Chapter 3: Swim Away

Wanna swim away,

And breathe the open air.

Haru had never wanted to visit Australia. He still didn't particularly want to, not even now that he was here and admittedly bathing in the luxurious warmth that radiated mildly from above and reflected in tangible waves off the pale sand around him. And yet ever since Rin had left to live abroad for his swimming, Haru had been if not interested then at least mildly curious. He couldn't help it, not with it being where Rin had gone. He'd never asked Rin about Australia but that didn't mean he didn't think about what had happened while he'd been away.

They'd been in the country for less than a day and in that time Rin had managed to thoroughly annoy Haru more times than he could count. He'd deliberately waited when the officer at customs had asked him a question in English spoken too rapidly for Haru to attempt to translate it, had strode off through the airport without a backwards glance as to ensure Haru didn't lose himself in the throng of foreigners – a very likely possibility given that it was both thickly congested and unfamiliar to him – and hadn't even bothered to tell him where they were heading. He just led and expected Haru to follow.

Which Haru did. What else could he do? It wasn't like he had any better ideas. When Rin had up and disappeared on him briefly not an hour before, Haru had questioned not for the first time why he'd 'agreed' to come along with Rin.

Agreed. How ridiculous.

And yet despite of all of that, despite that Haru was still thoroughly annoyed with Rin, he didn't regret it. Question it, yes, but not regret. Because even though he was irritated, even though he could only shoot a disgruntled glance at Rin when he turned towards Haru expectantly with just the faintest mocking touch to his expression, he didn't dislike it. He didn't dislike it at all, because that irritation didn't fade. It wasn't smothered into numbness or listlessness as Haru was only too familiar with. There were few enough reasons in Haru's life that he wasn't overrun by such numbness. Swimming was one of them.

Oftentimes, Haru knew from long experience, Rin was another.

Seated on the soft sand, legs tucked to his chest and arms looped around his knees, Haru watched Rin kick the fine grains idly with each step as he started towards the water. It was unseasonably warm for August, though Haru wasn't sure if that was simply how it always was in Australia. Not warm enough to go swimming, however, or at least he suspected Makoto would think so. Haru had never really been on the same plane of consideration as Makoto for what he deemed an acceptable temperature to swim at.

Rin had suggested it. He'd suggested they go in the water. Haru might have even silently taken him up on the suggestion but – but for right now he didn't really feel inclined to. Not at the moment. Not after everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Haru would be lying if he said he didn't want to swim because he always wanted to swim, but after the relative silence flight and the thoughtfulness it induced, he simply didn't feel inclined. It reminded him too sombrely of standing alongside the beach with Makoto days before, of the questions he'd prodded with and demanded answers for.

Haru didn't want to think about that. To consider such questions was the main reason he'd ended up in this situation in the first place. Seeking the silence of water, the release of the hollow muffling of viscous weight pressing down upon him and ridding him of the numbness that always rose like a wave to shatter his anger and leave nothing but disjointed, unfeeling shards in its wake was… it was one of the few ways he could escape it. It hardly mattered that Rin thought it was something else.

Drown himself? Of course Haru hadn't tried to drown himself. At least, he didn't think he had. What had happened had just… happened.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, Rin didn't take his explanation as justification. Juxtaposing to his casual disregard throughout the entirety of their trip so far, Rin had been insistent that Haru not be alone, that he not stray from sight. It made Haru feel like a child tugged along in his parent's wake rather than accompanying a friend on their holiday.

Still, that annoyance didn't fade. It wasn't replaced with numbness, as it often wasn't when concerning Rin. If anything, it did a modicum of good when Haru's thoughts drifted unconsciously and unwillingly towards Makoto, his words and what those thoughts manifested into.

Dreams.

Futures.

Haru didn't want to think about that.

"You could at least try and enjoy yourself."

Glancing up from his knees, Haru spared Rin a flat glance. He'd stepped in slow, lazy shuffles to the water's edge, only to jump slightly as the tide drew in and swept chilled water across his toes. At least Haru assumed it was cold; he wasn't going to go and find out.

