Makoto loved him more than anything else in the world.
The gentle rising and falling of his quivering chest, the beautiful glint in those cerulean eyes, the scent wafting from him in waves of chlorine and musky deoderant. He loved his pale, muscular figure. Perfectly postured, yet still with a slight slouch of his shoulders to give off just the perfect dismissive air.
He'd loved him most, though, when he'd stood up to Rin after the regionals. Of course, his heart went out to the maddened man, still but a boy inside. He understood perfectly how he must be feeling; the stress of expectations and deciding their futures quite so soon was enough to bring anyone to tears. But the pure rush of intensity in his choked voice, the fire that ignited inside his irises when he gazed at Rin with a furiosity Makoto doubted anyone had ever seen before,made his voice catch in his throat and his heart thump so hard it hurt. This sort of love was infectious; everything Haru did made him weaker for him, even deeper in this shit.
But, of course it would never happen. The gentle man had tried everything he could to reassure himself. Haru was in love with the water, and felt apathy for everyone else, he told himself. The two of them were too close- it would feel weird, of course it would, he insisted. Haru didn't feel love. He was probably straight anyway.
His thoughts were a tangled, hypocritical mess, so plagued by the sickness people dared to call "love," and the agony it supplied. He didn't want to feel this way; fuck, he never asked for this. Some nights he'd think he was getting over it, but one stupid word from his best friend's mouth, one little curious glance was enough to send him plummeting again. He repeated his reassurances over and over, like a numb chant in his whirring mind. None of them seemed to be helping.
Every single time, it would be Rin, if anyone. Sure, Haru had opened up to his teammates recently, and the rare, tiny smiles Makoto would catch were like shooting stars, glimmering and precious. He was so beautiful when he smiled. And yes, they were close, and Makoto understood him well but Haru had never displayed enough emotion to prove that he even cared. Makoto couldn't live in a relationship like that, he told himself. Emotion, affection, love- they were all things he thought a stable romance needed. But somehow, right now, the mahogany haired apathetic was more than enough for him. He doubted he'd ever tire of Haruka Nanase.
Rin was the only one Haru could ever love. Always, always, it was those two; competing, bonding, sharing stories and connecting on such a deep level that Makoto could never reach, no matter how far down he swam. Rin was the most important person in Haru's life, and he knew that. Understood.
But, he chuckled bitterly, rolling onto his back, it was still the worse ache he'd ever felt.