A/N: Yes, hello, this is an update, no it hasn't been a month, don't lie. (I'm a soon-to-be college graduate, please don't hold my slowness against me!) Ummm, I probably had things I wanted to say about this chapter once upon a time, but I've forgotten them all. Oh wait, I have found my notes! The general consensus for the last chapter was something around the lines of 'you're killing me!' or 'i'm dying!' but that's going to be changing soon, pinky promise! We're reaching a transition point!
And thank you for guest reviewers Minty and Guest (aka 'Guest the Supreme' in my head). And a big thanks also to Midanburi! You had private messaging disabled, so I couldn't reply to your comment^^
Chapter Five: Impenetrable (Spring Break - part 2)
It isn't avoidance, Haruka tells himself. If it was, Rin wouldn't have looked so shocked that Haruka would talk to him. It has to be something else. Or at least, if Rin was avoiding him at the party, it wasn't for what Haruka had thought. He doesn't think Rin's mad at him.
He wonders when this 'other time' Rin promised will come around, wonders if the ball's in Rin's court now or if he's still the one who has to initiate contact.
Wonders why he's pretending Rin meant anything by it.
The morning after Nagisa's party, he's at the pool for hours. Teaching Hiro, then swimming laps when the lanes are set up, then just floating on his back staring at the strings of little blue and yellow flags that drape overhead, from one end of the pool to the other. As he stares, he thinks, but not deeply – thoughts that flit in and out of consistency, and have to do with Rin in a vague, frustrated way.
A few other swimmers are in the other lanes, but nobody pays him much attention. He hears the sounds of their strokes, the water lapping gently against the sides of the pool and into the gutters. And then, when he's been floating for who knows how long, he hears voices, a crowd. He tilts his head and sees a group of middle-aged men and women converging at the benches, laying down towels and putting on goggles. It's some sort of class, and he's finally chased from the pool.
He showers, goes home, and gets in the bath. His fingers and toes have hardly had the time to un-prune, but he can think of nothing else to do. Listless and disheartened, he rests the back of his head against the lip of the tub and wonders how he's going to go about things, though he feels too drained to try to come up with any definite answers.
Much later, when he turns out the light to go to bed, he's momentarily confused by the glow coming from his desk. When he realizes it's his phone, something lodges in his throat, jolting him out of his stupor.
The message is from Nagisa, succinct yet palpably brimming with energy: Ten o'clock, sharp!
Haruka stares for a long moment, then he replies: I know. The listlessness returns, heavier.
Had he actually thought it might have been Rin, or had he just lost his mind for a moment?
Sleep comes easily, which is a relief, and it's a surprise when he wakes up the next morning a little after nine. He's already told Hiro and Ishikawa-san that he won't be making it to the pool today, but he hadn't expected to sleep in. It seems that no matter the context, Rin can still manage to exhaust him.
Makoto is at his door just as he finishes a rushed breakfast, and soon they're on their way to their old school.
Planting flowers is (and at this point, is anything ever not?) Nagisa's idea. He took inspiration from the garden Haruka's class planted before their middle school graduation, and claims it's only fitting that the founding members of the Iwatobi swim team do the same now that they're all going off in their own directions. It will symbolize a fresh start and a bright future, or something along those lines, Haruka can't quite remember.
When he and Makoto arrive, Nagisa, Rei, and Kou are gathered by the planting site, which is a patch of grass outside the pool fence, mostly protected by bushes, that the principal's granted them permission to renovate. There are several trays of yellow and orange flowers arranged haphazardly on the sidewalk, and some tools alongside them.
"Haru-chan! Mako-chan!" Nagisa calls, waving them over when he spots them. He's already decked out in gardening gloves and a visor for the sun, and is quick to order them all to work.
"But Nagisa-kun, you haven't informed us of the procedure," Rei says, looking down at the flowers with visible discomfort, likely trying and failing to come up with a formula that will help him with the task at hand.
"The grass," Haruka says. Everyone looks at him, though he doesn't know why they look so surprised – he manages the small garden at home just fine. "We have to strip it, to get to the soil."
"Right you are, Haru-chan!" Nagisa says, punching him not-so-gently in the arm. Everyone collects a spade – or in Rei's case, gets one shoved into his hands and then is lead by the arm onto the grass by Nagisa, who is saying soothingly, "They're just flowers, Rei-chan. This'll be fun, no grades involved."
