When he offered another outing for lunch, Haru had forgotten that meant they'd both be heading to the locker room at the same time. After years of swimming, Haru is used to changing and showering with other people present, but those other people have always been teammates. Yamazaki is an outsider. There is nothing that groups them together but the label "friend." Haru finds himself turning his back to Yamazaki as he rinses the chlorine from his skin.
Haru isn't shy about showing skin. After all, he's a swimmer and used to at least baring his top half. If he was standing with Makoto in the shower, he wouldn't hesitate to strip down under the hot water. But with just Yamazaki, he hesitates fingers hovering above his hipbones. It shouldn't be awkward, and yet Haru's reluctance is strong. Haru showers quickly, not letting himself relax under the warm stream. He both showers and dresses without looking at Yamazaki, though Haru sees him moving in his peripheral vision.
Yamazaki finishes dressing first, and he gathers his wet swimsuit and goggles in a bag he slings over his shoulder. He leans against one of the lockers only a few feet away as Haru pulls his shirt over his head and zips up his jacket. They walk outside soundlessly. A cold breeze hits them, and Haru hunches into his jacket. His hair is still damp and his head feels icy.
"Let's go somewhere close," Haru says still clutching his jacket around his shoulders. He makes a mental note–that he'll probably forget–to pay more attention to how cold it is before he goes outside.
"It's not that cold," Yamazaki comments stressing the "that."
Haru rolls his eyes. "Easy for you to say."
Haru walks quickly and another gust of cold wind drowns out Yamazaki's response. They cross the street and walk to a place with "sushi" in the title. Haru wants mackerel, as usual, but most types of fish are at least alright in his book. He knows there will be something he likes if there's sushi. As they enter the little restaurant, Haru notes that Yamazaki walks a few steps behind him. So as not to get lost, Haru guesses and a small smile plays around his lips.
The restaurant is a little bit of a step up from the sandwich place they ate at previously, and the two sit at a table covered in a simple white cloth. They're presented with menus, and silence ensues. Haru quickly finds something with mackerel in it and sets his menu down. His eyes fall on his lunch partner–it is lunch, Haru checked the time. Yamazaki seems to be reading everything on the menu as slowly as possible, and Haru quickly bores of simply looking at Yamazaki.
"Are you swimming often?" Haru breaks the silence, and Yamazaki doesn't have a choice but to look up.
"Always with the swimming, huh, Nanase?"
"You shouldn't be surprised." Haru gives him a glare.
"Once or twice a week–depends how busy I am at work."
The look on Yamazaki's face when he says "work" is something that sparks Haru's attention. Yamazaki scrunches his nose and his eyes look their seeing something that's not physically present. Haru recalls that Yamazaki made some sort of snide comment about his work at their first lunchtime meeting, and he remembers that he didn't press the case.
"What's your job?" Haru asks opening the door to the conversation while not shoving Yamazaki into it.
Yamazaki's eyes flick to Haru's face. There's a moment of consideration, then Yamazaki's gaze turns back to the menu in front of him. At first, Haru thinks Yamazaki is about to ignore him. He is wrong.
"My father is a businessman. As his son, I got an legup and a manager position with no experience. I couldn't turn it down." Yamazaki pauses. "I hate it."
Yamazaki glares at the menu like it's done something to harm him personally.
"Why?"
There's a moment when Haru recoils from Yamazaki's harsh look, but it doesn't last long. Yamazaki looks down again–ashamed at reacting so much, perhaps.
"It's complicated."
They both fall silent until the food comes. Like at the sandwich shop, neither talks while they eat, and Haru saves about half of his food for later. He closes the leftover sushi in a box. Yamazaki is the one who starts the conversation up again.
"I know it's a little late, but congrats on winning gold."
This earns eye roll and a sigh from Haru.
"Thanks. I hope you didn't take this long to congratulate Rin."
"What? No. He'd kill me."
Haru smiles at this. Thinking of Rin suddenly makes him feel a little guilty that they haven't talked in a while. Their last phone call was before he'd seen Yamazaki, so nearly a month.
"He's in Australia now, right?" Haru asks absentmindedly, still thinking about whether he should call Rin or wait until the redhead calls him again.
"He's at a competition in France, actually."
Haru can hear that Yamazaki wants to say more, but doesn't. He decides to call Rin after lunch with Yamazaki.
"It sounds like he's having fun," Yamazaki adds.
"I'm sure he is."
Yamazaki opens his mouth as if to say something, but stops. Haru waits wondering why Yamazaki is hesitating. He'd gotten the impression that Rin had a very direct best friend, but then he remembers how long Yamazaki kept silent about his injury.
"Go ahead," Haru prompts, tired of the fish-out-of-water look he's getting from his lunch partner.
Said lunch partner swallows. "I will, just give me time, dammit" his face seems to say. Yamazaki picks up the glass of water he's hardly touched throughout their meal and takes a sip. He sets it down on the table with a clink.
"Why did you stop swimming?"
