Disclaimer: ...Yep.
I have no regrets.
It all started when she realized she was staring at the sculpted meat of his palms; a mere glance out of the corner of her eye as he would jot down notes on a clipboard before practice. Soon, the glances would turn into gazes, and her eyes would rise to follow the movements of his muscular forearms. When his forearms would tense, they boasted every blood vessel that crawled towards his elbows. And so, her eyes crawled further up. The longer and more often she looked, the tighter his sleeves seemed to become on his upper arms, until his biceps all but burst the seams. By the time she startled into recognition that she was staring at him, it was all for naught.
She couldn't seem to stop. She found herself stealing glances at him in the halls during school. She noticed the way his broad, round shoulders rolled and flexed when he shrugged or laughed, and how the veins would strain across his neck when he got exasperated. And she was mesmerized.
The worst part about it was, this was all before the points in which his shirt came off and the swimsuit went on. After that, her eyes would shamelessly keep darting down at his swimsuit, taking in his thick calves and taut hamstrings. And when he would take off his shirt, she should have known to throw in the towel right then and there. Just watching the flexing of his trapezoids and his dorsal from behind hypnotized her into a vegetable. And when he'd turn around and nearly bump into her with his perfect deltoids, her breath would hitch in her throat. Then he would turn to face her and give her a smile, but she was much too busy unsuccessfully reprimanding her eyeballs not to roam over his pectorals and rippling abdominals.
Strike that, the sins her eyes committed when his shirt came off was the second worst part. The absolute worst part was the moment he caught her red-handed.
Well, it wasn't exactly the first time he had caught her. It was no secret how much she was attracted to a sculpted muscular male figure. No secret at all. So, it almost went without saying that her worshipful doe eyes would linger on the tallest and most muscular member of the team. And linger they did. In the hall, before, during and after practice, along with pretty much any other time he happened to be in any perceivable line of sight. In fact, it was a nonverbal shock to, well, everyone, that it had taken this long for her to start actively staring at him like that. No matter how much clothing he wore, she could easily envision the chiseled form underneath.
It was foolish of her to think he wouldn't notice. Occasionally, he would turn to her while they stood beside the pool, right when she was staring at him. He would start to say something swimming-related until he saw her looking at him. Then he would stop and she would snap out of her daze long enough to tell him to continue. He would shake his head and smile at her, then never say a word about it again.
Other times, they would be discussing something for the club before or after practice and she would catch herself watching him. He would simply look at her and give a sweet, gentle smile, and nothing more. He never said a word about it. Not once. He would just pick up whatever topic they had left off on and continue without even a mention of her strange behavior. She felt as though he had to have seen her by now, but she couldn't seem to behave herself. He was masculinity incarnate. Now she wondered…why did this gradual addiction feel so sudden?
Strangely enough, before, she never really noticed his sighs or small protests about her frequent ogling of the other members, nor did she realize that she hadn't really paid as much attention to the most physically masculine specimen in her vicinity. But why? Why was that? When she was so infatuated with a man's physical strength, why had it taken her so long to see him? What else could she have been doing before, whenever she was with Makoto Tachibana?
Before she could find an answer to that mind-bungler, she had come nose-to-nose with the walking sculpture in question. Well, more like nose-to-massive pectorals, as her head barely reached his shoulders, but such is not one of those details that lingers in anyone's mind as being a crucial one. She had been taking some notes at a small patio table and had quickly risen to go time a lap for Nagisa…at the same time that Makoto was walking towards the table after a few laps to retrieve his bottle of water. The quick, unexpected movement had caused her to bring her arms up defensively on instinct, and her hands brushed against his abs on accident.
Makoto, being Makoto, quickly made to apologize, but Kou Matsuoka's mind had packed up and high-tailed it to Australia the very moment her fingertips touched his wet skin. Her eyes glazed over, and her hands drifted agonizingly slowly back to the position of being able to touch him. Even though he could have easily pulled away at any time, he just stood there, watching her.
She saw the intake of his breath and the tensing of his muscles as easily as she felt them when her fingertips whispered against his abs. She heard him open his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out, as if he couldn't even decide what it was he wanted to say. At the time, the only thing left in the vacant apartment of her cranium was how his skin felt on her fingers.