Once they've dug up the grass and turned the soil, Nagisa leads them through the next steps, checking the directions written onto the back of his receipt by the florist he purchased the flowers from. Though spring has only just begun, the absence of clouds allows the sun to shine unfiltered, flushing their faces steadily pinker. With about half the flowers transplanted, they decide to take a break, and straighten their stiff backs with groans of protest.
"I don't know why you guys are all complaining," Kou says, rubbing at her neck. "You're supposed be in shape."
"The human body was not designed to be folded into such contorted positions for extended periods of time," Rei supplies, though the statement lacks the usual vivacity – no puffed chest; no fingers on the frames of his glasses, pushing them up his nose. Instead, he looks a bit droopy, like one of the flowers if it were wilting.
None of them was intelligent enough to bring water, so Kou and Makoto go off to the vending machines. Haruka thinks Nagisa has engaged Rei in a conversation about 'positions of the human body,' but he loses thread of that quickly. He brings the rest of the flower trays onto the grass, then sits beside them.
Orange and yellow. Happiness, joy, adventure, new beginnings, friendship. According to the lady at the flower shop, according to Nagisa. Some of the flowers look flimsy and fragile, petals hardly thicker than silk, heads bowing and dragging thin stems into arches, while others reach upwards, petals opened wide and exclamatory on top of thick stalks. Together, the effect is somehow cohesive rather than dissonant, somehow fitting for the fledgling Iwatobi team.
"How long did it feel weird, knowing you wouldn't be swimming in this pool again, Haru-chan?"
When Nagisa had ended up crouched down beside him, Haruka doesn't know. Nagisa's arms are around his knees, and his question is curious. A hint of wistfulness in his eyes. He gives a quiet smile that seems to age him before Haruka's eyes, and Haruka has to remind himself that no matter how buoyant, Nagisa is growing up too, leaving things behind if favor of the future.
He shrugs, looks back at the flowers. Sticks his finger in a bit of damp dirt. "It's still weird sometimes." In his peripherals, he sees Rei crouch down on Nagisa's other side.
"I still find it bizarre, from time to time, to think that I allowed you all to teach me how to swim," Rei says.
"Well, I dunno if one stroke counts as being able to swim," Nagisa says with humor. Then he sighs, plucks a few blades of grass. "I invited Rin-chan, but he said he was busy." He sounds pouty, almost petulant. Haruka wonders if it's a ploy, because when he glances over, Nagisa is looking at him, and looks away just as their eyes meet.
He would have preferred not to know that Rin was invited at all. Would have preferred not to know that Nagisa likely knows what Makoto has known for months – that there is something going on, and that it involves Rin, and it involves him. Which is really all he knows, it's gotten so muddled and frustrating.
The fact that it's Nagisa that shows this awareness, though, is troubling for a reason he can't quite pinpoint. He knows Nagisa isn't ignorant and he knows Nagisa isn't a child, but Nagisa isn't Makoto either, and Haruka doesn't want to be on the lookout for knowing glances from the most carefree of the bunch.
It's my business; stop nosing your way in, he almost wants to say, and then feels guilty for thinking it.
Makoto and Kou signal their return with the sound of sniggering. Haruka turns to see their arms loaded full of water bottles, their elbows bumping as they walk, as though the extra weight has unbalanced them.
"The machine gave us extras," Kou says, voice jumpy with held-in laughter, when she reaches the edge of the grass. She kneels down and lets the bottles roll out of her arms. Whatever she's talking about must be really funny, because Makoto dissolves into laughter and a few of the bottles tumble out of his arms before he can hurriedly put the rest down.
Haruka stops one before it rolls into the flowerbed, looks at them both quizzically. Kou is hunched over, arms holding her stomach. Makoto drops gracelessly onto the grass, covers his face with a hand as he laughs and laughs and laughs.
After several moments, Haruka finds a reluctant smile pulling at his lips.
"Man, I hate missing things like this!" Nagisa bursts out, and Rei asks, stunned, "What could you two possible have done to the machine?"
"There's more," Makoto manages to choke out, taking his hand away from his face just long enough to motion back the way he and Kou had come.
"What?!" Nagisa jumps up. "It's still going?! Oh my gosh, Rei-chan, we have to go see!"
