to yourself?!"

"Just get back to land. I'm not dead, you know." The spirit turned around and began swimming into the distance. He continued, "I'm going back to the ocean."

"How can I see you again?" There was no response. "Do you only appear to people when they're drowning?" At that moment, Kawako stopped and turned around to face the olive haired boy. He muttered, "No. You gotta find out the rest by yourself."

Suddenly, the entire spirit world was being caught up in a vortex- the blue and black colors swirled into a majestic whirlpool and ran out towards a dead center, the roars of the ocean emerging triumphantly as visibly as the day, knowing its time had come to close the curtain. Everything had shut down, and as the world collapsed around him, gigantic tidal waves hurled themselves towards Makoto, and all became dark.

/

Makoto awoke to the sight of the starry sky- peaceful, if he hadn't jolted himself out of his unconsciousness back into the real world. He began coughing violently and sporadically, but all worry and anxiety had left his body. He was, after all, alive.

"Makoto! Makoto!"

As he regained more of his earthly senses, a shy blissfulness found its way into Makoto's smile. He didn't need to look up to see who it was. He just knew. And although he was still recovering from such a strange experience, all he cared about was being back with his best friend. Rain poured down from the sky. It was so calm.

"Ha- Haruka..."

Yet somewhere in his mind, questions still lingered. Was it all just a dream? It felt so real. But most urgently, he had to know: Why did the water spirit save him?

/

The incident seemed so long ago. High school was over; a year in college had already passed. And the entire time, he couldn't get Kawako's words out of his mind. Even if he had just imagined it all, what he heard struck him so strongly, in a way that was unquestionably real. What kind of person was the fisherman really like? Makoto closed his eyes, trying to remember back long ago. 'It can't be, it can't be,' he thought. He tried to get the thoughts out of his head, but it was no use. What if Kawako was right?

There would be times when he'd try to talk to Takao, to get him to stop the kids in the harbor from bullying him. Most of the time, Takao would grow a stern look on his face, head over to the harbor, and the kids would take off running. He was a strong man- old and short, but built from decades of sailing. Makoto smiled through his memories. Yet some times, Takao wouldn't even bat an eye at him. He would sit at the edge of the docks, looking out into the open sea, his face angry and radiating a fearsome presence. He would be drinking something too. And sometimes, he would smash things to the ground and yell at people.

'It can't be, it can't be', he thought. He couldn't remember a time when Takao threatened to beat him. Did the fisherman never hit him even once- or was there something he dared not remember, something drowned out by years of repression?

Sometimes he had trouble sleeping, or trouble studying, or he would just go and sit by the harbor at night just to think. He couldn't say anything to anyone- after all, who would believe him? And hardly anyone knew anything about Takao- as the spirit had claimed, he had few friends, and those he had were either dead or silent about his past.

"You gotta find that out for yourself."

The sun was setting in the distance, and Makoto approached the shore. He had lost count how many times, since the incident, he had tried swimming in the ocean by himself, searching for something that probably wasn't even real. He needed to see Kawako again- as much as he disliked the sarcastic sprite, he could not get over the questions lingering in his head. Why did the spirit save him?

The sun beat down hard on the swimmer's back, the waves crashing next to him as his only company. When he was tired of swimming freestyle, he switched over to backstroke. Surely this would work? But as he had expected, nothing happened. He saw the clouds floating above him, whimsically unaware of anything he was thinking about. Alone in the whole ocean, he began to think, over and over again. Couldn't the spirit appear anytime to him? Did he just not want to see him again? What did he even do wrong to make Kawako angry at him in the first place? Frustrated and confused, Makoto stopped swimming and began to wade in the water. It was getting dark, and he had no choice but to head back home. Even though he found nothing today, he knew tomorrow was something he was looking forward to. He would, after spending a year away from him at college, finally see Haru again.

/

"Hey, you there with the big back muscles. Get over here and help me with these crates!"

Makoto brushed off the sweat pouring down his forehead as he scrambled over to save the crates from falling on the group of angry fishermen. Being a fisherman was not an easy job. But if he and Haru were to make a good amount of cash over the summer, they had to suck it up and be prepared for whatever awaited them out in the open sea.

[End of Part 1]