Chapter Ten: Legendary Swimsuit
Now there is a challenge. And one Haruka is willing to accept, despite the damn near impossible chance of succeeding.
Mizuki won't be satisfied unless she makes some progress today. With her feet spaced apart and her lithe, tanned legs looking ridiculously long, she sure looks ready for action. All Haruka can do is stare from his position in the pool, the chlorine liquid reaching his chin.
Her swimsuit is hot—a black maillot style one piece, stylish white side panels, sleeveless, with a scoop neckline, racer back and high cut legs. It's a very tight-fitting style of swimsuit; perfect for effortlessly paving a way through the water. Her long hair is tucked away by means of a black swimming cap, emblazoned with a sports company logo. Black strapped swimming goggles with golden tinted lenses hang around her neck.
To Haruka, she's like some ancient Greek water Goddess: the mother of fish, seals and dolphins. Despite himself, the boy feels his heart leap more than once.
"I only have an hour to spare, so let's make this quick," Mizuki checks the time on her waterproof watch. Haruka swallows greedily, the beating of his heart growing louder, louder!
"Then get in," he mumbles inarticulately, with his hand outstretched to support her.
Mizuki freezes. He recognizes that look of fear in her eyes. Wading into the water, she feels horrified, but with a great deal of puffing she manages to stand tall, a foul expression gracing her face.
"Try to be in harmony with the water," Haruka encourages her; "you're too tense."
"I can't relax anymore than this."
"Yes, you can."
"No, I can't!" she snaps. "Water is an unnatural and threatening environment. It's not easy to relax, so don't. Push. Me."
Haruka places his hands on Mizuki's shoulders and pushes her lightly with the uneasy gentleness of a cat. As soon as the girl comes up, she struggles to the wall and puffs and pants and glares fiercely at her classmate.
"I'm going to kill you."
He glances at Mizuki. She's not looking in the least scared now.
More predatory.
Good.
"You're filled with so much tension and fear that you can't possibly move freely," Haruka moves closer, coming up beside her—reaching for her shaking hands and guiding her further into the pool. "When you don't move freely you don't flow. Water is a fluid; flowing freely through it is the answer."
"I can't do this," she protests. Why is he looking at her like she disappointed him somehow?
"You're giving up," he says, suddenly annoyed. "After you convinced me you were inspired to do better, too." He didn't know before, but Mizuki obtained inspiration from watching the club win their first relay—inspiration that played a vital part to overcoming her phobia.
Makoto pushed off the wall, got in a parallel position, curled his shoulders in, then started kicking, and kicking, and kicking. He kept his parallel line—kept his head back, noise pointing up—kept kicking, then switched shoulders, and breathed.
Nagisa took over and pushed off the block, deep into the water, then assumed a streamlined pencil position with his hands out in front. Rising to the surface with both his hands closing in on his chest, they shot out quickly side by side, palms up and performing the out-sweep, adding breath into his movements.
Pencil, out-sweep, in-sweep, extension, then pencil again.
Pull, breathe, kick, glide, and repeat.
He looked much taller in the water than he was on land.
In came Rei with his butterfly kick; his arms and hands along the side of his body, leading with the head, letting his body follow. With his arms in front, he kept his serpentine motions small, his hips going up and down—the most sensual movement the butterfly stroke provides, or any stroke, in Mizuki's opinion—occasionally dropping too deep or rising too high.
They made it look so easy. They were so fishlike that they looked downright elegant, in the same way Michael Jordan looked elegant playing basketball. They looked so graceful and controlled that she'd never suspect they were going all out.
Haruka was anchoring the relay, using his arms and legs to launch himself from the block into a stream-lined position. Mizuki never tires of seeing his form, so strong and beautiful, reach the depths of the pool, then kicking upward and churning the surface of the water, always kicking.
He swam well. Her eyes saw that. His strong, easy strokes carried him swiftly through the water.
She stared, transfixed.
She was a well-brought-up girl, and she knew how rude it was to stare; but this was a special occasion. She stared. More, she gaped. She leaned farther over the rail, farther still. Her sun-shading straw hat slid from her hand.
When Haruka reached the wall, a shortness of breath, he was dragged out of the pool by Makoto and then jumped upon by Nagisa. They were jumping up and down with excitement, embracing one another. Everyone was having so much fun, Mizuki thought, watching them in their happiest moment.
The sight awakened her confidence to a blazing flame. The flame was only temporarily, it seemed, doused by the venomous water trying to swallow her whole.
"I'm sorry—" begins Mizuki presently, but that's as far as she gets, because just then a stream of water from Haruka's hands spurts right into her open mouth. "Cut it out!"
"You can do this," he says, his face expressionless. He doesn't know the extent of the struggle she went through, but he knows she can work harder and longer than anyone he knew. Her skills with the sax is proof of that. "You're not alone in this. Just trust me and be in harmony with the water."