"Why are we running to look at a dysfunctional vending machine?" Rei yells as he's pulled, stumbling, to his feet and then away.
When Kou and Makoto manage to quell their laughter, they are both red-faced and breathless. Kou topples onto her side in the grass, stares at the flowerbed with watery eyes.
"I'm going to miss this place," she says, voice still rich but losing energy. She gives a lazy wave of her hand. "I mean, I can still come here, I'll be back every weekend. But not being a student here anymore, I don't think it's sunk in yet. Wonder if my new school will have defective vending machines."
Nobody says anything right away. When Kou leaves for school – though she won't be far, just an hour and a half away; it'll be easier to live near campus than to commute each day – that'll leave three of them. Haruka, Makoto, and Nagisa. Which is how they started this journey, wasn't it, to re-establish the swim team, to become the unit they are now?
Then had come Kou, and when she leaves she'll be the closest.
Then had come Rei, and when he leaves he'll be farther, but Tokyo's still in the country.
And last had come Rin, and now every time he leaves there's an ocean between them again.
It's like they're going back to the start, history folding back on itself yet not taking away any time, just proximity. Even the rift between him and Rin, born out of miscommunication itself born out of a lack of real understanding of each other, born in early January, is the same on a superficial level as it had been all those winters ago.
"Remember all the way back at the beginning of my first year?" Kou says, her voice dissolving Haruka's thoughts. He meets her eyes, and she frowns at him, exaggeration just visible in the furrow of her eyebrows. "You didn't open the door for me when I went to your house that first time after school. Remember?"
Haruka remembers the ring of the bell, yes. "When I let you in the next day you just ogled my muscles for the first five minutes."
Her frown twitches into a grin, and she laughs. "Yeah, yeah. Still. I was ringing the bell for like, five minutes." She sits up, tosses her hair over her shoulder. "And Nagisa-kun actually ran into me earlier that morning! Literally ran into me. And he didn't even notice who I was! You guys were very unwelcoming, you know."
"I saw you on the roof," Makoto says.
"Eh?! You did?"
By now Haruka is lost again, but it's clear and Kou and Makoto are on the same page.
Makoto nods. "You and Hanamura-chan. You didn't notice me, but I could tell you wanted to talk to Haru. I wasn't surprised to see you at his door when Nagisa and I got there."
"Wow," Kou muses. She taps her chin with her index finger, eyes lifting skyward. "That makes it sound almost like fate."
When Rei and Nagisa return, Rei is carrying a precarious pile of bottles in his arms, and Nagisa has lifted the bottom of his shirt and carries the rest in his makeshift pouch.
"Pray tell," Rei is saying, "what are we possibly going to do with such a large quantity of bottled water?"
But Nagisa is ready with an answer, which he supplies as he releases the hem of his shirt and lets the bottles tumble to the grass – "Keep it for the picnic!"
"Haru-chan, I'm winning! You're so slow!"
Hiro's voice bounces off the walls of the pool room, making the empty space feel full and raucous. He's swimming backstroke over the width of the pool in the five foot section, Haruka kicking along on his back beside him.
"Remember your markers," Haruka says. "Get ready to turn."
He stands up to watch just in case, but Hiro disappears under the water and performs a competent, if not slightly rough, turn. Ishikawa-san, sitting with her feet in the water nearby, applauds when he breaks the surface.
Ishikawa-san has gotten very involved in monitoring Hiro's progress, often times taking to watching him practice with Haruka after she's completed her laps. She no longer insists on Hiro wearing the floaters before Haruka arrives, and on mornings when the lanes haven't been laid out for some reason or other, she lets Hiro practice as far in as the five foot section. Her enthusiasm gives Haruka some confidence, makes him feel slightly competent as a teacher.
When the 'race' is over, Ishikawa-san stands up, still clapping, and Hiro grins at her. "Can we do one more race?" he calls, but she crosses her arms.
"And make me late to work? I don't think so, young man."
"Awww," Hiro whines, but he starts swimming over to the stairs. Haruka knows he isn't really upset – he gets to spend his days at his grandmother's during break, and by the sound of it she spoils him rotten.
He waves at Hiro and Ishikawa-san when they disappear into the locker room, then sets off to do some laps. Not ten minutes later, though, he spots Ishikawa-san standing by the deep end, a large bag over one shoulder and a purse over the other, damp hair up in a professional-looking bun. She's clearly waiting for him, shifting her weight from foot to foot, so when he reaches the wall he climbs out.