"I don't feel like it," he said.

"Wow, you're such a fun person to bring on a holiday," Rin said, shaking his head as he turned in a slow circle. His feet grazed through the tide as it swept in with another wave, unflinching this time. "Remind me not to invite you along to another."

"You were the one who asked me in the first place."

"I know," Rin replied simply, entirely overlooking the irony of his own words. "Doesn't mean I can't think you're a killjoy."

Haru rolled his eyes, shaking his head and glancing sidelong. The beach wasn't richly dotted with beach-goers given that it wasn't the holidays or even the weekend in Australia at that moment, but there was still a noticeable speckling. Families with parents and pre-schoolers, a couple of surfers with boards longer than they were tall, the red and yellow lifeguards spaced distantly along the expanse of beachfront. Haru and Rin were the only two their age but for a distant few surfers that couldn't be more than a year or two older.

Haru found his gaze settle upon the two young men that stood with boards tucked under their arms, chatting idly and loud enough that their words carried as a ripple of sound across the expanse of sand. They looked comfortable, happy, with not a care but for the impressiveness of the next wave to wash in which, given the respectable heights of those already rising, wasn't really a problem at all. Haru knew it to be a superficial observation but he envied them slightly. He envied their comfort. How easy it would be to think of nothing but the next wave – not a wave of the familiar and choking numbness but of water and coolness and the luxuriating wash of freeing submersion. The release that was accompanied by the simple act of swimming that made everything feel okay, made everything possible.

Haru wanted that. He wanted that far more than he wanted any kind of dream or future.

"So. You and Makoto had a fight?"

At Rin's words, Haru drew his attention slowly back towards where he stood a slight distance away, turned casually sidelong. A flicker of annoyance rose within him once more before it faded. Not into numbness, thankfully, but simply died.

Haru pressed his lips together, offering a short nod before resting his chin on his knees. "Mm."

Rin kicked at the thin dribble of wave creeping up the beach for a moment before replying. "It's no big deal, you know. You don't have to be so caught up about it. Sousuke and I fight all the time."

That's not the real problem, Haru thought, but he didn't say as much. He didn't voice how it was as much if not more Makoto's words themselves that got to him, that more than the fight it was his persistence and the confusion elicited on top of everything else that had just been building up. True, the both of them weren't prone to fighting and it made Haru uneasy and just a little sad, but that regret was intermingled with everything else dragged to the fore alongside it. "It was our first one," he murmured.

Rin didn't reply, turning to gaze out across the water. When he turned back towards Haru once more it was to open his mouth as if to speak before clamping it closed once more, his jaw twitching slightly as it tightened. He'd been doing that a lot, Haru had noticed, and that was saying something because Haru knew he wasn't the sort of person to particularly notice that sort of thing.

But this he noticed. This he thought he maybe even understood, even without being expressly told. Or at least not expressly told again.

Rin was worried.

He didn't have a reason to be. At least Haru didn't think he did, anyway. What had happened at the pool… maybe it was a bit of a problem. Maybe it was an accident that shouldn't have happened, an accident that would have turned into a catastrophe had Rin not been there, but it hadn't. And Haru hadn't been trying to kill himself. He truly knew he hadn't been. He didn't want to die, regardless of how infuriating and confusing and painful his thoughts were becoming the longer and longer they manifested.

It was just that the water had always been his escape. An escape from it all, deafening the mental cries for attention into the gurgle of bubbles, the splash of water flicked up by his own fingers, the hollow, source-less thrumming that could only be sensed when submerged.

Haru hadn't meant to stay underwater for that long. He really hadn't meant to. And though it was concerning in an unexpected way that Rin was worried, worried enough that it was obvious, he didn't need to be. Haru didn't think he'd do it again. He wasn't stupid enough not to be on the lookout for the urge to simply sink in future.

Not that it meant he'd willingly start his medication again. Haru didn't – he didn't want that.

