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Sousuke looks at him. Like, really looks at him.
Rin doesn’t notice, of course.
Rin prides himself on having his shit together—that’s just what happens when you lose a parent. You grow up. You fold the laundry for your mother. You get the groceries on your way home. You make sure your grades are impeccable and stay out of trouble, because god knows your mother can’t take any more grief. You keep the romance novels you secretly devour in a box under the bed. They’re unrealistic, but the familiarity of the tropes offer a strangely comforting escape.
Rin prides himself on having his shit together, but he’s not perfect. It doesn’t sting, anymore, but he doesn’t forget the way he felt when he’d first arrived in Australia, surrounded by kids who were bigger, stronger, faster than he was. Louder, too. Open-mouthed laughter and toothy grins that always seemed to be directed at him but never included him, limbs that had no qualms about throwing themselves all over each other, sticky from sunscreen and chlorinated water, warm from the sun. Over each other, but never him.
He retreats to his books. He hadn’t expected to fail so catastrophically at making new friends, but when the letters from Nagisa, Makoto, and finally Sousuke stop coming, he knows he’s expected it for a long time. It’s not that he doesn’t miss them, he just can’t bring himself to tell them all the pathetic details of his life. Reading stops being a simple pastime—it becomes a necessity. It’s the only time Rin gets to pretend he has friends, restlessly shifting under the covers to stop his neck aching from staring at the page, tinted yellow from the lamp on his bedside table. His eyelids grow heavy, but he starts the next chapter anyway, because whether Simon likes Daphne back is all he can muster the energy to care about these days.
Rin prides himself on having his shit together, but that doesn’t mean he’s perfect. His confidence had mostly recovered, but sometimes he feels a hollow pang in his chest and thinks it’s only been bravado all along. It’s nothing, he thinks, when he first catches Sousuke looking at him. His gaze is unflinching and piercing as ever, but it’s warm and unguarded in a way that bleeds over into the lazy curves of his broad shoulders and spine. It’s nothing, he thinks. We’re best friends, we look at each other all the time. It’d be weirder not to. What is he supposed to do, not see me?
And they are. Best friends. They make bets and compete over stupid things, even after Sousuke stops swimming. Like who can cook the better fried rice (Sousuke), who can keep Momo quiet the longest (Rin, who bribes him with the promise of Gou’s number, which he never gives), and who can get the most likes on his thirst trap (Rin, but only by default because Sousuke was too uncomfortable to actually do it and ugh, what is social media anyway? Sousuke only gets as far as putting on the tight jeans Rin had goaded him into wearing, and Rin tells himself that appraising the way they fit was only part of the dare). They compete over video games, but after winning two consecutive rounds of Mario Kart, Sousuke lets Rin win.
Rin comes home one day to find Sousuke propped up on his bunk bed reading one of his novellas. Sputtering, he starts to explain himself—how the fuck did Sousuke find that, anyway?—but Sousuke cuts him off, saying, “So does Simon actually like Daphne or what?” Rin is only dumbstruck for a moment before he plops down next to Sousuke on the spot he was patting and starts rambling to explain the plot. He half expects Sousuke to laugh at him for liking trashy romances, but the moment never comes. Rin thinks he sees Sousuke’s expression soften briefly, but the look is gone as quickly as it comes (It’s nothing. We’re best friends, we look at each other all the time). Gingerly, he asks, “So… what do you think?” Sousuke hums, “I can see why you like them.”
Rin wakes up one night crying from a dream about his dad. Sousuke climbs down wordlessly from his bunk and holds him in the dark.
Rin doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s had crushes before, on Haru, Makoto, even Rei. Even Sousuke, when they were kids. Hell, the only friend Rin hasn’t had a thing for is Nagisa, though Rin would never tell him that. (He’s pretty sure Makoto knows about all of it, though, which meant Haru knew, too.) But those had never been real. He was so full of clichéd romantic ideals and had been so starved of meaningful relationships that the smallest gesture was a gift to his imagination. Anyone could see Makoto and Haru had been in love since they were children, so he was never going to come between them anyway, and Rei was his replacement, his protégé, his almost-rival. He couldn't really have been in love with any of them. Any feelings he had were just safe, lonely little self-indulgent fantasies that would never see the light of day.
Rin's had crushes before, but not like this.