"Hiro's up front with Kaji-san," she says before Haruka can ask. Her smile is eager, like she's about to divulge something very exciting. "He's turning in an application for summer lessons. Kaji-san told us you would be instructing; Hiro can't wait."
"Ah…good," Haruka says. He decides not to mention that he hasn't turned in his own application yet. It seems that Kaji-san has been getting ahead of himself.
Ishikawa-san's smile softens. "Nanase-kun, thank you for all that you've taught Hiro. He truly looks forward to swimming with you. He talks about you all the time; I'm sure some people must think you're an older brother." She gives a chuckling laugh, likely remembering an instance of this happening. "It's been a great weight off of my shoulders, seeing him enjoying himself so much and knowing I don't have to worry about him in the water. I can't leave him home alone in the morning, and I took him out of daycare some time ago because it was beginning to cost too much, but this is a much better place for him. And it makes me so happy to see him picking up a sport this eagerly."
"He's a natural swimmer," Haruka says. He doesn't know what to say to everything else she's told him, the weight of her sincerity. She makes it sound as though he's done something far more impressive than teach her son a few strokes – which has really only been possible because Hiro is such a quick learner himself. "He could join a team with a bit more practice, if he wanted to."
Ishikawa-san beams. "I'll make sure to tell him you said so. He'll be very pleased." One strap of her bag slips to the crook of her elbow, revealing the bright towels inside, and she hoists it back up again. "I do have to be getting to work now, and there's Hiro to drop off first, but I had to thank you for everything. Especially as I haven't repaid you in any way."
Haruka shakes his head. "That isn't necessary. I like teaching him. I don't need anything."
"Thank you, Nanase-kun," Ishikawa-san says. She looks for a moment like she wants to reach out, maybe rest a hand on his shoulder, something motherly. But she simply smiles, nods. "Hiro and I will see you tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, I'll be here," Haruka says. "See you tomorrow."
He watches her leave, then crouches into position to dive back into the pool. He feels a lightness in his arms and legs, or maybe a kind of contained energy. He tenses his muscles, ready to leap, and feels like he could even soar over the entire pool if he wanted to. It's a wonderful feeling, and when he hits the water he thinks he figures out what it is.
The feeling of being appreciated. Of doing something that matters to other people and himself. Of meaning something. Finding purpose.
"About time, Nanase!" Kaji-san says, when Haruka places the application form on his desk. "I was gettin' ready to send someone after ya, to make sure you hadn't thrown these away or somethin'!"
"You shouldn't tell people I'm an instructor," Haruka says. "I haven't turned in my paperwork yet."
"Y'have now," Kaji-san says, swiping the application off the desk and wheeling to the back wall, where he slips it into one of the filing cabinets. "Expect a phone call sometime within the next two weeks. We'll schedule an interview then."
He sends Haruka off with two thumbs up. Haruka keeps his expression flat more for show than anything else, but once in the parking lot he lets out a breath. It feels like relief, a floating feeling off his chest, and he savors it while it lasts.
He stops by the market before hopping on the train, and by the time he's walking up the block to Nagisa's house, his gut is twisting in now-familiar nervous anticipation. Nagisa's mother opens the door for him, welcomes him inside with a warm smile and tells him the others are in the kitchen.
He slips off his shoes and lines them up with everyone else's by the door. Then he heads toward the kitchen, where he hears the welcoming sounds of easy conversation. It's a shame he'll be bringing an end to that.
Kou and Rei are at the stove, directly across from the entranceway. The island counter behind them is covered with plastic containers and cutlery and food scraps. Makoto, Nagisa, and Rin are by the wall to the left.
In the moment before he notices Haruka there, Rin is smiling. He's leaning against the wall, responding to whatever Makoto is saying in front of him, hands in the pockets of his jacket. And then his eyes drift away from the group, catch Haruka, and his entire demeanor changes. He adopts the panicky look of a cornered deer, spine going very straight and body going very still.
Nagisa and Makoto, on the other hand, look more than pleased to see him.
"Haru-chan, wow, hi! Did you even ring the doorbell?" Nagisa says, bounding over to him.
Haruka watches Rin slip away to where his sister and Rei are, and pretends not to. "I did. Your mom answered the door."