He was so strong. He was a physical force to be reckoned with, and she found it attractive. She found it very attractive. Her hands leaned into his torso more intentionally when he did nothing to draw away. She could feel the heat of his body when her palms pressed against him, and the outside world dulled. Her fingers roamed over the hills of his abdominals, relishing the sensation of his skin gliding over his muscles with the tug of her touch. Her hands trailed up his form, and she subconsciously noticed he was holding his breath. When her nails grazed his ribs, a harsh quiver shot through his muscles, and she vaguely acknowledged the sound of him biting his tongue against a hiss.
His sound of restraint jolted her from the mere moment of her utter lack of it. Her eyes shot up to look at his face, and he did the same thing he had always done. He smiled at her. That sweet grin that accompanied a slight tilt of his head.
It made her feel sick to her stomach.
Her hands jerked back to curl at her chest, stunned by the strange churning in her belly. She gave his muscular body another proverbial once-over and only succeeded in making her feel nauseous. What was wrong with her so suddenly?
The hands that were massive enough to lift her from the ground by her neck with one hand, yet he used them for the gentlest of actions, like the stroking of kittens and the playing with children, both of which she had caught him doing before. The arms that could easily crush her bones with a mere hug, yet he used them to carry boxes and supplies for those who couldn't handle the weight; a notion he had done for her multiple times. By the time she found his eyes again, he tilted his head and his eyebrows suddenly furrowed into a worried expression.
His soft inquiry of "Gou-chan, are you alright? You don't look very happy…" shook her system.
And that made her feel even more uncomfortable! Every time he called her "Gou", why did she never have the heart to correct him? It was because he was too kin-
It hit her. It slammed into her like a sledgehammer to her skull. All this time, she had been goggling at this gentle, compassionate man as if he were a piece of meat! He had ceased to have an identity to her as a human being and became a faceless form of something she enjoyed to watch. He was no longer Makoto. No longer was the man whose kindness surpassed any self-interest. No longer was the man who would always encourage but take no credit. No longer was the man whose down-to-earth nature never clashed with his compassion. In her mind, he had been reduced to a foreign marble statue with flesh and no head. She had gone so far as to not even recognize him as a person much less a man.
It was this moment that Nagisa hollered impatiently for her to come over. The details of what he said were more of those unimportant details, the only thing that truly mattered was that the exclamation grabbed her and catapulted her all the way back to universe dubbed "reality". Makoto still stood in front of her, and she was standing there like a gaping mook before him. The revelations of the rather embarrassing moment that had just taken place coupled with the realization of how she had subconsciously treated him horrified her. She frantically sifted through her options, then took a deep breath so she could attempt to think straight.
There were some times when a girl had to buckle down and be a strong, independent woman, and this… was one of those times. So, using Nagisa's insistent shout to her advantage, she employed the ancient and sacred art of…Avoid. All. Contact.
Nagisa was only the first domino. Dumbly hurrying past Makoto to take a spot next to the pool and time him was only the beginning. The rest of the day, she allowed herself no eye contact. She managed to get out of hanging with the boys after practice, using a semi-applicable excuse, but the lifting of one eyebrow easily suggested that Haruka didn't truly believe she was going to clean her brother's dorm room. Nagisa wasn't paying attention, Rei wouldn't know, and she wasn't about to wait for Makoto to figure it out.
He spotted her in the hall the next day before she had time to act as if she hadn't seen him. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, the big oaf simply smiled and waved. So she decided to be a mature adult and…avert her eyes and speedwalk in the other direction…
The next few days were fraught with him waving good morning and her running away like a cowardly guppy. And with each passing day she grew more aware of the occasional gawk or remark about the guys' physiques, made by the gossiping gabs who so mournfully shared her gender, and her gut wrenched inside. She knew very well what the girls were saying about her friends. She had said the very same things. She had gaped at their bodies like rotisserie chickens on a spit the same way that the other girls had. Nagisa enjoyed it, Rei was oblivious, Haru couldn't care less, but Makoto…he just smiled. Every time, no matter how she or anyone else had objectified him, that moron always just frigging smiled!
She thought practices would be awkward, but Makoto never came up and talked to her. He never pushed or prodded, but every time he would turn and give a reassuring smile before he dove into the pool. That hoggle-flogging smile! And she would always turn away.