It starts on a summer evening, after practice. He’s walking Ai through his new captain responsibilities when Rin feels eyes boring into his back. He turns to see Sousuke packing up across the pool. He’d been listening to their conversation, Rin knew. He’s got that open look on his face again—tenderness? Pride?—and, when he sees Rin, Sousuke holds his gaze a little too long. The corner of his mouth quirks upwards in a knowing smile and Rin’s stomach does a backflip. Sousuke leaves the room with a “Don’t overthink it, Ai. Mr. Model Student here gives good advice but doesn’t always know how to take it himself. You’re gonna be a great captain. Just don’t overwork yourself.”
Rin just knows he's gaping like a goldfish when Ai asks him if he’s okay and all Rin can say is, “I do too know how to take my own advice!” He concedes Sousuke’s point about not overworking, though (he does this later, at dinner, once he’s had ample time to recover from that Look, thank you very much).
It keeps happening, then. He keeps thinking about Sousuke’s fingers carding through his hair as he ruffles it after a particularly good joke. He thinks about the firm hand on his shoulder as Sousuke leans on him for support as he gets up to go to bed, leaving Rin to read his novellas (openly, now) on the floor. (He imagines it trailing past his shoulder and down his back, his skin burning under its touch.) He thinks about their knees, pressed together on the same floor while Rin sorts through his belongings for what to bring to Australia, while Sousuke reads the last of his romance novels. “You should keep it,” he says. Rin has had crushes before, but this one feels safe because it’s not not real, and it’s so familiar and natural that Rin wonders if his childhood affections just never went away.
By the time he’s standing at the airport gate, Rin’s had at least five flashbacks to the first time he left Japan, except some things are different now. Nagisa and Momo had burst into tears at the train station (Ai unsuccessfully held back his own). Gou, Makoto, and his mom had taken turns giving him bear hugs of varying strength, while Haru simply said, “don’t do anything stupid.” Even Rei had offered an overly formal goodbye. (“Thank you for your friendship and rivalry, Rin-san. I will never forget your tutelage in my early days of swimming. I wish you a safe and pleasant journey.”)
It’s just him and Sousuke now, and Rin is determined to make the differences count. “I won’t disappear this time,” he promises. Sousuke furrows his brow and Rin’s terrified he can see right through him (Sousuke always does), so Rin hugs him, burying his face into Sousuke’s shoulder, like he never got to the last time. It takes a second, but Rin feels strong arms wrap around him and it’s both the warmest and saddest hug of his life.
“What I was going to say,” Sousuke chuckles. “Is that you should worry less about disappearing and more about not getting so depressed this time.”
Sousuke’s breath is too close and too ticklish and too warm—and his words, god—so Rin pulls away. “Yeah, yeah.” Rin’s chest is bursting with unspoken words, but he doesn’t voice them. “Thanks for seeing me off. Sure you won’t get lost on your way home?”
“Why do you sound like I’m the one traveling halfway across the world? I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” Rin grins. “You’re buying me a soda first thing when I get back.”
“Deal.”
Rin hugs him one last time and doesn’t look back.
Rin makes good on his promise. They call once a week, and text sporadically on most days. Their texts don’t always add up to real conversations, but they‘re something. Sometimes, Rin wakes up to an onslaught of messages from Sousuke asking questions about Rin’s old romance novels (“So she likes him because he’s mean to her? That makes no sense!”); Sousuke borrows them from Gou, who had apparently known about Rin’s stash this whole time (he takes over the protective older brother role from Rin, and brings the Matsuokas food from his dad’s restaurant once a week). Sometimes Sousuke sends him pictures of the restaurant, or the new team at Samezuka, or his occasional dinners with Gou, Nagisa, and Rei. Rin sends back photos of his university, the pool, and stray cats that look a little bit like Steve and hate him just as much.
Rin doesn’t say, “I wish you were here,” and neither does Sousuke.
They see each other again at his first All-Japan Invitational. Sousuke buys him a soda, and they watch A Rat’s Tale 2. It’s a tragic romance and just a little bit scary and should have been completely cathartic, except he’d absently reached for Sousuke’s hand at one of the jump cuts, and Sousuke hadn’t moved away.
Rin gives him that ghastly pink shirt.
Rin returns to Australia, and everything is exactly how it was before. Except Sousuke starts sending him pictures of himself wearing the pink shirt (“The way the koala on this shirt is clinging to the tree is an exact representation of Daphne’s clinginess in chapter 13”). Something about the pictures makes Rin’s face warm all over. He'd worry about what that meant, but he tells himself, It's nothing. We’re best friends, we look at each other all the time.