The air between them runs cold. Haru lets both of his hands drop to his lap. It's the question he should have expected, but he had hoped Yamazaki would somehow avoid asking it. He tries to answer it lightly.
"I was careless." He taps his left shoulder catching Yamazaki's gaze. He hopes it's understanding he sees returned.
Yamazaki breaks eye contact. "Even you, huh?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The question is left unanswered, and the air between them is left awkward. Haru hadn't wanted to feel this way with Yamazaki. He feels his anxiety pricking at the edge of his consciousness. Maybe he would be better off sticking with the friends he already has and ignoring everyone else. But then again, maybe every connection has to be tainted by imperfections. Haru hates himself for even being at lunch with Yamazaki, and that it was his instigation.
"Is it…better?" Haru brings his gaze back to Yamazaki, and there's a look of concern that surprises him.
"Yeah."
The smile Yamazaki gives him at that simple word is definitely unexpected. It's soon gone, but the expression is stuck in Haru's mind. Yamazaki cares about me. This fact registers slowly in Haru's mind, though he's still full of doubts. The air between them is warm now–comfortable–and maybe it only felt cold to Haru anyway.
When they part, they leave with a promise of seeing each other again. It's a casual "we should do this again," from Yamazaki, but Haru's heart beats a little faster as he rushes away. It's unusual that anyone apart from his fellow Iwatobi SC members and Rin bother to ask him to hang out. It's difficult to believe that Yamazaki actually wants to see him again, and yet, that's what his statement implied.
Haru doesn't remember to call Rin. The few hours he spends at home before he leaves for his shift at the café are spent in contemplation. He starts out drawing, but he throws his sketchbook aside when he realizes he's delineating Yamazaki's smile. The half-finished sketch stares up at him from the coffee table.
He stands and walks the the high counter that divides the living room and the kitchen. He rests his head on crossed arms. Haruka Nanase has never been in love, unless water counts. He's had crushes. Makoto first, and then people he can't really remember. Yes, he likes guys, and yes, Yamazaki is on his mind a lot. Haru leaves his apartment quickly to go for a run. It's different than swimming and not as effective at calming him down, but it's something.
The streets flash by him without being recognized, because his mind is stuck on Yamazaki. Part of him wants to run away and not return, but the logical part of his mind knows the impulse is unrealistic and childish. Haru settles for simply running until he's out of breath and almost late for his shift. He has time to return to his apartment and change out of his sweatpants and sports jacket, but only just.
Takahashi doesn't say anything when he arrives at Little Bean slightly out of breath and still flushed from the exercise. As he works his shift, dividing time between helping Takahashi and helping at the counter, his mind still wanders. He needs release. He needs to let all these annoying thoughts out and start from a blank slate. Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that, and Haru is left with a headache.
His usual deft hands are clumsy. Haru works more slowly than usual and winces every so often as his head throbs. Takahashi doesn't fail to note that his assistant is out of sorts.
"You can go home, Haru. It's a Thursday night, there's nothing special to do."
Haru pauses with his hands hovering above a mixing bowl for a moment before they drop to his sides. He leaves with a muttered apology and a promise to come in on Saturday, when he usually doesn't work. Takahashi waves him off.
It's 7 when he gets home, and despite the early hour, he goes straight to bed. Haru's sleep is fitful and the headache follows him into his dreams. His dream starts out in water, as usual, but as he swims he feels something gripping at his ankles. Dark, unnamed forces are holding him back. Suddenly, his left arm is bitten into. The pain is sharp and real, so much so that he wakes in a moment's time. His heart pounds in his chest. He thinks he sees something moving in the shadows and rushes to turn the light on.
Haru settles back against the headboard of his bed. He feels something warm trickle down his cheeks, and it takes a second to realize that he's crying. Haru hasn't cried over a nightmare in a long time. His nightmares have been a constant presence through his life, reminding him that life is like swimming and water can be fickle, but this is new. He might have woken crying in high school, but not since then, not even as he made his choice to quit competitive swimming or when he realized he had was injured.
Once his heart rate has slowed to a more normal pace, Haru climbs out of bed shivering slightly in the cool air. His feet take him to the bathroom, where he leans over the sink and splashes his face with water. The water drips down his cheeks erasing the tear tracks. Haru's grip on the sides of the sink tightens even as his hands shake. He relaxes slowly, easing his grip on the sink. He lets his knees drop to the floor hardly wincing at the dull pain it causes.
Ten minutes later, or maybe more, Haru doesn't notice the time pass, he slowly stands. He picks up a towel and pats down his face and spares a glance at the mirror. He hardly ever looks at himself, because he doesn't care much for appearances, but now he does. His face is a little thinner than it was because he's hasn't been eating regularly and isn't on a strict diet that Makoto held him to. His cheekbones are defined and his eyes are almost a little too large for his face. Right now, there are shadows under his eyes, and they look sunken. He thinks he looks a lot older than twenty-five.
He doesn't wake again until morning. His dreams for the rest of the night are disturbing but murky. And while the anxious feeling of being hunted down or trapped follows him into the morning, Haru can't remember a single detail of his dreams.