There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke, in which Rin seemed to struggle with the urge to speak. Haru could almost hear the repeated nagging, the questioning and prodding that was so familiar coming from Rin that Haru had years ago learned to endure it rather than become overly annoyed by it or risk their friendship. He waited expectantly, and yet when Rin finally turned fully towards him and started to his side it was only to heave a somewhat weary sigh before lowering himself to the sand next to him.

"Do I have to guess what it's about?" He asked.

Haru peered at him sidelong without lifting his chin from his knees. "Do you really have to guess?"

Rin's nose twitched slightly, his lips tugging downwards as if in understanding. "Yeah, I thought so. I mean…" He drew a deep breath before puffing it out in a sharp sigh. "I really do mean it. I'm sorry about what I said at the tournament last time."

"You already said that," Haru said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Really, his anger for their confrontation had died long ago. It was nothing but a memory now.

"Yeah, well, I'm saying it again," Rin said sharply, clicking his tongue as though frustrated. Haru fought against the urge to snort. How Rin managed to get annoyed over the smallest things he'd never understand. "I just… we all just want to help you out, you know."

"You're sounding like Makoto now," Haru said, shifting his chin so he could turn more fully to Rin. "I told him to keep his nose out of my business."

Rin winced slightly, glancing at Haru sidelong in turn. "How'd he take that?"

"About as well as you can imagine, I suppose." Haru closed his eyes briefly. Makoto had pushed and pushed, and it had been annoying – infuriating even – but Haru regretted it now. Makoto did the kicked puppy impression just a little too well and as such it was all the harder to shun him without the ruddy touch of anger to highlight the scene.

"He did the kicked puppy thing, didn't he?"

Haru felt his lips twitch just slightly as Rin echoed his thoughts. "Yeah."

"He does that a little too well, doesn't he?"

"Yeah."

"He was just worried about you too, you know."

Haru rolled his eyes. "Unnecessarily."

"Or very necessarily, as it turns out after what happened," Rin replied.

Haru frowned just slightly, warningly. He didn't want to have this conversation again now. "Rin."

Rin held up a hand in placation. "I'm not going to, alright. You're an idiot and I'm still so pissed off at you about everything, but I'm not going to talk about it now. Alright?"

Haru regarded him dubiously before shrugging a shoulder. He didn't want to talk about the 'drowning' incident either, doubted he would ever want to again, but Rin clearly felt the need. Haru expected to have that conversation before they left Australia without a doubt. Rin was never one particularly good at holding his tongue on questions. He was practically famous for his inability to do so.

"What I did want to say," Rin continued after a moment, "is that I think Makoto might have the right idea."

Haru felt his frown deepen. "Sticking his nose into my business?"

It was Rin's turn to shrug, and his did so unabashedly. "Maybe. You said you didn't have any ideas, right? So maybe you need more noses stuck."

"That is the worst use of a metaphor I've ever heard," Haru said, shifting his gaze away from Rin and out across the water once more. Memory of their argument at the tournament rose in the forefront of his mind, of the words that had spilled forth in his anger. You don't understand. What dream? What future? I don't have that! Haru hadn't even known he'd felt that way until that moment.

Rin didn't really understand. He didn't. Haru had no ideas, and nothing of particular appeal was presenting itself. He didn't want to swim for anyone but himself, but before a crowd, to beat a time, to surpass all others – that was the only way he could chase what he loved.

Haru didn't want that.

"Shut up," Rin said at his side, though there was a smile in his voice. "What I meant was maybe you could actually use the help?"

"What, are you offering?" Harry asked, turning back towards him. "I don't need help, Rin."

"Bullshit."

"I don't. I can work things out on my own."

"Bullshit," Rin repeated, and before Haru could say another word in denial continued to override him. "But even if you did, you don't have to. Fucking hell, Haru, would it kill you to take a hand when it's offered to you?"

"A hand?" Haru asked. "From you I'd expect a punch to be more likely."

"That was, like, one time," Rin huffed, rocking his head backwards as if to gaze imploringly at the sky. "Besides, Makoto would never throw a punch."

"Maybe I don't want Makoto's help," Haru said shortly.

