Written for RinHaru Week 2014

Prompt: Canon (Take your Marks) – Blue (prepping, training, etc.)/Red (directly post-tournament)

1)

"Take your marks!"

All they had been training for in the last few months lead up to this moment, when they called 'take your marks'.

And they lost.

Rin couldn't help it; his eyes started to sting and he turned away as the tears fell from his face, clenching his hands into fists, as he grabbed onto the dark haired boy. He leant into Haru's shoulder as he hid his face from the world. Months of training, of refining his body, of getting ready to win, wasted and all for nothing. He scoffed at his younger, idealistic self, at his dreams of being an Olympic swimmer, of standing on the podium with his head held high, and clasping the gold medal. If they couldn't win in a simple national competition, there was no way they'd ever get to the Olympics. It was hard, harder than he ever thought it would be.

Haru didn't cry. He stood there, silent as Rin sobbed into his shoulder. They were supposed to win. They were supposed to look at each in disbelief, months and months of training paying itself off. This was the day their dreams were supposed to come true.

And they lost.

2)

"Take your marks!"

Haru heard the words from the stands.

What started out as a little pain in his leg turned out to be something much worse. The doctors warned him, he had to take it easy; otherwise he would risk injuring himself further. If he kept his arduous training up, he might injure himself to the point where he would never be able to swim again. He didn't have to worry, though. His leg would heal right up and he'd be able to complete in the next one. They didn't understand; it was the Olympics. It was their dream.

It was Rin who told him to stop.

Rin was the one who had to watch the dark haired boy push himself to the maximum, straining his muscles and using everything he had as he trained for their dream. He was the one who had to watch Haru hurt himself, damage his body and use up everything he had as he trained for their dream. He didn't understand; sure, it was the Olympics. Sure, it was their dream.

But Haru was more important than that.

3)

"Take your marks!"

All they had been training for in the last few months lead up to this moment, when they called 'take your marks'.

And they won.

It was slow at first, and they took it event by event. It was a vicious cycle of training then competition, training, then tournament. First, they lost more than they won and their dream seemed so far out of reach. They both had their own ways of coping and they trained harder than ever, because their dream was just beyond their fingertips, they just had to lunge and grab it- and lunge they did. They didn't know when, but losses turned to victory and their dreams were so close they could almost taste it.

Haru's race had been first, and he dragged himself out of the pool, legs made of jelly as he cast a glance at the score board, at the 1st beside his name. It didn't sink in, not until he heard the crowd calling his name, claps thunderous as the echoed in his ears. Rin's race was later and the redhead had taken one look at the score board before breaking down, face scrunching up as he tried to stop the flow of tears. He had latched onto Haru's jacket, hiding his face from the world, this time for an altogether much different reason. They both stood on the podium, clutching their medals as if they thought they would disappear. Their races had been tough, and it had taken all they had.

And they won.

4)

"Take your marks!"

Rin had called it with a grin, "Take your marks, set, go," and they were off, a simple there-and-back race in a pool filled with cherry blossom petals. Haru had never been able to back down from any of Rin's challenges. The sun had started to set, sending a chill into the air that the two of them didn't feel one bit, the sky cast a warm yellow.

It had been close; too close, in fact, to tell which of them had one. Of course, Rin was convinced it was him who had come out victorious. Haru scoffed at the idea, after all, it was him who had won. Both of them stubborn to the core, refusing to let the other win, they had decided there was a better way to settle the competition.

Lips pressed roughly against each other, they'd refused to give an inch. In a pool filled with cherry blossom petals, it was just the two of them.

And somehow, they both won.