Chapter Seven
Feelings
Mizushima Kasumi's Point of View
I was standing in the locker rooms, sitting on the wooden bench, lined with mahogany rods and emptiness. A baby blue towel lay still around my neck. Thoughts were streaming through my mind.
Nanase . . .
Haruka . . .
Why were these feelings arousing around you at such a time like this?
How could I lose? I worked so hard to get where I am now.
A few water droplets dripped from the ends of the strands of my bleached hair. What used to be black was now a hue of hazel. Nanase, on the other hand, had hair still as black as ever. I had no idea whether or not he dyed his hair or something, but . . . his hair was still beautiful. The way he swished his hair with a simple snap of the head . . . Hn . . . Why am I even thinking of such things?
A sudden cheer of the crowds was heard from where I was now. It was either Kimura-san won or Makoto. In this case, since the girls were screaming 'oh em gee' here and there, I was presuming that Makoto won since he was so 'kawaii.' In which, he is in a sort of way, but why am I even admitting this to you now? I do not know.
I unlocked my swim locker that stored my belongings- a set of clothes, water, phone, and simple picture that I still had from Haruka from when he dropped it accidentally back in the olden days.
Truth was, I still held some emotions for the old team. They were kind, caring, and loving—all that I could possibly ask for, but . . . that was then and this is now. Tsk . . . Katy Perry moment.
The TV in the waiting room was screening the next race—breaststroke.
"Next in line is Matsumoto Arisu versus Hazuki Nagisa!" the speaker began. "With Nagisa with a current winning streak of nineteen, can Arisu beat his triumphant stretch? Or will he get to twenty with ease?"
Arisu began raising the crowd's enthusiasm, mostly with the males in the lot, while Nagisa started acing childish as ever . . . like a child . . .
"Now!" the speaker roared. "On your marks . . . Get set . . . Go!"
The two dived straight into the crystal waters. At each and every stroke, you could see the splashes rising from the impacts clearly. It was all so dramatic . . . in a way . . . that if you looked closely . . . you could see that it all seemed like a raging waterfall . . . Descending from the heavens with gravity pulling against its strings . . . Crashing down directly into the waters below . . . Celestial, if I may add.
Each and every soaring water droplet from the water was like a miniscule speck of glitter . . . A star that you could just catch in midair.
Arisu was fairing fine, reaching farther and farther by each and every stroke. If you looked to the right lane beside Arisu, you could see Nagisa leading the stroke perfectly by a sheer three meters.
"Arisu . . ." I said her name mentally.
By the looks of it, you could see and feel the determination in Arisu's eyes that held a pure appearance of resolution.
Stroking farther by the millisecond, now passing the horizontal point where Nagisa was, she was conquering the breaststroke like I have never seen her before. Maybe there was some purpose behind her mahogany eyes . . . maybe there was something deeper and deeper within herself that was branded in secrecy. What was this sensation of power that was emitted from her now? Where did this all appear out of the blue? So suddenly? Too evident and clear?
Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .
"Matsumoto Arisu has won the race!" the announcer yelled loudly. "The swift Nagisa has been defeaten!"
The crowd was aroused. Cheers of shock and awe were heard. Awestrucking. How could someone as simple-minded as Arisu beat someone as successful as Nagisa? Was this even possible?
The cameraman followed Arisu as she returned to the rest of my team. Jumping up and down again and again, she was ecstatic.
Tears were running down my face. I didn't even know whether or not they were tears of joy—for Arisu, or tears of grief—for the stability of my very own mind.
Arisu. For whom stood along by my side all the way throughout my high school years at Ryosuke High School. My mind. For whom has caused me some doubts of my heart and soul instead of focusing on the simplicity of swimming in the pool's waters. What was this? Mutiny? Note the sarcasm since I am nowhere near the ocean . . . for the matter.
"Now," the speaker roared. "If the remaining contestants, Akiyama Eiko and . . . Wait a moment . . . Yukimura Team. Why have you submitted not one, but two, swimmers for the competition?"
The boisterous crowd lowered several volumes to nothing as they awaited Matsuoka Gou's answer.
"This is simply a practice race, no?" she questioned. "Just imagine as if Akiyama-san is versing just one opponent. I hope that that is okay with you, Akiyama-san."
"It is fine," my captain confirmed with a warm smile. "A little more competition wouldn't hurt."
"Alright then, everyone!" the speaker announced. "You heard her! On your marks, swimmers, get set . . . and . . . go!"
At that signal, Matsuoka Rin, Ryugakaki Rei, and Akiyama Eiko leaped into the waters.
Stroke after stroke and after stroke, I watched as Akiyama-taichou swam like there was no end . . . like it was the last time for her to swim. Ever.
Kick after kick and after kick. All three of them looked like striking beasts of the waters. Unknown, yet powerful.
By now it was at the flipping point, still watching the screen before me, I watched as Akiyama continued to persist against her peers. Enemies, if you may call it, of this very swimming competition. Rin's push off the midpoint gave him an upper hand of Ryugazaki and Akiyama. However, Ryugazaki's persistence gave him an edge in the waters. Akiyama-taichou, on the other hand, emitted an intimidating feeling of purpose . . . of power.
Five more meters . . . Four . . . Three . . . Two . . . One . . . Zero.
The lot of them were too close, for the record, for me to see.
"Wow, everyone, now this is a shocker!" the speaker announced.
"Ryugazaki has ranked third. Matsuoka has ranked second." He trailed off. "Akiyama Eiko has achieved first in this stunning competition!"
At this mere announcement, Eiko was jumping up and down a myriad amount of times.
The audience was stunned. How could a girl's team prevail over an elite male's team who was practically all over the Internet, magazines, and the radio.
Deciding that watching the TV was enough, I decided to join my team in the last and final event of the day—the relay.