Rin slowly turned to face him once more and Haru couldn't help but drop his gaze. There was something unreadable – as arose so often – in Rin's expression and Haru didn't like being the subject of something that eluded him like that. "So… not Makoto?"

"Not Makoto. He's got his own ideas. He's going to university."

Rin was silent for a moment before nodding slowly. "I could see that."

"Yeah, no surprises there," Haru said in direct denial of his thoughts but days before. Really, when he thought about it, maybe he should have expected it of Makoto. It was just that he hadn't really thought about them leaving. About any of them leaving.

"So just not Makoto?" Rin repeated.

Haru switched his attention back towards Rin, regarding him in confusion. "What are you going on about?"

But Rin was smiling now. Not his usual wide grin of sharp teeth and taunts but with the beginnings of something almost satisfied. In a sudden lurch he was springing to his feet, snatching up his bag where it lay discarded on the sand beside him, and spun to stand directly before Haru. He bent just slightly and stuck out a hand in what would have been an offer in anyone else but from Rin was more of an insistent demand. "I'll do it then."

Haru stared up at him. "What -?"

"I'll do it," Rin interrupted him. "You're always the sort of person to dig your heels in, stubborn shit that you are –"

"I'm the stubborn one?"

" – so I'm taking the choice away from you." Flapping his hand slightly as though to dangle his proffered fingers, Rin smirked. "All you've got to do is hang on and I'll drag you there."

Haru blinked slowly up at him, unmoving. "What are you going on about?"

Rin heaved a sigh that was far too dramatically exasperated for the situation before reaching forwards and wrapping his fingers around Haru's wrist. Haru didn't get the chance to 'dig his heels in' for without another word Rin was hauling him to his feet and hauling him in a tugging drag as he started up the beach. Haru barely managed to snatch at his own bag from the sand before they were practically running from the beach.

"Hey, Rin!" Haru began, but Rin only flashed a smile over his shoulder. He didn't loosen his hold in the slightest.

"You've got no dream you say, Haru?" He asked. Rhetorically, or at least Haru presumed, for he ploughed on without waiting for an answer. "Then we'll make you one. I'm not going to force it upon you but I can at least help you work it out. Maybe lead you on a bit. You've just got to hang on to me while I lead you the right way."

Haru had nothing to say to that. He could only stare bemusedly at the back of Rin's head as he started to run in earnest now. He didn't understand it. Haru didn't really understand it at all. Why did Rin care? Why did anyone care, really – Makoto, Nagisa, Rei, even Yamazaki, but especially Rin. He was the most persistent, the most recurring in his offerings of assistance that were more like demands.

Why did it really even matter to him?

Haru wasn't sure. He didn't know why, and didn't even know if he really wanted to understand. He just let himself be dragged along in Rin's wake. As it turned out, he didn't need to hang on himself; Rin was doing the holding just fine on his own.

Rin could feel his cheeks burning in mortification even as he rested his forehead upon the receptionist's counter, a groan spilling from his lips before he could help himself.

Great. This was fucking great. Fantastic, even. Or at least it was for whichever god was playing a sick prank on him.

The hotel had mixed up the booking. Of course it had, because no trip could ever run completely smoothly. It had been going almost too well up until that point; they'd trekked through Sydney, taking in the sights as almost an afterthought before stopping at the beach, and Rin didn't think it was solely his hope that made Haru seem less detached and withdrawn than he'd been two days before. Or at least as much as Haru ever got.

Their brief conversation at the beach had been a benefit, as much because Rin had voiced his thoughts and had them unchallenged as anything else. Haru had accepted Rin's inescapable offer for assistance, even if that acceptance was more resignation than real gratitude and readiness to welcome that support. He'd seemed to have even risen a little from his melancholy after that, though it might have just been Rin's own positivity for that simple 'acceptance' that made him seem as such.

It had been wonderful seeing Russell and Lori once more, and had almost been struggled to leave them. Rin hadn't realised how much he'd missed them both until he'd seen them once more. Haru had been quiet, but then that was only to be expected, as much because he was naturally that way as because he didn't understand much of the language. He hadn't seemed as melancholic then either.