"Well, come on in and find somewhere to put your stuff. Be careful of the knives. They're kind of…everywhere, I guess. Hm, maybe we should clean them up."
"Right," Haruka says. He lets Nagisa guide him to the island counter, so he can put down his bag.
"You can use the stove after Gou-chan and Rei-chan are done. Everyone's done cooking except you and –"
"Nagisa-kun, how in the world do you turn on your oven?" Kou calls, stealing Nagisa's attention.
"Er, good question?" Nagisa says, flitting over to the stove. Haruka hears him say, "I think it's this," to which Rei exclaims, "But that's exactly what I told you, Gou-san!" to which Kou says, "That's absolutely not what you said."
But he stops paying attention before Rin can pitch in, if he even does. He joins Makoto by the wall, gets a small smile in greeting, one that is all too perceptive and hardly happy enough. "They're not making you cook, are they?" he asks Makoto, before Makoto can ask him anything instead.
"No. I brought all the equipment in the living room."
Haruka hadn't even noticed it. "Help me prep?" he says. Makoto nods, and they begin clearing things off of the island. At one point, Haruka spares a glance across the counter at Rin, finds Rin looking at him and then looking away when their eyes meet.
He feels a twist in his gut, and it might be hopelessness this time, because he has no idea what kind of look that had been – too quick and too flighty, that's all. They're no more than five feet from each other, the stove is just on the other side of the island, but they might as well be on opposite sides of the house. Still, Rin had looked at him. It's a start.
Rin's pseudo-promise of 'some other time' plays through his head as he and Makoto chop vegetables, then dice fish – Makoto very, very carefully – and he hopes that other time is today. It has to be; there's hardly any time left. The horrible, ants up his arms feeling is back.
"I turned in the form," he says, to take his mind off of it.
Makoto looks up from the piece of fish he's bent low over, the tense concentration on his forehead lifting away. "Really?" At Haruka's nod, he breaks into a genuine smile. "That's great, Haru."
They grate ginger, measure spices and sauces, and then Kou appears between them, oven mitts on. "Mind if we switch work stations?" she asks. "My cake's done, and Rei-kun's almost done too."
As Haruka and Makoto transfer all their things to the counter next to the stove, Rin makes it back to the other side of the room, where he hovers behind Nagisa, who hovers in front of Kou's cake. ("Hands off," Kou says, swatting Nagisa away.)
"Hello, Haruka-senpai," Rei says when Haruka takes up post beside him, but he seems much more focused on the pot in front of him.
"What are you making?" Haruka asks. It looks like a stew, and smells heavily spiced.
"An old family recipe," is all Rei offers. His glasses are steaming up, and he stirs the pot with the intensity of someone who is following a very specific set of procedures.
"That's all he'd tell me, too," Kou says, materializing once again between Haruka and Makoto. "What are you making, Haruka-senpai?"
"Mackerel stir fry."
"It's better than you'd think," Makoto adds, to which Kou shrugs.
"I've learned to never doubt Haruka-senpai when it comes to mackerel."
Haruka lets Makoto get distracted by Kou, no longer needing his help with the cooking. Soon the two of them drift away towards the corner of the kitchen, and then it's just Haruka and Rei, cooking in companionable silence. Companionable on Haruka's end, at least. He's not sure if Rei is aware of anything beyond his stew.
Haruka tries not to be aware of anything behind him, like Rin speaking in undertones to Nagisa and Nagisa, worryingly, speaking in undertones back, which is a Very Bad Sign. He wishes the vegetables would cook louder.
A timer on Rei's watch goes off, prompting Rei to turn off the heat. "Cover the lid and set aside," he mutters to himself, doing just that. Then he leaves his post with a declaration of, "Nagisa-kun, I have finished."
Haruka doesn't turn to look, but he can imagine the overly cheerful grin that accompanies Nagisa's next words: "Great, Rei-chan. Okay Rin-chan, you're up."
Haruka hears Rin hiss a clearly distressed "Nagisa!" but the next moment Nagisa has steered Rin over to the stove and deposited him where Rei had just been.
Oh, Haruka thinks. So that's what they were muttering about.
