Aoi Asahina approached the lifeguard tower with pride, smiling with a little swing in her step. Wearing a tight-fitted black swimsuit, hair tied up in her usual style, she climbed the four rungs of the ladder up to her lofty seat, and comfortably placed herself there.
"You're not joining us, Hina?" Hakagure asked from across the pool, to which the brown-haired girl giggled and shook her head, waving her hand dismissively.
"Oh, please," she said, "I swim enough already as it is. Plus I'm the only one here who'd make a decent lifeguard if any of you start drowning!"
"Be careful, Mukuro," said a voice next to Kiyotaka who stood with the rest of the class aside the pool, all in swimming attire. "Wouldn't want you to drown, now would we?" A menacing little giggle followed the girl's words, and he didn't need to look to know that it was Junko Enoshima.
"Well... I suppose it could be rather... enjoyable..." Mukuro replied, and Kiyotaka could only wonder what the hell was wrong with the pair of them. One of them was a sadist, the other was some sort of masochist. It scared him.
Today was swimming practice, and the class had been brought out to the Old Building of Hope's Peak, home to the reserve students, simply to use their pool. It was, they were told, the only building on campus that had a pool. Their stubby little teacher had come with them, of course, camera in hand. Kiyotaka already knew, without doubt, that they would be sitting on the sidelines, most likely texting or snoozing. It was what the teachers did around here, often showing very little to no effort at all. He would be surprised if even a single picture was taken today. The teacher was only here because they had no other choice, and that was a fact.
Kiyotaka, nor any of his fellow students (to his knowledge, at least), had ever come to the Old Building before, and he was glad that they hadn't. From their brief patrol through the corridors on their way to the first-floor pool, he had noticed trash in the hallways that appeared to have been there for some time. There were a couple of broken windows on the ground floor, a coating of dust was present on the occasional surface, and then, of course, there were the reserve students themselves. Never had the white-suited hall monitor ever seen hallways in such blatant disrepair.
The reserve students had stared at them as they walked past, whispering and pointing, faces stern and filled with disgust, like a dissatisfied mob gathering to see much-despised royalty. It had certainly put the class on-edge, with even the teacher himself looking anxious, as if they were passing through a den of starving tigers. Kiyotaka, on the other hand, did not feel fear. He did not feel anxiety. Rather, he experience a sense of pity.
These people, perfectly good students with a desire to learn and achieve their dreams, had been condemned to a fairly worn-down old building and regarded as mere money-making cattle, simply for their lack of 'talent' or 'genius'. It disgusted the Ultimate Moral Compass greatly. He didn't blame the reserve coursers for holding contempt towards his class. In a way, he held a similar anger towards them at times. His class did so enjoy throwing away the opportunities handed to them on a silver platter, after all. Byakuya, for instance, had refused to come swimming today. Swimming, he said, was "beneath him".
When compared to the Old Building, the New Building which Kiyotaka, his classmates and the teachers loved to complain about, with its lack of air-conditioning, was a palace of the highest quality. No air-conditioning was better than what he considered to be academic squalor.
Oh well, at least the swimming pool was clean.
The blow of Asahina's whistle echoed across the room suddenly, as she leaned back her chair, raised her arms and a single leg, and cheered. "The pool is open!"
Despite the teacher being present (albeit sitting on a bench, typing away on their phone, just as Kiyotaka had expected), Asahina had proudly taken the role of commander over this entire operation, and the incredible grin on her face indicated that she was already having a blast.
No one entered the pool immediately. Most of the class clung awkwardly to the sides, looking at each other cautiously to see who would enter first. One of those odd, socially awkward rules that everyone followed and Kiyotaka never understood. He was, without hesitation, the first one into the water, jumping in like some kind of athlete, immediately propelling himself to the other side of the pool's length.
The rest of the world faded out to him, his sole fixation being on reaching the other side of the pool. He wasn't here to splash around and have fun, he was here to exercise and push himself further than anyone thought possible. He would swim so many lengths with such speed and intensity, that even the Ultimate Swimmer herself would be awestruck.
It wasn't long before he had reached the other side, now turning to swim back to the other one, realising now that the others were hopping into the pool along with him. He was leading the way, it seemed. He was proud of that. He swam back, disregarding any of his classmates and their activities, too busy concentrating on his speed and his effort. He had to push himself. He had to improve. He had to be better.
Kiyotaka rested for a moment, exhausted. Wiping the water from his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, trying to get his stamina back. He had no idea how many lengths he had swam now, having lost count at fifty-seven. He hated himself for having to take this rest, for having to stop for the sake of oxygen, but he was only human, after all.
Deciding to make every moment of his rest count, he took the time to observe the others as he hugged the pool wall, a single arm slung over it. Celeste and Fukawa stood well away from the pool. Not that such a fact surprised him. Fukawa was muttering to herself, hands in her hair, apparently on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She seemed to have the world's biggest (and creepiest) crush on Byakuya, and regularly fell apart without him in her range of sight.
Leon was splashing everyone that came near him (of course he was). Junko and Mukuro were, for once, a considerable distance from each other. Chihiro stood on her own, her little body balancing well in the water, also partaking in a little bit of casual observation. Naegi had just climbed out of the pool, apparently approaching Kirigiri and Maizono, whom were taking a rest together, talking and nodding at each other's words. Asahina, of course, was spectating the entire event, occasionally blowing her whistle just for the sake of it.
"Ugh..." A grunt came from behind him.
Mondo Oowada, far too close for Kiyotaka's comfort, stared out across the pool, completely bone dry. He seemed to be debating whether or not he should jump in, occasionally fixing his hair with the paranoia of it getting wet. Kiyotaka never understood how he created that monstrosity of hair on his head, and what motivation he had to wear it around daily when it looked like such a disaster.
Hagakure was approaching the pool, about to hop back in, while Hifumi bobbed like a giant balloon on the surface. Wait... where was Sakura?
Just as that thought passed through his well-polished mind, the colossal superhuman burst out from the water, directly under Hifumi. The round boy went flying, screaming as he did so, while Sakura dove into the air, a powerful shower of water falling around her.
Why did she have a fish at the end of her fist?!
Asahina blew her whistle again, the sound bouncing off the walls of the room, just as Leon splashed water into Junko's face. What children they were.
Deciding he had seen enough at finding that his stamina was more than replenished, Kiyotaka set off again, headed to the other side of the pool, his body aching with the exertion it was being subjected to. Not that he minded. In fact, he barely even felt it. The foolishness of his classmates was all the motivation he needed to return to bettering himself and his body.
"Class photo!" He heard the teacher chime, but he didn't dare to stop swimming. That wasn't important. Photos meant nothing to him. He had set himself a task, and he intended on finishing it.
As the teacher snapped the chaotic shot, the hall monitor sped onwards.
He had to be better.
He had to be stronger.
He had to be perfect.