But now this had happened.

It wasn't the room, for there was nothing expressly wrong with the room itself. It was the bed that Rin had an issue with. Even that wouldn't have been anything particularly insufferable – Rin wasn't squeamish about bowing to necessity when sleeping arrangements dictated – but now…

Why did it have to be now? Now, after what had happened, after days in which Rin had slowly and detachedly come to a realisation brought on by his bout of terror. It was hard enough not to be overtly aware of Haru's presence all the time. Now he had to share a bed with him?

It had to happen. Of course it would. Damn that laughing god.

With a heavy sigh, struggling with the urge not to glare at the open-faced receptionist as she adopted a professional visage of apology, Rin turned and strode back towards the stairwell. Fucking brilliant, he thought to himself as he climbed the stairs once more towards the room. As if my life wasn't hard enough at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, Rin thrust aside the upwelling of uncharacteristic nervousness that spilled through him and pushed through the door. He uttered an exasperated sigh that was just a little forced as he snapped the door shut with perhaps more effort than was entirely necessary. He folded his arms across his chest and leant back against it, adopting an indignant frown as he turned towards Haru. "They won't change it. Apparently there's no other options available for the night."

Haru glanced up from where he was sitting on the bed, half bent over and rifling through his bag. The bag that Rin had packed, he recalled detachedly, and couldn't help but remember when he'd done so. He wondered if Haru had happened across the bottle of pills yet. He wondered what he'd think about Rin forcing him to bring them along.

Slowly, Haru drew himself up straight, blinking slowly at Rin as though curious. Back straight, expression effectively blank – it was so typical of Haru as to be almost relieving. Haru had always been quiet, always mutely attentive and yet strangely oblivious to so much that went on around him. And yet naturally – or as naturally as Rin had come to understand he was when he took his medication – he was content. Maybe not happy exactly, but certainly not listless.

Rin hated that listlessness. Thankfully, it appeared to have all but vanished for the moment and hadn't resurfaced once on their trip that he'd noticed. Rin could only be thankful for that. Even the memory of it drew forth that of what had happened only days before and Rin… Rin didn't want to think about that. It made him sick to even consider.

A long moment of silence passed in which Rin fought the urge not to fidget under Haru's stare. He'd never had a problem with being stared at before, and certainly not by Haru because Haru had a tendency to just stare sometimes, but now he just felt utterly exposed. It was as though his thoughts were spread for display. Did Haru realise? Did he understand what went on in Rin's head? It wasn't likely, because quiet and attentive as Haru might seem Rin knew him to be largely introspective and oblivious all the time, but it still concerned him. He shifted once more, tightening the fold of his arms and frowned slightly. "What?"

Haru blinked, then shrugged carelessly. "So? Does it really matter?"

"It matters," Rin said shortly. "It matters because –"

He cut himself off abruptly with a huff. A moment later and he was shaking his head sharply and striding across the room to where he'd dropped his own bag. "Whatever. I'm using the bathroom first."

"Of course you are."

Rin paused where he'd crouched beside his bed, sparing a glance over his shoulder for Haru. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Haru stared back at him blankly. Honestly, sometimes it was difficult to discern if he was naturally blank-faced or merely hiding his expression exceptionally well. Rin was given the impression it was the latter this time. "I said of course you are," Haru repeated

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that I would only expect as much of you to put yourself forward first."

Rin stared at Haru for a moment, hands half buried in his bag. Was Haru just… teasing him? He didn't sound indignant, but it was difficult to tell if he was joking either. Haru's sense of humour was often difficult to recognise. "Well, if you have such a problem with it, Your Majesty, feel free to go before me."

"I wouldn't deprive you of that," Haru said quietly, shrugging just barely. "I wouldn't want you to get upset."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Being a bastard."

Haru did nothing more than blink with wide, guileless eyes. He had a poker face to challenge the world leaders. "Am I?"

Rin nodded shortly. "You definitely are," he replied, before straightening and taking himself to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him without another word.