"Squirting water at me does not help one bit!"
"Well duh," he admits. "It had no real purpose. Just to annoy you."
"And I should trust you, why?"
"I don't see anyone else here."
"I'm leaving."
"I'll be leaving first if you're not up for this… all alone in the pool."
"You wouldn't dare."
He's a bit irritated she looks so surprised. "Yeah. I'll leave the pool," he says defiantly. "Have fun swimming by yourself." He draws in a sharp breath, praying he doesn't look that upset to get out the water.
Something blows in her head. A fuse, a gasket, whatever is holding her back. "A-alright! Please stay! I'll-I'll do my best, so please…"
"That's what I thought," he answers smugly, praising the water gods in his head. Bluffing isn't his forte, and if it was anyone other than Mizuki—take Makoto for instance, he would have seen right through his bluff.
He makes an effort to teach her how to float in water, because the key to floating is, ironically, a major challenge for her: she has to relax. Mizuki's trust in him to help overcome her fear will also be tested. Once her body is aligned with the water, Haruka places his hand under her back and makes the necessary adjustments.
She feels warm to the touch.
He likes it.
"Breathe deeply. Exhale and repeat," he advises, in a soothing voice. In him arouses a feeling of fondness. Even floating around like this, she's charming, with a few strands of hair peeking out from under her cap, that not so gentle rise of color in her cheeks, and her small and pretty nose that she abruptly wrinkles in deep concentration.
Haruka experiences almost physical pleasure in the sensation of being near; he selfishly ignores the fact that she can float on her own, but he reminds himself to let go, rather than indulge for just a few more seconds in the warm softness.
While Mizuki slowly drifts away she says, "Am I doing okay?"
He gives her a long, slow look, and replies, "You're on your own."
All at once she startles into the water, splashing wildly about. At this moment, however, two hands, grasp her beneath the arms, lifting her head above the water.
"It's alright," he murmurs in her ear, his hands settling on her waist now.
She turns, finding him enticingly close, and for the first time she truly registers how handsome he is, in a careless, I-get-up-looking-like-this-in-the-morning kind of way. Mizuki begins to babble, "R-right, I… I… I should be going now."
The anger she'd shown since he pushed her into the water dissipates. He doesn't want for her to feel uncomfortable, so he gives her some space and nods.
Nagisa's bubbly voice is heard down the hallway, his steady footsteps closing in. He's chatting up a storm with Makoto, Rei and Gou not too far behind. Such fun they were having that they don't see ahead, and Makoto bumps into Mizuki just heading to the changing room.
Makoto, letting out a frenzied yell by looking at her alien-like appearance, hides behind Rei to bury himself in the crowd, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste; he's horrified. When he discovers it's just Mizuki after she gets rid of her cap, her long hair falling down, he's speechless. Makoto starts to apologize, but Nagisa cuts him off and he outright laughs, in which Gou and Rei join gleefully.
"Thank you for the lesson, Haru," Mizuki says hastily, "See you guys another time," making her way through the small crowd.
"It's nothing," Haruka answers, with a light flick of his hair. He sees that the group—minus a preoccupied Rei running calculations in his head—is smiling, and Nagisa's smile is most definitely of the creepy kind.
"You're very wet," he says, with an accusing, but playful tone of voice.
Haruka glances down at his swimming trunks. It's supposed to be wet, right? He doesn't understand the problem, if there is one in the first place.
"Mizu-chan too. The both of you were wet. Together," Nagisa wriggles his brows suggestively. "In a pool of—" "You should totally change into something dry, before you catch a cold," Makoto silences him with his hand covering Nagisa's blabbering mouth.
"It's the middle of summer—"
"Haru, go drink some bottled water or something!"
"Okay," Haruka blinks lazily as he walks away, not even caring anymore.
"Why weren't we informed of Mizuki-senpai's private lessons?" Gou questions with a tilt of her head.
I assume there's not much to tell. She must be embarrassed in some way and wanted to practice privately with Haruka-senpai; it's the only logical explanation," answers Rei, quietly.
"Yeah, together—"
"Don't start again Nagisa!" Makoto turns scarlet.
"How about we follow Haru-chan and—Rei-chan, what's that?"
"Oh, this?" Rei holds up a roll of duct tape meaningfully. "This, my friend, will keep you quiet and immobile for a short period of time. I simply have to calculate how much tape is needed to complete this seemingly impossible task."
His handsome face glitters with malice.
"I'm pretty sure this is illegal," Makoto looks around, a nervous wreck.
"I'm pretty sure you're sadistic, Rei-kun," Gou rolls her eyes. Typical boy behavior.
"And I'm certain this will serve as a beautiful piece of inspiration!"