He seems to have lost the ability to turn his head, as though his body's gone so taught it's left him paralyzed. It seems the same thing has happened to Rin, judging by the stillness Haruka can sense even if he can't look at it. If anyone were to look at them now – and he's sure they are – it would be glaringly obvious that something is wrong. He can feel the tension of a thousand rubber bands pulled to a straining point between them.
"Okay, well, when the two of them are cooking, the rest of us can organize the stuff we're bringing to the park," Nagisa says. Haruka notices that his voice has lost some of its buoyancy, and he feels a grudging satisfaction at the thought that whatever ploy of Nagisa's he's been thrown into against his will isn't going as planned.
Then again, he had been hoping for the chance to talk to Rin, hadn't he? And yet here he is clamming up. He wants to sigh, but is also uncharacteristically timid of making a sound in Rin's presence.
The others leave the kitchen. Rin starts heating up a pan. Haruka adds the mackerel to his stir fry.
Slowly, and it feels like he has to battle the silence to do so, he dredges up the ability to speak.
"What are you making?" he asks, directing the question at the stovetop and feeling painfully awkward. More than awkward. It's like speaking to someone he doesn't know.
Rin clears his throat. "Just something my roommate at school taught me," he says. "It's hard to find all the ingredients around here, but we'll see, I guess."
His voice is light and inauthentic, the exact same tone he had used at the party. The words have no weight and lose form the moment they're spoken. They fill up the air with a strange void; Haruka's already forgotten what he said.
He tries again. Manages a glance in Rin's direction this time. "How's your break going?"
Rin doesn't look up from his pan. His tone goes clipped. Defensive. Corners of his mouth pulled down. "Fine."
Haruka looks away. He doesn't understand; Rin hasn't fled the room, is right beside him, closer than they've been in months. But his answers make it clear he has nothing to say.
Are you ever going to talk to me? he wants to ask. I can't fix things on my own, you know. You're a part of this, too.
"Rin –"
"Can you hand me that spoon?" Rin says, pointing at a container of wooden cooking spoons on Haruka's side of the stove. "Thanks," he says, when Haruka passes one over.
The main constant with Rin and conversation has always been that Rin does the talking first, and then Haruka figures out how to respond. Now that he's the one trying to figure out what to say, his mind whirs in useless circles.
He realizes his hands are shaking when he tries to pick up the small ceramic bowl with the soy sauce he's measured out, which he fumbles. It hits the countertop, not breaking but spilling its contents, which drip onto the floor. Rin stiffens, but does little else as Haruka lets out a short breath and starts to clean up.
He moves mechanically, tossing away the soiled paper towels, heading to the fridge for more soy sauce. He stares at the bottle in the door for a long while before he realizes he's letting too much cold escape, and that he's clenching his jaw. He's so distracted that he bangs his hip against the corner of the island counter on the way back to the stove, bites off the end of a curse as the pain flares up his side.
Rin turns at the sound, seems to forget for a moment that he's trying not to look at Haruka – and in the moment he forgets, he looks alarmed.
"Are you –" he starts, but he realizes his slip-up and shutters back off. Turns with a jerk of his shoulder back to the stove.
Haruka rejoins him, sets the soy sauce down with too much force, the jarring sound of glass on tile making Rin wince.
"I'm fine," he says, voice tight and angry and clearly not fine at all. The strain in the space between them has gotten impossibly tenser, and makes Haruka's head even more jumbled. When he picks up the spatula he's been using, his grip is too strong, and for a second he wants to launch it out the window.
He doesn't even know who he's angry at, and he's so tired of feeling this way. He's afraid that every word he says will bounce off of Rin's skin, only to pelt back at him, crowd around him. The thought makes the air thicken, or maybe it's his throat closing, or maybe it's his heartbeat picking up, a rapid pattering thrum. He feels suddenly too hot, or too cold, too cloistered, or maybe too vastly alone, like the Rin standing beside him doesn't even exist. Like he could shuffle five inches over and not feel Rin's shoulder come into contact with his.
Hands clammy, he throws together the rest of the stir fry and rushes out of the kitchen, leaving Rin alone.
The picnic, by some twist of horrible, horrible luck, manages to be more miserable than the party had been.
The high point is probably when Rin opens one of the coolers and gets a very peculiar look on his face, before spitting out, "Why the hell are there so many water bottles in here?" Haruka doesn't manage a smile, though, not even inwardly.