Rin didn't like to be teased. He didn't like condescension or pity, or to have jokes made at his expense even when no one else was around to hear them. And yet that Haru had done just that, even if it was difficult to discern as being teasing or something else, was sort of relieving. Anything was better than how it had been two days ago.

It was late by the time they took themselves to bed that night, and though Rin continued to grumble – admittedly more in embarrassment that anything – it wasn't as insufferable as it could have been. Rin ensured it was so, especially after one such complaint had resulted in Haru's sighed, "It won't matter when you're asleep, so just go to sleep already". Rin couldn't exactly counter such logic.

Even so, it was difficult. Rin had rolled onto his side so that he was turned very definitely away from Haru, arm tucked under his head and trying not to think about the fact that his friend, his friend who he'd abruptly come to consider as perhaps more than his friend in recent days and quite literally couldn't stop thinking about, was barely an arm's length away from him in the same bed.

Rin kept his eyes closed, fighting for sleep that he knew wouldn't come. It couldn't, not with how his thoughts were buzzing like a swarm of nattering locusts. It probably wasn't right, not to think about these sorts of things after everything that had happened so recently. If Rin was really going to help Haru, really do some good, then he would tell someone about what had happened. He would get some help, probably contact Haru's parents, encourage him back onto his medication and stick by his side every step of the way to ensure that what had happened at the Iwatobi Swim Club pool but days before wouldn't happen again.

It was unrealistic to think he'd be able to manage it, but Rin had every intention of doing just that. At least for as long as he could. He'd stick right by Haru's side, even if his intentions perhaps weren't as entirely sincerely concerned as they should have been.

When did this happen, exactly? Rin found himself wondering, squeezing his eyes shut on the blackness of his eyelids until sparks jumped in that darkness. When did I even first start to care about him that much? Quite honestly, Rin couldn't remember. It had simply crept upon him or… or perhaps it had always been there. Rin had always watched Haru, always admired him, even before they'd officially met. When he'd taken a visit back from Australia, Haru had been the one he'd wanted to see the most.

When Rin thought about it, that probably should have been a bit of an indication. Did Haru know? He wasn't all that perceptive in most things and wasn't very observant either, but to Rin it just seemed so obvious. Did Haru realise just what was going on inside Rin's head? Did he know? Did he care?

Rin wasn't sure if he wanted him to or not. He didn't know how anyone would respond to his feelings, let alone Haru. He hardly even knew himself but to know what he felt.

Quite without meaning to, Rin found his eyes flickering open into the dark room and his voice murmuring into the silence. The words that spilled forth spoke in memory of that which played in the forefront of his mind. "Hey, Haru. What I told Lori and Russell was true. You probably don't even remember the first time we met."

He asked it as much as a question as a statement, but Haru didn't reply to his unvoiced suggestion. He didn't shift either, but Rin had the suspicion he was awake and listening nonetheless. "To me it might as well have been yesterday."

Maybe he was simply being nostalgic. Maybe it was because in the past two days Rin had been going over and over in his head every instance they'd spoken, every time they'd shared an exchange and every time they'd swum together. Rin really could remember, could recall when they'd met so clearly it could really have been yesterday. He found himself talking, recalling, voicing that which he hadn't before.

Of how he'd never anticipated someone being able to swim faster than him.

How his indignation and even anger had faded into awe as admiration had grown to take its place when he'd stared up from where he'd sprawled in a huffing heap on the pool deck at the unfamiliar boy before him who'd managed to beat him.

How that admiration had grown into fierce rivalry, and how Rin had flourished on it, on the friendship and competition he had with a boy who was so vastly different to him in so many ways and yet who shared the same love of swimming, of pushing himself, of being better.

And of how he needed him. How Rin needed that, needed Haru at his side, or even ahead of him to urge him onwards. How Rin discovered who he was because he'd had Haru at his side to uncover it with him.

He didn't know if any of that was as important to Haru as it was to Rin. He didn't know if Haru put the same weight on it, was almost certain that his own feelings hadn't progressed in the same direction, and didn't know if Haru would remember, but –

"I do remember."