Rin is planning for his second All-Japan Invitational when he sees it. Makoto had posted a picture of his lunch: green curry that looked like Haru had made it (it had a side of mackerel). In the corner of the photo was what was unmistakably Sousuke’s backpack, complete with the “certain victory” charm Ai and Momo had given him upon graduation. Rin frowns. Sousuke hadn’t told him he was going to Tokyo. But that's okay. It’s nothing, Rin thought. He probably forgot. This might not even be his backpack.
The second time it happens, Rin is packing, when Makoto sends him a video of the ginkgo trees on campus. “They’re no cherry blossoms, but they’re so pretty this time of year!” Out of frame, Rin could hear Haru insisting the best way to cook mackerel was any way you could cook mackerel. A deep voice retorted that his mackerel chocolate cake could not be called a good way to cook mackerel, let alone the best way. Sousuke. Rin’s stomach drops. He knew Sousuke wasn’t very good at texting, but was it really that hard to say, “Hey, I’m going to Tokyo”? Rin couldn’t help but feel a little left out.
It keeps happening. Rin joins Makoto, Haru, Nagisa, and Rei for their monthly group call, and Haru deadpans something about how “your boyfriend is taking up so much space” in his and Makoto’s apartment. Rin smarts at that, but, humiliatingly, is forced to laugh it off and pretend to know whatever the fuck Haru was talking about. Rin sees Kisumi post a picture of himself with his arm slung over Sousuke’s shoulder, and Sousuke is begrudgingly—but genuinely—smiling for the camera, and Rin finally, finally admits to himself that it hurts. It hurts to miss your best friend and not know if you’ll ever live in the same country again—so you might have to miss them forever—and also harbor a closetful of feelings for them and also not be trusted with something so important and Oh my god, okay, I need to stop.
Rin beats his own time in his first meet at the Invitational and walks away with first place. He’d almost forgotten about his stupid feelings when he spots Sousuke waiting for him outside the locker room, wearing that obnoxious pink koala shirt he’d given him exactly a year ago. Rin wasn’t sure how he felt—nervous? Angry? Relieved?—but he had to admit the sight of Sousuke in that shirt never failed to make him feel at least a little bit better. It reminded Rin of how Sousuke always took him seriously—the shirt had been a joke, and yet here Sousuke was, wearing it as unironically as ever. It reminded him of how Sousuke always took an interest in his life—his swimming, his romance novels, his family. Which, now that he thought about it, meant it made even less sense for Sousuke to expect Rin not to be interested in his life, which was evidently true, since Sousuke hadn't told Rin he'd basically moved to Tokyo, and—
“Hey.”
“Hey. You made it.”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be here.”
“I know. Rin, I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you in person, I… I decided what I wanted to do. You know, for university.”
“You did? Sousuke, that’s great!”
“Yeah, I’ve decided to study sports medicine, at Meiji Chuo, where Makoto’s going. I’ve been staying with him and Haru and they’ve been showing me around campus. I’m sorry, I know you were hoping my shoulder would get better, and I know how much you value your rivalries and how they help you grow. I hate that I can’t be that for you anymore, but, well, I thought, maybe I could support you another way.”
Rin felt his eyes water.
“Rin? Please say something. I’m sorry, are you mad?”
Rin shook his head. “No, no. Sousuke, I don’t love you because you’re my rival. If anything, you’re my rock. I get to push myself because the challenges don’t seem half as scary as long as we’re okay. You’ve been supporting me—through my dad, then Australia, then high school, and now Australia again. You’re perfect—I mean, that sounds perfect—I mean, you’re happy, right?”
Sousuke blinks. “Uh, yeah.”
A second passes.
“Oh. Oh, shit, sorry, I—“
He doesn't finish, because Sousuke cuts him off with a crushing hug. Rin remembers the last time they were in this position, the day he first left for university, and is reminded once again of how things change. This time, he’s the one who laughs. “Idiot,” he sniffles. “Twenty years of knowing me and you still can’t tell when I’m crying tears of joy.”
Sousuke snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I love you, too.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“I will.”
Rin kisses him then, and it’s soft and it’s chaste and it’s nothing like his romance novels describe, but it’s his and it’s theirs and he’s waited for so long, and it’s perfect.
Rin prides himself on having his shit together, but he’s not perfect. The first day he really has it together, he thinks, is when they’re all swimming and Haru tells him to make eyes at Sousuke somewhere else, and Rin gets to say, “We’re boyfriends. We look at each other all the time.”