Apart from that, they eat, and the other four talk while Haruka and Rin sit on opposite sides of the picnic blanket and say next to nothing at all. It's another sunny spring day, though there's a slight edge to the warmth, materializing in short puffs of cool air that rustle the trees together musically. The air smells fresh, like pre-rain. It's a beautiful day, ironically.
And Haruka can no longer muster the energy – or maybe the hope – to tell himself it isn't avoidance.
Rin is avoiding him.
And he hates it.
It's maddening, how Rin twists everything up, makes everything such a hopeless mess in his head. All his thoughts run together, only to be replaced by the sounds of the leaves. The one thing he can grasp, though, is that he likes nothing about this Rin.
Rin is proximity, too loud and too arrogant and too pushy at all the wrong times. Rin is physicality, arm slung over Haruka like it belongs there, like he's made Haruka his personal leaning post because that's just how things are supposed to be. Haruka feels like he's lost an anchor, or just too much weight, without Rin stooping him over all the time. With Rin treating him like something to be afraid of.
When they play soccer, it's Rin and Nagisa against the rest of them, and Rin attaches himself to Makoto instead of Haruka, and Haruka doesn't try very hard to do much of anything. He and Kou eventually end up at the edge of what has turned into a two-on-two match, and only then does Haruka see Rin cast off some of his armor and let loose. Elbows and shoulders with everyone, quick feet and a lack of regard for personal space.
And even if he's just pretending to be at ease, he does it much more convincingly when Haruka isn't near him.
Is it even okay to miss things like Rin's touch? Things like Rin trying to push him away to steal the soccer ball? Or something underhanded, Rin grabbing the back of his shirt to slow him down, because losing is never an option?
Is he even allowed to think like that anymore, or is it wrong?
Is it selfish?
Is he cruel?
Kou makes a soft, scoffing sound beside him, and he looks over in surprise. Arms crossed, she's starring with slightly narrowed eyes at her brother and doesn't notice Haruka's attention at all. Haruka is taken aback, and wonders what in the world could be going on between them. Wonders if Rin is avoiding more than one confrontation.
"Maybe you two should talk about it," Makoto says later, sitting on the picnic blanket with Haruka while the others play Frisbee. He doesn't sugarcoat his worry with a false smile, nor does he try to mask the plea in his tone.
"How are we supposed to talk," Haruka says sharply, "if he won't talk to me?"
Makoto doesn't have an answer. He just keeps looking at Haruka, maybe pityingly and maybe hopelessly. Haruka looks away, feeling guilty for snapping.
He hears the sounds of raised voices in the field, and turns to see Kou and Rin arguing on one of the knolls, Frisbee forgotten on the ground between them. Rei and Nagisa stands awkwardly aside, as Kou raises her hands over her head and says something sharp. Their words don't reach the picnic blanket, but their body language does – Kou standing a bit higher up on the hill, so she's looking down on her brother; Rin with his arms crossed tightly, chin up as he snarls something back.
"Are we ruining today?" Haruka asks. It had been meant to be a nice, easy get-together before Rei and Kou had to pack up to leave. Instead, it's become some fractured mess.
He meets Makoto's eyes, and Makoto's smile is back to sugarcoating. "You're not. It's just very noticeable."
It's ridiculous, that's what it is. It is – to take a leaf out of Rin's book – fucking stupid as shit.
Haruka decides then and there that, for once, he just needs to take Rin's place and be the pushy one. He's sick of this stupid routine of treading around each other, sick of being something so glaringly broken for the others to look at, and especially sick of working himself further and further into the dead end that is his thoughts.
The sky has lost most of its saturation by the time they've finished packing up to leave. It seems to hover low overhead, pale and washed out before the jewel tones can bleed in. Quiet, calming, blank.
He watches Rin bend to pick up the cooler, watches as Rei takes it instead, leaving Rin empty handed. He finishes folding up the blanket, pushes it into Makoto's arms. Makoto catches his eye, presses his lips together in a somber caricature of a smile that Haruka knows means Good luck.
The others start toward the street, but Haruka stands still, watching their backs. And then he focuses on Rin's back in particular, slightly behind Rei and Nagisa, maybe twenty yards away. He swallows, hoping to quell the mounting nerves.
"Rin." Under the quiet sky, his voice travels easily.
Rin freezes, an action that is now so very predictable, and though seeing it makes Haruka want to sigh, instead he says, "Wait."