The words died on Rin's tongue as Haru spoke. Sudden warmth flooded through him and it was impossible to withhold the smile that spread across his lips. Rin couldn't help himself but rolled from his side onto his back to glance sidelong through the darkness illuminated only faintly by the streetlights to the back of Haru's head where he still lay curled up on his own side of the bed. Away from Rin and for all appearances seeming intent on falling to sleep. There was genuine consideration in his voice, however, and Rin didn't think it was entirely his imagination that Haru was caught in his own thoughts. That he could remember and that it was a good thing. Thinking about swimming… it had always been good for Haru. Mostly, anyway.

Rin found himself talking once more, closing his eyes briefly before glancing back at Haru with a sidelong stare and the beginnings of a smile. "And how about that last freestyle race in spring?" Rin almost sighed wistfully. "That felt pretty good setting a new record together."

Haru shifted at that, turning his head slightly so that Rin could just catch a glimpse of his gaze drawn towards him, barely discernible through the darkness. He made a wordless sound of agreement, barely audible, and there was something in his expression, something open and attentive that urged Rin to continue almost without thought. He never would have expected himself to admit as much but…

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I was testing you. I needed to see how far I could push you." Rin bit back his widening smile that grew just a little rueful. That hadn't been the entire truth, of course. Rin always lost himself in the water, the speed and the chase when he raced Haru. Because they were the same, the two of them. They were of the same league, heading in the same direction, reaching for the same heights, if in a different way and Rin was the only one who realised it. Surely that meant something. Surely it wasn't only Rin who felt it.

He hadn't realised he'd spoken until he felt Haru shift at his side. It was nothing but a slight shuffle, a curl in upon himself, and his head tucked once more away from Rin. From the corner of his eye, Rin could see his hand rise up to tug just slightly, almost distractedly, at his hair before it settled just noticeably against his ear. As though Haru didn't want to hear any more.

Ah. Another bad topic. Rin had thought that Haru would perhaps even prefer to talk about this than what had happened at the Iwatobi pool, especially after their brief conversation at the beach, but apparently this subject was a taboo as well. Rin wanted to talk about it. He wanted to encourage Haru, to urge him to take those steps alongside him. He didn't know what else he could say that would encourage him to do so, though.

Rin couldn't imagine swimming without Haru. He couldn't imagine it almost as much as he struggled to think about Haru not being around at all. About – about what would have happened if he hadn't been there to drag him from the water, if he hadn't been watching, if he'd been too slow or too hesitant…

Swallowing, Rin squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. When he thought of it like that, swimming and competing were almost of negligible concern by comparison. What did it matter if they didn't race next to if Haru wasn't around at all? They hadn't spent as much time with one another of late, not as they had when they were children, but Rin couldn't think… he didn't want to think of what it would be like if…

The sudden, now familiar dryness in Rin's mouth was a struggle to swallow past, but he managed well enough to speak. He had to, because abruptly he felt the unshakeable need to get the words off his chest. Rin had never been one particularly adept at remaining silent. "You know, Haru, I… I don't know if you want to hear this but I'm going to tell you anyway." Another swallow that was as inadequate as the first. "I admire you. And I really, really like swimming with you. But that… when I think about that and…" He paused, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment if only to blot out the slight turn of Haru's head towards him, the curious attentiveness. "What happened a few days ago. When you – when that happened. I realised that it wasn't just about the swimming."

He paused, as much because he was feeling sick for the memories as due to the embarrassment and awkwardness that he was actually speaking his mind. He chanced a glance towards Haru, caught his eye as he was just turned towards him, hand still resting but not pressing against his ear. He looked just a little confused, which was about the most emotion Haru ever wore. "What?"