That is, until one specific day at practice, when he decided to say something to her before he joined the others in the pool. This is the point where spoken interaction becomes one of those crucial details previously mentioned.
"Don't be so down, Gou-chan, it's a beautiful day!"
That. Smile. Again.
She couldn't take it anymore. All she did nowadays was avoid him to spare him the dehumanization she had forced upon him, treating him just as rudely now as she had done before and the idiot could do nothing but be kind to her! She couldn't take it anymore!
"What's your problem?!" her voice came out in a frustrated yelp. Makoto could do nothing but blink at her, as her outburst attracted the attention of every member of the swim club simultaneously. She breathed heavily and they stood in silence until the other members' heads popped back underwater to continue practice and leave the angry woman to their teammate.
Makoto's voice grew quieter, "I'm sorry?"
She sighed and put her head in her hands, her voice lowering, "I know you see it, Makoto-senpai…the way people look at you. I know you hear the way people talk about you. Doesn't that bother you at all?"
Bringing her arms up to shield her face from him, she growled, "They make judgments and fawn over how you look without even knowing who you are! They don't even know you…what kind of person you are…"
She paused, and he didn't answer, so she prodded, "How can you keep smiling like that when people are so insensitive to you?"
He released a very soft sigh, "Look at me, Gou-chan."
Finally, she forced herself to look him in the face. His deep emerald eyes were gentle as always, and serious. And he smiled…again.
"It's because I don't really care about that kind of thing. It's far more important to me that my friends are happy rather than trying to correct the reputation other people give me."
It figured. That was just like him. The reason he kept smiling even when it was so awkward for her was because his concern for other people overcame his own needs. That's the kind of man he was. And that's what made it all the more painful for her to face the fact that she had reduced him to "beautiful object" status. It just made her angrier that he kept smiling after how she treated him. It made her livid.
"But, Makoto-senpai, I'm your friend! You should've at least been able to tell me! You knew the whole time that I did the same thing, why didn't you get mad? Why didn't you say anything? Anything at all to tell me about how I was treating you!"
He watched her carefully, then allowed his eyes to drift towards the pool, where his friends were pretending not to eavesdrop. He smiled and shook his head, "Gou…I told you. Making sure my friends are smiling is more important than how people treat me."
He slowly lifted his large hand to rest it on the crown of her head, softly ruffling her hair as if he were petting a kitten. Even now, despite how she had been rude to him then ignored him, despite how he easily could have reacted differently, his hand was gentle. So…gentle.
Makoto looked at her then, straight in the eye, and his expression was the most forthright and genuine one she had ever seen on his face. And his words were soft and as honest as the bashful stutter at the beginning of his sentence.
"E-especially you…You shouldn't be so sad. It makes me so much happier when you smile."
His piercing gaze nearly scared her, but she forced herself not to look away. She forced herself to watch his face. The subtlety of his sincere eyes, the hopeful furrow of his eyebrows, the way the edges of his mouth would pull on his cheeks when he was anxious for a response. She shook her head, "I don't understand you sometimes…Why would you even go to all that trouble after how cruelly I treated you?"
"That's simple, Gou-chan." He gave her auburn hair one last ruffle, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary as the lengths of her locks slid through his fingers. Then he stretched and turned around, about to join his teammates in the pool. He adjusted the goggles from his neck to his forehead, then, holding the goggles' rims, he spun his upper body to face her.
And he gave her a grin unlike any she'd seen before, "It's because your smile is my favorite one."
Then he snapped the goggles over his eyes, sped off, and plunged into the pool. Whether the guys teased Makoto until he turned red or Haruka just smirked at him knowingly was anyone's guess. Gou Matsuoka was too busy facing the other direction, waiting for her face to cool down. But she couldn't seem to make the goofy grin on her face disappear. So she would turn around with a smile on her face and watch Makoto again, this time, her gaze fixed on his face.
Yes, this is my first Free! work. No, I haven't been able to see every episode. No, I don't have the internet to be able to do so. Yes, I have done my research. Yes, this is supposed to be sweet and make people laugh. So, leave me a comment if you feel so inclined. Blessings and Prayers, my friends! See you next water time!
~4thFromtheFurnace