Rin fought the urge to sigh. Or all the times to be oblivious… "It fucking scared the shit out of me, you know? When I thought you'd – when I didn't know if you'd –" Had Rin ever been so inarticulate in his life? He didn't think so. His tongue abruptly felt as though it were swollen and incapable of speech. He drew a long, steadying breath that didn't do all that much good. "It scared me. The thought that it almost happened, that you'd almost…"

Rin trailed off, both the embarrassment and horror overwhelming him enough that he had to close his eyes once more. For a long moment it was only that, the image of his friend who he'd realised he cared for more than as strictly friends lying cold, limp and for all impressions dead before him. Rin didn't think he would ever –

"Sorry."

The word was so quiet that Rin almost didn't hear it. When it registered, he opened his eyes and glanced towards Haru once more.

Haru had turned his head away from him, his hand rising to tug slightly at his hair once more, resting on his ear. Rin wished he wasn't looking away, for he suddenly wanted to see his face, to attempt to discern what he was thinking from his expression. Not that looking would likely do any good; Haru wasn't exactly easy to read.

Haru continued after a moment, his voice nearly too quiet to discern. "I didn't mean to worry you."

And that's the problem, Rin thought. That's the main problem. You didn't mean it, but it happened anyway. "I know," he said, and with a clearing of his throat attempted a casual tease. "I doubt you really give a shit what I think most of the time anyway, yeah?"

Haru shook his head slightly. "I never want to upset you, Rin. If it happens I'm not doing it on purpose. When we race, when we fought – I didn't do it to upset you."

Rin stared at the back of Haru's head for a moment. It was perhaps the most awkward yet heartfelt conversation they'd ever shared, and it was hitting something inside him that was both thankful to be struck and heartily objecting to the blow. Rin ignored the niggling voice that muttered in response. He could only stare at his friend for a long moment before he found the words. "I don't actually want to piss you off all that much either, you know."

"Really?" Haru muttered. "That's a surprise."

"Shut up," Rin said, but couldn't suppress a small smile. It faded almost instantly, however. "What I meant was that I don't want to… upset you either. With what I said, when I was asking you about your meds – I really didn't mean to piss you off."

Haru didn't reply for a long time, and Rin thought for a horrible moment that he'd pushed too far. That he shouldn't have brought up the meds at all. He was almost on the verge of disregarding his words with another casual comment when Haru spoke. "Yeah," he murmured, even quieter than before. "I think I know that. And I'm sorry."

Ring turned his head more fully this time, shifting to peer through the darkness at what he could make out of Haru buried but for his head and the one hand resting atop his ear above the blankets. All he could hear was the soft sound of breathing, and to him it was almost a blessing to hear. Rin hadn't thought that breathing would be a sound that ever meant so much to him, but from Haru, when he recalled the moments where he hadn't heard it at all, it was somehow soothing.

Almost without thought, Rin found himself reaching a hand towards him. He didn't ask for permission, simply reached and curled his hands around Haru's upraised arm, fingers locking around his wrist. The same wrist he'd grasped to pull him from the water, he realised. As soon as his fingers touched warm skin it was as though Rin could breathe properly himself. As though a weight he hadn't even realised settled upon him had been lifted. There was something just so comforting about holding on to him, as though to do so would be to deny that Haru would ever leave him.

"Me too," Rin found himself saying. "I'm sorry too." He didn't even know what he was apologising for, but Haru didn't question it.

He didn't question that Rin held onto him either, or that he didn't let go as they both fell into silence. Rin could only be grateful for that because he truly didn't think he ever wanted to. He didn't know what that meant, but it felt comforting.

The next morning, he woke to find Haru already awake and pottering about the room. Rin hardly spared him a glance and a word of greeting before sheepishly taking himself to the bathroom. Perhaps they would just ignore the fact that he'd fallen to sleep with his hand still clasped around Haru's wrist. Perhaps it would be better for the both of them to just ignore it.

All thoughts of such were drawn from his mind, however, when Rin caught a glimpse of the bathroom counter, the minimal mess of toothbrushes and soaps that they'd used the night before. He couldn't help but feel something close to a smile struggle to spread across his lips at what he saw. Rin didn't want to jump to conclusions, didn't want to make any assumptions, but the sight of the medicine bottle resting beside the faucet, right beside Haru's toothbrush as though used, was definitely reassuring.